Alright, since its been a while since Wingless Dragon has been posted, I will update you on the important bits for this story. Though it would be a good idea to read Wingless Dragon, since I won't be point out everything.
All three DLC's were finished in the other story. Dovahkiin took Alduin's soul, he leads the dragons, has his own hold and is Jarl of it.
Paarthurnax sat on the throat of the world, unsure. Something was coming but he didn't know what. Dovahkiin was doing fine in ruling, but there was something different with him. Something that put him and Odahviing on edge.
He glanced towards where Dovahkiin's fortress was, and feared. His son was doing everything Ulduin had done, making dragon priest, impregnating females to build his army. Trying to get the strongest off spring. And yet it was different. He was doing this for the second war against those elves. The war that was coming and fast.
He watched the skys and saw many dragons flying as it used to be once a long time ago. All these dragons were loyal to Dovahkiin, all followed without question. He had earned their loyalty and respect, and yet something still nagged at him.
~oooooooooooooooooooooooooo~
Dovahkiin sat in his chair and smirked as his son played by his feet. He had bread many children, but none were dragonborn. They had dragon blood in them, but it was mild meaning nothing. Many men from old could claim the same, and had. It didn't mean they were dovahkiin, it meant that at some point their mother or grandmother had been taken by a dragon and used for their pleasure. It meant nothing. It gave them no voice, it didn't make them live longer or made them stronger. They were like every other nord.
They army he had wanted to build didn't come to fruition. He had thought a army of Dovahkiins would give the greatest advantage, and it would have, but no he was the last. The prophecies had said as much, but he hadn't listened.
"Dovahkiin what troubles you?" Miraak asked taking a seat next to him.
"None of the children are Dovahkiin," he answered tiredly.
"They can still fight, they don't need to be of dragonblood to fight," Miraak reminded him.
"Yeah, but the war would have been so much easier," he grumbled.
"What fun would that have been if there wasn't a challenge?" Miraak murmured, chuckling lightly.
"Very true," Dovahkiin purred as he thought of the challenge, maybe the first dragonborn was right.
"I noticed you have breed any more children since Lydia had hers," Miraak commented, and turned his attention to the five year old at their feet.
"Ten children are enough to prove that there will be no other dragonborn. I don't need or want another child," Dovahkiin grumbled tiredly. He glanced at Miraak and rose to his feet. Ruling a province had been hard, and tiring, but now he was the power behind the thrown and it was well known. They didn't go to Balgruuf as they should, people came to him. Balgruuf turned to him, to many times to his comfort. Years ago he had turned down the throne, he didn't want or need that throne. His rule was the dragons, and yet the mortals turned to him. He sent them to Balgruuf.
"Dad, Argis is looking for you," His oldest son called as he ran into the room.
"Where is he?" Dovahkiin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"He's with the dragons on the roof," his son answered and ran from the room. Not in fear, or pouting, but because the boy just had so much energy. He couldn't get over it, a kid having so much energy. None of his brothers or sisters had as much. At first that had given him hope that his son would be a dragonborn, but that hadn't been so. He didn't taste like a dovah.
~oooooooooooooooooooooo~
He found Argis and three dragons on the roof talking heatedly. He really didn't want to know what was going on. He didn't need this right now. "This had better be damn good," he grumbled glaring at the four of them.
"There is another dead body," Argis stated.
"Who this time?" Dovahkiin asked tiredly.
"This time a woman, not originally from this hold. Dovahkiin, we have searched, questioned, tortured and found nothing. We can't figure out who this murder is," Argis retorted, his eyes angry. Dovahkiin sifted through his mind quickly, seeing what his dragon priest had seen.
"Double the guards, put out more torches so its not as dark at night," he ordered. Without another word he left the roof.
~oooooooooooooooooooooooo~
Blood flowed, screams filled his ears. A blade pierces skin, sinking deeply, her eyes dull, turning lifeless. Her blood thick on the air, her fear still lingering. Perfect, the only word for it.
People move, shadows grow dimmer, he knew he had to move quickly, no one could see him.
The sound of wings of a dragon can be heard. A red dragon soars the air, watching, waiting, but does it see him?
No it didn't, the dragon moves off once more.
He feels heat near, it is weak, useless. Quickly he grabs it, forcing it to move with him. He covers its mouth so no sound can be heard. Weak, so weak. This one is beneath him like all the rest. All these soft flesh are useless.
Soon, only a few more need and then he will be free to reign. Free to retake his place where he belongs.