CH 1: Kingslayer

4E 201

Ulfric Stormcloak stood before the throne of Solitude, where the young High King sat gripping the arms of the seat tightly as he regarded the famed " Bear of Markarth". He had heard countless stories of Ulfrics endeavors, and respected him for the role he had played in the last great war- yet, he had the sinking feeling that his respect was not reciprocated by the Jarl of Windhelm. He starred back at him with an icy, determined expression as his three retainers flanked him on either side.

"Jarl Ulfric," Torygg adressed the older man formally as he shifted in his seat. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence in my court?" He asked the question corgially, despite the tense atmosphere. Elisif stood beside her husbands throne supportively, watching with bated breath as her own sense of forboding gripped her, with fists clenched so tight that her polished nails bit into the skin of her palms, drawing blood.

Ulfric was a beast of a man- every bit the bear his name would suggest, with wide shoulders, a broad chest, and thick arms corded with muscle. He had discarded his thick fur mantle upon reaching the warmth of Haafingar hold, showing off his physique and doning a simple linen blue cape trimmed in gold to display the sigil of his house- a roaring blue bear head outlined in white, against a plain blue field. his armor was the same, simple studded black curass and chainmail worn by his men, with black woolen breeches and hide boots reinforced with steel that reached to his kneecaps.

his thick light brown hair was slicked back to the nape of his neck, bound by a leather thong, and his eyes were a piercing blue- like glacier ice. Within the frame of his thick, trimmed brown beard, his mouth was a hard line, making his facial expression indicernable from where he stood on the marbled floor, looking up at Torygg with a challange in his eyes.

"We do not come all this way to stand on ceremony before the throne for pleasure," The Jarls general, and personal housecarl- a fierce old bear by the name of Galmar StoneFist- spoke out from beside his leige with fire in his heart. "We have come to see you answer for your crimes against Skyrim!" His words were met by an uproar from the court.

"You dare accuse the High King of tyranny!?" The kings Thane cried out indignantly, insulted by the slander directed at his monarch. Ulfric put a hand on his general's shoulder, silently warning him to stay his words- they were not there to insight a riot.

"Torygg," Ulfric interrupted quickly in his deep bass voice, loud enough so that all could hear. " By signing the white gold concordat and enforcing the ban on the worshipping of Talos, like the empire you serve, you have alligned yourself with the Thalmor and put your desire for wealth and power above the needs and traditions of your own people- and in doing so, you have spit upon the graves of the men that have died, fighting on foreign soil, and branded yourself as an enemy to Skyrim and all of her children! " The jarl paused in his speech to allow his testimony to sink in, and as Torygg's eyes hardened at his words no one dared to even breath as they waited for the rest of what Ulfric had to say, leaving the courtroom silent as death.

"What say you in your defense?" He asked the king fairly as the younger man mulled over his words with a penceive expression.

"I will not defend my decision to sign the treaty- I did it with the best intentions, with nothing but the welfare of my people in mind." Torygg declared proudly, eyes never leaving Ulfric's as he spoke. "Skyrim needs the Empire, and its protection. We cannot stand against the Aldmeri Dominion without it." Beside the Jarl, the Stonefist bristled.

"The Empire would have us become their slaves, as they have become slaves to the Thalmor- I will not live as a slave, nor will i die as one!" Galmor spoke out again, hoping to enflame the hearts of any true warriors within the kings court that may feel the same. "That Godless Emperor can shove his damn treaty into the steaming neather reaches of my you-know-where!"

Torygg stood then as the court errupted into discord once more, his face stern as he looked down on the gathering of witnesses before him- such bold words could not be spoken against the Empire with impunity, but he had the overwhelming sense that the Jarl and his man did not plan to suffer the consequences of their treason.

"Jarl Ulfric- you have entered my hall seeking to sew discord within my court, with words of treason on your lips." He accused loudly, angered by the vulgarity displayed by the Jarls man. "What is it you had hope to accomplish by coming here with such brazen accusations?"

Ulfric stepped forward ahead of his retainers, looking from the jarl to the many enraptured faces around the room, then back again before he allowed himself to speak- he would need to speak eloquently to contest the kings own position and convince his court to listen and realize that his cause was true and his intentions honorable.

"I- Ulfric Stormcloak and Jarl of Hjaalmarch, do challange the High King, Torygg son of Istlod, in the sight of both Gods and men to a fight for the Crown of Skyrim, in the ancient way as the tradition of our people allows!"

Elisif let out a small gasp of terror, her small hands flying up to stifle the noise as she looked to her husband with wide, fearful eyes- she knew that as a true nord, her proud and honorable husband would not back down from this challange. Torygg's jaw set, and it took all he had to remain stoic in the face of his challanger as he concidered the odds- which were not in his favor- yet backing down from the challange was not an option, as it would only prove Ulfric's declaration that he was not fit to rule- So, it was with a heavy heart that he nodded, eyes closing as his beloved wife cried out in dispair and moved to grab his arm.

"No- you musnt! send for Tullius- have the gaurds take them away! lock them up for their treason!" She begged, eyes pleading with him to heed her words. He looked down at his fair wife with a hard expression, shaking his head.

"I cannot." He told her in a tone that said there would be no negotiating, once again taking her chin between his thumb and forfinger firmly to hold her honeyed gaze. "If i were to do as you say and back down from this challange, i would be king only in name, and bring shame unto the house of my father. I cannot keep tossing aside the traditions of my people...Therefor, I accept your challange, Jarl Ulfric." Torygg said, turning to meet Ulfric's gaze with hard eyes. The other man had been watching thier exchange with a penceive expression, no doubt pondering his words.

Ulfric Stormcloak only nodded in response, his stoic expression not betraying any thoughts he mighthave had in the moment as Torygg gestured to his steward- a stout redheaded nord in his prime named Falk Firebeard- bidding the man to fetch his armor. The brown eyed warrior nodded, his heart heavy as he turned to leave the room, giving Ulfric a scathing look before he dissapeared down the hall.

As the courtroom filled with the sound of hushed, urgent discussion, Torygg turned to his wife once more where she still clung desperately to his arm as her tears began to overflow. He wiped them away gently, and bent to press his mouth against her quivering lips, tasting the salt of her sorrow upon them.

"My love," He told her softly as he stroked her strawberry blonde curls. "Not a day goes by that i dont thank mara for bringing us together, and my only regret is that i must leave you so soon. I do not know what will happen should i fall, but i bid you to be strong- For me, and for our people."

Elisif nodded, letting out a small sobb before crushing herself against him and inhaling his scent deeply, comitting it to memory as she listened to his heart beat for what may be the last time.

"I love you." She told him, not caring who heard her display of affection.

"As I love you."

Falk returned to the room moments later with several servants, each carrying a piece of their kings armor in tow. Torygg stepped away from his wife finally, and allowed them to strap each piece of the unworn battle raiment into place carefully over his fine blue and gold embroidered robes, before tying his velvet red mantle to his shoulders to display his own house sigil- a sheild bearing a wolfs head, over a white cross on a field of red.

Falk handed Elisif her husbands ancestral blade, and she swallowed hard, closing her eyes to compose herself before allowing herself to kneel before Torygg and present to him his two handed broad sword of skyforged steel- the finest steel in all of skyrim. It was a mighty weapon, with a pommel carved from white ivory to resemble a snarling wolfs head.

Torygg took the sword from his wife, and she stepped to the side reluctantly to allow him to pass so that he and Ulfric could descend the staircases to the hall below, where they would duel upon the polished blue marble-The anticipation in the room was nearly palpable as the members of the court gathered along the bannisters and on the stairs, overlooking the arena as the two men prepared to face each other. Ulfrics men took a place by the grand doorway, preparing for a hasty retreat as their lord drew his sword from its sheith.

Taking a deep breath to clear his mind, the high king summoned all the bravery his pride could muster to raise his weapon and assume a defensive position- unsure of how to proceed. It was bad enough that he had no battle experience of his own to go on, but to make matters worse, he had no idea what Ulfrics own style entailed. At least he would die looking the part.

The two men began to circle each other slowly- the Bear and the Wolf- each waiting for the other to make the first move. "you want me to close my eyes?" Ulfric baited the younger man mirthlessly, sensing his opponents hesitation. "would that even things up a bit?"

Torygg did not dign to reply, knowing it was meant to goad him into making a hasty attack- keeping a clear mind was crucial. Instead, he kept his eyes trained on the Jarls eyes and feet, searching for any indication of what his opponent might do as his fathers castlan had taught his durring their endless drills in his youth- Ulfric however, decided to circle endlessly, until at last Torygg had to force himself to lunge forward and strike first to avoid appearing craven.

Clang- Ulfric brushed the kings attack away easily with a swipe of his sword. Grunting, Torygg swung again, stepping forward as he hefted the heavy blade with both arms until the steel met Ulfric's again with a metalic hiss. The older man pushed back suddenly with enough force to send Torygg stumbling backward. Advansing, Ulfric swung his own blade up in a wide arc, bringing it down heavily to clash against the young kings broadsword once more as he steadied himself and threw it up to block just in time.

Elisif felt dizzy as she watched the fight, and had to remind herself to breath as a cold chill raced up her spine and her stomache fluttered uneasily with each swipe, lunge and stab- Her husband was becoming discouraged as each attack was easily blocked and evaded by his more experienced opponent, and his movements were beginning to slow.

There was a collective gasp from the court as Ulfric countered suddenly, spinning away from Torygg's onslaught and striking low to slice a deep gash into the back of the kings lower hamstring. With a grunt, the younger man went to one knee- muscles unable to support him under the weight of his armor with the sustained injury. refusing to show weakness in the face of the enemy, and before his own court, he stifled the urge to cry out as hot blood stained his breeches and pooled on the marble below him- in that moment he longed to look for his wife and seek out the comfort of her gaze.

"Your losing a lot of blood my king- maybe you should sit down for a minute." Ulfric taunted again, shaking his head as Torygg struggled to push himself to his feet. "This is what happens when you seat a boy with no battle experience upon the throne of men! He cannot even protect himself- how did you ever expect him to protect you?"

Again, Torygg lunged forward, sweat beading on his brow as he heaved the blade again and again, each blow being met with steel on steel as Ulfric blocked, stepping side to side and evading each strike easily before countering- This time at least, Torygg was able to step back in time to evade the strike.

"you call yourself a warrior? come on! at least try to hurt me!"

angered by his words and fueled by a deep desire to silence the Jarl, Torygg swung his sword recklessly high as he spoke, the tip of his blade making contact with the thin skin of the nords high right cheekbone, carving a deep gash all the way to the bridge of his nose before the jarl could back away.

"You talk too much." He told the older man weakly as he tried to ignore the throbbing in his leg, reveling in the sight of Ulfrics blood as it oozed from the cut that would surely scar his otherwise unmarked face. They clashed again in a flurry of motion and steel on steel, swinging their swords mercilessly in a deadly dance of strength, speed and will- until Ulfric ducked low under the kings blade before using the opening to kick Torygg square in the chest, sending him stumbling backward as he sucked in a sharp breath.

"You call this a fight?" Ulfric taunted again, frustrated by his persistance. He shook his head as he sneered in disgust at the younger man. Unyeilding, the king attempted to right himself once more, only this time, Ulfric had had enough- he had made his point and demonstrated to the court that Torygg was the lesser man, and so, the bear of Markarth lifted his own blade and swung it against Torygg's with so much force that it shattered the sky forged steel asunder.

Torygg looked to his broken weapon with shock and dispair as the smell of his own blood filled his senses, knowing in that moment that all hope was lost and that he would surely enter sovngarde on that day.

For the finale, Ulfric reached within himself for the ancient power of his people, bestowed upon man by the wind Godess, kynoreth, that had been taught to him in his youth by the revered monks of High Hrothgar-releasing it in a thunderous lament that shook the palace's very foundation.

"FUS ROH DAH!" He shouted, his power hitting the king with such great force, it sent him sprawling backward to hit the stone wall behind them as the noise echoed through the chambers and halls of the castle and beyond.

"Torygg!" Elisif called out to her husband in terror as he lay crumpled against the wall. Ulfric approached then, like a predator closing in for the kill- but Torygg could not hear her calls over the roaring in his ears as he struggled to regain his breath where he lay broken on the floor against the stoney wall.

"Sovngarde awaits." Ulfric told the king as he held the blade in suspention over his chest.

"Aye," Torygg groaned as he looked up at his opponent with unsteady eyes. " Today, I join my father in Shor's hall, my honor unstained- Can you say the same?"

Stoic as ever, Ulfric lifted his gaze to where his enemies wife stood, clutching the bannister from the throne room above. Elisif's terror filled eyes held his for the span of several heart beats before at last he struck the fatal blow, plunging his blade down into Torygg's heart without ever looking away from her- her ears rang loudly as the room errupted into movement and shouts. vaguely, she was aware of someone shaking her, but the queen refused to be the first to look away as she gripped the bannisters with all her might to stay upright, until Ulfric yanked his blade back out of Torygg's chest, causing his body to jerk as blood shot from his mouth and pooled around his body.

"Murder!" someone shouted from the crowd.

"Gaurds! someone get Tullius!" Falk ordered the housecarls intently as the witnesses disperced, running from the violence as swords were drawn and the palace gaurd moved to advanse on Ulfric and his men.

"Close the city gates!"

"Protect the Queen!"

Elisif's head swam as her husbands housecarl put his arms around her waist, attempting to pull her away from the scene- and the last thing she remembered before the world faded to black around her was those eyes- blue as glacier ice, and as cold as a northern winter.

. . .

. . .

three weeks later

Idrissa tugged the black cloth mask that covered the lower half of her face down, tilting her head up to the sky as the first droplets of rain began to fall from the towering dark storm clouds above. They beaded up against the pale skin of her cheek bones before rolling down her face like tears- She wasn't surprised, it had smelled like rain most of the day.

two weeks had passed since her departure from Riften, and though her mind was wracked with guilt at leaving Brinjolf and the guild behind, she found she was releived to finally be on her way- the restlessness that had plagued her in recent months had at last begun to receed, and each night she settled easily into sleep colored by visions of new, beautiful horizons that seemed to call to her from afar.

with a heavy sigh, she pulled the black mask back up to obscure her features and focused her attention back on the pathway ahead as her black Destrier meandered onward. The path was overgrown and treacherous, as she had taken an unmarked road to avoid detection by Skyrim's ever alert boarder control, whilst hoping to avoid any questions about her identity along the way. Evidently, she wasn't the only one who hoped to pass by undetected- several other travelers moved cautiously along the path ahead of her, eyes warily scanning the underbrush as they moved along at a languid pace.

cautiously, Idrissa kept her distance toward the back of the group, guard up as she continuously assessed her traveling companions- Only her and the one other nord were mounted, the rest of the pilgrims having opted to travel on foot. like her, they were cloaked and masked, fervently hoping to avoid detection by the Imperial legionares that had taken to guarding the boarder passes since the death of the high king only a fortnight prior.

Without warning, the ears of Idrissa's Destrier began to twitch, and her nostrils flared as she caught the scent of danger. Immediatly, Idrissa pulled the reigns on her horse to keep her still and scanned the perimeter as the feeling of being watched overwhelmed her, making the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

Something was out there.

Ahead, the cloaked strangers simultaniously moved into a defensive formation as the sound of movement in the surrounding woodland reached their ears, holding fast and placing their backs against each other with blades at the ready. seconds passed like minutes until a bird like whistle signaled from within the woods to their left. To their right, another whistle replied quickly, and then all they could do was watch as red cloaked legionares bled out of the forest by the dozen, until they were surrounded on all sides by men in gleaming Imperial steel armor.

"Ulfric Stormcloak!" A confident voice called out as the disciplined line parted to make way for a man adorned head to toe in the finest gelded imperial armor Idrissa had ever seen- He sported his cultural red plumed helm proudly, complimenting his matching red linen mantle. Obviously a General, He was tall, with piercing grey eyes and olive toned skin that was just beginning to crease with age. His arms were corded with thick veins and lith muscles, making him appear fierce and formidable despite his years.

Idrissa's attention piqued at the name the general had called, and she squinted as she tried to single out the face that might belong to it nervously. Ulfric Stormcloak was a prominant name in Skyrims aristocracy, and his heroic exploits as a veteran of the great war were known by every girl and boy in the realm- his most recent exploit however had branded him a traitor, and earned his face a spot on every notice board across the province.

"General Tullius." One of the Travelers answered back, pulling back his hood to meet the mans gaze defiantly. He was equally as striking as the other man, with the nords signature coloring- eyes the color of glacier ice, with thick light brown hair tied back at the nape of his neck by a leather thong. His form was covered beneath his thick fur mantle, but she could see from the wide set of his shoulders that he was broader than the General by far.

"Its a pleasure to finally meet the famed "bear of Markarth", given the circumstances." Tullius said in a gloating tone, a smirk playing at his lips as he looked down from his white horse with condescension in his eyes.

"I wish i could say the same," The nord- Ulfric- said levelly as he sized the general up. "Ive heard a great many stories about your prowess on the field of battle...I was expecting someone...more." Ulfrics voice was a bass rumble, and he spoke calmly despite the tense atmosphere.

Tullius's eyes narrowed but his smirk didnt falter. Instead, he chuckled, looking from Ulfric to the rest of their ragtag procession of travelers positioned defensively between the legionares and their liege lord.

"What a shame it will be then for you, when the bards sing of your defeat at my hands." The general retorted hotly, yanking the reigns on his horse to turn it around.

"You mean the headsman, lest you plan on executing me yourself?" Ulfric asked, raising a brow. It wasnt the way of the imperials to execute someone in a fair fight- formally, orders must be given and a trial was usually conducted, and if someone was executed, it was usually by hanging or beheading at the hands of an official headsman- Ulfric would have liked his trial to be combat- he was confident he could take any warrior they put him up against.

Tullius was not amused. "Take them all into custody." He ordered his men sourly, pressing his heels hard into his mounts sides.

"Wait, you cant- Im not a rebel!" The other nord on horseback protested shrilly, causing his horse to rear frantically as the soldiers closed in around him and yanked him from his saddle.

"What do we do Ulfric?" One of the rebels asked his leige lord. All eyes met Ulfrics after the question was asked, and it was her gaze he held as he answered.

"Don't resist, i would not see any of you harmed." He told them, his face and voice not betraying the dread he felt underneath the surface of his facade. " Lay down your steel."

The tension in the atmosphere was palpable as each man knelt to the ground slowly, placing their swords at their feet. As soon as they stood once more, the imperial soldiers were on them, tying their hands behind their backs and pushing them forward as they heldfast on the restraints.

Idrissa didnt have enough time to even dismount before she was being pulled from her own saddle- none too gently either. They shoved her against her horse as they forced her hands back and bound her.

"What do we have here?" One of the soldiers asked, laughter in his voice as one of his comrades claimed the reigns of her mount. "Thats some fine armor- like steel forged from midnight."

"She isnt with us!" One of the rebels shouted on her behalf- only to be punched in the jaw and shoved forward on his way. Idrissa felt a wandering hand caress the flesh of her inner thigh through the exposed soft leather of her pants. She gasped, attempting to pull away from the man, but he only held her tighter before shoving her to the ground, bracing his knee on her back to pin her down.

Panic gripped Idrissa as her mobility was cut off and the realization that this was probably not going to end well for her settled in, yet she continued to struggle adamently against the weight of the warrior holding her down.

"Unhand me!" She demanded, her ears filled with the thundering of her own heart beat as her adrenalin spiked.

"Be still!" The soldier grunted, struggling to keep her restrained. Finally, after a few long moments, he opted to simply incompasitate her with a blow to her left temple, and all at once her vision went black.