Fredas 25th of Frostfall 4E201 Evening

Delphine

"I've figured out how we're going to get you into the Thalmor Embassy."

He nods, looking over the numerous papers strewn about my desk. It had only been a month and a half since I'd last seen him, but I almost didn't recognize Talao when he walked back into the Sleeping Giant. It puzzled me for a moment once I did; he looked the same as last I saw him, fair face, windswept hair a bit longer than before, favoring his unimpaired leg, and still wearing his well-worn and well-fit clothes. I started to get an idea when I noticed he'd only said a few muttered greetings as I left Orgnar at the bar and led him to my safe room; conviction, I decided to call the difference. It wasn't confidence - Y'ffre knows he had plenty of that to go around - it was that he was more centered than before. His energy used to tend to get thrown about him, effective but sometimes troublesome, but now it was held within him, focused, intent. It gives me the impression of a panther on the hunt. Which is good; he'll need that in the pit of vipers I'm about to throw him into.

Although, I could use a little of the old Talao about now. "The Greybeards didn't render you mute, did they? You'll be needing your unique brand of brassiness to gatecrash the Thalmor party."

He laughs, finally, a short barking laugh that seems just as centered as the rest of him, as if he wouldn't or couldn't waste any part of his breath. "No, nothing like that, Delphine. In fact, I have explicit approval to shout and Shout as much as I like. But learning the truth of what I am and what I can do has simply made me more… aware of how strong those abilities are. So I suppose you could say I've elected to be more frugal with my speech, and likewise with my Speech." In a thinker's pose, head tilted, fist upon his chin, he says, "Or maybe I've forgotten what it's like to not be in the presence of a group of old men who literally never speak. Something you have in common when you're being stubborn, come to think of it."

Never-mind, definitely the same Dragonborn I left in Kynesgrove. "I think your silver tongue has some tarnish, Talao. The only way you could have insulted me more would be comparing me to the Thalmor. Don't," I cut him off mid-word, before he says something I'd have to hurt him for.

"Killjoy. Now, what's this about a party?"

"Exactly what you'd imagine from a Thalmor affair, I'd wager. Ambassador Elenwen regularly throws parties where the rich and connected cozy up to the Thalmor. And I've managed to secure you an invitation."

That gets his attention. "How many favors did you have to call in for that? No doubt the Thalmor would see through any forgeries."

"More than a few. I knew a fake invitation wouldn't pass muster; Elenwen usually thoroughly vets her guest list to avoid any conflicts of interest and personality. I debated… convincing another guest to volunteer their own invitation, but that could have brought you under enough suspicion for them to look too closely into your past, and find your name on the Imperial lists of who was at Helgen." It was unlikely, but still possible; I'd never known the Thalmor to cut corners on security, and it just seemed like an unnecessary risk. "In the end, I wound up spreading stories of a bard wandering Skyrim with a voice of honey, lyrics of gold, and a particular disdain for 'Stormcloak revisionist history,' who would love to perform in Alinor someday. You'd be surprised how easy it is to get word around in Skyrim, even information that nobody should have any reason to know. It took a few weeks, but the Embassy eventually sent an invitation to the Dead Man's Drink in Falkreath, where it was 'rumoured' the bard stayed, and I intercepted it."

There's a silence for a moment. "So, to wit, you invented an entire person out of thin air, whole-cloth, spread so many rumours about them that people believed he was real, including the most paranoid intelligence group on Mundus, and now you want me to attend a party with the most influential individuals in the province, perform and distract them, the infiltrate the rest of the Embassy for information that could possibly save the world?"

"I have been doing this a long time, remember?"

"…Delphine, I forgive you for everything that happened on the way to Kynesgrove, apologize for any shortcomings of my own, and declare my undying love for you. If I had an Amulet of Mara right now-"

"Alright, easy, Dragonborn. I don't mix duty and pleasure; even if I weren't old enough to be your mother." I still grin at his antics, even as he mutters something under his breath about having a young face. "You'll be going alone, but I do have a contact inside the embassy."

"Trustworthy, I assume? Why doesn't he raid Elenwen's office himself?"

Joking aside, he begins raiding my alchemy stores. "Malborn doesn't exactly have the skills or stomach for a job like this. Besides, it's more important for him to maintain his cover exactly for situations like this." I grab his hand just before he lights the alchemy burner in the corner. "You aren't going to burn down my tavern, right?"

"Oh, no! Alchemy is one of the few things I have some talent in beyond my bardy-ness. Potions to soothe an aching throat or ease your exhaustion for a long day or long night performing. I wound up picking up a few more tricks along the way, too." The flame begins heating the solvent, and his delicate hands begin grinding some Frost Mirriam into a mortar and pestle. "Malborn… Bosmeri name, no?"

"Yeah." I make sure I sit close enough to Talao in case he does make something explode by accident. "The Thalmor wiped out his family back in Valenwood during one of their purges that we never hear about. Luckily they don't know who he really is, or he wouldn't be serving drinks at the Ambassador's parties. Not that the Thalmor trust anyone that isn't also Thalmor, of course. Though maybe even assuming they trust other Thalmor is too generous." I glance his way as he steeps the powdered frost mirriam and begins to work on some purple mountain flower, wondering what it is he's concocting. "You can act the part of a Thalmor toady, right?"

He scoffs. "Surely, you jest, Delphine. I learned how to flatter in High Rock before I could even form full sentences. Rest assured knowing the Ambassador will find herself thoroughly charmed before the night is out. Figuratively speaking of course." He pops a cork into the full potion bottle, immediately grabbing different ingredients - valerian and bleeding crown - to start another. "How fares the rest of Skyrim in my absence? The Greybeards don't exactly have a periodical delivered."

"What, you think I know every rumour in Skyrim because I masquerade as an innkeeper?"

He gives me a sidelong look, hands never faltering in their work. "No, I think you know every rumour in Skyrim because you're a paranoid Blade who obsessively keeps track of everything in the province."

Fair enough. "Let's see… A lot of local complaints about an early winter, ruined crops, bad livestock births. Could be nothing, could be something, but not much I could verify. The Burning of King Olaf happened as scheduled in Solitude, though there was a fair bit of controversy given the murder of High King Torygg. The College of Winterhold unearthed something big in Saarthal, apparently; I keep tabs on them because they have a Thalmor ambassador of their own, Ancano. He's small fry, but I'd be worried about him worming his fingers into whatever magical headache they've gotten themselves into now. And the Stormcloaks and the Legion are still trading skirmishes with little to no change in the lines of engagement - though I do hear the 'Cloaks had a big victory in Korvanjund a few weeks back. Ulfric has a new hat, so I hear, made of dragon bones. We'll see if he's inspired to make any big moves after that."

"And the dragons?" Another potion bottled, and a third begun. Mica and dragon's tongue with… dwarven oil, I think, though this one seems to be a paste rather than a potion.

"There are still attacks here and there, but they seem to have plateaued. Most of them seem to be making roost in out of the way places; old mountain peaks, abandoned ruins and outposts, things like that. A few of the bastards have been taken down by guards or concerted adventurer attacks, but more than once a town has claimed to see the same dragon they just killed out somewhere else after a few days. Barring the ones you took care of, naturally. There's even a few scattered stories just begun to pass through of dragon sightings in Cyrodiil, Morrowind, even one report out of Elsweyr."

"I suppose that tracks. Dragons used to be found in every corner of Tamriel, not just Skyrim. Stendarr forbid we wind up with Yokudan or Akiviri dragons too."

"I'm just saying, Talao, nobody's making any headway into the crisis without your aid. I really hope that month you spent with the Greybeards cleared up your reservations."

With a heavy sigh, he extinguishes the alchemy flame, facing me with a third bottle in hand. "It has, Delphine. I'm no Talos or Wulfharth, at least not yet, but I know so much more. Enough to not be helpless anymore. I'm certain enough that I won't be magically turning into some kind of gestalt dragon-Breton soul-personality-being, or so emotionally volatile that I Shout an annoying courier into paste, but for every reservation the Greybeards answered, I feel like I found another. But that's why I'm out here and not up there. I've read all I can read, meditated until my knees rubbed raw, and now I have to find the rest of the answers out here myself. I promise you that I will have Words with the next dragon we come across. Until then," he places his potions in his satchel, and we start to leave the safe room, "when is the next Thalmor party?"

"First of Sun's Dusk, one week from today; she holds them on the first Fredas of every month. I don't know how much time we have with this whole dragon crisis before something drastic happens, so it's important you don't miss that party. Thankfully, we should have enough time to reach Solitude and prepare; about four to five days from Riverwood to Solitude gives us one or two in town, maybe you give a surprise performance to sell your existence to all the spies in the city so the Thalmor know your coming. The day of, find Malborn in the Winking Skeever; you know the place?"

"Do I ever! I think they dedicated one of the bar-stools to me."

Not gonna take that bait. "He'll sneak in any contraband you need past security; don't expect the Thalmor to let anything in that isn't your clothes and your instrument. So make sure it's enough."

He grins widely as I close the hidden door behind us. "All I really need is my voice, Delphine; the rest is just for show."

"I almost wish I could be there to see the performance. I've chartered a carriage for our trip to Solitude that will arrive in the morning. You can take the 'attic' room for tonight. And Talao?" He stops just before leaving my room. Maybe it doesn't need to be said, but I'd rather there be no misunderstandings. "Don't let the Thalmor get you. Fate of the world aside, they will not be kind to you. Or Malborn. Or me, for that matter. Be careful."

A/N: 10 points if anyone can guess what Talao is brewing to help the Thalmor infiltration. The guesses as to the mystery individual in the Ralof Interlude were interesting, though there was one I assumed people would guess and nobody did. Not saying if any of them were right or wrong, but I look forward to everyone's ideas.