Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Bethesda Studios and I own nothing at all except for the OC and plot. There is no profit made at all, really.

Summary: Because there was a deeper, darker version of Dragonrend… Now Alduin must learn to live again, not as a devourer of worlds, but as a man.

Genre: Adventure/Humour

A/N: Well, it's gone and happened again, in spite of a lengthy hiccup. And since I've finished it early, here is the chapter. As requested, more from Alduin's POV this time and some Shadowmere-Alduin antagonism, as suggested. Once again, thank you for sharing your comments with me! They make my heart beat faster (cue Matt Nathanson).

DRAGONREND

IV.

Leontius scowled at me as he pressed a fresh piece of beef to his eye. At least it wasn't dripping blood. Still, it was a queer sight and that, I decided, proved conclusively that Brynjolf had lied to me when he told me that before things got better, they got worse.

The first time was when he'd decided I needed archery lessons. When I failed to hit any of the straw targets and nearly killed half the Guild with laughter, he decided that perhaps some target practice outside would make a difference. Eventually we progressed from wolves to sabre cats and very swiftly on to much larger game, such as mammoths, because there weren't any animals larger than those. Except for dragons, which Brynjolf understandably wished to avoid. "Chin up, lass. It always gets worse before it gets better." He stopped saying that by the time I drew my fifth arrow on the same mammoth. The hulking tasked goliath didn't bother to cease cropping the grass, secure in the knowledge that the arrows stuck in the ground, rocks and floating down the stream from it meant one thing: the hunter was a hopeless shot and thus, there was nothing to fear. "Not a word about being the Dragonborn," I threatened him as I stomped past and dumped my Nightingale bow into his waiting hands. After that, the only things we practiced with were knives and swords.

"I could heal it," I offered almost sheepishly from the pillar I was trying to blend into.

"No thank you," Leontius said curtly, still nursing his eye with the raw hunk of meat.

"How about a potion?"

"Leave it be."

It was official. If he hadn't hated me then, he certainly did now. And it was all Alduin's fault. Alduin who was currently unbathed, still dressed and probably gloating behind the wooden door. Alduin who had apparently thrashed like a man allergic to water and socked Leontius a good one to the eye when the latter had tried to undress him.

"Maybe some compensation…" I looked hopefully at Eydis. Leontius opened his mouth, possibly to impale me with some very choice words, but a look from her silenced him. "Since your eye might be swollen for some days and it might impede the efficiency with which you carry out your usual tasks." His good eye glared at me. "Which of course is all my fault," I hurried on hastily, cringing internally at taking the blame for that spoiled, good-for-nothing Dovah. "Maybe five hundred septims?" When all else failed, bribery always came in handy.

Skuli's mouth dropped open but the boy showed admirable restraint. Eydis looked almost embarrassed. Trust Leontius to throw a spanner in the works. "Not if you expect me to try this again."

I wished I had worn my masked cowl; I would have gnashed my teeth in frustration. "Let me talk to him. I'll make him see reason." Even if I had to shove it through his thick skull with both my hands. "Please. In spite of what you may think, I am not…" I groped around for a word and found one, "familiar at all with his person and it is not appropriate for me to assist him in such chores." To drive home the point, I promptly blushed and bit my lip, looking at the ground and scuffing my foot on it. If one whiff of this conversation got out, Nazir would be appealing to the Night Mother to fire me as the Listener. As for the thieves, this would probably achieve what my botched attempt at archery lessons did not.

However, affecting maidenly modesty worked on the uptight Imperial, as I suspected it would. "Very well, but only if he promises to cooperate."

"Thank you," I gushed while trying not to lay it on too thickly. "I'll have a word with him right now." A word and then some, I thought grimly as I stalked into the room, slammed the door and eyeballed a very smug Alduin who was currently ensconced on the bed, apparently reading. Next to the basin and two filled buckets lay an overturned one lying in a large puddle on the floor. "You know, we hold our books the other side up."

He gave me a haughty glare, somehow managing to look down his nose at me although he was seated and I was the one standing up. Maybe that came with having legions of dragons and their priests kowtowing before him daily. But that was then and this was now and the sooner he learnt it, the better.

"You wanted me to bathe you, yes?" I asked, my voice deceptively calm.

"I said that." He still looked smug, but the way he shifted his head slightly indicated some degree of caution was blossoming. Proud but not stupid. I would have to remember that.

"Okay." Nodding, I went to the cupboard, took out a coil of rope that I had stashed there the night before, just in case I needed to restrain him, and looped it over my shoulder. "Let's go then."

By now, those amber eyes were snapping with alarm. "Where to?"

I gave him the smile that Babette said she found a little creepy. If it affected a three hundred-year-old vampire assassin that way, suffice to say that it had the desired effect on a dragon who was all too aware of his current vulnerable state. "Why, the river of course." As I spoke, I moved towards him. "It's just down the path from the inn and at a certain point, the current is relatively strong. Don't worry; I'll tie one end of this rope around you." I flicked it hard against his bare chest, leaving a red welt. "I should be able to reel you in once I think the water has flushed you clean." Leaning down, I pushed his shoulder hard and he fell back against the headboard as I loomed over him. "Just so you know, I'm fanatical about cleanliness. So I might decide that it could take hours." That last part came out as a hiss as I gave vent to my frustrations and for one scant second, the dragon inside wakened before I shoved it down.

Alduin looked outraged and at the same time, helpless. It was almost comical. "You have a choice." I drew back, straightening up. "Me or Leontius?"

Long seconds passed and for a moment I actually thought he would choose me. "Leontius," he growled, unable to look me in the eye. Fair skin flushed red and in that moment, the knowledge that Alduin was ashamed startled me. So it wasn't simply a perverse desire to torture me that was motivating him.

"This isn't about anyone seeing you as weak. Those people out there think you are the victim of a vicious robbery and I told them you were badly injured. It's natural to help others, even if you haven't experienced it before. Besides, you can't expect me to do such things for you. We're not even sharing a bed." Later I would wonder where in Oblivion that came from.

He frowned a little and I could see him thinking, almost. "That is why you used the chair?"

This was such a strange conversation to be having. I'd sometimes imagined what facing Alduin would be like. He would threaten to savage me and I would do so likewise and at the end of it all, one of us would have spoken truthfully. Explaining this to him however… "I don't mean it just literally. Sharing a bed means relations." His frown deepened. "Intimate relations," I clarified, hoping that would help. Apparently it did not. Now he looked at me as though I was spouting rubbish. "It means we're mating," I snapped.

His eyes widened in shock and he drew back, looking suitably horrified.

"The feeling is mutual," I assured him drily. "Remember, victim of a vicious robbery alright? You aren't supposed to demolish Leontius. Think about it as good acting. You must fit the part."

Flattery certainly won't hurt that one, I thought, noting that he looked slightly mollified. Opening the door, I cheerfully announced, "He's all yours."

The days—he had lost count of them-had settled into a predictable routine. Each morning, he would rise to find the Dragonborn half-curled in her chair, head pillowed in her arms which were folded on the table. She would wake up a moment later, as though she sensed him, and would proceed to grumble under her breath as she worked the cricks out of her arms, neck and legs. Since he enjoyed her discomfort, he saw no good reason to tell her that he did not intend murder and mayhem the moment she started sleeping in a different room.

After that, they would breakfast together and while she still wouldn't let him use a knife, she would cut his meat and bread. At least he hardly made a mess now and although it was absurd to feel pride over such a trivial matter, he did. The mornings were spent exercising, as she termed it. He learnt to walk without her aid and the instant he showed himself capable enough, she loaned him to Leontius as an assistant. "It will help improve your general dexterity," she explained when he had refused to carry and stack the cut wooden logs. "You are a man now and men, real ones, do not let women pay their rent and room without doing something in return."

The Dragonborn had basically accused him of living off her, so what was any self-respecting Dovah to do? In the past he had pillaged and plundered for wealth but he had never gotten anyone to do it for him. In the end he had grudgingly agreed, if only to stop her from going on and on about it.

He still spent several hours sleeping in the afternoons but Alduin realised these were lessening. He took that as a sign that he was acclimatising to this body. At night, when he could not sleep, he quietly practiced speaking, determined to master the human tongue. The woman, Eydis and her son, had started asking questions and he had used the blow to his head to excuse his apparent lack of memory and therefore, the lack of answers. "No wonder Freyja has taken you under her wing," Eydis nodded sympathetically. "Don't worry Aldin. You won't find a better protector in all of Skyrim."

He could have argued with that, but discretion bade him hold his tongue. Besides, hearing that mangled version of his name took some getting used to.

Sometimes he would watch her outside the inn. She usually went down to the riverside to practice with her sword, sometimes both of them. Like her shadow, that huge unnatural black stallion was always present. Once, Alduin had thought of going closer and had started down the path. But the stallion had bared his teeth and pawed the ground in such a threatening manner that he had changed his mind. The Dragonborn too had stopped in mid-stroke, looking at him as though he was about to run off into the wild.

She was good, he thought as he watched her twirl and slash at imaginary enemies. Not the best he had seen, and Alduin had conquered legends amongst men, but good enough to be a threat. And when coupled with her ability to use the Thu'um…

Apart from the need to study his foe, for he refused to think of her in any other terms, it was the sight of the world beyond the confines of the four walls that drew him out. Everything looked so much larger and for the first time in his life, he felt tiny, insignificant. From atop the slope he could see where the river gathered force, its waters churned white, frothing like a powerful beast as it dashed itself against treacherous rocks. He had never truly noticed that about rivers. Further away lay the mountains. Those great peaks had once been nothing more than a perch, a rest for him, a place from which to look down over the land that, by right of power and might, belonged to him only. Now they looked down at him, those jagged snow crowned heights. So far away, so imposing, so damned impossible to reach.

On days like these, when the wind was sweet and the sky a true sapphire blue, the urge to fly was overpowering. Sometimes he felt like tearing off the clothes that bound him, dig through flesh and bone to release the Dovah within. On days like these, he wept sometimes because he could not but the memory of flight remained.

"Hey."

Alduin jumped in spite of himself. The human child, Skuli, was standing behind him, holding… "What in the name of Oblivion are those?" he demanded bluntly. Those fleshy pink things had no eyes and they…wriggled in and out of the clump of soil the boy held.

The boy looked pityingly at him and Alduin had to resist the urge to smack the child for his rudeness. "These are worms. And this," he gestured at the pole with a thick white string attached to it, "is a fishing pole. You should join me. It won't do you much good, standing out here and staring and wishing for something that's already gone."

The boy walked right past him, unaware of the astonished expression on the man's face. Was the child a mind reader? Perhaps he had some hidden powers that Alduin had failed to detect because of the weakness of this human form.

"You can fish, can't you?"

If ever there was a gauntlet thrown down, that was it. Ignoring the fact that he didn't even know where on the pole the worms went, Alduin answered in the affirmative and marched after Skuli. Besides, the Dragonborn and her devil horse were not around; there was no one to stop him.

Fish, Alduin realised, were extremely shiny in the sun. They were not purely white either, not with those iridescent scales that shimmered with the colours of a rainbow, a bit of sky brought down to earth. And they jumped a lot, those glassy eyes wide and staring while they gasped for air until Skuli clubbed them with a branch and put them out of their misery.

He had never used to bother about fish. Mammoths, large cows and bulls, those had been his choice of food. Some of his brethren were partial to trolls but the taste did not sit well with him. Once, his Dragon priests had offered him one of the rebels but Alduin had refused. Men were meant to be servants. They provided him with worship, not fodder for his belly. Now, he was immensely glad he had refused. It would have been too strange otherwise.

The fish, Alduin decided, were conspiring against him with Skuli. They would rather die on the boy's rod than his. What was even more of an affront was the number of them that had done so. They might as well have thrown themselves out of the water at the boy's feet.

"Don't scowl so. It's unbecoming of a man to sulk, at least that's what Mother says." Gleefully, Skuli launched his line once again.

"Keep teasing me and you'll never live to find that out for yourself," he muttered darkly while staring daggers at the river, as though his gaze could pierce the silvery denizens that glided beneath. Sweat was gathering at his collar. It ran down his temples and into his hair, plastered the cotton to his back. The first time he had perspired, Alduin had been convinced he was ill or dying. He had felt properly foolish once the Dragonborn had explained what was happening and why.

Ignoring Skuli's giggles, Alduin lifted up his rod, made sure the wretched worm was still hooked and then cast the line again, aiming for a different spot. If he even got one fish, he would thank Akatosh. That was how desperate he was.

He was contemplating how angry the Dragonborn would be if he used his Thu'um to stun the fish when miracle of miracles, a fish latched onto his hook. The pole shuddered as the salmon thrashed furiously, leaping out into the air. Skuli yelled at him to pull it in but Alduin was already yanking the rod up and back, pulling the fish in a graceful arc that cut the air and landed it on the bank. Stifling the triumphant roar in his throat, Alduin jogged over and picked up his still struggling catch.

"That's a real beauty," Skuli breathed, coming over to admire the fish. "And it's so much bigger than the rest. Mother can cook that for our dinner this evening. We can salt the others or trade them."

Usually, when one of his priests outdid the others, the rest of the group fell into attempts to discredit him or tried their damnedest to top that achievement. The same vanity ran in his kind. It made the boy's free praise all the more shockingly unusual.

After clubbing the fish, Skuli carefully cut the line, removed the hook and put it into the bucket with the others. They were headed up the road when the sound of a horse's quick cantering made them look around. Coming back up the path was the Dragonborn and her horse, with Eydis seated behind her in the saddle. They had just returned from a nearby settlement, Rorikstead or something like that.

"Mother, look at what Aldin and I caught!"

The way the Dragonborn's eyes almost bulged out of her head was worth the agony of enduring the sun's burn, Alduin decided with no small amount of satisfaction. Overall, it had not been that bad an experience. Perhaps he would do this again tomorrow.

Dinner, as always, was filled with a mix of elements. Skuli and his mother would somehow find something to talk animatedly about, which was amazing because they saw each other virtually the whole day. Occasionally the Dragonborn would chime in, although he suspected she was withholding information, especially when quizzed about her adventures. 'Of course she would,' he thought. 'I would too if I were in the presence of my nemesis.' A nemesis with whom he was sharing the fish he had caught this afternoon. Surely this was a jest on the part of Fate or the Divines. Apart from that, she was more than happy to talk about the various cities and keeps she had been to. The woman had travelled through more than half of Skyrim, he realised.

Leontius contributed his silence, which was happily swallowed up in the conversation. Alduin too had little to say unless he was asked a question. He found that he preferred to watch the humans; they were quite unlike any he had ever seen or associated with. The food also fascinated him. Like the rest of his senses, his sense of taste was heightened, more so than a normal person's, and human food with all its strange spices and sauces was exceedingly delicious. Alduin sometimes mused that when he resumed his Dovah form, he would recruit a small army of chefs. There was no way that he was ever going back to tasteless meat again.

They had just finished the meal when Alduin heard footsteps outside the inn. His eyes went to the entrance, as did the Dragonborn's when she realised he was listening to something. The door swung open and from the corner of his eye, he could see the Dragonborn go perfectly still at the sight of the towering Argonian who strode in. In his wake were two other men, covered mostly in fur and leather armour. All had swords by their sides.

"Inn-keeper, we would like to trade some game we caught for ale and food." As they walked to the counter, one of them, dark-eyed and brown-haired with a beard like Leontius', looked over at the Dragonborn as though she were food to be eaten.

"And maybe a night's stay as well," he added. All three chuckled and Alduin realised the rest of his dinner companions had gone quiet. Eydis got up reluctantly from the table and went to the counter. Her son never took his eyes from her. For the first time that evening, the fact that the Dragonborn had doffed her armour in favour of a simple shirt and soft breeches mattered.

He did not like it even more when he realised that only one man was following Eydis. The other stood near to the door and the Argonian was closest to them. He had seen the species sometimes, as a Dovah. They had seemed inconsequential then. Now though, in the firelight of the hearth, he did not think so. The creature stood a good head taller than him, all hard scales and bony plating with talons arming its hands and feet. He could feel the other's eyes on him, saw the subtle way Leontius slid the large knife Eydis had used to slice the fish closer to his hand. It was only a matter of time, seconds really. The tension in the air was a tangible, live thing.

"While you're at it, you could give us all your coin as well," the man at said, his voice low and taunting. There was the metallic ring of a knife blade against a sheath, a snarling roar from the Argonian as he leapt straight at Alduin. Beside him, Skuli screamed and then the air burst as a Dragon Shout shook the foundations of the inn.

Streams of light appeared as the fabric of time shattered, casting everything in a pale grey pallor. Both the Argonian and Alduin, who had been raising a defensive arm while pushing the boy aside, shifted their eyes to the one who made Time grind to a near halt and all but paralysed them in their tracks.

Launching herself from the seat, she snatched a dagger from her boot, rolled and came up in a sprint that ended when she plunged the shining gilded blade into the man's body, right at the spot where the neck met the spine. There was a loud sickening crack, followed by the smell of burning flesh as the body burst into flames which illuminated the silent scream that was Eydis' opened mouth.

Whirling, she raised an arm and something crystalline formed. As it ripped through the air in his direction, Alduin felt ice brush his hair, frosting it over as the spike buried itself in the Argonian's eye. Then his insides heaved as he felt Time gather, rush in on itself and break free of the confines of the Shout. Everything went white and then the world returned in all its colour and he caught the tail end of the Argonian's agonized scream, as well as its razor talons on his arm as it lashed out in blind fury.

The smell of his own blood mixed with that of the corpse's and Alduin fell back, hitting the bench before rolling to the ground, his flesh in ribbons. Sheer rage and a Dovah's battle lust brought him to his feet. The Dragonborn was standing between a fallen Leontius and the other man, the air before her shimmering brilliant white and blue. But they were the least of his concerns. The Argonian was tearing madly at the spike in its eye, stumbling about. Crouching low, he snuck around its back and waited until the bandit exposed the sword that hung on its belt. Alduin lunged, grasped cold metal and pulled, sliding the weapon from its sheath. It was heavy, much heavier than he expected and his grip was awkward but he held on.

Aware of the danger it was in now, the reptile stepped back, its face a mess of blood, ice and half-frozen viscous matter. It wasn't just the hands that were weapons; its feet were too. He had to remember that if he was going to survive. Suddenly, it cried out in pain and turned, enough for Alduin to see Skuli holding a flaming brand. Unhesitatingly, he lifted the sword and thrust it forward, straight for the Argonian's side, which was uncovered by armour. The blade slid on hard scales and for one horrible moment, he thought it was all over. And then the flesh gave as sharp metal found its way home in the body of its former master.

Alduin could not hear the Argonian's screams above the roar that thundered in his ears as he pushed, driving the stumbling bandit back until it hit the wall and he impaled it there with its own sword. Lips pulled wide in a predatory snarl, he snapped his jaws, hissing in triumph over his gurgling victim until strong hands he could not shake off pulled him away.

It was the Dragonborn, pale, grim and blood-splattered. "Leave him be. He is almost dead." When she glanced down at his arm, he remembered the pain and felt weakness from the blood lost. Laying her palm against his wounds, over the parts where the glint of bone could be seen, she spoke, lips moving silently and her hair lit up like white fire in the shower of gold light that suffused them both.

Flesh knit back together, skin healed, and pain fled as the injury closed seamlessly, as though it had never been. When she was finished, the colour had returned to her face. "Skuli, help your mother with Leontius. I've healed him but the poison has drained his strength. Take a Stamina potion from my pack and give that to him too. Aldin and I will get rid of the bodies."

By the time they cleaned up most of the blood and were done with covering the shallow graves, bones that he never knew he had ached. And the whole time, the Dragonborn held her silence even though he could sense the Dovah inside her, its spirit on edge and testing the control that was written all over her tight expression.

He held his tongue as she returned the shovels to the stables, watched as her anxious horse nudged and nuzzled her; it had been chomping on its bit and rearing, wild-eyed because of the fight inside which it could hear but not help in. Even when they walked down to the river together, he kept his peace, washing his stained hands in the river, choosing to remove the ruined shirt. She merely tore off the sleeves, tossing the blood-encrusted strips aside as she washed herself as clean as possible.

"You have blood in your hair," Alduin said quietly. She stiffened, nodded her thanks before dunking her entire head beneath the surface. Straightening up, she brushed the sodden locks from her face, kneading and wringing them. "Why is there blood on your sleeves?"

"I stabbed the bandit."

"There wouldn't be so much, not with that Thu'um. And it was yours, almost all of it. I can smell your scent."

His eyes fell on her arms, as unmarked as his under the starlight. "I heard you scream, Dovahkiin. Tell me what happened."

Divines damn him. So he had heard me and I had screamed. The pain had been unexpected, especially since there had been no opponent there to provide a reason for the agony.

Cold water ran down my back in trickles, soaking my shirt, flattening it against my form and for once, I did not care. Caution, confusion and the need to speak to someone warred mightily inside me, squeezing my chest with an invisible fist.

Before I had healed him, my arm had borne five slash marks, my flesh shredded as his had been. When the Argonian had hurt him, he hurt me too. 'And just what does that signify?' I wondered wildly. 'Is that why no one passed down this Shout?' Perhaps the Master of the Voice who had made it had met his end with the first dragon he tested it on. In slaying the beast he slew himself.

I could not tell him that. I would have to wait for a chance to return to High Hrothgar and seek the counsel of the Greybeards. If I could get away from Alduin, that was.

There was one question I had to ask though. "What does it mean, that Shout which I used against you?"

Disbelief coloured his voice. "You did not know?"

I leveled my gaze at him. "The meaning." It was not a request. But the look on his face was enough to make me wish I had brought my blades out with me. Shadowmere stepped closer, casting his shadow over me as he whickered a soft warning.

"You spoke words to chain me in mortal form. Mortal, Finite, Bind. That is the Thu'um in your tongue. I thought you knew, that you had deliberately done this to me. You ignorant fool!"

His words fell like whips, for inwardly, they were mine too. I was a fool, playing with an ancient magic beyond me. Just because it had been given did not mean I had to use it. I should have just gone to the Greybeards as I had planned. By now I would have learnt that other Shout, the one used by the heroes of old. 'One that would not have bound me to the World Eater himself,' I thought, rising on unsteady knees to my feet. Now I knew why he had turned into a Nord. Because I was one and Talos help me, in all likelihood he had taken on my form.

"Dovahkiin!"

Not knowing what else to do, I ignored him, grasping Shadowmere's mane, his presence an emotional bulwark from the storm inside. We lay down beside each other in the stable, my head on his flank as he curled himself around my shivering form.

That night, dawn took forever to arrive.