Skyrim's Sovereign

Chapter 2

          Stepping into the bright morning sun, I blink at the blue sky above.

Not one cloud in that azure dome.

This is a beautiful day.

Climbing the stone stairs to the Cloud District, I grin at the ancient Gildergreen Tree. The pink and red flowers blossoming on its branches add to the morning's radiance.

Ascending the long staircase up to Dragonsreach, I greet the Stormcloak sentries with a salute. Recognising me, they return the salute with full vigour.

The hulking doors are opened.

I step into the Great Hall.

Sounds of whispers in the corners of this ancient castle greet my ears. Servants are peeking from behind pillars on the balconies on both sides while I continue up another set of stairs toward Whiterun's throne.

"If it isn't the Dragonborn, Saviour of Skyrim, the Stormblade who surprised us all here in Whiterun, and Harbinger of the Companions!" The old man seated in the throne chair—which was three times his size in my opinion—greeted me with a grizzled smile.

I give a nod of my chin. "Jarl Grey-Mane, it is an honour to see you again. Those are too many titles for me, just call me by my given name, please."

"Those are your given names as far as our independent Skyrim is concerned." The Jarl scratched the silver stubble on his face, smirking at my discomfort. "It's good to see you, Fenrir."

"Aye." I smile. "How's being Jarl turning out for you?"

"Well," the man coughed in his hand briefly. "It's all right. After the Battle of Whiterun, our people did well coming together and rebuilding. Thank the Divines, you were the one who led the siege or I feel the Stormcloaks would have laid waste to our beloved city."

"I don't know about that." I shrug. There were quite a few good men in my battalion that charged the gates of Whiterun. "My lord, Ulfric, ordered me to take it by force—you recall, he did send me first asking your predecessor for a peaceful alliance."

"Yes, yes," Vignar Grey-Mane bobs his old head. "I recall. Jarl Balgruuf the Greater was not so great in wisdom as he was in power."

"Aye, tis true, my friend." I chuckle—it's a bitter laugh, there is no mirth in war-torn memories. "But, now that Whiterun's Hold, along with the other eight Holds, is under Stormcloak rule and Skyrim is free from the Empire, we are free to restore our Nordic ways."

Vignar smiles at me, a twinkle in his eyes.

"Before his...stepping down...Jarl Balgruuf had granted me the title of Thane over Whiterun Hold. It was while I was Thane here, I joined the Companions and before long took old Kodlack Whitemane's place as Harbinger."

"Aye, you did." Vignar's gaze goes distant. He's remembering things from the past. "Kodlack was a good friend of mine and my brother's, Eorlund."

"Aye, Eorlund and I have a deal with each other." I grin, thinking of the elder weaponsmith who works the Skyforge over behind Jorrvaskr, the Companions' headquarters. "Whenever I uncover ancient weapons, I bring them to him and he restores them for me."

"My brother is a proud man of his work." Vignar chuckles. "So," clearing his throat, he continues my conversation. "You're coming here to query about your position as Thane of Whiterun, correct?"

"Aye." I reply, forcing my voice to sound more confident than I feel. Funny, I'm the Dragonborn, slayer of the Eater of Worlds, and yet, I'm doubting myself right now.