Chapter 17: Alot to Ponder

Arya's POV

"OD AH VIING!"

Arya and Orthorn jumped in their saddles as a voice thundered in the sky. Both of the horses that Arya and Orthorn rode, along with the other three they led, panicked at the sudden sound. The whites in their eyes showed as they frantically searched for danger. It took Arya and Orthorn several minutes to calm them down enough so they could continue their journey to Winterhold. Though there was little they could do for the anxious horses, they were now on full alert.

"What in Oblivion was that?" Arya asked as she looked around, almost as anxious as the horses. When she realised what she had said, she smiled. She'd spent enough time in Skyrim now that she had begun to adopt their sayings and terminologies.

Orthorn was a little shook, though less so, "At a guess, I would say that was the Dragonborn challenging a dragon," He said as he looked to the sky as if he were expecting a dragon to appear. "Before I... stole the books from the Arcanaeum, the only news worth talking about in Winterhold was the peace council. So that the Dragonborn could challenge a dragon."

"I've seen dragons and what they can do; I cannot understand what would compel someone to want to fight one," Arya answered as she stroked her horse's neck to help calm it further.

"I'd doubt that the Dragonborn wants to fight them," Orthorn said questioningly, "I think it is more of a 'have to' situation." He looked at Arya, "At first, I thought it all a load of crap. Dragons, the voice, the Dragonborn etc. Until I heard the Greybeards summon him."

Arya looked back at him, "The Greybeards? They're the monks that live in High Hrothgar? Did I get that right?"

"Yes," He answered with a smile, "As I said, I thought it was all crap. Until they summoned him, it wasn't as loud as that, but it was damn close. To imagine standing in front of them when they did it..." He shuddered.

"I've seen a draugr shout before. It was loud and threw everything in its path, but nothing like that."

"Yeah, I don't know," He said with a confused look, "I'll stick to magic. It's what I know and am good at."

"Aren't most High Elves?"

"Ha, true. But it's funny because magic comes so easily to most of us. Those that it doesn't; many Altmer tend to look down on. They're considered... incompetent? Looked down on? Lesser? Not quite sure of how to put it." He said as he thought.

"So most High Elves think themselves better than everyone else?"

"Well, yes. And stop saying 'High Elves,' It makes me feel like a knob," He looked at her smiling, "I'm a High Elf," He said in the most pompous way possible.

It made her smile, though she didn't say anything.

"To be honest with you. I don't blame Ghorbash for how he treated me. Many people don't like Altmer in general because of how most Altmer treat the other races."

"Ghorbash also fought for the empire in the war, though."

"Well, that would reinforce his hatred towards us," He sighed, "Even though I am not of the popular opinion amongst the Altmer that we're superior, it still takes a while to earn peoples respect. One of the downsides of being an Altmer."

"If it makes you feel better, I hate everyone equally."

He looked at her with one eyebrow raised.

"That is until I meet you and decide I like you," Arya said with a smile, "My past has taught me that there are very few people you can truly trust and that it shouldn't be given lightly because given a chance; they'll stab you in the back."

"Sounds like you've had a difficult past... Do you want to talk about it?" Orthorn asked. He appeared to be genuinely concerned.

"No," was her simple answer; her voice was plain and devoid of emotion.

Orthorn, unsure how to continue because of her harsh response, said nothing.

The pair continued to ride in silence; after a short while, Arya's mind drifted off as she thought about home. She wondered about how Bran and Sansa were handling their thrones, but most of all, she wondered how Jon was doing north of The Wall. She wondered how long she had since she had left Westeros. It would have to be between five and seven months since she had set sail. How long precisely though she couldn't say. She had forgotten to count the days when she had awoken at Ri'zima's camp. She allowed herself a small smile as she remembered her travels with him. She wasn't sure if she could have been more fortunate that he had been the one that found her. As she thought, she noticed that she had subconsciously reached up and held the amulet he had gifted her.

Suddenly Arya's horse shied to the side and threw its head in the air wildly as a roar came from overhead. Orthorn's mount did the same as with the other three. Her eyes shot to the sky; fear instantly building inside her. In the sky, she saw a giant crimson scaled dragon flying overhead.

"WA FEN DINOK DOVAHKIIN!"

Arya's jaw dropped as she heard the dragon speak. Its voice was like a deep majestic rumble; she had no idea what it had said, though. The dragon didn't look down at them or make any move to attack them. Instead, it flew straight overhead towards Whiterun; it only took moments when it was out of sight behind a nearby mountain.

"They speak!?" Arya half-shouted at Orthorn.

He looked just as surprised as her, "I'd heard stories but those I didn't believe..."

"I guess it's answering the challenge," Arya said as she calmed her horse.

Harrow's POV

Harrow stood on the Great Poarch overlooking the Whiterun's hold, scanning the sky as he searched for Odahviing. Standing beside him were Ghorbash and Balgruuf; it had been several hours since he had issued the challenge, and there was still no sign of the dragon.

"Are you certain the dragon heard you?" Balgruuf asked as he looked back at his men, who were sitting on the floor with their backs against either pillars or walls.

"He definitely heard me. I don't think I could have shouted any louder," Harrow answered.

"Well, thank fuck for that; my ears are still ringing, you bastard," Ghorbash grumbled.

Smirking at him, Harrow answered, "Mine are fine."

"Yeah, we're talking about me here."

Balgruuf was smiling as he watched the exchange, "How do you know the dragon isn't dead? You're not the only one who has been killing them; some companies have been hunting them down to try and earn a name for themselves."

Harrow shook his head, "It doesn't matter; with Alduin around, he can bring them back. I'm the only one who can properly kill them," Harrow looked at the Jarl, "I know you have your doubts, but Skyrim is massive; it may take him a while."

"I've seen those fuckers in the sky," Ghorbash added, "I think you summoned the slowest fucking dragon in existence."

The moment he finished speaking, horns sounded throughout the city, signalling that the dragon was in sight; Odahviing was close.

Balgruuf turned and shouted, "To your feet! It's time!"

The relaxed men and women behind them jumped into action, taking up positions and readying themselves. Balgruuf retreated inside and began issuing orders to the soldiers, Ghorbash however, he remained at Harrow's side.

"You need to get back," Harrow said as the dragon's wingbeat became audible.

"Not my first time," Ghorbash answered as he casually knocked an arrow to his bow, "And we need to entice this bastard to get close enough to either ground him or for you to use that Dragonrend shout."

"The shout is my preferred option."

"Of course, because it's only made easier when the dragon is in fine health," He answered.

Harrow didn't get to answer as Odahviing came into view; he was only moments away. Odahviing soared straight towards the Great Poarch; he extended his huge clawed legged at the last moment and attempted to grab either Harrow or Ghorbash. He was unsuccessful as they both rolled out of the way, but not before Ghorbash released an arrow that had struck him in the leg.

Harrow knew it would take a lot of arrows to have an effect; Odahviing was very large, one of the biggest dragons Harow had fought.

Odahviing paused and hovered above the Great Poarch; his massive wings created a resounding thud with each beat, "Here I am!" Odahviing's red eyes were fixed on Harrow, "WA FEN DINOK DOVAHKIIN!" He shouted before he released a torrent of flame at the porch. Ghorbash lept out of the way while Harrow raised his shield and took a knee; the fire that engulfed him didn't affect him much as they would normally. One of the enchantments on his armour made the fire more bearable, but it was still hot as Oblivion. While he could feel the heat all over him, his arm burned the most, with the shield heating up from taking the direct hit.

Odahviing flew over Dragonsreach and out of sight; no doubt he was circling back.

"The fuck did he say?" Ghorbash shouted as Harrow stood and jogged the edge.

"To the death!" Harrow answered.

Odahviing flew out past the balcony and circled back toward them; Harrow shouted at the dragon, "JOOR ZAH FRUL!"

Odahviing shot up over the shout with a powerful beat of his wings, "Zu'u fen ni kos fust was gol naal tol zaan lhaz Dovahkiin!" Odahving shouted as he again flew over their heads.

"What did it say that time?" Ghorbash again asked.

"I will not be forced to earth by that shout again!" Harrow shouted back, "Now stop fucking asking me to translate! I'll do it later!" He roared; he was sure Ghorbash was grinning.

This time Odahviing landed on the Great Poarch, his shudder under his weight. Harrow didn't get a chance to use Dragonrend as Odahviing again sent a torrent of fire his way. Rather than ducking back his shield, he met Odahviing shout with his own, "IIZ SLEN NUS!"

A powerful freezing and icy force shot towards Odahviing; the ice negated his fire and hit the dragon in the face. Frost appeared on the dragon head, but Harrow knew it had done next to nothing. Odahviing twisted and fell off the porch; extending his wings as he fell, he levelled out and began to climb again. But before he had, Harrow saw what looked like an impressed look cross the dragon's face.

Odahviing approached the porch; Harrow used the Dragonrend shout again. This time it hit the dragon. Odahviing spread his wings, struggling to stay in the air, but it was useless as he was forced to land on the porch.

Harrow quickly retreated towards the trap as Odahviing roared in frustration; he attempted to catch Harrow in his jaws but was unsuccessful. Blinded by rage at being caught by Dragonrend, the dragon advanced towards Harrow as he continued to back up.

Once in position, Harrow gave the signal, and the trap was activated. A huge wooden beam dropped from the ceiling and hit Odahviing on the neck just behind the head. The force of the impact drove the dragons head down to the floor, where the beams locked in place. Whiteruns guards rushed to either side and began throwing ropes over the dragon's body. Many of them were thrown about like dolls as Odahviing struggled to free himself. The entire ceiling rumbled and creaked with the force he used as he tried to break free. The thrashing dragon made it impossible to look up because of the dust that fell from the rathers.

Odahviing let out a roar before he shouted "FUS RO DAH!" straight at the door in front of him. The power of his shout blew the massive door off its hinges; the two sides of the door hit the walls and floor in a near-deafening bang; the sound echoed through the halls.

The rumbling ceased, and the dust in the air slowly settled as Odahviing stopped his struggle. Not because he was tired, but because he knew it was pointless.

"Horvutah med kodaav. Caught like a bear in a trap..." The dragon looked to the side where Harrow stood as the other cheered around him, "Zok frini grind ko grah drun viiki, Dovahkiin. Ah. I forget. You do not have the dovish speech."

"Zu'u dreh, nuz zu'u med wa tinvaak ko faal zah zul," Harrow answered.

Odahviing seemed please that Harrow had understood him in Dovah, "My... eagerness to meet you in battle was my... undoing, Dovahkiin. I salute your low cunning in devising such a grahmindol - strategem. Zu'u bonaar. You went to a great deal of trouble to put me in this... humiliating position Dovahkiin."

Harrow slowly walked slower to Odahviing's head but stood to the side where he couldn't shout directly at him, "I have questions. Questions that only a dragon can answer."

A deep grumbled came from Odahviing's throat, "Hind said Alduin. No doubt you want to know where he hides?"

"I've beaten him once, but that is not enough. I need to find where he gathers his strength and kill him for good."

Odahviing's gaze was fixed on Harrow; it seemed that the dragon did not care about anyone else in the hall, "One reason I came to your call was to test your Thu'um for myself. Many of us have begun to question Alduin's lordship, whether his Thu'um was truly the strongest. Among ourselves, of course. Mu ni meyye. None were yet ready to defy him openly."

"Are you one of those who have begun to question his lordship?" Harrow asked after he put in sword and shield down, showing he meant no harm.

"Yes. Your krongrah, victory over him at the Monhaven. The throat of the World has given me doubt."

"So, would you serve me? I have proven myself and defeated him once."

Odahviing made a sound that almost resembled a chuckle, "Aam? Serve you? ...no. Ni tiid. If and when you defeat Alduin, I may reconsider."

Ghorbash and Balgruuf now appeared, "Balgruuf, remember when we caught a dragon in the Dragonsreach?"

Balgruuf smiled, and several soldiers that heard laughed.

Odahviing swung his head to get a better look at them; the dragon said nothing but Harrow was sure it wasn't a good idea to be taunting the dragon.

Odahviing swung his head back to Harrow as he spoke, "Will you tell us where Alduin is hiding?"

"He has travelled to Sovngarde to regain his strength, devouring the sillesejoor... the souls of the mortal dead. A privilege he jealously guards... His door to Sovngarde is at Skuldalfn, one of his ancient fanes high in the eastern mountains. Mindoraan, pah ok middovahhe lahvraan til. I surely do not need to warn you that all his remaining strength is marshalled there. Zu'u lost ofan hin laan... now that I have answered your question, you will allow me to go free?"

"No, not that easy," Harrow answered, "There is much I don't know and could learn from you. How do I get to Skuldafn? I've never even heard of it."

Odahviing twisted his head in the trap to try and gain some comfort, "You have the Thu'um of a Dovah, but without the wings of one, you will never set foot in Skuldafn. Of course... I could fly you there. But not while imprisoned like this."

"It seems we're at a bit of an impasse here."

"Indeed. Orin brit ro. I cannot leave here until you defeat Alduin, which you cannot do without my help."

"Ha! The dragon has more wit than you, Harrow!" Ghorbash said.

Harrow frowned as he realised Odahviing was right, "Do you expect me to take your word? I could climb on your bach, and you could throw me off hundreds of feet above the ground."

"Ahraan. You wound me, Dovahkiin. I may not tell the whole truth, but I am no liar. Go and see for yourself. Zu'u ni bo nol het. I will be here... unless Alduin returns before you do."

Harrow was silent for a long moment, "I need to consider your proposal."

"I will be here, Dovahkiin."

Ri'zima's POV

Ri'zima sat with Barbette under the shade of a shallow cave in the late afternoon as they waited for the mountains to cast a big enough shadow for Barbette to continue travelling comfortably. Usually, they would have postponed until that time, but Barbette had expressed that she wanted to get away from the Sanctuary. He didn't care that he had heard Harrow challenge a dragon; his only concern was for Barbette at present.

She still had barely said a word as they travelled, and it was only because Ri'zima insisted that they had taken cover from the sun, giving Barbette the chance to remove her hood. He sat on a log across from her watching, as she stared at the fire between them.

"I lost faith in the Night Mother decades ago. I had begun to believe that she hadn't ever been real; just a story told to us by the leaders of the Brotherhood," Barbette said quietly as she stared at the fire. "When our sanctuaries started falling more frequently in Cyrodil, I prayed to her. But there was no response; the sanctuaries just continued to fall. So I came to Skyrim."

Ri'zima stared at her but didn't say a word; instead, he just listened.

"When I arrived eighty years ago, there were three sanctuaries still operating; now there's only one left in Tamriel..." Now, she looked up at Ri'zima, her face glazed, "And I have been chosen to be Listener." Barbette sighed, "What I don't understand is why me? Why not before now? Why someone who has no faith?"

"Perhaps you never lost faith," Ri'zima said, "Just hope, the two go hand in hand, do they not?"

"It's a possibility. Historically the Listener is the leader of the Brotherhood Zimy; I have no interest in taking that leadership from Astrid."

Ri'zima was quiet as he thought of what he should say, but before he could, Barbette continued, "Her voice... it was soft and sweet.. and even though she spoke at the same volume we do now, it came as a whisper. It was both terrifying and comforting to hear..."

"Did she say anything about why you were chosen?"

Barbette shook her head, "No, she just gave me the phrase to repeat to Cicero."

"Do you know what would have happened in the past?"

"Well, as far as I know, when a Listener died, a new Listener would be chosen from amongst the speakers, and the Silencer of the Speaker who was chosen would advance to Speaker."

"Silencer?" Ri'zima asked curiously.

"Assassin who worked directly for a Speaker," Barbette answered.

"Do you think that change is needed or is coming if the Night Mother broke her silence now? Perhaps she can see things that we cannot," Ri'zima asked hesitantly.

"I'm not sure, Zimy... But what I do know is that there are going to be difficult times ahead," Barbette said as she looked out of the cave.

"This one agrees. A lot has happened in such a short time, and depending on what this contract is, things could get more complicated," Ri'zima paused be he continued, "Barbette, there is something you should also know. Ri'zima was going to tell Astrid but decided now is not the best time."

Barbette looked at him curiously, "What is it, Zimy?"

"We know the Brotherhood is being hunted. This one knows who is hunting us; they're called The Penitis Oculatus. One of them captured this one in Markarth, and they know about you, Barbette." Ri'zima stared at her intensely, showing his concern, "They're hunting you."

"The Penitis Oculatus..." Barbette sighed, "That's hardly surprising. Its been their goal for over two hundred years. As for hunting me, it's not the first time I've been hunted."

Ri'zima smiled, "That, Ri'zima is aware of. But this organisation specifically targets the Dark Brotherhood, so they will know how we operate. And this one imagines they have fought their share of vampires and werewolves as a result."

Barbette looked at him curiously, "So you would charge in there like The Companions instead then?" She said with a small smile.

"No, this one is far too delicate for such things," He said with a grin.

"Please," Barbette answered with an amused expression.

Ri'zima chuckled; it was good to see her forgetting about the weight on her shoulders now, "But this one is convinced we cannot fight them like we usually would."

Barbette was quiet for a moment, "I see your point. It is a topic we would need to speak with Astrid about." Barbette looked out of the cave as she noticed the light fading, "I think it's time we continue. We have a lot of ground to cover," She said as she stood and dusted herself. "And Zimy..."

"Present," He said as they walked towards their horses.

"Thank you for this morning..."

Ri'zima turned and looked at her with a smile, "Anytime."

Language

Wa fen dinok Dovahkiin - To the death Dragonborn

Zu'u dreh, nuz zu'u med wa tinvaak ko faal zah zul - I do, but I would like to speak in the mortal tongue.