(Because I play a female dark elf, I'm going to use a female dark elf in this. Hope OP doesn't mind.)
Ulfric glowered at the so-called General Tullius who sat opposite him. His Lapdog Rikke next to him. Galmar nudged the nord with his elbow, leaning in to whisper in his ear. "If this stalemate goes on for much longer, I may harm the Dragonborn." Ulfric snorted softly. "She has chosen the Legion, you may yet be able to harm her." Said woman rustled about some maps, trying to determine the best course of action with giving out territories to ensure that everyone is happy. She may be a member of the Imperial Legion but she knows to be fair. "Then Riften shall go to the Legion while-" The elf jumped as Galmar slammed his hand down onto the table. "ENOUGH! I will not allow you to hand over every key point to these Imperial DOGS!" Tullius rubbed his temple, arm on the stone slab of a table. "Yes, it is true that Riften allows us a direct trading route with Cyrodiil but this is the Dragonborn's decision." Ulfric narrowed his eyes at the man. "Then she is choosing favourites after declaring to be fair and even in this so-called truce meeting." Rikke jumped to her feet. "Giving you The Pale cut off trade routes across the sea, thank you very much, Stormclogs!" "Lapdog!" "Murderer!" "Traitor!" "ENOUGH!!" The four standing, and yelling, people silence at the bellow from the elf at the head of the table. The air crackled with energy and they quickly realised that she had barely contained a Shout. The elf's red eyes narrowed. "Since you clearly will not listen to me, sort out your own mess. I only came to Skyrim to get some damn good-quality fur blankets." The Dragonborn walked out of the room. The silence was a pregnant whore. Rikke cleared her throat. "We clearly cannot do this ourselves. We have to find a way to bring the Dragonborn back." Three sounds of agreement came from the others and they poured into ideas. "I heard from the market's in Windhelm that she likes horker steak." "The Finest Raiment in Solitude says she has a slight obsession with circlets." Then we get her horker steak and circlets!"
A week later, the Dragonborn in her Whiterun home had answered a knock at her door and nearly screamed. Ulfric Stormcloak, General Tullius, Legate Rikke and Galmar Stone-Fist all stood outside her door, holding trays of horker steak and circlets of all types. "Dragonborn, since we are fighting children, we need you to negotiate for us. Here are offerings!" They spoke in unison and bowed, holding the trays out. Even the elf, having gotten used to a life on a pedestal, felt frightened by this show of gifts.
(First fill I've done. I hope OP likes it. I've done my best. :3)
Negotiations
Ulfric glowered at the so-called General Tullius who sat opposite him. His Lapdog Rikke next to him.
Galmar nudged the nord with his elbow, leaning in to whisper in his ear. "If this stalemate goes on for much longer, I may harm the Dragonborn."
Ulfric snorted softly. "She has chosen the Legion, you may yet be able to harm her."
Said woman rustled about some maps, trying to determine the best course of action with giving out territories to ensure that everyone is happy.
She may be a member of the Imperial Legion but she knows to be fair.
"Then Riften shall go to the Legion while-" The elf jumped as Galmar slammed his hand down onto the table.
"ENOUGH! I will not allow you to hand over every key point to these Imperial DOGS!"
Tullius rubbed his temple, arm on the stone slab of a table. "Yes, it is true that Riften allows us a direct trading route with Cyrodiil but this is the Dragonborn's decision."
Ulfric narrowed his eyes at the man. "Then she is choosing favourites after declaring to be fair and even in this so-called truce meeting."
Rikke jumped to her feet. "Giving you The Pale cut off trade routes across the sea, thank you very much, Stormclogs!"
"Lapdog!"
"Murderer!"
"Traitor!"
"ENOUGH!!"
The four standing, and yelling, people silence at the bellow from the elf at the head of the table.
The air crackled with energy and they quickly realised that she had barely contained a Shout.
The elf's red eyes narrowed. "Since you clearly will not listen to me, sort out your own mess. I only came to Skyrim to get some damn good-quality fur blankets."
The Dragonborn walked out of the room.
The silence was a pregnant whore.
Rikke cleared her throat. "We clearly cannot do this ourselves. We have to find a way to bring the Dragonborn back."
Three sounds of agreement came from the others and they poured into ideas.
"I heard from the market's in Windhelm that she likes horker steak."
"The Finest Raiment in Solitude says she has a slight obsession with circlets."
Then we get her horker steak and circlets!"
A week later, the Dragonborn in her Whiterun home had answered a knock at her door and nearly screamed.
Ulfric Stormcloak, General Tullius, Legate Rikke and Galmar Stone-Fist all stood outside her door, holding trays of horker steak and circlets of all types.
"Dragonborn, since we are fighting children, we need you to negotiate for us. Here are offerings!"
They spoke in unison and bowed, holding the trays out.
Even the elf, having gotten used to a life on a pedestal, felt frightened by this show of gifts.
(First fill I've done. I hope OP likes it. I've done my best. :3)