countdown to the end.

[dovahfahdon]

[ It has been only two passings of the sun since Alain and Odahviing's battle at Skuldafn. Two days since Alain has destroyed the remnants of Nahkriin, the last Dragon Priest, and two days since he set eyes on the portal gracing that temple's peak.

That portal to Sovngarde, to the dead; to Alduin.

Alain has not lived this long to die foolishly. Cruelly injured in the slew of battles, Alain sealed the temple, and made his way back to his house-- Odahviing questioning the Dragonborn's next moves before the red dragon flew off.

His moves? As they ever were, since Niall convinced him of his choice of fate. He would slay Alduin, he would rend the World-Eater, and then he would-- ]

"You're a fool, Alain Ebon."

[ The vampire next to him states flatly as she presses a poltrice into his side. Alain hisses, resigns himself to silence. ]

"You have the backing of many who would follow you, and yet you take these kind of moves on your own? Are you my mother now? If you get stuck in the land of the dead, I won't come after you."

...I don't expect you to.

[ It's a quick reply, and holds more than he meant. Because it's not to her that he's speaking suddenly.

Ignorant of much of the world, Serana might be, but she is nothing close to naive. The vampire rolls her eyes, and finishes dressing his wound.

Alain stills. He wonders at his choices. ]

Comments

[nehnahlmey]

[Nothing within the mortal reeks of rejection, nothing comes of denial. The dragon watches as Alain merely continues, moving through his injuries as if they do not exist. As if he would recover and would not walk Shor's hall.

Would never walk that place, if Nehnahlmey had his heart's desire.

But there exists no other option.

The dragon wonders if his words from a long time ago (longer than can be recalled) damned Alain to this path. Led to the inevitable conclusion. Nehnahlmey should have spoken otherwise. He should have told the mortal to shed the existence of the Dragonborn.

There is nothing else, however, even as Nehnahlmey yearns for something. Anything.

He lowers his head to hover near Alain and his bed, sadness rising above all else.]

I would have you stay with me.

[A part of him still thinks, perhaps. That Alain would accept that notion.]

[dovahfahdon]

[ The dragon's head entered the broken house, and for a singular, absolute moment, Alain wishes that Niall's great jaws would close over him, crush out all indecision and selfishness and obligation-- For he had left that world, the one that required those things, and--

The dragon's soft voice echoes in the chambers of his chest, and he no longer has the strength required to push the dragon away. He had wanted.... Had wanted Niall to leave him and fly somewhere far away, but in the breath of a sentence, his will has crumbled.

Because this creature has a hold on Alain that no other can match.

Habit makes him reach a hand to the dragon, but upon reaching pebbled skin, something cracks and shatters. The Dragonborn stands too quickly, a fractured leg giving out beneath him even as he grasps out with both hands, arms wrapping around the giant head, and Alain Ebon holds fiercely to the one entity in the world that has gained his devotion.

He has not held any other in that manner, and will not.

His face is pressed into the bridge of the other's skull, full weight clinging as his own legs can't support him. It is something he never would have done, months, a year past. He allows himself this, a pure manifestation of want. ]

...I would stay by your side forever, Niall. If only there was a way.

[nehnahlmey]

[The man nearly breaks his legs to stand, but the fracture comes elsewhere, the dragon notes. In utter affection, Alain falls apart.

Perhaps the crux does not lie in mortality itself. Perhaps the crux lies in contrasts, where one lives to die and the other lives to nonexistence.

Nii los dur do joorre, a Greybeard had said. It is the curse of mortals. This separation.

Thus, Nehnahlmey would allow Alain his want. He would permit the man to voice his desire and doubt in the same breath. The dragon clings tight to the ruined structure he helped bring about and holds the man's weight without complaint.]

Zu fen dir voth hio.

[I will die with you.]

[dovahfahdon]

[ Alain's past has never been something he has wished to discuss. He cannot rightfully say it was a horrible one, but he cannot in any honesty say there was a great deal of good. For the most part, it was shackles; for the rest, it was loneliness, deep and binding, until that became habit. Solitude. Separation. The sheer unknown aspect of bonds.

Niall's softly thundering words cause a reaction in the man, a quick warmth to flip in his chest, the fact of another so willing to stay with him, no matter--

His eyes open in all ways. This thing spoke of cannot be allowed. Alain attempts to straighten, to stand fully--a mostly faulty idea. ]

Never.

[ It's an absolute, edging in pure anger. ]

I would never have you die needlessly.

[ --For my own sake. ]

[nehnahlmey]

[Rage permeates Alain's countenance. It bleeds from his form, and Nehnahlmey cannot help the thought that the man would never fully understand.

Half of his meaning is what Alain has assumed. The rest exists in a simplicity nestled deep among the dragon's secrets.

Nehnahlmey will die with Alain. It is what cannot be stopped.]

I know.

[dovahfahdon]

[ The dragon doesn't fight the statement, and Alain loses his mental balance, expecting a dispute. Silence slips from him in an awkward display, and he realizes he doesn't know how to deal with Niall.

...That he doesn't know what to do with a dragon, sad and resigned, when he had planned and expected rage and offense. Alain is thrown off balance entirely, and he simply lacks the knowledge to move forward.

What now?

What now?

His grips loosens on the dragon, again he tries and mostly succeeds to stand on his own. ]

...You know I have to go.

[nehnahlmey]

[He knows. That, above all else, is etched into Nehnahlmey's being.

He wonders if those words are an echo.]

You have no desire to go.

[dovahfahdon]

[ It cuts into him, keeps within him. Those words are absolute truth, and he has no need to affirm them. It's obvious, something clear when all else is shrouded.

Alain has no desire to go. And even further--

Further. ]

--I fear it!

[ He never would have spoken these sharply whispered words otherwise. If Alain held any hope, he would not have admitted weakness, a fact for pride to chaff at.

But there is was, and here he held to it. Alain has no want for death, a discontinuation of his simple existence, for in all things... It brought him joy, this life. The past year's time has shown him a greater fulfillment than he knew possible.

And here it would end.

And here he would end. ]

[nehnahlmey]

[There exists something in a whisper. A harsh and wretched intonation of an emotion none would expect: a sharp confession of fear, a complete rejection from a mortal regarding his end.

For that is what it would be, is it not? That the instant one steps within Sovngarde, he is--

The dragon understands. Nehnahlmey exists as immortal. He cannot know the fear of his own end, but he understands perfectly.]

Then live.

[The words come as quiet. Absolute.]

Zu lost tinvaak. [I have spoken. Once before.] You are what you make of yourself. Go do what you most desire. Work to live, Alain.

[dovahfahdon]

[ Then live. Stated so simply as if that is all there is. Alain cannot accept such a simple thing. His being yearns for it.

But there is something else to address. Another yearning. Another simple thing.

There is a dragon before him, waiting on him to move or to declare, and where others would flee in terror, likely rightfully so, Alain takes comfort in the other presence. Feels a kind of comfortability he has never felt in all his years, High Rock or Skyrim. They are two that do not fit, a Dragonborn with little interest in the role or those around him, and a dragon who lacks the stereotypical needs of dominating and consumption. They are two separate....

And closer to one when together. ]

...You are what I desire most, Niall. But I cannot have you.

[ Not in the way that he wanted, and the way his words hang in the air likely allude to that.

But more-- The Dragonborn looks upward, something deeper than determination in his gaze. ]

And I cannot walk away from this path. I will not leave things to rot while I can still move.

[nehnahlmey]

[Alain intones a sentiment forbidden to men, mer, and dragon alike. Should Nehnahlmey be anything other than his current existence, he would have fallen to rejection. To denial and despair at what the Dragonborn cannot have.

Instead, he would fixate on Alain's life. Would look to give meaning to a mortal man at a precipice.]

You misunderstand me, Dovahkiin. Dragonborn.

[Eight eyes shift to catch the man's two.]

This path does not have to lead to death. You can choose.

[dovahfahdon]

[ Perhaps he had, but it remains yet the same. Alain casts a smile without amusement in Niall's direction; the expression tired and utterly forlorn. ]

However, it does lead to the land of the dead.

[nehnahlmey]

[The dragon, meanwhile, festers in misery.]

And you intend to stay with the dead?

[dovahfahdon]

[ His jaw sets quietly. He has an urge to look away, but nothing in him is tempted to follow through. He maintains a lock of eyes with the dragon, searching for words.

Eventually, they come to him. ]

...I intend to do what I must.

[nehnahlmey]

[Do what he must, he would say. Nehnahlmey has the inclination to snap his jaws at the Dragonborn in frustration.]

Alain los mey! [He is a complete fool.] Then you do what you must and come back!

[To me, is unsaid.]

[dovahfahdon]

[ The unsaid is unknown; Alain would never assume those things.

Instead, he looks annoyed. ]

As if I desire to stay!

[nehnahlmey]

If you have no desire, Alain Ebon, then come back to me.

[The dragon could practically be growling.]

Daal wah fin gein hio zok laan.

[Return to the one you most desire.]

[dovahfahdon]

[ There is an anger growing inside of him unchecked and unknown, and it is Alain who raises his voice, over even the dragon's sharp rumbles. ]

I have told you times over that I will always return to you!

[ --And it strikes him, freezes him cold; shows in his eyes as they widen.

It's a reaction born in frustration, a line Alain has said before. Going into caverns, caves, and underground ruins: All places this dragon cannot follow him into. For some places, unknown and darker than most, it became like a ritual-- The dragon bemoaning his complaints and concerns, and the Dragonborn responding as such. As if Alain would not return. He had told Niall over and over. That Alain would always return to him.

Here, it is only born of habit and frustration. Here, anger still exists, swirling inside his tense form. Here, Alain does not know if he spoke truthfully or not.

Would he come back? Was it even possible?

He wavers on his healing limbs idly, losing equilibrium and stamina. His hands shift for balance--

In the end, in all things, there is none. ]

[nehnahlmey]

[It comes as an oddity for a creature such as Nehnahlmey to be struck dumb. Here, then, is the novelty: the unfamiliar sensation of not quite knowing what to say.

Indeed, Alain had spoken the words time and again. They come as mundane, as purely agitating, and for Nehnahlmey, whose time is endless, he cannot bear to lose a single moment without. For loss--

It is something to reject.

As per habit, he shoves his snout toward the man's arms, to allow a hold for balance.]

Will you tell me here as well?

[dovahfahdon]

[ The words come as condescending, meaning aside, in his current state. Patronizing and all of the rest-- Alain would rather stand on his own than rely on this creature, and yet his hands grasp the other, and he is stabilized.

Whole.

The Dragonborn speaks softly, something delicate tracing on the edges. ]

...I will tell you that.

[ Alain's eyes are on his hands, on the pebbled skin of Niall's head. Anywhere but contact suddenly. ]

Are you--

[ What would he say? He's suddenly at a loss.

Are you going to be there when I come back? Are you going to wait for me? Are you going to take care of me, watch over me, while I mend from the myriad wounds I will assuredly get?

Are you going to take responsibility, for driving life into me when I had accepted death? ]

...Niall. Are you going to stay with me?

[nehnahlmey]

[He will, as a parent would assure their frightened child. There exists nothing to say Alain will fulfill any vow. The dragon knows this.

Yet, with a familiar weight on his snout and a question given in sincerity, Nehnahlmey would believe him. He would answer in the way known to a dragon.]

Zu fen kos voth hio, zeymah. Fah laas.

[I will be with you, brother. For life.]

[dovahfahdon]

[ It has been something long since past, the fact that the language of Dov has become more reassuring than any of Man or Mer. Alain relaxes against the dragon, his weight fully against the creature. His legs no longer held his weight.

He would lay his head against a dragon's, cheek to the bridge of a snout, and close his eyes. Murmur a disagreement in incorrect structure. ]

Fah unslaad.

[ For eternity, he means, and it's something finally accepted, finally said back. To what Niall spoke on the Throat of the World. ]

[nehnahlmey]

[The faulty grammar would normally grate on a dragon's sensitive ears. He no longer cares. Alain has given eternity, he lays on the creature as if in need, and Nehnahlmey does not know what it means.

Alain cannot promise forever. He is, in the end, mortal, and he will--

It is an echo, the dragon thinks. A reflection back.

Comfort and sorrow both well in his beating heart as Nehnahlmey lets out a soft, mournful sound.]

[dovahfahdon]

[ Alain has never pressed to restrict the dragon's actions. Niall's conduct is his own, and even in Windhelm (no, don't think about that), Alain's actions were more for Niall's safety than the disagreement with his acts. Here--

Here, he would show himself differently. ]

...Don't. [ Don't be sad. ] Niall, I'll be fine.

[nehnahlmey]

[Alain is correct. He will be fine, so long as he continues to take steps to maintain himself, for the Dragonborn has a will unmatched by any other. If he survives the ordeal, he survives.

The core of Nehnahlmey's troubles, however, lies elsewhere. Not in Sovngarde nor in the wrath of the World Eater. It lies in a grave, in a pyre. In an old man's bed.

It lies in a beloved walking away whilst his soul rotted to dust.

But the creature will accept the comfort. He will take what this one gives him without hesitation. Nehnahlmey ceases his mourning at the reassurance to murmur:]

If you would reject my company in Shor's hall, I will wait for you.