Sundas, 10:39 AM, 11th of Morning Star, 4E 202

The Throat of the World

Paarthurnax remained at this mountaintop only out of strategic necessity. The other dragons needed to be able to find him, no matter what. If there were no war in progress, however, he would have rather gone and explored the world.

All those thousands of years spent in solitude here now seemed like quarantine, like self-imposed imprisonment. Certainly, that time was for a purpose as well—Paarthurnax had been anticipating his brother's return at this very place. But he had dared not speak even to his own disciples in High Hrothgar. That would have been an indulgence.

Now, he wanted to learn about Skyrim. The dragon already knew the land very well, of course. He wanted to learn about its people. It would have been truly satisfying to simply alight in the middle of a town and start talking to the local inhabitants, though Paarthurnax doubted it would be that simple.

Still, he was curious what motivated the mortals to do as they did. He understood the mind of a dragon well enough—after all, he had one himself. The mind of a mortal was an alien and fascinating thing to him. As of late, instead of simply meditating on his Thu'um and attempting to purge all other thought, Paarthurnax allowed himself to contemplate the mortal ways of thinking. He knew it was not as simple as knowing that one's days were numbered.

This morning, Paarthurnax had company. A dragon was approaching the mountain, and quickly. It had to be Nosqoriik. No others ever crossed the sky with such graceful speed. This would be an interesting encounter indeed.

Sure enough, as the dragon approached, his steely blue scales became plainly visible. Nosqoriik slowed down as he neared, and even rolled lazily into a circle around the mountaintop before landing. Paarthurnax supposed that if he had such a thorough mastery of flight, he might like to demonstrate it at any opportunity as well.

The exchange of Thu'ums was brief and mild. Paarthurnax sensed that Nosqoriik was not the type to require great ceremony. This exchange was meant, in essence, to allow two dragons to gauge one another's power. It served Paarthurnax little purpose.

Paarthurnax spoke first. "What brings you here?"

"The mages outside Labyrinthian have been destroyed."

Those words did not belong in the same sentence like that. "What?"

"I noticed a thin column of smoke coming from Labyrinthian this morning. When I investigated, the mages' camp was gone. Not simply the elves themselves. Their temporary dwellings, as well. And the smoke was coming from the burning remains of the elves and their dwellings alike. They had all been thrown down the side of the mountain and burned to ash."

The Dragonborn. Paarthurnax did not need to say it. No one else could have done something of this nature. The Thalmor mages outside Labyrinthian had successfully overpowered two dragons attacking in concert. Paarthurnax could only imagine what sort of force the Dragonborn had brought to bear.

"This is a truly fortunate turn," Paarthurnax said.

"Indeed. I used a Thu'um of frost to stop the smoke, to help preserve the secrecy. Still, I have not been able to find the Dovahkiin. He does not appear to be returning to Alftand."

"I do not imagine he would make himself so easy to find." What Paarthurnax knew, and Nosqoriik did not, was that the Dragonborn was likely deep underground.

Months ago, he had sent the Dragonborn out to find an Elder Scroll. It turned out that the only Elder Scroll known in Skyrim was located in a structure called the Tower of Mzark, whose exit was not far from Labyrinthian, and whose entrance was in the place once known, to its original inhabitants, as FalZhardum Din. Today, it was known simply as Blackreach.

Nosqoriik changed focus. "The Thalmor have lost their greatest advantage. We should be taking advantage of this."

"Not without consulting the Dovahkiin. By mounting any attack of significance now, we may be disrupting his own plans."

"A wise point. Nevertheless, I have little taste for sitting and waiting. I do not know how you endure doing it so much, Paarthurnax."

"Remember that I practiced for a few thousand years."

Nosqoriik grumbled at that. "A miserable thing to practice."

He did not know how true his words were, Paarthurnax thought. "Recently, it simply means time to think. It is little inconvenience to me."

"Think? About what, strategy?"

"About thinking, perhaps."

"I was wondering when we would begin speaking on matters of philosophy."

"Such is the way of any dov, Nosqoriik. Still, I have not been thinking upon our own ways of thought."

Nosqoriik looked at Paarthurnax silently for a few seconds. "… What?"

"Why do you suppose mortals act as they do, Nosqoriik?"

"I could not say. They have always been foolish creatures."

The insights of Paarthurnax's peers never ceased to amaze him. "It is wise not to trust a dovah," he said. "Tell me why not."

"Trust a dovah? Do you mean as in giving another dovah power over me?"

This was, truthfully, a fair insight, even if Nosqoriik did not know why. "It would be our way to take immediate advantage of that power."

"Of course, Paarthurnax. If I had power over another dovah, and I willingly surrendered that power, our roles would be reversed, and I would be a fool for it. I thought you said you were thinking of things not about us."

Paarthurnax and Nosqoriik had never developed much of a history with one another, beyond the interactions Paarthurnax had with any dragons under his command. So far, Nosqoriik impressed him with his active ways of thought. Odahviing was not unintelligent, but he had little patience for deep contemplation, and he often made for a poor partner in discussion as a result. Nosqoriik was a refreshing change.

"Your observations are accurate. I have indeed been thinking of things not about us. The mortals allow themselves to be vulnerable to one another, and for them, it is not a self-destructive act. It seems to be one of their greatest strengths."

"How is that a strength?"

"You tell me, Nosqoriik." This was not simply an attempt to educate a fellow dragon. Paarthurnax wanted to see how quickly he could adapt to foreign ideas. It was a test far more significant, he thought, than the customary demonstration of Thu'ums.

"Faced with the idea that the mortals allow themselves to be vulnerable to one another, my first conclusion is that they are simply foolish. But if I am to assume that it somehow has no self-destructive effects, that it is somehow a strength, I would say that they must have some greater goal."

"Yes."

"What goal, though?"

Paarthurnax paused. He was still rather new to putting these ideas into words. "Imagine this, Nosqoriik. We are fighting an enemy. The Thalmor could be the enemy, the Nords could be the enemy, it matters not. I am your equal, beneath a common leader, who favors me more than you. Imagine that I am grievously wounded in battle with the enemy. You have the chance to finish me off and take our leader's favor for yourself. What do you do?"

"Not the obvious thing, or else there would be little point in imagining this all."

"Why not, then?"

"If I slay you, I will gain our leader's favor, for I will be the strongest dovah in our place of authority. That does seem like a valid way of thought."

"But then you have one less ally to fight the enemy with. They will have to fight one dovah instead of two."

Nosqoriik made an irritated growl. "This strategy is singularly annoying."

"If all of us agreed to it, we would use our power far better. The mortals seem to have already mastered this. They have so little power to use, but they use it very intelligently."

"That is fine for the mortals, though. Why should we worry about this? We are the children of Akatosh. We are not made to be paralyzed by struggles for power."

"No, we are made to defer to the threat of being overpowered. The children of Akatosh are no more advanced in this manner than wild beasts."

"What would you suggest, Paarthurnax? The Way of the Voice?"

Paarthurnax had to pause again. No, he was not advocating the Way of the Voice. That had never been made for dragons to use in the first place. At this moment, he doubted most dragons would even care about it. "I tried the Way of the Voice. It merely… Dulled my experiences. No, I have been thinking differently. While I remain here on the Throat of the World, I imagine what it would be like to be someone else."

"Why would you want to do that? You are yourself. I am myself."

"It is the one thing that makes mortals better than us, Nosqoriik. Empathy, they call it. They feel what their peers feel, so it is not in their nature to betray those around them. That is an abhorrent act to them."

"They feel what their peers feel?" Nosqoriik appeared to have put no thought at all before now into mortals' actual feelings. "Then they would want everyone to feel exactly as they would. They would want everyone to be their equals."

"Unfortunately, the mortals also share our thirst for power. Otherwise, I am certain that they would indeed truly ensure equality through their number. The mortals have a whole world of relationships, far more complex than our hierarchy, thanks to their sense of connection to one another. We respect one another, perhaps. Do we ever like one another?"

"… Like?" It translated poorly, Paarthurnax had to admit.

"To like another, as I understand it, is to enjoy another's company, and to feel a stronger sense of empathy for them as a result. To desire for fortune to smile on them in particular."

"That sounds pointless."

"Truly? It sounds fascinating to me. It is one of many facets of expression of empathy. That is something I respect more every day."

"What is to respect there? Paarthurnax, you speak as though your mind is broken. What is this all about?"

"Nosqoriik, I spent an eternity on this mountaintop meditating on the Way of the Voice. I knew that if I succumbed to my desire to dominate, I would not be able to defend the world against Alduin. In order to ensure our survival, I did the most sensible thing I knew of, and rejected my desires. And to ensure my will would not bend, I rejected all of them. Can you imagine what that is like, Nosqoriik? It is like a prison for the mind. You are not allowed to pursue power. You are not allowed to fly freely. You are not allowed to discuss your ideas. You are not allowed to do anything that feels good to you, ever."

Nosqoriik actually cringed away from Paarthurnax. "But…"

"That is what my existence has been like, Nosqoriik, and it has been precisely as painful as it sounds. The Way of the Voice is a falsely graceful name for torturing oneself inside. I refuse to return to it." Emotion had entered Paarthurnax's voice. It was greater than he could grasp. "All I have wanted is to let this world continue on its course, to protect Mundus from being undone. There has been no reward. I have not been allowed to enjoy any of the very world I have tried to save! Every moment, every single moment, I have been in nothing but pain! I have done all I can, and—and—"

Paarthurnax's Thu'um came as an anguished scream. A jet of flame issued forth into the sky.

When it was over, Nosqoriik was standing exactly where he had been. He seemed rooted to the spot. Paarthurnax lowered his head, panting slightly.

"I apologize," he said quietly. "I have never spoken of those thoughts."

Nosqoriik regained his composure quickly enough. "Paarthurnax… Do you mean to tell me that you want to replace the discipline of the Way of the Voice with a mortal sense of… Of empathy?"

"Your insights reach far, Nosqoriik. I still feel the urge to seek my share of power, but the mortals must have some way of suppressing it without pain. I suspect empathy is involved. It would be… Ideal." Paarthurnax felt drained of energy. He could not tell whether it was the Thu'um or the words preceding it. Either way, he simply lay down on the snow beneath him.

Nosqoriik clambered over the icy rocks to stand right by the elder dragon. "Is this one such situation, as you have described? One dovah, showing vulnerability to another?"

Paarthurnax picked up his head. "Perhaps. What would you choose to do?"

"You are the most powerful dovah to currently exist. I would be doing you a disservice by faltering in my service, even if I see weakness in you. You remain stronger than I."

"You have yet to meet the question at its level, Nosqoriik."

"I will continue to obey you. Shall I return to flight?"

Strangely, Paarthurnax's answer did not come to him immediately. The strategically proper answer would have been for Nosqoriik to fly with haste and resume his observation of the area around Labyrinthian. After all, he had already lost a significant amount of time by coming here to speak to Paarthurnax. He should have been gone already.

But that was not what Paarthurnax said. Perhaps it was because of what thoughts he had just shared. He had just allowed Nosqoriik a glimpse of his genuine feelings. He may as well have settled his neck between the younger dragon's jaws. But no harm had come of it, and now Paarthurnax felt something about Nosqoriik himself. It was very difficult to describe, but whatever the case, he did not want for Nosqoriik to simply leave. Not yet.

"Soon enough. For now, stay here."

Nosqoriik looked down at him curiously. "Is there more to discuss?"

"Nothing of note. I simply… Hmm… I simply wish for you not to leave right away."

This was a strange experience. Paarthurnax did not entirely understand what motivated him. He did not mind being alone on this mountaintop. Perhaps this was a taste of how mortals worked. He had allowed himself, however accidentally, to be vulnerable to this dragon, and this dragon had not punished him for it.

And so Nosqoriik settled down on the snowy peak, resting by his leader. This was no way for dragons to behave, but something still felt very right.

Paarthurnax liked him.