I Became a Side Character in the World Of Skyrim

Back in Riverwood, Delphine had already pieced together a plan—one sharp enough to cut through the fog surrounding the dragons. The small room inside the Sleeping Giant Inn felt tense, lit only by the warm flicker of a single lantern. Shadows danced on the wooden walls as Delphine leaned over the table, maps and papers sprawled in front of her.

She tapped a finger on one parchment, her brows drawn together.

“Astrid,” she began, her voice low and serious, “I’ve received word that the Thalmor are hosting a grand party at the Thalmor Embassy. Ambassador Elenwen herself is organizing it—inviting nobles, wealthy merchants, and influential figures. She’s trying to win them over… to build alliances in the shadows.”

Delphine lifted her eyes, locking them onto Astrid’s.

“Your mission is to infiltrate that party. Blend in. Once you’re inside, you search for information—anything on the dragons—and secure any secret documents you can find.”

The fire crackled behind them, casting a warm glow on Astrid’s face. She stiffened. Her hand subconsciously reached for the dagger at her belt, gripping the hilt as if seeking reassurance.

Infiltration… stealth… deception.

These were things she had never been good at.

Astrid lowered her gaze, her expression tightening.

Her throat felt dry.

She wished—more than she wanted to admit—that Alex were here.

His calm voice.

His strategic mind.

The way he always helped her find confidence in herself.

But he wasn’t here.

And she refused to look weak because of it.

Her breath trembled slightly before she steadied it. She nodded once, firm but hesitant.

“…Alright,” she muttered. “I’ll try. I’ll do my best to sneak in.”

The words lacked her usual fire, but they carried determination.

A quiet, vulnerable kind of determination.

Her shoulders rose as she inhaled deeply, then fell again as she straightened her stance—trying to convince herself as much as Delphine.

Delphine noticed the flicker of doubt in Astrid’s eyes—the way her brows subtly pinched together, the slight tremble in her exhale. Astrid rarely showed hesitation, and Delphine knew exactly what name would steady her.

She leaned forward slightly, voice softening.

“Hey—this is for Alex.”

Astrid’s eyes lifted.

Delphine continued, her tone firm but warm,

“He worked so hard to craft those powerful gear pieces for us. The least we can do is bring back information that’s worth all that trouble.”

Astrid’s fingers curled tightly, knuckles whitening as her fists formed. The doubt in her expression melted away, replaced by a spark of determination that flared bright in her eyes.

“You’re right,” she said, her voice clearer, stronger. “Let’s do it.”

Delphine exhaled, relief slipping into a small smile. For a moment, the tension in her shoulders eased.

“Good. We’ll head to Solitude and meet with Malborn,” she explained, straightening as she returned to her more tactical tone. “He’ll smuggle in whatever equipment you choose. Inside the party, you won’t be allowed to bring any weapons at all.”

Her gaze instinctively drifted over Astrid—broad shoulders, firm arms, solid posture.

Delphine lifted an eyebrow, smirking lightly.

“Though honestly… with a body like yours, that might not be a problem.”

Her eyes traveled downward without meaning to—and stopped.

Right at Astrid’s chest.

A brief, awkward pause hung in the air.

Delphine quickly looked away, her expression tightening into something between annoyance and… resignation? Maybe jealousy.

Her lips pressed thin, and she muttered something under her breath that Astrid couldn’t quite hear.

Astrid blinked and tilted her head slightly.

“Delphine? Are you alright?”

Delphine’s jaw clenched as she forced her eyes forward.

“I’m fine,” she snapped a little too quickly, then sighed—long and sharp, as if releasing frustration she didn’t want to admit.

“Just—haaah…”

She ran a hand down her face, then waved the moment off.

The road to Solitude stretched long beneath a sky washed in pale afternoon light. The wind rolled gently across the plains, carrying the distant crash of waves from the northern sea. Tall pines swayed in rhythm, their shadows dancing across the dirt path. Every so often, the metallic clank of Imperial armor echoed—the unmistakable sound of patrols marching in formation.

Solitude was heavily guarded now. After High King Torygg’s death at Ulfric’s hands, the city transformed into a fortress of political tension. Imperial soldiers watched every traveler with sharp, evaluating eyes, while Thalmor Justiciars patrolled the road like silent vultures wrapped in black and gold.

As Astrid and Delphine approached Katla’s Farm near the massive Solitude gate, the towering archway loomed overhead, carved with intricate stonework that shimmered faintly in the sunlight. Carts rattled past, nobles in fine cloaks rode on horseback, and dockworkers shouted instructions from the nearby port. The city felt alive—crowded, wealthy, and buzzing with suppressed anxiety.

Delphine stood near a wagon loaded with hay, arms crossed, her posture efficient and alert. The breeze ruffled her brown hair, but her eyes never stopped scanning the surroundings.

“Meet Malborn at the Winking Skeever Inn,” she instructed, turning to face Astrid. “Tell him my name. Give him whatever weapons or armor you want smuggled in. He’s a Wood Elf—golden eyes, narrow features.”

She raised a finger as if ticking off a list.

“Don’t confuse him with any other Bosmer. He tends to keep to the shadows.”

Astrid walked beside her, boots pressing into the gravel. Her brows pulled together slightly, curiosity flickering in her eyes.

“Delphine… can this Malborn really be trusted? He’s not one of the Blades, right?”

Delphine paused mid-step. Her gaze drifted toward the distant mountains beyond Solitude, where the peaks glowed faint blue beneath the sky. She inhaled deeply, her chest rising slowly before she exhaled with quiet heaviness.

“No…” she murmured. “But his past is darker than most.”

The wind stilled. A moment of silence wrapped around them.

“His family was slaughtered in Valenwood when he was just a boy,” Delphine continued, voice low. “I don’t know whether the Thalmor spared him, or whether he hid… but knowing how arrogant and paranoid they are?” She shook her head. “He must have hidden. If the Thalmor realized he survived, they would’ve killed him on sight. Someone with his history would only be seen as a threat—someone who might seek revenge.”

Delphine’s jaw tightened.

“That fear, that hatred… that’s how he and I became allies. And that’s why I trust him.”

Astrid stopped walking. Her fists curled at her sides, trembling slightly. Her expression darkened, eyes narrowing with raw anger.

“Now I really hate the Thalmor,” she growled.

Delphine glanced sideways at her. She caught the tension in Astrid’s hands, the flicker of empathy in her eyes—as if something in Malborn’s story echoed with a wound Astrid kept buried deep.

Delphine noticed… but she didn’t ask.

Some scars were too deep to touch.

Astrid blinked, then loosened her shoulders with a forced exhale.

“Ah—sorry. I got a little angry.” She shook her head lightly. “I should go meet Malborn now.”

Delphine nodded once, firm and approving.

“Go. I’ll be here when you return.”

The wind carried her voice as Astrid headed toward Solitude’s gate, determination sharpening her steps.

Solitude lived up to its reputation. Even before Astrid stepped through the towering iron gates, she could feel the weight of security pressing on the air. Imperial soldiers patrolled in flawless formation, their armor polished so brightly it caught flecks of sunlight. Thalmor Justiciars walked among them like silent shadows, their cold gazes sweeping over travelers with effortless superiority.

No checkpoints.

No questions at the gate.

No one needed them.

Only a fool would start trouble here—doing so would be like announcing you wished to die.

Astrid lowered her head and walked through the massive gates. The moment she entered, a heavy atmosphere struck her. The square was crowded, but the mood was grim. An execution was underway.

A man knelt on the stone platform—one of the Stormcloak soldiers from Helgen. His face was pale, accepting his fate with bitter resignation. The headsman stood ready, and the gathered citizens watched in tense silence.

Astrid’s breath caught. Instinctively, she raised her hood, hiding her face in its shadow. She couldn’t afford unnecessary attention—not here, not now.

She slipped away from the square and entered the Winking Skeever Inn. Warm lamplight greeted her, along with the murmur of conversations, clinking mugs, and the faint scent of roasted meat. Adventurers, travelers, and nobles mingled together, each minding their own business.

Astrid’s eyes scanned the room—searching.

Then she saw him.

A Wood Elf with narrow, sharp features and golden eyes sat in a dim corner, intentionally separated from the noise. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes were alert, flicking around the inn with quiet suspicion.

Astrid approached with careful steps.

In a soft, low voice, she asked,

“Are you Malborn?”

Malborn didn’t even blink. His lips curled into a teasing grin.

“Haha, you must have the wrong Wood Elf.”

His tone was playful, but his gaze sharpened—testing her.

Astrid leaned closer, her expression firm, her voice dropping almost to a whisper.

“Delphine sent me. She said you could help.”

Malborn let out a short snort.

“Heh. Your friend has a strange way of sending people. Alright—follow me.”

He stood and moved quietly through the inn, leading her behind a wooden pillar near the kitchen—far from listening ears.

His voice dropped.

“Alright. You’re the one Delphine told me about. Hand me whatever you want smuggled into the party.”

Astrid reached into her bag and laid out her chosen items one by one:

her dagger…

her bow…

a handful of arrows…

and several small potions.

“This is all I’ll need.”

Malborn inspected them with practiced eyes, nodding.

“Good. Not too much. Less risk for both of us. Now go—Delphine should be waiting.”

Astrid gave a small nod and turned to leave the inn.

The walk back to Katla’s Farm was chilled by the sea breeze, the cries of gulls echoing overhead and merchant carts creaking down the road. Delphine stood where Astrid left her, tapping her foot impatiently.

As soon as she saw Astrid approaching, she lifted her chin.

“Did you hand them over?”

“Yes. What’s next?”

A sly, almost mischievous grin slowly stretched across Delphine’s face.

“Now you change into this.”

She held out a folded noble dress—silky, elegant, and far too luxurious for common use. Astrid stared at it as though Delphine had handed her a deadly weapon.

“Delphine… this looks expensive.”

Delphine shrugged.

“Well, you need to look charming if you’re going to a party, Princess.”

Astrid’s cheeks flushed immediately. She held the dress awkwardly, her shoulders stiffening.

“I—I’m not suited for this. My body is… more like a knight’s.”

Delphine rolled her eyes dramatically and waved toward the back of the carriage.

“Oh, just go change behind the wagon. I’ll stand guard so no one tries to peek.”

Astrid let out a long breath—half irritation, half resignation.

“…Fine.”

Minutes passed.

Then Astrid stepped out.

Delphine froze.

Her jaw slowly dropped.

The dress hugged Astrid’s frame perfectly—elegant, flattering, and impossible to ignore. Her curves were accentuated beautifully, especially… in areas Delphine tried very hard not to stare at.

Astrid raised her arms shyly.

“How do I look? Good?”

Delphine’s eye twitched.

She snatched Astrid’s armor and weapons with the speed of a jealous cat.

“Give me that! Hmph!”

Dumping them onto the carriage, she continued sharply,

“I’ll store these at the inn back in Riverwood. You can pick them up anytime. Now—get on the carriage. And take this invitation.”

She shoved a sealed letter into Astrid’s hand.

“Give it to the guard at the embassy.”

As Astrid climbed onto the carriage, Delphine muttered under her breath,

“…Damn it… the world really is unfair.”

And with the flick of reins, Astrid set off toward the Thalmor Embassy—her mission officially underway.

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