(AN: Welcome again to the next chapter of my Elder Scrolls fanon: the Dragon of the South. This is part of the main story, or at least that part belonging to Servius Crixus. Yes, the anti-hero of The Dragonborn and the Lioness and The Dragon and the Bear is now our main character here. No i won't go for misunderstood villain, because that trope has been done to death. All i can say, regarding what we have seen in the stories thus far, is that Crixus is like Quorthon of Bathory: notorious for giving false information to gauge the reaction of those around him. Anything else about him will be learned in this story. It is rated M obviously for language [no duh] as well as violence, suggestive themes and...well, you know. Themes and character development also being considered as well.)

(Initially, there was supposed to be a cut-away chapter at the beginning in the Bee and Barb, but that was lost when my laptop died, and as there was no back-up, i decided to just tell the story straight from the beginning. Enjoy)

An Audience with the Emperor

He slowly opened his eyes, finding himself in a dimly lit room of stone bricks. He never remembered Colovian brandy having such a kick before, and if anyone could accurately describe its affects on humans, it would be Servius Crixus. Ever since the Battle of Red Dog Pass, he wanted to bury all that had happened in as much wine and brandy as he could afford. That, of course, led him to the Newland Hall in Cheydinhal. It was away from his post, but Pectis, his secretary, could manage the post for a few days if he needed to get away. Of course, the Newland Hall - renamed from the Newland's Lodge, which, along with the Cheydinhal Bridge Inn, had been burned during the Great War - was a little slice of Morrowind, being owned, operated and frequented by numerous Dunmer.

But whether the Dunmer inn-keeper had poisoned his brandy was far from Crixus' mind, as he saw before him the dark red cloaks of none other than the Penitus Oculatus, the personal guards of the Emperor himself. His heart shook within him, as he had heard - as anyone in Cyrodiil - the stories of the fabled Hero of Daggerfall meeting Emperor Uriel Septim VII secretly at night. While those were better times, he felt no less moved by the magnanimity of what the presence of the Pentius Oculatus must surely mean.

Looking about, Crixus saw that he was sitting in a chair at a table with his hands bound at the back. Everything had been stripped from him save for his clothes, and the Penitus Oculatus guards were walking about, keeping Crixus under their watchful gaze. Before him, across the table, was a man wearing a black cloak with the hood thrown down over his face. A narrow, white beard jutted out from the folds of the hood, but there was no other indication of who this person was, only that it had to be either a man or a Khajiit.

"Why am I here?" Crixus asked in a typical Colovian drawl. "Who are you?"

The figure lifted up old, gnarled hands and pushed back the hood. Crixus gasped before the visage of the Emperor, Titus Mede II. He was bald and wore a narrow beard and mustache upon his face. He did not wear many jewels or even a circlet about his head, but the grim expression on his face and the depth of his blue eyes told Crixus that this man was none to be trifled with.

"I wanted to meet the fabled hero of the Battle of Red Dog Pass," the Emperor said.

"Not much to see, is there?" Crixus asked.

"Insolent dog!" one of the guards shouted, raising a fist down and striking Crixus on the back of his head.

"That's enough, soldier!" the Emperor reprimanded, then turned back to Crixus. "I do not wish this to be a disagreeable meeting. I trust you will forgive my...unorthodox attempt to elicit conversation. Ever since that battle, you have been a high priority target for many important and powerful parties."

"Is that why I was put in a dead-end post in the shite-hole of Morrowind?" Crixus asked. "Some hero's thanks."

"You must understand," the Emperor continued. "Your company had been cut off from communication with the Imperial City, you did not know of the White-Gold Concordant and we did not know that your company was still alive and fighting."

"Aye, forgotten," Crixus nodded.

"Your Emperor has not forgotten you," Titus replied. "And he requires your service."

"I'm done with serving the Empire," Crixus groaned. "It's been almost twenty-three years since Red Dog Pass, and all of that time I've been busy enjoying the compensation I received for the loss of too many good men: a post in Morrowind that might as well be a prison sentence. I didn't ask to be dragged here, wherever I'm at, and I didn't ask to be cut off from all knowledge of what was going on beyond the Wrothgarian Mountains."

"But now you will be asked to do your duty for the Empire," Titus replied, seeming to ignore what Crixus had said. "You may accept or refuse at your leisure, but I feel that I should remind you that if you refuse, your life will go on as it has for the past twenty-three years. You will return to 'that shit-hole' Morrowind and continue with your given post, having forgotten that this meeting ever took place. Now, do I have your attention?"

Crixus nodded wordlessly.

"Then let me speak of what you must do," Titus began. "As I'm sure you've heard, on the ninth day of Morning Star, Torygg the High King of Skyrim was murdered by the Jarl of Windhelm."

"Damn drunken Nords," Crixus sneered. "You brought me out here to punish a dumb brute for killing his dumb brute king?"

"This dumb brute, as you called him," Titus retorted. "Is none other than Ulfric Stormcloak."

Crixus became suddenly aware. The name of Ulfric Stormcloak was burned into his mind, and it was not merely for being one of the few to escape capture from the hands of the Aldmeri Dominion. It was for his other deeds which gave Crixus pause.

"The Bear of Markarth," he mused.

"He has a large following in Skyrim," Titus continued. "Within a few short weeks of his murder of the High King, a following of rebels rose up from out of the populace of Skyrim, supporting Ulfric Stormcloak's desire to usurp the Throne of Skyrim into his hands."

"Rebels deserve to die a traitor's death," Crixus stated.

"The situation is more difficult than just that," the Emperor continued. "Many of the people of Skyrim, while not openly sided with Ulfric Stormcloak and the rebels, have offered him aid in secret."

"So you want me to kill this rebel leader, then?" Crixus asked. "That sounds simple enough."

"But it's not that simple, my friend," Titus stated. "Aside from merely taking the Throne of Skyrim for his own, Ulfric Stormcloak has publicly proclaimed that, if made High King of Skyrim, he will dissolve the White-Gold Concordant and permit free worship of Talos."

Crixus spat upon the ground, the very name of Talos fermenting in his ears and vile to his mouth even to whisper a curse at him.

"The Thalmor ambassador has...requested that, under the terms of the White-Gold Concordant," the Emperor continued. "She has the legal right to field agents in Skyrim to subdue the rebels and uphold the terms." He exchanged looks with his guards, then leaned in towards Crixus.

"While most of the people of Cyrodiil might not think so," he whispered. "There are some who are aware of the Thalmor's motives. The Empire has not fully recovered from the War, even after almost twenty-six years. While the Thalmor have not been openly involved in Tamriel prior to the Markarth Incident, I'm sure that they have been secretly working from behind the scenes to keep the Empire from attaining a place of power."

"I don't honestly believe they have that kind of power," Crixus stated.

"Open your eyes!" the Emperor insisted. "Surely you have noticed how things in Cyrodiil have been, even as far away as Morrowind. Trouble on the roads with resupplying the Empire with weapons, the stone quarries at Bruma shutting down, and now this rebellion in Skyrim!"

"I've heard about bandits on the roads of Cyrodiil," Crixus stated. "And there were rumors about a group of militant Nords called the 'Sons of Skyrim' who have been causing trouble in Bruma, but I don't see how those are related, and if related in any way, hardly to the Dominion."

"You remember how the war began," Titus sighed. "How the Thalmor ambassador dumped at my feet the heads of all the Blades. They won't wait until they've declared war on us again to weaken our infrastructure, they will do so in the meanwhile, making us so much more an easy conquest. This is why I need you."

"Me?" Crixus asked. He was now genuinely surprised, for while he had assumed that he understood the Emperor's suggestion from the beginning, this revelation was more than he could believe.

"Listen to me, Crixus," Titus continued. "I am entrusting you with a mission of the utmost secrecy. You are to go to Skyrim and present yourself to Elenwen, the Thalmor ambassador and heiress to Lord Naarifin."

"Wait a moment," Crixus interjected. "First you tell me of your fears that the Thalmor are secretly undermining the restoration of the Empire, and now you ask me to work for them?"

"Only on the surface," the Emperor repleid. "Your true purpose is to uncover their activities, both in Skyrim and other parts of Tamriel. They might smile in the streets at us as we pass them by, but their 'First War with the Empire' is reason enough to fear what might come from Alinor. I want you to find what they are doing and put an end to it."

Crixus paused, thinking back on what had happened those ninety days in the freezing cold Wrothgarian Mountains. While his troop had been trapped there for three years, without sufficient supplies to make the journey back to Hammerfell, High Rock or Skyrim - what with the mountain-passes opening and closing by avalanche without warning and constant sabotage from the Dominion - the last ninety days of fighting had made him a hard man. Seeing his men die off one by one, by exposure, wild animals and Dominion weapons and magicka, drove him not only to hate war but to hate the Altmer.

"I presume I'll be going to Skyrim alone, then?" Crixus asked.

(AN: If any of you have come fresh from reading The Dragon and the Bear or The Dragonborn and the Lioness, you will notice that the story is not beginning where The Dragon and the Bear left off. I'm considering doing this story in two parts so as to not get bogged down with another one hundred plus meandering [especially meandering] story...again! Which ever way i choose it, the second half, which will be set exclusively in Cyrodiil, will pick up where The Dragon and the Bear left off.)

(Some stuff here about Crixus' past, especially the infamous "Red Dog Pass", or Llywyn Pass in the Breton language. The details of that infamous battle and how it affected Crixus have been sprinkled in pieces throughout the past two stories, but now they will be told in full. Also, like with The Dragonborn and the Lioness, I will try to paint a more comprehensive picture of what happens in the story.)