Cloaked in Storm

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Because It's Named After You

"I'll start my story in Solitude, where I was born and raised. I lived with my two parents and two brothers. My father, Odming Iron-heart, was just a town guard, but he was the most honorable Nord who ever walked Tamriel. My mother- who was strict and a firm believer in tough love- Sotte Iron-heart, ran a local inn. The Stolen Locket Inn, was the name of it. My oldest brother, Svogre, was four years older than I. He was wise and protective, but we sometimes tended to butt heads. My younger brother, Lasska, wanted to go to the Winterhold College. He was so sweet and small, you couldn't help but feel the need to protect him. Lasska had this air of innocence to him, I can't really describe it.

But my family, we made a great team. Never did I feel alone, when I was with them..."

***

"Sovgre, give it back!"

"Why don't you make me?" Svogre teased, holding the doll high above my head.

I jumped for it, my fingers missing my favorite -and only- doll by a hair.

"I'll call Mama, if you don't give it back," I threatened.

A brief spark of hesitation flashed in Svogre's dark brown eyes, but he covered it up with a smirk.

"Oh yeah? I dare you." He called my bluff. I glared at him, sending daggers of hatred his way.

Of course, I never actually hated Svogre. Though, when we were small, I sometimes thought I did, as most siblings do.

I gathered my breath, inhaling deeply. By the time Svogre realized I was going through with my threat, it was too late.

"Mama!" I screamed.

"Winter! You'll get us both in trouble now!" Svogre said, shoving the doll into my hands.

I embraced my precious toy, thrilled to have it back, no matter what the consequence.

"Winter, what in Oblivion's name are you hollering about now?" Mother came storming around the corner. Her eyes, the same dark color as Svogre's, were irritated. I'm sure she would have had her hands on her hips, had she not been holding baby Lasska in her arms.

Mother towered over us. The firelight cast her long shadow over us. I was only four, so Mother seemed much taller than she really was.

"Svogre took Merta," I told her, holding up my doll.

"Merta? Last week her name was Eline." Svogre rolled his eyes.

"I can change her name if I want to, she's my doll."

Mother gave him a sharp look. "If he took it, why are you holding it?"

"He gave it back after I called for you."

Mother sternly looked at the both of us for an eternity. Svogre and I stood perfectly still, not looking away, but not meeting Mom's poison gaze, either.

Finally, Mother sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"What am I gonna do with you two? Huh? You can't handle anything yourselves, you're both too dependent." She lectured us, and I felt guilty immediately.

Mother continued, "If you don't learn to solve your own problems, you're gonna get yourself into a world of trouble. Next problem that arises, don't come crying to me."

Svogre and I nodded, our gazes dropping to the floor.

"I've got better things to do than play miracle worker! In this house we raise our kids to make their own choices. You get yourself into a mess, you can get yourself out. You hear?"

"Yes ma'am," Svogre said.

"Yes, Mama," I said.

"Good. Now I expect you," She pointed to Svogre, "to wash the dishes. And you," Mother nodded to me, "sweep the inn."

When neither of us moved, Mother said, "Go on! Are you waiting for an invitation?"

Svogre opened his mouth to reply, but decided against it, and scampered off to the kitchen. I scrambled downstairs into the Stolen Locket, where I immediately found the broom and started cleaning.

***

Late that night, when Mother was fixing dinner, Father came home, as he did every day. Svogre and I rushed to him, greeting our beloved father with hugs.

"Did you catch any crooks today?" I asked the same question each night when Father came home from work.

"Not today, kiddo." Father ruffled my black hair fondly.

Svogre tried on Father's helmet and held up his Solitude guard shield.

"When I grow up, I want to be like you!" He said, puffing his chest out. The helmet made Svogre's voice sound distant and muffled.

Father smiled, a sad twinkle in his eyes. "Why would you want to be a guard? Nothing but petty thievery and low pay."

"But Papa! You're a hero to all of Skyrim!" Svogre insisted.

"A hero," I repeated.

Father laughed and hugged us close.

"What ever you decide to be, I will be proud. You don't have to enforce the law to be a hero. Not to me, anyway."

"Well, I'm still going to be a guard. Only I'm going to be posted in Riften, so I can catch thieves!" Svogre said.

Father smiled warmly at us. He gently took his shield and helmet back from Svogre before greeting Mother in the kitchen. He kissed baby Lasska's black-haired head, and went to wash up for dinner.

"What hold will you be a guard in?" Svogre asked me.

"I dunno." I shrugged, absently petting Merta's hair.

"You should go to Winterhold, because it's named after you," He said.

I smiled at the thought of a hold named after myself. "Okay."

"Or better yet, you could become Jarl." Svogre put his hands out in a dramatic gesture, "Winter, Jarl of Winterhold."

I laughed, "If I became Jarl, I could make you my Thane."
Svogre smiled approvingly. "We'll be the most famous team-up ever. Jarl Winter of Winterhold and her noble Thane; Svogre Iron-heart!"

We laughed at the thought of us ruling over an entire hold until Mother called us for dinner.