Rise of House Sigeweald Book One (Skyrim Fanfiction)

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Doesn't take much to rip us into pieces

By the time she reached the Keep, Elspeth, having resigned herself to her fate, was feeling mostly exhausted and numb. As she walked slowly up the staircase, she looked around. The impressive stone and metal features of the grand foyer, which had earlier excited her curiosity, now felt grim and harsh. She looked up at the throne as she passed but only Raerek was there, talking to some guards. He regarded her with a courteous nod until he saw what she was wearing and where she was heading. His face fell, but he just stood there staring as Elspeth continued on to Ondolemar's quarters.

"Now isn't that just lovely," he remarked as she entered. He remained seated and simply gestured toward the chair opposite him.

The casual way he regarded her did little to put her at ease. She only barely acknowledged him as she took her seat and crossed her legs and arms tightly to herself, holding her body upright, her face betraying the dread that was creeping back in and hung in her gut like a steel ingot.

He grimaced. "I was hoping to avoid this, but your pained expression is ruining my appetite."

Appetite for what, she wondered. But before she could respond, she felt a slight compression grip her head. As expected, her mind was now slightly more attuned to the effects of his spell—his thrall—and her natural ability to resist magic emerged. He narrowed his eyes as it took a little more effort on his part, while she closed hers and breathed in deep, determined to give in just enough to make it through the evening without vomiting again. The spell only managed to take the edge off the worst of her angst, however, and she sat uneasily across from him staring at the food that had been set out. Roast pheasant, grilled leaks, baked potatoes, and the oldest vintage wine she had ever seen. It would seem that the Thalmor spare no expense.

Ondolemar looked back over at her and raised his eyebrows before he started eating. "I am delighted this keep hired a Breton to cook. They know better than to dump everything into a pot with a salt pile and stir. Such is the way with Nord cuisine," he said, as if the word itself was just as distasteful. He paused and looked up at her. "You still seem so very unhappy. Are the Thalmor really so off putting to you?"

Yes, she thought but remained quiet. She looked around and stopped to stare a moment at the partition that partially obscured his sleeping quarters, the sight of which caused her stomach to knot before he cast his thrall a little stronger. When she looked back over, his face had regained some, but by no means all, of its earlier appeal. "I don't...." She paused and swallowed before continuing. "I don't usually take this sort of...task," she said. She had never heard of a Jarl giving this type of task though she suppose Igmund had no idea what he had sent her to do. She didn't want to consider the possibility that he did know; she disliked the man enough and she still needed him.

"Whatever do you mean?" he asked, sounding a bit perplexed. He poured himself another goblet of wine.

"Um...." Elspeth couldn't make herself say it. She just looked down at her clothes, across the table at the elaborate meal, and back toward the bed, where she set her eyes.

Ondolemar was in the middle of a large gulp of wine when he realized what it was Elspeth thought she was brought to do and he choked a bit, trying to keep from spewing the liquid all over the table. He swallowed and put the napkin up to his face before letting out a wicked, condescending laugh and cutting his thrall short. No one had ever laughed at Elspeth like that before. In fact, she'd only ever heard such a laugh once, toward Andil when they were young. And Elspeth cut that down quickly and saw to that he never heard it again—as least not as long as she was around. Her stomach seized again and a shot of humiliation colored her cheeks but only briefly before she realized that while Ondolemar maybe frightening, she was not going to let him embarrass her. She stared back at him angrily.