Disclaimer: I only own a copy of Skyrim.
"So where are we headed?" Karita asked me, her legs swinging.
"Windhelm to live closer to your father," Parwen responded. Karita began to tear up.
"I was just there," she whimpered, burying her head in my side. "He sent me to Honorhall!"
I looked at Parwen, who stared back at me dumbfounded. Pulling her head out of my side, I asked her to better explain what she meant.
"Father had me come to him from my home in Falkreath upon my thirteenth year," she explained. "When I got there, he asked me if I could shout. I shouted, but it wasn't the shouting he liked. He took me to this hidden room behind his throne where he kept this...you'll never believe me but he kept this small dragon there. He had his men killed it, and he got furious because I didn't...absorb the dragon's soul or whatever. He started shouting at this man in his court saying that I didn't have the power of the...thu'um, he called it? Anyway, he claimed the man played tricks on him, though the man said that he didn't because I looked just like the jester. No clue what he meant by that. Father said that I was no daughter of his and sent me to Honorhall."
Parwen looked at me in amazement, and I just carried a blank expression, unsure of what to make of her story.
"You will not have to worry anymore," Parwen finally spoke. "You live with Mathies and I now, we'll take care of you until the day comes when you take your leave."
Karita smiled brightly at her.
"I have plenty of coin from my work with the Companions," I said slowly. "I can surely buy a nice home for you and Karita to live in."
Parwen leaned into me, and I wrapped an arm around her waist.
"You are lucky," she told Karita. "Your brother is a very honorable man. I suppose I'm lucky too to have him as a husband."
"How did you know I was in Honorhall?" Karita asked me.
"Yes, how did you know?" Parwen chipped in. I shrugged my shoulders.
"I just...knew," I said slowly. My family gave me a weird look, but didn't question me further.
Upon reaching Windhelm, I gave Karita some coin and left her to play while I went to talk to my farther with Parwen. If her story was true, then I was sure that Ulfric would kick her out of the hold. While I was there, I'm sure that Parwen and I could buy a nice home for the three of us to live in.
I linked my arm with Parwen's, and we walked in behind Karita. I saw her shriek in childish delight as she ran like mad.
"This place looks awfully depressing," Parwen whispered in my ear. I just nodded. She shivered and huddled closer to me. "And cold."
"A cold, dreary place," I murmured, glancing around. I spied a drunken man yelling racial slurs at a Dunmer woman, who was scowled and walked away quickly. In response, he threw his bottle towards her, just barely missing her.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Parwen pull her hood over her head. Even though it was cold, I knew she wanted to hide that she was a Bosmer from him and the other potential elf-haters that he may have with him. I pulled her closer, silently assuring her that I would protect her as we walked up to the Palace of the Kings.
Opening the door, I saw my father for the first time. He was sitting in his throne, leaned and relaxed with his head propped up by a hand as he listened to a man ramble next to him. Upon seeing me, he stood up straighter. As I approached, Parwen by my side, he stood and walked a few steps to greet me.
"You've grown much since I last saw you," he greeted brightly. His hair was the same color of blond that Neesha used to force-dye it with the potions. My father's hair, however, was growing grey with age. "I'm glad to know that Neesha did not jest when she mentioned you growing so tall and strong. I am correct to assume that the Companions helped you grow in not just strength, but honor."
I nodded.
"They helped me improve my abilities with the sword, and through them I became very honorable," I replied. He nodded in approval, suddenly shifting his gaze to Parwen.
"Is this the beloved you mentioned in your letter?" he asked.
"Yes," I told him. "This is Parwen. She was a bard."
Parwen shyly let her hood fall. My father's eager, excited expression turned dark as he started at her. She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.
"Please tell me you jest when you say that you married a thieving little elf harlot."
I saw Parwen's eyes grow wide, and my jaw dropped in complete shock. By the Gods, please tell me I misheard that. The look on my father's face said that he meant every single word he said, the words I was hoping I misheard were words he clearly meant. Loud and clear.
"I do not jest," was all I could manage to say in my complete surprise. He scowled at me.
"You need to return to Riften immediately and request a divorce," he ordered. I began to see red. I do not believe I had ever been so furious in my life. Imaged of stabbing him with my Skyforge steel flashed through my head.
"No," I said firmly. He gave me a look telling me that this wasn't an option, but I did not back down. "I love Parwen, and she loves me. She is not a thief, nor is she a harlot. We were wed with Mara's blessing, and I will continue being bound to her, now and forever as I promised her not two days ago."
Parwen looked relieved that I stood up for her, and my father seemed internally conflicted on what to do. I briefly wondered if he would be as extreme to kill Parwen.
"Fine," he finally said, his voice low and dangerous. "You can keep your marriage to the elf harlot. But both of you have to live in the Grey Corner."
"No problem," I replied hotly.
He scowled again before waving over somebody who set up the arrangements for our new home in the Grey Corner.
"This place is small," Karita complained. I shrugged my shoulders. When I lived with the Companions, I slept in the combined sleeping quarters. When Henrik got his own room after he became part of the Circle, he let me share his room for the sleeping quarters by that time had become crowded. The small, two roomed house seemed huge to me.
"Small, but nice and cozy," Parwen smiled, handing her her sleeping furs. The girl accepted it and placed it on her bed.
It was cozy. A kitchen area combined with a family and dining room, a small bed pushed against the wall in the corner for Karita. The small house had an upstairs with a bedroom, which was for Parwen and I.
"Honorhall is about this size," I reminded Karita. "And they had many children living there. Here, it's just Parwen, you and I."
"True, she admitted. "May I go out and play?"
"Sure," I said, waving at the door, encouraging her to go. She squealed and ran outside. I closed the door behind her.
"Thanks for sticking up for me earlier," Parwen told me as she put the last few of our things away. I came up behind her, hugging her tightly.
"Of course I did," I replied, kissing her cheek. "I love you. I would not let anybody, not even my dad, talk horribly of you. He does not even know you."
She beamed and turned in my arms to kiss me.
"You're a good man," she murmured, holding me close and kissing me again.
Before we could go further, a knock distracted us. I pulled away to go see who it was. A courier smiled at me and handed me three letters. I nodded and gave him a coin tip before shutting the door.
"Who was it?" Parwen asked.
"Courier," I replied, waving the letters.
"From who?" she inquired.
The first one was from the Companions (and Ysolda), wondering if we arrived safely and wishing us many years of good marriage. The second was an invite to visit a new museum in Dawnstar, and the last was a written request from my father for me to join him for dinner tonight. He did not waste ink telling me to keep my "thieving elf harlot" at home, that I was to come alone.
Parwen read them too. She was happy to hear from our old friends, also quite interested in visiting said museum. With the last letter, she crumbled it up and tossed it into the fire.
"I do not plan on going," I told her, kissing her forehead. "I much rather stay here with my lovely wife and little sister than listen to my father make racial slurs all night."
She gave a weak smile.
"You should go," she encouraged. "You have not seen your father in years. Karita and I can have a nice night here."
"No," I refused. "My father will have to get over it. You are my wife, you're staying, he needs to get used to the idea."
Parwen sighed heavily, but I saw her smile. I pushed some hair behind her ear and kissed her.
"Now where were we?" she asked suggestively, wrapping her arms around my neck. I grinned and picked her up bridal style, making her giggle.
My father gave an angry growl when he saw me walk in, my arm linked with Parwen's.
"I thought I made it clear in my letter to keep your-"
"I understood your letter," I said, cutting him off before he could insult her again. "But I do not care what you believe. Parwen is my wife, she is staying, you need to get over it and learn to love your daughter-in-law."
He gave me a look that could kill before he spoke, his voice shaking in an attempt to not snap, inviting me and my elf to sit. At least he didn't call her a thief or harlot.
Dinner was full of fake laughs and heavy tensions at first. One wrong word and somebody was going to explode or snap, destroying us all. But thankful, as more mead was served, the looser and more relaxed people became. I decided to control my mead, as did Parwen. I suspect she was more fearful that if she didn't control her mead, that one of them would kill her in a random drunken rage.
Among the servants, I saw Neesha and Brelda. I had greeted the Redguard with much love, faking love for the Dunmer that annoyed me my entire childhood. I wondered if they immediately came to Windhelm after I left for Whiterun, but I didn't bother asking.
I glanced over at my father's throne. Karita had mentioned a secret door that was there that led them to a dragon he slayed. Her story sounded bizarre. Would it be weird if I...actually checked?
Leaning into Parwen, I asked her in a whisper if we should check it out. She nodded, muttering that when the drunks all left for home, that she would join me if I wanted to check.
It didn't take long for them to finish eating and conversation. Most had quickly become very drunk. One by one, they stumbled out the front door or to the stairs. Soon, my father, a man I did not know and Father's right hand man was left. I needed to distract them, so I excused myself to get more mead. Parwen stared after me in slight fear, but I gave her a reassuring look.
"Neesha, can you distract my father?" I asked her.
"Why?" she questioned, handing me more mead. I admitted to her the truth, that I wanted to check for a secret room. My old nursemaid stood on her tiptoes and kissed my cheek, agreeing. I could just feel Brelda glaring at me, but I shrugged it away. "Wuunferth asked me to sent the Jarl to him to speak to him on a matter over an hour ago anyway."
I returned to find Parwen safe, and my father and his right hand man laughing hysterically over a drunken joke. The man I did not know was passed out on top of the table, snoring loudly. I sat next to my wife, seeing her immediate joy in my return.
"My Jarl?" Neesha spoke up. He looked to her. "Your Court Wizard wishes to speak to you."
Both my father and the right hand man stood and went up the stairs. Parwen and I immediately stood when they left. I rushed to the throne and put my hands on the wall next to it.
Parwen and I searched a good five minutes before Parwen finally found the entrance, hidden beneath one of the huge curtains near the throne. I managed to open it, and inside was a small room.
True to her word, a dragon lay on the ground in a small pool of blood. It had dark scales, no signs of it breathing. Eyes closed, stab and burn wounds everywhere, it was definitely dead. I heard Parwen choke up some as she touched one of the scales. My Bosmer was a sucker for animals, no matter how large and deadly. Following her example, I touched one of the scales.
I jerked back with a yelp when my hand starting glowing yellow. Soon, my entire body was glowing yellow, as was the dragon's. The more it's glow died, the stronger mine became.
A few moments later, the glow died down. I stared at Parwen, unsure of what to make of it. She looked just as confused as I did.
"So you are Dragonborn?" I wanted to scream at the very sound of the dreadful woman's voice. "Ulfric wasn't lying."
"What do you want, Brelda?" I growled.
"You never learned your manners, ungrateful brat," she hissed back. "Look, Ulfric will kill me for telling you, but you need to know. You're a child of Sithis, some form of dark spirit present in you."
"You spoke this of me since I was little. And yes, I heard you. Do not deny it," I said with a roll of my eyes.
"It is true," she replied hotly. "I mean not because you were a naughty child, but because of your family."
"You mean Ulfric?" Parwen spoke up curiously.
"No, your real family. Speak not a word of this to Ulfric for he will kill me. It is the least you owe me," she said. I remained quiet. "As a child, you showed the power of the Thu'um, something you inherited from your mother, the Dragonborn. Ulfric knew this and wanted you so that he could train you and use you to his own use. Around the time he learned this, your mother birthed your little sister. He failed twice to get you two. When he finally got his greedy, Nord hands on you two, your parents already knew who was behind the attacks. So he separated you two and sent us to Markarth, and your sister to Winterhold in hopes that your parents would eventually give up hope. Your sister was here earlier, but could not perform the Thu'um. So Ulfric became furious and threw her out."
"I was in my sixth year, but how come I remember nothing before my seventh?" I wanted to know.
"You became critically ill on the journey to Markarth," she explained. "It must have been severe enough to erase your memories. You were in bed for months, asleep and with no response."
"Why are you even telling me this?" I blurted out.
"Surprised that I'm actually helping you?" she asked, dripping with sarcasm. "Truth is, I hate Ulfric. Always have. He's a racist bastard, and I'm done with this little charade after what he did to your sister. You do not just throw a child out because she can not do as you please."
"I found her," I found myself telling her. "She's at my home." Brelda gave me a smile I rarely saw from her.
"Good. Take good care of her. And accept my advice. Leave Windhelm. Go back to Whiterun with the Companions, go find your birth parents, do what you will. Just never associate your name with Ulfric Stormcloak again."
I nodded, head spinning with all this new information. Parwen grabbed my arm and we left the room, and the Palace of the Kings.
"You're back!" Karita was cheerfully there to greet us. I gave her a small smile before sitting in one of the chairs, trying to process and organize my thoughts.
"Sweetheart?" Parwen said after a few moments. "What do you make of what the Dunmer said?"
"I don't know," I admitted, putting my hands on my face, blocking out all the light that suddenly irked me. "But...I do not want to stay here longer. Ulfric is racist, he's cruel and...even if Brelda was lying, I never want to call him Father."
My wife smiled apologetically, giving me a kiss.
"I could have told you that," Karita spoke up. I chuckled at her.
"What do you wish to do?" Parwen asked me, sitting in the other chair. I took a few moments to think.
"I definitely want to leave," I decided.
"I do too," Parwen said quietly. "Ulfric is not the only racist one here. I believe I will fear my life often if we stay."
The words I heard in Dawnstar echoed in my head.
"Lucien, my son. Your father prays at my coffin nightly for the return of his children, and your mother still searches for you and your sister. My Listener is gone, Lucien. Something has happened to her. First, go to Riften, my child. In Honorhall Orphanage, there is a little girl that goes by Karita. She is your sister. Bring my child home to me, at the Dawnstar Sanctuary."
Was this woman talking about my birth parents? And Lucien...could that be my real name? Mathies always did sound too...Nordy...for my tastes. Who was the woman who spoke this to me? She was right about Karita...maybe I should obey what she had to say...
"But where will we go?" Karita asked aloud.
"Dawnstar," I immediately replied. Parwen gave me a curious look, but didn't question me. Karita simply inquired if Dawnstar was as cold as Winterhold was.