Starting to bring this all together. Ohhhwooooo
A crown on her head and a staff in her hand, Ingrid felt her breath catch in her throat as she looked over the packed rows of the Temple. Even with all the preparation, nothing could have readied her for this. The choir, the deafening applause and cheer, Ulfric's hand squeezing hers. She looked to her husband, his face a washed in contentment in a way she'd never seen on him before. This was it, everything he wanted. And for her? It was… nothing that she'd ever asked for.
Still, as overwhelming as it hard to not be excited. The dress she wore, for one, was the heaviest thing she'd ever worn, the fabric rich and embroidered all over. It had taken twenty seamstresses to finish it for her, according to Thali. Even the heavy crown on her head, made of Dragon bone to match her husband's, acted as a reminder to her. Something during the coronation had become abundantly clear to her: sher wasn't just the Dragonborn now, and even though she thought she would more or less be Queen in name she knew now that she'd be anything but. Even if Ulfric expected her to sit around and look pretty until she gave him a child, shre couldn'd do that now. These were her people, too. She had a duty to them now.
"Freedom for Skyrim!" She suddenly heard from the backm even over the music and the applause. She tried to see who it was, but before she could, there was a scream, and suddenly people were rising from their seats in a panic. She gasped, standing and rising with Ulfric, who already had his arm in front of her to protect her.
Smoke. She could smell smoke. "Fire!" She gasped over the noise, her husband giving a nod. She looked to Farkas, who had already drawn his sword and was eyeing off… well, she had no idea who they were. They looked Breton, but she couldn't be sure in So much effort to make sure she looked perfect. Ingrid wondered if that was what Ulfric would expect of her now that she was High Queen, to sit around and look the part. Before she may have been content doing just that. After all, she'd never exactly chased the title, nor did she have any idea what she'd do with it. Something about sitting on this throne, though, gave her perspective. These people saw her as their Queen now, and they'd just sworn fealty to her and her husband, and she… felt she owed them for it. She was used to helping everyone, of course. Being Dragonborn had seen to that over time. But she never felt that it was her duty to help, more just something she chose to do.
All of this, though - the crown, the choir, the finery and splendor - meant that this was her responsibility now. At least that was how she felt. If Ulfric expected her to sit around and smile and nod until she delivered him a child, he was in for a surprise.
Her train of thought paused when she caught the scent of smoke. At first Ingrid thought it may be incense, but as she continued to inhale it she felt herself tense. It was fire. Something was on fire. There was a scream and she realised she wasn't the only one to notice as the applause turned to panic. "Down with Ulfric Stormcloak!" Someone cried from the back as more screams erupted. The guard began to shout orders and commands, and it was only moments until the familiar sound of metal on metal, sword on sword rang through the temple.
She stood, looking to Ulfric, who was already on his feet with an arm extended in front of her, calling to her housecarl. Farkas already had his sword drawn, kicking one of their assailants to the ground, sizing up the room. "Get her out of here," he called to Ulfric. "Freedom Fighters!"
Ulfric gave a nod, grabbing Ingrid by the arm, "come," he ordered, pulling her away from the thrones, the two of them running for the priest's quarters of the Temple. "There is a passage through the-" he was cut off by a figure standing in the doorway to their escape, armed with a sword, ready to lunge. Before Ingrid could even think to react, Ulfric pulled her to him, releasing a shout and throwing the attacker backwards and against a wall.
They ran through the priest's quarters and Ulfric opened a trap door, gesturing for her to climb down. "You go first," he said, looking around, every one of his senses on high alert. "If you see anyone, shout." Unwilling to argue and understanding the danger, Ingrid obliged, making her way down the steps and into the near darkness, Ulfric waiting a moment before following her, closing the trap door behind them.
"The halls of the dead," she observed, finally processing the situation enough to speak. Part of her was ashamed for her delayed response time. Usually she was ready to battle at the drop of a coin. Now, though, it had taken her minutes to come to, to grasp what was happening. Had she become too comfortable in courtly life? Was this to do with the fact she was carrying a child? "This is a lovely way to spend our own coronation."
He paused, taking a torch from the wall. "I'm glad you're finding the humor in this," he grumbled, moving to the embalming table. He took a knife, inspecting it before nodding to himself, deciding it was suitable. "If they managed to enter the Temple, Windhelm isn't safe yet." He gestured to one of the tunnels, leading into the crypts. "The crypts eventually open near the docks. We'll just need to find somewhere safe to stay until-"
"Agna's Mill," she interrupted. "Aeri's an old friend, helped me build my homestead," Ingrid explained as Ulfric began to lead her down into the crypt. "We'll be safe there."
"How do we know she isn't a Freedom Fighter?" He asked, swatting away some cobweb.
Ingrid didn't respond. She didn't know.
If Aeri was a Freedom Fighter, she was a hospitable one. She gave them beds in the Common House and sent one of her lumberjacks to carry word back to Farkas - and only Farkas. Ulfric was insistent on that. Usually Ingrid would dismiss his paranoia, but at the moment she couldn't help but feel it was somewhat warranted. This wasn't an enemy that wore a uniform the way the Imperials did. Anyone could be a Freedom Fighter.
Leifur, one of the woodcutters, ate with them. Initially he'd been a little awestruck by the company of Ulfric Stormcloak, but he'd settled, and was now doing his best to keep the mood somewhat light - a monumental task given that they were in their stained and torn coronation finery. Ingrid had taken a sword to hers, cutting off the train of the dress, quickly tiring of the weight and impracticality of it all. She dreaded to think what Thali would say.
"We had the Freedom Fighters come through here not long ago," he explained, "inviting people to their meetings. Neither of us were interested, we're not really fans of politics. Most smallfolk aren't, really, now that the war is over. I think we're all a bit tired."
Ingrid exhaled, stirring at the stew in her bowl. "There sure was a lot of people attacking at the Temple. Someone's joining."
Leifur gave a nod, wiping his mouth after taking a swig of his mead. "Oh, they are. I was visiting family in Dawnstar and there was a group of about four of them in the Inn, trying to gather recruits. Saying things about Ulfric- uh, King Stormcloak having a…" he trailed off, suddenly uncomfortable, aware Ulfric was watching him carefully. "...That there's another claim to the throne, a better suited ruler."
"Did they say who?" Ingrid asked. Leifur shook his head.
Ulfric finally cleared his throat. "I was aware they were recruiting," he said, leaning forward, "but not that they were going as far as to visit mills. I thank you for remaining loyal and giving us shelter."
Eventually, Leifur left the two alone, off to speak to Aegis about tomorrow's work. Ingrid sat herself down by the fire, hugging her knees, her thumbs vacantly running over some of the embroidery of her dress. "We shouldn't be surprised," she laughed to herself. "It can never be easy."
"No," he agreed. "When we return to Windhelm I will send you into hiding with your handmaiden and housecarl," he announced.
"You'll do no such thing!" She snapped. "I'm not going to flee. What kind of message does that send? I'll stay in Windhelm."
He tensed his jaw. "You are Queen, now," he reminded her. "You can manage now, but what about when you are heavy with child? How will you defend yourself? Things are different now."
"I'm still the Dragonborn," she insisted, her voice raising, the threat of a full blown argument imminent. "I won't leave. End of discussion."
There was a silence, and although she knew he was debating pushing it further, he decided against it. "And what of your handmaiden?" He asked. "She is at risk, too."
Ingrid thought it odd that she'd bring Thali up. But knowing Ulfric, it was a last ditch attempt at trying to sway her. "That's up to her. If she wishes to hide, I'll send her to the Companions. They'll keep her safe. She is, after all, engaged to one."
"Yes," Ulfric exhaled. "I suppose she is."
A party of twenty or so had come to collect them, Galmar and Farkas leading it. Ingrid knew trouble was awaiting her in Whiterun, but nothing prepared her for the sight of the Temple in ashes as they rode past. There was a long silence after that, Ulfric not saying a word, departing the group when they arrived and leaving Ingrid to her own devices.
"I can't believe what they did to the Temple," she said to Farkas as he walked her to her quarters. She wasn't to be out of his sight now - not that she entirely minded this. "They burned it to the ground. Did you get any of them?"
He gave a nod, walking with her up the palace steps. "Five or six. Have them held in the keep. Killed four of them in the battle," he explained. "But the ones we have are keeping quiet. Won't say a word."
Ingrid exhaled as she came to her room. "They're as good as dead. If they won't talk, Ulfric will have them executed. No question about that." She paused, realising Thali wasn't there to greet her. "How's Thali?"
"Few scrapes, a bit shocked, but otherwise fine." Farkas chuckled to himself, a little smile on his lips, "my brother has been practically glued to her since."
She looked around for a second before rushing to the door, surprising Farkas a little as she closed it, a wry smile on her face. "I think Thali is related to Ulfric."
The housecarl raised an eyebrow. "Like a cousin?" He asked. "Not unusual for Royalty to keep relatives at court."
"No," she shook her head, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Ulfric has a bastard."
"Really?" He asked, before giving a singular nod. "Doesn't seem like the type."
Ingrid nodded, seeming somewhat excited to tell someone. "It's true! He told me all about it. He fell in love with this Innkeeper's daughter and… well, a baby happened. And," she interjected, raising a finger as she explained her incredibly clever theory, "the Innkeeper's daughter? Her hair was red, like rust. Like Thali's."
Farkas nodded along, eventually crossing his arms. "You know, now that I think about it? It makes sense. I see them talking sometimes," he explained, "sometimes in the halls, sometimes by his war room or quarters, always in whispers. And she was pretty worried about him when you two had to split off."
"Exactly! He was worried about her, too," she agreed.
He smirked to himself, taking a seat on one of the lounges of her quarters. "Well, that certainly makes me feel a little bit better." He paused, eyeing her. "You should bathe. And put on something clean."
Ingrid frowned. "Since when do you worry about- oh," she laughed, shaking her head. "Not in my quarters, Farkas," she giggled. "You're playing with fire."
The Freedom Fighters were causing great stress to Ulfric. They were organised, unpredictable and angry, which were things Ulfric should have had a handle on. Unlike the Stormcloaks, though, they were small in numbers. Freedom Fighters worked in secret, attacking at random all over Skyrim. One week it was a trade caravan going to Whiterun, the next it was a field patrol of Stormcloak soldiers near Markarth.
Ulfric's response was to try and quash the entire movement before it could gain steam by banning their meetings and arresting anyone suspected of taking part. The only issue with that was that the movement has already gained enough steam for his persecution of the Freedom Fighters to be even more controversial. It seemed as though he upped things every week. Houses were raided, businesses seized. Eventually, he made a decree that Freedom Fighters would be referred to as Imperial Sympathisers. A clever name, Ingrid thought, if it worked. Imperials were still the antagonists in Skyrim - associating a rebellion with them would lose them support.
As for Ingrid's input… well, she'd had little. Despite promising her that he would include her in military matters, he continued to 'neglect' to tell her when the meetings were called. When it came to Ulfric, he seemed less interested in her opinions on war and more interested in surprising her with gifts. So, as she had before, Ingrid began to employ her feminine wiles. A particularly low cut blouse saw to it that the non-humans of Windhelm were allowed to retain their freedoms, even if the Freedom Fighters did have a high number of non-human recruits. Bringing him a warm cup of mead and a kiss as he spent another late night at his writing desk saw that the prisoners he did keep were permitted to bathe. Waiting for him in his bed for him to return from his work guaranteed that no more torture would be used to extract confessions.
What truly concerned Ingrid though was that the more time she gave to Ulfric, the more she forgot that she was almost always playing some kind of game of wits with him. In fact, it was more and more like they were husband and wife than anything else. She stopped resenting his company, and found his presence comforting. So when she returned to her quarters and saw Farkas asleep on her lounge, waiting for her to return, she almost felt guilty. Farkas knew he'd have to share her for the time being, but she worried she was getting too close to Ulfric on occasion, as though enjoying his company was in some way being unloyal to her lover.
Ulfric, though, had become less and less partial to keeping her locked away within the palace, finding tasks for her around the city. Most of them were diplomatic in nature, sure, but she hardly minded them. Anything that didn't involve running into some kind of dungeon or haunted keep to retrieve some kind of spoon that had been in someone's family for generations was a welcome task. Often, though, the locals were happy to see her around, and more than happy to compile all their complaints in the world on to her. A good way to placate the population of Windhelm, she decided.
This particular day, though, she was visiting the Tavern and hearing the gossip from the locals, mostly about the quest to squash the rebellion before it could become too serious. It was funny how their definition of serious was so different from Ulfric's. "Terrible stuff," Elda said, wiping down the top of her bench, "the war was bad, but your man must be angry about this one. Had a rebel travel through here yesterday, actually," she recalled. "Or, well, ex rebel now, I suppose. Not going to be holding any swords with his thumbs."
"What do you mean?" Ingrid asked.
"Broken, both of them," Elda sighed, "thumbscrews. Terrible inventions."
Ingrid fell silent, her shoulders tightening as she glanced to Farkas. "...They used thumbscrews?" She asked.
Elda gave a nod, speaking dismissively about the whole thing, as though it were nothing. "Oh yes, of course," she said with a shrug, "have to get information somehow, I suppose." Elda paused, taking note of the expression on Ingrid's face. "Your boys were good, though. Once he confessed they let him go with his life."
"That's not the point," Ingrid said under her breath, before giving a quick nod to Elda. "Thank you, Elda. I'll be back next week." With that, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the Hall, Farkas following her, slightly bewildered.
"Ingrid!" He called after her, trying to keep up without running.
"He promised me," she called back, on an obvious mission as she strode to the gates of the Palace grounds. "He promised me, Farkas. No more torture." She stormed past the guards, none of them willing to challenge her, not with that fire in her eyes as she slammed her palms against the palace doors to open them.
By now, people were actively moving out of her way, and while Farkas continued to follow her into the residential wing, he eventually stopped, knowing better than to challenge her. Ingrid was furious. She had gone as far as letting Ulfric bed her again for this promise and he'd broken it. If he thought she was going to let it slide, he was wrong. It would be a miracle if she didn't shout him out of a window.
She came up on his quarters, noticing there were no guards by his doors - unusual, although he often dismissed them when he needed privacy or a nap. Good, she thought. If he was asleep, this would be a great way for her to wake him up. She pushed the doors open and stepped inside to see her husband…
Ingrid froze, whatever words that were in her mouth evaporating into nothing but a gasp as the air in her lungs seemed to freeze solid. Her handmaiden was bent over the side of the bed, her face buried in the blankets as Ingrid's husband thrust into her from behind. The two were so wrapped up into their illicit lovemaking that they hadn't even noticed Ingrid enter, as evidenced by the way Ulfric spoke to Thali as he had his way with the girl, who was lost in her own moaning and crooning. "Inside me," she begged, her words muffled.
Ingrid watched in shock as her husband gave a deep, guttural growl and gripped her backside as his pace sped up. "I want to fuck you full of my seed," he panted, Thali's whimpers of approval emerging from the mattress, "fill you with my children…"
At this stage, Ingrid was horrified. Not only was an affair playing out in front of her, but Ulfric was going to climax any second and the rage building within her didn't want him to have that satisfaction. Not knowing what to say, Ingrid did the next best thing - she reached out and grabbed the nearest object in a display case. A vase. And once she had a hold of it, she smashed it against the ground.
She wasn't sure what to expect of him once Ulfric finally noticed her. What does a man do when he sees his wife standing by the doorway, her eyes wide and inexplicably misty at the sight of him bedding her handmaiden? Ingrid wasn't sure what to do herself. But there was at least a minute of complete silence without any movement, the only sound being the heavy breathing of Thali beneath him. It was when Thali raised her head in confusion and saw Ingrid that things began to progress. The handmaiden gave a scream of fright, pulling herself away from Ulfric in a scramble, quickly throwing herself beneath the covers to hide her modesty.
"Ingrid," Ulfric finally said, his voice careful, not a shout. Not an order. Thali had already began to cry, and while Ingrid wanted to, she refused. More silence spare for Thali's shaking sobs.
Eventually, Ingrid took a deep breath, her hands in fists. "My handmaiden?" She asked, her voice wavering, but not shouting at him. "Of all the people you could have…" she trailed off, catching eye contact with Thali. "How long?" She asked, quickly shaking her head. "Nevermind, I don't want to know."
Ulfric took a deep breath. "Ingrid, it is… it is complex."
"You're not wrong," she replied. She looked to Thali now, who was practically shivering, before shaking her head. Ingrid turned around and left his quarters without another word.
It felt wrong. She shouldn't have been shaken by this at all. Of course Ulfric would come to take a lover once day. ...One day, though. Not so soon. And not her handmaiden - not someone she thought was one of her closest friends. Part of her thought she was hypocritical to be upset at all. After all, had she not been doing this with Farkas the whole time?
She sat on her bed in her quarters, trying to process it. She had no right to be mad. Yet, here she was, fighting back tears. Maybe it was the betrayal from a friend. If he'd been with anyone else it wouldn't have hurt so much, but she'd trusted Thali so dearly. Maybe it was just the shock of actually seeing it. Finding out your husband has a lover is one thing, actually seeing it happen is another.
Or maybe it was the realisation that Ulfric had been trying to make her fall in love with him, and that seeing him with someone else made her realise that it had been working.