Valor
"This wedding will be quite expensive, Dragonborn."
Esbern was right, and the Dragonborn knew it. "Aye, it'll cost quite a lot of gold. But I am sure the crown can afford to pay off this lavish event." Valor hinted.
"Draining the funds of the Empire for your wedding might not be the smartest move, my Emperor." The old Blades historian pointed out.
"Still, somebody has to pay for it." Valor said, "I will not have my wedding be on par with peasants. I am the Emperor, and soon our new Empress will be crowned as well. Should this not be an event worthy of song?"
"While I am sure it will be a joyous event indeed, perhaps you should wait until the war is over?" Esbern asked.
"And why would I do that?"
"Lord Althalos has still evaded us, and we are not sure of his location. For all we know, he could be plotting his move to recapture the city. This wedding and that woman have taken your focus of the true objective here."
"You sound like Delphine."
"Think deeply, Dragonborn. Is she not right?" Esbern asked. "I know Delphine can be difficult at times, but she only wants you to succeed. You should be seeking to find and defeat Lord Althalos, not planning a wedding."
Valor sighed. "I will wait for Lord Destrian to return before I make my next move. Perhaps he will fetch Althalos for me."
"It's been a week. Lord Withertooth is most likely on his way back, empty handed. If he had found Althalos, he would have brought him to you by now." Esbern said, "Face it, you have more important things on your table right now than this wedding. Wait it out, marry Serana after the war is done."
"I may not live long enough to see this war finish." Valor said, his voice sounding cold.
Esbern hesitated before speaking. "That's not an attitude to have, my Emperor. The Blades are working diligently to make sure you have the highest level of protection possible."
"Titus had guards too." Valor pointed out.
"Aye, he did. But still, you need not fear about any of that." Esbern said.
"And if I die in battle?" Valor asked.
"You will not fall in battle, my Emperor. You have three fearsome dragons who will bathe your enemies in flame at your command. I assure you, there is no need to rush this wedding in fear of death."
Esbern might have been right, but even if that was the case, Valor wouldn't listen. Why could he not be married? Valor refused to follow Esbern and Delphine's philosophies on the matter. He would not dwell on Lord Althalos too long to where he could not function as a human being.
"I'm not sure what you want me to do, Esbern." Valor began, "Lord Althalos is nowhere to be found, and Destrian has not returned. Are you proposing that I march and sack every city that still supports him till we finally spot him?"
"No, I just…Never mind, Dragonborn." Esbern sounded frustrated, "I only want you to keep the war in your mind. Think about it constantly; try to use your head and figure out where Althalos could have gone. I want you to rule without rushing into this wedding. I want you to wait."
"There is no reason to wait." Valor replied.
"As you say so, Dragonborn." Esbern had finally given up.
The next day, Valor started receiving reports on the crown's gold fund. From what he had heard, the Imperial Empire was only five-hundred-thousand Septims in debt. Some to the Alik'r or Hammerfell, some that had come from High King Torryg, and even some to the Aldmeri Dominion themselves as a measure of "Good faith". Valor was surprised it was such a small amount. Less debt was good for everyone, and meant they would have an easier time paying for this wedding.
He had not spoken Serana since the day he had proposed. He had searched for her often, but nobody could tell him where she was. He would see her walk down a corridor occasionally, but it was often while he was in court. A good Emperor would not leave his subjects waiting while he met with his fiancé. So instead Valor let it pass.
But his duties were still his duties, despite how much he wanted to neglect them this particular day. His people in the Imperial City would be waiting for him, and he could not leave them hanging. He readied himself and took his place upon the Dragon Throne, the Nobles all gathering on the court's sidelines. No doubt wanting to curry some favor with him.
"My Emperor, it is a great pleasure to see you again." One of the Nobles that Valor should remember but didn't told him.
"It's a great pleasure to be here." Valor lied.
Delphine called out from below him. "All hail Valor son of Thralin, the first of his name. King of men and dragons, savior of Skyrim, leader of the Empire, champion and blessed of Akatosh, Emperor of Tamriel, and Dragonborn of legend."
The court doors opened as they always did, revealing the first case of the day. This time it was a little girl and her father, who each looked as if they lived on the streets. The girl had a sad look in her eyes that reminded Valor of himself once. Back when he was a child searching for scraps. Now I'm the Emperor.
"State your business." Valor told them.
"My Emperor, during the attack on the city, our homes were taken from us. Burnt down, all of it. The catapults ruined the only thing we had, and now we are forced to live on the streets. My own wife was raped and then slaughtered by one of your men, Emperor."
He had known that would be a problem. "Tell me what he looked like, and I will have him gelded." Valor replied.
"It is not vengeance I want, Emperor. I want my home back, and my wife. But you can't give that to me, can you?" his tone sounded harsher than perhaps it was meant.
"Watch yourself!" Delphine grunted from below him.
"Quiet." Valor slouched in his throne slightly, one of the scales started to bother him. "If it is a home you seek, I can allow you to live inside one of the abandoned homes that are not currently occupied."
"That would be splendid, Emperor."
"It will be done then." Valor said, "And as for your wife's rapist…"
"He was a tall man, one of the Nordic barbarians. He was clean shaven, with a slight widow's peak. Blonde hair if I recall, and his voice sounded as if he held a rag against his mouth."
"I will find the man of this description and have him gelded." Valor said.
"Thank you, Emperor."
More cases came and went, but nothing of true importance. There was a member of the Imperial Library who told Valor that some of his books were damaged in the battle. Another whose livestock were butchered by the town guard for laughs. Valor gave them brief and unsatisfying answers. What could he have done?
Still, the court was kept alive by Count Olvir. The brutish man once again held the trademark tankard in his grasp, drinking and cheering louder than the rest when the Dragonborn made a decree. Count Amundel of Chorrol sat on the sidelines though, sharing a laugh at Olvir's enjoyable idiocy. Had it not been for him, Valor might have given up.
Finally the guests started to fade away, and all the deeds had been done. Valor had grown so restless on his throne that he stood on occasion, so when it was all over he took that opportunity to stretch. He felt so tired he wanted to fall asleep…and that he did.
When he entered his room, he found it empty. He wasn't surprised; Serana had been oddly avoiding him all day. It didn't bother him too much; the woman probably just wanted her privacy. Valor would respect that.
He climbed into the empty bed and rested his eyes not long after. His eyelids caused his eyes to slightly burn, and he wanted nothing more than to sleep. To think about something else than the war, or Althalos, or even the wedding. All he wanted to do…was sleep.
He was lonely near the forge. He had thought there would be a smith or someone here to make this blade. But somehow Valor had seen fit to do it himself. And when it was finally done he looked at the weapon he made and saw his own reflection. His hand coursed over the Dragonbone hilt, and he felt as if it looked all too familiar. He kept on looking at himself, but threw the blade on the ground when he saw Miraak's mask.
Remember the sword. This time it was Hermaeus Mora's voice that echoed all around him. It repeated inside his head, over and over again. He wanted nothing more than it to go away, but that would never be the case. He clasped his hands over his ears, but that did not help at all.
He felt something wet grab his leg, and he was not surprised to see the tentacles that were all too common in his dreams. He suddenly felt the hilt of a sword in his hands, and looked to see fresh steel in his grasp. He sliced the tentacle like butter, and got back onto his feet, allowing him to attempt to flee.
Did you think to escape me, Miraak? You can hide nothing from me here! No matter…I have found a new Dragonborn to serve me.
He remembered that moment all too well, yet when the scene whispered in his mind, he began to panic. He felt as if Hermaeus Mora's all Seeing Eye was constantly watching him, like it was watching every step. "Go away!" he shouted, but it never did.
May he be rewarded for his service, as I am.
Those words were not a stranger to him at all, yet they held the same impact. The phrase did not echo in his mind like the others, instead it was said only once. Yet still Valor shivered at the thought of it. He still remembered that moment, and he would never forget it.
Then, after all of that, he saw Lord Althalos. When Valor saw him, the former Emperor began to run for a short while. Soon though, he stopped in his tracks. Valor caught up with him, and he saw Althalos' sword fly.
Valor ducked, and when he turned he saw that it had struck an elven soldier behind him. It was quite queer. He hadn't heard any footsteps, and he didn't see a sword in Althalos' hand in the first place. But he had little time to ponder those events, because the tentacles had latched around him. The Mede brother watched as he was being tortured, and then disappeared.
Hermaeus Mora pulled at his arms and legs, tugging them harder and harder. No matter how long the Dragonborn screamed, they never relented. Hermaeus Mora began to laugh, and the noise shot through Valor's ears like an arrow. Never had a pain felt more deadly.
Hermaeus Mora is laughing at us, you know?
Valor struggled, but could not wrench himself free. No matter what he did, his efforts were in vain. He prayed to the Divines, to his father Akatosh to let the pain go away. No prayer was answered, and then the true pain began.
The blade he had held in the beginning was in the possession of a tentacle, and with that tentacle the Lord of Knowledge and Fate rammed the sword right into his chest. Valor screamed so loud his throat burnt at the same time. But even during that pain, his eyes kept on the injury. He felt weak…so weak. Like his own life essence was leaking away. And when he noticed what was happening, it was already too late.
It was then that he woke to the sound of the door opening.
"My Emperor?"
Valor was heavily sweating. "I…Yes?"
"I have news."
The Dragonborn struggled to rise in his bed. "Good or bad?"
"Both." The soldier said, "It's about Lord Withertooth, they found him dead in the tunnels. But there's more. Lord Althalos has fled to the Deadwater, and he marshaled all of his men. They're waiting at his fort. Fifteen-thousand of them."
Hope it was okay at least. Sorry it took a while (at least by my standards) to update. i hope you all enjoyed it, and lets see who can pick apart this dream.
ZIMEXUS! IF YOU ARE STILL THERE I ORDER YOU TO RESPOND! Jk, but say something?
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