“The Thalmor still badger the Emperor, and drag people off the streets,” she informed him, settling into the countenance of a scout, or messenger. “The colleges still pester and cloy, and the nobles still plot. I have more information, for a price.”
“You will have gold.”
“Very well. Motierre paid me to put out the word that he was retiring to his manor in the Jerall mountains. He and the Emperor argued daily for a week beforehand. In actuality he has gone to Skyrim, though I do not know why.”
“Aumand Motierre,” Shae watched General Tullius stalk to a table and begin counting out coins. She counted fifty of them, and smiled to herself. Tullius paid generously, even if he was hard to deal with sometimes. He snorted, always so cynical and never surprised.
“Yes. I expect he plans to kill the Emperor.”
“If the Emperor had a septim for every man who plotted to kill him, he could personally fund an army of mercenaries to sort this whole rebellion mess out,” Tullius told her. “I will see that Aumand doesn't succeed.”
“Good,” she reverted back to cheery, always trying to throw the General off-guard. “I liked the Emperor when I met him— he complimented my eyes.”
“And you complimented his 'pretty purple robes',” his quips always came out of the blue. One never expected them from such a reticent, brooding exterior. “And there were a few jabs about Hammerfell that soured the small talk, if memory serves me right.”
“Memory serves you right, General.” Shae smiled again. She had missed the man in a way. His coin more than his character, if she was honest. “You are not so old as to forget. And you will never forget dear Shae, I expect. Not whilst she harbours all your secrets.”
She isn't sure if she has annoyed, or amused him. He lets the comment slide over his head again, yet not through lack of authority. It is more as if, he feels himself so in charge that he needn't bother chastising her for such words. Instead, he changed the subject. “What did you think of Ulfric Stormcloak?”
“Ulfric Stormcloak?” Shae paused, only for a moment. “His men follow him blindly.”
“What do you think of him Ada--” ah, a slip of the tongue. “Shae.”
“He is far more charismatic than you.”
“You saw him?” He accepted the remark for what it was. A brutally honest statement. Nodded his head at it, as if he knew that, and it couldn't be changed.
“I visited him in his palace. He told me he understood my pain. That the Empire had abandoned Hammerfell as much as they had abandoned him. I told him I knew other Redguards who desired revenge and left.”
“You got inside the palace. You could do so again,” the General mulled, almost to himself. He didn't make any reaction to the hidden resentment that surfaced every time Hammerfell was mentioned. She wondered if he even noticed it was there. The General had only ever known her as a shadow of the Imperial City, not before.
Shae strode towards him where he still stood by the table. She scooped the fifty septims into her hands, and distributed them to a modest purse at her waist. Unlike the General, who's movements were accompanied with the constant rustle of his armour, her own buckled leather made barely a whisper.
“Yes,” she said. He was taller than her by a head, and seemed to glare at her down the bridge of his nose at her. They called it an Imperial nose, one like that. Strong, and slightly crooked. She rose an eyebrow in response to the look. “But you don't want me to kill him.”
Tullius turned from her. “I want this war to end,” he said, blunt as ever. Patience had never been the General's virtue. It was one of the reasons he had been persuaded to hire her, after his job had him spending lots of time at the Imperial Palace. In war, the man looked before he leaped, but he didn't like it. He was an honest man, and that had made him a target at court, years previous. But he had paid well, and Shae-- Adara, then-- had kept him safe.
“You want to kill him,” Shae stepped closer, so that they were near enough to shake hands again. She cocked her head to the side slightly, and wondered if she would vex him if she reached out and touched his arm. If it would ignite some reaction.
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timeasmymeasure
A Shadow in Solitude Tullius/F!PC [1c/?]
Date: 2013-04-09 08:31 am (UTC)“You will have gold.”
“Very well. Motierre paid me to put out the word that he was retiring to his manor in the Jerall mountains. He and the Emperor argued daily for a week beforehand. In actuality he has gone to Skyrim, though I do not know why.”
“Aumand Motierre,” Shae watched General Tullius stalk to a table and begin counting out coins. She counted fifty of them, and smiled to herself. Tullius paid generously, even if he was hard to deal with sometimes. He snorted, always so cynical and never surprised.
“Yes. I expect he plans to kill the Emperor.”
“If the Emperor had a septim for every man who plotted to kill him, he could personally fund an army of mercenaries to sort this whole rebellion mess out,” Tullius told her. “I will see that Aumand doesn't succeed.”
“Good,” she reverted back to cheery, always trying to throw the General off-guard. “I liked the Emperor when I met him— he complimented my eyes.”
“And you complimented his 'pretty purple robes',” his quips always came out of the blue. One never expected them from such a reticent, brooding exterior. “And there were a few jabs about Hammerfell that soured the small talk, if memory serves me right.”
“Memory serves you right, General.” Shae smiled again. She had missed the man in a way. His coin more than his character, if she was honest. “You are not so old as to forget. And you will never forget dear Shae, I expect. Not whilst she harbours all your secrets.”
She isn't sure if she has annoyed, or amused him. He lets the comment slide over his head again, yet not through lack of authority. It is more as if, he feels himself so in charge that he needn't bother chastising her for such words. Instead, he changed the subject. “What did you think of Ulfric Stormcloak?”
“Ulfric Stormcloak?” Shae paused, only for a moment. “His men follow him blindly.”
“What do you think of him Ada--” ah, a slip of the tongue. “Shae.”
“He is far more charismatic than you.”
“You saw him?” He accepted the remark for what it was. A brutally honest statement. Nodded his head at it, as if he knew that, and it couldn't be changed.
“I visited him in his palace. He told me he understood my pain. That the Empire had abandoned Hammerfell as much as they had abandoned him. I told him I knew other Redguards who desired revenge and left.”
“You got inside the palace. You could do so again,” the General mulled, almost to himself. He didn't make any reaction to the hidden resentment that surfaced every time Hammerfell was mentioned. She wondered if he even noticed it was there. The General had only ever known her as a shadow of the Imperial City, not before.
Shae strode towards him where he still stood by the table. She scooped the fifty septims into her hands, and distributed them to a modest purse at her waist. Unlike the General, who's movements were accompanied with the constant rustle of his armour, her own buckled leather made barely a whisper.
“Yes,” she said. He was taller than her by a head, and seemed to glare at her down the bridge of his nose at her. They called it an Imperial nose, one like that. Strong, and slightly crooked. She rose an eyebrow in response to the look. “But you don't want me to kill him.”
Tullius turned from her. “I want this war to end,” he said, blunt as ever. Patience had never been the General's virtue. It was one of the reasons he had been persuaded to hire her, after his job had him spending lots of time at the Imperial Palace. In war, the man looked before he leaped, but he didn't like it. He was an honest man, and that had made him a target at court, years previous. But he had paid well, and Shae-- Adara, then-- had kept him safe.
“You want to kill him,” Shae stepped closer, so that they were near enough to shake hands again. She cocked her head to the side slightly, and wondered if she would vex him if she reached out and touched his arm. If it would ignite some reaction.