Ysmir walked with Phina up towards the Cloud District. He could see her look at him sideways. He could see a flicker of fear in her eyes. He remembered well the day that fear began.
//Flashback, a little over 8 years ago//
Ysmir had gone back to the Blades headquarters after his recovery in High Hrothgar. Tsun had sent him there as his injuries would take place after leaving Sovngarde. Arngeir and the Greybeards had used their Thu'umme to heal him for a week. After all that, he just wanted to check on his friends before going home to Whiterun to see his daughters.
Instead, he's stuck with listening to the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard from a woman his Dovahsil keeps telling him to kill already.
"If you won't kill Paarthurnax, you are not welcome here. Go."
Esbern and Ysmir's friends looked shocked at this. Several of them looked ready to attack her...
Until Ysmir started laughing.
Everyone had looks of shock at this. No one knew how to react as Ysmir kept laughing for a solid minute.
Then he looked at Delphine with a look none of them had seen on his face before. Not even anything close.
Complete and utter contempt.
It shocked them further into complete silence.
"You are an utter Oblivion-damned idiot.
What reason do I have to listen to you? You have a seriously misplaced sense of self-importance, Delphine. Let me explain just how much of an idiot you are.
First off, you allow blind hatred to guide your actions. You sent me on a wild chase after the Thalmor because of nothing more than a hunch that they would have something to do with the dragon attacks, despite constant failure and evidence suggesting otherwise.
If the Thalmor had ANY control over even a single dragon, why would they waste their time on a war-torn province? The only thing that was advantageous to them was the attack on Helgen, since it prolonged the war, destabilizing the Empire a bit.
Except Elenwen and several other prominent Thalmor members were there, and it was Alduin himself who attacked, which I ALREADY EXPLAINED TO YOU. A wise man once said that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different outcome.
If they had control of a single dragon, why not send it to Cyrodiil and create conflict there? It would destabilize the Empire far more than some random villages being destroyed.
By allowing your decisions to be guided by blind hatred, you have consistently put yourself, me, and others around us in needless danger. Thank Kyne I had the common sense to wear different armor and a mask when I started sneaking around the Embassy!
You are a completely incompetent leader!
Now, let's take a further look at your misplaced self-importance, shall we?
The first time we met, you said I would have a chance to prove myself to YOU. As though you had genuine authority at all. When all you were was a lone woman pretending to be a barkeep to hide like a frightened horse from the Thalmor.
On the run to Kynesgrove, you kept saying how you didn't want me killed before Kynesgrove, displaying a belief that I was vastly weaker than you, despite the fact that I had already survived and stopped several dragon attacks THAT GUARDS HAD WITNESSED AND REPORTED as well as traversing the depths of Jurgen Windcaller's tomb to find your stupid note.
And your insistence on killing Paarthurnax! Where do I begin with this?
Your reasoning is that Paarthurnax commited evil acts whilst being Alduin's lieutenant. I ask you, what other choice did he have. Alduin was utterly ruthless, and would kill any dragon that dared to defy him. Odahviing jumped at the chance to help in Alduin's demise. The dragons were as afraid of Alduin as everyone else was.
You forget that Paarthurnax is the dragon responsible for SAVING mankind. He taught men the Thu'um, knowing full well that if he failed, he would be erased from existence. The goddess Kyne deemed him worthy of redemption. Are you seriously going to argue with the word of an AEDRIC GODDESS?
It was his choice to overcome his natural instinct to dominate and help mankind. His choice to defy all that Alduin stood for.
What is better? To be born good, or to overcome one's evil nature through great effort?
I say the latter. I know that I've had evil thoughts in my life, but I choose not to act on them. I choose to be good.
Paarthurnax is the reason I was able to kill Alduin at all. And he has proven to be a far better person than you have. He has struggled and succeeded in overcoming his dominating nature over the millenia. Even when dragons dominating mortals makes as much sense as men and mer dominating cattle.
You say it's evil to betray someone who has proven to be the epitome of evil themself? That makes no sense at all.
Your justification for killing the kindest dragon alive amounts to nothing more than blind, irrational hatred. Especially since Paarthurnax has proven far more valuable in the battle against Alduin's reign.
Then there is your complete disrepect towards Arngeir and the greybeards.
You mock them on the basis they don't want me to use my Thu'um as a tool of war. That is incorrect, and proves how much of a simplistic view you have on these matters.
The Way of the Voice dictates that a tool of war is the least important use of the Thu'um. I assure you, the Greybeards are far from Pacifists. They believe the Thu'um can be used for violence in times of true need.
You stupidly claim that had Tiber Septim followed the Greybeards' advice, he would have never founded the empire. THEY WERE THE ONES WHO SUGGESTED AND ENCOURAGED IT IN THE FIRST PLACE. They will advocate violence - and even war -when it is clearly necessary.
The Greybeards are far more powerful, ancient and influential than the Blades have ever been or will be.
That is but one example of how you need to brush up on your history.
You told me the Blades swear loyalty to the Dragonborns because they are the ultimate dragonslayers. Wrong. It is because of their Dovahsille, their Dragon Souls. Why do you think the Blades have followed the vast majority of emperors throughout history? Does a bunch of old men who have never fought a day in their purple-thread lives seem like natural dragonslayers to you? Damn, I'm a Dragonborn, and when I first faced Mirmulnir, I barely survived, and that was with Irileth and dozens of guards with me. I was stuck healing from burns and frostbite for days.
I find it worrying that someone who claims to lead the Blades could make such mistakes on their most basic history.
The only good thing you did was reveal Esbern's location, and even then, he has proven far more important, valuable and trustworthy than you.
*sigh* You are a woman desperately out of her depth. You want to feel significant, so you clung to a long-gone institution to give yourself and others the illusion that you have authority and purpose.
But you don't. You never did."
There was much sympathy in his voice for the last part. He had heard from Esbern what they had faced when fleeing from the Thalmor. The horrors they had faced, the friends they had lost. He knew, at the end of the day, that there was a reason she was like this. The Blades had been her entire life, and she just wanted that back.
"No. NO YOU'RE WRONG! I AM THE GRANDMASTER OF THE BLADES! LEAVE OR I WILL ORDER THEM TO ATTACK!"
And just like that, most of the sympathy had shriveled away.
"And yet you show once again how stupid you truly are. You are only the ACTING Grandmaster. And do you forget who makes up most of your members? These are my friends, my comrades; people who have bled for me and who I have bled for in return. I would trust these people with my very life! And you expect one command, or one dragon NOT killed, will be enough for them to betray that bond? Look around you!"
Delphine did so, and saw looks of disgust and anger pointed at HER. Some were even pointing their weapons at her, looking at her with killing intent.
What struck her the most, though, was the stare of utter disappointment coming from Esbern.
"And you seem to forget just Who. I. Am."
Delphine looked up, and noticed that Ysmir's once blue eyes were glowing gold. She had briefly noticed his eyes had changed color since his return, but had not truly registered it until now.
Ysmir's Dovahsil roared at him to destroy the bitch who dared insult him. He reigned it in, his meditations with Paarthurnax having taught him to control the instincts. He could not, however, stop the power of his Thu'um from slipping into his words.
"ZU'U FAAL DOVAHKIIN, KRIID DO ALDUIN. DOVAHSEBROM. KAAL DO KEIZAAL."
(Translation: I AM THE DRAGONBORN, SLAYER OF ALDUIN. DRAGON OF THE NORTH. CHAMPION OF SKYRIM.)
These words were heard far and wide as they traveled like the Voice of the Greybeards. All throughout Skyrim. The people of Skyrim would rejoice when those who studied the Dragon Tongue translated them. Especially two 9-year-old girls who would know their father had returned.
The people of Cyrodiil, Solstheim, and Morrowind, however, were left to freak out as they tried to figure out what in Oblivion just happened.
Ysmir's friends looked on in awe and respect. Delphine had been knocked back into the wall. Cracks spread all over the floor from where Ysmir stood. Delphine could only stare in pain and terror at the figure before her.
Ysmir's Dovahsil roared with pride at the fear he saw. Ysmir turned and walk to the door.
"To the rest of you, it was a joy to see and speak with you all, my friends. I'm off to spend time with my family."
Before he left, he looked back at Esbern. He saw the same awe his friends had, as well as something else.
He liked Esbern. He was honest and straightforward. But before now, he had been too passive, letting Delphine walk all over him.
But now, as he looked in Esbern's eyes, he saw something change in him. It was a change Ysmir liked.
"From now on, Esbern is the Grandmaster. You listen to him. Lead the Blades well, Esbern."
With that, Ysmir walked down the mountain.
//End Flashback//
Since that time, Delphine has never spoken against Ysmir, knowing full well that he would not lose any sleep over killing her. She and Esbern had gone to the Face-Changer in Riften when Esbern wanted to just walk around without worrying about the Thalmor recognizing them. Delphine had wanted to use it as an opportunity to get far away from Skyrim.
Then they learned Ysmir had joined the Thieves Guild. He recognized Delphine's and Esbern's voices instantly. Her plans for escape went up in smoke.
They arrived in Dragonsreach. The delegation from Cyrodiil was there.
You see, in studying Cyrodiil's laws, they had found a detail that proved to be rather interesting. A set of laws made by Tiber Septim himself that dictated that anyone found to be Dragonborn could challenge his descendants for the throne. And if the current rulers weren't his descendents? He could just take it. Further details made it so there could be no later laws that contradict it.
Now, Ysmir didn't plan on becoming emperor. He wouldn't trust himself with that kind of power. But he would gain such influence that would let him change things quite a bit. Such as replacing the Penitus Oculatus with the New Dragonguard, his renaming of the Blades. Even the Thalmor wouldn't be able to do anything, since Esbern's and Delphine's identity changes made it impossible pin them as members of the Old Blades. And considering he was able to kill Titus Mede(who he suspected did the Black Sacrament on himself) without the Penitus Oculatus even knowing about it, it would be pretty easy to replace them. Taking the best of the Old Blades and the Penitus Oculatus together into a single powerful group.
And since the Empire loves their damned lists, his descendants would be written down so any one of them could become Emperor or Empress if they so desired.
In the delegation, there were several nobles from Cyrodiil, each dressed in their finest robes, likely trying to impress who they thought could be their future ruler. As if he would be that shallow.
There was the regent that Ysmir never bothered learning the name of. And then there was the prince himself, Artorias Mede. Titus's nephew. Barely 16 years of age, younger than Lucia and Sofie. Made Ysmir glad he didn't have to actually fight. If he had been Tiber's descendant, Ysmir would have had to kill him.
The boy was dressed in the finest robes there, so filled with detailed scenes of Cyrodiil's history it would take 15 pages to describe it. It had been a present from all the Nobles. It was the single most expensive thing in the room.
Ysmir and his family wore simple, single-color everyday clothes. They had never bothered with overly-detailed nonsense. Practicality over appeal. The only special thing about them was what they were made of. Frostbite Spider Silk.
Ysmir had experimented with the silk of Skyrim's never-ending arachnids and found the silk was actually 5.5 times stronger than steel. The only problem had been gathering enough of it. Ysmir had ended up with cloth that could be given the Fortify Armor enchantment. Arrows weren't getting past that silk cloth any time soon.
(AN: Fortify Armor is a single enchantment in this story.)
Elenwen and others from the Thalmor Embassy had gathered. Elenwen took one look at Ysmir and knew instantly more fools had gotten themselves killed. She sighed. 'More reports to write.'
But they weren't the only ones there. Lydia and Serana stood together, waving at them. Archmage J'zargo gave a mischievous grin to his old research buddy, having taken a break from teaching to see history being made. His friends amongst the Companions were wolfishly grinning at him. Mjoll, Ilia, and others were there. Esbern, now known as Bornard, was there in the special Stalhrim armor Ysmir had made for his New Dragonguard.
He could see Cicero jumping up and down around the nobles. After rebuilding the Sanctuary in Dawnstar, Cicero had taken to being Balgruuf's court jester. Wanted to be closer to friends, he said. How he got between Whiterun and Dawnstar every day to preserve the Night Mother was a magical mystery J'zargo and Ysmir had yet to solve.
(AN: Maybe he's related to the Courier? lol)
Speaking of the Brotherhood, Ysmir looked to the shadows, handlessly casting Detect Life. He saw Listener Astrid.
He had struggled to use the same healing Shouts the Greybeards had used on him to save her when the Sanctuary had fallen. After that, she had dedicated herself to making things right and bringing back the traditions that had helped them survive for centuries. She had such an attitude adjustment, that when Ysmir had figured out how to transfer the Listener status, he knew just who to give it to.
(AN: Yay, Astrid redemption. Is there a mod for that?)
She had apparently tried to cast the Black Sacrament on herself, but had passed out due to her injuries before she could speak a single word of it. How she even gathered the materials in that corpselike state was beyond him.
There were several Black Brotherhood members about. Ysmir didn't believe all the nobles would let go of their Pawn Prince's status so easily. The Morag Tong were a dangerous group, and Ysmir wouldn't put his family's lives on the line on the off chance the nobles might be good people.
He saw his fellow soldier Legate Hadvar, who had become in charge of the remaining Imperial forces in Skyrim after General Tullius had returned to Cyrodiil. They still weren't sure just what had originally caused that landslide between Falkreath and Bruma.
There were the Jarls (minus the Winterhold pirate) and High Queen Elisif. Their Thanes and Housecarls. Then there were Balgruuf's advisors, including...
Nazeem. Great. Ysmir really hope he could keep his superiority complex in check.
Ysmir had learned over the years that Nazeem's ego was surprisingly well-deserved. The Redguard's political knowledge was unmatched amongst Balgruuf's advisors, exceeding even Elisif's in some areas. The way he could use other's word against them in trials sometimes frightened people. The man's flaw was that he couldn't keep his ego to himself. He was a complete and utter Oblivion-damned ass about his influence and wealth. He had had several Black Sacraments done on him, but his personal guard kept chasing off or killing the trained assassins.
Seriously, even Nazeem's guards, who hate the man paying them, can protect him better than the Oculatus could protect their beloved Emperor Titus from a rookie assassin on a ship he could barely get in and out of. More proof the idiots needed replacing.
The Regent stepped in front of Ysmir, looking up at the 7-foot tall Nord with glowing yellow eyes. Ysmir's long, black hair hid the slight points on his ears depicting his distant Altmer ancestry.
"Well, here you are, finally."
"Had to dress in something other than night clothes," Ysmir responded.
The Regent looked at the Breezeholme family's clothes with barely contained disgust.
"You could have dressed more fittingly for a meeting with the future Emperor."
Terek spoke up. "If it helps, our clothes are made out of Frostbite Spidersilk. Practicality over looks."
One of the nobles gained a thoughtful look on her face. "Yes, the natural danger of the creatures, combined with the difficulty of removing the adhesive and turning the silk into proper thread, would make it rather expensive, even with magic. But what do you mean by practical?"
Terek just smirked and pointed at Ysmir. "Old former Archmage here figured out that spider silk is, thread for thread, way stronger than steel. Pretty close to ebony, in fact. Combined with an enchantment, and a simple shirt and trousers could turn out to be pretty good at deflecting a sword if it's thick enough."
Excited murmuring came out from the Cyrodiilic nobles. Armor disguised as regular clothing? Ysmir's simple shirt could be just as expensive as half their wardrobes!
"Enough!" the Regent yelled out. "We are not here to discuss the latest fashion! We are here to get rid of this FAKE Dragonborn once his lies are revealed!"
Anyone not from the delegation looked ready to kill the Regent for his blatant disrepect. Even Hadvar looked appalled at seeing the soldier who had turned the tide of the Civil War so disrespected. Ysmir had joined the Imperial Army after the attack on Whiterun, when his daughters had almost been killed by the leader of the Stormcloak charge in an attempt to send a message. A move High Idiot Ulfric did not approve of when he heard just why the Champion of Skyrim was fighting with the Empire.
Elenwen, who knew the power of Auriel's chosen champion, found herself barely containing her desire to kill this egotistical Imperial.
(AN: Only Auriel's Champion can truly wield the Bow, according to Altmeri legends in this story. After Harkon's defeat, anyone but Ysmir who tried got severe burns that would not heal. Elenwen herself has one on her right palm.)
Ysmir had to send a subtle gesture to Astrid to keep the more rowdy assassins in check.
Prince Astorias simply put his head in one of his hands at the idiocy and tactlessness of his representative.
The Regent continued with a condescending smirk, as though he had already won. "You know the penalty for lying, yes?"
Ysmir answered without skipping a beat. "Death."
A brief flicker of uncertainty passed through the Regent's face, before the confidence and condescension returned. "Then why do you continue with this foolish endeavor? There is no way you could be Dragonborn. And if by some impossible chance you were, how would you prove it? There hasn't been a single dragon sighted in Skyrim for 6 years."
Ysmir simply smiled and looked to Balgruuf.
Balgruuf stood up from his seat, a smile on his face. "Follow me, everyone."
They walked to the balcony where Numinex and Odahviing had each been held for a time (well, Cicero cartwheeled) and there, to the shock of the delegation, was a captured dragon, muffled with a large muzzle made of Daedric Metal.
This dovah's name was Kriiovkren. A name given to him by Ysmir.
A few months ago, the first Dragon attack in 6 years had happened. This particular one had not become peaceful like his fellow dovahhe. He had taken Paardremov's (formerly Paarthurnax) teachings of meditation to simply gain more power. He had taken the lives and souls of a few of his former friends, including children. He had then went to Whiterun to kill Ysmir and become the new World-Eater.
He had believed, like many dovahhe, that Ysmir had absorbed Alduin's soul. And that only a true dovah could become the World-Eater. Ysmir had almost laughed ironically when he heard this. Alduin's soul had been absorbed by Aetherius itself, with only a mere speck being spared by Akatosh in case the world needed to be rebuilt.
When the proud dovah had landed in Dragonsreach, the last words he had heard were 'OBLAAN KORAAV PRAAN', before waking up chained, and unable to move.
(Shout: Put to Sleep. Knocks out an opponent for several days. END AWARENESS REST.)
Now, today, he would pay for his crimes against man and dov. His former friends had all agreed with the sentence. Even his mate couldn't bear to look at him after he had consumed her mother's soul.
The Regent could only watch in awe and terror as Ysmir walked up to the creature before them.
"You fool, what are you doing, are you trying to get yourself killed? That thing could break out at any moment! Get back here!"
Ysmir simply turned his head towards the panicking regent, smiled, and kept walking towards the thrashing dov.
The Regent heard chuckling from the Skyrimites, with flat-out insane laughter from the jester.
"What are you all so amused by? He could get killed!"
Phina Bladeheart looked at him, and couldn't help the smile on her face.
"You are an Oblivion-damned idiot."
"W-what is tha supposed to-"
"KRII LUN AUS."
(The Marked for Death shout. KILL LEACH SUFFER)
The force of the shout shook the palace, as all looked through Ysmir and the now glowing-purple dragon.
"Kriiovkren, fah hin vod dreh wah joorre ahrk dov, hi fent dir NU."
(Literal Translation: Kill Trust Breaker, for your past actions against mortals and dragonkind, you shall die NOW.
What is meant: Kriiovkren, for your crimes against mortals and dragons, you are sentences TO DEATH.)
With the judgement cast, and a flash of light, a dragonbone-daedric metal mix greatsword appeared in Ysmir's right hand. Wielding it like a shortsword, he jumped up 20 feet in the air, before coming down and stabbing the traitorous wyrm between it's eyes.
The dragon's roar was heard for miles around. Hearing it from atop High Hrothgar, Paardremov could only sigh. He knew the traitor could not be allowed to roam free. Hearing the sobs of Kriiovkren's mate, he went to comfort her. They hadn't known she was pregnant. But, he thought, maybe it's better the kiir not be raised by such a treacherous diiv.
Ysmir stepped back as the Dovahsil tried to escape the wyrm's corpse. The scales of the monster started falling to the floor as the flesh burned away from the force of the semi-divine soul. With a clash, the last of the scales and the bones fell to the floor, golden lights going to fly around and into Ysmir as he floated into the air.
For the first time since Miraak's defeat, Ysmir felt the power of the dragons flowing through him. The Dovahsil combined with Ysmir's own 100-plus-strong sil. The Dragon Tongue did not hold words to properly describe this glorius sensation. His strength, intelligence, and magicka increased by a now insignificant margin.
As he gently landed, he failed to notice that his hair and skin were glowing gold, with a flame-like gold aura around him. Even to the Thalmor gathered there, he looked almost like a god.
Ysmir grinned. "Ready to start negotiations yet?"