.
Act II
Uncommon
Chapter VIII
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
Nothing was said as they retrieved the horses and mounted up at the base of the Karthspire. Severus had so many questions now—when had she found out that she was the Dragonborn? What did it feel like when she absorbed the dragon's soul and severed it forever from the world? Did she have the voice of the dragon that Severus had read about?
"Ajiira?"
She turned to look at him, her eyes dim. "Hmm?"
He slowed his horse and she did the same. He wished that he knew how to take some of her burdens away—that he could share the load of these great and terrible expectations instead of adding to them.
"Just let me know if you need help—with anything," he said urgently.
Ajiira smiled suddenly and dismounted; concerned, he followed her.
"This one has always wished to climb to the Bard's Leap Summit; perhaps you would wish to accompany Ajiira with your bow? Our eyes will need to be as sharp as our arrows." She motioned to a winding little trail that crossed the river and turned upwards to the left, breaking off of the paved road that headed to the great crossroads. If he had so much as blinked when heading past he would have missed it. [1]
In answer, he tightened his bracer and resettled his three-fingered shooting glove with a smile.
They crossed the river and left the horses pegged near the scrubby juniper at the first flight of crumbling stone stairs and began the climb quickly and quietly. On the left was a deep pool into which the terraced waterfalls and narrow cascades that fell down the sides of the cliffs collected. On the right rose a sheer cliff that hemmed the path in as they ascended upwards. Severus hung back, allowing Ajiira to scout and spy the lay of the land ahead of him. She moved like a shadow, even in the daylight, blending into the grasses and rubble as though she possessed supernatural skill. For all Severus knew, she probably did.
As they rounded the first corner Severus caught sight of the challenge that they had undertaken. A series of tiered ruins, built of the familiar grey stones that the ancients had used for the barrows, spread out before them. There were the liths topped with the beak-like curves and trilithon arches that reminded him of the great stoneworks at Stonehenge.
As they approached the first arch they were met with the familiar stomach-turning sight of goat heads on poles and a collection of human skulls.
"Forsworn," Severus hissed in distaste.
Ajiira nodded, "Keep your wits sharp; they will be craftier here—with the crevices and overlooks—than they were at the Karthspire camp."
Severus nodded sharply.
"You have a potion of invisibility?" she asked.
Severus patted the vial belt he wore slung tight across his chest.
"If there is trouble you will use it—promise Ajiira!" She stepped close to him, her eyes wide and serious.
He nodded again and she smiled, her tail curling and flicking in pleasure. "Let us go then."
Hanging above them was a dead Nord in a cage. Severus frowned and fought a wave of nausea. He swallowed hard and thought of survival—he must kill or be killed. The Karthspire camp had taught him that.
At the top of the first terrace there was a small camp, surrounding a huge pool and waterfall. Ajiira fought from the shadows, loosing her dark arrows into tender necks. Severus hovered at her shoulder, chasing her shots with bursts of white-hot flames. The enemy went down like sacks of flour, often silently, with only the hiss and spit of the fire that ignited their fur and feather armor breaking the morning calm.
When the entire plateau was clear, Ajiira approached the pool, dipping her hands in the water. Severus followed quietly. She smiled at him and wordlessly pointed upwards. His eyes traveled up the waterfall framed by two liths to a sheltered stone overhang that protruded from the center of the top edge and held up through the rushing water by a stone pillar that rested on an outcropping of rocks halfway down.
"Bard's Leap," she said gleefully.
"Do people really jump from there?"
She chuckled, "Bards, perhaps, if the stories are true. Should we see if the view is worth the climb?"
Severus sighed, "Only way to know for sure is to climb it."
"How right you are, Ma'Severus."
They made mostly peaceful progress, sneaking around the edges of the camps that were scattered over the redoubt. Even with Severus's growing endurance it was a struggle to climb the winding trail with the required stealth.
It was two hours before the crested the last flight of stairs and reached the summit. A river ran out of a secluded den made of leather walls to the edge where it dropped with a dull roaring. The stonework bridge spanned the length of it, centered in the rushing water and reaching out into thin air where the cliff fell away.
Severus would have exclaimed at the beauty of it but Ajiira pressed a finger to her lips and motioned to the left, where the little encampment was.
"Hagraven Nest," she purred, tail flicking.
Severus remembered a mention of the beasts in the Herbalist's Guide to Skyrim, creatures who had traded humanity for the darker side of powerful magics. There had been no pictures but the bone-chilling warning that they were dangerous, so changed by the magic they sought that their entire beings held elements of that power, had reminded him of the prices of the Dark Arts.
Ajiira laid an arrow in her bow, "Hagravens—witches changed by vile ceremonials." She spat. "They are revered by the Forsworn as their Clan Mothers. Prepare yourself; their magical range is impressive. There may also be a Briarheart in the thicket."
He opened his mouth to ask about what a Briarheart was when a scream from the thicket rent the air.
Ajiira snapped to attention, pupils dilated, and ears quivering. "A ritual—"
They crept towards the stone path. Severus placed his boot on the first step, only to find it slick with blood. Staring down, he felt his stomach give a little roll but he had no time to worry, because Ajiira was on the move.
"Heart of thorn... bones of the wild... in life, Forsworn..."
And then another growling voice joined the chant, "...rise from death, Blood of our Blood." [*]
As they rounded the edge of the first screen Severus caught sight of the enemy: two Hagravens. They were even more monstrous in person he had imagined: they seemed to be a bird crossed with an old crone. Dark feathers sprouted from their forearms and their fingers were tipped with talons that were dripping with blood. Their scrawny legs ended in bird-like three-toed feet.
The first one dropped—Ajiira's arrow in her throat—before they even knew their enemies were there. The other turned, surprise on its hawkish face, limp scraggly hair swinging.
It hissed and advanced on them, bringing with it the scent of death and rotting carrion.
A man rolled off of the altar with sluggish jerking movements and lunged for Severus. He was broader then the young mage and had his hands around his slender throat before Severus could draw his weapon.
Severus dropped his bow to claw frantically at the hands at his throat. Wild eyes peered down at him from behind a great headdress of deerskin and bones. From somewhere over the man's shoulder Severus could hear the crackle of fire magic and see flashes of light.
Reaching for anything to grab onto, Severus felt his fingers sink into warm moist flesh. Seizing the hard prickly thing he touched he gave a jerk and felt warm liquid bathing his hand and flowing over his wrist.
The man's grip suddenly slackened and he fell back, sprawled out over the crimson-drenched stone altar, the open wound over his heart welling with warm lifeblood.
Severus looked down at the spiky edged red and gold pod that he clutched in his right hand, gore covering him up to his elbow.
Merlin—he had just ripped a man's heart out.
Leaning forward slightly he could see the cavity in the man's chest was indeed empty, the leather thongs that had held the briar heart in dangling uselessly. There was a human heart laying on the edge of the altar and a plethora of the briar hearts scattered between daggers and goat entrails.
He sank to his knees and emptied his stomach.
Ajiira was at his side, tugging the briar heart out of his grip and hauling him out into the sunshine. She knelt him at the waters edge and washed his hand, removing his shooting gauntlet and rinsing that, too. He stared down at her capable hands cleansing him.
When that was done she pulled her wineskin from over her shoulder, "Drink deeply. You did well Severus-jo, but you have had a shock." [2]
He smiled at her shakily and raised the skin to his lips, tasting the slightly bitter wine.
"Perhaps we will save the leap for another time?"
Severus laughed, "Please, let's."
"Do you feel up to exploring the nest a little?" Ajiira asked lightly, smoothing his hair back gently and urging him to take another long drink from the wineskin.
He took a fortifying breath and nodded. "Briar hearts are expensive potion ingredients."
Ajiira led the way, stepping over the bodies of their enemies and pointing to the curved wall with deep gouges in its surface. She touched the stone reverently before raising her arms in acceptance.
Severus watched open-mouthed as swirls of blue and white magic emerged from the stone enveloped her body in a storm of light. Ajiira sank to her knees as the last of the magic faded. It reminded Severus of her absorption of the Dragon's soul.
"Ajiira cannot resist its call," she whispered when he knelt next to her and ran his hands over her shoulders, assuring himself that she was all right.
"What is it?" he asked wonderingly.
She took a deep breath, "A Word-Wall. They teach Ajiira the Thu'um—words of power—in the Dragon language."
Severus eyed the grey stone distrustfully. "What then? What do you do once you have learned the word of power?"
Ajiira shrugged, turning back towards the sunshine, leading him away from the Hagraven carnage. "Ajiira could speak the words of power, use them as her birthright—but she does not."
"Why not?" Surely such a gift should be used.
Ajiira raised her arms and stretched. "When this one travelled to the monestary of High Hrothgar to speak for the first time with the Greybeards, they told me of their philosophies—the Way of the Voice—only using the Thu'um in times of true need. Khajiit is able to use her cunning and her bow in battle, so why would she dishonor Khenarthi or Alkosh by misusing their...gifts?" [3] She said gifts with a twist in her voice, acknowledging that she did not ultimately wish for these gods' favors. "They taught Ajiira that the Voice must be used only for the worship and glory of the gods. Its true mastery can only be achieved by bringing the inner spirit into harmony with Khajiit's actions." She sighed, "This one does not wish for mastery, but neither does she wish to misuse such power."
Severus joined her at the edge of the waterfall, looking out over the lower mountains. "You are doing wonderfully," he said admiringly.
Ajiira just laughed.
They rode, tired but deliriously happy to be home, into the manor courtyard so late that the sky was beginning to lighten.
Ozra, who was the day break watch, took their horses from them, although they offered to tend them. They stumbled into the great house and up the stairs. Aiding each other in shedding their armor and falling without thought into Ajiira's bed in a tangle of limbs, tails, and hair.
When Severus woke, the early morning light slanting through the carved wooden shutters, Ajiira was purring against his neck. He lay on his back and she was sprawled across his chest, her dreadlocks draping heavily over his shoulder. They were surprisingly clean and tidy, and many of them were adorned: some were wrapped in warm-colored yarns, some with beads (both wooden and glass), a few with jewels (mostly garnets and topaz), brown and cream speckled feathers woven in underneath her left ear, and small copper and gold medallions decorated with tooled symbols clinked at the ends. She had two thin gold hoops low on her right ear.
With a tentative finger he traced the dark fur line that curved from the corner of her closed eye to her jaw in a gentle arc.
"S-s-severus—" She purred, her nose wrinkling slightly, but she didn't wake.
With a sigh he petted her soft cheek and forehead gently as he slipped back into sleep.
"Ajiira will go to High Hrothgar while you gather the books, Severus-jo."
She was packing a small bag as she spoke, the shadows dark in her eyes again.
He nodded, robbed of anything but sorrow at her departure.
She crossed to him and twined her arms around his neck, touching his chin with her nose. "This one thanks you. Ajiira began as your protector, yes?" She smiled and cocked her head. "But Khajiit can now rely on you."
He returned her embrace tenderly. "Be safe. I'll come with the prophecy as soon as I can."
She nodded against his chest and then untangled herself, heading for the door. Severus couldn't bear to watch her go, turning instead towards the library.
He was comparing Esbern's list to Ajiira's book-stuffed shelves when Serana sauntered in and pretended to browse the titles.
For a long time the silence stretched until Severus had gathered his courage. "Serana?" he asked tentatively.
She turned to look at him with her firelight eyes; somehow, they always surprised him. "Yes?"
"So Khajiit are like—well they are human like in their...uhm," he made a outline of a feminine form in the air with his palms.
Serana cocked one sardonic brow. "Well, Ajiira is a Cathay Khajiit."
Severus shook his head, not understanding.
"There are many kinds of Khajiit that I have not seen—all of the Khajiit who live in Skyrim seem to be the Cathay. Their are many types—some that walk on all fours, some that are as small as dogs or smaller and as big as horses and bigger. Internally, Khajiit differ from other races of man and mer—I mean, they have tails and ears—but some walk on their toes with back-bent knees."
"Can Khajiits and humans...uh...you know..." he made another helpless motion with his hands as though mashing two things together.
Serana stared at his hands for a long moment before bursting into laughter. She reached above him and pulled out a book from the top shelf and hit him over the head with it. "You are fortunate to be a man asking about this." She dropped the book in his hands: The Real Barenziah Part IV Uncensored. [4]
He reached up to rub his head. "So that's a yes?" he ventured.
"That's a yes." Serana left the library laughing all the way.
Severus glared after her; it was hard enough to ask about the biology of the Khajiit without being laughed at.
A few scant moments later he was mortified and in a surly mood.
When he emerged from the manor house with two great saddlebags stuffed with books, he found the steading gathered and loading a wagon.
"What's this?" he asked Ozra, who stood near.
The elf turned, surprise flitting over his face for a mere moment before his golden skin smoothed. "Monthly trip to Falkreath to trade."
Celesta the alchemist was loading crates of honey into the wagonbed while Keith secured them with ropes. "Would you like to ride out with us? I don't think you've had a chance to visit our hold's capital before.
Severus shook his head, "Perhaps I will ride with you for a ways but my business takes me back to the Reach."
"Lady Cat is lucky to have a retainer of your caliber," Lydia said approvingly.
After parting ways with his company on the road to Falkreath, the ride was quick and hard. His saddlebags, heavy with books, nudged against his legs, reminding him of his duties. No longer was he just a bystander of the history-making that he had seen around him, but now an active participant.
With his quick horse and quiver of arrows he made his way, unscathed, to the Karthspire. Still he longed for a Khajiit at his side, but if she honored her duties, he would honor his.
Upon arriving, he found the Blades' horses, looking somewhat neglected. After tending to them, he began the climb to the great temple.
It was much as he had left it, although now more cluttered with furniture, empty bottles, and trays of the rotting remains of meals taken in haste. Delphine sat a little ways off, polishing armor and sharpening swords, her bottle always at her elbow.
He climbed to the dais where Esbern had set up his workspace. A few crude tables, brought up from the Forsworn camp he guessed, were covered with stacks of papers weighed down with stones, open books stacked in piles, a set of brushes for cleaning the stone carvings, and lit lanterns.
"Where is Ajiira?" Delphine growled.
Severus didn't even turn to look at her. "Busy. I brought Esbern's books." He unloaded his satchels on the table.
Esbern pounced on them, "Fabulous! Fabulous! I've been writing some notes about all the Akaviri designs we've discovered—these will be my breakthrough! If only the Imperial Library could see my research." [**]
Severus couldn't help but smile at him. He was like a child on Christmas.
Esbern studied his notes and compared them with the new books. He had great rubbings laid out before him and his quill, loaded with scarlet ink, flew over the designs. He would pick out a symbol here or make a note there, until the whole thing was a mass of information.
"Well?" Delphine snipped when Severus forced the aging researcher to pause for dinner.
"Patience, my dear. The Akaviri were not a straightforward people. Everything is couched in allegory and mythic symbolism." [*]
Delphine only rolled her eyes.
Severus had resigned himself to waiting for the prophecy to be translated. After all, it was too late to head to Ivarstead in pursuit of Ajiira that night. Severus feared nothing with Ajiira at his side, but on a horse, isolated in Forsworn country after the evening watch? That was another matter entirely.
He settled at the fire in the bedchamber, filled with empty beds and moldering straw ticks.
Esbern, always working it seemed, smoothed the page of a leather bound journal and dipped a quill into purple ink. "Delphine, I've been chronicling the recent history of the Blades. What would you like your entry to say?"
"'I survived'?" she deadpanned, opening a new bottle of wine and taking a long drink.
Esbern scoffed, "Come now. You did more than just survive all those years. Your evasion of the Thalmor would be useful for future Blades to study."
Severus smiled; Esbern would always be an archivist it seemed.
Delphine rolled her eyes, "What? Your heroic tale of locking yourself in the Ratway for years isn't enough?"[*]
Severus narrowed his eyes at her, glaring at her disrespect. "Do you have an entry for me, Esbern? I know I'm not officially a Blade, but—"
"You are an unremarkable footnote to an irresponsible Dragonborn who shirks her duties and is sympathetic to the enemy," Delphine snarled.
In a heartbeat Severus had launched himself low over the fire. He hit her full in the chest with his shoulder, knocking her back and sending her bottle flying. It shattered somewhere off to their right.
"How dare you say that about Ajiira!" He hissed through clenched teeth and they rolled, propelled by his weight.
There was a mad scrabble of fists and they ended up reversed, Severus laying on his back, the uneven pebbled floor digging into his back. Delphine lay sprawled, heavy across his thighs, a smear of dust across her cheek. Her dirty shoulder length hair, stringy with grease, had come free of her leather and hung heavily around her face.
With one hand she gripped his throat and with the other she drew her dagger. "I didn't get where I am today as a pansy-livered woman—you are a fool to challenge me." She snarled, brandishing the dagger at his throat menacingly.
For a long moment they stared at each other. Despite the situation, all Severus felt was rage. He wondered if Esbern would ever forgive him if he killed her. He wiggled his wrist until he freed his palm and sent a tiny spark of energy into her side. He shoved her, rolling again and grappling for the knife.
"You're a bitch, Delphine," he hissed, sending the weapon skittering away.
Standing over her, he spit in the dirt once. Esbern was staring at them with wide, confused eyes.
"I am sorry to have disturbed your reading, Esbern."
He turned on his heel and stomped out to the overlook to sit near Ajiira's old fire pit. He did not sleep, but only watched the movement of the moons and the motion of the stars.
"I think it's done," Esbern said proudly after lunch, beginning to roll his great sheets of paper into tidy bundles. "We will deliver it ourselves."
Dephine took another pull from her always-present bottle. "Ah yes—if the Dragonborn is too busy to come to us we will go to her."
Severus stood, ignoring Delphine's tone, "I will ready the horses. We will ride to Ivarstead and climb the Seven Thousand Steps ourselves."
They camped once for a few short hours on the wild moor in the shadow of Whiterun, on the bank of the White River. Reaching Ivarstead as the sun was setting on the second day, Delphine's temper was shorter than ever and Esbern was exhausted.
"Climb them alone if you wish," Severus hissed over the bar table in the familiar din of Vilemyr Inn. He motioned to Wilhelm and pressed a coin into the female bard's palm. "Play something jolly," he commanded.
Delphine was being difficult again, insisting that they climb the Seven Thousand Steps that very night. One look at Esbern's ashen face, nodding over his ale was enough to convince Severus that they would have to spend at least one night at the inn.
The barkeeper brought their trays: whole roasted pheasants drizzled with herbed butter and a tall stack of the flat osyrat kornbröd and a large crock of skyr. [5]
"Thank you, Wilhelm. A jug of cyder too, if you would be so kind." [6]
"And another bottle of wine—be quick about it man," Delphine piped up.
Severus made a note to pay the poor man extra in the morning when he settled up the rooms and arranged for the care of their horses.
In the early predawn grey of the morning they set off for the peak. The sky was heavy with clouds that matched Severus's mood. Klimmek, one of Severus's acquaintances from his last visit to Ivarstead, climbed the first few hours with them. Severus was glad of his company.
The first hour was almost pleasant: the air was crisp enough to keep their bodies cool on the hike and the switchbacks provided an amazing view of the Skyrim, unfolding like a multicolored tapestry below them. The steps were uneven between the golden birch and brush, and as the wind got colder, the frost seemed to creep down the rocks to meet them, bringing with it the hardy fur trees and crimson snowberry bushes.
When they reached the second carved emblem, the older man turned back and Severus shouldered his pack of supplies for the Greybeards. [7]
Nothing could have prepared Severus for the climb, not even the Pass into the Rift. He had Esbern's heavy pack as well as his own, not to mention Klimmek's supplies. Delphine, predictably, refused to even offer help.
As evening closed in the clouds descended, obscuring the breathtaking views with a snow squall that blew down over the side of the mountain. As the storm continued to rage around them, the path seemed to get steeper and more treacherous, with drifts obscuring the path and camouflaging the steps.
The last hours dragged as Severus often supported the struggling Esbern with one arm and hauled himself forward through the drifts. The only thing that kept him going was the promise of finally seeing Ajiira at the end of it. The snow eased into fog as they reached even higher plateaus. It often seemed that they descended more than they ascended, discouraging Severus greatly.
The grey stone of the monastery emerged from the fog as they neared. Two great staircases, gleaming with the sheen of ice, curved around a tall watchtower to the dark doorways.
"Finally," Severus groaned, adjusting the heavy packs. Turning back to offer his arm to the elder, they picked their way up the steps slowly, Delphine trailing them.
Severus prayed that the Greybeards would allow them sanctuary and that Delphine would keep her mouth shut long enough for them to at least see a fire.
Raising one fist he pounded on the heavy door. "Ho! Travelers to see the Dragonborn—friends and helpers."
There was a long moment of waiting, the wind howling and the sky darkening. Severus had tucked Esbern into the corner against the door to try and shelter the shivering old man from the icy wind.
Finally the door creaked open and a bearded face peered out. "Who comes calling for the Dragonborn?"
"Severus-jo—wizard. Esbern—archivist. Delphine—pain in the arse," Severus snapped, battling the wind for his hood. "It is freezing out here and night is upon us. Can we at least speak to Ajiira?"
The man frowned from below his hood.
"I've brought supplies from Ivarstead as well—Klimmek's complements."
The sun was setting now, only an edge of red decorating the west, peaking over the edge of the mountain and the air was freezing.
"Very well, you may enter, but only until the Dragonborn has returned." The man pulled the door slightly wider and Delphine shouldered her way around Severus, although he had meant for Esbern to enter first.
"Where is that cat?" she seethed.
The bearded man looked her and her distinctive purple armor up and down, disapproval darkening his face. Severus had an inkling that he would be seeing the Greybeard and Blade opposition in person very soon.
Hustling Esbern further in he hurried past the stand off and to a shadowy figure across the room, standing under a banner at the base of a shallow flight of stairs.
"The máleldr fire?" [8] he asked.
The man, also bearded and hooded in the same grey robes, raised an arm to point silently. Severus shrugged Klimmek's pack off of his shoulder and pressed it into the man's arms.
Behind him he heard the deep voice of the Greybeard, "She is meditating at the moment, and you will leave her in peace—Blade."
The hall was lit with guttering candles and the cold seeped in around the leaded glass windows but the chamber off to the left was warm with the hearthfire snapping merrily and a stew pot empty but close at hand.
Severus unwound the scarves and furs from around Esbern's chilled form and settled him close beside the fire. Unpacking his own bag he freed the battered teakettle from where it dangled beside his bedroll and filled it from the water jug. He set it to boil as he continued to unpack dried meat and bread. Using his dagger, he pealed back the edge of the waxy rind of the golden cheese to melt over the dark loaf. When the kettle whistled, he poured the first cup for the old man.
"I've brought my reading and research," Esbern said excitedly, seeming unconcerned that he was surrounded by unfriendly faces.
Severus helped unroll the great rubbings of Alduin's Wall, covered in notes in red ink, over the curving table.
"Look, here is Alduin! This panel goes back to the beginning of time, when Alduin and the Dragon Cult ruled over Skyrim." [*] They all crowded around; even the silent Greybeards could not resist.
"Dragonborn, it would be best if the monks were not here," Delphine interrupted.
Ajiira raised tired blue eyes from the paper. "Why?" she asked, her voice flat.
Delphine scowled, "Obviously they are not on our side."
"Delphine, they also know dragon-kind and may offer their own counsel."
The four Greybeards shifted slightly, their heavy robes rustling.
"Just continue, Esbern," Severus snapped, glaring at the armor-clad woman. When she looked like she might argue Severus continued, "If you don't shut up, Delphine, I will put you out onto the mountain myself."
A heavy silence descended and for a long breath no one moved. Esbern took advantage of the silence and began again.
"Here, the humans rebel against their dragon overlords—the legendary Dragon War. Alduin's defeat is the centerpiece of the Wall. You see, here he is falling from the sky. The Nord Tongues—masters of the Voice—are arrayed against him." [*]
"So, does it show how they defeated him?" [*]Delphine asked, shooting Severus a nasty look.
"Yes, yes. This here, coming from the mouths of the Nord heroes—this is the Akaviri symbol for 'Shout.'"[*]
There was a murmur from Arngeir.
"But... there's no way to know what Shout is meant," Esbern continued.[*]
Delphine interjected, "You mean they used a Shout to defeat Alduin? You're sure?"
"What? Well as sure as I can be. Presumably something rather specific to dragons, or even Alduin himself. This is where they recorded all they knew of Alduin and his return." [**]
"So we're looking for a Shout, then. Damn it."[*] She shot the gathered men another nasty look before turning to Ajiira, "Have you ever heard of such a thing?"
The Khajiit shook her head no and raised her eyes to Arngeir.
The elder was already shaking his head. "You Blades specialize in meddling in things you can barely understand—drawing the Dragonborn after you with your reckless arrogance that knows no bounds." [**]
Severus thought that described Delphine rather well.
"You seek to turn the Dragonborn from the path of wisdom!" He leveled his withering stare at Esbern and then Delphine before turning to supplicate Ajiira. "Would you be a tool in their incapable hands? Have you learned so little from us?"
Ajiira looked pained.
"Can you teach her the shout?" Severus asked.
"I cannot."
Delphine slammed her fist on the tabletop. "Selfish fools!"
"I cannot teach it because I do not know it," he continued, crossing his arms over his chest with a frown. "The shout is Dragonrend but its words of power are unknown to us. But you know that this Thu'um holds no place in the Way of the Voice."
Ajiira nodded silently, raising a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose.
"What's wrong with Dragonrend?" Delphine pressed.
Arngeir continued his lecture, reminding Severus of Esbern. "It was created by those who had lived under the unimaginable cruelty of the Dragon Cult. It was born from their pain and anger—their hatred was poured into it. When a person learns a shout they take it into their being, it becomes part of them, they become the shout. To learn this Thu'um would be to take a great evil into yourself." [**]
"So you will not help us? I knew it—monks as stubborn as mules!" Delphine howled.
Ajiira turned away, asking quietly "If this Thu'um is lost to us how can Alduin be defeated? Are we to let the world be devoured without pause?"
"This Shout was used once before, was it not? And here we are again. Have you considered that Alduin was not meant to be defeated? Those who overthrew him in ancient times only postponed the day of reckoning; they did not stop it. If the world is meant to end, so be it. Let it end and be reborn," Arngeir intoned. [*]
It might be easy for him to give up his life, as quiet and unassuming as it was in this stone fortress, but Severus thought of Lakeview Manor—of Ma'isha and Serana and all those who bowed to the Lady Cat—and he could not imagine sentencing them to death through inaction.
Before he could speak, one of the Greybeards, who had been silent as the grave before now spoke in a whisper, his voice rumbling so deeply with barely constrained power that it seemed even the foundation of High Hrothgar trembled. "Arngeir. Rek los Dovahkiin, Strundu'ul. Rek fen tinvaak Paarthurnax." [9]
Although Severus could not understand the language, the rebuke was clear in his voice.
Arngeir turned away for a moment. "Einarth—yes, you are correct. I am sorry, Dragonborn; I have been intemperate with you. Master Einarth has reminded me of my duty. It is time that you spoke to Paarthurnax, although you are not ready. You have questions only he can answer."
Ajiira took a deep breath and then nodded. "Take this humble Khajiit to him."
She did not return through the back doors of the monastery until the next morning, looking even more worn and tired than ever.
She sat, silent, next to him at the hearthfire and ate what he put in her hands. When she had finished, she re-laced her boots. "This one will send a message from Ivarstead."
Severus lay a hand on her arm, "Let me go, or send Delphine—please. You need to sleep."
"Ajiira will return by evening," the cat said with finality, touching his hand. "Keep Delphine from killing any of the monks—if you can." She was smiling but it was hollow.
Severus nodded and turned his hand over so that their palms rested together. "It seems as though we are always leaving each other," he mused sadly.
Ajiira nodded, raising their joined hands so she could brush his with her cheek, "So it does."
Time passed slowly on the mountain, the frosted windows the only indication of the time of day. No one stirred beyond the common room or ventured out into stinging cold.
Ajiira reviewed Esbern's notes and stared broodingly into the fire. Even Delphine was subdued. Severus read the few books that High Hrothgar had to offer and tended to his and Ajiira's gear.
After the third day there was a scuffle at the entrance and a new shadow fell across the threshold.
"One of yours, I assume, Dragonborn?" Arngeir asked, motioning to the woman at his side.
Scrambling to his feet he advanced on her, "Serana! It is good to see you!" He was more than a little surprised to see her standing, three great scrolls slung across her back.
Ajiira beat him to the woman, embracing the vampire for a long moment and accepting the scrolls from her hands.
"I brought them all—just in case," Serana said, looking the Khajiit up and down worriedly.
Severus came up beside the cat and extended his hand, expecting a handshake, but was enveloped in a great embrace.
"Severus—" Serana released him quickly enough but the sense of solidarity and kinship lingered.
"Stay here and keep watch, please, Serana." Ajiira had gathered her furs and bow and stood, holding Severus's cloak and cowl. "There is no time to waste. Come with Khajiit," she addressed him, her tone pleading and Severus could not help but nod and pull on his boots.
"You should reconsider, Dragonborn," Arngeir stood in the doorway.
Ajiira bowed her head, "Thank you for your concern, Master Arngeir, but this one's steps are surely chosen. Sky above, voice within." She reached out and clasped his hand before pushing open the door that lead to the courtyard.
Severus looked back and met Serana's solemn gaze.
The sun was setting again when they neared the great stone arch that marked the path they would take to the peak of the mountain. Severus wondered what significance it had that they were always in darkness.
"Walk carefully behind my tail," Ajiira said, "The darkness will make this pathway treacherous and it will be difficult to distinguish where the night ends and the storms begin."
She did not exaggerate, and more than once they slid in the darkness, scrambling to regain their footing and grasping for each other's hands. Severus wondered how she had managed the trek alone.
It was not until the sun began to rise over the Throat of the World, crimson staining the sky and sharp light blinding in its brightness as it glinted like a thousand faceted diamonds, that they crested the peak.
Severus reached out to take Ajiira's gauntleted hand in his and gave it a squeeze. She turned to look at him, whiskers trembling.
"Severus-jo, Ma'Severus," she started, "This one wishes—"
But a great shadow passed over them and she never finished as a deep voice interrupted.
"You have it. The Kel - the Elder Scroll. Tiid kreh... qalos. Time shudders at its touch. There is no question. You are doom-driven. Kogaan Akatosh." The dragon called Parthurnax alighted on the word wall and folded ancient tattered wings.
Severus was awed at the sight of the great beast, perched bird-like before them. His first instinct was to draw his bow, but it was obvious that the dragon was an ally.
When Ajiira unslung the ivory and gold cylinder the great beast recoiled, lowering his head.
"The very bones of the earth are at your disposal," he said reverently.
Ajiira took a deep breath and squared her fur-laden shoulders, the bright cleansing light of morning bathing her in a golden glow.
"Go then," he continued, "Fulfill your destiny. Take the Scroll to the Time-Wound. Do not delay. Alduin will be coming. He cannot miss the signs."
Ajiira crossed the snow slowly. There was a shimmering in the air, and as Severus followed her he felt its nearness prickle along his skin. It felt as though he stood at the edge of a great height and that one misstep would send him over a never-ending edge.
Ajiira turned the scroll over in her hands, light reflecting off of the violet jewels.
"For Skyrim—for Nirni," she finally said, and opened it in one smooth movement.
There was a rushing, like passing through a great bank of air. She went stiff, and although she kept the scroll before her eyes, she would have fallen if not for Severus's arms about her shoulders.
"Avert your eyes Kro Aar of Kaaz Dovahkiin, the Kel will blind you," the dragon rumbled. [10]
Severus buried his face in Ajiira's dreadlocks, just behind one soft ear. The sun climbed as Ajiira leaned on him; eyes wide and unseeing as her body shuddered and her whiskers and ears flickered.
When she stirred and closed the scroll gently, she was panting slightly.
"Ajiira?" he asked.
"A moment—please," she breathed, leaning on him.
There was no time for her to recover for in a great rush of wings a new voice sounded. "Bahloki nahkip sillesejoor. My belly is full of the souls of your fellow mortals, Dovahkiin," the voice was deep and terrible, and Severus's bones quivered in answer to its thrumming. [*]
When he turned he could see the great ebony black dragon that circled them. It was so close that he could see the hatred in its scarlet eyes.
[*] In-game dialogue.
[**] Adapted from in-game dialogue.
[1] Lost Valley Redoubt & Bard's Leap Summit are both worth the trip if you have not yet been up there.
[2] "Jo" means "wizard".
[3] Khenarthi & Alkosh—the Khajiiti aspects of Kynareth/Kyne and Akatosh/Auri-El respectively.
[4] We can thank Daggerfall for this gem of literature. Reader discretion is advised.
[5] Osyrat Kornbröd = Barley Flatbread; Skyr = a thick dairy product that is like yogurt
[6] Cyder = a British spelling of hard cider
[7] Reference to Klimmek's miscellaneous favor quest: Climb the Steps
[8] Máleldr = "meal-fire"
[9] "Arngeir. She is Dovahkiin, Stormcrown. She will speak (with) Paarthurnax."
[10] Kro = Sorcerer; Aar = Servant, Slave; Kaaz = Khajiit
Pre-edited by my musing maid of many names, who offered corrections on a few amusing typos March 15th, 2014.
Edited for tense, Khajiit speech patterns, grammar, spelling & punctuation (corralling of my commas) on March 14th & 16th, 2014 [courtesy of Claviculae, who prefers soaring with the dragons to slaying them].
Two things:
Firstly, I have added a small chunk of back-story to the first chapter. None of it is particularly new (most can be inferred from the dialogue in the later chapters), but it does help clear up one or two questions. I have sat on this bit for a few months and found I still think its addition is a good thing for the story arc, so here it is.
Second, I know my once a month updates seem few and far between but if you are still reading and enjoying this story I encourage you to let me know!