"I did not think he was capable of such sentiments." Arielle confessed to her brunette companion while her hands worked meticulously to grind ice-wraith teeth down to a fine powder with her stone mortar and pestle. Lydia let out a heavy sigh as she slumped into the lone chair in front of the desk, still out of breath from her previous time spent in the training yard. "He's lost his mind, I'm sure of it." she said flatly.
"Perhaps the upcoming battle for Reachwind has him tense?" she offered while wondering if she'd lost her own mind in the process. The past four weeks had seen Arielle and the Jarl's relationship change in a way that was nothing short of startling. She was still far from fond of the man, but she could not deny his talents as a lover. Even worse, was that she eventually found herself actually looking forward to each day's end. And she hated that. Hated that he could affect her that way. She should not want, let alone even be able to stand his touch after the awful way he treated her. But her body didn't care about his previous transgressions. No, her body only cared about the pleasure he could, and did give her each night. And that revelation, was solely responsible for the newest wave of shame that blossomed inside her mind. Yes, she was sure, she had most definitely lost her mind.
"Tense and misplacing his senses, perhaps." said Lydia, only for Arielle to scoff.
"Oh, come now." she said, her hands stilling around her equipment so she might meet the other woman's eyes. "However strange it was hearing those words from Galmar's lips, it does not retract from the truth of them." she said before turning her attention back to the mortar to find the ice wraith teeth perfectly ground. How long had she been done and not noticed? Ignoring that train of thought, she added the powdered teeth to the beaker that was suspended over a small flame. After that, she added the smallest of pinches of powdered iron before stirring the concoction with a glass rod while she considered her housecarl's situation. The Stormcloak's success in taking the capitol of Hjaalmarch was a swift one. So, perhaps, Galmar was still riding that particular high when he invited a certain beautiful brunette woman to his personal chambers for a drink.
Lydia sighed. "It was an accident. It shouldn't have happened in the first place." she grumbled in reference to her single night of passion with the Jarl's own housecarl. Arielle removed the now bubbling beaker from the open flame, before placing it on a bed of frost salts for rapid cooling. "Well, it seems like he is more than hopeful for another accident." she said, turning her attention to one of the desk's drawers. It was a deep drawer, full of empty potion bottles that were kept stocked for her, which she was far from complaining about. She selected a large, dark purple one and removed the cork before placing it on her work table.
"He will stay hopeful then." said Lydia and the corner of her mouth turned up in a small smile while her small hands fitted a funnel over the bottle's opening. She reached for the beaker, swirling the liquid inside a few times before pressing her free hand against the glass to test the temperature. Satisfied with the now lukewarm liquid, she poured the entire contents of the beaker into the new bottle and quickly exchanged the funnel for the thick cork, sealing the potion inside.
A sharp knock on the library's door earned her attention and she turned in time for Jorleif to appear in the now open door. "My lady, Inga has arrived and waits in the throne room." he said and after thanking him, she quickly added the purple bottle to the already overflowing basket of potions. "Perfect timing." she said to herself as she grabbed the basket's handle and started toward the door. The green velvet of her dress's skirt grazed the rugs beneath her feet as she made her way out of the library with Lydia in tow. A few short moments later and the pair entered the throne room where Inga was waiting, as promised. The blonde-haired Nord was sitting on one of the offered benches, her hair wound into a tight bun at the back of her head, until noticing Arielle's arrival. Once she did, she stood immediately before greeting her with a slight bow.
"I can't thank you enough my lady." she said as Arielle passed the basket to the woman's hands. She was fairly young, only a few or so years older than Arielle's own twenty two winters and freshly graduated from the college of Winterhold. The tip of one of her index fingers landed on the large purple bottle, the most recent addition among the twenty or so potions she'd concocted to help the woman treating the injured soldiers and citizens. "This one goes on the wound directly. A slight bit of nightshade and ice wraith teeth is used for local numbing." she explained. "It is especially helpful for removing arrows and will help with the more severe sword wounds."
"Worked well enough when Alduin clawed you up." Lydia spoke up from beside her.
"That too." Arielle agreed. "I believe it was this potion alone that kept me on my feet after that particular battle." she said only for the woman's hazel eyes to widen. "It was one of my mother's own recipes. She used it quite frequently on the more injured soldiers stationed near Helgen. Until the Imperial's took control of the hold anyway." she waved a hand dismissively, as if the memory of her late mother could be physically forced from her mind by the movement. "I've included instructions for everything at the bottom."
"I can't thank you enough. Your help alone will heal so many more than I could have managed alone. Thank you my lady." A small smile came to her face at the woman's words. It felt good to finally be doing something of substance. Even if she wasn't healing with her own hands, it was still rewarding to lend a hand to the cause. "I'll have a new basket ready next Fredas-"
"There she is, my lovely wife." came the deep, unmistakable voice of the Jarl. She turned to face the man approaching her. And for all their time spent together, he still reminded her of a bear when he approached her. Unreasonably tall and broad, taking up the majority of her field of vision with steel and wool when he came to a stop in front of her. Hushed whispers behind her caught her attention and she looked behind herself to see Jorleif already ushering the healer out of the palace, causing her mouth to turn down in a frown. She met the Jarl's icy eyes with her own deep blue ones.
"I'd like to formally introduce you to one of my officers. This is Tobias." he said in reference to the auburn-haired man beside him, looking all-too unthreatening next to her mountain of a husband. A deep crease formed in her brow as she considered the newcomer in front of her. His, scruffy auburn jaw and striking green eyes looked, oddly familiar but she could not recall hearing his name before. "Have we met?" she asked the man that was now kneeling in front of her for some unknowable reason.
"We have." he said, looking at her with awe in his eyes. Which was, not a way she liked to be looked at. She received that look many times after the Greybeards called for her. It was the kind of look that reminded her of what she was, the Dragonborn. And what she no longer was, the happy girl with big dreams. "You rescued me from the Thalmor." he told her and it suddenly dawned on her as the memory resurfaced. It was early in Arielle's journey when she and and Lydia had quite accidentally stumbled upon a couple of Thalmor agents transporting a man in ropes.
She remembered the way her anger boiled watching the scene before her. How the man was stripped down to rags with thin wrappings on his bare feet that had done nothing to stop them from bleeding from exposure and walking on them for who knows how long. Half-starved, bleeding, the look of death in his eyes.. just the memory of it caused a flicker of anger in the pit of her soul. "You gave me your backpack." he said, his admiration bleeding into his tone. "Your food, potions, everything." he shook his head as if in disbelief. "You and Ulfric will be the leaders Skyrim needs and my sword will always be yours, should you need it."
His words hit her in the worst of ways. A sudden wave of nausea overcame her and she immediately excused herself for it. It was similar to the way she felt only hours ago when she'd been unfortunate enough to witness a rather headless chicken running out of the kitchens and into the dining room still full of diners, blood sputtering from the veins in it's neck right after she'd finished her breakfast. She'd seen more than her fare share of gore in her time traipsing across Skyrim to save it. Even during her stay in Windhelm, when she happened upon the gods awful sight of the 'Butcher's' committed atrocities. But for some reason, the unnatural sight of something moving around without it's head made her suddenly ill. Her breakfast didn't stay down for very long and she feared the very meager lunch she'd picked at was about to suffer the same fate. The sound of steel boots followed closely behind her til she reached the hallway.
"Arielle." Ulfric called when she had yet to slow her pace. She stopped, but made no move to face him. He approached regardless, the sound of his boots moving ever closer in the rug covered, stone floor of the hallway til he came into her field of vision as he stood in front of her. They were just beside the war room, she realized when her eyes strayed to the lone door to her left. She met his eyes then, saw his expectant expression as he waited for her to explain herself. Her face was set in a deep frown for a long moment. It would do no good to talk to him. "It's nothing." she quickly said. "I only need a bit of air."
She made to step around him, only for one of his hands to clasp firmly around one of her thin wrists. He took the few steps to the war room, lightly pulling her along as he did and a few seconds later, the door was closed and they were alone in the candle-lit room. "I have never lied to you Arielle." he said, his deep voice even lower than usual and she knew his words were meant as a warning.
A deep breath invaded her lungs before she spoke. "I don't want to be a queen," she said with a shake of her head. "consort or otherwise."
"It's a bit late for that." he said, with little emotion in his voice.
"You don't understand.." she said, wrenching her eyes closed at the painful memory of her encounter with the Thalmor agents. The sight of what she'd done to them when she was still new to her powers and unable to separate them from her anger. So much blood.. more than she'd ever seen in her life and she could remember heaving the contents of her stomach long after her anger had subsided. "I already have more than my fair share of power." she said without meeting his eyes. Instead, her sight landed on a stray quill that was laying on the stone floor some five or so paces away and she clasped her hands tightly together in front of herself. "I'm not like you, Ulfric. My body is flesh, it's true, but I am a dragon. You put me on a throne and then what? ..What if it's not enough?" What if she became Alduin? Everything she worked for, everything she sacrificed and lost would have been for nothing.
He took the few steps between them before a firm press of the tip of his finger forced her head up to meet his eyes. "You have far too much compassion to become corrupted by your own power." Eyes that reminded her of glaciers in the Sea of Ghosts studied her face for a moment. "You healed the Butcher. You could have easily killed him for his crimes. Instead you brought him here, to face proper justice." he said casually, as if they were discussing the weather and not the very real threat Arielle could become if left unchecked. How could he not see the danger?
Her eyes watched him as he started toward his desk. "Has Tobias told you what I did to those Thalmor agents?" she asked and he hummed in the affirmative as he pulled one of the drawers open, retrieving a small silk pouch. "Nothing short of what they deserved and you liberated him in the process." he said cooly, all too unbothered by the fact that she not only killed, but slaughtered them. She sighed, leaning a hip against the war table and crossed her arms. It was utterly pointless to talk to him. He either didn't understand, or didn't care. Probably the latter.
"I was seventeen when I joined the war.." he said, suddenly earning her full attention and she watched him sit in the lone chair behind his desk before curling an index finger toward himself in a 'come hither' motion. She relented out of curiosity, crossing the small space between them til she stood beside him, her deep frown still firmly in place as she waited for him to speak. "I was fresh out of my training with the Greybeards and.. arrogant with my newly gained power. I used it greedily in the fight against the Dominion." he paused, his expression taking on something akin to regret before he continued. "I paid full price for that arrogance." he said assuredly before letting out an exasperated snort. She shot him a look of confusion but he ignored it in favor of pulling her closer by her wrist and she leaned a hip against the edge of his desk while she watched him bring the back of her hand to his lips. "Our stories are not the same. You may be young, but you are.. overzealous in your self-control." he said, dropping her hand to open the silk pouch resting on his desk.
Polished silver caught her attention and her eyes focused on the bracelet the Jarl began fitting to her left wrist. It was a near solid cuff of silver, designed to look like rope with the head of a dragon and bear facing each other at the small opening, teeth bared toward one another, conjuring a mental picture of herself and the Jarl during their many arguments. There were no sapphires, no diamonds to be found on the thin bracelet. In fact, it looked rather plain. Yet, somehow she considered it the nicest thing he'd given her. "What do you think of it?" he asked while she toyed with her newest gift, examining the animals' heads closely.
"I think if I were to fall into the river Yorgrim, I would go straight to the bottom from the weight of my jewelry alone." she said, meeting his eyes in time for the corner of his mouth to turn up in an almost smile.
"Amusing." he said before his eyes trailed over her hair and face before finally taking notice of what she was wearing. "You look beautiful, as always." he said, reaching up to grab the end of one of her blonde braids. The end was secured with a silver cuff, similar to the ones scattered throughout his own braided hair and he considered her while he rubbed it between his thumb and index finger. A little too much fire salts and one of her potions had quite literally exploded a little while after breakfast, so a change of clothes became necessary. Rona happened to be in her room, finishing the hem on her newest dress so she allowed the woman to add a few braids to her hair. The woman was all too eager to decorate her hair for the upcoming feast that would celebrate the end of the festival. "And festive." he finished in reference to her deep green dress.
While she had not intended to wear the new dress yet, it certainly did go well with the theme of New Life as today was the very last day of Morning Star. "It was unintentional." she said when he dropped her braid and she stepped away from him only to approach the table behind him where the newest pile of mail had arrived for the Jarl. She gathered the pile and made her way to the war table where she let the letters drop to the table's map covered surface. Since they were already in the war room, she may as well lend a hand. Though she still found the task of sorting the Jarl's mail into piles she considered important and not, quite degrading, she still did it to appease him. Over the month and a half she'd spent in Windhelm, she'd quickly learned which battles to fight and if he insisted that he valued her opinion on which letters were the most pressing, she would let him live his lie.
A quick glance spared in the Jarl's direction told her that he'd already adopted the task of responding to the sorted letters piled on his desk, the ink-dampened quill in his hand scratched rapidly against a fresh piece of parchment as he wrote his reply. She settled into the chair closest to his desk at the table and reached for the first letter in her own pile. One of her index fingers hooked under the wax seal before she ripped it open and began reading..
A scoff escaped her halfway through the tenth or so letter she'd read. She couldn't believe what she was reading, even if the words were right there in front of her, clasped between her own hands. The Jarl Hrongar of Whiterun had officially invited the two of them to his wedding in a fortnight. He was marrying Carlotta of Whiterun, his brother's former mistress. Didn't anyone marry for love anymore? Was what her parents had a novelty? Even now, six weeks into her own marriage, she didn't understand the appeal. No part of what she'd come in to was worth it aside from defeating the World Eater.
"Find something interesting?" Ulfric asked and Arielle pursed her lips before one of her hands brought the letter onto the top of the unimportant pile with an audible slap. "Hardly. Hrongar invited us to his wedding." she told him before reaching for the next letter in the pile. It only just occured to her, that there was the very real possibility of Ulfric having his own mistress. A frown came to her face at that realization. Of course, Ulfric had maintained the façade of a happy couple toward the people of Windhelm and beyond. So, she could only hope that the very same courtesy would extend to their children. She wasn't sure she could face that kind of humiliation if they knew, or gods forbid, saw the woman.
"I thought you were fond of Hrongar." Ulfric said, his curiosity apparent in his tone. She kept her eyes planted on the new letter in front of herself. It was a request for more soldiers along Falkreath's southern border. That one went to the important pile, keeping the southern border of Skyrim well manned was imperative to their victory in this war. They could not give the Empire the chance to cross into Stormcloak territory. "He's marrying his brother's mistress." she said, mentally wondering if the distaste in her tone was as audible as she thought it was. Remembering how she'd seen the auburn-haired Nord sneaking about the palace more than once on her way to and from the Jarl's chambers. And to think that man had the nerve to ask her hand in marriage. Of course, it mattered little now, as she sat in another's Jarl's palace as his wife. Gods, they really were all the same.. "He must be desperate for heirs." Ulfric said and she hummed but said nothing else as she ripped the seal open of the next letter..
Sometime later, when Jorleif popped in to inform them that it was time for dinner, Ulfric escorted her to the dining room. Immediately upon crossing the threshold, they were greeted by bright candlelight. No surface had been spared from it's own flame and festive garlands decorated the walls and tables. Multiple tables had been set up, in a similar fashion to their wedding and most were already occupied by the more well-off citizens of Windhelm. Rona had informed her of the feast a week prior so she knew there would be a large number of people in the hall. Of course, expecting it and experiencing it are two completely different things and she felt her pulse begin to quicken at the sight of the many eyes that suddenly fell upon her.
Ulfric led her to a table that faced the others where she sat to his right. With Galmar and Lydia already sitting in their respective seats on either side of them, it was all too reminiscent of their wedding. Immediately, her eyes were drawn to the intricately woven braids throughout Lydia's brown hair. "You look nice." Arielle said quietly for privacy's sake. Lydia snorted a laugh before bringing her goblet to her lips. "Rona's doing." she said between drinks.
Under normal circumstances, Arielle might have shot her a small smile. Instead, she focused her attention on her own goblet, drinking deeply and enjoying the taste of the honeyed brew she'd been served. The castle's bard, an auburn haired woman who's name she'd learned to be Sonja, softly plucked the delicate strings of her lute. She was joined by two others, both of them brandishing their own instruments, a drum and another lute. The trio worked together to fill the large hall with a festive tune. It worked well enough, she could see the many smiling faces that looked back at her. Everyone seemed excited for this new year to come. Even the castle's recluse of a court wizard, Wuunferth, swept into the hall for a plate of food. She wasn't quite sure what to make of that particular man. She'd only had a few run-ins with him since the majority of his time was spent holed up in his laboratory. Last Arielle heard, he was working on concocting super combustible fire salts to cover catapult ammunition. She could only hope that he didn't bring the castle down on them in the process.
"You're tense." Ulfric observed while the prongs of her fork picked at a rather soft piece of potato that she'd already split into about six or so pieces. One thing she had yet to get used to, was Ulfric's observant nature. In all their weeks spent together, he'd familiarized himself with her different moods, questioning them whenever he could. The very opposite was what she'd come to appreciate about Lydia. The woman could tell whenever she didn't want to talk about something and let it be. Ulfric granted no such favors. "They're all staring at me." she said plainly, keeping her face as expressionless as possible. "Of course I'm tense."
He snorted a laugh beside her and her eyes followed his goblet as he brought it to his lips. "Would it be helpful to know that they adore you?" he asked, not bothering to hide his amusement at her sudden discomfort.
She met his eyes, giving him a slight shake of her head before she responded. "Definitely not." she said, her tension apparent in the quickness of her reply.
"I'm sure they would love it if we danced." he said, all too casually and her eyes widened, her blood running cold when she realized that he was not jesting, but genuinely suggesting they dance for the enjoyment of their many guests. For a moment she was stunned by the surprise of his suggestion. They hadn't danced at their wedding, she didn't even think the Jarl knew how to dance, her mind vehemently refusing to conjure up such an image. And he was so much larger than her, they would look entirely ridiculous, she was sure.
"Shall we?" he asked, standing from his chair and holding his hand out, palm up while he waited for her own. "I do not think I could keep up with your stride." she said immediately, to which the Jarl shot her a rather unimpressed look. His hand did not waver and she realized that he was not giving her an option to refuse. "Oh gods." she breathed, quickly downing the rest of her drink before placing her hand in his and allowing him to pull her to her feet. As he led her to the open side of the room where a few other diners had already began dancing to the festive music, she couldn't help but frown as she was once again reminded of how little her thoughts and feelings mattered, how little she mattered.
Her frown stayed in place, despite her efforts to remove it when his free hand landed on the small of her back, pulling her closer til hers found a comfortable position on the upper part of his linen covered bicep. He raised their clasped hands before leading them flawlessly into a dance. In a desperate attempt to think about anything but the many eyes that followed them as they spun in elegant circles across the floor, her own eyes landed on the amulet of Talos that still decorated the Jarl's neck. Her father's amulet. She was surprised he still wore it but she mentally chocked it up to one more thing he did to keep their illusion of a happy marriage alive.
Her mind couldn't help but to conjure up the happy memories of herself dancing with her parents back in Helgen. How she would laugh and smile while they danced the many nights of Saturalia and New Life away, a stark contrast to the frown she now worked to keep off her face as she danced with her husband. She only hoped she could instill some type of happiness in their children before he would no doubt put them to training.
"You dance beautifully." he said, breaking her out of her thoughts and pulling her closer as they continued to spin, the hem of the skirt of her dress floating wildly over the stone floor in it's desperate attempt to keep up with her fluid movements. A quick glance spared at their table and Arielle realized that her seat was no longer empty but occupied by none other than Galmar. He was speaking to Lydia, who's eyes were trained forward but unmistakable was the blush painted across her cheeks before she brought her goblet to her lips. An exhaled laugh tore her attention away from the pair and she looked up to meet the Jarl's eyes that were looking back at her with a type of mirth. "I do believe our housecarls are smitten." he said and her frown deepened.
He scoffed. "Does that really displease you?" he asked and her eyes dropped back to the amulet around his neck. It didn't, she supposed. If anything she was glad of the possibility of Lydia finding some semblance of happiness. The woman had after all, walked willingly into this life beside her, despite being released from service. And after faithfully traipsing across Skyrim for over a year while Arielle pursued the World Eater, she was certainly entitled to whatever happiness she could manage to find. "It doesn't." she said, without meeting his eyes. "As long as he is.. honorable, in his intentions." Because she deserved that, at the very least.
Ulfric hummed in response while they continued to spin in elegant circles. The music and merriment around them had grown louder and the floor had become littered by more eager couples dancing around them. Though her eyes could focus on none of them due to how quickly their feet moved with the music. So quickly, that she soon found herself dizzy from the world spinning around them, the Jarl's hands the only thing keeping her rooted in the reality of the feast around them. He pulled her closer, til she was nearly pressed against the steel of his chestplate and forced to crane her neck to meet his eyes.
His icy irises were intense as he stared back at her and having been with him as long as she had, she now recognized the look he was giving her. He wanted her, wanted her body and she hated her own body's reaction to that look. Hated the way the blood pooled in her cheeks in a heavy blush and the flicker of a flame coming to life deep in the pit of her belly. But for all the hatred she felt, there still existed that part of her, deep in her mind that was elated by the promises of pleasure that came with such a look. The smallest of smiles stretched his face at her reaction, he knew. He always knew.
As the latest song came to a close and no sonner had Arielle and Ulfric come up from their bows, did he scoop her off her feet in what she could only assume was a show of his manliness. She had no choice but to cling to the fur cloak around his neck and shoulders as he carried her effortlessly out of the dining hall that had erupted with coos and cheers at the Jarl's sudden display of eager affection. Though her mind had already forgotten it, the sound fading to the back of her mind as Ulfric carried her away from their noble guests and up the stone stairs to the second floor of the palace.
She kept her eyes forward as the cold steel of his chestplate seeped through her dress, chilling her skin and when they rounded the corner of the upstairs hallway, the door to their bedroom coming into view, she was suddenly overwhelmed by the shameful eagerness of the night to come.