The next week passed in a flurry of activity. As Tullius' caravan was due by weeks end, Captain of the Guard Aquillius Autrilchiotus had all but threatened flog the entire garrison if the town wasn't up to perfect Imperial regulation by the time the General arrived. Between making sure the town and the fort were held up, as well as leading search parties into the surrounding wilderness to try and locate any more of the werebears, Percy's week passed by quickly.
Percy was pulled from a deep sleep as Petrid roughly kicked the side of his bed, jolting Percy awake. He staggered upright, his hand grasping the small blade he kept hidden beneath the pillow, and scanning the room for possible threats.
"By the Divine, you're awfully jumpy today," groused Petrid wearily, backing away from the bed and eyeing the blade in Percy's hand.
Percy, after taking a moment to calm his racing heart, collapsed back onto the cot. His hand still clenched tightly to the hilt of the small blade.
"You would be too, if you had spent all night fending off a small horde of fucking spiders the size of Rottweilers."
Petrid flinched. "Heard about that. Is it-is it true about Allad?"
Percy sighed and nodded, neither opening his eyes nor getting up from his cot. "Bastards jumped him and dragged him off before we could even do anything. When we found him, the venom had already taken its effect."
Petrid paled and quickly averted his gaze. "A damn gang of drugar, men that can turn into bears, and now hordes of fucking spiders. Gods…what the hell is this nightmare?"
Percy didn't answer, opting instead to change the subject. "Tullius here?"
Petrid looked thankful for the change of topic. "Not yet, due to arrive in the next couple of hours supposedly, but Captain Autrilchiotus is calling for all hands. Wants to make it a spectacle I'd imagine."
"There's a fucking surprise," Percy grumbled, pulling himself free from his cot and getting gingerly to his feet. He was still smarting bruises from the night before. What he would give for nectar and ambrosia. Or even just a good riverbed. "I'm willing to bet a year's salary that Tullius doesn't so much as blink at him when he stops by."
Petrid didn't answer, flushing somewhat behind the ears. He was always uncomfortable whenever Percy mocked or questioned Captain Autrilchiotus. Probably a result of the strict aristocratic hierarchy that dominated Imperial society.
The rest of the morning passed slowly. There was a tense energy around the town. Even the townsfolk walked with the stiffness and harried expression of a people on the brink of collapse. For his part, Percy wasn't too bothered by the sudden visit. Though he was comfortable in his position in life, and with his job, he was far from a patriot. He might have been thankful to the Legion for putting a roof over his, and for giving him a home, but he wasn't an Imperial. Cyrodiil wasn't his home and Imperials weren't his people.
It was just about midday when the garrison was called to the gates of the city. Lining up in formation along the lone road from the gate. The entire town had assembled for the arrival of the most powerful Imperial in Skyrim, and at least it was a pleasant day. The sun shone brightly overhead, glinting off the shining armor of the assembled Legionnaires. Percy squinted, shifting uncomfortably as he tried not to blind himself on the sunlight reflecting from Jaraso's armor. He could understand the necessity for maintaining appearances with the General coming to town, but had it really been necessary to polish all of their armor to the point where he was nearly blinded.
Blessedly, Percy's attention was forced away from the blinding light as the heavy wooden gates to the town creaked open. The iron hinges screaming in protest, disturbing the still quiet of the early afternoon. Four enormous horses, similar to Clydesdales, cantered slowly through the gate. They dragged behind them a large and ornately decorated carriage. Covered in the beautiful red and black of the Imperial colors, the doors of the carriage were adorned with the large and black dragon of the Imperial dragon. The carriage was accompanied by a small platoon of soldiers. Judging by their armor, Percy guessed that even the lowest ranked among them had to be at least Praefect.
Percy's eyes were drawn to the lead rider. A large woman in the most impressive and ornate armor of the entire grouping. Percy suspected she must have been a Legate, the second in command to Tullius himself. Her eyes scanned amongst the assembled. The calculating and suspicious expression of a hardened veteran on alert for any potential threats.
Captain Autrilchiotus stepped away from the column and approached, maintaining a respectable distance from the carriage. Even in his armor, the Captain was not a large man. Likely a head and a half shorter than Percy, and with stomach that threatened to burst the straps of his steel cuirass. Percy was positive that even in this cold, the man was sweating. One of the soldiers near the rear dismounted his horse and approached the doors of the carriage. With a flourish, the carriage opened and Percy got his first look at General Tullius.
He was a large man. Imposing and powerfully built, even in spite of his clearly advancing age, as evidenced by his crown of snow-white hair. Percy thought he looked uncannily similar to the ancient Roman Emperors of old. A pang of homesickness lurched through his chest, and he suddenly felt painfully constricted by his leather armor. He screwed his eyes shut for a moment, allowing the cool breeze to dance across his skin. After a moment's quiet reflection, the constriction ceased and he opened his eyes once more.
"General Tullius," announced Captain Autrilchiotus extravagantly, bowing low and flourishing the man with a salute. Pressing his fist tightly to his breast.
"We are truly humbled and honored by your arrival, I hope that your travel wasn't too arduous from-"
"I will be taking command of the Garrison, Captain," interrupted Tullius. His voice was sharp and crisp. The voice of a man used to command. "Legate Rikke, see to the horses and then meet me inside." Without so much as a glance in the direct of Captain Autrilchiotus, Tullius strode forward and marched imperiously towards the Captain's private residence. The woman on the horse, Rikke, swiveled in her saddle and began barking orders at her men before turning to scowl down at Autrilchiotus.
"Where are your stables?"
Autrilchiotus flushed at being dismissed, but tried to compose himself. He swiveled, glaring into the mass of soldiers before locking his eyes on Percy's. He sighed, knowing what was about to come.
"Jackson!" He barked, "Show the Legate and the horses to the stables." Without responding, Percy broke the formation and approached the horses. Legate Rikke watched him approach warily. He jerked his head for her to follow him, and he began a slow walk in the direction of the stables. The 'clop clop clop' of hooves on cobble told him that Rikke was following close behind. They didn't exchange pleasantries as they walked, it appeared that Legate Rikke was a woman of few words. That was fine by him.
"What is that?" Rikle demanded, and Percy turned his head. They were passing Nelldar Asanson's tannery, and her gaze was fixed on the enormous mass of fur hanging from a hook by the tanning table.
"Oh, the werebear," grunted Percy. "Found it prowling around the walls a week or so ago."
"Any sign of the others?"
"Nope," they approached the door to the stalls, and Percy opened it. "Been scouring the forest and mountains all week. No sign of any others, just the one."
"How many were lost taking it?"
"None."
Rikke swiveled her gaze to Percy as she hopped smoothly off her mount and allowed Percy to take the reins and begin leading the horse into the stalls.
"Your garrison must be blessed then. I've known of many who were lost to those monsters."
"Something like that." Percy finished his task, leading the other horses to the few empty stalls left over.
"Is there anything more that you require, Legate?" Percy asked. He was on patrol later that evening and wanted to try and catch a few more hours of rest before his shift. Rikke eyed him for a moment before shaking her head.
"That will be all Sergeant."
Percy nodded, dipped into a stiff salute, and made his exit from the stalls. He could feel the woman's eyes on him the entire time as he left.
It was only a few days later that he ran into the tight-lipped Legate again. He had been in the horse stalls, busying himself with tending to their feed when the woman approached. He turned at the approaching footsteps, and frowned. She was dressed for combat, carrying a second shield in her free hand. He shrugged off her arrival and turned back to his task.
"Sergeant Jackson,"
He turned, and without a word she tossed the shield at him. Percy grabbed it deftly and stared quizzically at her.
"We're going hunting," she explained, "Come." She turned, clearly expecting Percy to follow. Percy sighed, seriously considering not following but ultimately decided that the punishment wouldn't be worth it. Rolling his eyes, he strapped the shield to his left arm and followed after her. He caught up to her quickly enough, his slightly longer stride making it easy to make up the distance.
"Want to tell me what we're hunting?"
"Werebears," she said simply. Percy's eyebrows furrowed.
"We've been sending scouting parties into the wilds all week and haven't found anything."
"Then clearly you haven't been looking in the right places."
Percy had to stop himself from snorting derisively. They were nearly at the front gate, the two guards nodding at them and allowing them to pass without question. Percy frowned.
"Well in that case, we should stop and pick up reinforcements."
She glanced up at him, eyebrow disappearing under the lip of her helm. "Doubting my combat ability?"
"No Legate," said Percy, "But if these things hunt in packs of three to four, then we're going to be dealing with a minimum of two of the bastards. Even best-case scenario, that means we're going to be fighting with the same numbers against a physically superior opponent. Worst case, we're not only outmanned, but outgunned."
Rikke furrowed her brow at the turn of phrase, but she clearly was intelligent to use context clues to piece it together and she shrugged.
"I suppose we'll see just how adaptable you are then sergeant."
Percy sighed, and didn't press the issue further. But as they made their way off of the road and began traversing into the thick vegetation of the forest, Percy felt an uncomfortable shiver run down his arms. He glanced suspiciously at the woman beside him. There was something more going on. His hand surreptitiously moved to the hilt of his sword.
They walked for at least an hour in utter silence. Nothing but the soft sounds of the forest and the life therein to fill the empty space. They were just walking through an open clearing, when Rikke stopped. Percy continued past her a few steps, before turning to look at her. Like him, her own hand was tightly gripping the hilt of her weapon.
"So, care to tell me what this was really about?"
Rikke stared at him for a moment. Not speaking for a solid minute. When she finally did speak, her voice was soft, though it still carried over the stillness of the forest.
"You left some details out of your story the other day, Sergeant."
"Didn't realize I was giving you an after-action report, Legate."
She glared at him. "You didn't feel it necessary to inform me that you were supposedly the one to kill the werebear."
Percy arched a brow at the specific phrasing. "It didn't seem necessary."
"I disagree," said Rikke, drawing her blade. Percy did the same. "Among Werewolves, Vampires, and Giants, Werebears are among the most dangerous creatures that roam this gods-forsaken country." She began walking in a slow circle, and Percy mirrored her. "Forgive me if I find it hard to believe that a single sergeant from this backwater was able to not only hold his own, but kill, one of those creatures."
"Did you consider that was precisely the reason I left that little detail out?"
"I had," she said, "But I also considered that maybe you had simply been bragging and crafting tall tales. It wouldn't be the first time a Legionnaire boasted about accomplishments that weren't his."
Percy's hand twitched. "I don't appreciate being called a liar."
Rikke ignored the rebuke. "How did you do it?"
"I cut its fucking head off," Percy snapped.
"With what? Magic?"
Percy scoffed, "There's only one Legionnaire in camp capable of using magic, and Junassius can't do much more than boil a cauldron of water."
"So then, how did you kill it?"
"They have these incredible new weapons, they're called swords." He wiggled his blade at her in an exaggerated motion. "They're real sharp and have these pointy ends on 'em. They're really useful, should give 'em a try sometime."
Her lips quirked up into a semblance of a smirk for a moment, but the expression was fleeting. They continued to circle one another. Muscles tensed. Coiled. Both ready to spring into combat at the right moment.
"I asked around the camp. Supposedly, you're the best blade in Helgen. Your lieutenant said that if there was anyone he'd believed to be capable of subduing a Werebear on its own, it would be you."
"Then what's with the blade, Legate?"
She grinned nastily at him. "Because I want to see if you're actually capable of backing up all that talk."
Then, without further warning, she charged at him. Percy sidestepped, bringing his shield up and deflecting her slash away from him. She recovered quickly, repositioning and bringing her weapon back across at him. Percy brought his own blade up and parried the blow with ease. She was strong, but Percy's divine lineage granted him unparalleled strength compared to most. He pivoted around, forcing her momentum to one side as Percy moved across the other. He shot his leg out wrapped his foot around hers, and swept her off her feet.
She was thrown off balance for only a brief moment, but the moment she landed on her back she rolled once more onto her feet in a smooth, practiced motion. Percy disengaged, stepping away to further analyze her. They began circling one another once more. Two apex predators hunting their quarry.
Rikke shot forward again, her sword raised high to slash at his neck, Percy brought his shield up to block the strike, but it was a feint, and the broadside of her shield slammed into his jaw. His head snapped back, stars erupting in front of him, and he felt his jaw dislocate from the force of the blow. He was vaguely aware that Rikke was winding up for another attack, but Percy was quicker. His knee darted out, slamming into her chest-plate. Even through the steel armor, the attack took the breath away from Rikke and she doubled over with a gasp. Taking the opening, Percy returned the favor and slammed his own shield into her temple. Even though she was wearing a helmet, the blow had tremendous force behind it.
Rikke stumbled back, her eyes spinning, dazed. Percy's leg shot out, colliding with her mid-section once more, kicking her hard to the ground. She crumpled, her sword clattering to the forest floor at her side. Stepping forward quickly, Percy kicked the weapon out of her reach and placed the tip of his blade against her throat. Reaching up with his free hand, he put his jaw back into place and growled.
"Yield!"
It took Rikke a few moments to compose herself, her eyes still wide and trying to focus. After a couple of moments, she re-found her faculties and nodded.
"I…yield.." she panted out.
Percy eyed her one last time before nodding. Sheathing his sword, he removed his foot from her chest and extended a hand to her. She didn't hesitate in gripping him around the forearm and allowing Percy to easily pull her to her feet.
"By the divine," she groaned, unclasping her chinstrap and removing her helmet. She ran a finger through her sweat-stained hair and pulled it away, clearly looking for any signs of a wound.
"You hit like a damned troll, you know that?"
Percy chuckled, walking over and retrieving her weapon and handing it back to her.
"Ate my vegetables as a kid,"
"I'm half tempted to guess that you're part giant," Rikke grumbled, rubbing at her temple. Percy was fairly certain that at a minimum, he'd concussed her.
"So, did I pass?"
Rikke, who still hadn't fully recovered blinked at him. "Pardon?"
"This was some kind of a test, right?" Percy asked, gesturing around him, "So did I pass…whatever the hell this was?"
"Oh," blinked Rikke, before nodding, "With flying fucking colors." She sighed, before reaching into a small pouch at her hip and retrieving a small red flask that Percy recognized as a minor potion of healing. She pulled the cork free with her teeth and downed the flask in one gulp. She shuddered, grimacing in distaste.
"Foul," she grumbled, replacing the flask in her pouch. She shuddered briefly as Percy watched in minor fascination as a small glimmer washed over her. Even after five years, Percy still hadn't gotten used to the fact that not only did non-divine magic exist in this world, but was an everyday part of life.
"So…" said Percy, "What the hell was all of that about?"
Rikke shrugged, "It's like I said, I wanted to see if you were all talk, or if there was any substance to the rumors." She replaced her helm and glanced at him. "But now I only have more questions." She turned and began leaving the clearing, heading back in the direction of Helgen. She gestured for him to follow and he fell into step beside her.
"Such as?"
"Such as what someone like you is doing in the Legion," Percy looked at her, brow furrowed.
"What do you mean?"
"A man with your talents? I would have thought you'd sign up for the Companions. You'd have made a fortune in only a year."
Percy shrugged, "I'm not a native to Skyrim. Where I come from, there was no Companions. Hell, I didn't even know it existed until a couple of years ago. Besides, I don't think that would be my speed."
"Not interested in making a livable wage?" Snorted Rikke,
"More like I'm not interested in the instability," said Percy. "The Legion puts a roof over my head, grants me three square meals, and I know what I'm going to be doing every single day. I like that. It's comfortable."
Rikke arched an eyebrow, "I think you're conflating comfort with complacency."
"Six of one, half a dozen of another," said Percy dismissively.
"I'd hardly say they're the same thing," scoffed Rikke. "And you do not strike me as someone comfortable with being complacent." She placed a heavy emphasis on the two words, as though to stress to Percy the difference in their meaning.
"And I don't think I'm being complacent," said Percy, some heat creeping into his voice. "Look, the Legion offers me structure. I like that. I don't have to think too much. Don't have to worry about the mundane shit associated with civilian life. I like that. I want that. And it's my life, who's to say what I do or do not want but me?"
Rikke must have understood that she might had pressed a little too much, because she fell silent. They continued that way for some time, the air between them thick and uncomfortable. Rikke was the one to finally break the silence.
"I'm going to recommend that you're transferred out of Helgen,"
Percy turned and looked at her, "Why?" He asked, doing his best to keep his voice calm.
"Your abilities are being wasted here. Helgen is one of our most strategically important assets, but someone with your abilities is wasting away here. Killing monsters and hunting down groups of bandits?" She scoffed, "You would be far more useful in a combat unit. I'm not going to bother prying more into why you're here, but I know your type. Seen them all my career. You're only here as a distraction. Well, nothing is more distracting than combat."
Percy breathed heavily. It was strangely considerate, coming from someone who was essentially a stranger. An olive-branch. Though not one that didn't come with its own benefits to her and her own agenda. She'd be getting a powerful military asset transferred into an active combat unit, while Percy was supposedly given more of what he wanted. Mindless distraction. But it wasn't something Percy wanted. Whether or not he really was being complacent with where he was, he didn't care. He'd made a life for himself here, and he was fine with living in Helgen.
"I appreciate the sentiment, but I'd rather you didn't," he said.
Rikke eyed him, though she didn't necessarily seem surprised. "Any particular reason?"
"I'm not interested in live combat. I've seen enough fighting and bloodshed to last me a lifetime, and I get into enough trouble here as it is. Unless you consider werebears meandering around the walls normal?"
Rikke chuckled, and nodded.
"Besides, if you're looking for an excuse then think about it like this. If Helgen is as strategically important as we both know it is, then all the more reason for me to stay here. A powerful asset to turn away any potential threats. Whether its Stormcloaks or something else entirely."
Rikke frowned, considering his words carefully. "A fair enough argument," she conceded, "Though we both know that it's half-assed."
"Maybe," Percy shrugged, "But even a half-assed argument that's a good argument is a good argument."
She snorted, "You so full of shit," she shook her head, "But fair enough. Your reasons are your own and I'm not in the business of making someone do something they have no wish to do. Regardless of whether or not I could simply order you to do it," She looked at him meaningfully but Percy brushed it off.
"Still, I will respect your wishes, Sergeant." Percy smiled.
"Thank you, Legate."
The rest of trip to Helgen was a silent one.
AN: Thanks again to my boy IDK for being a walking goddamn encyclopedia of knowledge and helping me with his brilliant idea. He's the man and you should check out his stuff 'cause they're all bangers. As always, thanks to my boy Double for being the best Beta of all time. Hit up the link in my bio to join the Emerald Library where I hang out with some of the best authors out there. Thanks again for all the love and support, and I'll see you next week.
Love,
LilDB