It's been a while since I've written a fanfic for anything. I got inspired after replaying Morrowind's main quest, so here is the beginning of my take on what happens to the Nervarine following the events of the game. Please leave any suggestions/encouragement! Thanks!

Prologue

Seran pulled his hood closer to his face as he got off the silt strider and walked toward the bridge. Even though it had been nearly three years since his last visit to the great city of Vivec, he had no doubt that the people of the city would undoubtedly recognize him if they saw his face. After all, everyone knew of the outlander dunmer who had saved them from the wrath of Dagoth Ur. He gave an exasperated sigh as a strong gust of wind blew his hood back for just long enough for a child dressed in rags and playing with a wooden sword to see his face and recognize him. The boy’s eyes lit up in excitement as he ran to get a good look at the living legend that he’d only heard and seen paintings of. Seran had to grin at the youngster’s enthusiasm. He handed the child a drake, and put a finger to his lips. He did not want to attract attention today. The boy nodded and ran off gleefully, clutching the coin as tightly as he could. Seran crossed over the bridge into the city, fought through the bustling crowd, and paid the first gondolier he saw to take him to the temple of High Fane. He got several strange looks, which quickly turned to distressed murmurs, from passing priests as he disembarked from the gondola, walked straight past the temple, and up the stairs to the palace of the god king, Vivec. As Seran neared the door to Vivec’s sanctuary, it unlocked and opened on its own, welcoming him in.

Vivec appeared to be meditating as he floated cross legged in the center of the room. He did not look nearly as majestic as Seran remembered. His face was gaunt and he appeared more tired than Seran could remember ever seeing him. It was also clear that he could no longer hold back Azura’s curse on the chimer. His skin was losing all of the golden hue that he’d preserved and giving in to the ashen color of the dunmer. As Seran approached him, his eyes snapped open as he lowered his legs and dropped down.

“Welcome Nerevar!” Vivec’s voice resounded through the room, “It has been far too long.”

“Frankly, Lord Vivec, I don’t think it’s been long enough,” Seran retorted.

The former god sighed, “I suppose that some grievances take longer than three years to be forgiven. Very well, would you like some sort of nourishment? Ever since you destroyed the heart’s physical connection to this plane and I became mortal, I find myself constantly hungry.”

Seran turned and began walking to the door. “Listen, if you only wanted me to come here to make small talk, then I will be taking my leave. You may be content to give up leadership of Morrowind and live out whatever is left of your life, but I will ensure that she has a strong and prosperous future.”

“No! Please! We were friends once, I only meant…” Vivec shook his head sadly, “Suddenly becoming mortal after thousands of years as an all-powerful deity changes ones perspective.”

“If you want my sympathy…” Seran started in anger.

“No!” Vivec interrupted, “I want sympathy from no one! I made my decisions and now I have to deal with the effects of those. To get to the point, I called you here to inform you that I am leaving Morrowind.”

That surprised Seran. “Why?” he asked.

“I have received a correspondence from Emperor Uriel Septim. He fears that there is trouble brewing to the east, in Akavir. There are rumors of an impending invasion of Tamriel. As Morrowind makes up most of the empire’s eastern border, he felt that I, and by extension, you, should know. I have decided to leave for Akavir in order to deal with this personally.”

“What! That’s insane! There are no mer in Akavir, you would be noticed immediately and the people of Akavir tend to be hostile to anyone from Tamriel.”

Vivec looked wistfully around his throne room, “Believe me, Nerevar, I would much rather live out my life in comfort here. However, this is an opportunity to do more good for Morrowind than I’ve done in a very long time. If one of the Akaviri races is truly planning an attack, Morrowind will likely be the first province to be hit. I want to prevent that.”

Seran threw his hands up in exasperation, “Fine, throw your life away if you want! I will stay here and make sure that we are ready if the Tsaesci or Ka Po’ Tun decide to launch an invasion.”

“Seran,” Vivec said quietly, “I want you to come with me.”

“What!” Seran exclaimed, “If this is more about your changed perspective…”

Vivec smiled grimly, “No, this is not about me. This is about what is best for Morrowind. You and I are relics of Resdayn. Morrowind has no use for us now that Dagoth Ur is dead. We would only cause the people to hold onto the past and not look forward. People see you as a way to break from the Empire and regain Resdayn, especially because of the promises you made to the ashlanders. This would be an enormous mistake. Morrowind’s future lies with the Empire and we do nothing but hold her back from that future. What we can do though, is prevent another disastrous conflict.”

“You’re not thinking straight,” Seran admonished, “If we both leave, any unity that we have achieved will be gone. The great houses and ashlander tribes will be back at each other’s throats within a matter of months. A huge power vacuum will be left!”

Vivec grimaced as if the words left a bad taste in his mouth, “The Empire will fill that vacuum. I have not always supported the Empire and their actions in Morrowind. However, now the imperials are the only unifying factor that prevents the altmer or the argonians from launching an assault on Morrowind. All of our trade and income is tied to the Empire. We would never be able to support ourselves without them. In addition, if Akavir truly launches an attack, then Morrowind will need the empire’s help more than ever. We could never fight back these threats on our own. Morrowind’s fortunes are tied to that of the Empire.”

Seran shook his head in disgust and turned to leave, “I understand now, this is your way out. You want to free yourself of all responsibility so you justify your leaving with a suicidal mission. I’ll have nothing to do with it.”

“I leave in six months Nerevar,” Vivec called as Seran slammed the door, “Take your personal feelings of me out of this. Look at it objectively and you’ll see that I am right. Send me a letter if you change your mind.”

Vivec’s words troubled Seran greater than he’d let on. As he left the city to return to the ashlands, he couldn’t help but wonder if Vivec was right. Was he truly only a relic of a past time? This question troubled him that night and every night after that as he lay down to sleep. Four months passed and he still did not have an answer. It was at this time that Seran traveled to the Urshilaku camp in order to help secure a trade agreement between the Urshilaku and Hlaalu.

Upon arriving at the camp, Seran paid his respects to the wise woman, Nibani Maesa, and then went to speak with the Ashkhan. As he approached the yurt he heard excited conversation coming from inside. He pulled back the flap that covered the entrance and was surprised to see the Ashkhan, Sul-Matuul, and his gulakhans standing around a table covered in maps. Sul-Matuul’s face lit up when he saw Seran.

“My friend!” Sul-matuul exclaimed, “You come at a perfect time! We were just discussing the best places to strike once we begin our campaign to drive the n’wah imperials from our home!” He turned to his gulakhans, “Leave us for now. We will continue this discussion later. Nerevarine, come and look at our plans!”

Seran walked slowly over to the maps. He saw that they planned to strike outlying settlements such as Dagon Fel first in order to slow supply chains and then slowly work their way farther south towards Ebonheart. Troubled, Seran asked, “Why have you begun planning this? I don’t recall giving such an order.”

“No,” Sul-Matuul replied, “but enough time has passed that the clans are becoming anxious. You swore to lead us against the imperials and now that Dagoth Ur has fallen, the Velothi are ready to follow you to reclaim Resdayn from these scum.”

“Oh, of course,” Seran stammered. He had not realized how insistent the ashlanders would be about fighting the empire.

Oblivious to Seran’s discomfort, Sul-Matuul proceeded to spend several hours discussing his battle plans and the glories Morrowind would achieve once freed from the influence of the Empire. Following this discussion, the ashlanders prepared a large meal for Seran and erected a yurt for him to sleep in. All thoughts of the trade agreement had been forgotten by the time Seran laid down on the bed roll. He closed his eyes and had a dream more lucid than any since his final night aboard the prison ship that brought him to Morrowind. He saw Vvardenfell in ruins, the imperial settlements and forts all abandoned. He witnessed a horde of argonians ransacking the land, unopposed except by the occasional group of soldiers from a great house. He heard the pained cries of thousands of dying dunmer. Then he awoke in a cold sweat. Seran rolled over and lit a candle. Then, pulling out some parchment and a quill, he began to write a letter.