Fakhriya and Jenassa have convinced the Greybeards to host a peace council at High Hrothgar to work out a cease fire between the Imperials and the Stormcloaks. If the truce is made, the Jarl of Whiterun will allow Fakhriya to capture a dragon at Dragonreach so that she may learn where Alduin is hiding.
The winds whipping off the Ghost Sea were heavy with the threat of a storm. Fakhriya was just thankful that she made it to the door of Castle Dour before the rain started. She had spent a considerable amount of time – not to mention more than a handful of septims – to get her hair straightened and cut with the long, asymmetric bangs that had been fashionable in Imperial City when she had last gone home to Cyrodiil. The style was just starting to become popular among Solitude's well-to-do women, but if General Tullius had been to the Imperial capital at all in the last year or so, Fakhriya expected her haircut would remind him of home.
Fakhriya's outfit consisted of dark brown leather boots and pants, a brown top with a loose, swooping neckline and a deep red overcoat with a militaristic cut. The Amulet of Dibella she liked to wear took on the feel of martial medal. In the leather belt that tied the overcoat she carried her ebony dagger on her right side and her ebony sword on her left. Jenassa accompanied her in the full malachite armor she favored.
In the antechamber a Lieutenant sat at large, dark wood desk. The room was sparsely decorated with Imperial banners and rather dimly lit, but comfortably warm.
"If you're here to join Legion, you may take this staircase downstairs," the Lieutenant said without looking up from the papers on his desk. With the pen in his hand he indicated a staircase to his left. "There are some forms to fill out. If you cannot read or write, someone will help you. Legate Rikke addresses the new recruits before supper."
"I'm not here to join the legion," Fakhriya replied. "My name is Fakhriya, Thane of Whiterun. I have an urgent message to deliver to General Tullius."
At the mention of the name "Whiterun" the Lieutenant looked up. He looked Fakhriya over and got up from his desk.
"Please take a seat, if you will, Thane," the Lieutenant said as he pointed to a sitting area near a fireplace. "I will see if the General is receiving visitors."
The Lieutenant hurried past two soldiers who stood guard before a stone archway. The short hall terminated at a wooden door. The light from the next room spilled into the dark hall as the Lieutenant slipped through the door and then the hall went dark as the soldier closed the door behind him.
Fakhriya took a seat in front of the fire and wondered if the apples that sat in the bowl on the table beside her were fresh. Jenassa stood facing the two soldiers with her back to the Thane.
After a few moments the Lieutenant emerged from the door. He left it open and returned to his desk.
"The General will see you now, Thane," the Lieutenant said. He stood next to his chair and waited for Fakhriya to rise before he took his seat. "Your escort may wait here."
"Thank you," Fakhriya said. Jenassa and Fakhriya exchanged a brief glance. Jenassa sat down in a simple wooden chair in front of the Lieutenant's desk. Fakhriya continued down the hall.
The Situation Room featured a long table with a map of Skyrim spread upon it. Smaller tables had maps of individual holds. Red and blue flags marked troop positions. If the flags indicated units of similar size, then the Imperials and Stormcloaks appeared to be evenly matched in most places. It didn't take any military training to see how the Stormcloaks were putting pressure on Whiterun from the north and the east. Imperial legions were spread more thinly along the borders of the Pale and the Rift with several red flags positioned to the south and west of Whiterun.
"You and I would be sipping alto wine in the Palace of the Kings right now if Imperial City would give me the troops I asked for, Rikke," said General Tullius, an olive complexioned man with close cropped gray hair. Fakhriya guessed he hailed from the Nibenay Basin in eastern Cyrodiil. "But reinforcements aren't coming. Imperial City considers Ulfric's little escapade to be a side show. Cyrodiil won't compromise the border with the Aldmeri Dominion to play games in Skyrim. We are left to squash this uprising with whatever we have."
"You're the Thane from Whiterun?" Legate Rikke, a tall Nord woman, asked when she noticed Fakhriya standing at the edge of the long table.
"Yes," Fakhriya replied.
"I hope you are here to tell me that stubborn Jarl of yours has finally come to his senses," General Tullius said. "I can have Imperial troops in Whiterun tomorrow if he gives the word."
"I'm afraid I'm not here with a message from Jarl Balgruuf, General," Fakhriya said. "I've come with a summons from the Greybeards."
"The Greybeards?" Tullius asked. "What do those old hermits want with me?"
"The Greybeards have offered to host a peace conference at High Hrothgar," Fakhriya stated. "They would like to discuss a cease fire…"
"Why?" Tullius interjected. "There is nothing to discuss as long as that traitor, Ulfric, is in arms against his rightful Emperor. I will not attend any peace conference."
Tullius dismissed Fakhriya with a wave of his hand.
"General, please hear me out," Fakhriya pleaded. "The Greybeards have no interest in the war. The ceasefire would be so I can deal with the dragons."
"You're the one?" Legate Rikke asked. "The Dragonborn?"
"Yes," Fakhriya said. "I am in pursuit of the World Eater but I cannot track him alone. Jarl Balgruuf has agreed to help me capture a dragon in Dragonsreach, but only if Whiterun is protected from the risk of attack."
"You're not as blond or as tall as I would have expected a Nord hero to be," Tullius said dryly. "But I am not in Skyrim to be a bit player in a Nord passion play. I'm here to quell a rebellion and that is exactly what I intend to do. Dragons or no dragons."
"The dragons are getting to be a problem, sir," Rikke offered. "Perhaps this diversion would be useful to us in the long run."
"I'll be the judge of that, Rikke," Tullius countered. "The dragons may be a problem for us, but they are also doing an effective job of pinning down the Stormcloaks. Without control of Whiterun, we would be hard pressed to do as well ourselves."
"The Empire's presence at such a meeting may do a lot to influence Jarl Balgruuf," Fakhriya suggested, "and maybe Jarl Ulfric as well."
"At the very least, we shouldn't ignore the opportunity to remove the logistical problems created by dragons, General," Rikke pointed out.
Tullius walked to a window that looked out to the mountains. After a moment of consideration, he turned to Fakhriya.
"Very well," Tullius said. "I will attend the conference at High Hrothgar…for all the good it will do."
Spring snow flurries melted on contact with the cleared, cobbled streets of Windhelm. Fakhriya wore black pants and black leather boots with a white top that was barely visible under the white fur trimmed collar of her knee length blue overcoat. Her ebony weapons hung from a black leather belt with a large, silver buckle. She had trimmed her bangs into a more common, traditional style and had thin braids woven into her hair. The braids started behind her ears and were long enough that she could tie them together at the back of her head. The remainder of her shoulder length hair hung freely.
Fakhriya and Jenassa approached the entrance to the Palace of the Kings.
The guards at the entrance directed Fakhriya and Jenassa to a side door. Inside they were confronted by a Stormcloak seated at a desk who asked their names and the nature of their business at the palace.
"My name is Fakhriya, Thane of Whiterun," Fakhriya said. "I have an urgent message to deliver to the Jarl."
"What kind of message?" the Stormcloak asked.
"If it were a message for you, I'd have given it to you already," Fakhriya said. "I have traveled a long way to see the Jarl."
"The Dark Elf with you?" the Stormcloak asked as he sized up Jenassa.
"She is my escort," Fakhriya replied. The clerk asked Fakhriya to repeat her name. He wrote the information down and rose from his desk.
"Wait here," the Stormcloak said. He left Fakhriya and Jenassa standing in the reception area with the lone guard who stood his post.
After what seemed to be a very long time, the clerk returned.
"You may enter through here," the clerk said. "The Steward will announce you to the Jarl."
Fakhriya and Jenassa were met by another Stormcloak who escorted them the length of the long hall. The Palace of the Kings was at least as big as Dragonsreach. The traditional blue banners of Eastmarch, emblazoned with the likeness of a bear, were hung in even intervals on either side of the hall. Despite the braziers positioned in between the banners, the palace was chilly and damp. At the far end of the long table that dominated the center of the hall there were several more braziers and a riser. In the center of the riser was the Stone Throne.
Stendarr and Zenithar demand strength, but Mara and Dibella demand compassion.
Fakhriya's anxiety was increasing. The escort held out his arm to stop Fakhriya and Jenassa from proceeding. Fakhriya took a deep breath to calm herself. The Steward cleared his throat and announced the visitors to the Jarl.
"Jarl Ulfric, I present to you, Fay…Fah…Fake-her-ree-ah, Thane of Whiterun."
The Stormcloak lowered his arm to allow Fakhriya to pass. Jenassa stood where she was and looked around the immediate area. A stocky man wearing a helmet fashioned from a bear's head leaned against the wall at an archway that led into another room. Although his posture seemed casual, the man had his hand on the hilt of his weapon. Jenassa guessed the man was Ulfric's housecarl. The Carl did little to hide his disdain for the Dark Elf. Jenassa met his gaze and stared long enough to prove she wasn't intimidated, but not so long as to challenge him. Fakhriya approached the throne.
"Only the brave or the foolish approach a Jarl without a summons," said Ulfric, who sat slumped in his throne as if the proceedings were an annoyance to him.
Before Fakhriya could speak, Ulfric sat up and leaned forward.
"Wait," he said. "I know you. You were at Helgen with us. You were destined for the chopping block as I recall."
"That is correct, Jarl Ulfric," Fakhriya replied.
"It seems the Imperials have made criminals of us all," Ulfric said with a smirk. "Still, it's a long way from the block to the Cloud District."
"It is, Jarl Ulfric," Fakhriya replied. She couldn't help but return Ulfric's smirk. "Fortunes can change quickly."
Ulfric laughed.
"This is true," Ulfric replied. He hesitated a moment and then asked with a grin, "Fake-her-ree-ah?"
"Fakhriya," she corrected.
"Fakhriya," Ulfric repeated. "Thane of Whiterun."
Ulfric stated Fakhriya's title as if it were the most impressive thing he had considered that day.
"Tell me why fortune has chosen to cross our paths yet again. Is your Jarl finally ready to give me his support in my bid for High King?"
"I have not come on behalf of Jarl Balgruuf," Fakhriya said. "I have come with a message from the Greybeards."
"The Greybeards?" Ulfric scoffed. "It's about time they turned their gaze from the heavens to our bleeding homeland. What do they want?"
"To invite you to a peace conference at High Hrothgar to negotiate a cease fire so that I may deal with the dragon situation," Fakhriya stated.
"You're the Dragonborn?" Ulfric asked. This time he seemed sincerely impressed.
"I am, Jarl Ulfric," Fakhriya replied.
"I have the greatest respect for the Greybeards, of course," Ulfric said as he shot a hostile glance in the direction of the Housecarl. He returned his gaze to Fakhriya as he continued. "And the dragons are a growing plague, but the political situation is still delicate. Not all of the Jarls are fully committed to supporting me as High King. I cannot afford even the appearance of weakness. There is no way I can come to the table to talk peace."
"I ask you, please, Jarl Ulfric, to reconsider," Fakhriya pleaded. "General Tullius has already committed himself to conference. I cannot pursue Alduin without the security an agreement between you and him would provide."
"You are in pursuit of Alduin?" Ulfric smiled broadly. "If that's true…well, that changes the situation, doesn't it? Even Tullius may be forced to talk sense in the face of such a threat."
Ulfric got to his feet and looked down at Fakhriya. His cold, blue eyes seemed to drill right through her.
"Fakhriya, Thane of Whiterun, you may tell the Greybeards I will attend the conference," Ulfric stated. He looked over to his Carl and smiled.
"I will give Tullius one more chance to quit Skyrim with his tail between his legs."