Wrath of the Dragon part 7

Mjoll sat alone on her chair. Her eyes were closed and her brow was furrowed as she was lost in thought. The day had been quiet so far, yet this would likely change now that the final affairs of the Black Briar family had been dealt with. The two Black Briar sons, Hemming and Sibbi, had been thrown in the Riften jail. Their support for their mother had not gone unnoticed, yet Jarl Mjoll had refused to have them executed.

"They did not commit the same crimes as their mother, and they will not face the same punishment."

It was then shown just how much the people respected and even loved Mjoll, as the few that disagreed with her quickly bowed their heads and did not question their Jarl, no matter how much they hated the two Black Briar sons.

Ingun had been placed under house-arrest. Many wanted to see the same fate for her that was given to her brothers, yet the majority of Riften agreed that Ingun had nothing to do with her mother, saying 'the only thing they truly shared was their name'. Even so, she was still confined to the Black Briar mansion, yet this was mostly for her own protection, as a handful of people still spat on the doors and shouted threats.

As Mjoll's fears turned to reality as the day progressed, she started to long for the wilds again. To pick up Grimsever and kill a bear or explore a hidden grove. Yet she knew that her mission of the last ten years had finally been realized as well… the great Beast of Riften had been slain. And now she knew she could not go. She had to stay and help the people.. just like she had always done. Yet sometimes… Grimsever seemed to lie there all alone, gathering dust… a thorn in her eyes.

The thick mist that had covered all of the Rift had disappeared a day after Tarrion and Serana had left Riften. A thundering sound and a Shout was heard across the land and the skies cleared and the fog was lifted. All of Riften stayed outside for the entire day and basked in the sun, happy that it had returned. This all happened one week ago. Mjoll had given orders to assess the situation in the villages of the Rift, Shor's Stone and Ivarstead. Other hamlets and farms would come second, yet they too would have to be reached. The damages done to the hold would soon start to pour in, yet Mjoll hoped it would be remedied quickly through her orders. The forces of Riften were to pull away from the borders with the other holds immediately and help the towns and villages with anything they needed. Supply-lines were to be set up to try and get the hold back on its feet after two weeks of mist. Mjoll knew the Rift would have suffered the least damage, less so than the other Holds, and she was willing to help her neighbors with anything they needed.

Late in the evening a guard approached her.

"My Jarl," she started. "Ingun Black Briar has asked to speak to you."

Mjoll sat up straight, not expecting this request. But she nodded and the guard left, only to come back a few minutes later with Ingun behind her, flanked by two more guards.

Ingun looked worse than she had in her entire life. Her always open face was now closed and it seemed the inquisitive fire in her eyes had gone out. A defeated shell of a woman stood in front of Mjoll as she stood up.

"What can I do for you, Ingun?" she asked, trying to sound friendly.

Ingun opened her mouth, yet closed it again as she looked at the guard next to her.

"I'd like to ask something…" she said hesitantly. "Yet, I'd prefer it to be in private."

Mjoll looked at Ingun before nodding and gestured the guards to leave the two women alone. They did not seem to fully agree with this idea, yet followed her command without question.

Mjoll watched the three leave and waited for the door to close before turning to Ingun.

"What can I do for you," she asked again, now more friendly than before. "Can I get you something to eat first maybe?"

But Ingun shook her head. "Please, Mjoll.. I.." and she sighed. "I know you for long enough to see that you truly mean to be kind… yet it is not appreciated now. Not now that you have my mother's title after she was executed."

"It-.." Mjoll stared but Ingun cut her off.

"It was not your decision, I know… and I do not blame you…. I don't even blame Tarrion. But you are being too kind now. Just… treat me like you would anyone else."

Mjoll stood silent for a few moments before nodding understandingly.

"Very well… then what is it you wanted to ask?"

Ingun took a deep breath to compose herself and looked at her new Jarl.

"I want to leave the Rift, especially the city. This city has taken too much from me to stay."

Mjoll looked at Ingun and understood and she nodded.

"I understand… but where will you go? The other holds are likely still covered in mist."

Ingun nodded. "I know… but I still want to leave. I will find a way to survive and…. I don't need my name for that."

Mjoll looked at Ingun and again understood what she meant, and after careful consideration she nodded.

"As you wish. I will give you permission to leave, yet this cannot be done today or tomorrow, especially now with all of the other preparations and reparations of the entire hold. But within two weeks, I think I can make sure you can leave the city and the hold without anyone stopping you. Anything outside of my hold… is outside of my power."

Ingun nodded and thanked Mjoll after which she was given permission to return to her house. Mjoll stayed behind, wondering if she did the right thing. These thoughts were quickly silenced when new reports and new requests came in. She knew her rule started with more work than ever.

-Eastmarch-

Although navigating the mist proved troublesome for Serana, she was able to follow Tarrion without too much difficulty. His scent was easy to follow, even through the mist, something she joked about when they rested.

"I won't be responsible for my smell when I transform," he defended himself.

"I'm not complaining," Serana said with a smirk. "Without it I would not be able to follow you."

The days had passed as Tarrion and Serana travelled north towards Windhelm, the capital of Eastmarch. Ignoring small towns and hamlets on their way it had taken them a few days to reach the snowy regions of the hold, and then another day before they knew they had to be close. In the distance fast running water could be heard as the river that ran in front of the main city flowed into the Sea of Ghosts. There a massive bridge was made that gave access to the city itself, and it was there that Tarrion and Serana finally reached their destination. Serana could sense only a few guards that were positioned on the fortifications atop the bridge, yet they did not seem to notice them. The mist covered them as they walked over the bridge, silent enough to not be heard.

But when they reached the massive, iron gates they heard someone shout.

"Who goes there?"

Tarrion looked to his left and saw a small embrasure in the massive walls and the voice seemed to come from there.

A man stood behind it and asked again. "Who are you? State your business."

"I am Tarrion Dovahsebrom," he calmly yet sternly responded. "Open this gate."

The guard stayed silent for a few moments as his eyes widened. "Tarrion? Thane Tarrion?"

Tarrion was admittedly surprised by this, as he expected Jarl Brunwulf Freewinter to have replaced him by now. But before he had time to wonder over this, the guard shouted.

"Open the gate! Thane Tarrion has returned."

It took a few moments and the guard had to shout again before the mechanisms started to turn and creak. Serana could hear murmurs and whispers coming from the battlements above her and she sensed a guard run from his post towards the main palace.

A small battalion waited behind the gates and all stared at them in surprise and awe. Tarrion ignored most of them, yet told the captain that he would go and see the jarl. This was not a request, but a statement and all stepped aside and let them pass.

Inside the city the people were going on about their daily lives, more so than Serana expected. The mist impacted their lives for sure, yet inside the city walls most tried to live as much as they could. The third week had passed since the mist first showed up and although people seemed worried, most tried to live as they did before. Yet this was still impacted, not by the mist, but by the heavy snowfall.

All around them the snow had reached unseen heights. For the last three weeks it had been snowing without stopping, and many houses started almost disappear under a thick blanket of white. The streets were still open, yet this had been done through extreme effort to keep the snow to a minimum.

Many stopped with what they were doing as the two walked through the streets and some followed them. Others only stood silent and talked to each other as to what this would mean.

Arriving at the Palace of Kings they found the doors open and Jarl Brunwulf had just walked out and he frantically looked around for Tariron.

Brunwulf was a tall man and although he was not considered 'old', the hair on his head had all but fallen off and his beard had started to turn grey. His broad shoulders, thick neck and arms made him an imposing figure, yet behind his eyes there was wisdom and experience. Serana knew he was a former soldier who had fought in the Great War against the Aldmeri Dominion, and the scars on his arms were evident of that.

When Brunwulf saw Tarrion he froze for a few moments, but then walked to him and hugged him tightly.

"By all the gods," he said. "You're still alive."

Tarrion hugged him back, and a small smile was visible on his face. "It is good to see you again, old friend."

Brunwulf pulled back and smiled at both of them. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you again.. both of you. After two years…. I feared the worst. What happened?"

Tarrion raised his hands to calm him, only to cover his mouth to chough twice. "I will tell you… but not now. We are not here for pleasantries."

Brunwulf's smile disappeared and he furrowed his brow as he nodded. "I should have guessed. This mist… it was your doing?" and Tarrion nodded. "I am not even going to ask how this is possible. I know you are Dragonborn, but this… this is beyond anything anyone could ever have imagined."

He looked at both of them again and gestured them inside. "But yes… we should talk inside. I have a feeling I know what this will be about."

Inside the Palace of Kings a large number of people had gathered, many of them whispering to each other as they saw Tarrion and Serana enter the hall. Some seemed relieved and smiles appeared on their faces. Others were wary of him and looked at them in suspicion, not trusting that it was really them.

But Brunwulf led them past the onlookers and sat them down in a small office adjacent to the main hall. It was then, in the light of a small fire that was lit in the hearth, that Tarrion could take a good look at the Jarl.

His hair had grown greyer in the last two years, yet still seemed to have enough black to show that he was not old yet. The last of the hair on his head had either finally fallen off or been shaven off. A few wrinkles had appeared on his forehead, yet his face was healthy and his eyes were still filled with a young fire. Despite the troubles that a Jarl would face on a daily basis, Brunwulf seemed to be able to handle them with diligence. All in all he seemed healthy.. a bit weathered, but healthy.

"I have a few questions for you," Brunwulf started with a smile as he closed the door. "As I am sure you can imagine. Where have you been for the last two years? What happened? How did you return and from where? How are you?"

He stopped himself and looked at the two. His smile slowly disappeared. "I am sure you will give me the details one day, but right now… I have the feeling you're here on business."

"We are," Tarrion answered and although his voice was stern, it was not demanding. He coughed again before he continued. "It seems Skyrim has not been well off during our absence. We have heard of fighting between the Jarls and some even calling for a Moot… only to be ignored by the others. On top of that the Dragons are attacking innocent farmers. We've returned to a land of chaos, or that is how we both feel."

Serana nodded. "It was not our intention to stay away for so long… we planned to be back within a year. But we stranded on Akavir… we'll explain another time… and it was not easy to return."

"Akavir!?" Brunwulf spat out and he looked at both of them. "How in the name of Akatosh did you strand on Akavir?"

"Later," Tarrion said sternly, yet still not demanding. "We will explain another time, you have our word. For now we need to… forgive me for saying this… have your word that there will be no more conflict with the Holds around Eastmarch."

Brunwulf nodded. "I understand and I agree. Maven has been pushing from the south, and I have fortified a few key points to hold her back… but I have no intention of going to war with her. I know she is also fighting Falkreath… thinking Jarl Siddgeir weak enough to be overthrown."

"Maven is dead," Tarrion stopped him and Brunwulf looked both surprised and shocked. "She refused to listen to her people… and she was executed for it. I oversaw the execution myself."

Brunwulf opened and closed his mouth a few times before shaking his head. "I have a large number of questions about that, but the most important one now is this; Who is her successor?"

"Mjoll… The Lioness," Serana answered. "She's already working on rebuilding the Rift, and will no doubt withdraw any forces that threaten the border with Eastmarch."

"Mjoll," Brunwulf said to himself. "I have heard of her, but never met her. What kind of woman is she?"

"Headstrong and stubborn… but tough and she has a good heart."

"Better than Maven, by the sound of it," Brunwulf nodded. "I will send a few of my men to her to discuss business, but that cannot be done with the mist still all around us."

"I will lift the mist," Tarrion said calmly. "but only when I have your word that no holds will be invaded by Eastmarch forces."

Brunwulf looked Tarrion in his eyes, and Tarrion did not look away. There seemed to be no power struggle going on between the two, only a search for respect.

"If anyone else said this to me, I would have them thrown in the dungeons," Brunwulf eventually said. "But I know you Tarrion, and I know that you only want what is best for Skyrim and its people. I am still your Jarl… but even though I have fought in the Great War, you have done more for this land than me."

He sighed. "You have my word. No Eastmarch forces will invade any other hold. The fortified positions will stay where they are to protect and secure the borders… but not a single soldier will cross them."

Tarrion sighed as well, but more in relief than Brunwulf. "Tha-… thank you," he coughed and he meant it. Serana looked at him with concern as he wiped his mouth.

A knock was heard on the door and two men walked in. The first one was Vilkas who had a big smile on his face.

"You couldn't have warned me you were going to cover all of Skyrim in a mist?"

Tarrion chuckled and stood up. "It was not like I planned it," and he shook his old friend's hand.

Behind Vilkas a tall man appeared in the doorway. Taller than Tarrion, who was taller than most. Having to duck to make it through the doorway he smiled broadly. His hair was blonde and reached past his shoulders. A few scars were visible on his face and his chin was shaven clean. Bright blue eyes looked at those present and after moving Vilkas aside he hugged his thane.

"It is good to see you again, old friend."

Tarrion hugged Calder back. "Likewise, Calder. It's been too long. How are things?"

"Good," Calder said as he let Tarrion go. "Better than in other holds, from what I've heard," and he nodded at Vilkas before hugging Serana. "And we have the Jarl to thank for that. With you gone for that long, I had little to do than running the day-to-day things in Hjerim. Got boring after a while. Luckily there was plenty to do in helping to restore the Grey Quarter. The Dark Elves don't consider it an insult anymore, so we've made a lot of progress. But don't worry. Hjerim is still in good condition, I did not forget about it."

"Sounds like you have been busy," Serana remarked and she looked up at the large Nord.

"I have," Calder said and he looked proud. "Nilsine says that I should calm down a bit, but I like it when I have things to do… I'll go crazy otherwise."

"Nilsine Shatter-Shield?" Tarrion asked.

"Oh… yea," Calder scratched his head and he blushed a bit. "We started seeing each other a few months ago. She came by Hjerim one time since it belonged to her sister once. We started talking…. Then she came by a few more times… and I guess we're together now."

Vilkas had little to report to Tarrion. Brunwulf had not started any conflict inside or outside of his own hold and actively tried to keep the peace between his neighbours. The Grey Quarter had almost been fully restored, with only a handful of things that were left to improve. When Tarrion left the Palace of Kings he walked around the city for a while and saw many of the Dark Elve walking around with smiles on their faces, often conversing with each other or the Nords. From the corner of his eye Tarrion saw a few Nords standing in a dark corner, whispering to each other and all had deep frowns of discontent on their faces, clearly not liking to see the Dunmer happy. Tarrion ignored them and continued to look around. Vilkas explained how the mist had almost caught him as he reached the gates of Windhelm and the heavy snowfall started shortly after that.

"But Windhelm was already covered in snow… so a bit more did little to disrupt life here. Though, I am not so sure about the other parts of Eastmarch. Kynesgrove we've heard little from, and nothing from Darkwater Crossing. The farms to the east, like Hollyfrost and Hlaalu, have been doing what they could. The sooner the mist is lifted, the better."

Outside the city things were indeed slowly worsening, yet it had only been a few weeks and most were able to hold out. Yet the constant snow were covering the land more and more while the mist prevented steady trade and distribution of goods. But Tarrion so no reason to keep Eastmarch locked down. After making arrangements and restocking on some supplies, he and Serana left Windhelm. A few hours later the people heard a thundering sound echoing through the sky.

LOK VA KOOR

Within a few moments the snow stopped falling and the mist disappeared. The people quickly gathered outside to bask in the sun again and all were happy that it was over. Jarl Brunwulf Freewinter looked at it all and was in awe, though he did not show this to anyone. Standing on a balcony overlooking the city he saw how the clouds broke above him and the sun reappeared. Outside the city the fields and lands were once again visible and he fell silent.

"One man holding this much power," he said softly to himself, contemplating on what to think about it. "To be able to bring all of Skyrim to its knees with a few words. To hold enough power to force the very elements to do his bidding. This feels… wrong."

-Winterhold-

A week after the mist had been lifted from Eastmarch did Tarrion and Serana arrive at Winterhold. The ruins of the once capital of Skyrim were still visible, even under a massive layer of snow. The already frozen north of Skyrim was now covered in almost four meters of snow. Paths were no longer visible and the only reason they found the city at all was because of the few lights of the college that were visible through the snowfall. On their journey Serana noticed how often Tarrion coughed loudly. When she asked him he waved it away.

"A sore throat… nothing more. Don't worry."

When they arrived at the city itself the snow decreased until the roads were visible again. Any snowflake that landed on the roads inside the town melted instantly and disappeared without a trace. The two companions had to climb down to the city and found it quiet. Inside the houses lights were burning, but no-one was walking around town. Not even the guards.

And so Tarrion and Serana walked without any interruptions through the city until they reached the massive, stone bridge that led towards the College of Winterhold, the School of Magic in Skyrim.

Built on the edge of Winterhold the College had always been considered outside of the city limits. But after the Great Collapse that destroyed the majority of the city itself, the College stayed relatively unharmed and was now even more isolated. Standing on a large rocky spire it loomed over the city in an almost ominous way. The stone bridge was cracked and damaged yet magic seemed to hold it together. Spanning a large chasm over the Sea of Ghosts below made it a frightening experience to walk over it.

As they approached the gates of the College they heard familiar voices. A tall Altmer, a Dunmer, two Nords and a Redguard waited for them on the other side of the iron gates, which opened as they got closer.

"I told you they would be back, Onmund," the young Dunmer said with a smile. "Pay up."

"Yea, yea… I'll pay you later," the Nord answered, though he still seemed happy to see the two return.

Brelyna Maryon, Onmund, Colette Marence, Nirya and Azzar waited for them and after a short exchange of pleasantries and a hug between Serana and Brelyna were they welcomed inside, away from the still falling snow.

The courtyard of the college was covered in snow, but no more than it had always been. Tarrion looked around and saw how most of the snow that fell inside the bounds of the college never reached the ground.

Inside they were escorted to the library where Faralda and Tolfdir waited for them. The old man leaned heavily on a walking stick, but his spirit seemed to be as sharp as ever as he had a trembling smile on his face when he saw them. Faralda looked very different from what they remembered. They remembered her as a relatively young High Elf, though she was likely older than the rest of the College staff, with her hair in two short tails behind her head. Her clothes would be simple, with few embellishments as she preferred them practical over fancy. But now she stood in the centre of the library, her head raised with her golden hair long and flowing and tied with an elegant knot at the base of her neck. Her robes were far more beautiful than any she had ever worn and seemed far more expensive than before. They were robes fit for an Arch-Mage. Her face showed the intelligence and wisdom of many years, yet her eyes were as friendly as they had always been.

Serana and Tarrion received a warm welcome from both of them an all sat around one of the large tables in the middle of the library. Tarrion and Serana were almost forced to tell their stories of what happened to them in the last two years, and although they told the majority, they did not tell all, leaving those for another time or for themselves. It was then their turn to listen to stories and the others provided them.

Brelyna had advanced to teaching Conjuration to the newer and inexperienced students, while Phinis Gestor handled the more advanced topics. Colette was still the leading authority on Restoration in the Collge and according to her she was treated better than before. Tarrion knew that she had often felt that her colleagues were whispering behind her back about her, yet this had never been true as far as Tarrion know. Others only saw Colette as eccentric and odd… but were in no way disrespectful to her or her research. From the corner of his eyes Tarrion could see Faralda smile at him and playfully roll her eyes at Colette's notion that she had been mistreated and her research stolen. No research of Colette had ever been taken by others.. only misplaced or lost by Colette herself.

Nirya had become the Master Wizard of the College and now ran the day to day operations, assisting Faralda. Tarrion could see there was still some rivalry between the two, yet this had always been from Nirya's side only and it seemed to be more professional and about ambition than a personal grudge.

Faralda had become Arch Mage and this came as no surprise to Tarrion. It was quite common for the Master Wizard to be promoted to Arch Mage after the resignation, or death, of the previous Arch Mage and Tarrion knew Faralda was more than up to the task.

Tolfdir was still the teacher in charge of the Alteration School and despite is age, he still seemed to be doing just fine. His wrinkled face and grey hair gave away that he was long past the age at which most would retire, but everyone knew that Tolfdir would still be teaching on his deathbed.

Seeing the people that he had grown fond of all together like this and each of them seemed to be doing well brought a smile to Tarrion's face. With half of Skyrim fighting each other it was good to see that others ignored the turmoil of the outside world and continued their lives as normal as they could.

After Tarrion drank and ate from his long journey, and Serana ate with him to keep up appearances, the conversation turned more serious. All knew why Tarrion was here and Faralda was the one who asked him the most obvious question.

"What is your plan here in Winterhold?"

Tarrion coughed again before he answered. "We need to convince the Jarl not to attack any of the other holds. A simple request, but not one easily asked. I've heard that each of the Jarls vie for the throne of High King, but how does Kraldar approach this?"

Faralda nodded. "He should not take much convincing, if any at all. He has asked us if he can count on his support when he puts his claim forward, but he hasn't done much else. As far as we know he has fortified Driftshade and Fort Kastav as well we think."

She looked around and Azzar nodded. "I took that road when I travelled here, and it has been fortified."

"Did you run into any trouble there?" Tarrion asked, but Azzar shook his head.

"Nah… not really," He smiled. "I'm sure a few of them saw me.. with my skin I can't really hide in the snow, but I can blend in during nighttime."

Brelyna chuckled. "I hear you," and Azzar nodded at her.

"These two forts were to be expected," Faralda continued. "Kraldar could have fortified Fellhammer as well, but I think he is afraid that it would provoke Brina Merilis."

"We've heard rumours that the Pale and Winterhold were in the worst condition," Serana said and she turned to Tarrion. "Remember what Mjoll said?"

Tarrion nodded before Serana continued. "She said that the fighting was the worst here."

Tolfdir nodded. "True… but not with each other, so you have been misinformed on that part. Our main problems here are the Dragons. They come from somewhere near the mountains, but it is impossible to determine from where exactly."

"Mount Anthor, most likely," Tarrion remarked.

"Could be," Tolfdir answered. "but it doesn't matter since we cannot go anywhere near them. A few Dragons tried to attack the College, but we were able to repel them. When they tried to attack he town, we were ready and drove them away again."

"I thought you controlled the Dragons, Tarrion." Colette pitched in. "I know you have been away for a long time, but can you force them to listen?"

Tarrion shook his head. "They listened to me because I was the strongest of them, but I cannot force them to listen any more than you can force others to listen to you. And after more than two years of absence, another Dragon has taken control and a number of them, though not all, now follow him. I have send a message to all the Dragons. Either they stop attacking the citizens of Skyrim, or they will be killed on sight. Many refused to come and listen to that message… so they have made their choice. As for the Dragons that seem to come from Mount Anthor… I will see what I can do."

A few more things were discussed before Tarrion started to show signs of fatigue. Serana first suggested, and when that did not work she ordered him, to find a bed and rest. The others also dispersed and left for the night.

"Colette… wait!" Serana called out to the mage when Tarrion had already left. "Can I ask you for something?"

"I suppose.." Colette answered carefully.

"When we were in Windhelm a week ago Tarrion had started coughing a bit," Serana started. "On our journey here this only increased."

Serana quickly glanced at the door, making sure Tarrion would not come back, before turning to Colette again. "You're a powerful mage and an expert in healing magic. Can you check on him? To make sure he is no getting sick?"

Colette did not answer immediately, but when she did she had a smile on her face. "Of course… Of course I'll help. Good to see that my work is needed. Yes, I'll check on him as soon as I can. Of course."

She walked away with a bit more bounce in her step than before and a smile was clearly visible on her face. But Serana looked at the door that Tarrion left through, worrying more about him with every passing day.

'Half of Skyrim already depended on him. And now it turns out he was right… he is almost the only one that can bring peace… this is too much responsibility for one man. This is wrong.'

=End of Chapter=

=Author's Notes=

This chapter took me way longer than I originally planned. It had partly to do with the fact that I forgot to add characters that were supposed to be there, and then the dialogue between Tarrion and Brunwulf felt a bit off. Either too stern or too weak.

But mostly it has to do with how I'm trying to start something new in my life and pick myself back up again. I started to learn 3d-modelling in Daz and Blender. The first character I made? Serana of course :)

But that is it for this chapter. Hopefully the next will not take as long…. I will do my best.