AN: Hello dear readers, I caught this little plot bunny and it wouldn't let me go. It stared out as a simple dragonborn-goes-to-Alagaësia. This dragonborn is of the kind to do every quest and mission, even the darkest ones and has a very queer view of what is normal or moral. Also, he's totally overpowered, as our hero tends to be in endgame. Then suddenly him and Murtagh hit it off and when I reached 20k words I thought, what the heck, let's post this. It's just a fun piece of humor writing, so don't take it too seriously. I'll post a M-rated version of this fanifc under the same name on AO3, for those of you old and dirty enough to enjoy all the details. ;-)
Summary:
For the Dragonborn, it's just another quest he's sent on when Akatosh asks him to go liberate Alagaësia and protect the local dragons. For Odahviing, it means babysitting the dragon slayer and making sure he doesn't make any more deals with Daedric Princes and thus taint his soul any further. For Eragon, meeting the duo means hope and gaining powerful allies in the fight against Galbatorix. Saphira is looking at Odahviing and wondering what their eggs would look like. Brom is worrying that this supposed dragon god might've sent them a monster worse than Galbatorix.
And Murtagh gets to live out his suppressed sexuality in what is either a very healthy or very toxic relationship. He's not quite sure which one but he finds riding an undead horse and setting people on fire with his sword feels quite therapeutic.
WARNING: In this fanfic, two of the main protagonists are in a homosexual relationship. It's not explicit (in this version) but it's still obvious what they're doing. I can't believe I have to say this in the 21st century but if you are uncomfortable with that, please do not read any further. There's no reason to leave hate comments.
Odahviing had talked to Akatosh, the god of dragonkind, exactly four times. Once was as a hatchling, when he saw the light of the sky for the first time. He belonged to the first 50 dragons who had been created by the god himself, at the beginning of time, when Nirn was still young. His generation was called the First, the Children of the Sun, the Legendary. All other dragons came from their offspring, the Ancient, the Elder, the Young Ones, they all respected and feared them.
The second time Odahviing had spoken to Akatosh, Father-of-his-heart, had been at the very start of the First Dragon War, when he addressed all dragonkind and urged them to leave mortalkind be, to follow Alduin no longer. He'd ignored the words of warning then, as had so many others, to blinded by the promises of power and riches their own godking made. What had Akatosh ever done, aside from creating them? He made them the most powerful but then told them to share – what kind of sense did that make? As one of the Divines, Akatosh was bound to his own realm, limited in his influence on Nirn by the rules of the truce they kept with the Daedra. Alduin was bound by no such rules. He was so very real, so very powerful and so much more an immediate threat to all who opposed him.
The third time Odahviing spoke to Akatosh was shortly after his resurrection. Alduin had been busy reviving his armies all over the land and barely stayed long enough to give Odahviing his commands, so eager to pick up exactly where he'd left off. Alduin had been banished, thrown forward in time ages ago. He did not remember the horrors of the war once they started to actually loose it. He did not remember the burials, howling of grief, the smashed eggs – the end of their reign. War, war, war, that was all he could think of. Never did the thought cross his mind that Odahviing might be tired, that maybe he wanted to enjoy his new chance at life, to fly over a sky not marred with smoke.
But Odahviing had already died and he only lived again thanks to Alduin. So he did as he was told, obeying his god king. And when Akatosh spoke to him, urged him once more to abandon the path of war, this time he had listened. Akatosh warned him that the end was near, that he'd send the Laat Dovahkiin, the last dragonborn to defeat Alduin once and for all. This was the time to choose, the final chance, or his soul would be forever lost.
And Odahviing had pondered those words and considered them. He was tired of war. His soul still craved power, still craved gold and slaves and worshippers, all that he'd had before. But he also remembered his own death quite vividly, remembered the cold, the quiet, the eternal boredom.
He'd slept so long and now that he was awake once more, he didn't want to waste his waking hours on nightmares.
So when the Dovahkiin had called his name he'd gone to see for himself his rumored power. The ease with which he'd been defeated, trapped, humiliated, still rankled him like nothing else. He'd been forced to bow his head, bare his neck, offer his back to the human as if he was a common horse, just to keep his life. The Dovahkiin had been arrogant and cocky, like any young hatchling and yet Odahviing was powerless against him. His Thu'um was just too powerful. He knew the words of the ancient Nord who'd taught the dovah about mortality, the cursed words they had gone to so much trouble to eradicate. He knew the words of enslavement that had plagued dragonkind at the beginning of time, when the Diist Dovahkiin, the first of their kind, walked Nirn, before the daedra enslaved him in return. Odahviing had no idea how he had found out those words even existed but the mere knowledge that there was a slayer who knew both of those shouts made his skin crawl. If it weren't for the fact that an enslaved dragon's mind was thrown into such disarray that he could barely form any coherent thought, couldn't do anything beyond following a few very basic commands of their enslaver, he was sure that the Laat Dovahkiin would've used him like that too. Alas, he needed him of sound mind in order to carry him to Skuldafn as he did not yet know the way himself.
When the news of Alduin's death reached him, Odahviing hadn't know what to think, what to feel. The Laat Dovahkiin continued his horrifying killing spree unabated, killing two, sometimes three dragons almost every week and Odahviing feared that in no time at all, his kind would be entirely eradicated once more. And so when his name was called, his servitude demanded, he obeyed. To do anything else would mean death, he was sure.
He'd even lowered himself to actually pleading with the Slayer, to ask him to spare his kin. All he would have to do was to officially declare himself Alduin's successor, the new god king of dragonkind, and all but the daftest of them would bow down and follow him. At that point it was mainly confusion and fear that made the dragons lash out at mortals. There was no more organized raiding. No dragon dared try to build themselves a cult, too busy hiding in their mountains. But the Slayer refused to be likened to Alduin. He told him to send any dragons willing to make peace with mortalkind to Paarthurnax instead, the age old traitor, hated by their entire race. Some of the younger, more cowardly took to the way of the voice. Most of them did not and ended up dead instead or as the Dovahkiin's playthings.
Odahviing had nearly lost all hope when Akatosh had spoken to him again. Even the god hat noticed how out of control his youngest child had become. How closely he resembled Alduin himself in his youth, killing indiscriminately, making deals with daedra, amassing his own followers who worshipped the ground he walked on and hoarding mountains of gold, paid for with the price of blood and robbed from the old tombs.
Odahviing was one of a very small number of dragons whose name the Laat Dovahkiin had bothered to learn, one he had promised to not outright kill in exchange for them following their orders. They were not friends. They were not companions. They were not battle brothers. But they were not enemies either and that was apparently good enough for Akatosh.
The god had decided to send his champion on a new mission, into a new world, to battle yet another mortal with delusions of grandeur. The Dovahkiin had already removed several of his kind in Skyrim alone but this mission was supposed to be different. It was to be a chance for the Slayer to redeem his soul from the taint his actions had left on it. Akatosh had tasked Odahviing with helping him on this mission. Not when it came to any actual battle – the Slayer was so damn powerful already he hardly needed help with anything of that sort anymore – but to advise him, to keep him in line and guide him on the correct path to properly finish the mission in a way befitting of a divine champion.
That meant no contracting of daedric curses, no drinking human blood or eating human flesh, no backstabbing of his sworn allies, no contract-killing of innocent civilians and no robbing people so poor they literally lived in the sewers, please.
Akatosh's words, not Odahviing's.
He might have to revise his initial opinion – the Laat Dovahkiin was possibly even worse than Alduin. And now it fell to him to play his nest-mother. Oh joy.
All of that brought them to this point, Odahviing crouching near a terrible wound in time at the Throat of the World, the Laat Dovahkiin as usual outfitted in his terribly offensive armor made of the scales of his kin, a massive dragonbone battleaxe and bow crossed on his back, glowing with enchantments fueled by the souls of his enemies. He was a monster. And Odahviing was supposed to tell him what to do.
Paarthurnax had just finished explaining which part of which Elder Scroll the Slayer had to read (how in Oblivion had he managed to get three of those incredibly powerful divine artifacts!?). Odahviing was shooting the other Legendary dragon a hateful glare. He didn't even bother to hide it from the Slayer. He was pretty sure the human had never learned how to interpret draconic facial expression. That or he just didn't care that Odahviing was constantly grimacing behind his back.
"Alright then! Off we go, the next adventure awaits", the Slayer declared far too cheerfully for someone who was essentially being banished from his home world for irritating his patron god.
"Remember, Dovahkiin: You are to leave the lead to Odahviing on this mission", Paarthurnax warned him. "Your soul depends on it."
The Slayer rolled his eyes in an obvious show of dismissal. "Yes I know, mother. I said I'd be good, didn't I? I'm sure Viing and I will have lot's of fun."
Odahviing groaned in shame and suppressed the urge to stick his head in a snow drift and just scream. The Slayer had no understanding of diplomacy and common manners at all. Paarthurnax may be a traitor and an exile but he was still a Legendary dragon, second to only Alduin in power. And the Slayer mocked him as if his very valid concerns were the nagging of a nest-mother. And to top it, he even called Odahviing by that humiliating nickname. Every dragon name consisted of three words of power. The first was given to them by their nest-mother, the second they earned in their first battle and the third was found after years of meditation. To call a dragon by only one of their words, worst yet the very first one, was akin to calling them a hatchling. Nobody had dared call Odahviing just Viing ever since he'd first bloodied his claws thousands of years ago.
"Please don't call me that", he ground out in helpless anger and frustration, for what he was sure was the dozens' time. He had to remain polite. He had to be an example, treat that stupid little mortal like the hatchling he was. A hatchling with the power of a god. Urgh.
"Yeah, yeah", the Slayer made dismissivly. He pulled out the Elder Scroll without any warning and Odahviing hurriedly closed his eyes lest he catch a glimpse of the words. He could feel the wave of power washing over him. Instinctively he buried his claws into the ground to hold on. Words of power, more powerful than any Thu'um fell from the Dovahkiin's mouth and each word shook the fabric of reality.
Suddenly the floor was no more under Odahviing's claws. It fell away, just like that. The wind tugged at his scales and it took the old dragon a few precious moments to realize he was falling. Instinctively he spread his wings, catching a breeze and turned his fall into a soft gliding. He blinked and could make out the tiny figure of the mortal shooting towards the ground, a shout of joy and excitement on his lips.
Scowling at the obvious crazy, Odahviing headed down. He wondered if Akatosh would think it offense if he send a prayer up for the Slayer to hit the ground and be turned into a red smear.
Probably.
The Dovahkiin caught himself at the last second, shifting his mortal form just slightly to the left of reality. His now translucent body hit the ground without any injury whatsoever. He was still laughing a few minutes later when Odahviing landed next to him, having made a few turns over the slightly forested landscape and the nearby hills.
"Ah, that was fun! We have to do that again sometime", the Slayer said, patting Odahviing on his tight as if he'd had any part in his stupidity.
"I have no plans to travel the mulitiverse more than necessary", Odahviing declined as politely as possible.
"Spoilsport", the mortal scoffed. "Alright, I say we fly around a bit until we see a town. There's no better source for rumors than innkeepers and-"
"If I may", Odahviing cut in, feeling a headache building already just imagining the Slayer in a tavern. He didn't give much for rumors but even he had heard the tale of the Laat Dovahkiin's drinking contest with the Daedric Prince of Debauchery.
"Our divine mission demands we aid the local dragons against a heretic usurper. Rumors spread by mortals will not help us – we need to seek other dragons."
"Alright…. Then we go and look for the next mountain range, see if we spot one", the Slayer said.
Odahviing rolled his eyes. "These lands have been under the usurper's tyranny for decades. Any dragons left remaining will be hiding. They are not at the liberty to build their nests whether they like."
"Right, then what do you suggest, oh great leader?" the Dovahkiin asked sarcastically.
"You must deliver a challenge", Odahviing replied with all the patience of his thousands of years. He wondered how much Akatosh had even told the Dovahkiin about this new world, if he'd just not listened or if all the explaining was being left to him.
"The usurper is not Dovahkiin but the order he betrayed held Akatosh's blessing for many centuries. Your name and title will be unfamiliar to him but he will recognize the name of the god he has slighted. Call out Akatosh's name. If the usurper hears it and is no coward, he will meet you in battle. If any of the dragons in hiding hear it, they will understand it as a call for unification. They will come to test your strength and if you pass, they will flock to you."
"So… Akatosh's name is a dragon shout?" the Slayer clarified.
Oh, what had he done to deserve this.
"Yes", he ground out, "it is." Obviously! How in Oblivion could the Dovahkiin not know that!?
"A KA TOSH!"
The sky shook from the power of the Thu'um and even as prepared as Odahviing had been for it, the pressure still weighted on him for a moment.
Eventually the feeling ebbed away and silence fell onto them again.
"… nothing happened", the Slayer complained.
"Your Thu'um has been heard loud and clear. Now we will wait and see who will follow it", he replied.
"Ugh, fine. I can wait a bit I suppose", the Slayer muttered. He plopped down on the ground unceremoniously and took on a meditation pose.
And that's how he stayed, totally unmoving, silent, for exactly 6 hours.
Odahviing didn't stick around, of course. He took to the air, scouting the nearby land. He flew over a town not too far off but made sure to stay far out of reach of any arrows. If anyone even looked up, they might've mistaken him for a bird.
Occasionally he returned to look after the Dovahkiin, only to find him in the exact same pose.
As evening came he hunted himself deer. He curled up next to the meditating Slayer, enjoying his meal, when the Slayer stirred suddenly.
He raised his head, turned to look at the red dragon and asked.
"Still nothing?"
"Not yet", he replied.
"Oh, okay."
And the slayer went back to his meditation and fell silent again.
Odahviing understood well now why he had been selected as leader on this mission and not the Dovahkiin, despite his surprising ability to earn himself the loyalty of his fellow mortals.
The Slayer was a terrible leader. He didn't bother talk to Odahviing, make plans, ask after his well-being or wishes. He wasn't interested in learning more about this world, their mission or what else Akatosh might've told Odahviing. He was… really just a blunt weapon, pointed at a target.
It wasn't as if Odahviing wanted someone to talk to. He'd been on his own longer than he could remember. The dwarves would sooner return to the surface than that Odahviing would open up to the Slayer. But that didn't change the fact that the Laat Dovahkiin was the only one powerful enough to claim the dragon throne and thereby unifying the dragons of Tamriel and have them make peace with the mortals. A peace in which neither side had to be obliterated. As much as he despised the Slayer – he was the only hope of his kind. He'd been sent to them as punishment from the gods but he was also their only chance at redemption. Everything hinged on Odahviing's mission. Only if he could gain actual respect for himself and his kind from the Slayer and only if he could guide him back on a path of righteousness would either of them be allowed back to Nirn. Only then would there be hope for the dragons of Tamriel.
The Slayer kept meditating the whole night through. Odahviing could smell humans approach at some point during the night but he ignored them and they didn't come close enough to bother them. In the early morning the Slayer stood as abruptly as ever.
"I'm sick of waiting. Obviously nobody is coming."
"Your Thu'um was heard far and wide", Odahviing assured him again. "Yet no dragons might be nearby. It will take them a while to come and when they do and not find us here, they will think us cowards."
I'll kill anyone who calls me a coward", the Dovahkiin said with a scoff. "Sitting around here is boring. We can at least explore the surrounding area."
Odahviing decided not to tell him that he'd already done so.
"Very well. We must stay together though. I will let you take to the sky with me."
For any other human this would be an offer beyond generous but the Slayer accepted it with such a dismissive attitude, Odahviing seriously considered dropping him once they were high enough. It probably wouldn't kill him but hey, he could dream.
Odahviing started to fly circles around their initial entrance point to this world. He took care to memorize the landscape. The vicious ripping of the fabric of realty would leave a scar in the sky above this little hill they rested at, similar to the time wound at the Throat of the World. It was here they'd have to fly up to and reopen the portal back home by reading the Elder Scroll once more once their mission as done.
His circles became wider and wider. He passed over the nearby town again and rebuked the Slayer's childish demands that they land there.
"Hey, who between us has done this before, hm?" the Dovahkiin demanded to know. "I'm telling you, if there's a Dark Lord up and about, people are gonna talk about it and they're gonna talk in taverns!"
Odahviing sighed.
"Tell me, Dovahkiin. How have you first learned about Alduin?"
"He attacked the town that I was… passing through."
"And how did you first learn about the Disst Dovahkiin?"
"You mean Miraak? His cultists came to kill me."
Odahviing nodded sagely. "And what about the undead threat?"
The Slayer ground his teeth, seemingly starting to understand what he was getting at.
"Vampires were attacking townspeople and a recruiter of the Dawnguard requested my help when he saw me slay them", he admitted.
"There you have it. Creatures of pride will not plot in secret and have their deeds whispered about by drunken people. They will challenge you, openly, obviously, and dare you to come to them. The desperate will plead for your help if only you state your willingness to aid them loud enough. You are the Laat Dovahkiin. You have no need to be subtle." In fact, him being so sneaky and befriending the shadows was what had gotten him in trouble with the gods in the first place. Odahviing couldn't understand it. He had so much power, so many blessings, why would he not take his rightful place and use that power to actually build something greater? Why must the only mark he left on Nirn be that of destruction?
"Fine, but even if we don't leave the general area, we can still make a name for ourselves. I'll just head into town and look around. There's always someone who needs a heirloom to be retrieved from a draugr infested cave, or a family member to be rescued from falmer or-"
"Oh look, a dovah", Odahviing interrupted his ridiculous list of tasks far below his status.
The Slayer turned his head and indeed, in the distance the distinct shape of dragon wings could be seen. The mortal glared at him.
"Don't say it", he warned.
Odahviing opened his snout.
"Don't-!"
"I told you so", he said it.
"Argh! Curse you!", the slaver made childishly. "Fine! Let's meet this dragon. I need a new set of arrows anyway."
Odahviing shuddered at the offhand reminder of casual dragon slaying. He closed his eyes and took a few seconds to mourn whatever descendants of his might've been processed into arrow heads, of all things.
He really hated this mission.
"You will not attack this dragon. We are here to help them", he reminded him.
"I will not attack… unless we're attacked first", the Slayer agreed reluctantly. But that was not enough.
"No, you will not attack, period. Your very nature is ridiculously offensive to my kind. It is almost certain that they will attack us, even if it's only as a show of strength. You must not retaliate."
"What, you expect me to just sit there and let them kill me?" the Dovahkiin asked incredulously. Oh, he would love to see that.
"Don't be ridiculous. You know perfectly well that it would take a dragon of immense power to even just scratch your armor. However, I have seen you kill young dragons with a single strike. That must not happen this time. You leave the talking and the fighting to me, do you understand?"
"Ugh, fiiiine…"
Mentally cursing the whining hatchling on his back and feeling more and more like a nest-mother, Odahviing headed towards the approaching dragon.
As he got closer he could discern that it was in fact a small dragoness. She must be young, very young, just barely no hatchling anymore but not yet old enough to wield more than tge most basic of the Thu'um. He could smell the fire in her veins but she lacked the smoke.
"Oh, look, how shiny! I've never seen a blue dragon. It would make a fabulous pair of gauntlets for one of my housecarls", the Slayer said. Before Odahviing could ask him to please not consider the murder of hatchlings right in front of him, he continued: "Wait, is that a human on its back?"
Indeed it seemed to be. The dragoness was wearing some kind of leather contraption that almost looked like – sweet Oblivion, a saddle! Could she be a dragon enslaved by the usurper? Forced into such a degrading role from a young age?
The duo was now close enough to make out details. The dragoness was hovering, flapping her wings to stay at one place and turning her head this way and that. The rider on her back was slumped over as if in pain.
Odahviing positioned himself, flapping his wings so he too was hovering at one spot. Then, he prepared the traditional greeting. Obviously he was the older one so he would speak first. And well, if it burned that slaver off her back, she could thank him later.
"YOL!"
He only shouted that first word. A small plume of fire grazed the young dragoness' head. Instead of replying in kind though, the dragoness gave an incoherent shriek. She did a salto, aiming her spiked tail at his chest and then dropped to the ground like a stone.
Her tail spikes were still dull, as typical for one so young so she barely even scratched him but it left Odahviing befuddled and confused behind. This gave the dragoness a head start as she spread her wings to catch herself and then flew away as fast as she could.
"Can we kill it now?", the Slayer asked in a slightly amused voice.
"No we can't! I don't know why she reacted like that. I just greeted her", he replied with a huff and started to go after her.
"You know, the first time Paarthurnax greeted me like that, I almost poked his eye out with my sword. Maybe it's not used to it", the mortal wondered.
"That's ridiculous. She is dovah!"
The mortal shrugged. "Just saying."
"Stop your shameful flight!", Odahviing called out towards the dragoness, who was trying to evade him with zigzag turns.
"You know, I could…" the Slayer offered slowly.
"What?" he snapped at him.
"Well, if you want her to stop, I'll help you with it."
Odahviing's thoughts screeched to a halt. He couldn't seriously consider….?
"Wait, no! NO!", he shouted but it was already too late.
"JOOR ZAH FRUL!"
The dragoness gave the most heart-wrenching, animalistic screech as the power of the cursed Thu'um washed over her in all its dark blue grotesqueness. She spun downwards like a butterfly with a ripped wing, carried this way and that by the wind until she crashed to the ground over a nearby forest, taking several trees with her and probably breaking a bone or two in the process as well.
"What have you done?!" Odahviing shouted angrily.
"She was fleeing!" the Slayer answered as if that excused anything.
"I told you not to attack, no matter what!"
"I didn't attack her, she's fine. But now she's on the ground. That's what you wanted, isn't it?"
Oh, for the love of…! Argh! He didn't even have words!
Odahviing landed near enough the dragoness to see for himself that she was not badly hurt but far enough away to not be seen as if he was about to attack her head on. And then he just… He just couldn't hold it any longer. His neck stuck out, jaws closing around that hateful mortal. He didn't bite down, not eager to chip a tooth on the many-times reinforced armor, instead he lifted him up and spit him out in front of him so that he was sliding forward toward the dragoness, as if Odahviing really was a nest-mother offering food to her young.
The dragoness was covering before him. She had nowhere to run. Her size was too great to fit between the trees and her wings were still bound to the earth. She regarded Odahviing with confusion and obvious fear. Her rider seemed to be still out for it, though sadly only slightly singed but regaining consciousness.
"What the fuck is your problem?!" the Dovahkiin snarled as he jumped back to his feet.
"You can't use Dragon Rend on a dragon you aim to make your ally!" Odahviing shouted, furious.
"Can't I?" the Slayer returned with a smirk that said it all. Odahviing himself had felt the power of that Thu'um once and it still made his scales crawl to this day.
"NO, you CAN'T!" he insisted. "It will severely lower any amount of goodwill they might be willing to give you! That shout is meant to impress the concept of mortality unto our immortal souls! It is anathema to us!"
The Slayer scoffed. "I'm mortal every day, why shouldn't dragons get to feel what that's like once in a while?"
The fury in his belly build to such an unimaginable level.
"YOL TOOR SHUL!"
He bathed the Dovahkiin in his fire, a stream of it engulfing him completely where he stood. Before he had even completed the last word though, the Slayer answered in kind:
"FO KRAH DIIN!"
A stream of frost met a stream of fire and both met in an explosion of steam that obscured their surroundings and charged up the nearby atmosphere.
Now Odahviing knew perfectly well that the Slayer's armor protected him against all kinds of magic, even some common dragon shouts. His own scales unfortunately weren't as reinforced. Plus, as a fire dragon he was naturally less protected against frost than an answering flame. Thus, the short shouting match left the Dovahkiin entirely unharmed while Odahviing was now shivering, limps stiff and slow as cold crawled into every crevice and frostbite formed at his tail. There wasn't any serious injury, his fire having blocked most of the attack but it still established quite clearly, once again, the dominance between them.
"Feeling better now!?", the Dovahkiin asked, twin swords raised before him just in case the answer was 'no'.
Odahviing shook his head to clear it but spoke quickly just in case that would be misinterpreted.
"I apologize. That was uncalled for."
He wanted to kill him so bad. So bad!
"Please", the heard a quiet, weak voice call out then. Dragon and dragonborn looked to see the rider try to climb off the dragoness' back while she tried to hinder him using her wings.
"Please, what have you done to Saphira? Please make it stop! She's suffering so much!"
"Hey, I didn't even graze her!" the Slayer protested.
"Fool, you seared the curse of death into her soul! Her heart is aching", Odahviing said accusingly.
"What? But I didn't-"
"Can you make it stop? Please!" The rider begged, finally managing to escape the rather protective and still mute dragoness to come towards them.
"Well?" Odahviing huffed, turning to the Dovahkiin. "Can you?"
"I… But… It only lasts a few minutes anyway!" he said. Incredulously, he turned toward Odahviing. "It can't be that bad!?"
"It's a weapon created by generations of hatred to slay the World-Eater! Of course it's bad!" Odahviing shouted back, despite doing his utmost to hold back. "That dragoness is barely out of her egg! It's a hatchling. A CHILD! And you used Dragon Rend on her! Shame on you!" He wacked the Slayer over the head with a wing. By Oblivion, he really was turning into a nest-mother, wasn't he?
Fortunately for him, even the Slayer seemed to realize that he deserved that whack for he didn't retaliate.
"I'm sorry", he mumbled and half-heartedly shot a restoration spell at both dragoness and rider. It didn't undo the Dragon Rend of course but it healed whatever injuries they might've gotten from the fall. True to his world, a few seconds later the Rend faded all on its own.
"Never do that again unless I explicitly allow it", Odahviing growled.
"Ugh, fine. So long as you admit that your plan was stupid. She obviously didn't come here in answer to my challenge", he argued.
"No but she obviously needs protection. We can't allow a dragon this young to fall into the usurper's hands." Odahviing shook his head in disgust. He disregarded the rider. Pleading for the young one like that, he probably wasn't a slaver but he wasn't dovahkiin either and those were the only bipeds worth talking to anyway. So instead, he took a few, slow steps towards the dragoness. She was no longer trembling quite as badly but she was still quite obviously afraid, shifting her body this way and that to get into a good position to lift off, if necessary.
"Peace, sister. I am Odahviing, ambassador of Akatosh, the god of dragons. With me is the Laat Dovahkiin, mightiest of warriors and an insufferable man-child."
"Hey!"
"I did not meant to scare you with my Yol, my fire. I merely wished to greet you. We have been send to aid you and your fellow dragons against the usurper, the one they call Galbatorix. I know this foul attack of the Dovahkiin is inexcusable. However, I promise I'll make him repay you. I wish to keep further harm from you. If there is any enemy you long to crush beneath your claws, say the word and we will destroy them for you."
"Oh, that's so sweet of you, Viing", the Slayer mocked and Odahviing whacked him over the head with his tail for it. The mortal cursed and slapped the tail away, the hit from his armored gauntlet leaving behind a sting. Stupid overpowered human.
The dragoness kept glancing between the rider, the Slayer and Odahviing.
Then, Odahviing felt a very faint push against his mind. Curious, he opened his mind a little bit to let her in and heard her voice in his head.
"My name is Saphira. I don't know what kind of magic that was… but please never do that again. It felt horrible."
"I know, young one. I will see to it that it doesn't happen again", he soothed her. This dragoness must still be out of her mind with fear. She might not be old enough to wield the Thu'um but she was certainly old enough to speak Dovahzul. If she was using her mind's voice to talk to him instead, something that ordinarily only hatchlings used to communicate with their nest-mother, the experience must've truly traumatized her.
Also, what kind of name was Saphira? It was possible that she had not yet bloodied her claws but she should've at least gotten her first word from her nest-mother.
"If you truly wish to aid us", Saphira spoke, "then you can help us against the Ra'zac. Those foul creatures have been causing us trouble for a long time."
"My wish is your command", Odahviing promised. It was the least he could do for the poor thing.
"But… She didn't say anything", the Slayer complained.
"Shh. She used her mind's voice", he whispered back, not wanting to make her more uncomfortable for using a hatchling's language.
"Wait, like, telepathy?" the Dovahkiin asked surprised.
"Yes, now shut up!" he hissed, then glanced back at the dragoness to make sure she was okay. The poor thing must be so embarrassed.
"Can you tell me where your parents are, young one?" he asked her.
Saphira didn't answer and evaded his gaze.
The human rider stepped next to her, putting a hand on her flank.
"Her parents are dead", he replied for her. "I found her egg in the forests of the Spine and it hatched for me. I am her dragon rider, the only family she has now. My name is Eragon."
Odahviing bristled at the mention of that word. However, he then remembered Akatosh's words. He'd told him that this world had an order made out of dragons and mortals, always two partnered together. Could that be what he was talking about?
"Show me your palm", he demanded. Eragon hesitated, exchanging a glance with Saphira before pulling off a leather glove. There was a brightly glowing silver mark on his palm.
Odahviing nodded. "The mark of Akatosh. You belong to his blessed order."
"I… I'm afraid I don't know what you mean. I've never heard the name Akatosh before."
Odahviing reared his head, shocked and angry. "Never heard the name before! He is the creator of time, the father of all dragons! How can you not have heard of him before?"
Eragon held up his hands defensively. "I'm sorry! I'm… kinda new to this. A few months ago I was just a farm boy."
"A farm boy… chosen for Akatosh's blessed order!" Odahviing spat, disgusted.
Saphira gave an angry roar and stepped forward, hackles raised.
"Hey, we all start small. I started out as just another illegal immigrant", the Dovahkiin said with a shrug. "Had nothing to my name but the rags I wore."
Odahviing wanted to whack him again for even daring to compare himself to such a lowly mortal. Within days of his appearance, the Laat Dovahkiin had not only survived an attack by Alduin but also bloodied his claws with dragon blood and learned how to shout. He was a legendary being, a demi-god and the only one suitable to rule dragonkind. Only with this attitude, he'd have to deal with rebellions for centuries before anyone took him serious. And of course he would put down any and all rebellions the bloody way. That meant yet more of Odahviing's kin dying.
The great red dragon closed his eyes and slowly counted to five.
"That is not the same", he growled out. "Only the bravest of warriors should be allowed in his order, to bring glory to – are you even listening to me!?"
"Shh!", the Slayer made, evidently not listening as he drew the dragonbone bow on his back and nocked an arrow.
"There's a rat sneaking around in the underbrush…." He narrowed his eyes, aiming.
"Wait!", Eragon called out. "Please, that might be Brom – my mentor. He was following us."
The Dovahkiin scowled and didn't lower his bow.
"Hey, you there! Come out with your hands raised."
A bit of rustling and a few moments later, an older male human entered the clearing with his hands raised, regarding dragon and dragonborn with a very high amount of suspicion.
"Are you a Brom?" the Dovahkiin asked.
"Yes, that's him. Please don't shot", Eragon answered for him even as the old man nodded.
"Tsk", the Dovahkiin made and lowered his bow, attaching it to his back again. He was obviously disappointed. "Will I get to kill anything today?"
"You could've gone hunting with me yesterday", Odahviing reminded him.
"Whatever for?", he scoffed.
The dragon rolled his eyes. Dragons, unless they were still very much in their growing phase like that small blue one, didn't need all that much food. They could go months without it and not feel hungry, even decades if they went into hibernation. The Dovahkiin may look human but his soul was that of a dragon and that had an effect on his body as well. He didn't need food nearly as often and as regularly as other humans did but he still got hungry – hungry for blood. Only the thirst for the hunt was not appeased with mere animals for him. Truly, he was like a hatchling, always wanting more, more, more, even when his body didn't need it.
"Quenching your hunger on the wildlife teaches you the patience to deal with more talkative prey", he lectured the Slayer.
"Did he just call us prey?" Brom asked Eragon with narrowed eyes.
"I don't think he has a very high opinion of humans. He was nice enough to Saphira though", Eragon whispered back.
"Oh, Odahviing has a nice enough opinion on humans", the Dovahkiin told them, grinning. "I think you compared them to, what was it again, a warthog once?"
Bears, he'd compared them to bears, actually. As in, they tasted a bit like bears. But it probably wouldn't be helpful to point that out now.
"Will you be silent, for once in your life?" he growled.
"Odahviing said that he and, uhm, Laat… Dovkiin? They are followers of a god named Akatosh, a dragon god, and that me being a rider means I have his blessing so they offered to help us against the Ra'zac", Eragon summarized. Odahviing was actually surprised that he stumbled only slightly over the Dovahzul words.
Brom looked surprised at this. "Then it was you who shouted that name so loud they probably heard you in the capital?", he asked Odahviing.
"Actually", the Dovahkiin raised his hand, "that was me." When Brom turned to him with a glare, he quickly added. "But it was his idea", pointing to Odahviing.
"Well it was a bloody stupid idea. Legend has it that the first dragons who bound themselves to the first riders were followers of a religion based around a dragon god named Akatosh. But that religion died centuries ago with the last wild dragons. I don't know where the two of you came from or how you managed to evade Galbatorix for this long but shouting out that name like this is like publically giving him the middle finger and challenging him to come and kill you."
"Well yeah, that was the idea", the Dovahkiin returned with a shrug. When that earned him another glare, he pointed to Odahviing again. "His idea!"
Odahviing bristled. "Well it worked, didn't it!? Akatosh has send us to this world. If he wanted us to go and kill Galbatorix right away, the portal would've dropped us near him and we would have started our mission with a glorious battle. If he wanted us to prioritize protecting the local dragons instead, he would drop us near a dragon in need." He used his wing to point in Saphira's direction. "A dragon in need appeared so our mission is clear."
"And he couldn't have just told us what to do?" the Dovahkiin asked with a scoff. "A simple: Go there, talk to the blue dragon, escort her to a safe place, then go to that other place, kill that guy. Is that so bloody hard?"
Odahviing shook himself at the amount of disrespect rolling off the Slayer. "You do not understand the nature of the divine at all!"
"Oh, but you do?"
Eragon leaned over to Brom and whispered: "Yes, they've been like that the whole time."
"Of course I do! I've known the gods for a couple of thousand years longer than you have!", Odahviing answered loudly, spreading his wings in an aggressive show of dominance. "I am a Legendary Dragon! You are but an infant."
"Well what does it say about this infant if it's managed to slay your tyrant king?" the Slayer returned obnoxiously.
"It means god was very desperate to push so much power into such a baby!" It was meant to be especially derogatory. When Odahviing referred to the Dovahkiin as a hatchling, which he did quite often even if not to his face, it was with a certain amount of (almost) fond exasperation that only adults who had fathered offspring of their own could comprehend. To refer to him as a human of the same relative age though was definitely an insult and it seemed that even as dense as he was, the Slayer understood that.
The Dovahkiin already had his hand on the pommel of his sword.
"I am not that bloody young – if anything you are a relic of times past!"
"You are FOUR bloody years old!" Odahviing replied, uncomprehending. He wasn't old – how ridiculous! Dragons were immortal, they didn't get old, they only got more powerful!
"I'm in my mid-twenties, thank you very much!" the Dovahkiin returned.
Both Brom and Eragon watched their back and forth with slightly befuddled looks.
"No you are NOT!" Odahviing roared, not believing so much stupidity. "Akatosh created you as a fully adult human but you have all the experience and maturity of a four year old hatchling!"
The Dovahkiin flinched back as if he'd been stuck and for once didn't have a retort. Odahviing met his gaze that was oddly shocked and wondered what in Oblivion was wrong with him.
"Y-You take that back", the Slayer said at last, pointing one finger at him. Was he… trembling?
"Take what back?" he asked, still irritated but now also confused.
"I… I'm not… I wasn't created, you dumb lizard! I had a life before Helgen! I may not remember it but I had a life! I had a family!"
He couldn't… possibly be that stupid, could he? Please, Akatosh, say that he wasn't that stupid! This being was supposed to rule over them!?
"A family?" Odahviing mocked him incredulously. "A family who never came for you? Never contacted you? Your face is the best-known in all of Skyrim and well beyond its borders too. You think if you had any mortal family, they wouldn't have come knocking at one of your lairs at some point? Even if it was just to take part in your riches, your fame?" He scoffed. "You were not born to mortal parents. Your father is Akatosh. Your mother is the Earth. You are closer related to me than you are to any other human who walks the earth. Your only family are dragonkind."
The Dovahkiin stared at him with a dumb expression, finger still raised. He looked at him from under that helmet forged out of the scales of his brothers and sisters that he'd slayed.
"You're lying", he whispered, horrified.
"Why would I be lying? You never had a nest-mother to teach you proper manners. That might've been fine when all you had to do was battle but now that you've gotten yourself in trouble, Akatosh has saddled me with taking care of your education. You should listen to your elders!"
But the Dovahkiin was not listening. He was shaking his head, slowly walking backwards from him.
"That's not true… That's not…"
"Where do you think you're going? I'm not done yet!" Odahviing shouted as the Slayer backed further away, almost as if he was… afraid. Which was, obviously, ridiculous.
"Dovahkiin!" he shouted.
"Fuck you!" the Slayer shouted back, then turned and…. left.
"Dovahkiin!" he shouted again, enraged but the small human was quick to vanish between the trees. Odahviing caught a glimpse of flashing magic as he turned himself invisible and he cursed quietly as he stuck his heard between the trees, looking to catch a whiff of him.
"Uhm, I think maybe you should give him some space", Eragon said hesitantly as Odahviing felled a couple of trees trying to crawl further into the forest.
"That bloody idiot! He can't just leave!" Odahviing growled, angrily lashing out with his tail this and that way, making Brom curse and jump aside.
"Elder, please, I think you upset him. Give him some time, I'm sure he will return", the dragoness whispered in his mind.
"How could I possibly upset him? He's a spoiled little hatchling. He doesn't care about anything but blood and gold", Odahviing protested.
"Well if you would be so kind as to explain what is even going on, we might be willing to help you look for him", Brom offered a bit sarcastic.
Odahviing lost the trail of his scent and his big frame wouldn't fit in between the trees without uprooting the entire forest. He slumped a bit, chiding himself. He had one job – look after the Dovahkiin, make sure he didn't mutilate his soul any further. And now he'd lost his charge. Akatosh would be so mad at him.
"I would… appreciate your help", he allowed, at last. As a dragon he was made to hunt his prey over the hills and valleys and snowy mountains, not through dense forests where every little crevice was an ally to the small-framed. He only hoped that the Dovahkiin would stay away from any demons until he found him.
Odahviing and Saphira had taken to the air, scouring the surrounding landscape while Eragon and Brom searched the forest on foot. Through Saphira's mental connection with her rider, the two groups kept communicating. The humans updated them on their lack of progress – that Dovahkiin was one hell of a sneaky guy. They filled in Odahviing's blanks when it came to the history of Alagaësia, Galbatorix' rise to power and the current situation in the land. He learned how Saphira was the first dragon to hatch in decades and how the only other living dragon was the one Galbatorix had enslaved., though there were two dragon eggs still in his possession. Odahviing in turn told them a bit more about their origin and mission.
Brom in turn shared a few of the old legends he'd heard and so they gradually put the puzzle together.
All dragonkind, on Nirn as well as Alagaësia, or so Odahviing claimed, had been created by Akatosh; or at least the first generation had been. In ancient times, dragons in both worlds worshipped Akatosh but they had also always been hostile towards mortalkind. In Alagaësia, the order of the Dragon Riders had been formed with Akatosh's blessing to bring peace between the two races. On Nirn, any such attempts had been nipped in the bud by Alduin, firstborn son of Akatosh, the most powerful of dragons who desired to rule over all of Nirn. In both worlds, dragons had eventually turned away from the ways of worship. In Nirn, it was because Alduin demanded that worship for himself. In Alagaësia it was because the peace of their Golden Age required less intervention from Akatosh and so his presence was felt less. The mortals also brought their own made-up religions into the mix, teaching them to their newly hatched dragons.
Brom wasn't too sure what had lead to the extinction of the wild dragons. They were all but gone when Galbatorix rose to power already. Odahviing was convinced that it was because they stopped worshipping Akatosh, that the god had either punished them for their disloyalty or that they simply had too many enemies that they could no longer keep up with without their god's blessing. Undoubtedly, Galbatorix would've never managed to destroy the order of the Riders like that if the Riders had properly worshipped Akatosh.
Brom very much doubted that version of events and Eragon was on the fence but Saphira listened, eagerly absorbing every word.
On Nirn, Akatosh had punished dragonkind for losing their way and disobeying him. It had taken him a few thousand years, granted, but it had been a long time coming.
Brom then asked why Akatosh would send them here to help if they were all such a bunch of heretics. Obviously, Odahviing explained, it was because the only dragons still living in the world were so young and no more sources recording Akatosh's might existed. It would be unfair to punish them for not worshipping a god they'd never even heard of.
"What about Dovahkiin then?" Eragon wanted to know. "What is his role in all this?"
"The Laat Dovahkiin was created and send by Akatosh as punishment for dragonkind and to replace Alduin as our ruler", Odahviing explained. "He may have the body of a mortal but he has the soul of a dragon and is well-versed in the Thu'um, our inborn magical power. When Alduin returned from his temporary banishment four years ago, the Laat Dovahkiin was send to Nirn to battle and overthrow him. It was a short war between mortalkind and dragonkind and many of my brethren died in it – most of them by the Dovahkiin's blade, who fought on the mortal's side. After he defeated Alduin though, by right of victory and strength he was supposed to ascent the throne and put an end to the bloodshed. Instead he's been running around all creation, adventuring, taking care of mortal problems they very well could've taken care of themselves and shying away from his responsibility!"
"Wait", Eragon said, with Saphira carrying forth his question, "so Dovahkiin lead a war on your kind and now that he's won, you want him to become your new king?"
"It is what he's been created for. It is Akatosh's will and if we do not follow it, we shall all perish!"
"It takes a very different kind of leader to lead in war than in peace", Brom said.
"Maybe for humankind it does", Odahviing scoffed when Saphira, flying next to him, relayed the words. "All I expect is that he makes his rules clear and kills those that break them. Most of his duty would be focused on negotiating with the mortals anyway on where we can build our lairs and such without being accused of taking over their territory and inciting more war. That's the whole point of having a mortal-looking dragon king, for him to connect our races."
Odahviing kept complaining to them about the Dovahkiin, how immature he was, how much damage he would undoubtedly cause before he grew into his power and on and on it went.
When the sun dipped below the horizon, they still hadn't found the Dovahkiin and the humans were getting tired. Brom was insistent that the couldn't stay in the area too long as it was only a matter of time until they attracted the attention of the Empire, specifically the Ra'zac. Odahviing was not concerned. He'd promised Saphira to kill the Ra'zac anyway so if they came for him, that just saved him time. It was far more important that they find Dovahkiin as soon as possible.
"You're worried for him", Eragon said when they'd eventually convinced Odahviing to rest for the night. The two dragons, two humans and the two horses Brom had retrieved from their last camp were huddled around a small, smokeless fire.
"I'm worried about everyone around him", Odahviing growled. "He can get into so much trouble, it is unbelievable. I still can't believe that he just ran away like that. He knows he's supposed to stay near me. Akatosh was very clear on that!"
Eragon still had some trouble wrapping his head about there being a dragon god, one that was apparently openly speaking with his subjects.
He had no trouble understanding why Dovahkiin had left though.
"I think what you said to him really shocked him. It's not a small thing to find out that... well, that you were literally created by a god from scratch", Eragon told the great dragon quietly. "Something like that would be shocking to anyone. And if he's really so young, well... How much does he even understand about his role, even just about the things you told us?"
"I'm sure Akatosh told him exactly what is expected of him", Odahviing growled.
"Did he thought? Are you sure? Have you asked him?"
Odahviing was silent for a moment. He didn't like the way that mortal talked to him, as if he was giving advice. He didn't need advice from a mortal!
"Even if he didn't know, what is there to be upset about? I was created by Akatosh too. It just means his bloodline is on par with the mightiest of dragons, as it should be", he exclaimed. "It's a good thing. A great thing! Why would that upset him?"
"Maybe because he waged war on the dragons, killing several of them, and only now finds out that he might be related to them?" Saphira guessed, managing not sound sarcastic at all. "I know that would upset me, if someone told me that I'm actually half deer and was created by the deer god, all the while I've been eating them this whole time!"
"He always knew that he was dragonborn!" Odahviing protested. "The blood might've been hereditary in the past but the last dragonborn emperor died a few generations ago. He couldn't have been a natural descendent! Where else did he think he came from, huh?"
"Most humans won't assume being formed from nothing by default when they question their origin", Brom commented.
"When Saphira hatched for me and I first realized what it meant to be a Dragon Rider… I was overwhelmed", Eragon admitted, trying a different approach. "I had never expected anything like that to happen to me. I mean sure, as a boy, I might've imagined going on an adventure or two, especially listening to Brom's stories. But I never expected that my life would go that way. I had… smaller dreams. Taking over my uncle's farm, or even just working there when my Cousin Roran took it over. Maybe moving into a bigger town, learning a craft. My dream was riding my own horse and now I'm riding a dragon." He smiled at Saphira and patted her snout as she nuzzled him.
"Of course it's a good thing, a great thing. But it's not what I had expected. It did shock me at first and I did need time to come to terms with it. Suddenly Brom tells me the fate of Alagaësia depends on Saphira and me and that I have to learn how to be a proper Dragon Rider or be captured and forced to work for Galbatorix. It…. It was a lot. And it doesn't sound like Dovahkiin's fate is any smaller."
Odahviing took a moment to think about that.
"It is rather big", he admitted grudgingly.
"Especially for a four-year-old. I'm not sure if you've ever met a four-year-old-human but… They're not really fit to rule over an ant-hill, much less an entire race", Eragon said gently. "He needs time."
Odahviing sighed. Maybe the human had a point. He was getting impatient because every day that the Dovahkiin wasted was another day the dragons were without leader and thus were busy fighting each other and the humans for dominance. On the other hand, Akatosh was the god of time. What were the chances of their return to Skyrim not including a bit of temporal stretching? For all Odahviing knew they could spend a few decades in this world, properly training the Dovahkiin, and when they returned not a day would've passed.
"We have to find him. Soon. I don't like that he's out there alone. I don't like that he hasn't called me yet. I could find him immediately if he did."
"Uhm, I was meaning to ask about that. How is that you speak aloud like that rather than mentally?" Eragon asked.
Odahviing looked at him as if he had asked why he wasn't carrying his old egg shells around with him.
"Why would I not speak aloud?"
"Ah, I may be able to explain that", Brom said, looking rather uncomfortable. The others turned towards him.
"In the old days, so legend goes, all wild dragons could speak aloud. The dragons of riders had a special connection to their humans or elves and made use of the telepathic connection they shared their whole life, while wild dragons would lose the ability as they grew older. The dragons were not always on best terms with the order of the riders though and during a particularly difficult time, they started to hand over only eggs that were… Well, that they saw a fault with, somehow. The dragons that hatched from them were not physically able to talk and could only communicate telepathically. Then the wild dragons stopped giving eggs to the riders altogether and so the later dragons of the order were all descendants of the mute dragons."
Odahviing bristled at that. "First of all, we don't lose the ability to speak the mind tongue. It is simply not done between adults, only between hatchlings and nest-mothers. Shielding our mind from unwelcome intrusion is one of the first things a hatchling learns. A mute dragon is barely a dragon at all. Our power lies in our voice. In my time, we would smash any eggs that were suspected to have such a fault."
Saphira reared back as if stuck. She actually dared to send a spike of a mental attack at him, even as her Rider jumped to his feet to soothe her.
"That was entirely uncalled for", Brom chided him.
"It is the truth", Odahviing said stubbornly, shaking off the young one's attack with ease.
"Saphira is not faulty!" Eragon protested hotly. "How can you say something like that!? She's an amazing dragon!"
Saphira send another mental attack at him but this one was more sloppy and left her end wide open. He could feel her hurt, her pain at his words, the feeling of betrayal. It confused him. He had just been stating facts. But it was not his intention to alienate the entire group. He did need them to find the Dovahkiin after all. So he decided to backtrack.
"I did not mean that I would necessarily agree with such policy. Dragons in my world are just as much at the brink of extinction as they are in yours so evidently, we've done something wrong. I am just saying that not being able to speak, and thus shout, is much more crippling for a dragon than it would be for a human." He turned to address Saphira directly. "I am sorry if my words were insensitive. Your muteness is a tragedy but it is of course due to no fault of your own. Who knows, maybe if you prove your strength in this mission, Akatosh may listen to your prayer and give you a voice."
A tense silence followed in which Saphira continued to glare at him. At last though she turned away, tugging her head beneath her wing as she gave him the cold shoulder.
"She says she accepts your apology but notes that she's not surprised god punished you for your arrogance by having you watch an even greater prick than you are", Eragon translated, slightly uncomfortable.
Odahviing merely chuckled, knowing that she was probably right. Pride, ambition and competitiveness, those were the three main virtues of dragonkind. It was a constant struggle for all of them to not slip into their respective darker faults; arrogance, greed and bloodlust. This mortal rider wouldn't know what hit him once his dragoness reached maturity and started demanding to be properly paid for her work and to have her saddle be made of gold.
Odahviing settled down for a couple of hours of sleep as well. He had entertained the humans mainly for Saphira's sake but as she seemed to have lost interest in the conversation, so did he. He ignored Brom's concerns about Imperial spies that might sneak up on them to get them. Mortals were no danger to him. While Odahviing closed his eyes, Eragon turned to Brom and whispered:
"So… what's up with him only having two legs then?"
Brom sighed and sat down for a lengthy history lesson about the different kind of dragons, coming in all sorts of colors, some scaled, some feathered, some smooth-skinned, some horned, some webbed, some with two legs, some with four, some with fins. Odahviing was tempted to cut in and tell them how clearly, the two-legged, scaled, horned dragons were obviously the best of them all as all other sub-kinds had died out way earlier. His two legs made him much more agile in the air. Saphira having four legs was just another proof that she was descendant of a faulty line – but he shut his snout and didn't say anything, swallowing his pride for the sake of peace. He needed them just a little longer.
