Ulfric lay in bed restlessly - he had been unable to sleep and had no one else to blame but himself. The meeting with the Nobles took almost everything out of him. Every smile, every joke, every charming word that left his mouth was forced. He didn't care about what they had to offer because he didn't need it.
After they left he had gone to his room and slept for a good several hours, trying to force thoughts of Amy from his mind. He woke wide eyed and bushy tailed and ready to take on the world, only to find out that it was in the late evening and everyone was getting ready for bed.
He wandered around the Palace for some time before retreating back to his room for hope of more sleep, which didn't come to him. He groaned and sat up, jumping from the bed to the floor and leaving his room. The Guards watched with puzzled expressions as he walked down to the war room with haste. He was so bored it made his head ache.
Once in the war room he looked over the map. When his commanders were there earlier that day they had plotted out potential weak points in which the Thalmor might try to attack when the time came and also worked out emergency trade and evacuation routes. It was all fairly standard, but interesting to review nonetheless.
As he hovered over the table and sifted through the paperwork, letters and maps, his mind was trained on the Thalmor. He wasn't stupid, he knew that the whole point of the Civil War was to divide and conquer but he knew it was for the best that Skyrim and the Empire cut ties before this war. The Thalmor saw it as weakness but he viewed it as an unexpected strength.
Nationalism would be the key to this victory. The unity of men from all of Tamriel would come soon, but for now, nationalistic pride should be the driving force against the Dominion.
He sighed, looking over the flags that at one point in time were red. His union with Amy would surely cause uproar all over Tamriel. She is the Dragonborn - of the blood of Tiber Septim - and she is marrying someone of the likes of him. They would be the face of the rebellion against the Thalmor; they would rule and fight together under a new banner for the sake of Skyrim.
The door from the main hall opened and his eyes darted up to the intruder. Wuunferth stepped into the room and was taken aback by Ulfric's presence.
"Jarl Ulfric! What keeps you up at this hour?"
Ulfric smiled, "there's much to do and little time to do it."
"Surely you know it's not good for your health." Wuunferth chided and walked over to the table where several books lie, looking over them carefully.
Ulfric watched him, "what are you doing up at this hour?"
"I'm a night owl, you know this!" The old man laughed softly and flipped through the pages of one particular book, "I am studying, if you must know. I've come across something rather interesting about the Dragonborn."
This caught the Jarls attention and he was suddenly apt, "what about Stormblade?"
"When she came to me the other night with her wound, I cleaned it for her and healed her but when she left and I was cleaning up where she had bled on the floor and on the work station, I noticed a few interesting things about her blood."
Wuunferth saw the way Ulfric's brow furrowed deeply out of concern and the old man smiled, "I don't think there's anything wrong, do not fret. I am just reading to see if anyone else in history has made these observations about pervious Dragonborn."
