Usurpation
Skyrim, no, even the neighbouring Provinces held their collective breathes as the Dragonborn led his army into Sovngarde to battle the World-Eater. Villages and even the majority of some cities had all of their population praying to their respective gods to see their heroes to victory.
Even bandits and mortal enemies held back their conflicts as they waited to see if the world would come to an end or not...
Thankfully, word came from the Greybeards that the Dragonborn and some survivors had appeared atop the Throat of the World with word that Alduin had been slain.
The Greybeards, despite the great loss of their Master, Paarthurnax, shouted news of the victory to the heavens, rumbling the whole of Skyrim and causing many Couriers to be sent to them.
Surtr left the survivors in High Hrothgar and headed directly for Whiterun, intent on getting black-out drunk and bedding every woman he laid eyes on.
News quickly spread of the victory, allowing most of Tamriel to celebrate, some even creating holidays to commemorate the occasion. Day of the Dragonborn they called it.
It's not long after this however that further news arrived... Information from the survivors detailing exactly what'd happened, the battle against hundreds of dragons and an army of undead, their adventure in Sovngarde, then calling upon past heroes to help in slaying the monstrous dragon.
The fact that many heroes, Ysgramor included had died during this was a big shock, especially since some speculated that it was impossible to die a second time...
There was also mention of Shor's words to Surtr, but none had the balls to ask him about it, especially since the man seemed to unconsciously growl at the mention of any gods at all.
Skyrim was also made aware that Michael had left just before the group entered Sovngarde, abandoning them to face the World-Eater alone. Combined with Surtr's drunken rambling, Michael had lost most of the goodwill he'd gained during his time in Skyrim, with only those he'd directly met and befriended thinking otherwise.
Michael didn't care at all about this, of course, instead simply taking the time to relax now that most threats had been dealt with. The Tyranny o the Sun, Dragon Crises, and the Daedric Battle Area that he'd been forced to fight in.
For all intents and purposes, Nirn was safe, the Daedra couldn't do anything, Miraak was stuck in Hermaeus Mora's realm, and he'd almost finished his project concerning Clavicus Vile...
The only real problems left were all domestic, the Empire, Thalmor, and other Provinces. Skyrim had kept back most of its regular soldiers, meaning they still had a ground army to use, but they'd almost lost almost all of their specialists and veterans. The Companions were reduced to only Kodlak, Shakeesh, Skjor, and some lesser-known members.
The same could be said for the new College of Winterhold. Half of its number had joined the battle, and basically all of them had perished. This, combined with the massive hit the economy had taken from the massive loss of life had left High King Ulfric in a worried state. Especially when, as soon as Surtr had entered the Blue Palace, he'd declared himself the Emperor of the Empire...
Needless to say, that conversation had gone sour very quickly. Especially when Ulfric revealed some rather damning information...
"W-what do you mean!? Say that again, damn it!" Surtr exclaims as he disrespectfully jabs a finger at Ulfric.
"I said, none of the women you have bedded has gotten pregnant! You know what this means, Dragonborn!" the High King shouts back.
Instantly, Alduin's and the prophecies' words echo in the Dragonborn's head, the Last Dragonborn... His eyes shoot wide as he finally comprehends its meaning, it wasn't just because Akatosh wouldn't create another, but also because he was unable to as well... The gods had made him sterile...
"This... THIS, can not be! You must have made a mistake!" Surtr hurriedly states, finding himself falling into a nearby chair without his say-so, his legs giving out.
"It's true! I've kept a close eye on it ever since you were discovered! Face the truth, Dragonborn!"
"NO! I REFUSE TO ACCEPT THIS!"
"YOU MUST!" Ulfric shouts, standing and locking the man with a glare, "This isn't something that can be changed, Dragonborn, accept it for what it is."
...
Surtr holds his face in his hands, his bloodshot eyes peaking through as they glared at the floor. The gods had slighted him for the last time... "What does this mean for my position?" he asks after taking some time to recompose himself.
...
"Truthfully, Dragonborn, I cannot in good conscience support you to become emperor. The current family might be corrupt to the core, but it has a future, and can be changed. Supporting you would lead to the chaos that'd come about after the death of the last Septim..." Ulfric explains.
...
Surtr stands from his seat, "Hmph, that's funny. Who said you had a choice in the matter." he growls.
Ulfric crooks a brow and rests a hand on his leg, ready to draw his blade, "I'm not sure I understand you, Dragonborn..."
"Let me put it in plain terms then... You. Will. Support. My. Rise."
...
The two glare at one another for a moment when Ulfric makes the first move, "GUARDS! FUS RO-"
"FUS!" Surtr shouts at the same time as Ulfric, his single word beating the High King's two with monumental ease. The force crashes into Ulfric, sending him through the stone throne and spinning into the wall behind it.
Guards stream into the hall but Surtr had already drawn both Wuuthrad's and began decimating the pitiful force. It's as if they didn't realise it was him who killed Alduin, HE WAS THE DRAGONBORN, YET THEY STILL FOUGHT!?
"GAAN!" he roars, the purple ripple flowing through those unfortunate enough to be caught, causing them to collapse on the spot as their bodies withered away into husks.