Skyrim Page 5 - "NAKED! Naked naked naked "

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“Don’t Shoot the Messenger” F!DB/Ulfric, Part 2d

[(Anonymous)]

Jaenna waited until it was well past midnight before she decided it was time to act. She uncorked one of her invisibility potions and downed the bitter contents. Her form rippled and faded. She could see the stone floor through her hand.

Of course, the potion could not affect her clothing as well. She shrugged out of her white nightclothes, lest someone see a disembodied dress and think she were a ghost. As she padded towards the door, the floor chilled her bare feet. At least this way, she would be able to move more silently.

Jaenna snuck out of her chambers. The halls were quiet, but she heard a guard inspecting one of the empty guest rooms. The dragonborn headed for the main hall.

Opening the door slowly, she peeked out. No one looked her way. The guards at the entrance to the Palace of the Kings stared straight ahead. Jaenna slipped out the door and closed it again. One of the soldiers twitched and looked her way. The potion worked, however, as he merely frowned and turned his gaze back towards the throne.

Jaenna hurried along the wall to the Jarl’s plan room, and then snuck through the door that led upstairs. She squeezed past another guard in the narrow hall, and eventually reached the highest doorway, which she knew had to be Ulfric’s personal chambers.

She prayed that he was asleep and opened the door.

There were no cries of alarm, so she crept inside. It was very dark. Shutting the door after herself, she looked around. There was a shadowy form resting on the bed, which was elevated on a three-tiered platform. Jaenna resisted the urge to snort. His bed was on a dais, just like his throne? Please.

The man snored lightly. Emboldened, Jaenna slipped to the side, inspecting the tables for any scraps of parchment or envelopes. When she found none, she tried the other table, with a similar lack of success. This, of course, meant that if he had any correspondence with the Imperial Legion, it was likely locked away in that chest at the base of his bed.

Biting back a groan, Jaenna went to check. Sure enough, it was locked tight. She sat back on her heels and considered. She went to check his wardrobes, patting down the pockets of his clothes for any sign of a key. Nothing. Next, she checked the bookshelves, seeing if he might have hidden the key in a secret compartment in one of the books. No luck.

If the Jarl was suspicious enough to lock up his things, he must have the key on his person.

Biting her lip, she crouched beside the Jarl’s bed. She saw his chest rise and fall with his breaths. The blankets were up to his chin. In the shadows of his face, she could see his closed eyes. A soft snore escaped his parted lips.

Jaenna wondered how badly she wanted to know the truth about the Imperial Legion and Ulfric Stormcloak. Bad enough to take this risk?

She had to know what they were all playing at. She wanted to know who was using her and who was benefiting from her confinement in the Palace of the Kings.

She had to know whom she’d kill first. No one betrayed the dragonborn!

Jaenna reached out to touch the edge of the blankets. Ever so slowly, she pulled back the one corner, exposing Ulfric’s bare chest. Angry, rope-like scars blemished his pale skin. Jaenna grimaced in sympathy, thinking for a moment that she could understand the fire fuelling the rebellion in his heart.

After revealing his shoulder, she spied a leather thong around his neck. Dangling from that strip of leather was a silver key.

Now this would be tricky.

If she cut the key off, he would know someone had been snooping through his things. If she tried to untie it from his neck, he would surely feel her touch and awaken. She may be invisible, but she wasn’t armed.

Some things were just not worth it. There had to be a better way. Cursing under her breath, Jaenna stood and backed away from the bed. Maybe she would request some hairpins from Hrothar tomorrow. She could always try to pick the lock—

Her foot slipped off one of the steps. With a sharp inhalation, Jaenna stumbled backwards and landed on the floor. She broke her fall by throwing out a hand, wincing at how the bones in her wrist ground in protest. Tears sprang out of the corners of her eyes.