-Warning-

This is a bit darker than my usual stuff. See notes at the end of this chapter

Disclaimer: I don't own Skyrim anything recognizable belongs to Bethesda.

The sullen overcast sky matched the mood of the young dunmer as she carefully made her way through the streets of Windhelm. She was very small and from a distance looked like a youth in the ill-fitting armor she wore. Clothing was the least of her worries. At the moment finding, her way to the Palace of the Kings was enough for Gilse to think about. But she could not help questioning her decision to join Ulfrics rebellion. It was hard to connect the dignified nord she admired at Helgen, with the conditions in his crumbling city. In the fortnight since her escape, she'd ignored troubling rumors about racial intolerance in Windhelm. But, it was impossible to overlook what she was seeing. The Gray Quarter home to the proud dunmer, was nothing less than depressing. .

Gaining entry to the keep was a lot easier than she had expected. The guard manning the archway glanced at her weathered Stormcloak colors and waved her inside. Warmth enveloped Gilse as the massive doors closed behind her. She paused in awe, the throne room was impressive. Banners depicting the Bear Of Eastmarch, adorned Gray stone walls at least two stories high. Threadbare blue carpet lined the floor on each side of the banquet table which dominated the center of the room. Ulfric Jarl of Windhelm sat slouched on the ancient stone throne clearly visible at the end of the room. A stocky nord wearing headgear fashioned from a bear's head stood casually near the throne.

Ulfric watched expressionless as Gilse approached him. "Only the foolish or courageous would approach a Jarl without summons," he stated. She inched closer to him hoping to make a bigger impact despite her size. Ulfric raised his eyebrows "make it quick I'm a busy man". She groaned inwardly, this was not going well. She said, "I have traveled far to come here..". Ulfric cut her off, "What do you want little elf?". "I've thought of becoming a Stormcloak," she began before he interrupted her again. "Speak To Galmar," he said already turning away from her.

"A word with you first," she requested. Ulfric paused and crossed his arms over his chest. "Speak," was all he said. "What will you do about the concerns of the dunmer here in Windhelm ?" she asked looking him straight in the eye. Ulfric sighed tiredly and said, " I have more important things to deal with such as all of Skyrim." It was Gilse's turn to raise her eyebrows. "You're using the war as an excuse to ignore your own hold Jarl Ulfric?" she asked. "Why am I wasting time talking to you little elf?" he wondered out loud. "Will High King Ulfric also neglect Skyrim as well as Windhelm?" she mocked. Ulfric lowered his voice so she had to lean towards him to catch his words, " I'll only offer one warning little elf, allow your betters to worry about the faith of Skyrim."

She had to have the last word. "I thought better of you Jarl Ulfric, at least I have honor," said Gilse. Ulfric stood and took a step towards her, but stopped suddenly "You dare to walk in here and berate me all the while wearing my colors?" he demanded. He looked toward the stocky nord and said, "Is she addled Galmar? She has not earned the right to wear that uniform". Ulfric looked down his nose at her and said, "you are free to go as soon as you remove my colors." Gilse shook her head and started to inch back up only to run smack into Galmar. She had not seen him move. Ulfric smirked at her "Galmar strip her," he ordered.

Gilse knew she couldn't afford to panic. She was knew exactly where this could lead. "Don't touch me, I will send the armor by courier, " she stated. Ulfric shook his head. "Every moment you wear them is repugnant to me," he said. He scowled at her "You can hand them over willingly or Galmar can help you your choice," he said. Gilse felt her mouth go dry. She watched Ulfric unable to utter a word. He watched her in turn for a few minuets. Eventually, he inclined his head towards her and said, "Galmar". Gilse raised her chin determined to keep her dignity. To her credit she tried. She stood rigid with her head held high, a look of defiance upon her face.

The moment the Galmar reached for her, all of her resolve crumbled. A short but violent struggle ensued, the outcome of which was predictable. Galmar being the stronger of the two succeeded. Gilse found herself separated from her clothing. He was not satisfied. His hands on her shoulders forced her to her knees subservient at Ulfrics feet. She heard the scraping sound of a blade leaving its scabbard and closed her eyes tightly expecting a blow. Instead she felt a tug as he released her hair from its binding to tumble around her shoulders. Galmar dropped the armor on the floor slightly in front of her. He tossed her undergarments into a separate untidy pile. He brushed his hands together and returned to Ulfrics side.

Silence fell across the room. Gilse was acutely aware of all the eyes riveted on her. She prized her modesty, the humiliation was overwhelming. She felt the blush creeping over her body. Hot tears squeezed from between her eyes. Someone snorted. If possible even more tears ran down her face. She tried to stop. She didn't want them to see her cry.

Ulfric Stormcloak future High King of Skyrim, who acted indifferent to the concerns of the dunmer, really looked at this one. Although he didn't realize it, he lost his heart at that moment. She was exquisite petite and feminine. Her skin tone appeared more reddish than normally found among the dunmer. Darker gray freckles peppered her small perky chest and most of her shoulders. Her face hinted at the angular brow usually associated with elves. But it was not pronounced. He wondered if she was of mixed race. She curled her body forward causing her dark hair to cover her chest. The sound of Galmar clearing his throat brought him back to the present.

Gilse raised her head enough to look longingly at her undergarments. Ulfric followed her gaze "The fact that you lost them shows your ignorance in tactics. Had you not fought him Stone-Fist would have left them to you," said Ulfric. He studied her face. There was something familiar about her, teasing the edge of his consciousness. Ulfric sighed "State your name". Dark lashes veiled her expressive eyes and she didn't answer him . Ulfric turned to his steward "Jorleif fetch a whip," he requested.

He was aware of the incredulous looks he was receiving from around the room and was slightly offended. He had no plans to actually use the whip on her. Vague threats often got results. He turned back to her and snapped, "You are trying my patience". The girl squared her shoulders slightly lifting her chin. "Gilse Ondyn," she said so low he could barely hear her. Ulfric turned to Galmar "I think she has some self-preservation," he said sarcastically.

He hadn't noticed his housecarl watching him before looking thoughtfully at the elf. Galmar had an odd glint in his blue eyes. Ulfric stepped back before addressing his second in command, "Stone-Fist she put her hands on your person, so I'll leave you to decide her punishment."

Galmar approached the young elf and stood looking down at her. He said, "I think the wee lass has gained insight into proper court etiquette." He reached down and tugged at a lock of her hair almost playfully causing her to jump. "I'd say a promise to mend her ways and...," He paused mid-sentence and stood watching her while stroking his bead. "A little decorum and a fine should suffice," said Galmar. He met Ulfrics startled gray eyes and shrugged his shoulders.

Galmar Stone-Fist watched Galis's reaction as he passed judgment on her. She gasped when he stated the hefty amount of her fine. Ignoring Ulfrics questioning looks, he raised the young elf to her feet. "Jorleif here will escort you to the barracks to settle your debt provided you have the coin," he informed her. Jorleif came forward to draped a cloak around her shoulders. Galmar chuckled inwardly. He had not missed Ulfrics reaction to the elf. It was strange seeing him act like a normal man towards a comely girl. Nor had he missed the nord standing in the shadows watching this whole affair. It looked like Ulfric might have some competition.

A/N: This story was inspired by a prompt to explore the more narcissistic side of Ulfric. I challenged myself to write something so different. It has themes of coercion and light physical violence such as pushing. Please review and let me know what you think.