“So tell me again why we’re going to Whiterun first?”
It was a beautiful day. Bright, sunny, and as warm as it ever got in Skyrim; and Dardeh’s spirits were high along with it. He glanced at his husband and grinned.
“I would have thought you’d be happy we had an excuse to get away from Rayya.”
Roggi snorted. “And if I am happy about that?”
Dardeh laughed.
Rayya had in fact spent the early morning hours staring at Dardeh with an almost hungry look in her eyes. He finally had taken her aside to speak to her. It seemed prudent to him to nip things in the bud.
“Listen, Rayya. I’d hoped we wouldn’t need to have this conversation, but here we are. You need to understand something about me. I am married to Roggi. Roggi is,” and he’d smiled at the broad back leaning over the oven as he pulled out some meat pies, “a man, as you can see. If I hadn’t met Roggi I might have eventually married someone else, but it would have been a man. Do you understand?”
Rayya had stared at him for a moment, with her incredible eyes wide and full of what looked to him like longing, and then had sighed.
“Yes, sir. It’s just that I’ve never met anyone like you before.”
Dardeh grinned. “And you’re not likely to, either. As far as anyone knows, I’m the only Dragonborn currently alive. But it’s important that you understand. This has nothing to do with you, personally. I’m just …” He paused, not quite knowing how to finish.
“Married,” Rayya said with a smirk. “And I guess I have met other men like you before.” She shook her head. “I always seem to be attracted to the ones who aren’t available. I hope you won’t hold it against me.”
“Oh, no, don’t worry about it. I’m, uh,” he ran his hand up over his hair, still slightly surprised to find it loose rather than in tight braids. “I’m used to it. At any rate, Rayya, you are quite welcome here. We don’t often have much need to fight here at the house, but once the girls are home it will make me feel much better to have you here as well.”
Rayya smiled. “Thank you. Speaking of children, I’ve noticed that your house is a little dusty. I’ll have it pristine for their return.” She’d turned and made for the closed doorway to the children’s room, opening it up and tsking at the staleness of the air and the amount of cleaning that needed to happen.
Roggi hadn’t said much at the time, but it had been clear to Dardeh that he still didn’t trust Rayya.
“Why are you laughing, Dar?” Roggi grumbled. “It’s not funny.”
“It is if you’re me,” Dardeh said. “If I had a septim for every time I’ve had to have that conversation since I was a young man, we’d never have to work again, Roggi. Don’t worry about it. And we’re going to Whiterun first because one of the people milling around that dragon told us someone in Whiterun was looking for me, remember? We have to head east anyway; this is just a bit of a long and scenic route.”
“Oh. Right.” Roggi shot him a sideways glance and smiled. “I’m sorry to always be on edge about things, Dar. It’s just that I’ve never had very good luck with my love life, you know?”
They were approaching Whiterun now, and Dardeh could see the piles of burned rubble outside its walls. People had obviously been working to clear the damage from the battle, but hadn’t gotten much farther than the gates. He frowned, and pointed.
“Looks like things aren’t back to normal yet. I wonder if there’s something we can do to help?” Then he chuckled. “As to the other thing, Roggi, it seems to me you’ve gotten lucky quite a bit in your lifetime, from what you’ve told me.” He couldn’t keep the grin off his face, but didn’t dare look Roggi in the eyes for fear of laughing outright at him.
It didn’t matter, because Roggi burst out laughing anyway. “Dar, you shock me.” Dardeh snickered. “I mean long-term. And ok, I’ll stop gnawing it to bits.”
“Well, I think we both need to work on that. I shouldn’t automatically assume the worst every time I see someone smile at you, either. Come on, let’s go see how the place looks. I’m feeling a little guilty about our part in what’s happened to it.” They walked up the long roadway to Whiterun’s gates and entered the city.
Whiterun looked to have returned to normal, at least on first glance. The children were still racing about in the streets; Adrianne Avenicci pounded metal at her workbench as she always had. And yet here and there as they proceeded toward the center of town was a whiff of burned timber, a decorative bush trampled, a gouge in a wall. Severio Pelagia’s house up on the hillside had been struck by one of the burning projectiles flung by Ulfric’s siege engines. Dardeh stood before it and shook his head. It didn’t look salvageable to him, with one of its two massive ridgepoles shattered and charred. Dardeh wasn’t too concerned about Pelagia himself; after all, he also owned a farm outside the city and doubtless had gone there during the battle. But the damage still bothered him.
We talked Ulfric into attacking. We’re at least partially responsible for this.
They passed the marketplace and mounted the steps to the Wind District, and Dardeh gasped at the sight. The small cottage tucked into a corner before Jorrvaskr’s stone retaining walls had been largely destroyed, a massive hole in its roof and a deep pile of rubble blocking its door. It had been the home of Heimskr, the priest of Talos; now he seemed to be living in a tent pitched on the embankment behind the shrine.
Just in front of them was an even sadder sight. The once-beautiful trellis that encircled the great Gildergreen tree was barely standing, parts of it hanging at crazy angles and held up by sheer luck, as far as Dardeh could see. Portions of the fencing had been completely flattened. This central area of Whiterun had always been a bit depressing as it was, given the great tree’s lack of foliage; but now, with all the damage around it, the sight made Dardeh’s heart ache.
He turned to Roggi. “What do you think? Does it look to you like this trellis can be fixed?”
Roggi made a slow circuit of the area, examining the base of the timbers. “Yeah, I think so. It looks like most of the problem is that things just got pushed out of alignment. Not too many pieces are truly destroyed. You know, if we could round up a few big guys to help us hold it up and a bunch of nails, we could probably put it right again in not too long.”
Dardeh nodded. “That’s what I thought, too. Let’s go see who we can get to help.”
They started at the Bannered Mare, Dardeh’s other thought being that perhaps the man who was looking for them might be there. As lovely a day as it was, though, the place was largely deserted. Brenuin, the beggar, said he’d help if he could get a coin out of the deal; Dardeh laughed and agreed, telling him to meet them near the tree in half an hour or so.
They retraced their steps through the city and entered the Drunken Huntsman to look for help. A skinny man wearing plain clothing and a cloth hat ran up to them as soon as they’d entered the place.
“By the Nine!” he exclaimed. “I can’t believe it’s you! I was just asking around if anyone knew where I could find you.”
Dardeh blinked. “Me? Ah, are you the person who was looking for me in Falkreath a day or so ago?”
“Aye! My master and I recently arrived here in Skyrim from Cyrodiil. He sent me to see if I could find you. I checked the tavern and inns in Falkreath first, and then thought I’d start here when I didn’t. But fortunately the gods favor me today, for you’ve found me instead!”
“So what can I do for you?”
“We heard of your escape from that awful dragon attack in Helgen and he urgently needs to speak to you. That’s all I know. He’s at the inn in Falkreath. Could you please meet him there at your earliest convenience?”
“Falkreath?” Roggi burst out. “You’re kidding me. That’s where we’ve just come from!”
Dardeh grinned at him. “It’s ok, Roggi. We’ll be going back there when we’re done here, but our ‘earliest convenience’ is likely to be a few days yet. We have an important errand in Riften first.”
“Well, here,” the man said, looking disappointed. “He gave me this note to give you. I’ll head back there and tell him that I’ve found you. And that you’ll be back in a few days or so. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll be off. I have other errands to run as well.” Before either Dardeh or Roggi could say more, the man had darted out the door.
“Well that was odd,” Dardeh murmured, breaking the seal on the note and skimming it. “The man thinks I may have some information he desperately needs because I was at Helgen when it got hit. I don’t know, Ralof likely knows more than I do. Or Ulfric. They survived it, too. But I guess it won’t hurt to talk to him.”
“After we’re done getting the girls home, Dar.”
“Yes, dear,” Dardeh said, slipping a sideways glance at Roggi. Roggi didn’t look at him, but Dardeh saw his brow furrow in mock annoyance.
“Don’t make me hurt you,” Roggi mumbled.
Dardeh laughed. “Come on, let’s go see if Ulthberth will give us a hand. He’s a big guy.”
—
A few hours later, they walked around the Gildergreen and admired their handiwork. Ulthberth had been happy to help out, especially after Dardeh spent a goodly amount of gold on nails and iron fittings to replace the ones that had been bent out of shape. They’d gotten Farkas, Vilkas, and Torvar from the Companions to lend their bulk to the process, and both Jon Battle-Born and Amren the mercenary had stopped on their rounds to hold up some of the more precariously-leaning timbers while Roggi and Dardeh wrestled the new fittings into place. With so many muscles and hands working together they’d put the place back together in a fraction of the time it would have taken otherwise; and Dardeh had thanked them all profusely and slipped Brenuin a couple of septims for his help.
“You should head on up to the keep,” Jon Battle-Born had said before he left. “Let the new Jarl know what you’ve done. It was a great service to Whiterun and we’re glad to have you back in town.”
“I guess I will,” Dardeh said. “Thanks.” He turned to Roggi, who was resting on one of the benches at the base of the tree. “I feel a little odd about going up there, but I’d like to make sure everything’s ok.”
“Yeah, we should. There’s nothing you can do about the fact that Balgruuf was a stubborn fool, and Battle-Born is right. You did a good thing for this city, and Vignar should know about it. Let’s go.” He rose and began leading Dardeh around the tree.
“Thank you for repairing the trellis,” a woman’s voice said, just beside where they’d been. Dardeh looked down to see a pair of the clerics from the Temple of Kynareth, enjoying a break from their healing duties. The woman smiled up at him. “It’s a shame about the tree, though, isn’t it? If only we could bring it to life again! It was planted as a seedling from the Eldergleam – probably the oldest living thing in Skyrim – when the first men arrived from Atmora in the early days of Whiterun. It’s kind of an eyesore these days. A big dead tree isn’t very inspiring if you’ve come to worship the divine of wind and rains.”
Dardeh looked past her, at the tree. It wasn’t very inspiring, to be sure; it had no leaves and looked as though it might have been struck by lightning. It was the same bleak grayish-brown as the weathered wood of the trellis surrounding it. “It is a shame,” he found himself saying. “I wonder if it could be restored somehow. It doesn’t feel dead to me.”
“Well,” the priestess said, “I think I know a way. These old beings never really die, they just sleep. The Eldergleam grows in a sanctuary far to the east. If we had some of its sap, I’m sure we could wake the child. But to harvest it you’d need the old magic. I’ve heard of a weapon called Nettlebane, made from sacrificed spriggans by the Hagravens. It’s in a nest called Orphan Rock, up past Helgen.”
Dardeh smiled at her.
Helgen seems to be calling for me today.
“I’ll tell you what. How about I go get Nettlebane for you? I’d like to see this tree restored, as well. It might give us all a little hope for the future.”
The priestess reached out and squeezed his hand. “Your spirit is strong. Kynareth’s winds guide your path.”
Roggi was standing with his arms crossed, shaking his head, as Dardeh joined him. “What have you gotten us into now, Dar? I thought you were in a hurry to get the girls.”
“Yeah, yeah. Look, they’ll be safe with Brynjolf and Sayma for a few more days. They’re probably having a ball with young Bryn. Let me do this, Roggi.” He shrugged. “Nobody knows what I did with Alduin. You’ve told me that often enough, and it’s true. Let this be something they can point to and say ‘the Dragonborn did this for us.’”
“Starting to take yourself seriously, eh?” Roggi teased as they walked up the stairs toward Dragon’s Reach.
“Well, maybe a little bit. I’ve earned it, though, haven’t I? I’d like to be able to have something, I don’t know, tangible to show for all the effort you and I have expended in the past couple of years.” He smiled at his husband. “Because you’re as much a part of it as I am.”
Roggi laughed. “No. I’ll never be able to make a word in dragon language, Dar. Or push people out of the way with my voice. But if I’ve helped you, that’s good enough for me.”
Dardeh pushed open the door to Dragon’s Reach and chuckled. “You helped me, and you helped Ulfric, and you helped that guy up there,” he said, pointing to the elderly man seated in what had been Balgruuf the Greater’s throne.
“There you are, Dragonborn,” Vignar Gray-Mane said as they approached the throne. “I wondered when you’d return. I understand you’ve repaired the trellis. Well done.”
“Well, it wasn’t just me, Jarl Vignar. There were a great many of us who worked on it. Your friends from Jorrvaskr, even Jon Battle-Born helped. But yes! The trellis is back together. Whiterun seems on its way to recovering from the war. I have to say I’m relieved. I… was very troubled that we had to damage it in order to overthrow the Legion.”
“Eh,” the old man said, waving a hand in the air. “It had to happen. For thirty years I served the Legion as a commander. Fought in the Great War. But when the Legion surrendered to the Aldmeri Dominion they shamed us all! Good riddance to them. Now Whiterun belongs to its rightful heirs.” He leaned forward and peered at Dardeh. “By the way, boy. It just so happens that I have an opening for a Thane in my court. It’s an honorary title, for the most part, but…”
Dardeh laughed. “Well I wasn’t expecting that. I was a Thane here before we attacked, sir. If you’re offering me the spot once more, I’d be honored to accept it. You do know though, that I live just across the hold border into Falkreath.”
“Yes, of course I know that. I’m not a fool, son. But you also own a home in Whiterun and therefore,” he continued, rushing ahead before Dardeh could interrupt to say that he’d given that home to Lydia, “I hereby name you Thane of Whiterun. Et cetera, et cetera. Oh yes, I give you a housecarl, and this weapon to serve as your badge of office. Now go forth and multiply. Or whatever it is that you do, Dragonborn. And thank you.”
Dardeh laughed. The old man was so very unsuited to the niceties and rituals of rule, and yet he knew exactly what he was doing, there was no doubt about it. It occurred to him that the same could be said for the new Jarl of Falkreath Hold; both of them were crusty old warriors whose time had returned at last.
“Thank you, Jarl Vignar. I’ll do my best to continue helping Whiterun.”
He turned to find Roggi shaking his head. “Dardeh, my love, you have this habit of getting yourself in over your head.” Then he smiled. “But I’m proud of you. Twice-Thaned! You’d best not be giving me the ‘only a miner’ line any time soon.”
Dardeh ran one hand up over his head. “Yeah, I’m not quite sure what to think of it myself. Well, let’s go. It’s a long hike up to Orphan Rock.”
They were almost to the doors of the keep when a quiet voice interrupted them.
“Greetings, my Thane. I am your sword and your shield.”
Dardeh stopped. His mouth dropped open as the dark-haired beauty he’d once called a work of art stepped out from behind one of the keep’s massive support pillars to stand before them. She looked hesitant; her eyes held both pain and joy together even as they questioned him.
“Lydia!” he breathed.
“Yes, my Thane. Jarl Vignar has appointed me to be your Housecarl. If you will have me, that is.”
Dardeh stood staring at her for another moment, unable to quite grasp what was happening. Then he crossed the space between them in two long strides and wrapped himself around her.
“Lydia. By the Nine, Lydia, I was afraid you’d been killed in the battle but here you are. Oh, the gods are good. Of course, Lydia. Of course we will have you. I am so happy you’re here.” He held her for a long moment, rocking back and forth; and when she made a sound it was half laughter, half tears.
“Dar. Give a guy a chance to say hello, would you?”
Roggi peeled Dardeh away from Lydia and then wrapped her in a warm embrace of his own. “It’s good to see you again, Lydia,” he murmured next to her ear. “We’ve missed you. Very much.”
Lydia smiled at Roggi. “Thank you, my friend,” she said simply. “I thought you would reject me, both of you, because I came back at Balgruuf’s call.”
“No, no, we understood,” Roggi said, shaking his head. “Listen, I was a soldier for a long time before I went back to mining. Your commander calls for you and you report in. That’s just how it is.”
Dardeh grimaced. Yes. Even if your commander did things to hurt you.
Lydia looked down at the floor, seeming not to want to meet their gazes. “He… wouldn’t take me with him, after the battle was over. He told me I belonged to Whiterun, not to him, and he told me to stay here.” She looked up at Dardeh, and he saw unshed tears standing in her eyes. “It was hard to watch them leave, Dar.”
So it was Balgruuf? Is that what you’re saying to us, Lydia? How cruel of him, to just use you like that.
“I’m sure it was. But you know you’re always welcome with us. You know that, right?”
She smiled, and nodded, blinking back tears and not speaking.
Dardeh smiled at Roggi and then turned to her again. “Besides, I have this Axe of Whiterun for you to guard.” He handed it to her, and she snickered. “Hey, you know how you’ve always said you wanted to go fighting with us? Well, we have this job to do…” He slipped one arm around her shoulders and turned her toward the door as he started to describe what they’d be doing in order to revive the Gildergreen tree.
___
“MID- VUR SHAAN!”
Dardeh chuckled as his voice ricocheted off the rocks of the pass, returning to him like a clap of thunder. He looked back at Roggi – who was grinning – and Lydia, who looked shocked.
“What in the world was that?”
“Feeling energetic?” Dardeh asked her. “That’s what it’s for. Helps in fighting things. I figured if we’re up against a hagraven, every little bit helps.”
“Yes!” she said, breaking out into a broad smile. “I do feel energetic. Wow, Dardeh, I’ve been missing out all this time.”
Dardeh pushed forward up the path leading north from the roadway. This was going to be tricky; the day had turned cloudy and the light was just low enough that seeing past the dark trees to find living shapes was a challenge. He pulled out his bow and fitted an arrow to the string, holding it at the ready as he peered into the undergrowth for any signs of movement. If not for the sudden flash of magic being cast, quite some way ahead, he would never have seen the mage engaging a lone soldier.
A moment later, Lydia shouted.
“Come on! Come on!” The Dunmer mage emerged from behind a tree and cast a fireball that whizzed into the narrow gap between Lydia and Roggi. Roggi roared and attacked the woman. Lydia stepped in to slice at her with the axe, then fell back.
“YOL- TOOR SHUL!”
The fireball blasted from Dardeh and consumed the mage, as both Roggi and Lydia backpedaled away from it as fast as they could. The mage was still.
“Dardeh!” Lydia breathed.
“By Ysmir, Dar. You killed her with it!” Roggi said.
“That was the idea, Roggi. At least that time I knew I was doing it.”
“You’ve gotten stronger.”
Dardeh nodded and gave his husband a grim smile. I’ve been this strong for a long time. You’ve just never seen it. Why do you think I was so worried about facing Ulfric while I wasn’t sure of my own sanity?
A moment later, another witch came tearing through the forest toward them, proclaiming that she would see them burn. Roggi sighed heavily, lifted his dragonbone sword and brought it down through her torso as if it was the most routine thing he’d done all day. They continued around the base of a large rock outcropping, the top of which would be inaccessible if not for a fallen log that acted as a bridge from the next embankment. Dardeh was about to point at the log when a shock spell slammed into him. He gasped, breathless with pain; but once again Roggi rushed past him with his sword held high.
“Last mistake!” he growled at the woman who had cast the spell before running her through.
“Thanks, Roggi,” Dardeh murmured, waving them forward toward the log bridge.
A fireball suddenly exploded not too far from Lydia.
“Get them!” she shrieked, as Roggi dashed toward the mage with Dardeh in pursuit. And then he lost track of Roggi and Lydia both. He could hear the sounds of their combat behind him, but couldn’t turn back to help; for just across the log in front of him was the hagraven they’d come to kill. He Shouted fire breath at her; it pushed her off-balance for a moment but did not kill her, for she was a creature attuned to fire magic herself. As she straightened and gathered magic in her claws Dardeh sprinted into her with both weapons moving. It took him two attacks to drop the creature, but drop she did. In the quiet that followed he examined her corpse and found that she wore a short blade of strange design, its wavy blade narrowing to an up-curved point.
This has to be Nettlebane. Now to get us out of here in one piece.
He rose to his feet and was about to stretch when there was an explosion behind him. He whirled and dashed for the log bridge; on the other side Lydia was engaged with yet another witch. He had just a moment to register the impressive shield bash Lydia used on the hag, staggering her; then he slipped sideways off the log and had to scramble up the side of the embankment. Lydia and the hag had disappeared around a tall pine tree, but he could hear them fighting. He ran to assist; and just as he reached the tree heard the distinctive sound of a sword sliding through fabric and flesh, and a groan that was definitely not Lydia’s.
She stepped back into the open, grinning from ear to ear.
“I guess I didn’t need to come rescue you, huh,” Dardeh said.
“You didn’t realize that already, Dar?” Roggi laughed as he trotted up the slope to meet them.
“Yeah, I guess I did; but it’s something to see in action. Let’s get back to Whiterun.”
Eldergleam Sanctuary was quiet, and moist, and smelled like growing things and good, fertile soil. Dardeh looked around in the dim moonlight that filtered down through the opening at the very top of this huge cavern, and spied what they’d come for: perched on a ledge just beneath the opening, with its huge roots spreading down the sides of the cavern toward the running water below, was a great tree covered in pink blossoms. He said nothing, merely pointed up toward the tree. Roggi and Lydia nodded. The man who had accompanied them there – one Maurice Jondrelle, a pilgrim who had been badgering the priestess Danica when they returned to Whiterun – started up the path toward the tree, only to stop and speak to a man who was resting on a grassy knoll beside the water.
The path wound around the edge of the cavern, over a running stream and next to several pools. In addition to the man Maurice had stopped to speak with there was a young woman wandering the grass. Dardeh continued up the path, followed by Roggi; Lydia, however, approached the young woman.
Not far up the slope they discovered why they needed a special weapon to harvest sap from the tree. Some of its huge roots had grown down across the path. Neither one of them could jump high enough to get atop or past it. Roggi tried using his massive grip to pull the roots aside, but they wouldn’t budge. Dardeh thought for a moment and pulled out his double-edged sword.
“I hate to do this to you, old girl, but you have to let us pass,” he murmured. Then he swung with all his strength. The sword clanged as it struck the woody root and ricocheted back so hard that he had to dodge it.
“So, is this what Nettlebane is for?” Roggi asked.
“I guess. Who would have thought it would be this hard to move a root? I surely don’t want to use fire on it; all I’d do is start a mess in this sanctuary.” He found the odd dagger in his pack and gripped it.
The thing did seem to have an energy to it, if not something he recognized as magic. The old magic, she called it. Maybe the tree will know what it is, if she’s as old as Danica suggested. She had sent them here after admitting that she didn’t want to touch the dagger.
He took an easy swing at the root. To his amazement it drew up, and back, pulling itself away from the blade as though it was terrified. Dardeh turned to look at Roggi and shrugged.
“I guess that was it. Let’s go.”
There were two other huge roots blocking the way to the tree, and both of them responded to the blade with the same sort of dread. Dardeh found himself growing a bit concerned.
“I hope we’re doing the right thing here.”
He approached the trunk. The Eldergleam was a massive thing, many times Dardeh’s circumference, with bark so thick that he could place his individual fingers in its folds. He did so, and closed his eyes, and found that he felt some sort of energy in the enormous plant. In spite of how it might have looked to anyone else he started speaking to it.
“We’re not here to hurt you, old sweetheart. We just need a bit of your sap – just a little bit of it – so that your child in Whiterun can awaken from her slumber. Please let us do this. I won’t take any more than necessary, I promise.”
He heard Roggi harrumph, and opened his eyes to find his husband staring warily down toward the sanctuary below.
“I don’t like it, Dar. I don’t know what I’m sensing, but I don’t like it.”
“Alright. Let me collect the sap and we’ll go.”
Dardeh hated to use the Nettlebane on the tree again, but there was no other choice. He found a spot where the bark was slightly thinner and pierced it, collecting the sap as it began to ooze out; and as he did so it almost seemed as though the tree shuddered.
“Spriggan!” Roggi shouted.
The next few minutes were a blur. Dardeh stashed his vial of sap and bolted to help Roggi with the spriggan. They heard shouting from the sanctuary below, and ran for the path, only to be stopped by another spriggan. Dardeh slashed at it, wishing he could use Fire Breath, for that would certainly take care of the problem; but he was still afraid of setting the rest of the Sanctuary – or gods forbid, the Eldergleam itself – alight. They finally bested the creature and hurtled down the path to where Lydia was fully engaged with a much larger spriggan matron. Dardeh started toward her, but Roggi dashed past him and began hacking at the matron. Dardeh heard a scream from farther down the path and bolted toward it; but as he rounded the corner and crossed onto the grassy area he watched the young woman fall to another spriggan. He roared and rushed forward, slashing at the beast, pushing it back toward the stream, closer and closer to the water until finally he could no longer contain his rage.
“YOL- TOOR SHUL!”
The spriggan burned instantly, its ashes falling harmlessly into the water and being swept away. Dardeh ran back to the young woman who had fallen, hoping that there was some chance she might be saved. She was already going cold.
“No. You poor thing. I’m so sorry,” he said, finding himself weeping in spite of not having known her. He knelt there for a moment, struggling to compose himself, and then heard Roggi and Lydia approaching.
“We lost all of them, Dar,” Roggi said quietly. “Even that Maurice guy. I feel bad. All he wanted to do was worship the damn tree.”
“It’s not your fault, my Thane,” Lydia said, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Spriggans don’t have any kind of higher understanding. They just protect what they protect. They had no way to know you mean to revive the tree in Whiterun.”
Dardeh shook his head, and heaved himself to his feet. “You don’t understand, Lydia,” he said. “I lost people in Solstheim because I was too slow. I lost people in battles, here, because I was too slow. If I’d been a bit faster I might have been able to save…”
“Dardeh,” Lydia said sternly. “That’s quite enough of that. This was not your fault. It’s not anybody’s fault. You did your best, and so did we, and now we’ll go home and wait for the Gildergreen to show her full beauty once more.”
Dardeh stared at Lydia for a moment, startled that she’d just ordered him around, and then began to smile.
“What’s so funny?” she asked, frowning.
“I’ve missed having you nag me, Lydia. Roggi can’t do it all by himself. It’s good to have you back.”
As Roggi snickered, Dardeh pulled Lydia into another warm embrace. He put his mouth near her ear and whispered, “Thank you.”
___
It was full dark on the following night by the time they reached Whiterun and delivered the vial of sap to Danica Pure-Spring. She was delighted that they’d succeeded. Dardeh decided not to tell her about the high price they’d needed to pay to secure the sap.
He also didn’t mention the vampires that had come roaring out onto the road just south of Valtheim Towers. They’d taken care of all of them, thanks in part to Dardeh’s dragon fire; but Roggi had fussed at him the whole way from there to Whiterun. Was he alright? Did he have Sanguinare Vampiris? Why were the vampires attacking him, all of a sudden?
“I don’t think it’s me, Roggi,” he’d said. “They’re vampires. They’ll attack anything that looks like food, as far as I can tell.”
“No, Dar,” Roggi had complained. “You know Brynjolf. He wasn’t just some bloodthirsty animal.”
“How do you know that? Were you with him when he was a vampire?”
“Well, not often, but…”
“Right. Not often. And we don’t know how he acted when he was with Andante.”
And then he’d had to fill in the gaps for Lydia, who hadn’t known about any of those details. They’d caught each other up; they told Lydia about their parts in the war, and she’d told them about how she’d taken Balgruuf’s children to the lowest level of the keep when the battle had started, at his direction, and hadn’t seen anything that had transpired outside the safe confines of Dragon’s Reach. Dardeh, Roggi, and Frina had all been gone by the time she’d emerged with the children only to learn that Balgruuf would not take her with him.
“I’m sorry, Lydia,” Roggi murmured, giving her a one-armed hug. “That must have hurt.”
She nodded. “Yeah, it did,” she said. “He’s a lot older than me but I really thought… well, it doesn’t matter now, does it.”
But it does matter. He hurt me, by rejecting my friendship; and he hurt Lydia by leaving her behind. That makes him not much better than Ulfric, if we’re honest. And that means he is no longer my Jarl.
But now Dardeh found himself smiling down at Lydia as she rested on one of the benches beneath the Gildergreen.
She’s still the most beautiful woman in the world to me. And if I were ever to want a woman, it would only be Lydia. I’m so glad she’s here with us again.
“What do you say, Lydia? We have to go to Riften to get the girls. They’ve been staying with Brynjolf and Sayma. Come with us?”
Lydia smiled up at him.
“I think that would be wonderful, Dardeh.” Then her smile turned to a mischievous smirk. “And then we need to do something about that hair of yours.”
Dardeh’s mouth fell open.
“Why you little…”
“Oho!” Roggi laughed, coming to stand beside him. “Seems just like old times to me, Dar. I haven’t said much about the hair but it was only a matter of time, wasn’t it?”
“Don’t you start on him, Roggi Knot-Beard,” Lydia said. “Yours is still longer than mine and I have ways to fix that, you know.”
Dardeh turned to smile at Roggi.
“I think we’ve met our match, husband. Let’s go gather everyone, and then let’s go home.”
