A God in a Beast's Skin (28)
Anonymous said: If you still need prompts i would like to suggest Dragon slayers and Dragon cults
This was initially a prompt submitted when I asked for Godzilla fic prompts; but like, I didn't wanna use that prompt for a Godzilla fic, but I did think of a use for it in The Elder Scrolls. So here's a Skyrim fic.
Whenever we play a game where we get to design our own player avatar we all always immediately build up an elaborate OC with an extravagantly detailed backstory and go through the game RPing that character with the backstory in mind, right? Right. This is one of my two Dovahkiin OCs, her name is Brackish Delta.
###
He had been a priest to the dragons for so long that mer and men had begun dividing time up into "eras" just to keep track of it all; for so long he'd forgotten his name and what his face had looked like when there had been blood and flesh between his bones and skin; for so long that the men now alive doubted that the god-king of dragons had ever existed.
But their lord Alcuin had returned, and the priest had felt a sense of rightness deep in his withered heart as his mountainside temple trembled under the weight of a dragon—his dragon—coming home to roost.
He wasn't surprised when a dragon slayer stormed his temple, slicing down his undead supplicants and seeking the stairs up to their dragon. He was surprised that the dragon slayer looked like the impossible product of a dragon and a man breeding together. Had magic advanced so far during his millennia sequestered in this temple?
He might have recognized her sooner as Argonian, but that her face was so much more draconic than reptilian, and that she used the Voice more fluently than even him—as fluently as a true dragon.
"Dragonborn?" He called to her as she was distracted fighting his supplicants. She started as though he'd called her name. So it was true. With a dismissive wave, he called off his followed and approached her. "You are here to slay the dragon above, aren't you?"
She eyed him warily, and for a moment he thought he'd overestimated her fluency. "Of course I am." She didn't seem accustomed to being spoken to rather than fought.
"Why?" He gesture toward the temple ceiling, the dragon on the mountain peak above. "They are your kind. You have pushed us into a position where we have to fight you to defend our temple—but you are one of the gods we worship here. Why do you fight your own people, your own worshipers?"
He expected something pithy about the cruelty of dragons, the worth of mortals, the will of Akatosh—the same nonsense that rebellious nonbelievers gage thousands of years ago.
He didn't expect her to let her face cloud with turmoil (so ill-befitting such a divine visage!), slowly lower her axes, and say, "I don't know."
###
((Screenshot of the original handwritten page below! Reblogs & comments are appreciated. Previous #writing warmup posts are on my blog & crossposted to AO3))














