“Dragonborn…” The Jarl let her eyes wander hesitantly over her pale face.. “May we speak in private?” “Of course, my Jarl. And please, it’s Agrid.” Elisif followed the Dragonborn down the hall and to the right, up the steps to the third floor. The floor was split into two rooms; a room with a two chairs and a wooden table, and the master bedroom. Agrid lead them to the table and held the chair out for Elisif to sit, and then took the other chair. She pulled a bottle of wine closer to her and uncorked it. “Elisif, you look unsettled,” Agrid said, pouring two goblets of wine. She moved the second goblet closer to Elisif and then wrapped her long, calloused fingers around her own goblet. “Please, tell me what is going on.” “Dragonborn…” She stopped herself. “I’m sorry. Agrid… I came to you tonight because I have no one else to turn to.” She pulled her wine closer to her and stared at the rosy red liquid. “I used to turn to my husband, but…” “I’m sorry.” Agrid reached out for Elisif’s knee, hesitated, then brought her hand back into her own lap. She looked down, blonde hair falling over her shoulders. “It was a terrible discovery to learn of Torygg’s death.” “Even more terrible for me to discover his body.” Elisif brought the goblet to her lips and sipped. The wine was sweet with a hint of tartness. Agrid said nothing, but offered her condolences with a thin-lipped nod. “The Empire wants me to decide,” Elisif continued. “Divines help me, I want to be a good ruler to my people. I want to be the High Queen. I do. But…” “But if you allow the Empire to aid you in securing your place, you will become the puppet on the end of their many strings,” Agrid finished. Elisif brought her gaze up to the woman in front of her and sighed. “I need help, and I don’t want it from them.” Agrid’s chin rose slightly. “You want my help.” “Yes.” Elisif scooted closer to the edge of her chair, her back straight, her feet daintily pressed side by side beneath her chair. “Agrid, you are a true daughter of Skyrim. Countless tries by both the Empire and the Stormcloaks to have you in their ranks are constantly slapped down by your firm resolve to stay neutral in this war. I admire that.” “Don’t get me wrong,” Agrid said, “I fully agree with Ulfric – Skyrim should be free. But I don’t want a prick like him ruling.” She smirked and sipped her wine, one arm flung over the back of the chair.
My Queen 2/3
“Of course, my Jarl. And please, it’s Agrid.”
Elisif followed the Dragonborn down the hall and to the right, up the steps to the third floor. The floor was split into two rooms; a room with a two chairs and a wooden table, and the master bedroom. Agrid lead them to the table and held the chair out for Elisif to sit, and then took the other chair. She pulled a bottle of wine closer to her and uncorked it.
“Elisif, you look unsettled,” Agrid said, pouring two goblets of wine. She moved the second goblet closer to Elisif and then wrapped her long, calloused fingers around her own goblet. “Please, tell me what is going on.”
“Dragonborn…” She stopped herself. “I’m sorry. Agrid… I came to you tonight because I have no one else to turn to.” She pulled her wine closer to her and stared at the rosy red liquid. “I used to turn to my husband, but…”
“I’m sorry.” Agrid reached out for Elisif’s knee, hesitated, then brought her hand back into her own lap. She looked down, blonde hair falling over her shoulders. “It was a terrible discovery to learn of Torygg’s death.”
“Even more terrible for me to discover his body.” Elisif brought the goblet to her lips and sipped. The wine was sweet with a hint of tartness.
Agrid said nothing, but offered her condolences with a thin-lipped nod.
“The Empire wants me to decide,” Elisif continued. “Divines help me, I want to be a good ruler to my people. I want to be the High Queen. I do. But…”
“But if you allow the Empire to aid you in securing your place, you will become the puppet on the end of their many strings,” Agrid finished.
Elisif brought her gaze up to the woman in front of her and sighed. “I need help, and I don’t want it from them.”
Agrid’s chin rose slightly. “You want my help.”
“Yes.” Elisif scooted closer to the edge of her chair, her back straight, her feet daintily pressed side by side beneath her chair. “Agrid, you are a true daughter of Skyrim. Countless tries by both the Empire and the Stormcloaks to have you in their ranks are constantly slapped down by your firm resolve to stay neutral in this war. I admire that.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” Agrid said, “I fully agree with Ulfric – Skyrim should be free. But I don’t want a prick like him ruling.” She smirked and sipped her wine, one arm flung over the back of the chair.