Author's Note: I'm sorry about the long wait. Oh, and I changed the story a little. Leif now wears Imperial Armor and has an Imperial Shield. Sorry but I realized having him use other armor just didn't make sense. I usually don't do things like this, though, so don't worry about it happening again. As usual, please review.
Chapter 6
For the rest of the journey, they hardly ever spoke a word to each other after that day unless it was necessary. Leif occasionally teased Darvak by pretending to order him to do things as he was now higher in rank than the Breton but besides that, they hardly communicated beyond a few words here and there. To their relief, there were no bandit attacks save for a lone Nord woman who thought she could take two children and a carriage driver. She was quickly taken care of and they immediately resumed going to Whiterun.
"This city is bigger than I thought" said Darvak once they had arrived. Leif silently agreed. The town was fairly peaceful compared to Solitude; a few Nords walked around, talking to each other. Two small children were playing tag happily. They ran past the boys without looking at them. Leif motioned for Darvak to follow him and went up to a man who was standing outside the nearest shop. He glared at them as they approached.
"Imperials, eh?" he growled, noticing their armor. "What are you dogs doing in our city?"
"Where is the Jarl?" asked Leif, ignoring the man's comment.
"Like I would tell you" he said, his arms crossed.
"Fine. I will just tell General Tulius that this town belongs to the Stormcloaks and he will let them take over" he said casually. The man scowled at him even more.
"He's in the palace over there. I hope he kills you, faithless dogs" he said bitterly, pointing to a large structure in the distance. Leif thanked him and walked off, Drenek following closely behind him. They walked through the city without any trouble. Some people glowered at them as they passed, especially around the shops and the inn. A few questioned as to why there were Imperials in the city. One person, a young Breton woman, actually waved and looked happy to see them. They reached the palace within minutes.
The structure was enormous, taking up what looked to be the space of Castle Dour at the very least. It loomed over them but somehow looked inviting and intimidating at the same time. They walked inside, both feeling slightly apprehensive but determined. The Jarl was currently having a heated discussion with a person wearing grey armor at the opposite end of a large room.
"...and it is not possible! Besides, the price would be too high even if it was" the Jarl was saying. The man in the armor sighed.
"I understand this but it is possible and very necessary. Of course, the choice is yours" he said, leaving the room. Balgruuf looked faintly annoyed as he turned his attention to the two boys.
"Yes, yes, what is it? No doubt Tulius is making another offer. I said no and that's my final answer" he said shortly.
"He asked me to tell you that your city is undecided and he wants you to make a choice. Also, he is sorry for pressuring you but it has to be done. The choice is yours but he urges you to make the right one and quickly" recites Leif.
"What did I just say? I am not becoming an ally to either side. What will it take to get that through his skull?" he asked irritably.
Leif smiled. "I doubt he will listen, sir. He is very persistent. Why won't you join the Empire, if you don't mind me asking?"
"I...I don't know. One could say I owe a favor to Tulius. This is true. At the same time, you could also say that Ulfric has the right idea in my opinion and as a Nord I find it hard to give up my way of life. On the other hand, the Empire is not as bad as everyone believes it to be. In other words, I'm not sure what to think" he said slowly.
"I understand sir but I urge you to reconsider and join the Empire. You know it is for the best. Sometimes, sacrifices have to be made in order to make progress" said Leif. The Jarl said nothing but looked rather uncomfortable at this. He nervously tugged at his beard and looked at the ceiling. After a few moments of silence, the doors to the palace open and a courier ran in, stopping before the Jarl.
"What is it?" asked Balgruuf, though not unkindly. The courier pulled out a letter and handed it to him, saying it was from the Stormcloaks and they only said he should read it immediately. The courier left and the Jarl opened the letter with a look of apprehension on his face. His eyes narrowed as he read the letter until he finally crumpled the paper in his hand.
"Something wrong, Jarl Balgruuf?" asked the man in the armor, who had just come back. The old man threw the paper away and looked up at the ceiling.
"It's the Stormcloaks. They said that since we are undecided, we must be taken. Either we are an ally or an enemy. They will be attacking today" he said calmly but everyone could sense his annoyance. There were no further sounds except for the crackle of the fire and the occasional shifts of someone out of nervousness.
"I knew I couldn't avoid choosing for too long" he sighed moments later. "It was only a matter of time. Well, I now see what kind of people the Stormcloaks really are. Tell Tulius that Whiterun is on the side of the Imperials. However...I must ask you two a favor first"
"Of course, Jarl. What is it?" said Leif.
"I would like you to stay and help us against the Stormcloaks. Normally, I wouldn't ask two children but I assume that Tulius wouldn't have sent you if you were not capable of fighting well. So will you help?"
Leif turned to Darvak. "I'll help but you don't have to" he said. The Breton shook his head.
"I'll help too. The Stormcloaks have done too much. If they take Whiterun, then things will get pretty screwed up" he said. Leif nodded and turned his attention back to the Jarl.
"We'll both help in any way we can" he said. The Jarl smiled.
"Thank you. Stay at the inn until I get word of their arrival. When I do, I will send for you. Come back here and we will discuss what needs to be done. Am I understood?" he asked. The two boys nodded and left the palace. They didn't say much to each other on the way to the inn and only spoke when they had sat down in front of the fire. The only other person near them was a Khajiit boy a year older than Leif at the most with a gold earring and hide armor. He was staring into the fire and occasionally took a sip of his drink without averting his eyes.
"Well, this is going to be an interesting day" muttered Leif, gazing into the dancing flames himself and ignoring the occasional mutters of "Imperial dogs..." and the stares. Darvak nodded, looking at the fire as well.
"Yes...I suspect it will be. Though I could do without the insults" he grumbled. "Don't these people realize that the Empire is only trying to help? I don't get it..."
"People, especially Nords, have a tendency to want what is worst for them. They're also stubborn. If you put them in a desert for three years then offer them food to survive, their pride will kick in and they'll reject it. Part of the reason for that besides pride is that they think anyone who is different from them is bad. Unfortunately, they're right to a degree because this world is horrible anyway. Sometimes I think it would be best if we just started over without the Empire, without Ulfric, without anything" he explained. The nearby Khajiit suddenly laughed to himself then quickly stopped.
"What?" asked Leif, turning to him. The Khajiit merely stood up and walked to a nearby table.
"...that was...odd" noted Darvak. Leif turned back to the fire and nodded.
"As I was saying," he continued, "I think it would be best to start over. However, having no Ulfric will have to do"
"I agree. I...can't say I want him dead. But I do want him out of power and treated like the vermin he is" said the Breton. At these words, a Nord man walked up to them, scowling and looking as though he wished to destroy both of them. He seemed to be around thirty at the very least. He wore iron armor and a steel greatsword was on his back.
"You had better shut up about Jarl Ulfric, faithless Imperials. When he becomes the High King, that kind of disrespect won't be tolerated" he growled.
"Even if he would become High King, which he won't, but even if he did he is not now. Besides, he was responsible for the deaths of my friend's parents and brother. I think I have a right to talk about the man as I wish, especially as he is vermin like I said" replied Darvak. His voice was polite but there was an obvious hint of annoyance. The Nord reached for his sword but didn't pull it from his back. However, his eyes were flaring with anger.
"Say that again, you milk-drinker! Ulfric would never do something like that!" he snapped. Darvak stood up and sighed.
"Let me get this straight: I'm a "milk-drinker" because I think instead of blindly swinging my weapon at something? That is the problem with you Nords, you know. You never think. All you know how to do is swing and find your target. But what if your target moves? What if it hides where you can't see it? You'll die, that's what. All it takes is a little thinking and you're taken down as easily as a baby wolf that has lost its mother" he said, his voice rising slightly. The Nord turned to Leif.
"Can you believe this milk-drinker? Surely a Nord such as yourself has sense in you. Tell your friend to back off and make sure he gets a beating later" he growled. Leif stood as well.
"If anyone needs a beating, it is Ulfric. That man killed my family. One of his soldiers told me so himself. He's right, Nords don't think and that's why they're idiots" he growled.
"Yeah, like I'm supposed to believe that! Besides, thinking is for the elves! How could a Nord like you say things like that?" he snapped. Leif smiled bitterly.
"Yes and look how that went: the elves would have destroyed the Nords had the White-Gold Concordat not been signed" he said, crossing his arms. "As for how I can say that: unlike you, I think"
"You filthy little-" began the Nord, unsheathing his greatsword. Faster than Leif could blink, the Khajiit from before was between them.
"This is not a good place to start a fight and if you must swing your weapon, do it to someone who is not a youngling such as this one" he said, pointing to Leif. The Nord boy said nothing but couldn't help thinking with some annoyance "youngling?"
"Shut up or I'll make a rug out of you, cat" the man snarled. By this time, the entire inn was watching but nobody did anything. Even the innkeeper stood by and watched. The Khajiit laughed.
"Oh, really? I would like to see you try" he said. Losing his temper, the Nord swung the giant sword with a furious yell. Within the span of a second, the Khajiit had drawn his own sword, disarmed him, and knocked him to the ground. He pointed the blade at the Nord's neck. "You Nords think you are such great warriors but you are not. You are only simple-minded creatures"
The Nord said something under his breath but made no move to get up again. The Khajiit smiled and sheathed his sword, turning to Leif. "You are not simple-minded though. You seem to be blessed with intelligence" he said with a small smile.
"Thank you, I suppose. How did you move so fast?" asked Leif.
"That is something that you would not believe if I told you. In any case, I must be going. Goodbye, youngling. I have a feeling we will meet again at some point" he said, leaving the inn. After a moment of shocked silence, the inn gradually got louder with the sounds of music and talking.
"What was with him?" said Leif, staring at the door. Darvak shrugged.
"No idea. He's a Khajiit so I'm assuming he knows something about using a sword we don't, which would explain why he didn't say anything. Not sure why he would help you though..." he said. The two sat down again and began discussing tactics for the upcoming battle in hushed voices. They knew that nothing they thought of would work but it kept them occupied and for all they knew, one of them could have a good idea.
"It all depends on how many archers this town has" whispered Leif. "If there are enough that could work but otherwise we'd need a dozen swordsman at least and all with a death wish"
"True. What if we had them use axes?" suggested Darvak. "Technically, the right kind of axe can be thrown easier than a sword"
"That would never work. Throwing your weapon away in battle would be stupid. Maybe-"
The door to the inn opened. The man in the armor who was talking to the Jarl when they first arrived at the palace walked in, looking grim.
"Battle is about to start. We'll warn the town. Get back to the palace" he said shortly. The two nodded and stood up. They followed the man out of the inn, hoping this would not end badly for Whiterun or the Empire.