a closed cave.

[dovahfahdon]

[ A rejection of touch had never ended in such a parting. The dragon flew off, as dragons often do, and Alain expected him back within hours. When that failed to pass, he expected then days.

When that failed he grew concerned.

It had become months before he found the cave. Months edging on half of a year, and it was still nearly accidental when he came across the fissure in the mountain. Habit had him moving inward, and the presence of a dragon had him reaching for his mace.

...The sight of Niall had him dropping it.

The dragon, curled as if laying on the ground to speak to Alain, great eyes shut tight. As if sleeping. Something in Alain, something unknown and small, prompted him to cross to the dragon, even with the unknown danger of waking a sleeping dragon, to call to him, speak his name, touch his scales and pray for warmth.

When nothing came of it, he prioritized. He shut down his mind and moved in processes. He left the cave, sold his extra weapons and spent all the funds on resources and food. Returned to the cave with bulging packs and set them in the cavern. Moved to the tunnel to cast destruction spells and conjuration as well, to tear into the pathway inside with abandon.

When it came down with a crash, Niall hardly moved.

Alain settled near his bags and closed his mind to thought.

Time was outside of him.

Perhaps it had been hours.

Perhaps it had been months. ]

Comments

[nehnahlmey]

[A dovah may sleep as if nothing else remains, as if existence has abandoned its hold and life has become a mere concept. A dovah may sleep forever, eternally losing sight of himself and the world. It is a fitting oblivion for a creature outside of time.

Nehnahlmey has succumbed to such a state once before, when arrogance and power tainted his brethren and boredom him. He slept for years upon years, until he could no longer remember when he has laid his head down.

Now, he sleeps to burn away the sting of rejection, to slip off the pain that held when Alain had moved to avoid his touch. It cannot be said how long he has been under.

It is a strange feeling that wakes Nehnahlmey, that prompts him to open his compound eyes. He squints wearily against the lighting, before he opens his jaws in a yawn.

Before he pauses mid-breath, the sight of packs and miscellaneous objects catching his peripheral. Of a man leaning nearby.]

[dovahfahdon]

[ Said man is currently asleep, exhausted from his vigilance. Even as Alain has lost track of time, it has continued its ravage. He has went from six bags of resources to four, and has not seen sunlight in nearly a month.

Time has passed and Alain has been mindless to it. ]

[nehnahlmey]

[The man's identity is known, absorbed with an edge of bitterness. Nehnahlmey creeps his head forward toward Alain, watching with an intensity familiar to his kind.

Finally, understanding full well the risk of waking the Dragonborn, the creature exhales in a huff in an effort to stir the man from his slumber.]

[dovahfahdon]

[ The sound makes him sharply open his eyes, focusing instantly on the dragon in front of him. The dragon, aware and awake and watching him in turn.

Both likely seem the same in that moment, with bright intent eyes and an absence of expression.

Alain has been in this cave far too long. He has forgotten his voice and the tones of sound. He has lost confidence in how to approach this dragon.

For a sharp, solitary moment, he wishes for Niall to end him here. ]

[nehnahlmey]

[Pale eyes watch him, the accompanying expression a void. It is enough to spark wonder in the creature.

How long has the man slept near?

Peripheral gives away much and many--the growth of vegetation and the settling of dust indicate days, perhaps weeks, have passed. What is more revealing are the piles of rocks lodged against the entryways...and the scorch marks around them.]

You have sealed yourself in.

[dovahfahdon]

[ The lack of words gives way to dialogue, to rebuttal. Alain does not move or blink away, but he licks his lips once, gives moisture back to the cracked skin. His voice comes as undeniably hoarse, unused. ]

I have sealed others out.

[nehnahlmey]

[Alain has not spoken in some time. He utters a correction.

The dragon blinks.]

Why?

[dovahfahdon]

[ The answer proves itself too obvious for him to speak. Throat dry, he falls back into silence, staring at the dragon.

The reason as to why the cave was sealed. ]

[nehnahlmey]

[Silence fills, resonating louder than any words. And Nehnahlmey would break it.]

None would dare disturb a slumbering dragon.

[dovahfahdon]

[ Alain blinks once, the first time. For a moment a lost expression slips over him but he twitches his head as if shaking off the expression.

He shifts where he sits, working out small kinks. ]

I made sure of that.

[nehnahlmey]

[Something fleeting touches the face looking back, and the creature only continues his watching.

Nehnahlmey resorts to silence.]

[dovahfahdon]

[ Eventually Alain shifts enough to work out the pain in his joints, and puts a hand on the ground to help him stand. Something cracks as he shifts to stand, and perhaps it shows how long he has been here, in the stiffness of his movements, in the distinct lack of grace of his motions. It is a side of the Dragonborn never seen, for Alain is in perfect shape and always in motion. This has been the longest period of time that he has not.

And he has never remained in one place for so long without anything else.

He touches his back and shifts to crack it, does the same to his neck. Finally when all is completed, he returns to keeping Niall's gaze. ]

[nehnahlmey]

[Alain shifts, cracking joints and stretching limbs in a meticulous manner. The one called Niall watches. Only ever watches.

Finally:]

How long?

[How long has Alain stayed?]

[dovahfahdon]

[ Again something crosses his expression. This time Alain nods. ]

You had left me for nearly half a year before I found this place. I have been here for--

[ He stops. Looks unsure of himself. It is a look very unlike him. ]

...A little over a month. I think.

[nehnahlmey]

[Near six months gone. Seven, with the addendum. The facts are beginning to piece together.

Especially as Alain lets an uncommon expression slip.]

I 'left' you.

[Are the light words.]

I have left you. You have left me. We have departed from each other's company again and again. Why does this particular instance unsettle you enough to trap yourself here?

[dovahfahdon]

[ He can still not think clearly. It has been too long, with too little. And the dragon's tones--Ah. He has never thought to hear them again. ]

You did not intend to return.

[ It comes out, something unvoiced and never given thought, but something that reeks of sense, of motive. It comes out, what he had not meant to say.

He had been raised to keep his thoughts--feelings, emotions--to his chest. They stumble out, reeling and fumbling. ]

Not since--Windhelm--

[ And the word is coughed out, harsh. ]

--Have you been gone for so long. Never as long as that, not since then.

[ And he was foolish, to think it an unsaid promise. ]

And then I came across this cave--

[ Alain's eyes widen suddenly; show wild around the whites. His arm moves jerkily, encompassing the region. ]

--And you were here.

[ Gone before his eyes. ]

And you would never return to me. Not like that. But I would wait. I would stay here and wait.

[ For Niall to wake or for Alain to fall to starvation or despair, but he would remain.

Trapped with the remains of his half-heart. ]

[nehnahlmey]

[Windhelm. To believe they had abandoned all reference to that place-- How foolish. How appropriate for a neh-nahl-mey.

A stone sits in the pit of the dragon's stomach, growing more substantial as Alain continues. Yet, Nehnahlmey does not cease his watch.

He keeps all eyes on the man. The dragon's thoughts flow easily into speech, unlike the other.]

I would have returned to you.

[Given time.]

[dovahfahdon]

[ Alain laughs outright, and it is rough and coarse; madness echoes, resounding from another's soul. The sound is ill-humor and mourning and-- ]

You wouldn't.

[ It's said almost pleasantly, a resigned smile perched on Alain's lips. ]

I understand now. That difference between us. It's always been... Time, hasn't it? Surely, you'd come back to me Niall.

[ And that is said almost comfortingly, something that had been thought weeks before. ]

But I would no longer be around.

[nehnahlmey]

[Nehnahlmey breathes in, eyes blinking rapidly through the haze.

Time exists just out of a dragon's reach so why is Alain--

Why does he--]

You would be here.

[The dragon stills, realizing he has spoken.]

[dovahfahdon]

[ He watches Niall for a minute, then smiles with a vicious edge. ]

My bones would be.

[nehnahlmey]

[There is a beat, a moment passing like an eternity, and Nehnahlmey cannot rightly describe what is dying in his chest.

What emotion is rising from the depths of his being.]

You would rot.

[Turn to dust.]

You hold no faith in me.

[dovahfahdon]

[ It is quick, that burst of emotion in his chest, that heat flaring where only ice had dwelt. It is rage and pain and something altogether different that makes him step forward, makes the words scream out to the hollow hole in the earth. ]

How many times-- How many times have you told me of how long you've slept before?! Of this sleep of dragons-- Sleep that spans years and centuries both!

[ The words are spit out, thrown to the ground between them. ]

You were done with me.

[ And the words are saturated in loss. He laughs again, bitterly. ]

Rot? Look at me--

[ At the tattered ruin of a man pressed into a cave with his greatest fear-- At the skin and bones he is made of now, of the loss of weight, of muscle, of reflexes-- Of the dark thick around his eyes and the lines etching their way across his face. At the death in his eyes. ]

I've already begun to rot!

[nehnahlmey]

[This sleep of dragons... It is never meant to be a finality. Nehnahlmey slept away his rage (his pain); it is nothing so dramatic as abandonment.

Yet, here, Alain would be contrary. He would scream to the earth as if his bones have already mingled with it.

And the dragon, that creature caged outside of time, cannot stand to hear it. This talk of death.]

Diivon hin rot.

[Swallow your words, is the growl.]

[dovahfahdon]

[ Swallow your words.

--Except that's not what Niall says at all, and Alain is giggling helplessly as something becomes disjointed in the forefront of his gray matter. ]

My words?

[ He manages, chortling. ]

Yes, true: My words are rot. My rot are rotting along with everything else.

[nehnahlmey]

[He hates wordplay. Beyond this insanity, Nehnahlmey hates--

This. All of this.

The creature has already warned the man once, a kindness from a dovah lacking patience. He takes it as permission to move and sweeps a wing across with the purpose of knocking Alain off his feet. To then pin the man to the ground with the same limb, to keep him still from his laughter.]

Enough.

[dovahfahdon]

[ His words seem to have an effect, and before Alain can think (as if he was) or act, he finds himself struck quite readily to the ground. That would be enough, and he is already coughing from the force of it, but what struck him presses against him, holds him to the ground with no chance of movement and he recognizes Niall's wing now--

"Enough."

--What once had wrapped around him in companionship, in warmth, in possessive protection, and in his loneliest loneliness, he would only admit to himself how much he loved that, how much he loved sitting against the dragon beneath his wing, in warm companionable protection, and how he had thought--

There is a wretched sound in the air, a choking, miserable sound, and all Alain can think of is that Niall had been so cold when Alain found him. Niall has always been so warm, always so alive, and he had been so cold--

Alain continues to cry without realizing, continues to wonder if all of this is his mind snapping and giving him what he desires only to wrench it away, and his hands scramble upward grasping, grabbing, at the limb pinning him, holding tightly, tightly tightly, as if he lets go, all else will end.

All else would end. ]

[nehnahlmey]

[In the depths of that cavern, separated from the passage of time and yet together with an existence he wants and cannot stand in the same breath, Nehnahlmey expects a great many things. Rage, mistrust, jealousy... These are a constant, a way of persisting among the sparse moments of camaraderie and intimacy. He anticipates one or the other, an extreme and its opposite.

Not mourning.

The creature stills, body frozen in the echoes and mind unable to decipher the image and the sounds before him. Save for one indisputable fact. One little discrepancy.

Never has Nehnahlmey heard pain of loss from Alain. Never has Alain held on so tightly as to not let go.

A beat passes before the dragon murmurs in a native tongue hardly recognized.]

Zu'u het. Zu'u fen ni gruth dii lahney.

[I am here. I will not betray my life.]

[dovahfahdon]

[ There is a low intonation somewhere above his head, and even as his mind tries to tell him otherwise, his essence knows the language well. Easily knows enough to translate, to communicate, despite all of his claims otherwise. The low sound pulses within him, and somewhere, he makes out sense and sanity.

Makes a small effort to regain his breath. ]

Hin laas? Neh nahl los hin.

[ Your life? Never living is yours.

Alain breathes heavily, and tries to look at the dragon. ]

Zu'u folaas?

[ Am I wrong?

He suddenly struggles, pressing upward. ]

Tell me!

[nehnahlmey]

[Hearing the language of his blood should distract him. Take him away from this trembling wreck of a man and his seemingly inane questions.

The dragon only answers, body still despite the movements beneath him.]

Folaas, Dovahkiin.

[You are completely wrong.]

Zu'u lost siiv dii lahney ko Alain.

[I have found my life in you.]

[dovahfahdon]

[ The words are not to be taken. They are not to be kept.

This is a dragon, not a person, and yet what does Alain know of people? Only that they are not to be trusted, that they are capable of the greatest betrayals and sins, be them Man or Mer. Mayhaps a dragon would be a better choice.

But this is a dragon, outside of time. Niall would tire of him, forget about him like he had here, and Alain would be left alone. What would happen when that eventually came? When Niall eventually flew off and did not return?

But this is a dragon, cursed by his brethren to be a fool who does not know life or living. A dragon that lacks the aspects that call to that for Men, Mer, and Dov--desire, possession, and ambition. But Alain has always said differently, for Niall has shown him differently. The dragon is a curious creature, insatiable on certain subjects, and not easily put off of others. He is stubborn, strong-headed, clever, intelligent, coy, infuriating.... All things that make Alain irritated; all things that he would wish for in a companion.

A dragon, cursed by his brethren to be a fool who does not know life or living, and Alain still knows it to be true regardless. He has seen other dragons interact with Niall like something strange, irregular or diseased. Something that lacks, something that some resent for the power that he still holds. This is not a blood dragon missing pieces, but a legendary one, and it grates at them, Alain knows it; it grates that this non-dragon is superior to most in power.

A dragon who does not know life or living, who claims Alain as his own.

It should be rejected. The words are not to be taken. Not to be kept. Alain knows this, knows it well. Knows that to accept the words means he will give a part of himself away. That is nothing wanted. Not at all. He knows this. He knows it well.

But he has sat by himself for over a month now. He has sat in a cave that housed the silent body of the being that he respects most--desires most--cares for most. He has sat by himself for over a month now, and has allowed himself to slip and fall in the mental cracks, for he did not expect--

Alain did not think that this would have an ending other than death. He had set himself to death for the lack of this dragon, despite all of Alain's dreams and ambitions. Alain gave in to dying without Niall.

He stills, hands still on the wing pinning him. Fingers tracing nothing against flesh. He watches his fingers move, trace with abandon, and he starts, jolts, then stills again. ]

Then you can't--

[ He says suddenly, out of nowhere. His wide eyes blink in confusion at his speech, then he closes his eyes, goes slack.

Continues the words he had begun to say on instinct. ]

...You can't leave me. You can't ever leave me. You can't go away.