The heavy oak door to Ibnor's study closed with a soft thud, leaving the room momentarily silent. The scent of ink and parchment hung in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of the spiced tea Ibnor often brewed late into the night.
He leaned back in his chair, stretching his tired muscles, the weight of the day's affairs finally lifting from his shoulders. Illia and Brina, his most trusted advisors, stood before him, their expressions a mix of concern and resignation.
"That should be the last of it," Ibnor said, a small smile gracing his lips as he pushed the final signed document across the polished table. "The trade agreements with Whiterun are finalized, the border patrols have been reinforced, and the grain shipments to Winterhold are scheduled. Is there anything else?"
"No, Your Majesty. Everything is in order." Illia shook her head, her dark eyes filled with a quiet understanding.
Brina, however, remained stiff and unyielding, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.
"With all due respect, Your Majesty," she began, her voice firm and unwavering, "I must reiterate my concerns regarding your… proposed departure."
Ibnor sighed, a hint of weariness returning to his features. He had anticipated this. He had explained his intentions to them earlier, the need to travel with Harin, to follow the threads of this new development. He had stressed the importance of it, the potential danger it posed, but also the potential rewards.
"Brina," he said gently, "we've been over this. I understand your concerns, but this is something I must do."
Illia placed a comforting hand on Brina's arm, her gaze soft and pleading.
"Brina, you know how he is," she murmured. "He has always insisted that there are times he must go, times when Dawnstar must manage without him. It has always been so."
A flicker of sadness crossed her face as she remembered the many times Ibnor had disappeared on urgent errands, returning days or weeks later, often with little explanation. She knew that once Ibnor made up his mind, nothing she could say could persuade him, unless it involved the person who was closest to him.
Brina, however, remained unmoved. Her gaze was fixed on Ibnor, her expression resolute.
"With all due respect, Your Majesty," she repeated, her voice even more insistent, "those were different times. You were not yet a King then. Now, you are the sole decision-maker for Dawnstar. Your absence is not something that should be taken lightly."
She paused, taking a deep breath before delivering her next point, her tone becoming even more blunt.
"It is one thing for a king to travel, to attend to matters of state in other holds. It is quite another to be absent entirely, along with… the future queen."
A heavy silence descended upon the room. Ibnor blinked, a faint blush rising on his cheeks. He glanced at Illia, who had gasped softly, her eyes widening in surprise. He had never formally announced his intentions to marry Harin, though it was an open secret among his closest circle. Brina's blunt pronouncement had made it suddenly, undeniably, real.
Illia's face flushed a deep crimson, her eyes darting between Ibnor and Brina, her hand flying to her mouth in a gesture of surprise.
"Brina! I… I don't think…" She stammered slightly.
Ibnor cleared his throat, feeling a similar heat rising in his own face. He had intended to announce their betrothal properly, with a formal ceremony and all the appropriate protocols. Brina's unexpected outburst had preempted him, leaving him feeling strangely exposed. He managed a weak smile.
"Brina," he said, trying to regain control of the conversation, "I assure you, Dawnstar will be in good hands. I have complete faith in both of you."
Brina, however, was not easily deterred. Her expression softened slightly, but her resolve remained firm.
"It's not a matter of trust, Your Majesty," she said, her voice now tinged with genuine concern. "It's a matter of… stability. Dawnstar is thriving, yes, but it is still a relatively young hold. Your presence is… reassuring to the people. Your absence, especially coupled with the absence of the future queen, could be misinterpreted. It could breed uncertainty, even unrest."
Ibnor considered her words, his gaze shifting to the map spread out before him. He knew Brina was right, at least partially. Dawnstar's prosperity was largely due to his leadership and the stability he had brought to the region. His absence, particularly during a time of heightened alert and whispers of vampire activity, could indeed cause concern.
"I understand your concerns, Brina," he said finally, his voice more serious now. "And I appreciate your candor. However, this matter… it cannot wait. It concerns not just Dawnstar, but all of Skyrim. Perhaps even beyond."
He looked up at them, his eyes filled with a quiet intensity.
"I will not be gone long. I promise you that. And I will leave detailed instructions for every eventuality."
He paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.
"Perhaps," he mused, "a public announcement before our departure would alleviate some of the concerns you've raised. A simple statement about a necessary journey, and a clear affirmation of your roles in managing the hold in my absence."
Illia nodded in agreement, her initial embarrassment fading.
"That would be wise, Your Majesty," she said, her voice regaining its usual composure. "A formal announcement would quell any potential rumors or speculation."
Brina remained silent for a moment, considering Ibnor's words. Finally, she nodded slowly.
"Very well, Your Majesty," she conceded. "If you believe this is the best course of action, then I will support your decision. But I implore you, return swiftly."
Just as Ibnor was about to respond, a guard entered the study, his expression slightly harried. He bowed his head respectfully.
"Your Majesty," he announced, "there are two individuals requesting an audience. A woman clad in… rather distinctive armor, and an elderly gentleman with a scholarly air about him."
Ibnor raised an eyebrow, intrigued. He hadn't been expecting any visitors, especially not ones described in such a manner.
"Distinctive armor, you say?" he mused.
He exchanged a quick glance with Illia and Brina, both of whom looked equally puzzled.
"Very well," he said to the guard. "Escort them to the main hall. I will receive them there."
The guard bowed again and exited the study. Ibnor turned to his advisors.
"Well," he said, a hint of curiosity in his voice, "this is unexpected."
Illia shrugged.
"Perhaps it's a delegation from another hold?" she suggested.
"The timing, coupled with the… unusual nature of the request, makes me uneasy." Brina frowned slightly, looking at Ibnor.
Ibnor nodded.
"We shall see," he said, gesturing for them to follow him.
They moved from the study to the main hall, a grand chamber usually reserved for formal occasions and important gatherings. Ibnor took his seat on the high-backed throne, the polished wood cool beneath his fingers. Illia and Brina positioned themselves slightly behind and to either side of him.
A few moments later, the heavy doors to the hall swung open, and the guard reappeared, ushering in the two visitors. As they entered, Ibnor's eyes widened in surprise. He recognized them instantly. It was Delphine, clad in her well-worn Blades armor, and Esbern, his white hair and beard framing his aged face.
Esbern, upon entering the hall, immediately straightened, his posture becoming remarkably erect for a man of his age. He offered a crisp salute to Ibnor, his expression respectful.
"Your Majesty," he said, his voice clear and strong.
"Dawnstar is… thriving. A testament to your wise rule." He paused, taking in the hall with a quick glance. "A far cry from the… troubles this land has faced."
Ibnor, still slightly taken aback by their unexpected appearance, nodded slowly.
"Esbern," he acknowledged, his voice regaining its composure. "Delphine. I must admit, I wasn't expecting to see you here. To what do I owe this… honor?"
Esbern's expression turned serious. He stepped forward slightly, his gaze meeting Ibnor's directly.
"We have come to see the Dragonborn, Your Majesty," he stated firmly.
Ibnor's brow furrowed in confusion.
"The Dragonborn?" he repeated. He glanced at Illia and Brina, who looked equally perplexed.
"Harin is currently occupied," he said, turning back to Esbern. "May I ask why you seek her?"
Just after he uttered the words, a thought occurred to him and a flicker of understanding dawning in his eyes. He turned to a nearby guard.
"Fetch Lady Harin," he instructed. "Tell her she has visitors."
The guard bowed and hurried off to find Harin. Ibnor turned back to Esbern and Delphine, his curiosity piqued.
"While we wait for her," he said, gesturing to two chairs near the throne, "perhaps you could elaborate on the reason for your visit. Why do you seek the Dragonborn in Dawnstar?"
Esbern exchanged a quick glance with Delphine, a silent communication passing between them. He then turned back to Ibnor, his expression serious.
"It concerns the dragons, Your Majesty," he said, his voice low and grave.
"Dragons?" he repeated. "But nothing you can't deal with on your own, Alduin is no longer around to resurrect the fallen dragons."
"Alduin is defeated, yes," Esbern confirmed. "But the dragons… There are others, scattered across Skyrim, dormant for centuries. We fear that his defeat has… stirred them."
"We have received reports, scattered and fragmented, but consistent. Sightings of dragons in remote areas, strange weather patterns, whispers of roars echoing through the mountains. We believe these are not isolated incidents." Delphine stepped forward.
"And…?" Ibnor prompted, waiting for them to get to the point.
"We… Well, I have been thinking of what you said. I wanted to help, but I wish I could do so as The Blades. Our history, as you said, was not all glorious. It's my way for redemption." Delphine said, her voice firm, but with a hint of vulnerability.
Before Ibnor could respond, the doors to the hall opened, and Harin entered. A slight furrow creased her brow, a question mark etched on her face. But the moment her eyes landed on Delphine and Esbern, her expression shifted to one of surprised curiosity. She walked briskly towards Ibnor, a small smile playing on her lips.
Ibnor rose from his throne as Harin approached, meeting her halfway. He leaned down and gave her a quick, affectionate kiss.
"It seems we have visitors," he murmured, gesturing towards Delphine and Esbern. "They've come to speak with you." He turned back to the two Blades.
"Please, take your time," he said, his voice now carrying a more formal tone.
With a final glance at Harin, a reassuring smile on his face, Ibnor turned and left the main hall, leaving Harin to speak with her unexpected guests.
Once Ibnor had left the hall, Harin turned her attention to Delphine and Esbern, her expression now serious and focused.
"So," she began, her voice clear and direct, "what brings the two of you to Dawnstar?"
Delphine stepped forward, her gaze meeting Harin's.
"We… we wish to offer our services, Dragonborn," she said, her voice carrying a hint of the old authority that had once defined the Blades. "We wish to fight the dragons, to protect Skyrim, under your command."
Harin studied them for a moment, her eyes searching their faces.
"Is that truly what you want?" she asked, her voice soft but firm. "Or are you simply searching for a purpose, a way to reclaim what you've lost?"
Her words struck a chord, especially with Delphine. A flicker of pain and uncertainty crossed her face. Esbern remained stoic, his brow furrowed in thought.
Harin continued, her gaze sweeping between them.
"Even if you were to rebuild the Blades," she said thoughtfully, "how would you operate? You would be an organization without authority, without sanction. Every move you make would attract attention, especially from the Thalmor. Would you wish to operate in the shadows, like the Thieves Guild, constantly looking over your shoulders?"
She paused, letting her words sink in.
"Think about the Blades of old," she continued. "What were they? Most served directly under the Emperor, the ruling power. That gave them authority, allowed them to move freely, to act without obstruction. What authority do you have now?"
Harin's question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. Delphine looked defeated, her shoulders slumping slightly. Esbern's frown deepened.
"Dragonborn… what is your opinion on the matter?" Esbern spoke, his voice low and hesitant after a brief silence.
Harin considered his question.
"I have no grand aspirations," she said, her voice quiet but firm. "Destiny thrust the mantle of Dragonborn upon me, but all I truly desire is to live my life to the fullest, to find my own path."
She looked at them, her expression earnest.
"If you seek a leader, if you expect me to take up the mantle of the Blades' Grandmaster, I cannot do that. But if you are simply searching for a place to belong, a way to contribute, perhaps… perhaps I can help."
Her words seemed to spark something within Delphine and Esbern. They exchanged a long, silent look. Delphine sighed, a deep, weary sigh that seemed to release a great weight. Letting go of her pride, she finally asked, her voice humble.
"What… what should we do then?"
Harin smiled warmly.
"Start small," she advised. "Help people. Dawnstar has always welcomed those in need, those seeking a fresh start. You could contribute here, in whatever way you can. There are always tasks that need doing, people who need help."
A mischievous glint entered Harin's eyes.
"And," she continued, a sly smile playing on her lips, "while I cannot lead the Blades as they once were, I can help you become something… similar."
She leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice.
"Ibnor is now the King of Dawnstar," she said, her voice laced with conspiratorial excitement. "And he, too, knows the Thu'um. He is a powerful leader, respected by his people. Why not serve him? Serve him as the Blades once served Tiber Septim?"
The effect was immediate. Delphine gasped, her eyes widening in disbelief. Esbern's frown deepened, and he shook his head slowly, as if trying to clear his ears.
"Serve a king?" he repeated, his voice laced with incredulity. "The Blades? Serving a… local ruler?"
Harin raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in her voice.
"Local? Ibnor commands Dawnstar, a thriving city-state. He has brought peace and prosperity to this region. His influence extends far beyond these walls. And he is… more than you know." She smiled enigmatically.
"Besides," she added, her tone becoming more persuasive, "where else would you go? The Empire is fractured, the Blades are scattered, and the Thalmor hunt you relentlessly. Here, in Dawnstar, you would have sanctuary, purpose, and a chance to rebuild, not as the Blades of old, but as something… new."
Delphine looked at Esbern, then back at Harin, her expression softening.
"What would this entail?" she asked hesitantly.
"It would mean serving Ibnor, offering him your expertise and loyalty," Harin explained. "It would mean protecting Dawnstar, and by extension, Skyrim, from any threats. It would mean using your skills and knowledge to aid the people, to build a better future. It would mean… redemption, Delphine. A chance to atone for the mistakes of the past."
Esbern finally spoke, his voice regaining some firmness.
"The Blades served the Dragonborn," he said, his gaze fixed on Harin. "That was our purpose, our sacred duty."
"And Ibnor is closely tied to the Dragonborn," Harin countered, her smile widening. "He was there when Alduin fell. He understands the importance of protecting Skyrim. He even knows the Thu'um, though he uses it sparingly." She paused. "He is not the Dragonborn, no. But he is… something more. And he needs those he can trust."
Delphine and Esbern exchanged another look. The weight of their past, the burden of the Blades' legacy, seemed to press on them. Finally, Delphine sighed.
"It's… unconventional," she admitted.
"It is," Harin agreed. "But these are unconventional times. The old ways are gone. It's time for something new. A new purpose, a new beginning."
"Give it some thought. Talk to Ibnor. See what he has to say. Dawnstar is open to those who seek a new path." She looked at them earnestly.
She turned to leave, then paused, looking back with a knowing smile.
"And one more thing. Don't underestimate Ibnor. You might be surprised by what you find."
With that, she exited the hall, leaving Delphine and Esbern alone to contemplate their future. The weight of Harin's words settled upon them, a heavy burden of past failures and uncertain possibilities. Delphine paced slowly, her hand still occasionally drifting towards her sword hilt. The idea of serving a king, any king, after their long service to the Dragonborn Emperors, felt like a significant shift, a departure from their established purpose.
The Blades had always been above petty politics, answering only to the Dragonborn. Now, the Dragonborn herself was suggesting they serve a local ruler. Yet, the alternative—a life of constant flight, hunted by the Thalmor, with no purpose beyond mere survival—was equally unappealing.
Esbern, meanwhile, remained by the table, his gaze fixed on the intricate patterns of the wood grain, his mind racing with possibilities. He had dedicated his life to the Blades, to the Dragonborn. Could this… unorthodox proposition offer a new path, a way to continue their mission in a changed world? The silence between them was thick with unspoken questions, a silent debate raging within their hearts.