Chapter Summary: Miranja hatches a plan to try to get on Ulfric's good side, to satisfy her curiosity as well as to try to put a word in for her non-human friends.

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When Miranja entered the Palace of the Kings, Ulfric and Galmar were heading into the war room. She followed, waiting for a break in their conversation so she could address Ulfric. To her surprise, he spoke to her first this time, a brief but unmistakable glint of lust in his eyes. "If it isn't my 'friend' from Helgen again. You just can't stay away from here, can you?" His curious gaze traveled down her body and back up again, surely wondering what she was wearing beneath her long wool cloak. "So, have you finally decided to join me in the fight against the Imperial dogs who nearly put you to death?"

"I've come hoping to join you, yes, but not in the war." Miranja swallowed, feeling a little ridiculous now that she was here facing him. Hopefully, the worst he'd do was tell her no and laugh her out of the place.

Ulfric became irritated. "If you're not for me, you're against me. What are you talking about?"

Miranja glanced self-consciously at Galmar. "Could I maybe talk to you in private, please?"

Ulfric, too, glanced at Galmar for a moment, then turned back to her with a puzzled, expectant look. "Whatever you have to say, you can say it in front of Galmar."

Oh, that wasn't what she wanted. For a moment, she considered just leaving. Maybe she could try again some other time, when he and Galmar were not together. But when had she ever seen them apart? And she was wearing her most attractive dress and a little makeup… She gathered her courage, took a deep breath, and forged ahead, removing her cloak as she spoke, revealing her tavern dress and a large portion of her rosy flesh.

"I'm just going to come right out and say it. I'm sure you have dozens of women who throw themselves at you already, but I just want to tell you that I find you outrageously attractive and I'd just like to sleep with you if you'll have me. Selfish, yes. But there has to be a little pleasure to break up the monotony of misery and death."

Ulfric looked surprised and actually laughed, and she prepared to be ordered out.

"You're absolutely right." Ulfric smiled, and Miranja was gratified to see that lustful twinkle back in his eyes. "You have more stones than Galmar over there. And you're a lot better looking, too."

Galmar grumbled and voiced his misgivings. "Ulfric, this Imperial harlot may be a spy, sent to get close to you to assassinate you. Don't let your little head think for your big one."

Ulfric had started reaching out to touch Miranja's hair, but he stopped at Galmar's words and dropped his arm. "Would you like to search her first, Galmar?"

"She's the Dragonborn," Galmar pointed out. "She doesn't need a weapon to kill you. You, of all people, should recognize that."

"Ah, Galmar," Ulfric sighed. "That is why you are my right-hand man. I bow to your counsel. But there is more than one way to have a woman. Bind her and gag her."

Miranja had figured that going alone and without armor would make her appear less threatening, but she obviously hadn't thought this through as well as she should have. She honestly had no intention of assassinating Ulfric – yet – but of course, they wouldn't know that. And she'd left Erik back at the Candlehearth to wait for her, so she was on her own here.

Ulfric stepped close and held the back of her head while stuffing his handkerchief into her mouth with his other hand. Galmar roughly grabbed her arms, and a Stormcloak commander she hadn't even noticed was in the room tied her wrists snugly with a sturdy leather strap and a clever knot. Having her arms tied behind her back forced her chest out, and Ulfric's eyes shifted downward, but he continued to hold her still while Galmar went on to secure the handkerchief in her mouth with another leather strap stretched across her mouth and tied behind her head. He wasn't at all careful about it; her hair was caught uncomfortably in the knot and pulled when she moved.

Now Ulfric took hold of the lock of hair he'd been reaching for, lifting it to his nostrils and smelling the lavender she always used. He leaned in closer and nuzzled her ear, sucking on the flesh of her neck. Her heartbeat quickened at his closeness, his warmth, his lips on her skin, the scent of him, masculine but not sweaty or rank.

"I prefer my women to be blonde Nords, but you're still a comely lass," he murmured throatily, pulling her against him so that she could feel his erection. "And just the very idea of the future High King and the Dragonborn… mmm… This will be a very pleasant diversion, even if the bards can never compose a song about it."

To Galmar he said, "We have any number of beds at our disposal upstairs. Would you like to share a bit of this little treat with me?"

Oh, no, that was going too far. Miranja had had her share of threesomes, but she would never share a bed with a Stone-Fist. She shook her head vehemently, eyes blazing. Her 'fuck no' was muffled by the handkerchief, but her meaning was clear, nonetheless.

Ulfric stepped back in surprise, looking from Miranja to Galmar. "What's this? I don't think she wants you, lad."

"Fine with me. You can have the Imperial bitch all to yourself. Just don't remove that gag, whatever you do."

"I appreciate your concern, my friend. Don't worry about me. I know how to handle this wench."

Ulfric pushed her upstairs, holding her by the thong that bound her wrists. He took her all the way to his own bedchamber, nudged her in, and shut the door behind them. To Miranja's surprise, Ulfric unbound her and removed her gag, speaking as he worked.

"I'm trusting you, Dragonborn," he said. "Galmar would kill me with his own hands if he knew, but somehow I feel you're not looking to kill me – at least not this day. Even if you did kill me, I'm sure you know you'd never make it out of here alive. I think you're just here to satisfy your curiosity – and your itch. You're like a bitch in heat, aren't you?" Indignant, she opened her mouth to defend herself, but he continued before she could speak. "Oh, don't worry, I'm not judging you, woman. I like a lusty woman who knows what she wants and isn't afraid to go after it." He lifted her chin with his fingertips and went right in to devour her mouth, setting the butterflies loose in her belly and igniting the fire between her legs.

Ulfric's tongue… in her mouth… His hands in her hair… He was so tall…

She kissed him back with equal passion, and when she broke away, panting and swooning against him, he chuckled in amusement. "Like that, do you? There's more where that came from. Get undressed." Without waiting for her, he started shedding his own clothes. She watched him as she undressed herself – which didn't take long, as she had only her ankle boots and tavern dress to remove. His chest was broad and hairy, his arms well-muscled and attractively freckled, his thighs thick and firm, his ass meaty but tight. And that cock… not exceptionally long but quite pleasantly thick. Her crotch ached almost painfully as she looked at him laid completely bare to her. He was a tree of a man, even without all the clothing that made him appear thicker. His thick long hair, beard, and mustache made her think of a sabrecat, and she knew he could be just as dangerous. She could certainly understand Ulfric's charisma and ability to sway people to his side. His looks, his voice, his speechcraft – the combination got her insanely aroused.

Once he was fully unclothed, he came to stand in front of her, his cock standing upright and brushing against her belly. He took her head in both of his hands, fingers beneath her ears, thumbs lifting her jaw to tip her head back as he leaned in to kiss her once again. He was surprisingly tender about it.

As they kissed languidly, Miranja stroked his body with both hands, from his shoulders to his hairy chest, his nipples, his firm belly, his smooth sides, over his hips, and around to his tight ass. She compulsively grabbed those muscular cheeks and squeezed for a moment, enjoying their firmness, then moved one hand back between their bodies to wrap her fingers around his thick tool.

Ulfric exhaled in a long sigh as Miranja expertly stroked him. "Can I trust you not to bite it off if I ask you to suck it?"

"On my honor," Miranja replied, putting her fist to her heart.

Ulfric put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her gently down; she went to her knees and set to work, taking only the head to begin with, swirling her tongue around it then flicking her tongue just below the head on the underside, as she was used to doing for Faendal. Ulfric groaned and threaded his fingers into her hair, pulling at her head and urging her to take more. She resisted, taking her time and doing her slow, gradual thing, fondling him down below. She reached behind his scrotum and pressed her middle fingertip firmly against his perineum, massaging in little circles as she continued to gently squeeze and release his scrotum with the rest of her hand. Ulfric whispered a curse as he thrust his hips forward impatiently. Miranja relented and took the whole organ into her mouth, having to relax her throat to take it all the way in. She continued both her manual and oral stimulation until Ulfric's breath started to catch and he pushed her gently away.

"I'm not ready to finish," he told her. "I want to show you that a good Nord knows how to please a woman. We're not all brutes, you know." He took her hand and helped her back to her feet, then bade her to lie on his bed. Once she was comfortable, he positioned himself over her, supporting himself first on one hand, then the other, as he fondled and suckled each of her breasts. Miranja moaned at the electric feeling of his tongue flicking her nipples, and she reached down between them to stroke his rod once again.

"You want some more of that, do you?" Ulfric moved his hips in time with her stroking for a moment, then pulled her hand away and took hold of it himself. He pressed the head of his cock against her moist petals, sliding it smoothly up and down a few times, from her clit to her entrance and back again. Rather than plunging forcefully into her, he entered her slowly, teasingly, sweetly tormenting her in the same way she had tormented him, putting the head in, pulling out, pushing in a little further, pulling out, and so on, eliciting frustrated moans from her until he was completely inside her, pressing against her clit and grinding his crotch against hers in sensuous little circles. Miranja pushed back against him, letting the pleasure wash over her body as she grabbed his ass and pulled him deeper with each upward arc of the circles.

Ulfric began fucking her in earnest, and the pleasant friction of his movement within her, combined with the pressure on her clit and the head of his cock bumping against her g-spot, brought her to orgasm so quickly she almost felt dirty.

"Ah, yes, that's it," Ulfric growled, continuing his slow, sensuous, circular thrusts. "Come for me. Who's giving you all the pleasure?"

"Ulfric," Miranja groaned in ecstasy, partly in answer to his question but partly just because she would have uttered his name even if he hadn't asked. She moaned and clung to him with arms and legs, and he worked one powerful arm beneath her and lifted her lower body right off the bed to angle himself in deeper as she rode the waves of pleasure. She found his mouth with hers, eyes squeezed shut, and sucked at his lip, touched his tongue with her own, sucked on his tongue. It was over in less than a minute, but it felt like a miniature eternity to Miranja.

"Was that to your satisfaction, lass?" Ulfric asked her, with a look in his eyes that said he knew very well that he had pleased her well, he just wanted to hear it from her lips.

"Mmm, very much so, my Jarl," Miranja purred, brushing a strand of sweaty hair from her face.

"Good, because now it's my turn." He instructed her to turn over and get up on her knees, and as soon as she was in position, he buried himself in her drenched pussy once again, holding her by her hips and pulling her against him as he began thrusting rapidly. He watched his cock going in and out of her, relishing the wet slapping sound and the feeling of his balls bouncing against her vulva. Faster and faster he fucked her, and when his own orgasm was imminent, he bent down over her and filled his hands with the firm flesh of her breasts, fingers digging, kissing her sweaty back and groaning. "Take that, Imperial bitch, take my seed," he growled, biting her almost too firmly, making her cry out and cringe away. Even so, she found herself turned on; the situation was so similar to the hate-sex she'd had with Ondolemar, just a little over a week ago. Ulfric thrust into her hard until he was spent, then went to his wardrobe and extracted a towel. He dried himself first, tossed it to her so that she could clean herself up, then started to get dressed again.

"Thank you for that delightful stress reliever," Ulfric smiled wryly.

"It was my pleasure," Miranja smiled back. "Thank you for satisfying my curiosity – and my body." She dropped the wet towel to the floor, retrieved her clothes, and was dressed again in mere moments.

"I can't wait to see Galmar's face when I take you downstairs unbound. I told him I know what I'm doing."

"Ulfric, if you have another moment…"

Ulfric finished donning his boots and turned to her expectantly.

"I was wondering if you have any plans for improving the quality of life for the Dunmer and Argonian citizens of Windhelm. And if there's anything I can do to help."

"I have bigger fish to fry at this moment. Perhaps once Skyrim is free of the Thalmor and the Empire, I'll be able to turn my attention in that direction. For now, it's at the bottom of my list of priorities."

"I see," Miranja frowned. "Look, the Empire hates the Thalmor just as much as you do, Ulfric. But we have to walk a fine line with them to avoid another war. Dividing Skyrim is not in her best interest."

"And what would you know of it, Imperial?"

"I'm half Nord, myself. Your people are my people, too. My mother's people."

"I didn't bring you up here to discuss politics or ask your advice on how to deal with the Thalmor. If you're finished dressing, I think it's time for you to leave."

Miranja scowled darkly and left the room wordlessly. She could sense Ulfric following behind her at a leisurely pace. Upon reaching the war room, she ignored the looks from Galmar and the commander, picking up the cloak they'd let fall to the floor while binding her. She threw it on and drew it close around her as she continued storming out, her anger growing more intense at the laughter of the men behind her. Jorleif looked at her in mild curiosity, but didn't stop her.

Back at the inn, she found that the room was empty, and she took advantage of Erik's absence to wash and freshen up before supper. She found him upstairs, playing a card game with Stenvar.

"Hungry again yet?" she asked, nodding politely at Stenvar.

"I'm almost always hungry," Erik replied. "Just give me a couple more minutes to finish taking my butt-whooping."

Stenvar smiled, showing his crooked teeth. "You've put up a good fight, boy, but you have a ways to go before you beat the master." He spread his hand of cards before him on the table: four kings.

Erik sighed and laid his cards out: a ten, a jack, a queen, and an ace. "No wonder I couldn't finish this flush."

"Sorry, kid. Better luck next time." Stenvar collected his winnings, and Erik thanked him for the game.

"Just need to get my cloak from the room, and we can head right out," Erik told Miranja as they moved toward the stairs.

The anger Miranja was still carrying toward Ulfric was dissolving now that she was back in Erik's company. Her affection for Erik filled her heart. She couldn't help but smile at his appetite for new experiences and his open-mindedness toward the non-human people to whom she'd so far introduced him. She was having an enjoyable time taking him to places he'd never been, especially considering that she'd never been anywhere in Skyrim until a few short months ago. She hoped that their travels together would provide him with varied experiences – fighting wild animals, bandits, mages, vampires, Forsworn, draugr – so that he could return to Rorikstead feeling fully confident in himself as a mercenary. She looked forward to the day they could compare stories, as he'd mentioned before.

In the meantime, they were going to have a good supper at the New Gnisis and show those hardworking, beleaguered Dunmer that not all Nords were cold and bigoted.