Copyright: Take what you will from this, but I own nothing...sadly...
"Archers!" The Imperial Commander shouted as the horse thief fled up the road despite his bound hands. The prisoner counted away the seconds before the fool's death. Then it happened, eight arrows pierced the man's body in a spectacular fashion. Three to his neck, two to each ankle, and the rest in his back. Blood poured onto the dirt as the man fell limp to the ground, "Anyone else feel like forfeiting their lives?"
"Wait." The commander's assistant said as he noticed the silent prisoner, "You there...step forward."
Seeing no alternative, the prisoner stepped forward and stood before the confused assistant and his gruff commander.
"Speak your name prisoner."
"Creon...Creon of Hammerfell..." The Redguard answered, his left eye reflexively closed again and again due to an uncontrolled reflex from his childhood.
"He's not on the list...what should we do with him?"
"Forget the list." The Commander balked impatiently, "He goes to the block, same as everyone else..."
"I'm sorry." The assistant apologized as if he were condemning an innocent to die, "I shall assure that your ashes return to your kinsmen in Hammerfell."
"I thank you." Creon replied as he walked away to the block that would end his empty life, "But do not bother, they would not take them."
"My emperor?" Creon shook out of his drowsy stupor, seeing a man who had once declared his execution know kneeling before him as his personal aide after a few short years.
"Forgiveness...I have lacked sleep of late." Creon apologized to the shock of Hadvar, the hero of Skyrim rubbed his scared forehead. He had been having many such episodes lately.
"I tried to warn him."
"That you did my love." Creon playfully replied to his wife who brushed off his hand as a guard motioned to Creon, "Allow the emissary in."
"What is this nonsense that we hear?" This was a great start. He had just entered foreign halls and already the Aldmeri ambassador was angering the hosts of Creon's court, "So you are the one that was spoken of. A Redguard, sitting upon a throne claiming to be emperor? Bah!"
"I appears that his fool wishes to lose his head."
"Aela." Creon said to the woman ready to pounce on the armored elf, "This emissary is a guest and will not be assailed as long as my hospitality is extended towards him and his host."
"Hospitality?" The ambassador's guards snickered while the ambassador smiled confidently, "You know call yourself king of men because of an ancient title? I even hear that you have openly restored Talos to your "Divines" and Hammerfell has joined your ranks without our consent or council."
"I was not aware that it was necessary."
"In short, your game is very amusing, pretending to be an emperor." The ambassador mused, but his smile faded when he did not gain a response from Creon, "What is your response? Redguard? Is the dirt so collected in your skin that it has molded your mind into mud?"
"How dare you!"
"Vorstag, Ria, Faendal...that will not be necessary." Creon said to his personal guards. Men and women hand-picked from a revived order loyal only to him, "For the sake of civility, could you kindly address me by my title-"
"Spare me your human pride." The ambassador balked as Creon's patience began to wear thin, "You believe that just because you crown yourself emperor that my lords will bow to your whim?"
"You do well not to interrupt the Emperor of Tamriel." Creon's wife spoke up with little patience for this rudeness towards her beloved, "Are you not familiar with the term, Dovahkin? This man has slain dragons twenty times larger than your supposed superiority. I would treat him with the respect he deserves."
"Watch your tongue imperial whore." The ambassador hissed, "Perhaps you humans would do better to teach simple wives to hold their tongues-"
"Are you requesting that I rip your's out?" The ambassador suddenly grew silent from the threatening tone of the emperor, "My wife is very special to me, you see. Do not tempt my good-will."
"The same good will that has led to the murders of hundreds of our agents?"
"Murder and self-defense are not the same, Thalmor."
"Kematu." The emperor said to one of his hosts, "Let the emissary speak the terms of his masters and then let him and his fellows be on their way."
"In other words, speak and then leave." General Tullius summarized with crossed arms and an intimidating posture despite his age.
"The Aldmeri Council has this to say of you, Emperor Creon." The messenger began, "We are willing to allow your rule as emperor as long as the terms of the White-Gold Condordat are upheld. Including the acquisition of Southern Hammerfell now that it is under your lordship. Furthermore, I believe that we will now require a cap upon your military forces and-" The messenger jumped while his guards reached for their weapons at an unexpected interruption.
Creon had sneezed.
"Sorry..." The emperor apologized while his wife silently laughed, "I am allergic to things idiotic and stupid...please continue."
"I have said all that I need to." The ambassador stated while calming himself, "What is your answer, emperor?"
"This." Creon inhaled and flipped up a coin before he made his move, "Tidd Klo Ul..." At once, his whisper brought the world to a standstill. Since everyone else save the Thalmor were sitting, one would not be able to tell.
Save for the coin that slowly flipped through the air before him, and even as he walked from his throne after kissing his wife, the coin was still flying forwards slowly.
The Emperor breathed as he stepped up to the Ambassador, drew out the man's sword and rammed the elven blade through his neck. Thankfully, the slowing of time made it possible for Creon to draw his own sword and slash his Katana through the necks of half of the ambassador's men without them retaliating...
Or getting blood on the robes that his wife had worked so hard to make.
In the waning seconds of the shout, the emperor wiped his blade upon the front of the dead ambassador's robes and took out a series of scrolls and books that were no doubt a part of his orders.
Blood splashed into the air as delayed gargles singled the death of half of the Thalmor. At this, some drew their weapons at this unexpected attack while a few remained stunned at the bloodied and deceased bodies that were alive just a mere few seconds ago.
"What...you-" The guard closest to the emperor moved to strike, but upon seeing the entire hall on their feet ready to defend their emperor, he lost hope in such an attempt.
"Return that corpse to your masters." The emperor ordered the shaking guard who was about to strike him, "And inform them that never again will Tamriel bow to their wishes. By the Nine Divines, your dominion shall soon come to an end. It is their decision as to whether that end is peaceful...or violent."
"You shall regret your decision..." The guard spat fearfully, "Dragon's Pet!"
"If you are done, then return to your masters." The emperor warned as he calmly sheathed his sword, though the remaining Aldmeri still had their weapons, they knew for certain that attacking the man who had the walls of his hall decorated with the skulls of slain dragons would be suicide.
So they fled with the corpses of their fallen as the hall cheered at their defeat and humiliation.
"That went as well as expected." "The Dominion will not broker this challenge."
"War has been looming since before the Skyrim Civil War." Creon said to his once-superior Tullius, "Now it is on the brink of fruition. Hadvar, send word to High-King Ralof that the sons of Skyrim are summoned."
"Yes, my emperor."
"Kematu...now shall the hammer fall and be fell."
"Understood, my emperor."
"The brothers await your word, Listener."
"Thank you Nazir, I shall send the signal soon."
"Be careful..."
"I will, Camilla." Creon caressed the face of his wife and lightly kissed her lips, "This will not take long."
"Of course it won't..." The Riverwood native playfully pushed off his husband as she went to tend to her personal shop. While the Emperor stalked out of his hall and made his way out of the grand hall.
Exiting the front doors, he stepped out into the courtyard of the Cloud Ruler Temple and nodded to a group of loyal subjects.
"Delphine, Esbern."
"Dovahkin." The two guildmasters of the Skyrim Blades bowed before their emperor as did the a dozen warriors following them.
"The Blades await your command." One of the blades, a Redguard by the name of Barrius reported, "As do Paarthanux's flock."
"He will be fighting with us?" On reflex, the Creon darted his eyes towards the sky as if expecting an attack from above.
Even with the World-Eater's skull in his hall, the paranoia from the constant attacks of his youth still haunted him.
"The Dragon..." Seeing his emperor's scowl, Esbern corrected himself, "Grandmaster Paarthanux feels that he would be of better aid to you in the open skies whether than the mountaintops.
"Generous, our fortunes will be better than hoped for."
"The time has come."
"Indeed it has." Creon said to the Blades Spymaster, "How can I be of assistance to your people, Nerevarine?"
Author's Notes:
Finally! The Dragonborn will now take the fight to the Aldmeri and show them the reason why he is "The One that they Fear."
Ralof eventually married Elisif and was elected high king due to the Dragonborn's influence and because he is one of the few to actually stand in Alduin's shadow and live to tell the tale.
The intention of this tale will be to the creation of a new imperial dynasty (the 4th one if you want to call it that) with flashbacks of various lengths that will chronicle Creon's rise to power and how he eventually became emperor.
Some might ask, why is the Dragonborn a Redguard? I thought it would be nice because redguards were really screwed over by both the empire and the Aldmeri after the Great War and it's pretty note-worthy that they were able to repulse the Aldmeri Dominion while the weakened but still powerful Empire...not so much...
As for why the Nervarine is there? One, it's been two hundred years since his expedition to Akavir and the man is ageless so him still being alive around now is not impossible. Two, he's cool. Three, that's a surprise.