Chapter 26: Solitude

Jon was encountering a problem on his quest for word walls. Meridia's Shrine had one just North of it, still in view. It was a word for Elemental Fury. It would make his swings even faster than his already considerable speed and reactions could carry them. With a dragon bone sword he imagined he could cut though almost anything. Being able to double or triple the swing speed, becoming velocity with a vector at the point of impact? With the force he could already apply? Combined with being able to turn the blade white hot with his own power though the flaming soul trap? He was a Jedi with a light-saber. A light-saber activated and used in the most Jedi way possible. The force, Luke.

He couldn't help his snicker. It was the only thing keeping his mind off the problem. He couldn't use this shout, because the it was the last word. The only time he got lucky was in Shroud hearth. Saarthal was forward planning, no part his own, and Bleak-Falls may have been pure fate. He needed to complete these shouts. Maybe just the one word would be enough to convince them he can just learn the rest from them. This would be in addition to making his Lady a Tongue. The battle would be tricky. He may even have to lean on knowing what he's guessed, but he didn't want to resort to that. Hopefully the threat of the Worm was enough.

If Jon was lucky, he was reviving a dragon every so often. Then retreating to Sovngarde to gather power, leaving his forces essentially uncommanded with perhaps general orders. Burn, pillage, kill the Dovahkiin. Jon's forces were very much in command. The command of Jarl Bulgruuf the Greater, and Jon hoped he didn't cause too much of a shit storm for the man.

What was he even thinking. You don't call yourself the Greater without being Great. It was a lifetime of glory, on just the declaration of war against their ancient enemy. It would be a burden, but the Jarl would carry it for his people.

Jon had half a mind Tullius would be fully supporting the effort, especially in coin. Let the Jarl do the legwork while the General reinforces his position against dragons, and renewed Stormcloak attacks after they're gone. Ulfric doing the same. All were lucky that threat was so fucking stupid, and the only real worry was the Worm detonating like a cosmic atom bomb on Mundus.

A roar interrupted his internal musing, once again. Jon had simply given in to his new nature some time ago. He now had the attitude of a man with time to observe and ponder things, much more than he even had previously. He was still always wary, never being incautious, but he was not in a constant survival state like he was before. A state where death, his and others, was the only thing he thought of. The end result of his new nature was being offended at the interruption of his musings with conversation, battle, he didn't ask for.

The Roar came from North-West, more West than North, of the mountain range that made the North-West coastline of Skyrim. Of course the dragon most likely heard the wall touched by a Dovahkiin. He had only ever seen dragons attack alone. Maybe there was some social thing, Jon thought. They were solitary creatures, only speaking together when necessary. Giving or taking orders, battle between them. If they were smart, they would fly in wings of four, coordinate their attacks and cover each other. This was battle doctrine befitting a man trained for war, however, not doctrine befitting terrorist demi-gods.

Signal scrolls went up at watchtowers not that far away, Jon saw. He heard not crying from the city below him at the foot of the mountain, but pure and logical preparation. Even the civilians knew exactly what they were doing, where they were going. Solitude stood firm. One dragon wouldn't be a threat to them anyway, with as much firepower they could muster. With the thousands of legionaries, and a city that would be completely non hostile to magic and wizards among their rank, it would be a slaughter. Unless they figured out basic coordination. Attacked from all sides at once. Tullius already planned for that, Jon knew.

The roar got close enough to open informal conversation after a couple minutes of flight, and Jon gave his reply, the ground quaking in response, "DREM UV KEIN HIN MIIRAAD FUS RO DAH"

The dragon heard the ground quake in the wake of the Dovahkiin and his Thu'um, saw the unrelenting force being causally cast towards him. The Dovahkiin rivaled the Dovahdrog in power.

His only actual order upon being wakened was to char the Dovahkiin's corpse, if found. It was obvious that was only to cause distraction, so the Dovahdrog could advance his own schemes, not bring back the glory of their rule. There were faint whispers of one that ran, and what happened to them when they heeded the Dovahkiin's words, by right no less. Simple words, a message, the Dovah by right had to deliver! He would not die against the Dovahkiin like the others, not before at least pondering the quandary more, considering his loyalty. He only hopped that he did not give words to heed, so the same fate did not befall him.

"DREM DOVAHKIIN" And the dragon turned away, back to his perch. Thank Akatosh, the Father, that the Dovahkiin left it at that.

Another signal went up from the same tower, obviously denoting that the Dragon was retreating. The city didn't need to see it. All of Solitude heard the Dovahkiin's call. A little more than Solitude as well. More than one Dovah heard the offer, impossible for them not too even some distance away. The celebratory cheers took though the streets of the city below, and it would not be a party Jon would be joining. He hoped they didn't send anyone up here. It would probably not be the best look, coming out of a Daedric shrine.

Jon and Lydia took back down the hill towards the shrine. This particular stretch of the mountainside was heavily wooded, so it provided plenty of cover from any Imperial advance elements quick on the ball. They encountered no one else as they came up to Meridia's place of power in Skyrim.

There was a squat building though the trees. It was hugged up against a sturdy outcropping in the mountain, and it was obvious the place was only an entrance for a crypt. On the roof of the building was Meridia's statue. It stood fifteen feet high, and depicted a robed angel of light. Her robes were just as loose as on Azurah, her body just as defined, but she was definitely leaving a little more to the imagination. At her back were two mighty wings, set ready to flair out at a moments notice. Below her two guiding hands was an alter, an offering place for the beacon held in his pack.

He grabbed hold of it, and forced his will against hers. He didn't let her get a word it, "Did you hear me, Meridia? The nature of our relationship has changed."

She spoke softly, "Yes, I heard you, Storm's-Lord."

Jon nodded slowly, releasing some of his mental grip on her. He said, "Good. I'm glad I don't have to explain myself again. I'm only here because I gave my word, and the only reason I do not pursue you with war is because Sam vouched for you. Now, Meridia. Can you tell my what would have my scales rattled so, when it comes to you specifically?"

She again spoke softly, barley a whisper though the beacon, "I will have a softer hand, I promise, Storm's-Lord."

Jon smiled. She was truly terrified of him. He guessed an intelligent Prince would be when they stand the risk of having their souls literally eaten. He said, "Excellent. I'm glad we could resolve this. If I ever stop by and find your followers fucking lobotomized like you tried to do to me, I will consider the matter unresolved. Now, what do I have to do here?"

She curtly replied, "Simply place the beacon on the alter, and begin to clear the necromancy from my shine. As you go, you will need to guide my light toward the focus point. When you do, all traces of the wickedness will be purged by my energy."

Jon said, "Then that's what I'll do. Lydia, you ready?"

X

She smiled as she donned her helmet, and began casting her support spells. Jon returned it before returning the beacon. A ray of light shot up into the sky, and Meridia once again returned to her shrine.

"IT IS TIME FOR MY SPLENDOR TO RETURN TO SKYRIM!" Meridia cried, putting on a show for the vile mage invading her holy place.

"BUT THE TOKEN OF MY TRUTH LIES BURRED IN RUIN, THAT OF MY GREAT TEMPLE! TAINTED! TAINTED BY PROFANE DARKNESS!" Jon huffed a couple times at the gaudiness of her probably normal demeanor. He would beat the others into plainness with their speech if he had too.

"HEAR ME MALKORAN. YOU WILL DEFILE MY SHRINE NO LONGER. YOU WILL BE BROUGHT TO LIGHT!"

Jon and Lydia heard the door unlatch from the top of the shrine. A quick hop down and they were directly in front of the now unsealed door. Lydia didn't hesitate to take the front with her heavy plate, and open the door for her sword before he had the chance. She peaked inside and saw no enemies at the entrance. They slowly stepped in, and proceeded though the dungeon.

In the interest of time, they of course killed the necromancer, took the sword, and Jon looted every desecrated corpse he could on the way past. Many soldiers from both sides with their pay still in their pockets. The imperials had more always, but both sides added up to almost twenty measure of Septims. With that block skipped, the story could continue.

Jon and Lydia exited Meridia's shrine with nary a word to her, or each other. Lydia didn't like the amount of corpses her divine sword picked though for their coin, soldiers no less, but she understood. Now as a blessed demi-goddess, she understood her sword more every day, and the hoard in her own pack was beginning to weigh. Not much, but starting too. She saw treasure as a necessity as well, and knew it could only be because of the dragon blood in her. They would need that vault, or she would have to trust the banks for at least some of it. Like her sword does in all honesty.

They smelled the intruder on their personal thoughts before they saw them. Then they saw him as he casually stood among the mountain trees, arriving about the time they exited. A squat Orsimer man in wizard robes, but not quite.

"Vigil of Stendarr." Lydia whispered so low only Jon could hear.

The Vigil was at a low ready stance. Not aggressive, but ready to act in less than a moment. Over top his robe was a harness like any other but decorated heavily with charms to various deities, both divines and not, but never Daedra no matter who is people were patroned by. There was even one for Talos in a more hidden place, away from Thalmor eyes.

Jon opened the battle by lifting his hood and meeting the Vigil's eyes. Lydia had her helmet still on, and wasn't hiding her own cold stare. Jon said, "Tell me friend. Do you want to push this issue? I don't."

Now he was in it, the Vigil thought. Not even a blood rage could get him out. He was only investigating because he saw the light poke up from the hidden shrine he already knew the location of, the shouting from near there. He was in the area and had a duty to check it out, even if unofficially they leave Meridia alone. They had no lack of enemies, and didn't need more from a Prince they unofficially agreed with in matters of the undead. Just his mammoth shit luck the Dragonborn(s) were the ones that forced the investigation. Just his mammoth shit luck that there were apparently two Dragonborn.

Really, two? It made no sense. Not together, the same time and place. Akatosh wouldn't do that. Why were their eyes so different...

"No." He did not want to push the issue with the second coming of Talos, and maybe his personally blessed shield maiden. The histories of the Dragonborn didn't describe eyes like his. Like his shield's, yes, dragon pupils, but not full dragon eyes like his.

He read up on the Dragons and Dragonborn when he got word they were back, and they were offing each other. Just because the order focused on Daedra didn't mean they ignored Divine threats as well, even if no one wanted to officially or unofficially acknowledge that of the Divines could Be a threat. They were fools, and he was not. So he turned and went back to the trees, paying the shrine and it's liberators no mind. Why the fuck Talos came back as a Redguard, he didn't know. He didn't want to know.

Jon chuckled some and so did Lydia. She said, "With but words you could win wars, my Thane."

"Every word Is a war, Lady Housecarl." He replied as he put his eyes back down under his hood.

He whistled and a couple moments later their steeds came from the trees, ready to carry them the rest of the way to Solitude. They trotted down the mountain path at an easy pace, and Jon was happy to get the mountain chill off him. It was still North Skyrim, but at least the city itself was at a more temperate elevation.

A few travelers were passing by as Jon and Lydia kept their respectful pace on the right side of the Imperial road, well maintained with even it's marker posts polished to a sheen. The fact he saw Imperial Legionaries shoveling the shit, and making patches to the cobblestone and gravel where worn told him much about Tullius. The man was a professional that prioritized his logistics. It also told him much about his bank balance. Military contracts were always lucrative.

"Ohh, Ullo mi Tane!"

It was the driver from the towers originally. They were a bit off but the man had sharp eyes, good for driving around. Jon said, "Hail driver! I see you got to Solitude!"

"Ayy! anna gonna rih bak teh Riften!" They got a little closer and he lowered his voice, "Impia keppe cleer tah Whirun, and Stormmies tak ah tah ress ova wah. Jus tat ben tat wah oh problm. Ble-"

The were about to pass and Jon shot up a finger and gave him a warning of a look from under his hood. The driver shot his eyes up when he realized, "Ohhhaa yah donna ned tat on yah, HA! Sorry mi Tane."

"Quite alright, driver. Save travels sir!" He said as the passing was done and distance was between.

the driver threw up his hand as he quickly turned his eyes back to the road after passing the Thane. "Ayya! Ye tah! Gooda day tah ya mi Tane, Ladeh!"

Lydia had her hood back on, but gave the driver a nod and a smile as they passed. She was a little further behind her sword, just out of good tactical sense. Watching someones Divine rear was not being up it. She wondered if he was divining her thoughts, and then realized unfortunately the wind was blowing in the wrong way, at least for him. For her however it was the perfect direction, at least until it was spoiled by something else.

Jon slowed up some, taking in the same scents. There was a path off from the main road that lead up another mountain outcropping in the Eastern ranges. Just on the wind he caught the odor of Altmer, now well familiar with it. The Thalmor must have had some kind of base of operations up there, perhaps their Skyrim headquarters. That was not his immediate concern however. It was finding a stable for his steed.

The impeccable signage on the road led him true. There was a farm off another turn before entering the city proper. That Imperial road went to the solitude dock, and along it sat the entrance to Katla's Farm. It was tucked into a wide open area, a plateau in the cliffs around, and what little 'farm' there was covered only a small fraction of the space. Mostly food for the proprietors and their hands, alchemal ingredients for cooking the harvest. The bulk of their business was horse stabling, with room for hundreds or even thousands behind the main house and 'farm.'

Jon payed handsomely for the privilege, and both Valkyrie and Freya were happily lead into the throng of hussies and dolts they would assuredly show up. They each gave snorts at the 'noble' steeds as they continued their fancy Gait. Whiterun stock was all that were fit for gods. Never some unsturdy and sickly looking southern breed lowly mortals preferred. Jon and Lydia had walked back up the hill some to the main road, and took a quick vantage to target where their steeds would be stabled in case that knowledge came in handy. Perhaps they would slip out in the night with none the wiser, though Jon didn't know.

One thing he liked about the walk up to the first main gate was that it made all equal. If it didn't, there wouldn't have been nobles treading the same path, all with personal escorts. They walked next to, and some even talked too the commoner or petty traveler. With horses on either side of the gate, it was clear they didn't even allow horses except for guards and such, perhaps other important people like the Jarl and their family. It was interesting to Jon that legionaries were manning the horses and posts on the wall, and not Solitude guardsmen. That made him wonder about the local politics, and it only added more credence to his target of the Blue Palace.

That was of course the entire way thought the city, so while they took in the sights and smells of the crowded main street they kept moving though the next two main Gates before coming to the final one. It was actually closed, with only a man door to enter and exit from. Other than the first Gate, it was probably the only one that Tullius Could keep closed. Closing the others would significantly hamper inter city trade and movement, which would cause economic ruin for half a million people. More and more he learned of the man.

"Halt wizard. State your business before entering the Blue Quarter." One of the guardsman said, an actual guard of Solitude and not an Imperial.

It was obvious the wealthier part of town would have tighter security and more coverage. That was just how things worked anywhere. Jon easily replied, "I intend to attend court guardsman. I am a Thane of Whiterun, and the Arch-Mage of Winterhold you see."

"Ah, I heard about a Thane in robes from Whiterun, and you look the part of an Arch-Mage. Certainly welcome in Queen Elisif's court. You may pass...uh…" The guard was at a loss for what title to use, and titled his signature helmet some to think on if for a quick moment.

Jon now quickly replied, "Just Thane is fine. I have two of those, only one of Arch-Mage."

The guard began a small chuckle and nodded, "Very well, Thane. You may enter."

Jon smiled and passed though with Lydia into the Blue District's market area. There was of course and execution taking place just inside the gate. Only a small crowed was gathered, among them a child pleading for her uncle. The uncle stood firm on the platform, no regret in his stance or face.

"There was no murder! Ulfric challenged Torygg! It was fair combat! Such is the ancient custom of Skyrim, and all Nords!" Roggvir cried as his last words.

That was all he would say to the crowd's booing. The guardsman grabbed him to put him on the block. Jon whispered, "I disagree that is was fair combat, but your soul will go to Sovngarde, that much I know. I don't need to watch this."

He turned, and Lydia was closer to him in the city than she was on the road. She lightly grabbed his arm to give support. He glanced back from under his hood to acknowledge it, and she let go of her grip as he continued on.

He just heard the squelch and clatter of the axe chopping though. His eyes twitched, and he closed them while taking a deep breath to center himself. He thanked the Divines for his hood.

"JON!?" He heard from a familiar voice.

He snapped his head to the direction, and saw then a familiar face now wildly waving with a bright smile on it as well. Jon smiled and made for it, then returning the clasped arm with a sturdy shake.

"Hadvar, my friend. You look well. With new armor to boot."

Hadvar was wearing steel over a sturdy quilted coat and pants. There was a cuirass, pauldrons, and stiff leather bracers around the hands with small elbow plates above them. On his thighs were plates around them, and his shins with small plates on his knees as well. The theme was in imperial red, naturally, with an officers cloak flung over one shoulder, and finally a full face helmet hanging from his harness belt opposite his imperial steel.

"Aye. New standard issue we're testing from the Consortium. What do you think?"

"Decent protection without being overboard." Jon said honestly.

"No true heavy steel though." Lydia added.

Hadvar smiled, "Lydia, I didn't recognize you with the hood. You turn into a wizard all of a sudden?"

"Battle mage." She smirked back, her eyes still hidden.

"With armor like that, dragon scale, battle is right. We're callin this medium armor. More protection than old light stuff, but we can still stay quick on our feet. A true answer to Thalmor plate, if not as good. So far no problems."

"You know what they say about knights and shinning armor."

"Aye. It means they're untested. Still haven't done anything major though, so we'll see. What brings you two to Solitude?"

"Stopping by court, because my station just allows me to do that."

Hadvar chuckled some, then he leaned in for a more quiet conversation, "Aye. Heard some things about a dragon slaying thane in robes. Maybe stop by Castle Dour and speak with the General. Not trying to recruit you, but I think it would be good if he knew where we stood, wherever we stand. He puts on a good show, but he's been tearin himself up about trying to take your head."

"His armies stand a good chance of being shouted to pieces."

"That's about the measure of it, Jon."

"They won't, so long as he doesn't move against me or get in my way. No Imperial assassins have come after me yet, so I don't think it's an issue. I'll stop by for a chat. Don't know exactly when. I'm hungry and tired too."

Relief was etched across Hadvar's face as he nodded and let our a breath. He said, "Well, I wont keep you then. Good day Jon, Lydia. Maybe we'll see each other soon. Castle Dour is the big one nearby. You've probably already seen it."

Jon latched arms with him again, and Hadvar made way for his own tasks. Before Jon began to navigate the bustling market street Lydia spoke up, "Jon, I uh, don't want to attend court, in Solitude, covered in road dust and in my armor."

"Okay, we can stop at in in to change robes, oh, you want real clothes."

"Yes Jon. I am a Lady after all, and Ladies need clothes."

Jon snorted, then eyed around and spotted his target with his dragon eyes. There was a child beggar plying her trade from a barrel in front of a shop. Her clothes were fine, probably donated by a wealthy family, but well worn and she personally was dirty. Didn't seem like a scam to him. She would know where he needed to go.

He walked up and reached into a pouch where he threw the various coin sacks he found laying around, or coin in general. He reach in and pulled out about a full measure and tossed it to the kid's shock. It didn't escape Jon's notice that she quickly eyed where he grabbed her jackpot from.

"Looking to buy some clothes. Fancy ones."

She snorted, and then laughed merrily for a moment, before pointing with a smile at the sign he didn't bother to look at. Then he glanced and laughed as well when he saw the sign for Radiant Raiment, a clothing store she was begging in front of. He looked back and the beggar was gone with her prize. So he did get scammed, with out even a thank you. Though perhaps that was best. The Gift a Charity was not one he wanted usually. Now it was obvious why a shop in a wealthy district would let the destitute beg in front of it.

He walked into the shop with Lydia right behind. Inside every support pillar of the vaulted room was adorned with curtains, and surrounded by mannequin and displays for the owner's wares, co-owners by the spitting insults he just caught. There were also locked cabinets full of jewelry and treasures as well. His intrusive thoughts stayed only that.

"Good. And while you're at it, perhaps you should sew your mouth shut when our fine customers are within earshot, hmm?" The Altmer woman manning the counter in the rear said as she motioned to the newcomers. Jon didn't honestly hear the rest, not paying attention, but he did hear that.

She was unlike any Altmer he had seen so far. Her skin was still golden, but paler and not a sickly yellow. Her brows arched up, up not as sharply. Her overall completion was softer, and her face was not elongated into a jutting chin.

He decided to enter the fray, "No offense, but you smell like an Altmer."

Her emerald eyes, with defined whites and not jaundiced, attempted to pierce him. It failed and he decided not to retaliate. She smirked ever so slightly. She respected honest observation.

"Only some taken. Though I don't look it, do I? Neither does my sister." She replied with her arrogant tone. Jon glanced to the side at her even smugger sister sitting in a chair.

"Why is that?" Jon shot back at the one at the counter.

She leaned in, but not for a more quiet conversation, no to make her point and lay a trap with her cleavage. Her sister scoffed as she spoke, "Because we're not inbred mongrels with insane belief systems."

"Insane belief systems?"

"That we're all temporarily embarrassed gods!" She spit with a chuckle, "That the only thing standing in our way from ascending to our natural forms is those pesky men folk breathing the same air."

"That Talos Isn't a god." Her sister added, "How do you think he'll react when we kill all of his followers? I'm telling you sister, that Dragonborn is here for more than just the Dragons."

"Oh I certainly agree sister. Even I have his blessing to keep my voice supple. There will be a reckoning for the Altmer. Just like there was for the Falmer, and Alyeid."

"What does that have to do with being inbred however? I believe you, but I don't understand." Jon asked.

"They believe that they're closer to the original Aldmer, and thus their godly and holy forms."

"They select for traits."

"Uglyness. They beat generations of Altmer with an ugly stick."

"I'm physically repulsed by Altmer men. The averages ones at least." The sister shot out.

"Like any Altmer men would advance on you."

"Nor you sister."

"Because they see Us, as the mongrels, US! My mother did not conceive with her brother or father or any other disgusting pairing!" The woman behind the counter hit it with the palm of her hand.

"My apologizes," Jon said, "I was fishing for intel, hit a sore spot."

The sister in the chair stayed silent, and the one behind the counter collected herself, "Quite alright. We grew up outside the Dominion. Have man in our line even. We tried to go back for education, perhaps even to serve 'our people' in some capacity. We were not accepted as equal."

"To inbred mongrels. That, is, an insult."

"Indeed. Now I must offer my apologies. I assume you didn't come in just to gain insight into the Altmer psyche. I do respect it actually."

Jon smirked, "We'll be attending court."

"Oh my, and you will need proper attire. Not covered in road dust, or smelling of admittedly sweet sweat."

"My thoughts exactly." Lydia said with a grin.

"I can help you, and I have just the thing. I'll even outfit you for free."

"The catch?" Jon asked.

"You have to tell Jarl Elisif where you got it. I've observed her outfits, and I know what we've made will catch her eye. She may approach to ask, making the job even easier."

"You are supremely confident." Jon said.

"Or arrogant." Lydia added.

"Perhaps both" She smiled back politely, "That is the deal. Two outfits for a bit of advertis-ment to Solitude high society."

Jon smiled back not so politely, "Five percent stake on top, I'll even put down a thousand Septims for it."

Her eyebrow arched even further, and a then her smile turned playful. She quickly glanced to her sister, and she almost imperceptibly shook her head. She turned back, "1 percent."

Jon didn't try to hide his shake, "Five. You'll do a lot of business if the future high queen of Skyrim is wearing your outfits. That's why I'm putting the Septims down. To help you expand operations."

"Five percent, and two thousand Septims. Expanding operations is not an inexpensive endeavor. We already planned on using the Silver-bloods to our advantage."

Jon thought about it for a moment, and did what was best for his estate. He asked, "How much?"

"We have our own considerable savings, but we would need as much as six thousand."

"Cut the silver bloods out entirely. They're only a facilitator in this. You'll have your six thousand, but I get a full ten percent."

She glanced again, and her sister nodded nearly imperceptibly. "Deal. That's If you can get the Jarl in our door."

"His words are honeyed. She'll come." Lydia sagely said.

Jon coughed once to contain himself, and both the sisters smiled as well. He said, "Anything else I should know about this business before I formally invest in it?"

"We do have a contract with the Empire for a new duty uniform. A simple design that gets them away from that ugly waste of fabric they wore before. We make a Septim per uniform that someone else makes for them."

Jon nodded, satisfied to continue his delve into the world of military contracting. Perhaps one day he would fully deal arms, a fantasy in his original time and place. He reached in and began pulling out coin and gem for the investment.

Lydia even broke into her hoard and split the cost of it, "For our house, my sword."

Jon smiled and put a kiss on her hand as they finished placing the bet on the table. They would strip from their clothes and armor together to try on the fine garments. Then they would properly attend a court.