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"You're telling me," Farengar began slowly, "that you took a holiday to visit your family in Rorikstead, and whilst on your way back, a dragon attacked you, it was killed by Whiterun guards, and you absorbed its soul?"
Estelle nodded.
"And you came here to tell me because you think I have-"
"A dragon fetish," Estelle finished. Farengar's head shot back in confusion.
"I do not have a dragon fetish," he protested. There was a long pause. "But I require a demonstration of the Voice, if you please."
Estelle smirked, gesturing to him to follow her to an empty cabinet. She breathed in deeply, correcting her footing, and Shouted FUS! The cabinet broke, smashing under the force of the single word, and Estelle staggered backwards into Farengar's arms.
"Fascinating," he said sarcastically, but she watched him lick his lip and knew he was turned on by the simple word. "I wonder, is this the only word you know?"
"So far," she replied, trying to shrug. "If I find more, I'll demonstrate to you."
"That would be..." he licked his lips openly this time, out of both nerves and heat, "that would be excellent. Truly worthy of study. Perhaps, under different kinds of situations..."
"You're desperate to bend me over something, aren't you?" Estelle sniped.
"I am in far better control of myself than yo-ughn!" he gasped, pulling her tightly into him as her hand squeezed his length through the robes. "Dragonborn, I insist you allow me to study this new magic."
"By all means," Estelle agreed.
"And tomorrow we're going to the Throat of the World. You need to," he swallowed, "to learn all these various words. Soon. To save the world."
"To save the world," Estelle repeated.
"Yes."
Still, as he dragged her into his bedroom 'to run tests', she couldn't really fault his logic. Certainly, if using the Voice got him this worked up, she'd learn everything the dragons knew.