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nerevar-quote-and-star · 1 year

Text

Protector

ao3

Author's Note: Dedicated to my dear friend @elder-dragon-reposes 💖

Summary: The Dragonborn is worn thin, but Odahviing will protect her.

(Dovahzuul translations at the bottom)

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When she captured him, the first thing he understood about the Dovahkiin was that she was calm. As the joorre of Hofkahsejun yelled and scurried around like rats, she stood against the storm of fire and chaos, watching and waiting. Her crystalline eyes reflected the disorder with clever, quiet cunning. When she spoke, her mortal voice carried all the weight of power found in the Strong Voices of Dov far older than him. Her presence demanded fealty. Castrated before her, Odahviing did not find it difficult to relinquish his service to Alduin Thuri.

He did not pledge himself to her then, but he would.

After her defeat of Alduin in Sovngarde, Odahviing was not often far from her side. Clever and crafty as the Dovahkiin was, Odahviing knew the joorre in her would get her into trouble. Someone needed to teach her the ways of the Dov. Kaan knew the Old One would only teach her of the delicacy of her Thu’um and not the weight of it. Concerning the ways of the Dov, the Dovahkiin needed a more versatile teacher, one who could instruct her in all their ways.

And someone to protect her.

The Dovahkiin, Lee Air Uh, grew used to Odahviing’s companionship quickly after her return from Sovngarde. Though she defeated Alduin Thuri (and by right became the Judsedov, though she did not understand this), she was eager to reach her full strength as Dovahkiin. Odahviing found himself essential to this journey, guiding Lee Air Uh to the depths of the old thanedoms and temples. With the downfall of Alduin’s tyranny, the Dovahkiin erased the remnants of his worshippers, the priests who Shouted only by blessing of the masks given to them. The Dovahkiin did not need a mask to crown her over the old order.

Odahviing did not understand the significance of the Stormcrown, but when the Dovahkiin issued the winds of Strunbel with her Thu’um, Odahviing understood the power to command the storm was seen as sacred to the joorre. This pleased him.

It did not please him when she began to throw herself from his back in midflight.

The chaos of battle raged below and the winds of Strunbel churned above as he circled the field, a distant spectator to the bloodshed. She was nestled in the hollow of his neck, slotted between the juncture of his wings and spine as if she were meant to fit there.

His only warning had been her cry of Meyzzii before the slight weight of her vanished from his back. Odahviing had wheeled around to find the Meykiir plummeting into the swelling blood tide below. He dove after her. After the battle, in the quiet of painful victory, she assured him it was all a part of her plan. Odahviing did not think falling was much of a plan. Lee Air Uh had laughed.

Hers was a pleasing laugh, light and full as the sun on a cloudless winter morning. She didn’t laugh when pursuing the Strunkodaav’s war across Keizaal. No, she was always tired. There was no love lost between Odahviing and the would-be Jun who used the Dovahkiin to further his mey joor paar. Odahviing could not, would not understand why his Dovthurjud bowed to the joor jun, the Strunkodaav. What he saw was a mortal man, a usurper of the Thu’um, using the Dovahkiin to his own ends. To the Strunkodaav, Lee Air Uh was nothing more than a weapon to be wielded. She was not the Judsedov. She was nothing more to the mey joor than a means to an end. Crafty and clever as she was, the Dovahkiin did not see this. No, she followed the Strunkodaav at her own peril.

It saddened and sickened Odahviing. Unfortunately, he did not think clawing his way into the hofkahsejun, consuming the joorre inside, and building a hoard for the Dovahkiin would please her. Naturally, Odahviing kept this to himself.

He held his silence as the dark shadows grew under eyes, a pale blue that soon lost its crystalline sparkle. Once smoldering red hair grew out brown and unkempt. The Dovahkiin was wearing thin as the durkein wore on. Watching this, fury smoldered in Odahviing. For all that the Dovahkiin overcame Alduin and his tyranny, the ambitions of the Strunkodaav would be her doom.

There came a morning over a year after the Dovahkiin returned from Sovngarde and Odahviing pledged himself to her that he did not see her. The latest in a long series of such mornings. The sun shone bright and clear over Keizaal, its light still and golden across the snowy peaks of the Jerstrunmah. Odahviing rose from the ruins of Skuldafn, desolate and empty since the Dovahkiin’s storm tore through it in pursuit of Alduin. She laughed when he bemoaned the desolation of a perfectly good fane. “Make it yours, then,” she said, a smile tugging at her face. Smiles were curiously joor expressions, but from the Dovahkiin, Odahviing thought it charming.

He did not tell her this.

On that morning he took flight from Skuldafn, Odahviing glided on the north wind high above Keizaal. It had been some days since the Dovahkiin had summoned him, and this worried him. The last time Odahviing had seen her, she told him they were preparing for the siege of Solitude. She stood before him and asked if he would still go with her into battle, something she did every time she knew a fight was coming. “Geh, Ysmir,” he said. This was his usual answer. Unusually, this time, the Dovahkiin didn’t thank him. Instead, she came forward and pressed herself into the side of his head, her arms spread as far around him as they could go.

“You,” she said, voice soft against the warm scales of his cheek, “are a better friend than I deserve.”

Odahviing hadn’t seen her since.

Circling the snowcapped peaks above the Strunkodaav’s city, Odahviing watched the joorre below scurry at the sight of him. Even after all the time he spent in the company of the Dovahkiin, the people of Keizaal still feared the sight of a Dovah wheeling overhead. It was shameful.

It was not long before she came out. Odahviing saw her look up from under a curtain of curling brown hair before turning toward the city gates. Odahviing waited for her to reach the great bridge before he landed on the outskirts. He did not wait long as she hurried toward him, her hands fisted in the skirts of a heavy gown. Nearby, a guard hovered, his hand fluttering near the weapon at his side.

“Ysmir,” he greeted once she was near enough, his voice a low rumble in his throat.

“Hello,” she said, her voice soft and breathless. Woefully mortal and withdrawn. Odahviing waited for her to continue, but the Dovahkiin remained silent, her Voice silenced.

Ruffling his wings, Odahviing peered closer at his Dovthurjud. Exhaustion rolled off her soul like the tides of the sea into the shore. Something was wrong. “How go the plans for fonaar?”

Lee Air Uh squeezed her eyes shut, the darkness around them prominent. “The battle is over, Odahviing. We’ve won.”

The crimson Dovah nearly reared back, but one look at the Dovahkiin told him she was too fragile for any sudden reaction. Why did she not summon him? Did something happen that prevented her from calling him?

As if reading his mind, the Dovahkiin bowed her head. “Ulfric did not think it necessary. We had the Empire routed from the moment I shattered the city gates. It was more politics than battle.” Her mouth fell open then, as if there was something on the tip of her tongue she couldn’t quite get out.

“Fly with me, Ysmir,” Odahviing said.

Her smile was gentle as she nodded. Relief relaxed her shoulders and she rounded to his shoulder where she usually climbed onto his back.

“My lady, is this entirely wise?” For the first time, Odahviing acknowledged the guard who stood not far away. The joor had followed Lee Air Uh across the bridge. “The Jarl is still concerned for your safety.”

Her arms around Odahviing’s neck, the Dovahkiin’s familiar weight settled into place. Slight, and yet Odahviing felt as if something missing had returned to him. “The Jarl needn’t worry,” she said, crisp as snowfall. “No one can protect me better than Odahviing.”

Dov didn’t smile, but Odahviing gave his most self-satisfied attempt at the doubt on the guardsman’s face.

Taking flight, Odahviing glided away from the city. He still had questions for the Dovahkiin, but she was Judsedov and her protection outweighed his curiosity. He turned on the wind toward Skuldafn, high in the clouds and far away from whatever mey paar now threatened the Dovahkiin. She was strong and her zii formed of hard ice and cold, but even Strong Voices needed rest and protection.

Odahviing would see that his Dovthurjud was protected.

·•★•·

Translations:

Dovah/dov – dragon/dragons

Dovahkiin – Dragonborn

Dovthurjud – High Queen Over the Dragons (lit. Dragons’ Overlord Queen)

Durkein – Accursed war

Fonaar – Battle charge

Geh -- yes

Hofkahsejun – palace (nonspecific)

Jerstrunmah – Velothi Mountains (lit. Eastern Mountain/s)

Joor/Joorre – mortal/mortals