Skyrim's Sovereign

Chapter 4

          Rushing to the BluePalace, we storm into the high court.

All voices cease, so many eyes land on us.

My gaze finds Elisif on her throne.

She is scowling at me as if I'm the assassin sender.

"My Lady," I approach tentatively.

"Don't you dare address her Majesty," Elisif's Housecarl, Falk Firebeard, steps in my way.

I imagine batting his head from his body with my werewolf fist, but immediately shake myself back to the present.

"Why would the Dragonborn, who sided with Ulfric in his Stormcloak rebellion, come to speak with me two days after there is an attempt on my life?" Elisif's voice is soft, yet firm. There is a storm brewing beneath those velvet tones, waiting to be unleashed in all its fury.

"Ulfric had no ties to the assassin. In fact," I start. "There was an attempt on his life as well at the same time. We actually caught the would-be assassin as he was climbing over the walls of Windhelm." I motion to Aela who stands without a word, her silver eyes watching the interaction—it's evident to me, she's tuning her senses to everyone in the room, waiting for any sign of a threat.

"You think I would believe you that someone else is trying to kill both Ulfric and myself?" Elisif looks at me incredulously.

"On my honour," I state, nodding.

"Honour," Elisif snorts. Her scowl will not leave her face. She looks me up and down. "What do you Stormcloaks know of honour?"

I remain silent. I know Ulfric is the one who killed her husband, the last High King of Skyrim. I know the way he killed the king is still controversial—he'd used a word from the Dragon's Tongue, taught to him by the Greybeards of High Hrothgar.

High Hrothgar! That's it! My mind shouts. "My Lady," I speak up. "I believe I have an excellent idea."

Falk Firebeard coughs, obviously an attempt to scoff.

"The Greybeards," I suggest.

"What about those old men?" Elisif is obviously still sore about the Season Unending summit the Greybeards and I had hosted back during the War.

We brought both sides together in a summit to discuss terms of a temporary truce so we could focus on defeating Alduin and his dragons.

The truce ended up benefiting no one and both sides were not appreciative of my work. I thought it was a fair exchange. I was more concerned with Alduin's plan to end the world at the time.

"Before the attempt on his life, Ulfric had sent Aela the Huntress and me to round up the Jarls of Skyrim for the Moot."

"The Moot," Elisif's scowl washes off her face. Something I cannot discern rises to her eyes.

"Aye," I bob my head, my armour creaking. "Now I have an idea. We can convene the Moot at High Hrothgar—there is no more neutral a place than the Throat of the World."

"This is true," Elisif nods.

Falk stutters, balking at his Jarl's agreeing with me, the insolent Fenrir Righ, Dragonborn and Stormblade.

"But what of these attacks?" Elisif points out. "Should we not find the perpetrator first?"

My mind is racing. Finally, I raise my hand. "How about the two leaders of both factions meet first at High Hrothgar before the Moot? We can discuss the evidences and leave the deliberations to the Greybeards."

"Those old men despise meddling in Skyrim's politics," Falk jumps in with his retort.

I ignore him. I can see the wheels turning behind Elisif's eyes.

She nods finally. "I will travel. Falk, summon my Thanes."

The housecarl stammers, he wants to refuse to go along with a rebel's plans, but he must obey his Jarl.