Skyrim One-Shots

Ulfric x Reader(Female) ~You're Frozen~

Currently, winter was throwing a tantrum. Snow whipped, the blizzard roared, and skin turned pale white for the lucky who dared the storm. Ulfric himself, a seasoned Nord, would be the first to comment on how cold it was managing to get. The snow had crept up on the Rift unexpectedly, the wind throwing frozen snow like small daggers with a vengeance within a half-hour and the snow falling hard not too long after.

Galmar threw a chopped piece of wood onto the fire in the warm tent before sitting back on his bedroll, sighing roughly and clearing his throat. The veteran was thinking, Ulfric concluded, for the grizzly man only sighed like that when he was looking over battle plans and strategies. 

"Nightfall, Ulfric," the housecarl grumbled. "It's past nightfall."

The Jarl's face hardened, his eyes glaring like cold blue coals into the pole in the middle of the large tent. Ah, yes, his old friend had never been one to let such things go without words. "We did not know a blizzard would invite itself around, Galmar. She'd likely be better off hunkering down somewhere away from the wind then try to come back. I'd not like to have a general's fingers cut off tonight."

A humorless snort. "You know she's too stubborn for that. She'll be drenched with snow, cold to the bone, and hungry, but she'll have the information. She's too good for this place- shit, could you imagine if she was in charge of a hold instead? It'd be like paradise."

Ulfric blinked. "Yes, I suppose it would be," he paused too long. Galmar raised a brow and he snapped out of it. "One hell of a head on her shoulders, that's for sure."

"Ah, and don't you forget, you like those shoulders!" Galmar cackled, making the other man roll his eyes and scoff. 

"She's a general," Ulfric grumbled. "That would be unprofessional."

"Hey, she'll be coming in her bone-cold, you know how to fix that."

"Fire."

"No, dumbass. That'll warm her too fast, it'll hurt. You've done that to me before."

"And you did it to me first," Ulfric pointed out sharply, "and I will not disturb her modesty. I wouldn't have her uncomfortable with me."

Galmar made a wicked grin. The fire popped, it's radiating light casting shadows on the general's face. "You like her that much you'd pop a bone just from-"

Ulfric went a light shade of red. "You are shameless," he hissed.

"Oh, the immodesty, my fair maiden!" Galmar wailed.

"No! Be quiet, you fool! Don't you even-"

"My cock is too-"

"Galmar!"

"-big for your fragile body to handle! How will I manage such agony, for I may not deter my own honor with the brutality of using my own hand! Ach, never will she come back again to my desolate arms!" the man nearly roared, spreading his arms out as he dramatized.

Now, the Jarl's face was bright red and burning hot, from anger, shame, embarrassment, or a hurt pride; he could not decipher which ruled another at the moment. "Your vulgar fantasies are disgusting!" he snarled.

"Oh, vulgar, sure," the housecarl winked, "but-"

"They're sending reinforcements one Fredas," the tent flap yanked open, "one-hundred men. We go in three days."

The woman who'd stumbled in was truly covered in white, the fur of the white bear on her shoulders coated and bitten through with frost. Her face was red, nose starting to show purple, and the trousers she wore frozen solid. Snow gathered on the pieces of her hair that could be seen sticking out from her hood and pelt. Her boots were covered with snow, at the end of them snow piled atop the already freezing linen.