AN: Well… in case you haven't noticed, this fic is all about perspectives. (In the sense that what a character thinks is often wrong…) Or you can call it information asymmetry if you want to sound scholarly.

Dragonsreach, Whiterun City

The Dragonborn let out a sigh of relief after he was finally alone again.

He had excused himself from the council, stating it was the Jarls' responsibility to select a new High King and he should not intervene, and he needed to go so he could train himself, privately.

Then he had walked out of the council with no one trying to stop him.

Delphine was not following him either.

Now out of the woods, he would go back to Breezehome, do something he liked, and forget all about this bad experience.

He went straight back to Breezehome, poured himself some drinks, but accidentally spilled the whole bottle because of his unsettled emotion. Cleaning up the mess, he proceeded inside his room on the second floor, locked himself inside, and pulled out his sketches.

His hobby was drawing, yet not the traditional paintings. What he drew were something similar to picture books, or, as people like him preferred to called it, comics. These were not mainstream in Tamriel, and were considered as informal by most people, but had their popularity in some particular groups. The Dragonborn was among those groups.

He drew many kinds of comics, and the one he was currently drafting was named "Doki Doki Sisters" – some sort of fantasy love story. Brushing off his memory of the council, he did his best to focus on his pen and paper.

Unbeknownst to him, the people around the table had become anxious about his departure, assuming the action had deeper meaning than it seemed.

A farm near Whiterun City

On the bright side, the farmer did not attempt to attack them after the three strange warriors left to find the giant, and the hassle was settled with Genos paying for the farmer's loss.

On the not so bright side, they did not produce flour in this farm.

As a matter of fact, Saitama learned they did not grow any kind of grains in this farm.

Then what was the windmill for?

Saitama waved it off as another unsolved mystery of Skyrim.

Saitama and Genos had to travel to the next farm to find the ingredient, only to be told that flour was sold out there.

Eventually, at the third farm visited, they successfully purchased some flour they needed.

They also bought some other ingredients, like eggs and vegetables. Other than that the dead chicken Genos had killed was brought along, since technically, Genos bought it.

So chicken noodle it was.

Now, where should they cook the noodle?

Saitama decided their old camp would be a good option.

Outside of Whiterun City

Elenwen had left the Great Porch after the Moot had started.

She understood it was purposeless for her to stay at the meeting and most participants did not welcome her at any rate. The Dragonborn had departed from the council as well, and she surmised that it was a test to access the Jarls of Skyrim.

That was none of her business right now, and here she wandered around the outskirt of the city, wishing to have some time to herself thinking alone.

The result of the Moot hardly mattered for the Dominion, as the peace council had already took a lamentable turn for them.

It was clear in the beginning that a permanent truce would be negotiated. Yet the Thalmor being expelled from Skyrim was the worst-case scenario of the conference, although not an entire unexpected one. Still, it was hard for her to swallow the failure, as she had fallen completely helpless under the deterrence of the Dragonborn.

Doubtlessly, that Dragonborn was a major problem to the Dominion and the supremacy of the Altmer.

It was bitter and almost unfair that they – the Altmer, the people with highest culture and the true descendants of Aedra – had all their hard works rendered useless by this single man.

Only one man.

Elenwen's heart sank further.

At this rate, she would never see the day when the Dominion's ideal came true.

Even the barbaric tradition of Talos worship was permitted again in Skyrim.

Elenwen let out a sigh, strolling further from the city gate.

There was nothing she could do right now, except for waiting the result of the Moot and reporting it back to the Dominion, so their authority could utilize the information to decide their next action.

And she was growing restless and depressed during this time of waiting.

Saitama's old camp near Whiterun City

Making noodles was quite troublesome, Saitama concluded.

Apparently, after having gone through the hassle of getting flour and made some dough out of it, the dough had needed to rest – for a couple of hours...

Saitama had decided he should rest too, and taken a nap at the camp.

When he woke up, the first thing he noticed was that Genos was not at the camp. Then, looking around in the encampment, he found a note left by Genos, which said the spellsword was going to the city to buy some vegetables.

Vegetables... Saitama had totally forgotten about that.

He guessed there were some perks traveling with Genos after all.

Yawning, Saitama got up and walked to the place where the dough rested.

He checked on the dough, only to realize he could not recall any instruction from the recipe Genos had dictated.

Slightly frustrated, Saitama had no other choice but to wait for Genos to come back.

Elenwen was more than slightly frustrated as she could not find any resort to vent her anger and frustration after the conference.

The need for some distraction was almost desperate for her.

Indeed, she had to find some distraction now lest she should keep on remembering the stern face of the Dragonborn, her own fear and her powerlessness.

Although she was a diplomat, Elenwen was not in the mood for politics or anything similar. She wanted something less complicated – something more straightforward and perhaps violent.

Tapping into her old memories as a Thalmor interrogator, Elenwen grasped what she desired.

She desired to hurt someone – preferably, some human.

It might seem to be a twisted thought for many, whereas for someone like Elenwen – a loyal partisan of the Dominion and a true believer of Altmer superiority – it was simply like taking out the trash. She would not felt sorry for the injury or even death of these lesser races.

In truth, if possible, she wished she could kill the Dragonborn, but that would be extremely impractical. So Elenwen would have to settle for some less important person. In fact, she probably should choose someone inconspicuous, in case that the Dragonborn, who was still in town, found out.

It was when dwelling in these thought of hers, Elenwen had a glimpse of something worth a note – an encampment with the semblance of a bandit camp.

She knew immediately this was what she was looking for – a perfect target to loose her temper on.

There was no way Elenwen would lose the fight against some regular bandits.

Besides, no one would miss these scum when they disappeared.

Approaching the camp, Elenwen was a little disappointed as there was only one bandit there.

A bald man dressed in regular clothing.

After taking a closer look, Elenwen realized the man was likely not even a bandit. The farmer clothes, the unimpressive appearance and the bland facial expression all indicated that this man probably had not seen one battle in his petty life.

Just an ordinary civilian.

Civilian or not, Elenwen did not care. As long as no one else would found out, she was willing to kill him to relieve her own ire.

It was, after all, a rather secluded camp.

Elenwen cracked an almost psychopathic smile as she readied her spell.

The only blemish in this battle was that the target was likely too helpless to fight back, which would definitely take away some of the excitement.

There again, Elenwen was not exactly here to fight either, but to let out her oppressed negative feelings about that Dragonborn.

She did not need a strong opponent at the moment.

Saitama was considering to go back to sleep, as a strange female elf in some sort of uniform showed up.

Then, without a single word spoken, the elf attacked, casting shock spell with both hands.

Geez, not again…

The worst aspect of staying in this camp was being mistaken as some bandit.

And Saitama always felt annoying when people started to attack without warning – they might ruin his properties.

At least the first strike from that elf was nowhere near the luggage or the dough.

Elenwen was not certain how she could miss at this distance, especially when casting chain lightening.

Actually, she was quite sure her spell had landed true, if not for the fact that the man remained completely unaffected.

Then the bald man spoke. "Uh… I think you are misunderstanding. I am not a bandit. Not everyone camping is a bandit, you know? It would be nice if you ask before attacking…"

Why was this man not afraid at all? Perhaps the man was just simple-minded. Or perhaps the man was so unacquainted to the dangers that he could not recognize one.

One way or another, it only confirmed one thing – her strike had missed due to her carelessness.

After that lightening spell, which was highly familiar with, had failed to hit that peasant, who looked awfully incompetent, she felt she was about to lose control.

That would be the final straw for her in this appalling day, where everything had gone wrong.

It was driving her insane.

Elenwen laughed madly as she fell into hysteria.

"Bandit or not," Elenwen said in a voice higher and louder than she expected, "You are going to die! I will kill you slowly and painfully! Run all you want! But it will not change the inevitable outcome…"

The bald man simply stared at her, as if seeing some rare animal.

Elenwen channeling the magic electricity to her both hands, while continuing her monologues.

"… I will strike you down first! But I won't stop there. Maybe I should skin you alive and… "

Elenwen's chain lightening launched again.

Then suddenly, darkness took her.

What was wrong with that elf woman?

Saitama frowned at the limp shape of the strange woman who he had just knocked out.

That woman was rude and crazy, and if he had not knocked her unconscious, she would possibly destroy every fragile things in the camp with that shock spell. Chain lightening indeed tended to bounce around and cause casualty around the caster.

Such spell being in the hands of a lunatic was definitely harmful to others… and others' properties.

Saitama figured he maybe should do something about it.

"Sensei! I got the vegetables!"

The voice of Genos disrupted Saitama's musing.

Looking down towards the senseless woman and then towards Genos and the bag of vegetables, Saitama made up his mind.

The crazy woman could wait. He would have his noodles first.

The noodles were much more important than this nutcase of questionable origin was.

Breezehome, Whiterun City

Several hours had passed since the Dragonborn had left Dragonsreach, and he just heard someone was knocking on the door of his room.

He opened the door to see, unsurprisingly, Delphine.

What was she doing here? Was the council over?

"Congratulations, Dragonborn." The woman said. "Things worked out as you expected."

He expected… What did he expect? More precisely, what did Delphine think he was expecting?

He had a bad feeling about this.

"Can you elaborate on that?" He asked cautiously.

"Your intention was clear to everyone at the council." Delphine said. "The place of choice spoke loudly."

His intention? Why did he not know that? And the place of choice? He simply chose a random place for the meeting… Or perhaps it was Delphine who chose that place in the first place? He could not remember now.

Delphine continued her explanation, not noticing the strange expression on the Dragonborn's face. "Great Porch was the place where Olaf One-Eye won his battle against the Dragon Numinex. Olaf was also named High King of Skyrim because of this deed."

"A dragon vanquisher who became the High King of Skyrim…" He was thinking out loud.

"Yes," Delphine stated firmly, "They chose you as the next High King of Skyrim."

WHAT!?

Did he hear it right?

No! He did not want to be a King at all!

"It is fairly unorthodox, since High King is traditionally chosen among the Jarls. They know you currently need your own time and space as a Dragonborn, and did not want to rule over a hold, which often involves insignificant trifles unworthy of your attention. You will not become a Jarl but become the new High King, who rules over the Jarls." Delphine did not paid any mind on his now paled face. "Skyrim require a strong leader. No one is a better candidate than you, and you have the highest reputation in whole Skyrim as well. Many believe that tradition can be created when a legend rises. You, Dragonborn, are indisputably a legend on earth. Even though there were some voices of opposition, Ulfric in particular, the final decision was made without controversy…"

Delphine kept on explaining the course of the Moot, as she assume the Dragonborn – no, it was King now – wanted her to.

Yet King could not hear in a single word, as if his ear turned deaf.

Turned deaf from the shock.

What had he gotten himself into…

How in the world did he just became King?

AN: It takes a King to be King, you know?

Anyways, I decided to make King an amateur manga artist. Not a best match, but it's the best I can think of. So if you have better ideas, you are welcome to tell me.

The reasons for my decision:

It's a no-need-to-go-out and no-need-to-interact-with-others hobby.

Even though drawing manga is not in the lore, it is possible TES, since you only need pen and paper.

He get to draw some awkward genre, like the genre of the video games he prefers.

Saitama. Well… to be more specific, I need something he and Saitama can be related, like in the OPM. And Saitama read manga, right? Besides, I recall there is some kind of omake in ONE's version of OPM that shows Saitama and ONE are drawing a woman or something. (And the woman they drew ended up almost none-human.) My memory is a bit of blur and I can't seem to find that chapter…

I think that's about it. As a side note, I did not put playing instrument as the man's hobby mainly because of Saitama – Saitama does not really strike me as a guy loving to listen to music. And I can't even describe how out of place it is the mental image of Saitama and King playing instruments together… Yeah, not a pretty sight.

Other than that, I made King a bard because that is a profession that hardly need to fight but get to travel around.

Thanks for reading!