The door to the Blue Palace slams open as Surtr walks inside, his Ebony and Dragonbone armour striking a powerful picture for the guards and servants who look his way. On his back rested Wuuthrad, the battleaxe once used by Ysgramor as he settled Skyrim... It had been in the hands of the Companions when he'd decided to make use of the legendary weapon for himself, much to their reluctant chagrin.
There wasn't much they could do to reject him however, his status as the Dragonborn made it impossible to refuse his request. Especially when considering his status as a Companion... It might even seem like a betrayal to deny him, forcing their hand in the matter.
He takes his helmet off as he reaches the throne, revealing his scarred, battle-worn face and thick beard. "You called me, Ulfric. What is it?" he asks the Jarl, or better yet, High King.
"I'll take your haste as worry for the realm instead of as a slight." he shakes his head, "I have called you here for several matters, some guests apparently have important information concerning the return of the dragons, but before that... Skyrim now belongs to its rightful owners, but threats still linger. Tell me, did you form an opinion on the Emperor during your stay in Cyrodil?"
Surtr crooks a curious brow, "A frail, weak man with little influence and a spine to match it. Is it any wonder that the Elves defeated him?"
Ulfric nods, "My thoughts exactly. Gone are the golden years of the Septim dynasty... But it doesn't have to be that way any longer." he states as he links his fingers shrewdly, unbefitting the Nord's usual temperament. "Arguably, you and Tiber Septim, Talos, share the same lineage, both descendants of Akatosh... Your claim to the Imperial Throne is far stronger than anyone else..."
"And you'd just hand me this?" Surtr challenges, "Isn't your goal the whole of the Empire?" he'd always thought that Ulfric's aspirations were far higher than he implicitly states. A man like Ulfric wouldn't usually just stop where his borders end, and the only real way to get his revenge on the Thalmor was to wipe them out entirely. From both the Summerset Isles and Cyrodil.
Ulfric shakes his head, "You've misunderstood my intentions. I only wished for Skyrim to be able to choose its own laws, gods, and traditions... I'd have stayed my hand had the Thalmor not started kicking at our doors... That was my plan, anyway. Until you appeared. The rightful heir to the Empire, one who would respect Skyrim and fight against our true enemy, the Thalmor."
...
"What would you have me do? Declare myself Emperor and see who rallies behind me? I may find support here in Skyrim but, even I know that isn't nearly enough."
Ulfric nods, "I am aware, but we're just talking about whether or not you'd accept the position. We can talk logistics and securing alliances after that."
...
"Fine, I accept... But first we need to take care of our dragon problem. Alduin is not the World-Eater for his love of sweet rolls."
"Aye, but your guests might be more helpful in that regard. Something about a temple and prophecy." Ulfric shrugs, "You'd know better than I if it's worth anything."
Surtr nods and quietly stomps away, leaving Ulfric alone with his Housecarl, Galmar Stone-Fist.
"You should have asked him, wasting time stepping around it harms everyone." the gruff man states.
Ulfric lets out a sigh. They both knew well what he was talking about, every since their plan to place Surtr as Emperor they'd had spies following him around and tracking him, recording every one of the many women the man had slept with.
Yet... Not a single one had turned up pregnant. They weren't sure if Surtr had a hand in it, preventing this, or if he was just as clueless as them. But whatever it was it spelt doom for their plans should they succeed... Without an heir, Surtr's line would end before it even started, leaving them in the same situation as before.
"It's my folly, but is it strange that I find asking a man if his seed sprouts foul?"
Galmar shrugs, "You'll have to ask eventually... Unless you plan on pinning it on me...?" he grouses, not wanting such a duty.
"Let's just leave it for now... Have some starstruck girls see to him, by gods I'll sheath his cock for him if that's what it takes to get things going!"
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Surtr makes his way into the next room where he finds an armoured Delphine standing next to a skinny old man. He turns and steps to leave but gets stopped by the woman's memorably annoying voice...
"Hold on! We didn't come all this way to have you ignore us!"
"And I didn't come all this way to see your whore-face again, Delphine, or have you forgotten the way you abandoned Ralof and I while we were fighting a dragon? A dragon that you pushed me into pursuing!?" he growls, causing her to bite her tongue to strangle her response.
"Please wait, Dragonborn, we have information that may be the key to defeating Alduin once and for all!" the old man exclaims imploringly.
...
"Say your piece, quickly. I don't have time to entertain every beggar on the street." he states, sending a look at the duo.
Esbern ignores the insults and quickly nods, unfurling a large, ancient-looking map atop the table. "I was an archivist during my time with the Blades, and I've only learned more in my isolation as the Thalmor hunted me... During my research, I managed to trace the location of an ancient Akavari Temple where Alduin's Wall rests!"
"Alduin's Wall...?"
Esbern nods, "It's a mural created in the First Era that foretold of future events... Not much is known of it, but there is a high likelihood of it being the solution to our troubles, or if not that, telling us of the solution."
Surtr hums, "Well, it is called 'Alduin's Wall'..." he looks at the map which notes the locations of various Akavari Temples, one was circled in red around the Reach called Sky Haven Temple. "Do we require a key? There must be a reason why this place was not discovered and looted sooner."
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Esbern shakes his head at Surtr's question, "No. It's written that only the prophesized Dragonborn would be able to open it."
Delphine folds her arms from where she was leaning on the temple, "So, how about it? Let's head there and stop the end of all things."
Surtr just sends a dismissive sniff her way, "You two can stay here and let me deal with it."
"What!? You can't just leave us out of it now! We discovered this place! We should accompany you, as true Blades should!"
Again, the Dragonborn waves her off, "I'd rather go naked than with an old man and a coward at my back. Go play with swords at the nearest brothel, because you're no warrior to me... And the less said about this decrepit archivist the better."
Delphine can only grit her teeth in response to his words, a Blade couldn't argue against the Dragonborn, even if he was entirely incorrect... She hadn't even run away last time either! She'd been knocked out and had a branch jammed into her lung, forcing her to breathe blood as the surviving Stormcloaks carried her away!
Unfortunately for her, Surtr just grabs the map and shoves it into his pack after rolling it up and securing it. "I'll send a Courier for you should I require your aid. Otherwise, stay out of my way." he growls as he steps out.
...
"Well, a fiery disposition suits the Dragonborn..." Esbern sighs, running a nail along the empty table without a clue on what to do now... They could try and restart the Blades now that the Thalmor wasn't hunting them but, it probably wouldn't end well considering Surtr's apparent dislike of them.
"Come on, we're following him whether he likes it or not."
"Ah, but-"
"We're merely protecting the Dragonborn from the shadows. Even if he thinks otherwise."
...
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Surtr marches out of the Blue Palace and down the street but stumbles slightly as someone seemingly ambushes him from the side. He's about to crack their skull when he notices just who it is... "Mother...?" he utters, confused.
Sorli nods, her dirty face and grey hairs providing a stark contrast to last he saw her. She was thin, like someone who hadn't eaten well in weeks or months. "Son! When we heard that you were summoned to Solitude I couldn't help myself from coming to meet you!"
"We...?" he questions, only now looking to the side and spotting his father, Pactur, and his brother, Sigar. Each looked in a similar state to Sorli, weak, dirty, with torn clothes and unhealthy completion... "Did something happen while I was gone? You should be back in the Stonehills managing the mines..."
"You didn't hear? Thane Bryling was killed and all commissions were stopped, all the miners left and we were stuck without gold, contacts... We tried to find aid in Morthal but it was attacked by the Stormcloaks, forcing us to Dragonbridge."
His brother folds his arms antagonistically, "Which was already overpopulated, leaving us with no work... We've been living on the streets while you." he gestures at Surtr's Dragonbone armour and Wuuthrad, "Have been gallivanting around Skyrim, fucking whores and throwing away enough gold to buy the Stonehills a hundred times over."
Surtr tilts his head at his brother's attitude... Had anyone else spoken to him like this he'd have broken their face with a punch, but he supposed he could be lenient considering what they've been through.
Sorli glares at Sirgar, "Don't you speak to him like that, he's been too busy with the dragons to see us, you know that!"
Sirgar seethes, "You're wrong! You heard the bards as well as I did! He'd bedded half of Skyrim and not thought about us at all! He sided with the Stormcloaks who put us on the streets in the first place! How can you just ignore all that!?"
Pactur rests a hand on his shoulder, "With the fate of the world at stake, I think we can be leniant... He's here now isn't he-"
"ONLY AFTER WE TRAVELLED TO FIND HIM OURSELVES! I BET HE'D FORGOTTEN COMPLETELY ABOUT US UNTIL NOW!" Sirgar angrily exclaims.
True enough, Surtr hadn't thought at all about his family ever since he slew his first dragon... It wasn't like he was intentionally ignoring them but, they just didn't factor in his mind... He couldn't even feel guilty about their state as the Imperials had to be taken down, even at the cost of his own family...
"Sirgar, you are out of order! How dar-"
"YOU'RE ONLY TAKING HIS SIDE BECAUSE HE'S THE GODS DAMNED DRAGONBORN!? I'M SORRY FOR NOT MATCHING THAT, BUT I WON'T BOW AND SCRAPE TO GET SOME HANDOUTS FROM HIM!" he spits at Surtr's feet, "He's no family of mine!" he shouts before quickly striding away... Which might've looked better if he wasn't wearing dirty rags.
"Son, I'm..." Pactur trails off as he looks at Surtr.
He shakes his head and lets out a breath, "He's right, I hadn't thought about any of you..." he shoves a hefty sack of gold into Sorli's hands, "I don't know what you expect from me, but I can't give anything but gold until Alduin's dead..." he starts walking after Sirgar, deciding to have a chat with his disgruntled brother.
His parents just watch wide-eyed as he leaves, unsure of what to say or do at his admittance...
"Sirgar, stop." Surtr asks as he finds his brother walking through an alleyway, his tone unintentionally commanding despite his best efforts.
"Piss off, I don't need anything from you."
"Are you still angry that father agreed to send me off while you were stuck at home? Is that it?"
Sirgar stops and turns to face him, "Obviously! You were giving literally everything! You got our gold! You got freedom! You've even got the favour of the gods! You might be able to fool everyone else, but I know that you're the same weak shit that you always were!" he gesticulates at him, "All this armour and shit doesn't mean anything! All of your accomplishments aren't your own!"
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