Chapter 3:
Scent of the Prey - Aurielius
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(The Fall – Hundred Days Music)
I followed Strikes as she sashayed towards the gate, the grin still on my face for a moment as we came upon the western gate to Helgen, but then… Strikes and I both froze as all thought of our future plans fled our minds, confronted with a terrifyingly dark and visceral present.
I knew logically that Helgen was a ruin, and the groans and sobs of the townsfolk only pressed the point home further but… it still didn't quite prepare me for the utter devastation Helgen suffered: as if some god from the dawning era had fallen scorned from the heavens… and wreaked furious destruction on everyone that dared look at it and remind it of what it had lost.
A jagged stone tooth rising barely a story high was all that remained of the central stone tower that once proudly bore the imperial dragon upon its battlements, the rest shattered asunder across the courtyard as if the great tower were nothing but a child's sandcastle. The broken and charred husk of some now indistinguishable building gave the merest glimpse into the courtyard, where a whole carpet of bodies lay contorted and melted together like some hellish throw-mat. The rows of houses about the peripheral wall, every single one of them was a charred and broken husk just as that first building in front of the courtyard. Even the stones of the road itself weren't spared the dragon's rage: massive gashes torn across it and craters smashed into it as if the merest implication that the dragon would dirty its feet upon it was enough that it too must be utterly destroyed. Finally, of the stone walls built by master architects to frustrate even the most masterful destruction magics of mortals and the greatest siege weapons of the day, in many parts naught but crumbled rocks and ash remained of those formidable fortifications.
Helgen was gone, and it was never coming back: the expense alone of removing all the rubble and crumbled wreckage to first fill-in the tortured earth and only then build anew wasn't worth it, better to just build again elsewhere; not to mention the fact that many people would likely now believe the site cursed. For the common wisdom was that nothing good ever comes of so much pain, or ever will again.
(Something to Fight For [Extended RMX] – GRV Music & Sencit Music)
I didn't believe particularly strongly in curses, I nonetheless steered clear of them just in case, there had to be a reason for the sheer volume of tales with similar outcomes after all. However, I also didn't hesitate to test them if and only if I had a good reason to do so too.
In this case though, after tying Sten to a convenient piece of wreckage, as Strikes and I walked along the ruined road to Helgen keep as it curved around the central tower, passing through rubble and ash-strewn streets and more leveled and burnt towers and houses and entered the courtyard… and were forced to pass by that carpet of bodies, their melted faces contorted in an eternal visage of soul-shearing agony. I slowed for a moment as I thought I saw something that stood out in the mass though: two hands stretched out from under a dozen other corpses, in comparatively better condition than the others though their races were still lost to dragonfire, intertwined as what I imagined were two lovers, family members… or friends sought each-other's comforting touch one last time in a desperate attempt to cool the flesh-searing flames…
I felt in that moment… that even I would steer well clear of this place, there were plenty of other passes in the mountains that a small band of travelers could travel through, these spirits deserved to be left to find peace with the gods.
As I stared, my gaze and mind were suddenly wrenched back into reality as scaled hand clasped itself tightly around my own. Strikes' normally fierce and fiery blood-red eyes were wide in transfixed horror as they stared down at the clasped hands, her jaw slowly quivering open and shut in visible fear as her grip tightened painfully around my own… it was a good pain; I was still alive and the searing flames were only a cursed memory of this place. I returned favor to Strikes with a more intentional death-grip of my own as she gulped and found her words, her normally quick wit slowed by the horror around us as she said words I never in my right mind would have thought I would hear her say.
"Alexander… fuck Hircine. I don't want to go anywhere near a dragon." Strikes blurted out in horror as I whipped my head towards her, my eyes wide in utter astonishment as the zealot of Hircine cursed his name. Strikes tore her gaze away, grabbing both my hands and turning me towards her in an uncommon display of her more sensitive side as she spoke again. "Let the Legion handle it, it's not like we could do any better!" Strikes pleaded.
I was sorely tempted to agree with Strikes, it was the biggest reason I hesitated to carry out Hircine's will after all: There was a massive difference between my theory that we might catch the dragon off-guard, shred its wings and then the dragon itself while preferably just staying in its blind-spots… and the terrifying reality of great towers and buildings shattered like toys, and people mercilessly burned as an entire legion of the Empire's finest could do almost nothing but wail with them.
However, just as this devastation horrified me, I also saw the same scene played in in my mind's eye across all those cities and towns we had visited while getting alchemy ingredients for my mother: Falkreath and its great graveyard squashed and desecrated like so much of an ant-hill, The multileveled city of Riften with its great boardwalks and log house-blocks burning like a glorified funeral pyre, even the timeless great walls of Windhelm shattered, and the arch-borne mountain city of Solitude with its crucial support kicked out like a the leg of a bad stool, all destroyed as monuments to the arrogant futility of mortals in mimicking the mountains and forests over which the dragon liked to roost and claim as its own.
We were the hounds of Hircine, Werewolves. We were stronger, faster, stealthier, and crucially smaller targets compared to the great shield-walls and siege engines of the Legion. We were the greatest and favored children of the lord of the Hunt, blessed with power and skill no others had, who else but we could end this?
Both shocked and conflicted, I turned my gaze downward away from Strikes' to give myself some room to think, only to have the void in my mind filled once more by visions of searing flames, earth-shattering force, and roars that shook the sky.
(Nightsong – World of Warcraft / 0:00 – 1:18)
Then I noticed something unusual in the dusky darkness, a glint of unnatural light catching my eye:
…there was something in the hands.
My brows furrowed curiously as I was overcome by sudden curiosity, I let go of Strikes' hands and slowly walked over to the pile and held my breath while Strikes barked in in confusion and then offense.
"What? Alexander, leave them be!" Strikes barked as I ignored her and leaned down, peering between the entwined hands without desecrating them with my touch. There, nestled between the woven, charred fingers was an immensely finely crafted silver ring. The ring itself was basic and unadorned as far as I could see, but what was remarkable was the embossed relief upon it: a stylized dragon wrapped around its circumference, complete with two eyes of tiny emeralds and even a detailing of scales upon its back and folded wings styled and elongated to fit upon the width of the ring; which was barely greater than any average ring… and it was entirely unharmed.
By impulse, I curiously opened my hand and reached out toward it. However, my hand barely moved before I reeled it back as if burned and jumped up out of revulsion at my actions: whatever it was, the ring was theirs, and they deserved to keep it, it could be a marriage ring for all I know.
However, as I turned back to look at Strikes the world… shifted…and upon the now intact tower, black wings darkened the sky, baleful red eyes glared down at us in the crowd, and then… Alduin shouted and the world burned.
(At Wit's End – POTC At World's End Soundtrack / 5:18 – 6:00)
"Strun Shul Bah!(1)"
A maelstrom of hellfire tore the sky asunder as fire from heaven rained down upon the city like apocalyptic hailstones: legionnaires and guards still drawing their bows were blown from the walls, burning as they fell wailing to their deaths while the houses around them were crushed and burned by the wrath of the World-Eater.
My pale yellow hand grabbed the hand an older altmer woman with a serpentine tattoo upon her left cheek and thin strips of white through her flowing auburn locks as I shouted to her and pulled her away towards another nearby tower in a panic as countless others of all races did the same around me.
"Anguloce! Nor! Nor!(2)" I yelled in words not my own as she cried out.
"Anguloce! Auriel rehta-men!(3)" The altmer woman cried out as a ball of fire from the sky impacted where we were just standing, throwing a half-dozen people away wailing in agony as flames licked at their bodies. We were a mere few paces of our longer legs from the door when the black dragon's baleful gaze turned toward us and sneered.
"Yol Toor Shul!(4)"
Then, I shouted.
"Tiid!(5)"
Time slowed to a crawl as a colossal wave of flame washed over the crowd, the flesh boiling gruesomely from the bodies of the first few hit, their screams silent in the other-time as I let go of the altmer woman's hand and frantically tore off a silver, dragon-embossed ring, palming it as I returned my hand to the altmer woman's and praying as time jerked itself back to the normal flow.
"Auriel…" I whispered before the wave of flame crashed over me.
Agony coursed through me as my elaborate priest's robes burned and my flesh seared and boiled, a ragged scream tearing out of my throat as was knocked to the ground with the shear force of the pain. My blistering hand tightening in a literal death-grip as I rolled over in both pain and fear to the altmer woman and my burning eyes widened in horror.
(Nightsong – World of Warcraft / 0:00 – 1:18)
Then, a single thought-concept tore through my mind as I writhed in phantom agony while the world collapsed and jerked. Ash crushed beneath me and the putrid scent of charred flesh filled my nostrils as a thought-concept from another invaded my mind.
'Mistake.' The thought-concept boomed, carrying a feeling of sorrow and regret with them as the image of the altmer palming and sharing the ring repeated itself. Then another thought-concept boomed through my mind, the pain of the flames miraculously fading as I gasped crisp mountain air, this time accompanied by a vision of two altmer filling my mind's eye, their hands entwined, yet with ocean-blue eyes shining with rage: one in common yet fine black quilted clothes, and the other in a set of elaborate gold-colored robes not of mages nor of nobility, strange script that seemed born of claws rather than quills was embroidered in the collars and edges of the sleeves and robe. In a dual voice both male and female the altmeri spoke, the feminine speaking the same alien tongue as before as the male simultaneously translated.
'Ahtar-men!'
' Avenge us!'
(Concealed Blades – Total War Attila OST)
The elves barked in what was unmistakably an order before flame once more filled my minds eye, burning but barely stinging by comparison to before, then my vision finally cleared as I felt scales and wetness upon my face… and a small object of cool metal in my right palm, a scaled hand clasped like a vice over my left as it was pressed harshly against the mail on my chest and all-but crushed in a death-grip.
Strikes was desperately wrapped around me, clenching with all her might and body like the serpents that made half her blood as the side of her face pressed firmly against my own and her other hand cupped around the back of my head to keep it firmly locked in place, her tail and legs doing similarly to mine.
As I opened my eyes, I suddenly came face-to-face with a screaming, melted corpse and jerked back in horror… or tried anyway as I met with unyielding resistance from Strikes' hand and face as her body wracked and she sucked in a shuddering breath and whispered next to my ear.
"Alexander… please come back…" Strikes whispered as I groaned in horror and called to her as a shudder jolted down my spine.
" Strikes!" I called in horror as her grip loosened and her face reeled back from mine as I frantically shoved her off and scrambled to my feet, jumping out of the corpse mound while feeling like I was unable to get away from it fast enough as Strikes did the same, only to practically lunge at me and constrict me in a hug that felt like it came from a bear and press her face firmly against the side of my own again. The air whooshing from my lungs as Strikes' lycanthropic strength compressed my chest such that I imagined hearing its bones creaking in protest… I tapped out. My hand frantically patted Strikes on the back in the traditional signal of surrender in unarmed combat sparring as I groaned in protest.
" Strikes… can't… breath…" I groaned only for the death-grip to tighten as Strikes growled furiously in my ear, though even as she did so her voice shuddered weakly.
" Hold it… I won't be able to sleep for the next week, you can hold your breath for a second!" Strikes growled as she indeed held her grip for a second longer, seeming almost like she wished our faces to merge as she pressed the side of hers fiercely into my cheek before finally releasing me as I gasped for breath. The terrified argonian immediately then grabbed my biceps in a vice-grip as her still-wide blood-eyes stared into mine in horror.
"What the fuck happened Alexander?! Your eyes went dead and you walked over there…" Strikes recited frantically , one black-scaled arm snapping out towards the keep before just as swiftly returning to my bicep, as if terrified that I would try to run as she continued. "…I tried to call you but you didn't listen, then… then you started shouting nonsense and ran over here then… then you were thrashing and…" Strikes kept going, tears welling in her normally fierce red eyes as I noticed streaks already carved through ash caked on one side of her face.
I did the only thing I could think to calm Strikes, reaching out awkwardly with my forearms as I leaned in towards her. Her arms were like stone at this point but caved after a second as she realized what I was trying to do and we embraced again.
This time I reveled in the embrace, the feeling of Strikes' touch and the solid comfort of my mail and the padding underneath it pressed against my body to remind me that I was still alive as I shuddered, a memory of agony across… my/the elf's flesh scorched as fiercely into my mind as the dragonfire over those corpses. Though perhaps that's exactly what the spirits wanted, for me to know what they had known… so I didn't let it happen to anyone else.
Suddenly, I felt a sudden urge to roll those words over my tongue, the last words and final wish of those elves that the dragon had so callously murdered .
The final image of the elves with their hands entwined washed over my mind's eye, along with the terror in the woman's eyes as Alduin arrived. Feeling their pain and mourning for those lost souls… but I also now knew the pain of that dragonfire, and I did not want to feel it again or worse: see Strikes writhing in horrid agony as her flesh boiled and her scales melted. However, then my mind's eye turned once more to that contemptuous sneer on that dragon's face and the glare of his red eyes . That struck a chord of defiant anger deep in my heart, the utter contempt of the lives of those elves and all the others in that crowd, burning and boiling their flesh and lives away for what appeared to be the crime of merely existing in that dragon's sight. As I saw its face before my mind's eye, I found my own mimicking the dragon's as I glared at its sneering visage.
"Ahtar-men…" I intended to whisper, but it came out as a soft growl, a for-now tentative acceptance of the elves vow of vengeance.
However, my vow wasn't so much for the elves or their lives, even as valuable as any life was including Strikes and my own, as it was because of that sneer : that remorseless disregard for all that was sacred and good including life itself, and the all but equally sworn oath in that abominable sneer that it would do everything it had done to Helgen and more to others, and it would never stop until it was put down.
In this moment, with my righteous anger stirred, I finally felt willing to hunt that dragon, if not actually fight it yet.
However, unsurprisingly in hindsight, the softness of my growl was nowhere near enough to hide it as Strikes suddenly pulled her head back from the embrace as if burned and her hands tightened in a vice-grip around my biceps again. I immediately flew into damage control as her blood-red eyes stared at me, wide with terror.
"Strikes it's alright, I'm alright… I was just testing the words, you know, like some of the Jel your parents taught me." I excused frantically as Strikes' brows furrowed as she peered at me before her eyes widened in horrified realization as she spoke softly.
"Wait… do you… do you actually remember whatever… that was?" Strikes asked as my eyes hardened and that baleful sneer glared into my mind's eye once more; and I in return as that defiance stirred in me once more.
" Yes, and that's exactly why we're going to Winterhold. One day, definitely not tomorrow, and probably not even a month from now, Hircine will have that dragon's skull." I declared as Strikes outright reeled from our embrace in shock as her eyes widened in horror before narrowing into a glare of fury.
" What?! Have you kissed… no fuck that, have been fucking Sheogorath?! What was all that?! What's all of this?! What happened?!" Strikes demanded in shock, gesturing wildly to the mound of corpses with a disturbing hole in the middle of crushed flesh-char and bone along with the scene of devastation all around.
"Strikes I…" I started, intending to explain as I started to reach out to her with my right hand out of habit before realizing that it was still clenched around something.
I reflexively opened my hand to look and saw the ring, still in my hand, I'd totally forgotten about it as I'd scrambled back to reality. However, I realized too late that Strikes probably wouldn't take kindly to a mysterious, apparently dragonfire-immune ring when I seemed to her to have suddenly gone completely insane. As I reached out, Strikes had naturally looked down at my hand, and apparently glimpsed the ring as my hand closed. Strikes' eyes widened in realization before narrowing as she hissed in fury.
"That ring!" Strikes then barked before lunging at my hand as I backpedaled and put my hand behind my back as I shouted in response.
"Strikes it's not the ring!" I started, intended to explain, only for Strikes to cut me off as she lunged at me again, this time for my collar as she tried stop me from moving while barking again.
"Bullshit!" Strikes barked as I brought my left arm up in an "L" shape, fist-up and swung it towards Strikes' arms in an inside-block to parry the lunge as I stepped back.
However, this battlefield wasn't a smooth, grassy ring, or even a forest clearing: it was a rubble-strewn death-trap and my right leg unexpectedly caught one of the countless massive, strongbox-sized bricks lying about as I stepped back, giving Strikes the perfect opportunity as she broke my unsteady guard and lunged overtop of me as my back slammed roughly against the courtyard ground.
After Strikes held the back of my head safely in one hand as we hit the ground, Strikes then grabbed my right forearm before digging her fingers into the gap between my right palm and its fingers as her lycanthropic strength easily wrenched my palm open, sending the ring into the air as she caught it and promptly threw it across the courtyard towards the keep where it slammed harshly against the high wall between it and the courtyard as I exclaimed "No!"
I would've loathed if the ring had been irreparably damaged, if it survived dragonfire it could've been very useful: most such items confer their enchantments to the one touching or wearing it, which was probably why the elf shared it with who I guessed was his wife in desperation, hoping that it would protect them both from the flames by virtue of the ring touching them both. Unfortunately, that would mean that the enchantments power would be evenly split between the users as it tried to protect them both with a finite amount of power. This was likely the elves' "mistake": they tried to share the power out of desperation because they had reason to believe it might do something do help, but they only ended up guaranteeing both of their deaths.
I was uncertain if the ring would actually be worth anything against dragonfire, even with its power properly dedicated to one user, and I wasn't keen to test it either. However, I figured since it had survived, the enchantment was powerful indeed to one degree or another; it would all be moot though if Strikes broke the thing in an overprotective rage.
Obviously, a small metal ring didn't just break when being thrown, even with a werewolf's strength, against some stones. However, the dual-cast firebolt spell that Strikes was now readying from her position sitting atop my waist just might.
However, I hesitated before trying to stop Strikes, either the ring was now damaged and the enchantment failed, or by all rights it should be able to at least stop a simple firebolt spell, even dual-cast considering everything it had been through already. With the hesitation, as well as my conscious decision to allow it, Strikes was able to shove both her hands outward with a snarl of fury in a non-verbal wish that the "cursed" thing cease to exist.
The burning orb shot towards the ring like a shooting star in the dusky sky above us.
…the ring-dragon's eyes shined, and the dual-cast firebolt… dissipated like an ember in a cold wind.
Strikes' eyes widened in surprise, though I thought she shouldn't really have been considering everything the ring had been through already, though I nonetheless took the opportunity to raise my hands placatingly towards her as I spoke again.
"Strikes, what caused me to have the vision were the spirits around here… not the ring." I said as Strikes whipped her head towards me with her brows furrowed warily, the fire from the spell still whirling about her hands. "I think the ring is just a powerful magic resist ring; that's why it survived the dragonfire and why its owners were holding it." I explained as Strikes scoffed.
"Fat lot of good it did them, why do you think we can fight a fucking dragon now?" Strikes asked, not unreasonably as I breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed like she was finally calm enough now to talk to properly; here's what I mean about her temper. However, first I needed to fix another niggling problem: it was rather awkward to try to talk about life-and-death when in a position normally used for other, far more pleasurable things.
"It's not so much want as need, but first… I'd rather not have Father walk in on us humping in the middle of a graveyard?" I asked rhetorically to point out our position.
Strikes' head snapped down to our position before looking back up at me, and a tiny smirk lifting one corner of her mouth even as her brows furrowed seriously and she suddenly dropped down and pinned my biceps again; making the whole thing even more suggestive and awkward as she responded.
"Better explain quickly then… and make it good." Strikes said coyly.
My head dropped down to the courtyard dirt with an exasperated groan before I spoke.
"Look, the spirits of two elves showed me the last moments of their lives, I saw the dragon, and I obviously felt the dragon… but what struck me was its sneer, it sneered at the crowd, I saw it in its eyes: that dragon would do the same thing to every one of us as long as it lives. We're werewolves, children of Hircine, of anyone we have the best chance at stopping it. The legion likes its shield-walls and siege engines too much, and you see how much use those were." I explained at length as Strikes' brows unfurrowed and not only softened, but started to widen with fear at the reality that we would actually have to face the creature that caused all of this devastation. I further drove home the point with a final statement. "We don't have a choice." However, upon being told directly there was no choice, Strikes balked and her eyes hardened as her grip tightened around my arms.
"Bullshit. There's always a choice. We can just leave, move, and let the legion handle it. It might be tough, but that's their job." Strikes dismissed callously as I sneered at her from below.
"Their job? We should just leave thousands of good legionnaires and countless innocents to burn because we're scared?" I sneered harshly at Strikes as she flinched and glanced away in shame, her grip loosening as I continued.
"…and what of my Father? You've said he's like an uncle to you! He might be older now but he's still in the legion! What if he was trapped in some administrator's office, what if he burned because we were too scared to even try?!" I continued, the fire of defiance all but gone at this point from Strikes' eyes this point as she grimaced and stared at the ground beside me, having a hard time making eye contact at this point, but I was both too mad to stop and I wanted to make sure I drove this point home. It was already going to be difficult bordering on impossible to fight this dragon, I couldn't afford to have Strikes balk in the middle of the fight. "It's not like moving would help us anyway, the legion's useless against this dragon, it'll only be a matter of time before the dragon comes to Cyrodiil… or Black Marsh, Elsweyr… Leyawiin…" I ranted, pointedly mentioning our home city where Strikes' family still lived before Strikes finally cut in with a shout.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
"Okay, okay!" Strikes shouted before sighing in resignation as her arms lost all tension and they pulled back so her hands barely rested on my forearms as she stared into some unknown distance for a moment before shaking her head as she spoke. "You've made your point… we can't run…" Strikes finally relented as she let go of my arms and slid off my waist and sat on the ground next to me as I was finally able to sit up; her arms and tail wrapping anxiously around her legs as she pulled them against her chest and glanced at the mound of corpses before flinching away.
"We can't run…" Strikes repeated softly before continuing just so. "…and even if we could it would cost too much…" Strikes summarized before looking up at me over her snout, her eyes pleading for guidance at this point; her resolve utterly defeated by the devastation around us. "…but how do we kill a dragon, not just fight it? You keep saying I've seen what it can do and you can too, how can we alone be anything but prey?" Strikes pleaded as I looked roughly north-east and nodded my head that direction.
"Like I've said, the College…" I started as Strikes scoffed in disbelief.
" The college? That'll take months at least to learn enough to give us a fighting chance, much less actually kill that thing! What about all those innocents and legionnaires?" Strikes argued, posing a very valid question this time. However, the answer was unfortunately easy.
"Well, barring some kind of miracle, or maybe one of us being a secret magical prodigy…" I started as Strikes scoffed again, this time in amusement as she smirked and commented.
"Not likely sparky. You barely buzzed a fly the first half-dozen times you tried that lightning bolt spell, then the next half dozen times you knocked yourself on your ass! Those are just the ones I was around for." Strikes snarked as I smirked in amusement at the memory before replying.
"In my defense, there hasn't been much since we met that you haven't been around for… That was just about all it took." I said, expecting a return quip. However, instead Strikes first looked down thoughtfully in reminiscence for a moment before smiling warmly in recognition of my point, one corner of her mouth rising more than the other in a nonetheless amused smirk as she responded; and didn't disappoint.
"I guess I have been around for everything haven't I? I still remember when I walked in on you jacking off to your father's old copy of 'The Lusty Argonian Maid' for the first time." Strikes blurted out as I couldn't help flushing even to this day as I remembered that incident and facepalmed before glaring at her as she chuckled lightly.
" Really? Here, now? Why that of all things?" I asked incredulously, my face still red as Strikes' smile broadened into a distinctly lecherous grin as she answered in a drawl.
" Well… it was kind of hard to forget… when I walked in you were…" Was as far as she got before I exclaimed " No!" and wriggled and pushed her away and jumped up, immediately walking past her towards the discarded ring by the keep as I continued.
"Not here, not now! That's just wrong on so many levels." I proclaimed as Strikes laughed at my expense and responded.
"Come on, last time it came up you liked hearing what I thought about it!" Strikes called after me as I countered.
"My dick liked hearing about it, but that has no place among the burned dead." I rebuked Strikes as my supernaturally keen senses heard her get up and start walking over to follow me while I bent down and picked up the ring before pocketing it.
"Last time I checked your dick didn't have ears… and I was thorough…" Strikes argued as I shook my head in exasperation and silently walked over towards the collapsed arch in the wall between the courtyard and the keep proper; refusing to further entertain that conversation and choosing to leave the restless dead in what peace they could manage while Strikes hissed in displeasure behind me.
"Whatever, ruin the mood why don't you…" Strikes groaned in annoyance as I walked around a half of the arch, no-doubt painstakingly cleared from where it had fallen to form a path through the rubble for evacuating survivors. I continued where our conversation had been before Strikes had sent the whole thing to Sanguine's plane of oblivion.
"There shouldn't be a mood in a bloody graveyard…" I said as Strikes grumbled in response. "How dare I try to make things just a little less gloomy." Strikes grumbled as I continued heedlessly. "Anyway, no matter how long it takes, we don't have any other choice than studying at the college, because you make a good point about facing that dragon: It's too risky to face it as a beast without softening it up, and we don't have the skill with magic to do so right now, and the less said about swords against a dragon the better I think… So we need intensive magical training to wound it before Hircine gives us the killing blow." I reasoned as Strikes glanced down pensively for a moment before speaking.
"Well… I don't want too, fuck, I'm terrified, but if we have no other choice then why not just try to hunt it as the wolf now? It might be risky but who's to say it won't destroy the college before we can learn what we need? Not to mention all of the other cities full of people!" Strikes asked, once again, validly. She might seem like your standard battleaxe swinging barbarian most of the time, but she was smart underneath all that passion. Strikes just needed to be reminded to use that brain of hers sometimes… and seeing an entire city turned into a smoldering ruin within what I've gathered was minutes, and the people within not much better off, had a way of reminding even a zealot of what they were up against.
Even so though, there was plenty of reason to not face the dragon aside from not wanting to die in agony. I stopped next to the large door on the right side of the keep that was obviously the main entrance and turned around fully to explain to Strikes as she stopped next to me, leaning with her back against the wall and her arms crossed as she stared at the ground pensively.
"Well… mainly, we're no good to everyone dead: if we try to fight that dragon now, and chances are we get ourselves killed rushing in there with no actual combat experience and no backup plan, then the best chance Skyrim and possibly the world has is gone." I reasoned as Strikes' eyes suddenly widened in realization as she looked up at me and smiled hopefully, pushing herself off the wall excitedly as she spoke again.
" Wait! You say we don't have combat experience, that because we're children of Hircine we stand the best chance? What about the Companion's Circle? I know I smelled Hircine's blood in that painted red-head of theirs one of the nights we were in Whiterun, and it was a strange time for her to be heading out of the city. They'll know from the guard riders, they have to help and they're leagues above us in experience." Strikes pointed out excitedly, elated at the idea that we might get out of this after all, and even I actual felt lighter for it… for a moment anyway before I shook my head and responded, though with a thin, hopeful smile nonetheless.
"I hadn't thought about that… Hircine bless them, but we still need to head to the college. If they fail, then the world will need a backup plan." I said as I turned towards the door, only to be stopped by Strikes as she put a hand on my shoulder, causing me to turn towards her. Strikes' face had shifted drastically from elated to fearful again as she spoke.
"Wait, you said 'the world' again… you don't really believe that's just a black dragon do you?" Strikes asked, her voice somewhat weak as she held back once-more growing dread… though once more I hesitated and pressed my lips pensively, knowing Strikes wouldn't like the answer as I gave it.
"It matches everything the tales said, and after seeing everything here… and seeing what it did in that vision, I think it's more likely… but I wasn't lying when I said I don't see how a dragon that… well… small could 'eat' the entire world. Though you know how the tales are, maybe he isn't a literal world-eater, maybe he's just a very dangerous dragon… I think he certainly could destroy Skyrim, its people anyway, and maybe even the Empire with enough time. Either way, he needs to be stopped and the Legion doesn't seem like it can do its job here." I reasoned as Strikes nodded nervously.
"I hope you're right, even if it is… Alduin. Maybe everything won't be gone, he was stopped last time and there's nothing in the tales about him eating mountains for breakfast or anything, just people." Strikes said… taking the revelation better than I expected before suddenly smirking a bit as she spoke again.
(Hiems – Total War Rome 2 OST)
"Hey… all the tales say Alduin's a 'he', and Alduin sounds like a he… but what if he's a she? You know what they always say: even Dagon hath no fury…" Strikes said, dealing with the pressure with humor as I smirked and nodded as I entertained the thought.
"Heh… maybe, but some stud would have to be real stupid to cheat on Alduin though, even if they were another dragon… and there probably wouldn't be anything left. If he's a she then she was probably just having her time of month, this all might just blow over in a few days." I joked as Strikes chuckled lightly, entirely unoffended since argonians don't have cycles they just have a mating season … arguably more taxing for those an argonian female has an interest in.
"Maybe, but argonians don't have cycles, why should dragons? She's been gone for thousands of years, maybe she's just tense. I know I'm not in a pleasant mood if it's mating season and you're not around, maybe she just needs to hump a tree or something." Strikes suggested wryly as I shook my head.
"Tense enough to kill people? Why not enslave them or just threaten every man in the city until she's sated?" I countered as I entertained the thought while Strikes smirked a bit and answered.
"You need proof that you'll actually go through with the threat and can? That might be the reason we don't see smoke anywhere else, she's relieving her tension now." Strikes suggested wryly as I shook my head with a wry smile myself again.
"Maybe. Probably not though, he probably just hates mortals for ending his reign. Fun thought nonetheless." I said with a shrug as Strikes reeled, baring her teeth and hissing in exaggerated mock-offense as a smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
" Fun thought? This pussy not enough for you? You need to sheath your sword in a dragon's instead?" Strikes "demanded" as I huffed in amusement as she crossed arms, turned away and bent over them in an over-dramatic parody of being scorned as she "pouted".
"I thought we were mates." Strikes "pouted", though now my newly-formed grin from her antics swiftly fell as I glared past her at an imaginary avatar of Hircine.
"It's Hircine's right as our lord to say and believe what he wishes, but we're not true mates. We already went over that in-detail a half-dozen times now." I vented a bit as Strikes abruptly ended her act and turned back towards me, opening and closing her mouth once and looking at me over a dipped snout as her feathers flattened demurely against her neck and head; I'd seen this look half a dozen times before and my eyes widened in surprise for a moment before closing as I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed tiredly with a "Strikes…". I then opened my eyes and glanced back up at Strikes with a cocked head and tired stare; open to what she was going to say but already knowing my own answer as I opened my mouth to speak before Strikes cut in.
"I know, I know we've been over this… but… what if this is the end of the world…" Strikes started, coming at this from a different angle than normal as I furrowed my brows in thought about where she was going, though in natural opposition to the idea of the "end of the world" I felt the need to cut in a bit.
"Not if we have anything to say about it… but what are you saying anyway?" I said and asked as Strikes took a breath and answered.
"Well… if this is the end of the world, there… isn't really much place for family beyond what we already have. You've said before that if it weren't for that then…" Strikes trailed off as she shuddered nervously while I closed my eyes and leaned back heavily against the wall by the door, suddenly feeling both suffocated and somehow excited at the same time, before opening my eyes and looking to the stars and newly risen moons for guidance before looking Strikes in her eyes and responding softly with a thin smile that didn't reach my eyes even I my words were completely serious.
"You already know: if it was the end of the world then there is no-one, I'm not sure even my own parents, who I'd rather spend the last days with…" I said as Strikes lit up beautifully, her feathers practically jumping up in excitement as a broad smile started on form on her face before they just as quickly fell into darkness again as she took a breath and spoke.
"I… feel a but to this?" Strikes asked, her voice depressing in disappointment as it always was when this topic came up as I nodded solemnly.
"… but, You know that we can't just let what might be the end of the world come and just enjoy it in the last days. We have to fight, and as long as we're fighting, as long as anybody worthy is fighting, it's not certain that the end of the world is here. I'll still want a family one day, and that day might well come. I don't want to hurt you worse by wearing an amulet of Mara with you, only feel the need to disavow it later because you don't want a family." I explained, roughly the same reasoning as always still being valid. However, this time Strikes suddenly took on a more familiar demeanor as the aggressive side of her passion struck out, her feathers still nervously demure but her face hard with determination as she spoke firmly.
"…but what if I'm fine with that?" Strikes demanded as my eyes widened surprise. This was new, though it also was a new situation, and I needed to immediately clarify the slightly vague statement so I knew exactly what she was referring to.
"Fine with which? A family or…" I asked, feeling the eager warmth of a long-suppressed spark light up inside me for a moment before Strikes' passion wilted somewhat along with her posture as she spoke more softly this time.
"Umm… being hurt. I… still don't know about the other. We're going to fight a dragon, whether or not it's the end of the world, the chances for it being the end of us just got really high. You haven't met anyone else yet that you've really liked and I haven't either, and we've been around. We don't have much more time and…" Strikes said as the warm spark flickered and… continued to tentatively do so as she hesitated strangely for a moment before shaking her head about something and finishing. "…I'd rather take a chance and work it out later rather than play it safe and… not… know love." Strikes stammered and cringed slightly, petting the back of her anxiously flicking crest-feathers back as she spoke of that which she normally didn't touch with a ten-foot pole, yet that she'd also only ever spoken of to me and about me. The warm spark I felt started to rise into a steady flame as I glanced down pensively for a moment.
I didn't want to hurt her. Though we were already best of friends and lovers, we had never committed ourselves to actual romantic love because we both agreed that there were problems with that. Problems which mostly revolved around family, problems which would inevitably come up if we did wear the amulet together and survived. We didn't want to have such a painful memory as breaking Mara's bond between us, so we just decided repeatedly to stay as we were and just look to other people for Mara's blessing. However, like Strikes said, a family might not even come up… and we were suddenly running very short on time to "look for other people". If if we didn't make a choice now then we might not get another chance, and we were the best either of us knew.
I didn't want to wear the amulet with her for the mere chance before but… if we were already doing it anyway… I could hope that maybe, just maybe, Strikes would change her mind about having a family. If she did, then I would count myself fool enough to be a jester in Sheogorath's court to give Strikes up, an all-argonian family or not.
So, under the rising light of the moons that bound us together, I gently took Strikes' hands in mine as Strikes' breath hitched and her eyes stared into mine frozen with apprehension. I smiled warmly at my childhood friend. Now, at what could be the end of days, practical concerns of family and bloodline seemed utterly inconsequential. As Strikes said, we might not have another chance, and who knew what manner of crushing regret we might have if everything did end and we didn't at least try. It was better to take the chance and work it out later, that way as we took on a challenge that I don't think either of us truly knew yet, whatever may come of it, at least we would have each-other.
I glanced down for a moment and took a steeling breath as Strikes' hands suddenly tightened fiercely around my own in what I knew was fear of my long-delayed response. I was still uncertain about doing something which Strikes and I had purposefully avoided, yet now hopeful and facing a choice that I might not get to make again. I looked back up and nodded at Strikes, her frozen face cracking as a tiny, hopeful smile broke through her fear. Finally giving me the courage to speak three solitary words that would bind us together, however tentatively, and to the exclusion of others for so long as it remained.
"Okay… we'll try." I said as Strikes' stunned eyes bulged with pure elation as her formerly blank mouth gaped, her feathers jumping straight up for joy before I was suddenly slammed into the wall behind me as Strikes ecstatically shouted.
" Alexander!" Strikes shouted ecstatically before her lips barreled towards my own and I was stunned not by a greedy, lustful kiss as I was used to from our passionate romps… but an unyieldingly firm, yet tenderly loving one that actually made my heart pang with guilt even as warmth spread through my body.
That kiss was longing and desperate , and she'd jumped at this opportunity for a closer bond the moment it came, not to mention that this topic had come up multiple times, all from her. I still wasn't sure about the future, but I now wondered just how much I'd been hurting her by being so close yet so far for so long. The question bouncing through my mind even as Strikes tried to thoroughly merge my face with hers: Was all of that worth it? Did it really save Strikes more pain… or just me?
Strikes' closed eyes eventually opened after a moment, but my uncertainty must've shown on my face as her brows furrowed in confusion for a second before her eyes widened and she all but wrenched herself away from me and stared into my eyes; her smile gone and replaced by a deep frown of resurgent uncertainty and guilt.
"Alexander? You're not happy, what's wrong? You're not feeling… forced are you?" Strikes asked, hitting the nail on the head as I couldn't help but press my lips uncertainly as I tried to figure out some way to reassure her without having her doubting my willingness forever. Unfortunately, as hyper-focused as Strikes was on me at this point, and as attuned as she was to my tells after so long, my pressed lips were all she needed as she turned away in real depression this time; her tail curling around her legs guiltily as her formerly elated feathers wilted against her scales and she hugged herself tightly. I reached out to her as my eyes widened in concern only for Strikes to suddenly jerk away in revulsion.
"No. I'm sorry, I ruined everything because my horny tail couldn't just wait." Strikes hurled abuse at herself as my teeth bared in disgust at the abuse and I immediately argued.
"Strikes I know what you do when you're horny and that isn't it, this isn't it." I said as Strikes continued to look away and responded weakly.
"It doesn't matter, none of it does if you don't want to. It's worthless if you don't want to do it." Strikes declared as I shook my head in exasperation and argued further.
"I said I wanted to try…" I started before Strikes finally at least looked at me and cut in.
"It doesn't matter what you said, what matters is how you really feel. I saw it in your eyes: you don't want to and I'm not going to force you if you don't want to; end of days or not." Strikes declared as she seemed to force a breath and pull her head high as she turned and walked towards the doors of the keep.
I felt in that moment that if I just let her walk through those doors that she would never countenance the thought of us together again, we'd already been over this a half-dozen times and I'd gently refused. If I didn't change now and challenge her on this, it would seem that I would hesitate to consider her even at the end of days with no other options. Such a harsh denial would crush any hope she had left and she would never again believe that I would truly want her no matter what I did or said. We would remain friends and this would never trouble us again, but the price was that Strikes would be forever out of reach. If I had any doubts that I wouldn't like that, then I couldn't let her leave my reach now…
I didn't have time to think, so I took a lesson from Strikes and simply felt: I still felt the guilt curling inside me for seemingly leaving Strikes pining for years, and now possibly leaving her with the painfully tugging question of "what if?" for the rest of our days. With a reason that we couldn't just "wait and see", I had hope that by giving "us" a chance we could either work past our differences and be truly happy together, or otherwise have a moment of pain before the calming certainty that "we" just wouldn't work and through that, honest platonic love could fully bloom without thoughts of romance getting in the way. Most of all, I felt a sinking dread that if I let Strikes go, that I would lose that suddenly intoxicating hope.
With newfound conviction given by being on the edge of losing everything, I lunged for Strikes' left arm and firmly grasped it with my right hand. Strikes froze, her breath hitching again as her feathers jumped up in excitement before crushing themselves against her head again. Strikes could've easily wrenched herself away, but she barely had the willpower to walk away already, probably feeling exactly the same and worse than I did. To have me holding her back was too much.
(Autumnus – Total War Rome 2 OST)
I couldn't see Strikes' eyes from where I was at, but she dipped her head and her mouth clenched as she undoubtedly gritted her teeth behind her lips and growled softly at me.
"Let go." Strikes almost whispered as I shook my head and answered firmly, suddenly more certain of this than anything in my life.
"No. Not again." I said as Strikes glanced tentatively, weakly over her shoulder at me and spoke again.
"Please… don't make this any harder, you don't need to do this. It would hurt me more if you were doing this because I couldn't give up, not because you wanted to." Strikes whispered, pleading in her hissing, gravelly argonian voice that I had come to love as my hand remained firmly clasped about her arm and squeezed a little harder as I responded, my voice still firm, yet now warm.
"…and it would hurt me more if we never knew if we would work because I was scared. We don't have time to "wait and see" anymore and… it was never that I didn't want to at all, I just wasn't sure that I could with everything else that I wanted. I'm still not sure that we'll work, but we're out of time and like you said: better to take the chance and work it out later, than never know at all." I said as I walked around to Strikes' front and grasped both her hands again as Strikes stared in stunned silence and I finished. "I want this, its just a matter of figuring out if we can have it." I finished as I stared into Strikes' red eyes as she finally acted, returning my grip with her own as she spoke again, her eyes wide in desperation as she spoke.
"You really want this? You want… me? Your children, if… we have any, will all be argonian. I'm still not sure if I'm ready for that anyway." Strikes asked weakly again, but with tentative hope as her pretty red crest started to peak up again, and I felt the new warmth in my heart flare as I noticed a particular slip-up.
"You said 'ready' that time." I noted as Strikes' eyes widened and she let go of my hands and looked away, though not turning away as she glanced back-and-forth nervously, her normally tough will stretched thin by first the dragon and now this such that she seemed almost demure. It was odd, but it also reminded me that there was still a heart under there: that there more to the fire than just the flames, that a heart fueled them. The heart of Strikes' fire was a warm, beautiful thing when it was visible. Demure just wasn't Strikes though. Just so, Strikes quickly clarified as her face jumped through a cycle of fear and worry that didn't quite disappear as her crest flicked anxiously while fire came back, her tail uncoiling from her legs somewhat and she looked me in the eyes as she spoke.
"I mean I'm not sure. You can't be getting ideas, I'm not sure that's me, you want someone else if that's it." Strikes declared, not unreasonably as I nodded and grabbed her hand again.
"I want you Strikes, we'll just have to see if it works. Who knows? I might give up on it, kids aren't easy from what my parents have told me." I said as Strikes glanced down for a second pensively, then it was gone as quickly as it came as Strikes looked back up at me with a warm smile before it faded again and she grabbed both my hands and asked one last thing.
"Alexander, Promise me this is real. I don't want this to be a lie out of pity. I'm… not sure I could take that." Strikes asked as I glanced down for a moment, dread of the unknown and anticipation of what might come roiling inside me as I closed my eyes and took a steeling breath: this was commitment, there was no going back after this, only failure and pain or success and love. Then I looked back up into Strikes' equally apprehensive eyes and thought to nod… but the simple gesture just didn't feel like enough… especially after my hesitation.
I simply let go once more and just felt as I smiled warmly at Strikes and leaned in to tenderly kiss Strikes' lips; she didn't move an inch aside from bringing her arms around my back and pulling me closer as I did the same; letting me show her that I did want this. I did want to try.
As the moment went on and I only deepened the kiss, Strikes clenched around me as she suddenly pulled us even more tightly together, leaning into the kiss in very palpable relief as she crushed us together, as if fearing it was all just a dream that she would wake up from any moment as "friends-with-benefits" once more.
I once again felt a vicious pang in my heart as I was reminded of what Strikes had gone through, it was absolutely horrifying in hindsight . The thought made me even more committed, if I needed to be, to doing my best to make us work. However this worked out in the end, Strikes would never have to go through what she did before again, and if she did, she would have the comfort of knowing intimately that we wouldn't work rather than having the thought that we might tugging at the back of her mind.
Nonetheless, I shoved down the curling guilt, lest Strikes panic again, and slowly pulled back from the kiss as Strikes followed for a moment before finally allowing my lips to pull free. Then I finally spoke the words that Strikes had wanted to hear, for perhaps far too long.
"I promise. It's real, and I won't stop until either you want to, or we're dead." I swore as Strikes' feather stood ramrod straight in excitement and her lips split in a smile that seemed in that moment to be a warming fire all its own in the cold Skyrim evening as she leaned in again in another short kiss before she pulled back and spoke.
"Thank you. All this time… I just wanted to try." Strikes said as I winced and looked away, suddenly feeling that guilt writhing inside me again as I spoke.
" Dammit. I'm sorry Strikes, I can't imagine what it must've been like doing everything we did… everything but what you wanted." I said as I dipped my head in shame, only for Strikes to suddenly scoff, drawing my attention as I quickly glanced up in surprise as Strikes rolled her eyes and spoke.
"Ugh, don't start nannying over me now that we're together." Strikes groaned, though a small smile nonetheless lifted the corners of her lips. " Yes, I would've liked to try sooner, but I'm a tough girl, I know how to forget. I would've said something if I couldn't. Besides, it doesn't matter how much I wanted it. You didn't, so it would've been worthless anyway." Strikes stated matter-of-factly as I smiled and responded.
"If you're saying it then I guess it would've been." I acknowledged as Strikes suddenly smirked and I felt her hand come up and pat me on the back of my head.
"Good boy. You know who's in charge." Strikes taunted as my eyes immediately narrowed and I glared at her.
"That's not what I meant." I argued as Strikes' smirk stubbornly remained and she fired back confidently.
"It's not what you said, but we both know what you meant. What was that your mother called it? A mind-slip?" Strikes insisted as my inner wolf growled in offense and I felt a bit of a temptation to do the same, though I held my tongue so I wouldn't look all the more like a pet dog. Instead deciding to try and turn her game around.
"If we both know who's in charge, then why are you always the one submitting?" I asked as Strikes' smirk faltered for a second before returning as she countered.
"Maybe because I like it, and I allow it because I like it. I could leave or stop any time." Strikes defended as I smirked and countered easily.
"…and yet you never did…" I noted before my smirk shifted into a smile as I continued. "…but neither did I, and now look where we are. It seems like neither of us can get away from each-other." I asserted as Strikes dipped her head in contemplation for a moment before smiling herself.
"Maybe Hircine was right, maybe we are mates, we just don't know it for sure yet." Strikes wondered aloud as my eyes narrowed somewhat, I could care less what Hircine thought we should be doing with our hearts. That Strikes was taking Hircine's opinion our love seriously to any degree at all was concerning to me.
"Maybe, hopefully. He's the lord of the hunt, not love though. That sort of thing isn't his sphere. This is for us to work out." I responded neutrally as Strikes' smile fell and she stared at the ground pensively for a moment before she nonetheless nodded in acknowledgement.
"I guess it is." Strikes said neutrally… more in acknowledgement of my feelings on the matter than true acceptance before combing her crest-feathers back bashfully and gesturing to the door of the keep right behind my back. "We should probably talk to your Dad and Mom soon anyway, we'll need to get our rest for tomorrow." Strikes suggested as I simply nodded in acknowledgement and brushed my own hair back nervously as I took a breath and tried to calm myself while I turned to open the door to the keep; I'd already gone through an emotional wringer and now I was heading straight into another one.
I knew one thing for certain as I reached for the handle for the grand doors:
It was going to be a long night.
----------------------------------------
(Disclaimer: Elven language is Quenya, from lord of the Rings, all credit for the Quenya language and any other 'elven' language to J.R.R Tolkien, other contributors and whoever currently holds the copyright of lord of the Rings)
Strun Shul Bah!(1): Storm Sun Wrath!
Anguloce! Nor! Nor!(2): Dragon! Run! Run!
Anguloce! Auriel rehta-men!(3): Dragon! Auriel save us!
Yol Toor Shul!(4): Fire Inferno Sun!
Tiid!(5): Time!