Oblivion
Training with Galmar’s men went a little rougher than with the Legion, as they had nearly no mages among their ranks. Sonin was quick to avoid anything to do with Ulfric for the time being, as she could still feel his hands on her throat in anger.
“Can you blame him?” Galmar spoke after Sonin wrapped up training for the day.
“Yes,” Sonin snapped, “And I don’t see how it’s any of your business.”
“Who he beds usually isn’t,” Galmar shrugged, “But he’s been out of sorts since getting that faulty report. He thought you betrayed him.”
Sonin shrugged back, “Not my problem. Grown people should use their words before their fists.”
Galmar sighed, knowing she was probably right and took his leave. Sonin sighed too, heading back to the inn. She would be taking her leave soon, having been here for a week now. She had just undressed for a bath when there was a knock at her door. She wrapped herself in a bed sheet and answered.
“Sonin,” Ulfric spoke, a hood covering his head.
“What do you want?” She questioned, thinking of closing the door on him.
“To apologise,” he replied, “May I come in?”
“Fine,” she walked away from the door and let him let himself in.
As soon as he closed and locked the door she dropped her sheet. No need in letting her bath water get cold while she was in the company of a man who had already fucked her senseless. Ulfric stuttered at her sudden nudity, his pants tighter.
“Well,” Sonin startled him as she stepped into the bathtub.
“Ah yes,” he cleared his throat, “I want to apologise for my previous, rash behavior. I was overtaken by my own anger for a betrayal that never happened.”
“I told you once, I’ll tell you a hundred times, Ulfric,” Sonin rolled her eyes, “I’m not picking a side in this war. I’m on the side of Skyrim and she needs men who can fight dragons.”
“Once Alduin is defeated, you will have to pick a side,” Ulfric spoke.
“Says you,” Sonin washed up her arms and neck.
“You will be with me or against me,” he continued as she ignored him with a huff, “This is serious, Sonin.”
“You’re always serious, my Jarl,” Sonin snarked, “If that’s how you’re going to be, then I’ll always be against you in your mind. I will not be picking a side.”
“And if you are forced?” Ulfric replied.
“Are you threatening Whiterun?” Sonin snapped her attention to him.
“Balgruuf will have to pick a side, even if I force his hand,” Ulfric boldly replied.
“Whiterun is my HOME, Ulfric,” Sonin narrowed her eyes, “If anyone attacks her, I will defend her to my last breath.”
“Just something to keep in mind,” Ulfric replied.
“Get out,” Sonin demanded, and he listened. Closing the door loudly behind her.
Sonin sunk down in her bath water and felt the need to cry for the first time in a long time.
…
“My Jarl,” the words rolled off her tongue easily, “I have troubling news.”
“Sonin,” Balgruuf smiled at her despite her words, “Would you prefer privacy?”
“Please,” she let her shoulders drop.
She followed him to his quarters, noticing the larger pile of unread letters than usual. His bed was freshly laundered and there was a small amount of food and wine left out on his table. Balgruuf closed and locked the door, telling his guard they were not to be bothered unless a dragon attacked.
“You seem troubled,” he took her hands in his and placed a kiss on one, “What is the matter, Dragonborn?”
“Balgruuf,” she sighed into his attention, “I’m worried that Ulfric plans an attack on Whiterun, once Alduin is defeated and assuming you don’t take his side.”
“I was afraid of that,” he smiled, “thank you for coming to me. Your worry warms me, does this mean I can expect you to fight for Whiterun?”
“Of course,” she squeezed his hand lightly, “This is my home.”
“Good. You will be happy to know I was already aware of this possibility. We have been preparing for an attack from either side,” he assured her.
Sonin let out a held breath, “That’s great news. Thank you, my Jarl.”
“Your Jarl,” he smirked at that, “I take it Ulfric is no longer…?” He left the question in the air.
“He attacked me,” Sonin looked away at his suddenly angry expression, “Whatever there was to be held between us is gone.”
“If I were there,” he gently stroked her cheek, “He would have lost the hand that dared touch you.”
Sonin chuckled at his threat, “I shouted him into the wall.”
“Good. No man should hurt you,” he suddenly smiled, “Unless you ask him to.”
“Is that a hint?” Sonin raised a brow.
“Only if you want it to be,” he grinned, dirty.
“My Jarl,” she gasped, “How scandalous!”
“Tell me, Sonin,” he leaned down to bring his mouth to her ear, “What would you have your Jarl do now?”
“Whatever he wanted,” she breathed, taking in his musky but well washed scent.
Without another word, Balgruuf took her lips in his. His hands weaved into her locks and toused the braid held in them. Sonin felt breathless as he took each ounce of air in her lungs. Things were heating up quickly-
“MY JARL!” Proventus shouted, “A DRAGON!”
Balgruuf shouted his frustration after pulling back reluctantly from the Dragonborn, “DAMN IT!”
…
“A letter, for your hands only,” the courier had said those words many times to Sonin before.
“Thank you,” she nodded and accepted the letter.
“Who is it from?” Lydia questioned, stroking Vigilance across his back. She had really warmed up to the hound.
“Ulfric,” Sonin huffed, “Wanting to apologise again and ask for my loyalty in this stupid war.”
“Maybe he is right,” Lydia replied, “You may have to chose a side eventually.”
Sonin sighed, “I have no doubt I will be forced to. I just don’t want any man trying to tell me what to do. I eat dragons for breakfast, why would I bend to their will?”
“From what I heard,” Lydia smirked and raised an eyebrow, “You seem to bend to a certain Jarl easily.”
Sonin threw an apple at Lydia playfully, “Hey!”
“Just rumors I’m sure,” Lydia smiled and raised her hands up defensively, “Although I think you would make a great leader of Whiterun.”
“Balgruuf certainly can be persausive. What with his...witty tongue,” Sonin wiggled her eyebrows art her housecarl.
Lydia laughed harder, “You’re too much.”
…
Sonin felt like she was still on fire. Alduin’s flames nothing compared to that of Akatosh himself. Last thing she remembered was chanting the words her mother did, but now everything seemed empty. Before her hazy vision was a golden light, too blinding to look at directly. Slowly she could make out a shape. A dragon of impossible dimensions.
“My child,” Akatosh spoke in the voice of many men at once. It hurt her ears as every word was spoken in common tongue and that of the dovah, “I have been watching you. You are almost ready to face my first born.”
“Please,” Sonin tried to look into his perfect face, “Tell me how to end this.”
“A trial,” he uttered, “Make it through Oblivion and you will know what it is you seek.”
Sonin didn’t reply, her throat on fire like the rest of her. Suddenly all the feeling stopped and she was cold. Surrounded by darkness she had felt once before, but much less comforting. Her vision cleared and she began to look around. She could see that her skin was damaged on half of her naked body.
“How the fuck…” Sonin muttered as she sat up and really took in the sights around her.
This was Oblivion. The darkened ground, reddened sky, and wandering daedra. Sonin felt overwhelmed, panic overtaking her. She felt too hot, too exposed, and much too scared. Unable to stand, she curled her knees up to her face and held in her tears. The daedra either hadn’t noticed her yet or didn’t care, either way she was terrified.
“That won’t do,” Sanguine’s soothing voice called to her, “My Champion can’t be that scared of this plane of Oblivion. Not the same one who took daedric dick so greedily.”
Sonin snorted through the tears that streamed down her face, “I’m happy you are here Sam...but why are you here?”
“Every Prince heard about you being here,” Sanguine shrugged and squatted down in front of her.
“But it just happened?!” Sonin looked up at him.
He shrugged again, not telling her the full truth of being able to sense her crying from his own plane of Oblivion, “Time to you is much different than to use Daedra. You’ll learn that soon enough.” He held a hand out to her and helped her struggle to her wobbling legs.
“So if you got here so quickly...what’s to stop the others? Surely they would have interest in the last Dragonborn?” Sonin questioned.
“Oh they will definitely come, but I think they are waiting to see how you do first,” Sanguine patted and smoothed her hair.
“Do what?” She asked.
“Survive of course. Although…” he snapped his fingers, “As much as I like the view, I’d rather see my champion a little dignified as she fights off scary daedra.”
“I managed you didn’t I?” She smirked, feeling a little more confident in herself.
“I’m afraid not every one of us wants to be inside of you,” he looked her up and down, “and outside of you.” His grin was wicked.
“Care to point me in the right direction?” Sonin took in her new, daedric armor on her body.
“Afraid I can’t help you there, but I can bring you your staff,” he held out his hand and his rose appeared, “Don’t fret too much. I’ll keep an ear out to see what the big god had in mind.”
“Thank you Sam,” Sonin hugged him, withdrawing and picking a random direction to head in.
...
Sonin jumped out of the range of a daedra’s axe. It towered over her. Sanguine stayed in his own plane of Oblivion, watching her fight with baited breath. He worried for his champion. She had managed a week in this personal hellhole, but only barely.
“Fuck you!” Sonin shouted with her thu’um laced in it.
The daedra stumbled at the impact but remained on both feet. He charged her head on again, getting a fireball to the face. It snarled and charged once more. Sonin fell on her ass at the impact of the blunt of his axe as the daedra laughed. It was hoarse and far from human. Sanguine felt his fist clench, but would do nothing to interfere.
Sonin let loose a wall of ice, freezing the beast of a daedra solid. She took the daedric sword she “acquired” from a previous fight and slashed with all her might. The daedra shattered into a million pieces with the ice. The constant fighting for survival had been honing her skills to a razor sharp edge.
…
“My thane?” Lydia’s worried voice rang out in the room of Breezehome.
Sonin awoke with a start, sweaty, “Sorry Lydia. A flashback.”
“From your fight with the world eater?” She questioned.
“After that,” Sonin sighed, “I would have never made it without Sam.”
“I don’t know who this Sam is,” Lydia brushed a lock of hair behind Sonin’s ear, “But I am grateful to him. Rest. I will stay here in case you thrash again.”
Sonin nodded and rested her head back against her pillow. More pleasant memories followed, as if Sanguine himself was comforting her.