A/N: Hey, everyone! First of all, I know it's been nearly two years since I published anything, and I am so sorry for that. I don't really know where this story is going, so I will not make any promises that it will get finished. This is more of an experiment, so bear with me!

Chapter One: It Broke, Don't You See?!

The noon day sun radiated across the bluest of skies as we walked down the stones pathway back towards Whiterun, the wind was blowing softly past us. You'd think a sun so bright would give off at least a little bit of warmth, but in the cold province of Skyrim, that was very unlikely. Even with the sun shining merrily in the sky, and the distant sounds of birds chirping, it didn't take away from the cold air that could penetrate even the toughest of armour.

I hissed as the cold breeze wormed its way under my armour, touching my cotton shirt clad skin underneath. "Damned weather," I grumbled as we walked. "Remind me again why I am forced to walk back to Whiterun?"

My housecarl, Lydia, chuckled lightly, "Because, Rina, you got word of a dragon attacking Dawnstar, and insisted we go and deal with it. Even after it ate our horses, that didn't stop you from plunging your sword through its head, did it? Besides, you're the one who wouldn't allow the Jarl of Dawnstar to provide horses for us because, and I quote "I am the Dragonborn, I'm certain we can make it back on foot just fine"; you're too stubborn and kind for your own good, you know."

I looked back at the road ahead of us, scowling. "Ugh, sometimes I wish I wasn't." I looked back at Lydia, "I couldn't just let them give up their horses to us! They'd just been attacked by a dragon; that would be high unethical."

Lydia smiled knowingly at me, "See? There it is again – your unending kindness. You best be careful, my Thane, it could be your undoing if you are not mindful." I knew she was teasing, but it didn't stop me from smacking her shoulder in annoyance. The Nord merely snickered at my sad little attempt to bruise her. Being a Breton, and much slighter than Lydia, my punches wouldn't do much to her Skyrim hardened skin.

That being said, we both knew I could knock her off her feet in a manner of seconds if I wanted to. Being the Dragonborn, I had the ability to harness the power of The Voice, meaning I could absorb the souls of Dragons I had slayed, and harness their powers in the form of a Shout. Ever since The Greybeards had informed me I was Dragonborn several months before, I had slowly begun harvesting as many dragon souls as possible in order to defeat Alduin, the World Eater, who has been terrorizing Skyrim for months now. I knew the final battle was drawing slowly nearer, as I had finally learned quite possibly the one shout that could bring him down: Dragonrend. It could yank dragons right out of the sky, and bring them crashing to the earth if I needed it to. In my final assault against the beast, if he tried to fly again, I could ram him into the snow as much as I wanted.

Even so, the idea of facing off against Alduin still made me nervous. I had already seen him twice now, and each time was more terrifying than the last. I knew what was coming, and I knew I may or may not make it out alive. That was what terrified me.

The wind was picking up as we continued up the path. I could see Whiterun looming over the hills in the distance, and knew I was only perhaps another half hour away from Breezhome, my house within the city. Jarl Balgruuf had generously named me Thane of his court, offering me the ability to buy property in town, as well as the services of my now good friend, Lydia the Housecarl.

We were just coming up to the Loreuis Farm, when I noticed something down the road. It looked like a wagon that had been turned over, and a horse was standing looking very melancholy nearby. A wagon wheel was lying sideways in the ditch next to the wagon. But it wasn't this scene of the evidentially broken wagon that surprised me the most. It was the man standing, well tottering, next to it.

He was clad in an old looking jester's outfit, complete with the cap, and had very pale skin, and dark red hair. He was leaping from foot to foot and his hands on his hips.

He did not look happy.

Lydia and I approached him slowly, Lydia seemed more wary than I, and I was feeling very curious. The man was grumbling to himself as he stood there. As we walked up I could hear what he was saying.

"Oh bother and befuddle! Cicero is stuck, STUCK! Damnedest wagon wheel!" He squawked in a shrill voice, while hopping up and down in frustration. Lydia and I exchanged looks of mild amusement as we walked up to him. He didn't seem to notice us, so I cleared my throat loudly.

"Ehem, problem?" I asked, trying to keep my voice even, while trying to not giggle at how ridiculous he looked. The jester whirled around to face me, eyeing me with surprisingly amber eyes.

"Yes, yes, yes! Cicero is stuck, the wheel broke off don't you see? Cicero was taking his mother to her new home and –" He paused, looking suddenly thoughtful, "well, not quite, she is quite dead you see." He giggled, and gestured to the large crate upon the wagon, which I eyed with apprehension. "Her crypt in Bravil was desecrated, so Cicero decided to bring her here! But oh Damndest wagon wheel!" He, well Cicero, kicked the broken wagon in frustration, while continuing to mutter to himself. "The farmer, Loreius, he has tools! But he won't help poor Cicero, oh no! He won't help us at all! He is of no help!" His voice reached such a pitch that Lydia and I actually cringed.

I took a small step forward, "So, your wheel broke, and Loreius won't help you fix it?" I said slowly. This man seemed to be quite out of his mind, and I didn't want to provoke any kind of attack. Even so, he was stranded, and I could already feel my need to help him start to grow. Oh Gods, I wasn't going to hear the end of this from Lydia later.

Cicero nodded quickly, his head bobbing up and down so fast I thought I heard his neck crack. He suddenly grabbed both my hands in his, and I heard Lydia start to draw her war hammer. I gave her a look over my shoulder not to do anything rash, and turned back to look at the jester whose face was mere inches from mine now. "You seem like a kindly stranger, would you talk to Loreius for poor Cicero? I can pay you! With coin! Yes, shiny, clinky coin!" He was shaking my hands in time with his head now, and I was starting to feel dizzy.

"Uh okay, I can do that, sure." I heard Lydia sigh from behind me. Damn it. I pulled my hands out of his grasp, and turned to walk up the hill to Loreius's farm. "Stay here," added to Lydia who started to follow me. "Just in case," I added under my breath, and she nodded. I didn't know what his Cicero fellow was capable of, and I wasn't about to risk leaving him alone.

I walked up the hill, and found Loreius tending to his garden. As I approached, the man leaped up, and greeted me warmly. "Dragonborn, welcome! How can I help you?"

I glanced back over my shoulder, "The, um, little man could use your help fixing his wagon."

Loreius let go of my hand immediately, looking annoyed. "Who, that Cicero feller? I already told him no. He's out of his mind, can't you see that? He claims he's transporting his mother to a new home, but how can I trust that?"

I sighed, my patience starting to dwindle. "Look, I know you'll be paid for it."

"Paid?" Said Loreius incredulously, "I don't care about being paid. What if he is smuggling illegal goods, or trafficking weapons? I'm sorry Dragonborn, but I cannot help him. I don't want to get involved."

I looked him dead in the eye. Over the last little while, I had gotten pretty good at persuading people when absolutely necessary. "Look, I trust you to do the right thing, Loreius. Wouldn't you expect the same if you were in Cicero's position?"

Loreius stared back at me, mouthing words. Finally he took a deep breath. "Alright, fine. You're right Dragonborn. I suppose I should be the bigger man in this case." He glanced down the hill at Cicero and his broken wagon with apprehension. "Tell the, uh, jester I'll be down shortly." He turned away from me, and I took that as a sign that the conversation was over.

I trudged back down the hill to find Lydia looking like she was ready to kill someone, and Cicero dancing around his wagon, waiting for my return. "Have fun?" I teased Lydia as I walked up, and the Nord glared daggers at me and I knew I would pay for this later.

I turned to Cicero, "Loreius agreed to help you, and he'll be down in a minute."

Cicero's face lit up like a child's on a holiday. "Oh, the kindly stranger helped poor Cicero! He knew she would!" He ran around the side of the wagon, and came back with a sack of gold, tossing it to me. "Here you are, kindly stranger! Shiny, clinky gold, as Cicero promised!" He cried in his shrill voice, grinning, and I smiled awkwardly.

"Um, thanks, I guess. Will you be alright now?" Cicero nodded furiously, and I smiled slightly. "Alright, well take care of yourself then." Lydia and I turned away and started walking back down the road towards Whiterun. As we were walking, Cicero called after us.

"Is there a name Cicero can thank the kindly stranger with?" I turned back, and he was looking at me with big, earnest eyes.

I raised a hand in an awkward kind of greeting, "Ah, my name is Rina."

Cicero's face lit up, and he bowed low before us, his nose almost touching the ground. "Cicero thanks kindly Rina for her help! He will not soon forget her kindness, and hopes they meet again one way!" He raised his head and looked at me, and I gave him a nervous wave.

"Um, you're welcome, Cicero. Me too, take care of yourself."

Oh, how sadly right we both were.

A/N: Okay, so there it is, my first attempt at actually writing something in over two years. I hope I'm not too rusty. R&R, please! I hope you all liked it.