I took almost a week of travel to stand on a hill before the ancient City of Kings, the home of Talos Stormcrown, and now Ulfric Stormcloak. He looked over to the gem that beheld his dragon eyes. Treasure, he thought, priceless beyond measure. He only spent one of those nights in her arms on the journey, at a quiet inn they passed along the away. Interestingly enough he smelled the near ancient dragon blood still seeped into some of the planks. Maybe that is why it remained in business in the middle of nowhere like it was. There was power in the very bones of the building.
It was just something that happened at first, waking up tied together because there was no other choice, but now was just something they did. Neither questioned it, but neither talked about it. Jon didn't want to talk about it, because then what in the Oblivion would he say? I love you, but it also may be because I view you as property to hoard due to some Divine mammoth shit. Nay on that. She wasn't talking about it either, as what would she say? I love you, but its also because you're my Thane, a literal god, and the power on your tongue and my duty to you is making it so. Jon decided to let the status quo continue as it was. As long as he kept waking up in her sturdy arms. Talking might ruin it.
He said, "You going to be okay?"
Lydia shifted a bit and said, "I understand stopping here for the night, but going to his court?"
Jon shrugged, "I don't like it either based on what I've heard, but we survived Helgan together, and I need to see if word of Whiterun's War Against the Dragons has gotten here. The Jarl will no doubt be doing more than sit on his throne while his hold is at war, like coordinating with others and sharing information, which was my exact recommendation that he accepted. The Enemy of my Enemy is my friend. Ancient saying where I come from. If Ulfric is willing to fight against a common foe, then we need him and his banners."
Lydia nodded, "I understand. If I may ask, will you ever choose a side?"
Jon said, "You always may ask. I need advisors, not yes men that never question me. As for choosing a side, I'm leaning towards Empire just because I think Ulfric is a fuck that shows no respect for the Thu'um or an honor duel. As for right now? Only if one side is stupid enough to force my hand. If Tullius sends assassins after me because he thinks I'm to dangerous or something, I will shout his armies to pieces in the name of High-King Ulfric. The reverse is also true. If either attempt to take Whiterun by force, they die that's for certain. The Worm is our only target right now."
Lydia chuckled, "Yeah how bout that. One man that thinks he's the heir to Talos, and he uses the Thu'um to win a duel that he would have won anyway, and here you are, the Dragonborn that could have killed that bard by speed alone but still lost the duel. Intentionally I recon, with your usual flair so it looked fair."
Jon smiled, "No point in ruining their chance at happiness together because I wanted a night in the sack. That dastardly bard did have impeccable foot work though. The second round he got me fair and square, used my own parry against me, so I just recreated it. The guy obviously loved her, and she seemed like she would have committed to him anyway if I hadn't shown up. Blew off some steam with some bandits to stupid to live. Remind me that I may have a bounty to claim in Falkreath hold if we end up there."
Lydia kept her smile, "Of course, my Thane. That's the difference between you two. Ulfric has no personal honor. If he had he wouldn't have made the challenge as he did, and then abuse the Thu'um. Word I heard was that King Torygg actually looked up to Ulfric, and would have joined his cause if only he had asked. All of Skyrim would have left the Empire united, like Hammerfell did."
Jon winced, "Yeah, I really hate the bastard now. How do you fuck that up. Still changes nothing except the fact that I'll just conquer Skyrim myself if the Empire proves too stupid to live."
Lydia wasn't phased. She shrugged, "Talos conquered the Second Empire, making the Third. He did it in the name of Skyrim, by ancient right of might."
Jon said, "I know the Pact with Akatosh, but was there anything specifically that triggered the Final War of the Second Age?"
Lydia said, "History isn't my strong suit, but the First Empire was founded by Saint Alessia, a Dragonborn, to throw off Elven slavery against man. It originally lit the Dragonfires. Then history happened, and the Second Empire founded by the Remans never had a Dragonborn emperor, and it was infected by secret Daedra worship. Talos was said to have switched sides mid battle, and began butchering Imperial forces in Highrock for crimes they were committing there. Then his rebellion swept across the Empire with him at the front. Afterwards he relit the Dragonfires and took the name Tiber Septim. From my understanding, the Empire itself is basically the Pact with Akatosh. It was his will that it stands with a Dragonborn Emperor."
Jon said, "To protect Nirn and Mundus, no doubt. And now its irrelevant because the Dragonfires are permanently sealed. Who is the Emperor?"
Lydia said, "Emperor Titus Mede II. The Oblivion crisis obviously caused chaos everywhere. Mede I was a warlord, that survived Kvatch actually, and was rumored to enter Oblivion with the Hero. He staked his claim in the aftermath, and retook what he could secure in the name of the Empire while others were plotting, scheming, and assassinating. Skyrim immediately followed him when he showed up to solitude, the city still burning in some places, and challenged the High-King to a duel for the right to rule the Empire, and thus Skyrim. The duel never actually happened, mind you, and it still fractured in many places, but we're still the Third Empire, founded by Talos Stormcrown, Ninth Divine."
Jon said, "They respected the sheer audacity of it. He probably also already had his own power base backing him, so it wasn't just bluster."
Lydia said, "The entire western coast of Cyrodiil put up a fierce resistance, and it was because of him. Whether he only walked out of Kvatch, or he walked out of the gate to Oblivion as well, he took command of the surrounding cities and kept Dagon's forces from taking them, kept people alive. If he had been able to save more of the Empire, he would have been a Great Hero next to Saint Martin and the Champion in that crisis, probably been a Living Saint himself."
Jon said, "And his son?"
Lydia said, "A fair and just man. Kind, he's said to be. Not a warrior like his father, but he got us though the Great War. Many Nords respect him, because he was immediate in his actions at the beginning of the war. Rumor is his he shouted down his advisors for suggesting he send a diplomatic party to try and make peace with the Thalmor when they first got word of invasion."
Jon said, "You can't appease fascists. That's what the Second World War was about, and it will be what your Second Great War will be about. I will pick a side, then."
Jon and Lydia stabled their horses just before the bridge to the city proper. It was were thick and high, hardened further by the ice cold constantly surrounding it. Their boots crunched the snow always piling to blow away then pile again. Lydia was in her Mammoth cloak, and Jon was in his Graybeard one. The would pass guards every so often, and mid way on the bridge was a guard posting with a draw bridge that segregated the city in the event of attack. Jon thought that there was only one place someone could learn the Thu'um if they weren't a Dragonborn. Jon hoped his cloak would put the Jarl off balance, but assumed nothing. He was planing to play the friendly neighborhood wizard anyway to make sure he had the Jarl's commitment against the dragons.
Entering the man door of the massive city gate, the were met by a courtyard with an inn on the other end of it. All in all, Jon expected around 60,000 people lived in this place. It was a truly massive city, and it was a credit to the architects that built it and encased the entire thing in a wall. The rumor Lydia heard was that the city isn't actually filled yet. That there is more space that was built, and isn't used because the city hasn't grown to fill it.
At steps to the inn across the courtyard, was a Nord man speaking angerly to a Dunmer woman with an aloof face on her. The man was saying, "I say we take all you filthy darkies and lizards and throw em in a pit. Then there wont be any Thalmor spies in our midst."
She rolled her eyes. Day in and day out with this man. She said, "If I where a Thalmor Spy, you would have been the first to go when I let them in the city. In fact, I probably would have already done it just to shut you up, n'wah."
Just as the man brought his fist back, Jon said, "There a problem?"
He said, "Oh great, a Redguard. At least you have a real Nord with you. Go back to Hammerfell where you belong."
Jon said, "Boy, I'm going to stomp a mud-hole in your ass if you don't shut the fuck up."
The man cracked his knuckled. He said, "They call us Stone-Fist for a reason, Redguard. I'll even put a measure on it, make it fair and legal."
The Dunmer said, "Well, I knew you were stupid, but I didn't know you were suicidal, n'wah."
The Nord shot her an eye, "What do you know, darkie."
She said, "Why would I tell you? Wouldn't believe me anyway. I'm a spy, remember."
He pointed his finger, "What. Do. You. Know. Or maybe me and my friends pay a visit to your filthy slum and tell y-"
Jon's hand was clasped around the man's throat, truth borrowing into the man's eyes. She said, "That, my n'wah, is the reason they call Uthgerd the Tamed now. If that wasn't enough, he's the one of the two dragon-slaying Thanes of Whiterun. Word travels fast among us oppressed minorities, and word is he has the strength of ten men with the steed to match. You can probably feel it right now, the strength at least. Maybe I'll get a try at the steed."
Jon threw the man back down onto the steps. He stood over him. He was this man's god. He commanded, "I do not tolerate bigotry."
The man nodded and quickly ran away from the Dragonborn himself. There was no dishonor in that. It was just good sense. Jon said, "You alright?"
She nodded, "Yeah, thanks. He was about to get burned to a crisp with those fists of his. Former Mage-Guard, I was. I would have been executed probably, but it would have been well worth it."
Jon said, "They really would have executed you for defending yourself?"
She said, "I would have killed him, the drunk idiot. Might have even sparked a purge. The Jarl has been personally fair, inviting us in in the first place, but he does nothing to control his people, and does nothing to help us. If I had killed him, there would have been no defense. Not to his people at least."
Jon asked, "I'm a foreigner, and have no context. Why are you here?"
She said, "The Red Mountain exploded. Volcano. The eruption devastated most of Morrowind. We're refugees. Jarl Ulfric welcomed us, but we should have kept moving. I know at least one that did, and she's doing better than us."
Jon said, "Irileth. No wonder you're fantasizing about my steed."
She smiled, "Well?"
Jon politely said, "Sorry, but I'll have to decline." Lydia shifted behind him.
She pouted, "Oh well. Couldn't hurt to ask. Thanks for the help. I doubt any Nord is going to take action against you. You're welcome in the Gray Quarter, for whatever that's worth."
Whiterun was superior, Jon thought as we walked though the city and too the Jarl's keep. Reaching the door, two guards placed their war-axes over the man door. One said, "Halt, who wishes to enter the High-King's court."
Jon removed his hood, almost bringing the guards to their knees. He said, "Jon, of house Noonien-Signh, Thane of Whiterun, Dragonborn."
The guards immediately stood back at attention and let the Dragonborn pass. Just inside were steps to the Jarl's mead hall. Long-tables lined the place, with a grand fire in the middle. Like the Whiterun court, the place was massive and capable of entertaining hundreds, if not a thousand people at once. Jarl Ulfric sat oblong on his throne at the very back, a few steps up from most so he could see over his court at a glance. He was smiling and talking with a couple advisors, one of them with a bear pelt on his head, no doubt a beast he slew himself.
An attendant walked up hesitantly, seeing the truth of Jon's eyes. He bowed deeply and said, "Welcome, Dragonborn. It is an honor for the Palace of Kings to host you. What is your full name and title, so I may announce you to the High-King."
Jon had his hands clasped in front of his navel. He held one up and said, "Please, friend, all should stand equally in my presence. I neither require, nor want, special reverence. I am Jon, of house Noonien-Signh, Thane of Whiterun, Dragonborn."
The man nodded eagerly and led Jon and Lydia though the mostly empty area between the first two long tables and grand fire. As they passed the crowd quieted, and began staring in awe. This is want Jon wanted. He wanted control of the entire room from the moment he stepped into it. He would still never claim godhood, but he used what assets he had.
Ulfric had met his eye and stopped talking half way though the court. By the time the Thane, Housecarl, and announcer got before him, the entire room had came to a hushed quiet. The announcer said, "Now introducing a new guest to the High-King's court! Jon, of house Noonien-Signh, Thane of Whiterun, Dragonborn!"
The whole hall erupted into cheers, and Ulfric had a wicked smile on his face. Jon knew what the first words out of his mouth were going to be. That they would try and force him to pick a side in open court. Ulfric said, "So the Dragonborn makes an appearance at my court. I am honored. Did you perhaps come to Join the Stormcloak cause? So we may reclaim the right to worship our Dragonborn God-Emperor Talos Stormcrown?"
The cheers once again took the hall. Jon smiled, but it was a sympathetic one. He said, "My apologies, Ulfric. But I cannot take sides when the Dragons will vex us all yet. The Worm is my only concern."
There was some disappointing cajoling in he hall. Ulfric held up a light hand. He said, "That is the Dragonborn's prerogative. And you are right Jon, they'll vex us all. We both saw first hand at Helgan what that Worm is capable of."
Jon nodded, establishing a first name basis by brute force like he wanted. Every word created a false sense of security. He would only help this arrogant man for the help he could provide against the dragons. He said, "We did. Whiterun has officially declared war against them. While I am not here on specific Whiterun business, as a Thane of the Hold I wanted to visit on the way through, and see if you had received word of it yet."
Ulfric nodded, "I have. While they are a threat to all, recent deputes have made trust hard to come by. I was still taking counsel on the issue and deciding. Perhaps the Dragonborn and Thane of the Whiterun court will have words for me?"
Jon said, "Just my counsel to Jarl Bulgruuf, that he share information freely as it pertains to defending ourselves from dragons, without preconceptions. He accepted those recommendations. My recommendation to you is that you at least send a small party to his court, so they may share in the knowledge the guard of Whiterun has in dragon-slaying. They are beatable with the right tools. I can't be everywhere at once, and even if I'm not there to take the beast's soul, my people have a concept called mission-kill."
Ulfric nodded thoughtfully, "Yes, we can put them out of action, let you take their power afterwords. You are not the only brave soul in Skyrim, after all. We have the will to fight, we're the Stormcloaks dammit!"
Ulfric let the crowd cheer for a moment before continuing. "But we need the knowledge and tools. We know we can defeat them, we did it once before, and we, will, do, it, again! For Skyrim!"
"For Skyrim!"The crowd cheered.
Ulfric continued, "Jorleif. Send a small party to Whiterun for parlay. Make sure a Drill-Master is with them. Jarl Bulgruuf has my personal guarantee that we will slay any dragons we see in service to his war!"
The crowd kept cheering at the words of their High-King. The man was charismatic, obviously. Now came the last inevitable question. Ulfric most likely had people investigate the man at Helgan with him, and probably already knew the rumors.
Ulfric said, "You are a busy man, Jon, I'm sure, and I thank you for choosing to attend my court and offer me this important counsel. I only have one last question before you continue your journeys. Why is it in my court that you do not hide yourself? Before we saw your dragon eyes, you being the Dragonborn was only unsubstantiated rumor. Whispers."
Jon smiled, the court right where he wanted them, "Because this is the home of Talos fucking Stormcrown, and I need not hide!"
The cheers started again and never stopped. Even if the Dragonborn didn't take their side in the recent disputes, he stood on the side of Talos, and that was enough. Jon gave a polite bow and salute to the pretender king before extricating himself and his Housecarl from the court.
As they were walking back to the Gray Quarter to a possible inn, Lydia said, "You had them eating right out of your hands. Even made Ulfric think he was buddy buddy with the Dragonborn."
Jon smiled, "If it gets me what I want from him. Fuck that guy and this shithole city. Its big, sure, impressive architecture, but my first introduction to his realm was a pogrom almost starting."
Lydia chuckled, "I don't want to know what would have happened if you had walked in to that."
Jon said, "Nothing good. I cant solve every problem, but I don't have to put up with bullshit in front of me."
Just as they were about to enter the Gray Quarter, home to a couple thousand Dunmer, Jon smelled corruption coming from a building they passed. Seeing the Sign on it, it said, Calixto's Curious Curiosities. Jon decided this place was probably harmless, and maybe even a good place to sell some of his hoard for real coin.
He walked it, and the place was full of dust, and ancient artifacts, most the equivalent of junk, lined every shelf in the place. Walking down an isle of book shelves, he came up to the proprietor.
The man said with a wicked smile, "Welcome friend. I'm Calixto Corrium, and this is my museum and shop. Dedicated to all things historical. For a bit of coin I could give you a tour."
Jon didn't like the man, and decided this place wasn't harmless. Just blow the corruption of the tombs his wares came from, there was something fresh. And blood, but only a hint.
Jon was still going to take the man's coin. He said, "I would actually like to sell, if you buy. I've been though a couple tombs. Plenty of weapons and armor, coin and gem too. I didn't pick up the more mundane, unfortunately, as I have to prioritize value on my journeys over historical insight."
Calixto's smile became warm, actually, and less wicked. He said, "Ah, a fellow scholar that understands the importance of all finds equally. I understand. I was only able to amass my collection collection thought specific effort. Adventures and travelers can not be as discerning. I am more than willing to buy, if you sell."
When it was all set and done, Jon took another 30 measure of coin for the ware he sold. He didn't dare ask Lydia for what she had in her pack. They weren't at the point of combing hoards yet. Just as Jon was storing the last of his newly acquired Fourth Age coin, he spotted the blood that we was smelling just underneath everything else. An embalming tool on a shelf behind the proprietor with just a spec of blood, that he could have spotted with his inferior eyes as well, but near most would not have. It was a murder weapon obviously, recently used. Last night.
Calixto did not see his doom approach. All he saw was the friendly smile, but not the eyes, of a fellow scholar. Jon and Lydia walked out of the shop and she said, "I didn't like the look of that man."
Jon said, "He's a serial killer. No doubt. I saw a bit of blood on an embalming tool. Fresh as of last night. He's arrogant if he leaves his implement out like that, possibly even bold meaning he will strike again tonight. With the guard playing army, he probably has the perfect playground in a city this size."
Lydia harshly said, "And you did business with him?"
Jon shot her an offended look, "If by business you mean taking all of his useful coin for unless to me junk, then yes. You know that's your hoard in your pack, right? You need a cut of the loot or its not fair."
Lydia said, "Thanks, Jon. Now please tell me we aren't going to let this stand."
Jon said, "Nope. He's going to die, I haven't decided how. We have to wait until night though, and tail him when he tries to strike, might even be a full stakeout. I also smelled corruption, but fresh."
Lydia said, "Probably recent necromancy. I didn't catch it under all the tomb dust."
As they walked into a Dunmer inn, Jon said, "Just a hint, just like a hint of blood that had me looking for it. Like it was coming from his person. Probably has a lair somewhere. All assholes in fantasy lands have lairs."
Lydia chucked as they sat, "You speak of steel and glass towers as far as the eye can see, men on the moons, and you say this is a fantasy land?"
The sever came and offered them their fill of food, and bit of drink, for reasonable coin. They spend the next couple hours chatting while they waited to stake the killer out. Jon even spied a poster warning people of a butcher in the city nailed to the wall with an iron dagger.
They were heading out of the Gray Quarter to their stakeout when a haggard looking Dunmer called to them with a cough, "Hey, n'wahs. You wanna buy some drugs? Good caravan skooma, none of that red water crank."
Jon politely said, "No, thank you." And he took note of red water crank.
The Dunmer said, "Yeah, alright. Come back if you do, n'wahs."
Jon and Lydia continued up the road towards the 'ground level' of the city. Jon spied and entrance into the wall that overlooked the shop. Heading up the stairs, the finally met a guard that challenged them.
"Halt, you aren't allowed to be be here! Return from whence you came!"
Jon showed the guard his eyes, "Guardsman, I am a Thane of Whiterun, and I am investigating a potential lead on the Butcher. I will admit that I am not doing so in any official capacity."
The guard didn't hesitate, "You are now, Thane. What is the lead, and what do you need."
Jon nodded back down, hiding his eyes. They began up the steps again as he said, "I'm staking out the curiosities shop. I was in earlier and saw a speck of fresh blood with my dragon eyes, last night fresh."
The guard said, "There was another murder last night! And you're going to follow him to catch him in the act, so we have hard proof. I'll send word though the guard not to impede you. We've been after him for months, but never could catch him. Murders have been getting more frequent. Its a large city, easy to get lost in, sometimes sparse in people to witness, hard to track someone from one side to the other."
Jon said, "My suspicion is right then, he's bold. Probably will strike tonight. I'll stay on the bastard if he does. If he doesn't, you'll need to stake your own people out, because I cant stay more than the night. Very quiet ones. Hire a fucking beggar if that's what it takes. I bet they know how to stay out of sight from what I've seen."
The guard said, "You're right, I know just the one too. She said she saw the killer, but only as he rounded past the corner, not a good look at all. All she knew was a male Nord. That's over half of the city!"
Jon got to the top of the wall, and kept low below the battlements. The guard walking with them whispered to another, and then went to whisper more that the Dragonborn had come, and would smite the foul Butcher terrorizing their city.
Jon turned to Lydia and said, "I know your not going to like it, but maybe go back to the inn. You're quiet but not quiet enough in that steel."
"I could take it off." Lydia blushed immediately.
Jon did too under his hood, "Yeah, maybe just go back to the inn. I'm going to track him, then kill him fast before he does it again. I'll be back."
Lydia nodded and took to the inn. Jon waited for a couple hours while gnawing on some provisions. The pemmican that Alyn had given him for free was delicious. He had also went right to work on getting his tomes printed, and had advance copies made, giving him a signed one for free as well. The last line of the last page read 'ancient recipe of the North American Tribes, friends of other woods.' Jon reckoned that the original print would be worth much more than the average tome, but we didn't think of it as something he would preserve well enough to hold it's value. Some things valuable you had to beat the shit out of to make a story from it. Jon didn't know why he cared, everything he touches becomes priceless now, in any state it's in. That flawless Givenstone is literally a religious artifact now. She no doubt thinks it will bring power to her line, and the bad part is that it probably will, because it probably holds real power now. But what was he supposed to do, not give that guardswoman a reward for her quest? That would be a dick move in most cultures, especially this one.
His thoughts were broken bu the opening of a door. Calixto had stepped onto the streets of the thinning crowd, apprising nearly everyone that he passed. He was obviously on the hunt for prey. The game was afoot, and the spell he picked up in the mine was a simple muffle spell that made him even more quiet than he already was. The theories in the tome in the tomb only made it more potent. He could leap across walls and rooftops now, nary a sound even with his weight. His Elven cloak even silently billowed in the wind of the rapidly rising night.
Jon could smell his target from a mile away, now that he new what he was looking for. The fresh corruption left a potent trail for him to follow, so the murderer suspected no folly as Jon hopped from roof to roof a street or two behind him. The guard was right, it would be hard to track if one couldn't do what the Augment turned Dovah could do. The streets were tight, irregular, rising as high as four stories, like the city was built over time on demand when it was built. Simply slapped together, with the work continuing as some sort of jobs program until they had filled the massive walls to the brim. The architect was astonishing with somewhat standardized building layouts, the work crews did their duties, but the city planner needed shot. Or it was intentional for city defense. You don't call a city the City of Kings without someone trying to conquer it, and these streets would be a nightmare for an invading force, or a guard trying to track a murderer.
Jon was near on top of him now. The alley leading away from the market was tight, but long, and the woman walking down it had no clue of her approaching doom. Neither did her stalker. The man was one of those preternaturally talented as stealth, Jon decided. The only reason Jon was doing what he was doing was because of a cast, and a nose as good as a Khajiit, he reckoned. He would certainly not have tracked the man by smell from the streets, nor been able to leap roofs as quietly.
Calixto has his implement out, creeping behind the meandering woman. It was nothing for Jon to land down behind him, and snap his neck, killing the Butcher of Windhelm, no Batman was he, he thought. Murders caught in the act die in a just system.
The woman snapped around at the bone breaking snap, and before she could scream Jon's honeyed words said, "Ma'am, I'm a thane of Whiterun, you can see the embalming tool he had in his hand. He was the Butcher, you were his next victim."
She paled, "Th-Thank the Divines. Bless you, Bless you. I didn't hear him at all. He-he would ha-. Bless you, Thane." and she nearly fell into a hysterical fit of crying.
A guard heard the commotion and rushed over, getting word of the Dragonborn in robed tracking the Butcher before hand, and now seeing the bastard dead at the man's feet. Jon gave him a nod and thumbs up to let him do his work while he moved on back to the inn. He was now thrice blessed, and didn't want to think of the power on his tongue.
He got back to the Inn, and Lydia had already gotten their room. When he entered, her armor was put off to the side, and so where her undergarments, a new development in their relationship. Yhe room already smelled of self-pleasure. Jon removed his clothing as well while crawling in beside her, accepting her tight embrace.
She was lying into his chest, Jon's hand slowly tracing up and down her spine. Her thigh was slowly rubbing him up and down, in time with his hand. Eventuality her hand found it's way there, and her mouth to his. Lydia's warmth mounted Jon's steed not long after his other hand beckoned it with strong fingers.
He said one thrice blessed word into her ear that night. A whisper leaking with Thu'um as her back began to arch. He said, "Lydia."
His blessing would enter her mouth when she was done spasming in ecstasy. Jon would twitch in his own as he gave it.