ch 3 before the storm
From the outside, Gurders home appeared modest for her income- but the quality of the things inside revealed the true depth of her wealth; The hut was a sturdy one story log made cabin sheltered by a thick thatched roof, with a dug out basement lined in field stone. Inside, the hearth was the soul of the structure, decorating the center of the main wall with a cook pot where aromatic herbs hung to dry on the mantle.
A sturdy, long, oak made dinner table had been placed across from the fire, in the corner beside the entry, already set with an arsenal of well made wooden trenchers, flagons and utensils for dinning. beside the hearth, a well placed prep table had been set within arms reach of the cook pot, below the hooks where their potatoes and onions hung from the ceiling waiting to be used- the ingredients for the nights supper had already been selected, laid out neatly to be prepared upon its wooden surface.
beyond the cooking and eating space, beside the entry on the opposite side of the dinner table, a broad armoire had been placed for their work clothes. further in, a small feather bed was nestled in a shadowed corner beside a dresser, next to a horizontally placed cot shoved against the wall beside the hut's very own bar, separating Frodnar's sleeping area from his parents on the other side.
As night fell over the small settlement, Ralof and his family talked of the days events in detail over a well prepared dinner cooked by Gurders husband, Hod- Idrissa was surprised when the rabbit, cabbage, and leek stew touched her tongue, at how delightful it had turned out; a man that could cook was a pleasant rarity- Brinjolf hadnt posessed such a talent, and had often opted to feed her dinner from the Bee and the Barb Inn, or the Ragged Flaggon, instead. On the rare occasions he had cooked for her, she had to wash down hunks of dry, overcooked meat with Blackbriar mead, trying not to choke on the overly salted pieces of protein as she did so- a good way to end up drunk by dinners end.
"So, you say you saw a Dragon?" Hod was asking Ralof with much interest as they sat, enjoying their supper. "What was it like? Was it as big as a house?"
"much bigger than that," Ralof told the man with a serious expression. "It was as big as the inn!" He extended his arms out to demonstrate the dragons size, before taking another deep draught of mead from his bottle.
"Well i'll be! That would have sure been a sight to see- not that i want to see one, understand...I want that beast to stay far away from here!" He exclaimed fervently, not wanting to test the gods. Idrissa's gut clenched as the memory of the dragon filled her mind. She looked around her at Ralof's happy little family, sending out a silent prayer of her own, that the Dragon would stay far, far away from Riverwood- too many innocents had died already.
As predicted, Gurders mead stock had indeed taken a hit- Ralof and Hod were both on their third bottle, whilst Ralof boisterously gave a more detailed account of the earlier action in Helgen. She and Gurder sipped idly at their own bottles, listening as he described the massive black scaled Dragon, and how it had reduced the once sizable village to mere ash and rubble in a single hour- Frodnar listened with eyes the size of saucers, barely touching his food as he ate up the story.
"So," Idrissa addressed the land lady in hushed tones, so as not to interrupt the mens conversation. "What can you tell me about Riverwood?"
Gurder smiled, eyes tired as she took another sip of her mead. " It's my Mill. Some folks think its my town too, but it aint. The jarl in Whiterun owns the land and the town- I just pay the taxes." She joked light heartedly.
"Aye, every corner of land seems to be owned by some lord or another- What is the Jarl of whiterun like? I suppose they arnt all like our famed Ulfric?" In Riften, the jarl had been a woman named Laila law-giver- but the true power had been Maven Blackbriar, who was the richest aristocrat around and owned half of the rift- including her own BlackBriar meadery. Thankfully, Idrissa had never found herself in the presence of the Jarl- but Maven had proven herself to be a force of nature, ruling silently from behind her liege lord with an iron fist- She could only imagine what the Jarl of a holdfast the size of Whiterun would be like.
" Unfortunately not," Gurder replied dryly. " I mean Jarl Balgruuf no disrespect- he's ruled Whiterun well for years, but he seems in over his head now." Idrissa could see she was attempting hard to sound unbiased.
"Why do you say that?" She asked curiously as she sipped her own drink.
"He's been trying to stay out of the war, but it cant last." The older woman retorted, shaking her head. "He's going to have to pick a side, and I'm afraid he is going to make the wrong choice."
"Why?" Her brows pulled together as she asked. "Does he seem partial to the Empire?" The nords had been part of the Empire for so long now, she wouldnt be surprised if the Jarl was indeed loyal to its cause.
"I wouldnt say that- but he and Ulfric have been at odds for some time now, and i fear Balgruuf will end up choosing wrong because of it." Disappointment colored her words as she spoke.
Nodding, Idrissa considered the dynamic at hand, understanding that it was a legitimate concern- Men could be stubborn, and let their pride lead them astray. "It's still hard to believe that he would choose Elisif over Ulfric though." Gurder added as she enjoyed another spoonful of her stew- across the table, Frodnar was holding his own bowl up to his lips and slurping noisily, humming his satisfaction as he did so- earning a stern look from his mother.
"Elisif?" Idrissa asked in confusion, as the name was unfamiliar to her ears. Gurders expression shifted to surprise, brows raising over her blue orbs.
"-well, i suppose she is Jarl Elisif now- she used to be known amung the aristocracy as "Elisif the fair"." She explained, rolling her eyes at the title as she shook her head a little. "She was married to High King Torygg for a short time before he died, and now the Empire supports her claim as High Queen."
"And you dont like her?" Idrissa concluded based on her tone.
"well, I dont really have anything against her really, It's not her fault that her husband was bought and paid for by the Empire...I just feel like she will be nothing but another puppet for them, with her husband dead- Though Ulfric will make sure she never takes the throne as High Queen."
Idrissa noted that Gurder shared her brothers blind faith in Ulfric, as if the man was invincible. she wondered vaguely what their reactions would have been if Ulfric had been beheaded in Helgen after all- and It was in that moment that Idrissa wished she had paid more attention to the political discussions that she had been privy to during her time with the guild in the Ragged Flagon.
"The General at Helgen was saying that Ulfric murdered the high king?" She asked, unsure of how to broach the subject. Gurder hesitated while bringing her drink to her lips, giving the younger woman another strange look.
"Been living under a rock? Everyone in Skyrim heard when Torygg died- Some say he was murdered, but it was a lawful challenge in the old way, according to our tradition." She told her matter-of-factly. "Ulfric called him out as a traitor to Skyrim, and killed him in single combat- and if Torygg couldnt defend his throne, then he had no business being High King."
"Sorry," Idrissa apologized sheepishly, blushing. "Where Im from, we didnt much pay attention to the politics outside of our own hold." It still sounded like murder to Idrissa's mind- for over thirty years Istlod had ruled over Skyrim as High King, and his son had been too young to participate in the last great war- she doubted he had much experience with battle outside of his lessons with the palace's Master at arms, and it seemed shameful for an experienced warrior like Ulfric to kill such a man and call it fair.
"I dont blame you- not many did before, but its gotten to the point where not many can ignore it now." Gurder admitted. " Where is it you are from?"
Idrissa grimaced, afraid that if she told the older woman where she was from that she would automatically guess of her affiliation with the thieves guild- and Ralof was paying attention to their conversation now, eager to hear more about the woman he had very nearly died with in Helgen.
"Riften- I was brought up in the orphanage there until i turned sixteen," She lied smoothly, trying to create a backstory that was as close to the truth as possible without revealing her criminal past. "I got a job with the local smith as an apprentice until i saved up enough money, and now...well. I just wanted to get away from all of that, and see if there wasnt something better out there for me somewhere." Gurder nodded in understanding, and her answer seemed to appease Ralof too.
"Seems you ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time, and got to see more than you bargained for!" His sister exclaimed in jest. Idrissa giggled too, nodding in agreement- she certainly had thought the same as she was running for her life from a fire breathing dragon. Ralof felt his gut tighten at the sound of her laugh, and the way her cheeks dimpled when she smiled stirred something primal within him.
"So," Idrissa said quickly, changing the subject back to its original course before more questions could be asked of her. "There is no High King currently?"
"No, not until the moot meets and elects another- and it wont meet until one side or the other wins this war." Ralof interjected, his eagerness to be done with the rebellion already evident in his tone.
" try not to worry brother" Gurder comforted, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Ulfric is our rightful High King. He will drive the Empire out, and Skyrim will have peace at last."
Idrissa could only agree, thinking that if half of Ulfrics followers were as dedicated as Ralof and Gurder, than his rise to power was inevitable. She didnt know for how long though- Skyrim was but one small province under the thumb of the Empire, and without its help they didnt stand a chance against the vast armies under the command of the third Aldmeri Dominion- who would doubtlessly attempt to invade should Skyrim fall out of line.
"You should come with me to Windhelm and join the Stormcloaks when its time to leave." Ralof told her for the second time that day, perking up as he took another drink.
"You really think so?" She asked, laughing inwardly at the idea- Idrissa was a warrior of the shadows, and her strength was in stealth, subtlety and caution- she felt she would make a poor soldier.
"Damn right- just like all true sons and daughters of Skyrim should." He affirmed, sounding as if he was completely sure of her ability. She gave him a small smile, wishing she had as much faith in herself as he seemed to have.
"I'll have to think about it...Everything has been happening so fast since Darkwater crossing..." She explained, suddenly reminded of the deep feeling of unrest she had felt inside herself since she had woken from the first dream she had envisioned, of herself somewhere far away from home- many such dreams had come to her since, each in a new place surrounded by different things- but the feeling always remained upon waking, that there was somewhere else she needed to be- which apparently, had not been Cyrodil...
"Its okay, you dont have to decide now," He told her, giving her an easy, reassuring smile. Idrissa was brought up short by the kindness in his expression and tone, and the way the light from the fire played upon his even features. "Plenty of time for that while we wait for the water to settle."
"Aye- speaking of which," She said, suddenly remembering her manners. "Gurder, I am ever thankful for you welcoming us into your home during our time of need...If there's anything i can do, please dont hesitate to ask." Idrissa was used to hard work, having worked the forge in Riften for a good amount of time- lumber wasnt something she was familiar with, but she was willing to learn and she was able bodied should the other woman need a helping hand around the mill.
"Well," Gurder began in a way that made Idrissa sense the older woman had already thought of a way for her to repay the debt. "There is something you could do for me- for all of us here, really." She told her, looking nervous and hopeful as she fixed her with her shimmering cerulean blue eyes that ever reminded her of her brother.
"Great," She exclaimed, smiling in a way she hoped would reassure the older woman. "How can i help?"
"The Jarl needs to know that there is a Dragon on the loose- Riverwood is defenseless..." She trailed off, eyes pleading with her. " We need to get word to Balgruuf in Whiterun to send whatever troops he can spare to Riverwood. If you'll do that for me, I'll be in your debt." taking a deep breath and straightening as she finished, Gurder braced herself for whatever reply may come.
"Ofcorse- it would be the least i could do to repay your kindness- and Ralof's heroism." Idrissa responded sincerely- Gurder seemed to relax even as she spoke, relief flooding her expression. "How do i get to Whiterun from here?"
" You head out the north gate and cross the River, and follow the road down passed the falls. You'll be able to see Whiterun on the hill from there." She told her, sounding relieved. Idrissa nodded, glad that she would not have to travel far.
"I will depart on the morrow- is there some place i can buy fresh supplies?"
"You can take whatever food you need from my pantry- but if you need anything else, the Riverwood Trader still has goods for sale...They were recently robbed, but strange enough, the robbers only took one thing." Gurder told her, making a face. "If its arms and armor you need though, you'll want to visit Alvor's smithy." Gurder gave Idrissa's dusty nightingale armor a quick critical look- it was fine lightweight armor, made of black leather, with ornate black steel sewn onto the leather to protect her vitals, shoulders and hips- but it was more so made for sneaking around unheard in the dark, rather than every day wear in broad daylight. Idrissa would have retired the armor for something more appropriate for travel, but all of her valuables and supplies had been confiscated by the legion upon her arrest, so she would have to deal with questioning glances and inquiries until she could find proper traveling gear- Fur would be more appropriate for Whiterun's frosty climate come the impending winter season.
"Right," She said, chugging the remaining contents of her bottle, and slurping down the last few bites of her stew. "I should be retiring for the night then- I'll want to get an early start." Gurder rose from the table with her, looking grateful.
"Come, I will show you to your bed for the night." She told Idrissa, motioning for her to follow as she turned to the staircase beside the hearth and table, that lead down to the cellar where they kept their winter storage of roots, ale, and other such things. After igniting the wall sconce by the doorway, Gurder used fresh rushes and hay to make up their beds, layering them with thick furs for comfort and warmth in the center of the room.
Ralof followed them down, helping his younger sister to make up their beds. Once they were made, Gurder bid them a good night, giving her brother a kiss on the cheek and a warm embrace before retreating back up the wooden steps to put Frodnar to bed and join her husband beneath their own furs.
"Would you allow me to help you out of your armor?" Ralof asked carefully, watching as she struggled with the straps on her cuirass- After three long days of wearing the steel and leather armor, she could hardly wait to be free of its weight.
"Aye, thank you." She answered gratefully, allowing him to move behind her to unlace and unstrap her where it was needed- It felt strange to allow a man to help, as she had never needed assistance with her armor before. It was intimate, somehow, and her insides squirmed in response to his touch and the heat of his body as he stood close- but the relief she felt when the heavy metal and thick leather was finally off made the discomfort of his unfamiliar touch worth it, in the end.
Below her armor, the thin black linen tunic she had worn was sweat stained and creased from wear, and her doeskin breeches were torn in a several spots. With a sigh, she added new clothing to her growing mental list of the things she would need once she had amassed enough coin, shaking her head as she did so.
Ralof moved around her toward his own makeshift bed on the dirt floor, trying to be discreet as he assessed the feminine curves that had previously been hidden beneath her lightweight armor- he could see now, through the thin material of her clothing, that she was only just beginning to grow into her womanhood- which answered as many questions as it raised in his mind.
As she placed her sword belt and boots beside her own sleeping spot, he reflected silently, thinking that if she had not been so young, he might have attempted to invite her into his own bed for the night- but something about the way she carried herself told him she had never known a man's touch before, and he was not sure how to make the offer.
Despite his silence, Idrissa could feel his eyes on her, so she faced away from him as she got beneath her furs and snuggled up, wrestling with her desire to peel off her stiff, stinky garments- but would Ralof see it as an invitation to enter her bed? Did she want him to? Idly, she wondered what it would feel like to allow herself to have someone that close- to allow him to show her Dibella's gifts of pleasure as man and woman...
but after he blew out the dim wall sconces that lit the room, her musings died as she was quickly overcome by her exhaustion, and sleep claimed her.
. . .
Idrissa rose first thing in the morning after a fitful sleep, where her mind seemed to play back all the horrifying things she had seen during her short lived captivity. upon waking, she felt as if she had ran a thousand leagues without rest, and deep circles had formed under her eyes- which only served to make their odd coloring more vivid.
Before emerging from the lower portion of the house where she and Ralof had slept, she wove her silver hair into an ornate braid that she pinned into a neat spiral to the back of her skull, donning her nightingale armor once more. The hut was empty already- likely everyone was already down at the mill, getting a jump on the days work load, so, Idrissa gave the home a once over for anything small that might be useful for her trip- keeping in mind not to be greedy. It still didnt feel right, taking what she had not earned, so she made sure to take only what she may need for a short trip to the hold capital- some apples, cured strips of venison, a waterskin, and a handful of loose septims that had been left out on the dinner table- as well as a bottle of the plain mead they had drank the night before, putting them all in a worn out knapsack Gurder had left for her before leaving.
Supplied and ready, she went outside and made her way toward a calm section of the river, where it widened before flowing quietly beneath the bridge. kneeling, she washed the soot from her face left over from the day before.
"Idrissa!" At the sound of her name, Idrissa looked up at the mill, toward the sound of Ralof's voice- catching sight of him as he waved frantically in her direction so that he might catch her eye where he stood by the saw. She waved back, silently wishing he would do a better job of being discrete- they were fugitives, after all.
" I almost didnt recognize you without all the soot on your face!" He called out to her in jest. She found herself smiling brightly up at him in turn, moving her hands up to her eyes to shield them from the sunlight as she did so. Ralof looked relaxed- at home- without his armor, and the only weapon he carried was a thick wood cutters axe. Sweat dewed on his brow and dampened the linen of his cream colored tunic.
"Well- I'd recognize you anywhere!" She retorted in turn. " If you dont be careful, the imperials will find you before your Jarl does!" Though she kept her tone light, she wasnt exactly joking- Ralof had a way of standing out, and his guts and valor would likely get him killed someday.
He laughed heartily- as most nords did- and smiled down at her once more.
"Before you go, i have a gift for you." He told her, disappearing from the railing, only to reappear around the mill, carrying a long bow in his hands. When he came closer, she got a better look at the weapon, and was surprised to see how fine it was. He stood before her then, and presented it to her.
The bow was long, and carved smooth. Ancient nordic runes decorated its lacquered surface- it wasnt as fine as her lost nightengale bow, but it was sturdy and well made.
"Its my bow- ive had it for years now." He told her softly as her eyes examined the polished wood. " Its strong- carved from the wood of an ancient Eldergleam tree. The smith carved runes of luck into it, and its always served me well...I want you to have it." She looked up at him sharply, touched by the weight of the gift.
"You honor me, Ralof." She told him, allowing him to place the weapon in her palms.
"Think of me when you use it- and remember- I'll be waiting for you in Windhelm. May Talos guide you on your travels."
Something caught in her throat as he spoke, and she found she had to will herself not to tear up in front of him- but Ralof's eyes somehow managed to look through her facade, and his grin only broadened in response. She had to take a few moments to find her words, before she could speak.
"And you, friend." She finally managed, allowing him to strap his quiver to her armor before she hung her new weapon in place. They looked at each other for a long moment, before Ralof finally made the decision to slip his arms around her waist and pull her into a firm embrace- They had experienced a life changing event together, and survived when the odds were against them twice over. He would remember her for the rest of his life- and she knew for certain she would remember him.
. . .
. . .
Elisif the fair sat upon her late husbands throne, willing herself to pay attention to the goings on within her courtroom- weeks had passed since her husband was murdered by the Jarl of Windhelm, and in the wake of his death, the powers that be had seen fit to place the crown of Solitude on her brow- and she was surprised by the weight the elegant gold and ruby incrusted circlet possessed.
The first of her duties as the new Jarl of the capital was to put her husband to rest, and oversee that the palace had undergone the proper transition into mourning- replacing the blue curtains that covered the grand windows with curtains of black, and ensuring that each servant and household member take the black as well to convey that they were a house in mourning- as was the custom of Tamriels nobility.
Once the formalities had been carried out, her council had begun to discuss what must be done with the gate guard who had been arrested shortly after Ulfric had fled the capital- the bold nord man- a local man named Roggvir- had opened the gates to allow Ulfric his escape after he had murdered Torygg while he was injured and unable to defend himself, or "in cold blood" as Tullius had put it.
Her court consisted of Toryggs closest retainers- to her right hand, stood Falk Firebeard, her steward- She directed the day to day tasks his way. To her left, stood her personal houscarl, Bolgier Bearclaw- a hardy experienced nord warrior of renowned battle prowess, honor bound by oath to protect the royal family. He was fierce looking, armored head to toe in gleaming gelded silver steel plating, his shoulder length auburn hair braided at the side to hang by his strong square jaw. he wore his thick red beard trimmed, framing the hard line of his mouth, and- Elisif swore - the mans sharp brown eyes missed nothing.
"There can be no question about it," Erikur- one of her two Thane's was saying. "He must be executed- in public- to make an example. Treason cannot be tolerated."
"Its not that simple- Ulfric made a lawful challenge, and Torygg accepted. If we kill this man we are telling the people that there own laws and traditions dont matter, and that will only serve to legitimize Ulfrics cause." Bryling argued- ever the voice of reason. Erikur fixed her with a look of frustrated exasperation.
"If we allow our high king to be murdered with impunity, we are telling the people that we are a government that is not to be feared- chaos will ensue and open the door for Ulfric to usurp the throne regardless."
"We could sentence him to a life of imprisonment?" She offered- and Elisif wasnt sure which death she would prefer for the man who had let her husbands killer escape justice- Death sounded appropriate, but then, if she had to live out her count of days in the shadow of Torygg's passing, why shouldnt he as well?
"No decision is to be made until general Tullius returns from his mission." Elisif reminded her Thane's dutifully- Tullius had taken a leading role in advising her, and as the Emperors appointed governor, his decisions in matters of war during Skyrims state of civil unrest were to be the deciding factor in all important discussions- which she was thankful for; She had not anticipated finding herself playing a leading role in her countries political system, and as such, she found herself woefully unprepared.
"Are there any other matters up for discussion?" Elisif asked meekly, forcing herself to make eye contact with each of her subjects as she spoke.
"Aye," Bolgier broke from his statuesk guards stance to turn to address his jarl directly. "we've lost another four guardsmen, my jarl- If general Tullius keeps conscripting our men and sending them off to battle, we'll soon have none left to protect the city."
"Yes- i know." She replied quickly, feeling her stress levels rise. " The general acted with my blessing- it is vital that we bring Ulfric to Justice, but that cant happen until his army has been defeated utterly."
"Told you that did he?" Bolgier narrowed his eyes at the thought of the general, who cared more about killing Ulfric than he did protecting their former queen consort. "I am sworn to protect you, my lady, but i am the last line of defense- the first line is the walls around the city and the men who patrol them- Men whom, i might add, we are precious short on."
"I am aware of that, Bolgier- and i appreciate your dedication, however, if we lose the war, the guardsmen in Solitude will make little difference in the end." She told him, reciting all of Tullius's excuses prettily, as he had bid her to do in his absence.
"No disrespect toward the general, but sometimes i wonder if he truly has your best interest at heart- it any case, he wont be turnin' me into no Imperial Soldier. I know my place, and its by your side." The big man declared eloquently, turning the full force of his gaze upon her. Elisif's throat constricted as she looked away from him, moved by his words in her delicate state of mind- it was good to know she could count on someone in the snakes den of a palace.
"It comforts me to know that, Bolgier- You are a shinning example to us all." She told the man honestly in her soft, calming voice.
"Yes, thats all very touching," Erikur interjected once more- it seemed as if he never tired of hearing his own voice. "But the war will be over soon anyway- we received a courier this morning carrying a letter with the generals seal. It seems the ambush was successful, and they were enroot to Helgen Keep to put an end to Ulfric once and for all...Any day now, we should receive news that this rebellion is at an end."
Elisif stood then, feeling quite overwhelmed with the news. Could she dare hope that it was true?
"Please excuse me my lords and ladies- I find myself quite weary in this moment, i think i will retire early tonight." She told them, desperate for the privacy of her own chambers and the comfort of her bed. Nobody objected, each member of the court standing with her and giving her a courteous bow before she made her hasty retreat from the room.
Desperately, she half jogged through the hallways for the solace of her chambers, fighting the tears that clouded her vision until at last, she entered into the sprawling suite where her handmaidens were busily tidying her things- she bid them to help her undress as she held a delicate composure before dismissing them, allowing herself to fall into her furs and at last allow herself to fall apart in private- they still smelled of Torygg, so she inhaled deeply through her sobs and allowed the comforting scent to lull her into a dreamless slumber as she silently prayed to Mara that this nightmare of a war would truly at last be over.
. . .
Whiterun hold- Skyrims central holdfast- stood tall and proud upon the hill of dragons, once known as Arohlsdovah. Idrissa had read many a story about the cities founder, The Jeek of river, who was the leader of the companions that built the first buildings in what would become one of the greatest cities in the realm. She also remembered the tale of Olaf- one eye, who had captured and isolated the terrible Dragon, Numinex within the palace, earning the palace its current name "Dragonsreach"- Seeing the ancient wooden and stone palisade walls upon the large bluff that raised the city above the surrounding tundra filled her with wonder, and for a moment she could scarce believe she was truly there.
It was surrounded by several farms- and the honningbrew meadery, which she knew to be the only competition for her former patron, Maven Blackbriar back in Riftin. It was here along these roads that merchants and farmers oft traveled to sell their goods, making Whiterun the commercial heart of Skyrim.
As she walked, her thoughts were interrupted when she passed the meadery, only to behold a sight that would make grown men quake in their boots- a giant was stomping angrily through the farm nearest to the city, most likely attempting to abscond with one of the farmers many cows. It kicked at the wooden fencing that bordered his crop fields and swung at the warriors who were attempting to subdue it with the trunk of a tree as it bellowed angrily, making the ground shake as it did so.
As Idrissa readied her bow, she heard Brinjolf's voice caution in her mind. "Choose your battles wisely." He had told her so many times before- but the advise was null and void once the light glinting off her metal plating caught the eye of the giant, and it began stampeding toward her.
Idrissa swallowed hard, spreading her legs apart and taking aim- only for it to fall, crashing to the ground heavily as one of the warriors arrows pierced the back of its skull clean through to its right eye. The gargantuan behemoth tore a deep scar into the ground as it rolled and skidded to a halt just feet away from where she was standing as her heart hammered furiously against her ribcage- It had all happened so fast, all she had been able to do as her brain struggled to catch up with current events was stand there and gape as the three warriors approached the giant to inspect their kill.
"Well thats taken care of, no thanks to you." A tall woman, clad in forest green hunting leathers and armed with a simple bow, told her as she read Idrissa's dumbfounded expression where she stood still in the road- the huntress was a striking woman, with long tresses of fierce auburn hair and a face smeared with black war paint that accentuated the bright green of her eyes. As her two comrades came nearer to inspect the death wound, she saw that they were equally as striking.
The younger girl- an imperial- was about Idrissa's age, wearing leather studded armor trimmed in bright colored fur- She wore red war paint over her dull golden eyes, much like the others, and paid Idrissa little attention as she inspected the huntresses kill. The man was unmistakably nordic- as large as any man she had seen in all her years, whose attractiveness was equal to his great height and broad musculature. He might have even been the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on, she thought objectively as he bent to snag a trophy from the trolls limp mass, drawing her attention to his tight, defined glutes...
His shoulders were wide, with a chest just as broad- and not an ounce of fat clung to any part of the young nords tall chiseled physique. He was even featured- save for a crooked nose that looked like it had been broken several times over, though it didnt seem to diminish his attractiveness in the least. His jaw was like an avil- strong and hard- and she could see through his closely trimmed black Vandyke that his chin was pleasantly dimpled, matching the feint ones near the corners of his mouth... His most prominent feature, however, was beneath a layer of smeared black war paint; Eyes that were the brightest silver blue she had ever seen- like that of the moons that circled nirn every night. clad in traditional nordic armor of steel and fur, he bore a broadsword that in his big hands, she had no doubt, could split a man in two.
Trolls blood, she thought, feeling her throat go dry as she watched him circle the giants carcass, bright eyes flashing up to hers every few seconds. Now thats a man... He grinned as he felt her eyes follow him, straightening to run a hand through his tousled raven locks to push his thick, curling bangs back from his forehead- Idrissa's face turned six different shades of red and she pointedly looked away, refocusing on the huntress who had addressed her to collect her composure.
"Looked like you guys had it covered from here." She mumbled, trying not to look chagrined as she slung her bow back over her shoulder.
"A valiant warrior relishes the opportunity to face a fearsome foe." The woman continued to berate- and somehow Idrissa felt like she was an apprentice again, being chastised by the older members of the guild. "Thats why i am here with my shield brothers."
"A wise warrior knows how to pick an opponent." She countered, lifting her chin in defiance and meeting the other woman's vivid gaze full on. "What is a shield brother?"
"An outsider eh?" She exclaimed, smirking as her comrades moved in to flank her on either side. "never heard of the Companions? we're an order of warriors- brothers and sisters in honor. we show up and solve problems, and win honor and glory for our shield siblings- if the coin is good enough."
As fate would have it, Idrissa did know of the companions- they were an ancient order of warriors that had been lead by Ysgramor himself, hailing from Atmora in the days of old. Once, they had been heroes of the people, each warrior wearing honor and glory like armor- but these days, she had heard they were little more than up jumped mercenaries selling their blades for steep prices.
"Could i join?" She asked curiously, as if on impulse, earning a strange look from the huntress- and a broad smile from the handsome man.
"Thats not for me to say- You'd have to talk to Kodlak Whitemane, up at Jorvaskre. The old man has a real sense for people- he can look into your eyes and tell your worth...If you go to him, good luck." She advised, nodding politely before at last turning back to yank her arrow out of the giants skull- plucking his eyeball out in the process.
. . .
. . .
As Idrissa made her way up the shallow slope of hill leading to the city gates, she looked around her in wonder at its now crumbling outer wall. Once, Whiterun had been a heavily fortified city, able to withstand a siege for up to three years- but now, the stone was crumbling, whole sections having already fallen away from the main structure, as wooden watch towers replaced the long eroded guard towers that once looked out across the vast open plains- it wouldn't take an Imperial army longer than three hours to impregnate the wall that stood before her now.
The men manning the towers watched carefully as she crossed over the drawbridge, causing her to break into a nervous sweat as she finally crested the top of the first great slope leading to the keeps entry yard, where two men were stationed on the ground to guard the gate.
"Halt- cities closed with the dragons about." One of the two guardsmen told her, putting out a hand as she approached. "Official business only."
So, news of the Dragon attack had indeed finally reached Whiterun, she thought idly as she prepared to answer. "Aye," She told him firmly, straightening as she made eye contact, tilting her chin upward to appear authoritative despite her slight stature. "I have news from Helgen, about the Dragon attack- and Riverwood calls for the Jarl's aid." She added, figuring that if the plight of the villagers of Riverwood didnt seem important enough to merit entrance, perhaps information regarding the recent Dragon attack would.
The men shared a short, worried glance before turning back to her and nodding to acknowledge her request.
"Right then, you'd better go in and talk to the Jarl up in Dragonsreach." The first man told her as his partner signaled up to the guard stationed above them on top of the wall. "Weve got our eyes on you." The other warned. Moments later the doors were being pulled open from the inside to reveal the simple, worn dirt streets of the bustling plains district- the lowest level of the tri-tiered city.
As the doors opened, Idrissa was assailed by the stink of it all. Her nostrils flared as she breathed it in eagerly, taking in the scents of smoke, sweat, compost and ale- and as she moved through the thresh hold, satisfaction made her insides thrum with excitement. Whiterun was one of Skyrims oldest settlements, and she could scarce believe she was truly there.
The lowest tier of the city was called the plains district, due to its proximity to the vast plains that surrounded the keep. Commercial huts lined either side of the worn dirt road leading to the market stalls, which dominated the city square- It was at this level that the citizens gathered to buy and sell their wares, or to have a drink and find a bed at one of the two Inn's Whiterun had to offer. People of all classes and races gathered here in the spirit of trade.
"...We'll pay whatever it takes." Idrissa's heart nearly skipped a beat when she realized the man standing in front of the first shop- a modest blacksmiths hut- was clad in proud Imperial armor from head to toes. "But we must have more swords for the Imperial soldiers."
The man was speaking to an able bodied Imperial woman, whose sweaty brow and soot stained work clothes wouldhave gave away her trade even if she hadnt been standing right next to her forge.
"I just dont think I can fill an order of that size on my own- Why dont you swallow that stubborn pride of yours, and go ask Eorlund Greymane for help?" The woman tried to reason with the man, crossing her arms and shifting her weight impatiently to her other side- eager to get back to her work.
"Bah!" He snorted, shaking his head indignantly. "Id sooner bend the knee to Ulfric Stormcloak- besides, Greymane would never make steel for the Empire..."
"Have it your way," She gave in to his stubborness. "Ill take this on- but dont expect a miracle." He nodded to the woman, visably relieved, and Idrissa let out her pent up breath as the soldier turned on his heel to march back up the stone steps behind him. The smith- unimpressed by his show of superiority- shook her head as she turned away to resume hammering on a piece of armor at her workbench.
guided by her sense of duty- and insatiable curiosity- Idrissa continued down the pathway, weaving expertly through the throng of shoppers and vendors throughout the hustle and bustle of the market stalls built strategically around the city waterwell, within the circle of its most prominent shops- The bannered mare Inn, an apothecary, and a modest looking supply shop- Here, all around her she could hear the voices of the people; vendors pitching their sales and trying to grab the attention of browsers, customers inquiring on quality and price, and even the sound of raucous song coming from the busy Inn.
She continued on, invigorated, and allowed the path to lead her up the steep steps to the second tier of the city- The wind district. The air was fresher at this level, the scents of the plains district being swept away by the winds that blew over the hill. White field stone covered the walk ways, and the center of the district courtyard was dominated by a dormant Gildergreen tree, whose bare branches reached out to shelter nearly the whole square. Benches had been placed beneath it, so that residents might sit peacefully and pray outside of the grand temple of Kynoreth- which was the tallest of the buildings within the residential district, if not the most beautiful. The peaceful atmosphere, however, was disturbed by the overly passionate preaching coming from a poorly dressed priest standing below a defaced statue of Talos who stood to the side of the last set of steps.
"I breath now, in Royalty, and reshape this land that is mine- i do this for you, Red legions, for I LOVE YOU! Aye- love! LOVE! Even as a man, great Talos cherished us, for he saw in us- in each of us-the future of Skyrim...the future of Tamriel!" Idrissa listened to his words carefully as she came to stand before him while he raised his hands to the sky in praise to his warrior god, Talos, as she knew nothing about his doctrine or teachings- he wasnt an original God within the religious Pantheon, having allegedly ascended to divinity as a man, so she supposed he probably didnt any.
"And there it is friends, the ugly truth! we are the children of man...Talos is the true God of man, Ascended from flesh to rule the realm of spirits! The very idea is inconceivable to our Elven overlords- Sharing the heavens with us? With man? Ha- They can barely tolerate our presence on nirn! Today, they take away your faith- but what of tomorrow? What then? Do the elves take your homes? your businesses? Your children? Your very lives?" The priest paused dramatically in his speech for effect, allowing the meaning of his words to sink in- and she had to give it to him- His speech was moving, and he had a good point- the Elves were slowly taking away their rights and liberties as a free race, and over the years they would doubtlessly keep chipping away at their culture until the races of men buckled underneath the pressure, allowing them to finally assume dominion over all of nirn.
"And what does the Empire do? Nothing- Nay! Worse than nothing! The Imperial machine enforces the will of the Thalmor! Against its own People! So rise up! Rise up children of the Empire! Rise up, Stormcloaks! Embrace the word of mighty Talos- he who is both man, and Divine! Trust in me, Whiterun! Trust in Heimskr- For i am the chosen of Talos! I alone have been anointed by the nine to spread his holy word!"
Idrissa nearly applauded, shaking her head at the stirring inside her core that his words had evoked- it reminded her of home, and how the local Priest had often tried to preach to the locals within the Bee and the Barb Inn, seeking out the den of iniquity to deliver the Gods messages to the sinners within, so that they might change their ways- and if the redgaurd had been half as good as old Heimskr, perhaps the people of Riftin wouldhave put down their intoxicants and bottles of alcohol in favor of the Gods blessings after all?
Refocusing once more, she turned to her right to see the mead hall of the Companions- Jorrvaskre- where the city had been founded. Just looking at it felt like looking back in time. Above it, smoke rose from the ancient skyforge where Eorlund Greymane worked, using the heat from the natural forge to create Tamriels finest and purest weapons and armor- nobody knew exactly what made the skyforge so hot, but the quality of the steel it produced was unmatched by any other forge on the continent, and if the Jeek of River hadnt discovered it, Whiterun would never have existed.
Reluctantly, she turned away, reminding herself yet again that she was on a mission, allowing herself to continue up the final stairway to the Cloud District.
. . .
Dragonsreach was a sprawling palace, built in the old Atmoran style with high slanted rooftops sheltered by cedar shakes, arching ceilings and thick wooden support beams placed at even intervals down the length of a great longhall. Wide windows had been built up high, to allow the natural sunlight to filter down from the second story balconies overlooking the Jarls courtroom, and the remaining shadows were banished by the glowing embers from the long, narrow stone hearth that took up the length of the halls center. On either side of the hearth, were two polished longtables, laden with more food than Idrissa had ever seen in her life- With the Jarl, Balgruuf, sitting upon his throne on the raised platform at the very end of it all, surrounded by his council.
"My lord, please- you have to listen." An Imperial man in fine clothes of wool and red dyed cotton beseeched his Jarl from his spot below him to the right. "I only council caution, we cannot afford to act rashly in times like these- if the news from Helgen is true...Then theres no telling what it means."
"What would you have me do then, Proventus? Nothing?" The jarl retorted haughtily, in a voice that reminded her of a crackling fire on a calm night.
"Ofcorse not, thats not what I'm trying to say at all- we need more information before we act! I just-"
"Whose this then?" The jarl interrupted the Imperial- Proventus- Upon seeing Idrissa approach, and all eyes turned to her.
Idrissa had just reached the top of the first grand, shallow staircase, when a fierce middle aged, auburn haired Dunmer clad in elven leather armor spotted her, drawing a dagger and moving swiftly from her spot in the shadows to intercept her before she could reach the Jarl.
"What is the meaning of this interruption?" The Dunmer woman growled at her in low tones. "Jarl Balgruuf is not receiving any visitors." Something about the way she carried herself reminded Idrissa of a crouching panther, muscles coiled as she prepared to spring on her prey.
"G-Gurder sent me..." Embarrassingly, she had to force herself to speak up under the pressure of the other womans gaze, and she found it hard to meet her scrutinizing red eyes. "Riverwood is in danger-And i have news concerning Helgen."
Suspicion was etched into the mer's dark features as she narrowed her eyes, listening for anything in her voice that might indicate a threat or deception. "As houscarl, my job is to deal with all of the dangers that threaten the Jarl or his people- so you have my attention... Now, explain yourself." Her voice was deep and smooth- like velvet- and laced with unspoken threats.
"I was told to give the message directly to the Jarl." Idrissa insisted, determined not to let the mer intimidate her as she tilted her chin up and met her gleaming red gaze. She looked over her shoulder briefly to see all eyes were watching, straining their ears to listen.
"Whatever you have to say to the Jarl, you can say to me. Im starting to think-"
"Irileth!" Balgruuf called out to her as he craned his neck to see passed her. "Let her pass, I want to hear what she has to say." Idrissa swallowed hard at the authority in his tone.
At his order, his houscarl- Irileth- reluctantly stepped aside. "Im keeping my eyes on you." The mer promised her as she slipped passed, approaching the lord of Whiterun hold with caution.
Balgruuf's sea foam green eyes watched her closely as she came near, his features guarded as he sized her up. leaning back against his throne, he looked down to where she stood from his raised position on the platform, making her feel even smaller than she truly was- though he couldhave done that easily enough just by standing next to her; He was as tall and wide as the bear of markarth had been- though his disposition seemed a little less patient and more prone to outbursts- like a seemingly dormant volcano that could erupt as soon as the pressure became too much...He tried to appear largely stoic, though the hard set of his strong jaw gave him an air of determination that was admirable, and his relaxed positioning all but exuded pride and confidence.
"Well- I trust you have something vitally important to tell me? Important enough to interrupt me in the middle of my council?" He chastised, made impatient by the lengthy discussion with his council, and the interruption that would only make it last that much longer. Her cheeks heated up in a blush, and she looked down at the floor to avoid his eyes as she collected her thoughts and composure.
"Aye- as I told your houscarl, it concerns the dragon attack at Helgen, milord." She told him politely, knowing it would get his attention if she stated that fact first.
"Were you there, than? Did you see this Dragon with your own eyes?" He asked quickly, all at once giving her his complete and undivided attention.
"Aye milord...the Imperials were about to execute Ulfric Stormcloak, but were interrupted by the Dragon before they could finish the job." She explained, thinking it best that she not reveil the extent of her own involvement in said events- he didnt seem like the type to tolerate degenerates in his hall.
Balgruuf shifted in his chair at the mention of the other Jarl. "Should have known Ulfric would be mixed up in this somehow." He retorted ironically, rolling his eyes. "What else happened?"
"Death happened. They were all set to start executing the rebels, than out of nowhere...The Dragon attacked. It burned everything to the ground- A few of us managed to escape but..." She trailed off as she recalled Tolfdir and his son hamming, and the sight of men burning to ash, and the smell of smoke and charred meat. "...Last I saw, it was headed this way."
"By Ysmir!.." He exclaimed, sitting up straight in his chair. "Irileth, you were right!" He told his houscarl with wide eyes, thankful that he had taken the precautions she had suggested in fortifying the cities defense.
" Gurdur in riverwood is afraid that they may be next." Idrissa interjected quickly, determined to pass on Gurdurs message and return her hospitality.
"Gurder...owns the mill, if im not mistaken?" He asked, the flicker of recognition in his eyes as he tasted her name on his tongue. " Pillar of the community...not prone to flights of fancy." Everyone was quiet as he assessed the landowners traits and weighed the validity of her words.
"Your sure that this wasnt some stormcloak trick?" He asked after a minute, almost looking hopeful for any reason to doubt what the evidence before him meant- that dragons had truly returned to Skyrim.
Idrissa remembered the sounds of the people screaming then, and how the ash had fallen from the smoke filled sky. She remembered how men had been engulfed in fire, charred to crisps until they were nothing but ashen embers blowing in the wind.
"Ive never been more sure of anything in my life."
Balgruuf looked to his right, where the Imperial man stood at the foot of the steps that lead up to the throne. " What do you say now, Proventus? Shall we continue to trust in the strength of our walls? Against a Dragon?" His words conjured images of the crumbling ancient stone wall that guarded the city, and Idrissa nearly grimaced- she doubted it would stand up against even a small host of enemy bombardment, much less a Dragon attack.
Proventus's mouth moved wordlessly as he sputtered, failing to come up with a worthy retort.
"My lord, we should send a troupe to Riverwood at once." Irileth interrupted the man before he could come up with something intelligible. "It's in the most immediate danger, if that dragon is lurking in the mountains." That put the wind back in the Imperial mans sails.
"The Jarl of Falkreith will view that as a provocation! He will assume we are preparing to join Ulfrics side and attack him! We should not-"
"Enough!" Balgruuf barked, silencing the man. "I'll not stand idly by while a dragon burns my hold and slaughters my people! Irileth- send a detachment to Riverwood at once." At his words, Idrissa felt a sudden flare of respect for the Jarl. He was a man of honor, and action- and it appeared as if he actually cared about the people under his rule.
"Yes, my Jarl." Irileth said, bowing courgaly before turning on her heel to carry out his orders without hesitation- Idrissa wondered what Balgruuf had done to elicit such dedication from his head houscarl, and noted the absence of a spousal position within his council, wondering if the Jarl didnt have a certain fondness for dunmer women.
Angered by the blatant disregard for his words of caution, Proventus straightened himself, bowing stiffly to his Jarl. "If you'll excuse me then, I shall return to my duties." The Jarls eyes narrowed at his stewards words, but he remained calm, simply nodding in agreement.
"I think that would be best..." He told the man, before he stalked off into the shadows and disappeared down some hall. They watched him go, before Balgruuf turned his attention back to his guest once more. "Well done- you sought me out on your own initiative, and done Whiterun a service. I wont forget it- I will see to it that Proventus has you paid. If you desire further payment, I also would offer another task- suitable for someone with your particular talents." Idrissa wondered idly what she looked like to the Jarl, and what he imagined her talents to be exactly, before responding carefully.
"What would this task entail?"
"Come, lets go find Farengar- my court wizard." He told her, eyes sparkling as he stood and stepped down from the throne he had been sitting on. "He's been looking into a mater related to these dragons, and rumors of dragons." All that seemed to remain of the council was a single houscarl, who stood to the Jarls left. He was a big man, who proudly sported the traditional leather and fur lined armor of his people that displayed his impressive set of bulging muscles- most likely gained by swinging around the heavy runed steel warhammer strapped to his back.
"Hrongar, I think we're done for the day, you may return to your routine while I acquaint our guest with the court wizard." Hrongar nodded, and left the room to patrol the many halls within the sprawling palace as Balgruuf turned Idrissa away from the throne area.
"I just have to warn you, about Farengar. He can be a bit...Difficult. Mages, you know?" He told her, grinning and rolling his eyes as he led her on toward an archway in the center of the far wall. "He is always puttering around in his lab- day and night. Im not sure if he ever sleeps." Despite his words, she couldnt tell from his tone that Balgruuf had a certain kind of respect and affection for his resident court wizard- as difficult as mages might be.
Beyond the arching wood trimmed entry, was what appeared to be a small Arcanum; It had an alchemy station, as well as an enchanting table, and all manor of books and ingredients that filled the shelves and sat piled up in stacks on every available surface.
His desk wasnt much better, but she could tell it was organized chaos, as in the center of the surface sat an old crinkled up map leading to...something- a larger, modern map hung on a display to his right for comparison purposes. "Farengar! I think i have found someone who may be able to help you with your dragon project- this is..."
"Idrissa." She told them, blushing as she introduced herself, which didnt seem to convince Farengar of her ability. He was standing in front of the large map, clad in hooded blue mages robes, only turning his head toward them as he assessed the Jarls new recruit- inwardly scoffing at the notion that Balgruuf had run out of worthy soldiers for him, and was now resorting to arming tavern wenches and brothel girls to do his bidding.
"Aye- Idrissa. This is a priority now- anything we can use to fight this dragon, or dragons," He stated in plural, emphasizing the possibility there may be more than one dragon out there. "We need it quickly, before it's too late."
"Ofcourse, Jarl Balgruuf- you seem to have found me an able assistant. Im sure she will prove most useful." Was that sarcasm she heard? Balgruuf didnt seem to notice if it was, turning back to her as if he hadnt spoken at all.
"If you succeed in this, you will be rewarded, and whiterun will owe you a debt of gratitude." He told her seriously, looking at her with what felt like respect. She averted her gaze shyly as she nodded, forcing herself to look back up at him from under her lashes as she thanked him, and gave him a shallow curtsey- made slightly awkward by her armor. The Jarl's expression faltered momentarily as she looked up at him, and in reaction to her blush and the vulnerability in her response, he subconsciously reassessed her assets quickly- which only further served to undermine Farengar's faith in her usefulness- before leaving her alone with the wizard.
Idrissa cleared her throat as she looked back to the mage, straightening her posture now that most of the pressure had departed from the atmosphere at the Jarl's exit.
"So, the Jarl thinks you can be of some use to me." He said pleasantly while still managing to convey his sense of doubt. "He is ofcorse talking about my research on the dragons- as he so helpfully told you earlier. What i really mean is, i need someone to fetch something for me- and when i say fetch, what i really mean is that i need someone to delve deep within a dangerous, ancient ruin to fetch a stone tablet that may or may not actually be there."
"What does this have to do with dragons?" She asked skeptically, eyes narrowing at the tricky wizard- It was only smart to know the details of a contract before signing it.
"Ahah-" He exclaimed, almost pleasantly surprised. "No brute mercenary eh, but a thinker? Perhaps even a scholar? You see, when the stories of the dragons began to circulate, many disregarded them as mere fantasies. Rumors. Impossibilities- but, one sure mark of a fool is to dismiss anything that falls out of ones personal experience as being impossible- but not me." He told her, a spark in his onyx eyes as he puffed up with pride. "I began to seek out information about dragons and ask questions- where had they gone all those years ago? Where are they coming from now?" For some reason it peeved Idrissa to admit the man made sense, and she had to give him credit for being able to step away from the cultural bias the nords had against anything having to do with magic.
"Alright then- Where am i going and what am i fetching exactly?" She acquiesced, needing the money and feeling a strange sense of obligation to help rid nirn of the monster that had nearly killed her only days ago.
"I see you are eager to begin your adventure." Farengar said dryly, struggling to keep from shaking his head. She was either extremely confident- or blissfully ignorant of the dangers that faced her in the barrow he would be sending her into. "Excellent...the sooner we begin, the sooner we are done, huh? well- I, ah, learned of a certain stone tablet that is said to be housed within bleakfalls barrow- a Dragonstone that is said to contain a map of ancient dragon burial sites." Idrissa remembered the barrow that Ralof had shown her as they descended from the foothills leading to Riverwood and felt a strange sense of irony that made her brain tingle- as if all the events leading to that point had now fallen into place and connected somehow.
"Climb up to Bleakfalls barrow, go in and find this tablet- no doubt entombed within the main chamber- and bring it back here to me. Simplicity in itself." He explained lightly, as if it would be the easiest thing in the world to accomplish.
"Right- well. I have had quite a tiresome few days- if youll excuse me, I'm going to rest and prepare." She told him firmly, wanting nothing more than to find herself a hot bath, tasty dinner with something to drink- and perhaps even a warm soft bed that was not on a floor or cart so that she might at last have a good nights sleep.
"Ofcourse, I'm sure it was a long, terrifying experience." Idrissa ignored his fake sympathy and dry tone, turning on her heel with a sense of a job well done. "Fare thee well." she herd him say as she strode confidently out the door.
