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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
- 7
- 8
- 9
(Note: Pretty tame chapter)

Chapter 8

The winding day found the Altmer absolutely abandoned in the Jarl’s quarters; still pressed up hard against this wretched metal structure. He was exhausted, sore from head to toe and feeling excessively filthy and uncomfortable.
Ulfric at last returned as the window was darkening and was met with a very grim looking, trembling elf.
The Jarl strode around to stand before Ondolemar, who in turn glowered with the intensity of several suns compressed.
“Y-you left me here….” He snarled cynically. “F-for hours you left me here!” Bright cyan aura flowered about his long fingers and sparks of electricity. His eyes sparked and lit up a burning hot white under the shadow of his hood.
Ulfric pressed a thoughtful hand to his lips and raised his brows. “Impressive display.” He grumbled to himself. “Will have to re-enchant those little cuffs of yours before that gets out of hand…”
“Let me down.” Ondolemar growled.
The Jarl looked unimpressed and finally just turned about and walked away. “No.” He replied simply as he began shedding off his many furs and kicking off his boots. “Today was just the beginning of a very long process for you- From this point on, your trials will be continuous…….“
The high elf took ragged, furious breaths as he watched Ulfric shed off his tunic and drop into bed. He had to crane his neck hard to accomplish this, and quickly lost patience with it. “Continue until what point? My death? Insanity?! You plan on leaving me upon these BARS the entire night!?” His voice cracked in disbelief.
Ulfric grunted and drug the covers up over himself. “Quiet your griping, elf. Did you not forget I spent over two weeks with my arms barred far above my head?”
“Unlike you, I was not born into a world of constant discomfort and humiliation. You were well accustomed to it.” He lowered his head in the tight strapping and clenched his eyes shut.
“Grow a back-bone then-“ The Jarl’s deep voice was full of a yawn as he turned and clutched a pillow. “What you have endured has been naught but an attack on your pride, yet you are handling it like a child.”
Ondolemar winced and bit his lip furiously. His slanted eyes snapped open once more. “Do not even attempt to undermine the level of that torture!”
The elf quivered and fell quiet; doubting his will in spite of himself. Was he really so weak that he was reduced to begging in the face of something that was not even life threatening?
Ondolemar went on to brood a long, silent while with a bitter look of discomfort about himself. He glanced to the side with a leer and noted the Jarl sleeping soundly in the large bed.
If that idiot really thought he was going to be silent this entire night-
“ULFRIC!! Tis a dragon!” He snarled as loudly as possible.
The Stormcloak jerked up and grabbed his sword in an auto-reflex motion; wearing a very bleary, confused expression. “Where?” He grumbled before catching himself and shaking his head. “You..I was waiting for you to cause a fuss..then I actually fell asleep.”
Tossing the blade aside, he sunk back into the furs and covers.
“Waiting? I do hope you are not planning on getting any sleep tonight, ‘Jarl’.” His voice was full of mock and malice. “I certainly have no intention of doing so myself.”
“So..what?” Ulfric mumbled against the pillow. “Are you going to find something to talk about…all night?”
“I shall.” Ondolemar growled. “Unless you had forgotten, I am a fairly linguistic man. I could recite the rites of passage for entering the Thalmor…..or perhaps a list of the name of every fauna and flora I can remember. I know a few lengthy sonnets and could summarize a couple of novels for you-“
The Nord released a low groan and turned over as if he were just going to go to sleep through it.
“Well, first off-“
The high elf’s lips tightened in annoyance and he took a deep breath before beginning doing just that. First, since it was on his mind, he recited the rites of passage and went through every requirement for initiation into the Thalmor as he felt this would annoy Ulfric the most.
The Nord shifted a few times. Ondolemar paused after this monologue and let things grow very quiet for a moment and could almost feel the man being able to relax and doze off.
“Then there is the tale of Jevensire of the Thalmor; the man who single handled devised the fall of the city of Marlgen and it’s entirely impure people-“
He kept up with the tale diligently until he got to the part where Jevensire castrated all of the men and women so they could not breed and poison the land further. At this point Ulfric pelted a bowl at him and it clattered as it hit the metal surface and bounced off. Ondolemar winced and then sneered over.
“Do not give me ideas-“ Ulfric threatened sleepily. “Now shut your mouth before I shut it for you!”
Flopping back over, the Nord pulled the blankets up once more and once more the high elf waited with a light grimace until he felt it was the proper time to start finishing that story. He would be resilient and eventually make the bastard really regret not just sending him to the dungeons.
His continued rambling drew satisfying groans and growls of annoyance from the Jarl but to his disappointment, a great deal of time went by without Ulfric attempting to make him stop.
“HEY,” He yelled to make sure the bastard was awake. This got a mug thrown at him, which was a good sign to continue keeping him up.
The problem was that he was pretty sure Ulfric was waiting out the point where he became too exhausted to keep talking, or simply ran out of things to talk about/the focus to think of something to talk about.
A few hours passed and he was still persevering, but his voice was a low, dazed droll in comparison to his usual sharp tone. Despite his daze, it still contained the twinges of force and degradation he often put into his words.
“-not that we were ever on speaking terms from the very start, my mother and I…she was rarely at the manor; Business with the embassy and all. I wouldn’t have minded had father not been such a soft-hearted fool. Wretched man took a fancy to one of the treasurers while mother was away. Little dark elf mutt…..mother got wind of it and sent for all of us during the cleansing....Father left me behind to escape prosecution outside of the Aldmeri dominion.-“
He yawned wide and focused blearily to the side. “You awake?” He snapped sharply.
The Jarl did not stir. His rambling tone must have evened out and lulled the bastard to sleep. Sinking, he kept speaking anyway; the purr of his voice was soothing in some way.
“Mother personally tracked the two of them down….the sentence may have been lighter, had not the wretched little witch been pregnant. Breeding between the pure Altmer and common dogs is strictly forbidden…..and ruthlessly punished. Not that she’d have been anymore merciful on them…” He paused a long moment; eyelids drooping “…….mother was much more doting from that point on, but was never loving…which suited me. I went to study with the Thalmor and she went to her death in the war……”
Another long pause followed as he sunk forward and fell very slowly into the slightest doze. “-When it came to which of us would leave the Aldmeri dominion for Skyrim, it was an easy choice on who would be forced to go………the ones without anything to come back to-“
Exhausted, he kept murmuring incoherently for a few moments before really falling deeply into sleep.
- 7
- 8
- 9
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Heretics and Extremists

Chapter 8