A/N: So I'm updating this more than I thought I would! I'd like to take the time to warn you guys right now that it's going to veer more towards a love triangle between Gaella, Ulfric, and a certain other mystery man. When it comes down to the whole 'which one' choice...I'll either have people comment and vote in the comments, or I'll just make two chapters, one with each ending. :) I'll decide when I get there.

Thanks for all the views and kind reviews! :)

Beautiful is empty...
Beautiful is free...
Beautiful loves no one...
Beautiful stripped me .

"Beautiful" - Creed

Damn Ulfric. Damn this city. Damn the dragons, damn my father, damn this entire world.

But most of all...damn this bed!

She had been tossing and turning in that bed the entire night. It might have been her anxiety that was keeping her up, but more than likely it was the fact that, after years of sleeping on rough cots, floors, and the ground itself, she could not get used to a bed like this. It was in a palace, so of course the thing was overstuffed and soft, with perfumed and stupidly intricate bed sheets and only the finest and thickest furs and...

It was, overall, far too much like home.

Damn you, Ulfric. Damn you.

Maybe she should have chosen the prison after all. She'd slept in a prison before. And she slept like a baby.

She groaned and turned over on her stomach, burying her head under a pillow. True to his word, Ulfric had stationed a guard outside her door. Just to be a pompous ass, no doubt. She'd tell him as such in the morning. However, that meant that she was stuck in here unless she felt like being escorted all the way to wherever the prison happened to be with everyone staring at her like a criminal.

She felt like a teenager, moody and angry at everything and nothing at once.

Out of frustration, she finally turned over and sat up, and knocked one of the numerous pillows to the floor by accident.

Then, something occurred to her.

"DUH," She said out loud. "Am I stupid now, too? Really? Good job, Luce. Great freaking job."

She realized that maybe she was both stupid and insane, because now she was talking to herself.

….Clearly this was Ulfric's fault too. He was making her angry, sad, annoyed, hurt, crazy, and stupid. Well, at least he had talent.

With that last grumpy thought, she spread out some furs on the floor with the pillow, laid down, and was instantly asleep.

Galmar knew there was something wrong with Ulfric the minute he walked into the room.

"What now?" Galmar asked, dreading the worst. Perhaps Solitude had managed to intercept one of their couriers and therefore gain access to intelligence...

"...What do you mean?" Ulfric asked, walking over to survey the map of Skyrim. He normally would smile at how many capitals they'd managed to take; how the blue was slowly crowding out what used to be a sea of red. The ground they had been able to cover recently had been exceptional. They had been making headway before Fire-Hammer, but having the mage in their ranks had unexpectedly tipped the scales much more in their favor. The power of the dragonborn, he supposed.

Damn it, girl, he grumbled internally, what the hell are you thinking?

"Ulfric, I know trouble when I see it on your face."

"It's nothing to be concerned about, Galmar."

Galmar trusted his king. He knew that if Ulfric told him not to worry about it, he shouldn't. So he didn't. "If it doesn't affect our battle, then I won't insist on knowing. You know I'll give you advice on whatever you want."

Ulfric rubbed his face. "...I think this is probably beyond you, Galmar."

"Feh..."

"...It is about Fire-Hammer."

"I'd been meaning to ask you why you wanted to see her."

Ulfric sighed, and placed his hands on the strategy table, leaning forward. "I wanted to understand her a bit better."

"Good luck with that," Galmar said sarcastically. "I can already tell where it went."

"She didn't tell me a single thing," Ulfric continued anyway, "In fact, never in my life have I ever failed so miserably in a task. In less than half an hour, I have managed to lose her loyalty, her trust, her respect...and she even attempted to resign from her rank."

"You can't be serious," Galmar said, his eyes widening. "...We can't lose her. She's a brilliant soldier. Just the word of the Dragonborn being in the Stormcloaks strikes fear into the heart of the Imperial dogs. And it doesn't work that way...you can't just resign. Where is she? I would have words with her..." And by words, he meant that he would beat the sense back into her, just like he would with any other captain that behaved this way.

"In the guest room. I grabbed her before she left, and told her she had two choices. Sleep in the guest room, or sleep in prison. I gave her permission to leave in the morning if she still wished it."

"Ulfric, you can't let her leave."

"I can't make her stay."

"Sure you can, you are Ulfric Stormcloak!"

"And what respect would I be worthy of, if I had to force people to fight for me? How would that look for our cause?"

"If she is not with us, she is against us!"

"She is not against us, Galmar. She is against me."

"...What the hell happened? What did you do?"

"I offered her a place as my queen, once the war was over."

Galmar took a second to absorb the information, lifting a bottle of mead to his lips. Then, he said, "Of course you did. So what?" He took a drink.

"She said no."

Galmar spit the mead out, unfortunately all over the map. "What?"

"So therein you see the problem..."

"What in the name of the Gods," He yelled, "could ever possess a woman to say no to such a high honor, and a man such as you?"

Ulfric sighed again, and rubbed his neck. "I am old, Galmar," He said tiredly. "I am old enough to be her father. Perhaps that is it."

"Bullshit," said Galmar, "Women are supposed to like older men."

"I easily have 20 years on her."

"That can't be it. And still? Even so? The position of High Queen? Turned down because you just happen to be a few years older than her? I'll kill her. I'll kill her with my own hands."

"You will not lay a finger upon her," Ulfric said plainly.

"Gods, Ulfric. I knew that woman was trouble the minute she spoke to you. She has no reverence, no respect. She is a weak little thing."

"She is who she is, Galmar. But she is anything but weak. She is the first woman I could ever see ruling by my side. You were not there at Helgen to see how she behaved."

"And how was that?"

"Do you remember that I told you that the Empire murdered a horse thief?"

"Yes?"

"I don't even remember his name," Ulfric said honestly. "Lu-...Fire-Hammer hadn't met him before that day. And yet the minute he ran, she ran after him, as though she wanted to tell him something urgent. When the arrows struck him down...she stopped, and awkwardly gathered him into her arms, even though her hands were still bound. I don't know what she said to him. But I could hear her singing him to Sovngarde, ignoring the commanding shouts of the Imperials to get back in line, head back to the chopping block. She stayed there, singing and holding him as he died, until the thief was both lifeless and cold."

Galmar didn't know how to respond to that, except to sigh. "You know, Ulfric. Seeing her in her first battle, and how she reacted afterward...I gathered something."

"What's that?"

"I'm fairly sure she'd never killed anyone before that."

Ulfric paused, and the knowledge weighed on his heart. "Then, she was just a citizen, before."

"Aye. I believe so."

"And the puzzle simply gains more pieces..."

"What will you do, Ulfric?"

"What should I do, Galmar?"

"Make her marry you. A King's proposal is not something that...it's not something that you can refuse."

"Believe it or not, Galmar, I prefer to have a wife that doesn't despise me."

"Then just take someone else as a wife. There are so many that would have you. Young ones, even, fit to bear sons."

"They don't interest me."

Galmar slams his fist on the table. "I don't know what to tell you, then! Fire-Hammer makes no sense, she barely speaks! Yes, she is unique. But it's either you have her spite and have her as your wife and/or soldier, or you let her leave and never see her again. And risk us losing this war."

There are some times, Ulfric finally realized, when it is not in the best interest of a country for a Jarl to be a good man.

That morning, however, he didn't have to deliver the news that would hurt the both of them terribly.

...Because, somehow, it had already gotten around.

In fact, he was woken by a palace guard early the next morning. In a way he'd been grateful to be woken up, because he'd been dreaming about Lucinda, screaming in agony, her voice echoing in his head.

"Jarl Ulfric! Jarl Ulfric! Come quickly! Come quickly!"

"What? What is it? What time is it?" He demanded, sitting up, and rubbing sleep out of his eyes. "Is Windhelm under siege?"

"No sir," The guard said quietly, "It is the princess."

"...The princess?"

"...Your to-be wife, sir. She is demanding to see you."

He was still half asleep and weary, and so he didn't think about the guard's words as much as he should have. Looking back on it he would realize that there was no way for the guard to know that she was to marry him. In fact, he had not even commanded such. He had only meant to command that she continue her service. There wasn't any way she changed her mind in the middle of the night...right?

...Who was he kidding? This was Lucinda. She was the most unpredictable being he had ever met.

"Fine," He said groggily, "I'll be in to see her in a second."

"Good. Thank you sir," The guard said, seeming uncomfortable.

Ulfric dressed, not inquiring further. He was still shaking the last vestiges of sleep from his mind.

He followed the guard to the guest chambers, where...it was conspicuously empty. "Where are the guards, her housecarl, her chambermaids?" He had already assigned all these people to her last night.

"...She sent everyone away, sir. Said she'd kill us all if we didn't get out of her sight that second."

"Of course," Ulfric said grumpily. Of course she would. Whatever this was...

When he finally reached the open door, he was immediately wide-awake. The first thing he noticed was a modest stack of cards and gifts. "By the Gods – what? Who sent these?" He strode into the room, and noticed that only one card had been opened. He also noticed something vastly more important.

Lucinda was sitting on the carpet on her hands and knees, in such a position of defeat and despair he felt his chest crush with the weight of it.

Immediately he rushed to her, and gathered her in his arms. She did not struggle, and that was when he knew something was really wrong.

"Lucinda," He breathed. "What is it...what. Tell me."

"You told them," She said, and her voice was so quiet, so broken.

"Told them what?"

"...Sir..." The guard from before- he was very brave, Ulfric would have to commend him later- "...She's been like this since she opened the first of the congratulations cards."

"...Congratulations cards," He repeated, hollowly.

"Yes...on your engagement."

"...Who sent them?"

"The noble houses right here in Windhelm, sir."

"...Who announced this engagement?"

The guard blinked. "...Didn't you, sir?"

"No. No, I did not."

"Then...I'm not sure, my lord. All of the staff knew this morning."

All of the staff knew? But he could have sworn he sent them away when he was arguing with her last night. He even took her into a back room so they wouldn't be overheard. Had Galmar...?

"...Did Galmar say anything?"

"No, sir. Lord Galmar is still asleep."

Who in Talos' name had done this?

He looked down to the limp thing in his arms, and noticed things he hadn't before. How small she was, how light. How dull she looked like this. "Lucinda," He breathed. "Please...talk to me. Tell me why this upsets you so. Please. I can't stand this..." He, a person of such importance, with all the power he worked hard to gather, felt so powerless in this moment.

But little did he know, the words she had spoken to the last night were the last she'd speak to him- at least, for a very long time.

He held her, and he waited. He waited long after the guard had excused himself to his usual duties. He waited until his mortal body could no longer stand it, and he had to tend to the hygienic needs of his body. And when he returned, she had finally, blessedly moved. She had curled up, hugging her knees to her chest.

"Lucinda. You need to dress and shower. It's almost mid-day." His tone was stern. "I can't have this. You're acting like a child."

There was no response. She didn't move.

He sighed in exasperation and turned to leave, finally giving up.

"...How could you do this to me?"

He never knew it was possible for one voice to hold so much heartbreak.

"I didn't," He replied, feeling his own heart break along with her. "I swear to you, I was only going to ask you to continue to serve in your capacity as a captain."

She didn't say anything, and in her silence, she conveyed the awful fact that she didn't believe him.

Ulfric left then. He had never been an emotional man, and he knew he could do nothing for her at this point. His time was best served elsewhere. But, throughout the day, he made his staff update him on her status. It was always the same. She wouldn't talk. Mid-afternoon, she had finally given in and taken a shower and dressed, but she wouldn't eat. Wouldn't speak. She wouldn't open the presents or even the cards.

He finally went to see her before he went to bed that night.

"Lucinda," He said, leaning against the doorframe.

The woman was looking out the window, looking much like a ghost. His servants had dressed her in finery, fit for her new, yet unwanted, position. He was pleased with them for doing so, though he wondered that a woman could still wear such fine things and wear such an aura of depression. She didn't reply to him.

It was just as well; he hadn't expected her to. "I know you won't believe me. But I am sorry. I am sorry it happened this way. I can't take it back, or refute it. There are likely already many couriers scrambling all over the landscape to get the news across Skyrim. The only thing I can do is promise to you that I will see to it that whoever has done this will lose his job."

Looking back on it later...he would realize that his promise would be another one of his biggest mistakes.

Because, in the morning, she had disappeared along with a certain member of his staff. The member of his staff was a great loss to him; the man had been a faithful servant for years and years. Even the loss of the man had nothing on the sensation that swept over him when he connected the dots.

"He's taken her," Ulfric said. "By foul play, no doubt. Or perhaps she didn't even fight back. She was so stricken she could barely stand. He's taken her because I was going to fire him. Perhaps he plans to ransom her."

"I doubt it," Galmar said. "If I were him, I'd just kill her to get back at you."

Ulfric buried his head in his hands. "...Give me war," He groaned. "Give me war any day, over this."