It sounded all too plausible. Once Elisif would have had trouble believing the Thalmor were that duplicitous, but these days she had no problem believing it. One of her own Thanes had tried to kill her, she'd ended up in prison in a city nominally loyal to her, and the Legion very clearly just saw her as some sort of pawn, a figurehead of legitimacy and respect for Nord traditions to cover Imperial self-interest. No wonder Ulfric still had support, she was starting to wonder if remaining in the Empire was the best course of action herself. But no. She'd given General Tullius her support, and if the Thalmor thought Ulfric was an asset then she was opposing him. The Empire it was then. Madanach would be pleased with that at any rate – he was lukewarm about the Empire but practical enough to realise it was his best bet at long-term security for his future kingdom.
It really was coming to something when the ones she trusted most were paranoid fugitives from the Thalmor, dangerous heathen warlord battlemages who had Hagravens running their army, lunatic jester assassins, at least one out and out thief, her half-Reachman housecarl, several werewolves and a pair of Dunmer mystics who were mostly normal but occasionally had... lapses.
“Maybe I should go and talk to him,” Elisif whispered. “I don't know if he'll want to talk about it, but he might.”
“He might,” Delphine said quietly. “He brooded for hours after reading it. It was a bit worrying, really. I only gave it to him because I thought he might appreciate the irony. Didn't think that one line would get to him quite so much, although it certainly cemented his loyalty so that's something. Your charms are considerable but they won't hold him forever.”
Nice of Delphine to say so – wait. Hold who forever? Madanach?? He might well think her pretty but that wasn't why he was doing all this. Was it?
“Madanach doesn't fancy me,” Elisif said, trying her best to laugh it off. “I mean, he's probably noticed I'm pretty but there's no way he'd seriously want a Nord in his bed... Delphine, stop looking at me like that, he really doesn't... I mean, he can't... He just wants his land back and thinks I can get it!”
“Of course he does, you're his prized asset, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want you,” Delphine said, rolling her eyes. “Come on, you must have noticed how often he seeks your company out, not to mention the gifts. Four Words of Power and a housecarl? Those aren't gifts you send someone on a whim – Elisif?”
Elisif barely heard her, heart beating faster as her skin went cold, mind going blank as she slotted the pieces together. Letters complimenting her and drawing her in as a confidant, even flirting a little in that last one – offering to whisk her off to a Forsworn camp for unimaginable torments? Good gods, that interpretation hadn't even occurred to her. All the gifts, sending Argis to look after her, Argis calling her Brenhina – Queen. Not High Queen of Skyrim or even Dragon-Queen, but Queen of the Reach, Madanach's consort. The barely-controlled rage at the idea of her sacrificing herself – of course Madanach hid terror behind anger.
Madanach wanted her and he struck Elisif as the persistent type. He'd keep on trying until he felt ready to make his move, and it could be soon. Elisif had no idea how to react – Madanach, seriously?? The King of the Forsworn wanting her – he was old enough to be her father, fifty-nine, wasn't he? His youngest daughter older than her. There was no way she could say yes, she was still grieving Torygg, she had a husband in Sovngarde waiting for her! How was she supposed to face him again having had someone like Madanach touch her?
“I need to talk to him,” Elisif gasped, getting up and running back to camp. She had to say something, stop this insanity before it got out of hand.
Re: The Wolf Queen Awakens 28.4
It really was coming to something when the ones she trusted most were paranoid fugitives from the Thalmor, dangerous heathen warlord battlemages who had Hagravens running their army, lunatic jester assassins, at least one out and out thief, her half-Reachman housecarl, several werewolves and a pair of Dunmer mystics who were mostly normal but occasionally had... lapses.
“Maybe I should go and talk to him,” Elisif whispered. “I don't know if he'll want to talk about it, but he might.”
“He might,” Delphine said quietly. “He brooded for hours after reading it. It was a bit worrying, really. I only gave it to him because I thought he might appreciate the irony. Didn't think that one line would get to him quite so much, although it certainly cemented his loyalty so that's something. Your charms are considerable but they won't hold him forever.”
Nice of Delphine to say so – wait. Hold who forever? Madanach?? He might well think her pretty but that wasn't why he was doing all this. Was it?
“Madanach doesn't fancy me,” Elisif said, trying her best to laugh it off. “I mean, he's probably noticed I'm pretty but there's no way he'd seriously want a Nord in his bed... Delphine, stop looking at me like that, he really doesn't... I mean, he can't... He just wants his land back and thinks I can get it!”
“Of course he does, you're his prized asset, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want you,” Delphine said, rolling her eyes. “Come on, you must have noticed how often he seeks your company out, not to mention the gifts. Four Words of Power and a housecarl? Those aren't gifts you send someone on a whim – Elisif?”
Elisif barely heard her, heart beating faster as her skin went cold, mind going blank as she slotted the pieces together. Letters complimenting her and drawing her in as a confidant, even flirting a little in that last one – offering to whisk her off to a Forsworn camp for unimaginable torments? Good gods, that interpretation hadn't even occurred to her. All the gifts, sending Argis to look after her, Argis calling her Brenhina – Queen. Not High Queen of Skyrim or even Dragon-Queen, but Queen of the Reach, Madanach's consort. The barely-controlled rage at the idea of her sacrificing herself – of course Madanach hid terror behind anger.
Madanach wanted her and he struck Elisif as the persistent type. He'd keep on trying until he felt ready to make his move, and it could be soon. Elisif had no idea how to react – Madanach, seriously?? The King of the Forsworn wanting her – he was old enough to be her father, fifty-nine, wasn't he? His youngest daughter older than her. There was no way she could say yes, she was still grieving Torygg, she had a husband in Sovngarde waiting for her! How was she supposed to face him again having had someone like Madanach touch her?
“I need to talk to him,” Elisif gasped, getting up and running back to camp. She had to say something, stop this insanity before it got out of hand.