Unlucky Dovahkiin - How I Learned To Start Worrying And Hate My Fate

by Some Random Shitty Rambler

Kneeling at the executioner's block, about to be killed by his own people for the crime of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, Marius was starting to question his fate. This viewpoint was really not helped when the first Dragon seen in Tamriel in eons came down and almost burned him. Slow silly story with terribly-executed Dovahkiin/Harem, finally completed.

21. The Chapter Where Questions Are Answered

Chapter 21 - The Chapter Where Questions Are Answered In A Manner That Only Raises More Questions

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""The Shout used to defeat Alduin"? Where did you learn of that? Who have you been talking to?" Arngeir impatiently demanded to know upon hearing my request for information, and not for the first time I found myself wondering where the true allegiance of all the groups supposedly made to assist the Dragonborns really lay. Fortunately, my companions, save Lydia, had agreed to my request to head back to Solitude and try to assess how bad my situation was politically, with both Elenwen and Elisif knowing of my actions; I doubted their patience would have held, watching me undergo such treatment a second time around. As it stood, however, Serana and Jordis were back in Haafingar, and Lydia was standing guard outside High Hrothgar, leaving only me to deal with the angry Greybeard.

"Does it matter?" I asked cautiously, studying the spokesperson of the Greybeards. I'd never seen him like this before; even his prior instructions had at least held the facade of respect. This time, however, I sensed impatience, anger, and even a tinge of fear. By the looks of it, he was having suspicions about who I'd been working with, and was either scared of them, or scared of interacting with them.

"Yes. For matters of such gravity, we need to know where you stand. Or who you stand with." Arngeir interrupted my thoughts pointedly, and I got the hint; clearly, Delphine's dislike of the Greybeards was more than reciprocated. Keeping with my resolve to not mention the Blades, I instead tried a more diplomatic approach, and gave a half-truth: "It was recorded on Alduin's Wall."

Unfortunately, Arngeir was apparently more versed in the lore behind Alduin's Wall than I'd expected, for he quickly exclaimed: "The Blades! Of course. They specialize in meddling in matters they barely understand. Their reckless arrogance knows no bounds. They have always sought to turn the Dragonborn from the path of wisdom. Have you learned nothing from us? Would you simply be a tool in the hands of the Blades, to be used for their own purposes?"

"We're just allies of mutual convenience and goal; all they want is to defeat Alduin. Surely you want the same thing?" I said defensively, not bothering to insult his intelligence by even trying to lie. I didn't like how he'd called me a puppet, but what really struck me was how close his remarks were to my silent concerns, that the Blades were really using me. Unfortunately, I'd apparently said the wrong thing, for Arngeir doubled down on his angry rant: "What I want is irrelevant. 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."

Needless to say, his response stunned me. Sure, he was wrapping his words in cryptic wise-sounding words, but he was honestly lucky I'd asked Lydia not to come in with me; by the sound of his bullshit, he was actually willing to let the world end, rather than actually help me, the one he'd crowned "Ysmir of the North", all because of some petty feud between him and the Blades. Besides, even if his words had merit, and destiny had already decreed that the world was to end, that didn't mean that I had to lie down and accept it; my entire existence up until now was defying odds, luck, and the very fates. I was, however, less impulsive than Lydia, and rather than even consider hitting him out of anger, I merely asked him, in a cold tone: "So you won't help me?"

It seemed, at least, that I hadn't been the only one unamused by his statement; he had only begun saying: "No. Not now. Not until-" before another Greybeard, one I recognized as Master Einarth, chastised him, and the foundations of High Hrothgar shook once more, and Lydia burst through the door with her sword raised, as he said: "Arngeir, Rok los Dovahkiin, Strundu'ul. Rok fen tinvaak Paarthurnax."

In the awkward aftermath, as I tried to signal to Lydia that everything was fine, Arngeir apologized to me: "Forgive me. I was... intemperate. I allowed my emotions to cloud my judgement. Master Einarth reminded me of my duty. The decision whether or not to help you is not mine to make.

"So, can you teach me this Shout?" I asked hopefully, glad that progress was finally being made, and Arngeir shook his head, and admitted: "No. I cannot teach it to you because I do not know it. It is called "Dragonrend," but its Words of Power are unknown to us. We do not regret this loss. Dragonrend holds no place within the Way of the Voice."

"I thought you knew all the Words of Power." I said inquisitively, judging that he wasn't actually lying to me, and Arngeir explained: "But not Dragonrend. The knowledge of that Shout was lost in the time before history began. Perhaps only its creators ever knew it. But I am not the one to speak of it to you, which is for the best. It was created by those who had lived under the unimaginable cruelty of Alduin's Dragon Cult. Their whole lives were consumed with hatred for dragons, and they poured all their anger and hatred into this Shout. When you learn a Shout, you take it into your very being. In a sense, you become the Shout. In order to learn and use this Shout, you will be taking this evil into yourself."

"If the Shout is lost, how can I defeat Alduin?" I asked, refusing to give up. I may not have accepted that I was the Last Dragonborn, here specifically to fulfil the prophecy and defeat Alduin, but I had accepted that I was a Dragonborn, and held the highest chance of success. Also, this wasn't the first hopeless situation I'd been in, and more to the point, the way he'd acted so defensive upon hearing about Dragonrend suggested that, while he didn't know it, he knew of someway to learn it.

"Only Paarthurnax, the master of our order, can answer that question, if he so chooses." There it was; the only question left was why he hadn't wanted me to find out about it. That could wait, though; I finally had an opening. In a matter-of-fact tone, I seized the initiative, and said: "I need to speak to Paarthurnax, then."

"You weren't ready. You still aren't ready." Arngeir shot back, before sighing, and admitting: "But thanks to the Blades, you now have questions that only Paarthurnax can answer. Come. We will teach you a Shout to open the way to Paarthurnax."

"I need a Shout to get to him?" I asked in disbelief, as he led me to the courtyard, and he answered: "Oh, yes. He lives in seclusion on the very peak of the mountain. He speaks to us only rarely, and never to outsiders. Being allowed to see him is a great privilege."

Eyeing the flesh-rending cold winds beyond the courtyard stairs that led up the mountain, I shuddered, and shared a look with Lydia. I could scarcely imagine how tough this Paarthurnax was, or the mindset he possessed which had led him to inhabit such an inhospitable mountain, but, at least according to Arngeir, I had a way of getting up there. Lydia, not possessing the Voice, would probably not be able to follow me up the mountain, and we both knew it. Walking up to me, she dragged me to a private corner of the courtyard (the Greybeards were more than happy to give us time, judging by how they all looked away and huddled around a small fire), and began: "Look, my Thane..."

"Don't worry, don't worry." I flashed my best Oblivion-may-care grin and tried to reassure her, not wanting another lecture just before I was due to meet Paarthurnax. "I'm pretty sure I can't possibly get into any trouble at the top of the deserted mountain, right?"

That elicited a small chuckle and a light punch on my shoulder from my protective Housecarl, but as her face became serious again I subconsciously gulped; her lack of sarcastic snarking told me this was probably a heavy topic. Eventually, while I was trying to keep my eyes from being drawn and sucked into my Housecarl's (I'd never gazed at her at such distances before, and I found it hard to avoid being captivated by her beauty), she finally answered: "It's because it's you that I'll always worry, my Thane. If you need aid, I'll rush up the mountain for you, no matter what."

Touched by her words, I patted her on the head, even as I tried not to retort at what I could only interpret as a jab at my bad luck, and tried to change the subject: "Look, Lydia... when this is all over, what's say you and I go on a private adventure, just the two of us, okay? It'll be just like the old days, before we got caught up in all the Dawnguard nonsense. You did say you always wanted a Thane who would let you adventure, right?"

She perked up slightly at my suggestion, and I mused that, death-or-glory Nord warrior woman archetype that she was, Lydia was still just a woman, and had to have some adventures that didn't have the fate of Tamriel as the stakes to wind down. So did I, for that matter. I wasn't able to alleviate all of her fears, though, and as she buried her face into my chest, she declared: "It's a promise, then. I'll be right here, waiting for you to come down, no matter how long it takes. An adventure planned by my Thane... I look forward to it already."

"Hey, now..." I said, trying to back away, but she held on tight. "No need to raise those expectations that much; you're putting too much pressure on me."

"I've always had high expectations of you, my Thane." Lydia laughed into my chest, before she released me, and said: "Now go, and don't do anything I wouldn't let you do. And you'd better pick a destination with very nice scenery; I've got something I'd like to tell you when this is all over."

"I'll try my best." I called back over my shoulder, before I went over to where the Greybeards were still huddled over the fire, learned the Shout "Clear Skies", and blew away the bone-chilling winds, before I stepped through the arch that marked the nominal boundary between High Hrothgar and the Throat of the World. I hadn't expected any of that from Lydia, to be sure, even though she'd been my companion in Skyrim for the longest time, but I honestly couldn't say I was against her behaviour. It was a welcome change from the usual lectures, even though I knew implicitly she was only looking out for me, and the last time her unexpected side had surfaced I'd enjoyed a nice evening (and view) in a hot spring, followed by my first night in an actual bed in quite a while. It hadn't been her fault the trip had been ruined by a sudden dragon attack, and the dragon that had done it had been punished. Even as I quickly dispatched a few ice wraiths, and ascended further up the mountain, I tried to think of nice locales that my Housecarl would enjoy, wanting to return the pleasant surprise she'd sprung on me. It had to be as close to perfect as I could feasibly get, a suitable reward for my oldest friend in Skyrim, and the chances of combat had to be as close to zero as I could make it. Not that I believed my luck could really make even a simple stroll into mortal peril (my luck was bad, but there were limits), but it didn't hurt to be on the safe side.

Unfortunately (and perfectly naturally, sadly), I was soon forced to revise my assessment of my luck, as I finally reached the top of the mountain, and was immediately greeted by the beating of heavy wings, and the sight of a clearly-ancient dragon (tattered wings, dull-colored body, slightly chipped horns and spikes, etc.) swooping down, before it landed right in front of me, and said: "Drem Yol Lok. Greetings, wunduniik. I am Paarthurnax. Who are you? What brings you to my strunmah... my mountain?"

Cursing the Greybeards for neglecting to mention that Paarthurnax had been a dragon, I found myself musing that Arngeir's anger upon hearing I'd been in contact with the Blades suddenly made a lot more sense, even if it still grated at me; the Blades were pretty fanatical dragonslayers, and the Grand Master of the Greybeards was, apparently, a dragon. Still, they could have at least trusted me with the information. Looking him in the eye (easy enough for me, when his eyes were about as big as my head), I did my best to project confidence, and hide the fact my hypothermia-induced shivering with a simple, sarcastic, unimpressed: "I wasn't expecting you to be a dragon."

"I am as my father Akatosh made me. As are you... Dovahkiin." Paarthurnax answered, in a matter-of-fact tone, and before I could ask how he knew who I was, he continued: "Tell me. Why do you come here, volaan? Why do you intrude on my meditation?"

"I need to learn the Dragonrend Shout." I said, deciding to get to the point; while I doubted the old dragon actually had anything to do on the top of this mountain, pissing off the meditating dragon while I was on his home turf seemed like a bad idea. Also, I was slowly losing feeling in my fingers, and didn't want to prolong the discussion. "Can you teach me?"

"Drem. Patience. There are formalities which must be observed, at the first meeting of two of the dov." Paarthurnax answered, before he turned to face the broken Word Wall, and elaborated: "By long tradition, the elder speaks first. Hear my Thu'um! Feel it in your bones. Match it, if you are Dovahkiin!"

"YOL TOOR SHUL!" Paarthurnax Shouted, and a jet of fire flew from his mouth onto the Word Wall, far brighter and stronger than that of any dragon I'd faced so far. As the gout of fire finally died down, I saw the typical scratch-like symbols of the Dragon Language now etched on the Word Wall, just like how the Greybeards had etched the words of their Shouts onto the floor of High Hrothgar. Turning back to me, he motioned towards it with his head, and said: "A gift, Dovahkiin. Yol. Understand Fire as the dov do."

Approaching the glowing symbols on the still-hot Word Wall, I learned the three Words of Power that made up the Shout Paarthurnax had just used, in the same manner as I did most Words I'd encountered. Paarthurnax then nodded at me, granting me his understanding of the Words as the Greybeards did, and said in a pleased voice: "Now, show me what you can do. Greet me not as mortal, but as dovah!"

"YOL TOOR SHUL!" I Shouted back at him, as I'd seen him do, and from my mouth a massive wave of fire flew, more like a fireball than a stream of fire (I supposed I lacked the lung capacity to maintain it as the dragons did), which eventually impacted into the old dragon, and made him stagger backwards, as though struck by a battering ram. Before I could express concern, however, he laughed gleefully, and exclaimed: "Aaah... yes! Sossedov los mul. The Dragonblood runs strong in you. It is long since I had the pleasure of speech with one of my own kind."

Pausing to casually spit out a mouthful of blood, he lifted off with surprising strength and grace for his size and age, and perched himself on the Word Wall in a manner I presumed was more comfortable for him. He then eyed me with something almost akin to respect, and continued: "So. You have made your way here, to me. No easy task for a joor... mortal. Even for one of Dovah Sos. Dragonblood. What would you ask of me?"

"Can you teach me the Dragonrend Shout?" I repeated, and he sighed, saying: "Ah. I have expected you. Prodah. You would not come all this way for tinvaak with an old dovah. No. You seek your weapon against Alduin."

"The Greybeards didn't want me to come at all." I admitted to him, and he laughed and shook his head, before replying easily: "Hmm. Yes. They are very protective of me. Bahlaan fahdonne. But I do not know the Thu'um you seek. Krosis. It cannot be known to me. Your kind - joorre - mortals - created it as a weapon against the dov… the dragons. Our hadrimme, our minds cannot even… comprehend its concepts."

"How can I learn it, then?" I asked, refusing to give up.

"Drem. All in good time. First, I have a question for you. Why do you want to learn this Thu'um?" Paarthurnax replied in response, and I paused momentarily. His question hadn't exactly been unexpected; he'd been asking me philosophical questions non-stop since I'd arrived, after all. The answer came to me easily, but I didn't understand why he'd asked the question. Eventually, I just settled for the simple truth: "I need to stop Alduin, I guess?"

Paarthurnax nodded thoughtfully, and countered: "Yes. Alduin... Briinah. The elder sister. Gifted, grasping and troublesome, as is so often the case with firstborn. But why? Why must you stop Alduin?"

Now that question caught me off guard, and I took a long pause to think. Why was I, Marius, former thief-turned-legionnaire, fighting against the physical manifestation of the apocalypse, in a land I barely knew, and had kept trying to kill me? Was it because of some ancient prophecy, some path destiny had specifically picked out for me? I scoffed at the idea; I'd spent the past month or two overturning the prophecy that would have had Serana killed, Auriel's Bow desecrated, the Sun extinguished, and vampires reigning supreme across Tamriel. And I'd spent more than enough time spiting and griping at destiny and fate as it was. Was it for the countless innocents that would perish if Alduin won? I doubted it, seeing as how I was still the unscrupulous self-serving Marius (at least, I thought I was).

My thoughts then turned towards my companions, who'd slowly joined me as I'd adventured, and survived, through Skyrim. Serana, who had fought for centuries against her own family to be free of her fate, for the sake of Tamriel. Mjoll, the Thane I'd met by chance, who'd helped me attain compensation and power in Solitude, whether I'd wanted most of it or not. Jordis, the newest addition to the team, everyone's innocent, naive, gullible little sister, even Serana's, who we felt the need to protect from those who'd trick her, yet held a sort of charm that'd been key in cozying up to the powerful, paranoid, and/or arrogant. And I thought of Lydia, my oldest companion, who'd been with me from the outset, back when few, if any, had heard of me, and her sarcastic yet respectful tone. The way I'd woken up after that first, fateful fight to find her by my bedside. If the world ended, I wouldn't be able to keep the promise I'd just made to her. Self-serving as I was, there were still people I'd wanted to protect, and when I made a promise I kept it. More importantly, as an inhabitant of the world, if it ended, I'd die, too, which was not ideal for me in the least. Finally, I had my answer.

"I like this world. I don't want it to end." Namely because of the individuals that inhabited it, most importantly me.

Paarthurnax chuckled as he heard my simple response, and admitted: "Pruzah. As good a reason as any. There are many who feel as you do, although not all. Some would say that all things must end, so that the next can come to pass. Perhaps this world is simply the Egg of the next kalpa? Lein vokiin? Would you stop the next world from being born?"

"The next world will have to take care of itself." I said firmly with a shrug, and Paarthurnax's chuckle turned into full-fledged laughter. "Paaz. A fair answer. Ro fus... maybe you only balance the forces that work to quicken the end of this world. Even we who ride the currents of Time cannot see past Time's end... Wuldsetiid los tahrodiis. Those who try to hasten the end, may delay it. Those who work to delay the end, may bring it closer."

"But you have indulged my weakness for speech long enough." Paarthurnax continued, effectively ending the philosophical discussion. "Krosis. Now I will answer your question. Do you know why I live here, at the peak of the Monahven – what you name Throat of the World?"

"Dragons like mountains, I guess?" I hazarded a guess, and he grinned, before shaking his head, and answering: "True. But few now remember that this was the very spot where Alduin was defeated by the ancient Tongues. Vahrukt unslaad... perhaps none but me now remember how she was defeated."

"Using the Dragonrend Shout, right?" I pressed, happy to finally be getting back on topic. Actually taking a deep look at myself, and why I did things, made me slightly uncomfortable, I would admit; I wasn't sure I'd like what I'd find. Perhaps I hadn't changed enough, and was still far too much like my old self, or perhaps I'd changed too much, and was no longer recognizable as me. More to the point, though, my numbness had spread past my fingers already, and I had resorted to casting small Flames spells continuously underneath my gauntlets to keep myself from freezing.

"Yes and no." Paarthurnax shot down my hopes, before elaborating: "Viik nuz ni kron. Alduin was not truly defeated, either. If she was, you would not be here today, seeking to... defeat her. The Nords of those days used the Dragonrend Shout to cripple Alduin. But this was not enough. Rek mulaag unslaad. It was the Kel – the Elder Scroll. They used it to... cast her adrift on the currents of Time."

"Are you saying the ancient Nords sent Alduin forward in time?" I asked, incredulous. Sure, I knew Elder Scrolls were items of immense, even reality-changing, power, but I could scarcely imagine them sending the World-Eater forward thousands of years. Also, how unlucky would I have to be, that she'd returned on my birthday, and the day I crossed the border into Skyrim?

"Not intentionally." Paarthurnax confirmed. "Some hoped she would be gone forever, forever lost. Meyye. I knew better. Tiid bo amativ. Time flows ever onward. One day she would surface. Which is why I have lived here. For thousands of mortal years I have waited. I knew where she would emerge but not when."

This was all fascinating, sure, but I couldn't figure out what this had to do with helping me find out the method of defeating Alduin, and asked as much, to which Paarthurnax merely explained: "Tiid krent. Time was... shattered here because of what the ancient Nords did to Alduin. If you brought that Kel, that Elder Scroll back here... to the Tiid-Ahraan, the Time-Wound... With the Elder Scroll that was used to break Time, you may be able to... cast yourself back. To the other end of the break. You could learn Dragonrend from those who created it."

"I... I think I may know where it is." I answered, as my memories of the Elder Scroll containing the secrets of dragons came unbidden to me, from it's discovery in the depths of Mzark Tower, to it's usage in the Ancestor Glade, and, finally and most recently, my sale of it to a certain blind Moth Priest, who'd been planning to head back to Cyrodiil the last I'd heard, over two weeks ago. Forcing my freezing legs to move, I rushed over to the edge of the mountain, and shouted back at the surprised Paarthurnax: "Just... give me an hour or two! I need to make sure it's still there!"

Luckily, Paarthurnax seemed too shocked by the sight of Durnehviir being Shouted out of Oblivion to do anything hostile, and as I quickly jumped on him, and made for Fort Dawnguard, I found myself praying that, just this once, my luck wouldn't really be as bad as everyone thought it was.

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Author's Note: Welp, this took a little while to get started. This chapter was, essentially, a lore/exposition dump, and thus I decided to use it as a way to give Lydia and Marius some moments, as well as let him try to piece together the "why" of his actions; he's not the push-over the base game's Dragonborn is, who just does quests because he's controlled by a player. Hence, I decided to actually take a look at his motivations, and how they've changed from the start. This chapter was a slight pain in the ass, namely because I had to keep translating the dialogue Paarthurnax says, figure out when he's using male pronouns, and change it to female pronouns.

Translations:

Arngeir, Rok los Dovahkiin, Strundu'ul. Rok fen tinvaak Paarthurnax. - Arngeir. He is Dragonborn, Stormcrown. He will talk, Paarthurnax.

Drem Yol Lok - Greetings (lit. translation: Peace Fire Sky)

Wunduniik - Traveller

Strunmah - Mountain

Volaan - Intruder

Drem - Patience

Yol Toor Shul - Fire Inferno Sun

Sossedov los mul - Blood of Dragons is strong

Dovah Sos - Dragon Blood

Prodah - Foretold

Tinvaak - Conversation

Bahlaan fahdonne - Worthy friends

Krosis - Pardon (lit. translation: Sorrow)

Hadrimme - Minds

Briinah - Sister

Pruzah - Good

Lein vokiin - World unborn

Paaz - Fair

Ro fus - Balanced forces

Wuldsetiid los tahrodiis - Whirlwind of Time is treacherous

Vahrukt unslaad - Memory unending

Viik nuz ni kron - Defeat but not victory

Rek mulaag unslaad - Her strength (is) unending

Meyye - Fools

Tiid bo amativ - Time flows (ever) onwards

Tiid krent - Time shattered

Tiid-Ahraan - Time-Wound