“Please. If we have to negotiate the terms of the negotiation, we will never get anywhere. Perhaps this would be a good time to get the Dragonborn's input on this matter.”
Well. He certainly hadn’t expected Arngeir to call upon the girl to settle the matter. And he certainly hadn’t expected her to actually be able talk the upstart down. A smile actually pulled at his mouth at that, and hope stirred within him. Granted, it wasn’t much, but then the elf soured whatever amusement he might have found in the incident, by taking a none too subtle jab at the boy. Ulfric, for his part, could not help but take the bait. Einarth pursed his lips. For all that they had worked to instill patience and caution in the boy, it seemed to have come to nothing. And yet, it was painfully clear that none of the individuals gathered here wanted the Thalmor Agent there. Not even the Imperials. Politics.
Arngeir addressed the gathering again. “Now that that’s settled, may we proceed?”
“I have something to say first.” Einarth felt a rush of exasperation at yet another interruption from Ulfric. It seemed he was not alone in this sentiment, for one of the Imperials muttered something under her breath. The old man wished he could see the Dragonborn’s expression, but judging from the barest tilt of her head, he imagined that she was far from impressed.
“The only reason I agreed to attend this council, was to deal with the dragon menace. There’s nothing else to talk about. Unless the Empire is finally ready to renounce it’s unjust claim to rule over the free people of Skyrim. We’re here to arrange a temporary truce to allow the Dragonborn here, to deal with the dragons. Nothing more. I consider even talking to the Empire a generous gesture.”
What was he playing at? Such pointless posturing served no purpose. If the boy hoped to model his behavior after that of Skyrim’s heroes, it was a poor imitation. Perhaps even a mockery. The only thing such grandstanding accomplished was demonstrate his insecurity. Arngeir had maintained a largely stone-faced composure, but the set of his jaw betrayed his emotions. Einarth felt sympathy for his peer, though he did not share the depth of his pain. A pain that had surely been renewed in light of his disciple’s behavior.
Arngeir was notably short in his third attempt to begin the meeting. “Are we ready to proceed?”
This time, there were no interruptions, and the elder continued: “Jarl Ulfric. General Tullius. This council is unprecedented. We are gathered here at the Dragonborn’s request. I ask that you all respect the spirit of High Hrothgar, and do your best to begin the process of achieving lasting peace in Skyrim. Who would like to open the negotiations?”
Yet again, it was the boy who spoke first. Einarth suspected that he was beginning to feel the onset of a headache.
“We want control of Markarth. That's our price for agreeing to a truce.”
That impudent…!
He might have staggered, for all Einarth knew. The ferocity of the boy’s avarice was beyond comprehension. What sort of man would allow such pettiness to override the gravity of the situation? If they failed to secure a truce, the Dragonborn could not stop the World Eater! She would not be able to get near enough to even make an attempt. And the God of Destruction could NOT be allowed to escape again. As one who had immersed himself in Skyrim's most revered traditions and lore, Ulfric had no excuse for his behavior. If even one who had studied the prophecies did not care, what hope was there to be had of the others?
Re: A Hero for Skyrim 5/?
Well. He certainly hadn’t expected Arngeir to call upon the girl to settle the matter. And he certainly hadn’t expected her to actually be able talk the upstart down. A smile actually pulled at his mouth at that, and hope stirred within him. Granted, it wasn’t much, but then the elf soured whatever amusement he might have found in the incident, by taking a none too subtle jab at the boy. Ulfric, for his part, could not help but take the bait. Einarth pursed his lips. For all that they had worked to instill patience and caution in the boy, it seemed to have come to nothing. And yet, it was painfully clear that none of the individuals gathered here wanted the Thalmor Agent there. Not even the Imperials. Politics.
Arngeir addressed the gathering again. “Now that that’s settled, may we proceed?”
“I have something to say first.” Einarth felt a rush of exasperation at yet another interruption from Ulfric. It seemed he was not alone in this sentiment, for one of the Imperials muttered something under her breath. The old man wished he could see the Dragonborn’s expression, but judging from the barest tilt of her head, he imagined that she was far from impressed.
“The only reason I agreed to attend this council, was to deal with the dragon menace. There’s nothing else to talk about. Unless the Empire is finally ready to renounce it’s unjust claim to rule over the free people of Skyrim. We’re here to arrange a temporary truce to allow the Dragonborn here, to deal with the dragons. Nothing more. I consider even talking to the Empire a generous gesture.”
What was he playing at? Such pointless posturing served no purpose. If the boy hoped to model his behavior after that of Skyrim’s heroes, it was a poor imitation. Perhaps even a mockery. The only thing such grandstanding accomplished was demonstrate his insecurity. Arngeir had maintained a largely stone-faced composure, but the set of his jaw betrayed his emotions. Einarth felt sympathy for his peer, though he did not share the depth of his pain. A pain that had surely been renewed in light of his disciple’s behavior.
Arngeir was notably short in his third attempt to begin the meeting. “Are we ready to proceed?”
This time, there were no interruptions, and the elder continued: “Jarl Ulfric. General Tullius. This council is unprecedented. We are gathered here at the Dragonborn’s request. I ask that you all respect the spirit of High Hrothgar, and do your best to begin the process of achieving lasting peace in Skyrim. Who would like to open the negotiations?”
Yet again, it was the boy who spoke first. Einarth suspected that he was beginning to feel the onset of a headache.
“We want control of Markarth. That's our price for agreeing to a truce.”
That impudent…!
He might have staggered, for all Einarth knew. The ferocity of the boy’s avarice was beyond comprehension. What sort of man would allow such pettiness to override the gravity of the situation? If they failed to secure a truce, the Dragonborn could not stop the World Eater! She would not be able to get near enough to even make an attempt. And the God of Destruction could NOT be allowed to escape again. As one who had immersed himself in Skyrim's most revered traditions and lore, Ulfric had no excuse for his behavior. If even one who had studied the prophecies did not care, what hope was there to be had of the others?