Survivor (A Skyrim Fan-Fiction)

Chapter Twelve

I was alone in my bed chambers, sitting by the flickering fire reading 'The Bear of Markarth', with a mug of warm mead at my side. I had been wondering why Ulfric had taken it off the shelf and onto my table, probably for the intention of it to be read.

So finally I had allowed myself to read what I feared would lie within.

At the start, it is a basic overview of the Forsworn Uprising, and how the Forsworn kingdom lived 'quite peacefully'. From my encounters with these savages, they have been anything but peaceful.

As I continued reading, the author Arrianus Arius described exactly what happened after the battle. What followed completely confused me, and triggered a sense of doubt, curiosity, and heart-ache.

'Every official who worked for the Forsworn was put to the sword, even after they had surrendered. Native women were tortured to give up names of Forsworn fighters who had fled the city or were in the hills of the Reach. Anyone who lived in the city, Forsworn and Nord alike, were executed if they had not fought with Ulfric and his men when they breached the gates. "You are with us, or you are against Skyrim" was the message on Ulfric's lips as he ordered the deaths of shopkeepers, farmers, the elderly, and any child old enough to lift a sword that had failed in the call to fight with him.'

The thought that Ulfric had ordered the slaughter of children and the innocent raised a fury inside of me like no other. War was war, innocents inevitably died. But after the fighting was done and they had surrendered? That is unforgivable.

Of course, this is just an account from someone who most likely wasn't there. And the author is an Imperial so would make up anything that would weaken Ulfric's reputation, and make up any lies to support the White-Gold Concordat and Empire.

I still had to know though, from Ulfric himself. And no better time than now, as he entered my room and pulled a chair next to mine. I slowly closed the book, letting the pages heavily pile upon each other, and gently placed it on the table.

He eyed the book, and then me knowingly, resting his head on his perched up arm lazily.

"I thought you had to know. I assumed you would have read it earlier, before I asked you to marry me. Just so you know who I was," he mumbled.

I could feel the heat buildup in me, my heart on fire and my anger unable to be suppressed. Having dragons blood makes it near impossible to contain your fury, and nothing made me angrier than murdered innocents.

YOU KILLED CHILDREN, ULFRIC! CHILDREN! WHAT WAS WRONG WITH YOU?!"

He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. "I was foolish in my young age, and stupid. I was too blinded by my obsession with power to see past my ignorance and cruel methods. I'm so sorry, Aemilia."

"THERE'S NO POINT APOLOGIZING TO ME! I'M NOT THE ONE WHO WAS MURDERED FOR BEING IN THE WRONG PLACE AT THE WRONG TIME!"

"Stop shouting. People may get the wrong idea."

"I DON'T CARE! IT'S HARDLY A SECRET IS IT? IT'S IN A BLOODY BOOK, FOR TALOS' SAKE!"

He paused, looking into the fire in a sulk.

"That was in the past. You of all people should know we regret some things we have done, things such as the Dark Brotherhood..."

I lowered my voice, suddenly aware of what Ulfric meant by people getting the wrong idea. People thinking it's what he's done recently.

I sighed. "Don't bring that up; you know how much I hated it. I did the right thing in the end."

"And now you know how much I hated the Markarth Incident," he fired back. "I don't deny I did the wrong thing, but all I can do now is try and set matters right."