Epilogue

I am Ragnar, son of Ragnar and Serana Dragonborn. First in line to the Dragonborn throne. Brother to Kodlak Ragnarsson and Julia Seranasdottir. And before me stand the Legions of my father's army, Emperor of Cyrodiil, Skyrim, High Rock and Hammerfell, protector of Anequina, Black Marsh and Valenwood. Once known as the Last Dragonborn, now he is the third Last Dragonborn, my brother and myself of the Dragon Blood. Well, that is until my brother, sister and I have children. I know mother is looking forward to grandchildren.

Since the age of 12, I have been trained by either my father or his friends as my destiny is to take his place and rule the Empire he has spent the past decade trying to rebuild. It has been a long and bloody struggle, but it has been a worthwhile war. My personal input was limited at the start, as I was quickly sent to Skyrim and High Hrothgar, where I was told of my gift and learned what it meant to be Dragonborn. It was there that I learned the real story of my father, who he was, what he did, and how he was now Emperor.

And at the summit of the mountain, I met a dragon.

As I learned with the Greybeards, my father's Legions met success and failure. The First, Third and Fourth Legions smashed the Thalmor forces that they met in Valenwood, sweeping south and west, surrounding and besieging the capital, Falinesti, as they continued to drive their way to the sea. The Second and Seventh Legions entered Anequina, linking up with a Khajit force and together they marched south, the Second splintering off towards Elden Root in Valenwood, cutting off the country.

Regarding action at sea, Senchal was quickly taken by the First Fleet, forcing the Thalmor Navy in the area further and further west, with assistance from ships of the Argonian Navy. In the west, the Second and Fourth Fleets slowly but surely gained the upper hand, and soon had the Thalmor in retreat once the Third Fleet arrived from various harbours around Skyrim.

The above all sounds like continuous success. It wasn't. The Third Legion was nearly annihilated, extending too far into Valenwood in an attempt to conquer Greenheart, finding themselves caught between the city and an entire Thalmor Army. Thousands died before they were relieved by the Fourth. After that disaster, my father held a conference with Field Marshal Tullius. He offered his resignation for the losses, though my father wouldn't hear of it. He understood that things go wrong in war, and that there would be losses and mistakes.

Tullius never made another one. Or, at least, never made another one as large again.

It took over five long years, as the Thalmor fought for every inch. Pellitine was subdued once the Sixth Legion landed in Senchal and immediately headed west. Caught between a pincer movement, Pellitine sued for peace once their capital was under siege, knocking them out of the war, as Anequina quickly moved in to take control.

Falinesti held out for as long as possible, relieved by the Thalmor Navy, who managed to get the occasional ship through the blockade, but after a siege lasting eighteen months, the starving and desperate inhabitants finally capitulated. The Legion entered to find Thalmor soldiers hanging from rooftops and lampposts.

The last city to fall was Greenheart, the Thalmor making their last stand on the continent. My father oversaw the battle himself, allowing Bosmer civilians to escape, before he raised the flag that no quarter be given to any who wore the uniform of the Thalmor.

It is an event that is still spoken of to this day, though only in hushed terms. No-one believes what they did was wrong. It was vengeance for events during the First Great War.

I glanced at my father beside me, his blonde hair greying slightly, though he was still a strong, intimidating man. Beside him was Aela, my other mother. I know above I called myself the son of Serana Dragonborn. That is simply who I think I am. But they told me the truth the day war broke out. It was difficult to accept at first, but it helped explain my red hair!

To my other side was Delphine, Commander of the 'Claws', one of my father's closest confidants. To her other side was Field Marshal Marcus Tullius. He was now an old man, in the grand scheme of things, but he had brought success after success. My father trusted him more than nearly anyone and would only let him retire once the war was won, or if he died in the saddle.

In the distance lay Alinor, the capital of the Aldmeri Dominion, although considering the Dominion no longer exists, it was again just the capital of the Summerset Isles. It had taken time for ships to be built and the Legions of the Empire to be transported across, but considering our dominance of the seas, our invasion of Summerset Isles was a success, though we suffered some staggering losses.

"Father, is it time?"

He looked at me with a smirk. "You just want to test your Thu'um."

"I have not used it in many a year, since my training with the Greybeards. Will it still work?"

My father bellowed with laughter. "You were born with it, Ragnar, and you shall die with it. It doesn't go away. No, we're not going to call them in. We have managed all this without their help so far. I'm confident my Legions can conquer this damned city. They have conquered nearly everywhere else possible."

Noise behind gained our attention, turning to see mother ride a horse, stopping between us. She looked at me first and smiled. "Ragnar."

"Mother, are you well?"

"As well as can be expected." She turned to my father and kissed him. Even after all these years, father still worshipped the ground my mother walked on. I do not know much about love myself, as I have yet to meet a woman to take my heart, though I'm sure I'd end up married to a princess or some nobles' daughter, but from what I knew of my father and mother, books, poems and songs had already been written about them. My father loved my mother completely, as much as she loved him.

"Husband, will you promise me one thing."

"Anything for you."

"Return to me. And return to me with my son."

"You have my word. Alinor will fall, the war will be over, and we will return home as a family." He sighed. "I wouldn't mind the rest myself."

Mother leaned over and kissed my cheek before she turned and rode back to camp.

"Lydia!" my father called.

She turned and rode back from her position near the lines of mages. "Yes, sir?"

"Give the order to unfurl banners. The Thalmor must know why we are here!"

"Yes, sir!"

We couldn't hear it all, as the Legions were spread far and wide, but soon enough, banners were unfurled in front of each Legion. The banner of our Empire. The banner of my father's line. The banner of Talos, our god. And the banner of the other Eight Divines, of course. But we all knew why we were fighting.

"Field Marshal Tullius, are the civilians out?" my father wondered.

"Some have left, sir, though others have refused to leave."

"That is their choice. It is the wrong choice. But they were made aware what would happen if they chose not to."

"Correct, sir."

"Son, it is time."

"But I thought…"

He glanced at me and smiled. "A poor joke. You are aware of the agreement I struck with them?" I nodded. Of course I knew. The Greybeards and my father had drilled that into me. "That is why. I would prefer they be left alone, but the invasion of these damned isles…"

"It was always bound to be difficult, sir," Tullius said.

"It was. Damned near failed too," Delphine added.

"Come," father ordered, "We shall do it in front of the men so they have no fear."

We slowly rode through the ranks, thousands upon thousands of soldiers. It wasn't long before they were cheering and applauding their Emperor. The respect and admiration my father had was near limitless. We were well out of range of any attempt on our lives as we dismounted our horses, which were taken away by another soldier.

"Okay, son. You may Shout first. Into the sky. Your voice will carry."

I Shouted for my father's old friend, the dragon I had met on the mountaintop. Father Shouted for the dragon he respected most, the respect more than mutual. Soon, there were roars in the distance, hearing the shuffle of men behind us as father and I glanced to the sky. Two dragons soon circled above us before swooping down, eventually landing before us. I heard the orders of commanders for their men to hold. Legion upon Legion had been informed of our gift, though seeing was believing.

Father walked towards the two dragons. "Odahviing. Paarthurnax. Are you well?"

Odahviing snorted. "Woken from my slumber, Dovahkiin." Then he looked at me. "Who is this?"

"My son, the next Dragonborn Emperor."

"Your son? He has the gift?"

"Would you like to taste it?" I wondered.

I heard Paarthurnax rumble with laughter. "The young one will surprise you, Odahviing. It is pure."

"Very well, young Dovahkiin. Let me taste your Thu'um."

I Shouted at Odahviing, the dragon making a snort of approval. "Hmmm. Pure, it is. Almost the same as your father's."

"Why are we here, Dovahkiin?" Paarthurnax asked.

"See that city?" he asked, pointing in the distance, "It is the capital of the former Aldmeri Dominion, known also as the Thalmor. Within its walls are an unknown number of enemy. Its sheer size near rivals the Imperial City, considering they've probably been building it in secret for centuries."

"And what would you like us to do?"

"Help us take the city. I was intent on burning it all the ground, leaving nothing behind. But if I do that, we will be no better than them. No, we take the city, end the Thalmor once and for all, sit down and sign a fair and just peace agreement, then we go home."

"You sound hopeful, father?"

"I would like the rest of my reign to pass in peace. I want to spend the rest of my life at the palace with my wife, or travelling the Empire, meeting my people. When you become Emperor, son, it will be your job to keep the Empire together. Learn from my examples and I'm sure you'll be just fine."

"Son of the Dovahkiin, how would you like to see the world as a dovah?"

I looked at my father. He simply smiled and nodded. "I would like that very much, Odahviing."

"Excellent. Climb on board and hold on tight. Dovahkiin, do you have any other suggestions?"

"No. Do whatever you think is necessary. Just wait for the horns to blast, then we will join in."

Father embraced me before he mounted his horse and rode back through the men, the cheers echoing far and wide, the men chanting 'Dragonborn' over and over. My father was adored by soldier and civilian alike. He had spent over two decades slowly but surely righting past wrongs. Now he was on the cusp of complete victory. Once I could see him in the distance back in position, a flag was dropped and klaxons blasted across the field. Slowly, Legions began to form up and started to march.

"That's our signal, Odahviing."

"Prepare to be jealous, son of the Dovahkiin. Your father experienced this once. He said he has never forgotten it."

I held on for dear life as Odahviing flapped his wings and we ascended into the air. Over the next however many hours and days, I experienced it over and again as the Legions of the Empire ended the Aldmeri Dominion and peace once again reigned over the Empire and Tamriel.

But I would remember the feeling of flying through the sky on the back of a dragon for the rest of my days.

*****

A/N - All stories must end somewhere so this is the end of the adventures of Ragnar the Dragonborn. I originally uploaded this story to another site a few years back (fan-fiction.net), where it proved popular enough, but figured I'd upload it here for new eyes to see.

Hope you all enjoyed it.