The businesses of Court had a way of wearing down one's soul. The Court of Solitude was no different as of late. As it was for Elisif, the young Jarl of Solitude, the events and happenings in the past months had been life altering, if not harrowing. The events of the past 2 years had left the young maiden feeling older than she was. In said time, she'd been widowed, presided over her people in a civil war, and seen the rise and return of a dragon that signified the end of times. Yet Solitude remained, as did Skyrim. Elisif, for her part, found that she could take very little credit for this fact. Neither could the Imperial Legion that currently made its headquarters in the Castle Dour, not more than an archer's shot away. The responsible party, as it were, was Christophe, the half Redguard-half Nord that she had named Thane of Solitude a little more than a year ago. At the time he had been but a simple adventurer that had somehow seemingly stumbled into Solitude and managed to fix several of the concerns that had been troubling the young Jarl's mind. In period afterward, the young warrior had been revealed to have been the legendary Dovakiin, the Dragonborn. It was he, which had slain the dragon Alduin and quelled the civil war by leading the siege on Windhelm, home of the traitorous Ulfric Stormcloak.
But it was far from his accolades on the battlefield that had made Christophe the 'Hero of Skyrim'. He was a kind and thoughtful man. He was as cunning and swift in matters of the court, as he was on the field of battle. Little unsettled the man, be it an ancient dragon or the tyrannical ravings of fellow Thane Erikur. Elisif liked the man very much. He was honorable and held true to a code unto himself. She found him quite fascinating and would often find reasons to include him in important decisions about the well-being of Solitude and her holdings. So it had come with very little surprise to anyone that had had an eye for such things, that she came to look forward to the times she spent with the young lord. Her steward, Falk Firebeard, was the first to speak of the growing attraction aloud. He'd spoken to her one night after the other members of her court retreated to their homes.
"Jarl," he spoke softly, yet with authority. "I can't help but notice how you've taken to the Redguard." Elisif wasn't exactly pleased with the emphasis. "He is a tool to be used, he cannot be anything more. Whether he is bent and shaped by our hands or another's, he is a blunt instrument of war. Your Highness has already done more than necessary in rewarding him with title and home; let's not give our enemies a reason to jerk Solitude out of your grasp."
Elisif knew that her steward was not only referring to Ulfric but to Tulius as well. General Tulius was the Imperial General currently presiding over the forces of Skyrim. His dominating presence had weighed heavily amongst the citizens of Solitude and the holds throughout the land. While the General had never spoken out directly opposed to Elisif, there were many who believed it was Tulius and not Elisif who wielded the true power. Elisif had tried to brush off those remarks and accusations, which had proven to be more and more difficult with the passing days. There were even those around her that she suspected would stand by the General if he wished to usurp power away from the young woman. Elisif turned her attention back to her steward.
"The Redguard has a name. He is a Thane of this court and he will be shown proper decorum." She admittedly had been a bit terser than she had anticipated, yet she continued. "I'd suspect that Christophe has his own measures for doing the things he does, yet I still trust him more than most of my advisors." She let the last word linger. Falk Firebeard was an honorable man, but he'd been appointed by her late husband, and Elisif suspected that there were a great many things that Falk took upon himself to further his own goals than that of Solitude's.
The steward seemed to take the hint that he was being dismissed from both the conversation and his Jarl's presence. "Then I take my leave milady. I just bid that you take my opinion to heart." With an exaggerated bow, he left Elisif. She looked to her personal guard standing in the corner. If Bolgier Bearclaw had any thoughts on the matter, his emotionless façade held no betrayal.
"I take my leave now Bolgier. See to it that I am not disturbed until the morrow."
The big man nodded. "Yes my Jarl."
In the months that had followed the exchange between Elisif and Falk had seen a number of changes. Felled was Alduin, the World Eater, as was Ulfric Stormcloak. Skyrim had united behind the Dragonborn who despite having allied himself with the Empire, had fought under the banner of Solitude. A Moot had been called to crown a new monarch of Skyrim. Christophe had the ears and hearts of many, and made no secret of his favor for Elisif. Yet one hurdle remained before she had the support of the Jarls. Something had to be done about the Imperial presence in Solitude. Tulius and his garrison wasn't about to leave Skyrim just because the civil war had ended. If anything it seemed like the Empire was settling in. Once again it had been Christophe that had solved that problem. He had spoken to Tulius on behalf of Elisif. The Dragonborn had convinced the general that Windhelm would be the most logical need of an Imperial residence. He argued since it had been Ulfric's seat of power, it seemed logical that any uprising or supporters of the late Jarl could use it as a rallying or staging point. It seemed that the general had agreed and had ordered the withdraw of all but a small detail from Solitude. With the Legion now in Windhelm, the Moot had been called to meet in Solitude, seemingly just a formality to the crowning of Elisif as High Queen of Skyrim.
The new 'Queen' had been finding her days as of late to become increasingly monotonous. With her new office had come the seemingly endless lines of well-wishers and visitors seeking an audience with the nearly crowned Queen. Yet she had noticed that in the days leading to the Moot, that Christophe had been markedly absent from all gatherings of the court. Elisif had knew that he was in fact in Solitude, as she'd overheard one of her visitors mentioned having run into him in the temple. Elisif couldn't help but wonder why he had not returned to the court. It wasn't like him not to announce his return, while Christophe remained a private individual; he had a refined decorum not often seen in Skyrim. He would have showed himself, if only to pay his respects to the Jarl. Elisif was startled back to the present with a cough and disapproving look from Falk. Before her was a man from the Jarl's family in the Reach. She hadn't heard any of his conversation.
"I'm sorry, Raerick was it? I assure you the problems that you are having in the Reach are a concern of mine as well. I will give these matters serious thought. Yet I am forced to end court today, I believe I need time to reflect on all the matters brought to my attention." Like why in Oblivion Christophe hasn't come to see me. The elder Reachman offered a polite bow and retreated from the throne room. He was followed by the others that had gathered in the palace. Falk Firebeard hesitated for a moment as if to make a statement, but wisely chose to fall in line and leave as well.
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The grind of the day and the quiet of the night had done little to help Elisif find slumber. As she lay alone, her mind couldn't help but think of the man that she had come to count on. She thought of how he had come into the Blue Palace once, months ago, still in his armor, muddy and road worn. The nobles in attendance had all taken notice and did not approve. All were dressed in radiant fashions, gleaming from head to toe, yet here stood a warrior dressed for battle with the signs of his most recent conquest literally on his sleeve. The Jarl ignored the gasps and muttering and kept her attention on the man now kneeling before her. He outstretched his arms, presenting her with a bundled package. Slowly and carefully she untied the binding and let the burlap wrapping fall away. Underneath was a helm of fangs and bone. Upon closer inspection she realized that it was a crown.
"A crown?" She asked.
"The Jagged Crown, my lady." Christophe looked up to her. She could see the look of accomplishment behind his golden eyes. The Jagged Crown had long been a symbol of power in Skyrim. As far as Elisif knew, it had been lost ages ago.
"It's-I mean thank you. It's just-."
"Ugly?"
Elisif laughed aloud. "Yes, it's so ugly!" Nervous laughter filled the chamber. Christophe rose off his knees, when he stood the Jarl was quickly reminded just how large the man was.
"Regardless, the crown is yours, as it belongs to the true ruler of this land." An applause broke out amongst those gathered in the chamber. The young Thane kissed her hand. A wave of heat washed over her body. "Now if you'll excuse me, I must take my leave. I am in desperate need of food, drink, and bed."
Smiling Elisif added, "Perhaps a bath as well?"
Returning her smile he answered, "Yes I suppose that a bath wouldn't hurt." And with that he turned away and retreated from the palace.
The Jarl lay in her bed staring at the crown that lay at the end of her bed. She thought of the man that had risked his life to bring her this relic of a time long ago and the trials and turmoil he had undertaken. She had witnessed him in battle. It was at the close of the civil war when the final assault had been led on Windhelm. Elisif and many of the Jarl's that supported the Empire had ridden to Windhelm. From a cliff overlooking the ancient city they watched as the sons and daughters of Skyrim tore into each other for the future that each side believed was their own. It hadn't proved difficult to find the Dragonborn amongst the warriors on the field. His white armor shone bright against the darkness of the battle. His large arms swung his sword with such strength and savagery, yet there was an almost poetic finesse about it. It wasn't long after, that Christophe had emerged from the battle with Ulfric's sword, a sign that the battle and war was now over.
It was later that night, after a mass celebration among the victors, the Jarl had sought the warrior out. She found him alone on the river shore. He was nude, having stripped down to bathe in the river. She knew that she should have turned away, given the man his privacy in what was surely a moment well deserved, but she stayed, frozen to the spot. She watched as he slowly descended into the water, seemingly baptizing himself in the icy waters. The moon and the fires of the camp made his mahogany skin shine in the night. He shook his hair out, that long dark hair that Elisif all too often felt that he shouldn't hide under the hood he was so fond of wearing. Watching the warrior in this moment, she felt that familiar warmth in her body. She began to have a feeling that she hadn't had since long before her husband had passed away. She wanted the man. No, she needed him to want her, she longed for him to touch her in the way that she had been longing for for so long. Her thin finger reached for the ties of her bodice. With a speed that she didn't know she possessed, she'd untied the vest and tossed it aside. Her body seemed to have possessed her better judgment and moved faster than her years of etiquette training had taught her. She slipped the dress off her hips letting it fall to the rocks. The cold air shocked her body causing goose pimples across her soft skin. The sudden contact with the brisk air also caused her nipples to become as hard as rubies. Elisif suddenly became very aware of her sudden vulnerability. The self doubt began to creep in. Christophe was the most beautiful man she'd ever laid eyes on, he could have any woman he desired. While Elisif was still a young woman, she'd seen only 25 winters, she was very insecure of herself. Suddenly her urges for the Redguard were dashed. Quietly and as quickly as she could, she gathered her clothing and retreated back into the night's darkness.
Elisif had dwelled on that fleeting moment many times over the last several weeks. In the night, alone to her own devices as she was now, her mind would drift back to that moment. Always, she would have done things different. She would have left when she first saw that he was bathing. She would have announced herself, giving him time and opportunity to cover himself. And sometimes, she would go through with it. She'd slip into the water with Christophe, pressing her body against his massive frame. She would press her lips to his, sliding her tongue into his mouth. He would pick her up in his arms and carry her to his camp he'd set up along the shore. Laying her across animal skins, he would hover over her pressing his manhood against her opening. She would bite her lip and wait for him…UGH, why has he not showed? Elisif sat out of bed. She had decided to go to the source. Grabbing her overcoat, she tied it over her nightdress and slipped on her shoes. Peaking into the hallway, she saw Bolgier slumped over in a chair sleeping soundly. Quietly she slipped through the hall, down the staircase, through the palace doors, and into the night.
~~~)+(~~~
Despite the late hour, the streets of Solitude were busy with activity. With the moot just days away, countless citizens flocked to the capital city to partake in festivals and the revelry. To avoid recognition, Elisif slipped the hood of her coat over her head. As she passed the Bard's college, she could see that it was the center of tonight's festivities. As she made her way up to Christophe's home, she was unsurprised to see a small gathering of people in front just hoping to catch a glimpse of the 'Hero of Skyrim'. Quietly she slipped to the side of the house and through the garden to the side door. Taking a moment to gather herself, she pulled back her cloak and knocked on the door. There was no response, neither from the Thane or his Housecarl Jordis. After a few moments, she pondered leaving. But the memory of the riverbank and the countless outcomes came flooding back. Without a second's thought, she reached for the handle and let herself in.
Proudspire mansion was a beautiful home. Elisif looked at the amazing trophies and baubles that were on display in the foyer. There were weapons that glowed with untold magics, styled armors that seemed so foreign and exotic. Her attention was suddenly captured by the enormous jewel sitting on a small nearby table. It was larger than a loaf of bread, and sculpted with such beautiful precision. She reached out to touch it, when she heard noises coming from the floor above.
"Thane Christophe?" she called from the staircase. Receiving no answer she continued up to the first landing. When she reached the second level of the home she continued to hear the noise. Now closer to the source, she was able to discern that it was muffled voices. Growing ever curious, she moved to the cracked door opposite the staircase. Inside the room, she was shocked to see her Thane. His nude body stood in the middle of the floor. The light from the corner fireplace had caused his dark skin to glow in the dimly lit room. He had a thin layer of sweat forming across his shoulders that sparkled in the light. His legs and buttock proved to be as evenly muscled as his arms and chest. Elisif began to speak, but was cut off by another voice in the room.
"Falk, would be ever upset if he ever found out about this." Elisif traced the voice back to the large bed on the far side of the room. It was Lady Bryling, a fellow Thane and the love of her steward.
"Then I guess this should be our little secret." Elisif watched from the doorway as Christophe climbed back into the bed and on top of the equally nude Bryling. She stood firm, paralyzed in her fear and in a state of curiosity. She watched in awe as the two Thanes tore into each other.
Christophe slid down between Bryling's legs. From the sounds of her giggles and moans, he had clearly found his mark. The woman gripped on to the back of his head with one hand as she used the other to grasp at the curtains that draped from the large bed. The older woman arched her back and moaned loudly. The dragonborn took this moment to slide up next to her. He pressed his lips to hers as his fingers took up the job that his tongue had just vacated.
Elisif could feel the familiar heat wave coursing through her body. This time however she felt the pangs of hurt and jealousy. Even then, she couldn't tear herself away from the scene. As if her body was enchanted, it began to act with a mind of its own. Her small hands found their way inside her coat. She began to slowly rub the source of her body's desire. Through the small nightdress, her womanhood was electric to the touch. Pleasure coursed through her body. She was discovering feelings that she hadn't felt since long before her late husband died. She lifted the slip and used her newfound wetness to insert a finger into her small folds. Immediately her body betrayed her and she loosed a small moan. She snapped her eyes back to the two people in the next room. Elisif swore that Christophe had paused slightly but with Bryling now bucking against his fingers, he resumed his attention to the woman. Elisif stopped pleasing herself, but continued to watch the pair.
Christophe pulled his fingers out of the woman. Bryling whimpered in protest. He then chose to slide behind her, rolling the woman onto her knees in the process. From there he seemed to measure up the woman before entering her from behind. Elisif was startled by the loud cry out from the older woman. While she initially thought that the Thane might be in pain, those thoughts were quickly washed away by the woman's groans of immense pleasure. The woman's moans were sped up, in line with the thrusting of the man's hips. Finally it seemed as if Bryling could take no more as she howled like a wild beast, Christophe matched her with a guttural yell that literally shook the house. Both Thanes laughed at the instance, while Elisif was startled back.
Christophe rose out of bed quickly, pausing to slide a robe over his body. "I feel like I need more wine. And you, my lady?"
"Yes, definitely more wine."
The Jarl was suddenly thrust back into reality, a reality in which she had been pleasuring herself while secretly watching two of her nobles please each other, after entering a home uninvited. Quickly she dashed from the spot she had been frozen to. She reached the door and threw it open exposing her warm body to the cool Solitude night. I really should not have come she thought to herself. How crestfallen she was that the man she had come to see was with another woman. She continued to berate herself. He doesn't belong to you. You've made no claim to him and he's made no claim for you. Why are you so upset? Defeated, she decided to make her way back to the palace. Replacing her hood, she began down the stairs when a hand from the darkness reached out and grabbed her. She found herself thrown to the ground when she'd tried to wrench free.
"Who are you? Why have you come here?!" The voice boomed through the small garden. Quickly she realized that it was the Dragonborn that stood above her. She suddenly felt the fear that she imagined his enemies felt when sharing the field of battle.
"I'm sorry, I wasn't here to steal." Elisif wasn't sure why she had answered in that way. If she would have just pulled the hood back, she knew the man would have immediately stopped the line of questioning and assisted her to her feet.
"Why are you here?" Christophe's voice softened, but it still demanded a response. The Jarl rolled onto her knees. Out of embarrassment of her predicament, she couldn't allow herself to answer or look up at him. "So be it, let the city guard figure this out." He turned to call out for the nearest patrol.
"No, wait!" Elisif panicked and reached out for him, accidently snagging her fingers on the belt of his robe. Suddenly she found herself staring the Thane's manhood in the eye, so to speak. While not a complete stranger to the male anatomy, the only phallus that she'd ever seen in person was that of her late husband's and that now paled in comparison to the work of art that was now before her. Without any hesitation, and to the shock of both herself and the warrior standing above her, she took his member into her mouth. While only having read about such things in the books that she'd managed to entertain herself with in the lonely nights, she took to Christophe's prize with an animalistic hunger. She grabbed his firm backside forcing all of him into her throat. Using her tongue she massaged the underside of his thick shaft. Suddenly she was overwhelmed both by the scent and taste of Bryling's linger on him. This only drove her closer to the brink. Christophe elicited a moan, clearly showing his appreciation. She released him. "Do you approve?" Not waiting for his answer, she let go of his rear. With one hand she stroked his engorged member while the other dipped into her now soaked undergarments. Knowing that he would stop if she removed any of her clothing she kept the heavy hooded coat over her small body. As she reached her own peak, she purred against his long shaft. Again he muttered his approval. Without word she rose from her knees and led him to the nearby stone fence.
Christophe took the cue. He hoisted her up onto the small wall. Elisif prepared herself for what came next. Months of dreams and fantasies came true as the massive man plunged into her small slit. He filled her entirely. She was achingly surprised that she'd been able to take so much of him. He pumped his hips into her, and to her shock, she reciprocated the action. She lost herself in the moment and threw her arms around the warrior. Just as she felt his member flex, jerk, spasm, and fill her with his seed, a bolt of electricity jolted through her body.
"Christophe, I love you!" she screamed into the night. Suddenly a horrified look appeared across the Redguard's face. He pulled back the hood that still covered her face and found the sheepish and embarrassed grin of his queen.
"My lady?" He quickly dropped to his knee. Coming down from her perch, knees still weak from her experience, Elisif laughed.
"I think we are past such decorum, aren't you?"
Christophe rose. "I don't understand, why are you here?"
"I came to see you. You have been missing from court. I was worried." She suddenly remembered Bryling still was inside the manor. "But I can see it was for naught. It seems that you have been well taken care of."
She saw the man's face stiffen. "The Thane was a message." When he saw that Elisif was confused, he continued. "For too long Falk Firebeard has treated me, the people of Solitude, and YOU milady as tools to further his own plans. I just wanted to send him a message that I was not to be trifled with so easily." He reached for her hand. "But I never meant for you to find out about this. You-" he trailed off. "You are going to be queen, and you deserve to have better than the people you have around you. Including me." She pressed her hands on his cheeks. Continuing on her night of no regrets, she kissed him softly.
"Yes, I am going to be Queen. I will decide who is around me."
He placed his forehead against hers. "Well then, where do we go from here?"
Three months later
The funeral for Falk Firebeard was an elegant and stately affair. The nobles from all the holds of Skyrim came to pay their respects to the fallen steward and the High Queen. Missing from the affair was Lady Bryling, who had recently been sent to the neighboring Black Marsh, a diplomat in the service of the crown. The newly named steward and Prince-consort delivered a beautiful eulogy paying tribute to what he called a "great man". Christophe hoped that Falk would find honor in the halls of Sovengarde. After the ceremonies, the queen and prince took on well-wishers, when one of the guards handed him a slip of paper. Excusing himself, he slipped into a hallway to find the author of the note lurking in the shadows.
"Greetings listener." A child stepped out into the torchlight. "I trust you were happy with my work?"
A small smile crept across the Dragonborn's face. "As always Babette, I'm always happy with your work."