Chapter Text
Wandering had become a bit of a thing for her.
After she slew Alduin and absorbed his soul, she was unceremoniously ejected from sovngarde.
Yet, instead of returning to Skyrim, she had been thrown somewhere else, wandering the
spaces between worlds for a long time.
The only reason she had survived long enough in the spaces between, was her mastery over the Thu'um, allowing the dragon aspect to shield her against the varied environments she found herself in.
She had briefly entered the apocrypha to treat with Hermaeus mora, trading the knowledge of dragon shouts for any new knowledge from between the world.
Yet even the Daedric prince of knowledge did not know how to lead her home, for some sort of great working had set her path regardless of intervention. She would arrive where she was meant to be and neither Aedra or Daedra could prevent her from arriving, nor divining where it was she was meant to be.
This stunk of akatosh to be honest.
Leaving apocrypha meant once again traversing between worlds, and once again, using the thu'um to survive just the journey alone.
The further away from Nirn she traveled, the worse the conditions got. Instead of merely the lack of breathable air or the terrifying cold, instead the environment changed to barren wastelands with winds strong enough to ground a dragon, carrying sand fast enough to shred the robes she was wearing.
The further away she was from Nirn, the more creative she had to be with her Thu'um, telling the world, no actually, I can breathe just fine in a vacuum.
Barren wastes turned to impossible to navigate crystal mazes, to freezing glaciers that swam in the nothingness between realms, to putrid jungles filled with disease and insects larger than any she had encountered before.
At some point, despite long having left Nirn and Oblivion behind, she somehow came across the asylum. She spent a few weeks in mania, enjoying her time among the revelers, before being kicked out after punching Sheogorath in the face.
After traveling a long time with the speed of an ordinary mortal, she began to experiment.
The first shout the greybeards had taught her, had been the whirlwind sprint. Great in the middle of a fight, yet way too exhausting to use for travel. And so, she trained. Dissecting the shout was easy, as she had the memories of hundreds of dragons at her disposal.
Yes, the dragons didn't need the Thu’um for travel, on account of having wings, but still. Thousands of years of memories of spirited debate in the Thu'um left many starting points.
Wuld Nah Kest became Wuld Wund Kest and suddenly traveling was easier.
Invisible winds quickened her steps and made the distances she traveled between worlds feel infinitely smaller.
The first few wolds she arrived at were free of civilization, barely more than endless untamed wilderness.
Still, she enjoyed the time she spent on each world, seeking out safe spaces and building camp for a few weeks, hunting to replenish the food she had in her bag of holding and then continuing.
Whenever she found a particularly beautiful spot, she would sketch in one of the hundreds of blank books she carried, as a memento for when she finally arrived.
Still, she continued. A few nice weeks spent on a nice world would be interspaced with the inhospitable spaces between worlds, And with every step on her journey, her thu'um grew more powerful.
Already she had to lower her voice when speaking normally, as the world responded to the most offhand comment.
And the stronger the thu'um grew, the more her mastery rose.
At some point, while staying on a world with lush forests and large plains, she grew tired of the loneliness.
Dur Neh Viir
Od Ah Viing
And so the veil was torn and her Thu’um called the two beings that would always answer her call.
With the growing power of her Thu’um she managed to keep Durneviir in the material world for a longer time, which he was certainly grateful for. Still, in the end the Soul Cairn called him back, leaving her with just Odahviing for company.
Finally having a conversation partner while traveling between worlds was nice, especially since they could converse in the Thu’um.
And so, her journey continued, from barren world to barren world, with only Odahviing and occasionally Durnehviir for company.
Both dragons grew in power and size immensely while basking in the strange energies between worlds.
And so on she went.
Some worlds had the beginnings of civilizations on them. Barely groups of one hundred figuring out what agriculture was.
Sometimes she left only days after arriving, other times she spent some time with the people she met. But inevitably, she left, following the call of her soul.
World after world she traveled, leaving behind stories that would shape future generations, yet she couldn't stay. The further from oblivion she traveled, the stronger the call became, until finally, after an exhausting few months spent in the gap between worlds, she finally arrived.
Her arrival on this world was no different from the hundreds she had arrived at before, yet she could immediately tell that something was off.
The call of her soul was not pulling her into the night sky like it had done many times before, instead it called her northeast, somewhere on the surface of this world.
She had finally arrived, and none too soon, as her provisions were dangerously close to running out. The travel bag she had enchanted herself had held many things at the start of her journey, yet it was now lighter than ever before.
She was low on ginger and honey to help her throat, she was almost out of preserved foods that reminded her of home, and she was almost completely out of any of the fun recreational substances that she had enjoyed over her travels.
She still had a few bottles of mead, but none of the fun stuff.
Oh and her food was almost gone, since the last few worlds had been completely barren. It almost seemed like fate that her provisions lasted just long enough for her to arrive here, but not enough for her to simply leave.
To her it seemed like Akatosh’s meddling.
After a few moments of silent contemplation, she began to take in her surroundings. She was at the edge of a great desert, where the sands met the sea in some approximation of a beach. The sun was shining with intensity, causing the air to ripple over the sands.
“Nevermind that's just Odahviing.” she mumbled to herself as the great red dragon descended from the skies with a thundering crash that threw up massive columns of sand.
“I feel it Dovahkiin! There is magic in the air. The winds call out to me, whispering that they missed catching on a dragon's wings.”
Odahviing’s voice caused the sandy ground to shake as the dragon spread his wings to catch in the sea breeze.
“I know. The call is strong here and it no longer lures me to the stars, only somewhat vaguely in that direction.” She gestured lamely in the approximate direction of the origin of the call.
“ Ful Nii Los! So it is Dovahkiin, the land calls for the fires of a dragon!”
“ Kip Jot Naak Odahviing! Go hunt, enjoy the skies of this world, I will call you when I have need of your claws or your company. We don't need to be at the call’s location for a few months yet. I will travel to the Spires in the distance and replenish my provisions.”
“ Erei Mu Grind Dovahkiin, I will await the sound of your voice.”
With a mighty beat of his wings, Odahviing caught an updraft from the direction of the sea and with a small call of Wuld the gigantic red dragon shot off into the skies.
“Always so eager to explore.”
With a smile on her lips, the dragonborn stepped into the desert in the direction of the two spires on the horizon.
—-------------------------------------------------
Oberyn Martell was truly a blessed man.
Not only was he a well traveled, well learned and handsome man, he also had a large and happy family.
This very day, must have been blessed as well. Ellaria had woken him up earlier than usual and dragged him from his chambers. Then, with a few servants and five of his daughters they had set out into the sands.
Now a few hours later, he sat beneath a silken sheet with Ellaria in his arms, while his daughters amused themselves around him.
Obara, Nymeria and Tyene were sparring in the harsh desert sun, while Sarella and Elia were off to the side playing with a desert scorpion that had wandered into their camp.
The servants were as unnoticeable as he liked them to be, only being seen when his wine needed to be refilled.
Which was why his mood was instantly lowered the moment one of the few “Guards” that followed him around came to bother him, just as his hands had wandered from Ellaria’s shoulder to her chest.
“Prince, my apologies, but there is a person approaching the camp.”
An annoyed sigh escaped from his lips as his hand ceased its travels.
“So? If it's just a runner from sunspear you wouldn't be standing here and interrupting.”
“You're right my lord, the traveler is approaching from the direction of The Broken Arm, not from Ghost Hill. They're also armed and armored, though at this distance I can't make out any heraldry.”
With an exaggerated groan, Oberyn rose from the pile of pillows and silks he had spent most of his day on, before grabbing his discarded tunic and covering his upper body.
“Then let's go see this mysterious armed stranger, shall we?”
Moments later, Oberyn stood at the edge of their camp, his daughter Obara, spear in hand, by his side.
Slowly, the black shape that has emerged from the desert, turned into the silhouette of an armored and cloaked figure. They strode across the sands as if they'd done it their entire life.
Oberyn was quietly impressed, it took strangers a while to get used to Dorne's sands, as they were finer than any other, making walking a challenge.
The strangers gait was simultaneously a graceful glide, as well as the sure steps of a warrior, ready to draw a blade at a moment's notice.
Once the stranger was close enough, Oberyn signaled to one of the guards.
“Halt stranger! Identify yourself and your reason for approaching.”
The stranger stopped a reasonable distance from the camp, far enough to communicate but close enough to communicate.
For a moment nothing happened, as the stranger ceased movement, before removing their cloak, letting it fall to the ground.
Oberyn had expected many things. A lost ironborn that got stranded somewhere among the stepstones. An escaped slave from Tyrosh or Lys. Maybe even a traveling witch from Asshai.
What he did not expect was a towering woman in the most magnificent scale armor he had ever seen. She was tall. Not just tall for a woman, but tall in general, standing at least a head taller than Oberyn himself, measuring at least two meters tall. The scale armor covered her body almost entirely, but still he could see the woman's massive frame.
As the woman removed her helmet, it revealed a dark skinned but heavily scarred face, dark and intense eyes and black hair, neatly braided across the woman's scalp.
She was no conventional beauty, but her intense demeanor and those dark eyes instantly had him smitten.
And then she spoke.
“ Drem Yol Lok! Greetings strangers, I mean you no harm.”
Despite the distance, the woman's voice arrived as if she was whispering in his ears, almost too quiet to make out, yet still sure and powerful. It had to be magical in nature, as the guards instantly grew rigid.
“ I can divest myself of my weapons if it makes our conversation easier. I've come a long way and my provisions are running dry. I have coin or spices to trade if that interests you. If I am not welcomed I will simply be on my way towards the city with the twin spires. Ro Laan”
Throughout the entire greeting, the woman had only ever looked at him, either noticing that he was in charge, or dismissing the guards as inconsequential.
Calling over his shoulder, Oberyn never took his eyes off the woman.
“Ellaria dear? Could you come over for a moment?”
The rustling of soft fabrics and Ellaria’s soft footsteps are the only confirmation that she heard him. For the first time the woman's gaze strayed from his, apparently quite taken with Ellaria’s bare torso.
Ellaria draped herself around Oberyn, letting her head rest on his shoulder.
“What do we have here?” she whispered into his ear.
“A traveler from far away it seems. Apparently also quite magical. The language she greeted us in made my bones shake and my blood boil.” he whispered back.
“Oh that gaze makes my blood boil in quite a different manner.”
Oberyn could hear the smirk in Ellaria’s voice and knew he had her approval.
“Then I welcome you, stranger! I am Oberyn Martell and this is my lover Ellaria Sand.”
Once again the woman’s voice echoes out in a strange whisper.
“ Paaz Shul Grind! Lovely to make your acquaintance Oberyn Martell and Ellaria Sand. My name is Silana Mudo.”
The woman, named Silana Mudo apparently, stepped closer while pulling two colorful strips of cloth from a leather satchel at her side. As if observing some rite he has never heard of, she tied the first string across the handle and the head of her war axe, before tying the second string around the handle and sheath of her sword, so that it could not be drawn without ripping the cloth.
It seemed immediately obvious to Oberyn that the rite was a promise not to draw her weapons while in their company. He had seen many strange customs on his travels, but this one was new.
“ Dez motmahus! It is good to finally speak to normal people again. The past few months of travel have been dreadfully lonely, with only one and a half traveling companions to occupy myself with”
They approached the half tent Oberyn and Ellaria had just occupied. Oberyn immediately fetched another cup and began to fill it with wine.
“Ro Laan! May I request your help in divesting myself of my armor? If we are to converse I would really prefer to be comfortable.”
Oberyn turned back towards his guest, having expected the question to be aimed at him, only to see their guest look intensely at Ellaria. By the smoldering look in his lover's eyes, he could see that they would get along great.
Oberyn let himself sink into the silk covered pillows, before speaking.
“It is rare to see a woman of your stature in these lands, rarer still to see one clad in heavy armor.”
The woman guided Ellaria through the steps of unbuckling her armor, while returning her attention to him. Just as a test, he let his already loose robes slide off his torso, exposing his chest. Silana seemed to appreciate his form as well, if not quite as intensely as with Ellaria.
“And rarest of them all is to see a woman of your stature, clad in armor and for the armor to be of such exquisite make.”
Oberyn had intended for the question to be leading, to squirrel some information from her. What he had not expected was for her face to light up like one of his daughters at their poison lessons.
As Ellaria began to unbuckle the straps at the back of Silana’s chestplate, she tossed one of her gauntlets at him.
“Thank you for the compliment! This armor is some of my finest work. It took me ages to gather all the scales necessary, but it turned out better than I could have hoped for. It saved my life more times than I can count!”
Holding the gauntlet in his hand, closely observing the countless cuts and arrow impacts that had been expertly re-polished and repaired, Oberyn could only mutter in awe.
“I can see that.”
Finally, Ellaria had managed to free the woman from the last of her armor, and there she stood. Almost as tall as the Mountain that rides, dusky skin covered in silver scars all over her exposed arms and legs. Truly a vision.
Silana removed the last of her sweaty clothes, leaving her in only short trousers and binding cloth over her chest.
“Thank Akatosh I'm finally out of those. Lovely desert you have here, but I've spent the last few months in the cold and the difference is staggering.”
Oberyn instantly perked up. There was no way to arrive in the dornish sands without traveling through more temperate climates. For Her to have arrived here from somewhere cold must mean her method of travel had to be quite unorthodox. In his days at the citadel he had forged multiple links of his maesters chain out of valyrian steel, as well as learning quite a bit of magic on his travels. Despite his middling talent in the arts, few things fascinated Oberyn as much as magic.
Just as he was about to begin his inquiries, Silana reached for her travel pack, shoving her arm deeper into the leather bag than should be physically possible. Oberyn intently leaned forward. This was new magic, he could tell.
From the pack, Silana removed a large brass colored bowl, larger around than the pack should have allowed for. Following the bowl, she removed a large waterskin she used to fill the bowl, before removing multiple small vials as well as multiple washcloths.
“Apologies, but I really have to get the grime off of me.”
Completely oblivious to the intense looks she was receiving from her audience, Silana unstoppered multiple of the small vials, before letting small amounts fall into the bowl. Multiple of the vials were close to empty, yet it seemed it was enough for the desired effect, as the water filled bowl turned completely green, emitting a strange steam.
“May I ask what you are conducting this magic for?”
Oberyn had expected an explanation, or maybe cryptic riddles as many of the practitioners he had met were wont to do. What he did not expect was for Silana to break out laughing.
“Apologies, I didn't mean to laugh at you. This is not magic, this is simple alchemy.”
At the end of her sentence, Silana submerged one of the washcloths in the basin, before beginning to wipe down her limbs with it.
“My talent with actual magic is fairly limited, I must admit. I did study at a college for mages for a few moons, but only in the school of restoration, to heal my wounds and cure diseases. No, my actual talents lie in the forging of arms and armor, the enchanting of said arms and armor as well as their application on the field.”
As Silana rubbed the cloth over her skin, it left behind a faintly green residue that quickly turned to steam, leaving behind pristine skin. Once done with her first arm, she threw the cloth into the sands, where it slowly disintegrated, turning to green steam as well.
“This-” Silana gestures at the basin, before grabbing a fresh washcloth “- is a special acid of my creation. When diluted in large quantities of pure water, it loses much of its potency, leaving an acid that eats anything that is not alive, meaning grime, dead skin and unwanted hair. It is still quite volatile as you see when it eats through the washcloth. If i had not coated my nails in a similarly special made coating, it would remove my fingernails as well. Quite uncomfortable I must add.”
“Fascinating, may I try?” Ellaria asks.
A roguish grin, one that Oberyn knows all too well, comes over Silana’s face.
“Allow me!”
Silana grabbed Ellaria’s hand gently, before gently and quite sensually running the cloth over Ellaria’s arms and shoulders.
As Silana effortlessly maneuvers Ellaria to expose her chest, Oberyn could already tell that they would get along swimmingly.