“Are you really sure you want to do this, Dar?”
I have to at least try to talk him out of it one last time. I don’t think there’s a snowball’s chance in Oblivion that I’ll succeed, but I have to try.
Dardeh smiled at him, and as usual Roggi felt his heart twist up into a knot of something that wavered between happiness and sorrow. Happiness because he had never loved anyone as deeply as he loved Dardeh, and that smile was the one thing that made his life complete. Sorrow, because, well…
“Roggi, we’ve been over this a dozen times. You know it has to happen. I can sit back and watch the world burn or I can apply my power to the problem and help this conflict end. Finally.”
“You’ve already saved the world once, my love. It doesn’t always have to be on your shoulders to carry the weight.”
“Yes it does.” Dardeh shook his head and reached for Roggi’s hands. “I know I sound like an arrogant bastard when I say this, but you know as well as I do that nobody else can do what I can do. I was the only one who could get Miraak killed, too, and for the same reasons. Hermaeus Mora had to think he had a replacement, and I’m the only other Dragonborn. It has to be me. Nobody else can absorb the dragons, and nobody else has the number and power of Shouts that I have.” He grinned. “As much as it irks Ulfric to know that, it’s the truth.”
And that’s where the sorrow comes in. Some day I’m going to lose him because he’s the Last Dragonborn, and he’s going to stretch himself too far. I know it. And I can’t bear thinking about it.
“Besides,” Dardeh said with a sardonic little grin, “it’s going to look like it’s all Ulfric’s doing if I can handle it right. He’ll be the target of people’s hate and people’s adoration, not me.”
“Dar.”
“Well I sure don’t want anyone looking at me to be King, or Emperor, or… Jarl or anything like that. Thane is bad enough. I hate it.” He dropped Roggi’s hands and sighed heavily. “Roggi, do you remember what he said to us, that day we came to see him before? I’ve never forgotten it. He asked you how it was that you would follow someone who was so strong but afraid to choose a side.”
Roggi grimaced. Yes, and he was making assumptions about my feelings for Dardeh that turned out to be correct in the long run. Self-righteous asshole. It still makes me fume that he knew it before I did.
“Yeah, I remember. I remember everything about that day vividly. Until we got to about the sixth or seventh mead later on.” He grinned sheepishly. “But that still doesn’t mean you have to go to war for him.”
“No, it by itself doesn’t mean that. But I have to do something, finally.” Dardeh’s expression grew hard. It wasn’t an expression Roggi had seen from him often, and not one he enjoyed seeing. “I’ve been walking past dead soldiers and stepping over the wreckage of battle for too long, Roggi, and I’ve seen the spirits of those people, in…” He trailed off, and shook his head. “Well, that’s different now. But I can’t sit back and do nothing. Not anymore.”
“I know, love.” Roggi heaved a sigh. “And I can’t let you do it alone. I’ve seen even more of those battlefields than you have. Fighting dragons with you has made me strong. I can’t justify sitting back like an old man and saying I’m retired – I’m ten years younger than Ulfric, after all. If nothing else I can stand between you and that pompous bastard so you don’t end up with his blood on your hands.”
Dardeh took his hands again and peered at him.
“Are you going to be alright? Is this too hard for you?”
Roggi had been thinking about it all the way from Falkreath, and he’d been both surprised and pleased by the conclusions he’d reached. He smiled at his husband and shook his head.
“Don’t worry about me, Dar. I’m not the same guy I was back then. Aren’t you the one who keeps telling me not to forget that I fought Alduin? I did those things. That is me. And I was a Stormcloak, before we lost Briinda. I believed in what we were doing then and I still do, Dar, even if I have a less than favorable view of the man who leads the charge and his more extreme notions about Dunmer and everything else. I’m stronger than I was back then. And I have you.” He squeezed Dardeh’s hand. “I’ll be just fine.”
Dardeh surprised him by pulling him into a long kiss, right there in front of the palace, regardless of who might be watching. Roggi had a hard time pulling himself away when it was over; but he did, and he smiled at his husband, and nodded toward the door.
“Well then, let’s go get ourselves some cheap blue armor.”
He laughed as the door swung open and he heard Dardeh making distressed noises behind him. There was no possibility either one of them – but particularly not Dardeh – was going to wear the flimsy, colorful uniform that Roggi had once worn proudly as a younger man.
They strode toward the throne. Roggi breathed deeply, but quietly. It didn’t matter how brave the words were that he’d told Dardeh; it didn’t matter how many years it had been. The sight of Ulfric on his throne still had the power to make his pulse race, still brought up feelings that he wished he had actually managed to push as far away as he pretended to have pushed them.
The worst of it is I still hate him, and I still… don’t. It makes no sense. But I suppose that’s just the way it’s always going to be. We have the upper hand this time. I have to just focus on that.
He saw Ulfric’s gaze focus on him for a moment as they approached, saw the flicker of surprise that lasted only a fraction of a moment, and then saw him look at Dardeh. His expression changed from surprise to wariness.
“Dragonborn,” Ulfric said quietly. “To what do we owe this great honor?” His words were cordial, but his eyes were narrowed and his expression cold.
Roggi glanced at Dardeh and flinched. Dardeh’s expression was equally cold and hard. Roggi had not seen this side of Dardeh more than a couple of times.
He always says that he has a dark side, and that I help him control it. I always find that hard to believe. But this face… He truly hates Ulfric. Maybe more than I do.
“Jarl Ulfric,” Dardeh said, nodding. “I’ll get right to the point. I know that the truce has broken and a battle is imminent. I told you a long time ago that if I had to, I would pick a side, and so I have. I’m here to help.”
Ulfric raised one eyebrow. “Interesting. And on what basis do you reach those conclusions?”
Roggi held his breath. They’d agreed that it was imperative they not mention that he and Brynjolf had seen Frina carrying Ulfric’s battle axe. He didn’t know how far Ulfric’s anger would push him, if he knew that, but he did know that at the very least Frina would be removed from the Stormcloaks if he found out. Neither of them wanted to be responsible for that. And yet here they were, and everything about Ulfric’s attitude was exactly the kind of thing that would set Dardeh’s dragonfire alight.
Dardeh never changed his expression.
“You know that I was a Thane in Whiterun when I lived there. My housecarl – my former housecarl – was originally attached to Balgruuf’s household before he assigned her to me. She’s been recalled to help defend Whiterun against an imminent attack. There’s only one place that attack could be coming from.”
Ulfric was quiet for a moment. He turned his attention to Roggi, looking thoughtful.
“And you, Roggi?”
Roggi found himself staring into the eyes he knew so very well. He couldn’t help but wonder whether there would ever come a time when he didn’t remember all the bad times – and the good ones as well – when he looked at the man. But, he noted, he wasn’t shaking. He wasn’t afraid this time, of either Ulfric or himself. And that was a very good thing indeed.
There are so many questions you want to ask me, aren’t there, Ulfric? But you can’t, and you won’t. And I won’t answer them even if you do. You lost your right to ask me those things long, long ago.
He found himself smiling slightly. Yes, this will be alright. I can do this.
“And me, Ulfric. It’s time this conflict came to an end. I haven’t changed my feelings about the Thalmor in the past dozen years.”
Ulfric stared at him for a long few moments, and then looked back at Dardeh.
“Very well. Only a fool would turn down such experienced assistance, and let it not be said that I am a fool. Let’s go see Galmar.”
He rose from his throne and moved quietly into the war room. Roggi glanced at Dardeh, but couldn’t get him to make eye contact.
He looks more like someone about to perform an assassination than to join an army. There must have been so much more said between these two than Dar’s ever told me about. They really can’t stand each other, can they?
“Galmar,” Ulfric called out as he passed through the door. “I have some new recruits for you.”
“Good!” Galmar said. He was standing with Yrsarald Thrice-Pierced, who Roggi remembered as a competent but unremarkable low-ranking officer from his earlier days as a soldier. He clearly had risen to a position of trust, going over battle plans with Ulfric’s right-hand man. Galmar looked up from the map and saw Roggi, and then stared at Ulfric.
“Have you taken leave of your senses, Ulfric,” he said, and it wasn’t quite a question. “Roggi? And the Dragonborn?”
Ulfric smirked. “Yes, Galmar. They’ve come to offer their assistance.” He turned to Roggi and quirked his head to one side. “So. Shall I have Galmar administer the oath?”
Roggi laughed. “You heard the words once before, Ulfric. I don’t think my voice is beautiful enough that you need to hear me sing a second time. I’m here, I’m back, and that will have to be good enough. There’s only one condition.”
Galmar practically choked. “Condition? You’re going to make demands?”
He grinned. “Yes, Galmar, I’m going to make demands.” He caught Ulfric’s gaze and held it. “I’ll do what you need me to do in this effort, Ulfric. You know my skill set.”
Dardeh gasped. “Roggi…”
Roggi held up his hand, to cut him off. “I have more connections now than I used to. I think you’ll find my services to be very beneficial. But when there’s a battle? Like the one coming up? I go where Dardeh goes. That’s not negotiable. I also happen to be a much better fighter these days than I once was, so you’ll be happy I’m there, I promise you that.”
He watched as Ulfric’s eyes narrowed.
“That’s not how this works, soldier,” Galmar snapped. “You know better than that.”
Ulfric waved at Galmar. “Enough, Galmar. You have my agreement, Roggi.”
Then, as Galmar sputtered, Ulfric turned to Dardeh.
“Now then, Dragonborn. Tell me why I should trust you when you had a member of Balgruuf’s household in your own.”
Dardeh laughed. It was a bark of a laugh, deep and sarcastic.
“That’s a fair question. The answer is simple. My mother raised me as a Nord. I worship Talos, Ulfric. I refuse to let anyone – elves or otherwise – tell me I cannot do so and it’s high time they stopped thinking they had the right to tell anyone else that, either. The Thalmor need to be sent back to where they came from.”
Ulfric took a few steps away from the table, his arms crossed and his head down, clearly deep in thought. He turned to face Dardeh again.
“But why you, Dragonborn? There has been no love lost between us.”
Dardeh didn’t miss a beat. “I’m not doing this for you, Ulfric. I’m doing it for Skyrim. And for freedom. And because I am uniquely qualified to help bring this whole bloody mess to a conclusion more quickly than it would be otherwise, so that we lose as few people as possible.” He looked down and sighed, then met Ulfric’s gaze again. “And because, damn it all, whether I like it or not you have the claim and the right to be High King. It’s time this was settled in the honorable way; and since they won’t agree to it peacefully, I’m feeling like shouting at them until they will.” He grinned. “And hey, if that doesn’t work I have a friend named Odahviing – big, red, breathes fire and all that. He’d be willing to help, too, if I Shout for him. Last resort, don’t you know.”
Ulfric’s mouth fell open for a moment, and his eyes widened. Then he chuckled.
“That sounds good to me, Dragonborn. Galmar will administer the oath.”
Dardeh shook his head. “Oh no. No oaths from me. You can take me or leave me.”
Yrsarald stepped back from the map table and evaporated around the corner of the room. Wise man, Roggi thought. He saw a storm coming and decided to seek shelter.
He sighed. “Dar…”
Dardeh turned and growled at him. “I’m not kidding, Roggi. Dovahkiin swears no oaths.”
Roggi waved a hand in the air. “I know, I know.” He looked at Galmar. “I need to go check on something, Galmar. Run Dar through his paces. Trust me, he’s in this for the long haul, otherwise we wouldn’t be here. Most stubborn half a Nord I ever met in my life. Half Nord, half dragon. It couldn’t possibly be any worse.”
He turned and walked out of the room grinning, hearing Galmar complain that he didn’t know what Dardeh could do that was so special. He hadn’t gotten more than halfway down the long hall when the walls shook.
“MUL- QAH DIIV!”
He started laughing. Dragon Aspect. Perfect. I wonder how brown old Galmar’s armor is right now.
He made his way through the barracks, nodding at the soldiers stationed there. Most of them were far too young to know who he was but one or two of them, the ones with salt-and-pepper hair, widened their eyes and shrank back just a bit as he passed them. He turned the corner and descended into the dungeon.
There were no prisoners in the cells, and the jailer was yawning. Roggi walked around the space, slowly, taking stock of the condition of the room that had once been his workplace. He noted that there was only the smallest amount of blood on the racks and that old and dried. The tools atop nearby bales of hay and crates were old and dirty, and not the caliber of the lovingly tended set he’d given to Sayma.
Nobody’s been doing any work down here recently, I see. Time to make a quick trip to the house in Kynesgrove.
He wrinkled his nose at the thought. He’d made quite the show of giving up his tool kit, saying that he didn’t need it any longer. While he had meant that, every word of it, he hadn’t mentioned the matching kit stored in the chest in his home. He’d always had two sets of tools, just in case.
I never have gotten used to telling anyone the entire truth. Not even Dardeh. I used to be afraid he would leave me because of that, but I know better now.
He picked up a set of old, crude pliers from atop a barrel and examined them absently.
So, Galathil, it seems you were not my last client after all. Who would have thought?
There was a rustling sound behind him. He didn’t have time to turn before a familiar scent filled his nostrils and a large, warm hand rested on his shoulder and squeezed gently.
Oh gods. Not this.
He closed his eyes and, as if from a distance, noticed how his stomach did a flip and his heart rate sped up, his body treating the situation as though there had never been that moment years before when he had said Enough. No more. But he didn’t move, didn’t react, forced himself not to.
Not this. Not now. Not ever. This is the line across which I will not step.
He cleared his throat and spoke, gently. He used the voice that belonged to the man who had spent years tying people to these racks and carefully analyzing what he could do to them that would inflict the most pain.
“Ulfric. Take your hand from my shoulder, or I will take it from your arm.”
There was a moment of utter silence. Then the hand dropped from his shoulder, and a small, distant part of Roggi sighed in disappointment.
“Of course. You have my apologies. I just wanted to know…”
Roggi took a deep mental breath to prepare and then turned to face Ulfric. He studied the Jarl’s face, but in the darkness it was hard to know exactly what he saw. He looks lonely, Roggi thought. Maybe that’s why he followed me. Galmar and I are two of the people who know him best and Galmar isn’t a warm man.
Or maybe he just wants to see how well he’s going to be able to manipulate me. That seems more likely.
“You wanted to know what?”
“Whether you can really do it again, I suppose.”
Oh, you have no idea what I am capable of, Ulfric. None at all.
“I see.” He looked down at the pliers in his hand and had an idea, and grinned. “I wonder what thing ‘it’ refers to. I have my suspicions about that. But you see, my Jarl, you’re overlooking something important.”
Ulfric’s eyebrows rose just a bit. “What would that be?” he asked, his tone sarcastic.
Roggi reached out and took Ulfric’s hand, gently raising it up, smiling. He gazed into Ulfric’s eyes and saw the confusion, knew his own eyes must be sparkling.
What does it mean? That’s what you’re wondering, isn’t it. Am I going to take your hand and kiss your palm, do the things you used to like so much?
Ha.
“Well, you see, you have overlooked this lovely band on my finger. See that? You recognize what that means, yes?”
Ulfric frowned. “Of course. It means that you’re married.” He started to pull his hand away but Roggi gripped it tighter, and smiled. Ulfric really had no idea how strong he was, but he was about to find out.
“Yes. That’s what it means. I’m married to Dardeh. And I love that man with everything I am. I know that probably disappoints you but it’s the truth.” He chuckled. “You knew I loved him before I did, Ulfric. You should feel proud of yourself for that moment of insight. It was really very well done.”
Ulfric frowned, his confusion seemingly giving way to an understanding with which he wasn’t happy. Roggi smiled again.
He brought the other hand, holding the pliers, up toward Ulfric’s hand and maneuvered them to grasp the end of one of his fingernails. He spoke, using his most soothing and intensely frightening voice as he did so.
“You also overlooked the fact that part of what I am is a person with a very useful tool in my hand at the moment. You never did spend any time finding out what it is that I enjoy, Ulfric. You were too busy making certain that I pleased you. What if I were to tell you that one of my favorite things in the world is to take a fingernail, like this, and pull it out. Little bit by little bit. They usually start screaming not too long into the process but the real trick, the sign of a real artist, is to make that music last. I am a very, very good artist, Ulfric. That’s why some of your men tried to sink back into the walls when I came in here. They remember.”
As he spoke, he applied pressure to Ulfric’s nail. He had no intention of actually harming Ulfric, at least not physically; but he stared at him, intently, and considered the effect he was having.
He’s determined, isn’t he? He’s decided he’s not going to react. But he’s forgetting how many nights he spent telling me about being tortured by the Thalmor. He’s starting to sweat and it’s not going to take long before he cracks.
Damn, I don’t need my tool kit. I can torture him just by using my voice. This is so much better than killing him would ever be.
By the gods, this is fun.
It’s not a good thing that this is fun.
He pulled a bit more strongly, and Ulfric hissed.
“Enough, Roggi. I have gotten your message, loud and clear.”
Roggi dropped Ulfric’s hand and smiled.
“I do hope so. You followed me to wonder whether I could still do this? Of course I can. I could have pulled that nail out before you could blink. The last man I worked with had a thumb go missing in less time than that. Oh, I wouldn’t really have hurt you, you know. At least I think I wouldn’t have.” Ulfric swallowed, and Roggi chuckled. “Don’t underestimate me, Ulfric. If you need someone pressured, I can and will apply the pressure for you.”
He reached out and pushed one finger into Ulfric’s chest, dropping all pretense of humor and letting his voice turn raw and harsh.
“But you will never have me again.”
Ulfric stared at him for a moment, his face frozen, looking as though he wanted to say something but not being able to formulate the words. His eyes, though, told Roggi that he’d been right. After all these years, Ulfric still had a weakness for him that he’d never admitted to himself. And he was shocked to realize it.
I knew that, that first day Dar and I went to see him together. Even though I was terrified I knew it. He couldn’t take his eyes off me, and it wasn’t all him trying to exert his power. The man still wants me, after all these years. Ha.
Finally Ulfric simply nodded, then turned and swept away, back to his throne room. Roggi turned and stared at the rack again.
I can’t believe I did that.
Yes I can. It felt so good.
Gods.
A few moments later he heard the unmistakable sounds of Dardeh’s heavy armor as he made his way across the room. Roggi smiled to himself; Dardeh would never succeed in any kind of venture that required stealth, not ever.
“Roggi.”
“Yeah?”
“Are you alright?”
He turned his head and looked at the man he loved more than anything else in the world. Both of us are going to be put to the test, he thought. Dar’s afraid of what might happen when he kills, and I’ve just proven once more that it would be good to be afraid of me, too. I wonder if we’ll survive this.
“I don’t know, Dar. But I’ll do my best as long as you’re with me.”
Dardeh just nodded. He gathered Roggi up into an embrace; Roggi rested his head on Dardeh’s shoulder and closed his eyes.
How different it is, a touch that is nothing but love, than the kind of touch Ulfric gave. Dardeh can be every bit as sensual as Ulfric ever was – and more – but he has this. This power to comfort, to share thoughts without speaking, to reassure me that I am the most important thing to at least one other person in the world. I will protect this man until my last breath.
After a few moments, Dardeh’s dark voice rumbled next to Roggi’s ear.
“Let’s go find out what Galmar wants us to do. He had to step out of the room for a moment after I showed him Dragon Aspect.”
Roggi threw his head back and chortled.
“Perfect.”