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>When posting prompts, always remember to add kinks you're both looking for and wanting to avoid in a potential fill.
>When filling, please remember to add your story tags: characters, relationship types, kinks, series and universe (ie: skyrim)
>Our character limit here at LJ is 4300.
>If you have any other questions about posting, visit the HOW TO KINK MEME THREAD, under the Page Summary on your left.
“Don’t Shoot the Messenger” F!DB/Ulfric, Part 3a
Date: 2014-05-03 09:14 pm (UTC)She wondered if the Imperial Legion let Ulfric’s messengers go free.
She wondered if the Stormcloaks sent their most esteemed, important members on mundane courier runs.
Screw them both, Legion and Stormcloaks. Jaenna returned to her midday meal, baring her teeth at it. At least Ulfric’s actions she could understand – he had no allegiance with her. It was the Imperial Legion’s betrayal that really got her blood boiling.
Whenever the Jarl let her free of Windhelm, she’d do one of two things. First, she might show up in Solitude for a nice how you do. Alternatively, she might take herself far away from all the blasted politics, from all the people who moaned and complained and wanted her to do petty tasks for them. Let them realize how bloody hard she’d been working for all of them, and beg for her to come back.
Either option would do wonders in soothing her damaged ego.
“So, you are still in the Palace of the Kings,” Ulfric’s low voice said from the entrance to the kitchen.
She didn’t bother turning. “Have things become so boring without me pestering you that you are now returning the favour?” she asked sweetly.
The man walked up behind her. Jaenna’s shoulders stiffened. She felt his fingers touch her hair. In a flash, she leapt off her stool and whipped around. In the same motion, her hand closed around a tall candlestick and brandished it at him. She hoped he didn’t notice the tremor that went through her sore wrist. “What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.
“I heard the servants complaining there wasn’t any lavender soap left in the palace,” the man said, lips quirking.
“Oh, feel free to smell my hair and mark me a criminal!” Jaenna exclaimed. Then she cleared her throat. “Uh. A criminal for stealing your soap, that is. Which I’m not. Not a criminal. Because I had the servants bring me some.”
Ulfric gave her a bland look. “Of course. No one accused you of stealing. I have only heard the usual list of complaints: that you were terrorizing this servant or that solider, your general rudeness to the palace staff – you know, that sort of thing.”
“No one made me promise to be courteous,” Jaenna said. Keeping a wary eye on him, she sat back down before her half-eaten meal.
“Should I have?” Ulfric asked.
Jaenna considered. “Yes.”
“Any chance that you will promise that now?”
“On one condition.”
It was Ulfric’s turn to consider. He stepped around the table so he could see her face. “You do realize I am something of an expert in negotiating terms,” he said.
“Do you want to hear the condition or not?” Jaenna snapped.
Ulfric smiled. “Go on.”
“Return my sword,” Jaenna said, “and I will promise not to use it to threaten the servants.”
“But you will still threaten the guards?”
Jaenna fidgeted.
“And you will still threaten the servants and order them around, but without the sword?” Ulfric’s smile grew.
“I just want my sword back,” Jaenna growled.
The Jarl leaned against the table and folded his arms across his broad chest. “You may have your sword back,” he said, “if you agree to not threaten my soldiers or my servants. And if you agree to say ‘please’ and ‘thank-you’ when requesting – not ordering – anyone’s services.”
“No deal.”
Ulfric shrugged. “Then no sword.’
Jaenna shot him an apathetic look, her knuckles blanching around the grip she had on her butter knife.
The Jarl straightened. “Your loss. If you change your mind, come see me later and we will discuss this again. That is, if your pride can allow it.”
After he left the kitchen, Jaenna grabbed her goblet and took a deep drink. Into the cup she muttered, “We’ll see who loses what around here, Stormcloak.”
***