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ANNOUNCEMENTS: UPDATED 12/16/2017

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Never Our Tenderness (F!/DB Imperial/Ulfric Stormcloak) – 8b/?

[(Anonymous)]

She did not like the way his eyes raked over her as he stalked closer, a warm caress, sweeping up from the opening of her robe, which did not quite close all the way over her generous chest, to pause upon her face. Then his heated gaze shot up to above her face, his brows lifting, a small smirk teasing one corner of his mouth into a mocking smile.

“Is this a new fashion of the Dovah? It’s very, uh…” He stopped, waving one hand in a circling motion over his head, as if he tried to come up with an appropriate description.

No doubt looking for the most insulting, she thought uncharitably, but the best he came up with was, “…lofty. No, striking. Really.”

She scowled, and reached up to rip out her failed handiwork. He was upon her in two of his massive strides, swatting her hands away. Before she could blink, he had picked her up, settled himself onto the chair and set her down upon his lap, both legs draping over one side of his. She twisted against him, tried to dismount from this decidedly warmer seat, but one arm snaked around her waist to fuse her tightly against his chest. His other hand began to pull her knotted work apart with surprisingly gentle fingers.

There was something decidedly domestic and intimate about a man’s hand in a woman’s hair, and this was a liberty she could not allow.

She squirmed anew against his hold on her. “I do not require your aid, Nord.”

“So it is your intention to appear in front of the gathered masses looking like you don a Forsworn headdress?”

She hissed, “I have to appear looking like your wife, think you I like that better?”

She felt as much as she heard his deep inhale and labored sigh, as if he was making great effort to maintain his implacable calm. “Word has been sent to your housecarl. She will be here to attend you after the ceremony. For now, be still.”

His rudely given command was not even noticed in the wake of his earlier comment. She lifted her face so quickly she hit his chin with the top of her head. She heard the crack of his teeth hitting together, saw his brief wince of pain, but she did not care.

“You will allow this?”

“You are to be my wife, not my prisoner,” he said gruffly.

She snorted, a loud indelicate sound. “There is a difference?”

His hand moved from her hair to clench around her jaw like a vise, turning her to face him. His fingers dug cruelly into her skin, so tightly did he hold her. It was, she realized, the first time he had touched her with the intention of causing physical hurt since the battle had ended, and it caught her by surprise.

“Would you like to learn it? I have been well schooled on the purgatory of confinement and abuse.”

She should not have forgotten his inherent cruelty. She saw it in his eyes now, as he spoke of prison. There was hate there, but pain also, and she found herself without words.

He released his grip at her mutinous silence. She sat there, cowed for the moment, his fingers back to being soothing and gentle against her scalp.

She allowed herself to relax, her mind turning over various possibilities. Lydia at her side was an asset she could well use to the advantage of escape.

Or assassination.

She stiffened against him, amazed at how quickly her mind rejected that idea.

The enemy you carry with you is your greatest foe.

She chewed at her lip as she considered her options, sobered at the memory of her family. She would not fail them. She would not fail her brothers, nor her father, who had poured his teachings into her even through her unruly adolescence, when it had seemed as if she did not listen, nor care.

But she had listened. She’d always listened, and if it came to that, she would do what needed to be done.

This would need careful planning. And patience.

She tried to keep her voice calm, testing dangerous waters. “And what of Balgruuf’s children? When will they be finished with their lesson?”

“They are safe enough, for now,” he answered carefully, threat underlying his voice. “And they will come to no harm while you remain well behaved.”

Her calm was not easily kept. “Think you I can remain such with hatred stirring my blood, when you condemn me to a lifetime of being bound to you? No prison this, you say, but nevertheless the torment is never ending.”