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Inner thoughts	By : EiraWolfsoul Category: +A through F > Elder Scrolls - Skyrim Views: 3001 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, it is property of Bethesda. Eira however is my own character. No money is being made from writing this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 1-Inner thoughts of a rebellious Jarl
- 2-Inner thoughts of a Jarl's Housecarl
- 1
- 2
This is a Kmeme fill. Original Prompt: Inner thoughts
I’ve always wondered, and never seen any fic about, Ulfric Stormcloak’s thoughts during the intro sequence. What’s his take on Lokir the unfortunate horse-thief? On the defiant Stormcloak who yells at the priest? On the prospect of watching his soldiers die? Does he have a guess at what that scary roaring sound in the distance is? Is he thinking Oh, Talos, Galmar is going to be PISSED about this? Does he get a nasty jolt of surprise when one of the first people he sees, after rolling into Helgen bound and gagged and helpless, is Elenwen his ex-torturer? Do the Helgen citizens who are angrily cheering for his death make him sad?
Summary: Ulfric Stormcloak reveals his thoughts from the moment he is ambushed until his escape. Companion piece to chapter 1 of my story "True daughter of Skyrim" (TDOS).

Inner thoughts of a rebellious Jarl
The sound of hooves and the soft murmur of soldiers making small talk were the only sounds that could be heard. Ulfric and his men had made good time and would reach Darkwater Crossing soon. Ulfric would speak with his informant, discuss matters with Anneke Crag-Jumper and be on his way back to Windhelm before the day was over. His housecarl Galmar Stone-Fist had been against his going, saying both the informant and Anneke could just come to the palace in Windhelm, but Ulfric was going stir-crazy and needed to get out of the palace. Ordering a grumbling Galmar to stay behind to run things should anything happen to him, the Jarl left with a select few guards.
The relative silence was broken by the shrill cry of a horse in pain. The panicked animal threw off his rider and ran. Before anyone could react the other horses cried out too, one throwing his rider off too and following it’s comrade, the others crumbling to the ground death. Ulfric and his men quickly got back to their feet, weapons drawn and ready to attack whoever had fired the arrows that struck their horses. A large number of Imperials came out of hiding, weapons drawn and aimed at them. ‘Damn it! How in Oblivion did this happen? Where we betrayed? But by who?’ he thought. Ulfric’s eyes scanned his surroundings quickly, ‘too many, there’s no way we can fight our way out of this one. Not even the Voice will save us now’, Ulfric seethed with anger at the unexpected turn of events. ‘Damn it! They would fight, all of them, for me, for our cause. But we’re greatly outnumbered. To try and fight our way out of this would only result in a bloodbath! We would all gladly lay down our lives if it meant Skyrim would be free, but I will not let them die needlessly!’
Recognizing his momentary defeat, Ulfric resigned himself to his fate and ordered his men to lower their weapons. ‘Perhaps an opportunity will present itself allowing our escape. Or at the very least perhaps my men will be imprisoned until the war is settled either way. We’ll bide our time for now. It cannot be over, I refuse to believe it. Something will happen. Something must happen! Damn it!’ The Jarl kept his shoulders straight and his head held high as he allowed the Imperials to bind and gag him. ‘Filthy Thalmor boot kissers! Some of them are even Nords! How could they betray Skyrim like that?!’
Ulfric watched as his guards, four men and one woman, were bound and directed into two carts, they were good people. He did not know all of them personally, but he hoped they would all live to see another day. Three men and the woman were pushed onto one cart, the last soldier was pushed onto the second cart, before Ulfric himself was also pushed onto the second cart. The Imperial soldiers took their places surrounding the two carts and they headed off towards the South.

Several hours later they had crossed the bridge South-East of Lake Geir and past the road East to Riften when they stopped at what was obviously an Imperial Camp. Another, equally large battalion of soldiers, led by General Tullius awaited their arrival. ‘General Tullius, bah! Should have known he’d leave the safety of Solitude just to see my capture! Probably hoping to get a pat on the back from the Emperor. As if he was responsible for my capture, bloody fool wasn’t even there!’
“General Tullius Sir, we’ve captured the rebel leader!” the legate leading the ambush greeted the Imperial general. “Well done men”, Tullius complimented “rest up, we leave at first light”. The general then turned to his own battalion “guard them well, do not let them escape!” With that the soldiers from the ambush took their leave, finding places to rest, while the new battalion took up positions to guard Ulfric and his men. ‘Definitely no chance of escape now. Damn it! Galmar will have a fit when he finds out! I’ll never hear the end of it if we do manage to escape!’ With a defeated sigh, Ulfric allowed himself to doze, knowing there was nothing he could do for now anyway.
The sun was only just rising when the Legate’s voice woke him from his slumber. “Throw the horse thief on a cart and let’s be off!” Ulfric watched as a thin, dirty man in rags was pushed onto his cart. The Jarl’s eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the thief. ‘Such a pitiful little man! A thief, bah! There’s plenty of honest work to be done in here! Skyrim is land of honest, hard workers, there’s no place for thieves! Especially horse thieves. The worst kind that lot! A horse is an honourable creature, loyal to its rider when bonded properly. To break that bond through thievery… bah!’
It was not long before they were on the move again, once more accompanied by the soldiers from the ambush and with the addition of General Tullius and the horse thief. ‘I wonder where they’ll take us. Not Solitude from the looks of it. Probably Cyrodiil then… not good. Once we cross the border, any hopes of escape will be wiped out. Damn! How could this have happened?’ Ulfric was furious with the situation, angry at himself for not listening to Galmar, sad at the prospect of the deaths of good people fighting for what they believe in.

They had reached Falkreath Hold somewhere around 8 hours ago, if Ulfric’s reading of the sun’s position was correct, and were now nearing The Pale Pass, Ulfric noted. ‘Probably want to parade me in front of the Emperor. There are too many guards, there’s no way we can escape and the closer we’ll get to Cyrodiil, the smaller our chances will be’. Ulfric was brought out of his reverie by the sound of swords being unsheathed and bows being drawn. There were two dull thuds, followed by swords being sheathed and bows being unstrung. ‘What is going on? That didn’t sound like local wildlife being killed!’.
“Exchange her clothes for prison rags, Stormcloak scum shouldn’t be wearing niceties” Tullius ordered. Ulfric growled behind his gag, ‘her clothes? They captured a woman? If they captured another Stormcloak, she’d be wearing armour, not fancy clothes, besides there was no reason for a lone Stormcloak to wander around Falkreath Hold. Why would they exchange her clothes out here? Who in Oblivion did they capture? She must have tried crossing the border’. Thought after thought filled Ulfric’s mind. He could see his men were curious as well, all of them trying to catch a glimpse of what was going on.
Moments later a young woman was thrown rather forcefully onto the cart. Ulfric glared at the Imperial who manhandled the woman. ‘Beasts! She’s already unconscious, there’s no need to manhandle her any further!’ “She’s not a Stormcloak!” Ralof tried to defend her. “It doesn’t matter who or what she is”, General Tullius said from atop his horse. “Of course it matters! She’s innocent!” one of the soldiers from the other cart tried. “Not likely” was Tullius’ reply. “The Thalmor ordered her death”. Ulfric’s eyes widened slightly, ‘the Thalmor? What could such a young woman possibly have done to warrant a death sentence from them?’.
He watched as Ralof attempted to seat the woman slightly more comfortably, before ripping a piece of cloth from his cuirass to gently dab at the bleeding wound on her head. ‘Whoever hit her, had done so excessively hard. She looks young, perhaps around 25, certainly no older than 30. Nord by the looks of it. Her skin looks soft, yet her muscles are obviously developed as though she’s a trained warrior. Maybe she returned to Skyrim to join my army? Wrong place, wrong time young one. But what did you do to piss off the Thalmor?’ That question really intrigued Ulfric, though he would probably never know the answer.
The horse thief watched the young woman intently, obviously impressed by the curves revealed by the rough spun tunic she was forced into. ‘Filthy thief! Leering at an unconscious woman, disgraceful!’ A fierce glare from the Jarl and an elbow jabbed into his side by Ralof turned his lecherous gaze away. ‘It’s good to see my soldiers remain honourable even in a situation like this’.
It was only now that Ulfric realised they had not followed The Pale Pass, instead they were headed towards Helgen. ‘Where are you taking us Tullius? Was this a detour to capture the woman? Did you know she would cross the border here, today? If we’re not headed for Cyrodiil then are you taking us to Solitude after all? That leaves more time for opportunities to escape. By now Galmar will know something happened, maybe he’s working out a rescue attempt. If so, I’ll definitely never hear the end of this fiasco. The Jarl of Windhelm, future High King of Skyrim, rescued by his Housecarl who had told him so… Oh well… it would be better than death’.

Ulfric watched from the corner of his eye as the woman slowly came to. She tried touching her head, ‘no doubt to find the source of what must be a killer headache’, only to find her wrists bound. Her initial confusion at her predicament quickly changed to obvious outrage upon discovering her new outfit. The Jarl almost chuckled at the shift in expressions on her face, but it was no laughing matter.
Ralof addressed her then, though the woman remained silent. ‘That headache must be really bad’. His attention then turned to the thief as he spoke. ‘Fool! Skyrim wasn’t fine, it won’t be as long as Imperials and Thalmor are left to rule us Nord! I agree that the woman probably shouldn’t be here, but you dishonourable little maggot! You’ll get exactly what’s coming to you!’ The Jarl really did not like this horse thief. ‘Dishonourable, filthy, cowardly, reasons to dislike him are endless’.
Dismissing the thief once more, Ulfric noticed the woman’s careful attempt to look him over without anyone noticing. He smiled inwardly at the hint of appreciation he detected in her. ‘Like what you see young one? Do you know who I am?´ Ralof’s angry outburst cut into his thoughts, “watch your tongue! You’re speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!” ‘Well, if she didn’t know before, she knows now’. Ulfric noticed the small smile gently curving her lips, before confusion once more took over her expression, ‘what are you thinking young one?’
“Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You’re the leader of the rebellion”, at the thief’s words the signs of confusion disappeared from the woman’s face. ‘Ah, you wondered why I was captured. So you’re not aware of all that goes on in Skyrim then. That means you likely did not come here to join my army, so why did you come here? Where you born in Skyrim and wished to return? Did you travel to Cyrodiil only for a while? What’s your story, what has you crossing borders and running from the Thalmor? Are you even running from them, or did you not know they want you death? Surely you would have stayed off the roads if you knew? You’re such a mystery! Perhaps one day I’ll solve you. If we survive this, that is’.
Ulfric’s eyes widened in shock and his body froze with trepidation at the sight that greeted him when they passed through the gate. ‘Elenwen… what is she doing here? They don’t mean to take me back do they? I’d rather die than be at her mercy again!’ Ulfric barely controlled the violent shiver that wanted to wrack his body at the memory of his torture at the hands of the Thalmor, Elenwen in particular. ‘Maybe she’s here for the woman? If so, then whatever she’s done, it’s bad. If they’re here for you young one… By Talos I don’t envy you’. He glanced at the woman sitting next to him, ‘she doesn’t seem overly concerned’.
The carriage stopped and they were all ushered out. ‘So this is it then?’ Ulfric wondered as he stepped up to a female Captain and a soldier holding a book and a quill. ‘A Nord, why did you join the Imperials boy? Do you not care for the history and traditions of your country? For the freedom of Skyrim?’ Moments later the Nord Legionnaire started calling out names, directing them to the block. The Jarl’s name was first on the list. ‘Last stop then. Something had better happen soon, or this is it. The end’. Ulfric walked up to the indicated area in front of the executioner’s block, head high, shoulders straight. He would remain the proud Jarl of Windhelm until the very end. He caught Ralof’s words and smiled inwardly, ‘I am proud to have such honourable soldiers fighting for our cause. And dying by my side should it come to that’. Ralof was next and the soldiers from the other cart were also directed to the block by another Legionnaire.
When the horse-thief, Lokir, Ulfric learned, though he could care less, was called forward the man panicked. “No I’m not a rebel. You can’t do this!” he babbled before he started running. ‘Cowardly fool! Can’t even face your death with some semblance of courage! You’re certainly not a rebel, you’re not fit to join my ranks!’ The pitiful thief was shot down swiftly by the archers. ‘Shot in the back, a fitting end for a coward and a thief’, the Jarl thought with a small amount of satisfaction.
“Wait”, the voice of the Nord Legionnaire calling out their names returned Ulfric’s attention to the last prisoner on his cart, the mysterious woman. “You there, step forward”. The Jarl watched as the woman obediently stepped forward. “Who are you?” the man asked as he looked her over. “Eira Wolfsoul” she answered softly. ‘Eira, a true Nord name, fitting. I quite like it, Ulfric thought. “You picked a bad time to come home to Skyrim, kinsman” the man said as he scribbled something in his book. “Captain, what should we do? She’s not on the list” he asked the Captain next to him.
“Forget the list, she goes to the block” was the Captain’s answer. Ulfric’s eyes narrowed, ‘not on the list, no trial…’ Eira answered, her voice tinged with a stubborn streak, “I have an Imperial edict from the Emperor, allowing me to cross the border”. ‘An Imperial edict? She must be someone of importance in Cyrodiil, or had high placed contacts. Or are the Thalmor behind this? Was she set up?’ The Captain looked her over, “very well, show me then”, she said. “It was in my pocket, the soldiers must have taken it when they exchanged my clothes!” The Captain scoffed, “nice try prisoner. Send her to the block!” Ulfric’s eyes narrowed at the injustice. ‘She does not even bother to investigate! At the very least this woman, Eira, deserves an honest trial! Maybe she was set up. At least the Thalmor won’t take her to be tortured, anything is better than that’, Ulfric could almost feel the pain inflicted on him back then, the memories still haunted him.
“By your orders Captain” the Nord Legionnaire said before turning to Eira again. “I’m sorry, at least you’ll die here, in your homeland. Follow the Captain prisoner”. And so she did, joining Ulfric and his men at the block. The Jarl was impressed with her show of courage in the face of death, ‘now there’s someone worthy of being a Stormcloak. At least when it comes to courage’.
After a short speech from General Tullius there was a loud roar up in the sky. ‘What in Oblivion was that? I’ve never heard anything like it before. Best be on guard, whatever it is, it could be our ticket to freedom!’ Ulfric thought as he, along with everyone else looked up confused. There was nothing to be seen however. “What was that?” someone asked. “It’s nothing, carry on!” Tullius said. “Yes General Tullius” the Captain answered before telling the priestess to give us our last rights.
“For the love of Talos, shut up and let’s get this over with” one of his soldiers spoke gruffly as he stepped forward. ‘Courageous but foolish boy, always was a little impatient. Take what time you have, an opportunity of escape could still present itself, even now.’ It sadden the Jarl to see one of his men die, especially by the hands of Imperials. The cries of the people of Helgen bothered him as well. ‘Do they not care for our cause? Do they not wish to be free of the Empire? At the very least, do they not care for one of their own even if their believes differ? What has Skyrim come to? This used to be a land of unity, of honour!’
“Next, the Nord in the rags” the Captain called out, just as there was another roar in the sky. Ulfric looked up again, desperately searching for the source, hoping that it was something he could use to his advantage. “There it is again, did you hear that?” the Nord Legionnaire asked a little worried. “I said the Nord in the rags!” the Captain repeated angrily and so the man turned to Eira once more “to the block prisoner, nice and easy”. Ulfric watched her as she stepped forward slowly, head held high. ‘So proud, so brave. I wish I could have gotten to know you young one’, Ulfric thought sadly as she dropped to her knees before the block and laid her head on it. Just as the headsman raised his axe an enormous black creature flew towards them and landed on the tower behind the headsman. ‘That… It cannot be! A dragon? Truly?’
“DRAGON!” a woman shouted. And the previously ordered execution turned to chaos. Ulfric watched Ralof rush up to the woman and nodded his approval as he directed the rest of his soldiers to a nearby tower. One of them managed to pick up a dagger in the confusion and used it to cut the Jarl’s binds before freeing the others. Ulfric quickly removed his gag, glad to be rid of the restriction. Moments later Ralof rushed in, Eira hot on his heels. ‘Lucky girl, if that dragon had shown up moments later she would have been dead’. Ulfric smiled inwardly, glad that she too had made it thus far.
“Jarl Ulfric, what is that thing? Could the legends be true?” Ralof asked him. “Legends don’t burn down villages” the Jarl rumbled. There was another explosion, the dragon was turning Helgen to ashes quickly, ‘there’s not much time if we want to make it out of here alive’, Ulfric thought. “WE NEED TO MOVE, NOW!” he roared. Ralof led Eira up the stairs, but the dragon’s head suddenly burst through the tower’s wall, forcing them back as he breathed fire into the tower. ‘A close call, damn it, there has to be another way out’.
Ulfric watched as Eira jumped out of the tower. Just as they were about to follow the dragon attacked the tower once more, forcing them to wait. The moment the dragon left Ulfric urged his men on, “GO! GET OUT OF HERE! ALL OF YOU!” he roared ushering his men back up the stairs and after the girl, hoping to find a way out. They made it to the inn and rushed out. Ralof got separated in the confusion outside, ‘I hope he finds his way out, he and the woman’, Ulfric thought as he led the other soldiers around the crumbling buildings, picking up weapons from fallen soldiers as they went.
They nearly made it to the Eastern gate, when the dragon forced them back. ‘Damn it! Is there no end to this madness? There has to be a way out, it’s now or never!’ Quickly he turned back to the West, “THIS WAY, QUICKLY!” His men followed him without question and they rushed on towards the Western gate. No one tried to stop them as they rushed through the gate. ‘All too busy fighting the dragon, good, we’ll make it out of here after all’, Ulfric thought. The kept running, not stopping until they reached the Stormcloak camp hidden away in the mountains between Helgen and Ivarstead. They were save enough for now. He would return to Windhelm and face the wrath of his housecarl and friend. He would do so gladly, grateful to live to see another day and perhaps see this war through. ‘I hope you made it young one, you still remain a mystery to me and I long to figure you out’.
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Inner thoughts