Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Bethesda Studios and I own nothing at all except for the OC and plot. There is no profit made at all, really.

Summary: Because there was a deeper, darker version of Dragonrend… Now Alduin must learn to live again, not as a devourer of worlds, but as a man...

Genre: Adventure/Humour

A/N: Alrighty, one down and nine to go. That's right, I totally intend to wrap up Dragonrend in nine more chapters unless the Muse throws me to the floor in a smackdown. This update's coming quite soon on the heels of the previous one but I don't think I can keep up this pace. However, I aim to finish Dragonrend by October. Some ASOIAF shout-outs and a short line from one of my favourite poems.

Nykle: To quote argentorum, Lydia is a bae. Happysnail: Great to hear you'll be here all the way! As for Alduin going for marriage counselling, Freyja might have to drag him screaming and kicking all the way up the mountain. *L* AzhiD: Well, Brynjolf has a bigger role to play in coming chapters so I had to throw him into the mix. I'm glad you liked that decision though. And thanks for reviewing! Eisenfaust: Gah, thank you! Actually I did like that chapter personally; I felt it was one of the better ones. Once more, thank you! FloodFester: Ehehehe...well, we will see since the end draweth nigh anyway. And yes, Alduin does find everything annoying except for the DB. He's such a baby. Argentorum: That ending was a spur of the moment thingy actually. :) And yes, Lydia's like the BFF every woman needs. LissaRegan6: You are totally right about the comedic potential here. Unfortunately, things just took a darker turn than I expected..sigh...oh well. As for unexpected twists...I hope to serve up some really soon. AuroraNova: Confrontation with Paarthurnax coming up really soon, I promise. And thank you for complimenting my portrayal of Lydia. :) PintsizedSheBear: You know, one's an immortal super-horse and the other two are blimmin' hot. I'd trade places with her. *L* TheGodsOnlyKnow: Third parties suck yeah? In Bryn's defence though, it is totally platonic. Zute: Zute! LOL...blue eyeballs indeed. And thank you for your lovely review. It made me a bit wistful because you are spot-on when you wrote that this story is almost done. Halkuonn: My secret is that I sacrifice cows to Julianos. Just kidding! I'm quoting another reviewer (Dave, I believe) who left a totally hilarious review awhile ago. I just read and edit and try my best. And it's always lovely to know that you've enjoyed this so much. Thanks for leaving a review. Adamantineangel: Thank you and thank you! On days like these when I feel so drained and sometimes think I just don't want to write, reviews like yours are always there to give me a kick in the ass and get moving. Guest: Short but to the point. I like that! Thanks. Paladinofthelantern: Aw, thank you so much! And also for the encouragement. As for Alduin, feel free to imagine him looking anyway you want. That's completely up to you and none of my business. :) JohannaValhalla: You're welcome and thank you for giving me reasons to stay motivated! MegaMario6: We know. *L* Sorry, I couldn't pass that chance up. MissSouthernBelle: I'm so glad you let me know that! It did make my day. Thank you! Wanderer: Thanks! And also for leaving a review to let me know that you've been reading this and what you enjoy about it. Ragez: You're welcome! I hope you enjoy this chapter too. Forgotmypassword: Thanks so much! I do have some fan art links listed on my profile page. Do check those out if you haven't yet. SneakyDevil: Yes, it is. I'm both sad and glad actually.

DRAGONREND

LI.

It was a hard and fast ride with the moons and stars to light the way back and beyond. The shining falls as they thundered alongside us, the winding path back up with Shadowmere effortlessly twisting and turning, the sound of Brynjolf gently coaxing his mount to step into the dark riverbed after the strange creature that it knew was no true horse. I would remember it all in the time that was to come after.

'If only we could have more light,' I thought as clouds scudded across the night sky. There was a splash behind followed by a soft whinny; Brynjolf's horse had stopped. Tugging on the reins, I brought Shadowmere to a halt. Riverwood looked deserted, but I had no doubt that there were lookouts posted. For the sake of secrecy, we had to keep off the main road and that meant skirting the steep cliffs and the river. A log floated past, dark and glistening, as Shadowmere moved aside. When the clouds had passed, we continued to pick our way carefully forward until the hunter's camp came into view. He slept, oblivious to our presence as the horses swam across and pulled themselves up the bank a dozen feet from him. It was his hound that watched us, its ears forward and head up, alert for any sign that its master was in danger.

Then it was up another winding path again, past the Standing Stones that seemed to watch as we went swiftly by. If I looked hard enough, I could have sworn I would have seen a tall grim Nord in blood splattered Imperial armour and behind him, an ash-stained woman who limped from an ankle twisted from the landing she made after jumping from a broken tower.

The surroundings were as silent as the ghosts of my past. In spite of the constant weaving in and amongst the tall shadowy pines with their moon-silvered tops, I felt myself grow sleepy. Then the distant sound of marching jerked me back into full wakefulness. "Over there," Alduin murmured low in my ear, a hand on my shoulder to shift me in the direction where the noise was coming from. Here, the land was once more uneven and above the rocky outcrop that blocked one's view of the main road, I could see the faint glow of torches. Ordinarily I would have just gone further back into the trees; unfortunately, we were on the wrong side of the road for such a move. The trees were just starting to thin and the skies were currently cloudless and heavy with stars. "More light indeed," I grumbled, applying pressure to Shadowmere's flanks as I sent him across the road at a fast walk. Anything swifter might have made sufficient noise to attract attention. Behind me, Brynjolf followed closely as we melted back into the darkness. Then, we stopped.

Down the cobbled path the soldiers came in their bronzed leathers and boots, armed with swords and spears. Here the air was cooler and most of them looked relatively fresh for men who must have been marching for a good number of hours. All of them looked grim. I had no doubt that they must have heard of how Whiterun had been saved by a dragon, and that the dragon had been on the side of the Dragonborn. No doubt some of them were wondering if they were walking all the way to Whiterun only to taste dragonfire. Injured pride and fury must have driven Skulnar to sanction such an arrest. I had not encountered all the Legates of Skyrim, but I hoped the majority would be far more sensible.

We waited until the last sounds faded, watched as the glow of the torches grew fainter and fainter until it was no more. "I think that should be it," Brynjolf said quietly. "We'd best be on our way before Horse here eats all the grass around us." The stallion's ears flicked forward but he continued munching contently on the contents in his mouth. Shadowmere snorted disdainfully.

" 'Horse' again? You need to find better names for your steeds," I remarked as we came out o onto the open road.

"Whatever for? It's not like I keep any of them anyway. 'Horse' is entirely appropriate and you can't go too wrong with it."

Behind me, it was Alduin's turn to snort disdainfully. Without waiting to see if Brynjolf was going to respond, I tapped Shadowmere's side with my heel and he moved off into a swift canter. At this hour of the night, the road was deserted. I kept a wary eye out for bandits that might accost us but if there had been any, the marching contingent must have frightened them away, at least long enough for us to travel most of the way to Helgen without being harassed.

Since the ruined settlement was now a bandit stronghold, the plan had been to ride in as closely as we could without being spotted by a lookout and then using the Thu'um, create a distraction that would allow us to skirt the wooden walls of the compound and make a quick getaway. "Those soldiers that passed us," Alduin said as I slowed Shadowmere to a trot, "they sported no injuries and neither did they look as though they had been through a skirmish of any sort."

I turned back to look at him and tried not to see how the moons seemed to wind themselves into the darkness of his hair or how they failed soften the sharp edges of his face. There was ruthlessness in such beauty; it took no prisoners and only a fool would tarry. 'More fool you,' I thought and bit the inside of my cheek.

"Is it not necessary for them to have passed through Helgen first?"

He was right. "It is. I missed that completely."

His hands on my waist tightened. "Something else on your mind?"

In the distance, Helgen loomed pale and broken. There were no lights, not even in the outermost watchtower that was visible to us. "You know what it is, for it is in yours as well."

He might have said more, but Brynjolf pulled up next to us although his stallion made sure it kept a relatively wide berth from Shadowmere. I could see the whites of its eyes but it obeyed the commands of its rider; at least the Imperials knew how to train their horses, I had to give them that. "The place looks deserted. You did say the Legion has been garrisoning soldiers at another fort nearby. Perhaps they've cleaned out this nest."

There was only one way to make sure that we weren't riding into a trap. The Thu'um went out, a red whisper that plucked at any traces of life it could find. A fox and her cubs on the rocky ridges above us, some goats that were grazing on the snow-touched grass higher up on the hillside. Somewhere much farther away on the other side, a sabre cat lay quietly amidst the thick foliage, unnoticed by the four men or women huddled around what must have been a fire. Helgen though remained void of any people. There were numerous smaller life forms though, clustered in batches amongst the walls and towers. I swallowed, and it wasn't entirely because of the low burn of the Thu'um in my throat.

As we rode in, a low wind caught the doors of the opened gate, moving them on rusted hinges that moaned and sobbed softly, paradoxically thickening the silence. Everything that remained standing was testament to a dragon's fury. The smashed houses, the snapped slates with their raw black edges and charred walls that reminded me so much of human bones. Rubble stirred in the wind, fine grey that scattered itself over burnt ground. I glimpsed the keep to which I had fled and tasted afresh some of the terror which had given my limbs strength, that had sent me fleeing through smoke and fire after Hadvar as we ran for our lives while the world fell down around us.

I wondered what Alduin remembered as he sat behind me, tall and silent in the saddle. He had been more of a god then.

Up ahead, Brynjolf came to a stop. When he looked back at me, I knew it for a warning. He had lived at least fifteen more winters than I had, or so he claimed, and he had suffered losses and betrayals that went as deep as those I knew. But he had always been one for easy smiles and laughter, a quick quip and a firm quiet word. Brynjolf, Vex had grumbled, was irrepressibly optimistic. It was rare to see him look this grim.

Then I saw why and I knew my expression mirrored his. The archway leading to the keep was lined with a row of gibbets and the dead reached out to us through the bars. Although encased in iron and leather, the flesh that remained stunk and the smell hung heavy in the air here; the fingers though had been picked clean and they were white, so white in the dim shadows. Tiny shining eyes stared out at us from the empty sockets of several skulls. Whatever had eaten those people alive was still living inside them.

The message was clear to any bandits looking to reoccupy Helgen: the Legion did not show mercy.


The horse did not want to go too far into the cave. However, a combination of exhaustion and the tempting offer of some very sweet-smelling hay eventually persuaded the animal to go inside. That, and the fact that Shadowmere had opted to stay outside in the snowstorm that had suddenly descended.

Alduin watched as Freyja and Brynjolf rubbed the stallion down while it ate by the light of the bobbing nimbus that she had cast. There was no fire; here in the crude narrow pass which men in bygone eras had carved, there was precious little kindling to be found, save for the occasional bush that yielded blood-red snowberries which he recognised from the mountains of Falkreath.

When the horse had been seen to, they joined him wordlessly. The bedrolls had been spread out and now knapsacks were opened as they chewed on dried strips of beef. They had ridden on until the skies above turned grey, until the ache in his thighs seemed to be as much a part of him as the flesh he wore. It was hard to tell time though. The sun could not be seen and whatever light there was had been filtered through thick swelling clouds that hung low overhead. Between that and the steep walls that rose on and on until his eye could no longer see them, it was suffocating.

"I'll take the first watch." Brynjolf stood, grabbed the thick fur cloak fashioned from a bear's pelt and moved off to plant himself closer to the entrance. Huddled against the side of the cave, he seemed to blend in with the shadows. Outside, the snow beat down hard in a dazzling white flurry.

Finishing one last strip of meat, Alduin wiped his hand on the edge of the thick fur cloak Freyja had insisted on swaddling him in and strapped the gauntlet back on. Across from him, the Dragonborn was rummaging around in her pack. With every step they took towards the Monahven, his hope grew, a fierce and wild thing that could no longer be quelled or restrained. Even if Paarthurnax's disciples lacked the knowledge to undo the chains that bound him, his traitorous kin surely had some insights to offer. Alduin dropped his gaze to the edged pommel of the Nightingale blade. He imagined its sharp blade between his brother's eyes.

That particular fantasy evaporated when Freyja held out an apple to him. He took it and in an unspoken invitation, shifted to make space for her on the bedroll. The furs whispered against each other as she sat down beside him. At least she was shivering less now. He felt the weight of the apple in his hand and knew he would not eat it. He was too full with excitement and more than a little trepidation.

"Have you considered my offer?" he asked softly.

She acted as though she had not heard him, choosing instead to eye the apple he held. Then she turned to look up at him and even in the darkness he read her as clearly as if they had been surrounded by warm sunlight. He saw Helgen in her blue eyes.

"I am the Dragonborn, Alduin. I... cannot."

Sweetness pierced the cold stale air. He had broken the skin of the apple, bruised it with his grip. "That wreck we left behind was born of my rage, I do not deny that. But it does not define who I am and what I must do."

"You are the god of destruction."

"I am as my father Akatosh made me, as you are Dovahkiin." His voice was low but the words were fierce. "The prophecy casts me in the light of disaster and foolish songs sung in tavern halls would name me evil—"

The hard smile that twisted her face stopped him. "You enslaved people. You let your priests and dragons commit all manner of atrocities. You committed atrocities. You..." She clamped her lips together until they became a white blaze, until she swallowed the words she originally meant to say. "You may not have known better then but that does not absolve you."

Freyja had shown him mortals in a way that he had never known them. The way he felt about her was a chain around his neck that he learned to wear because she had made him something else, forever different in a way that went beyond the Thu'um. The sight of the bones in Valthume had shaken him, shaken the truth as he had known it. It had not given him a new truth to live by.

Still, there were things he now knew which he could share. "That was a mistake."

His confession shocked her visibly. "What?"

Instead of immediately replying he took his time, leaned back against the uneven wall, let the words soak in over her. "I was never meant to rule. That was not my destiny." He held her with his gaze. "It is duty now that I mean to complete."

"Duty." She licked her lips, her breath pale in the air.

"Yes. The destruction I bring is not what the people imagine it to be. They think me a god who devours all to satiate my hunger." He realised he was crushing the apple further and set it aside. "There is no truth in that."

"What is the truth?"

"I gave you my memories in a dream. You experienced this world when it first began." The sharp sweet scent of earth, the seas of green forests, the blue of the oceans, the sharp white crowns of mountains. Vast deserts of red golden sands that met the sky in a horizon that you could fly to but never reach but would try anyway because the flight was a reward in itself. Light and sound and a thousand thousand heartbeats where there had been nothing. "All things must end, so that the next can come to pass."

She was beginning to understand now although she did not want to. He wondered if she even knew that she was shaking her head ever so slightly.

"The god of destruction, yes. But in my wake I leave the seeds of new life. Only death pays for life." There was no comfort in the touch he gave her now. "Save this world and you murder the other even before it is in its infancy."

She shoved his hand away. "That's not true. That other world hasn't even begun—"

"The new world ought to be but it is not and if you deny it that right, do you not take life? This world was not meant to see so many years. Its time was over even before the rebellion against my kingdom. But I would not accept it. Now though, I have a chance to set things right."

She said nothing and in that deep pause, he heard her pain, sensed the doubt that he had planted taking root. "Then why am I here?" Even though stricken, there was steel in her yet.

Because she was his, his in exchange for all that he had given up and would continue giving up. Something of that must have shown in his face because Freyja's eyes widened as she sucked in a sharp quivering breath. "To stop me," he replied as he watched her so very carefully. "It was not my greed that destroyed this world but kept it alive long past its due date. I wanted something of my own, something to keep after an eternity of laying waste to existence." She held herself stock still as he touched her face, traced the scar on her cheek. "Perhaps that is why my father sent you, so that I will never again be tempted. With you, I want no world."


It was their second night in the pass and Brynjolf estimated that they would reach Ivarstead by evening the following day. Yesterday's snowstorm had howled itself out and thankfully, in the hours that followed, they suffered nothing less than the endless cold and occasional light snow. All in all, excellent progress had been made and while he had no doubt that the beleaguered Imperial troops were behind them, there was really little to no chance of the latter catching up unless Skulnar and Cipius wanted their men to perish from exhaustion.

What worried Brynjolf was Freyja. When he had taken that first watch, his intention had been to let her spend some time with Alduin and hopefully talk the god out of wanting to destroy life as all of them knew it. Since then though, she had been mostly silent and deep in thought; even Alduin left her alone.

At the moment, he was supposed to be sleeping but after what seemed like an hour of tossing and turning, he gave up the fight and went to join Freyja, who was keeping watch by the fire. Only, she wasn't there. He scrambled to his feet.

The dark-skinned Redguard huntress whose camp they were sharing looked up at him and silently pointed further up the road. There was no point in asking her why Freyja had gone; she would not have told the woman. Pulling his hood back up, Brynjolf reflexively checked both daggers to ensure they were securely in their sheaths. Then, he went after the Dragonborn. The fact that her horse was gone too was not lost on him.

With the mountain on either side hemming him in, everything was that much darker. The snowfall that covered the road was the brightest thing around and even then it was a shade more than dim. He stayed close to one rocky side, trusted in Nocturnal not to let him put a foot astray. Icicles like ice fangs glistened overhead as he passed beneath the rocky outcrops they clung to.

Just before he rounded a bend, he heard it. A thick gurgling sound almost like weeping accompanied by the rasp of something armoured that dragged itself along the ground. It raised the hairs on his neck and arms, made him draw his blades as he walked towards it. Then he stopped short.

Freyja stood over a Thalmor soldier whose armour was dark with blood that was gushing from so many wounds that he didn't know where to begin counting. His gaze met the elf's as her blade came down. There was the slightest ripping sound as the sword sighed through flesh and bone. The head rolled, its green eyes still open as it went bouncing down into darkness, the sound of it ringing in Brynjolf's ears long after it faded.

"Lass?" He shivered. Since when had the air turned so bitterly cold?

She flicked her blade free of excess blood before sliding it back into its sheath. Shadowmere came up from behind, seemingly out of nowhere and Brynjolf saw that the snow under its hooves was marked with red prints. Thalmor always travelled in parties of three and he could say quite safely that the other two were as dead as the one Freyja had killed.

"You shouldn't be here," she said harshly. He couldn't see her eyes because of the hood but for a moment, long shadows like fingers stretched over her face. Then she reached out for Shadowmere's bridle and he blinked, wondering if he had imagined it.

"What was that?" he demanded, following her. As he did, he realised he was still holding his daggers. For a moment, he hesitated before putting them away. This was Freyja. No matter what, it was still her. "What was that?" He grabbed her arm, Shadowmere reared and Freyja was pushing the horse away, snarling at him to stand down.

"That was repayment. For contracts I have stopped taking. And for what happened in Bravil."

He wanted to ask more but sensed the answers would come anyway. Shadowmere lifted his lips and growled in a manner that no normal horse was capable of. It sounded almost akin to the sounds bears made. "The riots were used as a cover-up. The Thalmor had heard rumours of a source of power beneath the Lucky Old Lady. They saw to it that the rioters destroyed the statue. And when the fighting had shifted to other parts of the city, they went down and found the Night Mother's children guarding her." She cocked her head to the side, as though she was hearing a voice he could not. "They burned the Listener Alisanne Dupre alive. I smelled her, burning in my dreams. I heard them laughing as she died. They meant to take the bride of Sithis as a pawn for themselves." She tugged Shadowmere along as she began walking back to the camp. "She always tells me when they are near, always. So I hunt them, for the sins of the unworthy must be baptised in blood and fear."

She looked back at him over her shoulder and he knew then that there were some things that he could not save her from or help her with. He let her go first, stood there in the cold as the snow started falling once more.