A/N: Hey everyone! Merry Christmas! Sorry I haven't updated but it's been messy! So as a Christmas present I've managed to scramble together a new chapter. Sorry if it seems rushed but I did this on my iPhone after we opened presents! Also I'd like to thank my lone reviewer lita2extreme! *Gives Christmas cookie* Thank you for leaving me a small comment! I really appreciate that you took the time to review for me! I hope to see more of those soon! They really help me get chapters out.
Disclaimer: I do not own or profit off anything I'm writing. However Koudelka is mine and you may not use or take her for your leisure. Thank you!
Chapter rating: T. Some nudity and intimate themes, nothing heavy though.
Three months she had been gone. Three. She had counted everyday, never surrendering or breaking to her captors. Then again, that's why they all lay dead back at their underground den. Assumptions. Unintelligent and sloppy coordination.
But she was one to talk.
Koudelka whimpered as she pushed the heavy metal doors of the palace open, taking tremendous comfort in the familiar smells and blurry sights. She spared a glance to her right to see who was on guard that night. The assassin smiled when she saw a familiar braid end peaking out from the side of a helmet. Ralof.
"Hey! Koudelka you're back! Ulfric's been worr-... Kou?"
The last thing she felt was her friend's arms catching her.
When news reached Ulfric that his assassin was back in the Palace, Galmar had to practically restrain the man.
"You cannot go now!" He whispered harshly, keeping a firm grip on Ulfric's forearm under the table. They were currently in a meeting with the Jarl of Winterhold discussing the college. Again.
"Jarl Korir, there is nothing indicating that the college is behind the Great Collapse," Ulfric began, "and furthermore, I don't believe that you are supporting of your people's opinions that there is. And as much as I hate to admit, magic has woven its claws too far into the lands of Skyrim to destroy the only independent source of knowledge for those who wish to be mages. Plus," Ulfric grinned lightly, "they... Upset the Thalmor with their independence."
"Aye my Lord. Just as a Jarl it is my duty to address my people's concerns such as the College to the High King." The man made to stand and thanked Ulfric, who nodded once in welcome. "And a grand Jarl you are for doing so."
He then waited, none too patiently, until the man headed up the stairs to the guest chambers near Wuunferth's own room. As soon as Galmar heard the door in the main hall close, he released his long time friend.
Ulfric jumped from his chair and briskly walked up the stairs, slamming the door behind him. Of course, Galmar was worried about the young woman upstairs, but he was sure she would be fine. She always was. She always had to be.
When Ulfric reached the top of the stairs he quickly hooked a right into the small hall leading up to the room that had become Koudelka's bedroom. He was stopped by a maid.
"My Lord, I do not think you should enter. Her wounds are being dressed." Utter anger flashed in Ulfric's eyes. "Wounds?!" he snarled, his tone commanding her to move. She flinched and wisely moved as he barged into the room. At the sound of the door slamming against the wall, the male apothecary blocking his view of her looked up.
"Get out." The older man seethed.
The apothecary left without collecting his salves, dismissing himself and shutting the door behind him.
Koudelka smiled softly as she took in his appearance. His face was ashen, he had dark rings under his dulled green eyes, and looked absolutely exhausted. He had worried. She sat up painfully, the blanket covering her pooled at her waist. They had bathed her before starting to dress her wounds. Her abnormally long hair was still wet and easily covered her breasts, maintaining her decency.
Ulfric looked at her solemnly. Slices across her arms and sides had been mostly treated, but he was sure there were many more. Nothing was said as the light from the fireplace flickered over them. Finally Ulfric was pulled from his stupor.
"Who?" he questioned firmly. "They will be slaughtered." The High King was over to her in three large strides, kneeling by her bedside. His evergreen eyes met her emerald and he questioned her. "Let me see you..."
She nodded without hesitation. "Okay."
Ulfric wasted no time in gently pushing her hair back over her shoulders and pulling the blanket to bunch up at the foot of the bed. "By The Nine..." he whispered.
Her torso was littered in lacerations and bruises. Her thighs had scratches and her knees were scraped up. There was an angry looking scar that hadn't healed properly by her hipbone. He ran his fingers around each spot with a surprising gentleness, causing the woman to shiver and blush. He stood to scoot her over on the bed so he could sit. Large hands quickly cupped her face and a soft kiss was pressed against her lips.
"It was my own fault Ulfric, please forgive my absence."
"This was no fault of yours, love. They must die, who did this?"
She laughed and leaned into his hand. "I got caught in one of the Falmer claw traps... The scar on my hip. They kept me and tortured me until they got sloppy. Then I broke out and killed them all."
He sighed and pressed their foreheads together. "Of course you did, my love." He swore nothing could stop this woman. Not even a god.
I hope you enjoyed! Thank you for reading and please don't forget to leave me some love :D it can be my Christmas present!