I must say, writing this story is surprisingly effortless, considering writer's block that tormented me before I started. Before we start, let's give an answers to my reviewers so far:

empire1003 - Then I hope I will give Morrowind justice, so that you can see it from the best side.

Unclebourbon - Hopefully I'll keep up with quality. Thank you.

guest - I realize some may prefer it, but personally I like the lack of restrictions in how much I can reveal while writing. By writing in Ted's POV I would have to at least give up some jokes, which doesn't really sit well with me - I like my option to joke about anything anytime. There might be of course moments when I switch to first POV for the sake of building up tension, but most of the time I'll write in third. That's just part of my style.

I would like to thank people who already favourited, followed or even viewed the story, even though we haven't even gotten to the true beginning of the plot. Thanks for putting up with me, I know my grammar can be hideous, English isn't my first language. Also, thank you for not burning me at stake for not stating that Elder Scrolls doesn't belong to me. In all honestly, why so many people write those disclaimers? It's not like this site, which by the way is called FANfiction, commands you to add them. That being said, enjoy.

Alright, there's no arguing that a mental breakdown is a terrible thing to experience. However, sometimes, if you pick the correct person in the right circumstances and, well, if you are a bit of a jerk, it can be quite amusing to watch.

Just like in this case.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" screamed Ted, staring at his wing. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" he continued, looking at the other wing. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" Ted chased his own tail for a few seconds. "Aaaaaa~ Oh, GOD, where's Junior?!" he screeched, taking a peek at his crotch. This action was followed by an attempt at reaching there with what was left of his hand (three fingers attached to his wing). Of course, due to his new anatomy, this kind of movement was impossible. "No, no, no!" Suddenly, in the weak light of the torch, he spotted a big wooden crate a bit to the left. Ted jumped and collided with it, crate smashing him between the legs. "Argh! Alright, it hurt less than it should, but it did hurt, so Junior is still there, probably under the scales... Oh God, why, why, why..."

At this point Ted attempted to curl up in a fetal position, but discovered he couldn't do even that. After this failure he slumped to the ground and closed his eyes. "This is a dream, this is a dream, this is... Wait, can you even feel pain while asleep?" He stiffened, trying to recall what he knew about biology. "Hold on, yes, I remember, it can happen, but it's very unlikely... Well, turning into a dragon is even more unlikely, so it must be that... Oh, who am I kidding, my dreams are never so realistic!" Ted bonked his head on a rock. "That leaves... hallucinations, a coma and Loki being real."

The next few minutes were spent on pondering in a relative silence, interrupted occasionally by his growls. Finally, after a quarter of an hour, Ted opened eyes, raised his head and sighed deeply.

"Well" he began. Perhaps it will make more sense if I will say it out loud. "I'm either in a coma or I finally went crazy from all this shit I had to deal with because of Jerry. Wouldn't surprise me, really. I'm not even going to entertain the idea that I'm both sane and conscious." He smiled. "Either way, this must be my Happy Place. Where I'm a dragon. That... actually sounds legit. Dragons are at the very top of the list of fantasy creatures I like. And if this is indeed my mind... then I can do whatever I want. If I'm physically in some hospital, then I might as well have some fun with lucid dreaming. Jerry is a jerk, but he would call an ambulance if something serious happened to me."

He took a look at his surroundings. The cave was round, with only one way out, which was cloaked in darkness. Except for the area near said exit, the place was filled with water. There was no hole in the ceiling - not that he expected to see one here, as the pit was part of the real world, not his fantasy. To his left and right stood some crates. Ted crawled to one of them and looked inside. It was filled with bottles. He wasn't sure in this faint light, but it looked like wine.

"Yep, theory confirmed, that's my Happy Place. My favourite kind of booze."

And then terrible realization hit him.

"...How am I supposed to drink it?"

...

"...Fuck. My subconscious is a dick. Gives me two great things that can't be enjoyed at the same time."

He shrugged.

"Oh well. I can take a drink when conscious, but I can't fly on my own then, right? Yes, that's what I should do now. First some flight, then I'll find some figment of my imagination, preferably one with an appearance of Jerry, and roast it, just because I can... Man, I really hate that guy."

Ted braced himself.

"To the surface, please!"

Silence.

"Sure. One time I have a dream that I know is a dream and I still can't fully control it."

"I'll ask for the last time, outlander scum. Why. Were. You. In. The. Cave?!"

Fjol winced. That man sure had no patience.

It was official, the Divines had cursed him. He managed to escape the wrath of the dragon, only to run into the outlaw that owned the place just outside the entrance, leaving little place for excuses. He couldn't even hide, there were no places to do so in this foyada, just a long, empty road between two small mountain chains. And the worst thing about the enemy?

He was a Dunmer. One that disarmed him in five seconds, knocked him out, and tied him up. The only reason his old man wouldn't disinherit him for that was because he had already thrown him out for banditry.

"I told you already, I only searched for a place where I could wait out the rain" he said. The best lies are those that have some truth to them.

"And you accidentally picked the cave in which my friends made their stash?" snarled the elf.

Keep talking, ashface. One more minute and I'm out of here.

"Don't act so suspicious, pointy ears. Half of the caves in this province is filled with bandits. I was trying to find one that isn't." He hesitated for a moment. Should he mention it? Well, it would make him look like a fool, but it will probably give him some time... "By the way..." he started. " I didn't know you dark elves still had some dragons around."

It was clear, even with the helmet on, that he completely surprised his captor.

"Dragons? What are you talking about, there are no..." He stopped for a second, blinked and burst into laugh. "By Vivec, you Nords sure traded brains for brawns. Those are called cliff racers."

"Are they worth anything on the black market?" Yes, keep talking, I'm almost done...

This question only caused more laugh.

"No, idiot. One cliff racer is already one too many in this world."

"Then why do you keep one in your cave?"

"...What?"

Fjol shrugged as much as could while tied.

"You think I jumped out of there like that for no reason at all? I turn the corner and boom, dragon."

The Dunmer's palm met his helmet. In the meantime Fjol almost finished cutting the ropes on his back with his dagger.

"I can't believe your stupid species managed to force ours to join your little Empire." The elf sighed. "To be scared of a cliff racer... If there was one, that is. They just don't land outside of their nests. Look, the only thing they do is fly down and try to scratch your face off or bomb you from above just to spite you... and sometimes they steal your sweetroll, flying bastards. A cliff racer not only landing, but also crawling into the cave? Please, if you lie, at least put some effort into this... You had some reason, didn't you? What are you hiding?"

"Huh, so it's the Elder Scrolls... I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?"

Heads of both outlaws turned so fast in direction of the entrance to the cave it almost broke their necks. It was a lucky thing that Dunmer had a helmet on or else he would have lost his jaw after it dropped.

"Drem yol lok. Or, as you joore say, hello." If you were to look into a dictionary, you would find a picture of Ted's present expression right under "shit-eating grin". "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I need some pointers. Which way is the nearest sahsun... I mean, village?" For a second dragon's smile tensed, but almost immediately it returned to his default smirk. "I always wanted to set one on fire without any bad consequences."

Fjol, since it wasn't his first contact with the beast, shook off the surprise first and, not caring much for either town, gladly answered.

"We're halfway between Hla Oad and Seyda Neen. The first one is a bit bigger." Also, Dunmers make up more population, so that's another plus.

Suddenly life came back into the other outlaw. With shaking hands he pulled out a blade and pointed it towards the new opponent.

"S-stay back! I won't hesitate to fight you!"

Dragon only smiled.

"I'm sure you won't, fahliil" Again strange expression, just as brief as the last one. "But the question is - is your blade faster than my tongue? Can it impact me faster than my words can impact you?" The beast took a step and another. Mer tried to keep distance, but he tripped and landed on the ground, with his weapon falling just out of reach. Before he could pick it up, the enemy closed the gap.

"Let's see how fireproof you Dunmers really are."

Dragon took a deep breath, while his victim lied there petrified with fear. Fjol, who by this time managed to free himself, decided to not wait and see if he will be the second victim, so he run off as fast as possible.

The killer opened his jaw.

"Yol... Toor Shul!"

And then, poor mer died a terrible, but mercifully quick dea... Oh wait, no, he didn't. He got only slightly sprayed with dragon saliva.

This turn of events seemed to surprise both of them.

Alright, that's just stupid. First I'm speaking in Dovahzul when I don't want to and now, even though I'm a freaking dragon in the world of Elder Scrolls inside my head, I can't shout a bandit to death?! What's next, the Empire actually wins the civil war instead of the true sons of Skyrim?!

Ted closed his eyes and shook his head. Something was wrong. Sure, subconsciousness can sometimes be an evil bastard, but if it wanted to torture him, it wouldn't put him in one of his favourite fantasy scenarios in the first place. He opened eyes.

Hold on. Where's the elf?

*JAB*

"Argh!" shouted Ted and jumped to the side. The bandit was again in possession of his sword, which he already used with some success - there was a shallow cut on his side. There was even some blood leaking out, though not much.

Blood. His blood.

Suddenly, for some reason, Ted was overwhelmed by a very bad thought - what if, by some cruel joke of the fate, it was real?

"Die, monster!"

Another cut, this time on his flank. Deeper, too.

Red flags were raised inside his mind, even though both wounds were far from lethal. Panic was in full control.

"NO!" Ted turned away from the prey that suddenly became the hunter and attempted to escape. It was of course not possible - there was a reason why a dragon hit with a Dragonrend could not escape from the Dragonborn. Dragons don't run, period. Once grounded, they crawl.

No, it won't work, the bandit is faster on foot! I'll have to fly away!

Ted had no idea how to, but he had to take to the air at any cost. With no other option, he unfurled his wings. Unbalanced, he ended up with his chin hitting the ground, but still he gave one powerful flap with what used to be his arms. Despite all logic, it was enough to lift him a little bit.

Inside his head, Ted's sanity had flipped the table and left.

The first flap was quickly followed be the second, which got him out of Dunmer's range, and a third, this time only because it was better than letting the gravity do it's job. Ted's irrational fear of death at elf's hands gave way to bewilderment at his current position, which soon turned to fear once more, as he realized he had no idea what to do besides flapping... which was getting him higher than he wished to be, considering his rediscovered belief in reality of what was happening to him. He already was higher than the mountains making up the canyon.

He was sure it wasn't the correct word, but do you think he cared at the moment about linguistic correctness?

And then, as if the situation wasn't bad enough for our hero, a strong gust of wind came from the north, tilting slightly the drake in the air.

"Noooot aaaagaaaaaain!" screeched Ted, half gliding and half falling in the direction of the sea, leaving the foyada in the process.

Around three hundred meters below, the Dunmer scratched his head, still surprised about how suddenly he went from dying to scaring off a dragon. With two pokes of the sword, no less.

"No wonder they went extinct."

"Bwahahahaha! This is even better than I expected! And I expected him to eat his own intestines or get killed by a mudcrab! Oh, what I wouldn't give to see the look on Akatosh's face right now... if he HAD a face, that is! Which he DOESN'T. Haskill, bring the drinks, bring the dancers! We need to celebrate this! Akatosh not having a face, I mean. Don't invite Clavicus, though. He keeps stealing my umbrellas."

"As you wish, my lord."

Every time he saw dragon landing on the ground in the game, it always looked a bit rough, maybe even painful. And that was the "proper" landing. Not crash landing.

Well, it could have been much worse. Instead of slamming into the ground at full speed, he had managed to pull off gliding in the last two seconds of fall, and then hit not the ground, but a shallow bay, taking his second forced bath this day. It still hurt though.

That leads us to a grumpy Ted sitting in the water, with only his head above the surface due to his new, longer neck.

"I'm done," he proclaimed to several frogs and a slaughterfish, which apparently decided that biting through dragon scales was its new life goal. "I'm sooooo done. I'm pretty sure I'm not a masochist at heart, but that means all of this is real. Which I refuse to believe in. I'm not drunk enough to deal with this kind of bullshit."

He sighed.

"I must find a place to nap, maybe that would help. Not in the open though."

Ted scanned his surroundings and, for once, fate had shown him mercy. The dragon dragged himself onto the shore and crawled over to the round structure he remembered very well from the third installment of Elder Scrolls.

"So... a Dunmer tomb. The wood in the door is rotten, so it's most likely forgotten by everyone." He mumbled to himself and shrugged. Don't ask how it worked with dragon body. "It's much bigger than it seemed back then, but it still will be a pain to get inside. Let's just hope I won't stumble upon some necromancer." With no way to open the small lock, he decided to simply headbutt the entrance, tearing the door off its hinges at the cost of small headache. Plenty of cobwebs confirmed his earlier guess. The staircase leading deeper into the tomb was wide enough for three or four people, but for him it was going to be challenging.

The entrance itself caused the most problems. He put the head inside casually, but his wings simply refused to cooperate. Ted grunted, took a few steps back and rushed onward.

He did it. He obliterated the jamb and gained some new bruises, but he did it. Sadly, that also meant he was going too fast to stop himself and fell down the stairs.

With his vision wavering from way too many hits to the head in the last few hours, he searched the room for any danger. It was your typical long hall with small altars and urns under the walls, very common in tombs of Vvardenfell. There was a door at the other end, most likely leading to the rest of the crypt, but Ted was honestly no longer giving a single fuck - the lack of enemies in the room was good enough for him. He lied at the center of the hall and, due to some new instinct, moved his long tail so that the tip was near his head when he went to sleep. In a few moments he was already in the realm of dreams.

The stubborn slaughterfish was still gnawing at his scales.

While the protagonist of our story was entering the embrace of sleep, another hero was slowly leaving it, unaware of the role she was going to play in the future of this land.

They've taken you from the Imperial City's prison, first by carriage and now by boat. To the east... to Morrowind. Fear not, for I am watchful. You have been chosen.

Many fall, but two remain.

A/N:

Alright, this note is a long one. Let's start with some little curiosities.

As a matter of fact, there is a cave roughly half between Hla Oad and Seyda Neen. It's a bandit hideout called Zainsipilu, we forcefully close their business as a part of building a Hlaalu stronghold. Besides storage area (in which you can find mostly beverages) and bandits' quarters it contains a slave den, but no underground lakes. You can either assume it's the same cave, but with added lake and before bandits moved in or that the place isn't canon at all, though it is close to the one I mentioned. The tomb itself actually is 100% canon, but this Note is already long enough, so I'll talk about it in the next chapter. As for unknown Dunmer bandit? Well, he might appear later and actually get a name, but unless that happens, he is unimportant enough to leave him nameless. He most likely will reappear, if only so Ted can get some sweet revenge once he figures out the controls, noob.

Yep, Ted actually supports the Stormcloaks. Deal with it. Opposing an entire Empire fits him much better than killing rebels in the name of unity. Also, most good fics I found had Dragonborn siding against Ulfric, gotta balance things out... also, I may or may not prefer them myself.

Ah, and the Nerevarine... It's going to be a she, that's for sure. Just think of this awkwardness when a female Nerevarine meets his, her, ugh, their ex, Almalexia - priceless. Besides that, nothing is set in stone - I'm still coming up with the story and I haven't even decided on race, but the idea of Khajit/Argonian Nerevarine is tempting, especially the first one. Since those are two races Dunmer despise the most, it makes a room for a lot of interesting situations. Being saved by the one you hate... Huh.

Have any thoughts you want to share? Some ideas how to improve the fanfic? Any advice? If so, you know where Post Review button is. Until next chapter (which, by the way, will be called "Divine Intervention"). It will be published most likely next weekend - usually I don't have an access to the computer on work days.