Chapter 17: Void Take These Steps
They arrived in Ivarstead after a week on the road, the map leading them on a safe path through the Rift. Too safe for Sithia's liking, who would have welcomed having Thalmor to kill or bandits to terrorise. Serana sympathised; in a strange way she would have welcomed having her father's vampires show themselves. At least that way she'd know where they were... She looked around in the growing dusk. Nothing stirred outside except villagers making their way home, some patrolling guards and their own feet. Well, Serana's feet; Sithia's were dragging slightly but silently thanks to that eerie muffle enchantment. Her Dragonborn was tired. Sunset had revived Serana, but she'd better persuade Sithia to rest before they tackled—
"Void take those steps. They can wait until tomorrow." Sithia glowered up at the mountain and veered towards the building with a sign swaying in the wind. "The Vilemyr Inn had better have a room."
Oh. No need to talk Sithia into stopping. Her loathing of the climb ahead did Serana's work for her there.
Fortunately the inn did have a room to spare, so the innkeeper was not confronted by an extremely grumpy Dragonborn. A surly Sithia ate a stew she grudgingly deemed adequate and retired to the room she'd rented, beckoning Serana after her and ignoring the innkeeper's raised eyebrows and flushing cheeks.
If only they really were getting up to what the innkeeper thought they were… sadly it wasn't even an invitation for a feeding session. Not that Serana expected one; she'd already had a blood potion that morning and didn't need more yet. Even if directly feeding might improve Sithia's mood there were other reasons not to. Like conserving Sithia's strength for the ascent ahead of them.
No, it was simply to be on hand in case Sithia had a nightmare. In fact, later that night Serana almost woke Sithia from a dream before she realised Sithia's scent wasn't tainted with fury or fear but enhanced by—
"S'rana…" Sithia gasped, hips bucking in her sleep.
'Oh! Definitely not a nightmare.'
It was so tempting to wake Sithia with a gentle bite and help her finish… But Serana drew back before her lips touched Sithia's neck. That really would get her Shouted through the wall, or roof at this angle. Besides the fact that Sithia might not appreciate being woken from a dream that good even by something that pleasurable, it wasn't right to do that. Yes, Sithia had given her permission to feed whenever she wanted, but that wasn't the same as feeding to get Sithia off when she wasn't awake to consent.
Serana sighed and shifted in her chair. It was going to be a long night unless Sithia stopped dreaming soon, and she couldn't wish that on her when it was a rare good dream. A very good dream, judging by Sithia's racing heartbeat, gasping breaths and low moans.
Despite her pleasant dreams, Sithia was every bit as grumpy when she woke up as when her head hit the pillow. Either it was the prospect of climbing up all those 'sodding' steps, or the realisation that it was just a dream… or both.
That said, there was a briefly less grumpy Dragonborn when she beckoned Serana over with a smirk. "Breakfast time. For you as well as me. It's daylight. You need it."
Serana got to the point of touching Sithia's neck with her lips when she paused and pulled away. "Are you sure? Maybe it's best if I drink a blood potion. There's a potentially dangerous path ahead up to High Hrothgar. I don't want to risk weakening you."
"You don't have that many potions. I'll be fine. You've never taken too much before."
"...All right." Serana wasn't about to protest too much. An opportunity to feed directly was all too rare.
Sithia's mood was only temporarily improved by Serana feeding. By the time they walked across the stone bridge leading up to the Seven Thousand Steps a deep scowl returned to Sithia's face. She glowered at the steps underfoot as they started the climb.
"What's that?" Serana pointed at an etched tablet standing on a plinth, somewhat protected from the biting wind by a carved shelter reminiscent of a hood. A pair of stylised dragon heads formed the base of the shelter.
"Hmm? Oh, that. Well, those. There's ten of them on the path. You'll be able to read them better than I can; they're in Dovahzul."
"Mind if I stop to read them?"
"So long as it's not for long in this weather," Sithia growled, glaring at the clouds threatening snow overhead.
"I can read fast." Serana approached the etching and traced the words with her fingers. She decided to read them aloud for Sithia's benefit. " 'Before the birth of men, the dragons ruled all Mundus. Their word was the Voice, and they spoke only for True Needs. For the Voice could blot out the sky and flood the land.' "
Sithia did look interested, although knowing her that was probably more to do with hearing about a Shout that could flood the land. "Sounds like the Greybeards' philosophy all right. They're all about only using Shouts when absolutely necessary and primarily for worshipping Kynareth. Oh wait, they call her Kyne. Come on, I don't want to stand around. It might not be snowing down here but it's still a cold wind."
Onwards and upwards, step by step. "I wonder if there's really seven thousand steps…"
"There's not. I counted the first time I climbed them. Obviously seven thousand steps would depend on the length of stride of the individual, so maybe there really are that many for someone out there, but actual carved steps? No. There's considerably less than seven thousand."
"They're pretty crumbly. Maybe there were seven thousand once?"
Sithia shrugged. "Maybe. Now if you don't mind I'd rather save my breath for the climb than talk about these stupid steps."
"We could talk about something else…"
"Save it for when we're not mountain climbing," Sithia panted, her eyes on the treacherous crumbling steps underfoot.
Serana's heart sank at the thought of hours of climbing up these hallowed steps without the usual joy of conversation with Sithia. As it happened, while Sithia wasn't feeling terribly talkative she did break the silence a bit when they stopped for regular short breaks. These allowed Sithia to get her breath back and have a bite to eat to keep her going, sometimes coinciding with more of the ten carved tablets for Serana to read to an increasingly impatient Sithia. Her poor Dragonborn needed the breaks but couldn't stop moving for long in the cutting wind howling down the mountain path.
It was a pity that the paths were treacherous enough to require eyes constantly on the ground when on the move, but at least the frequent stops meant that Serana had a chance to take in the breathtaking views. Sithia, however, barely glanced at the sight of Skyrim spread out below them. Her eyes were fixed on the heights of the Throat of the World above, brows drawn down into a thunderous scowl.
Sithia's scowl only deepened as deciduous trees gave way to pine and prickly snowberry bushes replaced leafy ones. Snow increased on the path until it blanketed the ground and partly buried the steps. At least the clouds remained merely ominous and didn't add to Sithia's displeasure. The constant scowling must be giving Sithia quite the headache. Serana sighed and resisted the urge to try to massage away the tension. Her undead hands would be as cold as their frigid surroundings and Sithia might not appreciate that on her skin.
Where snow really threatened to bury the steps, some dedicated travellers had piled up cairns to mark the path and set pillars on the side closest to the edge of the mountain. The chill bit deeper the higher they went, to the extent where Serana eyed Sithia with some concern.
"Are you all right?"
"Fine. If cold, tired and grumpy. And I don't want to hear a word out of you in protest about what I'm about to do; the occasion calls for it."
"What?" Serana's confusion lasted only as long as it took for Sithia to retrieve and down a stamina potion. She hurled the empty bottle off the side of the mountain. Serana heard a very faint smash, almost drowned out by the wind. "We could have reused that!"
"Don't care. We have plenty." Sithia stalked up the path with a bit more bounce in her step with the temporary boost given by the potion.
Serana resisted the urge to argue. She might have the breath to waste, thanks in part to the heavy cloud cover making the day relatively pleasant for a vampire, but Sithia didn't, not up here. And it was true. If any occasion called for stamina potions it was mountain climbing.
At least they hadn't run into any trouble. Yet. Serana didn't care for the strength of the wind one bit, it made it harder for her to hear any potential threats. She only heard an oncoming heartbeat when the owner of it was already in sight, fortunately just a pilgrim who warned them to watch out for wolves.
Except there were no wolves, only two frost trolls. She did at least have advanced warning of them, being downwind, their stench overpowered the cold freshness of the snow.
"Ugh!" Sithia tugged Dragonbane out of the troll Serana hadn't felled with a shock spell. "I hate trolls. I met one near the top of the steps last time, now they seem to be coming lower down the mountain."
"At least the wind will spare us from their stink, once we're upwind."
"...I'm going downwind."
Surely she'd misheard. But no. Sithia took a step back down the path.
"What?!" Serana stepped into Sithia's path, eyeing her in some concern. Had she snapped at last?
"That pilgrim said nothing about trolls. I'm going to murder him."
Yes, she'd snapped. But maybe not beyond hope of talking some sense into her. "You don't want to do that."
Sithia stopped just before she walked into Serana. "Only because it'd mean climbing more of this Void forsaken mountain."
"Come on. I see another tablet up there. I want to know more about the history of the Greybeards." The last couple of tablets had covered the start of the dragon war, with Kyne calling on Paarthurnax to help teach men to use the Voice. This Paarthurnax must have been either a dragon or a dragon priest with a name like that.
Sithia grudgingly dropped the topic of pilgrim murder and stomped up more of the steps she hated so very much.
Night was falling by the time they were in sight of High Hrothgar, with its square walls and icicles hanging from a window in the central tower. The latest tablet claimed that Jurgen Windcaller had built it but that couldn't be the work of a single man, unless he'd had some very powerful and specific Shouts at his disposal.
"Not far now. At last." Sithia yawned. "At least the climb was uneventful."
"...apart from the trolls. And that dragon." Serana shivered in remembrance. If not for the dragon attacking when their path cut through the rock they might have been Shouted off the mountain.
Sithia shrugged. "Relatively uneventful. My other climbs were worse."
"...I don't want to know, do I?"
"I almost got blown off the path by a snowstorm the first time, and the second I lost a sword over the edge of the path. I didn't try to retrieve it as I had a spare at that point. Just as well as there was no sign of it going up this time. Unless one of those pilgrims made off with it… Fine Elven blade it was, too," Sithia grumbled.
"At least you didn't lose one this time."
Sithia nodded and patted Dragonbane's hilt. "It lives to fight another dragon. Going by that dragon's screeches, I think it really does hurt them more than other swords."
"There's your reaction to touching the blade as proof of that."
"At least it's only the blade. The hilt doesn't sting me at all."
"Good. Thinking of swords… Who's that?" Serana pointed at the statue beside the path. It was of a bearded man in armour, sword held point down over a sinuous dragon.
"Talos. You didn't see the one in Whiterun?"
"Too close to a shrine." At least she guessed it had been a shrine of Talos, going by the proximity of the Aedric influence to where Heimskr had been ranting about the love of that god.
"Right. Well, that's the ninth tablet at his feet, so just as well this statue doesn't come with a shrine."
Serana darted over it to read it, brushing off some snow. " 'For years all silent, the Greybeards spoke one name. Tiber Septim, stripling then, was summoned to Hrothgar. They blessed and named him Dovahkiin.' "
"I'd like to know how they knew to call him, because as far as I know he didn't absorb any dragon souls. They only called for me after I took my first, and not by my name but for the Dovahkiin."
"Maybe they somehow sensed his presence in the same way they knew to call you? It says the spoke one name. Tiber Septim isn't a single name."
"Talos is. That would be the name he had as a stripling."
"Maybe the Greybeards know? You could ask."
"I could, but I have more important things to ask them. Like about this Shout." With that Sithia strode off.
Serana followed, only diverting to read the last tablet in the shadow of High Hrothgar while Sithia started up the steps into the tantalising shelter from the cutting wind.
" 'The Voice is worship. Follow the Inner path. Speak only in True Need.' Definitely not Sithia's philosophy…" Serana muttered. She hurried after Sithia, pausing at the foot of the steps to take in the view over Whiterun and the tundra far below. She also had a peek into a chest on a platform at the foot of the tower and found it full of sacks of what smelled like food.
"Come on, Serana!"
Serana joined her impatient Dragonborn at the heavy metal doors, incised with a stylised depiction of a Greybeard, wearing a robe with dragons facing each other. Sithia pushed open the doors and held them open barely long enough for Serana to follow.
It felt blissfully warm inside, thanks to flaming sconces and an elevated fire pit. Those intricate dragon motifs and stylised Greybeard heads were repeated on many of the walls. The floors were smooth flagstone, if a little cracked and worn with age.
"Arngeir?" Sithia called. She pulled her mask down and called for the Greybeard again. "Why do they never come when they're called?" she growled. She stalked off down a corridor to the left. Serana followed and they emerged into what must be the Greybeards' dormitory. The stone beds didn't look terribly comfortable, although they were covered with snug furs so maybe looks were deceiving.
Two of the Greybeards were sitting on stone chairs, unmoving apart from breathing. Meditating? They were aged men with fittingly grey beards, wearing identical hooded grey robes with similar motifs to the walls.
Sithia cleared her throat. "Arngeir."
One of them blinked and looked up at them. Arngeir, presumably. He stood, smoothing his beard as much as it could be when knotted. "Welcome back, Dragonborn."
Sithia didn't do more than sigh at being called what she was. Strange, considering how violently she sometimes objected to it elsewhere.
"Who is your friend?" He glanced at Serana, taking in her glowing eyes and pale skin with a knowing look, although his heart didn't skip a beat or speed up. Clearly vampires were not something Greybeards were afraid of.
"Serana. I hope she's as welcome here as I am."
"Of course, Dragonborn. A single companion is acceptable, provided she respects this temple to Kyne." Arngeir gave Serana a very stern look.
Serana could only hope that it was a temple in name only; that she'd find no shrine here… "Of course. A place of peace such as this most hallowed ground in Skyrim must remain so."
Arngeir nodded and returned his gaze to Sithia. "What can I do for you?"
"I need to learn the Shout used to defeat Alduin."
"Where did you learn of that? Who have you been talking to?" Arngeir spoke faster, his voice suddenly sharp.
Sithia was more than a little taken aback, staring at him. The Greybeards must have never spoken like that to her before. "Does it matter?"
"Yes. For matters of such gravity, we need to know where you stand. Or who you stand with."
Sithia frowned. "The Blades helped me find out about it. And I stand with protecting people from the threat dragons pose. That I get their souls in the process is a bonus."
"The Blades! Of course. They specialise in meddling in matters they barely understand. Their reckless arrogance knows no bounds. They have always sought to turn the Dragonborn from the path of wisdom." Arngeir crossed his arms. "Have you learned nothing from us? Would you simply be a tool in the hands of the Blades, to be used for their own purposes?"
Already grumpy, it didn't take much to bring Sithia's anger to the surface. "I am my own master. The Blades are helping me, I don't serve them," she snarled, teeth bared.
Arngeir's companion Greybeard stirred and cleared his throat. Arngeir glanced at him and quailed at the reproach he saw there.
Arngeir turned back to Sithia and raised his hands, palms outwards. Placating. "No, no, of course not. Forgive me, Dragonborn. I have been intemperate with you. But heed my warning - the Blades may say they serve the Dragonborn, but they do not. They never have."
"Trust me, I can't mistake them for servants. That they claim to be sworn to guide and guard me doesn't make them my housecarls."
"It does not." Arngeir nodded. "Their guidance would lead you away from the path of wisdom."
"So, can you teach me this Shout?"
"No. I cannot teach it to you because I do not know it. It is called 'Dragonrend', but its Words of Power are unknown to us. We do not regret this loss. Dragonrend holds no place within the Way of the Voice."
Sithia's frown looked more puzzled than angry for once. "I thought you knew all Words of Power."
"But not Dragonrend. The knowledge of that Shout was lost in the time before history began. Perhaps only its creators ever knew it."
"If the Shout is lost, how can I defeat Alduin?" Sithia had only once before sounded so dismayed in Serana's hearing; the incident with the dagger at her throat when she'd first woken her Dragonborn from a nightmare.
"Only Paarthurnax, the master of our order, can answer that question, if he so chooses."
Paarthurnax? Serana's eyes widened. The name from one of the tablets on the way up… for him to still be around since the dragon war he was surely a dragon, although maybe dragon priests were undead? Still, the name included 'overlord'. She found it highly unlikely dragon priests were allowed to use the term, except perhaps referring to their own minions. Regardless, Sithia needed to know, be he dragon or undead priest. She wasn't fluent in Dovahzul apart from temporarily after absorbing a dragon soul.
"Who is Paarthurnax?" Poor Sithia sounded so very tired. She'd have to make sure she rested before they went to speak to this Paarthurnax.
"He is our leader. He surpasses us all in his mastery of the Way of the Voice." As could be expected if Serana's theory was right...
"Why haven't I met him yet?"
"He lives in seclusion on the very peak of the mountain." Hmm. An undead Nord would manage that chill as well as a dragon. "He speaks to us only rarely, and never to outsiders. Being allowed to see him is a great privilege. You weren't ready. You still aren't ready. But thanks to the Blades, you now have questions that only Paarthurnax can answer."
"I need to speak with him, then." Sithia groaned. "I don't suppose he'll come down to me, either." Poor Sithia. The only thing worse than climbing up here to High Hrothgar was climbing all the way to the summit of the Throat of the World.
"Indeed not." Arngeir sighed heavily. "Come. We will teach you a Shout to open the way to Paarthurnax." He led them back into the atrium and up a flight of steps to a set of double doors with those same repeating motifs of dragon and Greybeard.
Before Arngeir pushed the doors open, Sithia spoke up:
"What's so bad about Dragonrend?"
Arngeir paused, his hand on the door. "It was created by those who had lived under the unimaginable cruelty of Alduin's Dragon Cult. Their whole lives were consumed with hatred for dragons, and they poured all their anger and hatred into this Shout."
Arngeir turned and laid his other hand on Sithia's shoulder. "When you learn a Shout, you take it into your very being. In a sense, you become the Shout. In order to learn and use this Shout, you will be taking this evil into yourself. If you learn this Shout from Paarthurnax, you will need to be careful or risk falling into darkness."
Sithia nodded grimly. "I have to learn it. There's no choice, unless I want Alduin to eat the world and everyone on it."
Arngeir sighed heavily. "Have you considered that Alduin was not meant to be defeated? Those who overthrew him in ancient times only postponed the day of reckoning, they did not stop it. If the world is meant to end, so be it. Let it end and be reborn."
Sithia shrugged off his hand. "I cannot stand by and let everyone and everything die if I can stop it. Besides, how do you know it will be reborn if it ends? I won't take that chance, and I don't want to die even if it will."
"Very well, Dragonborn. Follow me."
Arngeir led them out into the courtyard. Across it stood a high tower, and beyond it Serana saw an archway carved with another stylised dragon standing near it, up another flight of steps. High winds blew fog beyond the carven archway, cutting across what must be the path up to the summit of the Throat of the World. Such winds… Serana had never seen such powerful ones before, or heard the roar of them for that matter. They'd be blown off the mountain by them. Was that what Arngeir meant by Sithia not being ready to see Paarthurnax?
Arngeir pointed to the archway. "The path to Paarthurnax lies through this gate. I will show you how to open the way."
"Lok… Vah… Koor…" Arngeir whispered each word to the ground, and the flagstones cracked as they were engraved with each Word of Power. "I will grant you my understanding of Clear Skies. This is your final gift from us, Dragonborn. Use it well." He bowed, and light streamed from him to Sithia, almost like a dragon soul but gentler.
"Thanks. LOK VAH KOOR!"
Serana winced. That Shout was almost as loud as Storm Call and came accompanied by a rumble of ground shaking thunder. It had the opposite effect on the sky, of course, all clouds cleared. The rushing wind ahead died away, leaving their path clear. Impressive.
Arngeir showed no signs of discomfort. His ears weren't as sensitive and maybe the ability to Shout granted him some protection. "As you can see, Clear Skies will blow away the mist and winds, but only for a time. The path to Paarthurnax is perilous, not to be embarked upon lightly. Keep moving, stay focused on your goal, and you will reach the summit. Wind guide you."
Serana opened her mouth to query if it was really such a good idea for them to go up right now when Sithia took a single step forward and hummed thoughtfully. "I think that climbing up there can wait until morning."
Arngeir nodded. "Paarthurnax is not going anywhere. You may borrow my bed if you wish, Dragonborn, spending a night meditating will do me no harm."
"Thanks." With that, Sithia headed inside to rest and make some preparations for the climb ahead, switching her Amulet of Mara for her Amulet of Talos. The Greybeards all made themselves scarce, leaving their living quarters to Sithia.
"From what Arngeir said I'll be needing to use Clear Skies frequently."
"Why don't you wear both?" Serana asked.
"Gives me a headache. Don't know why. Maybe Mara and Talos don't get along terribly well or something, or the enchantments clash."
"Pity."
"At least it'll stop the random proposals of marriage."
Sithia also checked her stocks of frost resistance potions. "Just in case the enchantment on my armour isn't enough." She also counted out her stamina potions. Serana swallowed any protest. The climb looked all the steeper up to the summit. Her Dragonborn would need the boost even more. Thinking of Dragonborn...
"Have you already tried to stop them calling you 'Dragonborn'?"
"There's not a lot of point. They called me here as Dovahkiin. Literally. I'm surprised you didn't hear it while you were slumbering in Dimhollow, to be honest." Sithia shook her head. "Besides, most of them can't call me anything but Dovahkiin as they're stuck speaking Dovahzul. As for Arngeir… he only helps me because of what I am."
"So do the Blades."
"Yes, but they also claim to serve me. The Greybeards don't. They teach me."
"I guess. I just wish it could be different for you."
"It perhaps makes a difference that they could Shout back if I Shouted at them for it."
"Point. Get some rest. I want to ask Arngeir something."
"Good luck. I don't think he cares much for talking." Sithia settled onto the rock carved bed. As Serana wandered off to find Arngeir, she heard Sithia grumbling under her breath about the Greybeards and the Dwemer and their shared liking for stone furniture.
She found Arngeir kneeling on the flagstones in front of a blazing brazier, eyes half closed. Rude as it seemed to interrupt his meditating, it had to be done.
Serana cleared her throat. "You're sending the ultimate dragonslayer up to see your leader without warning her about what he is?"
Arngeir blinked, his eyes coming into focus on her face, alarmed. "How do you know—"
"Please. She might not be fluent in Dovahzul, but I am. Paar. Thur. Nax. Ambition. Overlord. Cruelty. If he's not a dragon or a dragon priest, I'm a rabbit."
"You know much, companion to the Dragonborn. How did you learn it? We certainly did not teach you."
"If you must know... I'm a vampire, as I think you've noticed, and I've been alive long enough to have taught myself Dovahzul from books. Don't worry, I can't Shout, the books don't include how to do that. But you should warn her about what Paarthurnax is."
"I cannot. We are sworn not to speak of it. All I can tell you is that he is not a dragon priest."
"He really is a dragon then…" Serana sighed. "I'll have to tell her if you can't." She walked back to Sithia's side to find her already sleeping despite the relative lack of comfort of the stone bed. The climb had really taken it out of her. Warning her about Paarthurnax could wait until morning. And maybe until they'd left the Greybeards behind; that would give Sithia's temper time to cool down before she saw Arngeir again. Provided Serana kept her from going back down just to give him a piece of her mind as with the pilgrim...
"The leader of the Greybeards is a dragon?!" Sithia stopped on the snowy path, eyes wide as she stared at Serana.
"Apparently. I thought I should warn you about what to expect."
"Fucking stupid old men! I'm the ultimate dragonslayer, and they don't think to warn me that their mysterious hermit of a leader is one of my prey. Thanks to you, I know not to attack him on sight."
"In their defence, Arngeir said they made an oath not to speak of it. He got around his word by confirming that he's not a dragon priest when I asked him last night."
"Hmph. And you didn't tell me until now." Sithia gave her an exasperated look. "Why not?"
"You needed to rest, and arguing with the Greybeards wouldn't help with that."
"And in the morning?"
"It is morning." Serana 'helpfully' pointed towards the sun glaring down overhead and pulled her hood closer. Averting her eyes from the nasty light didn't help much when it reflected off the snow-strewn ground.
"Oh, you." With that, Sithia subsided and resumed the climb. "I suppose I should be grateful you told me now. It should mean I don't end up fighting a dragon after this Void forsaken climb."
"Let's hope this Paarthurnax practices what he preaches, this Way of the Voice."
"At least they don't expect me to follow it. I couldn't. Boring!"
Every few minutes Sithia had to use that horribly loud Shout again, as the winds returned and brought with them a roiling dark fog, so oppressive that it dulled even Serana's senses. Serana kept a careful watch on Sithia to see when she was about to Shout, not that covering her ears really did much to help the resulting headache from the rumble of thunder right overhead. Or was that in the ground itself, Serana asked herself as she stumbled yet again with the next cry of Clear Skies.
"LOK VAH KOOR!"
Sithia groaned. Serana automatically reached out to steady Sithia and discovered that she wasn't entirely stable enough herself. Fortunately they ended up bracing each other rather than sliding down the snowy path in a heap.
Serana frowned, concerned. That groan had been pained. "Are you all right?"
"I just hate mountain climbing. And needing to Shout so often, even with this thing." She touched the amulet hanging from the neck. "I'm already short of breath from the height alone."
The air was a little thin, come to think of it. Not that it really affected Serana. Something Sithia must've realised, judging by the dirty look she shot Serana.
"Stamina potion, please. And another frost resistance one."
Serana got them out and handed them over, hand darting out to catch the discarded bottles once Sithia downed them.
Sithia pulled her mask back up, a necessity with the chill up there. "Come on. This mountain can't go up much higher. Can it?"
The path did seem to be levelling out a bit, but a look upwards revealed still more mountain looming overhead.
"Huh, do you see that? How is it still standing?" Sithia nudged Serana, who returned her eyes to the path ahead.
A narrow wooden footbridge crossed a chasm, with more of those impossibly high winds blowing across the gap.
"Must be a miracle. That or hanging on by a thread."
Serana barely covered her ears in time as Sithia Shouted the wind away.
"Sithia, are you sure it's safe?"
"No. Which is why I'm going to wait until I can Shout again if I need to."
Right, that damned ghostly Shout of hers. Although if it saved Sithia from a very nasty fall, Serana would take back everything she'd ever said about hating it.
Serana darted across to test it. The wood didn't even creak under her. Whoever made that bridge must have enchanted it for it to be that sturdy. She reached out and touched it and felt that telltale humming under her skin.
"I think it's fine! Definitely enchanted, and why else enchant a bridge?"
"Hmm." Sithia started to cross with rather more caution than Serana expected of her Dragonborn. She managed to keep that surprise from showing, though, thanks to being rather more intent on listening for any telltale sounds of breaking bridge. Again, no creaking wood or rope.
"That better hold on the way down," Sithia muttered under her breath, glaring briefly back at the bridge before scowling up at the remaining mountain top. "Come on. Let's get this over with."
The rest of the climb was pretty uneventful. No hostile dragon swooped down on them, but they did soon meet an ice wraith and frost troll in the growing fog. The troll took a one way trip down the mountain thanks to a blast of Unrelenting Force, smashing far below on the rock walls of the Throat of the World. The ice wraith was also caught in the Shout but soared back, hissing like an overgrown snake.
Serana dealt with the threat that ice spirit dealt by treating it as if it were a snake. Well, a snake if it tried to bite her Sithia. She didn't have anything against snakes that weren't a threat, after all.
"...Did you have to pull its teeth out quite that hard?"
"Are you seriously complaining? I stopped it from sinking those icy shards into you!"
"You shattered them! I can only use freshly ground ice wraith teeth in potions. Those are useless now."
"All right, all right, I'll try to be more careful if we meet another of those things." Serana huffed. "A little gratitude wouldn't hurt, you know."
"Gratitude?!" Sithia growled. "How about this: thank you ever so much for being overprotective. I can handle things like that wraith just fine, especially with a frost resistance potion inside me!"
"You're just grumpy your Shout didn't hurt it."
Sithia actually stifled a whine and threw her arms up. "It's just so unfair! At least the troll had the decency to become troll fat. That reminds me, I hope I can scrape it up on the way down. It shouldn't freeze, being a frost troll. Or remains thereof."
"Alchemist," Serana muttered. She wondered what her Mother would make of Sithia if they managed to find her. Would they get along, as two alchemists? Or would they see each other as rivals for valuable reagents?
Sithia pointed at the path ahead, to a gap between two boulders. "Oh look, another patch of inexplicably high winds to deal with. This mountain and its air flow is weird!" She inhaled deeply. Serana covered her ears just in time.
"LOK VAH KOOR!" The winds died down with one last ground shaking rumble of thunder. The fog also cleared, exposing the breathtaking view of the aurora, and eastern Skyrim spread out below them. The rest of the Throat loomed over them… not that there was really all that much left of it. They really were nearly there.
Serana frowned, squinting into the sunlight. There was something up ahead, although whatever it was, Sithia stood a better chance of making it out in this headache inducing light.
"What in the Void is a Word Wall doing up here?" Sithia murmured, before quickening her pace. No doubt drawn by the thought of another Word of Power in her arsenal. It also provided a spot of shade, so Serana was all for joining Sithia there.
"Void take it!"
"What's… wrong…" Serana trailed off as she stepped into the shade, her eyes finally shielded enough from the sun to make out the smooth stone. Completely smooth. No carvings.
"What's the point of taking the trouble to carve a Word Wall all the way up here in the most Void forsaken spot of Nirn and then leave it unfinished?!"
"Not to mention broken." Serana pointed at the left side of it, or rather where the left side should be. It was crumbled away as if Alduin himself had taken a few bites out of it.
"That I can understand, who in their right mind would want to come all the way up here to fix it? The resident dragon clearly lacks the means to do it. Speaking of, where—"
A roar from behind them heralded a dragon's arrival. They whirled to see a dragon soar over what was left of the summit of the Throat, which was more like a hill in height at this point, and land on the snowy plain before them. Sithia's hand touched the hilt of Dragonbane, doubtless ready to draw if it wasn't Paarthurnax or if he should prove hostile.
The dragon watched them, head cocking much like any curious creature. He was unlike any other dragon Serana had seen, mostly white, his wings ragged, and a broken horn under his jaw. His eyes showed his age even more than the wear and tear on his body, not glowing red like Alduin's but like the starry sky at night.
Serana couldn't resist a deep breath and had to stifle the urge to dart over to grab a snack. His scent was almost as good as Sithia's, maybe because he was so ancient; aged like a fine wine.
"Drem yol lok. Greetings, wunduniik." The dragon's eyes rested on Sithia, addressing her as the singular traveller here. Maybe dragons didn't count the undead as people? Dragons were supposedly fathered by Akatosh, highest of the Aedra, so maybe Paarthurnax disliked the Daedric essence in her? Serana shook her head, suppressing the urge to take offence. They needed his help.
"I am Paarthurnax. Who are you? What brings you to my strunmah... my mountain?" As he spoke he exposed his sharp teeth. Each word came slowly, as if carefully considered, possibly because he was having to speak in Tamrielic when he preferred to speak in his own tongue.
"I think you know who I am," Sithia stated, hand still on her sword hilt.
"Yes. Vahzah. You speak true, Dovahkiin. Forgive me. It has been long since I held tinvaak with a stranger. I gave in to the temptation to prolong our speech."
"Why live alone on this mountain if you love talking so much?"
"Evenaar bahlok. There are many hungers it is better to deny than to feed. Dreh ni nahkip. Discipline against the lesser aids in qahnaar... denial of the greater."
Serana briefly considered translating Paarthurnax's lapses into Dovahzul, but discarded the idea as quickly as it occurred to her. He was doing just fine getting his point across, and he might consider it rude for her to even offer to do so.
Paarthurnax shifted his wings and tilted his head. "Tell me. Why do you come here, volaan? Why do you intrude on my meditation?"
"I need to learn Dragonrend. Can you teach me?"
"Drem. Patience. There are formalities which must be observed, at the first meeting of two of the dov. By long tradition, the eldest speaks first."
Sithia flinched slightly, doubtless remembering what had happened after Alduin took offence at her violation of that tradition at their last encounter. She somehow managed not to draw her sword, surpassing Serana's expectations of her self control.
"Hear my Thu'um! Feel it in your bones. Match it, if you are Dovahkiin!" Paarthurnax turned to the bare, crumbling remains of the Word Wall behind Sithia and Serana, and Shouted: "YOL TOOR SHUL!"
Serana cringed as the flames bathed the wall, despite being well out of range, standing behind Sithia. When the fire died down, it left the Words of Power of his Shout on the Wall. Sithia's eyes lit up and she darted over to it, touching them and murmuring each one in turn. Brilliant. If Sithia didn't already know how to breathe fire, she would now. And wasn't that the stuff of nightmares, although perhaps a good thing considering the problem her father and his minions still posed.
"A gift, Dovahkiin. Understand Fire as the dov do." Much as it had with Arngeir earlier, the understanding flowed from dragon to Dragonborn, in a stream of light not unlike a dragon's soul.
"Now, show me what you can do. Greet me not as mortal, but as dovah!"
Serana looked away as Sithia inhaled deeply.
"YOL TOOR SHUL!"
Despite not seeing it, Serana still flinched as she heard the fire emerge from Sithia as if she were dragon in body, not just blood and soul.
She looked back in time to see the flames dying down on Paarthurnax's scaly face. It didn't even singe him. In fact, he sounded as if he enjoyed it:
"Aaah... yes! Sossedov los mul. The dragonblood runs strong in you. It is long since I had the pleasure of speech with one of my own kind." Paarthurnax paused to stretch his wings. "So. You have made your way here, to me. No easy task for a joor... mortal. Even for one of Dovah Sos. Dragonblood. What would you ask of me?"
Sithia crossed her arms, finally releasing her sword. "As I've already said, I need to learn Dragonrend."
"Ah. I've expected you. And your request. Prodah. You would not come all this way for tinvaak with an old dovah. No. You seek your weapon against Alduin."
"How did you know I was coming?"
"Alduin komeyt tiid. What else would you seek? Alduin and Dovahkiin return together. But I do not know the Thu'um you seek. Krosis. It cannot be known to me. Your kind - joorre, mortals - created it as a weapon against the dov... the dragons. Our hadrimme, our minds cannot even... comprehend its concepts."
Sithia stifled a frustrated snarl and threw up her hands. "How can I learn it, then?"
"Drem. All in good time. First, a question for you. Why do you want to learn this Thu'um?"
"I need to stop Alduin."
"Yes. Alduin... zeymah. The elder brother. Gifted, grasping and troublesome as is so often the case with firstborn. But why? Why must you stop Alduin?"
Sithia sighed, crossing her arms again. "…The prophecy says that only the Dragonborn can stop him."
"True... But qostiid - prophecy - tells what may be, not what should be. Qostiid sahlo aak. Just because you can do a thing, does not always mean you should."
Serana had to agree with Paarthurnax there. Everything with her father… prophecy was a very weak guide indeed. Sithia could stand to take a lesson from what Paarthurnax had said, too… her reckless Dragonborn. Doing something just because she could seemed to be her whole philosophy sometimes.
Paarthurnax continued: "Do you have no better reason for acting than destiny? Are you nothing but a plaything of dez... of fate?"
"Feels like it sometimes," Sithia muttered. "But I've always fought against destiny."
Serana frowned. What did she mean by that? Much as Serana wanted to know it would have to wait. Probably until Sithia told her without being asked, knowing her stubborn Dragonborn.
"And so, perhaps, your destiny will be fulfilled. Who can say? Dez motmahus. Even to the dov, who ride the currents of Time, destiny is elusive. Alduin believes that he will prevail, with good reason. Rok mul. And he is no fool. Ni mey, rinik gut nol. Far from it. He began as the wisest and most far-seeing of us all."
Then just maybe Alduin had lost his way, just like Harkon.
"But you have indulged my weakness for speech long enough. Krosis. Now I will answer your question. Do you know why I live here, at the peak of the Monahven - what you name Throat of the World?"
"I can't understand the appeal myself, but from observation of a few of your brethren's lairs… dragons like mountains. I suppose I might if I had wings."
Paarthurnax slowly nodded. "True. But few now remember that this was the very spot where Alduin was defeated by the ancient Tongues. Vahrukt unslaad... perhaps none but me now remember how he was defeated."
"Using the Dragonrend Shout, yes?"
Paarthurnax waggled his great head in something between a nod and shake. "Yes and no. Viik nuz ni kron. Alduin was not truly defeated, either. If he was, you would not be here today, seeking to... defeat him. The Nords of those days used the Dragonrend Shout to cripple Alduin. But this was not enough. Ok mulaag unslaad. It was the Kel - the Elder Scroll. They used it to... cast him adrift on the currents of Time."
Sithia blinked and exchanged a startled look with Serana. "Are you saying they sent Alduin forward in time?"
"Not intentionally. Some hoped he would be gone forever, forever lost. Meyye. I knew better. Tiid bo amativ. Time flows ever onward. One day he would surface. Which is why I have lived here. For thousands of mortal years I have waited. I knew where he would emerge but not when." No wonder Paarthurnax looked so ancient, he'd been here far longer than Serana had been sleeping away in Dimhollow - without the benefit of vampirism to keep him fresh.
Sithia heaved a sigh and started to pace. "How does any of this help me?"
"Tiid krent. Time was... shattered here because of what the ancient Nords did to Alduin. If you brought that Kel, that Elder Scroll back here... to the Tiid-Ahraan, the Time-Wound… With the Elder Scroll that was used to break Time, you may be able to... cast yourself back. To the other end of the break. You could learn Dragonrend from those who created it."
Come to think of it Serana could feel something strange up here. The overbearing sunlight glaring down overhead had distracted her. Clouds passing in front of it meant her headache receded enough to register the tickle of… something. Looking around carefully she spotted it. A disturbance in the wind blowing in front of the Word Wall, almost like the air above a fire.
"Nothing is certain with such things… But I believe the Scroll's bond with the Tiid-Ahraan will allow you a... a seeing, a vision of the moment of its creation. Then you will feel - know - Dragonrend, in the power of its first expression. You will see them... wuth fadonne... my friends - Hakon, Gormlaith, Felldir."
Sithia stopped pacing to frown up at him. "Who are they?"
"The first mortals that I taught the Thu'um - the first Tongues. The leaders of the rebellion against Alduin. They were mighty, in their day. Even to attempt to defeat Alduin... sahrot hunne. The Nords have had many heroes since, but none greater."
"They were Dragonborn?"
"Niid. No. They were Tongues, not Dovahkiin. The first of your kind served us, not fought us, until…" Paarthurnax briefly looked away. He shook his head. "Krosis. Miraak was dear to us once. He was lost to us long ago, before Alduin was banished."
"How could an Elder Scroll cast Alduin through time?" Sithia sounded disturbed by the thought, perhaps because of the one in her enchanted pack. Serana resisted the urge to point out that at least Sithia wasn't the one carrying it or had slept right next to it for however long. Paarthurnax was still talking, after all.
"Vomindok. I do not know. Perhaps in the very doing they erased the knowing of it from Time itself. The dov are children of Akatosh. Thus we are specially... attuned to the flow of Time. Perhaps also uniquely vulnerable. I warned them against such a rash action. Even I could not foresee its consequences. Nust ni hon. They would not listen."
"You were there?"
"Yes. There were a few of us that rebelled against Alduin's thur... his tyranny. We aided the humans in his overthrow. But they did not trust us. Ni ov. Their inner councils were kept hidden from us. I was far from here on the day of Alduin's downfall. But all dov felt the... sundering of Time itself."
Sithia resumed pacing. She paused again after a few steps as something occurred to her. "What does Dragonrend actually do?"
"I cannot tell you in detail. I never heard it used. Kogaan. It was the first Thu'um created solely by mortals. It was said to force a dragon to experience the concept of Mortality. A truly vonmindoraan... incomprehensible idea to the immortal dov."
Sithia nodded thoughtfully and took a few more steps. It seemed to be helping her think, because she soon asked something else: "You're the Master of the Greybeards. Do others come here to train?"
"I have taught the Way of the Voice for centuries and the Thu'um since long before that. But no, Dovahkiin. Others do not come here to train anymore. Saraan. You are the first in over a hundred years. I meditate on the Rotmulaag - the Words of Power. I counsel in their use. It is enough for me."
"You meditate on the Words? Like the Greybeards? Or do you have a different method, because Arngeir's just… I can't do it."
"Perhaps a dov can succeed where my disciples failed. Knowing a Word of Power is to take its meaning into yourself. Contemplate the meaning of a Rotmulaag. You will become closer to that Word, as it fills your inner self. Will I teach you, Dovahkiin? What Word calls you to deeper understanding?"
"…Yol."
Of course it would be that one, the one he'd just given Sithia. If Paarthurnax could teach Sithia to make that Shout even more powerful, Serana pitied the one to feel it. Even if it was her father. Especially if it was him.
Sithia walked closer to Paarthurnax, her eyes fixed on him with a burning focus as she took in his lecture. A disturbing lecture for Serana to hear, given its subject matter.
"In your tongue, the Word simply means 'Fire.' It is change given form. Power at its most primal. That is the true meaning of 'Yol.' Suleyk. Power. You have it, as do all dov. But power is inert without action and choice. Think of this as the fire builds in your su'um, in your breath. Su'um ahrk morah. What will you burn? What will you spare?"
"I can think of a few things." Sithia glanced back at Serana and smirked. Serana shivered - she swore a flame seemed to be burning in those stormy grey eyes, something which disturbed her yet also found perversely hot in the, er, other sense.
Sithia turned back to her dragon teacher. "Thanks, Paarthurnax. I have no idea how can I ever repay you for this, and the information about how I might learn Dragonrend."
"That you might learn from me is reward enough, Dovahkiin. You know what to seek now."
"An Elder Scroll. Convenient that we have one." Sithia beckoned to Serana.
Serana blinked. "What? You don't mean…"
"To read it? How else will we know if it's the right one or not?"
"In the unlikely event that it's the right one, it'd still be incredibly risky to do that! You said it yourself, mess with an Elder Scroll and at best you'll break yourself. At worst…"
Sithia shrugged. "So I have to risk breaking the world to save it."
"You are unbelievable."
Sithia held out her hands. "Unless you have a better idea?"
Serana slowly shook her head. They had a Scroll with them. They had to be sure it wasn't the right one. And how else to do it except by trial and error? It wasn't like the things were labelled with their contents! She reluctantly got the Scroll out.
"Come to think of it, I need to do something else first." Sithia stepped close. Her gaze slipped to Serana's lips. For a moment Serana thought that something else would finally be to invite a kiss. But no. Sithia's gaze slipped to her pack and she dug out another frost resistance potion and only bared her face to down it before pulling her mask back up quickly. Serana felt a brief flicker of hope when Sithia stepped closer still, only for her to take the Scroll.
Sithia walked over to the weird patch of air, and held the Scroll up ready to read.
"Dovahkiin, time does not shudder at that Kel's touch," Paarthurnax called, eyeing it sidelong.
Sithia shrugged as best as she could when holding up a heavy and unwieldy Elder Scroll. "I still need to be sure. What if time doesn't do that? You said you weren't there when the Scroll was read before."
Paarthurnax stretched his wings, perhaps a draconic version of a shrug. "Niid, no, I was not. Forgive me, Dovahkiin, I cannot tell you more."
Serana darted over to Sithia. There had to be something she could do… "Sithia, are you sure about this?"
Sithia raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure that I need to be sure. I'm not doing this for the fun of it. Duty calls. Wish me luck."
Serana closed the last of the distance between them and pulled that damn masked cowl down, not something she'd do if Sithia hadn't got a fresh dose of that potion inside her up here. She cupped Sithia's face in her hands. If this earned her a Shout, so be it. This might be her last chance if the Scroll claimed Sithia's sanity. What passed for it, anyway.
Sithia inhaled sharply, eyes wide.
Serana leant down, lips slanting across Sithia's, finally stealing a kiss.
The heat of Sithia's mouth was startling. It wasn't as hot as her blood, but it was very different to kissing a vampire. She'd never kissed a mortal before - not as a vampire, anyway. Brushing lips with Sithia wasn't the same, especially after feeding when her own lips were warmed from the hot dragon blood. Especially as Serana herself was at ambient temperature, and it was cold enough up on the highest peak in Tamriel to freeze off Dibella's tits. Maybe that was why Sithia hadn't invited her to do this? Should she stop? Apologise?
Except Sithia whimpered, and leaned into the kiss, her lips parting. Serana deepened the kiss, tongue stroking—
Something heavy landed on her feet. Pain blindsided Serana. She was dimly aware of Sithia crying out, breaking the kiss. Sithia fell back and sat down heavily in the snow. She snarled and shoved the Elder Scroll aside and off their boots.
"Sorry!"
"Damn it, Serana!" Sithia hissed between her teeth, clutching at her feet. "Fuck you and your shitty timing." Her hands glowed as she concentrated on healing herself. Serana winced. It hurt her too, but very briefly thanks to a quick drink from a blood potion. A taste of Sithia at her finest that only had her wanting more… Unfortunately they weren't alone.
Serana glanced behind her at Paarthurnax and saw him tactfully looking away. At least he was pretending nothing had happened, which was a bit less embarrassing than having a laughing dragon.
She turned back to Sithia and flinched at the glare waiting for her. The hard glint in Sithia's eyes softened a bit as the golden light faded away. It was difficult to appear suitably contrite when Sithia's gaze slipped down slightly to focus on Serana's lips and she licked her own. Maybe her lips were tingling too.
"There's a time and a place for that, you stupid vampire," Sithia snapped. "This isn't it." She pulled her cowl back over her hair and the mask up. She picked the Scroll up and stood.
"I'm sorry, I just… I had to. One less thing to regret never doing if it all goes horribly wrong."
"Try asking next time! Don't surprise me like that when I'm holding something as heavy as this fucking Scroll."
'Next time?' Serana had never felt quite so torn between hope and fear. That there would be a next time, and that this might be the first and last time. She wanted nothing more than to claim Sithia's lips again. But Sithia was right. Up here wasn't the right time for more than stealing a single kiss.
Sithia tugged open the Scroll. As soon as her eyes fell on it, she staggered and dropped the Scroll again - fortunately not on her toes this time - and fell to her knees.
Serana caught her before she fell flat on her face in the snow, dropping to her own knees to hold her close. "Are you all right?" She gently lifted Sithia's head to look into unfocused eyes.
"…I think so." Sithia sounded as dazed as she looked. She blinked and focused blearily on Serana. "Everything's a bit blurry, but it's passing. I can still see. I think I'm about as sane as I ever was, too."
"Oh, that's reassuring." Despite her sarcasm Serana pulled her into a tight embrace that she hoped got across how very relieved she was. She got up and pulled Sithia to her feet too, steadying her, holding her close for as long as she could, until Sithia stepped back. Serana still kept an arm around her, and Sithia at least didn't try to shrug her off.
"It was not the right Kel," Paarthurnax stated.
"No. Hopefully it's one of the others Dexion mentioned. He's a Moth Priest, they specialise in reading Elder Scrolls. He did mention one with the secrets of dragons, come to think of it. Maybe that's the one we need. But where is it?"
"Krosis. I know little of what has passed below in the long years I have lived here. You are likely better informed than I. Trust your instincts, Dovahkiin. Your blood will show you the way."
"Only if I can somehow find it on my map," Sithia grumbled under her breath, probably below what a dragon could hear as Paarthurnax didn't look confused. "Void take it. A wild goosechase to find at least two Elder Scrolls, because it'd be just my luck if this is another one in addition to the two to find Auriel's Bow." She sighed heavily. "Come on, back down the… mountain…" A horrified look crossed Sithia's face and she choked back a sob. "Oh no. Void take it! I have to climb back up here! At least once! And then down again! Oh no no no..." She started to laugh bitterly, almost crying, holding her head in her hands.
Serana slowly and soothingly stroked her back. There there. Poor Dragonborn.
After a few deep breaths, Sithia got herself back under control. She glanced up at Paarthurnax. "No offence, Paarthurnax, but I hate this mountain. Especially the climb."
Serana eyed Paarthurnax's ragged wings. She might have asked him for a lift down the mountain, but she wasn't sure about adding any more weight to his ability to fly. That and it seemed rude to ask.
"Dovah sos does not give you the wings of one," Paarthurnax observed. He didn't follow it up with an offer to carry them or at least Sithia down, so it seemed it was up to Serana. She wasn't about to let Sithia use Become Ethereal if there was anything she could do about it, and there was if she carried her Dragonborn down. The path should at least be clear now, Sithia would only need to Clear the Skies, with no trolls or ice wraiths to make it so Serana's hands needed to be free. Right?
"Well spotted. I'm very jealous of your wings, so kindly don't mention the fact that I can't fly ever again."
"Krosis, Dovahkiin." Paarthurnax looked about as sheepish as it was possible for a dragon to look.
Sithia stepped closer and gently touched Paarthurnax's scaly cheek. "Forgiven. Goodbye, Paarthurnax. Want me to bring you something when I return? I've no idea what you eat, but I could bring you some venison or something."
"I do not need to feed; basking in sunlight is enough for one of the dov. That you will return for more tinvaak is enough for this old dovah."
Sithia nodded. "I'd say I look forward to it but it means climbing back up here. See you when I hopefully have the right Scroll." She picked up the Scroll and returned it to the pack. Serana steadied herself against the abrupt increase in weight. That done, Sithia started walking away and beckoned Serana.
"Drem yol lok, Paarthurnax," Serana said, raising a hand in farewell.
Paarthurnax blinked at her. "Drem yol lok. Serana, geh? That is what the Dovahkiin called you. Though you are not dovahkiin, perhaps I might have tinvaak with you too next time. You do at least speak my tongue, although you do not feel like a Tongue to me."
"I'd like that." Serana barely resisted the temptation to ask if he could teach her, like he'd taught the Ancient Tongues. That would be presumptuous. Rude. She'd gladly take him up on it if he offered, if not for the fact that her place was with Sithia. And not learning how to use the Thu'um up here. Thinking of that… she hurried to catch up with her Dragonborn. Before she left her behind by using that ghostly Shout.
"Sithia, wait!"
Sithia's heavy sigh misted the air as she paused, foot tapping impatiently. "Hurry up."
"I might not have wings either but I could carry you down. At least as far as High Hrothgar, maybe beyond."
"Tempting but no. Besides, you'll need your hands free to cover your ears when I clear our path; don't think I missed you doing that on the way up."
"Point. I could put you down temporarily whenever you need to do that. Or maybe… I could carry you in your pack!"
"I'd suffocate. You don't put living things in enchanted packs, not if you want them to keep breathing."
"Oh. Best not, then. Um. How did you find that out?"
Sithia's eyes sparkled. Serana just knew she was smirking under that mask. "Trial and error. That or maybe the enchanter warned me."
Serana side eyed her. She really couldn't tell which was the truth. She decided she didn't want to know if something - or worse someone - had expired in the pack on her back.
"Anyway, thanks for the offer but no thanks. I don't trust this mountain. It seems to magically replenish its supplies of trolls and other nasties, as there's no other satisfying explanation for how quickly they come back."
Despite Sithia's paranoia there were no such nasties on the path down to High Hrothgar, and only those ridiculously high winds and dangerous fog to Shout away.
It felt so good to be warmed by the fire just inside High Hrothgar. Much as Serana didn't care for fire in general, like any sensible vampire, she did like the warmth a hearth provided. So did Sithia judging by the tempo of her heart and relaxed look on her face, cowl and mask pulled down to bask in the heat.
Serana's eyes slipped to Sithia's lips again. So tempting… But no. Their next kiss was Sithia's to instigate. Whenever that might be. Best think of something else, and not how soft those lips had felt under hers.
She cleared her throat. "I know where one of those Scrolls should be. With Valerica: my mother."
Sithia frowned at her. "Your mother? But you don't know where she is, right?"
"No, I don't. But I have an idea of where to start looking. You're not going to like it."
Sithia stifled a groan. "Let's hear it."
"The last time I saw her, she said that she'd go somewhere safe... somewhere that my father would never search. Other than that, she wouldn't tell me anything."
"Very helpful of her," Sithia drawled.
"I know, I know. The way she said it... 'someplace he would never search.' It was cryptic, yet she called attention to it. I couldn't imagine a single place my father would avoid looking. And he's had all this time, too. But then I remembered… There's a courtyard in the castle. I used to help my mother tend a garden there. All of the ingredients for our potions came from there. She used to say that my father couldn't stand the place. Too… peaceful. She started sending me away when things got worse between them. She must have been hiding something."
Sithia raised an eyebrow. "You think she's still in the castle? Isn't that pretty risky?"
"Oh, absolutely. But my mother's not a coward. That is… I don't think we'll actually trip over her there. But it's worth a look."
"You're right - I don't like it. But it does sound like something we should investigate. I guess we'll have to do it during the daytime, when your father and his cronies are most likely to be sleeping. I take it there's a way to get to this courtyard without using the front door?"
"There's an unused inlet on the northern side of the island that was used by the previous owners to bring supplies into the castle. An old escape tunnel from the castle exits there. I think that's our way in."
"It's certainly our only lead right now. Unless Arngeir knows something about Elder Scrolls." Sithia hummed thoughtfully. She reached over and took Serana's hand. "You're warming up nicely. Still cold compared to me, but far warmer than you were up there." She smirked. "Don't think you're safe."
"What?"
Sithia let go and stepped between Serana and the fire, inhaling deeply. "FUS!"
That pushed Serana back into the wall, pinning her there for a moment before she slid down it to sit on the floor. She stared up at Sithia, dazed. Her world spun for a few of Sithia's heartbeats. Despite not needing to breathe she felt a little winded. Thanks to the single word used she was at least not bruised.
"You kissed me. Without being invited. I wasn't about to Shout you off the Throat of the World, but I wasn't lying about tasting my Voice. Consequences, my dear stupid vampire. You can't escape them."
"Worth it," Serana gasped. After a few deep breaths she no longer felt quite so breathless.
Sithia smirked. "Glad to hear it." She held out a hand and pulled Serana up onto her feet. And into her arms. Sithia stretched up on tiptoe, arms looped behind Serana's neck, and claimed a kiss. Serana fell back against the wall, letting Sithia pin her there in a decidedly more pleasant way.
"This isn't going to get me Shouted through the wall, is it?" Serana murmured against her lips.
Sithia's lips curled into a smile. "Only if you ask nicely. I kissed you this time, I think that counts as permission."
"Oh, good."
"Now shut up and kiss me."
Serana gladly obliged. Except even as the heat of Sithia's tongue traced her lips she heard approaching footsteps and an accompanying heartbeat. Serana groaned and drew back, much as she wanted to allow the kiss to deepen.
Sithia looked torn between hurt and confusion. "Serana?" She sounded as much like a kicked puppy as possible for a grumpy Dragonborn.
"Sorry. I'd love to continue where we left off, but we're about to have company."
"Void take it," Sithia muttered. "Perfect timing." She glared in the direction of the nearing footsteps, presumably finally within her hearing.
Arngeir emerged from the corridor. "I heard your Voice, Dragonborn. Is all well?" He looked sharply between them, his gaze lingering suspiciously on Serana.
"Fine, thanks," Sithia bit out. "I felt like Shouting. I do that sometimes."
Arngeir looked rather less suspicious. "We do hear your Thu'um very regularly, even from the world below. Sometimes it drowns out the whispers from the Word Walls. I would remind you to use Shouts only in great need or in worship of the Divine Kyne, but that is our Way, not yours."
Sithia's glare turned rather more calculating, and she rubbed her hands together. "Speaking of Word Walls…"
"I am afraid not, Dragonborn." He shook his head. "As I said, your Voice deafens us to them."
Sithia huffed. "I can't not Shout. It helps me let off steam."
"Then you shall have to be content with those Shouts you know, or hope to come across any remaining Word Walls on your own," Arngeir said. "So... you spoke to Paarthurnax. The dragonblood burns bright within you. Did he tell you what you wanted to know? Did he teach you the Dragonrend Shout?"
"No, but he told me how to find out."
Arngeir pinched the bridge of his nose. "So be it. If he believes it is necessary for you to learn this... we will bow to his wisdom."
"I need the Elder Scroll the first Tongues used. Do you know where to find it?"
"We have never concerned ourselves with the Scrolls. The gods themselves would rightly fear to tamper with such things. As for where to find it... such blasphemies have always been the stock in trade of the mages of Winterhold. They may be able to tell you something about the Elder Scroll you seek." Arngeir's voice dripped with disapproval. His opinion of magic other than Shouts was all too clear. "Wind guide you." He clasped his hands and bowed his head before walking away.
Sithia sighed. "Pity Dexion didn't make it to Winterhold or he'd have been able to tell us if the mages have any idea."
"So where do we try first?" Serana couldn't help but hope that they could try to find her mother first. It had been so long. And even longer since her mother had done more than push her away. Maybe Valerica would regret that by now? Maybe—
"Let's see what my map says." Sithia held out her hand expectantly.
Serana dug it out and handed it over. Sithia unfolded it and poked the island where Castle Volkihar loomed in the mist. The blood trail didn't go anywhere near Winterhold. Another poke on Winterhold had the blood trail passing through Serana's former home.
"Our path is clear. Now. Where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?" Sithia smiled and handed the map back for Serana to pocket. That done, she stepped into Serana's arms even as they opened for her. She met Serana half way, stretching up on tiptoe even as Serana leant down, head angled to kiss without their noses clashing.
The third kiss was every bit as good as the first two. No. Wait. It was better; uninterrupted. This time they were free to deepen the kiss, for tongues to stroke together, breaking apart only for Sithia to catch her breath. Serana trailed kisses down her jawline to her neck, gently nipping the skin over her favoured feeding spot.
"Feed, damn you," Sithia gasped.
Serana's fangs descended. "As you wish," she lisped, and latched on.
Sithia held on tightly, breathing raggedly. She swayed, Serana following the motion to keep drawing that finest blood. Well, almost finest. Lust wasn't quite as good as satisfaction after all. Although… with the Greybeards around, was this really the time and place? Serana very reluctantly pulled away.
Sithia met her burning gaze, cheeks flushed, panting. Her hand snaked into her hair to cup the back of Serana's head, pulling her down to press their lips together.
Sithia fell back against the wall. Serana stepped closer, pressing her against it, hands either side of her head, deepening the kiss. Sharing the taste of Sithia's own blood. She didn't seem to mind it, giving every bit as good as she got.
Sithia's hands trailed down her back to cup her behind and ground against her. Serana broke off the kiss to return her mouth to Sithia's neck, latching on again. Wait, wasn't there something she was supposed to be doing? The delicious taste of her favourite meal soon washed the thought away. Whatever it was could wait.
Sithia gasped, head thumping back against the wall. Her hips shifted, rocking against her. Her breathing sped up until she was panting. She stifled a cry of Serana's name, shuddering. She fell slack.
Serana had to force herself to stop feeding. As always, a satiated Sithia tasted even better than a merely willing one.
Sithia stirred, supporting her own weight again. Her breathing gradually slowed down. She reached up to cup Serana's face in her hands, leaning up to kiss her. "Mmm. Should've done this sooner."
Serana resisted the urge to point out that had been entirely in Sithia's control. Instead she said, "You have me now. Whenever you want me."
"Hah. If only. If just feeding is too distracting when on the road, doing this as well is more so."
"Hey, I managed to stop us from embarrassing Arngeir!" Oh. That had been the thing. Just as well none of the Greybeards had come along while Serana had been feeding.
"True. Kisses are on the menu even when I'm not, then."
Serana couldn't help but grin at that.
They rested up before going back down those 'Void forsaken' steps. Sithia filled in the time with kisses, uncaring if it embarrassed any Greybeards wandering around their home.
"They're probably too busy meditating to notice what we're getting up to anyway!"
"I know I said whenever, but I have to draw the line with doing more than kisses." Serana's cheeks would have been burning if they could have.
"And that's fine. Your opinion matters to me. Everyone else can go jump off the Throat as far as I care. Ugh. Off. Down there. We have to do that soon."
"My offer for carrying you down still stands."
"That would only guarantee more trolls turning up. Distract me, will you?"
"Gladly," Serana purred, and cupped Sithia's face in her hands, turning it up for another kiss.
They needed to talk, of course. About where things stood now, of their expectations. But for now that could wait. There was a time and a place for everything, and now was for distracting her Dragonborn with her lips. And tongue. And maybe the odd graze of her teeth, nipping her Sithia right where it provoked the most delightful breathy gasps.
Finally, the feeling of Sithia's lips against hers. It was well worth the wait. The only problem was Serana couldn't get enough of her kisses, and they had so much still to do. Including finding Serana's mother. It suddenly occurred to her that if everything went according to plan, Sithia was going to meet Valerica. Her lover meeting her mother. And that realisation had Serana needing distraction. Perhaps another little feed wasn't out of the question…
AN: Many thanks to Gaunty for betaing!