#rikke

"I’ve been promoted.”

He pulled away, with a glint of surprise on his face; a frown appeared on it, but he laughed it off. “So? It’s a single title; it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Be serious. It means to me.”

He scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. A woman like you could be so much more.“ He said, nuzzling her face.

“I’m a soldier, Ulfric, and I know my place. Which is more than I can say for you.”

“You don’t have to tell me about what you are. I’ve seen it,” he replied with a smile. “But don’t lie to me about what you want,” he added, blatantly ignoring her latter words.

“Ulfric-”

“Leave the Legion, come with me. We’ll liberate Skyrim and help rebuild it. I know you would want that more than anything.” He took her hand and kissed it, keeping his eyes locked with hers, inhaling the raw scent of her skin.

“Your ego knows no bounds,” she dropped her hand. “It will be the end of you.”

“As will your blind sense of duty,” he spoke, any amusement disappearing off his face in an instant.

“Don’t talk to me about duty!” The aggression with which she snapped at him startled them both. A slight furrow appeared between his brows. “Not after you’ve abandoned your own for the sake of pride.”

“You stubborn woman,” he grasped her shoulders tightly, any sign of surprise disappearing off his face in an instant. “They took your oath, not your brain!” He pointed to his head with his finger as he finished the sentence. “Skyrim was plunged into despair, and surrendered to the enemy! Our homeland, Rikke! I took it as my duty to stand and protect it!” He shook her again, his grip not any less painful even through layers of fabric, and when she saw the fire in his gaze—a flash of warning—the urge to turn around and leave washed over her like a cold sea wave. They’d argued during the war, specifically nearing its end, and those arguments usually ended with him passionately telling her that they would bring Skyrim to glory, to a rule worthy of Her, but she used to dismiss him, having been concerned with the growing zeal with which he proclaimed it each time.

She released herself from his grip. They glared at each other in the dim light like two predators in an open field. “This, again? We ended the war. There weren’t many choices, even you’d agree.” She added, mockingly.

“Handing over our freedom on a silver plate to the enemy to do with it as they like should've never been a choice. That goes beyond your promotion, you’d agree.” He mocked her back, holding his hand up in the air to mimic a plate. She slapped it away.