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Skyrim: Plaything	By : GE_The_Beast Category: +A through F > Elder Scrolls - Skyrim Views: 21445 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This story is made for fun, profit and entertainment. In no way do I own anything discussed. I do not own Skyrim or The Elder Scrolls fandom in any way, nor do I intend any profit from this story.

Chapter List
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When Tullius got back to Elayne, it was with a subtle message. They were told to be in Castle Dour on the day of North Wind’s Prayer. The fifteenth day of Evening Star was a very sacred day for the aedric worshippers. Elayne wasn’t too excited about it. It wasn’t a holiday she had been very excited about in the past. But while the city was in celebration and having holiday blessings. On this day, the temple of the divines here in Solitude gave temple blessings and spellwork for half the normal costs. Hundreds of people would be moving around the castle, and they could hopefully slip in without too much notice.
Elayne didn’t care. The only curse or disease she had at this point was the one that made her strip naked when she fell asleep. Because of it she was beyond paranoid about having a room at an inn when traveling. She didn’t want to be known for that! But the soldiers on both sides of the war had seen it when she traveled from Windhelm to Solitude, so that was humiliating.
“A daedric circlet stuck on my head. Do you think they’ll think it’s suspicious?” Eola asked, poking her very stuck headband.
“No more than your collar.” Both of them wore slave collars now. Eola’s was the far more tough and compact Ebonite. Elayne had a tall steel collar, the same type she had seen Karliah wearing. It had no lock, and no seeming way to remove it. More importantly, it did not like to be hidden. It would shock her mercilessly if it were covered up. It did not like to be covered at all. Scarf? Shock. Her elven armor? Shockingly painful. She had almost passed out from that mistake alone. It had been a night for multiple sweet rolls as she had folded that armor into her bag. “Have you noticed that people are treating us differently?”
“Yes.” Eola said softly. “They won’t buy any goods we offer. We can spend our gold, but they won’t trade with us.”
“I haven’t been to the markets at all.” She felt ashamed. She had spent three days in the inn with this collar on. Just trying to write down her thoughts and prepare for what she was going to say to the Emperor. They had eaten, and lived but most of her gold was back in Whiterun. There was not much to be had left for staying longer than the fifteenth of Evening Star. Not to mention it had been snow storming for days. Her short skirts would be unpleasant in that. “I’ve just been preparing.”
“Well, you’ve got a visitor.” Eola said. “If you’re up to receiving them.”
Behind Eola, the door slid open and a figure slipped inside their room. Elayne quickly looked over herself, the dress she was wearing thick enough to hide her soul gems and body. Some that she owned were not so kind. Once certain that she wouldn’t be flashing anyone, she looked up at the figure. They drew their hood back, revealing the face of a Dunmer. Thankfully, it was someone she knew. “Gabriella!”
“At least someone is glad to see me.” She looked terrible. She looked as though she had not slept or rested enough in the last week since they had seen one another. “You’re not too hard to find these days.”
“Well, I don’t know of anyone else with blue hair.” Elayne joked. “Or a dragon priest mask.”
“Towns talk about you, and I am surprised that you have such a good reputation. Considering our past.” Gabriella wasn’t going to talk openly about the Dark Brotherhood or its business with Eola here. That much was clear. “It was easy to track you down. Though the collar is new!”
Elayne gave a long look at Eola. “Can you give us some time? I bet the priest of Arkay here is spending all of his time preparing for the festivities.” The not so subtle hint was taken well by Eola. They were better friends now, but there were some things they weren’t ready to talk about or share. Eola didn’t want to talk about the Reach right now, and Elayne had boatloads of things she didn’t want to share. The other Breton slipped out of the room, heels walking away from the door. Once she was far enough away, she gave Gabriella a longer look. “Come lay on the bed. Rest up for a little bit.”
Gabriella was still recovering from her injury, and laid gingerly. “Do you remember the day we met?”
“When Astrid put a bag over my head and was lining me up with two other people she thought might have killed Grelod the Kind?”
“Yeah! We had lined you up with the skooma dealer and his bodyguard. We thought for certain it was one of you three. You hadn’t been wearing your mask and your hair was still that brown color that could disappear into any crowd.” Elayne hadn’t thought about that day in a long time. Or her old hair. She had gotten used to the long blue strands.
“That was Sarthis Idren and his bodyguard. I was hunting them down for the Jarl.”
“Well, the way you casually burned them with your dragon breath spoke something to Astrid’s heart, and she let you join the family. She honestly thought it was Sarthis that killed Grelod.”
Elayne blinked. She clearly remembered Astrid offering to let her join the Brotherhood, to taste what killing was really like. To join a family. Elayne was also convinced at the time that if she didn’t accept, she would have been cut down. Her hands had been tied and it wasn’t likely she could shout enough to kill Astrid and Gabriella. Things just kind of spiralled from there, as she became part of the Dark Brotherhood. “Well, I guess I have proven myself.”
Gabriella’s cloak had fallen open, revealing her shorter than normal robes. She did have nice legs, Elayne decided. “You did. But I am in deep shit.” The Listener of the Dark Brotherhood in trouble? Perish the thought. “I went to meet with Amaund Motierre. He gave me an amulet and a target.”
“What kind of amulet?” Elayne murmured. “Even a gold diamond necklace might not pay for job.”
“It was unique. Had a dragon on it, was made from something impressive. Astrid told me to get it appraised at Riften, but I was attacked before I got there. Whoever they were, they were dressed in all black and blue. Had a facemask that covered their identity. I thought it was you for a second, but she had actual breasts so it had to be someone else.”
“Wow! Thanks for the reminder Gabriella.” Elayne added, deadpan.
The Dunmer kept talking, taking a moment to chuckle. “She stole the amulet from my bag, and ran off! She had a horse and I didn’t. I’ve been looking for her ever since, but I have had no luck. And Astrid is going to have my head if we don’t have a way of getting paid to kill someone as high value as this!” She continued her story. “He wants us to kill Vittoria Vici.”
“The owner of the East Empire Company in Skyrim?” It was an open secret that the woman was quite powerful. “Isn’t she getting married soon?” Elayne had heard Endarie and Taarie talking about making the wedding dress. She didn’t know much more than that about her.
“We have been hired to kill her at her wedding.” Gabriella sighed. “But we don’t have much in the way of coffers to pay for this. Bribes, safehouses, invitations, any of it. Astrid says we are skin and bone. We have money, but Astrid never spends a certain amount. Says she i s saving it for if anyone comes hunting us.”
“I know what that amulet is.” Elayne said. “It’s his token of office as part of the Elder Council. He’s the minister of foreign affairs.”
“How would you know that?!” Gabriella glared. “You haven’t even seen it!”
Because she knew who stole it in the other world. But Gabriella wasn’t aware of Captured Dreams or it’s powers. “I get to meet with Amaund Motierre tomorrow. His emissary told me about the amulet and his position in the Empire.”
“Is he trustworthy?”
“If you are asking if he is good for the money, he is. He was the one who wrote the Empire’s side of the White-Gold Concordat. He’s close to the Emperor, and has been since the war. He’s influential enough to afford to pay the family. As the Dragonborn Hero, I get to speak to him about my summit.”
“Your summit?” Gabriella looked confused. “I haven’t heard about it.”
“I’ve invited every major power in Skyrim to the table. To fight Harkon.”
Garbiella looked away, frowning. “Babette said-”
“Babette didn’t have something that would draw out Harkon from his fortress.” Elayne interrupted sternly. “I do. The third and last elder scroll he needs and his only child.”
“It sounds like you’re starting another war.”
“I am going to do what I can to save people. Harkon took what I need to stop Alduin. I will do whatever it takes to keep the world from ending. There are people who deserve to see their whole lives ahead of them. Children who don’t have a choice about their heritage that deserve the chance to change it.”
“And some people who deserve to have their life ended.” Gabriella shared. “Astrid feels for you. She’s worried about you.”
“What does that even look like? Her worried about me?”
“She performed the Black Sacrament. In front of the entire family. She begged that the Night Mother would let us hunt Alduin.”
“What?!” Elayne nearly shouted, her eyes widening. “She has no idea how to-”
“The Night Mother accepted.” Gabriella said, almost a whisper. “She said that Sithis could not take his soul, but they would accept his eye. For all the power of Sithis, she cannot take the soul of that being. We have been contracted to blind the eye of the son of Akatosh.” Gabriella smiled, a warm emotion on her face. “When you fight him, you won’t do it alone. Your family will fight with you. We aren’t Dragon hunters. But we are assassins. We can’t be your best line of duty warriors, but when the moment counts, please don’t forget us. We too, have our Daedric gifts. You are not the only person that can harm him.”
Elayne was speechless. She didn’t know what to say, and just sat there with her mouth open. Gabriella took her hand, gently holding it. “That’s what family means to us. You’re family. You rescued me from torture and death, and risked your entire reputation to do so. You’re a Thane of Whiterun. You put that at risk for me. I will never forget that. Nor the day you joined our family. You looked terrified, like you had stepped into something you didn’t expect. But,” The Dunmer’s features softened. “But you never gave up. It’s been a long time since we have had any kind of hope in the Brotherhood. A very long time. Our lives are on the line with yours. Astrid wanted me to come and find you. To tell you that we stand with you.”
“But you’ll die.” Alduin was a flying vehicle of death and destruction. “You’ll all die.”
“Nevertheless.” Gabriella still smiled. “We’re family. We would never be able to live with ourselves if our dark hero fought the World Eater without her family at her side.” Her cheeks colored, and she bit her lip as she leaned into the pillows on the bed. “Now, I need your help.”
“I’m always willing to help you, Gabriella.”
“Can you help me find that amulet? Astrid says I need to find it before I can come back home.”
“There is only one group that would even pay for it.” Elayne pointed out. “Any legal shopkeeper would never be able to sell that or get their money’s worth for it. So, you might have to start in Riften.”
“I was hoping your magical hero senses would just know where it was. I’ve already been to Riften, so now I’m chasing ghosts.” Gabriella sighed. “I’ll be back in Solitude before the week is out. We’re fulfilling Amaund’s contract.” The Dunmer stood, flicking her hair out of the way. “Nice dress, by the way! You’re looking ready to tease your summit into existence.”
“Gabriella!” Elayne said, shocked. “I would never!” That was a lie and she knew it. If it meant making this summit work, Elayne realized she had no problem using her body to get the job done. But her mouth spoke before her body would ever get to truly express its opinion. Gabriella had to leave not long after, to go hunting ghosts and rumors. But it was unlikely that she would find the amulet. Elayne suspected it was Karliah, but that was only because of the other world. Either way, she had to prepare for the meeting she was having the next day. She didn’t want to tell Gabriella that she was actually meeting with the Emperor and Motierre together.
That meeting came, and Elayne wore her best dress for it. Which was still incomprehensibly slutty. It was the longest skirt she owned, the dress a white and cream ruffled number that was held impossibly tight to her waist. Slight ruffles in the bodice gave the illusion that she wasn’t flat as a board. It had wispy sleeves, but they barely reached her elbow. As well, her collar was on blatant display. Thankfully she was covering her blushing cheeks with her dragon priest mask. There was no mistaking who she was, even as she moved through the crowds of people filtering throughout the plaza and through the temple of the divines. Following the instructions she had been given, she went to an office for the Thalmor here in Solitude. The door looked like it hadn’t seen any kind of cleaning in months. The dust was disturbed, but it was in an area of Castle Dour that clearly had fallen out of use.
When she opened the door, the chambers were lit in one of the back rooms. The front was barely lit. She had taken three clicking steps before a man stepped out of the shadows, shutting the door behind her. The sign of the Oculatus was upon his armor, and another man stepped out of the darkness to hold up a decorative platter. “Your weapons, Lady Dragonborn.”
She hadn’t brought more than her steel dagger of paralysis. Taking it from her belt, she placed the slim blade on the platter. “I don’t have anything else.”
They frisked her anyways, even checking her smallclothes for weapons! Elayne tried not to complain, but they handled her soul gems rather roughly. It took them a few minutes to decide her miniscule breasts were not weapons, and let her go. Slightly embarrassed and feeling self-conscious, she was led into what seemed to be the Thalmor’s headquarters. It was abandoned, seemingly in a hurry. There were loose papers and books strewn everywhere.
It was in a central chamber with a desk that she found the Emperor. He was wearing a regular set of Legion officer armor, far less ostentatious than the robes she expected to see. But who else could it be? He was older, but there was a sense of purpose to him. As though he was more important than any other person in the room. She made eye contact with him, and bowed. “Emperor Mede.” She intoned softly. “My name is Elayne of Wayrest.”
She realized another man was standing next to the Emperor. He had fine clothing from Cyrodil, the red color bright in this dusty room. But the washed out skin and gaunt appearance made the man himself blend with the background. “Miss Elayne-” This man started saying, before the Emperor held up his hand. It silenced him immediately.
“Elayne of Wayrest. Lady Dragonborn. Daughter of a merchant and a lesser noble of the Reach.” The Emperor’s voice was like a knife. It was smooth and powerful. Elayne felt her nipples harden without her assent, hidden as they were behind soft silks. “You requested a meeting with me, in regards to this Skyrim crisis?”
“For Alduin.” She clarified.
“Dragons. Stormcloak rebels. Reach rebels. Vampires. Werewolves. Ancient Atmoran evils.” The Emperor waved his hand. “Skyrim has been troubled my entire reign. No end of it. High Rock has remained quite calm in comparison. The Empire of Tiber Septim remains shattered, with potential enemies upon every front.” His gaze was cold. “I am entertaining your request because I have time. I only came into this province to see my cousin married. Once that is over, I plan on returning back to Cyrodil. This is Amaund Motierre, a member of my Elder Council.”
“I am pleased to meet the Minister of Foreign affairs.” Elayne bowed again, not as deep as for the Emperor. It seemed to brighten the man’s countenance. “And I have a plan that will bring all of the major powers of Skyrim to the same table. The vampires have taken an elder scroll that I needed to use in order to stop Alduin. They are unlikely to give it back, which prevents me from learning how to truly stop the son of Akatosh. I can injure him. I might be able to kill him if I had the right tools, but it would be my only shot at doing so wasted.”
“Tell me about this elder scroll.” The Emperor asked, his eyes focused on her. Her traitorous nipples were doing their best to perk up through layers of smalls and dress. “I want to hear your story first. We will not be disturbed here. The Thalmor abandoned this place at the start of the hostilities with Stormcloaks, and as such is the last place they would be observing. There is no one here to overhear any secrets you may share. And share you must, if you wish my assistance or blessing towards Tullius supporting you.”
Amaund Motierre had just paid the Dark Brotherhood to kill the Emperor’s cousin. The very same cousin that he had come for a wedding. It all sounded rather terrible, if you looked at it closely. But she didn’t have time to worry about that. Succinctly, she shared her tale with the Emperor. From the executioner's axe to a very simple story about the only time Harkon had left his castle in the past to find his daughter. How she knew he would come again if he knew the third and final scroll were within his grasp.
“Hold there.” The Emperor called. “You know of the location of three elder scrolls?”
“Yes. About four and a half to five feet long, scrolls made of literal starlight.” She nods. “I took one from Mzinchaleft, a dwemer city deep below us. The Dwemer had created a chamber that could make an artificial sky. Sunlight, moon and starlight could be manipulated to mimic different states of the moons and stars.” The Emperor’s eyes were locked on her own. They had spared a single glance to her dress and collar before focusing on her for the rest of the conversation. “I was able to extract it from the device with the help of a mage I met at the college of Winterhold. As well as an expedition that included the support of Calcelmo, who has a museum in Markarth.” The Emperor waved his hand, as if this information was not important.
“He can confirm you were holding an Elder Scroll?”
“His nephew saw. As well as Isran, a member of the Vigilants of Stendarr. They can confirm I had possession of the scroll. But I gave it to my housecarl to take back to my home in Whiterun. It was taken from her possession there.”
“So that was how you lost it?” It sounded damning, coming from his lips.
“I don’t know how it was lost. My housecarl was turned into a vampire and I had to find and kill her. She had already given the scroll to Harkon, but she had stated that Harkon already had one scroll in his possession before she gave him the second.”
“Do you trust the words of a traitor thus?”
“It was her last words. Before we brought her remains back to Whiterun to be buried with her forefathers. To a Nord, it was sacred.”
“I’ve learned that not everything the Nords consider sacred is actually so in recent years.” The Emperor considered. “That’s two scrolls. Now the third?” His eyes bore into her own, looking for any sign of deceit or falsehood. Or so she assumed.
“Currently sealed with his daughter in a crypt thousands of years old. We have teams digging up the entrance now.”
“Who is we?”
“The Vigilants of Stendarr, who have agreed that this vampire threat is an insult against the Aedra.”
“I would trust them to know what they are doing.” The Emperor admitted. “And the point of this summit?”
“To organize a strike force between the major factions and a possible ceasefire until Alduin is dead.”
“You would hold this entire province ransom against a man like Stormcloak?” He raised an eyebrow. “Time does not benefit his cause.”
“I would do anything to stop the World Eater.” She said with conviction. “I only know that Aedric or Daedric artifacts can even harm him. If you know of anything that would lead to some, it would improve my chances.”
“Our chances.” Motierre pointed out from his side of the table. “If this creature truly has this power to end the world, it would not be you fighting alone.”
“None of you have the power to absorb the souls of dragons. Even if you kill them, Alduin has the power to bring their souls back and animate their bones. Until Alduin himself is dead, every corpse in skyrim from a dragon can be brought back as many times as he needs until he wins. Before the First Era the dragons ruled the main continent of Tamriel. The Ayleids couldn’t rise in power until the dragons were dealt with. Atmora and Skyrim were their homelands. If we don’t beat Alduin here, he’s going to raze Skyrim to the ground, and then go north.”
“North?” Motierre was confused. “Why?”
“Atmora.” The Emperor realized. “Where we cannot follow.”
“There are dragons buried there, too. But if he is the world-eater, he could be doing something in Atmora that we could not stop. Right now he is building his power here in Skyrim, but there are dragons elsewhere that were buried. Like Akavir.”
“You wish to drag him into battle here in Skyrim. Within your lifetime.”
“As soon as I can. I’m getting ebony armor and some way of surviving his claws. And I have one daedric artifact. I can kill him with that, at least.”
“I know of an artifact that may aid you.” The Emperor considered. “But it has a dark power. It is contained in one of Skyrim’s holds, though its Jarl has asked that I send a priest with a strong will to remove it from there. Perhaps you would be a good substitute.” He glanced at Motierre, who was looking at the table. “Which artifact do you have?”
“The Mace of Molag Bal.”
“A dark item.” He nods. “If this summit is a success, I will help you find more.” He clapped his hands, as a man came in from the side with Alto wine and fresh baked bread. “Tullius thinks you are a daft fool.” The Emperor spoke clearly that he might share that opinion. “But you are a daft fool that can drag Stormcloak to the table. The Empire must support your summit if we are to appear supportive of High Rock. Wayrest is paying close attention to the situation in Skyrim. As you are Elayne of Wayrest, I would spit upon its monarch and nobility if I refuse to partake in your summit. You hold me ransom in a way. The Empire cannot be seen as weak in this time. But we are not coming to this without expectations.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to.”
“Good.” He growled. “I want Ulfric Stormcloak’s head on a pike. I want his movement buried so deep that no one ever gets the idea again to stand up to the Empire.” Elayne noticed Motierre grinning at that statement. “He killed a king that he himself shared in the decision of crowning.”
“When I spoke to him, he told me about Markarth.” All eyes were on her, now. “My mother was born there. We were powerful back then. She only had to worry about finding a nice husband. She went off to Wayrest, and the rest of my family stayed and fought. Or died. I asked him about that day. Why he sacked the city.”
“I doubt you would have received an honest answer.” Motierre mocked. “Stormcloak was a thug and bandit jarl in the great war as well. His military record does not speak well of him.” The man mocked.
“What did he say?” Titus Mede asked, clearly. “Lie or not, that was his defining moment. His first major act.”
“He said he would do it again. That he did not regret using the Voice to destroy Madanach’s wife, the champion of Molag Bal. That for the sake of the worship of Talos, he would keep true to his beliefs.” Elayne generally quoted the man. “He was committed.”
“In your opinion, what will he try at the summit?”
“Anything that he can to secure his position. But he won’t be trying to kill Tullius. Not on High Hrothgar.”
“Are you so sure of that?”
“I invoked Talos himself. The chamber where he planned the attack upon Sancre Tor is the location of the Summit. I don’t think he would spill blood in a sacred site of Talos.”
“Our spies report that he does go to the temple of Talos daily.” The Emperor considered. “If he is a true worshipper of Talos, that would hold true.” He chuckled. “So, he will most likely demand Markarth. All of his troop movements have been hard pressing through the mountains to cut off our supply lines. We have High Rock, for now.” His eyes narrowed as he stared at her. “But if I don’t support your summit, I would be losing their support. Which must justify other means of getting what I want.”
“What do you want?” Elayne dared ask.
“Peace! The White-Gold Concordat won’t last forever. Both sides are regaining their strength. Yet instead of rebuilding I am having my legions focused on one trouble after another! Thalmor are making more trouble in High Rock as we speak. They want Cyrodil alone. By the gods they nearly have it. Hammerfell stands alone, devastated and low on men and mages capable of countering the foe! Are you facilitating this summit for any kind of lasting peace?” Motierre answered for the Emperor, rambling.
“I told Stormcloak that I don’t care who wins the war-”
“A bald faced lie.” Titus Mede interrupted. “You are a registered merchant of alchemical reagents from Wayrest. Your father is a decent craftsman and merchant in textiles and alchemically treated linen, though he never seems to be able to hold his money long enough to expand his business. Perhaps you share his knack for embellishment. If Stormcloak wins, Skyrim becomes independent, cutting off High Rock from all but sea trade. The textile business your father so values and depends upon would be cut off if he won. Along with a thousand other men and women that depend on Skyrim’s trade. By letting him win, you simply spread the hurt and pain elsewhere.”
“But by taking a side I am no longer the hero all of Skyrim can depend upon. My neutrality lets me go between the nine holds with impunity. I can fight a dragon anywhere, and the Nords know that I have no other reason to be there than to help them!”
“A warrior and a poet.” The Emperor mused. “You sound like one of Morrowind’s Bouyant Armigers. Of course, I cannot support a peace summit that is not already in my favor. Especially one that lives and breathes by the heart of a hero. At this rate, Lady Dragonborn I am leaning towards sending Amaund here with the intention of destroying whatever peace you envision. For I cannot see any lasting effects that benefit the Empire of Titus Mede.”
As the Emperor sipped his wine, Elayne frowned. It was time to bring out her cards. “What if I can help with some of your troubles? I can at least end the rebellion in the Reach in one motion.”
The Emperor smiled. “Ah, Motierre, have them bring the luncheon. We are finally getting to the meat of the matter. How would you approach us without some kind of leverage, Motierre and I could not fathom. But now, my curiosity is sparked and I find myself in want of more.” He grinned as a decorative platter was brought in. “Speak, Elayne of Wayrest.” He kept changing what he was inferring her title to be. Either as citizen of his empire or hero against Alduin. To be fair, she didn’t know which one held more value. “Or watch your hopes and dreams of peace be dashed as far as my own.”
“Madanach, of the Longhouse line of Emperors and men of the Reach had one surviving daughter. As we speak, the leaders of the Reach are meeting to decide if they should continue to support Madanach as their king or allow her to take that seat. But she wants something different compared to Madanach. She does not want revenge, except upon her father.” Elayne tried some of the luncheon that was brought, finding the taste decadent and high quality. “Oh my gods, is that truffle salt?” She had only had this once as a child, after a particularly fantastic return from one of her father’s ventures.
“It is.” Motierre said with relief. “Nearly impossible to find in this province. But there are a few chefs in this place that are of the highest of quality. We of course had them brought to Solitude for our visit.”
“The Reachfolk do not want revenge?” Titus brought their attention back to the table. “They have dead family and friends in unmarked graves from Markarth to Falkreath. You are related to them, can you honestly say they will simply forgive the Nords of Markarth and move on? These Bretons have never kept a treaty since the second era.”
“I’m not asking for a treaty. I’m asking to create another hold in Skyrim.” Amaund Motierre looked like she had grown wings. He looked astounded. Titus Mede, on the other hand was smiling.
“Please, do go on. It’s ideas like this that would create conniptions.”
“The Reachmen want to make a new start. A new hold in between Falkreath and Markarth. There are abandoned mines and old cities in the area that they wish to develop. If you were to declare a new hold for them, it would end the fighting in Markarth. As well as stop the attacks from the Forsworn in half the province.”
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Skyrim: Plaything