Down with the old Blades we need New Blades

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I normally don't mess with this topic, but I wrote something for my own amusement and just decided to share:

 

The Modern Dragon Wars, Volume 15

by Livia Runellius, Imperial Scholar

 

***

 

Agnar the Unknowable was, in every ordinary sense, a typical Nord: fair of hair and impressive in build. In every other sense, it would be impossible to say for certain what he was like. It is thus impossible to say why he chose to martyr his kindly enemies in so many brutal ways, and yet show so many other despicable characters such tender mercy. Alas, there are but scant accounts of his motives, though one account of this nature survives the centuries.

 

One particular day in Frostfall, it was said that he sent word to his old friends among the Blades. He never joined them in their many excursions to hunt dragons, though he did once pay tribute to their part in the defeat of the World-Eater. And though he hunted a great many dragons on his own, he always showed an unmistakeably contemptuous expression when the subject of the Blades was raised. Nevertheless, he extended no hostility toward his old friends openly. After all his pretense of warmth and fellowship had been received by his guests, he then surprised them by having them bound and gagged, left kneeling before him in his presence.

 

"Villains," he addressed them, "Delphine and Esbern." He then approached them with his sword drawn. "Here we are, in Skyrim: The Land of Dragons. And myself, the one remaining Dragonborn. I do not relish this moment as much as you might think."

 

He then went before them and held his sword out to them, as if he were offering it. For a moment, there was only silence. Then he let the sword drop, and an ominous clang resounded around the hall.

 

"You are Blades," he continued, speaking as casually as a man might barter with a fishmonger. "Like this sword. Unlike this sword, however, I am your King. You must always adhere to my will. This sword, if held by someone else, would become a prisoner to another. I alone command your actions. Or, so you profess."

 

No one else in the great hall of Agnar's mansion could speak a word, though there were several of his friends and relatives in attendance. They perhaps sensed the weight of this moment. There was a kind of invisible blade hanging in the air that spoke of great and terrible words to come.

 

Agnar's brow furrowed, and he spoke, "The great Paarthurnax showed me how to defeat Alduin, repented himself having ever served the World-Eater, and proved his forebearance by many words of wisdom. For these deeds, you hunted him, relentlessly. You threatened him with promises of violence, and you even harassed the followers of Kynareth in his name. In your great hubris, you made demands of your leader, as if you were permitted to do so. Your empty oaths command you to follow your leader, and yet your own commands would reduce him to the lowest of your mercenary assassins."

 

The two who were bound seemed willing to make some retort, and it was said that they were seen to struggle against their bonds.

 

"Do not think that I am here to chastise you," he answered their unspoken responses. "You served me well in that great war, and this is my reward to you. I will carefully explain to you why I have decided to take your shameful heads."

 

A chair was then brought for him to sit, and Agnar sat down before them.

 

"You speak of oaths and honor," he explained, "but what do you really know of such things? I proved to you countless times that I am the Dragonborn, yet all these mighty deeds elicted not one proof that you were my followers. Who was it that found the Elder Scroll? Whose blood was it that opened the door to Sky Haven Temple? Who was it that found and rescued the ungrateful old man? Who was it that risked his life to discover this old man's location in the first place? Who was it that protected both your lives time and time again from Thalmor agents?"

 

For a time, it seemed that Agnar waited for a reply. He then raised a sigh of profound depth and shook his head.

 

"It is true that you showed me the prophesy," he then said. "The World-Eater may well have ended this world already, had you showed yourself to be loyal servants that Blades presume they are. Thus, I have prepared for you this reward."

 

He then stood and took his blade back in hand. He then carefully tested it, trying the weight of it, then smiled.

 

"Bow down and offer me your heads," he told them. "If you do this, I promise to remit the disgrace that your vile deeds have earned you."

 

For several moments, the two only stared at Agnar. Delphine, in particular, seemed to have a disappointment in her eyes, and she did nothing more than sadly shake her head. Esbern only glared back in disdainful contempt.

 

"You wanted justice?" Agnar softly responded in grim tones. "You will see justice done. And then, you will know what it means to let a man that you should rightfully worship beg for mercy on behalf of a friend in vain."

 

Agnar then left the hall, leaving the two Blades to be condemned in the usual way: a public beheading. Their infamy was such that their names became the standard for insults and curses for a century, and anyone wishing to end a dispute would invariably compare their opponent to Delphine or Esbern.

 

Still, this account does show how fine the line is between infamy and greatness. So little difference exists, that one might wonder whether there really is a difference. But this is just one of those unknowable things.