Just FYI, this is also posted on my ArchiveOfOurOwn account too. Same name, same story. Enjoy. And don't forget to comment please.
The hours that had passed following his announcement had been long ones that existed almost entirely on discussions between he, Tullius, and Elisif alike, the three determining together where aid was to be sent, pay for the soldiers, compensation to the widowed, among so many other things that had to be addressed long before the Moot.
Until Skyrim was declared an independent nation or still part of the Empire based on whomever was elected High King at the Moot, Tullius intended to remain in Skyrim and Ulfric agreed that so long as the Imperial Governor was willing to aid the people in stabilizing, he was welcome to stay.
There was also the concern of the Council to be held in less than four months time when the Emperor came, and that concern was predominantly with Elisif who had not been informed of the matter until the Council was mentioned by either man. She would be the third Nord representative just as Balgruuf, Loriel, and Laronen had suggested, but her concern rested in the fact that it was all too soon, after all they had just put their own civil war to an end.
Now they wanted to start another.
Ulfric informed her that the very idea for the Council, a mass of thirty individual members of society through out the races, was to put pressure upon the Aldmeri Dominion's ruling party in hopes that the Thalmor might back off.
If they did not, only then there would be another war and this time, they would be a united front against their enemy, just as Tiber Septim himself had once done two long eras before.
The hours had concluded with peace and orders sent out in the hands of couriers to begin their work posthaste to settle the worries and chaos of the land, and with moments finally to himself, he looked out the window of Castle Dour and let himself admire the fine view of the Blue Palace in the distance.
He had never really allowed himself to just take in the beauty of the place, too busy with this or that when he was a boy, when he was a jarlson, when he was a soldier, when he was a Jarl, when he was a warlord, when he was a rebel leader to simply…
Enjoy the little things.
Not since he had been a young boy with a corroded Altmer engagement ring cut from the guts of a fish, knife in his small hand steadied by the grip of his father.
And he took a breath, relaxing the tension in hi shoulders.
He heard light footsteps behind him, not the one of armored soldiers who occasionally walked past, and he glanced back to see Jarl Elisif the Fair, a young woman no more than twenty-five, hardly half his age, approach him, wringing her hands nervously. Her blue eyes met his, more sky than sea, and he gave a small nod of acknowledgement before he turned his body to lend her proper attention.
If not for the Emperor so neatly handing the victory to the rebel leader, she would have been his rival at the Moot, but now...
Well, she had never really been much of a threat anyway.
"I have a concern, if I may, Jarl Ulfric," she said softly.
"What is it?" he invited, and he listened to her calmly as she brought up the Moot.
And a casual worry that many people also seemed to have upon his coming as High King.
She feared a political marriage.
The Jarl of Windhelm let out a breath and gently shook his head.
"Jarl Elisif, if there is any worry you must have about me, that is not one of them," he told the young woman, and surprise dawned through the concern. "I have already done enough to you and Torygg as it is."
"I… I see."
He studied her for a moment, the way her brow furrowed and the way her mouth pinched with worry.
"I took him away from you and there's nothing I can do or say that will make up for that," Ulfric said to the Jarl of Solitude. "I don't deserve forgiveness for that, so I won't ask for it. All I can do is hope that one day, you might find happiness anew in someone as good a man as him."
Her lips parted, surprised, and her eyes went glassy. A bittersweet smile.
And she nodded.
"Thank you."
He returned the thin smile before turning his gaze back out the window.
And found warmth in his chest as he saw three tall golden figures heading up the walk towards Castle Dour, with three smaller golden individuals scampering around them.
The smile became more genuine and he gave a small nod to Elisif before he stepped away from the window, eager to greet them but his pace painfully casual to not draw attention.
A soldier opened the door for him and he stepped out into the near blinding sunlight.
Two little Altmer girls chased after each other, their hair braided like little crowns upon their heads while a younger boy straggled behind, wanting to play as well as they scuttled about the courtyard of Castle Dour, Lermion with a fluffy haired toddler who was chewing on an amulet around his father's neck, talking animatedly with his brothers.
And then familiar amber eyes broke from their mirrors and settled on him.
And Loriel grinned in a way that was more dazzling than all the gold and jewels in the world.
"Hey," the Mer greeted him casually.
And the only thing Ulfric could think to say to the brothers was two words.
"Happy birthday."
