I wrote this a LONG time ago, and just now found it when I was looking through my notes. It's a little different than the stories I normally publish, but I suppose it's a good thing to mix it up every now and then. As always, hope you enjoy, and be sure to leave a vote and comment if you did!

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"Madame Ambassador, our scouts have returned."

"And?"

"Our prison camps in Eastmarch... have all been destroyed."

The woman, normally so elegant and poised, shot from her seat. "What?!" she roared, the very walls of her office trembling in fear. It had been ages since she had raised her voice like this. "How is this possible?!"

"Madame, our scouts reported that the Dragonborn is working with former Stormcloaks. She's started a rebellion of her own."

Now she was fuming with hatred. If her men had done their job fifteen years ago, the Dominion would have one fewer thorn in its side. Since those fools had failed, she had an even bigger problem on her hands.

"We have to find her and put her back in her proper place. If she falls, her following will crumble as well."

"We're not going to find out more about this rebellion first?"

"Let me worry about that. Our biggest concern now is one puny little human."

"Madame, this human is the Dragonborn."

"Do you doubt the strength of the Dominion? We are legion, she is but one. Legends may say she has the soul of a dragon, but her body is still frail. It is but dust. I alone could crush her like an ant beneath a boot."

"Yes, Madame Ambassador. What is your plan?"

Rubbing two fingers to her temple, she sank back into her chair. "Send out a spy to intercept a courier from Falkreath. I shall need you to bring him to me."

"And then?"

"Let me worry about the minutia of this plan. Find me a courier. And make sure no one sees our spy meet with him. We cannot afford to slip up now."

"Yes, Madame Ambassador."

"You're dismissed."

Her underling retreated, leaving her alone to think. The more she thought, she angrier she became. She wanted nothing more than to drag that miserable cur into her office and beat every last piece of information out of her. She could just imagine how satisfying it would be to  knock her off her feet, pull her hair, and show that... disgusting Nord her place. She had to be calm about this, though. She had to think things through rationally. Nothing good ever came from rash decisions and hasty actions. She did not ascend to her position by being reckless and stupid. The Dragonborn's time would come. She was about to fall right into the Thalmor's hands.

And once I have that bitch under my feet, she thought menacingly, I will treat her like the dog she is, and put her down. But not before exhausting all of her uses. Yes....

A crooked smile crossed the elven woman's face, and she allowed herself a short, wicked laugh. Imagine the stories the elves in the Summerset Isles would tell when they caught word of her triumph over the supposed savior of Tamriel. Perhaps then she would be promoted in the Dominion's ranks, and be allowed to leave this godsforsaken spit of land, where the brutes who inhabited it were willing to die for a patch of frozen earth and bitter cold.

There would be a parade in her honor, no doubt. She would be celebrated from one end of Tamriel to the next, as the woman who crushed the famed Dragonborn beneath her boot. Perhaps some would be angry that she has subdued her, but then again, if this human was really as powerful as legends claimed, how could the Dominion break her?

The answer was simple: she was not all that the legends claimed.

Your day is coming, Dragonborn, she thought to herself. You have been a thorn in my side for far too long. I will make you wish that you had died with your parents that night.