Chapter 30

Staring into the fire, Ganir mulled over the argument he'd had with Thorelas. Once one was enthralled to the grasp and at the vampire's mercy, very little free will remained, but though he was bound by blood and dark magic to serve the Dark Elf, Thorelas' spirit was bitter, spiteful and unbroken. But not beyond redemption.

"What you've done to me…I will never forgive you." Thorelas had spat. "I will rip your heart out!"

"Don't act like you didn't have this coming." Ganir growled with his arms crossed over his chest. "Now, before we get down to business, where are Cirilonde's parents?"

Derisive laughter escaped the High Elf before he visibly flinched and his whole body tensed up. "Filthy…ARGH!" he spat on the ground at Ganir's feet. "Do you think that if I were to tell you, that you would find them? Don't think me some heartless wretch, ashborn. They are safe and well thanks to me."

"Then tell me…" As defiant as he had been, Thorelas filled with utter fear and dread when the vampire lift him by the throat. "…Where. Are. They? Don't you think they deserve to know their daughter is dead because of you?"

Thorelas' eyes glazed over but hatred still burned deep within. "'twas not my doing, but very well, if this is what you will, I will find them for you." Thorelas' bargain was a bold one. "After that…do with me what you will."


Though neither of the three elves could see the entrance of High Hrothgar, their heads turned in the general direction of the doorway that led to the Entry Hall when they heard the doors open and close.

"Jarl Balgruuf, is it not?" they heard Arngeir ask. "Welcome to High Hrothgar. I am Master Arngeir."

"Yes, it is an honor to meet you, Master Greybeard. I thank you for welcoming me into your monastery," Balgruuf replied.

All of them had known beforehand, but now that the actual moment was drawing near, the elves grew all too aware that far more was at stake with these negotiations than gaining permission to trap a dragon in Whiterun's palace.

Ancano laid his hand on Ondolemar's shoulder when he made to follow Ganir and the High Elf looked up at the Arch-Mage. "I require you to stay out of sight and listen in on the meeting. Just in case." Ancano said to him. The sudden change of heart was not entirely unexpected, but still, Ondolemar wasn't too pleased with it.

"I refuse to hide any longer." Ondolemar argued.

"This has nothing to do with being a coward," Ancano replied. "You know-,"

The doors opened again and Ancano furrowed his brow. There was no way either the Imperial or Stormcloak delegation would've made their way here already.

"Who are you? What is the meaning of this?" Arngeir's inquiry was accompanied by a groan from Ganir.

"Just what do you think you're-,"

"So, Arngeir, is it?" Ancano and Ondolemar exchanged startled glances when they both heard the all too familiar voice and they made their way to the entry hall where indeed, entirely unexpected but still, they weren't that surprised all the same, that Delphine and Esbern stood there. "You know why we're here. Are you going to let us in or not?"

"You were not invited here," Arngeir's calm demeanour was a silence before the storm. "You are not welcome here!"

"We have as much right to be at this council as all of you, especially if even they are here." Delphine pointed a finger at Ondolemar and Ancano. "More, actually, since we were the ones that put the Dragonborn on this path."

Ancano's eyes shot towards Ganir, who looked about ready to Shout both the Blades off the mountain, but the both of them also knew that Delphine especially would come climbing back, even more determined than before. "Were you now?" Arngeir crossed his arms over his chest to hide how he was shaking with rage. "The hubris of the Blades truly knows no bounds."

"If it were up to you, the Dragonborn would sit-!"

"Delphine!" Esbern pulled Delphine back by her arm with surprising strength. "We are not here to rehearse old grudges." He continued to chastise her. "The matter at hand is urgent. Alduin must be stopped!" He then looked at Ganir and Arngeir. "You wouldn't have called for this council if you didn't agree. Please, Master Greybeard, allow our presence. We know a great deal about the situation and the threat that Alduin poses to us all. We are here to ensure that this council succeeds."

Arngeir visibly fought an inner struggle. These Blades stood against all he represented with the Way of the Voice. But if they truly were here to help and could help…Not that he had an actual say in anything at this point anymore, which he genuinely wanted to begrudge the Dragonborn, but that was their way. He heaved a deep sigh. "Very well, unless the Dragonborn objects, you may enter."

"Trust me, I thought I was rid of them." Ganir growled. "So I hope for your sake, you're not making matters worse simply by being here. Mark my words, I will throw you off this mountain myself if I have too."

"No, we are truly here to help, Dragonborn. Once we heard what you were planning, we had to get here. We are oath bound to serve." Esbern said. "And this dragon-trapping scheme. How exactly do you intend to pull this off?"

Balgruuf and Irileth had witnessed this most odd exchange with mixed feelings, but the old man's question was certainly on point. "You didn't miss out on that detail, I hope, Dragonborn?" Balgruuf asked.

"Of course I haven't." Ganir replied. "I have but to Shout the name of one of his allies and they will come seeking me out."

"So that's why we couldn't find your notes, Esbern. You didn't lose them…" Delphine had yet to determine whether she was cross with the Dark Elf or impressed. "So, tell me, what are these-,"

"I needn't tell you a damn thing." Ganir snapped in a sharp tone. " Which reminds me…" He then extended his hand. "Your weapons. Here. Now."

"Surely you can't be serious…!" But Esbern unclasped Delphine's blade from her belt before she could even argue it with the Dragonborn and handed Ganir his dagger to him.

"We trust your judgement, Dragonborn," the old Nord said, "and we await your orders."

Annoyed, the Dark Elf rolled his eyes. "Just get to the Council Chambers and wait for the delegations there."

"We shall discuss your plans later, Dragonborn." Balgruuf said, laying a hand on the Dark Elf's shoulder. "I am sure you have much to think about before their arrival."

He genuinely did not envy the Dark Elf's position even though his was similar; trapped between two angry bears who were ready to rip him apart if he so much as made a wrong move or displeased one of them too much. So much depended on these negotiations.

"Thank you, Jarl Balgruuf. I'm sure the wait shouldn't be much longer."

Once the Jarl and his Housecarl had surrendered their weapons as well, they made their way to the Council Chambers as well. Ganir leaned against the wall and rubbed his temples with the tips of his fingers. "Ondolemar, do me a favour, keep an eye on them. I don't trust them for a minute to not sneak off or cause some trouble one way or another," Ancano said.

The order was sudden and unexpected but Ondolemar shared the sentiment. With the swift incantation of an invisibility spell, he disappeared. "Whatever witty or snide remarks you have, Ancano. Please, just not now."

"You wound me." Came Ancano's sarcastic reply. "I see no reason for you to worry. We have gotten this far…"

Ganir looked up, unable to contain his disbelief or suppress the laugh that escaped him. "Are you honestly attempting to be supportive right now?"

"And not doing all too terrible, it seems." He had never seen Ancano smile. If Ciri could see you right now…

"Thank you for everything, Ancano." Ganir said. "Without you or Ondolemar, we wouldn't have gotten this far."

There was an odd flicker in the Altmer's eyes and he nodded. "You ought to get ready. They will be here soon." Ganir nodded back at Ancano and the Dark Elf walked up the steps to the Monastery's Inner Courtyard, where Arngeir had gone after taking the Blades, Balgruuf and Irileth to the Council Chambers.

It would be hours before anyone else arrived.


Nearly a year ago, the Emperor had assigned Tullius as Military Governor of Skyrim to quell the civil uprising. In Tullius' eyes the petty rebellion was fuelled only by Ulfric's hunger for power, but it didn't take him long to learn that the Nords' political structure and agendas were far more complex and divided than he'd initially thought. And all of it, including this war, was a result of influence and subtle manipulations administered by the female High Elf who had accompanied them on this journey up this damned, forlorn mountain.

Elenwen lacked neither for cunning or ambition and Tullius grudgingly had to admit that he had met his match. She was no mere, simple-minded politician but a calculated, brilliant diplomat and strategist. He was well-aware that the Thalmor and Aldmeri Dominion benefitted from the political strife in Skyrim to weaken the Empire even more. All the more reason why he questioned her interest in attending this 'peace council'.

Had he not laid eyes on the black dragon himself back in Helgen, Tullius would never have believed any of these prophetic claims of dragons returning. But with many questions left unanswered in regards to the recent chain of events he had answered the call to attend this peace council.

"Do you think they will come?" Elisif did her title of 'the Fair' justice. She was a beauty of a mere twenty-four years with a fair, pale complexion, red hair and hazel-coloured eyes…and already a widow. Jarl Torygg had been defeated in 'honourable combat according to the old ways' by Ulfric who had 'shouted him apart'. The young Elisif was now left to rule a warring nation and she had barely had the chance to mourn the loss of her husband, but she was brave and strong…and had General Tullius, whom she admired and respected.

Holding her fur coat tight, she peered in the distance from the mountains, the harsh wind brushing past her. Skyrim was so beautiful…

"Ulfric would lose face if he didn't show," Rikke answered. She was a fierce, Nord woman in her mid-thirties, clad in leather and steel, Imperial armor. Her face was set in a harsh, determined expression and her eyes were as piercing blue as Skyrim's sky. She glanced over to the High Elf female, barely able to suppress a smirk as the she-elf was trying her best to hide that the cold was actually getting to her. "Are you ready to continue as well, Lady Elenwen? We'd best not keep the Greybeards waiting."

"Then why don't you lead the way?" Elenwen's eyes shot fire. If only she could get away with causing an avalanche that could knock the damned Nord off the mountain… "I'm sure you are far more familiar with these primitive regions than one such as myself."

Ploughing she-elf…Rikke bit her tongue when Tullius shot her a warning glare and she led the way up to the monastery where a monk stood waiting for them. At his side stood a large chest and upon looking in after he pointed at it, Tullius and Rikke immediately recognized Galmar's Warhammer, Ulfric's battle-axes and there was also another battle-axe.

As reluctant as they both were, Tullius and Rikke unsheathed their swords and daggers and placed them in the chest. "You too, Milady…" Tullius said to Elisif, who grudgingly removed a small dagger she had hidden in the sleeve of her gown under her fur coat and threw it into the chest. The Greybeard's keen grey eyes then lingered on Elenwen and then nodded. Without a word still, he turned and led the way inside after motioning for them to follow.

By Talos…what a dreary place…Was the first thing that came to Tullius' mind once inside until he heard an all too familiar voice that grabbed all of their attention.

"Now it is but waiting for the Imperial dogs to show their face, if the Thalmor even permit them." Ulfric's haughty sneer came from a room in the far back to the right. Tullius and Rikke exchanged knowing glances, both thinking the same.

Tullius then glanced over to Elisif, who had swallowed and began to tremble, but not from the cold. "Don't worry. We're here." He assured her and she nodded, grateful. To see the man who killed the man you loved…

He turned his head to wonder why Elenwen had not made some veiled, subtle but rude remark about the monastery or the monks. Though she had recovered remarkably fast and hid it well, Tullius had caught the glimpse of pure shock on her face and how she had visibly paled. Following her gaze, he looked over at the High Elf in the company of one of the monks.

High Elves weren't that rare of a sight in Skyrim with the Thalmor crawling all over the place like rats, but this Altmer was definitely not a Thalmor. He was clad in triangular-styled fur and velvet robes with golden trimmings. When he met Elenwen's gaze, Tullius was certain not even the howling winds from outside cut through the tension that hung in the air and Tullius wondered what the connection between the two was.

The Greybeard's eyes shot from the elf at his side, to the First Emissary and then cleared his throat. "Arch-Mage? Could you be so kind to guide our guests to the Council Chambers while I retrieve the Dragonborn?"

The Arch-Mage's glare was intense as though he hoped Elenwen would catch flame any moment, lest he make sure she would, but when the monk asked him a question, he turned his head towards the monk and bowed his head. "But of course, Master Arngeir…"

The monk bowed his head in return and walked up the steps and left through a door which seemed to lead to the inner courtyard of the monastery and a cold gust of wind brushed inside, chilling them to the bone for a few seconds until the door closed. When the Arch-Mage stepped forward, there was a flicker in Elenwen's eyes and Tullius had no idea what was going through her mind, but when the Arch-Mage and she shook hands, and her gaze fell down to his hand, she almost jerked it back as if burned.

The Arch-Mage held on, however, his eyes not leaving hers, which were unable to look away from the ring on his gloved finger. Tullius hadn't seen any ring like it himself, but immediately recognized that the golden, gemmed signet ring bore the Eagle of the Dominion with some inscriptions he could not read or recognize. What was it about this ring that had Elenwen react so suddenly, try as she might to conceal it? Was this Arch-Mage secretly some high-ranking Thalmor after all? But surely not possible, given the tension between the two…So what was going on?

"Lady Elenwen, we meet again," the Arch-Mage's voice was smooth as silk and betrayed nothing of the contempt he felt towards her that was quite visible in his eyes. "I take it you had no issues leaving the comforts of your solar at the embassy?"

"But of course not, my dearest Ancano. It is so good to see you." Her voice dripped with sweet venom and she looked ready to crush the Arch-Mage's hand were she able. "I take affairs are well in order at your College in Winterhold?"

"Quite well," Ancano replied. "The College was most delighted to receive the unexpected guests you sent our way from the Dominion. I'm sure even General Tullius heard, given their renown…"

Tullius frowned and he shot Elenwen a questioning look. Interesting…I wasn't informed…

It was only Ancano who could tell, however, that Elenwen's mind was reeling for something to do or say to control the damage. If anyone knew she had neglected any of her duties it would be beyond scandalous! And heads would roll for sure, and not just hers!

"But I am sure the Lady Elenwen will be more than glad to inform you once we have come to a truce, which I believe is a priority now…for the sake of Skyrim…" The Arch-Mage's eyes did not leave Elenwen's, whose cheeks held a rosy glow as she fumed in silence. "But indeed, Elenwen, it is so good to see you."

The Arch-Mage stepped back so Elenwen could pass and he then shook hands with Rikke, Tullius and Elisif, who seemed rather taken by the subtle, silver scars that lined the handsome Altmer's face. "It is a pleasure to meet you, and I'm glad to see that the College of Winterhold has taken an interest in the political affairs that trouble Skyrim," Elisif said to him.

"Certain circumstances cannot be ignored if they affect even us," Ancano replied with little regard for the young woman's praise. She was but a mere child in his eyes, manipulated by a vile serpent and those who believed in a crumbling Empire.

It's all in your hands now, Ganir…Ancano thought and he wished Cirilonde had been here, even if he was unsure of what she could have done, it sure as hell would've soothed his mind a lot more. Elenwen would be trouble.

"Please, follow me. The Dragonborn should join us shortly," Ancano said and he gestured for them to follow him to the Council Chambers which were as sombre as the rest of the monastery, lit only by the fire in the pit at the centre of the oval, stone table.

There was a seat at each head of the table, which were both empty. On the left, sat an elderly man and Breton female. Next to them, sat Ulfric's most trusted lieutenant, Ralof of Riverwood and next to him, sat Ulfric. Galmar Stonefist's eyes narrowed at Rikke, who glared daggers back at him as they made their way into the room.
"Jarl Balgruuf, it is good to see you, though I wish the circumstances were less dire." Elisif was sweet and considerate as ever, paying no heed to the Stormcloaks whatsoever after she shot Ulfric a deadly, hateful glare.

"As do I, Jarl Elisif," Balgruuf said. "Please, have a seat."

The chairs were made of stone and leather, providing very little comfort but it would have to do and the Imperial delegation took their respective seats across from the Stormcloaks. A toxic tension hung in the air while the Arch-Mage made his way to the far end of the room and remained standing near the seat no doubt reserved for the Dragonborn.

But the tense bubble that had lingered was burst to bits by Ulfric when he laid eyes on Elenwen. "You have some nerve to bring that Thalmor bitch here, Tullius." Ulfric pulled his lip up in a snarl and it had not only been the three Stormcloaks who instinctively reached for their absent weapons, but also the old man and woman.

Just who are these people? Tullius wondered.

"Or could you not break away from your elven mistress' leash?" Ulfric continued with a sneer. "Do you realize you are insulting us by bringing her to this negotiation? Your chief Talos-hunter?"

Rikke suppressed the urge to groan. "That didn't take long…" she muttered under her breath.

"Hear! Hear!" Galmar bellowed in support of his Jarl's statement. "This is a truce for the people of Skyrim. That knife-ear has no place in being here."

As much as he loathed Ulfric's blatant, arrogant ways and philosophies, he had to admit that the Jarl of Windhelm was fearless to call someone as dangerous and powerful as Elenwen out.

Elenwen's eyes shot to Ancano, who stood near the head of the table where the Dragonborn would soon be seated. I'll get you yet…but don't you dare think for a moment you control me like I control these human inbreds… "I have every right to be present at these negotiations to ensure that the terms of the White-Gold Concordat are honoured," she replied to Ulfric.

"She's part of the Imperial delegation. You can't dictate who I bring to this council, Ulfric," Tullius added in a sharp tone. As much as he'd rather not have her present, he had to be careful with what he said. But Elenwen knew better and she would have to weave her web more intricately to keep the General on her leash. Even for a human, he was far more dangerous than he let on.

"You know damn well that you're deliberately provoking me by bringing that Thalmor scum here, Tullius." Ulfric hissed. "She has no place in these negotiations. Plough the White-Gold Concordat and the Dominion."

A statement vindictive and destructive enough to elicit a war…had Elenwen not been under strict orders. "Ulfric, why so hostile? After all, it's not the Thalmor who burn down your farms and-,"

"Ah, Master Arngeir, Ganir, glad you could join us." Ancano's statement made all the heads turn to the room's entrance. Arngeir had heard but a glimpse of the conversation but he was most thankful that their arrival had provided enough distraction and he quietly sat down. Or rather, it was Ganir, who had.

Tullius' jaw clenched instinctively to keep it from dropping as he never forgot a face and this went against all his expectations and suspicions of what this 'Dragonborn' looked like in his mind. This was the Dark Elf from Helgen!

"Are we ready to begin, Master Arngeir? Ganir?" Ancano then asked, quite content with Elenwen's reaction to seeing Ganir. Her expression was one between outrage and disbelief even though the intelligence she had received indicated that this 'Dragonborn' was a Dark Elf, she never would've anticipated for it to be the same who left a trail of death and destruction at the Embassy.

"I am. Dreadfully sorry to keep you waiting." He gave Elenwen a particular look as if daring her to say or do something. "But now that we're all here, I think we're ready to begin the negotiations."

"But we are not ready," Ulfric said to Ganir, who had barely taken his seat at the other end of the table between Rikke and Galmar. "The Thalmor have no place here. She," he pointed an accusing finger at Elenwen, "-,needs to leave."

"Her presence is required to validate the terms of the truce, should we reach one, Ulfric." Tullius looked right and ready about to rip Ulfric's head off. If the dolt was unable to see the bigger picture, why was he even here?

"I doubt her presence is much of a disruption," Ancano looked rather annoyed and crossed his arms over his chest. "After all, the Lady Elenwen but functions as a mere observer at this point, does she not?"

Had looks been able to kill, the Arch-Mage would have been dead and buried by now, but he seemed to take delight in the First Emissary's predicament. Just what kind of influence did this man have over someone as powerful as her that she conceded? "The Arch-Mage is correct as after all, the Dominion wouldn't dare think of interfering with your civil war," Elenwen held her head high. "We have but the best intentions for the Empire."

"Then I assume it is settled?" Ancano raised a brow at Ulfric, who nodded and sat down. While still not entirely content with Elenwen's presence, it would have to do. "Can we finally begin these negotiations then?" Though Tullius and Ulfric looked about ready to rip each other's heads off, they both nodded.

"Before we begin, I have something to say first…" Ulfric said, staring Tullius down.

"Here we go…" Rikke heaved another, deep and annoyed sigh.

"The only reason I agreed to attend this council was to deal with the dragon menace," Ulfric continued and ignored Rikke's remark. "There is nothing else to talk about, unless the Empire is finally ready to renounce its unjust claim to rule over the free people of Skyrim."

Rikke took a sharp breath and hissed in pain when Tullius kicked her against the shins under the table when he saw she was about to make another remark. Grudgingly, she grumbled. "I knew he wouldn't be able to resist…"

"-,We're here to arrange a temporary truce to allow the Dragonborn to deal with the dragons. Nothing more. I consider even talking to the Empire a generous gesture."

Are you done making your speeches, Ulfric?" A small vein near Tullius' temple began to throb with agitation. He ought to teach this arrogant whelp a lesson… "I'd like to get down to business."

The Jarl of Windhelm let out a grudging growl that his speech had not affected the Imperial General as he had hoped. "Yes, very well then. Let's get this over with."

"Now that we are ready to proceed..." Arngeir's patience had to be beyond golden if he tolerated these two aggressive men in a place of peace such as High Hrothgar. "Jarl Ulfric. General Tullius…" Arngeir looked at all the faces, new and familiar to him as he stood up. "This council is unprecedented. We are gathered here at the Dragonborn's request. I ask that you all respect the spirit of High Hrothgar, and do your best to begin the process of achieving a lasting peace in Skyrim. Who would like to open the negotiations?"

"Yes…let's get down to it then." Ulfric's demand then came loud and clear without shame, "We want control of Markarth. That's our price for agreeing to a truce."

Elisif's temper flared. "You dare to insult the Greybeards by using this council to advance your own position, Ulfric? Is that why you're really here?"

"Jarl Elisif, I will handle this," Tullius tried to calm the young woman down, but she wouldn't have any of it.

"General, this is outrageous!" she exclaimed. "You can't be taking this demand seriously! I thought we were here to discuss a truce!"

"Elisif!" Raising his voice immediately silenced the young Jarl. "I said 'I'll handle it'." He emphasized, glaring at her. So young and inexperienced… "Ulfric, you can't seriously expect us to give up Markarth at the negotiating table just because you're unable to take it in battle…"

The snide remark was smoothed over by Arngeir, "I'm sure that Jarl Ulfric doesn't expect something for nothing…"

"Yes, that would be entirely out of character," Rikke muttered under her breath again, shaking her head.

"Unless of course, the Empire received something in return…" Ancano offered.

"Wait. General, surely you don't intend to just hand over Markarth to that…that traitor!" Elisif exclaimed once more, her eyes searching his.

Nothing but an ill-tempered child, Ancano thought with a scoff. No wonder the Empire was so easily overrun. And when exchanging glances with Elenwen, she clearly shared the sentiment. Had it not been for Tullius, though, this conflict would have escalated badly.

But the outrage wasn't just Elisif's, because Balgruuf too voiced his disbelief. "This is how the Empire would repay us for our loyalty and just sell us out to the highest bidder?"

"Enough!" The tankards and bottles that stood on the table shook under the impact of Tullius' fist. Though he was a weathered war-veteran and general in his fifties, he was still strong as a bear and his voice was not one to be ignored. "First," Tullius stood up, leaning on the table as he glared Ulfric down again, "Let's be clear. This council wasn't my idea. Personally, I think it's a waste of time. You are a traitor to the Empire and deserve a traitor's death, but…I at least will negotiate in good faith…"

His eyes did not leave Ulfric's after they shot towards Elenwen and he prayed the damn fool would take the hint. He then turned his head towards the Dark Elf, who, quite frankly, had unnerved him from the moment they had met. The Dark Elf had single-handedly taken out four, Thalmor battle-mages without suffering any injuries and though he had been sentenced to death, the Dark Elf had appeared fearless. "Since we're all here at your request, 'Dragonborn', I'd like to hear what you think Markarth is worth."

Ganir swore inwardly. Though he had learned plenty about the representatives on both sides from first-hand experience or from what Ondolemar and Ancano knew, he hadn't expected Tullius to be this direct. But, again, without Ondolemar and Ancano's help, he wouldn't have been as prepared for this question. So you want Markarth, Ulfric? Very well then… "What about Riften?" Ganir suggested.

Tullius seemed pleasantly surprised by the suggestion as it seemed a fair trade that would not only secure the Empire's communications in Skyrim with Cyrodiil, but would also threaten Ulfric's southern flank… "You heard the Dragonborn, Ulfric. We've made you a fair offer. Are you serious about these talks, or are you here just to posture?"

"You insult me by inviting me here in the good faith to negotiate and expect me to surrender what would threaten my capital, Dragonborn? I should've known better…" Ulfric's eyes shot from Ancano to Elenwen and then to Tullius. "As for you, General, I see now that Galmar was right. Talking to the Empire is just as useless as ever. If you think you can hold Markarth, you're as deluded as your Emperor when he signed away our freedom to the Thalmor!" Now it was his turn to ram down his fist on the table. "Skyrim will NEVER again bow to your false Empire!" Ulfric then took a sharp breath as he stood straight. This had better work…Dragonborn. "Galmar. Ralof. Let us go. This truly was a waste of my time."

"You always were a fool, Ulfric. You're no better at diplomacy than you are on the battlefield," Tullius taunted, sharing the sentiment in regards to the negotiations and how he wished now he had something at his disposal to use as a weapon.

And I didn't even have to do a thing…Elenwen's smugness didn't last long, however, because Ancano didn't look as distraught as she would've expected him to be. But just when the Arch-Mage made to intervene and 'save the negotiations', it was Esbern who got up and stood in the way of the three Stormcloaks who could easily crush him. "Stop it!" he shouted with surprising strength to his voice. "Are you so blind to our danger that you can't see past your petty disagreements?"

As old and frail as he was, Esbern defiantly glared up at Galmar and Ulfric. "Here you sit, arguing about nothing while the fate of the land hangs in the balance!"

"Delphine," Ulfric growled. "If this old fool is with you, I suggest you remind him whom he speaks too and that he watch his tongue…"

"He is with me." Delphine protectively stood in front of Esbern. "And I advise that the both of you listen to what he has to say, before you do anything rash you might regret…"

Ganir genuinely wondered how Ulfric and Delphine knew one another as she hadn't told him, but she clearly had Ulfric's respect as he signalled for his men to back down. But the most noticeable was how Elenwen's lips thinned into a line of silent rage once she realized who this old man and woman were; the last of the Blades! These were the damned culprits … Her eyes shot from Ancano to Ganir again and her blood began to boil, though her rage stemmed mostly from her inability to do anything about it…just yet.

"Don't you understand?" Esbern cleared his throat and was suddenly very aware of all the eyes on him. Finally. Someone would listen to him. After all these years of his warnings going unheard and unheeded…. "Doesn't any one of you understand what the return of the dragons means? Alduin has returned! The World-Eater! Even now, he devours the souls of your fallen comrades! He grows more powerful with every soldier slain in your pointless war; all of the fallen prey to his hunger in Sovngarde!" Esbern took a moment to catch his breath. "Can you not put aside your hatred for even one moment in the face of this mortal danger?"

"A very pretty speech, but what does it have to do with…"

"Shut up." Ulfric spat at Elenwen and then looked at Arngeir, who had aged so much since he had left High Hrothgar. "He is right about Alduin, is he not, Master Arngeir?" When the old monk nodded, he turned to Tullius who had caught the very subtle hint of what was really happening and his eyes shot from Ancano to the Dark Elf. Clever…Very clever…Tullius thought. "We have both as much to lose here, General. Remember that."

Ganir heaved a sigh of relief. Though it had not gone exactly as planned, Esbern's unexpected outburst had done the trick. "Now, back to the matter at hand…" Ulfric continued. "Don't hand me a mug of sheep's piss and call it mead. These terms are still not acceptable."

Exasperated and not sure whether to be glad or not that Ulfric had stayed for these negotiations, Tullius heaved an agitated sigh. "I'm sure you have something in mind."

"Yer damn right we do." Galmar said.

"You will surrender Falkreath to us. Siddgeir steps down, and Dengeir of Stuhn resumes the Jarlship." Ulfric's demand was blatant and out of the blue, but not entirely unexpected, judging by the expressions of Tullius, Elisif and Rikke.

"Where do these demands stop, Ulfric? Do you expect me to surrender all of Skyrim?!" Tullius exclaimed.

Ulfric's eyes shot towards Ganir. In his eyes, the Dark Elf had been as ignorant and poor of a diplomat as he had expected the Dark Elf to be. What else could be expected of an elf? "It seems I have no choice but to let the Dragonborn decide. Although I'm starting to doubt your…fairness."

Ganir swore inwardly but he had known that this was to be expected. He was reluctant, though, "It would seem fair, given the vast expanse the Rift covers."

Galmar's laugh echoed through the monastery. "Spoken like a true son of Skyrim," Ulfric smirked, quite smug over the massive victory he obtained should this be successful. Falkreath and the Reach… "I suppose that's the fairest deal we'll get…" He looked at Tullius, who was clearly biting his tongue, but if it meant a truce, then the Empire could focus more on rebuilding and strengthening its armies.

"It seems we may have an agreement, then, Jarl Ulfric? General Tullius?" Arngeir asked, eager to end this while it was headed the right way. "These are the terms currently on the table. Markarth will be handed over to Ulfric's forces. Jarl Igmund will step down, and Thongvor Silver-blood will become the Jarl of Markarth. The Stormcloaks will withdraw from the Rift, allowing Imperial troops unhindered access."

Ancano struggled to not look towards an empty corner of the room. Had Ondolemar still been in Markarth…The Silver-Blood family had it in for the Thalmor even more than the Blades.

"-,Jarl Laila Law-Giver will step down, and Maven Black-Briar will become the Jarl of Riften."

Well, at least now Riften will live up to its poor reputation with an equally foul ruler…Ancano thought wryly. But the terms had not been agreed upon just yet.

"-,Falkreath will be turned over to Ulfric, and Dengeir of Stuhn will return as Jarl. Do you both agree to these terms?"

"The sons of Skyrim will live up to their agreements as long as the Imperials hold to theirs…" Ulfric's cold, blue eyes locked with Tullius' dark-brown ones, almost daring him. "What about you, Elisif? Are these terms to your liking? Speak up. I'm sure General Tullius is waiting to do your bidding."

"I have no words for that murderer," Elisif hissed, turning her gaze towards Tullius. "General, you've proven yourself a good friend to Skyrim. I continue to trust that you will do your utmost to safeguard our interests."

He had to refrain from smiling but it was why he was so fond of the young Jarl. Though she was inexperienced and clueless, she had a heart of gold. "Thank you, Jarl Elisif. I appreciate your loyalty." He then looked back at Ulfric. "The Empire can live with these terms, yes. For a temporary truce, until the dragon menace is dealt with. After that, Ulfric…there will be a reckoning. Count on it."

"That is, if the truce can be validated not to violate the terms of the White-Gold Concordat," Elenwen said. "After all, General Tullius, there is a vast amount of territory you are-,"

"-,surrendering in the benefit of a temporary truce so the Dragonborn and his associates can handle the dragon menace unhindered," Tullius glared the First Emissary down. "However, do tell me this, Dragonborn. How exactly do you plan to trap a dragon in the palace of a city primarily made out of wood?"


xxxx


I am so dreadfully sorry to keep any of you waiting, but I wanted to do this chapter right and I hope I've lived up to the expectations for a Season Unending; a quest that was of such a massive impact, but wasn't very palpable to me in the game as I hoped it would be. I mean, you're the 'criminal' that escaped Helgen, so I would've expected a more severe reaction from Tullius beyond what he says in Castle Dour, not to mention that the last of the Blades are so blatantly present in Elenwen's face like a 'fuck you, na na na na, what you gonna do about it, Thalmor bitch?" and of course, you are there as well, the person who caused quite the mess in her Embassy!

Personally, I think she was seething with silent fury over the whole situation spiralling out of her control, so I wanted to spice that up for her and give her more credit because she -is- an amazing character. And of course, I couldn't deny Ancano the petty victory of rubbing salt into her wounds .

Either way, I genuinely hope this late installment is to your liking. Please let me know. I always appreciate receiving comments so I know whether I'm doing all right or not and what people thought about it. Thank you again very much for taking your time to read yet another chapter. I'll try to update faster next time!

Happy holidays and a happy new year!

(Also. Sod the editor. It ate the cursive so I only edited part of it back in place =/)