Survivor (A Skyrim Fan-Fiction)

Chapter Nineteen

It was a miserable and grey day in Solitude. The looming clouds grew darker as a storm was starting to form, and the streets were deserted besides the guards dotted around and a couple of merchants at their stalls.

I was sat on a bench with a book in the training yard at Castle Dour, a modest keep on the opposite side of the city to the Blue Palace. It was mostly where the business of crime and warfare was handled, with a small prison able to hold around twenty offenders at most. It was still holding some of the Imperial hostages from the war in fact.

The book I was only lightly reading was called 'Night of Tears', a study about the Snow Elves and how they slaughtered every single of the now non-existent Nedes, before Ysgramor crossed the sea with the Five Hundred Companions.

Though no matter how hard I tried to concentrate, I kept getting distracted from the ringing of steel against steel as Ulfric and Galmar sparred in the yard. Giving up, I folded the book shut and threw it next to me and decided to watch the two men fight for a while.

"You know," I directed towards Ulfric, "You should really move about more. A war axe is a relatively light weapon so you should take advantage of it. Moving quickly makes you harder to hit."

He deflected a blow and moved to Galmar's side, able to deliver a hit to the General's ribs. Of course it was only a friendly hit, it wasn't as if they were truly fighting. I couldn't imagine these two ever having a disagreement so bad it would come to this...Well, I hope it wouldn't.

"I would gladly spar with you Aemilia if you're so remarkable with a weapon. But it's without a doubt that I'd win," he smirked whilst parrying.

I laughed at his playful boasting and poor judgement of my capability. I may be an archer but I was certainly no novice with the sword.

"I will hold you to that but if you haven't noticed I'm currently carrying the heir to Skyrim, so I'm afraid I'm rather tied-up at the moment."

He shrugged and grinned before going back to fighting. A light spitting of rain began to fall and a loud rumble echoed through the sky, so I decided to head back to the palace.

Ulfric and I had been married for half a year now and for the first time in my life things felt steady and rather normal. Thinking back on the past four years, the dramatic events that will be remembered for centuries that I've been involved in, the stupendous things I have seen, and the intriguing and inspirational people I have met, I never felt or accepted to be truly happy.

But now I know that the simplest of things, and perhaps the most ordinary, can prove to be the most life-changing.

With that thought, I subconsciously stroked my growing belly as I went through the doors of the Blue Palace. It shouldn't be long now.

"Miserable day isn't it Jorleif?" I called as the door closed behind me, shutting off the rain that was now plummeting down.

"It certainly is, my lady."

"Oh come on Jorleif! How many times do I have to ask you to call me Aemilia?"

He straightened up and lifted his head slightly with a discreet smile upon his face, along with an amused gleam in his eyes.

"At least one more time, as always my lady."

For a brief couple of seconds we stood in silence, staring at each other with mutual admiration. I liked to believe Jorleif and I had this almost father-daughter relationship, though he wasn't quite old enough to claim that title for myself.

I wondered if my father was still alive, as well as my mother, back in Ivarstead. I might drag Ulfric along once the baby's born to visit them. It would be amusing to see their reaction of what I've become.