It was a long morning.
Dardeh hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep for thinking about everything he’d heard the night before. The few times he’d dozed off, he’d startled himself awake thinking of Ulfric flying backwards toward his map table and imagining that he’d actually struck it and been harmed. Or he’d hear the caged animal in the sound of Roggi’s voice as he’d been telling what he wanted to do to Ulfric.
Roggi tortures people. Or he used to. I don’t know what to do with that information.
He kept going back to the torture room in Helgen Keep, or the room where he’d found Etienne Rarnis in the Thalmor Embassy. Those racks, covered in blood. That. That was the kind of thing Roggi did and, he said, did really well. His stomach turned thinking of it.
Is that the kind of thing a person can leave behind?
For what felt like the thousandth time his mind presented him with the picture of the Khajiit assassin trembling in pain as he held her aloft on his sword. Is it? Can a person leave it behind?
“Your father was a brutal man,” his mother had told him in a dream. I seem to be a brutal man, too, in many ways. I never knew it before I left Markarth and there’s no way to un-know it now.
He had turned his head during those moments and looked from his uneasy bedroll up at Roggi, passed out and snoring, and thought hard about whether there was any chance this would make him feel differently about Roggi, leave him behind. Just thinking about it made his throat constrict. No. There’s no chance. He’s it for me in this lifetime, and that’s all there is. But I don’t have to like what it is that he did.
And then he’d drift off to sleep and think about Roggi with Briinda, Roggi with Dagnell, and Roggi with… Ulfric. And he’d jerk awake again, his stomach in knots. I want it to be me. And it can’t ever be me. It’s killing me. Roggi responded to Ulfric’s charisma, his presence, his station, and that led to everything else. And I’m the godsdamned Dragonborn, he’s seen me do things nobody else can do, and if I’m honest about it I can see that he responds to that as well. He has from the first time we met. He thought back to that day on the road outside Whiterun, Roggi’s eyes round with awe as he had said “Could it be? Are you Dragonborn?” I can’t possibly take advantage of that. I’d be no better than Ulfric. It will just have to be enough that he travels with me.
He’d finally gotten up, once it was late enough, and made his way to the palace to speak to Ulfric. Galmar, Jorlief, and the guards were in the room, giving him suspicious glares, but far enough away from the throne that if they spoke quietly it could be a fairly private conversation.
“So, Dragonborn,” Ulfric said calmly as Dardeh stopped before him, “you’ve come for my answer.” There was nothing in his demeanor or his voice to suggest that only a day before they’d been ready to kill each other, and his relaxed posture before the throne gave him an air of self-confidence. But his eyes told another tale, and Dardeh was sure that his own must be returning the sentiment.
“Yes.” Today you will have no title of respect from me. I can barely bring myself to say anything else.
Ulfric nodded. “Very well, then. It was worth a great deal of thought, and I have given it that. I have the greatest respect for the Greybeards, of course. And the dragon attacks are a growing plague. But the political situation is still delicate. Not all the Jarls are fully committed to supporting me as High King.”
Dardeh came perilously close to laughing aloud.
There’s an understatement.
“I can’t afford to appear weak,” Ulfric continued. “I can’t agree to this unless Tullius himself has agreed to be there.”
Dardeh didn’t quite stifle a growl. “Politics be damned, Ulfric. Tullius has agreed to be there, as it happens, but that’s not what’s important. Alduin has returned. Tullius didn’t know the extent of what that means but I expect that you do. You are nothing if not a Nord. And we need this truce so that I can deal with him.”
Ulfric’s face changed from the expressionless mask it had been, and while it seemed nearly impossible for such a white-skinned man to do so, he paled. His eyes widened and Dardeh could see that he knew exactly what this meant.
“Alduin? The World-Eater of legend?”
Dardeh nodded. “You know who he is, and you know the prophecies that go along with him. Alduin is the one who attacked us at Helgen. He’s been raising the others.”
Ulfric frowned, but he nodded. “If that’s true, well… that changes the situation, doesn’t it.” He stood and descended from his throne, then paced back and forth in front of it for a few moments, coming to a stop just in front of Dardeh, close enough that Dardeh could see the deep lines around his eyes.
Balgruuf’s age. A solid twenty years older than me, I would guess, and ten years or so older than Roggi. And still powerful.
“Very well, Dragonborn. I’ll come to the council. Our position in Skyrim is still strong. I’ll give Tullius one more chance to quit Skyrim with his tail between his legs.”
Dardeh fought to keep his face neutral. Arrogant son of a bitch. I was almost ready to admire you for recognizing what a threat Alduin is to everyone, but no. It’s all about you and your throne, isn’t it.
“Very good. A courier will let you know when the Greybeards have set the date. It won’t be long, I’m certain.” He started to leave, but turned back. He had more to say to Ulfric Stormcloak, particularly now, as they stood face-to-face and not more than a few paces apart.
“Ulfric. Listen to me for a few moments.”
Ulfric nodded. “Very well.”
“You saw Alduin first-hand in Helgen, yes?”
Ulfric nodded, and looked annoyed. “You were there. You know that.” He planted his feet shoulder-width apart and crossed his arms, a stance of power. Dardeh smirked, and took the same stance himself.
“Yes. Well then. You might find it interesting to know that I’ve already fought Alduin once and nearly killed him, with Roggi’s help. In fact, if not for Roggi, I might well be dead. He held his own against Alduin the World-Eater. You might consider that when you’re thinking about him.”
Ulfric raised an eyebrow, and his mouth curled into a sneer.
Oh by all means, raise your eyebrow, Ulfric. I haven’t even started yet.
“You’re a powerful man, Ulfric, so I think you’ll be able to appreciate this. Do you know, I can Shout a dragon to the ground and ride it into the sky, have it attack an enemy, and as far as anyone knows there’s not a single person alive besides me who can do that. Not. One. I … removed the only other person who could. I have to say that it’s extremely satisfying to be able to ask a dragon to burn a target to a crisp and have it obey. Saves me having to do it myself.”
He sneered, purposefully. Yeah, I’m being arrogant. He needs to understand this.
Ulfric’s expression was frozen into that same superior expression he’d been wearing, but his eyes were flickering with unease.
“I kill dragons, and absorb their souls. I take their power into me. It becomes part of me. Do you know how much power a dragon has, Ulfric? It’s hard to describe what it feels like to know that you’re getting that much stronger. I’ve killed a great many of them now. I can burn a man to death with my Voice, or I can turn him to ice. I can take on the aspect of a dragon myself, which makes me fearsomely strong, or turn myself into a whisper that cannot be harmed. I can also use the Shouts that you know. They were the very first ones I learned, of course. Everyone starts at the beginning. I’ve done all those things at one point or another. I’ve done them here in Tamriel and as it happens I’ve done some of them in a plane of Oblivion as well. Apocrypha. You’ve heard of it, yes? It’s quite an intriguing place.”
Ulfric’s eyes flickered a bit more, and darkened, and he clenched his jaws. Dardeh smirked. Got you with the ‘starter shouts’ thing, didn’t I. You see now that my threat to you yesterday wasn’t just an empty one, yes?
“I’m not just a miner from Markarth anymore, Ulfric. Dragonborn isn’t just a title. And yet, even with all that – if not for Roggi, I might well be dead right now.”
He moved his hands down to his hips and shifted his weight onto one leg, a more relaxed position. You’re getting the picture, I trust. I could end you right now. I hate you enough to do that. But I won’t, because like it or not you’re important to Skyrim.
“Roggi can’t do the kinds of things I can do, and he can’t Shout the way you can, but he is a lot more substantial than you think. It takes a powerful man to live through everything he’s lived and come through it strong enough to take down a dragon.”
Ulfric stared at him, eyebrows furrowed, his mouth moving as if he was working up to a reply. Dardeh smiled, and a part of his mind suspected that it was not a pleasant smile.
Yes, Ulfric, I know what you did to him. But he didn’t break.
He turned and left the Palace without waiting for a response from the Jarl of Windhelm.
____
Dardeh walked into the room and grimaced when he saw Roggi. He had gotten back into his armor, somehow, but was sitting on the bed looking perfectly miserable. He looks like he’s been fighting a dremora the whole time I was gone. I don’t know what to do for him except get him out of here. Maybe it will help if we get him back home.
“Roggi.”
Roggi looked up at him. He looked tentative. Sad. Almost afraid.
“Yeah?”
“We need to get you home to Kynesgrove, so you can be comfortable. It’s not that far.”
What passed over Roggi’s face Dardeh didn’t recognize. He just gazed up for a moment, then nodded.
“I figured.”
“Well I don’t think there’s much point to paying Elda for the room every day. It’s not exactly quiet here. Besides, the farther away from Ulfric the better, as far as I’m concerned, and I think you’ll agree with that.”
Roggi winced, and it wasn’t a wince of physical pain.
“Yes.” He sighed again. “All right, let’s get this over with. Help me up and we can get moving.”
Dardeh helped Roggi stand. It seemed to him as though Roggi was trembling, still, the way he had been the previous day in Ulfric’s court.
“Roggi… is everything ok? Aside from the obvious? Are you going to be able to walk?”
Roggi nodded. He looked miserable. “Yeah, I can walk. As to whether everything is ok, well…” He sighed. “So what is the status with Ulfric?”
Dardeh snorted. “Oh His Excellence is going to High Hrothgar all right.” He smirked. “He agreed to meet Tullius because his position is fairly strong, he said. It’s not strong and he knows it. But I am, and he knows that, too. I made sure he knows it.”
Roggi raised an eyebrow at that, but said nothing.
“It’ll be interesting to see how he behaves with his old masters. And Tullius. He certainly doesn’t behave particularly well with his own people, for all his big talk.”
“No,” Roggi said faintly. “He never has.”
Dardeh made sure they had everything, and then nodded toward the door. “Let’s go. It shouldn’t take too long to get there but I don’t want to be arriving in the dark if you get tired. Let me know if you need help. I make a pretty decent walking stick. I’m short.”
Roggi nodded again, but his grin seemed half-hearted to Dardeh.
They made decent progress down the road, but in relative quiet.
What is going on with him? Dardeh thought. He is acting like the world has come to an end. I know it was distressing for him, and with what he told me I can understand his being upset. It’s awful. But it’s not the end of everything. I’m still not quite sure what I think about it, though. I’m not sure he knows what he thinks about it, either.
“You’ve known him for a long time, haven’t you?” he asked.
Roggi frowned.
“Yeah. Not as long as Galmar has, for sure, or the others who fought in the Legion during the Great War, but a long time. Maybe ten, twelve years or so. It feels longer.”
“Roggi, what you told me last night…”
Roggi shook his head. “I’m sorry. For all of it.”
So that really is what’s bothering him?
“Why are you sorry? I’m the one who’s sorry. That should never have happened to you or anyone else. And this,” he added, waving at Roggi’s chest. “That shouldn’t have happened either. He didn’t need to Shout at you. You wouldn’t have gotten near him with that sword of yours. Either the guards would have stopped you, or I would have.”
Roggi looked over at him, a tiny hint of a smile creeping up the corners of his mouth.
“You didn’t hold back with him. That was something.”
“Yeah, that was not the brightest thing I’ve ever done,” Dardeh said, running his hand over his braids. No, it wasn’t. It was stupid. “I was angry. I’m discovering that I have less of a handle on that than I used to have.”
“Dag is like that too,” Roggi said, smiling. “She beat me up pretty good the first time I met her. I was out of practice and, well, she has a good swing. And a short fuse.”
“Did she really?” Dardeh laughed, and thought back to that brief encounter he’d had with her, and the long pale scar down her face. I’ll bet she gave as good as she got when that happened. “We must both get it from our father.” He frowned. “I wish I didn’t get quite so much of it from him.”
They moved down the road slowly, but steadily, and after a time saw the familiar rooflines of Kynesgrove poking up from behind the next hill.
“Good,” Dardeh said. “I’m glad we got back here in time to get you settled.”
“Yeah,” Roggi said, weakly, opening the door to his house.
Dardeh pointed to his bed. “Now I want you down. You need to rest some more. How’s it feeling?”
Roggi winced. “Eh, well. I’ve felt better. It hurts pretty bad after all the walking.”
Thought so. “Yeah, so get down. Get the boots off and lie down. Better yet, lie down and I’ll help you with your boots. And then tell me where stuff is so I can make us something to eat.”
Roggi did as he was told, looking a little mystified. Dardeh got him settled and started rustling around with dishes and supplies.
“Dardeh?”
“Yeah?”
“Why are you doing all this?”
What?
“Why would I not? Don’t worry about it, Roggi. I took care of my ma for a long time when she got sick. I can make a decent stew. You’ll be a lot better in a few days but right now, don’t worry about it, ok?”
“Ok…” He sounded tentative.
Dardeh found a few bottles of mead stashed away. Roggi was trying to be good, he thought, stowing it all away, but this isn’t the time. He handed one to Roggi and said “Drink. Just do it. I will, uh, keep a better eye on how much than I did last night.”
“All right,” Roggi said, wincing. “I won’t argue with you. On either count. I was a little drunk last night. Told you I have a tendency to get a little carried away.”
Dardeh laughed. “Just a little. My fault. I kept handing them to you like an idiot.”
A few minutes passed in silence as Dardeh chopped up a few apples and cabbage and tossed them into a pot to stew. Roggi cleared his throat.
“Um, so… when will you be leaving? For High Hrothgar, I mean.”
Dardeh was stirring the stew. He snorted. “When you’re better enough to travel, that’s when. A few days, I hope? It should be at least less painful by then. If they get there before us they’ll just have to wait and enjoy the cold air for awhile. Won’t Arngeir love that.” He shot Roggi a look. “Unless you’re trying to get rid of me sooner, of course.”
“You’re… not going to leave me here? I figured you’d want to…”
Dardeh stopped in mid-stir and turned to stare at Roggi. “Why in the world would I do that?” Gods, Roggi. Leave you? Again?
“Because… Uh…” He was clearly distressed.
Oh. I see.
Dardeh put aside the spoon, walked over to Roggi’s bed and sat down at the edge of it.
“Roggi, listen. I can’t do all of this on my own, you know? I don’t know these people, all I am is a miner. These people, these important people, you’ve known some of them for years and years.”
“But Dar. You’re the Dragonborn.”
Dardeh snorted. “Well it made for a good tool to intimidate Ulfric a bit, earlier, but…” He stopped and grinned. “That was really satisfying, by the way. I wish you’d seen it. I wanted him to understand that he shouldn’t underestimate the two of us. I probably overdid it a bit, but it felt so very good. He looked like he had swallowed skeever droppings when I told him I could ride a dragon. ”
Roggi looked utterly startled for a moment, but then chuckled. “You told him that?”
He chuckled, and grinned a bit wider.
“In as superior a voice as I could muster. I figured it would make an impression. Listen, I had no choice about being able to absorb dragon souls, or any of that. It’s nothing that I had to, I don’t know, achieve. And I wasn’t the only Dragonborn, either; there was Miraak.” And let’s not forget Talos, but that’s another story entirely. “Now he’s gone and I’m the only one again. But it’s still not some kind of accomplishment, and I don’t know that it’s even all that good a thing. And I still don’t know the people who will be at that council. If I have to stand there and pretend to be some kind of diplomat… I really need you with me, Roggi. I’m nervous as all Oblivion about this.”
Roggi studied his face. “But Dar. I told you what I am. I’m not the kind of person to be, I don’t know. Doing great things to save the world.”
“You told me what you were. I can see what you are now with my own two eyes. What you told me was all pretty hard to hear, for sure, but we all have pasts, you know? Mine is just nothing but boring. Are you going to stop being my friend because I haven’t always been able to kill dragons? Think about it. Do you hate Brynjolf because he’s a thief? Or Dag? No. They’re your friends. I had to leave you behind when I went to Solstheim because you almost died. I’m not planning to leave you behind again.”
He shook his head and frowned.
“Not unless you want to stay behind, since bad things seem to happen to you when I’m around. I wouldn’t blame you for that. You are the kind of person to be doing great things if you’re willing to help me get through it, Roggi. You already have, more than once.”
He took a deep breath. I’m going to wish I hadn’t said this but here goes.
“As far as the other thing – him, I mean – well if you enjoyed something that made you feel good you’d hardly be the first person in the world to do so. You are human, after all. I certainly don’t think any less of you because of that.”
Gods, I hope I haven’t said too much.
Roggi stared at him in disbelief for a moment. Then it seemed as though he dissolved. His eyes misted over; he closed them and relaxed back onto the bed. He opened them and looked back up at Dardeh.
“So you’re really not just going to leave. I was sure you would. I don’t want to be left behind again.”
Is that really what he thought?
“Well of course not. Don’t be foolish. Now let me finish the stew.”
He stood up and went back to the cooking pot, trying his hardest not to let his emotions show. I want to kill Ulfric Stormcloak for what he did to you. I want to figure out a way to make that happen. I’m not going to let you do it yourself, it would break you. And I’m never, ever going to send you away. I need you. I’ll stand by you till I’m called to Sovngarde for good, and afterwards if you come find me there. You’ll have to leave me, first.
“Dar?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
Dardeh looked over at him and grinned. “Don’t thank me till you’ve found out how bad this dinner really is.”
Roggi laughed, the first real laugh Dardeh had heard from him in days.