AN: So this is it. The final chapter of Bond of Blood. I was not far off the sixty chapter mark but I did cut out some planned content after alot of thought...mainly because I can put them within the third 'book' muhahahaha!

Ahem, anyway...

A BIG thank you to every person who has read any of the story, and especially those who have somehow managed to stay interested throughout the nearly three years of time I have spent writing...damn, the next story won't take that long hopefully :)

A huge personal thanks to Redchillismoke for the ideas and brainstorming sessions we have gone through, you're awesome! :D

So, here we go, hope you enjoy the chapter. Feel free to review and leave a message for questions etc, and again, THANK YOU! :D

Morgan chuckled as she watched her adopted children run around the house, Runa with a small wooden sword, Lucia with what seemed to be a crude bow created from string and a bent branch. She laughed harder as Scar joined in, chasing both children and barking when she came close to them.

"I see Scar is training them to run," Lilith Aurelius remarked with a smile as she sat down beside her daughter.

"Could be worse, it could be Odahviing," Morgan replied with a grin as the massive red dragon swooped over the house low enough to make the ground tremble.

"I have never seen a dragon so nervous," Lilith laughed.

Morgan giggled. When she and Serana had returned from Solitude and her destruction of the Black-Briar family, Odahviing had been assaulted by a barrage of questions from her daughters, the ancient being visibly shaken by their thirst for knowledge.

Not like I can judge, with what I have learned over the years.

Morgan smiled as she felt her mothers hand slip onto hers and turned to face her mother.

"What's troubling you?"

Morgan grimaced. Her mother had an uncanny ability to know how she was feeling.

"I just cannot shake this feeling I have," Morgan replied softly. "I keep having the same sensation that this peace won't last."

"With the Thalmor still around, I dare say you're correct. Or are you referring to these attacks within the cities?"

"A little of both," Morgan admitted with a heavy sigh.

The attacks had spread all across Skyrim since the crowning of the new High Queen, and a group naming themselves as 'The Sons of Skyrim' were taking credit. Even worse, they seemed to have an extensive network of agents, and none of the city authorities had managed to find out where the organisation was operating from or where their hideout was located.

Jarl Balgruuf of Whiterun had declared any of these dissidents to leave the city as any attacks wood be dealt with severely. A day afterwards, his brother had been attacked as he left Dragonsreach, the guards nowhere to be found. And while Hrongar had survived, the stab wound in his lower spine had left him unable to walk.

Morgan was certain that these people would target her and luckily, she had the ideal deterrent in having a dragon as an ally. Odahviing had mentioned any attack on her or her family would result in a fiery death. She also had Jordis watching carefully and with Scar around, it would take a very brave soul to attack her directly.

She hoped.

Serana had been furious at the thought of anyone attacking her newly adopted daughters, and had placed a dozen blood seals around the house to a range of two hundred yards. Any being who walked on one would be detected by Serana, who had a blood ability that Morgan could barely understand.

Serana was currently in the new basement, an addition that Lilith had suggested they use for their own purposes. Morgan had left her alone, knowing that she would work better without being disturbed.

Aside from the attacks, Skyrim was slowly recovering, even a mere week after the coronation. Posters had been placed all over, asking for volunteers for Skyrims armed forces. And many of Skyrims younger generation were enlisting, some for personal glory, others were joining for wages to keep families fed.

While others joined for the reason that Elisif had asked for soldiers.

Morgan had no illusions about the near future. The Thalmor had the prime opportunity to attack Skyrim while it was weak. Falkreath had been abandoned by all but a few villagers after Siddgiers death, the rest had vanished, presumably joining the Sons of Skyrim. Bandits had moved in, and the last reports had placed their numbers as high as one hundred.

Whiterun had bolstered the walls with fortifications as a result, and regular patrols to Riverwood was commonplace. Morgan had had requests from many asking for dragons assistance and Morgan's response had been simple and blunt.

"The dragons won't fight because I force them to. If I used force, I would be no better than Alduin. Wait and see what they do. If they attack, I will raze Falkreath off the map."

She sighed again.

Already, her name was being spat on. Indeed, the last courier to visit her home with letters from Lydia and a few others from Whiterun had had the nerve to spit on the ground at her feet and curse her name. And while she had wanted to tear the little shit apart, the words that Serana had uttered to her months ago came into her mind.

"Mortals are fickle, my love. Ten years, your deeds will be questioned. Fifty years, your name will be cursed. All that matters is the present."

Morgan nodded at those words. All the years spent travelling the land had been for nothing in the end. She gritted her fangs together.

Fuck it, Skyrim will have to look after itself now. All that matters is my family and my friends.

"Come on. We have guests coming," Lilith said after a few moments of silence, a smile on her face.

Morgan sighed again.

"Wonderful. Can I not sleep this one out?"

Lilith laughed as she dragged her daughter to her feet and the two of them walked into the house, the children and the ice wolf close behind them. So no one noticed the single figure leaning against a tree, the long black cloak that had hidden the figure from view shimmering with ancient enchantments...

Serana frowned as she observed the scene before her. Nearly forty mortals were in attendance at their home, and while she recognised a few of them, there were many that she didn't recognise. And as she watched, she noted that Morgan had noticed that something was amiss.

Elisif was present, as was Bryling. But none of her attendees were people she knew of yet how could they refuse a small gathering at the request of the High Queen? Morgan was walking around the group of people, her hand constantly hovering over the hilt of her blade. Serana hadn't had any alerts from her blood seal spells yet she knew that danger was present, she just couldn't see it.

And then everything happened at once.

Ten of the Queens guard suddenly drew their weapons and charged. At Morgan.

By the time Serana had managed to fight her way past three skilled blades men, Morgan had torn her attackers apart, her black dress ripped and covered in blood. She nodded to her love as she felt the anger pulse through their blood bond. Elisif was holding Lucia and Runa close as Bryling fought off two more attackers.

Morgan sprinted over as fast as she could, tackling one to the ground and pinning him down, her hands closed on his throat.

"Who sent you?"

"Heh. Not the first time I had a whore on top of me," the man wheezed as his face turned blue.

"Fine. I will find out the easy way. Children, look away."

Despite Elisifs attempts, both children silently watched as their mother sunk her fangs into the writhing man beneath her. And as Serana and Lilith met eye contact with the children, the girls shrugged.

"They tried to hurt us. Momma protects us," Lucia said simply.

"He deserves it,"Runa snarled as she hugged the younger Lucia.

Serana nodded as Morgan finished draining the man before standing up, blood all over her chest and mouth.

"I found out who sent them and where they came from."

Morgan walked over and muttered a thank you to Elisif as she scooped her children into her embrace.

"Sorry you had to see that," she whispered.

"You saved us Momma," Lucia replied calmly, a small iron dagger clutched in her hand, blood dripping from the tip.

Morgan blinked at that and gently removed the weapon from the small fingers before running her clean hand through the hair of the children.

"You did well. Go inside and clean yourselves up. Bryling, ensure Elisif is safe. Jordis, take care of the children with Mother. My love? Time to hunt."

Serana shuddered with how cold Morgan had sounded but she understood her anger. This was a personal attack and their children. She felt an emotion she hadn't felt in thousands of years.

Rage.

Holding her dragonbone dagger and nodding to her love, Serana didn't need to remind Morgan about the chances of peace in her life at present. Most mortals were foolish creatures at the best of times, and for someone to attack her home directly was the dumbest idea she had ever heard of.

You don't prod a dragon and expect it to end well.

Serana followed Morgan inside as the remainder of the people either went inside or left the premises as fast as they could, her mind racing. Who had ordered this attack and why target Morgan with only a few soldiers when she had cut down a quarter of the Stormcloaks on her own?

Something felt wrong and she was curious to see what Morgan had discovered.

Four days later, Solitude…

The man stared out at the darkness that was the bay of Solitude, his hands behind his back in a relaxed pose. His ship was protected by sixty sailors, forty of them in full plate armour, the rest in leather garb. Yet despite his confident stance, there was a niggling sensation in his mind that danger was near.

Yet danger was something he was accustomed to.

Being the Emperor should have that mentioned in the job description.

Emperor Titus Mede II clenched his hands together and took a deep breath.

He hadn't told any of the Jarls about his 'visit'. Indeed, the only people who knew of his arrival to Skyrim was a few fishermen that his vessel, The Katariah, had rammed as the ship had passed through the fog. The fishermen had been rescued and then quickly slain, the bodies thrown into the water where the slaughterfish would dispose of the evidence.

His mission had been requested by the Aldmeri Dominion and while he detested the elves, it was not as if he had any choice. After all, he knew that the only reason why Ulfric Stormcloak had escaped their clutches was because they allowed him to leave. His rebellion was planned even before he had gathered enough supporters to threaten the weak Empire presence within Skyrim.

The war had resulted in Skyrim being easy pickings for the elves, with no ruler to rally their forces. That is, until this mysterious 'Dragonborn' had appeared.

Anytime a report had reached him about this woman, it had sent the elves into disarray. The Embassy being robbed and destroyed was the first of many actions against the Dominion. Elenwen had been killed by a girl of a Jarl and then the ruler of the Dominions own daughter, Sulandril, had been murdered during a visit to Riften, the Dragonborn being present in all of these events.

The investigation hadn't taken long and they soon had a name to direct their efforts against. The trouble was that Morgan Aurelius had no other relatives so blackmail was not an option. Yet when it was discovered that she had adopted two daughters, as well as being a disgusting vampire, it wasn't difficult in finding people to act in the elves stead.

The Sons of Skyrim was a mixture of misinformed locals and mercenaries who had been gathered at the Dominions hands. While it was a short term mission, the results had been excellent for the elves as Skyrim was as fractured as ever, the Queen unable to regain control of her new subjects.

And while he hated the elves, he hated vampires even more.

The order to send a few expendable men to attack the Dragonborn has been his order, as well as acting as a message. If the Empire were to ever regain any sort of control and to even attempt resisting the Dominions wishes, the unpredictables had to be removed, while those such as this infernal vampire had to be reminded as to who the true leaders were.

Not mentioning the fact that she is next in line to the throne when I die.

He had no children and no heirs, but the thought of a vampire at the seat of the Empire was too much, so for once, this idea of baiting the Dragonborn into a position of submission was one that he followed gladly.

But the recent missive that his agents had sent was disconcerting. All three of the places where the Sons had been operating from had been ransacked with only two survivors. Both had expired but one word had been uttered by both before they had died of their wounds.

Dragonborn.

Was she stupid enough to try an attack him here? None knew of his presence and while the ship was easily visible, the name had been covered by a false panel, the name Silver Wind imprinted on the wood. She had dragons at her command, and while thousands had been reported all over the continent, none were heading to Skyrim which meant she did not have sway over them all.

The captain was late for the nightly report and he chuckled quietly. The Dragonborn wouldn't be coming for him. There had been scattered reports of figures in red and black all over Skyrim and one of his expert advisors had mentioned that the Dark Brotherhood had worn such attire over the years.

Cooks being killed by unseen people, murders at weddings and one mention of a figure in red and black cutting down a guard in Windhelm simply because the man had been dismissive of an Argonian dock worker. The frequency had been increasing over the last six months and then the mention of Maven Black-Briar had reached his ears. Maven had been a ruthless businesswoman yet she knew that economics was easier to fight the Thalmor than open conflict.

Her body had been found with no skin or flesh, her corpse only recognisable by the necklace she wore. Two of her sons had been killed as well, leaving her only daughter the living member of the family business. While some were suspicious, no evidence had been found of foul play yet he knew that the Brotherhood had been involved. The brutality had been a message for the Thalmor and he realised that the elves may decide to invade Skyrim within the year.

He shrugged. Skyrim was a hole and full of dumb Nords, whorish barkeeps and moronic Jarls with a ridiculous sense of honour.

The door opened behind him and he smiled.

"About time you got here. Your report, Captain?"

"Death, blood and a message," a smooth feminine voice replied.

He turned around slowly and frowned as a very dead Captain Galish was released by an arm wrapped around his neck, a hideous hole in his forehead. He stared as the woman stepped over the body, a wicked dagger held in her hand. A second woman entered the room, a dagger made of what seemed to be dragonbone held in each hand, blood dripping off her fingers.

And her mouth.

"What brings an assassin and a filthy vampire to my feet? You dare assault my ship, my crew? Show your face if you dare!" He spat.

The vampire chuckled darkly.

"Of all the stupid things you could have done, insulting me is one of the top three."

He blinked and the assassin was in front of him, her hand grasping him by the neck and throwing him onto the table. He managed to grunt as she mounted him, her dagger held to his throat.

"It isn't the first time my organisation has murdered an Emperor although you barely count as one, cowardly streak of mammoth piss," she whispered harshly.

"Show your face if you are as brave as you think you are… you are clearly deluded if you think you will get away with this."

The assassin removed her hood and he shuddered as he stared into two blazing orange irises.

"I used to believe in you. We all prayed you would save us from the Thalmor in Bruma. I prayed you would send troops to Skyrim to end the war. Yet you allowed them to kill children in their 'training'. You let them run wild as they try and remove Talos from his place as Divine. Then you create a new faction after the war with these 'Sons'."

He chuckled.

"I don't know how you found out Dragonborn, but it matters little. Skyrim is lost yet the Empire will live on."

"The Empire is dead already thanks to you. But it matters little," Morgan mocked. "You attacked my family you old shit. You put my children into harms way. Make no mistake, your elven masters have pissed me off even more than ever and they will fall on their knees as their lands burn in dragon fire. They will tremble as they try to sleep, not knowing that we will be there, watching and waiting."

Morgan leaned down, pleased as his heartbeat started to enter an irregular rhythm as his fear overcame the limits that his body could tolerate.

"And you? You will watch as I show you what a true dragon blood heir acts when a bunch of racist elves try and remove the option of freedom from the people."

The Emperor laughed.

"You really are…."

His words went unfinished as the Blade of Woe slashed his throat open, his eyes wide in terror as the assassin stayed on top of him, her eyes filled with malice and anger. There was a flash of movement on his right and he stared as a ghostly figure appeared out of nowhere, his hands clapping together.

"Very impressive, Listener."

Titus Mede II managed to move his head back in time to see the dagger plunging downwards towards his right eye socket…

Morgan removed the dagger with a quick motion and spat on the spasming corpse of the Emperor of Cyrodiil before jumping off and turning to face Lucien.

"To the Sanctuary, Speaker?"

Lucien LaChance smiled and nodded. While he wasn't sure what the Night Mother had planned, he had the impression that it would change the Brotherhood forever.

Dawnstar…

Morgan blinked as the woman emerged from the darkness, her long cloak hiding her figure. But her red eyes were visible, as were the fangs in her mouth. She glanced to Astrid, who was white faced.

"She entered the Black Door without force. She knew the passcode."

"Who are you?" Morgan asked.

The woman removed her hood and smiled at Serana, who gasped.

"Lucinda?"

Morgan blinked.

"Pleasure to meet a relative and fellow Sister," Lucinda Aurelius said calmly, smiling wider. "Lovely place you have here. The Unholy Matron told me the pass and asked me to say 'darkness rises while silence dies'"

Morgan glanced as Cicero started choking and while Brelyna helped him recover, Morgan held her hand out.

"Welcome. And for the record, this is fucking strange to all of us."

Lucinda laughed.

"For me also, I assure you. I believe she wishes to speak to the two of us. Then we can talk."

Morgan nodded.

"This should be interesting."

"Rise, Listeners."

Morgan rose to her feet, feeling a sense of calmness roll over her. Lucinda did the same as she tilted her head respectfully to the Night Mother, who beamed at the two of them.

"One bloodline, past and present meets at last. And the two of you are just the beginning. But time is short and enemies are closing in."

"What is your command, My Lady?" Both women chorused, smirking at each other with a sense of familiarity.

"In two months, Lucinda. You are to travel to Deepscorn Hollow. I trust you recall where it is? You are to set up a new Sanctuary there. With Luciens assistance of course. Morgan. You are to remain here in Skyrim and continue to thwart the elves as is your destiny. But fear not, as you will have additional help."

Morgan smiled as the figures of Arnbjorn, Veezara and Festus appeared beside the Night Mother.

"With the two of you, the Brotherhood will get stronger. And with it, our name shall be recognised once more. With more than one Listener, my words and those of my beloved will be heard in more places. It is not the first time there has been multiple Listeners after all. Now go my dears, you have some free time until then."

Morgan smiled as she relayed the news, Lucien and Lucinda standing to one side, their hands clasped together. The reunion of the deceased Falkreath members had been welcomed, and as she continued to speak, she took a moment to savour the moment.

She was Listener. Dragonborn. And a mother.

But most importantly, I have family. By blood and by profession.

Smiling as Festus and Gabriella bantered while Cicero continued to provoke the spectral Arnbjorn with werewolf related sexual humour, Morgan smiled wider as Serana's arm coiled around her waist. Leaning into the taller woman, Morgan held her hand up for silence.

"We have two months to sort out who shall be accompanying Lucinda and Lucien back to Cyrodiil. Until then, we are to train the new members, take contracts and maybe have a tavern brawl…"

A roar of laughter met her words and Morgan held Serana a little tighter.

"We have a lot of work to do, fun to be had and bastards throats to be cut open. Long live the Brotherhood!"

"Long live the Brotherhood!"

Morgan spun around as Serana kissed her in full view of everyone. She smiled as rude suggestions were yelled and laughter ensued as Babette threw a pie filled with spider eggs straight into Festus, sparking an all out food fight. Even as she was pelted with food, Morgan giggled as Serana kissed her again.

Finally, the threats are gone.

She had no idea how wrong she was.

Elissa liked her new home. The mysterious Seekers left her alone and she had an unlimited amount of blood thanks to her new master.

The journey had almost killed her yet the compulsion to travel to Solstheim had not been misplaced. She had easily evaded the clueless locals and the ash creatures were easy to avoid if one stayed alert.

Her rage at the Volkihar whore had reached a new level and that anger had spilled over when she thought about the Breton bitch she was riding. But her new master had directed her focus. The bitches would pay for what they had done.

"How does your studies fare?"

That powerful voice always made her stomach tingle. She owed him for his offer of a sanctuary and an opportunity to learn new magic and weapon skills lost to time. She rose from her seat and smoothed her long red dress down, bowing at the figure at the door. As usual, the mask covered his face but she could smell his scent and she quivered at the touch of his fingers on her cheek.

"My Lord."

Elissa formed a ball of magic in her hand, a paralysis spell beyond anything of the current age.

The masked figure smiled behind his mask as he pulled the vampire into his arms. Her mind was weak yet her desire and anger was strong. And easily manipulated. Even as he escorted her to her bed and gently pushing her onto her back before lifting her dress, he chuckled in his mind.

He hoped this 'Last Dragonborn' proved to be a challenge.

Leaning down to lie on top of the disgraced vampire, Miraak laughed as he entered her, smooth legs wrapping around his waist hard enough to bend his lowest ribs.

Soon, he would return.

And he would show the entirety of Tamriel what a true Dragonborn could do.