It was time.
The sun was just beginning to crest over the hills of Solitude, and Ulfric and his men stood outside the gates to the city, ready to attack. He had Galmar on one side, and Stormblade on the other (even wearing the bearskin helmet to denote her as a general, he noticed with pride) and his veins drummed with a sense of purpose. He had not felt this young in ages.
"This is it men!" He could see the hunger in the eyes of his troops, could feel their excitement on the wind. "It's time to make this city ours! We come to this moment carried by the sacrifices and courage of our fellows. Those who have fallen, and those who are still carrying the shields to our right." He noticed sadness pass over Svala's face like a shadow, even as she tightly gripped the sword he had made for her, probably thinking of Ralof. "On this day our enemy will witness the fullness of our determination, the true depth of our anger, and the exalted righteousness of our cause. The gods are watching. The spirits of our ancestors are stirring. And the men under suns yet to dawn will be transformed by what we do here today. Fear neither pain nor darkness.
"For Sovngarde awaits those who die with weapons in their hands and courage in their hearts. We now fight our way to Castle Dour to cut the head off the Legion itself! And in that moment, the gods will look down and see Skyrim as she was meant to be; full of Nords who are mighty, powerful, and free!" The answering roar of the crowd was deafening as they cheered and applauded, beat their weapons against their shields and the ground. "Ready now! Everyone with me! For the sons and daughters of Skyrim!!"
The answering roar was deafening as his troops ran towards the entrance to the city. "With me!" He called to Svala, who immediately nodded, seemingly of the same mind as him. They Shouted in tandem, the swell of the thu'um in his throat leaving him winded and irritated, but not so exhausted that he collapsed. Svala's Shout was more powerful than his as well, unsurprisingly, using the force of her Shout to not only destroy the wooden gates, but also leaving a crack in the stone foundation sending chunks of rock hurtling at civilians. He could see the fleeting regret in her eyes as she turned to look at him, but she ran forward all the same, charging into Solitude with her weapon brandished.
The first line of defense had been decimated, crushed underneath the debris caused from their Shouting. More imperials were filling the gaps now, as civilians scrambled to barricade themselves inside their businesses and homes. He had sliced through two of enemies already, the blood gleaming off his axe in the mop early morning light, and was dodging blow after blow. It seemed as though they were all fixated on him and him alone, trying to stop him before he reached Castle Dour.
A torrent of sparks rained down upon them from above; Ulfric and Galmar immediately dropped to their stomachs, yelling for the others to do the same. "Fucking mages!" Svala screamed from ahead of them, her expression murderous even from a few paces away. "They're on the levels above us- I'll clear them out!"
"No! Not alone!" Ulfric cried, but it was too late: she was up, using a Shout to hurtle herself forward with such speed that the shower of sparks missed their mark. Still, as he glanced upwards, he took note of the sheer volume of mages- more seemed to pop up with every passing second. Were they using portals?
When the constant barrage of lightning stopped, he rose to his feet once more, his body already leading him in the direction Svala had run off to. His heart pounded anxiously in his chest when he, at first, could not place her. Had they injured her, or worse? He didn't have much time to dwell, however, as an arrow went whizzing by his face, so close he could feel the kiss of it on the wind. "She'll be fine!" Galmar cried, scowling at him as he fended off three different Imperials at once. "Keep your head!"
Galmar was right, he couldn't allow himself to be distracted. With the mages' focus off of him, Ulfric was able to run closer to the heart of the city. He drove his axe into the chest of the nearest enemy soldier, pulling it out swiftly in one go as the blood from the injury spurted into his face. Moving swiftly, he was able to dodge the blade coming for his back, pivoting to the left and using the leverage of his axe to slice off the hand wielding the blade. There was a scream of pain, easily silenced, as he embedded his axe into the man's skull.
Suddenly, there was a loud crash; a body went sailing off of the stone parapet, landing onto one of the stalls in the marketplace below. Bits of wood and straw went flying everywhere, and as the smoke from the debris cleared he could make out the golden robes the body had been wearing- a Thalmor mage. Relief flooded through him as he realized it wasn't Svala being tossed to her death. A few more answering thuds as more mages were thrown from above only confirmed that, if anything, she was the one doing the tossing.
A second later, he saw a flash of red hair being precariously dangled above him as a figure in golden armor leaned above her. For a moment, everything else faded away, except the sight of her inches away from death.
Rea and the suave vampire's fangs sinking into her neck, tearing out her throat...Elenwen slicing off strips of flesh from his back...Rikke helping him eat and dress and bathe after being released...it was though it were all happening again, flashing in front of his eyes. His throat felt tight and his heart was beating so hard in his chest. Where was he? When was he?
"Ulfric!" Galmar was shaking him, his friend's face swimming into focus in front of his eyes. "Snap out of it!" He felt drunk, so disoriented as he looked up, searching for a shock of red hair only to find emptiness. A crumpled body in golden armor lied in a heap near the wall, and only then did sensation rush back into his body. "Stormblade cleared the way for us, let's go, the courtyard is clear!"
Ulfric nodded, still grappling with the feeling like his mind was submerged under water. Mechanically he moved, dodging swords and axes, cutting down those in his path. Once they finally entered the castle courtyard, he was relieved to see Svala standing amongst a pile of corpses breathing heavily. There was clear evidence of fire- their armor had fused to parts of charred skin, and there was a ring of blackened soot around the entire scene. Still, he was able to make out the shape of the bodies, proving that at one point they had indeed been human. He had half expected to find little piles of dust, like when she had returned with Corrium's remains. At least she hadn't lost control this time.
She was facing him now, staring at him, her mouth saying something he could not make out...until he felt the force of her thu'um and saw a sword go flying out of reach from behind him. Ulfric spun around quickly only to see a spineless Imperial staring at him, his face pallid and terrified. Before the gravity of the situation could catch up to him, before he could comprehend just how quickly he would have met his end if she would not have been there to disarm him, he shoved his sword through the lad's throat.
"We just need to break through the barricade to get into the keep," Svala told him, a question still lingering in her eyes. "Are you ready?"
"Galmar..." he looked around, fighting off the growing panic rising within him. If anything happened to him because of his own negligence, Ulfric would never forgive himself. Then he heard it.
"What are you waiting for?!" Galmar cried as he entered the palace courtyard, bloodied and bruised but relatively unscathed. He had a small band of reinforcements behind him, dragging with them a few Imperials they had managed to capture. "Let's give Tullius a proper hello!" He glanced at Svala. She nodded at him, determined.
He breathed deeply, trying to ignore the thick scents of blood, iron, burning flesh wafting in on the breeze. This was it, the moment he had been waiting for for so long...everything he had sacrificed, everything he had done had led him to this point. It was almost surreal. "Stormblade, take care of the barricade."
"Fus Ro!" She Shouted at the heavy doors to the castle, blasting them off their hinges. She then stood awkwardly to the side, glancing at him, a question evident in her expression. She looked uncomfortable as though she were uncertain of what to do with herself. "I can muster the rest of the troops while you two go ahead," she offered.
"No," Ulfric said forcefully at the same time as Galmar (which surprised him greatly). "With us." As they entered the palace, he grabbed her bicep and said gruffly into her ear, "I need you with me." He was still close enough to see her flush before they pulled away.
There were no soldiers inside, just an empty foyer. Apparently Stormblade's reconnaissance had been correct- they were short on numbers. Good. This would go quickly. "Secure the door," he said to Galmar.
"Already done." Galmar replied, holding his battle axe out in front of him. Svala stood next to him, her sword at the ready, a look of purpose in her eyes.
"Ulfric, stop." Rikke approached them, holding her great sword protectively in front of herself, her expression resigned.
He inhaled deeply. He wished she had deserted, or that someone else had already cut her down so that he would not be the one to do it. He didn't think he could kill Rikke, not after everything they had shared together. "Stop what? Taking Skyrim back from those who'd leave her to rot?" He couldn't let Galmar and Stormblade witness his weakness, no- better to just act unfeeling and let things play out as they would.
Rikke sighed. "You're wrong, Ulfric. We need the Empire. Without it Skyrim will surely fall to the Dominion."
"You were there with us! You saw it! The day the Empire signed that damn treaty was the day the Empire died." Galmar shouted from behind him. Ulfric was too distracted remembering the scent of Rikke's skin, the way her smile had appeared brighter than the moon the first time they had laid together...
"The Empire is weak, obsolete. Look how far we've come and with so little. When we're done rooting out Imperial influence here at home, then we will take our war to the Aldmeri Dominion." Rikke's mocking laughter cut him to the bone.
"You're a damn fool." She spat at him. Her body language told him she was preparing to attack. "All of you."
"Stand aside woman," Galmar growled in warning. "We've come for the General."
"He has given up," Ulfric could hear the disappointment and distaste in her tone. "But I have not."
Would she really be this stubborn? "Rikke. Go. You're free to leave." He wanted to grab her by the shoulders and plead with her to go. Anything to prevent the spilling of her blood.
"I'm also free to stay and fight for what I believe in." She took a step closer to them, sword raised.
"You're also free to die for it." Ulfric snarled, losing patience. He could see Svala tensing from beside him, her eyes focused on Rikke.
"This is what you wanted? Shield brothers and sisters killing each other? Families torn apart? This is the Skyrim you want?!" She shouted, approaching even closer. Galmar was now moving towards her slowly. Rikke ignored this and turned her attention to Svala. "What did he tell you, girl? Did he promise you power, riches?" For once, Stormblade remained silent, her face a blank grimace. "Did he offer you his heart? Because let me tell you girl, you aren't the first, and you certainly won't be the last." She finished her speech with a humorless laugh.
"Damnit woman, enough of this!" Galmar snarled. "Stand aside. Now."
"That's not the Skyrim I want to live in." Rikke raised her sword.
"What are you waiting for? Just kill her and get it over with." Svala hissed quietly to him.
"I fear that will be the way of it," he told her softly before turning his attention back to his former lover. "Rikke. Please. You don't have to do this."
"You've left me no choice," when she rose her head to face him, seeing the unshed tears in her eyes stole his breath. "Talos preserve us." And with that, Rikke charged.
Stormblade rushed forward to meet her, blocking her blow with her own sword. A shower of sparks rained down among the women as they began to fight in earnest, steel meeting ebony, as they dodged and spun in a deadly dance. "What are you waiting for?" Svala shouted at him, narrowly avoiding a thrust by Rikke. "Go get Tullius!"
He needed no more instruction, running further into the keep with Galmar to find the general. They did not have to search far; Tullius was seated in a small sitting room, his sword hanging uselessly by his side. When the Imperial raised his eyes to meet them, they were already dim with defeat. Still, he stood, and met them with a halfhearted swing of his sword- Galmar's answering block sent the weapon flying uselessly out of Tullius's hand.
A piercing scream filled the castle then, and Ulfric knew within his gut that Rikke was dead. He expected to feel some sort of grief, a numbing sadness...but all he could he focus on was the grim expression Svala wore when she rejoined them, Rikke's blood staining her face. "It's done," was all she said.
With the Rikke situation dealt with, he could finally focus on what he had set out to do...Tullius had his hands raised in surrender, and Galmar had his axe pointed between his eyes. "Enough," the General was repeating in a wheeze. "Enough."
Ulfric knelt so that they were eye to eye. "What is it that you told me in Helgen?" He pretended to think, as though those very words had not plagued him nightly since. "Ah yes.. 'the Empire is going to put you down and restore peace'." The graying man did not justify him with a response, instead remaining silent, hatred in his eyes. Ulfric spat in his face before continuing. "This is it for you. Any last words before I send you to Oblivion?"
Tullius laughed bleakly. "You realize this is exactly what they wanted."
"What who wanted?" Galmar asked.
"The Thalmor. They stirred up trouble here, forced us to divert needed resources and throw away good soldiers quelling this rebellion."
Ulfric smirked at that; arrogant to the end, it seemed. "It's a little more than a rebellion, don't you think?" He kicked Tullius in the ribs when he refused to answer. Galmar laughed. Svala remained silent.
"We aren't the bad guys, you know," Tullius wheezed at him from the floor, blood leaking out of the corners of his mouth.
"Maybe not," Ulfric relented. "But you certainly aren't the good guys."
"Perhaps you're right," Tullius laughed bitterly. "But then what does that make you?"
"You just said it yourself," Ulfric answered with a wave of his hand, at the same time Galmar cried, "It makes us right!"
The Imperial General ignored this. "And if I surrender?"
Ulfric snickered at that. "The Empire I remember never surrendered." Please, Tullius had been willing to try and execute him with a looming dragon attack. And he expected him to show him mercy?
"That Empire is dead and so are you." Galmar added.
Tullius gave each of them a withering, poisonous last look before relenting. "So be it."
He could hardly believe that the moment was here, that is was finally happening. With one swing of his sword, Tullius would be dead, the war over, and he would finally be king. It all felt so surreal.
"Just kill him and let's be done with it already!" Galmar groaned in complaint.
"Come Galmar," Ulfric chuckled. "Where's your sense of the dramatic moment?"
"By the gods!" Galmar snapped at him. "If it's a good ending to some story you're after- perhaps the Dragonborn should be the one to do it."
"Good point," he hummed thoughtfully before turning to Svala. "What say you, Dragonborn? Do you want the honor?"
Svala was stunned Ulfric was offering her this chance. If it had been Trearil in front of her, lying bruised and battered on the ground, her sword inches away from his neck...she shook her head. "That honor belongs to you."
Ulfric nodded. "As you wish. This moment, we three, will be immortalized in song." Without any further ado, Ulfric let his axe fly and with a sound thump Tullius's head was severed from its body.
For a moment, no one spoke. The gravity of the situation was starting to set in- Tullius was dead, Ulfric was now king, and the elves would be furious.
"Good. It's done." Galmar was the first to speak.
She went to respond until she felt Ulfric's heated gaze on her. She could feel the desire coming off him in waves before he even spoke in a gravelly, low tone. "Galmar, you can either let the men know I'll be out to speak to our victory momentarily, or you can stay and watch." Before either her or Galmar could question his statement, Ulfric had crossed the distance between them in two long strides (stepping over Tullius's cooling body) and sealed his mouth to hers.
"By the gods! Now?" Galmar groaned at him. Ulfric didn't even answer him (though it would have been hard for him to do so with the way his tongue was swirling around her mouth). "Fine, I'll let the men know you're...occupied. Make it quick, eh?"
The second she could no longer hear his footsteps anymore she tore her mouth away from Ulfric's. "Maybe we should wait," she panted as he mouthed his way down the column of her neck, biting and sucking the fair flesh he found there.
"I need you now." Ulfric growled, his deep voice taking on a primal note. Even with the urgency in his tone, his large hands caressed her delicately, treasuring her with every passing moment. "Please, Svala."
Her eyes nearly rolled back in her head hearing him call her name with such need. She kissed him roughly and he responded in kind, pressing her up against the nearest wall. His fingers were already crawling beneath the skirt of her uniform, brushing over her damp smalls. He pulled away for a moment to hiss his pleasure at her, his normally stormy blue eyes blown black with lust. "You're so wet for me, my good girl," Ulfric groaned in appreciation, moving her smalls to the side and shoving two large, calloused fingers into her. She gasped out a surprised moan. "Normally I'd love to take my time with you, savor your taste as you fall apart on my tongue..." He was taking his own erect cock from his trousers, already thick and hard and flushed red. "But I cannot wait. I need to feel you milk me, now."
With that, he thrust into her soundly. They both moaned loudly at the feeling, and Ulfric began to move, setting a rough and fast pace. He had never fucked her this viciously before- yes, she knew the new King of Skyrim favored rough sex, but this? She could nearly feel him poking out of her stomach. She wound a leg around his waist and held on for dear life, moaning his name continuously.
"So good for me," Ulfric was murmuring in her ear as his thrusts became sloppy and erratic. "My Stormblade, my Svala, mine." Seemingly remembering her request from last time they had laid together, he bit her (hard) on the junction where her neck met her shoulder. She moaned in pain and pleasure, noticing his lips were stained with her blood when he faced her again. "Gonna make you swell with my child, going to fill you up with my seed...gods I love you!" He finished in a strangled gasp and the confession was so shocking to her that she came immediately, her inner walls seizing around his pulsing cock. The last thing she saw before her eyes fluttered closed in her rapture was the sight of Tullius's severed head, eyes open and glassy, forever watching her with grim distaste.
After a few moments of catching their breath, Ulfric finally released her and she all but slid from her place on the wall, collapsing into a crumbled heap. "Did I hurt you?" He asked, helping her up and crushing her to his chest.
"Not anymore than I wanted you to," she responded with a shrug. The bite on her neck throbbed painfully. He had told her he loved her. Gods, what a mess. "What happens now?"
"Well I suppose some kind of speech is in order," Ulfric said with a small smile, his forehead pressed against hers. "Will you stand by my side? I wish to honor you, Dragonborn, and the truest of Stormcloaks. Let the people see who their new queen will be."
New queen?! She pulled out of his embrace, trying to find the words to tell him how she felt. She could never be queen, never be the woman he wanted (or needed) her to be. "I...I don't know if that's such a great idea."
"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow at her, a soft smile still playing on his lips. She wondered if he used to stare at Rikke like that, before she had disemboweled her. "And why is that?"
"Many have fought and died. I'm no different than they are." She couldn't meet that piercing blue gaze.
"On the contrary, you exceed the rest." He brought her knuckles up to his lips and kissed them softly. "You are my heart, Svala. Come, let us address the troops." Before she could argue, he was pulling her outside to the courtyard, the blinding midday sun in her eyes.
The cheers of celebration were deafening. She stood awkwardly next to Ulfric feeling wholly out of her element. He, however, seemed to glow under the praise. Holding up a massive hand for the crowd to silence, Galmar bellowed, "And now I present to you, Ulfric Stormcloak, hero of the people, liberator and high king of Skyrim!"
Ulfric squeezed her hand once, so quickly that if she would've blinked she would've missed the gesture, before stepping forward to address his people. "I am indeed Ulfric Stormcloak, and at my side is the woman we know as Stormblade but the world knows as Dragonborn." Chants and cries of her own name made Svala's face turn the color of her hair as she waved uncomfortably. "And indeed, there are many that call us heroes. But it is all of you who are the true heroes! It was you who fought a dying Empire who sunk its claws into our land, trying to drag us down with it. It was you who fought the Thalmor and their puppets who would have us deny our gods and our heritage. It was you who fought your kin who didn't understand our cause, who weren't willing to pay the price of our freedom. But more than that, it was you who fought for Skyrim, for our right to fight our own battles... To return to our glory and traditions, to determine our own future!"
More deafening cheers and shouts answered Ulfric's words. Even Svala was impressed- seeing Ulfric both on the battlefield and speaking to his men stirred something in her. Although his spend was currently running down her thighs, she still found herself wanting him anew. He held up his hands before continuing, "And it is for these reasons that I cannot accept the mantle of 'High King'. Not until the Moot declares that title should adorn my shoulders and will I accept it."
"What about Jarl Elisif?" A soldier with a nasty gash over one eye and a split lip called.
Ulfric smirked. "Yes, what about the Lady Elisif?" His head swiveled to the corner of the courtyard where she was being held by two hulking Stormcloaks. She looked quite different than the last time Svala had saw her; Elisif's fine dress was torn and stained and her normally immaculately arranged hair was messily out of place. However, other than seeming irritated and displeased by the entire ordeal, Svala found she was lacking in fear- especially given her current position. Odd. "Will she put aside her personal hatred for me, and her misplaced love for the Emperor and his coin, so that the suffering of our people will end? Will she acknowledge that is we Nords who will determine Skyrim's future? Will she swear fealty to me, so all may know we are at peace, and a new day has dawned?"
"I do!" Elisif cried with a thin smile. No hesitation, no difficulty in saying the words...odder still.
"Then it is settled," Ulfric proclaimed with a broad smile. "The Jarl will continue to rule Solitude, I will garrison armies here to ward off Imperial attempts to reclaim the city. And in due time, the Moot will meet, and settle the claim to High King once and for all. There is much to do, and I need every able bodied man and woman committed to rebuilding Skyrim. A great darkness is growing, and soon we will be called to fight it, on these shores or abroad. The Aldmeri Dominion may have defeated the Empire, but it has not defeated Skyrim!"
A new round of cheers and shouts began, accompanied by singing Ulfric's praises. The subject of songs himself turned to her and Galmar. "How'd I do?"
"Eh, not bad," Galmar shrugged with a grin. She was too busy scrutinizing Elisif as she glided away from the celebration. "Nice touch about the High King."
"Thank you, I thought so too." There was a smug look on Ulfric's face.
"It's a foregone conclusion, you know." Galmar added pointedly. She was still wondering just where Elisif had slithered off too...Ulfric was certainly giving her quite a bit of freedom.
"Oh I know."
"The Imperials aren't going to leave us alone. They still have camps in the hills. They'll continue to strike out at us, whenever and wherever they can." Galmar frowned.
"I'm not afraid of remnants of the Legion, in time they'll give up and go home," Ulfric said with a wave of his hand. "What I fear, is that the Thalmor will see our victory here and turn greater attention to our shores. We must be prepared to face them." He finished gravely.
Galmar agreed. "Aye." Svala nodded in agreement also. If anything, the Thalmor would come in full force; if not only to prove a point to Ulfric, but to capture her as well.
"And of course, we couldn't have done it without you," Ulfric turned his full attention to her, meeting her gaze with a soft smile. "May the gods preserve you." He raised his hand for a moment, perhaps to touch her, but dropped it after some hesitation and a stern look from Galmar.
"May the gods preserve us all." Galmar muttered darkly under his breath.
Ignoring this, she finally felt she had the opportunity to speak. "My jarl, is there anything else I can do for you? To further the cause?" the thought of leaving Ulfric made her stomach clench painfully. Without the war, all that was left for her was Alduin (and death, most likely).
"There will be a feast in Windhelm, in a fortnight's time, so that we can establish the Palace of the Kings as the new seat of Skyrim," Ulfric told her, that damned soft smile still on his face. She wanted to slap it off. "I expect you to be there. Wear my cloak."
Bastard. She bit the inside of her cheek to silence herself, remembering that Ulfric was technically a king now. "Of course."
He gave her one last lingering look before turning his attention back to Galmar. "Come, Galmar, we still have much work to do here." Galmar voiced his agreement and the two began to walk towards the Blue Palace, illuminated by the soft glow of dying fire and the brightness of the sun.