A simple story of the Last and the First. Except with a bit of a twist.
The Last has had to play hero for far longer than they were comfortable with. They had realized, over the course of their journey, that they were no better than the dragons they killed every week. They craved power like a drug, but they refused to bow to anyone to obtain more. Those who thought they could control them were cut down.
Harkon, Astrid, Delphine, Mercer Frey, the lady Black-briar, and Ulfric Stormcloak.
The Last had not chosen a side in the war. They cut down Ulfric and took his place. They had no sympathy for those who sat on a throne and shouted orders.
Except, there was an issue.
They knew nothing about politics and had blindly stepped up to the plate. Killing Alduin had been far easier. They wanted to storm the Blue Palace and take the throne by force, but their advisor had made a good point. They couldn't take on a whole army by themselves. If they stormed the Blue Palace and tried to kick all the Thalmor from Skyrim, the Aldmeri Dominion was likely to send an army.
The pressure to come up with a strategy was weighing heavily on their mind. They really had bitten off far more than they could chew - and they were learning that leading was not quite what they had thought it would be. They needed to take a step back with room to think, but they were trapped within the stone walls of The Palace of Kings
It was then that they had a way out. Two cultists had walked into The Last's castle and had claimed they were an imposter, and the only true Dragonborn was a faceless man named Miraak.
"You dare claim I am not Dovahkiin!" The Last's Voice shook the foundation of The Palace of Kings. The scent of fear was heavy in the air, and it came from everyone, including the cultists. They didn't show their fear though, they put on a brave face - figuratively speaking seeing as they wore masks - and died valiantly. The Last had to give them credit, they faced their demise head-on.
It was then that The Last found the note on one of the cultists and called for a boat to Solstheim. Men were greedy, so despite the captain's discomfort at going back to the island, he was being given a large sum of money he could not deny, and he did not deny. He hesitantly transported the Last to the island.
The island was ashy, and the citizens were annoying. The first Dunmer to meet The Last was nearly shouted into the water. It was the power of the Thu'um that forced the Dunmer to scurry away. The Last did not discriminate against race, your race did not matter to them. If you listened without question, you lived. That Dunmer had the gall to demand why they were there! If they had met on Skyrim…Well…The punishment would have been unspeakable.
The Last was infuriated by the lack of answers they were given about the man named Miraak. Though, the head council of Raven Rock was useful enough. He pointed the Last to Miraak's Temple.
That is where the Last was currently. Irritation was bubbling up inside of them at the Nord woman that was following them around like a lost puppy dog. The Last had kept their mouth shut until now since the nord was a good distraction for the cultists. Her loudmouth drew them in like a moth to a flame.
In the deepest parts of the temple were horrific Daedric totems that left the Last on edge. The book in the center of a circular room with more Daedric likeness made them immensely uncomfortable. The Nord woman made a comment that the Last silently agreed with. It was the most agreeable statement she had made thus forth. Though, when the woman suggested reading the book - more like demanded, the Last turned to her with a fire in their eye that had finally grown too strong for them to contain.
"If you do not keep your mouth shut, I will burn it shut. I do not have time for your idle chatter, nor do I have the patience to deal with it any longer." The Last hissed a serpentine hiss that shocked the Nord woman.
The Last's eyes had slit like a sabercats, and the room around them shook, dust falling from the ceiling as they spoke. What power did this person hold to cause an underground temple to shudder so? Frea did not wish to find out.
The Nord woman fell silent as the Last opened the book.
They were disoriented when they appeared in the Daedric plane. The lightning that coursed through them forced them to their knees. They looked up into the golden Daedric mask that belonged to the man who assaulted them. They're face twisted with rage as they tried to stand, but they were unable to move much more than an inch. They were truly enraged.
The man monologue for some time — the Last fought against his magic the entire time and finally felt it beginning to weaken — and even called the Last weak . Their helmeted head snapped up, and their eyes narrowed to mere slits. "Weak? You call me weak? I am not the one who fell for a Prince's lies." They hissed venomously.
They had climbed to their feet — which was not as easy as they made it look — and were now looking up at the man on an even playing field. Well, as even as their five-foot one stature could be with someone who was close to seven feet tall. Miraak looked down on the Last with a mixture of awe, rage, and curiosity. No one had talked back to him in a very long time, not to mention the fact that they were capable of shaking off his magic as they did. It was intriguing. Infuriating, but intriguing. They would live another day only so he could accurately gauge their strength.
"Hmm, you intrigue me Dragonborn." He purred in a sadistic tone.
Admittedly, his statement had caught them off guard, which also left the Last curious about the man before them. The Last had a devilish grin spreading across their face. "As do you, Miraak."
Miraak did not know what the smile meant. It sent a shiver down his spine. Fear? Was this fear? He had not felt fear in so long, and this small Dragonborn was capable of making him feel it? He would find out why they brought forth this feeling, and he would bring it to an end.
They pulled out the Black Book — which somehow was in their knapsack — and ran a hand over the cover. "I will await your return to Tamriel. I do not feel inclined to become a Daedric plaything," The Last stated and looked back up to Miraak with a smirk on their face. "It would also be a shame to end what could be a beautiful alliance."
Miraak watched the Last open the book and vanish. A strange amusement had wormed its way into his mind. An alliance? This would be interesting indeed. He needed to get out first, and he had a feeling the Last would not stop him.
The Last nearly spewed fire at the Nord woman when they returned. She had been touching them!
"Do not touch me with your filthy hands." The Last hissed as they ripped their arm from her grasp. The woman snarled back. Apparently, the Last's threat from earlier wasn't taken seriously.
"I am not filthy! What did you see in there? Did you find Miraak? Did you kill him?" The woman shot questions like a master archer and it only irritated the Last further. "No, I did not kill him, and nor do I plan to." The Last grunted as they went to leave.
The woman stepped in their way, fury on her face that was turning her skin red. Did this woman have a death wish?
"What do you mean you did not intend to kill him?! He has imprisoned my people and the rest of those who live on Solstheim! He must be destroy-" The woman was abruptly cut off by an open palm wrapping around her throat. She was shoved back and up against a wall as the Dragonborn snarled in her face.
"Your lack of concern for my well-being is appalling, not to mention your insolence as to who I am," The Last tightened their hand around the Nord's throat and she began to choke. "I am the Last Dragonborn. You will respect me, and Miraak will be left alive. If I killed him in that Daedric plane, I would surely replace him as the Champion. And I don't believe you would like that." The Last had a twisted smile on their face that sent a chill down the woman's spine.
She was slowly reaching for the Stalhrim ax that was strapped to her side when her hand was snatched and held away from her weapon. The Last leaned in close to her ear and hissed lowly into her ear. "Do I make myself clear?"
The whisper was far from the demeanor that she was faced with before. It was colder, calculating and she felt naked despite her armor. The Last was no longer smiling, and the aura of death surrounding them was suffocating. "Yes." The Nord choked out.
The Last dropped their hold and walked away. They did not care for the choking noises that echoed off the walls of the circular cavern they walked through. Her windpipe could be crushed and they would not bat an eye.
But maybe they were too rough on her? No, she got what she deserved for testing their patience. The Last would stay on Solstheim until Miraak arrived. It did not matter how long that took. They would wait.
Frea could hardly catch her breath. Each one felt like sand was sliding down her throat. She knew her throat was starting to swell, but thankfully the swelling would not constrict her airway. That person, the Dragonborn they had called themselves, was far more dangerous than Frea had thought. They had seemed irritable and aloof as they walked together through the Temple. Their threat before they opened the book had startled Frea, but she had thought that they were just frustrated and tired. This…This was worse. The Dragonborn was violent, unpredictable, and was willing to let Miraak walk free!
Frea had to tell her father and the remainder of her people. She did not know what they would do against such a formidable opponent. Yet they had to try.