Well this is interesting. I have a few people message me telling me the romance they wanted to see. So far there is a vote for Balgruuf, another for Farengar, and one that surprised me was for an argonian named Derkeethus. Still not sure which one I want but I need to choose soon. IF you have any more suggestions let me know.

So please leave a review and let me know what you think of this story so far.

Jorik sat down heavily on the bed he just rented in the Banned Mare. Sleep pulled at him, but he fought it off, he didn't want dreams tonight and knew there would be a lot of them. He didn't want to relive Helgen, seeing his mother and sister burn bodies in his dreams. He didn't want to remember the dragons roar as it took everything from him. He fought not to stretch out and close his eyes. He fought off exhaustion, but it was becoming a losing battle.

On the morrow he would go to Helgen and burry his family before bandits took advantage and moved into the burnt town. He couldn't bare thinking about bandits going through his family's things. He had aleady asked a few people to go with him. Most said no, not wanting to come across the dragon, while those for hire were too expensive for him. Tomorrow he would go by himself, but tonight, he wouldn't sleep.

He fought his eyes drifting close with no success, slowly he tumbled into the world of dreams.

He walked through town heading home. He smiled softly as he saw his mother sitting in her chair mending clothing, his father was chopping wood. "Jorik, you're back," his mother murmured with a bright smile.

"Aye, I'm back for good," Jorik answered the smile, walking over to his mother and pulling her into a hug.

"Good. You're needed back here, your destiny calls you," His mother said. Jorik backed away from his mother, her voice had changed, growing deep, frightening. He stared at his mother as she shifted, her body growing turning into golden scales. A snout and sharp teeth replaced the beautiful smile he had just seen. But the eyes, those eyes were still kind, understanding, but held knowledge that was beyond anything they could ever hope to understand.

"Who are you?" Jorik asked with a cold voice. His back rigid as he stood his ground when all he wanted to do was run.

"I think you already know who I am, the question is are you ready for what awaits you?" the golden dragon asked.

"What awaits me?" Jorik asked, he silently cursed as his voice gave away his fear.

"Your destiny…" Jorik was about to ask more but couldn't.

The room faded, changing before his eyes. He stepped back as darkness met him.

Fear raced through his as he heard rythmic drumming of wings. He knew this sound well it was embedded in his mind. A forocisious black dragon hovered above him with sharp horns, watching him intently. Jorik waited for the fire that would kill him, he waited his death. His eyes widened as that dragon disappeared…

Jorik woke panting, sweat drenched his body as he glanced around the room hastily. The dream had seemed so vivid and made no sense to him.

~ooooooooo~

Kodlak glanced up startled as the Jarl of Whiterun walked into his room. He wasn't sure why the man was here of all places. This was the first time the Jarl had ever entered Jorrvaskr, it was an odd occurrence.

"Is there something I can do for you, my Jarl?" Kodlak asked, not able to keep the confusion out of his voice.

"I need someone from here to accompany someone I owe," Balgruuf said quietly, the sadness that he had felt since yesterday still bearing down on him.

"Who is it that needs our help?" Kodlak asked curiously. He had known the Jarl for many years, and never once seen him show this amount of emotions.

"His name is Jorik of Helgen. He just came back from Cyrodiil to end up in Helgen when the dragon attack. He's now heading back to Helgen to burry what's left of his family. I had Irileth find out the information, he leaves in the morning. I want one of your men to go with him, so he is not disturbed while burying his family," Balgruuf explained and waited for Kodlak answer.

"Aden is dead?" Kodlak asked shocked and sadden.

"You knew him?" Balgruuf asked, his eyes widening at this news.

"Yes, he came here quite often. I've known him since we were lads. I know Jorik too, he was a good lad, had potential in swords. When he was a lad, his father took him here. Jorik would train while his father and I would talk," Kodlak told the Jarl, his heart heavy at the loss of a friend.

"Aden, Malina and their daughter were killed in the dragon attack at Helgen. Jorik was the only survivor we know of from that travesty," Balgruuf said quietly as he took a seat on one of the empty chairs.

"I'll send Vilkas with him," Kodlak said as he watched the Jarl.

"Good, he needs someone there, no matter how much he denies it," Balgruuf murmured, his eyes growing distant.

~ooooooooooo~

Jorik packed up what little he had. The sun was barely showing as he made his way outside. He took a deep breath of the cool crisp air fortifying himself for what he had planned for the day.

"Are you Jorik of Helgen?" a heavily accented male voice asked. Jorik turned and took in the stranger. He wore wolf's armor, a two handed sword strapped to his back. His eyes were covered in war paint allowing the pale blue of them to stand out. He was about as tall as him, but no as robust. Jorik stared at his eyes, something was really familiar with them. He couldn't place it but he knew this person from when he was younger.

"I am and who are you?" he answered, watching the warrior intently.

"Vilkas, I'm a Companion ordered to accompany you," Vilkas answered watching Jorik just as intently. He wondered if Jorik remembered him. His intent stare said he might. He was surprised Kodlak had asked him to do this job. Lately he had been basically taking over for the Harbinger and then he was informed that he was protecting Jorik while he burried his family. He remembered Jorik from when they were younger and he was Jorrvaskr practicing with him and his brother. He remembered when they used to get into mischief around town.

Jorik's eyes widened when he heard the name. He hadn't seen Vilkas since the day he left.

"No Vilkas, not interested. I'll do this on my own," Jorik stated. There was no way he wanted anyone seeing him grieve, especially a person he only knew when he was a child. Sure they had been friends then, but that was years ago. It would be too humiliating.

"I know why you are going Jorik. Kodlak asked me to accompany you so you're not disturbed while burring your family. " Vilkas stated, not backing down from the cold look in Jorik's eyes. He understood why Jorik was protesting, but it didn't make a difference. He was going whether the man liked it or not.

It took a few more minutes, but Vilkas was finally allowed to accompany him. He was quiet as they moved quickly over the land. A few times they stopped to fight, by the time Vilkas had loosed his arrow the fight was already over. Vilkas had to smirk, Jorik was still as quick when they trained together. He remembered that the young nord could move fast, but his aim with his swings and arrows were lacking. It looked like he had improved greatly from when they were younger. They met with a pack of wolves, a few bears and a couple of bandits, all dispatched easily and quickly.

They stopped at the gates of Helgen. Jorik stood there staring at them, his heart racing. Behind these gates were the bodies of his family. With a fortifying breath he pushed the gates open.

Helgen was a mess, where there had been buildings were now replaced by rubble. Houses were burnt to a crisp, towers were collapsing, bodies were burnt, some barely recognizable while other….

He walked slowly through the town, sadness hitting him hard as he found his father first. He bowed his head and lifted the man into his arms. He walked over to where their house once was and went into the backyard placing his father's body down gently. He walked into the house grabbing his sister. He hesitated for a second when he heard the sounds of fighting. Seconds later the sounds of someone dying flowed over the air and he lifted his sister body placing her with his father. The last body he collected, with his family laid out beside each other he lit them. Silently he said his farewells.

When the bodies finished burning he walked into the demolished house and went to where his room used to be. He smiled sadly as he knelt down beside his old trunk. He was surprised it wasn't destroyed. Everything was in there that he had left. His spare armor from before he left to Cyrodiil that would never fit now, his swords that his father had bought him and a small stash of gold. He went to where his father's room would have been and wondered if the safe his father had in there was still intact.

He found a sealed letter with his name on it. He scanned the paper, the first tear streaking down his face.

Jorik, my son,

I don't know if I'll be around when you come back here. Every letter we received from you was a boon, knowing that you were safe was all we could ask for. Never doubt that I didn't understand why you left, I even agree son. It was for the best.

My time is short here, so this letter is to tie up some final details.

First, everything I own goes to you. This house, my shop, and also the gold that is in this safe, it is your share.

Secondly, in Whiterun, the Jarl's steward has something there for you, if it's finished. I had Eorlund Greymane make it. Fetch it from the Steward.

And lastly, look after your sister, make sure she finds someone worthy of marrying her. Your mother has been running herself ragged helping her. When I pass, bring her to Markarth, we have some friends there that we consider family. It will do her some good staying with them.

Stay safe my son,

Love Aden.

Jorik reread the letter and bowed his head. He looked down at the safe and collected everything out of it. He grabbed his old equipment and the letter. He found Vilkas standing guard outside with a few bodies lay at his feet.

"Let's get out of here," Jorik muttered as he led the way to the gates once more.

~oooooooooooooo~

He didn't bother seeing the Nord off, instead he went straight to the inn. He needed to forget for a short time at least. Maybe tomorrow would be a brighter day for him. He took a seat in one of the darken corners and started drinking.

Afternoon turned to night quickly, too quickly as far as he was concerned. The inn filled with patrons. He noticed a group of warrior entered the tavern. He saw Vilkas among the group. He smiled sadly as he saw a larger man sit beside him and knew that was Vilkas twin, Farkas. He glanced at the other fighters and didn't recognize the others. As the night waned one the group became loud and boisterous, it helped him ignore his emotions as he watched them.

After his sixth bottle of mead he headed to the room he rented. Tomorrow he would see the Stewart, and maybe close that chapter of his life.

Sleep came to him easily, for the first time in a long time there were no dreams that he remembered invaded. It was a relief, for the first time since he could remember he had a sound sleep.

~oooooooooo~

He walked outside, surprised it was so late already. It looked to be late morning. It had been a long while since he slept that long.

He made his way to the castle. His mind clearer, not as aggrieved as it had been. He met Balgruuf's eyes from across the hall before he walked over to his Steward. "I found a letter from my father stating you have something for me?" Jorik asked and showed him the letter. He knew there were some personal things in it, but people knew his father was dead and he hoped the man had the decency not to read everything.

"Ah yes. If you would follow me," the Steward said, leading him up the steps. Jorik smiled as he remembered his younger years walking up these very same steps.

He followed the man into his room. He was surprised he was allowed in this area. Jorik shrugged his shoulder, he was near the Jarl's personal quarters, and it was a first for him. "Here you go," the steward passed him a set of leather armor, excellent crafted. He could tell that these were made for combat, everything was reinforced, more than usual. Eorlund knew what he was doing and was very good at it.

"Is there a place where I can try these on?" Jorik asked.

The steward hesitated, "Follow me Jorik," Balgruuf voice came from behind him.

Jorik turned sharply, surprised that the Jarl was there. At first he thought he was about to receive a reprimand for being in this area. He followed the Jarl to his chambers. "You can try on the armor in here."

"Thank you, Jarl Balgruuf," Jorik murmured with a bow of his head.

"The title sounds odd coming from you. I still remember drinking with you when your father visited," Balgruuf murmured, trying hard not to think of that cave.

"Yes, and we can't forget the cave," Jorik murmured with a chuckle.

Balgruuf looked at him startled. He didn't see malice in the other man's eyes, there was true amusement. "No, there aren't any bandits in here. The guard told me it's empty," Jorik mocked the same words Balgruuf has said that very day.

"Yes well that guard was reprimanded. I found out later he was talking about another cave that was closer to Whiterun, one that I didn't know about," Balgruuf muttered, not sure how Jorik would take this news.

Jorik chuckled, "Thought that was the case," he murmured amused.

Balgruuf gave him a searching look. He saw Jork eyes shining they way they used to. This was the Jorik from when they were younger. Even though Jorik was a few years younger than him, there were times where he was older than him. "I have a favor to ask. With dragons back, my court wizard needs something, but I know it's an impossible mission. I've sent a few people out and they haven't returned. This artifact is important, but from what I understand, where it is, is very dangerous," Balgruuf told him.

"What is it exactly you need?" Jorik asked curious. This mission sounded challenging, something he was looking forward to.

"I'll let my court wizard explain to you," Balgruuf stated. He hoped his wizard kept a civil tongue, the Jorik he remembered didn't suffer fools gladly and Farengar could be a fool at time with his pompousness. Thinking himself better than others, it had annoyed many, but none said nothing because of the fear of magic.

The Jarl led Jorik to a smaller room off of the great hall. A wizard stood in front of a map, his brows crinkled in concentration. "Farengar, I have someone who might be willing to help you with the dragon research you're doing," The Jarl stated, interrupting his wizards studies.

Farengar turned to the Jarl and noticed a man standing there. His one eye were staring at him with a weight to them that made him ill at ease. It was like he just proven himself not worthy of the man's attention. That thought put him in a sour mood, he wasn't about to let a lack witted Nord make him feel inferior.

"Yes, I want you to go to Bleak Falls Barrow and fetch a stone tablet. It shouldn't be that hard for a brute as yourself," Farengar explained, taking pleasure as the man eyes narrowed. He wondered if the man even realized he'd been insulted.

"Yes, of course, one of your intellect and aptitude wouldn't do well in a dungeon. Once you've had the proper education, then maybe you'll be more comfortable in a more challenging realm," Jorik said pleasantly as he smirked at the wizard. He allowed his own magic flow over his hands, "Wouldn't want you to singe something important by accident, you know how it is with the inept." He drawled mockingly.

Fargnar blushed at the Nord's words, properly rebuked as Jorik smiled mockingly at him. He was shocked that this Nord had brains. Very few Nord's had knowledge other than how to swing a blade. But this Nord just put him in his place with, but a few words.

"There is a stone tablet deep within the bowls of the ruins. The place is dangerous, and the probability is high that the tablet isn't there," Faringar told him.

"You're right, the probability is very high it's not there," Jorik stated with a grin and placed the tablet onto the table. "Found it a few nights ago, before I even entered Whiterun with Riverwood's message."

"I should have guessed you wouldn't have a problem," Balgruuf said with a chuckle patting Jorik on the shoulder. "Your father would be proud of the man you've become."

Faringar looked to them both, and that was when he realized this was the man all the rumors were about. This was the man that the Jarl knew as a young man, before the old Jarl's death. He swallowed nervously, wondering if the Jarl would reprimand him later about the way he spoke to his friend. He hoped not.

"If that is all, then I'll take my leave. I have some missions to do for other people around town," Jorik murmured about to turn away.

"Don't you want your reward?" Balgruuf asked with a smirk. He passed him an enchanted battle axe and an ebony long sword, plus a small bag of coin. He knew Jorik would need it, having nothing and then having to start all over again, would be hard. He knew Jorik was renting a room at the Banned Mare, but that could only last for so long before he ran out of money.