THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN EDITED. The story is still the same, but the dialouge between Elisif and Ulfric have been heavily edited and I believe it's 10 times better. So if you've already read this chapter, I would very much appreciate you taking another look. Then, it would be completely AWESOME if you gave me your opinion on whether or not you like this one better. Croatin (my beta) and I worked really hard on this one!

Thanks! ~ Sky

Chapter 3: Seclusion

The Thalmor Captain was distressed. All five of his fingernails repeatedly tapped against the wooden desk. His anxiety rose as thoughts raced through his head. Elisif's assassination attempt was a failure. Even worse than that was the outright fool he made of himself, and Elenwen loved to pester him about it every chance she got.

This is not a problem...This is not a problem at all... He kept saying to himself a million times in his head, but the shaking of his body and heavy breathing made it clear that he was lying to himself. He tried to convince himself that no one could pin the assassination attempt on the Thalmor, least of all Elrohir. The truth was the Thalmor were always the first people to pin it on.

The plan was simple. The Empire adored Elisif, and they had every reason to. Why shouldn't they? She was a strong, independent, young women who devastatingly lost her husband in front of her eyes that started the war and turned her beloved country around. The Empire was compelled to do anything for her and her late husband's loyalty. She was an icon, a symbol for what bravery meant.

If she had been murdered under the Stormcloak's care, think of outbreak that would cause!

The Empire would be distraught. It would fuel their hatred for the Stormcloaks even more, and they would ravage the country out of anger. At least, that's what Elrohir believed. Elenwen was not convinced of the scenario.

Framing the heartless Ulfric for murder wasn't so easy, he found out. Elenwen underestimated the Nord over the power he had politically and physically. When Elrohir did the same, he was the target of her ruthless banter and taunts.

How do you get to a girl who's watched like a hawk?

I wonder if the Black Sacrament is out of the question...

Elisif's head was throbbing like a drum. The nurses took care of her burns and bruises from the fire to the best of their abilities, but she could still feel every popping nerve the flames touched on her body.

She never seen the hooded figures, only waking up when she heard the stagecoach's shouting. Then the carriage had been attacked. Elisif had only found out what happened to her from the nurses when she woke the next morning. She had heard the hissing of the flames that burnt the carriage, and felt the hard rocky ground when she fell face down into it. She even felt the tight grip of Ulfric's warm arms around her body and saw his implacable face staring at her attackers. For the one moment she was able to stay awake, Elisif felt safe.

The nurse's tale seemed just as heroic as she thought it had been. They told her Ulfric saved her from the depths of the fire and two assassins, and if they hadn't confirmed it, Elisif would have thought it was just a dream.

"You just get some rest, milady," The head nurse suggested as she got Elisif's medicine ready to take. "You've had quite an adventure yesterday, and you're still not a hundred percent healthy."

Elisif shook her head and muttered, "I've had enough sleep as it is. I just want to get out of this room."

"You'll be going no where with those nasty burns, I'm afraid," The nurse informed her and handed her the medicine. She watched as Elisif downed it with water, who gave a distasteful look on her face. "You should feel lucky you made it out of that ordeal alive."

"Everyone keeps using that word, lucky."

The nurse observed her in concern. She sat down by Elisif on her soft bed and held her hand tenderly.

"You don't feel lucky, milady? After the second chance you've been given?"

Elisif shifted her eyes to her caretaker's soft wrinkled hands and squeezed them gently. "What's so special about 'luck' if you're not happy?" She whispered.

Her nurse gave her a sympathetic look. The former Jarl was very young. She was young enough to disbelieve and reject changes in her life, and never accepting the way things are. She was stubborn, just like any other girl that was treated as a princess. The nurse could give no advice on the situation. She wanted to tell her 'just sit back a while, enjoy the luxury and accept that you're alive.' The truth was, she had no idea what it was like to be in that situation.

Before the nurse could give any comfort, the door suddenly flew open, and there Ulfric Stormcloak stood. The nurse didn't have to ask any questions to know the stoic man was angry. She turned her head quickly to the maiden and gave her a another concerned glance, then got up to leave. She scurried quickly passed the larger man, giving him no greeting nor sign of acknowledgment.

The door closed, leaving just the two bitter opposites to glare at each other.

Ulfric didn't say a word. He started to pace around, inspecting her she shifted uncomfortably. The only noise in the room was was the thumping of his boots on the hardwood floor as he jaunted back and forth. He simply didn't know what to say. The Nord in him wanted to scream, to lash out and be done with her for good. Instead, he pacified his emotions inside as best he could. He could feel the heat in his face from his anger, and he was sure his face was blood red. His jaw was clenched tight to control himself from yelling across the room.

Elisif shifted uncomfortably in her bed, distracting herself by ruffling the comforter in her hands to avoid the angered glare of the Stormcloak King. She had heard of his wrath, and the treatment of those who angered him before. Elisif tried to show she wasn't fazed by him, but she was frightened inside.

Ulfric finally stopped pacing around, and instead headed for the nearby wooden seat that was by her bed. Elisif shifted in her bed even more in the opposite direction of where he sat, now uncomfortable on how close he was to her.

"Someone died tonight, Elisif," He started the conversation in a voice that he was clearly forced to control, "that man that you so foolishly endangered died last night. He had a family here...A child and a wife."

He studied Elisif as her face softened in regret. Her eyes shifted downwards, not daring to meet in him in eyes, and softly bit her bottom lip.

"I knew you were selfish, Elisif," he scoffed. "I knew you were self-centered...but to go this far-"

"What was I supposed to do?" Elisif snapped. "I had no idea that man was going to die! If you didn't lock me up here like an animal, none of this would have ever happened!"

Ulfric's face reddened, and she could see he was holding back his anger. He put his palms on the bed and leaned in much closer to her, disregarding her personal space.

"I'll make this clear," He said with a very low and unsteady voice, "That. Man. Died. And he died because of You! You alone are the reason he was there when he shouldn't have been. His blood is on your hands, and yours alone. No one else."

"And what about you?" She quickly snapped back, challenging him, "What about the blood on your hands from the soldiers you sent for your ridiculous cause?"

Ulfric instantly shot up from his seat and kicking it behind him. He was blinded with rage at her words, and he could no longer keep it contained.

"You DARE bring them into this!" Ulfric roared so loud that Elisif jumped back in fright.

"The stains of their blood will never wash from my hands!-" He stopped himself, not wanting to reveal his regrets.

Ulfric did feel guilty over his soldier's deaths. He felt the pain from each man, a pain she could never imagine. He wept for them, knowing he was at fault as they died under his name and the name of the cause.

"But at least they had a reason to die for!" Ulfric continued, " Their deaths where not in vain! That man died for no reason other than for you being a god DAMNED FOOL! He died for nothing!"

When his roars finally ceased, Elisif shook with fear and unable to stop. She was terrified of the man in front of her, and hadn't noticed that she had been crying during his rant. Shamefully, she wiped them away.

Ulfric sat and looked at her, still panting, realizing that her face was wet. He hadn't meant to go that far, just enough to get the point in.

Ulfric took another deep breath to calm himself down. Then, with a softer voice, he spoke again.

"He had a family, Elisif. Least you take pity on them."

With nothing more to say, Ulfric finally turned around. He left Elsif to her thoughts with no regrets over his outburst.

Elisif exhaled, relived he was finally gone. Her body shook with nerves, and her eyes were hot with tears. She had never been treated so unruly! Nor had she ever seen someone that enraged, scolding her in that roaring voice. Quietly, Elisif sneaked out of bed. She could hear Ulfric outside, ordering around one of his guards to keep a closer eye on her.

Gods, how she hated everything about that man. She hated his proud stance. She hated his assumption he was privileged to have anything he wanted. She hatedt hat he was right. And she hated that he made her feel so guilty. Elisif had forgotten about the man who died, and he did die because of her. Had she really become this selfish?

Elisif wiped her eyes from the tears and shook her head frantically. Elisif the Fair hated Ulfric Stormcloak.

The Blue Palace was never as peaceful as it had been before the Stormcloak invasion. People were constantly harassed by the new soldiers and others were always on the edge. Children, however, never seemed phased about what was going on. The ran around the whole castle playing their games while they felt safe because their father was Balgruuf the Greater. Nothing could harm them while under his wing, they thought.

Balgruuf was happy they thought that, at least. The only thing he ever cared about was his many children's happiness. When the Stormcloak's invaded Whiterun, the children asked innocently why they had to move away. He knew Elisif, the inexperienced, oblivious but kind Jarl, would shelter them from any harassment the Gray-Mane's would cause to them. He was in her debt.

He should have hated Ulfric and his petty rebellion. He had every right right to. But Balgruuf was wise in every sense of the word, and by nature was never a vengeful person. That's why he stayed out of the war. When the Stormcloaks raided Solitude, Balgruuf was ready to pack up with his children and leave, just to stay out of trouble. The only thing that made him stay was word that Elisif was taken prisoner. He wanted to go, but after everything she had done for him, he stayed in respect of her. Something just made him feel awful for considering leaving her to that bigot, Ulfric.

Then, Vignar, who had taken Balgruuf's rightful place as Jarl, was murdered. This surprised everyone, Balgruuf most of all. He knew his former home was shaken at the tragedy. More importantly, the Whiterun throne was empty, leaving the people-his people-to fend for themselves. No one in the world had the position and experience to fill that seat. It mad him wonder what action Ulfric would take to fix this. He knew he was going to get a visit from him very soon.

Balgruuf was sitting at the long-table for a snack as he enjoyed watching his children play happily. As Balgruuf bit into his apple, he could see a tall broad frame of Ulfric in the corner of his eye, just as he predicted he would.

Ulfric walked towards the table, noting how Balgruuf chose not to acknowledge or look at him as he sat down. Instead, he continued with his snack. Ulfric sighed. They were certainly not on good terms, and this conversation who surely not be as easy as he would hope.

Balgruuf put his apple core down, still chewing on the remnants. "After a week and a half of being here, you finally decided to visit."

Ulfric gave a faint chuckle. "I try what I can do with the little time I have, now a days."

"Then I could just imagine what you would want from an old man such as me."

Ulfric was surprised to find his nerves shaking. He valued his pride more than anything, even if he couldn't admit it to himself. Asking this of Balgruuf after taking his crown away would have him scrutinized. Still, there was no one else with the civil war, the Thalmor, and the Dragons, who would be willing to step up.

"You are not as angry as I thought you would be," Ulfric noted out loud.

Balgruuf took a sip of mead and gulped it down. "You never knew me well, boy. I care little for your bickering and war. I only have time for people and their welfare."

"And you think I don't?"

"Not as much as you like to credit yourself, anyway. If you did, I would have sided you a long time ago."

"I didn't come here for an lecture on my leadership, Balgruuf," Ulfric shot back, "I...I came here for a favor."

"As expected...," The other man grumbled. "I wont criticize you any longer, then. I'll listen."

Ulfric sighed. "I need you to take back your place as Jarl of Whiterun."

Balgruuf scoffed. Even when he knew the question was coming, he still felt disgusted over Ulfric. Still, Balgruuf knew if Ulfric was to come to him, he had to agree. He studied the Stormcloak leader, knowing that he had sensitivity in his eyes. Whether he was asking Balgruuf for the people of Whiterun or simply to keep his Jagged Crown, he didn't know. It didn't matter, anyway.

"I'll accept only for my people. I have little choice in the matter."

Ulfric got up instantly. "You have my gratitude, Balgruuf."

"I have nothing from you but a bunch of dead soldiers, boy," The older man retorted. "But, if I take this, there is one matter I wish for you to think upon."

"I could imagine," Ulfric uttered.

"I worry for Elisif."

Ulfric eyed Balgruuf, almost questioningly. "She's in good hands, you know that."

"Not so much her sanity," Balgruuf shot back. "It doesn't matter how tight you lock the key. She'll always try to run from you if you treat her like this."

"I don't know-"

"You do," Balgruuf stood up facing Ulfric. His voice lowered and spoke to him softly. "I know you care for her. For some...strange reason you're compelled to keep her close. But she's young, Ulfric. Far too young to be kept in a cage."

Ulfric shook his head and turned around to leave. He now remembered why he dreaded speaking to the old man so much, loathing how he loved to give advice on what he knew nothing about.

"You're wrong," he called out behind him. "I don't care. Nothing 'compels' me to keep her. I only attend for her safety because I must. For Torygg's sake."

Balgruuf grumbled. Ulfric sounded like he was picking excuses from hat. "What about her welfare?"

Ulfric stopped. In a low tone, he replied, "Her welfare is none of my concern."

And with that, Ulfric was gone.