Has it been that long since I updated? Oops...sorry for the looooong wait, I ended up splitting up the chapter I originally had because I felt it was too info heavy and some may not be able to follow what in the name of Sithis was going on xD
And before someone says 'I cannot wait till the next chapter', fear not! It's very nearly done so you shouldn't have that long to wait ;D
Anyway, here goes nothing...*Adds chapter*...
"Are you going to be gone long?" Runa asked.
"Can't we come with you?" Lucia added hopefully.
Morgan smiled and crouched down to meet her children at eye level.
"I won't be gone long. And you'll be safe here," Morgan said with a glance at Runa. "Serana and I will be heading into danger, and there's no chance I am risking your lives for me, no matter how brave my little dragons are."
Serana smirked as the children grinned at the nickname for her bond mate. She was still smiling when the girls hugged her tightly, Lucia whispering to 'look after her Mama' with a pout on her face.
"She won't come to any harm," Serana promised. "You have my word."
Lucia nodded before running back to hug Lilith, who was standing at the main door. She smiled at the two of them.
"Jordis and I will be fine," she said simply. "Just take care of yourselves and focus on what you need to do."
Morgan nodded once. If there was one thing she admired most about her mother, it was her ability to ensure that she kept her only daughters mind trained on one important track at a time.
"We will come back."
Brelyna waved at the children, who waved back enthusiastically. Serana chuckled. They had adopted the vampire mage as though they had known her for years. She wished that older mortals had the same common sense. Lilith had read the book the previous night and she agreed with Morgan's comment of the author being a 'parasite on the arse of a mammoth'.
Serana clenched her fists.
They had awoken and she had sensed some magical residue but for some maddening reason, she could not locate the source, nor could she find any evidence of harm on anyone within the house. Making a mental note to investigate in the future, Serana glanced at Odahviing, who was waiting for them.
She noted that he was eager to fight, the way he was moving his tail and the constant flexing of his talons giving clear signals to his thoughts. And she shared the feeling. The war hadn't affected her like it had Morgan, but even she knew that the civil war that had been raging for nearly two years now needed to end.
And my little dragon is certainly ready.
That much was true. Morgan had been outside throughout the entire morning, training with her new blade, her magic and even her unarmed skills. Serana believed that the training dummies needed to be remade with dragonbone after watching Morgan demolish the wooden structures so easily.
Before being turned, she was a formidable warrior. Now, with the power of the blood from my bloodline and the merging of her dragon soul with it has created something even greater. And I never touched on her ability to walk through the Void.
Serana shivered in anticipation. If she found the correct balance of blood intake and the best use of using this rare ability, Morgan could end the battle before it had even started.
But where would the fun be in that?
The Volkihar vampire grinned as her lovers voice echoed in her mind. She wanted Morgan to be happy, but in order to do that, she needed to release all the pent up anger and frustration that had been building within.
Morgan needed to become the Dragon.
Serana wasn't fooled. She knew that the black eyes indicated the Dragon had awoken. Or more specifically, the dragon soul that coexisted with that of Morgan. She also knew that it was a fail safe of sorts. The Dragon appeared when Morgan lost full control and Serana believed that it was only because of her that Morgan never released her wrath within Windhelm that one time.
But now, she needed to become the woman that Skyrim would remember for hundreds of years to come.
Serana smiled as she walked closer to Morgan.
She was almost as eager to get into the fight as much as Morgan. Almost.
"Ready?" Serana asked.
Morgan grinned as she stood up and looked back at her home, her family standing at the doors.
My family.
"Yes. Let's get there before nightfall. If you can manage that of course," she added with a grin to Odahviing, who snorted.
Brelyna waved as she mounted Shadowmere, the massive wolf Scar coming alongside. They would run to the forward positions while Morgan and Serana would fly there. Morgan knew that having a mage with the healing skills that Brelyna possessed would be invaluable. And she knew that she was still mourning over the loss of Onmund.
Morgan closed her eyes.
Poor boy. But she will avenge you my friend. As will I.
Odahviing took flight and Morgan managed to wave to her mother and daughters briefly before the ancient dragon took to the skies in earnest, her home rapidly vanishing into the night. She closed her eyes, comforted by the pair of arms that were wrapped around her waist.
Focus, you cannot return to them if you are dead.
Morgan scowled. She had no intention of dying again. It was time for her to tip the scales for herself for a change.
Rikke walked amongst the troops, pausing every so often to offer advice and stern warnings to a few of the more boisterous soldiers. She didn't want anyone dying because they were too excited to be a part of history. She wanted men and women who were proud to fight for a cause, regardless of their race or ideals.
Unlike Ulfric. What was he thinking, segregating the Argonians and dunmer from the rest. Did he not realise that strife would follow?
But that was in the past, Rikke reminded herself. Ulfric had chosen his path. And sides had been chosen. And Rikke had never been happier to watch the Dragonborn land in the camp astride the massive red dragon, her vampiric eyes easily visible despite the light snow that had begun falling that morning.
The soldiers had roared at her arrival, her name being yelled at the cost of sore throats. Morgan had barely talked to anyone since her arrival however. Rikke understood why. She needed her own time to prepare but after two hours, she was getting impatient as to why the Dragonborn hadn't bothered appearing at the war council.
Which was how Rikke found herself staring at the sight before her. Hundreds of soldiers were standing still while the Dragonborn trained, her blade flashing through ghostly apparitions formed by Morgan's thu'um, her soft voice containing so much malice that Rikke wondered what had brought about such a change.
"She needs the release."
Rikke hadn't even heard Serana approach and it took all her willpower not to shudder at the thought of how easily the vampire had gotten so close.
"What do you mean?"
"She has been angry all her life, unable to fight back until now. Her soul and the dragon soul within her are desperate for release. Desperate for war."
Serana glanced at the burly Nord beside her.
"Tell your soldiers to stay out of her way. I will watch over her."
"What makes you think you can control her?"
Serana smiled.
"It's all about trust. She would never harm me and she feels the same. We are joined through blood and soul. She isn't a monster, Rikke. But to win this battle, she needs to allow herself to fly. Just like the others she shares a bond with."
Rikke looked at where Serana was pointing and she felt the saliva in her mouth dry instantly when she caught sight of a gigantic black dragon and a sickly looking green dragon perched on the mountainside.
With ten more dragons near them.
"They followed us while we were flying here. All of them pledged allegiance to Morgan. They know that she can kill them permanently so they follow out of fear and respect."
Rikke blinked.
"Morgan ensured they will not attack any of your soldiers…nor that of our Forsworn allies on the other side of the mountain."
"So they actually came?" Rikke muttered.
"You sound surprised," Serana commented, smiling as they watched Morgan carve through four apparitions with seconds. "They lost everything thanks to Ulfric and that bitch Elissa. This is their chance to redeem themselves. Oh, and one more thing. Never mention 'Elissa' to her. Ever."
Rikke nodded when she saw just how serious Serana looked. It was then that she realised that Serana was the one that kept Morgan in check. She nodded and glanced at the mountain where the Forsworn were hiding.
"What is the signal?"
Serana grinned.
"Morgan will call them at the same time she calls the dragons."
Rikke nodded once more, just in time to see Morgan decapitate another training figure and stare at her from over a hundred feet away, her menacing orange eyes half hidden by strands of long black hair. She felt a cold chill run up her spine and walked away, feeling those eyes burning into the back of her skull.
Stormcloaks may outnumber our forces two to one but the dragons will even the odds. And then we have a very angry Dragonborn on our side.
Rikke increased her pace. She would ensure that there would be no mistakes in battle as well as fulfilling Serana's warning to stay clear of the Dragonborn. Rikke also knew that Ulfric was Morgan's primary target, and while she wanted Ulfric brought to justice, Rikke knew that pissing Morgan off at the present would be a fatal move.
I am beginning to see why the Dragonborn's of old were feared and respected. Just how powerful does this one compare to the ones of legend?
Rikke scowled.
No time for such thoughts, she told herself. She had a battle to prepare for.
Serana smiled and looped an arm around her love, who leaned slightly into her side.
"Feeling better?"
Morgan simply nodded.
Serana rolled her eyes.
"Stop worrying and just keep your focus."
She pulled her little dragon into her embrace.
"Just let yourself fly."
The small smile on the face of her Dragonborn was all she needed to see that she was ready.
Time to show the world what you can do.
The horns of the advance guard split the sky and the two vampires exchanged a smile.
The battle was about to begin.
Ulfric Stormcloak glanced at the men and women he would be fighting alongside. He gave a very young female soldier a nod when they met eye contact. He understood her fear. He felt his stomach twist at the thought of the battle to come. His forces outnumbered the Empire 'remnants' as he thought of them but he still had that sense that not all was what it seemed.
None of their spies had returned and he was worried. How had they been discovered? What concerned him the most was the thought of the Dragonborn. She was unstable and dangerous and as far as he was concerned, deluded.
She chose her side.
Ulfric adjusted the straps on his armour and rolled his shoulders.
The advance guard was ready. Two hundred loyal Stormcloaks that would take the brunt of the first wave. His group, which consisted of the remainder of his forces, would then charge through the first wave and head towards their camps before they had time to fully assemble.
Of course, that plan could go awry. Which was why he kept a hundred new recruits within the walls of Windhelm, just in case there was a flanking attack. He smiled. He knew Rikke well, as did Galmar of course. She would try anything to win, especially now that her forces were outnumbered.
He gave Galmar a grin as his best friend and second in command walked to his side, his massive steel battle axe held in firm hands.
"Ready, old friend?" Ulfric asked with a dry chuckle.
"Just give the word, and Skyrim can be free at long last," Galmar replied gruffly.
Ulfric smiled a little more. After this battle, peace would follow and Skyrim would be able to face the true threat. The Thalmor were surely watching and would undoubtedly have contingency plans for any outcome. He admired Elisif in some ways. She had finally grown a backbone but she knew nothing of warfare, nor how to cope with political manners of war.
He knew better. He knew more war would be fought, and sooner than what many believed. While none of his spies had been able to infiltrate the remnants camps, some had managed to return from other provinces. And all of them had reported the same dire warning.
The Thalmor are on the move.
They had been amassing armies and choking the supply lines to the provinces that were not under their rule. And while none of his spies had exact numbers, they had all discovered that the Thalmor 'leader' was intending to travel to Skyrim. He didn't have a name but he knew that it was a female altmer who had displayed interest and had spent vast resources into determining the threat of one particular person.
It seems that if Morgan were to emerge victorious, she will have to face a new threat, one that commands armies of thousands.
Skyrim needed a firm leader, one that made the difficult choices for the greater good. He didn't like to segregate any race from another, but Skyrim belonged to the Nords. Only those that contributed to the province should have the privilege to stay within these sacred lands.
And the Dragonborn and the twisted creature that corrupted her do not fit in that category. They are dangerous and need to be destroyed.
A loud blast of the warning horns split the sky, and Ulfric pulled his bear helmet over his head before hefting his axe, breathing out slowly through his nose and closing his eyes for a moment. After a few seconds, he opened them and glanced at as many pairs of eyes as he could manage.
"FOR SKYRIM!" he bellowed, his thu'um spelling into the air.
And a second of silence followed before a feminine voice responded in the snowy sky, a blast of bluish energy tearing into the clouds and forcing them to dissipate, the snow vanishing shortly afterwards.
"FOR FREEDOM! FOR ALL OF US!"
The Battle of Windhelm had begun.
In the mountains to the east, a pair of keen eyes surveyed the battle from a safe distance. He had been there for a week or so, yet he had only slept three hours every night so as to not miss anything vital for Herself. He cast his eyes down at the thought of her name before fixing his attention to the swarm of mortal men and women charging down the mountain opposite him.
His orders had been clear. He was to observe one soul only, to determine the threat this one person could possibly offer. Sulandril had not returned from her post and while the Countess of Bruma had passed any questions their interrogators could devise, Herself had reportedly said during the most recent council address that foul play had played a part in her disappearance.
Sulandril and before that, Elenwen. Skyrim truly is a poisonous land, to lose two high ranking Council members within a few scant years.
"FUS RO DAH!"
He jumped slightly as these strange words drowned out the sounds of metal on metal and the screams of the dying. He scanned the battlefield and raised his eyebrows at the sight of forty or so blue-clad soldiers being scattered into the air, a strange energy blasting the snow and Earth to a depth of two feet.
And then he saw her.
Was that power from her?
He didn't believe the tales that came from this miserable, cold land. The thought that anyone should wield power that none of their mighty wizards could recreate. The notion that a mortal could ascend into god hood was ridiculous, but the stories that had made their way to The Summerset Isles was almost as disturbing.
A mere Breton girl who could kill dragons permanently and from what many peasants believed, was unstoppable on the field of battle.
He snorted.
That was when he heard a female voice echo throughout the valley, the ground shaking beneath his feet. He stared in disbelief as this seemingly frail woman carved through her opponents as though she were a storm shredding a corn field.
A series of deafening roars followed, and he felt the saliva in his mouth dry up as multiple dragons took flight from behind the renegade Empire forces' camp, the air shuddering as they all seemed to yell the same words.
"DOVAHKIIN! THURI!"
He had no idea what the words meant, but the way they all bowed to the black haired woman in unison was all he needed to know.
This woman had control of some of the dragons that plagued the world. While they spread unchecked, even within the Isles, some of them were allied to this mysterious 'Dragonborn'. And then it clicked.
"They shouted her title," he breathed, his blood flow increasing in fear and worry. "They follow her…"
He hastily moved closer to the edge of the cliff and lay down on his stomach, his eyes constantly fixed on a person that was more dangerous than they had believed.
A/N: As I said, the battle chapter is nearly done so please keep the pitchforks away until i spring a cliffhanger on ya... ;D