Act II: Chapter 9

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Rorikstead was, perhaps, the most uanderrepresented town in the games.

It was not a small little town. It was a bustling town, about two industries away from becoming a city. It was obvious that it was a popular trading route for western Skyrim. Technically it was a part of Whiterun hold, but it sat on the border.

Along the main road of the city, there were three different inn's, and a couple of storefronts for the essentials in life. Two master blacksmith's populated the town. One hammered on armor and weapons. The other fashioned nails, chains, and other essential metal tools necessary for life. They had an unspoken agreement not to encroach on the others specialties.

One would assume that the blacksmith dealing in weapons would be busier than the other, with the looming civil war on the horizon. But I watched just as many craftsmen travel into the shop and pick up repaired tools, or new nails, or a new hatchet. There was balance in Rorikstead.

At least before we arrived.

"How long do you plan to be here?" Rorik himself asked me.

He was dressed as a typical nobleman in Skyrim. His fur was fresh off of a bear somewhere, and stitched professionally together. My memories told me he was also a soldier in the Great War. His eyes tightened when he looked up at me on my horse.

I swung a leg off of my steed, and landed on the ground with a thud. My legs screamed at me from riding all day, but with a burst of magicka, my ailments were cured swiftly.

"Has Igmund arrived yet?" I asked the 'mayor' of Rorikstead. His most accurate title would be landowner of this town. He wasn't a dumb man, that much was obvious.

"Jarl Igmund is about a day away." Rorik answered.

As soon as I cleared the hill that would lead me into the town, Rorik stood in the middle of the road, waiting for me. Behind him was a man in steel armor with a sharp sword on his hip, and an even sharper look in his eye. I knew Rorik kept his ear to the ground and paid close attention to the goings on of his town. That's what prompted me to ask the question of the Jarl of Markarth.

I already knew the answer, of course. It was just a small test for the man in front of me.

"When he arrives, assuming he doesn't wish to stay, we will be on our way." I answered Rorik, finally.

Rorik sighed audibly. "Gods be damned! You'll be here a month if Igmund has his way." Rorik said, obviously unhappy. Igmund's reputation was well known, it seemed.

"I cannot control the Jarl." I told him truthfully. "But I do control the Legion, and we'll leave in three days at the latest."

Rorik regarded me with a curious look. There was no doubt in my mind he had heard of me, and knew who he talked to. Maybe I was some foolish young nord to him.

Rorik nodded and made to turn around. He stopped himself though, and turned back to me.

"Young women work at our Inn's, Battlemage. If I get a mention of wandering hands, or Talos forbid it, something worse, I'll geld the bastard who does it." Rorik said as a warning.

"I'll do it myself." I told him, completely agreeing with that assessment.

Once again, Rorik eyed me curiously. I couldn't help but wonder what he was looking for. The look continued for a couple of moments. Not enough to make me uncomfortable, but enough to make note of it.

"Will you be hunting for food?" Rorik asked.

I knew why he was asking the question. An army marches on its stomach, and I had a lot of mouths to feed. But that was one of the best aspects of the Legion, our supply lines. Food came in a steady stream from the capital. I had enough supplies to make it to Helgen and back to Solitude.

I had a suspicion it was because Skyrim, barring High Rock, was the empire's most prosperous province. The emperor was not a dumb man either. This Civil War was a training ground for his army. I suspect it was why he even dared to encroach on our traditions in the first place, with the White-Gold Concordat banning the worship of Talos, and then his decree for the Challenge between Ulfric and Torygg. Did the emperor see Skyrim as his savior, all those years ago when he signed the peace agreement?

"No. We won't become a burden on your people. That I promise." I told the man. My respect for Rorik went up a notch.

He was worried about his people. What happens if an army marches through your town? There are so many possibilities.

If it is a traditional army, they come through and take the young men off to fight with them. That type of army will take more than that. The soldiers will take women, most of the time, without their consent. They'll act as tyrants on the local population.

They'll want the local blacksmith to repair all their armor and weapons for free. Then they'll kill him when his daughter shows up with a black eye and he confronts the man who did it.

The army will hunt the local area for food, killing off the main source of food for the town, and the hunters who feed the town will have to move on.

That was not my army.

My army will feed itself, from it's own lands. We'll patrol the places we visit, remove bandit hideouts, and offer protection to the towns we pass through. We won't take young men, but we will accept them. We won't put them in the front lines, but rather foster them into a proper soldier and more importantly, a man with discipline. We'll pay him properly, so that when he returns home he is a functioning man of society with something to offer the world.

Just as Tiber Septim did.

"Good. You can have the fields over there." Rorik said before breaking eye contact and walking away, back into his town. His hand was pointing off to the left of us.

I turned to where Enden sat on his horse. "You heard him, let's set up camp."

Enden nodded to me, before turning his horse around to follow my orders. I turned to my most constant companion on this march across Skyrim, Ariella. She sat on her horse still, looking around at the town and other things in the distance.

"It always surprises me." I commented. I had a feeling I knew what she was thinking.

"Everything is so much bigger, much more full of life." Ariella said, confirming that I did know what she was talking about. I grunted something that sounded like an agreement.

I realized that I had yet to ask about her time at the College of Winterhold. I never heard her describe it before. I hopped up on my horse again before replying.

"Is it the same way at the College?" I asked curiously.

Ariella smiled a little, and she got a far off look. "Yes. There are so many more students. Right before I left, we were supposed to start teaching the children of Winterhold. It would have been an amazing opportunity, for magick and education in general." She said reminiscing.

"The towers are taller than the… than what you would expect." Ariella said, catching herself from referring to the 'games'. "And the grounds are massive. We have entire wings of housing that we aren't using. It's potential is enormous."

I smiled, as a picture of the College made itself known in my mind. "You'll have the opportunity again." I tried to comfort her a little.

Ariella's smile withered. "I'm not so sure. The Stormcloak influence runs deep in Winterhold. As does the prejudice against magick."

That was fairly true, but I couldn't help but think that after this war, there will be a cultural revolution in Skyrim. Or rather, views on certain subjects will be reinforced, and others will be changed completely. Something in my gut told me it wouldn't just be in Skyrim.

"Well, then we'll have to start at Whiterun, and go from there." I told her simply, hoping to cheer her up a little bit. I knew she would catch on to the 'we'.

"We?" Ariella asked with a smirk and a look. I was not as slick as I thought I was apparently. That was just fine with me.

I just shrugged, and tugged on my horse's reins.

"I'll need something to do after this war." I answered.

Ariella didn't answer right away. I saw her eyes were fixed on the thousands of men marching into our new campsite. Her magicians were already busy setting up their own camps. Wooden beams were levitated and shoved into the ground with too much ease, and much too quickly. I saw my men look enviously at how efficient Ariella's people were.

I was always envious of the interior of their tents. It was nothing too impressive, just the most comfortable beds in the world. I had been trying to get the enchantment for that off of her since I felt the glorious material. Most of our meetings take place in those tents. Not only for the comfortability of the seating, but also because of the temperature enchantments on the interior. My Legate's seemed to love it there.

"The war might be the least of our problems." Ariella said. I knew she was talking about Alduin, the world-ender.

I have to admit that I am also very worried about the threat. If everyone else was so overpowered, how would the first-born of Akatosh impact the world. I still have yet to come up with a solution to him. Or really, dragons in general, I didn't have a solution to. I wasn't sure if there was a solution.

"Maybe. But something tells me that it isn't the Civil War, or Alduin, or Miraak that is our biggest threat." I told her truthfully. None of those problems appear as too big of a threat. Somehow I was supremely confident we would triumph over them. There was something lurking in the background, laying in wait, to see the outcome of the events happening in Skyrim.

Ariella looked at me curiously when I said that. It was the first time we really discussed this type of thing in any depth. Most of the time we talked about magick, and it's wonders.

"I don't know why I consider the Aldmeri dominion as the biggest threat." I revealed truthfully. I couldn't understand why my gut told me to worry over the High Elves in the background. It was perplexing.

"You need to focus then." Ariella said with a berating tone. "We have issues that need our attention immediately."

"Trust me, I have tried." I replied truthfully. "And I am giving it my full attention, I promise."

Ariella eyed me warily. She obviously didn't believe me.

"We'll see."

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"Hadvar! It's good to see you!"

I didn't expect that reaction from Igmund, I'll admit. I took it in stride though, and embraced him in a hug. It wouldn't do to deny a Jarl that shows you such affection.

"It is good to see you also, Jarl Igmund." I replied respectfully.

"Bah, enough of the 'Jarl' shite. I didn't get to see you nearly enough as I wanted to in Solitude. Tullius is working you properly isn't he." Igmund jumped right into conversation as if we hadn't spent time away from each other, like a true nord would. I suspected it was because there were very few people he respected. I just happen to be on that list.

"Aye, he is!" I agreed as I gestured to the man beside me. Rorik stood beside me in the middle of the road leading to his town waiting patiently for his time to speak.

Now was that time. "Jarl Igmund, Rorikstead is yours." Rorik said respectfully.

The Jarl's entire demeanor changed. Igmund looked the man up and down, much the same way he did to me the first time we met. That seemed like so long ago, when in reality it hadn't been a full year since I was dragged in front of him for stopping the cannibalists in the crypts of Markarth. Life was much easier then.

"I have heard good things about you Rorik." Jarl Igmund said, continuing to eye the man. Rorik held his gaze, easily.

"I will ask the same question I asked the Battlemage." Rorik said, gesturing to me. "How long do you plan to stay in Rorikstead?"

The question was a bold one, there was no doubt about it. I knew he was doing it out of concern for his people, but this was a Jarl he was speaking to. Igmund didn't outwardly react.

Before he could respond, I decided to speak up.

"I told Rorik that we would leave tomorrow, Igmund." I said to direct the attention elsewhere.

Igmund looked directly at me, and his mouth twisted slightly. "Of course, we have a schedule to keep. And a war to win. Not all of us have the luxury of staying home, warm and cuddled next to our wife." Igmund agreed, while throwing massive shade at Rorik.

"I did my duty to Skyrim in the Great War, with your fath…"

I grabbed Rorik's shoulder and pulled. I stepped between him and Igmund quickly.

The man with a sharp eye, who was always beside Rorik, moved with me. The sound of a sword barely moving from its sheath hit my ears. Rorik's hand stopped his bodyguard quickly, but he did not move away from me. I ignored him.

"That is enough. We will leave in the morning. Your town will be untouched. Is that not enough? Or would you like to disrespect the Jarl a little more?"

Rorik's jaw clenched, and I wondered what he held against Igmund. Or rather, I wonder what Igmund did to him.

"That is more than enough Battlemage." Rorik said.

I never thought I'd see the day where a man would be more respectful to me, than a Jarl of Skyrim. It was perplexing. Maybe it was because I made sure to march my men until sundown yesterday so that they were too tired to stir any trouble up in town. In fact, the few that had ventured to the Inn's, were very respectful if the Innkeeper's were to be believed. Perhaps Rorik was just a man who valued actions over titles?

"Good. Now I think it would be a good idea if you tended to your duties today." I offered the man. I silently thanked Talos when Rorik obeyed me and turned around to walk back towards the town.

His sharp eyed bodyguard walked backwards, following him and glaring at me. Once he felt like he got his message off, he too turned around.

"You speak for me now, Hadvar?" Igmund asked, with a tone that did not match the one from our greeting.

"Of course not, my Jarl. I speak for the Legion." I told him with a slight bow.

I couldn't help but notice Thren's smug look from atop his horse behind the Jarl. I ignored it.

"Show me the grounds."

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"Sir."

I looked up from the book in my hands, to where Enden stood at the front of the tent. Ariella did the same.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Igmund is at the Inn." Enden said simply.

I sighed, a very deep sigh, knowing what that meant. He was drunk, and intentionally antagonizing Rorik. I stood up after a moment.

"Igmund is Jarl." Ariella told me, as she too stood up after closing her book.

I just shot her a look out of the side of my eye. It said, 'are you coming'. She picked up on the look and smirked at me.

I started striding towards the middle of town fairly quickly. My heart rate started to increase. I had a choice to make.

Do I stop Igmund? Can I?

I told Rorik that nobody from the Legion would cause any type of ruckus in the town. The Jarl stood outside of my jurisdiction. Igmund was Jarl of Markarth. Truthfully, I had no right to command him to do anything. Neither did Rorik.

But I told Rorik this wouldn't happen.

And, if I didn't stop Igmund now, at the first stop along our journey across Skyrim, what kind of precedent would that set? He could single handedly set the population of Skyrim against us because of his actions.

That is what caused me to make up my mind on what I was going to do.

When I opened the door to the Inn, I was assaulted with the sound of an alright voice singing a familiar tune only a nord would recognize. I barely registered the lyrics. The stale smell of ale, mead, and liquors assaulted my nose.

Igmund's roaring laughter hit my ears immediately. He was in the far corner of the bar, with at least ten empty mugs in front of him, and a nord girl on his lap. I say girl, and by that I mean that she couldn't have been older than fifteen.

This is common in Skyrim. Nothing out of the ordinary. I could have gone right up, and joined him in groping her, and the other girls working the inn and nobody would have batted an eye. But the look on her face, pure terror. She didn't care that he was Jarl of Markarth. All she wanted was to get off of his lap and quit her job, no doubt.

This reinforced my decision.

There were ten of my men total in the bar. One group of four sat at a table, talking a bit loudly and drinking their fair share. The other group had five men, doing the same and playing a card game.

Neither of these groups dared touch the women in the place, even if their eyes lingered on the girls' backsides a little more than they should.

The last one of my men sat directly beside Igmund, with a girl on his lap also.

Captain Thren.

I smirked, knowing that this was a man I could command, and had every right too.

I noticed all of this in the few seconds it took for the bard to recognize me. His singing, and playing, stopped suddenly. It reminded me of a scene out of a western, when an outlaw walks in.

Then my men noticed me.

Everyone but Captain Thren in the back of the room stood up, sending their chairs skidding behind them. They snapped to attention quickly, startling a couple tables of locals.

"Get some rest, men." I ordered and they scattered out of the door behind me quickly abandoning their drinks. I made a note in my mind to tip the barkeep and the girls before I left.

"Hadvar!" Igmund's voice was one of a very very drunk man. There is a difference when nord's get drunk, and the other races get drunk.

There was no slurring of words when nords got drunk. One minute, they are clear eyed and clear faced. The next, they are red eyed and red faced. Their veins break out of their thick skin, and it looks like they could start a brawl at any minute. Most of the time, that is exactly what happens.

Igmund was very drunk. As was Thren.

I looked to the locals in the inn. "Citizens of Rorikstead. It is getting late, your homes call for you. Don't worry about your drinks, it is on the legion tonight." I said much more softly than I did to my own men.

I expected the townspeople to make a fuss about it, but surprisingly, everyone that didn't work at the establishment left fairly quickly. They weren't nearly as quick about it as my men were, but they left all the same. Maybe they could sense that I wasn't here to enjoy myself for the night. I was happy that Rorik himself hadn't shown up yet.

Once it was just Thren, Igmund, Ariella, Enden, and I, I moved towards Igmund's table.

The girls in their laps looked at me pleadingly.

Igmund and Thren looked at me angrily now. They understood what I was doing, and my stance on what was happening. In their eyes, it must have looked like I was siding with Rorik over the argument earlier.

"Get up girls, go home. When you come back in the morning, you'll receive a generous tip for taking care of these two strong nord men." I told them without room for argument. They tried to obey me, but grabby hands pulled them back down onto the laps of their assaulters.

"Fuck you, Hadvar. Go to bed, and I'll forget this ever happened." Igmund said. If I didn't know better, I would have called him sober when he said it. I didn't care.

I felt a rolling of magicka behind me. Ariella was getting pissed.

"You stand with this milk-drinker, Enden?" Captain Thren said with a booming laugh. Apparently they were familiar with each other from their time in Solitude together.

"He is a good man." Enden said evenly, no room for bullshit.

"Captain Thren, on your fucking feet right now!" I used my 'general' voice for that, and skillfully moved my magicka to his body. It was hard to miss the girl in his lap.

Some might think I would send 'fear' into his body, but that wouldn't do. I saw an opportunity and I was going for it. I sent 'courage' into him, and hid my smile behind smoldering eyes.

Thren lifted the girl off of his lap immediately. Once she was clear, I went to work.

I grabbed him by his throat and shoved. He practically flew off of his feet into the wall behind him. I was on top of him quickly, beating his face in. By the fourth punch, his jaw cracked and he lost consciousness.

I could have kept going, but I didn't. The thought of hitting him until he stopped breathing was so enticing, it was hard to ignore. Instead I jumped off of his body, with blood on my knuckles and looked straight to Igmund.

Igmund stared at me nonchalantly, as if he didn't care that his friend was now bleeding and broken on the floor. I held his eyes for a good moment and tried to get the message off as best I could.

Igmund's eyes glanced down to the sword on my waist. It sparked a memory in me. Flashes of Torygg offering me the King's Blade flew in front of my eyes.

Of course I could order Igmund to obey my rules. In the eyes of tradition, anything pertaining to the war was my jurisdiction now. That was a bit of a grey area as to whether or not it allowed me dominion over Jarl's but it was just enough of a grey area to let me get away with this.

"You'll get up now, Igmund. And you'll go to bed. In the morning, we march for Helgen." I told him.

Enden moved behind me and picked up Thren's unconscious body after checking for signs of life. He was alive, although he would hurt for the next month. Especially after what I had in mind for him in the morning. Enden moved to the door. When he opened it, he found nine legionnaires standing outside the door acting like they hadn't heard anything. He handed them the unconscious body of Thren and gave orders before walking back inside.

Igmund let go of the girl. She jumped up and scampered out to the kitchen of the inn quickly. I heard the sounds of other girls fussing over her but ignored them.

Igmund stood up, and without saying a word he walked past me and out the door. On the way out, he turned and spat in my direction. I didn't react.

When the door to the inn closed, the tension in my body left and my eyes unconsciously sought Ariella's. I don't know what I was looking for, but what I found in her eyes was reassurance and that was perfect.

There was a knock near the bar. Both of us looked to the sound to see two mugs of mead sitting there. Ariella and I locked eyes again, and she smiled widely. The words were just about to leave my lips, but she beat me to it.

"How bout a drink?"

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A/N: Boom!

This may seem like an out of place chapter, but it has purpose for the story in the future, promise.

The last time something like this happened, it was Igmund raping and pillaging his way through Druadach. Some of the reviewers thought it was his right, as conqueror. I suspect those same people will object to Hadvar's interference in the Jarl's actions. I don't care what time period, or what universe you're in. A fifteen year old girl is a fifteen year old girl regardless of maturity level. I wouldn't stand for it, period. So Hadvar won't.

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