It didn't take long for Volund to master himself. He pulled back to arm's length, a hand still on Lydia's shoulder, and gave a watery smile.
"I guess my reputation is pretty much irretrievable after this, isn't it? A little posing doesn't make up for crying like a child."
Lydia laughed at him.
"Your secret's safe with me," she said, "but the secret isn't that you're not a man, it's that you're a good man."
He smiled again, more strongly, then sniffed once and roughly wiped his face with the back of his hand, removing most of the water from it.
"Well, I must be doing something right; after all, I got you, Lydia." He reached down, hefting up one pack in each hand, and held out the handle of one to her. "Shall we?"
She took it and slung it on her back, and the two began the trip down the mountain.
By the time they had reached the bottom, it was nearly dark. They entered the Vilemyr Inn for the night, looking forward to a few well-earned comforts after days on the road. The innkeeper, a nervous-looking man named Wilhelm, had a fair selection of food, and the travelers ordered venison, potatoes, a loaf of bread and two glasses of mead, their stomachs both rumbling at the thought.
A moment after their meals had been brought, however, the door to the inn burst open and a breathless courier appeared.
"Is the…" he panted, "Dragonborn here?"
Volund grunted, swallowed his mouthful of venison, then put his head in his hand. To his credit, however, he then stood up and greeted the courier.
"That's me, friend. What do you have for me, and what do you know about me anyway?"
"Jarl Balgruuf sent me," the courier said. He looked to be perhaps sixteen, and was just beginning to get his breath back. "He said he thought the Dragonborn would be passing through Ivarstead, and that it was urgent that you get his message." The youth proudly held out an envelope that did, indeed, have the seal of the jarl on it. Volund exchanged a worried look with Lydia.
"Thank you, friend. Have a seat and some food, until I can see if I need to send a response with you."
The youth went to the innkeeper and Volund tore open the letter.
To Volund, the Dragonborn and Thane of Whiterun,
The jarl hopes that your errand with the Greybeards has been a fruitful one, but he and Whiterun pray to the Divines that it is also concluded. Imperial messengers have brought word that Ulfric Stormcloak intends to take Whiterun by force, likely within a matter of days. The Jarl feels that, should it come to battle, the presence of the Dragonborn in the defense of his city would inspire valor in the defenders and foster terror and doubt in the faithless Stormcloak aggressors. As you may be key to the defense of the hold, Jarl Balgruuf urgently requests your presence in Whiterun as soon as it is possible. Divines watch over us all.
Signed,
Proventus Avenicci,
Steward to the Jarl
Volund lowered the paper. Lydia's eyes darted around his face, looking for answers.
"Ulfric is going to attack Whiterun. We have to get there as soon as we can."
The courier heard his speech and responded before Lydia could.
"Bah, bring on the Stormcloaks! We have the Dragonborn! By Ysmir, Ulfric will regret the day he attacks us!"
Lydia almost choked. Volund blinked once, then nodded slowly.
"Yes… Yes, I think it is about time Ysmir did something about Ulfric's little rebellion."
Lydia almost felt sorry for the Stormcloaks.
XxXxXxXxXxXx
Volund and Lydia had finished their meal quickly, slept a few hours, and risen before the sun to begin the trip back to Whiterun. When they finally reached the city, they found it in an uproar. Civilians streamed from the outlying farms into the relative safety of the town. Whiterun guards and Imperial Legionnaires worked side-by-side, preparing containers of water and stockpiles of buckets to fight fires, and making last-minute repairs to the old city walls. The drawbridge was being reinforced as well, and the travelers had to step lightly around workers to even enter the city. Many of the Whiterun guards cheered when they saw the Dragonborn, already a legend in Whiterun, and his housecarl. The pair nodded and waved a bit, but mostly tried to push through the crowds to the palace.
Inside the city was even more chaotic than outside. Adrianne's hammer rang constantly, and several Legion blacksmiths had set up portable equipment near her shop as well. They sharpened weapons and repaired armor and shields at a fever pace. Rows of sandbags and barriers were being placed at strategic points in the city. Many civilians had boarded up the windows, and in some cases even the doors, to their houses.
Higher up in the city, many people were gathered around the temple of Kynareth and the shrine to Talos. Legionnaires turned a blind eye to the Talos worshippers, a few of whom were from their own ranks. Strangely, Volund saw no activity at Jorrvaskr. Its doors were shut and the Skyforge was dark. He wondered at the small mystery, but had no time to investigate.
Finally, the pair reached the palace, and a guard ushered them quickly into Jarl Balgruuf's presence. He was upstairs, poring over a map of the city alongside an Imperial Legate. The Jarl looked up, and a few of the lines of worry left his face when he saw the Dragonborn.
"Hail, thane!" he said. "It's rare that I've been so pleased to see an arrival as I am to see you. I trust your audience with the Greybeards went smoothly?"
"It did indeed, my jarl," Volund said, falling easily into the speech patterns of the court. "But our business is concluded for the moment, and I am here to defend your city."
"Good, good, my friend," the jarl sighed. "It is a great relief. I fear the attack will come at any time. When the Legion shared its information with me, I sent my brother to Ulfric bearing my axe to learn the man's intentions. Three days ago, Hrongar returned with the axe. The war will begin in earnest soon."
The Legate cleared his throat, tapping the map on the table. Jarl Balgruuf turned back to it.
"Oh, I almost forgot," he said, turning for one minute more. "I told Farengar to enchant anything you might need for the battle, free of charge. Talk to him if you wish, but remember he's nearly as busy as I am!" The jarl laughed humorlessly.
Lydia was standing at the top of the staircase, and shook her head slowly as Volund turned back toward her.
"I know, I know," he whispered, "but it's too good an opportunity to pass up!"
The housecarl groaned, softly enough that the jarl couldn't hear. "Yes, my thane," she said.
Farengar certainly did look busy as they walked into his quarters. He was waving his hands over a shield, muttering to himself, as a reddish light grew around the object. It flashed brightly, then faded, and a small soul gem on the enchanting table shattered into tiny fragments. Farengar turned to put the shield on a table which already contained several others. He snorted when he saw the dragonborn.
"Come to Dragonsreach to decide the outcome of this war, like the rest of our esteemed guests?" he mumbled. It was clear he was not pleased with the interruptions to his work.
"That's the idea," Volund said flatly. "The jarl told us you would enchant our equipment."
"Yes, yes, pile it on. What spells do you wish?"
"For me, anything to help with heavy armor, swords, and shields. For Lydia, armor and archery."
Farengar nodded brusquely. Volund began to pile his equipment near the enchanter's table. Lydia seemed stunned.
"My thane," she hissed. "Do you intend me to sit out the battle?"
"No, but I'd prefer it if you were out of harm's way. I've seen you shoot; you can do a lot of good from on top of the wall, Lydia."
"And I'd prefer it if you were out of harm's way, my thane," she retorted. "It's my job to keep you safe!"
He sighed. "Lydia, I can't guarantee either of us will survive this battle."
"Neither can I, my thane – if I'm up on the wall!"
Volund threw his hands into the air.
"Shields, heavy armor, and swords for both of us, then, Farengar. Divines save me from the wrath of housecarls."
Lydia smirked, satisfied, as she piled her armor plates, shield, and sword beside Volund's. While they waited for Farengar to work, they went to the armory and found an unused chest with a sturdy lock on it. They put their packs, still full of gold, inside it, and Volund hung the key around his neck. Then, clad only in their clothing and the leather underlays of their armor, they walked around the city, encouraging soldiers and listening to the speeches made by others. A Nord woman, wearing the helmet of a Legate, was shouting a rousing piece to the soldiers under her command. Even Volund and Lydia, as they listened, found their heads lifting and their shoulders squaring. When the speaker was done, she made a beeline for Volund.
"You're the Dragonborn, aren't you?" She wasted no time or words. "One of the guards pointed you out earlier."
"That's right. Name's Volund; pleased to meet you…?"
"Rikke, Legate Rikke. I'm glad you're here, Dragonborn, and I'm excited to see what you can do. Your siding with us is a huge blow to Ulfric's claims to legitimacy. It would be an even bigger blow if you were wearing Legion colors." She pointedly stared at the small, unobtrusive medal that Volund still wore. "General Tullius told me about you. It didn't take long for word to reach Solitude about the Nord Volund slaying dragons, and the general put two and two together. If you wanted, you could earn a medal or two for yourself."
"Much as I hate Ulfric, Legate, I'm not thinking any further than this battle right now. This city has quickly become the closest thing I have to a home, and all I know is that I won't let it fall while I'm still breathing."
"I suppose I can respect that," Rikke said. "Well then, Divines be with us today; we'll see what tomorrow holds when it comes."
"A good enough plan," Volund agreed.
XxXxXxXxXxXxXxX
Farengar finished with their equipment before eleven o'clock that night, and they put it on immediately. Volund thanked the mage for both of them in a few short words; Lydia nodded at the man coolly on the way out.
Now as ready as they could be, the two waited, along with many other soldiers, for the attack. They did not wait long.
Thirty minutes after midnight, a scout came in saying Ulfric's army had been spotted. Within an hour, it was visible from the city walls. By dawn, the city was surrounded by catapults and soldiers. That morning there was not one sunrise, but twenty, as burning projectiles rose from the catapults and flew over the city walls, impacting houses, streets, wells, and more. Legionnaires and some hardy civilians were quick to respond, forming bucket brigades and dousing fires wherever they started. A second round of flaming shot followed, then a third and a fourth. Efficient as the Legion was, many buildings had been damaged or destroyed, and a few fires had not been put out; they were slowly spreading. When the fifth round of projectiles hit, it was joined by the first wave of soldiers.
The soldiers had a large battering ram in their midst; they pushed up the path toward the main gate. Legion and Whiterun archers on the walls and towers peppered their ranks with arrows, and the Stormcloak progress was slowed by the barricades in their way, but they had men enough that the ram reached the drawbridge before long. Some soldiers who had carried thick boards laid them down quickly, to form a rough bridge over the gap. The battering ram with its crew rushed forward and smashed into the raised drawbridge. The lumber in it creaked, and tiny splinters fell from it. The archers continued to down Stormcloaks, but they were not dismayed. Archers from the Stormcloak ranks fired back at the walls, and though the stone offered the defenders protection, a few fell.
The battering ram hit the drawbridge a second time. Simultaneously, all around the city, ladders were raised up to the top of the wall. The defenders kicked them down, smashed them with hammers, or dropped large rocks on the soldiers who attempted to scale the ladders that remained. No Stormcloaks had got into the city yet.
The battering ram hit the drawbridge a third time. The timber was visibly cracking despite its reinforced backing, and Stormcloaks filled the space behind it, eager to rush in as soon as they could.
The battering ram hit the drawbridge a fourth time, and it gave way, bending inward and sagging down from the top.
"FUS RO DAH!"
The remains of the gate and the battering ram flew outward faster than a horse could gallop, crushing huge numbers of Stormcloaks. A roaring cheer went up from inside the city, and a chant of "Dragonborn! Dragonborn!" could be heard. The Stormcloaks who had a moment earlier been ready to charge the main gate wavered. Arrows hammered the indecisive group, and they began to falter. A Stormcloak general near the back finally screamed some courage back into them, and they charged toward the gate again.
As they passed under the archway that the drawbridge had previously protected, oil poured down from it, spilled by hidden guards. A fireball came down from a mage on the main wall of the city, and set it ablaze, burning more than a few Stormcloaks into screaming ashes. The oil burned away eventually, however, and the Stormcloaks charged a third time. This time, they got far enough to see the defenders that waited for them. The Legion stood in perfect formation, ready and eager to engage. With them stood many of Whiterun's defenders, including Hrongar, the jarl's brother. At the front of them all, however, stood the Dragonborn and his housecarl. The quicksilver dragon's head on Volund's shield gleamed in the early morning light, and his sword was raised. A split second of perfect stillness settled over the battlefield.
"Divines be with us," Volund muttered.
"By Ysmir," Lydia replied.
They both grinned, and joined the charge.
Author's note: Two chapters in a day! Things are starting to move pretty quickly, for me and for Volund.