A/N: Guess what? My computer's hard drive got fried. BUT the tech guy was able to get my files off it. Well, some of them, not all. I lost some things, but nothing essential. It DOES mean that I have to re-mod literally all my games on this new computer (my mom's old laptop). Ironically enough this one is more powerful than my old one, which means that I can play ESO! I haven't gotten too far, but I was having a blast mucking about in Khenarthi's Roost. So pretty.

"For the mighty roars of the beasts, even when those roars contained fire, or ice, or some other deadly magic, were actually much more - they were words. Words in an ancient, though decipherable, tongue."

– Dragon Language: Myth no More

[Chapter 04: Dragon Rising]

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The mage babbled on as they made their way up to the second level of Dragonsreach, asking a dozen or so inane questions that made Mana consider whether or not to smack him over the head with her armoured fist. Thankfully the Dunmer told him to shut his mouth.

Anticipation crawled down her spine, and Mana was glad she was still in her armour, or else the way her fur was standing on end would have been obvious. It was telling enough that her tail was lashing in agitation – the thought of facing another dragon making her gut twist.

For all her joking, and for all of her companion's eagerness for glory, Mana was nervous about the upcoming fight. The others hadn't seen what that dragon had done to Helgen, the single-minded destruction, the rage and fire. Dragons were not monsters to be slain by noble heroes, like Alaya seemed to be thinking, nor were they beasts to be put down when they became threats. They were forces of nature, and should be respected and feared as such.

Every culture had stories about the dragons and the terror they posed. Out of all the stories she had heard during her travels, the arrogance of men and mer was never ending. In her youth preserved legends impressed upon her that these proud beings were an integral part of the world, great predators, and should not be provoked. Of course those legends had been used to teach the importance of knowing one's standing in the universe; no one had expected that the dragons would return.

Mortal races had long forgotten the truth of dragons, and they were far from prepared to deal with them now, as was made abundantly clear by the Nords in front of her. Mana knew if she was in charge, she would have had them abandon that tower and hunker down underground. So maybe it was a good thing she wasn't in charge after all, but still. Her priority was living.

Which didn't explain why she had agreed to investigate said tower. Maybe the high altitude was getting to her after all.

Mana's childhood, while not peaceful, had been luxurious.

The city of Torval was near the border of Valenwood. They had borrowed Bosmeri building techniques to create a sprawling, multi-tiered city in the thick jungle. She had been born into one of the rich merchant clans, affording her opportunities few could claim to have. Despite all of this, the moment she became an adult, Mana had packed her bags and left.

Nothing tragic had happened in her family. They had even asked her to stay. She had loved them all very much, and was heartbroken to leave. Mana couldn't stand another day there all the same – because while Torval had been beautiful, and her family was likely still waiting for her to return, it hadn't felt like home.

It was difficult to see the sky in the Tenmar Forest.

Something about the jungle made her feel closed in and slightly claustrophobic. The stress of being contained had made Mana a very grumpy child. For years the only thing she had wished was to be able to leave, and once she had gotten her wish she had cast aside everything from her childhood to escape.

The only link back to Torval had been her brother Azsha. They weren't actually littermates, rather cousins in the same clan, but had been raised together. He had not wanted her to go alone and insisted on coming with her, and for a long time it was just the two of them.

A year ago, they had gotten into a huge fight. Azsha had wanted to go home and see their family again, stop traveling now that their youth was behind them, settle down even. He wanted to find someone and have a family. Mana did not.

They had shouted until their throats were raw, and then went their separate ways. Azsha had probably joined a caravan heading south, while she made her way north. They were literally on opposite sides of the continent.

Mana couldn't help but think about some of the awful things she had said to Azsha the last time they met, as Irileth spoke with her soldiers. It would be a poor way to apologize to be eaten by a dragon. She had intended to go back eventually and make up with him, but she couldn't do that dead.

So she would just have to kill the dragon first.

Mana kept her bow poised as she and Alaya slunk towards the watchtower. The paladin was guarding her back, her own bow in hand so they wouldn't be taken by surprise. Smoke and ash was on the wind, the scent of burnt flesh now hauntingly familiar to the Khajiit.

"It's so dark, I can't see anything," Alaya muttered from behind her.

The Khajiit couldn't help but roll her eyes. Humans had terrible night vision. While her own wasn't perfect, it was much better than her friend's. The embers were helpful in that they provided some light, and it was a clear night so the ground was bathed in silvery moonlight. To her, it was almost as good as day time.

As they made their way up the bridge to the tower, a guard came rushing out. He was pale and sweaty, eyes darting around the sky as he searched for wings in the night – terrified, in short.

Alaya rushed to his side as Mana glanced at his sword skeptically. Did he really plan to defend himself against a dragon with a short-range weapon?

"Are you alright?" the healer asked in concern, magic lighting up her fingers.

"No, there's no time!" the guard snapped at her, glancing over his shoulder at the tower, "It's still here somewhere! Hroki and Tor just got grabbed when they tried to make a run for it!"

Alaya looked back at the Khajiit, her face stern, "It's picking them off one by one."

"My thoughts exactly," Mana rumbled, "Go into the tower, heal anyone who is injured. You can attack from the windows – aim for his wings, try to ground him."

"Right," she nodded.

The guard began to tremble, "Kynareth save us, here he comes again!"

A roar echoed through the valley, causing everyone to flinch. "Find cover and make every arrow count!" she heard Irileth shout. Mana whipped her head around, just in time to see the dragon swoop past the tower, wind buffeting those on the bridge as he beat his powerful wings.

He gave a great bellowing roar that shook the earth. Mana could make out pale scales shining with moonlight, bright yellow eyes burning in the darkness. His streamlined body was smooth and cut through the air with ease, like the lord of sky that he was.

This was not the black dragon from Helgen.

Mana bit back a hiss of sudden anger, knocking an arrow as he dipped and circled the tower, bellowing fire so the grass around them burned. A few of the guards on the ground scattered, yelling and ducking behind chunks of stone that had been knocked from the tower.

The dragon's voice became louder, enough that she could hear him speak. "Thuri du hin sil ko Sovngarde!"He wheeled around the tower another time. Mana took a breath, waiting for the time to strike. It came as he stopped his glide, hovering in place with strong down-strokes. She let the arrow fly along with a dozen from the other guards.

Most of the arrows bounced harmlessly off his scales, though a few ripped through the thin membrane of his wings. The dragon shook his head and pushed himself forward, flying too fast for them to get a hit in.

"Krif krin. Pruzah!"

He was laughing at them.

Mana jumped from the bridge, landing between some of the stones. She pressed her back to one and drew another arrow as the dragon swooped overhead, roar shaking her body down to the bones. She narrowed her eyes as another burst of firelight nearly blinded her.

When the fire died, she leapt out of her cover and shot the arrow towards the underside of his wings. He shook all of them off, swinging his massive head towards where she was ducking behind another stone.

The dragon only seemed amused and shot another blast of concentrated flame towards a guard that hadn't hid in time. Mana flinched as the man's death screams were cut short.

The Khajiit nearly jumped out of her skin as Irileth's back hit the stone next to her. The Dunmer was breathing harshly, red eyes alight with adrenaline and fury. "That damn dragon is mocking us," Irileth growled.

"Brit grah. I had forgotten what fine sport you mortals can provide!" the dragon spoke as though he had heard her.

Both of their attention was drawn to the watchtower as several guards came howling out, weapons drawn. Irritation prickled at her – were they trying to get themselves killed, drawing attention to themselves like that? Idiot Nords.

Sure enough, the dragon zeroed in on them. He hovered in front of them, teeth bared in pleasure. "You are brave. Bahlaan hokoron."

Irileth hauled herself up so she was visible over the stone. "Now!" she shouted.

A volley of arrows screamed through the night air, causing the dragon to screech as they tore through his wings. He tried to fly back into the air and out of range, but the tearing was significant enough that he was drawn back down. Mana watched as he collided with the top of the tower, loose stones falling to the ground as his claws and injured wings scratched against its surface.

Mana jumped to action, unmindful of Irileth's shout for her to stop, and sprinted back up the bridge of the watchtower, discarding her bow and drawing her blade as she went. The tower shook as she made her way up the stairs two at a time.

In the floor below the roof she met Alaya, who also had her weapon drawn. The Breton looked surprised to see her there and opened her mouth to say something.

"Mana will keep his focus! Keep your shield raised and attack his wings!" she barked at the paladin, whose jaw snapped shut with a click. Her blue eyes became steely as she nodded. "Stay clear of his tail," Mana added as the tower trembled again, dust raining down on them. Screams and the smell of fire tore through the dark.

The Khajiit's grip tightened on the hilt of her sword, eyes narrowing to slits as she made her way onto the roof, keeping low to the ground so the dragon wouldn't see her immediately. She watched as he took one of the remaining guards into his mouth, teeth clamping down over the man's head and torso, and whipped him side to side violently before flinging him off the roof.

Embers and ash floated through the air around her as she sprinted forward, blade poised and aimed towards the fleshy patch of skin between the thick scales on the top and bottom of his neck. It sunk through with little resistance. A fine mist of blood sprayed her in the face, the sharp smell of blood filling her nose.

The dragon roared and thrashed his neck. Mana avoided the thick column of muscle by rolling under his throat, aiming at the underside as she went. The second cut wasn't as deep as the first, but it still got past the dragon's natural defenses. She would have thought that dragonskin would be able to deflect simple steel, but at this point in time it didn't occur to her, nor would she have cared.

Mana heard a yell over the dragon's screeching and caught a glimpse of Alaya smashing her mace down on the junction of bones that made up his wrist. He sneered and tried to knock her off the roof with his wing, but Alaya managed to dodge at the last second, deflecting the blow with her shield. This gave Mana an opening, and she slashed at his right eye, more blood spraying from the wound.

The dragon's head swung back around to her. His neck constricted, air rushing into his lungs. "Yol Toor Shul!" the dragon Shouted, fire spilling off his tongue and towards the Khajiit. She raised her shield to take the brunt of it, hiding her head behind the cover while her armor took the rest. The inferno seemed to roll off her – as though she was a stone in the middle of a river of flame.

Just as the metal encasing her body began to heat, the dragon snapped his jaw shut. Alaya had charged in bellowing a war cry, and smashed him over the snout, right in the nose. Sparks erupted from his windpipe, but before he could get his bearings again, which would be difficult with the wound in his eye, Mana dove under his chin and thrust her sword up and into his windpipe.

Her sword vibrated as the dragon keened in pain. She hitched it and slashed forward, sending blood splattering onto the stone.

"Dovahkiin?! NO!" he shrieked, staggering. Alaya dove in and pushed them out of the way as the dragon thrashed in agony, gurgling and hissing.

Blood poured onto the ground as the dragon spasmed, and then fell still. Mana watched it with wide eyes as the body seemed to bleed magic and life into the air. Alaya's hands gripped her arms, her own blue eyes locked onto the corpse in awe and disbelief.

Mana let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. The dragon was dead. They were alive. They had won.

There was a sudden surge of energy, filling the air around them with the taste of ozone and magic. The two warriors stilled, fearing that the dragon would rise again and extract revenge. Instead, his scales began to glow the colour of burnished gold, and melted.

The Khajiit gasped as the fire-bright magic rose from the dragon's bones, and into her. The light burned like fire and ice, filling her ears with a terrible howling, the violent chattering of thousands of voices pressing against the inside of her skull.

Mana screamed.

Her breath caught in her throat, hot air pluming in the chilled night as the fever rose. The core of her body felt like a furnace, where the light was pooling like oil. Mana could hear ancient voices chanting as she trembled.

The Khajiit's vision blurred. Her sense of time and space distorted as powerful images came to her, of burning skies and falling stars. She was carving through the night sky as her brethren fell one by one around her. Rage and grief consumed her from the inside – a dark insidious hole in her ribcage that could only be filled with blood.

Something brushed against her, the part of her that was convulsing in pain and fear. It was primal and timeless, familiar in a way that made her body shake. He was Mirmulnir, and his soul curled around her own, their thoughts and emotions blending.

'Release me,' he whispered to her, 'Use the Word to focus.'

What word? She wanted to ask. It was difficult to concentrate inside the eye of the storm. Part of her wanted to surrender to it, lose herself and cast aside physical reality. Memories were slipping through her fingers; she was forgetting who she was.

'Fus,' the dragon rumbled, Voice like rolling thunder.

'Fus,' she repeated, an echo of memory returning.

'No, Dovahkiin, Fus,' said Mirmulnir.

The word resonated with her soul. It was the word from the wall, the one that had branded itself into her mind. A sense of understanding overcame her like an epiphany, though she sensed it was Mirmulnir sharing his knowledge with her.

'FUS.'

The gale began to recede. Her physical senses began to return to her. She could feel her body being shaken, the voice of the Breton woman shouting in her ear.

"Mana! Mana can you hear me!"

That's right ... her name was Mana. But something felt wrong about it.

'Good,' the dragon hissed to her, 'Now release me!'

A sudden stab of panic shot through her heart, 'No! Don't leave me!'

Mirmulnir gave a rumbling laugh, cruelly amused, 'Oh we will meet again, Dovahkiin, when Alduin devours you. Then he will eat this world, and all of us will rejoin Bormahu.'

A shiver of unease passed down her spine, like a rush of cold water. Alduin...

'Now let me go!' he roared.

Mana pushed, and Mirmulnir began to fade, separating their minds and souls. Sight and sound returned all at once, leaving her gasping for air. Alaya gave a surprised yell and threw her arms around her neck. "Oh thank Talos!" she cried.

The Khajiit swallowed, ears still ringing. "...Alaya?" she breathed, and then froze. Her breath felt heavier, charged like lightning.

"Don't scare me like that!" the Breton said angrily, separating them. Mana blinked at her in confusion, before glancing at Mirmulnir's remains. The dragon was nothing more than a skeleton now. Something about it unsettled her, and she looked back towards her friend. "What happened?" Alaya asked.

Mana swallowed. "Khajiit doesn't know..." she croaked. Her throat was raw and ached.

They were interrupted by the remaining guards clambering onto the roof. They eyed Mana in wary surprise, some of them cursing at the dragon's remains. Irileth followed them closely, her face set into a scowl.

"By the Nine," one of the guards said to her, "You're Dragonborn..."

"What?" Alaya looked at the man like he had lost his mind, "What do you mean?"

"Mana would like to know that too," the Khajiit added, dazed.

"There are legends of heroes who killed dragons and stole their power," the man said, glancing back at the dragon nervously, "That's what you did, right?"

Mana frowned, narrowing her eyes. She struggled to her feet, Alaya helping her up. "Stole his power?" she hissed, "What does that mean?"

"Try to Shout, then!" said the guard, "If you really are Dragonborn, then you will know how."

Alaya started to dig into the man, reprimanding him for bothering Mana when she was clearly shaken from the fight. Mana took a few steps back from the arguing humans, looking around at the still smoking battlefield. It would be a while before the tower was usable again.

Mana didn't quite understand what he had meant by Shouting, but at the same time she knew exactly what he meant. She thought about the Word, felt it rising up through her chest to rest on her tongue. It felt different this time, like if she released it the world would part for her.

She took in a deep breath, turning towards the edge of the tower, and when she breathed out she Shouted. "FUS!" The air shook, causing everyone on the roof besides her to stumble. They all stared at her.

"Stendar's mercy," Alaya whispered.

The guard she had been arguing with laughed. "You really are Dragonborn!"

They started to bicker again, dragging in Irileth, who had been watching Mana with a mix of curiosity and suspicion.

Mana went quiet. Her soul hummed. It felt like she had found something she had been missing her whole life. For once, the restlessness that had been following her was gone. If she were honest, it scared her a little, though the feeling of rightness overruled it.

What did this mean though? What had Mirmulnir meant? Who was Alduin, what was he trying to accomplish, and why did if fill her with this horrible sense of dread?

Why did it feel like she was forgetting something important?

A/N: So, more headcanon time! Well, they're more like facts about this AU, and they're essential to the story either way. One: dragons are genderless, but typically use masculine pronouns when applicable. Two: all dragons are 'born' from a spark of Akatosh's power, which makes them immortal, semi-divine beings despite having physical forms. When they are 'devoured' the one eating their soul takes that power, but their actual souls and consciousnesses are released and become one with Akatosh again.

I learned during research that all dragons have this perk that halves damage from everyone except the player, which was neat. That's why Mana's slashes were effective, when arrows had bounced off Mirmulnir's scales.

Speaking of Mirmulnir, he can appear as pretty much any base game dragon depending on your level when you fight him. So he can show up as a blood dragon, a frost dragon, an elder dragon, etc. Mana isn't a novice, but this IS her first dragon fight, and the story doesn't exactly have a 'leveling' system lol. Mirmulnir was also one of the few dragons that wasn't killed by the Blades – he was alive the whole time, making him nearly as old as Paarthurnax, though I do believe he went into hiding, possibly hibernation. So I described his scales a little differently than I would an average dragon (brown scales). Also, I wanted to give him a bigger role in the story not only because he's the first dragon Mana kills, but because he is one of the few dragons in Skyrim that has a proper name. And I really like his name too lol.

I technically already wrote the dragon fight in Winter Nights, but this time I wanted to go into more detail, really flesh out what happened. How I do the scene is different in that story, but this one is the 'canon' version for this 'verse. It was pretty awesome to write.

Translations:
Thuri du hin sil ko Sovngarde! – (my) overlord will devour your souls in Sovngarde!
Krif krin. Pruzah! – Fight courageously. Good!
Brit grah – beautiful battle
Bahlaan hokoron – worthy enemies / your defeat brings me honor
Bormahu – (our) father