#oh ulfric | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

greyborn2 · 9 months ago

Note

Elisif headcanons now! (friendly tone ofc <3) Why do you think she would be a good marriage candidate? I'm curious :)

Yesssss!!! Okay - so this boils down to two categories. Personal interest in it, and underrated narrative JUICE. Starting with the former because its easier to begin with. So Elisif is just... she's neat. She's simultaneously one of the most politically important people in skyrim while also being COMPLETELY overshadowed by the men around her (Nobody talks about her, really, they talk of Torygg. The civil war isnt her vs ulfric, its TULLIUS vs ulfric. Her own decisions in court the first time we even see her are seemingly overruled on a dime by her own court, by Falk.). Its like she's this big thing of incredible importance and is constantly hidden away both in narrative and in game. But despite that, if you actually sneak in a bit, ignore all the big figures standing in front of her and propping themselves up on top of her, she has a surprising amount of meat to her.

Most of the Jarls are like... a few word summary at best. Greedy idiot boy, honourable honorman, paranoid bigot, old seer, etc etc etc. You get an initial impression of them and thats kinda it. Ulfric has a lot more, obviously, because he's a major character but it would *SEEM* that Elisif should be on the lower end of content. It takes so much to seek her out in her overshadowed little corner after all, but she has so so so much surprising stuff around her. The necromancer potema plot revolves around her, a whole big dialogue tree that isnt super common to see for a jarl, some touching personal quests that go into detail about how she saw her late husband. Its just all super compelling to me to have a character that, despite being so important, is *soooo* hidden away actually have some meat to her. Plus she's just a nice person!!! ANYWAYS!! PART 2!! The JUICE!!

For starters, I think, there should just be more opportunities for the dragonborn to play the political game if they want. Beyond just choosing a side in a war or ticking off their 'thane of everywhere' list, actually getting in on climbing the ladder and enmeshing oneself with the politics of the land they're in. BUT BUT... same can be said for Ulfric. Absolutely true. I do think he should also be a marriage candidate. BUT...

I think Elisif PARTICULARLY makes sense as a marriage opportunity that isn't one you seek out, but one that is put forward to the player. Specifically with an Imperial victory in the civil war.

The war is won. Alduin MAY or MAY NOT be slain. But either way, no matter what, at this point the dragonborn is a war hero, a champion of the people, and decorated imperial legate. And this would be fucking FRIGHTNING, I think, to the politicians back in Cyrodiil. There's a *history* of war hero dragonborns, popular with the people, turning on their commanders and declaring themselves emperor afterall. Oh boy is there a precedent. Suddenly they're the big figure in a war that was supposed to be Tullius' duty and they might start sweating in their boots a little.

SO... after the war is won... the legion starts... pushing. Just a little. A few letters, a few comments, that the dragonborn should maybe marry Elisif. Become High King by marriage. Lock them in and satisfy the war hero with a political title off in the ass end of the empire before they turn their gaze toward a ruby throne. Don't give them time to think on it. Ooooh look tasty treat right here shhhh dont think yes you did very good dragonborn yes yes be high king.

I think from there it could go one of three ways;

1) Last Dragonborn marries Elisif but with her actually agreeing to the union (after completing her personal quests) and she FINALLY steps out of the shadows. Rather than the expected you using her for power, she uses YOU for power. You allow yourself to be the thing she props herself up on and finally really starts coming into public view. Maybe to the nervousness of the Empire as she's a less eager puppet then they might have thought, now.

2) Last Dragonborn falls right into the trap the empire placed. You didnt do the quests for Elisif, she remains in the shadows, there's a loveless marriage and you get to be satisfied with a big title that hopefully keeps you occupied.

3) Last Dragonborn refuses all of this. Things seem to proceed as they do in canon but... well... maybe you notice a few more non-DB assassins using imperial weapons attacking you on the road then you did before. Curious.

#anyway. Longpost but a fair summary of thoughts #I just think its NEAT #I know if I ever wrote a headcanon last dragonborn fic this is the direction I'd take it #specifically with ending 1 #but yea #elisif the fair #tes #the elder scrolls

74 notes · View notes

moodcrab · 4 months ago

Text

The Skyrim Opening Makes No Sense!

YouTube has recently been recommending a lot of people playing Skyrim for the first time, mostly from channels by young people exploring very old games... BETHESDA! This means for the first time in a decade I've watched the Skyrim vanilla opening over and over and... Well I guess I never really thought about it in detail. Before I started modding it was just something tedious to get past... But watching it retrospectively along with commentary from a fresh point of view I've noticed that the Skyrim Intro Makes No Sense!

So we wake up on the cart next to Ulfric, a man who is gagged because he can literally murder people with his voice... But all our hands are bound in front of us... Just like, take the gag off dude. Like it sucks that apparently that bit of cloth is more powerful than the Thu'um, but you could just reach up and take it out of your mouth, fuck we'll help you if it's at an awkward angle or whatever, this is literally all our lives and your whole rebellion at stake, that's all.

General Tulius is here, meeting up with the Thalmor that he totally trusts, that's totally not sus that they knew to be here at all... Makes you wonder why he didn't just execute Ulfric on the spot as soon as he was caught doesn't it? It's not like he's giving Ulfric a trial or anything, as far as the Empire is concerned Ulfric is guilty. Tulius for some reason just decided to bring Ulfric to a town to execute him, not even the nearest town to where he was caught either. Did he want witnesses? Ok just leave a handful of Stormcloaks alive, they aren't going to lie about seeing Ulfric beheaded.

Nevermind we're here now, quickly, kill Ulfric and bring a swift end to this mess... After I make a little speech. And after this priestess makes a little speech. And after we execute this nobody Stormcloak. And after we execute the random in the rags who we aren't even sure is guilty of anything. Why are we here again?

Oh yeah, we were "caught crossing the border" right? Take a deep breath before we delve into this hole that Bethesda dug for itself for literally no reason; baring in mind that in all previous games where you begin as a prisoner they never explicitly say why you are a prisoner. What crime are you accused of, are you guilty or innocent, that was all your headcannon and Skyrim needn't have been any different. So... Exactly what border were we caught illegally crossing?

Well, there are numerous examples of the game implying or outright stating that the player character is not from Skyrim, even if you choose to play a Nord. Every race specific response from Hadvar, for example, or when Galmar asks why an outsider would want to join the Stormcloaks. So you definitely crossed a national border... The only problem is, as Ralof confirms, the Imperial ambush happened at Darkwater Crossing, a location that is nowhere near a national border. Helgan is in fact closer to the border than Darkwater Crossing, but that doesn't matter because, as Tulius and the Fort Nugart Note confirmes, the border to Cyrodiil is snowed in, hence his recruiting locally and not relying on Imperial reinforcements.

The only border that Ralof could possibly be talking about is the Eastmarch-Rift border, both Holds that are Stormcloak territory, so why the Imperial Legion would care about someone random crossing it I don't know. And even if they weren't Stormcloak Holds, as we all know from actually playing the rest of the game, crossing Hold borders isn't illegal. In fact it actually erases your wanted level.

Again, nobody forced Bethesda to make it cannon that The Last Dragonborn was caught crossing a border they physically couldn't have crossed, illegally, despite the fact it isn't illegal. It's literally one line of dialogue, this was entirely avoidable.

What's that bone chilling roar? IT'S NOTHING! Hurry up and kill this obviously not a rebel (before Ulfric, the actual terrorist). It's fair to say they couldn't have guessed that that noise was coming from a dragon, but to assert that it's nothing!? With those oh so trustworthy Thalmor just down the street? Yeah probably nothing, keep Ulfric at the bottom of the list. Gods I fucking love damn lists!

Well it turns out that the terrifying roar didn't just come from absolutely nothing. It in fact came from absolutely something. Nobody could have foreseen this. The something it absolutely was, is a dragon, and in the chaos Ulfric somehow got away. Again, nobody could have foreseen this, in fact it's pretty much the opposite of what Tulius was going for here.

In our desperate escape we run straight past two giant city gates because Tulius ordered us to use the unnecessarily labyrinthian, giant-spider infested escape route through the keep that's literally collapsing on us instead.

We get a choice, go with Ralof, a fellow prisoner who has risked his life to save ours, or Hadvar, someone who was perfectly willing to kill us knowing full well we were innocent, but he feews weelly bawd abowd id 🥺. Fuck off Hadvar, you "just following orders, I'll pay your corpse more respect than your life, torture is a necessary evil" bitch! And fuck this opening for not letting me skip anything! I may not be a big fancy "great American novel" writer like Emil Pagliarulo, but still I think this could have used a second draft.

#skyrim #elder scrolls #elder scrolls memes #elder scrolls morrowind #skyrim memes #tes 5 skyrim #the elder scrolls #tes 6 #elder scrolls v #tes 4 oblivion #skyrim ulfric #skyrim criticism

31 notes · View notes

hircines-hunter · 4 months ago

Text

2024 wrap up

I’ve had so many tag me… I’ll try to remember them all sorry if I forget you! @thequeenofthewinter @moriche @sanza-17 @fangsandsoftgrass @sulphuricgrin @pocket-vvardvark @theoneandonlysemla @madamefluffnstuff I think! That’s everyone! Thank you so much for the tags. I sat deciding if I wanted to do it because I did the art wrap up and word wrap up….. but here! I’m not tagging anyone else bc I’ve seen so many others already finish it lol 😆

Rules: it’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 (or so) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought to the world in 2024. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

1. Roar of a Wolfborn - my long fic about Sifkni and her angsty adventures being a werewolf and Dragonborn. Lots of hurt/comfort from Farkas. Technically I started in September 2023 but I wrote most of it in 2024 and finished it. It’s been my pride and joy. And finishing it!? Thank goodness…. Lol after 10+ years of writing Sifkni. And 13 years since I made Sif? It’s about time!

2. Hunt of the Blood Moons - this is a sequel to ROAW. Continued adventures with Sifkni and the Hunt called on her by Lord Hircine. Less angst; but kind of there. Sifarkas continue to be grossly in love but now they’re covered in blood and/or naked the entire fic.

3. Sivaas - Estinan was part of Sifkni’s pack before all the events that led to their demise. Estinan goes to before and gets caught up in Thieves Guild and a certain Thief’s arms. Estinan was a late addition to Sifkni’s plot and was supposed to die, but I loved her too much.

4. Fury of a Tundra Wolf - Thea. Oh my dear Thea. I am sorry for everything I put you through. I’m sorry I tried to put you with Ulfric. But you are with Galmar now. Equally as angry bear. :3c

5. Blood Moons cover - please note this version is different than the one posted on tumblr lol. I haven’t updated the other version yet.

#2024 wrap up

22 notes · View notes

vehksfingerguns · 17 days ago

Text

WIP WEDNESDAY

Oh boy, I've been contented out lately. Chapter 4 really took it out of me, so I've got nothing for Chapter 5 yet. So have a snippet for something that will actually be part of the next installment Bury Me (meaning the second fic that I'm planning). Warning: it's very roughly written. I make no promises about how good this is. Tagged by @labskeever and @changelingsandothernonsense. I'll tag @starryeyedagony @fezy626 and anyone else who wants to do this!

“DOWN WITH ULFRIC, THE KILLER OF KINGS…” Around the tables, the crowd of tavern goers raised their flagons, cheerfully singing along with the bard as she belted out the next line. “ON THE DAY OF YOUR DEATH, WE WILL DRINK AND WE’LL SING!” “You’re already singing,” Rathas muttered from the bar as the chorus of voices echoed off the stone walls of the Skeever. He’d lost count of how many times he’d heard the Breton Lisette whine out the same words over and over again the last couple of days, and of how many times drunk patrons of the inn had joined her for their own rousingly slurred renditions. At this point, the Dunmer thought he might just happily walk into a Stormcloak bar, if only for a little bit of variety. Fortunately, Corpulus and Sorex seemed to take pity on him – or maybe even sympathized – and continued to supply him with what seemed to be an endless well of ale. It was a courtesy Rathas was all too happy to take them up on.

“Better her than that menace down at the docks,” the familiar voice quipped as the man settled onto the stool next to Rathas. “No idea what Mikaela at the Fo'c'sle is paying her but whatever it is… it’s too much." Despite his efforts, the elf snorted and glanced over at the newcomer to the bar. Val Serano sat, big and blonde and irritatingly handsome, wearing an expression that was both amused and tentative, like he was ready to move on from their last encounter, but wasn't quite sure how. The quiet that passed between them was brief though, Val turning his attention toward the inn's owner behind the counter. "Hey Vinius—A round for me and your best patron here?”

“Sure thing,” the brunette replied, pausing his cleaning to duck below the counter for a moment before popping back up empty handed. “Hang on. I gotta bring some up from the stores. Give me a minute.”

As Sorex disappeared down the stairs at the other end of the bar leaving the two of them alone at the counter, the pirate turned to him, one gold brow lifted curiously.

“Serious question,” he started, even as the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth betrayed his words. “Do you do anything else besides hold up walls in this place?”

The Dunmer rolled his eyes before fixing his tired gaze on his former companion.

“So now you’re spying on me?” he countered, his own mouth twisting up into a wry smirk. “You know, if you’re that bored, I hear a pirate captain had their ship stolen recently…”

This time, it was Val’s green eyes that narrowed.

“I’m not spying!” he snapped defensively as Vinius returned, setting down their ale bottles in front of them before raising an eyebrow of his own, as if wordlessly asking if there was trouble brewing between the two men. Waving the innkeeper off, Rathas watched as Val snatched up his ale bottle and pulled a long drink from it, finally setting the amber glass down on the counter with an audible and irritated thud as he turned his glare on him.

“I'm not spying," he repeated, though for his own benefit or for Rathas, the Dunmer wasn't sure. "I already told you… the bard down at the Fo'c'sle is terrible. Plus, they water down the drinks.”

“Uh huh,” the elf jeered.

Val bristled next to him. “You know what?” he started, shifting on his stool again as he stood up from his seat. “This was a bad idea. I thought—” But whatever it was, the sailor shook it off, hitting him with a withering look of anger mixed with disappointed instead.

“Nevermind. Drinks are on you,” he growled before he turned on his heel to stride toward the door.

That guilt that had been gnawing at Rathas’s insides since their last meeting surged up in him again, leaving behind what felt like a rock in the pit of his stomach in its wake as he watched the long, broad line of Val’s back heading toward the front of the Skeever. He knew if he didn’t say something… anything, at this point… that there wouldn’t be another chance. Val would move on and Rathas would become just another person not worthy of trust and friendship that -- despite all of his initial misgivings -- it was clear the other man wanted to give.

Turning himself around to face the front door of the Skeever, the elf called after him.

“Val, wait…”

The pirate paused, waiting for him to continue, but did not bother turning to face him. The lack of acknowledgement stung, but given everything that had unfolded between them so far, Rathas supposed he had earned that bit of disrespect.

He swallowed his pride and pressed on with his apology.

“I’m sorry.”

#wip wednesday #tes fanfic #dunmer oc #val serano #oc; rathas telvayn #cvf; val serano #otp; bury me to the sound of your name

13 notes · View notes

umbracirrus · 3 months ago

Text

Sujamma Sundas

Tagged in this by @skyrim-forever, and I will take literally any excuse to ramble on about my idiots <3

This week, Sujamma wants to know about YOUR OC's special someone. What makes their relationship special? How did they meet? Were they enemies to lovers? Lovers to enemies? Lovers AND Enemies? Are they romantic or platonic? What's their favorite way to cuddle? Favorite date night? Anything and everything you can think of 💕

Tagging @thequeenofthewinter, @hircines-hunter. @illumiera, @friend-of-giants, anyone else who wants to do this <3

As I said, of course, I'm going to talk about my idiots Elyse and Balgruuf-!!

These have their first meeting, as is typical for many dragonborn and the Jarl of Whiterun, with Elyse going to Dragonsreach to seek aid for Riverwood on the behest of the town residents. Elyse hurts herself on the journey there though, so rather than immediately sending her to Farengar and Bleak Falls Barrow, he sends her to the Temple of Kynareth to be healed and pays for a meal and a room at the Bannered Mare, asking for her to return after she has rested to do that favour. To be completely honest, Balgruuf has already started falling for her at this point. This survivor of Helgen, with little to her name, putting her life at risk to protect his people and asking for nothing in return? And she's pretty? And she's the damned Dragonborn?!?! Making her Thane of the city and giving her the axe of Whiterun is basically flirting with the way that he's giving her heart eyes, even if he doesn't realise or think of it as such.

So yeah, main quest happens, he remains a stalwart ally of hers through it all, is over the moon(s) that she decides to buy Breezehome, and lingers on the Dragonsreach porch for ages after she flies off to defeat Alduin. Then when he hears that she's returned, he doesn't wait for her to visit him in Dragonsreach, he goes to find her to check up on her. These idiots get drunk, dance, almost kiss, and don't remember any of it. Only Lydia does.

Elyse meanwhile, she starts falling for Balgruuf bad when he defends her from Ulfric, allows her to stay in Dragonsreach, does everything in his power to keep her safe. She's in denial about it for ages, at least until she gets teased about it by Lydia, then it hits her like a tonne of bricks that she's down bad.

From there, they are both just... oh, they are pining. They are pining bad. The majority of Whiterun seems to think that they are already together, so when they finally get together...? It's not a surprise for the people of the city (though it is for people beyond, who had no idea just how painful their pining was). Hrongar likely had some sort of bet going on with Irileth, Lydia, and other people in Dragonsreach about how long it takes for them to finally kiss and/or sleep together.

The thing is, when these two are together, as soon as behind closed doors they are completely sappy and affectionate. Holding hands, cuddling, the works. And they are sentimental. They get engaged exactly four years after their first meeting, for example. Balgruuf takes interest in her hobbies of gardening and alchemy for her, and Elyse likes to listen to him read history books aloud simply because he likes them and she likes his voice.

And nobody dares interrupt them when they are on the balcony atop Dragonsreach, that is their place, their sanctuary from their responsibilities, and Divines forbid somebody interrupt their intense make out session/stargazing/cuddle time out there.

Even better about their relationship is that Elyse gets along well with each of Balgruuf's children, and Balgruuf appreciates it beyond belief - she somehow manages to help with bringing them closer together whereas in the past they ended up quite distant, even more so when the idiots have their daughter Aina after being married for a few years.

#meg is rambling #sujamma sundas #dragonborn oc elyse #balgruuf x dragonborn #god..... my idiots..... i love them................ there's so much more I could say but i'm going to keep it brief for spoilers' sake >:3 #because something fun is going to happen with their relationship in my fic but it hasn't happened yet hehehe.......#i've posted about it on here before but only very sparingly lol

12 notes · View notes

animatorweirdo · 1 month ago

Text

When The Dragons Fly (Book 6)

After the dragon's rejection of your offer, you are at a dead end and feel overwhelmed for not being able to find other solutions. You then turn toward Helena for advice, and she helps you see a new way to solve the issue.

Chapter 5

Warnings: you feeling overwhelmed, and Helena being helpful in social situations.

----------------------------------------------

The days that followed could not have been more troublesome. You tried to figure out how to convince the she-dragon to take your offer, but none of your ideas sounded good or something that would allow you success. You even considered taking Helena to meet the dragon as she was talented at making friends and convincing them to do something, but of course, that idea was too desperate – even by your standards.

You asked Kevhran to keep an eye on the River Thalos. You instructed him to focus on the orc activity and stay at a safe distance from the caves to avoid agitating the she-dragon. So far, things had been calm.

Then Ulfric sent a letter, inquiring about your progress in handling the dragon issue. Baelen kept asking about training new men to scout and defend the village. Deanna and Torim’s wife came to you with updates on the development of trade goods. You were being overwhelmed with things demanding your counsel and attention, leaving you little time to focus on the current issue.

And since you could not find a solution to your current problem, you couldn't use your head to solve others.

Your mind has been worked up so much that the mountain hall has begun to feel suffocating, so you decide to take a walk to clear your head.

Watching people go with their days gave you some ease. You could see Aelon and Eweniel studying in Eda’s shop. Dwenn mentoring and overseeing the village’s new building project, and Helena and her mother doing laundry.

When Helena saw you, she gave you one of her usual smiles.

“Hey, (Name). What’s the foul face for?” she asked.

You shrugged your shoulders. “Nothing too trivial. It had been a long day, and I can’t find a solution to this one problem,” you explained.

“Oh?” she brushed her hands together after setting up a shirt on the string to dry, giving you her attention. “Perhaps I could help. What's the problem?” she asked.

You considered it for a moment. The old idea resurfaced, now taking on a new form. Perhaps this desperate notion could offer some insight into your problem.

“Perhaps you could—” you said. “It’s technically a people type of problem.”

“Ohh. I’m good with people. What is it?” Helena grinned.

“I need to gain someone’s trust,” you started. “Someone who has never lived among other people before and finds it impossible to trust them due to a bad past. What should I do?” you asked.

“Hmm…someone who has never lived among other people and finds it impossible to trust them due to a bad past. Let me think…” Helena murmured thoughtfully.

“Do they have a family to look out for?” she asked.

“Yes, and I have offered my help, but they refused,” you nodded.

“On the first try?” she asked.

“Yes,” you nodded.

“Then the answer is quite simple--- be persistent.” Helena shrugged her shoulders.

“I…” you said, baffled by her answer. “...do not quite follow,” you finished.

“I mean, keep meeting this person and offer your help. Let them get comfortable with you, and in their direst time of need, they know they can come to you for help,” Helena explained.

“What if this person’s troubled past keeps them from accepting my help?” you asked.

“Talking about it could help. Some people want their stories to be heard, and they become more comfortable when they have a chance to open up about it,” Helena answered.

“Be persistent and understanding. That’s what I did with you,” she smiled.

You looked at her, confused.

She chuckled when she saw your expression, like you had forgotten something simple.

“Had you not noticed that you and this person are quite alike?” she asked.

“I…” you were at a loss for words.

“Oh, goodness! Have you forgotten that you were exactly like this person when you first came to our village?” Helena asked with a grin while focusing on her chore.

“You wouldn’t talk to any of us. You didn’t trust any of us to take care of Aelon, and you rejected the help offered until you became too overwhelmed and finally came to us for help,” Helena explained. “I believe you even hissed at us a couple of times,” she chuckled.

“You were like an overprotective, grumpy cat with its kitten,” she said.

“Uhm…” you murmured, slightly embarrassed by the comparison. However, you couldn’t help but see the similarity.

“I… hadn’t thought of it that way,” you said.

“Now put yourself back in that place, and think how you would have helped your younger self out of that place,” Helena guided.

Your mind ran through scenarios on how you could have helped your younger self out of the mistrust you felt all those years ago and accept the help rather than wait to be overwhelmed by the responsibility of taking care of Aelon when he was a baby.

You then saw yourself in the she-dragon. She possessed scars left by shackles, and judging from her guarded and aggressive behavior toward you, she was most likely mistreated in her birthplace, thus the deep mistrust toward you and humans.

She was alone in the world, trying to protect her young from those who mistreated her in her former home. Afraid and believing she can't trust anyone.

“I see…” you answered, the fog in your mind having been finally dispelled.

“Thank you, Helena. I think I know what to do,” you said and walked back toward the mountain hall.

“You’re welcome. Do let me meet this person once you’re done!” Helena called out while you kept walking, more certain what to do to gain the she-dragon’s trust.

Taglist: @natchayaphorn@kimnamnu@thatrandomidiot182 @springfountain @maedhrosiseverything2me

#silmarillion x reader #silmarillion #tolkien #silm fic #middle earth x reader #when the dragons fly #hotd x reader #hotd #middle earth #silmarillion imagines #various x reader #targaryen reader #silmarillion x targaryen reader #maedhros x reader

8 notes · View notes

incorrectskyrimquotes · 1 year ago

Note

I just checked AO3 and there are only 9 works with the relationship tag Ulfric Stormcloak/Tullius. Congrats, its a rarepair

oh i know. its me and like one other person who unironically like this.

i just think they deserve each other

40 notes · View notes

thevoiceofthebard · 6 months ago

Text

Chapter 1 - Ulfric I: Unbound

Sundas, 17th of Last Seed. 4E201 Early Morning

Ulfric Stormcloak

I am Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm. Student of the Greybeards of High Hrothgar. Leader of the Revolution of the Sons of Skyrim.

And this is the day of my death.

Today, I leave the mortal plane behind, to join my brothers and sisters in Sovngarde. I can only hope the gods forgive the transgressions I have committed in pursuit of justice. But then the timing of the Imperial ambush that leads us now to our deaths was so perfect... Perhaps the gods have abandoned us. Although I find treachery a far more likely explanation.

Our carriage jumps around as we pass over a pothole, pulling me away from my thoughts. I look around, curiosity getting the better of me. From the multitude of pine trees around me, I know we're somewhere in the Hold of Falkreath. Nature flourishes in the south of Skyrim - mountain flowers, nightshade, and thistle abundant, deer grazing at the edge of the deep shade of the woods - but I confess it holds less grandeur for myself compared to some of my brethren. My childhood was filled with grand stone walls, surrounded by frozen tundras and volcanic fields. The Throat of the World towers above us, throwing dark shadows for miles, making the morning seem darker than it should. An ominous sign. No doubt the Greybeards still harbor resentment toward me for abandoning my studies at its peak. But no amount of meditation would cool the fire in my veins, could never satisfy my need to protect my homeland, when the call to battle came so long ago. I often wonder how the world would be had I remained a disciple of The Way of the Voice.

Another jolt. Poorly maintained roads. No doubt a result of Jarl Siddgeir diverting funds to the Empire, against me. A groan draws my attention in close to my fellow cart mates - and prisoners. Across from me, a man in rags. A thief by the look of him, and a coward. He's done naught but complain the last hour. Next to him sits a man in my own colors. Ralof, if I remember correctly. Yes... A passionate young man, though somewhat unremarkable. I want to speak, reassure him. But the cloth in my mouth prevents me from doing anything but breathe, and even that takes effort. Beside me is another man in rags. Unlike the thief, though, he has an aura of culture about him. Beneath the recent bruising and dirt, his face is angular, his hair groomed; even after being tossed unconscious into the cart with us. In the wrong place at the wrong time, and now the Empire will surely punish him for it. Bastards.

The three have been bickering while I mused. I hadn't noticed until Ralof mentioned my name, startling the others. "Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion!" I'm not sure to be flattered or insulted that the thief didn't recognize my face. Panic enters the man's voice as he realizes the severity of his situation; I doubt he will make it anywhere near the headsman's block. "But if they've captured you... Oh gods, where are they taking us?"

Ralof's words echo my thoughts. "I don't know where we're going. But Sovngarde awaits."

I lose interest as the soldier begins comforting the distraught thief. The other prisoner - a Breton by the name of Talao, I learn as Ralof asks - is handling the situation far better than I would have assumed, though he keeps glancing at me questioningly. Though something about his quiet confidence interests me, I ignore him in favor of watching the road ahead. All too soon, I see our destination. Helgen. Of course; there's an Imperial bastion here. I can hear the sounds of a bustling town slowly waning as our procession enters. Imperial archers line the walls, obviously dying to loose their arrows into any foolish enough to take off.

"Look at him," I hear Ralof spit, "General Tullius, the military governor." The military fop; he interests me not. "And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn Elves." Though his words are heated, they turn the blood in my veins to ice. I turn, and sure enough, next to Tullius sits an Altmer in pitch black clothes. Elenwen, of all people.

Shor save us. What is that Thalmor bitch doing here?... Her presence can't possibly be coincidence. Have the Thalmor finally decided to clean up loose ends? Is she here to ensure my death, or are her machinations more devious? Through it all, I refuse to back down from her damned condescending sneer. I return her smug stare with venom. You don't own me, elf. You never have.

Finally, the carts come to a stop. The horse thief is hyperventilating now, and rambling in terror. I honestly want to punt the coward out of the cart, but it's beneath my dignity. My men look to me for composure. I must be above such pettiness. I notice the other prisoner tumble out of the cart with a cry of pain after me. I notice, as Ralof helps him up, that his leg seems oddly twisted, as if deformed. An old wound, then. Still, there is no time to reflect as the Imperials have already begun to open their lists. The names of every known dissident of the Empire are written on those lists. Surprisingly, I find the Imperial standing in front of me, condemning my soldiers, is a fellow Nord. Another traitor to his people. It disgusts me that one could renounce their ideals so freely, for mere politics.

"Ulfric Stormcloak!"

First to go, then. I shrug off the Imperial hand upon my shoulder, as he leads me away from my compatriots. Ralof calls to me, but I can barely hear him over the blood rushing through my ears as I survey the scene. The headsman stands before us, his axe well-sharpened and gleaming, the chopping block lying at the ready. I should have known better; as if the Empire would bother with a trial. Seems they've given up even the pretense of justice now. All the better. If nothing else, more and more people will soon realize the justness of our cause and fly to our banner as the Empire slowly destroys everything it stands for. Even if the leader of that banner is not myself.

A scuffle reaches my ears behind me, and glance to see the horse thief burst through the line of Imperials. His flight is short-lived, though, and he nearly instantly drops to the ground in a flurry of limbs, numerous arrows buried in his back. I knew he'd never make it to the block. A coward to the end. To Oblivion with him; I've my own date to keep.

By the time all the names had been read, a sizable crowd had formed around the yard, clearly anticipating a spectacle. Nary a friendly face to be found. Tullius walks into the yard, and faces me directly. The esteemed general had obviously been dying to make a speech. "Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne."

A pitiful start. And false on several counts. A retort passes my tongue, but no further, as the gag restrains me. The coward refuses me any last words as he rambles on, addressing the crowd as much as myself, clearly wanting to make some kind of example of the situation. "You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos. And now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace!" The crowd murmurs in assent, my Stormcloaks in disgust. Personally, I find the man's little speech dull beyond compare. He has no sense of eloquence, his words sounding rehearsed and flat. Even at half his age - perhaps even a third, given his graying hair - I could captivate a crowd with a few sentences, drive them into the heights of passion. I understand the souls of my fellow men, and how to inspire them.

Suddenly, a shriek pierces the mid-morning air. Everyone stirs uneasily, and I admit somewhere in the back of my mind, a twinge of primal fear appears. But it is gone as quickly as it came, and I dismiss the noise; the howl of the wind carving through the mountain pass, perhaps. The crowd swiftly settled as well; a Priestess of Arkay stepped forward to deliver our last rites. More Imperial custom than Nord, but decent of them. Or at least, it would be if their priests did not bow the whims of the Elves.

"As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon..."

"For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with."

The Priestess sounds surprised and affronted as Bjarke - whose heart burns with a passion so great, I sometimes think it burned out his mind - interrupts her and steps fearlessly toward the headsman. I don't know why she reacted as such; one should expect vitriol when you slight a man's god, even a "heretic's." My heart fills with pride as Baldor taunts the Imperials even as they force him down upon the block. Such bravery. Bravery all my Stormcloaks possess. To die for their beliefs, fighting an unjust Empire, whether by sword or axe.

I don't look away or flinch as the axe finishes its deadly arc. I have seen far worse in my life than a body and head separated from each other. The crowd cries out as the body is unceremoniously shoved aside.

"Justice!"

"You Imperial bastards!"

"Death to the Stormcloaks!"

I lock eyes with Tullius as the captain calls out, "Next, the Breton!" Of course. He wants me to go last. To watch as my men lay down their lives, knowing that I will share their fate. I would feel guilt for their deaths, but for the fact that they are not here following my banner; they are here because they followed their ideals.

Another shriek cuts through the air. Much louder than before. And much, much closer. My blood chills. There is no mistaking it for the wind this time. That howl was undeniably the call of an apex predator. Some creature that sits atop the pecking order, and knows it. But what? I've never heard anything like it in my life, though I feel an ancient part of me quail in fear before it. The crowd is visibly agitated now, but the Imperials push on. The Breton is walked to the block. Remarkably, he seems almost uninterested in his impending death, gazing around, as if curious about the sound. In my mind, I honor him. I remember Ralof's earlier words: A Nord's last thoughts should be of home. And so my own thoughts turn to Windhelm. The majesty of the Palace of Kings, where I spent my childhood, and it's storied history. The strength of its walls and its peoples, with whom I strove to make our world a better place.

As the Breton is brought painfully to his knees... I am not a man given to excessive prayer. I have always preferred to proclaim my faith through the truth of actions than through words that have no substance behind them. And yet for this man, whether fearless or foolhardy, I find myself speaking within me. Mighty Talos. I have sought in my life to honour you through battle and glory. I have fought to save your divine name from enemies who would have you struck from the annals of history, and defile all that for which you stand. Should this be my time to die, I embrace it willingly, knowing I have striven my best to achieve my goals, and knowing others will take up your banner in my absence. But I implore you; spare this innocent life before me, whose only guilt lies in poor fortune. He does not deserve to die a meaningless death by the treachery of this false Empire.

So engrossed am I, it is not until someone forces me to the ground that I notice anything wrong. The ground shakes beneath me, and all of Helgen is in an uproar. I look up and freeze from disbelief. Shock and awe bind my feet, but for a moment. Has Talos answered my prayer? Is this a blessing I have brought upon us, or a curse? Someone unties my hands, and I rip the gag from my mouth. I run from the great black beast without a second thought. I never understood the phrase "Discretion is the better part of valor" better than I have this very moment.

"DRAGON!"

Chapter 2 - Ralof I: Unbound

#tes #the elder scrolls #skyrim #tesblr #ulfric stormcloak #dragonborn #gaming #fanfic #the voice of the bard #skyrim fanfiction

16 notes · View notes