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War, At Last

The large hearth within the great hall of Dragonsreach had burned down to low embers as Jarl Balgruuf and his council gave careful thought to the ordeal they now faced. As the hold slept, those that wield power within the hold had only war on their minds. Balgruuf sat before the dying hearth, a plate of seared slaughter fish and warm mead left cold and untouched. Among him was his trusted advisers, Proventus, Irileth, Hrongar, and Fangar.

"So it comes to it at last; War," said Balgruuf grimly.

His brother Hrongar grunted beside him. "Better it comes now. The Stormcloaks are weary of war."

"And we are weak from the Dragon Crisis," Balgruuf returned crossly.

Proventus, the steward of Whiterun, rubbed his hands together anxiously. "Perhaps the Jarl of Windhelm goes elsewhere. How can we really be sure we are his intended target?"

"Proventus, you snivelling coward..." began Hrongar, interrupted by the calming hand of the jarl.

"Enough, Hrongar. Whitrun is key to Ulfric's ambitions. We hold the center of Skyrim, and vital to unifying the realm. I have defied him long enough, and his patience is no more. If it's war Ulfric wants, it's war he shall have.

"We are not without friends," said Irileth. The former assassin balancing the point of a dagger on the table before her. "Order the Dragonborn here, he must give us aid."

Balgruuf shook his head. "The Dragonborn's title of Thane is an honourary one, and no oaths has he sworn to service. Besides, he has done enough for the people of Whiterun. Nevertheless, summon him here in the morning. I will ask him one last time to aid Whiterun."

Proventus tugged at his collar. "With the recent infiltration of Stormcloaks, and the subsequent assault committed upon the Dragonborn and his family, I don't see how he could possibly refuse."

"What of the Companions?" Asked Irileth.

"Yes," agreed the Jarl. "We shall call on the warriors of Jorrvaskyr. Long have the Jarls of Dragonsreach and the Harbingers of the Companions worked together in such times of crisis. Proventus, send word to the Jarless of Solitude as well. It is in Whiterun that this war shall finally be turned against Ulfric, and any troops she can send will be sorely needed."

"Excuse me, my Jarl, but what of the mages of Winterhold? Perhaps they can be of some assistance?" Chimed Farengar, the court mage. 

"They are too far away to lend any help, besides, Winterhold is loyal to Ulfric. What makes you think they will come to our aid?"

"I have many friends among the college," returned the mage. "Besides, the diverse ranks of the college do not wish to see the jingo's among the Stormcloaks come to power."

Balgruuf nodded slowwly. "Very well. Send word to the College of Winterhold. Perhaps some can come and assault the rear guard of the Stormcloaks."

"What's our next move?" Asked Hrongar, eager to get to the topic of strategy.

The Jarl stared into the glowing embers of the hearth for a long moment. Finally he spoke. "Irileth, long has your sword been at my side, has it not?"

"Yes, my Jarl, and longer still," returned the Dark Elf. "I may have been born in Morrowind, and ventured all across Tamriel, but Whiterun is my home, and I shall die to defend it."

"That is good to hear, my old friend. I task you with leading the army against the Stormcloaks. Do what you can to turn them from the hold. Send them running back to Windhelm like frightened children."

"It is the blood of Stormcloaks that will spill across the plains, my Jarl."

"What of me, Jarl Balgruuf?" asked Hrongar, slighted at being omitted from command.

"Your place is by my side, brother. I charge you with seeing to the defence of the city. Should things turn ill out on the tundra, I will have great need of you upon the walls."

"I will die before I let a Stormcloak within this city, my Jarl!" Saluted Hrongar.

"Good. Dispatch messengers, get the aid we so desperately need." Balgruuf stood up from the table as his advisers scattered to carry out their duties. With leaden steps, he made his way to his chambers, watching his children as they slumbered in their beds. 

Surrendering to fatigue, the Jarl found his bed and shut his eyes, suffering a fitful sleep of unpleasant dreams.

Jarl Balgruuf of Whiterun attempts to enlist the aid of the Dragonborn, Solitude, Companions and Winterhold College in his war against Ulfric. Meanwhile, Irileth is given command of Whiteruns armies and prepares to march out to meet the Stormcloaks in battle, while Thane Hrongar oversees preperations for the capital's defense.
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