She wanted his gruff voice in her ear and those rough palms on her hips and his heat pressed into the wetness that even now gathered between her thighs.
She wanted him so much she feared he would be able to sense it, and so she scowled in the dark and said in as chilling a tone as she could muster, “Are you quite finished having fun at my expense? Surely there are other maids within these halls who can entertain your moods and call you ‘love’ all the night through, if that be your desire.”
The open book in his palm snapped shut so loudly she jumped. Ulfric stood from his chair, tense and no longer amused. He did not offer another word as he made his way to the door, and she was reminded of the last time he had walked out in the exact same manner, not so very long ago.
“Wait, Ulfric…I…”
By the divines what had compelled her to speak? Was it not enough that her mind rebelled against her at every turn, that her body betrayed her with its damning need? Now was her mouth not even under her own control?
It apparently was not, as she groped for something to say that was not an apology, blurting out in a breathless rush, “Wh…What is that book you read?”
He turned to look at her, and even in the shadows she could make out his indecipherable frown.
“Antecedents of Dwemer Law. Shall I leave it? I do not think it will hold the interest of the maids,” he added dryly.
She ignored the quip in her dogged effort to have any sort of conversation with the oaf that did not flare to heated argument.
“Dwemer Law? By no means light reading.”
“Too heavy for a Nord, you mean?”
She stiffened. “No. I didn’t mean.”
The silence that followed her biting retort stretched to the point of discomfort. She resigned herself to swallow her damnable pride and plead apology and be done with it, but he saved her the effort.
“It is heavy on my mind, to be sure.”
And with that ominous statement her impossible husband retreated from the door and came, not back to the chair across the room from her, but to her very bed in the center of it. He sat on the edge next to her, so close she could feel the heat of his body fill the space between them.
So close she could touch him if she but lifted her arm.
He had always fascinated her. Even from the start he had pulled at her, confounded her senses and made her feel so very empty and yet complete and she could do no less than hate him for it.
And want him still.
Her emotions and desire waged war within her heart, but her husband seemed more in the mood for words and contemplation, and paid no attention to her flashing eyes.
“There is so much of the influence of the elves, even here. Even in Skyrim – our laws, the very words we speak…Am I fooling myself to think we can ever be free of their weight?”
She sat in the quiet that followed his gruffly spoken words, listening to the howling wind and the rapid thud of her heart.
“Ulfric, if you think there is nothing good that can come from difference, or if you cannot recognize yourself in the enemy, then what is the point of my remaining here?”
He turned his gaze to her, his brow a harsh furrow. “My enemy place heel on all others, rape our land for their pleasure, and seek to wipe from existence anything deemed inferior. You think me much like them?”
Re: Never Our Tenderness (F!/DB Imperial/Ulfric Stormcloak) – 12b/14
She wanted his gruff voice in her ear and those rough palms on her hips and his heat pressed into the wetness that even now gathered between her thighs.
She wanted him so much she feared he would be able to sense it, and so she scowled in the dark and said in as chilling a tone as she could muster, “Are you quite finished having fun at my expense? Surely there are other maids within these halls who can entertain your moods and call you ‘love’ all the night through, if that be your desire.”
The open book in his palm snapped shut so loudly she jumped. Ulfric stood from his chair, tense and no longer amused. He did not offer another word as he made his way to the door, and she was reminded of the last time he had walked out in the exact same manner, not so very long ago.
“Wait, Ulfric…I…”
By the divines what had compelled her to speak? Was it not enough that her mind rebelled against her at every turn, that her body betrayed her with its damning need? Now was her mouth not even under her own control?
It apparently was not, as she groped for something to say that was not an apology, blurting out in a breathless rush, “Wh…What is that book you read?”
He turned to look at her, and even in the shadows she could make out his indecipherable frown.
“Antecedents of Dwemer Law. Shall I leave it? I do not think it will hold the interest of the maids,” he added dryly.
She ignored the quip in her dogged effort to have any sort of conversation with the oaf that did not flare to heated argument.
“Dwemer Law? By no means light reading.”
“Too heavy for a Nord, you mean?”
She stiffened. “No. I didn’t mean.”
The silence that followed her biting retort stretched to the point of discomfort. She resigned herself to swallow her damnable pride and plead apology and be done with it, but he saved her the effort.
“It is heavy on my mind, to be sure.”
And with that ominous statement her impossible husband retreated from the door and came, not back to the chair across the room from her, but to her very bed in the center of it. He sat on the edge next to her, so close she could feel the heat of his body fill the space between them.
So close she could touch him if she but lifted her arm.
He had always fascinated her. Even from the start he had pulled at her, confounded her senses and made her feel so very empty and yet complete and she could do no less than hate him for it.
And want him still.
Her emotions and desire waged war within her heart, but her husband seemed more in the mood for words and contemplation, and paid no attention to her flashing eyes.
“There is so much of the influence of the elves, even here. Even in Skyrim – our laws, the very words we speak…Am I fooling myself to think we can ever be free of their weight?”
She sat in the quiet that followed his gruffly spoken words, listening to the howling wind and the rapid thud of her heart.
“Ulfric, if you think there is nothing good that can come from difference, or if you cannot recognize yourself in the enemy, then what is the point of my remaining here?”
He turned his gaze to her, his brow a harsh furrow. “My enemy place heel on all others, rape our land for their pleasure, and seek to wipe from existence anything deemed inferior. You think me much like them?”