"Good morning, son," The Jarl sighed when Ulfric finally joined the others in the main hall for breakfast.
"It is," Ulfric chuckled, sitting down on his spot on the bench. The Jarl kept and constant eye on Ulfric, who smiled unnormally much, and he finally saw what he had waited for the past ten years.
"You... You have met someone, haven't you?" his crisp voice asked, the blink in his eyes lit the main hall up.
"Uh, yes. I met Galmar yesterday, we had our usual drink."
"No, no! A girl. The one from Darkwater Crossing, right?" the Jarl coughed.
"Nothing can get past you, eh?" Ulfric laughed, but the room was quiet. Too quiet. "Father?"
The Jarl looked rather peacefully where he sat, his head tilted slightly to the side.
"Father!" Ulfric hurried to him, but soon realized he was talking to his dead body, trying to speak to him.
"I'm… So sorry," Ulfric's old friends and newly appointed steward, Jorleif, said.
"He died peacefully. I couldn't ask for anything else, but… This soon?" Ulfric did not even look up from the floor he so intensely studied. "Guards.. Move the body.. Please."
"Ulfric. You're Windhelm's new jarl, like your father said you would be after he died. We'll need to arrange a ceremony, and a burial for you father."
"Yeah. I.. I guess," Ulfric mumbled, making the whole 'becoming jarl'-thing not sound so exciting as it should be. "I want letter sent to Shor's Stone, to begin with."
The Palace of the Kings' own courier readied himself for the trip, and left as soon as Ulfric gave him the letter. "Deliver this to Milla."
"Hi, Sylgja!" Milla shouted when she noticed the hardworking girl by the smelter. "Happy birthday!"
The dark-haired girl wiped the sweat away from her forehead and threw the shovel on pile of coal, brushing the dust of her miner's shirt. Milla and Sylgja had been friends ever since Sylgja was born, when a four-year-old Milla were the one to look after her when she was left in their town by two unknown people.
"Can you believe it? Fifteen years old already. What's it like?"
"No change, really," Sylgja sighed heavily. "But you're eighteen. I still feel like a kid when I'm with you.. You're all grown up." Milla noticed the sound of her voice, sorry and devastated, yet cheerful and tired.
"Don't worry, you'll turn eighteen soon enough. So what are your plans for today?" Milla asked, sitting down on the pile of chopped wood next to the hot smelter.
"You remember when I told you I found my parents' location? I thought I'd go see them. They live in Darkwater Crossing, not very far from here."
"Yeah, I know where it is…" Milla mumbled, not sounding convinced. "Darkwater Crossing, you say? We stayed there on our way back from Whiterun."
"Really?" Sylgja responded, grabbing the shovel again, throwing another bunch of coal into the smelter.
"Excuse me, are you Milla?" a man asked, holding the letter from Windhelm in his hands. As Milla reached the porch of her house, ready to go in, she noticed right away that he was a courier, and not any normal courier, a rather important one.
"I am," Milla answered, grinning.
"I have something I'm supposed to deliver," the courier started. "From the Jarl of Windhelm." He handed her the letter, and left right away.
"What's that?" Eirik asked when Milla entered the house, trying to open the letter she received.
"A letter from the Jarl of Windhelm. I wonder what he wants.."
"Read it then, maybe it's important."
She coughed, readying herself to read.
'Dear Milla,' she started.
I am sorry, but I won't be able to visit Shor's Stone in the nearest future.
What I am able to do however, is inviting you to the Palace of the Kings.
My father died, and I am now in his position, just like he wished for me.
Sincerely yours,
Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak.'
Milla and Eirik were both quiet, looking at each other, their faces spoke for themselves.
"By the gods…" Eirik were the first to comment. "The Jarl died… Well, you better hurry to Windhelm, then."
"What do you mean?"
"I am going to Riften to work, you know that, and I am not leaving you here by yourself," Eirik laughed. "I.. don't like it, especially now that he's the Jarl, but I want you to go be with him until I get back. Just don't come home with a ring on your finger, I want to be there when that happens." Milla could hear the irony in his voice, but at the same time, she knew he meant it. He gave her a tight hug and handed her an empty satchel, sending her to pack her things.
"I have so many changes.. Jorleif! Find Galmar. I need to see him," Ulfric demanded, not even looking at the steward, and only a few minutes went by before the rugged warrior of a man, Galmar Stone-Fist, stood in the main hall.
"Galmar!" he chuckled. "You know I always told you what your position would be when I became Jarl? Well, it's yours. Still interested?"
"It would be my pleasure," Galmar stumbled over to the table and sat down on the bench as if he had lived in the Palace his whole life. "So, Ulfric. Jarl. What is your first change?"
"Isn't that obvious, Galmar? You hate them as much as I do. I would like to see the quarter the elves live in be named something. Any suggestions?"
"Why don't we call it what we've always called it? 'The Gray Quarter'."
And so it was called.
"And remove those elves who still hasn't resided there. If they don't cooperate, force them," Ulfric then yelled to the guard who were ready to get rid of as many damned elves as possible. "Get to work!"
"How does it feel? Being Jarl, I mean," Galmar wondered, pouring himself a mug of mead.
"Oh, Galmar. This is just the beginning, trust me."
"Are you ready?" Eirik asked, hands resting on his daughter's shoulders, looking into her eyes.
"Only if you are." She looked back into his eyes, seeing all the things she should not see. His childhood, growing up, meeting Inger.. Losing Inger. All the pain inside, she knew he was not ready, but at the same time, he was. "I don't want you to think I'm leaving you for him, because I am not."
"I know," Eirik assured, giving her a light push. "Don't worry. Now go!"
Sylgja came running. She was not going to let Milla go without hugging her goodbye. "I'm going to miss you so much, Mill."
"You too," Milla whispered, mostly breathing into Sylgja's ear. "Oh, and don't worry, I will send all the young men I can find in Windhelm here to steal your heart, you just wait and see."
Taking her leave made her think back at her past, as if she was leaving Shor's Stone for good, even though she was not. She could not do anything else but to shake the feeling off and turn around to wave the others goodbye.
It had even started to snow a little when she had passed the steamy waterholes, and approached the Imperial outpost.
"Not much further now.." she said to herself. Her Nord blood kept her warm from the now more intense snowy weather. The smell of freshly made food and recently made bonfires reached her nose, notifying her that she was close to Kynesgrove.
There! She could see the stables, the swift horses, the carriage ready to take someone somewhere. "Back again are we?" a familiar voice laughed when she stopped before the bridge to the snowy city. The stable-owner throwing hay into the horses' food-bins made Milla realize how hungry she was, but gave a smile as her answer before walking towards the gates, and fast.
"Oh, Milla? Back so soon?" Elda Early-Dawn was the first to notice her on her way back to Candlehearth Hall with food supplies and bottles of wine.
"Yes," Milla only grinned. "Need any help?"
With an obvious nod and an insecure smile on the corner of her mouth, Elda handed Milla the basket with vegetables and meat.
"What are you doing here anyway?"
"My dad sent me here," Milla responded, carrying the basket to the kitchens. "He's going to Riften to work."
"Well, I guess you need a room, then?" Elda laughed, grabbing a cloth to wash the counter and a broom to sweep the floors as soon as they got inside.
"Yeah, it wouldn't be so nice sleeping on the snowy ground outside, so I'll take one," the corner of Milla's mouth turned upward as she joked.
"As always, ten Septims that is." The clinging sound of coin hitting the counter was the only sound in the room, most of the tenants were already in bed, or out drinking.
"Is it always this quiet in here?" Milla wondered suddenly.
"Most of the Windhelm's citizens are highly sophisticated, at least the elders who are still alive, and most of them are staying here. The ones you see out on the streets now are probably working, drinking or doing nothing. The rest of the citizens live with their family in Valunstrad."
"Then I'll be one of those doing nothing. You remember last time I was here, and I spoke with Ulfric Stormcloak? I have to see him.."
"Good luck getting in there, he's Windhelm's most important man now," Elda said, shocked. It almost looked like she did not think Milla would even manage set her feet inside the Palace, but she was going to, no matter what.
It did not take her long to get out of the inn, and to stand in front of the big, golden doors of the enormous palace.
"I'm sorry," a guard placed himself in front of her to prevent her from entering. "I can not let you in. Orders by the Jarl."
"But that's exactly who I'm here to see, the Jarl. I even have a letter to prove his invitation."
"I am only following orders. Just walk away, and violence can be avoided."
Milla could not believe what she just heard. Would the guard really be violent towards her if she did not walk away? She would not have that. She could easily take down both the guards in front of the door, they were not the problem. She was going in, and no one was going to stop her. As she pushed on and placed her hand on the door, the guard grabbed her by her tiny waist immediately. "Let go of me!" she yelled.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"I said, let go of me!"
"This is your lucky day after all," he laughed falsely, and looked at the other guard, then at Milla. "You'll get to see the Jarl himself after all."
"Let me.. Go!" she yelled again, now inside approaching the throne, eyes staring at her as the guard carried her to Ulfric. He was not able to see her face, her blonde hair covering the most of it as she was staring at the guard, trying to loosen his grip.
Ulfric stood up, disturbed by the noise. "What is all this rabble about?"
The guard put Milla down, holding her by her wrist instead. She slowly faced Ulfric, eyes burning with the rage to a guard not even willing to listen to her, her eyebrow was raised high.
"Milla," he continued. "You here. Guard! Let go of her, now!"
"But Jarl, you told us to take care of trespassers. This one was trespassing," the guard stuttered, letting go of Milla's wrist, which she rubbed to avoid the pain.
"Did you give her a chance to explain?"
"No, but.."
"Get out of here.." said Ulfric eventually, waving the guard towards the door, before stepping down from his throne to welcome Milla with a soft kiss on her cheek, a warm hug and a whisper in her ear, "You're finally here.."
Arms still holding tight around Ulfric, Milla closed her eyes to remember that exact moment and smiled widely, yet discreetly. "I received your letter," she then said, still hugging, still just as tight.
"Good," Ulfric separated, looking deeply into her icy-blue eyes, which he could clearly see showed the warmth in her mind, and the kindness in her soul. "Please sit."
"So.. You're the jarl now. What's that like?"
"You don't sound very eager about it?" Ulfric had to comment, watching her as she grabbed a piece of bread and had a large chunk of it.
"Oh, I am. This is big. I just.. I didn't think it would happen so fast," she sighed, taking a break, looking at her hands playing with the bread. "Father went to Riften to work, so he sent me here. He didn't want me to stay in Shor's Stone without him, especially not after losing mother.. So he hoped you would be happy about me staying in Windhelm while he's away."
"I am. Don't worry, you're quite welcome here," Ulfric assured. Milla was not exactly convinced after looking at Galmar, who stood at his place next to the throne, arms crossed. "Let me show you around." Grabbing Milla's hand and helping her up, he interrupted the intense staring between her and his right hand-man.
"Galmar, entertain the others while I'm gone."
"As you will, Ulfric," Galmar mumbled aggressively, but that was nothing Ulfric was not used to. After all, they had been friends a long time.
"This is the war room, father planned all his attacks in past wars here. I will do all the planning here now, with Galmar by my side." He took a long break, as if talking about his father gave him a big lump in his throat. "And up these stairs and down the hallway is the Jarl's Quarter, the bedroom in which I will be sleeping now." Opening the door, he guided Milla up the first set of stairs. A cozy table and a single chair in front of the next set of stairs decorated the corner, and they continued up another set of stairs. They encountered another hallway with not a single window or door, the only thing decorating the walls were the torches to give the place some light. Upon walking up the third set of stairs and entering through the door at the top, Milla got the butterflies again, just by walking behind him. His harsh, yet firm and smooth walk was almost too much for her.
The next hallway led to the fourth set of stairs and another door, but this hallway had three doors on each side, probably where some of the more important guards, the steward and Galmar slept. Some of the doors were even open for Milla to peak in when passing them. The beds in the first rooms looked all slept in, but the last room's only bed seemed untouched.
"Here we are," Ulfric grinned, turning around to meet Milla's eyes again, holding his hand up to let Milla go first.
"Wow.. What a big room!" she exclaimed when entering the room. In the corner to her left, there was a small table with two chairs. There were dressers and wardrobes all the way to the next corner, and all the way around to Ulfric's desk and another wardrobe next to it. In the middle of the room was what Milla recognized as some sort of platform, with the enormous bed on it, and a banner with the head of a bear, the same banner as the horses wore in Darkwater Crossing when she first met Ulfric. "My room is only a corner compared to this. And a double bed? Wow.."
Ulfric had to chuckle while readying one of the chairs for Milla. "Here, sit down."
"I tell you, if I had a bed like that, I wouldn't have to fall out of it every time I had a bad dream," she cheerfully explained while sitting down in the most comfortable chair she had ever sat in.
"Do you have bad dreams often?" Ulfric poured some mead into two tankards on the counter in the other corner, looking at Milla as he asked.
"I used to have them all the time when I was younger, but not so much now. Just.. Sometimes."
"Yeah, speaking of ages, how old are you? I mean, if I'm not too rude to ask a lady a question like that. A lady in a very shiny, and very expensive armor."
Milla started looking around for a roll of paper, two of them sticking out of a basket behind her chair. "Here," she started, giving the first roll to Ulfric as he sat down on the chair opposite her, grabbing a quill afterwards. "Write you birth year on this piece of paper, and I'll do the same. We'll then switch notes when we're finished. I know this may sound like a childish game, but in some cases, it's easier."
"I think it sounds like a good idea."
They both started writing, Milla writing carefully and thoroughly as always. She had a pretty handwriting, curls and waves on most letters. Folding the piece of paper, Milla put her note in Ulfric's hand, and he put his note in hers.
"4E 152.." she read to herself.
"4E 162.. Hm. I remember when I was eighteen," Ulfric commented, staring at the number on the paper, then at Milla.
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. I was preparing myself for the Great War. And when I was seventeen, going on eighteen, I was studying with the Greybeards, up at High Hrothgar. I had finished the studies, actually, ready to go home."
Milla's eyes lit up when Ulfric mentioned the War, and the Greybeards. "Really? You fought in the Great War?" She grabbed her tankard, putting it to her mouth to pour in. "Is that why you don't like the elves that resides here in Windhelm? Because of the Thalmor? My dad told me some details about the war a couple of years ago."
Ulfric sighed heavily, still holding Milla's note in his hands. "Yes, that too, but mostly because of the one who interrogated me, tortured me and held me captured, the first emissary of the Thalmor, Elenwen. Those golden eyes, the yellow skin.."
Milla could easily see how this was hurting him to talk about, and grabbed his hand and told him to stop, before moving her hand to his cheek. "Is that how you gained this scar?"
"Yes.."
A smile appeared in the corner of Milla's mouth, as her thumb gently stroked Ulfric's cheek. "Don't talk about it if it brings back too many painful memories. Let's just.. Enjoy each other's company, okay?" She looked at him as he looked at her hand holding his, before she sat herself on the very edge of the chair to hug him. He put his hands around her waist to return the hug, holding her as tight as he possibly could. For a moment, they just sat there and looked into each other's eyes, before Ulfric mumbled, "Where are you staying? The inn?"
"Yes, I have rented a room there."
"Well, that was no good use of your money. You'll be staying here, of course," Ulfric chuckled, not even trying to let go of Milla's hand. Her soft, slender fingers were just curling into his.
"Oh.. I-"
"Now go get your things," Ulfric interrupted, standing up to walk towards the door, with Milla's hand in his. "I will have someone readying a room for you in the meantime."
Before she could even think about leaving, Ulfric held her close to his body, to share each other's warmth. His breath was hitting Milla's forehead as he placed a gentle kiss on it before letting go of her. "Don't be long," he whispered.
"I won't," Milla then took off, fast legs running down the stairs and down the hallway, back to the war room and the main hall, and eventually out through the golden doors.
Ulfric joined the others in the main hall not long after, walking right over to his steward, Jorleif. "The empty room closest to mine, I need it ready for Milla," he whispered into Jorleif's ear, making the young steward grin wider than he had done in a long time.
"Was that the girl you constantly talked about the other day?" Galmar wondered when Ulfric sat down on his throne after Jorleif went to the empty bedroom. Stroking the beard he barely had, he grinned and chuckled quietly.
"This is the woman of my life, Galmar. Things went all the wrong way with Rikke seven years ago, it was a mistake when I was hurt and wounded in the war, but I am not going to let that stop me from loving Milla. And when I accomplish all my plans and become High King of Skyrim, she's going to be the High Queen, my queen."
"High Queen? Are you sure?" Galmar asked, to Ulfric's sudden surprise. "I mean, she's not exactly from a noble house, and she's a warrior. She's meant to be out fighting."
"And she's a hell of a good one, Galmar. I am a warrior too, don't forget that." The way Galmar talked about Milla, it almost sounded as if he would rather have her gone. "If you don't like her being here, you can leave. That goes for the rest of you as well!" he frowned and shouted to everyone in the main hall, guards and servants.
What he had not noticed, was that Milla was standing just inside the door with her satchel in her hand and her bow on her back. "What's going on?" she asked, taking slow steps towards the throne.
"I was.. Telling Galmar about my plans. Come with me," Ulfric explained and reached for Milla's satchel to grab it. "Let me show you to your room."
"Thank you. Maybe you can tell me about these plans of yours sometime?"
"Yes, maybe."
They walked up the same hallway, with the same speed, but now Milla walked next to Ulfric and not behind him. That, however, did not stop her for looking at him in the corner of her eye. She was just about to take a turn and enter the empty room, but Ulfric grabbed her arm and guided her into to his room instead. "But.. This is your room," she said confused.
"You said you liked it, and I want you to stay here. With me," Ulfric responded, putting Milla's satchel in the wardrobe next to his desk, and hung her bow on the weapon rack. "If you want to, of course."
"I.." Milla started, looking into his blinking eyes, mind racing from all the bad to all the good in only seconds. "I won't say no to that."
A grin appeared on Ulfric's face by her response, not able to take his eyes away from her. She was perfect in any way. "Good. Are you hungry? Dinner is almost ready."
"Oh, I'm starving!"
Milla was placed on the edge on the table, closest to Ulfric so she was first he laid eyes on when gazing through the main hall. Many of the female guards looked at Milla, then at each other and whispered things between themselves. Ulfric supported his head with his hand, eyes watching Milla as she cut a new bite of the chicken breast and put it her mouth, grabbing a crust of bread and gulped the mead in her cup.
She made sure to grab a venison chop as soon as she had finished the chicken breast. Some of the guards went back to their rounds, or to their rooms to rest, and the chef came to clear the table of empty plates and used goblets. Ulfric had thought Milla would dig in after she had provided herself with a large venison chop like that, but all she did was stabbing it with her fork, before yawning and stretching her arms upwards.
"Tired, are we?" Ulfric gave a chuckle, but the slight joke was not returned. Milla gave him her usual sarcastic expression, actually frightening him a little. "I'm sorry, let me follow you to bed. I have to tend the throne a little longer."
He stepped down and approached her, reaching for her hand. She grabbed it and stood up, following him to the war room and to the Jarl's Quarters.
"Did you enjoy your first evening at the palace?" Ulfric then asked when he followed Milla to his room, allowing her to walk in front and being the first to enter the quarters.
Sitting down on the bed, about to take her steel cuffed boots off, she giggled, "It was fun." Suddenly, she changed her tone, and her attitude. "I.. Just missed my father for a second earlier. Hence the stabbing of the poor, defenseless venison chop."
"Yeah, I noticed. Oh, uh.. Do you want me to leave while you undress?" He covered his eyes with his hand, doing his best not to peak.
Milla had to chuckle. "What? Have you never seen a woman in her underwear before?"
"I have. I'm just not.. Used to it."
She gently put her armor in the dresser behind her and removed her bracers, placing them on the table. She wore an Amulet of Talos around her neck, symbolizing her belief in him. "Come on… Look at me."
At first he actually hesitated, but removed his hand from his eyes and slowly turned around. Everything about her was perfect; her hair, her narrow shoulders, her curves, her long and slender, yet muscular and strong legs. Her face. Her eyes, as blue as his own. The amulet resting on her chest. There she was, a half nude woman in front of the Jarl of Windhelm. He could not quite understand how she managed to just stand there, but she did. "You're... Beautiful."
Her face lit up like a torch when Ulfric finally managed to stutter a few words, but those kind of words makes every person smile. She then jumped onto the bed and got comfortable under the pelt. "What kind of pelt is this?" she exclaimed, rubbing the soft fur.
"Oh.. Yes, the pelt.." Ulfric was almost mesmerized, the way he just stood there and studied her. "I brought it back from the Reach. Cave bear."
She watched him suspiciously as he shook his head, trying to come to his senses again. "What just went on in that head of yours, eh?"
"Nothing.." He sat down on the bed next to Milla as he still watched her, seeing all the beauty in her through her eyes. He placed his hand on her chin, rested his lips on her forehead, forming a soft kiss. "Good night," he whispered into her ear, his beard tickling her cheek as he pulled away, approaching the door to let her sleep after he stroked her hair.
"Good night, my love," he whispered so no one but him could hear it, while he closed the door.
