Hello again and welcome (back) to chapter 25 of the Unlikely Companions. I'm glad to see so many of you are still reading this, or have just begun reading this.
Before we begin, I want to thank our mysterious 'guest' reviewer, who I shall refer to as M'Aiq, for he knows much and tells some. Your review really had me want to spend more time on the surroundings and travels and all else you really felt was missing and I'm glad I've satisfied this need and desire.

Let's get started folks. Because this is a chapter where we know shit is about to hit the fan once more.

Once again, thank you for taking your time to read, favourite and review. It's really appreciated.


xxx


Chapter 25

Only when the two elves emerged from Tower Mzark in the mountain range North of Whiterun, they got some grasp of how massive Blackreach had to be if it was connected to Alftand over such a vast distance. They had but caught a glimpse of it, which took them from the Pale's tundra, all the way here, able to distinguish the silhouette of Dragonsreach in the distance to their South.

The problem that arose from it, was that it would not only take too long to return to the College to get their horses, but it would also be too dangerous. Even if they wouldn't come across patrolling Thalmor soldiers and Justiciars, Ondolemar's safety was still in question and he would stand out like a jester in a graveyard in the company of Ganir and Whiterun.

Irony had it that Sheogorath seemed to harbor a desire to spruce up their already insane adventure. After pushing through the thorn bushes, they found their way down to the cobbled path to Whiterun. They kept off the road as much as they could, sticking to the bushes where possible and froze in their steps when they stumbled across a most peculiar and unexpected scene before them.

The fellow was clad in weird, colorful attire in tones of black, orange and lined with gold thread. His shoes had curvy, pointed tips with bells attached, which would jingle along with the bells attached to his funny jester's hat. But he was not bouncing merrily, nor was he dancing. He looked positively outraged and terrified at the same time as he protectively shielded access to the back of his wagon. They had no idea what was in the large rectangular crate, but it had caught the interest of the three Thalmor soldiers and Justiciar.

"Cicero would never, never he says! To accuse Cicero of such a horrible thing!" The jester exclaimed, his coal-marked eyes close to tears, which darted from one elf to the other. "Cicero is just taking his poor, sweet mother to her new grave!"

"And you expect us to believe such nonsense?" The Thalmor Justiciar, clad in robes like Ondolemar's sneered. "We have all the reason to suspect even you of smuggling contraband. Out of our way!"

The jester shrieked when one of the Thalmor soldiers grabbed him by the shoulder and threw him in the mud while the other got onto the wagon. The soldier then unsheathed his blade and intended to use his weapon as a crowbar to force the crate open while the commanding Justiciar waited patiently to see what 'precious' cargo was truly stored within the crate.

No good deed goes unpunished. Ganir grit his teeth, frustrated as he was conflicted. He could easily kill them, but he had made a promise to both himself and Arngeir. They would force my hand either way, but we have to get past them without being detected. The Dark Elf was so caught up with his train of thoughts, he had not noticed the Thalmor's horses nearby.

Thankfully, Ondolemar had noticed and after tapping Ganir on the shoulder and pointing it out, the two Elves' eyes shot from the Thalmor to their horses. One of the soldiers was still trying to pry the crate open under the watchful eye of his superior, the Justiciar. The other soldier towered over Cicero, glaring daggers at the 'lowly, pathetic' human in the mud.

Ondolemar and Ganir gave each other a nod and when the Dark Elf gave the signal, they bolted for the horses and jumped on their backs, racing off in full gallop, staying as low as they could to avoid being hit.

But nothing happened, nor did they have the time to check why. But in the moment the Thalmors' attention was diverted to the horse thieves, the jester's harmless façade melted like snow before the sun. "Sacrilege! Defiler! Blasphemers!" He snarled while repeatedly plunging his dagger in and out of the Thalmor soldier that had shoved him in the mud. Before the other two High Elves even had a grasp as to what was going on, the small, Imperial jester grabbed hold of the Justiciar's shoulder and repeatedly stabbed him in the back and disappeared under the cart.

Completely startled and terrified by the sudden development, the remaining soldier was caught between his fighting and fleeing instinct. He never made it off the cart and he wouldn't hit the ground until the jester was out of breath from repeatedly stabbing and slashing at his flesh, shoving him off the wagon into the mud where the High Elf soldier was left to bleed to death with his associates.


In the meantime, Ganir and Ondolemar hadn't even once looked over their shoulders to see where the Thalmor were. They were under the assumption they had lost them and had well made their way around the mountain and weren't too far away from Ivarstead.

They slowed down and rode alongside one another so the horses could catch their breath. "You look troubled," Ganir observed.

"The Thalmor's efforts are mostly focused in the regions of Hjaalmarch and the Reach. That we came across them back there doesn't bode well." Ondolemar replied. "I needn't wonder whether she knows or not, but Elenwen is definitely keeping up appearances by pressuring the Jarls and their people by keeping everyone on their toes with increased Thalmor presence."

Ganir dug a tooth into his tongue, contemplating whether to ask or not, but he felt far too compelled not too. "Do you regret helping us?"

"It's easy to say 'no' right off the bat," Ondolemar replied after pondering the question that caught him off guard for a moment. "I didn't just help a friend in need and I easily could have left it at that, but I didn't, which complicates matters more than you may even realize. I grew up admiring and respecting the Thalmor and was eager to join and rise in their ranks. I've made friends, enemies and rivals…Regardless of your success against Alduin, Ancano and I will forever be in danger of persecution, no matter where we go or in whose company we are." The High Elf waved a dismissive hand when the Dark Elf made to apologize. "I bear no resentment towards you for the choices I made. You asked a question and I gave you an earnest answer. I made my choice to do what I have done, believing it is right and needs to be done, though I know I will be made to regret it if all goes awry."

The Dark Elf nodded but the Altmer's response didn't make him feel any better. He knew he wasn't entirely at fault, but at the same time, he felt very uncomfortable over the situation Ancano and Ondolemar were in because they were helping him. It was why he was thankful when Ivarstead came in sight and they dismounted their horses to climb the mountain to High Hrothgar once more and he could think.

The High Elf had taken note of the grim contemplation in the Dunmer's eyes. What was I to say otherwise? Ondolemar felt no need or desire to lie to Ganir, but it seemed the truth wounded and troubled his friend even more. He winced when he almost pulled a muscle to look up at the mountain which was shrouded in mist and clouds. "Anything I need know about these…Greybeards? I doubt they'll be too eager to see an uninvited guest."

"I'm sure they won't mind your presence if you are respectful," Ganir said. "Just let me do the talking."

Ganir had traversed the seven-thousand steps a few times now and knew the way, but he couldn't help but stop sometimes to enjoy the view. Ondolemar initially didn't share the sentiment, cursing the cold, especially when it began to snow and the wind picked up, but when he saw Lake Ilinalta to the East shimmer in the distance, his breath was taken away. His eyes could see so far and down below and it made the world look so small and fragile, but it captivated Skyrim's rough beauty so well all the same.

Ganir wasn't sure what to say as Ondolemar's words gave him no promise of any reassurance, but both he and Ancano had made their choices knowing the possible, dangerous consequences. He knew he wasn't to blame, but he felt that if he was Dragonborn, he should've been able to prevent Cirilonde's death somehow. What if the same fate would befall the two High Elves because he failed them? His inner voice toiled for words that stirred deep within him, but he felt unable to speak. He wanted to promise Ondolemar all the security and safety of his watchful eyes. That he wouldn't let any harm come to him or Ancano, but instead, he turned away from the marvelous view. "Let's go." I can't live in fear of the 'what if'. I will do whatever I can or think is right, like I always have…

The High Elf nodded and they made their way over to the Monastery in the distance, where Arngeir already stood waiting. He didn't look displeased or surprised to see that Ganir was not alone this time. "Welcome back, Dragonborn, I see you were successful in your pursuit of finding the Elder Scroll. Who is this you've brought along? You know we do not welcome strangers."

"I am aware, Master Arngeir but I implore for you to let him in. He is in need of my protection and he can help me with the scroll." Ganir bowed his head respectfully.

The old Nord regarded the High Elf with unmoving, sharp eyes. He sighed and shook his head. "He is to stay with you. Go, Dragonborn. Paarthurnax no doubt awaits you."

"Thank you, Master Arngeir. Ondolemar's presence shan't inconvenience you, I promise." Ganir promised and they followed Arngeir inside, who left up the steps to the left, no doubt to return to his meditation.

It wasn't as cold as outside, but Ondolemar wondered how the monks survived all the way up here in this distant and lonely place. He studied the carved, stone walls and tattered, old banners depicting ancient tales and the crude, claw markings he was not familiar with yet. Ganir motioned for Ondolemar to follow him outside to the inner courtyard of the monastery.

The High Elf furrowed his brow. "So…Who exactly is this Paarthurnax? Are we to meet him here or…?"

The Dunmer shook his head. "He's at the summit of the mountain. Whatever you do, when he is willing to speak with us and comes, make no sudden moves."

"No sudden moves?" Ondolemar frowned. "What exactly are you hiding from me?"

Ganir's sharp teeth were as white as the snow when bared to grin. "And here I thought you'd gotten a taste for adventure and sating your curiosity…You'll see when we get to the top."

The High Elf rolled his eyes and heaved an irritable sigh. Incorrigible. But he nevertheless followed the Dark Elf up to the top of the Throat of the World.
Not satisfied with the answer either way, when they neared the summit, Ondolemar decided to press the matter again. "Paarthurnax. Quite a peculiar name for a … monk. Why exactly is he all the way up here?"

"You'll see." The Dark Elf grabbed hold of Ondolemar's hand to make sure he wouldn't slip and they walked over the fresh, thick layer of fallen snow that coated the jagged plateau of the top of the Throat of the World. The first thing Ondolemar saw, was the large, crude and crescent-shaped wall with claw-like writings. He had never laid eyes on anything like it. He wanted ask the Dark Elf what it was, when a sudden movement from the corner of his eyes to his left completely caught him off guard. He froze on the spot and stared wide-eyed up at the humongous dragon and wondered how the hell he hadn't seen it right away, but as long as it didn't move, the jagged appearance and color of the beast's scales and horns had him blend flawlessly into the surroundings.

"You have it. The Kel, the Elder Scroll," the Dragon said and a visible shudder rustled its scales. "Tiid kreh…galos. Tiime shudders at its touch. There is no question that you are doom-driven!" To add to his confusion, the dragon did not sound angry, but was rather amused, baring its teeth in an odd sort of grin before it locked its gaze on the startled High Elf.

"I hope you don't mind I brought company, Paarthurnax." Ganir couldn't help but grin at Ondolemar who stared at the dragon in disbelief, but more at ease now he knew that Paarthurnax was an ally. "This is Ondolemar. He has helped me obtain the Elder Scroll. What do we need do now?"

"Geh. Fahliil. You have interesting company for certain, Dovahkiin, but tinvaak must wait." Paarthurnax's throat rumbled and Ondolemar could only identify the sound as something close to a chuckle. He still had a hard time believing an ancient, live dragon stood before him, which defied logic in its own right, but the beast spoke and seemed serene of nature. He didn't think such a thing were possible, but what did he really know of dragons?

Paarthurnax, in the meantime, had turned his attention back to Ganir. "Kogaan Akatosh. The very bones of the earth are at your disposal, Dovahkiin," said the ancient dragon. "Go. Fulfill your destiny. Take the Scroll to the Time-Wound. Do not delay! Alduin will be coming."

"What? Do you mean Alduin is coming?!" Ganir exclaimed.

"He will. He cannot miss the signs, so hurry!" Paarthurnax urged. "I will do what I can."

Ganir gave Ondolemar a sharp look. "Stay back," he warned while he pulled the Elder Scroll out his bag, of which half the end stuck out. "And if anything happens. Run."

Ondolemar swallowed, his eyes shooting back and forth between Ganir and the dragon, whose eyes were fixated on the Dark Elf. Ganir had carefully pulled the Elder Scroll out of his bag and held it tight when he felt the pull between the Scroll and the Time-Wound near the crescent-shaped wall where a sort 'ripple' was palpable.

The Dark Elf's body went rigid when he felt a heavy pounding in his chest as though the Elder Scroll had breathed life into him once more when he stood at the Time-Wound. With shaking, sweaty hands, he unfolded the scroll and closed his eyes to shield them from the intricate, undecipherable and numerous writings that began to glow so bright it definitely would have blinded him had he not been prepared.

His body felt like it was being torn apart and held in place all the same, stretching not only the fabric of existence around him, but also within him and that which was part of him and his surroundings.
He felt about to throw up, but opened his eyes when the nausea instantly subsided and he felt solid ground under his feet.

He initially feared the vessels in his eyes had popped, causing the blurry, red-stained vision and the burning sensation in his eyes, but it didn't take him long to realize that while he had not specifically gone anywhere, he had gone back in time to the peak of the Throat of the World and that the skies were ablaze with flame. The skies were dotted with the black silhouettes of countless dragons in the sky, flying far and near around the mountain.

Ganir instinctively made to duck when a dragon flew overhead, but found that he could not move and the beast's tail went straight through him before it landed in the snow to fight two Nords, of which one was a woman, wielding a blade and the other a male, wielding a two-handed, large axe.

"Gormlaith!" The man cried to the woman who looked eager to fight the dragon. "We're running out of time! The battle…"

"Daar sul thur se Alduin vokrii. Today Alduin's lordship will be restored!" The dragon bared its teeth in a snarl. "But I honor your courage. Krif voth ahkrin. Die now, in vain."

"For Skyrim!" The man roared after the two Nords dove out the way from the flames erupting from the dragon's maw. After getting back to their feet and having gathered themselves, Gormlaith and her companion charged the dragon's flanks.

The dragon rammed the man with his head, but in the momentum of that turn, Gormlaith took a running jump to kick the dragon's maw shut when it made to devour the man. She held on to the beast's horn who shook its head to get her off of him. "Know that Gormlaith sent you down to death!" Gormlaith bellowed before she plunged her blade through the dragon's skull, killing it instantly.

She was fierce and fearless, her golden-blonde mane a tangled and bloodied mess. She pulled her blade out the dead dragon's skull, laughing. "Hakon! A glorious day, is it not?"

Hakon, the Nord male, glared at her as he saw no reason for celebration (yet) for many of their comrades lay dead. A large amount of corpses were strewn around them, staining the snow and stone red with blood of both humans and dragons. "Have you no thought beyond the bloodying of your blade?"

Is this…the Dragon War? Ganir wondered.

"What else is there?" she laughed.

"These men all lie dead!" Hakon snapped at her, and the grin was swept off her face instantly. "The battle below goes ill. If Alduin does not rise to our challenge, I fear all may be lost."

"You worry too much, brother," she assured him, her determination unwavering but her tone and attitude far more serious now. "Victory will be ours."

Hakon then turned to a third person, a man clad in robes who stood just behind Ganir. "Why does Alduin hang back, Felldir? We've staked everything on this plan of yours, old man."

"He will come." Felldir didn't sound or look as confident as he wanted too, keeping his eyes on the sky. "He cannot ignore our defiance. And why should he fear us, even now?"

"We've bloodied him well." Gormlaith said, her chest bursting with pride. "Four of his kin have fallen to my blade alone this day."

Felldir's eyes shot fire at the female. "But none have yet stood against Alduin himself. Galthor, Sorri, Birkir…I don't think you have the slightest comprehension…"

Gormlaith scoffed, "They did not have Dragonrend. Once we bring him down, I promise I will have his head."

"You do not understand," the Nord clad in robes shook his head, clearly irritated. "Alduin cannot be slain like a lesser dragon. He is beyond our strength. Which is why I brought the Elder Scroll…" Only now did Ganir see that Felldir didn't just have a staff strapped to his back, but the Elder Scroll as well. The very same one he held in his hands…or, wait…where had it gone? But he could still feel it in his hands. Ganir hissed and swore when a sharp, cutting pain shot through his head and blood poured from his nose. This had to be the effects Sep's book warned about…It hurts! In spite of that, Ganir refused to give in just because it hurt a little. He needed to know the Shout.

Hakon's eyes went wide. "Felldir, we agreed not to use it!"

"I never agreed," Felldir's arrogance was aggravating the other Nords. "And if you are right, I will not need it."

"No!" Hakon's temper flared. "We will deal with Alduin ourselves. Here and now!"

Gormlaith had kept an eye on the horizon, noticing how the dragons kept flying overhead or around the summit, but not approaching them. She soon saw why as an enormous, pitch-black and red-eyed shadow came flying towards them. "Alduin approaches!"

The massive dragon made the mountain itself shake when it landed on the Word Wall. Alduin's eyes narrowed, glaring down at the three ancient Nords who had dared defy him so brazenly, killing his subjects and followers.
"Meyye! Tahrodiis aanne! Him hinde pah liiv! Zu'u hin daan!" Alduin's roar thundered through the skies and even Ganir could feel the strength of it in his chest, recognizing the Shout that followed the roar right away, as it was the same Alduin had used to lay Helgen to waste.
The thunder's impact was deafening and the jagged lightning shot bright through the skies, creating a mesmerizing but deadly palette of colors.

Ganir wasn't going to lie. It was terrifying, but neither of the three Nords would be deterred. "Let those that watch from Sovngarde envy us this day!" Gormlaith bellowed, looking at her companions, who nodded, and joined together, they took sharp breaths before, in choir, they Shouted, "JOOR ZAH FRUL!"

The very essence of this Shout came nowhere near Ganir, but it was nothing like those he knew. None of those Words he had learned and heard stirred a most inner, wicked beast deep within him, making his blood boil and it caused an excruciating sensation of venomous hatred that devoured him from the inside.

Alduin had leapt to fly off, but the Shout struck true and the dragon was forced to the ground, flapping his wings uncontrollably as if trying to shake something off him. "Nivahriin joore! What have you done?!" Alduin bellowed, enraged but also terrified of this horrible sense of helplessness overwhelmed him as this power held him in its wicked grasp. "What twisted Words have you created?! Tahrodiis Paarthurnax! MY TEETH TO HIS NECK!" His eyes thinned to blazing, red slits of pure, venomous rage. They would pay for this humiliating, terrifying feeling that still chilled him so. "But first…dir ko maar. You will die in terror, knowing your final fate… To feed my power when I come for you in Sovngarde!"

"If I die today, it will not be in terror!" Gormlaith charged for Alduin and jumped out the way when the beast snapped its jaws at her, side-stepping the enormous maw. Her blade lashed him across the side of his face and blood spattered everywhere. "I can see it in your eyes, worm. You feel the fear, knowing this is your final hour!"

"Skyrim will be free!" Hakon cried and he charged at the dragon as well, but Alduin's jaws snapped shut around Gormlaith and he slammed Hakon against the nearby wall with his wing. Felldir stood frozen in fear and helpless, forced to witness how Gormlaith was brutally torn in two and her remains were sent flying.

"No! Damn you!" Hakon roared and he ran towards the dragon again. His eyes widened when the black dragon spat fire at him and he dove out of the way, into the snow to avoid being burned to ashes by the white-hot inferno. Bloodied from the hours of toil and battle, he realized with dread he had no other choice because he stood no chance against this monster alone, let stand defeat it. "Felldir!" he cried, giving in to his despair, "Use the Scroll! Now!"

As if snapped from the nightmare he had just witnessed, Felldir grabbed hold of the Elder Scroll and raised it while Hakon gathered all his courage, knowing this would be his death and attacked Alduin to divert his attention from the ancient Nord mage.

"Behold, Alduin on the Wing!" Felldir cried out. "Sister Hawk, grant us your sacred breath to make this contract heard! Begone, World-Eater!"

The dragon felt his whole body tense when an unknown, but most powerful force seemed to grab hold of him and his head snapped to the damned mage who held the Scroll after he ran Hakon through with one of his wing talons. "You cannot hope to banish me, joorre!" Alduin growled. "YOL TOOR SHUL!"

But the flames never hit their mark because the Scroll was too powerful for his flames and brushed past the ancient Nord who was now terrified by the fate that would await him. Hakon had fallen, pierced by the talons of Alduin's wings. Determined to succeed and avenge his comrades in this fashion, even if the Elder Scroll and its power took its toll on his body, Felldir did not relent. "By the words with older bones than your own we break your perch on this age and cast you out! You are banished, Alduin, we shout you out from all our endings unto the last!"

"Ganir…Ganir!" He felt the veil of time thin out and he was forced to his knees by the intensity of it when the Scroll's hold broke. Ondolemar caught him, visibly shaken that Ganir had been so badly affected by the Scroll. Blood poured from the Dark Elf's nose, and he was shaking with cold and fatigue. "We have to get out of here, now!"

Dazed and his vision blurry, the Dark Elf had no idea of what was going on at first, until he saw Paarthurnax to his right, perched on the Word Wall. A block of ice sank in his stomach when he looked up and saw Alduin in still flight above them. "Bahloki nahkip sillesejoor. My belly is full of the souls of your fellow mortals, Dovahkiin!" Alduin taunted. "Die now and await your fate in Sovngarde!"

"Lost funt!" Paarthurnax bellowed defiantly in spite of his fear. He had known Alduin would come, but he had not expected so soon, nor that the black dragon still instilled such fear within him. "You are too late, Alduin!"

When Alduin dove to attack the two Elves who made a run for it, Paarthurnax leapt off the Word Wall and rammed into Alduin. His jagged teeth tore at the black dragon and kicked his hind-legs against his opponent before flying off, buying the two elves enough time to get away because Alduin was forced to turn away mid-air from his assault.

"Dovahkiin! Use Dragonrend if you know it!" Paarthurnax cried before he flew after Alduin.

"Paarthurnax, you have defied me for the last time!" Alduin snarled. He made a sharp turn mid-air and turned the tables, chasing Paarthurnax. Whenever they got close to one another, the skies were lit up by the flames and other bellowed Shouts. Their claws tore away at each other's scales and hides and they struck each other with their spiked tails. "My time has come again. You cannot stop me!"

"Unslaad hokoron!" Paarthurnax snarled. "Never again!"

"Run, Ondolemar, get out of here!" Ganir yelled at Ondolemar before he ran off, dreading what he knew he had to do. The words rang clear in his mind and it immediately began to tear away at his inner being like an acidic venom, filling him with all the anger and hatred he had ever felt in his life until it boiled over, pouring into those three words, "JOOR ZAH FRUL!"

The Shout struck Alduin and he plummeted out of the sky, skidding over the snow-clad summit and crashed into the stone peak of the mountain.

Paarthurnax dove after Alduin and intended to pin him down but Alduin rolled back on his side and snapped his jaws at the brown dragon, who leapt back in time lest his throat get ripped out.

"Come and face me then, Alduin!" Ganir bellowed at the black dragon even if he was shaking in his boots now he knew what being he was facing. "FUS RO DAH!"

"YOL TOOR SHUL!" Alduin's powerful flames countered the powerful Shout in equal force, causing a wave of energy that briefly distorted their sense of balance. The black dragon laughed, "Your Thu'um has grown powerful, joorre, but you are no Dov! FO KRAH DIN!"

"YOL TOOR SHUL!" When the opposing elements of Ganir's fiery breath and Alduin's frozen, snow, ice and stone were sent flying in the wake of its impact. But Alduin was far too powerful for Ganir, who knew if he relented know, risked being obliterated by the sheer force of the black dragon's Voice.

Against all expectations, however, it was not Paarthurnax, who came to his aid, but Ondolemar who shoved Ganir out of the way, dragging him away from harm and the two Elves rolled over the jagged stones. The unrelenting force of Alduin's icy breath obliterated the Word Wall behind them.

Alduin leapt up to pounce the two Elves and devour them, but Paarthurnax came in between. "FUS ROH!" Paarthurnax then pinned Alduin down and the two dragons tore away at each other's scales and hides. The mountain shook as the dragons fought, their bodies coiling, writhing an ripping at each other's bodies.

"I told you to run, damnit!" Ganir snapped at Ondolemar after seeking refuge behind the remains of the Word Wall.

"I'm not letting you do this alone!" Ondolemar yelled back, startled by the sudden spatter of blood that flew in their direction.

Paarthurnax cried out in anguish when Alduin sunk his teeth into the brown dragon's neck. Without a second thought, Ganir bolted towards the two, fighting dragons, fearing for his life, but he wouldn't let Paarthurnax, his ally, down. He threw one of his daggers at Alduin, forcing the black dragon to pull away lest he loose an eye, "YOL TOOR SHUL!" The flames forced Alduin to retreat, but in spite of that he laughed.

"Your Thu'um has grown powerful, Dovahkiin," Alduin taunted, his black scales glistening with blood, which also dripped from his maw. "But I assure you that you will fail like you have done before and I shall feast on the souls of your beloved!"

"Then come down here and fight me, you cowardly wyrm!" Ganir bellowed. Alduin had been merciless and brutal in his attempt to rid the world of Paarthurnax, who had dealt severe and powerful blows that left Alduin just as injured as he.

Alduin laughed in spite of the pain. "Meyz mul, Dovahkiin. You have become strong, but are still arrogant. I am Al-Du-In, Firstborn of Akatosh! Mulaagi zok lot! Let us see how truly determined you are…"

At first, Ganir thought Alduin dove towards him in an attempt to devour him, but he made a sudden, sharp turn and dove towards Ondolemar, who had beheld the scene from the Word Wall. He stood no chance to evade the black dragon's tail that smashed against the remains of the Word Wall. The impact of the shattering stone and debris flying anywhere knocked Ondolemar off his balance, stumbling back towards the edge of the mountain. The High Elf cried out when the gust of wind from the massive wings gave the final push and he looked down to see what demise would greet him thousands of meters below.

In that split second, Ganir was caught between chasing after Alduin, pin him down with the Dragonrend Shout and end it, but when he saw Ondolemar on the edge of the summit, about to fall, he made his decision. "WULD NA KEST!"

Ondolemar closed his eyes and prepared himself for the endless fall to his death when a strong pair of arms pulled him back and he knew right away it was Ganir, whom he clung too with all his strength, even when they both tumbled back onto the ground. Terrified and still feeling death's touch on him, he refused to let go of Ganir, who had not just prevented a horrible fate to befall him, but also kept him safe in his arms.

The High Elf expected a sarcastic, mocking remark or told he could 'let go and get off now', but Ganir showed no sign of letting him go either, digging his claws into his back and shoulder.

"Lot…krongrah." Blood dripped from nasty-looking gashes on the dragon's flanks and his maw, but the worst wound had to be in his neck, where Alduin had sunk his teeth into his flesh. The ancient dragon was exhausted, beaten but not broken. "You truly have the Voice of a Dovah. Alduin's allies will think twice after this victory…"

"Ondolemar…Paarthurnax…" Ganir's eyes shot from Paarthurnax back to Ondolemar. "Are you all right?"

"I'm alive…" The High Elf swallowed, shivering more from fear than anything else. "I would've been dead were it not for you."

"Geh," said the dragon. "Zu'u lost aus volz ahraan. I will survive…I always have…And we were victorious…"

"So much for a victory." Ganir grit out. "Alduin escaped."

"Nii liivrah hin moro. True, this is not the final krongrah, victory. But not even the heroes of old were able to defeat Alduin in open battle." When Paarthurnax made to walk towards the Word Wall to perhaps seek some refuge or comfort, the two elves noticed the limp and both got up to help him. The beast shook its head, too proud but after a gander, the Dark Elf saw that the blood made the wounds seem far more grave than they were, save for the deep gash in the dragon's neck. "Alduin was always pahlok, arrogant, in his power," Paarthurnax's tongue lapped the blood up to clean the wounds. "Uznahgar paar. He took domination as his birthright…" Paarthurnax bared his teeth in a most satisfied grin. "This should shake the loyalty of the dov who serve him."

"Let me help you…" Ganir chest rumbled when he growled back at Paarthurnax who again made to refuse his offer to help him. The Dark Elf tore a piece of his tunic off and swept the blood from the wound in Paarthurnax' neck. After looking at the wound and stopping it from bleeding too badly, he saw that the hole in the dragon's neck was most likely left by one of Alduin's teeth. It looked nasty and painful, but it would heal. His anger didn't simmer in spite of this, however. Alduin had nearly killed Ondolemar, hurt Paarthurnax and he had escaped. "We both bloodied and burned that damn worm and he still got away. Where did he go, Paarthurnax?"

Paarthurnax shook his head. "I do not know, but his closest allies may…" The dragon clacked his teeth together in brief contemplation. "Motmahus…Convincing one of them to betray Alduin shan't be easy, however…" A visible shudder went through Paarthurnax' body and he finally gave in to the pain, weakened by the loss of blood and he laid down, resting his head on a stone.

"Paarthurnax!" Ganir barely knew this dragon. He didn't even know he could trust the beast, but from the moment he had met Paarthurnax, he had felt a deep connection which he knew was linked to the dragon blood coursing through his cursed veins. Seeing a majestic beast, who was also his friend, so weakened and in so much pain was terrible to behold.

Paarthurnax's good eye held an odd flicker when he regarded the Dark Elf. "Kos ahst forveyk…Worry not, Dovahkiin. I'm old, not dying."

"Are you sure?" The Dark Elf gently stroked the dragon's nose. Blood, hot air and the stench of embers and sulphur emanated from the beast's nostrils.

"Hi yirt! Bonu!" Paarthurnax winced when he let out an involuntary snort. "Go, Dovahkiin. Capture one of Alduin's allies and find him before he returns with renewed strength. I shan't be able to assist you the next time."

"I will make him pay," Ganir promised as he stood upright. "I promise." It took him some effort to turn and walk away from Paarthurnax, but he also respected the dragon's pride and desire to lick his wounds in peace.

Ondolemar looked at the dragon before he too turned to leave, glancing at Paarthurnax over his shoulder. "It was an honor, Paarthurnax. Thank you."

The dragon gave a small nod. "Ven aak hi, fahliil. Lingraav avok mok."


-x-x-x-x-


Kos ahst forveyk – Be at ease
Ven aak hi, fahliil. Lingraav avok mok – Wind guide you, elf. Watch over him.
Hi yirt! Bonu! – You jest! Begone!
Zu'u lost aus volz ahraan – I have suffered worse wounds
Meyye! Tahrodiis aanne! Him hinde pah liiv! Zu'u hin daan – Judging by the crude translation from , it should say something along the lines of "Treacherous fools! Your lives are at an end. I am your doom!"