The beauty that the palace of Dragonsreach contained was mesmerizing. I had only been here one other time, when my parents had died. I had come here to receive word from Jarl Balgruuf that I was being sent to Honorhall, and at the time I was too gloomy and depressed to really appreciate the beauty of the design in the throne room. The birchwood rafters practically glowed from the great hearth in the center of the room, flanked by two long tables, filled with food and drink that could probably feed the entire city. Servants and Housecarls sat at these tables, eating and chatting with each other cheerily.
I caught sight of the court wizard in the room past the rightward table, seeing him bent over his alchemy table, grinding something in his mortar. When he finished, he dumped it into a small boiling pot that sat at the head of the table, and it blew out a giant puff of blue smoke, causing the wizard to fall into a large coughing fit. Nobody at the tables turned to see if he was alright, so I assumed these types of things were a common occurrence in the house of the Jarl. Speaking of the Jarl, when I turned to look at the throne as I prepared to bow, no-one was in the throne, nor around it.
My father, flanked by my mother, continued up the steps and abruptly made a right, nearly shoving me over the railing and into a bowl of cabbage potato soup. I cursed under my breath, but continued to follow behind my parents, closer now with my sister rather than my mother, to avoid another deadly hip-checking.
"What do you think's going on?" Erith whispered to me, leaning closer.
"I'm not sure," I mumbled back to her, "something to do with combat, most likely." I could only assume, seeing as they were dressed in armour, and the only thing at the top of the steps behind the throne room was the war room. That, and the dragon-capturing chamber, but I highly doubt my father was coming to interrogate another giant lizard at this point in his life.
Sure enough, when we reached the top of the stairs, the large table with a map outlining Skyrim laid across it, was surrounded by the Jarl and some of his Imperial men. I recognized a few; a graying Idolaf Battle-Born, the father of Lars. A few stray blonde hairs peeked out from his silver mane, but for the most part he was considered the new patron of the Battle-Born's, given his years of service and the recent passing of his father. His brother, Jon, was also present and dressed in slanted Legate armor. His eyes remained focused on the parchment in front of him, and I giggled to myself, knowing he was trying to mentally sober up as fast as possible in the presence of Jarl Frothar.
The Jarl sat at the head of the table, flanked by his brother Nelkir, who served him as his Housecarl. Nelkir's eyes wander to us as we enter, and he lays his hand carefully on his sword when he sees us come up. He moves from his brother's side and stands before us, beside the steps, when we reach the top.
"Jarl Frothar summoned Legate's in the city only," he speaks roughly, wrapping his hand around the hilt of the sheathed dwarven blade, "Your daughters will have to leave."
My father smirked, "These two are freshly trained legionaries," he began, "I can vouch for them." my brows furrowed at his words. Erith and I aren't legionnaires? Was all I could think. Nelkir nodded, as if thinking, before Frothar spoke up.
"Just let them by brother," he shot to his sibling, making him back away, "we haven't got all day to prepare the Hold." Nelkir gestured for us to pass, as we did. My father took his place opposite the Jarl, and the rest of us squeezed on the longer end of the table, opposite the Battle-Born brothers.
"Now then," said Jarl Frothar, breaking the silence, "we have received word that Thalmor ships have been seen along the coast of Hammerfell and High Rock, a well as near the port of Solitude." he pauses to look at all of us before continuing.
"Reports also say that more ships continue along the coast," he says, skimming through the parchment in front of him, which must be the report, "and some witnesses from the other provinces say that some ships have docked and taken hostile action." My body tensed, as my childhood fear burned inside me. The Thalmor were coming back, and they were starting their conquest for Tamriel yet again.
"Queen Elisif says that she received word from the Emperor to threaten the ambassadors to suspend the White-Gold concordat, should they not pull back or state their purposes. The Thalmor have not yet responded, though we have been notified to be on guard, as Elenwen has gone dark." he examined us each individually, before turning to my father, glancing between him and Idolaf.
"Elisif has asked that you both take all the extra men from the hold and proceed north, ready in case the ships move landward," he paused, and addressed my mother and Jon, "and you two are to continue the training of the men, and monitor body counts for the city and the villages in the region." he paused once more, before nodding to us all, "You're dismissed."
Jarl Frothar and Nelkir stood at attention first, and proceeded down the stone steps we'd just emerged from, while the rest of us eyed each other with nervous, uneasy expressions.
"We need to prepare," spoke Idolaf, addressing my father, who was already on his way to walk beside him. My sister and I followed behind him, questions rattling my brain. My father went to reply to Idolaf, but I snapped quietly in his ear.
"Why did you tell Frothar we were with the Legion?!" I muttered fiercely next to my father, who turned abruptly.
"Well," he began, "your mother has already given you both the basic training, so technically you are." This made me stop. I had always thought that this type of training was just a mother daughter thing that she did for Erith and I, or just so we could take care of ourselves if we ever wanted to survive in Skyrim. Was it all just to form us, so we could follow in our parents' footsteps?
I felt like such a fool.
If that wasn't enough, my father continued. "We were going to propose the matter of joining the Legion to you later next week," he spoke, a bit more shyly than normally, "we wanted to let you have today as one last day of freedom."
"I can't," I snapped, fumbling for an explanation, reaching out for excuses, "I can't leave Mila, she needs someone."
"Mila's a big girl," my mother spoke from behind me, "she can manage herself."
"It's not about that!" I turned towards my mother and my sister, pleading for someone to be on my side, "her husband just left on Legion work, she can't have her only two friends leaving, too." I turned towards Erith, "Tell them!"
Erith turned from me sheepishly, rubbing her arm like she does wherever she feels guilty. My throat tightened slightly when she did this, and I felt my eyes strain as they widened with fear and anger.
"I've already decided, Braith," she said, still not meeting my gaze, "I'm joining up." Silence consumed the stairwell that we stood in. I could feel Idolaf and my fathers' eyes on the back of my head. My mother was gazing at my shoulder, not meeting my eyes, and my sister looked as if she was going to break down and sob. I spun around, stomping down the remainder of the stone steps, my metal armor clanging against the rocks. I nearly had to shove Idolaf out of my way, but at the last second he stepped out of my way.
"Braith!" my father nearly yelled at me, which made me even more angry. I turned to him with embers in my eyes and I screamed at him.
"Fus!" I cried out, putting all the anger in my shout. It glided across the side of the throne room, and I heard Nikar off to my left drawing his sword from its sheath. Idolaf wavered slightly, but my father withstood it, wincing slightly from the force shoving him back. The lack of effect on him angered me even more, and I stomped away from the crowd that had now turned, with all eyes on me.
I sat at the foot of Mila and Lars' bed, cross legged and staring angrily at their glass window. Mila was sitting near the head, just watching me, taking in this news. I expected her to join me in mouthing about my family, and how they kept this from me until now. I felt like cattle, trained and raised for a purpose; the purpose of joining the army and fighting alongside my parents. Basically what the Battle-Born's stood for, raised to keep up their legacy. Only, at least they knew they were being raised for that, whereas I didn't.
Mila's expression was calculating, not entirely upset. She may have only become a simple shop owner, but she was in no way unreasonable or stupid. She examined me as if I was a new kind of species of bird that she had just discovered, not knowing what to make of me. I came here hoping that she would agree with me, so seeing her looking to give me some helpful words only made me angrier.
"Am I the only reason for you staying?" she spoke, which surprised me. I hadn't thought that to be her first question, but it did get me thinking for a minute or two.
"No," I began, knowing if I said yes she would just try to convince me she would be fine, "I love the market, the people are lovely-"
"Do you love staring at your old house every day?" I just stared at her, speechless. Nobody often addressed my deceased family, and I never liked to think about it. I didn't know Mila that well, so having her blurt out such a question was almost offensive, but since she was the spouse of Lars, I bit my tongue.
My silence was enough for her, "I know I don't leave the city much, so I'm not really someone to ask about the outside world," she spoke to me, a warm smile on her face as she looked at me, "but you have the skills, you can make it in the harshness of Skyrim."
There was a long pause as I analyzed her. Her face showed no signs of stress or loathing. She was legitimately convinced that I should join the legion, and her sureness of the entire situation easier for me to map out.
"Besides," she broke the silence, snapping me into attention, "you can make sure Lars doesn't hurt himself when he's out in the field." we both took to giggling, feeling good to smile for the first time after the entire thing. I took the hand of Mila and looked her in the eye, smiling. She squeezed my hand as I spoke.
"Thank you, Mi" I said, standing from her bed and hugging her when she stood with me. We talked for a bit, saying our goodbyes before I stepped out from the Battle-Born home, still avoiding the gazes of Idolaf and Jon. I sighed as I leaned against the doorway once I was outside, gazing over at my childhood home just down the road, before the bridge. It was dusk, and the lights glowed in the slight darkness that loomed over the streetsides. All I could do was smile, hoping my birth parents rested easy with my newfound decision.
I made my way down the steps towards the forge. Embers still simmered in the rounded forge, strapped against the shop. All the tools and goods were brought in for the night, and I watched as the light in the room above the shop begin to dim. I turned at the forge and moved towards my home, watching the sun finally set.
When I walked into my home, my family was all at the table, eating the remnants of their late night supper. They all turned to the doorway to see me, my father hiding about half a potato in his cheek. My mother and sister both watched me, as I closed the door behind me and smiled shyly.
"I'll join the Legion," I said.