Victory or Sovngarde

Chapter Two

"This war has waged for too long," the Jarl said as he paced in front of a long table covered in a map and small red or blue flags. "Far too long. Many have died over these past many years. To think, this could be the battle that wins the war."

"Which is why we can't lose," his steward, Proventius Avenicci, said. He wasn't wise in the ways of war, but he understood the politics. "You made the right decision calling for Tullius's aid, my lord."

"Perhaps," I said, rubbing my chin. I had been standing with the Jarl and his court ever since I delivered the news of the invading army. We had been discussing strategies for some time, but we seemed to be getting nowhere. "Perhaps not. I wish we did not have to involve the Empire's forces, but I suppose it's too late."

"Some have already arrived." Jarl Balgruuf folded his hands behind his back. "A legion and their commander, some female legate named Marina Brunelli, have taken up residence just outside the walls. Their courier said that the rest of their forces will be here by day's end."

"Why have they arrived in different groups?" I asked as I set my helm onto the table.

"Legate Brunelli and her forces were stationed near Morthal, in between the main hold and Rorikstead. The rest of the Legion's support is coming all the way from Markarth."

I nodded slowly. "They have quite the journey, then."

"Indeed." The Jarl combed his fingers through his graying blond beard. "Even with their help, though, I fear that my own men will be overwhelmed."

"Is that why you've requested the Companions' help?"

"Yes, Ylva. Seeing your warriors fighting for Whiterun will improve their morale. Help them keep their courage."

I crossed my arms and nodded. "I understand."

Light, metal-booted footsteps came up the stairs. I turned to see a tall and lean Imperial woman, wearing Legate armor without the helmet. She was about my age, somewhere in between twenty-eight and thirty years old. Her short brown hair was styled with three Nordic braids on either side of her head. Her stance, as well as her armor, exuded authority, but her gray eyes sparkled with a youthfulness I certainly did not expect from a commanding officer. She had an Imperial shortsword at her hip, and one hand resting on its hilt.

"Legate," Jarl Balgruuf said, "this is the Harbinger Dragonborn, Ylva Sky-Shatterer."

I gave a Nordic salute, which she returned. She did not act like most Imperials. Perhaps she was born or raised in Skyrim. "Marina Brunelli, I assume?"

She nodded. "I have heard many tales of you and your deeds, Sky-Shatterer. Needless to say, it is an honor to meet you." She pursed her lips. "But, if I may ask, why are you present for this council? You aren't a military leader."

"She and her Companions will be fighting alongside the Legion," Balgruuf said before I could.

"All due respect, my lord, but the Legion doesn't need the help of some... mead-guzzling mercenaries."

I glared at her. "'Mead-guzzling mercenaries'? It would do you good to show some respect for the greatest fighter's guild in Tamriel."

"I meant no offense. But you swear fealty to no side. It's hard to trust someone when you don't know if they'll stab you in the back."

"My Companions and I are sworn to defend this Hold, should the Jarl call for our aid. And he has, so even though I don't like the idea of fighting alongside men and women who are under the authority of a man who almost had me wrongfully beheaded, I will do it. But I can guarantee I will not enjoy killing my brothers and sisters."