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“Don’t Shoot the Messenger” F!DB/Ulfric, Part 9c

[(Anonymous)]

Jaenna woke in the middle of the night feeling better than she had in days. This time, it was not the sound of an assassin creeping across the room that made her eyes open. Ulfric had nuzzled her neck, ever so gently. It wasn’t supposed to wake her, but Jaenna stirred in his arms. She rolled to face him. They lay side by side, her head resting on his bicep. Jaenna reached up to touch his face, feeling the curve of a soft smile on his lips.

“You came back,” he said.

“You made me want to come back,” Jaenna replied. She drew back her hand, nibbling on her fingernails. “I’ve been thinking, though. Maybe I shouldn’t have.”

“What do you mean?” Ulfric frowned at her. In the darkness, she saw the downward turn of his lips.

“With the Imperial Legion out of the way, you’ll be free to take Solitude. I believe you will become the High King of Skyrim.”

“You do not want to see me as High King?”

“No, that’s not it at all,” the dragonborn said. “I will be happy that you have accomplished you goals.”

Ulfric chuckled, but it sounded uneasy. “You… do not want to be associated with the High King, then?” he asked, keeping his voice even.

Jaenna considered her words carefully. “You will need heirs. You’ll want a Stormcloak wife, Ulfric. And I will never be a Stormcloak.”

Ulfric was quiet.

Jaenna couldn’t bear his silence. She drew back from him a little, to better study his expressionless face. “I won’t tolerate being a mistress on the side, you must understand. A dragon is possessive. Either you are mine and I am yours, or there can be nothing between us.”

The Jarl growled softly. “I would never marry and keep a mistress on the side,” he said. He grabbed her shoulder, pulling her nearer, his eyes straining to see her face in the shadows. “On this matter, we agree entirely.”

His breath was hot on Jaenna’s face. She shivered.

“Would you marry me to become a High Queen of Skyrim?” he asked, his voice urgent. “For once I am High King, there will be no more need for Stormcloaks. Skyrim will be reunited once again.”

High Queen of Skyrim certainly had a nice ring to it. “I suspect it will be some time before you are High King, so don’t get too ahead of yourself,”Jaenna warned. “But I will consider it.”

“I will show you getting ahead of myself,” Ulfric muttered. The mattress dipped as he shifted to lie above her naked body, supporting himself on his elbows. “You will be mine.”

“My dear,” Jaenna replied, a smirk tugging her lips, “you are sadly mistaken.” She growled, dragging her fingernails down his hard chest. “You will be mine.” The dragonborn nipped at the soft skin of his throat, earning an answering growl.

Ulfric twisted away from her gentle bites to kiss her lips hungrily. He fumbled for his belt, sliding it free from the loops of his trousers. A moment later, he’d restrained both her wrists up against the bedposts.

Excitement stirred in Jaenna’s belly. She pouted at him. “You think that’s all it takes to make me yours?”

“For the night? I hope so.” Ulfric grinned and claimed her lips again.

Jaenna kissed him back, enjoying the moist, pliant fullness of his lips. She opened her mouth to him, exhaling, inviting. He responded, his tongue slipping inside to toy with hers. She shivered at the delicious feeling of invasion, savouring the brief moment where she let another dominate her with pleasure.

Jaenna felt the Jarl’s chest rumble. He shifted downward to suck lightly at her pulse. She twisted beneath his weight, trying to escape his hot mouth. The man only growled and sucked harder, making Jaenna moan.