It was a long and fairly slow trip to Ivarstead and then up the Seven Thousand Steps. Roggi walked well so long as they were on a reasonably level path but once the real climbing began, his injury accentuated the difference in their ages. He moved more slowly and stiffly than usual, and the lingering pain and fatigue showed on his face. Dardeh handled all the wolves that came at them, and as usual there was an abundance of those.
“How on Nirn can there be this many wolves?” he grumbled after the first ten or so of them.
Roggi snickered, and his eyes twinkled. “Well you see, Dar, it’s like this. When a boy wolf likes a girl wolf… “
Dardeh snorted. “Don’t start with me, Roggi.” He grinned. “If you weren’t already hurt, I’d have to smack you.”
“Yeah, but please don’t,” Roggi said. “I’m feeling a lot better but I’m sure it’s going to be awhile before this thing is healed up solid.”
In spite of his overall optimism, when they reached Ivarstead Roggi hemmed and hawed about going to High Hrothgar.
“Maybe I should just wait for you down here,” he said.
Dardeh stared at him in exasperation. “You wanted to come. We waited so that you could come along. Here we are. We’re going up the mountain, even if we have to do it slowly.”
Roggi shifted about uncomfortably. “It’s not just that, Dar. I’m sure I can make the climb as long as we take a break here and there along the way. It’s just that they’ll be there.”
Well of course, how stupid of me. Ulfric has to be about the last person in the world he wants to see again right now. Especially now.
“I understand. But that’s all the more reason for you to be there. Show him that he didn’t scare you off.” Dardeh continued toward the bridge that led to the Steps. “Besides, I told Ulfric that he should not underestimate you. I’d hate to be proven wrong.”
“You what?”
Dardeh grinned at him. “I told him that he ought to consider the fact that you fought Alduin. I think you should consider that, too. Even the mighty Ulfric Stormcloak hasn’t fought a dragon. You’ve fought a bunch now, Roggi. Don’t forget that.”
Roggi looked slightly embarrassed, but he did follow Dardeh to and up the stairs. He was quiet for a long while as they climbed, clearly deep in thought. They passed the corpses of several frost trolls along the way; as they stepped around one he poked it with his foot.
“Looks like we’re trailing.”
“Yes, but not by that much or these corpses would have been dragged off by now.”
Roggi nodded. “Thanks for telling me that, Dar,” he said. “About the dragons. I needed to hear it. I’m not going to avoid Ulfric anymore. When you think about it, in some ways I know more about him than most people.”
“I would say so,” Dardeh murmured, half under his breath.
“What?”
Dardeh flushed. I need to watch my mouth. “Nothing. I agree with you. You actually have something you could hold over his head if you wanted to.”
Roggi smirked. “I’d rather just ignore him.”
“Good idea.”
They were almost at High Hrothgar when Dardeh looked up and saw two figures walking up the steps to the monastery. Delphine had changed into a dark armor, and Esbern into black clothing, the type a man in mourning might wear to a funeral.
“What are they doing here?”
“Who are they?”
“Delphine and Esbern. The last of the Blades. They were the ones who got me the information about the scroll we looked at up by Paarthurnax.”
“Well now,” Roggi said quietly. “There’s a thing I didn’t know. I thought the Blades were all gone. I must be losing my touch.”
Dardeh couldn’t quite suppress a shiver from running up his spine. I still can’t get used to the idea of Roggi being a spy. “It’s not exactly a thriving organization,” he murmured. “But I don’t know why they’re here. Did Arngeir invite them, or did someone talk when they shouldn’t have?”
“No idea.”
“Me either, but this is not going to be pleasant.”
They walked into the entry hall to find just that. All four of the Greybeards were standing on one side of it while Esbern and Delphine were on the other. The tension in the room was palpable.
“So, Arngeir is it?” Delphine was saying. “Are you going to let us in, or not?”
Arngeir bristled. “You were not invited here. You are not welcome here.”
“We have as much right to be here as any of you. More, actually, since we were the ones who set the Dragonborn on this path.”
“Were you?” Arngeir countered in his most haughty tones. “The hubris of the Blades truly knows no bounds.”
Gods save me from all of them, Dardeh thought. They’re as bad as Miraak. He stepped forward and cleared his throat.
“Stop it right now,” he said, earning raised eyebrows from all sides. “First, I’d appreciate it if you’d stop speaking about me in third person. I’m right here, I have a name, and you all know what it is. Second, if you want to credit anything for – setting me on this path, as you put it – look to Alduin and the first dragon he raised outside Whiterun. Third, I never had to do a single thing about any of it. I chose to. So I’d appreciate it if you all would just focus on what we need to do right now.” He glared at Delphine and then back at Arngeir.
Esbern cleared his throat. “He’s correct, Delphine. We’re not here to rehearse old grudges. The matter at hand is urgent. Alduin must be stopped.” He turned to Arngeir and inclined his head, not quite a bow but a gesture of respect. “You wouldn’t have called this council if you didn’t agree. We know a great deal about this situation and the threat Alduin poses to us all. You need us here if you want these negotiations to succeed.”
Arngeir looked at them all in turn, staring last at Dardeh. Come on, old man, Dardeh thought. Put aside your ego for just a moment like the rest of us are trying to do. Arngeir’s eyes spoke of anger and frustration at the fact that he wasn’t in full control of events happening in his own home.
Arngeir finally sighed, and nodded. “Very well. You may enter.”
Delphine, Esbern, and the Greybeards moved toward the council chambers. Dardeh looked at Roggi.
“That was a great start, don’t you think?”
Roggi shook his head. “Dar – even with everything I said earlier, it’s going to be hard. Let me stay near you.”
Dardeh smiled. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. As long as you don’t tell everyone when you feel me shaking in my boots, ok?”
Roggi looked surprised for a moment. Then he chuckled, and they stepped into the room.
Like the entryway of the monastery, the room was dark, cavernous and unwelcoming, with an enormously tall ceiling. Everything was hard, cold stone: the great oval table, the chairs around it, the walls and the side tables reaching out of them as though they had somehow grown there organically. The brazier in the center opening of the table was of stone and, in spite of the robust fire burning it it, managed to feel cold. The only color in this great grey room was in the banners, gold and grey, bearing words in the dragon tongue, hanging well above them on each wall. It set a somber tone for the meeting. Dardeh wanted nothing more than to get it over with and leave, and he suspected everyone else felt that way as well.
And around the great oval table, the atmosphere was anything but cordial.
Arngeir had seated himself at the head of the table, and motioned Dardeh toward a chair opposite him at its foot. General Tullius was on one side, along with Legate Rikke and, surprisingly to Dardeh, Jarl Elisif the Fair of Solitude. On the other side of Tullius sat Jarl Balgruuf, who inclined his head to Dardeh with the ghost of a smile that Dardeh returned, acknowledging their mutual respect. On the opposite side of the table, Esbern and Delphine were moving toward their places. There were three empty chairs, empty in part because Ulfric Stormcloak stood against the wall, with Galmar next to him, both of them glaring across the room.
Dardeh turned to look and nearly stumbled. There sat Elenwen, the Thalmor ambassador, she who had sent the Khajiit assassin after him in Riften.
No wonder Ulfric looks like he’s about to burst. What in Oblivion is she doing here? People have very loose tongues in the castles, it seems. Or one of Arngeir’s brothers took matters into his own hands.
Dardeh was no happier about Elenwen’s being at the table than anyone else, but he forced a slight smile onto his face and moved around the table, approaching Ulfric. Ulfric refused to acknowledge his presence. Oh, ignore me will you? Dardeh smirked, and as he neared Ulfric murmured “Don’t worry, I won’t let her do anything to you.”
Ulfric’s gaze snapped to Dardeh’s and he growled. Dardeh nodded and continued past him, motioning Roggi to take the remaining empty seat between him and Galmar. Roggi pointedly ignored Ulfric and sat down, his body language speaking volumes as he turned toward Dardeh and away from Galmar. Dardeh took a deep breath and sat down, then looked to Ulfric as everyone else was.
Arngeir was the last to be seated. He nodded, and the other three Greybeards moved to take positions along the side and back walls of the room.. “Now that we’re all here we can begin. I hope you’ve all come here in the spirit of –“
“No.” Ulfric snarled. “You insult us by bringing her here? Your chief Talos hunter?”
Amidst the mutterings on all sides Dardeh heard Elenwen’s voice. “I have every right to be at this negotiation. I need to ensure that nothing agreed to here violates the terms of the White-Gold Concordat.”
Tullius spoke up. “She’s part of the Imperial delegation. You can’t dictate who I bring.”
I’m glad Ulfric still respects his masters. Otherwise I think we’d have Shouting going on and I’m pretty sure none of them could last if Arngeir decided to exert his authority.
Arngeir wasn’t likely to start Shouting; even so, he was annoyed. “Please. If we have to negotiate the terms of the negotiation, we will never get anywhere. Perhaps this would be a good time to get the Dragonborn’s opinion.”
Me? Gods. Talos guide me.
Dardeh looked at Elenwen, who sat there with her usual, superior expression. You know who I am. You tried to kill me. I should have you removed. Then he looked at Ulfric. Ulfric was glaring at him. Unlike Elenwen, however, Ulfric did not look superior. He looked as though he almost, almost recognized Dardeh as a person of power. But I despise you, Ulfric. I don’t have anything personal against Elenwen. She’s disgusting, but she’s just doing her job.
Dardeh looked at Roggi, sitting uncomfortably next to him. I don’t know what to tell you, Roggi’s expression said. It’s ok. You’re here. Dardeh gave him the barest of smiles, then looked back at Ulfric.
“Well I’m not any happier about this than you are, Jarl Ulfric,” he said, “but I think she should stay. As an observer only. Like it or not, Skyrim is a party to the Concordat at the moment and she really does have a right to be here.”
Galmar sputtered and turned red, and Dardeh was afraid for just a moment that the two of them were going to leave, but Ulfric gritted his teeth and nodded. “She is only to observe. No negotiations.”
Elenwen smiled and tipped her head to the side. “Why so hostile, Ulfric?” she asked in her cultured tones. “After all, it’s not the Thalmor who are burning your farms and killing your sons.”
Ulfric growled. “You know exactly why…”
Dardeh turned to look at Roggi. But Roggi was gazing at Ulfric with what Dardeh thought was an expression of understanding and sympathy. Ulfric started to seat himself, but saw Roggi’s attention on him, and the two of them locked eyes for just a brief moment before Ulfric turned his gaze to the table in front of him. The whole exchange lasted only a second or two.
Roggi knows. That’s one of the things he has to hold over over Ulfric but look at him. He understands what happened to Ulfric at her hands and in spite of wishing he could take his own revenge on Ulfric he knows better than almost anyone else in this room how bad it must have been. In spite of what he used to do, he is still a kind person.
Dardeh caught Ulfric’s eye for just a moment as Galmar finally sat down. I’m sorry, Ulfric. It shouldn’t have happened to you or anyone else. He looked down at the table and shook his head. Nobody else in this room aside from the three of us knows what just happened.
Ulfric raised his head and calmly demanded Markarth.
“That is our price for agreeing to a truce.”
It didn’t surprise Dardeh, given Ulfric’s personal history with Markarth and his own overblown self-importance, but it did surprise the Imperial side of the table. They erupted into shouting and accusations, outraged snorting and harrumphing, and Tullius finally had to raise his voice to get his delegation back under control. Then he addressed Ulfric.
“You can’t seriously expect us to give up Markarth at the negotiating table. You couldn’t take it in battle, so you will try to take it here?”
Ulfric opened his mouth to respond but Arngeir interrupted him, saying “I’m sure Jarl Ulfric does not expect something for nothing.”
Clever, Arngeir. For someone who does not involve himself with politics you’re pretty good at it.
As if he had read Dardeh’s mind, Arngeir looked down the table at him. “Now then, Dragonborn. What do you say would be a sufficient exchange for Markarth?”
Oh gods. It’s up to me?
He looked around the table, slowly, getting no sense from any of them what might be a reasonable choice. Then he looked at Balgruuf, and his mind flashed back to the map on Balgruuf’s table. The red or blue flags over each town and city, the pattern they made across Skyrim. If the Stormcloaks took Markarth there would be a stalemate of sorts in the northwest given that Solitude was firmly in the Imperial camp. Falkreath, to the south, was under Imperial control, in part because it was closest to Cyrodiil. And the other hold that was closest to the Imperial Province was…
“Riften.”
The table erupted.
Ulfric bolted from his chair, enraged, with Galmar close beside him. “Don’t hand me this mug of sheep’s piss and call it mead! Unacceptable!”
Dardeh cleared his throat. “Ulfric. Galmar. Wait a moment. Think about this. You get the north, the Empire gets the south, and everything is put on hold at least until I have a crack at Alduin.”
Ulfric ignored him and headed for the door, and he might have simply left if not for Esbern. He raised his voice, catching everyone off-guard and commanding their attention.
“Stop! Are you so blind to our danger that you can’t see past your petty disagreements? Here you sit arguing about… nothing! While the fate of the land hangs in the balance!”
Ulfric turned to Delphine and snarled. “Is he with you? If so, I would advise you to tell him to hold his tongue.”
Delphine snapped back at him. “Yes he is, and I would advise you to listen to what he has to say before you do anything rash.”
Esbern rose, and his voice along with him. He looked angry, but even more than that he looked distressed. His hands punctuated his words. “Don’t you understand the danger? Don’t you understand what the return of the dragons means? Alduin has returned! The World-eater! Even now, he devours the souls of your fallen comrades! He grows more powerful with every soldier slain in your… pointless war. Can you not put aside your hatred for even one moment in the face of this mortal danger?”
Talos preserve me. He eats… the souls of the dead? Dardeh hadn’t heard this before but had no doubt that Esbern knew what he was talking about.
There was a moment of complete, stunned silence, and then Elenwen spoke. “A very pretty speech, but what does it have to do with…”
“Shut up,” Ulfric snapped, and she did, her eyes widening. He looked across the room at Tullius. “The Dragonborn told me of Alduin as well. If this is true, we both have just as much to lose, Tullius.”
Dardeh cleared his throat. “If I may speak.” The whole room looked at him. He swallowed hard, his mouth dry.
“We all have just as much to lose, not just the two of you and your armies. If we can’t stop Alduin, none of the politics will matter at all because we will cease to exist. Both in Skyrim and everywhere else,” he added, looking pointedly at Elenwen. “Do you all understand that? Do you? Esbern isn’t just making this up out of thin air.”
Nobody spoke, so he continued.
“Jarl Balgruuf has agreed to help me with this, but it can’t happen if all of you are running roughshod over his hold and feeding Alduin more souls in the process.”
He was shaking.
“Please do the right thing. This is going to be hard enough for me to accomplish even under the best of circumstances.” And I’m the only one who can, Ulfric, he thought, exchanging a long look with the Jarl. You know this to be true.
He glanced at Arngeir. Well here I am, in the full arrogance of my power. You were right. On the other hand… so am I.
He could feel Roggi’s reassurance radiating from beside him, but didn’t dare turn to look at him.
“Very well,” Ulfric said, resuming his seat. The rest of the table relaxed and sat, and Dardeh suddenly couldn’t focus on what was happening. Arngeir was reviewing the agreement. He distantly heard the names of Jarls and Thanes and minor holds, but he felt faint and couldn’t focus on it at all.
Roggi reached out and squeezed his arm. “Well done,” he murmured. “It’s going to be ok. Take a deep breath.”
Dardeh looked at Roggi’s calm, blue eyes and smiled. “Thank you, Roggi,” he said. “I’m really glad you were here. It helped a lot.” He felt eyes on him and looked up to find Ulfric watching them. He smiled. Yes, Ulfric. You were right. I love him. It will never amount to a thing, but there it is. You had your chance. Ulfric gave him the smallest nod and turned to leave with Galmar.
Sometimes I wonder if these people can hear my thoughts. That was strange.
Tullius and Ulfric and their parties filtered out of the room, leaving the Greybeards, the Blades, and Balgruuf. Balgruuf turned to face Dardeh and smiled.
“I’m ready to do my part, Dragonborn,” he said. “But how do you intend to capture a dragon in my palace?”
“I… don’t know.”
Esbern stepped forward. “I have been doing some research, Dragonborn, and have come across some old scrolls that seem to contain the name of one of the dragons. I will give you this name: Odahviing. Perhaps if you Shout his name he will appear to you.”
“Why would he do that?” Dardeh asked. “I can make a dragon land with a Shout but to have one come to me?”
“Dragons are prideful by nature, and loathe to ignore a challenge,” Esbern told him. “If it is you issuing the challenge, I am sure the temptation to respond will be especially hard to resist.”
Prideful by nature. Just like me, I guess. Dardeh saw himself standing at the summit of Apocrypha, staring across it at Miraak. Just like us. We truly both were of the dragon blood at that moment, weren’t we.
“Thank you, Esbern.”
“I’ll return to Dragonsreach and make preparations,” Balgruuf said. “We’ll see whether we can capture your dragon.”
Dardeh smiled. “Thank you, my Jarl,” he said. Balgruuf raised his eyebrow and grinned at him, then left the room, followed by the Greybeards.
Dardeh nodded to Roggi and turned to go, but Delphine caught him by the arm.
“There’s one more thing. We know about Paarthurnax.”
“What about him?”
“We know that he’s a dragon. The Greybeards have been protecting him all these years.”
Annoying woman. “And?”
“And you need to kill him. He was the right hand of Alduin. He committed atrocities so famous they are still remembered thousands of years later.”
Dardeh stared at her in disbelief. “You do realize that we couldn’t have gotten to this point without his help, don’t you? We would just be sitting around waiting for Alduin to finish eating the world.”
She frowned. “Yes, we needed his help but we don’t need it any longer. He needs to die. He deserves to die. And it falls to you to kill him. I’m sorry but… until he is dead, it would dishonor our oaths as Blades if we continued to help you.”
Dardeh looked at Roggi, astonished, and then back at Delphine.
“Fine.”
She turned and left with Esbern.
Roggi stood beside him, a concerned look on his face. “You’re not really going to kill him, are you? Or are you?”
“Not in this lifetime. Not unless he does something harmful. Those two can go back to their hidey hole and rot as far as I’m concerned. Especially her. Esbern is annoying but useful. Delphine is … impossible. She won’t help me? Fine. I can’t think of anything I need her help with any longer, anyway.”
Roggi grinned at him. “Good. He may be a dragon but… I kind of like him. I can’t believe I’m saying that. So I guess we have to go back to Whiterun now?”
Dardeh blew out a breath. “I guess so. Gods, Roggi, I am just not ready for this. Well here’s the immediate question. Do we stay here tonight? We can. Arngeir opened the place to me. Or….”
Roggi shook his head. “We walk down the mountain. I think the inn in Ivarstead will be a lot more comfortable.”
Dardeh smiled at him. “All right then. Let’s go.”