Paarthurnax | The Hero of Legend

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So this fic is my first ever request. I wrote it super fast with a small bit of research. It's certainly not the best thing I've ever written, but it was really nice to get to know the requester so I was determined to get it done. I hope you enjoy it!


Title: The Hero of Legend

Word Count: 689

Pairing: Paarthurnax + Dragonborn! Reader (Platonic)

Requested?: It IS! It was requested by the darling, @SeaPancakeOfficial !! Love the opportunity to take a swing at something new. Somehow I got this done in less than 24 hours.

Summary: She may be the Dragonborn of legend, but why should that mean she should change to better suit what they want her to be?

Warnings: NONE :)


The snow bit at her ankles. Though she was well accustomed to the Skyrim winter, few can prepare you for the ferocity of the icy wind upon the Throat of the World. The whipping and biting at the exposed skin.

The few spells she had picked up had become invaluable up to this point, warming her hands with a fire spell.

"Child, that will not be necessary."

"I do apologize Arnegeir, but it's just so damn cold up here."

She shuddered as she was ushered inside High Hrothgar.

"Perhaps wearing furs would be preferable, Dovahkiin. As opposed to your current leather."

She glanced down at her choice of apparel.

"I suppose. But I do prefer my current armor set as opposed to a set of furs... maybe I should get a cloak..."

"Dovahkiin, please."

"What?"

"Your ramblings are very unbecoming."

"Well, I do apologize, but it's not every day that I get called up the tallest mountain in the world and then, this on top of finding out I'm part dragon-"

"-You're not part dragon-"

"That I'm expected to save Tamriel? FROM A FELLOW DRAGON?!"

"-Dovahkiin you're still not-"

"And now I need to climb more of this mountain to see a friendly dragon again."

"To Master Paarthurnax, yes. He requested your presence to further along with your mastery of the voice."

"That sounds good to me."

Arnegeir sighed in relief.

"Let me retrieve that aforementioned cloak."

"Thank you," she called, turning to the carved walls around High Hrothgar.

Ancient carvings made by ancient Nords, undecipherable and strange. Fingers tracing the depth in the archaic letters.

"Who wrote you? What do you mean?"

Words seemed to flow off of the walls, dancing around the room. The sound was deafening, making it impossible for her to hear Arnegeir's call, and simply felt the plush furs being draped on her shoulders.

"Oh, thank you Arnegeir."

"You should make your way up to him now."

"I will, thanks again."

She felt the frigid air against her face as she pushed open the doors of the monastery. The clear skies shout was certainly a help, as it disposed of most of the icy winds. And before long she saw her familiar scaly friend.

"Always a pleasure, Paarthurnax. I am ready to continue my mastery of the voice."

"Drem yol lok! It is good to see you once more, mortal. Lok paaz? You are certain of this? The climb of this mountain is no small feat for a mortal such as yourself."

"I'll be fine."

"Well if you are certain... please meditate on these words of power. We will speak again when you can tell me what they mean..."

Hours began to drift by, and the lack of communication from the Dovahkiin was puzzling to the elder dovah, so he called to her.

"Dovahkiiin? Mindoraan hi? You understand do you-?"

And there she was, slumped against the word wall, snuggled into her cloak.

"My dearest dovahkiin, you must return to your training."

"I don't... wanna..." she mumbled, eyes still closed.

"Dovahkiin. You must return to your studies."

"I feel I know enough shouts, besides why study fire breath when I have this," she sat up and held a flame in her palm.

"For you are born of the dovah... Krosis, return to your studies mortal."

"Very well, so long as I can have something in return Paarthurnax."

"And what may that be mortal?"

The dovah was intrigued by a proposition from his unwilling student.

"Recant a story, and I shall learn the Thu'um."

"It will be so, dovahkiin."

And she returned to her meditations, reading the word wall, and reciting the words.

"Paarthurnax! Look!"

She turned and faced the open air," YOL TOOR SHUL!"

And a gust of flame rose from her throat, engulfing the air.

"Ah mortal! I am filled with Kah! Nothing but pride for you!"

"A story?"

"A bargain was indeed struck. Listen well mortal... this was many eons ago..."

She may have been a rough hero, but she was the Dragonborn nonetheless, and she would fight for what she was destined to be, whether or not she fit the stereotype.



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