Dragonborn Ascendant (17)

A/N: This chapter comes out a bit late because I suddenly decided to rewrite it in a whole different way, with a new outcome than the original draft when it was Wednesday. Thankfully, I was able to use bits and pieces of the first draft to make this one quickly.

As always, my thanks to everyone still supporting me.

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The Silver-Blood Inn was a dark and hollow place even with dozens of candles brightening the nooks and crannies with their flickering lights.

“You are back earlier than I thought,” were the first words Aela greeted us with, bringing a mug of… probably ale to her lips. “Did the talk with the Jarl not go as you expected?”

“Jarl Igmund was… understandably upset,” Lydia answered, trying to remain respectful and polite as always. “Not very agreeable, but he did give us his approval at least.”

“Some good news,” the redhead sighed. “Then,” Aela asked, turning to look at me. “What do we do now?”

“Now?” I muttered, looking around for a moment. My eyes narrowed. “There’s not really much we can do. Getting rid of the Forsworn won’t be easy and it’ll certainly be much more dangerous to fight them outside in the mountains. We’ll be at risk in and out of the city until this whole debacle is done.”

“Are you scared, Magnus?” Aela raised an eyebrow. “You’re talking as if you hadn’t killed a dragon almost entirely by yourself, Dragonborn. What can a few daedra worshippers do?”

“Stab you in the back?” I returned, to which the woman huffed. “Aela,” I sighed. “I might be powerful on my own, but I’m still mortal and only one, and this city is infested with them.” Even with magic I could only do so much at the moment, though, it would certainly open up many more opportunities than anything else, really.

Shaking my head, I continued. “In any case, there’s something I have to do.”

The two warrior women watched me quietly - Lydia silently slipping to take one of the free seats next to the redhead - as I strode and marched past the bar table, claiming a place next to the fireplace. Margaret flinched, feeling my presence close to her. She tensed, moving away and raising her arms as if ready to fight when she first looked up and stared at my face.

“Oh…” she sighed. “Thank goodness. It’s you, Sir Magnus.”

“Sorry if I scared you, Margaret.” I muttered an apology, sitting on one of the free chairs next to the woman. “Could we talk for a moment?”

“O-of course,” the Nord woman hesitantly nodded. “How can I help you?”

“You said before that you came to Markarth to visit the city and buy gems, didn’t you?” I asked, receiving a reluctant nod and a confused look in return. “Right. Now, you can tell me what you really came here to do, spy.”

Her eyes widened. “W-what?” She gasped, frantically looking around. “M-me? I-I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sir.”

“You don’t have to play innocent with me, Margaret,” I leaned back, crossing my arms and staring into the fire. “I know Tulius sent you here.”

“W-what?!” Her eyes widened another time and her panic became visible. “S-Sir Magnus! A-are you drunk?!”

A laugh escaped my lips. “I’m sorry, Margaret,” I shook my head, a smile playing on my lips. “I must have scared you. I’m just jesting, of course.”

“O-of course.” The Nord nodded hurriedly, placing a hand over her chest and throwing another guarded look to our surroundings. She sighed after several moments, satisfied when she found no one but us nearby to eavesdrop before slumping her shoulders. “Still… how did you know?” She asked in a low voice, throwing me a sideway glance. “Was I so obvious?”

“Oh, so the cat is out of the bag, now?” I muttered, straightening up and completely ignoring the weird look she gave me. “Let’s just say I know things I shouldn’t. Something which I’m only able to do because I’m the Dragonborn.”

“You don’t expect me to believe this, do you?” Margaret huffed, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes.

“Uriel Septim could see the future too,” I pointed out, and she clicked her mouth shut.

“Is that why you are here then? Because the gods gave you a vision?”

Not really. “You could say that,” I nodded. “In any case. I knew you’d be there by the market when I arrived at Markarth, I know of the situation in the Reach, of the Forsworn. It’s all things I know, just as your… problem.”

“My problem, you say.” The blonde hummed. “And? Did the gods also give you an answer to this?”

“No, they didn’t, but I have my own plans,” I shrugged. “And if I were you, I’d go back to Solitude before the first snow. Or if you decide to stay, then to find somewhere safe to hide in. The Reach will be painted red this winter.”

Having given my piece of advice I got up and left, stopping for a moment to ask Aela to keep a close eye on the inn before Lydia and I both headed out another time. We didn’t wear armour- well, I didn’t at least, Lydia still insisted on wearing at least a mail shirt beneath a tunic and her own coat - which all in all made her look hilariously buffed -; but we both did have our weapons with us. Me, an ebony sword and an iron dagger, both strapped to my belt on my hips and hid under my coat while Lydia still carried a shield and a sword with herself; and people always gave us space when we walked by after a look.

We followed the paths that led up the mountain, still very empty in the early hours of the day. I didn’t know where the Treasury House - the place where the Silver-Blood family ruled the city - was, but I remembered enough of the game’s quest to know it was near Nepos’ house. It didn’t surprise me, however, that one of the guards quite eagerly offered us directions while shamelessly ogling an uncomfortable Lydia.

It was a building with an opulent entrance just next to one of the waterfalls of the city. The metal door opened without so much a squeak, showing us a short corridor that led to the main room with a large counter on the front and raised areas on the southeastern and southwestern corners. On the east and west wall, stairs rose past the counter where a young woman frowned in our direction.

“The Treasury House is only open for the patrons of the Silver-Blood,” she said. “You don’t belong here.”

“That’s where you are wrong, darling,” I smiled. “I have business with Thonar. Where can I find him?”

“Oh,” she blinked, dazed into innaction for a moment. When she shook her head a second later she blushed and averted her gaze, stammering for a moment on her words. “I-I’m sorry to keep you, sir. Please, head right in.” She said, motioned for the stairs to her right.

Offering a nod to the woman, we stepped past her and headed to the left when a voice made us pause.

“You are here to see my husband?”

Turning, we were faced with a blonde Nord woman. She was quite pretty, I had to admit, a woman in her twenties, with a certain mature look that went quite well with her fine clothes. Though that image was marred slightly by the arrogant expression on her face, something that almost made me scowl in return. She had the look of a bitch, and by the tone of her voice, it wasn’t just a mere impression.

“Your husband?” I parroted her words. ”Are you perhaps Thonar’s wife?”

“I am,” she answered, raising her nose. “And what do you want with my husband? Who are you?”

She died, right? I was fairly sure she did die during this quest. And that would be… such a pity, really. She’s such a pretty woman, to die so easily and so suddenly like that…

It was a waste.

I grunted. “Lydia, keep her company.”

“My Thane?” The brunette mumbled, her confusion palpable.

“Don’t worry,” I reassured her. “I’ll be done quickly with Thonar.”

The stair led to another short corridor that stopped on a door. It was unlocked and I easily pushed it open and slipped into the room on the other side, where a large centre table of stone was covered in papers and a man scribbled something while bent over.

“Thonar Silver-Blood…”

“Wh-what?!” The Nord jumped, eyes wide with shock. “Who- how did you get in here?” He growled, expression quickly transitioning to anger. “I said I wanted no visitors!”

“Too bad.” I muttered, closing the door behind me. Then, with the balding man still watching me I quickly closed the distance separating us with three large strides before grabbing the Nord by the scruff of his jacket, lifting him up with a single hand.

“W-what?” He gasped. “Unhand me now, bastard!” He roared, trying to unsuccessfully break my grip on him. “Damnit!”

And then I slammed him against a wall.

“Right, you useless fuck,” I smiled, enjoying the grimace of pain in his expression. “Here is how it’s going to be, I’ll say what I have to say, and you will obey me, got it?”

“Wh-who do you think you are to treat me like this?” Thonar growled, still struggling to break free of my hold. “You think you can order me?!” He snarled.

“I do.” I smiled. “Gol Hah Dov!”

“W-what is…” he started, voice fierce at first but quickly subduing as the shout overpowered his will and forced him to submit. When I knew I had him under my control, I finally let him down.

“You know,” I muttered. “Mind control is really not my preferred way of doing things, but this will just make things go smoothly. First,” I started, “you are going to hand me all your properties. No, all the Silver-Blood family properties, and I do mean everything. Your farms, your mines, your shops. I want all of it, down to the last coin. You’ll deliver the papers to me at the Silver-Blood Inn, do you understand?”

At the shaky nod from the Nord I continued. “Good, then, after you’ve done that, you will deliver yourself to the Jarl, and confess all of your involvement behind the Forsworn plague. I expect you to be imprisoned if not immediately executed, so you should also tell your wife that she should visit me before you go.” I ordered.

Netorare was a trash fetish but I enjoyed it much more when it was netori, and besides, it's not like Thonar will be in the picture at all, or that his wife loves him as much as she loves his gold for that matter.

So, with all that said, I was completely guilt free when I walked away from Thonar’s study and was almost immediately greeted by the sounds of combat. Lydia had her shield up being dosed by an intense flame an elderly woman was spewing at her, with the blonde wife of Thonar cowering in the corner behind my housecarl. A man rushed against the brunette but before he could reach her I extended my hand and zapped him with a lightning bolt.

The shock spell hit him right on the head, which exploded into a red mist as his body slumped to the ground. The old assassin gasped in surprise, interrupting her attack for a moment. A fatal mistake, because on the briefest of openings she could find, Lydia stepped forward, her sword drawn, and slashed, the tip of her blade catching the woman’s neck that opened, making blood gush and stain the floor as her body fell lifelessly and she tried to desperately clutch to her neck and cling to life.

“Lydia,” I called the woman who snapped her eyes to meet mine, straightening herself when she watched me marching towards her. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine my Thane,” the brunette smiled, tension leaving her shoulders. That didn’t ease up her frown, however. “Cowards,” she spat. “They attacked suddenly, almost caught me off guard.”

“Then I’m glad nothing bad happened to you.” I muttered, earning a tired sigh from the woman.

“So do I, my Lord… Did your talk go well, at least?” She inquired and I nodded.

“About as good as I expected,” I said. “We’ll want to get back to the inn soon.”

“As you command, my Thane.” Lydia dutifully nodded, making me smile in return. Her loyalty was admirable, I had to admit, and her sense of dutifulness was just as remarkable. She didn’t complain, she didn’t whine and she didn’t judge even if she disagreed with something.

I’ll buy her a new set of armour, I decided. Provided that Thonar really does hand over his properties to me, I’ll be the richest man in all of Skyrim, and that will be plenty enough money to equip Lydia with the best weapons and armour money can buy.

“Are you hurt, Lady Silver-Blood?” I asked a moment later, helping the blonde woman back to her feet, her hands still shaky as she clutched desperately to me.

“N-no,” she answered with a trembling voice. Her face was plaid with fright, and she had wide eyes filled with panic as she stared at the corpses of her would-be assassins. “Nana, Donnel… why?” She whispered.

“A mistake of your husband.” I grunted. “Something that will be taken care of.”

“W-will it?” She asked me another time, still filled with fear.

“It will.” I spoke another time with unyielding firmness. “I’ll be sure of it.” I promised, and that seemed to reassure her, even as the blonde gulped and nodded hesitantly, slowly letting go of my hand.

We still checked on the other two people in the Treasury House, the attendant woman, a servant called Rhiada who fortunately managed to duck behind the counter behind any real harm could be done to her; and the cook, a man in shock left in an almost catatonic state by his own assistant who revealed himself an assassin. No one was hurt, however, which was a good thing, and meant that Lydia and I were quick to leave the Treasury House.

“Where to now, my Thane?” My housecarl asked, and for a moment I contemplated paying a visit to Nepos, but decided against it.

The Forsworn would be dealt with inside of Cidhna Mine by cutting their head in the form of Madanach, the king in rags. Getting rid of Nepos was useless, he was just simply a middle man, after all. Still I couldn’t leave loose ends so carelessly behind.

A reluctant sigh escaped my lips.

“To the Understone Keep.”

Words in Dovahzul:

Gol Hah Dov = Earth Mind Dragon (Bend Will shout)

-x-X-x-

A/N: So, this chapter... originally, when I wrote it a month ago, it was much more simple and much more safe, and I was pretty satisfied with what I had done. However, I felt it was a boring chapter since it was simply the tried and true formula of following the quest and that didn't really make me happy.

So, suddenly, I decided to upset things a little bit and throw the original questline down to the gutter by completely changing its steps in the form of this and the next chapter.