There is a picture by DeviantArtist- ENFORCA which I think accurately depicts Resh (it's actually of a Naga but is still effective). Of course going to Tamriel he had to lose all his gold stuff but still, pretty damn cool, I also set it as this Fanfics picture.

Resh POV

Resh was almost sad that he had to leave Lydia behind so soon after their training. It had been fun. And, as the biting pain in his kneecap told him, challenging. To be honest, he hadn't expected her to learn that quickly. Nor had he, by any stretch of the imagination, expected her to actually best him in one of the rounds.

Maybe she wasn't as incompetent as he had originally thought. Then again, if she were to fight him properly on fair terms then no matter how capable she was at fighting, he couldn't think of a way she would be able to overcome him.

He had actually been meaning to talk to these Greybeards for a while, so it was a good thing this Arngeir pulled him aside to talk. The others would just whisper "Dragonborn" at him, as if it were a good thing, and shake the entire temple with their voice.

All previous thoughts were overshadowed by a new thought that came to mind when he shuddered. The cold, which was starting to torment him again worse than ever in this divine forsaken blizzard covered mountain.

'Why, oh why, did I have to fight without armour? How could I have possibly been so stupid? This place is colder than anywhere else I've been. So of course my magic would fade quicker.'

Thankfully he and Arngeir had been walking towards the room with the fire, so perhaps Resh wouldn't have to collapse on the floor shivering and he'd get to keep the remaining shreds of his dignity left over after having being injured by his underling.

At last Arngeir finally broke the silence, "Please, take a seat by the fire. You look like you need it."

"I was going to sit anyway, permission or no." Unfortunately Resh's little act of rebellion didn't have the substance to it he had hoped for, as he all but ran towards the fire to stop from shivering.

"I have much to speak to you about but you probably have many questions about this. So please, at your leisure."

"Remove this curse. I don't care how I got it or why I have it, I just want it gone. And you are my best chance at it. I don't want this thing… please," Resh all but begged. Shameful though it was, he probably would have gone that far if it meant getting rid of it and being able to return to his own people.

"It isn't something you get or have. It's something that you are. You can't turn it back, as it has always been. The only way to solve your problems would be a blade across your neck, or if you were to try to think differently."

"I am not above killing an old man. You would do well to stop speaking," Resh spat, not liking where the conversation was going, stiffening up and regaining his sense of pride.

"I can't even try to help you until you try to live with who you are. The snake which cannot cast its skin has to die. As well the minds which are prevented from changing their opinions; they cease to be mind," he replied with a smirk, letting his words seep in.

"You know my people? How?" he whispered at the mention of 'snake', stunned in shock that a human could have figured it out on its own. All other mammals seemed oblivious to what was a fairly transparent disguise to any other Tsaesci. The trick for his people was the distinct scent they all had that men and mer couldn't detect.

"It wasn't difficult. Did you really think, in all my years of trying to gain knowledge on dragons, I hadn't come across a Tsaesci? Dragons and Tsaesci are never too far apart, often trying to kill each other. And at the news of a dragon dying recently, it was more likely to be one of you than anything else, even if you are usually a continent away."

"How did you know? I look just like any of your kind."

"It was obvious really. The first clue I picked up on was your tendency to constantly try to stay warm. It may not sound like much, but if you were a true Nord you wouldn't need to bother. Your blood would fend off the cold. The other more reliable proof was the fight between you and your housecarl. No Nord, even one your size, could fight like that unarmed. And not even an Orc could lift a fully armoured and fully grown woman that easily," he stated matter-of-factly. It hadn't occurred to Resh how his strength could be an indication he wasn't a Nord. It was just natural for his kind to be powerful.

"So there's no way to get rid of it?" Resh sighed.

"No," he answered softly. Although Arngeir thought of being the Dovahkiin as a blessing, he still felt sorry for him. Even if he was a violent xenophobe that viewed all other races as prey, no one deserved to be the very thing they despise.

"Fine," Resh gritted his teeth at the sheer fact of the matter. "What am I meant to do now? I can't return home." That was the hardest part, knowing he could never go back to his own people without risking of death.

"Who says you can't go back? No one's stopping you. It would be a shame though. The only dragons alive are here in Skyrim and from what I know, the Tsaesci love hunting them. It would be too bad if you were to miss out on this opportunity especially as all the others are."

Resh's face twisted in anger. Of course he couldn't return. The ignorance of this man who thought he knew so much about his kind astounded him.

"I was going to return after travelling through Skyrim and leave on a ship from Solitude. And when I arrived back at Akavir I would be asked about everything. And being bound by honour, I'll tell them what I have discovered about myself. And there is no doubt that they would kill me and eat my flesh like they do to all other dragons. All other prey. So I have to stay. Around humans.It's either that or have my own kind devour me." His voice was a mixture of sorrow and anger. Arngeir shifted in his seat. Anyone could be unpredictable and dangerous in this state. The added fact that it was a giant, immortal, cannibalistic snake just made it even more worrisome for the old man.

"You could… help us. There are a lot of important matters that you could definitely help out with. You could try learning more of the dragon language." Arngeir couldn't tell what Resh was thinking but he just went silent and stared to the floor as the realisation his life was wrecked truly set in.

He could see why the Tsaesci would be opposed to being the Dragonborn. It was the ultimate irony. To be from a species that hunted and ate dragons but to have a soul of one yourself. He didn't know if Resh was still listening but decided to carry on and hope he was still paying attention.

"- or you could try to kill Alduin, the world eater, the draconic god-" Resh suddenly looked up from the floor at that last option that sounded worthwhile. Maybe by killing a god, his kind would overlook what he was. They had never held the gods in very high favour.

"-You could try sorting out the war there's lots of-" he was cut off from his explanation by Resh who had already made up his mind.

"Killing the dragon god sounds interesting. How would I do that?" Resh asked trying to put aside his troubles and sound inquisitive.

"I thought that would sound appealing. Talk to Paarthunax, our leader, about it. He can tell you more than I ever could. After that, the rest of the Greybeards will teach you the art of the Voice. Paarthunax is at the Throat of the World, the top of this mountain, where the ice never melts." Resh shuddered at the thought.

"Judging by the fact I'm freezing here, isn't it fairly obvious I'll die if I attempt to climb higher? There's a blizzard outside. I'll die in seconds. Can't he just come down?" And this monk was meant to be wise? If that was true any other Nord would be the equivalent of shaved Tang Mo.

"No. He never comes down. That's not like him. You have to go up. I could teach you a dragon shout to clear the winds, but that will only help so much."

"I'm not using that voice. I may have accepted it but I will never embrace it." Resh hissed at the words 'voice' and 'embrace', hatred spilling from his throat. He could never be okay with what he was. Perhaps he should let his people kill him. He deserved it for what he was.

"You could travel to the College. All kinds of masters of the arcane arts dwell there. I think you could probably find someone there to enchant an object for you. Maybe an enchantment to keep you from freezing over. Make sure they don't make it too hot though. You don't want to fry yourself just because you don't want to spend an hour or two sleeping in the sun."

"Where is this College, then? An enchantment like that would definitely solve a lot of my problems," he asked. But the look on the old man's face told him that he probably didn't want to know the answer.

"Deep in the heart of Winterhold, the coldest of the holds, prone to snowstorms," Arngeir told him regretfully, knowing how much it would pain the Tsaesci who was shivering, even next to a fire.

'Great. Just Great.' Resh thought 'Why do things always have to get colder?' He dreaded the trip ahead of him.

Lydia's POV

Lydia was starting to wonder what Resh was talking to that Greybeard about. She hoped it was worth ruining one of the few moments Lydia had ever had at bonding with her Thane.

She was shocked to see Resh leaving Arngeir that quickly. It had only been about ten minutes and now he was striding out of the room with his usual pissed off look, as if the Divines had personally offended him.

"That was quick." Lydia had figured that a meeting with the Greybeards would have taken considerably longer than that. Perhaps that was only part of what Resh was called for, and the rest would be discussed within the next few days.

"Pack the supplies. We're leaving," Resh announced before he realised the cold, shuddered and ran off to the courtyard to retrieve his previously discarded clothes.

"Already?" Lydia asked running to keep up with him.

"Yes, already. We're going to the College in Winterhold," Lydia didn't bother to ask why but assumed they were going to hone Resh's magic. There weren't that many other reasons she could think of.

"So… aren't you going to tell me what you talked about?" Lydia enquired, her curiosity piqued.

Resh sighed. "It turns out I can't get rid of this Dragon soul-" Lydia still didn't know why he would want it gone. "-and I have to climb the rest of this mountain to meet the Greybeards leader."

"If that's so, why are we leaving now? We're already here. Wouldn't it be easier to climb this mountain first, then go to the College." It was, after all a mountain they had almost finished climbing already. How hard could it be to finish it off now?

"I'll die if I try to climb it because of the cold. It's too much."

"You're a Nord though. A little bit of snow shouldn't bother you that much. I could probably go up myself if it weren't for the blizzards."

"Well, I'm obviously not like you, am I?" Resh snapped, not liking the idea the woman was more capable than him. "The blizzard is just my second obstacle but I'll deal with that after this."

"Did the Greybeards tell you how to get past it? If their leader is at the top, they must know a way up."

"Yes," he hissed "They want me to use the Dragon voice to clear the snowstorm."

"So… can you, then?" Lydia asked wondering about the power he had.

"Probably. But I refused to learn their vile tongue."

"Why?" She was shocked he turned down such a power.

"Because I am not a Dragon, and will not act like one. And if I do, you have my permission to run me through with my own sword." That put an awkward stop to their conversation and they continued the rest of their walk over to where their supplies were in silence, Lydia desperately trying to think of something to say so she could brighten the mood. And more importantly, start talking again.

Such a conversation starter wasn't found until Lydia had already finished packing up all of their equipment and was getting ready to haul it all the way down the mountain again.

"Can you carry some of this? You're obviously stronger than me," she asked. Resh puffed at the compliment but quickly hid his satisfaction so that he could show his distaste to the question.

"I thought you were meant to carry all my stuff. That's half the reason I keep you around." That comment stung but Lydia didn't show it. She also started to think about what the other half of the reason was.

"You could at least help. There's quite a lot here." Resh looked over and saw that there was. Aside from both the bedrolls, his own he never uses, she was having to carry her sword and shield, all the food and drink, all his and her own spare clothes, and also any other personal possessions she had with her.

"Fine. But I never needed help when I used to have to carry everything." They stopped and Resh started to sort through the things they should each take. Resh ended up taking most of it so all Lydia was left with was her own possessions and her sword and shield. They had now practically swapped roles.

"I can't picture you serving someone up to the point where you would have to do everything for them. I've always imagined you as the 'I serve no one and take no orders' sort of man. The only part of that which sounded like you was never having any help," Lydia laughed. But then, after seeing Resh's face drop at the mention of his past, she knew she had brought up unwanted and saddening memories.

"Then again, I'm sure that-" she tried to change the subject but was cut off by Resh who saw what she was trying to do.

"It's all right," he assured her. "You don't need to avoid a subject on the off chance it will upset me. I'm not an infant. And if you really want to know, I wasn't in charge of my previous party. Far from it, I was made to do everything. I only did so because the others were of a higher rank than me. You are right about me not accepting help very often, though."

"So you were at the bottom of the pile?" Lydia asked incredulously, unable to imagine someone who acted as superior as Resh being below someone else.

"I wasn't the only person at the bottom. But it seemed like it. Kayce was in charge and seemed to focus on me more than anyone, so I had to do all the menial tasks."

"Kayce?"

"That was my pet name for Kayci," Resh smiled at the memory.

"I'm surprised you were allowed to have a nickname for your superior," Lydia asked, prying to try and gauge the two's relationship.

"I thought of it years ago when we were of equal ranks and it just stuck. It would always get on her nerves. Made her feel weak. She knew I meant nothing by it, though. Plus she was the complete opposite of weak. In a fair fight I would barely stand a chance. As well as that, she rarely used weapons, making it even more remarkable," Resh told her.

Lydia could only imagine how good a fighter Kayci was if she could easily take on who she considered the most capable fighter she had ever seen.

"You were equal and she overtook you?"

Resh laughed, "Yes. She never got tired of rubbing it, in either. Regardless of title, we were still very close and we never let anything get in the way of that."

"How close?" It was fairly obvious how close they really were, and how close they got. But Lydia wanted to hear it from him.

It seemed to Lydia that Resh had just reached his daily limit of opening up and after a few seconds of silence he replied, "It doesn't really matter any more. Let's just go." The rest of the walk back down the mountain to Ivarstead was met with an uncomfortable silence that gave Lydia time to take in everything Resh had said.