Chapter 15: War, War Never Changes. Except When It Does.
6th of Mid Year, 4E 207
"This armor itches horribly and smells weird. Someone probably died in it."
"Most likely but they can't afford to just throw it out."
"I could have made my own and it would've fit!"
Before Miraak could answer, the order came to fall inline. As they snapped to attention, he noticed out of the corner of his eye Aleaksi was still fidgeting. She'd be easy prey; he elbowed her to stop but it was too late.
"Do we have a problem recruit?!" came the bellow the despised Drill Sargent.
Aleaksi instantly focused "No sir!"
"Sir? I am not a sir you moron; I work for a living! You will address me as Sergeant or Sergeant Dornan! Have I made myself clear?!"
"Yes Sergeant!"
"Outstanding. Proceed on the double to the Quarter Master where you will stand guard duty. You will do a fine job. Do you understand?"
"Yes Sergeant!"
Godsdammit. Not again. They were going to make her 'stand guard' next to a stick with note that said, "I am very important". It was a beautiful punishment that lasted hours. Aleaksi had found this out on her first day of Basic Training.
But at least it was better than sweeping the ground or shining rocks again.
Now that was ridiculous.
Six weeks prior…
24th of Second Seed.
A Morndas.
Solitude was a beautiful city any citizen could be proud of. At the surface, its decadent buildings and sweeping skylines dripped with gilded nobility that promised all who entered an opulent way of life entrenched in finery. But like all shallow things, there was bound to be a crack or two that exposed the underbelly and made the careful observer question their surroundings and remember the subtle darkness that permeated the area.
In this case, there were just a few too many guards staring as Aleaksi and Miraak entered the courtyard of Castle Dour. They weren't met with contempt but a mixture of cautious curiosity. Apparently, word had traveled faster than they realized about Windhelm and the rumors had not been quelled.
It also didn't help that her father, the decorated Legate Siulis Midici, a man not seen in the area for some time, was leading them.
But suspicious looks and careful whispers could be ignored. What couldn't were the stern words that had been exchanged on the way to Solitude regarding their behavior – most of which was directed at Aleaksi for her recent adventures and cavalier association with daedra.
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes each time the term 'disappointed' was mentioned but she was used to her father's nagging. Sure, she had achieved Thane status in the majority of Skyrim's holds, was discovered as a living legend and was considered Arch-Mage of a highly respected magical institution but what did that matter when you hadn't written a letter to your mother or your grandparents recently? What did any of that matter when you were caught in the middle of Whiterun running from a barrage of guards with a rap sheet a mile long?
This was a guilt trip of the finest caliber crafted and refined from years of religious shaming, military discipline and good old-fashioned Medici family values. Any lesser being would have collapsed under the mental strain but not Aleaksi. She nodded along, acknowledged when prompted but otherwise let the incessant complaining and snide comments go in one ear and out the other.
Miraak watched with borderline fascination until it dawned on him that he'd seen this expression before; this was her face when they argued or when he was in the middle of a rant. He would mentally file this away for later when she annoyed him or accused him of not listening. That was the healthy response after all.
And now they were being greeted by General Tullius and Legate Rikke. The man carried himself with a quiet dignity but as they approached, a hint of curiosity glinted in his tired eyes.
Rikke saluted. "It's good to see you Siulis. I hope you and Freja are well. I wish this meeting was under different circumstances." she said in a softer voice.
"Same to you Rikke." He nodded "General. As requested,"
Tullius sighed and looked them over. "So, you're the two that Ulfric is after. Perhaps I should be directing you to the nearest prison."
Aleaksi swallowed. "I believe we've already met. It was six years ago at Helgen."
"Right. Helgen. One of the prisoners if I recall correctly."
Out of the corner of her eye, Aleaksi saw her father stiffen. Oh hell.
"But you had also helped Hadvar which pardoned any crimes previously committed. I would like to think you've kept your nose clean, but I can see now this is not the case. Reports from Markarth indicate another stent in jail – which was also later pardoned under some very interesting circumstances…"
Tullius produced a thick scroll of paper and slowly unrolled it.
"But here we have it – the culmination of nearly a decades' worth of thievery, trespassing, public intoxication, assault, inciting riots, murder, and – my personal favorite - unpaid taxes. But now," he rolled the paper back up "we can add domestic terrorism to the list."
She could feel her father's stare. Oh yes, the bitching would continue into perpetuity.
"Nothing to say?"
"I'm not a bad person."
"Of course, you're not. This is just eight years of you being framed and not eyewitness testimony with considerable evidence." He said with a snarl. "You might be someone important to Skyirm, but you will receive no special treatment from me. Being a cult-hero does not put you above the law of the Empire, is that clear?"
Aleaksi nodded, rooted to the ground. Gods this was bad. So very very bad. But the focus was taken from her as Tullius turned to Miraak.
"And you. Apart from recent events, we don't know a damn thing about who you are or where you're from. By all accounts you shouldn't exist. Raven Rock has no record of you, House Redoran has never heard of you, and yet you claim Solsthim as your place of origin."
"You did not talk to the Skaal then."
Tullius snorted. "We did. Superstitious nonsense from a backwater Nordic tribe doesn't count as certified government documentation. You don't exist. So who are you?"
"I'm a very old librarian with a penchant for bad decisions. Now, how will you charge me with a crime since I 'don't exist'?"
"Don't worry, we'll find a way." he crossed his arms. "Based on this paper, I should be sending you both to the executioners block – the murder charge in Riftin alone would confirm that. But several other actions have been brought to my attention."
Aleaksi tilted her head slightly but remained silent.
"The people of Dawnstar can sleep again due to destruction of a powerful daedric artifact. The Jarl of Morthal speaks highly of you for solving their vampire problem. The people of Falkreath hold you in high regard as do the people of Whiterun despite a recent city ban for illegal substance use and disorderly conduct."
"That skooma wasn't mine. I was holding it for a friend." Aleaksi cut in. It was a partial truth.
Her father pinched his brow in frustration but said nothing. It was a silent prayer that Akatosh would either smite them all or at least make his daughter a mute.
Tullius continued and ignored the comment. "And even here, Falk Firebeard gave a glowing reprisal for how you handled the Potema incident. Your actions are contradictory to the charges brought against you. Care to explain?"
She cleared her throat. "Sometimes rules get in the way of doing the right thing. I was charged with murder and yes, I admit I took the life of someone – but it was justified. The woman was Gerlod the 'kind', the caretaker of Honor Hall orphanage. I understand this sounds very bad, but I did what I did with good reason."
"And what is that reason?"
"The abuse of children had gone on for far too long. They were being starved and beaten and there was…significant evidence of this." She said with distaste "I understand I should have gone to the Jarl but when I saw the room with shackles on the wall, I just lost it. The old bat didn't suffer, and I took no joy in the action, but those children are better off now and some of them are actually being adopted."
"And do you think it wise to take the law into your own hands?"
"Only when it is ineffective or slow acting. Complaints had been lodged several times over but that foul woman wasn't removed. I don't know if she had dirt on someone or what, but it got to the point that a child attempted to summon the Dark Brotherhood. Is that the lesson they should be learning? I should think not. Now I may have shot the arrow, but Riften and its corrupt system had been failing them for years."
Tullius didn't indicate that he approved of her actions but a slight shift in stance showed he understood.
"And what of Windhelm?"
Miraak spoke up. "Ulfric summoned us to remove a dragon, then turned his guards on us when the conversation did not go in his favor. I acted in our best interest."
"Are you trying to say this was a show of force and nothing more?"
"It could be stripped down to that, yes."
"Half a city is gone; people are displaced, and this is all because of egos."
"Yes. I told Ulfric what would happen if he did not let us leave. His response was 'show me'. Who am I to refuse this request?"
"You're a man that should have considered the consequences first."
"General, are you so sure you wouldn't have acted in a similar show of force?"
Tullius ignored this. "You clearly have no remorse about your decision."
"None. Ulfric Stormcloak is a failed tongue, a coward and an idiot. He hides behind a weak ideology in an attempt to grasp power he'll never obtain. And now his city is collapsing along with his resources and while his coffers run dry. It's hard to fight a war with starving soldiers that aren't being paid."
They were all thinking it, but someone had finally said it; the Legion now had a significant advantage even if the cost had been high. But there was something off about the man in front of him. As he spoke of Windhelm, a cold, calculating detachment appeared in his eyes. He was right, no remorse at all - whereas Aleaksi practically radiated shame as her charges were read. But here they were, a narcissistic sociopath and a naïve vigilante. Two very powerful individuals with two very different stances.
Regardless, there was still a war that had to be won and he would be a fool to overlook their abilities.
"It is my understanding that a dragon was summoned to destroy the city. I was not aware they could be commanded in this manner."
"They can be. It is a shout that bends their will to ours. It is most effective."
"And does Ulfric know this shout?"
"No. Only Aleaksi and myself. This shout was not created by Dov."
"You're leaving something out."
"I am but such details would only complicate an already tenuous situation. Now General, do you require our assistance or not? I believe we've been civil enough."
Rikke's eyebrows shot up. A bold gesture and an interesting gamble; Tullis smirked in response but it lacked humor.
"Very well then, we'll get right down to it. You're both still considered criminals in the eyes of the Empire despite any advantage that stunt may have given us. You're both civilians and should therefore be sent to Windhelm for trial and sentencing. However, if you were to join the Legion, such things can be avoided."
And there was the rub; as it is said, eventually everything comes full circle. Aleaksi inwardly groaned as a particular drunken night in Markarth played over and over in her head; the moment could only be made better if one of those soldiers had been present. She wanted nothing more than to laugh loud and hard, but the atmosphere was far too somber for that.
So, this was their choice – military life where they would most likely be sent to the frontlines or inevitable sentencing and possible execution. Both outcomes were highly unfavorable.
"Just how long are we expected to…assist?" Aleaksi spoke up.
"Until a favorable resolution is reached with this war. Do we have an agreement?"
Miraak looked to Aleaksi who nodded.
"In joining the Legion, you'll be taking an oath binding you to the service of the Emperor and thus to every citizen of the Empire."
"We're ready to take the oath." Miraak said almost grudgingly.
"Well then. Repeat after me. 'Upon my honor I do swear undying loyalty to the Emperor, Titus Mede II...'"
They repeated every line, their right hands raised, their left in a fist over their hearts. It felt weirdly wrong; they weren't joining out of patriotism or a sense of honor, but rather to avoid punishment. To Aleaksi, the words rang hollow but what could she do? After they were done, she felt a hand on her shoulder and a gentle squeeze; it was her father.
"Dad, how horrible is this going to be?"
"You'll be fine sweetheart. Just get through Boot first. The key is to keep your head down and do as you're told then after that, you'll get your real assignment."
"And then?"
"And then you'll make us proud. Now the murder bit sounds justified but what was that about theft and assault and taxes? And just what did you say to Ulfric to set him off?"
"Absolutely nothing that wasn't true and all of that talk of riots and jail is a filthy lie."
Miraak coughed and she glared at him.
"Of courseit is darling and I'm sure your mother will find all of this very amusing."
Shit.
Present Day…
If it wasn't raining and muddy, it was humid and sticky as was common for Mid Year. But no matter the weather, every day was the same; drills, inspections, combat training, more drills, hand-to-hand training and specialty weapons. But the absolute worst was the assault course. It was as if it had been designed with the intent to ruin lives. Aleaksi inwardly groaned; she ached everywhere.
"Get the lead out of your asses and move!" came the roar of the Drill Sargent.
They'd been marching for a few miles through dense fog; eyes forward, perfect formation and god save anyone that got out of line. The rout was always the same; they'd start in Solitude, march to Dragon Bridge, then it was the long stretch on to Morthal. Sometimes, they would cut through the swamps and cross the river and sometimes, they would go back the way they came. It all heavily depending on the generosity of those in-charge.
Obviously during these boring excursions, this was the perfect time to reflect on everything that had happened up until this point. Aleaksi continued to ask herself the same question that had been running through her mind from the first day; would some more jail time really have been so bad?
Except that she wouldn't have gone to jail. Tullis made it very clear she and Miraak would be turned over in full compliance with the charges they were facing. It's amazing what could disappear when you were deemed 'useful'.
She glanced in Miraak's direction; of course, he was taking this seriously, but he'd managed to get on their good side the first day. For a man that loathed being told what to do, he'd taken to military life exceptionally well. Granted he already had his borderline obsessive morning routine, so the workout portion wasn't a challenge, but this was different. He was plotting again, and she knew it. He was being far too charismatic.
Then again, the deck had been stacked in his favor from the beginning. He was a large man that was – as far as they knew – of Nordic heritage. He'd clearly proven his loyalty to the Empire by joining the Legion and then once word got around about Windhelm, they were practically lining up to shake his hand. Sure, they acknowledged her, but it wasn't the same.
Gods, was she jealous?
Aleaksi mentally shook her head. Now was not the time to be having such thoughts even if it was a distraction from the throbbing in her feet and the pain in her calves and shins. They'd been marching an obscenely long time until finally, the order was given to halt. She looked around as much as she could without moving her head and realized where they were: Fort Hraggstad. They had veer north and she never even noticed. Thankfully, they were just far enough away she could make out the towers, but this had to be for safety reasons. Fort Hraggstad was a crumbling mess but it was still riddled with bandits. Nothing about this seemed like a good idea.
The Sargent addressed them. "Boys and girls, you're looking at your first real test. Unfortunately, it has an infestation problem. Your objective is clear; make this a happy home and have dinner ready by sundown or don't come back."
The words hung in the air. Some of the men around her looked visibly worried; they were the farmers and tradesmen that had never shot a bow or lifted a sword as an act of defense and now, suddenly they were coming face to face with life and death all at once. Some would freeze in a panic induced state and some would run; Aleaksi didn't blame them. At no point was any of this made easier by the knowledge that it was kill or be killed. These were murderers and thieves after all and being taken captive was not an option.
"You. Tiny." The Sargent pointed at Miraak "Step forward."
He did as instructed ignoring the jab and standing at attention.
"You will be in charge of this squad. Pass or fail it falls on you. Understood?"
He gave a curt nod.
"Outstanding." And with that, the man turned on his heel, mounted his horse and left for Solitude.
Miraak turned to the group in front of them, studying faces that ranged from battle-hardened to green horn. Mercenaries and Farmers, that's what they were. One extreme to the other. But He had to say something soon, they were expecting it. Gods how many years had it been since he'd been involved with this type warfare? Too many. Those skirmishes with the Snow Elves from his youth were buried deep in his memories and he'd rather they stay there.
"We will divide into three sections and approach this with tactics and timing. If we are lucky and you listen when orders are given, this will be over quickly. If you act on your own, you endanger your life as well as those around you." His tone was firm. "This is not a death or glory mission; they won't be writing sonnets about this. Act accordingly and you will survive."
He had their full attention now. Good. If they were successful, he would benefit greatly. If they failed…well, they weren't going to fail.
"Archers to the left, heavy infantry to the center, everyone else to the right. Scouts, come forward."
Two rather scrawny looking men stepped up; one was a former thief and the other a beggar.
"Are you familiar with the area?" they nodded. "Find blind spots along the wall from the trees and disable any traps you come across. Return in thirty minutes."
He turned back to the now divided groups assessing their size. They appeared to be short on archers and heavy on swords, but this wouldn't be an issue. From each group a leader was selected; a Breton man from the swords, a Bosmer woman from the archers and Aleaksi from the heavies.
"Once the scouts return, archers will take position. Take as many of their archers out as you can. We don't need arrows raining down while we're trying to avoid axes." The bosmer woman nodded. "Heavies will rush in after the initial volley led by Aleaksi and myself. This is important; they're going to counter rush us at this point and they will need to be shouted back. Swords will come in from the rear entrances after this to avoid being thrown into a wall. Heavies will draw the bulk of the attack from the front and Archers will provide overwatch."
As the other two left to relay the orders, Aleaksi hung back for a moment.
"That's a good plan but I have some questions."
"Of course you do."
"Isn't this…excessive? I mean we're talking maybe twenty bandits at the most. You and I could handle this by ourselves."
He smiled faintly. "We could easily but this isn't about us. It's to test the group as a whole and to weed out the cowards before we're thrown at the Stormcloaks. They want to see how organized we are and how effective the training is."
"That's understandable but how did learn to do all this?" She gestured.
"Apocrypha is, as you know, very boring. Sometimes I had to entertain myself in creative ways. After reading tactical books I would apply that knowledge and measure the results."
"You pit seekers and lurkers against each other in some kind of arena battle, didn't you?"
"Yes, and don't give me that look. You would do the same thing in my position."
"I would not, and I didn't 'give you a look'."
"You did but we're not having that fight right now. Go back to the others so they know what to do while I sort this out."
She rolled her eyes and made a face at him once his back was turned. He was right, this wasn't the time or place for a spat, but she was still annoyed.
The men in front of her looked up from their conversations expectantly.
"Archers cover us from the roof and walls, we go in the front and draw the main attack."
One of the younger nervous men spoke up "Why are we the ones doing all the work?"
"We're not. We're a distraction so the swords can come in behind and clean house. We're better equipped to take hits while they deal damage."
There's was some murmuring and scuffling. Aleaksi raised her eyebrows "Is there a problem with this?"
"No no…" the man rubbed the back of his neck "it's just…is this armor going to be enough? It's a bit loose."
This concern was understandable; she knew she wasn't the only one with ill-fitting gear and now, the others had noticed as well. She took off her helmet and motioned the man to come forward. At first, he was confused, until she started making adjustments. The leather straps were almost completely worn out and steel had seen better days, but it would deflect a sword or an axe at least. Without prompting, the others lined up and she inwardly sighed. At least it was something to do while they waited for the scouts.
When the scouts returned, they fell in line. The time was drawing closer to the final attack and with it, tensions were building. Miraak paced between the groups inspecting their readiness and making adjustments where needed. When finally, they were ready, they moved forward. The archers took first position picking off the lookouts that would alert the other bandits too early but soon it was clear an attack was underway.
The bandits appeared as a fierce hoard, but they were quickly subdued; Aleaksi's initial shout scattered several who were cut down. The clang of blades on shields echoed loudly but all too soon it was over, and the decrepit courtyard was clear. There was a cheer from the men and a significant boost in moral. While their accomplishment was small, they reveled in it just the same.
From that point they formed groups again to deal with the bodies, reestablish defenses and clear out any sign of the former inhabitants. The structure had a long way to go in terms of becoming a proper fort, but this was a start. Miraak inspected each group as he knew what was expected of them. Despite holding the same rank and title as the rest of them, no one questioned his perceived authority. This caught Aleaksi's attention and everything he had inferred finally made sense; speak confidently, act like you know what you're doing, and they'll never question you. He looked up, caught her expression and smirked slightly. You arrogant ass...
By Dusk, general clean-up had been completed and long term set up was underway. The Sargent returned this time accompanied by Legate Rikke to assess their progress. The familiar call to fall in line was given. As each soldier assembled, the tension in the air heightened. What was next? Another Fort or perhaps more marching? Would they march all the way to Falkreath like they'd been threatened with or would it be something worse?
The Sargent continued to eye them until the shuffling stopped. He cleared his throat.
"I believe this is satisfactory. Legate?"
"Agreed. Soldiers, with the capture of this Fort, you have demonstrated a basic understanding of what it is to be unified, to follow orders without hesitation, and to complete your objective. Due to the demands of this war, this will serve as your graduation from basic. Tomorrow each of you will report to Castle Dour. Sleep well tonight, you've earned it. Dismissed!"
Aleaksi blinked. Wait, it was over? That was it? Six horrendous weeks of sweat and blisters and all they got was the equivalent of a pat on the head. Gods she hated the military. The men around her shuffled around not saying much; whether it was due to exhaustion, relief or both there wasn't a lot of chatter until everyone was inside. Then the kegs were opened, and mead flowed.
As the evening progressed, she allowed herself to indulge but not heavily; as she took another drink she almost spat it out as an unfamiliar arm settled around her shoulders. It was one of the more obnoxious men she'd been avoiding.
"No." she said sharply pushing his arm off.
"Oh c'mon, let's celebrate a little." His speech was slightly slurred, but he was by no means incoherent. "I know you're interested. I've seen ya lookin'."
"I highly doubt that. Now go away."
"What are ya scared? Don't worry baby I'll be gentle-" She felt a hand squeeze her backside.
His words were cut short as her fist made contact with the cartilage. She flexed her hand and winced; something had popped in a bad way, but it was worth it. A large group had gathered around them in a circle as was typical for a fight.
The man jumped up; his lecherous grin replaced by scorned anger as blood flowed freely out of his nose. Who did this bitch think she was to strike him? He'd show her a thing or two. He took a step forward, readied his fist to throw a punch but his arm came up short. He slowly turned to the source and balked.
Miraak loomed over the man, a cold rage emanating from him that was borderline feral. He did not speak but the point was clear; you've crossed a line.
Aleaksi knew this look and acted quickly. She had a temper that had resulted in more than one brawl but that was the extent of it. The last time he lost his, there had been significantly less dragon skeletons around his temple. She placed a hand on his arm.
"People are watching," She hissed "let the idiot go."
Miraak released him but the man wasn't finished. "So, you're going to defend that whore? You'll probably get a rash-"
"If you continue to insult my wife, I'll remove your tongue, so it doesn't betray you again." The surrounding group seemed to shrink back. Aleaksi stared hard at Miraak clearly caught off guard by his choice of phrasing. There would be words later but for now she wasn't going to correct him in front of the others. There was usually a method to his madness.
"Y-your wife?" the man sputtered. "She didn't say-"
"She shouldn't have to." Miraak snapped cutting him off. "Now leave."
The man slinked away, and the crowd disbursed leaving the two of them. There was another heavy silence but this time, there was the usual undertone of awkwardness.
"Your 'wife' huh? That's a hell of a way to propose."
"I wasn't proposing."
"My mistake." Aleaksi continued to stare at him expectantly.
Miraak stared back crossing his arms but saying nothing; Aleaski pushed for more.
"Still, its quite a declaration to make."
"Indeed."
Stubborn bastard.
"Are you going to elaborate or are we just going to keep doing this for the rest of the night?" she demanded putting her hands on her hips.
He sighed. "Consider it a form of protection and a way to stave off annoyances."
"You think I can't defend myself."
"I didn't say that."
"You implied it."
"I implied nothing. Quit assuming I'm trying to belittle you and look at what just happened. That little shit wasn't the first to say something inappropriate about you, but he was the first to act. You have no idea the things they've said and before you start, no you can't just go around punching them all."
"And you can?"
"That's not what I meant, and you know it."
"Oh so now I'm protected because they think I'm owned."
He snarled. "No, they know you're off limits because of what I'll do to them if they lay a hand on you because they think you're my wife. You're not 'owned', you have looking out for you. And most of these aren't honorable. They won't think twice about trying to hurt you."
She considered this for a moment. "I can defend myself you know."
"I have no doubts about that but how many times are you going to break your hand in the process?"
She instinctively flexed her hand and winced. Now that her anger and adrenaline had worn off, her knuckles were swollen and tender to the touch.
Miraak watched her for a moment then held out his hand. "Let me see it."
"I'm fine. Doesn't hurt at all."
"So, if I poke at it or squeeze it, you're not going to squeal and hit me?"
"Nope."
"Aleaksi."
"Miraak."
It was turning into a strange standoff; yes, there was tension but of a different nature. It had stopped being about her hand and evolved into a much-needed discussion regarding boundaries.
Aleaksi sighed. "Look, I threw the punch, I can fix my own hand."
"Your restoration skills are dreadful."
"I know but…you don't always need to do things for me."
"I don't do a lot of things for you."
"Well, you do more than I like."
"Such as?"
"Such as…nothing I can think of right now but there are things! And it gets annoying after a while!"
He stared at her and sighed. "Fine. Now let me see your hand."
She gave him a pointed look but held it out. He gently took it, concentrated for a moment and soft glow enveloped her. When he finished, he rubbed a thumb over her bruised knuckles gently and gauged her expression.
"Better?"
"Yes." Her expression was no longer stubborn but sullen.
"Then why are you pouting?" he said with a grin.
"I am not pouting!" He was winding her up again and she knew it.
"Yes you are." He slid an arm around her and pulled her close. "but it's fine. You've had a long day and apparently I've been just awful to you."
She wanted to stay mad at him, she really did but when he held her like that, she lost focus. The horrid man knew how to push her buttons and then get back on her good side all in one motion.
"I'm sure I can think of several ways to make it up to you…" he purred into her ear. "Rub your feet, massage your back…"
Perhaps the evening would turn out well. "We should go back to Solitude. We've got a long night ahead of us."
Aleaksi smiled knowingly and lead him by the hand toward the entrance of the fort where a cart was waiting. They still had much to discuss but for now, they were in agreement. The six weeks of misery and bad food were finally over, now it was time to relax and celebrate.