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: Hey guys, I managed to get another chapter out after forcibly removing my Muse from the Jurassic World pool she has been playing in. Claire/Owen (Clawen) feels have been ruining my ovaries so I wrote stuff. However, this chapter came easier the more I worked at it, and this is the best I can do, barring more editing for mistakes I've overlooked. To everyone who reviewed, thank you, thank you, thank you. I will go back to replying to individual reviews in the next chapter, when I'm not so drained. You make this all worthwhile and during times when the proverbial shit hits the fan and won't go away (like just recently), your reviews are a wonderful pick me up.

DRAGONREND

LII.

She died with Nightshade in her left hand, the deep purple and dusky pink blazing into ash as the heat made the flowers fold in on themselves. The flames clung to her, eating away at her armour, burning her flesh but more slowly because she used Dragonskin, because of the magic in her blood that increased her resistance to the mage fire the Thalmor were flooding the tiny crypt with. There had been only one way out and that way was sealed. The dead bodies of the initial intruders she had piled against the narrow neck of the entrance. That had bought her some time. Candles. The flowers. She took out her Daedric blade and fed it her own blood again and again. She prayed because she knew she would not live. She prayed because she wanted this more than life.

"Sweet mother, sweet mother, send your child unto me, for the sins of the unworthy must be baptised in blood and fear."

She collapsed in a sea of burning yellow and white, the prayer a defiant scream on her lips. Outside, they laughed, never knowing that within lay a Listener who prayed for the deaths of all Thalmor. She knew her Mother and had felt her rage. She knew Sithis would answer her prayer.

So even if I remained deaf to all else that the Night Mother said, I could not ignore this because Sithis would not let me. She spoke less and less, and eventually all I could feel was a presence now and then as I defied her. I went back to using Astrid's system of listening to rumours instead; the surge in the number of Brotherhood acolytes made things easier. There were more of us now, and Delvin, when I had sent a missive—not in my own name of course—had been most willing to lend the ears of the Guild to the cause of the Brotherhood as well. Babette and Nazir had been doubtful, but I was the Listener and slayer of an Emperor, so they went along with my plans. By all counts, we were prospering. Perhaps she would let me go. It was a pleasant lie to indulge in, especially given her silence.

Then there would a day or a night when I would wake in agony, or be standing such that I would have to grab something to keep upright. I learned to shove the edge of my palm into my mouth so that I wouldn't run the risk of biting my tongue. It also made for a fairly effective way of muffling my screams. I was burning alive although there were no flames. It would last for agonising moments, and then I would be spared because there were Thalmor nearby and I had to hunt them or burn as Alisanne Dupre had burned. It had started the first time I disobeyed.

"Her death will not be in vain," the Night Mother told me as I writhed. "And you are the one. As you live, the Dark Brotherhood lives. You bind this family together."

She laughed when I had told her not to lie and to find another Listener. "You are the Last." She spoke to me the way an indulgent mother would a child throwing a tantrum. "There are no more like you. You will always belong to my Dread Lord."

Dawn had finally arrived, and instead of water I found myself downing one more stamina potion. That was the third one; it had been a very long night. Brynjolf looked as awful as I did and I suspected that he had had as much sleep as I had even though he had settled down on his bedroll. I suppose turning his back to me was as much for his peace of mind, and not necessarily an insult. It could have been read as a gesture of continued trust, especially given the fact that I had stabbed the Thalmor in a way that would have delighted Cicero's demented heart before beheading him in front of Bryn. 'Gods,' I thought, rubbing a hand over my heavy eyes that found even the greyish morning light too bright. 'The fact that you need to scrabble for excuses as pathetic as those means you should just shut up.' There was nothing I could do to explain the flashes of rage that possessed me once I came near my prey; I became what I had once been when I had gotten drunk on Sithis' power. What I had told Bryn were just the cold facts.

Alduin knew what I had done. There was no way he could have missed the blood that remained in the intricate grooves of the armour, even if I had buried the pile of bloodstained snow which I had used to clean myself as thoroughly as I could. He had woken sometime in the night for his watch but I had simply looked at him and motioned for him to go back to bed. I could still smell blood faintly in the air; I knew he would too. Unlike Brynjolf, he didn't seem too unduly disturbed. Then again, even my best efforts amounted to the murders of multiple targets and victims; I'd never actually massacred an entire race or eaten worlds. If Alduin was right though, I was going to get that chance whether I wanted it or no.

Save this world and damn the next, the one that ought to have been if not for Alduin's greed. Was it murder? He had certainly made it sound as if it were. Do your duty. It was what kept me going even after my fall. That and the prospect of home, wherever that was. So what was my duty now if I was defending something that shouldn't even be? There were people that I loved, places that I cherished. And if I fought alone on that basis, because of how I felt and not what was right, how different would I be from the dragons who had battled because they loved the power, they cherished their temples and high places and treasure? The war between the Stormcloaks and Imperials was rife with grey areas but my battle with Alduin I had always seen as starkly as black from white. Until now.

My head hurt and I was about to mount up on Shadowmere when Brynjolf approached me. He was carrying my pack; I'd forgotten it. Stifling a sigh, I reached out and he handed it to me. "A promise is a promise," he said quietly as my fingers curled around the leather straps. "We'll go there and come back again."

"What makes you think I'll make it back?" I muttered morosely and then instantly regretted it. Brynjolf closed his hand over mine.

"You'll make it. I'll make sure you do."

The tears came up too quickly to be hidden even though I looked down and blinked hard. Pressing my lips into a thin line, I nodded before turning away to tie the pack to Shadowmere's saddle. I didn't need to look to know that Alduin was watching us; I could feel the weight of his eyes. But distance was what I needed at the moment, distance from him even though time was running out and somehow he knew and he was giving it to me.

The huntress left first, undoubtedly spooked by the sight of me and Shadowmere as we emerged bloodied from the darkness of last night. She had hunted in the pass for years, according to her, and recently vampires had been on the prowl in the area. That was why she had been all too glad to share a camp with us. I wondered briefly how she would fare this coming night before putting it out of mind. She was far from stupid, if she had made it in this unforgiving place for that long, and she could take care of herself.

The snow started falling as we set off, climbing up the sloping path that led higher up into and through the mountains. It felt like a cage sometimes, with the continual white sweeping down, the heavy mists that roiled like a second sea over and around the jagged peaks of the mountains that surrounded us. Not for the first time did I think longingly about wings and the ease with which I could have crossed this if I had had them.

The bodies were missing. Shadowmere had smashed two of the Thalmor and left their broken bodies huddled against the walls of the mountain. The one I beheaded had left behind nothing more than blood on the ice. And since we were currently unmolested by wild beasts, I had to assume that the vampires which the huntress had spoken of were responsible. They must not have witnessed the attack though, and the corpses must have satisfied them sufficiently such that they had left us alone for the night.

"Something took the corpses." Alduin took his hand from my waist and dropped it to the sword at his side. I was about to tell him there was no need to when I remembered Hert and Hern who had moved about quite easily in broad daylight. It had been something of a rude shock to find out from Astrid that both had been vampires, given how warm and friendly they had been when I had bargained with them for some firewood and a couple of chicken eggs. They had even invited me to stay the night. I had thrown Hert's offer back in her face just before lopping off her head. Of course by then, Hern had been decapitated as well.

Looking behind, I saw Brynjolf had arrived at the same conclusion because he had drawn one dagger, its ebony and crimson riven blade the smaller twin to mine. "Stay alert. There has to be a nest somewhere. A cave, most likely." With all this snow, it would be hard to spot an ambush.

"I could clear the skies," Alduin offered as we rounded a particularly tight bend that suddenly veered downwards. Stones scattered behind, tumbling down but Shadowmere remained as unnaturally sure-footed as ever. He did turn back to snort at the chestnut stallion who shied further back, resulting in a very audible curse from Brynjolf. Behind me, Alduin chuckled and I shot him an exasperated look.

"Seriously? And no, please don't use the Thu'um. The sound would be magnified by the walls and there's no place to run or hide in this pass if a dragon shows up."

"Except for in there." He released my waist to point to the mouth of a cave that suddenly loomed through the curtains of snow. Oddly enough, there was a lamp with a flame burning within. It sat on a barrel, next to an abandoned cart that was falling to pieces and a low snowberry bush fat with berries that looked like droplets of blood.

"Into the belly of beasts," I said quietly. "Let's stay away from there as far as possible."

It meant going down a steeper part of the path but I would rather that then have vampires leap out and try to drag us in. Even after we passed it by, I kept turning back and made Brynjolf ride in front of us. Shadowmere was disgruntled—he wanted to be in the lead—but of the two mounts he was by far the more experienced combatant and more than equipped to take on at least one vampire alone.

Alduin's arm settled around my waist again, its weight comforting and I looked down to see his thumb brush slowly back and forth over the midnight leather. I wasn't sure if it was a deliberate or absent gesture but it made me want to turn back in his arms and ask him to just go away with me, away from destiny and duty and wars that threatened to rip the lands asunder, away from power-hungry Princes and absent Divines who made me but couldn't care less what happened to me or what I did. But there was no place to go to and I could run all I wanted from duty and never escape because I would carry it inside. So I bit down on my lip until it stung and I tasted blood, and gripped the reins hard so that I anchored myself against impossible desire until it passed.

"How do you know you are right?" The question spilled out of its own volition. Some things just couldn't be kept in, not indefinitely.

There was the lightest, briefest sharp intake of breath behind me but beyond that, nothing else betrayed his excitement at my question. It was a conversation both of us had been waiting for. "I know I am. My years exiled through time might not have been the most productive—except in terms of plotting vengeance. Meeting you, being bound in this flesh...I have been given time to think, made to reconsider all that I have previously known. It's not serving retribution that I desire. " He touched my shoulder and the pressure made me turn back to look up at him. "I will consume this world but as I used to consume all others, without any malice, without rage. I will no longer err, especially if I have you."

"There has never been a Dragonborn, or anyone, who has ever challenged you for a world's right to survive?"

"None," he said fiercely. "I am the god of destruction. The right is mine." His expression softened. "As you should be."

I refused to let him see how that affected me. "How will I survive if nothing is to remain?"

He hesitated for a moment before speaking. "I can take you away from this world. There are doors between worlds that I have opened and I will use such a one to remove you from Nirn. There is a plane in Aetherius which I call my own. I will leave you there, and I will return to you once I am done here."

The realm of the Aedra. Akatosh himself would preside over that place. Talos would be there. I would be safe from perhaps even Sithis himself. "I will still die," I reminded him, "grow old and perish."

"No mortal has ever resided in Aetherius, so I cannot say for certain what will or will not be where your mortal body is concerned. If the magic of my father's realm sustains it, then we will still be together at the very least. The pleasures of the flesh," he gave me a meaningful look that made my cheeks burn, "may be fulfilled by other means."

I was very proud of the fact that I refrained from pursuing that line of information further. After all, there were much more important things to consider than physical gratification, although the priestesses of Dibella would probably protest with less than tender means if I preached that to the public. "Hm," was all the sound I allowed myself to make. "And what if living in Aetherius does nothing to halt the effects of mortality?"

The arm around my waist tightened and Alduin pressed me fully against him. "Then your body will die and your dragon soul lives forever with me. All things must have a form and yours will be the dragon you are meant to be. I will see to it." The hunger in his voice shook me to my core because deep inside, I was just as hungry. "Say yes, Freyja. Stand aside and let me do my duty." His mouth brushed my ear and I shivered, closed my eyes. I felt his hand at the nape of my neck, wished it were his skin instead of his gauntlet. "Yours will be the reward." Cool leather and metal slid over my collarbones and up my neck, tracing the rise and fall of my throat as I swallowed. He tilted my chin up, my mouth parting to meet his.

Shadowmere stopped so abruptly that both of us jolted forward in the saddle. I looked up to see blazing red eyes glaring first at me and the Alduin. "Sorry," I apologised, knowing why he looked so absolutely and positively offended. "I'm sorry." Whether it was Alduin's plans to steal me away from Sithis or the near kiss, both would be equally reprehensible to him.

"An apology is most definitely not what I have in mind," Alduin bit out as he and Shadowmere engaged in a duel of deadly glares that did nothing and went nowhere except to make both of them even angrier with each other.

"Alright, that's enough. We're losing time and we need to be in Ivarstead by this evening. The Imperial Legion is definitely chasing after us and they may have sent word by wing to any camps or forts they have near that town. The last thing we need is to be fighting amongst ourselves."

Both the immortal horse and god ignored me.

"Right. I'll just hitch a ride with Brynjolf and leave you two alone. After all, we Nightingales should stick together—"

Shadowmere broke into a quick canter just as Alduin practically pinned me against him and told me in no uncertain terms that I was to abandon that foolish fantasy. "As you wish," I told him smugly, knowing that they knew that I knew that they had played right into my hands but were not willing to do otherwise.

"What I wish is for your answer. What will it be?"

"I have to think about it."

"But you know I am right." He didn't mean it as an argument, simply an irrefutable statement of fact, the way one would point out that there was a single sun during the day and two moons at night in the sky.

"About the cycle of life and death which this universe spins on? Yes. You are not lying to me." I turned back to look at him.

"I swear on my father's name." His eyes were luminous even through the slowly drifting snow.

He said no more but let me be as I looked forward again. The quiet confidence on his face was utterly unnerving though.

... ... ...

The sky was a deep rough blue pierced with the faintest reams of luminous pink, gold and green. The sky rainbow they called it. Brynjolf and I admired its beauty for all of two seconds before we dismounted, every muscle in our bodies aching even though we were shivering from the cold, thanks to the snowstorm we had endured during the last three hours until we made it through the pass. Alduin clearly didn't care about the beauty of nature at all but focused instead of untying our packs from Shadowmere's saddle since it was all I could do to keep my hands and in truth, the rest of my person, from shaking too hard. Surprisingly, he left me alone with Bryn, who was leading the visibly exhausted chestnut horse to the stables. "You go on in first lass. Get a drink to warm yourself. I'll join you once I find someone to look after him."

There were no regular stable hands in Ivarstead, but here, there was always someone willing to be paid for a little sideline work. So I took Brynjolf's suggestion and went in.

"Dragonborn!" Wilhelm called cheerfully. "Welcome as always to the Vilmeyr Inn. Your room is that way and your husband," he waggled his eyebrows at me, "is already inside. Congratulations on getting hitched!" He punctuated that last part by putting a mug of hot spiced mead into my hands and I forgot about the urge to shut his mouth.

"Dragonborn, you actually married!"

"Where did you meet him?"

"See, I told you that love would find a way..."

"A fine looking man for Skyrim's Dragonborn..."

"Let's have us a song! Lynly, do you know any ballads—"

I sighed. Half of Ivarstead would have to be at the inn just then and predictably, Alduin had seen fit to announce himself as my husband. "No songs please. No offence to you Lynly," I nodded apologetically at the blonde bard whose real name was Svidi, "and all of you here but I am exhausted and I need to be up the mountain first thing in the morning. Perhaps a round of drinks would suffice instead..."

Two rounds of drinks had sufficed, at a special price since I had helped clear out Shroud Hearth Barrow. By the time I managed to have a hot shower in the privacy of the room after chasing Alduin out, I was almost too tired to eat. But the thought of apple pies, sweetrolls and crème treats made me get up and sit down in the public dining area. I took one look at Brynjolf who was surrounded on either side by Svidi and of all people, Temba, and made a beeline for Alduin, who had chosen to sit elsewhere. Wilhelm brought a near obscene amount of food for Alduin and sweet treats for me and we spent the better part of half an hour stealing from each other's plates. Following that, we bid our fascinated audience a good night and collapsed into bed together. The temptation to fulfil any pleasures of the flesh, as Alduin put it, was promptly obliterated the moment my head touched the pillow because I fell asleep.

That night, I dreamed I killed him. The sky was boiling with stars and fire, red and blue and swirling with circles of clouds that led up to forever and nowhere. I dragged him down, pulled him out of the sky with a Shout I didn't know that I knew. He called my name as I put him to the sword again and again until it seemed as though lightning was splitting him from within. All the light in the world, bursting through his veins, setting him aglow in jagged splinters that joined up and mapped his body.

He shattered. I screamed.

But it was to silence that I woke, silence and hot tears and sobs that I suffocated with the edge of the pillow until I calmed myself down. Wrapped in the furs that he had stolen yet again, Alduin slept deeply and quietly, oblivious and blessedly ignorant as I drew my legs up against my heaving chest and wrapped my arms around me, staring into the darkness for answers it could not give.

In the morning, sleep finally came but I had less than an hour before Alduin woke me. Safe from other eyes within the four walls, he kissed me gently on the cheek and I tried not to cling too hard to him as, against my better judgement, I held him to me. He looked so pleased and it brought the horror of the night's dream back like the edge of a knife in my flesh.

I was going to have to choose but I couldn't. The thought haunted me even as I bargained with Boti for supplies and ignored Jofthor's pointed comments about not having children, especially now that I was married.

"How many times have you climbed this, lass?" Brynjolf stared at the steps leading upward before craning his head back all the way to stare up at the peak of the Monahven which from the foot of the mountain, could not possibly be seen. "You are entirely sure we can't bring that other horse?"

"Enough times to know that you can't bring an ordinary mount up there. Shadowmere won't be left behind," I ran my hand through his mane and he whickered, nudging me hard, "and is more surefooted than perhaps any other animal in this land. And even then, I'm not going to ride him."

"If you say so," Brynjolf agreed reluctantly. "How many days climb is it?"

"Five, if the weather is good. And if the ice wraiths and frost trolls have not multiplied that much since the last time I went up."

In the end, it took us six days because fate decided to gift us with another snowstorm that struck periodically during the journey up. I spent most of the time leaning against Shadowmere who planted himself like a shield against the driving snow. Alduin muttered repeatedly about not being able to use the Thu'um but since none of us had wings or a Shout that could ground a dragon, he was forced to refrain because none of us fancied taking on a gargantuan fire or frost breathing creature while stuck on a narrow path that felt, at the worst of times, just somewhat better than a ledge.

By the time the weather-beaten walls of High Hrothgar appeared, none of us were in the mood to be outdoors any longer than we could help it. The only exception was Shadowmere, who took great delight in showing off his boundless energy in front of Brynjolf and Alduin as the winds around us howled and whipped at the fur cloaks, trying to snatch them off us.

"What's that horse made of again, lass?" Brynjolf muttered.

"I don't know and I don't think you want to know either," I said curtly.

"Is there nowhere in this accursed land that is free of the presence of Talos and his likeness?" Alduin complained as we walked past the huge statue that greeted all travellers to monastery. "This is almost as bad as the one in Whiterun, just without that ridiculously entertaining priest."

I couldn't be bothered to respond to that because the small anxiety attacks that I had been suffering midway up the mountain were now turning into full blown ones.

How was I going to explain what I had done to the Greybeards? Where would I start? What would they do with Alduin? What if there was no way to undo the Shout? No, that was impossible. There had to be a way. If they didn't know, perhaps that mysterious leader of theirs who resided at the top of the mountain would. And what happened when we finally reversed it? I had to choose. I would have no choice but to choose.

Someone squeezed my hand hard and I looked up to see Bryn. "Just breathe," he mouthed and I gave him a smile that cracked before it was fully formed.

As a courtesy and out of habit, I knocked once to announce my arrival, banging my fist hard against the bronzed iron doors which to Alduin's further exasperation, bore engraved illustrations of Talos as well. I had barely begun to push them open when with a heavy groan, someone from within yanked on them and for the first time ever, I was confronted by Arngeir at the doorstep.

Usually the Greybeards looked unflappably serene and they truly were, which was probably why none of them had used the Thu'um to kill me when I had attempted to assassinate them for Sithis. Today however, Arngeir looked profoundly irritated with his brow wreathed in a frown that could only be described as fierce. The wrinkles on his cheeks seemed deeper, as were the lines around his mouth that were visible beneath that flaxen beard. He was clearly very unhappy.

"Your friends are here," he announced angrily.

"My friends?" I stared blankly at him.

"So they claim. The Blades are not to be trusted. They have always sought to turn the Dragonborn from the path of wisdom." Arngeir gave me a hard look. "I did not know you were in contact with them. We only let them in because the man had fallen quite ill."

What Arngeir did not know was that I was actually contemplating jumping off the mountainside without using the Shout which would turn me ethereal. Instinctively, I reached out and grabbed Alduin's hand. He had gone as hard and unmoving as that statue outside. The rage on his face made me tighten my grip even more. "Don't," I whispered. Brynjolf stepped away, circling from behind. I knew he was getting ready to jump on Alduin if my plea fell on deaf ears.

"And who are these people? You've never brought visitors ever since your housecarl." Because visitors were not actually encouraged, and understandably so. Because by the time I could afford to pay for a fighting companion, I was so terrified of having someone else die on me that I wouldn't do it.

Then something changed. The irritation on Arngeir's face flickered and began melting away as disbelief took its place. Ignoring Brynjolf completely, he stared at Alduin, those wise pale eyes never moving from his face even as he took a step back. I felt power rising, flowing along with the cold winds that streamed past us and blew snow into the halls. Further within, the lights from the braziers shuddered violently.

"What have you done?" It seemed like a small eternity had come and gone when Arngeir finally spoke, dread and wonder on his face and in his voice.

Oh gods, he knew. Just like that and he knew. "I don't know," I replied as figures in the background appeared.

"Freyja, thank Talos!" One of them broke away, hurrying forward. It was Delphine.

"I don't know," I whispered desperately as she bore down on us, oblivious to the danger so close by as I wondered wildly how I was going to resolve any of these situations. No answer came.