Act II: Chapter 1

Hello everyone,

I'm excited for the next act in this story, for a reason you all will figure out pretty soon. Ten chapters on act 1 isn't so bad, but could be a little longer. There are some stuff I could have gone into deeper detail about or built up more, but it was going sooooo slow I had to speed it up. Anyway, on to the chapter.

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Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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'Well, I should have expected this.'

I couldn't help but think that I didn't regret it, in fact, it was worth it. There is no better feeling than going toe to toe with another man and coming up victorious. Especially if that man is Private Loren, someone who is, admittedly, not as incompetant in leading men as I had accused him of being. The men listen to him, and respect him.

But….

The loose ropes on my wrist and my hearty meals throughout the few days I sat in confinement told me where their true loyalty lies. It didn't even feel like a punishment, considering I was allowed all of my possessions in the house that became my cell. All I did was read about and practice magick the whole time.

In fact, I perfected the spell that would get me through my current situation, 'Ironflesh'.

'Crack'

I felt a small pinch where the whip hit me, but almost no pain came from the blow. I smiled, and held the magic, as I realized that Loren would notice I was using magick to aid me.

I can imagine his face as he realized there was no grunt of pain, nor a line of split skin that would normally accompany someone getting lashes.

'That's right, fuck you, Loren.' I thought gleefully.

Now that I wasn't in a position of authority, I was able to notice how ….stiff it made me. It's understandable, considering I had men that looked up to me all the time. But I realized that I was having very little fun. And that was weird, being a nord.

Nords live a hard life, and we laugh in life's face to spite it, while getting piss drunk. The fight with Loren showed me a couple of things.

One, I probably shouldn't hit a superior officer again.

Two, I fucking loved it.

Three, I have gotten too uptight.

Maybe it was the stress of being severely underpowered for this world, combined with having almost no power. Now, even though I was under the threat of demotion or court martial, I felt better about my chances in the world.

After Calcelmo's lesson on manipulation magicka, I could see how to reach the higher levels of spells. It was just folding, bending, twisting my magicka in a way that would improve the spell and take it to the next level. Sure, I had to grow my reserves by a fuck ton, but that would happen with time.

'Crack'

A line of fire appeared on my back, and I almost grunted in pain but the surprise at the whip getting through ironflesh distracted me. I glanced back, and saw the glint of steel on the end of the whip.

'Fucker is using iron tips?' I thought, and came up with another plan. I twisted my magic and gave it a new purpose. 'I guess the legion knows how to deal with magicians.'

Gasps rang out in the crowd as the wound on my back knit itself back together. I smiled as another lash hit my back. The wound was quickly healed.

Another lash, and I stubbornly didn't let a single sound escape my lips, I just focused on keeping ironflesh up, and healing the wounds on my back.

Another lash.

Heal.

Another lash.

Heal.

It went on for a very long time, way beyond my original sentence of twenty lashes. I wanted to shout at Loren about going back on his word, but then again, I was the one cheating with magick. He just wanted to make a point.

Luckily, Loren stopped before my magicka ran out. It was a good thing too, because without ironflesh to protect my back, those iron tips might kill me… or worse, paralyze me with the right shot.

My men ...no, soldiers that I recognized came and untied me from the post quickly after the last lash. I looked around, to see who all had come to watch my punishment. The crowd was rather large.

Loren stood at the appropriate distance, with the whip in his hand and smiling my direction. Jarl Igmund, and Calcelmo stood off to the side of him. Calcelmo had a broad smile on his face, no doubt laughing at my use of magick to thwart Loren's punishment. Igmund, however, was not amused at all. He looked at me judgingly.

I thought it funny, considering I was the man who handed him Markarth's future prosperity on a silver fucking platter. And that was before my men cut through the Forsworn's army and saved his bitch ass. Mentally, I moved his name in my shit list, until further notice.

Loren though, I gave him a parting gift to remember me by before they took me back to my 'cell'. The act made his face twist up in rage, making it worth it.

I winked at him.

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"Maybe I shouldn't have winked at him."

"No, you should not have winked at him." Calcelmo said from his spot on top of his horse.

I walked beside him, leading my horse, but not being able to ride him. At least I could use it as a beast of burden, so that I didn't have to carry all of my things. Admittedly, I could handle it since they were only a few books, and some other random things, but still. I didn't want to carry it all the way back to Markarth.

"At least he did not demote you." Calcelmo commented.

"He would have, if he could have." I said. "I think."

Calcelmo scrunched his face up, thinking. "Surely Tullius wouldn't send him here, with the authority of promoting you, but not demoting you."

"Everything in the legion seems ass backwards to me. Wouldn't put it past him." I commented. "But he did strip me of command. I am Legate in name only."

Calcelmo hummed, not agreeing but not disagreeing either. "I think it would have been best to just take the beating. You probably made it worse by winning. Not only did you beat a superior officer half to death, you wounded a Nords pride."

"He got good men killed." I retorted. "And it felt damn good to feel his bones break."

Calcelmo sobered up a moment. "Yes, the casualties should not have been as high. He was negligent. The men do respect his ability to kill, however. Apparently, he is a berserk."

"They wouldn't respect him as much if they saw him lying in a pool of his own blood, like we did." I smirked. I was still riding the high that was me kicking his ass.

Calcelmo sighed in response. I grimaced, knowing how I must sound. 'Guess it's time to move on from that.'

"What do you think will happen now?" I asked the old wizard. It was a question I asked myself all the time. I had no idea the far reaching consequences this would lead to.

Would I go back to Markarth, and lead a small section of the city guard? Now that I had led the entirety as a pseudo-captain, it felt hollow. And any Captain that filled the role, would have a much easier job at cleaning up the city than normal, considering the discipline that existed because of me.

'Flushed it down the drain, because I can't control my temper.' I thought to myself. 'Still think it's worth it though.'

"I am not sure." Calcelmo answered. "But Tullius would be a fool to allow your talent to go to waste in Markarth."

"I think that is what I am afraid of." I said before I could stop myself. I could do nothing about what was to come for Skyrim in Markarth. Almost all of the main players were deeper in Skyrim. And with the shit that I'm in right now, it would be very easy for me to get blackballed from ever moving up in the Legion.

"I think you'll find out soon." Calcelmo said as his horse stopped.

I looked up to see what caused him to stop. There in the middle of the road, sitting on top of a massive, beautiful red colored horse, was probably the most politically powerful man in all of Skyrim.

General Tullius.

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My first impression of the legendary General was that he was short. Despite that, he displayed a deadly aura of confidence and control. His grey/white hair was cut close to his head and he wore his unique set of imperial armor. The symbol of the empire was etched on the breastplate proudly.

His eyes were hawk-like and snapped from person to person, judgingly. I had no doubt that within the first few moments, he knew who I was along with the people around me.

He had apparently been waiting for us for a few days at the fork in the road. He had been privy to our plans the whole time so I wasn't that surprised that he knew where we would be.

Igmund immediately ordered everyone to make camp for the day, even though it was only mid-day, and we could make really good progress towards Markarth.

So I did as they said, anxiously waiting to get the final verdict on what my punishment would be from the head honcho himself. Eventually, I decided that the best way to distract my mind was to read and practice my magick. It didn't work very well. I could hardly concentrate, and the magicka kept slipping from me.

Eventually, there was a knock on the center wood of my tent. I opened it up, to see a fellow Legate, although it was not one I was familiar with.

'One of Tullius'?' I wondered.

"General Tullius requests your presence." The man said.

I stepped out of the tent, and stood up. I towered over the man, who I now knew was an imperial based on his height and accent. I stretched for a moment, then nodded to him to lead the way.

He led me through the maze that was an Imperial Legion's camp. We didn't have to walk far, considering my rank allowed me a fairly close position in the hierarchy. Although, my current situation did make me the black sheep of the Legion.

'Doesn't stop the men from saluting me whenever I walk by.' I thought as I saw a group of soldiers do that very thing, before going back to what they were doing.

"Your men respect you." The Legate leading me said.

I didn't think it was necessary to respond, so I didn't. I also didn't see the point, because we were approaching the large tent that symbolized the Jarl's residence.

'Honestly, assassin's wouldn't have any problem locating it.' I couldn't help but think.

An image of a black hand appeared in my mind, and I banished it, not willing to think about the Dark Brotherhood right now.

I moved into the tent, leaving the Legate at the front. I walked in to see the same set up that I had become familiar with over the past month and a half. The Jarl, Calcelmo, and Loren waited on my inside. This time, General Tullius and his second in command Legate Rikke occupied a section of the tent.

Their eyes turned to me as I entered and I stopped to salute the General.

"At ease, soldier." General Tullius said.

I moved forward then and came to stop in front of everyone, before falling into parade rest. I noticed that Loren was doing the same, now that his superiors were in the tent. Normally he would lounge around in our meetings if they became too lengthy. Some part of me wanted to break his nose again, although I would make sure I came out unscathed this time.

"You have been busy, Legate Hadvar." General Tullius said to begin. "Been with the Legion less than a year, and despite a brief stint in jail, you have risen through the ranks."

Tullius paused, and looked at me. His voice carried in the tent, despite it being obvious he hadn't raised his voice. It wasn't sweet like honey, but nor was it rough like the roar of a lion. I couldn't accurately describe it. All I knew was that there was weight behind his words, regardless of the context. In short, he sounded like a General.

"I have found myself in interesting situations, and have taken advantage of them." I said, deciding that I needed to actually speak to the man.

Tullius nodded, and looked at the ceiling of the tent. "A fair assessment." Tullius commented.

The General clapped his hands. "Well, you assaulted a superior officer. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"He swung first." I said simply. "I acted in self-defense."

General Tullius chuckled.

"You goaded me!" Loren roared out towards me.

Tullius' head snapped to him so fast, you would think a naked woman appeared out of nowhere. Loren fixed the angry expression on his face, and schooled it before looking out in front of him like he was supposed to.

'Yea bitch, your daddies here. Behave yourself.'

"He has a point, Legate." Tullius said.

I frowned as he said that, seeing tons of flaws in the argument.

"My men do not give me a lip very often, but it still happens, General. I do not attack them because of it. Nor do I have the right to." I retorted. "And calling someone incompetant because of their actions on a battlefield is not goading someone. In this case, it is fact."

General Tullius obviously didn't expect my answer to be so well formulated, but I had been thinking on this topic for a good while.

Legate Rikke straight up smiled. A nord woman smiled at what I said, before turning to Loren with a shit-eating grin on her face. It made me think they didn't get along too well. It also made me think that I was on the right track for my defense.

"Nor would I attack my men, outside of a few rare circumstances." General Tullius agreed before turning and staring at Loren also. "However, I am curious as to this fact of Loren's incompetence. I chose him for this operation myself."

"Have you received the casualty reports?" I asked the General.

"The Jarl lost over half of his forces. The Legion lost just north of six hundred men, an astounding victory over a superior force." General Tullius recited perfectly and immediately.

"And you know of my battle plan?" I asked him again.

"You proposed to split your force, and take the eastern and western roads." General Tullius answered me, once again perfectly.

"Good." I said seriously. "I lost just over one hundred men."

I didn't say anything else, I didn't need to. We were all educated men. Tullius could figure out that Loren had lost half of his force. And that was before we even encountered the main fighting.

General Tullius blinked a few times, and processed the information. Legate Rikke was no longer smiling. Instead, rage was on her face, and she paced around the room, staring at Loren.

"When I met with him in the middle of the city, his men were out of formation, fighting individual battles. He looked like a crazed animal, attacking everything in sight." I continued. "I had to take control of his forces, or fear losing the battle because of his negligence." I paused for a moment, letting it sink in.

"How is that anything but incompetence?" I asked.

I felt really good about my position, so I stayed put. I had successfully directed the conversation away from my misdeeds, to my accomplishments while also pointing out Loren's faults.

General Tullius didn't seem like the type of man that lost his temper very often, but I could almost see the steam pouring out of his ears. Rikke had no problem showing her fury towards the man.

"Go wait outside the tent." General Tullius said towards Loren.

Loren looked up at the man, red-faced. I wasn't sure if it was out of anger, or embarrassment at his actions being put on full display for his boss. He wanted to dispute the General's decision.

"Don't say a word." Tullius told the man.

Loren obeyed, and moved towards the entrance of the tent. He passed right by me on the way. We held each other's gaze the whole time. When he passed, he walked with his head up and with a cocky gait.

It really didn't matter. I was sure you could hear the conversation from the entrance, but it was symbolic. Like 'hey, you fucked up. And I want you to know you fucked up, go sit in the corner.'

The Jarl just watched on with an oddly serious look on his face. I wasn't sure if that was because he liked Loren, and disagreed with Tullius. Or if it was because of my reveal of Loren's actions. Either way, the look was one that normally didn't grace his face.

Calcelmo looked intrigued at the turn of events. We all fell into silence after that, as everyone took time to process the information. Tullius just stood there, staring down at the table in front of him. Rikke fingered the hilt of her sword, looking livid. I just waited, content with my defense of myself.

"Loren has proven himself capable of cleaning up cities of corruption." Tullius said suddenly. "There were always rumors of his ...excessive use of force. But the ends justified the means, in my mind. So I sent him here to prove himself capable of leading a large force, with a secondary investigation of what really happened in Markarth. I am man enough to admit when I am wrong, Legate. You have my apologies."

I should have just accepted, but I didn't. "Good men died because of him. Men that would have been an invaluable asset to the Legion." I retorted. "But I can't change what happened, and neither can you, General. I accept your apology."

'Now please for the love of Talos, don't demote me.'

"Agreed, Legate. Now, that information does not change the fact that you assaulted a superior officer." Tullius said.

I held in the groan that threatened to spill from my throat.

"For that reason, I hereby demote you to the rank of Imperial Battlemage." Tullius said, dropping a huge fucking bomb.

At first, I felt terror. Then after a moment, I really thought about it. Why would he do that? 'Markarth has no use for an Imperial Battlemage.' I thought.

"It just so happens that I am in need of a competent mage." Tullius said after a moment.

'Oh, I understand.' I thought to myself as the implications hit me.

"You nords may claim suspicion towards the arcane, but Skyrim is hell bent on throwing me problems I can't solve without a mage." Tullius expanded. "You'll be coming with me to Solitude soldier, we leave tomorrow."

'….What…'

I couldn't see my face, but if I could, I would see that my mouth was open and my eyes were wide.

'It's a demotion in name only.' I pondered. 'And even that isn't really true. Battlemages stand outside the normal rankings. They are allowed a certain amount of autonomy.'

That thought train led me to what he said about Skyrim throwing him problems he can't solve without a mage.

'Just what have I got myself into?' I wondered.

On one hand, it's great. Solitude is the capital of Skyrim, and the seat of the current High King Torygg. I was getting thrown to the heart of Skyrim's politics. It was a brilliant move on Tullius' part.

On one hand, he definitely punished me. On the other, he gets me out of Markarth where he can use my talents in leading people and magick.

'It's perfect for me.' My mind supplied. 'I couldn't do much tied to Markarth. As much as I'll miss my position, I needed this to happen. I can do so much more from Solitude. Plus, there is bound to be much more magickal knowledge there.'

I smiled, my mind made up.

"Thank you sir." I said towards the General.

General Tullius nodded towards me with a smile of his own. Legate Rikke barked out a laugh, and it triggered the rest of the room also. Calcelmo, Igmund, and Tullius all chuckled a little bit.

"Tullius, you devious bastard." Jarl Igmund commented from his seat. He took a deep drink out of his mug.

Calcelmo sent me a knowing smile. I could decipher what it meant. 'Lucky bastard.' General Tullius had, apparently, gotten tired of my presence because he barked out an order and turned away from me.

"Dismissed."

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A/N: Boom.

So apparently I am getting too predictable. Everyone roasted me and said that since it's an SI, Hadvar will be getting a promotion.

Well, you're wrong! And right?

Got demoted, but it puts him in a similar position. It honestly reminds me of Orik from the Inheritance Cycle. When he disobeyed orders to save Eragon, and then got assigned as Eragon's bodyguard as punishment. Which put him in a fairly influential position. That was my motivation.

I think it makes sense for Tullius to make this decision too. But then again, i know what is going on in the background, and you guys don't. Maybe I should let y'all know soon…

Anyway, what do we think? Hadvar defied his lashings with Magick, making the punishment useless. And he got a new rank.

Let's talk about it in the reviews!