Literature
I'm No Courier (Dragonborn!Reader)
The Throat Of The World was a horror to get to. Constant spikes of cruel, cold wind shot you like an arrow. Snow bears, snow foxes, ice wraiths, ice wolfs, and not to mention the damn frost dragons always wanted a piece of you. By the time you reached the top, you were exhausted, injured, hungry, thirsty, and down right pissed off. Sometimes you felt like a damn courier for Paarthurnax and the Grey Beards. Why couldn't they just talk to each other face to face?
From Frostfall to Evening Star, you had been back and forth between High Hrothgar and Throat Of The World, delivering messages.
You were the Dragonborn, you were apart of the Compan