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The story of how Fahdonmul defeated Alduin in the Dragonborn's absence continues - it will run to eight chapters.
This chapter is heavily based on my video "Fahdonmul's Destiny" because yes, this story is trying to take the storylines from those videos and weave them into a more consistent narrative.
Icon art by
den-99
While Sweet-Roll-Devour is my creation, I owe a lot to an anonymous contributor writing a fanfic about him, which helped gel his personality. Skyrim and its characters are property of Bethesda, of course.
=================
Chapter 4 - Parental Permission
"I am sorry to have sullied your meditation retreat with the blood of a fellow dovah," Fahdonmul sighed, looking at the red patch where Alduin had crash-landed. "But he would have defiled it with our blood otherwise."
"'Speak only in true need,'" Paarthurnax quoted. "The Way of the Voice allows for self-defence."
"How did you even do that?!" Sweet-Roll-Devour asked, looking astonished. "Alduin is special! No-one can harm him! Bormahu made sure of that!"
"Back in the olden times," Fahdonmul said. "Lazing in a palace, being given scritches by adoring kaazze... This was a good life, but I also needed something more... psychologically fulfilling. We were made to conquer... to better ourselves. I made a study of magics, enchantments and alchemy.
"Others of our kind sneered at this, for we were kings over men, sky-lords. Almost gods. But I knew that these good times would not last and began to prepare for the worst.
"I learned to change my form and pose as a kaaz. I taught myself to craft artifacts of tremendous power, and enchantments beyond anything a mortal could achieve.
"And with this skill, I made a charm that protects me, and sharpens my teeth and claws by many millions of times. Alduin himself sneered at me for playing with such toys like a mortal child. But he is not laughing now, is he?"
"If more of us had forged such artifacts, our race might not be in such a perilous position now," Paarthurnax said. "But maybe our pride and disdain against those who do... perhaps Bormahu wanted that pride to keep our kind in check."
Fahdonmul craned his neck to look at the refugee dragon. "What is your name, anyway?" he asked.
"I do not trust you," the dragon returned suspiciously. "With that knowledge, you could tear the ziil from my body and consume it! By knowing my true name, you could destroy me utterly!"
"I rescued you!" Fahdonmul snapped. "At great personal risk - I used an Elder Scroll to save you from certain death at the hands of those crazy dovahkriivaanne!"
"They were my friends once," Paarthurnax reminded him.
"I do not know what you saved me for!" the dragon said, looking anxious. "You may have saved me for later! You might want to parade me before your allies and execute me as an example... To show them what fate awaits those who willingly served Alduin!
"You might have felt my ziil was wasted if I was slain by mere mortals, and that you deserve to consume me to become stronger! You will need all the strength you can get to face Alduin..."
"Why do you think I would even want to do that?" Fahdonmul looked appalled. "Is this what servitude to Alduin has done to you...?"
"We are dov," the refugee dragon said. "We seek power. There is power in the murder of another dovah. Some would eat the last of our race if that would help them conquer. But it is also true that we are individuals and some may value power more than others..."
"Power is good," Fahdonmul said. "But not at that price. I seek to preserve our race, if I can... To save as many of us as possible, for as long as possible. If that means making peace with mortals, then that is what I shall attempt. Eliminating members of my own race is the opposite of what I am trying to achieve here!"
"That is why you saved me, even though I rooted for Alduin?" the refugee dragon asked hopefully.
"Yes," Fahdonmul said. "Do not mistake me - I do have power. I could have cut a swathe through all those who serve Alduin, and devoured the ziil of countless foes.
"But I am powerful enough that I do not need to stoop to such barbaric measures. And besides, our race is threatened by the mortals. I want as many of us as possible to survive these coming days. We are dov," he said. "And that also means we need each others' company or we can go mad from loneliness."
"The mortals will not accept a truce," Sweet-Roll-Devour said. "Nords despise us still, after the Dragon Wars. The Akaviri have poisoned our name well..."
"Nords are racists," Fahdonmul pointed out. "They force the kaaz traders to remain outside their cities. In Windhelm they do not let the Argonian dockworkers sleep within the city, they must stay outside in the freezing cold.
"But not all mortals are so petty. In the dark times after your little-death, fearing the Blades, some among the last dov sought alliances to protect themselves. They sided with mortals and fought for kings, fought for the Emperor himself, much to the disgust of the Blades.
"And now the Blades have been disbanded, if a faction of dragons were to approach the Imperials in secret, offering our protection and aid when the inevitable Thalmor betrayal occurs, I think they would be very interested."
"I do not approve of our kind being weaponised," Paarthurnax said. "The Way of the Voice is to promote peace and understanding, not war."
"Not all dov have the discipline to learn such self-control," Fahdonmul pointed out. "I wear enchantments to calm my urge to conquer, and I will provide those to others who wish to reach an accord with the mortals but have not the strength of will to learn the Way of the Voice. There is room for both paths - if nothing else, enchantments will buy them the time they need to learn the Way, for they will not get the chance if they anger the mortals and are slain before they can learn peaceful coexistence."
"Still," Fahdonmul added, "This is all just wind right now, putting the cart before the horse, as mortals say. First I must face Alduin - and if I fall to him, he will conquer all, and his incompetence will ruin the whole world. But... If I somehow succeed in vanquishing him, then I will push for a truce. Even the Nords must surely listen to a victor over Alduin."
"Why do you disturb my meditations, Volaan?" the Elder Dragon of Skyborn Altar demanded as Fahdonmul approached his lair. "Are you here for the word-wall...?" he asked suspiciously. "My hoard...?"
"Wasn't there a shrine to Our Father here...?" Fahdonmul asked.
"It is being repaired," the dragon answered grimly. "Some... joor painted googly eyes on Father Akatosh!" he wailed, sounding anguished. Fahdonmul glanced to the side of the word-wall, where a Nord lay dead and broken, blood liberally splashed across the stone.
"Oh," he sighed dejectedly. "I wanted to pray for victory against Alduin..."
"Oh!" the Elder Dragon perked up visibly. "I think there is one near Rorikhofkah. And listen... good luck against Alduin. He's a punk and he's gonna get us all killed."
"Thank you, zeymah!" Fahdonmul replied, and took to the skies, the Elder Dragon craning his neck to watch as the smaller dragon flew away.
"Ruth!" Fahdonmul cursed as he approached the shrine at Rorikhofkah. He was not in a good mood as Nahagliiv had clearly incinerated someone on the road running through the town, and while the other dragon had been adamant that he had been attacked first and it was self-defence, Fahdonmul knew that the Jarl would not see things the same way. Still, he had to admit that the civilians, even their cattle, were safe and sound - Nahagliiv had apparently kept the oath to his new Thuri.
And now the shrine itself was proving to be a problem. Such things were designed to bless the user when touched by a hand, but being a wyvern, Fahdonmul couldn't quite reach the effigy of his creator. He had tried nose-booping it and even licking the thing, but this apparently did not find favour with his god, and with the shrine tucked up against a gigantic monolith, he was unable to get close enough to touch it with his feet.
At length he gave up and flew to another shrine, this time in Falkreath hold, but while it had been placed high up as if for a dragon to reach, the architects had sheltered it within a stone canopy which again, prevented him from reaching the object of worship.
"Why would you do this?!" he spluttered with rage. "Why would you put a shrine to the dragon god where..." sighing, he turned tail and soared towards Eastmarch. His researches had also shown that there was a shrine to Akatosh in The Reach, but it was inside Fort Sungard and he would have had to disguise himself as the infamous Khajiit assassin in order to physically fit inside the chamber.
For that matter, transforming himself into humanoid form would have allowed him easy access to any of the shrines he had visited today, save for the missing one at Skyborn Altar - but the idea of praying to Akatosh in that form appalled the dragon, and it was unlikely to go down too well with the dragon-god, either. Fahdonmul had been made in mighty Akatosh's own image, after all - and he would pray to his creator in that form, or not at all.
He grumbled as the shrine came into view - someone had helpfully surrounded it with stone pillars, that would prevent a dragon from approaching by ground. However, it turns out that dragons can fly and so this defence was easily circumvented.
What would you say to God if you had His undivided attention? Fahdonmul knew roughly what he wanted to ask, but now that he was finally in a position to do so, the enormity of it all weighed heavily upon him. And how do you phrase such a request to your own creator?
And if your race been slaughtered en masse while the very being who had created them in His image had apparently done nothing to save His own children, was there any point in asking His opinion at all...?
Fahdonmul shook away his doubts, and began to pray.
"Oh, mighty Akatosh," he began, "I know we kind of messed up with the whole dragon cult thing and all, but please... give us another chance!"
He winced and got to the point. "Alduin will ruin everything and I have to stop him, but... He's Your eldest child! Am I doing the right thing...? Please, Father... show me a sign..."
"Yes," an unearthly voice replied. "He's a punk and he's gonna get you all killed."
Fahdonmul's eyes widened. "It's a miracle!" he exclaimed as a brilliant light shone down from the heavens to reveal the burning form of a gigantic dovah.
"Alduin has betrayed Me, child!" the dragon god informed him. "So many of My children have been martyred in the Crusades thanks to his bungling.
"He escaped My judgement before, but how he must pay!" the avatar snarled. "Slay him, Fahdonmul. Send his soul to Me before he does any more damage!
"For know that when the last dovah falls, so too shall the world!"
"Really...?" Fahdonmul squeaked, unsure how to respond to a divine revelation like this.
"Of course, my child!" the voice reassured him gently. "I am the dragon god - what use is a world with no dragons in it...?"
"But couldn't you have told the Blades that?" Fahdonmul babbled, realising too late that he was questioning his own creator's Great Plan. "The Dragonguard...? The Akaviri...? Couldn't you have stopped the crusades...?"
"They wouldn't listen!" Akatosh retorted angrily. "I am a dragon too, so they..." He sighed. "Look, just kill Alduin, okay...? We can worry about the rest later."
"As you command, Bormahu!" Fahdonmul replied eagerly.
"Wind lift you, child!" the dragon god replied, and vanished with a bright flash.
Fahdonmul stared at the mountain where his god had appeared for several minutes afterwards, and then took to the skies, heading towards Whiterun to burn off some of the nervous energy before heading back to the Monahven.
At Lake Yorgrim, the dragon Viinturuth paused in his circling, spotting a frost troll, and he descended to incinerate the object of his ire. Suddenly, he was aware of a fellow dovah passing by his territory, and he abruptly stopped to look.
"Hey, Vinny!" Fahdonmul cried excitedly. "I'm on a mission from God!"
Viinturuth stared at the other dragon. "Uhhhh... Okay..?" he replied.
The story of how Fahdonmul defeated Alduin in the Dragonborn's absence continues - it will run to eight chapters.
This chapter is heavily based on my video "Fahdonmul's Destiny" because yes, this story is trying to take the storylines from those videos and weave them into a more consistent narrative.
Icon art by
den-99While Sweet-Roll-Devour is my creation, I owe a lot to an anonymous contributor writing a fanfic about him, which helped gel his personality. Skyrim and its characters are property of Bethesda, of course.
=================
Chapter 4 - Parental Permission
"I am sorry to have sullied your meditation retreat with the blood of a fellow dovah," Fahdonmul sighed, looking at the red patch where Alduin had crash-landed. "But he would have defiled it with our blood otherwise."
"'Speak only in true need,'" Paarthurnax quoted. "The Way of the Voice allows for self-defence."
"How did you even do that?!" Sweet-Roll-Devour asked, looking astonished. "Alduin is special! No-one can harm him! Bormahu made sure of that!"
"Back in the olden times," Fahdonmul said. "Lazing in a palace, being given scritches by adoring kaazze... This was a good life, but I also needed something more... psychologically fulfilling. We were made to conquer... to better ourselves. I made a study of magics, enchantments and alchemy.
"Others of our kind sneered at this, for we were kings over men, sky-lords. Almost gods. But I knew that these good times would not last and began to prepare for the worst.
"I learned to change my form and pose as a kaaz. I taught myself to craft artifacts of tremendous power, and enchantments beyond anything a mortal could achieve.
"And with this skill, I made a charm that protects me, and sharpens my teeth and claws by many millions of times. Alduin himself sneered at me for playing with such toys like a mortal child. But he is not laughing now, is he?"
"If more of us had forged such artifacts, our race might not be in such a perilous position now," Paarthurnax said. "But maybe our pride and disdain against those who do... perhaps Bormahu wanted that pride to keep our kind in check."
Fahdonmul craned his neck to look at the refugee dragon. "What is your name, anyway?" he asked.
"I do not trust you," the dragon returned suspiciously. "With that knowledge, you could tear the ziil from my body and consume it! By knowing my true name, you could destroy me utterly!"
"I rescued you!" Fahdonmul snapped. "At great personal risk - I used an Elder Scroll to save you from certain death at the hands of those crazy dovahkriivaanne!"
"They were my friends once," Paarthurnax reminded him.
"I do not know what you saved me for!" the dragon said, looking anxious. "You may have saved me for later! You might want to parade me before your allies and execute me as an example... To show them what fate awaits those who willingly served Alduin!
"You might have felt my ziil was wasted if I was slain by mere mortals, and that you deserve to consume me to become stronger! You will need all the strength you can get to face Alduin..."
"Why do you think I would even want to do that?" Fahdonmul looked appalled. "Is this what servitude to Alduin has done to you...?"
"We are dov," the refugee dragon said. "We seek power. There is power in the murder of another dovah. Some would eat the last of our race if that would help them conquer. But it is also true that we are individuals and some may value power more than others..."
"Power is good," Fahdonmul said. "But not at that price. I seek to preserve our race, if I can... To save as many of us as possible, for as long as possible. If that means making peace with mortals, then that is what I shall attempt. Eliminating members of my own race is the opposite of what I am trying to achieve here!"
"That is why you saved me, even though I rooted for Alduin?" the refugee dragon asked hopefully.
"Yes," Fahdonmul said. "Do not mistake me - I do have power. I could have cut a swathe through all those who serve Alduin, and devoured the ziil of countless foes.
"But I am powerful enough that I do not need to stoop to such barbaric measures. And besides, our race is threatened by the mortals. I want as many of us as possible to survive these coming days. We are dov," he said. "And that also means we need each others' company or we can go mad from loneliness."
"The mortals will not accept a truce," Sweet-Roll-Devour said. "Nords despise us still, after the Dragon Wars. The Akaviri have poisoned our name well..."
"Nords are racists," Fahdonmul pointed out. "They force the kaaz traders to remain outside their cities. In Windhelm they do not let the Argonian dockworkers sleep within the city, they must stay outside in the freezing cold.
"But not all mortals are so petty. In the dark times after your little-death, fearing the Blades, some among the last dov sought alliances to protect themselves. They sided with mortals and fought for kings, fought for the Emperor himself, much to the disgust of the Blades.
"And now the Blades have been disbanded, if a faction of dragons were to approach the Imperials in secret, offering our protection and aid when the inevitable Thalmor betrayal occurs, I think they would be very interested."
"I do not approve of our kind being weaponised," Paarthurnax said. "The Way of the Voice is to promote peace and understanding, not war."
"Not all dov have the discipline to learn such self-control," Fahdonmul pointed out. "I wear enchantments to calm my urge to conquer, and I will provide those to others who wish to reach an accord with the mortals but have not the strength of will to learn the Way of the Voice. There is room for both paths - if nothing else, enchantments will buy them the time they need to learn the Way, for they will not get the chance if they anger the mortals and are slain before they can learn peaceful coexistence."
"Still," Fahdonmul added, "This is all just wind right now, putting the cart before the horse, as mortals say. First I must face Alduin - and if I fall to him, he will conquer all, and his incompetence will ruin the whole world. But... If I somehow succeed in vanquishing him, then I will push for a truce. Even the Nords must surely listen to a victor over Alduin."
* * *"Why do you disturb my meditations, Volaan?" the Elder Dragon of Skyborn Altar demanded as Fahdonmul approached his lair. "Are you here for the word-wall...?" he asked suspiciously. "My hoard...?"
"Wasn't there a shrine to Our Father here...?" Fahdonmul asked.
"It is being repaired," the dragon answered grimly. "Some... joor painted googly eyes on Father Akatosh!" he wailed, sounding anguished. Fahdonmul glanced to the side of the word-wall, where a Nord lay dead and broken, blood liberally splashed across the stone.
"Oh," he sighed dejectedly. "I wanted to pray for victory against Alduin..."
"Oh!" the Elder Dragon perked up visibly. "I think there is one near Rorikhofkah. And listen... good luck against Alduin. He's a punk and he's gonna get us all killed."
"Thank you, zeymah!" Fahdonmul replied, and took to the skies, the Elder Dragon craning his neck to watch as the smaller dragon flew away.
* * *"Ruth!" Fahdonmul cursed as he approached the shrine at Rorikhofkah. He was not in a good mood as Nahagliiv had clearly incinerated someone on the road running through the town, and while the other dragon had been adamant that he had been attacked first and it was self-defence, Fahdonmul knew that the Jarl would not see things the same way. Still, he had to admit that the civilians, even their cattle, were safe and sound - Nahagliiv had apparently kept the oath to his new Thuri.
And now the shrine itself was proving to be a problem. Such things were designed to bless the user when touched by a hand, but being a wyvern, Fahdonmul couldn't quite reach the effigy of his creator. He had tried nose-booping it and even licking the thing, but this apparently did not find favour with his god, and with the shrine tucked up against a gigantic monolith, he was unable to get close enough to touch it with his feet.
At length he gave up and flew to another shrine, this time in Falkreath hold, but while it had been placed high up as if for a dragon to reach, the architects had sheltered it within a stone canopy which again, prevented him from reaching the object of worship.
"Why would you do this?!" he spluttered with rage. "Why would you put a shrine to the dragon god where..." sighing, he turned tail and soared towards Eastmarch. His researches had also shown that there was a shrine to Akatosh in The Reach, but it was inside Fort Sungard and he would have had to disguise himself as the infamous Khajiit assassin in order to physically fit inside the chamber.
For that matter, transforming himself into humanoid form would have allowed him easy access to any of the shrines he had visited today, save for the missing one at Skyborn Altar - but the idea of praying to Akatosh in that form appalled the dragon, and it was unlikely to go down too well with the dragon-god, either. Fahdonmul had been made in mighty Akatosh's own image, after all - and he would pray to his creator in that form, or not at all.
He grumbled as the shrine came into view - someone had helpfully surrounded it with stone pillars, that would prevent a dragon from approaching by ground. However, it turns out that dragons can fly and so this defence was easily circumvented.
* * *What would you say to God if you had His undivided attention? Fahdonmul knew roughly what he wanted to ask, but now that he was finally in a position to do so, the enormity of it all weighed heavily upon him. And how do you phrase such a request to your own creator?
And if your race been slaughtered en masse while the very being who had created them in His image had apparently done nothing to save His own children, was there any point in asking His opinion at all...?
Fahdonmul shook away his doubts, and began to pray.
"Oh, mighty Akatosh," he began, "I know we kind of messed up with the whole dragon cult thing and all, but please... give us another chance!"
He winced and got to the point. "Alduin will ruin everything and I have to stop him, but... He's Your eldest child! Am I doing the right thing...? Please, Father... show me a sign..."
"Yes," an unearthly voice replied. "He's a punk and he's gonna get you all killed."
Fahdonmul's eyes widened. "It's a miracle!" he exclaimed as a brilliant light shone down from the heavens to reveal the burning form of a gigantic dovah.
"Alduin has betrayed Me, child!" the dragon god informed him. "So many of My children have been martyred in the Crusades thanks to his bungling.
"He escaped My judgement before, but how he must pay!" the avatar snarled. "Slay him, Fahdonmul. Send his soul to Me before he does any more damage!
"For know that when the last dovah falls, so too shall the world!"
"Really...?" Fahdonmul squeaked, unsure how to respond to a divine revelation like this.
"Of course, my child!" the voice reassured him gently. "I am the dragon god - what use is a world with no dragons in it...?"
"But couldn't you have told the Blades that?" Fahdonmul babbled, realising too late that he was questioning his own creator's Great Plan. "The Dragonguard...? The Akaviri...? Couldn't you have stopped the crusades...?"
"They wouldn't listen!" Akatosh retorted angrily. "I am a dragon too, so they..." He sighed. "Look, just kill Alduin, okay...? We can worry about the rest later."
"As you command, Bormahu!" Fahdonmul replied eagerly.
"Wind lift you, child!" the dragon god replied, and vanished with a bright flash.
Fahdonmul stared at the mountain where his god had appeared for several minutes afterwards, and then took to the skies, heading towards Whiterun to burn off some of the nervous energy before heading back to the Monahven.
At Lake Yorgrim, the dragon Viinturuth paused in his circling, spotting a frost troll, and he descended to incinerate the object of his ire. Suddenly, he was aware of a fellow dovah passing by his territory, and he abruptly stopped to look.
"Hey, Vinny!" Fahdonmul cried excitedly. "I'm on a mission from God!"
Viinturuth stared at the other dragon. "Uhhhh... Okay..?" he replied.
Category Story / Fantasy
Species Wyvern
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 84.8 kB
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