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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 7g
Date: 2014-06-05 05:16 am (UTC)Coughing on dust and smoke, Jaenna’s watering eyes tried to pierce the haze. Heat fanned against her face. Hadvar and the doorway were nowhere to be seen. She thought she heard his voice, distant and quiet beneath the roar of fire.
The wall of rubble had effectively sealed her inside the castle.
Shielding her face from the heat with one arm, Jaenna ran to the nearest window. A Shout shattered the glass and iron muntin bars outward. She jumped onto the second story window ledge, looking down on the courtyard scattered with bodies. Grimacing, she wiped off her sword and sheathed it, then lowered herself out the window.
She let go. When she hit the ground, she rolled to absorb the force of the impact. Smoke and screams filled the air. Jaenna turned her gaze towards the Blue Palace, thinking she could hear the shouts of more soldiers organizing. This was not an ideal situation; there’d be soldiers everywhere, assembling at the castle to defend Jarl Elisif.
Where was General Tullius? Surely, he hadn’t fled. That man would never flee. Even if logic dictated that he go to defend the Blue Palace, some inkling told Jaenna that he must still be in Castle Dour. The dungeons were the only place she had left to search.
Jaenna ducked back inside the collapsing building through the front doors. Smoke clouded her lungs. She coughed and breathed into the crook of her elbow, jogging for the dungeons. Once she’d gone down a level of stairs, the air cleared and became cool and dank. The rumble of stone and the roar of fire above faded away to a low, ominous grumble.
Jaenna heard voices, the jingle of keys. A man giving orders, his voice firm and unwavering. A smile crawled across her lips. Peering over the balcony, the dragonborn spotted General Tullius below, unlocking the prisoners from their cages and ordering guards to escort them to safety. The ceiling above shuddered again. Surely, it would soon collapse.
Jaenna stayed out of sight as the guards led the prisoners out of the dungeons through the doorway she’d entered by. Once the last ones had gone, Tullius followed. Jaenna stepped out from her hiding place and intercepted him before he could reach the doorway.
“Coming to look for me, now?” she grinned.
General Tullius halted, drawing his blade with a ring of steel. “Well, well. It would seem as if our snake-souled Jaenna has returned to the nest,” he spat.
Jaenna inclined her head. “I recognized your writing on that letter to Ulfric Stormcloak. I know you wanted me out of your hair. So sorry to disappoint, Tully.”
The man snorted, straightening and throwing back his shoulders. “He let you see that letter, did he? So you are a Stormcloak now, following that power-hungry usurper?” He laughed. “How changeable you are, Jaenna!”
“I’m no Stormcloak, Tullius. I’m on my own side, and my side doesn’t care about your war. I am only concerned with revenge.” She drew her own sword, enjoying the bloodthirsty whisper it made as it slid from its sheath.
The general didn’t deign to acknowledge her reply. “You’ve come to destroy the Imperial Legion over a petty insult in a letter.” He shook his head in mock sorrow. “I pity your Stormcloak allies. One day, some poor Stormcloak sod will tramp on the hem of your dress at that time of month, and you’ll blissfully annihilate Windhelm, too!” His eyes narrowed, his lips curling with contempt. “When that day comes, Skyrim will never belong to you Nords. No one will defend your country from the Dominion.”
Jaenna laughed. The sound of it was high, clear, and cutting. “Oh, my dear Tully, I am not here to destroy the Imperial Legion. Only you. I consider the others collateral damage. As for the Dominion… really? You think I care?”