Once in the room, she began her speech. "As I said, we're not here to force you to give us your artifacts. However, the Mage Guild is putting lots of pressure on independent scholars." I snorted "I'd like to see them try." She gave a pained grimace and shook her head. "They're persuading the council to agree. They'll come for you." The mage standing near the doorway chimed in "Your allegiance isn't a secret. They'll likely bust down the door and take your artifacts". I'd like to see them try. "They'd be torn apart by angry atronachs the moment they entered, a-". "And they would send more. Even you can't defeat the entire Imperial Army. But that's not why we're here."
"And why is that? You have yet to say why.".
"I'm offering you your position at the College. You were our top candidate and have experience to boot."
It's obvious she meant to stroke my ego, but it wouldn't work. Having killed Alduin, many began flowing to the College of Winterhold, attempting to befriend me. Most seemed to think that an Archmage needed hundreds of friends to survive. Needless to say, I was a little irate, which may have led to several burns and a pile of crispy bodies. Eventually, after the Necromancy Ban and the complaints from the Jarl about having to clean up the remains of my "arguments", I left the college and moved to my manor in Falkreath. Fortunately, it seemed the Nords there cared more for The Dragonborn Archmage than The Drunk Who Lives in The Inn. However, being the only Argonian in Falkreath's Inn, most soon figured who I was (Especially when the Jarl was trying to show off by calling himself my "political mentor", but most were smart enough to see I wanted to be alone. The ones who didn't all visited the local priest for burns, and quickly stopped bothering me after.
She could stroke something other than my ego…
Hey, use the right head.
Oh shit, sorry
Suddenly distracted by some lewd images, I tried to cover by giving her my best glare, and then said "Why are you bringing this message? Do you want to be pushing up daisies?"
The mage at the door stepped closer, and I kid you not, tried puppy eyes. Is she hurt in the head? Why is she doing puppy eyes? Staring at her, I tried to figure out why, but after a minute it finally clicked. She's carrying a Conjuration Tome.
Damn, a student. The Noble knows my weaknesses.
The Noble cleared her throat, directing my attention back at her, elaborating "I also happen to know that you're a powerful conjurer, one of the few still alive after the second Great War". She's pushing at this gap in my armour. She's got my inability to not teach, now all she has to do i-
Smirking in victory, the Noble then leaned forward, and with the conflict in my head, overthrew my defenses with one statement.
"I've been told the College is now stocking Honningbrew for a local support program".
…
…
…
There's no question anymore.