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“Don’t Shoot the Messenger” F!DB/Ulfric, Part 7a

[(Anonymous)]

Sometime deep in the night, Jaenna’s eyes opened. She continued to breathe softly, her cheek pressed against Ulfric’s back, her head almost hidden beneath the blankets. She could hear his steady heartbeat – and something else.

There was a quiet shuffling, and then a sound that caused her hackles to rise – the faint ring of steel. Jaenna’s muscles tensed. She stayed still beneath the blankets, not wanting her lambent eyes to give her away. Her fingers gripped the covers tightly.

She heard the dagger whistling through the air. Moving lightning-quick, Jaenna lifted the blankets and snapped them taunt. The dagger plunged through the fabric as she jerked the covers. The hilt tangled, the blade pulled off course and narrowly missing Ulfric’s heart. A red trail appeared down his back. She smelled the blood and felt him jerk awake.

Jaenna snarled and twisted the blankets around his assailant’s arm. The intruder let out a surprised yelp as she bodily heaved him onto the bed, his arm and dagger trapped in a net of sheets.

They both rolled and tumbled off the opposite side of the bed. Jaenna fell on top. Straddling the assassin, she reached for her sword lying by the bed. She whipped it out of its sheath and stabbed it into the writhing form twisted in blankets beneath her. There was a low moan. Red blossomed through the white sheets.

Breathing harshly, Jaenna stood and kicked the dead man away from her. His body thudded down the steps.

Ulfric sat up, his eyes wide and staring in the darkness. She could see him well in the shadows, but his human eyes would have a hard time separating her from the darkness. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“I think so,” he replied. He felt his side, as if convincing himself that the dagger hadn’t found a vital organ. “Just a scratch.” He covered his eyes with one hand. “Taking you into my bed?” he began with a shaky laugh. “Best. Decision. Ever.”

Jaenna laughed too, but it came out weak. “Has the Imperial Legion sent assassins before?”

“Yes, but only one other has made it this far unnoticed,” Ulfric replied, “And that time, I heard him.”

“Maybe this one was an expert illusion mage,” she said. “Hid himself, weapons and all, under a spell.” She pursed her lips. “If so, it’s not likely to happen again soon. Not so many expert illusionists and even fewer willing to play assassin for the Imperial Legion. Those invisibility spell scrolls are also obscenely expensive.”

Ulfric let out a low groan. He pitched sideways, collapsing back down on the bed.

“Ulfric?” Jaenna jumped onto the bed and reached out to touch his chest. He was warm and his pulse was racing.

“I don’t feel… well,” he croaked.

Jaenna leapt off the bed and dove for the assassin’s body. Untangling the sheets, she found his dagger and sniffed. A recognizable, acrid scent tickled her nostrils. Poison!

She returned to Ulfric’s side, touching his face. “You’ve been poisoned. I know an antidote. However, if you call for help, they won’t let me near you. You’ll have to wait until I get back.”

Ulfric stared into her eyes, his face damp with perspiration. He reached up and squeezed her arm. After a moment, he nodded.

Dizzy that he trusted her – considering his death was one of the conditions to her freedom – Jaenna dashed from his bedroom.

A soldier met her in the hallway and she shoved past him. He yelled after her, but Jaenna ignored his words. Sprinting down the main hall and climbing the stairs towards the alchemy station two at a time, she slid into the room and crashed against the table.

Hands shaking, she fished around in the darkness, her eyes gleaming like mirrors. Eventually, she found charred skeever hide. She set the solution heating, the minutes creeping by. She added blue mountain flowers, mudcrab chitin, and even vampire dust.