Chapter 34: Diplomatic Dovahkiin 3/3
The fanged white tip of the throat of the world loomed over the courtyard of High Hrothgar. If one listened carefully, past the narrow streams of crying wind, roars of an old beast lingered on descrying ears.
Two figures sat on the steps that led to the castle. Watching the embers of the setting sun over the ever spewing red mountain that peaked through the distant clouds.
"You think he'll show after you had your little temper tantrum?" Ciri blandly asked, staring ahead.
"No idea... In hindsight i should've just swallowed the insult." Lucius responded just as bland, reflecting on his actions.
A stretched silenced played as they continued their leisurely stares.
"You were a momma's boy weren't you~" Ciri cooed in fun mocking.
"Yup." Lucius said popping the p. "I'm not embarrassed by it either." He finished, steering his gaze from the sun for a moment.
"Tell me what she was like then. We've got nothing but time until the leaders show." Ciri requested, shuffling closer to him.
"Why not?" Lucius asked himself. "What'd do you want to know?"
"Hmm... What did she look like? That's a good start." She voiced, after tapping her chin.
"White hair and grey eyes, similar to my own. She loved roses, and had a weird attraction to dresses with roses on them, i never quite understood that. Slim but she wasn't strong physically... Good mage though." He smiled in thought, and laid back on the stone. "She would've liked you... Always yammered on about how women should defend themselves." He laughed.
"Sounds like she was a good woman." Ciri shared his smile. "Strange that she ended up with your "cunt" of a father then, huh?" She curiously probed.
"I don't know how that happened either... I do know he was shamed by his family and peers for it though. It was beneath an Altmer to lay with a lesser, or some stupid shit like that." He replied.
"Enough about me. What are yours like? A monster hunter and a sorceress...Sounds like a drunk poet's lovechild." He joked.
"Well, it's a bit complicated. A wish bound them together after Geralt tried saving his "drunk poet" friend by contacting a sorceress to heal him." She smiled, amused at Lucius's wording. "Geralt is a gruff block of stone to most, but to people who truly know him i'd say he's the best type of friend you could have. Loyal, witty and would help, even if it meant risking himself in the process. However, my mother, Yennefer, is a whole different case. She shares some qualities with you. Enigmatic, smart. She loves magic, power, lore....Oh, and sex." She grinned at a now shocked Lucius.
"Hey! Where'd that come from?" He yelped, some flushed embarrassment on his cheeks.
Ciri burst out laughing at the look on his face.
"Dovahkiin. The guests have come, but we have three unexpected visitors that arrived with them." Arngeir informed Lucius, walking out of the keep.
"Ahem, looks like Ulfric still came then." Lucius said after composing himself. "I'll deal with it, take me to them." He requested.
.
.
.
"What's the problem?" Lucius asked eyeing the blades that stood at the entrance.
"We have a right to be here!" Delphine shrieked.
"Do you?" Lucius replied, genuinely confused. "It's a meeting between two parties to hold a truce... How do you fit in here?" He finished.
"We can provide proof of the dragons." She confidently replied.
"You mean the dragons that are burning their soldiers and supply routes...?" He sarcastically drawled. "Just come in." He caved, not wanting to gain a headache before the meeting.
"So, you've done it. The men of violence are gathered here, in these halls whose very stones are dedicated to peace. I should not have agreed to host this council. The Greybeards have no business involving themselves in such matters." Arngeir spoke to Lucius as he guided him and Ciri through the halls.
"It was the only way to get Balgruuf's help." Ciri assured the sad man.
They stopped at the entrance to the room as arngeir spun to face the duo.
"Yes, yes. Which is why I allowed this... violation of all our traditions. But regrets are pointless. Here we are. Take your seat at the council table and let us see what wisdom we can find among these warriors of Skyrim." Arngeir finished, and turned to take a seat at the tables head.
The sounds of heated arguments already echoed throughout the keep as Ulfric's voice bellowed out demands.
Ciri and Lucius glanced at each other, not noticing the light footsteps from behind.
"And so we meet again. But this time I know who and what you really are... I'll give you credit for boldness." A hostile, but very familiar voice sounded in Lucius ear.
'Oh shit.' He cursed internally, slowly turning his head to meet slightly teary golden eyes.
"H-hey El-" He began.
"Save it for the new whore." She shut down and pushed past into the room.
"Damn." He whispered.
"Well...Good taste at least." He heard Ciri mutter, as she eyed Elenwen's figure.
Lucius sighed and made his way to his char opposite Arngeir, as Ciri leant on the wall behind him, ignoring Elenwen's glare.
A large room, a fire in the centre, with a long stone table ringing itself around the fire in an oval shape.
All prominent figures in Skyrim were present. General Tullius, Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl Balgruuf and even the widowed Jarl Elisif herself.
"Now that we are all seated, let us we begin." Arngeir announced.
Ulfric stood, glaring at Elenwen. "You insult us by bringing her here! There will be no discussion with her present!" He hissed, fire in his eyes.
"Why the hostility? It's not the Aldmeri dominion killing and burning your sons and daughters." She sweetly smiled, as Lucius had to stop himself from laughing. "I have every right to be at this negotiation. I need to ensure the agreement doesn't break the terms of the white gold concordat." She declared.
"She's part of the imperial delegation, you can't dictate who comes in my party." Tullius said.
"Please. If we have to negotiate the negotiation, we won't get anywhere." Arngeir tried intervening. "Perhaps, it's time we get the dragonborn's input on the matter?"
"The nerve, eh? Those imperial bastards." Ulfric tried being friendly to Lucius. "To think they would have me sit at the same table with that.... Thalmor bitch. Either she walks or i do." He claimed.
Lucius veiled a grin with his ringed hand. "She can stay. You wouldn't want the imperials and the Thalmor running you down, would you?" Lucius replied.
Ulfric ground his teeth. "Fine. I'll bow to your judgement on this."
"Now that we have settled, may we proceed." Arngeir sighed.
"I have something to say first." Ulfric voiced. "I'm only here for the dragonborn and the dragon threat. i consider even talki-"
"Are you done? Did you come here for petty speeches? or can we get to an agreement already?" Lucius interrupted, with an annoyed sigh.
Ulfric huffed and sat down.
"Jarl Ulfric. General Tullius." Lucius began. "This council is unprecedented. We are gathered here at the my own request. I ask that you all respect the spirit of High Hrothgar and the Greybeards, and do your best to begin the process of achieving a lasting peace in Skyrim until i can face Alduin. Who would like to open the negotiations?" He finished, in a noble manner.
"Yes, let's get down to it. We want control of Markarth. That's our price for agreeing to a truce." Ulfric set out his first demand.
"So that's why you're here, Ulfric? You dare to insult the Greybeards by using this council to advance your own position?" Elisif stated with a sour face.
"Jarl Elisif, I'll handle this." Tullius tried quieting the young girl.
"General, this is outrageous! You can't be taking this demand seriously! I thought we were here to discuss a truce!" She exclaimed.
"Elisif! I said I'd handle it. Ulfric, you can't seriously expect us to give up Markarth at the negotiating table. You hope to gain in council what you've been unable to take in battle, is that it?" General Tullius questioned.
"We've taken it before. I'm only asking for what will be ours soon enough anyway." Ulfric arrogantly responded.
"I'm sure Jarl Ulfric does not expect something for nothing." Lucius cut in, leaning back in his chair.
"Yes, that'd be entirely out of character." Ciri mumbled behind him.
"What would the Empire want in return?" Arngeir asked.
"Wait. General, you don't intend to just hand over Markarth to that... traitor!" Elisif continued in her outrage.
"This is how the Empire repays us for our loyalty?" Balgruuf said.
"You lost the trust of the people of Skyrim, Elisif. You had your chance to make the right choice when the war started." A man cloaked in bear hide mocked.
"Enough! First, let's be clear. This council wasn't my idea. I think it's a waste of time. You are a traitor to the Empire, and deserve a traitor's death. But I at least will negotiate in good faith." Tullius declared over the others.
"Fine. Riften for Markarth. The Empire gains communication and supplies with Cyrodiil, and the stormcloaks get the silver mines. That's as fair as you'll get." Lucius stated.
"Yes, a fair offer." Tullius agreed.
"If you think we'll just hand over Riften, you're as deluded as your Emperor when he signed away our freedom to the Thalmor. You're different from what I expected, Dragonborn. You treat us with respect, despite your known sympathies." Ulfric said.
'Respect? Is this guy alright?' Lucius pondered.
"it's still not enough." Ulfric finished.
"What more do you want? It's a truce not a peace treaty?" Lucius replied.
"Don't hand me a mug of sheep's piss and call it Colovian brandy. These terms are still not acceptable. Riften for Markarth was a fair deal, any more and your pushing the line of negotiations." Tullius declared.
"Don't you understand the danger? Don't you understand what the return of the dragons means? Alduin has returned! The World-Eater! Even now, he devours the souls of your fallen comrades! He grows more powerful with every soldier slain in your pointless war! Can you not put aside your hatred for even one moment in the face of this mortal danger?" Esbern cried out.
"A very pretty speech, but what does it have to do with the negotiations?" Elenwen questioned with a raised brow.
"Everything... That's why we're here in the first place." Ciri's sarcastic quip bounced around the stone room.
"If you hand over Falkreath we can call it a deal." Ulfric demanded.
"Should i hand you all of Skyrim on a platter too?" Tullius mocked. "No!"
"It's a dying town full of dead bodies and wood." Lucius's bored voice sprung. "There's not much value in the hold... Even from a military standpoint. Too mountainous to maintain without spreading your troops too thin. He's doing you a favour in taking it in my opinion." Lucius tried convincing the imperial side.
"Hmm, and we could use the troops in our other efforts... I agree." Tullius hummed. "These are acceptable terms if the Stormcloaks compensate us for the massacre at Karthwasten." He finished.
"Fine we agree." Ulfric quickly agreed.
"Markarth will be trading for Riften, and Falkreath will be handed over to the Stormcloaks, who will compensate the imperial loses at the village of Karthwasten. All hostilities will be withheld until the dragon menace is dealt with... Have we reach a suitable agreement?" Arngeir stated.
Seeing both sides nod Arngeir stood to leave with a heavy sigh.
"The sons of Skyrim will keep to the agreement as long as the imperials hold to theirs." Ulfric declared. "What about you, Elisif? Are the terms to your liking?" He mocked. "Well? Speak up!"
"I have nothing to say to that murderer." She whimpered.
"Well done dragonborn. That was as fair as possible i'm afraid." Balgruuf approached Lucius, who was glancing at Elenwen's direction.
"Me and my men will be waiting." The jarl quickly finished, seeing Lucius's attention was elsewhere.
"Thank you, Jarl." Lucius idly replied, and stood to make his way over to his old flame.
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So tired...
I can't wait to get to Middle Earth because a lot of the dialogue in these recent chapters have been me trying to keep to a vague script.
Have a good one,
Your "patently evil" Author ;)
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