Fredas 22rd of Last Seed 4E201 Late Evening

Uthgerd the Unbroken

I'd never seen The Bannered Mare as wild as now. At least not in my time, that I can remember. So many people packed in tighter than a skeever den, shouting and cheering. Hulda and Saadia were busier than ever, but even still, they joined the celebrations as much as the rest, somehow. Whiterun had slain a dragon. Every man and woman had been recognized, even myself. I thought the parade of well-wishers - the same that had only last week openly despised me - would never end.

Of course, it hadn't lasted.

Because as more people heard the full story, their gazes moved toward one man in particular, and they excused themselves to go speak to someone more interesting than the woman who'd climbed atop a dragon, killed it, and lived to tell the tale. And that's how I wound up nursing a drink alone at my usual table while the crowd bustled around Talao, the Dragonborn.

Dragonborn. Pfah. Even now, hours later, the thought seems absurd. Every Nord knows the stories of the Ancient Dragonborn, even before Talos had been called to the Throat of the World. They were all that we aspired to be; proud warriors of great strength, fighting insurmountable battles and overcoming the odds to stand atop the corpses of their enemies.

And I'm to expect this... Waif of a man is the inheritor of the legacy of my people? The man who prefers a lute to a blade, who lives his life in robes rather than armor? That he who raised no hand in battle against a dragon now possesses the soul of that beast?

Ridiculous.

And as if that weren't enough, the bastard had all but stolen the glory of the day for himself. I had seen it, seen the dragon tense, seconds from taking flight, and how everyone had cowered before it. Only my courage had kept it from running to lick its wounds and continue its reign of terror elsewhere. I charged forth and crippled the beast and struck it low. And then Talao had walked forward, stealing its soul and the credit. Balgruuf had barely spared me a single glance when we'd returned, his focus solely on the legend in his midst, the call of the Greybeards of far more concern than the savior of the entire city, his reward to me a seeming afterthought, whatever his words might have been. Gods above did it anger me

Saadia walks by, pouring me another drink without asking. Good. Didn't feel like asking, but I needed another.

At least the Companions had had the grace to give me my due. A messenger had brought me before Joorvaskr, where Kodlak and his compatriots had congratulated me on my deed. I had performed a feat worthy of Ysgramor himself, they said, and invited me to join their ranks, apologizing for the ordeal they had put me through before. Invited me, not as a novice, but as a fully-fledged member, mere steps from the Inner Circle itself. A tremendous honor; one which I accepted immediately.

But...

And their faces had fallen, and I had basked in their dismay of thinking perhaps the first dragonslayer of the Fourth Era might not join their famed company - which would do as much for their reputation as mine - and I said that I must first accompany Talao to the doors of High Hrothgar as repayment for his help in elevating me to my position. Because...

I look over at Talao, surrounded by admirers, men and women, strumming on a lute and singing a tale he named "The Break of Dawn," The story of a man and a Daedric Prince, and an artifact of great power.

"Midst the prizes, a pearly orb,

Gleaming and glimm'ring 'spite the gloom.

Radiance ablaze in Celann's eyes,

His hand descends to claim his haul."

Because, as much as I despise the face that a Breton bard of no martial prowess of any kind might have inherited a title of legend and power that most could only dream of, that Talao himself was not to blame. He had not forced Akatosh to bless him, had not conspired with the gods to be at the destruction of Helgen, nor known that joining us at the watchtower would draw the attention of every man and mer in the province.

"Guide my lucence through the temple

Lay open the central sanctum."

Eager, Celann accepts this charge,

Promise of power and glory lured."

No. He was merely a man who had been caught up by fate, who dove willingly into danger, saving my life many times, and the lives of all those in this city, despite not being able to truly protect himself. Whatever destiny had been set before him, one could not force a man to be so selfless and inspiring as Talao.

"Fatigue forgot, Celann steps forth,

and claims the blinding daedric blade.

Light engulfs the shrine once again,

The shroud of darkness now lifted."

And so I told Kodlak and the Companions that I must needs delay their honor until I properly thanked the man who had unknowingly helped me to deserve it. And Kodlak smiled, said he understood and that I had proved further that I deserved a place among them. That they would expect me before the next week's end and that they would celebrate with the proper ceremony, and a feast that would put the Jarl himself to shame.

"Before the statue, once again,

Celann stood in awe, triumphant.

Dawnbreaker in hand, purpose clear,

To purge all undead from this land."

Applause as Talao finishes and bows. I do not join in, because despite knowing he is not at fault, the day's events still annoy me. But mead... Ahhh, mead has never betrayed me.

"Not drinking too much, I hope."

I raise my brow at Talao, who's somehow managed to shake his admirers. "Hmph. You know perfectly well I could drink you under the table without a second thought."

"You could at that. So long as you aren't drowning your sorrows as last time."

"Maybe I am. You're certainly having enough fun for us both." Which was true enough, if the color in his cheeks was any sign.

He chuckles, falling heavily into the chair beside me. "Aye. They certainly enjoyed my tale enough."

"You have talent, I'll admit. Far more than that two-septim Mikael. Care he doesn't take offense to you stealing his admirers away. Especially Carlotta."

"Ah... I think Heimskr would have more chance of that than Mikael." We both laugh at that. Hulda walks by, refilling our drinks, a rare smile on her face. "Though tonight I find myself desiring a bit of solitude."

"Is that so? I assumed you'd be... In your element, enjoying your fame and success." Well, that came out a bit harsher than I'd thought. So perhaps I'm still a bit bitter.

To this, he merely shrugs. "What exactly did I do? Get lucky, be in the right place at the right time?"

"Are you less deserving of honor because of that?" I retort. "The hero in your story was given opportunity by chance, even thought it was at a Daedra's hand. You have been blessed by Akatosh himself."

"Aye, but he had the skills to take advantage of his fortune. He earned his reward; it did not drop out of the sky 'ere he completed his task. I? I have done nothing.

"Nothing?" I ask, amazed. "Leading half of Helgen to safety? Helping the guards of Whiterun with your knowledge, keeping them from death? Do you not think these deeds worthy of reward? Or, perhaps your gift is the opportunity, and your reward is further away."

"Nonsense. I follow heroes, and sing lays of their exploits not... Participate in them myself! I'm a bard, not an adventurer."

"Whatever you say. I say the gods gave you this gift for some unknown reason, and you ignore at your own peril. Oooohh..."

Talao glares, as I wiggle my fingers at him threateningly. "You certainly didn't act this way last time you were drunk."

"I'm not nearly as drunk as I was that time either. Now go," I shove him lightly, "enjoy the night while you can. I doubt your time with the Greybeards will be nearly as fun."

"I suppose you have a point there. May as well get in my fair share before spending weeks away from civilization."

"That's more like it." I watch him go off, happily. And, perhaps with enough ale, I can convince myself that pang of jealousy doesn't exist. "Hulda!