Daughter to Dragons- a Skyrim inspired fantasy

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Three

The meeting had lasted longer than I thought it had, as I discovered when I stepped into the Great Hall and found only a few servants and guards remained. My stomach rumbled as if to tell me the length of the passage of time. But food would have to wait for now.

As I made my way to the royal study, I felt the awed stares of the palace residents boring into me, only to have them look away when I acknowledged them. This was something I had not missed.

Posted outside the closed doors of the study was one guard, one of Mikald's elite I could tell. Loyal unto death to Mikald and Ulfric, they could be trusted to keep the royal secrets secret. This was good and yet it posed a problem to me. There was no chance of me getting anything out of them that Mikald wouldn't authorize. I wouldn't wish to have to resort to such measures, but they were often necessary. Even amongst allies.

The guard nodded stoically and opened the door for me, all done in silence. I entered and heard the door close behind me.

Heat enveloped me from the moment I stepped in the room, so much so I felt a light sweat trickle down my back. I untied the furry pauldrons from my shoulders and slung them across an overstuffed chair.

Mikald stood in front of the massive fireplace, a fire roaring in its hearth, with a small book clutched in his hands. I saw the beautiful profile of his face, with his strong Nordic jawline and high cheekbones. Even though I could not see his eyes, I knew they were a blue cooler than the ice that froze atop a great northern lake. For all their coolness, when their gaze fell upon you, you would melt.

"Amelsa," he said, not even glancing from his book.

I dropped into a curtsy, one so well practiced it didn't even feel like it had been months since my last. "Your Grace," I greeted.

He slammed the book shut and tossed it on the nearest table as he turned to face me. "Now of all times you choose to adhere to social decorum?" he asked, bewildered. He looked at me and chuckled. "You never cease to amaze, my love."

I granted him a sly smile as I crossed to meet him. My hand fell into his outstretched palm and pulled me in, wrapping his strong arms around me and burying my face into his broad chest.

As he released me, I brushed my fingers on his cheek, holding his tender gaze and returning my own. I dropped my hand and fell into a seat, gesturing for him to follow suit. "The Redguards I saw in the great hall," I began, knowing that we could spend hours doing nothing save enjoying each other's presence, or we could get some work done. He sensed this too and nodded. "Have they come to discuss the alliance?"

Again, he nodded. "They are high-ranking members of the Forebear Party and the only ones willing to hear us out, and even that took a great deal of pandering."

Hammerfell, I knew, was divided into two factions: the Forebears, who were the descendants of the ancient Yokudan military class and the most open to outside influences; and then the Crowns, who were the descendants of the noble class of sunken Yokuda and xenophobic in nature. Of the two, it was the Forebears who would prove illustrious allies. But they alone could hardly move all of Hammerfell to join with Skyrim, even if it was to go to war against the Thalmor. The resentment between the parties was too deep to fill completely enough to thoroughly destroy the Aldmeri Dominion.

"What have they to say about the alliance?" I asked.

Mikald exhaled sharply through his nose. "We've barely touched the topic," he said, obviously frustrated. "They arrived, perhaps, three weeks ago, and claim that they wish to investigate those who they would taking such a large step with. I suspect they are just stalling. What they are expecting, I cannot say."