Hi! This is my first fanfic, so please read and review :3 I hope the story doesn't seem too choppy for anyone and you all like it way more than I do. (If it's not obvious italic is the female point of view, normal text is Ulfric.)
I paced nervously around the upper floor of Candlehearth Hall, unsure of how this situation would work out for me. It would either go perfectly fine, or absolutely miserably, but any kind of optimism I might have had ran shrieking like a little milk drinker from my mind the moment I entered the city gates. Ulfric had to be somewhat sensible about the situation, right? But then again I'm an elf, an outlander in Skyrim according to any nord, and there was a good chance he would laugh in my face and send me away, regardless of my dragon blood. I strode back to the table I was occupying in the inn, taking another long swig of mead. Stenvar kept making eye contact with me from across the room, I was sure he could tell I was bothered, but he knew better than to think I would burden him with my troubles, he was a lovely companion and a wonderful friend, but I still felt bad for dismissing him about a month ago. Finally I made up my mind, dropping a more than necessary amount of septims on the table before taking off into the wintery night.
There were no guards standing outside the massive doors, the streets were empty and silent, even the beggars must have found someplace warmer to sleep tonight. I lifted a hand to the door in an attempt to haul the massive structure open, but instead the door opened from within, and a nobleman exited the palace, probably tired of trying to lick the Jarl's boots. The man made eye contact with me briefly before strolling out into the storm, seemingly untouched by the icy temperatures. I slunk into the palace before the doors could close on me and began proudly striding to the Jarl's throne where he sat seemingly disinterested in whatever his steward was rambling about. I threw off my hood, causing the snow resting upon me to fly to the floor, and shaking the remnants from my hair on my march to the throne. The men in the room fell silent as they noticed me, most likely taken aback by the presence of a woman in the court, and even more that a bosmer dare show their face without an invitation at the least.
I shifted in my throne, watching as the woman strode towards me, shoulders squared and head high. Her hair was a bright silver, cascading down to the middle of her back, she had bright green eyes that seemed to shimmer with her confidence, and the scar that ran across her right cheek didn't take away from her beauty. Her slender figure caught the attention of most of the men, her hips swayed in their own mesmerizing rhythm that had me entranced until she stood defiantly at the base of the throne, even Galmar seemed momentarily caught in the beauty of the minx that had just entered the hall.
I remembered her from Helgen, her name was Odette. She had haunted me since that day, I was having Jorlief keep tabs on the woman as she gallivanted about the land. I knew there was something different about her the first time I laid eyes on her in that cart sending us to the chopping block. I never would have guessed she was the Dragonborn, but I could definitely find use for her even though she was an elf.
"My Jarl, I have need of your assistance, well your cooperation more rather," her voice rang out in the silent hall.
"And what might it be that you need my cooperation for?" I could see a slight shiver run down Odette's spine as she heard my voice.
"I need you to come to a peace council in High Hrothgar."
"A peace council?" I raised my voice; it sounded like a ploy of Tullius' and I had really thought her above affiliations with the Empire, "What reason would I have to go to a peace council?"
"The Jarl of Whiterun won't agree to let me capture a dragon in his palace without a pause in the civil war, Alduin is a threat to everyone if I cannot stop him in time, this would be for the whole of Skyrim, the whole of Tamriel, and as soon as the World Eater is defeated the war can resume." I could hear the desperation in her voice as she neared the end of her explanation.
"And what of Tullius, will he be there?"
"Yes, I already talked to the General and he agreed to attend."
This was my perfect opportunity, "I will attend this council, but I have a request first."
She looked at me in slight confusion, "What might this request be exactly?"
"You have to join the Stormcloaks first, you must pledge your loyalty to me," I smiled as the words left my lips, and motioned for the hall to clear, in seconds it was empty, save for Jorlief, and Galmar who I'm sure couldn't dream of leaving while such important negotiations were underway.
I panicked momentarily, I had avoided the war so far and was hoping this council could pause their season unending, maybe even end it without more bloodshed. Skyrim under Imperial rule would be too strict and enforced, but under Ulfric the entire country would turn racist and bias. I had thought through every scenario that might have occurred, but the plan I had come up with for this scenario in particular had quite a few flaws, and I had hoped it wouldn't have come to this, but it was too late for wishful thinking. "There is only one way I will join your rebellion, I will not risk my life for Skyrim and your rebellion just to see the land I love ruined by hatred and misjudgment, Ulfric I can only agree if you marry me."
"How dare you say that to the Jarl, you…" Galmar began.
"Galmar, please," The Jarl silenced his commander. "If I were to accept, there is much more we would have to go over and negotiate, but why would an elf want to marry the Jarl of Windhelm?"
"You are a racist that would try to keep Skyrim separated, like your city. My aid to either side of the war would end the stalemate and tip the balance in their favor; if I'm going to join the Stormcloaks and be an instrumental part in your success then I want the position as High Queen in return. If I fail you can have my head on a pike, but I assure you victory would be yours." I could swear my heart was almost pounding its way out of my chest.
I heard Galmar's whisper about me being power hungry, but they all seemed to ignore him.
"Yes, I will marry you, after the negotiations at High Hrothgar we will travel to Riften together and be wed, on the way there we can fine tune the details of the arrangement. But before we leave, you must swear your fealty to me and join the Stormcloaks." I couldn't believe it worked, my shock must have shown because he chuckled at me before turning to his companions and laughing a bit louder, Galmar and Jorlief were looking back and forth between us, mouths open in shock. It seemed that neither of them could quite believe the Jarl had agreed to any of the propositions I made, least of all the proposition of marriage, especially without giving it considerable thought and consulting them both.
"But before she can join, she has to go to Serpentstone Island just like everyone else." Galmar proclaimed.
"You really think it is necessary for the Dragonborn to prove herself?" Ulfric questioned.
"Yes!" Galmar always seemed stubborn.
"Fine, go to Serpentstone Island quickly and bring back some Ice Wraith Teeth." Ulfric ordered. I was about to protest the waste of my skills on such simple creatures as Ice Wraiths, but instead strode to the doors in a hurry to get the job done.
"And be careful, I wouldn't want to have to bury you before I get you in my bed!" I laughed as she slammed the door behind her, silver hair barely whooshing out the door before it closed.
"Why did you agree to any of that?" Galmar nearly whined.
"What were you thinking?!" Jorlief looked ready to faint.
"Don't you see? Everything will now be very much in our favor; the Dragonborn will win the war for us."
"But she's a filthy elf!" Galmar nearly yelled.
"Yes, she's an elf, so marrying her can only gain me support from the other races, and our children would bring even more support. She's the perfect edge I've needed this whole time. And no Jarl would dare challenge my right to the throne when the Dragonborn will be sharing it with me, she's thane in almost every hold and respected by many."
"And what if she's just an Imperial spy come to wed and bed you and then slit your throat in the middle of the night?" Galmar countered.
I laughed at my friend, "I doubt the Imperials would go to all that trouble so soon after Helgen, and she offered me her head on a pike in the event of her failure. You worry too much Galmar; this is going to be fun." I smiled as many images of what could come in the future began flashing through my mind.