Season Unending Part 19

The next day Ulfric returned to the Pelagius Wing ready to continue battle. He found that he was eagerly anticipating returning too. The thought of a cold, naked Elenwen huddling under a fur blanket while trying her best to not ask him for new clothes was too delicious. It was invigorating to be the one in charge for a change.

Unfortunately, his daydream was not to be. When Ulfric entered Elenwen’s room, he found her sitting at her desk again writing in her book. Despite wearing only her underclothes, she still managed to look regal as she wrote.

She even made him wait a few minutes as she finished whatever paragraph she was on. Finally, she looked up, her golden eyes cold as she took in the sight of him. “Back again already?”

“I was hoping that you would be ready to see reason,” Ulfric said in his most rational voice. He placed a new outfit on the desk and stepped back to see how the elf would react.

Elenwen sneered as she eyed the coarsely spun cloth. “I will never wear anything like that.”

“I know you’re cold. I can see you’re covered in goosebumps,” Ulfric said. He wanted to reach out and run his hand down her arm to emphasize his point, but the thought of touching her so intimately made him uncomfortable, off balance. “It’s autumn now. It’s unlikely that we’ll receive your ransom before winter. Do you really plan on surviving naked during winter in Skyrim? Even a Nord would have difficulty with that. If you don’t wear clothes, you’ll die.”

Elenwen stood smoothly and walked around the desk. She picked up the outfit and thrust it into Ulfric’s hands. “I would rather die than wear that hideous thing.”

Ulfric snarled. “Don’t be so proud!”

“Of course, I’m proud, my darling,” Elenwen laughed. “I’m the First Emissary of the Thalmor Embassy. I’m the daughter of the Supreme Emissary Psysha and her consort Lord Naarifin. And I tell you with utter confidence that I will never wear this rag.” Before Ulfric could respond, she wrapped her hand around his. “However that doesn’t mean I can’t be reasonable. How would you feel about a trade?”

“What in Oblivion could you possibly trade me?” Ulfric asked. He pulled his hand away from her. “You have nothing.”

“I have the most precious thing: information,” Elenwen replied. She tilted her head and smiled just like she used to when he was hers. “And as a show of good faith, I’ll tell you first. I know how honorable of a man you are. If you find what I tell you useful, then all I want is for you to bring a few of my dresses from the Thalmor Embassy. I assume you haven’t had a chance to thoroughly ransack it, so it would be believable for you to return to my Solarium to find any information I may have about the Thalmor.”

As Elenwen spoke, she leaned forward, making her breast press against Ulfric’s arm. This close, Ulfric couldn’t help but notice that she was cold enough that her nipples were a sharp contrast against the thin cloth of her breast band. He jerked his gaze away, berating himself for being distracted by her body. He was a fifty-something year old warlord, not some innocent teenage boy any more.

“Within my Solarium is a safe,” Elenwen continued as if nothing untoward had happened. She told him a combination of numbers. “That’s the combination. I think you’ll find something of interest to you inside.”

“And why shouldn’t I just take this information and use it without giving you what you want?” Ulfric asked. He was already trying to figure out what was inside that she would be willing to give up for what she wanted. Thalmor secrets? Outpost locations? Troop numbers?

“As I said, honor,” Elenwen said with a shrug. She stepped back and crossed her arms in an almost casual manner as if to convey she wasn’t cold at all. “You Nords seem to prize it above all else. And you have used it heavily in your campaign for High King, so I doubt you would want to do anything to damage your reputation for it.”

“Who would know?”

“You would,” Elenwen said. “And it would be enough.”

“I’ll think about it,” Ulfric said. He turned to leave. “But I’m not making any promises.”

Despite his words, Ulfric was already planning a trip to the Embassy to see what secrets it held. Even if Elenwen’s information proved fruitless, surely there was abandoned wealth or documents that would provide useful for his army.

----

As soon as Ulfric left, the smile on Elenwen’s face disappeared. It was difficult to appear so unconcerned around him, but she would be damned before he felt he had defeated her so easily. She might have mourned the loss of her Thalmor robes, but at the end of the day they were only clothes and a symbol. She was the true power, not her trappings.

What was truly important was that Ulfric not discover how much it pained her to have lost her magicka.  Elenwen had never not been able to tap her magicka. Even the few times she had drained herself dry, she knew it was there within her waiting to be used.

Now there was nothing.

She felt more naked without it than she did without her robes. The world was a much duller place. It was like having a heavy black veil and thick gloves on all the time. She could still technically function, but it was at a huge handicap.

She would be reminded in the most stupid, mundane ways possible. If she needed to relight her fire, she was used to only needing to cast a simple flame spell. Or if something was across the room, she used to only need to wave her hand for a telekinesis spell to retrieve it for her. It was so ingrained for her that she still tried to cast those spells without thought and found herself baffled when nothing happened.

Psysha used to brag that Elenwen had learned magic before she had learned to speak. Nothing major, just a few sparks of lightning to shock a cat who was annoying her or making a milk bottle wobble when the nursemaid wasn’t fast enough with it. But it showed how great Elenwen’s potential was. Obviously Elenwen didn’t remember these things, but Psysha’s immense pride had been telling enough.

Elenwen scowled when she thought of her mother. It had been the Supreme Emissary’s idea for Elenwen to be captured in the first place.

“Either destroy the Stormcloak army when they come to your door or become their prisoner,” she had penned to her daughter. “The time has come that the Aldmeri Dominion does not wish to expend more resources stationing a contingent of our troops in Skyrim’s borders. It would not be prudent to just up and leave, so a sacrifice must be made. We have decided to forfeit our hold there. Your task is to either break their leader, Ulfric Stormcloak, or find out intel while within their care. Ransom will be sent in due process.”

Of course there had been no way either Psysha or Elenwen could have predicted that Ulfric would be willing to take his revenge upon his former mistress by locking her away from everyone else to the severe extent he had taken. Elenwen had been prepared for solitary confinement, but she had thought that she would have some minimal interaction with guards or even a few of the displaced jarls who were stationed here instead of their home holds.

That left trying to make Ulfric stressed to the point of making a mistake. Any fumble in leadership would give the Thalmor an advantage. The problem was how did one go about manipulating her captor when he apparently had all the power?

It was an interesting dilemma at least, and it would help keep her occupied during the long months to come. Then once she was free, Elenwen planned on taking a long leave of absence. She was well and truly done with Skyrim. It was time to go home to Alinor for a while. She looked forward to the hot weather and sandy beaches.

It would also be a pleasure to show those places to Naule finally. The girl had never been to their homeland. It would surely please her to see them. Anything was better than this cold and miserable place.

In the meantime, Elenwen would continue writing and planning.

----

“I’m not comfortable about you taking any advice from that witch,” Galmar complained. He and Ulfric were traveling with a squad of Stormcloak soldiers to the Thalmor Embassy. The jarl and housecarl were riding far enough ahead of their guards to not be overheard. “We can’t trust anything she says.”

“That’s sort of the point of this expedition,” Ulfric replied. “To see how reliable she is.”

The housecarl snorted. “It’s easy to give something relatively useless away. She could be baiting you now to lure you into a false trap later.”

“True, but that doesn’t mean we won’t find anything on our own,” Ulfric said with a shrug. “Besides, we would have had to come up here sooner or later. There was no time while rounding up prisoners to carefully investigate their personal effects for any relevant information about the Thalmor. I have every confidence that at least Elenwen has been keeping correspondence with contacts in Cyrodiil.”

“I’d feel better about all this if I was there with you when you talked to her,” Galmar insisted. “I don’t like you spending time alone with her.”

“Galmar, do you trust me?” Ulfric asked with a hurt voice.

“Of course, Ulfric! You know I’d give my life for you. But that’s not the point. It’s not that I don’t trust your loyalty to our cause.” Galmar slapped his hands together in frustration, startling his horse. He had to take a few minutes to get his mount back under control. “I don’t trust her. You were her prisoner, Ulfric. She knows ways to get under your skin that no one else does. She saw you at your weakest. By Oblivion, she put you there.”

“She never broke me,” Ulfric said quickly. The lie almost felt true to him after all these years of repeating it. He didn’t like remembering how he had told them everything he knew to save Ellie. If Ellie had been real, it would have been one thing. He would have been a brave hero who sacrificed his honor for his lady love. But Ellie had just been another one of Elenwen’s many tricks, to confuse him. And the information hadn’t mattered anyway. So his betrayal hadn’t really counted. At least that’s what he told himself.

“I know, Ulfric, I know,” Galmar reassured him. “But she still has power over you, and I don’t want her to have a chance to finish what she started all those years ago.” It was terrifying how accurate his housecarl was.

“That’s exactly why I need to talk to her alone,” Ulfric said. “I can’t stand the thought that you would hear the things she did to me while she tortured me. I don’t want to see the look of disgust in your eyes if you were to find out what happened to me.” More importantly, Ulfric couldn’t have Galmar find out that he had been Elenwen’s lover. The way he had begged and scraped for her favors.

“Many men have been submitted to torture. I know I had my fair share of shame while being a prisoner of war. I can’t imagine what it was like for you to be exposed by their sick experiments and torture. Just know that I would never be disgusted by you, my lord,” Galmar promised. “You’re the most honorable and just man I’ve ever known. It has always been my pleasure to serve you. You know you have my axe until the end of my days.”

“I want your trust more, my old friend,” Ulfric sighed. He hated the guilt that flooded through him from Galmar’s words. His time in the white room had been hard, Ulfric knew that, but it wasn’t as bad for him as it would have been for anyone else. And his time as Elenwen’s pet had been mostly luxurious, at least when she hadn’t been shocking him to discipline him. What would Galmar say if he knew that truth instead of just assuming Ulfric had been locked in a cell for several years? “I need to confront this demon, and the only way I can do that is on my own. I can’t worry about what others think. It’s not just about what she could say, but the things I may need to say. If I have to protect myself against you, I’ll never break her.”

“I trust you,” Galmar repeated. “I just want to remind you to trust me too.”

“Always. There’s no one else I would prefer to have at my side,” Ulfric promised. His small smile made Galmar break into a big grin.

His conscious eased, Galmar was able to relax. “Well, for better or worse, we’re here.” He gestured to the black fortress that had housed the local contingent of Thalmor agents.

The last time they had been here, Ulfric had hurried through the complex to find Elenwen as quickly as possible. He had known that defeating her would end the fighting. Afterwards, he had been preoccupied with rounding up the prisoners and getting them to the barracks in Solitude. As such he had had no time to explore the compound.

This time he explored each room carefully. He had heard of the extravagant parties Elenwen had hosted here to further entice the Imperial loyal jarls and thanes. The opulence of this place despite it supposedly being a military outpost reflected Elenwen’s style. He was reminded of how she used to love to throw parties back in Cyrodiil. Although he had been miserable as her pet on display, Elenwen had thrived in such environments. She had flitted back and forth among her guests like a butterfly amongst the roses of a garden.

How he hated those gatherings! Too many elves looming over him, examining him like some alchemist’s rare reagent. Too-loud music blaring for hours on end. Being stuffed into some ugly Altmer fashion that was too tight and too itchy. Being forced to watch Elenwen flirt with the courtiers and nobles as she played hostess.

But afterwards she would take him back to the quiet of her rooms. They would shed their gaudy clothes like the skin of a snake and crawl into his nest together where they would make love. He would curl up within the safety of her arms, and she would ask him what he had seen that night. He had learned from her how to judge what someone was hiding or saything through their body language. Who made sure to be seen publicly with whom and which couples had secreted themselves off to dark corners for illicit meetings. He had learned so much from her on the subtleties of power. How to present yourself to your lessers. How to encourage others to speak for you so as to not appear demanding or hubristic.

Galmar was right to some degree. It was dangerous for Ulfric to spend time alone with Elenwen. As much as he hated her for the things she had done to him, it was hard to hold onto that when she was within arm’s reach. He had managed to forget how charming she could be. Her smile, the radiance of it, made him want to either melt or strangle her depending on if she was trying to get something from him or bait him into aggravation.

“Are you okay?” his housecarl asked, pulling Ulfric out of his thoughts. “You look upset.”

“Just remembering,” Ulfric whispered. He wished he could share more with his best friend, but how could he ask Galmar to understand that the elf he hated more than anything was also the woman he loved above all else?

“Let’s go check out this safe and leave,” Galmar insisted as he took Ulfric’s arm and guided him to the solar. “We have plenty of people here who can search the rest of the building. You have too much to do to scour through elven underwear.”

The two Nords excused themselves from the search party and headed to the solar. It was a separate building from the rest of the compound and sat on top of the hill giving it the best view. Once inside, Ulfric didn’t bother searching the various rooms once he discovered the safe wasn’t in them. He was ready to see what supposed prize Elenwen had promised.

The combination worked as promised, but the safe revealed to be empty except for a solitary cloth bag. Ulfric had thought that surely it had to be full of documents detailing intel about the Thalmor’s prominent enemies in Skyrim. He remembered the horrible document he had received years ago from the Dragonborn. A supposed dossier about how he was a sleeper agent for the Thalmor.

He would have called the Dragonborn a liar if he hadn’t recognized Elenwen’s handwriting. There had been a small doubt that it still could have been forged, but the phrasing had been too distinctly hers. The relief at finding out his betrayal was false had not out weighed Ulfric’s horror that his actions had primarily assisted his foes.

The phrase “allowed to escape” had bothered him most of all. Was it the truth? Had Elenwen emotionally manipulated him to make him want to leave? Or had she bent the truth to hide what had actually happened from her superiors? It wouldn’t have looked good for her either to have been sleeping with a “lesser race”. If they had viewed him as valuable, either as a hostage or for ransom, then she couldn’t have just killed him when she tired of him.

That document had been given to him years ago. Surely Elenwen would have made new copies of the dossiers she had lost from the Dragonborn’s theft. If she didn’t store them in her safe, where could she have stored them?

He was letting himself get distracted. His men would find the papers sooner or later. Ulfric just had to make sure that the standing orders was that he read them first to see if there were any other lies he would have to worry about.

In the mean time, there was the bag. Ulfric picked it up with both hands. It felt like jewelry was inside. Surely Elenwen didn’t expect him to be bought off with simple gold?

Ulfric untied the bag and tumbled the heavy metal into his hand. He gasped, unable to breathe, when he saw what he held.

“An Amulet of Talos?” Galmar asked, bemused. “Why would that Thalmor bitch have that? Are we supposed to believe that she’s secretly a worshipper of Talos?”

“No,” Ulfric answered. He ran his thumb over the metal. It had been decades since he had seen this amulet, but he remembered every scratch and dent on it. He had last seen it on Elenwen when she had revealed herself to be his torturer. “This is my father’s amulet. It is mine.”