A/N: Part The Seventh, In which there is exposition and chat and ACTUAL PLOT (for once). The end is in sight!
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"Do you remember the day the Thalmor took you?" Galmar asked.
Ulfric froze and gave a chilling stare. "Do you think I do not?"
"That's not what I meant, Ulfric, and well you know it."
"I'm sorry, Galmar. But you know I try to think of that time as little as possible," Ulfric replied.
"Do you remember there being much warning that the elves were coming for you? Sounds of a fight outside your door, perhaps?" Galmar asked, pinching the bridge of his nose, and addressing his knee.
Ulfric frowned as he thought back. "No," he said slowly. "I was taken by surprise. I only had time to Shout one of them into the wall before they swarmed and overwhelmed me. I - I confess, and I am sorry for it, but it did not occur to me that I heard nothing from you."
"I wondered if you had realised or not. I was too much of a coward to ask you, though. And then there was the business with Rikke, distracting me," Galmar said, flushing dark in shame.
"Galmar you are avoiding the point. My patience is not unlimited," Ulfric said crossly.
"Fine!" Galmar barked unhappily. "You want to know why the damned witch-elves took you so easily? Fine! I'll tell you!"
Ulfric blinked and took a deep breath, hesitating to remind Galmar that he had, in fact, asked about something completely unrelated to that event.
Galmar stood, too agitated to remain seated, and began pacing, crossing half the room before doubling back on himself.
Ulfric allowed the Housecarl to remain pacing in silence for a long minute, then lifted a hand to call him over to the bedside.
"Galmar. You are my most loyal... my oldest... You are my friend, my trusted friend, in a life where true friends are few and far between. You may speak candidly with me," Ulfric said quietly, meeting Galmar's reluctant gaze steadily.
"You'll change your tune," Galmar muttered.
"Do you think so little of me?" Ulfric asked softly.
"No. That's why I am so certain," Galmar muttered, turning away from Ulfric, running a hand through his hair and tugging at the hem of his tunic. "I failed you, Ulfric, in the most fundamental way a Housecarl can fail his charge. They tricked me, fucking Silver-Bloods, and the Thalmor got you in their hands."
Ulfric shifted himself so he sat higher in the bed. "Galmar. Tell me all."
Galmar glared at Ulfric, although Ulfric suspected the irate look was intended for the Thalmor. The Housecarl sighed. "Fine. I'll tell you. That night - the night they took you - we were in the Inn. There was a big crowd, many new faces. All of them merrily buying rounds and cheering for the Legion. There was a lovely tavern wench there that I hadn't seen before, and for once she was more interested in me than you. Now I know why," Galmar said, shaking his head and sighing.
"A lovely little thing she was. Blonde. Buxom. Nice... assets, if you know what I mean, and had a lovely smile that suggested good things for later on. I was merry but not in my cups by the time the crowd dispersed, and she came to me with one last bottle, and a saucy wink."
Galmar paused, clearly fighting himself, but Ulfric suspected he knew what was coming.
The Old-Fashioned Way 7/?
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"Do you remember the day the Thalmor took you?" Galmar asked.
Ulfric froze and gave a chilling stare. "Do you think I do not?"
"That's not what I meant, Ulfric, and well you know it."
"I'm sorry, Galmar. But you know I try to think of that time as little as possible," Ulfric replied.
"Do you remember there being much warning that the elves were coming for you? Sounds of a fight outside your door, perhaps?" Galmar asked, pinching the bridge of his nose, and addressing his knee.
Ulfric frowned as he thought back. "No," he said slowly. "I was taken by surprise. I only had time to Shout one of them into the wall before they swarmed and overwhelmed me. I - I confess, and I am sorry for it, but it did not occur to me that I heard nothing from you."
"I wondered if you had realised or not. I was too much of a coward to ask you, though. And then there was the business with Rikke, distracting me," Galmar said, flushing dark in shame.
"Galmar you are avoiding the point. My patience is not unlimited," Ulfric said crossly.
"Fine!" Galmar barked unhappily. "You want to know why the damned witch-elves took you so easily? Fine! I'll tell you!"
Ulfric blinked and took a deep breath, hesitating to remind Galmar that he had, in fact, asked about something completely unrelated to that event.
Galmar stood, too agitated to remain seated, and began pacing, crossing half the room before doubling back on himself.
Ulfric allowed the Housecarl to remain pacing in silence for a long minute, then lifted a hand to call him over to the bedside.
"Galmar. You are my most loyal... my oldest... You are my friend, my trusted friend, in a life where true friends are few and far between. You may speak candidly with me," Ulfric said quietly, meeting Galmar's reluctant gaze steadily.
"You'll change your tune," Galmar muttered.
"Do you think so little of me?" Ulfric asked softly.
"No. That's why I am so certain," Galmar muttered, turning away from Ulfric, running a hand through his hair and tugging at the hem of his tunic. "I failed you, Ulfric, in the most fundamental way a Housecarl can fail his charge. They tricked me, fucking Silver-Bloods, and the Thalmor got you in their hands."
Ulfric shifted himself so he sat higher in the bed. "Galmar. Tell me all."
Galmar glared at Ulfric, although Ulfric suspected the irate look was intended for the Thalmor. The Housecarl sighed. "Fine. I'll tell you. That night - the night they took you - we were in the Inn. There was a big crowd, many new faces. All of them merrily buying rounds and cheering for the Legion. There was a lovely tavern wench there that I hadn't seen before, and for once she was more interested in me than you. Now I know why," Galmar said, shaking his head and sighing.
"A lovely little thing she was. Blonde. Buxom. Nice... assets, if you know what I mean, and had a lovely smile that suggested good things for later on. I was merry but not in my cups by the time the crowd dispersed, and she came to me with one last bottle, and a saucy wink."
Galmar paused, clearly fighting himself, but Ulfric suspected he knew what was coming.