Summary: Rikke is getting real tired of Tullius' school girl on the F!Dovakiin.
The halls of Castle Dour were unusually chilly, even for Skyrim’s temperature. General Tullius of the Imperial Legion stared down one of his eleven legates. Legate Rikke stared defiant. Tension filtered through the hall, and the other Legate tensed. He briefly picked the sound of the murmured whispers from the two guards’ mouths. Damn Jarl Balgruuf for refusing to take sides, or he wouldn’t have to be in this conversation, again. Tullius knew Balgruuf couldn’t sides right now, thanks to the Dragonborn.
At least he didn’t have to deal the tension that present at the peace talks. While he had kept himself calm and professional, he would Oblivion bound if he didn’t admit he had been nervous. There had faint tremors through the halls of High Hrothgar as the monk or Ulfric or even Elsynia spoke. Being around six people who could shake the ground and the walls if they just barely spoke was unnerving. Even for a veteran like him.
The Eight have mercy on him for at least Ulfric had the least amount of training on him, and only a few words would cause the shaking. The monks and the Dragonborn unnerved him the most. The Greybeards had decades of training, and he heard stories about the Dragonborn growing up. Shaking himself mentally, he focused back onto the argument he and Rikke were having.
“After Elsynia comes back, Ulfric will attack Whiterun. He has to, Jarl Balgruuf will not choose a side, and we both know the war will not go anywhere with Whiterun free.” Rikke continued, her staring less defiant. Tullius mentally pinched the inside of his nose. “Even if Ulfric is planning to attack Whiterun, he knows that the Dragonborn hasn’t picked a side, and while she is there, attacking Whiterun would bring her wrath down on him. Quietly too.” It was no secret around Skyrim that Elsynia had been a free lancing assassin. She would be able to get in and out without anyone knowing, and plant enough convincing evidence to frame the Dark Brotherhood for it.
Elsynia looked over the gray walls of Castle Dour. Pulling her dark gray cloak closer, she nodded at a guard whom bowed his head and placed his fist over his chest. As she slid through the door, the tension in the room grabbed at her. Furrowing a brow, she ghosted towards the war room. Tullius and Rikke must be fighting again. She was amused how the Imperial army managed to work with those two at the head. Tullius’s stubbornness and Rikke’s fiery spirit and determination.
She smirked as Tullius mentioned her ability to assassinate people. Leaning against the door, and noting the way the guards and other Legate went stiff, she waiting for the two to notice her. She had no reason to interrupt their planning. Frowning, she briefly wondered what General Tullius would do after the war was won. Probably because of the Thalmor, and at the Emperor’s request. Out the corner of his eye, he saw Rikke stiffen and the look the door. Standing straight, he glances at the door. A familiar ex-assassin leant against the wall, the same infuriating smirk on her lips, as if she knew what would happen next. “Hello, General Tullius. Are you still recruiting?”
Four months later would find him sharing a drink with the Elf and Rikke after the Battle for Whiterun. He let his eyes roam over her. Despite every battle she had been, he saw very little scars. Looking up, he found her staring at him, eyebrow raised. “See something you like?” Composing himself, he took a sip of wine and shook his head. “No, but I’m curious about something.” She waved her hand in a continue movement. “Despite everything, you have very little scars.” A soft chuckle escaped her lips, and Tullius suddenly found himself wanted to kiss them. To know what they felt like. “I had the same question. Paarthurnax said it would have to be very deep in order to scar. A perk of being Dragonborn.”
Rikke glanced between the two. The Dragonborn’s indifference and the General’s stubborn attempt to deny the reality of him having a liking to her. Clearly someone was going to have play Mara.
Mara Rikke, (1/?)
Summary: Rikke is getting real tired of Tullius' school girl on the F!Dovakiin.
The halls of Castle Dour were unusually chilly, even for Skyrim’s temperature. General Tullius of the Imperial Legion stared down one of his eleven legates. Legate Rikke stared defiant. Tension filtered through the hall, and the other Legate tensed. He briefly picked the sound of the murmured whispers from the two guards’ mouths. Damn Jarl Balgruuf for refusing to take sides, or he wouldn’t have to be in this conversation, again. Tullius knew Balgruuf couldn’t sides right now, thanks to the Dragonborn.
At least he didn’t have to deal the tension that present at the peace talks. While he had kept himself calm and professional, he would Oblivion bound if he didn’t admit he had been nervous. There had faint tremors through the halls of High Hrothgar as the monk or Ulfric or even Elsynia spoke. Being around six people who could shake the ground and the walls if they just barely spoke was unnerving. Even for a veteran like him.
The Eight have mercy on him for at least Ulfric had the least amount of training on him, and only a few words would cause the shaking. The monks and the Dragonborn unnerved him the most. The Greybeards had decades of training, and he heard stories about the Dragonborn growing up. Shaking himself mentally, he focused back onto the argument he and Rikke were having.
“After Elsynia comes back, Ulfric will attack Whiterun. He has to, Jarl Balgruuf will not choose a side, and we both know the war will not go anywhere with Whiterun free.” Rikke continued, her staring less defiant. Tullius mentally pinched the inside of his nose. “Even if Ulfric is planning to attack Whiterun, he knows that the Dragonborn hasn’t picked a side, and while she is there, attacking Whiterun would bring her wrath down on him. Quietly too.” It was no secret around Skyrim that Elsynia had been a free lancing assassin. She would be able to get in and out without anyone knowing, and plant enough convincing evidence to frame the Dark Brotherhood for it.
Elsynia looked over the gray walls of Castle Dour. Pulling her dark gray cloak closer, she nodded at a guard whom bowed his head and placed his fist over his chest. As she slid through the door, the tension in the room grabbed at her. Furrowing a brow, she ghosted towards the war room. Tullius and Rikke must be fighting again. She was amused how the Imperial army managed to work with those two at the head. Tullius’s stubbornness and Rikke’s fiery spirit and determination.
She smirked as Tullius mentioned her ability to assassinate people. Leaning against the door, and noting the way the guards and other Legate went stiff, she waiting for the two to notice her. She had no reason to interrupt their planning. Frowning, she briefly wondered what General Tullius would do after the war was won. Probably because of the Thalmor, and at the Emperor’s request.
Out the corner of his eye, he saw Rikke stiffen and the look the door. Standing straight, he glances at the door. A familiar ex-assassin leant against the wall, the same infuriating smirk on her lips, as if she knew what would happen next. “Hello, General Tullius. Are you still recruiting?”
Four months later would find him sharing a drink with the Elf and Rikke after the Battle for Whiterun. He let his eyes roam over her. Despite every battle she had been, he saw very little scars. Looking up, he found her staring at him, eyebrow raised. “See something you like?” Composing himself, he took a sip of wine and shook his head. “No, but I’m curious about something.” She waved her hand in a continue movement. “Despite everything, you have very little scars.” A soft chuckle escaped her lips, and Tullius suddenly found himself wanted to kiss them. To know what they felt like. “I had the same question. Paarthurnax said it would have to be very deep in order to scar. A perk of being Dragonborn.”
Rikke glanced between the two. The Dragonborn’s indifference and the General’s stubborn attempt to deny the reality of him having a liking to her. Clearly someone was going to have play Mara.