Victory or Sovngarde

Chapter Thirty-Six

"I don't want the gods over me," she sobbed. "You need their protection far more than I. Talos guide you, Ylva."

"Be brave, little sister. We fight for you." I jumped off the carriage, bid my niece and nephew goodbye, then ordered the caravan to start moving. Slowly, the drivers pulled away from the stables, down the cobbles, towards Helgen. The fortress would be a safe place for the citizens of Whiterun. Underneath the fort had been restored, though it needed little work after Alduin's attack so many years ago.

It was the safest place in Skyrim at the moment.

Vilkas, Farkas, and I watched, holding back tears, as the caravan rolled away. Hooves clopped over the road, wheels squeaked, dust plumed, and women and children wept. The soldiers who stayed behind, young and able-bodied, watched their families leave them behind. Sofie wiped a tear out of her eye as her parents rolled past her. Eirik put a hand on her shoulder and whispered something to her lost in the sound of travel.

As the wagons disappeared down the road, Marina, Ulfric, and Jarl Balgruuf joined us. The Jarl wore a set of plate armor bearing the Whiterun insignia across the chest. His axe hung from his waist, and his helmet decorated with white horsehair settled under his arm.

I stepped forward and pressed my arm across my chest in salute. "My Jarl, there is no reason for you to prepare for battle."

"I will fight for my people, Ylva, and for all the free people of Skyrim." Balgruuf turned to address the army still standing by the roads, watching the wagons trundle their way to Helgen. "Back to work! We have to expect the Thalmor at any moment! We will see our people again."

The soldiers dispersed, and we followed the other commanders back to the main tent. It was too far a walk to Dragonsreach, so we had established a command tent just inside the walls. We three Companions flanked the table on one side, and the others stood opposite of us.

"How many have our scouts reported?" asked Marina as we stared at the missives scattered over a map of Whiterun Hold. "Ten thousand?"

"Maybe fifteen now," said Ulfric as he laid another note on the table. "We are outnumbered five to one, counting the farmers who are barely able to wield a sword. We're no formidable force, and we're fighting within the least defensible capital in the entire province."

"Would you rather we retreat to Windhelm, Ulfric?" asked Vilkas. "March our army for days with little food, no rest, over rocky, steep, and frigid terrain? The Thalmor would pick us apart from the rear, then finish us off on Windhelm's doorstep. We stay here."

"I believe that decision falls to our Dragonborn."

I looked up. "We're staying. We just sent our people to Helgen for shelter. If we leave, they're in the warpath. They'd be slaughtered. We stand as their only defense."

"We're all Skyrim has left," said Farkas. "We're her last chance."

"You're right, brother," said Vilkas.

Farkas fixed his twin with a sharp smile. He had a cunning look in his eye, which seemed a rare sight for the likes of him. "And we'll give the Thalmor a fight they'll never forget."

I smiled at Farkas. Not for the first time, I thanked the gods for his bravery and grit. "We sure will, Farkas." Then, I turned to the others. "We'll take our leave. We have an age-old tradition to uphold back at Jorrvaskr."

They gave us our leave, and we left for our home. Farkas laid an arm over my shoulders and Vilkas held my hand. I felt safe in between my husband and brother-in-law. Comforted. Being near them like this was as natural as breathing to me. I could almost forget the doom that now hung over us like an inky-black storm cloud.