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Sweat was running down her brow and various cuts leaked blood over her face and body. It was finally done. Alduin, the infamous world-eater, was no more. It was an odd feeling, between the strange almost eerie tranquility that fell over her and the fierce stinging and stabbing of her various wounds.
Dahlia Wintersnow was not about to let a few bleeding scrapes and cracked ribs slow her down. Her stubbornness was one of her best and worst qualities, depending on who you asked. Knowing that there was still more work to do, she sucked in a deep breath to calm the adrenaline flowing through her veins and immediately regretted it. Coughing, she sputtered and doubled over from sudden, sharp pain.
"Blast that damnable dragon and may he suffer thrice as much in the depths of Oblivion." Dahlia curses to herself before lifting her head to scan her surroundings. Probably something she should have done before now if she is completely honest with herself. The disorientation she suffered upon Tsun sending her back to Mundus certainly took its toll on her. Normally, she's always on top of what's going on around her. You have to be when dealing with dragons.
Upon taking in her current location, she finds herself not back at that dreadful ruin of Skuldafn, but instead at the Throat of the World. But if she is there, where is Paarthurnax? Did something happen to him? And what of Odahviin? The two dragons seem to be nowhere to be found at the present. Maybe they flew off to reign in their dovah brothers and sisters.
The answers to those questions come quickly as twin roars pierce the quiet of the peaceful mountain. Dahlia turns quickly to find two dragons: one a faded green and the other a rusted orange.
They swoop by quickly and take their respective landings near the lone word wall.
"Dovahkiin," the faded green Paarthurnax starts, "you have returned victorious."
Inclining her head slightly she says, "Aye, indeed I have, old friend. It was a heard fought battle, but the current world is now safe from Alduin's tyranny. Although, I can sense that this news does not give you cause for celebration."
"Niid. It does not. While he was lost in the ways of domination and destruction which often affect out kind, he was still my brother. I will mourn him for a while, but I know his departure was necessary. May he find peace wherever he has gone."
Dahlia shuffles her feet slightly. She understands the sentiment although she cannot share in his sadness. The dragons are her kin too in a strange way; she is after all of the dovah blood. However, Alduin was a menace and a threat to the very existence of Nirn, if not more.
"I can appreciate your grief even if I do not share it. I take no joy in killing, even if it was necessary." The solemnity of the situation presses awkwardly into her. She tries to dispel the feeling by turning to the other dragon.
She winces at the movement. Something that both dragons catch and make faces of concern.
"You should be resting, thuri. While you are indeed as mighty as a dovah, you must remember that you have the body of a joor. It requires rest."
She bats her hand at him as if waving off his well-placed concern will take away her pains. She'd heal them herself if she hadn't used up all of her remaining magicka supply to keep her from being a permanent resident of Sovengard. Once it returns, she'll cast a grand healing spell to fix everything up.
"Thank you for your concern, friend. However, you know as well as I that I have too many things to do, and they needed to be done yesterday."
"Too many things to do or being foolish?" Paarthurnax chimes in.
The look that Dahlia throws his way is of mild annoyance. She knows he means well, and she appreciates her dovah brother, but her wounds are making her irritable. That and she really does have more important things to do. Things that her Nord pride and love for Skyrim will not allow to rest until they are finished.
Instead of the peeved response she originally plans on passing through her chapped lips, she settles on a simple thank you as she turns to stare intently towards the northeast. This is her next destination. Nothing and no one will stop her from her purpose. Not even Paarthurnax.
As she is looking out contentedly from the peak of the Throat of the World, the Dovahkiin notices the snow which is falling softly in big, fluffy flakes that dance in the wind. It's cold, but the cold doesn't bother her. As a matter of fact, she embraces it as part of her heritage. It wakes her up from her reverie and puts her body into motion.
Casting a look over her shoulder, she asks Odahviin if he would be able to do a favor for her. He looks at her for a few moments as if assessing her current physical state of well-being before tilting his head to indicate he is listening. He already knows what she is going to ask.
"I am going to walk down the mountain to High Hrothgar to bring the news to Master Arngeir, and to see how Lydia is fairing. Hopefully, she is still in one piece after spending so much time standing still. And hopefully, the building is still in one piece," she chuckles a bit. "Then, I'd like for you to take me somewhere if that would be acceptable?"
Dahlia waits patiently as the rust-colored dragon decides on whether to grant her request or not. His scaley face gives away no answer as he stares out over the mountain top. Sometimes she wishes that dragons' faces were more expressive. Sure, it is easy to know if you have angered one or not, but anything in between is mostly just guesswork.
"Geh, only if you promise to get a few hours of sleep before we take off, Dovahkiin. Then, I will take you to wherever you feel the need to go." He finally decides on an answer, and she feels her body ever so slightly relax.
A few hours of sleep is a small price to pay for a quick ride down the mountain. Just thinking about walking makes her already aching feet hurt. Some rest won't kill her, at least not physically. Mentally is a whole other story.
She hesitates for a moment before stating, "We set course for Windhelm at first light. Lydia will be joining me as well. I know you aren't a pack mule, and I don't intend to treat you as one. But it's the fastest way to get off the mountain, and I need her with me."
The dragon snorts, a bit of smoke curling out of his snout as if he were offended, before turning his back and flying off. It's as good of an answer as she's going to get. She rubs her temples as if trying to massage a headache that is to come from the tantrum he'll throw later. Dragons. Who knew they were such children at times?
Before making her way down the mountain to the warm safety of the Greybeard's home, Dahlia once again looks to Paarthurnax. They study each other for a moment, understanding passing between them. He has always been more of a brother to her than anything else, especially considering that she is an only child.
He may be the leader of the Greybeards and a fierce, centuries-old dragon, but he does have a soft spot for her. It's clear from the look in his eyes that he holds no anger and no grudge against her for what she has done. It was her job, her destiny. He understands that. He walks a little closer to her to speak with her before she heads down. Who knows when he will see her next? And she is always busy with one mission or another. She'll run herself into the ground if no one stops her to remind her to eat or sleep.
"Dovahkiin, I know you have more things to do, and you will write your name more times than anyone can count in the history of Skyrim. But, I would be a poor friend if I did not caution you to not allow your sense of duty get in the way of living your life. You may have been destiny-bound to defeat Alduin, but you need to make sure you are looking out for yourself as well. Do not let others take advantage of you. Either for your kindness or your strength."
"I assure you that will not happen. Remember? I am too stubborn for that. I thank you for your concern, dear Paarthurnax, but what I must do now is for myself. Or rather for myself and for my home. It is one of the few things that I choose for myself. I have put it off too long, and I will not stand here and watch Skyrim tear itself apart…especially because of those Thalmor bastards."
"As long as it is you and your choice. Always remember that. You are too strong to let anyone else hold you down. I know you are a bleeding heart under that armor. Follow it, and you will do well."
"Thank you. I will always keep that advice with me wherever my path leads." She bows her head to him and takes a last look at her friend before adding, "And you know that there is no force on Nirn that can make me do anything I don't want to."
Paarthurn chuckles softly at her fire. She is passionate, but it will get her into trouble someday if she isn't careful.
As she walks away, the wind picks up as if it were pushing her towards her next great adventure. What will happen next? Only Akatosh knows. But for now, she must keep moving. Her muscles are starting to feel stiff, and she doesn't know how long she will be able to fight off her ever-growing sense of fatigue.
Shouting for clear skies, she puts one foot in front of the other and begins her descent. The walk is uneventful, and perhaps it could even be described as boring after what she just went though. Dahlia has never done well with boredom, but for the time being, she is content with a little less excitement in her life.
When the grey stone of High Hrothgar finally comes into view, she ever so slightly picks up her pace. As much as she complained about it to Paarthurnax and Odahviing, she really does need a good rest, and her destination is in sight. She opens the cold, iron door and slips in quickly so as not to let the cold air inside.
She makes her way towards the main chambers without running into anyone. Perhaps they are all asleep. Afterall, it is the middle of the night or what appears to be the middle of the night. She has no sense of what time it is and only knows that Masser and Secunda are still shining with a celestial glow in the skies.
She turns to the right and makes her way towards the sleeping chambers hoping to get a few good hours of rest in before making her way towards her next task. Therein, she finds several sleeping forms; Lydia being one of them snoring softly in one of the many stone beds. However, one shadowy figure is sitting upright in bed and turning to the sound of her footfalls on the stone floor.
"Master Arngeir, I hope I have not woken you from your slumber." Dahlia whispers.
It is impossible to see the facial expression on the old monk in the soft candlelight, but she imagines that maybe he is surprised or relieved or maybe even both. He says nothing for the moment, so she makes her way closer to him and takes a seat on the only empty bed in the room.
That seems to wake him from his temporary, late-night stupor.
"Dragonborn, you have returned to us. I assume that means you were triumphant. Have you defeated Alduin? Are you well?"
"Yes, my destiny is finally completed. It was a hard-fought battle, and I did not come out unscathed. But, I am mostly fine. I am going to try to get a few hours of sleep before I set out again in the morning. Would you mind letting Lydia know when she wakes? She will need to pack her things."
"Surely you do not plan on heading out so soon." He admonishes. "I can't see you well in this light, but I can see enough to know you're injured. No, you must stay here for a week, maybe two. You should meditate with us and find your way to peace."
She knows what Master Argneir is trying to do. He really is concerned for her, but more than that he wants her to convert back to the way of the voice and stay away from the violence below. Like that will ever happen. She is a woman of action and if she has the power to make things better, she will. As much as her time on the mountain was an enriching and interesting experience, it is no place for her.
"No, no." She shaking her head. "I know you want me to stay. Paarthurnax and Odaviing want me to stay. I can only imagine the fight that will ensue with Lydia when she sees what state I am in. But I can't. I have to go. I can't afford to sit still. I won't."
Arngeir sighs and runs a calloused hand over his face. He knows that once the Dragonborn has decided on something, her mind sticks to it as stubbornly as spriggan sap to a tree. There's no convincing her otherwise. The only thing he can do for her now is to make sure she does rest for a few hours and offer her a few health potions.
"Very well then, Dragonborn, I will bid you good night until the morrow. Try to get some sleep. I'll make sure Lydia is aware of your wishes. Although I can't guarantee she'll be happy with them."
Dahlia attempts to take off her damaged glass armor as best she can in her current state. She doesn't get very far, only accomplishing taking off her gauntlets before she swings her legs over the bed and tucks herself under some of the worn blankets. This will have to do for the moment. It's uncomfortable, but she is so tired that it doesn't matter. As soon as her head touches the pillow, her eyes start to close, but not before she mutters, "When is she ever happy with my decisions?" to no one in particular.