Rating: Rated T for violence, dark themes, and some language.

Disclaimer: Skyrim is the property of Bethesda Game Studios.

This is the fifth installment in The Dragonblood Saga. Please read Honor Bound, Madness Rising,Into Ashes,and Bitter Faith before starting this story.


Explosions rocked the heavy stone walls of the city, launched from the Imperial catapults lined up some distance away on the hillside. The bodies of several Stormcloaks lay dead at my feet, their bodies peppered with my arrows. I stepped around them, following the rest of this band of Imperial soldiers to the entrance of the Palace of Kings. General Tullius and Legate Rikke were in the lead, and as we stopped at the doors the former beckoned to me.

"You, Dragonborn, you're with us." To everyone else, he shouted, "The rest of you, guard the Palace. Make sure no one else gets in!"

Rikke and Tullius marched in first, their weapons at the ready. I followed close behind them, slinking quietly around the outer edge of the hall. Ulfric was on his throne, waiting. Just waiting. And watching us. He looked relaxed, but his eyes were hard and wary. He didn't fool me. I could tell that he was poised to strike at any moment.

"Ulfric Stormcloak!" Tullius roared. "You are guilty of insurrection, murder of Imperial citizens, the assassination of King Torygg, and high treason against the Empire. It's over."

"Not while I'm still breathing, it's not," Galmar snarled, drawing his axe.

Rikke, however, sheathed her blade. "Step aside, Galmar. We're here to accept Ulfric's surrender."

Ulfric glowered at her. "I'll never surrender Skyrim into the hands of a corrupt and dying Empire."

"Skyrim doesn't belong to you, Ulfric," Rikke said.

"No… but I belong to her."

I made a quiet gagging sound, and the Jarl glared in my direction.

"Enough!" The General snapped. "You are traitors and will die traitors' deaths. Stand down and face public execution, or advance and face summary execution by my hands. It matters little to me. Either way I'll be sending your heads back to Cyrodiil."

A tense silence descended on the room. Blood from a cut on my brow that I'd sustained in the prior siege dripped into my eyes and I wiped it away impatiently.

"Well," Galmar finally asked, "what are we waiting for?"

Chaos erupted. Galmar tackled Tullius, and Rikke dragged him back by the back of his neck. While they were preoccupied, I leapt over them to take a swing at Ulfric. He tried to dodge, but he was too slow. My blade cut a deep gash across his chest. He stumbled off the dais and I landed on his throne, perching on the edge as I prepared for another swing. He Shouted at me and my sword was wrenched from my hand. I heard it clatter away across the hall and out of my reach.

"Big mistake," I snarled.

I pounced, ramming into him and knocking him to the floor. My hands were instantly at his throat and fire roared to life in my palms. Instantly, I could smell his skin burning. No one, no one disarms me!

Strong arms hoisted me off of Ulfric and tossed me away. Galmar. I slammed into the table that ran down the length of the hall and slid several feet across its top. I was dazed, but I was too angry to be down for long. I stumbled to my feet just in time to see Rikke run Galmar through with her sword. Then I ran straight for Ulfric. He was backed up against the throne. Angry burns in the outlines of my handprints marked his neck. His free hand clutched his chest, but he was unable to stem the blood that ran profusely from the wound I'd dealt him. He looked up just in time to see my fist as I sent it crashing into his face. There was a satisfying crunching noise as his nose shattered beneath my blow and he went down on his knees.

"Well Ulfric," Tullius said as he walked up to stand beside me, "you can't escape from me this time. Any last requests before I send you to… to wherever it is you people go when you die?"

"Sovnegarde, sir," Rikke cut in.

"Right. Well?"

Ulfric looked up at us. Blood covered his face and dripped down his chest. "Let the Dragonborn be the one to do it. It'll make for a better song."

"Song or not, I just want it done," Tullius groaned.

I looked at the General and back down at the man at my feet.

"I won't give him the satisfaction," I said, glaring at Ulfric.

"Fine by me."

Tullius stalked up to the crouched Jarl and swung down with his blade. There was a loud thunk and a spurt of crimson. Ulfric's body collapsed on the dais.

"Talos be with you," Rikke murmured.

"What was that, Legate?" Tullius looked up. He'd started to clean the blood off his sword.

"Nothing. Just… saying goodbye."

The General sheathed his sword with a sigh. "Well, the men will be expecting some kind of speech. And we'll need to hand the city over to that Free-Winter fellow."

"Brunwulf. Yes, I've sent men to protect him and bring him here. Windhelm will need a government quickly if we are to prevent more violence."

"The Legion will be staying here for quite some time. I don't expect there to be any further violence. Now to deliver a speech…"

Rikke and I followed him out of the palace. The legionnaires were already assembled before the palace doors. Most of them sported some kind of injury, but every one of them stood to attention all the same. The two of us hung back and the General cleared his throat before addressing the crowd standing before him.

"The rebellion is over," he cried. "Ulfric Stormcloak is dead. His head will be sent to Cyrodiil where it will adorn a spike on the walls of the Imperial City. Let this day be a final warning to all who would still call themselves Stormcloaks. We are turning the city over to Brunwulf Free-Winter, an honorable and faithful man. Many of you will be staying in Windhelm to aid the Jarl in restoring order and stamping out any embers of rebellion that may still smolder here. In appreciation of your exemplary service, I am doubling your pay and compensation to the widows of your fallen comrades. I am proud of all of you. All hail the Emperor! All hail his Legionnaires!"

The soldiers cheered. As the crowd slowly dispersed, General Tullius rubbed his temples and grumbled, "I hate giving speeches."

"It wasn't so bad," Rikke told him with a shrug.

"I hope we haven't just created a martyr."

"There's bound to be resistance. There are still many Stormcloak camps tucked away in the hills. They'll no doubt strike whenever and wherever they can, but without Ulfric to enflame their passions, they'll settled down and return to their homes eventually."

"In the meantime, we'll continue to root them out and put them to the sword," Tullius cut in firmly.

"We couldn't have done this without you. The Empire glories in your accomplishments," he said to me. When I inclined my head in acknowledgment of his praise, he nodded to the Legate. "Come, Rikke. There's still much to be done."

I left them and headed back out of the smoldering city with some of the others. We went up the hill just outside Windhelm, past the catapults that had rained fire down on the city during the siege, to the Imperial camp we'd set up just before the attack. I doubted it would matter much if I stayed. I was sure that between Tullius, Rikke, and the new Jarl, they had everything under control. Besides, I wanted to get back home. Ma was worried enough as it was without an unnecessary delay.

As I walked through the rows of tents, I heard a set of footsteps hurrying toward me. I turned sharply to see a courier. He stopped, breathing hard.

"Got something I'm supposed to deliver. Your hands only," he said between gasps of air.

He reached into his bag and I rolled my eyes. Ma…

He pulled a letter out and squinted at it. "It's from… Falk Firebeard at the Blue Palace?" The courier whistled in amazement. "You've got friends in high places."

I grabbed the letter from him, frowning. Falk? What did he want? I'd done some work for the Thane a few months back clearing the necromancers from a cave near Dragonbridge. Since then, nothing. I slit open the seal and unfolded the parchment. My eyes quickly scanned the writing on the page.

Mara Dragonborn,

Over the last few days we've had some disturbing information come to light regarding the events at Wolfskull Cave and the summoning and binding ritual you interrupted there.

Given your involvement with that event I'm asking you to return to solitude to help us once more. I'm wary of putting all the details in print. Please come see me at the Blue Palace.

Sincerely,

Falk Firebeard

That didn't sound good.

Looking up at the courier, I said, "Go rest. Get yourself some food. Tell them Mara sent you and you won't have any trouble. I have a letter I need to write."

I hurried off, back to my tent. The moment I was inside, I snatched a piece of parchment, a quill, and some ink. Unnecessary delays were one thing, but this was another matter entirely. I'd stopped the necromancers from summoning Potema Septim in that cave. The Wolf Queen. I wasn't a scholar, but from what I knew about her she was dangerous and one of the last people we needed wandering around Skyrim. If something went wrong…

Ma,

The siege is over. I'm fine, and the Empire has Windhelm. Tell Da the legionnaires would have made him proud.

Something's come up, though, and I can't make it home just yet.

I snorted. I was sure she'd be thrilled about that. No matter what I said, she'd have a fit.

I can't say here because I don't know all the details yet, and what I do know (or suspect) I'd rather not get out. Just understand that it's very important and that if I could avoid it and just go back to Whiterun, I would. This is something I have to deal with myself. Don't worry about me. I've made it through far worse than this. Tell everyone I miss them and I'll be home as soon as I can.

Mara

I sighed. Setting down the quill, I rubbed my temples. That should placate her for a while. I sealed the letter and went back out. A few minutes later I found the courier again.

Handing the letter to him, along with some coin, and said, "Take this to Juliana in Whiterun. Got it?"

He nodded and hurried off. I watched him go, feeling some slight relief. One problem down, one to go. It was time to see what exactly Falk had learned that made him so nervous.


It was morning when I arrived at the Blue Palace. Most of Jarl Elisif's Thanes hadn't yet made it in, so it was mostly just servants hurrying about the palace's halls. The guards that stood watch looked bored. I hurried up the stairs and into the throne room. The Jarl herself wasn't there yet, but Falk was. He caught sight of me and let out and audible sigh of relief.

"The courier must have found you," he said.

"I know I'm not always the easiest person to get ahold of, but he managed it," I told him. "So, the message you sent said something about Wolf Skull cave?"

The Thane glanced around and said in barely more than a whisper, "Yes, and I'm afraid it's not good news."

"What happened?"

"When you broke up the binding Potema escaped," he told me. "We've encountered some of her minions. Styrr says she's still in spirit form or we'd all be dead already."

"Shit." Just when things had actually started to go well…

"You've already done us a service in stopping the binding, but I need you to go talk to him, to see if Styrr can tell us what to do next."

"Who is this Styrr?"

"He's Solitude's priest of Arkay," Falk explained. "He's the one who figured out Potema was still around. He'll help as much as he can."

"And… why me?"

Falk sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm not really sure. Styrr thinks you have some sort of link to Potema. I trust his judgment on this. As a priest of Arkay he's had to deal with necromancy before. Nothing as dangerous as Potema, though."

"All right. I'll talk to Styrr. We'll figure something out."

"I wish you well, friend." Falk hesitated and added, "Be careful."

"When am I ever not?" I asked him with a small, cynical smile before turning to leave the palace.