Duel

The first War Council took place two days after our arrival near Kynesgrove, once the camp was halfway built. The men were already practicing drills, the cavalry was putting horses through their paces while siege equipment was being moved into marshalling areas. Having the high ground, it was going to be rather easy to start lobbing whatever we wanted into Windhelm, if it came to that. The hills surrounding Windhelm was all full of Empire weaponry, while the roads were blocked by ballista. There was no two ways about it.

The Stormcloaks were trapped.

Then General Tullius turned his attention to me. "Dragonborn, we would like to at least attempt negotiations with Jarl Ulfric before any contemplation of invasion. I would like you present."

I expected the request but still had to ask, "Why?"

"I don't know the man very well, but Rikke does. And she believes your presence will draw him out. He'll be itching for revenge after what you did to his army at Whiterun. For how you managed to take Riften from under his nose. And there's no doubt he's still seething after that peace conference we had all so long ago."

"Draw him out how, though? Surely he won't give up the safety of his walls."

"He knows they can't last in there forever. They're completely cut off. We've all heard the rumours and read reports about the situation behind the walls. He may care little for the Dunmer, but once Nords start dying of starvation, then he'll have an uprising on his hands and the people will demand an end to hostilities."

I looked at Rikke. "You know Jarl Ulfric well?"

She nodded. "Aye. We fought together against the Thalmor. Despite what many around this table may think, Ulfric is an honourable man. He is a firm believer in all Nordic customs, particularly those regarding battle. And I have feeling he'll want to fight you, Dragonborn. Perhaps match the power of your Voice against his."

"He won't win, then."

"I don't care how it's done. I just want this over," Tullius stated.

"Can we not infiltrate?" asked the General of the Army.

Tullius looked at me. I shook my head. "No. There is an access tunnel, but it's certainly not large enough to send even a company of men through."

"So the only way is through the front gates? Give us a chance, and we'll have those down in no time. The walls are another proposition entirely, though," explained the General of the Artillery.

"Are we aware of any other armies still in the field?" asked the General of the Cavalry.

Rikke shook her head. "Nothing to be overly concerned about. There are still camps dotted around Eastmarch, and there are rumours of one or two near the border to the south. We're talking no more than 50 men per camp. Effectively, it would be guerrilla warfare, but they would have few supplies and would certainly have little to no contact with any command structure. Windhelm is it. Once we take the city, we'll simply mop the rest up or they'll just throw down their weapons and go home."

"If you want to try negotiation, then I'll attend the meeting," I stated, "Though where would it take place?"

"Ulfric won't want to leave the city, though I'm sure we could convince him to at least meet us halfway. Perhaps on the bridge?" Rikke wondered.

"We should send an emissary, see if he's willing to talk," Tullius stated.

"At once, General."

Rikke disappeared, leaving me with the Generals, so I asked to speak to General Tullius alone. Once we had the tent to ourselves, we sat at the table as the General wondered what was on my mind. "I've been thinking about what Legate Rikke mentioned regarding Jarl Ulfric."

"Which part? The bit where he was honourable. I'm inclined not to believe that," he stated, I thought slighter harsher than expected.

"Don't take this the wrong way, General, but you're an outsider to these parts. Talk to my Companions and you'll understand what it means to be a Nordic warrior, how we fight with honour, bravery and want nothing more than glory in battle. And I can only say one thing about Ulfric. If we kill him as a criminal, you will only make him a martyr."

Tullius was quiet for a few moments, obviously thinking, before saying, "Okay, Dragonborn, you obviously have a suggestion. I'm willing to hear you out."

"I'm not sure what will happen, but when it comes to the end, Ulfric must be treated with honour and respect. He is a Jarl. He is a hero to the people of Skyrim, at least before this civil war. Even those who support the Empire may still respect the man, may even sympathise with what has happened. You call him a traitor. Very well. But if we simply kill him and be done with it, then this won't be over. Thousands will continue to fight in his name."

"He should hang. If not hang, then he should have his head on the chopping block. We missed our chance at Helgen to end this bloody war."

"Things have changed since then, General. If we did that now, it would look like the Empire was just taking bloody vengeance. That's why I suggest we treat him like a defeated Nordic Jarl. He has to die, make no mistake about that. But have him die by the sword in battle, not as some common criminal. And once that is over, ensure he is treated with dignity afterwards. Afford him the rights of a Jarl in death. That will only make the people think the Empire does care about our customs."

"You've given this a lot of thought, Dragonborn."

I shrugged. "I am only thinking of how I want to be treated if I were to die in battle. I don't want to be buried in a mass grave. Or even buried in the ground. I want a pyre built and my body burned as it is sent to Sovngarde. Do that for Ulfric, and the people behind those walls will at least respect us for respecting them."

He fell silent again, deep in thought. Then he nodded. "Very well. Let me think about it, but it will also depend on his attitude if we manage to get him to talk to us. I think he will talk, but I'm not confident at all that he'll surrender. I want him to. Everyone wants him to. But if Ulfric has proven to be anything, it's stubborn."

I received a message later that day. Ulfric had met with our representatives and, I think to everyone's surprise, agreed to a meeting. It would take place the next day, once the sun had risen over the bridge leading into Windhelm. There would only be three representatives of the Empire. General Tullius, as the Military Governor of Skyrim, and basically the man in charge without a High King. Legate Rikke, as his second in command, and being an old friend of Ulfric, hopefully a calming influence. And then me. I wasn't sure how he would react to my presence. I assumed Tullius thought it may strike fear into the man. I wasn't so sure…

It was bitterly cold the next morning, a cold front having moved in during the evening, covering everything in a fresh blanket of snow. Once I'd dressed in armour, I covered myself in my big fur coat before finally exiting the tent, Serana still huddled in her bed roll under a mountain of furs. I met the General and Legate in the large tent, the General looking as miserable as the weather, though the Legate didn't appear bothered by the change in conditions.

"Well, we definitely can't fight in this," the General muttered as we shared a quick breakfast, "I just hope this doesn't make Ulfric confident he can dictate terms."

"A bit of snow doesn't change the reality on the ground, sir," Rikke said.

"I doubt the conditions in Windhelm are any better too," I added.

There wasn't much more discussion, the three of us alone with our thoughts as we chewed on the last of our bread and cheese. One of the subordinates eventually popped their head through the tent flap, announcing it was time. A small crowd had gathered as our horses were led towards us. There was no cheering or anything like that. People were just observing what was going on, one or two people giving last minute opinions on what we should say. I don't think anyone believed peace was achievable. At least, not yet.

Men had already been out, clearing the roads, the banks of snow to either side at least six to eight foot. We rode in single file, approaching the row of ballista that watched the bridge with interest, the men operating the machines standing to the side and saluting as we passed. Dismounting as we reached Windhelm stables, we tied up the horses and stood in a line, the three of us looking ahead at the city gates. Only upon them opening did we start walking forward together.

I recognised Ulfric immediately, and the man to his left. I couldn't remember, but I think his name was Galmar. I muttered that to Rikke, who said my memory was correct. As for the third, I had no idea.

"His name is Yrsarald Thrice-Pierced. He's always been one of Ulfric's closest friends and confidants. I wouldn't be surprise if he commands the forces that remain in the city," Rikke said quietly.

Meeting at the middle of the bridge, no more than a couple of feet apart, we looked at each other in silence. As agreed, none of us were armed, or at least I know the three of us were. I didn't think Ulfric would break the agreement. Killing us without a weapon would not be honourable.

"General Tullius, what brings you to my city?"

"You know exactly why we're here, Jarl Ulfric. Surrender now, and perhaps you'll spare your city from imminent destruction."

"Windhelm has stood for thousands of years, General. We have no need to fear you."

"What about me?" I asked, "Or if not me, what about my friends you met on the outskirts of Whiterun?"

Ulfric was quiet for a few seconds. Neither Galmar nor Yrsarald looked ready to add anything to the conversation, making do with just glaring at all three of us. I guess they were trying to be intimidating. Finally, Ulfric just smirked. "While your friends would prove to be a concern around Riften, Windhelm is made of stone. I think they'd find it rather difficult to burn down."

"Surrender now, Ulfric, and at least your men won't be put to the sword," Tullius demanded.

"You're welcome to try, General. Though you won't find Windhelm as easy as the rest. In fact, I'm rather confident no Imperial soldier will set foot in my city."

"Ulfric, be reasonable. Please," Rikke stated, "Think of all the civilians in your walls. Think of the women and children not involved in this fight. Do you want them to die too? And what of the Dunmer? What of the disease and starvation? Your city is cut-off, Ulfric. If we wanted, we could just sit back and wait for all of you to die. Where is the honour in that?"

"I'm surprised you remember what honour is, Rikke."

"That's not fair, Ulfric, and you know it. Just remember you once wore this uniform, and wore it with pride. I know you don't have that short a memory. I am loyal both to my homeland and the Empire. It is you…"

"Rikke," I stated quietly, meeting her eyes. She returned my look and nodded.

"Unless you have anything else to add, General. We're done here. You're welcome to try and take my city."

"I have a proposition for you, Jarl Ulfric."

He looked at me in silence for a few seconds before finally stating, "I'm all ears, Dragonborn."

"You would like this war over, sooner rather than later, correct?"

"Of course, though only once the Empire has been kicked out of my homeland."

"That's not going to happen anytime soon considering current circumstances. Can you at least be realistic to see your position?" Silence again, before he simply nodded to continue. "My proposition is this. Meet me in single combat. The leader of the rebellion against the Dragonborn."

"Dragonborn, wait a minute…"

"Hear me out, General," I stated, returning my attention to Ulfric, who appeared interested, "We meet on this bridge at noon any day of your choosing. Only one person may accompany us, carrying our weapon and or shield. If I win, your city is forfeit and the war is over."

"If you win?"

"If I win, that means you are dead, Jarl Ulfric."

"And if I win?"

"You can meet my legion in battle. There is a field not far from here where the remnants of your army can face my troops. Then it is up to you and your men to prove victorious."

"I could still die."

"But you would die in battle, Jarl Ulfric. You would die with honour and courage, having already slain the Dragonborn. Sovngarde would sing songs of your victories."

He remained quiet again, deep in thought. "May I have time to think about this?"

I looked at the General. I thought he was going to disagree. Instead, he just nodded. "You have one day, Ulfric, to consider the Dragonborn's terms."

"Very well. I will send an emissary when I have made my decision."

There were no farewells, Ulfric and his two companions turning and walking away. The three of us watched them for a few seconds before we turned and walked back to camp. "You'd better win, Dragonborn," the General muttered once we were back on our horses.

"Do you think he'll accept terms?" Rikke wondered.

"Definitely. I'd better tell the wife."

Serana wasn't surprised one little bit. In fact, I think she expected it. "And I guess you want me to accompany you when he chooses to face you?"

"Of course. I'll fight much better if you're there."

She laughed at that. "If you say so, Ragnar." Then she hugged me and whispered, "You'd better not die on me."

"Have a little confidence."

Still hugging me, she leaned back and looked me in the eyes. "I have the utmost confidence in your abilities, Ragnar. But you are not going to leave me here alone. Promise me that."

"I promise."

We spent the rest of the day going over possible attack plans. Ulfric was right about one thing. The entire city was made of stone, and it would take a long time to break down those walls. Even the gates were intimidating, and would take a lot of force to finally break them down. Even my Voice wouldn't be powerful enough. I could call in a dragon friend, but while he could burn a few things inside the city, people included, we knew it would be a long siege. And a lot of people would die, particularly once the gates were open and we poured through.

I didn't sleep well that night. My mind ran through numerous different scenarios, mostly about fighting Ulfric in single combat. I'd fought many people before but the man was a war hero for a reason. I'd asked Rikke numerous questions about his prowess as a swordsman, and in the end, she simply said, "There's a reason the rebellion is named after him, Ragnar."

Serana sensed my turmoil as I eventually got up and walked towards the cliff edge, looking over Windhelm, illuminated by flames against the night sky. I felt her arm wrap around me, wrapping my arm around her in return, as I stared into the distance.

"Can't sleep?"

"Just thinking."

"You'll win, Ragnar."

"Hmmm."

"Or are you worried about afterwards?"

"Honestly, that's not really my problem. Once Ulfric is dead, we pack our things and go home."

"The General may want to keep you around for peacekeeping."

"Tough luck. He brought me in to win the war. I'll do that then my job is done. I deserve peace myself."

"For how long, Ragnar?"

I knew exactly what she was talking about. "For as long as we're not at war with them. Once war is declared, you know I will be signing up."

"I'll be at your side, Ragnar."

I kissed her cheek. "I know you will be."

"Ragnar?"

"Hmmm."

"I love you."

We returned to our small tent and showed how much we loved each other.

*****

"Message, sir!"

A young soldier burst into the tent, holding a piece of paper. He handed it to General Tullius, who read it before nodding. Then he looked at me. "Ulfric wishes to meet again, Dragonborn. Same agreement. Yourself, Rikke and me."

Ulfric and his two companions were already waiting for us, dismounting and tying our horses at the stables before approaching them with caution. I know my eyes were on the walls, where we could see a row of Stormcloak soldiers, wondering if any of them were armed with a bow, waiting to put an arrow through an eye, throat or into our gut. I didn't think Ulfric would allow that, but it was still in the back of my mind.

No pleasantries were exchanged once we were a couple of metres apart. "Do you accept terms?" the General asked.

"Aye, I do." He then looked at me. "Do you have any preference, Dragonborn?"

"I'll be ready whenever you are, Jarl Ulfric."

"Today is Middas. Will Loredas be acceptable to you?" I nodded. "Very well. I agree to the terms put forward originally, Dragonborn. I trust we don't need it in writing."

I looked at the General. He merely nodded. "No, that won't be necessary, Jarl Ulfric."

"Very well." He then paused, and surprised me with his next statement, turning to his companions, "Give me a few moments alone with the Dragonborn."

The General and Rikke immediately turned and walked away to give the Jarl and I some privacy. I had no idea what the man wanted. We were both alone, so I knew he wasn't going to try anything. "Are you a pious man, Dragonborn?"

"You mean do I believe?" The Jarl nodded. "I believe in the Nine."

"You worship Talos?"

"Of course. Do you think I care what the Thalmor think? I've already had run-ins with them."

He actually smirked, at least for a moment. "Do you have any requests for our impending battle? Should we agree on weapons?"

"I fight with a sword and shield. I'm more interested in the power of our Thu'um. Do we use that?"

"Your power would exceed mine, Dragonborn. I would prefer to test your sword arm against mine. Is that fair?"

I nodded. "I believe we'd both want a fair fight, Jarl Ulfric. I'm not sure what you know about me, but I fight honourably. And I believe you do too."

"There is no honour in war, Dragonborn."

"But there can be in battle."

"True enough, Dragonborn." He held out a hand, and we grasped each other as warriors. "Make your peace, Dragonborn, because I will you put down."

"I look forward to testing my mettle against yours, Jarl Ulfric."

He nodded before releasing my forearm, turning and walking back to his companions. I joined the General and Rikke a few moments later, both asking rather obvious questions. I explained part of our conversation, the General saying little though Rikke simply said, "I told you he was an honourable man." The General did scoff at that remark, but otherwise kept his opinion to himself.

With the men under orders to keep an eye on Windhelm, to continue practicing and prepare for battle, I left the camp with my wife the next day, primarily so we could enjoy one last night of privacy. I didn't think I was going to die, confident that I would defeat Ulfric. But there was always a possibility that I would fall to his sword.

Remembering the first time we had made love, Serana and I rode to steam pools that we had passed a couple of days before. After making camp nearby, a small clearing with a few trees to provide shade, we found a secluded steam pool, stripped off our clothes and had some fun. Once completely exhausted, we sat back, my wife snuggled into my side, and we waited for the sun to eventually start to dip below the horizon.

"What do you think of him?"

"Who? Ulfric?" Serana nodded. "I'm not entirely sure. Physically, he would be imposing to many. Roughly the same height as me. When we shook hands, I could feel the power in his arm. Add to that the mystique about the man, and his skill as a warrior, and I'm not taking this lightly at all. I can see the respect he has, just from his two companions. They listen to his every word as if it was gospel."

"You admire him?"

"I was going to join them all that time ago, wasn't I? I don't agree with a lot of what they stand for now, but there is still enough there to at least respect. I know Rikke doesn't want him dead, but she knows, for real peace to be achieved, he needs to die."

"And you? How will you feel about killing him?"

"I don't know him personally. I only know what I've been told. As I said, having met the man, I can see why many have flocked to his banner. But, in the end, he is like me. Just a man. And he'll bleed and die like one."

We returned to camp before lunchtime on Fredas, the sound of men in training ringing across Eastmarch. If they were needed, I knew they would triumph. I spent the afternoon with Farkas and Vilkas training, instructing them not to hold back, as I wanted to be sharp for whatever Ulfric would bring. I even had them fight me at once, forcing me to always be aware of my surroundings. Though they didn't make me bleed, I ended the day rather tired though happy with my performance.

I went to bed early that night, Serana joining me, though we had said and shared everything we needed to the previous day and evening. We simply lay back under the furs and slept.

After a light breakfast the next morning, I spent the mid-morning getting myself in the zone for battle, spending most of the time alone, remembering everything I had learned over the years as I practiced, swinging my sword at thin air. With an hour to go, I returned to my tent and Serana helped me get ready, taking her time helping me assemble and then dress in my armour. I could see her hands shaking, and made sure I hugged her tightly once I was ready. She didn't say anything. She didn't cry. I kissed her and told her I loved her. That made her smile at least. I closed my eyes and made sure I would remember that, if the worst were to happen.

The Generals, Rikke, the Companions and the Nightingales were all waiting for me upon leaving the tent. Behind them were ranks of men and woman of the Imperial Legion, or to be correct, my army. All of them performed the same gesture. An arm across the chest. A bow of the head.

"Dragonborn," they stated in unison.

I greeted the line as warriors, grasping forearms. They said nothing, simply a nod of the head in recognition of what I was about to do. The last person was Aela, who had kept to herself as we had camped. I hugged her tightly.

"Just come back," she said quietly into my ear.

I stepped back and looked over the assembled men, unsheathed my sword, raised it to the sky and roared. They returned the gesture, continuing to roar or chant my name as I turned away and found my horse. Once Serana and I had mounted, we rode towards Windhelm without looking back.

*****

I don't particularly believe in omens, but the wind picked up speed as Serana and I rode towards Windhelm. In the distance, the clouds were dark and low, looking ready to either dump heavy snowfall or freezing rain on top of us. Otherwise, we were alone on the road. She rode close to my side, and I held out my hand to take hers. We rode like that until we arrived at the stables outside the city. Looking left and right, I could see ballista and men in the distance, while on one of the hills, I could see siege equipment in place, ready to fire if the worst happened.

We waited at the end of the bridge for the gates to open. They did eventually, Ulfric stepping out, surprised to see him followed by a woman. Slowly, Serana and I started walking forward until we were roughly in the middle, Ulfric and his companion stopping a few feet away.

"Dragonborn, may I have the honour of introducing my wife, Hilde."

"Pleased to meet you, Lady Hilde." She looked at me, grim-faced, and nodded respectfully. If she had smiled, I would have called her an attractive if mature woman. Definitely older than myself, but still a certain aura surrounding her. I'm sure probably a real beauty in her younger days.

"Jarl Ulfric, may I have the honour of introducing my wife, Serana."

"Pleased to meet you, Lady Serana."

"And you, Jarl Ulfric."

"Shall we take one last moment with our wives, Dragonborn?"

"As you wish, Jarl Ulfric."

We stepped away as I fastened the shield to my left forearm and attached the sheathed sword to my hip. I then looked Serana in the eyes and I saw nothing but love, with a little bit of confidence too. I kissed her gently on the lips, savouring the feeling, hoping I would feel them again shortly.

"I love you," I said quietly.

"And I you."

Turning back to Ulfric, he was enjoying a last moment with his wife, glancing back to see Serana was walking backwards, her eyes on me, as she walked towards to the end of the bridge. Hilde did the same thing, until there was only Ulfric and I remaining.

The talking was over. I unsheathed my sword, watching as Ulfric unsheathed his. Not wanting to start on the defensive, I cautiously stepped forward, my eyes barely blinking as I watched every little move he made, particularly his footwork but also of his sword. I feinted once or twice, certainly not putting any power, just seeing what Ulfric would do with a particular thrust. Steel finally touched steel, and it seemed to echo in the silence.

Ulfric was a large, powerful man, and when he used his shield to knock my sword out of the way, I knew I was going to have to be careful, particularly when his sword immediately came swinging down, raising my shield in plenty of time but I felt the hit rattle all the way up my arm. I stepped back as Ulfric swung again, and I could sense he was already feeling more confident. Figuring an over-confident enemy is always a good one to fight, I immediately switched tactics, allowing him to think he had the upper hand, at least for a minute or two, dodging and blocking his swings, though he was never out of control, always circumspect in his actions.

He came at me again, and this time I planted my back foot, turned away his sword and immediately thrust forward. He was a moment too slow and I was the first to draw blood. It was only on his arm, but it was enough to cause a moment of panic, causing him to flick my sword away and step back. Now I was feeling more confident, and I increased the pace and strength of my attacks, forcing Ulfric onto the back foot, glancing to his side for a moment to see we were heading towards the city gates.

My flurry of attacks came to nought, Ulfric blocking or parrying all of my swings, immediately returning an attack as soon as mine came to a halt. I blocked everything, though was forced back myself. Turning away his sword with my shield, I quickly thrust forward, causing him to move away and I stepped forward, slamming my shield into his chest, forcing him to take a couple of hurried steps backwards.

Circling each other, shields raised, our eyes watched each other, waiting for the next move. I sucked in a couple of deep breaths, noticing Ulfric did the same. "You have talent, Dragonborn."

"As do you, Jarl Ulfric."

"I have a feeling we could be here all day. Therefore, I have a proposition."

"I'll hear it."

"Let's rid ourselves of these shields. Are you confident enough to face me without one?"

"Aye. I am."

"You go to the left, myself to the right. We'll lower our shields, take two steps backwards. Then we'll end this. Agreed?"

I nodded. "Agreed."

We kept eyes on each other as shields were detached and placed on the ground. Twirling the sword in my right hand, I waited until Ulfric was in position and ready. Then I charged forward. I used all the training I'd taken during my life, remembering all the fights I'd been in, all the tricks of the trade I'd learned. It wasn't long until I had Ulfric on the back foot and looking concerned. I was younger, stronger and faster than him. Leaving me unencumbered by my shield only helped me. And I wanted the battle over quickly.

I lunged forward and cut through his armour. Withdrawing my sword, I could see a little blood, and Ulfric made to move his hand over the wound before he had to parry my next swipe. He stepped forward and swung wildly, causing me to step back, giving him just enough time to hold the wound for a moment, watching his teeth grit as I have no doubt the wound was painful.

I now had to press home the advantage. He wasn't a spent force yet, but sweat was pouring off his face, his long hair stuck to his forehead. He continued to take deep breaths, and I wondered when he'd last swung a sword in anger. The talent was still there, but I was left thinking he hadn't fought in many weeks, if not months.

Remaining cautious, I stepped forward again, feinting one way, then another. Forced him to parry, then swerve. Each swing of the sword was purposeful. They were not wild. There was a plan in the end. Ulfric watched me intently, my footwork, my hand, the tip of the sword. Another feint, he missed and I cut his amount downward from shoulder to hip. I didn't see blood, but all that did was anger him. Before I could get my sword up, he burst forward and put his shoulder into my chest, causing me to stumble back.

I managed to parry his next swing, before I stepped forward and our swords clashed. It was now a battle of strength, of wills, our faces only inches apart. With my free hand, I punched him in the face once, then twice and a third time. The third cracked him across the nose, causing blood to immediately pour. He roared and slammed his head forward into mine, and I tasted blood. Raising a foot, I kicked him in the knee, hoping he'd go down. All he managed to do was push me away as he hobbled backwards.

He took a couple of deep breaths. "The end is approaching, Dragonborn."

"It is, Jarl Ulfric."

I could sense how tired he was. He was now bleeding from more wounds than I was. I know I'd hurt his knee, as he continued to hobble. He readied himself, but made no move to attack me. So I stepped forward again. Step, feint, step, thrust, parry, thrust, swipe, lunge, step. He met nearly all of my attacks, but they were coming thick and fast, forcing him backwards. He tried to respond, stepping forward, but those came to nought, not stopping to give him a moment.

Then he stepped forward, leaving himself open, feinting with my sword before I hit him square across the jaw. I'll admit, that hurt my hand. I was always told to hit the body, not the face. But the hit still rocked him, and a swing of my sword saw his own clatter to the ground, before I hit him again. That caused him to fall backwards and I stepped forward, the tip of my sword at his throat.

Then I surprised him. "I cannot kill an unarmed warrior such as yourself, Jarl Ulfric. Pick up your sword," I stated, stepping back.

He looked surprised, his right hand blindly searching for his sword. To prove my honesty, I stepped back again, giving him space so he could look for it. Upon grabbing it, he slowly got to his feet.

"You are an honourable man, Dragonborn."

"A warrior must die with weapon in hand, Jarl Ulfric."

He said nothing. He only nodded. For a moment, I wondered if he was already accepting death. He was bleeding from more wounds, covered in sweat and dirt, now looking like an old man. I had no idea how old he was, but if he'd fought in the Great War, even as a young man, his age was at least double my own. I remembered all that time ago, entering Skyrim for the first time, with the intention of joining his rebellion. Now here I was, the man to put an end to it.

"If I am to die, it pleases me that it will be your sword, Dragonborn."

"Your death will give me no personal pleasure, Jarl Ulfric."

"One last attack?"

I twirled my sword before I readied myself. "On your go, Jarl Ulfric."

He roared, charged forward, and put all his training into his attacks. Our swords clattered, steel on steel, the sound reverberating around Skyrim. I could feel the power of the man in his swings, watching his forearm and bicep strain as he tried to batter me into submission. I met every swing, every thrust, parrying them, turning away, bodyswerving as he lunged forward. He turned and growled, attempting again, but I could see he was already wilting. I counter-attacked, parrying and hitting him in the side with a fast, almost winding him. Following that up with a quick elbow, I watched as blood started to drip out of his mouth.

The attack continued, but he was beginning to weaken and slow. His attacks were clumsy, lacking the subtlety of before, and I was able to defend easily. But the man didn't give up, continuing to attack until I finally parried and drew more blood, before I swung and his sword went flying a second time. This time, he simply dropped to his knees, defeated, my sword at his throat once again.

"I can't kill you like this, sir," I said quietly, "But you must die."

He looked up at me, his brown eyes still full of life, even hope, but his face spoke of nothing but defeat. He knew he was going to die.

"Let me help you, Dragonborn," he stated, unsheathing a dagger that he then handed to me, handle first. He then grabbed my free hand and dragged me down onto my knees. "Have you ever looked, Dragonborn? I mean, really looked at what's around us?"

"Ragnar, sir. My name is Ragnar."

"She's beautiful. I've loved her all my life. She's given me life, a home, and anything else I could have ever asked for. I have fought for her all my life, and now I'll die for her too. I consider that the greatest honour. But it wasn't just for her, for Skyrim. I fight for them behind me, all the people across this land, even you, Ragnar Dragonborn. I fought for our freedom, but alas, it appears that is not possible. Maybe one day we will be free, but it will not be today."

"We're stronger together, sir."

He smiled. "I would like to believe you, Ragnar. Sincerely, I really would. I once fought for them. But they turned their back on our god. I will gladly die for my god." He grabbed my hand holding the dagger and held it over his chest, both his hands holding mine. "I die free, Ragnar."

"I will see you one day in Sovngarde, Jarl Ulfric. At the great hall."

He smiled at me for a moment before he pulled the dagger forward, deep into his chest. He groaned before he fell forward, catching him with my free hand, his head resting on my shoulder.

"Ragnar," he whispered.

"Yes, sir?"

"Beware the Thalmor. Protect us from them."

I'll admit, my voice caught for a moment. "I will, sir," I said quietly.

I heard him take a deep breath as I moved him so he could lie on his back, holding his head up so he could look at his land for a final time. I could see the life diminishing in his eyes. He held up his hand. I grasped it and held on tightly. "Skyrim, Dragonborn," he whispered.

"Land of my fathers, sir."

He smiled, and I watched a tear leave his eye and slide down his face. I barely heard his final word before his head dropped to the side. I lowered it to the ground and used two fingers to close his eyes, saying a short prayer to the gods, to allow this man into Sovngarde, who had fought with courage and heart, and who had died believing his cause was just.

Looking up, I could see his wife standing by the city gates. I waved her forward, watching her approach cautiously. There was no hate in her eyes as she looked at me. I would have apologised, but I had a feeling she knew I was only doing my job. And she probably would have thought my apology was empty. "Please, have some last moments with your husband before we move the body." She nodded her thanks as I stepped backwards, feeling a smaller hand grab mine. I could say only two words as I glanced at my wife.

"It's over."