#jorleif

[helgiafterdark]

brought lydia to court and dressed her up :)

[incorrectskyrimquotes]

Jorleif: WOAH I'm pretty sure you shouldn't have a weapon at a Court meeting??

Eryn: Everything could be a weapon to me. That bread would be more deadly in my hands than my sword would be in yours.

Jorleif: That's... probably true.

[nerevar-quote-and-star]

Ralof: I invented a fun game we can all play. It’s called Odahviing or Ulfric. I give you actual quotes I heard and you tell me if the Dragonborn was talking to her dragon or her husband.

Ulfric Stormcloak:

Leara Rose-blade:

Odahviing:

Galmar Stone-Fist:

Stormcloak Guard #13:

Viola Giordano, for some reason:

Calder:

Yrsarald Thrice-Pierced:

Stormcloak Guard #22:

Jorleif:

Leara Rose-blade: I don’t think I like this game.

[thequeenofthewinter]

~Crashes through the doors of the Palace of Kings~ the courier got injured and asked me to deliver this letter to you. Sorry about the door, apparently it was urgent. I’ll pay to fix it, I promise.

6, 15

*blinks* *looks around at the destruction* *speechless* Uhhh... *continues eating sweet roll*

6. I just answered this in another ask. ;) I'd normally feed you another answer, but I am afraid I do not have any.

15. Work, work, work, and more work. I have no idea how I will survive next semester. I prefer not to think about it. TT

[your-talos-is-problematic]

I visit the Gray Quarter a lot to buy food/supplies and also because it’s in character, and I always feel bad to see Sofie there. I already have two children so I can’t adopt her, but I always wish I could get someone else in Windhelm to take her in.

Confession: I wish there were a Skyrim mod that makes it possible for whatever kids you don’t adopt to get taken in by NPCs. I know there’s mods that let you adopt more yourself but it’s a bit immersion breaking imo. Like maybe if you don’t adopt Sofie, if you win the war for either side you could convince the jarl of Windhelm to take her in or something. Or Adrianne and Ulfberth could adopt Lucia. It’s probably just me but I feel bad that the player is the only chance for a good home for all those kids :(

[hircines-hunter]

WIP almost Wednesday

still got the Ulfric brainrot. It’s getting worse if I’m buying merch…. Oh well! Maybe I need a new hobby! I’ll see. couldn’t decide on what to actually post. So, I’ll post this thing since I made an image for it and everything.

Gonna tag @thequeenofthewinter @umbracirrus @mavariel @madamefluffnstuff @vivifriend

Anyone else that wants to do you can tag me please!

Dyrvina paced in the main hall. She sighed heavily. She messed with the red beads on her wrist.

Several weeks had passed since Ulfric and his army left for Solitude. Dyrvina grew worried with every passing day and night. The people grew worried. She was frequented by the same people at court daily. All of them concerned with the state of the war. As if anyone had time to report to her.

Frits moped around with her. Lerke followed her lady’s every step, armor clanking with each footfall. Dyrvina sighed again. She knew he was alive. There would’ve been reports, otherwise.

She bit at her nail. She stopped, walked to the throne, and sat down. How did he sit on this for so many years?

Dyrvina looked up when the doors burst open. She stood up. A Stormcloak scout ran towards the throne. Lerke stepped between the scout and Dyrvina. Her hand rested on her sword.

“The war….” He took a deep breath, trying to catch his breath. “Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak has won. The Empire and Thalmor have retreated to Cyrodiil. He….” The scout doubled over and panted. “Apologies, my lady. A letter. From the Jarl. To you.”

Lerke took the letter from the scout and walked to Dyrvina, who stepped down the dais.

Dyrvina looks at the letter. She traced the Stormcloak seal before carefully opening the letter and reading the contents.

Dyrvina found another folded piece of paper. She opened it. A list of casualties from Solitude, from both sides. Divines. Dyrvina felt her eyes water. “Jorleif.” She dabbed the tears in her eyes.

“Aye, my lady.” The steward appeared from the war room. Llaareni followed behind him. She gave Dyrvina a soft smile.

“This is from Ulfric for you. Please.”

The steward walked over and grabbed the paper. He glanced over it and nodded. “We will handle this.” He turned to Llaareni and nodded.

Dyrvina turned back to the scout. “Thank you for your speedy return with such important news. You may rest. The barracks are through that door.” She turned. “Please grab whatever food and drink you need. But please rest.”

“My lady. You should address the city.” Jorleif spoke up.

Dyrvina froze. She messed with the beads of her dress. “Town crier. Get a town crier. Ulfric is better at speeches.” She swallowed. She messed with the bracelet again. She took a deep breath.

“You can do it, Lady Dyrvina. Jarl Ulfric has entrusted you with his duties and the city. You have been doing an exceptional job. This is far too important to leave to a town crier.” Jorleif smiled.

Dyrvina nodded. “Okay…. Aye. I… I don’t have a fraction of Ulfric’s charisma.”

“The people still love you.” Lerke spoke this time. “We will be there.”

She nodded again. “Aye. I’ll try. Should I change? Is this dress okay to wear?” Dyrvina looked around for Maera.

“You always look great, Lady Dyrvina.” Lerke smiled. “It is Stormcloak blue. You wear a bear cloak. You look everything a Stormcloak Queen should look.”

“Llaareni and I will gather the city in the courtyard.” The steward and his assistant hurried out of the Palace.

“Can I even speak loud enough? I don’t have a voice or Thu’um like Ulfric?” Dyrvina wrung her hands. “By Talos. I wish he had just came into the city himself!” She cursed.

Lerke laughed. “Did you not want to take over Dawnstar at one point? And now here you are fretting over your duties.”

“I’ve had the perfect husband in that sense. I have found that I much prefer short term duties over long term. It has been a long month without him. And I have to wait longer. And I can now understand why I grate his nerves. By Talos. I cannot wait until he returns.” She sighed.

“Have you fallen in love with him?” Lerke laughed, knowing the answer.

“Not like that. He is family. And I care about him. I never realized how often I relied on his strength and support since we’ve been apart.” She turned when the doors opened and Jorleif and Llaareni returned. “Well…. I will let Windhelm know the news.”

[nientedenada]

Nobody Loves Ulfric

I’m joking. Quite a lot of people in Skyrim love him, looking at you, Hermir. But one of the most fascinating aspects of Ulfric’s in-game characterization for me has always been the reservations his allies and supporters voice about him. There are some Stormcloak supporters who just idolize the guy, but so many of the prominent Stormcloak supporters in game have critical stuff to say. 

Most prominently, two of the Stormcloak Jarls are very critical.

Dengeir: I'm no man's fool. I know Ulfric Stormcloak's selfish and power-hungry, but he's the devil I know.

and

Laila:  Between you and I, I think his motivations are a bit more self-serving. He uses this holy war as leverage in order to pursue the throne. If he were to be crowned High King, I'm not so certain it would be the golden age his followers expect.

Hilariously, Laila is upset and asking the court wizard if her son Saerlund has been possessed for saying the following:

Saerlund:  "Ulfric only cares about one thing... Ulfric. He's ordained himself the future High King of Skyrim and steps on anyone that gets in his way. He's begun a rebellion against those that wish to eradicate the worship of Talos and uses it as his rallying cry. His cause may be true, but the man is a lie... all he holds in his heart his lust for the throne."

He’s just repeating what his mom said! Her other son is way more circumspect. When Saerlund accuses him of not believing in the Stormcloak cause, he says

I've done what I needed to do keep mother happy. It doesn't matter what I really believe.

The first Stormcloak you meet in game, Ralof, isn’t entirely sure of Ulfric either. 

Ralof: I've heard some things about Ulfric I don't like, but he's right about this war and about Skyrim's future.

Ulfric’s Steward Jorlief is enthusiastic about the war while Ulfric is still alive, but expresses some relief when he’s dead.

Jorleif:  Serving as Steward to Ulfric Stormcloak was a great honor, but I don't miss his temper.

The people of Windhelm make jokes about Ulfric.

Hillevi: "What is it Ulfric's always saying... "On my honor as a Nord, I swear it. Ha ha ha!"  Nilsine: "So serious! Ha ha ha!"

Ulfric’s court wizard says “If Ulfric needs a favour, he has it,” but also

“Does Ulfric have much need for magic?" 

“No, but then I don't have much need for Ulfric. We both leave well enough alone.”

That overall feeling of ambivalence towards Ulfric is why I find the Stormcloak supporters and holds fascinating. The Stormcloaks are a coalition, not a movement of Ulfric worshipers, even if there are a lot of the Ulfric worshippers about. If he’s ever going to reign over Skyrim, he needs to keep a lot of people onside who aren’t very gung-ho about him but think the Thalmor and Empire need to be opposed.

My very personal take is that I don’t think he’s well-suited to hold on to that coalition or rule Skyrim. If he had a really savvy Dragonborn come in to help, that might change because the Dragonborn actually does have wide-spread support. (The really fun Stormcloak victory scenario, though, would be if House Redoran took a practical look at the situation and decided to help prop him up as a barrier state keeping both Thalmor and Empire at bay. Sure, he doesn’t have the best relationship with the Dunmer, but those Morrowind politicians are very practical and as a Morrowind fan I’d root for them getting him to do what they want.)  

[notthatbibble]

Chapter 1 of a Skyrim fic I wrote years ago. Part of me wants to pick it back up because I loved where it was going... but another part just wants to delete it because no one will read it.

Word count: 2k

The gentle sway of the sea and the cold, wintry breeze was what woke me on the ferry.

Groggily I pulled my cloak tighter around my shoulders and cursed the winter air and rocking floor. My past few years living life in the halls of the Mages College had made me somewhat sensitive to the biting cold that Windhelm was permanently immersed in.

Though Winterhold was located far to the north, the College was warm in the halls and walkways, a gift from ages ago bestowed by a mage from a warmer climate who couldn't handle the cold.

        And it had been many, many years since I had lived in cold such as this; far back to my days in Dawnstar when, as a child, I would play in the inlet. Wading in to play with toy boats or as I got older to practice my destruction spells on the small ice blocks that would form around the docked ships.

It had only been a fortnight since I had been in the Arcanaeum, pouring over tomes in front of the fire while sipping wine and enjoying the quiet Urag demanded in his library.

I missed it.

I also missed the steadiness beneath my feet. Going to a new city was not phasing me as much as when there had first been discussion about moving to Windhelm, long before I even stepped foot in the college. But after years the nerves had worn away.

"Aye, Windhelm is just around this bend." My ears perked. Did they just say the words I’d been hoping for all these nights? Sitting straighter I scanned the horizon, my cloak falling slightly down. The cold nipped at my exposed neck and shoulders as a stiff breeze blew my golden hair back. I leaned out as far as I felt safe only to see—rock.

The monolithic structure that was Windhelm was within eyesight! The grey city blended in with the equally grey waters and almost shimmered in the fog that my breath was causing as I beamed with elation.

'Could this ferry move any slower?' I thought impatiently as my insides churned; my hands gripped the seat harder, trying to release newfound energy as I watched the ship dock come closer and closer. Soon enough it was stopped, and the ferryman threw down a small gangplank. Grabbing my pack, I threw it over my shoulder as the ferryman helped me from his small vessel. I was finally in Windhelm.

My legs shook slightly as my feet touched the solid ground for the first time in a couple of weeks, slowly becoming accustomed to the stability of the rock. The cold started seeping through the soles of my boots and a shiver shook my Nordic frame. 'I will get used to this again.' I hoped. Gazing around the dock I felt misplaced as all the sailors worked on finishing the docking and unloading of their ships; scurrying around knowing exactly where they were going. Except one.

A lone man stood over by some crates, looking around all the occupants as they scuttled around until our eyes met. He was an older man with a full moustache, red hat and smiled slightly as he waved one hand at me.

"Me?" I pointed at my chest, which made the man's shoulders shake slightly with a chuckle as he nodded and walked over.

"You must be Marith Snow-Song, correct?" The man asked, a heavy accent coating his words.

"Aye, and you sir?"

He chuckled again. "No need to call me sir. My name is Jorleif, I'm the steward up at the castle. I came down to fetch you for Wuunferth."

I nodded. He turned and started walking towards a set of stairs I would have never noticed. The grey-on-grey of the rock was disorienting. 

Aside from the sound of sailors yelling there was no noise except our feet on the ground, and even the yells became quieter as we rounded the corner to yet another staircase; much taller than the last and it came to an end at a large wooden door.

"So," I started to speak, my breath slightly laboured as I crested the second set of stairs and stopped outside the wooden door. "What can you tell me about Windhelm?"

"Grew up here. Cold as Atmora, but that just grows the beards thicker." Jorleif smiled as we walked inside the gate to surprisingly more stone as he continued. "Lot of history in these walls. We're trying to make some more. It's a lucky time to be alive."

We continued through the surprisingly empty town. "Is- Is it normally so quiet?"

Jorleif kept his gaze forward and stayed silent for a moment. "Aye, this area of town is. Most townsfolk are around the inn and marketplace. Then there-"

He was interrupted by the sound of barrels falling and crashing and some unintelligible shouting. The clanking of armour was soon heard, and the shouting ceased. I craned my neck slightly, trying to sneak a glance, but could see nothing down the roadway.

"Down that way is the Gray Quarter." Jorleif sighed. "It's where all the dark elves in the city reside."

Dark elves weren't uncommon on the docks in Dawnstar, but none lived in town. Whereas at the college there had been more than a few through the years. The ones I had met had been as far from rambunctious as it could get, even after a few tankards of ale they would just stumble off quietly to their beds.

We stood silently for a moment, both of us kind of staring off down the lane before the rabble quieted and Jorleif motioned to keep walking forward. He pointed out the inn as we walked by, giving me a short history lesson as a few townsfolk wandered through. The town was grey and confused me with its winding turns, staircases, and lack of landmarks but as soon as we crested the stairs to the castle, I let out a small gasp.

This massive structure in front of me made me feel... strange. More stone upon stone but it looked never-ending. Two massive wood and metal doors stood higher than I could measure, and Jorleif opened one as easily as you would open a small cellar door.

Inside was a long stone hall, empty of any furniture except for a long table spanning the length and a throne, where I assume the Jarl usually sat, was at the far wall. The Stormcloak colours thrown on banners spanning the hall and a carpet of the same blue and grey surrounded the table. Four slit windows were at the far end surrounding the throne, and a few chandeliers hung from the ceiling over the table, casting enough light to see but not enough that it changed the feeling of coldness and unwelcoming.

Jorleif seemed to sense my unease as we stood in the empty hall. “Jarl Ulfric isn't back yet, but he should be soon. Wuunferth wanted you to head up to see him as soon as you arrived," He steered me towards the first door to my left. "Just up at the top and head as far left as the hallway goes. You can't miss it.”

I gave him a nod in thanks as Jorleif closed the door behind me. Staring straight ahead at yet another set of stone stairs, only this time I was completely alone. Taking a deep breath, I started to climb, nerves becoming more and more apparent as I got closer and closer to my new teachers' room.

No one at the college could tell me much about Wuunferth, aside from telling me his name and that I was going to learn from a master of Destruction. So, I stood outside his door, knowing nothing of what this teacher knew of me, or what he was expecting. 

'What if I'm less adept than he thought?' My stomach turned.

There was no turning back now. Going back to the Mage's College was all but off the table. A cough woke me back to reality to see an older man, much older than Jorleif, standing in front of me. His form seemed feeble, his dark cloak hanging off his body and his hood thrown over his white-grey hair. 

But the aura this man gave off was… unnerving.

"So, you're the new apprentice. Hmm, not much to look at, but let's see if you can do the basics."

"Basics?" I stuttered, nerves still very apparent. Wuunferth grumbled and threw his arms up angrily.

"Yes girl, basics! Can you do any basic spells? Or are you as useless as the last apprentice I was given?"

Nodding, I quickly dropped my bag on the floor and flipped my palms upright. Closing my eyes, I pictured a small orange glow from the right side of my darkened vision, and a small blue glow on the left that jumped and shook in erratic movements. Slow breath in and the two colours expanded; slow breath out and they stayed the same as I opened my eyes to a fairly large fireball resting above my right palm, warm and comforting as it flickered and snapped. Whereas a bright blue ball rested on my left; its small electrical tendrils shot out randomly across and around it. Closing both hands I then effectively extinguished both and quickly opened my palms again, only for the spells to have reversed. I closed them once more to extinguish them.

"Well, it seems you're not useless after all. Quite surprising for a Nord." Wuunferth mumbled. A small smirk of pride flitted across my lips but soon disappeared as the older mage looked over at me. "Wipe that smirk off your face. You achieved the basics, albeit more than my last apprentices achieved, but still only the basics. We have a long way to go before I trust you to be where Ulfric wants you to be."

"Um, I'm sorry?" I stuttered. "What does any of this have to do with the Jarl?"

"You're here to learn to become the next court wizard should something happen to me," Wuunferth stated before turning to his bookshelf and grabbing a small pile of books that he then forced into my chest. Stumbling back slightly, I was trying not to drop the pile as he stacked a couple more on top. "There, that should be enough to keep you out of my hair for a bit. Read these and return once you've finished them."

He grabbed my bag, hanging it haphazardly on my shoulders, turning me quickly which almost sent the pile of reading flying as he pushed me out of his room. "Oh and go talk to Jorleif. He'll show you where your room is." The door slammed behind me.

Letting out a pent-up breath I never knew I had been holding, I then started to balance the pile of books, somewhat precariously, on my right arm as I adjusted my haversack on my back. Then I started off to find Jorleif.

Silently I slipped into the main hall, a shiver shaking up my spine almost making the pile of books tip. Spying the steward sitting on the bench at the end of the hall, nursing a cup of mead, I hurried over. Jorlief looked up as I approached. "Ah, I see Wuunferth has given you quite the amount of homework."

Sheepishly I grinned and nodded. "Yes, and, um, he also said to ask you where I'll be staying."

"Ah yes," Jorleif downed what was in his mug and stood, motioning to follow. We headed towards the doorway behind him that was positioned on the same wall as the hallway to Wuunferth’s quarters. We entered the room, two men standing around a large map of Skyrim that had little red and blue flags dotted across its land. The large bear-like man facing us became instantly quiet and he mumbled something to the other man as we walked through the door to the upstairs, the sound of the two laughing was the last thing we heard before the door shut.

"Pay Galmar no mind. He's an excellent asset for the war, but his people skills aren't nearly as sharp as his blade." Jorleif joked as they stopped outside what was to be my room. "Well, here we are. Normally we'd put you over by Wuunferth but he wanted otherwise. I'll let you get settled."

Thanking him again, I turned to survey my new surroundings. The room itself contained a simple bed, with two end tables on each side and a candelabra atop one of them. A set of bookshelves stood tall against the one stone wall, and a table with two chairs sat nearby the fire, another candelabra on the table. I walked towards the desk, dropping the books down. A soft sigh escaped my lips as a look of relief crossed my face. Everything had finally started to slow down to a more comfortable pace.

'Alright,' I cracked open the first book. 'Time to show Wuunferth just how surprising this Nord can be.'

[esta-elavaris]

Flufftober Day 28: Soothing Touch ~ Ulfric Stormcloak/F!Dragonborn [1,339 words]

My Flufftober '23 masterpost can be found here 💜✨

Elsa prowled into the Palace of Kings with a smirk on her face, a couple of fresh scars, and plenty of new stories to tell. Which was exactly how she liked it. High King Ulfric Stormcloak sat on his throne, with no small number of folk gathered in the hall to seek some favour or another from him, and so she decided he could be forgiven for not noticing her arrival. Galmar, however, did – and his responding chuckle was loud enough to draw Ulfric’s attention, who looked to him, and then followed his gaze to Elsa as she approached.

“Dragonborn,” he greeted, low voice rumbling out above all other voices in the hall.

The merchant he’d interrupted seemed miffed at first, but then he registered what Ulfric had said and all heads whipped around to look at her. She liked that just fine – it made clearing a path to the throne easier. Sauntering forth, she dipped into a half-bow, hand pressed to her chest.

“My king.”

“It’s been some time. There were rumours that you’d been killed,” he considered her slowly.

“Did you believe them?”

He offered a low, reverberating chuckle. “Not a chance.”

Elsa glanced in the direction of the merchant, and then around the crowd gathered who seemed to watch the interaction with bated breath, not wanting to so much as cough lest they miss a word. When she looked back to Ulfric, she found his eyes had not strayed an inch from her.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said.

And she almost sounded apologetic for it.

“Business has run late,” he replied. “But I believe Wuunferth wishes to consult you on some artefact he found.”

A lovely, convenient excuse for her to walk through the war room and up into the living quarters of the palace, right before the eyes of all those here. Elsa smiled. How she’d missed him.

To her credit, she did go to Wuunferth once she’d jogged up the stony steps that led to the sleeping chambers of those chosen enough to live within the palace itself. But only to sell him a few rare, enchanted artefacts she’d come across for a very steep price – and, as she’d suspected, he had nothing to consult her on. By the time she was done, and her pack was a good deal lighter, Jorleif had found her.

“The Jarl has ordered for a bath to be drawn for you, my lady,” he greeted, before adding quietly, “in his chambers.”

Well, she supposed he saw no use in being subtle when it came to servants of his own household.

The bath, kept scalding hot with a few artful fire spells, worked the cold out of her bones and the soreness from her muscles so well that she had only just climbed out of it by the time she heard Ulfric’s voice in the hallway outside. Wrapped in an abundant amount of soft linen, steam rose steadily from her skin as she sat before the fire, content to air-dry as she dragged a comb through her dripping hair.

Finally, the High King of Skyrim slipped into the room, closing and locking the door behind him for good measure. Elsa had just enough energy to feign an unconvincing look of surprise.

“Did I wander into your chambers instead of the guest wing? I do apologise, your majesty. That Jorleif – always up to mischief.”

He chuckled, casting aside his heavy fur-laden coat and then making quick work of the chestplate beneath with an efficiency that belied his haste. Finally, when he was done, he approached, extending one large hand towards her. Elsa grasped it and brought his knuckles to her lips – like a supplicant.

“Stop that,” Ulfric scoffed, wrapping his fingers around hers and hauling her up.

Elsa allowed it, and then she was in his arms – glad he’d disposed of his armour so that she could feel him pressed against her as she dropped the bullshit and wrapped her arms around him. One of his arms remained wrapped tightly about her waist as if fearing she’d run off again the moment he let go, but the other roamed up the curve of her spine, across her bare shoulders and up into her hair, caring not for the water still clinging to her.

All but purring, she melted into the touch, sighing her contentment. Out there, none touched her unless they intended to kill her. It was easy to forget what this was like. Often because she made sure to do so, by force of necessity. Ulfric felt the same, she knew he did, for few ever touched him without wanting something. A kiss on his hand that preceded a beg. Elsa, however, never asked him for anything. He gave her much, that was true, but she never asked for it. She never would.

He was so wrapped up in touching her – making sure she was here, real and warm and breathing, that it seemed to take him a moment to remember to kiss her. It was funny how, upon each reunion, it simultaneously felt like years since he’d last kissed her but also mere seconds, his lips pressing harshly against hers as he stole the air from her lungs.

When they parted, it was only so he could lead her to the bed, although he made no move to unwrap her from her linen, nor remove more of his clothing. The backs of his knees hit the edge of the enormous bed and he sat, pulling her so that she straddled him and then he buried his face in her hair, keeping her there as he held her tightly. Relief washed over her, the same way it would when she drank her first gulp of water after a battle, or had her first bite of food after being forced to go without without for days. Elsa returned the grip fiercely, thinking of little other than that he was here, as she’d pined for in every godforsaken ruin and cave across Skyrim. And that she’d run through any who tried to interrupt them now.

“I forgot what this was like,” she mumbled into his shoulder.

“I must strive to make a more memorable bedfellow,” he remarked drily.

“Not that. This,” she squeezed, to illustrate her point.

“…If you didn’t stay away for so long, it might be easier to remember,” he murmured. “If you stayed, you’d have no chance to forget.”

“You want to install me as your mistress, is that it?”

“The Dragonborn would be a fitting High Queen of Skyrim,” he corrected. “And I could hope for no finer queen than you.”

“I’m not made for queening. For growing soft in a palace, eating that which I did not procure for myself, pretending to care for merchant squabbles.”

“There is more than one way to be a queen, Elsa. Particularly in Skyrim, and especially if you were to be my queen. Unless you think me soft and idle.”

The joke was right there, waiting to be said. A lack of hardness was never one of your problems, or some such nonsense. But to retreat into that would be taken as an insult…and he’d be right to do so. Instead, she sighed quietly and said nothing.

“Am I making progress with my case, then?” he hedged.

“What makes you say that?”

“The first time I broached this matter, you left immediately thereafter and I did not see you for half a year.”

He did not know, and she didn’t tell him, that she’d returned expecting to find him wed off to some truly suitable candidate. Nor did she tell him that she had no idea whether she, at the time, desired or dreaded to find that such had been the case. And she certainly didn’t divulge that she now knew she’d have been sick if it had come to fruition.

“I don’t know,” she admitted quietly, glad he could not see her face.

And Ulfric smiled – because no doubt he heard the temptation in her voice.

Links: AO3 -- FF.net -- flufftober masterpost -- dividers by cafekitsune

[ervona]

7 and 13

I'll answer for Merry since I misread the earlier number 3 and already had one of these in mind :) also hello anon, may be my first one here

7. What social class was your oc born into? Did they change classes at all? How?

very interesting question with her in mind... what she was born into doesn't tell us much since her earliest life can be described as baby bear lost, probably abandoned. the most recent idea I had was that she was left at an orphanage's door, but when she turned they took her out into the woods to get eaten by something bigger. but of her adoptive parents there's already a lot to talk about. papa Llether is a seemingly well-off mer who lived in the Talos Plaza after working for many many decades to get there, ada Vedam needs no introduction, and while Merry is far away from even the memory of duke's court, it very much factors into her upbringing (from the very possibility they had to move across Tamriel to make it easier for her to grow up) how much her dad had left in like the bank of Cyrodiil. but after a leisurely youth she realized she ought to work to help out her dads because it wasn't so easy for them anymore. somewhere in the middle! she has to save up money to take a ride on a ship but she never went hungry

13. Does your oc have any particular rivalry or mutual dislike with any NPC?

Maven who has it out for her poor, sweet, but foolhardy husband... honey and bear go together and yet. I also wanted to say Jorleif but haven't thought about her Blood on the Ice episode in depth. I could just say that in her older age she truly doesn't suffer fools, especially if they're the authorities, and Jorleif is too generically cooperative to any player... I don't think she'd get along with Ulfric's right hand arm man. his silly rabbit. that's it for now, she's my miscellaneous fix-em quest character who hasn't interacted with many npcs even though in theory she interacts with many people as part of her job(s) and is very social. if anyone has rival suggestions for Merry add them here

[juniperberries-canisroot]

Who do you think actually knows our character is the DragonBorn? I don't think it's widely known across Skyrim.

I ask cause I'm playing a new save and really tryin to pay attention to the details. Also in my main save I've only heard the guard dialogue 'you couldn't possibly the DragonBorn of legend, could you?' from WhiteRun guards and maaaybe WindHelm guards. These two very specific cities that both Jarls happen to know we are the DragonBorn.

Jarl Balgruuf knows, since he's the one who tells us about the GreyBeards summoning us. The people present when he says this is Ireleth, Asspacito Pepperoni, Hrongar, maybe Farengar and the maids that work there thou the maids never say anythin about it. I'm not sure that Farengar does either.

Ireleth and some WhiteRun Guards already saw us absorb the dragons soul at the WatchTower. It was actually the guards that suggested we were the DB. I think its possible they could have spread the word amongst the other guards, hence why we get the dialogue.

Hrognar, Balgruuf's brother and bodyguard has additional dialogue after Balgruuf tells us to go to the GreyBeards and calls us the DB.

Delphine SAYS she was at WhiteRun/DragonsReach when we gave Farengar the stone tablet that has all the burial locations on it, but I didn't see her on my main save or my new one. I was purposely looking for her too on my new save. Apparently she's talking to Farengar before we give him the tablet and she's wearing leather armour and a hood, but I don't think I saw her there.

Delphine and Esbern also obviously know since Delphine has been spying on us and we straight up tell Esbern when we find him in the RatWay Vaults.

Ulfric knows somehow cause he directly calls us the DB twice in his normal dialogue options. By extension Galmar could also know since he's always in the court and maybe the Steward Jorleif.

I think I have also heard the guards in WindHelm say the dialogue, thou I'm not too sure.

I would think anyone we recruit into the Blades knows about our characters identity thou I can't find any dialogue that suggests this. She says joining the Blades is a life long loyalty and that their main thing is to kill off the dragons, so maybe the Blades recruits don't actually know.

Obviously the GreyBeards know, as does Alduin, Oddaving, Durenhiivir, Paarthurnax, Mirmulnir and I'm willing to bet all other named dragons and even the generic ones could probably sense we have the dragon blood in us.

Miraak also knows, as does Hermaus Mora, but neither of them are important to the main base game story line. I think Neloth has said somethin before that implies he knows, and when our character does the shout he says somethin like 'yes yes very impressive' but ya know in his sarcastic tone.

I think Kodlak would figure it out if we see him in Sovngarde. Also all the other generic DragonBorn heros in Sovngarde who directly say we share the same honour as them.

Anyone who sees us absorb a dragons soul after battle and knows what that means could also know, like other hold guards, but I'm not counting them or any witnesses, only people who actually know or have called us the DB to our face.

I'm currently not aligned in the war on either save so I don't know if Tullius or Rikke somehow learn we are the DB either.

If you happen to know any other people who know our character is the DB and have actual evidence to back it up, feel free to add on.

[woodworksgeek]

“Lots of history in these walls. We’re trying to make some more. It’s a lucky time to be alive.” – Jorleif

A corner of my woodshop that I love it.

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[incorrectskyrimquotes]

Ulfric: Alright, who broke it. I'm not mad. I just want to know. Ralof: ...I did! I broke th- Ulfric: No. No you didn't. Yrsarald? Yrsarald Thrice-Pierced: Don't look at me. Look at Vignar. Vignar Gray-Mane: What? I didn't break it. Yrsarald: Then how'd you even know it was broken? Vignar: Because it's right in front of us, and it's broken. Yrsarald: Suspicious. Vignar: No, it's not! Balfhe Hard-Heart: If it matters, probably not, but Jorleif was the last person to- Jorleif: LIAR I was nowhere near it! Balfhe Hard-Heart: Oh, really, then what were you doing just now? Jorleif: My JOB as Ulfric's Steward- Ralof: Okay okay let's not fight. I broke it, let me pay to have it fixed, Ulfric- Ulfric: NO. Who broke it?! Vignar: ...Ulfric. Eryn's been awfully quiet. Eryn: REALLY?! Vignar: Yeah, really- [General fighting] Ulfric, to Galmar Stone-fist: I broke it. I got angry with it, and it broke. But I predict that ten minutes from now, they'll have war paint on their faces and their swords in each other's chests. Galmar, glancing into the room: Good. It was getting a little chummy around here.

[nerevar-quote-and-star]

Ulfric Stormcloak: Well, the Dragonborn and I finally did it!

Galmar Stone-Fist: *facepalm*

Jorleif: *claps*

Ralof: *surprised Pikachu face*

Ulfric: That's right . . . we kissed!

[thequeenofthewinter]

Work-in-Progress Wednesday

Somehow I managed to find my writing motivation and wrangle up something for today. Just call me a word cowgirl.

Tagging: @oblivions-dawn @dirty-bosmer @skyrim-forever @ladytanithia @umbracirrus

@theoneandonlysemla @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @bostoniangirl21

@vivifriend @tallmatcha @hircines-hunter

No matter how much the King and Queen try to shake their sense of foreboding, it follows them back all the way to Windhelm. That is the trouble with knowledge. What is known cannot be unknown, and as much as they would both like to go back in time and shut Apocrypha’s box, it opens before them like the yawning jaws of a depthless well. Neither of them can see the bottom, and neither of them knows just how far it goes. Ulfric in particular would drown in it if not for his wife reminding him of the present.

Ever since their return home Dahlia has noticed the steadily increasing anxiety of her husband, the way he picks at his fingernail beds until they bleed, the way he can’t seem to sit still anywhere, and especially how he wakes in the middle of the night to stare into apparently blank space. She worries about him deeply, her preoccupations following her everywhere as if a living thing with a mind of its own. It matters not how many times he tells her he is fine.

They sit at dinner, and Ulfric smiles at her as he takes her hand from under the table. Do not worry about me. I am fine. He holds her tenderly as he makes love to her in the middle of the night, whispering how much he loves her. Do not worry about me. I am fine. He stops in the halls to steal kisses from her even under the eyes of councilors, honored guests, Galmar, Jorleif, Yrsarald. It matters not to him. Do not worry about me. I am fine. It is sweet, but his affection also has a desperate edge as he tries to cling to her as if she will disappear like smoke underneath his fingertips. 

When he acts like this, how can she not worry? Elenwen’s son is under their roof, and she can sense the torment Ulfric feels even if he will not show it to her.

[blossom-adventures]

Happy Birthday, Winter!

This is a birthday present for @thequeenofthewinter who has been so lovely and supportive of me and my writing since I started sharing it.

Winter, Happy Birthday! I hope you have a lovely day full of love and hugs!

I’m so happy I’ve got to know you and you deserve all the love and support you get, I hope you have a good day and enjoy what I’ve done for you, it’s a long one so I’ve put it under a “read more” (I had a good idea and ran with it ☺️ also I hope I wrote Dahlia alright, it’s my first time writing someone else’s OC)

💙😘🎂

Mara’s Light

Dear Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak, thank you for getting in touch with me, as much as I would love to help you with a birthday present for Dahlia, the only copy of ‘Mara’s Light’ that we have in the library is a first edition print that cannot and will not leave the Arcanaeum. However I have heard rumours of ancient tomes being locked away in Shalidor’s Maze, I would recommend looking there for a copy, the author was a research fellow of Shalidor after all. I can also recommend a member of the Companions for you too, I have hired her in the past to collect books for me, I’m sure she would be more than willing to help you. Best of luck, Urag Gro-shub, curator of the Arcanaeum in the College of Winterhold.

Ulfric sighed as he set the letter down on the arm of his throne, it had been 5 weeks since the Companion had left on this job, Dahlia’s birthday was tomorrow and he had nothing to give her.

“Jorleif”

“My lord?”

“If that Companion doesn’t return by tomorrow, I’ll need you to run to Ilse’s bakery to get some danishes, it’ll be better than nothing after all”

“Of course my lord, but you mustn’t lose hope, that Companion has done jobs for me throughout the war, she’s reliable, she’s probably on her way back now”

“Or… she’s lying dead in Shalidor’s Maze, you saw how nervous she looked when I told her where to go”

“She’s a Companion of Whiterun, Ulfric, I’m sure she is more than capable of doing this job”

“It’s too close for my liking, with Dahlia’s birthday tomorrow,” Ulfric sighed “I wanted it to be special… Gods know she deserves it”

The next day, Dahlia’s birthday. Ulfric was pacing, Dahlia would be down from their room any moment now. He looked down at the plate of danishes on the table, and cursed under his breath, still no sign of the Companion or the book he had sent her to retrieve.

“Ah, good morning, my love!” He froze as he heard Dahlia’s voice behind him, “are you alright?” She asked as she approached him, he turned to greet her with a warm smile and a kiss on the lips

“Good morning my love, happy birthday”

“Thank you” Dahlia looked down to the table “oooh! Danishes!” She smiled brightly as she picked up one of them, her smile faded slightly as she saw Ulfric’s, he looked sad, maybe a little annoyed “Ulfric, what’s wrong?” He sighed

“My gift for you hasn’t arrived yet” he huffed “I was hoping it would, but…” Dahlia stopped him with a kiss

“Ulfric, you didn’t need to get me anything”

“No, but I wanted to, you deserve it, my Queen”

“Jarl Ulfric!” A woman’s voice came from the doors of the palace, both Dahlia and Ulfric looked over to see a woman in her mid 30’s with black hair and reddish-brown eyes, she was wearing thick leather armour, in her arms was a large item wrapped in tanned leather.

“Companion!” Ulfric approached “you cut it fine, I was worried something had happened, is that it?”

“It is, I’m sorry it’s late I got… delayed” she explained as she handed the package to him

“Delayed?” Ulfric looked a little concerned, the Companion shook her head

“It’s… complicated, could I explain to you later my lord?”

“Of course, Jorleif will arrange the rest of your pay”

“Thank you” the Companion bowed and made her way over to the steward, Ulfric saw she was carrying a limp that she didn’t have when she left Windhelm 5 weeks ago

“Are you hurt, Companion?” He called after her

“It’s nothing my lord, I was going to the Temple of Talos once I had delivered the gift” Ulfric nodded to her before returning to Dahlia.

“Happy birthday, my love” he said as he gave her the present, she opened it and was left nearly speechless

“Oh… Ulfric…” Dahlia ran her hand along the intricate cover, Mara’s Light was carved into the leather binding “how did… Urag would’ve never parted with his copy”

“It isn’t his, I had the Companion there retrieve this copy for me” he said, nodding towards the armoured woman who was still talking to Jorleif. “And you deserve it, Dahlia. Before you say it’s too much, nothing is too much for you” he kissed her again

“I’ll have to thank you properly for this later”

“Will you?” Ulfric gave her a smirk, Dahlia kissed him on the cheek before walking over to the Companion

“Companion, what’s your name?”

“Jaina, my lady” she said with a bow

“Thank you, I’ve wanted a copy of that book for a while now” Jaina shrugged

“I’m glad I was able to help get it for you then,” she sounded a little embarrassed, it made Dahlia wonder how much gratitude the Companions would normally get when they completed a job

“Will you stay for the party tonight? Lydia and Ulfric have something planned but they won’t tell me what” Dahlia said with a glance over her shoulder to Ulfric, who acted ignorant to what she meant, Jaina went red in the face.

“I… I’d be honoured, of course, but I have nothing else to wear, and I need to see the Jarl about something… and I need to get my leg sorted at the temple and…” Jaina tripped over her words as she spoke, Dahlia held up her hand to stop the Companion

“Please, as a thank you for getting this book for me, I insist” Jaina looked a little lost for words for a moment before finally nodding

“Who am I to refuse the future High Queen”

“Excellent, come back tonight then, go and get your leg seen to, Ulfric will be gone for awhile anyway”

“Will I?” He asked as Dahlia walked back over to him and whispered something into his ear “alright, Jorleif, I’m… needed elsewhere for a while, I’ll be back later.” The steward rolled his eyes as Dahlia took her book in one hand and Ulfric’s hand in the other, leading him back towards their private chambers.