Bend Will by Herdo:
This is a short and shitty fic about the meeting between the Emperor of Tamriel and a megalomaniacal Dragonborn during the notorious Hail Sithis! quest.
Rated: Fiction T - English - Fantasy - Dragonborn/Dovahkiin, Titus Mede II - Words: 1,242 - Published: Aug 12, 2013 - Status: Complete - id: 9586520:
Bend Will
The wood of the ship groaned as the powerful currents slammed into it. The Katariah lay anchored in the sea just outside Solitude, waiting for Commander Maro and his last troops to gather the last of the supplies for the long voyage back to the Imperial City. But in their confidence that the threat of the Dark Brotherhood was deal with once and for all, the crew grew neglectful of its duties and failed to notice the man cloaked with shadows who climbed into the ship via the anchor…
-------
The Listener opened the door and entered the Emperor's quarters with the master-key that he had found on a few of the still warm corpses. He had butchered the crew single-handed. It was a testimony of his skills in the art of assassination.
The room was warm and brightly lit, with a grand view of the Ghost Sea through the windows. And the old man clad in the majestic robes stopped in the middle of turning a page of some book and looked up. The eyes landed on the robed intruder, swiftly analyzing the equipment and outfit of the assassin. The eyes showed no signs of age or weakness. They were sharp and confident.
This bald old and bearded man was without a doubt the Emperor. The Listener could feel it. This was the real Tidus Mede II. No idiotic decoy. This was the man in charge of the Empire of Tamriel and the greatest enemy and ally of the Thalmor.
The old man let out a heavy sigh and put down the book and placed it on his desk. "I told him. I told Commander Maro that he was a fool for believing that the ancient order of the Dark Brotherhood could be destroyed. I've done my research. You guys are quite dedicated when you put your minds to it. One cannot escape a contract of the Dark Brotherhood. Your mother and father both seem to make sure of that."
The old man paused to get a moment to breathe.
"But before you kill me – and I know that you will kill me, I have a request. Would you be so kind to listen to what I have to say? An old fool' last words, if you may?"
The assassin remained silent.
"I thank you for your courtesy. Now I know that my fate is to die at your hand but I'm wondering if you could do me a favor. Someone who apparently holds allegiance to the Empire put together this bloody plot. Only a noble could have the guts and resources to create this murderous idea. I want this instigator, no, this traitor, punished. My last wish is that you kill this traitor for his audacity. Could you do this last task for this old man so that I can die without a single regret in my life?"
The assassin was silent for a moment before he shook his head.
The Emperor was clearly disappointed. "I see. Well, I guess even assassins have their own rules that they need to follow. I won't argue with you. Now then, shall we get-"
The Listener interrupted the old man with a whisper:
"You won't die today. You're going to live."
The words of the assassin shocked the Emperor into silence, which led to a brief yet awkward silence. Why would an assassin say words like that?!
"I have great ambitions and I am afraid that the options that Skyrim have to offer is not enough for me. I want something more than the leadership of assassins, mages, thieves or mercenaries. All of them are not enough for my plans and desires. I've begun with the preparations and the Princes will be most pleased."
The Emperor was clearly intrigued. "The Princes? Do you speak of the Daedric Princes of Oblivion?"
The assassin nodded.
"I'll say. I was expecting a professional assassin but instead someone far more interesting approached me. Do you mind telling me more about you? Which Princes do you serve and who are you?"
The assassin seemed to hesitate for a moment before he spoke once again, in that raspy whisper of his.
"Three Princes have made me their champion: Hermaeus Mora, Mephala and Boethiah. I am the Last Dragonborn and I'm practically the one in charge of most factions in Skyrim. But what I want lay beyond the borders of Skyrim. I want the political power of the Empire. And that is why you won't die."
"I'm afraid that I do not understand. How would you gain power over the Empire by sparing my life? It's not like I'll owe you for sparing me. You would actually risk execution if you spare me. So what is your goal?"
The assassin made a raspy chuckle. "You could call it a promotion. Gol Hah!" The surprising and deafening Thu'um smashed into the Emperor who felt his will bend by the overwhelming raw power of the Bend Will shout, a magical shout in the language of dragons, a language which manipulates reality itself. He tried to resist for a moment but the shout was too powerful and it quickly overwhelmed his will, bending it into servitude.
The Emperor collapsed on the floor due to the disorientation but after a few minutes crawled into a kneeling position before the cloaked Dragonborn.
"What are your orders, my master?"
The assassin grinned beneath his hood. He had claimed the first puppet and thus the first step to becoming the de facto ruler over the continent was complete. The Emperor was the first. Ulfric and Tullius would be the seconds, to put an end to the civil war of Skyrim. The rulers of Black Marsh, Hammerfell and Morrowind would soon be claimed after that. And finally not even the Thalmor would then be able to stand in his way of domination.
He would bend the will of all who oppose him. All resistance that could possible hinder his ambitions would be weak due to the rampage of the returning dragons and therefore easy to defeat and enslave with the power of his Thu'um that he had stolen from Miraak in the Oblivion Realm known as Apocrypha, who had served Hermaeus Mora as the previous champion.
Tamriel and everything in it would be his. The ancient artifacts. The shiny treasures. The beautiful women. The mysterious magic. The countless weapons and the fragile lives of the citizens. Everything would be his and his alone. The god he worshiped, Talos, had managed to unite the continent and he would finally be able to follow the path and footsteps of his god.
The Dragonborn fingered on the Elder Scroll in his pocket. Once he had conquered the continent, then he would return to the Throat of the World, read the scroll and find out the secret about Dragonrend from within the time-wound and then use it on Alduin. The World-Eater would never devour the world. He would not allow it. Not as long as he lives and rules.
He gave the orders to the puppet Emperor who would obey them without hesitation and then he jumped off the ship, swimming ashore with ease, not bothered at all by the freezing water.
It was time to infiltrate Castle Dour in Solitude to carry on with the next step of his grand ambition…
This is a short and shitty fic about the meeting between the Emperor of Tamriel and a megalomaniacal Dragonborn during the notorious Hail Sithis! quest.
Rated: Fiction T - English - Fantasy - Dragonborn/Dovahkiin, Titus Mede II - Words: 1,242 - Published: Aug 12, 2013 - Status: Complete - id: 9586520:
Bend Will
The wood of the ship groaned as the powerful currents slammed into it. The Katariah lay anchored in the sea just outside Solitude, waiting for Commander Maro and his last troops to gather the last of the supplies for the long voyage back to the Imperial City. But in their confidence that the threat of the Dark Brotherhood was deal with once and for all, the crew grew neglectful of its duties and failed to notice the man cloaked with shadows who climbed into the ship via the anchor…
-------
The Listener opened the door and entered the Emperor's quarters with the master-key that he had found on a few of the still warm corpses. He had butchered the crew single-handed. It was a testimony of his skills in the art of assassination.
The room was warm and brightly lit, with a grand view of the Ghost Sea through the windows. And the old man clad in the majestic robes stopped in the middle of turning a page of some book and looked up. The eyes landed on the robed intruder, swiftly analyzing the equipment and outfit of the assassin. The eyes showed no signs of age or weakness. They were sharp and confident.
This bald old and bearded man was without a doubt the Emperor. The Listener could feel it. This was the real Tidus Mede II. No idiotic decoy. This was the man in charge of the Empire of Tamriel and the greatest enemy and ally of the Thalmor.
The old man let out a heavy sigh and put down the book and placed it on his desk. "I told him. I told Commander Maro that he was a fool for believing that the ancient order of the Dark Brotherhood could be destroyed. I've done my research. You guys are quite dedicated when you put your minds to it. One cannot escape a contract of the Dark Brotherhood. Your mother and father both seem to make sure of that."
The old man paused to get a moment to breathe.
"But before you kill me – and I know that you will kill me, I have a request. Would you be so kind to listen to what I have to say? An old fool' last words, if you may?"
The assassin remained silent.
"I thank you for your courtesy. Now I know that my fate is to die at your hand but I'm wondering if you could do me a favor. Someone who apparently holds allegiance to the Empire put together this bloody plot. Only a noble could have the guts and resources to create this murderous idea. I want this instigator, no, this traitor, punished. My last wish is that you kill this traitor for his audacity. Could you do this last task for this old man so that I can die without a single regret in my life?"
The assassin was silent for a moment before he shook his head.
The Emperor was clearly disappointed. "I see. Well, I guess even assassins have their own rules that they need to follow. I won't argue with you. Now then, shall we get-"
The Listener interrupted the old man with a whisper:
"You won't die today. You're going to live."
The words of the assassin shocked the Emperor into silence, which led to a brief yet awkward silence. Why would an assassin say words like that?!
"I have great ambitions and I am afraid that the options that Skyrim have to offer is not enough for me. I want something more than the leadership of assassins, mages, thieves or mercenaries. All of them are not enough for my plans and desires. I've begun with the preparations and the Princes will be most pleased."
The Emperor was clearly intrigued. "The Princes? Do you speak of the Daedric Princes of Oblivion?"
The assassin nodded.
"I'll say. I was expecting a professional assassin but instead someone far more interesting approached me. Do you mind telling me more about you? Which Princes do you serve and who are you?"
The assassin seemed to hesitate for a moment before he spoke once again, in that raspy whisper of his.
"Three Princes have made me their champion: Hermaeus Mora, Mephala and Boethiah. I am the Last Dragonborn and I'm practically the one in charge of most factions in Skyrim. But what I want lay beyond the borders of Skyrim. I want the political power of the Empire. And that is why you won't die."
"I'm afraid that I do not understand. How would you gain power over the Empire by sparing my life? It's not like I'll owe you for sparing me. You would actually risk execution if you spare me. So what is your goal?"
The assassin made a raspy chuckle. "You could call it a promotion. Gol Hah!" The surprising and deafening Thu'um smashed into the Emperor who felt his will bend by the overwhelming raw power of the Bend Will shout, a magical shout in the language of dragons, a language which manipulates reality itself. He tried to resist for a moment but the shout was too powerful and it quickly overwhelmed his will, bending it into servitude.
The Emperor collapsed on the floor due to the disorientation but after a few minutes crawled into a kneeling position before the cloaked Dragonborn.
"What are your orders, my master?"
The assassin grinned beneath his hood. He had claimed the first puppet and thus the first step to becoming the de facto ruler over the continent was complete. The Emperor was the first. Ulfric and Tullius would be the seconds, to put an end to the civil war of Skyrim. The rulers of Black Marsh, Hammerfell and Morrowind would soon be claimed after that. And finally not even the Thalmor would then be able to stand in his way of domination.
He would bend the will of all who oppose him. All resistance that could possible hinder his ambitions would be weak due to the rampage of the returning dragons and therefore easy to defeat and enslave with the power of his Thu'um that he had stolen from Miraak in the Oblivion Realm known as Apocrypha, who had served Hermaeus Mora as the previous champion.
Tamriel and everything in it would be his. The ancient artifacts. The shiny treasures. The beautiful women. The mysterious magic. The countless weapons and the fragile lives of the citizens. Everything would be his and his alone. The god he worshiped, Talos, had managed to unite the continent and he would finally be able to follow the path and footsteps of his god.
The Dragonborn fingered on the Elder Scroll in his pocket. Once he had conquered the continent, then he would return to the Throat of the World, read the scroll and find out the secret about Dragonrend from within the time-wound and then use it on Alduin. The World-Eater would never devour the world. He would not allow it. Not as long as he lives and rules.
He gave the orders to the puppet Emperor who would obey them without hesitation and then he jumped off the ship, swimming ashore with ease, not bothered at all by the freezing water.
It was time to infiltrate Castle Dour in Solitude to carry on with the next step of his grand ambition…
