Chapter 4:
"EGGS!"
The words rang out loud and sharp through the stone room. Kian was almost tempted to cover his ears at the pure pitch of the outburst, but resisted. It wouldn't do to appear out of control in this situation, lest anyone they relied on for leadership begin to lose faith.
"Aye, Jarl. I know it sounds… absurd, but it's true. I saw the nest for myself. Felt the egg shells in my hands."
"What proof do you have of this?" Balgruuf fell back into his seat with a heavy thump, gesturing towards the dragon born with a tired hand.
Kian reached into his bag, which sat now on the ground by his feet. He took no more than a moment to look over Scarn, who was asleep in his little nest of cloth. It seemed as if he barely moved from that morning. With a silent prayer of thanks, the adventurer scooped his evidence out from beside the young dragon. The egg shells fell with a dull sound onto the table top before the Jarl. Reaching forward uncertainly, Whiterun's leader felt the curved shards under his hands. The outsides were black and rough, with a texture that gave the appearance of scales running over the bumps and ridges on the uneven surfaces. The insides were a pure white, almost blinding in its contrast from the outside. The Jarl ran a finger along the inside, scooping up a thin membrane from along the surface. He rubbed the substance between his thumb and forefinger, a disparaging look adorning his face.
"That is certainly egg yolk…" his voice was little above a strained whisper with barely enough strength to reach the dragonborn's ears.
"Are you sure these belong to a dragon? There's never been anything in any records of the dragon legends that mentioned eggs, or that they could even have offspring."
"I am certain beyond a shadow of a doubt. There were dragon hatchlings in these eggs."
"Yes, but how do you know? There's any chance it could be another sort of large creature; some large bird or lizard or something. It would certainly make more sense than dragons."
Kian's eyes fell to his bag of their own accord. It would be so easy, just pull out the dragon from his bag, explain the whole thing, there would be no way the Jarl could doubt him with a living, breathing dragon in his war room. But then… he shouldn't care about this dragon anyway, both he and Skyrim would be better off with it dead. But…
Kian settled a hand on the wooden strategy table, looking at a map of Skyrim, stretching to each border and the sea.
"I found the nest here," he pointed to the mountain range near Skyrim's western border. "From a village so small it doesn't even have a proper name. It was inside an old Nordic tomb, even older than Bleak Falls Barrow, though not as grand. In the deepest chamber, probably made to house an important leader's remains, I saw a room stripped bare of any decorations filled to the edges with a mashed collection of straw, moss, and leaves. The walls were covered with blackened scorch marks, claw marks that were deeply cut into the stone, and the print of a clawed foot I knew too well. It was a dragon; I swear it on my duty as a dragonborn."
Jarl Balgruuf had been perched on the edge of his seat, at relaxed heavily back into it, with a variety of harsh curses spat from his lips. His hands came up to cover his face, and the Jarl sat hunched over himself for a few moments, before straightening up with a look of reserved calm on his face.
"What is our plan, then, to move forward with this new information."
Kian couldn't help but smile. Some people were made for the leadership role.
"Our biggest disadvantage right now is ignorance. We need to consider how the dragons are reproducing before we can decide what angle to go at this from. But-"
"But you already have an idea for what we can do to combat the problem in small ways for now."
Kian looked rather stunned for a moment, and his face must have been comical, for Balgruuf tossed his head back in laughter.
"I know you well, Kian. We have worked together for some time now."
Kian smirked in agreement.
"I think we should make parties to search more possible areas that dragons could be roosting in. Places like the ones I found; old tombs, caves, abandoned mines, anywhere large enough to house a dragon could be a nest."
"Our forces are stretched rather thin already with the rebellion as of late, Kian."
"We don't have to spare many, at least not while we're still in the dark. Just a small group of those willing and trust worthy."
"Trust worthy?"
"We'll need people we can trust to keep this a secret. The last thing we need are rumors and panic spreading while we still don't have a clear plan."
"Well, who would you suggest then?" the Jarl asked with clear skepticism.
"Don't worry, I know someone who'd be more than willing to take up the task."
"Very well. I guess I can leave this with you for now."
"Definitely, Jarl."
The man let out a tired sigh.
"Thank the divines. Though I doubt I will be at peace for a while with this new information, the rebellion demands my attention at this moment. I will be glad to hand the reins of this off to you."
"You can always count on me Balgruuf."
"I'm aware." The older man said with a smile.
After exchanging farewells, Kian took off downstairs to track down the Jarl's wizard. As usual, Farengar could be found bent over his work table studying from the many books stacked in high piles across it.
"Morning, Farengar." Kian greeted with breath heavy from his running.
It took a moment for the dovakiin's greeting to pierce through the veil that seemed to surround the wizard's awareness when he was amid his work.
"Hm? Oh, Kian. Yes, good morning."
The magician turned back to his books, seemingly under the impression that the conversation was over.
Kian stood for a few moments with clear annoyance on his face, before clearing his throat harshly.
"Hm? Oh, did you need something?" At last the wizard closed his book and placed it to the side, a sign he was ready to give Kian his full attention.
"Yes, I need to consider a matter regarding the dragons. Do you still have the notes you've taken?"
"Do I have the notes? I'm still adding to them!" With an added spring to his steps, the court sorcerer almost flew across the room in his eagerness to gather up his research.
Farengar seemed to have an almost feverish fascination with the dragons. As soon as news reached of their return, the man had set out scraping together as much as he could find on them, and now continued to look further into obscure works for hints on their hidden nature, which he would gather and compile into a stack of theories as to the beast's inner workings.
The stack of parchment hit the table with enough force to shake the thing, standing before Kian as a dense brick of words and diagrams. In his time, the dragonborn had faced down intimidating creatures of all kinds, but faced with this intense collection of info he would have to sift through, he felt genuinely intimidated.
"How did you find all of this?"
"Well our records strictly about the time of the dragons are incredibly minimal, so most of this is speculation I sparced out of lymrics and songs from the era."
"That's… incredibly impressive Farengar." Kian said with genuine surprise.
"It's a simple process in the realm of research." He started segmenting out the pages into groups that Kian could not make sense of. "Is there anything in particular you are looking for? It will likely be easier if I helped you navigate." The wizard spoke with an air of bragging that Kian was very used to at this point.
"Do you have anything on who the dragons were themselves?"
The wizard scoffed and rolled his eyes.
"Well of course, that's one of the only things well documented and consistent through every source. The Nords were not willing to forget the names of their former overlords and enemies so easily."
Farengar delicately plucked a thin parchment from the center of the stack, somehow avoiding misplacing a single other sheet from their order, and handed it to Kian. Turning to lean against the aged wood desk, the dovakiin skimmed across the names scrawled in fancy and deliberate writing.
At least he made it legible. The dragonborn moaned internally; parsing words from the scribbled mess of some people's handwriting could be an insurmountable task in and of itself.
Alduin, Durnehviir, Paarthurnax, Sahloknir…
"Farengar, this only states their names."
"Yes, that is what you asked for."
"Well I was looking for more specific information about the dragons…"
"Oh! Why did you not say so?" The wizard spoke as he flipped quickly through more pages on the desk. "There's plenty written on Alduin, and Paarthurnax as well, major players in the Dragon War, some other stuff about their habitats- "
"Anything that mentions their gender?"
"Ah…" The Jarl's sorcerer cast a confused glance at his work, then up to Kian. "How do you mean?"
Kian dropped his gaze for a moment, feeling conflicted. He had hoped to swipe the information he needed without alerting anyone else to the new situation, but if there was any possibility Farengar had what he needed, perhaps the risk was worth taking.
"I need to know if any of the dragons were female."
The crease between Farengar's brow deepened and he slowly turned a few pages idly beneath his fingers.
"I don't believe so, Kian. None of the records or songs had ever been specific; and whenever a named dragon was mentioned, it was always addressed as a 'he.' Dragons likely didn't even reproduce normally, or at all. From what can be found, they seem to be immortal creatures, and have no need to maintain population numbers."
A pit settled in Kian's gut. Then what's in my pack?
Now the warrior faced exactly what he was afraid of; Farengar's curiosity.
"Why, exactly, would it be important to know of the dragon's genders?" He asked in a low whisper, desire laden like honey on his tongue.
"I don't think it's exactly any of your business, wizard." Kian fired back in a low grumble.
"I plead you, Kian!" Farengar's tone changed to whinny desperation. "This is my life's most important work here! I feel a drive to complete and know all about this returned enemy of ours; if you know anything at all, I beseech you to tell me!"
"Farengar, this is dangerous information. I'm afraid if anyone hears of this, word will spread faster than can be contained, and combined with the height of current tempers such panic could thrust Skyrim into destructive chaos. I can't trust anyone else to not let this out."
Farengar rose from his chair with sudden speed to confront the dragonborn on equal ground.
"I have been one of the Jarl's trusted advisors for years of his rein; if I cannot be trusted with sensitive information then I doubt there could be found anyone capable!"
Kian's gaze kept its steal.
"As well," Farengar added now with a slyer tone to his voice. "The value of such information could be enough to pay for my silence. And rumors made from falsities can be far more destructive than the truth."
Damn, I've been backed into a corner…
The dragonborn winced internally at his lack of preparation. It was always easy to forget how men of wisdom often had the slick tongues of snakes. Though Farengar did perhaps have a point. If anyone was aware of the true danger of dragons, it would be the man who worked tirelessly in pursuing study of them. One more was less likely to hurt.
"Alright; but we have to go somewhere with more privacy. And what we talk about does not leave the keep."
"Of course, dovakiin." The wizard bowed towards him and gestured off to an adjoining chamber, one of the many sitting rooms cut into the stone of Dragonsreach.
Once inside, Kian gently settled his bag onto the small table taking up most of the interior while Farengar checked for eavesdroppers and closed the door, slipping the bolt into place with an audible clang.
Reaching back into his sack, Kian pulled the broken egg shell out once again.
"Alright, so this- "the words had barely left his mouth before his hands were suddenly empty, and Farengar was bent over the table staring intently at the shards.
"An egg?!" he cried with disbelief.
"Not so loud, man! Or do you wish to break your promise before you even have a chance to keep it?" Kian barked indignantly.
"This cannot be. It's just not possible…" the wizard muttered intently to himself as he ran his hands across the scale like grooves covering the shell's exterior.
"Well it is true. Make no mistake, I saw a complete one with my own eyes. The nest too. These are dragon eggs."
"But this… this could alter everything. All of my research, all of everyone's research!"
"It also changes the game." Kian interjected, leaning over the table to see the egg parts again. "If the dragons are trying to strengthen their numbers, they could overwhelm us once again."
"Yes, indeed." Farengar's gaze turned downward, a look of contemplation taking over his face. "What's the Jarl's plan, then?"
"Nothing yet. This is my task as of now. I have some ideas, but I need to figure out exactly how the dragons are reproducing. I was hoping you had something on the subject, but I guess now I'll have to make the journey to High Hrothgar and speak to the greybeards."
"Hm, yes. They would likely be your best option. Do you plan to leave immediately?"
"As soon as I leave Whiterun." Kian nodded in agreement.
"Very well then." Farengar handed the shell back to the adventurer, who put it into his pack and slung it back over his shoulders. "I wish you luck, dragonborn."
With a nod in Farengar's direction, Kian left the wizard and walked back into the main hall, only to find the Jarl waiting for him.
"I was hoping to catch you before you left." Balgruuf greated with his usual confident smile on his face.
"Any particular reason?" Kian questioned.
"Not at all. But is has been sometime since we've had time to talk of more casual matters, and I hoped to exchange some words before you vanished again."
Kian chuckled in response, and met the Jarl's stride as they meandered to the entry way.
"I suppose that is my fault. I have been making camps in the wild more often than I have lain in my own bed."
"I am not truly surprised, Kian. You've always had an air of restlessness around you; suppose that's what got you into Skyrim in the first place."
"Though not under good terms…" Kian grumbled.
"For certain." The Jarl jibbed as he slapped a hand across his Thane's back. Kian cringed at the impact.
"Still haven't lost that iron muscle."
"What kind of Jarl would I be if I had?" they both erupted into laughter as they reached the large wooden doors. The mood began to turn somber again.
"So, where are you headed now?" the Jarl asked.
"Well Farengar was a bust, so I my next step is to seek council from the grey-beards."
The blond Nord hummed in agreement.
"Are you leaving immediately?"
"Yes, I'll be off again. As much as I love Whiterun, it will be some relief to be amongst open sky." And maybe get this dragon out of my pack at last, he added silently. Scarn must be feeling suffocated by now.
"Here and off again, as expected." The Jarl shook his head. "Someday I fear you may leave and not come back." His expression held signs of honest worry, and Kian felt a twinge of guilt in his gut.
"I've been fine every other time, and I will be again. It's only High Hrothgar, I've been there enough." With a shove, Kian began to lever the doors open. "Besides, I doubt anyone could be more skilled than I am in keeping myself safe."
The bright disk of sunlight that was supposed to enter the hall once the door opened was blocked by a silhouette Kian almost ran into. Kian and Balgruuf jerked back in surprise of a moment at the sight of the armored woman standing before them at the entrance.
"L-Lydia?" Kian questioned, shocked.
"I'm coming with you." She asserted.
Oh, shite.