Chapter 11

Training in the Way of the Voice

Every few days Rona was trained on three new Words of Power which created a full thu'um. Arngeir insisted that she meditate and practice each set for several days. She knew he was treating her as a simple acolyte instead of the Dragonborn. This is how Arngeir always taught and he was so thrown by her mastery of the words that he wanted her to take more time to learn them as though she didn't already understand as immediately as she did. She could sense his jealousy at her power and by the fourth week she'd have given anything to just grant her powers over to him so she wouldn't be stuck aimlessly wandering the grounds thinking about the Words of Power for no reason at all.

Bishop also quickly grew weary of mulling around the monastery and left every few days. The two of them went from playful flirtation to regular bickering. Both were taking their frustrations out on the other. To alleviate this Bishop decided to head back down the mountain and into Ivarstead at least twice a week.

While there he stocked up on food supplies and did some hunting with Karnwyr. This helped a lot and gave Rona something to look forward to between her dull training sessions and her even duller meditations.

When Bishop came back he cooked large pots of stew and delicious platters of venison. Rona appreciated it more than anything because the Greybeards really didn't have much to eat other than hard bread, dried jerky and moldy fruit.

And although the Greybeards followed their philosophy of avoiding indulgence, every evening the mouthwatering scent of Bishop's cooking would drift through the entire monastery. As Rona would be enjoying dinner with her companion, each one of the Greybeards would appear with a small bowl or plate in hand, each at separate times as though hiding it from one another. Bishop would smirk and oblige them by filling their plates and bowls and they'd politely nod then swiftly disappear down a dark corridor no doubt to eat their supper without being seen by the others.

Arngeir was the last one of the evening to walk by and as he leaned over the broiling stew pot to get a whiff of the delectable scent he said, "What an inviting aroma. Bishop, perhaps you won't mind if I take a small bowl?"

Bishop leaned back in his chair, half lidded eyes and said, "Careful now Arngeir, don't want you to indulge too much."

Arngeir had given up correcting Bishop on his lack of formal titles. They both referred to one another by their first names, though whenever Arngeir called him young man, Bishop was sure to shoot old man right back at him.

The stodgy Greybeard was already ladling a helping into a bowl when he said, "Ah, it would be far more displeasurable to Lady Kynareth if we were to let such so much precious food go to waste."

He grabbed a fresh bread roll, swept a thick helping of butter through it and vanished down a corridor.

Bishop turned back to Rona thumbing behind him, "Is it just me or are those four getting fatter?"

Rona laughed, "Well if you weren't such a great cook."

Bishop shook his head, "You flatter me Ladyship. Still, I just can't wait to see two of them bump into each other already and spill their bowls all over the place."

"Oh, I already saw Wulfgar and Bolli pass by one another the other day. Bolli just finished his plate and Wulfgar had one of your pheasant roasts in his mouth as they made eye contact. I think they have some sort of unspoken agreement when it comes to your meals because Wulfgar just kept walking and Bolli picked at the crumbs on his plate."

"Unspoken indeed, I don't think I've ever heard those three say anything."

"Master Arngeir said it's because their voices are too powerful for those not trained in the Way...I did hear Master Wulfgar speak to me once, although he just whispered Dovahkiin - and I thought my eardrums were going to rupture."

"Damn..." Bishop mumbled through a mouthful of stew.

Rona finished her bowl and pushed it aside on the table then pulled a scrap of parchment from her pouch and a quill and started writing on it.

Bishop looked over at her inquisitively and said, "What're you doing?"

"You're heading back into town tomorrow right?"

"Yeah, probably. We're already out of venison with the way those four eat."

"I need you to give this letter to a courier if you can," she finished signing the letter at the bottom and looked it over frowning at her work. "Hm... well it'll have to do I suppose."

Bishop leaned over the table to glance at the paper and scowled, "The hell is all that nonsense?"

"It's Aldmeri, I'm writing a letter to Ata."

"What's it say?"

"Just told him about...well, everything. My trip here, everything about my mother, the fights with the dragons and...well...that I'm Dragonborn."

Bishop leaned back and put a boot up onto the table, causing the dishware to clatter, "Yeah? How's he going to take that you think?"

"About me being Dragonborn? He'll be proud I'm sure, but worried too."

"And what about the part where you tell him you were nearly executed by the faction he works for?"

She folded the paper and sighed, "I don't know. Knowing him he'll probably speak directly to the Emperor and the heads of the Imperial Guard. I'm sure plenty of officials will be disciplined for nearly executing the Arch-Mage's only daughter."

Bishop smirked and looked into her face, "You want them to get punished don't you?"

She put her head in her hands and leaned on the table, "Kind of...maybe? I don't know. What they did was just...it was horrible. I'd rather it never happened to anyone ever again and if it takes a letter like this then so be it."

"Well they'll be shitting bricks when they find out they nearly murdered the Dragonborn. Somebody's losing their job over it," he looked away thoughtfully and said, "I wonder if they'll replace General Tulius?"

She shrugged, "I could care less, honestly. I just hope Ata writes before he comes rushing up to Skyrim."

"Hah, now that I'd like to see, an all powerful mage burning Imperials to the ground looking for you."

Her stomach turned at the thought and she looked down at the letter and considered rewriting it but Bishop snatched it from her and stood up.

"Hey!" Rona cried and leapt from her seat to try and get it back from him.

"Ah, ah, ah. Don't go changing your mind now Princess. This letter is going to make waves. I'll be sure to pay the courier a hefty fee to get it there quick," he proceeded to stuff the letter into his trousers and dared her to take it from him, "Unless you really want it back, feel free to take it."

"This isn't funny Bishop! Give it back now!" she demanded furiously.

He raised an eyebrow at her sudden ferocity and taunted her still, "Tsk, tsk, tsk. A lady shouldn't raise her voice like that."

She was so aggravated by his behavior and was absolutely not in the mood for his perverse games and slapped him.

"Don't do it again wench," he growled at her.

She hit him again, glaring fiercely at him and he repeated himself. She went in for a third strike and he grabbed her wrist twisting her arm sharply and pulling her back against him.

She muttered crossly, "So this is how you like it?"

He shoved her off of him, yanked the letter from his trousers and threw it at her. "No. I don't."

Rona watched, stunned as he walked away without another word. She wasn't sure what to make of what had just happened, she felt angry and flustered all at once. She stuffed the letter back into her pouch, ran to her room to grab her lute and stormed outside to cool off. She climbed the stairs to the tower overlooking the monastery. She was thankful that none of the Greybeards were up there because she didn't feel like dealing with the awkward silence or having Arngeir talk her ears off about Dragonborn history or the Way of the Voice.

She leaned back against a pillar and stared out at the clear sky and the full moon prominently hanging above the mountain peak. Her mind was running through what just happened between her and Bishop. They'd gotten along just fine before all this. Though she knew the stagnant lifestyle was starting to really get to them and they were both beginning to nitpick at one another each and every day, Rona especially began to take her frustrations out on him and regretted it every time.

She didn't want to fight with him. She wanted…honestly she didn't know what she wanted. She cared about him, maybe even liked him. She enjoyed flirting with him and being around him, but it wasn't enough to be together stuck in a place like this. Rona wanted to leave soon, though she was most definitely not done with her training. If Arngeir had it his way she'd be there for another fifty years sitting around and thinking about words.

She plucked at her lute and started humming. Even singing was becoming difficult. Nothing inspired her anymore. When she was traveling she always got to see something new, but when she was there, up on the mountain the only inspiring thing was the aurora borealis in the night sky and even then it was often shrouded in clouds and snowing.

She tried to sing. A few words left her mouth but fell flat. She tried again and got so frustrated at the sound that she leapt up and shouted, "Why does he have to be like that!?" She paced back and forth in short sweeps and grumbled loudly, "It's just so inappropriate! So disgusting! So rude! I don't get it! Why can't he just court me like a normal suitor!? Is it that hard to admit he likes me!? Why does he have to be so…so obnoxious!?"

As she spun around the breath sucked straight back down her throat and she went pale. She felt a chill run up her spine and her hands got clammy as she froze just staring at the thing. Perched there, clutching at the pillar she'd been leaning against only moments ago and gazing inward at her was an enormous grey dragon. She hadn't even heard it when it landed on the tower.

The dragon gazed at her, then blinked and said in a gentle, baritone voice, "Krosis Dovahkiin. I did not mean to frighten you. I could…sense your frustration and came near. When I heard you playing your instrument I grew curious..."

Rona opened her mouth and made to speak but the words wouldn't come. She was trembling all over and her hand instinctively felt for her dagger, but her weapons were down in the monastery, sitting on a table in her room. Still this dragon wasn't trying to kill her...at the moment. But he was curious about her? He turned his head like a bird to get a better look at her. She saw his pupil dilating and contracting.

His enormous maw opened and closed slightly as he spoke again, "You need not fear me vahdin. We have met once before...briefly."

She realized it then that this was the great grey dragon who saved her life from the other dragon upon the seven thousand steps. She relaxed slightly and breathed, "You...you were the dragon that killed the other one."

"Geh," he rumbled, though she did not understand. He clarified, "Yes. I heard the call of the dov. I left my roost to see the pilgrimage of dovahkiin along the seven thousand steps. I did not mean to interfere with your grah... your battle. Krosis. You appeared to be outmatched so I intervened."

"Thank you," she said, "You saved mine and my companion's lives."

She wasn't sure but the dragon seemed to smile slightly and said, "I would make a request of you dovahkiin."

She hesitated, not sure if she could really trust the fearsome creature, "What would you ask of me?"

"Zu'u paar wah hon aan lovaas. I wish to hear your voice, to hear a song."

She cocked an eyebrow at him, "You just...want me to sing?"

"Geh... your voice carried up to my roost, but all has been quiet for some time. I must admit, the absence of your lovaas... your song, has left me restless."

Rona faltered a moment before mustering up her courage and stepped forward boldly. The dragon pulled his head away so that she could sit on the edge of the tower. She grasped her lute and strummed the strings, making them ring with sound.

She paused and looked into the face of the waiting dragon and asked, "What would you like to hear?"

His low voice rumbled softly, "I will gladly hear anything the brit vahdin... the lovely maiden wants to sing."

She couldn't believe she was conversing with a dragon. The songs should have been drowning her thoughts, what could be more inspiring? More amazing than this? And yet her mind wandered back to Bishop and her heart hurt. How could she have hit him like that? He was just being playful, being himself. How could I be so cruel?

She started playing her lute with great feeling. Her passion flowed as she plucked each note perfectly and the lyrics graced her lips.

(The song is You Don't Know Me by Erutan)

"The rain now falls
Each drop an agony
The war has come
Without you next to me

Oh, wandering love
Farther with every mile
Know no defeat
Through ice and dragon fire

Come back to me if I fall
Please believe you once loved me
Though you don't know me

The arrows fly
Points tipped in misery
To ruins laid
Our home, our sanctuary

Smoke fills the skies
All the world's a burning ember
Shall our love die
With no one to remember?

Hold on to me and what was
Please believe you once loved me
Though you don't know me

Come back to me if I fall
Please believe you once loved me
Though you don't know me."

The dragon at one point closed his eyes and listening closely to her song, swayed his head slightly to match the rhythm. As Rona finished he turned his head to face her straight on and said, "Brit nuz tiiraaz... beautiful but sad. You sing from your soul dovahkiin. Your feelings etched in every word. Bormahu was wise to grant joor vahdin... human women with the thu'um. There is no dov that could, nor would, express such brii - such beauty, in this way."

Rona looked up at him and said, "You knew other Dragonborn women? Like me?"

"Geh. Eira do Yot Sol...I once knew Eira of White Fire. She was the first. I sense her blood in you."

She was astonished, "You knew Eira the White?"

"Geh. She oft sang songs for me. For a joor, a human, she was as powerful as a dov. Her soul more brit... more beautiful."

Rona studied him. She was very intrigued by this strange dragon, talking about beautiful human women that sang to him. It was certainly a story straight out of a fairy tale. She was roused from her reverie though as the cries of a man bellowing below carried up to them.

"RONA! RONA! I SWEAR IF YOU'VE TOUCHED HER!"

It was Bishop, screaming his head off and racing around the tower with his bow drawn. Rona stood up and the dragon released the pillar from his clutches. He soared downward then drew himself back up to where Rona was standing. He flapped his wings to keep steady in one spot and spoke quickly as an arrow flew by, "It seems my time here is nigh dovahkiin. I will leave you a parting gift for the lovaas. We will meet again soon. Su'um ahrk morah!"

The grey dragon swept over Bishop who was aiming his bow at the beast. He flapped harshly causing Bishop to lose his balance and trip. The dragon roared at the ground nearby casting a blue flame against it before sailing over the cliff and disappearing around the mountain.

Rona grasped at the pillar and cried out, "Bishop!" She leapt off the ledge and used a spell to slow her ascent. She landed softly and Bishop stumbled over to her, grabbing her shoulders and still panicking shouted, "Are you alright!? Are you hurt!?" He panted looking her over and pushing her hair from her face, "You...you...you're alright. You're not hurt."

She smiled up at him, amused by how worried he was. She just hugged him and said, "I'm sorry I hit you."

"Wha...what!?" he stammered pushing her away, "You were just attacked by a dragon and you're worried about that!?"

She looked towards the cliff and said, "He didn't attack me. We just talked."

He threw his hands up and pressed his fingers through his hair, "You? You just talked?" Bishop put his hand out, cutting the air with it, "You just talked to a dragon? ARE YOU INSANE?"

"Geh," she said half laughing and half smiling.

"Bishop rubbed his face with his hands and sighed deeply, "You're going to kill me woman. One of these days, I'll be dead and it'll be because you did something so utterly stupid that, hey - hey! Where are you going? Are you even listening?"

Rona had in fact stopped listening to his rant and wandered over to the words on the ground. The persistent chanting coming from them completely captivated her. She stared into each word taking their meaning into her soul. FO, KRAH, DIIN bound through her mind, but when she spoke the words nothing happened.

"What are you saying now?" Bishop demanded.

"They're the Words of Power that the dragon left for me," she looked into Bishop's annoyed face and said, "He's the dragon that saved us back on the steps. He just wanted to hear me sing. It was incredible!" she said excitedly, waving her arms in the direction the dragon flew off, "That just happened. I talked to a dragon! You know he once knew Eira the White?"

Bishop gave her a piercing glare and said, "Do you even care how I feel? I thought you were dead and here you are just going on and on about your pointless conversation with a fucking dragon! I don't know if you forgot but those things are trying to kill you! They're not your friends!"

She got extremely defensive and shouted back, "How can I care how you feel when you won't even trust me!?I know what I'm doing! I'm not a complete idiot! I've dealt with all kinds of monsters and been in more battles than you could count! You know nothing about me! So stop treating me like I'm some stupid kid!"

"I'm the only one between us even bothering to look out for your life because you'd just as easily throw it away! I treat you like a stupid kid because you keep acting like one!"

"Why can't you just admit your feelings!?" she screamed at him. They both stopped, staring furiously at each other before Rona said, "I know you care about me. And of course I care about your feelings Bishop, I trust you. You've saved my life more than once already, why can't you trust me back?"

His eyes darted away from hers and he looked as though he were chewing on his tongue before he said, "Bah! I'm done talking." He turned his back on her and stomped up the stairs and into the monastery.

Rona grit her teeth and closed her eyes as tears streamed down her face.