Sorry about the lack of updates, I'm taking summer classes and had an exam last week. Also writer's block is a bitch.

And now the moment you've all been waiting for: Mr. Martinet himself!

Minerva

As the last of the soldiers left the monastery, Minerva waved goodbye to her brother. Then she turned around and began searching for Master Arngeir.

She didn't have to search long, because it seemed that despite negotiations being over, someone had decided to stay behind.

"You know very well that you are not welcome here!"

"Oh, I know that. I just don't care."

"Delphine! Let's not get caught up in old grudges, please."

Minerva groaned. Great, just great. At least she didn't have to tell Master Arngeir about the Blades herself.

"You've hoarded your knowledge when it could be used to help others! You still are!"

"You do not understand of what you speak, Blade!" Minerva had never heard Master Arngier speak so sharply before. Even when she forgot the fact she was supposed to be quiet, he was always gentle with her. Granted, she was Dragonborn, but still...

"Then tell me which Shout can defeat Alduin."

Minerva's mouth dropped open. "Are you serious?"

As she opened the banquet hall door, all three people in the room turned to look at her. Master Arngier and Delphine, both looking very frustrated, as well as an elderly man that Minerva hadn't met before.

Master Arngier bowed slightly. "Dragonborn. You have returned."

Delphine crossed her arms. "Took you long enough," she grumbled. Master Arngier gave her a sideways glare.

Ignoring Delphine, Minerva reached into her pack and pulled out the horn. "I've brought the horn as requested. It was a trip and a half, I'll tell you."

She glared pointedly at Delphine, who crossed her arms. "You could at least say thanks."

Minerva rolled her eyes. "Oh. Yeah. Thanks for stealing the horn, dragging me across several holds, scaring the crap out of me with your shank murder closet, and sending my brother into the gods-danmed Thalmor Embassy for no fucking reason, making it so he'll probably have to dodge Thalmor assassins for the rest of his natural life!" Minerva took a huge inhale of breath. "Am I forgetting anything?"

The old man stared at Delphine in shock. "The Thalmor Embassy?"

Delphine shrugged. "Who else would benefit from such wanton destruction of Skyrim?"

"...shank murder closet?"

Minerva's stomach was burning with rage. This woman had put her brother's life in mortal danger and for what? A dead end? Breathe and focus. Breathe. And focus. Breathe...

Minerva decided looking away from Delphine would help. With some kind of willpower, she focused on the old man instead. "You must be Esbern, then?" Minerva shook her head. "I am so sorry." Esbern blinked at her in confusion. "Never mind. So what's this about a Shout?"

Esbern explained. After reuniting, he and Delphine had travelled to Markarth to find an old Akaviri temple, built by the Blades' predecessors. After entering, they found a wall with carvings showing the history of the Dragon War, including how it ended.

"To defeat Alduin, they used a Shout," Esbern finished.

Minerva frowned. "Which one?"

Esbern shook his head. "That's what we don't know. The wall's carving only showed the word for 'Shout'. Nothing specific. That's why we came here."

"I wasn't thrilled," noted Delphine, "but we didn't have much choice. Besides, there's something else I wanted to know for sure."

"What's that?" questioned Minerva. Delphine was silent. Minerva sighed and turned to Master Arngier. "So, all I need is a specific Shout? Is that it?"

Master Arngier pursed his lips. "It is true that the Tongues used a Shout to repel the World Eater long ago. But it is not known to me." He crossed his arms. "It is forbidden."

"Forbidden?" gasped Minerva.

"Of course," grumbled Delphine. "Typical. As I said, you hoard knowledge and don't deign to share it! You just sit up here, doing your stupid meditations while the world goes to Oblivion below you!" She jabbed a finger at Minerva. "If you had your way, she'd just be up here all the time, doing the same damned thing!"

"Hold your tongue, Blade!" snapped Master Arngier. Minerva and Esbern both took a step back out of shock. To her credit, Delphine stayed where she was, glaring at the Greybeard. "As I said. You. Know. Nothing. You. Still. Know. Nothing. And yet. You act like. You do." His gaze pierced Delphine.

The two stared at each other for a while. Finally, Delphine turned away. "Fine. Be that way." She strode past Arngier. "Come on, Esbern. We'll do it my way."

Esbern looked over his shoulder, shrugged. "I'll talk to her." He leaned towards Minerva and whispered. "Maybe...you could try talking to him. He trusts you, right?" And he followed Delphine out the door.

Master Arngier slumped into a chair, rubbing his temples. Minerva saw the three other Masters peeking around the doorframe. One by one, they strode into the room cautiously. It seemed they had been listening.

Master Borri walked up to Master Arngier and tapped his shoulder. "Are you okay?" he signed.

Master Arngier looked up. He looked tired. He sighed. "I will be fine." He stood up and dusted off his robes, turning towards Minerva. "I apologize, Dragonborn. You should not have...I lost control for a moment there."

Minerva laughed. "No apology necessary. I'm just glad to know I'm not the only one who thinks she's insufferable." She crossed her arms. "You guys really don't like each other, huh?"

Master Arngier looked Minerva in the eyes. "The Blades are warmongers. They have always tried to steer the Dragonborn away from the path of wisdom. They say they serve the Dragonborn. Heed my warning: They do not."

Minerva winced. "Yeah, I did get a controlling aura from her." She shook her head. "I'm not planning on meeting her again if I can't help it. Don't worry about that." But what about that Shout? She couldn't help but wonder. Damn Delphine! Now she would never stop wondering.

Master Wulfgar must've seen the look on her face, because he rolled his eyes and groaned. "Great, now she's curious too."

Minerva put her hands up. "I mean, if it's some kind of...I dunno...necromancy Shout or something, I can see why it's banned!"

There was total silence for a few seconds. Then Master Borri turned back to Master Arngeir. "You know what must be done now."

Master Arngier sighed and put his head in his hands. "Curse those Blades and their interference..." He looked up at Minerva, looking very annoyed. "There is...someone who will be able to help you. Our Grandmaster, Paarthunax, meditates on the very top of the Throat of the World."

Minerva was taken aback. She wasn't expecting that. "So...there's another Greybeard who I haven't met yet?"

"Not just a Greybeard. You could call him THE Greybeard. You were not ready to meet him. You are still not ready. But because of the Blades...it seems we have no choice."

I am ready! part of Minerva yelled. Haven't I proven myself by bringing the horn?

But they had to have their reasons, right? Minerva took some more deep breaths.

Master Arngier stood up. "But first, there is one last thing left to do. One last test, you could say."

Minerva took another deep breath and nodded, steeling herself. "I'm ready."

Paarthurnax

The old Greybeard watched from his perch as five figures strode into High Hrothgar's courtyard. One stood in the middle while four others surrounded her in a square.

Master Arngeir had kept him updated of the events at High Hrothgar, infrequent as they were. The arrival of the Dragonborn. The Civil War negotiations. The fact that the Blades had come and the reaffirming of Arngier's vows of secrecy.

It wasn't necessary. Paarthurnax trusted the Master, as he had all the previous ones. Besides, it's not as if the Blades were totally wrong about him...

The Grandmaster was shaken out of his thoughts as the Greybeards began to Shout, louder than the howling wind and snow that surrounded the mountain. It was entirely in Dovahzul, but of course Paarthunax understood it. It was his mother tongue after all.

Long in sorrow has waited the Stormcrown

With no worthy head to rest on

By our Voice we give it now, Dragonborn

By the Power of Kyne, by the Power of Shor, and by the Power of Atmora of old!

Become now Ysmir, Dragon of the North!

Remember these words!

The Shouts rang in the air for several seconds after the Greybeards had finished. The figure in the middle was still standing, albeit a bit unsteady. Paarthunax nodded in satisfaction, then stretched his wings. It wouldn't be long now. He should get in a good flight before she arrived.

Minerva

LOK VAH KOOR!

Minerva panted hard as she climbed the mountain. Despite the biting cold, she was sweating buckets from the combined effort of Shouting and hiking. She should rest, but she couldn't. If Paarthurnax really knew how to defeat Alduin...

There was a snap behind her. "Who's there?" Minerva yelled hoarsely, spinning around.

She scanned the path behind her. Nothing but the blinding snowstorm that was making her stop and Shout to clear the way every five seconds.

That's the third or fourth time, Minerva thought. But who could be following her, anyways? One of the Greybeards? But sneaking didn't seem their style...

LOK VAH KOOR! Minerva panted as she finally felt the path flatten out under her feet. She looked up and couldn't help gasping.

Despite the raging storm around the base, the Throat of the World had a clear sky. It was night by this point, and Minerva could see the stars twinkling above. They were holes leading to Aetherius, she remembered. They were what allowed Magicka to flow into the world.

Masser and Secunda were both round and large in the sky. And there was an aurora shimmering between the two moons, green and blue and pink. "Wow..."

"Lok los brit. It is beautiful tonight, is it not?"

Minerva yelped and jumped, slipping on the icy snow and landing hard on her butt. "Ow ow ow!"

Minerva stood back up, shaking the snow off herself, and looked around wildly for the speaker.

Apparently she'd been so focused on the view that she had somehow missed the bigass dragon standing on a Word Wall next to her.

Minerva promptly fell on her butt again. "How who wha-" She blinked several times.

The dragon didn't seem to be hostile. It...he was just sitting there, looking at the sky. He turned to face her. "Drem yol lok, Dovahkiin. I am Paarthunax."

Minerva blinked. "Um...hi. Hello." She waved. Great first impression, Min. She looked the dragon up and down. "You know, this actually makes more sense then what I was thinking originally." The dragon cocked his head. "I mean...the etchings didn't say anything about Paarthunax...you being a dragon. So I kinda assumed you were a human, which was kind of dumb in hindsight really. I figured it was some kinda thing where every Grandmaster took the name as a legacy thing..." Minerva shook her head. "Ugh, rambling, sorry. I guess what I'm saying is that it makes sense that a dragon would teach people how to Shout. In hindsight."

Paarthunax chuckled. "I am indeed as my father Akatosh made me. As are you, Dovahkiin." He stretched his wings and looked up at the sky. "And, yes. The Greybeards see me as a master. Wuth. Onik. Old and wise. Well, it is true that I am old..." He looked back at Minerva. "I know what you have come to ask. It has been foretold for many eras."

Minerva blinked. "For many eras? You were expecting Alduin to attack?"

Paarthunax hummed. "Geh. Niid. Yes and no. Do you know why I make my home on Monahven? What you call "The Throat of the World"?"

Minerva looked up at the sky and gestured to the aurora. "I mean...the view seems nice. But that's not the only reason, right?"

"The view is certainly a sight. But no, that is not exactly it." Paarthunax blinked. "But first, another question: why must you defeat Alduin?"

MInerva started. "Why? Well...if Onmund's right, then he's going to end the world right? I don't want that!"

"And yet all things must end, eventually. Perhaps this world is simply the egg of the next kalpa, the next world. Lein volkaan. Would you stop the next world from being born?"

Minerva frowned. "Next world? So, what, he destroys this world and a new world appears in its place? Is that how this works?"

Paarthunax nodded again. "Geh. That is "how it works". How it will be, and how it always has been. Alduin has ended the world many, many times before. Such is his duty."

Minerva threw her head back in exasperation. "Ugh! I didn't come to debate philosophy! If the world is supposed to end, then why in Oblivion am I here? If being Dragonborn is supposed to be some sort of Divines-given thing, then that means they want to give this world a fighting chance, right? The next world can wait a little longer, right?"

Minerva wasn't sure if a dragon could smirk, but if they could Paarthunax was definitely doing it. "Didn't come to debate philosophy, hm? Haha! You have much to learn of the dov, then. It is no accident that we battle with our Thu'um, our Voices. Philosophy and battle are one and the same to a dov. Tinvaak los grah. For us it is one and the same." His expression became neutral again. "However, you do have a point. So back to the original question: why am I here?" He looked at the horizon. "Alduin is the eldest. Zeymah. Gifted, grasping, and troublesome. As is often the case with firstborn."

Minerva thought of Gildas and snorted. "Not in my experience. Usually it's the youngest that's the trouble."

"Eldest and youngest. Wuth ahrk goraan. Two sides of the same coin, in a sense."

"Huh? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, the people of this land know that this place is important. What they have forgotten is why. This is the most sacred mountain. The greatest mountain in the world. This is where the ancient Tongues, the first mortal masters of the voice..." Paarthunax paused, seemingly lost in though for a moment. "...brought Alduin to battle and defeated him."

"With the Dragonrend Shout, right?" questioned Minerva. "Do you know it?"

"Patience. Alduin was not truely defeated, as you well know. If he was, you would not be here, seeking to defeat him."

"So...Dragonrend didn't work? Why's it so dangerous then? Why is it forbidden?"

Paarthunax seemed to smile a bit. "Hmm. They are protective of me. Bahlaan fahdonne. The Greybeards do not wish to see me harmed. You see, Dragonrend...is different from all other shouts. Joor wahlaan. It is the only Shout created by mortals. It can only be learned by mortals. It is...against the very being of a dragon. The Shout embodies mortality, limited time. It is something the dov cannot comprehend."

"And you need to comprehend a Shout to use it," finished Minerva. "So you don't know it. I mean, it seems like it didn't work anyways. So...what happened?"

"The ancient Nord were able to cripple Alduin with the Shout. But it was not enough." Paarthunax gestured with one wing. "Do you see that light over there?"

Minerva hadn't seen it before, since she'd been too busy looking at the sky. But following where Paarthunax was pointing, she could see something a few feet away that definitely wasn't a star. It reminded her more of the pools of magicka at the college. But as Minerva hopped up and went to study it, it was obvious there was much more power coming from it. She was tempted to poke it but... "It looks like...a spiderweb? Or a crack?"

Paarthunax nodded. "Alduin...ok maad unslaad. He would not die. So they used a Kel, an Elder Scroll, to send him forward in time."

Minerva wheeled around. "Wait, an Elder Scroll? Like those things they used to have in the Imperial Library? That can predict the future or something? Those scrolls? How did they send him..." Minerva shook her head. "What do you mean, 'forward in time'?"

Paarthunax hummed again. "How to explain this...the dov have words for such things that the joorre do not. The Elder Scrolls exist outside of time. They are fragments of creation. It is true that they have been used for prophecy. Your own prophecy comes from one of them. But that is only a small fraction of their power." Paarthunax sighed. "You understand, they did not intend to send Alduin forward in time. They hoped he would be banished forever. I knew that was not to be. That is why I am here. Time was...shattered here by the Elder Scroll. You see the evidence before you. I knew Alduin would return. I knew where, but not when."

"So you kept watch here to see when he would pop out. And eventually he did..." And Helgen was attacked. Minerva grimaced just thinking about it. "You know what happened with Helgen right? Alduin attacked it. Why Helgen?"

Paarthunax shook his head. "Alduin lost ruth. Alduin was full of rage and anger when he emerged. It's possible he simply attacked the first town he saw. Or...perhaps he sensed your presence, Dovahkiin. Perhaps he knew you were a threat and sought to eliminate you."

Minerva's chest squeezed. "Helgen was attacked...because of me? Because I was there?"

"Niid, Dovahkiin. Helgen was attacked because of Alduin. Ok folaas. It is his fault, not yours."

Minerva knew that. She knew that. But..."How do I stop him?" If Paarthunax didn't...couldn't know the shout...if even that wasn't enough..."I...please...Paarthunax I don't want this world to end. I don't want another Helgen or...worse." In her mind's eye, she saw it. Winterhold smoking. The college burned. Her home in Anvil up in flames. "Please..." Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry! Her face felt wet. Shit.

Minerva heard snow crunching behind her, and she felt something leathery settle on her back. She looked up and realized Paarthunax had wrapped his wing around her shoulders. "Faas niid. Tiid krent. Time was...shattered here because of what the ancient Nords did. If you could bring the Kel, the Elder Scroll, to this Tiid-Ahraan, the time wound...you might be able to cast yourself back. You might be able to see the events of long ago, and learn Dragonrend from those who created it."

Minerva wiped her eyes. "But all the Elder Scrolls disappeared from the library! I wouldn't have the first idea where to find one!" She paused, then smiled a bit. "But I think I know someone who might!"

Delphine

Delphine held her breath as Minerva waved goodbye to the dragon and headed down the mountain. She'd walked past the ledge Delphine was hiding behind several times. Luckily it was still night out.

What a failure. Some "Ultimate Dragonslayer" she was. Delphine grimaced. She should've known after Minerva started flipping her lid at her brother being sent in. Couldn't she see that the infromation they'd gotten was worth it. To make an omlette, you had to break a few eggs.

Minerva didn't get that. She didn't understand anything. It was the Greybeards' fault, really. But Minerva's stubborness and unwillingness to follow Delphine was all her own.

And she'd talked with the dragon. Talked with it! Sure she'd gotten information, but what was that next to all the crimes it had committed.

She had no idea. As usual.

Delphine grasped her katana. Fine. She'd do it herself.

Here's the thing about Delphine: I can forgive her for the thing with the Thalmor. Her logic did make sense because nobody knew about the whole Elder Scroll thing. And the Thalmor have powerful mages, so if anyone would know how to resurrect a long-dead being, it'd be them or the Psijic Order. The reason Minerva is ticked is because Delphine got her brother involved for seemingly no real reason.

But I can't forgive her for the Paarthurnax thing. He did some shitty stuff, sure, but he was also the first defector from Alduin's forces, and he really doesn't get enough credit for isolating himself for millennia. That takes discipline and guts, even for an immortal being.

And Delphine has the nerve to say "We needed his help. Now we don't." Like what the hell? I thought I'd keep her reasonable in this fic, but that kind of went out the window when we got to this point.

And I know there's no point in being coy about who Paarthunax actually is given how long the game's been out, but I couldn't help myself, it's fun! :)