A day later, the Jarls returned to continue their discussion, unfortunately, the arguments also began anew, annoying everyone involved, despite the fact that most were contributing to it to some extent.
No one could agree on what exactly should be done... Some suggested just allowing each individual Jarl to field their own military. The way it was now basically had the town guard as the only force the Jarls could use, making them rely on Solitude and the Empire.
Of course, this didn't really matter to Ulfric and the other rebels, as they needed to field their own armies in order to wage war, so it was given. Torygg was actually for this, despite the many words spouted by their resident Thalmor Ambassador to the contrary.
Unfortunately, it was already too late to employ this measure to assist loyalist Jarls lands since most of their able-bodied men had already been drafted.
The only real adversary to this was Jarl Igrod, since she wished for the safety of her hold to be in High King Torygg and the Empire's hands, taking no personal responsibility for the matter.
In the end though, it was enacted, allowing every Jarl to create their own military force separate from the town guard.
Many hours later with many other ideas enacted or rejected, the discussion was put on hold for the next and last day.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ulfric shuffles out of the hall with an exasperated and tired expression, Galmar quickly making his way to his Jarl's side.
"How did it go, Ulfric?" the large Nord asks, leaving the potential duel left unsaid.
"As you'd expect." Ulfric huffs, "Things proceed normally while the elf bitch squawks from the sidelines. Torygg sits there like a silent priest, waiting for solutions to be handed to him, and the loyalists seem to think that I'm evil incarnate... Well, Igrod does, Igmund and Balgruuf seem to be apathetic to the Empire right now..."
"And the new Jarl, Brynjolf?" Galmar questions as the duo exit the Blue Palace and into the streets of Solitude.
Ulfric lets a smile show, "The leader of the Thieves Guild is the same as always, searching for cost-effective means, and schemes that'd grant him leverage." he pauses, "He did seem strangely insistent on Michael Tahlin's innocence... Do we know if they have any relation?"
Galmar shakes his head, "Not that I know of, Michael was apparently in Riften a while ago though...? It's possible, likely even."
They continue quietly discussing things until they find themselves in Solitude's marketplace, both ignoring the glares they received from the citizens who recognised them for who they were. By now everyone in the city knew they were here, so almost everyone was talking about it, along with what they thought of it.
"Thinking about something, Ulfric?" Galmar asks after noticing his friend's forlorn look.
"No... Just wondering if what we're doing is the right thing. Whether it'll be for the good of Skyrim in the end."
Galmar drops a hand on Ulfric's shoulder, "I know it is, you know it is, stop-" he starts but is interrupted as three figures approach...
Elenwen and two robed Thalmor mages.
She steps forward with a 'friendly' smile, "Oh, bonding here in public? Who would have thought the traitor liked to frost someone else's sweet role?"
"Fuck off, bitch." Ulfric growls as he stops Galmar from attacking her.
"So impolite. I thought you would have recognised an old acquaintance, we used to get on so well..." she drawls, confusing Ulfric.
"What do you mean? Did I run your father through in the Great War? Did I slaughter your kin?... Good."
Elenwen shakes her head, "No... I'm surprised, it was unforgettable. You listening so attentively you were unable to move, me poking and prodding you..."
Ulfric growls, "Get to the point, I don't have time to listen to you squeak."
Elenwen grins, "Don't you remember? 'South of the Imperial City, weakness in the infrastructure.'"
Ulfric's eyes widen as the realisation hits him, phantom pains returning in full force, almost causing him to stumble to his knees were it not for Galmar's sudden support.
He remembered those words well, words he forced himself to remember despite the agonizing torture he'd been put through at the hands of the elves during the Great War. He heard conversations including the phrase many, many times, and only after the war had he realised that it was only a plot. A plot to brainwash him into tricking the Imperial forces to reinforce the wrong defences... It didn't matter in the end, since the Imperial City had already been taken by the time he returned so he'd not spoken the phrase to anyone... Meaning, it was her.
Elenwen had been one of the elves that'd tortured him, scared him even to this day.
Elenwen, who had plotted to have him inadvertently betray the Empire.
Elenwen, who'd murdered his men in front of him because he refused to say anything.
Rage like no other hit him, forcing him to stand straight as he glares hatefully at the elf, his throat itching to shout her to Oblivion.
"Ulfric!" Galmar exclaims before turning to Elenwen, "What did you do, elf-bitch!?"
Elenwen shrugs, "Nothing, I did nothing as you and everyone else saw." she says, gesturing to the citizens gathered around to observe the happenings.
"You... I had no idea I could hate you even more than I did... But you've managed it, my feelings towards the evil Daedric Lords look cold in the face for what I feel towards you." he says, barely loud enough for the elf to hear.
Ulfric pauses, mentally slaughtering Elenwen as many times as possible in his mind, before eventually recovering his senses.
What was her goal here?
He glances around at the observers and the answer hit him.
She was goading him into attacking her... To force him out of Solitude before discussions could end?
Or...
To stop him from achieving something...
Did she know?
"Enough. Galmar, let's return, we have much to discuss." he says through gritted teeth, resisting the urge to tear the elf to pieces.
Elenwen momentarily looks surprised at his reaction, but forces her expression into a neutral one. Leaving as soon as Ulfric does.
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The next day, Ulfric is sitting at the table with the other Jarls present but looks more contemplative than before. Discussion goes on, all without Ulfric saying a word, despite many of the topics having previously interested him.
Halfway through however is when Ulfric abruptly stands, capturing everyone's attention.
"I've had enough..."
"Enough of what, Ulfric?" Torygg inquires, curious at what was troubling his old friend/enemy.
Ulfric gestures around, "At, this... This, joke."
"Oh great, another speech." Igrod groans semi-jokingly, only receiving a glare from the Jarl of Windhelm.
"You want me to sit here with that damned bitch acting like she belongs here, speaking of things that matter little while the Empire takes Skyrim for granted." he shakes his head, "No. I will tolerate it no longer. High King Torygg, I petition you, free Skyrim from the Empire, and the Elve's grasp. Grant us true freedom to do as our people wish, to do as we Nords have done since Ysgramor's landing. GIVE SKYRIM THE INDEPENDENCE IT DESERVES! THE RIGHT TO CHOOSE ITS OWN FATE!"
...
Elenwen's sniff from the corner of the room is the first legible sound after Ulfric's speech, "That was great, very charismatic... Are you done? Can the adults not get to business?" she says, mocking him to the best of her ability.
Ulfric ignores her entirely however, his eyes focussed solely on Torygg.
The High King shakes his head, "I'm sorry Ulfric, but that's impossible. The ties that Skyrim has with the Empire are too strong to break now. Even if I, theoretically wished it so."
Ulfric lets out a quiet growl, "Then you leave me no choice. High King Torygg, I challenge you to a duel for the rulership of Skyrim."
"Hah? A duel? What kind of barbarian would think of that!?" Elenwen scoffs, disregarding it completely while missing Torygg's introspective expression.
"You've really gone crazy now, Ulfric! Who in their right mind would expect that from a lowly traitor like you!?" Igrod shouts.
Balgruuf scowls, "Hold your tongue, Igrod. This is Nord tradition, which you should know given that you're now practically ancient history."
Dengeir nods, "The Kings of old battled to figure out who was fit to rule. I for one think that a duel would solve all of our problems... I'll willingly rejoin under Torygg's banner if he wins, as any honourable Nord should."
"I agree... It might not be under the Empire's laws, but we Nords still rule and live in Skyrim. It is us who decides its fate, and a duel of old would be suitable." Igmund remarks.
Elenwen watches all of this with a dumbfounded look, "You can't all be serious about this!? What use are walls, armies, and defences when the enemy can just walk up and challenge you for your position!?" the elf practically shrieks.
"Torygg?" Sybille asks as she approaches his side.
...
"I. I accept." he says as he stands. "A duel for the fate of Skyrim."
Ulfric nods "A traditional duel, with the Nordic rules of old. Do you agree?"
"I do."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
News of the duel quickly spread through Solitude, while Torygg and Ulfric stepped into a hall that was designed for just such an occasion. The only people present were the other Jarls, some Solitude guards, Lady Elisif, Sybille, Elenwen, Galmar, and a few of Torygg's own Thanes that were available.
The duelling stage was a large rectangular area that had a softwood floor, which was designed to stop people from spilling their brains onto the ground should they hit their head or something equally mundane.
Each participant was equipped in their armour, both wearing their respective family's ancestral steel.
"My love, please don't do this. There's nothing to gain! This is pointless!" Elisif pleads to Torygg, begging him not to engage in the duel.
Torygg gives a sad shake of his head, "There is much to gain, but everything to lose. Lose my honour, lose my life... But it must be done..." he pauses, "My wife... If I do fall...-"
"No! Don't speak like that! If you fear such a thing, why even accept this!? Abandon your honour, if not for yourself, then for me!"
"I'm King, Elisif, that means I need act as King, foolish or not..." he says, giving her a brief kiss on the cheek as he begins walking towards the duelling stage.
"Torygg... Are you sure you want to do this?" Sybille asks as she walks beside him, the duo leaving a heartbroken-looking Elisif. "Ulfric has many years on you, fought at the front lines in the Great War... Not to mention his voice..." she trails off.
"Just. Leave me be, Sybille. I know what I am walking into, you telling me of how likely my death is won't change anything." he mutters while speeding up his pace, wanting to get this over with sooner than later... Whether it be a positive or negative result.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Are you ready, Ulfric?" Galmar asks as he helps his Jarl equip his armour.
"I am. Let's hope that Torygg can give a good showing. A very short duel could lend even less credence to my rule." Ulfric remarks in a cold tone, as if he wasn't about to engage in a life or death battle.
"Well, we can't expect too much, King or not, he's still but a boy..." Galmar says but notes how badly Ulfric was itching to fight. "That elf whore still on your mind?"
Ulfric nods, "Aye, and once I win I'll have her head put on a pike... After I return what she did to me all those years ago of course."
"Hmph, that'll send a message. Ah, the sight of Thalmor scurrying away like wounded rats, I can't wait for it."
"You shan't wait long my friend, it's almost upon us." Ulfric states with finality as he stands and heads for the stage, axe in hand and ready to crack Torygg's skull if the boy was as stubborn as his ancestors were said to be.
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