Elder Scroll series 1. Chapter 1

The Greybeards were so keen to the Thu'um that they could hear Words from miles away. With much practice, I too had honed what skills of the Dovah I had learned and became more connected to my second kin, so much that Arngeir had begun to think of me as an unsettling presence in High Hrothgar.

"Dovahkiin," He gently bowed to me. I wouldn't have noticed it if the ground hadn't shook when he spoke. I peeked over my book and barely registered the worried look that was plastered to his face. "I would like a word with you when you are free."

I masked my disdain with blankness, placing the ancient book down to give him my eyesight. _"All for naught" _a bitter voice surfaced as he towered over me oblivious that what I was attempting to convey was patience- kindness, even- with my actions_._ "Yes, Arngeir? Something troubles you." I left out how I knew, which only earned me a questioning raise of the brow.

"I've noticed what you've been reading." I blinked; momentarily stunned by the coolness of his voice even as another waft of nervousness flooded my nostrils. If I were not Dovah, I'd think he was here not to scold me, but to compliment me on my work. I would hope for the latter and bet the former was more probable. "I have reason to believe you have become absorbed in the study of the Dovah.. Unhealthily so."

I traced over the slightly pointed canines with my tongue, examining the look on his face while trying to steady a counter to his words. "I fell short in my last encounter with a dragon, which cost me dearly. I must know more of them to defend humankind." I spoke in earnest, only leaving out things like trying to expand my skill and most importantly, the draw my second kin had to me.

"That I understand. But the borderline obsession will not be tolerated. Despite your Dovah blood and soul, you are also a woman. Do not lose your humanity, child."

"I.. I understand. I'm sorry you feel that I am compulsively clinging to my one bit of heritage because I lost everything else. I assure you, I do nothing of the sort."

I grimace to play it off, shrinking deep into my seat to feign shame. A hand nearly hidden by blue-black tassels rubbed my shoulder to comfort with the soft-spoken reassurance, "Hin fen haalvut krongrah."

"Krongrah los munax."

"Onikaan los se osos." A long silence pursues before I am dismissed with only a nod, forbidden to study. I had been thrown back into the wilderness of Skyrim and in search of power once more.

Now atop a snowy mountain far from the Greybeards watchful eye and the safety of Hrothgar, I think silently to myself what Arngeir tried to tell me. Maybe he would prove right.

The blind instinctual rage, sharpened senses and powerful drive of the Dov never came to me subtle- it was all so sudden, and sometimes violently that my soul called me to action. And finally, keener more, the 'mere whispers' Arngeir spoke of were something I could hear- but they weren't whispers, they were beckoning chants in Dragon Tongue from far away. I had done something right in my studies.

There atop mountains the chant became louder and vivid enough to make out the words. I begin to memorize them, feel the grip they held on me, as if compelling me upwards towards something that sang a darker tune which I neglected to hear in my Dovah-like lust for absolute control over every advantage this body would yield. Then the earth trembles at the top step. I merely froze but a second to smell the old dirt beginning to stir before palming my black and crimson Daedric blade, the notches vocally protesting release from its sheathe. I muse at the sight beheld upon the giant rock and ice covered caps of mountains that stretched upwards before cautiously moving towards the center of the clearing.

This was a burial mound, I felt it before it was confirmed by the stirring dirt inside a stone circle. Past the steps was the Word Wall with a treasure chest to the right and a Nordic-style above ground coffin sat not far to the left. Probably a Dragon Priest. I ignored it and continued closer to the mound. I knew the Word Wall would wake the Dragon if it was still alive, I might as well put it at rest now properly. Seeing the grave had given an unusual cold feeling. "Nax do ney joore ahrk dov." With a mournful look I drew my blade and pulled it across my palm. Nirn seemed to swallow the blood in thanks, blessing me with a second of calm before rattling in warning. I ceased the moment and ascend to the object of my desire- The Word Wall. The treasure chest would remain untouched. It was an offering to the Dovah buried here that was not mine to take. That was a trivial thing to me, something that held little meaning or power in bloody battle. The World Wall, on the other hand, was of great importance.

A soothing light began its wash over my flesh, mending the nicks and cuts gathered from my journey upwards and warming the insides, the slice on my hand mending until it no longer exists. It was contentment only this could give, a great pleasure nothing else worldly could bring. The chants were yet muffled cries against my ears, absorbing the power it held and heightening the senses into a euphoria of shades and sounds that joore could not even dream of, nor fathom. There, triumphant I stood and said my praise before descending the icy steps and beginning to leave when I heard the thump of stone hitting ice. I turn while pulling my faithful shield from my back, standing in defense against the Priest I had awoken. Ice swirls around one lifeless hand, the other clutching a golden staff.

As soon as I readied myself, the ward ignited and a volley of three ice spikes were sent hurtling towards me and threatening to break my focus. My arm wavered from the impact but with my feet slightly parted and knees bent, I kept balance. I waited until a pause before slowly closing in on the Dragon Priest, my knuckles white from the death-grip hold on the shield. My throat closed around words and called them to nirn. "Feim zii gron." I watched myself begin to fade into the color of the snow, almost transparent, as I stalked closer- his magic running out as I circled him. I only had one shot. We made a dance of it, me trying to get behind the corpse to strike and him casting spells and dizzying from turning. I paused and eyed him, thinking over my plan before lunging at him with blade drawn. I knocked the staff from his hand with my own and became solid instantly- slicing his hand off. With momentum picked up I spun and swung again- the head flying towards the direction I came.

After retrieving the mask and placing the staff on my back under Spellbreaker, I began my descent only to hear a heartbeat far bigger than mine. Dovah.

The once distant white beast of old was getting close, stretching through the expanses of open sky I wished to one day soar and ripping through the clouds that didn't move from the sheer force of the wind the wings cast off. I would not attack it, not unless provoked. I slid my blade into sheathe but instinctively clutched the pommel, placing my right fist over chest and bowing my head. The beast fluttered down low as if to watch me more closely.

"Dovah salutations from a joore? Nirn is madness indeed. You are the first of your kind to do such, I give you credit there, but it is insulting all the same. Your kind does not deserve to use the greeting reserved for mighty Dov."

"I didn't insult, zeymah." I reply coolly, opening my eyes but leaving my head low.

"Brother? I am nothing of the sort. The ignorance of you!" The beast involuntarily gnashes its teeth with the roar, smelling the air before speaking again. "..Yet you tell truth. I smelt female Dovah from miles away, as it is a rarity among us. I did not expect it to lead to a human. So tell me, why do you trot in the form of a joor? Are you a scout or are you afraid to mate?"

Death, I had realized, was beginning to be quite tangible, perhaps even desired and infinitely easier than recent predicaments. If I were to admit who I was, I would likely have to kill the Dovah, something which I hadn't wanted to ever do again. Especially since this one was being quite kind. If I wanted to lie, I needed to act the part of a dragon. But then I would have to transform into said being (obviously a shout I didn't know) and take flight. My words betrayed my logic, "I am Dovahkiin."

He looks almost warily before giving a snort. "You are a disgrace to your own kind, half-breed. You are to kill Alduin so I will not let you pass. Your honesty serves you, though, and so I will fight fair. No shouts, then. I will give quick painless death with talons."

I give a grim look and tip my head to the sky to show my neck, something signifying trust among kin. "I do not wish you any harm, zeymah. My blood is more important to me than my flesh."

"You are still the Dovahkiin! You play politics with the Jarls, steal the souls of your kin and befriend the inferior, ignoring your blood until it suits you."

"Because I must! And I have never killed my kind unless provoked. What am I to do, storm the Holds and maim the people?"

The beast's nostrils flair as it closes in on me, baring teeth show pearly even against the blue-white scales. "You betray your kind by living in squalor and allowing the land to be ruined by their ignorance as they wage war. You are Dovah first and Joor second. There is no excuse."

The words stung like daggers tearing through bare flesh and twisting, a wound left to fester and be infected before being stabbed again. "I do what I need to survive. I am but one person."

"You are nivahriin."

"Zu'u onik."

"Talk is trivial." The dragon adopts a more guttural tone, his eyes flaring in contempt as he stands once more. "Draw your blade, Dragonborn. Let us do battle."

"If there is no way to persuade you, I have no choice." The Daedric blade no longer protests it's freedom, as if knowing what is to happen. It has become intrinsic. A deep exhale with woeful eyes and into position- invigorated by the Word Wall still but sadness suffuses. "A name, brother."

"Faasnudoviir."

Without another word the Dovah lashes out with it's tail as the wings sprawl out to compensate a shift in weight, shadowing the ice-hardened ground. I outmaneuver all but the last and fiercest strike- sending me sliding backwards towards the wall with barely enough time to steel myself for impact. Less than a groan escapes gritted teeth that no longer chatter from the cold like they did years ago, my flesh now durable and withstanding to all but the heavy hits, no longer bruising skin over small falls. "Gather yourself, joor briinah."

The creature did not lie when he said a fair fight. I exhale slowly to ease the tension building in the shoulders, the hot coiled stomach and burning back. My jaw tightens and chest rises, pouncing from the wall like a Sabre cat and jabbing out the pommel of my blade before meeting steel on scales when the beast falters, giving time to strike out and slice the semi-soft abdomen. He roars and the ground shakes in protest, teeth clench as great jaws snap at me in bale. The claws snatch me in my stupor of disorientation, lifting me high and baring teeth at his triumph. No matter how much I pry the grip stays tight around my waist, threatening to break bones, Spellbreaker being bent and formed to my back. Then, a shudder as the Dovah presses the other free hand's talons to my bare throat. "Death will be swift, young one. I free you from this treacherous body."

Slight worry and another breath, trying to steady the sword in my hand only draws attention and he disarms it with strong grip around my wrist. "The will to live is a powerful thing." I make only a hoarse groan as I loosen my hand just enough to form a spell, sending the blade whirling back towards my hand. Another breath, it flies and hits its mark, making the claws loosen as the beast tries to grab the steel buried to the hilt in its chest. I form another attack quickly, fire blazing from my palm and close enough to my own skin to create uncomfortable heat even in the unforgivable cold. It stumbles and I fidget free- grabbing my sword from the warm body and pushing off of it. I get little air before smacking the ground. The breath being knocked out of me doesn't stop me from leaning up on my elbows to watch the dragon begin a slide down the slope.

"I will not fail!" Just before the dragon had gone down, it grabbed me by the leg and pulled me down the jagged mountain.

**Hin fen haalvut krongrah= You will touch victory.

**Krongrah los munax= Victory is cruel.

**Onikaan los se osos= Wisdom is of the same.

**Nax do ney joore ahrk dov. Drem, fron = Cruelty of both mortals and Dragonkind. Peace, kin.

**Zeymah= Brother

**Nivahriin= Cowardly

**Zu'u onik= I am wise.

**Faasnudoviir= Fearless of Dying

**Briinah= Sister


	2. Chapter 2

My chest caves against an overbearing weight as the darkness saunters away. A small raspy breath, then helplessly trying to fill empty lungs again. Suffocation. Pain envelopes me before a dulling of all senses, then I'm absolutely numb. Through the black smoke, a presence watches and reciprocates the feeling of loss quietly. A flame inside is not yet extinguished and thuds in the chest I thought was no longer whole. "Fate", the silent world speaks, echoes in the ancient and powerful tongue of the Dov. Beautiful nonexistence, I cease to be for only a second more. Then ripped violently from peaceful slumber, back to ice-hardened ground dented by my body.

I open my eyes gasping for breath, energy surging through my veins once in realization I was still alive. Everything that has happened eludes me. My vision comes back slowly and it's hard to focus. Pressure is felt on my body with each exhale. The bones of a dragon lay whole on top of me, no longer warm from the fire. I attempt to slide away from beneath only to feel a sharp pain and a twisting inside my gut- the unnatural pain of cracked ribs. "By Sithis.."

It was futile to wriggle around, for that would only bring insufferable agony. The words fall on silence, my eyes beginning to get hazy. With a feral growl I reach up and grip the rib cage, pushing it up with weak arms that tremble from exertion. I can't maintain strength long enough to lift it, hissing when my arms become like noodles and the dragon falls again on top of me, the sharp sound of snapping in my ears followed by maddening pain in my shoulder. Being crushed almost knocks me back into the Void and I let out muffled cries against my hand, the other clutching grains of snow that melt through the black fabric hand-wraps. I knew staying would make me easy prey for animals, but consciousness was fleeting and slumber so very desirable.

I woke again at dusk. The whispers of the trees are violent and send chills down my spine, the twigs protesting the whips of wind and making a hum as breeze throws itself past the wood. The snow beneath me had long since turned to water and evaporated under the heat of my body, what little that seeped through the armor made my skin cling to its coverings. Spellbreaker was molded to the arch of my back and gave support, my eyes still sticky with sleep. I groaned under the weight. Popping my shoulder back into place had made me pass out before I could move from underneath the hundred pounds on top of me.

I took a breath and felt the dryness of my throat- craving some sort of sustenance. My lips crack with a yawn before forcing myself to tend to the object smothering me. Every ounce of my being fought against such early exertion, muscles spasm in protest of the weight they hold. "Morah, hio mey." I mutter and clench my jaw shut, my eyelids squeezing just as tightly as I push upwards. The sudden freedom makes me gasp, lifting higher and higher until I'm able to scoot out from underneath the skeleton.

The free flow of oxygen to my lungs is so fast that I choked on the air. I take a moment to lay on the ground before turning over. On hands and knees I grasp at the snow in a fit of coughing, ripping my hood off violently. Once I was down to only quiet panting I raised slowly to examine my surroundings, wobbling from the numbness in my legs. I had half a mind to call to Lachance but decided against it- knowing it was bad enough Sithis had witnessed the scene that led me down a cliff and under a giant beast. The tundra gave no clue as to where I was literally, but I knew I was still close to Shearpoint, and in turn, close to Whiterun. I braced myself to stand but nearly tripped on the way up.

The noise of snow crunching beneath feet made me freeze. I went to grab my blade only to find it gone. With the sudden feeling of nakedness I step back until my heel hit bone, then turn away from the woodland area to survey the scene and try and find my sword. "Glad you left, eh?.." I whispered to myself, a mirthless smile adorning my paling face as I kicked around at the half melted snow, my hands shaking. The sound of trained breathing became coherent and the steps became quieter. I reached into my boot and grabbed my lucky (and rusted) dagger before uttering a spell under my breath- my left hand flowering with flames and warming me. The blade glistened from the sparks of heat and the moons gave birth to light that cast shadows between the tree branches. The movement stopped and I let the spell die on my fingertips, crouching down and heading towards the tree line where I soon heard a heartbeat not far away.

As soon as a shift in placement was heard on the other side of the tree I hid behind it to peek around the trunk. I saw a shadow in resemblance to a human man taller than I, stalking his way towards where I had been not moments ago. Silently I shimmied my way around and reached forth to pull my arm around his neck- placing the tip of the dagger to the artery. "Don't move."

His hands rose in surrender despite my demand and I pushed the blade closer- leaning down to maintain grip and pulling him to my level until his hair touched my face. I took in another breath, trying to steady myself. I should have just went for the kill but something about this man not outright attacking made me think it was an assassin or worse. On my second inhale I realized I held something strange. My senses were no longer as frayed as when I had awoken and the smell that drifted into my nose made the hair on my neck bristle, followed by a maelstrom of confusion. That scent was distinct and could not be mistaken. Something that had lain dormant inside me until I was faced with one of my kind was ignited again. Pulse raged in my ears. "Who are you?" I kept my voice low to a whisper and heard the measured breath.

"You've been sharp thus far. You tell me." Came the near velvet voice in response that sounded as if it was right against my ear, unaffected by the threats and without fear. My hands shook to the point where I was gripping my weapon for dear life. Fingertips became numb and the knuckles whitened. The voice was as familiar as the scent and nearly addled me to the point of shutdown. Remembrance I could not put a finger on flooded my system. I dropped my offensive pose as if someone had snatched away my wits and watched the man turn to me. Golden eyes against a pale complexion were all that shown throughout the darkness, as if a recently kindled fire was placed inside them. Even in the night I could find speckles of red and bright yellow glowing beautifully. My mouth grew dryer and the dagger fell to the ground with a distinct thud- hands clasping over my mouth in horror.

**Morah, hio mey= Focus, you fool


	3. Chapter 3

"My name." A ghost of a smile hung before his jaws snapped shut like a beast baring teeth to prey before snatching it in it's maw. If not for the situation I may have mused on how a knife could be sharpened on the high cheekbones that became visible with the step he took forward. Our toes touched and I nearly staggered- using what little strength I could muster to stay a step ahead of him as he stalked toward me. I kept my hands over my mouth and backed up until the wood slapped against my back and scraped my armor. He leans over me, blackened hair dropping in front of his sight when his head tips down and a gauntlet comes to rest above me on the trunk- those eyes of pure fire meeting me. "Tell me."

"No, you-"

"You will tell me." He demands again and scrapes fingers across the wood- watching the pieces blow away in the breeze and stick in my hair from the snow before tracing over my cheek, leaving a welt in it's wake. I keep his gaze from me, trying desperately to find a noise I could mentally investigate that would keep my mind at bay until a second hand snatched my hair and he breathes into it. "Your scent contradicts your body."

"You are not.." My words drift and the pit of my stomach coils into a knot from the presence before me. My knees nearly buckle and send my flying to the ground. I jerk when his hand moves and I press myself against the tree in attempt to keep him away.

"And yet here I am." The reply to my half-finished sentence was almost as cheerful as the new grip on my chin was bruising and I wish my hands would have never dropped. I was trying to figure out if it was intentional or just the heavy gauntlets on sensitive skin before I'm looking right into the fire again and being scorched. "I just want you to admit that I am who you think." I close my eyes only to have my lids burn from his stare.

"Ah, Dragonborn. You'd think it impossible to encase the soul of a Dovah in such a small and fragile body.. Yet here we are." His voice is dripping with unknown demands as he shows the perfectly white teeth lining his mouth in a smirk, fangs on both the top and bottom canines. "You would also think it impossible to survive so many battles but instead of cowering like the rest of your kind you stand victorious like a true Dovah. Yes, right here you are." From anyone else that would have been a complement but from him I disregarded it as an off-handed jab.

"You-"

"Now we're getting somewhere. Who am I?" I knew it was him, despite how impossible it was that scales were now flesh, horns now hair and black wings mysteriously absent. I was going to die or save the world tonight. "I'm not here for what you think I am. I'd be a fool to fight you in this form."

I opened my mouth to speak and felt my throat closing from lack of drink. "Alduin."

"Good, good, now I have something to show you. May I?" Alduin's face brightened instantly in a grin that sent chills up my spine. Once he realized my breathlessness, he pitied me. "Fine." Then the pressure was gone from my face and something hit the ground. I had opened my eyes just in time to see a now bare hand press to my cheek, warm and human. His eyes focused on my own and my legs wobbled. I had to force myself awake.

"Don't fight it." I only growled in response and ripped at the tree until I couldn't keep myself up. Alduin's arm wrapped around me before I could fall- never breaking concentration or wavering even as I got heavy and wilted like a Deathbell. "Close your eyes."

"I will never-"

"I will not hurt you. Close your eyes, Dragonborn." It took everything I had left to keep my hand wrapped around his arm, either for support or to feel like I had some control. And the world shook, words died on my lips and slumber prevailed once more. "You need to see."


	4. Chapter 4

It felt strange to hold the human woman in his arms and knowing who it was only made him more uneasy. It was still tolerable, though, because he certainly was not going to let her head crack open on the hard snow, especially since if she died all his troubles would be for naught. When she had finally admitted who he was (without even ensnaring her, to his shock) he was beyond relieved. The argument had almost vexed him to the point of knocking her out and leaving- letting her believe all that happened was a hallucination. Yes, that would have been hilarious to watch.

He was thinking about relinquishing her to the ground but decided it was best to have some sort of upper hand when she awoke. Now she was subject to his scrutinizing gaze, basking in the moonlight and hidden from prying eyes by heavy snowfall.

Despite her taut jaw and shoulder-length hair, she was very feminine looking, especially in facial features. Her lips were a rosy red and the high cheek bones much like his own but a light pink. The Dragonborn's black eyebrows stood out strong against the pale porcelain skin and arched up as they feathered out, giving her a permanent expression of surprise. She had a small nose, blood smeared over the bridge of it and meeting the cheek like war paint. Alduin doubted that the tiny thing had the capacity to smell like a dragon. Black ink lined of her long lashes, casting shadows on her cheeks. When the second moon moved he saw the three-clawed scar on the side of her face the blood ended. She hadn't tried to heal it or fuss about it from what he could tell. Interesting.

The Dragonborn was not what he thought would be. This one was definitely not male, despite the muscle on her that seemed wrong with her lithe body. The strange armor fit tightly to her figure even as her waist tapered and hips widened. He could feel the enchantments on the white dragon hide, under her chest started rows ebony made to look like scales that came down to the start of her matching greaves. Someone had put a great deal of passion into making this armor. He honestly didn't blame her for using skin of a Dov- it was possibly the strongest material to make armor out of. Some parts of the design reminded him of his Dragon Priests. That thought sent a cold chill through his body and his grip tightened on her shoulder unintentionally.

Every time Alduin thought she would do one thing she did the exact opposite, proving time and time again the Prophecy had large holes in it (holes that could be exploited, he noted). For one, she tried to spare every dragon she could. After he got wind that she had traveled to Cloud Ruler Temple, he had never heard of her with the Blades again. Each time they encountered one another, something had changed drastically.

He remembered watching from mountaintop as the Dragonborn had sheathed her blade and greeted Faasnudoviir like Alduin's lieutenants would when approaching. What came next was so shocking he had to take flight to keep from tumbling downwards. After his remark in Kynesgrove she took to studying the language of Dov and was fluent.

Alduin was not a fool and knew what soft spots she had. Dragons were the only thing that made her swallow hard, though. He would take advantage of the opportunity to suit his needs, and possibly her needs, as well. But now he would close his eyes with the help of a spell and return to where he felt like himself, and she would go with him to see and live the life he wanted back.

* * *

It was more beautiful than the first time I saw Skyrim. The grass was greener than I had ever seen it and the twin moons hung right above with stars surrounding them in clusters, illuminating the patches of flowers and reflecting in the river. I could make out each constellation from where I stood on what I realized was some sort of old stone balcony that overlooked great expanses of lush land. The designs were similar to Nordic but different. I touched the carving and felt electricity seep into my fingertips and through my skin, giving energy and clarity. Voices were heard from behind and echoed. I hesitantly turn away from the architecture to see three figures off in the distance standing together. The tallest donned all black and was running to the edge of the opposite balcony and feigning the jump, his strands of pure midnight flowing backwards like wildfire. The laughter I heard was from the one to the side of him with blindingly pale hair that was nearly identical to the locks of the old man who stood beside them furious.

"No patience, the whole lot of you!" The eldest growled at him and slapped the back of the blonde's head. I couldn't help but snicker when he made a shrill noise that was reserved for little girls. The other laughed this time and sat down with his legs hanging over the edge, looking back when he heard the noise I couldn't suppress. "You two calm yourselves! She will be here in a moment. Revaksil! Hurry! Your brothers are acting like fools!"

And then stark realization that made me pause. It was almost as if something in my head snapped and gave way to memories I never had. Before I could logically deny the accusation the fight was lost. "By the Gods, I'm walking! Be there in a second."

**Revaksil= Sacred soul


	5. Chapter 5

I approached Vahzahrein carefully. The last thing I wanted was to to make the man more enraged. "Revaksil." The anxiety on his face dissipated and he practically beamed, the skin wrinkling around the corners of his eyes, probably relieved that I was there to keep the boys in line. I reciprocated by walking closer and pressing my face to his in a light nuzzle that tickled the delicate skin of my nose.

"Where's mine?" I heard the happiness in his voice, turning to the towering figure that was Kruziiksil. Shining white locks of hair blend with streaks of silver and stream down his back in a loose tie, his bangs hanging defiantly in front of striking icy eyes. "I'm bound to get jealous without." I smiled wide and open my arms, his pearly teeth showing in a giant grin under the moonlight. I'm left wincing under the pressure of his grip around my arms as he gives a singular brush against my cheek before drawing back.

Pure golden eyes outlined by coal-colored lashes fixated on me like a fire would a moth. A mass of near purple black hair flew across his sculpted face and breezed back to reveal thin lips upturned in a brilliant smile. "Good evening, Reva."

"Vulsil." I let go of a breath I didn't know I was holding when he gestured me forward. He took long strides and met me in the middle, letting his arms snake their way around my waist to rest on my hips as I placed my forehead to his.

"Did you sleep well, mal brii?"

"The nightmares have gotten better if that's what you're asking. I managed to catch a few hours." I felt heat rise in my cheeks when I noticed his eyes were still open and locked on mine. Vulsil's nose pressed to mine gently and a large hand glides across my back in comfort. "What about you?"

"Still the same. I don't know if the nightmares will ever go away." To this he slouches and he measures out a sigh. 

"If mine are going away, so will yours." I ran my hand through his hair to pull it away from his face, leaving a gentle kiss on snow white skin. His features brighten visibly and a crooked smile adorns his lips in silent thanks. He seems almost hesitant to he pull away to let the Elder know we can begin.

"I'm sorry we're starting so late tonight. It seems as though winter is coming much sooner than we thought. Everyone was hesitant to wake and the breeze carries a bitter chill. If you would like, sit down and get comfortable. I've taken to making us drinks to warm the insides since we've yet to adapt to the new bodies. It will come in time but for now," Vahzah opens the satchel that was belted to his robes to reveal 3 vials of obsidian colored liquid swirled with crimson, "these will help bring warmth, comfort and a state of clarity perfect for learning."

Kruziik was first to drink, giving a sigh before looking back with a nod as if to let us know it was safe. I hesitantly tip the vial back and the liquid spreads over my tongue quickly despite the thickness. It tasted somewhat sweet with a hint of iron that left a coat in my mouth. "When will it start working?" I pocket the empty container and lick the substance from my lips- trying desperately to will the cold away.

"It should start working in a few minutes. These bodies do not absorb magic the way a dragons does."

**Kruziiksil: Ancient Soul

**Revaksil: Sacred Soul

**Rosevus: Balance of Nirn

**Vulsil: Dark Soul


	6. Chapter 6

Alduin was not surprised to wake up with arms that lacked a certain Dov. His legs were crossed, which throughout the course of the night had become increasingly numb since his lap had served the young Halfling as a nest for all of her that would fit there. Her scent filled Alduin's nose and hung around him like thick smoke— so present and distinct that he wondered subconsciously that if he were to reach his hand out, he would be able to touch it. He stifles a yawn and runs a hand through his hair which had become soaked and sticky from snowfall, hoping somehow that he'd manage to the brush the tangled mess into submission. Appearance was of great importance to any Dovah.

After much rubbing, the sleepiness was gone from his eyes and he had a chance to look around. It was almost as if she had evaporated. If Alduin hadn't just woken up he probably would have been fuming from the eyes and snorting like a wild beast at the Dragonborn's disappearance. He was too tired to even bother calling for her and instead produced a low groan of displeasure. Then once the tingling had left his legs, he stood, and upon doing so spotted the trail she hadn't even tried to cover.

Alduin stood carefully and the freshly fallen snow crushed beneath his feet as he marched. The sun began to rise and the fog grew solid, making it hard to see. The tracks she left behind were now almost invisible. Luckily in human form he still retained the senses of a dragon— following her scent until her heartbeat was heard.

The Dragonborn huffs out a breath and lets her head fall backwards against the tree, her fingers run idly over one another with her knees pulled up to her chest. "You're still here, I see." Alduin stands in front of her with his hands behind his back and head bowed, eyes narrowed at the woman before him. She doesn't even look or flinch, instead just staring forward and letting her lips go numb from lack of breath. "Dragonborn."

She takes a deep shaky breath and he watches the ice pour from between her lips like smoke. "No." She replies to nothing and closes her eyes.

"You saw it." Alduin sat in front of her, one leg stretched out and the other rose. He tips his head and rests it on his arm. The Dragonborn blinked and tried desperately to will away the stinging in her eyes when he caught her gaze. She thought his eyes suited him; they were like a bleeding fire that never extinguished. That didn't mean she enjoyed the constantly taunting presence of them. She squeezed her eyes shut again to focus long enough on a different heat, one which sprouted from her fingertips and began a wild dance around her sitting form to keep the chill away. "I know you did."

"No."

Alduin knew exactly what no meant; it was a denial. A Dovah stripped of all it ever was and should be would deny until death. He knew she mourned the absence of wings and the bonding of family that ignores blood, both of which had been given to her and taken away within a fortnight, both of which had been taken from him as of recent. Self-inflicted or not, he missed everything. That was common ground now, some way they could relate and a way for him to gain leverage. "How does it feel to be a true Dov?"

The woman lifts her head and through the fire he can still see the blue tinted orbs of ice staring intensely at him rimmed with midnight. "Free." A smile ghosted his face at her faint whisper, knowing just how extensive the meaning was to just this one word.

"Now what?"

"The same I've always felt; caged and utterly lost."

To this he said nothing. The truth she spoke had actually made him shut up. Alduin closed his eyes and took a breath, in through the small human nose; smelling the same things he would if he was winged, out again through delicate lips that were almost blue from the cold. His breathing was shakier than it should have been and his fingers were tingling without the heavy gauntlets. Before Alduin could open his eyes again he heard the sound of a roaring flame. He wanted to raise an eyebrow but he was just too damn cold without scales. Her palm faced the sky and her first finger pointed at him, the rest loosely folded. "Come then, take it." The Dragonborn impatiently reached further, allowing his hand to grip onto her fingers and the fire to spread safely to the World-Eater. He could barely believe it and squinted at her.

"Why?"

_Because I'm too ambitious for my own good_, she thought,his look of sincere confusion making her sigh. "You looked cold."

"You're a very strange creature." Alduin smirked, letting a chuckle leave his parted lips in the restrained form of a whisper. It was the closest thing the woman would ever get to a thanks.

"As are you." She tips her head and black hair breezes back en mass. That glint of curiosity in her eyes made the corners of his lips turn up even further. "I ask you the same; why?"

Then the smirk vanished and he contemplated pulling his hand away, the only reason he left it there was because she provided him with warmth he so desperately needed. Oh, sweet it would be to wrap his fingers around her perfect neck and squeeze until she was blue. "Every Dov should know their name, Reva."


End file.

Elder Scroll series, Fantasy, Romance