06/08/2018: Hi again, guys...! It's now been around four years since I first started writing this story, and I was looking back over it the other day. Needless to say, there are some grammar/spelling mistakes and general continuity errors that I want to revisit and try to smooth over, so I'll be making my way through and (hopefully) improving this story.
With that in mind, you may also find some variations in chapter lengths. This chapter, for example, is now almost twice as long as it was, and thus twice as long as most of the others. Bear with me as I go through them, if you can :)
In the edited chapters, bold letters mean normal speech in the dragon tongue/speech from a dragon, whereas italicised bold words are Shouts
Disclaimer: I only own Ira, the Dragonborn, unfortunately. The rest belong to either Bethesda or Tolkien.
A/N: Right, hello! Just want to say I have no idea where this came from, or why, but I thought 'what the hell?' and threw myself into it. I want to apologise in advance for any swearing (and there is some swearing), but I'll try to keep it mild.
On with the story!
~ Ec1aire
Dragons of the North
Chapter 1:
The return of the dragons to Tamriel had marked the beginning of a new era in the province of Skyrim. At the time, the land had been in political disarray, those loyal to the Empire at war with the Stormcloaks; men and women who had lost faith in their Emperor and who fought for their religious freedom in the wake of the White-Gold Concordat banning the worship of one of the Nine Divines. The war had been about to end – for better or worse – when the dragons had reappeared and thrown the province into further chaos.
Out of the dark had come a source of hope; the Gods had not given up on them, had not condemned them to the tyranny of the dragons. Akatosh, the chief deity of the Nine Divines, had sent to them one final gift in their time of need: The Last Dragonborn.
Ira, a young nord woman, had been given this gift. Though her body was human, her blood and soul were that of a dragon. These traits gifted her with the power to wield the dragons' own form of magic – Shouts – against them.
And that she did. Over many gruelling months she fought the dragons, slaying them one by one until she was forced to face down their leader; Alduin, the World-Eater. Twice she had to defeat him. Once, on top of Skyrim's tallest mountain – the Throat of the World. Then again in the Nordic afterlife.
Once Alduin fell, the dragons largely disappeared.
Through the years, their number continued to drop. Splinter groups of dragons would sometimes attempt to kill the Dragonborn, while others were hunted by those whose homes they had destroyed.
Over five centuries later, as far as anyone knew, there were only three dragons left. Two remained on top of the Throat of the World: Paarthurnax and Odahviing. Both had sworn their allegiance to the Dragonborn, and lived peacefully on the top of the mountain, disturbing no one and thus being left alone. The third lived in the Soul Cairn – a version of the afterlife for those unfortunate enough to have their souls trapped by mages.
Despite the relative peace in Skyrim, Ira still sought out adventure. She would perform bounties for the Jarls, jobs for the Companions… anything that would keep her busy.
It was on one such day that something strange happened. Skyrim was a cold place, but in the southern regions there was a greater chance of nice weather. Ira was wandering through a forest near Falkreath, the sun beating its gentle warmth down on her back, when suddenly everything changed. The sky grew dark, clouds gathered overhead, and then a beam of golden light shot down from the heavens, striking the road in front of her.
Flinching back from the intense heat and light that the beam radiated, Ira couldn't see what had truly happened until it faded away.
In a low crouching position, one hand pressed onto the cobblestone pathway, was a man. He was breathing heavily, his head lowered. His hair was a black so dark that it seemed to absorb the light of the sun as it slowly reappeared. At length, the man stood up, stumbling slightly. His eyes, the colour of burnt amber, suddenly met hers.
Ira was taken about by the potent rage and hatred that was in his eyes. She was sure she had never met this man before, and yet he looked upon her as if she had personally thrown him into the fires of Oblivion.
Wary of the way he was eyeing her, Ira approached slowly, arms raised in a position universally known to mean she meant no harm. Still, his eyes narrowed further, before doing something she didn't expect. Her pupils lengthened and thinned, becoming slitted, like those of a snake, or a…
"Dragon," she murmured, stepping back and resting her hand on the hilt of her blade. She scowled. "Who are you?" she demanded of him.
A sneer crossed his lips. "Zu'u lor hi fund mindrus zey, orin ko daar kopraan, (I thought you would recognise me, even in this body,)" he snarled at her, venom thickly coating his voice.
That voice. It was deep and throaty, and even though centuries had passed since their last meeting, Ira would know it anywhere.
"Alduin," she growled back, tightening her grip on the hilt of her sword. "What in Talos' name are you doing here?" A sense of despair and anger flared within her. Was her hard work all those years ago for nothing?
Alduin's face hardened. "Korah zey, Zu'u los ni het naal poguk. (Believe me, I am not here by choice.)"
Ira snarled at his poor answer. "Fahvos los hi het? (Why are you here?)" she repeated, eyes flashing.
Alduin hid his surprise well, though Ira caught a flicker of it in his eyes. When last they met, Ira had known barely ten words of the dragon language. No doubt her use of it was what caused his surprise. She wondered if Alduin realised how much time had passed since his supposed death – did he know that the years of her life had stretched ever further, her body rendered immortal by her dragon soul? Did he know that she'd had over half a millennium to learn the dragon tongue?
At length, Ira's old nemesis answered her query. "Akatosh forced me to return," he said, transitioning back into the common tongue. "I disobeyed him, and as punishment, he gave me this… pathetic form." He gestured down to his human body, his disgust clear on his face.
"But why here?" Ira insisted, gesturing to the world around her. "Why did you appear before me? Of all the people in this world… why me?"
Once again, his face darkened. "To deliver a message," he answered. "And to… help… you." He squeezed the words out in such a way that gave Ira the impression it was physically painful for him to do so.
Ira slowly released he hold on her sword hilt, though she remained on edge and guarded. "What message?"
Alduin hesitated, before explaining. "For reasons unknown, a fissure has opened up between Nirn and another world – a world by the name of Arda. The fissure lies to the north, over the Sea of Ghosts. Where it comes out, we don't know. But Akatosh received a message from the other world. A plea for someone of your… skill-set."
"And you were ordered to accompany me?" she asked, receiving a curt nod in response. "Why?"
Alduin's lips became a sneer once more. "My Father believed it would act as my redemption."
Ira eyed him warily, still not fully trusting that he would attack her the moment she turned her back. At length, however, she deemed it safe enough to move her attention, and instead turned her eyes skyward. To the north-east, she could see the peak of the Throat of the World, and sent a Shout in that direction. "Od Ah Viing!"
The air crackled and fizzed with the Shout, and Alduin felt his body tremble slightly at the resulting quake. It sickened him to learn this body was not as well built to withstand the effects of Shouts, though Akatosh had told him he could still use them himself.
He was unsurprised to learn that Odahviing was still a puppet of the Dragonborn. He had been a brother to Alduin once, a trusted lieutenant, but those days were gone. He was unsure exactly on how long it had been since his defeat, but he deigned it had not been an insignificant amount of time.
The duo waited in tense silence for Odahviing to arrive, and he did so in only a scant few seconds. Alduin silently looked over his old ally – his wings were torn in more places than they had been, and the air of wisdom around his was much greater than it had been before. The red dragon had aged well, it seemed.
"Drem yol lok, Dovahkiin," Odahviing greeted, barely sparing a glance at his former master. "You summoned me?"
Ira sent a glance back at Alduin, who met her look evenly, though with thinly-veiled disdain. The Dragonborn then turned back to Odahviing. "I'm sorry to ask this of you, old friend, but I need a favour. A big favour."
Odahviing let out a low rumble that originated from deep in his chest. "What kind of favour?"
Ira hesitated. "I need to go beyond the borders of Nirn," she admitted, to the red dragon's obvious surprise. "A gateway between this world and another has apparently opened up over the Sea of Ghosts. I've been summoned to a world by the name of Arda. Can you get me there?"
"Skuld? A gateway, you say?" Odahviing repeated, humming in contemplation. "I have detected no such disturbance in the walls of the world, but I do not doubt that I will feel it when I draw near." He drew himself up to his full height. "Yun lein saran. I will not pass up the opportunity to see a world other than our own," he said at length. "Geh, Dohavkiin, I will take you there, as you ask."
Odahviing then bowed his head, giving Ira the chance to grab his horns and climb up onto his back, her legs gripping onto the scales just above the joints where his wings sprouted from his back. She glanced down at Alduin, who hadn't moved. "Are you coming or not?" she asked, her voice still holding onto its biting edge as she addressed him.
With a grumble, Alduin approached the red dragon and reluctantly accepted the hand up that was offered by the Dragonborn. He found himself perched precariously behind her, and did everything in his power to remain in a position that meant physical contact between them didn't happen – even accidentally.
With a thunderous roar, Odahviing sprung from the ground. He rose up above the trees, before turning due north. Behind her, Ira could hear Alduin muttering to himself under his breath, no doubt envisioning all the wonderful ways he could kill her so that he didn't have to put up with her company (despite them both knowing that wasn't really a viable option for him). With a roll of her eyes, Ira leaned forward over Odahviing's neck, and pushed Alduin's voice from her mind.
It had taken them only a few hours to reach the fissure over the Sea of Ghosts. It was not a physical tear in the world, and Ira could not see it, but as they drifted further and further north, she became aware of a strange feeling in her gut. It hadn't been long after that Odahviing had swung off his original course, no doubt being more finely attuned to the fissure.
The change from Nirn to Arda was rather stark. They had been flying over the blue-grey sea one moment, and then over a snowy mountain range the next. The air was distinctly warmer in this place, wherever they were, and Ira watched the landscapes unfold beneath her as Odahviing flew over them. When it became clear they were approaching a large settlement, Odahviing rose into the air above the layer of clouds, hiding him from view.
Unsure where they were going, but trusting that her friend wasn't just flying aimlessly, Ira settled as comfortably as she could on the dragon's back and tried to find some rest. Her muscles were wearied from being locked in the same position for hours, and though it was not yet night, she had little better to do to pass some time.
By the time she woke, Ira was feeling incredibly stiff. She noticed a second later that there was a weight against her back, and she turned slowly, only to observe that Alduin, too, had succumbed to sleep. His head was pressed up against her, and though she was uncomfortable having her oldest enemy so close, she did not wake or disturb him.
At long last, Odahviing began to descend from the sky. He dove through the clouds and circled above a forest, before finding a clearing large enough for his body and landing in it. The impact caused Alduin to jerk awake, and he flinched back when he noticed where his head had previously been lying.
With a soft groan, Ira lifted her right leg over Odahviing's neck and slid to the ground, Alduin landed softly beside her a moment later. Ira stretched her arms and twisted her back left and right, working out some of the knots that had formed there over the last day, before turning to the dragon behind her.
She smiled and placed a hand on his snout. "Thank you, my friend."
Odahviing bowed his head without a word, sent one last glance at Alduin, and then pushed off from the ground once more. Ira watched him go for a moment, before facing Alduin. The two eyed each other for a long time, neither wanting to be the first to back down, before a thought struck Ira.
"Do you know where we go from here?"
Alduin shook his head. "I don't know where we are," he pointed out. "Akatosh told me the wizard who sent for us knows we are coming, and no doubt Odahviing had my Father guiding him. We will stumble upon him soon enough."
"Or, as it seems the situation it, he'll stumble upon you."
The unfamiliar voice caused Ira to whip her sword from of its scabbard, her arm unwavering as she lifted the blade so that the point was aimed for the stranger's throat. He was an old man, with a long beard and long hair. He wore sweeping grey robes and a pointed hat, and was leaning on a gnarled, wooden staff. Even his eyes seemed to match the colour scheme – a shade of grey that matched his hair, though shone with a hidden mischief that had Ira on edge.
"Who are you?" she demanded of him, noticing that Alduin was also eyeing the man with great distrust. She took a small step forward, placing herself in front of him. Alduin was unarmed, and right now she had no idea if he could fight. If Akatosh truly wanted to give him the chance to redeem himself, then she would have to make sure he would not be harmed.
The old man smiled, leaning more of his weight on his staff. "My name is Gandalf the Grey," he said, voice warm and calm. "Though I am known by many other names in other places, here I am Gandalf, and so that is what you will call me. I am a wizard, and not long ago sent a call far and wide for a skilled dragon hunter." His eyes flickered between the two, before settling back on Ira. "Are you that person?"
After a momentary pause, Ira lowered her blade and then slid it back into its sheath. "I am," she said. "But why would that be necessary?"
Gandalf let out a light chuckle. "Can you not guess, my dear? I am about to start a quest to reclaim a mountain homeland. It was stolen - and is now guarded - by a fire-drake. We need your help to kill it."
Behind her, Alduin swore viciously under his breath. She could understand his reaction; he had been sent on a quest for redemption by Akatosh, and was being forced to not only ally himself with the woman who had defeated him in battle twice, but also potentially to kill his own kin.
Sending a furtive glance his way, Ira turned back and asked the wizard, "What is his name?"
"Smaug."
Both Alduin and Ira looked blankly at him. It was Alduin, this time, who was the first to speak. "Either that is not his true name, or he is very different from the dragons we know."
Ira nodded, catching the wizard's confused expression and offering him an explanation. "Dragons from Nirn have names that consist of three Words of Power." She sighed. "Either way, I suppose it makes no difference. Akatosh himself has taken an interest in this quest of yours." She glanced once more at Alduin, who returned the look with an icy one of his own. Rolling her eyes, she faced Gandalf again. "Since neither of us have a clue where it is we're going, you will have to lead us there."
Smiling amiably, Gandalf nodded. "Of course, my dear. Follow me."
Ira had many questions about the world of Arda, and Gandalf was more than happy to answer them as they walked. Alduin remained deathly silent, trudging moodily behind them and sulking. The other two, it seemed, were more than happy to ignore him.
As they were wandering along a dirt path, Gandalf suddenly stopped mid-sentence, and instead called out, "Ah, Fili, Kili!"
The duo behind him followed his gaze to find two short but stocky men sat on small, furry horses. One was blonde, with many braids and embellishments in his hair and… in his moustache? The other had dark hair, though his was simply pinned back.
"Gandalf!" the blonde greeted cheerfully. "We weren't expecting to see you until tonight." He cocked his head to the side, his eyes shifting to Ira and Alduin. "You have company, I see. Friends of yours?"
Gandalf smiled slyly. "In a way, I suppose," he answered. "They are here to help us on our journey."
The two men exchanged glances, a silent conversation passing between them in only a second or two, before they simultaneously swung out of their saddles. They were very short – barely five feet tall, if that. They were quite unlike anything Ira had ever seen before.
"What are you?" she asked before she could find a way to sate her curiosity less bluntly.
The two men chuckled. "We're dwarves," the brunette answered.
Ira blinked. "Dwarves?" she repeated, looking them over. "You are not how I was told the dwemer are supposed to look." Attention firmly caught, Ira stepped forward and quickly circled the two of them, taking note of their broad shoulders and large hands. They wore good-quality fur coats, designed in much the same way as nordic garments. The brunette had a bow strapped across his back, and a quiver full of arrows, while the blonde had a pair of twin blades at his side. A slight tilt of the head revealed a few more weapons hidden in the folds of the blonde's coat, something which brought a small smirk to Ira's lips. She herself was fond of hiding knives and daggers in her clothes – there were a great number of benefits to being a walking armoury.
"See something you like, lassie?" the brunette asked, a teasing twinkle in his eyes.
Ira rolled her eyes. "I've never come across dwarves before, that's all."
"Hardly surprising," the blonde informed her. "Most of the time we don't talk to anyone but our kinsmen, and we live in deep underground places." He paused. "What was that word you used, though? Dwemer, was it?"
"The dwemer are a race from my home," she told them. "They are known as dwarves to some, though you are clearly not the same kind of dwarves as they were."
The two looked intrigued at the mention of more dwarves. "Where do you come from, my lady?" the blonde asked.
Ira let a smirk tickle her lips again. "Skyrim. Tamriel. Nirn." Their blank expressions caused a bark of laughter to spring from her throat. "I have travelled further than mere distance to get here, Master Dwarves."
"You say they are here to help us?" the brunette asked, directing his question at Gandalf. The old wizard nodded. The brunette frowned. "Did you tell uncle of their presence? You know what he can be like if you don't inform him of changes to the plan before they are implemented."
"Yes, Kili, I told Thorin. Although at first he wasn't over-fond of the idea, he agreed to it eventually." Gandalf leaned on his staff once more. "Even he admitted that we need their help."
"And what are they going to do?" Kili asked curiously.
"They are dragon slayers. They are here to kill Smaug."
When Alduin opened his mouth to object, Ira sent him a sharp look, and he made a show of snapping his mouth again. The dwarves were now looking at Alduin and Ira in interest. "Really? How many dragons have you killed?"
Ira shrugged, smirking again. "Do you really expect me to have been counting? A lot. My home used to be crowded with dragons."
"Used to be?"
"There are only two of them left alive now, as far as everyone knows," Ira explained. "And I have the fortune of being friends with both. They are a danger to no one."
"Well then," Gandalf piped up, straightening his back, "with that settled, I think it's time we were off. Don't want to be late, now, do we?" He spun on his heel and began walking away with the energy of a much younger man. The two dwarves mounted their peculiar mini-horses and followed. Ira and Alduin trailed at the back, keeping completely silent and making sure there was at least a two-foot gap between them.
The fact that they would have to spend a lot of time in the company of one in the future was something they were both painfully aware of, and yet neither was yet ready to drop their guard.
As he walked, Alduin recalled Akatosh's parting words from the moment before he had so unceremoniously been dropped back in Skyrim: "If you leave her without her consent, if you do not return once your task is finished, you will remain in exile for the rest of your life. Any sign of further betrayal will be met with punishment. Remember this. Remember this, and one day you might be welcome back by my side."
Just as the sun was sinking below the horizon, the peculiar group came across the quaint little village. It was quite unlike anything Ira had ever laid eyes on before. The people that milled around were shorter – shorter, even, than the dwarves – but that was not was surprised Ira the most. No, that was the fact that many of the houses were built into hills. Little round doors of varying colours (though most were yellow or orange), and even smaller, round windows. The gardens were all neat and colourful. It was a very peaceful place.
Beside her, Alduin grumbled, rubbing his temple. "All these bright colours are giving me a headache."
Ira rolled her eyes, snapping back at him, "Will you please stop complaining?! You're driving me up the wall with all your grumbling and groaning! I know you're unhappy with this situation – believe me, I'm not exactly dancing on rainbows about it – but there's no need to make us all miserable as well."
When she turned back, she pointedly ignored the startled, curious expressions of their companions. Gandalf was giving her a mysterious smile, but said nothing. With a heaving sigh, Ira pushed past the dwarves and moved to walk at the wizard's side. Alduin, too, had been shocked by the abruptness of her outburst, but felt something of a smug thrill rush through him when he saw her blue eyes flash with her annoyance and morph momentarily into those of a dragon. The sight of the dragon in her soul pleased him to no end, though he couldn't quite figure out why. Still, there was no denying that, behind the feeble body of a human, lay in wait the fury and grandeur of a dragoness.
As the sun finally disappeared completely, Gandalf led them up a small hill. He stopped at the top, facing a house which appeared to be significantly larger than most others. "This is our destination," he said with a smile. "I will wait outside for the rest of the Company to arrive. You four go on ahead."
Fili and Kili exchanged grins, before striding up the path and knocking on the door. Alduin was grateful to see it was not quite as brightly coloured as the others in this village. He trailed behind Ira as she ascended the hill behind the dwarf brothers.
After a few seconds of waiting, the round, green door opened, and one of the small creatures appeared on the other side. He let out a small moan at the sight of them. The two dwarves, however, grinned broadly at him.
"Fili."
"And Kili…"
They bowed low, finishing in unison, "At your service."
Kili popped up from his bow with his smile still firmly in place. "You must be Mister Boggins!"
The little man frowned in annoyance. "Nope, you can't come in! You've come to the wrong house." He attempted to shut the door, but Kili was fast enough to stop him, and used his superior strength to push it back open again.
"What? Has it been cancelled?"
Frowning, Fili piped up, "No one told us."
"Can–?" He shook his head. "No, nothing's been cancalled."
"Well," Kili said, pushing his way into the smial, "that's a relief." Fili followed after him, both of them ignoring Mister Boggins' feeble protests.
Fili barely gave himself the time to look around before he turned and dumped his great many weapons in the little man's unsuspecting arms. "Be careful with these," the blonde warned. "I've just had 'em sharpened."
As Ira and Alduin at last entered the little house, having to duck to pass through the door, they saw Kili looking around curiously. "It's nice, this place," he commented lightly, before turning to scrape some mud off the bottom of his boot on a nearby chest. "Did you do it yourself?"
"Ah, no, it's been in the family for years," came the spluttered response. Indignation quickly took over. "That's my mother's glory box, can you not do that?"
Just as Kili stopped, another dwarf appeared. He was broader at the shoulders than both Kili and Fili, and the black tattoos on his bald head, coupled with the fact that he still had a pair of axes strapped across his back, gave him a rather intimidating appearance. He sent a smile at the two brothers. "Fili, Kili, come on, give us a hand."
Kili grinned, greeting him with a cheerful, "Mister Dwalin!" before he and Fili walked away to help with what looked to be moving a large dining table.
The little man, after dumping their weapons on the ground with a huff, turned to Ira and Alduin at last. Ira noticed then that she was about twice as tall as him, he being no more than three feet tall. Still, in an attempt to calm his nerves, even if only a little, she gave him a kind smile. "Ira, at your service," she said, though since her head was already bowed from the low ceiling height, she left that bit out.
Alduin rolled his eyes. "Niskorah, (Unbelievable,)" he grumbled.
The little man sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Bilbo Baggins," he muttered in reply.
Ira rolled her eyes as there was a moment of silence in response. "That's Alduin, by the way," she told him, throwing her thumb over her shoulder. "Ignore his attitude, if you can. It's been a rough day."
Bilbo, almost seeming relieved by their calmness, told them, "You're welcome to any food you can find, but these blasted dwarves will probably eat me out of house and home within minutes, so I'd get some quickly before it all disappears."
Smiling, Ira clapped him on the shoulder in thanks, before ducking into the next room. Alduin grimaced, before grudgingly following.
