21: The Way of the Voice

The fact that Lysandra had brought a visitor with her didn't seem to faze the Greybeards. She got the impression that not much did. When she and Vilkas had finally made it up the steps and to High Hrothgar, she had almost turned back around.

She had no idea what to expect and wasn't sure she wanted to know. If being Dragonborn meant headaches and passing out, as well as knocking royalty around inadvertently, she was okay with being normal.

Once inside, she had been introduced to the Greybeards, who reminded her of monks. They were quiet, except when teaching her and then they used the Voice and it was... loud.

She was introduced to them but the only one who bothered speaking properly to her was Arngeir. It was probably a good thing she hadn't formed any expectations for when she arrived because the first thing Arngeir did was inform her that her training was about to begin and then sent Vilkas off.

Vilkas spent two weeks either wandering the halls of the temple, or whatever it was, or outside exploring the mountainside. He barely seen Lysandra and when he did get a glimpse of her, he found he couldn't determine if she was alright or not.

He never smelled fear coming from her though, not that he was keeping tabs on her. He wasn't, of course not. He was just used to her scent so it was almost second nature to note things...

Exhaustion, frustration, excitement, those were what he generally read in her scent. He also heard a lot of Shouting, wondering if the Greybeards were doing it at her or vice versa.

It was peaceful, for the most part. He knew he was shirking his responsibilities to the Companions but at the same time, he felt responsible for her. Talos knew she could get into trouble within seconds if left to her own devices. There was enough evidence of that to justify locking her up for years, just for her own benefit.

After three weeks... he was ready to admit he had started losing his mind the first day they arrived. Fighting his wolf had been hard enough outside of High Hrothgar, doing it up here with little to distract him and a lot of space down mountain to roam was almost too tempting to pass up.

For the better part of three weeks, Lysandra had been dealing with minor headaches as Arngeir instructed her in the 'Way of the Voice', trying to unlock what he called 'natural talent' and she was convinced was a punishment from the Gods.

They had shared their knowledge of Unrelenting Force, which turned out to be the Shout she could partly do, when surprised or not trying too. She learned that Shouts were made up of three words, each word making the Shout stronger.

She also learned that Shout was actually Thu'um in the Dragon tongue; the words that made up the Thu'um were also Dragonese or more formerly known as Words of Power. When she had used the word 'Dragonese', Arngeir had given her a look that had instantly wiped the smile off her face.

The connection between 'searing, blacking out pain' and 'wind, noise and light only she could see' suddenly took on a whole new meaning and connection, along with the odd sensation that seemed to fill her chest when she learned a new word. Mercifully, Arngeir taught her ways to deal with those sensations so she didn't black out anymore, hopefully.

Learning them in theory and then practicing them wasn't simple or easy but she learned. Doing it under pressure was an entirely different story.

"WULD!"

Vilkas literally stumbled backwards. Not because of the Shout, after a month of being here, he had become used to hearing Lysandra practicing constantly. What made him stumble was the fact that he had been watching her from a distance and the moment the Word of Power had left her lips, she had appeared in front of him.

"Sorry!" She apologized, bending down to help him up only to be shooed away with one hand and a warning growl. The expression on his face however... she whirled away in order to hide her grin, clamping both hands over her mouth. "I didn't think-"

"Of course not." He grumbled, brushing snow off himself once he was on his feet, and looked down at her. It felt like longer than a month since he had been this close to her, passing her in the hallway and brief chats over a rushed meal –on her part- didn't seem to count. "You cut your hair." He said, growling softly at just how stupid he sounded.

"Um, yes, I did." She reached up to nervously pat at the much shorter locks, too short now for her normal braid. With the constant wind factor up here on top of the knowledge that long hair got in the way during a fight, she had used a pair of shears she had found in her tiny room and done a fairly decent hack job.

"I don't like it."

Her brown eyes narrowed at that. "Well that was nice of you."

"You shouldn't have cut it."

"I didn't realize I had to ask your permission."

"It is customary for-" Vilkas stopped himself, realizing just what he was saying and inwardly began cursing at himself. And her too, for being... her. "Forget I said anything."

All Lysandra could do was watch as he stalked away.

"I'm going to Ustengrav."

Vilkas was a bit surprised Lysandra was speaking to him. For the past three days, every time she had seen him, she had steered herself in a different direction. He was also pretty sure she had used a Shout on him because he had been walking down the steps outside and suddenly gone flying due to 'heavy winds'. "What for?"

"The horn of a dead guy, Jurgen Windcaller. Apparently he's the one who started the Greybeards." She shrugged, folding her arms over her chest and leaned back against the stone wall, staring down at him. "I figured I should tell you before I go. You can return to Jorrvaskr now."

"You don't want me to go with you?"

"You hate my hair."

Of all the things she could have said, it was that she went with and Vilkas nearly took her by the shoulders just to give her a good shake. "It's short." He said finally, letting his irritation show.

"It's practical."

"It looked better long."

She cocked an eyebrow quizzically at him, a faint hint of pink appearing on her cheeks. "That sounded suspiciously like a compliment."

"Take it as you will. When do we leave?"

"Within a day or two." Lysandra sighed, knowing trying to talk him out of coming would be only slightly less productive then banging her head against a stonewall. He felt some sort of strange obligation to her, or at least to protect her, and she was beginning to think he had been in on the Harbinger thing from day one, that would explain a lot. "I really think you should go back to Whiterun."

"Have you ever been to Ustengrav?" He challenged, eyebrows furrowing as he glared at her, wondering if she was stupid or suicidal, perhaps both.

"Somewhere east of Solitude?"

"I'm going."

"You're late."

Lysandra flashed an apologetic smile at Vilkas. Shad had woken up and gone to speak with Arngeir once more before leaving. For someone who hardly spoke, he had had quite a bit to say. "WULD!"

This time, Vilkas was prepared for her doing that, though he would admit it was still a bit odd to watch as she went from the top of the steps that led inside to where he was. This time, now that he knew what to expect, he had been able to monitor her progress, aided greatly by his wolf-enhanced abilities. "You do realize, Thu'um is not for playing?"

"Arngeir said to practice constantly."

He was seeing a lot of 'Wuld' and 'Fus Ro' in his near future.