The Price of Vengeance- A Skyrim Fanfiction

Epilogue

Four years later...

Four years had passed since the Skyrim's Civil War had ended. In the time following, a series of coordinated assaults had taken place, led by the now almost legendary trio- The High King of Skyrim, Ulfric Stormcloak; The Imperial Ambassador to Skyrim, General Rikke, and the Imperator of The Dragonborn Battalion, Ven Dragonborn.  

The wind sighed through the streets of Windhelm and the sun was for once, not hiding behind the clouds. The softly falling snow glittered in the sunlight, and everything was peaceful.

I still couldn't believe that Skyrim was free. Ulfric, Rikke, and I had managed to completely eradicate the presence of the Thalmor from the country, and once more, the Nords were allowed to venerate Talos. The Aldmeri Dominion had been, in an overwhelmingly understatement, stark raving mad. 

About two years after the end of the Civil War, they had sent an armada of ships to seize control again. Unfortunately for them, they came at us through the Sea of Ghosts. The notorious sea consumed half of their fleet even before they came close to Winterhold, and the few remaining ones were sitting ducks for the mages at Winterhold College. As Arch-Mage, I'd had great fun sending Lightning spells into the water and electrifying the Thalmor soldiers to a crisp. Good times, I fondly reminisced.

 After our decisive victory, the Empire accepted the status quo and told the Aldmeri that Skyrim had seceded from the Empire, and that the White Gold Concordat therefore no longer applied. But before the Aldmeri got any clever ideas about trying to attack Cyrodiil again, High King Ulfric Stormcloak announced that any attack on Cyrodiil would amount to an attack on Skyrim herself, thanks to a new treaty Ambassador Rikke had brokered between the nations. 

The Aldmeri fumed, but they couldn't really do anything.  But all of us were tense, waiting for the inevitable attack from them.

"Ven! Did you see my sword? I can't find it!" The grumbling tones of my husband made me smile. Ralof and I had gotten married after the Battle of the Ghost Sea, as the people had taken to calling it. It was a simple ceremony, attended by only a select few- Lydia, Eorland, Ralof's sister's family, Ulfric, and Rikke. After that, we'd moved to Whiterun, though I had houses in Windhelm and Solitude as well, where we stayed if there was a need for our presence. We were in Windhelm now because Ulfric had sent a missive to Whiterun, asking for a meeting.

"It's in the chest in the bedroom. You shouldn't leave it lying around like a toy, Ralof," I chided. He shook his head at me, and wagging a finger at me that promised a reckoning later for my tone. Bring it on, mister. We regularly sparred together to keep ourselves battle ready, and the bouts were often the highlight of my day. I felt an arm wrap around my waist and leaned back into Ralof, savoring his warmth. "Pity we have to go now," I murmured. He sighed and went to fetch his blade, even as I buckled on Stormfall and Tempest's scabbards.

After he'd retrieved it, we left for the Palace of the Kings. Ulfric was eating dinner when we entered, and with a gesture, bade us to sit beside him. I was also pleasantly surprised to see Rikke at the table as well. She'd been on a trip to High Rock, negotiating mutual defence pacts in advance before the Thalmor attacked. 

"Rikke. How were the Bretons?" Her face was grim. "The Bretons were the same as ever, aloof and non-committal. But they'll listen to Cyrodiil. And Titus Mede II can't afford to lose our troops. But I have more pressing matters. There have been certain  movements in the Aldmeri Army that give me cause to believe that they are massing for an assault. The exact location of invasion, I do not know, but I suspect it to be either Morrowind, or Hammerfell."

Ralof's brow furrowed. "But why now? I mean, they just got ripped to shreds two years ago. There's no way they've gotten their navy back to it's old strength." I realized the connection.

"And that's exactly why they're planning an attack now. They know that a combined invasion by the Empire and us would be devastating. So they're pre-empting us. Their ground troops are still as powerful as ever. If they catch us off guard, they'd have the advantage."

Ralof thumped his fist on the table. "So let's invade then. Catch them  off guard, and wipe the bastards out once and for all." Surprisingly, no one seemed to object. I agreed with him, but an invasion now? After we finally had peace?

Ulfric nodded at us. "And that's why we've called you two. I've sent diplomats to Hammerfell and Morrowind. If they agree, and I believe there's a good chance they will, I want a full plan with regards to how we'd proceed. I want the Thalmor's presence thrown into Oblivion. I won't stand for another hegemony headed by the damn bastards. This is our chance Ven. We ought to finish this once and for all."

Rikke watched Ulfric's impassioned argument. She spoke. "I do believe that Cyrodiil would be willing to hunt them down with us. As would Hammerfell and High Rock. And for the first time in a while, their naval defences are down. We have a fighting chance."

I felt a great weight pressing down on me. It was my final call, as Imperator. But would I shatter the fragile peace we had in hopes for a permanent one and more conflict? "I need to think this over. I'll let you know by tomorrow."

That night, I couldn't sleep. The repercussions of both action and inaction kept echoing in my head, and I tossed and turned in bed, unable to decide. I shook Ralof awake. "What should we do?", I asked him. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and stared frankly at me. "You know what I'd say Ven. Get the bastards once and for all." 

I knew that was what he was going to say, but I had still needed to check. I quietly asked him, "So you don't mind losing all this peace? Do you think it's worth it?" Ralof grasped my hand. "Everything has it's price. We could live like this for a few more years, always wondering when the ax would fall. Or we could take a risk, and end the danger. I for one, don't fancy waiting for them to arrive. We're hunters Ven, not prey."

I let him go back to sleep, and after another hour or so, fell into an uneasy sleep.

I heard a scream from behind me and I turned, only to see a woman stabbed for kneeling before a Shrine of Talos. I saw the atrocities that had been committed by the Thalmor before, and the ones that would follow if they succeeded in capturing Skyrim. And I knew that Ralof was right. I could no longer blind myself to the danger. I'd have to see this through to the end.

The morning dawned, bright and clear. Another sunny day. Ralof didn't ask me what I'd decided. He simply kissed my cheek. "You know I'll love you no matter what you decide, right?"

Unable to speak, I nodded, and buried my face in his chest, breathing him in. I knew no matter what I chose, I could end up losing him.

We wordlessly went to see Ulfric Stormcloak and Rikke, who were waiting for us in the palace hall. They seemed to be waiting for me to speak. So I did.

"We will bring the fight to the Thalmor. And we will crush them. They will never hold authority over anyone again. The Second Great War is upon us. And we'll win, or die trying."

I unsheathed my sword and raised it in the air. 

"Victory or Sovngarde!"

End of book one.