The next day Elisif felt miserable. She hadn't been able to sleep a wink the whole night. Her mind simply would not turn off. She kept repeating those four words over and over in her head, "I love you, Ellie."

Who could have guessed that Ulfric Stormcloak could love anyone other than himself? He was always so cold and distant, like a mountain personified. The only person he seemed to have any real relationship with was his housecarl, and how sad was that?

It was true that Ulfric was well liked, respected, even feared by the people of Skyrim. There was plenty of dedication and loyalty from his followers. But was there anyone who loved him as a person, and not some sort of second coming of Talos? It must be lonely.

She had wondered if his confession had been some sort of clever, manipulative trick. After a few moments of being stunned, she had gathered her wits and prodded him sharply on the shoulder. His unattractive whine was more than enough proof that he was not faking being asleep. He had never presented himself as anything less than perfect any time she had seen him, so it was impossible to think of him intentionally making that noise while awake.

When dawn broke, he had woken. Not slowly or groggily. Just all at once. Perfect as in everything else he did. The least Ulfric could have done was wake up miserable with a hangover.

"Good morning," he had said with a small smile.

"Morning," Elisif had responded.

He had stretched, cracking what sounded like every bone in his body. He then sat up, scratching his chest hair. He looked around her room-their room-examining it as if for the first time. "I like it better here than my old quarters in Castle Dour. It's not so dark and depressing."

Elisif hadn't responded. She was too tired to make a reply. Instead she had just pulled her furs up over her head. Ulfric ignored her actions and got up to get dressed. He filled a glass from a pitcher on her side table and left it beside her. "Be sure to drink some water. It'll help with the hangover." Then he had left, whistling some merry tune. What was he in such a good mood for?

She had begrudgingly obeyed his suggestion, simply because she had drank a lot the night before and because she didn't have the energy to be contrary. She had to admit it was nice of him to take that little consideration for her. No one since Torygg had been very thoughtful toward her needs.

Then she had curled up, cocooned in her furs, and managed to get a little sleep. It wasn't much longer before her maids came in, pulling her out of her bed and helping her get dressed.

"Jarl Elisif, I know this is terribly inappropriate, but I have to ask," Erdi said. "What was he like?"

"What was who like how?" Elisif asked, her brain still befuddled.

"You know." Erdi giggled. "Jarl Ulfric. What was he like in bed? Is he as good as they say?"

Elisif felt like a deer frozen in front of a sabre cat. Before she could respond, Una saved her. Sort of.

"Leave her alone, you fool." The older maid flicked Erdi's arm. "Can't you see that she's exhausted? Any idiot could tell why. Especially since it was her wedding night. You have no tact at all."

"I didn't ask if they did it a lot. I asked how good he was," Erdi pouted. "Was he romantic? Did he hold you in his arms and recite poetry? I hear that Jarl Ulfric is a lover of the songs. Did he sing? Oh gods, I bet he has the most amazing singing voice. Was he gentle or was he rough? I mean did he hold you in his arms as he covered you in kisses or did he plow you like a farmer clearing a stony field? I could imagine it either way."

"I think you're imagining a bit too much," Una snapped. "Can't you see that you're embarrassing Jarl Elisif? And yourself?"

Elisif felt as if her body was on fire. She glanced in the mirror and saw that her cheeks were completely red. She didn't know what was worse-Erdi's blunt questions or the images they were creating in her head. She was grateful when Una escorted Erdi out, apologizing as they left.

As she entered the dining area, she took a long look at Ulfric. Now that she wasn't focusing on hating him so much, she had to admit that he was handsome. Tall, broad shouldered, straight backed, full thick hair. Even his scars suited him. Most Nords adored scars since they were permanent reminders of old fights, but sometimes it did mar a man.

She hadn't been able to see his body the night before, so Elisif had to wonder what other scars he bore. He had been in the Legion and a prisoner of the Thalmor. Surely his body was riddled with them. The thought of tracing each one as she made her way down his body had Elisif blushing again. Gods, how was she supposed to get through this day? How was she supposed to get through the rest of her life?!

The following days were a whirlwind of activity. Ulfric's things had to be moved from Castle Dour to the Blue Palace and places had to be found for all of it. For someone who had arrived as part of a warring army, he seemed to have a lot of stuff.

Of course all of it wasn't his. There were his housecarl's things as well as his own servants' items and the possessions of his personal guard. Everyone was underfoot, tripping over each other. Galmar barked orders constantly, cursing enough to turn Elisif's ears red.

During it all, Elisif had to get used to married life again. Of a sorts anyway. She and Ulfric spent meals together and slept side by side, but for the most part they didn't interact. He would get up in the morning and bathe while she tried to not watch. Then after they ate, they would go their separate ways. At least until evening when Ulfric would climb into bed hours after she had retired. He was always quiet and didn't have any light source with him when he came in, but she would always wake from his presence.

Sometimes they would cross paths, and every time Ulfric made her feel welcome. If she happened to walk into a war council, he actually would invite her to join them instead of trying to shoo her away like General Tullius used to do. If she spoke her opinion about a particular topic, Ulfric would consider her words instead of trying to shush her like the Imperials had. He never tried to put her aside and treat her like the trophy wife they both knew she was. It was actually… nice.

And he would do little kindnesses, like the glass of water that first day. During meals, he would move items towards her before she realized she needed them like a loaf of bread or a pitcher of wine. Nothing romantic like a rose or chocolates, but the little considerations were so much better. It reminded her how much she missed that from Torygg. Someone who didn't treat her like a jarl or some lost widow, but as a woman.

One night she was reading a book of poems. She was reading one poem in particular and thought to herself, "I should show this to Ulfric." As she was marking it, she realized what she was doing. That something made her think of her atypical husband, and she wanted to show it to him because it would please him.

It made her feel wrong to start finding happiness with this loveless marriage. She felt like she was betraying Torygg, that she had forsaken his memory. But she had to also admit that she couldn't really remember his face any more. It had been almost eight years since he had died. She could remember the touch of his hand against hers, the brush of his lips against hers, or how his smile made her heart flutter with joy. But exact details of her dead husband's face? She couldn't really remember.

Would it really be so bad trying to move forward instead of staying in the past?

The next day Elisif decided she would make the first move. Ulfric was too much a gentleman, and he had promised to not try anything with her. So while they had some relative privacy while he was bathing, she climbed out of their bed and stripped naked.

Then before she could change her mind and hide under the covers, she practically skipped over to the tub. "Would you," she cleared her throat, trying to get rid of the lump of nervousness, "would you like for me to help you?"

As Ulfric looked up, startled by the sound of her voice, as Elisif climbed into the bath. She sat so she was facing him, which meant she had to straddle his lap. She could feel the length of his cock pressing against her leg, not in a sexual way, but from the buoyancy of the water. Well, at least not yet.

The heat of the bath was a blessing. It hid the heat her own body was generating. She was no virgin, but it had been so long-and Ulfric scared her almost as much as she was attracted to him. She leaned forward, placing the palms of her hands against his chest. The sharp intake of breath from Ulfric gave her confidence. She picked up the razor. "Maybe I could help you shave?"

If she hadn't been so focused on trying to seduce him, maybe Elisif would have noticed how Ulfric's hands were gripping the sides of the tub until his knuckles were white, or how he leaned away from her, or how small the pupils of his eyes were.

"What are you doing?" he choked.

"I'm not really certain," Elisif tittered. When was he going to at least try something? She leaned closer until her lips were less than an inch away from his face. "What do most newlyweds do when they're alone together?"

"Oh gods," Ulfric breathed. "Look, Elisif, you don't have to do this."

"It's okay," she smiled nervously as she traced her figure on his wet chest. She pressed herself harder down, grinding against his hips. Still no reaction. Maybe because he was an older man? She knew that they sometimes took longer to become aroused. "I want to." She looked down demurely. "And I don't mind if you call me 'Ellie'. I think it's a cute nickname."

Ulfric paled. "Where did you get that name?"

"You say it in your sleep." Elisif blushed harder. Her heart was thumping loudly. "Sometimes you say, 'I love you, Ellie.' I think it's really sweet."

Ulfric jumped up so fast, Elisif was flung backwards into the water. "I'm sorry, I have to go right now." He hurled himself out of the tub and grabbed up his clean clothes for the day with one hand with the other one blindly tried to tie a towel around his waist. Without a backward glance, he ran out of the room while trying to pull his pants on.

"What did I do wrong?"

Once Elisif dried off and got dressed, she went out to the breakfast area. Ulfric was nowhere to be seen. She felt confused and upset. Why had he reacted that way? Had she messed up by confessing to know about his feelings for her? Should she have gone slower? Why couldn't she know what the right thing to do?

Men had been interested in her for as long as she could remember. Her looks had bloomed at an early age, and by the time she was fourteen, she had the attention of every man in the court. When she was seventeen, every man was wearing an Amulet of Mara. When she turned eighteen, she was married to the High King of Skyrim and had been bequeathed the title "the Fair." And by the time she was nineteen she was a widow. Even that hadn't stopped the subtle stares and hopeful smiles from not a few thanes.

To say that she was attractive was not unreasonable. Her body wasn't stretched from childbirth; she had a small waist, moderate hips, full, firm breasts. All her teeth. So, what was Ulfric's problem?

She was so distracted by trying to figure out how she managed to scare a man out of her bed, or bath in this instance, she didn't see the Altmer messenger until she bumped into him.

"I'm sorry, miss," the man stammered. "I'm looking for Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak. I have a package for him."

"He's not available right now," Elisif said, mentally grumbling about the fact. "But I can speak for him. How can I help you?"

"I have First Emissary Elenwen's ransom request," he said. "I was hoping to give it to Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak so I can start making my way back to Alinor. This trip has just been the worst. Storm after storm after storm. As well as the rudest guards." He humphed angrily.

Elisif blinked in surprise at the elf's attitude. "Well, as I said, I can take it. I'll let him know immediately."

The elf smiled as he shook Elisif's hands as he pressed a small pouch into them. Elisif caught a glimpse of dozens of precious gems, worth more than most holds. "Thank you so much!" Then he was gone, scurrying away.

A huge grin covered Elisif's face. Of course! Elenwen was the problem. Ulfric couldn't possibly be happy while his torturer was around. Once the Justiciar was gone, things would change. It was like when she was still angry at him for starting the civil war. He had to have a chance to let go.

And she had to admit that she felt bad for Elenwen. The poor woman was so lonely. Elisif had visited her a couple of times since the first time, and each time Elenwen had looked thinner and paler. It couldn't be good for her.

Since Ulfric had disappeared completely, Elisif would take the opportunity to visit Elenwen and let her know the good news. Although she had originally visited Elenwen to vex Ulfric, she did like the elf. She was everything Elisif wanted to be-smart and powerful.

The entrance to the Pelagius Wing was clear, so Elisif let herself in before anyone noticed her. As she walked down the hallway, she paused when she heard voices. Was Elenwen talking to herself? Had she finally broken from the solitude?

But the tinkling laughter didn't hold any sound of madness. Elisif didn't think she had ever heard Elenwen sound so happy.

"I swear by the Nine, she then picked up my razor. I thought she had decided to slit my throat then and there." Elisif gasped when she recognized Ulfric's voice. "Instead it turned out she was trying to fuck me. It was so awkward!"

"Stop, please, stop," Elenwen screamed with laughter. "This is too hilarious."

"It's not funny!" Ulfric huffed. "I knew sooner or later there was a possibility I'd have to sleep with her, but I didn't think it would happen for a few years. Not until people started complaining about us needing children."

"It's because you're too irresistible." Elenwen tsked. "You're just going to have to scratch that itch."

"If I absolutely have to, I will," Ulfric sighed, "but I thought it wouldn't come up until you were gone." The sound of a bed frame shifting filled the pause. "I don't want to miss a second with you."

"You should have Fus'ed her out of the tub," Elenwen teased. "Cracked her head on the tile or something."

"I almost did when she asked me to call her 'Ellie'. I thought I was going to die from shock. Like 'Who told you!?'" Elenwen's gales of laughter filled Elisif's ears. "At least she thinks it's cute, unlike some people."

"I like it," Elenwen protested.

"Not from what I could tell."

"I just gave you shit because I knew it would hurt you."

"You're the worst pet ever."

"I'm so sorry, my master." Elisif was close enough she could peek around the corner. Elenwen and Ulfric were curled up on her bed, their bodies practically intertwined. Elenwen was nuzzling Ulfric's neck. "Please forgive me."

"You'll have to do better than that if you want my favor," Ulfric growled. Lust filled his eyes as he peeled Elenwen's dress off. Elisif had only seen that expression from him in her imagination. His mouth pressed against Elenwen's before working his way down her body. The elf moaned and writhed under him, clutching at his hair.

Elisif knew she should leave, but she couldn't move. The two lovers, completely unaware of their audience, continued to disrobe each other, touching and tasting every inch of their bodies. She couldn't look away as Ulfric thrust into Elenwen, and she cried out his name.

It wasn't until Ulfric murmured, "I love you, Ellie," that Elisif finally found the ability to move again.

She ran away from the scene, not certain-and not caring-if they noticed her. She felt like such a fool. Like such a gods' damned fool. She had thought he cared for her, but in reality it was Elenwen! Stupid, stupid, stupid.

As Elisif flew out of the Pelagius Wing, she ran around a corner into what felt like a wall of stone. She looked up through tear filled eyes to see Galmar holding her. "What's wrong?"

"Where were you?" she demanded.

"I had to piss. It happens to all of us." Galmar frowned. "Why are you crying? Did something happen to Ulfric?"

"No! Ulfric is fine. Fucking Ulfric Stormcloak is having the fucking time of his life." Elisif wailed. She buried her face against Galmar's chest.

"Give me a dragon or a horde of Imperial Legionnaires, and I'm fine. I have no idea what to do with a crying woman." Galmar sighed. He picked Elisif up in his arms like she was a pup. "Come on. I'm taking you to your room so you can have some privacy."

Elisif buried her face in Galmar's armor, holding onto the fur as if her life depended on it. She couldn't stop crying. She had no idea if anyone saw them as he carried her to her chambers, and she couldn't find it in her to care.

When Galmar tried to place her on her bed, Elisif refused to let go. He grumbled and sat down beside her. He tried to awkwardly pat her back. "Just let it out."

Even as she cried, she knew it was stupid. Why did she care who Ulfric Stormcloak slept with? She wasn't in love with him. She didn't even particularly like him. It was just she felt like an idiot. She had let her anger go just to find out she was a joke. He didn't care about her at all. She was just a convenience.

As she leaned against Galmar, she became aware of something prodding against her leg. She pulled back enough to see that Galmar had become aroused at some point. She looked at him doubtfully. Did crying women turn him on?

"Sorry," he grumbled as he rubbed his head. "Beautiful young women rubbing against me makes the old dragon wake up from hibernation. No disrespect meant, Lady Elisif."

"None taken," she whispered. She wiped her eyes dry, glad that she wasn't one of those slobbery women when she cried. "Take off your armor."

Galmar eyed her cautiously. "As housecarl, I'm sworn to obey my jarl and by extension his spouse. But if you're doing this to make Jarl Ulfric jealous, I feel I should let you know that he's given me permission to do this if you asked."

Red filled Elisif's vision. How dare he? How dare he?! That arrogant bastard just giving her away like she was some prized cow. Part of her wanted to throw Galmar out, but a greater portion of her needed him to stay. He was as old enough to be her grandfather and had the personality of a piece of wood, but at least he found her appealing and he was here. "Take off your armor."

"As you wish, lady." Galmar stripped and sat back on the bed. "What else may I do for you?"

Elisif bit her lip as she took in the sight of Galmar's cock. The man was gigantic. No wonder he called it a dragon. She reached out and touched it tentatively. It flexed under her fingers.

"I think he likes you," Galmar grinned.

"Good." Elisif tossed her clothes to the ground and climbed onto Galmar's lap.

"You might want to go slow. I don't want you to get hurt, and I don't think you're quite ready yet."

"I'm more than ready," Elisif insisted as she slid down his cock, slamming him into her flesh. She had to bite back a cry of pain as he filled her. He had been right in that she hadn't been wet enough, but she was tired of waiting. She was tired of wanting. She just needed to take for once.

She buried her face against the crook of his neck as she rode him. Her hips thrust furiously against him, the slap of their bodies the only sound other than her panting. Galmar wrapped his arms around her waist to give her support, but otherwise he did not try to get in her away.

Within minutes she shuddered as an orgasm ripped through her. It was so intense that it actually hurt, almost like a cramp. She felt boneless as she sagged against Galmar.

When he shifted to pick her up, she noticed that despite her violent orgasm, the older man had not come yet. He laid her on her back with a pillow tucked under her head. When Galmar pressed his lips to her nipple, she gasped in surprise. "What are you doing?"

"My lady, if you're that in need of sex, one frantic rutting would be an insult."

Sword-roughened fingers tweaked her nipples while his winter dry lips nuzzled her chest. He moved downwards until he found her swollen sex. Calloused fingers easily slid into her, aided by her own arousal. When his tongue flicked against her clit, soft and smooth compared to the rest of him, Elisif couldn't keep from crying out with pleasure.

He didn't rush no matter how much she begged. Instead he tasted her slowly with long, lavishing licks while his hands explored her body. When she thought she wouldn't be able to stand it any longer, he finally quickened his pace, sucking on her throbbing bud. She thrust her hips against his face as her heels drummed the bed. Wave after wave of orgasm crashed through her.

"I hope you don't mind if I finish now?" Galmar asked as he positioned himself above her. He waited until Elisif gave a weak nod of her head before sliding into her again. Mindful of her sensitive state, he only needed another couple of minutes before he withdrew and spilled his seed on her stomach.

Instead of collapsing on her, Galmar got up and found a towel. He tenderly cleaned her before wiping himself down. Then he gathered his armor and got dressed. "May I be excused, Lady Elisif? I must attend to Jarl Ulfric."

Elisif snorted. "I doubt he'll want you to interrupt him. He's probably not done screwing Elenwen yet."

"What?!"

She sat up so she could see Galmar's enraged face. "You didn't know?"

"How did you know?"

"I just found out," Elisif looked away ashamed. "I walked in on them together."

"How? No one can get into the Pelagius Wing."

"I have a key." She gestured to her clothes. "You can have it and check if you don't believe me."

After Galmar found the key and left, Elisif started to smile. Soon Ulfric's secret would be found out by his best, and probably only, friend. And in the meantime, there was the matter of Elenwen's ransom. It would be a shame if it were lost in the awful scuffle. Elisif reached down with her foot and kicked the pouch of precious gems under her bed.

"Oops."