I recently found my Skyrim game (MY WORLD IS BACK ON TRACK, THANK GOD) and I'm fangirling over Ulfric; I can't contain it. So, I've been inspired to write an Ulfric x OC fanfic. With chapters! Let me know what you think! Enjoy!

~STCabbie~

Disclaimer - I don't own Skyrim, but I do own Imsine and any other characters that aren't actually from Skyrim itself.

Imsine's dress link: . /images/black%20gold%

(xx)

Ulfric shifted on his throne, trying, in vain, to get comfortable. His Thane stood beside him, leaning against the regal chair, trying not to laugh.

She was doing a terrible job at it.

A Wood Elf trotted up to the throne, sinking into a hesitant and sullen bow, before straightening up and glaring at his Jarl.

'Your Highness, I have a complaint!'

'What is it this time, Faldil?'

'Elbero's damned goat has eaten one of my cabbages!'

'What do you expect him to do?' the Thane asked, an eyebrow raised. She stood up straight, crossing her arms over her chest. 'And now that I think about it, you should be addressing Jarl Ulfric as "majesty".'

'Your... Majesty... who is this woman?'

Ulfric smirked slightly, 'Why, she's my Thane. My most loyal of warriors.'

'I-I see. Anyway, your Majesty, about this goat...'

'Yes, yes, I'll have Elbero pay you for the cabbage and keep his goat tethered.' From the throne, the king looked at his faithful companion, handing her a pre-written scroll. 'I always have one of these scrolls handy. Imsine, can you handle this for me?'

'Whatever you say, boss!' she chirped. 'I won't be long!'

Patting her thigh, Imsine summoned her war-dog, Vigilance, and strode out of the hall with him. Ulfric watched her go, looking after her fondly.

(xx)

Outside, Imsine breathed in the crisp, winter air. The patrolling guard nodded politely at her and walked on.

The Thane of Windhelm poked her head through the door of Candlehearth hall.

'Has anyone seen Elbero?'

'No, my Thane,' various customers uttered.

The owner, however, smiled. 'I saw him heading off towards his farm.'

'Thanks, Elda!' Imsine called, leaving the inn. She slipped through the huge gates and out the city, mounting her faithful black horse, Shadowmere.

The demonic beast cantered away from Windhelm, and then down a winding track. After fifteen minutes, they reached a series of desolate little farms. A Wood Elf was stood in the front garden of the first, tending to his carrots and potatoes.

'Afternoon, Elbero!'

'My Thane! How can I help?'

'I'm afraid your goat ate one of Faldil's cabbages, and he's come crying to Ulfric about it.'

'And?'

Imsine pulled out a scroll, clearing her throat. 'By order of High King Ulfric, Jarl of Windhelm and Solitude, you, Elbero Jufgul, are to pay a sum of 3 gold pieces for the digestion of one of Faldil Rendgur's cabbages. You are also to keep the goat that committed the offence tethered.'

The Wood Elf dug around in his pocket, and produced 3 gold coins. 'There you are, dear. I'll tie old Ingrid up first chance I get. She's locked in the house at the minute. Be a darling and tell Faldil that I'm sorry, will you?'

'Of course, Elber. I'll see you later!'

'Bye, dear!'

Shadowmere soon obediently trotted off down the stone track, twitching his tail.

(xx)

For some reason, when Imsine arrived back to the Palace of the Kings, she was greeted by a small, fat man holding a rather long piece of leather.

'Come with me, darling!' he chirped, grabbing her hand. 'We have work to do to make you presentable for tonight!'

'What do you mean?'

'There's going to be a big, big, big, big, big ball tonight! Didn't you know? Oh, silly girl, surely you were told! After all, you are the Thane. How have you been eating? I'm assuming you have a nice figure. I really can't tell underneath that bulky armour...'

'Bulky? This armour isn't bulky! It's barely even armour!'

The Arch-Mage robes of the College of Winterhold cloaked Imsine's body. Even though she was a Nord, the woman preferred magic - less blood and more fire.

Ulfric strode in from the kitchens, a large smile decorating his face. 'Imsine, I see you've met Hulgar. He's going to get you dressed for tonight.'

'What's tonight?!' Imsine yelled, annoyed.

The High King simply smiled, brown eyes twinkling. 'You'll see,' he called, turning and disappearing to see his steward.

With a click of the fingers, three young women appeared behind Hulgar, buzzing. They each held a pile of dresses and ribbon, all armed with their own long strip of leather.

'Come, come!' Hulgar chirped, sweeping the Thane away. 'First of all, you'll need a bath. Valin, go prepare a tub. Vorid, Ilfhil, come with me and we'll get her measured up.'

'Measured up?'

Vorid, the Nord girl with platinum-blonde hair, flung open the door to the bedroom dedicated for Thanes. She lay the dresses she carried over a low cupboard reverently, caressing them like they were made of pure ebony.

Ilfhil, the brunette Nord, grabbed a basket from Gods know where, and started digging around, producing brushes, Dwemer oil, hair-clips and brightly-coloured ribbon.

Hulgar cast the bed a scathing look, before hesitantly perching on the edge of it. 'Now, then. We have quite a bit of work to do. Personally, I never would've expected the Dragonborn to be a High Elf!'

Imsine bristled slightly. 'And? Is it a problem?'

'Oh, no, dearling! I quite admire High Elves - they have an excellent sense of fashion. Radiant Raiment, in Solitude? Oh, they have some fine clothing. Anyway, enough of that. What colour dress are we going to put you in? Girls?'

Ilfhil smiled eagerly, picking up a random dress. 'I was thinking pale greens and yellows. Very nature-like.'

Vorid picked out a different dress. 'No, no, the dress definitely needs to be purple.'

'Excuse me?' the third girl whispered. 'The Thane's bath is ready.'

'Excellent, excellent. Valin, accompany our new friend to her tub and help her wash. I'll choose a dress.'

Valin, another Nord girl with strawberry-blonde hair, gave Imsine a small smile, guiding her down the hall to the bathing room. The wooden tub was full of warm water. Lavender and rose leaves were sprinkled across the surface. Numerous bottles of deliciously-scented lotions were lined up on a small table. There was even a large wool towel, neatly folded and waiting to be used.

The young Nord turned around while Imsine removed her clothing. She didn't turn around until she heard the subtle splash of the water.

'Would you like me to wash your hair, my Thane?'

'Yes, thank you. That'd save us some time.'

There was nothing but silence for the next thirty minutes, except for the occasional protest of the water.

(xx)

Jarl Ulfric was sat up straight on his throne, rather than slouching like usual. Anyone who was anyone was at this party. It was going to be out of this realm, supposedly.

When the last guest had been checked off of the mile-long list, Ulfric stood up, throwing out his arms.

'My friends! We all know what this party is about, and it seems that you did not fail me with keeping it a secret from the guest of honour! I am very thankful for this, as it will make our gathering very enjoyable indeed!'

Proventus gave a slight cough, nodding towards the stairs. 'And without any further interruptions, please welcome tonight's guest of honour, your Thane and my closest friend, Imsine Elmthorn!'

Ulfric's court mage, Wuunferth the Unliving, cast the spell Magelight. Two large balls of light stuck to the ceiling, bathing the person underneath in a heavenly glow.

Her golden hair had been scattered around her shoulders in loose ringlets. The dress she wore was made of ebony-black and Dwemer-gold silk. The heels she wore appeared to made from glass, and a jewelled bracelet was clasped around her left wrist.

After an eerie silence, a slow but strong applause gathered as Imsine made her way down the staircase.

'My Listener!' a familiar, squeaky voice shouted. Cicero threw himself into his best friend's arms, tears leaking from his eyes. 'Oh, my Listener! If the Night Mother could see you now...'

The ghost of Lucien Lachance drifted over, smiling warmly. 'I can sense a change in the Void. The Dread Father is smiling over you.'

Nazir and Babette joined them, with small grins. Nazir held a bottle of Black-Briar Mead, and was glugging down the contents.

'It's a pleasure to know one of our family is on the right path,' the young vampire girl remarked, smoothing the skirt of her dress. 'You have our congratulations.'

'Thank you,' Imsine smiled. Turning her head, she caught a large group of boisterous men by the alcohol. 'Ah, there's another one of my families. You should go talk to my friends from the College of Winterhold. I'm sure they'd help you with some magic, if you ask nicely.'

With that, Imsine rushed to the alcohol, Lucien floating behind her.

'Brynjolf!'

'Lass!'

The red-haired Nord swept the High Elf into a bone-crushing hug, chuckling. 'Look at you, you duckling. You've blossomed!'

Sapphire smiled reluctantly. 'Wow, boss. You look... nice.'

'I'll take that as a compliment.'

'Please do.'

Vex and Delvin appeared, holding hands.

'Ooh, boss, you're looking fancy!' Vex chuckled.

'You'll have to pop into the Ragged Flagon soon for a drink,' Dlevin said. 'Vekel's been pining for you.'

'Ah, Delv,' Brynjolf called. 'Don't say anything you'll regret.'

'What are you talking about?' Imsine asked. Brynjolf simply tapped the side of his nose and winked.

'Go on, lass. I think the High King wishes to talk to you.'

'Oh? But I haven't talked to the College members yet. Or my friends from the Companions.'

'Gods, you've been all over Skyrim with these bloody guilds.' The red-head clucked his tongue. 'Go on, lass, off you get.'

With a heavy sigh, Imsine turned around, only to bump into Proventus.

(xx)

'Ah, my Thane!' the man cried. 'It is time for a most important announcement, if I do say so myself. Come with me, if you please.'

He swept the High Elf away quickly, towards the throne. Ulfric was sat in his usual slumped position, eyes darting over the crowd. The occasional guest would swan up, bow or courtesy, give a few gushing words, and then disappear into the bustle of people.

Proventus caught his eye, and gave a swift nod.

'Imsine, please go to the middle of the room, and wait until you're given further instructions.'

'Wait, what?'

'Please, my Thane. Otherwise this won't work.'

'Oh, well, okay then.' Imsine walked off, heels clicking on the floor.

Across the room, Ulfric sighed, closing his eyes for a brief moment.

'Ulfric, she's ready.'

'Ah, yes. Very well.' He got up, and silence immediately fell over the guests.

The High King cleared his throat once more. 'My friends!' he began, making his way down the steps from his throne. 'I have one more important announcement to make. Actually, I suppose it's more of a question.'

The crowd parted to make a path for him, murmuring excitedly.

'This person has been by my side through many... dramatic happenings. She led some of my troops during the battle for Whiterun. She helped reclaim and also conquer many a fort for my army to inhabit and protect. She is the reason that I am here before you, remaining as the Jarl of Windhelm, and also as your High King.'

The bear of a man was now stood about a foot away from Imsine, looking down at her.

'She is my most trusted and precious friend. Although, I was hoping for her to be more than that.'

The murmurs burst into quiet exclamations.

'And it is with great nervousness that I ask...'

He gulped slightly, pulling a sparkling jewelled bracelet from his back pocket.

'Imsine Elmthorn... will you be my wife?'

Imsine's eyes widened. Her trembling hands reached up to his, and she cracked a breath-taking smile.

'Yes.'