AN: A slightly smaller chapter but for those who wanted to see a more vindictive Morgan, this may suffice ;D Oh, and there's one final chapter to write, mostly setting up for the next story arc ;)

"It's a good thing I am technically dead because if I were mortal, I wouldn't be able to breathe," Morgan muttered as the young woman behind her tightened the last of the dress straps.

"Ignore her, she's always out of sorts when she wearing anything other than armour," Serana said with an amused chuckle. She was sitting on the reclining sofa, her long red dress draped over her legs and a goblet of wine held in one hand.

"Am not."

Serana chuckled again as she sipped her wine. She didn't bother to reply and was content to sit there and admire the way the black dress clung to her love's curves. She smoothed her own dress down and smiled as the serving girl bowed to the two of them before hurrying out of the room.

"I think you intimidate her," Serana quipped.

"What gave you that idea?" Morgan retorted with fake innocence as she walked over and sat on Serana's lap, the ancient vampire wrapping an arm around her waist.

"Oh nothing. Just her heartbeat sounding like the entire Bards College rehearsing a drum session all at once. Or the sweating. The stammer in her voice…"

Morgan rolled her eyes.

"Not my fault. What did she think was going to happen? I would bite her? Pfft."

Serana laughed as she placed the now empty goblet on the dresser table and smiled.

"Of course not, you are the Heroine of Skyrim. Dragonborn. And various other titles that everyone knows you as."

Morgan sighed as Serana's arms coiled around her, the vampires lips tickling her throat.

"Look on the bright side of things my love," Serana continued. "Alduin is banished, my father and his madness is no more and you finally ended the war that made no sense. For once in your life, you can plan ahead. Travel the world, watch our children grow up…"

Our children.

Morgan smiled as she turned around and planted a kiss on Serana's forehead.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

Morgan smiled.

"Everything."

Serana grinned.

"Even letting you go first when choosing our dresses?"

"Apart from that. Evil woman."

Serana smiled wickedly.

"Come on, time or the coronation. I expect Elisif will want a speech from you."

"Shit."

Serana giggled.

Elisif smiled as she walked through the Blue Palace, her long white and silver dress trailing quietly behind her. She made certain that she nodded to every guard she passed, appreciating the measures that Rikke had taken to ensure her safety. Walking slightly behind her was the quiet vampire advisor, Sybille Stentor.

She had said little since the preparations although she had mentioned that the guards had reported one or two disturbances, all of them involving the result of the civil war.

Elisif fought the urge to sigh and continued to walk, heading to the balcony that would lead outside. She stopped at the double doors and took a moment to compose herself. After several years of having to grieve at the murder of her beloved husband, she finally felt as though everything would work out in the end. She could hear the crowd outside cheering, and she glanced at Sybille, who raised her eyebrow.

"I have never been so scared," Elisif muttered.

"Yet you have faced worse than this. Elenwen comes to mind."

Elisif nodded. She sometimes dreamed about the moment she thrust an elven blade straight through that Thalmor bitch's chest, the look of horror and shock on that usually smug face always made her feel better.

I can do this. The people await.

Elisif strode through the doors, and into a wall of noise as several thousand people started cheering and yelling. She held in her annoyance as some could be heard shouting 'Skyrim for the Nords!' and walked to the balcony edge, looking around at the sea of faces. Then she glanced to her right and felt better when she met the gaze of the Dragonborn and her immortal lover.

She smiled at the two of them before looking back to the crowd, raising her right hand in the air.

And several thousand people went silent within seconds.

Rikke stepped forwards, holding what seemed to be a crown made of dragon fangs. Elisif blinked when she realised it was the Jagged Crown itself, an item long since thought to be a myth, a relic lost to time.

"People of Solitude!" Elisif began, smiling as a roar from the crowd answered her opening words. "For years, fathers, mothers and sons fought against each other. For years, the proud sons and daughters of this land fought for honour, glory and a desire to be free!"

She waited for a moment as the crowd bellowed again, looking at the sheer number of people that were watching her. Yet she felt no fear, as though every single fear she had once possessed had been washed away. Elisif looked over to Morgan once more and seeing her vampire friend smile at her calmly was all she needed to force herself onwards.

"For years, blood was spilled, families torn apart and outsiders turned away for not being a Nord. We were foolish, naïve and were it not for an 'outsider', we would not be here today!"

She paused again as the roars of the crowd echoed all around, the majority screaming the title of the woman who had been placed to fulfil a destiny she had no inkling of being a part of.

"Dragonborn! Dragonborn!"

Elisif smirked as Morgan gave a simple wave, even as Serana placed a comforting hand on Morgan's lower back, out of sight of any onlookers.

"Morgan Aurelius sacrificed so much in defeating the World Eater, Alduin! For two years she travelled this wondrous and dangerous land, helping any who asked for aid and asking for nothing in return!"

Elisif shook her head.

"Yet did that change anything? No. We were too proud to lay down our arms when the dragon menace had been dealt with. We continued to fight each other, weakening our core strength and allowing the Aldmeri Dominion to gain the advantage. It also allowed Ulfric Stormcloak to continue his advance, until only Whiterun and Solitude remained loyal to the Empire that had kept us safe for years."

Boos were mixed in with cheers and Elisif gripped the marble balcony as hard as she dared.

"And what did we do? We dragged the Heroine of Skyrim into this pointless war. And with it, we denied her the courtesy and honour we should have offered her years ago!"

She glanced at Morgan and Serana, who looked shocked at her words.

"Once again, we forced her to fight. But this time, it was not the blood of dragons that she was forced to spill, but our own. But now I have the chance to say what I should have said long ago."

Elisif turned and dropped to one knee, ignoring the gasps around her and the silence of the crowd.

"Morgan Aurelius. I only speak for myself but may I apologise for the treatment that you and your family has endured since you arrived here. From an attempted execution from the Empire that you served faithfully, to the sneers and insults you must have had to cope with since your 'transformation'. I am sorry for everything. Empress."

Morgan blinked once. Then twice. It sank in what Elisif had done. She may have been about to be crowned High Queen of Skyrim, yet in one stroke, she had greeted her as the title that Paarthurnax had mentioned she would be known as to some.

Empress.

From what she knew of the Dragonborn bloodline, all those with the blood of the dov were the rightful rulers of the Empire. Martin Septim had been the last true dragon blood heir, the current emperor a puppet to that of the Thalmor.

And Elisif had greeted her as such.

Morgan felt Serana's hand give her back a soft prod and she walked closer, offering a hand to that of the kneeling Elisif. Elisif took the hand and smiled as Morgan struggled to find the words she wanted to say.

"There is no need to apologise, Your Eminence," Morgan said, the crowd whispering all over. "You are a dear friend and the majority of the fine people of Skyrim has been nothing but polite with me. Not only that, but the war would have dragged me in regardless of what I did with my life."

She smiled, her fangs glinting in the strong sunlight.

"My blade is always yours to command, My Queen."

Morgan dropped to her knee.

As did every single person in Solitude minus the patrolling guards.

Elisif smiled.

Outsmarted again but one day my friend, you will chase that which belongs to you.

"Rise, my friend."

Morgan stood and took the offered crown from Rikke.

"All hail the High Queen of Skyrim!" Morgan announced as she placed the crown on the young woman's brow before stepping back and dropping to one knee once more.

The crowd roared loud enough that only a few could discern the bellowing of three dragons that were circling high in the clouds. Red, green and black swooping through the sky and giving their support to that of their Thuri.

Morgan smiled as the cool breeze blew her hair free of her face, heaving a sigh of relief that had needed to be released for years.

It's done. Alduin, Harkon and Ulfric all taken care of. Just some cleaning up to do in Riften and then my focus is on my family.

She smiled as she stood up, Serana's arms wrapped around her waist as soon as she tried to face her. Brushing away a strand of hair from Serana's face, Morgan smiled.

"No speeches for me," Morgan joked, sticking her tongue out.

Serana giggled.

"There's still time. There is still the reception to get through."

"Spoilsport."

"That's my title."

Morgan grinned as she could hear the crowd yell her name and even Serana's name was being chorused. The two vampires smiled and walked to either side of the newly crowned High Queen, waving to the crowds as a shaft of sunlight broke through the clouds to illuminate the three of them.

Morgan smiled wider. She was finally free.

Riften, three days later…

Maven Black-Briar scowled as she read through the stack of parchments that formed a newly printed newspaper originating from Solitude. Titled 'The Dragons Truth', Maven suppressed a snort as she pondered the idiot who had chosen that title.

Almost as foolish as that little shit on the throne.

Having a naïve little girl on the throne was akin to political and economic suicide in her view. She had already received three letters from the three main provinces that traded with Riften, all of them withdrawing their supply lines until 'the correct chosen ruler was in place'. Maven shook her head, knowing that the Thalmor were already cracking down on the trade for Skyrim.

Turning the page, she snarled as she noticed the drawings of the Dragonborn standing beside the Queen. After three seconds, she threw the paper into the burning fireplace and standing up, caressing the hilt of her dagger.

This is not over.

Maven smiled as she briefly recalled that while the war was over, there were reports of disgruntled citizens who refused to follow the new Queens rule. In fact, there had been reports of attacks and ambushes from these 'True Sons of Skyrim', and the frequency had increased every day since the coronation.

Then she frowned. Maul should have been here by now.

She had given him specific instructions to visit the Thieves Guild to inquire why she hadn't received any of her due takings for two days straight, and why none had stolen the ancient set of necklaces that Elisif had given the the still bedridden Laila Law-Giver. The necklaces were said to be over a thousand years old, and if the gossip was true, they had been acquired by the Dragonborn years ago during her ending battles before defeating Alduin.

Speaking of which…

Sibbi should have been here too. And her useless son Hemming of course. The two of them had been forced to work together with each other after they had been competing with newly created businesses of their own. While she was pleased that Hemming had finally taken an interest in the family business, he was too weak. And Sibbi had only been free of jail for six months.

Yet in that time, he had forged three new ventures and had amassed a small army of three hundred mercenaries. His reasoning had been simple. The army had one goal, and that was to remove the Dragonborn from Skyrim in the bloodiest way possible.

Yet he was late, which was unlike him.

Maven pulled out the dagger and scowled.

It was very late, the darkness outside hiding even the ten or so guards that patrolled the streets of Riften. Glancing at the window once more, she pulled the two heavy wooden shutters across the windowsill and locked it, pushing the key into her dress pocket before moving to the door.

Pulling it open, she encountered a nightmare.

Hemming Black-Briar was pinned against the wall, small steel daggers pinning his arms and legs to the wall, his throat ripped open enough that she could see the vertebrae and the steady pulse of blood pouring from severed arteries. She walked past her dead son without a second glance.

Grieving was for the weak.

Walking through the house, guards were torn apart, limbs ripped from bodies, bloody tears in torsos, the walls and the floors drenched in blood. Ignoring the tang of iron, she continued to walk through the quiet house.

I heard nothing. What sorcery is this?!

She found Sibbi at the front door. Half of him at the most. His legs were gone, his hands pinned to the floor by yet more small daggers. But his face was a bloody mess, cheekbones shattered, the forehead crumpled and splintered.

Maven closed her eyes for a moment before opening them quickly when she heard the shuffling noise coming from the dining hall. Jogging to the closed doors, she pressed her ear to the cold wood.

And shrieked as a bloody hand burst through the door, grabbing her by the throat and tossing her into the dining room, her dagger flying from her hand and skidding to the end of the table…where a gloved hand stopped its momentum. Maven gasped as she struggled to free herself before realising who was holding her.

Mauls eyes were glowing a sickly blue, the veins in his face purple and his tongue flapping uselessly over his lips. She looked down to see his intestines were piling up on the floor, a river of blood pouring from countless gashes on his body.

"Good of you to join us," the cloaked figure purred, clenching her hand, red waves of magic flowing through her fingertips.

The clearly undead Maul threw Maven into a chair before collapsing into a pile of ash. Maven quickly made to flee yet was pinned in place as the figure used another spell to hold her in place, her mouth slamming shut by an unseen force.

She snarled.

There was another pulse of magic and she found she could move her tongue again.

"Do you have any idea who I am?! I will tear you apart and…"

"I am the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood. And you…you have no power here," was the smooth reply.

Mavens eyes widened.

"What is the meaning of this? I have utilised the Brotherhood…"

"For your own ends," the figure interrupted. "For years you took advantage of the organisation for your own ends. And the Dread Father is not happy."

"Who are you? Answer me, slut!" Maven screamed.

There was a soft chuckle.

"Gladly, you stuck up old bitch."

Maven stared as the mask was removed, the hood pulled down. And the blazing orange irises of a familiar face staring back at her, her face twisted in fury.

"Surprised? Hello Maven, I thought I should drop in and have a private chat," Morgan said with a sneer, putting her feet on the table and smirking. "Comfy?"

"It's…it's not possible. You cannot be the Listener?! It's.."

"I see your small mind cannot cope with the truth," Morgan grinned. "I am in charge and we will never answer to you again. Well, not that you will ever get the chance of course."

"My people will find you. And your beloved children!"

Morgan chuckled darkly as wisps of black magic swirled in her hands.

"Your little army burned last night, no survivors. The Thieves Guild operating under new management. I believe you met Karliah? Your family minus Ingun are splattered on the walls, no evidence of my involvement. Perhaps now your family name will mean something rather than being in the pocket of the Thalmor."

Morgan narrowed her eyes.

"And I know all about Marcus, and how you ensured he ensnared me. But he's dead and so is Ulfric. Sulandril too. You are the last piece of a puzzle, Maven."

There was a pause as Morgan's eyes changed to black, her hands pulsing with dark magic.

"Embrace the Void."

Maven barely managed to scream as her body was pulled apart, limbs ripped off and her skin flayed from her body. She had one brief second to see a darkness surrounding Morgan, her eyes as dark as midnight, her lips set in an ecstatic grin.

Then nothing.

Morgan smiled as she allowed the magic to fade.

Not looking at the limbless bloody skeleton that sat at the table, she shifted into the Void feeling much better. She was pleased that the house had been cast under the strongest Silence spell that Brelyna could muster, a spell that had been set a day before. None would know she had been there, having walked into Riften under cover of the Void.

She was thirsty now, and she knew a bandit camp was nearby.

A snack is in order. Then back to the Sanctuary for the Night Mothers announcement and then back home with my family.

Morgan grinned as she moved through the Void, feeling the Dread Fathers approval at her offerings. While Maven nor her family were eligible to have their souls cast into the Void, the Night Mother had mentioned that she had made a deal with a Prince, one that would ensure their eternal torture would be enough for their transgressions.

The Daedric Prince of Destruction would happily take their souls after all.