I don't own the Elder Scrolls Series or Inheritance Cycle.

The Dovah of Alagaesia

The Dovahkiin always knew he would become a dragon when he died. He was the son of Akatosh! The Dragon God of Time and Chief of the Nine! He was a Dovah imprisoned in a mortal shell to fight his elder brother, Alduin, the World-Eater. Upon his death he would shred his mortal form and ascend to his rightful place beside his brothers as their Thur, their Overlord.

He had gained fame in the entire continent of Tamriel with his actions during his life. Coming from a poor background, Aslan of Whiterun became a Hero of Legend, the Dragonborn. From his first encounter with a dragon, when he was about to be beheaded in Helgen after the Imperials mistakenly took him for a thief, to his battle with Alduin in the plane of Sovngarde. He battled mer, men and other species, killed giants and their mounts, trolls and witches and devoured the soul of the lesser Dovah to strengthen himself for his prophecized duel with the World-Eater. He gained the favor of the Daedric Princes, brought the Companions to glory, cleaned out den of vampires and as his final act, he lead the Imperial host and crushed the filthy Thalmor and their society, leaving nothing but ruins and a scattered people.

He took his duty as leader of the dragons seriously. He traveled the land of Skyrim, made the rebellious dragons submit to his rule, killed the Alduin loyalists, helped to educate the new dragons his father gifted Nirn in the use of their Thu'um, joked with the more free-spirited ones and sometimes rode them if offered. He could never have done it without some powerful and loyal allies. Paarthurnax, with his seemingly infinite wisdom and knowledge of the Thu'um, became a guide and a trusted friend. Odahviing was always up to see who could hold Yol longest and helped him relax. Durnehviir became his most loyal subject, always eager to escape the damned plane of Soul Cairn.

He studied the dragon language with the Greybeards, honed his Thu'um with Paarthurnax until he could honestly say he was the most powerful of them all.

He also had human friends, Lydia, his faithful Housecarl, with helpful advice and an even stronger shield to rely upon. Vilkas and Farkas, friends from the Companions and even that tricky old fox Brynjolf, who always tried to make his coin purse lighter. He enjoyed his time as a human, but he was ready, ready to become what he was destined to be.

So, when he died at the hands of those detestable Thalmor in an attack for revenge -he took out at least half of the squad sent to deal with him but even he wasn't invincible, his Thu'um was limited by his human body, he was out of magicka and already tired from the battles he entered the day- he was at peace, knowing that he died with honor, in battle like his human Nord ancestors would be proud of and content in the knowledge he would again live, but in his true body.

…

Only to wake up and don't understand what in Oblivion was going on. He was small, he could tell. His limbs didn't respond to him correctly and he was pressed against all sides so that he was curled up on himself, almost as if… he was in an egg.

An egg?! He thought, bewildered. Dragons don't come from eggs, like some idiots would tell each other in taverns over a barrel of ale. Dovah were created by Akatosh, certainly they were smallish, but they would grow up in the space of a handful of decades till they reached maturity, not come out of eggs! They would have an already formed consciousness with the necessary information to live ingrained in their mind. Akatosh made them so. What in the name of the Nine is going on here?!

He couldn't panic, not now. He didn't understand why he was in an egg of all things, but he knew one thing and he could feel it even in his bones. He had to get out.

With all his might, laughable in this state, he pushed his head against the shell, moving his limbs chaotically at the same time to fasten the process.

Again.

He recovered for a moment and then pushed once more.

Again.

He mustered all the strength his feeble body was capable of and pushed.

Crack.

Again and again he pushed against the shell and every time he did the shell cracked more and more until he could feel the air enter from a small opening. Feeling better already, he kept going until with a sharp sound the egg cracked in two and he felt free of the restricting cage of the egg.

He rolled to the side, gazing around warily. He didn't know where he was and everything was so huge! He was on the bank of a river, nestled between two enormous mountains that went on and on till the eye could not follow. A valley, then. The trees behind him were bigger than what he was used to and from his memories of Tamriel he had never seen trees so big, or this series of mountains… or this river.

Where am I?

He unsteadily stood, trying to stop the trembling of his legs and turned his head to see his body.

I am a hatchling. He thought, bewildered. He still didn't understand why his father put him in an egg instead of crafting him a body like for his other sons.

He could see a line of spikes coming down from his neck to the tip of his tail, presumably he had more on his head. His scales were a lighter shade of azure, almost white, but not. The color was similar to the blocks of ice found in the northern regions of Skyrim, floating in the sea. He looked down to his stomach and found the coloring a bit different. Near the spikes on his back they were a darker blue color, but the farther his gaze went, the more lighter it became, until his scales were as white as snow on his belly. He looked at the wings on his back, they were bat-like in appearance, with a thin membrane the same color as his body, with thin spikes at the end. He admired the claws on his limbs, they were of a silvery color and they would become as sharp as the sharpest Ebony Blade he could ever forge. His posterior limbs were more muscled, probably for landing and pushing himself into the air. His forelimbs were the same, with the same cla-

Wait… He glanced down again, a sense of dread and terrified confusion settling in his mind. Why do I have four limbs?!

Dovah do not have front limbs. They have a set of razor-sharp claws at the end of their wings, that serve as sort-of-hands to keep their prey from escaping, if their jaws aren't enough.

Dovah do not have front limbs!

…

And Dovah do not have their wings on their backs!

What the hell was going on?!

oOo

A/N: This is the first part of this one-shot about the Dragonborn of the Elder Scrolls Series in the world of Inheritance Cycle, as a dragon. The second part contains explanations and the goal of his little trip through worlds.