Skyrim's houses of worship are some of the most well-respected institutions in the whole of the province. Independently of who you are and who you sing your praises to, Daedra notwithstanding, religion is sacred and the one thing which most would not dare to touch. This is one of the reasons why the supporters of Ulfric and his Civil War fought so ardently. Faith and belief in their God brought them all together, and the choice of who or what to believe in is upheld universally as sacrosanct.
Many faces of every race on Nirn pass through the temples to seek comfort, and their aging stone walls bring solace even to those who are not religiously inclined due to their nature: peaceful and quiet.
This is no less the case when Dahlia and Ulfric make their way through the old wooden door to their temple: The Temple of Talos. And neither of them are immune to the sense of tranquil stillness which softly blankets them as they pass through the threshold.
Man, mer, and beastfolk alike frequent the halls for numerous reasons in times of joy, in times of hardship, and like them, in times of tragedy. Perhaps it is this stillness, the almost slowing of time which covers those who enter which draws them in and brings them peace. It is exactly for this reason why Dahlia has brought them here now.
As the pair walks solemnly through the rows of empty pews, the stained glass windows filter the last rays of hazy light through their panes. It would almost be a pretty scene which Dahlia would take a moment to appreciate, but for the time being, she finds herself unable to bring herself to find any joy in it. Her mind is elsewhere.
Eventually, the two lone figures pass by every pew, opting instead to kneel in front of the stone figure of Talos who looms over them as the only witness to their pain. The priests must be out calling on the needy at home, or one or both of them would have already approached them. However, neither Dahlia nor Ulfric find the lack of attention bothersome. It gives them time for just the two of them and their God-time for prayer for strength. Their only connection to Mundus is the other's hand, held tightly as they both tether one another to reality in a reminder that neither is alone.
They stay like that, still as the statue they kneel in front of, hands grasping one another for what feels like hours. Jora comes and goes several times, and Ulfric eventually loses feeling in his knees, but yet, he stays resolute in his position kneeling next to Dahlia because he suspects that she needs it.
Because he knows that he needs it too.
"Talos, give me strength so that I may be strong in our hour of need." They are only words which leaves his lips during the long night.
When the sun rises next morning and Jora wakes for her morning prayers, she finds Ulfric sitting on one of the pews with Dahlia leaning against him and sleeping.
Did they really spend the entire night here?
The high priestess approaches Ulfric carefully, bowing when she knows that he has seen her.
"My Jarl..."
He quiets her with a gentle hushing motion, nodding towards Dahlia's figure.
She lowers her voice and tries again, "My Jarl, surely there is something that I can do for one of both of you. It must be something grave which brings you both here, especially if you have been here all night."
Ulfric looks down at Dahlia, stroking a hand through her hair thoughtfully. He has known Jora for quite a few years and is a frequent visitor to the Temple even in the best of times. While he feels that he could probably confide in her, the news is still too raw.
"Thank you, Jora. I appreciate that you want to help us, but this is a matter which must stay between the two of us for the moment."
He continues to speak quietly with the priestess for a while as he asks her if there is anything that they require or if any of the citizens have come to her with problems or issues. Once she has finished telling him of what she knows, Ulfric takes the opportunity to make a special request of her. Maybe she cannot help them now in their time of grief, but there is something else she can do.
"Jora, I was wondering..."
He seems almost nervous to ask his next question and looks down at Dahlia again as if to make sure she is still sleeping.
"Yes, my Jarl?"
"Would it be possible to have a wedding in the Temple of Talos?"
The question momentarily surprises her into silence as this was not at all what she was expecting the Jarl to ask. It is an odd request for this Temple. She blinks in confusion for a few moments while she tries to think of a proper response.
"Are you sure that you wouldn't prefer to marry her in a proper ceremony at the Temple of Mara? It's more traditional, more romantic, and..."
He cuts her off. "Yes, I am certain. I think she and I would like to be married here, with our people and under the roof of our God. Is it possible to do or no?"
The priestess seems to think about it for a few seconds before answering. "The Temple of Talos has never performed a wedding before, and I am not familiar with the rights of matrimony; however, I do not see why we could not invite Maramal from the Temple of Mara in Riften to perform the ceremony here. After all, it is more about the priest transferring Mara's blessing rather than the place where it is performed."
"Excellent." He looks down at Dahlia with a smile. "In that case, wait for our word until we can make proper arrangements which are fit for the queen she is to be."
It makes Jora pleased to see the way he has taken to Dahlia, doting on her faithfully. She has gotten to know the Dragonborn, as she too is a frequent visitor to this house of worship, and she knows that they make a good match. If there is something she can do to bring them one step closer to happiness, she will make sure it is done.
Not that long thereafter, Dahlia stirs from her slumber, stretching out on the wooden pew fully, and Jora bows to take her leave so that they can have some modicum of privacy.
"Good morning, love." Ulfric brushes a hand down her side, and she shifts against him to a more comfortable position against his chest.
"Did I fall asleep here? Have we been here all night?" She asks in confusion, her voice low from sleep.
"Yes-"
"Why didn't you wake me and move me to the Palace then? This can't have been comfortable for you, especially with that scar on your chest. You can try to hide it from me, but I know better. It still pains you."
"You worry too much about me, my heart." He deflects, taking one of her hands in his own and placing a kiss to the back of it. "Why don't you rub the sleep from your eyes, and I will take you to Ilse's for danishes? Would you like that?"
Dahlia smiles at him softly, a warm feeling creeping slowly from within her like the first rays of sun thawing the winter frost. Happiness has been a foreign emotion for her in the last month, and this is the first she has felt it truly reach out to touch her in what feels like too many days.
"I know exactly what you are doing, and this conversation is not over." She narrows her eyes playfully at him before stretching and getting up from the pew. "We will continue this discussion later."
"Of that, I have no doubt, but for now I will accept my small victory."
"Spoken like the true politician you are." She chuckles as she takes his hand and leads him out of the Temple.
A new day is waiting for them, and they will embrace it together.
The merchants' quarter is bustling with vendors, patrons, and a beggar or two as Dahlia and Ulfric walk through the streets, wearing the same clothes they did yesterday with both of their hair mussed from sleep or lack thereof. However, neither of them care. Not when the people stare in shock at them as they hurriedly bow in respect, and not as several of them approach the pair to give Ulfric their well-wishes and chat for a short while. Vanity is for those who have more brains than sense.
Each time someone approaches them, Dahlia stops, and Ulfric watches as she works the crowd. While she may not have been born into nobility and still lack some of the finesse for the finer points of politics, she certainly knows how to talk to the people and make them feel heard.
Dahlia has the biggest heart in all of Tamriel, and will be the finest queen Skyrim has had in years.
And he has the privilege of marrying her.
Eventually, they make it though the main square and to Ilse's shop, the scent of freshly-baked sweet breads wafting into both of their noses. When Ulfric pushes the door open for Dahlia, Ilse nearly drops the pan she is cleaning.
"My lord Ulfric," Ilse bows quickly as she frantically wipes her hands and face of flour only to be unsuccessful and spread more of it over her face. "What are you doing here this morning? Are you well? We've all been praying to Lady Mara for you. And where-"
Words tumble from Ilse's mouth in a whirlwind of questions until she sees Dahlia appears from behind the Jarl.
"Ah, Lady Dragonborn, we have missed your presence here. It is good to see you as well."
"How many times have I told you not to call me that?" Dahlia shakes her head with a laugh. She knows that Ilse means well and wants to make a good impression for Ulfric; however, the honorifics are entirely unnecessary.
"And you'll have to do so at least once more, dear." The baker teases, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Are you both on a date?"
Dahlia looks up to Ulfric, a small smile upturning the corners of her lips, as she answers. "I guess you could say that, Ilse. How have you been?"
The older woman waves her question off entirely. "I think some special treatment is in order. Is there something I can get for you? A chair? A cup of tea? A danish?" She offers as she hastily moves about her empty shop. The early morning crowd has already come and gone or it would be stuffed to the brim.
"Ilse, please don't put yourself out on our account." Dahlia tries to reassure her, but she just ignores her.
"I must agree and insist, Ilse. Any friend of my future wife is a friend of mine."
At that announcement, Ilse stops.
"Future wife?" She turns to them slowly, a wide grin on her face. "Then the rumors are true? You are both to be married then? That's fantastic news!"
Ulfric takes Dahlia's hand in his own, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. "Yes, it is true, and the sooner the better."
Dahlia's eyes widen, and she gapes at him as a faint blush creeps up to paint her cheeks.
"Do you have a date then?" Ilse asks with a sigh. "I don't mean to be a pest, but it's just so romantic. I remember Dahlia from when she was a tiny girl, running around and terrorizing the streets on this end of the city. You should have seen her. She was adorable."
"I have no doubt of that." He smiles at Dahlia. "She still is."
He knows exactly what he is doing and just the right words to make her stomach flip.
"That's quite enough of that, Ulfric." She tells him, clearly embarrassed as the pink tinge on her cheeks erupts into a full fire. "I am sure Ilse has many things to do, and we don't want to bother her." Dahlia clears her throat. "Ilse, we will take two danishes to go, please."
"But if you two would like to stay, that's no problem. I can close up the shop and-"
"No." Dahlia insists. "That's quite alright Ilse. I appreciate it, but we also have work to do. As much as I would like it to, unfortunately, paperwork does not do itself."
At that, Ulfric chuckles. "No wonder Jorleif is fond of you. He must be pleased with your work ethic."
Dahlia sends him a playful glare. "Someone had to do it since you were having a nice long nap." She ribs him good-naturedly.
"Spoken like a true married couple." Ilse smiles and hands them the danishes. "I hope you both will come back soon."
Ulfric takes the pastries from her and puts several septims out onto the counter before turning to leave."You don't worry about that as we will definitely be back. I know this is Dahlia's favorite place."
As the days pass, it seems that each one of them bleeds into the next while Dahlia does the best she can to help fill Ulfric in on everything that he missed over the last month. She leaves nothing out in her accounts, telling him all about the various visitors that she saw, particularly paying more mind to the Dunmer, Argonians, and the Green-Kettles.
"I don't understand why you keep him around if he constantly defies you." Dahlia tells Ulfric as she picks up her wine cup to take a sip.
He sighs, leaning forward to rest an elbow on the table between them. They are currently enjoying a private lunch in their chambers. "You have no idea how much I would like for that entire family to disappear."
"Then make it so! You are the Jarl after all."
"It's not as simple as that, Dahlia. I have a reputation to hold, and if I just start banishing nobles I don't like with no reason, the others will not respect me. That's what I have left, and that is why the other nobles have followed me for so long. I am reliable if nothing else."
"You're more than that Ulfric." She smiles at him while she reaches her hand across the table to take his. "And they have already openly defied me and defied you! Surely that should be more than just cause to send them off to some far corner of Eastmarch."
The Jarl shakes his head. "No, I'm afraid not. They dance the line of fine politics, knowing exactly how far to go."
"But he openly challenged me! He can't do that. I had every right to sit on your throne as your Thane while you were incapacitated! That's as good as questioning your judgement." Dahlia argues.
The Green-Kettles certainly made their impression on her, and it is not a good one.
"If anyone should like to express their grievances and challenge the authority of the Jarl, they are more than free to do so."
"...and thus also free to be Shouted into Oblivion." She grins wickedly at the prospect. She does not like the petty, shallow games these people play, and she knows that every word they speak, they do so with an ulterior motive.
"Are you so thirsty for blood, my heart?"
While she normally has a good head about her shoulders seeing things from both perspectives, the things Dahlia has been through recently have changed her outlook slightly. She is still the woman she was before, but now she knows that she must fight for what she holds dear with tooth and nail.
"I will not let them near you. If anyone should try, I will not hesitate to make a move, politics or no." Her eyes burn with sincerity, and he knows she means every word she says as she looks at him. "I almost lost you once, and I will not do so again."
"Never, and I am sorry for worrying you so." He gets up from the table and walks over to her, taking her hand and leading her to sit on the edge of their bed.
"Where do we go from here?" She asks quietly as she plays with Ulfric's fingers.
This is the conversation that they both had been trying to avoid over the last few days. Everything still too raw, still to fresh despite the fact that there are days-an entire month-separating those events from now. The wound has still not healed, and they both bleed fresh as if it had all happened only seconds ago. Time has a funny way of doing things like this. Some memories are distant, faded scars, and yet others never seem to get any farther from them no matter how much time passes.
Ulfric thinks on her question for a while, trying to find the right words to say to her-to say to himself. "I think," he begins, and he squeezes her fingers, "that there is only one thing we can do. Do you know what thought got me through my torture with Elenwen and my time in prison in Markarth?"
Dahlia shakes her head, not sure where he is going with this. It is not often that he discusses either of those events with her.
"There has to be something better than this, and I was right. Despite the hardships I had to endure, there is nothing we can do to change the past, nor would I want to. It all brought me here to you. The only thing we can do is move forward and keep living our lives as best we can knowing that there is something better out there. A new day."
She looks down at their interlocked hands, wondering how one could possibly push forward after all of this and how he can be so optimistic. It feels impossible. "It's hard."
"I know, my heart. I know." He wraps a hand around her, drawing her closer to him. "It's hard for me too."
"How do you do it?" She looks up at him, blinking tiredly.
Ulfric leans down slowly to whisper against her lips. "I know that no matter what we will get though this together because you are at my side. I need no other assurance than that." He closes the distance between them, capturing her lips with his own.
Her arms reach up for him automatically, hands threading themselves through his hair and pulling him desperately closer to her. While she missed being able to talk to and confide in him, she did not realize until now that she was also so starved for contact and intimacy-to be held tightly and not let go-to be loved and cherished in every possible meaning and connotation of the word.
At first, the kisses start off softly, lips pressing together gently, barely touching as they warm each other with their affections. Then, hands soon follow, exploring one another carefully while they ghost over the other's skin. However, it quickly turns into an fever of touches, embraces, and kisses, both of them feeling an urgent need to have more contact with the other. When she comes up for air, Dahlia does not know at what time or how she ended up on her back with Ulfric on top of her.
"We could try again, you know." He asks her, testing the waters of how she feels about their current position.
She smiles sadly up at him and shakes her head slightly. "It isn't that I do not want you or do not want to, but..."
Ulfric presses a kiss to her forehead. "I understand. You don't need to explain yourself to me." He begins to get up from off the bed, but Dahlia pulls him back to her.
"That doesn't mean I don't want you here." Her eyes find his as she gazes up at him affectionately. "I have missed you more than you can imagine."
She takes one of her hands to push Ulfric back until he is sitting upright, and her legs are wrapped around his torso. From this position, she reaches out to pull his tunic off, and as soon as he is free of it, the cloth is immediately replaced with her impatient hands.
This is what she wanted-what she craved, skin-to-skin-contact. She runs her fingers up and down his chest before she lays him back on the bed, changing positions with him to trail a slow line of kisses down his chest. When she reaches his scar, she pays special attention to it, pushing more healing magic into it, and placing a tender kiss to the mark.
It brings a smile to Ulfric's face to see her dote on him so much, even if it isn't necessary. It is likely that the scar will always pain him in some way or form, especially when she is far away from him. However, with her near, he finds he doesn't feel the pain much at all. She has taken it all away from him. For now, he shows his appreciation for her with a low hum as he places his hands on her face and pulls her gently back up to him.
Her lips meet his again, kissing Ulfric tenderly before she settles on top of him, effectively using him as her personal bed.
"Are you comfortable there?" He asks, amusement clear in his voice.
At this, she laughs; however, she doesn't move. "Yes, I am. Thank you very much for asking."
"As long as you are, that's all that matters."
"Because you know I could Shout you into Oblivion in one breath." She quips in a jokes to him.
However, he surprises her with his sincere response.
"No, because your happiness is what is most important to me."
They lay there, content, together, and in peace for several hours until a sudden unexpected force opens the door to their chambers, disturbing their moment of tranquility.
Both of them turn their heads quickly to the noise, prepared for a sudden attack until they see who it is at the door.
"Oh, it's just you." Dahlia breathes a sigh of relief.
"Oh, it's just me, is it? Is that how you greet your best friend after she was worried shitless about you?"
Apparently, Lydia did not take too kindly to Dahlia shutting her out over the last few weeks.
The housecarl enters the room, not waiting for an invitation, and as she steps into Dahlia and Ulfric's chambers, they can see that she brought Narile with her.
"Good afternoon, Lydia. How have you been? And you Narile?" Ulfric asks as Dahlia rolls off of him.
"You? You're awake?" Lydia asks surprised.
"Shouldn't I be?" Ulfric states, a small smile on his face.
"I mean yes-and we had heard rumors of people seeing both of you walk through the market district a few days ago, but I though they were just that: rumors! Don't get me wrong. I am very glad to see you well, but-" She lets the subject drop, opting instead to look to Dahlia as she points an accusatory finger her way. "I am very angry at you. How dare you try to keep me out of here and see you? If anyone knows how self-indulgently destructive you can get, it's me."
The entire time Lydia is admonishing her Thane, Narile stares awkwardly at her fingernails, a scandalized look on her face at Lydia's behavior in front of the Jarl. Unsure of what to say or if she should interrupt, the Dunmer curtseys to the Jarl and raises a hand in a flustered greeting to both him and the Dragonborn.
Dahlia waves a hand back to Narile and gives her an understanding smile before she answers her angry housecarl. "I'm sorry, Lydia, but I was just...not myself, and-."
"That is no excuse and you of all people should know it!"
"I was in no condition-"
"We all thought he was..." Lydia shakes her head, her voice dropping off as she changes directions with what she was going to say. "But yet you and he go galavanting around the main square and to Ilse's for danishes, and you do not even bother to come visit us. I have half the mind to hit you with the broad side of my sword." She crosses her hands over her chest defensively.
"What Lydia means to say is is that she was worried about you, Dahlia. We both were." Narile interrupts as she tries to quiet her partner's anger.
"Thank you, Narile, and you Lydia." Ulfric sits up, gesturing a hand for both women to sit.
Lydia begrudgingly moves to one of the chairs at the small dining table they have in the room while Narile thanks them for their hospitality.
"For what it's worth, I really am sorry." Dahlia tries to tell her again. In hindsight, she knows that she should not have shut her friend out like this, but she was in distress, and she wasn't sure how to talk to her without ripping open fresh wounds which had not even begun to start to heal.
"Why didn't you call for me?"
Dahlia looks over to Ulfric, silently communicating with him and asking for permission before she tells her friend of what they have lost. He nods back to her and takes her hand in solidarity, letting her know that he is here with her.
The Dragonborn takes in a shaky breath before she answers her. If anyone deserves to know, it is her. "Getting Ulfric back on his feet was not the only thing I was dealing with, Lydia." She looks to Ulfric, and he squeezes her hand to encourage her to continue. "We also lost a child. I am not sure if it was a direct result of the war, its aftermath, the stress, or if it just wasn't meant to be, but..."
All anger which the housecarl previously felt, promptly fizzles out at hearing this news. "Oh Dahlia, I am so sorry. I-I didn't have any idea, and..."
"It is in the past now, and we are both working on healing. Thank you." Dahlia brushes her off, not wanting to speak about the topic any further for the moment. Perhaps, later she will want to talk about it, but for now, it is something which she wants to process with Ulfric before speaking with others in depth.
They sit in awkward silence for a few moments before Lydia clears her throat to continue. "We didn't just come here-or rather, I didn't just come here to yell at you. We actually came here with an invitation we would like to extend to the both of you."
"If you are feeling up to it, of course." Narile adds quickly.
"What's happening?" Dahlia asks.
"We have made arrangements for our wedding." Narile tells her as she crosses the room to hand the Dragonborn a piece of parchment. "It will be held this Sundas at the Gnisis. It would be an honor to have both of you there. We held off from having it until we knew Dahlia was home. Lydia demanded it actually."
"Did she now?" Ulfric takes the paper from Dahlia to look it over. "Well, if that is the case, it would seem rude not to show up, wouldn't it?"
"I suppose it would." Dahlia smiles slightly before looking up at Narile. "You can put us down for two. We will be there."
"I am glad to hear it, and we also both hear that there are some congratulations in order for both of you. Do you have a date picked yet?"
Of course, by now word would have spread through the normal channels of gossipmongers that they are to be married. However, she did not expect to be asked about it so soon. The event had seemed so uncertain and so far away with the war and then Ulfric being unconscious that she put it entirely out of her mind.
Surprisingly, Ulfric is the one to answer Narile's question despite the fact that it was not directed to him. "We do not as of yet, but we are working on it. As soon as anything is concrete, and we have started to make arrangements, you will both be the first to know."
"No hearing things from Viola, then? That's where we hear that you were up and about and eating pastries." Lydia can't help but tease.
"No, definitely not. What rumors has she been spreading now?" Morbid curiosity getting the best of Dahlia. Normally, her rumors are only half-truths and embellishments.
"Well, first she was saying that you and Wuunferth raised Ulfric from the dead with necromancy..." Lydia begins.
"...but then she was saying it was Mara herself which touched you both and that she saw the Goddess herself." Narile finishes.
"Then she was talking about the Green-Kettles." Lydia adds. "Is it true that you Shouted them from the Palace?"
Ulfric blinks incredulously for a few moments, trying to piece together and understand this string of crazy rumors, and Dahlia tries to hold in a laugh. It does not surprise her that she would make up such nonsense.
"Well, to set the story straight," Dahlia answers, "I did not use necromancy, and Wuunferth has not set a foot in here since my arrival. My current theory on what happened is still forming, but yes, I do believe that perhaps Mara was involved slightly. And as for the Green-Kettles, I only wish I had Shouted them from the Palace. They're a disgusting bunch of power-grabbing, opportunist, leeches." She finishes with a huff.
"So, why didn't you Shout them to pieces? Would you like me to go and pay them a visit?" Lydia lifts a brow.
"Because I told her not to." Ulfric answers. "Despite the fact that they are unpleasant to deal with-"
"That is an understatement." Dahlia mutters under her breath.
"I need them to cooperate. They are still a noble and influential family, and things are still unstable after the war. I need to keep the peace here until things are in order, and I can get a better idea of what our next move is."
"Well, if either of you should need anything, you know you can count on us." Lydia rises from her seat and offers a hand to Narile.
"Likewise. You know we are always here for you, and your support is appreciated. I may call on you one of these days with a request." Ulfric tells her, and Dahlia looks at him in confusion.
"My sword and loyalty are yours."
"Excellent. I will have Jorleif bring you here, so we can discuss a proposition I have for you. I will wait until after your wedding, of course. I am sure you both have a lot of things to do, so don't worry about it for the time being."
Lydia and Narile both bow and turn to leave the room; however, before she closes the door, she has one more thing to say. "Please, do not be a stranger to us. Either of you."