Irileth still smiled at the memory of their kiss on the porch of Dragonsreach, his arms wrapped tightly around her. For the first time in her life, Irileth felt as if she wanted something more than battle. However, the memory would have to sustain her. It had been months since she had last seen him, Fjolar having set off on his next adventure, simply telling her that he would return soon with the answer to their problems. She trusted him and thus kept her thoughts on the subject limited, not wanting to begin to doubt the man she loved.
So as she stood there, Proventus and Hrongar arguing as usual over what Irileth considered to be inane and stupid. Balgreuf simply smiled, enjoying these childish shows while the doors to the palace opened. Irileth had to suppress a gasp as she saw who it was. He was wearing his horned helmet of course but she could see who it was. She knew him. She masked her face, not wanting the Jarl to guess at her feelings while the man in question smiled as the dragonborn approached. "Fjolar, such a pleasure to see you again my friend. What bring-" his words die on his lips as his eyes land on the man for the first time and it is made clear that he has backed the opposite side in the war. Fjolar the dragonborn was a stormcloak.
He was quiet at first, simply approaching the Jarl, an axe in his hand. Irileth made to move out of habit but he simply smiled at her, disarming her instantly. She could see in his eyes that no matter how confusing the situation was she would have to trust him. So she did.
"Wha-what is the meaning of this?" Balgreuf asks to which the dragonborn takes a few more steps and hands the axe off to a bewildered Jarl. "Ulfric sends you his axe" he says simply, his voice full of menace and the promise of violence. Balgreuf simply narrows his eyes and nods in understanding. "So it appears that he does" he says before turning to Proventus. "The question is,what do we do with it?".
A heated conversation then takes place, with Proventus urging caution and Irileth, acting on glance towards Fjolar which egged her on, advocating that Balgreuf act. Finally,after minutes of debate Balgreuf hands the axe back to Fjolar. "Return Ulfric's axe to him. Proventus, we must prepare for visitors. Write to general Tullius…." his words die off in Irileth's ears as Fjolar bows and takes the axe,turning and walking past her. He winks, and to her that is all that is needed in the way of assurance. She watches him exit the Hall and the door close behind him.
The weeks pass and the activity around the city increases in tempo as legionaries cramping whatever space was left. Buildings are sealed off and barricades are built, all attempts to keep the stormcloaks out were being made. Even Tullius had come to inspect the defences, wanting to assure the Jarl that his position was secure. Balgreuf still worried and he could be seen flitting about the palace and city, trying to put a brave face on. Irileth could see things that others couldn't. The battle was already over. A Jarl fearing defeat,a populace divided and a foe that was implacable. While Irileth disliked Ulfric and all that he stood for she also rspected the man and understood what he had been through. While her people would not benefit from a independent Skyrim she couldn't fault the lands nords from wanting it to be. They wanted freedom just as much as the Dunmer did and the Aldmeri Dominion were not allowing anyone the benefit of self rule.
She while she disagreed she understood.
It also helped Ulfric's cause that Fjolar, the dragonborn, had joined his cause.
It was after a month of tense waiting that the quiet finally broke and the civil war came to Whiterun. Late in the afternoon the stormcloaks assembled outside the city within view from the walls. Minutes later the barrage started, catapults shattering against the wall and shaking the very earth. Balgreuf trembled as he donned his armor, showing Irileth what happened when one because indolent and lazy. He was afraid of facing battle. She could barely contain her excitement for what would happen at the end of the battle. Fjolar was assaulting these walls, not for Ulfric, but for her. She knew it.
The sounds of battle came closer and closer as the trickle of wounded soldiers falling back became a flood. The stormcloaks were triumphing at the battle and the closer they got, the more fearful and angry the Jarl became. He snapped at Proventus who was even more fearful than the Jarl if that was possible and slapped his daughter for crying. Irileth simply grit her teeth, her anger at the Jarl being mistaken for anger at the stormcloaks.
It wasn't much longer until they crashed through the front doors of Dragonsreach, the guards guarding it being cut down in a moment, Gjalmar Stone Fists hammer scything through them as if they were warm butter while Fjolar, right beside Gjalmar, notched an arrow into his bow and killed a guard approaching from the right intending to ram his sword into Fjolar's side. Balgreuf is up instantly his sword drawn and his intent finally being to fight. Irileth is honor bound to be beside him and she is, charging at Gjalmar and thrusting her sword at his shoulder blade, a thrust easily deflected by the Giants war hammer.
Fjolar however, engaged Balgreuf and in a few expert moves Fjolar had the Jarl on his back, is sword ready to deliver a killing blow to the Jarl. "Sttttoooop!" he cried out, halting the dragonborn from killing the disarmed man. "We surrender. Stop" he called out, his will to fight completely gone. Irileth and the other guards dropped their swords, most grudgingly, wanting to continue the fight , but Irileth was more than happy to stop, a fact Gjalmar caught onto instantly. She had to wonder if he had told the man anything.
"So you do accept our victory then? I expected more of a fight but at the very least we took the city." Gjalmar says simply before looking towards Fjolar. "Ice Veins...you will report to Jarl Ulfric and tell him what has happened here. Whiterun is his" he added interrupted only by the opening of the doors as Vignar Gray Mane entered the palace, escorted by two guards. "Ahh Vignar Gray Mane, I noticed the absence of your family on the walls" Balgreuf says as he stands, shaking and sweating from the stress and exertion of everything. The two instantly began to argue and Fjolar and Gjalmar moved to either side to flank Vignar. "You gave me no choice Balgreuf. Skyrim belongs to the nords and you were not a true Nord"
Irileth could care less for the petty arguments her eyes moving to Fjolar's as his move to her his eyes intense and filled with what Irileth thought was desire. It made her shake to see such unrestrained emotion.
"My family will be gone by the end of the day" comes Balgreuf's defeated reply. "But Mark my words, this is not over old man. You hear me? This is not over" he shouted to Vignar who had moved past him before hissing at Fjolar. "And you? A stormcloak? I thought better of you".
Fjolar simply smiled and nodded at the Jarl. "And I always thought the worst of you". Balgreuf makes no response and makes to move away before being halted by Fjolar's voice. "There is one more thing Balgreuf. I defeated you in battle. By Nord tradition I have the right to demand something of you" he says,stopping the former Jarl from even moving. He simply turns his head over his shoulders and snarls.
"And what more could you take from me dragonborn? You've taken my hold, forced me and my family into exile and defeated me in battle. What more could you want?" He asks his rage barely bubbling over.
Fjolar simply smiles. "Your housecarl Irileth. I desire her" he says without waiting and Irileth almost gasps at the openness of his claim. Balgreuf simply snarls, looking towards the ground and gritting his teeth. Fjolar had spared him after defeating him in battle. By Nord tradition he must acquiesce to this demand or risk what little of his honor remained. He closed his eyes and his lips curled as if he had just eaten something distasteful. "Irileth, I release you from my service and bond you too Fjolar the dragonborn" he say and without another word exits the Hall to move to the living quarters where he and his family dwell. Gjalmar simply smiles and looks at a wall. "You know with all the imperials scattering it would be quite dangerous to send you out to Windhelm. Stay the night Ice Veins and set out in the morning" he says simply before pressing a key into Fjolar's hand. "This is Vignar's gift to you, for ensuring his rise".
With that Gjalmar leaves, the door closing loudly behind him as Irileth looks down at the key in Fjolar's hand. "That is the key to Breezehome. It's in the plains district" she says simply, her emotions hidden behind a mask of uncertainty.
It seems like moments later to her that they are within the confines of Breezehome, having seen that the exterior and interior were undamaged by the siege. The sounds of celebration could still be heard from outside but Irileth was not focused only on the rough hands that were eagerly tearing away at her armor. Her lips were pressed eagerly to his, her hands moving across his back after she had slipped him out of his cuirass. It isn't long until her chest plate falls away, revealing her pert breasts,firm and round topped with dark nipples. Fjolar's lips eagerly move from hers to suckle along her jawline and neck before moving to the sensitive bud and suckling it harshly.
Irileth gasps loudly as she presses further into his mouth, her hands going anywhere the could. She was on fire, her whole body felt as it it was on fire. She had never made love like this and she wanted to relish every moment of it. Within a few more minutes both were fully naked and Fjolar was sheathed within her, his face buried in her neck as he thrusted into her. "Ohh gods" she moaned lovingly, thanking them that Breezehome had one bed that was ready for such activities. "I love you Fjolar" she moans,her hands running through his hair which increases his tempo. "I love you too Irileth" he says, his breath tickling against her neck. It's only a few moments after this that Irileth feels herself tighten around Fjolar and she finishes, loudly screaming out his name. Fjolar is right behind her, emptying his seed into her.
He remains atop her for a few more moments before he rolls onto his back beside her his arms instantly wrapping around her waist and pulling her to him. She simply let's him, smiling contentedly as she lays her head on his muscled chest, her other hand resting on his pectoral. Her auburn hair was splayed out over him as well and he looked down at her, nothing but love in his eyes. "I..well I would be lying if I said that that wasn't the best I've ever had" she said gently, rubbing his chest as he kissed her head. "You're all mine" Fjolar said lovingly. Irileth didn't say anything but she smiled simply, thinking over everything that had been done and it was secretly on her behalf.
"So you are Ulfric's man now. What does that mean for us?" She asks tilting her head up to look at him, seriousness in her eyes. He however smiles and simply brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. "Ulfric knows about us and he knows that I intend to marry you. That is how I convinced him to better the lives of all Dunmer living in Windhelm and sign a oath to protect the existing rights of all non nords living in Skyrim. That was the price of my cooperation. Ulfric is a good man Irileth. I promise you that" he says simply. It's enough for her. He would always be enough for her and if he said that Ulfric deserved to be high king she would fight for Ulfric.
"You know exactly what to do Fjolar" she coos out lovingly and then teasingly,her finger tracing along his jawline. "Perhaps you should consider making a bid to be high king" she says jokingly, mirth and love in her eyes. She seems so relaxed and at ease, the polar opposite of what he had seen when he first met her. In response to her he barks outs laugh. "Leave politics to Ulfric a d war to Gjalmar. All I want is to buy a nice home and farm, my beautiful wife on my arm" he says lovingly,his hand eagerly tracing along her nude side,appreciating her curves and groping and squeezing when he could. She giggled in response, wiggling in his grasp.
"That sounds like a dream that is within your grasp my love" she says before growing nervous. "People will talk Fjolar. A hero of the stormcloaks married to a Dunmer?" She asks sadly , nervous at what he might say. " I...I would understand if you wanted to marry a Nord woman. You've done so much for me already that I release you from your oath. You've freed me from service to Balgreuf after all" she says to which he simply smiles,his hand going to the side of her face. "i don't want to a Nord wife. I want you Irileth and as to people who speak well after all I've done for Skyrim and them they can leave me and my incredibly gorgeous wife alone" he says before giving her a quick swat on the ass. Irileth let's out an eep of surprise but smirks, her doubts completely assuaged before she moves to sit atop his waist, leaning down to kiss Fjolar passionately.
The war could wait and so could Skyrim, for a night at the very least. Irileth was free and once again bound but this time, to a man she would follow to Oblivion and back.