Chapter 42

Ragnthor

He cut the thing in front of him in half, thinking tactics, maybe they are getting smarter, even as Lydia served the head of another and Lucia caught the jaws of a chaurus on her shield, allowing Serana to spear it with ice bolts.

A short while later they had finished the fight. "What were those things!" asked Lucia.

"Falmer," he replied. "The shattered remains of the Snow Elves."

"Snow Elves?" she said as she cleaned her sword.

He nodded. "Long ago, back in the days of the Mythic Era, there were 8 or 9 different races of Mer, most descended in some way from the Aldmer. The Altmer or High Elves, the Bosmer or Wood Elves, the Dunmer or Dark Elves, and the Osimer or Orcs are still here today. The Maormer or Sea Elves live far south of the Summerset Isles. The Ayleids or Wild Elves, the Chimer or Changed Ones, the Dwemer or as we know them Dwarves, the Cantemiric Velothi from Blackmarsh, and the Ancient Falmer or Snow Elves have long since been gone from this world for one reason or another. In the case of the Snow Elves it was we Nords, or I guess the Atmorans, that signed their death knell."

"The Atmorans?"

He sighed. "Lydia, Serana clear the way ahead. Lucia needs to know this, as it concerns our family." He turned to Lucia, who was looking at him with wide eyes. "What do you know of the Atmorans flight?"

"Nothing."

"Back in the Merethic Era, for that is its proper name, the first humans came to Tamriel from across the Sea of Ghosts. The great king Ysgramor, though he was no king yet, and those who followed him had fled from a civil war. They settled on the north coast, and there befriended the local mer folk for the whole of this land was theirs. Our numbers were small at first, but soon grew. We humans reproduce quickly compared to mer, perhaps due in part to our shorter life spans."

"What happened?"

"We had befriended the Snow Elves, a race that rivaled the High Elves in terms of power. But, as we spread further and further into the land that is now called Skyrim, they grew fearful. So they launched an attack of fury fueled by fear. And they caught us unaware, because we were beginning a war of our own with the Osimer. With the full of their power they burned us out. The Night of Tears. Only Ysgramor and 2 of his sons survived and fled back across the sea."

"But where did we come from?"

"They were amongst the 500 Companions. When Ysgramor returned he found the war over. And so he raised an army to seek vengeance. 500 warriors answered the call. Every one was titled and feared. Ysgramor roused their blood and they came. Their ranks were simple. First was Ysgramor, and then his sons, then each captain commanded his crew." He stopped and sat, giving a shrill whistle, and pulled out some food.

Soon Lydia and Serana were back and they sat down. "It was so long ago, we are lucky we have records, but our family line truly started here, in this country. Brunhil the Savage was a pirate. And she lived up to her name. Ill-tempered and cruel, she had made a name for herself on the sea. She raided without mercy any town she thought she could take and left ships floating with butchered bodies and untouched holds, only leaving carvings of her standard, a roaring bear. It is from her that we get the ability to fight. Blonde haired and short, her twin axes carved her a name to be feared. It is said it is only a whim that turned her south, the desire to have her axes drink deep of new foes. 40 souls called her captain, each as brutal and uncaring as her. Of the man she was to win as her husband she knew not before the Return."

"Brul the Bull was a warrior who had come of age during the civil war. A big man, writings in Windhelm put him at least as big as myself. He was a man who walked alone, and preferred it that way. Quick to anger and slow to cool, as his title implies, it actually comes from a drunken wager. To fight a bull with no weapons or armor. He joined the crew of the Sadon Reyth. He kept to himself during the passage, only helping when needed. He had heard of Brunhil before they left, and in the sailing his opinion of her was reaffirmed. A child, untempered by war, flitting from one fight to the next. He was her senior by 10 years. Black haired and grey eyed, on the retaking of Saarthal his warhammer crushed hundreds of elves in a silent fury. It was there they first truly met. Brunhil was backed into a corner by more than 3 dozen elves, enough so that even she couldn't fight back. Brul noticed and waded in, hammer bloody. Swords bounced off his armor, spells had no effect. With hammer and fist he broke the line enough for the tide to turn so he could look down at the small woman. 'Fight smarter, child' was all he said before walking away. From that day forth she changed, ever so slightly. And she hunted him, as a she panther hunts a mate. A mate hard to find as Brul wandered the dark paths of this new land alone."

"But in time she found him and in even more he relented. And they fought side by side, until the death of Ysgramor. They were fighting Valenwood when he died and the next morning buried their weapons deep in the Bosmeri soil as a mark of respect for the man who had led them to their new home. And then they left to return to Skyrim and settled in the hills outside of Whiterun, Brunhil still being quick to anger and violent and Brul knowing he was the same when pushed."

"So we lead to…this?"

"Aye. A once proud race doomed to savagery. Never again has anything like this truly been done. Races have come and gone but never in this way."

"And we have always been in Whiterun? Then how come…"

"Our family has not reached the size of a clan? Because we are gifted to fight and we like it. In every war since The Return there has been at least one of us. And so many of us die. But we endure as though the gods themselves have a vested interest in us, despite our small families. Brunhil and Brul only had 3 children of which only 2 made it to adult hood and only the daughter had children. And so here we are, as solid as the rocks that surround us, one of the few families that can truly trace their roots through The Return, and as such bare the mark of shame for the falmer."

Serana, looked at him, eyes wide. "So you are descended from the Bull and the Savage? Then our families fought once, long ago. 2 women claiming them as family. It was as dear a fight as we have ever had."

Ragnthor nodded. "Ah, so it was you that ended the twins."

"Twins? But they were…"

"Bruna was turned when she was 17. The details are vague but she is no Daughter of Cold Habour. As her twin Ursa was honor bound to watch over her, prevent her from turning another. For near to 50 years she kept that vow. After a fight that would have seen her left for dead, Bruna offered her a chance to continue to honor her vow. They were true inheritors. In fact they nearly ended our line. Their parents only had one more child, 20 years younger than the twins."

She looked at him in awe. "Do you really know everyone in your family?"

"Only those who inherited. Brunhil was the first we know of. She had 2 brothers and a sister, no signs. Brul had 5 brothers. And there has been a branch or 2. A handful of us became Bretons and lost the Catalyst. A few more Imperials, and even some Redguards."

"What of Lydia's Family?"

"Well, I'm a Nord as pure as Ragnthor so my family came from Atmora. But we were neither in the 500 nor the last with Tiber. We merely came. And every society has a class that doesn't mean much. That was use. We came and worked and made no great name. My grandfather died a stable hand, and grandmother was a seamstress. My mother did nothing and my father was a drunk. In a different time, in a different place, me and Ragnthor would have never been together. At least as we are now. But Freynar was different, and so was Ragnthor." She blushed as she gave him a quick kiss.

A voice rose out of the darkness. "A child of the 500. As your wife said, in another time and place, I would have been honor bound to try and kill you. As it stands now," a tall, pale man stepped out of the darkness, "I have need of your help."

Ragnthor stood, eyes wide. "By the gods of mer and men, a Snow Elf."

"Indeed, one of the last I fear." He bowed. "I am Gelebor, Knight-Paladin of Auri-El."

Author's Note: Congrats! you just sat through a history lesson. that I thought of Months ago. And I didn't want to get rid of, and I couldn't follow well, so I just gave up and released a half chapter. But it will hopefully flow better for the next one. Honestly, I could write a whole story about Brul and Brunhil...