It's finally finished! I'm so sorry for the delay; the exams arrived before I could finish writing this, and almost as soon as they were over I went away for a week without internet. But here at last is the final chapter. I've had a blast writing this story, so I hope you all enjoyed reading it, and that I won't disappoint now. Thanks so much for reading!

CHAPTER EIGHT – ANCIENT BLOOD

Ozan pushed open the door to the mine to reveal that there was a dragon sitting outside the entrance.

After a day filled with one unexpected and heart-stopping event after another, Sissel had thought that nothing else could really surprise her any more. She had been very soundly mistaken. She heard a gasp break free from her mouth, and tried to take a step backwards, behind her foster parents, but her feet seemed suddenly frozen to the spot. Eyes wide, she glanced between Ozan and Jenassa's faces. Neither of them seemed worried, or even surprised.

Since neither of them was reaching for their weapons, Sissel decided she was probably safe to take a closer look. It didn't look much like the white dragon, the one that had attacked their home. Not white, for one thing, but red, a dark crimson with paler patches on the wings. The spines were not so long, not so vicious-looking. But the face, the eyes… they had the same intelligence as that white dragon had had. This creature was, undoubtedly, a person. No mindless beast.

The dragon lifted its head, turning its sinuous neck around so that it was facing Ozan. 'Dovahkiin. You found her.'

Ozan nodded. 'Geh. Kogaan fah hiif, fahdon.'

Though Sissel had no idea what the words meant, she felt something stir inside her at the sound of them. She didn't understand what was said, but she felt like the meaning was… close to her. Like a memory that she couldn't quite reach, but was still inside her.

Ozan extended a hand towards the dragon. 'Sissel, Odahviing. Odahviing, Sissel.'

'Odahviing is a… friend,' Jenassa explained. 'You probably heard the story of the Dragonborn catching a dragon in Dragonsreach and riding off astride that dragon to confront Alduin. The dragon in question was Odahviing.'

Sissel breathed out slowly. 'So that's how you got here so quickly.'

Lowering its head, the dragon spoke, voice deep and resonant. 'The Dovahkiin has my grin do zin… my bond of honour. When he calls my name, I come, and aid him against his foes.'

'And you helped him find me?'

'None shall harm the family of the Dovahkiin while I draw breath on Nirn.' Odahviing sank his talons into the snow. 'I could not lend my flame to his battle. Nii los krosis. But to lend him my wings to reach the battle… it is not as much, but it is enough.'

A realisation had been steadily occurring to Sissel as he spoke. 'Um. So the only way to get home is…'

Ozan shrugged. 'Hope you don't mind heights.'

'I don't know. I've never been anywhere very high.' Sissel couldn't deny that the thought of riding this dragon was unsettling. Not because she didn't trust him. If Ozan trusted him, that was enough. But… well. A dragon. Her, riding it. Possibly falling off.

'You will not fall, kiir,' Odahviing growled, as if he'd read her thoughts. 'And if you do, I shall catch you.'

Sissel wasn't sure what was worse: the thought of falling, or the thought of being caught in those enormous talons.

'It's safe, Sissel,' Jenassa said quietly. 'Believe me, I had my doubts the first time, too. And it does give you quite the beautiful view.'

That brought the ghost of a smile to Sissel's face. That carriage ride from Rorikstead to Riften, through the plains and shady forests and the mountains and the amber woods of the Rift would always be one of the most precious memories she had. What would it be like, to see it all again with the eyes of a dragon?

'All right.' She said it quickly, so that she didn't have time to lose her courage.

Ozan nodded, and clasped his hands together. 'We head home. Eat, rest. Then… someone I wish you to meet.'

That was definitely a good idea. Sissel was tired and starving, and quite honestly, she would willingly set aside all her doubts about her foster parents for as long as it took to amend that.

Odahviing's piercing gaze turned to Ozan. 'Who do you plan for her to meet, Dovahkiin?'

'Paarthurnax.'

The huge, horned head inclined slowly. 'Zu'u koraav.'

Sissel glanced between them. 'Who is Paarthurnax? Is he…' She hesitated, knowing it would sound foolish if she was wrong. 'Is he another dragon? His name sounds…'

'Hi los onik. You are wise for one so young, kiir.' The tone in Odahviing's voice could be nothing but… approving. 'He is dovah. He is a teacher. Mindopah ahrk aak.'

'Understand when you meet him.' Ozan sighed. 'He knows me best.'

Jenassa coughed meaningfully.

'Knows me in a different way.'

The Dunmer raised her eyebrows. 'I'll take your word for it.'

Odahviing bent down so that the spikes on the underside of his chin were brushing the ground. 'Come, joorre. I shall return you to your home, Dovahkiin, and if you need my wings again to carry you to Paarthurnax, call my name.'

'Thank you, Odahviing.' Ozan strode over to him, grasped his horns, and swung himself up onto the plated neck – Sissel noticed that behind Odahviing's neck, his spines were short enough for them to sit comfortably. Ozan beckoned her over, and, with no small amount of trepidation, Sissel allowed him to help her up behind him.

'Can you carry all three of us?' she asked, as Jenassa joined them.

Odahviing let out a loud snort. 'Ha! Joor kiir, your weight is nothing. I have torn mountains asunder with my talons alone. Do not doubt the strength of a dovah.'

'Dragons are proud,' Ozan explained, simply and unnecessarily.

Sissel shifted until she was comfortable as she could be in her seat. It was reassuring to have her foster parents on either side of her; with her holding on to the back of Ozan's tunic, and Jenassa's hands on her shoulders, steadying her from behind, she felt somewhat more secure. 'OK. I'm ready to go.'

'Then let us go.' Odahviing's vast wings unfolded. 'Lok saraan.'

The wings pushed down, and the dragon lurched upwards. Sissel yelped and grabbed a tighter hold of Ozan, squeezing her eyes tight shut as the lurches repeated. I am never, never becoming a dragon, she decided.

'It gets better.' Jenassa's voice was as tense as Sissel felt. 'Once he's gained some height, everything smoothens out a bit.'

'Good,' Sissel said faintly.

She kept her eyes closed and, to distract herself, focused on how glad she was that she hadn't eaten since the morning. Anything she'd eaten would likely have come up again.

And then the lurching stopped, and Sissel became aware of a new sensation, that of the wind beating against her dress. It was cold, but not unpleasantly so, and Odahviing's movements were suddenly gentle and fluid. She swallowed and opened her eyes.

'Wow.'

It was all she could think of to say. Odahviing's wings were open and spread, carrying his bulk through the sky in a smooth glide. Above them, there was an emptiness she wasn't used to. Whenever she looked up, normally, there were trees or buildings around the edges of her view. Now, there was nothing but blue and streaks of cloud.

And looking down… looking down, she saw Skyrim. The forests had faded into blurs of green, the buildings had dwindled to brown specks, and the rivers glinted like lengths of silver ribbon.

'It's beautiful,' she breathed.

Ozan dipped his head.

'And… we're going so fast.'

'Soon be home,' Ozan said quietly.

And Sissel, still in the grip of her awe, didn't question the word home.

Five or so hours after dawn the next morning, she was again sitting on Odahviing's back, and he was bearing her through the sky.

She'd been too tired, when they reached Heljarchen Hall the previous night, to do anything but eat, pull off her coat and crash into bed. She and Ozan and Jenassa had spoken little throughout the morning, but that wasn't uncommon. Ozan could go whole days without speaking. And even though the revelations of the day before hung in the air between them – vampire, assassin, her father's killer – there was something… comfortable about the atmosphere of their home. It felt easier, somehow, knowing everything there was to know about Ozan, even if what she'd learned mostly consisted of bad things. She preferred it to the feeling of not knowing, to feeling in the dark and ignored.

And it was hard to dwell on her doubts, when she had been promised the chance of talking to another dragon. She wasn't sure why it excited her so much. Perhaps it was because of that dream she'd had. Perhaps it was because if she understood dragons, she might be able to understand more about her dragon-souled adopted father. Or maybe it was because there was some kind of beauty to the creatures. Something about them that drew her.

Jenassa did not accompany them; she would spend the day arranging to have everything the bandits had attempted to steal taken back to Heljarchen Hall. Though Odahviing insisted that carrying three would have been no harder than carrying two, Sissel did have a feeling that they were moving faster. Certainly, after only about an hour in the air, they were nearing the slopes of the Throat of the World.

'Is this where the dragon lives?' she asked, as Odahviing began to approach the summit, tilting his huge head slightly so that the driving snowflakes weren't going directly into his eyes. She was glad Ozan had insisted she wear so many layers; she knew that this mountain was the highest in all Tamriel. The perfect place for a dragon to live.

Ozan nodded. 'At summit.'

'All the way at the top?'

Another nod. Sissel wasn't surprised. Dragons in books and drawings always seemed to live at the tops of mountains.

'What was his name again?'

Odahviing was the one who replied, his words faint, half torn away by the wind. 'Paarthurnax, kiir.'

'What does that mean?' She wasn't sure why she asked the question. She just felt, suddenly, like the name had a meaning. As if all dragon names had meanings.

'Ambition overlord cruelty,' Ozan said, and swiftly added, 'Doesn't suit him.'

Odahviing was rising still higher. It was a fairly cloudless day, but Sissel knew that if the sky had been filled with its usual covering, they would be above it by now. Shivering slightly, she watched the grey and white mountain peak grow slowly closer. And closer still, until at last Odahviing began the lurching decent, dropping down bit by bit until his feet crunched in the snow.

'I shall await your call, Dovahkiin,' he growled, as Ozan slid off his neck and reached to help Sissel down.

'Thanks, Odahviing,' Sissel said, and the dragon gave her a low nod before leaping back into the sky.

She pulled her coat a little tighter around herself and looked around; Odahviing had dropped them on what seemed to be a plateau near the summit. Sissel sucked in a few deep breaths; she knew that it could be hard to breathe at heights like this, and that she should move slowly and carefully to avoid feeling ill.

Ozan waved his hand, indicating something further along the plateau, and Sissel turned to face in that direction. It was hard to see anything through the thick clouds of snowflakes, but she could just make out a dim shadow behind the white flurries, a dark grey blur. Frowning, she inched forward to see if she could get a clearer look.

And then a breeze parted the snowclouds just for a moment, and Sissel saw the shape for what it was. She saw the thick curve of the neck, the hunched wings, the jagged ridge of the spines. She saw the claws, claws as long as her lower arm, where they gripped the rim of the wall. She saw the clouds of breath frosting instantly in the snow-crowded air.

She saw the dragon raise his head and turn it towards her.

Instinct made her step back and to the side, shrinking close to Ozan, so that the fur of her coat brushed against his arm. But he glanced down at her, smiled, and gestured for her to walk forwards. And since Ozan told her to, Sissel knew that she could do it and be safe. This dragon was not an enemy, like the white beast that had attacked their home. This was dragon was like Odahviing, like the dragon she'd seen in her dream.

Very like the dragon from her dream, she saw, as she moved closer, lifting her feet high to clear the snow. This dragon was grey, just like the one she'd imagined as she'd slept. His scales had none of the vibrancy of Odahviing's; they were nicked and scarred in a hundred places. He was perching on some kind of wall, a wall built in a shallow curve, and the wings that held him in place there were tattered, like old clothes that no one had ever had time to mend. One of the horns that jutted downwards from his chin was broken near the base, and the tip seemed to have snapped off one of the large ones on the top of his head.

Sissel kept walking forwards, until at last she was close enough to meet his eyes through the snow. They were grey, a little cloudy, perhaps, in the way that Jouane's were. This dragon was old. Much older than Jouane. Probably older than everyone Sissel had ever met put together.

He looked down at her, and the expression on his face was deeply, infinitely kind.

A feeling Sissel had no name for swept over her body, making the hairs on her arms prick and her breath snag in her throat. It was a feeling of awe, of realisation, a feeling that told her that she was on the verge of something and there was no going back, not now, not ever.

'Drem yol lok.' The voice growled like Odahviing's, but there was a softness to it, a gentleness. 'Welcome to the edge of the world, young one.'

Sissel took another step towards the dragon, her eyes so wide she thought they might burst from her skull. 'I dreamed about you.'

A chuckle came rumbling up from the depths of that fanged maw, a warm, fond sound that seemed to come from right inside the depths of wherever it was that a dragon's fire was born. 'Tol los ful? Then I am honoured, dii kiir.'

The crunch of snow underfoot told her that Ozan was approaching. He dipped his head as he drew level with Sissel, and the look of respect on his face was one that Sissel had never seen him direct at anyone before, except maybe Erandur. 'Drem yol lok, fahdon. This is Sissel. My foster daughter.' He glanced down at Sissel, then back at the dragon. 'Took her in for many reasons. One was her dream.'

The grey dragon tilted his head to one side, as if thinking hard, then slowly clambered down from the wall. Crouching in the snow before the pair of them, he lowered his head so that it was on a level with Sissel's. 'Goraan gein, young one, I am Paarthurnax.' The edges of his mouth curved upwards into what could only be a smile. 'Many have come here over the years to learn from me, but you are the youngest, I think. What is it you seek?'

Sissel glanced at Ozan, and the Redguard took a step forward. 'Paarthurnax…'

What he said next was in the dragon language. Sissel could tell that it was as clipped and monosyllabic as normal, but Paarthurnax seemed to understand. 'You still doubt it, Dovahkiin? Akatosh made his choice, and he chose well.'

'Maybe. But Sissel deserves answers.'

Paarthurnax gave a small shake of his head. 'You have the answers within you, fahdon. You simply do not look deep enough to find them.'

Ozan folded his arms and said nothing.

With a huff, Paarthurnax nodded. 'I will answer the child's questions. Perhaps with time, you shall find your own answers, gritaas gein.'

As he so often did, Ozan made no response to this, and simply turned and stalked away over the snow, vanishing within a few seconds behind the wall of snowflakes. Sissel guessed he was going a little way off so that she and Paarthurnax could talk openly – and she didn't mind that. She felt safe with this dragon. She had dreamed of this dragon, and he had not been one of the bad ones.

'So, kiir,' Paarthurnax said gently. 'Tell me of your dream, and tell me your questions.'

Sissel glanced down, wondering if there was a rock that she could sit on. There wasn't, but Paarthurnax flicked his tail around so that rested on the ground just in front of her, and gestured for her to take a seat. Feeling a little like she was doing something disrespectful, Sissel sat herself down on the thick grey scales.

'It was a dream I had ages ago,' she said slowly. 'Before I met Ozan, or saw any dragons. I… think I was here, on this mountain, but it wasn't snowing. It was night, and there were stars everywhere, and - and I think I was with you.'

She broke off, pressing her eyes closed as she forced her mind back in time. It had been so long ago, that night when she'd dreamed of a grey dragon. It almost felt like something that had happened in another life.

'You saw me,' the dragon murmured.

'Yes.'

Paarthurnax let out a low, throaty chuckle. 'I hope I did not frighten you, mal gein.'

'No. No, you didn't,' Sissel said quickly. 'I wasn't scared. I… sort of knew you wouldn't hurt me. You just weren't scary.'

Another rumbling laugh, as Paarthurnax unfurled one ragged wing and eyed the frayed edges. 'I am in little shape to scare any, now.'

Sissel smiled. 'How old are you?'

'I do not know. Time is not to us as it is to joorre, to mortals. We do not see it in parts, as you do. I cannot measure it in a way you would understand. I know only that many ages of men have come and gone, risen and faded, while I waited upon this peak.'

'Were you alive during the Dragon War?'

'Geh. I was. I lived and fought in that war, and I was not young even then.' He shook his weathered head. 'But that is long past. Tell me more of your dream.'

Sissel pursed her lips. 'Well. Not much actually happened. I think it was snowing, and you covered me with your wing, and we sort of sat and watched the snow, and the stars.'

The cloudy eyes gazed at her, steady and intense and very, very kind.

'And, um, that was it. I think.'

Paarthurnax's eyes narrowed, in what Sissel took to be a dragon's version of a frown. 'And you had this dream long before you met the Dovahkiin?'

Sissel didn't know what Dovahkiin meant, but it was how Odahviing and Paarthurnax had both addressed Ozan, so she guessed it was some kind of dragon name for him. 'Yes. Well, not long before I met him. Just before. I think it was only a few days.'

Paarthurnax let out a low, thoughtful hrmm sound.

'What does it mean? How could I have a dream about you before I even knew you existed?'

'Let me think on it, kiir.' Paarthurnax ruffled his wings a little. 'For now, tell me of your questions.'

Sissel frowned. 'But-'

'Come, mal bron, and do not quarrel. Among the dovahhe, the dragons, it is tradition that the elder choose the path of the tiinvaak, the conversation.'

'Mmm.' Sissel huffed. 'I think that's a human tradition too. My friend Jouane told me to have respect for my elders about a million time.'

The dragon gave no reply beyond another amused rumbling. Sissel stared at him for a moment more, then gave in.

'Ozan adopted me… a long time ago now. Almost a year. He and Jenassa have been looking after me. I like them. They're a lot better than my father, my real father. He used to…'

She let the sentence trail off. Even after all this time, it was hard to talk about. Even think about.

'He used to hurt me when he was angry,' she got out at last. 'Me and my sister.'

Paarthurnax's eyes closed for a few moments. 'The families made by mortals are incomprehensible to most dovahhe,' he murmured. 'But I have spent many centuries doing what I can to learn a little of how it is you live and grow together. I know that no parents should cause pain to their child. Lot krosis. It is a great sorrow.'

A great sorrow. Yes, that sounded about right.

'When my father was killed… I wasn't really sad about it.' Sissel scuffed at the snow with her boot, sending flakes flying. 'I don't miss him. But yesterday, I found out that it was Ozan who killed him.'

She looked away. A sound came from Paarthurnax that might have been a sigh.

'Do you know what he does?' Paarthurnax said, after a silence of some length. 'How it is that he makes his life?'

'He kills people.' Sissel swallowed. 'He's an assassin. He told me.'

'So this is your question, goraan dremiik? You wish to know why a man who can take the lives of others in order to create his own can also be the man who showed you kindness, who treats you well, who sees you as a daughter far more than your blood father ever did. Nid?'

Sissel nodded. 'Yeah. All of that. And… do you think I should stay? Keep living with him?'

The snow was becoming more fierce by the second. Paarthurnax glanced up at the whitening sky, then opened one wing, shielding Sissel from the weather, just as he had in her dream.

'Tell me,' he said, dropping his head back down and meeting Sissel's gaze. 'Why would you not stay?'

That wasn't something she'd considered. 'I… um, I don't know. I guess – he's an assassin, and a vampire, and he killed my father. If he were in a book, that would make him one of the bad people, wouldn't it?'

'Are we in a book, kiir?'

There was only one answer to that. Sissel shook her head.

'Nid, and things that happen in laas, in life, are seldom as they are in the tales. The stories are full of day and night, light and shadow, separated cleanly. But in truth, there is always twilight between day and darkness. In this world, things are not as simple as we would like to believe.' He gave another dragon-frown. 'Do you fear the Dovahkiin because of what he is? Or do you merely feel that you should be afraid, knowing that others would be?'

Sissel hesitated. He had a point. Vampire and assassin were words that sounded bad. Anyone who heard them would associate those words with evil. And yet Ozan had never done anything bad to her, not directly. He had killed her father, but he hadn't done it because he wanted to be cruel to her. The only reason she might not want to stay with him was because… well, it wasn't what you were supposed to do, was it? You weren't supposed to live with the person who assassinated your father, and think of them as your father instead.

Why, though? Why, except that it was strange? Strange wasn't a good enough reason.

'I'm not scared of him. He'd never do anything to hurt me.' Sissel spoke firmly, because she knew that it was true.

'And how is it you know that?'

'Because he wouldn't.' That wasn't a very good answer, so she was relieved when a better one quickly occurred to her. 'I just know, same as I knew you were a good dragon when I had that dream about you.'

Paarthurnax regarded her for a moment. 'Let me tell you, kiir, of what it is that makes a dovah, a dragon, burn to the ground a city of mortals, or hunt the innocent, or even attempt to cause the end of this world. It is rage. Rahgol. It smoulders within us like a fire, and it cannot be contained. The will to destroy is in our blood, and most of my kin do not try to resist it.'

'You're not like that,' Sissel pointed out.

'No, I am not, for I have been changed. I have done terrible things in my time, my young friend. I have slain many, and served one who was evil down to the last drop of blood in his veins. But with the passing of time, I have learned to respect and understand motrals. And since I see their lives as having value, I must restrain my inner rage. It is not easy. Bah los wo Zu'u los. Wrath is who I am, and it will always be within me. But I am changed, and I am no longer, and I am no longer the creature of evil I was.'

Sissel wasn't sure how this related to Ozan, but she was fairly sure that Paarthurnax would explain soon, so she waited.

'Your bormah, your father, the Dovahkiin – he is the same. There is rage inside him, both his own, birthed by his past, and that of his dovah sos. His dragon blood and soul give strength to what anger is already within him. He has tried to contain it –'

'By becoming a vampire. He told me.'

'Drem, small one, and let your elder speak. Geh, he became a sosnaak, a creature of the night, balancing one blood power with another. That dims his dragon rage. But to control his own rage, his own darkness, his mortal darkness – what is needed is something more.'

He turned his head toward the path that stretched away from the summit; Sissel guessed it led to the monastery she'd seen nestled on the slopes. 'I did not change alone, kiir. I was aided by allies, by fahdonne. Friends. My wuthiik fahdonne, the Tongues of old, stood by me and put their trust in me, though they knew that darkness still ran in my blood. They did not desert me, though many would have told me I was undeserving of their friendship simply because I was dovah.'

And at last, Sissel understood. 'It's like me and Ozan. Other people would say he's a bad person because he's an assassin and a vampire, but I know he's good.'

'Hi los onik, goraan gein. You see beyond what he is, and see who he is. He is struggling to overcome his darkness, and so he needs the aid of those who care for him, just as I did. You are one of those who can aid him. You must remind him of what is right, and of what is good about him. And perhaps, as I did, he shall find a new way of life. Even if he does not, he shall find a new strength in himself. For he believes he is a creature of darkness, but how can he continue to believe such a thing, when one such as you have trust in him?'

'You think I can help him by staying?'

Paarthurnax gave her another of his intense looks. 'Do you wish to leave?'

'No.' The word came out instantly, instinctively, without Sissel even thinking about what she was saying. 'I want to stay with him and Jenassa.'

And she did. She wanted to have her riding lessons with Cyrus, the horse Ozan had bought for her. She wanted to spend her days learning about the world from Erandur, and her evenings listening to Ozan's stories. She wanted to live with the people who cared about her, and who had come to save her when bandits kidnapped her, and who had never raised their hands to her.

'There are things that are worse than killing a father.' Paarthurnax's voice had a sudden weariness to it. 'I caused the death of my own brother. He was Alduin, the World Eater, and he deserved death. But this world is not the same without him.'

Sissel nodded, thinking of Lemkil. 'I think it's good that my father's dead. I'm happier with him gone. But there's still something sad about it.'

'Vahzah. True. Perhaps you and I both mourn what could have been. That my brother and your father could have been more. But the world is without them now, and they, in death, should not change the fates of the living.'

It was true, and Sissel knew it. Lemkil was dead. He had controlled her life when he was alive. He had no right to control her any more, not now that he was gone.

She smiled. She'd made her choice, and in the end, it had been easy.

'Paarthurnax,' she said slowly. 'What about my dream? You said you'd tell me what you thought it meant.'

'Geh, and now I have thought on it, I shall tell you.' He shook his unfurled wing, sending snow scattering off the sails. 'It is not certain. Such things are often meant to be mysteries. But there may be reasons.'

Sissel hated it when adults did this – rambled for ages before actually answering a question. 'What sort of reasons?'

The dragon made another hrmm sound. 'Your bormah, your father, is not the first of his kind. Indeed, he is the last, the last Dragonborn. There were others before him, on whom Akatosh bestowed his gift, such as Tiber Septim, and others who now dine in Sovngarde's hallowed halls. The names of many have been forgotten, their stories slipping, unremembered, from the records of history. But they lived, and some passed on their blood.'

Sissel had to think for a moment before she understood what he meant. 'You mean, they had children?'

'Geh, and their dovah blood flowed also in their descendents. And thought this is not the same as having a dovah soul, it means that all who came from the line of the Dragonborns of yore do have a little of the dragon in them. Some of those who lived in bygone days understood Dovahzul, my people's tongue, without it being taught to them. Some could learn to Shout with ease. And others… a few simply had an understanding, of a kind, with dov. A connection with all dragonkind. Your dream, I believe, is a sign of such a connection.'

For a few seconds, Sissel stared at him, eyes wide. 'You mean… I might be descended from a Dragonborn?'

'I think it is… reasonable to assume so. Tell me – how many of my kind have you seen in your short time on this world?'

'Three. You, and Odahviing, and there was one, a white one, that attacked our home. That's the one that I saw first.'

'Could you tell, the moment you laid eyes on this first dovah, that he was a person? That he had a mind and soul of his own? Ni sivaas,ruz gein voth lor.'

Hesitantly, Sissel nodded. 'Yeah, I could.'

Paarthurnax gave a slow dip of his head in acknowledgement. 'Have you heard a dovah Shout?'

A combination of Jouane's books, Erandur's lessons and Ozan's stories meant that Sissel knew what this meant. 'Yeah.'

'Could you hear the words within the roar?'

'I…. yes. I didn't know what they meant, but I could tell he was saying something. Shouting something.'

Paarthurnax made a small, satisfied-sounding grunt. 'Til mu los. Many would have heard only a worldess roar, but to you, here was meaning, even if it was not understood. Everything that is dovah calls to you. You and I, my young friend, share distant blood.'

Sissel breathed out slowly. Faint within her veins, there ran a few drops of dragon blood. Suddenly, she was more than a farmer's daughter from Rorikstead, who had been lucky enough to meet the Dragonborn. She was special. There was something about her that was rare and unique. The knowledge made a warm feeling spark inside her.

'Do you think…' She paused, trying to work out what exactly it was that she was trying to say. 'Do you think I was…. you know, meant to meet Ozan? Because he's Dragonborn, and so was one of my ancestors?'

The dragon let out a thoughtful humming sound. "Meant'? It is impossible for any on this world to know what is or was meant to happen, even one who has lived as long as I, and may see glimpses of both past and future in the tiid-ahraan, the time wound. Some say nothing is written in the stars, and that only we can choose what we become. Others say that a few have destinies written – they may be chosen for certain paths, such as being Dovahkiin – but that we may still make free choice. For others, all is already determined, and the choices of mortals and dragons make no difference – '

'What?'

Paarthurnax shook himself, and gave her a slightly sheepish look. Sissel hadn't thought that dragons could look sheepish. 'My apologies. Krosis. Forgive an old dovah who rarely speaks with others. Sometimes I talk, yet say little with any meaning.' He chuckled. 'But as for your question… perhaps it is so. Or perhaps you each felt a connection through your blood, and once having met, you were drawn to each other.'

Sissel sat silently for a while, turning this over in her mind, before asking a new question. 'Paarthurnax, do you like Ozan?'

'Like him? Of course. He walks a dark path, but he is my kind, and he is a fahdon, a friend.' He was silent for a moment. 'And I owe him my life.'

'You do?'

'His allies wished to kill me. He refused and spared me, because I had shown kindness to him.' He closed his eyes. 'Your bormah carries darkness with him, but that does not mean there is no light at his core, or that by walking a dark path, he cannot bring light. Rok los vulkun.'

Sissel nodded slowly, taking this in. Ozan was an assassin, it was how he lived his life. People told him to kill, and he killed. But he had spared this old, kind and friendly dragon, because that dragon's life mattered to him.

'Do not be afraid of him, young one.' Paarthunax's voice was very gentle. 'He has a dark past, and its burdens weigh on him. Not all his choices are right. And this is why he needs the aid of one as wise as you.'

Sissel closed her eyes and thought of Jouane's words. Family is more than shared blood. It turned out she and Ozan did share blood after all. But all the same… she understood now, completely, what Jouane had meant. She felt the truth of it in her heart.

She stood up, stepping out from under Paarthurnax's win to stand in the snow; it was thinning now, somewhat. 'Thanks for talking to me, Paarthurnax,' she said. 'It's really helped.'

'I am glad, kiir. I enjoy speaking with others. It is not a pleasure I experience often. Perhaps we shall see each other again.'

'We will.' Sissel was certain enough of that. She'd ask Ozan to take her here again – she wanted to hear stories of the ancient Tongues from the this dragon's mouth. Maybe, since she had some faint dragon blood, he could teach her how to use it, to Shout in the dragon tongue. She'd like to learn the dragon language, too.

'I'm going to go and find Ozan now.' Sissel almost stuck out a hand, before remembering that Paarthurnax couldn't really shake it. 'But I'll see you again soon. There are… a lot of things I'd like to learn.'

'With Alduin gone, I have become a mindopah, a teacher.' Paarthurnax spread his wings, sending snow cascading to the ground. 'I would be proud to pass on my knowledge to you.'

'Thanks.' Sissel hoped he could read human faces well enough to know what her smile meant. 'I… uh, I should go. Um. Goodbye.'

Paarthurnax bowed his head. 'Fare you well, young one. Lok, thu'um.'

And so Sissel strode away from the summit of Tamriel's highest mountain, feeling far older than she had when she'd arrived. It was only about a minute of picking her way along the icy path later that she found Ozan, seated on a rick with his hands clasped together.

He rose and turned on hearing her coming, and moved toward her. 'Sissel. Did you – '

Before he could finish the sentence, Sissel threw her arms around him. There was a pause; then Ozan slowly returned the gesture, pulling her close. Sissel thought of her blood father, the man Ozan had killed and replaced. He had never held her like this. Never. And she was glad, because Lemkil would never have been able to do it properly. He had no warmth in him, no love. But Ozan did, and it made Sissel feel so safe.

'You'll stay?' he murmured.

'Definitely.' Because you need me as much as I need you. I'm going to prove to you that you can be better, and I'm going to help you get there.

Lemkil had been beyond change. Ozan wasn't.

Her foster father – no, her father – let her go, gave her one of his rare smiles, and turned his head to the sky. 'Let's go home.'

He breathed in deeply and Shouted, his Voice ripping through the snow and making Sissel's skin tingle. 'ODAHVIING!'

They stood there together, watching the snow circling down. No secrets lying between them, nothing unsaid. A father and daughter, waiting for a red dragon to appear in the sky.

'Can I ask something?' Sissel said, then frowned. 'No, sorry. Three things.'

Ozan nodded.

Sissel looked up at him. 'Some time soon, can I go and visit Britte?'

His eyebrows raised, but he didn't seem too surprised. 'Of course.'

'Great. Thanks.' True, Sissel had never really liked her sister, but still, Britte was young. She still had time to change, to grow out of being angry and bitter, Sissel had no desire to live with her again, but she knew she'd never forgive herself if she didn't at least try to help her change. And there were other people she'd like to visit at the Honourhall – like gentle, kind Constance, and Runa, who'd been her friend and hopefully still would be.

The second question was a little more risky, but Sissel had a feeling she was in a good position to ask favours of her father right now. 'The other things is – I mean, one of the other things… Can I go and study at the College of Winterhold when I'm older.'

Ozan turned his head towards her, regarding her with his dark, owl-like gaze. Then he nodded again. 'Yes.'

A surged of joy pulsed through her, and she had to fight back the urge to punch the air. 'Are you sure? I mean, I know you don't like magic.'

'I trust you to use it.'

That was enough for Sissel, so she ploughed ahead, without any preamble, to the final question – the riskiest of all. 'Why aren't you and Jenassa married?'

There was a lengthy silence. Ozan stood motionless for a few seconds.

'There are… reasons.'

'Yeah, like what?'

'Don't want to tie her down. She may want more than life with a vampire assassin.'

Sissel huffed. 'That's stupid. She lives with you, doesn't she?'

'Yes, but - '

'And has she ever said anything to you that made her think she minds you being what you are?'

'No, but – '

'And you love her, don't you?'

Another pause. Ozan breathed out slowly. 'Yes.'

'Then I think she'd be pretty happy to be tied down to you or whatever, and it's not tying down, because that makes it sound bad. It's just being married. Which is a contract of reciprocal rights.' She smirked a bit as she said that last bit – it was something Erandur had told her when he'd been explaining his work to her. 'You might as well ask.'

Ozan stared at her for a moment, then shrugged. 'I'll ask Erandur for an amulet of Mara.'

'Good.'

There was a long, comfortable silence.

'Sissel,' Ozan said, as Odahviing's blurred shape became visible behind the crowding snowflakes.

'Mmm?'

'Thank you.'

'It was Mara who first gave birth to all of creation and pledged to watch over us as her children. It was through her love of us that we first learned to love one another. It was from this love that we learned that a life lived alone is no life at all.'

Sissel was in Nightcaller Temple again – but she was not there for lessons, and the name no longer seemed right. Not now that she and Erandur and Alesan had finally constructed a proper chapel in there, with pews and an altar and a shrine. The Jarl of the Pale had even agreed to give them official funding. This was a Temple of Mara now, and behind the altar, smiling gently and warmly, Erandur was conducting his first service.

Before him, side by side, stood Ozan and Jenassa. Ozan was, for once, not wearing his hood; he had combed his hair into something resembling neatness, refreshed his white warpaint, and donned a formal tunic decorated with red, gold and black pattern in what Sissel guessed as a traditional Redguard style. Jenassa wore a dark blue dress ('only dress I own,' she'd told Sissel in a conspiratorial, girls'-secret kind of whisper, when she'd shown it to her) and had taken her hair out her normal braids so that it fell loose down her back. She was smiling broadly, and while Ozan's face was typically still, Sissel could tell he was as happy as Jenassa from the slightly awed glances he kept sending her way. As if he couldn't quite believe his luck.

The rows of pews were virtually empty, which didn't surprise Sissel at all. She was seated at the front, kitted out in a green dress she'd fallen in love with when Jenassa had taken her into Radiant Raiment in Solitude to buy clothes for the wedding. Next to her was Alesan, and next to him was a girl who looked to be a little younger than Sissel, but who had declared with some pride that she was actually several centuries old. Babette was a vampire, and part of the Dark Brotherhood, the group of assassins Ozan worked for. She was nice enough, for all that, despite her uncanny eagerness to recount stories of her assassinations.

On the adjacent pew sat the man Babette had arrived with. He was, like Ozan, a Redguard, and again like Ozan he carried a scimitar and wore a hood. Even in the Temple. He'd introduced himself as Nazir, but made no further conversation. Sissel found herself more intrigued by him and Babette than scared. Maybe they were killers, but so was Ozan, and these were the people he trusted enough to work alongside and call friends.

On Nazir's right was someone Sissel had heard much about, and had been looking forward to meeting – another vampire, a full-grown one this time, named Serana. Her, Sissel liked. She'd introduced himself with a smile, had quickly revealed that she shared Sissel's interest in magic, and, when Sissel had explained that her birth father had been cruel to her, Serana had nodded sympathetically and said, 'I know a bit about that.'

And that was everyone. Which was a bit sad, because it was a shame that Ozan had few friends. All the same, it felt right, because there shouldn't be anyone here except those Ozan trusted, and they had that. The only people missing, really, were dragons, and they wouldn't have fitted inside. They probably didn't understand mortal marriages anyway.

So here they were. Only eight of them, but they didn't need anything more.

'We gather here today,' Erandur was saying, 'under Mara's loving gaze, to bear witness to the union of two souls in eternal companionship. May they journey forth together in this life and the next, in prosperity and poverty, in joy and in hardship.'

Sissel didn't try to stop herself from grinning. Thinking of her family's future felt so warm, because it looked so bright. It had been a month since she'd spoken to Paarthurnax on the Throat of the World, and in that time, she felt like everything had come together. She had tied off the loose ends of her past. She'd visited Rorikstead, seen Jouane and Erik and all the others again. She'd gone to the Honourhall and visited Runa and Constance – and Britte. Her sister was still surly and sullen, but that streak of pointless cruelty seemed to be fading. She'd insisted that she had no interest in coming to live with Sissel - for which Sissel was grateful – but they had at least spoken, and parted amicably. Which made Sissel feel like her old family – her violent father and vindictive sister – had been somehow… sorted. Put away neatly, so that Sissel could be part of a new family.

And here it was in front of her.

Erandur turned to face Jenassa. 'Do you agree to be bound together, in love, now and forever?'

Still smiling, Jenassa dipped her head. 'I do. Now and forever.'

Turning to Ozan, Erandur repeated the question. Ozan's eyes never left Jenassa's face as he replied, firmly, gravely, and wonderingly. 'I do. Now and forever.'

Erandur raised his arms. 'Then by the authority of Mara, the Divine of love, I declare this couple to be wed.'

There was a moment of silence. Then Ozan turned to Jenassa, drew her to him, and very tenderly kissed her.

Alesan jumped up instantly, clapping, and Sissel quickly rose to join him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the others doing the same.

Her heart felt very full. Less than a year ago, she'd been looking at a future spent under the fists of her father and sister, pulling up weeds and grappling with farm tools. From there she would have had to find work in the tiny place that was Rorikstead, probably living out her years wiping tables in the inn. And now?

Now, she had the promise of studying magic. She'd fought a dragon, and befriended two more. She'd learned so much about the world, and about herself. And most important of all -

'You've got a proper family now, Sissel,' Alesan said over the applause, as if he'd heard her thoughts.

We were already a family, Sissel thought, though she said nothing.

Babette was grinning. 'A Redguard vampire, a Dunmer, and a Nord kid? Strange family.'

Sissel looked at her parents, holding each other in front of the altar. They saw her watching, and smiled. She beamed back.

'Yes,' she said. 'Yes, it is a strange family. But it's a good one. And it's mine.'

END