Welcome and kind thanks to MangekyoMasta510, chess211, Shiridan, PredatorHun and WhiteCat2011 for your favourites and follows. Your support is much appreciated! And thank you to Ace of Spies for your kind review! This chapter has lots of conversation and information, but I believe that Judiiz needs it, so it is done. Enjoy!
After their perilous hike up the mountain, the summit was near unnervingly silent; the sky was clear and blue as a deathbell's tip, not a breath of wind moved and even the deep cold seemed lessened by Skyrim's bright sun.
Except the growing cold in her, Serana thought, watching snowflakes melt in her young companion's blood-curls. During the last three day's travel, Judiiz had steadily grown more introspective, distant even, despite the vampire's efforts to gently probe her mounting barriers. The days and nights had afforded them little privacy for even the smallest intimacies – a lingering touch, a meaningful glance even – but Serana suspected that not to be the cause. Travelling had allowed Judiiz time within her mind. She'd steadily grown … colder, acknowledging when she was addressed but … not completely present.
As she was now. She was standing in front of a strange updraft of icy particles, watching the surrounding air ripple. It was an anomaly, otherwise worthy of intense scrutiny and study, but she just … stood passively in front of it, lost in her own world. She did not even stir when a dragon's scream-roar rent the still air, when the draft of its great wings lifted her curls around her cold cheeks or when Serana threw herself protectively in front of her, orbs of magicka blooming in both hands.
Warmth. A distant memory almost, from the tips of her hands and feet to the beating of her heart. The last few days she'd felt herself slipping steadily away, wearing thin, until all she could feel was the cold. It had not been her intention to push her companions away. Far from it – the reunion with Rasha and their still easy sisterly manner with each other, the brief exposing of her and Serana's souls to each other and the soft caress of lips upon lips – these things had brought a fleeting reprieve from her always waiting, always insistent destiny. Until she faced it, had it run its course, how could she even begin to expect a relatively normal life, a normal love? What was she feeling? Could it be the initial stirrings of love? Was her ability to love also crushed and erased along with her virtue and dignity? She so wanted to touch Serana, to want her and be wanted, but every time those feelings were stirred, vile sensations assaulted her mind; leers, grunts of strain, of … completion, rough hands pawing at her, invading, tearing, the bite of knives, instruments, the crack and blinding agony of her bones … she shuddered and fought the urge to retch.
She was damaged, perhaps beyond redemption. She was going to her own doom to prevent the world's destruction. She should have died already, would have welcomed it even. On a certain level she knew her thinking unsound – as was the peculiar marvel of undulating air and gravity-defying snowflakes in front of her that seemed to … call to her on a level only her soul could understand. Her soul that felt so unique and … so utterly alone.
From nowhere a different, curious sensation washed over her senses. Challenge, territorial defence, the need to dominate, but it was intermingled with a curious sense of kinship and belonging. The hard-packed snow under her feet shook with the landing of a dragon – how had she not heard its approach? – she turned to see Rasha's arrow trained on it and Serana in between herself and the perceived threat. Dear Serana … but it was no threat …
"Wait!" she croaked through her dry throat. She stepped around the vehemently protesting vampire and approached the patiently waiting dragon. Its battered scales were the same grey as the nearby rock, its wings appeared frayed in places and some of its horns and spikes were sheared off, but its keen eyes contained such timeless wisdom that she was truly awed.
"Drem Yol Lok. Greetings, wunduniik," it spoke, the low powerful timbre of its voice reverberating through her.
Wunduniik – traveller, her soul automatically translated. Her eyes widened with realisation.
"You are Paarthurnax." The great dragon dipped its massive head, a brief glow of … approval? … in his eyes. Serana and Rasha cast surprised glances at her but for the moment she paid them no heed.
"Who are you? What brings you to my strunmah? My mountain?"
"You're … a dragon? Didn't expect that one!" Rasha piped up before instinctively taking a step back when the ancient creature regarded her.
"I am as my father Akatosh made me," he stated simply. His head swivelled back to Judiiz and he considered her perceptively. "As are you, Dovahkiin." Her eyes dipped down momentarily before searching his again, her chin lifting defiantly. Hmm, Dovahkiin indeed, but cold, injured within …
"Tell me, why do you come here, volaan?" he demanded suddenly. "Why do you intrude on my meditation?"
"I do not mean to intrude," she replied steadily, standing her ground. "I need to learn the Dragonrend Shout. Can you teach me?"
He hummed deeply to himself, satisfied with her lack of anxiety. "Drem, patience! There are formalities which must be observed at the first meeting of two of the dov." He turned and diverted her attention to the ancient Word Wall.
"By long tradition, the elder speaks first. Hear my Thu'um!" he bid her proudly. "Feel it in your bones! Match it if you are Dovahkiin!" Turning away from her, he inhaled deeply and roared a stream of searing dragonfire at the wall. This close it should have scared her, but she felt only peace, as though she'd come home to long-lost family. In the wake of the fire a wavering Word remained, emblazoned upon the very stone and exercising its familiar inexorable tug on her.
"The Word calls to you," Paarthurnax observed next to her in a knowing rumble. "Go to it." She found herself in front of it, not remembering how she got there and it imprinted itself on her soul, warm and longed-for. Yol – fire; to thaw the frozen landscape of her nightmare memories …
"A gift, Dovahkiin – Yol," Paarthurnax intoned and she turned to face him. "Understand fire as the dov do." The glowing tendrils of an understanding flowed between them. Interlaced with the dragon's knowledge of the Word, whether he intended it so or not, images and sensations flooded her being – sinuous forms soaring through the air majestically, instilling fear and awe on the ground, battling for dominion, worshipped and rightfully so – and her heart wept with so much gone, so many gone …
"Now, show me what you can do!" Paarthurnax' deep rumble brought her back to the present and she wiped absently at the moisture on her glowing cheeks. "Greet me not as mortal," he encouraged, setting her soul aflame, "but as dovah!" She drew deep breath, fanning the heat within her, drawing it out and allowing herself to become it, and she watched as though from outside herself as a roiling tempest of flame engulfed him.
"Aaah... yes!" he roared his approval exultantly, "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!"
Serana and Rasha were witnesses to the most unimaginable occurrence – that of their willowy companion sitting cross-legged on the snow and the massive head of possibly the second oldest dragon in existence resting next to her, the two of them conversing in muted tones. The Khajiit had searched about for smaller rocks and packed a small fireplace some distance from them, and although there was no wood to be had, a small conjured fire was providing her and her unlikely companion with much-needed warmth.
"You're quiet. Chipped a fang or something?" she broke the silence between them at last. For a moment the vampire glowered at her before her shoulders slumped slightly in defeat.
"Alright, spill it," Rasha prompted, tired of her moping and frankly tired of the way both her companions had behaved the last couple of days. Something had obviously happened between them, but it had seemed to fizzle out almost as soon as it had begun.
"You wouldn't want to hear it," Serana mumbled and was surprised when Rasha snorted derisively.
"Maybe not. Maybe I'll just tell you then."
"How could you possibly know!"
"Ohhh, let me think. You two shared something special and after the last three days it feels like it never even happened? She has moved away from everyone and you feel as if you've lost her even before you'd found her? We both stared at her googly-eyed as she breathed freakin' fire on another dragon and now we have to wait here on the wayside while the two of them cozy up and 'tinvaak'? She suddenly seems powerful and alien, embracing her true nature, and has become somehow unattainable?" She smirked, not unkindly, when the vampire's open mouth shut almost audibly, before she turned serious again.
"I love that girl." She smiled openly when Serana's finely sculpted eyebrows rose minutely. Oh, you are becoming just as easy to read as others! "She bested me in hand-to-hand when we met the first time and she didn't have a clue what she was doing. She placed trust in me, of which she had none left really and I didn't deserve any, and she allowed me gradually into her life. I was hooked from there on. When we were separated, she was the voice that dictated my morals. She was the face laughing with me when I was happy. She was the shoulder I could cry on when troubled. She also happens to be Dragonborn. Why didn't anyone bother to tell me? No manual comes with them – they are unique, fickle, proud, troubled, driven, infuriating, innocent, wise – and none more so than our Judiiz. Have you thought about her name? Is it not ironic? Judiiz. Iiz – Jud."
Serana's glowing eyes widened with realisation.
"Yes, as in 'Ice Queen'," the Khajiit continued. "I don't even think she's realised it yet herself. Judiiz is not completely Nord anymore. Her nature is to rule, to vanquish her foes, to dominate all if she could and be proud of it, because it is her due. But a part of her will always just be the thin young scared brutalised girl who wants to be taken care of and accepted. That is us, if we can accept the other larger, slightly scary breathing-fire part of her as well. And she hasn't even started dealing with what happened to her before she came here. She hasn't spoken about it to me, before you ask. So, she will be cold at times. Do you not think that she sees the faces of her tormentors in every soft touch you try and bestow on her? It is not something she can help. Not yet. But when the walls tumble down, she will be the little girl, not the dragon, and she will need us. But don't push her into her nightmare. Don't you dare, you ancient knowledgeable elegant and lethal royal vamp that has caught my Judiiz' eye." Silence settled, their pensive faces bathed in the soft light from the magicked fire, before Serana spoke at last with grudging respect.
"You are … surprisingly wise."
"I have been accused of worse," Rasha snickered before her stomach gave an alarming growl. "You also hungry? Oh crap … forget I asked …"
Despite her previous misgivings and morbid thoughts, Serana found herself warming slightly to her fireside companion.
"So," Paarthurnax rumbled next to Judiiz, the heat emanating from him dispelling her deep cold, "you have made your way here to me. No easy task for a joor – mortal, even for one of dovahsos – dragonblood. What would you ask of me?" She was grateful for his teaching manner of conversing. She still had trouble with some words when her emotions did not simply rip them from her.
"Can you teach me the Dragonrend Shout?" she asked without preamble.
"Ah. I have expected this. Prodah. It was foretold. You would not come all this way for tinvaak with an old dovah?" He grunted with amusement at her chagrin. "No, this is about Alduin. Zeymah … the elder brother. Gifted, grasping and troublesome as is so often the case with firstborn. You seek your weapon against him."
"How did you know?" she asked, not altogether surprised that he did.
"Alduin komeyt tiid – he returns after a time. What else would you seek? Alduin and Dovahkiin return together. But I do not know the Thu'um you seek. Krosis. Sorrowfully, no. It cannot be known to me. Your kind - joorre - mortals - created it as a weapon against the dov... the dragons. Our …" he seemed to struggle to find the right word, "… hadrimme, our minds cannot even... comprehend its concepts."
Judiiz appeared to deflate at his words. "How can I learn it then?"
"Drem. All in good time," he chided gently. "First, a question for you. Why do you want to learn this Thu'um?" She was quiet for a moment, searching for an honest answer within herself.
Troubled, she answered, "It is my destiny? It was foretold in prophesy?"
"Qostiid sahlo aak – prophesy is a weak guide. Just because you can do a thing, does not always mean you should."
"Would this world not end, me with it, if I did not do as prophesy foretold?"
"True... But qostiid - prophecy - tells what may be, not what should be. And do you have no better reason for acting than destiny? Are you nothing but a plaything of dez... of fate?"
"You mean … there is still choice?" The dragon lifted its head and nodded sagely before settling next to her again. Her destiny, her prophesy, it was not set in stone? She looked askance to where her two companions sat huddled around a tiny fire, to where … she was. If there was still choice …
"I … have grown to … like this world."
"The vulon paagoliik - nightwalker?"
"I … maybe … I don't know."
"Why do you hesitate? You are young, innocent …"
"Stahr los saark," she whispered shamefully, shrinking under his intense scrutiny. How could he understand? He was a dragon.
"Innocence is never truly gone, little dovah. It may be … dimmed, injured. Perhaps this vulon paagoliik chooses you, despite what you think?"
"Perhaps…" How did she end up discussing this with a dragon?
"And the other one? She is … briinah?"
"Yes, a sister," she answered, a fond smile curling her lips. "Therefor … I do not want this world to end."
"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? Lein vokiin? Would you stop the next world from being born?"
"You speak as the Greybeards."
"Hmm. Yes. They are very protective of me. Bahlaan fahdonne – worthy friends."
"As the Blades could be, but won't," she countered bitterly.
"Yes. Perhaps you would have dovah zeymah against Alduin if the ancient Blades had not acted so arrogantly."
"If I could choose, they would."
"You can so choose, but your Thu'um must be strong."
"Then … lein vokiin, the world unborn, will have to take care of itself."
"Paaz. A fair answer," Paarthurnax nodded thoughtfully. "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 - the whirlwind of time is turbulent. 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. Krosis. Now I will answer your question. Hmm, do you know why I live here, at the peak of the Monahven - what you name Throat of the World?"
Judiiz smiled delightedly – Monahven, Mother of the Wind. How much more apt a name it was in the beauty that was the dragon speech...
"I don't really know, Wise One. You like mountains?" she suggested coyly. His answering grin showed rows of glistening teeth.
"Hmm, true!" he admitted. "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 he was defeated." Judiiz felt a pang of sympathy for the ancient dragon. Memory unceasing – immortality had its own curse.
"They used the Dragonrend Shout, right?" she suggested softly.
"Hmm, yes and no. Viik nuz ni kron. Alduin was not truly defeated, either. If he was, you would not be here today, seeking to... defeat him."
"Defeat but not victory?" Judiiz asked for clarification and he dipped his head.
"The Nords of those days used the Dragonrend Shout to cripple Alduin. But this was not enough. Ok mulaag unslaad - his strength is unending. It was the Kel. They used it to... cast him adrift on the currents of Time," he tried to explain, clearly finding it difficult to describe events in the common tongue. Despite his best efforts, Judiiz was still unsure.
"They … sent Alduin … forward in time?"
"Mmm," he assented, but hastened to add, "Not intentionally … Some hoped he would be gone forever, forever lost. Meyye! They were fools - I knew better. Tiid bo amativ. Time flows ever onward. One day he would surface. Which is why I have lived here. For thousands of mortal years I have waited. I knew where he would emerge but not when."
"What is … Kel, Wise One?"
"Hmm," he hummed thoughtfully, "how to explain in your tongue? The dov have words for such things that joorre do not. It is an... artefact from outside time. It does not exist, but it has always existed. Rah wahlaan. They are...hmm... fragments of creation. The Kelle... Elder Scrolls, as you name them, they have often been used for prophecy. Yes," he confirmed when she sat up straighter, "your prophecy comes from an Elder Scroll. But this is only a small part of their power. Zofaas suleyk." She shuddered inwardly at his last words – if dragonkind described Elder Scrolls as a fearful power, it was indeed something to be feared.
"How exactly did they do it?"
"Tiid krent!" he exclaimed, as though the mere mention of it was an affront. "Time was... shattered here because of what the ancient Nords did to Alduin. If you brought that Kel back here... to the Tiid-Ahraan, the Time-Wound..." He nodded in conformation when she pointed at the unusual warping of reality not far from where they sat. "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."
"Or I could be cast adrift in Time as well," she remarked softly, to which he had no truthful answer. "Where would I even find this Kel?"
"Your … companion possesses one already. You did not thing a dov would feel its whispers?" he asked when she looked at him with surprise. "But the Kel needed here … Krosis, I know little of what has passed below in the long years that I have lived here. You are likely better informed than I."
"I will ask Arngeir. Maybe …" she suddenly recalled Serana's Scroll, "maybe the College of Winterhold …"
"Trust your instincts, Dovahkiin. Your blood will show you the way," he stated, as though it was the most obvious course. And perhaps it was.
"When I find it, do I bring it back here? What happens then?" He nodded his great head but the eye focused on her held … hesitation.
"Kelle vomindok. Nothing is certain with such things... But I believe the Scroll's bond with the Tiid-Ahraan will allow you a... a seeing, a vision of the moment of its creation. Then you will feel - know - Dragonrend, in the power of its first expression. You will see them..." his eye clouded with sudden nostalgia, "wuth fadonne... my old friends - Hakon, Gormlaith, Felldir!"
"Who were they?" she prompted gently.
"The first mortals that I taught the Thu'um - the first Tongues. The leaders of the rebellion against Alduin. They were mighty, in their day. Even to attempt to defeat Alduin... sahrot hunne – mighty heroes. The Nords have had many since, but none greater."
"It will be my honour to see them," she assured him and he nodded sombrely. "But for now, my own friends are waiting and the day ends."
"Ah yes, we have kept them waiting," he agreed. "It has been long since I have given in to the temptation of speech. I will look forward to doing so again, Dovahkiin."
"I … am called Judiiz, Wise One," she informed him, chastising herself for not giving her name before.
"Mmm, that is as it should," he supplied cryptically before unfurling his wings and pushing off the ground in a flurry of disturbed snow.
It was dark and they were frozen to the bone when they returned to High Hrothgar. After consuming a late meal, they bedded down in the foyer instead of depriving the Greybeards of their own beds. It was warmer there as well, the braziers casting flickering shadows on carved reliefs and vaulted ceiling. Serana was still up though, keeping a vigil sitting cross-legged against the stone wall – she did not need much sleep – and she was surprised and delighted when Judiiz shifted in her bedroll to lay her head in her lap.
"You are back," she murmured softly, caressing an errant curl from the young Nord's warm cheek. In answer, Judiiz nuzzled against her, breathing in her herb and honey scent before allowing sleep to claim her.
