Mira didn’t see the Mad God again until after a trip to Sovngarde and the defeat of a particular World-Eater. When she came into her little Whiterun house with the intent to collapse face-first onto her bed and never awaken, he greeted her with a manic grin.
She knew it was foolish to expect she’d never see him again. She knew it was foolish but part of her had hoped...
“Oh, why are you here?”
“I’m here to congratulate you on a job well done, of course. You are now on a very short list of people who have directly prevented the end of the world.”
“Why would you care about the end of the world?”
“I don’t, not really. My Isles will go on even if a dragon were to swallow every soul in the Nords’ afterlife. But there hasn’t been a hero like you in two hundred years. ‘Dragonborn.’ Bit of a fancy title, that. Like ‘Nerevarine.’ But I suppose you don’t pick them. And you aren’t champion of anything but even so, you remind me of someone I-- knew.”
Mira frowned, brows knitting together as she contemplated this moment of strange seriousness. And it really was just a moment. His tone shifted to almost-sane only on the last handful of words.
And... then it was gone, just as suddenly as it had arrived.
“There hasn’t been a Dragonborn in almost two hundred years either, has there? Such a shame. The Septim emperors were always the most interesting. Not always the most stable, of course, but you have one family in charge for so long there’ll always be some like my dear Pelagius. And every so often, along comes a Martin. Now that was a true Septim. Dull as dishwater but I’d still call him good. I should have him over for dinner.”
“Dinner...?” Mira had heard of Martin Septim’s sacrifice, of course. Few and far between were the people who hadn’t, especially when she was younger and the event was still fresh in the minds of enough people.
That was as far as the recognition went, however. And in fact, Mira was dreadfully confused by the rest of the conversation. Unsurprisingly, she supposed. She figured the day Sheogorath started making sense to her more often than not was the day she’d have to worry.
“Never mind that,” the Madgod said and Mira pulled herself out of her thoughts to listen once more. “I came here to congratulate you. So, mortal, how do you feel about your recent accomplishments?”
Mira had to think about that, just for a second. “Tired. Really very tired. Good, though. They’ll be singing about me for a while, I imagine.”
“That they will. Then they’ll forget your name and you’ll be lost to history like all other worthwhile heroes.”
She frowned. “But… but that’s--”
“Oh, your accomplishments will be remembered. Someone stopped the dragon, that won’t be denied. But beyond that? Well, just wait and see.”
Mira didn’t really want to wait for such a time, and really hoped that she’d be a pile of ash in a tomb somewhere before it happened.
“You don’t like the sound of that. I can see it on your face. At least you aren’t likely to live long enough to notice it.” It was like he read her mind, or it would have been had she not been really obvious about what she was thinking.
“Tell me something, would you?” she asked.
“Flesh atronachs are not good with children.”
She blinked. “Not… not what I meant. I meant, answer a question for me?”
Which earned her an expectant look from the Madgod, and surprising silence. She’d take it, she supposed.
Re: 5+1 - Sheogorath and F!Dragonborn [5a/6]
She knew it was foolish to expect she’d never see him again. She knew it was foolish but part of her had hoped...
“Oh, why are you here?”
“I’m here to congratulate you on a job well done, of course. You are now on a very short list of people who have directly prevented the end of the world.”
“Why would you care about the end of the world?”
“I don’t, not really. My Isles will go on even if a dragon were to swallow every soul in the Nords’ afterlife. But there hasn’t been a hero like you in two hundred years. ‘Dragonborn.’ Bit of a fancy title, that. Like ‘Nerevarine.’ But I suppose you don’t pick them. And you aren’t champion of anything but even so, you remind me of someone I-- knew.”
Mira frowned, brows knitting together as she contemplated this moment of strange seriousness. And it really was just a moment. His tone shifted to almost-sane only on the last handful of words.
And... then it was gone, just as suddenly as it had arrived.
“There hasn’t been a Dragonborn in almost two hundred years either, has there? Such a shame. The Septim emperors were always the most interesting. Not always the most stable, of course, but you have one family in charge for so long there’ll always be some like my dear Pelagius. And every so often, along comes a Martin. Now that was a true Septim. Dull as dishwater but I’d still call him good. I should have him over for dinner.”
“Dinner...?” Mira had heard of Martin Septim’s sacrifice, of course. Few and far between were the people who hadn’t, especially when she was younger and the event was still fresh in the minds of enough people.
That was as far as the recognition went, however. And in fact, Mira was dreadfully confused by the rest of the conversation. Unsurprisingly, she supposed. She figured the day Sheogorath started making sense to her more often than not was the day she’d have to worry.
“Never mind that,” the Madgod said and Mira pulled herself out of her thoughts to listen once more. “I came here to congratulate you. So, mortal, how do you feel about your recent accomplishments?”
Mira had to think about that, just for a second. “Tired. Really very tired. Good, though. They’ll be singing about me for a while, I imagine.”
“That they will. Then they’ll forget your name and you’ll be lost to history like all other worthwhile heroes.”
She frowned. “But… but that’s--”
“Oh, your accomplishments will be remembered. Someone stopped the dragon, that won’t be denied. But beyond that? Well, just wait and see.”
Mira didn’t really want to wait for such a time, and really hoped that she’d be a pile of ash in a tomb somewhere before it happened.
“You don’t like the sound of that. I can see it on your face. At least you aren’t likely to live long enough to notice it.” It was like he read her mind, or it would have been had she not been really obvious about what she was thinking.
“Tell me something, would you?” she asked.
“Flesh atronachs are not good with children.”
She blinked. “Not… not what I meant. I meant, answer a question for me?”
Which earned her an expectant look from the Madgod, and surprising silence. She’d take it, she supposed.