Disclaimer: I only own a copy of Skyrim.
A man slowly pulled himself into the room, pausing when he saw me. I held my breath. As I had been told, a mirror image, only his hair had some silver streaks and some other obvious signs of age. Clad in dark red and black armor-Dark Brotherhood armor-, he stood in the doorway. He suddenly burst into giggles, throwing me off guard.
"Poor Cicero is seeing things," he laughed.
"You're not seeing things, fool," Babette told him. Nazir put his hand on my back and pushed me towards Cicero.
I stumbled over my feet some as I regained my balance. Cicero looked down at me, examining me closely. I stared back, unsure of what to say or do. Should I greet him? If so, should I address him as Dad or Cicero? Should I just hug him or shake his hand?
As I stared, lost in my thoughts, Cicero had pulled out my Skyforge steel and was looking it over. I didn't even register that until he began to talk to himself.
"Cicero remembers this," he was murmuring. "Listener and Cicero went to Whiterun for Lucien's first Skyforge steel so that he could learn how to defend himself. When he came home from Jorrvaskr, he showed Cicero how the Jorrvaskr Harbinger helped him engrave what the family always told each other. Kill well and often."
He ran a finger over the engraving before handing it back to me. I hesitantly accepted it before sheathing it. The second it was sheathed, I suddenly couldn't breath or move. I was trapped in Cicero's arms as he hugged me with a death-grip, lifting me off the group. I squirmed some. I had been trapped in both Farkas and Henrik's hugs of death before, but Cicero was much stronger than the Companions (which I found odd since he looked a lot weaker and older) and didn't look like he would release me until Babette reminded Cicero that I needed air.
I gulped air as he began to squeal that he waited longer to find me than he did the Listener, how I looked just like him when he was in his early twenties, that I was much bigger than he thought I'd be and how he never stopped praying to Mother for my return.
By this time, Vicente was joined by my other brother and sister. Garnag looked just like the rest of the us, but my youngest sister had long black hair and deep green eyes that stared at us innocently with facial features that did not reflect Cicero at all. She must look like my mom.
"And who is this?" Cicero asked, eying Parwen.
"This is my wife, Parwen," I told him, finally able to breath. Apparently he didn't completely crush my lungs like I had initially thought.
"Any children?" he asked us hesitantly. I shook my head no, and he laughed in delight. "Thank Sithis! Cicero is not as old as he was beginning to believe. How did you meet?"
"I was a Companion for about two years," I informed him. "She was a bard in the local inn."
Cicero's eyes danced.
"Cicero loves bards!" he exclaimed. He looked down at Karita before pulling her into a hug of death as well, making her squeak in surprise before giggling and hugging back. He kissed her happily, and she returned it as she held onto him tightly.
"I don't think I've seen Dad this happy since...ever," Vicente admitted. I glanced at him. "Especially since Mom left."
"Where is she?" I asked him. He shrugged his shoulders.
"She just disappeared. About three years ago," he told me. "She said that she was going on contract to Solitude, but she never returned. Dad went there and asked everybody he saw, but nobody even saw her enter the city."
Alisanne peered from behind Vicente at me shyly. I smiled and waved at her, making her blush and run to Cicero. She tugged on his pants leg, making him look down. He chuckled and picked her up.
"I have not seen my Keeper this happy in years," the voice I heard on my last trip to Dawnstar spoke softly to me. "Come to me, Lucien."
I glanced at the Night Mother's coffin. She stood still, as the dead should. I looked back at my family and made a silent promise to return that night when everybody slept.
The day passed surprisingly quick. Everybody sat together at the dining table and exchanged stories, catching everybody up. My dad-my real dad-was understandably furious with Ulfric. It took Nazir and I, plus Babette's warning on how it would seriously damage his already bad health, to convince him to not flee to Windhelm on Shadowmere.
When everybody had retired to a bed, I found myself wide awake and sitting in front of the Night Mother's coffin.
"Sweet Lucien. Son of my loyal Keeper and my obedient Listener. My Listener is gone," she spoke gently.
"Where is my mom?" I asked, voice just as soft and quiet.
"A child has prayed to her mother," was she said, completely ignoring my question. "Have my Keeper go to Solitude and speak with Corpulus Vinius. Accept his gold, then eliminate the target. So begins a contract, bound in blood. But first you must tell him the binding words, or he will not believe you. Darkness rises, when silence dies."
"You are no help to me," I scowled at her.
"Is Lucien being driven mad by Mother's silence?"
I glanced up to see my dad staring oddly at me, only a foot away. He must have snuck up on me. I felt my cheeks turn red, unsure as to how to respond.
"Darkness rises when silence dies," I finally spoke, breaking the silence. He looked startled. "You need to go to Solitude. Speak with Corpulus Vinius."
"You heard Mother," he accused softly. I nodded, and he looked away. I heard him sniff. "Mother picked you to be Listener."
"Is it a bad thing?" I asked.
"No," he choked. "It's wonderful Mother spoke to you. Cicero knows that Vicente will take over as Keeper when Cicero passes, but never dreamed that Mother would speak to Lucien and tell him the Binding Words. But Mother only speaks to the Listener...And Cicero is sure that there can only be...one Listener..."
I could see where he was going with this. If Mother was naming me Listener...then did that mean...that Mom was...dead? But I never got to meet her...and if so...how did she die? Where was her body? Was it given a proper burial?
"Cicero will head to Solitude in the morning," he promised me softly.
"I'm sorry," I blurted out. Cicero chuckled softly, ruffling my hair.
"Do not be," he told me. "Mother might have taken Cicero's Listener to the Void, but she gave him his eldest son and daughter back, something poor, humble Cicero has prayed to her nightly for since they were taken. And she picked Lucien as the new Listener, and when Cicero passes, Vicente will be Keeper."
I didn't know what to tell him, so I just nodded as I stood up. Cicero was staring painfully at the Night Mother's coffin. I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him tightly. He returned it just as tightly before releasing me and bidding me a restful sleep. Sparing one last look at the Mother's coffin, I headed back to my bed. Parwen was snuggled deep in the furs on her side of the bed, but she stirred when I slipped in beside her.
"Where were you?" she asked sleepily. I kissed her neck and wrapped my arm around her.
"I'll tell you in the morning," I promised. She accepted this and went back to sleep. I knew that I laid awake for nearly two hours before sleep finally came to me. And my sleep was not restful.
"Dovahkiin!"
I shot up in bed when the words echoed throughout the Sanctuary and shook the earth slightly. Karita shrieked and immediately questioned what that was. Ignoring her, I looked around to see that almost everybody else was already awake, but still startled by the sudden boom.
"That was the Greybeards summoning the Dragonborn," Babette responded to Karita when she repeated her question. She looked at me in curiosity. "Are they summoning you?"
"I'm not Dragonborn," I told her.
"You can perform the Thu'um," she reminded me.
"Yeah, but so can Ulfric, and he's not Dragonborn," I pointed out.
"You're the reason we couldn't have nice things when you were little," Nazir scowled. "You shouted things to pieces." Babette lightly smacked his arm.
"Should I go?" I asked. "To the Greybeards, I mean."
"Well, they must be summoning you," Parwen said. "You or your mother. One simply doesn't just ignore the Greybeard's summons, it's such an honor. She would show up if there was anyway that she could."
I didn't have the heart to tell them about my conversation with my dad. Plus, maybe they could tell me if I really was a Dragonborn. They insisted I was on my first visit, but now I had all the time in the world to talk and figure it out. I had promised myself that I would go back one day and ask them questions. Granted, a huge number of these questions were answered by now, but maybe, just maybe, they could point to where my mother's body was. But I gave a small prayer that she was somehow still alive.
"I guess I should get dressed and take my leave then," I said, pulling myself out of bed.
Promising my wife that I would return, I left the Sanctuary with no doubts that she would be safe there.
Cicero had left early that morning with Shadowmere, so I settled on a carriage ride to Riften. From Riften, I walked to Ivarstead. I accepted a bag of supplies for the Greybeards from Klimmek's new widow. After briefly sharing her grief, I made my way up the mountain. I passed some meditating pilgrims and some hunters happily dragging home a wolf or bear to their families. When I reached what I believe was the 4,000th step, I saw nobody else until I reached High Hrothgar.
I put the supplies in the normal chest before strolling up a few more steps to the door. Not sure if I should knock, I decided to just go ahead and enter. Closing the door gently behind me, I looked around. I noticed two men in grey robes, who immediately noticed me.
"You've returned," one spoke. As I walked up to them, I recognized him as the one who helped me my last trip here. "Are you delivering supplies, or did you finally accept my earlier statement and have come to answer the Greybeards' Dovahkiin summons?"
"Both," I replied with a smile. He chuckled softly.
"While I'm pleased you finally accept your dragon blood, I'm afraid we were trying to summon your mother," he told me.
"But if he is Dovahkiin, will he not still be of use?" the other asked, his voice raspy. He looked a lot younger than the first Greybeard. This one barely looked old enough to even grow a beard.
"Yes, and no," the first told him. "We need his mother not because she is Dragonborn, but because she also has the respect of both Ulfric and General Tullius along with the Greybeards' complete trust."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"I believe we never properly met," the first said, completely ignoring my question. "I am Master Arngeir, and this is Novice Hadring. He's our newest student."
Hadring smiled at me.
"I do not think my mother will be coming," I told him. He looked completely surprised and questioning.
"She's never ignored our summons before," he replied. "She certainly would never ignore them now."
"My brother said she left three years ago and never returned," I explained. "My father said that there is good reason to believe that she has passed."
Master Arngeir looked conflicted, not sure whether to believe me or not.
"We shall wait two months," he decided. "Plenty of time for her to answer our summons. If not…I suppose that we will need you instead. As Dragonborn, you should still gain the respect of both men. And I know that the other Greybeards will find good reason to place their trust in you. In the meantime, you are welcome to stay here. "
"If I am to stay here that long, I need to send a letter home to inform my wife and father," I said. "Or else they'll believe me dead too."
"Wife? You married?" Arngeir asked, an eyebrow raised.
"Congratulations, Dovahkiin," Hadring told me, voice low and still raspy.
"No, no," Arngeir chuckled. "His mother is Dovahkiin. This is Little Dovahkiin."
"Thought you said it wouldn't be fair to call me little anymore," I joked. I stood nearly a head taller than the elder.
"To the Greybeards, you will always be that little boy his mother carried up the 7,000 steps," Arngeir replied with a smile at the memory. "The cutest Dovahkiin any of us had ever seen. I'm afraid we spoiled you in your short time here. Your mother scolded us when she came here a year afterwards, saying that you became sick with all the sweets we fed you."
I laughed, and Hadring let a small chuckle escape him.
"Why do you need my mother?" I asked him. Arngeir's grin fell, and he became serious.
"Our leader, Paarthurnax, believes that this civil war needs to end," he told me. "Do you know the story of your mother's defeat against Alduin?"
"I know the story, but I didn't know it was my mother when I heard it," I admitted. He nodded.
"The basic prophecy goes as this: It is told that civil unrest after the murder of the High King of Skyrim as well as the destruction of Tamriel. It tells us that Alduin would return with souls in the forms of fierce dragons, and that only a Dovahkiin could defeat him with the power of the Thu'um. Prophecy says that the Dovahkiin will destroy him in a final battle, restoring peace to Skyrim and Tamriel. Alduin is destroyed, but peace is not here," Arngeir summarized. "I had thought peace had come, but Paarthurnax has gained knowledge that the war is at its fiercest. He asked us to summon the Dragonborn so that he could tell her how to bring peace to Skyrim."
"How would we bring peace?" I wondered. I had seen the soldiers from both the Imperial Legion and Stormcloaks marching past or through Whiterun during my years as a Companion. Vilkas had said that there had been war since he was about my age.
"He didn't say," the Greybeard replied. "But when your mother comes, we will soon know."
"If she comes."
"When," he corrected me. "Now, since you are here, I believe I have a promise to you I should fulfill."
"Which is…?"I asked slowly, never remembering him promise me anything.
"Well, not to you. To your mother. I promised that when you returned, that I would accept you as a student," he told me. He motioned to the doors behind him that lead to the courtyard. "Would you like for me to teach you the rest of Unrelenting Force? And perhaps a few other shouts, Little Dovahkiin?"
In two months, the Master Greybeards taught me everything that it took them all their lives to learn. Novice Hadring was taught alongside me, although he struggled to grasp and learn that I was mastering in minutes. I felt awful for immediately knowing and absorbing the knowledge, watching him stare dumbfounded at the dragon language scratched into the stones and try to shout with nothing but normal shrieks escaping him. It didn't seem to bring him down.
"It's an honor to learn alongside the Dovahkiin," he had told me in his raspy voice with a forgiving smile. I later learned that it was normal for normal humans to have raspy, hoarse voices and pained throats for a bit after beginning their journey to learn the Way of the Voice.
I had traveled down to Ivarstead regularly to send a courier to my wife, telling her what was happening, that I missed her and the others. In return, I got letters in return, normally a bundle with a message from Amaya, my dad, Parwen, Babette and on occasion Nazir and Vicente.
At the end of the two months, Arngeir looked at me sadly before teaching me Clear Skies so that I could go to the Throat of the World and talk to Paarthurnax.
My mother never came.