Author's Note:

I am using KrittaKitty and ShimoOkami 's True Wolves of Skyrim's model of wolves for reference instead of vanilla Skyrim's models. You can find the mod on the Nexus.

I also don't believe Angrenor Once-Honored's story about him being a friend of the Aretinos. As to why he would gain the key to Aretino Residence after the quest Innocence Lost, I would assume that's so that the game doesn't have him commit a crime to use the "abandoned" house as a home. I would imagine that he actually broke into the house after Aventus left Windhelm a second time (after Innocence Lost). However, since he saw evidence of the Black Sacrament, I would assume he would get out of that house as quickly as possible, and would be scared shitless if he ever saw Aventus again.

I realize there is also another issue concerning the Civil War: it seems like it has been going on for years (presence of ex-Stormcloaks, war wounds, Imperial ambushes, Stormcloak ambushes) when it is documented Ulfric killed Torygg in 4E 201, the same year in which Skyrim begins. I feel this small amount of time in which the Civil War has been going on, several months at most, is not a sufficient amount of time to justify all of the supposed ambushes by both Imperials and Ulfric's supporters. Therefore, I am assuming the "Stormcloaks" are simply men and women who have fought beneath Ulfric, not necessarily during the Civil War.

Now, in the case of ambushes, this means one of two things are happening: either the Stormcloaks have been fabricating or embellishing these ambushes to gain support, or Skyrim has been "at war" for quite some time but it was not officially in open war until Torygg's death. While I, personally, do not doubt the Stormcloak's cunning, the consensus seems to be that Skyrim has had uneasy relationships with the Empire since their defeat during the Great War, it was further fueled during the Markarth Incident, and came to a culmination when Ulfric assassinated Torygg. Due to this, I will be assuming skirmishes have occurred over the years prior to the Civil War, but they have been a result of misunderstandings, insults, and unprovoked attacks on Imperial patrols by Stormcloaks who wish Skyrim to belong to only the Nords.

This ties back in with Angrenor who claimed he was saving his men from an Imperial ambush: I am assuming he is too much of a drunk to remember the specific details, but he does remember an Imperial soldier stabbing him in the back.

Ulfric himself is referenced to have killed Torygg with his sword, in some accounts, yet he sends Balgruuf his war axe as a peace offering. I am assuming Ulfric uses a sword in combat and the war axe is simply a ceremonial weapon.


Chapter Nine

Snow and ice pelted the boy as he walked briskly across the immense stone bridge, the midday sun obscured by the blizzard. Releasing a burst of white breath, he pulled his ice wolf skin tighter around him; he had forgotten how cold Eastmarch could get. Thanks to the court wizard's efforts, the searing pain which had plagued him for several days was now nothing more than a dull throb, pulsating with every heartbeat. Still, the dark-haired boy was grateful he no longer felt the full pain of the dragon fire continuously.

He approached the city gates at the end of the bridge, two Stormcloak guards stood on either side. Judging from the way neither quaked nor moved an inch, the boy deduced the guards must have been of Nordic descent.

When the boy was only ten feet from the gates, the guard on the right raised his hand, indicating for the boy to stop. "State your business in Windhelm, boy." he said.

"I am Aventus Aretino. I was charged by Galmar Stone-Fist to slay an ice wraith on Serpentstone Isle." the teenager explained, trying to keep his voice steady in the freezing cold.

"A noble task," the other guard nodded once, slowly, "one that every Nordic boy must perform to earn his right as a man."

"Were you successful?" the first guard asked.

Aventus pulled a small leather bag from his belt, an ice blue ethereal aura emanated from it. He shook it slightly, sending its contents jangling.

A flash of realization crossed the man's eyes and he grinned at the boy. "By Shor! Open the gates!" The gates began to creak open and he clapped the boy on the shoulder, his grin still beaming on his face. "Go on in!"

Allowing himself a smile of pride, Aventus strode into the city, head held high.

"Oh, and Aretino," the teenager turned at the sound of the second guard's voice. "If anyone calls you 'boy', make sure you damn well show them the error of their ways."

"Yes sir!" Aventus grinned. He was about to turn back to the north, to head to the Palace of the Kings, when a man clad in iron armor came charging towards the gates from across the bridge. The guards stopped him and exchanged a few words with him, though other voices diverted the boy's attention.

"Gray-skin scum." a Nord growled. Aventus recognized the voice before he saw the man: Angrenor. When the teenager lived in Windhelm, Angrenor was a guard who had always been bitter concerning the Empire's defeat during the Great War. Even before the Civil War had broken out, Angrenor considered SKyrim to be home to only the Nords. Aventus' eyes flashed between the Nord and the Dark Elf woman he was insulting and concluded that he had not changed in that aspect.

"What have we done to provoke such treatment?" Aventus noted the black painted arrow on the dark woman's face, but her identity eluded him.

Another Nord joined his fellow countryman. Instantly, the teenager identified Rolff Stone-Fist, Galmar's younger brother. Even when Aventus was a child, the man was notorious for insulting foreigners. It did not matter if someone was an Elf, an Argonian, or anything for that matter; if you were not a Nord, Rolff spat at you. Aventus recalled his mother hurrying away whenever the Nord approached: not even Imperials were spared from his wrath. It had been a disgrace for a strong, noble Nord to have a petty brother.

The drunk took a drink of mead from a tankard and snarled, "You come here, where you are not wanted, you eat our food, you pollute our city with your stink, and you refuse to offer aid to the Stormcloaks!" The man in iron armor stood beside Aventus, his eyes focused on the scene in front of him.

The woman replied, calm and level-headed. "We have not chosen a side because it is not our fight."

"Hey," Angrenor piped up, "perhaps the reason these gray-skins do not help is because they are, in fact, Imperial spies!"

Aventus rolled his eyes as the female Dark Elf voiced his thoughts, "Imperial spies? That is preposterous!"

Rolff took a step towards the woman, and ran his eyes up and down her form. "Perhaps we will pay you a visit tonight, little spy." He advanced into her personal space, the woman did not flinch, though it was apparent she was uncomfortable. Rolff grinned wolfishly and leaned in to sniff the woman's hair. "We have ways of finding out who you really are."

The teenager felt the bile rise in his throat as his lip curled up in disgust. He had half a mind to dispatch both Nords, if there had not been guards or a stranger to witness his slayings. The stranger in iron armor approached the Dark Elf woman as the pair of drunks slunk towards Candlehearth Hall. Aventus strode past the man and woman conversing, his eyes not leaving the two Nords until they had both disappeared into the tavern.

Jogging towards the Palace of the Kings, Aventus felt the fury heat his lower back just as the dragon fire ignited down his spine now. He despised how people could get away with atrocities due to their station or injustice or the secrets victims were too afraid to reveal. People like that, people like Grelod, should have been destroyed: they did not deserve to live, not if they tormented others.

He pushed open the palace doors and entered. Galmar and Ulfric both turned at the sound. While the man-bear seemed surprised, Ulfric had a smirk upon his face. "And so the triumphant returns." The man on the throne announced.

"I owe Ulfric a drink," Galmar laughed as Aventus walked up to him, "I have to admit, after you did not return in a day, I did not think I would be seeing you again. I misjudged you."

"I apologize for the delay. Running on foot is not as fast as riding a horse." Aventus retorted.

Ulfric gave out a hearty laugh. "Indeed not."

"You have the ice wraith teeth, then?" Galmar asked, turning back to the recruit.

"Would I return if I had not?" The dark-haired teen brandished the small leather pouch and emptied it into the Nord's burly hand. The teeth had nearly frozen Aventus' fingers solid when he first harvested them, and he was reluctant to relive such an experience.

"Some fools do," the General replied, poking the teeth without any visual discomfort. Satisfied, he nodded and pocketed the trophies. "You have proven yourself to be Stormcloak material, Aretino. It is now time to recite our words, only then will you be able to join our ranks, serve Ulfric, and aid us in restoring Skyrim to her former glory. You can stick a sword through an Imperial, but that does not make you a Stormcloak. We fight to restore Skyrim and give her the king she deserves."

Green eyes flashed to the man seated on the throne, and Aventus was not sure if the self-proclaimed king was what Skyrim deserved; and until Ulfric sat upon the throne in Solitude, in the teen's mind, the man would be nothing more than a Jarl. Still, Aventus had no other choice but to concede: Ulfric had promised he would help him find his friends, and Aventus was intent on seeing the man true to his word. Returning his gaze to the General, Aventus nodded.

"That's the spirit," the man proclaimed, his eyes gleaming. "By swearing this oath, you become one of us: a hero of the people, a true Son of Skyrim, a Stormcloak. Repeat after me: I do swear my blood and honor to the service of Ulfric Stormcloak..."

"I do swear my blood and honor to the service of Ulfric Stormcloak..."

"Jarl of Windhelm and true High King of Skyrim."

"Jarl of Windhelm and true High King of Skyrim."

"As Talos as my witness..."

"As Talos as my witness..."

"Let this oath bind me to death and beyond."

"Let this oath bind me to death and beyond."

"Even to my lord as to my fellow brothers and sisters in arms..."

"Even to my lord as to my fellow brothers and sisters in arms."

"All hail the Stormcloaks, the true Sons and Daughters of Skyrim!"

"All hail the Stormcloaks, the true Sons and Daughters of Skyrim." Aventus said the words, yet his heart and his mind were not in them.

Still, he spoke with enough fervor, Galmar beamed with pride. "Now you are one of us, Aventus Aretino. Here," he pulled a bundle from one of the tables lining the hall and handed it to the new Stormcloak. "Since you are a Stormcloak, you might as well look the part!"

A pair of hands clapped and Ulfric rose from his throne. He descended the stairs and strode up to Aventus. "Well done, Aventus, well done. Go ahead and get dressed," he threw his head in the direction of the map room. "Once Galmar pours me a pint of mead, we can discuss your duties as my squire."

Aventus stepped into the map room. As he slung off his pack and unbelted his daggers, the teen kept his ears pricked for the discussion between the General and his king.

"I cannot believe you doubted the boy, Galmar." he heard Ulfric chuckle. Aventus began to undress, moving as quietly as possible so as not to obscure any words from his hearing.

"He is not a boy anymore, my King. By our customs, by our laws, he is a man." A liquid of some kind sloshed into one tankard and was followed by another.

There was a pause before the Jarl spoke again, Aventus assumed he drank a bit of his drink. "You are right... What has the world come to, Galmar? He is only just a boy, truly. Yet he is eager to join our cause."

"If I recall, you were not much older than he when you fought in the Great War." The teen had detected the pair had moved towards the throne, and Aventus began to dress himself into the Stormcloak uniform.

"A different time, a different war."

"War is still war."

"What of the Imperials? Have our scouts discovered anything on their new recruits?"

"Aye, all fresh and young, some as young as our own Aventus."

Straining to hear the words, Aventus belted on his weapons, cloak, and pack. "Could any be his friends?" The teen's heart stopped in his chest. What if he was forced to face his friends in combat? He had not considered that situation.

"I think not," Galmar negated, though he paused afterwards for a brief moment. "One scout reported the young boys seen in the training yard were locals from Solitude and were in fact not orphans."

Aventus heaved a sigh of relief and, after a moment of consideration, deemed not to wear the helmet. Instead, he placed it inside his pack and joined the General and Jarl in the hall. He arrived just in time to see a courier dart out of the hall; an envelope hung from Galmar's hand.

"Eastmarch blue suits you, Aventus," the man-bear stated, he stood up straighter and while he did not smile, Aventus saw the pride in his eyes. "You will make a fine Stormcloak."

"Indeed," Ulfric agreed. "Now, I assume you would like to know what duties I have for you."

Aventus nodded. "Yes sir." The sound of rustling parchment reached the newly dubbed Stormcloak's ears and he saw Galmar reading the contents of a letter. From the grimace on his face, Aventus doubted it held good news.

The Jarl stood and brandished a steel longsword from his side. He stared at its length with pride. "Do you know what this is, Aventus?" The teenager shook his head. "This is Skyforge steel. Eorlund Gray-Mane himself forged this for me when I was a lad." After admiring it for a few more seconds, the man sheathed his sword and held out both sword and sheath horizontally, indicating for Aventus to take it. "Take my blade and sharpen it at Oengul's. If you are unsure of your skills, I am certain he will show you a thing or two."

Taking the blade from the man, Aventus nodded and spun around, dashing out of the hall. On his way out, the man in the suit of iron armor sprinted in and Aventus overheard Galmar grumble, "Balgruuf refuses to send a straight answer."

The blizzard had not cleared as he had hoped and Aventus found himself in a world of white once again. After cursing snow and Arkay for sending an early winter, Aventus made his way to the blacksmith. A young Nordic woman sat at the grinding stone as Oengul hammered away at a cuirass on the workbench.

"Did you need something?" the girl asked, noticing Aventus when she looked up from her work. Her gray eyes flashed to his armor and she smiled.

"Just the grinding stone, miss, when you are finished with it, of course." The dark-haired teen did not wish to be rude. He had heard Oengul had taken on an apprentice before he had left for Honorhall, and he assumed this young woman was her.

"She will be there all day, boy," the blacksmith griped, not looking up from his work, "Go ahead an' kick her off."

Aventus made no move to take the Nord up on his offer and instead waited patiently. Despite his behavior, the girl sighed and stood, motioning him to take the seat instead. Nodding deeply to the girl, Aventus took out one of his daggers and examined its blade. Jasia had taught them how to sharpen their blades, but it had been nearly a month since Aventus had encountered a decent grinding stone and he did not wish to damage the Jarl's prized blade. Setting his blade to the stone, he went to work.

After he flipped his knife over to sharpen its doubled edge, the girl began to converse. "I have not seen you around Windhelm, are you a new recruit?"

"I became a Stormcloak today, actually." Aventus did not look up from his work, desiring to get the perfect edge on his blade.

"How exciting!" from the sound of her voice, the dark-haired teen imagined the girl would have sparkles dazzling in her eyes at that moment.

"Yes," he continued slowly, finding the right words to say, "I am honored to serve Skyrim and her people." He sheathed his first blade and began to sharpen his second dagger.

"As am I. Smithing... is not particularly exciting," she admitted, "but we all must lend a hand as best we can. If a Stormcloak uses one of my blades to strike down an Imperial soldier, then I have done my part to free our land."

Aventus felt as if she wanted him to say something in response, but he was not sure what to say exactly. Instead, satisfied with the work he had done on his daggers, he pulled out Ulfric's blade.

The girl gasped in elation. "Why, that, if I am not mistaken, is Ulfric's sword! The same one he used to slay Torygg!"

Hearing the blacksmith grumble at his apprentice's chatter, Aventus detected the man turn around and look at the blade. "Girl, that is -" he cut himself short. "That is..."

Aventus placed the blade on the grinding stone. The pair of blacksmiths remained silent as he worked, and he felt as if they were scrutinizing every movement he made. After a few minutes, he raised the blade from the stone and examined its edge. To his surprise, the girl's face appeared on the other side of the blade.

He saw her smile and she whispered, "It is perfect."

Sheathing the sword, Aventus stood and thanked the blacksmiths, "Thank you for your aid." He spun on his heel and made his way towards the north end of the city.

"Wait!" the girl called out.

The teen turned his head and raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement.

Flustered, the apprentice was at a loss for words for a few moments. Finally, she held out her hand and said, "I am called Hermir Strong-Heart."

Aventus took the girl's hand and shook it once. "Aventus Aretino," A flash of astonishment and alarm crossed Hermir's face. Aventus quickly added, "squire to Ulfric Stormcloak."

The girl's eyes widened and, while he estimated her to be a few years older than him, seemed giddier than a five year old who had just been gifted a sweetroll. "Ulfric! His squire!" She smiled wider. "I imagine we will be seeing a lot more of each other. And you can tell me all about him and what he has you do!"

"Hermir!" the blacksmith yelled.

"Yes sir," she called back. Hermir turned back to Aventus. "I look forward to our next meeting, Aventus."

The teen simply nodded and watched her run back to the forge. He turned around and doubled back towards Candlehearth Hall. One of his targets limped out of the tavern: Angrenor. Aventus followed the drunk, just barely keeping him in sight through the white storm. Eventually, the man stumbled into an alley. Aventus charged forward, detecting no one but the beggar, and clamped his hand over the man's mouth.

Without a word, he sliced open the Nord's throat with his blade and threw him to the ground. The man grabbed at his neck but it was too late. He flipped himself over and saw the teenager standing over him. A look of horror crossed his face as blood gushed out of his wound. Eyes wide open, the pitiful excuse for a life left the beggar's body and he laid still on the snow. The man, if one could call him that, had been so dismal and feeble, the kill reminded Aventus of slaughtering a rabbit: the task was simple, disappointing, yet necessary.

Aventus quickly wiped his dagger on the man's clothes and assessed his own attire. Content he had nothing to fear, the teenager strode confidently through the blizzard, leaving the body to the elements. The sun was beginning to set on the city and Aventus stood at the entrance to the Gray Quarter, waiting. He recalled hearing the Nord scream profanities at the Dark Elves during the night when he was a child: his family home had been seated right above the slums the Dark Elves called home and not even the thick, stone walls could block out the vulgar words the second town drunk spewed.

As sure as the sun, Rolff staggered into the Gray Quarter. He took a sharp right and his momentum careened him towards a pile of barrels. Aventus knew the sound would surely attract someone. Racing as fast as he could he caught the man by the arm right before he fell into the barrels.

Rolff looked at Aventus and smiled. "Tha-"

The teen cut open the filth's throat, just as he had done with his friend. The Nord clutched his wound, trying to stop or at least slow the flow of blood. However, Aventus' blade was razor-sharp and his aim was unmatched. He watched Rolff take his final breaths before he cleaned his weapon, wiped himself off, and cleaned his hands in the snow. Not wanting any witnesses to see him exiting the Gray Quarter, Aventus quickly scaled the wall leading up to his house and vaulted over.

He landed softly and returned to the Palace of the Kings. Thinking to himself, he retracted his earlier curse against Arkay: perhaps an early winter was not so horrendous after all. Pushing open the doors, the man in iron armor sped past him once again. He ignored the strange man and approached Ulfric.

"Ah, Aventus," the Jarl smiled. "Though I must say, I had expected you earlier."

"I apologize, sir. I wanted to ensure your blade was as sharp as your wit." Aventus did not lie... though he had left out a few details.

Ulfric did not seem to notice. He laughed and said, "Flattery will get you nowhere, young one." Unsheathing his sword, he examined its edges. "Though your sharpening skills might get you somewhere." The Jarl nodded to himself and sheathed his sword, buckling it to his waist.

Aventus could not help but realize, like the stranger cloaked in black he had met so long ago, he too preferred to remain silent.


So, I just realized I was switching between writing the chapter numbers and writing out the chapter numbers (how embarrassing). I fixed it so they're all the same style now.

Yes! I'm early on this one. It's late over here, but I just finished it, it's not going to get any further changes, and I wanted to post it so... yeah!

I also managed to get the moderators to add Aventus as a character, so now all of the main characters are properly tagged. Don't know why the other fanfic authors never got around to submitting the character request, they responded fairly quickly to my e-mail. Doesn't matter, he's listed now, so I hope the other authors will tag him in their stories to make everything easier for readers.

As a side note, I am assuming Sofie and Aventus had seen each other in passing but never really got to know one another {makes things easier on me and I can continue with the Aventus x Lucia pairing without drama [speaking of which, some of you might be wondering where Lucia is... she's safe. That's all you need to know. (blatantly stolen from Jade Empire, awesome game by the way)]}.

And if you're wondering why I capitalize "Sons of Skyrim", technically it's a faction in the game and I'm treating it as such here.

Thanks for reading guys!