Skyrim: Legend of the Dovahkiin

Acceptance 5

Morndas morning had been a rather busy one for the Harbinger and the Companions. They had spent a good four hours helping the carpenters they'd hired repair the damaged sections of Jorrvaskr, replacing the broken dining tables and healing the injuries they received. After making sure that everything around the mead hall had been taken care of, the Harbinger gathered his damaged weapons and armor and headed to Warmaidens for repairs, clad only in a sleeveless white shirt, brown boots, and basic tan pants. Though he possessed the knowledge to repair and craft his own equipment if he ever needed, his overall skill in the art forging was nowhere near as well honed as Eorlund or Adrianne. Besides, the two smiths were at the top of his list when he needed his blades extra sharp.

Making it through the market was a task in itself. As the youngest and most accomplished Harbinger in the History of the Companions, his reputation in Whiterun was very well known, and he was often swamped by admirers and many of the city's young women as a result. It was for this reason alone that he had received countless invitations by the Jarls of the other holds of Skyrim, most written by the Jarls themselves. Despite his new found popularity amongst Skyrim's highborn, the Harbinger made it a point to stay away from the Jarls and the inner workings of their courts. As far as he was concerned, the Companions had no business in politics.

It wasn't that he wasn't a people person, or that he found his admirers to be annoyances, he simply preferred to be alone some days. His shield-siblings had noted on how he would sometimes go days without uttering a single word to anyone. It was days like those that would set Skjor off the most. The older Nord would rage about how the Harbinger was supposed to provide advice and guidance to the newer members of the Companions and instruct the members of The Circle on new tactics to deal with the Silver Hand. The Harbinger frowned as his mind wandered back to that terrible day. He had not been present when the Silver Hand attacked Jorrvaskr. Instead he found himself in the lair of the Glenmoril witches, fighting for his life as he went about the task Kodlak had asked of him. A task he still regretted ever accepting.

Pushing the thoughts aside, the Harbinger made his way over to Warmaidens and was greeted by the familiar smell of hot metal being dunked in water. As usual, Adrianne was hard at work at her forge, banging away at some newly crafted armor she created. Feeling mischievous, the Harbinger slowly approached the smith, taking care not to make any unwanted noise.

"Good to see you, Harbinger," she said without ever turning to see who had approached her. "What brings you to my humble forge?"

The Harbinger cracked a tiny smile and shook his head. Would the day come where he would catch her unawares?

"To answer your question, no, it wont." she said, still banging at the piece of metal on her work bench.

The Harbinger raised an eyebrow. "The gods hold you privy to the thoughts of others now, do they?"

Avenicci turned to face the young Nord and smirked. "Only when the need arises. That aside, is there something I can help you with?"

Reaching in his knapsack, the Harbinger pulled out his damaged equipment and placed them on the work bench. The smith took a moment to examine the apparel, carefully looking over each dent, gash, and chip that was present upon the equipment. Adrianne turned her attention to the katanas, and let out an exhausted sighed. The blades were worn, cracked and badly chipped. It was a wonder that they hadn't broken during any of the fights the he had been in.

"It's sad when a weapons once so beautiful becomes so marred." Avenicci remarked upon finishing her examination of the weapons. "I wont ask you how your equipment became so damaged due to your profession, but still, I am rather curious."

The Harbinger leaned against one of the support pillars, crossing his muscular arms over his chest. "The wilds of Skyrim are filled with more dangers than you'd care to know. Bandits, necromancers, wild animals and giants. Damn the giants... "

Adrianne noticed that the young Nord sounded particularly annoyed when he mentioned the giant. It was quite amusing, the great leader of the Companions complaining like some whelp right out of training school.

"Well, you're alive, and that's the important thing," she said as she spread his equipment across her work bench. "Besides, I'm sure your comrades are more than happy to have you back after so many days away."

The Harbinger waved his hand in dismissal. "They got along just fine without me," he said, Propping himself up from the pillar. "Anyway, about my equipment."

"Your entire armor set is badly damaged," Adrianne began to explain. "The cuirass in particular is in need of the most repair. There are two large holes on the upper left side where the shoulder is positioned and multiple dents and sword gashes that managed to penetrate as well, I'll most likely have start from scratch and re-forge the whole set."

"And my weapons?"

"Worse than your armor," she told the young Nord. "The blades are in terrible condition, chipped and nearly broken. And somehow one of the guards was split in two. I'm not very sure I can repair your swords, Harbinger. Not many smiths today are knowledgeable on the creation and repair of katanas, myself included. Fixing them may be impossible unless you find the smith who originally crafted them."

The Harbinger sighed, though he expected as much, it didn't take away the frustration. As great a smith as Eorlund was, the Harbinger doubted even he had the know-how to repair a katana. As much as he didn't want to do it, there was no way around it. He would have to re-forge his own weapons.

"Well, how much will it be for the Armor." the young Nord asked.

"Not cheap," Avenicci warned. "It'll run you about six hundred thirty septims."

"Done," the Harbinger pulled a large coin purse from his knapsack and placed it on the work bench. "How long will the repairs take?"

"About an hour, maybe two."

"Very well, I'll be back in a while." with a quick nod, the Harbinger turned and headed towards the market. He had just about used up all his potions on himself and his comrades the previous night, and needed to restock his supply. He readied himself for the waves of people that would no doubt hound him the second he entered the market area. If he had to choose between fighting Hagravens and warding off young women, he would defiantly choose the former.

-Dragonsreach-

Jarl Balgruuf struggled not to let his growing frustration show on his face, a monumental task considering all of the squealing nobles that now stood before him. The Jackal had again managed to evade death at the hands of the Companions and Pericles' band of warriors, and the warrior Thanes. Unfortunately most of the Thanes had been killed and Pericles and his group were severely injured during the fight. The only upside to the situation was that the Companions not only managed to drive the Jackal out of the city, but also grievously injure the beast. As impressive as such a feat was, Balgruuf couldn't relax just yet, not while the Jackal still drew breath.

The Jarl pushed the thoughts from his mind and decided to actually pay attention to what the noble before him was saying.

"My Jarl, the Companions still cant manage to defeat this creature, even with the help of other warriors!" the noble shrieked. "If even the followers of Ysgramor cannot defeat this monster, then what are we to do?"

"Calm yourself, Vinnus," Balgruuf said calmly, shifting the position of his body in his oaken throne. "The Companions are the only ones who are skilled enough to fight the Jackal on equal footing. As for Pericles and his band, they proved themselves to be of use, despite their defeat. The Companions have already given their word that they will continue to battle the creature until it is slain."

The Imperial Noble Vinnus wasn't satisfied, and continued to bombard Balgruuf with questions.

"Capable as they may be, I still think we should ask the Imperial army for-"

"We don't need the help of the Imperial army!" Balgruuf shouted, his anger finally peaking through. "We have warriors who are perfectly capable of handling the situation. I don't need Tullius and his damn Legionnaires storming my city for one damn beast!"

The court went silent. No one dared to speak a single word, lest they incur more of the Jarl's wrath. Vinnus stood his ground, his brown eyes locked with Balgruuf's blue ones, determination swelled within each. Balgruuf couldn't help but feel a small shred of respect for the Imperial. Unlike most of the nobles, his concern was for the wellbeing of the citizens of Whiterun, rare among aristocrats. Indeed Vinnus was not the best physical specimen in Whiterun, but his heart, will and spirit more than made up for his lack of fortitude. At least in the Jarl's mind.

"My Jarl," the Imperial began. His voice was shaky and cracked a bit, but also even and confident. "I do not doubt the strength of the Companions or the other warriors of the city. But what if they don't manage kill the beast? What if they're killed while defending the city? Then what? Then who will protect the city?"

Balgruuf sighed, running a hand down his face. They Imperial spoke out of turn, but he was right. If the Companions and Pericles' band were defeated there would be no one left in Whiterun to stand against the Jackal. No one but…

Balgruuf's eyes lit up with a sudden realization, something his Housecarl took note of.

"Do you really intend to call upon him, my Jarl?" Irileth inquired.

Balgruuf nodded. "Aye, that I do."

The Jarl's Steward, Proventus Avenicci, turned to the Jarl. "Who are you talking about Irileth?" he asked, obviously confused as to who the Dunmer was referring to. "Who is this... 'him' you speak of?"

"He…is the one individual who may be able to bring about the Jackal's death." Balgruuf answered. Avenicci shook his head, still in the clouds on who they were speaking of.

Irileth crossed her arms and frowned. "Even if he is their leader, what makes you think a boy could defeat this monster?"

"Because, Irileth," Balgruuf started. "If the stories I've heard about him are true, then this beast wont stand a chance against him."

Irileth sighed, she knew that Balgruuf had the utmost faith in the boy, but hoped that his faith was not misplaced. But, she knew all to well of the stories the Jarl was referring to, and the man behind those stories. She knew how well liked and admired he was throughout the city of Whiterun, and how respected he was amongst the Jarls of the other holds. She also knew that if the stories were indeed true, then the man behind them was one of the most deadly warriors in the hold.

"Apologies my Jarl," Vinnus said, wanting to discover who the Jarl and his Housecarl were referring to. "But who is this Warrior you speak so highly of?"

"Irileth, I want you to head over to Jorrvaskr and bring the Harbinger of the Companions to Dragonsreach."

"Of course, my Jarl." with one final bow, the Dunmer turned on her heels and made her way out of Dragonsreach, and to the home of the Companions.

-Plains District: Arcadia's Cauldron-

"Oh my, these are some pretty serious injuries," Arcadia said as she examined the Harbinger's wounds. "Want on Nirn possessed you wait until now to have these wounds examined?"

The Harbinger let a smirk pass his lips. In the time he had arrived in Whiterun and became a Companion, he and the local Alchemist Arcadia had developed a strong friendship. Being the Companions youngest Harbinger and most skilled warrior, the young Nord was often sent on dangerous quests, such as clearing out bandit camps or exterminating giants that were harassing travelers on the roads.

As a result, the boy would often return with numerous injuries across his entire body. Arcadia was surprised at the boy's durability, he had visited her on multiple occasions with grievous injuries and had simply shrugged them off like they were nothing. Either he was superhumanly strong, or he was very good at hiding his pain.

"Apologies Arcadia," the Harbinger grunted as the Alchemist continued her examination of his wounds. "I intended to use the potions I bought from you the second I stepped into Jorrvaskr, but…"

"You used them on everyone who survived last nights attack." she finished.

The Harbinger sighed, shaking his head. "You're correct, as always," he said. "How'd you know?"

"Because I know how you are," she answered grabbing a large, crimson bottle. "Always throwing yourself into the thick of things, thinking of others' safety rather than your own. Honorable, but foolish."

The young Nord frowned. "Is it that easy to read into me?"

Arcadia scoffed. "No, you most certainly are not. Half the time I don't know what you're thinking, but the more I found out about you, the easier it was to see what kind of man you were. Here, drink this. It should mend all the injuries you have, but I suggest you see a healer afterwards."

"Thanks," the Harbinger took the bottle and popped the cork. He took a quick smell of the stuff and nearly gagged. "This smells like Spriggan shit."

"Then don't drink it," Arcadia said giving the Nord a light slap to the head. "Anyway, I've put all the requested potions and ingredients in your knapsack, so you're all set to go."

The Harbinger gave a light grunt as he finished consuming the vile tasting potion. The stuff may have tasted like crap, but it certainly did what it was created to do. "Gratitude, Arcadia. I'll be sure return when I need more potions."

Grabbing his knapsack, the Harbinger gave one final goodbye to the Alchemist and left the store. Now that his shopping was finished he could concentrate on killing the creature Aela had referred to as the Jackal. The Harbinger swore to himself as he went through the large market area, he still hadn't fully forgiven himself for leaving the Companions like he did. Skjor was on him in seconds, berating him. Stating that it was his duty to set an example for the more inexperienced members, and that his abrupt departure shamed the title of Harbinger.

The other Companions thought otherwise, particularly Aela and Vilkas who said that the Harbinger or anyone could never have anticipated an attack on the hall. Despite his talk of honor, Aela knew the true reason Skjor was digging into the Harbinger's departure so much. He knew that the Harbinger was still guilt ridden over not being able to save Kodlak, still torturing himself on not being present when the Silver Hand attacked. It wasn't his fault, he was not responsible for Kodlak's death, but the young Nord didn't see it that way.

The Harbinger was jolted out of his thoughts when he accidentally bumped into a passerby.

"Ah, apologies. I was not paying attention to the path I was walking."

"No, the fault is mine. I should have been more careful." Ysolda apologized. She stared at the boy for a brief moment before her eyes lit up with excitement. "You, you're the Harbinger!"

"You stand correct," he said calmly. "And again, I apologize for my absent mindedness."

"Oh, don't worry about it, accidents happen," Ysolda assured the Nord. "But if I may ask, what are you doing in the Market, and out of your armor?"

The Harbinger gave a quick, lighthearted chuckle. "I may be the Harbinger of the Companions, but I'm still just a man. I have needs like any other person. As for my choice of attire, there are days where i wish to move around without the weight of my armor impeding movements."

Ysolda's face went bright red, clearly embarrassed at her idiotic question. "Oh, of course! How foolish of me, that was probably silly question."

"It's nothing," the Harbinger assured her. "Anyway, if I remember correctly, your name is Ysolda, am I right?"

"Ah, yes," the woman said. "I'm the one you acquired that mammoth tusk for. You really helped me out."

"Ah, I remember that," the Harbinger said grimly as he recalled the events of that day. He had spent well over and hour tracking down and killing one of the large behemoths only to be attacked by its Giant master. "Hulda asked me if I could retrieve it for you, you're lucky to have such a good friend."

"Yes, she's certainly one of a kind," Ysolda agreed. "I'm surprised that you aren't at Jorrvaskr right now, what with all that's been going on over there."

The Harbinger's face grew dark and grim, he clearly didn't want to be reminded of Jorrvaskr's problem. "Well, I'm actually on my way back to Jorrvaskr as we speak. Myself and the rest of the Companions must devise a plan for tonight."

"I see. Well then, I should get going. I don't want to delay you any more than I have."

With a final goodbye, the Harbinger made his way through the crowded marketplace. He was about halfway to the steps that lead to the central plaza when a familiar voice caught his attention.

"What's this? The Harbinger of the Companions out and about the town? No wonder there's such a fuss going on today."

The Harbinger smirked, he turned and saw his Redguard friend Amren standing with his arms crossed wearing a ridiculous grin on his face.

"Amren, I'm surprised your wife let you off your rather short leash." the Harbinger quipped, earning him an annoyed glare from the ex-soldier.

"Oh haha, Very funny. Its your fault that she barley lets venture past the house."

"My fault? If I remember correctly, you were the one who begged to tag along on a contract of mine. You getting caught has nothing to do with me."

Amren waved his hand dismissively. "All jokes aside, what brings you to the market? I thought the Companions had everything they needed in Jorrvaskr."

"We have quite a bit of essentials, but potions are not among them," the Harbinger explained. "I also came to have my armor repaired, which is currently being done. As for my weapons, well…that's a different story."

Amren looked confused. "Wait, so Avenicci is the one repairing your armor? I thought you Companions have your things made and repaired by Eorlund."

"He does. But Adrianne is trying hard to become Skyrim's next best blacksmith. If I can help her achieve that goal, then I'll do whatever it takes."

Amren smiled, the young leader of the Companions was really one of a kind. It was no wonder he was so well liked by the people of Whiterun and so respected by the Jarls of the other holds. In his days as a soldier, Amren had come across many types of people, but none could compare to the man before him. The Harbinger was brave, noble and honorable. A trait he found rare amongst men these days.

Just as he opened his mouth to reply, Amren heard a small commotion near the entrance to the city. Just then a large contingent of guardsmen came trough the gate. Unlike the other city guards, these men were clad head-to-toe in strong steel armor, carried steel shields and wielded razor sharp steel swords. They all marched in complete unison, none of them breaking the smooth rhythm they had as they strode through the city.

"Who are they?" the Harbinger inquired, still eyeing the heavily armored group of men. Amren gave the Nord a curios glance.

"What do you mean 'who are they?' they're the Jarl's most elite group of swordsmen! Renowned throughout the holds of Skyrim!"

The Harbinger furrowed his brow. He had never once heard anyone speak of this group of warriors, not even the Jarl himself. He didn't care for the people the Jarls and nobles surrounded themselves with, that wasn't his problem. But it was strange that this so called 'elite' group of warriors were nowhere to be found when the Jackal had assaulted the city. If they were the renowned warriors Amren had said they were, then wouldn't they be the ones the Jarl would dispatch to deal with the city's current threat?

As he watched the group of warriors stride through the Plains District, the Harbinger noticed two women walking among them. One was an older but beautiful looking woman, clothed in a golden, crimson lined royal dress that billowed in the wind with elegance other women could only dream of. She had long, wavy blond hair, full lips and a pair of enchanting blue eyes that would enthrall even the most strong willed of men. The second one was a beautiful, fair looking younger woman. She to sported a dress similar to the older woman, the only difference being the Whiterun Stallion that was sown into the fabric.

The girl looked very similar to the woman before her, with the same mesmerizing blue eyes, long blonde hair and beautiful full lips. The Harbinger was a bit taken aback, not because of their beauty, but by their sudden appearance in Whiterun. It made so sense. One would think that women of their obvious high standing would stay clear of the city until it had been rid of the Jackal. That was obviously not the case.

"I wouldn't let your gaze linger," Amren warned the young Nord, noticing the strange look he was giving the women. "Lest you raise the ire of the guards."

The Harbinger frowned. "Who are those women?"

Amren eyed the Nord curiously, how on Nirn did he not know who the women he was staring at so intensely were?

"You're kidding right? How long have you been in Skyrim? The women you see before you are none other than Lady Aeta and Lady Lisaa. They're the wife and oldest daughter of Jarl Balgruuf!"

The Harbinger lifted an eyebrow. "Wife? Daughter? This is all new to me."

"How did you ever manage to become Harbinger of he Companions of Whiterun without knowing important information like that?"

"The Jarl and his kin are not my concern," the young Nord answered. "My worries lay with more important matters."

The Nord and Redguard watched as the Whiterun elites escorted the women through the market and made their way to the cloud district. The Harbinger was a bit surprised by the people's reaction, and that of the two women. Lady Aeta and Lisaa were friendly and kind, and greeted the people with a warm, affectionate demeanor. A stark contrast to the nobles of Cyrodiil. The citizens seemed overjoyed by their return, as many of them rushed over to greet the two women.

"Apologies for my abrupt departure," the Harbinger began. "But I really must leave, Jorrvaskr awaits."

Amren nodded. "Right then, I'll see you some other time."

His goodbyes given, the Harbinger made his way to the central plaza and up the stairs to Jorrvaskr. He considered heading to the Skyforge to begin work on repairing his katanas, but quickly decided against it. Katanas were different from the double edged swords used by most everyone in the known world. It took time, patience, skill, the right tools and specific materials to craft or even repair a single katana. Things he didn't quite have at that moment.

No, he would need to deal with the growing threat of the Jackal before he even thought about weapon repairs. With a sigh, the Harbinger opened the door to Jorrvaskr and entered. Upon entering, the Harbinger was greeted with the sight of four Whiterun guards and the Housecarl of Jarl Balgruuf conversing with Aela and Vilkas. Noticing his arrival, Irileth turned and approached the young Nord.

"We've been waiting a very long time for you to return," the Dunmer said, her tone set in the usual serious nature. "Just where have you been."

The Harbinger crossed his arms over his chest, a frown setting on his features. "I don't see how that's any of your business." he retorted.

Irileth shot the Nord a deadly glare, which he returned. She considered striking the young Nord for his smart remark, but knew time was of the essence. She would be sure to revisit that remark another time.

"As much as I'd like to teach you a lesson for such an inconsiderate remark, now is not the time," she sneered. "The Jarl has requested your presence."

The Harbinger sighed, the list of problems he was facing was adding up by the second, and didn't seem to be stopping anytime soon.

A/N: Well here's the fifth installment of the acceptance story arc. Unfortunately, its just a filler arc really. I had planned to add the battle between the Harbinger and the Jackal to this chapter but decided against it because of the clutter it would have caused, plus I wanted to gather my ideas for the next chapters big fight. So please forgive me for that. Also, I apologize for the lateness of this chapter, I was recently just released from the hospital due to a bad ear infection and have been in recovery mode ever since. My recovery has been a slow but peaceful process thanks to my girl Samantha (Thanks babe) she really knows how to take good care of me. Anyway, the last thing I wanted to touch down upon was the Jarl's wife and daughter. I'm not very good at describing dresses at all, so I faltered a bit when I did, if anyone can give me pointers, I'd be more than happy to accept. Anyway, the sixth chapter of the acceptance arc is coming, and with it, the battle between the Jackal and the Harbinger! So stay tuned!

Zero out