Stallion of Whiterun (Skyrim Balgruuf SI) Chapter 17 (Patreon)

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"He has a strong face," Irileth commented, the clip-clopping of horses mixing with boot-steps against the snow crusted road. Balgruuf turned to glance at who Irileth was looking at and appraised the man, Ulfric. The man that would have plunged Skyrim into Civil War was at this time, young. His hair was a blonde that was common to most Nords, with eyes of deep blue that would turn piercing in one second to a certain wistful longing the next. His armor was regal, a thick plate suit with a blue sash across the chest, two doublets at the front depicting a roaring bear in the left one and the Imperial Dragon at the right. 

"Kingly too," Balgruuf suggested. They had set off from Amol immediately, Ulfric leaving behind a token force to clean up the mess left behind. For the duration of it, Ulfric lead the column with his dour-faced Housecarl trailing behind him. The Whiterun contingent rode a little behind the Windhelm men, considering that they were in their territory. Irileth turned to Balgruuf, eyebrow raised. 

"Kingly? My lord, I hope you are not planning to change your mind?" Irileth questioned, knowing what Balgruuf had in store for the future. The Jarling of Whiterun shook his head. 

"Oh no. I was only saying," Balgruuf answered with a shrug. "Besides, I am grounded enough to recognize when others are simply built different. I am not the only one here who can inspire men and lead them to battle, you know. The only difference is the color of our armor and personality," 

Irileth hummed. "Is this humility, my lord? It does not suit you," 

Balgruuf snorted. "Humility, my ass. It simply is a man acknowledging another man, you know?" His eyes looked ahead as his voice turned soft, soft that only Irileth could hear. "There can only be one king though, and that would be me." 

Inside his mind, Balgruuf had no doubt that he had what it took to lead. In true honesty, he had no qualms about playing second fiddle to someone. He had Whiterun, he had Irileth. Really, what more could anyone want? The issue however lied in the fact that he lived in a time where he could not count on another to lead Skyrim well, knowing what was ahead. Oh, Ulfric was strong but he had as of yet unconfirmed ties to the Thalmor. He wasn't going to follow a man who could betray them in the future. Really, if Ulfric wasn't suspect, he would have happily guided the young man away from his disastrous future self and moulded him into a more acceptable ruler. There too was Torygg in Solitude. He could spend time with the young man, influence him as easily Ulfric did in a future that would no longer exist. But he did not know Torygg well and what he knew of Torygg, the young man was a cookie-cutter snoozefest as High King, merely content in keeping business going and lacked the personality and the drive to be a leader worth following. 

And thus, that left only him. 

His thoughts were interrupted as Irileth whispered. "My lord, a rider approaches." 

Balgruuf glanced up as Ulfric's housecarl at the head of the column reared back, trotting towards him. He saluted swiftly. "My lord wishes that you join him ahead, Lord Balgruuf." Galmar rumbled, his voice deep. "He apologizes for not inviting you earlier. Business relating to the Hold was discussed," 

Balgruuf replied with a wave of his hand. "Apologies are not required. I will happily ride alongside your lord, Housecarl." 

For Ulfric, the coming of horses signalled to him that the Elfsbane was coming close and as he turned, he saw the brown-clad Jarling of Whiterun approach, his housecarl quietly shadowing him under her dark hood. 

"My lord Ulfric," Balgruuf greeted him. To Ulfric, Balgruuf's voice was something he still needed to come to terms with. He spoke warmly and gently, the tone a relaxed man would use greeting a friend. He did not change his voice whether or not he was talking to him or to his own soldiers. His expression too, it was like he was greeting an old friend with how much his eyes shone with life. 

"I wish you entered Eastmarch on a different road and saw its beauty first rather than its men putting the rabble in their place," Ulfric apologized. He felt awkward that the first thing Balgruuf saw was them cleaning up house. It was not a good look for any ruler to have their fortifications occupied anyway. 

"The war has left our garrisons short, my lord. Your father is not the only one whose Hold will find places beset by bandits or rabble," Balgruuf offered. "In Whiterun, a ruined fort was occupied by a necromancer and her followers. No longer, though." 

His explanation offered Ulfric a way out of looking like a bumbling defender, if everyone was experiencing it then really, he shouldn't be worried of how the Hold would look. This, Ulfric saw and took with a nod. "And this necromancer, where is she now?" he asked. 

"Rotting in a cell. She surrendered before my men and I could gut her. It felt distasteful to murder a surrendered enemy, even if they are a filthy necromancer," Balgruuf answered with a shrug. "I am thinking of killing her anyway. But, a trial first. Laws make us different from men." 

"Why bother to put her in a trial when she will die anyway?" Ulfric asked. He already knew why. Laws established authority and stability. Necessary for any ruler to have. He was still interested to hear from Balgruuf regardless. 

"To establish authority, stability. The war is over and the common peasant to the highest king wants stability. The need for Martial Law is over," Balgruuf answered. Ulfric grasped that reasoning quickly "And as I said, we aren't animals. What is the point of law and order if we do not abide by them?" 

"Should laws be followed to the latter, then? For example...it is law now that worship of Talos is banned," Ulfric asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. Balgruuf eyed him carefully. 

"As a loyal servant of the Empire, I am bound to follow it," Balgruuf began robotically. It turned the more he spoke however. "But, really, how in Oblivion is the Empire going to enforce that? The war has just ended, Cyrodiil is in ruins and the Emperor will need to repair his homebase. You and I, all of us, we fought in Cyrodiil. We saw how much the Dominion ruined it." 

Ulfric sat a little bit straighter, his interest rising as Balgruuf spoke. 

Balgruuf shook his head. "No, it is unenforceable. Faith cannot be stamped out, no matter how hard the Dominion might try. I assure you, scores of our people are still praying to Talos privately. By Ysmir, even I do it." 

The frank and honest delivery of Balgruuf caught Ulfric off guard. "You still worship him?" He asked. 

"Well, of course. Privately for obvious reasons. Just because we cannot do it in public doesn't mean we cannot do it in private. As long as someone isn't foolish enough to demand Talos worship be made public again, this is a reality our people will have to live with." 

"But you cannot expect us to live through with this arrangement forever, my lord," Ulfric said quickly, his voice rose as he spoke, irritation coursing through him. "Faith as you say is something that cannot be stamped. This is our country, no? Our Empire? Should we hide what we are in our own home?" 

He took a breath, calming himself down. 

"The Emperor...our people gave our lives to defend the Empire. And he repaid it by signing the damned treaty," he lamented, bitterness in his voice. Ulfric's arrival towards his homeland did not come with the joy of victory. They should have won. The ought to have won. But no. The sacrifice of his people at the Red Ring was hollow and forgotten by the Emperor. He who should have honored them for their blood, sweat, and tears instead took away the worship of the Ninth Divine, Talos Stormcrown and son of Atmora and Skyrim. The founder of the Empire...made illegal to worship. 

Balgruuf did not say anything, letting the silence of Ulfric's bitterness carry on in the air. Finally, he spoke. 

"What is the price of peace?" He suddenly asked. 

Ulfric considered the question. And after a moment's thought, he gave his reply. "It depends if we are the one attacking or defending," he answered. That answer seemed fair, Ulfric reasoned. 

"And what would we have done if we were in the Emperor's shoes?" Balgruuf drawled out. "Consider this, the Empire is at war for five years. Cyrodiil is ruined and the Imperial City is a mess. Hammerfall's coasts are occupied. High Rock and Skyrim are untouched but far. The Legion has been battered and the enemy's strength is yet undetermined." 

Ulfric considered the question, his mind calculating what he would have done. He was no fool. He knew what the situation in Cyrodiil was like. He saw it. "I...Cyrodiil cannot be expected to carry on the war. Taxes would have to be raised on High Rock and Skyrim to fund the war effort.." 

"There is also the fact that the Navy is impotent at the moment. Anvil, the home of the Navy, fell to the Dominion. We would have no ships to carry us to the Summerset Isles. Yes, the Dominion may have lost armies at land but their Navy is still strong." Balgruuf added. "We could have invaded Elsweyr or Valenwood but really, do you seriously think that with how much Cyrodiil was burning, that invasion could have been supported well?" 

Ulfric's mind grasped at what Balgruuf was pointing at. "Skirmishes then. Raiders entering Valenwood and Elsweyr. And the remaining Legion to support the Redguards in Hammerfell." He attempted, thinking about a way to continue the war. It made sense to Ulfric that raiders ought to have been sent in to harass the Dominion's territory while the regular army went to relieve the Redguards. 

"Indeed, small forces could have been sent to raid the Dominion holdings in Elsweyr and Valenwood and perhaps the Legion could be sent to aid the Redguards but the problem remains, how will those soldiers be supported? And even if we could move the Legion to Hammerfell, who would be left to defend Cyrodiil?" Balgruuf shook his head, gripping the reins of his horse. "I feel that the Emperor should have asked for a ceasefire or a white peace. His mistake was getting desperate and giving in to the demands of the Dominion. He ought to have remained strong on his position, no matter how much the Dominion threatened to resume the war." 

"And how exactly could the Emperor have done that? Cyrodiil is ruined, no? That would simply mean armies staying in a husk of a province, its resources drained by inactive forces. At least in attacking, something could be achieved." Ulfric said, pointing out a flaw in Balgruuf's argument. 

"I say that, my lord, because it would expose a weakness on the Dominion. They claimed still to have armies left after we smashed them in the Red Ring. If they would have refused a ceasefire then they would be forced to play their hand and reveal what forces they had," Balgruuf reasoned. Ulfric listened closely. One of the reasons spread out for the Concordats acceptance was the Elves still having armies to use. Balgruuf continued. "Would they empty Valenwood, Elsweyr and the Summerset Isles simply to gain victory? I do not think that the Wood Elves and the cat-folk would tolerate the High Elves sacrificing their generations nor would I feel the High Elves would empty their precious Isle of armies and let it be threatened by the Sea Elves. No, they would have been forced to accept a white peace."

Ulfric thought of Balgruuf's assessment. He had to admit he felt impressed at the Whiterun Lord's thinking. "Then...why did the Emperor not demand a White Peace?"

"Desperation," Balgruuf said simply. "War exhaustion. For Cyrodiil, they have been fighting for years. For Skyrim and High Rock, we might as well just be newcomers." 

"A choice of being cooked in a pan or burning in a fire," rumbled the Jarling of Windhelm. The dejection in his heart worsened. "...Then what do we do now? Accept this new reality with a whimper?" He asked bitterly. It seemed that their situation was hopeless. 

"Absolutely not." Balgruuf laughed. Ulfric glanced up, turning to the Elfsbane. He seemed cheery despite their situation. "You forget, my lord, that we have the benefit of peace and time to once again grow our strength. Let us heal our lands and our people...then when we have grown again, when we are stronger again...who knows what could happen? I intend to make the best of it." 

"For what?" Ulfric asked. 

Balgruuf's smile reached his eyes. "Season Unending." 

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A/N: Updoot.