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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 5c
Date: 2014-05-09 05:22 am (UTC)“And it is so bloody difficult to tell if they’ve been tampered with after the documents whether a trip across Skyrim in a soldier’s pocket,” Ulfric muttered. “That they are intercepting our couriers would explain a lot of my army’s recent… dysfunctions. I can only trust Galmar to get things done. He should be back tomorrow, and we will have a legitimate report then.” As he spoke, he withdrew a map of Skyrim from his pocket and began studying it.
Jaenna only nodded, surprised he was being so forthcoming. She finished her breakfast (more of a midday meal, now) while he plotted new courier routes across the country.
“So,” Ulfric said after she’d finished the remainder of her meal in peace. “How did you get your sword back?” He didn’t smile, but his eyes crinkled ever so slightly.
Jaenna inclined her head, showing off the barrettes in her hair. “You left these out, of course,” she lied.
Ulfric blinked, but didn’t seem to believe her. He felt his neck and noticed the key was missing. He scowled. “Does this mean you will give me my own sword back, now that we are on more even terms?”
“Even?” Jaenna stood from the bench and grinned. “My Jarl, we are just beginning to get even.”
Tossing Ulfric his key and winking at a dumbfounded Jorleif, Jaenna sauntered away. Just before leaving the main hall, she paused. A devious idea occurred to her. “Ulfric,” she called, “Speak with me this evening, and I will give you back your sword.”
***
That afternoon found the dragonborn busy at the alchemy lab once again. There was certainly an advantage to being an alchemist – after all, what was she going to do? Go down to the Windhelm market and buy a potion to ward of babies? Ask the steward to fetch one for her? Now that would provoke some interesting questions.
Jaenna was reading on her bed quite late into the night when the Jarl’s knock finally sounded at her door. It was soft. He was being discreet. The dragonborn smirked and reached under the mattress. She’d stolen a silver broach from Ulfric’s chest, which had a sharp-looking pin. It was tucked there against the bedframe, along with that special, potent potion she’d made the other day.
Jaenna got out of the bed and set aside her book before opening the door. Ulfric stood there, his arms folded across his chest. He’d already set aside his armour and was dressed simply, probably ready to go to bed after he reclaimed his weapon.
She pouted at him. “Don’t look so upset,” she said, grabbing his hand and tugging him inside. She closed the door after him. “Would you like to have a seat?” she asked, motioning towards her bed. There weren’t any chairs.
Ulfric stopped pretending to look grumpy and sat down. The mattress squeaked under his weight. The dragonborn watched him with hooded eyes.
“I’ve been thinking about last night,” she purred. She came to sit beside him.
Ulfric regarded her warily. He was being suspicious again. She’d have to remedy that.
Jaenna leaned forward and kissed him. It took him a moment to respond. His big hand lifted to cup her cheek, and his lips parted at her prompting. Jaenna laid a hand on his chest and felt his heartbeat quicken.
Ulfric managed to break away, catching his breath. “You are up to something,” he said, studying her. “Where is my sword?”
“Please do not make me resort to using bad puns in the bedroom,” Jaenna chuckled. She tried to push him back on the bed, but he did not budge.