Published at 27th of November 2022 2:22 am

Chapter 703: The Truth is…

This chapter is updated by NovelFree.ml

A/n: Help me reach my Goal on P4treon & Join Discord! ➡️ https://linktr.ee/donovel ⬅️

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It was the Dragonborn, Jon Dare, Ulfric Stormcloak, General Tullius, and Master Arngeir in addition to every Jarl and Jarl replacement from the game. In other words, the Ruling Class of Skyrim was now gathered.

“Now that everyone is here, please take a seat so that we can begin.” Master Arngeir spoke inviting the people to start.

And they were all about to sit down and start their peace negotiations except that when everyone took a seat, Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak and his commander Galmar Stone-Fist kept standing.

“No!” Ulfric declared while looking at General Tullius, “You insult us by bringing her to this negotiation. Your chief Talos-hunter!”

He declared disagreeable with the presence of Ambassador Elenwen of the Aldmeri Dominion, the head of the Thalmor in Skyrim and the one who carried out many bloody inquisitions against the worshippers of Talos.

“That didn’t take long.” Legate Rikke muttered to herself while rolling her eyes.

“Hear, hear!” Galmar stood behind Ulfric and nodded to his words.

“Diplomatic as usual.” Jarl Balgruuf sighed while shaking his head.

“I have every right to be at this negotiation.” Meanwhile, the Elf in question spoke up to defend herself, “I need to ensure that nothing is agreed to here that violates the terms of the White-Gold Concordat.”

“She’s part of the Imperial delegation. You can’t dictate who I bring to this council.” General Tullius had to stand up against Ulfric.

“Please. If we have to negotiate the terms of the negotiation, we will never get anywhere.” Master Arngeir pleaded with the two sides to calm down and then suggested a getaway method, “Perhaps this would be a good time to get the Dragonborn’s input on this matter.”

Just like that, all heads turned to the Dragonborn, the mysterious and silent warrior at the south of the negotiation table.

But the Dragonborn didn’t speak and only turned to the man to his right, Jon Dare. It seemed he was pushing Jon forward to solve this.

“Jarl Ulfric.” Jon Dare stood on his seat and met Ulfric eye to eye, “It may actually be a good thing for you to let her stay, for the whole negotiation at that.”

Jon’s opinion was to let Elenwen stay, a radical view from the man famed for massacring any Thalmor patrol he runs into.

“You, shut up! What gives you the right to talk when the Jarls are speaking?”

But out of literal buttfuck nowhere, a voice from the Imperial side made all eyes widen from shock and all heads turn to see who just cussed at Jon Dare.

It was none other than Jarl Siddgeir of Falkreath, someone known for his animosity with the Dare Company people.

“Jarl Siddgeir!” General Tullius was bothered a bit with that especially when it seemed that Jon was taking the Imperial side and letting Elenwen stay.

“Don’t stop me, General. Is it not enough for Jarls like us to sit back at these creaking benches while a Thane is taking a seat at the big table? Shouldn’t all the Jarls be provoked by such an outrage?” Siddgeir, however, couldn’t read the glares of General Tullius and kept going after Jon.

“Aye!” But before anyone would react, one more voice seemed to agree with Jarl Siddgeir, “A young brat like the Dare boy shouldn’t be sitting or speaking like that to his elders.”

It was none other than the other head of the anti-Dare faction, Jarl Skald the Elder of Dawnstar, a Stormcloak through and through.

While Ulfric wasn’t bothered by Skald’s opinion, he seemed curious about what Jon Dare was really after.

“Heh!” While trying to keep it to herself, Ambassador Elenwen couldn’t help but appear satisfied with the reaction to Jon’s words.

“I see.” On the other hand, Jon seemed to be nodding to the words he just heard, “I see that you all aren’t happy with little old me being a voice of reason in this piss and barking contest, you old dogs of war.”

Insults, that’s where Nordic politics truly shine. Jon, however, wasn’t done and seemed to be serving some good old homebrewed drama.

Jon’s words were provoking but it was clear he was inviting them to make enemies with him. Opposing him is one thing, making enemies is a whole new thing and it is terrifying. Right now, the two Civil War sides are totally equal and equally matched. If one were to tip Jon Dare towards the other side, that would be dangerously stupid.

Jarl Siddgeir of Falkreath and Jarl Skald of Dawnstar were this type of stupid. They were the stupid ones that wouldn’t shut up, however.

“Damn you, Jon Dare! You think we fear you like a lot of them?” Jarl Siddgeir spoke.

“Boy, you’re overstepping your authority here.” Jarl Skald added.

“That’s enough!” But it was Jarl Ulfric who had to shout at them and turn to Jon Dare who was instigating trouble before the talk was about to start, “Thane Jon, you were saying something?”

Jon smiled slyly while winking at Jarl Skald the Elder who didn’t seem appreciative of Jon’s provocations.

“Yes, I was saying something before I was rudely interrupted… what was it about again?” Jon asked while acting all dramatically.

“About the Thalmor bitch.” Jarl Ulfric spoke.

“Right, the Thalmor bitch.” Jon clasped his hands, “I was saying that it would actually be beneficial for both sides to let her stay.”

“And why is that?” Jarl Ulfric asked.

“That’s obvious! Since we are here to make a truce, we need someone to equally hate more than each other and spit at once the talk becomes too boring.” Jon said and turned to Elenwen with his wide grin, “That’s why the Thalmor bitch is here.”

For some reason, the faces of the entire Stormcloak faction eased up including that of Ulfric. He looked at Elenwen and realized that he hates her kind more than he hates the Imperials so if he thought straight about it, he found that Jon’s reasoning was sound.

Curse at the Thalmor instead of cursing at the Imperials to achieve peace. That was oddly reasonable.

“Fine.” Ulfric said and walked in front of his seat, “However, she is only here to observe. She has no right to speak in a Nordic council and her job doesn’t go beyond kicking those Imperials’ asses whenever they go out of their… concordat.”

Jon nodded and turned to General Tullius in order to gain his approval.

“Smooth as ever, Ulfric.” The General replied, “She won’t utter a thing so sit down and don’t waste more time.”

With that out of the way, everyone was already sitting and gathered around the table in the order of the chairs they took. Jon was still being eyed badly by his political opponents and his enemies.

“Is there anyone here who would like to start the conference or make a demand?” Master Arngeir asked as the organizer of this meeting.

“Before we do that, I have something to say.” Ulfric Stormcloak spoke.

“Here he goes again.” General Tullius was annoyed out of his mind as he put down the tankard he was about to drink from and sat back while staring at Ulfric.

“Go on.” Master Arngeir let Ulfric speak.

“By no means do I doubt the wisdom and the fairness of the Greybeards. I also thank them for taking us, men of violence and war, into their abode of peace and solitude. Rare are the events that lead the guardians of Skyrim to rise up and guide us Nords. They are the great monks of High Hrothgar whose senses transcend the falsehoods of magic and the images of illusions. With that out of the way, I want to ask the Dragonborn a question.” Ulfric spoke and turned to the Dragonborn.

Seeing that he initiated his talk by saying that he trusts the wisdom of the Greybeards, it seemed that he was the one going after the Dragonborn before anything else. Such a move was almost as challenging to the Greybeards as if he was respecting them.

“You are Nord, I can see it. Obviously you were given this power by the Divines and you care for Skyrim and her children, why else would you fight the Dragons and their Cultists in a war of your own? Still, what I can’t figure out is the reason why you are wearing this suit of armor. The one with the Imperial Dragon plated on it.” Ulfric pointed out the Imperial crest on the Dragonborn’s armor.

The Dragonborn was momentarily silent and looked down his own chest before gently feeling the Imperial Dragon crest on his armor.

“That armor is the Lord’s Mail, the legendary suit of armor that was…” Jon Dare pointed out and started speaking but he was immediately interrupted.

“Thane Jon.” Ulfric Stormcloak spoke in a tone that wasn’t joking around, “I believe that you can leave the man to speak for himself. It is he who invited us here, not you. If the Dragonborn doesn’t wish to exchange words with us, I believe there is no point in us even sitting here.”

Not only was Ulfric giving that look to Jon, but all the Stormcloak Jarls were also not pleased with how Jon was handling things. Even General Tullius and the Imperial side seemed to be agreeing with Ulfric.

They won’t stay if the Dragonborn doesn’t speak.

“I see…” Jon nodded and smiled awkwardly, “I believe this prank has gone for much longer than it should have.”

No one really understood what his words meant but in the next very second, the Dragonborn cleared his throat and spoke up.

“As you say, Jarl Ulfric.” The Dragonborn sat more firmly towards the table and under his horned helm which he refused to take off, two blue eyes shone coldly.

To the left of the Dragonborn, Jarl Balgruuf the Greater let out a long tired sigh. He somehow foresaw the coming part of Jon’s plan since in this room, only four people knew what was really going on.

“So, Dragonborn.” Jarl Ulfric spoke, “Do I need to repeat the question?”

“No need.” The Dragonborn replied with a little grin, “I simply wear something General Tullius has tossed in my way in order to reel me to his Imperial Camp. Funny enough, this legendary armor was cursed and I had to turn to Lady Alina of House Dare to lift its curse for me.”

“So the Empire tried to inflict harm upon the Dragonborn?” Galmar Stone-Fist asked with rage filling his deep and rough voice, “So it’s true. Those Imperial Dogs were afraid of a Dragonborn from Skyrim ascending the Imperial Throne.”

“Way too smart for you, Galmar.” Legate Rikke retorted, “Was it Ulfric who taught you that line?”

“Shut your trap, woman.” Galmar replied and banged the table with his fist.

“Friends, please!” But the Dragonborn raised his arms aside to calm the two commanders down, “The Empire simply threw a bait for me so I can go to them and ask them if I can wear it. I am sure you all know the real story. Let’s not beat around the bush and try to frame each other for mindless things. As usual, I plan to stay neutral in this discussion. My armor is just another thing I wear, nothing more.”

Unlike what is widely known, the Dragonborn seemed to be quite the speaker. He can calm down two war dogs like Galmar and Rikke and still keep a light smile on his face.

“Just another thing you wear?” But the one who didn’t let this one go was Jarl Siddgeir of Falkreath, “Why if it is not the treasure of the Imperial Legion. You should be thankful this protects your hide against Dragons.”

“Indeed I am thankful.” The Dragonborn replied, “Just like how I am thankful for Eorlund Grey-Mane who made me this Skyforge Sword and Wulfur who made me this Helm. But as I said, there are just things I wear and they won’t be held leverage against me doing what is best for Skyrim and her children.”

“Well said, Dragonborn.” Jarl Ulfric nodded to the Dragonborn and seemed satisfied with the answer. He was even about to move on and start to talk peace with the Imperial now but it seemed that someone wasn’t done talking.

“So to assure you all that I am partial, I am going to remove this armor off me, as well as that sword and that helm.” The Dragonborn said.

Everyone present in the room felt off and all looked at him awkwardly.

“Dragonborn, there is no need to strip in such a place.” Jarl Bryling spoke up.

“Oh, no worries. I am wearing a decent layer of clothes under it.” The Dragonborn put his sword on the table in front of him and started undoing the straps of his armor suit.

“…”

It was a long awkward moment seeing a man stand up and take off his armor. He even asked Jon Dare and Jarl Balgruuf to help him with the straps tied at his back.

As he said, he remained in his normal clothing which he wore under the cuirass of the Lord’s Mail. Once he was done, he put it next to the sword on the table and then sat back down.

Then it was time to remove the Helm.

As the Dragonborn was standing, Jon stood in front of him with his back to everyone else in the room. All Jon needed to do was to take off the helm for the Dragonborn and then step aside.

And he did just that.

He removed the Helm, took one step to the side, and stood behind the Dragonborn.

And it was silence that followed.

The Dragonborn that stood in front of them… or the one who was supposed to be the Dragonborn… that wasn’t him.

“How the…” Legate Rikke had something to say but she wasn’t sure where to begin.

“What is the meaning of this?” General Tullius, on the other hand, was already standing and glaring at the sight he saw.

There was also Jarl Bryling of Solitude who kept her brows furrowed while trying to comprehend the situation in front of them.

There was a familiar face on that of the Dragonborn, certainly it was not the one the three of them once saw in Solitude. It was a face that shouldn’t be there.

Moreover, when Jon Dare turned around, his face… translucent. No, his entire body was getting translucent as if it was all made of animated crystal-like liquid.

“Thanks, Venus.” The Dragonborn spoke and as he put his hand on the shoulder of the translucent body that was once Jon Dare, the body started to shrink and retreat to the Dragonborn’s until it finally became a small thumb-sized crystal gem.

“What the fuck?” And as someone reacted that way, the entire room fell into an uproar.

“Sorcery! What sort of sorcery did we just see?” Another spoke.

“This lying wizard! I always told you he can’t be trusted!” Jarl Siddgeir started pointing fingers immediately.

“Jon Dare was acting as the Dragonborn from the start. Talos knows if there was really a Dragonborn, to begin with.” Even Jarl Skald started to shout some nonsense.

This uproar caused a feeling of unease to strike the key figures gathered around the negotiation table. The General was looking left and right and expecting something to come up and attack them and right opposite to him was Ulfric Stormcloak, who was calculating something in his head.

If one was calm in this situation, one would see that only a few people were also calm. Jarl Balgruuf the Greater, Delphine and Esbern of the Blades, and Master Arngeir. Those four were clearly aware of something. Ulfric Stormcloak was actually calm and caught on to the situation.

Jarl Balgruuf the Greater was one of the first recorded people to recognize the Dragonborn to be one. The Blades had a reputation of being Dragonborn fanatics across history, and Master Arngeir is an elder of the Greybeards who are interested in guiding the Dragonborn.

By default, the Greybeards should be aware of the true identity of the Dragonborn, the Blades should have done the impossible to contact him, and Jarl Balgruuf, who appointed the Dragonborn and Jon Dare as Thanes on the same day, should also be in on the secret.

“Damn!” All Ulfric could do was exclaim.

But Ulfric wasn’t the only one who caught on to the situation. Ambassador Elenwen of the Aldmeri Dominion connected the dots together. She gathered a lot of information on the Greybeards and deduced that they are Master of the arcane art of the Voice as well as many forms of Spellcasting. In other words, the Greybeards are Master and Arch-Wizards.

“Jarl Ulfric has stated that the senses of the Greybeards transcend falsehood and illusions. When that man walked into the monastery after me, he was addressed as Dragonborn.” Elenwen thought out loud but it was loud enough for some to hear her and recite what she just said.

The Greybeards greeted Jon Dare as Dragonborn!

Now that’s something to disbelieve, something to fear, something to dread.

Jon Dare is not possibly the Dragonborn… or is he?

No way!

As if he needed more excuses to be more powerful.

That’s just a hoax!

Everyone then turns to Master Arngeir so that he can tell them this is not true.

“Dragonborn.” Master Arngeir spoke with a hint of impatience, “I hope you are not gathering this council so that you can do your big reveal.”

“Apologies, Master Arngeir.” Jon Dare the Dragonborn replied with a faint smile, “I simply realized that in order to gain the trust of those who are gathered here for peace, no more masks and false identities are needed. I should only offer them the truth.”

Jon walked back to his seat and put the Helm of the Dragonborn between the Lord’s Mail and the Skyforge Sword.

“And the truth is…” Jon halted his words and looked up with his lips almost twitching into a full grin, “I’m the Dragonborn.”

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A/n: Help me reach my Goal on P4treon & Join Discord! ➡️ https://linktr.ee/donovel ⬅️

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