Galleia trembled, trying to contain her rage. Arngeir had been distant since he learned of her conversations with the Blades, but he seemed to warm up somewhat after Alduin's death. Completely ignoring her was unprecedented.

The Dragonborn closed her eyes and stood still as a statue. The only thing that betrayed the life in her body was the torrential shaking of her balled up fists. As the minutes passed, the shaking slowly calmed. She sighed and ran a hand through her white-blonde hair. She couldn't let this stop her. If the Greybeards were not going to help her, she would simply have to drive off the apprentice on her own. Galleia pulled open one of the heavy oaken doors and stepped into the Monastery.

Vincent

Vincent let his mind wander as he was escorted down a hallway by a stone-faced Greybeard, thousands of thoughts dancing through his head. The monks had treated him to a morning meal, but conversation had been sparse to say the least. Was he free to go? Would he be kept as a prisoner? Or would some horrible death soon fall upon him? When he arrived to his small room, an indecipherable glance from Borri was his only response. However, Vincent had never been a coward and leaving was most certainly inappropriate. He decided to wait for a solid confirmation of his fate.

Upon entrance to the niche that had been his home the previous night, it seemed as if it would be his shelter for the day as well; Vincent sat upon the stone platform that the monks of the monastery liked to call beds. He scooted back and pulled his legs up, crossing them as he folded his hands together and bowed his head. Within minutes the aspiring apprentice had cleared his mind and entered a meditative state.

As he meditated upon his lightly padded stone bed, he quickly and efficiently divided the happenings of the previous day and his emotions for separate examination. The Dovahkiin had obviously been touched by some dark magic, given her reaction to his touch. And because of this reaction, the Greybeards were now suspicious of his intentions. Soon after being escorted to his room the night before, he had felt the magical flux in the world around him that only happened when a dragon well and truly dies. What little he had seen of the Greybeards since then had given him the impression that something was terribly wrong.

Before he could get to dissecting the emotional half of the past day, he became aware of the shift of light in his room. Opening his eyes, he discovered several hours had passed, and it seemed to be almost midday. He knew any hope of spending the rest of the day in this peace was folly. No doubt the young Dragonborn would soon burst through the monastery, looking to remove him from this holy mountain. Vincent decided the best course of action was to continue with his meditation, and prepare for the worst.

He stood up from his bed when he heard the creaking of the large door at the back of the sanctuary. The brothers of the monastery had never once exited through those doors during the course of this day, meaning that his fate was swiftly approaching in the form of an extremely powerful and extremely angry young adventurer. His only hope was that the brothers might stop her. However, he couldn't be sure that the Greybeards wanted him in one piece, much less alive. His hopes of joining their ranks had long since diminished into nothing, and had instead been replaced with the simple hope that he might live. He knew that he must atone for his past sins, must balance the wrongs he had done in his many years, but would dying for those sins at the hands of the Dragonborn be acceptable?

His thoughts were interrupted when the Dragonborn stormed up the stairs that led from the Greybeards' collective sleeping chambers. He quickly eliminated any emotions that may have been showing on his face and steeled himself for whatever may happen.

"Hello Dragonborn. Have you come as judge or executioner?"

Galleia

Galleia's frown deepened at the sight of the obviously unperturbed man who was perched lightly upon the edge of his small stone platform. His milky cataract eyes watched her calmly, and his long fingered hands were clasped demurely upon his lap. It was only the slight tightness around his wizened eyes that showed any signs of the stress he must have been feeling.

"Unfortunately," she said, as she took a temporary seat upon the corner of a nearly empty bookshelf, "I come as neither. Although, I have heard that I do quite well at the job of executioner." Thoughtfully, she watched his face for any type of reaction. A minute tightening of his jaw had her lips rising into a smirk. Hopefully it shouldn't be too hard to convince him to leave, since the consequences of staying seemed to multiply by the minute.

A small voice at the back of her head was whispering that she never acts like this, that she should stop and think. That voice was promptly squashed by the louder voice screaming that this man who makes her think of the past must leave. The sooner he was gone, the sooner she could return to Paarthurnax and make sure he's alright. At that thought she sighed and stood from the wooden shelf, slipping into lecture mode, trying to treat him as just another disobedient student from her days as arch-mage.

"I'm going to make this quick and simple. I do not want you here. Your aura stinks with death, and being near your magic is like swimming through congealed blood. I have much bigger things to attend to than a corrupt magician within this sanctuary. So I ask this only once, and I expect compliance. You will leave this place, and never come back so long as I may live. Do you understand?" Her tone demanded obedience, and her pure white eyes were as cold as the glaciers of Winterhold. The aspiring brother, however, seemed less than impressed.

"I believe I shall wait until the Greybeards have made their own decision… Unless, of course, they have already made one." Galleia narrowed her eyes at him. What game was he playing? There was no way for him to know about Arngeir's decision. She didn't realize her mistake until a smile spread across his face. He had been watching her face as closely as she had watched his own. She had given herself away. "I shall leave once the Greybeards have come and asked me to do so themselves."

Galleia's face twisted into a vicious snarl, anger rising up in her chest like a coiled serpent. She spun around towards the hallway, storming towards the entrance hall and trying her best not to stomp about like a petulant child. If she stayed near that man's smarmy smirk and vicious aura much longer she was going to snap. She may not be on the best terms with the Greybeards at the moment, but it would not be a good idea to directly disobey their decision and kill their new apprentice. She was already pushing the boundaries of her reach by demanding the apprentice to leave. She stopped in the middle of the entrance hall, attempting to regain control of her emotions and reorganize her thoughts. As she closed her eyes and tilted her head back, she was so concentrated on her attempt to relax her jaw that she almost mistook the sound of breaking glass for the grinding of her own teeth. Her eyes shot open and she emitted a scream of surprise and pain as an arrow embedded itself deep into her right arm, shards of glass sparkling in the sunlight as they fell to the sanctuary floor.

Tin's AN: Holy shit! A new chapter! Could it be? Yes! I didn't drive Kit to suicide with our last adventure in Google Docs! This chapter was put off for 2.5 years but god dammit we finished it. There's hopefully much more to come in the near future until college swallows our lives once again, so hopefully it won't be another ridiculous wait. Thanks for your patience!

Kit's A/N: Truthfully, I had this whole chapter written and then my Microsoft deleted it. I kind of lost the will to write after that, sorry. I tried to rewrite a few of the earlier chapters, but it just didn't work out, and then college started. But hey, here I finally am. Thanks to everyone who actually takes to the time to read this after I've been such a disappointment so far. Hopefully this won't happen again. Thank you all so much.

Tin's AN, Part 2: That's adorable and much more touching than anything I could manage to write. Y'all rock.