She had only ever seen the jagged scars of the mountains, the long, flat plains, and the grey stone settlements of Skyrim from the view of the clouds high above. After a while, the steady rocking of the horse and the feeling of this Nord's arms around her faded away as she drank in the sight before her. Everything she saw seemed new and fresh to her. There was so much to take in – even when they crossed the dull, flat lands of grass and ponds, she was captivated. Curiosity came freely to a dragon and, despite how indifferent and the stubbornness that burned inside of her, she couldn't help but be fascinated by everything she saw. It was as if a new light had been cast across the land. One that wasn't tinted in blood and darkness. For just a moment, she wondered why Alduin was so convinced that everything had to burn in flames.
Behind her, the Nord didn't speak. He barely moved. He only had to twitch the reins slightly or shift his legs and the horse knew exactly which way he wanted to go. The snow and the ice melted away into autumn browns, golds and greens. They passed very little people and those they did either gave them a wide birth or paid them no mind at all. This wasn't the Skyrim Alduin had taught them of. One of pain and suffering and cruelty. Or was that just because of the body she was confined to?
Night began to fall and the familiar aurora of blinding colours spread itself across the blanket of black that made up the sky. At first the stars began to dot themselves across the void one by one and as the day waned away, streaks of colour slashed above them like deep cuts in skin. They didn't stop and the horse showed no signs of tiring. Each time her head nodded against her chest, she jerked upright and shook herself, refusing to succumb to the vulnerability that sleep brought. Even though she had slept for a hundred years, she had fought and travelled and gone without food - and sleep soon took her as it always did. She slumped against his chest and if he noticed he didn't acknowledge it, but his arms tightened around her slightly.
When she awoke she did with a start and to the unfamiliar noise of voices and the clanging of metal against metal. The smell of burning, of food, and the stench of humans hit her sensitive nostrils so hard that she jerked upright and snarled. Before she had any chance to aquaint herself with these new noises and smells assaulting her senses, a pair of hands were gripping her and lifting her from the horses' back.
'Steady now.' His voice in her ear startled her and she stumbled as her feet were planted onto the ground. Unused to spending so long on horseback, now she was on her own two feet, the world was spinning and a wave of sickness hit her like an axe to the head. He released her and her knees almost buckled beneath her. 'Stand up.' Ollric growled, his fingers wrapping themselves around her upper arm and holding her up.
'Get off of me.' She said and tried to wrench her arm away but he held fast. 'Where have you brought me, Dovahkiin?'
He didn't reply but instead propelled her forward through the open gates of the city. Their horse was led away by a guard who eyed them carefully but didn't ask any questions. The settlement was bustling with every different kind of person you would expect to find in Skyrim, and even some she didn't anticipate. No one paid them any kind of attention, too indulged in their own selves to care about a Nord and a cloaked girl.
'This is Whiterun. Perhaps you recall, the home of your kin Numinex?'
Even from behind her, she could feel the smirk on his lips and her blood boiled at the mention of this humiliation. Numinex. The only dragon to be captured at the hands of the Nords and then driven to madness and his eventual death by their cruelty. If she had had any doubts about Alduin eating the world before, the mention of this tale of atrocity soon drove them away.
Ollric didn't miss the way her gaze drifted up to Dragonsreach and the burning behind her eyes intensified, her fingernails digging half-moons into the palms of her hands. He wondered if she was imagining herself up there, imprisoned like the old dragon.
'You and Numinex are not so different,' he remarked almost pleasantly as he directed her through the busy streets of the city. 'Both trapped.' He paused at the door to a house, unlocked it easily, and swung it open. 'Both relying on humans to stay alive.'
The dragon stumbled inside the gloomy house, the only light coming from the last remaining embers that burned quietly in the fire pit in the centre. The house was depressingly bare. There were no books standing upon the shelves, plaques where weapons should have been proudly displayed were empty, and even the meagre amount of bread and cheese that had been carelessly left out on the table top were dusted with mould.
She flung the cloak from her shoulders and fixed him with a steady, irritated look. 'Hi tinvaak pogaas.' ['You talk too much.']
'What did I tell you about that language?' Ollric's eyes narrowed as he flung his pack and his sword down onto the closest table. He moved passed her, relishing in the way she quickly side stepped out of his way.
'There is no one here, Nord.' The word dripped from her lips like poison, the corners curving upwards into a sly smile. 'I could kill you right now and no one would know. Krii fin Dovahkiin?' ['Kill the Dragonborn?'] Ollric had paused. He was faced away from her, his shoulders tense and still, his head tilted to one side. 'My Master would be pleased.'
He was upon her before she even knew what was happening. One large hand wrapped around her neck and he slammed her back up against the wall of the house. Her bones cracked against the hard wood and she hissed in pain but her grin only widened as she stared up at him from where he held her. His fierce gaze seared into her own eyes and his fingers tightened until her lips were forced to part and she gasped slightly.
'Where is your master now, dragon?' He said quietly. 'You were not raised by him as the others were. You have awoken, you have used your pitiful Dragon tongue for all to hear and yet, there is still no sign of your beloved ruler.' Her smile faltered and he leaned in closer, his breath washing over her face as his grip tightened. 'Does it pain you to know that you are not only no use to him but just not worth living?'
Beneath his palm, her throat swallowed. He could feel the pressure against the palm of his hand. The prickle of heat was growing and he almost pulled away from the heat. He knew she wanted to bare her teeth, open her mouth and let the fire pour out and burn the flesh from his skeleton – but he also knew that without him she was helpless, and that despite their differences, she couldn't harm him, and so she remained in his grasp. His own dark eyes bore into hers, searching and intensifying with every second that passed. Despite it all she didn't flinch and she didn't make a sound but he felt her small fingers wrap around his wrist and he glared at her for a few more seconds before he dropped his hold and let her slump against the wall, gasping for breath.
They didn't speak after that. He moved about Breezehome, drinking and eating anything that came across his path, and she stayed in the corner that he had left her. The tension between them was like electricity and it could have been cut with a knife. Outside, night fell, and the light that had streamed through the slight windows waned away until all that was left was the soft glow from the fire. Eventually, the Nord dropped to sleep where he sat, his chin butting against his chest and his fingers resting lightly on the dagger by his waist. She wondered if he always slept this way, always on edge and waiting for the next attack. After their altercation, she hadn't taken her eyes off of him but eventually, and helped by the warmth from the flames, she drifted off.
A man. He was bathed in flame, his great sword high above his head.
'What have you done?'
That voice. It sent a shiver down her spine. Beneath her wing, the man roared and shouted, his feet planted heavy in the snow beneath them.
A flash of black scales. And then a red blaze.
She screeched. Flames, pain, a boundless agony surged through her body. Her bones broke and then froze beneath her skin. She screamed.
Then nothing.
It was screaming that woke him. An inhuman screech that pierced the air and dragged him from his dark dreams. Ollric sat up in a panic, sweat covered his skin as if it was his own nightmare that was troubling him. Even in the darkness that had crept from the fire burning out he could see her. Again, she had silently demanded that she would sleep on the floor and from his position on the bed he watched as she writhed and cried on the ground below him.
Her body was curled and tensed in a fetal position. Arms raised above her head as if something awful was falling upon her. Her skin was wet through with sweat, the clothes that had once covered her small body had been burned from the sheer heat that radiated from her and she lay, naked, in a pile of ashes. Instinct threw him from his bed and he gathered her up in his arms, pinning her own limbs to her sides to stop her from thrashing. Her hands instantly found his own under clothes and she was clinging to him, the soft linen gathered between her fingers and she buried her face into his chest, sobbing and shrieking.
'Wake up!' He commanded, shaking her slightly. 'You're dreaming, it's a dream.'
'Nid!' ['No!'] The word scratched from her throat over and over until she was twisting in his arms and vomiting onto the floor a dark red blood. Her body shook and Ollric held her, his hands gripping her own, unsure if she was trying to tear his throat out or her own.
Suddenly, she stilled, and her body went so cold that Ollric was almost certain her heart had stopped until he saw one great big panicked eye gazing up at him. Her body went limp in his arms and he released her. She slumped onto the wooden floorboards, her chest heaving and gasping for air. He didn't move away and instead stayed sitting with her while she spewed a disgusting blackness from her. Her fingers remained clinging to him.
'Help me.' The words startled him. They emerged scratchy and unnatural. He didn't look away as tears streamed down her cheeks. 'Don't take me back. Don't take me back to him.'
