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Chapter LVII: Settling Windhelm Affairs

(Reyvin's POV)

"Thanks." I mutter to the legionary who had just given me a steaming cup of coffee, quickly splashing a bit of stamina potion into the mix I took a gulp, completely ignoring the searing heat of the drink, and sighed in relief.

My peace was, of course, disturbed almost immediately "Oi, brat."

I lazily tilt my head to a Harald who now looked more dead than the undead we were stuck fighting for two whole days "What?"

"You got some more of that?" He points at the potion still in my hand, the rest of those seated at what was once Ulfric's feasting hall all looking at me with disturbing amounts of hunger in their eyes as they too realized what it was.

"Fucking fine." I grumble and snap my fingers, summoning a bunch of potions.

A lot of grateful and satisfied noises filled the great hall then, quickly followed by sounds of eager gulps.

For all my eager destruction of the undead in the Hall of the Dead, the city was just far too big for the crisis to be resolved quickly, which lead to most of us having to remain awake the entire time with only some of us having the time for even a minor nap.

Even I was left tired at the end of it, my usual lack of need to sleep quickly being shunted into non-existence as I had to trudge through the sprawling underground halls housing hundreds of generations of dead Nords.

To make things even worse I couldn't just leave Krosis' ritual where it was for some cooky necromancer to discover decades later, so I had to crawl even deeper below ground to destroy it utterly without activating the dozen or so traps placed within.

Say what you will about the Dragon Priest twat but you have to admit he was one tricky piece of work and meticulous as well, I came close to accidentally reactivating the ritual on three separate occasions and I was probably the greatest enchanter currently alive.

'The audacity!' Scorch fake-gasped.

Rolling my eyes at bird man's shenanigans I looked over those gathered, all of them looking marginally more lively now that they were high on whatever deathweed Hakan mixed into his potions.

At the head of the table sat Torygg, his expression constantly shifting between a frown when people were looking and one of relief when he thought they were not. Falk, the complete madman, dutifully stood behind him even if he looked just about ready to fall over.

Across me, to Torygg's left, were sat Brunwulf Free-Winter, the dutiful old man looking downright distraught due to the things he and his people were forced to experience in the past few days, Skirnir Stormcloak, who bore a grim expression, either waiting for his presumed punishment or just pained by the loss of his father, no matter how much of a cunt the man was.

Next to him sat Tullius, the Imperial's face locked in a state of complete blankness with only the potion stopping him from dropping into a nap then and there, the recently healed scarring from multiple burns all over his body no doubt serving to further the issue. Rikke and Tiberius looked to be comparatively well, content in the fact they were not responsible for making any decisions and abusing that fact to doze off when they thought no one was looking.

Minthara sat to my left, snuggled into a cloak pilfered from Ulfric's chambers and only half present mentally as she was mostly focused on processing the memories of the dragon she nommed on, the word she focused on being that of flesh he used to heal himself.

A pretty wise choice all things considered.

To my right sat the loyal nobility, Harald, Helm, Balgruuf, and Igmund followed by the (to me) unsurprising addition of Ambarys Rendar and an old matronly Argonian going by Sahrnia representing their minorities in the city.

Many other officers and nobles of differing ranks were present as well but their voices would have no weight in the discussions that were to happen once everyone gathered themselves.

"Before we begin." Tullius spoke up only a moment later, his eyes zoning in on me as he did "Why is the dragon still looming atop the palace?"

I let out a light chuckle "He is making sure no one acts uppity while we in turn make sure what is left of the city doesn't collapse on people's heads."

Tullius frowns slightly, his recent experiences with dragons making him instinctually distrustful of them "And you... trust it to keep control?"

Rolling my eyes I wave him off flippantly "Just treat him as you would any of my retainers, he is perfectly capable of being civilized."

He goes to retort, obviously too tired to keep composure, but is cut off by Minthara "Krein is trustworthy, General." And to the surprise of many, the man relents, merely offering a nod to his hidden superior. Some people looked surprised at the reaction but most of the superstitious Nords just took it as the Dragonborn being an authority on dragons.

It was simple but it worked.

"Remember that fog, back when we were going after Volkihar?" I speak up after a moment, earning interested looks from those who were present for that battle "It was him who removed it for us."

"Ah." Tullius' expression brightens slightly "I had thought he was a more... recent addition."

"You are telling me-" Skirnir Stormcloak interrupts suddenly "That you had a bloody dragon for so long and only chose to use it now?" He seems both terrified and relieved by the fact.

I consider the young man for a moment before deciding to elaborate for the benefit of those whose opinion actually mattered "Krein was never meant to participate in a mortal conflict." I pause briefly "He is but one of many preparations I have made for Alduin's return."

"So you have known of his coming?" Brunwulf Free-Winter questions. All of them were briefed about the true source of the dragons and if they were not half-asleep already most would be panicking right about now.

"For years now." I nod.

"And you didn't think to warn us lad?" Harald cuts in, sounding almost hurt.

I give the battle-hungry madman a blank stare, naturally earning no remorse, and speak "Those who needed to know were warned." I give Torygg a nod which he returns "Besides, if I went around and started shouting 'The end is nigh!' people would just look at me like I was an idiot." I add with a shrug.

Sounds of amusement and agreement ring out in response.

"But." I speak a bit louder this time "We have not gathered here to talk about my prophetic ravings." Harald snorts "We are here to talk about the future of this great city."

"What is left of it anyways..." Free-Winter mutters bitterly.

"The fact that there is anything left is already a gift." Minthara cuts him off "Take heart in that at least."

He pauses before straightening his back and nodding at her gratefully "Aye, you are right Dragonborn."

Her eye twitches "The name is Minthara."

He mutters an awkward correction and looks down, properly chastised.

I chuckle and poke her shoulder "Watch the aura." And just as she realizes what she was doing the air in the room becomes much lighter, many of the others letting out breaths they did not realize they were holding.

The short bout of silence that follows is broken by Torygg clearing his throat "Let us begin then." All sense of joviality and laxity disappears as he declares officially "The city of Windhelm, having been liberated from its rebellious Jarl, is in need of new leadership."

He looks to Free-Winter "Brunwulf Free-Winter, you are known to your fellows as a man of duty and honor, and unlike the disgraced Jarl Stormcloak you are known to treat all races fairly. Your aid in organizing the defense against the undead and ability to unite two opposing sides against a greater threat makes my decision all too easy."

Before he can finish Free-Winter stands up "Apologies, High King, but should the lad not be the one to inherit his father's position?" He asks pointing to a now squirming Skirnir.

"The Stormcloak clan has been relieved of all rights and privileges belonging to any rank of nobility by the order of Emperor Titus Mede II" Tullius cuts in, his tone completely flat "Redeemed rebel or not, his right to inherit the hold is non-existent."

"While it could have been phrased a bit more diplomatically" Torygg gives the General a flat look "The good General is right, Skirnir Stormcloak is to be given a pardon for his crimes due to his actions but that is it."

Oddly enough it is Brunwulf who seems more distraught than Skirnir, who simply nods in acceptance "But the Stormcloaks have ruled the city for centuries!" He exclaims in horrified surprise "To remove them for the actions of one man..."

"I understand that you may feel we are breaking tradition." Torygg speaks gently yet firmly "But we cannot be seen as not willing to punish those who would tear our nation apart." He pauses to let that sink in "However." He adds "Seeing as Skirnir has regained his honor and aided in his traitorous father's downfall, we see no reason to forbid the rightful Jarl from granting him and his clan the rank of Thane, should they find it fitting."

Both the Windhelm Nords are left completely stunned, Skirnir muttering out a weak "Just like that?"

"It is the Jarl's right." Torygg shrugs as if that explained everything.

A huff draws everyone back to Free-Winter as he directs a look of newfound respect at his High King "Whoever called you a boy was obviously a fool." His words are met with a round of boisterous 'Aye!-s' "Fine" He accepts reluctantly "I accept. I will be your Jarl."

Harald stands, a mug of mead in his hand "To Brunwulf Free-Winter, Jarl of Windhelm! And to Torygg, the one true High KIng!" 

His toast is echoed throughout the whole hall, a newfound energy filling the chamber as the unofficial declaration of the rebellion's end reached everyone.

"Thank you for that, Harald." Torygg gives his father-in-law a look of pure exasperation "But we are not done just yet." It takes a moment for everyone to quiet down again before he speaks "Seeing as the tensions between the different races living within the city were left to fester for so long my Court Mage and I have found that the current system is not to our satisfaction."

He pauses, looking over everyone's reactions "Therefore" He continues as he realizes no one was going to interrupt "We have decided that two new advisory positions are to be created and aid the Jarl in ruling the city while serving to represent their peoples' interests and present their grievances to the ruler of the city so that they may be solved without further tensions arising."

Brunwulf nods along, seeing no issue with something he himself would have no doubt recommended.

"Ambarys Rendar." The High King addresses the Dunmer "You are known to both the Nords and Dunmer as a man of honor and responsibility, do you accept your post as the representative of all the Dunmer of Windhelm?"

Even if he was previously warned, Ambarys still blanches at the idea "I am just a cornerclub owner, Serjo. Would it not be better to have Lord Dagoth represent my people's interest?"

I give him an amused look, my eyes essentially telling him 'Good try, but no.' "While I am certain the good Jarl would find no issue in cooperating with me on a personal level, having to deal with a foreign Jarl equivalent ruling a massive portion of his capital is not something I believe any ruler would appreciate, much less one who is going to be dealing with tensions from both the Nordic and Dunmeri sides of the equation."

"The honorable Court Mage is right." Brunwulf adds, giving me a grateful look for not trying to press some kind of asinine claim to his city "Besides, we've known each other for decades now, Ambarys." He grins "I know not to try and make you work too much."

Ambarys shakes his head and chuckles "Fine, but only for a few years!" He points at his friend threateningly.

"Make him a Thane and I will donate a hundred construction automatons to your city." I cut in with a malicious grin.

"Done." Free-Winter accepts before Rendar can so much as process my words.

The look he gives me then makes me burst out laughing.

Ah, pretending to be a cunt is all too useful when you want to advance your agenda, got to love the Nords' simplicity.

"If you are quite done?" Torygg asks, even as his own eyes glint with amusement. We all quickly voice our assent and he turns to the only Argonian present "We will of course not forget the other wronged group housed within this city. The Argonians are an important part of its economy no matter how much some may claim otherwise." 

"We have asked around the Assemblage for whom they would wish to represent them and the vast majority have named you specifically miss Sahl... Shar... Sahr..." Torygg trails off awkwardly.

"Sahrnia." The dark scaled Argonian introduces herself with an entertained hiss.

"Right. Miss Sahrnia." Torygg nods, pretending as if he didn't just attempt to butcher her name and desecrate its poor corpse "I take it you accept your position as representative?"

"And what of our rights?" She asks with only slight irritation obvious "Are we still to be treated like filth, not even to be let within the city walls?"

"Of course not!" Torygg immediately exclaims "The Argonians of this fine city shall be granted all rights and responsibilities befitting a citizen of the Empire, the minutiae will be discussed between yourself and the Jarl but there is no need to fear for your futures." He pauses and then adds with a fair bit of amusement "You may also keep your weapons as assurance."

"Thankss." She grins and it does not look pretty "My dear boy went through so many hoops to get them for us."

"Ah yes." I snort "The 'hoops' of me telling him to do it." I look at the disturbingly still grinning lizard-woman "How is Fishy by the way?"

"Still complaining about insane elves with every chance he gets." She lets out an immensely unpleasant gargling noise that I politely chose to translate as a giggle.

"There is one item I wish to discuss before we are all finally able to rest." Torygg speaks once more "Namely what is to be done with the surrendered rebels."

"While my first reaction is to punish them to the full extent of the law, doing so for thousands is near impossible." Tullius voices with some irritation.

"Aye." Balgruuf nods along "The city will need the manpower for the repairs as well."

"No sense in punishing the rabble." Igmund scoffs "Just deal with the leaders and that will be that."

"I have an idea." I raise a hand, seeing Torygg motion for me to proceed I do so "Have the rebel soldiers conscripted into repairing the city, that ought to earn them some good will from their brethren and make it seem like we are not giving them amnesty." My proposal is met with almost universal agreement with some grumbling from the Legion

"The leaders you can punish properly but even the officers are too numerous." I add after a moment.

"What is it that you propose?" Torygg asks slowly.

"Toss them at the dragons." I respond after a dramatic pause, and the gravity of the fact we are now stuck in a conflict much greater than any rebellion slams into everyone's shoulders without even a hint of mercy.

Harald scoffs "And what? Let them have their glorious end as 'punishment'?"

"If you think there is anything glorious about being shouted apart then I have truly overestimated your intelligence." I give him a flat look to which he just scoffs again. Rolling my eyes at the manchild I look to the rest "The dragons aren't going to suddenly disappear again, this was but the first skirmish of the new war we find ourselves in."

"And trust me." I add ominously "They won't care if you were a rebel or loyalist when they decide your home is the next target for their depraved entertainment."

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Dunno about the dragons but my depraved entertainment requires a constant supply of stones.

Something I have no doubts you are more than willing to provide!

or else

Don't mind the necromancers though, those are licensed

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