Balgruuf the Great ch 40 preview (Patreon)

**REWRITE COMPLETE**

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Cecilia

She did not know what to think of Balgruuf's sister-in-law. For one, she was a jovial and electric sort of woman.

She also was very, very loud.

As an Imperial, Cecilia knew when to put on her best foot forward when dealing with other races, generally. Certainly there were times when her cosmopolitanism was tested when she had to meet the more wilder and rowdier ones such as the woman wolfing down on a leg of goat like a particularly hungry animal might tear apart its prey after being starved for so long. Freydis was a tall woman, amazonian in body and with the same beauty to behold. Cecilia had to admit that the Nords had strong furniture to hold up the weigh of a woman in steel armor as easily as it did. Strapped on her back was a sheath, a unassuming blade resting in the scabbard.

''Sooo! You're Balgruuf's new wife, eh?'' Freydis grinned, setting down the leg and wiping away bits of meat and grease around her mouth.

''That I am,'' Cecilia confirmed, trying to wrangle the uncomfortable feeling she felt as Freydis reached for a drinking horn and drunk the ale inside in one big gulp. She sighed as she set it aside and waved at a servant to refill her horn. Cecilia took the moment to continue speaking. ''We were married just recently."

''Gods, I remember my own marriage, it was a good time to be a real Nord!'' Freydis proclaimed, her steel chest-plate glinting against the light of the Sun. They were in the Great Porch, eating their lunch. She was in the midst of it when the heavily armored woman came up and planted herself opposite of her, a plate of goat roast and potatoes in one hand and a drinking horn in the other.

''What was it like?'' Cecilia asked, a part of her having an inkling of what the rowdy woman's wedding was like. Freydis smiled and leant forward to answer, her hands and face animated as she painted a picture for Cecilia. ''Fighting, feasting, wrestling! Why, that's how Hrongar and I decided who was going to be the submissive one when we'd consummate!''

Cecilia thought of a broken mead hall, bards playing a jaunty tavern tune as the guests toasted and drank while the bride and groom went and wrestled for the party's entertainment. ''Who won?''

Freydis laughed, pulling back her sleeves and flexed. Her muscles, thick and beefy, glowed. Cecilia pursed her lips, glancing at her own arms. A part of her whispered that she too should do exercises to get muscle but she was perfectly happy with her body just as she was. ''If it's any consolation to my husband, he did get one over me after a few rounds,'' the black-haired woman declared.

''You weren't at the wedding,'' Cecilia half observed/said. Freydis' horn was filled and she drank from it. Freydis belched and grinned.  ''Ah, that's because I was doing a little quest for my brother-in-law," she revealed before glancing around and leaning in as if she was going to go and tell her about some naughty secret. ''He wanted me to find the shards of Wuuthrad, you see. There was no better woman for the job than me!''  Cecilia's eyes lit up in no small amount of interest.

''Wuuthrad?'' Freydis nodded seriously, nursing her drinking horn in her hand. ''Aye, Wuuthrad. I do not know how much you know of it but Wuuthrad was the weapon of one of the greatest of our heroes. When the ancient snow elves massacred the first Nords, only he Ysgramor and three sons escaped. They returned to their homeland of Atmora and spread the word of what had been done.'' A bloody wolfish grin decorated her features.

''Ysgramor and his sons returned with five-hundred Companions who gave the snows elves a thorough education on revenge. Every teacher needs their stick to beat the unruly students and Wuuthrad was Ysgramor's, a great battle axe of black steel and oiled with the blood of elves.''

Cecilia nodded as Freydis gave her an impromptu history lesson. Of course, she already knew about this as part of her education of Nordic culture but she deigned to let Freydis tell it anyway seeing how excited she was about it.

"And you've recovered the fragments?'' she asked, getting to business. Freydis grin turned into a smirk. ''Aye. The fragments are returned to the Companions in their hall to get it reforged. There is only one forge in all of Skyrim that is worthy for Ysgramor's axe and it is the Skyforge,'' She saw the lost look on Cecilia's face and quickly added. ''The forge right next to the Hall of the Companions, big stone eagle overlooking it. It's quite hard to miss. Now, once it has been reforged, it will be presented to Balgruuf when he returns,'' Freydis revealed as she held up a baked potato and dipped it into a bowl of sour cream. She popped it into her mouth, chewing with gusto. "So, how is he, Balgruuf?''

''He is High King now. He sent word to us to prepare Whiterun for his arrival,'' Among other things, such as increasing the security of Dragonsreach with as thrice as many guards. Now, Cecilia understood the need for extra security as he was High King but the amount of guards was ridiculous. There was also that particular message for her to scour the basements for entrances and whatnot. She found nothing there to be concerned of save for a few dozen store rooms that were empty. Now, Dragonsreach was as secure as it could be.

''So I have heard,'' Freydis said, the potato she tore into now swallowed. ''I'm speaking of him personally, and his treatment of you.'' she emphasized.

Ah.

''He certainly is a gentleman, not quite what I expected,'' Cecilia admitted. ''Though I know little of him yet, that is bound to change.''

Freydis smiled. "Balgruuf. Honorable, loyal to a fault, brave. You could have not asked for a finer husband.''

''Is his brother like him?'' Cecilia asked, curious. Balgruuf had told her sparingly of his brother. Not particularly out of any dislike but simply because there hadn't been much time for them to talk about Hrongar nor were there situations which had Hrongar as the topic of discussion. ''Balgruuf hadn't really spoken much of his brother.'

The smile on Freydis's face became strained. ''My husband..." she whispered. Cecilia would note that the Nord spoke of him on how someone might hiss on stepping a particularly sharp spike. ''He is...he is strong. But..."

While diplomatic, it did not mean that she was exempt from feeling awkwardness and the topic of her husband was something that was difficult for Freydis to stomach. "I did not mean to intrude if it is difficult for you to speak of him."

The Nord shook her head. It was disconcerting to see such a tall and physically imposing woman to look so...distressed. ''It's alright. It's just been difficult," Freydis sighed. "My husband, he was supposed to return home after the war with Balgruuf. Instead of coming home, he decided that he would rather go extend his soldiering than come back."

Cecilia nodded, taking the information in. It was not unheard of for a legionary to be at the near end of his service but then, they were suddenly thrust with something that made them extend their service. It was annoying, broke morale and certainly caused mutinies here and there. The only way to grumble legionaries with that sort of problem was incentives.

''Where is he now?''

Freydis drank from her horn for a second before responding. "In Hammerfell, helping the Redguards in their war against the Dominion."

For a fraction of a second, Cecilia's lips curled into a frown. The White Gold Concordant did not just take away from the Empire the Divine status of its legendary founder, it had also taken away the land of one of his greatest conquests. Hammerfell fought the Dominion in its own soil in the opening stages of the war and while their homes were being burnt by the forces of the Aldmeri Dominion, they had also taken the step of sending its legionarries to assist Cyrodiil. And in repayment of that, the Colovian had surrendered territories of Hammerfell to the damn elves.

The surrender of such territories were made on the Dominion argument that they were holding on to already conquered territories. If the Emperor wanted them back, he would have to push them with a Legion. Of course, that argument made sense and would have been accepted, albeit grudgingly. What didn’t make sense was the Emperor acquiescing to the Dominion demand of territories not under their occupation.

She remembered the mood of the Cyrodiilic nobility who sat and watched as the Redguards fought the Dominion on its own and enduring despite suffering the same if not more damage than Cyrodiil. It could best be described as muted shame.

The Emperor himself had relegated much affairs to the Elder Council, locking himself from the public eye.

But oh well. What was done was done and the only thing they could do now was rebuild and prepare for war, again.

”You look like someone stole your sweetroll,” Freydis remarked in amusement. Blinking, Cecilia shook her head.

”Oh, I was just thinking on some political matters. You said Hammerfell and I remembered some things.’’ she coughed into her hand. “Apologies, you said Hrongar was in Hrongar?” She blinked as Freydis gave her a bemused smile.
”You Imperials, so polite and flowery. In Skyrim,’’ she laughed. “So, you tell me first, what were you thinking?’’

”Nothing that ought to be said in polite company,” Cecilia tried to smooth. Freydis snorted. “Do I look like polite company to you? I speak to you dressed in furs and armor, bulging with muscle and carrying a sword on my back. I’m not some giggling Breton maid interested in embroidery. So, speak your mind.’’ Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Or did you think that I’m too dumb to understand you?”

’’Not in anyway at all!” she smiled hurriedly. “Then speak your piece,” urged Freydis. Cecilia tugged at her collar, clearing her throat.

’’I was just thinking on the repercussions of the White Gold Concordant, on what it would mean for the Emperor and the Empire,’’ Cecilia said, allowing herself to relax as she continued. “The Empire surrendered parts of Hammerfell to the Dominion on the argument that the Elves had occupied those places and the only way to recover those was through kicking the elves out. Since the legions were spent or seemed to be spent, it was begrudgingly done. What doesn’t make sense was the absolute folding of the Empire to the elves further demands. It makes one wonder, don’t you think?”

As Cecilia finished speaking, she saw the blank look on Freydis’s face. ‘’Perhaps you should save that conversation with Balgruuf, when he returns,’’ Freydis admitted, scratching the back of her head. “I can see why he favoured you. You have a mind for such things.’’

Cecilia smiled weakly. “Not interested in politics?’”

Freydis laughed. “Oh, by the Nine, no.” Eight, if Cecilia wanted to be technical. But since she was in the privacy of Dragonsreach, the Thalmor could take their demand and shove it. “I never had an interest in Statecraft. I tried to listen to the lessons my tutors taught me, I just could never understand it. But exercise? Swinging a hammer into a troll’s skull? It was easy to me like breathing,’’ Freydis said, flexing her muscles yet again. She sighed, taking in her drinking horn. “I wanted to be an adventurer, you know. Hrongar too. We wanted to travel the world, two warriors in a glorious adventure. But then…”

”Then?” Cecilia asked, raising an eyebrow.

’’We had Lydia,” Freydis smiled, her eyes twinkling in a certain pride only mothers could have with their children. “When I held her in my arms, she just…I came into a realization that there was something worth far more in this world than glory. Hrongar and I agreed that we would put down our swords.” She sighed, drinking. “Of course, he had to raise a weapon when war came but he promised that he would return as soon as it was over.”

”And he didn’t,” Cecilia surmised. Freydis smile turned bitter. Cecilia thought of Freydis’s situation for a moment then, she spoke up.

”It is uncommon for the Legion to extend the service of its men,” Cecilia offered. “Perhaps that is why he is in Hammerfell?”

’’He volunteered,’’ Freydis spat bitterly.

Ah.

Cecilia was no fool when it came to the lives of military families. Sometimes father, mother, her brothers would not be at home at all due to some issue in this and that. Such was the lives of military families, especially noble military families. Their first and foremost attention was to the Legion and the Empire, their own families were second. It had…it had hurt at first especially when she was younger but as she grew older, she realized and accepted that as a noble, a scion of the Tullius clan, she was going to either have to wait many nights alone as her husband would be fighting in war or she would have to live in the same situation.

If anything, it made all the time she spent with her loved ones much more special.

’’Believe me, I feel the pain that you feel, Freydis,’’ Cecilia said, bringing the taller woman out of her woes. “I am raised in the Tullius clan, a family of soldiers, statesmen. Many times, I had to grow up without seeing my parents or my brothers. Sometimes for days, sometimes for weeks. It hurt, the loneliness and the isolation.” Her tone was soft, comforting. “In those younger days, believe me when I say I grew to resent them, to resent being a Tullius. But as I grew, I started to understand something, the price of being who we are and what we are.”

”And that being?”

”We are nobles, soldiers. First servants to the Empire. We are the sword and shields of that glorious creation Tiber Septim put into motion so long ago. Our first love is that which we serve, the Empire and its people,” said Cecilia. “It was a embittering thought but it was something I grew to embrace as I was not alone in that struggle. My father and mother felt as lonely and pained as much as I did. I saw the sheer joy in my brother’s eyes when they would return home, seeing me. It made every single second I spent with them all the more worth it. I saw the love they had in their eyes.”

”So Hrongar broke his promise to return home because he loved me? Lydia?” Freydis said in disbelief. Cecilia shook her head.

’’No, he broke his promise to you because he saw what the elves had done in Cyrodiil and did not want the same thing to happen to Skyrim and by extension, you and Lydia,’’ Cecilia said. “Hear me out. If the elves win in Hammerfell, the Dominion could have a springboard to launch an invasion into High Rock or Skyrim. Hence, he fights. Do you not think he isn’t as torn as you, being so far from his home and family?”

”I…I just…I just want him home…” Freydis lamented.

Cecilia smiled. “We all do, wanting our loved ones with us. But that is the price to pay for the world that we live in. We cannot control the currents of time nor can we control the way the elves think. Hence, we must all do our duty. Our men, fighting in the war, and us the wives making sure they have a home to return to.”

”And can you handle that? The loneliness? The isolation?”

Cecilia paused for a moment to think. Then, she answered. “I will endure it. Duty is never pleasant nor it is comforting,'' Cecilia said, closing her eyes. Opening them, she stared into Freydis. ''It is bitter and laborious. A cross that only few can ever bear. But it must be carried. When has life ever been but labor? Yes, it will be lonely, times will test me but if it means that something better will come from it, if it means that there will be a better world from all my waiting? Then I shall carry that cross as much as my husband will carry his, for it must be done."

Freydis stared at her, long and hard. Then she allowed herself to smile. “Balgruuf is fortunate to have married you,” she praised her.

She smiled slightly. Then, the Nord laughed. “Well, Whiterun shall be in good hands!” Drinking her horn again, she set it on the table. “Argh, this conversation is heavy! I will go and see Lydia. Care to come?”

’’I’d be delighted to,” Cecilia smiled, standing. The two women went together, Freydis’s sword looming behind them.

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A/N: Finally. this particular story line is over. To be honest, I no satisfied how I wrote this. I had envisioned this way back then but it's only after execution that I feel I could have done this better. The point of Freydis and the Ebony Blade was to show the malevolence of Mephala, the Daedric Prince of Lies as well as to show how horrific the blade is in turning someone like Freydis, a loving athletic tomboy wife into a confusing mess of murder and kill. As a Daedra, I found Mephala to be a Daedra who'd simply start shit for the sake of it and move it to be as drama filled and murdery as possible. The juicer and senseless the drama, the more delicious it is to her.

As to why Balty didn't find the blade, it is not that he doesn't know about it or is ignoring it. He did try to find it behind the scenes and failed. The Ebony Blade has an annoying habit of vanishing and reappearing at will, always coming around into the hands of its owner hence it not being found. In the lore, a wizard had put a charm on it to make it so. That or Mephala can chuck it in and around at will.

Well, hopefully this chapter is still enjoyable to be read. Next up, it will be dealing some fallout from this then, we are getting into a timeskip.

EDIT: This chapter has been re-written for a slower approach. I realize that Mephala works best in a slow burn type of way.