A/N: Hi there. I'm going through my years-old half-done docs and figured I'd post this one. I kind of dig it. It's not done, and I probably won't finish it, but I do like the premise.
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At first, she just did what she was told. No questions asked. The Greybeards, the Blades, the Jarls, whoever, because they needed her to end Alduin and save the world.
That was before she knew better.
The dragons, in times long past, saw the truth in being above those they considered weak. Mortals - man, mer and beast alike - are inferior to the dovah, even down to their very souls. Have you ever tried to soul trap a dragon? There's a reason why it only works for the dovahkiin.
But Paarthurnax betrayed his brother and taught humans the power of the Voice, and thus began the fall of the dovah. She can't discredit the Greybeards, though; their knowledge of the Thu'um is what brought her to her destiny.
It wasn't the one they had planned, however.
She started by learning the dragon language from Paarthurnax, fur fluffed out against the cold as she sat on a chilled rock and drew letters in the snow with her claws. Eventually she didn't even bother returning to High Hrothgar to sleep; the heat underneath the dragon's wing was sufficient, and that was where she spent her nights.
Once she was able to understand every word on the wall that had given her the power of fire and copy it almost immaculately, they began to speak.
On her first try Paarthurnax winced at the crude pronunciation of his language, but remembered not to be critical and gently corrected her. And it was hard; her mouth was even less suited for the dragon tongue than those of the men or mer, but she persevered. And when they finally held a conversation free of mispronunciation (though with a strong accent), she lifted her head and Shouted fire to the sky in triumph. The old dragon himself shared her pride; he hadn't taught the language of the dovah to another since there were still hatchlings to teach.
"This one has heard tell that one can summon a dov by calling his name," she asked casually, turning to the old dragon, "Is this true?"
"Yes. It is a challenge, to call his name to the sky. No dov can resist coming to hear the caller, to test their Thu'um. It can be dangerous to do so—"
But she had already turned, sucked in a breath, and Shouted "ALDUIN!" to the open air.
It was barely a minute before an answering roar shook the very ground beneath her feet. The eldest dragon soared up above their heads, circling the Throat of the World once before hovering before the dovahkiin.
Before he could say a word - to attack or simply to speak – she dropped to her knees in the snow, bowing her head. "Alduin, drogi."
Alduin dropped to the ground, his descent sending a flurry of snow in all directions. "You insult me in using my tongue, dovahkiin. Speak in yours or not at all."
Her fur tingled with fear all the way to the tip of her tail, so she rushed right into it. "This one wishes to serve the firstborn, not the fickle men and mer. If the world must end, so be it."
Alduin's chuckle of pride rumbles through her bones. "So be it, indeed."