4E 201, Whiterun
Gerron Ironbreaker
"That'll be four hundred septims, my good man." The sleazy looking merchant smiled at him with pearly white teeth. Gerron blinked at the number, narrowing his eyes.
"Four hundred? No no, two hundred. I specifically asked for a gemstone already appraised."
Belethor's oily grin didn't falter. "Yes well, the appraiser herself needed to be paid for, not to mention the back breaking work of transporting the precious stone to and fro Old Fralia's shop—her knees aren't what they used to be. I'm just trying to keep commerce flowing in these difficult times."
Belethor's General Goods Store was appropriately named, for it was indeed a store where every bit of merchandise from the nine holds of Skyrim would be available. Whiterun was a trading powerhouse, mainly due to its central location in the lands of Skyrim.
It was here he decided to seek the gem of crystal worth two hundred septims to create his Homunculus Servant. But said owner of the store proved to be a capable haggle.
After a few more minutes of back and forth, Gerron managed to reduce the four hundred to a sum of three hundred and twenty septims. Still mind bogglingly expensive, but it was something. Gerron sighed as he handed over the coin. His coin pouch felt lighter. His pride, heavier.
"Much obliged." Belethor nodded with that same sleazy smile.
Gerron shook his head as he tucked the crystal away into his satchel, already picturing the next step of lacing the crystal with runes and sculpting it into the shape of a small skull.
He had passed the hardest step of procuring the rare crystal. While it wasn't so expensive, the crystal had to be imbued with magical receptivity, a rare trait in a crystal Belethor had somehow acquired, likely by means Gerron really didn't want to know.
After all, Gerron had noticed the small mark carved onto the wood of his shop. Any trader who had worked in Riften would know of what it meant.
Whiterun bustled as he stepped back into the main street. Even two days after the Dragon Hunt, as people called it, celebrations were still going strong. Streamers still hung across the market, fluttering in the breeze. Ale casks were being rolled toward the Gildergreen for yet another round of public celebration. Laughter echoed through the square as a crowd gathered around Mikael—the bard who frequents the Bannered Mare—spinning tales of the event.
According to him, Gerron had leapt onto the beast's back and wrestled it from the sky with nothing but his fists, while Kiera had slashed through the neck of the dragon with a sword glowing a brilliant gold. The real story was far less romantic—and far more exhausting.
The dragon's bones and scales had just finished being carried from the watchtower and were now being carted up to Dragonsreach for the court wizard to research. Farengar was a capable mage and an even better scholar.
Gerron had half a mind to request some of the bones as his own spoils. His Artificer System was going wild for the things he could make with many of the dragon's parts.
The dragon's eyes, blood, and heart were powerful alchemical ingredients. Its nails and teeth would make sharp blades and scales would make good armor. Not to mention the potential of the dragon's bones for armor and bows.
But seeing their size truly made the victory feel surreal. He could still feel the dragon's weight in his hands, the strain in his arms when he cracked its neck. The dread he could feel when that damn gold dragon crushed him.
But he hadn't misstepped. And now? Now the people called him the Dragonslayer. It was a cool name, but he'd honestly then call him the Artificer instead. Zenithar's gift was the true reason why he survived.
The Companions had offered him lodging in Jorrvaskr after the battle—honorable and generous—but Gerron had opted instead for the Bannered Mare. The Jarl had seen to it that his room and board would be covered by the city's coffers. He wasn't going to turn that down.
Besides, the ale was better here. And the beds softer.
He descended the stairs of the inn the next morning, scratching his beard and wondering if he'd finally get a day without someone trying to hand him a child to bless or a tankard to chug. That's when he spotted Kiera, seated near the hearth.
She wasn't in armor—just a woolen doublet of earthen brown and a well-worn travel cloak clasped at the shoulder. Her snow white hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and around her neck gleamed the Amulet of Stendarr that she never seemed to take off. The firelight caught the markings etched on the amulet, marking her as a Vigilant.
She was a beauty and a fine warrior to boot. Gerron was proud to call her a friend.
Gerron approached and waved to Saadia, the Redguard maid who ran the floor with a quiet dignity and a sharp glare that kept hands where they belonged. She offered a small nod and went to fetch breakfast for him.
"Morning," he said, pulling a chair beside Kiera. "What are you reading?"
"Oh, this." She turned the book, allowing him to see the title. The Book of the Dragonborn.
"Ah, a good read." Gerron chuckled as Saadia returned with plates of trencher bread, roasted venison, eggs, and a thick slice of goat cheese. Gerron dug in eagerly. "How are you handling things?"
Kiera looked into the fire. "Pretty well, I think. Just… hard to wrap my head around the idea that I'm supposed to be this warrior of legend."
He followed her gaze and saw the tension in her posture—the slight furrow in her brow.
Just then, two children burst into the tavern behind them. They paused when they spotted her and whispered excitedly to each other.
"That's her! That's the Dragonborn!"
The younger of the two pointed, eyes wide.
Kiera flushed and quickly looked back at her book, trying to appear unbothered.
Gerron leaned back in his chair. "Don't take it too seriously," he said. "No one expects you to charge off and slay every dragon from here to Solstheim. You just found out about everything and haven't even begun your training. These things take time."
Kiera grimaced. "I'm not sure we have time. We were lucky back then. What if the other holds—or even the hundreds of defenseless villages—get visited by dragons even bigger than Mirmulnir or Silklovkul? How do we stop them then?"
Gerron scratched his beard. "I guess we might have to come up with some ways to combat them without relying on you every time. I'm proof enough that it doesn't have to be your hand that does the killing."
He reached into his pouch and pulled out the crystal he bought from Belethor, holding it up in the light. A smile appeared on his face. "I've got some ideas. I told you I was an artificer, right? We'll get ready. You train, and I'll build. Let's face these dragons together."
Kiera's eyes widened slightly before a small relieved small appeared on her face. "Thank you, Gerron. Truly."
Gerron tilted his head at that. Kiera was young, younger than him by a few years at least. This must all feel like a weight she never asked for and wasn't sure she could carry.
Before she could answer, the tavern doors swung open again, Irileth walked through the doors and scanned the room until her eyes landed on them. Kiera. Gerron. The Jarl invites you to Dragonsreach. There is much to discuss."
…
Dragonsreach
Kiera Fendalyn
The echo of their boots followed them up the winding steps into Dragonsreach. Kiera moved in silence beside Gerron, her fingers tightening around the straps of her cloak. The towering hall of the palace loomed above them—timber beams like ribs of an ancient beast, sunlight streaming through the narrow stained-glass windows like watchful eyes.
The guards who flanked the massive doors opened it at Irileth's nod. The housecarl led them to an area above the main hall, where a massive map of Skyrim was set over a table.
Jarl Balgruuf sat on his high seat, flanked by his brother Hrongar, Commander Caius, and Farengar, who was currently busy transcribing the texts of an ancient tome regarding dragons.
They were already mid-discussion when Irileth gestured them forward. "My Jarl. Kiera Fendalyn and Gerron Ironbreaker."
Jarl Balgruuf stood, motioning them closer. "Thank you for coming so quickly. Sit, if you wish. We've much to discuss."
Kiera bowed slightly, eyes scanning the faces of Skyrim's power players. Hrongar was here as the Master-at-arms of Whiterun. Caius, the commander of the guard sporting the usual armor. Farengar, the Court Wizard sitting on one of the chairs didn't even glance at them as he was busy scribbling something down with a charcoal stick on yellowed parchment.
"I'll get to the point," Balgruuf continued. "That dragon was not the last. Grim news has reached us, Rorikstead has burned, with the survivors escaping in every direction. All the major holds in Skyrim have finally taken the dragon's return seriously. While we might have repelled the first attack, there's no telling whether they would return with greater numbers. Whiterun is exposed. We need options. Defenses. Ideas."
That was when Gerron perked up. She watched him with something bordering on envy. If only she shared some of that confidence.
"I've thought long and hard about the dragon's potential weaknesses. Ballistas," he said plainly. "Arrows pierced the dragon's wings, but it took a lot of us—and luck. Ballistas would give us better odds. Mounted on the walls with trained crews, they could tear through a beast's wing mid-flight."
Commander Caius crossed his arms, considering. "We'd need to hire skilled arbalists, blacksmiths, carpenters, and more iron than we've got. But… aye. It's feasible."
Hrongar grunted. "We'd need to train the garrison to operate them. Whiterun's never needed siege weapons before."
"And we'll need armor that can withstand fire," Gerron added, turning to Farengar. "Have you studied the dragon bones and scales yet?"
"I've only just received them," the wizard replied, reluctantly setting down his quill. "But the material is promising. The bones are light, yet harder than tempered steel. The scales are fire-resistant… naturally."
Gerron nodded. "I'd like to request my share."
Kiera blinked in surprise. "Your share?"
Balgruuf chuckled. "They're your spoils, Gerron—and Kiera's. I was the one planning to buy them off you. Not the other way around."
Gerron smiled faintly. "Then consider it accepted. I have plans myself on creating a few things that will be useful in taking down the dragons."
"Might I request you to join you in that endeavour?" Farengar questioned. "While I'm not a craftsman myself, I'm a capable enchanter and could help you in determining the dragon's properties."
"Of course." Gerron nodded.
Kiera let herself relax a little. For all the strangeness of the past few days, Gerron's calm presence had been a lifeline. 'He doesn't leave it all on my shoulders,' she realized.
She remembered his words from this morning. 'We'll get ready. You train, and I'll build.'
He said 'we.' Not 'you.'
The discussion continued. Farengar rose with a scroll in hand. "There's something else to consider. A source of knowledge, you could say. A friend of mine, from outside Whiterun. She's… eccentric. But she knows more about dragons than any living scholar."
Irileth scowled. "That woman again?"
Farengar didn't meet her eyes. "Yes. Her knowledge could prove invaluable in helping us prepare."
"She walks through Whiterun like she owns it," Irileth snapped. "Always talking about her 'ancient order,' as if that gives her the right to order around Jarls and captains. I never liked her."
"Granted, she's rough around the edges," Farengar conceded, coughing awkwardly. "But she's studied the return of dragons for decades. Let me write to her. At the very least, her insight could be—"
"Enough," Balgruuf said, lifting a hand. He was silent for a moment, gaze fixed on the banners swaying above them. Then he nodded. "Do it. But make it clear: she holds no authority in Whiterun. Any prancing or misdemeanors will not be tolerated. If she causes trouble, she'll be gone."
Farengar bowed. "Of course, my Jarl."
Kiera exhaled slowly as the meeting drew to a close.
Balgruuf gave them a final look. "Rest while you can. The days of peace in Skyrim are ending. With the dragons and the war, the next few years will be plentiful in conflict."
The others slowly filed out, their boots echoing against the marble floor.
Kiera lingered for a moment longer, looking out the tall window at the fields beyond Whiterun. The sky was clear today—no shadows on the clouds. No wings overhead.
Yet her heart was heavy.
Dragonborn. The word felt too large. Like a title borrowed from someone else's legend.
But then again, isn't it what she always wanted? To protect and serve, isn't that what the Dragonborn does?
She had read the book in full, and a particular line had interested her. Very few realize that being Dragonborn is not a simple matter of heredity - carrying the blessing of the Chief Divine, Akatosh Himself.
She would never say no to being blessed by the Divines. Hells, any Vigilant would do anything to even have an inkling of their blessings.
Speaking of blessings, Kiera's mind went back to the dream she had this morning. Of the special warmth that came from Stendarr when she saw Gerron. It could only mean one thing. He was blessed himself.
Which Divine had done it, she did not know. But it felt redeeming to know that she wasn't alone. It wasn't a weight she carried by herself.
And that made all the difference.
…
AN: We're gonna be spending a few days in Whiterun before going out on another adventure. The war is escalating as well as the dragon war. Alduin is cooking something up in the background, Ivarstead wasn't just a random target after all.
Also the little bit of AU I have here as to why Farengar never asked for the Dragonstone is because Delphine isn't as welcome in Whiterun as in Canon. Communication between them has strained so she never got the chance to request Farengar to look into the stones location.
Her arrogance has always been Delphine's greatest flaw, and Balgruuf was not one to tolerate it. However, that doesn't mean she's out of the picture. She's much too capable to be written off just like that.
Again, consider any inconsistencies with canon to be AU. While I scour the wiki almost daily to make sure everything stays proper to canon, there's bound to be mistakes some way.
As always, more chapters are available on my Pat_reon. Chapter 25 should be available by the time this chapter is posted. Just look up my name and you'll find me.
Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! Cheers!