Chapter Text
Nahl… Daal… Vus…
The three words held strength like nothing Vivild hadn’t felt since experiencing Alduin’s shout for the first time in Helgen. Tsun’s might toppled him to the ground and held him down, while his vision grew hazy and black. He soon felt the warm nothing fade away around him and Vivild stole a short breath as the biting cold air nipped at his face.
His vision began to clear, revealing his hands buried into the deep snow and the wind buffeting around his cheeks. The sky was dark when he pulled himself to his feet, but it wasn’t a quiet night; not with the roars of dragons circling above him.
“Alduin mahlaan!”
Was the chant that met his ears, the dragonborn’s eyes widening as he looked to the cliffside on his left. Sitting on the rocks were multitudes of dragons of arraying colours, looking down at him. Their attention turned to one sitting at the highest ledge, as it chanted:
“Sahrot thur qahnaraan!”
It’s words were followed by it taking flight and letting out a stream of fire, as the rest threw their heads back and called:
“Alduin mahlaan!”
The chorus continued, with each dragon calling out their own verse before taking flight, following it with a joined chorus about Alduin’s fall. Alduin mahlaan. His understanding of the Thu’um was still rather broken, but with each experience he had with the dragons, it had grown even just a little. He could make the words out bit by bit.
Dovahkiin los ok dovahkriid. ‘The dragonborn was his dragonslayer.’
Th’umii los nahlot. He wasn’t entirely certain on that one… but he knew at least it had something to do with voices. Least, that’s how he understood it?
Soon only one remained, watching him almost curiously before raising it’s head to the heavens as it called:
“Mu los vomir!”
It took flight and Vivild felt his chest swell with pride. He still couldn’t believe it. He had actually done it. Alduin had been defeated. The world would end no longer.
A rumble behind him caught the dragonborn’s attention and he glanced up at the inscribed wall.
“So, it is done. Alduin dilon. The Eldest is no more, he who came before all others, and has always been.” Paarthurnax mused aloud, and for a moment Vivild couldn’t help but feel like the dragon had aged thrice more than he had previously seen him. He frowned as he stepped up towards the wall.
“You don't sound very happy about it,” he commented, the dragon letting out a low hum.
“Happy? No, I am not happy. Zeymahi lost ont du'ul Bormahu. Alduin was once the crown of our father Akatosh's creation. You did what was necessary. Alduin had flown far from the path of right action in his pahlok—the arrogance of his power. But I cannot celebrate his fall. Zu'u tiiraaz ahst ok mah.” The dragon hung his head. “He was my brother once. This world will never be the same.”
Vivild’s smile slipped away. Ah… So second-in-command wasn’t the only thing Paarthurnax had once been.
“Believe me, if there had been any other way of accomplishing what I had to do, I’d have long since taken it.” He looked down at the axe still laying at his feet, once covered in the blood of the dragon’s kin but now clean as though nothing had touched it. “I was just fulfilling my destiny as Dragonborn.”
“Indeed. And you saw more clearly than I—certainly more clearly than Alduin. Rok funta koraav. Perhaps now you have some insight into the forces that shape the vennesetiid… the currents of Time. Perhaps you begin to see the world as a dovah.” Another rumble left the dragon, almost resembling that of a sigh. “But I forget myself. Krosis. So los mid fahdon. Melancholy is an easy trap for a dovah to fall into. You have won a mighty victory. Sahrot krongrah—one that will echo through all the ages of this world for those who have eyes to see. Savor your triumph, Dovahkiin. This is not the last of what you will write upon the currents of Time.”
Paarthurnax spread his wings and gave them a beat, the surge strong enough to blow snow Vivild’s way. The breton shielded his eyes as he watched the elder dragon take to the sky.
“Goraan! I feel younger than I have in many an age!”
Vivild heard him call as he swooped around, before hovering just a little above the red-head.
“Many of the dovahhe are now scattered across Keizaal. Without Alduin's lordship, they may yet bow to the vahzen... rightness of my Thu'um. But willing or no, they will hear it!” Paarthurnax called, before taking flight with one final roar. “Fare thee well, Dovahkiin!”
Vivild watched on with a smile soon returning to his face. A lot of the dragons were starting to scatter and a part of him dreaded what may become of them now. Would he still have to face them all? Or would no longer being bound to Alduin’s rulership end their reigning terror on the town’s folk? He glanced down at the axe still on the ground, and crouched down to pick it up. A loud roar sounded from his right and made the breton look up.
A single red dragon dove down and Vivild instinctively braced himself for what he was sure was an oncoming battle, only to relax when he realised just which dragon it was. Odahviing, the dragon that had aided him in his journey to Skuldafn, shook his wings out before settling down next to him with a low rumble. He cast him a glance, almost akin to bemusement.
“Pruzah wundunne wah Wuth Gein. I wish the Old One luck in his... quest. But I doubt many will wish to exchange Alduin's lordship for the tyranny of Paarthurnax's 'Way of the Voice,'” the wyvern commented, Vivild grimacing at his words. “As for myself,” the dragon had soon turned his gaze to him with his deep blue eye, “you've proven your mastery twice over. Thuri, Dovahkiin,” the dragon dipped his head towards Vivild, “I gladly acknowledge the power of your Thu'um. Zu'u Odahviing. Call me when you have need, and I will come if I can.”
Vivild stood stunned at first, only staggering back as the dragon took to the sky. All he could do was watch as Odahviing flew above him. He huffed with a grin, his smile growing wider and wider until it hurt, but he couldn’t care. Not as he cupped his hands around his mouth and called loudly out to the red dragon.
“Krif voth ahkrin, fahdon!!” he hollered, hearing the roared response of the dragon in return.
‘Fight on bravely, dear friend.’
Vivild… did not miss the ice wraiths. The sting of their frosted venom made him shudder and draw his fur cloak around him even tighter in some feeble attempt to block the cold out, despite feeling like the heat was escaping him from within. The Dragonborn was nothing short of relieved to see the monastery before him after the winding way down the mountain and dared to jog the rest of the way to the door. Cold hands on metal were no one’s friend, and he regretted not trying to see if he couldn’t fire breath his way to heating up his hands without roasting himself alive. But ah, there was nothing he could do about it now as he heaved the door open and shut behind him.
He wasted no time and shuffled over to the nearest brazier, his fingers so cold they were already turning a concerning shade of blue. He shivered, hopping from one foot to the other as he willed the freeze back. Gods, he should have just booked it. The starting blizzard up there was bad enough. The wraiths only made the cold harder to bear.
“I can see it in your eyes. You've seen the land of the gods and returned.”
Vivild whipped his head around, eyes widening as Arngeir stood by him, watching him curiously. Oh Gods, he couldn’t have made this more awkward. The Greybeards were obviously waiting on some sort of answer but here was the dragonborn, shivering from a pinch of cold, his arms coiled around him and feet shifting from point to point in an effort to return some feeling to them.
“Y-yeah just— just one second. The ice wraiths up that mountain are a nightmare,” he muttered under his breath, and stiffened when he felt a sudden chill running up from the tip of his fingers. Oh Divines, did the venom on those rascals have further side-effects that show while warming up that he forgot about? But then he realised the sensation was… warm. He frowned, feeling the warmth run all the way down to his toes, looking up and seeing Arngeir pull his hand away from his mouth and breathe in deeply.
No freaking way, they could do that?!
“Oh you have got to teach me that.” He gawked, swearing he saw a flicker of amusement in the elder’s eye.
“Perhaps… all in due time, Dragonborn. Though I believe there are far more pressing matters at hand.” Arngeir lifted his head up as he studied him. “Is it done? Is Alduin truly defeated?”
Vivild blinked at first, remembering why he had come by here in the first place. “Oh, right! I hope so. Though, I’m not sure if Alduin can ever be completely destroyed.”
Arngeir let out a long breath, his expression relaxing. “Then it is done at last. Perhaps it was all worth it, in the end.”
Vivild nodded solemnly, and bowed his head. “Thank you, for everything. Even the-”
“What it took to get here, we won’t dwell on. Paarthurnax had made his choice to aid you in your path towards defeating Alduin, so while breaking our traditions was never something I wished to accomplish, it would have been unwise for us to disobey his wishes.”
“Right…” the dragonborn murmured, still finding himself unable to meet the elder’s eye as though he were a scolded child. He had to stop himself from outright grimacing as he remembered the whole negotiation fiasco. If he could have, he’d have avoided it entirely. That whole day felt like he had managed to upset everyone. And he realised with horror there was still one person he hadn’t made amends with.
Gods, he and Delphine had been at odds already, and he really managed to screw things up more after that.
“You've shown yourself mighty, both in Voice and deed,” Arngeir’s voice pierced the silence, Vivild looking up curiously. “In order to defeat Alduin, you've gained mastery of dreadful weapons. Now it is up to you to decide what to do with your power and skill. Will you be a hero whose name is remembered in song throughout the ages? Or will your name be a curse to future generations? Or will you merely fade from history, unremembered? Let the Way of the Voice be your guide, and the path of wisdom will be clear to you.”
Vivild looked down at the hand of the Greybeard as he lay it on his shoulder, at first feeling both relieved and a little proud but the words made the guilt over Delphine resurface twice as much. He didn’t exactly make a lot of wise decisions getting here, but… that argument had been the worst in his opinion. He was going to have to face her sooner or later, to tell them about Alduin’s fate… Gods, he wasn’t ready to see her again.
“Though something does appear to trouble you,” Arngeir spoke again. “Speak, Dragonborn.”
Yeah my girlfriend may wring my neck the next time I see her, was the thought that crossed his mind. But he knew he couldn’t say that out loud.
He looked up, realising now that Arngeir had pulled his hand away and was now watching him, his face betraying little of whether he was feeling impatient or anything else. Vivild rubbed the back of his head. Something troubling him? The only other thing that was bothering him was… “It’s just—” he pulled a strand of hair back from his face, “When I killed Alduin, I never absorbed his soul the way I’ve done with any other dragon. Do you think he’s really dead?”
“Hmm, perhaps, perhaps not. Dragons are not like normal mortal creatures, and Alduin is unique even among dragonkind. He may be permitted to return at the end of time to fulfil his destiny as the World-Eater. But that is for the gods to decide. You have done your part,” Arngeir explained, Vivild nodding silently. “Breath and focus, Dragonborn. Your future lies before you.”
With a quiet thank you, Vivild shuffled around the older figure and made his way towards the door.
His future was before him… He pondered as he pushed the large door open. The blizzard outside had only gotten worse it would seem, but he didn’t have the heart to return inside again. He’d just have to make it down the mountain and hope the Gods wouldn’t let him make a fool of himself along the way. He did not need another troll incident again.
He exhaled with a grin at the temple as he made his way down.
“My future…” he hummed, the grin quickly slipping away. His eyes widened in horror.
Oh gods.
His future?!
“What the fuck am I supposed to do now?”
Reaching Sky Haven Temple was easy enough this time around. Especially now, when he didn’t have to cut his hand open to unlock the blood seal. The temple itself had changed quite a lot when he stepped through the archway. The great hall was much more lit, the table wasn’t so empty, and the place was a lot less barren than the last he saw it. Despite there only being three residents around here, they’ve livened the temple up and made it feel more like a home rather than a forgotten relic of the past.
But still, there was little movement as he stepped inside, Vivild glancing around for any signs of life. One individual was sitting at the table, though their back was turned to him. He squinted, but smiled soon enough as he recognised the dark haired figure soon enough. He cleared his throat as he approached, watching his former housecarl look up. A smile graced her lips as she stood up.
“Vivild!!” she exclaimed, moving to bow her head, but stopped herself quickly enough. Vivild grinned, reaching his arm out to her.
“Lydia. How are you faring?” he asked as she clasped his arm in greeting.
“I’ve been well,” Lydia smiled. “The Blades training, though gruelling, has kept me busy.”
He nodded quietly, his gaze darting around curiously. “Is…. The Grandmaster, is she-”
“The acting grandmaster was out in the courtyard, the last time I saw her. She’ll be relieved to see you, I’m sure. She’s been very worried about you,” Lydia explained as she nodded across the great hall.
“Right. I’m sure she was.” Vivild couldn’t help but grimace as he walked by the recruit and up the stairs, soon reaching the door to the courtyard.
Sunlight was already setting by now, looking orange in the purpling sky. But its remaining rays still cast a golden glow on the courtyard. The open area had changed as well, with training dummies and archery targets stationed in the open structures to his left. On the right was a small table and a couple of chairs and Vivild saw Esbern—the scholar—with a book in hand and reading. At the far end of the courtyard and leaning against a pillar with her back to him was Delphine. But as he closed the door, neither looked up or registered his arrival.
Vivild looked around thoughtfully. He stepped down the stairs and breathed in deeply. His hand trembled as he brought it closer to cup around his mouth as he forced himself to breathe steadily.
Breath and focus, just like Arngeir taught him.
He whispered the word of force, witnessing the gentle breeze brush past the grass, rustle branches and shift Delphine’s blonde hair from afar. She stiffened, and turned around right as Vivild let his hand drop to his side.
She was upright instantly, jogging over as fast as her armour allowed her to. Vivild stiffened, ready to receive her ire for what happened last on High Hrothgar, but was instead met with an, albeit, tentative embrace. His breath hitched, his eyes widening at first, but he soon returned the gesture—his grip tight and almost desperate as he clung to her.
Just as quick as she had been to embrace him though, she pulled away, Vivild looking down at the usual glare she was giving him.
“I’m glad to see you’ve returned,” Delphine remarked stiffly. “We heard the news from Whiterun, that you left the city on the back of a dragon! That's…” she paused, Vivild’s brows arching upwards curiously, “a little showy, even for you, Vivild.”
“Ouch,” the dragonborn commented, but a smile poked out from the corner of his mouth regardless.
“Well, given you're still alive, I assume you have good news to report?”
Vivild breathed out heavily, letting the tension sit for a moment longer, before stating: “The World-Eater is as dead as I could make him.”
Delphine’s eyes widened. “Gods above! That's better news than I had hoped!” Her exclamation had Esbern walking over curiously.
“When you walked into my inn that day, I never imagined where it would all lead... dragons out of legend... Sovngarde!”
“Heh… yeah, it’s been a strange time,” Vivild chuckled softly, rubbing at the back of his head almost awkwardly.
Esbern dropped his hand on his shoulder, forcing the Dragonborn to meet his eyes.
“You've done it… Just as the prophecy said, I knew you could do it,” the old man squeezed his shoulder. “I believed in you, and yet… I still didn't think I'd live to see this day. Thank you,” he pulled back, giving Vivild a small bow of his head. “Thank you, Dragonborn. You've done a great service for us all.”
Vivild could feel his chest clench tightly. All he could do was nod stiffly in agreement and drop his gaze to the floor. He admittedly hadn’t expected the praise. Frankly he hadn’t expected anything from either of them. It was rather… overwhelming. Somehow even more so than that first time when he found out he was Dragonborn in the first place.
Still… It was nice to know he didn’t mess this up. It was good to know he had helped… and despite the uncertainty he tried to avoid thinking about.. it was nice to hear he had done something right. But there was still one other thing left haunting his mind.
“Delphine. About High Hrothgar and what happened,” he looked up, his heart suddenly up in his throat, “I’m sorry. Really I am. When we- I never meant to use the thu’um, like-”
“It’s fine. It wasn’t fair but you lost control.” Delphine cut in curtly. “I stopped thinking about it once I was back here.”
Vivild’s gaze dropped to the floor again, nodding all the while.
“There is still the matter of Paarthurnax though,” she continued and the choke up feeling quickly vanished as he glanced up once more.
Here they go.
“Look,” Delphine huffed, “neither of us are ungrateful for what you've done. Esbern speaks for both of us. But our oath as Blades binds us. Paarthurnax must die, and there's no excuse now that Alduin is dead.”
“Y- We’re doing this again?” Vivild stammered, his eyes narrowing. Gods, he should have just kept quiet. “Look I— I never meant for that argument to get so heated it resulted in… what it resulted in, but I thought I made myself clear before when I said I wouldn’t kill him!”
The woman’s glare grew more intense, and Vivild was sure a very hefty retort was ready on her tongue, if not for Esbern stepping in instead.
“I'm deeply sorry this has to come between us. But just as Paarthurnax's later deeds do not expiate his crimes, your deeds do not allow us to ignore our duty,” The elder added, much less sharply than the grandmaster. But Vivild’s frustration only grew.
“Sorry, but last I remember you mentioned your ‘duty’, as you call it, binds you to serve the Dragonborn and what they request,” Vivild took a step back with his arms crossed over his chest. “There was nothing about breaking any oaths by letting Paarthurnax live. It’s not happening. I’ve made my choice already, and I’m not going back on it,” he explained sternly. “Paarthurnax has had plenty of opportunities to turn on us over the course of centuries and he has yet to do so. I will not harm him.”
“And now that he has other dragons at his disposal?!” Delphine argued, her voice growing taut. “He’s a bigger threat than ever now, Vivild. Why do you refuse to see the bigger picture?”
“The bigger picture is that we don’t know what may happen,” he sighed. “All we can do is wait and see what transpires next. If he betrays us, I’ll kill him, but I will not enact justice on anyone after they’ve repented for their crimes for countless years, all for some petty revenge act from thousands of years ago. But if you feel as though there are no means of cooperation between us because of this, then I suppose this is where we part ways.” He turned and walked away.
“I had hoped you’d see reason after a moment in Sovngarde. I guess I was wrong,” Delphine retorted, stopping the dragonborn in his tracks. His lip twitched, a comment ready but any energy to actually say it quickly left him. His shoulders sagged.
“And for a moment I had believed you cared about more than just your self-righteous ideals,” he countered instead, though there was very little venom in his words now. Only sadness remained, as he glanced back at the blonde. “So long, Delphine. Esbern.”