I'm Really Not the Dragonborn.

"Harin…"

"Hmm?"

"What's your thoughts on Whiterun?"

"Let's see… I don't really have an opinion. It's the same as any other place in Skyrim."

"Then.. what about home?"

"Home. For me, it is never about the place. It's about the people."

As they are about to leave Dragonsreach, they are greeted by a Nord woman clad in steel armor. She carries a round shield and a sword on her hip. Like many other Nord women, she gives off the aura of a natural born warrior. 

"The Jarl has appointed me to be your housecarl. It's an honor to serve you." the Nord woman said to Harin.

"Ah, he said I'm Thane now. What does that mean?"

"The Jarl has recognised you as a person of great importance in the hold. A hero. The title of Thane is an honor, a gift to your service. Guards will know to look the other way, if you let them know who you are."

"So, you're my housecarl. A housecarl like Irileth. What does a housecarl do?"

"As my Thane, I'm sworn to your service. I'll guard you, and all you own, with my life."

"Hmm… Well then, this is Ibnor. Treat his words as you would mine." 

"As you wish."

"I'm assuming from now on you'll follow me everywhere?"

"If required, my Thane. Otherwise I will stay here on Dragonsreach, or if you own any lodging property, then it will be my destination."

"No… I don't own anything yet. Just tag along for now."

"Lead the way, after all, I'm sworn to carry your burden."

Thus the trio found themselves making their way to Whiterun's most popular gathering place, The Bannered Mare inn. Renting rooms for the night, they sat around the fire pit, and enjoyed a modest dinner. 

The Bannered Mare, a cozy inn nestled in the heart of Whiterun, was abuzz with activity on this chilly Skyrim night. The warm glow of the fireplace cast long shadows across the room, illuminating the faces of weary travelers and locals alike. The air was thick with the scent of mead and roasted meats, wafting from the kitchen. 

A group of adventurers, their faces etched with the marks of battle, sat around a table, recounting their latest exploits. Their voices echoed through the inn, mingling with the soft clinking of tankards and the rhythmic strumming of a lute. 

At the bar, a lone traveler nursed a mug of ale, his gaze fixed on the flickering flames in the hearth. He was a man of few words, lost in thought, his mind wandering to distant lands and forgotten dreams. In a secluded corner, a pair of lovers whispered sweet nothings, their eyes locked in a passionate embrace. The world outside faded away as they were lost in their own private world. 

As the night wore on, the inn grew quieter, the din of conversation gradually subsiding. The only sounds that remained were the crackling of the fire and the soft snores of those who had succumbed to the warmth and comfort of the inn. 

"So, you made up your mind, huh?" Harin said, breaking the silence between them, her voice heavy.

"What do you mean?" Ibnor asked.

"I know you well enough to read your expression. Wanna share your thoughts?" 

"It's time for us to part ways," he admits after a brief consideration.

"Okay." She gave a short answer after a moment of silence. 

Both of them went silent again. There are no words needed despite the turbulence of their emotions. For every question they have for the other party, they also know the answer. The separation has nothing to do with the feeling they have towards one another. 

"Do I even want to know the reason?" She asked.

"Knowing is better than spending your days wondering why."

"Idiot…"

"I know…"

"What is it?"

"The Greybeards. What they have to offer is essential to your growth. Surely you know that too."

"Doesn't change anything. It's not on my part, then."

"While you're doing that, I will head to Riften. There are a group of people I need to rope in. Once you're done with your training, your destiny as Dragonborn will be revealed bit by bit, and if nothing goes wrong, it will lead you to Riften."

"Even if everything goes wrong, I'll still look for you."

"That, too."

"Does it have anything to do with the thing you ask from the Jarl?"

"In part, yes."

"Why?"

"The Imperials, The Stormcloaks, The Thalmor. The dragons. The vampires. Even those shitty mudcrabs. Everything in this world seems to be out for blood. If you walk on the beach, you couldn't help but to get your feet wet. I might as well build a boat and surf the waves."

"A force of your own? So that's why you asked for Helgen!"

"Our ability… can make us something that many would consider as a One Man Army. But still, there are limits to what we can do alone. I don't need a large number. A decent amount of elite should be enough. I have identified individuals scattered all over Skyrim as potential candidates. The only thing I need is time, to grow and gather all of said individuals."

"No time to waste then. The sooner I get things over with the Greybreads, the faster I can help you. Lydia! We are moving now." 

"As you wish, my Thane."

Harin immediately left the Bannered Mare with Lydia in tow. Ibnor was feeling conflicted with how decisive she is.

"A hug may be too much to ask, but a proper send off won't hurt a bit. She didn't even look back…" He sighs. Just as his lamentation was over, a hand grabbed his cloth from the back and turned him around.

"Whommb..." his words were cut off by a pair of lips. Savouring the taste, the owner licks her lips with a seductive smile after the kiss ends.

"See ya..." Harin turned around and waved her hands as she went out the door. Still stunned, he stood still when a man in a black robe approached him and greeted him. 

"You look like someone who can hold their liquor. How about a friendly contest to win a staff?" the man said. 

Ibnor was surprised by the man. While he didn't recognize the man, he does remember a guy who would stake a staff in a drinking contest. 

"I don't really feel like drinking…"

"Well, come back to me when you do, my friend. Come back when you do." the man said cheerfully.

"Not if I can help it. A night to remember, huh? Not tonight, Sanguine, Daedric Prince of Debauchery." he thought to himself. He left the area and went to his room to sleep. 

The next morning…

"Need a ride?" the carriage driver asked Ibnor as he approached him at the stable.

"I'd like to hire your carriage."

"Where do you want to go?"

"Take me to Riften"

"Climb in back and we'll be off." 

The driver urged the horses to move after Ibnor settled the payment and climbed on the carriage. They left the familiar warmth of Whiterun, its towering walls and bustling market square, to head to Riften, a city of thieves and smugglers, but it is also a place of opportunity. The journey was long and arduous, the road winding through snow-kissed forests and rugged mountains. He bundled himself in a thick fur cloak as the wind howled, carrying the biting chill of the Skyrim winter. The biting cold seeped into his bones, and the howling wind threatened to sweep him away. 

As they crested a hill, a breathtaking vista unfolded before him: the vast expanse of Lake Honrich, its icy waters shimmering under the bleak sky. A sense of awe filled Ibnor's heart as he gazed upon the frozen expanse. The journey had been perilous, but the rewards were clear. 

When they drew closer to Riften, the city's imposing walls appeared on the horizon. The air grew thick with the scent of salt and fish, a stark contrast to the earthy smells of Whiterun. Ibnor got off the carriage and cautiously approached the city gates, his heart pounding with anticipation. Just as he approaches the gate, one of the local guards stops him.

"Hold there!"

"Before I let you into Riften, you need to pay the visitor's tax."

"Oh? What's the tax for?"

"For the privilege of entering the city. What does it matter?"

"Look.. This is obviously a shakedown. Going forward, there are two possible outcomes. One, you insist on your story, and I make a bigger fuss. One of us will end up dead, while the other, in jail. Two, we forget everything, you let me in and I'll wish you a good day. What's it gonna be?" 

"Alright, alright. Keep your voice down… You want everyone to hear you? I'll let you in, just let me unlock the gate."

Having managed to outwit the guard, he entered the city. Just the first step inside the city, he is interrupted again by a voice. 

"I don't know you. You in Riften looking for trouble?" a man in steel armor stares at him like a hawk. Irritation starts to creep up Ibnor's heart. Holding it in, he exhales a heavy sigh.

"Just passing through"

"Yeah? Well, I got news for you. There's nothing to see here.. Last thing the Black-Briars need is some stranger stickin' their nose where it doest belong."

Just as Ibnor wanted to lash out, the man continue.

"Look, I'm doing you a favor here. You look like someone who is not shy of trouble, and I can see your confidence. But, the Black-Briar have Riften in their pocket and the Thieves Guild watchin' their back, so keep your nose out of their business. Maybe you can stir some shits and get away with it on your own but you'll just end up a fugitive."

"Now, that being said, I'm Maul. I watch the street for 'em. If you need dirt on anythin' I'm your guy… But it will cost you."

"Dirt, huh? I'm not exactly clean myself…" Ibnor said.

"Then we're speaking the same language. Good. I like you. So, what do you want to know?"

"Tell me more about the Black-Briars. You know, so I can avoid stepping on their toes."

"Good, you're learnin'. Well, you got Maven, she pretty much runs the whole operation. She got friends in high places if you know what I mean. She also got ties to the Dark Brotherhood and the Thieves Guild, so basically no one can touch her. Just Remember, if she tells you to do somethin'... You damn well better do exactly what she says." 

"Do you know anything about the Thieves Guild?"

"You kiddin'? My brother Dirge works in their hideout. I use to run with them myself, but took a job with Maven after they started hittin' a rough patch. If you want to get in on that action, find Brynjolf in the marketplace. I'm sure he could use someone like you."

"Alright, thanks for the info."

"Remember, stay out of the Black-Briar's business and you'll live longer. Hate to find my new friend ended up in the lake or something."

Ibnor raised his hand waving Maul goodbye without looking back and continued to stroll around the city. Riften has an open secret as a home to a thriving criminal underworld and shady characters lurking in the shadows. Despite that, on the surface, Riften has a vibrant marketplace, where merchants from all over Skyrim gather to sell their wares. The air is thick with the aroma of spices, fresh fish, and roasted meats, while the sounds of haggling and bargaining fill the streets. As he was walking through the city, an interesting conversation caught his ears.

"I had another run-in with the Thieves Guild."

"Be careful, Mjoll. The Thieves Guild has Maven Black-Briar at her back. One snap of her fingers, and you could end up in Riften Jail… Or worse,"

"They represent the reason I'm here. I can't just ignore them, Aerin."

"I know. I just don't want you to leave. You're the only good thing that's happened to this city in a long time."

"Hahaha… the stalker Aerin and a naive goody two shoes Mjoll. How cute." Ibnor thoughts to himself, snickering. 

He then went to his target destination, The Bee and Barb inn, where a certain key individual for his plan would often hang around. Just as he was about to enter the inn, something caught his attention and he paused his action. A woman and a young man are in a heated conversation by the bridge near the inn.

"I'm really getting tired of your excuses. When you borrowed the money, you said you'd pay it back on time and for double the usual fee"

"I know I did. But how was I to know the shipment would get robbed?"

"Next time, keep your plans quieter and nothing would have happened to it"

"What? Are you telling me you robbed it? Why? Why are you doing this to me?"

"Look, Shadr. Last Warning. Pay up or else. All I care about is gold. Everything else is your problem."

With that, the woman left the young man and entered the inn, passing Ibnor without care. Ibnor went to the young man as he sat on the nearby bench, palming his face with both of his hands.

"Hey there…"

"Huh? What do you want?"

"What kind of trouble are you in?"

"I owe a great deal of money to someone and I think they cheated me. I don't know what to do."

"Mind sharing the details? Who knows, maybe I can help."

"So be it, I have nothing more to lose anyway. I was able to work out a deal with the stables in Whiterun to sell me some of their tack and harnesses. I borrowed some gold from Sapphire to pay for the shipment, but it got robbed before it even arrived. Now Sapphire wants her money back, and if I don't pay her, I think she's going to kill me."

"I know Sapphire. I'll help you out."

"You will?! Oh, thank you! If you truly want to help me, I can't thank you enough. But, if you are trying to scam me, I'll let you know that I have nothing of value that you can take."

"You have nothing more to lose, right?"

"Right… Be careful of Sapphire. She's mixed with all sorts of nasty people."

Ibnor only waved to Shadr and entered the inn. He saw Sapphire standing around a corner and made his way towards her.

"Hi, Sapphire, right?"

"Yeah? What's your problem?

"I want to talk to you about Shadr's debts."

"I knew that stupid kid would try and find a way to weasel out of his debt. Look, this is really simple. I lent him some gold, he promised to pay me back and now he says he's broke. End of story." 

"I'll make an offer to you. Forget about his debt, and I'll tell you not one, but two pieces of news that are worth more than what you can get from his debt. How about that?" 

"Confident, are we? What guarantee of what you're offering is worth more?"

"It's about your father and his circumstances." 

Sapphire's iris shrunk due to the shocking news. As quick as a snake bite, she grabbed Ibnor by the collar, spun him against the wall and a knife on his throat. Her emerald eyes now glinting dangerously. 

"There are words not meant to be spoken lightly." She hissed, threatening him and expecting him to realize his folly. 

However, his calm eyes, brimming with confidence, confused her. It was then she realized soft taps coming from her side. She looked down only to see he already placed his dagger on the gaps of her light armor, just below her armpit. She knew, with just a slight push, the dagger could easily pierce through the gaps of her ribcage, into her heart.

"How about we settle this peacefully? Besides, you can easily confirm the news through Delvin. You are, in fact, his niece. Well, that's the first news anyway."

"Who are you?" She slowly releases him.

"That particular information would cost you tremendously. Are you sure you can afford the price?" 

"Fine. Don't know why you'd help a stranger like that but I guess I made enough from his shipment. You can tell Shadr, his debt… Has been paid. Now, you better keep your end of the deal."

"Before I continue, I want to remind you, whatever you do, don't blame Delvin for any of this. He didn't know. Now, your father. His name is Glover Mallory. He is a member of the Thieves Guild. Long after he joined the Guild, he was sent to rob a caravan that was stopping in a tiny farming village not far from the border of Skyrim. When he arrived there, it was a day early and he decided to sleep for the night in the barn of a pig farm."

"There, he met your mother. He was awoken when your mother walked in the barn to do her chores. Both of them fell in love with one another. He ended up living with your mother for a year until she was with a child, you."

"Then, an identity crisis befell him. He was a proud thief and the thought of ending up as a farmer terrified him. Then, he did something he came to regret, which is running away like a coward."

"He didn't have the courage to return to that village for almost fifteen years. When he finally decided to visit, it was too late. The village has been raided by bandits and burned to the ground. He assumed everyone was either dead, or gone, including you, his only child."

"Years later, when you were recruited into the guild, he could believe his eyes. He thought that you're a spitting image of your mother and he knew it was you in an instant. He doesn't know how you survived the attack on that village and why you followed in his footsteps, but he assumed it was meant to be."

"On his account, he wanted to walk right up to you and embrace you, to tell you the truth. But the risk of facing your anger terrifies him. He decided to leave Riften and headed to Solstheim after saying his goodbye to Delvin. He thought that being as far from the truth as he could get is better for everyone."

"However, all of these years, shame, guilt and regrets is eating him alive. For years, he thought about how he could tell you all of this. He wanted to apologize to you. He regrets never being there to hold you at night or to protect you from whatever hardships you endured. He hopes that one day you can find it in your heart to forgive him. He is too ashamed to come back to Skyrim, but if you want to go to Solstheim to find him, he would never run again." Ibnor ends his story.

Sapphire froze with glassy eyes. Despite the initial doubt, somehow she trusts the news that the stranger brings to her. There is a possibility that he is just lying to her, but a large part of her wanted to believe it's all true. With great discipline, she forcefully calms the conflicting emotions within her.

"I… I can't believe it. All those years… On the farm… And my mother never told me about any of this. Words can't even begin to describe how much I appreciate you bringing this news to me." She then took out a beautiful sapphire carving. "Here, take this. I used to carry this Exquisite Sapphire for good luck, but I think you deserve it more than I do."

She then disappeared among the crowds. As the night went on, the inn became fuller. Ibnor picked a table at the far edge of the room, observing the patrons. The dim, flickering light of the lanterns cast long shadows across the room, illuminating the faces of weary travelers and locals alike. The air was infused with the smell of stale ale and sweat, and the only sound was the low murmur of conversation and the occasional clatter of tankards. 

A group of thieves, their faces hidden in shadows, huddled around a table, plotting their next heist. Their voices were low and conspiratorial, and their eyes darted nervously around the room. Mercenaries, each with their own temperament and style, randomly took a seat inside the inn, hoping to attract a rich patron for their next big pay. Their eyes fleeting across the room, scanning and surveying potential opportunities.

Ibnor laid back, knowing there were eyes observing him from afar. His interaction with Sapphire bound to arouse the interest from the Guild itself. Without a care, he simply ordered a meal before renting the room for the night.

The next morning, he was greeted with a voice as he was walking down the stairs, to the ground floor where the bar section is. 

"Never done an honest day's work in your life for all the coins you're carrying, eh lad?" The sentence made Ibnor stop his steps.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I'm saying you've got the coins but you didn't earn a septim of it honestly. I can tell."

"Maybe, but how did you come to that conclusion?"

"It's all about sizing up your mark, lad. The way they walk, what they're wearing. It's a dead giveaway."

"Then, from what I'm wearing you could probably guess blood has been spilled for the money, yet you'd risk making a comment about it?"