-Greetings once again, to everyone who's actually tuning in! I only say that because holy crap, I have never seen so many people actually showing up for reading, favoriting, following, and even reviewing a story of mine! Was that really what it took, openly saying feedback was encouraged? If so, I'll need to do this more often! Regardless, thank you so much to everyone who's been giving this endeavor of mine some appreciation! I'll try not to disappoint from here on out!
Anyway, on with the next chapter!-
The woman's legs gave out from beneath her and she started to fall. Luckily, Lydia's own legs moved fast to catch her before she could hit the ground. She held her in her arms, looking down at this... this absolutely crazy woman, who had managed to go above and beyond in surprising her, all within the span of a few hours! The face that looked back up at her held genuine confusion and even fear on it.
"Are you alright?" Lydia asked. The woman's mouth twitched open again. For a moment, Lydia was expecting silence to greet her yet again, however,
"Ah-" The air around them rumbled slightly, causing Lydia to shift her feet in place as she oriented herself. A sound had emerged from her mouth! She had... she'd... said something?
Immediately, the woman's hands snapped up and clamped over her mouth, her eyes wide open in pure terror this time, while her face flushed red. Her eyes darted all around, as if she had forgotten where she was in that moment. Lydia saw this look in her eyes, this exact expression, and she could easily see. This was the look of someone who was... lost. Someone who suddenly did no know where they were in the world, or even who they were. It was as if she had been ripped from one world, and was thrust into another.
The woman's eyes then looked up at her, then down at herself. Her face flushed again as she realized the exact manner in which they were positioned. Fortunately, Lydia picked up on this as well.
"Oh, um..." the housecarl set her back so she was standing straight up on her own feet, "Did... you just... speak?" The woman stared at her, her mouth broke open.
"Eh-" A smaller rumble of air exited her mouth this time, yet the woman still snapped her mouth shut. She was panting and sweating this time, as opposed to her eyes frantically darting everywhere.
"Housecarl Lydia!" Lydia spun around to find a trio of the guardsmen approaching from behind, one of them limping in pain while being supported by wrapping his arm over the shoulder of his fellow, "Housecarl! Are you alright?"
"Yes, I am well, but..." This was... strange, to say the absolute least. How exactly could she place into words precisely what had happened just now? The fighting and slaying of this dragon, it's 'death', this strange woman's involvement, plus on a personal note, the fact that she actually said something! The beginning was always the best place to start, so Lydia composed herself to speak.
"I can't believe it. She's... Dragonborn!"
Words immediately died in her throat, and her eyes shot straight to the limping guardsman, Trond, at his sudden exclamation. In fact, all eyes fell upon him.
"Dragonborn?" Lydia uttered in confusion, sparing a quick look between the woman and then back to the guard, "What are you talking about? Are you delirious from that wound there-?"
"What else could it be?!" Trond insisted, "She slayed the dragon and... absorbed its power! Then she Shouted! You all saw and heard it, just like in the oldest tales, a Dragonborn that slays dragons and steals their powers to Shout as they do!"
"Maybe you're right!" another guardsman chimed in, "I remember when my grandfather would tell me bedtime stories about the Dragonborn! How he-"
"Alright, settle down, all of you!" Irileth cut in, "Let's not get so winded from mindless babble so soon after a fight. I feel we should be more thankful that we not only just survived a dragon, but learned these things can actually be killed! That's the reality of this situation."
"Irileth? You believe in this, don't you?" Trond asked, "Lydia?"
"And especially you, Trond," Irileth said, "Your wound may not be as serious as Hergi's, but you both need to be looked at and treated immediately."
"I-" Trond slumped his head, "Yes, housecarl." With that, Trond, his supporter, and the other guardsmen moved the watchtower to find Hergi. With the men gone, Irileth turned to face the women before her.
"You weren't kidding, were you?" Lydia asked, gazing off to the skeleton of the dragon, "We really did just survive this, didn't we?"
"Yes, it was one of the hairiest fights I've ever been a part of, that we've ever been part of..." Irielth replied. She turned back to the woman, "And as the honorary 'dragon-slayer' as it's been put so elegantly, I'm glad you're on our side." Without hesitation this time, the woman nodded once.
"So what should happen now?" Lydia asked.
"The guardsmen will be escorting Trond and Hergi back to Whiterun. I think I'll go with them," the dark elf said, "You two had better get back yourselves and report this to Jarl Balgruuf. He'll want to know of our massive victory."
"You want to go alone? You're sure?"
"Please, after facing down that scaled bastard, looking after some local guardsmen will seem trivial..." Irileth assured her with a smile.
"Alright then, I guess-"as Lydia was about to turn around, her gaze fell upon the dragon's head, or rather what was beneath the dragon's head: the shattered pieces of her sword, "Oh... no..."
"Lydia? What are-?"
Ignoring her dark elf counterpart, Lydia rushed over to the dragon's skeleton. She dropped down to her knee but after no less than a second was instantly reminded that she was face to face with a deadly creature that almost killed her! True it was no longer flesh and blood, nor possessed it for that matter, but who knows what such a beast was capable of! Looking up, its very empty eye sockets still appeared to bore holes into her, its skeletal jaw almost laying dormant and ready to snap at her again. Lydia nearly recoiled at the thought alone, but she swallowed her fear and reached down for the pieces. There were four of them, hilt included, but she handled them with great care. It wasn't just a weapon... it was 'her' weapon...
"Your sword," she could hear Irileth behind her sigh, "Lydia, you knew this would happen one day; that you'd lose your weapon..."
"I-" Lydia spun around to snap at the dark elf, but stopped when she saw the sincerity on her face, in her eyes, "... I know... I just never thought this day would come..." She felt a hand on her shoulder, but looking up was surprised to find it was not Irileth's, but the other woman! She too held a look of sincere apology on her face. Lydia swallowed, metaphorically swallowing her negative feeling. She reached into the small bag she carried on her hip and pulled out a simple cloth, no longer than the length of her own arm. It would be sufficient enough to wrap up the pieces into a bundle.
Irileth walked back to the tower to join the guardsmen, leaving the two women alone. Both of them spared one last glance at the dragon's skeleton, differing thoughts entering their heads, then turned to make their way back to Whiterun.
The roads of Skyrim held plenty of risk when traveling them. Even before Ulfric Stormcloak had first incited the Civil War, plaguing the land with Stormcloaks and Imperials clashing with each other, travelers still had plenty to fear what this land was home to. Whether it be the native creatures like its wolves, saber-cats, and massive frostbite spiders, to the more humanoid predators like bandits, traversing this land was always a risky venture. It was not a place one would want to find themselves alone in... or out at night... or without a means of defense...
For Lydia, all three of these things applied to her.
Her sword, her beloved sword... it was gone! Snapped to pieces as if it were a chunk of fragile ice! As she walked, she looked down at the pieces in her bundle, holding them carefully as if their edges could still cut through the cloth. Every weapon was to be treated as if they could end a life, as she was taught. Of course, that was when they actually looked the part of 'weapons'. As it was, the sword that she had used throughout her whole life, granted to her ever since she'd first joined the Whiterun guard, lay before her into shattered chunks. As Lydia looked down, each piece reflected an independent image of herself back at her, showing her three different images of her own sad face looking back up at her.
"-ry..."
Lydia's head was slowly drawn up. There was only one place that sound could've come from. There was no disputing it at all. She turned to the woman, who didn't turn away out of shyness this time. She was returning her gaze with one of sincerity.
The many 'firsts' just kept piling up today.
"Did... did you just... say something?" Lydia cautiously asked. The woman's mouth broke open, but like before hesitated from having any sort of noise exit it. This time felt different, however. The woman seemed to stop herself after remembering the last time something did emerge from it. So instead of refusing any sort of response altogether, she brought her lips closer together, and whispered,
"... Y-yesss..." Lydia's gaze was upon this woman yet again. While she was not necessarily displeased with this response, her eyes did narrow.
"That's not... I mean, you're whispering..." The woman's eyes narrowed slightly in return.
"I... can't talk... louder... or I might..." From the way she whispered these words, it didn't sound as if she was struggling against any sort of barriers, but rather out of... fear?
"You've never used that Voice before, have you?" Lydia asked. The woman shook her head.
"No, I-" Thunder cracked so suddenly across the night sky, startling both women. Looking up, both were also in confusion by what they could see, or rather couldn't; the night sky this evening was completely clear and cloudless. It was as if the stars above themselves echoed a thunderous cry upon Nirn!
And it was upon this thunder, that both women heard something else; a familiar voice:
"DOVAHKIIN!"
Finally, the thunder receded, leaving familiar silence throughout the night once again. Lydia and the woman looked straight at each other's faces, confusion greeting both of them.
What was that?
Dragonsreach's massive doors creaked open, and the two women entered. They were cordially greeted by the pair of house-cleaners who were finishing up their nightly cleaning and planning to retire for the evening. Despite this, Lydia could catch the faint anxiety in their faces as they spoke.
"Fianna? Is everything alright?" Lydia asked.
"Housecarl, didn't you hear it?" the cleaner said, "That thundering in the sky! That weren't no lightning I'd ever heard in all my years!"
"The end of days, I tell you-!" the other house-maid said.
"Please, calm yourselves, both of you!" she said, "I assure it is nothing! Perhaps thunder of a distant storm from one of the other provinces being heard here in Skyrim?" The two cleaners complied with silence, "That being said, it's urgent we speak with the Jarl."
"I just saw Jarl Balgruuf retire to his bedchambers," Fianna said, "I don't think-"
"Housecarl Lydia!" A voice from behind announced. All turned to see the Jarl's steward, Proventus Avenicci, standing atop the entry-hall's steps, "You have returned!"
"We have, Proventus," Lydia said, "But has Jarl Balgruuf already retired?"
"Actually, the Jarl is still awake and about," Proventus said, "If you have news to report, he will need to be informed immediately. You'll find him upstairs in the planning room." With nods from both of them, Proventus walked away, and the two women made their way across the massive inner gathering hall of Dragonsreach. They reached the side stairs that would lead them upstairs, but not before catching glimpses of the massive dragon skull that was mounted on the wall above the Jarl's chair. It was almost uncanny how this dragon skull looked identical to the skull of the so-recently slain dragon; as if it was a preserved artifact from the past brought to the present... albeit a rather frightening artifact.
The two reached the top of the stairs and turned to find Jarl Balgruuf, along with his brother Hrongar, standing around their war table opposite them. The two could hear they were speaking of something to each other until they noticed their own approach. Their gazes quickly turned into that of odd reverence.
"Ah, it's good you made it back," the burly Hrongar said, "My brother Balgruuf would speak with you now."
"But, only you two return?" the Jarl asked, "Was the dragon at the watchtower? What happened?"
"My Jarl..." Lydia started, then briefly hesitated; how was she to recount such a tale? So many incredible discoveries and feats had been achieved just this very night! A quick breath, and Lydia began anew, "The rumors were true; a dragon was spotted at the western watchtower. It had nearly destroyed it as well as nearly killed the guardsmen that were posted there."
"All of them?" Hrongar asked.
"Thankfully, no," Lydia replied, "We did find one survivor: Hergi, though his legs were crushed by debris. We managed to get him to safety, but just barely so as the dragon itself had appeared!"
"By the Divines, so it's true," Balgruuf breathed, "Just like out of Father's old stories; where dragons had ruled over the skies of this world... But, what of Irileth? And the other-?"
"My Jarl-" Lydia cut in, then quickly chastised herself mentally for interrupting the Jarl, "You need not worry; we've suffered no further casualties and..." Lydia hesitated, considering what she was about to say. Did 'they' really slay the dragon? Wasn't it this woman that got all the credit? She was the one who dealt the killing blow, after saving her of course...
And what about herself? Her role in the battle was to- well... She unconsciously brushed her hand against the bundle wrap that held the remains of her sword. That's right, it was hardly even a fight for her, having faced a creature capable of destroying her beloved weapon! How could this be properly conveyed to-
"Jarl... Balgruuf..." There it was again. Lydia's head turned again. There was no mistaking it at all; those words had emerged from the woman's mouth! Except this time, it was a soft sound, almost too unbearably quiet to hear, but it was audible enough. Yet another 'first' to add to this night's quickly growing pile.
Balgruuf turned his head as well, "Hmmm? What is it?"
"I... ah, that is..." Lydia could almost swear the woman's eye glanced in her direction for a brief moment as she spoke, "well... 'we' slayed the dragon."
"Truly?" the Jarl breathed, "By Ysmir! That's wonderful news! You've done me and my city a great service, and we are all in your debt-!"
"Wait, that couldn't have been all..." Hrongar said, "Brother, the summoning..."
"The summoning?" Lydia asked with narrowed eyes.
"Didn't you hear the thundering sound when you returned to Whiterun?" Both women's eyes widened.
"Yes, we did!" Lydia said, the woman nodding as well, "But that couldn't have been thunder, could it?"
"That was no mere thunder, housecarl," Hrongar said, "It was the Voice of the Greybeards! They have summoned for the Dragonborn!" Both Lydia and the woman gave different gasps. The Greybeards? Lydia had only heard of them as a group of old men hermits who spoke to no one while possessing some incredible power! And now they've... Lydia's gaze fell back upon the woman, her own face holding unknown, but likely different feelings. What this woman had, and what she had done... was it the same as them?
"I... think..." the woman spoke softly. The Jarl regarded her, until his brother cut in.
"Wait... wait a moment..." Hrongar leaned his head slightly in the woman's direction, "You, woman. Your voice sounds..."
"Huh-?!" the woman recoiled in mild surprise, but the sound she made was slightly louder than those she had made. It was with this that thicker vibrations were felt upon the air following this sound. One hand shot to her mouth this time, but attempting to hide it was futile. The two men's eyes widened.
"There! I could hear it!" Hrongar declared, "She has the Voice! Brother, clearly she is the one the Greybeards have summoned!" Balgruuf's eyes looked back and forth between his brother and the slightly flustered woman. He was silent, at least at first when allowing his brother to speak, but then addressed him.
"Hrongar... Please leave us," he said, "I would speak with her, alone. Both of them, in fact."
"... Very well..." Hrongar said, dissatisfaction present in his voice, "I'll see you in the morning..." And with that, he turned to enter the massive side door that led to the bedchambers.
"Now then... I..." Jarl Balgruuf said, "I suppose... I owe you an apology..."
"My Lord?" Lydia said, struggling to keep the astonishment out of her voice. Jarl Balgruuf admitting himself to guilt was so rare a thing that it almost was unheard of, yet here he was, delivering one to this strange, strange woman...
"When you first arrived in my keep, I had thought it... disrespectful, that you were not openly conversing with me..."
"Jarl..." The woman spoke while keeping its softness in better check, "I didn't... er, that is-"
"Please, it's quite alright," the Jarl cut her off, "As I said, I am apologizing to you. Because now, I can clearly see the reason behind it." He took a moment for a deep breath and said, "You are the Dragonborn the Greybeards were summoning." The woman's eyes widened, with wonder and confusion.
"Dragonborn..." she breathed, "The guards... they said the same thing... what does it mean?"
"Well, according to the old tales, the Dragonborn is said to be uniquely gifted with the Voice; the ability to focus your vital essence into a Thu'um, or a Shout."
"Shout?" Lydia said, looking at the woman, "That was what you did?"
"Aye, and the Greybeards must have heard it," Balgruuf replied, "Which is why if they believe you to be Dragonborn, they would be the ones who could teach you how to use this power you wield."
Lydia broke her gaze from the woman only to close her eyes and shake her head. This woman, this non-talkative woman standing before her, was some kind of hero of old? A dragon-slaying hero with the ability to use their powers as well?!
And she had been saved by her?!
Looking back, the woman had taken a step back, a hand over her chest. She was staring at the floor, eyes darting here and there, unfocused, as if she was in panic.
"I'm... a Dragonborn...?" she whispered, "But... I can't be... Why? I'm no one... special ... I can't even talk."
"Sometimes, people who are the most special come from the most unlikeliest of places," Jarl Balgruuf said, "You, despite not officially living in my city, came to its defense against a dragon itself! Never underestimate how that level of courage can define you."
"I..." the woman struggled not only to keep her voice low, but also to find the right words in general, until she whispered with a sigh, "This Voice... if it's a part of me... maybe I should learn how to use it."
"That's good to hear," Balgruuf said, content with her response, "Now then, what I can tell you about this journey: the Greybeards reside within High Hrothgar, upon the Throat of the World, Skyrim's great mountain."
"That mountain?" Lydia asked. She was familiar with this mountain; any Nord worth their weight knew of the tallest mountain in all of Skyrim. The Throat of the World was aptly named as a mountain that stretched high enough for its tip to pierce the heavens!
"Indeed," the Jarl continued, "They live in peaceful seclusion there, high above the world... oddly... disconnected from the troubles of below..." Jarl Balgruuf seemed to trail off in thought, then shook his head, "But anyway, anyone wishing to make proper pilgrimage to them must climb what's known as the 7,000 Steps." At this mentioning, both women shifted in different, but almost dramatic ways; the woman took a few steps back, while Lydia had backed up and found that her hands were supporting her from off the table behind her.
"7,000?!" the woman breathed, her increased tone accidentally causing rippling vibrations through the air again.
"My Jarl, how do you know this?" Lydia asked as well.
"Why isn't it obvious?" Jarl Balgruuf asked, "I made the pilgrimage once myself, many years ago. Did you know that?"
"N-no, I never did!" Lydia said, dumbfounded. All her life she'd served under Jarl Balgruuf, she had never once known him to step outside his city for anything aside from business and politics.
"It's true, I once trekked along the Path on Skyrim's great mountain..." Balgruuf said, "But even back then, I knew someone like me wasn't even worthy to look upon the faces of the wise Greybeards... thus, I had contented myself to simply walk the path, and know what it was they had to experience..." he looked at the woman again, "But you, the Greybeards have summoned for you personally, and there's no refusing their summons; it is a tremendous honor." The woman regained herself, in her feet, and in her posture. These words of high reverence were beginning to sink in, and her face hardened with resolve.
"How... do I... get there?" she whispered.
"I know that there is a small settlement called Ivarstead, in the Rift, west of Riften," Balgruuf explained, "That was where I remember starting, anyway..."
"Then... that's where I'll go..." the woman said. She started to turn around, but the Jarl's upheld hand stopped her.
"Wait, before you leave, I feel I'm... honor-bound to reward you for all you've done for me and my city, Dragonborn." Jarl Balgruuf re-postured himself, standing with his back straight, his face hardened, and overall projecting his air of authority that all of Whiterun has known him to be able to do with ease, "By my right as Jarl, I name you Thane of Whiterun! It's the greatest title that is within my power to grant."
Balgruuf's declaration is met again with surprise from both women, however both of them show completely different levels of their own. The woman's face more so shows confusion, while Lydia's face betrayed surprise, astonishment, and... disappointment. The Jarl-granted title of Thane was an honor, of the highest degree! She had strove her entire life to achieve such a role, and had nearly beamed when the opportunity first arose from hearing there was room in the Jarl's court for a new one!
And just like that, it passed her by.
"J-Jarl Balgruuf...?" Lydia managed to breathe out.
"A... thane...?" the woman asked.
"I admit, it's an honorary title mainly," Balgruuf said, "But like I said, consider it a gift for the great service you've done for me-"
"It's not fair..." Lydia uttered. The other two glanced in her direction. Lydia's lips twitched, and her eyes were downcast, "My Jarl, you yourself assured me that I would be your Thane someday...!" The Jarl's smile quickly faded, and the woman's look of confusion returned, followed by one of guilt.
"Dragonborn," Balgruuf said, "Would you mind stepping away? I need a moment to speak with Lydia alone." The woman held pleading eyes, looking back and forth between Balgruuf softly expressive face and Lydia hardened one. With a sigh, she walked towards the staircase that led to the lower level and its entry hall, while Balgruuf motioned for Lydia to follow him. The housecarl warrior followed him, all the way around the corner and well out of visual range of where the woman waited.
Satisfied and confident she could neither hear nor see them, Jarl Balgruuf stopped moving.
"Lydia... I understand you being upset, and yes, I did assure you years ago that you would be-"
"Then my Jarl, why?" Lydia demanded, completely forgetting her reservations involved when speaking to her Jarl, "My whole life I dedicated to your service! Becoming your Thane and serving you better was the greatest way I could repay back my debt to you! I've worked for days and days on end for this chance!" She stopped briefly to catch her breath, "So why? Why would you not only deny me this, but pass it on to someone else entirely?!"
"Because Lydia," Balgruuf sternly cut in, "In a sense, I'm not entirely denying you a chance." Lydia's face of frustration fades into one of her own confusion, "Lydia Volrun, I would formally reassign you... to be 'her' personal housecarl." Balgruuf pointed a finger past her and towards the direction the Dragonborn was waiting. Lydia's head turned around to face where he pointed, and she looked back at him, her look of frustration had returned.
"My Jarl... surely you jest..." she said.
"I assure you, this is no jest," Balgruuf placed a comforting hand on the woman's shoulder, "Lydia, I know that you've aspired to become a personal protector, same as Irileth. But I also know you've been longing to see more of the world beyond what and where I simply command you to go."
"What?" Lydia said. Had she really made it 'that' obvious?
"Please Lydia, I'm not stupid," Balgruuf continued, "It's not that hard to see... I can tell, child, you need this, you've wanted this, even. And serving as bodyguard companion for an actual Dragonborn? I would daresay that trumps my own grandeur!"
"Jarl Balgruuf..." Lydia had to admit, Balgruuf's input was sound. As much as she's enjoyed living in Whiterun, serving Jarl Balgruuf as a reliable sword and shield, or even tending to his subjects, Skyrim was a huge land, far bigger than the hold of Whiterun alone...
Mentally speaking of sword and shield brought Lydia's mind, and her hand, back to the bundle wrap, and she frowned. There was still this big issue; her sword. She could feel its edges through the thick cloth against her finger tips. The situation itself was humiliating for her, as would be the actual explanation to the Jarl... But, if he was serious about all this, then it would have to be addressed.
Steeling herself, she gripped the bundle wrap in her hand and held it out before herself, and to Balgruuf.
"But, there is something..." Lydia tried to muster the words, "The truth is... I was next to useless in the fight with the dragon!"
"What do you mean? What is this?" Balgruuf took the bundle from Lydia and placed it on the table. He unwrapped it, revealing the four pieces of the sword Lydia took great pride in wielding.
"My sword..." Lydia said, "That beast broke it like it was nothing!" There it was, she present her case at its most basic form. Should she add anything else to it? Did anything else need to be said? How was Balgruuf going to react? He had his back turned to her so she couldn't quite see his face-
"Is this all?" Lydia blinked. That wasn't what she was expecting to hear. Balgruuf turned to face her again, his face bearing no anger, no disappointment, not any sort of displeasure. He actually seemed... relieved? "Lydia, I'm not blaming you. In fact, I'm actually happy that this was the worst of it!"
"My Jarl?"
"And you can't blame yourself for this either," the man said, "Remember, you were fighting a dragon! How often can one say they not only saw one of these legendary creatures, but actually fought one and lived to tell about it?" Lydia's lips pursed slightly and her eyes narrowed in thought. This was all true.
"As for this? Well..." Balgruuf continued, "Lydia... I believe the time has come."
"The... time?" Lydia asked. Balgruuf simply stepped away from her and towards the wall, where a display case stood against it. He reached into his robe pocket and retrieved a copper key, inserted it into the keyhole, and opened the display. Slowly, he reached in and pulled forth what had been on display: a bastard sword, while held in one hand left just enough room open on the hilt to allow for two hands to be able to grip it. Balgruuf took a moment to stare into the weapon, his own reflection in the sword's blade staring back at him. Finally, he took the sword and placed it into its separate sheath and returned to his housecarl.
Lydia watched with uncertainty at first, then was almost floored by what was happening, and what this would mean for her. There was no way, no way in all the nine holds that this could actually be true!
"Lydia, I would gift this to you," Jarl Balgruuf spoke, though differently from before. Whereas he had spoken to the woman with openly vocal appreciation, this time he spoke with more quiet and reserved respect. Holding the sheathed weapon upon his two hands, he held it forth before Lydia. Her hands unconsciously reached for the blade, until she quickly stopped herself.
"My Jarl..." she shook her head of wonder. This was really happening; Jarl Balgruuf was giving her 'his' sword! The very blade he'd carried with him into battle during the Great War! "This... it's too much! I couldn't possibly accept this."
"Please Lydia, you'd be doing me a great personal service if you did," Balgruuf insisted. Lydia's hands reached back for the sheathed blade. Her fingers wrapped around its width, the sturdy resistance she felt in her grip felt like a hidden strength from an age long past. She suddenly felt his hands over hers, letting her know to look back up at him, "Remember, a blade like this is only as worthy as the one who wields it. You've become a splendid warrior in my eyes, and you will only continue to get stronger." He released his hands, and Lydia brought the sheathed weapon closer to her. Looking closer at it, the sigil for Whiterun's horse could be seen stitched into the cloth near the pommel and handle section. With renewed vigor, she fastened the sheath's holding string to her waist from her armor.
"I promise you, Jarl Balgruuf, I will not let you down!" she said, "I'll prove myself worthy of your weapon!"
"It is 'your' weapon now," Balgruuf reminded her, "I'm more than happy to part with that thing. Still, it's good to hear your strong conviction. I can assume you feel the same about serving 'her' as well?" His subtle point in the direction of where the woman was waiting brought Lydia's mind back to that issue. Being assigned housecarl to... a Dragonborn? While she hadn't ever heard of such a person, title nor individual in the past, she herself 'had' demonstrated qualities of someone to bodyguard. She showed courage, strength, a will to rally to a cause, and was a warrior like her!
As for her speech? Or less than adequate display of it? Well... perhaps that would take getting used to. Lydia nodded her head.
"Yes my Jarl," she said, "If you think this is best, I will guard her and all she owns with my life."
"Excellent, then let's not keep her waiting any longer." Balgruuf and Lydia moved back around the corner back to the open chamber. Thankfully, the woman could still be seen, sitting down at the top of the stairs, appearing to be deep in thought. At the sound of their footsteps, she quickly perked up and pulled herself to her feet.
"I'm... sorry... I didn't, mean to-" she frantically whispered, until Lydia's outstretched hand silenced her.
"Jarl Balgruuf has appointed me to be your housecarl," she said, "It... would be an honor to serve you." The woman calmed herself slightly.
"W-what?" she whispered, "Serve me?"
"That's correct, Dragonborn," Balgruuf answered, "I thought it appropriate to assign Lydia to you. You may be Dragonborn, a hero of song and legend, but you are still one woman, and where ever your journey may take you, I sincerely doubt you can go it alone. Remember: A Nord's strength lies not in that of their own arm..."
"But combined with... their companion's... who has their back." The woman's eyes widened as she finished. She had not heard that old Nordic proverb in years! Her lips pursed into a smile, and she nodded.
"Th-thank you..." she uttered. She looked into Lydia's eyes. No longer did she see the frustration on her face from a moment ago. This time, there was a sense of renewed purpose about her. She also held a slight smile on her face, and her hand could be seen cupping the hilt of a sword- Wait, a new sword? In her mind she began to see: Balgruuf must have given her a new sword to replace the one that she had lost! That was why she was looking much better!
"Before you go, I would grant you something else," Balgruuf reached down to his own belt and drew forth a small sack, the familiar sound of jingling coins caused the two women to perk up, "A more, tangible, token of my personal appreciation." He held the coin sack to the woman, who then took it in her hands. The moment she gripped it, she was amazed by how solid and heavy it felt! There must have been at least one hundred gold coins in it! "That there should be more than enough for a quick night's rest at the Bannered Mare, and maybe even a carriage ride to Ivarstead."
"You... keep doing... so much... for me..." the woman uttered, "How could... I ever-"
"Nonsense," Balgruuf dismissed with a wave of his hand, "Consider that a personal gift, for ensuring Whiterun lives to see another day." At this, the two women nodded their heads in appreciation. Lydia crossed her fist over her chest to salute the Jarl, prompting the woman to hastily do the same.
"My Jarl, the two of us shall be on our way then," Lydia said. Balgruuf himself nodded. The women turned to walk down the stairs, but Balgruuf suddenly remembered something; something admittedly was too important to simply forget!
"Wait!" he suddenly called out, stopping the two in their tracks, "I, ah... I'm embarrassed to admit, but all this time... I never asked you before: What is your name is, Dragonborn?" Lydia blinked as well. Incredible! How had she also gone this entire time not even thinking to ask what this woman's very name was?! And considering she herself had chastised her for lack of speech earlier today? How shameful...
Hopefully the woman would think nothing of that as Lydia turned to face her.
"My... name...?" she whispered, to which Balgruuf, and Lydia, nodded, "I... m-my name... is... Si-... Sif... Sif...fre... Siffre" Jarl Balgruuf's smile returned, and even Lydia sported one as well. Satisfied with the response, Siffre turned and walked down the stairs, Lydia following right behind her.
Jarl Balgruuf returned to standing before the planning table. He would be expecting a more detailed report of the dragon incident from Irileth when she returned. Gods, such a strange prospect; dragons returning to do who knows what to Skyrim? That in itself brought forth another thought: were there more of them? Just how many more out there, waiting to spell doom for its people? Skyrim was already bleeding from this damned Civil War...
Another night would be spent making plans, he supposed. A Dragonborn may have appeared, but he was not about to stand idly by in wait for these terrors. So much to do, so little time.
'Gods be with us,' he thought, 'All of us...'
-One thing I really loved from writing this story? Coming up with a last name for Lydia. The Dragonborn's name I'd already had in mind since that's the of character I always create when starting new games. But Lydia was always without a last name, so I saw fit to give her one, and in keeping with Nord tradition, a variation of an actual Norse figure (the Valkyrie Olrun).
And there we go! Like I said before, thanks to everyone for the recognition you're giving this story! I don't know where all y'all came from, but I'm sure glad you're here! If you're willing to keep sticking around more, I've got quite the adventure planned for Lydia and Siffre!-
