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♫♂GIBBERISH MAN♂♫
This is my first attempt at writing fan-fiction, or anything really. All criticism is welcome. (Note: When I copied and pasted from MS Word, the tabbing and spacing was lost. I'll do my best to fix it.)
Chapter One: A Jarl’s Passing
Ni’dal
10:16PM| 28th of Evening Star| Outside the walls of Whiterun
The khajiit lay on her back, staring at the starry sky. Snow fell, landing lightly on her dark fur. It was cold, colder than she had ever been. Oh, how she longed for a soft, warm bed. She rolled over, looking at the city. Whiterun it was called. “No cats allowed”. Though it was late, the town was very much alive. Tonight, on the third night of the New Life festival, she could hear the nordic songs from her bedroll.
Her stomach growled. She searched the camp for food, finding only skooma and potions. She could not go any longer without sustenance. She’d have to get food from somewhere. Hadn’t she heard that humans were charitable around this time of year? Perhaps she could persuade some nord to share their New Life Feast with her and her fellow Khajiit; it was the week of New Life, after all.
She heard the gates creek open. Two voices, strong with nord accents, grew closer as the gates slammed shut. Both voices were male, belonging to fully grown adults. They seemed to be having an argument.
“Why do you betray your kinsmen, Balgruuf? I thought you to be a true son of Skyrim; a man who would fight for the rights of his people. You should not be forced to worship Talos in secrecy. To Oblivion with the Empire; they are not as they once were.”
“I will not join you, Ulfric,” Balgruuf said to the other nord. “Skyrim has been a part of the Empire since before our fathers were born. The Empire needs us, and we need the Empire. In reality, we are the Empire. You say that you fight so that you can worship Talos freely. If you truly worship Talos, you would be happy to do so in secrecy rather than sully his name by leaving the very empire he founded.”
“I wish that you would not think this way, Balgruuf. We could have been great allies.”
“I could say the same to you, Ulfric.”
The two men were now in front of the camp. Balgruuf turned away from Ulfric and began walking back to the city. Ulfric looked upset; more than upset. He looked furious.
“That was your last chance, Balgruuf.” It happened quickly. Before the nord could react, there was an axe lodged in Balgruuf’s skull, and Ulfric was walking back to his carriage as if nothing had happened. The khajiit ran over to the corpse of the jarl. He was sprawled out on the grass, lifeless. A door opened behind her.
“Hey, you there! What’s all the shouting abou—“The owner of the stables walked silently toward the khajiit, stunned by what he saw. In front of him was a sneak thief cat standing over the body of his jarl. “GUARDS!”
The khajiit did not understand. She had done nothing wrong. She had just found the body herself, though she had witnessed the murder. The last thing she wanted was to be arrested. She drew her bow. “Please, shut up, nord. I do not wish to have to kill you tonight.”
She heard footsteps stop behind her. “Stop, in the name of the Jarl.” The guard stopped in his tracks. He looked at the corpse, shocked at the sight of Balgruuf’s lifeless body. He lunged at the khajiit. She felt that it was futile to plead innocence; she was a khajiit in an intolerant nation of stubborn fools. Three more guards arrived promptly thereafter. “What is your name, cat?”
“My name is Ni’dal, and I am not your crimin—“ Ni’dal Felt a blow to the back of her head.
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Halvor
8:00AM| 29th of Evening Star|Dragonsreach
The sky was grey as clouds of rain drifted over Whiterun. Besides the clouds, the sky was empty; no birds, no butterflies, no sun. Halvor walked slowly, nearly overrun with grief. Today, he buried a friend.
He walked in and out of Dragonsreach, coming to the landing where Numinex and Odahviing had been captured. Outside, there were twenty or thirty men and women, mostly nords. At the end of the balcony was a small scaffold. On the scaffold was his friend, surrounded by several other people who were close to him.
Halvor slowly approached the scaffold. As he passed, he could hear the people’s sobs and moans. He could feel their pain. He knew what they had lost, and what this man was to them. He looked at the children of the deceased. There were two sons and a daughter, all three weeping silently for their father. He looked at their uncle, a warrior and a man, now brought nearly to tears by the sight of his dead brother.
Halvor climbed the stairs to the scaffold and faced the people of Whiterun. “All of you know who I am,” he started. “Some of you call me Dragonborn, others of you call me Harbinger. You know me as the slayer of Alduin, and as leader of the companions, but how many of you can say that you have known me as a man and a nord? How many of you can say that you’ve sat by my side and ate a meal, or have even held a conversation with me? None of you can. The only man in Whiterun who truly knew me now lies here before all of us, dead. ”
“Jarl Balgruuf and I were great friends, and with him lie all of the things that he believed in. But how many of you know what Balgruuf stood for? Many of you knew nothing of Balgruuf, past his title. You weep for a man that you did not know. And why is that? This man never once shook your hands or held your children. The only time that many of you even saw this man was during his speeches. Perhaps you weep because you are afraid of the Stormcloaks, and others may be afraid of the Imperials. Maybe you are afraid of the Thalmor. Perhaps you weep because those around you weep. But no matter the reason, you are not weeping for this man. You weep because you fear the future that he has left you. But why should this one man have been responsible for protecting all of you? Why can you not stand together and fight alongside one another? Why can you not set aside your petty arguments and allegiances? Balgruuf spent the last part of his life trying to keep Whiterun out of the civil war, but the City itself seems to be in a civil war of its own. Be a citizen of Whiterun first, and of the Empire second! Be a citizen of Whiterun first and a son of Skyrim second.” Halvor’s voice cracked on the last word. He cleared his throat and turned from the crowd, fighting back tears. He sat next to Hrongar who patted him on his back. He looked at the crowd. They had stopped sobbing, and the room was silent.
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11:30AM |30th of Evening Star |Breezehome
It had all happened so suddenly. Two days ago, Jarl Balgruuf had been slain. Twenty-seven hours ago Halvor had been sitting at the funeral of his Jarl. And now, today, he was being approached by the Grey-Manes, Battle-Borns and the members of the Jarl’s court.
“I’ll get straight to the point,” Vignar started. “The people of Whiterun want the Dragonborn as their Jarl; the people want you, Halvor.” Halvor was taken aback by this. Traditionally, the title of Jarl was hereditary. He was of no relation to Balgruuf.
“What about his brother or his children?” Halvor inquired. “Isn’t the title of Jarl meant to be passed to the nearest relative?”
Farengar spoke up. “Typically, that’s how it works. Balgruuf’s children are young, though. His brother refuses to take the throne. We would give the seat to Vignar, but the Battle-Borns would object to that and the same is true for Idolaf and the Greymanes. I’d like to say that you have time to think about this, but time is something that we don’t have. For three years you have been thane of Whiterun. Since your arrival here, the town has been free of bandits and crime. You slew Alduin, Killer of Kings, saving all of Nirn. The dragons have taken a liking to you, as have the people. The people of Whiterun know and love you; they want you as their Jarl.”
Halvor thought about this. It was true; the people knew him and loved him. He had served as their protection for years, had earned his title as thane by slaying a dragon that attacked the city. He had been Harbinger of the Companions for a brief two years before resigning; leadership didn’t quite suit him. But for him to asked by the people of Whiterun to serve as their Jarl was something different. Had he not just buried his old friend Balgruuf? Balgruuf was still warm in his grave, but the people were already looking to him for guidance and leadership? He was flattered, but still skeptical.
“Let me speak with Balgruuf’s brother. If he still refuses, I suppose I’ll have to take the throne.”
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6:15PM |30th of Evening Star| Dragonsreach
The sky was golden, and the air was cool. Halvor stood on the roof of the barracks, Hrongar and Lydia close at his back. He looked down at the crowd; the people of Whiterun were eager to hear the news. He went over his speech in his head.
“People of Whiterun,” Halvor started. “In this dark, dark time, the people of Whiterun must stay together; in Skyrim, life is short, and can be even shorter when people do not take care of each other. But more importantly, the people of Whiterun need a leader who will protect and care for them. Hrongar, the next in line as your jarl, feels as if he would be incapable of successfully leading the people. He fears that the war will soon continue, and would rather be serving in Whiterun’s army than sitting in a throne. But Dragonsreach cannot be without a Jarl forever. It is to my understanding that you, the people, have chosen me to serve as your jarl, rather than Hrongar. At first, I was hesitant to accept; the title of Jarl is meant to be hereditary, and for me, a man of no relation to Balgruuf, to take the throne, would not be appropriate. I have spoken with Ysgramor in Sovngarde, however. He and I know each other well, and in our brief time together a strong friendship was made. As a result of this, I believe that Ysgramor would take no offense to my taking the place of one of his descendants in the throne of Whiterun, and therefore, I accept your request, and will take the title of Jarl Halvor.” The crowd roared in approval.
“As your new Jarl, I promise to protect you to the best of my ability. Many of you know by now that I am Dragonborn. I wield the power of the voice, and many of the dragons have come to respect me. Once they have heard that I am Jarl of Whiterun, there will be very little risk of dragon attack in the hold. Also, as many of you know, I am a proud member of the Companions. The Companions have agreed to serve as protection to the town in my absence, and in the event of an attack. Their new Harbinger, Dhani, asks that I urge any and all capable fighters to visit Jorvaskr; the companions are looking to expand.”
“Also as Jarl, I am entitled to keep a Jarl’s court, made up of my most trusted acquaintances. Lydia will remain as my housecarl; she and I have traveled the lands of Skyrim, and she has more than once saved my life. The title of Steward will go to Hulda, who has agreed to sell her inn to Ysalda. Farengar will remain court wizard, as he has the greatest knowledge of dragons, and with his help, we may be able to prevent the dragons from leaving Skyrim; as you may have heard, they have been seen in Bruma, Blacklight, and Jehanna. They prefer to fly here in Skyrim, but occasionally wander off past the borders.”
“Jarl Balgruuf was a dear friend to me, and I will watch over his children; they will remain with me at Dragonsreach, as will Hrongar. They will be raised as if they were my own. Also, Helgen shall be rebuilt; the imperials have abandoned it, and we can always use the extra space. There have been many families coming to Whiterun in hopes of staying out of the war. Lastly, people of Whiterun, please feel free to come to me or my steward with your problems; I will resolve them immediately.” Halvor looked at the scribes down in the crowd. “If you would, I would like copies of your writings. My steward will have them delivered to the villages of the hold. Thank you all for your time.” The crowd continued to cheer.
