Skyrim One-Shots

Ulfric x Reader (Human Race)~The Council~

Your feet took the stairs up to High Hrothgar two at a time, dark cape fluttering about as the wind flew by, kicking up small clouds of white dust as it went. The cold was bone-chilling, though after making the treck to see the old masters of the voice enough times one would get used to it. Your nose was reddened from the chill, along with your cheeks and your ears.

The slightly covered footprints that were set in the snow before you were not unsurprising- though you pitied whoever came first and had to deal with the troll family that had habited the area. Truthfully, most days on your journeys up to High Hrothgar you'd haul ass away from the troll or sneak around it, never quite gaining the gall to murder the poor guy. He just wanted to live in peace, after all.

Wiping your snow-covered feet on the cleared stone (it had been shoveled off very recently), you entered the large stone building. The warm rush of air was welcomed, along with the many crackling hearths and simple decorations of cloth.

When you reached to pull your fur hood down, you were met with multiple people in the main room, all of which you did not invite.

Master Arngeir, the poor man, was fruitlessly demanding the two Blades and Thalmor member to leave before the already tense meeting got even worse. Anger pooled in your veins- hot and pumping.

"None of you got a formal invitation," you spoke lowly, voice echoing in the room with a hint of your thu'um. "Esbern, I will allow you to stay due to your extensive knowledge of dragons. Emissary Elenwen, Delphine, you both will leave. If you continue to be unpleasant to the host and refuse to walk out yourselves, I will drag you out by any means necessary. Is this understood?"

There was a growl from the Blades member, "I will not-"

"Did I state my warning as a choice? My apologies, that was an order. Both you, out."

"Fine," the Altmer woman muttered, "know you will face the repercussions for this choice, Dragonborn."

"Out," you snarled.

The two women walked out with hard glares and stiff postures.

Arngeir let out a sigh. "Thank you, Dragonborn. Now, if I may lead you to the council."

You smiled lightly, "It is not a problem. Come, Esbern. I suppose you will suffice as my council member on this matter."

As Arngeir started to lead you both to the tucked away room where the meeting would take place, your calm and confident stature did not fault, head held high and lips with the barest of a curl.

When you entered, you were greeted by the stares of the two leading members of the war and their councils, a few hard swallows and sharp intakes ringing out as you stood behind a chair directly next to Arngeir's. He seemed to wait for a moment, expecting you to take the other head of the oval-shaped stone table, but walked to the seat beside you nonetheless. Esbern took the seat next to you.

"Let us begin this council; Dragonborn?" the Greybeard motioned.

You took your seat. The rest of the members of the meeting followed suit, the tense thick.

"Our terms are simple. Riften must be returned to Imperial control. That's our price for agreeing to a truce," General Tullius started, to which you internally scowled.

Let them spar, you told yourself, let them see how petty it becomes when the times comes to talk of dragons.

Ulfric's housecarl, Galmar Stone-Fist, was the first to speak on the opposing side. "By Talos, the stones on this one! You're in no position to dictate terms to us, Tullius!" he barked.