Story Summary: She was Jarl of Solitude. He was Jarl of Windhelm. There were two opposites end of the spectrum, completely different from each other. Cold, ice blue eyes met clear summer skies. A smirk slipped onto his lips, and they both knew that the challenge had begun.

Warning: This story will contain gore, language, death, sexual content, and many other situations some may find unsuitable to read. Posting this story on any other website without my sole permission is not allowed.

Disclaimer: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim is the property of Bethesda Game Studios. Other characters and plot independent of Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim original creation are my property. I, Decepticon-silverstreak, in no way make any profit from this story. Do not take/use any material from this story without my express permission.

Dedication: To MawillaStormcloak, who helped me out with ironing the plot bunnies on this story, stuck with me, and just helping me in general with the story! Don't know what I would do without you!

You are the hole in my head
You are the space in my bed
You are the silence in between what I thought
And what I said

You are the night time fear
You are the morning when it's clear
When it's over you'll start
You're my head
You're my heart

~No Light, No Light by Florence and the Machine

Chapter One

One Fight Too Many

Death was an old friend of Jarl Elisif. It had hovered over her since she was born. Elisif was born when the Great War was still freshly ground into everyone's mind, the Empire picking itself up from the Aldmeri Dominion, which had ruthlessly cut them down. Then, her dear mother had died giving birth to her stillborn brother. It chased her all the way up to the final days of the rebellion, when Ulfric succeeded. Elisif supposed it was going to follow her until Death spreads its dark hand over her, and take her from Nirn up to Sovngarde.

Elisif sighed as Falk and Erikur argued endlessly over menial things. The day was almost at its end, the sun setting in the west casting its reddish-orange beams over the interior of the Blue Castle as night began to start. The ache in her back was minor, but was incessantly nagging at her. Bryling must have noticed, for she walked over, her features as sharp as the steel sword that was attached to her hip. She was a fine Thane who held honor and tradition highly, but was constantly butting heads with Erikur who only wanted authority and money. Because of this, the court sometimes had to bear with their shouting matches.

"My Jarl, you must rest. Ulfric and his men won't be bothering you for some time. Skyrim needs to heal, and he acknowledges that. I will fetch a servant to make a bath for you." Bryling spoke sternly, and Elisif knew that there was no point to argue, even if she was the Jarl.

"Thank you Bryling. I will finish up here, and then retire to my chambers for the evening." She spoke softly, and the Thane nodded, her dawn brown hair twisting as she turned on the boot, and then marched her way down the hall to fetch Erdi to prepare a bath. Elisif knew she wasn't a huge help to the court, for her lack of inexperience and knowledge to lead a city. She heard what people said about her: a puppet, nothing more than a figure head for the court to control. The thought saddened her.

"Falk, I am going to retire for the night. Any questions can wait till the morn. It has been a long day." She stood up, enjoying the feeling of her protesting muscles stretch. It was the month of Morning Star; the weather was brutally cold, unforgiving to any who ventured out of the warmth of their homes. Falk nodded to her, and then turned his back to Erikur to keep arguing. Elisif allowed a small smile to seep onto her face. Some things never change. Bolgeir gave a small tilt of the head to her as Elisif passed, and she returned it as she began walking towards the direction of her room, desperate to wash away the stress from the day that had piled up.

Haafinger had many problems that demanded to be answered at once. Elisif knew she was young and not very experienced for she was only nineteen. A child most would say. General Tullius had always helped her make major choices, but he really never had time to teach her; he had a war to win. The court had also helped her out tremendously, letting her know if the decision was actually worth doing so. Elisif was learning each day how to help her people, her husband's people, and it was not easy.

Walking into the room, the large, wooden bath greeted her as Erdi was sprinkling Fire Salts into the water. Steam began to curl out of it, and she nodded to Elisif.

"Jarl Elisif, is there anything else you need?"

"No, I am fine Erdi. Thank you for the bath." Elisif sighed as she walked over to the bottles full of oils, looking for her favorite.

"I am just doing my duty, Jarl Elisif. Enjoy the rest of your night." With that she closed the wood door and left Elisif standing there. She took off her circlet, rubbing at her forehead, and then began to strip each layer of clothing she wore. She dumped them on the ground, then looked down at her left hand. The gold ring of Matrimony stared up at her. Torygg. The sharp ache in her heart burned, rage and terror flooding her mind as she thought of the man responsible for his death in the first place.

Ulfric Stormcloak.

A rotten excuse of a man, who would coldly cut down someone, someone loved and cherished for his own damn gain. She hated him. Oh how she hated him, her blood ran hot when she thought of him. Elisif would never deny that; she prayed to the Divines that he would meet true justice at the end of the headsman's axe. That he would pay for the crimes he committed against Skyrim.

But she was also terrified of him. The way he could just say an order to have someone dead, the great power he know held. That cold, calculating look in his eyes. The way he seemed to stare daggers into her soul, it truly made her want to fleer in terror like a fragile rabbit from a vicious bear.

Elisif sighed as she looked at herself in the mirror. Dark circles sunk underneath her bright, blue eyes. Once beautiful, straight auburn hair had turned frizzy and dull, its shine gone. Her eyes looked bleak, glassy as if drugged or swarmed by sickness. A small sob racked through her. If Torygg saw her now, what would he say about her? Elisif still remembered his breath on her neck, a gentle hand on her cheek as her spoke softly to her.

"My fair Elisif." The name initially had stuck onto her and soon the court and all of Solitude had begun calling her Elisif the Fair. It stung every time she heard someone say it, another reminder of her husband.

She slipped into the steaming water, sighing as it engulfed her body. The oils worked wonders on her tired muscles and she grabbed another bottle, and lathering her hair. The tub began to fill with more bubbles, but it was the last thing on her mind; she finally had time to relax. However, Ulfric kept bombarding his way into her mind, haunting Elisif with his image. The final day of the rebellion was playing in her head, Ulfric practically demanding her to surrender.

A soldier cried out. "What about Jarl Elisif?" She felt the pinpricks of eyes from every direction, the Dragonborn, Ulfric, Galmar staring at her. Elisif ignored them and held her head high. The soldiers assigned to protect Elisif as the city fell under siege were cut down as they grabbed her to bring to him. A bitter taste filled her mouth.

Ulfric turned his piercing gaze on her, a smirk slipping onto his lips.

"Yes, what about Lady Elisif? Will she put aside her personal hatred for me, and her misplaced love for the emperor and his coin, so that the suffering of our people will end?"

Elisif wanted to scream out in rage, for she never supported the Empire just because of the gold. This whole damn war would have never had happened if Ulfric wouldn't have killed Torygg; he was contemplating of separating from the Empire but Ulfric was an ambitious and impatient wanting it to be done immediately and took things in his own hands! She could feel her face burn red as Ulfric kept going.

"Will she acknowledge that it is we Nords who will determine Skyrims's future? Will she swear fealty to me, so all may know that we are at peace, and a new day has dawned?" The courtyard went silent as they all waited for her to answer. Elisif could see the faces of every man, woman, and child she let down as the spoke the two simple words.

"I do."

After all, who was she to deny Ulfric Stormcloak?