Chapter 42
Dragon
"This is foolishness. You are not carrying out this mad scheme," Tari said flatly, folding her slender arms over her chest, her bright green eyes burning with fury.
Telepe turned from the pot of boiling venison that he was stirring to look over his shoulder at her, unable to keep an amused smile from spreading across his lips. "No?" he asked.
"No. If you try to speak with this dragon, you'll get yourself killed, and I shall not stand idly by while you do so," Tari stated, glaring up at him defiantly. "I forbid you from going."
Telepe bit the inside of his cheek to keep from chuckling at the scowl on Tari's face as he stood up and brushed off his backside, then leaned against the rough cave wall behind him and folded his own arms across his chest as he met her gaze. They, along with the rest of the Nedic army, had been led by Arnhelm to a deep cavern near the base of a mountain, where the escaped men-of-'kreath had set up their camp. The cave faced away from Falkreath, which Arnhelm had said was fortunate, as it meant that the Ayleids could not easily see them. However, in the mere few hours since they had entered, the cave had already made Telepe rather uneasy. He could swear that he heard whispers coming from the walls, mad as he knew that was. It was just one more reason why he was eager to leave as soon as possible to seek out the dragon.
"You forbid it?" Telepe asked, keeping his tone calm. "On what grounds?"
"It's too dangerous," Tari said stubbornly.
"Indeed?" Telepe mused, failing once again to keep a smile from creeping across his lips. "Tell me, my love, was it too dangerous when you insisted upon reading the Elder Scroll, knowing that it could blind you?" Tari opened her mouth to protest, but Telepe continued, "Or when you chose to attack an Ayleid farm in the dead of night with only a handful of warriors? What about-?"
"This isn't the same, Telepe!" Tari snapped, her voice ringing off of the cave walls and drawing the stares of a few of the men around them.
Telepe's smile vanished, and he pushed himself up to stand over her with his arms folded over his chest. "Then, pray, what alternative would you recommend?" he asked coldly.
"Pelinal can still face the dragon if someone must!" Tari snapped.
"If he must," Telepe repeated, glancing at the knight, who was spearing a bit of venison on his eating knife and blithely ignoring their argument. "We've already weighed the merits of that idea, and we decided that we cannot risk the dragon's retribution if it should escape."
"Yet you would face alone what an army cannot?! Whitestrake at least could withstand the dragon's wrath if it chose to attack him!" Tari countered sharply. "What will you do if you approach it and discover that it has no desire to speak with you?"
Telepe hesitated, then turned to look over his shoulder at Arnhelm. The boy's gaze was darting between him and Tari, and when Telepe's gaze fell on him, he flinched and took a half-step back, clearly not wanting to get drawn into their argument. "A question," Telepe said in as calm a voice as he could manage. "You are certain that the dragon refrains from harming the Ayleids that come to speak with it? Any Ayleid?"
"It… it seems so, yes," Arnhelm stammered.
"What of other races? Nords, other elves…?" Telepe asked.
Arnhelm blinked at him, then shook his head. "I… am uncertain, in truth," he murmured. "None have been fool enough to approach this dragon, after all."
"None save this fool," Tari muttered.
Telepe ignored her as he began pacing back and forth across the cave floor, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "Do the Ayleids that converse with it have some way to indicate that they aren't hostile? Do they wave a banner, or wear a specific garment, perhaps?" Telepe asked.
Arnhelm opened his mouth, then closed it and shook his head. "It does not appear so, no," he replied. "Some have approached wearing armor, others in simple robes."
"What about a sigil?" Telepe suggested. "Something to indicate that they are allies?"
"No," Arnhelm said firmly. "I believe that this dragon simply refrains from attacking the Ayleids."
"Which means that it shall attack you on sight!" Tari concluded fiercely.
"Shall it?" Telepe asked, turning back to Tari with a raised eyebrow.
"I am certain of it!" Tari exclaimed.
"Then tell me, if it attacks on sight, how did the Ayleids contact it in the first place, much less ally with it?" Telepe pointed out.
Tari opened her mouth to retort, then paused and considered his question. After a moment, she closed her mouth again and resorted to glaring at him.
"Perhaps it simply assails those that it feels are a threat to it," Telepe continued, folding his arms over his chest once again. "Is that typical dragon behavior?"
"It is not," one of Thornir's mercenaries suddenly spoke up. Telepe turned towards her as she pushed herself away from the wall she was leaning against and wandered a little closer. "The legends claim that dragons are vicious, cruel beasts concerned chiefly with dominion over others. In ancient times, they carved out vast domains and ruled as gods over men."
"Yet this one does not rule Falkreath," Telepe pointed out. "If it wished, it could certainly install itself as the ruler of the city, yes? And yet it remains in Ayleid hands."
"Perhaps it's simply using the Ayleids as proxy rulers," Edanu suggested.
"Perhaps," Telepe conceded. "Nevertheless, its behavior suggests that it is not a mindless villain bent solely on destruction. Nor does it seem to have any interest in conquest for the sake of slaking a cruel desire for the oppression of lesser races. Though we do not know why, we do at least know that it is willing to parlay," he concluded, turning back to Tari.
The girl was silent for several long seconds as she stared at the ground, refusing to meet his eyes. "And what if you're wrong?" she finally asked quietly. "I could not bear to lose you, Telepe."
Telepe sighed and put his hands on her shoulders, squeezing them softly. "We place ourselves in danger every day, Tari," he reminded her quietly, touching her chin gently. "And we cannot always protect each other from it. If I could read the Elder Scroll for you, I would. But I cannot. That is your task, your burden to bear. This is mine."
"But you needn't face it alone," Tari insisted, narrowing her eyes up at him. "At least let me come with you."
Telepe shook his head. "I wish to do this alone for a few reasons," he insisted. "First, the fewer people that approach this dragon, the better. I don't think that it will consider a single man a threat, but even a small group might be misconstrued as a hunting party. Second, if it is allied with the Ayleids, then perhaps it has chosen to refrain from attacking mer in general." He smiled slightly and pulled his silver-blond hair back to reveal his pointed ears. "I am hoping that it shall see me as an elf as well. However, it has attacked Nords on sight, and I fear that if you were to accompany me, you would place yourself in danger, if not both of us."
"Yes, but you have no proof that it is only attacking humans," Tari pointed out.
"I have no proof of anything regarding this beast," Telepe replied calmly. "I can only prepare as best I can with what little information I have and pray that my assumptions are correct. To that end, I must appear as non-threatening as possible, to demonstrate that I merely wish to speak with it." He sighed lightly, then took Tari's face gently in his hands. "Tell me… would you be as resistant to this idea if it was someone else proposing it?"
Tari's eyes widened for a moment, then she looked away. "That's irrelevant," she muttered stubbornly.
"It isn't," Telepe asserted. "Be reasonable. What is preferable – risking one life in the hopes of securing peace, or risking thousands in the pursuit of certain bloodshed?"
Tari grit her teeth as she looked back up at him. "It's your life that I worry about," she hissed to him, closing her hand over his. "You shouldn't put yourself in this sort of danger."
"Such is the life of an emissary, Tari," Telepe said softly, smiling faintly down at her. "If this dragon can be reasoned with, then I am in no more danger than if I were to approach a hostile Ayleid king." He paused for a moment, considering that statement, then chuckled. "Less, actually, as we have made several enemies in Cyrod, whereas this dragon has no reason to despise us personally. Yet you would not prevent me from walking into an Ayleid palace alone, would you? After all," he added quickly before she could retort, "I have done so several times already."
Tari grimaced, then sighed and squeezed his hand. "I dislike it," she muttered. As Telepe continued to stare at her, however, she finally relented, "But… no, I would not. So… I cannot prevent you from doing this either," she admitted reluctantly.
Telepe smiled gently and squeezed her hand, then released her face. "Thank you," he said softly. "Please, try not to worry."
"I shall anyways," Tari snapped as she glared up at him. "At least allow me to accompany you to the entrance of the dragon's lair." When Telepe began to refuse, she quickly added, "You were with me when I was searching for the canticle trees. The least you can do is allow me to do the same."
Telepe hesitated, then sighed and nodded. "Very well," he agreed. She grinned up at him, then finally pulled away as he turned towards Arnhelm. "Now then. What can you tell me of this dragon?"
Arnhelm furtively glanced between Telepe and Tari, waiting to see if they were indeed finished arguing, and then he turned his gaze to the cave entrance. "What would you like to know?"
"First, I wish to make it apparent that I do not wish to threaten it, and I do not wish to incur its wrath," Telepe said. "Do you have any suggestions?"
Arnhelm scoffed and shook his head. "Don't approach it at all?" he offered.
"Humor me," Telepe said in an irritated tone.
Arnhelm glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, then sighed. "Very well. While I am uncertain how the Ayleids avoided being incinerated thus far, I suppose that you that if you attempted to speak with it in its lair, it would see that as an invasion of its home, and it would be much less willing to converse with you. Likely, it would simply kill you as soon as it saw you." He paused for a moment, looking away as he considered something, and then he continued, "We've observed that it likes to watch Falkreath from a perch lower in the mountains, near some ancient ruins. If you approach it there, it might be less hostile."
"That's a fine idea," Telepe nodded. "How do I reach these ruins?"
"There are two paths one might take," Arnhelm replied. "You could try to climb directly up the mountain. I would not recommend it, however, it is extremely steep and icy, and you would likely injure yourself in the attempt."
"Let's avoid that, then. The second?" Telepe asked, folding his arms over his chest.
"There is a passageway a little further up the mountain," Arnhelm replied. "It's a short cave that allows one to bypass roughly half of the slope by following a straightforward path through the cavern and emerging near the ruins. Bear in mind, however, that the passage may be infested with skeevers, wolves, or worse."
"Excellent. I pleased that the paths in Skyrim are in such fine condition," Telepe said drily. "So, what do you know of the dragon itself?"
Arnhelm shook his head. "Very little, I'm afraid," he confessed. "It is massive, of course, and its breath is hot enough to melt stone. Its scales are dark red and seem to be thicker than any armor, as arrows did not seem to faze it in the slightest. I know nothing of its temperament, nor why it does not attack the Ayleids." He held his hands up helplessly. "If there was more I could tell you, I would, but this creature is as much a mystery to us as it is to you."
"I see," Telepe said slowly, frowning. "What if I were to offer it a gift? Do you have any suggestions of what it might desire?"
"Food, perhaps?" Arnhelm suggested weakly. "Venison? It might be less likely to devour you if its belly was full." When Telepe glared at the young man, he threw his hands up and protested, "I don't know! Ah… there are legends of dragons hoarding treasure and artifacts! Perhaps you might offer it one of yours?"
Telepe glanced down at his sword, then shook his head. "If I had one I could afford to part with, perhaps," he said. He then smiled apologetically and inclined his head. "Forgive me. I didn't mean to press you for answers that you didn't have. I'm simply trying to prepare myself as much as possible. Thank you for telling me what you can, Arnhelm."
Arnhelm seemed to relax slightly at that. "No… I understand," he replied in a mollified tone. "I wish there was more that I could do to aid you, but I've been more concerned with avoiding the dragon than studying it." He paused for a moment, then added, "I can at least show you the path to the ruins."
"That would be most helpful," Telepe agreed. He turned on his heel to face Edanu, who was standing near the eastern wall with his arms folded over his chest. "With your permission, legate?"
"See to your task, emissary," Edanu said, inclining his head. "And may the Divines watch over you."
Telepe nodded, then turned to Tari and held a hand out to her. "Shall we?"
Tari nodded silently and took his hand. Arnhelm led them out of the cave and into the deep golden light of the late afternoon sun. Telepe shivered and drew his cloak tighter around his body as a cold wind washed over him, while Tari pressed into him for warmth… and some measure of comfort, Telepe suspected.
Arnhelm led them up a narrow mountain path, guiding them along a road paved with slick, snow-covered cobblestones, and then along a steep incline running beside a cold ravine, which flowed down a stepped terrace of stones. Telepe's boots occasionally slipped in the shallow snow, and he could feel Tari stumbling beside him, but Arnhelm pressed on, apparently oblivious to their struggles, and neither of them complained. The trip was, admittedly, relatively short, especially compared to the vast distances they were used to traveling. Less than an hour had passed when they finally arrived in front of a massive stone archway that had been carved in front of an ominous cave.
"This is the passageway that shall lead you up to the ruins," Arnhelm explained, stopping short outside the entrance to the cave. "As I said, be forewarned that dangerous creatures may dwell within. Use caution."
"I'm less concerned about the creatures and more concerned about the cold," Tari remarked, frowning as she peered into the cave entrance. "Why is it filled with ice?"
"The mountain winds that blow through it bring ice and snow with them," Arnhelm explained. "Since the ice cannot escape, it simply accumulates. However, rest assured that you shall not be in the cavern long. It is a surprisingly short climb, and far safer than attempting to scale the mountain directly."
"Very well," Telepe said, glancing over his shoulder at Arnhelm. "Will you accompany us any further?"
"No," Arnhelm said firmly. "I shall remain here to guide you back if – ah… when – you return," he quickly amended himself when both Telepe and Tari glowered at him.
"As you say," Telepe replied coolly, before turning to Tari. "Shall we?"
Tari nodded, and together, the two entered the cave. Telepe had his sword drawn, while Tari gripped her dagger tightly in one hand and lightning crackled in the other. Surprisingly, the cave was rather well-lit, as the sheets of ice reflected the dying light of the sun outside through narrow gaps in the ceiling above. Telepe was grateful for that small mercy, since the floor was almost completely coated in ice and snow, making their ascent exceedingly difficult. There were small patches of snow that allowed them some traction, and previous travelers had apparently vainly tried to break up the ice from time to time, but it was still nearly impossible to keep their balance.
"This is the less dangerous path?" Telepe grunted as his boot slipped on a slick stone, and he just barely managed to catch himself on a gloved hand before he fell to the ground.
"Quite," Tari hissed as she nearly tripped over a frozen stone. "Is it too late to return-?"
Before she could finish her thought, a white shape suddenly came barreling around the corner, barking as it lunged at them. Telepe instinctively dropped into a dueling stance, but the sudden shift in his weight caused him to lose his balance, and he fell onto his side. Thankfully, he fell to the ground just as the beast leapt for his throat, and it sailed harmlessly over him, landing five feet away with an irritated growl. Its paws scrabbled on the ice as it swung back towards them, and as Telepe climbed to his feet, he finally recognized the creature as a large white wolf, standing as high as Telepe's waist and baring a mouthful of sharp teeth.
Before it could lunge again, Tari held her hand up and murmured something, and a blast of lightning singed the creature's flesh. The wolf let out a pained yelp, then rounded on Tari and pounced at her. Telepe cried out as the beast sank its teeth into her arm, his heart pounding with fright and concern. However, Tari simply held her forearm up, and though the wolf shook its head furiously back and forth, Tari didn't make a sound. After a moment, Telepe realized why – her arm was coated in a thin layer of hard, grey stone. Apparently, she had made more progress towards mastering the spell than he had realized, much to his relief.
The wolf let go of her arm and started to circle around her, but by that point, Telepe had regained his balance. Before it could lunge at her again, he stepped in and thrusted. The tip of his sword pierced the wolf's flank, and a flash of red light erupted from the point of his sword. The wolf whimpered and scampered past them, fleeing for the entrance of the cave. Telepe watched it warily until it was out of sight, and then he turned his attention to Tari.
"Are you injured?" he asked, gingerly taking her arm in his hand.
"A few marks, but nothing more. It didn't even break the skin," Tari replied as the stone coating on her skin crumbled and faded. Telepe saw bruises marking her fair skin, but she didn't seem to be in any serious pain, so he decided not to worry.
As he released her arm, a furious roar echoed from deeper into the cave. Telepe looked over his shoulder with a mixture of dread and exasperation welling up inside of him as something large stomped towards them. An enormous, ape-like beast lumbered around the bend, propelling itself forward on its knuckles and trunk-like legs. Its front was covered in leathery grey skin, beneath which rippled enormous muscles. Its long arms were as thick as logs, and as its three eyes turned towards them, Telepe felt his heart stop.
He had seen trolls before, but none quite like this. Tentatively, he dropped into a dueling stance once again as Tari timidly whispered "Molag," and a pale flame began flickering in her hand. He could feel Tari shivering beside him, and his own heart seemed to be pounding in his throat.
The troll roared again and raised its hands, but before it could charge, a flash of deep violet light erupted in front of it. A feminine figure cloaked in fire materialized from the burst of light, floating a few inches above the ground, which ignited under its feet. The troll hesitated as the daedra held up a hand, then roared a challenge at it. In response, the atronach almost casually flung a ball of flame into its face.
The troll bellowed in pain and staggered backwards as the fiery daedra advanced on it. Streams of fire erupted from its hands, washing over the troll, and though the troll's screams echoed off the hollow cave walls, the daedra pitilessly continued to incinerate it. After several long seconds, the troll's shrieks finally ceased, and it slumped to the ground. The sickening stench of burned flesh and fur hung heavily in the air as smoke curled up from its blackened body.
The flame daedra turned towards Telepe and Tari, and the pair immediately raised their weapons, but the daedra folded its hands behind its back and floated silently in front of them. Telepe's fear melted into confusion, and as he started to lower his sword, a purring voice behind them remarked, "Have no fear. It shall not attack you unless commanded to, and this one has no desire to do so."
Telepe and Tari both swung around to see Ra'karra sitting on her haunches in a patch of snow, her bright green eyes glittering as she gazed up at them. Telepe glanced over his shoulder at the flame daedra again, then hesitantly sheathed his blade.
"Did… did you…?" he stammered.
"Of course. Did you think this one would travel the breadth of Tamriel without being able to defend myself?" Ra'karra asked smugly. "Elves and men are not the only ones gifted in the ways of magic, after all."
"I see," Telepe said slowly, still somewhat dazed by all that had transpired in the last few minutes. "Thank you," he added quickly, not wanting to seem ungrateful. As Ra'karra bowed her head graciously in reply, he added, "If I may, though, why are you here? Did you decide to follow us?"
"Yes," Ra'karra replied calmly, flicking her tail behind her as she raised her head again. When Telepe stared at her quizzically, she explained, "This one has already said that she wishes to watch you conduct diplomacy when you are at a disadvantage." She let out a soft chuckle, flicking her ear in amusement. "Certainly, you could not be at more of a disadvantage than attempting to negotiate with a dragon."
"Then… you are aware of the danger we face?" Telepe warned her.
"Just as you are," Ra'karra countered coolly.
Telepe grimaced, then inclined his head, conceding the point, while Tari smirked at him. "If so, then I'll not stop you," he said slowly. "However, if the dragon sees you…."
"Do you believe your negotiations shall be endangered by the presence of a mere feline? Is the dragon likely to consider this one a threat equal to your entire army?" Ra'karra asked sarcastically. Telepe opened his mouth, then closed it, unable to argue her point. "Besides, as you well know, this one is quite adept at remaining unseen if I wish."
Telepe stared at her for a moment longer, then inclined his head reluctantly. "Very well," he acknowledged. "I shall be glad of your company, then."
"Very good. Then let's be off," Ra'karra stated imperiously, before padding past the two humans. Telepe and Tari traded amused looks, then turned and followed her up the icy path.
Fortunately, they completed their climb without further incident, and they emerged from the frozen passage halfway up the snow-covered mountain, just as Arnhelm had said. Before them was a set of hand-carved stairs built into the side of the mountain, with enormous aquiline statues made of granite flanking the path on either side.
In the distance, Telepe could hear a faint growling even over the howling wind blowing across the path. The sound made his heart stop as it seemed to reverberate through his bones, and every primal instinct he had warned him not to press onward. However, far from obeying his natural inclination to flee as quickly as possible, he instead undid his belt and slid his sword off of it.
"If you wouldn't mind keeping this safe for me, Tari?" Telepe asked, holding up the sheathed blade.
Tari's eyes widened as he offered her his weapon, and then she narrowed her eyes at him. "You are not serious," she stated flatly.
"I am," Telepe replied as he clipped his belt around his waist once more, then held the sword out to her. "I am here to conduct diplomacy. While it is not unheard of for an envoy to carry a weapon, if I approach wearing a sword, I fear that it shall mistake my intentions and think me some foolish adventurer who wishes to take its life. I cannot risk any misunderstandings."
Tari glanced at his sword, and then back to him, but when she saw the resolute look in his eyes, she reluctantly sighed and took the blade from him. "You are a fool, you know," she grumbled.
"I am," Telepe agreed blithely. When Tari glared at him, he added, "However, even without my sword, I am not defenseless." He opened his hand, and a flash of green light flared in his palm for a moment as he smiled at her. "And I shall also have Ra'karra with me," he added, glancing over at the Khajiit, who was sitting on a nearby boulder, staring at the stairs and apparently ignoring them.
"You're still a fool," Tari repeated. She then stepped closer and put her hand on his cheek, before leaning up to brush a soft kiss against his lips. "Be careful," she murmured.
"I intend to," Telepe assured her, giving her hand a soft squeeze. He then turned to Ra'karra an announced, "Let's be off."
"As you say," Ra'karra agreed, stretching languidly before leaping off of the boulder and padding towards the stairs with Telepe in tow. Tari lingered by the entrance to the cave, holding Telepe's sword to her chest and watching the pair anxiously, barely restraining herself from following them.
The wind became more intense as they ascended the stairs, pelting them with loose snowflakes. Ra'karra daintily bounded up the steps while Telepe trudged up them more deliberately to avoid losing his balance on the slick stones. The pair slowly passed under the shadow of the massive totemic statues, and then turned to their left to continue following the path.
The clearing ahead of them was dominated by a heavy granite archway, marking the entrance to a clearing. Beyond that was a low, semicircular wall, with strange markings carved into its surface. Telepe was only vaguely aware of his surroundings, however, as it was the massive form perched atop the wall that demanded his full attention.
The creature staring at him was as large as a small house, and seemed three times larger than that. Its body was covered in deep, bloodred scales, each as large and as thick as a small shield. Its forelimbs were a pair of large, leathery wings, which gripped the stone beneath it, as did its wickedly curved, taloned feet. Bony spikes as long as Telepe's arm protruded from its head, its neck, and its jaw, and a pair of curled horns crowned its skull. Its bright yellow eyes burned malevolently as they fixated on Telepe, and he immediately felt like a mouse caught under an eagle's gaze. As Telepe stood stock-still, the dragon opened its mouth and let out a low, threatening growl, vocalizing its displeasure at his presence in no uncertain terms.
Every muscle in Telepe's body screamed for him to flee, yet in the back of his mind, he knew that if he dared to run, the monster in front of him would happily give chase. He was intruding on its territory, and yet it seemed to be giving him one opportunity to explain himself, if only for the sake of idle curiosity. Ironically, the only safe path was forward. As his stomach churned with fear, Telepe strode forward as confidently as he could, holding his hands up as he did to show that he was unarmed.
When he was within a few dozen paces of the dragon, it growled again, and Telepe immediately stopped in his tracks, his heart pounding in his ears. The dragon appraised him silently for several long moments as Telepe's mind raced, wondering if he was about to be incinerated, or if the dragon would at least be merciful enough to end his life quickly with a single bite of its powerful jaws. Why had he not brought Pelinal with him?! Diplomacy be damned – he was a fool to approach this monster without a guard, and now he was going to be killed for his arrogance!
The seconds seemed to stretch into hours as the dragon stared down at him, the silence lingering uncomfortably as the wind billowed around them. Then, at last, the dragon said, "Aan volaanmey hinde dir. A foolish interloper wishes to die. Who dares come before me?"
Telepe tried to speak, but suddenly found that his throat was exceptionally dry. He swallowed quickly, then took a deep breath to steady his nerves. Exhaling slowly, he replied in as calm a voice as he could manage, "I have come to speak with you about the nearby town of Falkreath, and your relationship with the mer occupying it."
The dragon snorted, steam escaping from its nostrils, and its yellow eyes narrowed. "Aan mey hokoron, ruz." Its yellow eyes raked down his body, and then it asked, "You've come to threaten me into submission, yet you carry no weapon?"
Despite his fear, Telepe felt a spark of indignation at the dragon's insinuation. "I have not come to threaten, nor to fight. Merely to speak with you," Telepe insisted. As the dragon tilted its head back curiously, he added, "What's more, do you think that I could pose a threat to you, even if I did bear a weapon?"
The dragon stared at him for a moment, and then, to his surprise, it let out a low, amused chuckle. "No," it agreed bluntly. It seemed to relax somewhat, pushing itself out of its crouched stance to sit back more comfortably on its haunches, though it continued to regard him with open contempt, if not hostility. "Very well. Let us tinvaak. Who are you to demand my attention?"
Telepe found himself calming down as the dragon continued speaking with him. Of course, he was still terrified, and very much aware of the danger he was in, but so long as the dragon was granting him an audience, he was in his element. "I am an emissary, come on behalf of a rebellion of Nedic slaves in the lands of Cyrod, beyond the Jerall Mountains," Telepe explained. "My name is Telepe. If I may, whom do I have the honor of addressing?" he added, folding his hands behind his back.
The dragon lowered its head slightly, narrowing its bright yellow eyes. "Zin lost suleyk. Names have power, emissary," it growled to him. "You are unwise to give yours so freely."
Telepe smiled slightly to himself. "The name that I gave you is not the name that I was born with," he explained calmly. "It is a name that I earned through my deeds. It is not who I was, but who I have become, and I take pride in it. Why should I not share it?"
The dragon stared at him silently for a few moments longer, and then it let out a low chuckle and looked away. "Ful nil drehni mindok thu'um. Pruzah," it muttered to itself. It then turned back to him and nodded. "Very well, emissary. You may address me as Nahfahlaar. Now, you still have not properly explained why you trespass on my territory."
Telepe inclined his head politely. "Please forgive my intrusion," he replied amiably. "As I said, I wish to discuss the Ayleids currently holding the town of Falkreath. Several days ago, it was attacked by a Nordic army, which had come to liberate the city. By one account, you arrived shortly after and began attacking the Nords. Is that so?"
Nahfahlaar's lip curled back, and he let out a low, threatening growl. "If I was?" he snarled.
Telepe held up a hand as calmly as he could, trying to keep the conversation peaceful. "As I said, I speak on behalf of another army that recently arrived. Our quarrel is solely with the Ayleids occupying the city, and we would rather avoid conflict with you if at all possible." When the dragon let out another low growl, he added, "I simply wish to understand your reasons, and to verify if that account is accurate."
"Very well. Whomever witnessed my part in that grah was not mistaken," Nahfahlaar replied slowly, shifting his grip on the frigid stone under his wings. "Yes, I aided the mer, at their request."
"To what end, if I may?" Telepe inquired politely.
The dragon exhaled slowly, his breath misting in the air. "What do you know of the history of the Nords and the dov, boy?" he asked.
"Very little, in truth," Telepe admitted.
"Then know that the Bron have been the mortal hokoron of the dov since ancient times," Nahfahlaar explained, settling back on his haunches. "Those jul were once our loyal zaam, until they turned on their betters. They defeated my master and have spent the centuries since hunting my kin and I."
Telepe tilted his head back slightly. "I see. Then did you form an alliance with these Ayleids for the sake of revenge?"
"Partially," Nahfahlaar replied. "I shall confess, I did take some pleasure in making those arrogant Bron flee like frightened rabbits. Ever since they rebelled against us and formed their own juunar, they have spread across Tamriel like a krasnovaar, pillaging and murdering, even in lands they could not ancestrally claim as their own. Though the dov did the same in ages past, these Bron are as greedy and ruthless as we ever were."
"Yes… I am well aware. My own lands have suffered at their hands, so I can sympathize," Telepe agreed bitterly. He was partially admitting that to form a connection with the dragon, but he'd also had no love the Nords since they had invaded his own homeland.
Nahfahlaar stared at him silently for a moment, apparently considering whether he was being honest or not, and then he continued, "However, revenge alone is a petty motive. No, what I seek from these mer is far more valuable."
"Then what is it you desire?" Telepe asked, holding his hands out. "Land? Wealth, perhaps?"
The dragon snorted disdainfully. "What use is yuvon if one is not alive to enjoy it?" Nahfahlaar retorted.
Telepe was about to reply, but then he paused and considered the dragon's words. His eyes widened with realization. "Sanctuary," he murmured. "You aid the Ayleids because you seek sanctuary. You value survival above all else."
Nahfahlaar's eyes widened briefly, apparently impressed with Telepe's deduction. "Quite," he admitted. "I have made many enemies in my life. Unlike other dov, I do not take my unslaad laas, my immortality, for granted. Though dovah do not die as mortals do, we may be slain for a time, and I do not wish to experience that frightening vulom, that void, temporary as it may be. What's more, even if we do not die, there are fates far worse than death. I wish to live without worry, without strife. These mer have promised me a sanctuary that I could not find in the rest of Skyrim."
"And that satisfies you?" Telepe asked simply.
"It does," Nahfahlaar replied. "Now I may praan viingi, secure in my domain, while enjoying some small revenge on the Bron. It is enough."
Telepe considered the dragon for a few long seconds, and then he smiled sadly and shook his head. "In truth, I would not find that satisfying," he replied. When Nahfahlaar raised his head, almost as though questioning him, he added, "I would feel as though I had been caged."
Nahfahlaar's lip curled again, and he let out a low growl. "What would you know of it, joor?" the dragon hissed dangerously.
Telepe inclined his head respectfully. "You are a dragon. One of the mightiest creatures in Tamriel. You are the embodiment of power and freedom, yet you are confined to one small corner of Skyrim, and you serve at the beck and call of a mere few hundred elves." A sad smile spread across his lips. "The Ayleids are well-known for enslaving others, Nahfahlaar, and it seems they have done the same to you without even binding you in chains."
Nahfahlaar's eyes widened, and he snapped his jaws as he lunged forward on his perch, though he didn't leave it. Though several feet separated him and the dragon, Telepe couldn't help but flinch. "You know nothing!" Nahfahlaar bellowed.
"Then help me understand," Telepe replied, keeping his tone as soothing as possible. "You mentioned that you have made enemies. Are the Nords your only enemies?"
The dragon hissed furiously, its tail whipping behind it. "I have many foes," Nahfahlaar repeated.
"Then perhaps you might consider making an ally instead," Telepe asked gently.
Nahfahlaar hesitated, his anger momentarily subsiding. His yellow eyes narrowed suspiciously, and he growled, "You refer to yourself, I presume?"
"You have reached an understanding with the Ayleids, have you not?" Telepe pointed out. "Would you not consider one with the Nedes as well?"
Nahfahlaar hissed softly, his tail once again twitching behind him like a cat. "I have no reason to trust you, joor," he observed. "You have already admitted that you are waging kein on the people that I have sworn to aid. What's more, you have brought an army across the mountains, yet your arrival has not seemed to alarm Skyrim's Jun." The dragon narrowed his eyes into thin, yellow slits. "What is your purpose here, joor?"
Telepe swallowed, hesitating for a moment. He briefly considered bluffing, but he quickly discarded that thought. The dragon was right – he had no reason to trust them, and lying would only serve to reinforce that mistrust, especially if his deception was uncovered. All he could do was admit their reason for coming to Skryim. Bracing himself, he answered, "We have come to forge an alliance with the Nords, so that they may aid us in liberating Cyrod from the Ayleids."
Nahfahlaar stared at him, then hissed derisively. Telepe noted that the sound was more disappointed than furious. "You approach me requesting fadonaar, an alliance, yet you also seek to ally with my mortal enemies?!" he spat scornfully. "Why would I join you?!"
"I asked you to ally with us. Not with the Nords," Telepe pointed out. Nahfahlaar gave him a sidelong glance, and he continued, "As I've said, I sympathize with you. I know firsthand how aggressively the Nords expand into territory that is not their own. I have a vested, personal interest in ensuring that they do not do the same in Cyrod. Any alliance with them would include the demand that they respect Cyrod's sovereign territory." As the dragon continued to hesitate, he added, "Furthermore, you detest the Nords, yes? Your hatred is understandable, but if you were to ally with us, we would happily place you under our protection, denying the Nords any opportunity to pursue you."
The dragon raised his head slightly. "You believe you could prevent that?" he asked skeptically.
"I do," Telepe said firmly. "We came to Skyrim to secure an alliance with them. I doubt they would have extended the invitation, only to revoke it over the life of one dragon."
"And if they did?" Nahfahlaar countered.
Telepe shrugged. "It would be unfortunate for us, certainly, but we have emerged victorious in nearly every battle in this war. The Nords' aid is helpful, but not vital." He decided not to mention that if their suspicions about Umaril's pact with Meridia were correct, though, the Nords' aid may soon become vital. "On the other hand, I would implore you to consider the benefits and risks of maintaining your alliance with these Ayleids. You are beholden to perhaps three hundred mer. How much aid are they providing you? How much protection could they truly offer if the Nordic army decided to attack in force? And what if the Nords asked us to aid them in order to establish our alliance? Certainly, you could inflict a great deal of harm upon both of our armies, but I doubt that even you could defeat thousands of enraged warriors."
Nahfahlaar let out a low, threatening growl, and Telepe immediately fell silent. He folded his hands behind his back, struggling not to quake as the dragon lowered his stance, seemingly on the verge of pouncing on him. "Did you simply come here to threaten me?" he hissed dangerously.
"I am not threatening you," Telepe replied as calmly as he could. "I am simply encouraging you to consider why an alliance with us is preferable to maintaining your association with these elves. Furthermore, we have far more to offer you than what a mere three hundred Ayleids holding one small village in Skyrim can."
"And that is?" Nahfahlaar snarled, his tone warning Telepe that his patience was wearing thin.
"While I highly doubt that the Nords would outright declare war on us simply for protecting you, consider that you would immediately gain the protection of an army of over two thousand warriors… and that is merely what we have brought into Skyrim," Telepe explained. He chose not to mention that at least half of that army was comprised of Nordic mercenaries who might turn on them if King Vrage ordered them to. "Our army beyond Skyrim numbers thousands more, offering you even greater security." He then swept his arms at the mountains surrounding them. "Furthermore, you would no longer be restricted to a tiny portion of land in a cold, desolate mountain range. The rebellion has conquered vast swaths of Cyrod, equal to perhaps a third, if not half, of the land in Skyrim. You would be free to travel as you please, making your lair wherever you wish." A faint smile crossed his lips, and he added, "I also believe you would find the warmth of Cyrod far more pleasant than Skyrim."
Nahfahlaar let out a snort. "Cyrod is also the homeland of the Ayleids," he pointed out drily. "Do you truly believe that they would let one who committed ninzuth, who betrayed them, to fly freely through their lands?"
"As I've said, Cyrod is a vast realm. If you do not feel safe in one area, you would be free to move to another," Telepe countered. "Besides, I doubt that a lone Ayleid, or even a few, could pose much of a threat to one as mighty as you."
"Your flattery is wasted on me, joor," Nahfahlaar sighed. "As I've said, I value raal above all else. You would be surprised how even gein joor, a single mortal, who is determined enough might threaten a dovah. Unlike most of my kin, I do not underestimate your kind. That is the only reason why we tinvaak now," he added pointedly. "I have seen the magicks that these Ayleids wield, and one must respect their skill with sorcery. They are also a vindictive, vengeful people, and I have little doubt that there are many among them that would be eager to slay one who turned on them and display their klov as a trophy. No. Cyrod is not the haven you claim it is."
Telepe grimaced, the gears in his mind turning rapidly as he struggled to find another offer. He was still pondering when a voice by his ear purred, "Perhaps, then, you might choose to settle in a land beyond Cyrod."
The dragon's eyes widened with surprise as they fell on the Khajiit perched on Telepe's shoulder. Ra'karra smugly flicked her tail and winked at him as she jumped off of him and landed lightly in the snow. In truth, since he had been so focused upon Nahfahlaar, Telepe had almost forgotten she was there.
"A land beyond Cyrod?" Nahfahlaar repeated, fixing his golden eyes on Ra'karra, his tail flicking idly behind him. He seemed more amused by Ra'karra's sudden interjection than surprised by it. Perhaps he had known of the Khajiit's true nature all along.
"Yes. It is a land of sun and sands, of seas and jungles, of moons and sugar," Ra'karra replied, taking a seat in front of Nahfahlaar and meeting his level stare with her own. "It is at once dry and harsh, wet and savage. It is also a realm of many lands, many kingdoms, each separate and distinct… yet unlike the warring states of Cyrod, none fight with each other. We exist in balance, in harmony. If you tire of one, you may settle in another without fear of retribution." The Khajiit flicked her ear a wry smile flicking across her lips. "What's more, none of my people are in any danger from these savage north-men. You may find it a better home than this wretched realm."
"Indeed…?" Nahfahlaar asked thoughtfully, his gaze sliding from the pair in front of him. "Perhaps… but why would you offer me a place in your lands?" he added suspiciously.
Ra'karra glanced over her shoulder at Telepe for a brief instant, then turned back around and stretched languidly in the snow. "My people have a long history with your kind," she explained. "We know well that you are dangerous enemies. However, you have said that you have made powerful enemies as well, especially among your own kind, and the time may come when a common enemy may lead to a strange but powerful friendship." She gave Nahfahlaar a sidelong look, then murmured, "Kaalgrontiid knew well how deadly such alliances could be."
Nahfahlaar's yellow eyes widened, then narrowed. "Perhaps we do share common foes," he murmured thoughtfully. "However, I have little desire to escape one enemy, only to contend with another," he growled.
"Understandable," Ra'karra shrugged. "Nevertheless, this one wishes to extend the invitation. If the skies of Cyrod are not vast enough for you, then perhaps the skies above Elsweyr may be more to your liking."
Nahfahlaar growled softly, then looked away, mulling over the offer as Telepe's eyes flitted between the Khajiit and the dragon, utterly confused by their conversation. Ra'karra, however, avoided his gaze and offered no explanation.
"I shall confess that your offers are tempting," Nahfahlaar finally said after a long, tense silence. He turned back to Telepe, pinning him with his bright gaze. "Suppose that I were to accept. What would you ask of me in return?"
"Nothing," Telepe replied simply.
Nahfahalaar tilted his head back and let out a sharp, scornful laugh. "Nothing?!" he cried, his voice dripping with disbelief.
"Nothing," Telepe repeated. "Rather, we would ask you to do nothing." Nahfahlaar's laughter faded, and he stared at Telepe, puzzled, as he explained, "If Falkreath is truly only occupied by a few hundred mer, then our army is more than sufficient to take the city. We have conquered cities with far larger garrisons and far stronger defenses with far less. We simply ask that when we commence our attack, you do not interfere."
"Truly?" Nahfahlaar asked in a doubtful tone.
"Of course, your aid would be appreciated," Telepe admitted. "However, we would not demand it of you. We are not Ayleids. We do not enslave others, especially under the false pretense of friendship. You are not our pet, subject to our beck and call, as these mer seem to believe you are. We simply ask that you neutral in the upcoming battle." A slight smile crossed his face. "We would not wish for you to imperil yourself, after all, knowing how much you value survival."
Nahfahlaar let out a short snort of laughter. "Insolent," he remarked, though his tone was amused. The mirth faded from his voice, however, as he added, "Nevertheless, I must denos… decline."
Telepe frowned deeply, tilting his head. "Is there something unreasonable about that request?" he asked.
"No. It is quite paaz, even generous. It is clearly balanced in my favor," Nahfahlaar replied. "However, I swore to aid these Ayleids if Falkreath is attacked. Words have power, mortal, especially for dov, and oaths are not broken lightly. If you assault Falkreath, I am bound to come to their aid."
Telepe sighed deeply, his stomach sinking with disappointment. Something in the dragon's tone emphasized that he was adamant, and Telepe wouldn't be able to convince him otherwise. If oaths were as important as the dragon suggested….
"If I may? What is the nature of this oath that you swore to the Ayleids?" Telepe asked, an idea creeping into his mind. "Specifically?"
Nahfahlaar seemed surprised by the question, but then he replied, "I swore that if any man or mer dares attack Falkreath, I shall slay them."
Telepe stared down at the snow, stroking his chin. After a few moments, he looked up again and asked, "That is how you swore your oath?"
"It is," Nahfahlaar said firmly, scowling at him. "Why?"
A cunning smirk spread across Telepe's face. "Very well," he said. "Would you allow me to introduce you to someone tomorrow?" he asked.
Nahfahlaar's eyes narrowed once again. "To what end?" he asked suspiciously.
"I believe that we can reach an accord," Telepe replied. "One that shall allow us to take Falkreath and reward you for aiding us, without breaking your oath."
"…Truly?" Nahfahlaar asked skeptically, shifting uncomfortably on the hard stone beneath his talons. "You'll forgive me if I disbelieve you. If so, however, I would be quite impressed. I shall permit you to try."
"Then I shall depart for now, so that I may prepare my companions to meet with you tomorrow," Telepe replied, giving the dragon a wry smile. "After all, we do not wish to mistakenly attack an ally. That would be a tragedy."
Telepe descended the stairs towards the narrow, ice-filled cave, with Ra'karra riding on his shoulders, licking one of her paws furiously to warm it. He watched her out of the corner of his eye until she finished, and then he addressed her. "Thank you for your assistance. In truth, I was uncertain what else I could offer Nahfahlaar to tempt him to our side."
"There is no need to thank this one," Ra'karra replied, flicking her tail dismissively. "My intervention was not solely for your benefit. Khajiit will certainly benefit from a dragon as our ally, should he accept our invitation."
"What… were you discussing with him? Who were you speaking of?" Telepe asked.
"It is ancient history, so do not allow it to concern you," Ra'karra replied evasively. "Hopefully it is a tale now resigned to the realm of myth and legend. However, it is not unwise to prepare, should myths become real once again, no?"
Telepe was uncertain how to respond the Khajiit's cryptic answer, so he simply nodded in agreement. As they approached the icy cavern, he spotted Tari sitting on a flat stone near the entrance, holding his sword loosely in both hands. When they approached, her eyes widened, and she rushed over to meet them.
"You're unharmed!" she exclaimed, half-relieved, half-furious. She cupped Telepe's cheeks, then scowled up at him. "Well done. Now please do not do something so dangerous again."
"I promise nothing," Telepe replied blithely.
Tari glared at him and roughly squeezed his cheeks out of irritation, then released him. "What happened?" she asked anxiously.
Telepe rubbed his face as he briefly told her what had transpired, then mentioned that they should hurry to meet with the others. Tari warily glanced over her shoulder at the clearing where the dragon still lurked, then nodded and motioned for him to lead the way through the cave.
Once they emerged on the other side – thankfully without incident – they saw Arnhelm waiting impatiently for them. He looked up as they approached, and without a word, motioned for them to follow. The sun was already beginning to set when they exited the cave, and by the time they arrived at the camp, it was nearly below the horizon. As they entered the cave, the delectable smell of roasting meat and vegetables washed over them. Telepe, however, ignored the hunger gnawing at his stomach for the moment and hurried to find Edanu, Thornir, and Pelinal.
Thankfully, the trio were dining together, discussing plans for the upcoming siege, so Telepe was spared the need to seek them out individually. When he approached, Edanu greeted him with a smile, Thornir with a nod, and Pelinal with a disappointed glare. "You survived," the knight remarked coldly.
"I'm as pleased as ever to see you as well," he retorted drily.
"Did you speak with the dragon?" Edanu prompted him, motioning for him to take a seat.
"I did," Telepe confirmed, sinking onto a log in front of their small fire. He quickly recounted his meeting with the dragon, while the others listened intently. When he finished, Edanu laced his fingers together and pressed them against his lips.
"So the dragon shall indeed attack us if we attempt to assault Falkreath," Edanu said slowly.
"He shall," Telepe nodded. "However, I believe I have devised a way to free the city and ensure that Nahfahlaar shall not intervene on the side of the Ayleids."
"Go on," Edanu invited him.
Telepe grinned and quickly explained his idea. When he finished, Pelinal let out a disgusted scoff.
"It's devious," Edanu remarked.
"It's despicable!" Pelinal growled, spitting a gob of fat into the fire. "You would rely upon trickery, a mere turn of phrase, to prevent this dragon from assailing us?! Were I him, I would slay you immediately for your audacity!"
"Then it's fortunate for me that you aren't him," Telepe retorted drily. "Admittedly, this does depend upon whether Nahfahlaar holds to the letter or the spirit of his oath, and if it's the latter, he shall not accept our terms. But if so, we are no worse off than we were before we attempted to negotiate with him," he remarked, idly stirring his bowl of stew. When Pelinal continued to glare at him, he suggesed, "If you would prefer, I could attempt to arrange a duel with him."
"Yes!" Pelinal snapped.
"No," Edanu interrupted. Whitestrake turned to glare at him, but the legate held up his hand. "We have invited him to speak with us under the banner of truce. We shall not renege on that now. What's done is done." Pelinal spat into the fire again as Edanu turned to Telepe. "When and where are we set to meet him?"
"Tomorrow at dawn, at the fork in the road down the hill from this cavern," Telepe replied. "I have told him to expect to see our army arrayed for battle, but I have assured him that we shall not attack the city."
"I see," Edanu sighed, setting down his wooden bowl and standing up. "In that case, we should rest while we have the opportunity."
"As you say," Telepe agreed, starting to stand up as well. Pelinal, however, grabbed his arm and yanked him down to his eye level. The knight's bright blue eyes burned with fury as he leaned in close enough that Telepe could smell the remains of his stew on his breath.
"Should this scheme of yours fail, the blood of these men is on your hands, boy," Pelinal hissed.
"Any time I fail my negotiations, their blood is on my hands," Telepe replied coldly. He tried to yank his arm out of Pelinal's grasp, but the knight's hand closed tighter, holding him in place with an iron grip. "And I have enacted plans far more tenuous than this that have succeeded."
"Perhaps. But do not think you can rely upon mere cunning forever," Pelinal warned him. "One day, you shall overestimate yourself. When you do, I look forward to watching you suffer for your hubris." He then shoved him away, sending Telepe stumbling backwards over the log, though he barely managed to keep his balance. "Now begone. I must ready myself for a true battle."
Telepe shot the knight a last glare over his shoulder before stalking over to his furs and bedding down next to Tari, who shot him a curious look, but didn't press him when he shook his head. He slept fitfully, as he kept hearing sinister whispers in the back of his mind, and when he was roused the next morning by one of Edanu's men shaking his shoulder, he almost wished he hadn't tried to sleep at all, and had instead simply stayed up through the night. Even so, he pulled himself reluctantly from his furs, splashed some cold water on his face, and shoved a few handfuls of nuts and berries into his mouth while fastening his leather armor over his tunic, before wearily climbing out of the cave with the rest of the army.
The air seemed especially cold that morning, and a thick fog hung in the air, making it difficult to see more than a few feet ahead. That was fortunate for them, as it would conceal their movements, though Telepe wondered if it would also make meeting Nahfahlaar difficult. Regardless, he climbed onto Emero's back with Tari, then set off as part of the silent column, marching down the road towards Falkreath.
It was a short walk to where they had chosen to meet Nahfahalaar, and most of the army was still being herded into formation when a heavy beating of wings resounded above them. Telepe looked up to see a dark shape descending through the veil of fog, and it landed heavily on a rocky cliff above where the army was standing. Emero reared up and whinnied with fear, as did some of the other nearby horses, though Telepe managed to yank the horse's reins and calm him down before he and Tari were thrown from his back. Many of the men also raised their weapons and began shouting at the dragon's sudden appearance, until their centurions and captains roared for them to fall back into line. Nahfahlaar ignored all of this, instead peering around until he spotted Telepe.
"Joor," Nahfahlaar growled as Telepe jumped off of Emero's back and approached the dragon with his hands behind his back. "I have come as you requested."
"It is good to see you once more, mighty dovah," Telepe replied respectfully, bowing his head. He then motioned to Pelinal. "I mentioned yesterday that I would like to introduce you to someone." Pelinal snarled at Telepe, but reluctantly stepped forward and removed his helmet. "This is Pelinal Whitestrake, the mightiest warrior in our army, and the champion of the rebellion."
Nahfahlaar tilted his head back, sizing up Pelinal, who met the dragon's glare with a defiant look of his own. Telepe felt his heart stop when both beings turned their gaze to him at the same time, and he was honestly uncertain which he feared more. "Did you bring me here to intimidate me?" Nahfahlaar asked drily. "To perhaps challenge me to a duel with your mightiest kendov – warrior?"
Telepe shot Pelinal a sidelong glance, and was unable to resist smirking slightly, while the knight rolled his eyes. He then turned back to Nahfahlaar and replied, "Nothing of the sort. However, there is a quality of Whitestrake here that I feel you should be made aware of."
"And that is?" Nahfahlaar asked impatiently.
"Whitestrake… is an ada," Telepe said simply.
Nahfahlaar gave him a confused look, as though wondering why that mattered. Then, suddenly, his eyes widened, then narrowed with fury. "Is that your ploy?" he growled furiously.
"You swore an oath that you would slay any man or mer who dares attack Falkreath," Telepe recounted, folding his hands behind his back again. "Pelinal is neither. Were he to attack Falkreath, your oath would not require you to engage him, yes?"
Nahfahlaar hissed and opened his wings, towering over Telepe with raw rage burning in his eyes. "You play a dangerous game, mortal," he warned Telepe in a low, dangerous voice. "I have told you that words are especially powerful when a dovah speaks them. Are you suggesting that the oath I have sworn should be dismissed so lightly?"
"No," Telepe replied, his training allowing him to keep his voice steady even as his heart hammered with terror. Behind him, he could hear drawstrings being pulled, but the centurions managed to keep the men from loosing their arrows at the beast before them. "I am simply informing you of who Pelinal is, and suggesting that your oath may not require you to face him. If you feel that this minor distinction is too insignificant, that you must intervene if he attacks the city, then do as you must. It is not as though we can stop you, and I assure you, Whitestrake would relish the challenge," he added with a wry smile. Out of the corner of his head, he saw Pelinal nodding once in agreement. "However, I would ask you not to engage the rest of our army. Only Pelinal shall attack Falkreath today. The rest of us are simply here to observe. And I am certain that you shall not engage those that don't attack Falkreath. After all, it's why you have not pursued the men-of-'kreath living here in the mountains, nor prevented King Vrage from slaying the Ayleids he's found on the roads. Correct?"
Nahfahlaar's eyes widened again, and then he snarled. "How insightful," he hissed. He looked away from Telepe to fix his gaze on Pelinal once again, and then he looked to the rest of the army, who shrunk under his gaze. A low growl rumbled in his throat, and then he turned back to Telepe. "Aside from this one, if any of your army assaults the city, I shall incinerate you all. And you… I shall personally hunt you down and subject you to the slowest, most painful death imaginable. Then I shall slay all who share your bloodline. We dovah have long vakrut – memories – and a long life with which to exact our revenge upon those who have wronged or humiliated us."
"You have my word," Telepe replied sincerely, trying to ignore how that threat chilled him to the bone. He had been promised much the same before, after all, for far less. He then turned to Pelinal, who was watching him with an expression of naked disgust on his face. "The field is yours."
"It always is, even without your permission, mer," Pelinal snapped, his voice dripping with even more venom than usual. Telepe swallowed and glanced away the knight he pulled on his helmet and drew his sword and mace, then turned to advance on Falkreath alone. Meanwhile, the rest of the army began spreading out along the road, half-encircling the city. Nahfahlaar let out a low, warning growl, but Telepe held up his hand to calm him.
"As I've said, we shall not attack the city, even if the Ayleids attack us," Telepe insisted. Nahfahlaar gave him a furious look, then reluctantly folded his wings again.
As the sun rose, a cold breeze stirred, and the fog quickly began to clear. Telepe could at last see the distant guards manning the palisade around Falkreath, and from their startled cries, they too had only just noticed the army encircling them. Their archers immediately drew their bows and began firing at the armored soldiers, but the hoplites simply raised their shields and deflected the arrows, while their centurions ordered them further away from the walls, out of the elves' range. An alarm bell began sounding in the city, and more elves began pouring onto the walls, staring with shock at the army that surrounded them.
One of the Ayleids spotted Nahfahlaar crouched on the rock above Telepe's head, and he pointed and began shouting. Though his voice was faint, Telepe thought he could hear her screaming, "Dragon! Come to our aid! You have sworn to defend us! Now do your duty!"
Nahfahlaar, however, remained perched on the boulder, his bright yellow eyes raking over the rebel army, daring even one of them to retaliate and engage the Ayleids in return. Fortunately, the men's discipline held, and no one advanced on the city… save for one lone figure.
The massive army had drawn the attention of the elves so effectively that none of them had noticed Pelinal approaching their walls. When he at last reached the palisade, he began effortlessly climbing the sheer wooden logs, his mailed hands digging into the wood as if it was as soft as cheese. When a few of the elves finally noticed him, he had already hoisted himself over the walls. Telepe could just barely see him draw his sword and mace again and begin hacking through the Ayleid defenders.
The screams of the Ayleids echoed across the open field, and Pelinal's assault soon drew the attention of the remaining elves on the walls. It was darkly amusing, Telepe thought, that none of the archers were paying any mind to the thousands of men arrayed outside their walls. Pelinal, meanwhile, seemed to shrug off every blade and axe that crashed down on him. His sword pierced two Ayleids at once through their leather armor, and then his mace swung around in a short arc to crush the head of a third. A fourth Ayleid charged at him, but Pelinal shifted the elves impaled on his blade, so that the attacker's spear ran them through, and then he yanked his sword free and decapitated his assailant. Arrows began to fly at him from a distance, but those that struck him in the back bounced harmlessly off the face of his shield, or rolled off of his armor like water. All the while, Pelinal bellowed with bloodthirsty delight, his maniacal laughter echoing through the trees as he massacred the Ayleids.
"How savage," Nahfahlaar murmured quietly. Telepe glanced at the dragon, watching Pelinal's assault in awe. "There is something curious about him. I almost wish to name him dovahkiin, but it seems that something more than the soul of a dovah possesses him. Father…?"
"Dovahkiin?" Telepe asked.
Nahfahlaar didn't tear his eyes from Pelinal's assault, but he answered, "One with the blood of the dov. Though… you claim this being is divine. Could his divinity come from…?"
"A word of caution," Telepe advised. "Do not ask him yourself. I have seen him slay even his own allies in a blind fury for daring to question his origin."
Nahfahlaar glanced at him for a split-second, then nodded and turned his attention back to the battle on the walls. Telepe was slightly surprised by the dragon's silent agreement, but he supposed that if Nahfahlaar's ultimate desire was survival, he had deemed it wise not to antagonize Pelinal. Perhaps he was even relieved that he had chosen not to interfere with the knight's attack on Falkreath.
As Pelinal continued to tear through the defenders while seemingly remaining impervious to the elves' own weapons, some of the Ayleids began throwing themselves from the palisades in a desperate attempt to escape the furious knight. Once they landed on the ground, began sprinting towards the rebel lines, screaming wildly. The hoplites lowered their spears, but none advanced, and Telepe quickly glanced at Nahfahlaar.
"We have sworn not to attack Falkreath… but these Ayleids are no longer in the city, are they?" Telepe pointed out. "We are free to defend ourselves, yes?"
Nahfahlaar let out an incensed growl, but did not deny the request. Edanu, who was standing nearby, took note of this and turned to his men.
"Hoplites! You may defend yourselves against those that attack you, but do not advance on the walls!" he bellowed.
The order was repeated down the line, and as the Ayleids neared the rebel lines, the men began thrusting and jabbing at them. The mer fell quickly under the Nedes' spears, while the Nords acting as skirmishers on either side of their extended lines took it upon themselves to herd the Ayleids back towards the spearmen, if they didn't slay the elves themselves. The battle was swiftly becoming a slaughter, as the tiny elven garrison either fell to Pelinal's relentless attack, or was cut down by the army outside the walls. The entire time, Nahfahlaar remained crouched on his boulder, his massive talons biting into the rock so hard that Telepe feared it might break under the pressure, but he made no move to help the elves. A few spotted him and screamed at him, branding him a traitor and a coward, but still Nahfahlaar remained where he was.
The "battle" was over by midmorning, as the last of the Ayleids protecting Falkreath had either been slain, or attempted to surrender. Pelinal, however, apparently refused their surrender, cutting them down where they stood, much to Telepe's irritation. However, he was in no position to intervene, and he doubted that Pelinal would heed his demands to stand down anyways, particularly since the knight was even more furious with him than usual, so he was forced to tolerate the massacre. When the fighting on the walls began to die down, he turned to Nahfahlaar and nodded.
"Thank you," he said softly. "Now it is my turn to uphold our agreement. I shall send a message to our leader, requesting that she grant you sanctuary wherever you choose in her territory. Since that is ever-expanding with our continuous victories, you may soon have a domain to rival Skyrim in which to settle."
"Shall you demand my services again?" Nahfahlaar growled.
Telepe shook his head. "Our agreement was simply that you remain neutral for one battle, and you held to that agreement. We shall ask nothing more of you. However, if you do wish to offer your aid of your own volition, we would be more than pleased to have you fight beside us."
"Hmph. We shall see," Nahfahlaar snorted, giving him a dangerous look that sent a tremor through his body. "You'll forgive me if I've little faith in one who twists words so easily to suit his needs. It is fortunate that you cannot use the thu'um, for if you could, you would be a terrifying foe indeed." The dragon stared down at him for a long moment. "Remind me. What is your name?"
"I have not given you my name," Telepe admitted with a slight smile, whereupon the dragon snarled at him. Holding up his hand in a placating gesture, he replied, "I am called Telepe. It means 'silver-speak' in Ayleidoon."
The dragon tilted his head thoughtfully. "Tey-Lo-Pah," he murmured, slightly mispronouncing the name. "A strange coincidence that it is also a dovahzin that describes you well."
"Indeed? What does it mean?" Telepe asked.
"Tale-Deceive-All," Nahfahlaar growled. "A fitting name for a trickster such as yourself.
"Oh? Should I take that as a compliment?" Telepe grinned.
"Should you?" Nahfahlaar retorted. Telepe's smile faded as the dragon spread his wings and took off to find a perch on higher ground, leaving him standing alone, watching the slaughter of the Ayleids silently as he uneasily pondered Nahfahlaar's response.
A/N: For those wondering, no, Nahfahlaar did not honor Telepe with a dragon name. He was simply commenting on the coincidental similarities between the two names, and how they're both rather fitting for him. Also, for those hoping for a full demonstration of a dragon's might, rest assured that this isn't the last we'll see of Nahfahlaar.