Diplomatic Dovahkiin 2/3

Birds chirped as the rising sun bore down on the stone bricks of solitude hold, setting the pale greys ablaze in a warming orange. Markets buzzed with thriving trade; wines, silk, and all manner of quality goods littered the stalls. A vast breach to the rest of Skyrim's populace, as the rich went about their day.

"I guess this is why it's the capital of Skyrim.... Rich people. Plus dock. Equals even richer people, huh?" Ciri said, eying the trade next to Lucius.

"Hmm, And? They worked for it through trade and effort... If anything they deserve to reap the rewards for their ingenuity." Lucius responded in a slight bothered tone.

"True. What about the people who starve then?" She chimed with a confident smile.

"They should've thought of a solution. Not my problem." He responded with a huff, and walked up to a standing guard.

"Guard!" Lucius called out.

"Ah, yes?" The guard stiffened seeing Lucius.

"Where's General Tullius? I have a document for him to read." Lucius lied with an easy smile.

"He's up in castle Dour. Should be near the war table, sir!" The guard responded with haste.

'Sir?' Lucius questioned and looked to Ciri for any hints.

Seeing her shrug her shoulders he responded with a nod and walked up the winding slope to the black stone castle.

"Sir? I didn't know you were a knight." Ciri teased.

"Neither did I... It got us past though, so who am I to complain?" He voiced and stood before two guards in black dyed leather armour.

"State your business!" One guard demanded.

"I have a message for General Tullius." Lucius informed the pair. "From the Greybeards." He added seeing their unmoving state.

"Leave your weapons here and you can enter." The second guard declared.

A sigh and flash of green later and Lucius walked through the castle doors to start his search for the general.

Quarrels echoed through the cold stone hall. A man of tan skin, short stature, and greying hair stood over a large map of Skyrim. A woman in imperial steel plate stood vigil next to the man and spoke with passion.

"Tullius?!" Lucius spoke, waving from the entrance to the war room, and taking a seat on the war table in front of the imperial duo. "We've have a message for you." He smiled.

"Who the hell do you think you are?!" The woman shrieked, hand on her blade.

"Be quite Legate." The general spoke. "What's the message?" He asked, glaring at a still smiling Lucius.

"Me? I'm the dragonborn. Nice to meet you~" He chirped at the legate. "The greybeards are holding talks for a temporary truce so i can kill Alduin. We'd love if you came." He voiced.

"They are getting to be a problem. But I wasn't sent to Skyrim to fight dragons. My job is to quell this rebellion, and I intend to do just that, dragons or no dragons." Tullius sternly replied.

Lucius stood from his seat and said in a more serious tone. "The dragons are a bigger problem than the Stormcloaks right now. Anyway, it's better to negotiate from a position of strength." Lucius laid out his cards.

The general stood silent for a long contemplative moment.

"You may have a point. It's getting difficult to even move troops around without attracting a dragon attack. By all accounts the Stormcloaks are suffering just as badly. Even Ulfric might see the sense of a truce under these conditions with us holding more favourable grounds..." General tullius hummed.

"Sir! You can't be thinking of talking to that traitor." The legate hissed.

"I'll be the judge of that. Besides, as i just said, the reports say the Stormcloaks are suffering just as much as we are from these dragon attacks. We will attend, if not for our cause, but for the greater good. I only hope Ulfric can think of the bigger picture." He calmly decided.

"Huh... I expected more manipulation on my part. It's good to know the general has some thoughts upstairs." Lucius muttered. "I'll see you at High Hrothgar then." Lucius nodded and left.

Ciri stood from the bench seeing Lucius leave the war room.

"So, all good? Your silver tongue do its 'thing' again?" Ciri asked.

"Not this time. I just told the truth and he thought of the people's safety." Lucius answered. "Now, we need to deal with racist idiots..." He drawled.

"I can't take us to Windhelm so how'd you wanna get there? Carriage or by foot?" Ciri informed. "I vote by foot, we have some time after Alduin ran." She said.

"Hmm, okay. We can walk...from Kynesgrove?" He carefully asked her.

"Sure, why not." Ciri smiled and held out her hand.

.

.

.

"So, does the wolf necklace have a meaning?" Lucius asked as they walked along a snowy road.

"What brought this on?" Ciri replied, a bit confused.

"Well, I just finished learning that transmuting spell. Iron, to silver, to gold... it got me thinking of forging again." He replied, his breath visible in the chill air.

"I told you about the Witcher schools and my training right? Well, since i'm not a real Witcher i couldn't have one. I still kinda want one though, to be a small reminder of where i consider home." She smiled, looking into his eyes.

"The wolf though?" He continued.

"It's the Witcher school where my father was taught ...and made." She uttered.

"You'll have to draw the design for me, Ciri." Lucius requested. "If it means that much to you I have to get it right, don't I?" He kindly smiled at her.

Ciri's cheeks dusted a faint red as she looked down, muttering a small thank you, as a warm feeling took its hold.

"Did you say something?" Lucius 'asked' with a grin.

"Thank you." She simply said looking up at him.

"Heh, no worries. We're friends right?" He bumped her shoulder playfully.

'Right... Just friends.' Ciri scolded herself.

The city of Windhelm slowly came into view over the white horizon, the sun gleaming of the ice encrusted walls of cobble and mortar. Ancient architecture of the long dead Atmorans told the story of their struggle in each hurried notch of the carved bricks.

"The city of kings, they called it." Lucius said, idly staring at the high walls. "Oh, how tempted i am to release a rain of fire." He muttered into the wind, glaring at the old palace.

"The quicker we do it. The quicker we can leave, let's go Lucius." Ciri steeled herself, before walking towards the bridge the cold and glacial river raged below.

"Wait up!" He called after her, casting invisibility on himself and muffling his steps. "I'm next to you i'll come out in the palace, okay?" He whispered to Ciri as they entered the city.

She gave a slight nod to show understanding.

Snowy streets were empty, market stalls desolate. Guards patrolled every corner, ensuring the 'greyskins', as they called them, stayed in their slums. The once great city of Skyrim's beloved ancestry reduced to a bleak rock of depravity and prejudiced hatred.

"Lucius. Are you seeing this?" Ciri whispered to empty air.

"Mhm, go to the palace. The spell only lasts a minute." He whispered into her ear, the hot air making her shiver.

Ciri hastily stepped up to the palace entrance, two hard steel door in her path guarded by a single soldier in white and fur garbs.

"I have a message for Ulfric Stormcloak." Ciri said to the confused guard.

"Then go in." He bluntly responded.

"O~kay?" She mumbled and entered the palace of kings.

A short indigo flash an Lucius appeared behind to her when the gate shut.

"How stupid can they be to just let you go past?" Lucius voiced as Ciri turned to face him.

"Is it because i'm a woman? Some placed think we're lesser." Ciri guessed.

"Possible, but i saw some female soldiers..." He replied. "Oh well, I can hear the cunt already." Lucius finished, hearing an arrogant voice bounce on the stone walls from the throne.

"And who are you to enter my hall unannounced, elf!" Ulfric's voice raged as he stood.

"A messenger for the greybeards." Lucius stood, unaffected by the man's attempted intimidation.

"Hoh~ So your the dragonborn are you?" His voice rung out in reply. "A shame you're a filthy half breed. If only your whore mother stayed where she belonged." Ulfric sneered.

Lucius saw red at the insult, a blink of whirlwind sprint later and Lucius's blade gauntlet was at Ulfric's throat.

"A shame indeed."Lucius said with a fierce grin, and eerily glowing eyes. "That I can't kill you where you stand." Lucius growled.

"The greybeards want to hold talks for a truce until the dragon menace is dealt with." Ciri spoke up, eyeing Lucius's hand, trying to diffuse the situation.

"I-i have the greatest respect for the Greybeards, of course. And the dragon attacks are a growing plague. But the political situation is still delicate. Not all the Jarls are fully committed to supporting me as High King. I can't afford to appear weak. I can't agree to this unless Tullius himself will be there." Ulfric took a more respectful tone, his eyes not leaving Lucius's hand.

"The Greybeards won't let the Empire take advantage of you." Lucius pressed his fingers to draw blood.

"You speak truly, Dragonborn. Sometimes the grubby business of politics clouds my eyes to my betters. Besides, it will be good to see High Hrothgar again, haha." Ulfric hastily gave a half-arsed apology, trying to keep up his facade.

"So, you'll attend?" Ciri asked angrily staring at the false king.

"Yes. I'll give Tullius one more chance to quit Skyrim with his tail between his legs." He replied, leering at an unimpressed Ciri.

"I'll make sure to see you later, cunt!" Lucius whispered a promise, releasing his hands position from his throat. "Don't get lost down the mountain." He grinned before turning away.

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*Not proof read*

Late chapter... Oops?

I was playing Ow 2 and got triggered, i won't lie to you.

I won all my placements with Kiriko. Almost 12k heals each match and over 5k dmg. Yet I got placed in Silver 5. Safe to say i won't be playing that shit anymore.

Have a good one,

Your "patently evil" Author ;)