Audric sat on a ledge, dangling his feet in the warm spring water. His skin was an angry red, but he didn’t care to step out just yet. He smoked some tobacco he’d bought off of a fellow at the Cornerclub; it wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t great. Smooth, but a little bitter. He stared off into the basin, daydreaming about just taking off. Nothing was stopping him, really. He was well within his rights to up and leave. And besides, he had an Elder Scroll to find.
But, ditching Ulfric to deal with Tullius seemed cruel, and ditching the company to deal with Ulfric thereafter seemed even crueler. Besides, he couldn’t imagine that King and General would ever come to a decent conclusion left to their own devices.
If I am the voice of reason, Audric stood, shaking the water off of his toes, Divines save us all.
He walked barefoot back to the fort, scrambling up craggy outcroppings, digging his toes into the stone and dirt. He’d heard the commotion of Tullius’ arrival several hours ago, but had left himself out of the reception. He’d rather just waltz into the tail end of it for the food and maybe something to drink.
The place was quiet, as men settled in for the evening. He dawdled at the stairwell that would take him to the chamber he’d been shown earlier, where Ulfric and Galmar and all the rest were probably sleeping, now. Then he turned and gazed at the moonlight that fell on the cold stone in a sliver from a door left ajar. Through that door, he might find company, if not familiar then at least less inclined to smother him in his sleep. Though, trust might beget trust. Still, there were an awful lot of valuables to be pawed through up there… But no; if he wanted this to work — if he wanted to see the Thalmor pushed out of Skyrim — he had to learn to trust and be trusted. He had to reign himself in a little.
Grumbling under his breath, he resigned himself to a night alone and trudged up the stairs.
Two of the beds were empty: his own, and the one beside it, which Ulfric had claimed. He thought about this as he stared blankly at the screen that separated them. He wondered where Ulfric had gotten to, as he shucked his armor and peeled off his clothes. He couldn’t be bothered with modesty; it was too humid in this place, and he doubted these old soldiers would take offense.
He was almost asleep when the door creaked open again. He didn’t speak, didn’t move, barely breathed as he listened. Heavy footsteps — Ulfric’s, no doubt — fell across the floor. The wooden frame of his bed protested under the sudden weight, but it took him. Audric listened sleepily to the unfastening of buckles and the hiss of leather as it was removed and discarded; belts, boots, bracers. He listened to Ulfric grunt to himself as he fought with small buttons and leather ties.
He turned onto his belly and tried not to think about it while sleep overcame him.
Angrily, grumpily, he woke with the other men. A hand was on his bare shoulder, shaking him. “Okay, alright, I’m up!”
There was some soft laughter, but no further comment.
Audric grumbled, pulling on a fine pair of pants he’d stolen and had consequently had to tailor. Gazing around the room, he noticed the other men taking stock of their valuables, some less subtly than others. It amused more than it offended.
Once dressed, he followed his nose into a large chamber, full of long tables and occupied by loud babble, conversations indistinguishable from one another. Taking a seat crammed between a few friends, he tucked into breakfast without a word. The food wasn’t terribly good, but neither was it just plain terrible; it was hot and filling and it tasted okay. The only conversation he made was to beg around the table for coffee.
Ulfric never made himself known, but neither did Tullius, Audric noticed. Spitefully, he imagined them with chicken and cream and fresh greens on their plates, settled into arm chairs while the rest of everyone else hunched on uneven wooden benches over bland oats and buttered bread.
You could have nice food too, the thought crossed his mind. But then, for someone who showed an immense lack of integrity, he would have felt bad taking a good meal while his friends were left to gruel.
"Divide and Conquer" Ulfric Stormcloak/M!DB, 13c/??
But, ditching Ulfric to deal with Tullius seemed cruel, and ditching the company to deal with Ulfric thereafter seemed even crueler. Besides, he couldn’t imagine that King and General would ever come to a decent conclusion left to their own devices.
If I am the voice of reason, Audric stood, shaking the water off of his toes, Divines save us all.
He walked barefoot back to the fort, scrambling up craggy outcroppings, digging his toes into the stone and dirt. He’d heard the commotion of Tullius’ arrival several hours ago, but had left himself out of the reception. He’d rather just waltz into the tail end of it for the food and maybe something to drink.
The place was quiet, as men settled in for the evening. He dawdled at the stairwell that would take him to the chamber he’d been shown earlier, where Ulfric and Galmar and all the rest were probably sleeping, now. Then he turned and gazed at the moonlight that fell on the cold stone in a sliver from a door left ajar. Through that door, he might find company, if not familiar then at least less inclined to smother him in his sleep. Though, trust might beget trust. Still, there were an awful lot of valuables to be pawed through up there… But no; if he wanted this to work — if he wanted to see the Thalmor pushed out of Skyrim — he had to learn to trust and be trusted. He had to reign himself in a little.
Grumbling under his breath, he resigned himself to a night alone and trudged up the stairs.
Two of the beds were empty: his own, and the one beside it, which Ulfric had claimed. He thought about this as he stared blankly at the screen that separated them. He wondered where Ulfric had gotten to, as he shucked his armor and peeled off his clothes. He couldn’t be bothered with modesty; it was too humid in this place, and he doubted these old soldiers would take offense.
He was almost asleep when the door creaked open again. He didn’t speak, didn’t move, barely breathed as he listened. Heavy footsteps — Ulfric’s, no doubt — fell across the floor. The wooden frame of his bed protested under the sudden weight, but it took him. Audric listened sleepily to the unfastening of buckles and the hiss of leather as it was removed and discarded; belts, boots, bracers. He listened to Ulfric grunt to himself as he fought with small buttons and leather ties.
He turned onto his belly and tried not to think about it while sleep overcame him.
Angrily, grumpily, he woke with the other men. A hand was on his bare shoulder, shaking him. “Okay, alright, I’m up!”
There was some soft laughter, but no further comment.
Audric grumbled, pulling on a fine pair of pants he’d stolen and had consequently had to tailor. Gazing around the room, he noticed the other men taking stock of their valuables, some less subtly than others. It amused more than it offended.
Once dressed, he followed his nose into a large chamber, full of long tables and occupied by loud babble, conversations indistinguishable from one another. Taking a seat crammed between a few friends, he tucked into breakfast without a word. The food wasn’t terribly good, but neither was it just plain terrible; it was hot and filling and it tasted okay. The only conversation he made was to beg around the table for coffee.
Ulfric never made himself known, but neither did Tullius, Audric noticed. Spitefully, he imagined them with chicken and cream and fresh greens on their plates, settled into arm chairs while the rest of everyone else hunched on uneven wooden benches over bland oats and buttered bread.
You could have nice food too, the thought crossed his mind. But then, for someone who showed an immense lack of integrity, he would have felt bad taking a good meal while his friends were left to gruel.