Hello again! I'm trully proud, this chapter didn't take that long to come. So today, we have some action. The Dragonborn...well, she tries. And Alduin? Well, I don't know how I ended up with this, but he is a cat.

5 – Dragon's lair break

Ænor had once talked with Cynric about his former job, while they were training in the Cistern beneath Riften. Her fellow thief had explained her that he used to be specialized in jailbreaks, until he failed and spent three years in some High-Rock dungeon. She knew some thieves enjoyed the thrill of escaping, and would get arrested on purpose, but Cynric's story had convinced her not to try. Today, however, this was not a challenge for fun, and she wished she had some experience.

The thief had explored all of her options : the main entrance required wings, or levitating abilities she didn't have. Digging her own way out was impossible without tools. Fighting Alduin was beyond her skills.

And so, she was thinking by the bathing pool when the quiet sound of water came to her ears. Ænor raised her head suddenly, smiling. This was not a simple water tank. The water came from somewhere, and had to go somewhere else! There was another way out. And she knew a waterbreathing spell, blessed be alteration magic.

Though she was proud of this plan, Ænor had mixed feelings about escaping. Wasn't she the one who decided to negociate with Alduin? Hey, she had tried, for like ten minutes. No, that wasn't nearly enough.

Fine. She was scared. The sudden realization hit her, along with a bit of shame. Yes, she was afraid of the dragon-monster-god living here, and didn't even know how the hell she was still alive. Communication had prooved itself...hard, at the very least, so the diplomatic option seemed beyond her reach. So yes, Ænor was trying to run away. The best thieves were the ones who never got caught, the ones who knew when it was time to run. And Ænor was a master thief. What? She never called herself a hero. Balgruuf did.

And so, the Dragonborn prepared for her escape bath. She needed to sleep a little, in order to make sure she would have enough magicka. The thief sneaked into the hoard room, hoping she would remain undetected. Ænor curled into a ball on the warm stone floor, hiding under a pile of furs with the hope their scent would mask hers. Sleep didn't really come, but at least she was able to rest. When the Breton felt her magic was back, she silently crawled away from Alduin's treasure without looking back.

Oh, who was she kidding, of course she had a thought for that gigantic pile of gold and precious artefacts. Such a strong thought that she actually left with a beautiful golden necklace wrapped around her forearm, and an elven dagger tied to her leg with a lovely silver chain. Just to make sure the journey back home would be peaceful, you know.

The dragon's lair was perfectly silent, and Ænor could barely hear the low breath of Alduin. Her own heartbeat seemed louder than a storm, in comparison. But step by step, the thief left the room and reached the pool. There, she entered the water cautiously, and swimmed to the edge of the room, where she supposed the exit was. After a few minutes, she located a hole in the stone, where water flew strongly. Alright then, all she had to do now was to take a deep breath, the last before she didn't know when.

Ænor inhaled, and dived into the hole. The flow was strong, she didn't had to swim to follow it. She went deeper into the mountain, and soon she felt the urge to breathe. She cast her waterbreathing spell, and kept following water. The temperature of the water had lowered, but just enough to make her shiver.

She couldn't see a thing. She hit the stone several times, and scratched herself as well. If she could feel her feet and hands, they would hurt.

By Azura, how long was this tunnel?! Though the thief considered herself lucky it was large enough for her, she wouldn't last much longer. She had cast her spell thrice, and wasn't sure she could do it again. Also, why was the water so cold? Since Alduin's cavern was warm, she didn't expect him to live in a cold area. But she was freezing by now, and maybe starting to panick a little more minute, and she was freaking out. She didn't even question the light she was now seeing. She was dying, for sure.

But very much to her surprise, Ænor wasn't dying. She had simply reached the end of the tunnel, and suddenly found herself colliding with the shore of a stream. She made it. She was outside. And…

She was freezing. There was snow everywhere, and with her soaked clothes whe would last…an hour? The Breton gathered her strength, and climbed from the stream. She couldn't feel her feet. Okay, don't panick girl, you are a Breton, you have magic in your veins, you can warm yourself! Shivering, she cast a simple fire spell, but all she got was a weak spark and…wow, she was feeling light-headed. Alright, she would probably not last an hour. Twenty minutes would be honest. Hey, when did she sit?

She was so stupid. And past caring, for that matter. She was going to die in the mountain, looking at the sky above. Sorry, not sorry, Akatosh. You should have picked another mortal. Would the god be mad at her? Yeah, probably. She could almost hear his roar as he would shove her soul to Oblivion in punishment. Wait.

Wasn't she actually hearing something? Oh, wathever, Ænor was tired of this shit.

Ænor felt nothing but warmth. Death wasn't that bad, after all. Void and warmth. Maybe that was Nocturnal's realm. She felt a hot breath on her skin, and sighed. There was a possibility that she was still alive, but the idea seemed exhausting and annoying, and so she drifted back to sleep.

When she awoke, the Dragonborn felt very much alive, and internally groaned. She wanted to stay in bed forever, couldn't the world just go away? She took a deep breath, and knew where she was before she opened her eyes. The silence, barely broken by a barely audible low breath. The smell of smoke and metal. The warmth.

She was back in Alduin's den. At that point, Ænor wasn't even sure of what she was feeling. Disappointment for her failed escape, relief for not being dead. She was also mad at herself for being so stupid and afraid of what would happen next.

All of these feelings were shoved aside by surprise when an arm wrapped around her waist to crash her against a hot body behind her. Her eyes snapped open, as she realized that Alduin was laying by her side. The dragon seemed to be in his human form, and was holding her in a tight embrace.

"Dovahkiin" he spoke low, nuzzling her hair.

"Hum, yes. Hello?"

"Hi los aan mey, mal gein. Hi los mul, nuz hin kopraan los sahlo."

Damn, she had almost missed it. She was starting to understand a few words though : hi los meant "you are". And if she remembered correctly their previous conversations, mey and sahlo meant "fool" and "weak". Rude.

"Ahem, say again please?" Ænor asked skeptically. The dragon sighed, sending a wave of heat upon her head. Which, after a near-death-by-hypothermia-experience, was actually nice.

"You are a fool, Dovahkiin. You are strong, but your body is mortal. Weak."

"Could you please stop calling me weak? It's not helping. But...thank you for saving me, I guess." Ænor sighed, sometimes she hated being polite. Alduin, however, seemed to appreciate it, as his embrace tightened and he growled in her hair, nearly purring. He didn't answer for a minute, and the Dragonborn wasn't sure how to act. She was wondering how he knew she was gone, and where to find her, but saved that question for later. For now, the Dragonborn was confused. She didn't exactly expect the World-Eater to behave like a giant cat. Because, yes, he was currently being a cat. And as to proove her right, Alduin suddenly grabbed her shoulder to pin her under him, so their eyes would meet.

"Why?" he growled. "Why did you do such a foolish thing?"

"What else did you expect me to do? I was stuck here!"

"You did not ask"

Wait. What? Was it really that simple? She thought...

"You...you would let me leave?"

"Niid."

Right. That was settled : he made no sense.

"But why? I know I am the intruder here, but I didn't mean to!" She exclaimed, frustrated. Silence ensued, until Alduin spoke again.

"Why?"

Ænor nearly rolled her eyes. He. Was. Exhausting. "Now you need to be more specific. I can't read your mind."

"Why do you want to leave?" He asked, staring straight into her eyes. The Dragonborn eyes widened a little.

"Because...because I have a home and a life, damn it! I didn't mean to come here, I just wish to go back home, is that so hard to understand?"

"So you do not want me?"

She opened her mouth. Then closed it. What? She was starting to suspect there was some heavy misunderstanding here.

"What? No, I mean that's not the point...!" She stuttered, making Alduin growl. "Then what is? I defeated you, provided for you and rescued you. Why do you still refuse?"

"That is not how it works!"

Alduin's roar filled the cave as if he was in his dragon form. The next second, he was kissing the Dragonborn with all his rage, holding her hips. But this time, Ænor didn't take it. She broke the kissed and shouted with all of her strength : "FUS RO DAH!"

And it worked. The World-Eater was thrown away, and she stood up with a rage-filled look.

"Stop acting like you own me, you obnoxious bloody brat! I only belong to myslef!" Ænor claimed, while he was transforming. Her eyes met his red gaze, and she hissed when he showed his fangs.

"It it not up to you to decide this, Dovahkiin. Hi los dii, nii los Akatosh qostiid. The prophecy. You cannot ignore it" he growled.

And then, much to the Dragonborn's surprise, he flew away and left his den.

Still trembling with rage – and maybe contained fear too – she sat down. So, Alduin wanted to make her his, for whatever that meant for dov. That explained some things. He also mentionned a prophecy. Ugh, Ænor hated prophecies. What was the point in living if everything had already been settled? Also, all the stories were clear on one point : you can't escape prophecies.

Was there a prophecy about the last Dragonborn and the World-Eater where they were...mates? No, that didn't make any sense. Then again, her life had made little sense, this week. Maybe she should consider the possibility of a divine prophecy, after all.

Fuck. Now, she needed a miracle.