The eerie silence of High Hrothgar was welcoming. Minerva's face was in her palm, covering her closed eyes, as she was sitting on a chair somewhere in the halls of the Greybeard's home, far away from the people waiting for her to start the council. Time was running out as well as their patience, yet she needed a bit of time for herself to sort her thoughts.
Everything felt surreal and unfamiliar, she didn't feel like her own. She sighed, bringing her palm to her lips as she looked around the room.
Her thoughts were of her past, extensively picking at the memories of her childhood to find whether the Altmer was telling the truth or not. She suspected that if she thought harder, it would somehow conjure a forgotten memory of her parents. Preferably one that unveiled their unknown, earlier lives.
Of course the more she thought, the more irritated she became. And the headache only became worse.
When someone knocked on the door she frowned and remained silent. The door opened slowly, a heartbeat later Ulfric appeared behind them. Gently he closed the door and faced her.
She sat with one leg proped against the second chair, her elbow on her knee and her palm still against her mouth. Her eyes moved from the floor to look at him. Again, she couldn't describe the look on his face. It made her wonder what he thought about now, or when the Altmer almost got her killed.
He came closer, and when he reached the desk he leaned his rear against it and crossed his arms, looking not on her but forward. It made her wonder why he was here but she guessed she would soon find out.
They both remained silent for quite a while and she somehow found solace in his presence. What had transpired earlier rested heavily on her mind. The rage and bloodlust consumed her, she'd been unable to control it. The Altmer paid the ultimate price, he'd deserved it.
Yet she felt more hollow and lost than she did earlier that day. Killing him brought her temporary satisfaction, but afterwards she felt as though she was trapped in a dream, as though she was in a strangers body.
"Tullius thinks you have angered the Dominion by killing the elf."
His comment hung in the room. None of them knew the Altmer's true identity, not even Minerva, which didn't mean she cared. He'd killed her parents, it was all she needed to know. Whether the Dominion would recognize his death as an offense towards them, remained to be seen.
She looked at his profile, noticed his furrowed brows and tense jaw. Perhaps he worried about the same?
"What do you think?" she wondered.
He sighed, his shoulders slumping with it. "Elenwen provoked your reaction by bringing him here."
"So it was intentional?"
He remained silent. Minerva shook her head, suddenly having the need to explain her reaction, "For years I have longed for this day. To find the elf responsible for the assault and kill him the same way he's killed my parents."
He sighed again, sharply, looking at her when he stated sympathetically, "I'm not asking for an explanation. I certainly would have done the same."
To hear this comforted her. She didn't know she needed to hear this in order to feel better. The vile aftertaste of what had transpired still lingered, but she felt better.
"For now," he started and turned to face her. Minerva felt unusually small as he stared down at her like that, adding, "We have a World-Eater pressing at our backs."
She sighed, running her hand down her face and she stood up. Somehow she felt he understood and it meant a lot to her. Why, she couldn't really explain.
"I know," she sighed, leaning her hands on her waist, "I just thought that by killing him I would feel better. But somehow it only made it more… complicated."
She started walking around the room as she dragged on, oblivious whether he even wanted to listen, "It appears that even the enemy knew more about my parents than me."
A short silence followed as Minerva thought about her parents again and the grief consumed her.
"I don't know whether your father has fought in the Great War or not."
Minerva turned to face him, hands still on her waist, as she patiently waited for him to finish his thought.
He pushed himself off the desk and moved closer, standing now within her arms reach. His voice low, he said, "Whatever he did to anger them, you should be proud."
"I am, I guess," she admitted with a nervous laugh, lowering her gaze.
A few heartbeats passed in a comfortable silence, none had the urge to break it. He inhaled deeply, Minerva felt as though he tried to break free of the tension, to confess something.
"I admit," he spoke, his voice collected and calm, soft even, "I shouldn't have spoken to Galmar about matters that were none of his concern."
Her eyes were drawn to his and the color drained from her face. Thanks to the Altmer bastard, she forgot Galmar had almost killed her on their way to the council. The apology was sincere, there was no doubt about it but she needed to hear why.
He lowered his gaze and continued his explanation, "I needed to get a few things of my chest, and you weren't there."
"I am here, now," she quickly inserted, drawing his solemn eyes back to hers.
His eyes moved over her face until they focused on something. Gently he brought his fingers to her neck and moved the collar aside to reveal purple bruises along the delicate skin. Nervous sparks fluttered through her gut and she wanted to move his hand away. He freed his hand from her grip gently, then returned his touches to her neck.
"I may trust him with my life," he spoke, his eyes never moving from her neck, "But if he hurts you, ever again… I will end his life with my bare hands."
Her eyes froze on his as she swallowed, noticing the promise in them. She watched as he leaned down to kiss the bruise, as if it would disappear with it. His beard brushed against her skin, raising goosebumps in its path as he withdrew.
Minerva noticed how his face reappeared closer than it was mere seconds ago, but the cares put her in a trance and she couldn't deny him, couldn't even voice a proper word.
Everything died around her, the anger she felt towards him since this morning dissipated. Her heart stopped as he leaned down, their lips almost touching.
The door opened behind them and the two pulled apart, with Ulfric's hand still resting on her neck. Minerva glanced at the door and her stomach turned in disgust at the sight of Galmar standing in the doorway. She looked away and felt the loss of Ulfric's hand, shame spreading through her as she closed her eyes.
"The others are waiting," he informed, the irritation loud in his statement.
Minerva noticed the Jarl remained absolutely calm.
"A minute," Ulfric stated simply.
The tension left the room the moment she heard the door shut, though she couldn't return to the earlier moment. The spell was broken and she exhaled sharply, trying to calm her rapidly beating heart.
"We should head back to the council," she said and cleared her throat, attempting to walk past him.
The possessive grip on her wrist pulled her to a stop. Minerva was met with dark eyes, expression set with only one thought in mind. He erased the set distance between them, released the grip on her and cupped her face. Minerva's eyes widened when his hand came to the back to her neck, his fingers threading through her hair as he pulled her face closer.
Their lips collided roughly, but the kiss softened and Minerva leaned into his cares, closing her eyes. His other hand came to her waist and pulled her against him just as she moved her hands up his attire, wrapping them around his neck to pull him even harder against her.
Each kiss stole her breath and broke little pieces of her resolve to stop this, to return to the council. But her body moved on her own when her fingers found his hair, grabbing a fistful of it to pull his lips even harder to her. Minerva could feel the heat start low in her belly as the kiss continued, heat rose to her cheeks and ears when his hand came to her rear. The action was enough to pull her lips from his.
Confusion sparkled in his eyes as they both struggled to catch their breath. He dipped his head lower in an attempt to kiss her again, but she evaded and cupped his face instead, to bring his attention to her eyes instead of her lips.
"We have a meeting to attend to," she whispered, and focusing on his eyes became harder as he licked his lips.
"Aye," he agreed and cupped her chin, lifting her face to him. She was completely enraptured by the man standing before her and unable to break the spell he threw on her.
"I expect your return to Windhelm as soon as you finish capturing this dragon," he whispered, and Minerva arched an eyebrow in question.
"And why would I do that?" she taunted, and his reply made her knees turn to butter.
"To finish what I started here."
Minerva was certain she looked at him like an hungry wolf, ready to devour her prey. She was ready to devour him, but he was sadly right. Whatever they had intended to do here would have to wait.
He opened the door and waited for her to leave first. Her eyes were glued to his all until she moved past the door and she heard him closing it. He was right behind her as they walked back to the council, and when they entered every pair of eyes was directed at them.
She didn't expect to be met by silence when they returned. None of them said a word as Ulfric headed to Galmar. Everyone she looked at was avoiding her gaze. She wondered if it had something to do with the way she'd killed the Altmer.
"Now that the incident has been dealt with, we can begin with the negotiations," started Arngeir. The older man looked annoyed and wished to get the council over with.
She wasn't ignorant to the way Tullius looked at her; it was a mixture of anger and fear, but it surprised her when he addressed her, "You have killed an agent of the Dominion."
And Minerva was only too happy to argue back, "He was a murderer that deserved the worst death possible."
"The Dominion will be on our tails for this," he growled.
Minerva took her intended seat, fixing Tullius with her glare when she stated, "The sooner we get over this, the sooner we can focus on the important things."
The others took their seats as well, with the Imperials to her left and the Stormcloaks to her right. Jarl Vignar sat next to her, followed by Galmar and Ulfric. The Jarl of Windhelm sat opposite of general Tullius. Elisif sat between the legate and the general, shooting angry looks at Ulfric.
Esbern and Delphine sat on the far end of the table next to Arngeir even though the Greybeard couldn't stand them.
Arngeir opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Tullius. "Before we begin, I would like to make some things clear."
He cleared his throat before he elaborated, "We are here to arrange a temporary truce to help the Dragonborn deal with the dragons. Nothing else. I have no authority to negotiate a permanent settlement, unless Ulfric is ready to turn himself over to Imperial justice."
"Cut the preach, Tullius," Galmar growled. "We are here for a different reason entirely."
"You should show some respect to the general," Rikke warned with both her hands curled to fists on the table.
Galmar met her warning with a smug smile, "The Empire has lost my respect ages ago. You should know better, Rikke. You've been on the front lines with us."
"Thankfully, I recognized in time who is slaughtering the true sons and daughters of Skyrim," she said, sharp eyes piercing at Ulfric before looking at Galmar.
"Rikke," Tullius warned from next to her, "You're representing the Empire here."
It was as though the words dispelled the anger from her. Lowering her head, she said, "Of course, general. Sorry, sir."
"Enough posturing, Tullius." Ulfric stated, sounding irritated by their repartee, "If you came to talk, lets get on with it."
"Fine, let's get this over with," Tullius thankfully agreed. Minerva already felt the start of a headache at the back of her head. This would be a long meeting.
Arngeir, sounding as frustrated as he looked, asked, "Are we ready to proceed?" The two warrior's remained silent, and Arngeir continued. "General Tullius, Jarl Ulfric. We are gathered here at the Dragonborn's request. I ask you all to respect the spirit of High Hrothgar, and do your best to begin the process of achieving lasting peace in Skyrim. Now, who will open the negotiations?"
Minerva glanced at Ulfric, awaiting him to stand up first, but it was Tullius who spoke. "Our term's are simple. Riften must be returned to Imperial control."
"I knew it," Galmar grumbled under his breath, and Jarl Vignar couldn't help but voice his irritation and he addressed Elisif on that matter. Minerva couldn't look away from Ulfric; he was considering the general's request but he was plotting ways how he could turn that request into his favor.
"That's quite an opening demand, Tullius," Ulfric spoke, his voice heavy and eyes narrowed deep in thought.
She knew he would come up with something which would made the general regret his demand, but Vignar didn't know that. He stood up, his face wide in shock, his hands leaned on the stone surface of the table. "Ulfric, you can't seriously be considering this?" Vignar continued to voice displeasure over it.
The sharp eyes of the Jarl of Windhelm pierced into Vignar's, and the Jarl of Whiterun immediately understood he overstepped his boundaries.
"Vignar," Ulfric looked angry, though his voice was surprisingly calm when he reprimanded, "We will do whatever I decide is in the best interests of Skyrim. Are we clear?"
Minerva watched the lines of Ulfric's face closely, the danger spun in his eyes and his lip was pursed in a thin line as the bonfire casted shadows on his already deadly features. Minerva's thoughts drifted from the meeting, looking with dreamy eyes as she admitted the Jarl looked incredibly handsome.
The Jarl of Whiterun sat, apologized for his behaviour and silence settled in the hall. Ulfric sighed sharply and returned his attention to Tullius, sounding and looking beyond frustrated. His voice boomed in the hall and it snapped her back to the here and now. "Come on, Tullius. You can't expect us to just hand over Riften at the negotiating table."
She crossed her arms and stared at the fire; of course the general would request Riften during the peace council. It was something which would gain them an important strategic advantage. They would be at Windhelm's doorstep and Ulfric will have to double the number of soldiers in the city. But there had to be something they could demand in return, something which would hurt the general as equally.
"You haven't been able to take it back. Why should we give it up now?" he asked.
"I'm certain the general doesn't expect something for nothing," Arngeir inserted, and all attention in the room turned to the general.
"Of course," Galmar spoke, "What will you offer in exchange for Riften? Some empty promises? Or more Imperial bluster?!"
"Enough, Galmar," Ulfric silenced him, though he didn't sound as angry as he looked.
Galmar huffed as Arngeir addressed the Jarl. "Jarl Ulfric, what would you want in return?"
Minerva's heartbeat quickened as she watched Ulfric, eagerly expecting to hear what he had to say. She knew he had something in mind; he wouldn't be where he was today if he didn't have a plan for every situation.
His voice was unwavering, his posture authoritative when he spoke, "First, let me be clear. We all know that talking to the Empire is a waste of time, or worse. Imperial promises are simply a way to lull you while they prepare a dagger for your back."
Minerva winced inwardly, knowing what he was referring to and she looked at Tullius; he was sitting without giving away any reaction to Ulfric's accusations.
"Aye, we haven't forgotten Markarth, Tullius!" Galmar stated bitterly.
"But," Ulfric spoke again, and to her surprise he was looking at her when he continued, "These are dire times. The World-Eater threatens to destroy our lands if the Dragonborn fails, and that is why I agreed to attend to this council. I at least will negotiate in good faith."
She caught movement to her left and Minerva's eyes moved in time to see Elisif whispering something in Tullius's ear. His expression stiffened, then his eyes found hers and Minerva felt as though he looked right into her soul. Elisif pulled away and glared at her before averting her gaze to the front.
"The council was your idea," Ulfric spoke and pulled her gaze back to his. Minerva couldn't decipher the look on his face when he added, "So tell us, what do you think Riften is worth?"
He was asking her to decide and Minerva felt the weight of their gazes crushing her. The entire meeting played in her mind as she tried to come up with something that was worth trading Riften for.
As much as she knew they were close to liberate the Reach, but with the Empire in Riften Ulfric would have to pull forces from the battlefield to strengthen Windhelm's defenses. She assumed Maven Black-Briar would become Jarl of Riften, who in turn worked closely with the Thieves Guild, and the Master of the Thieves Guild was none other than Brynjolf. Though his aid wouldn't come without a price, Minerva could quell Imperial control greatly. They had not much to lose.
Her eyes met Ulfric's as she leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms. "How about the Reach?" she suggested, and Ulfric's eyes lit up.
Looking at the general, Ulfric couldn't wipe the smile from his face. "You heard the woman, Tullius. We've made you a fair offer."
Tullius was looking from her to Ulfric and back, as if putting pieces in his mind together. His face drakened, his mouth turned down into a scowl as realization dawned upon him. "I should have known this wouldn't be a negotiation at all. You disappoint me, Dragonborn. I agreed to this meeting even though I knew your relations with the rebels."
It was meant to get a rise out of her, but Minerva only smiled. They continued arguing about the terms, and Esbern had to remind all of them why they were attending the council.
Tullius admitted he couldn't agree to those terms, so he demanded compensation for a massacre even Minerva had heard of. That piqued her interest as she averted her gaze to Galmar, who was defending his soldier's while Rikke spat her accusations.
"You slaughtered the very people you claim to be fighting for! Women died in the massacre, children! How dare you call yourselves true sons of Skyrim?!"
Galmar stood to face her, slamming both his hands on the table. "Damn Imperial lies! My men would never stoop to such methods, even during times of war! We are no butchers, unlike your Imperial friends!"
"But who was behind the massacre?" Minerva's question silenced the room, and Rikke was quick to answer.
"We have proof the Stormcloaks raided the village! We have survivors who can identify them!"
Galmar looked like he was about to tear the head from Rikke's body. "More like men who would sell their own mother for the right amount of coin," he growled, and Rikke's hand flew to the pommel of her sword, her eyes narrowed to two angry slits.
"Rikke!" Tullius warned as he shot to his feet, ready to intervene. "Control your temper or I will have to remove you!"
Rikke, still glaring at Galmar, heavy heartedly released her sword and slumped into her seat. A deafening silence filled the room and Minerva cleared her throat. "Are the survivors available now? Can they testify?"
Rikke worked her jaw as she huffed. "No, they're not available," she dismissed, crossing her arms without ever moving her eyes from Galmar.
She knew Minerva's next statement would pull at the strings of what little patience Rikke had left. "Then I don't see how we can accuse the Stormcloaks of the massacre without any valid proof."
Minerva was right; Rikke's wide angry eyes looked at her and it seemed like the Nord wanted to kill her. "Rikke..." Tullius warned lowly, before he sighed. "Once again, the Empire takes the blame for the crimes of others."
"This is our homeland, Tullius," Ulfric spoke, his voice grave, "All the blood spilled in this war is on your head."
Tullius seemed frustrated and Minerva enjoyed the sight of the short man squirming in his seat. "Come on Ulfric, you have to give me some ground. I cannot agree to this," he stated, sounding desperate and Minerva had to fight the chuckle tingling at the back of her throat.
"Alright, out with it, then," Ulfric agreed and Galmar growled in irritation.
"We want the Jarl of Winterhold to step down, and be replaced with another Imperial candidate."
As much as she wished someone nicer would replace Korir, accepting the general's demand wasn't an option. Korir hated the College, but he was faithful to Ulfric and his cause. Currently, that mattered most.
As expected, Ulfric declined. The Empire was already threatening him from the south, they didn't need the Empire threatening them from the north as well.
Tullius, smiling bitterly, shook his head in disbelief. Elisif placed her hand on his forearm and leaned in closer, whispering something in his ear again to which the general's eyes widened before he looked at Minerva.
"Speak up, Elisif," Minerva called out and the Jarl jumped in her seat in surprise. "Share your secrets. Perhaps it is something of great importance that will change the tide for the Empire."
Minerva had a hunch that there was more to the two than they showed, but she couldn't tell yet.
But Tullius looked her squarely in the eyes when he spoke, "Now I understand why it was a mistake to agree to this council. Not just because you favour the rebels... But because you also favour their leader."
"I don't see how this could be of importance," she said, and bit the inside of her cheek; she didn't retort the accusation which meant it was true. She cursed her rashness. It pulled a victorious smile on Elisif's face, one Minerva wanted to punch.
The general continued to spit his poisoned words right into her face. "You think aiding him will give you an ally to hold of the Aldmeri forces and keep your freedom. You think once he secures the throne, he will use his army to shield you from the Dominion."
Minerva never intended to use the Jarl but now she realized what it looked like to the outside; the Dragonborn, who'd escaped the Aldmeri prison, aids the Jarl of Windhelm in return for protection. It would be the first thing the people thought of her if they knew her story even a little.
Caught off guard, she didn't know how to fight back. Though the idea was ridiculous, she had no proof of it not being the case. So that's what Elisif had been whispering into his ear.
"Mine and the Dragonborn's interests align, Tullius. I don't see how this is relevant to the peace council," Ulfric spoke up, but the general was far from over.
"You lulled her to believe a lie," he bit back before Tullius looked at her, "Even if he wins the war, his forces will not even closely suffice to fight the Aldmeri Dominion."
Minerva ground her teeth, the general's words making a dent in her belief that she did the right thing by siding with the Stormcloaks. She hated the elves, yes, but the general had a point. Ulfric will need time to rebuild Skyrim's glory, it would take years to bring back the strength of his armies. Still, that wasn't the reason she joined with the rebels.
"He claims the Empires words lull people before they ready a dagger for their back," Tullius continued to spread his poison, his gaze fixed on the Jarl of Windhelm, "Who is to say Ulfric isn't doing the same with you?"
"Tullius..." Ulfric warned, and Minerva's eyes were drawn to him; she had never seen him that angry before as he regarded the general with his most deadliest stare. "I would suggest you watch your foul mouth."
"Yes," Galmar growled from next to him, "We could end the war right here."
Their voices boomed in the room, throwing accusations at each other before Minerva stood up, silencing everyone and pulling every pair of eyes on her. Slowly she walked to her right, adding an extra sway to her hips. She passed the seats of Vignar, Galmar, and when she reached the Jarl she placed her hand on his shoulder. It was a dangerous game she came up with and she hoped Ulfric would play along, just for the sake of angering Tullius further.
Her eyes moved from Elisif to Tullius and back as she leaned down, her mouth hovering right above Ulfric's ear. She didn't even do anything yet but Elisif's eyes widened, whether in surprise or rage she couldn't tell.
"There is something between the two," she whispered, and watched how Ulfric's eyes searched their faces for whatever Minerva was implying. "I think they are lovers."
Ulfric made a sound of agreement in the back of his throat and leaned further into his seat. It looked like he was enjoying her cares and she wondered whether he acted or not.
"If that is even remotely true," Minerva continued as she snaked an arm to his chest, half hugging him, "We could use that to our advantage and Tullius will have to agree to our terms if he doesn't want the rumor spread."
Ulfric laughed lightly and Minerva stepped away, her hand still resting on his shoulder as she glared victoriously at Elisif. Minerva walked away from the Jarl, letting her hand slide of his shoulder as she walked back to her seat. "Jarl Ulfric is a cunning man," Minerva spoke, all eyes in the room directed at her, "We have all seen what he can do with his Voice," Elisif's expression tensed in disgust.
Once she stood next to her seat, Minerva darted her eyes from Elisif to Tullius and back, before she gave voice to her accusation, "The death of your beloved husband must weigh heavily on your shoulders, Elisif. I suppose it is why you seek solace in the arms of another man."
Minerva watched their reaction closely and knew she was right; Elisif's eyes widened and her rosy cheeks stood out on her pale skin, the general readjusted in his seat, though Minerva could recognize the look of shame from miles away.
"How dare you?!" barked Rikke from next to her but Minerva didn't spare her even a glance, her eyes fixed on the Jarl of Solitude.
Surprisingly, Elisif remained silent and instead looked at the table. Instead, Tullius tried to prove her wrong, "Have you no shame, Dragonborn?! These are dire accusations!"
"But they are true," she stated calmly, looking at Tullius, "The whispers, holding hands, the kind words shared between the two. But there is no shame in that. You are both adults, and adults have certain needs that need to be satisfied." She let the sentence weigh in the air between them before she allowed a plotting grin to stretch her lips. "But what would the people of Solitude say? The death of Torygg happened barely two years ago, and his mourning wife already found someone else."
Elisif turned to Tullius, "It's still too soon. They can't know."
"They won't," Minerva inserted and retook her seat. "Agree to the terms and we will spare the people of Solitude the horrendous news."
Tullius looked mad, he looked ready to slice her throat as she bravely met his gaze. He was working his jaw before he regarded the Dragonborn, "There hasn't been much to negotiate from the beginning. Alright... I accept the terms."
Arngeir sighed heavily, standing tall at the far end of the table as he summarised the terms of the treaty. While he spoke, Minerva's eyes flew to Ulfric and found him looking at her with something she'd never seen before. He gave her a firm nod, the smile of satisfaction on his lips. They were victorious here and Minerva couldn't wipe the smile from her face.