Survivor (A Skyrim Fan-Fiction)

Chapter Eleven

Erik and I sat together by the fireplace in his bedchamber; me giddy with excitement like some fanatical teenager and Erik as proud as a doting mother.

"Em, I'm so happy for you! I can't believe this is happening."

"Neither can I!" I exclaimed.

Once I woke up the next morning by Ulfric's side, I left his room quietly making sure he was still asleep. We hadn't shared any other intimate interaction other than literally sleeping with each other in his large feather bed.

I almost skipped to Erik's room to break the news, bursting through his door with the widest grin on my face.

"So when's it happening? Is it going to be huge? It's going to be huge isn't it?"

"I have no idea," I answered truthfully. "Ulfric said he wanted to wait to tell everybody as it's so soon after Ingun Black-Briar's death."

"It's speculated she committed suicide, the poor thing," Erik said sadly.

A pang of guilt washed over me, as it does every time I think about the terrible thing I did to poor Ingun. It feels as if I killed her for my own gain, even though I know I didn't.

Erik thankfully changed the subject, "Can I bring Eyra?"

I burst out laughing, much to Erik's confusion. "Of course you can bring her! You didn't even need to ask. Are you two are a thing now?"

His cheeks turned a bright shade of pink, and he sunk down further into the chair, not replying. I instantly took that as a yes

After idly chatting for an hour or so, we both went down to the Throne Room for breakfast. Hardly anyone was there.

Ulfric and Galmar were preparing for the Moot which was to take place in a week, Maven and her flock were getting ready to go back to Riften in the late afternoon. She turned her nose up at Ulfric's invitation to stay for the Moot. Apparently she said something on the lines of "having no interest in your petty quarrels" and "it's clear who the throne will go to."

Erik and I sat down at the far end of the table, climbing in to its awkward seating. I dug into a handful of various fruits grown in Solitude, whilst Erik piled his plate up high with sliced meat, cheese, bread and berries.

With only one bite into my apple, the weight shifted next to me and a lean shoulder brushed against mine.

"Aemilia, good to see you old friend! How have you been?" Ralof cheered as he patted my arm.

"I've been well. What about you? I didn't see you at the feast."

"Oh, yeah...that. I got injured pretty bad in the Battle of Solitude, some bastard's sword right through my leg. Got fixed up there by some healer and only just got back yesterday."

I took another bite of my apple and said "You're lucky you can still walk. You always were a fighter though, Ralof."

We carried on chatting, discussing the feast and the Black-Briars.

"I don't like that Maven, she's got mischief written all over her. I'm glad she's not staying here."

I refused to comment, Maven has ears and eyes everywhere. One derogatory comment in earshot will only spark the tension between the Stormcloak's and Black-Briars even more.

I finished my apple and politely announced my leave to Ralof and Erik, who had now become immersed in deep discussion about their home villages.

In the courtyard about ten recruits already equipped in Stormcloak armor were waving their weapons around hopelessly at the straw stuffed dummies, barely getting a hit.