So this is an "Alduin/F!Nord!Dragonborn" story. I use quotations because they have a relationship per se, but it is not a healthy one and it isn't a sexual one. Dovah parts just don't really match up with human parts. xD

It's a fill for the Kink Meme, based on a prompt that wanted Alduin to defeat, but enslave the Dragonborn as he had once enslaved most of the mortal realm. So this is spoilerific, and actually begins in Sovngarde and continues well past the end of the game. If I ever seem to be heading off track, let me know. I tend to write incredibly long, but slow stories and I seem to be having the same problem here. If Alduin gets just too OOC (which he will be, due to his increased 'emotion' & 'expression') let me know. I'm also very interested in learning more lore & getting that right, as well as figuring out the grammar for the Dragon Language. As of now, I simply use words but don't really know how to organize them.

The Dragonborn isn't named and isn't really described, but I stuck to the Nord race.

This is a work in progress. I do have several chapters/plot points written out as well as the ending, so now I'm just trying to figure out ways to connect them. I'm also considering including another, human, relationship for the DB, if only to sneak in some sex for the Kinkmemers. If those parts do arise, they'll be over on livejournal. haha. Hopefully you'll enjoy. :)

Warnings: Dark, angsty, long, slow, enslavement, "mind rape", might have minimum gore and sexual content, SPOILERS.

Death

Could there be a love beneath these wings?
If we suddenly fall should I scream out
Or keep very quiet and cling to my mouth?
As I'm crying, so frightened of dying.

Pain.

After hours of battle, of scrambling to survive, it was all she could feel. The rough bark splintering into her flesh. The dark bruises dotting her skin and trailing up her back. Was her spine broken? She could not tell, could not feel, too consumed with the pain, the raw scrapes, the black burns, the deep gashes. Too focused on the dots spotting her vision, the way the edges faded in and out as the fire in her head tried to drag her away from here, this realm where all was lost. She didn't have the heart to look at her wrist, the way it was bent terribly backwards, snapped at the bone when he rammed her mace from her grip. Her other hand was still intact, but she didn't have the strength to lift it. Didn't even have the energy to cast that soft restoring glow. All of her was depleted.

All of her was lost.

She heard the harsh beating of his wings, winced as the air stabbed at her form crumpled against the broken tree. She tried to bend her neck back, tried to raise her eyes to his, but everything was so heavy. She was so tired.

"Daar Lein los dii, Dovahkiin." His voice was finality, and rumbled from his chest like felt dragged over sandpaper. It was deep, and caused the ground to quake and rattle. It was hoarse too, though not as damaged as hers. Her mouth fell slack, trying to push out the words, but only blood flowed, her throat useless, burned and raw from the Shouts that had torn from her soul. The Thu'um was no gift. This blood was no gift.

He approached her, head high, fangs still bared. He too was bleeding, but not broken. He stopped just before her and unfurled his wings, flung them into the sky, sliced apart the wind. The bright light from the swirling clouds disappeared, and she was left in darkness. A comfort to her weak blue eyes, but a terror for her mind.

He dipped his head, tilted that terrible gaping maw to pinpoint her bleary gaze. His glare was sharper than his razor teeth, than the spikes that sprung and twisted from his scaled hide. Unable to manipulate their jaws, dragons depended on their eyes to express emotion, and Alduin's were hot and dark, hard and cold and so, so merciless. The spared fingers of her right hand twitched, but she knew she could not reach her blade. There was no hope, the bodies of her comrades strewn across the battlefield, the ground ripped and uprooted, split as though the very world was falling into its depths, falling to him. The Dragonborn sprawled broken and defeated at Alduin's feet.

This was the end. The world belonged to the World Eater.

His jaw spread open but did not descend upon her. Instead, he spoke again.

"You will make a fine slave, Sahlo. Joor. Saviik." A malevolent mirth tipped his threat, warm in a way far more chilling than the hard, cold words he had spoken before. When he mocked her weakness, her mortality, she felt only utter disgust, only complete resentment. How dare he place emotion, humor behind his voice. How dare he speak like a mortal, draw another line of similarity from Dovahkiin to monster. How dare he sound so pleased.

She could not hold his glaring gaze any longer, slumping even further against the shattered trunk. She was slipping away, falling deeper into that darkness at the corners of her vision, the shadows that clutched her from beneath the dragon's wings. She was dying, approaching some unknown plane in Oblivion as the failed Saviik. The savior who could not save.

Alduin only purred softly, and took to the sky just as she left the world.