"You have met her then."
It had been many years since Arngeir had known Paarthurnax to display such an interest in things outside his meditations. The ancient dragon nearly seemed youthful again, his eyes bright and filled with eager curiosity.
Arngeir did not envy his master's lonely existence. He and the other monks had chosen their solitary lives, but they yet had each other. Paarthurnax had no such companionship—no one of his own kind he could seek counsel with. And the man wondered if any beast was truly meant to be so alone, even a dragon.
"She…" Arngeir thought of the girl, who had so effortlessly breezed through the previous day of training. The words came to her readily, as if she had learned them long ago and simply needed to remember the power they held. At present, she was sleeping inside the monastery, having collapsed in the first bed offered to her. He sighed. "She is much younger than I anticipated. I do not think she is up for this task."
"Regrettable. But that is not your choice."
The old man sighed.
Night had fallen on the mountain and the winds whistled around the ancient stone of the monastery and through the emptiness of the courtyard, blowing the snow one way and then the other. Paarthurnax perched on one of the stone rises, his wings folded close. Outlined against the moon and the dancing lights of the auroras, he looked magnificent, the light forgiving to his gray and weather-beaten scales, and his manner was quiet and serene.
Arngeir could sense otherwise. "You are eager to meet her," he hedged warily.
The dragon looked down at him and a sound, like a laugh, rumbled in his throat. "You know me well, fahdon," he said. "I admit, I am… impatient. There is… bahlok. Frin."
Arngeir shook his head. "I understand, but I do not think that is wise. Not yet. We know so little of her."
"You worry." The dragon laughed again. "But you disagree even with yourself."
The monk sighed and looked back at the monastery as if looking in on the girl herself. "There is a war raging within her," he said. "She agreed to be taught simply because she believed she had no other choice. I do not believe she would have come at all, were she not compelled, and I do not have the words to quell the turmoil in her."
"Niid. Few would choose her burden if they truly understood it," Paarthurnax agreed. He shifted his weight and his great talons scraped against the stone beneath him as he resettled himself. "It is not in dov to change. We do not age, we do not die; we do not change. Yet she is being asked to change all she knows of herself." He tipped his head and blinked, slowly. "Drem, fahdon. Drem ahrk tiid."
Fahdon- Friend
Bahlok, Frin- Hunger and eagerness, respectively. "Hunger" here used to mean anticipation (though with dragons it usually has a destructive meaning).
Drem ahrk tiid- Patience and time.