Hello folks, this is the first part of the prologue to my Skyrim fanfic. Just something too mention, this story is set in a alternate universe as you'll find out later. Hope you like it, comments and advice are welcome and wanted. For Whiterun!

Also it's very important to mention that the characters, Ned, Targon, Aedan, Bjorn and some of the others are the creations of my good friend a fellow forumer Tom, he has given me his blessing to use his characters in my story as both of our characters stories are intertwined.

Prologue Part 1

Whiterun City, Whiterun Hold

4E 201

“Vanion!" the bosmer looked to see Ned pointing towards the plains, the Stormcloaks were coming!

“Archers, get ready” said Vanion putting an arrow to his bow. The Stormcloaks were getting closer by the second now.

“Loose!” roared Ned, as one all the archers let their arrows go with a loud twang. The arrows all found marks in the on rushing nords. The Stormcloaks fell over their dead as the volley took its toll but the Stormcloaks had tricks of their own. In the distance a great red dot raced towards the city, slowly becoming a boulder covered in lit pitch. The boulder roared over the heads of the men stationing the walls and slammed into the Wind District.

“Put out the flames!” cried Dorlas who was further down the wall closer to the affected district. Vanion could make out the shapes of citizens with buckets running towards the fires.

“More of them come!” warned Vanion indicating three more lit boulders racing towards the city.

“Get ready for another volley” said Ned over the roar of the boulders. The archers responded, fitting arrows and aiming at the Stormcloaks.

“Their armour is weak at the arms and neck” said Vanion.

“Loose!”

The archers let the volley go, but the Stormcloaks were prepared this time. They managed to form behind a shield wall of sorts. Some arrows found their marks, but the majority was stopped by the shield wall. Vanion spotted a figure not too far away directing what looked like ladders, the bosmer realised was going to happen.
As the main body of the attackers headed for the gate, another squad moved forward. Shields held high, they weren’t easy pickings for the archers.

“Ladders, they’re trying to scale the walls” cried Vanion over the din, he saw Ned order some men over to where the archers were and then he and his guards made ready for the enemy.

“The fires are out for now” said a voice behind Vanion, the elf jumped but relaxed when he realised who it was.

Dorlas had his bow at the ready and pointed at the soldiers over by the gate, “We need to go to the gate; there are too few men there”
Vanion nodded, he picked another archer to follow and with Dorlas ran along the wall towards the gatehouse. The few men left there were hard pressed by the invaders, Dorlas and Vanion arrived among them.
There were three gatehouses that the invaders needed to break through. The first gate fell hours ago, but the surviving guards managed to close the second gate. And now the Stormcloaks had to try the walls if they wanted to gain ground on the defenders. Vanion and Dorlas added their arrows as the guards at the gate fired down on the Stormcloak line bypassing them. But the defenders didn’t know that the Stormcloaks had found another way to the gate, the door that the survivors from the first gate came through was being violently rammed.

“The door! They’re trying to break down the door” warned Dorlas, as one half of the men at the gate ran over to the door to try and hold it. If the Stormcloaks got through, they would open the gate letting the main force through to the last gate that went into the Plains District.

“It’s hopeless” said Vanion sitting down on a nearby chair, “The Stormcloaks will break through here or they’ll get a hold of the wall”

“As long as Whiterun has men like the Longstrides to hold it, the city will not fall” said Dorlas looking his friend dead in the eye, “Not while we stand here to defend it! Not while we draw breath!”

Vanion stared at his friend in wonder.
Meanwhile at the walls the men were hard pressed to push the Stormcloaks back, the ladders crashed onto the wall and soon after a burly Nord would then jump onto the wall killing all. One such warrior now was attempting to cleave his way through to the leader of that particular part of the wall, Ned.
Ned saw the warrior coming as one of his guards was suddenly thrown off the wall screaming. Ned lifted his mighty sword in challenge and with one strike decapitated the man; the warrior now headless fell backwards from the wall. Ned ran forward to the ladder and pushed it from the wall before anyone could climb. As he looked out though he could just see an endless tide of enemies but his focus was shifted when the guards yelled out that the second gate had fell. The Stormcloaks roared in fury running through the gate cutting down anyone who couldn’t make it to the wall. Many of the men that Ned grew up with were now dead, their lifeblood soaking the ground. But he wouldn’t give up, he was a Longstride.
Vanion and Dorlas barely made it to the last gate, the other men who were too slow were cut down by Stormcloak steel. It was hopeless; the battle was slowly drawing to an end. But dawn wasn’t far off, and some looked west for uncalled for help. But if the Empire did come it would be because they wanted Whiterun in their hands.
The walls held for a couple more hours before the retreat was signalled. Dorlas had just dispatched a Stormcloak, kicking his lifeless body off the wall. Vanion was unstoppable with his bow, he fell five men in a couple of seconds.

“Vanion, Dorlas! Fall back!” yelled Ned from afar, the two friends looked at each other and departed heading for the fortress.

Ned also beckoned to Bjorn who was in charge of another part of the wall, “Bjorn, tell your men to fall back to the keep”, Bjorn nodded and started yelling out orders to his men.
As they came into the Wind District Vanion saw Aedan leading the civilians up into Dragonsreach, he had been tasked with their protection. Suddenly the Stormcloaks clambered atop the wall and finding them undefended opened the gate to let the main force through. As the rebels stormed through the Plains District the defenders ran with all haste to Dragonsreach.
Vanion fell behind the others and soon enough the Stormcloaks found him, Vanion drove his sword into the gullet of a Stormcloak soldier, he pulled the sword out. He slashed out as more Nords came at him.

“Give up puny elf, it’s over” said one particular Stormcloak, at that moment though he grew still and a blood came out of his mouth. The man gasped in shock and a man pressed his mouth near the man’s ear so he could hear.

“It’s not over while we Longstrides are here”

The mighty warrior pulled free his axe, the dead Stormcloak fell to the ground and standing there covered in gore was Bjorn Longstride.

“Now go Vanion, meet up with the others. I’ll cover you”

Vanion nodded and sped off, but as he started to climb the steps he looked back. Bjorn was surrounded by five Stormcloaks, there was no chance. Vanion knew what would happen, he was powerless. He turned his back on Bjorn and ran up the steps.
Vanion barely made it through the door when the guards slammed it shut and prepared to defend it to the last. The roar of the Stormcloak force steadily got louder as they made their way up the stairs leading to the Cloud District.
As Vanion came into the keep Thane Targon approached him, he was weary with age but still made of an iron will. He looked around as if looking for someone.

“Vanion, where is Bjorn?” Vanion looked at Targon and just shook his head. Targon understood right away, “So he has fallen”.

Vanion made his way to the Jarl’s throne; there he witnessed a heated discussion.

“We must go out there and fight” said Ned, “Whiterun isn’t lost, not yet”

Olfrid Battle-Born nodded in agreement but Vignar Gray-Mane was trying to convince the Jarl to surrender, that Ulfric would show mercy.

“Enough!”

Everyone turned to acknowledge Targon, “We can’t give up, not yet. We must show these damn Stormcloaks the error of their ways”

The Jarl stared at his Thane, “What do you propose?”

“Ride out with me, my Jarl. If this is to be our end let it be a glorious one”

Balgruuf looked around the throne room; the soldiers that would die for him stared at him with hope. The nobles stood at his side ready to follow him to whatever end.
The Stormcloaks came rushing up the steps, they were determined to win this battle. The soldiers and citizens hid in the keep, a brave few remained outside to try and stop the Stormcloaks but it was futile, but as the Stormcloaks came up to the wooden bridge of Dragonsreach a horn sounded deep inside the building.
Suddenly the doors swung open and a great mass of riders came galloping out, Jarl Balgruuf was at the front he held up his mighty sword,” For Whiterun! For Skyrim!”
The Stormcloaks were unprepared for such a charge, they held their shields up and uttered prayers to Talos but it was hopeless. The riders smashed into the Stormcloak lines, men were crushed by the horses and other hacked at by the riders themselves. The Stormcloaks started to pull back; they had no choice, retreat or die. The riders made it out to the plains, behind them dead and wounded men alike. The main Stormcloak force however still outnumbered the defenders, as they were riding down towards the stables a Stormcloak champion spotted Ned, he grabbed a nearby javelin and ran towards the Longstride. Ned saw the champion too late, the javelin sped towards Ned but suddenly another rider came between Ned and the missile. It was Targon; the force of the blow threw him off his horse. He gasped, clutching at the javelin. The champion went to grab another javelin when a score of arrows thudded into his chest. He growled in pain but still went to grab the javelin, but then Vanion’s horse sped past and another arrow sped through the air and went through the man’s neck. As the champion fell to the ground Vanion wheeled his around, concern on his face.

“Continue on! Do not stop!” yelled out Jarl Balgruuf.

Ned looked at his father, but Targon gave him a stern look. Ned didn’t want to leave but his father was still in danger with all the Stormcloaks around. Ned urged his horse onwards, new vigour driving him forwards.
Vanion loosed arrow after arrow, Dorlas wasn’t too far off, the Imperial’s mighty sword cleaving skulls and slicing through armour. The bosmer looked around urgently but Aedan was nowhere to be seen. As the riders circled around to do another charge horns sounded off to the west, everyone stopped fighting. Attackers and defenders alike, over the hill there was one horse.

“Vanion, what do you see?” asked Ned.

“A rider in steel armour, she’s a legionary!”

Suddenly a massive column of infantry came atop of the hill, a black banner they held it had the shape of a red dragon on it.

“It’s the Empire” said Dorlas dumbfounded, “I wasn’t aware we called for aid”

The Legion leader raised her sword, more horns sounded then the infantry started to march.

Why does this seem to remind me of the scene in LOTR:the two towers when The king rides out of the Hornburg or is that what this scene is based on?

You got me, I'm guilty. I love the Lord of the Rings and that particular scene among them but when I was writing the battle scene it wasn't at first based on it but then I thought it would be epic with Jarl Balgruuf and his men were to launch a charge out of the keep just like what Theoden did.

p.s. This will be the only lord of the rings based scene.

The second and final part of my prologue, comments and advice are welcome.
The characters Ned, Aedan, Targon and some others are the property of my friend Tom who has kindly allowed me to use them in this tale.

Prologue Part 2

Whiterun City, Whiterun Hold

Two days after the Siege of Whiterun

With the addition of the Legion, the defenders of Whiterun managed to defeat the Stormcloaks. The rebels fled in droves eastwards back to Eastmarch, the day belonged to the people of Whiterun. Although they had victory there were costs, many died on that fateful day. Bjorn Longstride was found in the Wind District surrounded by dozens of Stormcloak dead, he had died fighting. Then Thane Targon died from his injuries and Aedan Longstride was found near death, his chest full of arrows, the city wept for the losses it suffered that day.
It was evident the following day that the Legion was staying for a while, a vast field of tents lied to the west of the city, their leader, one Legate Rikke was staying in Dragonsreach. It was after a very stressful argument that Ned was called to the keep to meet with the Jarl. Vanion followed his master up the steps, the elf was unusually quiet. The siege had battered him severely, when asked to go the healer he refused saying he was fine but the others doubted it. In truth, Vanion was hurt inside; he felt that he had left Bjorn to die when he should’ve stayed by his side. But what was done was done.
Ned swung the great doors of the palace open, he continued on towards the throne. He could see the Jarl as well as his housecarl, Irileth. Ned stopped short of the throne; the Jarl was busy reading a note. Irileth made a slight sound, Balgruuf raised his head.

“Ah, Ned I’m glad you came” said the Jarl.

Balgruuf got off the throne and placed a hand on Ned’s shoulder, “I’m sorry for your loss. He was an honourable man”

“I doubt you called me here to give me your condolences” said Ned.

“Yes, your right. Please follow me” said Balgruuf starting towards the stairs that lead to the great porch. Vanion and Irileth made to follow but the Jarl raised his hand, “You housecarls can stay here”

As Ned and Balgruuf left Vanion shuffled closer to Irileth, the dunmer woman narrowed her eyes.

“What is it Vanion?” she asked.

“Today’s a nice day” he remarked.

Irileth groaned and shook her head, within a couple of hours Ned and the Jarl came back down. Ned had a grim look on his face, no matter how many times the bosmer asked Ned kept saying, “Wait until where back at the household”
When Vanion entered the War Room it was already full of Ned’s trusted friends and advisors. The household guards, Haldor and Talen stood behind Ned their own faces equally grim as Ned’s. Dorlas sat in the corner of the room, listening intently, Aedan who had barely recovered from his injuries and still wrapped in bandages was sitting nearby. Vanion made his way over to Aedan and Dorlas.

“You’re late” remarked Dorlas.

Vanion was about to answer when Ned started to speak again, “Thank you all for coming, I have heard some grim tidings which you must all know”
Ned leaned on the table. "The Legion has come to Whiterun for two reasons; one was to defeat the Stormcloaks. The other was to come for me. I am to be trialed for desertion."

"Desertion?" Aedan asked "But you're not part of Tullius's Legion, and Cyrodiil is a long way from Whiterun."

"It would seem the Thalmor pulled a few strings, and insisted that I was a threat to the realm. I think they fear how much power we Longstrides hold in Whiterun. To that end, they wish to see me dead."

The room was silent, but Aedan could barely contain himself.

"They can't do this, they can't." he protested.

"Not at the moment, no." Ned reassured them "The Jarl has vouched that I be pardoned because of my actions during the Siege of Whiterun and during the Dragon attack. Still, they'll try to drag me off to Solitude to await trial. I don't know what will happen after that."

"Let them try..." Talen growled.

"Yes, let them. If they come for me I don't want anyone to intervene, is that understood?" Ned said "There will be no bloodshed over this."

"Yes Thane." they nodded.

"Good. Now off with you, the lot of you, especially you Aedan, you should be in bed."

*****

THE FOLLOWING DAYS went by easily enough, the Legion was stilled camped outside the city and Legate Rikke still demanded to take Ned back to Solitude. Aedan was soon well enough to wander about the city, Dorlas or Vanion not too far behind.
Ned was either at the household or up at Dragonsreach talking with the Jarl. A storm was brewing, Vanion could sense it.
It had been almost two weeks since the siege; Vanion woke up to loud voices. He left his room making his way to the entrance of the household.

“Ned, are you saying the Jarl is going to actually let the Legion take you, after all you did”

“Aedan you know full well that Balgruuf has no choice”

“But he lied to us and to everyone. He said he was on the side of Whiterun, well he has betrayed us”

At that exact moment Vanion walked out of his hiding place, Aedan and Ned stopped talking. They were distracted by a knock on the door.

“By the Gods, there here” said Aedan reaching for his sword.

But Ned grabbed Aedan by the arm and shook his head; the door was knocked on again. Ned strode over and opened it. Two guards stood outside, one of them was the Commander, Caius.

“Ned we need to escort you to Dragonsreach”

Ned nodded and followed the guards. Vanion and Aedan close behind.
Balgruuf was sick and tired of the many arguments he had been having with Legate Rikke, but he had no choice now but to relent. If he refused he would be branded a traitor like Ulfric, but even then Balgruuf wouldn’t want to beg for mercy at the knees of the king-slayer. The great doors of Dragonsreach opened as Commander Caius followed by Ned came in. Balgruuf didn’t really notice Aedan and Vanion sneak in. At the same time Rikke came into the room, she glared at Ned with what looked like a mixture of hate and sorrow.

“My Jarl, Thane Longstride has come” said the Commander.

“I can see that myself Caius, you’re dismissed”

The Commander bowed to the Jarl and nodded at Ned, Rikke was now standing in between them.

“I’m so sorry Ned, truly” said Balgruuf.

Ned didn’t reply, Rikke came closer and whispered to Ned, “You brought this upon yourself”

“And I gladly stand by what I did” he said firmly.

At Rikke’s behest two Legion soldiers had accompanied her, to “escort” Ned back to Solitude. As they started to head for the doors Aedan and Vanion showed themselves.

“You’re not taking Ned anywhere” growled Aedan drawing his sword, as he did the two soldiers drew theirs as well; Vanion also out of nowhere nocked an arrow to his bow.

“Aedan! I said no bloodshed; I go in peace knowing I’ll be joining Father and Jon in Sovngarde soon enough”

Tears streamed from Aedan’s eyes he moved out of the way, Vanion still had his bow at the ready.

“Ned I’m honour bound to protect you from danger and will gladly die for you” he said.

“Vanion, you’ve been a good friend. I release you from your oath, go and live your own life now” Ned said smiling at the bosmer.

Vanion was heartbroken, he stood out of the way and Ned with the Legionaries left the Palace.
As Ned was “helped” onto a waiting carriage he looked upon his beloved Whiterun, he didn’t look away from it even when it was obscured by the mountains.
Aedan and Vanion looked out from the top of Dragonsreach, first Targon and Bjorn now Ned.

Aedan looked at Vanion and said “There will be a reckoning, and it’ll start here”