Stallion of Whiterun (Skyrim Balgruuf SI) Chapter 18 (Patreon)

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Freyja Stormcloak hopped off the keel of her ship, the Foehammer, with particular flair. The second child of Hoag had plenty of reason to be happy. She had after all successfully managed to convince the East Empire Company to purchase select Easmarch goods with prices equitable for the Hold and Divines above, trying to convince the monopolists to play fair was a battle of its own. Her shoulders sagged, her brain feeling squishier than normal. She needed a bath, a good piece of bread with meat and cheese, and a good night's sleep. Around her, Windhelm Harbor was awash with commerce as ships were coming to and fro, delivering goods from all over Tamriel. Argonian dock-workers tended to their duties quietly, following around their Nordic bosses diligently. Freyja moved on, frowning slightly at the stuffiness of the traditional dress she wore. As much as she would have liked to simply negotiate with the EEC in her usual wear, the EEC agents would have probably thought she was trying to intimidate them by showing up in armor.

"Stick close to me, my lady," came the worried voice of Skadi, her housecarl. The heavily-armored warrior increased her pace, eyeing an argonian dockworker as they passed by him. The lizard looked at them quizzically, before shrugging his shoulders as he returned to work. For her part, Freyja rolled her eyes.

"We're home, Skadi. You don't have to worry about me now," Freyja giggled, patting her faithful housecarl on the shoulder.

"Still, there could be threats, you know. Assassins...thieves...murderers..." Skadi began to list off the potential threats to her person. Freyja clicked her tongue, tapping a closed fist on Skadi's chestplate.

"Stop worrying. You're making me anxious too, you know? We're home. We are safe," Freyja said calmingly. Skadi was a tall red-head, with curvy strands of hair that reached to her shoulders. Her face was covered by a spectacled-helm that covered her face but the spectacles of her helm did show off her bright green eyes. Freyja on the other hand was slightly shorter than her housecarl, with the blonde and blue eye combination atypical to most Nords. Her features were strong and beautiful, a testament to her genetic heritage of Shield-maidens and Queens.

"Yes, my lady," Skadi said hesitantly. Freyja smiled lovingly at her housecarl and friend before turning for the palace. She had much to report to her father. Chiefly, the success of her deal with the East Empire Company as well as other less than savoury things happening outside of their borders. Thinking about such things only made Freyja walk faster.

She found the Palace of Kings awash with excitement, servants coming to and fro like worker bees in a hive. She halted one and asked what was the commotion all about. The servant responded quickly, "Your brother has returned, victorious in the battlefield. He has also returned with a guest, Lord Balgruuf of Whiterun. He is speaking with your elder brother and father, my lady, as well as the Jarl of Markarth."

Freyja raised an eyebrow. The Jarl of Markarth being here was no surprise since he had gone around Skyrim asking for aid to reclaim his home. The Jarling of Whiterun being here was a surprise however. What business could he even have coming to Eastmarch of all places? "Where are they now?" Freyja asked.

"In the Jarl's study, my lady," the servant informed her before Freyja thanked him and sent him away. She then turned towards Skadi, rubbing her chin in contemplation. "So. what possible purpose do you think the Jarling of Whiterun has in coming here, Skadi?"

Skadi craned her head to Freyja, her face serious. "I have heard that Lord Balgruuf is unmarried. You, my lady, are now an eligible bachelorette. I feel you understand what I am getting at?"

Freyja's mouth went agape, as fish would in water, before she closed it again. Freyja had been married however, it went nowhere as her husband became one of the earliest casualties in the war. She hadn't really spent much time with him as it was an arranged marriage and she only really saw him a few times before the war took him away. She had thought about marrying again but there really was a few men that could match up to her pedigree, some of them a tad beyond her reach. It was floated that she marry Torygg but it was rendered moot with his betrothal to Elisif of Solitude. Now, marrying Balgruuf? That was certainly an idea to consider, the advantages present in her mind.

She shook her head. It was useless to speculate when the subject matter was present. All she had to do was get to her father and find out what was going on.

"We'll see, Skadi. Let's pay the men a visit and find out ourselves," Freyja declared as she went off to visit her father. Skadi followed dutifully.

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The study of the Jarl was connected to his bedchambers. And very much like the rest of the palace, the entire thing smelt and reeked of history. The past kings of Skyrim dwelt and planned here, Balgruuf thought, as they were shuffled into it by Jarl Hoag and his son. He rubbed shoulders with the Jarl of Markarth, Hrolfdir as well as his son, Igmund. The Jarl walked over to behind his desk and sat on it, his crown he took off his head and laid it on his desk. Ulfric took his place behind him dutifully while the guests helped themselves to the available chairs in the room.

As was his right, Jarl Hoag began the conversation.

"Here, there is no court to impress. We can speak plainly so let us do it," Jarl Hoag began, his lips thin as eh regarded Balgruuf and his Markarth guests. Jarl Hrolfdir, stress-lines and eyebags on his face, took his chance and spoke.

"Jarl Hoag. Your Hold has the finest infantry in our kingdom. I promise you, there will be great rewards for your help in reclaiming Markarth." Hrolfdir said simply, relief on his face that he could cut the needless theatrics reserved for court.

"Jarl Hrolfdir, you have seen my city and the harbor which it has. I am in no need for gold and silver," Hoag replied candidly. From behind, Ulfric watched the proceedings quietly and saw the hope drain from Hrolfdir's face. He was personally glad that of all the Holds, he didn't have to deal with a restless native population once it was his turn to lead. Oh, he had the Dunmer refugees to deal with who were arrogant as ever but even despite their smugness, the elves recognized that should they start something, they would have to go wander again. Back to his father however, Ulfric knew that he wasn't going to be motivated by silver and gold. No, Windhelm was a trade port and already enjoyed the benefits of being connected to the sea.

No, his father would be motivated by something else entirely.

He could demand that Hrolfdir agree to restore Talos worship.

But before he could whisper to his father about that, Balgruuf spoke up.

"You are in luck, then, Jarl Hrolfdir that I came here to Windhelm just for that."

Jarl Hrolfdir turned to meet Balgruuf who had now stood up from his chair, his housecarl watching quietly from the shadows. He met Hroldfir eye to eye. "My own lord father will not move his Hold to support you. As he himself had told me, he is unwilling to move his armies when a bigger war has just ended. Could you afford to wait?"

Hrolfdir shook his head. "No, Lord Balgruuf. I cannot. Time is moving fast and the damned Reachmen are trying to convince the Imperials that they can be better stewards to Markarth and the Reach. I have no doubt that the Empire will not commit political suicide by agreeing to the Reachmen but the danger is there all the same." Despite the confident tone, Balgruuf could sense a hint of fright. The Empire had already thrown their people under the proverbial bus by agreeing to the Concordat. Could the Empire be trusted to hold Skyrim's best interests by refusing to let the Reachmen take de jure Nordic territory or would their desire for peace and stability outweigh the interests of the Nords?

With this in mind, Balgruuf could understand Hroldir's anxiety. "The Empire is busy in repairing the damage done to it from the Great War. So, I can understand why they cannot spare the Legion to restore your throne. However, I am currently not busy and I know plenty of veterans who might not be opposed to making some extra cash to spend."

Hrolfdir glanced at Balgruuf, eyeing the young Jarling critically. The war had made plenty of heroes and Balgruuf was one of them. If he could rally veterans to his banner then he could create an army of battle-hardened and experienced men. Adding to what remained of his forces and mercenaries under his employ, it would certainly add an edge in reclaiming his home. Hroldfir wasn't a fool however. By relying on others, he was allowing himself to be influenced by them. His own Hold guards wanted to go home. The mercenaries wanted money, as was their lot. What would Balgruuf want?

"And your conditions for your help?" He asked plainly.

"How much silver do you have?" Balgruuf quizzed him. Hrolfdir hesitated, turning to his son Igmund. His heir sighed and nodded.

"5000 tons of silver are mined in a year, my lord. Add that amount to how long my family has controlled Markarth." Hrolfdir said, pausing to let the number sink in with Balgruuf and the Windhelm men. As the men did their calculations, Balgruuf was the first to speak.

"Ysmir's beard," Balgruuf swore.

"That is no small sum," Hoag muttered. He had to agree with Balgruuf's swearing. Everyone knew and heard of Markarth's riches in terms of silver. Cidnha Mine for example produced most of Skyrim's silver.

"And you are all willing to let the Reachmen control that?" Hrolfdir muttered. "My family has served Skyrim and the Empire faithfully. Jarl Hoag, are you really going to let our kingdom's wealth fly off to be a realm of savages? Reclaiming it is not just in the best interest of my family but for Skyrim as well!"

"How has the Reach not made silver worthless?" Balgruuf asked, his curiosity taking ahold of him.

"Through strict control of the flow of silver, Lord Ulfric," Igmund answered for his father. "We meticulously make sure that a steady export of silver leaves the Reach. If we even let a more than the appropriate amount leave, it could debase the worth of silver not just in Skyrim but also in Tamriel. The effects could be disastrous."

"I suppose I must commend your family's sense to not fall into greed," Balgruuf praised the Markarth men.

"There is a reason why my house has remained Jarls of the Reach for so long, Lord Balgruuf," Hrolfdir said, shrugging his shoulders. "Ask what you wish of me, I will reward twice over."

As the men continued to discuss, there was a knock on the door. Jarl Hoag turned to it. "Open," he commanded, thoughts of silver ingots hidden behind his mind. It swung open carefully and a his heart warmed as the face of his daughter entered.

"Father, I've returned," Freyja announced. The other men quickly stood a little straighter at the presence of the lady. His daughter acknowledged them with a nod, her gaze on Balgruuf a little bit longer than on the others. This, Hoag saw and took note of with interest. His daughter continued to speak. "My mission to Solitude was a success, my Jarl. I also bring news from outside Skyrim as well."

He nodded. A favourable trade deal with the EEC was good for his city and people. As for news from outside the kingdom, he would love to hear it. He gave the men in the room a quick glance. "Would you men like to hear of it as well? It could be important for all of us." He offered. And they could use quick respite from all their politicking.

The Markarth-men nodded.

"Go ahead, my lady," Balgruuf gently prodded.

Freyja gave Jarl Hroldir and his son a pitying look. "The Emperor will be dispatching his son, Prince Castor Mede as well as a delegation from the Elder Council to Skyrim, Jarl Hrolfdir. Apparently, it is to oversee the Markarth issue."

Silence fell in the room.

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A/N: DUn dun dunnn.