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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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The woman had violently broken the rails, and she was standing directly in his living room. Delphine looked at Aeloria, and then locked her sharp, calculating eyes directly onto the towering High Elf. She offered a tight, utterly humorless, fiercely evaluating smile. "I deeply apologize for interrupting your morning," Delphine spoke, her voice smooth but laced with cold, hidden steel. "But I have traveled quite a long way. I simply had to meet the two legendary new Thanes of Whiterun... face to face."
The moment Delphine's final words settled into the warm air of the house, the atmosphere inside the main room changed so sharply it almost felt physical. The cheerful crackle of the hearth seemed to dim. The soft domestic calm that had existed only moments before was instantly replaced by a tense, predatory stillness.
Aerion's golden eyes remained fixed on Delphine's face. The immediate, primal instinct of the High Elf was not diplomatic. It was lethally defensive.
Aerion seamlessly shifted his weight, dropping his right shoulder slightly, entirely obscuring his right hand within the thick, heavy folds of his dark robes. He did not speak an incantation. He simply reached into the absolute depths of his max level Destruction spell.
A condensed, superheated sphere of pure, roaring plasma, a master level Incinerate spell, instantly materialized within his hidden palm. The localized heat caused the fabric of his robes to faintly ripple, the smell of ozone instantly flooding the quiet living room.
He took a deliberate, highly aggressive half step forward, physically placing his towering frame between the unknown woman and Aeloria.
"Who are you to enter my private property without invitation?" Aerion demanded, his melodic voice completely stripped of its usual, aristocratic warmth. It was replaced by a cold, resonant, terrifyingly sharp edge that cut through the room like a physical blade."Who are you to walk into my house and announce yourself as if we are expected to know your intentions? And who exactly gave you the impression that you have the right to 'meet' us in this manner?"
The sudden, violent shift in the High Elf's demeanor hit the room like a thunderclap.
Delphine's eyes widened slightly, her pupils contracting in genuine, unfiltered shock. This was absolutely, entirely outside the information of her intelligence reports. Every whisper she had gathered regarding Thane Aerion painted him as a calm, calculating, fiercely intelligent scholar who preferred economic manipulation over brute force. She had fully expected to be greeted with polite, condescending Altmer arrogance.
She had not expected to walk into the den of a coiled, venomous viper that looked ready to reduce her to a pile of smoking ash on his woven rugs.
Aeloria, sitting at the dining table, was equally stunned by her patron's sudden, aggressive fury. She had seen Aerion incinerate trolls and obliterate undead, but he had always maintained a flawless, detached calm while doing so. She had never seen him project this level of raw personal hostility toward a living person.
"Aerion, peace!" Aeloria called out, immediately standing up from her chair and rushing forward. She placed a heavy, reassuring hand upon the High Elf's tense shoulder, attempting to physically ground him. "Calm down, my friend. She is just a traveler. Let us hear her speak before we call the guards."
Delphine stood frozen near the door, her experienced, survival honed instincts screaming at her that she was standing millimeters away from a lethal tripwire. She deliberately cleared her throat, ensuring her hands remained visible and away from the hidden daggers she carried beneath her leather tunic.
"I... I deeply apologize, my lords," Delphine stammered slightly, actively trying to project the persona of a weary, slightly intimidated traveler. "If I am out of line by not waiting for your explicit agreement to enter, I ask for your forgiveness. But I certainly feel that my mere presence does not deserve such a hostile, violent reaction, does it?"
Aerion stared at her for three long, agonizing seconds. He felt the heavy, calming pressure of Aeloria's hand on his shoulder. He knew that incinerating the Grandmaster of the Blades in his living room in front of his entire strike team would be a catastrophic geopolitical error.
With a supreme effort of will, Aerion mentally severed the flow of Magicka to his right hand.
The superheated sphere of plasma silently, instantly dissipated within the folds of his robes. The oppressive heat in the room vanished, though the faint smell of ozone lingered as a silent warning.
Aerion stood up straight, towering over the older Nord woman. The aggressive fury bled out of his face, replaced by a cold, calculating, deeply mocking mask of scholarly recognition.
"Do not insult my intelligence by playing the innocent, lost traveler," Aerion countered smoothly, his golden eyes piercing directly through her disguise. "I remember you perfectly. Delphine, isn't it? The humble, quiet innkeeper who pours the ale at the Sleeping Giant Inn down in Riverwood."
The revelation hit the room with profound, immediate impact.
Sinmir, standing in the doorway behind Delphine, instantly stiffened. His hand dropped heavily to the hilt of his broadsword. A simple innkeeper had no business commanding the attention of Thanes, and she certainly had no business slipping past his perimeter guards with the silent grace of a trained scout.
Jenassa, sitting near the fire, slowly set aside the arrow she had been fletching. Her crimson eyes narrowed to lethal slits as she analyzed Delphine's stance, the balanced weight, the calloused hands, the predatory stillness. The Morag Tong assassin recognized a fellow killer instantly.
Aeloria blinked in surprise, looking between the High Elf and the woman. "An innkeeper? From Riverwood?"
Delphine's heart skipped a violent beat.
She stared up at the Altmer, entirely shocked that he had actually retained the memory of her face. When the strike team had passed through Riverwood weeks ago, she had intentionally played the background role, ensuring she was entirely unremarkable. For him to instantly pull her true name and location from his vast mental archives was terrifying.
Delphine took a slow, measured breath, forcing her erratic pulse to steady. She could not lose control of the narrative.
"Yes," Delphine confirmed, keeping her voice incredibly even, though her knuckles were white. "I am Delphine. I am the innkeeper from the Sleeping Giant Inn. And while I apologize for my sudden intrusion, the reason I have marched all this way to meet with the two new Thanes of the hold is because I possess information of absolute, catastrophic importance. I have something critical to report to you."
Aerion crossed his arms, his posture radiating pure, condescending skepticism. "And what could a humble innkeeper possibly have to report to the Jarl's court that warrants trespassing on my estate?"
Delphine swallowed hard, delivering the bait she had carefully prepared.
"I saw a dragon," Delphine stated, her eyes locked onto Aeloria. "I saw a massive, winged beast flying high over the mountains. It was heading directly east, moving with purpose toward the direction of Kynesgrove."
The word hung heavily in the air. Aeloria's eyes widened, her Dragonborn instincts instantly flaring at the mention of her sworn prey.
But before Aeloria could even open her mouth to react to the news, before she could ask a single tactical question regarding the beast's trajectory or size, Aerion moved in for the absolute, narrative kill.
He systematically, ruthlessly dismantled the spymaster's logic.
"Kynesgrove," Aerion repeated, his voice dripping with icy, academic mockery. He took a slow, deliberate step toward her, using his towering height to physically intimidate the woman. "Kynesgrove is a small mining settlement located deep within the borders of Eastmarch. Eastmarch is the absolute, sovereign territory of Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak, the Jarl of Windhelm."
Aerion tilted his head, his golden eyes boring directly into Delphine's soul.
"So, tell me, 'innkeeper'," Aerion demanded, his words striking like perfectly aimed physical blows. "If you saw a dragon flying toward Stormcloak territory, why in the name of the Nine Divines would you march west? Why would you bypass the Imperial garrisons, bypass the Hold borders, and come all the way to Whiterun to report this matter to the Thanes of Jarl Balgruuf?"
Delphine opened her mouth to speak, but Aerion did not give her a fraction of a second to formulate a counter argument.
"I will tell you why," Aerion continued, his voice rising in volume, entirely dominating the acoustic space of the room. "Because you are lying. You do not care about Kynesgrove, and you certainly do not care about protocol. You couldn't care less about reporting to the Thanes of Whiterun."
He pointed a long, elegant finger directly at Aeloria.
"You came here because you wanted to meet her," Aerion accused fiercely. "You heard the rumors spilling from the taverns. The entire city knows that Aeloria was summoned by the Greybeards. You heard that she is the Dragonborn. You fabricated this entire, pathetic, geographically nonsensical excuse about a dragon sighting simply because you felt an arrogant, unearned need to personally inspect the mythological savior of Skyrim for yourself."
Delphine was entirely choked by the High Elf's words.
She stood frozen in the entryway, feeling as though she had been completely, figuratively stripped naked in front of the entire room. Every single one of her carefully constructed lies, her pragmatic excuses, and her layered intelligence protocols had been brutally, effortlessly torn apart by the Altmer's razor sharp logic. He saw entirely through her. He knew exactly what she was doing.
A deep, burning, visceral hatred suddenly flared within Delphine's chest.
It was the ingrained, decades old, absolute hatred she harbored for the highest levels of Altmer society, the Thalmor. The High Elves who had hunted her order to near extinction, the arrogant mages who believed they were the absolute masters of the universe.
For a terrifying, irrational second, she wanted to drop her disguise completely. She wanted to draw her Blades sword, scream her title, and challenge the condescending mage to a fight to the death.
But she aggressively bit her tongue, tasting copper.
She forced the hatred back down into the dark. Her vast, highly compiled intelligence dossiers had explicitly detailed that this specific High Elf was fundamentally different from the Thalmor Justiciars. He was a wealthy, pragmatic scholar who had actively protected Whiterun and operated completely independently of the Aldmeri Dominion.
Furthermore, her survival instincts screamed at her that if she drew a weapon in this room, she would be dead before her blade even cleared its scabbard. The massive mercenary captain behind her, the dark elf assassin flanking her, the Dragonborn in front of her, and the terrifyingly perceptive High Elf would annihilate her.
She had to save face. She had to salvage the operation.
"I... I will admit," Delphine stammered, frantically scrambling to rebuild a fragment of her cover. She looked at Aeloria, offering a weak, apologetic gesture. "I will admit that I of course knew that Aeloria was rumored to be the Dragonborn. Word travels fast on the trade routes. And... perhaps my curiosity did get the better of my logic."
She looked back at Aerion, trying to inject a tone of respectful deference into her voice.
"But I truly did see the dragon flying toward Kynesgrove," Delphine insisted, clinging desperately to the primary objective. "I simply felt that... formally requesting an audience with the new Thanes of the hold was a vastly more respectful, diplomatic reason to approach your estate, rather than simply barging in and demanding to see the Dragonborn like a crazed fanatic."
Aerion's eyes narrowed into dangerous, golden slits.
He saw exactly what she was doing. She was backpedaling. She was trying to frame her intrusion as a misguided attempt at politeness.
Aerion opened his mouth, fully prepared to completely incinerate her final excuse. He was fully prepared to look her dead in the eyes and declare to the entire room that the real reason she had come to inspect Aeloria was because Delphine, the paranoid spymaster, fundamentally did not trust the Greybeards, and she did not trust that Aeloria was the true Dragonborn until she saw it proven with her own eyes. He was going to expose her entire, arrogant ideological foundation.
"The truth is that you—" Aerion began, his voice laced with venom.
"Aerion, that is enough."
Aeloria's voice cut through the tension like a heavy steel sword.
The Dragonborn stepped firmly forward, physically interposing herself between the towering High Elf and the disguised spymaster. She placed both of her hands firmly upon Aerion's chest, pushing him back a half step.
Aerion blinked in surprise, the momentum of his verbal assault was completely halted by the physical intervention done by Aeloria.
"Aeloria?" Aerion questioned, looking down at her.
"I said calm down," Aeloria instructed, her bright blue eyes looking up at him with a mixture of gentle reprimand and genuine, profound surprise. She shook her head slowly. "By the Eight, Aerion. I have marched beside you through ancient crypts and faced a dragon, and I have never seen you act like this. You have the sudden, explosive temper of a true, blood drunk Nord... but you deliver it with the cold, terrifying precision of a scholar."
She offered him a small, placating smile, gently patting his chest.
"She is just a woman who saw a dragon and made a poor decision regarding who to report it to," Aeloria reasoned, her inherent, trusting Nordic nature completely blinding her to the vast, shadowy geopolitical games being played around her. "You have sufficiently terrified the poor innkeeper. Let it rest."
Aerion stood perfectly still, his transmigrator mind rapidly assessing the shifted dynamic of the room.
He looked over Aeloria's shoulder. Delphine was still standing near the door, but the sheer, deer in the headlights terror had vanished from her eyes.
The absolute moment Aeloria had intervened and broken Aerion's relentless, crushing verbal momentum, the spymaster had managed to catch her breath. Delphine had found her footing again. The psychological opening to completely expose her had closed.
Aerion let out a slow, controlled, deeply frustrated sigh.
He reached up, gently covering Aeloria's hand on his chest, offering her a flawless, highly apologetic smile that completely masked the seething tactical irritation within his mind.
"You are correct, Aeloria," Aerion conceded smoothly, his melodic voice returning to its calm, aristocratic baseline. "I apologize for my outburst. I allowed my protective instincts to override my hospitality."
He gently moved her hand away, turning his golden gaze back to Delphine. He ensured his next words carried a chilling, absolute promise that only the spymaster would truly understand.
"You must forgive me, Delphine," Aerion stated, his voice perfectly polite, yet entirely devoid of warmth. "It is simply that my instincts, honed by years of traveling this dangerous world and surviving the darkest corners of this province... they scream at me. They tell me that you are vastly more than a simple woman pouring ale. They tell me that you are hiding deep, shadowy secrets that possess the potential to bring massive, catastrophic consequences upon us all. I do not like unknown variables in my home."
Delphine's throat bobbed visibly as she swallowed a heavy gulp of saliva. The High Elf wasn't just guessing, he knew. He was actively warning her that if she made a single false move against his people, he would end her.
"I... I understand your caution, Thane Aerion," Delphine replied quietly, keeping her head slightly bowed. "These are dangerous times."
Aeloria clapped her hands together loudly, completely shattering the lingering, heavy tension in the room. The Dragonborn was a creature of action, not politics, and she had heard the only word that truly mattered to her.
"Caution is good, but action is better!" Aeloria declared enthusiastically, turning her bright blue eyes toward the door. "If there is truly a dragon sighting, then the Jarl's borders and the Stormcloak territories mean absolutely nothing to me. A dragon is a dragon, and it is a threat to every single living soul in Skyrim. If the beast is heading to Kynesgrove, then we must ride to Kynesgrove to intercept it before it burns the miners to ash."
Aerion looked at Aeloria, seeing the absolute, unshakeable heroic determination shining in her eyes. He couldn't argue against the primary questline without breaking character.
Aerion offered a slow, deeply resigned nod.
"Very well, Aeloria," Aerion agreed smoothly, shifting gears from paranoid defender back to tactical commander. "If that is the path the Dragonborn chooses, then we shall march for Eastmarch."
Delphine, sensing that the Dragonborn had entirely taken the bait despite the High Elf's terrifying interference, immediately stepped forward. She needed to insert herself into the expedition to observe the absorption of the soul.
"I can help you," Delphine offered quickly, her voice regaining its confident, commanding edge. "I know the roads to Eastmarch perfectly. I can guide your team directly through the mountain passes and straight to Kynesgrove where the dragon is most likely to nest."
Aerion's golden eyes snapped toward her, an expression of sheer, unadulterated warning flashing across his features.
"You may guide us, innkeeper," Aerion accepted coldly. "But heed my words. If this expedition is a trap, or if you attempt to manipulate the Dragonborn's path for your own hidden agendas... you will not live long enough to see the beast."
Delphine met his gaze, her sharp eyes hardening with the resolute steel of the Blades.
"It is not a trap," Delphine swore softly. "I want to see the dragon dead just as much as you do."
"Then let us prepare," Aerion commanded, turning away from the spymaster. "Sinmir! Ensure the perimeter remains absolutely secure. Jenassa, prepare your gear. We ride east to hunt a dragon when Lydia and Valdemar returned."
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[Main Panel]
Name: Aerion
Race: High Elf (Altmer)
Health: 540/540 Stamina: 560/560 Magicka: 750/750
Level: 158
Skills: Animal Affinity (MAX LEVEL), Fast Skill Levelling (MAX LEVEL), Fast Magic Mastery (MAX LEVEL), Instant Shout (MAX LEVEL), Dragon Master (MAX LEVEL), Destruction (Fire(+3)/Lightning(+1)/Frost(+1)) (Level 67/92/56), Restoration (Healing(+1)/Purify(+2)) (Level 52/50), Alteration (Level 35), Illusion (Level 50), Conjuration (Necromancy/Summoning(+1)) (Level 37/38), Persuasion(+1) (Level 89), Smithing (Level 22), Sneak (Level MAX), One Handed(+1) (Level 72), Two Handed (Level 81), Lockpicking (Level 35), Archery (Level 72), Enchanting (Level 66), Light Armor(+1) (Level 18), Block (Level 70), & Pickpocket (Level 8)
Shouts: Fus Roh Dah (Force Balance Push), Tiid (Time), Krii (Kill), Feim Zii (Fade Spirit), Su (Air), & Laas (Life)
[Inventory Panel]
1x Small Sack, Poacher's Axe, Mammoth Tusk, the Golden Claw, Calm Spellbook, Arvel's Journal, Inkwell & Quill, Thief Book, Scroll Of Summoning (Wolf), Scroll Of Healing, Weak Potion of Paralysis, Golden Staff of Flames, Parchment Rolls Of Mammoths Farm And Loan, Ebony Claw, Orcish Dagger, Jagged Crown, The Mirror, Ring of Pure Mixtures, Grand Soul Gem (Filled), Reanimate Corpse Tome, Staff of Lightning, Deed to Tundra Homestead, Sapphire, Ruby, Dawnbreaker, Traveling Backpack (Supplies), Potion of Minor Magicka, Vampire Armor, Vampire Boots, Movarth's Golden Ash (Unique), Dwarven Sword, Hide Boots Of Sneak, Gold Ruby Ring of Fortify Magicka, Iron Garnet Ring of Fortify Conjuration & Magicka Regen, Elven Dagger, Potion of Healing, Honed Ancient Nord Sword of Sparks, Gold Emerald Circlet, & Scroll of Fire Storm, Ring of Archery,Hide Boots of Stamina, Ancient Nord Sword of Absorbing, Iron Garnet Circlet, Iron Sapphire Circlet, Grand Soul Gem (Filled), Glass Boots, Dwarven Sword, & Dwarven Shield
2x Common Soul Gem (Empty), Black Soul Gem (Empty), Elven Sword, Amethysts, Potions of Plentiful Magicka, Scroll of Conjure Familiar, & Scroll of Magelight
3x Glowing Mushrooms, Potions of Minor Stamina, Flawless Sapphires, Gold Necklace, Iron Necklace, Petty Soul Gem (Filled), & Potions of Minor Magicka
4x Spider Eggs, Garnets, & Common Soul Gem (Filled)
5x Lesser Soul Gem (Filled)
7x Vampires Dust
8x Iron Arrows & Ancient Nord Arrows
9x Potions Of Minor Healing
12x Black Soul Gem (Filled)
Weight: 95.21 KG / 580 KG
Septims: 83,277