Chapter Two

General Tullius

The shout stopped him from almost falling asleep. He had been leaning over the table while Rikke reported her failure to bring the Dragonborn and Falk Fire-Beard's intervention before it escalated to violence when the castle shook, and the shout tore through the air. He was out the door in a flash, just in time to see a squadron of soldiers surround a tall Nord standing in the centre of the courtyard.

"Stand down!" He barked as he pushed his way though. The soldiers all parted as he stalked forward, the occasional 'general' leaving their lips. Standing in front of the Dragonborn, he realised just how large the man was, even by the standards of Nords. He was closer in height to an Altmer, but broad across the shoulders, powerful arms crossed over his chest with a smattering of scars on them. "The Dragonborn, I presume?"

"Well I doubt that Ulfric would shout down your gate without his army behind him," he replied. "And the Greybeards are sworn to peace, so there's that as well."

"Was destroying my gate necessary?"

"Was trying to execute me without cause necessary?" the Dragonborn countered.

Ah. It was going to be like that, then.

Tullius sighed. "You don't come when I summon you. Why?"

"Come meet me yourself," the Nord said, "I was a stone's throw away, after all."

"That's not how this works, Dragonborn," Tullius said, "whether or not you support the Empire or the Stormcloaks, respect is expected."

"Respect is earned, not assured," the Dragonborn said, "and my name is Karsten, not Dragonborn. How many people address you as Imperial General?"

"More than you'd think, Karsten," Tullius told him with a wry smile, "I apologise for not seeking you out personally. May we talk now?"

"It's why I'm here," Karsten said, and his eyes flickered in suspicion, before settling back into their dispassionate steel colour. "Lead the way, General."

Tullius led him to the war-room, the maps long since cleared away, and Rikke closed the door behind her. He didn't fail to notice the way that the Dragonborn tracked her movement, relaxing slightly once she wasn't behind him anymore.

"I'm sure you can understand that it would be against your best interest to join the Stormcloaks," Tullius told him. "Then I'd have to devote an entire cohort to tracking you down."

"It would be against your best interest to threaten me, general," Karsten replied evenly, "that said, I have no intention in joining with Ulfric and his ilk."

"And why not?" Rikke challenged, "does your father not fight for Ulfric?"

"Do you not know?" Karsten asked in surprise, "your spy network must be awful. My father was killed by supporters of Ulfric not long after he killed Torryg. I was hunting him down when you and your soldiers decided to cut my head off."

"What?" Tullius blinked, "that doesn't match the report I was given. I was told that you were captured scouting the pass where we ambushed Ulfric. My captain told me you were a Stormcloak scout."

"Yes, she did seem rather eager to have as many Nords killed as possible. Was she fresh from Cyrodiil by chance?" Karsten's tone was knowing, and Tullius withheld a curse. It did no good to curse the dead, no matter what they had done. It was a waste of time.

"Let me be the first to extend my apologies then, Dragonborn, and assure you that the Legion will not pursue any further legal charges against you, unless you break our laws."

"I'm sure simply existing at this point is breaking a law, General," Karsten laughed, "how do you think the Emperor in Cyrodiil is going to feel when he finds out that there's a Nordic Dovahkiin in Skyrim? That would make any politician nervous."

"He's got a point," Rikke agreed, though she seemed rather disgruntled by it. "We may be ordered to apprehend him regardless."

"You haven't done anything wrong," Tullius stated, firmly this time, "and I will make sure to stress that in my next report to the Imperial City."

"You really have no idea what I symbolise, do you General?" Karsten cocked his head to the side. "I'm a Nord, and I'm Dragonborn. The last man like me was Talos, and he founded the Empire you fight for. Only, Talos never killed any dragons. He learned his power through the Greybeards, and even at his prime, his power wouldn't reach mine. General Tullius, I am the largest internal threat Titus Mede has faced, ever. Prepare yourself for that possibility."

"And what if those orders are given?" Rikke asked quietly. Tullius was still trying to wrap his head around what the two were telling him. The Dragonborn hadn't done anything wrong. They couldn't arrest him for simply existing, could they? He knew that the Emperor sometimes had to make hard decisions, and sometimes they were bloody decisions, but this was…politics.

"I suppose it depends on when the order comes through," Karsten replied with a shrug, "if it is before I have dealt with Alduin, I won't be coming in. The World-Eater is the largest threat we have, and fighting this war isn't helping. If Alduin has been slain… well, I imagine I'd be an even larger threat than I already am. I would go to Cyrodiil."

Karsten was silent for a moment.

"You've been remarkably civil for a military governor," he stated, "so let me give you this free information. Halfway between Solitude and Dragon Bridge is a small hill on the left side of the road. There's a goat path that starts behind the hill. It leads to a Stormcloak camp. They've started constructing siege equipment, which I find incredibly arrogant. If you want to blind Ulfric to your movements here, I'd eliminate it."

"That's not possible," Tullius said, "our scouts assured us that Haafinger was safe!"

"Then you need new scouts," Karsten laughed, "and I'd investigate the ones you have. Perhaps find out what their relationship with the executed guard, Roggvir, was."

"I—thank you, Dragonborn," Tullius stated. "You're free to go."

"Likewise, General," Karsten said, pulling a coin purse out. It was large, likely a couple hundred Septims in it. "For the gate."

"Let me escort you, Iron-Sides," Rikke said, shooting Tullius a look that she would explain later. "At least to the gates."

"I'd appreciate the company," he said, "I need to recover my huscarl from whichever tavern she's decided to invade. I hope it's still standing."

"Nord girl, is she?" Rikke asked, "best warriors in Tamriel."

"Of that," Karsten said, "I have no doubt. Do you know she once leapt from a cliff to—"

The door closed behind them, and Tullius let a breath he didn't know he had been holding. He collapsed backwards into a chair as he comprehended what he had learned.

The Dragonborn wasn't necessarily a foe, and under other circumstances, they may have even been able to recruit him to their cause. But there was also the issue of Cyrodiil. Rikke and the Dragonborn had been correct. If the Emperor saw him as a threat, and decided that he needed to be apprehended, Tullius would have no choice but to arrest him, and with a force bolstered by Nordic Auxiliaries, and the Legions dominated by them, there could be a revolt on his hand. The last thing the Empire needed was a civil war to be won only to have the legions that won it revolting for a legend. Even a living one.

As had become his habit, Tullius poured himself a glass of Colovian wine as he read through his reports. Most were from the forward camps and garrisons, but a few were from roaming scouts and spies. Most of those reports were on Stormcloak movements, or the political balance in the holds, but a few were on the Thalmor, who were becoming a massive terror on the Nordic population. It sickened Tullius to let them get away with it, but orders were orders, and for now, the Aldmeri Dominion were 'allies', and the Thalmor their representatives.

The last one, however, intrigued him the most. It was from his nephew, stationed on the border in Cyrodiil with the Eighth Legion. As a legate himself, Quintus Tullius was allowed to send official communiques with anyone he saw fit, and they normally made their way to himself, all the way up in Skyrim.

General Tullius, it started, scouts have picked up increased bandit activity on the border. They are armed with superior weapons than most. Suspect third party involvement. Advice requested.

It was rather succinct, but the fact that it came on such a large sheet confused him. A third of the paper would have been enough, but the words were written at the very top, despite the fact that the sheet was folded in three. Staring at the letter for a long while, Tullius began to notice the paper darkening at the bottom, where it was held near the candle, and like a block had been removed, he suddenly remembered a day he had spent with Quintus when his nephew was just a boy—they had written notes to each other using lemon juice to make it invisible, holding them above a flame to reveal the secret messages later on.

He held the letter above a candle, close enough to warm it, but not enough to burn it. He watched with interest as an entire new block of writing appeared, dominating most of the page.

It read,

Uncle Julius,

I hope this portion isn't visible to you when it arrives. As I stated, bandit activity has increased on the border, though the situation is far worse than you would be told. They are armed with quality weapons and armour made of steel and other, rarer metals. The consensus among the other officers in the Eighth, Ninth, and Thirteenth is that the Dominion is supplying them. We have sent requests to the Imperial City for reinforcements, but none are available. We are tied down on all fronts.

I know that asking you to end the civil war in Skyrim quickly is absurd, so I won't even bother, but you have contacts in the capital. I beg of you, we need help, and badly. If not, we may lose the border to the bandits. If it is not possible… well, we can always use advice as to what to do. Dealing with civil unrest has always been your specialty, and your actions during the Great War has earned you much respect among the legions here.

Rikke entered at that moment, but he held a hand up to stop her from talking. To her credit, she stood patiently while he finished reading.

General Marius moved his headquarters from Skingrad to one of the legion camps, which should tell you the severity of the situation we are dealing with. He's brought Lucius Sertorius with him, and both send their regards to you. The general asked me to remind you of the drink you owe him, and that he plans on collecting the next time you are both in the Imperial City.

Your nephew, Quintus

Tullius handed the letter to Rikke wordlessly. She scanned it quickly.

"Invisible ink?" She asked with a quirked eyebrow. Tullius shrugged in response. "The situation isn't good, clearly. Perhaps we could raise a cohort of men and transfer them to the southern border?"

"We need them here, and desperately," Tullius countered, "Skyrim is the second largest of the provinces, and we're stretched dangerously thin. I'll see about Bruma raising some new troops. I still have some clout there."

"Very good, sir," Rikke said.

"What did you and the Dragonborn discuss?" He asked.

"Of his housecarl, mostly," Rikke answered, "but I did manage to secure a deal with him, sir."

"Oh?"

"In exchange for getting access to our camps and more specifically, our quartermasters, he'll report any Stormcloak camp to the local legates," Rikke reported proudly.

"That's rather bold of you to do without my permission," Tullius noted, "how do you know he'll hold to his end?"

"He gave me two more, sir," she said, "one in the Reach, and the other in Falkreath. Sir, your convoy went right past it on the way to Helgen. We're lucky word hadn't spread too far of Ulfric's capture, or you may have been ambushed."

"Have messengers sent to those holds at once," he ordered, "and organise a demi-cohort to eliminate the camp in this hold come morning."

"Already done, sir," Rikke answered, "I hope that wasn't too presumptuous of me?"

"Not at all," he replied, "in fact, it makes my job easier."

"I live to serve, sir," Rikke said. "In addition, a guard passed a message from Jarl Elisif, sir. She wishes to speak with you tomorrow."

"Very well," Tullius sighed, "inform her I'll be available at—"

"Sir, she's requested you come see her," Rikke interrupted, "I'm under the impression that the Dragonborn's return to Solitude may have sparked an interest in the war effort, sir."

"Return?" He muttered, but Rikke heard it.

"Karsten Iron-Sides was born in Solitude, sir," she explained, "his mother was from the city, and his father from Eastmarch. They met during the Great War and fell in love."

"I know of his father," Tullius noted, "Refil Iron-Sides was notorious during the war for the elves he killed at the battle of Red Ring, but I know not who his mother is."

"Truly, sir?" Rikke blinked in surprise, "I assumed everyone in Cyrodiil would have known."

"And why's that?" He frowned.

"Well, sir, it's just that his mother was General Jonna." Rikke sounded almost sheepish, which was a tone he had never heard from her before.

"What?" He blinked. "That man is Jonna's son?"

"Sir," she confirmed with a nod. "She passed in his twelfth year, and then he moved to Eastmarch to live with his father. It was rather important news in Skyrim. Even I heard about it, and I was in Bruma at the time."

"Jonna?" Tullius asked again, "the She-Devil of the Red Ring?"

"One and the same, sir," Rikke said, "did you truly not know?"

"We never received word of Jonna marrying, or having children," he said, "we barely received word of her death."

"Truly?" Rikke seemed insulted, "for all that she was applauded and decorated for her role in the war, she was so quickly forgotten?"

"It was a difficult transition period," Tullius sighed, "we forgot many of our heroes. When did they marry?"

"They didn't," Rikke answered, "Refil was promised to the daughter of an important thane in Eastmarch, but the affair carried on for four years before Karsten was born. He was an oddity in Skyrim, one parent being a famous war hero, the other a thane in a hold. It was why he grew up with Torryg. He was practically royalty."

"He and Torryg were close?"

"Like brothers, I'm told," she told him. "It's rumoured that Karsten and Elisif were interested in each other during their youths, but Karsten was only twelve winters when he left, so I doubt it. But I was here for five years before this war started, and Torryg and Elisif clearly cared for each other deeply."

"If they weren't 'interested' in each other, what relationship did Karsten and Elisif have, then?" Tullius needed to know these things, especially since Elisif likely knew that Tullius had given the blanket order for executions that included this old friend of hers.

"Close, not a sibling relationship like Torryg and he had, but closer than normal. They all grew up together. Those sorts of bonds are tight, especially among Nords. The Jarl may be irate when you see her, but hopefully Steward Falk would have been able to calm her down some."

"Hopefully," Tullius echoed. Rikke grinned at him.

"Don't worry too much, sir," she said, "I'll protect you from the Jarl should she become too… Nordic."

Tullius slanted her a look, but Rikke was already out the door, her chuckle following her. Tullius sighed again and re-read the other reports. There was nothing of note, but he needed them fresh in his mind as he moved pieces around on the war map. Come morning, he had no doubt it would need to be adjusted again. He played around with a dragon piece, uniquely carved, a gift that had been delivered anonymously some weeks earlier, handed off between a dozen couriers before it reached him. He placed it right on Solitude.

The last place he had seen the Dragonborn.

MMXXI

So, here's the thing. I love the Legion. Can't help it, and I won't apologise for it. When it comes to the Skyrim Civil War, I just can't find it in myself to support the Stormcloaks. I understand their perspective and I sympathise with it, but in the end, they're just playing into the Thalmor's game, and so I can never really make myself support them. That being said, I also don't think that the Legion is flawless, and that Tullius is the perfect leader. There are a lot of issues that both sides suffer from, but in the end, a strong Empire, in my opinion, is the best for the future of mankind in Tamriel. Also, I gave General Tullius a first name, and obviously, I picked Julius because he seems to be modelled after Julius Caesar in looks. I also have a general head canon when it comes to the Legion in Skyrim, and that is that there's only actually two legions in Skyrim, which I have decided are the Ninth and Eleventh Legions, while the rest of the forces are auxiliaries from the Imperial-aligned holds. That means in terms of purely professional legionaries, there's only around 10,000 in Skyrim.

As always, leave a review or send me a PM if you have any questions.

Cheers, CombatTombat