hi friends i return with a really short update because i am hardstuck with where to go with this story and i’ve been sitting on this bit for a long time and yeah here’s this i guess
thank you in advance for reading as always and i really hope you enjoy! :)
Dagon towered over the Imperial City, visible even over the rows of buildings between them and him - and the door to the Temple of the One. She’d known, deep down, that Akatosh had not lied, that they would fight Mehrunes Dagon for Tamriel, but she hadn’t been prepared for the reality of it.
The Prince of Destruction was massive, a blood-red monster with four arms and an axe for each one, cutting mortals and enemy Daedra and even his own out of his path as he stepped closer to the two new Princes. Each footfall made the ground shake, and the tremors only got worse the closer he became.
His face wore an expression of the deepest hatred when he saw them, but Sheogorath told her that was pretty standard for him. “Sheogorath! Sanguine!” Dagon bellowed. “You dare interfere in my plans?”
He hurled a massive axe at them, but before she could even react, a spear was in her hand. Adelaide had no idea what to do with it other than put it in between her and Martin and the axe, but she hadn’t moved before Martin had an elaborately embroidered glove on. He held up the hand with it on, and the axe was deflected from an invisible barrier in front of them. He then made a tossing motion with the same hand, and the axe flung back toward the god from which it had come. (A useful trinket, that glove - Sheogorath wondered if he’d let her borrow it.)
Mehrunes Dagon caught the axe, and there was a moment of tense silence as the three Daedric Princes stared at one another. Finally, Dagon howled with rage, and the battle began in earnest. Adelaide obeyed whichever of Sheogorath’s instincts that told her to point the spear at the ground and summon an atronach - it was massive, perhaps a side product of a Prince using the artifact -, and then raise it to block an incoming strike of one of Dagon’s axes. The Spear of Bitter Mercy shuddered under the impact, but held, and Mehrunes Dagon screamed with anger again. Next to her, Martin wore an expression that looked like horror as he stared at the staff in his hand - the Sanguine Rose.
Her first thought was to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder, but that was very clearly out of the question when any sort of lapse in concentration could cost them their lives and potentially all of Tamriel. Instead, Adelaide swept his feet out from under him as she ducked beneath another swipe of Dagon’s axes, narrowly ensuring that both of their heads remained attached to the rest of them.
This seemed to snap Martin out of his thoughts, and he used the Rose to summon a Dremora, and then more. Without bidding, the Staff of Sheogorath appeared in her hand, and suddenly Adelaide knew what to do.
“Halt!” The Staff screamed in a voice that was all at once hers and Sheogorath’s and Jyggalag’s. All around them, the tides of battle ceased as Daedra and mortal alike were frozen in place by her will.
Mehrunes Dagon strained visibly against her enchantment, and Adelaide knew she had to work quickly - there was no way to tell how long her Voice would hold him in place. With a final glance at her staff - amazing how her entire godhood was contained in a tree branch and a frantically rolling eyeball - it was swapped out for something less gruesome and more recognizable. Gods, she hoped this worked on Daedric Princes, but there was no time to test it. (She also hoped it didn’t backfire horribly, but her chances were good enough for it to be worth the risk.)
Sheogorath pointed the Wabbajack at Mehrunes Dagon and prayed. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, in a cloud of red dust, Dagon disappeared, only to be replaced with a person-sized version of himself as time snapped back into itself and he screamed and charged toward her. Adelaide had barely let her instincts swap the Wabbajack for Jyggalag’s blade in time to block the first of a flurry of strikes the other Prince hurled at her.
Suddenly, it was all she could do to keep backing up as she blocked blow after blow from Dagon’s axes, which almost seemed to be everywhere at once. Adelaide bit her lip harshly as she tried to figure out a plan, but there was nothing she could do while struggling to keep her head on like this.
And even that might not last too much longer, she thought wryly to herself as Dagon trapped the blade of her greatsword between two of his axes and hacked at her now-exposed neck with the other two while she bent backwards out of the way. Thankfully, she didn’t have to worry about her impending decapitation for too much longer.
“Stop.” The command came from Sanguine, who had a glowing, blood-red pendant wrapped around his hand. Adelaide watched in awe as Dagon froze and let his four axes drop, but she could still control her own movements, and wrenched away her sword and herself while she had the chance. Martin turned to her then, and she felt her chest constrict at the hypnotic look in his eyes. “We need to finish this,” he said, and Adelaide wasn’t sure if it was her own instincts or the persuasive powers of the Bloodstone that made her heft the greatsword she’d pried from Jyggalag’s hands and cleave Mehrunes Dagon in two.
