4
" I seek a favour." He growled, bringing his head closer to her. His lethal aura coming off him and encircling the Dragonborn. She was saturated in it. Her fear was palpable, but so was her arousal now, he could taste it. This confuses him again, but he remains still.
"I was called here by the Greybeards," she speaks clearly, her posture and voice at odds with her smell. She shows no fear. The word brave comes to mind again. His giant heart beats two beats faster and returns to normal. "Was it you that called then?"
"My power exceeds theirs," he struggles with words he does not remember in the common tongue, "Worms beneath my claws." He opens his jaws, saliva leaks liberally through his teeth and smokes escapes, rising to the sky, "Speak to me now for you are in my presence . Within my shadow."
She bows her head, and beads of sweat drip from her chin with the movement. His long tongue curls in his mouth but it remains within his teeth, his nostrils flare. The sunlight glitters on her gold earrings, captivating his attention for a second.
"Speak your favour, Alduin," she says, her eyes narrowing on him as she straightens, he can see an acceptance in the way her shoulders move. A messenger to her Lord he was not, but he could open portals.
"Find Blackreach," he orders, "Find the entrance, find the Elder Scroll, the Elder Scroll. Bring them to me, to me. I will take you to your Lord."
He growls in satisfaction when she falls to her knees in front of him. Her knees part a little and he can see the wetness from the smoke coming off her. He can see she is on the verge of inciting her Berzerk rage, he pulls back, reducing his aura. She would face death fighting and aroused. He did not want to be the enemy yet.
Alduin liked that. It reminded him that a dovah was within that weak body. The soul answering to him despite her thinking it was induced by her Lord. She recognized the king but associated it with a Daedric Prince.
She stands and asks. "I return here?"
He stares at her for a long moment before he growls slowly. "My avatar will join you." He releases the vision of the entrance from his mind and it enters her body as though she were absorbing a soul from him. He gives her the understanding of his memory. This is where he wants her to go. He will be waiting there.
She stares at him, her tusk moving a little. She nods and turns. He watches her walk back down the mountain without even speaking to the Greybeards. He growls again and opens his massive wings.
************
He arrived first. He had seen her white aura as he had flown over the clouds and knew she would not arrive for another couple of days. He landed on the great snowy expanse over the Dwemer ruins of Alftand.
Snow crunched and exploded in a flurry of clouds about his frame. There was a giant spider southward that ignored him. He looked about the area, much of the ruins was beneath the snow. The sun is high in the sky now. He can hear the singing of the Elder Scroll as clearly as though he were standing beside it. It is close.
He waits. A day, maybe two. He transforms into his lesser form, black smoke encircle his frame and he shrinks in on himself. The smoke settles and he stands alone in the frigid weather. A blast of cold hits him, he shivers and moves to a dilapidated cabin with two missing walls.
A bed roll and a chest he finds. His body shivers again and he increases the beating of his heart. Warm blood flows to his limbs and he can concentrate on creating armour. He does not travel inside a Dwemer ruin without scales to cover his body.
Talons for his hands and feet appear first on the wooden floor of the cabin. Dragonscale greaves, chest plate and horned helm follow. He moves quickly to wear the armour. He does not like this bitter cold. His scales are resistant to such.
The horns on the helm are a miniature version of his own. It is a heavy helm, only a slit across his eyes. His face is obscured completely. The lack of sight not detrimental. Dragons have extraordinary senses that can not be described and his is already enhanced beyond normal dragons. Eyes were not necessary for sight.
He is covered from head to foot now. The cold no longer bothersome. He narrows his eyes from behind his mask as he turns to face in the direction of Wayward Pass. He can see her aura through the snow, rock and ice. His fists clenched at his sides.
He waits.
***********
An hour, maybe two passes, and he can see her bright white aura. She has crested the Pass and making her way towards him. A black shape amidst the white desert of Skyrim. He can see her heart hammering in her chest.
He straightens just as she stops in front of him. He is covered in scales, hands and feet are taloned. She does not see anything of him except his eyes through the slit of his helmet.
Their eyes meet and lock. Her steps slowed, the snow crunching beneath her feet. She stopped in front of him, five feet away. Her breath clouds the air and she straightened. She is tall, reaching almost to his chin.
His eyes narrow within his helm. Her tusk is moving slightly, a twitch, he realizes that she does this when she is thinking. She is assessing him.
"Let's go," she nods towards him and her head jerked towards the half buried ruin behind him.
He nods and without saying a word turns on his heels. She follows.
Blackreach awaited below.
