A Doom Driven Hero: Civil War Chapter 3 – A Time Out
Marcus strolled into Solitude just after nightfall in his robed armor with the hood pulled up. Serana walked beside him, her head covered in a similar fashion. They'd toyed with the idea of using Proudspire Manor to stage the operation, but figured that simply getting in and out of Solitude as quickly as possible would be best. There was a boat down near the shoreline that they'd taken across from Windstad Manor, and it'd be where they'd bring Tullius after they'd 'retrieved' him.
It was a nice way of putting it. A simple 'retrieval' operation, much like Marcus had often done fetching things from caves. He wished. Kidnapping was another way of putting it. Kidnapping, extortion, treason, and probably a bit of blackmail.
Yeah… Marcus thought with a wry smile. Lydia was right to be worried. I'm about to break a lot of laws.
If went badly, then he'd be exiled from Skyrim at the very least. More likely, they'd try to execute him. Gods knew that most political figures in the Empire hated his guts, if for simply being the only person alive able to wear the Amulet of Kings. If things went sideways this'd be the final push that pissed off the entire empire. He was taking a big risk, he knew. He glanced sideways at Serana. They both were, but he figured Serana wouldn't care as much. She'd lived too long to be bothered by something so minor as a disgruntled empire.
The worst case scenario had a romantic feel. The pair could abandon Skyrim to its petty war, and go live out their lives somewhere else. Maybe High Rock, or Hammerfell. Somewhere secluded, where no end-of-the-world plots could reach them.
Marcus rolled his eyes. He doubted he'd have such luck. Fate clung to him like his shadow.
They came up to the courtyard of Castle Dour. There were the two guards on either side of the main entrance, as well as another pair patrolling around the courtyard. Walking past, they headed for the stairway leading up to the walls. When the gazes of the guards weren't directly looking at them they each stepped into the shadows, hugging the wall. Marcus vanished instantly, having had experience ghosting through forests, dungeons and blizzards on countless quests. Serana, being a creature of the night, had no more difficulty than he did.
They crept up to the walls and swung around to head back toward Castle Dour. Hadvar had told Marcus that the guard that was supposed to watch this upper entrance would be 'relocated' to a different posting, and a replacement wouldn't be allocated. Serana had voiced her doubts, but he had faith. It seemed like the man had come through. Marcus probably would've said something to that effect had they not been maintaining complete silence for stealth's sake.
He went up to the small door at the end of the wall rampart that led to Castle Dour, and tried the handle. It was locked.
"Keep a watch out." Marcus whispered to Serana, and took out the lock-picks he'd packed for such an eventuality.
She whispered back. "Can't you just use a spell or something?"
He grinned. "Gotta keep my skills in shape, don't I?"
Serana sighed, and turned away to look for any unexpected visitors. He almost heard her eyes rolling sardonically.
A few metallic clicks later, the door swung open. Marcus peered inside slowly, ensuring nobody was around. He couldn't see anyone immediately, but down the hall there a shadow had been cast on a wall, indicating a man was standing there close to a light source.
He looked back at Serana and gestured inside with one hand, the other placed on his lips to tell her to be quiet. She nodded silently, and crept inside. Marcus followed directly after her, closing the door as he came through.
"How do you want to do this?" Serana whispered to him, pointing at the silhouette of the guard down the corridor.
Marcus knew it would be easier to just kill the guard, as it was simpler than knocking them out and guaranteed they wouldn't wake up later and raise the alarm. But Marcus wasn't here to add more bodies to the piles caused by the war, and he felt that a corpse trail might screw up his whole 'secret peace treaty' facade.
Marcus whispered back. "Non-lethal. I'll try to knock him out in one go."
He crept up towards the corner of the hallway, as far as the shadows would allow him to move while remaining concealed. He could see from the shape of the shadow that the guard was a male, and would be facing towards him as soon as he turned the corner. Marcus knew he'd have to employ a few tricks.
He breathed in, and peeked around the corner slightly. "Zul, Mey Gut..."
From the other end of the hallway, a voice spoke out. "Hey ugly!"
"Huh?" The guard turned around to see the source of the noise. Marcus leapt out from behind the corner, sprinted up behind the man, and socked him in the back of his head with the pommel of his dagger. The guard dropped like a sack of potatoes.
Serana walked up behind him. "That's a new shout. How does it work?"
"Honestly? I don't really know..."
She raised an eyebrow, and Marcus just shrugged apologetically. They continued onward, stopping only to drag the guard's body into the shadows and splash a bit of the mead they'd swiped earlier onto his clothes. If he tried to tell anyone he was attacked, they'd think he was just making excuses.
Serana whispered to Marcus as they crept from room to room. "I thought Hadvar said the guards were all relocated."
"Some were, not all of them. There's only so much pull that a Quaestor has."
"What if we get surrounded on the way out? This won't work if we have to fight our way out."
Marcus patted her on the shoulder reassuringly. "I have a few escape plans, don't worry."
"A getaway on a Dragon isn't any less conspicuous, Marcus."
"Oh, I didn't mean a Dragon. My backup plan is a bit more… unorthodox."
Serana raised an eyebrow with somewhat alarmed concern. "More unorthodox than being carried off by a Dragon? Heavens..."
"Relax, and cut the chatter. I think there's some more guards up ahead."
They continued onward, generally avoiding guards rather than taking them out. If anyone got a glimpse of the pair, or found a pile of unconscious bodies, the whole plan would fail. It took every inch of Marcus' talent and skill as a thief. Serana's grace, abilities and natural choice of black clothing made her seemingly melt into the shadows whenever she wanted. Yet another perk of being a vampire.
Eventually, they came to their destination. Tullius' chambers. Two guards stood at either side of the general's room, just as Hadvar had described. Marcus' throw voice shout wouldn't work as there was only one angle of approach, and double the risk of failure for any illusion magic. Marcus glanced at them, then shifted back around the corner they'd approached from.
"You ready?" he turned to Serana.
She shifted, and sported a frown. "Still don't like the idea of using seduction on anyone other than you..."
"Relax. It's just a magic thing. You're only luring them away for a minute or two. We'll meet up at the windmill, just as planned."
Serana still looked somewhat sad. "I haven't used this ability in a long time, you know..."
Marcus frowned, confused. "What, are you worried you'll be rusty on the execution?"
"No… it's just… nevermind."
She stood up, and walked around the corner. Marcus heard a faint grunt of surprise from the guards, before a soft chiming magical noise filled the air and there was a flash of soft aqua-coloured light.
Then Serana said something in a soft voice, and came back around the corner at a brisk walk. She glanced at the shadowy spot where Marcus knelt, then continued on. Moments later, the pair of guards stumbled around the corner, ambling after her with dopey expressions.
The magic wouldn't have needed to do much… Marcus thought with a smile, then walked around the corner. He quickly walked up to the door and pushed it open.
The room was well-lit and small. Smaller than Marcus had expected, anyway. There was a bed up the back, a chest, an armor stand, and a few wardrobes. The last piece of furniture was a desk at which Tullius himself sat, writing away at a note.
"Leave the food anywhere, Janice." The general muttered, not looking up. He'd obviously assumed Marcus was one of his servants.
The young man grinned. "Sorry sir, change of plans."
Tullius froze, his eyes widened. Then he slowly turned to see Marcus in the middle of his room. The general's features hardened.
"Are you here to kill me, Dragonborn?" Tullius asked in a low voice. "To finally throw your lot into this conflict?"
Marcus took a step closer. "Second question yes, first one no."
"You fool. All I have to do is shout, and you'll be swarmed by guards."
"Any guards within earshot are either unconscious, or beguiled by my lady friend. You're on your own."
Tullius frowned. "Lady friend? You mean that skinny, pale girl that's been following you around?"
Marcus' expression darkened at the none-to-kind description of Serana. "Be glad she's not here to hear your description. Yes, she's here, and she's ensured that nobody can stop me."
"Stop you from doing what?" Tullius stood up, reaching for a dagger across his desk.
"From ending an overblown tantrum." Marcus took two long strides forward in an instant and smacked Tullius in the side of his head with a clenched fist. The older man's eyes rolled upwards and he dropped right into Marcus' arms.
The younger man heaved the general up onto his shoulder, and procured a letter from a pouch. He gently placed it on the desk and then headed outside as fast as he could.
Now that he was alone, Marcus whispered a quiet prayer to Nocturnal and turned invisible, before moving as fast as he could while crouching. Speed was more important than maintaining silence at this point. He needed to get out of Castle Dour as quickly as he could.
It was plain sailing up until Marcus got to the bridge spanning the gap between the windmill and the castle. Halfway across, he heard the sound of the door behind him opening. A two-man patrol walked out, casually making their way towards him. This would be fine, if Marcus hadn't spotted another set of guards walking along the wall behind the marketplace towards the same windmill. As Marcus briefly considered how difficult it may be to sneak past one pair, his invisibility ran out. In the moonlight, there was no way he'd be able to get past both groups.
He cursed quietly, head darting forward and backward. The guards Hadvar had relocated must've resulted in overlapping patrol routes, and now Marcus was in a fix. He wouldn't be able to cast invisibility normally because the sound of magic was rather loud. Serana was nowhere to be seen. Probably at the top of the windmill waiting for him. Marcus hoped she'd have enough sense to head back to the boat when he didn't show up.
Moving as quickly as he could, Marcus went through the windmill and stepped up to the edge of Solitude's outer wall. The bay below sparkled with glimmers of reflected moonlight. It would've be nice to take a moment to appreciate the view, had the situation been different. He could hear the tapping of guard boots behind him, and the murmur of the guards approaching from his right.
"Sorry, General. This is going to hurt." Marcus whispered, pulling the unconscious man upright. Reaching into a pouch, Marcus procured a certain mask with two prominent tusks, and slipped it over the general's face. Then, unceremoniously, he threw the general over the edge of the wall before climbing up and jumping off himself.
It was strange, falling in the darkness. There was no real sensory input other than the rush of wind and the vague sense of an approaching inky mass. Marcus didn't want to hit the ocean unprotected, knowing he probably be crippled by the impact. Tullius had Konahrik, so he'd be fine. Marcus would have to use 'Become Ethereal', but needed to time it so the guards above on the walls above didn't hear him.
He ended up shouting out 'Feim' around a quarter of a second before he hit the water. So, cutting it fine. The water flowed through his ethereal form, which felt very strange. He surfaced just as the shout wore off, and glanced around. Serana had probably heard him, and hopefully would be able to piece together what happened. Now, he just needed to find the general before he drowned. Konahrik only worked once a day, after all.
"Idiot..."
Marcus glanced up and smiled. "Nice to see you too."
Serana walked over with her arms folded. "I saw the guards approaching along the walls. Was wondering what to do when I heard your shout. How'd you stop Tullius from dying when you hit the water?"
Marcus pulled out the enchanted wooden mask and tossed it to her. "With this thing. Figured I might as well get some use out of it."
"It has the ability to prevent death?"
"More like instantly heal otherwise mortal injuries, but yeah. Kinda glad Tullius was unconscious, because it would've been pretty painful."
"Why don't you wear it more often?"
Marcus shrugged, and turned around to launch the small boat he'd placed the still-conscious general in. "I figure having an actual armored helmet would help my survival more than a wooden mask. The enchantment only works once a day. Plus those masks are kinda stuffy."
Serana turned the mask over in her hands, then clambered into the boat. "Have you tried to disenchant it? See how it works?"
"Dragon priest masks are nigh-impossible to do that for. This one's special, in addition."
"Do you think it affect illnesses? Old age?"
"Why do you ask?"
Serana didn't answer. She played with her hair, twirling it around a finger.
Marcus raised an eyebrow, finally pushing the boat off the sand jumping after it. "Well, I doubt it. The small study I did do indicated it was purely fixated on injury. Besides, I'm sure you know what Dragon priests look like. I wouldn't want to garner longevity from their types of magic, even if I did want to live forever."
Serana flinched, barely perceptively. She turned away and stared at the water. Marcus didn't seem to notice, he was too busy trying to maneuver the oars without smacking Tullius in the head.
It only took a few hours to cross the bay to Windstad Manor. Marcus and Serana didn't talk much, apart from making a few comments on the weather or the view of Solitude from below. Marcus was busy thinking about the convincing he'd need to do with Tullius and Ulfric later, and Serana seemed similarly absorbed in her thoughts.
Lydia was standing guard at the front of the Manor. Her group must've gotten back from Windhelm, unless something had gone wrong. They had left earlier, but if Marcus still felt the creeping of anxiety up his chest. He would've liked to handle everything himself, but he wanted it to be relatively simultaneous. Was he wise to trust his housecarls with such a delicate thing?
They beached the boat and Marcus hauled Tullius out one-handed. They met Lydia at the front. She was smiling, which was a good sign.
"That's two for two." She said.
Marcus breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. No problems?"
"Had to use some invisibility potions, but apart from that it went well. How'd you learn about that back entrance to the Palace?"
He relaxed a little more. Good to know at least one kidnapping had gone off without a hitch. "I used it a couple times to steal stuff for the Guild."
Lydia rolled her eyes. "Of course. Well, bring the general in. We stuck Ulfric in your downstairs storeroom. Set up some tables and such."
"Good." Marcus nodded and continued past her, depositing Tullius in the same room Ulfric was. The older nord was awake when he went down there and glared suitable daggers at Marcus as he entered. No words, because he was gagged of course. The young man simply smiled.
"Be with you in a moment." Then stuck Tullius in the opposite chair and left the room again.
Marcus walked back into the entrance hall and stopped briefly to lean against the wall. His housecarls gathered, as if waiting for more orders or tasks.
He smiled. Ever faithful. Even though they'd already risked lives for him, they were ready to do it again.
"Take a break, everyone." He said. "Head on back to your… or my… houses if you want. I've got it handled from here."
"You sure?" Jordis asked.
"Yeah. Probably better if you head back, to be honest. It'd be better for everything to look like the 'status quo' in the event someone starts thinking about the strangeness of this new peace treaty, and having the famous Dragonborn's housecarls all missing could raise some eyebrows."
They all murmured their agreement, and set about getting ready. Marcus promised them he'd find a suitable way to repay them for the efforts, to which they all responded it wouldn't be necessary. Again, he wondered what he'd done to inspire such loyalty.
But thinking of an outside-the-box reward for his friends that wasn't a random piece of enchanted equipment would need to wait. Marcus had some tactful diplomacy to do.
Marcus entered the room seeing the two generals exactly in the same places, tied to chairs at opposite ends of a table. Not for the first time, he was struck at the ridiculousness of what he was trying to achieve and the means by which he was attempting to do it.
They each looked up as they saw him, and let loose a muffled grunt of anger that barely escaped their gags. Their eyes hardened.
Marcus tried his best amiable smile and walked behind the table, placing the books and notes on it, before leaning against the far wall so he could face the both of them at the same time. Ulfric tried a few times to wrench himself loose from his bonds, but to no avail. Tullius just stared at Marcus like he was trying to memorize the moment, to provide a better future testimony.
"Ok." Marcus said, almost breaking out in a chuckle due to the pressure he suddenly felt. "I bet you're both wondering why you're here. Uh… To put it simply, you're both idiots."
There was a muffled retort of anger from both of them. Their cheeks had grown red with anger.
Marcus continued. "You'll have to forgive me if I keep the gags on for a little while longer, but I fear I won't be able to get a word in if I remove them now and I've got a lot to say before you start properly exchanging insults and threats."
"The resurgence of the war, to put it bluntly, was orchestrated by the Thalmor. Two of the pieces of paper on that table prove that. One is a note written moments before death of one of your lietenants, Ulfric, and the other is a letter I retrieved from the Thalmor embassy a few days ago."
Marcus moved forward and showed the letters to each general one at a time, continuing to speak.
"I would've gone to light with these things as soon as I recovered them, but I knew it probably wouldn't matter. You two desire the death of each other so much that I doubt a few letters could sway you."
"I seek to end this war without further bloodshed, something that I believe is possible with a little compromise and a restructuring of Skyrim's political relationship with the Empire. We can discuss details later, but is essence this entails turning Skyrim into a relatively independent vassal to the Empire, rather than a 'conquered' province entirely subject to the rules that Cyrodiil would be."
There was muffled surprise and confusion from both men.
"The final thing I want to say is this," Marcus walked over and leaned over the table, staring down hard at the wood. The semi-smarmy attitude was gone. "Ending this war without bloodshed is my hope, but ending it – period – is my priority. There's no version of this where the war continues. If I can't get you to agree to this peacefully, I will literally bend your willpower and turn you into mindless husks set to do my bidding. Any other legate, general, or simple soldier who seeks to change that will be slain by my hand. That is my promise to both of you."
Their eyes went wide.
Marcus continued. "Now, I don't want to do that for several reasons, so I really hope that when I remove your gags, you'll be a token cooperative."
He walked over and did Ulfric first. He hoped the older nord wouldn't start using the Thu'um. He'd be able to counter it, but the damage to his house… that'd be regrettable.
As soon as the gag was off Ulfric took several deep breaths, then glared up at Marcus. "You're going to regret this. You're a traitor to your own kin."
"If I'm a tratior," Marcus mused. "Goodness knows what that makes you."
"And you, Tullius." Ulfric spat as Marcus removed the gag of the other man. "Are you still feeling compliant to tend to the whims of your Thalmor masters? Now that they continue to rape our land?"
Tullius retorted as soon as his gag was also removed. "You cannot speak, usurper. This entire thing rests on your shoulders."
"Ooh." Marcus jolted. "That reminds me. One second."
The young man unceremoniously ducked out of the room for a minute, leaving the two generals to swap insults. When he came back, it was with a small leather dossier. He walked up and placed it open on a certain page in front of Ulfric.
"See this?" Marcus said with an almost smug grin. "This is something I grabbed from the Thalmor embassy a long time ago. See how they use the word 'asset' multiple times?"
"It…" Ulfric's eyes were wide. "It can't be. This isn't real! You're a liar!"
"Look at the signature at the bottom of the page, dumbass. It's real. You've been playing right into the Thalmor's hands all this time."
"I…" For once Ulfric was at a loss for words. Tullius however, had just been given more verbal ammunition.
"See? See?!" The imperial shuffled closer to the table and tried to point at the nord with his head. "This war of yours has done nothing but hinder your kinsmen, and help our common enemy!"
Marcus crossed his arms. "Don't get too ahead of yourself, Tullius. You're hardly any better, and your assistance of the Thalmor isn't even subtle. You bend over backwards for them all the time."
"That's because of the tru-"
"The truce, yes I know. The stupid piece of paper that signed away your entire independence as an Empire. Everyone, even the man who signed it, knew it was a bad idea."
"What would you have done?"
Marcus stepped forward and glared down at Tullius. "I'd have kept fighting until death. Or at the very least, I'd be a bit more open to the idea of peace with your own people. Because the alternative is this… overblown tantrum that's claimed and ruined countless lives."
"It's not a tantrum..." Tullius grumbled.
Marcus walked away and faced away from them. "No. It's worse than that… You never see what I see, cooped up in your castles and palaces, attending your 'meetings' and political dinners. You didn't see the anguish on the face of a mother, wailing in the street because she knows her son is dead. You never saw the soldiers in Dragon's Bridge attempt to rape a young woodcutter's daughter. You never saw the father in Riften, wallowing in alcohol and depression after his daughter was lost. Even if you did… I doubt you'd care. I doubt you'd consider such thoughts anything but a distraction from enacting Imperial Justice."
Ulfric snorted in agreement, but Marcus had words for him too.
"And you, Ulfric," Marcus spat. "A hero fighting for his people, except he's caused more of their deaths than anyone in the last 200 years. If I'd known how much of a bloodthirsty simpleton you were, I'd have tossed you into Alduin's maw myself back in Helgen."
"How dare you, boy!" Ulfric shouted. "I've saved countless people from the yolk of -"
Marcus stepped forward and interrupted him. "The yolk of what? Peace? Skyrim was fine until you decided it'd be better off otherwise. Until you decided that the best way to remove the Thalmor was to start murdering your own kinsmen, starting with the High King."
Marcus squatted down to Ulfric's level. He glared the older man in the eyes, seeing naught but rage and indignation.
He sighed. "Did you even consider another possibility, Ulfric? Did you even think about bringing Torygg over to your side? Working side-by-side to create a solution for everyone?"
Ulfric didn't answer.
"Of course you didn't. Why would you? You're a soldier who's never done anything but fight and kill. A thick-headed brute whose only idea on how to fix the world is to tear it apart, and hope it builds itself up the right way next time."
Ulfric managed to get out a few words in an angry, slow tone. "I did what needed to be done."
"No, you didn't. I spoke to Torygg. I walked the plains of Sovngarde and spoke to his saddened soul. He shines with more honor than you ever will. Despite the nordic traditions by which you followed, it still makes you a murderer. It still makes you a monster who tore a loving husband away from a loving wife, and plunged Skyrim into chaos."
Ulfric went the same shade of red that Tullius had, and Marcus felt that he better start speaking diplomacy rather than insults, however satisfying they might be.
"Enough of this. We get nowhere. The proposition I have for you is this: You will both cease hostilities against each other, as soon as I let you go and you get back to your respective headquarters. You will contact the other Jarls and work together to make Skyrim an independent city-state, beholden to the Empire in times of war to support it, yet free to govern itself in terms of religious orientation. Ulfric, you will relinquish any claims to the throne of Skyrim, now and in the future. Tullius, you will not seek retribution for Ulfric's crimes. The immediate political concerns will be resolved via a voting system similar to the moot, until an actual moot is called and a new High King is elected."
"Of which I will secede from..." Ulfric growled.
"Yes." Marcus nodded.
"And what of the Thalmor?" Tullius barked. "You think they'll just sit back and let these changes occur?"
Marcus turned and smiled an almost dark grin at the Imperial. "As of a few days ago, the Thalmor have been running scared. You could count the number of active Thalmor threats in Skyrim right now with one hand.
Ulfric frowned. "What do you mean?"
"They're all dead, whether they know it yet or not. Their embassy is dust, and most of their ambassadors and justiciars around Skyrim are being burned by Dragons or assassinated."
There was silence for a second as two and two was put together. The unspoken statement hung in the air. Marcus had done this. Ulfric and Tullius looked down at their feet for a moment, having both got a glimpse of who they were truly dealing with here.
Ulfric looked up first. "The true sons and daughters of Skyrim won't settle for 'vassalage'. They… we… will want complete independence."
Marcus chuckled. "If you do that, you might as well just hand the Thalmor the keys to the province. Without the support of the Empire, there's nothing to keep the Thalmor from simply invading and conquering us."
"You think us so weak?" Ulfric's voice was a low growl.
"Not necessarily, but I know that the Thalmor are stronger. You can't emerge from a civil war and instantly be able to repel an army like the Aldmeri Dominion's."
"If you helped us, we might."
"I'm not waging a war on your behalf, no matter how much I personally hate the Thalmor. Besides, I'm only going to be around for another 60 odd years, and thus can't guarantee this nation's safety forever. You need something more permanent."
Tullius looked down at his feet. "The imperial strategists say another great war is likely within 50 years."
Marcus threw his arms up in the air. "Well, if that happens, then I'll have to fight against the Thalmor. But only then. I've nearly had it with this whole one-man-saviour bullshit."
The muffled sound of a thunderbolt rang out from outside the room. Marcus paused mid-rant, recalling the sky being relatively clear when he'd entered the Manor not too long ago. He figured he should go check on the source of the noise, and it may be good to let the two leader stew for a minute. He guessed he needed a break anyway, before he got anymore animated.
Marcus looked at the two men, phrasing his parting words carefully. "Think about it." Then he left the room, walking outside and releasing a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.
He heard a shout outside the front of the Manor, and moved towards it at a jog. He burst out the front door just in time to see Serana toss aside the last lifeless corpse of what appeared to be a Thalmor assault party.
3 of them had visceral burn marks, 4 had stab wounds to their chests, and another 2 had their throats… Marcus wanted to think they'd been cut. 9 in total. Marcus wondered why he hadn't heard more commotion.
Serana turned around, and made an apologetic open-palmed gesture. "Sorry… I didn't want to disturb you."
"I… You just killed an entire armed party on your own and you're worried about disturbing me?"
She shrugged. "You're doing delicate work. I knew I could handle it."
"Evidently." Marcus gazed around and blinked. "Damn… I forget just how capable you can be."
"They attacked my home. Not a wise move, on their part."
Marcus nodded slowly, walking through the bodies. His first thought was that this was a retaliation party for what he did at the Embassy, but the fact that he hadn't left any survivors discredited that. They'd probably realize it was him sooner or later, but for the moment they'd still be reeling. More likely was that this was a response party dedicated to watching the leaders of Skyrim's armies.
Odds are, Ulfric specifically. Marcus would've noticed if he was being tailed on leaving Solitude. He was glad they'd waited until now to act and hadn't attacked his housecarls. If any had died, then he would've had to take his retaliation one step further and raze the entire Summerset Isles.
"Think they'll send any more?" Serana asked.
"No. None have malachite armor, so this was probably just a scouting party used to spy on Ulfric. They waiting until most of the armed individuals – my housecarls – left the premises and then attacked. This was a one-off."
Marcus sighed and turned around. "In any event, I'll be done with this soon. One way or another."
"How goes it?"
"I don't know. I think I'm getting through to them, but it's going to be some tricky political maneuvering to pull off the reforms I'm talking about. There's no shortage of things that could go wrong."
"It's the most peaceful option." Serana gripped his hand and gave it a little squeeze. "And if they've got any sense, they'll realize that too."
"Hmmm..." He nodded slowly, deep in thought. He glanced at the bodies, and figured he'd clean them up later. They both walked inside and sat near the fireplace. Marcus knew he should probably head back into the room and continue talking to the generals, but he dreaded the potential conclusions they'd reach. The disagreements. He dreaded having to say those three words and bend the minds of the men to his will. To take the tentative first few steps down the road to domination.
"I've come a long way..." Marcus sighed, staring into the almost-dead embers. "I remember when I was just a scared young man eager to get out of Skyrim."
"And now you're once again risking everything to save it. What does that make? Three… four times?"
He shrugged. "Who's counting at this point?"
They both chuckled, then lapsed into silence for a few minutes to simply enjoy each other's company. It was warm in that room, but not hot. A nice, cosy feeling. Marcus wondered how many moments like this he'd missed while delving into some dusty dungeon, or moldy cave. Serana watched him with a smile, resting her chin on her hand.
"What were you like when you first came to Skyrim?" Serana asked suddenly.
Marcus raised an eyebrow at her, then looked back at the ocean. "Well… you probably wouldn't have been very impressed. I was thin and nervous. Probably a bit immature too. I could barely hold a sword and knew only two spells. I guess I was also kinda cowardly. I was mostly concerned with getting out of Skyrim. The civil war had been a lot more than I'd bargained for, and after dragons were added to the equation, I wanted nothing more than to high-tail it out of the province."
Serana raised her eyebrows. "You sound almost like a normal person."
"Hmmm. Yeah. Normal..." He'd practically forgotten what the word meant.
"What made you stay?"
"I… I was asked to fight a dragon. It was the first one I killed, at the watchtower west of Whiterun. After that, I found out I was Dragonborn and… the rest is history."
"What made you say yes to fighting that dragon?"
Marcus faltered a bit, not quite sure on an answer. He scratched his head. "I… I can't quite remember. It'd be coming up on three years ago, now. I think I was worried about the people in the city. I was worried Whiterun would end up like Helgen, so I figured my presence might help buy time for the cityfolk."
Serana's eyes widened. "Buy time? You thought you would die?"
"My only frame of reference at that point regarding Dragons had been Alduin. Helgen had been leveled in under an hour. So… yeah. I was pretty sure I'd die."
"And yet you still went..." Serana spoke softly, her smile softening. "I guessed right."
He frowned. "Right about what?"
"I would've loved you even before you became 'The Dragonborn'."
Marcus went a bright red, and smiled bashfully. "Oh, stop it. It doesn't befit a dragon to blush."
They quietened again, before the young man sighed and stood up. "I better go and make sure they haven't… I dunno, broken free of their bonds and started killing each other."
"Always the optimist." Serana smiled.
Marcus headed back towards the storeroom at a slow pace. At the door, he was surprised to hear quiet speaking tones on the other side. He pushed open the door. Neither man seemed particularly angry, although they both sported frowns.
Marcus blinked. "Well, this is a welcome surprise."
The two older men looked up. Tullius frowned, and spoke first. "Well, you haven't exactly given us much choice but to play nice."
"You haven't exactly given me much choice to do otherwise," Marcus replied evenly.
"What was the commotion outside?" Ulfric asked.
"Thalmor dregs. They're taken care of."
They both looked happy at that. Small blessings. If only they'd decided to fight the Thalmor initially, instead of each other.
Marcus continued, "Am I correct in thinking you're both somewhat agreeable to my plan?"
"No." Tullius said with a growing expression of frustration. "Because the Empire will never accept a pardon for Ulfric even if I wanted them to, which I do not. It isn't up to me."
Marcus crossed his arms. "You don't need to negotiate a pardon for Ulfric. You just need to work with Elisif to the bring about the vassalage. The Empire sees her as the High Queen of Skyrim, so her authority should be recognized."
Ulfric snorted. "And what then? Elisif will give me a pardon? You're dumber than I thought, Marcus."
"Don't make me smear you across the far wall, Ulfric." Marcus growled. "And I have a plan for winning her over. Maybe..."
"I took an oath!" Tullius shouted. "Ulfric is a murderer. You said it yourself! How could you accept anything other than justice?!"
Marcus hands clenched into fists. "Because I know that about half of Skyrim believes otherwise! If we can't put aside vendettas and hatred, then even more people will die!" He took several long strides and stood over the imperial general, staring into his eyes. "Which part of your oath is stronger? The part about protecting the people of the Empire, or following an outdated rulebook?"
Tullius looked ready to retort, but stopped himself. He thought hard for a moment, then took a deep breath and sighed. "What if the Empire doesn't want to change Skyrim's fealty status?"
"Tell them it's a propaganda campaign, or something. Freely giving the province more independence will erode support for the rebels, making the people more open to supporting the Empire in times of war, which I'd wager is all they really want."
"The Thalmor-"
Marcus interrupted him. "Is fighting so many fires right now, I sincerely doubt they're in any shape to attend political meetings. Seriously, let me worry about those gilded pricks. You just focus on your bits. The only potential violation of your treaty with the Thalmor will occur when Elisif rescinds the ban of Talos worship, which by that point will be negligible because Skyrim's an independent vassal."
Marcus took a breath and leaned against the door. His posture slumped. He looked tired. "I want what's best for Skyrim. I really do, which is why I want to resolve this with as little bloodshed as possible. But for that to happen, I need you to work with me."
Both generals were quiet for a minute, thinking of any other problems with the young man's plan. Their mouths kept opening and closing as objections were nearly voiced, before they realized a solution. Try as they might, they couldn't seem to come up with anything significant to counter Marcus' argument, assuming he followed through with his parts.
Ulfric and Tullius shared a look, each searching the eyes of the other for the same resolution. They were both old soldiers, and knew the price of war. Perhaps, Marcus' plan would work. There was a chance, and the cost of any alternative was high enough that at the very least… it was worth a shot.
They both looked over at the Dragonborn. They shared a single nod.
They spoke at the same time. "What's the first step?"
Author's Notes: Been house-hunting for the last few weeks. Between inspections, being sick, moving stuff, and dealing with the overseas trip I've got coming up I haven't had a whole lot of time to write. Don't know how much I'll be able to do while out-of-country, so next chapter might take a while too. Not sure if it'll be the last one. I might make it two more chapters, depending on how long it takes.
Thank you for reading.