King-Fall

Introduction

"So many great nobles, things, administrations, so many high chieftains, so many brave nations, so many proud princes, and power so splendid; In a moment, a twinkling, all utterly ended."

—Jacobus de Benedictus

/*~KF~*\

"Behold! The Hero of Skyrim! The Savior of Solstheim! An honorary member of the House of Telvanni! God-son of Akatosh! The Dragonborn! Talion Wraith-Blood!"

The streets of Solitude burst with a cacophony of sound and stimulation. Nords lifted mead in my honor, musicians blared, and women and children jumped in jubilation. The smiles broke through my usually gloomy demeanor, today the joy was especially contagious but deep down I knew the violence was long from over.

Although the Stormcloak's have been defeated and many have put up their swords forever, the zealous of any cause never surrender. Many of these zealots have assimilated into the tribes of the Forsworn and attempt to raise an army that way. Some zealots have even turned to human sacrifice and necromancy creating cults. I continuously think of everything that they could run to, the daedra, even the remaining Dōv who are now without a king-

My wife, the Jarl of Solitude took my hand on the throne next to me. She lifted a flagon in my name and the crowd jeered. I couldn't let my countenance seem gloom, so I raised a flagon as well looking at my wife all the while saying,

"Long live the Empire!"

I pressed my lips to my wife's as the crowd screamed,

"Long live the King!"

Smiling at the crowd I noticed someone with a cloak. Seeing no one else noticed her, Serana looked me in the eyes and smiled. I raised a flagon to her and she raised one back before disappearing into the crowd. I also spied Lydia, Jarl Balgruf, Jarl Maven Black-Briar, and all of the Companions all here for me. Even Neloth and those from Solstheim made an appearance it was as if the puzzle had been finished but lo, the puzzle hasn't even been started yet.

The Civil War had raged for 17 years. I was eighteen when I awoke in Skyrim, driven by what I thought was destiny and knew nothing of my parents or past. Lo, soon my youthful vigor later ran out and so I bragged and brawled at mead halls. I had been killing dragons for three years up to that point so needless to say any drunk who challenged me fell and fell hard.

Then I met Meridia, a good daedric prince, one of purity. It was Meridia who renewed my vigor and glorious it would have been if I had never met Boethiah, or that I ran into Miraak's henchmen. Somehow the cauldron of emotions of my soul were stirred and my zeal for Meridia was transformed into the lust of power from Boethiah and knowledge from Hermaeus Mora.

Was it fear that drove me to that place? Fear of waking up with cultists over me with torches? Or exhaustion? I was just so tired and desperate, I just wanted to not be hunted like an animal for five seconds. Then five years into adventuring I met Serana and I didn't care what others thought. I was a hot blooded male just like any other but she wouldn't have me, despite her love for me at the time.

Then a tide of patriotism came over me, I had bided power for ten years before I enlisted into the Legion and happened across Elisif. I speedily became Thane mostly because I wanted to court her. I was married at thirty-one, defeated Alduin and had a son, thirty-three when I helped Neloth and met Hermaeus Mora. I was 35 when I shouted Ulfric to dust. Three months later and I am High King, my life has been a whirlwind of blood, bone, steel and most of all stress. Studying, traveling, fighting, searching and more only to repeat it. If I was any older when I started my ambition would have died... there's a reason why they send young men to war: they're easy to motivate.

Elisif squeezed my hand harder as we waved to the crowds as we were paraded through the streets. The court wizard believes that I, like many others in Skyrim, am experiencing War-Shock. A problem with post-traumatic stress... whatever that is. Not even Serana knows of Boethiah and Hermaeus Mora but she's asked me about the armor before. Not any ebony mail can cause you to turn completely black and your enemies to slowly die around your feet if they get close enough.

I used to get a kick out of watching my foes die in a shroud of shadow. Now however, now that I have time to reflect on the things that I have done? I think I am only beginning to realize just how big some of the mistakes are that I have made.

A/N: It's a very different take on the Dragonborn. As of today (4/6/19) I finished the story! I hope you enjoy the story as much as I enjoyed writing it! I take more pride in perhaps my fights and climaxes but intros? Ehh. But maybe I'm wrong! Let me know! Be vocal and as always:

Stay swag my friends 😎