Disclaimer: I do not own the Elder Scrolls or Bethesda or anything related.
Note: Y'all, I just get little ideas in my head sometimes. This isn't an elaborate, incredible story. It's just a torrid affair between my Dragonborn and Ulfric Stormcloak lol. This is a two-shot that falls after the 1st in this series, The Moot; I'll post one more chapter, and then one last story which will have two chapters like this.
"Stormblade," the new High King greeted, his voice gruff. "I can't trust you to go anywhere." He sounded more amused than anything, which was what she had been hoping for. She stayed silent though, as he rose from his throne and paced around her with his arms locked behind his back. She could feel his eyes traveling up and down her body, which was covered in the skintight red and black assassin's garments of the Dark Brotherhood. "Anyone who underestimates you, Dragonborn, is making a grave mistake," he commented in amusement.
She smirked, and replied impudently, "You have underestimated me." And he would be very sorry he had, when it was all said and done. As he made a full circle around her though, she began to realize that in that moment, she cared not for revenge or atonement from him; she simply wanted him to want her, to say it out loud and act on it. Damn, she thought ruefully. What power does he have over me?
Ulfric came to a halt in front of her, and there was a wry smile on his ruggedly handsome face. "From the moment I saw you battle your way out of Helgen, I realized there was something different about you; but you have surpassed obstacles that even I have not." It was a monumental statement for him to make. Reyna tried to suppressed the urge to smile. He knew just how to get to her, giving just enough to draw her in, then taking and taking until she was utterly enraged with him. She had come here to gloat, to show him what he was missing, and to express her still-present anger at him for his behavior at the Moot. In his presence though, soaking in his acclaim, she reluctantly realized that her body was alive and singing, waiting for him. It was a perverse back and forth that they shared, and she savored it as much as she hated it.
His eyes traveled to her neck, and he reached out to finger the pendant hanging down between her breasts, his gaze all at once hard and distant. "An amulet of Mara," he observed carefully. "How many offers of marriage have you received thus far?"
"More than I care to admit," she said, a capricious thrill of satisfaction filling her. She had managed to get under his skin. Good. "Still, there are others I'd prefer." Her voice spoke volumes, and they both knew to whom she was referring. She was understood that he was set in his denial of her, and while it might seem like an open-hearted comment from her, it was more of a taunt; even if he suddenly changed his mind and dropped to one knee before her right then, she would deny him outright just to infuriate and embarrass him.
Ulfric remained silent, his face like steel. She expected nothing less from him, knowing he would never let his real feelings be known.
"I think I've decided on a candidate," she revealed nonchalantly, turning to the long table before his throne and pouring herself a goblet of mead. "His name is Vorstag. He is a Nord I met in Markarth." Reyna paused to see what effect the name of the hold he loathed would have on him, but he was as stoic as ever. "He traveled with me for a time, before I became a member of the Dark Brotherhood."
Ulfric raised a brow, and rubbed the bridge of his nose as he sat once more upon his throne. "No milk-drinker, then, if he is battling dragons alongside the Dragonborn." He glanced up at her, and his eyes seemed to be searching her gaze, as if to gauge her reaction. "And a Nord," he added. "Thank Talos. You could do much worse."
She didn't respond, but rather sat quietly sipping her mead. I could do much better, she thought to herself. It was a very risky game they played; their crafty banter would surely one day explode with the tension between them. For now though, she enjoyed from her peripheral view his uncomfortable movements when he realized she wouldn't be provoked.
"When is the joyous occasion?" Ulfric asked of her, his voice almost sour-sounding now. His tone filled her with triumph. She was winning their wordplay games for once.
"In a fortnight," she answered him blithely. "And I freely admit that I expect my honored liege to be there," she informed him with a wolfish grin, nearly preening with the victory she felt having delivered such an unexpected blow to him.
Ulfric gripped the arms of his throne, looking every bit galled. "And so I shall," he declared, his voice like iron, not betraying his true feelings. "I will travel with your housecarl and your children, to assure their safe arrival in Riften."
She smiled, and set down her goblet. "Thank you," she told him sincerely, hoping for just one moment that he would let his guard down, so that she could as well; hoping for just one moment that he might do or say something to change her mind. She extricated herself from her seat and stood staring at him speculatively. Their gazes settled on each other for endless moments, and an uncomfortable silence fell on them. The tension in the air was thick enough to choke them.
She turned to leave, feeling like a fool.
"Reyna," Ulfric spoke gravely.
She stopped, and looked over her shoulder at him.
"You will always be mine," he stated, his voice hard, his eyes even harder as they bore into hers.
She didn't say a word. She merely smirked seductively at him and strolled out of the Great Hall.
"King Ulfric is going to take you to Riften, my darlings," Reyna told Sofie and Hroar, as they sat next to her at the table in Hjerim. "You will ride in the wagon with Calder, am I understood?" Her adopted children had been begging to ride their own newly-gifted mares, but Reyna had vehemently refused to let them do so. It simply wasn't safe for them. It was hardly safe for her at times. Even with Ulfric and his guards protecting them, she didn't trust the harsh trails of Skyrim to treat them kindly.
"Yes, Mama," the children said in tandem dejectedly. Sofie lazily dipped another piece of bread into her tomato soup, and Hroar sullenly tapped his feet on the floor. Reyna was shocked they hadn't put up more of a fight, and briefly wondered if it would be Calder or Ulfric to indulge them while she wasn't around to enforce her words.
Calder sat down next to her, leaning in close as he reached for the bread on the other side of her. "This is quite an exciting time, my Thane. I will be happy to show your new husband around Windhelm, when he joins us here." The red-haired housecarl drank deeply of his ale, and Reyna could see that he was using a kind of stiff positivity to mask his troubled mind. But that was one of the things that made Calder so likeable: Despite his own internal problems, he always approached with happiness and peace.
"I will come home with him," she informed him distractedly, running a hand down Sofie's brown waves. "I want us to bond as a family before I continue my quests." She smiled kindly at Calder. "You are part of this family, Calder. You know that, don't you?" She searched his gaze, trying valiantly to impart her very large amount of platonic love for him with her eyes.
He only nodded and looked away from her, staring down into his mug despondently. Reyna felt for him. He had been her first housecarl. He loved her and was unwaveringly devoted to her, but she had not chosen him for marriage. During her absences, Calder had taken care of her children and her home, and it was his right to be Reyna's husband. But she had not chosen him. Part of her felt guilty, but she knew Calder would never hold it against her. He would continue to serve faithfully, and loyally, until his death. She would do everything in her power to show him her appreciation for that.
"Do you think that I can call him Papa?" Hroar asked nonchalantly, staring at his tapping feet. He was such a sensitive boy underneath all of his fierceness. She suddenly felt terrible for not marrying sooner so that he could have the father he deserved. Still, Calder had been so good to the children. She fretted again that she had not chosen him; he had been practically raising her children. Didn't he deserve to hear them call him father? But she couldn't begin to imagine engaging in intimacy with a man she'd seen as a brother for the past year.
"I'm sure he will like that very much," Reyna assured Hroar, attempting feebly to mask the uncertainty in her voice. She was suddenly very unsure herself, which was not a feeling she usually dealt with; one could not be the Dragonborn and second guess themselves constantly. But now, as she considered Hroar's question, her brain began to spin. She had traveled with Vorstag extensively, and yet they had never discussed parenting. They had barely discussed marriage. Knowing he was attracted to her, and feeling fairly fond of him, they had decided to marry. Beyond that, not much had been discussed. That left her slightly unsettled as she dwelled on it. Was her need to bestow upon Ulfric the full wrath of her retribution so important that she had acted foolishly?
Too late to back out now, she told herself. Everything would be fine.
