Chapter 9

[Author's Note: A shorter, much fluffier chapter here. Marcus realizes just how much he's missed being a Dad.]

Whiterun looked the same as he'd left it, but it was a somber homecoming. His first stop had to be at Warmaiden's, to inform Ulfberth of his sister's death. The big man stared at him glassy-eyed as Adrianne choked back a sob. They listened quietly as Marcus told his tale and handed over Uthgerd's sword. They had buried her in her armor. Ulfberth quietly thanked him for bringing the news. As Marcus left, Adrianne closed up shop early behind him. Shoulders sagging, he joined Benor, who had waited outside.

"They gonna be alright?" Benor asked sympathetically.

"In time, I think so," Marcus sighed. "They didn't blame me; said she died the way she'd have wanted. But I still feel responsible."

Benor nodded. "You're a good man, to feel that way," he said, "but they're right. Uthgerd made her own choices. You didn't force her to come with you."

Someone came running up to him at that point. He was a young man, wearing a brown tunic over brown trousers and a beige linen shirt.

"Are you Marcus Dragonborn?" the young man asked. When Marcus affirmed that he was, the man replied, "I've got a message for you; your hands only. Not sure from; he wouldn't say. Just that he was a friend of yours." He handed Marcus a sealed piece of parchment. "Looks like that's it," the young man said cheerfully. "Got to go!" He took off at a run toward the city gates.

"Who the hell was that?" Marcus wondered out loud.

"Hmph," Benor mused. "Courier. Those guys are everywhere, delivering messages all around Skyrim. I never understood how they don't get killed doing what they do. What's your note say? If you don't mind my askin', that is."

"Not out here," Marcus said. "That's my house, right there, and I haven't even seen the inside yet since I bought it. Let's go on in. Lydia should be there."

Lydia was indeed inside, and so was someone else.

"Papa! You're home!" Lucia threw herself into Marcus' arms, and he suddenly felt overcome with emotion. He'd missed this. God, how he had missed this!

"Lucia!" he said thickly, past the lump in his throat. "I thought you'd still be at the Bannered Mare." He hugged her tight. My little girl…was all he could think.

"I brought her home the day before yesterday, my Thane," Lydia explained, crossing over to him and taking his backpack from him. "Her room was all finished, and there was no reason she shouldn't get settled in as soon as possible."

Marcus threw her a grateful look. "Thank you, Lydia," was all he said, and his Housecarl beamed in response. "This is Benor, from Morthal," he introduced. "He helped me with Ustengrav—" Marcus found he couldn't finish. Lydia raised an eyebrow.

"Uthgerd?" she asked quietly.

"Not now," Marcus said, throwing a glance down at Lucia. "Later."

"Lucia, why don't you show your Papa around?" Lydia suggested. "He hasn't seen the house since before the workmen were here. I'll see to your guest, my Thane."

"Come and see my room, Papa!" Lucia urged him, tugging on his hand and dragging him to the back of the house.

"Name's Benor," the man from Morthal grinned, extending his hand. "I didn't know Marcus had a little girl. He never mentioned her."

"It's a new thing," Lydia murmured, taking his hand and shaking it. "I'm still getting used to her myself."

Lucia prattled on about all the wonderful things in her room, then shyly invited him to take anything from her trunk that she had collected. "You've already done so much for me, Papa," she said. "It's the least I can do."

"Don't you worry about that," Marcus said unsteadily. God, she was cute! Her dress was still dirty – he doubted the grime would ever come out – but her face and hands were clean, and her hair had been washed and combed. At least Lydia had seen to that. But the child needed new clothes, and unfortunately that meant Belethor's general store. No wonder she was still wearing the same dress she'd worn on the street. He didn't think Lydia wanted to go back to the sleazy Breton's establishment any more than he did. Still, it was the only place he would be able to find anything for Lucia to wear, unless he wanted to go all the way down to Riverwood. He had to do that anyway, but Lucia needed something clean and new now.

As they emerged from Lucia's room, Marcus took a look around the ground floor of Breezehome. It was small, there was no doubt about that. He didn't think there was much more than five hundred square feet, if that, on this level. A small dining and living area were here, along with a fireplace and cooking area which he had redesigned to set against the side wall instead of being in the middle of the room, as it had been when Proventus had first showed him the house.

No stove, no oven, and no refrigeration. No modern amenities at all, in fact. A small room beyond the eating area led back to a tiny privy which was probably the definition of "water closet". There was no indoor plumbing. The privy led straight down into the sewers under Whiterun, where it probably emptied into the stream that rushed to join the White River to the east of the city. He made a mental note not to wade through the stream, if he could help it.

Upstairs, as Lucia guided him around, was a small room set aside for Lydia, a sort of loft area, and then his master suite, which took up nearly half of the available space upstairs. No bathrooms up here either, he noted, and the warmth of the fire pit below was funneled through a chimney area at one side of the room. Small, but certainly cozy.

A trunk was set against one wall, and Marcus saw it was empty. He unloaded the dragon bones and scales he'd been lugging around since he and Benor left Hjaalmarch.

"What are those, Papa?" Lucia asked, wide-eyed. So Marcus sat down in the chair nearby, pulled her into his lap and told her the story of how he and Benor had fought and killed the dragon, and how he had taken its bones and scales, as well as its soul. Lucia snuggled up against him.

"You're the best papa in the world," she whispered. In a little while, her even breathing told him she was fast asleep. It was already dark outside, he realized, though he didn't think it was that late.

Carefully, so as not to waken her, he rose and carried her down the stairs to her room, laying her gently in her bed, and covering her over with her blanket.

"She finally fell asleep?" Lydia whispered from the doorway. Marcus nodded. Lydia gave a soft chuckle. "She's hardly slept at all since I brought her home, my Thane. She kept asking when you would return. I think she didn't want to miss it."

"Thanks for taking such good care of her, Lydia," he said quietly. "Where's Benor?"

"Heading down to the Bannered Mare to rent a room for the night," Lydia said. "He mentioned you had to go to Riverwood in the morning. Something about the Horn not being there?"

Marcus nodded, scowling, but Lydia knew it wasn't directed at her. He motioned for her to precede him into the living room and sit by the fire. When they were settled, Marcus told her all that had happened, including Uthgerd's death.

"Oh no!" Lydia exclaimed in dismay. "Does Ulfberth-?"

"I told them," Marcus said. "I stopped there first before we came home. They didn't blame me."

"But you still think it was your fault," Lydia said astutely.

"Of course it was my fault!" Marcus exclaimed, then lowered his voice, remembering the child who slept in the other room not far away. "I should never have asked her to go with me," he said miserably. "She'd still be alive, otherwise."

"And you would be dead, my Thane," Lydia said baldly.

"What?"

"If you had gone into that vampire lair alone, you would be dead now," his Housecarl repeated, honesty making her voice sound harsher than it was. "You were in no way prepared for what you found there. Experienced warriors would have thought twice before going in, and they wouldn't have gone in alone, or even with just one other person. They would have gone into a place like that in force. You don't mess around with vampires."

Marcus hung his head. Every word she said was true. He'd been a complete and utter fool, and it had cost Uthgerd her life.

"But you're also a hero, my Thane," Lydia said. Surprised, Marcus looked up at her. "You saved the entire town of Morthal from becoming blood-slaves to a cult of vampires," she went on. "And while you might not have used the best tactics – and yes, Uthgerd paid for that with her life – you nevertheless killed a vampire lord of legend. People will be talking about that for decades to come."

"I'm not so sure I want people talking about me," Marcus muttered. "Not when I fuck up like that, I don't." He raised his eyes again. "Sorry for the cuss word, Lydia. Uthgerd—" He swallowed. "Uthgerd told me it wasn't proper to swear like that in front of a lady. I forgot. I'm sorry."

"Thank you for that, my Thane," Lydia said simply. "I didn't think it was my place to say anything before, but it did bother me."

"Then you should have said something," he told her firmly. "And I really need to watch my mouth now that Lucia's here. Thanks for looking after her, by the way," he continued. "This isn't going to be a permanent thing, you know, you being stuck here with her. I'm going to find someone to stay with her when I need you to come with me on a quest."

Lydia took a deep breath. "My Thane," she began, "as your Housecarl, I am sworn to protect you, and all you own, with my life if necessary. That includes the most precious thing you have right now – your little girl. I've spent the last three days in Lucia's company, and I've been wondering why I've been so blind to her before now. She's smart, funny, compassionate, and the most loveable child I've known. I'm very glad you've taken her in, and given her a chance to grow and become somebody. She might never have had the chance if you hadn't."

"What are you saying, Lydia?" Marcus demanded. "Don't you want to go out on adventures with me?"

"Of course I do!" Lydia smirked. "What Housecarl to the Dragonborn wouldn't? But Lucia needs stability right now. It's something she hasn't had in her life. As the Dragonborn, you're not always going to be able to stay with her, and it would be impossible for you to take her with you. This is her home now, and I'm content to stay here with her, unless and until you move to another house, and have another Housecarl look after her for you."

"I've only got the one house, and the one Housecarl, Lydia," Marcus said wryly. "Just how many do you think I'm entitled to?" He chuckled, as if the very idea were ludicrous.

But Lydia looked at him soberly and said, "More than you think." She got up and retrieved a sealed parchment from a side table. Returning to her seat, she handed it to him. "This came for you after you left," she said. "The courier said it was for your hands only, but I tipped him enough to get him to leave it here for you. It's from the Jarl of Falkreath."

"Remind me again," Marcus said. "Where is Falkreath?"

"South of here, my Thane. Its capital city is also called Falkreath. Siddgeir is the Jarl."

Marcus opened the letter and quickly scanned its contents.

"Marcus Dragonborn," the letter began, "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Siddgeir, and I have the honor to be the Jarl of the proud and ancient city of Falkreath. The fame of your exploits across Skyrim has brought you to my attention. If you are interested in becoming a Thane of Falkreath Hold, I invite you to speak to me the next time you are in Falkreath. Aside from the honor that accrues to the title, my thanes are entitled to a personal Housecarl. I also can tell you privately that a choice parcel of land in Falkreath Hold would be available for your purchase should your services prove useful to me. I look forward to meeting you in person. I remain, Jarl Siddgeir of Falkreath."

Marcus set the letter down. "What an unctuous fop!" he exclaimed.

Lydia couldn't help herself. She burst out laughing. "I've heard the Jarl of Falkreath described many ways," she chuckled, "but that's a new one!"

"He's obviously brown-nosing," Marcus said dismissively, tossing the letter into the fire. "He's trying to connect his name with the Dragonborn. There's no other reason why he would contact me like this."

"Would that be such a bad thing, my Thane?"

"I'm not going to be a boot-licking toady to every lord across Skyrim who wants to further their own agenda through me," he scowled. "He can go sit on a flagpole and rotate, as far as I'm concerned."

Lydia pursed her lips. Marcus knew that look. He sighed.

"Alright," he said finally. "Tell me why I should give a flying skeever's backside about the Jarl of Falkreath wanting to make me a Thane of his Hold."

Her Thane's colorful euphemisms were playing havoc with Lydia efforts to remain stoic and sensible. "Well, for one thing," she began slowly, so as not to break out into a grin, "as a Thane in that Hold, you'll be in a position to help more people."

"Yes, because that's worked out so well so far," he groused.

"Actually, it has," Lydia said. "You helped Amren get his ancestral sword back, remember? You helped Severio Pelagia bring his crops in a few weeks ago, before that early frost, which would have killed them before he could harvest them. You recovered Andurs' amulet for him at the Hall of the Dead, got Mikael to leave Carlotta alone and adopted Lucia. You've made the roads around here safer to travel by ridding the area of all the bandits that Jarl Balgruuf hasn't had the men to spare for. And now you've helped the people of Hjaalmarch by taking out a cavern full of vampires." This last was said just a bit wistfully, as if Lydia still wished she could have been there.

"Okay, I get it," Marcus sighed. "I've really had a wonderful life."

"Well, I don't know about that," Lydia said, "but you can take this for what it's worth, my Thane: the people of Whiterun look up to you as a Hero, because you're the Dragonborn. It doesn't matter to them that you're Imperial, not Nord. What matters is that they trust you. They feel better just knowing you're there, somewhere nearby, whether it's here at Breezehome, somewhere in the city, or out on the roads, patrolling the Hold. Just knowing that you're out there gives them a sense of security that there is someone who will fight for them, even when their Jarls can't…or won't."

Lydia finished speaking and waited for her Thane to say something. Finally, drawing a resigned breath, Marcus spoke.

"So you think I should go see this Jarl Siddgeir, then?"

"It's not for me to say, my Thane," Lydia replied. "It's your decision."

"I'll have to think about it," Marcus said. "You've made some good points, Lydia. Thank you for putting it into perspective for me."

"Not at all, my Thane," she replied. "Now, I'll get some supper for you. You must be hungry after traveling all day."

As she busied herself putting a meal together, Marcus remembered the other note he'd received. He pulled it out of his belt pouch and began to read.

"Dragonborn, you caused a bit of stir in Hjaalmarch when you demonstrated the power of your Thu'um. Not everyone is anxious for the return of the Dragonborn. I, for one, desire to see you grow and develop your talents. Skyrim needs a true hero these days.

"You should direct your attention to Dead Men's Respite. I understand it holds a mysterious source of power that can only be unlocked by the Dragonborn. Sincerely, A Friend."

"A bit of stir in Hjaalmarch?" Marcus muttered. But only he and Benor were present when he Shouted at the dragon. Was Benor playing a prank on him? No, that couldn't be right, since Benor – by his own admission – could neither read nor write. Then again, there had been a time when Marcus was convinced this entire new world was some elaborate hoax being perpetrated on him. So who could this mysterious friend be? And where in Skyrim was Dead Men's Respite?

Marcus pulled out his map and pored over it as Lydia served up his evening meal. It took some time before he finally found it, in a valley along the river southwest of Morthal.

Crap, he thought. I was just up there!

Still, it was practically guaranteed by this mysterious 'friend' that there was another Shout there. He'd found one in Ustengrav, down in its deepest depths. Feim, was the Word, and he still wasn't sure he wanted to use his one and only dragon soul to unlock its meaning. Master Wulfgar had told him he would always have the choice of which Word to unlock first. He'd also learned from the Greybeards that the Word he'd learned in Shroud Hearth Barrow, kaan, was part of a Shout to calm animals. At this rate, he was going to have an entire dictionary of Shouts without nearly enough souls to unlock them!

"I'm just going to have to kill a few more dragons," he murmured.

"What's that, my Thane?" Lydia asked.

"Nothing," he muttered. "I'm going to stay up and read for a bit, Lydia," he told her as she cleared away the remains of the meal. "I won't need anything else tonight."

"As you wish, my Thane," she smiled. "I'll say good-night then."

Wiping down the table with a cloth, she shook it out over the fireplace before hanging it on a hook nearby to dry. Mounting the stairs, she disappeared into her room.

Something had changed with her, Marcus realized. She wasn't mooning after him the way she'd done before he left for Morthal. There was no awkwardness now, or barely concealed clinginess. She had apparently accepted her role as his Housecarl with no other strings or suppositions attached. It was a relief, really. He hadn't exactly been dreading coming home, but he did wonder if he needed to say anything to Lydia about the way he'd treated her before.

The answer to that was clearly 'no'. She was still there to help and advise him, and help him navigate his way around Skyrim. She would look after his child, his home and his property, and seemed content to do so. They could remain on friendly terms while still being Thane and Housecarl, and the relief he felt over this was comforting.

Deciding to skip the book reading for tonight – although volume three of Brief History of the Empire beckoned – Marcus snuffed out the candles, banked the fire in the fireplace, made sure the door was locked and retired for the night. As he settled into the sleeping furs, he said a prayer to whatever Divines this world had for Uthgerd's soul, that she would be welcomed into the afterlife of her choice. It was more than he'd been given.

Morning dawned bright and early, as mornings usually do. Marcus woke feeling better than he had for some time, but he still would gladly have killed for a cup of coffee. It was good to sleep in his own bed, he thought. He still missed Lynne terribly, and wondered – not for the first time – if it all wasn't just some horrible mistake, and that they would still be together in Heaven when he died.

Marcus shook his head to clear it. He couldn't think about that now. He had intended to head to Riverwood today, but after his homecoming last night, he decided to spend the day at home with Lucia, and get her properly outfitted, as befit the daughter of the Thane of Whiterun.

He got up and got dressed, hesitating over whether to don his armor. He was at home, in Whiterun. What could possibly go wrong? But Lydia's earlier words of caution made him heave an exasperated sigh and he struggled into the Nordic armor, which didn't seem as heavy as it used to. Perhaps Lydia was right, and he was becoming accustomed to its weight.

Downstairs, Lucia was already up.

"Good morning, Papa!" she exclaimed upon seeing him. She ran over and gave him a bear-cub hug and he hugged her back, kissing the top of her head. She was still wearing the same grimy green dress.

"Good morning to you, chica," he smiled.

"What does that word mean?" she asked.

"It means 'little girl' where I come from," he explained. "It's used as a term of endearment between a parent and a child."

"Oh!" Lucia giggled happily, then her face grew serious. "Are you going to be leaving again today, Papa?" she asked.

"Who said that?" Marcus queried.

"Lydia said she thought you had to go to Riverwood today," Lucia explained, sitting down at the table as Lydia served up breakfast.

Marcus looked at his Housecarl, who shrugged. "I thought that was your intention, my Thane," she said.

"Maybe it was yesterday," Marcus said slowly, "but I think I need to stay home today and spend the day with my daughter."

Lucia's eyes lit up and she wriggled with delight in her seat. "Yay!" she cried.

"I'll take her with me down to the market and get her some new clothes," Marcus told Lydia in a low voice. "I guess you weren't too keen about visiting the general store?" He left the question hanging with a sly grin.

"Ugh!" Lydia snorted. "That man makes my skin crawl," she hissed, low enough that Lucia couldn't hear her.

Marcus chuckled. "Thought not," he grinned. "I also need to talk to Benor. I promised him we'd go to Riverwood, but it's not going to happen today. I need to let him know."

An hour later, Marcus and Lucia headed into the market district. At the Bannered Mare, he met up with Benor and explained his intention to stay in Whiterun for the day.

"No problem," said Benor, cheerfully. "I haven't been here in a while, and there's a lot to do. I'll catch up with you later."

At Belethor's, Marcus picked out several dresses and smallclothes for Lucia, as well as several pairs of shoes. Lucia didn't like how they pinched her feet, but Marcus insisted she needed to start wearing them. He also bought her a new doll, which she latched onto immediately, crooning and cuddling it, and picked up two lutes, one for himself and one for Lucia. The child grew very excited over the prospect of learning how to make music of her own.

Throughout the transactions, Marcus kept a stern eye on Belethor, who looked as though he desperately wanted to make some kind of snide comment. The glares Marcus shot at him, coupled with the growing reputation of the Dragonborn, kept the slimy Breton's mouth shut except where business was concerned.

Then it was home again so Lucia could change into one of her new dresses. Marcus gave the old green one to Lydia with a whispered, "Burn this!"

Later that day, Marcus and Lucia climbed the steps up to Dragonsreach, where the Thane of Whiterun presented his daughter to the court. Lucia stared wide-eyed at everything, and lost her voice completely when the Jarl spoke kindly to her, only nodded and bobbing curtseys in response. In her entire, short, hard life, she had never imagined she would ever see the inside of the Jarl's palace.

The Jarl's children seemed singularly unimpressed with the Thane's daughter. The girl, Dagny, sniffed and turned up her nose completely, uncaring how rude she was being. Nelkir, only year younger, and looking very little like his siblings, merely commented, "Huh! Another wanderer here to lick my father's boots. Good job," before turning his back on Lucia and her father. Only the eldest, Frothar said kindly, "Don't pay them any mind. They're just children. Say, do you know how to fight?"

Lucia shrank back and Marcus put a protective arm around her. "No, Frothar, she doesn't."

"Aww, too bad," the boy said. "Well, see ya!" He took off after his brother and sister.

"Papa?" Lucia whispered. "I don't think I want to play with them."

"Sweetheart, I don't blame you," Marcus assured her.

The court mage, Farengar, was surprisingly kind to Lucia, which went a long way towards restoring Marcus' opinion of the man. The wizard directed most of his questions to Lucia, rather than to her father, and drew the little girl out of her shell. After a solid half-hour of conversation, the Nord confided in the Dragonborn, "She's got a good head on her shoulders. She's intelligent and curious, and that means she'll be able to learn pretty much anything she wants to learn. She's a delightful change from my usual pupils," he added, with a scathing look thrown out into the main hall, where Dagny and Frothar were arguing again.

"So, little Lucia," Farengar said to the child, "do you think you'd like a career in magic?"

Lucia considered this carefully. "I'm not sure, Master Farengar," she said honestly. "I'm only eight years old, and there's a lot to learn about magic. I think I really want to learn more about music right now. Papa bought me a lute and he said he'd teach me to play it."

Farengar looked faintly disappointed, but he covered it well. "Of course you should pursue what interests you," he agreed. "And your Papa is a good man to help you with that," here he nodded towards Marcus. "But if you ever decide you want to learn more about magic, you should go to the College at Winterhold."

"Thank you, Master Farengar!" Lucia smiled. "I'll remember that!"

"Thank you," Marcus told the mage sincerely.

"Not at all," Farengar smiled. "Despite what most people think, and despite the examples running around here, I actually like children."

As they headed back to Breezehome, three children rushed past them in the Wind District, just outside the Temple to Kynareth. One of them, the boy, stopped short and turned back.

"Lucia?" he exclaimed.

"Hey Lars," she smiled shyly. "It's me."

"Lucia, I can't believe it! You look so nice!" Well, the boy would never win points for diplomacy, Marcus thought wryly, but his daughter didn't seem to mind.

"Thanks!"

"We're playing tag," Lars Battle-Born told her. "Do you want to play with us?"

Lucia looked up at Marcus. "Can I, Papa?" she asked.

"May I," he corrected gently.

"May I, then?"

"Sure, go on and have fun," he smiled. Lucia hugged him, then took off at a run after her playmates. Marcus watched them go and smiled. So, she didn't have to rub shoulders with the Jarl's kids. That was okay by him. They were the stereotypical rich man's kids if he ever saw them. Frothar was nice enough, but even he seemed a bit too obsessed with fighting, and there was no way he wanted his Lucia exposed to that.

"Ugh!" Lydia exclaimed when he returned to Breezehome and told her of his trip to Dragonsreach with his daughter. "Those children are the worst-behaved in all of Whiterun, I'm sure of it! I'm glad you're not going to let her play there."

"Well, I wouldn't say that I won't let her play there," Marcus qualified. "If Lucia really wanted to go up there, I wouldn't stop her. But I certainly don't want their bad habits to rub off on her. And that older boy, Frothar seemed way too focused on fighting."

"It's all those three do all day long," Lydia said. "Fight with each other, that is. I don't know what's gotten into them lately. They used to get along so well. And that Nelkir! The things he says!"

Marcus' curiosity was piqued now. "What kind of things?"

Lydia compressed her lips. "It's better not to get involved, my Thane," she advised. "It's the Jarl's business, not ours."

"You've kind of gone too far to stop now, Lydia," he said sternly.

Lydia looked unhappy, but relented. "I know Jarl Balgruuf is worried about his younger son," she finally said. "But he's not the kind of father you seem to be. You just come to it naturally. You've only really been back for a day, and yet you've taken your daughter out and spent time with her, even though there are places you need to be and things you need to do. You've taken the time to be with her. I don't think Jarl Balgruuf knows how to do that," she finished.

"It's called 'parenting', Lydia," Marcus said. "If you're going to bring children into the world, or take on the responsibilities of a child by adopting, you don't just do it when it's convenient for you and forget about it when it's not."

Lydia nodded. "I know, my Thane," she said. "That's why I understand why you wanted me to stay behind and look after Lucia until you could return. I admit I was a bit resentful at first, but I realized that this was something that was important to you, that you trusted me with this task. And if it's important to you, then as your Housecarl, it should be important to me."

Marcus knew in that moment that any fear he had that Lydia would fall in love with him were finally laid to rest. They could go on from here as Thane and Housecarl, the way it should be. He gave her a nod and a smile. "Thank you for realizing what this means to me. Maybe someday, I'll be able to tell you why. And maybe I'll just have to have a talk with the Jarl about his children," he mused. "Maybe all the man needs are a few pointers on how to be more involved with his childrens' lives."

Lydia snorted. "Good luck with that one, my Thane!"

[Author's Note: No, Lydia has lost none of her attitude. That's what I love about her. She's come to terms with her role in the Dragonborn's life, and she's okay with that. Don't worry about her. Good things are in store for those who wait. Next up, Marcus and Benor head to Riverwood to catch a thief, and Benor finds out that there's a reason why the dragons with names are harder to kill. And Marcus' talk with the Jarl about his children leads to darker and more disturbing trouble than he could have imagined.]