The Thane of Solitude

I will never stay within the walls of Solitude, swinging my sword at dummies, pretending that it somehow brings stability to Skyrim. That's what I keep telling myself. But, sir Oscar's words echoed in my mind: "Son, do what feels right, just don't hurt your comrades again. I know it's painful; I have a son out there too." His voice, filled with a father's wisdom and sorrow, pulled me back to reality. This wasn't just about finding Erica anymore. It was about finding them all—my lost colleagues from the real world, and maybe, a piece of myself too.

The wind howled through the dense trees, carrying with it the cold bite of Skyrim's rugged wilderness. I led our small party, each step calculated as we traversed the rough terrain. Solitude's walls felt far away, a distant memory as we ventured deeper into the unknown. The Imperial-controlled holds—Falkreath, Haafingar, Hjaalmarch, and The Reach—were our sanctuary for now, safe havens amidst the chaos. Whiterun, central yet neutral, was a delicate balance we dared not disturb.

The path ahead was fraught with danger, but I wasn't alone. My squadron, though small, was reliable. Titus and Aldis, newly recruited Imperial soldiers, had proven themselves despite the doubts others harbored about their potential. They were treasures, rough around the edges, waiting to be refined. Jordis, my housecarl, appointed by Jarl Elisif after I became Thane of Solitude, was a versatile warrior, as deadly with a bow as she was with a sword. And then there was Belrand, a seasoned Spellsword with an independent streak that often clashed with my leadership.

Jordis, with her tall and strong frame, moved with a grace that belied the toughness etched into her features. Her piercing blue eyes, still clouded with fatigue, scanned the surroundings with a warrior's vigilance. Blonde hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders, a stark contrast to the battle-hardened expression she often wore. Yet, in quieter moments, there was a kindness in her, a softness that surfaced when least expected.

Titus, a large man whose physique was almost intimidating, often slouched as if unsure of his own strength. His size might have suggested brute force, but there was a gentleness in his nature, a hesitance that I was helping him overcome. Aldis, smaller and wiry, was quick both in body and mind. His dark hair framed a face that always seemed to be assessing, calculating the next move. His quiet nature hid a sharp intelligence that had become invaluable in battles.

As night fell and the campfire crackled, the team settled in for some much-needed rest. I took it upon myself to prepare a warm meal, the act of cooking a small comfort amidst the chaos. Jordis stirred from her sleep, her eyes still heavy with exhaustion.

"My Thane, what are you doing? You should be resting. Leave the cooking to me," she offered, her voice tinged with concern.

I smiled, unable to resist teasing her. "Do you know how to cook, though?"

She hesitated, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I… well, no," she admitted, a hint of vulnerability breaking through her tough exterior.

"Then come here," I said, gesturing for her to join me. "Let me teach you. Next time, you'll be the one cooking."

As I guided her through the steps, I noticed Titus slouching even more than usual, his eyes heavy with fatigue. "Hey, Titus," I called out, walking over to him. "Why don't you get some rest? Jordis is awake now; she can take over your watch."

"But sir—" he began, but I cut him off with a playful gesture.

"Hep-hep-hep! What did I say about the honorifics?" I reminded him.

He stammered, struggling to find the right words. "J-J-Jay… argh! This is so hard. You're our Thane! How can we talk so casually to you?"

I clapped him on the shoulder, laughing softly. "It takes practice. We're a team, Titus. Equals. We do what's logical and safe for everyone."

As Titus finally drifted off to sleep beside Aldis, I scanned the campsite and realized Belrand was nowhere to be seen. I sighed, rubbing my temples. Belrand was the one team member I couldn't control yet. Perhaps it was his age, or maybe he simply didn't like taking orders from someone younger.

"How many times do I have to tell him to at least let someone come with—"

"Ahhh!" A cry echoed through the night, unmistakably Belrand's voice. Aldis shot to his feet, and Titus, despite his fatigue, was up in an instant. Jordis dropped the ladle she was holding, and in perfect sync, we all reached for our weapons.

"Everyone, follow me! Let me take the vanguard. Titus, Aldis, stay right behind me. Use your Restoration and Alteration spells to support. Jordis, cover us with your archery," I ordered, my heart pounding with adrenaline.

We moved as one, our training and instincts kicking in. The night air was thick with tension as we raced toward the source of Belrand's scream, hoping that rebellious drunkard was okay. But in Skyrim, hope was often a luxury we couldn't afford.