Published at 30th of July 2022 8:28 am

Chapter 648 - Recipe For Disaster

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(Part 1)

"And for my first order as the Jarl of Solitude, I hereby appoint Jonhild Firemane, known to the public as Jon Dare, a Thane of Haafingar with all the rights to operate as a first-class law-enforcing official in this realm. The second who will gain this title is the Dragonborn whose name shall be withheld from the public due to security reasons. May the Light of the Divine bless you all and bless Haafingar."

Jarl Bryling of Solitude made the speech on the gates of the Blue Palace after she put her sword to rest and carried a hammer to fix the Palace's broken gate.

She was still with the hammer in her hand when a message came from the Elder Council that she was recommended for the seat of Jarl and was approved by the Emperor immediately.

Bryling kneeled before the Imperial Decree, issued Jon's title of a Thane, then turned back to hammer the dent on the gate as if nothing happened.

Jon heard the news when he was on the Dockyard overseeing the business reopening of the East Empire Trading Company office.

This time, the Company officers were waiting for his orders to start running their business.

"I guess my work here is done." Behind him, Thane Brina Merilis stood with still the same look in her eyes.

"I guess so." Jon said.

She was here taking a boat back to Dawnstar when she ran into Jon. Strange enough, this woman would rather headbutt than avoid him.

"It is a shame. You can stay here and be of good use to Bryling." Jon couldn't help but smear his salt.

"She is an upright woman, much more than I can ever be. Sadly, she is delusional like the rest of them." Brina said.

"You hate me this much?" Jon asked.

"Because you are by no means upright. You are not a bad person Jon Dare, I know that well or you would have never succeeded. But you don't care about the small people beneath."

"Is that so?" Jon asked, "Last I checked, Winterhold doesn't even have slums and Dawnstar's situation is just because someone is being as stubborn as an old goat."

"You see it wrong." Brina said, "What you see is that so long they work under you, it is all fine. Tell me Jon Dare, can I just be a small person, go into Winterhold, buy a shop, and run a smithy?"

"If you…"

"Before you answer, no one can." Brina said, "Because no one can rival the Dare Industries. A workshop that houses 70 Smithing Experts and makes them work with machines and tools, not a random smith can even acquire. Not even the great Eorlund Grey-Mane with a legendary forge can hold a candle to the Dare Industries anymore." Brina continued, "Not even Arcadia the Healer Alchemist of Whiterun is as good as the Dare Pharmacy. No mercenary in Skyrim is better equipped than a Dare Corp Mercenary. Not a single merchant is as fast as a Dare Ship or a Dare Caravan. Then they start losing business and fall into debt before they run around to who? To you, Jon Dare. You give them money, own half their business, and call it investment then all of a sudden, they just fall in love with you again. You see why, Jon Dare?"

"My methods of helping people are flawed?" Jon asked.

"No, they are almost flawless. So flawless you start missing the flaws that we were used to. When was the last time I saw two blacksmiths competing with each other over whose craft is better or two alchemists pranking each other with their brews? Where did that spirit go? Now, they all work to meet your supply and demand ratios with soulless eyes and pockets full of your gold… and something tells me you know what I am talking about too well."

Then she left on a longboat that was conveniently setting off just as she got in.

"I do know it too damn well." Jon sighed and sat on a crate watching the sea.

"Nevermind her, son." But Jonrad was there already drinking and offering his son a bottle, "All you've done was push those people forward to have better lives."

"Heh!" Jon smiled, "What are you up to?"

"Nothing." Jonrad replied, "Think of it as drinking with an old friend I don't really want to see."

Jonrad raised his bottle towards the Emperor's ship sitting at the mouth of the river.

"Any chance his first name is Titus?" Jon asked.

"Yeah. Used to work for him. You know how it ended." Jonrad said.

"He called me Jonrad when he saw me and I couldn't help but feel my stomach…" Jon said.

"Urgh!" Even Jonrad made that face.

The two turned around and spat in the river.

"God, I must have looked horrible when I was young."

"God, I must have had my face smeared with shit in the fight."

"Jo… Jorna… Jornaaad!" A drunken Nord man walked to him, "Daym… I see… four of you now!"

"That's a drinking buddy of mine I just met." Jonrad introduced, "His name is… I don't remember. Hands-Fuck-Beard or something similar, I dunno anymore."

"That's an Argonian name." Jon said.

"The only thing you take after me son is your tolerant attitude with other races." Old Jon praised Young Jon.

Jon pushed the drunken man away with a stick into a boat and the man went to sleep.

"Whatever!" Jon said, "So old comrades are bringing you down here just to drink with the drunken sailors."

"It is a custom to drink for three days after surviving a battle, boy." Jonrad said.

"Thank Goodness it is ending tonight then. And I don't get drunk anymore." Jon said and threw the bottle away.

"That woman frustrated you, huh?" Jonrad asked.

"Well… you know how it goes. I hate those memories."

"What memories?"

"Past life."

"You used to brag about them."

"I still do. I just don't like bad ones."

"Bad ones?"

"Being a powerless man… not being able to make a difference… everything is planned for me to do… hating that I'm worth nothing and my fate is in the hands of someone stronger, richer, and sleeps with enough women to make a pimp cry from jealousy."

"Now you're bragging." Jonrad chuckled, "But after that illusion realm you created for your past life. I see that it is too much for a person to bear sometimes. Too much in life you just forget it was all once this simple."

"Yeah. It seems I made too much progress and it upsets some people."

"But your past was a low-ranking law person. You didn't have the blood of your father like you have now or your family."

"I'm not talking about being a lawyer." Jon said, "I was talking about the exact thing you said after it."

Jonrad found his son's words puzzling for the first time.

"I became a lawyer out of my… rebellion against a father." Jon said, "He was my father alright but he was no family."

It was almost the first time Jon talked in detail about his past self.

"A father… but not family."

"Yeah… me and him with a big ass house and endless money. I just had to follow everything I was told. Be the perfect fiddle." Jon said.

"It is like I am getting to know about you for the first time." Jonrad said, "So you experienced life as a privileged child. Why did you turn out to be a poor wuss?"

"That takes us to the woman who was supposed to be my mother."

"How so?"

"Let's just say that having two mothers in this life is probably a compensation from the Heavens since I never knew who she was."

"You made the drink taste like shit now." Jonrad said.

"It always does."

"I know that I am your father, boy, no doubt. But to the other you in there… that man may have been your father, but he was never your daddy." Jonrad said in a state of drunken pride.

"You know what… I'm just too tired to lay the Itchy Curse on you." Jon said and walked away.

"Wait… Itchy Curse… the other day… that was you?"

Jon didn't listen and walked away fast but Nefertiti appeared before him.

"Something happened, hooman." She said.

"Alright." Jon crouched down, "Take me there."

The two disappeared via teleporting and after they did, a bottle was smashed at where Jon stood.

"Damn you… stupid lawyer son! You lawyers always make people feel itchy… bring shame upon your ancestors! Oblivion takes you all."

***

(Part 2)

"Master, you said that the future should unfold this way. But it didn't."

Beth offered Jon a timeline of her monitoring operation.

"This is… strange!"

"That's why I asked Nefertiti to tell you."

"Good job, girls."

"Can we go play now?" Nefertiti asked as she jumped on the paper at Jon's hand.

"Beth, you can have a break until tomorrow. And you kitty cat will also take a break before we can head out." Jon passed Nefertiti to Beth and started to compare his information with the report.

The Dark Brotherhood is Jon's next playground but it seemed that the unexpected happened.

In the Game, after taking the contract on the Emperor's Head from Amaund Motierre, the player has to kill three figures in order to approach the Emperor.

First, Vittoria Vici, the Emperor's Cousin. Once she gets butchered in her wedding, the Emperor will be obliged to attend her funeral.

Second, Gaius Maro, son of Commander Maro of the Imperial Secret Service and head of the Emperor's security. By killing him and planting false evidence on his body, the Emperor will understand that the attempt was failed, alienate Commander Maro whose son is a traitor, and have a fake sense of peace as his assassination attempt was already foiled.

Third, the Gourmet, an enigmatic cook whose skills are second to none on Tamriel. This man was supposed to cook for the Emperor by his request. Once the cook is killed, the assassin will pose as the cook and poison the Emperor.

The problem doesn't lie in any of the three but between the second and the third. Once the player is done with the second, a situation will occur in the Sanctuary of the Dark Brotherhood where the Keeper of the Night Mother, the jester called Cicero, will attempt to attack the leader of the Sanctuary, Astrid, and injures the Assassin Veezara instead.

After that happens, the player will have to chase after Cicero all the way to Dawnstar and deal with him. The player then takes the third kill on their hit list.

But what went wrong was the fact that Cicero didn't do anything. Meaning that unlike the game, this Cicero behaved out of line, and Serana, the one posing as the Listener proceeded to the third kill and isn't too far from the Gourmet's location.

"The Gourmet must live."

Jon immediately donned Greed as a cloak, called all his artifacts from around the Golden Dragon Isle, and opened a portal to the Nightgate Village.

Serana's signal wasn't too far to the west and Jon had to deal with things before she would do anything. He walked immediately to the Nightgate Inn and looked around the place.

"Huh! You're here, Captain?" The Voice of an old man reacted to Jon's appearance in the inn.

"Old Fultheim, I am the son, not the father. I told you last time to go visit the Dare Pharma and get your sight checked."

"Bah! A brat with an attitude." Said Fultheim, who is a regular at the Nightgate Inn and a friend to Jon's parents as well as the one who delivered him to Riften when he was about 1 year old along with Hilda. (Chapter 3)

"Old man, a quick question." Jon walked in the empty and started pouring some oatmeal in a plate before putting it in front of Fultheim, "You didn't happen to see an Orc lodging in this inn. Seems like a rich guy."

"Yeah, he takes the room in the cellar for some weird reason. He is out picking herbs so wait for him." Fultheim said.

"I would love to but I have to get to him before the others do. Will tell father you said hey." Jon pushed himself up and left.

"Suit yourself."

Jon hurried out and looked around the roadside in order to find the Gourmet who is an Orc. The place seemed empty so he utilized a spell to look for the man in question and there he was.

But he wasn't alone. There, Jon could see a man talking to the Gourmet and the two were very engrossed in their conversation.

"But for how much longer?" The Orc asked, "I have long since run out of ingredients to experiment on."

"Master Balagog, we promise you it will be within a week at the very most. This will help you establish your goals as well as ours." The other man replied who seemed to be a Breton after a further inspection.

"You people approached me with this proposition first. I really appreciate your patronage but I have a lot to get done and this barren wasteland has nothing left to offer. If you don't come to me in one week, I will leave for Solitude right away." The Orc raised his tone

"I understand. Please, meet us in Solitude after six days to give us time to prepare. If you go to Winterhold, you can take a fast ship to Solitude from there." The Breton said.

"I see. Be on your way then." The Orc agreed at the end.

This conversation was between the Gourmet and an Agent of an Imperial Faction. Jon guessed the Agent should either be a member of the Penitus Oculatus or one of Amaund Motierre's men.

In any case, Jon waited for the Orc to start heading back to the Nightgate Inn. On the road to the inn, Jon sat on a stone and had a bowl of green soup on his left hand. In his right, he carried a piece of bread that he would dip in the soup and eat from in supreme ecstasy.

"That is an interesting smell, my friend." And the terrifying voice of an Orc woke Jon from his dream.

"Yes, it is." Jon opened his eyes peacefully and agreed with the Orc.

"Are you sharing?" The Orc asked.

"Always." Jon nodded.

Jon offered a loaf of bread to the Orc who sat beside him and dipped it in the soup bowl just as Jon did.

"Hmmm… I like the spices… and the main ingredient leaves a strong breath too… a bit southern."

"Jute mellows."

"I see… finely diced… pretty rare outside Cyrodiil and Valenwood." The Orc nodded, "It had garlic and was made in chicken broth."

"Indeed. I prefer more broth than the usual recipe though." Jon said, "Salt, pepper, and vegetable oil to finish this spell."

"Simple yet marvelous. I say the secret is in the broth." The Orc said.

"Damn right." Jon laughed, "Normally people use beef and chicken broth but nothing can rival a rabbit broth."

"Do you happen to be the Gourmet by any chance? Hahahaha!" The Orc laughed loudly.

"No. That's you, silly! Hahahaha!" Jon laughed harder and clapped hands with the Orc.

Then the two stared at each other with their smiles disappearing.

"Damn!" The Orc said and offered a handshake, "I am not supposed to reveal this but you can call me Balagog gro-Nolob."

"Nice to meet." Jon shook hands with Balagog.

"And you are?"

"You can call me Daedric Prince of all Cuisines." Jon said.

"Ah!"

"People call me Jon Dare."

"Aha! The Jon Dare?" Balagog asked.

"Am I that famous?" Jon asked before laughing it off, "Yes, I am."

"Well, it is an honor to finally meet you, sir. I truly didn't imagine a dish this fine to originate from the freezing north."

"You mean this Molokhya? No, it doesn't originate from here. Nords have no taste buds last time I checked."

"Wow! So true. Neither do Orcs sadly."

"You and I are kindred souls in this harsh world, Balagog."

"So where does this Molokhya originate from?"

"Heaven."

"And does Heaven have a name or an address?"

"Heard of Egypt before?"

"No."

"That's that then."

"Well, Lord Jon Dare, it was a pleasure." Balagog the Gourmet said and stood up, "If you excuse me."

"Are you going to cook for the Emperor?" Jon asked.

The Orc froze for a second before turning towards Jon.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Sir." Balagog replied.

"If you stay here, the Emperor's enemies will try and get to you." Jon said.

"I made sure that my identity is a secret, my Lord. Well… that until you found me. But I am sure I am of no use to someone like you." Balagog insisted.

"I know. You are of no use to the point where even only your contact knows your actual identity. And so, any man can claim that they are the Gourmet if they have your identity papers… which of course you keep as a secret."

"What are you saying, sir?"

"I am saying that they will kill you, impersonate your identity, and poison his Imperial Majesty Titus Mede II." Jon said.

"That's…" Balagog felt heavy in his heart and looked wary at Jon then at the bowl he was holding.

"What?" Jon felt offended, "Why would I poison you? I want to save the Emperor, you dolt."

Jon swallowed the soup in one go and threw the bowl.

"You need to run and I am here to help you get away. An asset such as yourself is too valuable to die here." Jon said.

"I… I can't." Balagog said.

"Why not?" Jon stood up.

"Because… for my dream to come true, I need the Emperor." Balagog said.

"What dream?" Jon asked.

"As you already know, I am the Gourmet, and I am an Orsimer." Balagog said, "People would assume the Gourmet is a Bosmer or even a Breton but an Orc, that would be impossible."

"So?"

"So in order to prove myself and my cooking, I need the Emperor to recognize who I am and from there, no one will look down on me because of my race. No one expects an Orc to be a cook, but an Orc that cooked for the Emperor, that's a different story."

"So your secret identity isn't because you're a mystery junkie but just a confidence issue."

"Confidence? You can kill me but you better not insult me. I've learned to cook in the most prestigious kitchens in Elden Root, my confidence can reach the Throat of the World. It is people that need to stop with their stereotypes and know that Anyone can Cook. An Argonian, a Nord, an Orc, a Rat… or even a Dunmer."

"Well, let's not go that far with Dunmer."

"Yeah, you're right… but I need to build a reputation first then gain support to open the best Restaurant in the Imperial City."

Balagog gro-Nolob seemed to have a lofty goal that even Jon can't ignore.

"So no matter what killer is coming, I can't back down here."

"I see… so… you want a Hype Master then?" Jon asked.

"A what?"

"A Professional Hustler… an Advertising Manager… a Popularity Campaign…" Jon explained.

"What's that?" Balagog asked.

"That my friend is a very serious business that I personally do. If you allow me to accompany you to Winterhold, you will have the Greatest Showman in Tamriel hustling for your Restaurant."

Jon joined interlocked arms with Balagog gro-Nolob and led him towards Winterhold.

Historians recorded that in a few years of this meeting, the chain restaurants of BFC (Balagog's Flavors Cuisine) became one of the most successful Tamriel-wide businesses associated with the Dare Investment plan. Its symbol, the Gentlemanly Smiling Orc, has become so widespread that most Orcs were always stereotyped as natural chefs.

***

Serana was well aware that the man who was standing in front of the Nightgate Inn's entrance was Jon, the person who has been moving her strings for a while now.

She expected to see him soon especially after the situation in Solitude but the latest rumor about him saving the city from a Dragon Cult attack was everywhere.

Also, he seemed like he was waving for her even though she made sure to never reveal herself yet.

"You seem angry at me." Jon spoke from a distance but with her heightened senses, Serana could hear him as if they were standing next to each other.

Serana walked at a normal pace to Jon and as she reached him, she looked at him and seemed greatly displeased.

"I have been doing Astrid's biddings for long enough." She said,

"True." Jon nodded.

"I came for you to stop my father. I know what you're doing is important and there are Dragons and the Emperor's life is on the line… but I didn't sign up to do any of this." Serana stated.

"And?" He asked

"I want out." She said,

Seeing the look on Jon's face change and him walking towards her, Serana didn't really fear him but couldn't predict what he would do.

"Will you be satisfied if I come with you and finish this once and for all?" Jon asked.

"I don't want to interrupt whatever important business you have going on. I know you are a Dragonborn and you managed to obtain two Elder Scrolls. I also know that you can protect yourself from my father but he will keep coming."

"I know." Jon nodded.

"Then? Are you letting me go?"

"Have I ever held you against your will, Serana?" Jon asked, "You could have walked away long ago and the time you spent among the Assassins surely have served you well. You are no longer helpless or needing help. You are beautiful, lethal, resourceful, and powerful. You could have walked away long ago."

"But you wouldn't let me."

"…" Jon felt that Serana was having another inner struggle and denying her own ability to proceed on her own if she wanted to.

"Let me ask you about that woman of yours, the one that used to be an Assassin." Serana spoke.

"Psycho? Did she do anything to you?" Jon asked.

"She planted my face to the ground when we ran into each other in Riften once." Serana then asked, "That was you sending her after me, wasn't it?"

"It wasn't." Jon denied.

"… To be honest, I lost a great deal of trust in your words since that night." Serana said.

"I am actually not surprised you ran into each other. Jullanar oversees my interests in the Thieves Guild in Riften and she picked up the hobby of hunting Vampires for the Dawnguard. But this is my first time hearing that you two ran into each other before Solitude." Jon said, "On the other hand, you seem to have been doing problems, Cute Little Fangs. Psycho wouldn't have targeted you unless you showed your nature as a Vampire and left a witness."

"…" Serana couldn't say anything since Jon wasn't wrong.

"How about this to restore trust between us." Jon smiled, "I'll drop off whatever I'm doing and go deal with the Dark Brotherhood situation together."

Jon's made Serana extremely worried with his proposition but if he is finally planning on taking his Role as the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood, she has nothing to complain about.

And so, the plan of assassinating the Emperor started to go in a clear motion.

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