Skyrim
The Wheel Turns Anew
Chapter 1: The Jewelled Throne and Crown of Storms
Morndas, 17th of Last Seed, 4th Era 205
The carriage rocked slightly as it came to a stop at the base of the hill. Under the cloth cover, two men nodded to each other and then their respective retinues before disembarking. Guards from Whiterun with their yellow cloaks that flowed over their backs guarded the first man, Jarl Balgruuf the Greater, as he made way alongside his Housecarl Ireleth for the other man and his group. Clad in Nordic Carved Dragon armour; similar in design to the standard Nordic Carved armour but with the iconography of the Dov engraved into the steel, with deep green cloaks draped over their backs and the depiction of a dragon's head breathing fire emblazoned onto the cloth in gold coloured thread; these were the Dragoons, private soldiers of the man who had risen alongside the Whiterun Jarl. This man, next to the exit, was clad in silver plating that shone in the summer sun. Each interlocking piece of armour was designed to look like a dragon scale, making it look like he was clad in the body of a dragon. Flowing down his back was a red cloak with the silver insignia of the Empire of Tamriel, proudly announcing his allegiance. The man helped down a young woman with dark hair and revealing black and red noble's clothes with a hood hung over her face, obscuring most of her features.
"You're really going to wear that?" He asked and brushed the hood lightly with his fingers.
She groaned and pulled the hood down slightly. "Well just because it doesn't burn anymore doesn't mean I have to like it."
He shrugged. "Well, suit yourself."
With their guard detail of three from the Whiterun guard and an equal number of Dragoons, the Jarl and his silvery armoured companion ventured up the hill and past the first gate into the outskirts of Solitude.
"It's been a while since my business took me this far, my friend." Jarl Balgruuf said as the bustle of the outer city. "Watching out for Dragons, restoring the Hold, drinking with your people. You don't get much time as a Jarl to sightsee I'm afraid."
Since the end of the dragon crisis and closing of the civil war, the towns and cities of Skyrim's nine holds have seen an era of renewal. Solitude in particular has seen vast growth, with a number of homes and businesses cropping up on the sloping hill to and around the dockyards of the Capital City. New walls had been erected and stood mighty before all entrants. The gateway to Skyrim now truly earned its name with many ships from within Skyrim and beyond making their way to and from the docks daily.
The man looked out to the seafront and noted many ships, some familiar. "Yeah, it's even more lively today than usual. I even spotted the Queen of Bones and Ysgramor's Shield moored in the bay." He gestured over to two of the larger ships, one littered with bones built in the Colovian design while another took on a more traditional Nordic architecture but was accented with carved ebony decorations that gave it a more significant stature amongst the other ships of its class.
"Free-Winter and Merilis, guess this get together really is as big as we were thinking. Eh I wouldn't worry about them too much, out of all the Jarls, they're some of the best."
"And you don't count yourself with that number?" His friend asked him as they reached the inner city gates.
They were open, however a security checkpoint had been set up for the current events and visitations from the Jarls of the other holds and other important dignitaries. They waited for their turn patiently and passed the time with more discussion.
"If I did, it would be a lie to myself. A Jarl can only do their best for his people, not everyone will agree with your decisions. If I die an old man, warm in my bed with friends and family by my side, then I'll know I've been good. Until then I refuse to entertain such a notion."
"I think he's got a point. Can't exactly call yourself good if the people 'round you want your head." His hooded companion added as they reached the front of the line.
"What's your busin- ah! My apologies Jarl, it's been hectic today and I almost took you for the rabble, no offence intended." The Solitude gate guard addressed him more politely knowing who he was speaking to.
"It's no worry to me, friend. I have my Housecarl and three of my most loyal men accompanying me today." Jarl Balgruuf calmed the guard down.
"Of course, please go right ahead, an escort will meet with you shortly." The guard scribbled quickly into the book he held.
Balgruuf nodded and headed through the open gate arch. The man accompanying him then approached with his retinue. Contrary to Balgruuf's expectations, the gate guard gave him an even wider smile than he had given the Jarl. "Lord Ysmir! It's wonderful to have you back in the city, my Thane. Will your stay be long?"
"I suppose it will depend on how things unfold but I don't plan on leaving right away. But I will be planning on visiting my Castle for a time after my business here is resolved." Ysmir explained without concern. The castle he referred to was Castle Volkihar, once a Vampire stronghold, now a private residence whose lands were granted to him by the Hold as reward for his efforts in Haafingar and to honour his position as Thane. It had taken much effort and resources to restore it to its former glory over the past few years but now stands as Ysmir's seat of power in the east.
"Well it'd be good to head back home and see Mother again. Can't say the same for that creepy portal she refuses to shut."
"True, Valerica still probes the Cairn even after all this time. I just hope we don't end up with an Ideal Master crawling out of it some day." Ysmir said to her with a small chuckle, considering how it hadn't happened already, it would be unlikely without some kind of omen at least. "Anyway, today I have three of my Dragoons accompanying me, alongside Lady Serana."
"Of course my Thane, I'll send a runner to the Palace at once to let them know you're here. In the meantime, an Imperial Officer wishes to see you. Should be right through the gates in the headsman's square. Said he's an old friend."
Ysmir nodded his thanks. "You're doing a good job considering all the traffic. I'll pass along to Falk how well things are going here when I have a chance." He said, walking into the city proper.
"We're grateful as always, Thane!" He heard from behind him as he and his guards strode into the inner ward of the city.
"I'll head to your place. Don't wanna get involved in the Empire's business or those Jarls either. Balgruuf is okay but some of them I don't trust. Just watch yourself, okay?" Serana warned him, her hand held onto his forearm briefly with a squeeze as she looked at him with concern.
"I'll do my best, I don't particularly trust some of them either. You three can go with her, the city is safe enough for me anyway and I have business with the Legion. They might not take too kindly to private soldiers marching around their territory. The Imperials moreso." He returned a smile to her.
"Understood my Lord." They gave fisted salutes against their chest plates and escorted Serana through the main street towards Proudspire Manor.
As he strode into the headsman's square after passing through the main gate, Ysmir quickly spotted a familiar face. He looked somewhat less worse for wear than the last time the two had seen each other. However, he was still happy to see his old comrade in arms doing well. "Hadvar! I guess the Legion isn't short of work if you're here to see me." Ysmir chuckled as he approached the other man.
"My friend, it's been far too long!" The man in Legion plate, a fur mantle resting over his shoulders, clasped Ysmir's arm while the latter returned the gesture.
"I see the past few years have been kind to you. It's almost as if you're younger than when I met you."
"Ha, I wish! But with the war over and Skyrim kinder than she's been in a long time, the only thing I've had to stress about is paperwork. Ah, let's not spend too much time catching up, the Governor wants you at Castle Dour right away." Hadvar grinned as he led the way along Solitude's main street.
The Legate led the way up the stone steps of the forge side castle gateway fortifications, as they walked, they briefly passed through the gated checkpoint guarded by legionaries, a more recent addition to the castle fortifications.
Only after a couple of minutes of walking through the checkpoint and under the archway did the two men reach the courtyard of the castle. "I trust you remember the way. I have more orders to pass out to the men. It's the busiest the city has been in a long time. Hope I at least get to enjoy myself."
Ysmir nodded. "Until we meet again Hadvar." He started walking. The auxiliary guards at the doors to the keep opened them and gave the Imperial salute as he entered.
Inside, the ageing castle had been given new life. More equipped and with an almost completely restructured interior, Castle Dour no longer stood as the crumbling old monument of a long gone Emperor that was repurposed hastily to command Skyrim's Imperial Legion. Now it was a true command centre, restored to glory and staffed by the finest commanders Skyrim had to offer.
Ysmir turned to the left and walked up the stairs. He emerged into a large room, where Legates and their adjutants stood around a great round table covered with a large map of the province. The war room was lively while Ysmir stepped inside, they were all too busy to notice him, except for two.
The first was a Nord woman in sculpted armour with a brass finish. The crest of the Empire emblazoned on her chest plate. From the pauldrons fell a large red cape that also held the image of the Imperial dragon in gold. Her armour was thick and she had a commanding presence as she stood beside the other person who noticed him.
The man was older and of Imperial lineage. His sculpted steel armour was weathered with scratches from battle but the crest of the Empire still shone proudly on the plate that encased his body, a fur mantle draped around his shoulders, a testament to the adjustment to his now permanent position in this tundra province.
"Legate, it's good to see you again." The woman spoke first.
"And you General Rikke. Governor Tullius, I hope you're well."
"Thank you for your concern Legate. It's been an adjustment since the end of the war two years ago, going back to peace in a land torn up by civil conflict wasn't easy. I'd rather focus on fighting our enemies than rebuilding but someone's gotta do it. With your help though, things are moving along smoothly. Which brings us to today. General, proceed with the briefing." Tullius initiated the start of the meeting as the council of Legates quieted down and focused on Rikke's briefing.
"Very well Governor. Today is a celebration to mark the end of the strife that was caused by the civil war. Since the death of Ulfric Stormcloak, we've seen a rapid fall in rebellion against the Empire and the Jarls who govern the holds of Skyrim. However, there were still multiple camps that needed to be stamped out. After a long effort, we've confirmed there to be no more resistance from remnant Stormcloaks. They've either died or gone back to their homes while their camps have been wiped out or abandoned. Which brings us to our next operation. Since the coronation of Emperor Aurelian, our Emperor has been taking great efforts to strengthen the Imperial heartland while leaving governance of the different provinces to the local Legions. Governor Tullius has recently received orders from his Imperial Majesty to hand over the rebellious captives, including the Jarls, to a contingent of his Centurions and a Tribune Officer in order to take them to the Imperial City to face execution for their role in the war."
There was some commotion among the officers. Legate Skulnar of the Falkreath Garrison clenched his fists as he spoke out. "Sir, even if this is the Emperor's order, it's going to reignite the conflict we're finally over. Nords on both sides won't stand for it! For better or worse, they were their Jarls. Can't there be a better way?" He spoke passionately. Even for him who swore himself to the Empire, Nordic pride still remained and this would be a great insult to their people.
The sentiment was shared among the council of Legates as they looked at each other. Many of the Legion had fought side by side during the Great War with the men and women that eventually joined the Stormcloaks, it was not so easy to bow to the new Emperor's order. If Titus Mede II hadn't been assassinated, perhaps such an extreme measure would never have come to pass. Rikke rested her hands on the table. After her performance as commander of the Legion's troops in the war, her promotion to General had brought her to a new battlefield of morals and constant debates among her Legates. It was more stressful than fighting Stormcloaks, especially considering that they were all her brothers at arms, they were bound by their kinship and ideals but often those ideals clashed with orders. It was up to her to find the path forward alongside her men now that she was their commanding officer. "We understand the issue well. The Governor and I have already voiced our objections to such an act, under our authority as advisors on the province because of the risk to stability. But our will is nothing compared to the Emperor's."
Legate Hrollod of the Windhelm garrison folded his arms. "We need an alternative. Exile from Skyrim would be best, but we have nowhere to send them."
Tullius nodded. "We suggested that too. In the Emperor's words, 'If they want to live, throw them out of Tamriel altogether, if they're happy dying, let their bodies decorate the Imperial City.' His answer is as you might expect where it concerns traitors. We've already asked the former Jarls what they'd prefer. All of them agreed to the exile after some debate and convincing from a certain someone. Therefore, the Emperor's escort will only be taking captive Stormcloak soldiers today." He eyed his favoured Legate.
The eyes of the Legates followed as they turned to their peer. He was the pride of Skyrim's Legion. Reverently known among their ranks as the Silver Dragon of the Empire. Having been the deciding factor of the war, the respect they gave him was equal to that of Tullius and Rikke. "We've seen enough of this conflict. Personally, I don't want them to die but they're no good to our efforts if they remain in Skyrim, urging them to take exile to Atmora once the expedition starts in the coming months was the decision I urged them towards. Thankfully they didn't kick off too much."
"I'm sure that you've all heard of the expedition to Atmora being led by the Companions. After making a deal with them to aid in the construction of their ships for the expedition, they agreed to harbour the exiles and include them in their journey. That is the ultimate decision we've come to. The Jarls, any family in our prisons who wish to follow and their loyal servants will be exiled to Atmora, never to set foot on Tamriel again." Tullius said, finally ending the debate on the fate of the Jarls.
The tension in the room dissipated at the Governor's final decision. Exile to the frozen continent was near enough a death sentence should the expedition go awry. Yet even so, it at least gave the former Jarls a chance of survival, unlike the Imperial city, where only the chopping block and a crowd of riled up citizens of the Empire await to watch their heads roll. The jewels upon the ruby throne already glistened with blood from Emperor Aurelian's reign and more would flow in the years to come.
"Now that the gravest of our matters are out of the way, General Rikke, I leave you to hand out the new orders." Tullius told his second and turned his head to Ysmir. "Dragonborn, take a walk with me." He said and Ysmir gave the Imperial Governor a simple nod and followed him out of the war room.
They walked in silence up the tower of Castle Dour and outside onto the battlements. "The Emperor doesn't seem to have any mercy for his enemies."
"The Emperor has a heavy hand but he's no fool. Cyrodiil has been a viper pit since the end of the Third Era. The Imperial City is more dangerous to people like us than anywhere else." Tullius said.
"Honest men you mean."
Tullius laughed bitterly. "From how it looks, it was the Duke of Colovia advised the Emperor to do away with the rebellious Jarls in a show of strength. Fortunately our young Emperor is smart enough to know when to compromise. He agreed to the exile to show his fairness even to foes, though he's anything but delicate about it. Our liege needs to be ruthless if he is to be seen as strong, after an Era of decadence, he is the kind of Emperor we need, even if his methods aren't ideal."
Doubts about the lasting peace grew in Ysmir's mind. "How is the Dominion reacting?"
"Our victory two years ago certainly spoiled their plans for Skyrim and the Empire. Now we have strong leaders they can't push around and an Emperor who you don't want to get on the wrong side of, well they found that out the hard way. They're being docile for now. We have some more respite before our peace with them breaks entirely. But there will come a day…"
As they walk along the wall, they hear raised voices from below and turn their heads to see the imposing armour of the Imperial Centurions, clad from head to toe and wearing full face helmets. Their armour reminiscent of Imperial armour during the days of the Three Banners War, soldiers directly under the new Emperor and not to be underestimated if the rumours are true. They threw a blonde Nord who struggled into the caged prison wagon, he quickly caught Ysmir's eye.
Ralof of Riverwood. When he first met him, they were brothers in bonds. When he had the choice to follow Ralof or Hadvar, he followed the man that risked his life to save the civilians rather than a man whose only intention was to escape. He never encountered him again since that day, ironic now that he sees him once more, only on the outside looking in.
"Friend of yours?" Tullius asked.
Ysmir shook his head. "We shared a carriage briefly one time."
"I've always wondered, why did you join the Legion? Your first impression of my men wasn't the best after all."
Ysmir leaned on the ledge overlooking the castle's courtyard. "Mostly because of Hadvar. He represents the ideal soldier and his values earned my respect. I followed him after he saved a boy from Alduin that day in Helgen. Despite my false accusation, he never saw me as an enemy. After I learned his views as a Nord fighting for the Empire, I understood why and chose to fight for the Empire with my own convictions after I took the time to see the war from all sides. I understand the desperation the Imperial Legion must've had to hurry along with the executions that day, it's in the past now. To me, that day was destined to happen. I bear no ill will anymore." He shook his head.
"I'll have to thank the Legate then. The man is a fine soldier, he's doing well co-ordinating today's security."
Ysmir nodded. "He's come a long way. Now, I know that the Jarls haven't gathered for a Moot just yet. What have you got planned, Governor?" He said and turned to face Tullius.
"I knew you'd figure something was happening behind closed doors. It's about Falkreath. Skyrim is grateful for the restoration of the land that you've contributed to since the end of the war. Without your skills and funding, various settlements would still be ruins and we certainly wouldn't even have half of the forts we do today. Unfortunately as you know, Siddgeir isn't a good Jarl by any stretch and Falkreath is as decrepit as ever."
"He did refuse to allow me to touch his Capital and everywhere else that wasn't Lakeview if it was in his Hold. So much potential if I could only get my hands on it." Ysmir felt the greed in his dragon soul well up for a moment as he imagined it.
"That's the problem. Falkreath holds one of the main passages between Cyrodiil and Skyrim. Helgen is the closest settlement to the border but it remains a bandit infested ruin to this day." Tullius shakes his head. "I can't leave such an important territory to a hedonist like Siddgeir."
Tullius took out a letter and handed it over. On it was the shape of a fox's head stamped in grey ink. A calling card from a certain phantom thief Skyrim had come to know in the midst of the dragon crisis…
"The Gray Fox? What did he give you?" Ysmir was surprised to find Tullius of all people accepting the aid of the elusive master of the Thieves Guild.
"Enough to make a move. I don't like playing this shady game but if the Fox wants to help us get where we need to, let's take the opportunity. Anyway, you should head over to the Palace first. I'll be behind you shortly. Oh, maybe you'll want to change into something more suitable for a party first. You are the guest of honour after all." Tullius said and walked back inside the castle tower.
Ysmir was left alone to his thoughts he walked down to the courtyard and passed the heavily guarded prison wagons holding the captive Stormcloak remnants and locked his gaze with Ralof. Neither of them said anything but they understood silently. History is written by victors, and only for them will the wheel of fate turn.
With Alduin defeated and the dragon crisis over, the wheel continues turning, but only for some; for if you can't bend to the new order, if you try to break your chains and fail, then you will be broken and then the wheel that is your life will turn no more. For Ralof, the wheel that set his fate in motion has ground to a stop, however for Skyrim, Tamriel and all of Nirn, the wheel turns anew.
[TWTA]
As plans were put into motion in Skyrim; south across the Jerral Mountain range, in the heart of the Empire, the Imperial city bustled with life. Activity poured through the abundant Heartland town of Weye into the populous market bridge of Titus Gate, the heavily fortified and most recently built district that spanned across the grand bridge of the Imperial City. It stood as the beacon of prosperity for the Imperial Capital. Thousands of people flooded in and out of the Imperial City daily from this place and even more coin flowed through it. Stores peddled their wares and market stalls were abundant with produce as trade from across Tamriel passed through daily. Criers of the Black Horse Courier stood on the streets, calling out to all that passed to read their latest issue while they exclaimed the newest headlines, stacks of the paper at the ready. It would be here soon enough, that the dead men parade through this grand city would begin.
Inside the heart of the Capital stood the Imperial Palace within the White-Gold Tower. And in the grand room that held the Elder Council, there was the Ruby Throne that stood above all as a symbol of the Emperor's power. Upon it rested a young man of regal splendour. A ruby studded crown of White-Gold forged with the iconography of mighty Akatosh himself, rested atop the young Emperor's brow and his robes were the finest display of tailoring that only one of his standing could wear. His hair was golden and his eyes a crystal clear blue. His features were strong and handsome in a way that many would speculate that his face was crafted by Dibella herself.
Before the dais stood a man of middle age with finely kept dark hair, a perfectly groomed beard and regal clothes of the highest quality that few could afford. He bowed his head reverently. "Your Imperial Majesty, today marks the final end to the troubles in Skyrim."
The Emperor rested his hand on his head. "And the rebels we'll be getting to make an example of?"
"Only the footsoldiers and minor officers. Anyone of importance is already dead or will end up exiled soon enough."
The Emperor waved his hand as if done with the subject. "Gaius, what was the point of threatening to kill those Nord Kings if we weren't going to kill them to begin with? I don't like empty threats." Emperor Aurelian narrowed his eyes at the man.
Gaius cleared his throat and met the gaze of his Emperor with an equally sharp one. "The answer is that our hold over Skyrim must be secured through both fairness and force. If our men can believe that they can sway the heavy-handed Emperor into an act of mercy, then they'll remain loyal to such a considerate monarch, all the while they follow your will without realising the truth of the manipulation. And of course to the more astute, they will gleam that I as your right hand forced such a heavy act, yet their Emperor in all his wisdom, stayed the fist and granted them a merciful chance to live, for whatever it's worth. As a young Emperor, such acts will strengthen your rule and lend credence to your supremacy as master of the continent."
"And the rank and file traitors to my Empire are my compensation for such mercy?" Aurelian mused as his fingers traced the armrests of the Ruby Throne, though his face was twisted into a sinister grin, it came from anger at being deprived a larger bounty rather than sadistic anticipation from the slaughter to come.
"We need some of those traitors to die for us. It's the only way to satiate your people's needs."
Aurelian laughed and clapped his hands a couple of times. "The people want to see traitors die almost as much as I do. Make preparations in the Imperial Prison, and contact the Arena to arrange a show. I'll let this world know what happens to those who defy the Empire."
Gaius bowed deeply. "As you decree, my Emperor."
[TWTA]
Time always moves forward and everything changes eventually. With the end of the war, the Jarls of the Holds had time to tend to their land, rebuilding, fortifying and improving their lands over the two years since the end of the war. Those who became Jarls through liberation of the Holds were found to be far more competent than their predecessors, though work to heal the wounds of war was in abundance through the following years. Now the Blue Palace was only recognisable by the shell of the building, the interior had been completely renovated to truly represent the court of Skyrim's capital city. Much of it had been closed off during the war, now it stood restored to its former glory.
Ysmir walked into the entrance hall of the Palace, met not with the old dividing wall, but the open air circular architecture inspired by ancient nord designs. Though two of the openings at ground level were sealed with wood frames and iron grating to add a subtler artistic tone, it still came off as impressive as he walked through the doorway and past the entrance guard, who was clad in the steel plate and finery of Solitude's guardians.
The floors were of smooth tile and covered in rugs dyed in the most exquisite red, accompanied by the drapes hanging abundantly from almost every surface. To his right stood the Palagius wing, once haunted, now free from its curse. It held an iron gate before the connecting hall, making it the most secure wing of the Palace and where dignitaries stayed, now that it had been restored to its former glory. A pair of stairs extended after the gate, ascending to the higher level of the palace, while an Imperial bard played a popular nedic instrument he had come to know was a harp to some guests on his left.
As Ysmir ascended the stairs, he looked up at the dome, with the sunlight pouring in from the windows just beneath it. A fresco now painted on the dome depicted the main events around the dragon crisis in tribute to him. Though it came off as a little much in his eyes. He could hear the voices from the stairs as he ascended and entered the court of Jarl Elisif.
All of the Jarls had gathered, all but the aforementioned Siddgeir. On her throne that now stood in the centre of the room, an impressive pillar backing it as it raised her up above others upon her dais. She smiled as her eyes focused on the man entering. Ysmir was clad in his finest raiment, heeding Tulllius' advice, having visited home prior to change. The court didn't just look bigger, the size of the room itself had been expanded, now accommodating doors to a master bedroom for its ruler that stood at the back of the room behind the throne. Many more facilities had been added or restored since the end of the war and it had been some time since Ysmir had seen it. The place looked so grand, clearly Elisif wouldn't just end it with what he's seen so far. It would likely become even more opulent in time.
"My friend, you've finally arrived." Balgruuf put an arm around Ysmir and led him further into the court. He grabbed a silver goblet and handed it over to the Dragonborn. "Have a drink. We're still waiting on Tullius and the boy." He adds a tone of disdain as he mentions the absent Jarl.
"How have things been?" Ysmir said as he took a look around the court. Jarl Kraldar of Winterhold seemed to be engaged in a deep discussion with the Palace's court mage, Sybille Stentor. The status of magic in Skyrim had also made steady progress since the Storm of Magnus was quelled by the College's current Archmage. Though Ysmir didn't dwell on the thought too much and turned his attention to Jarl Brina Merilis of Dawnstar. She sat drinking quietly and chatted to her guards.
"Ah, Merilis. She and Black-Briar had an argument before you came in, now they're on opposite sides of the room while Igmund tries to calm down that she-wolf." Balgruuf explained quietly. "Sounds like a deal fell through."
The two of them saw Jarls Brunfwulf and Idgrod of Windhelm and Morthal respectively, speaking calmly with each other. The conversation barely reached their ears and was quite civil as they discussed territorial management. "They've been talking non-stop since this party started. Brunwulf has a good head on his shoulders, exactly the kind of Jarl Windhelm needs after the troubles. As for Elisif, you my friend seem to be all she's looked at since you've arrived." He said with a laugh and pat Ysmir on the back. At that remark, Ysmir drank a mouthful of the mead from the goblet. "Aiming to be High King already? I'm not surprised, you must have no end to the line of women after you. You should hear the things the lasses say about you in the Bannered Mare." He laughed again.
He shook his head. Ysmir wanted to protest but it would certainly be a lie. Saving the world and becoming a folk hero, it was only natural for his effort to result in fame and inevitably infatuation from the opposite sex, whether he liked it or not. And in some cases, the eyes of the same sex too... Ysmir shrugged, he wanted to forget such facts quickly. "You have me there." He was also well aware of Elisif's gaze that never left him.
It didn't take long for Tullius to arrive, however what caught the Jarls by surprise were the Auxiliaries of the Legion that followed behind him as they dragged Jarl Siddgeir of Falkreath along by his arms into the court. He struggled and yelled with all his might; though considering that amounted to naught, he was helpless in the grip of the trained soldiers.
His fellow rulers quickly caught on to what this meant and all gathered around as Siddgeir was dropped to the floor.
He scrambled to get off the floor and to his feet, he got directly into the face of Tullius and scowled."What is the meaning of this!? I am the Jarl of Falkreath you witless General! How dare you treat me like a criminal!" Siddgeir was an out of touch and opportunistic hedonist that the Jarls knew would ruin Falkreath if he kept ruling over it. It was little surprise they found themselves in this moment.
Tullius ignored the slight of the ignorant man as the two legionnaires bound his hands and set him to his knees. An Imperial Tribune ascended the stairs into the court. He walked over to the right where the lecterns that the steward would normally work from stood.
The Jarls gathered around Siddgeir, while Ysmir leaned against a pillar off to the side, his arms folded. Tullius finally addressed the gathering. "Honoured Jarls. It's my great displeasure today to come here and levy accusations against one of your own. Tribune Cassius, if you will read said accusations."
The Tribune opened a scroll. "Jarl Siddgeir, by the Empire's laws, under the authority of Article 53 of the Uriel VII Edicts, you are charged with; thirty six accounts of sponsoring banditry, twelve accounts of illegal human trafficking, one account of conspiracy in the involvement of an assassination of an Imperial official, sixteen accounts of accepting bribes from Stormcloak rebels, And finally no less than forty accounts of aiding the Thalmor in the unsanctioned kidnapping of lawful citizens of the Empire in exchange for payment under the guise of 'arresting possible rebels' without permission from the Imperial Authority or our prior knowledge of such arrests. Governor Tullius brings this man before the esteemed rulers of Skyrim so he may be tried and judged for his actions that have brought harm to Falkreath, Skyrim, The Empire and all of its people. By the rules of the Empire, he shall be judged by his peers under the laws of this land."
As he heard the charges, Ysmir thought the extent of his crimes were a bit absurd even for Siddgeir. Either the Gray Fox had dug up everything the man had ever done, or there were quite a few fabrications courtesy of the master thief.
The Jarls looked down at the man who glared at Tullius. "How dare you accuse me! You're nothing but a soldier, I'm a Jarl and I can do as I please! And if I'm corrupt, what about the others? I'm sure Maven's done more than enough to warrant the chopping block!" His audacity was astounding to Ysmir.
Jarl Maven Black-Briar scoffed. Everyone knew what kind of woman she was. It was an open secret since before she was made Jarl. Nobody with brains and the strength to pose her a threat was foolish enough to say it to her face, for even those assets couldn't save them from her venomous clutches if they earned her ire. Jarl Siddgeir fit neither of those criteria. "Hold your tongue, cur! The difference between you and I is clear as day… I assume that evidence has been collected?" She asked Tullius as she took a breath to calm down.
Jarl Igmund puts a hand on her shoulder. "Let's not get agitated by this undesirable, Maven." She reluctantly relented. He preferred to avoid conflict and do away with the failure of a Jarl quickly than trade insults.
Siddgeir attempted to bite back at Igmund's words, however he soon found a gag in his mouth, courtesy of one of the Auxiliaries. "By the laws of the Empire, the accused has forfeited the right to speak due to his hostility towards his judges." Tribune Cassius said as he walked around the room, handing collected evidence to the Jarls. Ysmir had never heard of such an oppressive law before but it was quite amusing to see the high and mighty Siddgeir looking like that.
They looked over the documents, some of them disgusted, some horrified, others with cold stares at the man, and one who could feign such emotions if it advantaged her. "This is all I need to see." Maven remarked as a cold smile graced her lips.
"How could you do this to your own people!?" Brunwulf was on the verge of ripping Siddgeir's face off, rare for a man who was almost always calm and merciful. For Siddgeir, it seemed the Windhelm Jarl had no mercy to give.
Idgrod shook her head. "I always knew this boy was trouble." The elderly Jarl of Morthal always had a keen eye for the truth beyond the naked eye. Her disappointment in him was no new thing. "Saw it when his mad uncle brought him along to my court for the first time."
Jarl Kraldar was next to voice his judgement on the man. "I've seen many fools in my life, but you are by far one of the greatest. Death would be too good for you, boy." Winterhold was a harsh place at times, but Kraldar knew even his lands would be too good to cast Siddgeir into.
Jarl Brina folded her arms and stared daggers at Siddgeir. "I can't believe that one of us could hold such reckless disregard for everything they're responsible for. You're not fit to be a Jarl, you're not even fit to breathe." In Dawnstar, her people always came first, she couldn't comprehend the thought process that led to Siddgeir's immoral acts, all she could do was condemn the man and pray for his death to come quickly.
Finally, Balgruuf looked the man straight in the eyes. "I hope the Halls of Sovngarde never open to a cowardly man such as you."
As the last to speak, Elisif rose from her throne and approached the accused, exchanging glances with her peers before she nodded. "I think I speak for all the Jarls when I say that this evidence is damning and that we unanimously find you guilty of your crimes." No one raised any objections to her words. "The war has cost us much and we were unstable after its immediate end. With new rulers taking the places of the old, it would be a sincere shame to lose another. But for Skyrim and the Empire, we need to rid ourselves of this man. As the former High Queen, it is my duty to revoke your authority as Jarl of Falkreath, and pass it down to another." She looked over at Ysmir and everyone else's eyes followed.
"Legate step forwards." Governor Tullius said, as if he had expected this outcome all along and Elisif was simply doing as he expected.
Ysmir stepped into the centre of the room, internally sighing as he now saw where all of this was going. No wonder he was the 'guest of honour'. Balgruuf looked at him with a slight smirk. "There's only one fit for the role after all." He said. The choice seemed predetermined if the Jarl of Whiterun's face was anything to go by.
"Kneel." Tullius said as he stood in front of Ysmir and drew his sword. Ysmir complied and Tullius placed the flat of the blade on his shoulder. "Jarls of Skyrim, this man, Ysmir Stormcrown has performed heroic deeds that have saved not all of Skyrim, but Tamriel itself. He has worked tirelessly to restore the nine Holds, defend them from numerous threats and was the integral factor that ended the civil war. For all these deeds, I say there is none more worthy to rule Falkreath. Do any of you object?"
As his short speech ended, no ruler voiced their objections. Each had acknowledged him at some point as Thane of their respective Holds. Even the man on trial had granted him such a right. It was the most natural decision when the only other potential successor to Falkreath was a deranged old man deep into conspiracy. Tullius raised his sword and placed it on the other shoulder. "By the will of the Jarls, by the Authority of his Imperial Majesty and by his name, Aurelian Titus Uriel Mede I; I Tullius, Imperial Governor of Skyrim with all my authority, name you Jarl Ysmir Stormcrown." He lowers his sword and sheaths it. "And by my authority, in honour of the Dragonborn, I rename the land of Falkreath, Dragonhold! It will stand as a testament to Skyrim's rebirth and the end of the rule that has left Falkreath a shadow of its former self." He finished. The Jarls and courtiers present soon broke into applause at such news. The stain on Skyrim that was Falkreath and its ruler would be no more. And a new Hold would take its place.
As the sentence was passed, Siddgeir was dragged off by the two auxiliaries, to be thrown from the city and banished. Ysmir stood there quietly thinking. Tullius had this planned for a long time… Dragonhold… Dovjunaar… Will the people take to it, or is there still pride for their heritage still in their hearts? Only time will tell… I should return to Proudspire as soon as I can. He finally concluded, however as Balgruuf put an arm around his shoulders, he knew it wouldn't be so simple.
"Come! Let us raise a drink to our new fellow Jarl!" He cheered and walked Ysmir over to the nearest servant.
Ysmir caught a passing gaze from Tullius as he walked. It was complex and troubled. A Moot had not yet taken place despite the time since the end of the civil war. It was likely removing Siddgeir was a precursor to it, and Ysmir wondered if the Imperial loyalists placed upon the Nord thrones world remain supportive of Elisif as originally agreed… or if Tullius' aims had shifted now that his prized Legate stood in a position to gain the crown or if others would stake a claim. Only time would tell as the wheel turned to Skyrim and Tamriel's next chapter…
|TWTA|
Hello everyone and thank you for reading this new story! If you're new, welcome, if you're a regular reader of mine, thanks as always! Honestly I've never tried a skyrim/elder scrolls fanfiction before but I hope this goes well. I wrote this when I was in a bit of a writing depression, slowly chipping away at it and since reaching the end it's probably received the most editing I've done for a story.
Anyway, this story is probably going to be a more mature plot overall. Things I wanted to establish from the beginning are that this is a post-game story set 2 or so years after the point where I think the original game would be 100% completed, including DLC. Skyrim has gone through extensive development and post war/dragon crisis reconstruction. If you're familiar with Skyrim mods, I am taking plenty of influence from ones I like, as to build up my ideal image of the world in its full glory and true scale, so you may read some familiar ideas. I won't be limiting myself to just being in Skyrim either with this story and hopefully if everything goes well, there may be other stories that branch from this into its own little narrative universe since I have some ideas, but we'll see. The Dragonborn in this isn't going to be the kind of character that's done everything in the game and rules all the guilds either, I don't think that's realistic or fun since he'd be too powerful, so expect other new characters to be in those spots.
Also, I just want to point out that the cover image is something I put together myself using official images, which I'm quite happy with. The icon of Falkreath is not on there due to the events that happened towards the end of this chapter. Instead, that dragon head in the centre of the wheel will become the banner of Dragonhold, which was taken from ESO's dragon cult icon. I had quite a bit of fun making it all. And Titus Gate was inspired by both a mod I've used in the past for Oblivion and Old London Bridge as a new addition to the city that I think it sorely needs. Anyway, that's all from me and I hope this does well and you'll read the next one.
Next Chapter: Fool's Folly, Dragon's Crowning
Synopsis: With Siddgeir dethroned yet unwilling to accept his fate, the deposed Jarl races back to Falkreath to rally his men to stand with him in defiance of the Empire and the Jarls. But would they follow a Jarl like him who haphazardly retaliates against a power he has no chance of defeating when he's done nothing to inspire their loyalty to date? As Ysmir is appointed Jarl of the newly baptised hold, he wakes to a new day in which the status and weight of his new station are quickly realised. And so, the wheel turns anew…