skyrimkinkmeme | Skyrim Page 5 - "NAKED! Naked naked naked "

Skyrim Page 5 - "NAKED! Naked naked naked "

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“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?

The old man grit his jaw in frustration. What could he say to those warriors and politicians to sway them? What would compel the minds of those who played with the lives of others and valued so little? How could he even speak to them at all? His very voice was a weapon, honed through years of training, and he lacked the level of mastery that Arngeir had reached. No, he could do nothing. It was not even his place to do something. And as a Greybeard, speaking out might be viewed as a sign that the elders were not in fact, a neutral party in all this. It would have rendered the sacrifice of tainting the halls of High Hrothgar invalid. So he raged quietly, as both sides turned on each other and themselves.

It was the new Jarl of Solitude who spoke out this time. “So that's why you're here, Ulfric? You dare to insult the Greybeards by using this council to advance your own position?”

He quirked an eye at that. Perhaps there were a few who still respected the Greybeards, but for a defense to have come from one outside the order, to another who had been a member, was shameful.

Tullius attempted to cut her off. “Jarl Elisif, I'll handle this.”

“General, this is outrageous! You can't be taking this demand seriously! I thought we were here to discuss a truce!”

A wry smile smile tugged at his lips. This “Elisif” was a fiery one. The Dragonborn had spoken of her in passing, but had not been terribly impressed. The girl had seemed to consider the widow a friend, and Einarth wondered how the girl could find the lady wanting. She was not wrong in her understanding of what they hoped to accomplish here, though perhaps a touch naive. He could respect her indignation, but her effort to take Ulfric to task for his attempt to subvert the purpose of this meeting was… less polished than one might expect of the wife of the late High King. Still, polished or not, it mattered little: the damage had been done. Whatever objectives this meeting accomplished, a lasting peace would not be among them. This petty squabble over territory ensured that. There was no conceivable way that the people gathered here would be willing to let their perceived property go for long.

“Elisif! I said I'd handle it.” The general then turned to address the Jarl of Windhelm, “Ulfric, you can't seriously expect us to give up Markarth at the negotiating table. You hope to gain in council what you've been unable to take in battle, is that it?”

Einarth was not sure whether to be more impressed or wary of this warrior. While Tullius lacked Ulfric’s grand style, he spoke with the careful words and inflection of a politician; the hallmarks of a dangerous man of uncertain allegiance. It was clear from his brief exchange with Elisif, who was truly the one in power. Small wonder why the Dragonborn was wary of both sides in this war. Though the child felt that this was not her war, or even her country, she did not want to turn Skyrim over to a side she did not trust. What the girl wanted however, did not matter: this truce was going to be determined by trading holds and the people who lived in them. Taking part in this business meant that she would be called upon to settle the score in the end. It was only a matter of time now, and Einarth wondered if the girl realized that. If not, she would doubtless learn very soon, if the anger expressed by the Jarls was any indication.

“I’m sure Jarl Ulfric does not expect something for nothing.” Arngeir said dryly.

More muttering from the Imperial Nord seated to the Dragonborn’s left. He had to wonder at the frequent sarcasm directed at Ulfric. The wayward disciple was certainly frustrating, but the constant grumbling was starting to look personal. He did not have much time to ponder the thought, for Arngeir had pressed forward, ignoring the woman, in favor of brokering an exchange. “What would the Empire want in return?” When the general paused, the responses from his constituents were furious and swift. The Dragonborn tensed at Jarl Balgruuf’s caustic reaction, and Einarth worried on the girl’s behalf. If the man left now, their efforts would be for nothing. And, he supposed, the child feared losing the jarl’s esteem: Balgruuf had looked past her unjustly given criminal status without question, and set her on the path towards her destiny. It would be a terrible blow for her to lose his respect.

“Enough!” the general snapped. “First let’s be clear: this council wasn’t my idea. I think it’s a waste of time.”

The Greybeard heard, rather than saw, the creak of the girl’s leather gloves. She had probably balled her hands into fists at this latest insult, and Einarth worried at how much more stress she could take. What would she do if they could not broker a truce?

Ulfric seemed no less incensed than the Dragonborn, "Master Arngeir, are you just going to let him continue to--"

“You are a traitor to the Empire and deserve a traitor’s death. But I at least will negotiate in good faith.” Tullius, it seemed, had some grandstanding of his own to do, though it seemed to be more for his delegation than anything else. He then turned to the Dragonborn and asked her to determine the value of the trade. She started briefly, and took a calming breath as she considered her answer. The old man found himself resenting the Imperial, but he had to concede the skill with which he dealt the girl a terrible hand: the man had wasted few words trying to position himself favorably in the eyes of those present, and then had swiftly dropped the responsibility for the trade on the Dragonborn. If she chose poorly, it would damn her to one or both parties, and at best she could only hope for begrudging compliance. The fact that she had to choose at all damned her, for it meant she could not hide behind the choices of others. The girl was now not only responsible for this meeting, but for everything that went into this treaty. She would be responsible for all the lives affected by it as well. Well played, you conniving...

Slowly, the girl spoke, “How about Riften?”

The Imperial considered the idea, and seemed to approve of her choice. But Einarth could not be certain of the trade, for Ulfric and his second stood up from their seats in anger. Of course, the general could not resist a jab of his own, at that. “You heard what she said, Ulfric. We’ve made you a fair offer. Are you serious about these talks or are you just here to posture?”

The Jarl of Windhelm ignored him and accosted the girl. “I expected better from you Dragonborn. I came here in good faith, and now it seems you help the Empire at every turn.” He did not allow the girl a chance to defend her decision, and launched into another tirade: “As for you, General Tullius. I see now that Galmar was right: talking to the Empire is just as useless as ever. If you think you can hold Markarth, you’re as deluded as your emperor was when he signed away our freedom to the Thalmor. Skyrim will never again bow to your false empire! Let’s go Galmar. I should have listened to you in the first place.”

When Ulfric turned to leave, the girl seemed to have recovered from her shock. Alarm filled Einarth as she grabbed the table and made to stand. She looked furious, and he worried at what she might do until the general spoke up, unable to resist a parting shot. Whatever fight she might have had in her utterly deflated in that moment, and Einarth saw the girl turn desperately to face Arngeir, himself at a loss for words. Einarth closed his eyes in resignation. As loath as he was to even think it, Ulfric’s companion may not have been too far off from the truth. Perhaps it truly was hopeless to try to reason with warriors…

“Stop! Are you so blind to the danger, that you can’t see past your petty disagreements?”

It was Delphine’s companion who spoke, and Einarth dared to hope that the man might be able to salvage the situation. “Here you sit arguing about nothing! While the fate of the land hangs in the balance!”

“Is he with you, Delphine? If so, I advise you to tell him to watch his tongue.” Ulfric did not bother to hide his disdain for the old man, and his voice dripped with disgust.

The Blade’s response was sharp. “He is with me. And I advise you both to listen to what he has to say, before you do anything rash.” Her companion resumed his speech after her reprimand:

“Don't you understand the danger? Don't you understand what the return of the dragons means? Alduin has returned! The World-Eater! Even now, he devours the souls of your fallen comrades! He grows more powerful with every soldier slain in your pointless war! Can you not put aside your hatred for even one moment in the face of this mortal danger?”

“A very pretty speech, but what does it have to do with-”

Ulfric cut off the elf he abhorred so much. “Shut up. If he's right about Alduin... we both have just as much to lose here, Tullius, remember that.”

“I don't know about the end of the world, but this dragon situation has gotten out of hand. If this truce will help the Dragonborn here put an end to that menace, we both gain.” The general seemed skeptical, but as an outsider who was willing to negotiate, his inability to accept the magnitude of Skyrim’s prophecies might be overlooked. This time, at least. Einarth suspected that the man did not care much for the province he had been sent to deal with. It was a worrying thought. He put it aside however, in order to observe the talks. There would be plenty of time to consider the implications of this treaty later...

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