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“ Oh-dah-viing! ”
The name, the shout, the call, had become familiar to Tawny’s tongue. Odahviing, one of her first dragon allies, was subsequently one of her first and best friends. The two’s size, their difference in experience, their difference in appearance, all their differences put nothing inbetween them. After all, they were both dragons, weren’t they? Even if Tawny was only a dragon in spirit. Ayera was always the last dragonborn, defeater of Alduin, but never a person; not to the people of Skyrim.
Odahviing was different. He understood her, her love of the sky, how her soul was too big for her body. She just wanted to be in the lok, to feel alive again, to have the wind in her scales and relight the fires in her heart. While her soul belonged to the sky, her heart belonged to the people of Nirn. She wished she could stay in the sky for years unending, never to land. But instead, she was human, with human attachments, and even more had responsibilities here on the ground as a Thane and as a hero.
She smiled and shook off the thoughts as the red dragon roared above, circling in the sky and searching for a place to land. She waved up at him, scaled tail wagging.
“Drem yol lok, dovahkiin.” The dragon greeted as it landed, causing the ground to tremble. Tawny could never gauge his expression, as dragons didn’t smile or frown, but his voice was the opposite.
“Drem yol lok, fahdon!” She purred, reaching up on her toes to rub her head against the side of the dragon’s maw. The khajiit knew very well how dangerous that was, with any other dragon, but with Odahviing she felt safe.
The wyvern chuckled best a dragon could, more like a low, shifting rumble, and lowered his head to let the smaller creature drop back comfortably to her feet. “Greetings, briinah- sister. Why do you bring me here?”
Tawny chuckled in embarrassment, looking away to hide her face, though she doubted Odahviing would’ve known how to read it. “It’s… kind of dumb. I was just wondering if we could go flying today. I’ve really been missing the sky lately. It’s weird how you can miss something you’ve never had, geh?”
“Geh, yes.” He agreed. “Zu’u lost neh mindok nii, I have never known it. But I imagine it is faaz, painful, geh?”
Her green eyes flashed with the emotions of the creatures in her mind. “Geh. There is no better word. It feels every day as if my soul grows bigger, while my slen, flesh, grows smaller. I feel trapped, fahdon.”
The beast titled its head, as if in thought. She had always appreciated how heard she felt around the dov. They always seemed to listen to whatever words she may say, and after would always have something to reply. It was easier with them than with people, and easier with Odahviing, and sometimes Paarthurnax, than anyone.
“Briinah, bo wah zu’u. Fly with me.”
She perked up at the words. Her wyvern ally had always been sympathetic to her, and even better, had all the best thoughts while his wings were beating. She was quick to climb up onto his log-sized neck, using the horns on his jaw as step ups. The wyvern seemed not to mind, lifting his head once she was on to help her slide into the comfy dip between his neck and wings before he took off, strong wings throwing them into the air.
Tawny took a deep breath in, the crisp, cold air of Skyrim’s sky filling her lungs. It was only ever when she was up here that she felt at home, that she felt she was where she was supposed to be. It was as if the pressure of her spirit pressing against the inside her skin was relieved, as if up here it could spread its colossal wings. When she let out the breath sparks came flying with it, the air hot from her own heat.
“How is your spirit, briinah?” The dragon asked, sensing her relax atop his scales. “Does it feel the lok? Can you feel its su’um?”
“Geh.” She confirmed. “I feel its breath. My breath. Thank you, friend. I missed being up here.”
The dragon rumbled, rolling in the air- but his small friend didn’t fall. “Pruzah, good. You are a dovah, ziil los mul, hin slen los zah. Your soul is strong, but your body is mortal. Mal, small. You will live far past the loss of your slen, briinah. Lost drem.”
“Have patience.” She translated, closing her eyes. “60 more years seems like a lot of time to be stuck in a body that is not my own. And before you say it- I know that it’s only a blink in the time of eternity. But could you imagine being stuck under dragonrend for eighty years? I feel like that’s what it is. I’m a dragon, a dov, forced to be mortal, forced to be connected only to the ground, separated from Akatosh.”
For once, Odahviing fell silent. The dovah had only once been trapped under the curse of dragonrend, and he hoped to never be again. The dov are not meant to be mortal, they are the blood of a god on Nirn. They are meant to be immortal, eternal, all the things opposite of the joorre, the mortals. “You are wise for your age, dovahkiin. I now understand. Wo los hi, who are you? You are joor turned dovah, dovah without her father’s blood. Zu’u drun lok. I bring you to the sky. Little sister, I am your wings. For you would be mine, if we were instead each other.”
Tawny blinked, feeling her chest grow warm. Yes; Odahviing was her wings. But Despite all that divided them, he was also her friend. She rolled her eyes. She was always surprised a dragon understood her so well, until she remembered she was a dov. She smiled again, feeling lighter. “Geh. I would be. Thank you, zeymah. Brother.”