F I N A

When she awoke in the morning, she could hear foreign voices in the distance, echoing and bouncing down the hall towards her. Immediately, the hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention and she sat up.

Ulfric was already awake, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling on his boots. He had heard the voices too, for he took pause and glanced towards the door. Esbern was gone, and Arik was still peacefully asleep.

Fina stretched, stiff and tired from her lack of sleep the night before. Her legs and feet were aching, but she imagined she should be used to it by now. She reached over to dig through her pack, and then struggled to pull on her warm fur-lined leggings discreetly under the blankets.

"Uncle?" She said softly.

He looked at her and nodded gruffly, pulling on his final boot and standing up. As was customary at peace talks, he left his sword with his pack. Fina shrugged on her bear's head cape and followed him out into the hall, leaving Arik behind.

In the main hall, she could see a swirl of red - the Imperials had arrived. Ulfric's bulk kept her from seeing much more, and he was planted on the spot, hands balled into fists. He was an immovable wall of muscle and fur.

Fina pushed lightly at his back, trying to get him to move. He was shaking. Well, she hadn't been expecting him to have quite that reaction to seeing Tullius.

Sighing, Fina pushed around him with some force, pausing when she could see who had arrived. She could make out General Tullius, Legate Rikke, and Jarl Elisif. However, there was also a strangely dressed Altmer that Fina didn't recognise.

The Altmer woman wore elegant long robes of gold-trimmed blue, emblazoned with the Imperial emblem. Her expression was fierce and emotionless - even for one of her kind - and she looked remarkably fresh and put together considering the journey she'd just made. Fina frowned.

Arngeir was greeting them, offering to show them to their rooms so they could refresh themselves and take a meal.

"Who is the High Elf, Uncle?" She asked softly.

When he didn't respond, Fina turned her gaze to him. His face was as white as snow, and sweat was dripping down his forehead and cheeks. Ulfric's trembling was nearly visible now, and his eyes were massive and round - so distant and lost that Fina hardly recognised him.

"Uncle?" She touched his arm, but still he didn't look at her.

Just as the Imperial party were following Arngeir to turn down the opposite hall, the Altmer looked at them. When she noticed Ulfric, she raised her hand and gave a small wave, lips turning up in the smallest of smiles. Fina despised the dark look she saw in her eyes.

When they disappeared from sight, Ulfric nearly collapsed. He gasped as if he had just come up for air and clutched at the wall.

"Uncle, what is it?" Fina put one of his arms around her shoulders so she could support him, helping him to sit on the edge of a nearby planter which sprouted feeble looking herbs.

He shook his head, opening his mouth and closing it again several times mutely. Never in her life had Fina seen him like this before. Never. Not after any battle, not after returning from Solitude when he'd challenged Torygg, not even after Darkwater or at Helgen.

What in the name of Talos…

"Uncle!" She shook him by the shoulders gently. "Who is that woman?"

"Elenwen." He spoke her name like it was filthy, dropping it before her like a curse.

"I've never heard her name before."

If the haunted, desperate look in his eyes was anything to go by, Ulfric looked as though he may weep. At this moment, he was not a Jarl, he was not a warrior - he was not even her Uncle. He was a young man; a young man who was afraid and had been hurt. That woman, whoever she was, had hurt him.

Fina touched his cheek. "Come."

He nodded, taking a gulp of air.

Fina helped him to his feet and they went to the temple. They sat in one of the pews, and she took his hand, sitting quietly while he stared at the ground.

This seems to be a room for important conversations.

Finally, he started to speak.

"I have not spoken often of the Great War." The words were soft, and his eyes flickered back and forth, as if he were counting the stones that paved the floor. "But you know that I was captured?"

She nodded, and he continued.

"I was a young man, then. Foolish. Your age, Arik's age, about there. I see myself in you both." Ulfric's eyes flickered up to her and he tucked some hair behind her ear. "I like to think I have had a part in your raising, but truth be told, you are your Father's daughter. He was a better man than I, and you will be a better leader."

Fina opened her mouth to protest, but he waved his hand to cut her off.

"Arik is very like I was. I was a soldier by accident, Fina. It was not the life I wanted. I was meant to be a Greybeard, you know. I started here just to study - not to take the vows, not to stay indefinitely, just to learn and then to leave." Ulfric sighed, raising his eyes to look around the temple. "But this place caught me. The calmness, the quiet. Meditation. Books. Study. I was here for ten years, did I tell you that? I came here so young. I practically grew up here."

She shook her head. I had no idea.

"I had just agreed to take my vows, as Arik did, but then the war broke out. Well, with my father having been Jarl...That puts a certain amount of pressure on a young man's shoulders. So I went to war instead. I traded in my books for a sword." A small smile tugged at his lips. "Something I appear to have taken to much more easily than Arik."

Fina wasn't sure whether to laugh and agree, or despair.

"When I was captured, I had information they needed. There was a slew of people responsible for trying to get it out of me, but one who took a...shine...to me." He winced as he said it and his grip tightened on her hand. "There is no point in dancing around it, Fina. Torture is what it was. Hours a day. I still don't truly know how long it was. Galmar seems to think it was several months, although none of us can be sure. It is not something I dwell on."

Stendarr's mercy…

"Uncle…"

He swallowed and reached up to wipe the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

"It is the woman. It is her face that is burnt into my nightmares, Fina. I feel a fool, but all my life it is something I am unable to overcome. I have killed hundreds. Seen things no man should. But that is what sticks."

Fina brought his hand to her lips. "I could speak to Arngeir. Surely she has no place here!"

"I have little hope I will be able to talk peace while she sits across the table."

She sighed and let his hand go. "I will see what can be done. Rest here awhile."

Ulfric nodded his thanks and she left him to recover, her own rage boiling within her. To think that anyone had done such things to her Uncle was bad enough, but that the very person who had done them was now here, under the same roof? And she was bound under an agreement of temporary peace not to harm them?

This will be maddening, I have no doubt.

A hand caught her around the wrist and swung her around. Still in her cloud of anger, she nearly turned and struck them.

Arik ducked before the blow could hit.

"Arik!" Fina gasped. "By the Nine!"

He looked at her with wide eyes. "Who were you expecting?"

She pressed a hand over her racing heart and shook her head. "I'm sorry."

"Is everything okay?"

"The Imperials have only brought the woman with them who tortured my Uncle during the Great War." She leaned in so she could keep her voice as quiet as possible.

"Truly?"

Fina nodded. "I've never seen him so upset in my entire life."

"What are you going to do?"

"Ask Arngeir if anything can be done."

Arik gave her a look that showed he was as skeptical as she felt.

"I have little hope, too." She sighed, and he pressed a quick kiss to her brow.

"No sign of Mejel or Balgruuf?"

"Not yet. Will you come with me?"

"Of course."

They found Arngeir in the kitchen, preparing some food for the Imperials.

"Ah, good morning." He greeted absently, gesturing for Einarth to dish out bowls of porridge.

"Arngeir, do you know the Altmer woman the Imperials brought with them?"

"She is an advisor to General Tullius I believe, why do you ask?" He hardly glanced up, as he was busy readying some tea.

"The matter is rather sensitive." Fina shifted nervously.

"These things normally are." Arngeir sent Wulfgar and Einarth off with the breakfast and when they were alone in the kitchen, he finally gave Fina and Arik his full attention.

"She was the woman who interrogated my Uncle during his capture in the Great War. For him to see her is rather...Alarming." Fina explained.

The Greybeard sighed and sat down at the table. "I see."

"I've never seen him so unsettled by anything before." She added.

Arngeir shook his head slowly. "During these talks, each party is allowed to bring whichever advisors they see fit." He shrugged. "The Great War has come and gone...I do not mean to seem insensitive, but it is likely that Ulfric has also caused emotional damage to the Imperials, as well. Jarl Elisif, for instance. I can't imagine she is anxious to see Ulfric, either. We cannot make an exception because of something that happened twenty-five years ago."

Arik put his hands on her arms, and she knew he was reminding her to keep her temper in check. She closed her eyes, letting him take over.

"But surely it is also true that it's important for Ulfric to be mentally stable enough to actually attend the talks. Perhaps there could be a compromise. Each side takes in only two representatives. It would be unlikely Tullius would take the Altmer over Legate Rikke." Arik reasoned.

"I'm sorry, but we cannot change the rules now. You can raise the motion when the talk opens, but not before then. Elenwen is at least allowed to arrive at the meeting. Beyond that, you can ask she leave, but the Imperials do not have to oblige."

Fina shook her head. "This puts us at a serious disadvantage."

"There is nothing I can do, I'm afraid."

Arik's hands ran up and down her arms and she clamped her jaw shut, staring at Arngeir and knowing he was right and that there really was nothing he could do. He had to remain neutral. He couldn't pick a side.

He isn't on our side. He isn't on any side.

"Thank you." Arik spoke for her, and lead her out of the kitchen.

Fina truly wanted to bury her sword in something. Instead, she kicked absently at a pot and sent it falling onto it's side with a satisfying clang.

"I am not eager to break this to him." She groaned, watching as Arik bent to right the pot.

That might sum up our entire romance. She thought of the gesture, and then caught herself smiling a little at the comparison.

"You do not have to. I won't give them the satisfaction." Ulfric came out of the hall behind them, and Fina spun to look at him. He adjusted the fur around her shoulders, and she was relieved to see he looked more like himself again - albeit a little shaken.

Arik smiled.

"I take it Fina explained?"

He nodded. "Vaguely."

"If it stayed between the three of us, I would very much appreciate it."

"Of course, Jarl Ulfric."

Ulfric patted him on the back and pushed open the kitchen door. "I'm going to need some sustenance if I'm to be any shade of agreeable this morning." He stepped inside, leaving Arik and Fina alone again.

"Well, then." Fina said quietly.

Arik shrugged, and then turned as the main doors opened. In walked Mejel, closely followed by Jarl Balgruuf and his Housecarl, Irileth.

Forgetting any form of proper decorum, Fina launched herself down the steps, across the floor and straight into her cousin's arms. He dropped his pack and caught her, nearly falling back out the doors.

"Sweet Talos, you've gained weight." He complained, setting her back on her feet. "Or perhaps it is the giant bear you've grown from your back!"

Fina laughed, hitting him on the arm and taking a step back to examine him. He was not wearing any of his Markarth colours, and, in fact, he looked a little as if he'd recently been in battle.

Balgruuf and Irileth stared at them in confusion.

"Well, I never…" She heard the Dunmer mutter as Arik and Arngeir came to join them.

"You look rough, cousin." She told him, taking his pack from the ground and slinging it over her own shoulder. "Have they run out of food in Markarth?"

"Ah...well." His expression turned grim for a moment, but then something caught his eye over her shoulder and he looked up. "Jarl Ulfric." He dropped into a bow.

"Mejel!" Ulfric came down the steps and embraced him as well, but the same concern touched her Uncle's features. "What news? Where is Raerek?"

"We should speak...in private."

Fina ushered them all back towards the temple, allowing Arngeir to settle Balgruuf and Irileth.

Mejel cast a wary eye on Arik, but didn't ask any questions. Fina didn't have time to explain - it wouldn't be long now before they'd be called into the talks.

"For months now there have been rumours of Forsworn activity in Markarth." Mejel started. Arik fetched him some tea and bread from the kitchen, and he accepted it gratefully. "Murders, vandalism, attacks on the roads, that sort of thing."

"Understandable, after the Markarth Incident." Ulfric put in.

Mejel nodded. "They had Madanach - that Forsworn leader - locked up in the Cidhna Mine. But he tunneled out, him and a small army he'd been building. They took us by surprise. Killed most of my men in the night before we'd even known what'd happened." He frowned, pausing. "The other half of my men were in on it. I had no idea."

Fina gasped, and stood from her place beside him, starting to pace.

"The whole of Markarth is run with Forsworn. They were killing men, women, children. Anyone who opposed them. It is completely under their control now. Mother and Father fled with the Silver-Blood family. They got me as far as Whiterun." His voice was bitter. "I thought I knew the city well. I thought I had a grip on it. I could not have been more wrong."

Ulfric cursed under his breath, no doubt realising he had lost what little bargaining power he'd had over Markarth.

They all sat quietly for a moment.

"At least this means that the Imperials will not put up much of a fight for Markarth." She shrugged. "We've pushed the Forsworn out of Markarth once, why not again? They've barely even set down their roots this time."

Her Uncle watched her, and when he spoke his voice was stern. "It is a needless sacrifice of men."

"It's a source of valuable silver, silver that can be used to sway the loyalty of men." Fina retorted.

"Not to mention, Jarl Ulfric, that if we claim the city, you can make Thongvor Jarl. With the Silver-Bloods in power, we gain a lot of support and strength in the Reach." Mejel interjected. "I will lead the takeover, my Jarl. It is my fault that this has happened. I have let you down and I vow that I will make this right again."

Ulfric rested his hand on Mejel's shoulder. "I do not place the blame for this on your shoulders, Mejel. We will do what we can to get Markarth from the Imperials, and then from the Forsworn."

Arngeir arrived in the doorway.

"It is time."

xxxxx

The atmosphere in the meeting room was tense, to say the least. When they were seated around the table, Arngeir stood at the head, going over the basic etiquette for the talks.

Everyone was the stay seated, there was to be no shouting, no slander, and no violence. Once everyone had agreed, he took his seat.

"I believe the first order of business should be her presence." Ulfric jabbed a finger across the room at Elenwen. "What is an interrogator from the Great War doing here?"

Elenwen crossed her arms defensively and sneered at him. "Whatever my role in the Great War, I am now an Imperial advisor."

"She is here because I want her here." Tullius said dismissively. "Don't we have more important things to discuss than my choice of company?"

Irileth and Balgruuf exchanged a look and Fina had to prevent herself from glaring at them. The sound of Elenwen's voice set her on edge, and her entire body was rigid with anxious energy. It was all she could do to stop herself from imagining exactly what that woman had done to her Uncle.

"Very well." Ulfric replied tightly, and Fina pressed her hand against his arm, knowing it was taking just about all of his energy not to bolt across the table and throttle the Altmer.

To be so close to her and have to do nothing…

"We should discuss Markarth, then." He said instead, looking over to Mejel.

Mejel jumped in, recounting his story of the Forsworn and their takeover of Markarth. General Tullius and Legate Rikke whispered something to each other. Jarl Elisif looked at them as if she were trying to hear, but they carefully left her out of whatever was said.

Before either of the Imperials could comment, Ulfric broke in.

"We would like to trade Dawnstar for Markarth."

Tullius sputtered.

"And here I thought were we attending peace talks!" Rikke laughed sourly, shaking her head. "I should have expected that you were actually calling us here to try and gain land that you failed to claim in fair battle."

The General waved for her to be quiet and eyed up the Jarl. "You expect us to give up the largest silver supply in Skyrim? For Dawnstar?"

"Dawnstar has it's advantages. It's mines, it's port. It's generous lack of Forsworn." Ulfric feigned nonchalance, going as far as leaning back casually and examining his nails.

Tullius glared at him and Fina shifted uncomfortably. Her Uncle kept up the act, and after an awkward silence, the Imperials bowed into quiet discussion.

"If we agree, we want one shipment of silver a month from Markarth until the war is won." Tullius sat tall in his chair. Ulfric mirrored his posture, serious again.

"Done."

Fina relaxed, letting out a breath she hadn't been aware she was holding. Arik also seemed to loosen his posture beside her. Esbern, to his left, was furiously scribbling notes. She glanced over at him, wondering what on Nirn it was he could be writing.

"If we're going to be discussing more than peace, perhaps we should also be seeking compensation for our losses at Karthwasten." Rikke crossed her arms, brows risen and daring Ulfric to disagree.

"For your losses at Karthwasten?" He said in a deadly low voice.

Fina had been at Karthwasten. She could still see the bodies piled, the spilled life dripping from her blade, the dirt and snow stained deep red. Everything as if it were happening in slow motion. Crying, screaming. A battle they had been instructed to fight without mercy.

She suddenly went cold and she clutched her hands into fists. Both sides lost lives, but she knew that the Imperials had been hit the hardest. It had been an ambush - no, a massacre - pure and simple.

"Yes, our losses. It was a training unit, Ulfric! Boys! Not yet soldiers. They hardly stood a chance against your men. Is that how you fight wars now? That is not how we were trained, you and I." Her voice was like a poison arrow in Fina and she dropped her head. She could feel Arik's eyes on her - questioning, concerned.

"And what of Delphine and your use of the Blades? What of that? Were we taught to impersonate ancient organisations in order to do evil?" Her Uncle leaned forward, gesturing wildly across the table at them. "You sought to capture my niece, Rikke! Capture her and torture her, and turn her into a weapon! Not just my niece, but the Dragonborn! The last hope of Tamriel against the World Eater! You would keep her from that destiny and instead turn her as a sword against me."

Fina glanced up at him, and then looked across to Rikke. She knew the two had served together during the Great War, but it sounded almost as if there were true hurt in his voice. Surely…

But no, there was only anger on his face, and that same anger was reflected back from Rikke.

"I fail to see how any of that is different from dressing your precious niece up like a figurehead and parading her before us like a doll!"

"Enough!" Tullius cut them off. "What we used Delphine for is infiltration and reconnaissance. We had an alliance. All of which are very common in times of war. Beyond that, I believe you have put an end to her. What is the point in discussing it now?"

"The point is, the information she leaked to you has lead to the ambush of several of my base camps. Should that not make us even for any lives lost at Karthwasten?"

"I hardly think that a couple of routine ambushes will erase a full on massacre of untrained boys." Elenwen interjected in an icy tone.

Ulfric didn't acknowledge her.

"He is quite skilled in the murder of innocents, aren't you, Jarl Ulfric?"

It was Jarl Elisif who spoke, her voice shrill and quivering as it reverberated off the stone walls. All attention turned to her. She sat hugging herself, body twitching and trembling in her seat. Even Ulfric stared at her uncertainly.

"Anything from innocent young boys, training to protect their families, to the Divines-chosen High King of Skyrim. Who knows what's next? Women? Children?" She leaned forward, eyes sparkling in the candle light. Her face was so thin and ghostly. There was something about her that told Fina she had once been beautiful, but any trace of that seemed to have been leached away, sucked from her very skin.

Fina glanced at her Uncle, and his face was a solid mask, but there was a storm in his eyes.

"I am sorry for your grievances, Jarl Elisif, but I defeated your husband in fair combat. Had the ways of old not been forsaken by the blasphemous Empire, you would see I am not the criminal they make me out to be."

"You are nothing but a monster and a murderer, Ulfric Kingkiller. Nothing but a tool for evil and cruelty."

He shook his head. "You have been lead astray and played a fool, Elisif."

Suddenly Elisif stood up, tears rolling down her cheeks as she screamed at him. "It is your fault! All of this! You have done this to us all, Ulfric! All of this death! All of this decay! It is on your shoulders! I would see your head on a stake! I would do it myself!"

"Jarl Elisif, please!" Arngeir spoke for the first time, standing and looking at her imploringly. "Control yourself!"

Her eyes were mad and red as she glared across at him. With one final shriek of frustration and - Fina suspected - sadness, she ran from the room, the slapping of her slippers against the stone echoing down the hall after her.

The rest of them sat in a stunned silence after her outburst. Ulfric moved to rub at his forehead, breath hissing through his nose. He seemed to be fighting an internal battle.

"We are here because we face a mutual threat." Jarl Balgruuf's voice was quiet and gentle. "In order to face it, we need to set our differences aside. At least until that threat has been stopped."

"You believe you can stop him then, do you, little Dragonborn?" Elenwen asked her, and Fina tried not to cringe under her gaze. She resented the blatant condescension in the elf's voice, but bared it.

"If I can capture a dragon in Whiterun." She sat taller, absently pushing at the bear's head above her own.

"And you can do that?" Tullius asked.

In all honesty, Fina still wasn't entirely sure. But she at least needed to appear sure. If not her, who could?

"Yes, of course she can." Esbern broke in impatiently. "Why else would a Dragonborn surface now, at the very moment in time when Alduin rises again? It is her destiny, and you are only getting in her way with your silly war."

They seemed to all consider this, and then turned to discuss it amongst themselves.

"So the terms are as follows," General Tullius spoke. "We give you Markarth, you give us Dawnstar, plus one shipment per month of silver from Markarth until the war is won?"

"Aye." Ulfric nodded.

Elenwen leaned over to whisper something else to Tullius. He nodded to her.

"We would also ask that when the Dragonborn travels to Whiterun, she does so without the accompaniment of a Stormcloak guard, and without boasting the Stormcloak colours. As the old Blade said, it is a common threat we are battling." He cleared his throat. "We ask she goes as a neutral party."

Fina glanced at Ulfric. She had to admit, what Tullius said made sense. If she went wearing Stormcloak blue, it would seem like the Stormcloaks had singlehandedly defeated Alduin. Although this would be a powerful message to all of Skyrim, and likely a very positive one for the Rebellion, it was not one that promoted peace.

"What say you, niece?" He asked softly.

She looked at Arik, who, judging by his expression, shared her thoughts. She nodded.

"I agree. It would make sense for me to go alone and neutral. In the spirit of peace."

"So be it." Ulfric nodded. "We agree to those terms."

"Very well." Arngeir stood up. "Markarth will fall under Stormcloak control, minus the single shipment of silver per month. Dawnstar will be given to the Imperials. Fina will travel to Whiterun as a neutral party."

"Agreed." General Tullius replied.

So it is done. Fina sighed. Staying where she was as she watched the Imperials stand from their seats and leave. Legate Rikke paused for a moment, stopping to look back at Ulfric.

"Galmar?" She asked.

"He is well."

Their eyes locked across the room, and Rikke's fingers strayed to a chain around her neck. She nodded once, and then walked out as well.

Esbern blew the ink dry on his parchment and then rolled it shut.

"What were you writing?" Fina asked him, leaning around Arik.

"Arngeir gave me their recipe for cabbage soup earlier, I have taken quite a liking to it." He shrugged nonchalantly. "I was worried I would forget it." The old man pushed himself to his feet and turned to go.

Arik chuckled.

"That went well, didn't it?" Fina asked, looking to her Uncle.

"It didn't go badly." He replied, turning to Mejel. "I have a regiment in the Reach. I will send you to them with orders and we will arrange for…"

"Dovahkiin." Arngeir called her and Fina stood up, walking across to him. "Perhaps it is time we spoke with Paarthurnax."

xxxxx

The moment Paarthurnax landed before them, Fina was sure he would swallow her whole. He glared at her through one giant iridescent eye, scaled lips drawn up to show the jagged tips of his fangs.

"Dovahkiin."

"Paarthurnax."

He grunted, blowing hot air from his nostrils. It billowed around her, blowing out her hair and robes in a heavy gust of wind. Fina closed her eyes.

"Fina has seen the error of her ways, Master, and has come to ask for our help."

"Has she indeed?" The old dragon sat back on his haunches, gathering his tattered wings around him.

"Krosis, indovah."

A rumble of laughter sounded in his chest. "Rek dreh unt. She does try."

"I was blind and mislead. I was wrong."

"Geh." He puffed another breath of warm air onto her face, but this time it was gentle. "Well, maldovah. What help do you seek?"

"I am to follow Alduin to Skuldafn, so I may fight him there."

"Geh. Such is the prophecy."

"To do that, I must know the name of a dragon who can take me there. And…" She glanced up nervously.

"Go on."

"The Shout, the one you said you would show me if you were sure of my allegiances."

"Dragonrend." Paarthurnax turned his attention to Arngeir, and waved his snout at him. "Go. Leave us."

Arngeir bowed, and turned to walk back down the mountain.

"Come." Paarthurnax pushed up from the ground, gliding towards the word wall and perching on it, his talons digging into the soft stone. Fina rested on a jagged rock below him, waiting.

"What do you intend to do with a dragon's name?"

"I plan to call it to Whiterun and capture it there, so I can convince it to take me to Skuldafn." At this point, Fina knew she had to be entirely honest with him. There was no other option - lying had brought about devastating consequences the last time.

Paarthurnax considered this for a moment, making thoughtful noises. Eventually he seemed to come to a discussion.

"Use the name Od-ah-viing. Odahviing. Snow, hunter, wing. He is close to Alduin, but his fierce sense of honour will be of use to you. He will keep to his word, you can trust that."

"Odahviing." She repeated to herself quietly. "Thank you."

He nodded his giant head. "Now, the Shout. Dragonrend." Paarthurnax hummed deep in his throat.

"It was I who first taught humans to use the Thu'um. During the Dragon War, those who were my students crafted their own Shout, Dragonrend. Joor, zah, frul. Mortal, finite, temporary. To show the dov what it means to be mortal."

He opened his eyes to look at her again, and Fina shivered.

"To you, it may not seem like a great weakness, but to the dov it is terrifying. Dragonrend forces us to land and to remain on the ground, to fight as you do. It would be the only way for you to defeat Alduin."

"Can you teach me, Paarthurnax?"

Paarthurnax hummed again, large eyes still appraising her. Fina stood up and took a few steps towards him, tentatively reaching up to rest her fingers on the hooked claw of his right wing. It was softer than she had expected, warm and she could feel his pulse.

"Will you teach me, indovah?"

The dragon dipped his head, pressing the spines of his forehead against her own. Fina fought her natural instinct to flee, and stood still. He exhaled, and as he did, the familiar whoosh of heat that normally accompanied a dragon soul consumed her, rushing through her body and making her feel weak. She stumbled back a step.

And then she could feel the Shout, unearthed in the depths of her mind. The words were ringing inside of her, like a thousand bells.

Joor Zah Frul. Joor Zah Frul. Joor Zah Frul.

"Krif voth ahkrin, Dovahkiin." The old dragon told her. "Fight bravely."

Ah, okay.

I was dreading writing all of that. I'm sorry if it's boring, this one has been a bit of a filler, too! I continued on with the ideal that the Thalmor don't exist. I know it's a bit sketchy.

Anyway, let me know what you think! :) x