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Heretics and Extremists	By : Inxathekhajiit Category: +A through F > Elder Scrolls - Skyrim Views: 5671 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Skyrim, nor any of the characters from it. I receive no profit for the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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(Note from Author: I apologize that the story is fairly long-winded. I was away on a trip without internet for quite some time and had naught to entertain myself with but a word program. I write purely for my own entertainment, but I see no harm in sharing if anyone has the interest to read. I will edit the disclaimers/warnings as the need arises.)

Chapter One:

Ondolemar.
The name itself was enough to send shudders down the spines of many a wretched being; or so the high elf would have liked to believe. The land of Skyrim was wrought with disrespectful oafs, with their filthy blood and their baseless need to call themselves worthy of the dominion’s respect.
Animals-the lot of them were. To be herded, purified, thinned out and ruled but least of all respected. As much as Ondolemar missed the sounds, sights and smells of his own homeland, he could not deny that there was work here to be done.
Like any pestilence, these creatures must be maintained; or their mere number alone would overwhelm Tamriel and drive all other species to extinction.
So he had taken the task of policing them upon himself. Like many of the Thalmor, he was relieved that a treaty had been set in place, but would have preferred wiping the whole lot out instead. Crushing them into submission beneath his boot would just have to do for now. Immediately following his arrival into Markarth, he had every miserable would-be priest in the city converted or thrown into prison. Any system of belief that did not correlate with the dominion’s was shot down and forbidden on the basis that it defiled the treaty. Predictably, this caused an immediate ripple within Skyrim’s own people.
Slowly, he watched the treaty’s terms seep into every westward city within the realm and even sooner than he would have predicted, the barbarian side of Skyrim rose up in the form of a rather overconfident -or desperate- Nord.
Beyond amused, the high elf called for the ‘free-thinker’ so that the troubled man’s pleas would be heard by the dominion.
In truly the most outrageous display of arrogance, Ulfric Stormcloak obliged to the summons and approached Ondolemar with merely his own person before the Thalmor Embassy itself.
“I cannot decide whether you are insane, stupid or merely plain suicidal….” The high elf’s voice betrayed his amusement.
Jarl Ulfric’s own stone solemn face carried no such merriment. “You know why it is I am here, elf. But for your sake, allow me to recount the details.” He rumbled in the tone of a man who did not like talk. “You poison this land, tarnish her good name and seek to enslave her people-“
“You admit you are a worshipper of Talos, then? “ The high elf’s haughty voice echoed loudly over Ulfric’s low tone.
Ulfric looked disgusted and glowered up at the man without lifting his head to do so. “Yes. I choose to worship Talos, our God.”
Ondolemar disapproved greatly. “I have been urged to give several warnings for the sake of those unbeknownst to the new laws of this land. All worship of Talos has been outlawed……….” His brows rose high on his noble features. “Do you still then, worship Talos?”
Ulfric scowled very softly. His expression and pose seemed to radiate an essence of someone who’d been running far too long. “Do not insult me with that pile of rubbish you dare call a law of Skyrim. I will stand to my words til I am struck down and move no mor-”
“-Do not tempt me.” Ondolemar interrupted and tapped one arm with his long fingers. He looked down his nose as if he could look think any less of the Nord. “Did you expect to stroll before the Thalmor, voice your little opinion and walk away unscathed? Your callous behavior will not go unpunished. We know of the unrest you ignite amongst the people. It is more than unacceptable for anyone in a position of power to spread such heresy……The word I am searching for would have to be……treason……….against the Empire.”
Ulfric seemed boldly unafraid. If anything, his slow, low tone sounded bored. “Your treaty must be setting on thicker ice than I had thought. You think the worshippers of Talos stand far and few between, but you are wrong. If I fall from this position, more will rise up and the outrage will drive a stake through your little ‘peace treaty’………..” Ulfric tilted his head and looked up at the elf through lidded eyes; as if daring the extremely tall man to say otherwise.
This Nord was slouching! Ondolemar’s eyes flashed with outrage and his face heated rapidly. How dare he have the gall-
The high elf released a hiss of breath through his long nose and masked his fury. Ulfric was right. It was in the best interest of the Thalmor to have the treaty hold as long as possible.
No. He would have to deal with him another way.
“Arrest him………” Ondolemar demanded sharply; his fierce eyes not leaving the impudent Nord.
His two guards, one tall female and one tall male, strode forward and firmly pushed their maces towards Ulfric’s neck.
The Jarl- still wearing an expression as if he were sitting in a library- slowly pulled his hands up in surrender and leaned all of his weight upon his left leg. The elves lowered their weapons and swiftly went to bind the man’s wrists.
“Your mistake……” Ulfric rumbled in that droll tone and shrugged.
Ondolemar hid a satisfied smirk and stifled the want to tell him otherwise.
-In the Interrogator's Chambers-
“The Thalmor have effective ways of dealing with meddlesome ner’ do wells such as yourself……..” The high elf strolled slowly back and forth before his prey.
The Jarl Ulfric was pulled firmly against the cold dungeon walls of the embassy. Heavy metal chains linked his wrists to into the stone behind him; despite which he stood firmly planted on both feet within the barred cell that confined him. He did not seem out of place in the scenery; his bare chest and shoulders bore many jagged scars to match the ones upon his face.
Ondolemar, in his fine robes, was quite at home here as well-albeit for entirely different reasons.
“Is it abuse of some substance that has stolen the spark of fear from your eyes? Or perhaps one too many strikes upon the head has dulled your common senses?” The elf mused haughtily as he pulled a heated metal hook from a stone bowl full of live coals.
Ulfric’s voice was so very low in tone as always. His eyes were cast upon the ground before him and did not rise.
“You do not scare me…..” He grumbled. “Pain is but a temporary state. What pieces of me that have not been numbed to it will be soon enough….”
“You underestimate the power of agony-“ The high elf responded in a much louder, quicker pitch; not quite yelling but definitely not an inside voice. The barred door was pushed aside with a loud screech as he stepped in. “As does every uneducated Nord who ends up here. Before you know it you will be screaming for mercy and begging for an end to your suffering.”
Ulfric actually scoffed; a low noise in his throat that struck a nerve in Ondolemar. “You elves should invent a few new lines to use on prisoners. Lest you bore them to death before you lay the first blow-“
The Thalmor elf had had enough, but he stayed his hand before it was able to drive the metal deep into the Nord’s infuriating throat. He held the red hot hook just close enough to the man’s skin so that he may feel the heat rising off of it and receive the smallest of stings upon his sensitive throat. Slowly he pressed it in and he knew it must be agonizing for the skin was seared aside and smoke rose from the man’s flesh, yet the Nord merely twitched and swallowed involuntarily. Only the position of his brows and the trembling line of his lips betrayed how it felt.
Ulfric looked up; lidded eyes casting over the Thalmor’s collar and mouth, for the stone behind his head would not allow him to look up much further.
“I will not give you the honor or mercy of a swift demise, despite how dearly you wish it upon yourself. Now I suggest you stay that wicked tongue of yours lest I be tempted to carve it from your mouth. The next time you speak, it will be to scream the names of all your accomplices and every miserable Talo’s worshipper you can remember and some you thought you’d forgotten-” Ondolemar was clearly not pleased that despite the fact that he was dragging live, hot livid metal slowly down Ulfric’s neck and collar, the man showed barely a sign of it.
What he did do was take the opportunity to spit a mouthful of blood and spittle all over the glistening Thalmor robes.
Ondolemar recoiled as if he had been struck and emitted a noise not unlike a furious wench.
“How DARE you cast your vile bodily fluids upon my person, you-“ The high elf lost his temper and shoved his hand out; sending hundreds of volts of magical electricity blasting from his fingertips.
Ulfric sunk back and lost his footing then; collapsing in the chains and stiffening up in agony as the bolts stung and wracked every nerve from his head to his toes.
Ondolemar was still cursing and stomping back and forward when he stayed his hand and threw down the now cooled hook. His furious attack had clearly knocked the man out and now he must wait for him to regain consciousness.
Unsatisfied, the high elf skulked out and slammed the metal grating shut behind him.
“Alert me immediately when he wakes.” He snapped at the guard before leaving.
-
When he returned, Ulfric had been placed upon the rack per his request. The angled platform exposed every inch of his front effectively, as well as stretched and secured his limbs in place. Even in this position, the Nord wore a solemn look of world-weariness.
“You reminded me why it was I do not interact in such close proximities with animals. Do not worry though. My consort, the interrogator, will be just as heavy handed as I.” The high elf made a motion with his long pointer finger.
The torturer, an elf in plain black robes, stepped beside the platform and placed both hands upon a handle bar. As he slowly turned it, the ropes securing the Nord’s wrists and ankles began to tighten and even more slowly, stretch.
“This will continue until you apologize for your crude behavior earlier. If it rips the limbs from your body in the process, then so be it.” Ondolemar insisted on being the one to speak and hold control over the situation.
Ulfric’s eyes squeezed and a small flash of contempt fell upon his mouth. The dull ache of the stretching sensation was beginning to turn slowly into a distinct burning. He pressed the back of his head firmly into the straps behind him and closed his eyes as if concentrating deeply.
“By all means, do bite that tongue off…” Ondolemar taunted as he watched.
By the second, the strain became clearer; Ulfric’s chest rose and fell more rapidly and beads of sweat formed upon his face. The machine eased the body into an extreme sort of agony that could not be dulled by the person going into shock. The muscles were stretched to their very limits and then beyond those limits; causing rips and tears.
Even the proud, stubborn Nord was driven to emitting loud groans of agony through his clenched teeth. After every raspy, rapid intake of breath fell another choke of pain. Just when he felt the burning flesh would surely rip open and spill every ounce of his blood, Ondolemar raised his hand to stop the torturer.
“Whilst I stood here enjoying the scenery, it occurred to me that you were too wracked with pain to remember what it is you must do to make it stop. I will give you but a brief moment to apologize.” The high elf made a sweeping motion with his fingers as if to say ‘go on’.
Ulfric, still gasping and choking, -with his limbs still pulled to their very limits- just responded with another low scoff. “When I am this close to death? Nay…….I think I will be relieved to have these appendages removed..as they feel much aflame-”
Ondolemar’s expression snapped to one of rage as the Nord dared to joke. Walking forward, he gave the torturer a rough shove with one hand and took the handle himself. Rolling it rapidly back, he loosened the ropes hold before turning it just as rapidly forward to re-strain the torn muscle and then some. The groan of pain was satisfying, but not satisfying enough.
Letting go, the Thalmor elf picked up what looked like a fire poker and shoved its metal, hooked, point against the Nord’s face.
“Do you see this, Nord?” He snapped. “I will tear you a new abdominal hole and disembowel you as slowly as possible through it. Then, as you lay in a puddle, choking upon your own intestines, I will have our healers assure that you are kept alive a full two weeks before you are finally set aflame atop a pile of your precious Talo’s worshipers!”
Ulfric frowned and finally spoke in his classic monotony. “I did not at first take you for that sort of elf.” He shrugged visibly, despite the position. “Different strokes for different folks, so the saying goes-“
Ondolemar’s face turned scorching red. He pulled back the weapon as if he would bring its point down repeatedly into the callous Nord.
“THAT is quite enough, Ondolemar-“ Erupted a powerful, female voice from across the room.
She must have stepped in sometime a few minutes ago. He did not know her to be quiet in any situation, yet she had stayed so this entire time until now. She was the Thalmor ambassador and justicier, Elenwen, and held even more power in this realm than himself. He was obligated to listen to her demands and lowered the weapon.
“When you said you had captured another worshiper of Talos, you must have left out the part about him being Jarl of Windhelm. ” The high elf strolled forward casually until she stood beside her fellow Thalmor. “Ulfric has been such a useful asset to the embassy in the past. It would have been a shame had I not arrived here soon enough.”
Ondolemar’s eyes flashed from the woman to the prisoner. There was indeed a strange expression upon about his features that the high elf had not seen yet and after a moment of observation, he recognized what it was; very subtle fear.
Elenwen seemed to recognize it as well.
“After all this time, you recognize me? I am truly flattered… “ She smiled poisonously and held one long hand casually out to the interrogator. “You are going about this all wrong, dearest Ondolemar. If you wanted the beast to respect you, you must first break him in-“
Whatever it was that the torturer handed the woman, she shoved it fast to the Nord’s inner thigh. He twitched visibly before she’d even drawn blood, then released a sharp noise of pain as she opened the pliers and pinched the sensitive flesh hard. Mercilessly, she twisted it and remarkably, he responded.
“Preposterous…” Ondolemar grimaced and crossed his arms tightly. “It cannot be that painful in comparison to the rest……”
“Torture is all about preciseness of motions and presence…….” Elenwen responded. Indeed, hers seemed to be having an effect on the Nord. With her pair of pliers, she went from thighs to the space behind his kneecaps. “Doing the least amount of damage leaves the nerves alert and sends waves of panic surging to the brain-“
She worked as she spoke and Ulfric shuddered between each explosion of agony. Memories forced their way up and heightened the pain and distress; memories of her perfume and the feel of her hands. He was not prepared for those which she had suppressed with magicka to be dug up from his subconscious. Minutes, she worked and in minutes he was reduced to a young man; never having felt real pain or known real cruelty until her. She used a blade to retrace old scars. Precise. Horrific.
Ondolemar was indeed envious and reluctant to leave when Elenwen ordered the Nord be thrown back into his cell. She was pulling off her bloodied gloves and tossing them aside as the male high elf followed her out.
“Ulfric has immunity, Ondolemar. He is an asset to the Thalmor, not a hindrance.” She informed him. “Do not pretend you did not know that.”
Her eyes were full of an ice that Ondolemar was thankfully immune to. He merely shrugged. “All Nord’s look the same to me and he was just another worshipper of Talos. Jarl or no, he had to be punished.”
“Hmph……..” Elenwen brushed at her sleeve. “So he has. You may release him in a few days..see to it that his injuries are not crippling.”
Ondolemar was immediately annoyed. “Release him? Whether or not he was an asset in the past means little now that he is a heretical Nord of Talos. We cannot have him gallivanting about, claiming we simply let such worshippers go.”
There was poison in Elenwen’s voice. “You will do as I say. We want him to stir up the others. It will make it that much easier to weed out who must be picked off. Swallow your foolish pride. If you have scores to settle, you may do so before he goes. Take as long as you need, so long as the injuries are not permanent, are not crippling, and do not truly break him.”
With a dangerous leer, she strolled away down the hall. Ondolemar looked pissed.
She did stop and glance back once. “Oh…and it would be well in our favor if he leaves only when his blood is boiling with outrage towards the empire that so allows this to occur-“ She hinted with fine emphasis.
Ondolemar clenched his gloved fingers a few times and looked considering.
Could be entertaining.
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Heretics and Extremists

Chapter One: