@strmwrought
“Jarl Ulfric.” She would not bow to a false King, but still, she lowered her head respectfully, such as she would before any of Skyrim’s jarls. Like almost everyone in this damned province, he, too, had an errand for her, even if it was one of greater significance than a lost sword or a bandit to be slain. If a dragon was threatening his hold... then surely he had to put an end to it. That thought helped appeasing her, mildly bothered by the fact that, once again, she would have to take the long road to get to the point. Still, hopefully he would hear her out now.
“As you demanded - the dragon’s tooth.” It was wrapped in cloth, weighing down heavy in her hands. With slow, solemn steps, she approached the self-proclaimed High King of Skyrim to offer him the proof he’d demanded. As though the accounts of his soldiers were not enough, of this imperial woman devouring the soul of a dragon they have slain. She already feared what they might whisper behind her back, of lacking courage and insufficient skill. Not everybody was born to be a warrior, not everyone was seasoned by countless battles.
“Will this suffice, then?” For a moment, she failed to hide her annoyance entirely. Hopefully he, too, would understand that there were slightly more pressing matters that needed to be dealt with as soon as possible.
