A/N: Yee so we finally got some Laven going last chapter :D I admit, I made you guys wait a while, but I didn't think things would take that long. On the same note, I didn't want it to develop sooner than felt natural, and given that Allen and Lavi met under different circumstances here, and the dynamic is a bit different than canon DGM, I didn't want past things between them to simply "vanish" without there being reason and time for them to set it aside and really start to get to know one another. I also wasn't wanting romance to entirely overshadow the plot since that's one of my peeves when it comes to stories I try to read :x
Anyway, there'll definitely be more Laven moments from here on!
Best Laid Plans
A D Gray-Man and Skyrim Crossover
Allen took another week or so of rest after talking with Lavi, and he was beginning to wish he really had given the redhead more of a chance sooner. There were still times where the redhead was guarded and distant, but it wasn't only with him, as Lenalee assured at least once that he cared to keep track of. Beyond that, the redhead was more lively and conversational, hanging around more often and talking with both him and Lenalee, as well as Kanda on the rare occasion they could get him interested in a conversation long enough for a few lines of dialogue.
There were no more kisses since then, much less anything beyond that, but both Allen and Lavi were content with that. When both Kanda and Lenalee were gone, and topics of conversation exhausted, Allen occasionally asked Lavi to read to him.
Among the books that the inn had, were Wabbajack, Fall from Glory, and Herbane's Bestiary: Hagravens.
The first was more like a farce or parody piece, talking of summoning Daedric Prince's and speaking of `parental supervision` in jest. At one point there was a mention of shaving a cat and a man in colorful clothing that was claimed to definitely be Hermeaus Mara yet kept calling themselves Sheograth but all inconsistencies were ignored. The book ended going on about nonsense of things that rhymed the same in actuality being one and the same, and questioning why other people called the other mad, before repeating Wabbajack over and over in the last lines.
The second was a short tomb on the speculations of why and how the infamous Thieves Guild in Riften had lost much of its influence and ability to pull off crime throughout the region, guessing everything from a possible murder of their own Guild Master to divine intervention by the Gods themselves.
The last was an account of creatures that Allen had rarely glimpsed and admittedly made him shudder at the few encounters he had had. Hagravens; witches who forsook their humanity in exchange for wielding great magic, women once possibly beautiful turned into wrinkled crones that were part bird in appearance and entirely consumed by their lust for power.
When they were all done with those, Lavi managed to borrow Nord's Arise! from one of the townsfolk, talking of the casting off of Talos as one of the Nine Divines, who was once Tiber Septim, first Emperor of Tamriel, ascended to godhood after his death. It spoke of Ysgramor and the 500 Companions who drove the elf kind out of Skyrim in ancient times, comparing it to the Great War that later gave rise to the current war between the Empire and Ulfric Stormcloak's supporters.
Among the books Lavi brought, he read Chance's Folly, about a thief trying to steal from the Daedric Prince, Nocturnal, and The Amulet of Kings.
It was enough to keep him from growing too restless, at least, until long enough had gone by that he deemed it fine enough to head up to High Hrothgar at last. Lavi and Lenalee were less certain, but he was persistently stubborn about wanting to get moving. That he had sat idle too long already, wounded or otherwise.
Just before making the climb, an older man and an elf were discussing a delivery of food to the Greybeards and how difficult the climb would be for the older of the two. In the end, Allen offered they bring the bag of dried and salted meats up with them, since they were heading up to High Hrothgar anyway.
The path was steep, mostly dirt. What stone steps were there were half-buried beneath permafrost and soil, bare of all but the most shallowly rooted shrubs and trees. The path wound over on itself, climbing steeply, and was narrow enough to make it impossible for them to travel anything but single-file. Lavi could see why there might not be seven-thousand steps, despite the name, as time had worn away or buried many of them, leaving more of a hill than a staircase.
As they ascended higher, snow began to cover the ground to the sides of the stairs in small piles, then the steps themselves, crunching beneath the hooves of their horses. A few mountain goats scattered away from the path, but otherwise there was little wildlife to speak of.
Or at least, that's what would have been ideal, if not for a massive snow bear further up, which both Lavi and Kanda handled without having to involve Allen, though it was as annoying as it was difficult.
The wind picked up as they grew higher in elevation, becoming fiercer and more frigid, often picking up snow from the ground and blowing it sideways against the traveling party of four and their horses. The snow became deeper as they went, making it harder for the animals to blow forward up the slope, so their pace was slow-going and uncomfortable if not downright miserable.
In places where the steps were no visible, piles of rock that marked the trail stood, with a tattered cloth between the stacked stones, buffeted by the wind and beckoning, almost as if waving them forward, to distinguish them from every other tower of stone on the mountainside.
The path went up, then leveled off, then down, and back up again as it wound around the entire base of the mountain in a full circle, but to either side was no way to cut the travel time. To their right was a steep drop, and to their left, and even steeper wall going straight up towards the sky.
It was mid-day when they paused, still no temple in sight, but with a narrow collection of cliffs rising on either side being the next part of the trail. Ahead they could see an overhang, and Kanda pulled them to a halt, Lavi and Allen stopping beside him as he squinted.
"See somethin', Yuu?"
He nodded his head up to the cleft of the overhang, where one of the snow-covered rocks looked to be moving slightly. "See that? A frost troll."
"Well isn't that just wonderful for us?" Lavi snarked unhappily. He hated bears, especially snow bears, but frost trolls were even worse. Ugly, multi-eyed ape-like creatures with claws that could probably rip a new one in the hide of a dragon or a mammoth with ease.
"Think we could sneak past it?" Lenalee suggested.
"Likely not. It probably already sees us," Lavi hummed. "But we do have the advantage of distance with two of us being skilled at ranged combat, and frost trolls don't do so well with fire," the redhead said as he ignited a small spark of flame in-palm.
"Then deal with it, Rabbit," Kanda ordered, sliding down off of his horse and drawing his sword. "If it gets past your weapons, I'll finish it off."
Turned out, Kanda didn't need to, between Lavi's own barrage of Firebolts and Lenalee's arrows, the beast dodging the occasional attempt, but otherwise being taken down without them ever having to get too close, the troll eventually falling forward and perishing in the shadow of the rocks.
The sun had set and sky was beginning to darken as the passed through and back onto the open slope. Allen couldn't help but marvel at their height, barely able to make out individual trees in the land below, his head dizzy from the thin atmosphere of the altitude and lungs stinging from the cold.
The frost in the air made him cough, each one making his healing ribs ache, but he assured the others he was fine so they could continue onward. The best thing for him would be to get out of the cold, anyway, and the only way they were going to do that was to reach the temple, which had yet to come into view.
At the very least, when night fell, their path remained clear as moonlight reflected off the glittering surface of fresh snow, so there was very little worry of accidentally walking off the side of the mountain and falling to their deaths, and they stayed as far from the edge as possible.
Finally they rounded the bend, and a uniform tower of stone appeared ahead of them over the rise, with stone halls to either side of it and small, dark windows. The stairs in front of the building branched into two, which bowed slightly to the sides, but it appeared both led to the same place, so it mattered little which ones they took.
"It doesn't look like there are any stables or shelter for the horses," Allen noted with a hint of unhappiness as he slid from Tim's back carefully.
"Well maybe they have some inside," Lavi suggested. "Even the inside of a stable would be pretty damn cold for a horse at this altitude."
Allen merely nodded, grasping Timcanpy's reigns and taking the lead inside, shuffling in single-file after pushing open the heavy, elaborately carved doors.
Inside was startlingly quiet compared to the roaring wind outside, almost stiflingly so after having grown used to the constant noise, and the horses snorted and shook the snow and ice off of them. Immediately, a figure began to approach them, clad in thick grey robes and walking down the steps from one of the halls to the left side.
The man was old, with a medium length beard, and his voice as he spoke haggard by time.
"So... a Dragonborn appears, at this moment in the turning of age..."
"You already know who I am?" Allen questioned, unsure whether or not he should be impressed, considering he had yet to say anything.
"No, not entirely," the man said slowly, as other robed figures gathered behind him. "But there is a simple way to find out. Shout for us. Strike us with the power of your Voice."
"I don't think I understand what you mean by that..."
"If you are truly the Dragonborn, then you have a power already available to you that would take anyone else a good part of their lifetime to master," the old man said. "In the common tongue, we call it the Voice, or Shout. In the dragon's tongue, it is called a Thu'um. Surely you have already used it once, as we have heard, when you unleashed the power of Fus upon your enemies?"
Realization dawned on him, and he nodded.
"Then use it, and show us that you truly are Dragonborn." When he saw the uncertainty on Allen's face, he added. "Do not worry. You will not harm us."
Allen drew in a deep breath, nodding as he let Timcanpy's reigns hang loose and stepped away from his companions.
"Alright..." he exhaled. He tried to tap into that same vocal power as before, feeling it rise in his chest easily, like little more than a basic instinct he'd tapped into his entire life, despite it being entirely new to him, outside of the few instances where he had used it against the dragons. The pressure built in his lungs, like the need for breath after being underwater for too long, and he opened his mouth to let it free, a familiar shockwave of pure power accompanying the word.
"FUS!"
It staggered the man back several feet, and the ones behind him, sending clay pots flying, clattering, one or two even shattering against the floor or a wall. His eyes turned worried, but the old man quickly recovered and stepped forward again, with a look of grim approval.
"Dragonborn. It is you. Welcome to High Hrothgar."