Hiccup and Stoick didn't return right to Whiterun. Instead, they detoured to Helgen…or what remained of Helgen.
They could see it as they crested the mountain pass. A giant crater that sundered the earth. Some bits of stone walls and farm land were the only indication that there had been a town there at all.
The very sight filled Hiccup with dread.
As they drew closer, Imperial Soldiers and Whiterun Guards alike were blocking the road.
"Hail and well met, My Lord," a guard called. "We can't guarantee your safety here. The dragon seems to have disappeared for now, but the ground around the hole keeps collapsing."
"Thank you, soldier. Are the guards that witnessed the event nearby?"
"No, My Lord. The Captain has given them leave for two weeks. It seems the event was quite horrific. There was one other witness though. Name's Ingrad Sorenson. He's over there."
Both looked to the field where the guard was pointing. A lone farmer tended his crops, like it was any other day.
"Though, if you plan on talking to him, I'm not sure how much information he'll give you. He's been rather quiet."
"Thank you, as you were."
Hiccup followed his father as he left the cart to go question the man. He glanced around, only seeing the vast crop fields, a tent, a fire pit, and a cow.
"Hail! A word Mr. Sorenson?" Stoick called out to the farmer.
He didn't respond.
"Must be hard of hearing," Stoick said, good-naturedly.
When they were much closer, he tried again. "How are the crops, man?"
"They grow," the farmer responded, his voice heavy with sorrow. "This ground has life. As long as it does, I too, will live."
Stoick stopped his approach, only a few feet away, giving the man his space. "This is your field, then?"
"Yes. But I tend the Sanderson's and the Alderson's as well. Can't let their hard work be in vain. They live on in their cabbage and pumpkins."
Hiccup shared a worried look with his father.
"The cow? That's Hjogar's. He was so proud of her. Best milking cow in Helgen, he said. Even in his old age, he still wouldn't sell her to anyone. Even though he could barely milk her…" At that, he started sobbing, and dropped his rake.
Stoick approached carefully, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Ingrad? Do you know who I am?"
"I don't know anyone anymore. Everyone I know and love—" he sniffled. "The Forsworn were spotted taking crops from the western fields. I told them—my family, my wife, my sons, that it was dangerous for them to help me with the farming. I begged them to stay in Helgen, where it was safe…" at that, he dissolved into more sobbing. Horrible, gut-wrenching sobs.
"What did it look like?" Hiccup asked.
"Hiccup—" Stoick chastised.
"White," said Ingrad. "A white demon! It's head—it was all teeth! Horrible long teeth, twice the size of a man! And it's eyes! Blood red—no pupil, like it was blinded by its hunger for blood! It was so long, so thin, like it hadn't eaten in centuries! A long tail…I'll never get that sound out of my head! When it dove back in, the tail cracked like a whip! It was so loud, it sounded like thunder!" He trembled. "It happened so fast. The ground rumbled, and then it emerged, eating half of the town in one bite. It roared…I bet they heard it in Riften. It made my eyes bleed! The sound itself made everyone stand still and scream! Then it came back down…and I was alone."
"The Bannered Mare has a few rooms available. Come with us to Whiterun. We'll get you set up for a few weeks, and help you start a new life."
Ingrad shook his head. "I can't leave. They need me."
"Who?"
Ingrad gestured to the crops. "They're my family now. My wife and son planted them. They tended, weeded, and watered them. No, I'm staying until harvest. And then, if Sovngarde doesn't claim me, I might come to Whiterun."
Hiccup had a horrible feeling that he'd never see this man in Whiterun.
"Are you sure? It's not safe out here in that tent. What about bears? Or saber cats?"
"I have a sword, and I know how to use it."
Stoick looked like he wanted to argue, but ultimately sighed and became resigned. "Alright. Far be it from me to try to change the mind of a stubborn Nord. But, you must promise me something, Ingrad."
"Yes?"
"You see any inclination of that Dragon again, you send word to the Jarl of Whiterun. Fair?"
The man shut his eyes tight, but nodded in the end. "Yes, fair."
"Good. We'll leave you to do your gardening. I'm hoping for a bountiful harvest." He patted his son on the back. "Come along, Hiccup."
Hiccup hurried after his father as he made purposeful strides to the main road. He stopped a guard. "You keep an eye on that farmer. Make sure he doesn't off himself."
"Sir!"
As they returned to the cart, Hiccup asked, "aren't we going to get a closer look?"
"Not today. We'll have to come back later, when the ground has settled."
Hiccup wanted to protest, but opted not to. Hopefully the information from the farmer would be enough for Toothless. If not, he'd sneak back at a later date.
They rode back to Whiterun, the guards announcing their arrival once they were at the gates.
Inside, all manner of townsfolk crowded around them, seeking answers and demanding justice.
"What are we going to do if the dragon comes for us?"
"Is anyone going to hunt down the beast?"
"Has the Ancient Nord prophecy come true?"
"Is this the work of Drago?"
"Are we next?"
"Enough!" Stoick bellowed to the crowd. "I know you're afraid. Who wouldn't be? But at this time, I do not have the answers you seek. Panicking will serve no purpose. We're Nords! Hardy folk that fear no beast, and that includes dragons!"
Some of the crowd took to Stoick's words quickly, and became encouraged. Others were a bit more rational.
"I will send word to the other Jarls and to the academics at the College of Winterhold. I will not sit idle. We will find out why this dragon has returned, and what it means. For now, it is wise to lend a hand to your fellow man. If any survivors of Helgen arrive here, give them food and lodging. And if anyone learns of anything, please come see me at Dragonsreach." He nodded and pressed through the crowd toward his keep.
Jarl Stoick's word was final, but many people lingered, nervous and uncertain.
Hiccup saw this plainly. His destiny was already in motion. These people, friends and family, were being affected. Now, not in the distant future, now. Forever, until the dragon was slain, they'd be afraid for their lives.
But a dragon the size of Dragonsreach wasn't going to fall with a well placed fus ro da. He'd have to develop a plan.
He needed a nap. Mostly to consult with Toothless, but also because traveling was exhausting.
"Welcome back, Lad!" Gobber greeted heartily.
"Hi Gobber."
"Enjoy your vacation?"
"As much as one can enjoy four days of bumpy cart travel."
"Did you meet the High King? What's he like?"
"Oh, we had dinner with him. He seems nice. He laughed at a dirty joke I made, so I guess the power hasn't gone to his head yet. His wife seems sweet as well. I spent a lot of time with his daughter, Marinette."
"Daughter eh? Is she cute?"
"She's too young for me. Poor kid was so overwhelmed. And then Helgen…" he shook his head. "She needed a friend, so I was there for her. She's actually quite smart for her age. A good asset for a Princess."
"Oh right, if she's not like Adrianne, forget it."
"You should say that a little louder, Gobber. I don't think the whole town heard you."
"Aw lad, don't be ashamed of having a crush on an older woman!"
"I'm not ashamed. Everyone has a crush on Adrianne…including her husband. You know, Ulfberth War-Bear? The huge Nord that carries a warhammer on his back?"
Gobber laughed. "Oh, he's just a big teddy-bear. He won't make fun of you."
"I'm not worried about him making fun of me! I'm worried about him ripping out my spine and using it as a toothpick."
Gobber just kept on laughing. "That's why it's so nice to keep you around, lad. You're always good for a laugh."
"Look Gobber, I see what you're doing, and I appreciate it, but I don't need a cheer up. I need to focus on what happened to Helgen."
Gobber became much more solemn at that. "Hiccup, there's not much you can do for Helgen, you know? That dragon will do what it does." He chuckled, "actually, if ever there was a time for a Dragonborn to return, this would be it. Let him handle it!"
I'm trying to! Hiccup internally screamed.
As he and his father returned to Dragonsreach, the Steward, Spitelout, hurried to greet them. "My Lord, I'm so happy you've returned—"
"Yes, I've heard all about Helgen, and I'm eager to hear if Gothi has any information."
"She's been hard at work, of course. But there's a visitor—"
"Excellent. Where from? The college?"
"A visitor for the Young Master," he looked at Hiccup.
Hiccup blinked in surprise. "Who? Me?"
"A visitor for Hiccup?" Stoick asked, bewildered.
"Yes. He came a few days ago, not long after you left for Solitude. He said he had to talk to, 'the small freckled boy with the crown.' I told him you were gone and would be gone for a while, and he said he would just wait."
"Did you have any guards attempt to escort him to the Bannered Mare to wait there?" Stoick probed.
"Yes! They tried to persuade him to leave and come back later, but he declined. When they attempted to physically remove him, they couldn't lift him. Apparently, he's a lot heavier than he looks."
"Well, if he's that insistent, we'll give him an audience. And then he'd better go. I have more important things to worry about. Where is he?"
"He's in the War Room, looking at the map, last I saw."
Stoick patted Hiccup again, steering him towards the stairs. "Come on, son."
Gobber, who had followed Hiccup into Dragonsreach, also silently followed, curious.
A staircase leading to the upper floor of the Grand Hall was behind the Jarl's throne. Up here, a door to the royal family's quarters was accessed, as well as the door to the Great Porch.
This room had large bookshelves that held the keep's library, as well as a large oak table for studying. A large map of Skyrim was spread across the surface, and a figure stood, studying it.
"The Jarl Stoick, and his Son Hiccup," Spitelout introduced.
The man, shorter than most, turned to greet them. His skin was a muted, pale blue, with golden tattoos on his cheeks. He wore a nearly full set of armor made out of a brass material, which was only missing the helmet. It was intricately articulated and had expertly measured rivets across the breast plate. Over the armor, he wore a white and red robe.
Hiccup was used to beards being braided, as most Nords tended to do so, but this man's beard was made up of very small braids, capped with gold. One slightly thicker and much longer braid hung from his chin.
The man had a wide, smug smile full of perfectly square teeth, and eyes that were so narrow they were almost closed as he smiled.
"Dwarven armor," Gobber commented, impressed. "And in mint condition too. You don't find 'em so nice these days."
After a few seconds of awkward eye contact, Hiccup blurted, "uh, hello?"
"I must thank you for your hospitality, Jarl Stoick." The man returned.
It seemed that Stoick wasn't in the mood for diplomacy, and instead asked, "who are you, and what business do you have with my son?"
The man just continued to smile, like this whole interaction highly amused him. "I have come to discuss the crown he wears. It is a creation of my people."
Understanding dawned on Hiccup. After all, Toothless had told him this would happen. He would get visited by one of the Psijic monks. That had to be who this man was. He just hoped he wouldn't reveal the truth to his father. Stoick would not take being lied to well. Perhaps Hiccup could just play dumb?
"Your people? Who are your people? Surely you aren't trying to convince me that you're a Dunmer."
"Say…" Gobber spoke up, his eyes wide with delight. "You're a Dwarf!"
Stoick gave him an incredulous look. "A dwarf? Are you daft?! The dwarves have been extinct for thousands of years."
"Almost extinct," the mysterious man chuckled. "All but a handful."
Stoick and Spitelout stared in shock and awe.
Hiccup just nodded in interest, but it was quickly becoming difficult to surprise him anymore.
When it looked like mostly everyone was star-struck, the man continued. "In the First Era, my colleagues and I decided to study the arcane in a sequestered area. The other Dwemer weren't particularly religious or fond of the gods, you see."
"What does this have to do with my son's crown?" Stoick asked, impatient.
The dwarf only laughed. "Oh good, you've moved past the revelation of my existence. Well—"
"I haven't!" Gobber protested. "What happened to the other dwarves? Please, this mystery has been eating me alive my whole life! There's not a man or mer on Tamriel that hasn't been dying to know! You've got to tell!"
The dwarf merely shrugged. "I have no idea. We keep an eye on the world from where we are, but the deep underground cities of the Dwemer were out of sight from us. By the time we realized they had disappeared, a hundred years had passed."
"So…you didn't really get along with your family, did you?" Hiccup asked, mostly as a joke.
Stoick gave him a tiny thump on the head.
"Yes, we've all been curious about the Dwarves. But please, tell us about this cursed crown!"
The dwarf grinned and looked at Hiccup, seemingly staring into his very soul. "What is a curse to some, is a blessing to others. The crown sleeps, but can be awakened."
"Can you remove it?"
"Not without killing the boy, no."
Stoick frowned. "I heard that the Dwarves were sadistic, what with what they did to the Snow Elves, but to curse an item and not have a way to remove it?"
The dwarf didn't seem bothered by Stoick's jab, and just tilted his head ever so slightly. "We prefer the term 'enchanted' over 'cursed'."
Stoick scoffed.
"What has your interaction with the crown been so far, Young Master?"
"It um…it won't come off."
"That would seem like a curse, of course. But there is much more to it, if we may speak alone?"
Stoick's nostrils flared. "You must be out of your mind if you think I'll leave you alone with my son after what you've done!"
"Dad dad dad," Hiccup grabbed his arm. "It's cool. He came all this way to talk to me about this. If I'm going to be stuck with it the rest of my life, I should know all I can about it."
Stoick hated that Hiccup had such a good point. "Fine. Use my office. But the guards will be outside, and if there's any trouble—"
"There won't be, your lordship," the dwarf assured with a smile. "The Young Master is destined for greatness. I wouldn't dream of ruining that."
Stoick could only look in confusion as Hiccup led the dwarf to the private quarters and to Stoick's office.
"I'm sorry about that. He's…pretty protective of me."
"We could all be so lucky. My father disappeared some 2000 years ago!" He laughed. "I am Master Wang Fu."
"Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, son of Jarl Stoick of Whiterun. But Hiccup is fine."
"You know, you're not an easy man to find."
Hiccup winced as he took a seat in a chair in front of his father's desk. "I'm not usually this mobile. I'm sorry."
Master Fu continued to study the room, perusing the shelves and occasionally picking up an item like an ornamental dagger or book. "When we sensed the awakening of the Miraculous, we scried on your location and saw you were in a burial mound. I figured by the time I made it to Skyrim, you'd be home. When I crossed over from Cyrodiil, I located you here in Whiterun. But by the time I actually got here, you were in Morthal!"
"Yeah…how-how familiar are you with current events?"
"If you are asking if I heard about the High King, I did. We have ways of listening in on the events happening in the material world. But that, of course, is not why I'm here."
"The crown?"
"I assume you actually are aware of its true nature?"
"I named him Toothless. I didn't mean to! He told me to name him and I just commented that he didn't have any teeth, and he took it literally and wouldn't let me change it!" He slapped his hand to his forehead, knocking the crown. "I can't get over it. Akatosh! The dragon god! I named him Toothless!"
Master Fu just started laughing, a genuine belly laugh. "I came to judge what kind of character you were, but I think I have a good idea now. The dragon god is very kind, loving, and protective of mankind. He is mighty and fiersome, but the name you have chosen for him is quite fitting, I think."
Hiccup shook his head and slouched in his seat. "And here, I was concerned about one day inheriting my father's throne. But now…"
"I assume you are Dragonborn, as well?"
"I have shouted already, so I guess so."
"It is as the prophecy said then."
"Wait," Hiccup shot forward. "Prophecy? There's a prophecy now?! Since when?! Toothless never mentioned a prophecy!"
Master Fu laughed again. "Since the time of Tiber Septim. After our people disappeared. It goes as such:
'When misrule takes its place at the eight corners of the world,
When the Brass Tower walks and Time is reshaped,
When the thrice-blessed fail and the Red Tower trembles,
When the Dragonborn Ruler loses his throne, and the White Tower falls,
When the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding,
The World-Eater wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn.'"
Hiccup frowned. "I don't get it."
Master Fu gave an admonishing look. "Not a student of history?"
Hiccup groaned. "There's a lot to it."
"Then I suggest you review your books. Each line equates with a significant historical catastrophe. Though, I will save you time and say that they all happened in the Third Era. All but the last line."
"Something about a Snow Tower?"
"'When the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding, The World-Eater wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn.'"
"The Snow Tower…The Snow Tower…oh gods. It's not talking about the Throat of the World, is it?" Hiccup gestured towards the Eastern window, where the very mountain he was talking about could be seen.
Master Fu nodded.
"But they put a king on the throne! Surely it can't be…"
"Yes, they elected a new High King. But Skyrim is still divided and on the brink of a civil war. Do you see it now, Dragonborn?"
Hiccup slouched in his chair, dread coiling in his stomach. "What's The World-Eater? What does that represent?"
"That question is more well suited for your soulmate," Master Fu smiled.
"Why me? Why am I this Dragonborn person?"
"I believe the Greybeards may have an answer for that."
Hiccup groaned and rested his head in his hands.
"What is the matter?"
"You're not answering my questions! I finally have someone that knows stuff and you won't explain anything!"
"My apologies. I will answer your next question honestly."
"How do I kill the dragon that attacked Helgen?"
"I don't have the slightest clue."
Hiccup threw his hands up in frustration.
"I said I would be honest. I didn't say it would be helpful."
Angry and frustrated, Hiccup just snapped. "Look, why did you come here? Just to 'see what kind of person I am'? What is a Psijic Monk anyway? Toothless said you were some sort of guardian or something."
"Correct on all accounts," Master Fu grinned. "I am here to judge your character."
"Why?"
"Well, if you created a powerful artifact, wouldn't you want to know how it was being used?"
Hiccup considered all the swords and knives he had made while working for Gobber. How many were used for defense? And how many fell into the wrong hands?
"I guess that makes sense. So…your people made these?"
"As I told your father earlier, my colleagues and I broke away from the other Dwemer to work in seclusion. Whereas our kin were interested in science and tonal energies, we were interested in the arcane and the gods. Everyone wanted the ability to soul trap a god, for the sheer power that those soul gems would contain. Our attempts to do so resulted in the Miraculous. Not a full soul trap, but some would argue this was a better outcome."
"That's pretty…horrific, honestly."
"I know. And we'd soon learn that the Miraculous themselves cared little about what our intentions were, and disappeared on their own. We have no control over them, but we can tell when someone has activated one. We've taken to reaching out to the new wielder, just to see what they are like."
"So you're not really a guardian at all, huh?"
Master Fu laughed, though it lacked mirth. "No, I suppose not. Though that was the intention. Now we just observe how they affect the world."
"…and step in when needed, right?"
Master Fu shook his head. "We have taken an oath not to interfere with the events that unfold."
Hiccup frowned. "Why not?"
"Fear, mostly. We stay on our island to stay removed from consequences. Every action that you take has consequences. Even talking to you about all of this is a risk. But we have elected to let actions play out as they do. Besides, is it fair if we can escape before our consequences catch up to us?"
"I guess that's fair. How many Miraculous are there, anyway?"
"24 in total."
"I thought for sure you were going to say 8, one for each of the Divines, minus Talos."
"One for each of the Divines, yes, and one for each of the 15 Daedric princes."
"…even the really bad ones?"
"What do you mean?"
"For instance, Mehrunes Dagon, the prince of Destruction, Disaster, and Violent Upheaval. Someone can connect to that power?"
"Ah, the Black Cat. A misunderstood deity. Most would agree, he is evil. But like a forest fire purging the rotting undergrowth, sometimes destruction is necessary."
"Yeah, sure, but wasn't he the one that opened all the hell-mouths during the Oblivion Crisis and tried to take over the world?"
"I said 'sometimes'."
"Okay fine, but what about Molag Bal? The Corruptor? The Rapist? He's responsible for only grief in this world, like vampires and other undead."
"They all have a Miraculous, Hiccup. While a connection between souls can give a mortal power, it also weakens the deity. There is balance."
Hiccup took out his little notebook that he often carried with him, and began to take down notes from this conversation. "Every Miraculous has a creature associated with it? I had never heard of Mehrunes Dagon referred to as a cat. I thought he was a four armed red devil."
"The Ancient Nords, those that taught us about the gods in the first place, assigned a creature to each one. The names differ between cultures. Toothless, for example, is the Dragon, named by the Nords. The Imperials call him Akatosh while the Elves call him Auri-El. While the names change depending on who you are talking to, we found it easier to stick with their Ancient Nord name."
Hiccup wrote down the Eight Divines, as he knew them well. "Oh, 8 Divines, plus 15 Daedric Princes, that only makes 23 Miraculous, right?"
"There is one more. The dead god, the creator, has a Miraculous. She is the Ladybug."
"Dead god? I didn't know there was such a thing. But if she's dead…doesn't that make her Miraculous not work?"
Master Fu grinned. "That is a good line of thinking, Dragonborn. However, since we tied her to a Miraculous, that is the only thing that has kept her from disappearing. Although, it is not any less powerful."
"Good to know…" Hiccup noted this down as well. "Do you know how many Miraculous are active right now?"
"Besides yours, there are two."
Hiccup looked surprised. "Really? Wait, I bet Drago has one!"
"No. The Jarl of Windhelm does not possess a Miraculous."
Hiccup frowned. "Well, then who?"
"The Ladybug activated while I was waiting for you. I have yet to meet the wielder."
"Oh wow, busy week for you, huh?"
Master Fu chuckled. "It's an exciting time. But we knew it would be when the Prophecy came true."
"Does the Ladybug grant any special abilities? Toothless–Ah, Akatosh, has been giving me training in my Thu'um."
"The Ladybug grants great magical proficiency. You have seen that most wizards are unable to cast spells without a staff or other spell focus."
"I hadn't really thought about it, but sure."
"The earrings substitute as this focus, and allow for very potent spellcasting. Have you heard of Potema?"
Hiccup shivered, "Yeah, she's a legend. The Queen of Solitude that won a war with an army of undead."
"She was The Ladybug's last wielder."
Hiccup sat stunned, not sure how to respond to that. "Oh."
"I have high hopes for this new wielder, though. A young lady, you may run into her in the future."
"What's her name?"
"As I said, I haven't met her yet."
"Oh right," he cringed. "You said there was another one active?"
Master Fu looked much more grave at that. "Yes, The Butterfly."
"I don't recognize it, so I'm assuming it's a Daedric Prince?" He winced.
"That is correct. The Butterfly is also known as Molag Bal, the one of the princes you were concerned with earlier."
Hiccup swore and rested his head in his hands. "And the wielder?"
"An Altmer woman. Wholly unpleasant. She didn't give me her name. Though, she has been wearing it for a few decades. Who knows what she's up to."
Hiccup noted down that he needed to read up more on Molag Bal, and be prepared for what could come of that.
But first, the white dragon from Helgen.
"Do you have any more questions for me? I expect that once I depart from here, we will never meet again."
"No, don't say that! I can't think of them right now, but I know I will as soon as you leave!"
"Fear not, Dragonborn. There is little information that I have that Aka–Toothless and the Graybeards do not also have. It is better that way. Giving you the history of the world in one day, you're likely to forget most of it."
"Which is why I started taking notes," he raised his notebook.
"And you should continue to do so." Master Fu gave him a proud smile, and rested a hand on his shoulder. "While I can not tell you what to do, I know what I would do if I were in your shoes."
"Please, any guidance…"
"Go consult the Graybeards. They will train you with the Thu'um. Once you begin to establish yourself as Dragonborn, the Blades are likely to find you. They have experience with killing dragons."
"Blades? Who are they?"
Master Fu sighed. "This disappoints me, but doesn't surprise me. The Blades used to be the special guard to the Emperor. Since their downfall, those that survive have been waiting to aid the Last Dragonborn in the fight against the World-Eater. They consider this to be their final duty."
"What happened to them?"
"In short, the Aldmeri Dominion, the Thalmor. Any book on the Great War will tell you the story."
"Okay, go to The Graybeards and learn more Shouts, then keep an eye out for the Blades. Anything else?" He wrote down a plan of attack.
"I will let the Ladybug Miraculous wielder know to look for you. You should ally yourself with any wielder you can find, as they are stronger together."
"I'm not befriending the Molag Bal wielder," Hiccup said adamantly.
"Nor would I think she would receive you."
"Well…thank you, for all of this. I'm sorry I was short with you earlier. I just…"
"You are scared."
Hiccup hung his head, as he didn't want to admit it. It was not like a proud Nord to be afraid of destiny. But it was hard not to fear what he had been told.
"You can be afraid, but don't let your fear stop you from action. You will receive more guidance on your journey. You are not alone." He tapped the gem on the front of the crown. "You will never be alone."
Hiccup took solace in that, at least. While Toothless wasn't on this plane of existence, he was still with him.
"Now, as pleasant as this has been, I must go and meet with the new wielder."
"Right…I'll show you out…"
Hiccup and Master Fu returned to the upper landing where Stoick, Spitelout, and Gobber were still standing.
"Gentlemen, Your Lordship," Master Fu nodded to each of the men.
Stoick rushed to his son. "What happened? Are you okay? Did he use mind magic on you?!"
"What? No, no, dad, I'm fine. I told you it would be fine."
Stoick looked ready to protest, but didn't.
"Thank you for your hospitality, Jarl Stoick. I will be leaving now. Good luck, Hiccup." And he headed down the stairs, presumingly to never be seen again.
"What was it like?" Gobber asked, "talking to an actual Dwemer?"
"It honestly didn't feel all that different from talking to most people, actually."
"So what did he say? What does the crown do?" Stoick asked.
What was Hiccup supposed to do? There was absolutely no way Stoick would accept his fate! What could he possibly do?
Perhaps he needed to ease into it.
Hiccup swallowed. "Do…we have any familial ties to Tiber Septim?"
Gobber laughed.
Stoick scoffed, "Tiber Septim? No. He was a Nord, but he married a Cyrodilic woman and had an affair with Queen Barenziah. His direct line wasn't very long, but his brother's line went on until the end of the Septim Empire. Didn't you have studies on this?"
"Yes, and it was all very interesting," Hiccup assured.
"What does that have to do with the crown?" Stoick asked, more insistent.
Hiccup glanced at everyone in the room. He trusted Gobber and his father with this secret, but not Spitelout and the other two guards.
"Hiccup?"
"I…don't want everyone to know…" He held his arm.
Stoick calmed slightly, and tried to understand. "Who can you tell?"
"Can the three of us go on the porch?" He gestured to himself, Gobber, and Stoick.
"Of course, Lad!" Gobber wrapped an arm around him and corralled him out onto the Great Porch.
As the name suggests, the Great Porch was a large room, about the same width and height as the Great Hall, that had a large balcony that overlooked the vast fields and the Throat of the World in the distance. The three walked to the edge and sat at the table and chairs placed there.
"Alright son, you have us alone. Now, tell us about the crown."
"I'm getting there," Hiccup breathed, nervously rubbing his hands on his thighs. "You remember how this started, right?"
"You went delving in a Nordic Ruin," Gobber provided.
Stoick frowned. "You went looking for information about the Dragonborn."
Hiccup swallowed. "Well…I wasn't completely honest with you, then. I…I found the Dragonborn."
"What, like the skeleton of the man?" Gobber asked.
"No…I am the Last Dragonborn."
The two men were silent, and then started laughing.
Hiccup should have expected that.
"Oh lad, not gonna lie, you almost got me there! That was a good one!" Gobber wiped a tear from his eye.
Hiccup sighed, but ultimately just gave a little smile. "Yeah, can you imagine?"
"Alright, so I suppose your curse could be worse. I got it, son, I'm all calm now. What's the real curse?"
They couldn't believe him. Even if he was honest, they'd never believe him. That was just always how it was. There was no point.
So he'd continue to lie, and kick himself for it. "It's nothing. The crown will change its appearance the longer I wear it. And if I have any magic proficiencies, it would enhance them."
"Which you don't," said Stoick.
"...right…he mostly just shared the history of his people."
"Well, you are very lucky, son. Few people have found cursed artifacts and lived long enough to tell about it, let alone have a manual for use!"
"Yeah, pretty nifty…" Hiccup sighed. "Look, it's been a long day. I'm tired. Can I go have a nap?"
Stoick rubbed his son's head fondly. "Of course, Son. Get some rest."
"Yeah!" Called Gobber as Hiccup rose to his feet. "Get your rest now, because I'm going to work ya to the bone tomorrow!"
Hiccup just waved him off and retreated to his room.
