Arc 3—Uncivil War
By VST/VStarTraveler

Arc 3 Summary: A call for help & unwelcome demands lead to troubles for the Dragonborn as he tries to keep his family and friends safe from the war raging across Skyrim. Updated 7/19/20. Fantasy/Family/Romance/Adventure.

Disclaimer: Same as in Arc 1—Chapter 1.

Author's Note: Arc 3 starts at Part 15 and will be published weekly (unless noted) until complete.

Arc 3—Uncivil War—Chapter 1:

"Aerik? Can you check on the children?" called my dear wife, Idgrod, the High Queen of Skyrim.

It might seem an odd request but the terrors running up and down the curved stairs in the main hall were our own youngest, Aerica and her twin brother, Aern, and their slightly older nephew, Andres, our grandson. As it often did in Skyrim in winter, snow was falling for the fifth straight day; drifts were piled high in the courtyards and in the city's streets. That meant the children were trapped inside, unable to run through the streets of Solitude as they frequently did with their friends to burn off their excess energy and reduce the stress they placed on their equally snowbound parents. The saving grace was that the palace was currently hosting no visitors to witness their exuberant display.

Whereas many parents might have shouted at the little scoundrels for violating the house (or in our case, palace) rules and those of common decency, I didn't particularly like shouting at them as it reminded me of how I sometimes had to act in my professional capacity as the Dragonborn. I reserved my voice for those powerful, magic spells called shouts that could fell a dragon, calm an enemy, or even, to some degree, harness the weather.

Therefore, I slipped to the top of the stairs, unseen by our little vagabonds, and was crouched by the banister rail when Andres reached the top stair. I grabbed his arm and pulled him to me and down behind the rail as his eyes grew wide in surprise. A finger to my lips demanded his silence, which he granted with a nod and a grin as he realized the prospect of us all playing together.

Aerica was a half-flight behind him, so she didn't catch what had happened just seconds before. When I grabbed her, she let out a loud squeal and threw her arms around me when she, too, realized what was happening.

That meant Aern was "It" and he was determined to catch his nephew and his twin. As I peeked down over the rail, I saw him corner as tight as he could at the bottom of the right stair, and, heading for the left, where he ran face first into the back of Cici, one of the newer maids. Just after Andres and Aerica ran by, she'd attempted to step in to dust the table and vase of flowers set between the stairs, but Aern's impact knocked her forward. She bumped the table, the vase wobbled, and Cici grabbed wildly for it as it tipped over the edge.

Cici's scream, Aern's loud "Sorry!", and the vase shattering as it hit the floor happened almost simultaneously, as did my little curse under my breath. The kids and I would all be in the doghouse tonight when Idgrod found out since the vase was a present from our dear friend, the only recently-elected jarl of Whiterun.

"Uh oh," I said to the other two before I shot down the stairs to check on Aern and Cici and to get a better view of the damage.

The two of them were okay, but the beautiful blown-glass vase was a lost cause, broken into far too many pieces to count. Then I saw the flowers.

My breath caught as I saw them, scattered seemingly haphazardly on the floor, but reminding me of a series of events leading to a similar pile so many years before...

~ESV~

In the months following the elimination of the main vampire threat, civil war continued to rage across Skyrim. Ulfric and his Stormcloak stalwarts controlled approximately half of the province and the Imperial-allied forces controlled approximately the other half. Of course, neither side truly controlled much of anything beyond the cities, towns, roads, and a select few military posts. The majority of the people in the countryside were allied, in name only, with whichever side was passing through at the time for only for as long as it took for those troops to get out of sight. At that point, the people's first allegiance, to family and friends, once again took priority.

I was much like everyone else, choosing to ignore the war to the extent possible, focusing instead on my family and other important issues like killing dragons and outlaws that became too much of a nuisance for the local jarls. Still, most of my time was spent in either Whiterun with my Lucia or Morthal working to prove my worth to Jarl Idgrod Ravencrone to win her daughter's hand.

It was in Morthal where I found myself that afternoon when Kleve, one of Skyrim's brave couriers, showed up waving to me and calling my name. "Dragonborn!"

I was surprised for Kleve usually operated in the eastern half of the province, mostly between Windhelm and Riften. For him to have ventured so far to the west led me to believe he was on an errand of extraordinary importance. "What brings you to Morthal, brave courier?" I asked.

My work crew had stopped work, of course, with all eyes focused on the unusual drama playing out in front of them.

"Important delivery for you, sir! I was told it couldn't wait." He held out a sealed parchment and I swapped him several septims in return for it. Despite his tired countenance, his expression brightened. "Thank you, sir! Do you want me to wait for a reply?"

I held up a hand to him and turned to my work crew. "I'm going to have to take care of this, so Dornan, you're in charge. You know the drill."

The older man nodded as he looked back at the completed timber palisade and battlements stretching in the distance and then in the other direction where we still had several hundred feet to be constructed. "You lot, you heard the boss. Back to work!" With that, the men in the trench resumed their digging and the erectors started to swing the next dressed log down into the trench to be set.

Looking back to Kleve, I motioned for him to come with me to gain a bit of privacy from the eyes of my workers. "Sorry about that," I told him. I didn't tell him but thought to myself that half of the men there hated me and the other half would just as soon sell whatever info they could get on me to whichever side in this bloody war would pay the most. If, that is, they couldn't sell it to both sides."

He laughed, rather nervously. "I see the carnage frequently as I travel through our land and I ask myself if it will ever end. So far, I'm not really happy with the answer I seem to be getting in response."

I nodded in understanding before taking my dagger and breaking the seal on the parchment. "Let me read this now so I can answer your question about whether I need you to wait for a reply."

He nodded and stood silently while I read. The letter was from Nurelion, an alchemist with whom I'd invested a fairly hefty sum and for whom I'd also done some work. With Nurelion's health declining, the letter was dictated by him with his usual terse flourishes but was written in the flowery hand of his housekeeper, Sofie, a young teenage girl I'd placed in his employ and under his protection in return for said investment and assistance.

I read through Nurelion's note followed by a brief personal postscript by Sofie, and then a couple of paragraphs by Quintus, his apprentice, telling the rest of the story. When finished, I shook my head slowly. "Kleve, I thank you, but waiting for a written response won't be necessary. Please say nothing to anyone about delivering this and say nothing to anyone in response. Just have safe journeys, good sir."

He gladly accepted a few more septims for his silence and we grasped arms before he turned and left.

With Kleve gone, I turned back toward the project for a few moments as I debated my course of action.

At approximately ten feet tall, the timber palisade should, when complete, keep out all wild animals native to Skyrim except for those, like dragons, that could fly over it, and a few like bears or giant cats that could climb or possibly jump over it. In areas where an open attack by human foes seemed possible, we'd constructed battlements behind the palisade to stiffen the wall and provide cover for the defenders with arrow slots at every third log. Wider battlements were provided at strategic points where ballista, mangonels, or even trebuchets could be mounted for defense. If, that is, such engines ever became available or could be constructed in Morthal.

Dornan wasn't happy when I gave him my instructions, but he'd been heading up the project during my absences, so he understood. When I was away, he usually kept the work crews focused on gathering the needed building materials for my next stint on the site and filling the battlements with stones and sand to fill the gaps. The top was paved with mortared stones. Looking at the length remaining, I knew he would be busy. "Once you complete the construction here," I told him, "move on to gathering material for the next. If you have enough before I return, go ahead and start on that opening."

"Will do, Dragonborn. Get back as soon as you can, though. It seems the construction always goes better when you're here."

"You can do it, Dornan. Focus and lead the construction crew, and you'll be surprised at how much you can accomplish."

With the crew chief nodding and looking determined, I made my way to Highmoon Hall to inform that jarl that I was, once more, being called away on urgent business. I also had to tell my Idgrod that I would return to her as soon as I could.

The eyes of Idgrod's mother, the jarl, tracked my movement as I worked my way through the group gathered in the main hall toward her throne where she was holding court. Two farmers who'd recently taken possession of adjacent tracts we'd cleared were having a dispute over the boundary and the right to the remaining timber on the tracts. The jarl had dictated that we could not clear more than two thirds of the land in each plot since the new farmers she sought to attract would need timber for buildings, fences, and fuel. The farmer doing his plea paused when he saw me approaching the jarl.

"Dovahkiin," said the jarl, "welcome once more to our hall. Unfortunately, I sense that you are, yet again, being called away to save the world, or, perhaps, some small corner of it?"

Drawing myself up to my full height, I replied, "Yes, my jarl. Any emergency of great importance has come up and I must attend to it at once. I've left Dornan in charge of the fortification works during my absence. With your leave?"

She sighed before looking off to her right. "Dragonborn, you are not native to our hold, but you've proven yourself in battle versus dragons and other foul creatures that would have killed our people and laid waste to it. You've led the effort to fortify our city, making great progress to ring it with the palisade to keep wild animals out and to offer us some protection against those who might attack us. Your efforts have also helped us attract new farmers to the lands you've cleared." She nodded toward the men standing to my left.

I smiled inwardly, thinking that this was going better than I'd imagined and excited at the thought that she was going to grant me what I sought. Instead, she continued. "Go, do your duty elsewhere as needed, and then return to keep up the excellent work you do here. Someday, before too, too long, perhaps we'll be able to discuss your future in our hold...and what your heart desires."

My hopes were dashed. She'd gotten a taste of what her men, under my direction, could provide her, and now, she wanted more. I let out the smallest of sighs before giving a little bow and, knowing that I had to say something in response, said the least committal thing I could think of. "You honor me, my jarl."

"Indeed," she agreed. "Well...carry on."

The tiniest flick of her hand dismissed me. "By your leave, my jarl."

I made my way back through the gathering as Idgrod Ravencrone resumed listening to the case being presented before her. I searched the crowd for my love, finally catching her looking straight at me with an expression of concern and understanding.

"You heard Mother's words, and still you must go?" she asked after we left the hall and turned toward the bridge, following her little brother, who was skipping up the road.

I nodded. "An old man, a business associate, has found the last element needed to fulfill his life's dream. His yearning for it has kept him alive, but now that he knows where it's located, his assistant says the man's fading fast and he's threatening to take the assistant and their housekeeper with him."

She laughed but then saw I was serious. "I'm sorry."

"No, don't be. He's a friend but he's had a good life. I just need to help him this one last time if I can."

We paused as her little brother, Joric, some distance ahead of us stopped to pitch pebbles from the bridge into the river. We took that opportunity to speak quietly for a few moments before we turned into a tight embrace. Our kiss lasted for ages but it wasn't enough. Young Idgrod pulled away with tears in her eyes. "Return to me soon, my love. I must go; my duty with Joric calls me, too."

We brushed fingertips as she pulled away and went after her brother, who was just leaving the bridge to the north bank.

My next stop was the Thaumaturgist's Hut, where I found Serana working at the alchemy lab. She'd made an arrangement with Lami to gather ingredients and craft potions during our stays in Morthal in return for use of the lab and a portion of the income from the sale of any that we didn't need in our adventures. Similar to the case with Nurelion in Windhelm, my investment in Lami's business had hinged on her agreeing to those terms. Fortunately, word of her increased inventory had started to spread, and she was attracting new customers from the further reaches of the hold and beyond.

Serana finished her potion and looked over at me, waiting as patiently as I could.

"I heard you," she said, "but you know I can't stop in the middle or the potion would be lost."

"I didn't say anything," I replied.

She frowned at me. "You didn't have to. It's not close to nightfall, so what's happened to bring you here? We're leaving, I take it."

"Yes. Let's get changed and gather our things so we can hit the road. We have a long way to go so I'll tell you on the way."

~ESV~

This would be Serana's first trip to Windhelm since her rescue from Dimhollow Crypt. Although I'd been to the city three times since then, the last two had been with great reluctance after I'd had angry words with Ulfric. During the first trip, shortly after we'd eliminated the vampire threat, he'd impressed on me in no uncertain terms how my help was "needed to make Skyrim free." I correctly interpreted this as meaning he wanted my help in attracting more of our countrymen to his cause so he could win the war and be the new high king and ruler of the land. Rather than immediately and gladly joining his effort, I told him that I needed time to consider the ramifications, considering his past associations. While no one else knew what I was hinting about, Ulfric did; he told me what I could ram and where if I ever tried to share such lies.

I was probably as angry as he was, but I gave him a free piece of advice: "Let's drop this, Jarl, or you might not like how some of your countrymen will view your actions, then or now."

He fumed but said, "True, Dovahkiin, but I warn you. Unless you come out publicly for me, you will no longer be welcome in Windhelm. If you haven't endorsed me by noon tomorrow, be gone or you'll regret it."

Since I had no interest in endorsing either side, I left well before his deadline. However, each subsequent visit became a challenge, trying to disguise myself and my goals so the Eastmarch guards wouldn't recognize me and so Ulfric wouldn't get wind of my arrival to send more of them after me. I'd deliberately avoided having Serana accompany me on those trips because I feared she might be recognized and due to the lingering fear of vampires following the attacks made on certain areas by Lord Harkon's forces. I'd feared that, if recognized as a vampire even without associating her with me, she might not be accepted in Windhelm even as well as the Dunmer and Argonians. As I'd suspected, the guards at the main gate to the city had been on the lookout for vampires in addition to Imperial spies, so I decided on a different approach for this trip.

First, I had to disguise myself by dying my hair black and switching to a different set of armor that I stored in my little house on the north bank of the river. It was a lightweight glass set that would provide good protection and allow for fast travel but, most importantly, it was something that wasn't associated with me. After choosing weapons and a stock of potions, we slipped out the north gate, glancing at the gap Dornan and his men were working to fill some distance to the east. We went north until we were out of sight of the city and then made our way east and then south to the Morthal-Dawnstar Road where we headed east. Once on the road, Serana and I talked as we walked.

"Nurelion, the old man, searched for the phial for most of his adult life and finally located it, but when he did, he was too sick to venture after it on his own. He tried to convince me to go after it for him, but I was involved in something else at the time, so I wouldn't agree. The man can curse like a sailor, believe me."

She laughed. "But I take it you helped him anyway?"

"Yes, eventually, but on my terms. See, I found a young, homeless girl in the city and wanted to help her so I made that a condition of my aid. He'd take her in, let her be his housekeeper, and he and Quintus, his apprentice, would teach her what they could about alchemy. Being an orphan, she already gathered flowers outside the city to sell, so I taught her how to recognize certain ingredients, which she added to her collecting efforts."

"Why didn't you adopt her like you did with Lucia?"

"I thought about it but by the time I met her, I'd adopted Lucia and had already encountered three or four other children in similar situations who also needed help. It took a while, but I finally understood what Lydia kept telling me: you can't save them all. Therefore, I did what I could to help each of the kids in turn. In her case, I had to trust her, Nurelion, and Quintus to do the right thing for her."

"So this Nurelion agreed to do it in return for your help?"

"Ahem...my help and, ah, a little investment in his business."

"Ha! So you bribed him?"

"Well...yeah, essentially. But I got some benefit out of it, too, before his condition worsened. Quintus has been running the shop since that happened, and I believe Sofie's stepped up to help.

"Sofie? That's the girl's name?"

"Yes. Nurelion allowed her to sleep behind his counter and she even sells her flowers there in the store. Quintus has told me she's good at housekeeping, is getting better at cooking, and that she's learning their craft and actually making some of their simple potions now."

"Sounds like he's getting a deal out of it," she said with a smile. "Is she pretty?"

"Yes, I'd say she's a pretty young lady."

"As pretty as your princess?"

I frowned at her. "I said young. She's far too young for me, maybe 15...or possibly 16 now. As for how pretty she is, Quintus seems to think so."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, and I think she likes him, too."

Serana gave me a rather stern look, but I held up my hand. "Now, just a second—I've warned them both that she has to reach her majority before they act on it. He's about five or so years older than her so I've impressed upon him that he really won't like the outcome if he allows anything, let's say, untoward, to happen to her. Still, if they still feel the same way in a few years, I've told them I'll give my blessing then, but not before."

Serana gave me one of her strange looks and said nothing more as we continued our quick pace down the road. We passed a few homesteads and eventually came to the little village of Stonehills. The mine had been fairly prosperous over the past couple of years and the place had grown to include several houses and a small building that served as a combination pub and general store. There were several people in front of the pub and voices were raised so we stepped off the road to see what was happening.

"I'm telling you, they didn't have to do it, but I think they wanted to."

"It was an accident, Flugeal. Had to be. They're trying to win people over to their side so they don't do things like that to make us mad."

"I already made them mad, though," replied the man dressed in farmer's attire. "I refused to join their ranks last time they came through, refused to pay their so-called tax, and told 'em I'd report 'em to the jarl." Most of the members of the crowd laughed at that last part. "They had it out for me this time."

Serana grabbed for my hand to hold me back and was shaking her head at me as I moved forward. "Aerik, your duty?"

Giving her a wave that I remembered it, I spoke up, "What happened here?"

They looked back at me, seemingly irritated that someone would make them repeat old news. Flugeal, however, seemed glad to have a new audience, so he spoke up.

"Soldiers came to our farm. They demanded food and took Rousen, my boy with them. Said he needed to join the cause. I told 'em he's only fourteen but they said he must be older, 'cause he's big for his age. They took 'im, took both our cows, and took the old mare, too. They'd have taken my ox, too, but he was hooked up to the plow. I told them they could have the livestock but to leave my boy. Rousen's a good kid and doesn't have any business stuck in the middle of their stupid war; he's slow in the head, if ya' know what I mean, and doesn't have a mean bone in his body. He doesn't understand anything about what's happening in the world beyond our farm."

I nodded, feeling bad for the poor kid who might not understand what was happening to him.

Flugeal kept going. "They laughed at me and said they'd send him back when they were done with him. I never taught 'im about arms 'cause of his mind. He knows all about the plow but wouldn't know about a sword or a spear unless he hurt himself with it." The man had tears in his eyes when he finished.

"Where do you live and which way'd they go from there?" I asked.

Flugeal pointed to a plume of smoke to the north. "That's what's left of my barn. One of the idiots set it on fire as they were leaving." Looking at the man who'd spoken earlier, he added, "And no, it wasn't an accident. The officer in charge yelled at 'im, but they didn't do anything to put it out. And then they still took Rousen with them."

"There's a good hour of light left and twilight after that. I'll go after them to see if I can talk some sense into them. I'll bring the boy home if I can."

~ESV~

Follow-up Note: Thanks for reading! Your reviews and comments are appreciated, too!