Secunda's Kiss

by dovahkiin_andco

Summary:

Theodora thought defeating Alduin was the end to her destiny as Dovahkiin, but as the civil war continues to rip Skyrim apart, she receives an enticing offer from no other than the great Bear himself. The question that plagues her is, does she turn to this new life of glory and war? Or does she live out her days with her trusted housecarl, waiting for the day her previous suitor returns from war?

Chapter 1

Theodora awoke to the sound of the front door slamming, shaking the feeble house and jolting her out of a not-so-peaceful slumber. She groaned as she wiped her sore face and tried to muster the energy to sit up. They had gotten back from their latest bounty late into the night, so late they were practically dead on their feet after searching for the gaggle of bandits that had robbed one of the local farms, but with their reputation it was always safer to sleep in their home rather than in a cleared out cave. Even after… by the gods about a year… Theodora still had a hard time comprehending who she was; who she had become: the dragonborn.
She heard a soft knock on her door and she chuckled, “Come in Lyd.”
The door creaked open slightly to reveal Lydia, a strikingly tall and brazen nord woman who had been appointed Theodora’s housecarl when she ran a few favors for the jarl of Whiterun. A few favors meaning clearing out a bandit and draugr infested barrow all by herself to retrieve some mythical stone for the jarl’s pompous court wizard, and of course the even more notable favor of killing her first dragon. Which consequently allowed her to discover her true self, or at least, the self that everyone preferred and boasted about. She was the dragonborn, a thing of legend, capable of devouring a dragon’s soul and speaking it’s tongue to eliminate her enemies. With a simple shout she could blow away an entire fleet of men. But she mostly used it to collect bounties around the holds and split the coin between her and Lydia.
“Good morning my thane, my apologies for waking you… my hands were a tad full and the wind got the best of the door.” Lydia sighed as she entered her Thane's room and extended her hand out which held a steaming tankard. Theodora graciously accepted the warm coffee and sipped it, letting it unthaw her still frozen face from the night before.
“Not to worry Lydia, where were you off to so early?” Theodora asked as she held the warm tankard between her fingers and let the steam warm her cheeks. Lydia groaned as she sat in the chair adjacent to Theodora’s bed and stretched out her legs.
“Dragonsreach, got our coin already, and I stopped by Carlotta’s stand and picked us up some breakfast.” Lydia answered as she leaned back in the chair.
“And what did prissy Proventus have to offer us for taking out an entire clan of well-trained bandits?” Theodora rolled her eyes. Lydia chuckled and shook her head.
“The usual, a thousand. And another bounty.”
“By the gods already? Who was robbed now?” Theodora groaned in exhaustion and set the tankard down on her nightstand. She reached down to the floor and grabbed her robes to slip on, her dirty armor still discarded to the side from the night prior. She was surprised she even had enough energy to take off her armor before falling into her bed, sometimes she would wake up the next morning still fully dressed with her boots on and all.
“No one. But this bounty is not for Balgruuf. We’ve been asked to investigate a potential dragon spotting.” Lydia answered with a flicker of inquiry in her voice.
“Oh goodie one of Alduin’s disciples is reeking havoc out there still. Where are we going? Falkreath?” Theodora shook her head as she threw her covers off and pushed her feet to the cold wooden ground.
“Oh no, apparently, the Jarl of Windhelm has requested our services.”
Theodora stopped cold and furrowed her brow at her housecarl, “You’re joking.”
“Not in the slightest, here, a letter addressed to Balgruuf asking for our help.” Lydia said as she pulled a small scroll out of her robes and handed it over. Theodora quickly snatched it and tore it open, scanning her eyes over the words in disbelief.
To the Jarl Balgruuf the Greater,
The Jarl of Windhelm, Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak, has requested the service of the dragonborn. There have been sightings of a dragon terrorizing the nearby farms. Please send the dragonborn at once and we will reward him handsomely.
Theodora chuckled and rolled her eyes at the jarl assuming the dragonborn was a man, “Hmph, I never thought I’d see the esteemed jarl of Windhelm again. But I guess we can’t really say no… seeing as the brute didn’t even ask he just requested Balgruuf send us like we’re simple peasants unworthy of-”
“By the gods my thane was he really that unpleasant in Helgen?” Lydia interrupted her heated rant as she gawked at her thane, not very surprised as Theodora often had trouble holding her tongue. She sighed and shook her head.
“I barely saw him in Helgen other than being his cart mate. No, the jarl slipped out while the rest of us fought our way through a spider infested dungeon. Sorry, guess I’ve been hanging around the Battle-Borns too often.” Theodora sighed as she calmed the irritation brewing inside of her. Of course the esteemed Jarl of Windhelm wouldn’t ask for the dragonborn to do her Talos-given gift and serve the jarl.
“So you don’t think we should go?” Lydia asked. Theodora shook her head once more.
“No, we definitely should. I don’t really know what to expect entering the rebellion capital.”
“Shouldn’t be any different than when we’ve been to Solitude, except less thalmor and more… stubborn nords.” Lydia chuckled.
“So, business as usual.” Theodora said, “C’mon, let’s get some breakfast and hit the road. We wouldn’t want to keep the jarl waiting.”

Chapter 2

Notes:

Flashback scene

She didn’t remember how exactly she wound up on that cart. All she remembered was walking the path towards Ivarstead after leaving Riften, stopping to take a piss, hearing an awful lot of commotion coming down the path…. And then blank. She woke up next to a few men, her head was pounding, and her hands were bound together so tight she couldn’t even feel her fingers anymore. 

She had accepted her death, not like the other bloke on the cart who wouldn’t shut up and ended up fleeing, just to get an arrow in the back. She was in a sea of blue and red uniforms, though she wasn’t wearing either. She remembered being rather amused… and completely infuriated with the fact that she had done so much to avoid the war and now she was going to die because of it. Perhaps if she had just enlisted she would be at a camp and not in line to have her head chopped off. 

Suddenly it felt like someone had replaced all the blood in her body with ice water. She knew something was near.

Fire was everywhere. Buildings were crumbling. Blood curdling screams. Something… awful filled the air. It wasn’t the smell of the smoke. Theodora eventually realized it was the smell of bodies burning alive. A smell she would never forget. 

“Let’s go kinsman! The gods won’t get us another chance!” 

Her ears rang as she stumbled her way along into the watchtower with the man who was on the cart across from her. Ralof. He was already bleeding by the time they even entered the watchtower. A dying soldier lay on the ground as another tried to help her. In the corner stood the jarl, free from his bindings, she remembered staring at him hoping the jarl would be able to save them all. But while he was impressive in stature, and his voice was rich and dark like fine silk, the only words of solace he offered were “move. now.”.

Her legs felt like they were broken, but all she could do was run. She couldn't get her bindings off. The smoke filled her throat and watered her eyes, she could barely see where she was running let alone where the dragon was. Where Alduin was. One of the imperial soldiers tried to help, but she knew in her heart she needed to stick with Ralof. 

“Are you alright? Here let me get those damn bindings off of you.” Ralof asked as he wiped the soot from his eyes and they swiftly moved into the keep, out of sight from the dragon, and from the imperials.

“I uhm, I think so I don’t. I don’t know.” Theodora stuttered as Ralof pulled a dagger from his pocket and quickly cut the leather bindings off. She winced in pain as her hands were finally freed. Ralof sighed as he knelt down and pressed his hand against the soldier of a dead soldier in blue.

“You’re not a soldier I take it?” He asked, turning his attention back towards the shaking Theodora. She quietly shook her head as she felt the tears welling in her eyes. 

“That’s alright, I wasn’t a soldier long ago either. Here, put on Gunjar’s gear and take his ax. Give it a few swings, you’re going to need it.” Ralof said quickly as he pulled the blue cuirass off his fallen brother. Theodora didn’t argue as she shakily took off her outer dress and pulled on the cuirass, ignoring her company’s wandering eye towards her exposed skin. He helped her tighten the straps and handed her the ax with a reassuring nod. 

“What’s your name?”

She cleared her throat and could barely make words come out, “Theodora.”

“Can I call you Theo?”

She chuckled and nodded.

“Alright Theo, you’re an honorary Stormcloak now. My name is Ralof. If we’re lucky, we can find a way out of this keep before the dragon destroys everything in it’s path. Sound like a plan?” Ralof said. She exhaled shakily and nodded her head. Suddenly, her entire life was depending on this stranger. And even worse, his depended on her as well. 

“Damn imperials locked the gates, maybe there’s a key around… Oh for Talos’s sake get down. Imperials are coming.”

Her heart was beating out of her chest as Ralof shoved her behind his body and held her close to the ground, his sweaty palm wrapped around her wrist as she tried to control the panic in her breathing. Imperials were coming. 

The gate opened and a man and a woman both dressed in red sauntered in. They didn’t realize the two prisoners had escaped. Before Theodora could breathe Ralof lunged forward with a grunt and plunged his ax in the neck of one of the imperials. Theodora gasped and tried to steady herself as she gripped the iron ax in her shaking hand. The male imperial fell to the ground, a pool of blood splattering from his neck as he choked and grasped at his throat. Theodora couldn’t look away. There was so much blood. 

She heard a body fall and she froze as she realized Ralof had been bashed with the other imperial’s shield. He groaned as he fell to the ground and tried to grab his fallen weapon. The imperial had her sword in the air ready to swing down. Theodora felt herself lunge forward as she swung her ax and hit the imperial in the side, causing her to fall backwards and smash into the wall. Ralof quickly picked up his ax and plunged it into the woman, but she had already fallen. Theodora watched as more blood pooled the cobblestone ground. 

“That’s… a lot of blood.” She whispered as she watched the two bodies go limp. Dead. She had killed that woman. She had taken a life. Ralof felt around the bodies and pulled off the helmet from the woman.

“Let’s keep moving. Don’t stare. It’ll only haunt your dreams. Here, put on this helmet and her bracers. They’re heavier but they’ll keep you better protected.” Ralof said as he handed her the steel helmet. Her eyes were still locked on the bodies. Dead. 

“Theo. Let’s go.”

Ralof walked past her and pushed open the gate the imperials had unlocked. She exhaled slowly and reached down to grab the iron shield of the imperial man, pulling it from under his corpse. She was going to need all the help she could get. 

They hurried through the dungeon, nearby missing falling walls and tripping over dead bodies. Ralof kept his grip on her wrist pulling her through the carnage. 

“Where are you from Theo?” 

Theodora hesitated and considered lying. But she figured this stranger who had already saved her skin more times than anyone else, deserved the truth. 

“Riften.” 

“Riften. Your family must be fishermen.” He chuckled as they scurried down a crumbling set of stairs. She sighed and nodded. 

“Exactly.” 

“You don’t sound like you miss it.” 

“I don’t.” She said quickly. 

“Well, hopefully we can get you out of here so you can find a new home. Maybe one you can think of fondly in times like these.” Ralof said. 

They came out to a long stretch of dungeon. They both froze and tensed their bodies as they saw a few figures in the distance amidst the rubble. But relief flushed over both of them almost instantaneously as they realized the figures were dressed in blue. Ralof began to walk forward but Theodora hesitated. The walls were shaking too much. Smoke was coming through. Cobblestone fell from the ceiling. She lunged forward and grabbed the back of Ralof’s leather armor, yanking him backwards with all her strength, what little she had. They both fell backwards as the ceiling caved down in front of them.

“Thanks for that.” Ralof chuckled nervously as he wiped the soot off his face, “Are you okay?”

“No… but let’s keep going before the rest of this comes down.” Theodora said. Ralof held out his bloody arm for her to grab, pulling her up into his grasp.

“Agreed. Talos don’t fail us now.”

Chapter 3

The trek to Windhelm was quick, but each step grew colder and colder. Theodora was grateful she and her housecarl were nords, this part of the country wasn’t too friendly to those who weren’t fair and blonde. Though her and Lydia were of the rarer dark haired nords. She knew many dark elves lived in the halls of Windhelm, but that didn’t mean they were welcomed. She hoped it wasn’t as bad as she had heard it was from travelers.
“Where do you think this beast is anyway? Are you feeling anything?” Lydia asked as they stopped for a piss break, roping their horses to a nearby stump. Theodora swapped her leather bracers for fur gauntlets in hopes of regaining feeling in her fingers.
“Not particularly. Who knows where it could be by now.” Theodora said as she took a swig from her water canister. Typically when a dragon was nearby she could feel it, similar to Helgen, like an ice wraith had slithered down her spine. But all she could feel was numb from the blistering cold air.
“Well at least we know it’s not attacking Windhelm.” Lydia nodded off in the distance where the massive walls of the nearby hold of Eastmarch were blanketed by the falling snow. Theodora sighed and felt a strange pit in her stomach. Nerves. She hated to admit she was terrified of seeing the great Bear of ‘Markarth’ once more. Every time she thought of him suddenly she was back in Helgen. Fire everywhere. Burning bodies everywhere. Though the jarl seemed to be missing from most of it. He wasn’t in the dungeons watching walls crumble around him, he wasn’t fighting for his life watching the blood pool around his feet and staining his skin.
“Maybe we should stop in first. See if they have an update. For all we know the beast is already gone.” Lydia sighed after a moment.
“No reason. My bets are that it's that rigid mountain top.” Theodora nodded towards the far mountain ridge where she had spotted the source of her chills. It was the color of ice, practically blending in with the snowy mountain caps. But no doubt, it was the beast they were looking for. Lydia tensed as her eyes focused on it.
“Let’s send that bastard back to Oblivion shall we?”
“And not meet in Sovngarde. Talos guide us.”

Chapter 4

Notes:

Ulfric Stormcloak POV

Ulfric was unhappy. Which wasn’t unusual, but his mood grew more and more sour with each day that passed and he didn’t hold Whiterun in his grasp. He thought Bolgruuf would have come around by now, but it had been weeks of sending couriers to Whiterun, reasoning with the old man only to come up short. Bolgruuf was a coward, and Ulfric was running out of patience. 

“You think we should send Bolgruuf a stronger message?” Ulfric sighed as he rubbed his brow and closed his eyes, listening to his closest general and confidant Galmar nag him endlessly about taking Whiterun ‘by the balls’ while they still could. 

“If he’s not with us, he’s AGAINST us Ulfric.” Galmar grumbled as he leaned against the war table in front of them. Ulfric sighed and pressed his fingers hard into his forehead, hoping to push all of his annoyance to the back of his mind.

“He knows that, they all know that.” Ulfric sighed at him.

“How long are we going to wait?” Galmar pressed. 

“In time, Galmar. If we can-”

Suddenly Ulfric’s faithful steward, Jorleif, stumbled into the war room seemingly out of breath. Like he had run all the way from Markarth. Ulfric sat up quickly to see what the urgent word was. Imperials? Certainly not near Eastmarch, Tullius would be a damned fool to march on Windhelm. 

“My lord, apologies for the interruption.” Jorlief said as he tried to catch his breath. Ulfric waved him off.

“What is it?” He asked impatiently. 

“It’s the dragon-”

“By the gods, here?!” Galmar interrupted but Jorleif quickly shook his head.

“No no, the guards have reported a loud commotion on the eastern river. When they went to investigate they saw the beast plummeting to the ground! And then…”

Ulfric leaned forward as he listened to his erratic steward go wide-eyed, completely shocked as if he lost his words.

“And then? Out with it Jorleif please.” Ulfric barked. Jorleif sighed and nodded apologetically.

“It’s the dragonborn. They saw someone completely devour the beast’s soul. Take it’s very being.” Jorleif finished, his eyes wide as if he had seen a daedra summoned straight from Oblivion. Ulfric’s attention piqued. The dragonborn . 

“Well, is he here?” Galmar asked. Jorleif shook his head once more.

“Oh the dragonborn certainly is not a he . The guards reported she and a companion are at Candlehearth as we speak.” Jorleif added. Ulfric and Galmar exchanged looks. 

“The dragonborn is a woman?” Galmar chuckled to himself, “I’d like to see that vixen.”

“Jorleif tell the guards to make sure those two do not leave Windhelm without coming here. I assume they are here for the bounty but we can’t be too sure. I want to meet this famous dragonborn, see what all the fuss is about.” Ulfric commanded. Jorleif nodded and ducked out of the war room as the jarl and his general exchanged looks of awe and surprise.

“You think she’s working for the imperials?” Galmar asked as soon as the door closed again. Ulfric quickly shook his head.

“Doubtful. No way Tullius would not have showboated her around as an intimidation tactic. And Bolgruuf reports she has been camped out in Whiterun, thane of Whiterun actually. That companion of hers must be her housecarl.” Ulfric explained as he tried to recount the few words Bolgruuf had sent to him mentioning the dragonborn. He felt foolish for assuming the dragonborn was a man, perhaps he had overlooked the finer details in Bolgruuf’s writings. 

The dragonborn. A woman. A woman of legend. The woman who apparently took down the world-eater Alduin. He needed to meet that woman. 

“Then perhaps we can send her back to Whiterun with a sword in her hand for Bolgruuf.” Galmar chuckled. Ulfric eyed him and knew his old friend was joking, but Ulfric was serious.

“Perhaps it’s time the dragonborn picked a side.” Ulfric said. Galmar eyed him curiously.

“You think she’ll stay? Enlist? She hasn’t joined now, what makes you think she even cares about the war? What makes you think she’ll listen?” Galmar grumbled, shaking his head in disbelief. Ulfric chuckled and pushed himself up from his seat.

“I can be very convincing.” 

Chapter 5

Notes:

Theodora POV with flashback scene

“Two of the biggest tankards of ale please, whatever stew you have, and some bread please and thank you.” Theodora asked the barkeep at the Windhelm inn/pub: Candlehearth. A rather cozy nook in the center of the grand frozen city, it was full of lively soldiers and drunken townsfolk, no different than any other tavern in Skyrim. She tossed a small pouch of coin that would pay for more than what she asked for, in hopes the cook wouldn’t be stingy with the fatty meat in the stew. 

“Take a seat wherever, I’ll bring it over.” The young nord woman tending the bar said as she graciously accepted the coin. Theodora thanked her once more and headed back over to where Lydia had scouted a table. They had once again taken down a beast even the bravest of warriors in all of Tamriel wouldn’t dare go near. 

“Food and ale will be here hopefully before the bartender finishes counting the coin I just gave her.” Theodora groaned as she sat in the rickety wooden chair in the corner of the large room. 

“Good, that bastard nearly took my arm off the least I need is some ale to make me forget it even happened.” Lydia said sourly as she pulled off her steel gauntlets and set them on the table. Theodora frowned at her.

“You know you don’t have-”

“ Save it my thane, you know damn well I need to help you take down those beasts. How else would I keep fed?” Lydia chuckled as she forced a smile, “I’m just hungry is all don’t take it personally.”

“Well hopefully we can get this bounty and get back to Whiterun before Tullius decides to invade this place.” Theodora said quietly as she eyed around and noticed almost all of the bar-goers were dressed in Stormcloak cuirasses. Her mind flashed back to her first ever armor. The feel of the worn blue cloth against her skin, the leather irritating her thighs, the smell of the blood soaked straps. She had pawned that cuirass not long after she and Ralof departed in Riverwood, and bought her second set of armor ever: iron armor. She knew she probably should have stuck with the leather, but she wanted to bulk up her muscles as quickly as possible, and the heavier armor would allow her to do so. Plus, it put an extra layer between her chest and her enemies’ war ax. 

Theodora couldn’t resist scanning each pale sullen face in the room, her heart would flutter each time another blonde-haired man dressed in blue entered the room, and then a gnawing feeling would eat at her stomach each time she realized the person looking back at her wasn’t the man she fought alongside in Helgen. Ralof had written to her a few times since he left Riverwood, but it had been long since she saw his face. 

“I wouldn’t say things like that too loudly here my thane, you know these men have a tendency to let their anger get the best of them.” Lydia said quietly. Theodora chuckled and nodded as she turned her attention away from searching the room.

“Oh yes I’m aware. They were quite the lively bunch in Helgen, well, those who didn’t have their heads chopped off at least.” She said sullenly. Lydia scrunched her face at her crass thane and shook her head. 

“They are rather good looking though, some of them at least,” Lydia sighed after a moment with a wicked grin, “Key word is some of them.”

Theodora snickered and nodded as she let herself glance around the room once more. She felt the familiar yearning in her body. The intense need to feel the weight of a man pressed against her, breathing on her neck, groping her thighs in his grasp as he thrusted into her. She’d do anything to hear the deep carnal grunt of a man releasing his seed. Well, she’d really do anything for one man… She still replayed their last night together vividly. 

Her eyes were fluttering shut by dinner, but she couldn’t turn her mind off. She knew she needed to go to that barrow and retrieve… whatever that silly stone was for the jarl’s court wizard. Dragonstone. Sounds mysterious. She said her goodnights to her newfound friends, Gerdur and Hod, who had been more than accommodating in letting her stay in their spare room with Ralof for no charge. Ralof had stressed that she had ‘saved his life’ more times than not in the short time they knew each other, so Gerdur insisted she stay with them and not sleep in the Bannered Mare in Whiterun. Theodora didn’t argue, her stomach lurched each time she thought of leaving Ralof. 

He had been helping her train, giving her tips on how to swing her sword without losing her balance, how to aim different bows and feel what’s right, and more importantly, how to block. She had even managed to knock him down quite a few times, and she felt the weight on her arms and hips begin to harden into muscle. She was becoming a warrior, as much as that terrified her it thrilled her twice as much. They’d spend the mornings chopping wood and helping Gerdur run the mill, they’d have lunch with Gerdur’s son who was fascinated by watching them train, and then Ralof and Theodora would spend all afternoon and evening training in the backyard. He even set up a makeshift practice dummy out of hay and waterlogged lumber for her to practice her swings on without having to worry about actually hurting him. 

She laid her head on her pillow and stared at the candle flickering on her nightstand. Ralof was still out talking with Hod and Gerdur, she could hear their voices faintly through the walls. She could never fall asleep until she heard Ralof crawl into the bedroll across the room. He insisted he slept better on the floor but she still felt bad for taking the only spare bed each night. 

Soon she would have to go to the barrow. She’d be on her own again. She hated how terrified she was. She hated depending so much on a man who was simply a stranger on a cart just a few weeks prior. But the only way she was going to make it is if she used her newfound skills for the better. Perhaps after she ran this errand for the jarl she could find a quiet job in Whiterun, perhaps rent out a small room until she’s saved up enough coin to travel. Or perhaps she could work out a deal with Gerdur and Hod, pay them for their spare room while she worked the mill and ran odd jobs for the people of Whiterun and Riverwood. That is… if she even survived her first errand to the barrow. She felt strangely confident in herself. After that damn dragon, she didn’t think much could take her down. And frankly, she didn’t have much else to lose.

Her head jerked towards the door as she heard the familiar footsteps approach. Her stomach flipped as she waited for Ralof to enter. Some nights they’d stay up talking. He’d ask her about her childhood, about her home, and he’d avoid answering her questions about his time in battle. But he was confident the Stormcloaks would soon be victorious. 

“You’re still awake?”

She cleared her throat and nodded as she glanced over, watching him kick off his boots and begin to unravel his armor. Her body flushed in embarrassment each time he undressed, revealing his broad chest. His arms were scarred, but his chest was left rather unscathed. He had the muscles of a warrior, a seasoned soldier, even though he couldn’t have been much older than she was. She watched him undress to just his undergarments and sit on the edge of her bed, she sat up in confusion as her heart pounded with him being so close.

“You should know… Since my arm is healed… I’m heading back to Windhelm in the morning.” He said quietly. His foggy gray eyes met hers as she stared at him in confusion.

“What? Already? But- It seems just yesterday we were destined for the chopping block and now you’re going back?” She sputtered in disbelief. He sighed at her and shook his head.

“This was always the plan Theo, you know that. I’m a soldier. I belong out there fighting for Skyrim.” He said grimly, his voice hollow. She sighed and grit her jaw, trying to keep the lump in her throat suppressed. 

“I’ve already discussed it with Gerdur, she says you are more than welcome to stay here and work the mill.” He added.

“Well when will you be back?” She asked. He looked at her and his eyes said it all. She exhaled shakily and shook her head. She opened her mouth to argue but he waved her off.

“Dammit Theo what part of this don’t you understand? I told you from the start this was my plan. This is what I have to do. I'm still able bodied, I’m still able to fight. What kind of man would I be if I abandoned my cause?” He barked at her. She felt stunned, he had never been cross with her before, and never this angry. She stayed silent as she focused on her breathing. She couldn’t let herself cry. She couldn’t let herself fall apart over this man. This man who clearly didn’t care about anything other than fighting that damned Ulfric’s war. 

“You’d be a smart man.” She responded bitterly but he shot her a look of utter disgust.

“I’d be a coward.”

“Fine. Go to Windhelm. Die for your precious Ulfric. And when you’re long gone he won’t remember you. All he’ll care about is sitting on that damned throne.” She spat at him as she flung her legs over the side of the bed and pushed herself up. She was going to storm out, go to that barrow and whatever happened happened. If she died, then so be it. That was what Talos was giving her. 

But she felt her arm be yanked back. She tried to pull away but she felt Ralof grab her gently in his grasp as he stood up to meet her.

“Don’t. Don’t say those things. In here you are safe, but out there if you’re caught speaking those words you’ll be killed immediately. Do you understand me Theo? You can’t just speak your mind freely and let your rage get the best of you, that’s how you wind up-”

“On a chopping block?”

He sighed at her and shook his head. Her eyes met his as she tried to study his face, knowing it could be the last time she ever saw him. Alive at least. His eyes were the color of the sky before a storm. His cheeks were always red from the sunlight burning his fair skin. His wheat colored hair falling around his stubble covered jaw. He was a young man, but the war had aged him. She wished he would just stay, let the war go on without him. Let himself live his life again. 

“You are incredibly stubborn you know that?” He chuckled as his grip lightened around her arms, his fingers tracing down her bare skin. 

“I’m stubborn? You’re the one too stubborn to call it quits while you’re ahead. We survived a damn dragon for Talos’s sake and you want to push your luck even more?” She sighed at him. 

“You are too young to understand.”

“Oh don’t pull that with me, I'm old enough to know you’re a fool.” She pulled away from his touch and moved to grab her armor.

“Theo please.” She felt his hand reach for hers as he stepped between her and her armor. 

“Please what? You want me to just sit here and tell you to go out and get killed? After everything we’ve been through?” She hissed at him feeling the lump in her throat grow harder and harder to suppress with each word. He pulled her away from her armor and she felt his body press against hers, the heat from his skin radiating onto her as her heart began to pound practically out of her chest. 

“What are you-”

She felt his hand press gently against her neck, his thumb rubbing against her cheek as he pressed his lips to hers. His lips were wet, warm, and tasted like the ale he had been drinking. But she didn’t pull away. She let him pull her body closer to his as his arm cradled around her. His breath hot on hers as he kissed her hungrily. After a moment he pulled back.

“This could be the last time I ever see you. Please don’t go.”

She nodded, still in his grasp. Her heart pounding so hard she worried he could hear it, or at least feel the shakiness in her hands. He quickly pulled off her sleeping garment and pulled her towards the bed, his chest pressed against hers as he kissed her more. She could feel his groin hard against her stomach as his hands grasped as her chest. She stood frozen, letting her body cave into his. She had never been touched by a man before. Her body flushed as he loosened his breeches and let them fall to the ground. They were both completely bare. She could feel the warmth of his groin pressed into her as he kissed her harder.

He pulled her onto the bed as he shifted his weight onto her. She wanted to tell him she was a maiden but she felt unable to speak. She didn’t want to ruin anything. She didn’t want it to be over. She laid still and tried to steady her breathing as she felt him in between her thighs. His wet lips kissing her chest, his stubble grazing her skin. 

She let out a small moan of pain as he suddenly pushed inside of her. She felt like she was being torn open but she didn’t want him to stop. She didn’t want him to leave. She bit her lip and dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands trying to distract her mind from the pain as he continued to thrust into her. His groans of pleasure were deep, his breath wet on her neck as he clashed his hips against hers. She hoped Gerdur and Hod could not hear them. Or would they even care. Ralof would be gone soon. And she would be alone again. She felt the tears welling in her eyes, not knowing what was killing her more. The pain of being defiled, or the pain of knowing no matter what she did she couldn’t get him to stay. 

“Fuck. Fuck.” Ralof whimpered into her neck as he thrusted one last time and kept his hips pressed against hers. She could feel him… releasing inside of her. She began to panic once more. She didn’t think he would spill his seed inside of her. How could he put a part of him inside of her and then abandon her? 

“Oh by the gods Theo, you didn’t tell me you were a maiden.” He groaned as he pulled himself out of her and glanced down. She felt the tears escaping her as he shifted his weight off of her. She rolled over wincing as she closed her legs. She didn’t say another word as she drifted to sleep. 

When she woke the next morning, he was already gone.

Chapter 6

“So what’s the plan? Stay here for a few days and rest or get our coin and book it back?” Lydia asked as Theodora jerked out of her daydream. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she felt the yearning deep in her groin. Satisfying herself at night before sleep never seemed to do the trick for very long. 

“Let’s take it one step at a time.” Theodora yawned as she sipped the tankard of ale the barkeep had brought over.

“I think we should stay here a bit, scope out the town. I’ve never been to Windhelm before, maybe there’s work to be done, coin to be made.” Lydia said as she stuffed some bread into her mouth, her words becoming muffled by the food. Theodora chuckled and nodded as she sipped the piping hot stew and let the warmth unthaw her frozen lips.

“Alright Lyd, we can stay. Unless of course the jarl is even more unpleasant than I’ve been told and we’re driven out of town before we get the chance.” Theodora said quietly. Lydia shook her head and said something incomprehensible, chewed quickly, swallowed, and swung back some ale.

“I think you’re being too hard on the brute, the jarls adore you. You’re their own shiny trinket. And don’t forget this jarl specifically requested you .” She repeated with a clear mouth. Theodora rolled her eyes as she remembered the letter to Bolgruuf.

“ No , he requested another brute he assumed the dragonborn would be. I don’t imagine he’ll even believe me because I’m a silly little lass.” She said bitterly.

“Well then, you’ll just have to prove yourself as the dragonborn. Perhaps you two can have a shouting contest.” Lydia teased giving her thane a heinous grin. Theodora couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Now now, I don’t really fancy becoming Stormcloak enemy number one. We both know the jarl couldn’t handle my thu’um.” She said.

“Yes yes, you’re right. Another round?” 

“Yes please, we may as well bunker here for the night. Start off with the bear himself in the morning, hope he gets a good night's rest.” Theodora nodded as she finished her tankard of ale and pushed it to the side. 

“I’ll get us a couple rooms.”

Theodora watched her housecarl disappear towards the bar as she finished off her soup and picked at the small loaf of bread. She still couldn’t believe she was in Windhelm. Now she had officially traveled all around Skyrim. Even reaching as far as Markarth, though she hated that side of the country. Damn Forsworn hiding in every cave and abandoned house just waiting for their next victim to torture with their barbaric weapons, dawning the skulls of elk on their heads. 

Her eye flickered over and caught the gaze of a Stormcloak soldier. A tall woman leaning against the bar. Her long auburn hair tied into intricate braids. Theodora couldn’t help but stare at her beauty, she must have been sought after from every red-blooded Stormcloak man. Theodora quickly looked away feeling a pit in her stomach wondering if Ralof had fallen for a Stormcloak soldier. He could have very well forgotten all about Theodora by now. It had been nearly a year since they had seen each other, and months since he had written to her. 

“A new recruit?”

Theodora glanced up and noticed the auburn haired soldier had wandered over to her table. Theodora eyed her suspiciously and shook her head.

“No, just traveling. Here to collect a bounty.” She answered vaguely. The soldier clicked her tongue in disapproval and shook her head.

“Figures. I knew I would have remembered your face if I had seen you here before.”

Theodora felt her cheeks flush as she shook her head, “Er-no this is my first time here actually.”

“Really?” The soldier said as she sat down in Lydia’s seat and set her tankard of ale down on the table. Theodora glanced over and saw Lydia cocking her head by the bar, watching the entire interaction. Not with offense, but more with fascination. 

Theodora smiled politely and nodded.

“I’ve been here for months and I’m still not used to the cold. Where are you from?” The soldier continued. Theodora chewed the inside of her cheek and decided to go with the more-favorable somewhat truth.

“Whiterun.”

“Ah, I’m from Dragon’s Bridge.”

“Really? You’re a tad far from home.” Theodora chuckled. The soldier nodded quickly and shrugged.

“Had to get out of the imperial hold. Faithless dogs. I joined as soon as I could hitch a ride on a carriage here. My name is Siobhan by the way.” She said as she extended her gauntlet covered hand across the table. Theodora hesitated but exhaled and shook the soldier's hand. It wouldn’t hurt to start connecting with the townsfolk especially if they were going to stay a while.

“Theodora.” She said as she shook the soldier's hand. 

“That’s a very pretty name.” Siobhan said, flashing a grin at her. Theodora chuckled and tried to suppress the embarrassed redness in her cheeks. She stared at this soldier, her eyes as green as moss fresh after a rainstorm, her cheeks pink and slightly freckled, blue war paint spread across the bridge of her nose and around her eyes. 

“So, are you here with that woman over there?” Siobhan continued nodding towards the counter where Lydia had started to talk with a soldier herself. Theodora felt a little more relaxed knowing Lydia was more of a social butterfly than herself, and would be doing a better job at getting information. 

“She is my bounty companion, yes. We travel together.” Theodora cleared her throat nervously. 

“It must get lonely traveling all the time. I know I get lonely here, even among all the soldiers.” Siobhan sighed. Theodora met her gaze and a flicker of… something hid behind the soldier’s eyes. Theodora cleared her throat and rubbed her forehead nervously.

“I’m uhm, I’m gonna get a drink. Can I uh, get you something?” She stuttered. Siobhan flashed a smile at her and tipped back her ale.

“I’d love another pint.”

“Coming right up.” Theodora exhaled heavily as she turned and walked towards the bar. Her eyes met her housecarls and they exchanged looks. Theodora quickly ordered two pints from the barkeep and hovered next to Lydia waiting for the eager man on the other side to stop chattering about the glories of war long enough for her to break her housecarl free. 

“Gren, this is my friend Theodora. Theodora this is Grenold, he’s a Stormcloak .” Lydia turned her attention suddenly to her Thane who was practically bouncing up and down in nerves waiting for the bartender to give her the pints of ale. Theodora cleared her throat and nodded politely at the Stormcloak soldier who was practically leaning on top of Lydia. She had to give it to her housecarl, the man was rather attractive. His hair the color of chestnut, his face freshly shaven except for a thin mustache and slight patch of beard. His jaw perfectly chiseled. She could tell he, like Siobhan, probably were the pick of the soldiers.

“Nice to meet you.” Theodora said plainly.

“Will you pardon me one moment, Gren?” Lydia flashed a smile at the brooding man who winked at her and nodded. Theodora couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

“Here’s your room key. I’m staying in a separate room. I’ll come get you in the morning. Deal?” Lydia whispered quietly as she slid the key over the counter, her eyes shifty in the direction of the man waiting for her.

“Well well well Lydia someone is being awfully demanding.” Theodora chuckled, “You have your fun.”

“And you have yours my thane.” Lydia whispered harshly as she gestured towards Siobhan who was, much to Theodora’s surprise, still waiting at their table. Theodora chuckled and shook her head.

“Oh don’t start this with me again Lyd.” Theodora groaned under her breath but Lydia waved her off.

“I think we’ve both earned a night of fun , now go. That’s an order.” She raised her brow suggestively and patted her thane on the hand. Theodora sighed and slid the key in her pocket. She was glad Lydia was at least indulging. Theodora had found it nearly impossible to bed any man in the past year without leaving the next morning feeling like a skeever. It always felt… meaningless. Like she was being used. Most of the time she didn’t mind, mostly because once men learned she was the dragonborn they made it a personal goal to make her cum multiple times. But she never cared to remember their faces the next day, in fact she preferred to block it out all together. She shook her head and tipped the tankard back, chugging as much warm ale as she could without gagging hoping it would help her relax. She may as well take a page out of Lydia’s book and indulge. 

Chapter 7

They ended up in her room. They had a couple more rounds of drinks as Theodora listened to Siobhan endlessly talk about her successes in battle. Theodora told her a couple stories about bandits they had cleared out, but kept the dragonborn thing under wraps. She didn’t really need to alert the entire hall who she was, and frankly, it always killed the mood when they thought they needed to over compensate.
Siobhan’s lips were smaller than anything Theodora had felt, but she tasted much sweeter. And she was far less serious than any of the men Theodora had slept with. Siobhan had completely undressed by the time Theodora had locked the door to her room and turned around. Theodora chuckled nervously as she pushed off her boots and began to unravel her leather armor, but Siobhan took it upon herself to take Theodora’s armor off. Her lips trailed Theodora’s next, her drunken moans escaping her lips as Siobhan sucked on her chest. Before she realized what was happening.
“Have you ever been with a woman before?” Siobhan asked as she pushed Theodora onto the bed and climbed on top of her. Theodora blushed heavily and exhaled.
“No.”
Siobhan chuckled and settled on the bed beside her, her fingers trailing down between Theodora’s legs.
“Good. I want to be the best orgasm you’ve ever had.”
Theodora chuckled and leaned her head back as Siobhan hungrily kissed her neck, she could feel her braids falling against her bare chest as Siobhan slipped her middle finger into Theodora causing her to moan in surprise. She tried to relax, letting the intense need to feel another person making her cum overtake her mind, but she never could take her mind off wanting it to be one specific person in her bed. Siobhan shifted and quickly settled between Theodora’s thighs. Theodora chuckled nervously and waited, it was rare a man would do this to her, they mostly just stuck to jamming their fingers down there and hoped it would do the trick.
“Oh by the gods.” Theodora exclaimed as Siobhan swirled her tongue around Theodora’s clit and giggled in satisfaction at her pleasure. Theodora gripped the musty sheets of the bed as her legs spasmed around the sensation. Perhaps Siobhan was right, this would be the best orgasm she’s ever had. Siobhan was moaning with each swirl of her tongue as Theodora’s breath quickened. She threw her arm back and gripped the headboard as she felt the ale flowing through her blood. Not to mention the recent dragon soul was still coursing through her veins, giving her an intense state of euphoria. She found herself moaning louder than she had ever before as her release was building and her legs began to tense around Siobhan’s grasp.
Suddenly she pulled away and Theodora jerked her head up in confusion.
“You’re not an imperial spy are you?”
“Wh-what? What are you talking about?” Theodora gawked at Siobhan in disbelief as her release began to fade. Siobhan repeated herself.
“I can’t fuck an imperial spy.”
“No I’m not a damn imperial you think I would fuck you if I were?” Theodora groaned as she propped herself up on her elbows. Siobhan chuckled and wiped her mouth.
“Just checking. You know I’d have to kill you if you were right.”
“I swear on Talos I have never been working, nor will I ever be working for the imperials. Now, would you like to switch?” Theodora grunted in frustration and found the words coming out of her mouth. Perhaps the Stormcloak cause was deeper in her roots than she wanted to admit. That was, until she was on the brink of cumming and being interrogated.
Siobhan chuckled and kissed Theodora’s opening, causing her body to jerk at the sensitivity.
“Oh I’ve wanted you to fuck me since you first walked into the pub.” She practically purred as she slowly pushed her fingers inside of Theodora causing her to moan, her clit was aching to be finished. She had never been denied so close to cumming before. Not on purpose at least. Siobhan quickened her pace, thrusting her two middle fingers inside Theodora. Just the slight graze against her clit was driving Theodora closer to release once more. Siobhan began to swirl her tongue inside of her once more, keeping her pace with her fingers. It wasn’t long before Theodora was gripping the headboard above her and releasing, her legs jerking to the sensitivity as Siobhan chuckled with satisfaction. Theodora caught her breath and felt the similar sense of dread wash over her after each time she slept with another. How she wished it was Ralof again. She sighed and shook off that thought, she could feel miserable later. But she at least owed this soldier an orgasm.

Chapter 8

Her head was pounding the next morning from all the ale, and the little sleep she got from her late night adventures, but nothing a small healing potion couldn’t cure. Siobhan had gone back to the barracks after many… many orgasms. And thankfully did not cling onto Theodora asking her to see her again. No matter how many times that beautiful soldier made her shake with pleasure, the dread always washed over her as soon as she came down from her high. She missed Ralof. She hated to admit it. But she did. 

Lydia knocked on her door not long after Theodora had woken and quickly bathed in the small washbowl given in the room. She figured most people used these rooms for what she did last night, and not the sleeping part. She certainly wasn’t inclined to stay many days if she couldn’t soak her muscles at the end of the night until the water ran cold and chilled her bones. 

“ So ,” Lydia chuckled as she plopped onto Theodora’s bed while she waited for her thane to get dressed, “How was your night?”

Theodora chuckled and shook her head, “That bed is lumpier than a sack of rocks so I slept terribly, but this place keeps the heat in well at least.”

“Oh c’mon my thane you know I didn’t mean how you slept, though I agree I would’ve preferred to sleep on a snowbank than sleep on that mattress.” Lydia prodded. Theodora groaned and felt the dread burrowing into her stomach like a parasite. 

“Yes I bed the fiery soldier, it was nice. How was your night?” Theodora cleared her throat as she tightened the straps on her armor and avoided her housecarl’s gaze.

“Eh, I’ve had better. The good looking ones are always worse in bed. They feel they don’t have to work at it, you know?”

Theodora chuckled and shook her head, “No, I suppose I don’t.”

“Well did you… you know ?”

“Did I?”

“Did she make you see the gods?”

Theordora chuckled and hid her face in embarrassment, “Oh I hate it when you put it like that. Yes my nosey friend she did indeed. Three times.”

“Oh well now you’re just bragging.” Lydia rolled her eyes and threw the musty pillow at her thane who caught it instinctively.

“Yeah I guess I kind of am. Now, let’s go get our bounty huh?” Theodora sighed and grabbed her knapsack, feeling for the rough edges of the dragon scales and bones she had swiped off the beast’s corpse. She always swiped proof of the conquest, though the jarls almost never actually asked her for any. She liked to hold onto the bones, hoarding them in a chest. She wondered if they would ever be malleable enough to make a suit of armor out of. Or at least a bludgeoning weapon. 

They ate a quick breakfast of eggs, potatoes, pork hash, and plenty of coffee to soak up the rest of the ale from the night before. Theodora tipped the bartender well in hopes they could room there again if need be, and then they were off to what Theodora was still dreading. Seeing the jarl. The brute. The man who started the entire war by killing the late king Torygg. She remembered the day Riften received word, her father was furious, sending himself into a drunken rage that this country had gone to shambles and we were ‘no better than those damn khajiit’. Over the year she learned different sides to the story of course. Some call Ulfric a true hero, similar to Talos, that he is the only light in Skyrim’s future and without him on the throne the entire country will fall victim to the thalmor and the empire. Others say he’s a dirty opportunist just hungry for more power, and is no better than the thalmor. Theodora didn’t know what to think. All she knew was he was there the day she was captured. He was there when she watched a man get beheaded. He was there when Alduin burned an entire village. And he wasn’t there when she was fighting for her life in the dungeon alongside Ralof. 

“Let me do the talking, Bolgruuf warned me Ulfric’s got a bit of a temper.” Lydia said quietly as they left the hall and headed north towards the grand palace. The palace of the kings, it was called. No wonder Ulfric had such a thick head. He grew up in a palace meant for royalty, he was bred and raised to be a ruler. He was probably even snottier than the pompous jarl Siddgeir of Falkreath, who spent all his time buying fine wines and less than fine whores rather than taking care of his keep. 

“Fine. I doubt we’ll even see his highness , he’s probably hiding in his barricades letting his generals do all his dirty work.” Theodora grumbled under her breath. Lydia shot her a look as if to say get your comments out now or I’ll personally bind your mouth shut . 

“Yes alright I’ll keep to myself. Just let’s get in and out. And hope they aren’t cheap here in Windhelm.” Theodora groaned as they continued on the icey cobblestone steps towards the palace. Guards dressed in blue were patrolling the front courtyard, she tensed knowing one of them was about to pounce on them.

“Halt. What’s your business with the jarl?” One of them snapped as he pushed himself in front of Lydia and practically shoved her back. Theodora held onto the handle of her sword ready to draw it but Lydia stayed calm and poised as she always did.

“Apologies, we are here to speak to the Jarl’s steward. We’re here to collect a bounty.” Lydia said politely. The guard grumbled from behind his steel helmet but nodded.

“Alright fine, but I’ll be keeping an eye on you. No funny business.” He grumbled as he stepped to the side and let them pass. Theodora kept her annoyed expression to a minimum as they pressed forward. Of course the jarl has overly protective guard dogs, what else are the city’s guards good for? Certainly not protecting its citizens. 

They pressed on and Theodora kept quiet behind her housecarl, who kept her head high and her body poised. She after all was well versed in jarls’ politics. She had been dealing with Bolgruuf for years before Theodora came along. And Bolgruuf is known to be rather short with people. 

The grand hall of the palace was indeed the most grand and luxurious Theodora had ever stepped in. A massive fire pit roared in the side of the room, heating the entire hall with comforting warmth and the smell of mulling wine. A long table stretched practically from one end of the room to the other, large enough to feed an entire army. Suitably enough. Her eyes fluttered to the banisters hung up and down the ceilings. Blue and silver cloth with the crest of Eatmarch stitched intricately in each flag. A great bear. Sconces were covering the lining of the ceiling, along with plenty of chandeliers, lighting up the room to be rather welcoming. Nothing like she had imagined. When she pictured Windhelm, she thought of cold, blistering, unwelcoming. She figured the jarls' hall was probably dead, no life, no light, gray with misery.

She stumbled as she realized her housecarl had stopped walking, she bumped into the back of Lydia who shot her a look. Theodora cleared her throat and steadied herself, they had reached the end of the never ending grand hall. She glanced up and all the blood drained from her face as she realized standing before them was no other than the great bear himself. And he was indeed great. He was… much taller than she remembered, towering over the two of them. His shoulders were broad, more broad than she had ever seen. He donned fine jarl’s robes over a set of steel plated armor, and a black bear skin draped over his massive shoulders. Suddenly, she was back in Helgen. Screams filled her ears as her eyes met his. She couldn’t help but stare at him. His eyes were… hauntingly blue. Almost silver. His face had jagged scars across his cheek and the broad flat bridge of his nose. His hair was the color of fine honey, with silver strands woven in, and his face neatly shaven except for a straw colored goatee hiding a sullen frown. He was… intimidating to say the least. Theodora broke her gaze away as she looked to her housecarl, focusing on the details of Lydia’s face as she tried to bring herself back to the moment, and ignore the memories of Helgen flooding into her mind. She could practically smell the burning flesh again.

“Only the foolish or the courageous approaches a jarl without summons.”

His voice sent shivers down every inch of her skin. We need to move, now! Rung in her ears, one of the few words she had ever heard him speak before. His voice was still just as dark, just as rich as she had remembered. 

“We are here to collect the bounty for the dragon that has been terrorizing the local farms. Late last night we defeated the beast. The corpse may still be up by the river, just north of the keep.” Lydia cleared her throat and answered the jarl without so much as a hint of annoyance with his arrogance. 

“So it is true. The dragonborn has come to Windhelm.”

Theodora’s attention snapped up once more as Lydia sighed and stepped back. Theodora cleared her throat and could hear Lydia nagging her in her mind don’t give the jarl lip unless you want both of us locked up in cages until we turn to draugr .

“Yes, my jarl. We received word from Jarl Bolgruuf you requested our services. We have defeated the dragon.” Theodora spoke plainly, keeping her tone in check as she forced herself to look into the eyes of the jarl. His gaze pierced hers as if he were staring directly through her. 

“Very well.” Jarl Ulfric chuckled slightly to himself as he turned and gestured towards the other end of the room, “My steward will be happy to get you your well earned coin. But might I ask to have a word with you dragonborn, in private?”

Theodora glanced over to Lydia who now was tense. But Theodora felt a strange sense of ease in front of this powerful man. Ease, or knowing she couldn’t refuse. She sighed and nodded to Lydia who reluctantly obeyed, stepping back but keeping her eyes locked on her thane. Theodora exhaled and followed the jarl, hoping she would see her housecarl again and this was merely an opportunity to intimidate the dragonborn. 

She sheepishly stepped into the room off to the side of the grand hall, the jarl swiftly closing the door behind them. She glanced around and realized they were in the ‘war room’, as so many jarls called their strategy areas. All of the jarl’s halls had small rooms off to the side with armor and weapons, and typically there was a decorated general standing guard. But this war room, not to her surprise, was the largest and most elaborate she had been in. A massive table centered the room with the largest, most detailed map of Skyrim she had ever seen. All the mountain tops, rivers, lakes, plains, villages, everything was marked. From Markarth to Riften. And every hold was marked with either a red, or blue flag. She tried to not study the map too much, knowing she was still on trial as an imperial spy. As her previous lover had so poignantly accused her as. 

“Please, have a seat.” The jarl gestured towards the wooden chair in front of the grand war table as he strode over to the other side. She eyed him suspiciously but sat down as the table provided a safety barrier between the two of them. Though he didn’t seem nearly as tense. He didn’t even look to have a weapon on him. Perhaps that’s why you were captured in Darkwater Crossing she thought bitterly to herself. 

“Now, does the dragonborn have a name or shall I call you dragonborn?” He asked, cocking his head at her as he sprawled in his chair across from her. She chuckled and shook her head as she gazed at this massive stature of a man, clearly trying to intimidate her.

“Theodora.” She responded plainly. He seemed amused by the fact she was not arrogant enough to demand to be referred to as her legendary attribute.

“ Just Theodora?” He asked. She furrowed her brow at him in confusion.

“Just Theodora.” She repeated. 

“You have no family name?” He pressed. She grit her teeth and kept from saying is that any of your business Stormcloak?

“No. Not anymore.” She cleared her throat and kept her snide comments to herself.

“Alright just Theodora,” He chuckled at her, clearly amused with her restraint, “What brings you to Windhelm?”

She narrowed her eyes at him in confusion with his question, “We received word there was a dragon and our services were needed, we came, we serviced.”

“Quite impressively might I add. I frankly didn’t believe you would show. Word around the jarls is you have been to every single hold, collecting bounties, running errands for the jarls and their people. Every single hold, well except Windhelm.” He stated. She kept quiet, unsure if there was a question lingering or if he was merely prefacing an accusation.

“Is there a reason you haven’t come to Windhelm before?”

She sighed and shook her head, “It’s rather cold.”

His chuckle caught her by surprise as he shook his head, “No other reason?”

She exhaled and felt her annoyance brewing with his coyness. She knew what he was playing at, but he refused to outright ask her. 

“If I were working for Tullius do you really think I would risk my life for a simple bounty collection?” She said bitterly trying to keep the bite to a minimum. 

“ Are you working for Tullius?” He asked plainly. 

“No. I’ve been to Solitude but that had to do with Alduin.” She shot at him defensively.

“Ah yes, Alduin. I remember. I was in Helgen.” He nodded slowly. She furrowed her brow at him realizing the brute didn’t remember her. She wanted to be offended, but that seemed to suit his character, too arrogant to remember the peasant prisoner on the cart next to him sentenced to death. Perhaps if he was in the dungeons with her he’d remember her then. 

“Whiterun is rather neutral in this war. Is that why you have taken to living there?” He continued after she grew quiet with her bitter thoughts brewing. 

She sighed and shook her head, “Whiterun was the first home I could afford. And it’s the central most hold, makes it easier for traveling.” 

“So you have no stance in the war?”

“I have been a tad busy staying out of it and hunting down damn Alduin.” She spat in irritation, immediately realizing her mistake and wincing at her tone. She waited, wondering if perhaps she had gone too far. But she swore a flicker of amusement crossed the jarl’s face.

“Well, just Theodora, I say it’s about time we change that, now that Alduin is taken care of, of course.”

She sighed and sat back in her chair, she was a damn fool for thinking she could escape the capital of the rebellion without being recruited, “What did you have in mind?”

“I have a proposition for you.” He said immediately. 

“You want me to speak to Bolgruuf.” She finished for him. He cocked his head at her in confusion but chuckled. She was surprised at the small smile that crept across his hardened face, his eyes lightening as he laughed.

“No. Bolgruuf will come around. He is a true nord, and so are you .”

She stayed silent and waited for him to continue, unsure what exactly he wanted from her if not to persuade her jarl to join forces, something she knew Ulfric had been pressuring him to do for weeks. Not only was Whiterun pivotal to her for travel purposes and access to the different holds, but it was even more crucial to Ulfric who could use it to keep troops in the center of all of Skyrim and encroach even farther into Solitude region. 

“What do you want from me?” She asked after tense silence filled the space between the two. He stared at her intently, his head cocked as if he were studying her face, trying to gauge whether she was being honest, or if she were truly an undercover imperial spy. She knew she wasn’t an imperial spy, but with the burning glare on her, she felt like she was Tullius’ right hand.

“I would like you, Theodora, to do what is right, what your true destiny is as a nord” He said sternly after a moment, leaning forward and propping his elbows on the desk in front of him, his eyes focusing in on hers with intensity.

“To help me win this war against the damn Empire, to bring Skyrim back to its former glory. No, bring Skyrim to a new sense of glory it has never seen before. One without an Empire ruling its people, taxing its hard working citizens, prosecuting them for worshiping our god Talos.”

“In other words, you would like me to hand you Tullius’s head on a silver plate.” She sighed as she listened to the jarl bargain for her to join his arsenal, to be his new shiny weapon. He chuckled at her catching her by surprise, she was half expecting that comment to land her in the palace dungeon’s for a few moons. But his hardened face relaxed into a soft smile, jarring her even more.

“I’ll make you a deal. Stay here in the palace for a few days. I will put you and your… companion in a couple of our guest lodges. You can stay, meet with my men, train with my men, have a few of the best meals of your life, the finest wine of your life, and then you can decide if you really want to refuse my offer. But I can assure you, this is an offer you will want to take. After all, the longer you stay in Windhelm, the longer you are safe from the thalmor.” He said smugly, a wicked grin creeping over his face. She reflexively tensed her body, her attention sharpening, her pulse quickening. The damn thalmor, she and Lydia spent every day wondering if the next corner they took would be their faithless elven enemies waiting to ambush them. 

“Ah, I seem to have piqued your interest now.” He chuckled smugly, his brow raising with amusement at her sudden shift. She sighed and realized he may be right. If she aided the Stormcloaks and they won the war, she wouldn’t have to worry about the thalmor hunting her down. She’d be free at last. If she survived to see the day of course. 

She sighed and slowly nodded in defeat, a satisfied grin breaking across the jarl’s face. 

What in Talos’s name just happened?

Chapter 9

Lydia kept tense as her thane reappeared from the room, Theodora knew her face was probably drained of all color and her eyes were wide with confusion as she tried to process what had just happened. Did she really just enlist? No, she certainly only agreed to stay a couple days. She nodded towards the palace doors as she briskly walked with her housecarl to the end of the hall. 

“I’m dying here, what happened in there?” Lydia bursted as soon as the palace doors closed behind them and the harsh Windhelm air hit their faces. Theodora couldn’t help but laugh, as she still had a hard time grasping what exactly happened. 

“It… looks like we’re staying a few days.”

“Why? Another bounty?”

“No, I mean staying in the palace.” 

Lydia stopped in front of her thane and gawked at her in surprise, “What do you mean we’re staying in the palace?”

Theodora sighed and quickly but quietly repeated nearly everything the jarl had said to her. Lydia’s eyes and mouth gaping open with horror with each word repeated.

“Oh my thane what have you gotten us into?”

“What? I didn’t sign our lives away. I just agreed to hear him out. No harm no foul!” Theodora said defensively. Lydia shot her a condescending look and shook her head.

“You’re a fool if you think the jarl will let us walk out of those doors in a week's time after training with his men, hearing their strategies, their war plans. Honestly my thane.”

Theodora stopped in their tracks and for the first time, felt anger brewing deep in her gut towards her housecarl. And she had a sense the feeling was mutual.

“Okay you know what Lydia, you are more than welcome to go back to Whiterun. Would you have preferred I refuse free lodging and meals, refuse the most powerful man in the entire country and tell him no, that’s not really worth our time . What would you suggest I do?” Theodora snapped at her housecarl. Lydia sunk back and her cheeks flushed in embarrassment as she shook her head.

“I’m sorry my thane. I mean no offense I just… I want you to be careful.”

“After everything we’ve been through you’re still worried about my capabilities?” Theodora whispered harshly as she glanced around at the passing guards. Both of them sunk into the corner of the town, out of the path of the guards.

“It’s not your capabilities I’m worried about. Ulfric is a very powerful man. He has an entire army falling for his words and promises. I just don’t want you to fall victim to his persuasions.” Lydia whispered back, “There’s a reason he’s the leader of the rebellion. He can be very convincing. And not in a good way.”

Theodora sighed and shook her head, “Trust me, I’m taking all he says with a grain of salt. Might I remind you I have seen what the Empire is capable of first hand, I’m not exactly inclined to aid their side. And he’s not lying about us being safe from the thalmor here, to me that’s all the convincing I really need.”

Lydia’s eyes wandered around the town square, watching the townsfolk pass by and keeping her hand on her sword ready to lunge at any moment, just as she always did for her thane. Theodora felt bad for snapping at her, she knew Lydia was the only person in the entire country that genuinely cared for her wellbeing. Even if it was her civic duty. 

“You lead, I'll follow.” Lydia said after a moment. Theodora sighed and shook her head at her loyal housecarl.

“Lydia I mean it, if you don’t want to do this you are free to leave. Take Cyrus back to Whiterun, take over our home, do what you please. You are hereby relieved of any obligatory duties as my housecarl.”

Lydia’s eyes snapped to her thane, her face struck with horror as she furrowed her brow and her mouth turned into a sour frown. Theodora had never seen her so offended.

“I’m not going anywhere without you. And for the record, you will always be my thane. Now, let’s go get our shit and scope out the marketplace. We’re going to need some warmer armor if we’re staying in this ice town.”

Theodora chuckled at her dearest friend and nodded, “Agreed. I haven’t felt my toes since we left Whiterun.”

Chapter 10

Notes:

POV of Ulfric

Galmar was in disbelief as Ulfric detailed his productive conversation with the dragonborn. 

“Did you really doubt my abilities to obtain the dragonborn?” Ulfric chuckled, he couldn’t help but be rather satisfied with himself. He was expecting to have to be much more forceful with the woman, perhaps even offer to pay her to stay. But he could see the fear in her eyes when he even uttered the thalmor. Something he was all too familiar with. 

“Of course not, but are you sure she can be trusted?” Galmar grumbled as they stood in the back courtyard as the soldiers performed their daily training. The wind was brutal, but it helped the soldiers become more adapted to the harsh conditions of war. If they couldn’t stand a little cold, they had no chance of surviving, and they certainly had no place in his arsenal. Ulfric sighed and replayed the interaction with the infamous dragonborn over and over. The way her cheeks reddened each time she grew annoyed with his words. He was more amused than offended at how irritable she was. A true spitfire. No doubt that translated well to striking down her enemies. She certainly was not what he was expecting. She was a nord, but her hair was the color of a clear night sky, her eyes almost as dark but more the color of fine oak. She was strangely… familiar. He felt at ease around her, no feelings of mistrust haunted his mind as he spoke to her. Perhaps Talos had brought her to him for a reason.

“Oh she can be trusted. I have a feeling about her.” Ulfric said smugly at his general.

“Yes of course, you and your feelings .” Galmar chuckled, “Where is the little vixen anyway.”

“Gathering her things from Candlehearth, I’m having them stay in the guest lodges. I told her to report this afternoon, train with you and your men.” Ulfric responded. Galmar huffed in amusement but did not argue.

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t morbidly curious about her capabilities.”

Ulfric nodded and imagined it. Imagined the sound of her thu’um. How he was curious to hear the thu’um uttered from a woman. All of the old greybeards were men, the only one’s he knew that could conjure a thu’um. But the dragonborn… her thu’um would be immaculately more powerful.

“She hasn’t agreed to anything yet. Remember Galmar, we are persuading the dragonborn.”

“You want me to woo the lass?”

Ulfric chuckled and shook his head feeling a strange sense of offense at this comment, “No, I want you to make her realize she should have joined the war long ago. I am going to see how much I can get out of her. She is rather… stubborn. But she and her housecarl have been all around Skyrim, they may be holding crucial information they don’t even realize could give us an advantage.”

“If they are wise they will give up all the intel on Tullius they have, if they want to keep their heads.” Galmar grumbled. 

“Hmph, poor choice of words my friend.” Ulfric sighed at him and shook his head. Even though it had been a year since his near defeat in Darkwater Crossing, where the damn imperials ambushed and captured him. He hadn’t left Windhelm since. He didn’t want to risk ending the war again. The odds of a dragon saving his skin twice in one lifetime was not a bet he wanted to take. But the dragonborn? Now that was something he could bet on. 

Chapter 11

“So what exactly is expected of us?” Lydia whispered to Theodora as they began their trek back to the palace after a late morning and early afternoon in the market, mingling with the shopkeepers and gauging who had the best prices, and who was best to avoid unless they wanted to sell their souls. Surprisingly, Windhelm had a rather diverse market. They both were able to buy thicker leather armor with fur lining, plus they had their swords sharpened and their bow strings restrung for a rather fair price. The blacksmith there seemed enthused to be showing off his craft in the presence of two travelers from Whiterun. After all, all the blacksmiths in Skyrim were bending their backs to try and upscale Eorlund Gray-Mane.

“I don’t know. I imagine they’ll want to see what we’re capable of.” Theodora sighed as they walked up the broken steps to the palace, avoiding the spots of slick ice that would send them all the way down to the stables. She hoped their horses were faring well in the cold, and the stable workers weren’t stingy with the grain. 

“Ha. They’ll want to see what you’re capable of my thane.” Lydia chuckled, “Try to not get us killed with your thu’um.”

Theodora laughed and shook her head, “You’re forgetting these men are the few that have probably heard the thu’um.”

Lydia shuddered, “Sometimes I forget you are not the only one capable.”

“Well, better to be on the side with two people who can conjure a thu’um, than going against one.” Theodora pointed out. She had to admit she was rather curious to see Ulfric’s thu’um in action, both of them using it together would blow away the entire imperial fleet. Tullius wouldn’t have a weapon that would even compare to the power of the thu’um. And she knew, that Ulfric knew that. 

They walked in the palace and were greeted by a short nord, or rather he just seemed short now that Theodora had been in the presence of the jarl. He had a thick, bushy mustache that was far overgrown and covered most of his mouth. He didn’t wear armor, but stood at the front of the palace. He must have been the steward. 

“Dragonborn, welcome to Windhelm. I am the jarl’s steward. Please, follow me and I will show you two to your quarters.”

They followed the cordial steward through a door off to the side of the grand hall, it opened to a set of stone stairs in a cobblestone corridor lined with dim sconces, no natural light anywhere in the dark and cold hall. A few guards were posted, barely glancing in their direction as they briskly walked behind the squirrelly steward, bouncing with each step as he effortlessly guided them to their rooms.

“Dragonborn, your room is down this corridor, and your friend…”

“Lydia.” Theodora sighed at the lack of cordialness extended to her friend. Lydia was not fazed, she was more than used to being in the background. 

“ Lydia , apologies, your room is down this corridor.” The steward pointed in the opposite direction, “Your rooms should be well prepared, and inside you’ll find a fresh set of armor. The jarl has asked you to dress in such and head to the courtyard.”

Theodora shot Lydia a look and Lydia gave her a I told you so glance.

“Thank you. I’m sure our rooms will be more than accommodating. What’s your name?” Theodora cleared her throat and turned back to the steward.

“Jorleif, my lady.”

“Alright, thank you Jorleif we will… head to the courtyard.” Theodora nodded.

“I will wait and escort the two of you. I will be in the grand hall waiting. Thank you.” Jorleif nodded before quickly disappearing back down the corridor. Theodora chuckled to herself at the strange man, but she already preferred him to Bolgruuf’s obnoxious and pompous steward. 

“Last chance.” Theodora said to Lydia with an amused grin. Lydia rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“I go where you go my thane. Even if it means dressing in blue.” She said bitterly but gave her thane a reassuring smile, “Come on, we shouldn’t keep the men waiting.”

Theodora exhaled and turned to walk down the short corridor to her right with a heavy steel door at the end of it. She unlatched the handle and pushed it open, immediately in awe at the room before her. A grand bed centered in the room with the finest linens she had ever seen. A fire pit in the corner already roaring with life; a desk on the opposite wall with a mirror attached, a dresser, a chair she could sit in to fix her hair, and a chest at the foot of her bed for her belongings. Not to mention the ceiling was lined with lit sconces giving the room a much warmer glow than the outside corridor. And the room had a window, letting in a small amount of fresh light hidden behind a long blue banister. A crest of Windhelm, of course. 

She set her knapsack on the ground next to the bed as she pressed her fingers to the mattress and instantly felt like collapsing. It was much softer than the previous mattress she had slept on, and the linens were the most luxurious she had ever felt. Blue linens of course, with a bear skin fur at the foot of the bed. Either all the generals were living like jarls in this palace, or the jarl truly was pulling out all of the stops to convince her to stay. She had to admit, it was rather tempting. 

And even more tempting as she craned her head around and noticed a small room off to the side. She pushed open the door sheepishly and felt weak at the sight of a grand polished bath, soaps and candles lining the edges. And her own personal toilet. No shitting in a bucket or a hole dug behind a tree. 

Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to stay a few days. Maybe even a week. 

She turned back to the main room and sighed as she opened the dresser and noticed the freshly made leather uniform. One she was all too familiar with. The Stormcloak cuirass. She felt the blue cloth in her hand and shuddered remembering the last time she had felt it touch her skin. The way the leather clung to her when drenched in blood and sweat. The smell of the stained blue cloth turning slightly purple with the mixture of blood spatter. But, at least this cuirass wasn’t being pried off a dead soldier. Not yet at least. 

She pulled it on and focused on her breathing as the memories began to flood her mind. Alright Theo you’re an honorary Stormcloak now . She felt the lump reappear in her throat. She wondered if somewhere out there, at one of the many Stormcloak camps around each hold, was the man who watched her go from being just a child, to being a full blown warrior. Who watched her take her first life. And who made her a woman, taking her innocence. 

She jumped and her stomach lurched as her door opened and Lydia entered, unfazed by her half naked thane.

“Are you alright? You look pale.” Lydia asked as she closed the door behind her and glanced around the room. 

“I’m always pale, Lydia.” Theodora cleared her throat and tried to shake off the memories. Blood. Screaming. Burning bodies. Bones breaking. Blood pooling. Walls crumbling. Ralof’s hand gripped around her arm pulling her along through the dungeon. His skin caked in blood. Her skin caked in blood. 

“Theodora, are you sure you’re alright, are you sick?” 

Theodora snapped her attention back as she wiped the sweat off her brow and took a deep breath. Lydia was eyeing her, her hazel eyes wide with worry as she hovered by her thane. Theodora began to feel calm as she realized Lydia looked rather dashing in the Stormcloak cuirass. The blue brought out her rosy cheeks and pitch dark hair. She chuckled and shook her head.

“Sorry Lyd, just, not great memories associated with this armor. Sometimes it just hits me.” Theodora cleared her throat and swallowed the lump away. Lydia sighed and stepped back.

“I can imagine. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Oh I’ll be fine Lydia, you know me. Now, let’s go see what these boys are capable of. The sooner we get this over with the sooner we can sleep in a decent bed.” Theodora said as she pulled on the fur boots and finished tightening the straps to her armor. She had to admit it was rather comfortable and quite warm, and much more malleable so she could swing and block easier. 

“I think I’m more looking forward to the meals. If the stew in the inn was that good I can only imagine how good it’s prepared in the palace.” Lydia chuckled in agreement. Theodora smiled reassuringly at her housecarl, hoping Lydia would stay with her past training. It was rather selfish of her she knew, but she was more than relieved Lydia had refused her offer to trek back to Whiterun alone. 

She quickly tucked her belongings in the chest and locked it up, taking the key and tucking it in her cuirass pocket. Though she wouldn’t put it past the jarl to have copies of each key. She ran through her mind but knew she barely had any belongings with her, just the dragon scales and bones, a change of clothes, some rations, some potions, and… ugh. She had her journal. Her damned journal she tried to use to alleviate her nightmares, but it didn’t help. But she ignored that, she knew they needed to get out to the courtyard. She could worry about better hiding her things if she survived the afternoon.

Chapter 12

Jorleif was waiting for them at the end of the hall, where he quickly escorted them to the back courtyard. Theodora gazed in amazement at the amount of soldiers in the massive training yard, she had no idea something so huge was hidden behind the palace. Dozens upon dozens of archery targets, sparring squares, practice dummies, anything one would need for training was there, including any weapon imaginable. Theodora’s eyes wandered pathetically around, desperately hoping the familiar silver eyes of her old companion would meet hers, that after a long year they would be reunited. But none of the eyes met hers with familiarity.

“You two! Which one of you is the so-called dragonborn?”

Theodora and Lydia turned to see who was barking at them. Lydia stepped behind her thane as Theodora groaned, practically the entire courtyard turned as they heard what the general had said. So much for keeping a low profile. 

“I am, sir.” Theodora responded, trying to keep her face neutral and not full of frustration. A somewhat short in stature man approached her, he was wearing a uniform different from the rest, it was made out of cave bear pelt and steel. Theodora grit her jaw to keep from laughing as she noticed the helmet the general was wearing was merely a bear’s face, making it look like his gray, balding head was being consumed by a bear. 

“Prove it.” The man barked at her, his voice rough like he had never spoken below a shout in all of his years. She furrowed her brow at him and opened her mouth to question him.

“You want me to… prove it?” She chuckled. The entire courtyard had halted their training and was watching. 

“You got feathers in your ears? Yes, prove you’re the so-called dragonborn and not some imperial spy.” The general commanded her. She looked around and took note of the amount of soldiers behind the general, there were a few, but they were a considerable distance away. She shrugged and cleared her throat.

“ Fus.”

The general was sent flying back onto the ice covered ground as the rest of the soldiers cowered at the loud sound echoing in the courtyard. Lydia had instinctively moved to the side and covered her ears, she had been in the direct line of Theodora’s thu’ums too many times to not know when to get out of the way. Theodora waited to see if she would be berated for hitting the general with her thu’um, perhaps even attacked, but the grumbling general merely pushed himself to his feet and laughed a hearty chuckle.

“By the gods, I never thought I’d see the day.” He chuckled as he wiped the snow off of his armor and walked back over to her, “You’ll make a fine addition to our cause.”

Theodora frowned but did not argue, “What exactly is needed of me?”

“Jarl Ulfric wants to test your skill in battle. So go on, grab your weapon of choice.”

“And who will I be sparring?” She furrowed her brow at him as she shot Lydia a look.

“You’ll be sparring me of course, how else am I to judge your capabilities. And don’t you dare think of throwing the spar, I’ll know it. Now, get your dragonborn ass moving, I haven’t got all day.” The general barked at her. Theodora rolled her eyes but figured it was probably best, especially since she recently consumed a dragonsoul and it always gave her attacks a little extra umph . She walked over to the weapon rack and grabbed a simple sword and shield, giving them a few light tosses to gauge their weight as she slid her hand into the shield straps and tightened it against her wrist.

“Alright, let’s do this shall we?” Theodora sighed as she gripped the sword tightly in her glove. 

“Ladies first, take a swing. And don’t worry, I can take it.” He grumbled smugly. Theodora readied her stance and couldn’t help but chuckle, yeah I’ll be the judge of that . She lunged forward at the general, bashing her shield against his, causing him to stumble back unexpectedly. She then took her opportunity and swung her sword against the steel part of his armor so it wouldn’t actually hurt him (and she wouldn’t be thrown in the dungeons). 

“Alright… not bad.” He panted as she stood back and let him gather himself. The other soldiers had completely stopped their sparring and were gathering around for the show. Theodora braced herself knowing he then was going to strike. The general lunged forward with a deep grunt and tried to catch her in the chest with his sword, to knock the wind out of her, but she threw up her shield and pushed back, stunning him backwards a few steps. But he didn’t give up, he repeatedly swung his sword at her as she struck him with her shield, pushing him backwards each time. When she was able, she’d swing at his armor, catching him off guard with a grunt of shock. As he began to tire, and the sweat dripped from his face, Theodora took her chance and swung her shield hard, stunning him hard and sweeping his legs causing him to once again, fall onto the icy ground. A murmur of grunts and shock came from the audience as she sighed and sheathed her sword, perhaps she had gone too far. She walked over to the general and held out her hand, his face was covered with blood from her shield hitting him but he wiped it on his sleeve and chuckled heartily at her.

“Well well well, looks like I owe Ulfric a drink.” He chuckled as he took her hand and she pulled him off the ground, “The rest of you lot, get back to practicing before I make you all nightwatch.”

She glanced over at Lydia with confusion at what the old general meant by he owed the jarl a drink, was the jarl really placing bets on her already? Was she just a means of entertainment to him? Lydia shrugged as if to say don’t sweat it my thane , which she often had to do when Theodora let her mind wander. Theodora glanced over and felt her body go numb as she saw the familiar massive figure standing at the entry to the courtyard, his eyes piercing deep into hers. She quickly looked away, not wanting to know if he was impressed, or disappointed in her abilities. But for the rest of the afternoon she found her gaze drifting over, waiting to see if he would still be there, watching her. 

Theodora and Lydia watched, and engaged in the training all afternoon. The soldiers were in considerably good shape, especially since they were the new recruits. Theodora learned that the general she had knocked on his ass twice was named Galmar, and he was the jarl’s top general. She figured they were close because he often referred to the jarl as simply ‘Ulfric’. Each time he said the jarl’s name it would send shivers down Theodora’s spine. She never did see the jarl again during training, perhaps he was less than impressed with her performance and had seen enough. 

Both Theodora and Lydia were able to show their skills with their weapons of choice: the bow. Each of them sinking bullseye after bullseye, impressing the rest of the new soldiers. Theodora wanted to tell them you kind of have to be good when you’re shooting at a flying dragon, but she figured she would take the props where she could. 

By the end of the afternoon Theodora saw Lydia begin to relax, and she even seemed to be enjoying herself among the soldiers. Theodora was grateful the fiery redhead she had bedded the night before was nowhere in the crowd, and she wondered if Lydia’s suitor was around. But she knew one aspect of war was the only thing the soldiers could do when they weren’t training, was either drinking, or fucking. Siobhan and Lydia’s companion had probably already moved on. Her heart sank as she realized that thought very well could translate to Ralof. She hated how much that killed her. How many women he’s probably bedded since he left her. If he was even still alive… 

Theodora did as she promised and spent the afternoon listening to the soldiers, asking them why they joined, hearing their stories. She nodded politely through the repeated stories of those damn imperials can’t decide who we should worship and Ulfric is the true high king of Skyrim, I won’t rest until he’s on the throne . But the most earnest one’s were the sons and daughters of the farmers, the merchants, the ‘peasants’ of Skyrim who were taxed and abused at the hand of the empire, barely making enough coin to feed their children, slowly losing everything they had because the empire grew greedier and greedier, but didn’t aid the citizens at all.

“Jarl Ulfric has done more for the citizens of Windhelm than the Empire has ever done for all of Skyrim. He’s given us hope.” One soldier boasted as if Ulfric had personally saved his life. Theodora wanted to argue, ask what Ulfric exactly has done for the citizens of Windhelm other than neglect the dark elves, but she didn’t want to start a brawl. She had to give it to Ulfric though, no imperial she had ever come across has spoken so highly of Tullius as the Stormcloaks did for Ulfric. But that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. Ulfric could simply have them all brainwashed, dangling hope in front of them just to get what he wants. 

Theodora wasn’t convinced, but she wasn’t ready to throw in the towel either. She felt strangely at ease in the sea of blue, like she could relax, take her hand away from her sword, she felt like she could breathe and not worry about a dagger in her back. It was a strange feeling. A terrifying feeling. She didn’t want to relax too much, that’s how one ends up on a chopping block. Again. 

Chapter 13

Theodora was drenched in sweat by the end of the afternoon as everyone began to pile back into the palace to prepare for dinner. She and Lydia excused themselves and headed to their respective rooms, Theodora had been looking forward to bathing all afternoon. She swung open the heavy door and jumped as she noticed a woman standing by her dresser, holding a set of clothes. She wasn’t a soldier, she was wearing regular clothes, similar to the barkeep in Candlehearth. Her hair was reddish blonde and frizzy, tied into a messy bun on top of her head. Her face was wrinkled, she was certainly older but had the energy of a young woman as she quickly bounced into greeting mode.

    “Good afternoon my lady. My name is Rose, I’ll be tending to your room. Here are some fresh clothes for you.” The woman said gesturing towards the small pile of blue robes she was holding as she set them down on the wooden dresser. 

    “Oh uhm, thank you Rose. I am Theodora. What are uhm, what are these clothes for? I thought the soldiers stayed in their armor.” Theodora asked in embarrassment as she nodded towards the clothing. Rose smiled politely at her and shook her head.

    “The jarl has requested you attend dinner in his private quarters. He thought these robes would be more comfortable for you.” Rose said. Theodora eyed the woman suspiciously. Her face seemed earnest, no worry in her eyes so Theodora figured she wasn’t about to be murdered. She exhaled softly and nodded politely.

    “Okay, thank you Rose. I appreciate it.” 

    “Of course my lady. I will be around to get you in a bit to escort you to the jarl’s quarters.” She said as she curtseyed slightly and excused herself from the room. Theodora waited for the door to close before inquisitively walking over to the pile of clothes. She picked up the robes and felt the silk in her hands. She had never owned such fine clothing. Mostly because she liked to invest all of her coin in the upkeep of  her armor or her weapons. At home she rotated through the same few pairs of cheap clothes whenever she and Lydia would take a few days off from traveling, but she hardly ever spent any time with anyone but Lydia in clothing other than her armor. But the jarl would probably take offense if she wore her armor to dinner.

    Dinner . With the jarl . In his private quarters . She shuddered at the realization she had been so preoccupied with the clothes she completely missed the point of the clothes. No doubt the jarl was going to interrogate her on her thoughts after the day with his men. And frankly she didn’t know what to report. Some of them seemed rather competent? They like to chatter a lot? She still couldn’t feel her toes? 

    She groaned and ignored the clothes, instead trying to focus on properly cleaning herself for the first time in days. Rose had already filled the tub with warm water and sprigs of lavender. She didn’t hesitate to peel off her grimy armor and quickly slip into the steaming tub, letting the water turn her skin red as she sunk down into the depths with a groan of relief. There truly was no better feeling than taking a hot bath after a day of traveling or fighting or really anything. Her body instantly relaxed as the fumes of lavender filled the air. She focused on her breathing as she tried to turn off her mind. Don’t think about the war. Don’t think about the fact you’re about to be alone with the jarl again. Don’t think about the fact that you may never go back to Whiterun again. Don’t think. Just… breathe…. 

    She reached over and grabbed the sweet smelling goat milk soap with rose petals laced in it, rubbing it against her sore muscles and scrubbing every inch of skin she could, multiple times. She scrubbed her scalp raw and combed her fingers through the knots that had formed, ignoring the tenderness of her head. Her hair was getting rather long again. When she left home she had chopped it off with a rusty dagger she stole from her father, and after Alduin she felt compelled to do it again, to give herself a fresh start. But once again her dark locks were pushing past her jawline, almost long enough so she’d feel obligated to braid it. And there’s nothing she hated more than braiding her hair. Her mother had spent countless hours ripping Theodora’s hair out, brushing through her locks harshly and berating her for not taking better care of her hair even though she was barely old enough to dress herself let alone upkeep her braids. 

Theodora rolled her eyes and tried to suppress that memory. She’d rather think of Helgen than think of her parents. Probably still living their miserable lives in Riften, making everyone in their path even more miserable. Though she did wonder of her older brother. Wherever he may have ended up. But she knew her family had assumed her dead, and frankly, she was fine with that. 

Eventually the water grew cold and she pulled herself out of the tub, knowing at any moment the springy Rose would be ‘escorting’ her to the jarl’s private quarters. Her stomach lurched. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast so she was starving, up until she learned she’d be having dinner with the jarl she had been looking forward to a meal. But now she wasn’t even sure if she could eat. She’d be too focused on not pissing off the great bear.

She walked back over to the fine robes and held them out. A beautifully stitched blue dress with fine silk robes and a plain pair of slippers to match. Plus fresh undergarments, which she was most excited about. Not that she spent all day soiling herself, but she spent all of her time traveling and fighting, she was almost always caked in sweat or dirt. And there truly was no better feeling than fresh undergarments. 

She pulled on the smooth dress and hated how comfortable it was, though she still felt awfully exposed. Not wearing armor wasn’t something she was particularly fond of. If there was one thing she learned since being captured by the imperials, it was to never leave your quarters without at least a dagger and a chest plate. But she was about to have dinner with one of the most powerful men in the country, with neither a dagger nor a chestplate. Just a silly little dress. Probably why he sent the robes to her, he wanted her to feel exposed and powerless in his presence. 

She sighed and sat down at her dresser, eyeing her wet hair and pink cheeks. Her skin was still red from the warm bath. She poked at her face and grimaced at how different she looked compared to a year prior. She was no longer a young lady , though it had been a very long time since she felt like a child. Her mother made sure of that. Her eyes were darkened, little lines signaling all her sleepless nights. Her cheekbones and jaw had become more distinguished from the constant travel and lack of a proper meal. But she still had weight on her hips, arms, and thighs. And her stomach certainly wasn’t like all the other nords. She was always rather larger (another thing her mother made sure she was aware of), her shoulders and hips were broad so she was even more surprised the dress seemed to fit her perfectly. You have the body of a warrior my thane, most would kill for your stature she chuckled remembering Lydia’s persistent words each time Theodora grimaced at the extra weight around her hips.

She brushed through her hair quickly and smoothed it behind her ears, though when it dried she knew it would spring out in any direction it pleased. Her hands were shaking as if she were about to go into battle. Perhaps she was. She would need to keep her wits about her, and more importantly, her mouth shut as much as possible. She worried the jarl would press for details about Alduin. She tried to keep those details to herself as much as possible since the last remaining members of the Blades, Delphine and Esbern, were still hiding out in the abandoned temple near Markarth, and were actively being hunted by the thalmor. Plus her mind was haunted with the memories of transcending to Sovngarde, unsure if she would ever return to life and see the light of day again. Sometimes when she slept she dreamt she was there again… seeing the faces of dead soldiers… seeing those she had killed with her own sword… 

A knock at the door caused her to nearly fall off her chair. She tossed her head back and groaned, closing her eyes and wishing it was Rose telling her the jarl changed his mind after all and doesn’t want to press her for details. She pushed herself up from the chair and wiped the wrinkles out of her dress, hoping she looked presentable enough for his highness. Though he was probably used to much classier, and more refined female company. Gods only know who the jarl fancied to have in his quarters late at night. He probably had the finest, purest most regally bred and raised woman just waiting for him to be crowned king so he could marry her. Disgusting . 

She stood up to open the door but it whipped open, she instantly relaxed as she saw her housecarl quickly walk in and close the door. Her face lit up in amusement as she saw her thane dressed in fine clothing rather than sullied armor.

“Well well well, I didn’t get a fancy outfit. The jarl must like you.” Lydia teased as she closed the door behind her and walked over to Theodora’s bed, plopping down on it. Theodora felt her face turn the shade of snowberries as she rolled her eyes and tried to shake off the intense blushing.

“Oh stop. He merely wants to sell his cause to me. He has invited me to a private dinner to discuss such…” Theodora said as she turned to face her housecarl, who also was freshly bathed. Her dark brown bangs tied back behind her ears letting the length of her hair flow down under. 

“Speaking of which. What are you thinking?” Theodora added, “Before I go in there, before I agree or disagree to anything I want to know how you feel about… all of this.”

Lydia sighed and scrunched her face, “Honestly?”

Theodora nodded, “Honestly.”

“I think we should stay.” Lydia shrugged sheepishly, “I… well after spending the day here. I don’t know. It just feels… It feels like this is where we should be. These men and women are all nords, just like us, they care for their home, just like us. I mean, how long have we been running from the thalmor?”

“ Too long.” Theodora groaned and shook her head.

“Exactly. I know I was…. Hesitant before. But my gut is saying we stay. That is of course, as long as the jarl doesn’t tell you he plans to sell us to the thalmor in exchange for the throne.” Lydia continued. 

“Oh by the gods wouldn’t that be a twisted change of fate.” Theodora couldn't help but chuckle. 

“And… the rooms are awfully nice. No way Solitude treats its guests with such luxury.” Lydia teased.

“No, they much prefer execution before trial.” Theodora shook her head, “And that’s another thing. I don’t think the jarl remembers me.”

Lydia sighed and shrugged, smoothing her armor out as she pushed herself off the bed, “He’s sort of an important man, he may have been too focused on Alduin to really remember anyone else. And besides, didn’t you say your face was busted in from them taking you?”

Theodora clicked her tongue and nodded, “Yes I suppose you’re right.”

“I usually am my thane.” She teased with a smug grin. She walked over and patted her thane on the shoulder, “By the way, you look very nice.”

“Oh please, I look like a fool. My mother would be so proud.”

Lydia gave her a reassuring smile and patted her once more, “Alright, I’ll get out of here before those animals drink all the good mead. Fill me in tomorrow?”

“Always my friend, don’t get yourself into any trouble without me.” Theodora chuckled.

“You know I can’t promise that. Goodnight my thane, and try to keep your snarkiness to a minimum, men don’t like that.” Lydia teased.

“Oh now you sound like my mother.”

She heard Lydia chuckle as she closed the door behind her and she sunk back into her chair. She felt a strange sense of relief that Lydia was rather obliged to stay. She figured it was because she now knew she wouldn’t necessarily have to say no to the jarl. Her grace period ended as she heard footsteps approach her door once more, followed by a more forceful knock. It was tim e to give the jarl an answer.

Chapter 14

She exhaled one last time knowing it would be hours before she could relax, and whipped open the door. But much to her surprise, she was not greeted by the bouncing wispy haired servant. She froze in shock as her eyes met the gaze of the jarl’s, towering over her as usual, wearing robes different than she had seen this morning. He was still wearing his steel plated armor of course, but he had finer, more dignified blue robes around his stature. The crest of Eastmarch pinned to his chest. He looked… different. She realized his face was freshly shaved, his beard neatly trimmed, and his hair was smoothly braided. Clearly, he had cleaned up as well.

“Good evening Theodora, I trust you have been settling in well?” The jarl spoke, the smoothness of his deep voice sending shivers across Theodora’s skin. She cleared her throat nervously and nodded.

“Oh uhm, yes everything is… more than accommodating, thank you.” She said trying to keep her voice steady and not reveal her nerves. But she couldn’t help but be confused as to why the jarl was greeting her, and not Rose. She watched as he held out his forearm slightly to her.

“Please, allow me to escort you to dinner. I hope your housecarl will be fine without your presence in the grand hall.” The jarl said as he continued to hold out his arm. She exhaled slightly and pressed her palm gently against his thick forearm, his robes similar to hers in feel and luxury. She hoped he didn’t notice the trembling in her fingers against his arm. 

They began to walk down the dimly lit corridor as Theodora focused on not tripping over her dress as it brushed the tips of her shoes. All she heard in her mind was her mother nagging her Keep your posture straight Theodora you look like you’re one of the afflicted . She tensed as the jarl shifted his arm moving closer to her, she could feel the heat radiating from his body. She noticed he had a sweet musk to him, not like the other soldiers who mostly reeked of sweat and ale. He smelt… different. Of course he smelt good, he was the jarl. He wasn’t out on the battlefield getting excrement sprayed over him. 

“You look very nice tonight, I’m happy the robes fit you.” The jarl spoke, breaking the silence, jerking her attention away from figuring out why he smelt so… intoxicating. Her eyes widened and she could feel her entire face reddening with embarrassment.

“Oh… yes thank you it’s… certainly a change of pace not wearing armor.” She cleared her throat. He stopped at the end of the hall and broke his arm away. She reflexively stepped back and smoothed out her dress nervously as she realized they were at his private quarters. He pushed open the door and stepped to the side, gesturing for her to go first. She exhaled and stepped forward into the room. The jarl’s room. She had never been in a jarl’s private quarters before. She couldn’t help but glance around the grand room. It was similar to hers in setup. A massive bed in the middle of the room, but his had a grand wooden bedframe. The ceiling stretched far up with a skylight at the top letting in a small patch of light. 

“Please, have a seat. May I pour you some wine?”

Her attention jerked back to the jarl, remembering he was hovering behind her probably watching her gaze around his room. 

“Oh… yes, thank you.” She nodded slightly and felt embarrassment creep over her for no reason other than simply being in the jarl’s private quarters. She glanced over and noted he was gesturing towards a round wooden table with two place settings, two goblets, two plates with fine silver lids atop them, and a vase of snowberries in the middle between a set of lit candles. Blue linen napkins were folded on the side along with fine silverware. She prayed to the gods she wasn’t about to make a massive fool of herself. She was only a poor girl from Riften. She and Lydia shared rabbit legs and stale bread on their travels, swigging from looted bottles of warm mead. She had dined with jarl Bolgruuf’s court before, but she was always seated with Lydia and the other thanes of Whiterun. Never anywhere near Bolgruuf. 

She nervously sat down in the padded wooden chair the jarl was holding out for her and watched as he circled around her and sat in the chair opposite of her. She waited patiently, not wanting to speak without being spoken to, not wanting to move without being instructed. It was best to play it as safe as possible. 

“So, how was your day with my men?” The jarl broke the silence once more as he popped the cork from the glass bottle in his hand and poured sweet red liquid into her goblet. 

“It was… productive. They are all very competent.” She spoke plainly as she kept her posture straight and her hands clasped in her lap. All of her mother’s ridiculous nagging over the years finally came to play. 

“And so are you, as I hear.” He smirked at her. She felt her cheeks redden as she shook her head.

“I’ve had… a lot of practice.” 

“So I’ve heard, as well.” 

She sighed and kept her body tense as she eyed him, he had an amused look to him, his face not as hardened as the last time they spoke.

“What exactly have you heard?” She asked. He poured his goblet full and set the bottle down on the table.

“I’ve heard a lot of things about you. And I imagine you’ve heard a lot of things about me. But I’d rather hear it from you. The truth grows thinner and thinner with each person it passes. I don't want to make assumptions. As I don’t want you to either.” He spoke carefully after a moment. She chewed her lip as she ran through the list of things he possibly could be referring to. She had cleared out many bandit clans, but those were wanted criminals, she was rewarded for such. She’s killed many a dragon, and rewarded as such. And she’s killed… many a thalmor. Not so much looked highly upon. 

“But please, I simply wish to have a nice meal with you, get to know the legendary dragonborn . I hope you enjoy pheasant.” He broke his serious tone and let a small smile creep across his face as he reached over and lifted the lid off her plate. She remembered how starving she was when the scent of pheasant and roasted potatoes filled the air. She relaxed slightly and mimicked a polite smile. 

“I do.” She nodded and waited for him to pick up his fork. If there was one thing she knew, it was to always wait for the jarl to start eating first. Or was that just her mother nagging her to never start eating before the man in the room? 

“So, Theodora, where are you from?”

She paused mid forkful of pheasant and wished he had asked how many people she’s killed. That would have been a preferable dinner topic. 

“You are not on trial here, I am simply curious.” He added with a smug grin as he noticed her nerves getting the best of her. She sighed and set her fork down.

“Originally, Riften.” 

“Riften, really? Your family must be fishermen.” He said, raising his brow in curiosity. Her stomach flipped. The exact sentence uttered by Ralof as the walls of Helgen crumbled around them. 

“Not a pleasant subject?” He asked after she realized she grew quiet. She cleared her throat and sipped the goblet of wine, letting the smooth red liquid flow through her and hopefully calm her nerves.

“It’s all in the past.”

“You don’t have a good relationship with your family?”

She chuckled at his persistent questioning, “No. For all intended purposes I don’t have a family. Hence why I live in Whiterun.” 

“How did you get from Riften to Whiterun?”

“I walked.”

“That’s a long way to walk.”

She chuckled and remembered the jarl didn’t remember her. He was completely oblivious. He didn’t remember she was knocked out and captured not far outside of Riften and taken all the way to Helgen. 

“Yes. But the walk from Helgen to Whiterun is not.”

Chapter 15

He set his goblet down and furrowed his brow at her. His face was hardened with confusion. She was annoyed he didn’t remember her, but even more amused that she had stumped him. 

“You don’t remember me do you?” She sighed after a moment of waiting for his confusion to dissipate. He shook his head.

“I do not follow.”

She cleared her throat and leaned back in her seat as the memories of Helgen flooded through her mind. Her eyes fluttered to the ceiling like she was trying to recite something as she recounted their mutual adventure, repeating the grim words Ralof and the other prisoner spoke to her on the cart.

“ You’re finally awake. Damn imperials ambushed us. What are you doing on this cart? Not with that thief over there are you? Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along… We’re all brothers and sisters in binds now .”

The jarl exhaled deeply as his eyes widened and he finally came to the realization, this was not the first time he had encountered the dragonborn. She did not meet his eyes as she held up her wrists similar to how they were bound on the cart. 

“You were that girl.” He cleared his throat and spoke quietly after a moment. She clicked her tongue and nodded. Tense silence filled between them and she worried he would throw her in the dungeons for being an ‘escaped’ prisoner. 

“I’m sorry I did not recognize you, it has been…” 

“A year.” She finished and nodded as she exhaled, “It’s fine, it’s not exactly a day I like to remember.”

“Why were you on that cart? You were already there when they ambushed us.” Ulfric cleared his throat and cocked his head at her as if he were playing the events in his mind over again. She laughed and sipped her wine.

“Because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. All I remember is being accused of being a Stormcloak courier in disguise. Next thing I know I’m sitting on that cart with a busted face.” She answered.

“But you managed to escape. How?” 

“That other soldier helped me. We went through the keep, through the dungeons. We came out near Riverwood.”

He sat back in his seat and stared at her in amazement, his eyes wide with wonder, “You truly know the crimes of the Empire then.”

She chuckled and nodded, “I suppose.”

He narrowed his eyes on her, “You did not use your gift at Helgen.”

“I didn’t know I had it yet. The summons was after Helgen. After I killed my first dragon in Whiterun.” 

He sighed and shook his head, growing quiet for a moment as his face hardened. She fumbled with her fingers in her lap as she waited. Waited to see how the jarl would react. If he would be pissed for her not saying anything sooner, if he would accuse her of lying. But after a moment the jarl began to chuckle to himself, sipping his wine and shaking his head in amusement.

“What?” She asked.

“Old Tullius had both of us in his grasp and he let us both slip through his fingers. And fate has brought us back together. I’m sorry, it is just… amusing.” He chuckled as he stared at her. She felt a small wave of amusement flush over her as well.

“That’s a way to look at it, yes.” She chuckled. He sighed after a moment and continued to gaze at her with wonder. As if she had completely stumped him for the evening and he had forgotten all of his persuasion tactics. 

“Alright Theodora,” He exhaled after a moment, “I’ll be frank with you. What do I have to do to get you to stay?”

She chuckled at him in surprise and shook her head, “Depends, what exactly do you want out of me?”

“I want you to get me Whiterun.” 

“You think I can convince Bolgruuf. You haven’t seen stubborn until you’ve seen Bolgruuf talk about this war.” She laughed and shook her head. He cocked his head in amusement at her.

“I want you on the frontlines. But, I also want to offer you a seat in my council. After we take Whiterun and you’ve managed to prove yourself to the other generals, I plan to promote you. You know this country. And frankly so does your housecarl. If you can both prove yourselves loyal, swear yourselves to my cause. I’d see both of you being generals within the month. Ask any one of my men and they’ll tell you I am no Tullius, I do not dictate, I lead. I listen. I care for my men and my people. And I care for my home. Now you may not see yourself as having a home but Skyrim is your home. These are your people. I saw you in the courtyard today, both you and your housecarl belong here. This is your home. Now I ask, will you fight for your home?”

She sighed and listened to the jarl speak truthfully to her, her worry was telling her to ignore his persuasions, that he was simply a power-hungry opportunist attempting to win her side in the war. But as she looked at this man, this powerful leader, she did not just see a power-hungry nord, she saw a man who had honesty in his eyes. And that perhaps terrified her more than his arrogance.

Chapter 16

“Alright. We will stay.” She exhaled after a moment and felt relieved as the words came out. She had a sense the jarl was relieved as well as a wide grin crept across his face.

“ But I don’t think you’ll have much luck with Bolgruuf. He doesn’t listen to anyone except his steward and housecarl. Neither of whom support you.” She added as she sipped her wine.

“I have a courier out to him, I believe he will come around. But what exactly are his hesitations? Or, his council’s hesitations?” The jarl asked as he picked up his fork and began to eat once more. Now that the main business was taken care of, Theodora felt more at ease to do the same. She quickly chewed a bite of potato and swallowed.

“Well, his steward says, and I quote, you don’t have the ‘men nor the manhood’ to take Whiterun. And his housecarl, Irileth , is a dunmer so naturally, she despises you and all Stormcloaks and does whatever she can to get Bolgruuf to side with Tullius. But Bolgruuf has not agreed for Tullius to send in men. He does not want to relinquish control.”

The jarl chuckled with amusement at her words and shook his head, “I’ve done everything in my power to make sure the holds think I don’t have the men. Bolgruuf knows I do, he is merely stalling. He won’t get involved unless I send a stronger message.”

“The stronger message being, you have the dragonborn?” She shot at him. A smug grin crept across his face.

“More or less.”

“Well,” She sighed as she chewed another forkful of potato and quickly swallowed, “That may work with Bolgruuf. But Tullius does not respect me. He won’t be intimidated by your… acquisition.” 

“And why is that?” The jarl asked seemingly surprised. 

“Because I turned him down. I collected a bounty from Jarl Elisif and he used the chance to… try and persuade me.” Theodora responded, resisting chuckling at the eerie similarities between her current situation, and her brief encounter she had with the imperial general. Tullius was even more smug than Ulfric. But his arrogance stemmed from the coin of the empire, not from any morality or reasoning. 

“And what were his reasonings? Loyalty to a disloyal empire?” Ulfric shook his head in annoyance. She chuckled and sipped her wine as she remembered the lighthearted attempt to get her and Lydia to stay and enlist as imperial soldiers. You’ll be doing your country a great service, the empire will be in your debt Tullius had said with no true fire behind his eyes. She had a feeling he said that to every able bodied soldier he was attempting to sway.

“More or less. There was a promise of coin. Thankfully he didn’t recognize me either or I doubt I would’ve been able to leave without a fight. Again .” She stated. She could tell Ulfric was rather smitten with the fact that he had won yet another battle over Tullius. She knew that neither side truly needed her in their fight, but at least Ulfric was passionate enough to try. 

“And Elisif herself did not bleed your heart?”

She met his gaze as she sighed and remembered the man she was dining with was considered a murderer by half the people of Skyrim. She had even been present for the execution of the man that allowed Ulfric to flee Solitude after killing Torygg. But she had never considered him a murderer.

“Elisif would order my execution if she knew what I have done. Or rather, her steward would order it and she would dutifully obey.” Theodora said.

“Have you done things to warrant an execution?” He shot at her with an amused look in his eye.

“Have you?”

He chuckled and she felt her face flush at the lack of restraint she had now that the wine had been flowing through her, but the jarl did not seem cross with her quips. He seemed rather entertained.

“I would say that is another thing we have in common. One of the many things apparently.” He chuckled to himself and sipped his wine.

“Such as?” She asked, “Besides Helgen, and well… the obvious.”

He furrowed his brow at her, “What is the obvious?”

She widened her eyes nervously and cleared her throat, “The teachings of the GreyBeards… to put it one way.”

He chuckled and nodded realizing she meant their shared ability to conjure a thu’um, to ‘shout’, to destroy their enemies with a simple word. 

“Ah yes, the thu’um . I’m afraid you are far more advanced than I am in that regard. But I was going to say the thalmor have very large bounties on both our heads.”

She froze mid sip of her wine and felt the blood drain from her face again. The thalmor. The damned thalmor. She had too much experience with the thalmor, and she didn’t know how much of it the jarl knew about. And frankly she wasn’t keen to remember what she had read about regarding the jarl’s imprisonment with the thalmor. The man sitting before her making polite dinner conversation, pouring her wine, laughing at her remarks, was once held captive by the malicious group of high elves and tortured. Ripped apart for information. 

“Not a pleasant conversation for either of us I’m afraid.” He said after a moment, his tone sullen. She cleared her throat and shook her head.

“But I am morbidly curious…” He began as he poked at his dish and scooped a forkful of potato and cabbage up, “What did you do to piss them off so badly?”

She chuckled and shook her head, “That’s… a long story.”

“I have time.” He said quickly, “But if I have kept you long enough I understand you may need rest.”

She sighed and felt a strange pit in her stomach, disappointment almost.

“No. I am… not tired.”

“Good. So, the thalmor?” He asked as he scooped his fork into his mouth and waited for her to continue. She rubbed her forehead and tried to figure out the best way to explain the many crimes she had committed against the thalmor, and how much of it would potentially land her in a holding cell. 

“I… it’s complicated.”

“Theodora I can assure you anything you have done to the thalmor will only make me enjoy your company more.” Ulfric chuckled at her hesitation. She felt her face flush at his comment that he enjoyed her company already. She suppressed a foolish smile at the thought and decided she had nothing more to lose, he was right, Ulfric was probably the most trustworthy person when it came to keeping secrets from the thalmor. 

“I snuck into their embassy party and stole intel.” She admitted sheepishly. He stared at her in amazement as if that was not what he anticipated on hearing. He opened his mouth to question her but she filled in the blanks.

“In the early days of tracking down Alduin, my… confidants assumed the thalmor had something to do with it and needed me to get into their embassy to gather any intel they had.” She explained as she recounted one of her first missions after meeting Delphine, the crazy old member of the Blades that recruited her in pursuing the defeat of Alduin. 

“And what did you learn?” He pressed.

“Well they knew nothing of the dragons.” She said vaguely, but she knew he was going to continue to press her, “They thought you had something to do with it actually.”

He snorted at this and shook his head, “They think I have something to do with everything that goes wrong in this country.”

She paused and cleared her throat in hesitation, but decided if she were really going to trust this man, this great bear, this leader of the rebellion, this king killer, she was going to have to give everything she had. She was going to have to trust him completely, more than she trusted herself, and hope that he trusted her back.

“I stole their intel on you. They had a book.”

He sat back in his chair and cocked his head at her, his eyes staring intently into hers, not with anger, but more with softness.

“And what did their intel say?”

She sighed and recounted the words scrawled with hatred in the little leather bound book on Ulfric Stormcloak .

“‘Uncooperative asset’ is how they described you. They claimed they set you free and are keeping you alive, but dormant, in case they need you.” She spoke carefully, wondering which word could possibly set him off. She knew first hand, one couldn’t always control when dark memories crept into the forefront and poured out. 

But the jarl just laughed, as if she had told an amusing anecdote, and tipped back his goblet of wine, clicking his tongue and exhaling as he finished his cup.

“Well, I must say you continue to surprise me Theodora.”

“Is that a good thing?”

She felt her face flush as his eyes focused intently on hers, his icey blue stare piercing into her, an intensity in his gaze that made her stomach churn.

“Yes… very much so.” He said after a moment. She cleared her throat and broke from his gaze feeling the redness in her face intensifying. She finished her goblet of wine and set her fork down.

“I will let you get some rest. I will inform my generals of your decision to stay, but for the time being feel free to engage with my men as you see fit. Train with them, or rather, feel free to train them. I can imagine you have much more experience than they do.” The jarl said abruptly after a tense moment of silence filled the space between them. She jumped a little at his sudden change in tone and felt the strange sense of disappointment continue to churn in her stomach. Perhaps she was more intrigued by the jarl’s war strategies than she let herself believe. 

“Oh yes uhm, thank you for the…. Dinner and conversation. And for… well for putting your trust in me. I realize I am late to the war but… I wish to be of service… if I can.” She stammered feeling the wine flow through her veins. Her face matched the color of the sweet wine as she finally had made a fool of herself. The jarl chuckled as he pushed himself up from his seat and gestured with his arm once more for her to take. She tensed but gently pressed her palm to his warm forearm, trying to keep from falling over. The blood drained from her face as he pressed his free hand across hers.

“You do not need to thank me, Theodora. All the thanks are owed to you. I promise, you will not regret this decision.” He asserted as he guided her towards the door. 

“No,” She smiled softly as she felt her stomach flip at the gentle touch of the jarl’s hand pressed against hers, “I don’t think I will.”

“Goodnight Theodora.” The jarl said softly as he stopped at the edge of his quarters. She glanced up at his icy blue eyes once more and felt calmness flush over her.

“Goodnight, my jarl .”

“You know, you can call me Ulfric.”

She chuckled and felt a foolish grin creep across her embarrassed face.

“Goodnight… Ulfric .” 

Chapter 17

Theodora returned to her room and felt restless. It was nearly the middle of the night, she was full of the most delicious pheasant breast and luxurious wine she had ever had, but she had also had the most… interesting of conversations. It played through her mind on a loop as she winced at her foolish answers. Perhaps I shouldn’t have told him about that book, now he may think I’m some sort of spy. Then again if I were a spy I would’ve hid the book. But it’s not like I have it, it’s in Whiterun. Oh how foolish of me I should’ve gotten rid of it long ago.

She carefully pulled off the fine silk robes and folded them neatly, tucking them in her dresser and pulling out her usual nightgown. It felt like barbed wire compared to the fine dinner clothes. She dug through her chest and decided that since she truly had privacy, it would be a good time to scribble down her recent developments in her journal. She fumbled around her knapsack until she felt the leather tucked away wrapped in an old loin cloth. Nothing deterred people away more than a loin cloth, even if it was clean, it still had spots of her blood on it. 

She pulled the chair out from the dresser and found a quill and inkwell tucked in one of the drawers. She pulled it out and wet the fine quill, opening to the most recent page. It had been weeks since she had written. She read over her last entry.

Lydia and I have returned from Riften. It is still as dreary and miserable as I remember. Luckily, the fresh scars across my cheek, the war paint smeared across my eyes, and my completely different set of attire and new warrior figure has made it nearly impossible for anyone to recognize me. And even more luckily, I still have not run into my mother or father. Probably hiding away at home drinking themselves further into debt. And why wouldn’t they, now that they didn’t have a daughter to sell to the Thieves Guild they may as well just keep digging the hole deeper and deeper. Or an even more pleasant thought, the old cunt Maven probably had them executed once their only bargaining chip fled the city. 

All I can say is I’m glad Laila isn’t cheap when it comes to bounties on dragons. This bounty alone would set Lyd and I up in a new home. But where would we go? Certainly not Riften even though Laila attempted to persuade us to stay and be a member of her court. A thane of Riften, how ironic. No, it would only be a matter of time before I ran into that nasty little skeever Mercer and slit his throat for what he tried to do to me. I still wake up in a sweat dreaming about it. He was so close… I truly thought I was going to lose my maidenhood to that drunken slob. But all men have the same weakness, a kick to the groin, giving me enough time to flee. I have never told anyone what happened. I don’t even know why I’m reliving it. It’s all in the past. Riften is in the past. 

I don’t know what we’ll do next. I’m sure Bolgruuf has some bounties he’s waiting for us to collect. Each time we return to Whiterun I half expect it to be engulfed in the flames of war. But somehow Bolgruuf has managed to remain impartial. A fool. But I suppose that makes me a fool too. I don’t know if I can stomach wearing that blue armor again. Not with all the memories attached to it. 

I can hear Lydia snoring. Perhaps I should take a page out of her book. Maybe I’ll try and wake up early tomorrow, go to the market and buy something nice for her. She’s more than deserved it. Especially after this most recent beast, nearly burning me to a crisp if Lydia hadn’t shoved her sword through the beast’s mouth. Oh what would I ever do without my devoted housecarl? Probably wind up on another chopping block.

Theodora chuckled at her previous entry, it felt like months since she was sitting in her room in Whiterun, scribbling these words under a dim candle, listening to Lydia toss and turn in the next room while rain pummeled the thin walls of their home. She sighed and turned to a fresh page.

Things are much different now. Lydia and I have come to Windhelm. Despite my last entry, it was easier putting on the blue cuirass once again. Painful, to relive all the memories associated with it, but necessary. I have avoided this war long enough. The GreyBeards wouldn’t be proud, but I cannot sit on that mountain top doing nothing but studying my words and pacing the windy courtyard until I am too old and gray. Nor can I continue to ignore who I am. I am the dragonborn. It’s silly to say it, but it is true. I was given this special gift for a reason. Well, that reason was most likely to defeat Alduin. But now that I have done that I feel… empty. Hollow. Rather useless. Lydia and I have collected numerous bounties, enough to set us up for life in a nice home. But it would only be a matter of time before we are captured by the damn elves, tortured and killed. I can’t spend every second of my life in fear that when I lose Lydia even for a second out of my line of sight, I think she is dead at the sword of a Thalmor agent. I can’t continue putting her in danger just for being my housecarl. Which I realize, is quite ironic. I have now enlisted her in a war. But she ultimately made me realize, this is where we should be. And she seems to be flourishing. 

I, however, still need to find my place. I don’t wish to be a captain or a general just because I am the dragonborn. I don’t want the other generals despising me, plotting my demise, claiming I have no right here. I wish to be respected, and not seen merely as a weapon of mass destruction. 

I must admit, it is strange being in this palace. Being in the presence of… the great bear himself. The jarl of Windhelm. The man next to me on that cart, the day everything started over a year ago. Much to my… surprise he did not recognize me. I had to break it to him that I was indeed that pathetic girl with the busted nose and bound hands on the cart next to him, about to have my head chopped off by the imperials. 

I have just gotten back from having dinner with the jarl. As everyone had warned me, he is indeed charming and very persuasive. And frankly I can see now why all the nord ladies across the land refer to him as ‘the most handsome man in all of Skyrim’. Perhaps that is why he is so persuasive. But there is a strange sense of trustworthiness about him, and I hope I will not come to regret putting my faith in this man. This great bear. And I sincerely hope I don’t put my foot in my mouth and make him regret trusting me. 

I still find myself searching for that familiar face. Even after all this time. All of this silence. I still look for his face in the sea of blue Stormcloaks. But he is not here. If he’s even still alive, he’s most likely at one of the camps far away, waiting to take Solitude. I just hope he’s okay. And unfortunately, I hope he still thinks of me. Maybe one day we will meet again, even if it is in Sovngarde. 

I must sleep. I’ve had too much of the jarl’s fine wine. I’m a soldier now, I have… missions. Such a strange thing. No more bounties, no more freedom. My life is now this war. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to let it drag out much longer. Talos, don’t fail me now.

Chapter 18

Notes:

Ulfric POV

Ulfric poured himself another glass of wine and sat down at the now empty dinner table. He stared at the vacant chair across from him where the dragonborn had been; her plate entirely clean, not to his surprise, she was a traveler, she ate when she could and meals were few and far between. Though she did not have the bare hollow figure of a peasant. She had the body of a warrior. A female warrior at that. He was still a man after all he couldn’t help but admire her figure each time she looked away. He was rather pleased with his choice of robes to slip into her room. Her fair cream skin only looked more enticing against the soft silk robes. 

He groaned and tipped back the rest of his wine, he couldn’t be distracted by the basic instincts he felt tugging at him any time he looked at a woman. He needed to focus on Whiterun. Perhaps the dragonborn was right, perhaps Bolgruuf was too stubborn. Hmph, the dragonborn. She was the freshest recruit and was already swaying his mind. But she was no normal recruit. She was… fascinating. Ulfric hadn’t been fascinated like this before. 

Fascinated, attracted, both were one in the same when it came to this… dragonborn. He wanted to be offended by her constant candor, her loose tongue, but it only fascinated him more. How fresh it was to be around someone who wasn’t utterly terrified to speak in front of him. Though he couldn’t say he didn’t enjoy the fear in people around him. But Theodora wasn’t afraid of him, no, not like others were. Sure she was a bundle of nerves around him. Oh but that was even more exciting. How intriguing it was that he made the dragonborn , the defeater of Alduin himself, weak with nerves when he spoke to her. 

He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep as he peeled off his heavy armor and set it on the chair beside his bed. His lonely, grand bed. It had been… too long since a woman laid in his sheets. And it had been even longer since it was a woman he didn’t pay at the end of the night. He had no trouble enticing the women of Windhelm, but whores were paid to keep their mouths shut, any other woman would boast up and down Tamriel that they bed the future high king. Or worse, he’d accidentally put his child in one of these common women.

He slipped under his covers and rested his arm behind his head as he stared up through the skylight at the night sky. The teal streaks of light brighter than normal. As a soldier he used to spend all night staring at the night sky, and though he was jarl and leader of an entire army, he still could not fall asleep without counting the stars above him. Something needed to distract him or his mind would never turn off. 

The war was making great strides towards his victory, his stomach unknotted a little more each day compared to when he first came back to Windhelm after Helgen. Ah, Helgen. He was pissed for making a fool of himself. How could he have forgotten the dragonborn? The beautiful, cunning, smart mouthed, spitfire, fascinating dragonborn. He tried to not think of Helgen too often, it was rather embarrassing. He had let Tullius outsmart him. But the bastard was too concerned about saving his own arse when that dragon swooped down; he had let Ulfric slip through his grasp. He had let both of them slip through his grasp. Pathetic milk-drinker . 

Ulfric felt his excitement growing as he replayed the night over again, recounting each word uttered by the dragonborn. He couldn’t help but be utterly smug with the fact that old Tullius had attempted to recruit her, and she had turned him down. Oh how pissed the bastard will be when he learns the dragonborn is bending her knee to Ulfric. 

He sighed at the poor choice of thought. Dragonborn bending her knee to him. Swearing her allegiance to him. He could imagine it “ I will do anything for you Jarl Ulfric. I swear by Talos, I am yours completely .” She was young, certainly younger than him. But she had enough experience to make her a war veteran. She was cunning, she had her wits about her, and she had the heart of a true nord warrior. And she certainly was a thing of beauty. He hadn’t seen such a beautiful woman in years. Not one that… utterly fascinated him the way she did. 

He gave into his instincts and began to stroke himself at the thought of the dragonborn. The thought of her in his private quarters, drinking wine, letting herself relax. He wanted to go to her room at that very moment, tear off that silky blue dress and have his way with her. He imagined how soft her skin felt. Just the touch of her hand against his arm was enough to drive him to insanity. And he had let his instincts get the better of him as he embraced her hand in his, feeling the softness of her skin, the warmth of her radiating onto him. He wanted to feel every inch of her body against his, to taste the sweetness of her delicate lips. He could only imagine the way she sounded writhing in pleasure. Oh what an amusing thought to make the dragonborn weak under his touch, begging for him. Oh Ulfric please make me cum, please I need you .

He gripped himself in his hand as he released his seed onto his stomach, exhaling with a groan of pleasure as he wished he was releasing inside of the dragonborn, marking her with his seed. He exhaled deeply and realized it was a dangerous feeling taking over him, but it was one he did not want to avoid. He had secured the dragonborn in his army, but he realized that was not good enough. He needed to secure the dragonborn as his, and his alone. 

Hmph, an amusing thought. Tullius may not care that the dragonborn is in his arsenal, but old Tullius sure would tremble in his boots at the thought of the dragonborn swearing her life and devotion to Ulfric. After all, there truly was no greater bond than husband and wife. 

And with that thought, Ulfric had no trouble falling deep into a peaceful, and satisfied sleep.

Chapter 19

The following days were strangely relaxing to Theodora. Every morning she would awake early, usually to Lydia greeting her, they would join the rest of the soldiers for a grand breakfast, chatter amongst themselves, get to know each man and woman in blue, then they would spend the day in the back courtyard training. Both Theodora and Lydia had proven themselves more than competent, so most of their time was spent training the soldiers, rather than training themselves. But when she could, Theodora spent her time training her marksmanship, trying to sharpen her aim with the archery target. She certainly was no Lydia when it came to shooting an arrow into the pupil of her enemy’s eye. 

    The jarl had not spoken to the dragonborn since their private dinner. Theodora had barely seen him at all. But from time to time she would hear the booming sound of his dark voice traveling out of his war room and into the grand hall, each time sending shivers across her spine. She always found herself searching for his massive figure, hoping to meet his icey blue gaze. She wasn’t quite sure why she was so drawn to him, but she figured it was because she knew the next time he spoke to her, it would be her first official mission as a Stormcloak. 

    Theodora had taken it upon herself to train the youngest of the soldiers, the ones who had been largely ignored by the generals. She couldn’t help but feel sour the jarl was recruiting at such a young age, and she knew these young brutes wouldn’t last a day in battle if she didn’t sharpen them up a little. And she had to admit, the younger ones were much better company than the old pervy men who spent all their time staring at Theodora’s ass. 

    “You need to breathe when you shoot, if you’re not breathing your body is not relaxed, and if you’re not relaxed your arrow will not go where you want it to go.” Theodora commanded one of the young soldiers, Polk, a little ginger haired boy no older than twelve who could barely land his arrow on the target. He groaned and rolled his eyes, his cheeks matching the color of his hair as he grew more and more frustrated.

    “It doesn’t make any sense , how am I supposed to focus on breathing and shooting?” Polk snapped at her, his voice wavering with a high pitched tone. Each time he grew flustered his voice would squeak, truly reminding Theodora how young he was.

    “You’re not supposed to focus on breathing, you’re a nord, breathing is natural. Just relax Polk. Keep your elbow up.” Theodora groaned back at him. Polk grumbled but drew the bow as far as his small arms would go and after a moment released, but the arrow sunk into the ground just a few feet shy of the target. The other boys, Grayon and Ivan, snickered on the sidelines.

    “I wouldn’t be so smug if I were you. Grayon you can barely hold a sword, and Ivan, well Ivan you’re just slow. An imperial would have a sword in your gullet before you even realized what was happening.” Theodora whipped her attention towards the heckling boys who quickly wiped their smug grins off their young faces. 

    “Why don’t we call it a day huh? Go get some dinner, tomorrow we’ll pick up with blocking.” Theodora sighed at the boys’ sour attitudes and noticed the rest of the soldiers beginning to draw into the grand hall. 

    “Oh oh I want to go first tomorrow! I’m getting really good at bashing.” Grayon boasted as he and Ivan ran past Theodora and fell in with the rest of the young soldiers piling out of the courtyard. Theodora sighed and turned back to Polk who had drawn another arrow and was attempting to relax. 

    “You know, the first time I shot an arrow I nearly took off my thumb. And I missed the target by a mile.” Theodora said.

    “You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.” He said grimly as he released the arrow and it skid across the icy ground. Theodora sighed and walked over to the boy, peeling off her fur bracer and showing the boy her hand where a small scar wrapped around her thumb.

    “You know how I got so good at what I do? Practice . And ignoring being laughed at. And trust me, I was laughed at a lot .” She said, patting the young boy on the shoulder.

    “Who would laugh at the dragonborn?” Polk snickered at her, his mossy eyes lighting up with wonder. 

    “Well this was before I was the dragonborn, but I still make mistakes worth laughing at. Don’t give up Polk, it took me a long time to land an arrow in that bullseye. And I still have my off days. No one in this entire palace is perfect at one skill or another.” She sighed giving a reassuring smile, “Now c’mon, best get in there before Ivan eats all the biscuits huh?”

Polk sighed and nodded, “Were you really that bad when you first started?”

She chuckled and nodded her head, “Birds would flee the town knowing I was practicing shooting. You’ll be a marksman before you know it. Now off with you. We’ve got a busy day of bashing and blocking ahead of us tomorrow.”

She gave Polk a reassuring smile before he hung up the longbow he was using and darted out of the darkened courtyard. Theodora sighed and walked over to pick up the discarded iron arrows Polk had missed the target with. Each failed arrow reminded her of when she and Ralof would practice shooting in the backyard of Gerdur and Hod’s house. 

“ You’re going to shoot your own foot if you keep looking at the ground like that. Haven’t you shot an arrow before?” Ralof boomed with laughter as Theodora released her arrow, sinking it in a nearby bush instead of the target directly in front of her. She groaned and threw her head back in defeat.

“No Ralof I haven’t, you don’t exactly fish with a bow and arrow, now quit mocking me and just show me how to shoot already.” She snapped at him. 

“You need to breathe Theo. You’re all tense. Just relax your body and the arrow will follow through.” Ralof sighed as he walked behind her and corrected her elbow, his rough hands shifting her stance, she could feel his warm breath against her neck.

“Just breathe, and shoot.” He said quietly. She inhaled deeply as she breathed in his sweet musk and relaxed under his touch. She released and watched as the arrow sunk directly in the center.

“Ah ha see! Before you know it you’ll be sniping imperials from a mile away.”

“You know we typically make the new recruits do that.”

A booming voice came from the other side of the courtyard, pulling Theodora bitterly back to reality. She felt the familiar shivers send across her skin, she didn’t need to turn to know who had joined her in the courtyard.

“I am a new recruit.” She pointed out as she scooped up the last of the salvageable arrows and stuffed them in the small leather quiver Polk was using. She hung it up next to the rest of the arrows and brushed her hands against her armor, wiping the dirt off. She heard the crunching of the jarl’s steel boots against the fresh fallen snow as he walked towards her, her heart quickening with each step he took. Even after their time together he still struck nerves in her.

“You are more seasoned than any of these men. That makes you much more than a new recruit.” He said back to her. She turned to face him and felt her cheeks flush with nerves as she met his intense gaze. His eyes were just as blue, but his face seemed softer than when she would glance over at him in the grand hall as he debated with his generals. Then again, she was not peppering him with war questions, it was no surprise he seemed more relaxed. 

“I must admit I have been watching you with my men. You have the heart of a general, and by the looks of it, you’ve already taken it upon yourself to act as such.” The jarl continued after a moment of silence passed between them. He was standing next to her, she tensed as she felt the warmth from his body radiating onto her frozen limbs. She had been outside all day and wasn’t quite sure when she stopped feeling her toes. 

“No one else is helping the kids. They should at least get a fighting chance.” She said defensively as she felt her face redden at the thought of the jarl watching her. She wondered when he was poking into the courtyard, she never seemed to find him when she inevitably glanced around searching for his gaze. 

“I do not say this in a bad way Theodora, I am commending you. Those kids look up to you, they listen to you. Chances are they will live longer because of you.” He spoke softly to her. She sighed and wiped the moisture from her forehead from the falling snow as she hoped she didn’t look too raggedy in front of the jarl.

“Nevertheless, I have come here to invite you to dinner with me.” He cleared his throat and spoke more formally. She glanced at him and tried to assess if this was his way of saying I’m sending you to Whiterun, I expect you to bring me Balgruuf’s head . But he did not have a sternness to his face. She noticed how close she was standing to him though. She could see the finer details to his rather handsome face. Some lines yes from the many years being a soldier and a jarl, but the softness of the snow falling onto his honey hair reminded her of a young man. The light bringing out the brightness of his icy blue eyes.

She cleared her throat and forced herself to step back casually, “Oh uhm, yes I’d like that. I would just need to uhm… change.”

She saw him glance down at her body as she gestured towards her dirty armor and she felt embarrassed as he looked upon her. But he smiled and shook his head.

“The cuirass fits you quite nicely but yes, I will send for you in a bit. Please, take your time.”

Before she could react the jarl cleared his throat and walked away. She couldn’t help but stare as he quickly charged out of the courtyard and back into the palace. The cuirass fits you quite nicely . She felt a foolish grin creep over her frozen face as she shook her head at the interaction. Dinner with the jarl, again . Perhaps he was hoping to get more criminal stories out of her. She just hoped he had more of the fine wine. 

Chapter 20

She relaxed into the bath as she let her frozen muscles unthaw. While she was a nord and naturally the cold didn’t bother her as much as it would others, being outside in the frozen Windhelm air all day still took its toll on her. She swore she grew five shades paler since staying in the palace. But she wasn’t complaining, the break from constant travel was proving quite beneficial to her mind and body. 

    She reluctantly peeled herself out of the relaxing bath and dried off. She went to grab the same robes she wore to dinner the other night but she noticed a fresh pile of clothing on her dresser. She rolled her eyes at the jarl’s insistence she present herself as a lady, and not as a soldier. But at least she didn’t have to force the still-frozen armor back on her clean skin. 

    These robes were a lavender shade, and just as intricately stitched as the last set, and just as well fitting. She slipped the thin shoes on, combed through her knotted hair, and poked at her cold cheeks as she waited for Rose to fetch her. Rose didn’t quite know how to take Theodora, as Theodora always made sure to inquire about the servant’s day, and ask about her family. Rose apparently lived in one of the spare rooms in the basement quarters with her son, who helped in the kitchens. Her husband had died of one of the nasty fevers that plagued Windhelm quite a few years back, and when she lost her house the jarl invited her and her son to live in the palace and work for rent. With a generous monthly stipend of course, the jarl would never force labor without pay Rose made sure to quickly add. 

    After a few moments Theodora decided to pull out her journal from the locked desk drawer and clear her mind before going into the jarl’s private quarters once more. She stared at the blank parchment unsure where to even begin, since she hadn’t really done anything in the last few days since becoming a Stormcloak. Her mind just kept drifting to the jarl, and what he could possibly ask of her at dinner. She flipped through her old entries, scanning the words that felt like a stranger had written them, and not herself.

    I truly never believed I would be writing these words, but Alduin has been defeated. Somehow, I have managed to slay the world eater himself. Sometimes I still feel I am asleep on that cart, about to wake up from this illusive dream and have my head chopped off by the imperials. I thought I would feel better now that Alduin is gone, but I feel… hollow. Traveling to Sovengard took something from me… something I worry I won’t ever get back. And sometimes I wonder if I should have stayed in Sovngarde, if that was my destiny. Still, I feel lost. Lydia tells me I have been gone for weeks, nearly a month. When in Sovngarde not even a day had passed. She was worried I would never return. 

    The dragonborn has fulfilled her prophecy, and now what do I do? Perhaps I have no purpose now. Perhaps I will seek the life of a simple nord, find someone who will tolerate me enough for marriage, have a ceremony with Lydia by my side, move to a bigger house perhaps even outside of Whiterun. Run a farm maybe. Have a few children, pray to the gods they are not cursed with the blood of a dragon. 

    But that seems a tad far-fetched. How can I ever be married, have children, if I am running from the thalmor? Who could ever put themselves at constant danger to marry the dragonborn?

    Perhaps for now, it will be just Lydia and I. Frankly, I hope she doesn’t get sick of me. 

She flipped back farther, practically to the beginning. She looked at the rough charcoal sketches she had inserted of the dragons she and Lydia had battled. Blood dragon. Frost dragon. Ancient dragon. But none were as deadly as the unique reverent dragon. Now that beast truly resembled a lizard with its thick flat head and even larger flat tail resembling a plateau, and it spoke the harshest of thu’ums. Theodora had never gotten so close to death than with that damned beast. Not even with Alduin.

I hope this recording will help keep my sanity. So much has… changed in the past few weeks. I left home. I finally left the miserable existence that was my life. I stole all the coin from my father’s drunken pocket, grabbed the old rusty dagger he kept in his nightstand, and took off in the middle of the night letting the moon guide my way. I was finally free. And what do I get for it? Those damn soldiers find me. I thought for sure they were going to defile me. But the only pain I felt was being smashed in the face with the end of one of their warhammers after refusing to admit I was a courier for the rebels. Talos played a sick joke on me that day. My father always condemned the rebel cause, saying Ulfric is a selfish bastard only out for the throne. How pleased he would be to know his daughter was on the cart next to him sentenced to death. 

I’d rather live Helgen over a thousand times than ever go back to Riften. To be at the mercy of Mercer Frey. My father may have tried to sell me like a pig to slaughter, but I’ll be damned if I ever let that nasty thieve’s guild skeever get his grubby hands on me. 

I know Ralof will be leaving soon, and I cannot bear to think of it. I’d be dead in the dungeons of Helgen if it weren’t for him. And I wouldn’t know how to defend myself if he hadn’t taken all his time to help me train. I wish dearly he would stay. We could work at the mill, save up coin, perhaps even get a house of our own… Truly, I will never find a man like Ralof again. But I fear he has no feelings for me. I see the way he looks at the other women in town. I fear I am simply not desirable enough. Perhaps my mother was right all along, I’ll never marry for love as no one would be foolish enough to love me.

I fear perhaps I will have to marry someone like Mercer, just to make it through this damn war without ending up on the wrong side of the chopping block. Then again… I suppose I’d rather just take the chopping block. I am not ending up like my mother. 

She slammed her journal shut and tucked it in the drawer as she heard footsteps approaching her door. Her face had grown tense as she read through her old entries. How stupid she had been for thinking she and Ralof could be together and live in Riverwood. That was of course before she knew she was the dragonborn. He would probably be horrified when he saw her again. Fresh scars across her body, hollowness to her eyes, muscles on her bones from the constant fighting. She certainly was no lady. Not anymore. 

She jumped out of her chair at the sound of knocking and shook off the dour thoughts clogging her mind. She hated how often she let the yearning for Ralof cloud her conscience. She was the dragonborn for Talos’s sake, she could at least have a little self respect. Or perhaps she lost it all in Sovngarde. 

She wasn’t sure why she was so surprised to see the jarl, and not Rose, standing before her as she whipped open the door. But his massive stature and intense glare always threw her off guard. 

“Good evening Theodora, you look beautiful tonight. May I escort you?”

She recoiled at the jarl’s compliment, unsure how to process it, but she tried to wipe the utter shock off her face as she smiled politely and nodded. He gestured with his forearm and she politely placed her palm against it, but the jarl paused and moved her arm so it was wrapped under his, their arms tucked together. She felt her face blush intensely as she tried to shake off her nerves.

“So, may I ask, what is the occasion for this dinner?”

They strode through the corridor, the guards on post nodding cordially as the jarl passed, but paying no mind to the guest on his arm. She heard the jarl clear his throat and exhale sharply.

“Does one need an occasion for dinner?” He asked. She glanced up and saw an amused look to his eye. She sighed and shook her head.

“I suppose not.”

He paused as they came to the door to his private quarters, unlatching the door and pushing it open but keeping his arm hooked on hers. She hoped the jarl could not feel the shakiness in her hands as he guided her in the room and closed the door behind them. She felt the warmth of the roaring fireplace and the smell of roasted potatoes in the air. Her stomach rumbled as she hoped she’d be less nervous about eating in front of the jarl. He guided her over to the same wooden chair she sat in a few nights before and finally released her arm from his warm grasp.

She watched as he walked over and sat across from her, she tried to gauge the look in his eye. Was he planning to extract more information out of her?

He already got her to join his cause, she wasn’t sure what ulterior motive he had this time. 

Chapter 21

“So, tell me,” Ulfric cleared his throat as he poured the sweet red wine into her silver goblet, “Are you and your housecarl settling in well?”

“Yes… I believe so. She seems to be fitting in well with the rest of the men.” Theodora chuckled. 

“And you? Are you enjoying time with my men?”

She glanced at him as he had a suspicious tone in his sultry voice. She sipped the wine sheepishly and shook her head.

“I suppose. The real question is, are your men enjoying two outsiders being in their midst?” She shot at him. He gave her a smug smirk and exhaled.

“My generals are quite impressed with the two of you. And I can assure you, you are no outsider.” He chuckled as he leaned forward and pulled the lid off her trey, setting it to the side and doing the same with his. She inhaled the sweet smell of roasted potatoes and baked venison, one of her favorite meals. Anything other than fish head stew. 

“I was not lying earlier, you are very skilled with the younger soldiers. Did you have brothers and sisters growing up?”

She paused mid forkful and clenched, but shook her head, “Er no, my parents were quite disappointed with me they didn’t need to keep going. I had an older brother.”

“Oh now, I cannot believe your parents would be disappointed in you . You say you had a brother?” He continued. She slowly chewed the piece of venison and tried to think of a best response.

“I don’t know. He left home before I did. But we had different ways… I have a feeling he may be… somewhere warmer. Perhaps dressed in red.” She swallowed. He clicked his tongue and nodded in understanding. Theodora thought of her brother once in a while, when she and Lydia would come across an imperial camp on their trails. She always wondered if her brother was out there, perhaps he too was at Helgen and she didn’t even know it. 

“Why did you leave home?”

She sighed and took a swig of her wine, “That's uhm… a long story. And rather uninteresting.” 

“I doubt that.”

She eyed him suspiciously, “You know if there is something you want to know you don’t have to pretend to be interested in my… woes. You can just ask me.”

He furrowed his brow at her like he did not understand and shook his head, his face hardened once more, “I am not trying to extract information out of you Theodora, I simply wish to get to know you.”

“Why?”

“ Why? ” He chuckled and shook his head, “You’re rather stubborn have you ever been told that?”

Her heart sank as she recalled Ralof saying almost those exact words the night they… laid together. The last night she ever saw him.

“Well, I am a nord after all.” She shot back at him, shaking off the dreadful lump in her throat. He flashed a smug grin at her as he sipped his wine and still waited for her response. She sighed and rubbed her brow.

“Think of me not as the jarl, just… a fellow nord you are having conversation with.” He added at her hesitation. 

“Okay, fine . I left home because… well it was time. I was of age…”

“You’re being vague.” He interjected. 

“You know I much more expected you to ask about, I don’t know, Alduin . Not boring stories of my childhood.” She sighed. He chuckled and shook his head.

“I had more than my fair share of Alduin. And nothing about you is boring Theodora. But if you don’t wish to discuss it I will not force you. I may be the jarl but I am still a gentleman.” He responded with a sigh. She felt a small smile creep across her face.

“Yes, you are indeed.” She sipped her wine and shook her head, “I left home… well because my father tried to marry me off.”

“You did not want to get married?” He asked, his brow raising in intrigue. She cleared her throat nervously.

“It was the man, or rather skeever , he was selling me to.” 

He waited for her to continue. She sighed at his stubborn patience with her stubbornness and continued on. Painfully reliving the details that she had only recounted twice before. Once to Lydia. And the other to Ralof. Though she knew she would keep it brief with the jarl, he didn’t need to hear the more… unpleasant details.

“Well uhm. My father liked to indulge himself, and by indulge himself I mean drive my family into poverty, in the black-briar meadery. Maven, who never says no to an investment opportunity, offered to clear his debt if he would sell me off to the head of the thieve’s guild.” She explained carefully, keeping her bitterness and choice of words under control. 

“Mercer.” He finished. She raised her brow and nodded.

“That’s the one.”

The jarl sighed deeply, “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

She chuckled and shook her head, “It is all in the past. At least I hope so, Mercer is a spiteful little rat. And so is Maven. And so are my parents.”

“So after Riften… then that was…”

“Helgen.” She finished. 

“And yet you persevered. That makes you even stronger than I thought.”

“Or foolish.” She interjected, “Facing death in Helgen was not enough, I had to do it again and again.” 

He chuckled at her, she glanced up and met his gaze staring intently at her as a moment of silence passed between them. She felt embarrassed for revealing such a pathetic moment of her life. He looked at her the way Lydia had looked at her when she told her housecarl why she left, the look of pity. He cocked his head like he was confused, his brow furrowing and hardening his face. She chuckled at how young he looked when he was confused. 

“What?” She asked.

“So it was not marriage, but who you would be marrying, that you did not want?” He asked. She exhaled deeply and took a reassuring sip of wine. 

“Back then? I probably would have married. Now? I don’t imagine anyone would want to marry the dragonborn . Too risky I would blow their head off in an argument.” She answered. The jarl chuckled earnestly at her, a plight he understood, she imagined.

“So you have no suitors in your midst?”

She paused and furrowed her brow, “ No . Why?”

He shrugged and chewed a piece of potato, glancing away, “I am merely curious.”

“Well, what about you ?”

His eyes widened in surprise at her braveness, but she did not waver. It was satisfying to put him on the spot after he interrogated her. 

“You are the jarl, the future high king after all. You must have suitors lining all the way to Markarth.” She continued with a smug grin as he shifted awkwardly in his seat. 

“Ah, I have poked a nerve. Interesting…” She sipped her wine and watched the powerful man before her squirm with discomfort at her questioning of his love life. Though the pit in her stomach made her unsure if she wanted to know the answer. She couldn’t help but be rather sour when others were magically in love and she was still alone. Though the jarl most likely had someone waiting for the perfect political moment to announce their betrothal.

“I have prospects, I have offers. But I am focused on the war . Speaking of which…” He cleared his throat and spoke more sternly. Her smug grin disappeared as she realized she may have pushed her limits. The jarl’s face went from softened amusement, to hardened irritation. A scowl forming across his face, his thick tan brow furrowing as his blue eyes narrowed in on her, his thin pale lips turning into a frown, his jaw clenching and accentuating his bone structure. It was if a switch had flipped, or rather, she had flipped the switch with her brazen comments.

“Ah, speaking of which.” She cleared her throat and sat up, resuming her cordial posture. 

“Have you ever heard of the jagged crown?” He asked. She ran through her mind, but shook her head.

“Heard of it, but only in… elaborate stories. Legends. Why?” She asked as she poked at her venison. 

“Galmar has insisted he has found the location of the jagged crown. He is leaving in the morning for Korvanjund. He has specifically requested you join him and his men.” The jarl continued. She nodded and set her fork down.

“Fine. But can I ask why ?”

“Why has he requested you or why is he retrieving this… thing of legend?” He asked as he stroked his honey colored beard and looked at her with amusement instead of irritation once more. The switch had been flipped once more as his face softened and his sullen frown turned into a teasing smirk.

“Why is your best general going to retrieve this thing of legend?” She sighed at him. She swore he almost rolled his eyes, clearly he did not approve of this mission.

“He believes this will solidify my place as high king. Some of the jarls are… hesitant to support me. This ancient relic symbolizes being the true king.” He explained slowly, keeping his eyes on hers. 

“Alright. Korvanjund. Sounds like a ruin. Should be full of draugr. I must say that’s preferable to the living…” She responded plainly. A silence filled the air between them as she kept her eyes on her food, but could feel his gaze upon her. 

“What?” She asked after a few moments of feeling his eyes burning into her. He smiled softly at her, his fingers stroking his beard as he stared intently at her. 

“I just have a hard time believing you don’t have any suitors.” He smirked at her, the corners of his eyes creasing as he gazed upon her in amusement. She felt her cheeks flush as she nervously sipped her wine.

“I thought we weren’t discussing that anymore.”

“What about your housecarl, you two are awfully close.” He continued on ignoring her comment. She couldn’t help but chuckle at the insinuation. An amused snort erupting from her in surprise. Many assumed she and Lydia were lovers, and not just travel companions, and frankly Theodora didn’t put the effort into disputing the rumors if it meant men would leave her alone. But she quickly shook her head at the jarl as he awaited her response.

“I can assure you even more Lydia and I are thane and housecarl, companions, but not those kind of companions.” She sighed at the inquisitive jarl. 

“No one you’re interested in?”

Her heart sank as she slowly shook her head, “No. I am focused on the war .”

He smiled softly at her and nodded after a tense silence passed between them, “And after the war? What will you do?” 

She chewed the inside of her cheek nervously, “Well, I have to survive the war first.” 

“If old Alduin himself could not strike you down I doubt that milk drinker Tullius could.” The Jarl said quickly. 

“No. Maybe not. But the thalmor certainly have come close. I don’t imagine they will be too keen upon learning that the Dragonborn, their highest bounty, will be aiding the side against the empire.” She pointed out bitterly. He furrowed his brow at the mention of the thalmor, his body clearly tensing.

“I can assure you, Theodora. The thalmor will never lay their hands on you as long as you are in my arsenal.” The Jarl spoke softly but sternly. His voice rich with intensity sending chills across her skin. She relaxed slightly, feeling as if though the Jarl was telling the truth, even though she and the Jarl both knew the thalmor did what they pleased. Kidnapped who they pleased. Tortured who they pleased. And slaughtered who they pleased, whenever they pleased.

“Well. I don’t know what I will do after the war. I thought about buying more land. Maybe tending a farm. I can only survive on collecting bounties for so long, one of these days I won’t be so fortunate.” She responded with a shrug, “but I do not know what life will bring me. I certainly thought my life was over in Helgen, and when I survived that I certainly thought it would be over when Balgruuf asked me to hunt down a dragon nearby. And then I accepted my death with Alduin. At this point I think Talos is keeping me alive out of amusement.” 

“Well what did you want to do when you were a child?” The Jarl asked. She chuckled and shrugged again. 

“I wanted to get out of Riften. And look where that got me.” 

He cocked his head at her and smiled softly, “I’d say you’re fairing pretty well for yourself. And I think Talos is keeping you alive because the world needs you in it. You are much more than your gift Theodora.” 

She frowned and shook her head, “Perhaps. But for the time being, I will continue being the Dragonborn. Maybe make a few imperials soil themselves from fright at my thu'um.” 

The Jarl chuckled an earnest laugh at her and sighed, “You truly fascinate me Theodora.”

A moment passed between them as she considered his statement that she was much more than her gift . She had a hard time believing that, as her gift was the only thing keeping her alive, and frankly her gift was the only reason she was sitting before this jarl. 

“Am I allowed to ask you questions or is this merely a one way road?” She asked as he poured her more wine. He raised his brow at her hesitantly but nodded.

“Why’d you go to the Greybeards?” She asked. He chuckled as if shocked she did not ask why did you kill the late high king? But she already knew the answer to that. It was all the people of Skyrim could talk about. Ulfric needed a ‘symbol’, and Torygg refused to drive the thalmor out of Skyrim. 

“My father sent me, my grandfather had trained with the Greybeards as well, he wanted me to be… a force.” He responded.

“How long were you there?” She asked.

“Ten years. I would have been there longer but, as I’m sure you know, the Greybeards and I have very different thoughts on the voice . And what it should be used for.” He answered as he sat back in his seat, his hands clasped in his lap as he articulated his responses. 

“Mm, yes. They are a stubborn lot. I had to force them to help me with Alduin.” She added rolling her eyes at the old Greybeards, specifically Arengir, who wouldn’t aid her cause when he learned she was working with the Blades. 

“But at least you succeeded, I had no such luck convincing them to aid in the war.” He added. 

“Which one?” She quipped. The jarl chuckled and nodded.

“You know your history. I’m afraid that dates me a little.” He smirked at her. She felt her face flush at his sultry tone.

“Is that why you left High Hrothgar?” She asked, “Because of the great war?”

He exhaled and nodded, “The Greybeards refused to help, I could not hide upon High Hrothgar when I could be fighting amongst my brothers and sisters. Something you are familiar with, I assume Arengir attempted to persuade you to stay.”

“More or less, they were rather peeved with the fact that I was using my voice rather than just studying it.” 

He chuckled and nodded as he understood that all too well, “Yes I received a rather… sour letter from the old men after the Markarth incident. And again after Solitude.” 

“ Really Arengir being sour? I cannot perceive it.” She snickered sarcastically. A moment passed as the jarl stared intently at her, and she felt herself unable to look away from his icy eyes, something was lingering in his gaze as if he had more to ask her but was too hesitant to do so. As if he had to play the political game further. 

“Well, I am afraid I have kept you late once more. Galmar will be eager to leave early.” The jarl spoke abruptly, pushing himself up from his seat, “I hope you will  not run into any trouble.”

She pushed herself out of her chair and felt the wine flowing through her once more as the jarl strode to her side and extended his arm once more. She steadied herself before pressing her palm against his forearm. It could have been the wine, but she felt more comfortable letting him guide her, relaxing her arm against his. She felt her body flush as breathed in the jarl’s sweet smell. It felt more intoxicating than the goblets of wine. He wrapped her arm around the nook of his elbow once more and guided her slowly towards the door, his body felt tense against hers.

“I must admit I am rather pleased, extremely grateful might I add, that you have chosen to be by my side during all of this. I do not want you to feel as if you are merely a weapon in my war, Theodora. You are much more than that.” He spoke softly to her as they reached the door. She furrowed her brow at him and cocked her head, wondering what he meant by that. But before she could ask he opened the door and pulled his arm away.

“Goodnight. Best of luck tomorrow, try to keep Galmar in one piece.”

“Goodnight… Ulfric.” She sighed and nodded politely, feeling a small twinge of disappointment as her arm was released from his warmth. She didn’t quite process the fact she was going on her first official mission as a Stormcloak until the jarl closed the door behind her. 

Chapter 22

Notes:

Ulfric POV

Ulfric awoke early the next morning to go over the plans with Galmar, who was less grumpy than normal seeing as he got his way and was off to retrieve the Jagged Crown. Ulfric still wasn’t convinced it was there, but he knew Galmar wouldn’t stop pestering him until he permitted a small troop to go investigate. He had to admit he was rather hesitant to allow Galmar to take Theodora. If anything were to happen he would lose his best general, and the dragonborn all in one day. 

“This will truly test her abilities, Ulfric. Not to mention, it will solidify her standing as a true Stormcloak.” Galmar grumbled, “No imperial spy would agree to dig through ancient ruins to aid a cause that wasn’t theirs.” 

“Theodora certainly is no imperial, Galmar.” The jarl grumbled as he relaxed in his study chair, dozens of scrolls awaiting his response, but none of them from Balgruuf. Stubborn brute, perhaps Theodora was right after all. Another victory for Galmar, who had been pressuring Ulfric to take Whiterun for months. 

Ulfric glanced up and noticed Galmar had a smug expression on his face.

“I am no mind reader Galmar what is it?” Ulfric grumbled with a sigh at his oldest comrade, who had been by Ulfric’s side for nearly two decades. 

“You like this one.” Galmar said. Ulfric furrowed his brow and shook his head.

“Who?”

“ Theodora . The dragonborn.” Galmar chuckled hoarsely. Ulfric sighed and narrowed his eyes at his general.

“I thought you were heading out on a mission, not interrogating your jarl on his personal life.” Ulfric grumbled.

“So you admit she is a part of your personal life.”

“Galmar.” Ulfric sighed in exhaustion. “I-”

Suddenly there was a knock at the door and both general and jarl whipped their attention around.

“What is it?” Ulfric bellowed. A guard opened the door and stood firmly in the doorway.

“Apologies, my jarl. General Galmar, the horses are saddled and the troops are ready.” The guard said before nodding and leaving the study once more. Galmar grumbled something under his breath and pushed himself from his chair with an exhausted grunt. 

“Careful, you’re starting to sound like an old man.” Ulfric added as he unraveled the first scroll and flattened it on his desk. Galmar chuckled a hoarse laugh and pulled his bracers out of his pocket and slipped his hands into them, tightening the straps and pulling his general’s cap over his balding head. 

“Don’t worry Ulfric. I’ll keep an eye on her.” Galmar chuckled before departing from the study. Ulfric sighed and stared at the doorway long after the door closed behind his general. His mind trying to figure out what exactly he would have said to Galmar if they had not been interrupted. He had to admit he had no true reason to invite Theodora to dinner the night before, other than he had spent the better part of the day watching her train in the courtyard, and he desperately wanted to know more about what she had been doing before she came to Windhelm. Everything she said seemed to linger on his mind, playing over and over while he pictured her nervous smile. 

He’d be a fool to deny he had intimate feelings for the dragonborn. How could he not? She was by far the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. And she was truly remarkable. He saw the way she guided those young soldiers along, she did not bully them, she did not spend the entire day boasting of her own skills without actually teaching, she seemingly cared for these young nords without knowing anything about them. 

And she had a fire to her. She was not careless with her words, but she was honest. She was a spitfire. He was still rather amused with the fact that she had been brazen enough to ask about his suitors. Though he was a fool for pressing her so hard about if she had someone waiting for her. But his intense curiosity got the best of him. The thought of her belonging to another man drove him to absurd insanity. 

It had started as mere curiosity to him, but he could no longer deny his feelings for the dragonborn. Was it preposterous? She was one of his soldiers after all, he could not have feelings for a woman that could die fighting his cause. But he could not simply ignore it. If he did not pursue her it would only be a matter of time before one of his men did. And she deserved much better than an average soldier. She could be his queen. 

He chuckled at that thought, the dragonborn, the queen, his queen. He had circled this thought around in his mind for days, and after having dinner with the dragonborn, he had a feeling his thoughts were all going to conclude the same way. He needed to make the dragonborn his wife. But he could practically hear the protests from his generals. But my jarl, we need the dragonborn for battle! He certainly could not send his wife out to battle once they were married. The second it was announced to the country that he had chosen his wife, and his wife was the dragonborn, no doubt Tullius would secure a plan to capture her, use her as a bargaining tool. And Ulfric wasn’t confident in himself to be able to deny anything in trade for her safety. 

Perhaps he should wait. But then he would risk losing her, or worse, another man would win her as his own. No, he couldn’t have that. 

He tossed the old scrolls in the fireplace and read over the new ones. Reports were that the imperials were dwindling around Falkreath, that was good, but their numbers were strong surrounding Haafinger. Tullius must be pulling the troops closer to Solitude, hoping to keep a strong barrier. Though he took every word he received by courier with a grain of salt, he knew the imperials were not above stealing and forging intel. He had ordered plenty of that himself. 

He spent the day locked in his study, trying to focus on articulating his responses to each scroll; noting where to instruct Jorleif to send reinforcements, where to send his returning generals for backup, and where to order attacks as need be. The war was quiet at the moment, but he knew it was the calm before the storm. He hoped Tullius was not preemptively sending troops to Whiterun, but his men were ready. He knew Whiterun would be theirs; he just had to give the order. 

But first, he had to receive word that this silly jagged crown was his. All he could do was wait. The mindless, numbing waiting. 

By nightfall he was growing restless, and frankly completely impatient. He sat in his study sipping his wine grumbling to himself like a truly mad man as he waited for the knock on his door to alert him the troops were back. Had they run into trouble? Were they in need of reinforcements? If he had not heard from anyone by the morning he had half a mind to go hunt down his best general himself. 

“We haven’t received any word on their whereabouts? Nothing from the guards on the walls?” Ulfric grumbled at his steward after dinner was well over with and his generals had drunk themselves past interrogating him on war strategies any further. 

“I will go ask again, my jarl.” Jorleif nodded cordially before nearly sprinting out of the grand hall. 

“No old skeleton king could strike down mighty Galmar, the oaf is too stubborn to die.” General Falion chortled as he threw back his bottle of mead. Ulfric grimaced at his group of drunken men, but did not berate them. He knew in times of war there was little to do about distractions from the bloodshed, and drinking was the only thing to help one sleep at night. 

“Perhaps, but he has the new recruits with him. They may have gotten in over their heads.” Ulfric responded.

“Pfft, the dragonborn could shout her way to Solitude and hand us Tullius’s head on a silver plate at this very moment. They’re probably celebrating their victory with some aged wine my jarl.” General Vicci added. Ulfric looked to his drunken generals and sighed, these men were responsible with keeping his army well trained and alert, and here they were, drunk as ever.

“Go get some sleep you drunk lot, I can’t have all my good men die from mead poisoning at once.” Ulfric grumbled as he pushed himself up from the end of the grand table and stomped out of the hall. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep, but he was going insane sitting there with his eyes glued on the palace doors. Where in Talos’s name were they? He felt his anger brewing inside of him at the thought of them all having mead and wine parading around the ruin without sending word back that they had been successful. 

As he trudged through the corridor he rounded the corner as he wiped his tired eyes in frustration and felt himself knock into one of his soldiers.  

“Apologies my jarl I did not see you there.” 

Ulfric paused as he realized who he had nearly knocked over, “Thorald, when did you return from Markarth?”

Ulfric recognized the young boy, well he wasn’t so young anymore, as the son of an old friend Eorlund Gray-Mane; The finest blacksmith in all of Skyrim. Ulfric had attempted to sway the Gray-Mane family to move to Windhelm numerous times, but he knew Eorlund would never abandon the Companions. Ulfric had to swallow his bitterness regarding the Companions refusal to aid the war, but he was quite grateful Eorlund’s eldest son had enlisted with no hesitation. The boy before him, however, had been through something Ulfric knew all too well: Thalmor imprisonment. 

“Just now, my jarl. I was looking for you to give my reports.” Thorald said as he held out a scroll which Ulfric took quickly. 

“Very good, thank you.” Ulfric nodded and turned to walk away but he heard Thorald clear his throat. Ulfric sighed and turned back to his soldier.

“Is there more?” Ulfric asked as he looked upon one of his best soldiers, who soon would become general no doubt. He was already in line to become general but he spent a little time in one of the thalmor’s prisons. A topic Ulfric knew all too well, and knew better than to ask the boy if he was ready to become general. He needed time to get his head straight.

“Apologies my jarl but, did I hear correctly the dragonborn has joined our fight?” Thorald asked in a hushed tone. Ulfric’s attention piqued as he tensed his body.

“Yes, why?” Ulfric asked. He waited for the worst, for Thorald to report she was an imperial spy or worse, working with the thalmor. But the boy seemed rather delighted.

“She’s a wonderful person, my jarl. She was the one… who rescued me from that prison. Her and that housecarl of hers.” Thorald explained with a grin across his boyish face. Ulfric furrowed his brow in shock at the soldier.

“The dragonborn, why?” Ulfric asked. Thorald shrugged.

“She said my mother asked her to do it. Wouldn’t even let my parents pay her for it. Anyway, I just thought you should know. She’s a true nord through and through. Both her and Lydia. I suppose I should have let her escort me to Windhelm like she offered, but I was too stubborn at the time.” Thorald responded with a raspy chuckle, “Then we would have had her even sooner.”

Ulfric listened to the words of his soldier and felt a strange feeling overwhelm him, he was unsure if he felt pride, or just fear and worry he would never see the dragonborn alive again. Or was it a bitter feeling that this man spoke so fondly of Theodora, a boyish smug grin across his face as he remembered her. This boy after all was a fine, capable warrior. And he came from an esteemed nord family, who clearly Theodora had grown close to during her time in Whiterun. Had she rescued him and fallen in love with the boy? No, that is a foolish thought. She would’ve come to Windhelm long ago if that were the case. 

“Very good. Thank you Thorald.” 

“Thank you sir.” Thorald nodded politely and disappeared down the corridor as Ulfric continued to stand frozen in shock. What else was the dragonborn hiding from him? What else had she done that she felt compelled to keep to herself? 

He trudged to his private quarters and slammed the door shut, walking over to his desk and pouring himself a glass of wine, hoping it would help him relax. Or at least get his mind straight. He had forgotten for a moment Thorald handed him a scroll amidst all the dragonborn talk. He unraveled the thin twine around the parchment and scanned the contents. General Skjald had heard rumors that Jarl Igmund’s Uncle (and Steward) was secretly worshiping Talos, and she wanted the go ahead to confront him about it. Ulfric pondered this. Old Igmund was a bastard, he would chop Ulfric’s head off without hesitation if he got the chance. After all Igmund’s father was the one that helped capture Ulfric many years ago. Markarth was filled with nothing but bitter memories and the damn forsworn hidden outside the walls, plotting their attacks. He paused as he read the rest of the general’s words. The thalmor have been reported in large numbers patrolling the city, none have strayed outside the keep, but I have a feeling they are prepared for an attack. Ulfric crumpled the scroll in anger and tossed it in the fire. The damn thalmor were everywhere, and leave it to that spineless Igmund to allow them to overtake Markarth. As if Ulfric would be foolish enough to start with an attack on Markarth, after all its history. 

He tipped back his wine and wet his quill, starting a note back to Skjald. Do not engage nor attack the thalmor unless provoked. Ensure your men keep their wits about them. Those damn elves would do anything to capture and kill as many nords as possible to weaken our cause. As for the talos worshiper. By all means. Pursue. But be discreet. 

Suddenly he felt panic wash over him. The thalmor, more and more were smuggling themselves into the country as the war progressed. They could be anywhere. They could be near Whiterun, in Korvanjund. If they received word his men were planning a siege on the Jagged Crown… if they received word the dragonborn had joined the Stormcloaks… they would do anything in their evil, malicious power to stop her. 

Had he already broken his promise to her? He had ensured her she would be safe against the thalmor while under his command. Had the thalmor found her, did they already have her locked away in some keep never to be found? He clenched his fists as his mind flashed to the memories of being held by the thalmor himself. Those damn elves felt nothing. No remorse, no morals, all they felt was pleasure derived from torturing the life out of their prisoners. Ulfric would never forget the sounds of his brothers and sisters falling before him, succumbing to the pain of having their flesh burned or chopped off their own limbs. Ulfric was still ashamed of himself for letting himself break, but he couldn’t take the pain of broken limbs being healed with their horrible magic, only to be snapped like a twig again…. And to think Theodora could be experiencing that as he sat there, useless. 

He pushed himself up from his desk, nearly flinging his chair back onto the ground and spilling his wine in the process. He needed to go out and find her. He certainly could not sit around while the dragonborn was held prisoner and tortured for information on his cause. No, he couldn’t just do nothing. 

He stomped over and flung open the door.

“Oh by the god’s you scared me. And that’s saying something. I just ran back in the pitch black after fighting a bunch of skeletons.”

Ulfric exhaled deeply and felt a strange wave of relief flow through him as he realized the dragonborn was standing before him, her arm reaching up about to knock on his door. He glanced down at her, her rosy cheeks red from the cold blistering winds. Her beautiful ebony hair tied back, barely long enough to be held by a thin band, accentuating the rosiness of her face; the beauty of her youth. Her cuirass was covered in dust and soot, no doubt she had just been crawling through a ruin. And she had… blood. Blood on her forehead.

“What took you so long? And what happened to you, are you hurt?” He bellowed at her as he pressed his hand to her forehead, feeling the gash on her head as she winced.

“I- I’m fine. And what took me so long? I came here as fast as I could. The ruins weren’t exactly a stroll through the cloud district.” She bellowed back at him, a wild look in her auburn eyes. 

“Get in here.” He grumbled as he pulled her into his private quarters and quickly closed the door, “Sit down you’re bleeding.”

“I am a soldier, might I remind you, I’m quite used to it.” She grumbled back at him as she stood firm and ignored his command. He stomped to his dresser and whipped it open, rifling through and grabbing a small healing potion and a linen. He dabbed the linen in the water bowl on his dresser and hurried back over to the still frozen Theodora. 

“Why are you still standing? Sit. Now.” He commanded and pointed to the chair next to the dresser. She grumbled and gawked at him but reluctantly pushed past him and sat down. He pulled a spare chair over next to her and leaned in, holding her chin in his hand as he examined her gash in the candlelight. Her face was cold in his hand, but he couldn’t resist keeping her in his grasp. He couldn’t help but admire her beauty, even in her sheer state of exhaustion after battle. Her young vibrant eyes meeting his, her round cheeks reddening as she looked away in embarrassment. 

“I am fine .” She winced as he pressed the wet linen to her forehead.

“What happened? Did you run into trouble?” He ignored her as he gently wiped the frozen blood from her face.

“Well, there were… a few imperials there ahead of us.” She said quietly, her face scrunched with slight discomfort. He pulled back feeling a wave of anger brewing inside of him.

“What? Imperials? Damn it! How did they know? Imperial spies are everywhere, never forget that.” He bellowed. His worries had been just after all, but he was grateful it wasn’t the thalmor.

“Yes yes I know. Don’t worry, we took care of them. And since you didn’t ask, yes we were successful.” She reached into her bag strung over her shoulder and pulled something out, struggling with the weight slightly. He craned his neck and realized what she was holding as she held it out to him. 

“Damn it, I owe Galmar a drink.” 

“Mm well he says he owes you a drink so I suppose you’re even.” She chuckled as she handed him the crown. He took it and felt the heavy stone crown in his hand, long sharp bone like tusks sticking out the top. He furrowed his brow as he realized what Galmar may have meant by owing him a drink. If the dragonborn disappoints you, Talos strike me down and I’ll owe you a drink Ulfric had boasted after the first training session as he watched Theodora knock every soldier on their ass. 

“Where are the rest of the troops? And your housecarl?” He cleared his throat and moved on.

“We lost a couple men, but Lydia is fine. Galmar is fine. He wanted everyone to stay behind and snoop around. But he told me to take this back to you.” She answered, gesturing towards the crown. He sighed and felt the crown in his hands, chuckling at its existence. He couldn’t believe Galmar was right. And even more, he couldn’t believe as he looked upon this ancient relic, that he was more relieved to have the dragonborn back in his presence. 

“Well, I must thank you for bringing me this. I can imagine it would have been much more… dour if you had not been there.” He sighed as he set the crown gently down on his dresser and picked up the linen once more, he moved to press it to her forehead but she moved her head away.

“I am fine -”

“You have blood on you, you're not fine .” He interrupted her as he wiped the rest of the blood away. He mostly just liked to press his hand against her cheek, feeling the warmth of her unthawing face against his hand. 

“I have endured much much worse than a slight gash on my head. And might I say I got this from Galmar getting a little too excited with his war hammer. Nearly reenacted my imperial capture.” She chuckled as she touched her gash gently with her hand, nearly brushing his hand with hers. He sighed in discontent at her quip, thinking of her knocked out with a war hammer and captured by the imperials only made him curse the Empire more. 

“Oh come on, I only tease. It’s the best way to deal with it.” She added after noticing his sullen expression. He held her face in his hand, unable to pull away even though the blood had been completely wiped away. He looked at her and felt all the stresses of the war, the worries of the Empire, the nightmares of the thalmor, they all disappeared. It was as if the dragonborn had an aura to her, just being in her presence put the old jarl at ease. A feeling he had not felt since… well he couldn’t quite remember the last time he was at ease. Ever since the war had begun, he had spent all of his time focusing on how to drive the Empire out of Skyrim, devoting his entire life and being to ridding Skyrim of corruption and greed. It had been the only thing he had thought about. Until of course, the dragonborn managed to clog his thoughts and cloud his focus. She was utterly distracting, but Ulfric wanted the distraction; no, he needed the distraction. But after a moment she noticed he was not wiping away her blood anymore but was merely staring at her beauty and she pulled away.

“Anyway, I’m sorry if I interrupted your night I will uhm, I’ll go to my quarters.” She cleared her throat and stood up abruptly. He realized perhaps he had been staring at her for too long, but he could not break away his gaze. Her auburn eyes trapped him. 

“Wait, Theodora.”

She paused as Ulfric stood up and blocked her from the door. He didn’t know how to get her to stay, but he knew he certainly did not want her to leave after just returning. She waited for him to continue, her face scrunched with confusion.

“I would just like to thank you again, for bringing this to me. I have to admit I was rather… worried.” He sighed as he could not resist staring into her rich brown eyes, admiring the pinkness in her cheeks, the confusion in her stare. He tried to stifle a boyish grin at how beautiful she was even when she was pissed at him. 

“Worried? Over a ruin? Galmar never even broke a sweat.” She chuckled quietly. He clicked his tongue and shook his head as he knew he had to choose his words carefully. But as the dragonborn stood before him, he couldn’t stand the thought of sending her away to give him time to collect his thoughts. He needed her like a drunk needed skooma. 

“I was worried about you.” He admitted. She recoiled slightly, as if he had offended her.

“About me? Well I hope you’re not worried about me now, I’ve brought you back the crown.” She said defensively gesturing towards the heavy crown sitting on his dresser. He sighed at her stubbornness, unwilling to hear what he was saying. 

“I was never worried about your capabilities, Theodora. I was worried about you .” 

“Why?”

“ Why ?” He repeated with a chuckle. This woman is going to be the death of me by Talos . 

“Yes, why were you worried about me?” She pressed, her face scrunching even further in defense. 

“Can I not be worried about one of my soldiers?” He asked. Her face hardened as she stepped back.

“Well, I am fine. I shouldn’t keep you any longer.” She said quietly as she moved to walk by him. He considered his options. He could let her rest, speak with Galmar about the possibility of extending marriage to the dragonborn, assess the potential hindrance or assistance to his cause. Or he could do what he had not done in many years, admit his feelings without first running it through his council. Risk it all. 

“Theodora.” He spoke softly. She paused and sighed in irritation with her jarl, throwing her head back slightly.

“What?” She asked as turned around. He met her gaze as she stared intently into his eyes. He could tell, there was more to her gaze than she was letting on as well. 

“Why didn’t you tell me about Northwatch?”

She sunk back and furrowed her brow at him, until she realized what he was referring to. She shrugged.

“I suppose I could have listed it under the things I’ve done to piss the thalmor off. But wait, how did you find out about it?” She asked in confusion. 

“Thorald told me.”

She seemed surprised by this, “Thorald’s here?”

He felt a strange rage building inside of him, “Yes, he is. Does that intrigue you?”

She shook her head at him and chuckled, “Am I intrigued to know a man I helped escape captivity made it all the way back to Windhelm without being captured once more because he was too stubborn to let me escort him back here alive? Yes I suppose you could say that.”

“So he is nothing more to you then? Why would you risk your life for him?”

She groaned clearly, growing flustered with him as she wiped her forehead nervously, “Because his mother is a very nice woman, and she asked me to. The Gray-Manes, as you know, are a very honorable and nice family in Whiterun. It was the least I could do.”

“And that’s all, nothing more between you two?” He pressed.

“What does it matter to you my jarl? Besides, the answer is no. I already told you that.” Her voice was growing harsh with irritation. He felt a smug grin creep across his face, a satisfied feeling unknotting his stomach. The desire to pummel one of his best soldiers was fading away. 

“Would you like some wine?” He asked, gesturing towards the empty dinner table. She threw her hands up in frustration and shook her head.

“I don’t - I don’t know.” She grumbled.

“You don’t know if you want wine?” He teased. She sighed at him and slowly shook her head, he could see her face grow sullen, as if he had just broken sour news to her. 

“I’m uhm, I think I need to sleep. Goodnight my jarl.” She sighed as she continued to rub her forehead. She turned to leave but Ulfric knew he needed to make a decision. Wait and risk her running into the arms of another man, such as the man she rescued from thalmor captivity that would forever be in her debt and dedicate his life to her. Or risk his generals getting pissed at him for setting back the war. 

“Theodora.”

“ What ?” She groaned once more as he reached out and grabbed her wrist gently. He knew he could not resist. He pulled her back away from the door, pulling her body close to his. He expected her to pull back, but she relaxed under his touch as he reached up and held her cheek in his hand once more, but this time letting his instincts get the best of him. 

Chapter 23

Theodora was exhausted. She didn’t understand what the jarl wanted out of her. He barely asked about the mission, by Talos he didn’t even ask if she had retrieved the crown, she had to introduce that herself. 

    “Would you like some wine?” He asked, he had a smug expression as if he was satisfied with his interrogation of her personal life once more. She felt her face flushing with frustration. She had no idea what the jarl was playing at. 

    “I don’t- I don’t know.” She stuttered. 

    “You don’t know if you want wine?” She could tell he was teasing her, which only made her more frustrated. She was exhausted. She had booked it in the freezing winds back to Windhelm with a potential head injury just to deliver the good news to the jarl, and he was playing mind games with her. Was Thorald even in Windhelm or did he learn what she did long ago, and just waited with the information to throw it at her when needed? She had tried to excuse herself already, feeling herself growing more flustered with each word the jarl said to her. 

    “I uhm, I think I need to sleep,” She sighed avoiding his gaze, “Goodnight my jarl.”

    “Theodora.” She heard him speak her name softly, almost a whisper, his voice sending chills down her spine. 

    “What?” She groaned, unable to contain her frustration anymore. The jarl was driving her insane, playing mind games, not telling her what he wanted from her. She opened her mouth to demand to know what he wanted from her, but she felt her body be pulled back. She felt the warm grip of the jarl’s hand on her arm. She fell into his body, letting his arm wrap around her, she felt his hand touch her cheek once more. Before she could ask what in Talos’s name are you doing? She felt the warm, sweet touch of his lips pressing against hers. She found herself falling into his touch, letting herself kiss him back, breathing in his sweet smell. His beard scratched against her raw skin, but she didn’t care. His arm craned around her back, his other hand caressing her cheek. She had never been… held in such a way. Sure she had been kissed and mauled by a man, but she had never been touched so gently. And she certainly had not been kissed by a jarl . 

    She felt him pull away and she hated the deep pit of disappointment that had formed. But before she could ask again, what in Talos’s name are you doing? She felt his arm wrap tightly around her, kissing her with deep hunger once more. She felt the familiar ache in her body that she had felt late at night when she was alone. But this ache was… more intense than she had felt before. She had not expected to feel it from the jarl. 

    She felt his hands searching for the clasps of her armor as her hands pressed against his chest plate. She felt him pressed hard against her. All of her exhaustion faded as suddenly she realized how truly desperate she was to feel held by a man. By this man. But suddenly he pulled back once more, still holding her in his arms.

    “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, Theodora. It is selfish but I cannot keep away from you any longer.” He breathed softly into her skin. She chuckled and felt the yearning grow deeper. The unkindled desire to have him completely, to give herself to him completely. 

    “Then don’t .” She whispered back. He chuckled and she felt him move his hand from her face down to her hips, unlatching her armor, but as he pressed his lips into hers kissing her hungrily once more, a knock on the door jolted both of their attention.

    “Oh by Talos you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” He growled as he pulled away and stomped over to the door. She quickly straightened her armor and turned away, hoping whoever it was wouldn’t see her flustered face. 

    “What is it?” The jarl whipped open the door and barked at the intruder. Theodora felt rather smug; he was so cross for being… interrupted. She kept her face hidden but couldn’t resist craning her ear to listen.

    “Apologies my jarl, there has been another murder in the townsquare.”

    Theodora froze, another? She heard Ulfric sigh and a wave of surprising disappointment flooded over her. There would be no tensions released with the jarl. 

    “Who? Any witnesses?”

    “Susanna, the barkeep at Candlehearth. There were a few witnesses but they claim they saw nothing but a figure disappearing round the corner sir. The posted guard is in the grand hall my lord.” The guard responded gruffly. 

    “Damn it. Fine. I will be right there. Thank you.” Ulfric said shortly before closing the door quickly and exhaling. 

    “What did he mean by another murder?” Theodora asked. Ulfric sighed and shook his head.

    “That makes three women this month that have been murdered in the dead of night. Each time either no witnesses, or no one recalls seeing anyone.” He answered grimly. She knew better than to ask why there were no guards, most of the guards had moved to the palace, or were patrolling the border of Windhelm. 

    “I have to go deal with this.” He sighed after a moment. She cleared her throat and nodded, knowing that was her dismissal. She forced herself to walk across the room, though her body ached for her to stay. She brushed by the jarl who stood rubbing his forehead in frustration. But as she passed she felt his hand touch her arm once more, pulling her back. She felt his lips press gently to hers once more, his hand softly touching her cheek. She pulled away after letting herself indulge in his sweet touch for a few moments, and left before she could be pulled back any longer.

    Sleep overtook her as she laid in bed, feeling the jarl’s taste still on her lips. 

Chapter 24

She awoke early the next morning, not sure how much she even slept. Her skin was still caked in the day before, but she was so exhausted the night before she had fallen asleep in her armor. She groaned at the sunlight poking through the small window in her room as she ignited the fire with a small flame spell conjured from her palm. The heat immediately awakened her. She tried to convince herself the night before was merely an exhaust driven delusion, but she could still smell the jarl on her clothes, and she could practically feel his hand pressed to her cheek. Such a massive, powerful man, a veteran of war, a killer of kings, had touched her with more passion, and somehow more gentle, than anyone had in her whole life. Even more gentle than Ralof… She shuddered at the memory. The similarities between the two men haunted her. Both touched her cheek with a caress, but the jarl’s was much more… Well she didn’t know what it was but it certainly was different. Everything about the interaction with the jarl was different. She couldn’t quite tell if it was a good or a bad difference.   

She scrubbed every inch of her body three times to get all the bone dust and blood off her skin, but even after the water was filled with her filth and had long grown cold, she couldn’t quite force herself out of the bath. She knew if she did, she would have to go to breakfast, and see the jarl. Or she could go straight to the courtyard, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to focus without turning back to see if the jarl was watching her. She couldn’t process what had happened the night before. And she certainly could not write about it. No, she couldn’t risk anyone finding out about what she did. 

Perhaps the jarl was just lonely. She had not seen him with a woman before, perhaps he just needed… intimate company. But even that felt wrong as she remembered his words: you're the most beautiful woman I have ever seen . 

Then again, she knew what men were capable of when they were desperate for a woman’s touch. She had been told she was the most immaculate lay, even though she knew that certainly wasn’t true. Those men just wanted to release again. 

She was being childish, she needed to forget it happened, as the jarl most likely already had. He’d move on to the next most beautiful woman he’s ever seen by the time she got dressed, no sense dwelling on something that almost, but didn’t, happen. 

She nervously made her way down to the grand hall for breakfast after dressing in clean armor and brushing through her hair. All evidence of the day, and night before had been washed away as she told herself over and over nothing happened . Yet she couldn’t deny the sinking feeling in her stomach as she noticed the jarl was absent from breakfast. 

She sipped her coffee and picked at the bits of sausage on her plate, the hall was still rather full as Galmar had only taken a handful of men with them to Korvanjund. Theodora kept her glance shifting from the palace doors as she awaited the safe return of her housecarl, and in the direction of the private corridor, where she couldn’t help but look every time she heard movement. 

“Miss general, where are you from?”

Theodora turned her attention to the gaggle of young soldiers that had sat around her as she stared off in the distance, completely tuning out the chatting soldiers. Ysma, a very young blonde girl asked as she stuffed bread in her mouth. 

“Riften.” Theodora responded plainly.

“I’m from Riften too! Or… I was.” Grayon interjected eagerly. Theodora looked at the young boy and wondered if she had known his parents, if perhaps they worked with her own parents, or if they too were worthless drunks and sold their child into enlisting. 

“Well I’m from Winterhold. I am much more attuned to the cold.” Ysma added smugly. 

“You must be one of those evil mages then.” Grayon snickered at her. Ysma rolled her eyes and gave Grayon a less than favorable gesture with her hand. Theodora couldn’t help but chuckle at the bickering children, it was like having little siblings at times. 

“Is it true you can control the dragons?” Grayon asked, turning his attention back to Theodora. 

“No idiot she kills them and eats their souls.” Ysma scoffed back, her mouth full of bread once again. 

“How many imperials have you killed?” Polk, who had remained rather focused on devouring his eggs and hash, finally spoke up. The other young soldiers quieted down for her answer. Theodora sighed and set her cup of coffee down.

“I don’t exactly keep count.” She responded. 

“How many dragons have you killed?”

“Again, I don’t exactly keep count.”

“Do you have a husband?” Ysma asked. Theodora choked slightly in surprise at the question and held up her hand, showing her ringless finger.

“ No .”

“Why not?” 

Theodora sighed and felt like she was being questioned by her mother, “Because we’re in a war, not exactly the best time to get married.”

“But if we weren’t, do you have a suitor ?” Ysma giggled. Theodora could feel her cheeks reddening as the young soldiers pressed into her life. She clenched her jaw as that question haunted her. She didn’t know if she had a suitor. She didn’t know if Ralof was waiting for her. 

“No. Why do you have a suitor?” Theodora snickered at the young girl, whose face turned even redder than Theodora’s had.

“ NO! I don’t need a husband.” Ysma said in defiance. Theodora chuckled and nodded. Perhaps she needed to take a page out of the young soldier’s book. She listened as the young soldiers continued to chatter eagerly with each other. Theodora had gathered that Ysma was from Winterhold, but the family farm had started to fail after a gruesomely cold winter and they couldn’t afford to feed her, so she hopped onto the next cart to Windhelm. Grayon was from Riften, though he never said who his parents were, and it took Theodora awhile to realize the poor boy most certainly lived his life in the Riften orphanage, which meant he certainly knew her mother who helped tend the orphanage. Polk kept quiet for most of the conversation, he was more shy than the rest of the kids. Theodora found herself worrying most about his ability to fare when they inevitably were sent to battle. 

“Do you remember everyone you’ve killed?” Polk asked, bringing the chatter to a grinding halt. Theodora sighed and looked at the boy’s solemn face, his eyes filled with worry. 

“No. But the first one will always stick with you. Only a monster kills without feeling, remember that. But it’s also important to remember, they want to kill you . And you can’t let that happen.” She said quietly after a moment. 

“Who was your first kill?” Ysma asked. 

“I was in Helgen, when that dragon attacked. My first kill was an imperial soldier trying to kill my friend. I still see her face in my mind. But I would be more haunted if my friend had died instead of her.” She cleared her throat after a moment. It wasn’t so much the imperial’s face that haunted Theodora, it was the amount of blood that pooled out of her body, and the sound of her dying breath escaping. 

“But, enough talk. Time to train, go on and start your exercises.” Theodora added quickly, waving off the sullen soldiers. They all groaned but did not argue as they pushed themselves up from the table and trudged out to the back courtyard. Theodora finished her coffee as she stared down at her empty plate, the unwelcome memories of Helgen taking over her mind. Burning bodies, blood curdling screams, corpses everywhere, every inch of floor covered in blood, her hands covered in blood and blisters, her nose broken, her lungs filled with smoke, the taste of soot caked her mouth… 

She jumped back to reality escaping the suffocating memories once more as the doors to the palace flung open. She quickly looked over and felt a huge wave of relief wash over her as the soldiers she had fought beside the day before had finally returned. Her closest companion front and center, her nose bright red from the cold, and her expression sour from being left alone with the soldiers all night. Theodora pushed herself up from the table and embraced her housecarl in a quick hug before bumping elbows playfully as they always did upon returning from being separated.

“Honor to see you again my thane.” Lydia sighed. Her hazel eyes showed exhaustion, but her smile was genuine.

“Honor is all mine Lydia, I trust you had a pleasant evening in a crypt?” Theodora chuckled. Lydia rolled her eyes and groaned.

“These men are animals, and I’m starving. Please tell me there’s still food.” 

“By all means, breakfast just ended. I'm sure there’s still some left over.” Theodora gestured towards the table where Lydia did not hesitate to sit down and immediately pick scraps of the leftover bread and potatoes. The other soldiers took a note out of her book and followed, stuffing their tired and frozen faces as they relaxed once more. She glanced up and saw the back of Galmar disappearing into the war room as her stomach flipped, no doubt the jarl was in there. 

“So, how was the rest of the mission?” Theodora asked as she sat next to her feasting housecarl. Lydia chewed and bobbed her head as she worked on swallowing to answer the question.

“We all split the jewels we found, and the coin. But we didn’t find anything else significant. And thankfully, no imperial reinforcements showed up. After that we went to the Whiterun camp, that’s why it took us so long to get back. We slept for a few hours, waited to see if we’d be ambushed, and then made our way back here. Most of the men of course stayed behind given… well, you know.” Lydia explained between mouthfuls. 

“Mm what exactly do I know?” Theodora asked. Lydia furrowed her thick brow at her thane, her cheeks puffed with food.

“Whiterun. Galmar is pretty confident we’ll be heading there as soon as reinforcements from the north come in. The jarl didn’t say anything to you when you gave him the crown?” Lydia explained. Theodora’s stomach lurched, but she couldn’t tell if it was because of the planned siege of Whiterun, or the mere mention of the jarl.

“No, he uhm, didn’t.” Theodora cleared her throat nervously. She was certain even after the events that didn’t happen, she would remember if Ulfric mentioned something about taking Whiterun. 

“Ah well, it’s just what Galmar thinks anyway.” Lydia brushed it off. They both grew quiet around the feasting soldiers. Theodora could tell her housecarl was tense, and she was tense herself. Any moment they would be given the orders to go back to Whiterun, to destroy their home, potentially see their townsfolk dead in the streets. She thought of Carlotta and her daughter, the poor single mother working all day every day at that stand trying to make enough to keep her daughter fed. She thought of the off, but still sweet Arcadia who taught Theodora her first tips on creating potions herself in emergency situations. And she thought of caring Fralia, Thorald’s mother, who would always call Theodora sweetie and treated her like one of her own children. 

“Are you worried?” Lydia asked quietly. Theodora exhaled and shook her head.

“For us? No, I imagine we’ll be fine. Are you worried?”

Lydia shook her head but kept her eyes on her plate, “Whiterun’s our home.”

“I know.”

“I just hope it’s worth it.” 

Theodora exhaled deeply, “So do I.”

Chapter 25

The returning troops were ordered to rest, and much to Lydia’s dismay, Theodora ordered her to get some sleep. 

“We could get the orders at any moment, rest while you can Lyd. I’m not going to Sovngarde again to get you.” Theodora sighed at her stubborn housecarl. Lydia frowned but eventually gave in, trudging off to her private quarters where Theodora did not see her until dinner. 

Theodora spent the day waiting, her stomach never unknotting. She tried to focus on training the young soldiers as much as possible, but it just made her feel worse each time they fell to the ground or missed their target by a mile. She knew soon enough those kids would be on the battlefield, and she wouldn’t be there to tell them to get back up and try again. But she didn’t mention anything about Whiterun to them, the longer they could be in bliss still batting at each other like it was a silly game, the longer they could keep their innocence and not be kept awake at night with the horrors of what they’ve done. 

Theodora did not see the jarl at all that day and evening. Even at dinner. Most of the soldiers were still oblivious to the potential orders, so chatter continued as normal. Theodora was unable to rouse Lydia out of bed, but made sure to sneak her some bread and an apple for when she inevitably woke up. She set it on the nightstand next to Lydia’s seemingly lifeless sleeping body, snoring away peacefully, the linen wrapped around her body like a cocoon. Theodora chuckled at her peaceful housecarl and wondered if she had nightmares too. But her hardened face was soft while she slept, even if she did snore like a bear. 

Theodora quietly left her housecarl’s quarters and knew if she retired to her own quarters, she would be left with her mind wandering all night. Her eyes glanced in the direction of the jarl’s private quarters as she felt ridiculous for feeling a desire to see the jarl, she hadn’t seen him at all since their… whatever it was. 

She walked out of the private corridor and wasn’t quite sure where she was going, but she knew she didn’t want to sit in her bed all night running through the endless questions brewing in her mind. Though it was dark and freezing, she decided to take a walk through town, hoping the numbing air would clear her mind. 

The town was cleared out. All had gone to their homes or to Candlehearth to drink away their sorrows. A few guards walked around the edge of the walls, paying no mind to the fellow person dressed in blue. She tightly pulled on her fur gauntlets and tucked her hands in the creases of her crossed arms in hopes of keeping warm. 

She watched the cloud of her breath appear, and disappear, as she walked around in the numbing cold. By the time she had reached the edge of town she couldn’t feel her face, but she didn’t mind. At least she could focus on the numbing feeling rather than all the thoughts in her head. She considered popping into Candlehearth for some wine, but she was tired of being around drunken soldiers slobbering over one another like fools, raving about the women they’ve bed or would like to bed, or boasting about how skilled they are in battle. 

She circled around the market square, passing by the local blacksmith’s forge. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she realized there was another person out and about. A homeless woman, it appeared, barely wearing enough rags to keep her warm as she hovered by the dim forge fire. 

“Spare a coin?” The woman asked, her voice hoarse and full of dread. Theodora sighed and dug through her pockets, pulling out a handful of her spare coin and handing it to the woman, who’s sullen eyes lit up with horror.

“I have nothing to give you in return.” The woman said. 

“Go buy yourself something warm from Candlehearth, or at least some socks. We can’t have you freezing to death out here.” Theodora said as she dropped the coin in the woman’s pale frozen hand and turned to walk away.

“Be careful out here my lady, there’s talk of a murderer in the streets.” The homeless woman called out to her. 

“Same to you, my lady .” Theodora called back as she rounded the corner and headed towards the strip of houses. She paused and held her head back, staring up at the night sky, admiring the stars and their intensity on the clear night. The town was quiet other than the distant muffled sounds from Candlehearth. She wondered if it was always this quiet, or if people were too tired from the war to be out at night. Windhelm truly was a beautiful city, although it was freezing and most would say it was gray and lifeless, Theodora felt a strange comfort in it. Perhaps because it was completely different from Riften, sure it was full of sailors, but the thieve’s guild were nowhere to be found, and the city wasn’t built around a sewer. The walls were made of stone and stretched well into the sky, shielding the city from the harsh winds and the even harsher dragons. She felt… safe.

She heard footsteps rounding the corner as she moved along, assuming a guard was about to tell her to get off the streets so late at night like they did in Whiterun whenever she would take a midnight stroll. She pushed herself against the wall, hidden in the darkness as she watched the figure walk by her, unaware she was even in existence. It wasn’t a guard, it was a man. A nord, unsurprising. He wasn’t wearing a stormcloak cuirass, he was wearing simple merchant clothes. Theodora watched as he passed by the graveyard, quickly darting up towards the line of houses. 

She had to admit she was rather curious. She slowly crept out from her hiding and kept close to the wall, following the strange merchant deeper into town. He of course was oblivious to the dragonborn following him, as she had hunted many a dragon and knew how to keep light on her feet. 

The merchant circled the corner of houses, and she had started to get bored with him. Quite honestly she thought the man was sleepwalking with how he simply walked around the square of houses in circles, Theodora felt equally as foolish for tailing him for what seemed like hours in the freezing night. But she had to know what this nord was doing so late just wandering the townsquare. 

She was about to call it quits, mostly because she had lost all feeling in her toes, when the merchant came to a halt. She was worried he had heard her, but he did not turn around, he merely ducked around the corner pressing his body to the frozen wall. He was watching something. Perhaps he was following someone, and she was following someone following someone. But she couldn’t give up. She hid behind a stone pillar and kept her body hidden as she waited. She watched and saw a group of drunken soldiers stumble back towards the palace. She rolled her eyes at how loud and obnoxious they were being. Brutes. But that was how soldiers were. Either slopping drunk or trying to put their dick in the closest hole. She did not prefer the latter. 

She watched as an elvish woman scurried in the opposite direction of the hollering soldiers. No doubt they harassed her plenty. She wasn’t a dark elf, her skin was rather green, and she was quite tall (and that was saying something as most nords towered over others). She must have been a high elf. Even more dangerous. Theodora hated how she naturally tensed around all altmer, but the thalmor were all altmer themselves, and high elves had a reputation for being snobby and arrogant (and that was saying something as nords were rather arrogant themselves). 

She could hear the altmer woman muttering something to herself as she tightened her robe around her tall thin figure and scurried along the townsquare. The merchant was watching her too. Theodora had a sinking feeling in her stomach, that merchant was about to do something. She didn’t like to assume the worst, but when it came to men, it was often safe to. Especially nord men around non-nord women. She crept along following the merchant as he kept close behind the elf. Theodora wanted to scare him off, but she needed proof. She unfortunately needed that man to at least attempt something in order to stop him, or the guards would simply scoff and look the other way. Although, they very well may do that in this case seeing as the merchant was eyeing an elf and not a nord. 

They circled around back towards the town's merchant square. The homeless woman was no longer at the blacksmith’s forge, she must’ve taken Theodora’s advice and gone to Candlehearth with her coin. She watched from around the corner as the altmer walked behind one of the stands and started rummaging through things. It didn’t look like she was stealing, it must have been her stand. 

Theodora pressed closer as she saw the merchant begin to unsheath himself from the shadows. 

“It’s a bit late for your stand to be open isn’t it Niranye?” The merchant called out. Theodora recoiled at the sketchiness to his voice, he certainly sounded like a rat. 

“I’m closed. Simply came back to grab my key is all. Good evening Calixto.” The altmer called back, it was clear in her voice she was concerned with being alone in the merchant square at night. 

“But it’s such a beautiful night, would you care to join me for a walk?” The man Calixto , such a strange name, said back. 

“My sister will be expecting me, excuse me.” Niranye said quickly.

It all happened within seconds. She heard Niranye scream, Calixto grab her, and Theodora lunged forward. She saw Calixto had a knife, she grabbed him by the collar and threw him to the ground with all her strength as Niranya broke free and jumped back. 

“Are you alright?” Theodora asked the elf, who began to hyperventilate.

“That bastard almost killed me!”

“Yes but did he-”

Theodora felt a sharp pain in her side as Calixto lunged at her. Niranye screeched once more as she ran out of the way to find a guard. Theodora grit her teeth at the pain and felt more irritated than anything that the bastard tried to stab her. She threw her elbow back and clocked the man in the nose with enough force to knock him out. He fell to the ground, his head bashing on the snow with a defeated grunt. Theodora quickly kicked the dagger out of his hand and drew her sword, keeping it on his throat until the guards arrived. 

“My my you’re an awfully pretty one. I should have tried my experiments on you.” Calixto chuckled through his bloody mouth. Theodora did not engage, she didn’t want to know the gruesome details of whatever the sick bastard meant by ‘experiments’.

“There, there! He tried to kill me! And he stabbed that soldier who tried to help me!”

Theodora recoiled at the shrillness of Niranye’s voice but felt relieved, if the guards had taken any longer she wouldn’t have been able to resist cutting the bastard’s throat. 

“By the gods. We’ll take it from here. Do you need assistance, soldier?” One of the guards asked as the other grabbed Calixto by the collar and yanked him off the ground. Theodora felt the small wound in her side and shook her head. 

“I’m fine just, make sure she gets home safely. In case old Calixto here has a partner in crime.” Theodora groaned slightly in pain. 

“You’ve done us a great service. We’ll make sure to tell the jarl about this, what’s your name?” The guard asked. Theodora waved them off. 

“Don’t bother. I’m heading back to the palace. I'll let the steward know. Thank you.” Theodora said before hobbling out of the merchant square and towards the palace. She could hear the guards shuffling Calixto along not far behind. 

It was too dark to tell how badly the bastard had stabbed her, but she wasn’t feeling any pooling of blood drench down her side so she took that as a good sign as she hobbled up the palace steps. She stood as straight as she could and tried to not garner any attention as she pushed herself along through the grand hall and into the private corridor. 

The second her door closed behind her she conjured a healing spell. Immediately she felt the oncoming nausea and dizziness from loss of blood fade as the warm spell washed over her. She knew it was taboo to perform magic anywhere around her fellow stormcloaks, they’d all prefer to suffer while choking down a healing potion than let someone use a healing spell on them. Stubborn brutes. 

She peeled off her frozen armor and felt the hole where the dagger had gone through. Blood stained her hip, and the spot was tender, but her healing spell had at least closed the incision. She wiped the blood off with a dampened linen and grabbed her emergency needle and thread out of her knapsack, she didn’t want to ask Rose to stitch up her armor and draw any questioning. She hoped she could get away with no one knowing the events that occurred. All that mattered was that creep Calixto was off the streets. 

She sat by the fire and began stitching the side of her cuirass, remembering the countless hours she spent sewing as a child hearing the words of her mother in her mind. You'll never meet a husband if you don’t know how to sew up his clothes . Though the only time her mother had to sew her father’s clothes was when he was a drunken fool and ripped his clothes bumbling around and falling over. But Theodora found a calmness in sewing, she enjoyed being able to fix something and make it like new again. 

A pounding on her door made her nearly sew her thumb into her cuirass as she groaned and forced herself out of the comfort of the warmth of the fireplace. She trudged over to the door and whipped it open. Once again shock froze her body as she realized the jarl was standing before her. But his face was crumpled with anger.

“Theodora, a word .” The jarl barked at her as he strode into her private quarters past her, without invitation. Theodora sighed and closed the door, her stomach knotting as she sensed she had finally pushed the jarl past his limits.

“What were you thinking?” The jarl asked harshly as soon as the door closed. She hesitated, unsure of how much the jarl knew, or what exactly he was referring to.

“What do you mean?” She asked. He glared at her, his face crumpled with irritation.

“You know damn well what I mean, why, by the gods would you go out late at night when you knew there was a murderer rampant in the streets?” Ulfric barked at her. She recoiled at the harshness in his tone, the loudness of his booming voice.

“I just went for a walk . I saw a strange man following someone around, so I decided to follow him. And good thing I did because he tried to kill her.” Theodora explained trying to keep her annoyance to herself. Ulfric exhaled deeply at her.

“You could have been killed yourself! How can you be so thoughtless?” He yelled. She glared at him, his once soft face that stared at her so intently, that had kissed her so gently, was now full of rage and fuming anger. She had never seen him so angry before. Perhaps this was the true side of the esteemed jarl she was finally seeing. And she couldn’t keep her own anger suppressed anymore.

“ Thoughtless ? I caught a murderer and saved a woman’s life and you’re calling me thoughtless?!” She yelled back. 

“Yes, I am calling you thoughtless. You are under my command now and you recklessly decided to pursue a murderer on your own. You are not out collecting bounties anymore Theodora. You are a soldier. And you better fall in line. Tomorrow you leave for Whiterun.” He barked at her, his voice deep and booming off the walls, she was sure the entire palace could hear their spat. She grit her jaw shut and kept quiet, staring at the fuming jarl, unable to say anything else. She was certain their intimate moment before was long forgotten, and he had only kissed her out of a moment of loneliness. He sighed at her angrily once more and stomped away, pausing as he passed by her.

“By Talos if you disobey orders again, I’ll have your remains returned to Riften.” He growled harshly at her before slamming the door behind him. 

Her body felt numb as she stood frozen for what seemed like hours, trying to process what had just happened. The jarl had… yelled at her, scolded her, threatened her, for doing his city a service of catching a murderer. She had been accused of disobeying orders, when in fact he never ordered her to not pursue the murderer. She had never been ordered to not go on a late night walk. She had never been ordered anything! 

And perhaps most shocking of all, he had threatened to have her killed. Executed. And sent back to Riften. She felt her lip begin to tremble as her face grew hot and she couldn’t suppress the lump in her throat. How could she have been so foolish to tell the jarl things about her past? How could she not see he was just trying to gain information to hold over her head? She felt incredibly stupid. She should have listened when Lydia warned her about the jarl. She should have been more careful. 

She threw her cuirass onto the floor in anger, wishing she could toss it in the fire. But no matter how much the jarl pissed her off, she was still a soldier, she had still joined for a reason. She wiped away the tears of frustration that had poured down her cheeks, packed her knapsack for the day to come, and forced herself to lay in bed staring at fire until her eyes couldn’t stay open any longer. She was almost grateful she would be going to Whiterun, she didn’t want to be anywhere near the jarl anymore.

Chapter 26

Notes:

Ulfric POV
Please know whoever is reading this far into my fic I appreciate you! I have worked so hard on this and will continue on posting, hoping someone out there is enjoying reading this as much as I love writing it. Talos guide you.

Ulfric felt… terrible. He had let his anger get the best of him. He couldn’t believe what he had done. But when those guards told him a soldier with dark hair and a scar across her cheek, one they hadn’t seen before so she must’ve been new, had been patrolling the townsquare unauthorized and alone and had caught the ‘Butcher’, the fear that struck him that she could have been killed overruled any rhyme or reason. The guards were more than pleased, but Ulfric was fuming. How could she be so reckless? He had told her the murderer was targeting women in the dead of night, why by the gods would she go out for a stroll by herself? 

He wished he had taken the night to calm down, to have a glass of wine or scotch and think about Whiterun. Not the fact that the dragonborn had put herself in danger to save some elf. While he knew deep down he was grateful to her, he still could not control the anger at her for being so reckless. 

The second he slammed the door behind him after yelling at the dragonborn, he wanted to go back in and apologize. But the guards on post had most certainly heard the entire interaction. He couldn’t let on that he regretted being firm with one of his soldiers, it would make him look weak. He hoped the dragonborn would not take it personally… after all he had nearly made love to her the night before, she must know he feels deeply for her. 

“The troops will be ready to go before the sun even rises. I’ve already sent a courier to our Whiterun camp. We’ll have the city before Balgruuf even strolls out of bed.” Galmar chortled smugly as Ulfric stormed back into the war room. 

“A new day is dawning over Whiterun. I had hoped Balgruuf would not be so foolish.” Ulfric grumbled as he sat in his chair. Galmar pushed a glass of scotch over to him and picked up his own.

“With that dragonborn on the frontlines, little blood will be shed on our front. Word will reach Tullius that we’ve acquired her, perhaps the old milk drinker will surrender.” Galmar chuckled as he raised his glass and tipped it back. Ulfric sighed and did the same.

“Yes well, I may have pissed off the dragonborn. Hopefully she uses it tomorrow.” Ulfric said quietly, keeping the echo of his voice to a minimum. Galmar chuckled and shook his head.

“Oh Ulfric what did you do now?”

Ulfric groaned and rubbed his forehead, “She took on the butcher herself Galmar, she traipsed around the town square in the middle of the night without so much as her housecarl by her side. She’s reckless.”

“She’s a warrior , Ulfric. She could have gotten you the jagged crown by herself . Frankly I felt a little useless if I’m being honest. I’ve never seen someone with such skill. And her thu’um , I’m surprised I still have my hearing left.” Galmar said hoarsely. Ulfric frowned and shook his head.

“Have you considered if it had been any other soldier who had gone into town late at night and taken down the butcher, you wouldn’t be so sour?” Galmar added his brow raised at his jarl. 

Ulfric exhaled with a groan, “I may have burned that bridge tonight. I let my anger get the best of me.”

“You know Ulfric, I have many years experience with women.” Galmar began. Ulfric couldn’t help but laugh at his general, who had been quite the womanizer in their days as young soldiers. 

“Yes, I am aware Galmar. Though when’s the last time you bed a woman?” Ulfric shot at him.

“Last night.” Galmar responded quickly, “The point is , if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years is women don’t particularly care for being yelled at.”

“Thank you Galmar, by the look on her face I could have collected that myself.” Ulfric grumbled. 

“And an apology can go a long way. That or a grand gesture.”

Ulfric sighed and tipped back his scotch, “I’m afraid that will have to wait. We have a city to take. Just… try to not get her killed.”

Ulfric did not sleep that night. He spent all of it thinking of the dragonborn, how pissed she must have been at him, and rightfully so. He had been the jarl for many years, and a soldier before that, he was a commander of an entire army, he had experience with keeping a firm hand and reprimanding those who disobey orders. He was respected because of it. Half the country was fighting a war because of it. 

But courting a woman… he had little experience with that. He certainly had bed many women, had numerous lovers over the years, but he had never pursued a woman with serious intentions to marry. While Theodora was his soldier… he knew he would have her as his wife one day. He didn’t want her to hate him, that would make the courting process even more difficult. 

He awoke late. Throwing on his armor quickly and rushing out of his private quarters. The sun had already risen, he knew his men had already gone. He knew Theodora had already gone. He was too late. He knew if anything happened to the dragonborn, he would never forgive himself for letting his last words to her be a threat. An empty threat of course, he could never harm her. And he merely meant if she continued to be reckless she’d get herself killed. 

He didn’t know what to do with himself while he waited. He wished he could have gone to Whiterun, oversee the siege. Command as needed. But after Darkwater Crossing he knew he could not leave Windhelm again. 

He trudged back through the private corridor, pausing at the door he had slammed with anger the night before. Theodora’s quarters. He glanced around and saw no guards were in the hall, most of them were still eating, and the few that were on post were near his quarters. 

Before he knew what he was doing he was inside Theodora’s quarters. The fire was dead and cold, her bed was made, she was long gone. He let his curiosity get the best of him as he walked around her quarters, trying to hold onto every detail of the dragonborn that he could. The neatly made bed, the smell of lavender in the air, the goblet of water next to where she rested her head. He ran his fingers across the smooth pillow and hoped it had not been subjected to tears. 

He glanced around the room and sighed, the quarters were more than accommodating for her, but he wished he knew more about her to make the room… comforting. There were few books lined on her empty shelves, no vases of flowers to greet her, no fine jewelry for her to wear proudly. He wished he could make her his wife sooner, treat her like a true goddess, not some mangy soldier slumming in the barracks. 

He walked over to her dresser and noticed an ink blotch smudged into the wood, it looked like she had tried to clean it, but it had already stained. It appears as though she had been writing something. He opened the drawers but no scrolls or parchment were to be found. He found his curiosity overtaking him, had she been writing something to someone? A lover perhaps? Or worse, an imperial spy? No, certainly not. But he needed to be sure. Perhaps he had offended her so deeply the night before that she had sold his secrets. 

He found himself digging through her small chest of belongings. Some old tattered clothes, plenty of healing potions, and quite a few gems. He also found some old parchments, old bounties she must have kept for some odd reason. Perhaps she liked the keepsake. The one on top being a letter to Balgruuf… signed by him. He didn’t remember this letter specifically, because Jorleif had written it of course, but he remembered discussing with Galmar requesting the dragonborn come and deal with the rumored dragon nearby. 

He felt foolish as he continued to rifle through the dragonborn’s things, but she was so stubborn, this felt like the only way to truly get to know her. He was about to give up when he felt a book, a leather book, hidden at the bottom. He frowned and pulled it out of the cloth it was hiding in. He opened it, seeing if it detailed her treason. He leaned back in the chair he was sitting in front of her dresser and realized it was the dragonborn’s journal. 

He exhaled and heard footsteps outside the door. He quickly shoved the journal in his robes under his arm, and closed the dragonborn’s chest and drawers. He glanced around the room once more before quickly leaving, closing the door behind him and darting for his study. No one saw him go in, and the dragonborn wouldn’t be back for days, or weeks potentially. He had secured valuable information, he possibly held evidence of treason in his grasp. He’d be a fool not to investigate.

He nodded at the guards outside his study, “Come get me as soon as we receive word from Whiterun.”

“Of course my jarl.” The guard nodded back as Ulfric disappeared into his study. He quickly closed the door and latched it. He pulled the leather book out of his robes and held it, it was rather full, full of details of the dragonborn’s life. He sat at his desk and flipped it open.

He read each word carefully, feeling the indent from her hand pressing the quill into the parchment. She wrote of Helgen. She wrote of leaving Riften. Stealing her father’s coin and dagger. She spoke of being captured by the imperials. His fists clenched as he read about that bastard Mercer. He couldn’t keep from fuming as he thought of that skeever laying his hands on Theodora. He had only met the man once, but that was more than enough. 

He chuckled at her writing of himself, saying her father never approved of Ulfric, that he was only out for the throne. Ulfric was used to that sentiment, it was what many accused him of. And while he dreamt of ruling Skyrim, he would be content with another ruling as long as they had a spine and kept Skyrim true and honest without the empire. Elisif would never do that, and Torygg certainly didn’t. 

His stomach lurched as he kept reading. She spoke of another. Ralof . The name sounded familiar… As he kept reading he realized it was the fool who was in his personal guard that was on their cart with Ulfric and Theodora. The chatterbox. He felt incredible rage that Theodora had feelings for that simpleton. He shook his head with anger at the sentence she had written “I fear I am simply not desirable enough”. How could she not think she was desirable enough? How could that pitiful fool Ralof not make her feel desirable enough?He realized of course the hypocrisy, he had made her feel like a traitorous fool the night before.

He found himself unable to stop reading each and every word of the dragonborn’s writings. He was fascinated. She detailed becoming thane of Whiterun, meeting Lydia. He was more than amused at her disapproval of Balgruuf, calling him a stubborn brute with an anger problem. 

She even had charcoal sketches of the dragons. He couldn’t believe it. How incredibly detailed they were, as if he were facing Alduin once more. And there were… different kinds. She had detailed their different attacks.

Reverent dragon. I pray to Talos I never face this beast again. This is no ordinary dragon. It’s thu’um drains the life out of you. Its tail could take down a mammoth. 

Frost dragon. The frost breath feels worse than a burn sometimes. Poor Lydia has been on bedrest for a week since we battled that beast. Her toes are completely black. 

Alduin. Dead.

His eyes lingered on the sketch of Alduin as Helgen flashed in his mind. He remembered seeing the girl next to him, but he would’ve never realized it was Theodora. The girl was merely a girl , and her face was busted. She didn’t speak a word. Not that he remembered, it was all Ralof and that horse thief chattering. Ulfric could still taste the suffocating binds the damn imperials had put on him. If only he had known the fire breath thu’um, he could have burnt through the bindings. But it wouldn’t have mattered. He had surrendered, accepting his defeat. 

He was mortified as he read on, little by little he began to piece together her life after Helgen… She wrote frequently of this Ralof . 

Ralof is gone. He left without saying goodbye. I can’t stop the tears that come out over him. He could already be dead. I don’t understand why he is so insistent on rejoining this war. For Ulfric’s cause. Ulfric wasn’t with us in those dungeons, dodging corpses and crumbling walls, suffocating from the smoke pouring in. No, Ulfric had left behind his men. But Ralof is insistent Ulfric is a good man. From what I saw, neither he nor Tullius are good men. 

I miss Ralof every second. Every time I find myself close to death at the hand of a bandit I pray to Talos Ralof will be there to help me. But I have Lydia, she keeps me alive. I just hate how much I miss him. Our last night together was… I don’t know. I hurt for days after that night. My legs were sore… My groin is even more sore. Was it supposed to hurt that much? Was I supposed to bleed that much? He seemed disgusted with me. Perhaps he was. 

Ulfric furrowed his brow as he read these words. That bastard had defiled her, and abandoned her the next day. What kind of man is that? He didn’t know if this Ralof was still alive and in his troops somewhere, but he knew if he ever saw that bastard he wouldn’t be able to control himself. He’d probably throw him to the dungeons.

He was not angry with the words she spoke of Ulfric. After what she went through, being captured by the imperials for trying to escape, then on a cart with the ‘rebels’ sentenced to death. He didn’t intend to abandon his men in Helgen, but he assumed all were dead. He didn’t think anyone made it out of that watch tower alive. And he knew the gods wouldn’t give him another chance. He had booked it to Falkreath without looking back. He had no idea the woman who haunted his dreams was falling for another in that dungeon. 

But even worse than Ralof, he read the words she spoke of Mercer. He had tried to defile her. He had tried to rape her. But even before she had her gift she had managed to fight her way free. And Mercer was not incompetent. What he wouldn’t do to plunge his war ax deep in the chest of that dirty skeever… 

He paused in confusion, re-reading one of her entries over and over detailing Alduin’s defeat. She had… gone to Sovngarde. She had… died by the sounds of it. She was gone for a month in their time. He couldn’t wrap his head around it, the thought of Theodora gone. She could’ve never come back. That thought hurt him more than any words of yearning for another man. 

He reached her last entry. It was fresh, written the night before. 

I do not know how to feel. I have… almost taken a lover. But I do not know how he feels. His touch was so gentle, but his words were so harsh. I know for sure now it was merely all in my head. How could I ever dream of bedding such a man? 

I am going to Whiterun in the morning. Perhaps this will be my last entry. Sometimes I truly wonder what I have to fight for. If I lose Lydia, I will truly be alone. I will fight for those young soldiers and hope they do not have to see the battlefield. I will fight for all my shield brothers and sisters who want their home back. And I will fight for the hope that Lydia will no longer be hunted by the damn thalmor. I suppose I don’t wonder what I have to fight for, but I know it is not for myself. 

And I’ll make sure to ‘obey orders’ whatever in oblivion that means. 

Ulfric was even more disgusted with himself. He slammed the book shut and couldn’t believe he had spent all evening reading through her detailed entries. Learning such intimate details of her life. And now, he knew he had potentially ruined his chances at courting the dragonborn. She was in Whiterun, and she had doubt in her heart. Doubt he had placed there. 

He spent the night running through his mind how he could get to Whiterun without being caught. How he could get to Theodora and tell her he was a brute, and beg her to not doubt in her heart that he truly cared for her. But he didn’t even know if he could tell her that. They needed her on the battlefield, but he could not stomach her being away even for a few hours let alone weeks or months at a time taking siege of a fort. 

He needed to do something. But his generals would kill him if he left the palace. 

All he could do was wait. 

But he knew one thing was for certain, he wouldn’t be able to keep away from the dragonborn when she returned. 

He opened his desk drawer and unlocked the small safe hidden in the bottom, reaching in and taking out the contents. The documents declaring his jarl, signed by the court and himself many years ago; his father’s crest of Eastmarch; and on the bottom, an amulet that his father had given his mother, and his grandfather to his grandmother, and so on and so forth for many years. An amulet of Mara.

Chapter 27

Whiterun was engulfed in flames. The walls that previously made the townsfolk feel so safe were crumbling down.

  It’s not Helgen, we’re not in Helgen, move your legs dammit. It’s just like a bandit raid. Draw your bow and take out the snipers. Move! Get your shield out, they're starting to break the barriers. Where’s Lydia? Oh by the gods where did she go? Oh good she’s plunging her sword in the chest of a guard. Okay, remember what Galmar said, we need to get that damn drawbridge down. Oh I hope everyone in town is locked up safely. I never thought I’d see the city like this. But Balgruuf could have avoided this. 

Get to the drawbridge. Ignore the soldiers falling around you. Try to keep your thu’ums controlled to just the red bodies, not the blue. We don’t want to kill any brothers or sisters. But by the gods do they get in the way. 

Don’t focus on them, focus on the drawbridge. Once that’s down, the city is ours. 

Theodora weaved through a sea of battle cries as imperials and stormcloaks charged at each other with weapons drawn. She tried to not focus on finding Lydia to make sure she was still alive, but she couldn’t help but occasionally glance around until she saw her friend. 

Most of the archers had been sniped from the walls, giving them plenty of opportunity to charge through the barrier. Theodora unleashed her first thu’um as she pushed herself to the front, avoiding any stormcloaks in her way as she shouted. Dozens of imperials flung back, their bodies cracking as they hit the stone wall or the ground. Giving her the opportunity to climb the small hill into the guard’s keep, weaving through the corridor of the wall to get closer to the drawbridge. She could hear soldiers falling, screaming, dying. It all reminded her of Helgen too well. But she couldn’t think about that, she didn’t have time to think about that. 

She rounded the corner and slit the throat of an imperial standing guard, pushing his body out of the way as she sprinted along the tower bridge. She could see the drawbridge lever, but it was guarded by a sea of posted imperials and Whiterun guards. She inhaled deeply, calming herself and focusing her mind as she summoned her next thu’um, the same one as before, sending all the bodies flying in the air and off the watchtower. It was one of the times she was grateful the nords were too prideful to learn magic, they couldn’t summon a ward strong enough to block her thu’um.

She raced along the edge trying not to look down upon her fallen brothers and sisters, trying not to look for Lydia. She knew if she saw Lydia fallen, she wouldn’t be able to continue on. 

She felt something hit her back and knock her over as she fell to the watchtower bridge with a thud. She held up her shield as she tried to catch her breath, which seemed impossible, as if the wind had been completely knocked out of her lungs. She realized an imperial had snuck up on her and hit her with his war hammer. Luckily her steel plate under her regular armor kept it from breaking anything, but she could feel her lungs gasping for air. Without air, she couldn’t summon a thu’um. 

She held up her shield as the imperial brought his war hammer down for another swing. Her arms felt like they shattered under the force, but the imperial had put all his strength into that swing giving her the opportunity to knock him over. She kicked his legs out from under him and pushed his body off the watchtower bridge, watching him fall to the ground below with a thud, landing on his head. She looked away as the blood began to pool.

She lunged her body forward before another could get to her, grabbing the lever with her arms and pulling it as hard as she could. The drawbridge fell with a loud clang, followed by a sea of battle cries from her fellow nords. The drawbridge was down. Whiterun was theirs.

Chapter 28

“I knew you could do it, you son of a bitch!” Galmar roared with laughter as he wrapped his sweaty (and blood soaked) arm around Theodora and squeezed her. She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help but feel the same sense of pride as all the soldiers celebrated in dragonsreach with all the ale and wine they could loot. 

“For the dragonborn!”

“For the dragonborn!” The sea of soldiers bellowed as they clinked their bottles and tipped them back. After the drawbridge had been lowered, Balgruuf had no choice but to surrender. He knew the city was taken. Theodora had to admit she was a tad disappointed she couldn’t go head to head with that damned Irileth. Balgruuf and his court, minus his court mage, had all fled the city while the Stormcloaks drunkenly celebrated their victory. Some of them of course, Galmar made it clear Tullius could send reinforcements and the fight would continue. But for now, the Stormcloaks had secured Whiterun. 

Theodora embraced her housecarl as Lydia made her way into dragonsreach.

“By the gods are you okay? Did you hit your head again?” Lydia teased at her suddenly affectionate thane.

“Oh shut it let me be worried about you.” Theodora chuckled as she patted her friend on the back, “Are you alright, any injuries?”

“I may have cracked a rib, and I think I got one of the damn imperial’s shit on me. But other than that I’m okay. What about you my thane?” Lydia asked as she tenderly touched her side and winced in pain. 

“Got knocked on my ass but other than that I’m okay I think. Here let me.” Theodora said as she conjured the healing spell in her hands and held it to Lydia’s side. Other healers were working their magic on the reluctant nords, and frankly she didn’t care if anyone wanted to berate her for practicing magic. It had saved her and her housecarl’s life, she wasn’t about to be ashamed of it.

“Oh that’s much better thank you.” Lydia sighed in relief. “I’m parched, can I get you anything?”

“No, I’m quite alright, go enjoy.” Theodora sighed as she nodded towards the celebrating crowd. Lydia patted her thane gently on the shoulder before hobbling over to grab a pint of beer and join the festivities. She saw Lydia’s face light up as she bumped shoulders with another soldier. But Theodora didn’t feel like celebrating. She walked out of the main hall and into the mage’s quarters, where the injured had been set up on bed rolls. She walked around and helped to pass out extra healing potions, and summon healing spells for those who would let her. But it wasn’t long before Galmar found her once more.

“What are you doing?” He bellowed. She squinted her eyes at him and scrunched her face in confusion.

“I’m helping the injured, what does it look like I’m doing?”

He grumbled something under his breath and shook his head, “Get back to Windhelm immediately, notify the jarl of our success.” 

Theodora froze and panic flushed over her face, “Can’t we send a courier?”

“You want to send a courier to deliver such delicate and important news? Are you mad?” Galmar gawked at her as if she had just suggested they all get nude and dance around Solitude. She grit her teeth and knew she couldn’t argue with him, that would be ‘disobeying’ orders. She grumbled but stood up from the chest of potions she was rifling through and wiped her hands. She went to storm off but Galmar stopped her.

“Be patient with the old bear, he’s a good man.” Galmar said in a hushed tone. Theodora furrowed her brow at him and didn’t understand, but assumed he knew (or heard) the jarl chewed her out for nothing. She ignored him and stormed off. She found Lydia and let her know of her new ‘orders’, Lydia tried to pressure to come with her but Theodora insisted she stay and enjoy herself. Theodora was going to be miserable, no sense in extending it to Lydia as well. She hadn’t even told Lydia of anything that happened with the jarl. For all Lydia knew, the jarl was just the jarl, no kiss, no touching, no screaming. Perhaps that’s all he was to her now too, she should just forget everything that had happened between her and the jarl up to that point. The jarl was just the jarl. 

So why couldn’t she unknot her stomach the entire way back to Windhelm?

Chapter 29

She did not stop her entire way back to Windhelm, Raven (her trusted horse she had bought many months ago) had not failed her before, and kept a strong pace all the way back to the wintery hold. Theodora grew more and more tense as she prepared to face the jarl once more. Just tell him Whiterun has been successfully under siege by the Stormcloaks. Vignar Gray-Mane has stepped up as Jarl. Galmar has stayed behind to make sure imperial reinforcements are not sent in. Keep it short, quick, and keep your seething attitude to yourself .

It was night as she returned to the stables, dropping off her devoted steed and tipping the kind stableman well. Every step across the frozen bridge leading into town felt like a mile. But the sooner she got back to the palace, the sooner she could take a hot bath, get a hot meal, and lay her muscles down to rest. She didn’t imagine sleep would be her friend that night. Not after everything she saw. Everything she did. 

She breezed through the townsquare, her legs completely numb, her body exhausted and starving, and finally reached the palace. The guards did not harass her as she passed, as they most likely had been anticipating someone’s arrival all evening. She took one last deep breath before pushing open the palace doors.

The grand hall was practically empty. Except for Jorleif, who was poking the grand fireplace and immediately perked his attention as he realized who had entered the palace.

“Lady dragonborn, I trust you brought good news?” He said as he bustled over to her. His mustache practically twitched with anticipation. She nodded and tried to catch her breath.

“Yes uhm, Whiterun is ours. You can tell the jarl.” She sighed in relief as she forgot she could escape through Jorleif. But the steward frowned and shook his head.

“No, the jarl has requested you see him immediately upon returning. He has been very impatient. He’s in his quarters now, go go .” Jorleif shooed her along as Theodora groaned. The jarl has been ‘impatient’ that only meant she probably had another yelling match to look forward to. And she was far too tired to continue to hold her tongue. 

She trudged through the private corridor and up the stone steps leading to the jarl’s private quarters as memories of the last time she was there flashed in her mind. The feeling of the jarl’s lips upon hers… She shook off that thought. She was just a soldier delivering news. Nothing more.

She exhaled deeply as she prepared to knock on the jarl’s door. The less words you say, the better. Get in, get out, get some food and a bath . She raised her arm and knocked her sore, frozen knuckles against the jarl’s door, holding her breath as she waited. 

The door flung open as if the jarl had already been on the other side, as if he had sensed she had arrived. She glanced at him quickly but could not bear to look in his eyes.

“Whiterun is yours. Balgruuf has surrendered.” She exhaled and nodded politely. The jarl sighed and stared at her, but she couldn’t keep her gaze on him. She felt embarrassed each time she met his eyes, replaying their last interaction. She wanted to leave, but she knew it would be ‘disobeying’ orders if she left without dismissal. She stepped back slightly and waited, for anything. Even if it was yelling. 

“Well uhm, I won’t keep you any longer.” Theodora cleared her throat nervously after a tense silence passed between them. She turned to leave but felt the jarl grab her wrist, pulling her into his private quarters as he closed the door. She tensed her body not knowing what to expect. But suddenly she felt the jarl let go of her, his hand reaching up and brushing the fallen hair out of her face. 

“You’ve no idea how worried I was.” He said quietly as he cocked his head and stared intently at her. She furrowed her brow at him and stepped away.

“Theodora, wait.” He said before she could storm off.

“I don’t understand. Last we spoke you were threatening to have me executed if I disobeyed you and now suddenly you’re worried about me?” She spat feeling her face hot with anger. He glowered at her, his face crumpling as if he didn’t know what she was referring to. 

“I- I did not threaten to have you executed I-” He exhaled deeply and rubbed his forehead as if he were frustrated with her , “I was… angry. I should not have said the things I said but you have to understand why I was upset.”

“I don’t understand why you were upset I stopped a man from murdering a woman, and countless others if he hadn’t been stopped.” She shot at him, stepping back once more to give herself distance, her arms crossed tensing her body as she waited for the jarl to pull some political bullshit out of his ass. But he did not yell, he sighed and rubbed his face.

“Theodora please, you could have been hurt, you could have been killed .”

“Well I wasn’t, and look at me now, got you an entire hold with only a few scratches and bruises on me. So you can stop worrying, your war weapon is not going anywhere. Except of course to the next hold you’d like to siege. Goodnight .” She spat in irritation. 

“Theodora, please .” The jarl's voice halted her from storming out, he sounded… not angry… but desperate. She paused and turned towards him once more. He walked over to her, his steel boots clanking against the floor, each step sending chills across her arms as he grew closer. She could smell his sweet, intoxicating scent, hear his steady breathing, feel the warmth of his massive body as he stood close to her, practically touching her. His hand brushed her cheek gently, his thumb tracing her scar gently.

“You have no idea how deeply I care for you. I have not been able to focus since you left this morning. Not because I worried of Whiterun, or your capabilities in battle, or if Balgruuf would surrender. I knew we would have Whiterun in no time. But I worried that you would be hurt. That I would lose you. Not a weapon in my war, but you .” He said quietly, his voice rich and soothing as he kept her cheek in his hand. She sighed and shook her head.

“I don’t understand you.” She said.

“I know. I’m sorry I have not made my… feelings clear to you. At first I thought it was mere curiosity, but the more I spent time with you, the more I watched you, the more I realized you truly fascinated me. I have never been… fascinated before. I was going mad waiting for you to get back from Korvanjund. And today? Well, frankly I haven’t eaten. I haven’t rested. I’ve had half a mind to saddle a horse and take it to Whiterun just to make sure you were alive.” He continued. She could feel his breath warm on her as she kept her eyes lowered, only seeing his fine robes over his chest plate. She didn’t dare meet his gaze.

“Did you think I was lying the other night? When I told you you were the most beautiful woman I have ever met? And I couldn’t stay away from you?” He asked, chuckling softly. She sighed and shook her head.

“Men say a lot of things.”

“I am not some soldier looking to use you, Theodora. Have I not been cordial with you? Honest with you?” He asked. 

“I- I don’t know I suppose. I do not understand, is it because I’m the dragonborn because I can assure you, the fascination will die out.” 

He sighed at her and brushed her hair out of her face, holding her in his hands as he tilted her head up forcing her to look at him. His head was cocked, staring intently at her, his eyes were the same hauntingly blue, but they were solemn. He looked tired, as if he had not slept, as if he were telling the truth. 

“You’re the most remarkable woman I’ve ever met, I can assure you , this fascination will not fade.” He whispered drawing closer to her, their bodies touching as she relaxed into his touch. She hated how comfortable she felt in his hands, how the scent of him put her at ease. She was safe, and she didn’t know how to process that. She didn’t know if she could trust it. But for the time being, she thought she could try.

He pressed his lips gently to hers, pulling her body into his grasp. His lips were soft, warm, compared to her still frozen face. His thumb rubbed against her scar as he kissed her with more intensity, more hunger, their noses gently brushing against another as she felt herself hungrily kissing him back. All the anger within her seemed to fade, all she felt was a deep yearning. He pulled back gently and smiled softly at her.

“You must be starving. Please, sit. I’ll go get some dinner for us. I haven’t eaten either.” He said quietly as he pressed his lips to her forehead. 

“I’m uhm, I’m a tad filthy from today. I should… go change.” She said as she remembered she was still covered in the day's battle. He chuckled and nodded.

“I have a bath, I must say it’s much bigger than yours. Go, take your time. I’m not going anywhere.” He said to her, she cleared her throat nervously as he pulled away and gestured towards his bathing room. She shook her head at his stubbornness, but felt a strange sense of satisfaction that he wanted her to stay so badly he offered his own private bath for her instead of using her own. 

“ Fine . Let me go get some clothes that aren’t bloodstained armor.”

“No need, I have a set of robes for you.” Ulfric waved her off and swiftly walked over to his dresser, opening it and pulling out a set of dark blue robes. She eyed him in suspicion as she took the robes out of his hands and sighed.

“You stump me.” She shot at her with a smirk as she walked across the room towards his private bathing quarters. She closed the door behind her and marveled at the grand bathing area. His clawfoot tub truly was more massive than hers, enough to hold a multitude of people. She frowned at that thought, the jarl probably had women in his bath before. Well of course he did, he was the jarl . She peeled her blood soaked, dirt covered, sweat caked armor off and folded it neatly on the ground. She could only imagine how she looked compared to the rough shape her armor was in.

She drew herself a warm bath as she sat on the lip of the tub, checking her bare body for any cuts that may have been hidden. There was a gash on her forearm, no doubt from when she was knocked over on the drawbridge. Her back was sore from being hit so hard, but from what she could tell she had managed to come out rather unscathed. 

She eased into the tub wincing at her sore muscles as she soaked her body, letting the dirt and blood wash off. She could hear the jarl shuffling around in his quarters. She tried to process everything that had happened. The jarl went from hating her, to suddenly confessing… well she didn’t quite know what he was confessing. He said feelings. But those feelings could purely be of lust, not of affection. 

She scrubbed her skin raw, wincing at the spots that most certainly would be blue and purple with bruises the following days, washed the dirt and blood out of her scalp, and tried to focus on anything other than the fact that she was naked in the jarl’s private quarters, and they had just engaged in serious kissing. Not to mention her body ached in an entirely different manner each time the jarl even looked at her, let alone kissed her with such intensity… 

She forced herself out of the relaxing bath and dried herself off with a spare linen. She picked up the robes and chuckled at the jarl having a spare set, as if he prepared for this very moment. Perhaps he did, but not with a specific woman. But she pulled the robes over her tired muscles and tried to ignore the fact that they fit her perfectly, as if a seamstress had designed them just for her body. 

She combed through her hair and tried to squeeze out as much water from the wet clumps as she could, brushing the long strands behind her ears, then unbrushing them so they hid her face, then brushing them again. She groaned and knew she was taking too long. She took one last deep breath, neatened the wrinkles out of her dress, and pushed open the door. 

The jarl had changed as well. She was surprised to see him not dressed in armor, but instead in fine robes, similar to how she saw other jarls dress (those who weren’t leading a war and had to be prepared for battle at all times). He looked… well he looked quite handsome in his blue robes. Though she had to admit she often admired how well the armor suited the jarl, making him even more… intimidating and rather magnificent. 

“I had the cooks send up potato and venison stew, I can imagine you are starving.” He said as he gestured towards the already set table. Her stomach churned with hunger at the smell of stew filling the air. She sat in the chair he held out for her and breathed in his sweet scent, almost forgetting about the food entirely. 

“Are you hurt at all?” He asked as he poured her some wine. She shook her head quickly.

“Bruises, a couple cuts. Nothing major.”

“And your housecarl?”

“Oh Lydia is fine, celebrating with the rest of the drunken lot as we speak I’m sure. And Galmar is fine, drunk, slobbering drunk, but fine.” Theodora chuckled as she sipped the wine, welcoming the sweetness in her dry mouth. 

“I’m assuming Tullius had men there.” 

“Mm, quite a few, but nothing unmanageable. But I don’t know how many men were lost…” She trailed off but he shook his head.

“Much more would have been lost had you not been there, I have you to thank for that. But… I must warn you.” He started, sipping his wine and clearing his throat.

“Oh?” She asked.

“Word will reach Tullius soon that you were at the siege of Whiterun. I’m afraid this will put a rather large target on your back.” Ulfric continued. She shook her head and swallowed the chunk of hot stew in her mouth. 

“I’ve had a large target on my back since I pissed off the thalmor, not to mention various bandit clans trying to eliminate me before I could eliminate them .” She said.

“Tullius is no rogue bandit chief.”

“But is he more dangerous than the thalmor?” She shot at him. He sighed at her, worry seeping in his eyes.

“I just want you to keep that in mind, to be careful . Tullius and the thalmor go hand in hand. I worry they will do everything in their power to…”

“Eliminate me. Or capture me for intel.”

He exhaled heavily at her, “More or less. Promise me you will be careful.”

She set her spoon down and cocked her head at him, “I am always careful. How do you think I’ve managed to stay alive all of this time?”

He chuckled softly at her, “Humor me, will you?”

She rolled her eyes but felt her cheeks redden at his persistence, “ Fine . I promise I will be as careful as I can be. But I am still a soldier.”

“Yes, I am painfully aware of that.” He sighed at her. She opened her mouth to question that statement but she brushed it off. She shoveled more stew down, as lady-like and proper as she could muster. 

“So, tell me. I have to admit I am rather curious. How exactly did you escape Helgen? Last I saw you, your hands were bound.” He said after a moment, continuing to eat. 

“How did you escape Helgen?” She shot back at him, her body tensing at the memories flooding back in, feeling her wrists bound together, feeling… helpless. Utterly helpless as Alduin destroyed an entire village with one fell swoop.

“I went out the watchtower when the guards were distracted, managed to get out of Helgen with a couple of my men and hike it on foot to the nearby camp. From there I went directly to Windhelm.” He answered plainly. She sighed and knew she now had to answer. 

“That soldier and I.”

“Ralof.” He finished. She eyed him knowing she had not spoken of Ralof before.

“Uhm, yes. You know all your soldiers' names?” She asked. His eyes focused on hers and he waved her off. She sighed and continued on.

“Yes, I followed Ralof into the keep. I took a fallen soldier's gear and ax and I followed him down through the dungeons. We met up with a few other soldiers but I don’t think they made it out. There were imperials. Spiders, and a bear believe it or not. But we came out near Riverwood.” She explained slowly, trying to choose her words carefully so as to not reveal too much. 

“And from there?”

“From there I went to Whiterun, informing Balgruuf of the situation. He gave me a retrieval mission. After a couple weeks and no sign of the dragon, I went and got what the jarl wanted, then another dragon showed up near the Whiterun watchtower. I helped defeat it, and well that's how I learned about… you know. After that he named me Thane. I had Lydia by my side, we went to the Greybeards after saving up some coin… eventually we were able to buy a house…”

“But you had to hunt down Alduin.” He finished. She nodded.

“Yes, unfortunately the Bla- the uhm… well it was made clear to me it was my responsibility.” She stammered. But the jarl did not let her slip go.

“Who were you working with? You started to say something.”

She sighed and hesitated, knowing the less people that knew about Delphine and Esbern, the better. But the jarl… Ulfric… was not someone who would seek out to destroy the blades. He was quite the opposite, frankly any enemy to the thalmor was a friend to him, she assumed. 

“The Blades.” She answered after a moment. He narrowed his eyes on her in confusion.

“I thought they were all dead.”

“Two remain. Being hunted by the thalmor at every second. One of them was hiding in Riverwood… She found me first. Then we discovered the other was hiding in Riften. In the ratway .” She said bitterly. 

“Arengir must have been displeased with you working with the Blades.” Ulfric chuckled as he tipped back his wine. 

“Oh extremely. And the feeling was mutual, the Blades despise the Greybeards. But I didn’t care. Alduin is… in the past now. Hopefully gone forever.”

“I’m sorry, Alduin is probably a very… unpleasant subject for you.” He said after she grew quiet. She shook her head quickly.

“Alduin is… was… well he was a bastard but he does not haunt me.”

“But something does.” Ulfric pressed. 

“Isn’t everyone haunted by something?” She chuckled as she sipped her wine nervously. 

“Yes but… you have been through much more than others.” He added with a frown as he stared intently at her. 

“For example, I cannot sleep some nights because I have dreams of being in thalmor captivity once more, or worse, I dream that the thalmor have taken those I care about. I had a dream just last night you were taken. It kept me awake for hours.” He said quietly. She listened and felt… pained for him, and shocked that the great Bear was indeed haunted at night by his past. But she had to admit, her heart fluttered at the fact he had dreamed she had been taken, and this had haunted him out of sleep. Perhaps he wasn’t lying after all… She sighed and chewed her cheek nervously.

“I do not dream of Alduin. Well, sometimes. But I am not haunted. But sometimes, I hear something, or I smell a burning fire, and it brings me back… to Helgen. I see the burning bodies, I smell the burning bodies, I see the blood of… the first person I ever killed. It never leaves me. Her blood never leaves me.”

“It must have been hard for you to come here.” He said quietly after a moment. 

“I have to admit I was terrified to see you. And it was… difficult putting on the cuirass again. That was the first armor I ever wore.” She cleared her throat, “But it was nothing compared to when I went to Solitude. I didn’t sleep the entire time we were there. And when I did Lydia had to wake me up because I was so… restless.” 

Ulfric grew quiet as he listened to her, she worried her words would come back to haunt her, but she was haunted enough. She hoped the jarl would trust her more, and frankly she trusted him more hearing of his fears. She didn’t want to think of the horrors the thalmor inflicted on him, enough to keep the esteemed war veteran awake at night. She had seen what the thalmor were capable of, she had felt the singing pain of their magic spells paralyzing her, but she was lucky enough to defeat them. Ulfric had merely managed to escape. 

She felt her eyes growing heavy as the wine flowed through her and her muscles began to relax. Her body was exhausted. But she didn’t want to fall asleep. She worried she would wake up and it would have all been a dream, that the jarl would still be pissed at her, that this was all some injury induced fantasy and she would awake in a bed cot in Whiterun with a healer standing over her. 

“I have selfishly kept you long enough. You need rest.” Ulfric sighed after a moment. She frowned but did not have the strength to argue. He pushed himself up from his seat and held out his hand for her to take. She took it, feeling the warmth of his fingers wrapped around hers, wishing he would not let go. 

“I have a rather… selfish request.” He sighed quietly as he pulled her to her feet.

“What’s that?” She asked, suppressing a yawn. He brushed her hair out of her face as she felt her cheeks redden.

“Will you stay with me tonight? I won’t… how do I put this gently… I won’t ask anything of you. I have spent all day worrying you were hurt and I must admit I do not want to bear sleeping without knowing you’re fine and by my side.” He explained softly as he brushed her hair back with his fingers. She cleared her throat nervously and nodded.

“Okay.” She said softly. He exhaled and pressed his lips to her forehead gently. After a moment he pulled back and gestured towards his bed.

“I will get you a sleeping gown.” He said as he walked over to his dresser once more and pulled out a silk undergarment gown. She felt her hands shaking as she took it from him, realizing what she had just agreed to. She had never… slept next to a man before. Sure she had laid with a man, but they never slept in her bed or vice versa. He turned away respectfully as she undressed and quickly slipped on the undergarment, though frankly she couldn’t keep her eyes to herself as she watched the jarl strip his outer robes, revealing just his thin undergarment. He blew out the candles around the table, leaving just the fireplace dimly lighting the room. She sat sheepishly on his bed, watching him cross the room and noticing the thin white scars all along his chest. She didn’t want to know what caused those, but she imagined it was from years and years of battle. It made her feel more at ease about the scars that creased her skin. 

She relaxed at the soothing feeling of his mattress, one of the most comfortable she had ever been in, and the linens were warm against her cold skin as she sheepishly slid into the bed. She tried to steady her breathing as Ulfric did the same, she could feel his body heat radiating onto her bare skin which only made her more nervous. 

She waited. Waited to see if she would feel his breath on her skin as he pulled off her thin garment and had his way with her. Waited to see if he had lied to her, and really just wanted her in his bed for release. But as she settled in, her heart rate steadying, focusing on the sound of his breathing, she realized perhaps he wasn’t lying. 

Her heart rate quickened as she felt his arm move around her, pulling her body close to his as she accepted what was about to happen. But she realized he was merely pulling her closer to him as he settled onto his back, resting his head on his pillow. She exhaled and gave in, letting herself rest her head on his warm chest, her arm laying across his stomach moving with his breathing. His arm laid across her back as she felt his fingers tracing her skin. She felt… strange. She felt calm.

And before she knew it, she was asleep. 

Chapter 30

Ulfric awoke before Theodora the next morning. He laid next to her, unable to move in fear of disturbing her. She was laying on her stomach, her arms wrapped around one of his pillows as she peacefully slept. He couldn’t help but stare at her, the blanket had fallen, only covering from the waist down. The sleeping gown slightly crumpled, but revealed her shoulder blades and back. He wanted to trace his fingers across her skin, feel the softness of her, but he knew it would wake her. If he was being honest, he wanted to do much more to the dragonborn, but he had somehow managed to resist. Though his typical morning excitement had returned, and he hoped she would not take offense if she saw his erection under the blanket. She was indescribably desirable to him, and he didn’t know how much longer he could resist. But he wanted to court her the honorable way. 

    He laid in bed wishing the peace would continue on, but he knew at any moment one of the guards would be pounding on his door needing something . It was a rarity he was able to sleep in. But that was the price of being the jarl, and the leader of a war. 

    He stared at the beautiful goddess of Dibella lying peacefully in his bed but he pained to know it could not last. This woman, as she reminded him, was a soldier. A soldier in his war. After the quick success of Whiterun he knew he could not pull her out of the war. But could he suppress his feelings until after the war? Could he wait to announce to the entire country that the dragonborn was his, and his alone? Now that he knew that bastard Ralof had her heart he couldn’t just send her out there to fall in love with him again. 

    A knock at the door jolted the dragonborn awake. Ulfric groaned and cursed whoever was on the other side of the door as he quickly pulled on his discarded robes. He noticed Theodora had quickly done the same, flinging the linen off her legs and grabbing her robes from the night before.

    “It’s fine, it’s just a morning update I’m sure. Get back in bed.” He said quickly. He walked over to the door and cracked it open slightly.

    “Yes, what is it?”

    “Courier, from Galmar my jarl.” The guard said, handing him a scroll. Ulfric took it quickly and nodded.

    “Thank you, anything else?”

    “That is all my jarl.”

    “Please have the cooks send breakfast up to my quarters for myself and my general, I’m having a meeting.” Ulfric added quickly. The guard nodded and quickly turned to leave as Ulfric closed the door. He sighed and unraveled the scroll, hoping it was not Galmar asking to send the dragonborn back for reinforcement. 

    A new day has dawned on Whiterun.

    Balgruuf has fled. 

    Bone breaker has proven herself once more as a force to be reckoned with. 

    Ulfric chuckled at his general’s words. Galmar had referred to Theodora with the endearing term bone breaker after Korvanjund, and frankly it was safer than referring to her as the dragonborn. 

    She’s got guts that one, a true daughter of Skyrim

    Ulfric read these words carefully as he recalled the words his dear friend said before departing for Whiterun. If you’re really serious about this one, send her with me to Whiterun. I’ll see where her heart lies, if she is a true daughter of Skyrim. One’s true intentions are brought out in times like these. 

    He glanced up at the dragonborn looking at him, her brows raised in confusion.

    “I’m sorry, did you say something Theodora?” He cleared his throat and shoved the scroll in his pocket.

    “I said is everything okay in Whiterun?” Her eyes full of worry. 

    “Yes, everything is fine. Galmar just sent word in case…”

    “In case I died on my way back.”

    Ulfric sighed at her, “More or less.”

    She stood up from the bed ignoring his previous command, already dressed in her robes from the night before. 

    “Will you have breakfast with me? I’d like to discuss next steps with you.” Ulfric said gesturing towards the table, still set from the night before. 

    “Next steps as in the next hold to take?” She asked as she sat down. 

“More or less.” He said coyly to her, her cheeks flushing each time her eyes met his. He loved making her nervous. 

A knock at the door bought him a few more moments to think of an answer for her. He saw Theodora jolt her posture up as Ulfric tied his robes and walked over to the door, clearly she knew as well as he did, the less people that suspected relations between them the better. He opened the door and let Rose and Faylean, two of his longest serving servants nodded politely as they pushed the cart of breakfast into his quarters. 

    “Hello Rose, how are you doing?” Theodora asked as she smiled softly.

    “I am very well how are you lady dragonborn? I am happy to see you are not injured.” Ulfric heard Rose say back. Ulfric stood by the door and watched the interaction unfold. Faylean cleaned the dishes from the night before as Rose replaced them with the new dishes, and Theodora tried to help, but Rose waved her off.

    “How often must we go over this my lady?”

    “Every time Rose.” Theodora sighed and sat back in her seat. Ulfric was amused nonetheless that Theodora and Rose seemed to have a closeness, but of course, Theodora was a wonderful woman; it did not surprise him that she spoke to the servants and made polite conversation. 

    “Thank you both.” Ulfric cleared his throat as the two servants finished cleaning and excused themselves from the room. He walked over and sat down across from Theodora who was rubbing her eyes, her face pink, her hair slightly messy from sleeping. 

    “Coffee?”

    “Yes.” She said quickly, “Please.”

    He chuckled and poured her a tankard of coffee, and pulled the lid off the tray of food in front of her. Fried eggs and hashed potatoes, with leftover venison pieces. He could tell she was still starving. He remembered what it was like to be young and at war, no food or sleep was ever enough. He watched as she quickly dug in, devouring the eggs first. The other days when he would see her at breakfast, he would notice she always had a cup in her hand, it must’ve been coffee as it took her no time to finish the steaming tankard in front of her. 

    “You wanted to discuss next steps?” She asked after realizing Ulfric was more watching her, rather than eating his own breakfast. He sighed and nodded as he reached over and poured her more coffee. 

    “Yes. I do.” He cleared his throat nervously as he tried to think of the words to say to her. He didn’t want to offend her, but he needed to be clear and concise. He could not risk her misinterpreting his words and running in the arms of another. And he needed her to stay alive. And he needed it all to keep quiet. 

    She stared at him, her brow raised as she waited for the words to come out. And he had to admit he was rather distracted by her. Her cheeks were much more pink in the morning, before the cold had a chance to nip her skin. And the warmth of the coffee seemed to be making it more prominent. Plus, he was distracted by how well the robes fit around her. She truly had a perfect figure, and he was desperate to see more of her. 

    “You know, I was not always in line to be jarl.” He cleared his throat after a moment. She narrowed her eyes at him in confusion.

    “But I thought you were an only child?” She asked. He shook his head.

    “I had an older sister. Ivanna. I spent most of my childhood preparing just to be a soldier, though believe it or not I was a rather scrawny child, so my father did not have much faith in me. Regardless, the focus was not so much on me as a child, it was on grooming my sister to become the Jarl of Windhelm. I listened to countless lectures from my father about speaking sentences with proper grammar, giving orders and not asking questions, being firm but not overly controlling…and Ivanna was geared to be compassionate. Since she was a woman.”

    Theodora cocked her head at this but Ulfric waved her off, “I did not agree with my father’s methods, but he wanted to remain jarl even after he was gone. I watched him control my sister, and an aspect of that was telling her she would never make a decision on her own. The people of Eastmarch, and the people of Skyrim came before her own personal needs or wants. And that included, who she chose to marry.”

    “She had a suitor picked out for her, someone twice her age, a member of my father’s council. She wanted no part of it, I would hear her argue with my father and my mother endlessly. She had claimed she sacrificed everything she wanted to be, to train to become jarl, and she would not sacrifice her freedom to choose who she wanted to marry. My father, of course, did not approve. So, my sister fled. By this time I was already training with the Greybeards of course so I received letters from my sister detailing this. And letters from my mother asking me to come home to help control Ivanna.”

    Ulfric sighed and saw how tense Theodora had become, but continued on, “By the time I had made my decision, the war had started. My sister had been captured, and killed. When I went home after the Greybeards refused to aid the war, my father had no… no sadness to him. I do not wish to speak ill of my father because he was indeed a great man, but he had lost sight. He had let being jarl overtake all his morals.”

    “My point is Theodora, I do not wish to become my father. Nor do I wish to become my sister. I was not expecting to become Jarl; commander of war, certainly, I was trained as a child to be a strong soldier. And as soon as I was sworn in as Jarl, the topic of my… marriage came up. Repeatedly. I was told I would need to marry someone of good breeding, a woman who was accustomed to being a housewife, who could have many children and a proper mother.”

    “But you didn’t.” She finished for him. He nodded slowly.

    “I refused to marry someone for the sake of being married. I did not want to be… complacent. I have given… everything of myself in being Jarl. I have fought for my country for numerous years, I stepped up to become Jarl after my sister died, I carried on my father’s values. But as much as my council has pressured me to marry, I have stood my ground. I wanted to marry someone I knew could be a true partner in this life and the next.”

    “Okay…” She said after he grew quiet, waiting for him to continue. He smiled softly at this woman so stubborn she refused to believe what he was telling her.

    “Theodora, you are the most compassionate and beautiful woman I have ever met, not to mention a cunning and ruthless warrior. You’re the most devoted and caring Thane I have ever seen, you care about your fellow brothers and sisters in arms, you are humble, and frankly you… you give me a reason to keep fighting this war.”

    “Theodora, I would like you to be my wife.”

Chapter 31

Theodora felt as if her entire body had gone numb, completely paralyzed, she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, as she sat across from the jarl and listened to his words. 

“Do you- What? You can’t truly think out of all the suitors out there I would be best fit to be- I mean, I am a soldier. I’ve done things.”

“So have I.” He said quickly, interrupting her spewing. She sighed and stood up from the table.

“If you want me to go to… Morthal, Falkreath, by Oblivion even Solitude I will. But I don’t want you to feel as if you have to give me false hope.” She sputtered, feeling her cheeks hot as the tears welled in her eyes. She started to walk away, to storm out of the jarl’s quarters, completely determined to never speak of this false proposal again.

“ Theodora , stop.” 

She felt her wrist grabbed as she was pulled back. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she grit her teeth and could not bear to face the jarl.

“Look at me, Theodora. Look at me.” He commanded softly. She rolled her eyes and forced herself to meet his gaze, his head cocked slightly at her as he moved his hand to her cheek once more. She always fell victim to his touch, the way he gently caressed her scar. A scar she had gotten in Helgen. 

“Theodora I want to marry you, I want the entire country to know you are mine. I want you by my side as the moot elects me high king and we bring Skyrim to glory, free of dictatorship from the elves. I want you to have my children, who no doubt will be the fiercest warriors in all of Tamriel. I want to go to sleep each night with you safe in my arms.”

She shook her head at him and wanted to argue, but the lump in her throat felt as if she couldn’t breathe let alone speak.

“Wait here.” he sighed at her as he let go and swiftly moved over to his nightstand. She quickly wiped the tears out of her eyes as he turned away from her, hoping he had not seen them leak out. She watched him grab something, what looked like a necklace, and walk back over to her. He took her hand in his and dropped the necklace into her palm. 

“I trust you know what this is. What it represents.” 

“An amulet of Mara.” She sighed. He wrapped her fingers around the circular amulet.

“Theodora, I am not playing politics with you. I am not deceiving you. You are the most wonderful woman I have ever met, and I would never forgive myself if I let you leave without telling you how I feel, telling you what I want . I want you to be my wife. I want to protect you.” He said softly as he held her closed fist in his hands.

“But if you do not feel the same. If… your heart belongs to another…”

“It doesn’t.” She said quickly, saying the words before realizing truly what they meant. 

“If you would like time… to think this over, I would understand.” He said after a moment. She swallowed the lump in her throat and shook her head, feeling the amulet in her fingers, feeling the jarl’s warmth on her, feeling… for the first time in a long time… safe. 

“I uhm, I don’t need time.”

He brushed her hair out of her face and sighed, she realized his hardened face had crumpled with sadness.

“I uhm, yes. I would… very much like to marry you.” She exhaled, letting the words flow without hesitation, she was tired of fighting herself. His face lightened as her eyes met his, and smug grin breaking across his face.

“Are you sure you do not wish to think this over? There are… factors to consider.” He sighed.

“Like having a new target on my back for being married to a jarl.” She raised her brow at him. He chuckled and nodded as he brushed his thumb against her cheek.

“Well, yes. And… other factors. I want you to understand what you’re agreeing to.” 

“Now it sounds like you’ve changed your mind.” She chuckled nervously. He quickly shook his head and furrowed his brow at her.

“No, not at all. There are just things we must discuss.” 

“Well then… let’s discuss.” She was confused by his hesitation. He cocked his head at her and smiled softly. She waited for him to tell her to have a seat, or leave so he could draw up some official documentation after discussing it with his council. But instead he gently pressed his lips to hers, his hand holding her face as he stroked her cheek. She waited for him to pull away but he kept her pressed close to him, kissing her deeper, she found it hard to catch her breath as she let him consume her. She waited, waited to see if they would be interrupted as he ran his hands over her body sending chills down her spine. But no one pounded on the door demanding the jarl’s attention. 

She knew she should pull away, demand to discuss the exact ‘terms’ of this ‘engagement’. But she had never felt such an intense… yearning. The thought of pulling away from the jarl’s touch was the last thing she wanted to do. She found herself kissing him back with intensity as his hand craned her head into his, the warmth of his breath against her lips as she tried to steady her own breathing. 

Almost effortlessly Ulfric wrapped his arms around her legs and swept her off her feet causing her to chuckle in surprise. She certainly never considered herself light, and any other man who tried to knock her off her feet would end up with a dagger in his throat. But as he gently set her down on the bed they had shared just hours before, so effortlessly as if she weighed nothing, she was driven mad with desire. She wanted nothing more than for him to rip off her clothes and fuck her, but she knew he was, as he put, “a gentleman”.

He leaned over her kissing her hungrily once more as his hands gently slid up her robes barely covering her body. She felt him hard pressed against her leg as he sprawled across her body, one arm pinned behind her head as his other hand pushed up her dress. She tried to steady her breathing as she waited, waited for him to pull himself out of his robes and fuck her, pounding her until he spilled his seed all over her stomach. But his hand pulled at the ties of her robes, he pushed himself back off her as he pulled the thin robes off her skin leaving her completely exposed. She wondered if he was staring at her scars, the imperfections of her bruised skin from the previous battle.

“You are even more beautiful than I imagined.” He said quietly as he ran his hands up her bare thighs and leaned down to kiss her chest. She stifled a scoff in disagreement as she leaned her head back and focused on her breathing. His breath sent shivers down her spine as he kissed hungrily at her chest, sucking on her nipples, small grunts erupting from his throat. She couldn’t help but crane her back to his touch, feeling herself pooling with lust. 

Ulfric slowly slid down as he kissed her navel, moving further down her body with each gentle kiss against her skin. Her eyes widened as she realized what the jarl was doing. He wasn’t just going to fuck her, he was going to make her see the gods. She tried to relax as he kissed her thighs sending chills up her spine. Before she could say anything she felt his tongue swirling inside of her.

“Oh gods .” She moaned as her legs trembled to the sensitivity. She heard Ulfric groan in satisfaction with making her squirm. But he did not slow down. He gripped her hips in his calloused hands and pulled her closer to him, keeping her body steady as he devoured her. She clenched her eyes shut as she tipped her head back and tried to steady her breathing, to keep the sensation going, but she felt her orgasm brewing after just a few moments. She had never felt the need to cum so quickly in her life. She was rather embarrassed as her body tensed and she gripped the fine linens beside her waist, bunching them in her fingers as she tried to keep quiet.

She grit her teeth to keep from crying out as her legs caved in with pleasure, she felt euphoric, as if she had just drank an entire bottle of the finest wine in all of Tamriel and consumed a dragon soul at the same time. No, this was much better than that. She felt rather embarrassed and hoped she had not been too loud.

She felt Ulfric exhale against her thigh as he kissed around her groin. She lay feeling too weak to move, as if she could fall into a deep sleep at that very moment, but she was not ready to sleep. Even though she had her moment seeing the gods, what she truly wanted was to feel the weight of a man, of this man on top of her. Writhing against her body with pleasure as he fucked her. She almost felt the need to ask ‘ when are you going to fuck me? ’ as Ulfric continued kissing every inch of her body. But as desperate as she was, she could not be so brazen with her desires. 

But she couldn’t resist gazing at Ulfric as he pulled off his robes. His chest was even more broad than she imagined, his muscles defined and covered in sand colored hair trailing down to his stomach. He had thin white lines dragged across his skin, reminding her of her own scars. She didn’t need to wonder where those had come from. Although he proclaimed he was much older than her, he had the muscular, broad body of a young soldier. Someone who could carry her up a mountain without even breaking a sweat. Someone who could kill for her. She hated how much that made her want him more.

She wanted to glance down, to see how truly magnificent the great Bear was, but she didn’t want to risk the embarrassment of being caught. Though he was staring intently at every inch of her . He leaned over her and kissed hungrily at her chest once more, each gentle swirl of his tongue against her nipple made her groin ache more and more.

“You are perfect Theodora.” He groaned into her skin as she felt him settle between her legs, his warm thighs pushing hers further apart as he leaned into her. She could feel him completely hard pressed against her opening, her body jolted at the sensitivity still coming down from her high. She felt his hand trail down between their bodies as she rest her head back against the bed and focused on her breathing, waiting, praying to the gods no one would knock on the door and deny her once more. 

Suddenly she felt him thrust inside of her. She let out a surprised yelp as her hands reflexively pushed his chest back. She wasn’t expecting… so much of him all at once. 

“Breathe… relax my love…let me fuck you…” He said quietly. She relaxed her legs against his hips as he slowly pushed deeper into her. A dark, animalistic grunt of pleasure emerged from his throat as he grabbed her thigh with his hand and held her legs around his back. 

“Mm fuck you are perfect.” He groaned into the crook of her neck as he quickened his pace and thrusted harder into her. She bit her lip to keep from crying out with each forceful thrust. She tightened her legs around him pulling him closer to her, feeling him deeper inside of her. His stomach was sweaty against hers, his breath hot on her neck as he kissed hungrily at her skin. Deep grunts of pleasure erupting from his throat as he thrusted into her. She could feel his body tensing, his back arching, his fingers gripping her thigh with one hand, his other arm gripping the headboard above her. She didn't want him to stop, but she could feel him ready to spill his seed as his moans became deeper. 

“Oh yes my love I am going to fill you.” He growled into her skin as he tightened his grip on her thigh and pushed harder against her, “ Fuck I’m going to fill you.”

She craned her back to feel him deeper in her, pressing her body against his as she let herself moan with pleasure at his words. His dark, sultry groans ringing in her ears, driving her insane with lust. She didn’t want it to end. Each time he called her ‘my love’ it made her weak with pleasure, mad with desire. She had never been so desired. 

Suddenly his body tensed, a deep sharp grunt emerged from his lips as he buried his face in her neck and let out an intense moan into her skin. She could feel him pulsing inside of her. She inhaled sharply in surprise. She couldn't believe he was actually spilling his seed in her, filling her, marking her. She knew she should push him away but instead she felt… well she felt rather mad with lust that he had released inside of her. It only made her want him more and more. Over and over.

After a moment she winced as she felt him pull himself out of her. She felt… messy down there. He rolled off her and onto the other side of the bed with a groan of exhaustion. She stifled a chuckle at how mature it made him sound. He propped his arm behind his head as he exhaled, she glanced over and caught him staring at her still. She sat up and tried to cover her exposed skin out of embarrassment.

“What?” She asked as he pulled her back down once more. Her cheeks reddening more and more even though they had just fucked. He brushed her hair out of her face with his hand and sighed.

“You are perfect, do you know that?”

She sighed and shook her head, “You’re delusional, do you know that?”

He chuckled and sat up with a groan, “I don’t think you can call your jarl delusional.”

“I must say that is not what I expected to ‘discuss’ with my jarl .” She exhaled after a moment as she sat up to grab her robes. He chuckled a booming laugh from beside her.

“Yes, well, I have wanted to discuss that for quite awhile.”

“And why didn’t you?”

He chuckled and shook his head, “There is a process to courtship Theodora.”

She snorted and gawked at him in surprise, “Oh you’ve been courting me?”

“Of course I’ve been courting you.” He furrowed his brow at her in confusion as he stood up from the bed and pulled on his robes, she glanced over and felt her cheeks flush as she caught sight of his exposed self, certainly covered in her exposed self. 

“Apologies, I’ve never been courted before.” 

“I find that hard to believe.” He said with a smug grin as he walked over and gestured towards the table, “Shall we discuss?”

She wanted to say something snide about how that went the last time he said they should discuss, but she felt a nervous pit in her stomach as he took a more serious tone. She nodded and walked over to the table, squirming slightly as she could still feel his seed, a strange sensation she had only experienced… once. 

“This engagement bears in itself… potential complications…” 

“Such as ?” She asked.

“Well, for starters, if it was announced you would be pulled from my arsenal.”

She exhaled and nodded, “Which means, longer war, more lives lost.”

“My generals would be… thoroughly upset if I pulled you.”

“And if you didn’t pull me?”

“Then you would become the number one target for the imperials.” He responded grimly. 

“I’m already a top target for the imperials.” She added. 

“You’re a target just as all my generals are, but if it were announced we were married, you would become a target for an entirely different reason. Tullius would not aim to simply kill you to aid his side, he would capture you and use you as collateral.” He explained. 

She sighed after a moment and rubbed her forehead, “So what exactly are we left with?”

“Well, I am suggesting we do not announce it.”

She furrowed her brow in confusion as a sinking feeling formed in her gut, “Keep it a secret.”

“For your safety… yes.”

“And for the war.”

He sighed at her in exhaustion, “Theodora your safety is my top priority.”

“I can handle myself.”

“Not if you’re captured, they would do anything to you to get intel. You cannot handle that.”

She exhaled in frustration and shook her head, growing quiet as she ran it through her mind. The jarl wanted to marry her . But he didn’t want to tell anyone. And she couldn’t tell anyone. She would still act as a mere soldier. Winning him a war without so much as the respect of being the jarl’s wife. Well, it wasn’t much different than what she was currently doing. 

“Can I ask why you are asking me now if you wish to keep it hidden? Wouldn’t it have been easier for you to wait?” She asked after a moment. He chuckled at her and shook his head.

“I considered it, but then I’d risk someone else interfering.”

Her stomach sunk as for the first time all morning she thought of Ralof. Oh Ralof. She was surprised, and completely confused, that the familiar dread did not overwhelm her after laying with the jarl. That had never happened before. She had never gotten out of bed with a man without feeling a crippling dread overtake her, guilting her. 

“Does this change your answer?” He asked after she realized she had grown quite grim with silence. She quickly shook off any thoughts of Ralof, a man who most certainly was dead, who she swore would no longer cross her mind now that she had… well she had an engagement. Not some silly fantasy. 

“No. It does not.” 

“Good.”

A knock at the door jolted Theodora back, making her truly realize what she had just agreed to. She cleared her throat and bit her cheek to keep the blushing smile suppressed as the jarl… as Ulfric (she would have to get familiar with calling him by his name if she were going to be… his wife), strode by her to his door. She craned her neck to hear who it was out of curiosity.

“Council is ready for you when you are my lord.”

She nodded slightly, it was Jorleif. 

“Thank you, I will be right down.” Ulfric cleared his throat and closed the door. She sighed and waited, that was her sign to leave. Theodora pushed herself up from the chair and flattened out her robes, they weren’t tied entirely correctly but she knew she would just be darting to her quarters. But she tried to fix her image as much as possible. She was, after all, officially living a double life. 

Ulfric pulled her in and brushed the hair out of her face, smiling intently down at her as he held her cheek in his grasp, “You’ve no idea how pleased I am that you’ve agreed to be my wife Theodora. I promise when this war is over, I will give you the life you deserve.” 

He pulled the amulet of Mara out of his pocket and placed it in her palm, closing her fingers around it once more. It was hers. Something she never thought she would own. She sighed and smiled softly, her body relaxing under his grasp once more. She felt calm. She felt safe. And for the first time, she felt wanted.

Chapter 32

The warm fluttering feeling in her stomach began to fade after Theodora spent days and days by herself. The troops were still in Whiterun, the jarl had resumed his role as commander and ignoring his soldiers (including her), and she was beginning to convince herself it had all been a dream; that she had never laid with the jarl and he certainly had not asked for her hand in marriage. Except of course each night when she returned to her quarters she would dig through her locked chest until she found the amulet of Mara. Holding it in her grasp made it feel real once more; she’d go to bed and pleasure herself over and over to the memory of the jarl spilling his seed inside of her, marking her, calling her his love. And then the next day she would wait, hoping the jarl would send for her to have dinner in his private quarters, but she would eat with the young soldiers in the grand hall while Ulfric ignored her existence entirely. 

It had been over a couple weeks since she returned from Whiterun and she was beginning to miss Lydia dearly. She had half a mind to take Raven back to Whiterun just to make sure she was alright. Though she had received a scroll from her devoted housecarl checking in a few days prior.

My thane,

Orders are to wait. Need to make sure a red storm does not sweep in. I hope you are well. I’ve been told you made it back home. Keep the gods my thane. I will try to as well, gods know I need them to keep my sanity among these men. I look forward to seeing you again my thane. Be safe, be well, and keep out of trouble. 

-Lyd

Theodora desperately wanted to write back, to plead for her friend to come back to Windhelm, but she much preferred Lydia be in the safe company of the rest of the soldiers. She didn’t want Lydia to risk traveling alone back to Windhelm. But she missed her friend dearly. They had hardly been apart in the year they had been together as thane and housecarl, except for Theodroa’s stint in Sovngarde. She wished to share mead with her friend and hear all about her antics in Whiterun, if she had been antagonizing the soldiers, or even more so lying with the soldiers. 

And quite honestly, Theodora was desperate to speak with her most trusted friend about her news. Though she wasn’t quite sure if she was even allowed to speak of it to Lydia. Then again, the jarl had not deigned to speak to his ‘betrothed’ in over a week; perhaps he had changed his mind. And Lydia was sworn by law under the gods to keep her Thane's secrets. 

Theodora found herself spending quite a bit of time with one of the other generals, general Aelta, who was by far the tallest nord woman Theodora had ever met. Her hair chopped short and the color of ice, her face always stern and sour, and she always dawned the Stormcloak general uniform of steel with a bear skin cloak. All the other soldiers were vastly intimidated by Aelta, and frankly by Theodora, so they often found themselves together. 

“No no no ! You need to keep your eyes up Til, not on the ground!” Theodora groaned to one of the newest recruits, a young curly haired ginger girl Tilith(who frankly looked to be Polk’s younger sister if it weren’t for the strikingly different accent of speech), who could barely fit in the smallest Stormcloak uniform. Til whipped around and threw her sword down in defeat. Her cheeks matching the color of her curls as she whined in frustration.

“How am I supposed to keep my eyes up when I need to see where I’m stepping? ” She huffed at Theodora.

“You keep your eyes on your enemy, the second you look away you can expect a dagger across your throat.” Aelta jumped in harshly. 

“I was going to say keep your eyes on your sparring partner so they don’t take a swing at you but sure, if we’re going to be literal.” Theodora nodded. Tilith grumbled something under her breath as she leaned down and grabbed her discarded wooden sword, resuming sparring with Ysma who had grown even more smug with each day of training that passed.

“She’s going to be killed at the first sign of battle.” Aelta grumbled from beside Theodora as they stood on the edge of the sparring square. Snow was caking all of the soldiers in the courtyard but they needed to train while it was still daylight. 

“I have faith in her. She may be young but she’s got the fire of a seasoned soldier.” Theodora said back. Aelta grimaced at her.

“ Attitude does not make a soldier, strength makes a soldier.”  

“Well I started out with only having one of those, and it certainly wasn’t strength.” 

“Well, not everyone is blessed with the blood of a dragon now are we? Don’t coddle that girl or it’ll be her blood on your hands.” Aelta said bitterly. Theodora rolled her eyes at her stubborn general and turned her attention back to the sparring girls. It reminded Theodora of her initial training. Ysma was more… arrogant. Til struggled and kept letting her frustrations get the best of her. Theodora could see the tears of frustration in the poor girl’s eyes. She wanted to tell her to take a break, rest, but unfortunately the harsh Aelta was right. There were no breaks in war. 

She glanced over and felt a sigh of relief as she watched Polk draw his bow without so much as shaking his arm, after a second he released the arrow and it landed in the outer ring. He certainly was getting closer.  Though the waiting was starting to drive Theodora to lonely madness, she was grateful for each day that passed where they were not sent to war, giving extra time for Polk to sink an arrow in the target, or Ysma to not let her arrogance get the best of her, or for Til to find her strength. But she knew the day would come soon where all these young soldiers would no longer have innocence, some of them would return with the haunting memory of their first kill, and some of them would never return at all. 

As she watched these young kids spar and shoot arrows, she couldn’t help but feel haunted by the fact that none of these kids truly should be here. They should be running around in their homes, tending to their chores, studying their school materials in preparation for learning how to read more advanced writings or sign their names. They should be shadowing their parents, learning the trade of merchants or fishermen or huntsmen, preparing for their own lives as caretakers, husbands, wives, fathers, mothers, or whatever they damn please. 

And the words rang in her ears over and over. I want you to have my children, who no doubt will be the fiercest warriors in all of Tamriel . The thought of bringing a child into the world just to train for war made her sick. And the thought of producing another dragonborn made her even more sick. 

“Suppose we should call it for a day, the rest of the lot have already filed in for food. Weak.” Aelta shook her head bringing Theodora away from her grim thoughts and back to the snow covered courtyard. 

“Go get rest and food, we’ll pick up tomorrow.” Theodora called to the young soldiers who didn’t need to be told twice; they all hung up their respective weapons and filed inside.

“I believe that applies to you as well, dragonborn.” Aelta grumbled as Theodora stood in place staring at the empty courtyard. She nodded but did not move.

“Go on, I’ll be in.” Theodora lied. Aelta furrowed her thin blonde brow but did not argue, she marched out of the courtyard leaving Theodora alone, once more. She sighed and let the snow fall down on her hair and shoulders. If she went into that grand hall she’d have to avoid glancing at the jarl, at Ulfric , while engaging in mindless chit chat with the other soldiers just to avoid endlessly discussing the war. And that itself was more exhausting than anything. 

She walked over and sat on a bench blanketed in snow. She didn’t care about getting her armor wet, she’d take a warm bath just as she did every night, then wash her armor and hang it by the fire to dry. Sometimes she would have to sew the various rips, and often she welcomed it as a distraction from her thoughts. If she was focused on washing, or sewing, she wasn’t thinking about her potential impending marriage. 

Though she wasn’t entirely convinced it was still happening. The last time the jarl glanced in her direction he did not even linger as their eyes met, he merely frowned and turned away. Perhaps it was all silly to think she could ever be the jarl’s wife. Not to mention she was reminded frequently that this jarl in particular was in line to be the next high king; meaning she would be high queen. Impractical, ridiculous, foolish, absurd. She could not be queen. She was.. Well she was a peasant. She was the daughter of a drunken fisherman. A lowlife. 

She exhaled deeply and accepted it. The jarl had clearly changed his mind and he did not feel the need to let her know. She was just a soldier after all, and he was the jarl . He got what he wanted. 

Perhaps that’s what killed her the most. She had laid with him. Not just that, it was the best sex of her life. She couldn’t bear to admit she had pleasured herself to the memory of it every night since, replaying in her thoughts the sound of Ulfric releasing into her… it drove her insane with lust. She had left the jarl’s private quarters without feeling that sinking, gnawing sensation of dread deep in her stomach, wishing she had been with Ralof instead. Quite honestly, she had been so consumed by the jarl, by Ulfric, that she had not even thought of Ralof. 

Was she now stuck with being haunted by Ulfric? Instead of yearning for Ralof after every lover she took she would be fantasizing of the jarl? She’d be kicking herself for what she almost had? She felt pathetic. She was the dragonborn! She had taken down Alduin herself, not with the help of a man. She didn’t need a husband. 

So why did she feel so empty now that the prospect of marriage had fallen from her grasp?

“You’re going to freeze to death out here.”

Theodora nearly jumped off the bench at the sudden sound of someone else in the courtyard. But she didn’t need to turn to see who it was. It was the same chilling voice that always sent shivers across her skin, even when she was already freezing. She wasn’t quite sure how long it had been since the rest of the soldiers went inside, but the night had taken over, the courtyard almost completely dark with only a few sconces lit. 

She heard him walk over and exhale as he drew closer, “Why are you out here?”

She kept her eyes on the snow falling in front of her, the flakes large and trickling down, some catching on her eyelashes or nose and quickly melting away.

“Just like the quiet I s’pose.” She said after a moment. 

“Not rethinking anything are you?” He chuckled softly from beside her. She furrowed her brow in confusion but kept her gaze ahead of her.

“Are you? ”

He sighed and she saw from the corner of her eye he drew closer to her, sitting down on the bench next to her with a small exhale of exhaustion. She hated how much she welcomed his warmth against her, how much the smell of his skin made her weak and desperate for his touch. A couple weeks had felt truly like a month since they were last together. 

“No, I certainly am not reconsidering.” He spoke quietly. She also hated how much that put her at ease as she finally let herself glance over at him. He looked the same of course, his icy blue eyes still piercing through the evening sky, his straw colored hair intricately braided out of his face, his beard neatly trimmed. His nose was red from the cold air as snowflakes fell around his hair and onto his bear skin cloak. 

“I know I have… neglected you these past weeks. But there have been developments.”

She frowned and tensed, “Whiterun?”

“No no, all is well there. In fact your trusted housecarl should be back in the morning. Vignar is settling in quite well as Jarl according to Galmar.” Ulfric said quickly to ease her worries. 

“Yes, Vignar is quite the devoted nord. I can imagine he is falling into his stride as Jarl.” She sighed in relief. Lydia would be back tomorrow, she could relax again. Ulfric chuckled beside her.

“What?” She asked, his face colored with amusement.

“I forget sometimes, you have experience with other holds, other Jarls.”

“Different kind of experience.” She chuckled. 

“I would certainly hope so.” He smirked at her. She sighed and looked away as she felt her cheeks redden in embarrassment. She didn’t want to give in to temptation too quickly, after all she had spent the weeks slowly spiraling, but she didn’t want to freeze him out too soon. 

“I came to find you to see if you would like to have dinner with me. I must admit I have missed your company these past weeks.” He said growing more quiet towards the end. She nodded and smiled softly.

“Yes, I’d like that.”

“Good.” He said abruptly before standing up. She went to do the same but noticed he had extended his arm to her, similar to how he had done the first couple times they had dinner. She sighed and shook her head with a chuckle as she wrapped her arm around his, this time it felt much more…. Normal. Like her arm fit in the crook of his perfectly. 

Ah fuck, I can’t stay mad for very long can I?

Chapter 33

She broke away from his grasp as they entered the grand hall, his eyes meeting hers as if to say I’m sorry . But she knew if he really wanted to, they would not keep their engagement a secret. He was the jarl after all. And more importantly, she was the dragonborn. She had defended herself against the thalmor, countless bandits, drunken soldiers, Alduin, and Tullius himself! She could absolutely manage some imperials trying to get a hold of her for intel. And even if they did capture her, she was more than confident she could get herself out of trouble. She had learned many words in her dragon tongue over the last year, many of which could take down a fleet, let alone a few thieving imperials. Perhaps she would make her case… 

“You grind your teeth when you’re deep in thought you know that don’t you?”

She whipped her head up at Ulfric as they walked through the private corridor, a smug grin across his face as he glanced over to her. She immediately unclenched her jaw and shook her head.

“And what exactly is plaguing you?” He asked after a moment. She sighed and gave him a look as if to say well I can’t exactly talk about it now can I . He nodded and kept his stride through the private corridor, passing the posted guards who all just nodded politely and stepped out of the way of their jarl. He pushed open the heavy door to his private quarters and stepped inside, holding the door for her as he gestured for her to enter. 

The fire was crackling with life, warming the entire room and immediately unthawing her. She then realized…

“Oh uhm, I should-”

“Change? Again, you are more than welcome to use my bathing quarters and I will get you some fresh clothes.” He finished smugly as he nodded towards the bathing room. She rolled her eyes as his back turned away at his arrogance, but was grateful nevertheless. Her skin felt completely frozen to her armor after spending all day outside. He walked over and grabbed a pair of neatly folded robes, handing them to her which she took quickly and disappeared in the bathing room.

She quickly undressed as soon as the door closed behind her and she chuckled as she saw the bath already drawn for her. She couldn’t decide if the jarl, if Ulfric , was thoughtful, or just an arrogant brute. Perhaps both. 

She eased into the steaming tub as her skin burned red from the change in temperature. She quickly dunked her head under and scrubbed all the snow and bits of ice out of her hair. She tried to bathe quickly as she collected her thoughts. Or rather, tried to assess if she was pissed at the jarl, at Ulfric, or just confused. Shall I expect you to continue ignoring my existence until the mood strikes you once every couple of weeks? Would you prefer to just send me away to a camp until the war is over? She sighed and knew he would’ve done that already if he truly wanted to. Or perhaps that was the ‘development’ he wanted to discuss… 

She quickly scrubbed her frozen skin until raw and then dried herself off. She was realizing how starving she was yet again. She pulled the perfectly fitting robes on and brushed through her hair before taking one last deep breath. Don’t overthink it. You always overthink it.

She pushed open the door and sheepishly stepped out, but Ulfric was not in the room. She furrowed her brow as she crossed her arms and peered around the room, though a man of his size could not exactly hide. She slowly crept over to the lines of bookshelves she had seen, but not yet gazed upon. Many leather bound books, many historical, some… poetry. She was shocked by this. She wondered how much Ulfric read in his spare time. Her eyes focused on a book she recognized. A black book detailing the legend of the dragonborn. 

The door whipped open as she nearly jumped back in surprise. She glanced over and Ulfric quickly closed the door behind him. He looked just as surprised to see her standing in his room, as if he had not invited her. 

“Apologies, I had to grab something from my study.”

She nodded and stepped away from the books, although she was curious to flip through and see which ones were more used than others. Frankly she knew very little of the man who had asked her to be his wife. Did he enjoy poetry? Or did he merely read war strategies in order to further his cause? Did he read upon the legend of the dragonborn and that is why he is ‘courting’ her? 

She expected him to gesture towards the table but instead he walked over beside her, standing so close she was once again drawn to his intoxicating scent. She hoped, since she had just taken a bath, she smelt more pleasant to him than other women. 

“Do you read much?” He asked, nodding towards the books. She chuckled and shrugged.

“Not so much anymore. Lydia and I have assembled quite the collection over the past year though, I like to pick up books in various bandit lairs we clear out.” 

“Anything interesting?”

“Well,” She smirked, “Once I did find a book titled, the crimes of Ulfric Stormcloak.”

Ulfric chuckled and shook his head as he walked over to the far bookshelf, scanning the various leatherbacks until he pulled out a light brown book, handing it to her.

“This one?”

She chuckled as she took the book detailing the ‘war crimes’ and ‘heinous acts’ Ulfric has committed. Written by some academic who no doubt has never seen the sight of battle. Or he would be a little more… understanding. 

“He lives in Windhelm, you know.” Ulfric said gesturing with the book, “Personally, I think he’s a tad dramatic and perhaps stretches the truth a little. But what else are academics for?”

“But essentially most of it is true?” She asked. He frowned at her but did not argue.

“Most of it is taken out of context.” He said sternly. “I did not blindly order the execution of innocent civilians as this man suggests.”

“This is true, you are not Tullius.” She said grimly. 

“Yes well, perhaps someone will detail a book on the crimes of Frond Tullius.”

She glanced over at him and chuckled, “Tullius’s name is Frond ?”

“Why do you think he goes by Tullius? You must understand that, you’ve forgone your family name entirely.” 

“Well it’s the name of a drunken fisherman, I don’t exactly miss it.” She said. 

“I think Stormcloak suits you much better.” He added with a smug grin. She felt her cheeks flush as she chuckled and nodded.

“Speaking of which, I got you something.” He cleared his throat and she glanced over to see him pull a small cloth bag out of his robe pocket, no bigger than the size of his palm. He held it out to her and she took it, feeling the soft velvet in her hands as she untied the top and poured the contents into her hand. It was a silver ring, with a small row of flawless sapphires, strikingly blue that glistened in the dim light of the room. 

“I had it made for you. Sapphires, nothing extravagant and certainly not the only ring I will get you, but I felt it was the least I could do.” He said as he took it out of her hand. He gently held her left hand in his grasp as he slipped the ring onto her finger. It, of course, fit her perfectly. She turned her hand slightly to catch the glistening jewels in the dim light, admiring its beauty. It certainly was the most extravagant piece of jewelry she had ever seen, let alone owned.

“Well, I certainly have never been given a piece of jewelry. It’s uhm, it’s wonderful thank you.” She said sheepishly as she felt the jewels between her fingers, “But doesn’t this defeat the purpose of keeping it a secret?

“Ah there is a simple trick.” He chuckled as he slid the ring back off her finger and grabbed her other hand, sliding it on her right hand ring finger. She chuckled and rolled her eyes.

“I suppose that works as well.” 

“Besides, this is not your marriage ring. This is merely a placeholder.”

She sighed as she admired the ring on her finger. A placeholder. A secret. 

“You said you had developments to discuss?” She asked after a moment, shaking off her feelings of dread. He nodded and gestured towards the table.

“Eat, the war is not going anywhere.” He commanded. She rolled her eyes once again at his arrogance but felt more amused than annoyed at his demanding nature. She sat down in the chair he had pulled out for her and breathed in the scent of…. Well she didn’t quite know what it was.

“I hope you are not sick of fish. The slaughterfish have been rather abundant lately.” Ulfric said as he lifted the lid off her trey. 

“No, quite surprisingly I can never get sick of slaughterfish.” She said, her stomach growling at the delectable sight of honey glazed fish next to cubed roasted potatoes, “And it’s that time of year, slaughterfish are in their mating season, swarming the colder water to lay eggs.”

He furrowed his brow at her and then nodded, “So you also have fisherman knowledge?”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, “Barely. I was not allowed to do anything on the docks other than clean up fish guts…. Sorry it's not the best dinner conversation.”

“You and I have seen the horrors of war, I think fish guts is a tad mild. So you worked with your father then?” He chuckled as he poured them both glasses of wine.

“Oh yes, after all my father didn’t have to pay his children. But most of the time Val stayed with him, and I was sent home to clean and cook.”

He cocked his head at her, “Val?”

She set her fork down and winced at her slip, it had come out so effortlessly as if she were a child again, “Valkin. My brother.”

“Did you have a good relationship with your brother?”

She paused but shook her head, “Not particularly. We were very different. He was my parents' favorite. I was… less than favorable.”

He laughed and sipped his wine, “Yes I know that all too well.”

She cocked her head at him, “What, you were not your parents’ favorite? You ?”

He smiled softly at her, “I was not born first. I was merely… a backup. And, similar to you I can imagine, I did not keep my thoughts to myself. I was a liability to my parents. Too…. rebellious if you will.”

She chuckled and swallowed a bite of fish, imagining Ulfric’s parents giving him the same lecture her parents always gave: you’ll wind up in a dungeon if you keep mouthing off, no one likes a loose lipped fool . 

“Have you been to Falkreath often?” He asked after a moment. She nodded and rolled her eyes at the memory of the arrogant, and ever so narcissistic jarl Siddgeir.

“Quite a few times, for bounties.”

“So you are familiar with the area?” He pressed. She nodded as she stared down at her nearly empty bowl of stew, she sighed as she sunk back in her chair and realized why he was asking.

“Falkreath is the next move?” She asked. He nodded slowly.

“Soon. The men need rest. You need rest.” He pointed out, she shook her head and opened her mouth to argue but he continued on, “Regardless, I am waiting for reinforcements from Markarth. And once Galmar is back and can give me numbers… well frankly it all depends on what the scouts are reporting.”

“Siddgeir is too focused on himself rather than the war at least, that will work in our favor.” 

Ulfric chuckled at her brazenness and nodded, “That is what I’ve heard, yes. And as fate would have it I no longer have to worry about imperial reinforcements from Helgen.”

“No… and from what I can tell there aren’t many imperial camps in the area. Most of them hover towards Markarth.”

“What about bandit clans, any ones worth concern?” He asked as he refilled her goblet of wine, as if he were schmoozing her into continuing giving up intel. As if she had any reason to withhold information. She clicked her tongue and recounted the bounties she and Lydia collected near Falkreath.

“There were some in that old fort… oh but I can’t remember the name…”

“Fort Neugrad.” Ulfric finished. 

“Yes…” She nodded, “But that was… quite a few months ago Lydia and I cleared out that fort.”

“So you’re familiar with the layout?” Ulfric’s attention perked as he leaned forward. 

“Sort of, from what I can remember… a lot of the forts blur together.” She answered, “Why?”

“Well Fort Neugrad is Tullius’s most recent hideout. I already have men scouting the area. Their numbers are weak, from what I hear. I think it should be rather easy for you to clear out.” He explained matter-of-factly. She shifted in her seat, uncomfortable at his statement. No question to it, just a command. She would be going to this fort and she would be clearing it out for him. This was, after all, what she signed up for. She nodded slowly and accepted her mission, the jarl was still the jarl after all, he was her commander. She felt the ring on her right hand, pressing the jewels hard into her thumb. Suddenly it felt more like a branding than a gift. 

“You’re doing it again.” He said as he cocked his head at her, his eyes flickering with amusement. She rolled her eyes and blushed as she realized she was grinding her teeth once more.

“You have worries?” He prodded. She shook her head, semi truthfully.

“I am just trying to remember the last time Lydia and I visited Falkreath.” She lied. 

“You are not reconsidering that ring you keep fiddling with?” He asked glancing down at her hands and then back at her, his face stern. She felt herself scoffing and quickly shaking her head in disagreement. 

“No, of course not.” She sighed and pulled her fingers away from the ring, leaving it tucked far down on her ring finger, on her wrong hand of course. 

“I know I am asking the world of you Theodora, and I hope you can be patient.” He sighed at her. She furrowed her brow as she studied the man across from her. The man who was asking her to be his wife. The esteemed jarl of Windhelm. The Great Bear of Markarth. The future high king of Skyrim. Ulfric Stormcloak, the leader of the rebellion. The man had more titles than she had years on her. No matter how many times she repeated it in her mind Jarl Ulfric has asked me to marry him , she couldn’t believe it. She could not wrap her mind around this great man sitting before her, asking her to be his bride, his future queen. 

And even more so, she couldn’t believe this man seemed to genuinely care about her. If he was so stuck on keeping their affair a secret, he must truly want her safety. But she couldn’t settle for that fact, she felt as if there was more he was not telling her. 

She sighed after a moment and smiled softly, “Can I at least tell Lydia?”

He chuckled at her, surprised by her words, clearly expecting her to change her mind and hand over the ring. He nodded softly.

“I suppose it would only be fair. I have consulted in Galmar.”

She relaxed instantly as she knew she would feel better upon discussing the news with her dearest friend. She just hoped, for her own sake, that Lydia wouldn’t call her a blind fool. Perhaps she was a blind fool, but she could never get sick of the way the jarl gazed at her, as if she were the most prized jewel in all of Tamriel. No one had ever looked at her that way before, and frankly, she knew she could get used to it. 

Chapter 34

Notes:

Warning... a lot of smut

After another glass of wine and talks of Falkreath, her eyes began to flutter heavily as she tried to remember all the details he spoke. Stormcloak camp near Helgen hidden behind a snowy mountain, the general there is Iron-Fist, or something along those lines. Galmar will be taking over as general however, and apparently there is a young soldier easily coming up the ranks who will be commanding the siege as Galmar stays in command at the camp. Theodora didn’t care frankly who was in charge, as long as she and Lydia were left to their own devices, which Ulfric assured her they would as long as they did not grossly disobey orders. 

“You need rest. I know you have been very busy training the young troops. I have kept you long enough.” Ulfric sighed after she rubbed her eyes hoping to wake herself up. She stifled a frown as disappointment burrowed in her stomach, she truly was exhausted, and the wine was making her feel ethereal, but she didn’t want to leave. She knew once she did, it may be weeks before she was alone with him again. Or worse, she could go to Falkreath and never return. She had never felt this… intense yearning before. The thought of going to her room alone, and falling asleep alone, made her stomach drop like she had just received devastating news. She hadn’t felt this way… well since Ralof told her he was leaving for Windhelm. 

Ulfric pushed himself up from the table nearly causing her to jump as she grew lost in thought. She shook off any visible feeling of dread as she did not want to overstay her welcome, but that’s really all she wanted to do. He walked over and extended his arm to her which she took quickly, grateful he pulled her out of her chair and steadied her as the wine breezed through her veins and made her head fuzzy. And she felt even more fuzzy as she looked up and saw him staring at her intently, his eyes shimmering in the candlelight. She was always surprised how softened his face was when they were alone together, nothing compared to the hardened jarl that bellowed orders at his generals and threatened to storm the gates of Solitude himself if they didn’t get their shit together. 

“Would you like me to let you get some rest?” Ulfric asked after a moment passed. Theodora felt her stomach drop in disappointment as she quickly shook her head.

“No, but I understand if you are tired.”

Ulfric scoffed softly, “Please, it is rare I have any moments with you. I want to cherish them while I can.”

Her face flushed with embarrassment as she broke her gaze from his and tried to grit away the intense blushing in her cheeks. She hated how the smallest of sentences uttered by his rich velvety voice would put her in a fit. And the luscious wine was only making it worse.

“Do I fluster you, Dragonborn ?” He practically purred with amusement. She groaned as she chewed her lip and stared at the immaculate man standing before her, his hand pressed gently against her cheek as he brushed her hair out of her face. 

“You’ve no idea.” She let the words slip out of her mouth. He leaned down and gently pressed his lips to hers, she found herself hungrily kissing him back, realizing just how much she missed him. She felt pathetic, completely swooning over a man who hadn’t given her any attention for weeks, but the second he calls for her with his rich, velvety voice, she falls to her knees. Well, not literally. Though she had to admit she was rather… enticed by the thought of getting on her knees for the jarl. Making him squirm with pleasure like he did to her. Controlling the most powerful man in all of Skyrim’s orgasm with her mouth. But she could never initiate that. As much as she wanted to. 

She relaxed under his touch as he gently peeled off her clothing. She still flushed with embarrassment as he pulled her dress off her and stared at her bare body, but the wine helped ease her nerves. 

“Dare I say you are even more perfect tonight.” Ulfric groaned between hungry kisses. She bit her tongue to keep from scoffing in disagreement, mostly because it drove her mad when he spoke of her in such a way. She didn’t believe him per se, but it was euphoric to hear him worship her. He pulled her into his arms as he lifted her from the ground and swept her to his bed once more. She watched as he peeled off his armor and his robes, letting them fall swiftly to the ground as he leaned over her. She allowed herself to glance down at him , already fully erect, rubbing slightly against her leg as he kissed at her chest. He truly was a great man in all forms. She felt his hand trail down to her thighs, gently brushing his fingertips against her skin sending shivers all across her body. 

“It pains me to not have you every day. Every night I wish to make love to you.” He groaned into her chest as his hand slid between her thighs and rubbed against her opening. She felt her head spinning from the wine.

“I am yours. You can have me whenever.” She found the words leaping from her thoughts out of her mouth. She immediately felt embarrassed, but exhilarated that she had spoken her desires. If only she could bring herself to beg him to fuck her. He chuckled softly into her skin, a dark lustful chuckle. 

“You are mine.” He repeated softly, speaking the words into existence as if to truly validate their secret affair, “And I cannot keep away from you any longer.”

“So don’t.” She breathed softly as he slowly pushed his fingers further into her opening, circling in her wetness. She inhaled sharply as he pulled his hand away, denying her the pleasure of seeing the gods. But she, quite frankly, knew she would make herself see the gods when she went to bed alone that night. She more wanted to feel him thrusting inside of her, feeling his seed spilling, his muscles tensing as he caved around her with pleasure. She wanted him . 

He propped himself up on his elbow behind her head, gently laying his weight across her as he craned his hand to brush her hair gently out of her face. He kissed her hungrily, his teeth brushing against her lip as he grunted with desire. She couldn’t move under his weight on top of her, but she didn’t mind, she tightened her thighs around him to pull him closer and gently pressed her palms against the muscles on his back. His skin was soft and warm against her hands, she traced her fingers against the lines of his shoulder blades as he kissed her more intently. 

He moved his arm down as his breath lingered on hers, she felt him gently stroking himself against her leg as he kissed at her chin. She relaxed her legs and steadied her breathing as she waited, desperately waited. 

This time, he slowly pushed inside of her with a deep grunt of pleasure, and she couldn’t help but let out a small moan of satisfaction. There was no rush, this time he seemed to be taking his time. As if he also was trying to relish the small moments they had together before they had to return to what they truly were: nothing more than jarl and a soldier. But she shook off that thought and clenched her eyes shut, trying to focus on this man, her betrothed , fucking her all night. 

He steadied his pace as he began to thrust faster into her. She bit her lip to keep from moaning aloud as he ran his thumb across her neck, his palm pressed against her throat as he kissed her jawline. Normally when a man dared go near her throat, threatening to overpower her, she’d shove his arm away. But with the jarl.. With Ulfric , she felt… completely in his control. And she felt like she could relinquish her worries.

He grabbed her arm and pinned it behind her head as he thrusted harder into her, she pulled away slightly instinctively but relaxed her arm under his, letting his fingers intertwine in hers as he groaned into her neck. She could feel him tensing as his grip around her hand grew tighter, his grunts growing deeper. She wrapped her legs around him and arched her back, wanting him for as long as she could. But within moments his weight caved onto hers, his face burrowing into her neck as he grunted deep with pleasure, thrusting one last time against her hips as he released inside of her. 

She scrunched her face as he slowly pulled himself out of her, she could feel her thighs and groin caked in evidence of their lovemaking. He fell next to her, exhaling deeply as he laid on his back. After a moment of simply listening to his breathing, she reached over to grab her robes, assuming this was her cue to leave. They had consummated their engagement once more, they had discussed the steps in the war, she only assumed he was done with her. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” 

She cocked her head at him in surprise as she held her robes bunched in her lap.

“Back to my private quarters?” She posed in confusion. Ulfric shook his head and pulled her back towards him. She fell back on the bed with a surprised chuckle as he leaned his warm chest over hers.

“Stay with me tonight my love.” He said quietly as he kissed her neck once more, his lips trailing gently along her jaw. She didn’t need to be told twice. But she pushed him back slightly as she slid out from under him.

“For someone wanting to keep me a secret you’re being awfully daring you know.” She chuckled over her shoulder as she crept across the room toward the bathing quarters. She slowly closed the door behind her and paused before the mirror, staring at her bare body and admiring the small red and purple splotches across her chest and neck. Ulfric truly had marked her. 

She cleaned herself up after expelling the copious amounts of wine she had enjoyed, hoping he could not hear her. She wiped away the remainder of him inside of her, still in shock he was daring enough to spill his seed in her, twice. She knew there were certain… tonics and potions that could expel an undesired babe, and she was grateful her body seemed to be less than fertile. Perhaps it was her dragonborn blood, she wasn’t meant to have a babe. 

She crept back towards the bed where Ulfric was waiting with his arm propped behind his head, he watched her every move as she slid back onto the mattress and reached for the linens to cover herself, but he pulled them away. He slid towards the middle of the bed, she wasn’t sure what he was doing. 

“Come here.” He said as he pulled her towards him. Her entire body flushed as she let him position her, her back was pressed against his chest, she could feel his groin pressed against her tailbone as he wrapped his arm around her stomach and held her close. She relaxed under his grip as he kissed her shoulder, moving his lips up towards her neck, his hand groping at her chest as she could feel him growing hard pressing into her back. 

“What are you doing?” She sighed as she felt his hand trailing down her navel towards her groin.

“Shh, just relax.” He whispered into her ear, his deep husky voice sending chills down her spine. She closed her eyes and focused on the feeling of his breath against her neck, the warmth of his lips against her skin, the gentle caress of his fingers across her thigh as his other arm still wrapped around her ribs pinning her to him. 

She tensed slightly as his finger slid towards her opening, circling in the pool of wetness just from his recent touch and feeling him hard against her. Knowing he wanted her was more exhilarating than anything. She gripped the linens beside her as he began to circle her clit with his middle finger. His pace was almost painfully slow as she tensed under his touch. She bit her lip as she tried to stifle her small moans of pleasure breaking through her heavy breaths as he began to hit all the right spots. He groaned into her skin as she couldn’t resist moving her hips into his touch.

“I want to hear you.” He commanded into her ear as she felt her orgasm brewing. She groaned as she craned her head back and clenched her eyes shut, trying to focus on her breathing, and not the fact that she was seconds away from releasing.

“Others will hear .” She whispered.

“You are mine, I want to hear you cum for me.” He groaned as his grip tightened around her chest, his hand grabbing at her breast as he hungrily kissed her neck. She gripped the sheets and squirmed under his touch. She felt close as her breath quickened, her legs tensing. She let small moans erupt from her lips, giving in to his command, letting her guard down slightly. He grunted with pleasure with each small whimper that broke through her clenched jaw. Her legs jerked under the sensitivity as she drew closer, feeling her release building, each circle of her clit bringing her closer. Within seconds her back arched against his chest as she let herself release a moan of pleasure, her legs closing around his hand as her orgasm shook her entire body. She could feel her groin pulsing, her skin grew cold, the rush leaving her head as she fell back onto his chest gently. She waited for him to release her, but he slid his hand further down and slowly pushed his two middle fingers inside of her, his palm gently touching her still sensitive clit as she jerked at the sensation. She squirmed under his touch as she pulled away slightly but he held her close with his arm, she wasn’t able to move. 

“Fuck my love, you are perfect. I am going to make you feel like the goddess you truly are.” He growled into her ear. He thrusted his fingers inside of her as she gripped the sheet harder, her body still weak from her release. She let out moans of surprise as he continued to thrust his fingers inside of her, growling with pleasure into her neck. She had never been… touched in such a way before, especially after he had already released. She didn’t expect him to be so… hungry. 

A small chuckle erupted from her throat as she pulled away from him as he pulled his soaking fingers out of her and began to circle her clit once more, she was still too sensitive. Her body was completely weak to the feeling. Her muscles quivering under the sensation. Her hand gripped his thigh as her body reflexively pushed away from the sensitivity, but it only seemed to arouse him more. He pulled her down and continued to circle her clit as she felt whimpers escaping her lips, her legs shaking around his touch. His growls into her skin, his dark groans of pleasure as she quivered around his touch only made her closer and closer to releasing again. 

Her body jerked against his as she felt herself tensing once more. She couldn’t believe she was about to cum again. A man had never made her cum multiple times, especially not within minutes. She let herself give in completely to his touch as she gripped his warm thigh in her hand. A moment later she felt her release once more as she let a moan of uncontrollable pleasure erupt from her lips. 

She felt completely weak as Ulfric released her from his grip. She steadied her breathing, coming down from her high as he slipped out from behind her. She felt him moving something beside her.

“Lay on your stomach.” He whispered softly as he pulled her towards the other side of the bed. She had no energy to question him, nor did she want to. It drove her crazy with lust as he commanded her. She realized he positioned the pillows for her to lay on. Clearly, she was not the first woman in his bed . But she didn’t care. She was the woman in his arms at the moment, and she needed him. She slowly laid down on her stomach as he positioned the pillows under her hips, propping her up. She could feel his hard groin rubbing against her bare bottom as he kissed her back.

She felt him push her legs apart slightly as his warm thighs spread around her. She held the pillow under her chest as she waited. He gripped her buttocks in his massive hand as he groaned with pleasure, she felt the tip of him brushing against her opening as he tried to guide himself in. She relaxed as she waited to feel him inside her once more, something she never knew she would desire so desperately. 

He thrusted into her with a deep growl as he arched around her body, his thighs were gripping her legs together as he pushed into her. She moaned into the pillow, never feeling him so deep inside of her before. He leaned over her back, his breath on the back of her neck as he grunted with each slow thrust. He gripped the linens beside her as he began to pick up his pace, his grunts growing deeper with each class against her bottom. She was still weak from her releases, but he was thrusting into her with such intensity she felt as if she may release once more. He was so deep inside of her, but it wasn’t so much the depth as the way he was fucking her. Completely controlling her, but making her weak with pleasure. She gripped the pillow and muffled her loud moans into the cloth as her body began to tense again. Her face felt hot, waves of emotion and pleasure swirling inside of her, she felt euphoric. So much so it almost felt as if tears were going to break from her eyes. Something so intense was taking over her.

Before she knew it she was cumming so intensely she could feel her groin pulsing, pulling him closer inside of her. It was mere moments before he was clenching her buttocks in his hand as he thrusted once more inside of her, loudly groaning and pulsing inside of her. 

It wasn’t long before she was drifting off to sleep, her warm cheek pressed against his chest as he breathed into her hair, kissing her head gently. The feeling of needing to cry didn’t go away, and it scared her to Oblivion.

Chapter 35

She awoke early before Ulfric the next morning, the light barely peeking through the windows as she rubbed her tired eyes. Her muscles ached from their… numerous lovemaking sessions. She still couldn’t believe it wasn’t all a dream. She glanced over at his sleeping body next to her, watching his chest inhale and exhale with each slow breath. She had never really allowed herself to gaze at him so intently, normally she was too embarrassed when meeting his gaze that she looked away. But as he slept she was able to truly gaze upon the man she had agreed to marry. His face was crumpled as small snores broke through his crooked nose. He had a scar across the broad bridge, as if it had been broken and never healed properly. His brow was furrowed and his mouth pulled into a frown as if he were in deep political debate in his sleep. But she knew all too well the horrors that clogged the unconscious when asleep. It was rare she slept through the night without waking in a sweat or panic. But lately she seemed to be sleeping better, perhaps it was the fine sleeping quarters that eased her worries. Or perhaps she could accept it was her new companion that was helping ease her mind. 

Her stomach twisted at the thought. She didn’t want to become... too accustomed, too comfortable, too attached . She was still a soldier after all. A soldier in his war. And the war was nowhere near over. Not to mention she was a rather large and dangerous secret.

She quietly peeled the linen off her still bare body and glanced around the floor for her discarded robes. She reached down and pulled them off the cold floor. She had certainly stayed too long, and it would be even more suspicious that the dragonborn was emerging from the jarl’s private quarters so early in the morning looking extremely well rested and… revitalized. But she needed to duck out and change into her cuirass before breakfast in hopes no one would notice. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” 

She sighed as she pulled on her dress and shifted to look at the barely awake man beside her repeating the same sentiment he had the night before. The same words that still made her weak. Even still in bed he made her shaken with nerves with how handsome he was. She hated and loved it at the same time. His straw colored hair was slightly disheveled but still braided, he barely looked like he had just woken up. She on the other hand was not confident she wasn’t currently resembling a skeever. 

“Out of your private quarters before anyone gets suspicious.” She chuckled as she felt his hand wrap gently around her wrist and pull her back towards the bed. 

“I am the jarl I do as I please, my men know better than to question that.” He grumbled with a smug grin. She sighed and fell back onto the bed. She knew she couldn’t resist, she didn’t know the next time she would be allowed alone with him again. He pulled her closer to him as she welcomed his body warmth against her cold skin. He kissed her hungrily as if he had not seen her in weeks, as if they had not made love numerous times the night before, as if they had never consummated. She relaxed her body into his as she kissed him back, wishing it would never end. 

But as quickly as it had begun, a knock on the door ended their moment. Ulfric groaned and pulled away from her, quickly pushing himself out of bed and grabbing his nearby robes. Theodora leapt out of his bed quietly and darted for the bathing room, using the distraction to relieve her bladder. She could hear Ulfric talking through the walls, his voice probably carried through the entire palace, which didn’t necessarily bode well for their secret. She hoped Ulfric was right and the guards would be smart enough to not eavesdrop on their jarl. 

She quietly washed her face and combed through her hair with her fingers, hoping to look more presentable and make it less obvious she had slept in the jarl’s private quarters and that they had engaged in numerous sessions of fucking. She straightened out her robes and tied them, took a deep breath, and emerged once more from the bathing quarters. Ulfric was reading a scroll, his brow furrowed as he scanned the words with his eyes and studied the contents. She wanted to ask about the details, but even she knew that would be overstepping. 

“You should meet the others for breakfast.” Ulfric said as he noticed her enter the room once more. His voice was more stern, more jarl-like. She sighed and nodded, knowing she was being formally dismissed once more. She waited for him to say something, say anything, embrace her once more. Kiss her gently, brush her hair from her face and caress her chin, tell her he would miss her and cherished their lovemaking. But he simply walked over to his desk and sat down, scribbling something down on his scroll. She quietly dismissed herself, gritting her teeth at the annoyed feeling in her stomach. She needed to remember her place. Apparently, Ulfric felt the same way. 

Chapter 36

She ducked her head past the posted guards who paid her no attention as she slipped into her private quarters. She quickly tossed her silky robes, bunching them in her hands and throwing them at the foot of her bed in annoyance. She pulled on her cold armor and tightened the leather straps around her sore, used muscles. She walked over to her mirror and combed through her hair once more, pulling her loose strands back out of her face and tying it with a small band. She had to admit her face looked revitalized after the previous night, she didn’t look like she was walking dead. The dark circles under her eyes had lightened a little, and she had more pink in her cheeks than normal. She frowned and shook her head, she was starting to not look like a soldier, and that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. Not to mention the small red and purple splotches across her neck and chest had become more prominent. She would have to say she had a rash if anyone asked.

    She walked over to her neatly made bed and disheveled the covers a little, in case Rose came in and wondered where Theodora had spent the night. Truthfully she was starting to feel a bit… guilty for giving herself to the jarl so many times. She couldn’t resist letting the negative thoughts cloud her conscience. The jarl truly doesn’t want to marry YOU. I mean, look at you. You’re just a soldier! Certainly not fit to wed a jarl, and wed Ulfric at that. Clearly the jarl is looking for a quick fuck. And you’ve given that to him. Multiple times mind you.

    She jumped as her door swung open, she half expected Rose to be there, shocked that Theodora had not gone to breakfast yet. But she nearly fell over in relief as she was greeted with the familiar brazen hazel-eyed smartmouthed nord standing in her doorway. Hair and armor disheveled, frost nipping at her cheeks, but still the same Lydia.

    “Oh thank the gods you’re back.” Theodora sighed as she walked over to embrace her housecarl. Lydia chuckled and threw her arm around Theodora giving her a small pat on the back.

    “Honor to see you again my thane.” She chuckled. She sounded exhausted. Theodora felt bad for feeling so well rested. Lydia’s face was rather pale, except for her rosy cheeks and ears from being in the cold. Her eyes looked heavy, as if she had not slept in days.

    “How was the travel?” Theodora asked as she closed the door behind Lydia and gestured for her to come in. Lydia immediately plopped in the chair next to Theodora’s dresser and leaned her head on her propped elbow.

    “Exhausting. These men are exhausting .” She sighed.

    “They didn’t try anything funny did they?” Theodora asked with a hint of worry but Lydia quickly shook her head.

    “Please, I’d castrate them before they even had the chance. They’re all just… ambitious to head to Falkreath. You’d think they’d be exhausted. But Whiterun just fueled their arrogance.” She explained with a yawn. Theodora tensed at the reminder. Within the week they would be heading to Falkreath to meet up with the camp. From there they would have to figure out a way to take over the fort. Ulfric did not seem worried at all when he spoke to her about the plans the night before. But Theodora always worried something would happen to Lydia. Especially if she was already exhausted. 

    “Well you must be starving. Let’s get you some breakfast huh?” Theodora cleared her throat and tried to put on a reassuring smile. Normally Lydia was the one without worry, she was always the one begging to begin their next adventure. It was strange for Theodora to see her housecarl so utterly exhausted. 

    But Lydia perked up at the sound of food and gave her Thane a soft nod as she pushed herself up from the chair with a groan. Theodora desperately wanted to tell her all the details of her recent… engagement. But she wanted Lydia fed and rested more than her own selfish desires. So she kept her mouth shut for just a while longer. Not that it mattered. For all intents and purposes, there was nothing going on between Theodora and Ulfric. 

    Theodora listened intently to her housecarl detail her days in Whiterun as she gobbled down three servings of eggs, hash, toast, and sausage. By the sounds of it, she mostly did as Theodora did here: train. Well, Theodora certainly was up to other things she knew her housecarl was not doing. 

    “But, besides training we mostly helped clean up the city. Well, some of us. The other brutes just got hammered and harassed the townsfolk.” Lydia explained between muffled mouthfuls. Theodora rolled her eyes, unsurprised at the lewd behavior the soldiers were exuding after their recent victory. Even here they were more chipper and brazen than normal, which only made Theodora yearn to be alone with just one brute more.

    “But what about you my thane, I feel as if it has been ages since I’ve seen you. What troubles have you gotten yourself into?” Lydia posed as she raised her eyebrow at her thane. Theodora felt her face visibly flush as she quickly bit the inside of her cheek, trying to keep her face calm and collected. 

    “Oh… you know. Training the young pups. Waiting for you to come back.” Theodora chuckled nervously as she sipped her tankard of snowberry juice. She glanced up towards the opposite end of the table where the man she had spent the night with was engaging in a heated debate with a few of his generals. His face crumpled, his chin propped in his hand as he intently listened to the generals around him. Theodora couldn’t hear what they were discussing, but it seemed as if the generals were arguing, and Ulfric was merely listening, and quite possibly tuning them out. Her attention snapped back as Lydia tapped her hand.

    “What is this my thane?” Lydia gawked at Theodora’s hand, where she had forgotten to slip off the silver band from her right ring finger and tuck it away in her chest.
    “Oh uhm, just a small thing I bought myself. It was pretty. Bought it off Niranye for a very cheap price seeing as… I sort of saved her life.” Theodora lied as she quickly tucked her hand in her lap. She could feel Lydia eying her suspiciously, Theodora had never bought herself a piece of jewelry before, nor had she worn any of the jewelry they looted on their various bounty collections. Theodora always quickly sold them off for the best price. But thankfully, Lydia was too distracted by her starving stomach to further question her thane. 

    Theodora did not let herself glance up at the jarl any more throughout breakfast, she had already pushed her limits. But every second that she let her thoughts drift, she was replaying their night together over and over, desperately wanting him to take her in his arms once more. She hoped the desperation would soon die off. For her own sanity. 

~

    The returning troops spent the week resting. This time, however, Lydia did not argue when Theodora ‘commanded’ she get some sleep. Theodora was glad Lydia was back, but she was grateful for a little more time to figure out exactly how to broach the subject of her betrothal. Lydia had been with her through everything. Minus a few mishaps in the beginning, Lydia was by Theodora’s side from being named thane, all through defeating Alduin, and thensome. She had traveled across the country, spent day after day, night after night, trekking in less than desirable conditions as they searched for their wanted bounty. Lydia had carried Theodora back to their home after Theodora got a little too close to a giant and got herself knocked out. 

    Lydia had always been there for Theodora, so she knew she needed to be honest with her. The jarl has asked me to marry him, and I have agreed, but no one can know until the war is over . Yes of course Jarl Ulfric who else would I be talking about? Balgruuf? We just kicked him out of his own keep, you think I’m in cahoots with him? He’d kill me if he got the chance. We’re getting off topic. Yes, Ulfric has asked me to marry him. Barring I survive the war. And no one can know. Yes Lydia that means I cannot see the gods with another man. Oh by the divines we’re not discussing that he’s the jarl. Of course we’ve laid together. Yes we did it before marriage. What are you, a priestess of Mara? You’re changing the subject. Oh by Talos you don’t believe me do you? Well that’s alright, he probably won’t confirm it anyway. You know what, forget I said anything. I’m joking. Just in a fools mood today. 

It was as simple… and as complicated as that. She just needed to force the words out of her mouth, say it aloud for the first time. Speak it into existence. Perhaps more coherently than she played it out in her mind. But unfortunately, as the days passed and she still hadn’t been able to force the words out, it only became harder. Sometimes at meals there would be a lull; the soldiers would be dissipating from the grand hall or too involved in their own mead to pay any attention, and Theodora knew it was the perfect moment to just say Lydia, I have to tell you something . But instead all she managed to say was Pass the mead.

“Dragonborn!”

Theodora’s attention jerked back and she remembered she was outside in the courtyard, supposed to be training the young soldiers, who all had taken it upon themselves to spar each other all at once while Theodora slipped into her own unconscious. She sighed at the eager young soldiers who were just fooling around with wooden swords, poking each other playfully instead of practicing their stances. 

“Yes, what?” Theodora cleared her throat and turned her attention towards the voice that had nearly taken a year off her life. She was met with the intense glare from general Aelta, her pale cheeks and nose spotted with pink from the blistering cold. She walked over in her general’s uniform, the bearskin cloak dusted with the falling snow as her steel boots crunched in the icy ground.

“Get back to sparring before I put you on nightwatch duty.” Aelta barked harshly at the young soldiers as she approached Theodora, who gave the soldiers a-do as you’re told before we all get in trouble-look. They all quickly returned to their proper form, two on two, mimicking the sparring dance the well trained soldiers completed with real swords. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure general?” Theodora turned her attention away from the soldiers and towards the grumbling general, who was eerily similar to the other grump she was more accustomed to. The grump that she couldn’t escape thinking about. 

“You’re being summoned.” Aelta said plainly. Theodora could tell she was trying to remain neutral and poised as a general should be, but the slight raise of her brow indicated that Aelta too was curious.

“By whom?” Theodora asked in confusion. Aelta gave her a look as if to say isn’t it obvious you nitwit . Theodora sighed and nodded. 

“The last time I was summoned I had to make the seven thousand steps you know.” Theodora sighed as she wiped her hands on her armor and smoothed out the leather in hopes she would look more presentable for the one who was summoning her. 

“Mm well I think this is a tad more important than climbing some silly mountain to learn some silly words.” Aelta rolled her eyes as she gestured for Theodora to start walking. 

“Those silly words could kill you in an instant, or save your life. Remember that general.” Theodora teased her as she began walking towards the exit of the courtyard. 

“I think a sword through the gullet is more effective in my opinion.” Aelta grumbled behind her as they strode into the palace. The grand hall was empty of soldiers and full of the help preparing for dinner. She began to wonder…where exactly she was being summoned to ? Surely Ulfric would not send one of his generals to fetch her and bring her to his private quarters. That would be far too conspicuous.

“To the war room dragonborn.”

“Isn’t there afternoon council? Am I being questioned?” Theodora asked half jokingly, but mostly seriously as her voice lingered with concern. 

“Do I look like a mindreader? The jarl summoned you, now go .” Aelta shooed her along through the grand hall and towards the side door that led to the war room. Theodora hadn’t been in that room since she initially came to Windhelm. She cleared her throat nervously and tucked her stray hairs behind her ears, already feeling her cheeks reddening from being in the presence of Ulfric once more, especially after their night together. Don’t think of Ulfric spilling his seed inside of you, writhing with pleasure as he fills you. Don’t. Stop thinking of it. Think of the damn war you… concubine. 

Aelta shoved past her impatiently and pushed open the door to the war room, practically pushing Theodora as she stumbled inside. Theodora straightened her back as she glanced around casually, noting the number of generals and soldiers sitting in the room, all eyes on the two that had just entered. 

“Sit down.” Aelta said harshly as one of the generals resumed their sentence. Theodora quickly sat in one of the spare seats and folded her hands in her lap, her heart racing. Why was she being summoned to council? Was she in some sort of trouble? Is that why the jarl was so cold with her this morning? She let herself glance towards the grand desk where the map of all of Skyrim was displayed, and where he was sitting. She glanced away quickly as she met his gaze, he was indeed watching her.

“My scouts have reported the imperials are pulling east. Towards the coast.” One general, an older bald man with a thick grizzly beard covering his whole jaw and mouth, continued on. She looked back up and Ulfric had resumed his attention towards his general. 

“What in Oblivion are they doing on the coast? Bringing in more reinforcements?” Another man interjected, one she recognized as general Erikur, one who drank ale like bears shat in woods. 

“We hold all eastern holds; they certainly are not naive enough to try and bring in reinforcements from Morrowind. What’s left of Morrowind that is. Tullius may be trying to sway Laila, Thallion I trust you will remind her where her loyalty lies.” Ulfric spoke sternly and poignantly. A completely different voice than one she had become accustomed to. He was using his jarl’s voice after all. 

“Of course sir.” The balding general responded with a quick nod. 

“Now, let us discuss Falkreath. Galmar, report please.” Ulfric continued on seamlessly as he gestured towards his closest confidant, the other balding man who Theodora was much more familiar with. One who knew her secret. 

“Whiterun has been secured. Vignar is more than seasoned enough. We shouldn’t have to worry about imperials trying to pull anything funny there. Not to mention a good chunk of men stayed behind just in case they were foolish enough to try. Our troops in Falkreath have reported good numbers, they are ready to take the fort.”

Theodora tensed, perhaps that is why she was called into council. They would be departing for Falkreath soon. She knew that was inevitable, but a small part of her was hoping it would be a tad longer, giving Lydia time to rest. 

“And what of Dengir? Is he prepared?” Another general asked. Theodora furrowed her brow as the name felt vaguely familiar. Dengir… Dengir… She ran through the citizens of Falkreath. The ones she had spoken to briefly. There were the shop owners, the two brothers, one of whom was a previous Stormcloak. But his name was… Solof. Not Dengir. And his brother was… a brute, but she didn’t think his name was Dengir.

Then it dawned on her. Dengir was the older, grump of a man that sputtered about imperial spies as he sipped his mead in the corner of the tavern, Dead Man’s Drink. The uncle to Siddgeir, and even more importantly, the previous jarl of Falkreath. Of course Dengir was working with the Stormcloaks. 

“Dengir has been prepared for this since he was wrongfully removed from position. His nephew is too busy buying whores to notice a fleet of our men moving in preparation to attack.” Another responded. A murmur of chuckles erupted from the room. Theodora glanced to Ulfric who was merely listening intently, not even a flicker of amusement in his stern hardened face. 

“Jarl Siddgeir’s naivete is poor for his citizens, but beneficial for us. Regardless, we will proceed with caution. Galmar, divide the men. Have half go through Whiterun, the other half go through Ivarstead.” Ulfric spoke carefully and meticulously with every word. His fingers propped on the desk in front of him. Each general quickly nodded in agreement, as if they would even dare to disagree with him. She wasn’t sure if she admired the jarl for that, or if it terrified her. 

Council continued on for what felt like hours to Theodora. She listened to each word carefully. But she often drifted off. In her opinion, you could only talk about war so much. War was about action. And the only thing left they could do to obtain Falkreath, was to go to Falkreath. She would say she wanted to get it over with, but she could still smell the carnage from Whiterun, she wasn’t particularly looking forward to a new memory haunting her dreams at night; to adding more bodies to her kill list, more lives taken, more families destroyed. Even if they were faithless imperial dogs, they were still people.

But Theodora couldn’t let herself fall down that rabbit hole of thinking. They’d kill you without a second thought, remember that . She told herself as she cued back into council. She studied Ulfric’s stern face. He looked so… serious. His face crumbled with frustration as he listened intently to each word, and occasionally interjecting harshly. His voice always jumping Theodora, she wasn’t used to him being so… crude. She was used to the gentler side, a side she never expected to see. She wondered if anyone else saw what she did, the kinder, more gentle aspect to this great war hero of a nord. One that many had compared to Tiber Septim himself. But to her he was just… Ulfric. The man that cradled her cheek in his hand, kissing her with such gentleness she could barely feel his lips on hers. Not this loud, harsh, commander of a man that was ordering the death of hundreds. 

“The troops will dispatch day after next. Barring any complications. Order your men to prepare.”

Theodora’s attention snapped back as she realized the council had concluded. Every general standing and bowing their head slightly in unison. She watched in shock as they all filed out of the war room, as if they had not heard the same sentence she had. The troops will dispatch day after next… Order your men to prepare . Her stomach churned. Day after next she would be on the trail to Falkreath. She’d be preparing for a fight. 

“Dragonborn, a word.”

Her stomach churned even further as she stopped from pushing herself out of her chair and filing out with the rest of them. Her eyes mt Aelta’s who gave her an amused smirk as if to say ha you’re in for it now . She waited, of course, she still had no idea why she was there. Perhaps she truly was in trouble. She glanced over at Ulfric, who was still in jarl mode. His face stern as he waited for the remainder of the generals to file out of the room. She fumbled with her fingers as she listened to each clanking footstep, and finally, the sound of the door closing harshly behind the last general. 

“So, what did you think of your first council meeting?”

She let herself finally glance at Ulfric, who had relaxed back in his chair, his hands clasped on his lap as he cocked his head at her, waiting for her answer. His face had immediately softened, throwing her off. She felt as if she needed a glass of wine just to process his constant mood changes. She was accustomed to being around the brute jarl persona (Balgruuf had given her more than enough experience with holding her tongue and trying to not smirk in amusement at his temper), but with Ulfric her stomach was always doing flips with each change in his tone.

“Uh well, I’m still processing it.” She cleared her throat nervously as the harrowing sentence rang in her head the troops will dispatch day after next…

“We discussed this, you know Falkreath is the next step.” He said more sternly, as if she should not be surprised. She nodded and cleared her throat.

“Yes I know that. It’s just very soon.”

“Some say it’s much delayed. Do you disagree?”

She hesitated as she fumbled with her hands more nervously, but softly shook her head with a sigh of defeat. The logical part of her conscience was insisting it was more than time to take Falkreath, they needed to act quickly after their success in Whiterun before Tullius smartened up and shipped in reinforcements from Cyrodil (or gods forbid Hammerfell, those redguards could take a punch better than any nord). But her less-logical, more… irrational side of her conscience was telling her to insist they continue training for awhile, recover from Whiterun, not move too quickly in arrogance and lose even more men because they didn’t prepare properly. But she knew Ulfric wasn’t interested in that opinion. He was a war general. He was interested in action, in the fight. 

“No, I suppose it is time.” She sighed after a moment. 

A moment of tense silence filled the room as they returned to commander and soldier, she didn’t want to argue with the jarl , but she felt a strange twisting in her gut that her betrothed was sending her to her potential death. Without so much as a whisper of fear or worry.

She cleared her throat after a moment and exhaled her worries, returning back to simply a soldier being briefed by her commander, “Is there anything else?”

He sighed at her and shook his head, “No. Council meets again tomorrow morning right after breakfast.”

She paused in confusion, “You want me to attend council?”

He cocked his head at her, practically condescending, “That was part of the agreement for you to enlist, was it not?”

She frowned and nodded as she remembered before anything had happened between her and Ulfric, back when they were merely the dragonborn and jarl Ulfric, she had agreed to enlist on the terms that she would be a part of his council. If Whiterun was a success and she proved herself a worthy soldier, she’d be promoted to general. She’d be an even bigger part of his war.

“You’re dismissed.” He said coldly as he turned back to his documents spread across his desk. She suppressed an eye roll as she grit her teeth in submission and pushed herself out of the chair. Her legs felt asleep from boredom. She couldn’t believe she had agreed to be a part of council. Mind-numbing, endless discussion amongst a bunch of stubborn brutes who only cared for their own hides. 

No, she couldn’t think like that. She was… overtired. Or cranky. Or hungry. Pissed at Ulfric for dismissing her so coldly. Pissed at the jarl for sending them to Falkreath so flippantly. 

As soon as the door closed behind her she stormed up through the private quarters for Lydia’s room. Her mind flooded with what words would come out of her mouth. We’re going to Falkreath. I’m marrying the jarl. If we survive Falkreath. If the jarl doesn’t change his mind. She groaned as she hesitated outside Lydia’s door. She felt like she was about to lose her breakfast. Her stomach churned as her mind swirled endlessly. She felt like she couldn’t think straight. 

She pushed open the door with one last exhale, hoping the words would find her before she lost the contents of her stomach. 

She smiled softly as she was greeted by her housecarl, pulling on her fur boots as she sat on the edge of her bed. Her hair was freshly braided, and her hazel eyes looked rested. Theodora exhaled in relief, knowing her dear friend was at least a little more revitalized. 

“Well good afternoon my thane.” Lydia chuckled in surprise as she pulled on her second boot.

“Sleep well?” Theodora asked as she closed the door softly behind her. 

“Well enough.”

Theodora lingered in the doorway, “Good… good.”

“Is there something troubling you my thane? You’re grinding your teeth.”

Theodora chuckled as she unclenched her jaw and walked over to Lydia’s dresser, sitting down in the rickety wooden chair and leaning her arm over the back. She wished she was better at hiding her emotions, it was always one of her faults. 

“We’re going to Falkreath.” Theodora sighed after a moment. Lydia nodded softly, her expression unwavering. Theodora furrowed her brow in confusion, she felt like she was the only one upset with the development. As if no one else cared they were about to go into battle again. 

“You’re not concerned?” Theodora asked almost in annoyance. Lydia narrowed her eyes at her thane and shrugged.

“Falkreath is much smaller than Whiterun, and you weren’t worried then . What’s changed?” Lydia asked in confusion. Theodora sighed and rubbed her eyes, feeling the stress of it building in her temples. She didn’t want to admit a lot had changed since Whiterun. Since she came back and had dinner with the jarl, slept beside the jarl, made love to the jarl, agreed to marry the jarl, agreed to keep their marriage a secret . She felt like a completely different person. The once mighty dragonborn striking down the world-eater in the mist of Sovngarde was now scurrying around the jarl’s private quarters like a… well like a common whore. And now she was being sent to the next hold to acquire for the jarl, without so much as a proper sendoff. She felt like an idiot. Like a whore and an idiot. 

“Nothing.” Theodora sighed after a moment, “Nothing’s changed. Let’s uhm, let’s go get some dinner shall we?”

“Are you sure you’re alright my thane? You look a little… green.”

Theodora pressed her cold fingers to her cheek and didn’t feel warmth, she assumed she was just nervous from the impending journey. She couldn’t really tell what she was feeling. Her emotions seemed to be running rampant, controlling her thoughts. Perhaps it was almost time for her to bleed. 

“Oh yes I’m fine, just hungry. I can imagine you’re starved as well, nothing tugs at the stomach like a nice long sleep. Especially after the night watch shift. ” Theodora chuckled as she swallowed her nerves and pushed herself up from her seat. Lydia as always, eyed her suspiciously but pushed herself off the bed and gestured for Theodora to leave first. Theodora left feeling a little better, knowing no matter what happened or where she went or who she married, she would always have her housecarl.

Chapter 37

“Put down the wooden swords, pickup your weapon of choice.” Theodora commanded as the ever-growing group of young soldiers gathered around her. They all looked at each other in a panic, and Theodora couldn’t even reassure them everything was okay. Every day it seemed there were more and more soldiers joining, more kids joining a fight they probably didn’t even understand. 

    “Chop chop let’s go. I recommend a sword, they’re light, quick, and long. But if you’re feeling brave, there’s the warhammer and war axes.” She continued as she pointed towards the weaponry wall. Her stomach knotted as they all rushed over eagerly, pushing each other out of the way like they were fighting over toys. 

    They ran over and immediately paired up as soon as they had their weapons; the boys of course mostly chose war hammers to prove their strength, and the girls were wise enough to choose swords. Polk, she noted, chose a dagger. She sighed and shooed them all out of the sparring square. She walked to one side and drew her own sword.

    “Who’s first?” She pointed her sword at the line of young soldiers all glancing around in confusion.

    “What, we’re sparring you ?” Ivan half chuckled in disbelief. 

    “Thanks for volunteering, get on in here.” Theodora shot back at the young smug nord, his thick head already covered in dirt as if he had been rolling around like a hog in the mud. He sauntered to the opposing side of the sparring square and fumbled with the heavy war hammer in his barely pubescent hands. Theodora rolled her eyes and readied her stance with her shield in her left arm.

    “Alright, take a swing.” She commanded as she waited. Ivan snorted arrogantly and shot a look to the kids watching eagerly on the sidelines. He could barely lift the war hammer let alone take a swing. His round face turning the color of beets as he struggled with the weight. But with a cracked grunt he took his first swing in Theodora’s direction. She sighed and pushed him with her shield as he missed her completely, his back turned to her as he stumbled to catch himself. She shoved him to the ground and pointed her sword into his armor.

    “Dead. Who’s next.” She commanded harshly. The eager smiles from the young soldiers started to fade. Ivan grumbled in frustration under his breath as he pulled himself off the ice covered ground and hobbled to the sidelines to mend his bruised ego. 

    Theodora resumed position and waited to see who the next brave soldier would oppose her. To no surprise, Grayon was the next to offer himself. He had noticeably grown in the month that Theodora had been with the Stormcloaks, he certainly was the tallest out of the young crew, but he still had a lot of muscle to put onto his gangly body. He was smarter than his buddy Ivan, and had chosen a war ax. 

    “Take a swing.” Theodora gestured towards herself as she firmly planted her feet in the frozen ground and waited. Grayon lunged forward and attempted to strike her in the chest, but she quickly blocked him with her shield and pushed his force back onto him, sending him flopping onto his back like a fish out of water. She stood over his body with her sword to his throat.

    “Dead. Who’s next?”

    She repeated this with each of the young soldiers, they all swung at her, some of them getting multiple swings in before she was able to knock them over, but inevitably they all crashed to the frozen ground in defeat. Their little egos bruised, their noses sniffling from frustration. Theodora could feel herself growing more and more frustrated.

    “Have I taught you nothing these past few weeks? Is this all a game to you?” She bellowed harshly as they all admitted their defeat and sunk to the sidelines. 

    “It’s hard .” Ysma whined as she wiped tears of frustration from her rosy cheeks. Theodora felt her stomach knot at seeing the young girl so upset. She was just a kid after all. But the words of Aelta rang in her mind don’t coddle that girl or it’ll be her blood on your hands . She couldn’t coddle any of them. Not anymore. 

    “At any moment you could be sent into battle. You lucked out with Whiterun, but you won’t be so fortunate next time. Now, we don’t stop until someone disarms me. Let’s go.” Theodora commanded. She waited, but no one seemed to be daring enough to take her on. They were all exhausted, but war was exhausting. She couldn’t give up. 

    Polk came before her, his emerald eyes sharp with focus as he readied his stance. He had a shield in one hand, and a dagger in the other. She sighed and wanted to tell him to choose a real weapon, but she had defended herself with a dagger plenty of times. If the boy was daring, she wanted to give him a shot.

    “Alright Polk, let’s go.” 

    Normally the young ones took a deep breath, preparing themselves, trying to psych her out. But Polk did not wait, he lunged forward and bashed his shield into her side causing Theodora to stumble backwards in shock. Before she could throw her sword up to block him, he swung his dagger at her full force, nearly slicing her armor straight through to her arm. But she jumped out of the way just in time. 

    Polk however had learned to use his lankiness to his advantage. As Theodora jostled to the side in an attempt to steady herself, he had already swung his arm back around and nearly taken her down again. But she blocked him this time, pushing him back slightly as she swung her sword into his shield. He stumbled back with a grunt but did not fall and was already swinging at her again. She thought she had dodged him, until she looked down and saw the blood seeping into her armor.

    “Dead?” Polk raised his ginger brow at her as he panted out of breath, the dagger still posed in the air. Theodora chuckled and nodded.

    “Congrats Polk, you’ve earned yourself dinner.” Theodora chuckled as she wiped the sweat from her brow, feeling an immense wave of relief flow through her. Clearly the boy had been practicing. Clearly he had been listening to her. Clearly, he had a shot at surviving this damn war. His freckle covered face lit up with pride as he bowed his head slightly and stepped back.

    “The rest of you best take note from Polk. Now, do you want to give up?” Theodora turned her attention to the gaggle of young soldiers standing nearly in the sparring circle in awe as they watched the altercation between seasoned and young soldier transpire. She grabbed her sword and pointed it at them once more.

    “Or do you want to win this damn war?” 

Chapter 38

She fell into her bed completely mentally and physically exhausted. She had not stopped sparring with the young soldiers for hours, until they all were able to draw blood or knock her down. She wasn’t going to be the one to call it quits on them, she wanted to give them all the real practice she could before the real thing came. Before they were sent to Falkreath. Before they were sent to death. 

She could feel the cuts and bruises across her body. Her arms were exhausted from the constant blocking and swinging. She hadn’t sparred that long since… well since she was just starting out and spent all of her free time practicing with… with Ralof. 

She knew she should have been starving, but her stomach still had not settled since the news from the previous day’s council. And with each hour, with each minute that passed, she drew closer and closer to leaving for Falkreath. She wasn’t nearly this upset about leaving for Whiterun, but her stomach was completely in shambles. She had already lost her dinner from the night before, she didn’t want to risk eating on such an upset stomach. 

That morning’s council had been even more nerve wrecking for Theodora. The orders were becoming more specific. She and Lydia would be a part of the fleet going through Ivarstead, not Whiterun. She wouldn’t be able to stop into her home for supplies. She’d be going the same trail the imperials took her on when trying to execute her. She knew Ulfric knew that, and she was rather bitter he had so casually ordered it. Once again, he was giving her the cold shoulder before battle. She wondered if he was too afraid to face her, in case she never returned. 

She sunk into a steaming bath after fighting the urge to fall asleep in her dirty armor. She relaxed her neck against the cold lip of the tub and let the steam fill her nose and dampen her cheeks. Her skin singed at the warmth of the water in contrast to the cold Windhelm air she had endured all evening, but she knew it would be the last warm bath in a while and she wanted to take it in while she could. Her body ached with each movement. The kids had managed to beat her up rather bloody, though she was proud, she was still human. She winced as she looked down at the cuts reopening in the warm water.

Theodora still had not told Lydia about her… engagement. There had been moments when silence lingered in the air and the soldiers all were out of earshot of their conversation, but she couldn’t bring herself to say the words the jarl has asked me to marry him, and I have agreed . Because then she would have to explain why she didn’t discuss it with Lydia first, and why the jarl was acting like an ass to her. Not even looking at her throughout the day when their paths would cross. 

Mostly she was afraid Lydia would not support it, and call her a naive fool, just as she had done when Theodora originally agreed for them to stay in Windhelm. But she could think these thoughts all day or she could simply get it over with and tell her dear friend. 

She dried herself off and dressed in her night robes, igniting the fire with the palm of her hand summoning a simple flame spell, and pulled the rickety wooden chair as close to the flames as she could stand. She was exhausted, but her mind was running rampant. She needed to awake early, perhaps stop in town and buy out that snotty altmer… oh what was his name. Nurelion. Buy all the healing potions she could fit in her knapsack. Then stop by Oengul and have her weapons sharpened, her trusted sword, and her emergency dagger. She’d hopefully have enough arrows to get her out of Falkreath if things went south. She didn’t want to think about desertion, but she would rather die than end up on a cart for Helgen again. Then she wouldn’t be able to come back to Windhelm, that’s for sure. Her husband would call her a coward and execute her. 

She caught her slip and chuckled. Husband . He was still just the jarl. Maybe if she survived Whiterun and Falkreath, he would get it through his stubborn head that she can defend herself and there’s no need to keep her a secret like a burden. 

She wondered where the stubborn brute was at the moment as she stared into the licking flames. He was probably still in the grand hall, in deep discussion with his generals; or perhaps they had all moved to the war room and were already planning their next step assuming victory in Falkreath. Or perhaps he had already gone to bed, ignoring the fact that he hadn’t spoken a kind word to his apparent future wife since delivering the news she would be going to war. Perhaps he simply did not care. 

She angrily tossed another log on the fire causing the coals to spit out small chards, a few landing by her feet on the stone floor. She wasn’t sure why she was so angry, this is what she had agreed to after all; being the jarl’s secret affair, doing his dirty work on the sidelines, sneaking into his room late at night only to be banished the next morning before the birds have even crowed. But she needed to remind herself that she agreed to be a soldier before she agreed to be a wife; and she was given a gift for a reason. 

She tossed back a few gulps of a healing potion to help ease her cuts, and crawled into her cold bed, pulling the linens up to her chin. She tried to shut off her mind and focus on the fact that this was the last time she would be sleeping in a proper bed for awhile. But her mind of course was racing with the possibilities of the days to come. Whiterun was familiar, I was more arrogant. Sure Lydia and I have been to Falkreath dozens of times but we won’t be sneaking into a fort to handle a few bandits. Talos only knows how many imperials are lurking around that fort. We could be outnumbered. Falkreath is a stone's throw away from Helgen. I can’t be thrown on a cart again. Would Ulfric even know if I was killed? Would he even care? Or would he move onto the next candidate like it was nothing… 

Her eyes were fluttering shut as she tried to focus on neutral memories. But her mind would either slip to thoughts of the times she came closest to death, or she would think of her childhood and her stomach would churn, or she’d think of the days and bloodshed to come and she felt woozy. She tried to just focus on her breathing. But her mind was impossible to control. Imagine you’re in your home in Whiterun. Yes, Breezehome. You and Lydia have just returned with your pockets full of coin. Tomorrow you can sleep in, eat a feast for late breakfast, and enjoy the day. But even that thought sparked a sense of dread. She felt the intense yearning inside of her. She dragged her hand from under the covers and pressed her fingers to her cheek, mimicking the way Ulfric would gently touch her. She was pathetic, but she missed his touch. 

Imagine the war is over. You are married. Your husband is sending off a few couriers and will be in to join you at any moment. He will touch you in any way you could ever want, he will make love to you over and over, he will whisper how much he loves you before releasing his seed inside of you… 

She let out a frustrated groan and grabbed the extra pillow beside her, pressing it over her heated face and groaning even louder into the cloth. She hated how much she wanted that scenario. More than being back at Breezehome, more than… more than any dream she ever concocted of her and Ralof. 

But that’s all they were, silly fantasies to distract herself from reality. The reality that she would be shipping off to Falkreath the next day, slumming it with dirty soldiers, sleeping with a dagger in her hand in case any drunken fool tried to touch her, eating curious stews made of questionable meats, hoping to come across an unfrozen river so she could wash herself… Ah the glory of being a soldier. She hoped it would all pay off in the end… 

A forceful knock on her door caused her to nearly jump out of her skin. She groaned and wondered if it was Lydia asking why she skipped out on dinner. She threw the pillow off of her face and peeled herself out from the warm linens. She didn’t have an answer as to why she skipped dinner other than the fact that she was too busy trying to distract herself from weeks to come. Sorry I was spending all evening in my bath enjoying the smell of lavender and goat milk soap while I could. Sorry I was feeling sorry for myself because I’ve gotten myself into a messy situation that I can’t even bring myself to admit to you, which should tell me I’ve made a huge mistake but I can’t seem to admit that either. Sorry your thane is a pathetic mess and should’ve just let Alduin kill her in Sovngarde to save everyone the trouble. 

She trudged over as she wiped her tired eyes and suppressed a yawn, of course when someone was interrupting her then she felt tired. A couple more forceful wraps against the door jolted her back, maybe Lydia truly was concerned of her whereabouts.

“Lydia I’m coming geesh.” Theodora groaned from the other side as she pulled her robes tighter around her shivering skin and reached for the latch. She flicked it off and before she could move to twist the knob, the door was being pushed open. For a second she was worried it wasn’t Lydia, but an intruder and she was falling prey. Her heart leapt into her throat as she jumped out of the way of the door, her thoughts jumping to where did I leave my damn dagger . But as the massive figure arrogantly strode into the candlelight and slammed the door, she became tense for a whole other reason.

“Ulfric, what are you doing? You’ve nearly woken the whole palace.” She sighed as she crossed her arms against her chest and felt her face heat up. She could barely stand to look at him. She knew it would only make it harder for her to leave the longer she let herself stare into his eyes. 

“It’s my damn palace I’ll do whatever I damn please woman.” He bellowed at her, his voice practically a harsh shout. She furrowed her brow at him at his threatening tone with her, she was beginning to wonder if he even remembered he once proposed to her with how harsh he had been treating her recently. He scoffed at her silence and shook his head, his heavy steps stomping around the room as he paced frantically. She had never seen him so erratic. 

“What is wrong with you?” She asked. 

“Where have you been?” He shot at her ignoring her question. She rolled her eyes and thanked the gods it was too dark for him to see. 

“I’ve been here , in my quarters. Where else would I be?” She found herself growing agitated at his tone. 

“You skipped dinner, why? I waited all night for you, do you know how worried I was?” He practically yelled at her. 

“Will you please - Do you really want the entire keep hearing you?” She winced and scrunched her face at how loud his voice was when he was angry. It wouldn’t surprise her if all the guards on post could hear him stomping around his soldier’s private quarters in the middle of the night, screaming at her. 

“I don’t give a damn what the keep hears. I'm the damn jarl and I want to know why my damn wife was missing all evening!” 

Wife? She snapped her attention more closely to him as he ranted. He was pacing. His voice was almost uncontrollably loud. His sentences were… erratic to say the least. Not refined and carefully worded as he normally was. 

“Ulfric… are you drunk?” She sighed harshly at him. 

“Answer my question, woman.” He barked at her. She rolled her eyes and nodded to herself, she had seen a drunken man almost every night for her entire childhood, she knew what it looked like. Ulfric was smashed. It would’ve been more amusing if he wasn’t berating her. But it gave her a little more courage, knowing there was a good chance he wouldn’t remember it all in the morning. And if he did, she could simply say it was the mead giving him false memories.

“I’m not your wife . You’ve made that perfectly clear. And I was training the young soldiers in the yard all evening, then I came to my quarters to try and get some peace of mind before the coming days. Does that answer your damn question?” She whispered harshly to him. He was clearly stunned by the reversal of tones. She swore she saw him sink back slightly, his chest exhaling deeply as he rubbed his forehead. Perhaps she had gone too far and offended him, but it was far nicer than the things he had said to her. 

“You don’t get to talk to me like that.” He said darkly. She rolled her eyes once more and could hear the liquor talking. 

“Why? You ignore me, yell at me, send me to war, you come into my quarters in the middle of the night and yell at me more. Why can’t I talk to you like this? For all anyone knows we never speak to each other, we never see each other outside of council. You are simply the jarl, and I am just a lowly soldier. I’ll be off to Falkreath in the morning and you won’t have to pretend anymore.” She grit through her teeth and felt the tears of frustration desperately trying to break free.  

“Pretend? You think I’m pretending? You think I don’t worry about you each and every moment you are not in my sight?” His voice was growing loud once more, “You think I don’t wish I could take you in my arms every time I see you? You think I am pretending ? ”

“Just, go to bed, Ulfric.” She sighed at him as she crossed the room, moving farther away from him. She didn’t dare breathe in his sweet scent, feel the warmth of his body against hers, she knew she would lose all her anger. She wanted to crawl under the covers, throw the blankets over her head, and let the tears soak her pillow and lull her into a frustrated sleep. But Ulfric didn’t listen to her. 

She felt his hands wrap harshly around her arm and pull her back. She winced at her sore muscles and ripped away from him, but he grabbed her once more and pulled her into his grasp. She groaned as she nearly tripped with his drunken grasp yanking her back. 

“Ulfric stop.” She sighed as she tried to pull away from him but his grasp tightened around her, his fingers digging into her already sore muscles. His breathing was heavy, dark, he practically growled in annoyance at her trying to escape his touch. She knew he didn’t like to be told no, but she was tired of being pushed around by him. 

“Ulfric, stop .” She repeated more harshly as she firmly ripped her arm from his fingers. She let her eyes meet his for the first time since he burst into her room and she sank back. His eyes were not harsh like his grasp, or full of anger like his voice. His eyes were soft, his face crumpled, his brow furrowed and his mouth pulled into a frown. He looked… upset. And not angry-upset… She opened her mouth to question him but he stepped closer to her, his hand reached out and intertwined with hers, his fingers were warm against hers. 

“Ulfric you- you’re drunk you should go.”

“I need you Theodora, please.” He practically whimpered.

His words cut her. His voice was wavering as if he truly was upset and not just drunk as a fool. She had never seen the jarl… her future husband … so vulnerable. 

“Go back to your quarters, Ulfric. If you want I’ll… sneak in when the guards change shift.” She sighed once more. He groaned and cut her off with a kiss, a long kiss, one to make her forget where she even was. She could taste the wine on his lips, but just as she knew she would, her body immediately relaxed into his. She couldn’t find the strength to push him away anymore. She kissed him hungrily back, ignoring the fact that he was drunk and she should send him on his way, ignoring the fact that he would probably regret his actions in the morning, ignoring the fact that in mere hours she would be leaving for Falkreath. Ignoring everything, except for the fact that he was with her at that moment, pleading for her. 

He fumbled with her robes as he kissed at her neck, she rolled her eyes and pushed him off.

“Just, lay down. I’m getting you some water. Or perhaps a healing potion…” She sighed at him. Nords could more than handle their booze, so she couldn’t even imagine how much wine the brute had gulped down before stumbling into her room. He grumbled under his breath but quickly collapsed onto her bed, his weight causing the mattress to creak. She walked over to her dresser and poured a glass of water from the pitcher and watched as he struggled with the clasps of his own armor. Even the great bear needed help. 

“Here, drink it.” She commanded, feeling more confident knowing he was inebriated and she wasn’t. It was a strange change of command between the two, but he quickly downed the glass and slammed it on the nightstand. She rolled her eyes and poured him another one.

“Why are we so intoxicated this evening, hm?” She asked as she pushed his hands away and helped untighten the straps of his armor and robes. She had never undressed him before, she had always been too shy. 

“I’m sending my men to battle tomorrow, you don’t think that warrants some drinking?” He grumbled at her as he tipped back the second glass. 

“Funny I don’t remember you this drunk when we left for Whiterun, and that was a far larger hold.” She pointed out. He glanced up at her and once again she was hit with his eyes full of sorrow.

“Is there something you’re not telling me?” She sighed at him.

“There are many things I don’t tell you, I am the jarl after all.”

“Yes yes I know you’re the damn jarl.” She rolled her eyes and finished loosening his armor as he peeled it off and let it fall to the ground with a thud. He was almost completely naked, other than a loin cloth draped over him. His shoulders were hunched over, his back curved as he tilted his head onto his shoulder and sighed. It was clear he had burdens in his mind, secrets he could not share, trauma holding him down, and most importantly (and as much as neither of them wanted to admit it), he had fear. 

“You need rest. Lay down.” She said quietly. This time he didn’t argue and rested his head back against the pillow Theodora had used to muffle her own frustrations mere minutes before. She half expected him to be asleep by the time she crawled into the other side, but he turned to look at her.

“Every day I wait for you to come to meals. I watch the entrances, with each face that passes that isn’t yours I grow more and more restless. And then all of that disappears the second you walk in, even if you do have a sour look on your face. It always makes me feel better.” He spoke quietly. She kept her jaw tightly shut as her heart began to race at his words.

“And tonight, well tonight I was already a wreck. The wine just seemed to help. Every time someone walked into the grand hall and it wasn’t you I would drink. Every time my generals boasted about taking the dragonborn back into battle I would drink. Every time the soldiers cheered at the excitement of going to Falkreath I drank. Before I knew it all my men had left and it was just me and Galmar. The old man had to pull the bottle from my fist and shoo me off before I ended up saying something I’d regret, before I admitted…”

She turned to him and listened to each word, feeling a deep guilt burrowing in her stomach that she had selfishly hidden in her room like a child. 

“Admitted what?” She asked after he had grown so quiet she thought he had fallen asleep mid sentence.

“Before I admitted that their great leader, their true king of Skyrim, was merely a coward. Terrified of losing this war. Terrified of losing… the only thing that matters to me at this moment.” He sighed and rolled onto his back, speaking the words she never thought he would ever admit. She could see his chest slowly breathing in and out, his eyes flickering in the candlelight, his face tightened with worry. She let out a small exhale, feeling her own fears slowly dissipate. She pushed the linens off her legs and shifted herself, throwing her leg over his and straddling him, something she had never done before. 

“You’re not a coward, Ulfric, you’re human , but you’re not a coward. And we’re not going to lose this war. You know that, they all know that, Talos knows that, even I know that.” She said plainly as she pressed her hands against the sides of his stomach, his skin was nearly hot to the touch from all the wine flowing through his system. His hands aligned with her hips as he slid under her night dress.

“I can’t lose you, Theodora.” He said quietly. Her stomach lurched at his words, her face heating as she felt overwhelmed. She couldn’t stand how quickly she fell back into his arms at each gentle thing he said, only for the next day to come and he would scorn her. But all she could do was savor each sweet moment, and hope that someday… there would be no hiding.

“You’re not going to.” She spoke softly. 

He pulled her down against his chest as she let herself kiss him. His arm wrapped around her back holding her tight against his body as she propped her arm next to him. It was rare she found herself on top of a man, she didn’t like to feel so… exposed. But with Ulfric… especially an intoxicated Ulfric… she felt more confident. And frankly, she had nothing left to lose. She pushed herself up slightly and pulled her robes off her body, letting herself be as exposed as he was. A small groan erupted from his drunken lips as he pulled her back down onto him. 

“I need you, Theodora.” He repeated his earlier words and she let herself give in. She could feel his erection pressing into her groin. She wanted to fall to the side, let him shift on top of her and fuck her well into the night as she wrapped her legs around him and internally begged for him to go deeper. But this could be her last shot at making love in a while, and she wanted to make it count.

“I am yours.” She said as she pressed her lips to his gently, her hands feeling the warmth of his skin. Small groans of pleasure erupted from his throat as he pinned her tightly onto his chest. She could feel his hand reach around as he began to stroke himself, and she couldn’t resist. 

“Do you want me to do that?” She asked quietly. 

“I want to fuck you in every way my love.” He groaned, continuing to stroke himself. She felt her body flush at his carnal response. She didn’t want to admit she felt the same way. She shifted out from under his grasp and found herself doing something she never normally did unless a man begged her to. She settled between Ulfric’s warm thighs, letting herself look at him fully for the first time. His shaft was long, slightly curved to the side, but most of the groins she saw were curved in some way. Bumpy veins protruded from the sides as she couldn’t resist wrapping her fingers around the bulge. She heard him practically hiss with pleasure and surprise as she began to mimic his strokes. She wanted him, she wanted to feel him inside of her, but she also wanted to make him squirm with pleasure just as he did to her. She wanted to give him something to miss when she was gone. 

“Put your mouth on it, please my love.” He practically whimpered as his head fell back against the pillow with each gentle tug. She could feel his body tensing as she focused on the head. She suppressed a chuckle of surprise and did as he asked, letting the warm tip slowly push open her lips as she continued stroking him. A dark growl of pleasure broke from his throat the second he was against her lips. She could feel herself pooling with pleasure at how weak he was under her touch. 

She pushed him further into her mouth hoping he would feel pleasure, and not her teeth. Hoping she could make him drip with excitement. Hoping this was just the distraction she needed, that he needed. She matched her pace with her hand as she slowly pushed him further into her, and then pulled him out, repeating the strokes as he groaned darkly. His hand gently gripped her hair as she bobbed her head along. She didn’t want to admit just how mad it was driving her. How much pleasure he was giving her just by moaning. 

“Stop-”

She pulled herself off and sunk back slightly, “What, did I hurt you?”

“No.” he growled at her as he pulled her wrist towards him, “I want to cum inside of you my love. I want to fill you with my seed. I want you to take a part of me with you.”

Her stomach fluttered at his words as she shifted her body on top of him once more. He kissed her chest, gently sucking on her nipples as she wrapped her hands around the nape of his neck and held him close to her. 

“Please.” She moaned quietly as she waited for him to throw her down and fuck her. But he didn’t. He kept his arm wrapped around her as his hand moved himself, positioning his completely hard, still wet shaft between her legs. With a small push, he was completely inside of her, and she found herself enjoying it. He guided her hips along as he grunted with pleasure, falling back onto the bed as she ground her hips along with his shaky thrusts. She could feel him already ready to release inside of her, but she didn’t want it to be over. If it was over, he would go back to his quarters, and she would eventually fall asleep, and then she’d be heading to Falkreath. 

“Oh yes my love, my beautiful wife. My beautiful queen. You are fucking perfect.” He growled through grit teeth as he dug his fingers into her hips, one hand moving to rub her clit as she moved her hips along stride. She moaned at the intense sensation in her groin. My beautiful wife . It almost made her weep as she felt completely overwhelmed. She knew it was just the drunken words slipping from his mouth. His breaths began to quicken as he gripped her tighter in his hand. She knew he was about to release. He was completely inside of her, she could feel how hard he was, how good it felt for her to grind her hips against his. She couldn’t help but let small moans erupt from her lips.

“Oh my love fuck keep going- oh you are perfect .” He moaned darkly as she kept her pace, ignoring her muscles screaming and begging her to stop, but she needed him. Quite honestly, she was dying to have him fill her. She loved feeling his seed releasing inside of her. 

With a sharp grunt and a tightened grip against her skin she could feel him releasing inside of her. It was over. She felt an overwhelming rush of disappointed flush over her as she slowly pulled herself off of his warm, exhausted body and slowly crept off the bed and towards the bathing room. She didn’t want Ulfric to see the tears that were beginning to creep down her cheeks. 

She closed the door and sat on the cold lip of the tub. She could feel him oozing out of her, spilling on her inner thighs. But it was the only part of him she had. She wasn’t his wife, she wasn’t his queen . She was merely… well a hole for his dick. And she hated how much that was killing her. 

She wiped her tears and expelled her bladder, cleaning  away any excess seed. She was an idiot for loving the most powerful and dangerous man in the country, but that’s what this was. Love. She loved this man, and she was going to die for this man, with nothing more than his seed to prove that she meant anything to him. 

She sighed and swallowed the burning lump in her throat, rinsed her face with cold water, and crept out of the bathing room knowing Ulfric was most likely asleep. If a copious amount of wine didn’t put a nord to sleep, spilling his seed certainly would. Or Ulfric had simply returned to his private quarters after getting what he came for and she would once again fall asleep in an empty bed with nothing but her thoughts to haunt her.

But as she crept back towards the bed she could feel him gazing upon her. She was glad the fire was dwindling, not giving enough light for him to see her puffy pink cheeks. She felt like a foolish child for crying over a man, but she couldn’t seem to reign in her emotions since she came to Windhelm. 

“You should go back to your quarters, people will talk.” She sighed quietly as she slowly pushed her tired muscles into the bed and let the soft linens fall across her cold skin. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” He said quietly. His voice was hoarse, tired. No, but I am she thought to herself.

She felt his arms wrap around her body and pull her against his warm chest once more. She couldn’t fight it. She rested her cheek against his collarbone, listening to the faint thumping of his heart as he breathed into the top of her head. She felt comfortable, as if she could lay there in his arms forever, feeling the roughness of his skin against hers, the lines of his scars, the sandy hair that peppered across his torso, the sweet musk that was basically an aphrodisiac. She couldn’t believe how quickly she was falling for a man just out of her grasp, once again. 

She felt his hand crane and brush her hair from her face, cradling her cheek in his palm and brushing his thumb against her damp skin. She would never admit she was crying.

“You’ve no idea how deeply I care for you.” He whispered to her, pulling her gaze up to meet his. I can’t imagine it’s anywhere near what I care for you she thought to herself, unable to speak the words. 

“You have nothing to worry about in Falkreath you know.” She sighed quietly. His mouth pulled into a frown as he shook his head.

“I thought the same at Darkwater Crossing and yet.”

“Well,” She smiled softly, “What are the odds of that happening twice? ” 

He chuckled and exhaled quietly, “When it comes to you, I don’t like to take the chances. Trouble seems to go hand in hand with being the dragonborn , does it not?”

She rolled her eyes and chuckled, “Apparently so, I’m in bed with the jarl.”

A deep chuckle broke from his lips as he kissed her forehead. She wanted to lay with him all night, listen to his sweet words over and over, feel the brush of his lips against her skin. Frankly, she wanted it every night. But she knew that wasn’t possible. Not for a long time. And it killed her. 

“Promise you’ll come home to me.” He breathed softly as he craned her chin up to meet his gaze once more. She felt her cheeks flush as she met his sorrowful gaze, his mouth pulled into a deep frown. She wanted to memorize the lines to his face, the small scars across his skin, the broadness to his nose, the softness to his blue eyes. She wanted to remember that moment in case it was the last she ever saw of him.

“I promise. As long as you can wait for me.” She spoke quietly, feeling the shakiness in her voice. He chuckled softly.

“I’ve waited my whole life for you Theodora, and I will wait a million lifetimes for you if Talos be it.”

Chapter 39

Theodora awoke before the birds had even begun to sing, but no matter how hard she tried she could not ease her mind back into sleep. She laid still, listening to the snoring coming from the massive warm body pressed against her side. He shouldn’t be here she thought to herself, he should’ve gone back to his quarters, now it’s going to look strange he’s emerging from my private quarters so early in the morning. But she couldn’t bring herself to wake him and shove him out of bed. It was rare she had these moments alone with her husband-to-be. His tan brow furrowed even in his sleep, he always had a perpetual look of grumpiness on his face, something she found herself adoring because she knew he wasn’t just a grump. He was quite loving and gentle towards her. His words from the night before rang in her mind.

You’ve no idea how deeply I care for you . 

She clenched her jaw tight each time she began to think about the reality of the situation; that she would be leaving Windhelm, potentially for the last time, she’d be leaving the man she had promised to marry, potentially for the last time, she’d be going to battle, potentially for the last time. She’d no longer wake up next to his crumpled face and warm embrace, perhaps ever again.

This is just the same as Whiterun, if not easier. This is just the same. You’ll be back in Windhelm in no time. She repeated in her mind over and over, but nothing seemed to calm her racing pulse. She didn’t know why she was so nervous, she knew Falkreath like the back of her hand, almost as well as she knew Whiterun after all the time she and Lydia spent in the area. She knew it was covered in thick woods, easy for her to hide from the imperials. She knew the most she had to worry about was the occasional wolf pack, hardly any bears lived in the Falkreath area; they mostly lived more towards Ivarstead or Markarth. She knew there were plenty of snowberries, rabbits, and even foxes in case they ran out of rations. And she knew the fort they were seizing. Fort Neugrad. She and Lydia had cleared out a bandit clan for Jarl Siddgeir not long after Theodora earned her title of thane. She knew it was tucked away by the cold mountains, next to a small lake. She knew there was a prison in the cellar (she remembered how it reeked of mold and mildew because of the lake seeping in). And she knew, like most forts, there were many small rooms for people (or skeevers) to hide in and they would need to be extremely thorough before popping their celebratory mead bottles. 

And she knew, above all else, she could not fail this siege. The imperials most certainly knew the dragonborn had been aiding the Stormcloaks, once word was sent back to Tullius after their quick succession of Whiterun. That meant more numbers would be awaiting them in Falkreath. More men on both sides would be killed, more lives lost to this war. A war she desperately wanted to be over. If she let her guard down for even a second, she could be captured. She didn’t like to think herself a powerful force, but it was something she couldn’t deny. Tullius would be attempting to capture her now that she’s chosen a side, Ulfric was correct about that. 

Capture, or kill. She wasn’t sure which she wished for least. If she were captured… again… she knew she wouldn’t be as fortunate as she was in Helgen. And nearly being burned alive by Alduin seemed preferable to what the Imperials would do to her for Stormcloak intel. Or worse, they’d sell her to the Thalmor, who wanted her head on a spike. She knew if she were captured… she wouldn’t be leaving alive. 

“Why are you awake? It is still early.” 

She was so far down her spiral of scenarios she didn’t realize the snoring next to her had stopped. Ulfric was watching her. She sighed and shook her head, unable to look in his sweet blue eyes.

“Easier to travel this early, I should pack my things.” She said quietly as she forced herself to unravel her cold skin from the comfort of her fine quarters’ furs and linens. A luxury she may never experience again. 

“I have prepared more than enough supplies for you. You need rest.” He grumbled as his hand pulled her back. She hid her flushing face and pulled away.

“Ulfric, if I get back into bed I will not get back out.” She said quietly as she grabbed her discarded clothes and began to pull them quickly onto her bare body, she could practically feel his hands all over her from the night before, which only made her feel worse. Last time she left Windhelm she was pissed off, Ulfric had scolded her and she left thinking he was going to have her killed. But now she was leaving with him still in her bed, staring at her with sullen eyes. She wasn’t sure which was worse. Perhaps it would be easier for her to leave if he yelled at her again.

But he ignored her, grabbing her hand gently in his and pulling her back onto the bed. She liked to think she could rip her arm away if she really wanted to, but even after all his years as a soldier and then a jarl, Ulfric could still overpower her. Something that both aroused and terrified her. 

“Theodora please.” 

She sighed and rubbed her tired eyes. His voice was gentle, still hoarse from sleep. He wasn’t commanding her, he was asking her. She sat down on the edge of the bed and let herself look at him, as much as it pained her, she wanted to memorize how he looked in case it was the last time she saw him. His eyes were slightly red from the copious amount of wine he consumed the night before, something that made Theodora feel even more inclined to stay in Windhelm. The great jarl, the commander of war, the veteran of wars before, had gotten himself drunk at the thought of her leaving. Frankly, that was more melting than any bard’s poem ever written. 

“You are worried.” He spoke after a moment. She let out a chuckle and rolled her eyes.

“Aren’t you?” She shot back at him. He furrowed his brow at her and shook his head.

“Falkreath is but a means to an end. I could send you, and you alone and we’d have the fort by morning.” He responded, his voice dripping with his jarl’s tone. She turned her gaze from him and rolled her eyes once more, it did make it a little easier for her knowing he wasn’t so worried. But it did hurt her ego a little. 

“Well then, no need to drown yourself in mead again. May as well send me to Markarth, or gods send me to Solitude while you’re at it.” She grumbled under her breath. Ulfric sighed from beside her.

“ Theodora -”

She groaned and stood up, moving swiftly away from the bed before he could pull her back and force her to get comfortable nestled against his warm body. Before he could force her to look into his sweet, sullen eyes and beg him to keep her here, to announce to the entire country and more that she was his wife to be.

But she had to look away. She had to find her cold, barely tarnished Stormcloak cuirass, and remind herself the whole reason she agreed to stay was to aid the war and end the war. Not to marry herself off and fall for the words of the jarl. 

She pulled on her armor over her few layers of thin, furlined clothing, and tightened the straps so far it felt as if she couldn’t breathe, but she almost preferred it that way. She could focus on the pinching of her ribs, or how snug her armor felt compared to the last time she left for battle, and not on the reality. She could hear Ulfric dressing from behind her, the sound of his armor clanking against the floor as he picked it up, his steady breathing as he pulled his clothes on and went from drunken man she loved, back to jarl . A jarl about to send his men to battle once more.

“Wait here.” He commanded sternly. She opened her mouth to argue instinctively but she heard the scuffle of his boots against the floor before the sound of her door opening and closing.  She grumbled to herself and paced around the room, frantically looking for something she could occupy her hands with. She couldn’t sit down, she couldn’t rest. She needed to force herself to leave before she talked herself out of it. Not that she could talk herself out of it. She was a soldier, this is what she enlisted to do. 

She settled on meticulously lacing her boots, then unlacing them when it didn’t feel right, and lacing them again. The thin leather straps she fashioned around them were nearly burned into her hands by the time she was satisfied. But they still didn’t feel right. Nothing felt right to her about this situation. 

She paced around her quarters, trying to decide if she wanted to defy orders and just leave, go wake Lydia and join the troops for breakfast preparing to leave. Or if she wanted to stand and stoically wait, give Ulfric the cold shoulder as he had done to her last time they were in this situation. But that didn’t feel right either. 

She drummed her fingers against her crossed forearms, hugging her elbows tight around her chest as she looked around at her few belongings. She knew she would need to pack light, that she could stop in Ivarstead or Falkreath for supplies if needed, but she should pack enough to at least get her and Lydia to the campsite. She wanted to go to the market and see who was awake early enough for her to bribe all of the best healing potions out of. 

She grabbed her travel knapsack and rifled through the contents; it felt like it had been years since she needed her travel bag. After all, as soon as she realized she was the dragonborn she was almost constantly on the road. And this bag had been through it all with her. She rubbed her fingers over the scorched leather from the many times it came close to going up in flames with her when she and Lydia battled a dragon. 

She dumped the contents on her desk and sorted through them. Empty healing potions, old stale rations, torn bounties shoved at the bottom, all needing to be tossed. She folded her spare leather armor as tight as she could and stuffed it in the bottom, then tossed a few healing potions from her chest keeping a mental tally (a full bottle would heal mostly anything, but if she and Lydia both were injured and needed multiple each, she’d have to resort to scavenging for blue flowers and maybe some wheat to mix together for a shotty potion).  She pulled open the drawer to her desk and grabbed her tattered journal, she knew she would need that to keep her sane. She tucked it in her armor underneath the potions and sighed, a pain surging through her chest as she truly realized this could be the last time she was standing in this room. 

Her door whipped open once more and she quickly erased any sort of panicked look off her face, the last thing she needed was for Ulfric to lecture her on the fact that this is war, we knew this day was coming, get on with it . But as she glanced up and met his gaze, she realized perhaps, he wasn’t in a mood for a lecture either. 

“No need for that, I told you I have supplies for you to take.” He sighed at her as he quickly closed the door and made his way over to her. She noticed he was holding a new leather knapsack, one certainly fancier than the tattered one she had patched and sewn hundreds of times. She opened her mouth to argue but he was already moving her old bag to the side and handing her the new bag. 

“It has plenty of potions, rations, a canteen that’s full, and I even tucked a small bottle of wine in there. You can drink that when the fort is ours.” He explained as he loosened the straps and gestured inside the bag. She chuckled and pawed through the belongings. She could tell the potions were certainly stronger (and more expensive) than anything she had ever bought, there were pouches of dried meats and fruits, a couple cakes wrapped in thin cloth on top, and a tiny little bottle of red wine. Not to mention something jingled when she moved the bag, and she knew it was a pouch of extra septums.

“You really didn’t have to do that.” She sighed with a soft smile, “But… thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He responded sullenly. “It was the least I could do.”

A tense silence passed between them as Theodora transferred her few belongings into the new knapsack, making sure not to crush the fresh cakes, and hoping Ulfric did not notice her journal she quickly shoved down. Not that it was abnormal for someone to keep a journal, but she worried Ulfric would ask her about it. She didn’t want to admit she had written about him (vaguely of course).

“Is this?....” 

Her attention whipped back as Ulfric picked something up off her desk and held it in his palm. She almost forgot. He turned it, examining it in the light, the sleek blackness glistening.

“Alduin’s scale.” She finished for him. He met her gaze and she was amused with how befuddled he looked, his eyes wide with curiosity. It was rare she was able to stump him, and she always enjoyed it when she did.

“Well, I had to keep some sort of keepsake.” She chuckled as he continued to study it in his hand. After all, Ulfric was one of the few people who encountered Alduin and lived to recall the day. She still remembered that day, or rather weeks , in Sovngarde battling amongst the souls of dead warriors to rid Alduin of every realm. She remembered not truly believing it had happened, until she returned back to Skyrim with Alduin’s scale still clutched in her hand. She still had a hard time believing it.

“Do you always carry this with you?” He asked after a moment. 

“When I’m traveling, yes. It… reminds me why I’m here. That I’m fortunate to be here, back in this realm… I keep it for good fortune. So far, it hasn’t failed me yet.” She explained. Ulfric sighed and set it gently down on the desk, his mouth turning into a frown as he turned to face her. His hand lifted to gently brush her hair from her face, forcing her to look at him, as much as she didn’t have the strength to. She could already feel girlish tears welling in her eyes and she was ashamed, but she couldn’t deny the fact she would miss the brute.

“I want you to be extremely mindful out there. No showboating, do not take any more risks than necessary. You know the fort, get in, get out. I have already spoken with your housecarl, you two are to sleep in shifts, and do not let each other out of your sights. Do not brand yourself as the dragonborn, do not speak to anyone other than Lydia and Galmar about certain information. No one can be trusted. Especially not with your safety. Do you understand me?”

Theodora groaned and threw her head back, “Ulfric I’ve been to battle before . In fact, I was just at Whiterun not too long ago, remember?”

“ Theodora .” He said more harshly, “Do you understand me?”

She sighed and felt her cheeks flushing with embarrassment at being scolded, but more so with adoration for the man standing before her, telling her he has taken extra precautions behind her back to ensure her safety. 

“I understand. And I promise to be on my best behavior.” She answered, but he didn’t look satisfied.

“No showboating, no bragging, no drinking strange liquids from strangers in taverns, Lydia and I will be attached at the hip more so than normal. I promise.” She continued after a moment, reaching down and picking up the heavy scale in her hand, “If this proves anything it’s the fact I keep my wits about me in battle.”

Ulfric chuckled softly and shook his head, “It proves you are sometimes too brave for your own good.”

“But I have yet to die,” She pointed out smugly, “And I’ve only been captured… once but that was miscommunication.”

He sighed and looked at her with utmost exhaustion, but she could tell deep in his eyes he was more worried than anything. And she didn’t want to admit she was rather worried as well. Worried she wouldn’t see him again. Worried she’d never feel the soft touch of his hand against her cheek. Worried that perhaps he would find another while she was gone, or change his mind about the entire marriage ordeal. After all, she had nothing to show for it. Their love had been entirely in secret, kept behind closed doors and occasional glances. She fidgeted with the shimmering silver ring on her finger and sighed, she knew she would need to leave it behind. She slowly slipped it off and held it out for him to take, the only person she wanted to hold onto it. 

“Soldiers don’t wear jewelry, begs for bandits.” She cleared her throat and swallowed down the lump that had formed. The last thing she wanted to do was leave her one reminder that all of this was real behind. His shoulders slumped slightly but he did not argue as he gently took it from her hand and slipped it into his robes.

“I want you to have this then.” He sighed softly. She glanced up and watched as he dug into his pocket, pulling out a thin leather strap with a small amulet at the end. Her shoulders sunk as she took the silver amulet in her hands and ran her thumb over the worn leather.

“I’ve had it all my life. My father had it before I. And my grandfather before him.” He said releasing it into her palm, “And, our son will wear it someday.”

Her breath hitched at his words but she did not feel panicked, instead she felt… well she felt calm, overwhelmed. Imagining the thought of a child, with Ulfric . It strangely… relaxed her, reminding her that war was temporary, and perhaps she would come out of this on the other side, and he would still be waiting for her.

“Ulfric I can’t take your amulet of Talos.” She cleared her throat and blinked away the tears.

“I won’t hear it. You will take it. It has kept me safe all these years, through everything, even Helgen. And I know it will bring you home to me.” He reached up and brushed her cheek with his thumb softly, wiping away the small tear that escaped. She quickly cleared the lump in her throat and smiled.

“But what will you do without it?”

He chuckled as he reached around to slip it over her hair, tucking it safely under her armor, “Wait impatiently for its return. Pray to Talos each day, and each night it keeps you safe, and it brings you home to me soon.”

“I’ll do my best.” She smiled and wiped away the last of the tears, “I should probably go see if Galmar is ready to go.”

“Soon. I must admit I lied about one thing.” He said as a small devious grin creeped across his face.

“And what’s that?” She chuckled as she relaxed her body against his, letting him run his hands down her back and hold her close.

“I have to give you one more thing. Something to mark you as mine, and mine alone.” He practically growled before hungrily pressing his lips against hers. She tossed her bag on her desk and let him consume her, holding her tightly against his chest as she fought to catch her breath. She hungrily kissed him back, wanting to memorize the taste of his lips, the feel of his warm breath against hers, the small groans that escaped him as he consumed her. She wanted to memorize every second, every movement.

He tore off her armor like it was nothing and swung her in his arms, forcing her to wrap her legs around him and cradle her arms around his neck as he moved her swiftly to the bed. His mouth barely leaving hers as he bit gently at her lips, tightening his grasp around her thighs, so tight she wondered if he would leave marks. But she didn’t care, she wanted any memory of him she could take. 

But as rough as he was, he still cared for her gently as he laid her on the soft linens and trailed his mouth with soft kisses down her neck and to her breasts, playfully sucking on each nipple. She arched her back into his touch and could feel herself pooling at just the softest kiss against her chest. She needed his touch, and she had never experienced this kind of desire before. 

He quickly tore off his robes and she didn’t shy away from gazing upon him, his broad chest peppered with scars and dark sandy hair, his muscles perfectly corded along his arms. Her mind flashed to the night before, how exhilarating it was to overpower him, to take him in her mouth and then mount him and make him cum for her. She wanted many more nights together to explore that further, but at that moment, all she needed was him.

She felt his hand trail down in between her thighs and before she could think to clench her jaw shut, he slid his finger in between her folds and sunk himself in her wetness causing her to cry out. But frankly she didn’t care. This could be their last time together, who cared if anyone heard? 

“I want you to remember this Theodora. When you are traveling and alone and you can’t sleep. When you pleasure yourself I want you to think of me, and only me.” He growled darkly into her chest as he continued to run his lips over her nipples, his finger gently circling her clit, knowing she wouldn’t be long. His words caused her to practically whimper with desire, needing him to finish her. But she knew he was going to relish their last time together too.

“Are you always this wet when you think of me?” He asked, his voice rough and filled with lust. She moaned as he flicked gently against her clit and moved down to slide inside of her again.

“Yes gods .” She moaned, arching her back and moving her hips to his touch. 

“Will you think of me, and only me when you pleasure yourself?” He growled. She nodded quickly in hopes he would finish her, but he paused and waited for her.

“I want to hear you.” He commanded. She groaned and clenched her jaw with another swirl against her sensitive pearl.

“I only think of you, Ulfric . Please .” She moaned quietly, grasping at the linens beside her as she begged for the teasing to end, but he slid his finger down inside of her, his palm gently grazing against her aching clit. And when she jerked for more, he pushed another finger in causing her to nearly come off the bed with ache.

“What do you want my beautiful wife?” He groaned against her as he ran his teeth across her nipple causing her to jerk with pleasure.

“I need you Ulfric. Please.” She breathed through her shaking body. He slowly pulled his fingers out of her and slid them gently across her clit. She nearly finished at the gentle touch as his groans lingered in her mind, but then he pulled his hand away. She exhaled sharply and tried to catch her breath from her frustration, but before she could he had slid his massive body effortlessly between her shaking thighs and began lapping at her wetness intensely.

“ Fuck .” She moaned loudly unable to keep her jaw clenched any more. His tongue swirled against her as he growled deep in his chest.

“Tell me when you are coming, I want to hear you.” He pulled back edging her closer to her finish as she clawed at the linens, begging for release. She felt overwhelmed, never feeling such intense pleasure before, never feeling such an intense need before. She felt his hand slide in, his fingers dipping into her entrance as he continued swirling around her clit. She knew she was about to finish.

“Oh gods Ulfric please. Please don’t stop.” She groaned and arched her back as the wave began to build over her. 

“ Please, I'm coming .” She jerked intensely as he thrusted his curved fingers inside of her and sucked gently at her clit. The waves of pleasure shooting through every inch of her body so intensely she couldn’t keep her whimpers from coming silent. Her legs trembled, her skin felt cold, and she was overcome with the intense feeling of emotion. But she couldn’t let go, she needed him.

He twisted to her side and pulled her onto his lap as she still lay completely weak from her release. He groaned into her neck as he kissed her hungrily, his hand pumping his erect cock, and she could already feel it sticking to her with his seed. 

“Do you need me inside of you, Theodora?” He growled deeply against her neck as she grinded her hips against him.

“I need you Ulfric please.” She moaned running her hands through his hair to grasp onto his neck. She didn’t care about any self worries or doubts, she didn’t care about being too forward, she wanted him. She needed him. 

He slowly pushed himself inside of her with a deep groan, his arm tightening around her back pinning her against him. His lips crashed against hers as she she failed to keep her whimpers of pleasure quiet, she could taste herself on his mouth but she didn’t care. She parted her lips slightly inviting him in, letting him completely devour her.

She ground her hips against his, causing a dark sultry moan to escape from his chest. She needed to hear that again. She wrapped her arms around his neck anchoring her tighter against him and kept her pace, slow, agonizing, just as he had done to her. His hands dug deeper into the flesh on her hips as he guided her along with hoarse grunts, he wanted her to go faster, but at that moment all she wanted was to burn into her memory the sound of how weak he was with pleasure from her. How she caused that. 

“You will be the death of me dragonborn.” He grunted out, his warm breath on her lips sending chills down her spine. He wrapped around her tightly and swiftly shifted her down to the linens, pulling himself out of her only for a moment, but enough for Theodora to groan in disappointment. His hands gripped her legs, moving her body with ease so she was perched in front of him, her elbows barely having the strength to keep her propped as she clenched the linens below her. His warm hands ran along her thighs and up to her buttocks where he palmed her forcefully and she moaned in surprise, hating how good it felt when he was rough with her, knowing if anyone else tried to touch her that way she’d gut them. But with Ulfric, it was agonizingly blissful. 

She felt him tease her opening with his warm head, running it along her pooled wetness up to her clit and grinding against her there, causing her entire body to jerk against the sensitivity. And before she could force herself to beg the words, his hips clashed into hers as she felt all of him thrusted inside her.

“Your cunt was made for me, Theodora.” He groaned darkly as he gripped onto her hips and thrusted forcefully into her once more. She bunched the linens up to muffle her cries of pleasure against each thrust. Each agonizing, slow thrust deep into her as he grunted and kept her flesh gripped in his hands. His forcefulness inside her felt undeniably pleasurable, but she was more overwhelmed by how wet she became with each of his dark words. She shouldn’t be so aroused with a man proclaiming her as his, or marking her as he put it. But it made her weak with pleasure, knowing this great brute of a man was claiming her as his, and his alone. She had to resist begging him for more, to spill his seed inside of her over and over, to kiss her neck so hungrily that it left small purple marks, to grip her buttocks in his hands so tightly that it left etchings of his fingers, and to fuck her so roughly that she had trouble sitting for days without reminiscing of how he felt inside of her. As much as she was ashamed of herself, she wanted to be claimed. 

She could feel him ready to spill his seed, his pace began to quicken, his grunts were dark and desperate as he clung onto her, clashing his hips against hers as she let herself enjoy their last moments. Her moans escaping from her throat and her fingers gripping the linens just to keep her from completely falling over with pleasure.

“Tell me what you want, my wife.” He growled as he could tell she was aching with pleasure. She groaned and felt chills run down every inch of her skin.

“ Please .” 

“Tell me .” He grunted with a hard thrust against her. She moaned and curled her body against his to feel as much of him inside her as she could. Her own pleasure building as she felt herself near climax again. This is your last moment together she thought to herself as she knew what she wanted him to hear, what she desperately wanted to say.

“Please cum inside me Ulfric, please .” She moaned and felt her entire body weaken as her climax overtook her, gripping the linens below her and stifling loud, uncontrollable moans. Ulfric groaned loudly with pleasure behind her as he collapsed his body over hers and she felt his warm seed spilling into her. His breaths were hot against her back as he rested his forehead down on her, letting every last drop of him spill into her. She knew she would think of that moment until her very last breath. 

She was his, and his alone. And she couldn’t have been more happy with that.

Chapter 40

The road to Falkreath seemed to be endless. Theodora forgot how… dirty it was to be a traveler. Pissing and shitting in holes, washing your pits and clothes in freezing rivers, sleeping when you can, eating when you can, and basically walking dead on your feet for days on end. Except of course, she and Lydia had their trusted horses Raven and Cyrus, to carry them along. So really they mostly had to deal with the constant aching in their thighs from riding all day. 

And of course, Theodora had to deal with the ache of being alone again. She couldn’t exactly avoid thinking of Ulfric when she was fighting in his arsenal, wearing his cuirass, carrying his banners. It seemed every other word uttered by one of the soldiers involved Ulfric’s name, and each time it hit her with an undeniable pang of loneliness. And she hated herself for it. She hated how far she had fallen for this man, how much it killed her to even think of him, how hard it was to keep traveling farther and farther away from him, unsure if she would ever see him again. She tried to avoid thinking about it, to focus solely on the fort, or keeping her eyes glued for any wolves or bandits skulking in the woods. 

But everything ended up coming back to Ulfric. Mostly because she wondered if he truly missed her, or if everything he said was merely an act. Part of her wanted it to be an act, just so she wouldn’t have to miss him so dearly. 

After days and days of never relaxing, waiting to see if they would be ambushed by imperials and reliving Helgen, the hidden camp of Stormcloaks came into sight, tucked off the trail next to a cleared out bear’s cave (still holding rotten skeletons from elk, foxes, and even unfortunate travelers). Theodora sighed slightly in relief, while she still wasn’t convinced Falkreath would be a breeze like her housecarl assured her, it was still reassuring that they had made it there in one piece. Even if it did give her the shudders as she glanced around and the memories of Helgen began to pour over her each time a cold familiar breeze would brush her skin. She was never at ease in this area of Skyrim, even after all the time had passed. 

“I’m going to set up our tents, any preference my thane?” Lydia asked as they tied up their horses and slung their knapsacks over their shoulders. Theodora shook her head and gave Raven one last handful of sugar cubes.

“Preferably not downwind to the horses.” Theodora gave her housecarl a reassuring smile. Ever since they left Windhelm Lydia had been watching her even more closely than normal, she even insisted on accompanying Theodora to relieve herself. And Theodora had to put on her best performance as to not worry her over-attentive housecarl. She wondered if Ulfric had instructed Lydia to never let her out of her sight, that thought made her have to hide her face so no one would see her blushing.

“Ay, dragonborn, a word.”

Her head perked up at the familiar bark of the grump general, otherwise known as Ulfric’s housecarl, otherwise known as the biggest pain in Theodora’s ass since they had left Windhelm.

“Yes, Galmar, what have I done now?” She grumbled under her breath with a sigh, knowing the old grump was just out of earshot. She gave Raven one last pat and wiped her other horse-snot covered hand on her armor as she made her way through the snow-covered camp, trailing closely behind the bobbing bear cap. It still always amused her that the Stormcloak generals dawned bear skins as their armor, but if there was one thing Skyrim was known for, it was its abundance of bears. Not to mention it’s Ulfric’s sigil. She wondered if she’d be pushed to wear one of the silly outfits soon… 

She shook off that thought, she certainly wasn’t general material. She liked just being a duo, not being in charge of the lives of hundreds of men in her command. It was stressful enough keeping an eye on her housecarl.

“Close the flaps.” Galmar grunted over his shoulder as she followed him into the makeshift war-room; a tent larger than all the others (which Theodora thought was a little counterproductive if they wanted to keep a low profile), made of elk and bear skin leathers, with a table similar to Ulfric’s in the center displaying all the holds and keeps of Skyrim, each marked with little red or blue markers to indicate which side they were loyal to, and more importantly, which holds would be their next targets. She had to admit she was grateful Riften was already blue.

She did as he barked and closed the heavy tent flaps behind her, instantly feeling relief from the cold winds. 

“Sit.” He grumbled, kicking one of the spare wooden stools with his steel boot as he stomped to the other side of the war table. She kept from rolling her eyes at his brutishness and plopped down on the cold stool, watching as he sprawled out across from her with an exhausted groan. 

“Ulfric tells me you’ve been to Fort Neugrad before, eh?” Galmar asked as he palmed a glass bottle from the other end of the table and pulled the cork out with a quiet pop . She tried to keep her stomach rumbling to a minimum as he poured himself a goblet and tossed it back like it was water. 

“Yes, a long time ago, Lydia and I both have.” She answered plainly. 

“And? What do you remember of it?” He prodded as he poured more red liquid into his glass. She sighed and tilted her head to the side, her memories flashing through the bandit keeps she and Lydia had cleared out over the year. But she remembered Fort Neugrad clearly, as it was dangerously close to Helgen. She explained everything she remembered; the musty prison in the cellar, the tiny lake seeping into the fort, and the fact that it was very well secluded against the mountains, making it hard to plan a sneak attack. 

“Mm, that’s what the scouts have reported as well. I have a group of men planning how to infiltrate, you said the prison was in the cellar?” Galmar asked.

“Yes, why? Do they have prisoners?” Theodora asked. Galmar frowned and nodded.

“Took a handful of our men, I think they plan to take them back to Solitude for public execution. Or, if what my reports are saying is true, they’re going to use the prisoners as bargaining chips for more resources.” Galmar explained.

“So the fort is weak?” Theodora asked. Galmar nodded again.

“Apparently they’ve been waiting on reinforcements, but old Tullius has been too focused on saving his own hide; he hasn't sent any supplies or men down to help hold Falkreath. Making it the perfect time for us to take the fort with ease.”

“But we want to get in there and free our men before the imperials know we’re here and kill them.” Theodora finished for him.

“Precisely.” Galmar nodded and grabbed another goblet, pouring it full and sliding it across the table for her. She chuckled and ignored the condescending nature of her reward for getting his little riddles right as she took the goblet and sipped it. It was dry and bitter, nothing like the sweet wine she enjoyed at the palace. But she knew she would have to get used to that.

“So send me and Lydia, we know the fort we’ve been there before, and we can wear our spare armor to make it harder to spot us.” Theodora suggested.

“Ha! Absolutely not.” Galmar chuckled gruffly and shook his head.

“Why not ?” She argued furrowing her brow at him and growing even more annoyed at how quickly he was to say no.

“Really dragonborn, you need me to spell it out for you?”

Her heart sank and she swallowed hard, “I’m here , I’m supposed to be helping take the fort.”

“ Helping , not getting yourself killed taking on the entire fort of imperials yourself.” 

“I wouldn’t be by myself. I'd have Lydia, and the prisoners once we free them. Mind you Lydia and I have done this dozens and dozens of times.” She argued further. But Galmar shook his head stubbornly.

“You think I’m a fool?”

“You’re a fool if you think I’m just going to hide here and let all those men and women out there die because you’re too afraid to put me into battle.” She snapped at him. Galmar glared at her in shock but after a moment tossed his head back with a loud chuckle. She wanted to slap him and demand to know what was so funny, but she didn’t dare push her luck any further. 

“Ulfric was very clear with me, dragonborn.” Galmar leaned forward after a moment and brought his voice down to a harsh whisper, “You are to be here if our scouts were given false missives and it turns out the fort has triple the men waiting for an ambush, you are to be a last resort .”

Theodora gawked in offense and shook her head, “And what, watch everyone die around me? I should be on the frontlines Galmar, just like Whiterun, just like Korvanjund.”

Galmar sighed and she could tell she was wearing him down, but it was even more clear the conflict in his eyes.

“Look, I don’t know what Ulfric… said but again, if he was that worried he wouldn’t have sent me. It’s clear he trusts in my capabilities so why not put my capabilities to use ?” She pushed, ignoring the pit in her stomach that grew larger and larger each time she uttered his name. 

Galmar chuckled and shook his head again, “You know, you’re almost as stubborn as he is.”

Theodora couldn’t help but let a small smile break, “So I’ve heard. Look, you said you had some men ready to infiltrate, why don’t you send me and Lydia with them. You know Lydia would never let anything happen to me. And you’re forgetting I have the thu’um, I know many, many shouts. I even have one that turns me completely invisible.”

“Oh yeah? Prove it.”

Theodora chuckled and scrunched her face, “Alright fine you called my bluff there but I’m not lying when I say I can handle this Galmar. Falkreath is immensely smaller than Whiterun, we could have the fort by now if we weren’t having this argument.”

Galmar sighed heavily and rubbed his wrinkled forehead with his hands as Theodora waited nervously for his answer. The more she tried to convince him this was no big deal, the more at ease she became herself. Because it was true, she had many shouts in her arsenal for different situations, the fort was just a fraction of the size of Whiterun, and if there were men already waiting to infiltrate all she had to do was provide backup. 

“Alright dragonborn I’ll make you a deal, the leading soldier on this siege is due to report back this evening. Depending on what he reports, I’ll tell him to include you in on the infiltration. But if you so much as get knocked on your ass once like you did in Whiterun, I’ll be keeping you in my sights until my last breath leaves my lungs, which when Ulfric finds out about this may be sooner than I intend, understood?”

Theodora perked in relief and nodded, “Understood.”

“Good.” 

Theodora sighed and felt better than she expected to, after all she had just agreed to be one of the few infiltrating the fort, but it had been awhile since she had a good bandit raid. And while she didn’t like to focus on the fact she was killing, she more liked to focus on keeping her fellow brothers and sisters alive . She hated sitting back knowing people she cared about would be dying, when she could be there plunging her sword through the opposing soldier’s heart.

And well, the sooner she could get this over with, the sooner she could go back to Windhelm. She could go back to Ulfric, tell him she took the fort without so much as a scratch on her just as she promised, and he’d kiss her so hungrily it would make her forget where she even was. She’d do anything to feel the softness of his lips against hers, the intensity of his grasp as he held her close. 

She hoped the reporting soldier would say there were only a few men left in the fort and all they had to do was free the prisoners and the fort would be theirs. Galmar would take the victory, Ulfric wouldn’t have to know any more than necessary, and she’d be back home. 

Huh, she felt strange referring to Windhelm as home but… it truly had become her home. And if Ulfric’s intentions were true, if he really did love her and intended to marry her, then Windhelm would be her home without a doubt. She had to admit she liked that feeling. After almost two years of being on the run from her so-called home, from her so-called family, she finally had her place.

“Alright, off with you, go eat and sleep and shit before I have to call upon you.” Galmar waved her off as they both heard shuffling outside the general’s tent. Theodora quickly pushed herself up from the rickety stool and wiped any sort of smug expression off her face as she turned to leave, frankly she was rather proud of herself, but she had a feeling Galmar was itching to put her on the battlefield anyway and it wouldn’t have taken much convincing. Which frankly boosted her ego a little more, it had been awhile since she was able to truly show her skills besides training the young soldiers in the courtyard. Once again she held onto the small hope that Ulfric would see her as truly capable and announce their engagement, knowing she could protect herself from any damn imperial or thalmor that tried to capture her.

“General, reporting in.” One of the guards flicked open the tent flap slightly, just enough for his voice to break through, pulling Theodora out of her smug daydream of Ulfric announcing to the entire country he planned to marry the dragonborn and anyone who dared try and harm her would see the wrong end of a chopping block at her hand. 

“Yes yes come in.” Galmar called as Theodora moved to the side, waiting to simply shift by the entering soldier and breeze through the camp to go find Lydia and give her the update. To tell her she was finally over her silly fears and she was ready to just get this over with, to finally tell her closest friend why she was so reluctant to leave Windhelm, why she had been so different lately. She was ready to finally tell Lydia, because she didn’t want to keep denying that Windhelm was her home, that Ulfric was her home. 

Until of course, as quickly as everything seemed to finally fall into place for Theodora, everything came crashing down around her in an instant. 

“Theo?”

No, no, no, no no no, please wake up. This can’t be real .

Chapter 41

“The dunmer are becoming uneasy my lord, they are asking for less patrol through the gray quarters due to an increase in… incidents.”

Ulfric tapped his fingers across his desk and stared blankly into his goblet of wine as his steward sat across from him, rattling off the housekeeping duties that come with being a jarl. He hated this part. Everyone needed something, and no one wanted to give. Everyone hated him because he wasn’t doing enough to help the dark elves, but how would he look if he began to favor the group his supporters despised the most? 

He knew it was wrong, but for the time being, he would keep the dunmer… alive but not show any favoritism or charity. While it made some support him, it made others with bleeding hearts despise him. But, that was the price he was willing to pay for winning this war. 

“Fine. Pull the guards. If they do not wish for protection they will not receive it.” Ulfric grumbled as he tipped back his goblet, “ But keep the guards posted by the docks. I don’t want them getting any funny ideas about smuggling in my city thinking I’m not watching. Send Mardock down to keep an eye on everything.”

“Yes my lord.” Jorlief nodded quickly and scribbled down the words Ulfric had just commanded. So far that afternoon they had discussed the farmers potentially receiving a stipend because of the mass influx of soldiers needing food; a few bounties to put out on some bandit clans that are too close for the townsfolk comfort (a Khajiit band had been robbed a few moons prior, Ulfric had heard an earful from the bleeding heart ‘captain’ Brunwulf asking him to do more for the khajiit. As if there wasn’t a damn war going on).

“Anything else for today?” Ulfric grumbled and rubbed his forehead.

“Er- yes my lord the townsfolk have requested more guards. Apparently there have been some break-ins.”

“Thieves Guild?” Ulfric asked. He perked his attention up slightly. 

“No items have been taken, whoever it is just breaks the locks and tears through the place like they are looking for something.” Jorleif explains.

Or someone. Ulfric thought grimly. He had run into issues with the Thieves Guild in the past, many have tried to even break into the palace (and they left missing a few fingers). But Ulfric has made it very clear to Maven Black-Briar, as much as she coyly denies having an association with the guild, if she does not keep her filthy thieves out of his keep he’ll make sure the war impacts Riften particularly hard. Perhaps even enlisting her pompous sons to fight in his war. 

And since then, he’s heard rumblings mostly from Markarth of goods being stolen. Occasionally town members would gripe that they’ve lost a precious heirloom or ring, but Ulfric can only do so much with petty crimes while a war is ensuing. 

“Curfew is reinstated. And since the damn elves don’t want the protection the guards can spend their time protecting those who do. That’s all for the day, handle matters as you sit fit Jorleif I trust you.”

“Thank you my lord.” Jorleif nodded cordially before scurrying out of the room. Normally Ulfric was amused by his stewards… quirks. How unkempt his mustache was and how he always smelt of stew because he refused to sleep in his own personal quarters but down with the cook (Ulfric didn’t ask questions). But ever since his men left for Falkreath, he’s been rightfully sour and wanting to seclude himself in his study. 

As soon as the heavy door closed behind his steward, Ulfric reached into his pocket and pulled out the seemingly tiny silver ring, turning it over and over in his fingers. He hadn’t rested since he watched her leave the palace doors, giving him one last solemn look as if she were trying to memorize how he looked. He knew how war was, and he knew that was exactly what she was doing. Because she would need to remember it when she was in the trenches of battle, fighting for her life, trying to remember what exactly she was fighting for. 

Only a few times in his life had he regretted decisions when it came to war. He thought he had regret taking his men to Darkwater Crossing, but now he knows that he possibly never would have met Theodora if he hadn’t been captured and brought to Helgen. Would she have been inclined to aid the war if she had not experienced the injustice brought by the Empire first hand? 

At times, he even thought he regretted not marrying when he was younger. He would get a particularly strong ache in his bones, or a soreness in his muscles, or a tiredness in his soul, and he would worry perhaps he had waited too long. If he died, he’d have no heir to pass on his legacy, everything he had worked so hard to accomplish for the good of his people. Before Theodora came along, he nearly gave in to marrying a simple woman, just for the aid of his cause to show how devoted he was to Skyrim. 

But now, he knew he had no regrets. If he had not gone to Darkwater Crossing and surrendered, he never would have met Theodora. He never would have experienced Alduin firsthand as Helgen crumbled around them, giving him a common experience with the Dragonborn. Perhaps she never would have spoken to him longer than thanking him for the wine and receiving her siege orders. 

And he certainly did not regret waiting for marriage in the hopes someone that lit a fire within him came along. He knew, even if he had married a common woman, and Theodora came into his palace he would not be able to resist taking her as his own. She was the fiercest, most caring, devoted, and beautiful warrior he had ever met in his long life. 

But he of course realized, he did have one regret. 

He sent that woman away because his generals told him to. He ignored his own gut, he ignored fate, he ignored the gods, and he sent the only woman he would ever love away to die in his battle. Before he could even call her his own, announce to the entire realm that the dragonborn was his and he was hers, that she was carrying his son and together they would bring honor back to Skyrim as rightful King and Queen. He knew she would be a perfect mother, and he had done everything in his power to make sure that happened. His cock ached just thinking about it, filling her sweet cunt up with his seed every moment he could. And she never denied him. He knew she wanted him just as much as she wanted her. 

Soon he thought to himself, soon she would be in his arms and he would make her ache with so much pleasure the entire keep hears her moans. Soon she will be fat with child, her beautiful stomach round and full of his child. He’d give her as many children as she wanted, he’d fill the entire palace with her babes if it made her happy. He saw the light in her eyes when she helped the young soldiers train, and he could not wait for the day she was training their own sons how to be as fierce in battle as their mother. 

But he had to be patient. He had fought with Galmar over these endlessly. Ulfric didn’t want to send Theodora to battle, he wanted to keep her as his personal housecarl in the palace. And he knew how strongly Galmar felt about that because of how much he fought Ulfric on it. 

“If you pull her from this war, Ulfric, we will lose hundreds more men. If she’s here with you she is just a sitting duck waiting to be slaughtered by a hit from the dark brotherhood, or an imperial spy. If you send her out with me she’s a moving target, she’ll take each fort before the damn spineless fools can even get their breaches on.” Galmar had argued until he was red in the face.

“I could protect her in the palace Galmar, she will be my wife soon and you want me to send her to her death?” Ulfric argued fiercely.

“And get yourself killed in the process?” Galmar berated him,  “The sooner she is sent to battle, the sooner we take Solitude by storm and win this damn war, Ulfric. She won’t be killed, she is the damn Dragonborn for Talos’s sake. She took on Alduin herself. She took on countless other dragons and she lived. And the woman by her side for all of that will continue to be by her side in battle. Lydia won’t let the Dragonborn out of her sight, and frankly neither will I. I wouldn’t want to hear it from you for the rest of my life.” 

Ulfric hated his closest friend at that moment. He hated that he was right. He had spent countless hours weighing the options upon their departure. If he kept Theodora in the palace with him, word would be sent to Tullius that she was not at the battle in Falkreath and they would go looking for her. He couldn’t tell the guards to watch solely over her without raising any questions, and that would put himself at risk.

And while he didn’t particularly care about his own safety, he knew the war would crumble if he did not survive, and they would lose everything they’ve fought for. Theodora, Galmar, Jorleif, all his generals, all his soldiers would be put to death. 

So, he agreed. He would send Theodora to Falkreath. But if she so much as returned with a scratch on her he would pull her, damn the consequences. 

 

Another knock at his door caused Ulfric to groan and rub his temples in frustration; he knew what he was signing on for, fighting a war to be king, soon he would never have a moment's peace. But he didn’t expect it to be such a headache. Perhaps if he wasn’t worried day and night over the well-being of a certain dragonborn, he wouldn’t have such a temper for constant interruptions.

“What now?” Ulfric barked as he slid the silver ring from his hand back into his desk drawer and promptly locked it shut. 

“Apologies my lord er- you have… a visitor.”

Ulfric furrowed his brow and ran through his mind who could possibly be qualified as a ‘visitor’. Jorlief knew to send generals his way, and they would announce themselves. Jorleif also knew to announce any visiting jarls, but no jarl would show up to his palace without a proper notice. No, this was someone else, someone who clearly threw Jorleif off his guard if he was knocking on Ulfric’s door without a proper notice of who was on the other side. Perhaps old Tullius was standing outside waiting to admit defeat. 

With a quick chuckle of amusement at that thought, Ulfric patted his side and felt his war ax hooked on his belt. He kept his hand near the handle as he pushed himself from his desk and quickly stomped over to the door. He then remembered the time he heard a knock at his door at a surprising hour, and when he whipped it open he was met with the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. And he remembered the fear that struck to his core when he saw she had a cut on her head. 

He was a fool, but he had to admit he was hoping to see the familiar shy gaze of his betrothed standing before him as he whipped open the door once more. But standing before him was not Tullius admitting defeat, and it was not Theodora telling him Siddgeir had surrendered and they overtook Falkreath. No, it was just Jorleif, looking as if he saw an army of frostbite spiders.

“I thought I told you to handle matters as you see fit Jorleif, or can I not trust you with that much?” Ulfric grumbled as he saw his steward twitching nervously before him, his posted guards looking uneasy as well as they avoided Ulfric’s gaze.

“No of course not my lord it’s well, there’s someone here who is very insistent on speaking with you.” Jorleif stammered nervously as his voice began to reach a completely unintelligible pitch. Ulfric sighed and pinched between his brow.

“Who is it now? Who is so important you’ve made yourself completely shaken like a beaten mutt?” Ulfric asked with a grunt of annoyance. Jorleif cleared his throat and lowered his head slightly.

“It’s uhm, it’s Lady Elisif, my lord.”

Ulfric narrowed his eyes at his petrified steward, “Either I’ve had too much wine, or you’ve gone completely mad. And frankly I haven’t had enough wine to keep me amused with your antics so it must be the latter.”

“I would never joke of this my jarl I swear by the nines, Lady Elisif is here in the grand hall wishing to speak with you, and you alone.” Jorleif stammered quickly as his mustache twitched with each fumbled word.

“It’s true my jarl, my men on the bridge escorted her into the palace to make sure she didn’t pull anything on behalf of Tullius.” One of his guards chimed in. Ulfric straightened his back and felt a thousand questions pour into his head. What by the gods was the widow Lady Elisif doing in Windhelm, and even more importantly, what was she doing demanding to speak to Ulfric? Was she here on behalf of Tullius? Did old Tullius even know the lady had left her little throne? Was she here to beg Ulfric to end the war? Or were all of his men mistaken and she was just an assassin in disguise attempting to get Ulfric alone? Regardless, Ulfric needed to find out, and perhaps he would get something out of it in return. 

“Well, it would be rude not to greet the lady. Jorleif, tell her I’ll be right down,” Ulfric responded as he grew eager with curiosity, “Wouldn’t want to keep her waiting.”

Chapter 42

Theodora felt as if an ice wraith had slivered up her back and tightened around her neck. Everything seemed to go surreal, as if she had used her shout to slow time and the world around her had completely stopped. But she hadn’t moved, she hadn’t said anything. All she could do was try and pinch herself awake. 

There, standing before her, was the man she once loved. His gray-blue eyes staring back at her and suddenly, she felt as if she were at Helgen again. She could practically feel the smoke clogging her lungs, the deafening screams of burning citizens, and the feel of his hand wrapped around her wrist pulling her along.

“Dragonborn, you’re dismissed .”

Theodora snapped back and realized Galmar was barking at her. She didn’t know how long she had been standing there completely frozen, paralyzed with haunting memories and the even more terrifying reality. Ralof was alive. He was standing before her, calling her Theo as if no time had passed, as if nothing was different. 

She turned and forced her legs to move, quickly escaping the suffocating tent and letting the cold wind bring her back to reality. She sucked in a huge breath and ran her hands over her face as she cursed under her breath. Fuck, what is he doing here? He’s alive?! And he’s… here. In Falkreath. Ralof is… alive. 

The words kept repeating over and over in her mind as her head kept spinning. Her stomach was in knots, and she made it to the edge of camp just in time before the bile creeped up and she lost her meal all over the muddy snow. She groaned as she gripped her fingers on her bent knees, steadying herself from completely falling over. 

Ralof was here, he was alive. Meaning the last year, as Theodora traveled the country waiting to see if she would come home to a letter, or hoping to run into him in each city she visited, or pleading with the gods the war would end so he would come home and they could be together, Ralof was alive and seemingly well and completely unbothered. He was just… carrying on as normal. 

“My thane? Are you alright?”

Theodora quickly wiped the bile from her mouth and tried to stand up, “Oh I’m fine Lyd.”

Theodora sighed as Lydia quickly trotted over to her side and inspected her, her face crumpled with concern as she eyed Theodora up and down. 

“Gods my thane you look awful.”

“Why thank you Lyd.” Theodora groaned, unable to offer even a small chuckle to reassure her housecarl. She met Lydia’s concerned gaze and gave her housecarl the very rarely used cue that something is wrong . 

“Come on, I’ve got the tent set up just around back.” Lydia said quietly as she gently laced her fingers around Theodora’s arm and ushered her along. They quickly made their way through the camp as Theodora focused solely on not heaving any more, or letting her legs give out as they so desperately pleaded to. 

As soon as the tent flaps closed behind them Theodora collapsed on her already made bedroll and grabbed the bedside bucket to keep heaving. Nothing but air and stomach acid came out, because she barely had the appetite to eat anything since leaving Windhelm, but her stomach wouldn’t rest. 

“Here my thane, drink this.” Lydia said quietly as she popped the cork off a small healing potion and shoved it towards Theodora. 

“I don’t need a healing potion, Lyd.” Theodora groaned but took it anyway and sipped it meagerly, hoping she didn’t immediately puke it back up. She rolled back onto her bottom and held the bucket between her legs as Lydia settled down next to the entrance of the tent, making sure her ear was craned for anyone who might get too close to hear.

“What’s wrong?” Lydia asked after a few moments had passed and it was clear the rest of the soldiers were either sleeping themselves, or piled around the campfire hoping for more mead and warm stew. 

“I- it’s nothing Lydia really.” 

“My thane there are a great many things you are good at, but lying is not one of them. Archery? One of the best nords I’ve ever met. Slicing a man’s artery open before he even realizes you’re there? Even the Dark Brotherhood would be jealous of your skill. But lying? Well my thane I can read you like a book made for school children.”

And yet, Theodora had successfully deceived her housecarl for months. Maybe she was better at lying than she gave herself credit for… But she was tired of lying. She was tired of having to pretend and keep things bottled up from the one person she wanted to tell everything to. She tried to make the words come out of her mouth but she didn’t even know where to begin. Lydia knew of Ralof, she knew Theodora had been awfully sour over him even as much as she tried to keep her pining to closed doors and to the parchment of her journal.

“Ralof is here… he’s alive. I just ran into him.” Theodora admitted quietly. Lydia scrunched her face in confusion for a split second until realization hit her. 

“Wait, Ralof… as in the same Ralof who was in Helgen with you and…”

“Yes, that Ralof.”

“But… I thought… well I thought he was dead.” 

“So did I.” Theodora said bitterly as she felt her entire face flushing with anger, “I hadn’t heard from him since… well since shortly after he left Riverwood before I became thane. He sent that one letter and that was all.” 

Lydia grew quiet for a few moments and Theodora knew the cogs were churning in her brain.

“What?” Theodora prodded. Lydia sighed and shrugged her shoulders.

“Well my thane, I mean, isn’t this… well couldn’t this be a good thing?”

“A good thing?!” Theodora scoffed and shook her head, “How in all of nirn could this be a good thing?”

Lydia hesitated but Theodora glared and gestured with her hands for her to spit it out already. Lydia sighed and cleared her throat.

“The man you love is alive my thane, he’s been at war all this time and he’s still alive and what are the odds you both are sent to the same camp? The gods could be bringing you together again.”

Theodora felt all the blood drain from her face as Lydia spoke the words she had truly feared. Theodora had prayed to the gods for months for Ralof to be brought back to her, so they could be together again. She endlessly dreamt of being in Ralof’s arms again, to see his goofy boyish smile, to hear him call her Theo, to make love to him again. She would have sold her soul to any dremora or daedra just to be with him again. 

And yet, it seems Sanguine, the daedric prince of debauchery, has answered her prayers. But only after she moved on. Only after she promised herself to another. 

“Lydia… I… well I don’t love Ralof anymore okay I’ve moved on. It’s just hard… I don’t know how to explain it.” Theodora sighed and rubbed her face with exhaustion. 

“Really? Why’d you toss your meal then? Doesn’t seem like a reaction to seeing someone you’re ‘over’.” Lydia pointed out smugly. 

“Because I thought he was dead! It was just a surprise that’s all.”

Lydia glared at her thane and shook her head, making Theodora even more furious. 

“Look Lydia I don’t love Ralof okay? I’ve moved on I… well I promised myself to another.”

Lydia snorted as if Theodora was merely teasing, “What are you talking about my thane?”

Theodora frowned and knew it was time to come clean. But her stomach lurched and she needed air. And something felt off, like they were being watched. Theodora pushed the bucket to the side.

“Wait… do you hear that?” Theodora frowned and quickly scurried to her feet.

“You’re changing the subject my thane.” Lydia scoffed as she followed Theodora out of their tent. Theodora framed her hand over her brow and looked around, something felt… off. More than it already had. The air was quiet, almost completely still and stale. She glanced around and all the soldiers were carrying on with their chores of chopping wood or sharpening swords, no one seemed to be bothered or concerned. 

But something wasn’t right.

And then she realized, perhaps Ralof’s arrival was merely a coincidence, but it wasn’t the reason she felt a cold shiver down her spine. 

“What is it Theodora?” Lydia asked as she stared in concern at her Thane.

“Go get Galmar, now .” Theodora whispered harshly to Lydia.

Lydia’s eyes widened and suddenly she realized. But it was too late. Everything was calm, until it wasn’t. 

“By the gods… Dragon!”

Chapter 43

Everything happened in a blur as smoke filled the camp and flames lit the trees. Theodora darted and grabbed her bow and quiver, slinging it over her shoulder and drawing the first arrow. She squinted her eyes through the cloud of smoke and ignored the heat burning her face as she paced around the burning bushes trying to get a clear line of sight. Finally she spotted it circling above. Massive, with a body the color of wet clay, and it had laid its eyes on their camp. 

Get the wings get the wings get the wings Theodora muttered to herself as she quickly fired off arrow after arrow in succession. She wanted it to land, she knew her fellow nords weren’t the best of archers but were skilled in hand to hand combat. If she could get it near enough she could force it to land and then-

“Gah! What are you-” Theodora yelped in surprise as she felt a massive hand harshly pull her out of the opening and behind a massive boulder. She tried to fling her body free until she realized it was the old bear-head general himself, his face the color of the flames as he forced her to the ground.

“You better stay out of sight of that damned dragon.” He bellowed at her over the shouts of the soldiers.

“Are you serious ? Galmar I need to get out there and kill that damn beast, mind you that’s kind of what I do !” She yelled back at him as she ripped her arm out from his grasp.

“Listen to me dragonborn, I promised I’d bring you back alive -”

“So let me save all these men from being burned alive and to a crisp, Galmar we can’t afford to lose all these men we’d lose Falkreath!” Theodora bellowed at him as she pushed herself off the ground. Galmar glared at her with his face turning the color of snowberries as his eyes darted around the sky.

“You’ll die a much worse death than anything Ulfric could do to you if you don’t let me kill this damn beast, I’ve killed dozens of dragons, have you ?” Theodora continued as she could hear the dragon swooping down letting out a dangerous breath of fire.

“Fine, FINE! I swear to the gods woman. What do we need to do?” Galmar bellowed as he slung his war hammer off his shoulder. Theodora exhaled and readied her bow once more, her heart was beating into her ears and her mind was in complete shambles. 

“If we can get a clearing I can force the bastard to land, then all the men can attack by hand. I don’t imagine we can kill it with archers alone with this group.” Theodora rattled off quickly. Galmar nodded and sprung into action quickly.

“CLEAR OUT! GIVE THE BASTARD ROOM TO LAND!” Galmar shouted in a near deafening pitch. Theodora nodded and quickly darted from behind the boulder watching as the men began to back up into the tree line. It would be in the center of camp, but it was big enough to get it to land. She waited, watching the beast continue to circle with its slightly wounded wings still gliding it through the smoky air. And then it came into perfect line.

“ JOOR ZAH-FRUL”

A deafening crack bursted through the air as a strong gust of wind grasped the beast in its might, dragging the dragon's massive body out of the safety of the air and towards the ground. Theodora watched as it began to writhe in panic, her throat weak from her thu’um but her adrenaline pumping through her veins readying her to shout again and again. 

“ATTACK!” Galmar bellowed followed by a sea of warcries from her fellow nords. Theodora took one last breath before plunging in as well. Sinking arrow after arrow into any part of weakened scales she could find, hoping she wouldn’t miss and kill one of her fellow soldiers, hoping that just one more arrow would finish off the beast and she could devour it’s soul and completely recharge her body and mind. With a dragon soul consumed she’d be ready to take Falkreath by herself. She’d be ready to go back to Windhelm without stopping to look back, without stopping to think. 

She drew another arrow but suddenly felt her body being flung backwards, the air knocked out of her lungs, and then flames everywhere completely suffocating the air around her. 

I can’t believe I survived Alduin twice, just to be killed by some regular dragon. The gods really have a fucked sense of humor.

Chapter 44

Notes:

Ulfric POV

Ulfric ran his hand over his beard as he stomped down his private corridor and prepared to welcome in a guest who besides Tullius and any Thalmor justice, would be considered the least welcome guest to arrive in his palace. But, for all he knew she could be admitting defeat and about to hand over precious intel. Not that he would believe a word she said, but at the very least he would be amused for a few moments. 

His guards were uneasy, he could tell they were tense as they nodded at him breezing by. He tried to remember the last time he saw the fair lady herself, and he knew of course it was that day in Solitude when he defeated her coward husband in a duel. He barely remembered her, but he did remember being completely unmoved by her presence. She was a lady of high born, Ulfric knew that was the only reason she married Tullius, because everything else about her was completely common. She had no thoughts of her own, she had no beauty to her, and she was weak, pitiful. 

And to think, some people want her to be Queen. Ulfric huffed slightly in amusement as he reached the doors. 

It took a moment for his eyes to focus in on Elisif, she stood with her hands clasped and her back straight as poignant and stoic as she could muster. Ulfric could see her trembling with fear from across the room, which only amused him more. Next to her of course stood a decorated imperial general, a redguard by the looks of it, and Ulfric couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the audacity of bringing an imperial general into his palace. They’d be lucky to leave alive, she better have something damn important to say. 

“Lady Elisif, to what do I owe this… uninvited visit?” Ulfric asked, letting his voice boom through the grand hall causing Elisif’s frail figure to shudder as he grew closer. As she came more into his sight, he was surprised to see his memory had failed him. She truly was more unimpressive than he remembered. Her pale skin was graying, the circles under her eyes were nearly purple. Her thin wispy hair was barely even braided, hiding underneath a fur hood. He could practically see her teeth chattering from the unforgiving winds of Windhelm. Weak he thought to himself, any true nord had no issue with the cold. And Elisif certainly was no true nord. 

“Jarl Ulfric I apologize for the improper notice.” Elisif spoke, her voice wavering as her guard tensed. Ulfric ignored the redguard completely, keeping his stare directly on Elisif, he knew he made her nervous and he wanted her to feel nervous, to feel unwelcome. 

“I trust you aren’t expecting a welcome party. Now what is it you want, I’m a very busy man you know.” Ulfric grumbled at her tossing all of his jarl politics and niceties aside. He watched as she nervously straightened her posture and kept everything she wanted to say inside. She needed something from him, that much was very clear.

“Yes I know, would we be able to speak in private?” Elisif cleared her throat. Ulfric narrowed his eyes on her and clicked his tongue. 

“Your guard stays here.” He said sternly. He heard the redguard scoff immediately and open her mouth to argue with her lady but Elisif held up a tiny, weak hand and waved her off. Ulfric raised his brow and nodded towards his guards, who were encroaching in ready to leap in front to protect him if need be. But Ulfric could disarm the redguard before she even had a chance to reach for her sword, and her precious lady would be dead. 

“In my study.” Ulfric barked at her and briskly turned to retreat. He wouldn’t escort her like a lady, if she wanted to play politics he was going to treat her like a dirty lying general who’d be lucky to leave alive. 

He shot looks to his posted guards to be at ease even though he knew they would be ready to throw Elisif in the nearest cell if she so much as raised her voice to him. He heard her trailing sheepishly behind him as he breezed through the corridor and opened the door to his study, quickly glancing to make sure no intel was out. But he knew better, he always locked everything away when he wasn’t in the room. 

“What do you want?” Ulfric asked bluntly as he closed the door behind her frail figure. She jumped at the sound of the door closing shut and he rolled his eyes once more. Pathetic . He walked over and sat behind his desk as she remained standing. 

“You’re making great strides in the war, Ulfric, I’m not a fool, I can see that. Tullius is…,” She hesitated and let a small chuckle escape her lips, “ nervous.” 

Ulfric narrowed his eyes on the frail widow, “You’re a fool if you think I’d believe any word you uttered. Is that why you’re here, to try and shake my confidence?”

Elisif inhaled sharply and he could tell she was trying to keep her expression neutral. She cleared her throat and glanced down at the chair next to her.

“May I sit?”

“If you must.” Ulfric grumbled at her. She cordially sat on the edge of the chair looking as if she sat on a pin cushion, her face sour as she folded her hands in her lap and cleared her throat once more.

“As you know, I am acting Jarl of Haafingar. While I may not have the proper training, I feel as though I have come to stride with my role as jarl. My people respect me, they look to me to keep them safe while the war progresses.”

Ulfric scoffed, cutting her off, “Your people pity you, Elisif. My people respect me because I am worth respecting. I am fighting to bring back their freedom, you sit on your throne playing the role of weeping widow and let your spineless steward call all the shots.” Ulfric spoke curtly.

Elisif crumpled her face and tried to regain her composure, “I would not risk my life coming here just to discuss our differing opinions, Ulfric.”

“Then why are you here, speak quickly before I lose my patience and throw both you and that damn redguard in a cell never to be seen again.” Ulfric barked at her. Elisif pursed her lips and exhaled sharply as Ulfric waited to see if he had tested her patience; he wanted to see if she would snap and slip, say something he could use against Tullius. 

“I have come here, to ask… for your mercy.” Elisif spoke carefully after a moment. Ulfric felt a dark chuckle erupt as he was unable to contain his amusement.

“You truly do think I’m a fool.”

“No, Ulfric I do not.” Elisif added quickly, sitting a little straighter but her face looking even more strained, “I can see how the war is progressing, it is clear… well it is clear you’ve made great strides in your cause. Many rally behind you, including many of my own people. And while I do not… condone the war I understand… your reasonings. While you may not believe my people do respect me, they’ve come to support and love me as their jarl, and I would be… eternally grateful and… loyal if you were to spare me.”

Ulfric found himself shaking his head as Elisif continued on, he could sense the panic in her voice. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He had ran through with Galmar numerous times what he would do with the lady Elisif herself when they won the war. Galmar wanted a public execution, just as they had done to the guard who helped Ulfric flee after he defeated Torygg in battle. But Ulfric knew that would only paint him as a tyrant. But he never imagined the lady herself would be sitting before him, in his palace, completely unguarded, begging for mercy. He almost thought it was some comical dream.

But if it were a dream, the dragonborn would be by his side once more. No, he knew this was reality.

“And I’m sure Tullius received the same heartfelt spiel.” Ulfric huffed at her. 

“No, Tullius does not respect me, he does not listen to me.”

“And what makes you think I will?” Ulfric shot at her. Elisif inhaled quickly and mustered a small, pathetic smile.

“I know you are not a bad man, Ulfric. I know why you… did what you thought was right in Solitude that day-”

“You don’t get to waltz into my palace and insult me Elisif.” He bellowed at her slamming his fist down on his desk, causing the frail widow to practically fall off her chair. 

“I do not mean to insult you, Ulfric please. I can prove my loyalty to you. I did not speak with Tullius about coming here, he does not even know I’m here and frankly, I doubt he’s noticed I’ve left the palace. He hides away all day in Castle Dour, he doesn’t listen to me, he doesn’t listen to his generals. I told him you were going after Whiterun and he ignored me. I begged him to offer a deal with you to spare my people’s lives and he tossed me out like a dog.”

Ulfric listened to each word as he concentrated on Elisif’s sorrowful expression; she could be faking it, giving him lies to inflate his confidence. But she could also be telling the truth. And now he needed to figure out which was the reality. 

“Prove your loyalty how ?” Ulfric asked, narrowing his eyes on her. He could see her body instantly tense. 

“I have a proposition for you.” Elisif cleared her throat after a moment. Her gray skin became even shockingly paler as if all the blood had drained from her face. Ulfric kept his expression plain as he waited to see what sort of pathetic plea she could muster in exchange for her safety. Ulfric wouldn’t admit to her he was planning on keeping her alive regardless; she was weak, malleable, and it was even more clear now she’d do anything to save her own hide. 

“I’m listening.” Ulfric said curtly. 

“If you win this war. If Tullius surrenders and the Empire is driven from Skyrim… I ask you spare me and… in exchange… I’d propose marriage.”

Ulfric had to contain his amusement, “And who do you propose to marry?”

Elisif sighed shortly but refused to let herself be annoyed, “Only half of my people support you Ulfric, if half. But they all support and respect me, they see me as rightful Queen. If you want the entirety of Solitude, and the entirety of Skyrim to support you as… king. I’d propose you make me queen.”

Ulfric tapped his fingers against his desk as he stared into Elisif’s unwavering gaze. He couldn’t believe the words she just said, the proposal she made. He wanted to laugh in her face and throw her out on her ass, see if she made it back to her precious palace before his men figured out who she was and captured her. But she posed an… interesting thought. 

One of the challenges he frequently encountered in gaining more supporters was the “rightfulness” to him becoming king. Many (more than he cared to admit) saw Elisif as the rightful Queen because she was married to Torygg. But the moot could elect whoever they wanted, and Ulfric didn’t understand why they were stuck on the “rightfulness”. 

He planned to spare her, because he knew the country saw her as a martyr, and it would make him look compassionate but not too compassionate (he wouldn’t extend the same courtesy to Tullius). But marriage? To… Elisif . It made him sick to the thought. He already had the Jagged Crown, how much more did he need to do to solidify his true right as king? 

But he didn’t need Elisif. Her people may respect her, but there was one woman who was beloved more than Elisif. One woman who will have songs written about her for generations. The defeater of the world eater Alduin. The one he already intended to marry. A true Queen. 

But he couldn’t very well admit he had promised himself to another. He knew Elisif was not true to her word, once Tullius figured out where she had been he would certainly interrogate her. And she doesn’t have the spine to keep intel to herself. 

But he didn’t dare lie and say he agreed to her proposal. Then the country would see him as a man with no integrity, no honor. 

“If you’ve said your piece, you can leave.” Ulfric said coldly. Elisif furrowed her brow in confusion and exhaled.

“But…”

“If you think I’m going to believe a word you’ve said, you’re more of a fool than your cowardly husband. You say this proves your loyalty but it proves nothing other than you just want to save your own skin.” Ulfric pushed himself up from his desk and slowly walked to the other side, standing directly in front of the quivering widow as he spoke slowly but forcefully, “You say your people respect you, they’ll lose all respect the second you announce your engagement to the man they detest the most. You’re a martyr, you’re just a symbol to them. You are certainly no queen.”

He expected Elisif to shudder at his words, perhaps even break down sobbing like she did the last time he saw her, craning over her husband's dead and pathetic body. He remembered her pleading to Talos to save him, and yet she supports an empire ruling against him. Pathetic .

But Elisif sat with her back straight, her posture unwavering, “Perhaps I can… prove my loyalty to you Ulfric.”

Ulfric threw his head back and laughed, he thought he had enough surprises for the day. But Elisif did not back down. He watched as she unfolded her trembling hands and began to untie her robes. But Ulfric scoffed and shook his head.

“I’m no rapist, woman.” 

“You wanted me to prove my loyalty?” Elisif breathed shakily as she continued to pull off her thick layers of fine clothing, letting them fall off her shoulders and down to her hips. Ulfric grit his teeth as his mind wandered. Elisif, the supposed queen , was offering herself to him like a pig to slaughter. She was so adamant on proving her loyalty she was willing to let him fuck her. 

“Well, then I’ll prove it.” She added with a small shaky breath after he remained silent. He glanced down at her completely bare chest. To no surprise, she was completely and utterly disappointing. But she still was a woman. And he was a man. A powerful man who needed to prove a point. 

After all, he wasn’t married yet.

Chapter 45

She tried to open her eyes but smoke completely consumed her. Surely she couldn’t be dead, she had been to Sovngarde and it wasn’t as suffocating and intolerable as the air she was currently breathing.

“Move!”

Theodora felt her body being lunged once more and the air started to clear up. She sucked in painful breaths and choked on the soot caking her throat. She felt something grabbing her as she pulled her mind back from whatever realm it had disappeared to.

“What the- get off of me!” She bellowed as she realized someone was pinning her down. And not just any someone. The person she wanted to see the least at that very moment.

“Get down!” He yelled as a burst of fire seemed to engulf them. She found herself instinctively grabbing onto him, pulling his body close to avoid the flames. And she hated herself as she started to realize where she was, and what was happening. 

The dragon was still attacking the camp, and Ralof was shielding her from the fire. His arms wrapped around her body as he pinned her behind the mountainside, keeping her from being burned alive. 

“Let go of me, I need to get my bow!” Theodora groaned as she elbowed Ralof with all her might and tried to break her body free.

“Are you insane? Get down !”

Theodora jabbed Ralof as hard as she could and flung herself out of his grasp, her eyes frantically searching for the glisten of her bow. Panic began to consume her as she heard deafening cries of men being burned alive. It was Helgen all over again. She was without her weapon and everyone around her was dying.

“Lydia.” Theodora reminded herself where she was and who she needed to look for. She sprinted through the smog and hoped to not trip over any writhing bodies as she choked in the polluted air. She needed to find Lydia. 

“Lydia!” Theodora called out as soon as she could breathe in without suffocating. She was on the edge of the open field as she regained her composure. But she wasn’t sure anyone could hear her over the cries of the beast having arrows plunged in it’s scales. 

Get your ass out there! She screamed at herself as she fumbled for her sword. If she didn’t have her bow, she’d have to make do. After all it wouldn’t be the first time a dragon knocked her on her ass and she lost her first choice of weapon. 

She weaved through the nords attacking the panicking beast with all their might, shouting so loud she was sure her ears would be ringing for weeks, but she didn’t stop until she was close enough to feel the scorching heat from the dragon’s mouth. Its massive jaws opening and snapping shut trying to ward off the nords plunging their swords into its body, its tail hitting hard against the ground causing a few bodies to lose their balance. But Theodora refused to let the beast knock her down. She knew the dance of the dragon all too well. And from the sight of the crimson blood pooling into the wet dirt, and the gargled shouts coming from the beast’s jaws, she knew it would only take a few more crucial hits to take it down. 

She lunged forward and plunged her sword deep into the belly of the beast, blood spurting all over her armor and skin as it recoiled. Theodora flung herself out of the way as its tail whipped around in an attempt to hit her, barely missing her and knocking out a few soldiers in its path. She glanced around and saw perhaps she was the only one close enough to the beast now, she’d have to take the chance while she could and hope no one was in the path.

“Rill VAAZ ZOL.”

A deafening cry echoed in the air as a striking force curled around the beast and strangled what little life was left, crushing the dragon’s bones and soul as it plummeted to the ground in defeat. 

Theodora fell to the ground. Her head was spinning as she clutched her chest and tried to breathe life back into her lungs. She felt completely frozen, weak, unable to move. And then the sweet breath of life filled her chest. She had torn the soul out of the beast. All of her aches, all of her worries seemed to vanish as she regained her strength. 

Until of course she was brought back down from her high and realized where she was, and what had just happened. A dragon had attacked camp. Ralof was alive. She wasn’t sure which of those facts haunted her more. 

“My thane!”

Theodora pushed herself up from the ground and quickly looked around for her nord friend, feeling even more relieved that she was still alive for another day.

“I’m alright Lyd.” Theodora called out breathlessly as she gained her footing. The corpse of the beast was still, cold, and haunting as it had disintegrated into bones and scales. All of the remaining soldiers, which thankfully there were still quite a few, gathered around in awe and shock. She wondered if any of them had been unfortunate enough to see a dragon before, and by the looks on their pale nord faces, she knew the answer was no. And she ignored the gazes of wonder and the murmurs of dragonborn as they gathered nearby, even though she had taken down the beast she wasn’t in a mood for celebrating. Because she could still feel the hot grasp of Ralof around her. She knew he was still around somewhere. And she had no idea what to say to him. Theodora shook off that dreadful thought and smiled as her housecarl stepped over the large dragon bone sticking out of the ground and embraced her thane in a tight squeeze. Theodora sighed in relief as she wrapped her arms tightly around her dear housecarl and thanked Talos under her breath.

“Oh gods my thane are you alright?!”

Theodora glanced down as Lydia pulled away in horror and realized she was drenched in the dragon’s blood, making it look like she had cut every inch of her body. She chuckled and wiped her brow with the cleanest part of her wrist.

“I’m fine Lyd, what about you are you alright?”

“I am now, thought I lost you there for a moment.” Lydia exhaled and Theodora could see the deep worry in her brow.

“Please, you can’t get rid of me that easily.” Theodora patted her friend reassuringly. She glanced around and felt relieved as she made eye contact with the old general, who looked to immediately relax as he saw her alive and well. And she didn’t dare look around and farther. She couldn’t stomach the dead bodies scattered around her, and she didn’t know if she dreaded more seeing Ralof alive, or seeing him dead on the ground. Either way she kept her eyes to herself as she and Lydia made their way out of the clearing and back towards what was left of camp.

Chapter 46

The troops spent the evening in shock. Theodora ate the stew Lydia forced down her throat, and vice versa as they waited for Galmar to gather his footing. Theodora wasn’t sure what was going to happen. They had lost a handful of men, and a dozen more injured. It was going to make taking Falkreath more difficult. 

“It couldn’t have struck the damn fort, that would’ve saved us all the hassle.” Lydia sighed and stretched out on her bedroll. They both had inspected each other for injuries, and thankfully between the two of them they only had minor bruising and scratches. Nothing a sip of a healing potion couldn’t cure in a second. Theodora wasn’t sure when exactly her luck was going to run out and one of them was going to get seriously injured. Especially now that they were in a war. 

“Well, once word reaches the imperials they’ll know we’re here. We’re basically fucked.” Theodora responded gruffly as she scrubbed her blood stained armor with soap in a small bucket she had filled with nearby frozen river water. Her hands were cracking from the cold but she welcomed the pain as a distraction. 

“Maybe, but we’re still rather far out from the fort. Maybe no one saw the beast attacking in the middle of the woods. And if they did they could’ve assumed it was a band of hunters.”

“A band of hunters took down a dragon?” Theodora chuckled, “I shouted twice, I imagine someone heard that. No hunter in all of Oblivion can shout. Not that I’ve run into at least.”

Lydia went quiet for a moment as Theodora scrubbed and scrubbed, even though the freezing water had already completely turned red and her fingers had lost all feeling. She didn’t want to think about the matter at hand. She didn’t want to think about what would happen if she left the tent and ran into Ralof again. She didn’t want to think about what he would say to her. She didn’t want to think about the fact that the plan to take Falkreath was out the window and she would potentially be away from Windhelm much longer than she anticipated. She didn’t want to think about any of it. 

“My thane I don’t think it’s coming out.”

Theodora groaned and threw her armor on the ground, wiping her frozen hands on her clothes in defeat. 

“Are we going to talk about-,”

“No.” Theodora cut off abruptly. Lydia huffed in disagreement and perched herself up on her elbows.

“Oh come on my thane it’s obvious you’re avoiding the subject why can’t we just talk about it.”

“Because there’s nothing to talk about.”

“What do you mean there’s nothing to talk about!”

“Lydia, I mean it.”

“Well there’s certainly nothing else for us to do until Galmar gets his head on straight.” 

“Lydia please . We have no privacy here.” Theodora whispered harshly. Lydia snickered and shook her head.

“Oh please, you think those men are going to listen to our gossip? We all hear each other snore, shit, and piss, do you think anyone cares?”

Theodora groaned and threw her head back, “I’m going to get fresh water.”

“Oh I can do that-,”

“No, Lydia. You need to rest, you're more banged up than I am.”

Lydia opened her mouth to argue but Theodora was already pushing herself out of the tent into the cold evening air. She had on her old spare pair of armor that felt more tight than normal, probably due to the lavish meals she had been enjoying at the palace, and she hoped a certain someone was not waiting to ambush her. 

But most of the men were either sleeping or drinking away their sorrows by the blazing fire. No loud jabbering was going on that evening as shock still plagued everyone. It was the most quiet she’d ever seen a clan of Stormcloaks before. 

Her eyes wandered to Galmar’s tent and she wondered what the old man was doing. If he too was sitting in stunned silence, or if he was panicking. He didn’t seem like the panicking type but dragons bring out sides of people never before seen. Usually it just showed who the true cowards were. 

She threw the bloody water into the bushes and hoped it would lure a fat bear for them to kill and eat (fatty bear meat would certainly liven up spirits) but she didn’t veer towards the river. No, she knew if she gave Galmar too long he’d change his mind again. 

“Come in dragonborn.” Galmar sighed in exhaustion as the guard posted announced her arrival. She pushed open the tent flaps and saw the old man scribbling something furiously down on a piece of parchment. He had a bandage on his head and she wondered if he was more hurt than she initially thought. But before she could say anything he swung back his bottle of wine and she knew he was fine after all. 

“I thought I told you all to rest.” Galmar grumbled as she invited herself to sit across from him once more. 

“Too much adrenaline.” She lied, “I want to take the fort Galmar.”

“Ha! You’re a funny girl. A funny funny girl.”

“I’m serious .” Theodora insisted as Galmar set down his quill and rubbed his forehead.

“Were you also hit in the head? Did you forget everything that happened this afternoon?” 

“ No we were attacked, I remember quite well I was the one to deal the killing blow remember? All the more reason to take the fort now.”

“Go look at all the men out there and tell me if going to battle tonight sounds like a good idea.” Galmar grumbled harshly at her as he shook his head.

“I don’t need men . I need myself.” She asserted forcefully, feeling even more adamant the more Galmar argued with her. 

“My my you’re awfully sure of yourself this evening. Perhaps the dragon soul went straight to your head.”

“All the more reason.” She repeated stubbornly, “You’ve no idea what I’m capable of after consuming a dragon soul. Before I took on Alduin I defeated three of his disciples, all by myself. I can take on a few gods damned imperials.”

Galmar groaned and stared at her, as if he was trying to decide if he should be impressed or just annoyed by her persistence. She didn’t care, she wanted to take the damn fort. She wanted Falkreath to be theirs, and she wanted to go back to Windhelm. 

“And what happens when you get there and they capture you?” Galmar grumbles after a long pause. Theodora straightened up, she was making progress. 

“They won’t. It’s nighttime. They won’t even see me coming. I’ll be inside the fort before they know what’s happening and half their men will already be dead.” She said quickly, “Besides, didn’t you say they had some of our men captured?”

Galmar grumbled and nodded.

“Exactly, the longer we wait the more likely it is that those men will lose their heads.” She added wincing slightly at the thought. 

Galmar sighed and continued to stare at her, neither of them backing down. After a long tense moment the old general scoffed and tossed back a huge gulp of wine.

“This is either the head injury or the wine talking but fine . You so much as run into a rabid horker out there you get yourself to safety you hear me? Ulfric will be in rare form if I report I’ve lost the dragonborn.” Galmar grumbled admitting defeat. Theodora tried to hide her satisfaction with winning the argument as she quickly nodded. She also had to resist pointing out there wouldn’t possibly be any horkers around for hundreds of miles, but she kept that thought to herself.

“Yes yes it won’t be a problem. I’ll leave right away.” She cleared her throat and stood up from her chair, quickly turning to leave before Galmar had a chance to change his mind. 

“And take your housecarl with you.”

Theodora stopped, exhaling deeply knowing it had been too easy, there had to be a catch.

“I can’t take Lydia with me she’s exhausted after the dragon battle.” She argued. Galmar grumbled and waved her off.

“Either you take your housecarl or you don’t go at all dragonborn and that’s final .” Galmar snapped at her as she opened her mouth to argue more. Theodora groaned but grit her teeth, all she had to do was get Lydia away from camp, she very well could tell her to post guard well outside the fort barrier. Galmar would never know. Though that would be an even more difficult conversation with her stubborn housecarl herself. 

“Fine.” Theodora hissed and turned to leave once more.

“And one other thing.” Galmar added. Theodora sighed and rolled her eyes, making sure her back was turned so Galmar could not see. She slowly turned and cocked her head, waiting for him to add what other ridiculous condition he had that she would “agree” to but not actually follow through with. Would he request she go back to Windhelm for approval from Ulfric himself before going? Would he request she bring back the head of every imperial there? Would he request she write a ballad of her battle?

“Bring Ralof with you, he knows the fort better than anyone at this point.”

Theodora felt like her throat was closing as she froze, glaring at Galmar in disbelief. She had been so close to leaving, she should have just ignored his last remarks and ran off before he could yell for her. 

No, I am absolutely not bringing… Ralof. I can’t. I can’t do that. She wanted to argue, but if she did she would have to explain why she didn’t want to bring Ralof. Well you see Galmar he fucked me and then abandoned me the next morning without even saying goodbye. And then I only heard from him once while he’s been traipsing around Skyrim. I thought he was dead and I pined for him for months before… 

No, she couldn’t admit all that. She hadn’t even told Ulfric those details. All she had told him was that there was no other man in her life. Which was true. But at that moment she felt as though she committed a crime. Now that Ralof was alive, now that she knew he was alive, suddenly it all became very real once more. No longer just a daydream in her mind. 

“I won’t take him.” She responded. Galmar groaned loudly and pointed his ink stained finger at her as if she were a child being scolded for not cleaning her room. 

“Listen to me, dragonborn. I’ve got a quarter of my men out of commission, another quarter trapped in a dungeon by those damn milk-drinkers, and I’ve got generals around the damn country waiting for me to take this damn hold by the balls so we can take the next, and the next, and the next, to win this talos-forsaken war. I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR YOUR HORSE SHIT.”

Theodora opened her mouth to argue but Galmar cut her off once more with a swipe across his throat with his finger as if to say shut your mouth before I shut it for you . Instead she just grumbled profanities about the old general under her breath and stomped out of the tent. She could feel her dragonblood boiling within her, causing her rage to skyrocket. She needed a catalyst. And a fort full of imperials would do the trick.

Chapter 47

She hesitated briefly and peered around the camp. She saw her tent in the distance where Lydia was most likely nursing a healing potion and probably trying to finish cleaning Theodora’s armor. Snow was beginning to fall as the smoke from the dragon attack began to settle. Moans and groans filled the air as the healing tent was overfilled with soldiers waiting for even a sip of a healing potion. Part of her wanted to run over and help those who would accept her healing spell, but then she imagined how worse off the prisoners probably were. 

But part of her also couldn’t resist gazing around the camp…. To see if maybe…

No she couldn’t fixate on this. She needed to remind herself she hated him, she hated his guts, she didn’t care if he was hurt from the dragon attack. She didn’t care about him . 

She needed to get away from camp. She tore off towards the camp quartermaster, who was too busy tanning leather to even notice her snagging a bow, plenty of arrows, a steel sword, and a shield. She couldn’t risk going back to her tent for her own supplies, Lydia would know she was up to something and insist on coming with her. She’d have to make do with the ill-fitted armor and shoddy weapons.

She casually strode through camp, not that anyone was paying any attention to her, they were all basically dead on their feet still from the attack. But once she hit the edge of camp she was stopped by the guards on patrol.

“Where are you off to soldier.” One of them barked at her, more as a statement and not even a question. She forced herself to keep her bite back and nodded politely.

“Off to hunt, hoping to get some rabbits, maybe even an elk.” She lied. Both the guards nodded without hesitation and moved, letting her through. She had to resist rolling her eyes at how easy it was to leave camp, she could be going to a whore house at the moment and they wouldn’t blink an eye. She eye’d the hitched horses and thought briefly about stealing Raven and bolting back to Windhelm, but that would only create more problems for herself. Ulfric would probably throw her out for abandoning the cause.

She drew her bow and pretended to be eyeing around for critters but as soon as she was out of sight of the guards posted about half a mile out of camp, she quickly ducked behind a snowy rock and pulled her map from her pocket. She knew the area pretty well, but not as well without Lydia by her side, who was practically a walking map herself. Lydia always recognized where they were, and knew how many paces it would take to get to their destination. But Theodora was walking blind, almost literally as the sun set and it started to grow darker and darker. 

She squinted at the crinkled parchment in the moonlight and thought she could remember the path she was on. If I stay here… and then veer right… Maybe I can sneak up the rear. No then I’d have to climb that damn mountain. But I can’t come out front that’d be too obvious… 

She heard a twig snap and quickly drew her sword and launched to her feet, prepared to take down the imperial spy who may have found her. 

“ SHH it’s me, Theo.”

Her blood turned to ice as she saw the figure draw closer to her, but she didn’t sheathe her sword. She kept it ready, she didn’t know what she was going to do. 

Ralof.

What is he DOING here? Did Galmar send him after me? I ought to knock him to his ass just like he deserves. But she couldn’t move, part of her wanted to strike him down, but the other part of her was just… frozen. Completely paralyzed. Rage boiled her blood as he came into sight under the moonlight. 

“Would you care to put your sword away now?” He spoke casually to her with a grin on his face that made her even more full of rage. 

“No.” She spat at him as she kept it pointed towards his chest. But it didn’t stop him from walking closer to her. She stepped back to keep the distance. As if he truly was an enemy. Because, frankly, he was. He wasn’t supposed to be here . He was ruining everything she had planned. 

“Theo please.”

“Stop calling me that.” She barked at him harshly. He sighed and cocked his head at her. She could see his graying eyes glistening in the moonlight and she hated it. She hated even looking at him. She hated being reminded of… everything.

“What is your problem?” He asked quietly. She couldn’t help but let out a snort of derision. 

“You’re joking, right?”

A silence passed between them as Ralof simply stared, as if he truly had no idea why she was so furious with him. Which of course, only made her more enraged.

“Go back to camp. I don’t need you.” She responded coldly as she finally sheathed her sword and began walking away. But she could hear his steps crunching in the snow behind her. 

“You’re going the wrong way.” He muttered. She whipped around and grit her teeth.

“I said go. Away.”  

“Theo come on can’t we talk about this?”

“I also said stop calling me that.” She barked at him. She moved and crossed through the brush, going in the other direction she wondered if was correct, but she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of asking. 

“Fine, what would you like me to call you? Dragonborn?”

She rolled her eyes and ignored him, but he kept chattering close behind her as she tried to keep from sinking in the deep snow, ignoring how her feet were starting to turn into ice blocks.

“I had heard about the infamous dragonborn traveling all around, I never imagined it would be you Theo.”

Theodora scoffed and stopped in her tracks, “Why? Did you think I’d just be sitting in Riverwood waiting for you? Some silly little girl standing by the edge of town hoping you’d come and rescue me?”

“I mean, I can’t say it hasn't crossed my mind.” He said coyly to her, a small grin creeping across his face. She clenched her teeth harder and had to resist punching him in his smug face. She hated how casual and… unphased he was acting. As if the past year hadn’t happened, as if he hadn’t fucked her and then left her. 

“Fuck off Ralof.” She grumbled and kept on her stride. She heard him sigh and trot along behind her.

“Theo, will you please just talk to me?”

“If you hadn’t noticed I’m a little busy at the moment.” She spat at him as she avoided a large tree branch and hoped it would swing back and hit Ralof, but she heard him move out of the way just in time. 

“Yes I was told I was supposed to be accompanying you.” 

“Well I don’t need you so go away .”

“ No .”

“Gods Ralof, what is your problem? What do you WANT from me?” She whipped around and couldn’t keep from bellowing at him. 

“ My problem? I’m not the one storming off every time you try to speak to me!” Ralof chuckled at her, as if this was all a joke to him. Theodora couldn’t keep it inside anymore, her dragonblood was boiling, causing every ounce of her to be filled with hatred and rage. 

“ FUS!” She shouted and watched as his body stumbled backwards into the heavy snow, the trees rattling around them and shaking the loose snow off the branches. She heard a grunt come from his shocked body as she turned and stormed off, hoping he would get the hint and leave her alone for good.

Chapter 48

She kept along until she found the trail again, feeling satisfied with herself that Ralof seemed to take the hint and she was alone again. But she also felt a sinking feeling in her once more…. Something resembling… disappointment.

No, it was ridiculous. She didn’t love Ralof, why should she be disappointed he didn’t come after her? She needed to forget about him and just find the fort. Once she took the fort she could leave and forget he existed, just as he would do to her. 

After a while of aimless wandering she groaned and pulled out her map once more. She had to admit it, she was fucking lost. Part of her wished she had convinced herself Lydia’s injuries weren’t that serious and she should’ve come along. And even worse, part of her wished she had just let Ralof show her the way. 

No, she didn’t need him. She could figure this out herself. She just had to think… How far away from camp had she gone, and which direction? She cursed Ralof even more for distracting and disorienting her.

“Okay…. This way.” She muttered to herself as she decided on a direction and stuck with it, keeping her bow drawn in case of any surprises as she (hopefully) drew closer to the fort. 

The air was freezing as night completely took over. She had lost the feeling in her hands, feet, and cheeks long ago. She wasn’t even sure her ears were still attached to her head. But she had to focus. She was a nord, she’d be fine. 

She paused behind a large tree as she thought she heard footsteps, but she knew the longer she was out in the woods alone, the more paranoid she’d become. Last time she felt this alone and disoriented in the middle of nowhere, she got clubbed over the head and captured by the imperials. And she really didn’t want history to repeat itself. She wiped the frozen sweat from her forehead and closed her eyes. She could smell something… A fire. Definitely a fire. Was it hunters? She didn’t think it was at least. She knew hunters didn’t like to stay in the colder areas at night because of all the frost trolls. Certainly she hadn’t wandered so far she had hit Falkreath… Even her sense of direction wasn’t that bad.  

No, she had to be close to the fort. She focused on the sky and tried to see if she could see any smoke in the distance. And then she spotted it.

A light. 

Perfect.

She tried to keep quiet as she quickly paced towards the source of the light, and the smell of smoke drew stronger. She needed to make a plan. Well she had a plan, but that all went out the window when Ralof distracted her. 

She needed to get in the fort without being seen. She needed to… either take on the entire fort herself or find a way to free the prisoners and hope they’re in good enough condition to fight. She had a feeling they would be. They were probably full of blood boiling rage from being captured. 

If they were still alive. She had to remind herself there was a real possibility they had been killed immediately. And in that case she’d be better off crouching in the distance and taking out any visible guards one by one… 

No, she had to try and get to the prisoners first, dead or alive. And if they were alive, she couldn’t risk a guard killing them as soon as she started attacking. 

Okay, well how in all of Oblivion am I supposed to do that? She racked her memory for the last time she and Lydia were in Fort Neugrad. The prison of course was in the cellar, practically in the lake. 

“Well it’s about time you got here.”

Theodora drew her bow and pointed it to the source of the voice, but quickly realized once again, it wasn’t an imperial spy sneaking up on her. It was an annoying stormcloak soldier who wouldn’t take a hint. 

“What are you doing ?” She hissed quietly as she put her bow down.

“Waiting for you, it was clear you wouldn’t listen to me directing you so I thought I’d wait and see if you ever made it on your own.” Ralof responded smugly as he leaned against the boulder blocking them from sight of the fort. Theodora pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to convince herself this was all some fucked up dream.

But if this was a dream, she certainly wouldn’t be here . She’d be in Windhelm. With Ulfric. 

“You’re more annoying than I remember.” Theodora grumbled in defeat that Ralof wasn’t leaving and the sooner they got this over with, the sooner she could go back to Ulfric and forget Ralof even existed again. 

“I highly doubt that.” Ralof said with a sly grin. 

“Will you just leave? Then I can focus and take this damn fort.” Theodora rolled her eyes and paced around, trying to block out Ralof’s entire presence so she could focus on the plan. The plan. The plan she didn’t have. 

“Oh so I’m distracting am I?”

“You’re distracting me with your annoyingness.” Theodora grumbled and ignored his arrogance, and his irritating hint of flirtation.

“Theo the sooner you tell me what your problem is the sooner we can move on and work together so out with it.” Ralof sighed and crossed his arms, leaning back and gazing at her with a smug grin. She had to resist shouting at him again, or they’d for sure be spotted. 

“My problem is you weren’t supposed to follow me out here. I could have the fort by now if you didn’t interrupt me.”

“I know this fort better than anyone, so I’ll make you a deal. If you just tell me your problem I can tell you how to infiltrate without being seen.” Ralof responded smugly. Theodora paused from pacing and glared at him. He was being arrogant, smug, and borderline flirtatious and it was pissing her off even more. 

“You wanna know what my problem is?”

Ralof shrugged like he didn’t really care. Theodora clenched her bow in her gripped fist and felt her knuckles turn completely white with rage. Even after all this time Ralof knew how to push each and every one of her hot buttons. She turned to storm away once more, get some distance from the arrogant prick or maybe even stomp directly into the fort and let her rage take over completely. But before she could get far she felt a warm hand wrap around her arm and pull her back. She whipped around and swung to take a hit but Ralof caught her wrist with his other hand and gripped her tight. She couldn’t move. She hated after all this time, after all her dragon hunting and bounty collecting, he could still overpower her. He could still control her.

“Let go of me before I shout you to pieces.” She hissed through grit teeth as he hovered closely to her, keeping her flailing arms gripped tightly.

“While I am very impressed with your thu’um can we please keep our voices down, I’d rather not have to escape imperial imprisonment again .” He teased her. 

“Ralof I’m serious, let go of me.” She tried breaking her arms free, but they wouldn’t budge, she could already feel the bruises forming from his hands tightly wrapped around her. She knew she couldn’t shout, he was right. But it was the only weapon she had left. 

“Theo, just calm down and tell me, by Talos, what has gotten into you? Last I saw you-”

“Last you saw me you were ruining me and then leaving in the night.” She finished for him, “Last you saw me I was a young, stupid little girl who thought you actually cared for me. Who thought you loved me.”

“Theo I-”

“No. You don’t get to make any horseshit excuses for why you abandoned me, claiming you are a soldier and this is what you have to do. Because you could have asked me to go with you and you didn’t. You could have asked me to wait for you and you didn’t. You just left. You left me Ralof.” She practically yelled at him, trying to keep her voice down but letting her rage get the best of her once more as she felt her cheeks redden and tears begin to pool in her eyes. She couldn’t bear to look at him, to look at his smug, pompous expression. He was probably so proud of himself he had annoyed her to tears, and that only made her feel worse. 

But slowly, she felt his hands let go of her. She whipped them away and wiped the embarrassment from her face, sniffling in the cold air as she tried to regain her composure.

“I- I know I did. I’m…. I didn’t… I panicked, okay?”

Theodora shook her head, “Just, shut up. I don’t want to hear it. Let’s just get this over with.”

“Not until you hear what I have to say.” Ralof said quietly. Theodora opened her mouth to argue, to berate him for being so arrogant and insist on having a say .

“Please. I can’t go in there and risk my life without saying my piece” He added. She rolled her eyes and didn’t meet his gaze, though she could feel his stare burning into her.  Part of her wanted to hear what he had to say, to potentially exceed the fantasy she always had in mind about when she would see him again. I left because I love you too much, I didn’t want to bring you any danger. Or, I was planning to come home immediately but I was captured and only recently freed. Or, I was possessed by a daedra . 

But she knew no matter what he said, no matter what excuse he came up with, nothing would make her feel any different. There was no escaping the truth; Ralof left her. He could have stayed, he could have asked her to enlist, or he could have told her he loved her and asked her to wait for him. But he did none of those things. He took her maidenhood, quite harshly she now realizes, and didn’t even say goodbye. 

No. She knew nothing he could say would change the fact that Ralof was her past, and Ulfric was her future.

“Tell it to the gods because I don’t care.” 

Theodora drew her bow once more and quietly crept away, leaving Ralof behind, and focusing on her main goal: to get back home to her future.

Chapter 49

Ulfric weighed his options as Elisif stood with her hands on her robes now hovering around her hips, completely exposing her frail figure. She was offering herself to him, and it was the perfect opportunity to show her just how powerful he was. Not to mention he was still a blue-blooded nord. He’d be a fool to deny any woman offering herself to him, no matter how… unappealing and revolting the woman was. 

“That’s enough put your damn clothes back on woman.” Ulfric, ultimately deciding to be a fool, grumbled as he waved off the widow and rubbed his face in exhaustion. 

“W-What?” Elisif stepped back confused. Clearly, she had not been refused before. Which was surprising to Ulfric, seeing as she wasn’t exactly the most beautiful woman. But perhaps that’s how she managed to keep her position of power so long. Perhaps this was a frequent occurrence in Castle Dour late at night. 

“Just… get out. Leave. Before I change my mind and have you thrown in jail for even stepping on Stormcloak territory.” Ulfric barked and waved her off once more. 

“Ulfric please I swear I won’t tell a soul just-”

“I said get out . Pathetic excuse of a nord.” Ulfric slammed his fist down on his desk and pushed himself out of his chair. He considered having his guards actually throw her in a cell, but he worried that would make him look like he plotted her kidnap and was holding her hostage for Tullius to surrender. 

Even though both he and Elisif knew, no one with power would surrender the war on her behalf. 

“I understand. Thank you for hearing me out, Jarl Ulfric. I wish you the best of luck.” Elisif mustered out with a weak, trembling voice as she tightened her robes and turned to leave. Ulfric simply watched as she opened the door and left. 

“Pathetic.” He grumbled to himself as he ran his hand across his tired eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a good nights’ rest, and he knew he wouldn’t until the dragonborn was back in his arms. Until he knew she was safe. 

And with that thought, Ulfric pulled out a fresh scroll and dipped his quill in the inkwell. Using his left, non dominant hand, he began scribbling down a demand for an update on “ice-veins”, one of the code names for the dragonborn. He couldn’t risk saying “dragonborn” or “Theodora” in any notes, knowing they may be intercepted. So occasionally he would ask how ice-veins were fairing, or if bone-breaker was still intact, hoping any imbecile imperial who may intercept the note would assume he was speaking of a weapon or artillery. 

He sealed the scroll with hot wax and twine, immediately pushing himself up from his desk and crossing over to the door. He could give it to the guard on duty, but he’d prefer to see this note out himself. Not to mention he needed to make sure Elisif wasn’t lingering anywhere in the palace. 

He nodded at the posted guards along the palace corridors and found his way out into the grand hall, giving a quick scan around. A few of his “thanes” were there, chattering with Jorleif no doubt about mindless issues they deem important such as “rations are lower than usual” or “too many khajiit are outside of the town”. As if there wasn’t a war happening that would take a small amount of rations from the richest of houses to send to the soldiers. Ulfric couldn’t stand his thanes, but every jarl has their own group of pompous nobles who are awarded the title and a seat on his council (not war council of course). They were useful when the palace needed additional funds for the war, or needed private access to ships one or two of them might own. Or when he needed some mindless fools to make the less important decisions such as who will assist with hosting the yearly banquet for honoring Tiber Septim. 

He turned quickly to make sure none of them caught a glimpse of him, other than the suffering Jorleif who quickly looked away as to not alert the council of his arrival. Ulfric truly would be lost without Jorleif as his steward, who was gracious enough to deal with the sides of being jarl that Ulfric hated the most. He made his way down to the mailing room, which in his eyes was potentially the most confidential and important area in the entire palace. One slip of a guard could lead to valuable intel lost, and the war set back. He nodded to the multiple men standing guard as they stepped aside and let him through.

“Ah Hylra, just the woman I need.” Ulfric chuckled and put on his best persuasive smile to the young nord who kept record and track of the ingoing and outgoing scrolls. Hylra nearly knocked over the table as she quickly pushed up out of her chair to give Ulfric a courteous nod.

“Jarl Ulfric, of course, what can I do for you?” Hylra stammered as she caught the shaking table and straightened out the few scrolls awaiting to be sent out. Ulfric could see the redness in Hylra’s face anytime he was near her, and he didn’t like to shamelessly flirt to get his way. Well, who was he kidding, he often enjoyed doing so. 

“I need this scroll to go out immediately, to General Galmar in Fort Falkreath. Do you think you could do that for me?” Ulfric flashed a small smile as he handed over the scroll and Hylra nervously took it.

“Of course sir, right away I’ll put it with the next courier.” Hyrla said shakily, setting the scroll down on the table.

“And, I don’t suppose we will have a courier going out soon?” Ulfric pressed, letting his impatience get the best of him. He knew it would take awhile for a courier to make it all the way down to Falkreath and back, and he was already well past his patience for an update.

“One will be returning any moment now, I will have her turn around and go to Falkreath at once.” Hyrla nodded nervously. Ulfric sighed and nodded, wishing he could do more. Wishing he could go to Falkreath himself, to see to it himself that the dragonborn was alive and well. Wishing he could take his betrothed in his arms and fill the camp with the screams of her pleasure… 

“Thank you.” Ulfric nodded and turned to leave, shaking off the nagging thought of saddling his horse and heading to Falkreath at once. It was too risky, no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t risk the war again. He needed something to distract him, to keep his mind off of Theodora. And frankly he needed a distraction from the events that occurred in his study just moments prior. He thought perhaps he was a fool for not letting Elisif prove her ‘loyalty’, but for a split second he pictured how Theodora would react to finding out he was…. Well needless to say it left a sour taste in Ulfric’s mouth. He just wanted to forget the entire afternoon.

He decided his best bet on a distraction would be turning his efforts towards the next step: Markarth. Once Falkreath had been acquired and Dengir was back as Jarl, he would have the entire south of Skyrim guarded. He needed to keep an eye on any reinforcements coming in from the capitol, but if was able to close off Falkreath (along with the already owned Riften), he could suffocate the imperial legion like a cover over a flame. 

He crossed through the great hall and into his war room, where three of his most seasoned generals hovered around his pinned map of territories, bickering endlessly about which men to send where. 

“Why in all of nirn would you want to pull men from Whiterun? We just secured the hold, it’s still susceptible to imperial reinforcements.” General Aelta, truly one of the tallest nord women Ulfric has ever laid eyes on, bellowed at the other generals as Ulfric crept in, still unnoticed and interested in his generals’ true unfiltered opinions. 

“Because Dawnstar is the largest port in all Skyrim, besides Windhelm of course, not to mention it’s directly in line with Haafinger and would be the imperial's next attack.” General Vicci, the normally drunk but nevertheless most seasoned warrior, grunted back. 

“As if old Skjor would let that happen.”

“Well what about Riften? That seems to be holding well.”

“Riften needs all the men it can get, the thieve’s guild is running rampant once again.” General Thallion chimed in and Ulfric decided it was then he would announce his arrival.

“Thallion, what did Jarl Laila have to say about the guild returning?” Ulfric asked as he made his way around the generals, who all straightened up quickly and stepped back, giving a courteous nod to their leader.

“Laila reports there are only rumors of the Thieves Guild sir.” General Thallion responded gruffly.

“And you don’t believe her?” Ulfric pressed. 

“No, sir. With all due respect Jarl Laila is only worried for the skin on her neck, frankly she doesn’t seem to care if the Thieves Guild corrupts her guards and takes over the city.” Thallion responded with a scoff. Ulfric frowned and could feel the rage boiling his blood about to spill over at just the mention of the Thieves Guild. He stared down at his map, where the small crest of Riften sat with a blue marker. He always had Riften in his grasp, but he wasn’t a fool. The Thieves Guild were rogue; unwilling to aid with anything except filling their own pockets. 

And, as he’s come to know, stealing and raping women. 

Ulfric clenched his jaw as the thought of Mercer popped into his mind. He’d give anything to wring the neck of that skeever.

And at that moment, he realized he had just the distraction he needed. 

“I’d like to speak to General Thallion, in private. The rest of you go help the whelps in the training yard, I’m afraid they barely know the difference between their asses and a hole in the ground.” Ulfric demanded. The remaining generals all nodded and turned to leave, used to Ulfric’s sudden demands and dismissals. As the door closed behind the last general, Thallion stood posed and ready for whatever request Ulfric had to ask. He looked at the young general, hardly older than Theodora, but he was one of the smartest. And certainly one of the most… crafty. If he wasn’t a soldier, Ulfric was certain Thallion would be on track to be a member of the dark brotherhood. Which proved very useful at times, especially with less than favorable assignments.

“I’d like to request you work on a… certain task I have in mind. Something I’d appreciate your discretion on.” Ulfric cleared his throat and spoke quietly. Thallion did not waver, he merely nodded for Ulfric to continue. 

“It pertains to the Thieves Guild. How much do you know about them exactly?”

Thallion pondered this for a moment, “Well I grew up in Riften, sir. Back then I only heard rumors of their existence, that they hid in the cistern below the city. Of course I had to look into it myself, and there were a handful of… less than desirables hanging in a makeshift pub down there. They seemed to be extinct. Only a few skeevers hanging on.”

“Until of course a few years ago, things seemed to turn around.” Thallion continued, perking Ulfric’s interest.

“Go on.”

Thallion detailed his understanding of the guild. That there was a leader, but rumors spoke of a murder within the guild, and then the guild seemed to go under the radar for decades. Until recently, more and more reports of missing belongings and lighter pockets seemed to be happening across the country. All eyes pointed to the guild. And with the apathetic Laila seated as Jarl, the war distracting citizens, and rumors of the guild being dissipated; they were in a perfect position to regain power. 

“There’s also the rumor that the guild has the power of lady nocturnal on their side.”

Ulfric scowled and shook his head, “ Nightingales? ”

“Again, rumors, sir. But it could explain the sudden return to power. Or at least, a sense of power.”

Ulfric sighed and rubbed his beard as he took all this information in. He wasn’t a fool, he knew the Thieves Guild was alive and well, and by the sounds of it, they were becoming more and more arrogant. And arrogance breeds ignorance, foolishness. The perfect recipe for a slip up. An opportunity to strike.

“May I ask, what exactly is this assignment you’d like me to assist with?” Thallion asked after a moment. Ulfric cleared his throat and nodded, feeling more certain than ever this was the exact distraction he needed. 

“I need you to help me track down the leader. Mercer. I want him captured, and I want him alive .” Ulfric spoke clearly and plainly, waiting for the confusion to wash over Thallion’s face. But the confusion never came and the general merely nodded. Ulfric was growing to like that boy even more.

“Understood.”

Ulfric sighed in relief and felt a satisfied smirk creep across his face. For the first time in a long time, he felt he may just get a decent night’s rest.