A/N – This story idea hit me right before I went to bed, so needless to say I was up all night writing it. I wrote this because I feel there are so many stories out there where people don't detail why they made the allegiance they did. Such a big decision says a lot about a character.
My apologies also to those waiting for the next chapter of The Midnight Path. I am having a lot of trouble with that story.
Antiah was many things: Companion, mage, Thane of Whiterun and Solitude, sister, daughter, friend. She was also the best damned archer Skyrim had ever seen… oh, and let's not forget, she was also the Dragonborn. But the thing she loved being most of all was an excellent judge of character. Antiah knew people, could read them like a book, even when they tried so hard to hide themselves away. It was a gift that made situations like the one she currently found herself in that much more enjoyable.
Before tonight, what little contact Antiah had with Ulfric Stormcloak involved chopping blocks, nearly being set on fire by an angry dragon, or the odd bounty or two. No doubt Ulfric had considered her just another sellsword – one of the numerous adventurers found across Skyrim clearing out bandit dens or harassing bards in the local inns.
Tonight, things had changed. Tonight was the first time she had presented herself at Ulfric's court as the Dragonborn.
At first there was the general sense of shock and disbelief at the revelation that the Dragonborn had indeed come. Antiah was used to that. She was also used to the happiness and awe exhibited by the commoners, who genuinely believed that she was their saving grace. What was fast proving to be exasperating was the extra thirty seconds of silence from the 'noble' men and women as they processed all the different ways in which the Dragonborn could help them.
If you asked anyone else in the Palace of Kings that night, they would have said that Ulfric was delighted to meet the Dragonborn. He laughed, embraced the slender, dark-haired woman, and made many heartfelt speeches. Antiah saw differently. She saw the strain behind the smile, the slight clenching of teeth, and the subtle twitching of the Jarl's steel blue eyes.
Ulfric Stormcloak was far from happy.
Antiah was willing to bet both her housecarls that if it wasn't for the testimony of the two Gray-Mane sons, she would have been disbelieved and kicked out on her arse, possibly even arrested for desecrating one of the Nords' most sacred traditions or some such. Thanks to Thorald and Avulstein though, Ulfric was forced to accept one simple, unpalatable truth: the Dragonborn of legend was an elf.
And not just any elf; a teeny, tiny Bosmer woman who favoured magic and the bow over a blade. The only way the news could have been any more unpleasant was if Antiah had been a High Elf.
Poor Ulfric, no brawny Nord warrior Dragonborn for him.
The Jarl's reaction to Antiah's revelation was of vital importance, not just for her own future, but for Skyrim's as well. When she had first found herself caught up in the Civil War, Antiah had maintained strict neutrality. As the months went by, however, and the seriousness of her fate became apparent, Antiah realized that she could not escape the inevitable. She would have to choose.
Even though she was not a religious person herself, Antiah sympathized with the Nords' anger at being deprived of Talos worship. It, He, was such an integral part of Skyrim and her people, that the loss was incredibly traumatic. She also shared in the general hatred of the Thalmor. They had no right to decide who was divine or not, and their 'superiorly bred Mer' crap gave every elf a bad name. Antiah could quite happily stick a fork in Ondolemar's eye. Just because the Thalmor said that Talos wasn't a god, didn't make it so. And they sure as Oblivion didn't have the right to roam around Skyrim chucking good people in gaol and torturing them on a whim.
Antiah also had her doubts about Elisif's suitability as a future High Queen of Skyrim. She was so young, so inexperienced, and definitely lacking in political nous. Yes, she might develop the necessary skills as she grew older, but there were no guarantees, and if she were to rule, she needed to be a strong, independent leader from the start – a partner in the Empire, not a puppet.
On a personal level, Antiah had every reason to hate the Imperials. They had, after all, attempted to separate her from her head for no good reason. And the way they treated Ulfric after the Markarth Incident…it really went against her notions of honour and fairness.
But Antiah was a practical elf. She knew that if she'd been in the Emperor's shoes and forced to choose between signing the White-gold Concordat and saving as much as possible, or continuing to fight and watching the Aldmeri Dominion destroy everything, she'd sign the paper, too. Fighting to the death for one's beliefs is a noble sentiment, but one that would have achieved nothing save making things easier for the Dominion. Dead soldiers aren't much use in future battles… unless you're a necromancer.
The Empire has a chance to rebuild, to gather strength for the next battle with the Dominion. And that battle was coming… you only had to chat with Ondolemar in Markath to know that. The Civil War was weakening them all before a common enemy. Divide and conquer, the oldest trick in the war book, and one Ulfric was falling for, although Antiah believed it was a result of Ulfric's overconfidence, rather than stupidity.
Antiah valued honesty, and while the Empire itself ran on the usual lies and deceit found in politics everywhere, she found Elisif to be almost sickening in her earnest desire to help Skyrim, and General Tullius was very upfront about things. He had made it clear that the Empire needed Skyrim to have any chance of defeating the Thalmor, and that he would do practically anything to make that happen. He certainly made no apologies for the necessity of ensuring Elisif's ascension to the throne, and for the need to have people like Siddgeir as Jarl.
The General's gruff, 'what-is-this-Dragonborn-nonsense' was also kind of endearing. Awe and hero worship was only fun for so long, then you just want to vomit, or fus ro dah people into walls.
Ulfric's claims to have Skyrim's best interests at heart, rang hallow in Antiah's opinion. He marched under the banner of Talos, declaring he would win back the Nords' god. Yet the Nords had continued to worship Talos after the Adlmeri victory with little fear of persecution… until Ulfric started agitating for the throne. And as for Ulfric's impassioned speeches about reinstating Talos worship…the hypocrisy of it all was enough to make Antiah crosseyed. To complain about losing their land and god to the elves, when the Nords did the exact same thing to the Forsworn…
No, religion was not Ulfric's cause. It was an excuse, a tool, and one he used with ruthless efficiency to win the people's support. He was after the throne for the power that came with it, and you were either with him or against him. If he had your support, he'd look after you like you were family, but if not, he'd cut you down. There was no middle ground, no compromise. The way he slaughtered all those poor Nords in Markarth for not actively resisting the Forsworn proved that.
What upset Antiah most, however, was Ulfric's behaviour towards her tonight. It was obvious to her that the Jarl did not really want anything to do with her; she was an elf, and elves were the old enemy. She was also a mage, and magic was the weapon of the weak. It was the soul of the dragon that he was after, the power of a Thu'um far stronger than his. Antiah the person mattered not.
Yet there he was, praising her, giving her gifts, inviting her to join the Stormcloaks… acting as if it were no problem at all that she was an elf. Acting as if the Gray Quarter wasn't full of her Dunmer cousins living and dying in squalor, or that the Argonians weren't out on the docks, freezing their tails off.
Antiah held no illusions about Skyrim: racism was rife. But, while the Khajiit were banned from just about everywhere, other humans, Elves, and Argonians were generally accepted in the bigger cities and areas exposed to an Imperial presence. The Stormcloaks, however, made no secret of their desire to drive ALL outsiders out of Skyrim.
If Ulfric had just been open with his dislike of her, had just come out and said 'I want to be king, and could use your power' things may have been different. She would have at least had some respect for him, and admired him for more than just his charisma and ability to make pretty speeches.
But no, Ulfric had decided to launch a charm offensive, as if Antiah was as empty-headed and incapable of independent thought as any of the noble maidens scattered about the hall trying to catch his fancy. It was condescending, and, gods, did Antiah hate that.
At least it made her current mission easier; she no longer doubted her decision. She made peace with her choice, certain now that it was the right one. She no longer looked for a reason to change her mind.
Antiah stood and calmly walked over to where the Jarl was seated. Galmar Stone-Fist and Jorleif the steward sat on either side of him, tankards of mead in their hands. All three looked at her as she approached.
"What can I do for you, Dragonborn?" Ulfric asked with a charming smile.
"Nothing, Jarl Ulfric," Antiah replied, clenching her teeth. She despised being called 'Dragonborn', as if she had no name of her own. "I merely have a message to pass along." Antiah placed her burden on the table before the Jarl. The glint of skyforge steel drew the attention of many eyes. Silence fell as the man who would be king gazed at the exquisitely crafted axe.
"And whom, pray tell, is this message from?" Ulfric asked, a slight growl to his voice.
"Jarl Balgruuf of Whiterun."
"I see." Ulfric was silent for a few minutes as he regarded Antiah with hard eyes. Jorlief looked disappointed, while Galmar muttered angrily to himself. "I must say, Dragonborn, I am disappointed with you."
"With all due respect, Jarl Ulfric, I don't care."
"Very well then, elf, take Balgruuf's axe back to him. Tell him to expect visitors."
Antiah quickly picked up the weapon and left the Palace of the Kings without a backwards glance. She left Windhelm knowing that when she made her return, it would be at the head of an army.
A/N - During my first play through, I was an Imperial, but I loved Ulfric. I still like him. He is a wonderfully complex character, and I think that a lot of people overlook that. My pet peeve in this fandom is people making an allegiance without really thinking about it. Joining the Stormcloaks because you hate the Thalmor? Honey, everybody hates the Thalmor. Talos worship? Yeah, there's a few hypocrisy issues to deal with/acknowledge around that. Think the Empire's awesome? Ah, they did try and kill you for no good reason, and Elisif is, well, a bit weak. And if you're an elf, khajit, argonian… racism, especially if you're romancing Ulfric.
Each side has its flaws. Explore them.
Personally, as a Stormcloak I got as far as usurping Balgruuf and had to stop. Seriously, I felt like the worst person in the world. It gave me feels. Horrible, horrible feels.