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You’re so tiny [ from Alduin ]
Send “You’re so tiny” for my muses reaction.
@dovzeymahhe
The elf’s expression soured, brows furrowing and ears tilting back as he gazed up at the dragon. Foolish as it was to talk back to a dragon, he couldn’t keep himself from spitting some form of defense forth. His height had always been a sensitive subject.
❝ Easy for you to say, ❞ he grumbled, crossed his arms across his chest.❝ I’m quite tall for a Bosmer, for your information. ❞
for dovzeymahhe
@dovzeymahhe
“I’ve waited so long to see you in person, I spent my whole life hearing stories and... And gazing through the blizzard at the throat, just waiting to see your eyes, to just hear you...”
Sybhela was surprised she could even string her words together, after all, she was looking at Paarthunax, the leader of her dear Greybeards, her family, simply... Perched not too far above her. He was a truly noble creature, looked as old as time itself. Her eyes twinkled as she looked at the great dragon, and kneeled to him, as one would do to a Jarl, or the High King.
“And here you are, I’ve dreamed about this day for years, since infancy... And you likely don’t know a thing about me...”
@dovzeymahhe ( paarthurnax ) gets a starter!
She has gone nights without sleep.
Spent days, hours, lifetimes worn with tears, racked with pain.
And she has never hurt more or been more exhausted than she is now.
Her hands are still coated in ash, and she does not feel near far enough from the tragedy to fully breathe without the weight of it. An exposed vein of lava near her and her guar, and they both know well enough to stay away from it. She’s staring at it. Watching it drip, stretch before her.
Remembering how her family looked when they’d met it. How they’d burst into flames. How she’d gently sung.
Remembering all of it. Every painful verse, painful breath.
She feels cold, now. Still somewhere in Morrowind, but moving further to the edge. Further towards Cyrodiil, Skyrim. But now, it is not. Gray world is painted black and blue with evening. Her guar sleeps peacefully next to her, and she stares, half-focused.
Stares at the twisting bends of lava, and feeling nothing but ice.
{x} @dovzeymahhe
The mercenary’s words were not directed at the dragon, for he had yet to see it. No, he was speaking to a different threat: a group of reavers that he’d tracked down to this location. Councilor Morvayn was paying good money to have them killed, and for good reason. These vermin were responsible for more than one shipwreck on the coast of Solstheim, which meant important resources were not making their way into the hands of the citizens of Raven Rock. There wasn’t much out here; everything came from elsewhere, and there was precious little of it even then. Something had to be done before the situation became any worse than it already was.
His snarky comment drew several pairs of eyes towards his direction and he flashed them a cheeky grin, his sword arching gracefully this way and that as he brandished it. “Well?”
They all rushed him at once, but they wouldn’t prove too much of a challenge. His summoned flame atronach was all the backup he needed, flinging fire while he came at them with spells and blade. There was the clashing of steel, the shouts of fighting men, the cries of the dying. All in all, the battle lasted all of five minutes, ending in a burst of fire as his atronach succumbed to its wounds.
Left standing alone, surrounded by several brutalized corpses, he sheathed his sword with a huff before checking himself for injury. Everything seemed to be in order. Save for what came from a small gash on his cheek and a split lip, none of the blood was his. Good. Now he could return to Raven Rock and collect the bounty, maybe get himself a drink as a reward for a hard day’s work.
He turned and just so happened to cast his gaze upwards. It was then that he saw it: a massive, white-scaled dragon. Staring right at him.
“What in the name of Azura!” he shouted, taking several steps back as his hand clawed for his sword again.
@dovzeymahhe, continued from this
“That’s not what I meant, Paarthurnax.” Was it just her imagination or did he really try to avoid giving her a good answer? Personally, she never got as vague as this... unless she would prefer to keep something to herself. That was his good right, too, it was a highly personal matter after all - yet still, the young dragonborn’s curiosity barely knew any limits. On he off chance that he might have misunderstood the first time she asked...
“When exactly did you decide? What happened to make you realize that this is what is right and what must be done? And don’t mistake me: from a human’s perspective, what you did then was the necessary and good thing indeed. But what made you see it?”
Continued from here. @dovzeymahhe
“Being able to kill a god through hard work wasn’t something I would’ve believed in before,” he replied, still uncertain.
The manmer remembered, clear as if it happened the day before, the first time he laid his gaze upon Alduin. His head on the chopping block, the blood of the redhead Stormcloak staining his cheek and its stink in his nose, the axe of the executioner bright in the morning sun.
And then he came, eyes red as the blood he’d later spill and his terrifying gaze locked in his before he Shouted, and turned Helgen into an inferno.
And saved Erik’s life.
Erik wondered if Alduin later knew he was the prisoner he’d narrowly saved. He wondered if he regretted his rampage, if only because the Last Dragonborn survived thanks to that.
“And- I’ve never told anyone. Only Ralof knows because he was there but I- I owe him my life. Part of me wonders if it is right to kill a bro-” no don’t go there, don’t think of the dragons as your siblings, you will crumble, they’re not your kin no matter if your soul is the same as theirs. “-to kill a being that saved my life, under the orders of a Father who never lended me the slightest bit of help or guidance.”
He bit his lip, and a shiver ran down his spine. He was acutely aware of his blasphemous words, here on that holy mountain, the Throat of the World, where the dragons were birthed and where Kyne breathed life into the Nords. “If Alduin wasn’t so Oblivion-bent into enslaving humanity, and everyone I love by proxy, I don’t think I would be here obeying such a cruel Father.”
❝ In God we trust, but we’ll never really know what got discussed. ❞ [ Paarthy to Janna ]
Hamilton Lyrics Starters - accepting
“Trust… that’s hard to come by these days. I find myself struggling with even as little as trusting the Gods at this point. They don’t care, do they? Maybe there aren’t even any Gods at all. Have you met the Divines? Tell me. Is it all lies?”
This question should not matter to her - she was the Dovahkiin, and no matter whether this was divine providence or something else, her power was real, even if nothing else was. Still.. this very human part of her yearned to know. What was there, really? This world… Janna was faintly aware that it was not all that existed but… she wanted there to be more.
And she did not want to be alone in this universe, watched by higher beings with no benevolence towards her. She wanted there to be Gods - and not just any Gods, but Gods who cared about her and the things she did.
That notion must be ridiculously mortal to him.
❛ You have to admit, your fate does have a sense of humor. ❜ [ from Paarthy ]
“Humour? Maybe you have another sense of humor, then. Whatever you see, I do not.” Ofcourse, it seemed there was nothing she and Paarthurnax could agree on – they were too different, there was a whole ocean of differences to cross. Janna did not know whether she had given up on that or not. Still… Maybe it was not too late. She must try, the way she kept trying with Alduin. She must try, try, try, because there was nothing else she can do.
“The World-Eater wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn,” she cited. The propehcy was well familiar to her, she had read it again and again, and hoped the translation was accurate enough to allow her own thoughts to hold legitimacy. Well. If they did not… then she and Alduin both defied the Gods. She was willing to defy them all, with Alduin by her side,she would be fearless even if the Divines themselves came to stand in their way. The things she felt must be stronger than that.
“But where I steer this wheel, no one can tell. The prophecy says I must stop Alduin - and tell me, is he destroying the world as of now? Defeat does not always mean death. Defeat can be surrender. To defeat an enemy can mean to turn them into an ally. You can always kill. But the moment you take a life, you erase everything that could have been.”
Maybe they could agree on that – even if it was the life of someone Paarthurnax despised. “I cannot defeat him with his own weapons. If the Gods wanted a warrior to smite him, they would have bestowed this blessing upon someone else. But I am the Dragonborn. I am more than this propehcy, and I am more than a dragonslayer.”
