“Dragonborn, I could indeed use a break. My fingers are indeed getting sore.”
I informed him that perhaps if the Library would send up a real scribe instead of someone pretending to be one, then we might make some real progress.
“What do you mean?”
I told him he looked and acted more like a noble than a scribe and a true scribe would never take a break after such a short amount of time. He seemed to grind his teeth at this. I couldn’t see his eyes in the shadow of his hood but I could imagine them moving in a slight bit of concern. I told him the Pentius Oculatus and myself had worked together in the past, so trying to keep me in the dark about their presence now was a little clumsy. The man shook his head and pulled back his hood.
“I tried to tell them this wouldn’t work.”
The man in pulling back his hood revealing the face of Commander Maro. I greeted him and told him that he might want to tell me what was going on or I really would use my Unrelenting Force Shout on him.
“I am here to assess whether the Dragonborn is a threat to the Empire. The memoirs are to assess the possibility you might become a threat in the future or are currently a threat.”
I told him that I probably should get up and leave but I would finish the project. I was now committed to finishing these memoirs of mine and then shoving those memoirs right in Titus Mede’s face personally, making him read them and then heading back to Skyrim never to be seen again. If my whole story didn’t convince him I was loyal then he could go… Well what I was thinking next was really impolite.
“Sorry, I told them this was a waste of time as I already could attest to your loyalty personally. I mean you destroyed the Dark Brotherhood for us.”
I told him I was now beginning to have my regrets about that thanks to this inconvenience. If Titus had his doubts he should have been a man about it and told me himself. I told Maro to get a real scribe in there and we would continue. I was mad as a nest of hornets but I wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of questioning my loyalty and getting away with it. Besides, I should set the record straight about what happened in Skyrim. The rumors and legends were getting to be ridiculous.
It didn’t take long for a real scribe to arrive. Maro was still there but now he just sat there with his arms crossed listening intently. The scribe had ink stains on his fingers and a hand calloused to long writing hours. He took Maro’s work, frowned at it and then recopied it shaking his head as he did so.
“Sorry Dragonborn, but I had my orders.”
I told him I knew that, but he could have avoided the ruse. I would have understood if he just told me straight away. I have picked of the Nord habit of directness and it would have served him better. The scribe seemed to finish and he looked at us. I asked Maro if he could be trusted with sensitive information. Maro said that is why he was picked.
I then picked up the story where I had left off with me stepping out the door of Alvor’s House into Riverwood.