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At first, she balked when he'd put his arm around her shoulders or rest his hand on her hip casually as they walked the streets of Windhelm in the morning or dusk hours. Her body would stiffen, and she'd naturally slow her pace so that she would be just out of comfortable reach of him...an easy feat as every one of his normal steps took at least two of hers. He seemed patient enough with her hesitance, but she did catch the deeper rise and fall of his chest...a sigh.
This unintentional game continued for what seemed forever to her. Each time his touch was gentle and unassuming, never grabbing and forceful. Each time, though she relished such touches in private corners, shadows, his chambers, she would move from it.
Gods, didn't he understand she was afraid for him? Afraid for his reputation? She'd been the secret consort of men before...that was a position she was used to. Did he CARE what his fellow Proud Nords thought of him with his hand on a Cat's waist?
Then she thought of what she knew of his life...choices he'd made that could not have been popular at the time. Maybe, for whatever reason, this...affection...meant something to him.
And so, when the streets were less crowded, or when they were on the long bridge to the gates where only the occasional guard passed them by, she would trot faster and oh so softly, she'd lean her head against his arm. Her large ears would pick up the purr of a chuckle that would rise in his throat, and a large hand would find rest on her as they walked. It was so new to her, so strange, and yet she grew to love it.
Still, when one of his citizens approached, she would duck away from the embrace. Once more, he was patient with her, allowing her to flit from his grasp, and she mused over that strange idea. This man had never let a thing out of his grasp that had been in his sights. And yet he seemed to wait for her...something she figured was not normally in his nature to do.
Finally, it happened one morning. He could feel her body begin to grow stiff as they walked, could see just out of the corner of his eye her ears begin to lay back into her ebony hair. Windhelm was just waking up, the city's denizens just beginning to mill about the streets, and he could practically see the need to hide flitting through her expressive eyes.
"I told you," he began softly, his iconic voice still a rumble even as low as it was, "not so many nights ago that I'm not ashamed of you."
"You should be," Iona answered, momentarily remaining close to him, brow furrowed sadly. "Public opinion matters for someone like you...it'll grow to mean more the closer you come to the throne..."
He laughed, and her ears shot up, and she tilted her head at him. "Have you not heard the rumors on your travels, Iona?" Ulfric asked, smiling down at her like a fox that had cornered a mouse. "Because I've heard that Ulfric Stormcloak has taken to taming Dragons as of late." He elbowed her gently. "A dangerous enterprise, to be sure. Poor bastard. Falling for such a wild heart."
She hissed indignantly. "Great, so you're fine with all of this then?" The fur on her cheeks puffed out even as she tried to hide the wave of flattery with mild annoyance.
He shrugged, his silver eyes closing momentarily underneath an unconcerned brow. "People talk." When his eyes opened once more, they were directly on her, and he was smiling in that way that she'd found she could not ignore even if she tried. "Girl, they already know. Why try to hide that which is obvious?" With that last bit of wisdom, he dropped his hand from her shoulders, assuming it would be what she wanted. "But, my opinion is not the only one that matters here..."
He could feel the weight of his cloak lessen as her tiny arm snaked underneath it, could feel her hip pressing against the side of his thigh as they walked. Raising an eyebrow, he canted his head towards her, grey eyes looking more youthful in their curiosity than she'd thought possible.
The cat giggled and reached for his hand, looping it around her waist so that it rested comfortably on the swell of her hip, and he found himself smiling almost stupidly.
"Well, if they're going to talk..." she started, winking upwards at him.
"...might as well give them something to talk about?" he asked, smirking at his companion.
She found it easier somehow to ignore some of the stares. Maybe because she was caught up in admiring the genuine smile her simple act of public affection had brought to his face.
"Soooo, what's this about falling for a "wild heart"...a Dragon?" she inquired, a devilish lilt at the end of her words.
Ulfric cleared his throat, and she thought she caught just the slightest bit of red warming his cheeks. "Well...that is...the rumor..."
Dammit you two assholes, quit playing chess with each other and move to Twister instead. I just wanted to draw a happy couple doing happy couple things. Also wanted to try out my new inking pens AND I AM IN LOOOOOVE.
This unintentional game continued for what seemed forever to her. Each time his touch was gentle and unassuming, never grabbing and forceful. Each time, though she relished such touches in private corners, shadows, his chambers, she would move from it.
Gods, didn't he understand she was afraid for him? Afraid for his reputation? She'd been the secret consort of men before...that was a position she was used to. Did he CARE what his fellow Proud Nords thought of him with his hand on a Cat's waist?
Then she thought of what she knew of his life...choices he'd made that could not have been popular at the time. Maybe, for whatever reason, this...affection...meant something to him.
And so, when the streets were less crowded, or when they were on the long bridge to the gates where only the occasional guard passed them by, she would trot faster and oh so softly, she'd lean her head against his arm. Her large ears would pick up the purr of a chuckle that would rise in his throat, and a large hand would find rest on her as they walked. It was so new to her, so strange, and yet she grew to love it.
Still, when one of his citizens approached, she would duck away from the embrace. Once more, he was patient with her, allowing her to flit from his grasp, and she mused over that strange idea. This man had never let a thing out of his grasp that had been in his sights. And yet he seemed to wait for her...something she figured was not normally in his nature to do.
Finally, it happened one morning. He could feel her body begin to grow stiff as they walked, could see just out of the corner of his eye her ears begin to lay back into her ebony hair. Windhelm was just waking up, the city's denizens just beginning to mill about the streets, and he could practically see the need to hide flitting through her expressive eyes.
"I told you," he began softly, his iconic voice still a rumble even as low as it was, "not so many nights ago that I'm not ashamed of you."
"You should be," Iona answered, momentarily remaining close to him, brow furrowed sadly. "Public opinion matters for someone like you...it'll grow to mean more the closer you come to the throne..."
He laughed, and her ears shot up, and she tilted her head at him. "Have you not heard the rumors on your travels, Iona?" Ulfric asked, smiling down at her like a fox that had cornered a mouse. "Because I've heard that Ulfric Stormcloak has taken to taming Dragons as of late." He elbowed her gently. "A dangerous enterprise, to be sure. Poor bastard. Falling for such a wild heart."
She hissed indignantly. "Great, so you're fine with all of this then?" The fur on her cheeks puffed out even as she tried to hide the wave of flattery with mild annoyance.
He shrugged, his silver eyes closing momentarily underneath an unconcerned brow. "People talk." When his eyes opened once more, they were directly on her, and he was smiling in that way that she'd found she could not ignore even if she tried. "Girl, they already know. Why try to hide that which is obvious?" With that last bit of wisdom, he dropped his hand from her shoulders, assuming it would be what she wanted. "But, my opinion is not the only one that matters here..."
He could feel the weight of his cloak lessen as her tiny arm snaked underneath it, could feel her hip pressing against the side of his thigh as they walked. Raising an eyebrow, he canted his head towards her, grey eyes looking more youthful in their curiosity than she'd thought possible.
The cat giggled and reached for his hand, looping it around her waist so that it rested comfortably on the swell of her hip, and he found himself smiling almost stupidly.
"Well, if they're going to talk..." she started, winking upwards at him.
"...might as well give them something to talk about?" he asked, smirking at his companion.
She found it easier somehow to ignore some of the stares. Maybe because she was caught up in admiring the genuine smile her simple act of public affection had brought to his face.
"Soooo, what's this about falling for a "wild heart"...a Dragon?" she inquired, a devilish lilt at the end of her words.
Ulfric cleared his throat, and she thought she caught just the slightest bit of red warming his cheeks. "Well...that is...the rumor..."
Dammit you two assholes, quit playing chess with each other and move to Twister instead. I just wanted to draw a happy couple doing happy couple things. Also wanted to try out my new inking pens AND I AM IN LOOOOOVE.
Category Artwork (Traditional) / General Furry Art
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 960 x 1280px
File Size 567.1 kB
Listed in Folders
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