Chapter Forty-Eight:

Dragonrend

It was to our grand surprise that the Tower of Mzark's lift led right to an unused camp. After searching around for the inhabitants, we realized there were none and used the large tent for a resting place, shutting the flap to expel the shrill and ice-cold winds that the peaks of the mountains bombarded us with. Our cloaks, our bedrolls, and even the abandoned bedrolls served as excellent heat sources. I wondered if we couldn't invest in a large tent like that one.

The next morning, as we packed and ate to recover our strength from the fighting down below, Milos and Cha'qim took down the big tent and packed it for our later use. Then we put out the fire we'd made in the fire pit and made our way down the mountain path.

When we'd hit the bottom, I realized there was a fort to the west, but Milos and Hiemdall shook their heads. So instead of stopping there to get rid of the junk we'd found, we went east and followed the main road. Of course, we had to do a bit of cross-country work to make up time, which landed us in the middle of the Weynon Stones, where a shrine to Talos was erected. It also led to us getting attacked by two ice wraiths and four frostbite spiders. (May I just say that it was ten times easier to kill the wraiths than it had been when I had to walk up to the summit of the Throat of the World all by my lonesome?)

We also met with a frost troll on the way, but he was less than hospitable. Hiemdall got in the killing blow and wouldn't let Milos hear the end of it. Then we passed by Loreius Farm, heading south towards Whiterun, and lastly passed Whitewatch Tower, where Milos killed all three of the bandits attacking the outpost (with our help), so then it was Hiemdall's turn to get the brunt of the headache (the rest of us merely suffered regardless).

Since Whiterun was close, we decided to stop there to sell the junk we'd gotten and hire a wagon while we were at it. Hiemdall wanted to stop by Jorrvaskr while we were there, and since he was the Harbinger of the Companions and had duties to attend to (that he'd slacked off on) I didn't really argue. I had my own stuff I was focusing on.

In fact, I had just finished up at Belethor's General Goods and was organizing my pack with the new room I'd acquired. I could hardly concentrate with all the shouting of wares in the market square, but it was a nice change from the kidnapping Thalmor, the near-silent Greybeards, the bitchy Blades, and the whole hairy problem I had going on. It was comforting, and while there was no smell of the salty sea nearby, it almost reminded me of Anvil. Of a home I'd wanted since I was a kid.

And it was standing there that I realized, if Kodlak was right, and he'd been my father, I was standing in front of the home I'd been born in. Breezehome.

I just stared at it. I felt no such attachment to it—no ethereal bond that said, "Hey, this is where you were born." It was a small little thing, and a house like any other in Whiterun. But it was old, like no one had lived within for years. It was in dire need of some upkeep on the outside, hinted by the vines that clung to the walls and the windows, and the overgrown bits of grass in the back (the front was clearly tended to, since it was on the main street in and out of Whiterun). Some windows had been broken by stones no doubt thrown by children. I was tempted to peek inside, but with all the bustle I'd surely be caught. So I pursed my lips and turned away from the house, hoping that I could just push its image from my mind.

Hiemdall soon caught up with me in front of Breezehome and smiled a bit solemnly. "You know, it's the first time I've really been in Whiterun and realized that there was no old man waiting to scold me for how long I took on a contract."

I snickered. "Now you're that old man, I suppose."

"I suppose." He shrugged. "Aela, Farkas and Vilkas have been taking care of things. I told them I'd only take a while longer, but then I have to get to Jorrvaskr and assume those duties. I hear tell that Jarl Balgruuf wants an audience with the new Harbinger yet."

"Lucky you."

"And his missing Thanes of Whiterun." He smirked. "Aela said his exact words were, 'They've gone gallivanting off enough!'."

I snickered. "Well, excuse me if I'm not exactly attracted to court life."

Hiemdall rubbed his recently-shaved chin. "Then, what are you attracted to?"

I paused and bit my lip in thought. "Hm... I used to think adventure. But then I was forced into one, so it's kind of a turn-off... But there's something still alluring about it, you know? Discovering new places, meeting new people, learning new things... That's the kind of stuff I like. That's what appeals to me in an adventure."

He smirked, and then said, "Adventures are like sweetrolls."

"Would you stop relating everything to sweetrolls?!"

"But you didn't hear the reasoning!"

"Don't want to!"

"What now?" Milos' voice drawled in annoyance. "Do you two need to be in a timeout before things get nasty?"

I crossed my arms as I glared at the Argonian. "Ha, ha. Very funny."

"I try." Milos handed Hiemdall and I some bread and sausage. "My treat. I've seen the way you two eat. You'll need it if we keep getting into fights with creatures and fools. Have you been keeping track of Masser and Secunda, Taryn?"

I was already nibbling on the sausage. "Uh... No..." I blushed. "I might have forgot a bit..."

Milos rolled his massive yellow eyes. "Good thing I've been, then. We still have a few weeks free from either of them being full. With any luck, we should be in a safehouse by the time anything happens."

"Thanks, Milos," I murmured.

He ruffled my hair. "Any time, shorty."

"I'm going to Shout you into a Gods-damned house, Milos! I'm tall for an Imperial!"

"And short for an Argonian."

"And a Nord," Hiemdall put in, smirking.

I stomped away. "I'm going to the wagon!" I called over my shoulder, trying my damndest not to kick them to their respective afterlives.

We were on the road not ten minutes later towards Ivarstead. When we passed the area that Milos, Hiemdall and I had engaged Aldren, I caught the Dunmer snickering. What about, I really had no clue.

It was late in the day by the time we arrived at Ivarstead, and late evening by the time we made it up to High Hrothgar. As the others set up their bedrolls, I had to get ready to make for the summit. So I had to beat the snow and ice off of my cloak so I'd be a little cozy on the way up. And hopefully, I wouldn't have to fight any ice wraiths. I mean, I was only going to meet up with Paarthurnax and read an Elder Scroll to learn a Shout that could potentially defeat Alduin the World-Eater. No pressure.

As much as I wanted to stay in High Hrothgar for the night, I realized the importance of the Elder Scroll and the Shout. If I got that over with, I could sleep for a day.

I left for the summit once I'd grabbed something to eat, and quickly lamented not being in a warm bedroll. The winds were high, and once I'd reached the rickety wooden bridge I feared being tossed into the valley below, but I somehow managed to hold on. I decided to buy some heavy gloves as soon as I got back to Ivarstead though. And maybe line my boots with some fur for good measure.

Finally, I reached the summit, where Paarthurnax was perched on top of some rocks and patiently awaited me.

"You have it. The Kel—the Elder Scroll. Tiid kreh... qalos. Time shudders at its touch." Paarthurnax nodded slowly. "There is no question. You are doom-given. Kogaan Akatosh. Blessing of Akatosh. The very bones of the earth are at your disposal. Go then. Fulfill your destiny. Take the scroll to the Time-Wound. Do not delay. Alduin will be coming. He cannot miss the signs."

"Yippee," I groaned, wondering if the Dragon could sense sarcasm. "So I just open it up..." I moved towards a shimmering in the Throat of the World. "Here?"

Paarthurnax nodded, and awaited the Elder Scroll. I set my pack and the Targe down, and then retrieved the scroll. It was heavier than I'd remembered, but I opened it fully. The symbols glowed dully on the page, but they soon brightened, and then I put the Elder Scroll down to relieve my aching arms, but where I'd held up the symbols was shining, as if I hadn't removed the scroll at all. And then they swirled together, creating a whirlpool of glowing light, and grew to such a brilliance I had to cover my eyes for fear of going blind.

I opened my eyes once the light had dulled. A red hue had taken the blue-green light's place. The world slowly came into focus, revealing a man in ancient Nordic armour with a battleaxe in his hands. He was tired and bloody, sweat plastering his beard and his hair to his face. He looked like he could have fallen over in exhaustion right there.

"Gormlaith!" he called over the sounds of Dragon roars and the shouts of men. "We're running out of time! The battle—!"

He only just managed to leap out of the way as a brown Dragon landed on the summit of the mountain. It bared its massive teeth at the Nord Hero.

"Daar sul thur se Alduin vokrii. Today Alduin's lordship will be restored." The Dragon let a puff of smoke escape from his mouth. "But I honour your courage. Krif voth ahkrin. Fight with courage. Die now, in vain."

The Nord gripped his battleaxe tightly. "For Skyrim!" he shouted, charging at the Dragon.

He had barely gotten a hit in before he had to fall back to avoid the Dragon's jaws, but then a Nord woman leapt from a rock and onto the Dragon's head, and began attacking it with her blade.

"Know that Gormlaith sent you down to death!" she cried, and impaled the Dragon's skull.

The Dragon fell limp and laid in the snow, a torrent of blood pooling around it. Gormlaith smirked and wiped her hair from her face, smearing some blood over her warpaint in the process.

"Hakon!" She stepped off the Dragon as casually as walking down a staircase. "A glorious day, is it not?"

Hakon frowned at the woman. "Have you no thought beyond the blooding of your blade?"

"What else is there?" she retorted in true Nord fashion.

"The battle below goes ill. If Alduin does not rise to our challenge, I fear all may be lost."

Gormlaith clapped him heartily on the shoulder. "You worry too much, brother. Victory will be ours!"

"Why does Alduin hang back?" Hakon asked rhetorically, and then spun to face an older man in what must have been an ancient variation of a Greybeard robe. "We've staked everything on this plan of yours, old man!"

"He will come," the older man assured the two warriors. "He cannot ignore our defiance. And why should he fear us, even now?"

"We've bloodied him well," Gormlaith added. "Four of his kin have fallen to my blade alone this day."

I whistled low.

The old man shot a dark look at Gormlaith. "But none have yet stood against Alduin himself. Galthor, Sorri, Birkir..."

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

"You do not understand. Alduin cannot be slain like a lesser Dragon! He is beyond our strength." The old man reached into his robe. "Which is why I brought the Elder Scroll."

"Felldir!" Hakon thundered. "We agreed not to use it!"

"I never agreed. And if you are right, I will not need it," Felldir responded.

Hakon glared at him. "No. We will deal with Alduin ourselves, here and now."

"We shall see soon enough." Gormlaith raised her sword to point at the sky. "Alduin approaches!"

Hakon glanced at Felldir and then sighed, drawing his battleaxe as Felldir equipped his greatsword. "So be it."

Alduin, scales as black as the night, descended on the Throat of the World. He landed on top of the Word Wall, which was completely intact, and not the ruined bit that Paarthurnax had been perched on when I'd first met him. He sneered with red eyes and terrifying fangs at the Nord Heroes.

"Meyye! Fools!" he called down at them. "Tahrodiis aanne! Treacherous ones! Him hinde pah liiv! Your hopes all wither! Zu'u hin daan! I am your doom!"

Gormlaith grinned and stepped forward. "Let those that watch from Sovngarde envy us this day!"

Alduin leapt upwards into the sky. The three Nords took a deep, collective breath.

"Joor... Zah... Frul!"

Blue light smashed into Alduin and, like a thousand hands working together, dragged him down in front of the Nord Heroes. He attempted to take to the sky, but his wings were being pressed firmly to the ground. Alduin struggled for only a moment longer before he roared at the Nords.

"Nivahriin joorre! Cowardly mortals! What have you done?! What twisted Words have you created?! Tahrodiis Paarthurnax! Treacherous Paarthurnax! My teeth to his neck!" He glanced around at the armed Nords. "But first... dir ko maar. Die in terror. You will die in terror, knowing your final fate..." Alduin drew himself up, and fought against the powerful blue light. "To feed my power when I come for you in Sovngarde!"

"If I die today," Gormlaith shouted, "it will not be in terror!"

The Nords began hacking at Alduin, but his scales were thick and absorbed most of the blows. Gormlaith violently attempted to hack at his eyes, but Alduin was faster than she and pulled his head upward.

"You feel fear for the first time, worm! I see it in your eyes!" Gormlaith boasted, and then cheered, "Skyrim will be free!"

The words had hardly finished leaving her mouth before Alduin enveloped her in his mouth and bit down. Blood spurted from her wounds, and she uselessly attempted an escape while Alduin played with her body, then used the momentum of his swinging head to release her and toss her hard into the Word Wall.

"No!" Hakon cried. "Damn you!"

Alduin turned his attention to Hakon and swiped at him with his tail. Hakon was tossed backwards and skidded through the snow, stopping just before Felldir. He looked up at the old man, wounded and pained from the new loss.

"It's no use! Use the scroll, Felldir! Now!" he ordered the old man.

Felldir wasted no time in grabbing the Elder Scroll from his robe as Alduin stomped over to them. He unfurled the scroll and held it up to read.

"Hold, Alduin on the Wing!" he chanted. "Sister Hawk, grant us your sacred breath to make this contract heard! Begone, World-Eater! By words with older bones than your own we break your perch on this age and send you out!"

Alduin roared and charged at them. But Felldir and Hakon held their ground, unafraid.

"You are banished! Alduin, we Shout you from all our endings unto the last!"

Blue-green light erupted from the Elder Scroll and surrounded Alduin. He was halted in his tracks, his eyes widening, and he snapped his jaws at the two remaining Nords.

"Faal Kel?! The Elder Scroll?!" He fought against the scroll's power, but it was a futile battle, even for him. "Nikriinne... Cowards..."

Felldir closed the scroll and pointed it at Alduin's disappearing form. "You are banished!"

Alduin roared one last time before he evaporated into nothingness. The silence that lingered was heavy and pronounced, and it was Hakon who eventually broke it.

"It worked..." he wheezed, clutching his side. "You did it..."

Felldir nodded slowly, his eyes sorrowful as his gaze fixed on Gormlaith's body. "Yes, the World-Eater is gone... May the spirits have mercy on our souls."

"For I will not!"

I spun to see a man in violet robes adorned with golden scales charging at the two Nords, an ancient dagger in his hand. A tusked mask hid his face from sight, and a hood tucked under his mask covered the back of his head. Felldir unleashed his greatsword and swung at the masked man, but the man summoned fire into his palm and unleashed a fireball at the old man. Felldir immediately put up a ward as Hakon hefted himself to his feet and attacked the man's back.

But he leapt out of the way and rolled to the side. "Ha! You three cannot best me! I am not as aged as my predecessor!"

"But you are still as mad as he!" Felldir clashed with the man, who only just managed to deflect the blow with his dagger. "There is no third!"

"No?!" The masked man spun towards me and leapt. I cringed. "Then who is it who stands here with you?!"

I gasped as the masked man hit me full-on, and then the scene before me faded into darkness. When my eyes opened next I was laying in the snow, the masked man's body unconscious and on top of me. I couldn't focus on my amazement. The beating of wings was close to me, and above me, so when I looked up I could see in the aurora borealis none other than Alduin.

"Bahloki nahkip sillesejoor. My belly is full of the souls of your fellow mortals, Dovahkiin," he said, showing off his mighty fangs. "Die now and await your fate in Sovngarde!"

Alduin beat his wings and made to turn as Paarthurnax intercepted him in the sky and crashed heavily into the World-Eater. "Lost funt! You fail! You are too late, Alduin! Dovahkiin! Use Dragonrend, if you know it!"

I shoved the masked man off of me and hoped I remembered the words to the Shout. Even if I did, didn't I need souls to use it?!

Well, it's worth a try.

"Joor Zah Frul!" The Shout caught Alduin as he made to attack Paarthurnax. Alduin roared uselessly as he was dragged down to the summit, his body slamming into the rocks and disturbing the snow. He was pressed to the ground, snarling and roaring in anguish and anger.

"My teeth to your neck, Dovahkiin!" Alduin hissed. "You will pay for your defiance!"

"I'll pay you in blood!" I retorted, drawing Dragonbane. "I hope you think of me when you retreat to lick your wounds!"

He snapped at me. I spun to avoid him and crashed the lightning blade down on his neck. Alduin screeched, the echo bouncing down the mountain, and gnashed his jaws at me once more. One of his scales cut through my leather trousers and dug into my skin. I clenched my jaw to channel the pain and brought Dragonbane down on the Dragon again and again.

The Dragonrend Shout finally wore off, and Alduin took to the skies once more. He slammed his body into Paarthunax, and for a moment neither of them were flying, but falling. Brother drew blood from brother until Alduin planted his clawed feet onto Paarthurnax's belly and took off, dragging his talons through the soft flesh. Paarthurnax screeched and struggled to land with Alduin close on his tail. Alduin suddenly roared a Shout that called flaming meteors from the skies, like back at Helgen. I covered my head and tried to duck out of the way, but realized there was another person in danger. Swearing, I grabbed the masked man by the legs and dragged him into cover.

"Lok Vah Koor!" I Shouted.

The meteor storm ended abruptly. Alduin snarled and searched around for me. I leapt out of cover and faced him.

"Joor Zah Frul!"

Alduin furiously fought against the blue light that swirled around him, but he once more slammed hard into the ground. I attacked him as quickly as I could, his scales slicing my legs, my arms and my torso with every chance he could bury them into me. But then Dragonbane cut through his scales and into his flesh, and pain became all too real for the Dragon. He roared and unfurled his wings, throwing me to the other side of the summit. Paarthurnax was perched above me, wounded and labouring in his breathing.

"Meyz mul, Dovahkiin," Alduin said. "You have become strong. But I am Al-du-in, Firstborn of Akatosh! Mulaagi zok lot! My strength is greatest! I cannot be slain here, by you or anyone else!" Alduin leapt into the air and spread his mighty wings. "You cannot prevail against me! I will outlast you... mortal!"

And with that final taunt, Alduin fled. Paarthurnax and I watched him retreat from us in silence, and then I realized the pain of the bitter cold on my wounds.

"I should've gone to sleep first," I mumbled in annoyance.

Paarthurnax sighed. "I should have rested as well, but I could not be sure of when you, Dovahkiin, would return."

"Wasn't sure when I was going to, either." I sighed. "You okay?"

Paarthurnax looked to his stomach. He was using his wings to shield his wound from the winds. "I am shamed to have forgotten grah voth dov. Battle with Dragons. But these wounds will heal as they always do." He shook some snow off himself. "Lot krongrah. Great victory. You truly have the Voice of a dovah. Alduin's allies will think twice after this victory."

"But we still need to find Alduin. We may have beaten him this time, but even with Dragonrend he caught us by surprise."

"Yes..." Paarthurnax looked me in the eye. "One of his allies could tell us. Motmahus... Slippery... But it will not be so easy to... convince one of them to betray him. Perhaps the hofkahsejun—the palace in Whiterun... Dragonsreach. It was originally built to house a captive dovah. A fine place to trap on of Alduin's allies, hmm?"

"I have my doubts the Jarl will think so," I replied. "Balgruuf just doesn't seem like the kind to lend his house to a stranger. Even if I'm the Thane and the Dragonborn."

"Hmm, yes. But your su'um is strong. Breath. I do not doubt that you can convince him of the need."

I paused, and then remembered the Dragon skull I'd seen above Balgruuf's throne. "Dragonsreach was built to hold a Dragon?"

"Yes," Paarthurnax answered. "This was years ago, you understand. There were more of us then. Before the bruniikke—the Akaviri—came and killed all my zeymah. Brothers." The old Dragon got a faraway look in his eyes. "I used to visit him from time to time. Nearly crazed by loneliness and captivity. Tiiraz sivaas. Sad beast. He did not even remember his own name. I do not know how he came to be caught, but the bronjun—the Jarl—was very proud of his pet. Paak! Shame!" He sighed once more. "The hofkahsejun has been known as Dragonsreach ever since."

I shook my head slowly. How long did a Dragon need to be locked up before it forgot its own name?! "I'm sorry for—."

A solid mass slammed into me, knocking the wind from my lungs, and we plunged together over the side of the summit, into the sloped snow and to the rocks.