Just FYI, this is also posted on my ArchiveOfOurOwn account too. Same name, same story. Enjoy. And don't forget to comment please.
They were a sea of red and leather, these hundreds of Imperial soldiers camped infront of a great city that still was not large enough to hold them all, and every one of them hated his very existence.
He was the reason they were fighting this war.
And he should have been uneasy in their presence, but he wasn't.
This sea of hatred could not compare to the fear he had left behind in his very own city, a distress he trusted Galmar and Ysrarald to handle in his absence.
Talos, and if it wasn't for those criminals Loriel favored so, he would have been none the wiser to eighteen Thalmor spies hidden within the walls of Windhelm, each and every one of them in a position that allowed them to place countless potentially valuble secrets in that bitch's hands.
And the worst part yet was just how close all of them had been to him and all that he valued.
If there were that many enemies within his own city, just how many of them did the Thalmor have hiding throughout Skyrim itself? How many were watching him, right here and now as he and his entourage headed up the path to Solitude's gates, a tiny blue troop among the sea of red?
He did not trust them, but he now saw the necessity of Loriel's Thieves Guild.
They would be useful in the forseeable future, should he live past today.
He was but one man situated right in the center of all his enemies, face numb and heart drumming against his ribs with nerves, but there was no true fear left in his blood as Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak, leader of the rebellion, dismounted his horse a short handful of yards from the huge gates of Solitude, with General Tullius himself front and center to it all.
With Elenwen standing over his shoulder, just as composed as he always knew her to be, unreadable despite her focus being somewhere behind him where he knew just as well as she did that within the protection of his men, her two sons were.
A fugitive and a traitor.
And somewhere within the city at her back was the humble third who had a wife and four children to think of.
Tullius looked grim as he approached.
"This is only happening because the Emperor wills it to," he growled to a man who had once served beneath him some thirty years before, back when they had both been younger men.
"The Emperor has given his will," Ulfric replied, drawing a soothing breath as his hands remained at his sides, "and so I will give my own."
His eyes flicked over to Elenwen, who had focused her gaze on him.
"The Thalmor are unwelcome in Skyrim. You have two weeks from today to collect your agents and spies and leave. Anyone who is suspected of being an agent of the Thalmor will be arrested thereafter," he stated to her, loud enough for a great many surrounding soldiers to hear, and behind him, there was a vaguely controlled murmur of praise that was quickly silenced.
He doubted she would uproot her spies, so proud as she was, but he would do it for her.
The Thalmor did not belong in Skyrim.
They never did.
And he would be happy to remind her that they weren't.
Elenwen sneered at the Jarl.
"Enjoy your petty victory, Ulfric. This is not over," she stated as she turned and slipped through the barely opened gate that nearly slammed after her.
No, he thought to himself, its not.
Then, swallowing down his nerves, he turned away from General Tullius, a man who was no longer his enemy but certainly no ally, and cast his gaze over the mass of Imperial soldiers who practically surrounded the small hord of his personal best and brightest.
And then, sea blue met familiar amber through the crowd, Loriel's head high above those who surrounded him.
A small, reassuring smile, and a nod.
And so he drew breath, to give to the people what they needed.
Just the same way a certain Altmer gave him what he needed, whether he wanted it or not.
"We have come to this moment carried by the sacrifices and the courage of our fellows," he began, hyperaware of all attention being focused more directly on him, "of those who have fallen, and of those who still stand bearing shields."
There were grumbles among the Imperial forces, he heard at least one 'shut up', but he ignored the voices.
This needed to be said.
"Every one of these men and women I speak of know the price that is to be paid for fighting for what they believe in. And every one of you have been willing to pay for it in blood."
He felt the silence rather than heard it as annoyance slowly hushed at the acknowledgement.
"Many have paid with their very lives," he noted grimly, and there were faces already reacting to his words, "I know that many of you have found yourselves looking across the battlefield at people wearing familiar faces and you have known that those enemies based upon different ideals were once your kin.
There was sorrow, he saw.
Those who had lost friends and family, some at their own hands.
And there were those who doubted him.
Those who blamed him.
And they should.
He felt certain that what he was to say next, it was the right thing to say.
"I know that many of you doubt my intentions here today," he said strongly, voice carrying up and down the walls. A few short hundred pairs of ears might hear him on this path, but if only a hundred heard him today, it would be enough.
"And you should doubt me."
He saw the surprise on the faces of his men, on the faces of Loriel and his brother.
He needed to say this.
He needed to be honest.
"I have given so many of you little reason to trust my word. Why should you trust me now after each and every one of you here today have been made to leave the peace you once knew in order to take up weapons and battle the chaos? You are uncertain and you should be. You should question, is this all worth it? And there is no shame in such thoughts."
He recalled a wooden box in a pair of slim gold hands, sealed with wax and velvet-lined, twenty-six pages of agreement resting within, twenty-six seals who would come hold council in order to face an enemy that was more deserving of their attention than each other.
This war against brothers had to stop.
And he would be the first man to admit it as he stood firmly before every man and woman who deserved to hear it.
"I ask myself that question every day."
What had been done hadn't been right.
The blood that had been cast on the ground hadn't been justified and he had been the one to draw it first.
"But I do not question that there is no shame in fighting for what you believe in. That no matter what banner you have fought under in this war, you have all fought under a banner of Skyrim."
This was their home.
"Some of you may see this moment as a defeat, and some of you as a victory. But no matter what colors you have flown in these past years, know that you will not be barred from your homes. Because you are already here."
This was no victory.
No defeat.
This was peace.
And he would not play the cruel king to chase those who had fought on a side that was not his out of the very place they belonged.
Something to one day consider for the Reach.
"Those of you who have found that your home lies elsewhere will be welcome to go. In safety and in peace."
"And what of Solitude?" he heard one voice cry, "you speak honeyed words but you bloodied this place first! What say you, King-Killer!"
Ulfric looked back to the outraged soldier who posed the question that surprised even Tullius, and his gaze lifted up the walls of Solitude where a great many had gathered to hear him speak. Even Jarl Elisif the Fair herself.
And he felt his expression soften.
He needed to speak to her too.
And so he internally dedicated his conclusion to her.
"To many, this war was begun when I killed King Torygg, but the truth is that I began this war the moment I believed that the best way to secure the freedom of Skyrim's people was to challenge him. I believed that what I was doing was right for my country. For my people. For the gods and heritage and traditions I had been raised with."
Some people knew this.
Some people viewed it as a farce.
He knew they did.
But what many didn't realize was that he finally realized that he had been wrong.
"I have come to realize my mistake not without the aid of great men," he said, turning his attention back to the soldiers before him where amidst the sea of blue and silver two golden faces stood out, "some with gods and heritage and traditions different than my own."
A powerful breath filled his lungs and it felt so much stronger than any Thu'um.
"On this day of First Planting," he announced, "the seeds of the autumn harvest are to be sown so that new beginnings can be made, and I am here on the doorstep of Solitude so that I may reconcile the disputes I have made so that resolutions may be reached, and so that the men under suns yet to dawn will be transformed by what we do today!"
Every breath was held but his.
"This is the future we have all fought for, whether by sword or by song! This is for the future of Skyrim! And all of Tamriel!"
The cheers that were roused by his speech was thunder upon his ears, red and blue alike as enemies dissolved to friends and family once more.
He could not turn back the hands of time and bring back those who were lost, but all he could do now was make way for a better future.
For all of Nirn.
A voice huffed behind him, surprisingly close, and he glanced to Tullius as the man admitted, "that was certainly more humble than I expected."
It had surprised him too.
"I've had a lot of humbling lessons to learn since Helgen."
Tullius's mouth drew into a thin line, not irritated but vaguely disinterested. "I suppose now would be the time to head inside. Reconcile disputes and reach resolutions and all."
And he turned to slip within the gate.
As he turned to follow, Ulfric cast one more glance back to the crowd.
But among the masses of people who were baffled and joyous all the same, he could not see the face of a man who had made so much of this happen.
