"Thank you for your time, friend." he said to Farengar. The court mage had sold some tomes and scrolls to him. He sled his hand out of his clothed sleeve that shrouded his smooth skin with a few holes and stitched patches, and pressed it into the shallow pocket that held a few ringlets of his chainmail in place. There he clutched a small pouch in his hands, fingers spread open with the bag engulfing the latter. The Dragonborn's head was also shrouded with a cloth hood that hid his face partially, preferring that not everyone would recognize him. It feels secure, he thinks. The court mage that wore a thick and dense blue robe reached out for the small pouch that held the gold, his index finger and thumb pulling onto the piece of string that held the opening of the bag together.
Farengar's lips pressed together and nodded happily and hovered his hand left and right to place the string onto it's original place. Admittedly, it was quite unusual for the Dragonborn to use magic, as he rarely used it. Yet the gold kept streaming into his pouches and pockets and there was no other way for him to spend the latter on. Counting coppers, he called it. His head dipped forth towards the court mage as a sign of gratitude, and felt comfortable that the mage was of assistance to him. The thick boots that were made of a thick cloth pressed against the sturdy wooden floor that was build around Dragonsreach, the 'centerpiece' of Whiterun. It has, in fact, been a while that he visited Whiterun, only for the ocassion of trading goods such as weaponry and other sorts of supplies like building materials.
There, he entered the main hall with Jarl Balgruuf sitting on the large seat at the far end of the hall. The Dragonborn had lifted his arms into the air and knelt forth just a tiny little bit until his knee pecked at the bright wooden floor and then stretched his muscles, before regaining his original position. His eyes focused onto the large dining table in front of the Jarl that had plenty of delicious meals, though there was no time for him to feast on delicious wares that the cooks of Dragonsreach had prepared. His left foot pecked to the left and there he saw the beautiful Altmer and there inspected her entire body with a smile. She is absolutely astonishing, he thought. What was a high elf like her doing in a wretched place like this?