Snow rocks softly down onto the ground and building around Windhelm. Elsynia’s gaze wandered to the snow nearest to the fires, or burning wood, watching its melting speed. Tullius’ voice roared over the victorious Imperial soldiers. Inspecting her nails, she mused over the fight with Ulfric. Smirking, she remembered the look on his face as she dug her Daedric knife through his gut. He may have charismatic and a good leader, but his racism and arrogance in thinking he could defeat the legendary Dragonborn was his downfall.
Turning her head, she saw Tullius looking at her, and Rikke with a weird expression on her face. “The Empire thanks you for your service.” She nods at him. “And what will you do now, General?” He frowns. “I need to stay here because of the Thalmor.” And I am hopelessly in love with you. “I see. Perhaps I will come visit in two weeks after I take care of the remaining Stormcloak camps.”
It’s been two weeks since he last saw Elsynia and he is craving with need, but he will never make a move. The doubt of her showing any emotion for him is high. She may have someone she is seeing. Jealousy courses through his chest at the thought. At least the Thalmor gave him enough paperwork to keep him busy. Lost in his own world, he never sees the devious smirk on Rikke’s face.
A quiet relaxed mood sets on Castle Dour the morning after. Hundreds of Stormcloaks have returned the homes and the die-hards murdered in their sleep. It was obvious to the population who had committed the murders. No one dared, though, to speak out about the Dragonborn. Rikke sipped mead while Tullius nursed his wine. She would be here soon and Rikke could attempt to get them together. Elsynia would be probably able to catch on quickly to what she was doing, but Tullius, the damn stubborn man he was, would take some time before he caught on.
Rikke noticed a shadow pass from the corner of her eye. Looking up, she saw the ex-assassin gazing down at her with a smile. Winking, the assassin ghosted next to Tullius, the cloak around Elsynia moving barely. Leaning down, Elsynia breathed lightly on his neck causing the veteran to jump and glare at the Elf. She smirked. “Hello General.”
“Hello, Elsynia.” He pulls out the chair next to him, an invitation for her to sit. Rikke smiled, she may not have interfere that much. Sitting down gracefully, the Dragonborn noticed the Legate’s smile. “Why are you smiling, Legate?” Rikke shook her head and gulped down some mead. “Nothing.” Elsynia cocked her head to the left, her eyebrows furrowed in thought. The General, however, gave a confused look.
“I take you have heard the news about the camps?” She lifts a cup of wine to her lips. Nodding, he responded, “Yes. I’m surprised there isn’t a bigger outcry about it.” Elsynia grunted. “They don’t dare to.” Silence descends over the group. Elsynia begins picking at the wood of the table and Tullius returned to nursing his wine.
Rikke clears her throat to break the silence. “I have to report to the High Queen, she says there is something she wants me to tell me and report back to you about.” Tullius waves his hand. As Rikke passes by, she swiftly kicks a bottom leg of Tullius’s chair. He grunts as the chair suddenly falls towards Elsynia. The ex-assassin swiftly catches him but neither can stop the force that pushes his lips into hers.
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timeasmymeasure
Mara Rikke, (2/?)
Date: 2013-07-18 11:58 pm (UTC)Turning her head, she saw Tullius looking at her, and Rikke with a weird expression on her face. “The Empire thanks you for your service.” She nods at him. “And what will you do now, General?” He frowns. “I need to stay here because of the Thalmor.” And I am hopelessly in love with you. “I see. Perhaps I will come visit in two weeks after I take care of the remaining Stormcloak camps.”
It’s been two weeks since he last saw Elsynia and he is craving with need, but he will never make a move. The doubt of her showing any emotion for him is high. She may have someone she is seeing. Jealousy courses through his chest at the thought. At least the Thalmor gave him enough paperwork to keep him busy. Lost in his own world, he never sees the devious smirk on Rikke’s face.
A quiet relaxed mood sets on Castle Dour the morning after. Hundreds of Stormcloaks have returned the homes and the die-hards murdered in their sleep. It was obvious to the population who had committed the murders. No one dared, though, to speak out about the Dragonborn. Rikke sipped mead while Tullius nursed his wine. She would be here soon and Rikke could attempt to get them together. Elsynia would be probably able to catch on quickly to what she was doing, but Tullius, the damn stubborn man he was, would take some time before he caught on.
Rikke noticed a shadow pass from the corner of her eye. Looking up, she saw the ex-assassin gazing down at her with a smile. Winking, the assassin ghosted next to Tullius, the cloak around Elsynia moving barely. Leaning down, Elsynia breathed lightly on his neck causing the veteran to jump and glare at the Elf. She smirked. “Hello General.”
“Hello, Elsynia.” He pulls out the chair next to him, an invitation for her to sit. Rikke smiled, she may not have interfere that much. Sitting down gracefully, the Dragonborn noticed the Legate’s smile. “Why are you smiling, Legate?” Rikke shook her head and gulped down some mead. “Nothing.” Elsynia cocked her head to the left, her eyebrows furrowed in thought. The General, however, gave a confused look.
“I take you have heard the news about the camps?” She lifts a cup of wine to her lips. Nodding, he responded, “Yes. I’m surprised there isn’t a bigger outcry about it.” Elsynia grunted. “They don’t dare to.” Silence descends over the group. Elsynia begins picking at the wood of the table and Tullius returned to nursing his wine.
Rikke clears her throat to break the silence. “I have to report to the High Queen, she says there is something she wants me to tell me and report back to you about.” Tullius waves his hand. As Rikke passes by, she swiftly kicks a bottom leg of Tullius’s chair. He grunts as the chair suddenly falls towards Elsynia. The ex-assassin swiftly catches him but neither can stop the force that pushes his lips into hers.