Stallion of Whiterun (Skyrim Balgruuf SI) Chapter 6 (Patreon)

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They returned like heroes of old, fresh from conquest.

The banners of the Stallion flew proudly, the citizens of Whiterun out in full cheer as the caravan rolled in. At its head, Balgruuf preened and waved as all articles of joy were tossed at his feet. Colorful flowers were allayed before their path, cries of his return carried high into the sky. Their cries were more exuberant then as Balgruuf nodded and from the caravan train, his men opened chests and shamelessly tossed septims for the crowd to catch. Blatant bribery, Irileth snorted, as the citizens all helped themselves the the bounty.

But not all were ecstatic at the gold. There were things far more precious, more valuable than that.

"Father! Brother! Son! Mama!" were such cries the came from the crowds. Nords who were away from home for five years now returned. Still, the men kept their discipline as the marched through the streets. They were not given leave by their chief to break discipline yet and even despite the naked want of them to return home, the men respected Balgruuf greatly.

And so, the family members of the soldiers would have to wait until they finished their marching, towards Dragonsreach. The city was rich, prospering from its location at the centre of Skyrim. Through that, Whiterun earned revenue from taxing the routes. Irileth lost count of how many shops and stalls and peddlers their band passed. Her senses feasted on shops that revealed what Whiterun could offer. Fine jewellery, tools. Fine wool and pottery. Hides, and fish, and game caught from the plains. Cheeses of from goats, from cows, or even mammoths. Ale and mead houses aplenty dominated the streets, a culture like the Nords would not go without their spirits. Many were handing out free mugs, courtesy of their men's return and many were helping themselves to that rich bounty.

"It's almost as if we won the war," Irileth whispered. Balgruuf kept his face cheerful as he waved, only keeping his voice level enough for Irileth to hear. "We did not lost it either," her ears picked up his reply. "Let them enjoy themselves, before the bad news hits them."

There was a commotion from the front as a woman rushed forward, a bundle of something in her hands. Balgruuf's guards reacted immediately, their hands reaching for their swords. Irileth too would have brought her sabre out if it wasn't for the fact that the bundle was crying. "Hold!" Balgruuf cried out as the woman stopped, freezing. The noise of celebration died down as the woman realized that she was doing something stupid, her face turning pale as the guards moved to surround her but Balgruuf called out again. "Let her come!"

And so they parted and gave way for her to approach. Hesitantly, the woman walked up to Balgruuf, the bundle tight in her hands. Balgruuf astride his saddle offered her a look of supreme grace, his helmet he took off and let hang from his saddle-bags.

"My lord," the woman muttered as she stopped before Balgruuf. She would not bow however for that was not their way. Nords never bow. She instead saluted him. Awkwardly thanks to the babe that was in her hands but still, she tried.

"How may I help you, kinswoman?" Balgruuf asked kindly. The woman nodded, seeing her chance.

"I would ask, my lord, that you bless my child, Aela!" she asked graciously as she held up her baby. Balgruuf chuckled in amusement as a pair of bright-red eyes looked up at him, without fear. In fact, Balgruuf felt like he was being challenged. And Aela? That name rung familiar to him. His mind thought of that Companion in a future that would hopefully not come of a fiery huntress.

"She has strong eyes. She will make a good hunter," Balgruuf said kindly, putting away his thoughts. He nodded as he then spoke grandly. "I bless you, child, with all the wishes of my House. Grow strong, grow proud for your mother, for your Hold, and for Skyrim!" He ended his sentence with a boom, a grand acclamation that surely would have reached even far Alinor. That was the point, Balgruuf thought. Let the Dominion and its Thalmor slave-holders hear their cries for there in front of him was a newborn, one of countless thousands that will grow strong and kick their arrogant pompous asses back into the dirt.

When they grew older.

The mother smiled grandly, putting the child Aela back onto her breast. She cooed gently to her, patting her on the nose. "You heard that, Aela? You're going to be a hunter."

And with that, Balgruuf nodded and bid the column to advance, to the cheer of the crowd. They marched up, from the Plains District which was the name of their current district. Whiterun had three of them; the Plains, Wind, and Cloud districts. Their names given so after the three levels of hills that each district occupied. They were now in the Plains District, where most of the city's lower-classes lived and where most of its commerce was conducted. They will pass soon through the Wind district where most of the residences and temples were and then finally, the Cloud District.

To the sky.

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"And so, you both have returned," came the grand and martial voice of Jarl Heorot, the man whom Whiterun called Jarl. Balgruuf and Hrongar said nothing as they halted before thrones, their armor clinking as they did so. They regarded him carefully, this old Jarl. He was dressed moderately, a rich red robe with a few decorations save for a golden belt and a crown with the insignia of a horse. "Like warriors of old," added another voice. At the Jarl's side was his wife, the Lady Wealhtheow. Kind was her eyes and matronly was her spirit. She smiled broadly and openly, uncaring how she looked.

The interior of Dragonsreach was what Irileth exactly had in mind of a Nordic court. They were in the grand Hall. Frescoes and mosaics were carved onto tall pillars. At the very centre, a great hearth that provided much of the warmth for the room. The grandest decoration however was the massive dragon skull that hung above the throne of the Jarl. Balgruuf once told her that was the skull of Numinex, a dragon an ancestor had slain and bones kept as trophies.

Nords, she shook her head.

"We have returned, father," Balgruuf spoke up. "And with honors and gifts from the battlefield and from the Emperor." He looked up and turned around, nodding. At that, men marched in carrying extensive chests. It clinked with each step. The halted before the throne and lowered their cargo. They were opened and the court whispered at the sheer amount of shine from them. Gold, gold aplenty. The Emperor was generous. But there too were others. Spoils of war that Balgruuf and Hrongar earned from the battlefield.

"Rich in splendour, indeed." hummed the Jarl. He stood up to his full height, earning a hush in the court's murmurs. "And so, I declare that there will be feasting tonight in Dragonsreach! Do not eat and drink, kinsmen, because you will all be eating from my larders later!" Great cheers were earned from the thanes, the houscarls and other nobles who were in the court. Why would they not when they were eating for free. He turned away from them and to his sons who he then bid to approach. The two men did and were promptly brought into a massive hug.

To which the court cheered some more, as Lady Wealhtheow joined in. From where she stood, Irileth heard the Jarl's quiet whispers of thanks that his sons had returned. His sons said nothing, merely letting themselves be drawn into the embrace. The way that they held onto their father and mother, that was all Irileth needed to know how the felt about everything. 

"Where is he? Where is my damned fool of a husband!" the voice of a woman cried. Hrongar glanced up, his face shining in familiarity at the voice. A cry of pure joy left his lips, his eyes as bright as stars as a woman rushed up. The dress she wore did little to hide the absolutely exercised body underneath. She looked like she belonged in the battlefield, not in the court. Behind her, a gaggle of ladies followed. The handmaidens, Irileth realized. Her eyes however settled on the small child, black of hair, with them.

If things weren't even more sweet, it became more so as the woman ran up, her dress be damned, into the arms of Hrongar. Laughter, musical and light, left their lips as they hugged and embraced, the longing of five years finally poured out in a moment of breathless delight. They stayed connected for what seemed like forever before they finally pulled back and in one swift moment, kissed each other. 

"Eyyyyyy!" the court cheered, touched at the reunion. From where he stood, Balgruuf finally pulled himself from the hug of his parents and turned towards Hrongar, smirking. He walked up to them, the Jarl and his wife following closely behind. The two pulled away from their kiss, looking into each other's eyes with passionate love until finally, they felt Balgruuf approach. The woman's eyes widened and quickly, she saluted Balgruuf in the Nordic way, a closed fist to the chest. "Hail, kinsman," the woman greeted Balgruuf. The Jarling returned the salute as to which she continued to speak. "Welcome home to Skyrim, my lord. And thank you for watching over my damned fool of a husband," said she, grinning as she held Hrongar close to her. 

"It is what I do, Freydis," Balgruuf said, giving a name to her. "I was loaning him from you after all," 

"Damn right you were," huffed Freydis, she turned away from Balgruuf and up to Hrongar, her eyes shining with love. "It's also about time you saw your daughter," she said softly. Hrongar's eyes widened then as the handmaidens walked up, leading the child from earlier. Freydis pulled away to let Hrongar go. The bigger Nord knelt, his face the epitome of gentleness. The child regarded him cautiously, hugging the handmaiden's legs tight and long. 

"Hello, little one," Hrongar greeted her. The girl's lips quivered as she looked towards her mother. Freydis smiled assumingly, telling her that it was alright. With that encouragement, the girl turned towards Hrongar and took a step forward. A little braver now, Irileth saw. "...Papa?" the girl asked, looking at Hrongar. The smile on his face spoke volumes of how much he was touched. "Yes. Yes, I am your papa," Hrongar whispered. "My name is Hrongar. What is yours?" he asked her. 

"Lydia," she replied, her voice finding strength now. "My name is Lydia." 

"Lydia is a beautiful name. It is a strong name," Hrongar said, nodding. "You are going to be just like your mama when you grow older, Lydia. Big, strong, and beautiful," he praised her. The child giggled and the sound of it was like the smoothest music to Hrongar's ears. Then, Lydia spoke again. "Mama says you were away because you had to fight the bad men. Did you win, papa?" 

A pained look flashed across Hrongar's eyes. From where he stood, Balgruuf too battled in keeping his face neutral. Hrongar however, smiled. "Yes. We won." he lied. 

"So...you are home now? No more fighting the bad men?" Lydia asked curiously. 

"Yes, Lydia. I am home. No more fighting the bad men," Hrongar nodded. Lydia glanced up at him, as if her eyes were trying to see the truth in his words. It went on for a minute until finally, Lydia nodded in satisfaction. She crossed her arms cutely, pouting. "Good. Mama misses you. I miss you." she added in childish imperiousness. 

"I won't leave you and her ever again, Lydia. I promise," Hrongar vowed.

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A/N: UPdooooot