The Duel...

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."

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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.

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"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.