The best way I found to describe Solitude was tall. Everything, from the people to the buildings to the ground itself, felt so much taller than Whiterun or Windhelm. And I knew I was on the short side. I'd always been. Serana and I crossed the streets as Tullius guided us to the Blue Palace. Guards and legionaries carried the wounded to the Temple of the Divines while the deceased were sent to the Hall of the Dead.

Somehow, even though everything was built in stone, I didn't get that feeling of coldness Wildhelm gave me. But, at the same time, it didn't feel as warm and homely as Whiterun.

Contrary to what Tullius had feared, Jarl Elisif gave Serana and I a warm welcome. A feast was being prepared. Her court mage, Sybille Stentor, took one look at Serana and nearly dragged her to the dungeon. It was only when they returned two hours later that I noticed both had glowing golden eyes.

The woman was a vampire. Since she was tolerated and even appreciated, I hazarded she fed on the prisoners.

Jarl Elisif treated us to a feast and gave us a room inside the Blue Palace. Tullius was clearly pleased with her decisions, though her steward seemed mildly annoyed.

"Isn't it too much for a child?"

And… there we went. Again. I sighed. Before I could speak, Tullius cut him.

"Not for that child. I didn't see you fight that dragon with us, Firebeard."

I suddenly had a lot of respect for General Tullius. Elisif crossed her arms.

"Besides, you and I are both Nords, Falk. We know the tales of the Dragonborn. That Harry is a child yet still proves them true shows how strong he is. Sure, as adults, it is our responsibility to help him, but otherwise? He is strong, and he deserves our utmost respect." She looked at me. "I still feel awkward treating you like an adult, but you earned it."

"Don't worry." I reassured. "Until I met Balgruuf, the adults I knew barely cared for my wellbeing. The most I usually got was a pat in the back."

Tullius rolled his eyes.

"Their loss, then."

Naturally, I spent a good deal of the feast telling my adventures. It still felt awkward, though. I had never been comfortable sharing my deeds. It made me feel wrong inside, so I tried to be as objective as possible. People noticed.

"One thing he and Nords don't have in common: Nords are better at telling stories."

"I prefer others do it for me." I shrugged and chewed a venison steak. "Besides, I'm only half-Nord on Mom's side."

"And what's the other half?"

"Breton."

Falk sipped some wine before he asked.

"What happened to them?"

"Someone killed them, an old enemy they had been fighting for some time."

I felt Akatosh whisper in my ear and, suddenly, I knew what Voldemort was.

"…A lich, old and powerful. He killed my father, but Mom invoked the Blessing of Mara to shield me. It didn't save her but, when Voldemort tried to kill me, his spell backfired and killed him instead. The problem is that he split his soul in several fragments, so he isn't completely dead. If I want to kill him, I have to find those fragments and destroy them. I got the one he hid in his old diary, and Akatosh and Hermaeus Mora dealt with the fragment his spell accidentally left in my head – Akatosh filled the hole with a fragment of himself to make me Dragonborn. I don't know how many are left but, once Alduin is dealt with, it's on my list."

And it was mostly the truth, thanks to the knowledge Akatosh provided. It just lacked a lot of context. But, for the time being, it would be enough. Tullius gave me a funny look.

"And you were how old when you destroyed that diary?"

"Twelve. And no, I wasn't rewarded for it. I only got a *Thank you*, and that's after I was accused of releasing a horrible monster – which wasn't my fault, by the way. I ended killing that pest and used its fang to destroy the diary, and its venom nearly killed me."

I carefully watched the reactions of the people present. Tullius hung his head. Rikke put a hand to her face. Serana seemed amused. Elisif was gaping. Falk was puzzled. He was the first to speak.

"Are you sure you're only thirteen?"

"Yes."

Serana chuckled sadly.

"And here I thought my life was ugly. Glad to know I'm not alone."

Tullius shook his head.

"I don't know who was watching over you before but, if we meet, I am going to have words."

"Akatosh already did it."

"I don't care."

He was concerned about my wellbeing and it made me feel warm inside. Rikke sighed helplessly.

"What kind of world do we live in, that a child so young had to see so much? At least, you have people who care for you, now."

"I do." I smiled. "And I could never thank them enough."

Elisif crossed her arms and looked at me.

"Harry, the doors of the Blue Palace are open to you. If you find yourself in Solitude for any reason, know you will always have a free bed and warm food under my roof. That, I declare as the Jarl of Solitude. And, if someone has a problem with it, they can tell it to my face."

Her voice was hot and firm, challenging. No one rose to it. I spent the night in a very comfortable bed and woke up the next day fully rested. A quick breakfast of milk and sweetroll and Falk came to find me.

"General Tullius is waiting for you at Castle Dour. Your friend is already on her way."

"Thanks."

Castle Dour was up the hill at the end of Solitude's main street. I jogged there to warm myself and found Serana at the entrance.

"Don't worry, I already ate. The dungeon is under the fort."

I nodded. To our surprise, it wasn't just Tullius and Rikke who were waiting for us inside. Elisif was here as well.

"She insisted." The general sighed.

Elisif looked at him.

"I need experience if I want to become an effective ruler, especially with the dragons around. I appreciate Falk's advice, but what I lack is practical experience and this is something I can only get on the field." She tapped the steel sword at her side. "If a thirteen-year-old can become an effective Dragonborn in a handful of months, I can become a proper Jarl and commander in that amount of time. So, here I am."

Tullius shrugged helplessly and turned to me.

"Yesterday, you said Akatosh wants us to talk and vampires are becoming a new problem."

"I said that, yes."

A thought crossed my mind. Acting on it, I told them about the vampire attack on Riverwood, my meeting of the Dawnguard and Dimhollow Crypt, along with Akatosh's possession and his message. It took some time, and Serana helped. By the end, Tullius was tapping the table, Rikke was looking genuinely worried and Elisif was glancing at her sword.

"I chose the right time to learn fighting."

"Indeed." Tullius hissed. "As if the dragons and the Thalmor weren't enough. Now, we have the vampires to watch out for. Divines, what in Mundus is going on?"

"With Alduin's return, the end of the world?" Rikke suggested.

"I wish that statement was sarcasm… Rikke? The package from Cyrodiil."

Rikke left and returned soon after with a chest. Inside, to my surprise, was a full suit of gleaming chainmail.

"Mithril mail." The general explained. "The best you can get in Cyrodiil in term of light armor. Harry, let's be honest: you are not fighting bandits, monsters, dragons and vampires in flimsy leather armor. It isn't resilient-enough. The weapons, between a Daedric Artifact and a Blade's katana, I'm less concerned."

The armor was clearly of excellent quality.

"Thank you, General."

"Just doing my part in saving the world… So to say."

"I still appreciate."

I found a quiet spot to change. Indeed, the armor fit me almost like a glove. I had room to grow in case of a growth spurt but, otherwise, the chainmail remained comfortable. Tullius and Rikke nodded appreciatively when I returned, and even Serana seemed to appreciate.

"I agree: now, you look like a proper hero. In fact, if you were better-built, you could pass for a real knight in shining armor."

"I prefer that to the more barbarian looks Nords favor." Tullius grumbled.

Rikke gave him a funny look but shrugged him off. Now we were all ready, we sat around the table. The general frowned and turned to Serana.

"I'll be honest: regardless of the Lord of Time's instructions, I don't like the idea of returning a powerful vampire lord's daughter to him, especially one in possession of an Elder Scroll. But Akatosh gave clear instructions, so we have no choice but comply. Harry, you will bring Serana home while I warn my men of the new threat. Once you're done, warn Balgruuf and Ulfric as well and wait for your patron's next instructions. Maybe warn Kunovaak and the Greybeards while you are at it. The more people know, the more people will be ready to strike the vampires when they make their move. With due respect for the Dawnguard, the vampires nearly annihilated the Vigils of Stendarr. I don't see them faring better, not without help."

"Your concern is understandable, General."

"In the meantime, Elisif, if you want a teacher, I will be it. I approve of your decision, but you need to temper your hotheadedness."

"I know."

"Good. Harry, Serana, take whatever you need and do what you must. We will meet again when we have to."

"Understood."

"Thanks for the assistance, general."

Serana quirked a grin as she spoke. We supplied ourselves in Castle Dour's reserves and, while I was at it, I looked for several books on Tamriel's history. Serana had been asleep for so long she didn't even know Cyrodiil was home to an empire, so it had to be a very long time. I found several: A brief history of the Empire, The Third Era Timeline and, finally, The Oblivion Crisis. This one, I decided to read first. We read as we headed from Meridia's Shrine to the road that would lead us to Serana's home, Castle Volkihar. The few pests and bandits we met learned at their expense that, just because we were busy, it didn't mean we were distracted. One bandit and two wolves got impaled on icicles by Serana. I chased the rest with fire.

Finally, as the sky turned a deep pink, we reached a pier with a small rowboat. I looked in the distance. I could see a castle among the mists. It didn't seem that big, but we were far. So, Serana and I got on the rowboat, Hedwig and Barbas sitting around us. The closer we got, the taller the castle became... and more sinister as well. It was dark, looming over us as fog hung around it. The smell, that strange mixture of rot, blood and sea salt, permeated the air. I saw gargoyles when we crossed the bridge and wondered which could animate and attack. An elderly man was waiting for us at the entrance.

"Lady Serana's back! Open the gate!"

The gate opened. We entered the castle and let the old man guide us to the main hall. the deeper we went, the stronger the stench of blood was. Finally, we reached our destination. The hall was lit, but I wished the light was dimmer, because seeing men and women digging deep in fresh human corpses on the banquet tables made me feel sick. A man was waiting for us. As the elder man introduced us, we stepped forward. The man smiled. I could see his elongated fangs and golden eyes.

"My long-lost daughter returns at last. I trust you have my Elder Scroll?"

"After all these years, that's the first thing you ask me?" Serana huffed. "Yes, I have the scroll."

Serana's father chuckled.

"Of course I'm delighted to see you, my daughter. Must I really say the words aloud? Ah, if only your traitor mother were here, I would let her watch this reunion before putting her head on a spike. Now tell me, who is this stranger you have brought into our hall?"

"This is my savior, the one who freed me."

Her tone was defensive. I, too, was on edge. Especially when the man turned to me.

"For my daughter's safe return, you have my gratitude. Tell me, what is your name?"

Taking a breath to steady myself, I tried to meet his gaze.

"I am Harry Potter, Sir. Who are you?"

The man's smile widened, revealing more fangs.

"I am Harkon, lord of this court. By now, my daughter will have told you what we are."

"I do. You are vampires."

I was rewarded by a short laugh.

"Not just vampires. We are among the oldest and most powerful vampires in Skyrim. For centuries we lived here, far from the cares of the world. All that ended when my wife betrayed me and stole away that which I valued most."

"Your Elder Scroll, which she sealed alongside Serana."

"Indeed." Harkon stroked his beard. "You are a child. So young and small, yet you retrieved the Elder Scroll and my daughter. This means you're strong despite your age. What a terrible dilemma..."

I couldn't help but frown.

"What's the issue?"

"The issue is that you have done me a great service, and now you must be rewarded. There is but one gift I can give that is equal in value to the Elder Scroll and my daughter. I offer you my blood. Take it, and you will walk as a lion among sheep. Men will tremble at your approach, and you will never fear death again. However, to become a vampire prevents the body from aging. Were you to accept by offer, you would forever remain a boy. Or I could wait, of course. For you to become an adult, then turn you once you are finally of age. So, to turn you now or wait a few more years... Ah, in the end, the choice is yours. So, what do you decide?"

I steadied myself and put a hand in Barbas's fur for courage. I could feel Akatosh's presence in the back of my head. My Amulet warmed up.

My eyes met Harkon's.

"My apologies, Lord Harkon, but I must decline your generous offer. I will not become a vampire."

It was a miracle of Akatosh that my voice remained steady. Harkon stopped smiling. The room went silent. Suddenly, everyone's gaze was on me. The vampire lord glared.

"Then you will be prey, like all mortals. I will spare your life this once, but you will be banished from this hall." His smile returned, this time predatory. "Perhaps you still need convincing? Behold the power!"

He transformed, and I beheld the true appearance of a vampire lord. It was as if someone had crossed a human with a bat and given them a grey skin. The wings were somewhat vestigial and the clothes were modest, to remain polite, but there was a cape. There was a crown. There were sharp claws and sharper fangs.

I could feel his power almost physically. This wasn't a being I could defeat alone.

"This is the power that I offer! Now, make your choice!"

I felt Akatosh bare his fangs within me. The Amulet shone. His power flowed into me as my dovahsil awoke and snarled. My eyes began to tingle, and I instinctively knew they had gained a purple ring. I smirked, and through me, so did the Lord of Time. Our next words were as much an answer as they were a challenge.

"Tell me, Lord Harkon, what creature calls a dragon its prey?"

I saw the vampire lord pause. Harkon transformed back and looked at me again, but there was no contempt in his eyes. There was wariness.

"I see. Very well. I am a man of my words. Leave my hall and do not return, least we find the answer to this question... dragon-child."

I nodded and left. There were people I needed to talk to.

§ § §

Harkon and Serana watched the teen leave before turning to each other. The vampiric lord crossed his arms.

"Serana, dearest, would you care to explain why a paladin of Akatosh was allowed inside my home and out and by what miracle nobody died?"

Serana glared.

"You said it, Father: Akatosh. Harry isn't just the Lord of Time's paladin. He is a Dragonborn as well."

Orthjolf froze.

"A Dragonborn? As in, one of those legendary heroes who hunt dragons and devour their souls? Like Miraak, Reman Cyrodiil and Tiber Septim?"

"Yes. As a matter of fact, I saw him learn the Word on the Wall of Dimhollow Crypt and absorb the soul of the dragon that was attacking Solitude. Harry is a Dragonborn. Not only that, Akatosh specifically chose him to face Alduin."

The Nord blinked.

"You said Alduin. You wouldn't mean... the World-Eater, by any chance?"

"Yes. Why?"

Orthjolf took a deep breath, turned to grab a femur and gnawed it to soothe his nerves. When he spoke, his tone was somber.

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.

"The Prophecy of the Last Dragonborn. A prophecy even older than the Tyranny of the Sun. I should've guessed. Every portent happened. The Imperial Simulacrum, the Warp in the West, the Fall of the Tribunal, the Oblivion Crisis and, finally, Skyrim's Civil War. And now, Alduin the World-Eater is back. He who once ruled over Skyrim and sought to dominate the world rather than destroy it as is his purpose. And the boy who brought you back, Harry, isn't just a Dragonborn but The Last Dragonborn. The only one who can stop Alduin."

Vingalmo huffed.

"So what if he is? He remains a child, and one who denied us."

"Yes, because he has more important matters to take care of. Stopping Alduin, for starters." Orthjolf turned to Harkon. "My Lord, regardless of any grief we may hold against the child, I suggest we assist him."

Harkon's glare was murderous.

"Orthjolf? Choose your next words carefully. While I am grateful for the boy to have returned my Elder Scroll and Serana, I am not that grateful."

The Nord met his glare.

"The Tyranny of the Sun cannot come true of Alduin devours the world. That is what I'm saying, my Lord."

Serana looked away.

"Good point."

Approval rang across the halls. While Vingalmo seemed distrustful, a lot of people seemed to agree with Orthjolf. Eventually, Harkon nodded.

"I will consider the matter in private. In the meantime, let everyone feast and celebrate. Today is a joyous day."

Yet, as Orthjolf sat back, he glanced around him and breathed. Feran Sadri, Rargal and Hestla looked nervous as well. Good. He wasn't alone. What was the point of taking over the world if Alduin was going to devour it once they were done?

The biggest hurdle was finding what armor to give Harry. It was about time he upgraded from basic leather. Playing Oblivion (something I can no longer do, my new graphic card is too strong) gave me the idea of the mithril armor. Straight from Cyrodiil !

And poor Tullius feels like the only sane guy in Skyrim.