There was to be a wedding today.
Not Thorunn's, much to her impatience dismay, but a wedding that was apparently to celebrate the union between an Imperial and a Stormcloak. Said Imperial had already sworn fealty to Ulfric, which brought a chuckle to Thorunn's lips. It was the only way this impending wedding was blessed by the High King. Both Ulfric and Thorunn guffawed at the idea of it; it was more of a joke to them than anything. There would never be peace between the Imperials and the Stormcloaks, not now.
But let them humor the High King. Ulfric was even attending the bonding between Vittoria Vici and Asgeir Snow-Shod himself, most likely to root out more rebellion, but even so. The Emperor's cousin had arrived with her groom just shy of an hour ago and was currently making preparations for the celebration while Ulfric and Thorunn readied themselves as well.
Thorunn dressed herself in a blue and silver velvet gown, jewels embedded on the hems. She tied a black fur cloak around her shoulders and put her hair into a traditional braided updo, worn exclusively by Nordic women. Beneath her dress were several daggers and various poisons. She dared to even sport a longsword in her belt, just to let everyone know she was not to be mistaken for a hapless damsel, despite the jewels and honeyed smile. The Talos amulet and Mara amulet weighed heavy beneath her dress, but not as heavy as the shield beneath her cloak.
Ulfric too wore a blue and silver tunic, his untidy braided hair held down by a grandiose jeweled golden crown. At his belt were two axes, the same ones he wielded during the Battle of Solitude. His cloak was silver and the Talos amulet around his neck gleamed. Thorunn thought he never looked more kingly than he did with a scrutinizing frown on his lips, and today, his frown was never more.
"I suspect the food will be good, if nothing else," he quipped upon reaching Thorunn just outside the Blue Palace. He was flanked by a unit of kingsguard, Galmar Stone-Fist among them. Galmar, not surprisingly, wore his usual Stormcloak Officer uniform and obnoxious glare.
"Watching the guests pretend to like each other should be amusing," Thorunn added with a smirk.
Ulfric nodded in agreement, and started down the cobblestone path, Thorunn at his side. Banners both baring the Imperial sigil and the Stormcloak sigil flocked the pillars surrounding the stone houses they passed. Common folk bowed their heads respectfully as Ulfric and the Dragonborn passed, though not all of them looked pleased to do so, Thorunn noted.
The courtyard slowly came into view. Music could be heard, coming from what Thorunn identified as ceremonial drums, mouth harps, and goat horns as well as other sounds she could not recognize from her Skyrim upbringing. Upon getting closer, the guests were visible, some wearing red and others wearing blue.
The esteemed bride and groom sat under a white arc and rows of wooden pews hosted the guests. Many looked displeased with their family member's choice of lover. Thorunn couldn't help but chuckle darkly. The crowd's quiet chattering came to a halt as she and Ulfric stepped into the courtyard, and all heads turned their way. Many of the guests in blue stood up to bow, eager to express their affection the newly appointed High King.
"High King Ulfric!" Asgeir, the groom, exclaimed. He stood from his seat and hurried over to them, kneeling the moment he approached and putting a fist over his heart. "I did not expect you to show up, Your Grace," he lavished.
Ulfric ushered for the red-faced man to stand, and stand he did. "Please," he insisted. "This is your day. You need not spare me your attention when you should be giving it to your blushing bride."
"I- of course! Of course. Please, enjoy yourself, and thank you for coming. Thank you. And you as well, m'lady." He bowed his head respectfully to Thorunn, and with a bemused smirk, she returned the nod dismissively. Beaming, the man returned to his bride, and the chatter resumed, some of it malcontent.
Thorunn ran her eyes over the courtyard. She identified a select few of the crowd, including Pantea Ateia. Most had average faces and average builds, nothing worthy of note. She grew bored until her eyes found an alarmingly handsome man standing off in the back, shoulder leaning against the doorway with his hands folded in front of his waist.
Unlike everyone else, he was not dressed in blue nor red. He was in black and gold, colors that complimented his blond hair and strikingly blue eyes. A Nord, she presumed, though his build was not that of the traditional. He was slender and tall, a build more akin to a person who wielded daggers or a bow. His eyes kept scanning the courtyard as if he were analyzing something, and his patronizing gaze eventually touched Thorunn's.
A smirk rose to his lips, and he winked.
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously and resisted the urge to grab the hilt of her sword. She did not break eye contact until he first looked away, then she turned her head to look at Ulfric to see if he'd noticed this. Instead, he was watching the exotic dancers across the yard. She suppressed a scoff.
Her eyes returned to the mysterious blond-haired man. His position had not changed since last she looked his way. She wondered if she should bring him to Ulfric's attention, but decided against it when she saw his eyes run up and down one of the dancers who was completely naked save for a loin cloth that reached her ankles and jeweled necklaces and chokers at her throat. A Redguard, at that.
"I'm going to speak with Pantea," she announced, then left Ulfric's presence. She did not head in Pantea's direction, however, instead going towards the back of the courtyard to confront this mystery man. He looked her way when he sensed her approach, though he seemed unfazed. Who did he think he was? He should be trembling by now.
But she kept her cool, and appeared passive as she leaned against the doorway opposite him. She placed her back against it and crossed her ankles, staring at him thoughtfully with her head tilted slightly. He side-eyed her, that sly smirk of his ever present.
He said nothing. The silence stretched on until Thorunn could scarcely stand it. "Who are you?" she demanded, breaking at last.
His smirk widened. "Nobody," he answered, his voice smooth and pleasant like mead.
"Nobody is 'nobody'," she retorted.
He shrugged casually. "Compared to you, they are."
"So you do know who I am."
"Thorunn Aseldottir-Stormblade, confidant of the King, Dragonborn, Harbinger of the Companions, Dragon Queen, and renowned shield maiden," he recited without missing a beat. "Charmed." His smirk transitioned into a genuine smile, though she was certain he was more pleased with his knowledge than with being in her presence.
Her eyes narrowed once more. Very few knew her given last name. This man was far from 'nobody'. "Who invited you?" she pressed.
"Invitations were given to no one," he responded coolly. "This is an open celebration, is it not? A free-for-all?"
He was right, but that brought her no comfort. "Your name," she insisted, her tone growing more firm. "What is your name?"
"Nobody," he repeated, smirk still present.
"I-"
"Dragonborn!" a boyish voice exclaimed, interrupting her. Her gaze turned to a glare faster than she would swing her sword and she whipped her head around to hand it to the persecutor. It was a boy, no older than twelve. "Dragonborn! Is it you? The dragon slayer?"
She sighed through gritted teeth, turning her body to face the boy. Gods, she couldn't wait to never have children. "Yes, child, now unless you would see the dragon within me awaken, I suggest you run along." She towered over him and he hunkered down. He gulped, nodding then taking off to go bother the musicians.
She watched him go, then went to return her attention to the mystery man, but he was gone. Furrowing her brows in confusion, she looked around but saw no sight of him. He wouldn't be hard to spot, dressed in black amidst a crowd in red and blue, but alas.
Then everything happened at once. A cry of pain from the bride followed the golden arrow that pierced the center of her forehead, then a cry of shock and anger from the groom, then the sound of steel scraping against a scabbard as he withdrew his sword. Several guests stood up with their blades drawn as well, and the kingsguard rushed to form a protective circle around the High King. A cacophony of shouts and clattering instruments enveloped the crowd.
It only grew louder when the Argonian dressed in Dark Brotherhood armor appeared from mid-air to distract the guards. Thorunn drew her sword, knowing exactly who had done this and angered by this knowledge. She rushed towards the Argonian, whose daggers flurried through the air faster than her eyes could follow. He'd taken down two guards before they could even realize what was happening, and one more before he, too, vanished right before their eyes. It was clear now that he was not aiming to kill. He was aiming to distract.
Thorunn's sword swung through vacant air. He was gone, and so was the handsome nobody. "Talos damn it!" she swore loudly.
"You cursed Stormcloaks! This was your doing!" an old Imperial woman shouted, voice drenched in hatred.
"Watch your tongue!" came the booming voice of Ulfric as he shoved through his guards to confront this woman. "The Stormcloaks had nothing to do with this, and to even suggest such a retched thing should be treated as treason!"
"Pah!" the woman spat. "Treason! You first betray your King, and now you betray your Emperor by slaying his cousin! At her wedding, of all things!"
The guards were already hurrying to arrest the woman. Thorunn could do nothing but watch, knuckles white against the hilt of her sword. The old woman kept her seething eyes on Ulfric the entire time she was being shackled. She spit on the ground before his feet. "The day you hang will be Skyrim's retribution," she promised, and then she was dragged away.