Chapter 29: Counsel
"Your Highness, if I may, I know it is traditional to bequeath a badge of office when one is Thaned, but I already have a sword. My mothers. The blade-"
"She was Thaned with, of course Lady Lydia. I understand. You still must kneel however." Elisif politely said.
Jon silently huffed. He guessed it was fair play. Him embarrassing her, now she him. Just take the free weapon, or negotiate another reward. He said nothing as Lydia unsheathed her Sky forged steel to hand to Elisif, and then took a knee.
It was open court, and Elisif said while tapping her shoulders with the blade, "For your dedication to my personal protection, and service to Haafingar hold, I name thee Thane, Lady Lydia. Rise my Thane."
Lydia stood back to her full height, and formally took the formally presented sword, Elisif holding it with a certain grace. She stowed it and said, "Thank you, my Jarl. I am honored."
"It is I who holds the honor, of course." Elisif said with a small bow. The court chuckled some at the fiend arrogance.
She then took a couple steps over to Jon's front. She put her hand on her hip and said, "And I imagine you also have a sword."
The court chuckled again as Jon pulled his sword and presented it hilt first, "It is very weighty, your grace, and requires a firm grip."
The court laughed outright, as did Elisif when she reached for the hit. It was the first time perhaps real cheer had been seen in the court of Solitude since…
She cast that memory away, and firmly griped the shaft to the cajoling of her subjects. She had been entertained much by her Torygg, and learned much about entertaining a court. He was so good at politics, and only those happy moments would she dwell on during the proceedings.
Jon kneeled, and she heaved with most of her strength to formally Thane the Dragonborn. Honor for her indeed. She said, "For not once, but twice slaying the Mad Wolf Queen Potema, I Thane thee for the incalculable service you have done Solitude, and indeed all of Nirn."
"And I Thank thee, your grace, I'll put it right next to my other ones." The court laughed again, and Elisif especially. He finished, "The honor is of course, yours."
She doubled over, and the mood matched. It took a couple moments to settle, but it eventually did and she walked to the front of the last warrior in the small line. She cocked her eyebrow, "Will you take a free sword?"
The court rose again, and waited for response from the humble legionnaire from Riverwood. Hadvar quickly responded, "I would, my Jarl. You would be honored to give it."
The court lost their composure again at the behest of their Jarl. Jon chuckled while eyeing the woman, learning more as she moved and spoke. Without even really trying she could command the very mood of a room, with almost magical talent. Her very presence willed those around her to empathy. For herself or others. She simply needed a presence to call her own, one to use as a tool to command with. In Skyrim that usually meant warrior skills and feats. He still had yet to drop on his Lady that he preferred she stay with the Jarl.
She took a deep breath, a wise smile on her face as she looked over her subjects. Happy subjects, she saw for the first time in a while. She said, "I debated whether or not this be a sword I wanted to give. It comes from my Torygg's armory."
A dour mood sank again in the room. She turned her head to the other end of the line and said, "Lady Lydia, I suspected you would only carry your mother's steel. I know none of you are truly beholden to Solitude, simply heroes of it. And you, Thane Jon, already have one."
Most eyebrows in the room went up, and some whispering took place. Elisif motioned, and not a moment later her attendant Eren brought forth a weapon in it's scabbard, held on a fine cloth stretched between his hands. She firmly gripped with both hands on the hilt, and pulled it forth, holding it up for all to see in a way she hadn't held Jon's sword. The crowd held back a cheer, but was enamored all the same at the straight blade, made of Dragon bone and framed in ebony. It was a near perfect replica of the now enchanted piece on his hip. A symbol of Whiterun more than anything else.
Elisif bought it back down to a more comfortable rest and said, "I debated much, but a sword, any, even this one, is only a tool. A tool must have hands to use it, and I know my Torygg would put this tool in hands that would use it to defend Skyrim in the uncertain times we face. Kneel, Captain Hadvar of Riverwood."
Hadvar went from full attention to a full kneel in a fraction of a blink. She Thaned him formally in the southern practice. How the northerners didn't come up with using a weapon to do it, she didn't know. A mug of mead and a drunken slur was all northerners historically needed for it.
She said, "Rise Thane Hadvar of Riverwood."
He did as commanded, but Elisif had a few more words before formally presenting his badge of title. She continued, "It was his family's darkest secret, actually. That they stole an artifact such as this on a drunken tear throughout all of Skyrim, near the end of the first age. His telling recounted that it was still warm from forging even, that it took almost to the end of the next age to truly cool."
The court chuckled. That was only a dark secret in technicality. Drunkenly stealing something such as that is assuredly a private boast for even men and maidens of honor. Getting something like that drunkenly stolen from under you was privately an acceptable way to lose something. Don't leave a sword such as that in reach of drunkards, even noble ones, if you didn't want it taken. Especially after so many years had passed.
"I was how I knew he loved me. And that I loved my Torygg, that he would share a secret such as this. A work of art such as this...What was once stolen fairly, is now fairly returned to Whiterun. I am truly honored to present it to you, Thane Hadvar of Riverwood."
Thane Hadvar slowly took the piece from her, and she stepped back some so he could carry out the formal reply. Hadvar held his new Dragon bone blade up in a Skyrim salute and said, "And I am truly honored to receive it. Thank you, my Queen."
The room was riled again, chanting, "Queen! Queen! Queen!"
Elisif basked for a moment in the cheering. She could almost kiss that man for what he did. She certainly didn't want to attain her title as she would, over her Torygg's corpse, but the title and its power were hers by right. It would not be said that Elisif the Fair simply yielded claim to a dishonorable murderer. She knew returning that sword as she did would get back to Bulgruuf. It would be something he would recognize, perhaps respect. If he could win His support, she would win most others. That's if he didn't throw his own name in the moot; He certainly had his own claim to it though right of deeds.
He wouldn't want that in Whiterun, she mused for a moment more as mead already began getting passed without her order, nor needing it. No one wanted to be the capital of Skyrim. No one wanted to leave their holds passed down though generations to rule in Solitude, the purpose built capital of the kingdom. That's why they elected a statesmen from the pretender Imperial city, in the mammoth ass end of nowhere as far as the rest of Skyrim was concerned. If that brute was intelligent, he would understand what he was hoisting upon himself to run a kingdom somewhere other than into the dirt, ice, and snow. He wouldn't have done what he did. He would have just talked to Torygg.
She smiled. He would suffer, and so would his banners under his foolishness and lack of foresight. She had her own eyes, ears, whispers. Already Imperial infrastructure was failing, roads in particular in the harsher North Eastern regions, and his kingdom would crumble with them, ripe for her taking. The dragons stalemating the conflict was almost a blessing. Now she just had to get the Empire, Tullius in particular, to take her seriously.
"Meats and cheeses!" She finally called forth over the court.
"Meats and cheeses!" The court replied, something they had no doubt done before. First the mead flowed, much wine as well in the Solitude court, and now the food would be brought to pair. Jon didn't know what swill they were handing out, but he was a Honningbrew man from his native Whiterun.
It was where he was welcomed first, Thaned first. He would settle somewhere when the crisis and the next great war were though. An estate perhapse he would certainly afford it. He would build a home and hearth-fire with his own two hands. He would even farm, making a premium for high quality alchemal ingredients. He would deal drugs when he got his hands on some hemp. Perhaps he could negotiate that iron mine from the Jarl of Falkreath as an award; Deal arms on the side.
Lydia of course would be with him the entire time. She had a mug in her hand, and the Daedric bottle in the other. Jon had found a mug in his hand, and he didn't recollect it being placed there. Someone had handed it to him.
"You are lost in though, my Thane." Lydia said as she tipped a swig into his mead mug. Jon stirred it some with a shake and tipped it back. It was even Honningbrew. Sam most likely was around and plying his own tricks. To see if he even could no doubt. Well he just did.
He said, "Indeed, Lady Housecarl. I am building our life after these current trials."
Lydia smirked, "And does your Lady Housecarl get a say in this life, Thane?"
The way she subtly spit. He said, "I am sure you will not mind what I have planned for the future of our humble house."
"A humble house of Dragons, and Dragon slayers."
"Enamored by dreams of romantic fantasy again, my Lady Housecarl?"
"You know I am, my Thane."
They had just latched their off hands together when Jon grimaced. Lydia caught it immediately. He said, "You are not going to like what I have to ask of you."
Lydia then grimaced, and then squinted behind her hood. An attempt to divine her sword's thoughts. She said, "You wish for me to stay in solitude."
"To train a warrior queen, yes. Skyrim will need martial leader in the coming times. I doubt Bulgruuf will want that for himself after everything he's already done. I suspect he already supported Elisif." Jon said.
"I have heard words about Ulfric refusing a Moot on my watches. I suspect you are right."
"He thinks the title is his by right. So there's no reason to hold one." Elisif said, obviously being aware of the more quiet conversation. Jon smirked. Certain people had preternatural talents for things. The most common being in stealth. The Queen of the Solitude court could of course detect gossip from a mile away.
Lydia looked bashful and said, "My apologies-"
Elisif waved her off, "Not required my Thane. I'm sure many important matters of the hold are being discussed, and now I am here to continue the discussion."
"You would win." Jon replied.
"Yes. That is the real reason. We couldn't vote for ourselves, and it would stand four against three in my favor. If Bulgruuf supported me. It sound like he does, Lady Thane?"
"I suspect so, Lady Jarl." Lydia chuckled.
"Perhaps he only has remained neutral to wait for the moot. We have not spent much time fulfilling courtly duties, so we can only guess his though." Jon offered.
"Perhaps you are right. The last moot was called to elect Torygg, even though there was no challenge to his claim. He was the rightful heir of his father, King Istlod."
"But the Jarls wanted a Moot anyway." Jon said.
"Aye, Thane. To assert their authority I would suspect. Send a message to the Empire even."
"Things only work with the consent of the governed."
Elisif had a thoughtful eye, "Consent of the governed. I like that. Torygg of course completely supported their decision. He thought it was an excellent opportunity to begin forming long term relationships that would aid him in his rule. He was so good at politics. That's why they supported him anyway. Skyrim has warriors aplenty. Most of the Jarls are warriors. They needed a politician to interface with the Empire. The Empire we founded with Tiber Septim at our side."
Jon smiled at the underhanded invocation, "It sounds like Skyrim was about to form a kind of proto-democracy. Where there was a tradition to attempt to peacefully settle on a new King when there was ambiguity, now they wanted to formalize that process."
"Perhaps to prevent wars of succession that plagued the Moot process in the past. Yes, my Thane. You have honeyed terms. Democracy?"
"Where people vote for their leaders. Common folks. Ideally their vote counts the same as those of higher standing. A proto-democracy is the lords voting for another lord to lead the realm. If you swore on a document formalizing the Moot process you would have a constitutional-monarchy no matter who did the voting. The document is the constitution."
There were stars in Elisif's eyes, the concepts she could use to define her rule. Jon then had to sour her mood, at least not immediately. He said, "Your grace, may we speak privately?"
Her eyebrow rose subtly after her musings were interrupted, but then said, "Of course my Thanes. This way. I know you are unfamiliar with the Blue palace. We have a privacy deck near by with a beautiful view of the fjords and sea."
She turned easily and took to the door out to the deck set into thick stone wall. It wasn't too large, and certainly for more private conversations away, but close still to court. There was even a small table for four but set only for two to take their food together.
She swung around and then eyed the couple before saying, "So, I did not expect this so soon after we met. Barely a proper drink I might add."
Lydia and Jon both fought to contain themselves. He said, "Do we have that look Lady Housecarl?"
"Apparently." She stated.
Jon sighed, "Yes, and I'm sure the Tutor would agree."
Lydia smirked and tapped her sword on the arm, a light tap for a demi-goddess. Elisif put her hand over her mouth to hide a small laugh, and then quickly took a swig from her mug. It had proper Alto in it, but the mug held so much more than a typical flute, this was Skyrim besides, and it was her Torygg's mug as well. She savored the honey on every sip.
After a moment of revelry Jon said, "Do you trust us, your-"
She scoffed, "Elisif, please. So this isn't a joke?"
Jon grimaced, "Fortunately, or unfortunately, no. What I'm about to tell you will be hard to hear, and just as hard perhaps to believe. Maybe sit, Elisif."
She eyed them both, and then slowly took her seat at the table. Jon took the seat just next to her, but not at the other set seat. Lydia when to the stone railing and leaned out into the falling Skyrim dusk to enjoy the sight to the East. She could just make out the lights of Dragonsreach, sometimes a bird that passes in front of them. Elisif said, "Okay, so what is this really about, my Thane?"
Jon took a breath in and let it out as he said, "I got word of High-King Torygg. From Sovngarde.
A couple moment's of silence rang as Elisif's expression went further and further down. Her hand met her mouth to hide a forming sob this time, and then she centered herself with a deep pull from her mug. She was about to slam in down to the table, and then remembered her manners, and all the mead splashed on her from Torygg doing the same. She wouldn't waste good wine, nor get a refill any sooner than she had to, which would now be soon anyway.
The mug gently tapped the table top. Elisif blankly said, "If you were not known as you are I would call you a liar, and strip the title I have just given you. I had to catch up on word about you after you showed up in my court. One of the dragon-slaying Thanes of Whiterun. Apparent mediator of disputes. Slayer of the Butcher of Windhelm. Hero of Winterhold besides Thane and Arch-Mage. I even heard a pretty song."
"Voice wielding power of the ancient Nord art." Jon echoed.
"Believe, believe the Dragonborn comes. If only he had come sooner to shout down the usurper of the Thu'um before he murdered my Torygg...Oblivion, I am so sorry. I should not have said that." Elisif took another deep swig, almost needing that refill.
Jon shrugged it off, "You have every right to say it. I take no offense."
"Will you? Will you shout down that abuser of our sacred arts?"
Jon imagined a million different ways the future could turn out. He wanted to certainly, but the Thalmor threat was gnawing on his mind. He took Tullius's gut feeling at face value. The Thalmor were stockpiling strategic arms, of course they were. Unfortunately now that he considered the issue more thoroughly, Ulfric just knowing Unrelenting Force was a strategic resource.
He said, "I can't make you a promise. I would be a lair, I'm sorry. I can assure you he is no friend of mine despite what he may think."
"And why," Elisif angerly said, "Why can't the honorable hero make that promise to his Queen?"
Jon huffed in defense, dragon's-breath falling to the table. He mentally took no offense, but instinct drove the reaction. He had already spoken. Elisif recoiled back some, not understanding what she was seeing but getting the point all the same.
Jon said, "My apologies. Because of information I have gathered about threats facing the hold, kingdom, the whole damn world. I can't, make, that, promise. Perhaps a week ago I would have. Perhaps yesterday I would have. But not now."
She took a deep breath, not having a choice in accepting it. Elisif said, "What word of Torygg. And how?"
"I brought a man back to life. My Lady helped. He told me of a conversation he had with another soul in Sovngarde before we did. There is a mist there, corruption from Alduin."
She looked like she was about to break, and Jon held a hand up to placate her. He continued, "There is also shelter from it. A cave of some sort. Torygg is the High-King of it. That is all I know however."
She drained the last of her mug, now needing that refill desperately but not wanting to appear uncouth and a wreck at her own party. The first one since...The Dragonborn's words didn't help much, but she smiled at them all the same.
She said, "Like one of his funny stories, or jokes he would play. Of course my Torygg skeevered his way into being king of a cave in Sovngarde. He was so good at politics…"
Jon knocked his own back, finishing it. He said, "My Lady, your turn."
She eyed back to the table while taking her own drink, "Mine? This was your idea."
"And you agreed to it, my love." Jon said as he got up and offered the chair.
Lydia promptly took it, and Jon assumed her former position. Power was working his various enchantments, and he hoped the magika fields jammed whatever scrying the Thalmor were doing, or whatever devices they had planted. Concepts of electronic warfare were new even to him, the battlefield only having enough electronics to commit war against just before the start of the Wars, but not unknown like it would be to medieval fascist Elves.
Lydia got to the point, "My Thane has asked me to stay, and attend you at court; To train you in the arts of battle."
Jon added, "Skyrim will need a warrior leader in the coming times. It needs one now. If you are not willing to recognize that fact and commit to it, then you have no business putting your name up for a Moot, nor thinking you have right to title simply by marriage. You should be leading Skyrim against the Dragons, not Balgruuf; Though admittedly luck, timing, and location was all that placed him in that situation to begin with."
Elisif's eye twitched, and then she began to sob in earnest. Lydia shot an angry look back at him, and he simply shrugged in place. Battle, conversation, it made no difference. He may as well have shouted Elisif down, sent her to Sovngarde to be with her Torygg, but it needed said because he believe it to be true. She needed to hear it, even if she did not want to. He was only carrying out his duties to the hold as Thane of it.
Elisif did her best to put herself back together while still giving the matter thought. The words were harsh, but she could not deny the truth of them, nor the truth she had already experienced as a Jarl under Imperial occupation. She always tried to think of what her Torygg would do, but it didn't help as it only put her in the situation she was in.
She said, "I know. I know. I am no master of battle, and I feel I have only paid for it. Perhaps Tullius will take me seriously if I receive training?"
"He doesn't?" Lydia asked, almost spitting.
She shook her head, "No. Torygg was so young for a High-King, but he had good sense and always listened to those more experienced. I have tried the same, but have no sense. As Jarl, I have practically lost command of my own guard and city. Only my personal host here at the Blue Palace can not be ordered by the Legion. They would never follow them, at least."
"You must press him." Jon said.
"I've tried, my Thane." Elisif spit back. He was so close to having his titled stripped, "But he will not even answer my summons anymore I've sent so many. I get a reply that the city is under legion occupation, and they are not to be impeded under order of the Emperor."
"Then go to him. Let him try to remove the Jarl of the hold, Queen by right, by force."
"And then what would I do? Ask him to explain his orders to My guard as I've tried to do several times?"
"Yes, only in his office. Stand over his shoulder directly if you must. Watch him, countermand him when your gut runs the other way. Remind him that in civilized societies the military is answerable to civilian leadership, you the civilian leader being occupied. He will inevitably say he answers only to the Emperor, and you will reply the Emperor answers to You, per being one his few loyal subjects remaining."
She breathed in shakily, her eyes were red, but no longer leaking. She said, "Consent. of the governed."
"It's what the other Jarl's wanted, by your word. To remind the Empire."
"Would you accept me, my Jarl, in your court? I know I have an obligation, technicality, but my sword and I are special cases." Lydia said.
Elisif slowly nodded, "Yes. In fact I would welcome it. You are perhaps the only one I could trust to train me in the arts of battle. Others would be too scared of hurting Elise the fragile."
"My Jarl, I wouldn't-"
Elisif simply shot her a disbelieving look to cut Lydia's words off. She said, "My Thane, I understand what battle takes. I've seen it with my own eyes. I've watched Torygg's training...and him getting ripped apart from the Thu'um. I can not trust anyone else to be properly aggressive. Looking back, Torygg could not either, even if the sacred arts were not abused. My only hope was that Torygg was younger and had more stamina, was faster, could win if only his instructors didn't drop everything every time he got a bruise or a small cur in a spar; Despite even his own insistence! You will train me properly, if you train me at all, Thane Lydia Doom-Driven."
Lydia bowed her head, "By your will, my Jarl."
Elisif sat in silence for a moment more, needing another drink and deciding to take it in the privacy of her quarters. She said, "I need to freshen myself. Thank you for the counsel, my Thanes. The private deck is yours for as long as you wish it. Speak to Erin to have food and drink brought out. A small reward, since you would not take my sword."
The couple chuckled, and Jon said, "Thank you Elisif. Please accept my apologies."
"I do. Thank you for giving them."
Elisif brooked no more conversation and got up to leave. She entered the keep and Jon and Lydia were left alone on the deck. Jon slowly walked over and took the seat across from Lydia. She said, "Did you really-"
"Yes." Jon cut in.
"Seriously?"
"Yes. If she can not handle hard truths she had no business being the leader of a nation about to be in a second great war." Jon felt around softly under the table and found a small device. He quickly crushed it in his fingers, whatever it was. He also hoped his jamming techniques worked. What was he thinking, he was an Augment turned god. Of course it worked, at the risk of being like Them.
Lydia was silent for a moment. She thought of all the terrible things her sword spoke of in the wars he fought, then the Thalmor doing them. Jon almost picked up on her thoughts. He said, "The information I talked about. Tullius said he thought the Thalmor were stockpiling weapons of mass destruction. Things and artifacts of great power. I have no reason not to take that gut feeling at face value."
"Of fucking course they are." Lydia replied.
"Of fucking course they are." Jon repeated. If Elisif wanted to be Queen, she had to be able to lead Skyrim though a potentially apocalyptic war.
After a few moments of silence, their hands reaching out and taking comfort in one and other though them, Jon decided to try something. He wanted to ask the Graybeards if they could teach a shout to his Lady, but she would likely be in Solitude the next he saw them. He thought he might not see her until the very end of the saga, though he didn't know.
He pulled his hand back, and hers away from the table space directly in front of her. He whispered, almost didn't speak and only thought, "fus"
A small bit of power leapt from his lips and onto the wood. It carved out the runes for force in the dragon tongue. He was satisfied and moved on, "ro, dah."
Each word was carved in the wood, small yet still readable. Lydia stared in awe for a moment in understanding as she had already seen it before. She concentrated intently, and after a couple moments, the humble power of the gods flowed into her. She understood the meaning of Force, Balance, and Push. Yet there was still another step. She did not truly understand them, she was not in tune to them.
Without realizing it, Jon had gotten up and then pulled her up into his embrace. He sunk his tongue into hers, and as he did he exhaled power deep into her. Intimately, he intended to pass his understanding of the shout, including what he could about manipulating it. Strands of blue-white power, tinged with sky blue and orange washed over her as the transaction was completed, and the kiss savored.
They broke for a moment and stared deep into the others eyes. Lydia with her pale blue accented by Draconic slits, Jon with his heterochromiatic awash with iris. He said, "Just a whisper, Lady Housecarl. Let me taste your Thu'um."
"fus" Was all she said. A small blue wave passed from her lips to his. His eyes closed and breath hitched as it touched him. They shot open again into her wanting eyes.
She was usually one to get straight to the point. She thanked the Divines her robes covered her modesty has she fingered the seam in her pans to rip the fabric open. She would have them repaired later, but didn't have to leave the deck with her lady hood hanging out.
Jon was aroused fully, flush with blood in his face and head. When his Lady sat back on the sturdy table, seemingly made for such a task, he obliged the opening she had made. His head entered her wet folds, and he would rock back and forth at the pace he knew she liked until it was time to climax. Lydia gripped her sword tightly when he did not remove herself from her to do so, in fact shoving himself deeper for the task.