Chapter Four: The Dragonborn Inadvertently Becomes a Model
Brand

Solitude is a weird place. My first visit to the city included the bloody beheading of a poor gate-guard who opened the gate for the wrong guy. As soon as I walked through the gates, I got sucked into the crowd around the headsman's block as they relieved this guy - Roggvir - of his head. The crowd had mixed reactions. Some of them mourned his death while others cheered for his grisly end. As Dragonborn, I kept my official opinion on Roggvir to myself - the Eight only know the Nords are hot-blooded enough without me adding to the list of causes they rally to.

My second visit to Solitude includes getting accosted by a high-elf tailor waving this hideous brown, quilted coat thing around and insulting my outfit.

"If you're going to the Blue Palace, you might want to rethink that outfit." The high-elf, Taarie, if I remember right, gives me a look of disdain.

"What's wrong with his outfit?" Borgakh asks. She sounds bored.

Taarie looks up as if noticing Borgakh for the first time. "Oh."

I don't know if that means 'oh, I didn't see you there,' or 'oh, look what the skeever dragged in.' I think it's the latter, but I can't help but grin at Tarrie's expression. Borgakh really doesn't care what other people think of her. In the short time she's been with me, she's been met with a lot of suspicion, but she never raises her hackles at the insults.

When I asked her why not, she shrugged. "I don't see the point in bandying words. If they want a fight, I'll gladly bash their head in. But I won't trade petty insults."

Taarie is lucky Borgakh thinks this way.

Especially since I've seen Borgakh's particular brand of head-smashing and let's just say...it's effective.

"Yeah? What's wrong with it?" I bring Taarie's attention back to me. "I'll have you know this cuirass was crafted by one of the finest Orc blacksmiths in Skyrim. Are you saying you don't like it?"

She cocks her head for a minute. "It looks fine, as far as armor goes, I suppose. But surely you aren't planning to go to the Blue Palace in it?"

I look down at my armor, then back at Borgakh, in her steel plate.

"Actually, I was, yes. Why?" I ask. I try to keep a straight face.

"That's," Taarie gasps. "That's unheard of!"

"Is it?" I tilt my head. The last time I visited the Blue Palace I wore my leather armor and no one stopped me or told me that it was improper. And that was before I had my new black set, crafted by Shuftharz at Mor Kazghur.

Taarie gasps again, as if I've just committed the cardinal sin of social faux-pas. Maybe I have. "Absolutely!" she affirms. "You can't march up to the Blue Palace dressed like that. Especially since you're the Dragonborn."

"How did you -" I start.

"Nevermind that." She waves away my question. "Come. We must get you properly attired. I have just the thing." I sincerely hope it's not the quilt under her arm. She grabs my hand and drags me toward her shop. I shoot Borgakh a helpless look, but she just follows us like there's nothing unusual about any of this. It's times like these that I wish she'd take her helm off. I swear she's laughing under there and just uses the helm to hide it.

Taarie drags me into a shop called Radiant Raiment - right beside the headsman's block. I wonder if she sells clothes to people before their beheading…Can't have you show up to your execution looking like that, now. Come, let me dress you in something more...acceptable.

Taarie interrupts my little fantasy by shoving me into a small room with a mirror and a couple of wardrobes and chests. To my relief, she leaves the quilt-looking thing on the shop counter. She also makes Borgakh wait outside the room. Borgakh shrugs and sits in a nearby chair as Taarie closes the door on us.

"Now, undress," Taarie instructs.

I stare at her for a second with my mouth open. "Do what now?"

"Take your clothes off. You can't put my clothes on top of your armor, so undress."

"Do you bring all your customers into a little room and demand they strip for you?" I ask.

She rolls her eyes. "I'm a tailor. Of course I ask my customers to strip. I can't dress someone if I can't get an accurate measure of their size."

"Are you sure it's for -"

"JUST STRIP!" she yells.

I'm pretty sure I hear laughter from outside the door, but Borgakh must decide I'm not in danger, because she doesn't interfere.

"Alright, alright. I think it's just because you want to see the Dragonborn naked." I start undoing the straps on my leather cuirass.

Taarie sighs loudly. "No. I do not want to see you - wait."

"What?" I pull my cuirass off and go to work on my gauntlets.

"Please tell me you aren't…" she pauses.

"Aren't what?" I ask mischievously.

"Please tell me you have underwear on."

"Um, that's a personal question, don't you think?" I toss the gauntlets to the side.

"It will be more personal if you don't have any," she says dryly.

She has a point.

"Yes," I say. I start undoing the straps on my greaves and boots.

"Yes to which one?" Taarie asks.

"The underwear one." I kick my boots off and take off my shirt. No matter how professional she is, she still checks me out. Whether it's because of my scars or whether she's admiring my muscles, I'm not sure. Or maybe she's measuring me with her eyes. Whatever it is, she's very thorough. I hide a grin.

I start to untie my pants. She reaches out a hand and stops me.

"Seriously," she says. "I need -"

I push her hand away and finish undoing the tie. I drop my pants. Taarie squeezes her eyes shut with a little undignified squeak.

"You can look," I say. "I'm not a complete savage."

Taarie slowly opens her eyes.

I do, in fact, have underwear on.

She gives a small sigh of relief.

"Is this a regular point of contention between you and your customers?"

She regains her composure. "You'd be surprised how many of your uncouth kind march in here with nothing on under their clothing."

"My kind?" I raise my eyebrows. "I might be the Dragonborn, but I'm more civilized than your average Nord, you know."

She looks confused. "But you aren't -"

"Exactly." I wink. "Now, tell me what you've got me in the buff here for, or I'm going to go make my visit to the Blue Palace. Maybe like this."

She looks absolutely horrified. But she doesn't answer. Instead, she pulls a tape measure out of her pocket and unrolls it. Without preamble, she begins measuring different parts of my body. She gets my height, and the length of my legs. She measures my waist and chest and the length of my arms. She even measures around my head. At the point at which I'm starting to wonder if there's anything else she could measure, she rolls the tape back up and declares she's done.

"Wait here a moment," she says. She goes to one of the wardrobes and opens it up. Inside there are rows of outfits hanging on wooden pegs. She rifles through a few of them, then pulls out a green tunic and coat with gold embroidery. She holds them up for a moment, then nods and hands them to me. "Put those on," she instructs.

I shrug and start pulling on the tunic. A moment later, she gives me a pair of dark pants. I put them on too. I'm actually impressed with the way everything fits. I don't think I've ever had a set of clothes fit this well.

"It still needs something," Taarie murmurs. She goes to a trunk in one corner and comes up with a belt. "Add that."

As I get the belt on, she pulls a bear-skin cape out of one of the wardrobes and throws it over my shoulders, fastening it off-center with a gold brooch. Then she spins me around to look in the mirror.

"What do you think?" she asks with a smile.

"Impressive," I say. And it's not entirely a lie. While I wouldn't say it's my color, I don't look half-bad in the outfit.

"It's still missing something," she says.

"Uh, shoes?"

"No, we'll get to those in a minute." She returns to the trunk and pulls out a layered gold necklace with several gemstones set into it. "Add this." I put it on as she rummages in the trunk some more. She comes up with a pair of leather shoes and a gold circlet inset with emeralds.

"The final touches." She holds them out to me.

I put on the shoes and the circlet. She positions me in front of the mirror again. She makes a few adjustments, tilting the cape, straightening my belt, settling the gold necklace against my chest. Finally, she steps back and admires me like I'm a painting at a museum. She smiles.

"There. Now you're fit to go to the Blue Palace."

"Uh, thanks, I guess. But what's the catch?" I ask as I admire my reflection in the mirror. I look like a Thane from the Jarl's court. While I'm not worried about the cost of the outfit (I've got gold to spare back in Whiterun), I know a lot of shopkeeps will force you into something and then declare it sold. And I'm pretty sure that's what Taarie is about to do.

"There's no catch, Dragonborn. The outfit is yours to keep. I just need you to mention my shop to Elisif when you go to the Blue Palace."

"To the Jarl?"

"Exactly. I help you, you help me. I'll even throw in a small reward if Elisif reacts favorably."

"How am I supposed to make her react favorably?"

"I don't know." Taarie shrugs. "You're the Dragonborn. You'll think of something. I'll hold onto your armor until you get back. And like I said, there'll be something extra in it for you if you get Elisif to come down to the shop."

"Alright then." What was the worst that could happen? Elisif was a pretty easy-going Jarl. At least I wasn't trying to convince Idgrod Ravencrone to buy the outfit or anything. "Uh, thanks, I guess."

"No need to thank me," Taarie said as she opened the door and practically pushed me back into the shop. "I'm doing you a favor, Dragonborn. At least now you won't get laughed out of the Blue Palace for showing up dressed like a vagabond."

"Hey! That's part of my roguish charm," I mock protest.

"Of course it is. Now, off to the palace with you!" she insists.

Borgakh stands up and tilts her head in that way she does when she's amused.

"What about Borgakh?" I ask. "What about her clothes?"

Borgakh stiffens.

Taarie waves a hand. "Bodyguards are expected to wear armor. She doesn't need a new outfit."

I open my mouth to tell Taarie that Borgakh isn't my bodyguard, but Borgakh grabs my arm and steers me toward the door instead. "Come on, Dragonborn," she says. "It is time you keep your appointment at court." There's definitely a laugh in her voice.

Once we're outside, I ask, "What, you didn't want to strip for Taarie too?"

Borgakh chuckles. "No. And I also did not think it was worth getting into an argument with her about my status as your bodyguard."

"You're really not a bodyguard, you know," I say.

"Oh, I know. But it's probably easier if we let that prissy high elf think I am."

I sigh. "You're probably right. Let's go to the Blue Palace."


Jarl Elisif's court is one of the more entertaining courts in Skyrim. They aren't as dunderheaded as the court in Riften and they aren't as cold as the court in Markarth or Windhelm. Maybe it's because Elisif is still young. Or maybe it's because she's as in over her head as the rest of Skyrim, but in my few meetings with her, she has been warmer and friendlier than most of the Jarls. More human.

I also appreciate her steward's wisdom and practical, straightforward manner. The court wizard always eyes me like she wants to rip my throat out and some of the Thanes are jackasses, but what can you do? I guess you can't get everything you want in life.

"Just don't do anything...stupid," Borgakh hisses behind me as we climb the stairs to Jarl Elisif's court.

"Stupid?" I ask. "Whatever do you mean?"

I feel her glare between my shoulder blades. "You know exactly what I mean."

I laugh. "Don't worry. I won't break anything. This time," I promise.

"You'd better not." Borgakh growls. She pauses for a second. "Wait. This time?"

I act like I don't hear her.

Under normal circumstances, she would wring an answer out of me, but just then we top the stairs and arrive at court. I feel Borgakh's glare through my bearskin cape. She'll bring this up later, I'm sure of it. But for now, I turn my attention to the court.

Falk and Elisif have their heads bent over a piece of paper on her throne, talking quietly to each other. The court wizard skulks nearby looking as cranky as ever. Bryling and Erikur are in some sort of heated discussion about swords on the side of the room while Bolgier watches them warily, hand on his own sword. I walk into the middle of the room and announce myself.

"Hail, Brand, Dragonborn, Hero of Skyrim, Vanquisher of Dragons, etc., etc."

Elisif looks up with a twinkle in her eye. Even Falk looks amused.

"Hello, Brand," Elisif says.

I bow. "Jarl." Then I turn and give the court wizard and the Thanes a nod. "Court."

"What are you doing here?" Erikur sneers.

"I, my good sir, am advertising. Quite against my will."

"Advertising?" Elisif asks. "For what?"

"For a petty high elf with a grudge against my armor."

There's an undignified snort from somewhere behind me that sounds suspiciously like laughter smothered in a steel helm. By the Divines...I roll my eyes. Falk looks as if he knows what I'm talking about. Elisif looks a little confused.

I decide that if I'm in for a septim, might as well be in for a diamond. "Jarl Elisif," I clasp my hands together and walk up to the throne. "Have you ever thought about what you're wearing as you sit on your throne deciding the fate of Skyrim?"

"Um…"

"Great!" I don't give her a chance to answer. "Because I haven't either. But I've got just the thing for you."

Bolgier watches me carefully from his side of the room and takes a couple of steps forward (I can't blame him. He is Elisif's bodyguard after all, and the last time someone got within shouting distance of the High King's throne, it didn't end so well). Erikur stares at me like he might die of jealousy. I bet he's never been this close to Elisif. Perks of being the Dragonborn, I suppose.

"Oh! Brand, what are you-?" Elisif trails off as I whisk the circlet off her head and replace it with the one Taarie gave me.

"You see, Jarl, changing up your colors is good every once in a while. Or so I've been told." I grin and toss her circlet onto my head. "That, and I hear accessorizing is all the rage among the Thanes."

I unclasp the bearskin cape from around my shoulders and sling it around Elisif instead, clasping it by her right shoulder. Elisif and I are nearly face to face. Even Falk starts to put a hand out at this point.

I lean back and look over at where Erikur wears an identical bear-skin cape. "Isn't that right, Erikur?"

He does what he always does when he doesn't have an answer. He mumbles something and stuffs his face with bread.

I turn back to Elisif, stepping off the dias. "But now, my Jarl, I bet you're wondering where you can buy clothing this fine for yourself, aren't you?" I spread my arms and show off my outfit.

Elisif smiles. I can tell she's trying to hold back a giggle. She reaches up and pulls my circlet off her head, holding it in her lap so she can look at it better. "Perhaps, I am, Dragonborn," she says.

"Oh good. Because this is where I throw in the advertising bit. You should go to Radiant Raiment in Solitude's main square and speak to Taarie about setting you up with an outfit so that she'll give me back my armor." I wink.

I think if Falk wasn't honorbound to keep a straight face while at court he'd burst out laughing. The wizard looks like she thinks I'm even more of a fool. Bolgier looks like he might've decided I'm crazy, but at least his hand is off his sword.

I pull Elisif's circlet off my head and present it back to her with a bow.

She takes it while trying (and failing) to keep a straight face.

"How'd I do?" I ask.

"Don't quit your Dragon-slaying job," Falk says wryly.

"Alas, I wouldn't, if only I had my armor."

Elisif laughs. "Alright, alright, Dragonborn. I will speak with Taarie at Radiant Raiment. And I will make sure that she understands that the Dragonborn is not to be relieved of his armor while on duty."

I raise an eyebrow.

"Which is all the time," she says.

I make a show of sighing in relief. "Thank you, Jarl."

"Anything for you, Dragonborn." Elisif tips her head.

Falk clears his throat beside her.

"Oh, yes! If you are quite done advertising, I have some business I need to return to," she says.

"Carry on, Fair Jarl." I bow. "I'm done disturbing the court."

I turn around and start to head down the stairs. Borgakh follows. As we pass Bolgier, he waves me over.

"A moment, Dragonborn?"

"Yes?" I step up to him.

"Thanks for that."

I tilt my head. "For?"

"For making her laugh," he explains. "The Jarl has a lot on her plate these days, what with the death of her husband and the civil war. Not to mention those petty backbiters who call themselves Thanes. It was nice to see her smile."

"Oh." I'm at a loss for words for a second. "Well, you're welcome."

"Just...don't make a habit of getting that close to Elisif, yeah? I do have a bit of respect to maintain."

"Sure thing." I give him a two-fingered salute.

Bolgier waves me off.

"Now what?" Borgakh asks.

"Now back to Taarie," I say.

"Excellent." This time she doesn't bother hiding the glee in her voice. "You can tell me about breaking things in the Blue Palace on the way then."