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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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Elayne groaned, feeling someone shaking her shoulder. “Elayne!” Blinking, she looked up, her face a bloody mess. She could feel blood crusted upon her lips and nose. It had been a while. “Elayne, snap out of it! Someone roll up that scroll, it’s making the room spin!”
She couldn’t tell who was talking, but it sounded familiar. The room was swimming, as she tried in vain to move her body. “She’s covered in blood!”
“It’s just from a nosebleed! One of her ears may have been damaged too. Let Mirabelle through! She’s the best healer in Skyrim!”
“Don’t let Keeper Carcette hear you say that.” That sounded like like Baalgruf.
“Everyone knows her bedside manner is like a fire atronach.” Savos! That was the name behind the blurry voice. “I much prefer Mirabelle.”
Warmth filled her, numb fingers returning to comfortable temperatures as fatigue and weakness passed from her limbs. It didn’t mean she was healed, but she wasn’t numb from pain or fatigue. Someone lifted her up, and with some amusement she watched as Mirabelle pulled her Forsworn armor back over her gems. Not that she could really hide the fact that those were on her anymore. That was an open secret. She had been running around for days with her navel showing, and people could easily assume that it was not the only place she had a piercing. She gave a groan as she was balanced into a chair.
“She’s in shock.” Savos murmured. “What did she see?”
“How we win.” She coughed, not tasting blood anymore as someone wiped off her face. “How to defeat Alduin.”
“Thank the Gods.” Baalgruf whispered gratefully. “They take pity upon us.”
“I don’t think we could ever understand things from their point of view. We just don’t have the ability to. As much as I think I was starting to understand them, well.” Elayne closed her eyes, not looking at the scrolls that she knew were still on the table. “I was just shown that I have no idea what it means to see from their perspective. It was like they could understand things that I would need experts and books and years of work in a single instant just by looking at it, or tilting their head differently.” She coughed, groaning again. “Anyone have water? Or something a little stronger?”
Something foul and powerful was brought near her nose. “Not that brandy! Gods she needs to see straight, not get ruined all over again!” Mirabelle glowered. “Alto Wine. Yes, that will take the edge off much nicer.”
The wine didn’t burn that much. Did no one drink water around here? That’s all she really wanted. Maybe it would wash out the taste of blood in her mouth. Which officially made this the worst nosebleed she had ever experienced. “That’s better.” She sighed, looking around the table. It seemed like everyone that she had ever cared for was in the watchtower with her. “What are all of you staring at?”
“How do we defeat the World-Eater?!” Baalgruf bellowed, unable to contain himself. “What did you see?!”
“Oh hush, she’s in shock.” Mirabelle said politely. “Give her at least an hour.”
“We don’t have a day! The World-Eater comes soon, and his armies are crawling all over the provinces. Tell us what you saw!”
“Alduin is just as much a mortal child as any of us. There are things about himself that even he doesn’t know.” Elayne said, having trouble seeing so many people around her. It might have been the headache, but her vision was already swimming. “And now I understand him to the point that I know why he is lashing out. It’s not his only nature.” She sighed in relief as she drank more of the alto wine. “I know how to defeat him. But in order to do it, I need the best archers you have. I don’t have more than one shot.” Well, really she had two. But it was better for them to think that she only had one shot.
“Baalgruf? Organize an archery contest in the name of the Dragonborn. Immediately.” Irileth spoke up. “We need to find the best archer in the province. Before sunup.”
“That’s how we defeat him? With a single archer?” Savos considered.
“Oh no,” Elayne spoke up. “I need Faralda. She needs to lead as many mages as we can muster to hit Alduin with frost magic. It’s the only way that he will land.”
“We will all provide.” Savos said, patting the staff of Magnus. “I assume the Forsworn will also?”
“Aye.” Gwynabyth responded wholeheartedly. “That we will. Frost magic? We are going to make the damn sky freeze if that is what it takes.”
“What then?!” Baalgruf rumbled, barely containing himself.
“Anyone with an artifact of daedric or aedric origin will have that limited time to fight him directly. That’s it. That’s all I’ve got. I’ll want to talk to,” She coughed, vision still swimming. “The archer. But that’s what the scroll told me to do. That’s our chance.”
“Gods above.” Baalgruf prayed. “Let us still be here tomorrow night.”
“If we do this,” Eola spoke up. “It’s gonna be the party of the era.”
“If there is any mead left in the province.” Baalgruf replied, smirking.
There was some hesitant laughter at that. Nords always appreciated that kind of thought. It was enough to start emptying the room, as Elayne was given soup and warm mead for her blood loss. Mirabelle was truly great at her art, but the woman was in high demand upon a battlefield. Without crippling wounds, Elayne only received a basic restoration of her faculties before being given a pat on her shoulder. Which left her mostly rested and awake at sundown. Not that she would have been able to sleep with Alduin coming in the morning as it was. So, she wandered slowly about the camp. She had Serana with her, and found a campfire with Arngeir talking to Gwynabyth. They were speaking in hushed tones, and Elayne thought she could hear whispers about her. Of course her aunt would be hunting for gossip. The utter troll.
Behind the watchtower, there was a farther campfire. Out of curiosity, she found that one to have the Dark Brotherhood. A newly adult and still adjusting Babette was cooking, in awe and wonder of herself constantly. “Sister!” Babette called, hearing her even from the campfire.
“Sister!” The rest of the family cheered. “What was it like to communicate with deity?” Gabriella added.
“Like my brain was exploding inside my skull while every inch of my body was healed back every second I kept being exposed in a constant cycle of creation and destruction.” She answered, as if her mind supplied the answer. It wasn’t exactly the way she would put it, but the Anuic energies were certainly capable of it. Shaking her head, she snapped out of it. She didn’t want another nosebleed from thinking too hard about Aedra.
“Babette, give her one of the potions you saved up.” Astrid spoke up, from her husband’s lap. Her skirt must be shorter, or she had pulled it up. She wouldn’t be the type of woman to have sex in public! But it looked awful close. “We moved our camp to be closer to you after Harkon attacked you. Cicero owns one of the most luxurious carts in Skyrim, as it turns out.” Astrid ground her hips deeper into Arnbjorn’s lap. No! She wasn’t! Elayne looked away, trying not to contemplate further. “But the horses are lacking.”
“Stealing a pair of plowhorses from a farm is unlikely to earn anyone any favors.” Cicero pointed out. “Does this make you the Aedra’s Listener?”
“Gods, I hope not. Can you imagine the way that Arkay would bitch and moan about Mortals all day?” Elayne mused out loud.
Gabriella nearly fell out of her seat. Her full bellied laugh was soon echoed by Cicero and Babette, whose new cleavage bounced around with each cackle.
“All powers have their price.” Festus said from a blackened log. “I hope, sister, that the Aedra did not demand too much of you for doing what seems to be their errand.”
“Alduin comes at dawn, we think.” She murmured. “I don’t think I could sleep if I tried.”
Nazir stood up, grinning. “I heard that against Harkon you looked like a weak warrior. How about we make good the time we have and show you a few tricks for someone that can’t take long steps, hmm?”
“I would love that!” Elayne smiled.
“Good. I saw the clumsy way you used that double scythe. Get that out. We have work to do. No one alive knows how to use that weapon effectively outside of a few daedra. We can use that to our advantage. At least if you have to deal with any Draugr.” This. This is exactly what she needed. It was calming without being totally physically exhausting. To have someone walk her through it was cathartic. And a way of not noticing Astrid getting hammered by Arnbjorn behind a tree log. A small part of her wished that she was in her position. But when she imagined herself in the same, she didn’t know whose face it was behind her.
But any musing was interrupted by a harsh red light pulsing through the night. A tear in reality was forming, as some sort of stone was pushing through and into this realm. It was in a massive shape, almost reminiscent of the rune for Oblivion. “A Gate.” Someone whispered. It must be Babette. She was around during the Oblivion Crisis. “It’s a fucking Oblivion Gate! Bal and Mephala!” Definitely Babette.
“That’s opening right next to the command tent!” Elayne was horrified. “Cicero, I need your horse!” In the distance, figures were passing through the gate, and spells were lighting up tents and setting people afire.
“Of course, sister!” The jester said, serious in this moment. “Come, Triskelion!” He called to one of the horses, which didn’t respond at all. Clearly Cicero’s skills were not in animal husbandry. “One moment, Sister. I must discipline that mare!”
“That’s a Stallion.” Festus chuckled.
“It’s horse shaped!” Cicero decried. “Is that not enough?”
None of the Dark Brotherhood were very good with animals. So they just took the horses and the cart towards the glowing portal. They were mostly put together, but fatigue was clear. This attack was happening at the worst possible time. “Sister Elayne. Sister Babette. Explain what we are about to fight.”
“Fuck! I’m not used to my body!” Babette groaned. “Mehrunes Dagon is the one with those gates, if I remember correctly.”
“Xyvilai, Dremora, Spider Daedra, Daedroth, Clannfear, and lots of different orders of Dremora.” Elayne said, from memory. “No flying daedra.”
“I’ve fought a Xyvilai once.” Nazir considered. “I considered it a fair fight.”
By the time they got near the command tent, they could see Imperial soldiers surrounding the area, holding up their shields and throwing candlelight spells above the din. It wasn’t daedra in front of the gate. It was a line of men wearing high quality armor. Better than what Imperial Soldiers could use. All of them had green armbands, but she couldn’t see more than that.
“What’s going on?!” She yelled, seeing an officer’s helmet.
“They’ve got the Emperor! All of the officers were in the command tent planning the defenses!” He said. “They’ll kill them if we approach.”
Elayne frowned. The world did not need this. And the green markers on all of the soldiers began to make sense. “Oh gods. He wasn’t trying to escape to Aetherius. He was coming here!” Everyone was looking at her. “Those men belong to a man named Shashev Helseth. He’s like me, he knows dragon shouts.”
“What do we do, Lady Dragonborn? They have the General and the Emperor. We can’t protect them.”
“Stop casting Candlelight.” Elayne muttered. “Astrid? I’m going to get his attention. Do you think you can?”
Astrid and the others were already casting Night Eye, grinning. “Reverse Kidnapping? No problem.”
Elayne cast the spell herself. The night changed, becoming a black and white glow of figures running around all over the place. She had to fight another Dragonborn. Would that be like fighting the Greybeards? No, he wasn’t a Nord pacifist. He would go for the kill, immediately. If he could find her. If. But if he thought she was nearby, maybe he would go on the warpath. Looking at the din, she pointed to the nearby soldiers. “Brace yourselves. They may attack us after I do this. Which will allow us to rescue the Emperor.”
She decided to use a shout that she had pulled a prank on Arngeir with. It was a shout that caused him and the other Greybeards endless grief until they too learned it. It was an odd one. The original shout was used to carry insults, but she and the Greybeards had pranked each other enough with it that they discovered that you could whisper a short message, and then the message would be carried by the shout. “How dare you, Shashev.” She whispered first. “Zul Mey Gut!” Unlike other shouts, this one was like a whisper. It didn’t roar across the heavens. Arngeir had once told her that her shoes looked terrible while they were all eating dinner using this shout. You had to aim it very carefully. She hit the side of the Emperor’s tent with it, as some of the green-clad men turned around to look where she was. Being that it was a whisper rather than a shout, it didn’t drain her very much to use at all. “I won’t let this stand, you know.” She whispered once more, with another whisper-shout aimed at Tullius’ tent.
But her two shouts got attention. The other Dragonborn’s men were pushed aside by a pack of people wearing dragonscale armor. The women looked like utter sluts in theirs. Babette had taken much the same from Janessa. Though one of the women was wearing Dragonbone armor, and looked like a walking advertisement for a proper Nordic housewife. At their head was a Dunmer, a shock of red hair coming out of his helmet, and wearing a full suit of Dragonscale armor. A glowing crown was upon his head, made with the dwarven metal she had become familiar with. He certainly had enough, with the way he had stripped ruins in his world. “Where are you, Elayne?” He spoke up, speaking her name with derision. “You can’t defeat me. You tried before I gained all of my powers, and couldn’t.”
“This world is different.” She whispered, aiming for the woman in full dragonbone. “Zul Mey Gut.”
Shashev didn’t twist to look at where it was going. His red eyes were searching the crowd. He knew how the shout worked, then. She couldn’t hide much more. “I must say, I didn’t expect you to raise an army. It seems you have a lot of friends here, Elayne! Much more than when I met you.” While he was talking, her hands were busy. The darkest poisons the Dark Brotherhood could give her were applied to her weapons. One to each of the daedric crescent’s blades. She couldn’t even tell what poisons were going on in the dark, but saw one of the vials was something Babette had whipped up for her with a yellow ribbon. A mixture powerful enough to dispel any active effects upon a creature. Good for both her or a foe. That one she moved to one of the small pouches at her belt. Or whatever you could call the armored loincloth of this armor.
“Alduin comes at dawn.” She whispered next, aiming for a dark haired seductress standing next to Shashev. The shout seemed to get his attention. He knew at least the direction it came from, and she shuffled quickly over to the officer from before. “He’s going to come after me. Kill me before I can stop Alduin.” She said. “We need to cover for my people that are saving the Emperor.”
“We’re with you, My Lady.” He said, with vigour. “You just give the word.”
“I know you’re there!” Shashev spoke up, oozing charm. “And I don’t care that Alduin is coming. I made a deal with the old drake. Now that I am here, the people can see what a true Dragonborn is supposed to do. How I will prevent the world from ending!” His voice was clear, and didn’t seem to have the same kind of accent that other Dunmer normally had. “You have a rather useless Dragonborn currently.” Shashev looked like a talker. Elayne had to stop that. So she got herself on top of everyone. Her boots were glowing, and every step she took felt like the very air itself was supporting her weight. So they could do more than just stop her from falling! Taking advantage of this, she whispered down to the Imperial officer.
“Give me a lot of light, please.” It seemed as though everyone heard that, as a pillar of candlelight spells lit up the area around her, making it almost noonday. With every step, she got higher in the sky, and she looked down at Shashev. He was clearly watching her, and everyone from Whiterun to the throat of the world could see her. “My fellow men and women!” She shouted. And control of her voice was gone. It roared across the battlefield, like the Greybeards when they were surprised. There was no control anymore. “An usurper has arisen from a different shade of Mundus. He calls himself Dragonborn, but I know the truth. He is a thief. A conman who swindles the very hearts of men and women and enslaves those he cannot convince. He has taken our Emperor and our King hostage. I am the woman who ended the civil war. I am the hero who killed Harkon!” Technically. “There is no bandit I have killed that I did not provide for their burial. No tomb I have plundered. No treasures unlawfully taken! I have respect for the living and the dead! And in this hour, as the dead march upon us this thief believes he can take from us all that we have worked for?”
The entire valley was silent. Shashev was whispering to his men, but from up here she could only see a few of them. Maybe fifty all told. “I say unto all of you no! Never in the face of Tyranny will Skyrim be broken! For King and Emperor! We must close that Gate!” Pillars of light were being cast along the paths leading to the command tent, which already had the most central location in the army. “Though they may wear the faces of friends or loved ones, they may be daedra in disguise! Defeat them, or we face another Oblivion Crisis! For Tamriel! For the High King of Skyrim!”
The answering roar followed, as the tide of men and mer rolled upon the green clad wall of men. More were coming through the Oblivion Gate, but to her horror she could see Shashev rising above on his own levitation spell. His crown was glowing, and he seemed angry. Pissed beyond belief, more like. “I can’t honestly believe you. When I met your weak crying self, you told me you were beyond help. That you couldn’t go on.”
“You don’t know me.” Elayne said coldly. Not an inch could be given to someone like this. A charm spell, or any kind of option to manipulate would be taken advantage of.
“Hardly true. How could I not know the secret to my empire’s success?” Shashev said, languidly marching into the air to stand a few feet from her. “Do you think I don’t know my own slave mistress? You, Elayne of Wayrest were the one who agreed that my plan was better than any you could come up with. And so I became the Dragonborn, and you took over Fort Dawnguard, and made certain that all those that followed me were loyal.” His eyes took a dangerous glance over her gear. “To the death.”
“I would never do such a thing.” All of those women. Men and women, their lives shattered and broken in the name of Shashev Helseth. “I’ve asked around, to see if you exist in this world.”
“Upon this shade of mundus I was killed at my birth. Born in the shadow of Umbriel, my mother tried to save me from the destruction of Mournhold. My father was King of all Resdayn and I was to be born into glorious power! Yet all I have of his heritage is a signet.” He held up a hand, something glittering upon his finger. “I was to inherit all of Resdayn! Except that the Daedra saw fit to ruin such plans. Well, the Aedra gifted me with the way to restore my birthright.” His eyes centered upon her. “You, of course.”
“Me?!” She lost her composure right there. The air rippled from the force of that. “I am no one’s tool!”
“No, you aren’t.” Shashev held out a hand, offering it to her. “You are nothing more than a Plaything. By your own weak willed desire to let someone else decide for you.” His crown began glowing, and Elayne felt herself almost slipping away into its glow. “And once my Plaything’s soul finds its new body, our partnership will shatter the world once more.” In his hand was an eight pointed artifact. It rested in between his fingers, but at the center was a black gem that made her earrings rattle horribly. It was Azura’s star. It had to be. But the surface was dark, and she felt something horrible at the edge of her perception. Like a pulsing pressure upon her mind.
“But you gave her to Hermaeus Mora!”
“The woodland man received her body, yes. But that was all he dragged out of me. Her soul was mine, and always shall be. Now, break down like every time before. Break, my Elayne. Become my Plaything like you always were supposed to be.” The glow of his crown seemed omnipresent, and even closing her eyes did nothing to hamper it.
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Skyrim: Plaything