Foreword: This is my first stab at writing a Fan-Fic set in the ES universe, so please let me know in the comments of what you think so far, and if you like this type of storyline. If you guys like it, then I will continue the story.

Becoming

A tale of a Nordic childhood

Chapter One

It was a cold wintery day, with snow blowing in the wind. The sunlight glistened off the snow-covered ground. A perfume of pine and burning hickory permeated the air, when a shout suddenly tore through the silence.
“Rrrrooooaaaah!”
A man charged at me, war axe raised, his salt-and-pepper beard billowing behind him in his great speed. I struggled to unsheathe my weapon, trying to free it in time to meet his charge. Failing, I managed to do an ugly dodge-roll to my right, avoiding my assailant.

He had stopped his charge and began to circle me. I went to draw my iron blade once again from its scabbard, and was met with success. I managed to bring the weapon to the proper pose I had been taught: holding my free hand forward to counter-balance the heavy weight in my right. The blade was held just above my waist, and angled at my opponent.

With another yell, he closed the remaining distance and struck a blow. I caught his axe on my blade and turned it away, and went for a strike of my own. He easily stopped the blade and disarmed me. My heart was pounding in my throat.

“ You did much better then last time, Thorolf.” He complimented, offering the blade back to me.
“Thanks father.” I said quietly as I accepted my sword. Losing a battle always had a way of humbling you.
“But, do not think I failed to notice your struggle to draw your blade, other opponents will not show you the kindness of allowing you another opportunity.”

“Yes, sir” I mumbled.

“Always so polite! Come then, let us escape this chill and return home. Maybe your mother’s cooking has improved!” He joked, putting his arm around my shoulders.

We walked back to our home, a wooden cabin built in the usual Nordic way: the majority built underground to help conserve heat. A soft glow came from the windows, and the smell of burning hickory became ever stronger.

As we walked, snow crunching beneath our feet, I pondered at how well I compared to my fellows. Our fathers were our combat instructors, and teachers for a good portion of our lives and I had a good one. I couldn’t wait until the next time I would meet with my peers, and could show off the new skills I’d learned.

Short, but interesting! I'd say you created a good feel of the boy's anxiety. Not a subject commonly seen in this subform, I, for one, enjoyed it and definitely do think you should continue with more.