Snow whirled relentlessly down upon the Throat of the World as it always did, catching in the crevices of the crumbling word wall. It was the gray hour just before dawn, but rather than sleep, the mountaintop's only occupant sat atop his wall, every muscle in his long body stretched taunt as a bowstring.

Paarthurnax stared into the blinding snow, his blue eyes searching for something, anything. The dragon's Thu'um boiled in his throat, straining to be unleashed. He could feel powerful events taking place—not in this world, no, but their shockwaves resonated through his bones all the same.

Then a black shape burst forth high above the mountaintop, leaving behind ripples in the air as it breached the worlds. It fell like a stone, smashing into the Throat of the World and flinging a small shape from its back with the impact.

Alduin the World-Eater bled from many wounds, his life force staining the snow as he struggled upright, the blade of the Dragonborn buried to its hilt between the scales of his neck. Paarthurnax slithered from his perch, glancing briefly at the mortal that lay unmoving in the curve of the crumbling word wall. Unmoving, but breathing. Reassured, the dovah turned back to his brother. For what seemed an eternity, the two dragons regarded one another, each reflecting on the events that had brought them to this point.

"You are afraid," Paarthurnax noted, breaking the silence at last as he studied Alduin with something like pity.

"Of you?" The World-Eater's lips drew back over his teeth in contempt.

"Of death," His brother clarified, but there was no insult in his tone. "You were the greatest among us."

"You should have been at my side." Alduin's thunderous voice was almost sad as he recalled what might have been, millennia ago. He turned his crimson gaze to the mortal that still lay crumpled in the snow, gesturing with one ragged wing. "Dovahkiin this mortal may be, but also dov-ah-kiin. Born Hunter of Dragonkind. Are you so sure that what you did to me will not be repeated? Mortal minds change like the wind, and this one has the mind of both joor and dovah, making the chance of betrayal all the greater. Neh ov joor, but also neh ov dovah, as I know all too well."

Paarthurnax felt a twinge of remorse at the accusing sting in his brother's voice, but he just shook his great head. "The joorre are odd," He admitted, "They think laat and dinok are somehow opposites, and put so much effort into making themselves suffer…but there is grace in their failings. I think you missed that."

"They are doomed." The World-Eater's words were not an arrogant prediction, but a mere statement of fact.

"Yes," Paarthurnax agreed sadly, before looking again at the motionless figure of the Dragonborn in contemplation. "But…a thing is not beautiful because it lasts. Nii los zin koraav joorre brii. It is a privilege to be among them."

"Ambition-Overlord-Cruelty," Blood flecked the snow as Alduin spat each word of Paarthurnax's name in mockery. "How far you have fallen, tahrodiis zeymah."

"Have I, Destroyer-Devour-Master?"

The World-Eater's eyes blazed. He lunged at his brother, and Paarthurnax allowed his Thu'um to surge forth.

"Yol toor shul!"

Joor/joorre = 'Mortal'/'mortals'

Neh ov joor/dovah = 'Never trust (a) mortal/dragon'

Laat = 'life'

Dinok = 'death'

Nii los zin koraav joorre brii = 'It is (an) honor (to) see mortal beauty'

Tahrodiis zeymah = 'Traitorous brother'

Yol toor shul = 'Fire inferno sun,' the Fire Breath shout