The Brute, the Thief, and the Awkward (Skyrim Fanfiction)

Sized up by Royalty

A/N: Hey! Sorry for butting in, but I'd just like everyone to look at the picture above briefly.

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Now back to the story:

Fredas, Rain's hand, 24th 4E 201

10:57pm

"What is the meaning of this? Fighting... Amongst my brothers. In My home. In MY city! Well? What have you say for yourselves?!?!?" Jarl Ulfric spoke thunderously, commanding the undivided attention of all in the inn, fighters and onlookers alike.

"M-my jarl," Rolff Stone-Fist, the one who held a blade to Neyya spoke, trembling. "W-we're sick of all the damn elves. We decided we were gonna rough up the big one and his friend... Maybe scare them off. We weren't really gonna kill them, honest."

Ulfric Stormcloak said nothing. Instead he took long, dramatic steps around the scene, analytically. He strode over to Neyya, who lay on the ground in a bit of pain. Getting down on one knee, he extended a hand. She took it, and looked to the hulking nord helplessly. He returned a look that ran through her eyes and pierced her soul, rendering her breathless. He then lifted her to her feet, and continued walking.

"Regardless of descent, this is not the time to be fighting amongst ourselves..." He spoke, coming to Ragnarok, who towered over him at twice his size, yet still remained frozen solid. He inspected the extra large orc head to toe, several times. "Especially to esteemed guests in our beautiful city." He trotted back to the entrance of the inn so that Galmar Stone-Fist stand directly at his side.

"Galmar?" He asked, not facing his second in command, but rather eyeing everyone before him.

"Yes, my king?"