(AN: And there you are, the Morrowind hipster reviewer. I knew it wouldn't be long before I got one on my story [i had one constantly on "The Dragonborn and the Lioness", so i knew it was only a matter of time]. My brother would like you right well, as he's started playing Morrowind and has become hooked on it [racist Dunmer are okay to him because, after all, POCs can be racist all they want and get away with it because they say - they actually say - that they're not white and only white people are racists]. But instead of starting another Morrowind vs. Skyrim argument, I want to answer some of your questions. Maybe I was off with 'regiment', but I always saw a legion as 3,000. As far as Crixus goes, he doesn't wear his armor all the time because he stated in "The Dragonborn and the Lioness" that if he is noticed in armor with Eirik, his life will be forfeit. Also, his purpose in Skyrim is not just to join the Legion and kill Nords [that's just why he likes doing it]. But I can't say what his real purpose is because it is not yet time to reveal that.)

(Also, before I go on, Wetoos, let me ask you something: what do you think of Michael Kirkbride's C0DA? My brother just plain ignores that it exists [even though he, like all the other Morrowind hipsters, loves everything Kirkbride did in Morrowind and, like the Star Wars fans with Kershner or the Megadeth fans/Metallica "fans" with Dave Mustaine, believes that everything good about Oblivion and Skyrim came from Kirkbride and Kirkbride alone while all the bad stuff - playdoh heads, dragons, "HD dirt", etc. - was not his fault]. But from what I've seen, all the other Elder Scrolls fan-boys - many of them Morrowind hipsters - love it without question because...you guessed it, Kirkbride did it. Personally, it has no bearing on my story except what it said about the Empire in one little foot-note in its confusing, pseudo-existential, pompous mass of incongruent text.)

(Last words: when I say "Morrowind hipster", I am, of course, referring to the bulk of Elder Scrolls fans who believe that Morrowind was the Holy Grail of role-playing games, Vivec's gift to Mer-kind, the knees of the bees, the answer to the question "what is the meaning of life?" and that everything that came after it - namely Oblivion and Skyrim - are pure dog-shit worse than Lou Reed's last album and to be hated more than anything and anyone. I personally think that Morrowind is like Clerks and a good deal of indie movies: pretentious and not really that interesting. Now that I've pissed everybody off, on with the story.)

Morning Star's Riddle

A bucket of cold water was thrust into Eirik's face, yanking him unceremoniously out of sleep. Where was he? The walls were familiar. Was he back inside the prison of Solitude so many months ago when the Thalmor had captured him? It was all coming back to him now. There were no Thalmor this time, only Imperial soldiers. Crixus had led him into a trap. The Red Dog had skirted past Dawnstar all together and landed instead in the harbor of Solitude. By the time the sound of Imperial caligae boots was heard banging on the door to the lower decks, it was too late. There was nowhere to run and Eirik was bound before he could utter a word in the Dragon tongue.

As he tried to breathe through the soaked gag about his mouth, Eirik heard two familiar voices arguing just a little farther down the hall. One was very young and timid-sounding, the other was harsh and cultured, a Colovian general.

"I don't see what danger there could be, good general," the young voice said. "He's been bound and gagged."

"He's a rebel," the other voice replied. "And he's stubborn and refuses to acknowledge when he's been defeated, just like the rest of you Nords. There's no point in keeping him here if we can't interrogate him. Send him to the block where he belongs!"

"No, General Tullius!" the first voice said sharply. "He is not to be harmed in any way."

"Since when do we offer niceties to rebels, Elisif?" Tullius retorted. "Remember, he's in league with the man who killed your husband, High King Torygg."

"Don't remind me, general!" Elisif retorted.

"Listen, we both know that you're still inconsolable over the death of your husband," General Tullius continued. "Seeing him will only remind you of Ulfric and what he's done. You go back to the Blue Palace and let me handle this one."

"I'm fine, general."

"No, you're not."

"I said I'm fine!"

"There's no point in keeping him here!" Tullius retorted. "If you're not going to kill him yet, at least let the High Justicar deal with him. I'm sure he'll have some way of drawing the truth out of him, if rebels are even capable of speaking the truth. Just go back to the Palace, I'll have Thelgil brought in right away."

"I want to speak with him, general!"

"You don't need to speak with him, Elisif."

"Just who is in charge here, general? Am I not to be the High Queen of Skyrim?"

There was a pause until at last the General spoke.

"Only if I say so. I don't know what kind of pillow-talk you and Crixus share, or what he's done to you, but need I remind you that Skyrim belongs to the Empire? If you continue to fight me, then I will have no choice but to withdraw my troops and return to Cyrodiil. I wonder how long your claim to the throne of Skyrim would last if the Empire chose to remove their support."

"Is that a threat, general?"

"It's the truth. Last year this gods-forsaken country was in a dead-lock between loyalists and rebels. Now Windhelm is besieged and it's only a matter of time before we drag that monster out of his hiding place. The Empire made this possible, therefore you have an obligation to uphold. As long as you remember who brought you this far, there should be no problems in the future."

"Of course, general. I...I know you've always been a great help to us. I only wish to speak to the prisoner."

"Know that I disapprove."

"I am still Jarl in my own hold, I can do as I please."

There was nothing else heard for a while, giving Eirik a moment to think about what he had just heard. Windhelm was under siege. Had it really become that bad? Of course it was, he knew it without even having to think about it very much. Falkreath and Riften hadn't surrendered the office of Jarl from Maven and Siddgeir, whose pockets were filled with Imperial coin. The Empire had failed to act upon the stipulations of the treaty he had helped sign - or at least helped to arbitrate, since he was not there for the actual signing. Of course they did not fail to seize the opportunity to take Dawnstar, which could not be contested as it had been given to the Empire at the negotiating table. Eirik realized now that he had done more to harm the cause of the Stormcloaks than to help it with the peace treaty, for while he was in Sovngarde battling Alduin, the Empire was preparing to end the war with one fell swoop.

Now they had control of every hold in Skyrim save for Windhelm and Winterhold. He had been to Winterhold once and there was nothing there: just a few worn down buildings and a mage's college that half of Skyrim blamed for the destruction of the city. It was inconsequential and the Empire chose rather to make their direct move towards Windhelm, besieging the city. But even as he thought of this, Eirik wondered why Elisif and Tullius spoke in such hostile tones. The last time he had seen her, she seemed to be a wide-eyed, demurring little child who deferred to Tullius in all matters. Furthermore, his mind was sent into a swirl over what he had heard Tullius say regarding Crixus. While he was not as skilled in the art of love-making as others, Eirik guessed what pillow-talk meant and once again he recalled Crixus lashing out against Ancarion when he was called 'concubine.'

Eirik's thoughts were suddenly interrupted when two Imperial soldiers approached the cell and unlocked the door. Once inside, they dragged Eirik up onto his feet as two other Imperial soldiers entered the cell, both of them bearing torches. At last there entered Elisif the Fair, Jarl of Solitude. Though Eirik had seen her before, he did not realize just how young she really was. She seemed as lithe as a wood elf and not yet of the age of twenty. Her red-golden hair reminded him of Mjoll, but her blue eyes, wide with naivete, dispelled any similarities from Eirik's mind at once.

"I've heard that you may be the Dragonborn of legend," Elisif spoke. Eirik nodded in affirmation. "Such a pity that you side with brigands and murderers."

Into Eirik's mind flashed once again what he had seen in Sovngarde, speaking to the shade of Torygg. He moved his hands and found that they were bound behind his back and the guards who held his arms on either side clenched him even tighter when he tried to move.

"Crixus spoke very highly of you," Elisif continued. "Though why for I can't understand. He asked me to keep you here in the dungeons, bound as you are for your own protection and for ours. He knows as well as I do what you would do if you could speak, just like your Ulfric Stormcloak." Eirik said nothing.

"I didn't come here to get information out of you," she went on. "There's nothing you can give me that will make any difference. The end of the war is drawing near. All I want is to look at the face of the man who chooses a murderer over his true and lawful ruler."

The young woman held Eirik in her gaze for a while. Eirik could see doubt in her eyes, which shifted periodically away from his own. What she could possibly be thinking, other than hatred, he could not guess. But for a brief moment he saw a hint of the sadness in her eyes, the sadness of one parted from their lover. He knew what it was like to be separated from a loved one and wished that he could speak, tell her what Torygg had said to tell her. But he was gagged and there was nothing he could say or do to ease her suffering.

Elisif said nothing, but she looked away and gasped. The two guards at her left and right turned to attend her, but she brushed them away and walked out of the cell. As Eirik was thrown back onto the ground and the gate locked behind the exiting guards, he pondered Elisif's departure. He didn't exactly think of himself as physically imposing, yet the way she turned away from him suggested that she found being in his company uncomfortable.

Night had fallen, but Eirik the Dragonborn Bjornsson was not asleep. On his return to Skyrim he was imprisoned and sent to Helgen to die for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. A few months later he was a prisoner to Miraak's power, and then mere weeks later he was imprisoned in the dungeons of Solitude by the Empire under the Thalmor's orders, awaiting execution once again. Then after the Dragon crisis, he was imprisoned in Blacklight then escaped only to be imprisoned once again in the dungeons of Solitude. Were the gods still on his side?

It was at this point when he heard voices speaking down the prison corridor. He wanted to move closer to the sound but he guessed that they would notice his movement and instead remained very still. If anyone looked in on him, let them think that he was asleep and unaware of what was going on in the cell. He heard two voices speaking to each other. One was obviously a Nord, thick accented and a little crude. The other was disturbingly familiar: dark in timbre yet oily smooth.

"I've heard you've been making quite a scene down here," the smooth voice said.

"I want my money," the Nord replied.

"You've already been paid for what you did," the smooth voice replied.

"You promised me half after I did what you asked of me," said the Nord. "Well, me and the boys did that alright, just as you asked. Nobody suspected nothing."

"There was no such promise made," said the smooth voice. "You received your payment and there ends the matter."

"Well, that ain't exactly gonna happen, will it now?" asked the Nord. "If I'm not paid in full, I'll talk."

"What did you say?" asked the smooth voice, his tone becoming suddenly threatening.

"What, them elvish ears ain't heard me proper, goldenrod?" the Nord asked. "If you don't give me the other half of my share, I'll talk. I'll tell them everything. I wonder what the military governor would think when he hears that the new Thalmor ambassador, justicar or whatever you are by Shor's cock, hired a band of thugs to dress up like Stormcloaks and sack ol' Rorikstead."

In the tense, pregnant pause that followed the Nord's statement, Eirik's mind rushed immediately back to Ivarstead. He had heard something about Stormcloaks attacking Rorikstead but did not believe it until they said that they had evidence. Was this their evidence? A bandit hired by the Thalmor to impersonate to sack the town of Rorikstead while disguised as Stormcloak rebels? Once again his mind flashed back to Elenwen's office what seemed like a lifetime ago, before he met Mjoll...

The guard was out of the room and he had limited time. He carefully opened the chest and reached for the stack of folios. There were at least three of them here but no names on the leather covers. Perhaps the Thalmor didn't trust their own secret documents to have titles embossed across the covers. One of these had to show where the last Blade agent was hiding. He opened the first one, saw the name 'Delphine' at the top of the first page and stowed it aside. He pulled the next one and saw the name 'Ulfric Stormcloak' at the top and placed it next to the 'Delphine' dossier.

At last he found what he sought. The top of the page was entitled 'Thalmor dossier on Esbern, Loremaster of the Blades'. He looked down the page, quickly scanning it for any words of importance. He saw 'Falinesti', 'Akaviri', 'Cloud Ruler Temple', another disturbing remark about the 'First War against the Empire' and nothing important about the dragons. Delphine's suspicion, it seemed, was false: the Thalmor seemed to know as little about the return of the dragons as anyone else. Then at the bottom he saw it.

'We have recently obtained solid information that Esbern is still alive and hiding somewhere in Riften.'

He closed the folder and greedily shoved it underneath his arm. Riften. He had heard of the name spoken briefly by some of the guards here and there in Whiterun and Windhelm, but hadn't gotten the chance to go there and visit. They said that it was a beautiful hold but a rotten city, filled to the ends with thieves, brigands and corrupt officials: certainly an odd hiding place for a master of lore, unless that was his point, to choose the least likely hiding place. He took the other folio and placed it next to Esbern's dossier, eager to show it to Delphine as soon as he returned to Riverwood.

His eyes fell upon the last folio. Having recently joined the Stormcloaks, a desire came over him to know what the Thalmor knew about his leader and possibly next High King. He had heard more than a few less than desirable things about Ulfric since his arrival in Skyrim, even down to the very moment of his interrupted execution in Helgen with practically everyone in town cheering for the Stormcloaks to die as the headsmen took off Gunmar's head as well as the unanimous jeers and urges to hurry Rogvir's execution when he entered Solitude. There was more to Ulfric Stormcloak than just what he had seen that day at Helgen, he could feel it in his bones. The urge to open the folio at last overcame him and he, heedless of the danger, opened it up and gazed in horror at what was written therein.

'Thalmor dossier on Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm and leader of the Stormcloak rebellion

Status: asset (uncooperative), dormant, Emissary level approval
Description: Jarl of Windhelm, leader of the Stormcloak rebellion, Imperial Legion veteran
Background: Ulfric first came to our attention during the First War against the Empire, when he was taken as a prisoner of war during the campaign for the White-Gold Tower. Under interrogation, we learned of his potential value (son of the Jarl of Windhelm) and he was assigned as an asset to the interrogator, who is now First Emissary Elenwen. He was made to believe information obtained during his interrogation was crucial in the capture of the Imperial City (the city had in fact fallen before he had broken), and then allowed to escape. After the war, contact was established and he has proven his worth as an asset. The so-called Markarth Incident was particularly valuable from the point of view of our strategic goals in Skyrim, although it resulted in Ulfric becoming generally uncooperative to direct contact.

Operational Notes: Direct contact remains a possibility (under extreme circumstances), but in general the asset should be considered dormant. As long as the Civil War proceeds in its current indecisive fashion, we should remain hands-off. The incident at Helgen is an example where an exception had to be made - obviously Ulfric's death would have dramatically increased the chance of an Imperial victory and thus harmed our overall position in Skyrim. (NOTE: the coincidental intervention of the dragon at Helgen is still under scrutiny. The obvious conclusion is that whoever is behind the dragons also has an interest in the continuation of the war, but we should not assume therefore that their goals align with our own.) A Stormcloak victory is also to be avoided, however, so even indirect aid to the Stormcloaks must be...

Eirik was so deep in his memories that he almost failed to hear when the silence broke as the smooth voice - doubtlessly an elf due to the Nord's statement - finally replied.

"Who would believe an ignorant Nord bandit over a renowned member of the Aldmeri Dominion?" he mocked. "You're nothing, an insignificant snow-back, a pile of stinking refuse. Every noble and worthy thing that your precious Empire is built off was stolen from my people! Who would ever listen to you?"

"Come on, goldenrod," the Nord retorted. "Is all that talk about how you elves is better than everyone else just a bunch of hot air?"

"There is no need to fear anything from you, snow-back," sneered the elf. "I signed the order for your execution before coming down here. Enjoy the last moments of your worthless life, human."

The sound of boots walking down the hall was drowned out by taunts and mocking cries from the bandit as Eirik guessed that the elf had said all that there was to be said. As he turned back into the darkness of his cell, he began to go deeper into his own thoughts. What had horrified him so many months ago in the desk of Elenwen in the Thalmor Embassy was now coming back to haunt him. The Thalmor's whole agenda against the worship of Talos seemed like nothing compared to this. There was now no denying the fact that the Civil War was only the prelude to another war between the Empire of Tamriel and the Aldmeri Dominion of Alinor. What he had seen in that dossier proved that the Thalmor wanted Skyrim embroiled in a civil war which would leave one of the Empire's strongest provinces - and the only land uniting Cyrodiil and High Rock - so weakened that overthrowing the Empire would be child's play.

It all fell into place. The Dominion may have lost the Battle of the Red Ring, but in essence they had won the Great War. They got everything that they wanted: disbanding of the Blades by means of their execution, outlawing of Talos worship and annexation of the southwestern regions of Hammerfell. The Empire was sufficiently weakened and the Civil War only made Skyrim, and by association the Empire, weaker. The peace treaty which he thought had done absolutely nothing he saw had truly done nothing at all. The Thalmor did not even suffer a single loss from the negotiations despite Elenwen being evicted from the summit. They orchestrated a bandit attack on Rorikstead disguised as a raid by the Stormcloaks violating the treaty to get the Civil War back into action. But in one point the Thalmor had failed to consider: the tenacity and cunning of the Imperial Legion. Surely after a year of fighting, the Legion wanted a swift end to the conflict and was about to bring that end swiftly with Windhelm under siege. Now not only would the long-term threat, the second war with the Dominion, not be fought on the terms of the Empire or the people of Skyrim and not the Thalmor, the immediate threat, the Civil War, would end with Skyrim being forced back under the yoke of Imperial appeasement of Elvish whims. It all fell into place and it all meant nothing.

Eirik the Dragonborn realized that he had utterly failed.

(AN: Lots of stuff happens in this chapter, including a flash-back even though I said I wouldn't do that a lot in this story. Well, I cheated here because, like in Blacklight, Eirik is gagged, bound and imprisoned so there's not a lot of anything he can do except listen. So I wanted to give him at least something to do that wasn't just listening and inner thought. We also got a look at our villain, whom we haven't seen since the first chapter of this story. Also, there is a bit of a dynamic about the boring, spine-less straw-woman that the Empire chose to be the High Queen just because she's "young and naive" and "easily controlled" - kind of like Padme in The Phantom Menace who was easily manipulated into voting Chancellor Valoruum out of office and is therefore as guilty for the downfall of the Republic, the fall of the Jedi and the rise of the Empire as Jar Jar Binks. In the story proper, she has no personality beyond grieving widow, she just does whatever Tullius tells her to do and even ass-hole Erikur says so [by the way, he won't ever be Jarl of Solitude or High King]. The peace treaty quest shows just how spine-less she is, but that will change somewhat in this story, and, as I've hinted, it has something to do with Crixus.)

(We also got to see something that I'm sure all my reviewers will either find no problem with or actually applaud me for finally showing it: racist Nords. See, nobody in the Elder Scrolls fandom cares that Dunmer are racists and slavers, they applaud the Altmer for being racist because "they're hot" [one of the reasons i modeled Ondolemar after Tom Hiddleston and Thelgil, our main villain, after benedict c*mberb*tch], but if a Nord, a white man, shows any kind of animosity towards anyone different than him, then all Nords are ignorant scum who don't deserve the right to religious freedom or even self government or, in the case of the elf-lovers, even life at all. Of course in my story, which tries to balance out the heinous anti-Nord bias the game developers [like Kirkbride] had in the game by showing that Dunmer are racist, which is something that even Morrowind shows, if I show anyone else being racist or elitist, somebody throws a fit because "Dunmer can't be racist!" or "Imperials can't be racist!")