Chapter 1: Departure
Summary:
Surprises, mostly of a bad nature
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Leaving
"No."
A gasp escaped Serana's lips, as well as the lips of a number of other occupants in the chamber. What was the fool of a Dunmer doing? Nobody stood up to her father, Lord Harkon Volkihar, not if they wanted to see the moons rise another night. He killed almost for amusement, and certainly for power, driving fear and compliance into the hearts of those he spared - temporarily. To go against that was lunacy.
She'd thought this woman to be smart, cautious maybe verging on wise; how else to have made it this far in Skyrim, against daedra, dragons and worse? But to reject her father's offer of vampirism without a moment's hesitation was downright madness. She wouldn't reach the door alive, maybe not even the stairs. Was it perhaps not madness then, but something else? Bravery? Stupid Skyrim Nordic pride? Has this little elf woman gone soft in her time in Tamriel's frozen north province?
She couldn't possibly be considering fighting him? The vampires in her father's court outnumbered the Dunmer ten to one, and Serana felt some attachment to the little woman - interest, mild concern, dare she admit it, friendship? - for awakening her in her stone entombment, but that wasn't enough for Serana to defy her father for the foolish woman's protection.
Twice in as many minutes Serana gasped, this time at her father's response to this little elf's reply. Harkon was not going to kill her where she stood for rejection of his offer. Serana could not in all her years remember when he had last shown compassion, if ever. Perhaps it was in some recognition that the woman had succeeded in finding Serana and bringing her home to her father where so many of his minions had failed, their own petty politics getting in the way of the task given to them.
Instead he banished her, rendering her unconscious and deigning a subordinate to carry her limp petite body upstairs to be cast out into the snow and cold. That would surely kill her too, the frigid winds off the Sea of Ghosts cutting through her thin armor like an ebony blade, straight to the very heart of the little Dunmer.
Cursing herself for not acting before, now Serana cursed herself for being unable to act again, the intimidating stare of her father boring into her soul as he turned to her and roughly pulled the Elder Scroll she was carrying from her back, before pushing her into that loathsome creature Vingalmo, directing him to take her to her room while he caressed the scroll now back under his roof with a look verging on ravenous hunger.
"I am sorry, Princess," Vingalmo said, almost with a note of tedious boredom, the insincerity thick in his voice as he forcefully pulled her up the stairs, along the mezzanine balcony behind the court, into her room and roughly pushed her onto her bed, caring not that she tripped and slammed her head into the dresser, pulling the door shut behind him as he left with an even less sincere "Sleep tight!".
"Fuck you," Serana cursed quietly after the door had closed. Her temple was burning where it had struck the dresser. She reached up to touch the spot causing a flash of stinging pain and confirmed her suspicion that the injury had drawn blood.
"Now isn't this a great scene," she muttered to herself at the sight of crimson liquid oozing slowly along on the tips of her slender pale fingers. "Me, repulsed by my own blood. Some vampire. Get it together Serana, you're made of stronger stuff than this."
She pressed her fingers to the spot again to stem the bleeding, wincing and with a sharp intake of breath at the stab of pain, and took a moment to look around her room. She'd not seen this room in many scores of years, but it felt like last week. Everything was where she remembered it, the enchantment table in the corner where she'd been starting to learn enchanting magic, the alchemy workbench to its left where she and her mother had made simple little potions as a child and pretended they were lethal poisons for her enemies.
It was nice to lay on a bed for a change, her bed. She never really had understood the fascination with coffins, especially when they were upright. But, that was tradition. She sighed and rolled over to get a view of the firelight flickering on the ceiling, the dancing glow slowing her thoughts, drifting, drifting...
This was not the welcome home she had been expecting, that much was certain. She'd thought her father might have had an ounce of interest in her return, her well-being or even where she'd been all this time, given how long she'd been away; thousands of years by some reckoning. Time was a bit of an insignificant thing to an immortal, one decade blurring into the ten that followed.
But it appeared her fears had been warranted; her father hadn't even bothered to ask about her time away or how she mysteriously returned suddenly, any of it. Just pulled the scroll from her back and ordered his minion to escort her to her room. He really didn't give a damn about her, that had been plain.
Her thoughts drifted away from her father's reception, teased by the ever-changing light from the fireplace.
Flames terrified and yet mesmerized her, moving like an alive thing, willing her to touch them, warm, oh so deliciously warm... Her hand subconsciously reached out to the dancing light... She watched the flickering play and leap across her fingertips, over her palm, turning her hand this way and that in the glow. Someone she had met recently had liked fire... flashes of fire streamed across her memory, great scaled beasts in the skies, infernos spewing from their gaping maws... roars... air full of heat and sound... massive wings... her hair whipping around her face... fear in her heart.
But someone was there, a small figure, dressed in the armor of a vampire yet not one, a bow in their arms, almost bigger than they were. A woman. She was the one who liked fire, called it from her very soul. A Dunmer.
"Damn it!" Snapping out of her thoughts with wide eyes Serana remembered the woman, now lying in the cold out on the bridge to the castle entrance. Strelka, that's what she had called herself. How - and why - she had gotten mixed up with this seriously fucked up family was a mystery to Serana, but the fact she had gave Serana hope, that there was someone who could take her away from all this, someone who -
"No! You don't have any friends! You're a worthless piece of lonely princess shit," said the voice in her head, her voice, the one that cut so deep, so painfully through armor, flesh and bone to her soul without a drop of blood spilled. "You're good for nothing and good at nothing. You should just die."
But that wasn't true... She knew that now. She had someone, maybe not a friend, not yet, but someone. Strelka was someone, and that was something.
"Fuck you! Shut up!" she said again but this time to her dark voice of self-doubt, before it pushed her into the gloom that so frequently followed its outbursts. And she said it even more forcefully this time, because this time it mattered.
Strelka had talked to her openly and without judgement, listened with interest, treated her like a person, an equal in spite of their differences; Strelka being a Dunmer vampire hunter and Serana a Nord Daughter of Coldharbour, as pure-blooded vampire as they came. She wasn't afraid of nor intimidated by Serana, nor did she seek to make Serana afraid of her. In fact, she was truly interested in the vampire, and by the time they'd reached the castle Serana had found herself beginning to take an interest in the Dunmer too, having met so few new people at the castle and seeing the same faces season after season, era after era. Being immortal did have downsides, but Strelka was something new and interesting.
She lay on her back still staring at the firelight dancing across the walls but her thoughts were elsewhere now, racing, searching possibilities and options. Coming back here had been a mistake, she realized that the moment she'd seen that look of triumph in her father's face when his eyes had met hers and traveled to the scroll she was carrying, his daughter and the thing he coveted back in his clutches.
"Damn it! Why, why did I think he'd change?" she muttered as she sat up, got to her feet and started pacing around the room, the firelight now playing over her cheeks, her armor, her cloak, but forgotten. She'd need to get away, and soon. And probably bring the scroll with her. That was important. Whatever her father wanted it for she was determined to slow him down.
He didn't give a fuck about her, not now. Maybe once, when she was little. But not now, that much Serana knew from those few moments she'd stepped back into the court and seen the hunger in his eyes when they fell on the scroll. Whatever it said it was far more valuable to him than she was.
So fuck him, she'd run away and take her scroll with her. She'd hide, somewhere in Skyrim. It's a big place, there's got to be plenty of places to hide. But she'd need help too. She couldn't fight him on her own.
"Damn it!" she cursed herself this time. "Serana you fool!" She needed Strelka, and Strelka was laying on the bridge freezing to death. She slapped her forehead then cursed again as a jolt of sharp pain reminded her of the cut from the dresser.
"OK think! How are you going to get to Strelka?" she continued pacing and realized she was smelling the scent of something... blood! But not her blood... It must be coming from the court. "Gods, I haven't fed in so long... need some blood, that will help me think. Maybe..." She paced the room a while longer tapping her fingertips against her chin as she thought, and a plan started to form.
Walking to the door she started pounding on it, calling out to get someone's attention.
"Hey! I need to feed! Someone out there, get me some blood or Gods help you, you'll be sorry!" When no one answered right away she started pounding again, hoping it wouldn't take much longer: her fist was starting to hurt.
"Quiet down you little brat!" came the unmistakably scornful voice through the door of one of her father's court, the woman from the smithy, Fura Bloodmouth. "Your father's discussing important matters now that his scroll has been returned to him, no thanks to you and your treacherous mother!"
'His scroll?' Serana thought to herself. 'It's not his, it's fucking mine, the bastard! Gods, he really doesn't give a damn about me! I fucking knew it! I wish I'd known it before I dragged Strelka into this pile of skeever shit. But what are these plans? Why is the scroll so important anyway?'
"Oh, and what might those be?" she replied to the arrogant irritating woman behind the door.
"It doesn't concern you, brat. It's for Lord Harkon and the Prophecy."
"Prophecy? What prophecy?"
"The Tyranny of the Sun you nosy stupid child."
Oh, that prophecy. Serana remembered it now. The one that had driven her parents apart. Her father into the deranged and obsessed madman he had become. Her mother into a distant and fearful paranoid wreck. And Serana to be hidden away from the world, from her life, for thousands of years. That prophecy. The Fucking Family-Wrecker Prophecy. Serana's heart fell. Fura's irritated voice broke into her thoughts.
"Now take this blood potion and shut up!" The door opened and a large oval crimson bottle ornately decorated with gold and gems was shoved across the floor before it slammed shut, the lock clicking back sealing Serana in her room again.
"Fuck you too," she muttered as she uncorked the bottle and pressed it to her lips drinking deeply, her thoughts clearing. "Ahhh, that's that at least" she sighed, after the bottle was drained. "Next, Strelka. Or the scroll, since that's closer. Buuuut.... I've got to get out of here first."
She went back to the dresser next to her bed with the fresh mark of blood on it and pulled open the second draw, revealing some pins and a brush and in the back some lockpicks she'd made at the castle forge one day, since they were simple. She'd used these to get around all the locked doors in the castle numerous times before being sealed away. It was a little secret that only she and her mother knew.
"Ahhh, Mother, where are you now," she wondered as an image of happier times in the castle garden sprang into her mind. "You were right, Father has gotten more than a little drunk on power. Why is my family so fucked up?" Serana sighed, shaking her head.
Returning to the door she bent down to the task at hand, listening first at the keyhole for any sounds of movement outside, before taking the picks and inserting them into the lock carefully. A gentle bit of pressure here, a steady twist there, and her efforts were rewarded with a soft 'click'. The door swung ajar slightly and she slowly eased it open to avoid the telltale creak in the hinges, hearing voices in the court around the hallway corner. Slipping out silently into the hallway she was beginning to close the door behind her, when the gruff voice of Orthjolf caught her attention.
"But Lord Harkon, we do not know the contents of this scroll. How can we use it to bring the prophecy to fruition? And what of the sacrifice of your daughter's blood? She will not give her life willingly."
'What the... ?' Serana's eyes widened as big as dinner plates as she was relocking her door to give the appearance of still being in her room, and she froze, breath stilled in her chest, crouched in the hallway to her room wanting to hear every syllable of her father's response.
"Yes, for the betterment of all creatures of the night, I intend to use Serana's blood, willingly or otherwise to meet our goal, the true domination of mortals of Tamriel. But first we must find out what secrets this scroll holds. The details of the prophecy can now be determined. We will end the Tyranny of the Sun, and soon. But we must know how. Send for a Moth Priest of Cyrodiil immediately. Spin them some tale of an Elder Scroll turning up in some ruins, and that you need their help etc etc."
"At once my Lord."
"In the meantime my daughter is not to know of this. In fact it is best if she not leave her room."
"Well fuck that!" Serana whispered to herself, and pressed herself to the wall to creep closer to the court to see what her father had done with the scroll. "Strelka, I hope you're surviving, because I'm going to need you, friend or otherwise!"
A soft pad-pad and a faint wheezing growl approached, and CuSith, one of the family's many savage, jet black Death-hounds wandered around the corner, saliva mixed with blood constantly dripping from the too-many fangs in his maw.
"Hey boy, how you been?" she whispered to the Death-hound. He didn't bark in recognition of her, just panted, staring at her briefly with his glowing red eyes before plodding back out to the balcony. "Yeah, I never liked you either," she muttered to herself, "but at least you didn't let them know I was here. Good mutt."
Where was that damned scroll? The thing was longer than her leg, and as golden and shining as the sun when light reflected off of it. It had ornate ends and was studded with jewels, but whether they were intrinsic to the scroll itself or just ornamental on the case Serana didn't know. She just knew the Gods-damned thing ought to be sparkling somewhere nearby, almost blindingly compared to the gloom of the rest of the castle, but she couldn't see it anywhere.
'Hmm...' she thought, frowning. 'Father must have taken it to his room...' Glancing warily to her left over the balcony she crept along stooped low and hugging the back wall. Luckily most of the court were turned to listen to her father speaking from the Bloodstone Chalice room, in feigned rapture though she knew half of them would try to kill him in his sleep if they thought they could assume the throne. He had taken to barring the door to his room when alone, to avoid that possibility, but today the door was open as he postured and pontificated his plans to his minions.
"Damn it!" Serana cursed under her breath. The room that lead to her mother's quarters between hers and her father's had caved in. She'd have to go out through the front entrance, which was far less stealthy. There had been a passageway out of that room behind a false bookcase that led eventually out to the southern wall, which had seemed like the perfect path to freedom. Things had just gotten a lot more complicated, not to mention dangerous.
Slipping into her father's room out of sight of the main court Serana began searching feverishly. She didn't know how long she had and didn't want to waste a second of it; if she was caught it would be much more difficult to escape a second time.
"Gods this place is disgusting!" she muttered to herself, eyeing the cobwebs and ruined books scattered about, the spattered blood and entrails on the floor, some dried, some fresh. "What in Nirn have you been doing all this time, Father? This place is a pit! We're fucking royalty! The skeevers in the dungeons are cleaner than this!"
The scroll was not visible in the main chamber, so she moved quickly to his sleeping chamber in the back, a lone coffin - upright of course - against the far wall. And there was the scroll, faintly glimmering in the low light.
"Hello again," she whispered to the scroll, smiling in relief as she ran her hands along its smooth golden metal, before slipping it under her cloak. "To think I spent a thousand years with you pressed into my back, and now I want you back there again... I really am losing my mind!" The scroll not only shone with reflected radiance in even the faintest light, but it gave off a small amount of heat that permeated her tunic, comforting in its familiarity. This calmed Serana's nerves slightly, bringing her edge of anxiety down just a little.
She almost ran out of the room in her haste to continue, but remembered at the last moment to keep herself hidden, and crouched before passing through the doorway. Not a moment too soon. Harkon had entered, followed by Rargall Thrallmaster. Serana backed up so she was hidden behind the door frame.
The men were talking castle matters, the state of the cattle - mortals kept in the dungeons for feeding, in a docile state of compliant stupor; the ever present conflict and rivalry between Ortholf and Vingalmo; Hestla and Fura's bickering about the smithy.
Serana sighed silently and slumped against the wall. This could take a while. Rargall was babbling on about raids to the mainland to get more cattle, which reminded Serana she'd also need to get there herself across the channel.
She could take the rowboat that was usually moored here, but Strelka may have used that herself to return. Worst case, Serana would have to swim for it, which she wasn't looking forward to. The water's cold didn't bother her but the effort would be exhausting, on little blood and with the Elder Scroll on her back. She sighed again and turned her attention back to the discussion in the next room.
"...there were more but we were able to defeat them. One of the Dawnguard scum revealed the location of their fortress before I broke him. East of Riften, in the mountains. Their forces are weak right now my Lord, scattered and untrained." Rargall laughed callously. "Mere farmhands, most of them. We should strike soon, crush the air from their throats before they take their first breath as warriors."
"Agreed, Rargall. Arrange for it immediately. I must attend Molag Bal in the cathedral, to gain more insight on our next steps in the prophecy."
"At once, my Lord." The sound of boots on the stone floor receding from the next room was welcome to Serana's ears. She couldn't stay hidden here for much longer.
'Dawnguard...' she pondered, getting to her feet. 'Wasn't that the group Strelka said she was with? She mentioned someone at one point, their leader... What was his name... Isran? Yes! Isran... Not fond of vampires... Might be the only way I can reach Strelka though. That's probably the place I should look for her. Gods, I hope she made it off the bridge. Luckily there's nothing out there except the bonehawks and the wind, but that will be bad enough...'
The silence in the next room caught Serana's attention and she slowly leaned around the door frame, eyes scanning the room. No one was seated at the chairs before the fireplace, nor standing on the lower level near them. She chanced a further glance around to her left and relaxed when that also turned out to be empty, her father's writing desk unoccupied.
Slowly letting out the breath she'd been holding for too long, the tension eased on her face and she rubbed her temples to try to relax and focus on the next step. It was difficult to know how to proceed; she was making this up as she went.
Slipping over to the door out to the court mezzanine she went over her options. She'd need to get past the door to the cathedral - an involuntary tremor of revulsion shook her body, the memories of the ritual in that place flashing by in her mind. The sudden nausea rising in her belly caused her to close her eyes and lean against the wall to steady herself. She could hear the screaming, her own screaming, feel the pain again, her sex, her hips, her whole body on fire...
"Gods, I need to get out of here!"
Taking a deep breath, opening her eyes again she clenched fists, nails digging into her palms, the pain clearing her mind and bringing her back to the present. 'OK, need to get by that, probably should slip through the sleeping quarters, they're likely deserted right now.'
Staying in the shadows as much as possible Serana eased herself back out into the mezzanine, ears alert and eyes scanning left and right for movement. Crossing towards the hall to the sleeping quarters she tried not to look at the cathedral portcullis, but still it pulled her eyes in its direction and she had to pause and squeeze them shut till the shudder passed through her.
The members of the court were now somewhat dispersed after her father's announcement, and idly wandering around the room. Fura and Hestla could be heard from the smithy having a heated discussion about Iron versus steel, and not far from where Serana crouched she could also hear Feran Sadri explaining to his apprentice Ronthil the correct way to make a potion of paralysis.
Serana smirked to herself and almost snorted out loud with laughter to hear these amateurs discussing alchemy; even she knew more about poisons and potions than both of them combined. But then she had been taught by her mother, perhaps the most accomplished master of the alchemical arts in all of Skyrim, so perhaps it wasn't a fair comparison.
Cautiously peering slowly around the corner into the court she saw that no one was currently looking in her direction, and took the opportunity to slip across the hall and down into the sleeping quarters, a room with a half dozen coffins up against the walls and one on the floor for Vingalmo. In some ways she pitied the court members all having to share this space while she had a whole room to herself, and a large one at that. But that was their problem. It occurred to her that if Strelka had accepted her father's offer to become a Vampire Lord, the Dunmer woman would have also had a coffin here. Serana mused that she might have let Strelka sleep in a coffin in her room to keep her away from this bunch of back-stabbing cutthroats, maybe even in the bed... while Serana was in it...
'Oh!' she shook her head, wide-eyed and shocked at herself for the idea that had crept into her head. "That's quite enough of that! No fantasies, you hardly know the woman!" Still, she was attractive, that lithe strong little frame, the delicious warmth radiating from her... Serana smiled and allowed her mind to wander just a tantalizing moment longer before shaking the image from her head and focusing on the hallway out of the room. It turned a corner and joined Feran's alchemy laboratory.
"Damn," she muttered. "Where am I going to hide till they've gone to sleep?" And then it became obvious, right behind the door in front of her. There was just enough space to squeeze in behind the door. No one would see her coming from the court, though if they came the other way... Well, she'd just have to chance it, there wasn't a better option.
She silently slipped in behind the door, flattened herself against the wall, and waited. The chatter in the court continued for what seemed like an eternity, along with the lower members gorging themselves on some unfortunate cattle. Serana was glad she'd managed to get that blood potion from Fura, or she'd have abandoned this plan of escape just to get some fresh blood herself.
Her thoughts turned to what she'd do for blood once out of the castle. Outright feeding would not be wise; the clans would be looking for her, at her father's orders. Knowing there was a vampire from another clan moving through their territory would raise the alarm and her father would be after her in no time. At a pinch she could use her power of vampire's seduction, if the victim could be drawn away from others so as to not cause retaliation for her attack. That would have to do, along with feeding on animals, but they were a last resort. She hated hurting animals, though bears, wolves and trolls were an exception.
Louder chatter in the room beyond pulled her attention back to the present. Feran and Ronthil had brought their discussion into the laboratory and up the stairs. Good, that meant they were probably headed for the coffins to sleep. Sounds of chairs being pushed back and boots hitting the cobblestone floor told Serana the others were also retiring for the day. Perfect. She listened till the sounds of movement had died down for a good fifteen minutes before she started to move, then a low voice not two feet away caused her to freeze.
"One of these days Orthjolf is going to find his cattle poisoned..." came the unmistakable muttering of Vingalmo. "Yes... he might not be able to catch Ataxia, but I'm sure I can find something to, shall we say, 'upset his delicate constitution'... Some Jarrin root perhaps. I will have to ask Feran if he can lay his hands on some..." The vampire strode almost noiselessly past Serana towards the sleeping quarters. She had ceased breathing, the shock of so narrowly missing almost being discovered still gripping her chest in an iron fist.
She let her breath out very slowly after waiting a full minute beyond when Vingalmo turned the corner, and cautiously lowered the hand she'd been about to move the door with.
'Gods, that was close! I can't believe he didn't sense me. Must have gotten soft holed up in the castle all this time... That settles it. If I side with this lot against my father I'll have to watch my back constantly. At least if I side with Strelka, she'll be watching my back at least some of the time. And I can watch her back...' Another thought snuck into Serana's mind and she blushed in the darkened corridor, a little smile on her lips. 'Get your head out of the ditch! You're escaping, remember!'
Shaking the pleasing little thought away and moving with the careful stealth of a Sabercat, Serana eased herself around the door and through the alchemy laboratory, ears perked for any other unwanted surprises. Luckily there were none, and the main court was deserted. She still moved slowly and in the shadows however; the chance someone might be glancing her way was too risky to ignore.
She had always been stealthy, ever since she was little. Her mother had always said that "children should be 'seen and not heard', but it is better to 'see and not be seen nor heard', in my opinion", and Serana agreed with her. Secrets that weren't meant to be known could be a powerful weapon, and also a good defense; "fore-warned is fore-armed," as her mother also used to say.
'Well, that has certainly paid off today, Mother! Thank you!' she thought to herself as she sidled up the stairs to the entryway to the keep, hood drawn to further hide her pale face from casual eyes, though the court was indeed deserted now. 'Father wants my blood - and plenty of it by the sound of it - for his little plan. And I'm going to make sure he doesn't get a single drop.' With that she quietly opened the door out of the keep and slipped outside into the cold light of dawn.
The winds from the west over the Sea of Ghosts were steady and cold, and had the tang of sea-salt and ocean about them, from the sprays of water flung up into the air near the jetty ahead. The sky was clear, stars twinkling against a dark purple further west that melted into pinkish blue overhead and pale gold to the east. Low cloud obscured the peaks of Skyrim to the south, suggesting snow.
The bridge before her was empty, save for the four crouching gargoyle sentinels, warning away idle trespassers and ready to spring into action to defend the castle if necessary. There was no sign of a body, no dead little Dunmer being slowly dissected by the ever-present bonehawks. In fact, there were instead a few dead bonehawk bodies, stripped of feathers, claws and heads.
"Huh," muttered Serana to herself approvingly. "Didn't expect to see that when I got out here! You're just full of surprises, Strelka!" The Dunmer had mentioned that she worked with jewelry, amulets and the like, for enchanting. Perhaps that was the fate that awaited these slain creatures.
There was still a rowboat at the pier, and Serana remembered there were two, that they'd come here on the one from the mainland. That was likely the one Strelka had returned on, leaving the castle one still moored here. By taking that one to the mainland herself, Serana would further delay her father's attempts to recapture her. Things were looking better and better!
She climbed into the boat and unhitched it from the mooring, taking the oars and steering the little boat for the abandoned prison on the mainland, near the other jetty. The stiff cold breeze across the ocean was as invigorating as it was a nuisance. She had to row far to the right of the jetty into the wind because it pushed her eastwards away from there, but she made good progress nonetheless and was glad to be back on solid ground, her arms tired from the effort.
A euphoric excitement came over her as she looked up to the cloud-shrouded mountains before her. To be free, on the mainland, by herself, making her own adventure! This was exciting, and she couldn't help the giddy grin that came over her as she set off along the coast eastwards to the path she had come down with Strelka just a few hours ago. They'd reached the castle just after sundown, and now Serana was retracing their path with determination and excitement as the sky brightened with the rising sun.
She'd forgotten how far they'd descended down the mountains, and her euphoria quickly turned to exasperation climbing up the path. By the time she reached the road along the summit she was quite exhausted and out of breath.
"By the Gods, Serana! Girl, you are out of shape!" she wheezed to herself after the fourth pause to gasp for air. The road was a whole lot steeper when you were going up, or at least it felt that way, and being around the castle her entire life - except for the crypt - she was not exactly ready for rigorous outdoor activities, especially on a mostly empty stomach.
The weather had closed in as well and as she sat there on the rock overlooking the ocean and the castle a light dusting of snow started to build on her arms. Brushing it off was not very effective; a new layer started to form immediately. The snow was picking up and before long she was in a blizzard, barely able to see the road more than thirty feet ahead.
She sighed and got to her feet, shaking and dusting the snow from her cloak and black leather trousers and continued eastward along the road. She didn't even turn back to look when she rounded a bend and the castle dropped from view behind her. There wouldn't have been much to see in the swirling blizzard she was now immersed in, just some small figures scrambling around on the bridge hunting for an Elder Scroll, a princess and a rowboat.
Notes:
I hope you're enjoying it so far!
I took some liberties with how much Harkon knows about the prophecy, figuring Molag Bal is feeding him info, just not details. Sort of similar to how Valerica knows a significant amount about it without (apparently) having read the scrolls herself.
Not sure when the next installment will come out; possibly a few weeks, if I don't get distracted XD
Chapter 2: Journey
Summary:
"What's a pretty thing like you doing wandering the pass alone in the dark?"
Serana continues her travels, facing dangers and new encounters along the way.
Notes:
WARNING: some violence, might be some trigger scenes for some folks after she passes through Helgen.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The flakes swirled in the air, endlessly streaming from the southwest in the wind. On their way to the castle over the past few days Strelka had pointed out the rock piles near the road, when they couldn't see the path for fallen snow.
"These things," she'd said, "these cairns, they're markers showing where the path goes. Almost every road I've been on in Skyrim has them, so even if the snow is up to your waist, you'll be able to find your way. Though you better hope the snow isn't up to your waist."
"Oh? Why's that?" Serana had replied.
"Because it's impossible to move through, at least on foot. You'd have bigger problems to worry about than losing your way. Exhaustion for one thing. Freezing to death for another, although I don't suppose that would affect you as badly as me."
"Hmmm, yes, I could see how that would be a problem for you. Thank you for the guidance."
"Always and forever," replied the elf.
It was a curious saying, 'Always and forever', Serana thought, and one her liberator and guide used a lot. It was not something Serana had heard from the other Dunmer she knew at the castle, nor had she heard anyone else speak it on their return journey back there. It seemed to be a uniquely Strelka thing.
The elf had an air of determination about her, very dedicated to the task once she put her mind to something, not stopping till it was done even if that meant skipping meals or sleep. Serana had needed to swallow her royal pride and get to work when they left the crypt; Strelka made no effort to pander to the princess' usual tricks to get people to do things for her.
Perhaps that's what she liked about Strelka; the woman treated Serana like someone who could take care of their own affairs, and so Serana had been forced to step up and actually do that. Strelka would fight for her and with her, but not do everything for the princess, which Serana found to be refreshing; it meant she was learning new things all the time. Like the purpose of the markers, and how to find her way around Skyrim.
There was another cairn up ahead and a signpost pointing down the mountain to the far south-eastern side. Serana remembered passing this the previous day, She turned toward the downhill road and had descended a dozen paces before a voice up the rise to her left made her jump out of her skin in surprise.
She'd forgotten to be cautious now she was on the mainland, and the voice's owner was downwind so she hadn't smelled their scent, the scent of fresh blood in their words. In spite of her Nord blood, Serana froze, mostly in fear, before turning slowly to the source of the sound.
"Who's there?" she called, with more courage than she felt, the boldness in her voice bolstering her own resolve. "Show yourself!"
"I said, 'Hello!' " a small Nord girl in a red dress greeted her, walking out of the swirling snow, and Serana relaxed, lowering her raised hands with their spells buidling. It was that vampire girl they met on the way to Solitude, what was her name again? She wracked her mind for the memory. Babette? Yes! That's what Strelka had called her. Serana smiled and greeted the girl, hiding her hands and the lightning she had been summoning behind her back.
"Hello again! You remember me?"
"Yes, you're Listener's friend. What's your name?"
Serana wasn't entirely sure if it was wise to give up this information. She didn't know where the girl's affiliations lay, whether word of her travels would get back to her father. But figuring it was just as telling to meet a vampire who wouldn't disclose their name, Serana shrugged and decided to earn the girl's trust. If they knew Strelka perhaps they shared a similar set of values.
"I'm known as Serana. You're Babette, right?"
"Yes that's right," she said with a chuckle.
"What's so funny?"
"Well, few adults get to learn my name. They often don't last that long after we meet."
"Oh! Do you meet many adults?"
"Usually just those my contracts are for. But occasionally I'll go for a walk and meet others around Skyrim. Like this fellow. Poor stupid Bosmer." She pointed to the lumpy form of a body partly buried in the snow behind her. She mocked her act for Serana, causing the older vampire to chuckle. She liked this girl!
"Oh please, help me! My parents were killed by vampires!" Babette laughed at how gullible adults often were. " 'Oh you poor dear,' they say, and then it's too late. Haha!"
"Wait, you wander the wilds of Skyrim on your own?" Serana said with surprise.
"Why shouldn't I? Listener and I and the rest of our little family are... well... we can take care of ourselves. I'm guessing you can too; most of our kind can."
"But what about trolls and Sabercats?" Serana asked, curious. She couldn't believe this girl traveled around Skyrim without something attacking her, wearing no armor or visible weapons to defend herself. Even if she was older than she looked. Maybe that was the point; she'd lasted that long in a child's body, she must know what she's doing. Serana herself had seen wolves, trolls, horkers and even an ice wraith just coming up the mountainside from the castle, and she knew there were many other creatures out there all over the countryside from the journey with Strelka.
"It's much harder to fool a Sabercat. They're not persuaded by my 'poor innocent child' act. But I can smell them, and will go a different way if I have to. Or find some idiot like this one to protect me, till I turn them into breakfast, haha! Speaking of traveling, I should probably be getting back to the sanctuary before the sun comes up. Where are you going to? You were with Listener yesterday."
"We... she..." A shudder hit Serana as a memory of Strelka facing down her father last night passed through her mind. She closed her eyes and shook it away. "We got separated. She had some things to do. I'm trying to get back to her, but I need to get to Riften I think. Do you know the way?"
"Yes, pretty much take this road south or east. You'll get there eventually. You can walk with me if you want, at least to Dragon Bridge before I'll head north. You should be able to find your way from there. You want to come along?"
Serana considered her options. She only had a vague idea of where she was going, and didn't know how to get there. Trying to do it by herself would take forever; she'd likely get lost and die to a bear or bandit attack on her own. Traveling with Babette who knew her way and how to handle herself in the wilds seemed like a good idea.
"If that's alright with you, I'd like that, yes," she replied.
"Let's get going then. This snow is annoying." The girl started walking down the hill, and Serana fell into stride beside her.
"Thank you Babette," Serana said, smiling.
"Mmm-hmmm. I figure if you're Listener's friend you must be OK, and I wouldn't want her to hear that I didn't help you. Besides, it'll mean less questions when we reach Dragon Bridge."
Serana wasn't used to people offering to help her of their own free will. It felt nice, and she had a strange warmth in her chest that she realized must have been gratitude. An unusual but pleasant feeling she decided she wanted more of.
"How long have you known Strel-...I mean, Listener?" she asked the younger vampire as they approached the road from Solitude to Dragon Bridge.
"Oh, not long. She's new. But she's OK. Good at her contracts. Doesn't disappoint the clients. That's important! Otherwise they might choose a different service, like the Morag Tong from Morrowind. I hear the Morag Tong have been hassling Listener in Solstheim. I don't think they're very good, since Listener is still here, though we don't see her around the sanctuary much anymore. Nazir keeps complaining that she's not doing as many contracts as she used to, and we're really busy now. I guess she's off doing other things."
'Practicing her craft by hunting vampires' Serana thought to herself with a sobering shudder. Odd that Strelka knew a vampire, worked with them even, and hadn't killed them. 'And she didn't kill me, or even try to fight me... She's a complex woman, for sure... More to her than meets the eye...' She returned from her thoughts to their conversation.
"Yes, it seems she is. That's how she found me. So, I'm curious. You and I, we're, well, you know. How do you get about without people noticing? Your eyes seem... different. Is that part of the trick?"
"Oh! Yes. It helps when I have to find a mark in a city, hides me from the guards' ever-watching eyes. I just look like another kid, as long as they don't look too closely. I could show you how to do it if you like. Though I'm not sure you should..."
"Oh? And why is that?"
"Your eyes are so pretty. It would be a shame to change them to be like mine. I think Listener likes them, and you. She was watching you a lot when we met, and she had a little smile every time she did it. Yes, I definitely think she likes you. Maybe not a lot, but at least a little."
"Oh!" Serana felt her cheeks warming in spite of the snow and wind swirling around them as they descended towards the Karth.
They followed the road down the mountainside, occasionally catching glimpses of the river flowing along the valley floor below, northwards to Solitude. Masser and Secunda were low in the southeast where the sky was clearer and their light danced on the ripples of the river's surface, sparkling in the darkness. Apart from their occasional discussion the sounds around them changed steadily as they descended, insect chirping and an owl's calls audible as they got closer to the river.
"So how did you end up in your... line of work?" Serana asked at one point.
"Oh! Well, being a creature of the night your trade choices are limited. Sure you could try being a blacksmith or something like that, but you're always thirsty, and being around mortals is dangerous. But killing them, well, that's only a little bit more dangerous, and a lot easier than pounding metal all day, or trying to sell cabbages in the marketplace. And it pays well enough."
"When I was turned as a child, the vampire that turned me was hunted by our village, and killed. Because I was now turned the village elders wanted to kill me too, so even though the vampire had turned me and killed my family, I felt closer to him than the people of the village. So I fled. While I was out on the road, I tried to feed on this woman traveller. She caught me before I could, but she didn't kill me. 'Your interests and mine are the same,' she said. 'You need to feed, I need people dead. Come and work for me.' "
"I've been working for her and the Dark Brotherhood ever since. They're my family now. I'm the oldest there, haha. But my appearance is that of the youngest. Someone new would take over every fifty years or so, and they'd be our leader for a while, up until a little time after Listener showed up. It was Listener who killed our most recent leader actually. Oh! Hold on just a moment, I need some of those flowers."
Babette turned towards the mountainside on their right and scrambled over some rocks to reach a little cluster of purple mountainflowers, which she carefully plucked and slipped into the small satchel at her hip.
"Oh!" said Serana with a smile. "You're an alchemist too! It seems I keep running into alchemists everywhere!"
"Yes, I make potions, poisons mainly, for the Brotherhood. They come in useful for some jobs. My favorites are the invisibility ones, though paralysis is good too. Anyway, as I was saying, Listener killed our previous leader. Her name was Astrid. She was good - well, good at being an assassin and a leader anyway. She had put out a contract on herself, and told Listener to take it."
"It was very strange. I think she didn't believe Listener was supposed to be our Listener, but in the end she was wrong, and almost the whole Brotherhood was destroyed in an ambush because of it. And anyway, she had a contract and performed the sacrament, so Listener had to kill her to follow the Brotherhood's code."
"I don't think Listener wanted to. She was very sad that day - we all were, even though she became the new leader - and she left shortly afterwards. I think we'd become her family too. And now the family was torn apart, most of us dead, sister killing sister. We've hardly seen her since. It was just Nazir and me for a while, then Listener came back and helped us rebuild, start over, in Dawnstar. But then she left again. Now I only see her on the road, like when we met yesterday."
"Oh! That's... a lot to digest!" Serana was quiet for some time as they walked, thinking over what Babette had shared. In some ways her own life seemed pale by comparison to those out in the world. Strelka, even Babette, had been having more adventures in a few years than Serana had experienced in her entire life. It underscored just how isolated she had been at the castle. The prophecy for all its dangers and the mess it had made of her family seemed almost comically simple when compared with the complexities others dealt with on a daily basis.
She'd found herself wanting to have found a friend in Strelka just to assuage her loneliness of castle life. And now it seemed this younger vampire was at least accepting of her. She'd gone from no friends to almost two in as many days, and in spite of the circumstances couldn't help but feel good about how events were unfolding for her, and excitement for the next thing to happen.
The women continued south through Dragon Bridge, taking the side road to the bridge to avoid attention, although a guard did watch them curiously as they passed him, but said nothing.
"None of my business," Serana heard him mutter once they were beyond him and about to cross the river. "Just a mysterious woman and her daughter. Out for an evening stroll. At two in the morning. In the wilds of Skyrim. Absolutely none of my business. People do it all the time." She breathed out a sigh of relief. Getting into trouble in a town was the last thing she wanted at the moment.
They crossed the river over the impressive bridge, and as they neared the fork in the road Babette spoke up again.
"Well Serana, it was nice talking to you. If you ever are in Dawnstar cone look for me at the Black Door."
"Thank you Babette! I will do that!"
"Say hi to Listener for me! For all of us! Let her know not to be a stranger!"
With that, she waved and turned to continue walking northeast in the direction of Morthal.
"South and east," Serana said to herself. "OK, south and east."
She set off eastward along the road she was on, but hadn't gotten far when an alarming scent reached her, of death, people and animal. It wasn't a fresh scent; whatever had happened was at least a day old now, but it still made Serana wary. Looking ahead she saw beyond the next bridge a carriage, stationary, no driver visible. A grey humped shape at the front suggested something but it was too distant to make out.
Creeping cautiously across the bridge she came upon the scene - a man and a woman, merchants by their attire, dead in the grass near the driver's seat. A horse also, that explained the misshapen lump she'd seen, its gentle eye staring lifelessly into the sky.
"Poor thing..." Serana knelt to the creature, pitying its fate. Whatever had attacked the wagon had spared nothing, but seemed to have taken nothing also. As she knelt to the horse, Serana noticed an arrow, then some more, lying scattered around on the cobblestone.
They were strange, and looked kind of savage with dual points. Made of some kind of hard bone-like material and smelling of musty, underground places. Serana did not like the look of them at all, and she stood quickly, scanning around the area in case the arrows' owners were still nearby. She hastily hurried on along the road, wanting to get away from that scene, fear in her heart now that she was alone again.
The road followed alongside this smaller river for a while, and on the far bank Serana could see a small camp of tents and a fire. Hunters or fishermen, most likely, living off the land. In the distance on that side of the river she could see a bridge and the road continuing up the hillside. She assumed that was the route she'd need to take.
"More hills," she said with a sigh. "Oh well. Can't be helped I suppose." The burbling of the nearby river and the chorus of insects along its bank were at least a pleasant experience while she was down on the flat part of the valley, so she kept walking on.
Not long after this, a brief gust of wind from the east brought a scent of sweat and dirt and leather and steel, of people and danger. She stopped, in the middle of the road, unsure of her next steps and looked ahead to try to find the source of the smells.
There, on the near horizon, where the road ran into that rocky area. She could see them now, a number of bandits on some kind of structure, quite elaborate for bandits she thought. There were at least three or four, probably more. She didn't want to take them on alone, and decided to leave the road and cross the river here instead. It didn't look too deep or swift, and all her time on the island had made her an excellent swimmer, since there was little else to do there.
The river water was cold, but not half as cold as the Sea of Ghosts. It also wasn't terribly deep, and she ended up just wading across, the deepest part only reaching her waist. This she was glad of, as traveling in wet clothes is never much fun. Turning back once she reached the far shore, she was glad she'd made the decision to ford the river; the bandits' encampment was more visible from here. They had formed a blockade across the road. Travellers would be forced to pass through and be attacked, and have little option but to fight, an option she would take if she had to, but if she could slip by unnoticed, especially a large group like that, then she'd rather take that route.
Turning back to the southern hillside she rejoined the road and walked on up. She was just thinking she could really use a proper feeding soon, when more bandit scent of sweat, leather and iron wafted down the road to her. This time it was indistinct, seemingly coming from both sides of the road at once. She caught sight of a woman, dirty, disheveled and determined, hunter's bow at her back, hiding behind a rock on the right of the road ahead, waiting for something to happen on the other side of the rock.
Ah, an ambush then, the bandits here preferring to lure someone in and rob them and probably toss their body in the river for the slaughterfish to devour.
"Well, they won't take me," Serana muttered to herself. "I still remember how to fight!"
Searching the left side of the road she spotted two more behind another rock, one with another bow, the other hefting a waraxe.
'Hhmmm, maybe I should avoid those ones,' she thought to herself.
Slinking to the right, she cast a spell of vampire's seduction on the unsuspecting bandit woman, causing her eyes to glaze over and stare blankly and unfocused at the rock face in front of her. Serana slipped silently up behind her and bit into her neck, grimacing at the taste of dirt, stale sweat and desperation. In spite of the flavor, fresh warm blood hadn't tasted so good in such a long time, and Serana set about her task with vigor.
Her 'donor' did not cry out, which Serana was thankful for, just stood there in a stupor while the vampire drank her fill. She drew enough to refresh herself, but decided against killing the woman outright; she did not want to leave a trace of her passage through the countryside that her father's minions could follow. After five minutes Serana had drawn enough blood for the woman to faint, and they slumped to the ground unconscious.
"That's my cue to leave," Serana muttered. Nothing worse than your prey waking up mid-meal and realizing what was going on!
Creeping away further to the right, she cast a glance back to make sure she hadn't been noticed, then slipped off along the road west. She knew it was taking her out of her way, but she'd double back shortly and continue beyond the ambush.
This worked mostly, but she stumbled into a sleeping Sabercat that she hadn't smelled, the air still on the hillside, and only a quick jab with her dagger to slit its throat saved her from a messy battle against tooth and claw and primal carnivore. She was lucky she'd just fed on the bandit woman, or the Sabercat probably would have overpowered her instead.
Sitting in the grass next to its cooling body as the blood trickled from its neck, she realized how weary she was. The sky was starting to brighten in the east and looking that way was beginning to hurt her eyes. She needed to rest, but there was no place in sight to do so.
"Damn it," she sighed to no one in particular, "where am I going to sleep?" There was no obvious answer to the question, she knew, but she wished there was anyway. The plains were as wide and open as they were exposed and unforgiving, even here in the low hills. Sighing, she rose to her feet and continued back towards the road.
As the road curved around eastwards the scents and sounds of a village greeted her, dairy cattle and hay, wood smoke from fires, farm hands chattering about the wheat crop this year, noises of chickens squawking as they foraged for breakfast, and the smell of cabbages, ripe in the field. A guard standing by the side of the road greeted her, which gave her a start and she almost attacked him out of shock.
"Hello there miss! What brings you to Rorikstead this fine morning?"
"I, uh, I'm passing through. To Riften. Please, do you know how far it is from here?"
"About two days walk, if you stop for the night in Whiterun or Falkreath. Less if you walk on through them, but you'd be pretty tired when you got there. You could always catch a carriage from Whiterun too..."
"Thank you..." Serana turned back to the road east. Two days! She sighed, her tired feet plodding along one in front of the other of their own accord. At least the road was flatter here. Passing through town she saw the Whiterun plains spread out before her, and stopped for a moment to take it all in.
"Woah!"
Across the valley she saw so many things - a dragon circling the peaks to the north, elk and deer wandering and grazing casually in the grasslands, and was that a giant? Two giants, and a mammoth?! She'd never seen either of these before, just heard of them. Even the dragon was impressive, but she'd seen one of them with Strelka, it had attacked as they were passing Morthal only a few days ago. Was it really just a few days? So much had happened since then.
But there was no sign of another city, which meant Whiterun was even further away. How big was Skyrim? She supposed it must be pretty spread out if she could look this far across a valley and know that it had to go on beyond, at least another two days walk. And she'd already traveled for a full day since leaving the castle. Some folks thought vampires didn't need to sleep, but right now she could have slept for a week. Ironic given that she'd just woken up from a few thousand years of it.
"Well, Riften's not getting any closer. At least I had that feeding recently."
With that, she started off along the road into the rising sun, cursing at its brightness.
"I can see why Father wants to end your tyranny!" she said with a scowl at it, and pulled her hood down closer to cover her face.
The rest of the day through the valley was uneventful, just long. She began to measure progress by the next turn, the next hilly mound or scrubby bush or patch of tundra cotton, because every time she looked up at the valley the scene was the same and she felt like she was standing still. It did change toward mid morning though, when the road turned southwards around a small hill and headed towards the mountains to the south.
Just before this she'd gotten a faint whiff of vampires and blood nearby to the north, and hurried her footsteps to move on and away. The road joined up with another from the west, that apparently went to Markarth, before splitting again, south to Falkreath and the first sign showing Riften, or east to Whiterun.
Serana was in a bit of indecision about which way to go, east to Strelka's hometown where she likely wasn't right now, or south on to Riften, the longer journey and only slightly more chance of her being there? She mulled about it for a while then chose the road south, but spent the next hour second-guessing her decision and wondering if she should go back and take the other road. In the end she stuck with the Falkreath route, because the scenery was a nice change from the never-ending openness of Whiterun's plains.
Here the road went up into a pass then wound its way through forests of pine and fir, the new woody scents tickling her nose. She wasn't used to this many trees, and although she enjoyed their swaying and the sound of the wind passing through their needles, it also seemed a little claustrophobic at times, especially compared to the exposed plains she'd just been traveling on.
Every now and then the strong musky scent of a bear reached her, and she was careful to skirt around the area till the scent was behind her. She'd gotten lucky with the Sabercat, but a bear or troll would be much harder to fight.
The road forked at one point, without signposts. She'd noticed that the signposts for the last day had been far and few between, and here there wasn't one at all. Cursing whoever put the signposts in, or in this case didn't, she resorted to following Babette's advice of south or east, and decided on the right fork that took her past a ruined tower and an old barrow.
Not long after this a new alarming scent of death on her left caught her attention, and the faint smell of a vampire. This she recognized as Babette's, and relaxed. The scent was old, and overlaid with burnt wood and flesh. Strelka's horse smelled of this place, though just the death, not the burning. Strelka had spoke of their little assassin's club, the Dark Brotherhood - or as Babette called it, just the 'Brotherhood' - and how they'd had to move when the Emperor's soldiers had attacked. This must have been the place she'd had to kill their former leader, as Babette had described. What would that do to someone, being asked by their own kin to kill them, even if they were found family and not blood relatives? Then she remembered the words she'd overheard at the castle and shuddered.
"It would fuck them up real good," she muttered to herself, turning back to the road eastward, "unless that was their plan all along. In which case they were already fucked up! Thank you Father, for tearing our family apart!" Bitterly she stomped along the road, her anger simmering.
Nor much time later, just as evening was beginning to darken the sky in pinks and purples, more sounds and scents of civilization greeted her and through the trees on her left a small city could be seen, smoke rising from chimneys above thatch-roofed stone buildings, much like in Rorikstead but larger. There were also wooden buildings, quite tall a few of them, and a fair number of people walking to and fro between them.
She was desperately tired, but feared stopping, and instead just went down towards the town a little way to ask a guard if she was on the right road to Riften.
"Yes miss, keep going along that road up into the mountains to Helgen, or what's left of it anyway. Follow the signs east from there."
"Thank you," Serana sighed and turned around to continue east.
"You look tired, miss," he called after her. "Not safe to travel the pass at night, and even less so if you're tired. The Dead Man's Drink in town'll rent you a bed for just ten septims..."
"Thank you, I'd like to press on."
In truth she'd have paid a thousand septims for a bed and a night's rest if she had it. But alas, she didn't, so up the pass it was.
The road continued on, meeting the path down to Falkreath on the eastern side of town. She hadn't traveled much farther beyond that when yet again that scent of dirt and sweat and leather greeted her. More gods-damned bandits. They were everywhere it seemed, although really, she'd traveled quite a long way through the Whiterun plains and had only encountered those two pockets of them.
They seemed preoccupied; standing on a wooden platform spanning the road - another blockade - their attention was on something beyond that Serana couldn't see, but she heard it and smelled it at about the same time - a bear!
"Oh fuck," she cursed, panicking. The bear could outrun her, the bandits had bows, and she was a sitting duck in the middle of the road. In her favor the twilight light made her hard to spot, and for the moment they hadn't seen her.
A quick glance of the surroundings and she saw a dirt track leading off to the left. At least that would hide her for now, so she slunk away quickly along the path. This afforded a view of the bandits on their platform where they probably weren't expecting travelers to approach, and for the moment she was safe.
The bandits were still preoccupied with the bear, and by its grunting and roars they'd succeeded in angering it quite a lot. Serana could see the closest bandit moving down a wooden ramp, bow still trained on the bear, about twenty feet in front of her, the other still on their side of the platform. A plan started to form in her head, one she might actually benefit from. Drawing her dagger she waited till the nearby bandit, a brown-haired Nord in his early thirties she guessed, had moved around a large tree out of sight of the further bandit, a blonde-haired woman about the same age.
Serana took this opportunity to leap down behind the man and bring her dagger down into his neck. He slumped almost immediately into her arms as the blood started to spurt from his neck, and she closed her lips over it to drink quickly. No point wasting fresh blood! She considered killing the other bandit too, using the same trick, but in the end just used the spell of vampire's seduction again to lull the woman into a stupor, her bow clattering to the platform. Then Serana almost casually with a self-satisfied smirk at her bright idea, wandered up the ramp, across the blockade and fed upon the woman too, till she fainted. She'd awaken sometime later with a headache, weak from loss of blood, but would otherwise survive, and be none the wiser.
That just left the bear, pacing and grunting angrily below. The source of its anger having stopped, with no more arrows piercing its hide, it shambled around searching for whatever had caused its ire. Serana took the opportunity to slump in the bandit woman's chair and catch her breath. It had been a busy day! But with three feedings in her, as slightly unpleasant as they were - luckily none of these bandits had resorted to dining of skeevers! - she was feeling quite a bit better than she had this morning, and the pause was a nice break for her feet.
Dusk rolled into night, and the stars above twinkled and sparkled. Serana wondered where Strelka was right now, where Babette might be, what her father was up to, and what she was doing in the middle of the forest feeding on bandits. She reflected on just how much she'd done in a day and a half on the mainland, so much more than she'd done in the castle - apart from the ritual perhaps - and she realized that as tiring as this was, she wanted more of it. More travel, more excitement, more adventures. Maybe she'd ask - no, she'd demand that Strelka bring her along on the elf's travels. There was no way she'd miss out on more of this!
"I hope she has a spare horse though," the vampire said to the woods as she got to her tired and aching feet and made her way back to the road. The bear had wandered away in search of its dinner, and Serana didn't wait around for it to come back. The fresh blood had boosted her stamina and she set off up the road at a steady pace.
The forest thinned out as she climbed further up into the pass, giving way to snowberry bushes and snow, and the temperature dropped as well, and the insect chorus faded away to be replaced by wind whistling off the snow.
The road wound up the side of the mountain, snow drifting across it here and there. Once again Serana was glad of the information Strelka had told her about the cairns; in patches those were all that marked her path. Coming round a bluff she saw the ruined fort, its once strong towers crumbling. The guard at Falkreath had called this place Helgen, and Strelka had mentioned the World-Eater attacking Helgen when she was a captive.
Serana warily approached the ruined fort as the scent of bandits was here too; perhaps she should go around? Being trapped in an enclosed space like this didn't seem like a good idea. She couldn't get over how much destruction Alduin had caused. Serana gazed in wonder through the open arch entrance to the fort. Right there, just twenty paces from her, she saw the executioner's block, where Strelka had said she'd been, about to lose her head when the dragon appeared. Gods it must have been terrifying!
There was still a strong scent of burnt wood and bodies, and Serana noticed a number of charred remains around the courtyard. But movement and the scent of bandit reminded her not to linger. She'd try another route around the fort. Backtracking down the road a dozen or so paces she found a track in the snow that followed the fort's wall, around to the left. She'd try following that and see how far it got her.
Twenty minutes later she was on the eastern side of the fort, quite pleased with herself, but the three roads leading away up the mountain were a little disheartening. On the left-most road there was a signpost and she hurried over to read it - Yes! Riften! Finally we're getting close! A glance further up to the road showed another signpost about a hundred paces away, and she rolled her eyes and cursed the signpost creators of the Whiterun and Falkreath holds for the second time that day.
As she climbed the pass road, a brief breeze from the north down the valley on her left brought a strange scent, heavily laden with magicka, of ancient earthy things yet very recent and fresh. Dark things, rituals unlike hers, wickedness and hate, and fire. The road didn't travel up that valley, just a dirt track, and Serana was glad; whatever creatures were up there she did not want to face them, Daughter of Coldharbour or no.
But the road ahead didn't seem much better. The gust from the north valley passed and the wind down off the pass ahead resumed, bringing a scent of recent blood and death, and and the stale sweat and dirt and leather of yet more bandits, at least half a dozen by the pungentness of it. Serana wrinkled her nose at the overwhelming stench of this little pack of heathens and wondered how they could survive each others' overpowering odors, but perhaps if they all smelled this bad none of them noticed how bad they themselves stank.
There were other scents too, fresh and warm but cooling. Fur, spices, exotic fabrics and woods. And the same warm scent of animal skin, cool now but unmistakable - a horse. Serana's heart sank. Looking ahead she could make out the carts, a body or two laying in the road, and was that a tail protruding from the dark fabric? These poor souls must be Khajit merchants! How she would have loved to look over their wares, at another time. She'd heard tales of the Khajit in Skyrim, bringing all sorts of exotic treasures from Elsewyr and Cyrodiil on their travels.
Her thoughts were wandering over memories of what she'd heard of Elsewyr, when a rough gutteral voice startled her back to the present.
"What's a pretty thing like you doing wandering the pass alone in the dark?"
'Oh fuck! They've seen me!' She barely had time to turn to the source of the voice, a great hulking Orc in studded hide armor wielding a dangerous looking warhammer on the rocky outcrop to her right, when an arrow whistled past her ear from up near the carts. A Redguard woman was nocking another to her bow, eyes fixed on Serana, as two more bandits ran before her, greed and the hunger of desperation in their eyes as they drew their weapons and prepared to fight. It seemed her luck with bandit encounters had run out.
"You picked the wrong time to get lost, friend!" the taller male on the left cried in a Nord accent, blonde hair streaming from his horned steel helmet.
Serana had her hands up, magicka building in her palms as the lightning crackled like an enraged beast around her right hand, spikes of ice ready to cast from her left.
"Let's get the blood flowing again!" she cried, shifting into a crouching stance and stepping to the side of the road, baring fangs and eyes aflame.
"Akatosh! She's a filthy fucking vampire! Kill her!" cried the closest of the fighters on the road, raising his iron sword to strike the undead creature before him.
"Aye, we'll kill you alright, missy. But maybe me and the boys we'll have a little fun first," came the voice of the blonde Nord behind the first fighter. "Get her on the ground! Me and Brandr gonna teach this pretty little vampire bitch how to be a good little girl!"
"I've already been fucked to death by Molag Bal!" Serana shot back, along with bolts of lighting. "You dirty stinking morons think your dicks live up to a Daedric prince? Your sexual powers are nothing!"
"That's it! You're gonna die, bitch!"
The blonde Nord scowled at being knocked back and staggering with the bolt of lightning arcing over his chest, before tightening his grip on his sword and charging at Serana.
"Just kill her, Heimgar!" cried the archer as she loosed another arrow than sang through the air over Serana's head. "I don't want die to a fucking vampire!"
"Shut up Tuya, you stay out of this!" the Nord, Heimgar, spat back at her. "The bitch is gonna pay for being a blood sucker!"
"More like you and your stupid dick are gonna get us in trouble again," said the Orc, jumping down from the rocks with his warhammer ready to strike.
"Just shut up and hit her, idiot!" Heimgar shouted at the Orc, who shrugged and started stalking Serana slowly.
She continued to hit them with lightning bolts, spikes of ice and vampire drain, but they were backing her into the stone embankment and getting steadily more angry.
"Nowhere to run, little pretty," Heimgar said softly, words dripping with malice.
Serana was beginning to panic; it seemed the bandit had a point, as much as she didn't want to admit it. 'How in Oblivion would Babette have gotten out of this?' she wondered. But then she remembered the ancient magic up the nearby valley. Perhaps that could distract them.
With another huge bolt of lightning at Heimgar that jumped to the Orc and the other bandit nearby, Serana turned and ran for her life into the dark and dangerous valley.
"Damn it Heimgar! Now she's fucking loose again!" cried Tuya, the arrow she had nocked swooshing through the air near Serana's leg to hit the ground with a "thok".
Serana scrambled wildly into the valley, stumbling over the rocks and grass, feeling the magicka building all around her. The bandits weren't far behind, yelling more obscenities at her and at each other, mostly Heimgar at the rest of the band as they charged after her. She prayed to whatever gods this magical creature was the spawn of to protect her as the air started to feel electrified with magicka.
"Ow! Fuck! Ow!"
There'd been a loud clank, and the other bandit with the sword had shrieked in pain. Serana couldn't tell what had happened to him and was too scared to turn around and find out, but moments later it happened to her too. Her foot sank into the grass and she felt something shift, a faint click, then a loud clank and pain shot through her leg. A bear trap had closed its jaws around her calf and brought her down.
'Ow! Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck! Who the fuck puts bear traps out in the grass? Ow! Fuckfuckfuck...' She was on the grass, wincing at the pain in her leg, eyes streaming with tears, when the bandits finally caught her. She was out of magicka and had no strength left to fight them. But she wasn't about to give up just yet. She drew the elven dagger she carried at her belt and held it under her arm out of sight.
"Well lookee here, our little butterfly got caught in a net," Heimgar said with a mirthless chuckle, approaching warily. "Maybe we should pull its wings off so it can't fly away... what do you think, Grabog?"
"That's sick, Heimgar, even for you," replied the Orc, disgusted. "Just do your thing and let's smash her skull in."
"Now who's the disgusting one, Grabog?" Heimgar responded. "You Orcs, you're all such fucking barbarians!"
"Ugh, whatever. Just hurry up. There's something not right in this valley."
Then Heimgar was on her, pinning her down against the Elder Scroll under her cloak and the hard earth beneath it.
"I'm not going to die here like this!" she cried, swinging her arm up trying to swipe at him with her dagger, but Heimgar was faster. He grabbed her wrist in his sweaty hand while pressing her other arm down by the forearm, and twisted it around till she cried out in pain, the dagger dropping into the grass at her shoulder. She struggled against him, tried to bite his arm, but he was too strong. Serana almost began to cry; it felt like the ritual all over again.
"It seems you are, you pretty little blood-sucking bitch. But first -"
The ball of fire hit him without warning, a billowing of searing heat in Serana's face which she flinched away from. Luckily for her the bandit took almost all of the blast as it knocked him from her.
"By Malacath! What the fuck was that?" Grabog cried in alarm, warhammer raised in defense, searching wildly for the source of the fireballs that were raining down on Heimgar now.
"Up there, on the rock! What the fuck is that thing?" cried Tuya, who'd come around into the valley to make sure Heimgar finished Serana off. She started shooting arrows high into the air above Serana's head. From her position on the ground, Serana couldn't see what it was they were panicking about, but out of the corner of her eye movement and more fireballs caught her attention.
'Hags... there's witchcraft here... I need to get away!' She fumbled around in the grass for her dagger, just as Heimgar rose to his feet again after the blasts, hair singed and face contorted in rage.
"Fuck it, I'm just gonna kill you, vampire bitch! Arrrggghh!" he roared, raising his sword to strike her neck. Thinking fast, Serana flung her dagger at his chest. He stopped mid-swing, sword raised over his shoulder, to look down at the golden glinting elven dagger in his chest half way up the blade. Scowling back at the vampire he raised the sword again ready to strike when another fireball blasted him off his feet backwards into the grass.
The Orc and the archer were busy fending off women clad in black robes, fireballs launching from their hands as two more bandits came around the hillside into the valley. Serana, leg still trapped and aching painfully, scrabbled at the bear trap with her hands. She didn't have the strength to pry it open but her panic was pushing her into a frenzy, and she started to kick at it with her free boot.
Quite to her surprise she managed to push it open a little for just a moment, and realized that was how she'd need to get out of it. She slowed her kicking and carefully positioned her free heel then pushed that foot down with all her strength. Gods these were vicious creations! Something her father would have thought up, but he wasn't half smart enough to invent such an evil device. More likely he'd have had Mother do it; wicked contraptions were her specialty.
She pushed slowly with her boot, prising, prising until it was open just enough to extract her other boot. It was a good thing her vampire armor covered her leg, and the boots reached her knee. The trap was painful like being stabbed, but it had not broken any bones and she could still stand.
Crawling to keep from being a target, she crept quickly to the still body of the bandit, roughly pulled her dagger from his chest and, watching the mayhem around her with apprehension in case someone spotted her, she slunk away to the side of the valley to get back to the road and away.
Hiding behind trees wasn't generally her thing, but in this case she decided caution and stealth were the wiser path. The hags and the mysterious creature on the rock outcrop were keeping the bandits busy enough it seemed, and she made it back to the road without drawing further attention, the bandits too busy fighting for their lives to notice the dark shadow slipping away along the treeline.
Turning back to see what it was that had saved her from Heimgar's blade - and other things - her heart leapt to her throat and her eyes widened in alarm. A birdlike creature vaguely in the shape of a hunched-over crone perched at the top of the outcrop near a tent, stringy black hair hanging down its head and raven colored feathers along its arms. It uttered rough raucous screeches as it blasted fireballs from its hands at the remaining bandits without mercy, and they were too fearful of the creature to land arrows on it, their trembling shots going wide. Serana had only ever heard of these creatures in books, and occasionally in alchemy circles. It was a Hagraven, deadly to vampires and mortals alike, and she'd drawn the bandits right into its little coven.
With a shiver she turned back to the road and ran stumbling on up the pass as fast as her sore leg would allow, the screams of the bandits engulfed in flames still audible even after she'd passed the ambush. She only spared the Khajit a passing glance of pity because getting away was all she could think of right now.
Around the next bend she had to slow down to catch her breath and she paused, bent over and wheezing hard.
"Fuck, that was close!" she gasped to herself. "What in Nirn was I thinking?"
As she stood there in the road, a new scent drifted past her nostrils from the next valley to the left, fresh and old blood, and animal, musky and raw. Not a horse, but she remembered this scent from recently crossing the pass on her way to the castle with Strelka. Frost trolls. It was strong here, though distant. A glance up and to the left of the road revealed two of the creatures near a cave, waving bloodied bones around and gnawing on them, some poor traveler who made it past the bandits or had come down from the pass, and would now never make their destination.
Was that compassion she was feeling, for someone she'd have probably fed on in another set of circumstances?
"Serana Volkihar, what has gotten into you?" she said to herself, incredulous at the fleeting sensation. This journey was certainly turning up some unexpected events!
Shaking her head with a small smile, partly in relief at having escaped a pack of bandits and a Hagraven, at the same time no less, and this newfound revelation that she did in fact feel for others - a dubious quality in a vampire - she began again walking up the road to the summit of the pass, amidst a gently swirling snowfall that started to drift down from the peaks on either side.
The summit was surprisingly lack-luster; one moment the road was going up, the next there was a brief turn to the right and it was going down, not even much of a view on the other side.
"All this, just for that," she grumbled. "Oh well, at least we're going down now."
Coming around the first turn downhill she saw a lighted lantern glowing in the distance on a barrel, near the path further on. A cave of some sort. She slowed her steps, wary of anyone coming or going from the entrance, but saw nothing.
As she drew closer however the all-too-familiar scent of vampires met her nose, and she realized she'd smelled them a little further back up the path as well but the scent had been indistinct and hard to pinpoint, what with the winds swirling about through the narrow pass. Here though, this cave entrance definitely had a scent of active vampires, and their thralls. Those were usually the giveaway since they still smelled a lot like bandit but now with vampire scents all over them, being around them constantly as they were.
Seeing no movement from the entrance Serana hurried past and almost got hit in the arm by an arrow.
"What the -" she gasped, head whipping around to find its source as a rabbit hurriedly bounded by. She looked further down the road and saw the hunter, another arrow nocked and tracking the rabbit's path. Stepping quickly out of the line of fire, and hoping secretly that the hunter missed his target and the bunny got away, she sidled down the hill trying to keep well to the side before she passed him.
"Watch where you're going, missy," he grumbled gruffly to her as she passed, arrow still trained on the escaping rabbit. "Almost skewered you there. Get back here you furry little terror!"
There were a number of furry - or feathered - terrors just over the pass, Serana thought to herself. This hunter might not fare much better than the bandits. Better stick with his rabbit.
"Gods, this bloody country will be the death of me," she grumbled shaking her head at how dangerous the journey was becoming. "How in Nirn does Strelka get around here all the time by herself?" Babette might be used to sweet-talking her way past most people, and granted, she had hundreds of years more practice at getting about, but by the Blood this place was dangerous!
A saddled horse, probably the hunter's Serana presumed, was shambling along in no great hurry after its owner, and whuffed in a bored way at Serana as she passed. This at least lifted her spirits, and she chuckled at its nonchalant relaxed attitude in the midst of all this danger. Of course, the hunter was there to protect it, and she only had herself, but if a horse could survive, well, darn it she'd try to as well.
She almost reneged on that goal at the bottom of the hill. She was just walking up to a signpost, the first she'd seen in a while - though there hadn't been any other roads to choose from so a signpost was a bit pointless unless you'd just stumbled out of the mountains upon the road - when she caught a whiff of a new scent. She just had time to charge up a bolt of lightning in her palm when two wolves bounded out of a thicket across the road after another rabbit.
Serana crouched and prepared to fight the wolves if they tired of the rabbit or it got away, or most likely they caught it, and was ready when they turned their attention to her, howling their intent to attack. She was such a bigger feast than a rabbit after all. The first wolf came at her directly, snarling and baring its fangs. The second held back skirting around to her flank to attack while she was distracted.
"You're not getting the best of me!" she cried, and launched a bolt of lighting into the second wolf before it could snap at her. "I still remember how to fight!"
Sparks arcing over its fur, the second wolf slowed and reconsidered, calculating another angle to get at her. Meanwhile, the first had slowed its approach and regarded her warily. This was not some simple farmer it was facing.
She cast a spell of ice spears on it and it yelped, but then turned and snarled again, standing its ground, preparing to leap.
'Fuck,' thought Serana, seeing the determination in its eyes, 'here it comes!'
She grabbed her dagger just as the wolf leapt and closed its jaws around her other forearm.
"Ow! You little bastard! Die!" she shouted, stabbing the dagger into its neck. The other wolf lunged at her shoulder, the one holding the dagger, and the combined weight pulled her off balance. Unfortunately for the wolf she landed rather awkwardly on it and it released its hold on her shoulder with a yelp, before struggling to get free.
The wolf's jaws on her forearm weren't piercing the leather bracers, but like the bear trap it was exerting a painful amount of pressure. She stabbed it again in the side of the neck and blood spurted out as its grip slackened and it fell limp to the road.
Then the second wolf was back and pounced on her snapping at her face savagely. She drew her legs up under it and kicked hard into its stomach, sending it flying through the air with a yelp before it hit a tree and slumped to the ground motionless, its back at a strange angle.
The sudden quiet with faint crickets and other insects in the distance was a welcome reprieve. Serana lay on her back for a full minute just staring up at the stars and breathing, working the tension out of her body as she calmed her jangled nerves. This part of the journey had been too much excitement at once, unrelenting, exhausting. She needed to rest. This was not what a Volkihar princess should be getting up to. On the other hand, apparently 'dying' was exactly what a Volkihar princess should be doing according to her father.
With that sobering thought, she sat up, got to her feet, dusted off her cloak and trousers and continued on, weary and dazed. She could smell a bear nearby but was almost too tired to care anymore. She just hoped it would find something else to chase.
A little further along the road her hopes jumped at the sight of a small shack, just off the road to the left. The prospect of a place to rest drew her exhausted feet towards it of their own will, in as much of a run as she could muster. Finding it deserted with no scent of recent inhabitants she relaxed, smiling and decided to at least sleep in the abandoned bed, a welcome break from the journey.
She staggered over to it and flopped face-down on the fur-covered straw. At least it wasn't bare earth. Without rolling over her feet found each other and the boots came off, falling to the floor with an unceremonious thump. And with that, she was out.
Notes:
Sorry it took so long to get this chapter together.
Yes I got distracted! XD
The next one ought to be quicker as I wrote a fair chunk of it thinking it would go in this one, then decided on a better split in the story.
Happy 2022 all! Stay safe!
Chapter 3: Arrival
Summary:
"Listen, Serana..." Sorine began quietly, turning back to her, "I know what you are..."
Serana's big adventure concludes!
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The sun was high in the early afternoon sky, blazing down on a pale Nord cheek through the western facing window. Its owner awoke after many hours to almost unbearable brightness.
"Fuck!" she cursed, pulling her hood down tighter over her head and then the cloak up over the top of that, covering her burning cheek. "Ugh! What is it with this place, out to get me? I should have just stayed in that damned crypt!" Grumbling at everything, she closed her eyes again, the heat off her black cloak in the sun warming her in the cool mountain air, and eventually the warm lethargic drowsiness overcame her and she dozed off again.
Some time after that Serana awoke with a dull headache, groggy and unfocused as she opened a bleary pair of glowing amber eyes in the cool darkness. She sat up, trying to get her bearings on the edge of the bed and looked slowly at her surroundings. It took her several moments to recall where she was, and how she'd gotten there. The alchemy hut was small and simple, a little garden out the back alongside an alchemy table with its alembic, and some ingredients in little wooden dishes on the shelves inside. One shelf even held a butterfly trapped in a jar, that looked near the end of its existence, barely able to flap its wings any more.
"Ohh, poor thing... Here. No net for you," she whispered softly to it, unscrewing the lid to the jar, and tenderly coaxing the small being on to her fingertip to watch it in the twilight, flexing its wings slowly. "Go on. Get out of here while you still can."
Holding her hand steady, she rose and walked slowly to the doorway, amber eyes watching the little creature struggling to keep a grip on her pale skin.
"Off you go. Stay safe!"
With a little puff of breath she gently blew the butterfly into the air and it rose, unsteadily but with purpose, until she lost sight of it amongst the nearby trees with leaves the same golden color as the butterfly's wings. With a sigh she looked around the small open room, kissed her fingertip and touched it to the door frame.
"Thank you, little hut," she whispered, before turning to the road and pulling her hood back up over her head with a sigh of determination. "On to Riften we go."
About half a mile from the alchemist's hut, Serana was on a straight stretch of the road when she heard the sounds. Boisterous singing, hooves on cobbles and the huffing of a horse, creaks and groans of moving wood and the clanking of iron on stone.
She turned back in a panic to see a carriage on the road behind, approaching steadily. She could probably outrun it, for a while at least, but to do so would draw attention to herself.
"Shit... nowhere to run, nor hide; they'll see me for sure. Maybe I can bluff my way through it... yeah, right. Woman alone on the road at night again."
With a sigh she resigned herself to fate and continued walking steadily, and within a few minutes the carriage had pulled up alongside.
"Whoa girl," the driver called to his horse. "Hello there missy! Where might you be off to this fine evening?"
"Riften is my destination," Serana replied. The driver wasn't going to go abandoning his carriage to chase some woman in the wild if she decided to run. It wasn't him Serana was concerned about however, so much as who he might be carrying and what their intentions were.
"Ah! Sorine, this young lass is headed to Riften too! Is there something going on there that's drawing pretty lasses from all over Skyrim? That rogue Brynjolf fellow looking to settle down?"
"Haha, Kibell you tease! I'm not going there to get betrothed! And definitely not to that shady Brynjolf!" came a woman's voice from the back of the carriage.
Its owner, Serana assumed, peeked over the carriage at the vampire from her seat on the far side. The dark night hid much of her features but the driver carried a torch, and Serana saw the curious half-illuminated face of a reddish-brown haired young Breton looking in surprise back at her.
"Oh! What in Nirn are you doing out wandering the woods at night?" she asked with a quizzical slightly astonished expression. "Do you want to ride with us? There's plenty of room, and it'll be much safer. And add to the fun!"
Serana's sharp intake of breath was luckily not as audible to them as it was to her. After the harrowing passage through the pass she would have jumped at the chance to ride with them. This walking was tiring, and she hadn't had a chance to feed since Falkreath.
For a moment she considered attacking the pair of them, but then noticed that the woman - Sorine, the driver had called her? - was wearing leather armor, and carried a decent sword. She was no mere merchant but a fighter, probably a good one by the condition of her armor. The driver too had a bow tucked within reach, and probably a dagger as well. No, attacking them would be foolish, if the bandit encounter had been anything to go by.
But she had no money, and couldn't afford to pay the driver, so the luxury of at least not having to walk for a while was beyond her means it seemed.
"Thank you, that's a kind offer. I'm afraid I have nothing to pay you with though. I'll just keep walking. Thank you anyway."
"Don't be silly!" replied Sorine cheerfully. "That's really unwise. Carriages are the safest way to travel, right Kibell?"
"Aye lass, you've got the measure of it," replied the driver with a touch of pride.
"Here, it's only a few septims. I'll cover your fare. Kibell, she ought to get a discount - we're over halfway there from Markarth, and we're going that way anyway!"
"Aye, fair enough Sorine. Five septims is plenty! It'll cover some nice hay for Matilde when we reach Riften, won't it girl," he cooed at the mare, who huffed and shuffled impatiently, ready to continue on. "Climb in back miss, and we'll be off."
"Thank you, that really is very kind of you!" That strange feeling flared in Serana's chest again. Gratitude. What an odd, likable thing it was.
Sorine stood to offer Serana her hand to climb into the back of the carriage, and Serana took it, settling onto the bench opposite the Breton with a smile. Kibell flicked his reins and Matilde resumed her careful steady plodding along the cobble.
"I'm Sorine, in case you haven't guessed," Sorine said with a grin.
"Serana," the vampire replied, taking Sorine's offered hand and giving it a brief shake. "Pleased to meet you."
"What brings you to Riften on such a nice night? Really, the weather is being remarkably good for a change. Half expected to drenched by the time we got there, but it's turned out nice."
"I'm visiting someone. I'm not entirely sure where to find her, but she's out this way somewhere. Her work takes her around Skyrim a lot, but I'm hoping she'll be around. How about you?" Serana was anxious to steer the conversation away from her reasons for travel. She didn't want to let slip what she was, who she was, why she was there, or much else about herself. But Sorine's easy-going manner put her at ease and she found herself opening up a little, and not feeling anxious about it.
"Going to help an old friend with a pest problem," Sorine chuckled. "Honestly, we didn't part on the best of terms when I last saw him, and if it weren't for this particular kind of pest I'd probably stick to my research."
"Oh! What sorts of things do you study?"
"Dwemer artifacts mostly. I was out in the Reach just about to find something big, I'm sure of it. But my friend contacted me and said he needed my help urgently with his pests." Sorine sighed, her expression turning grim at the thought of whatever these 'pests' were. Serana guessed it was something a little more serious than a Luna moth infestation on some cabbages. The Breton continued, gazing with a pensive frown back along the road they had traveled.
"Yes, when you haven't spoken to someone for five years and you didn't part on good terms, and suddenly they call for your help, it's probably pretty bad. You know what was really strange though?" She turned back towards Serana without waiting for a reply.
"I'm out in the middle of nowhere, see, and I'm digging around some tumbledown Dwemer ruin, looking for my gyros that some damned mudcrab has run off with, and all of a sudden out of the fog comes this giant monster of a horse, almost black, red malevolent eyes glowing at me like it can see my soul." She shivered at the thought of those knowing eyes. "I swear that horse is not a normal horse."
"Anyway, its rider is this little Dunmer woman, wearing this pale greyish armor, leather it looked like, with malachite-glass boots and gauntlets and a giant Daedric bow on her back, bigger than she was! I'd never seen anything like it before!"
Serana recognized the description immediately, and sat up straighter, listening intently. If Strelka was asking around Skyrim for people to join Isran and the Dawnguard, then Sorine's "pest problem" is vampires, including her. A cold chill went through her body, in spite of the warm air here, to be sitting in a carriage with an unfamiliar someone skilled at hunting her kind. Sorine was still rambling on, unaware of Serana's unease.
"She tells me my friend needs my help, gives me a hand searching for my satchel full of gyros - I mean, honestly, what in Nirn does a mudcrab want with Dwemer gyros? - I suggest she look north for another acquaintance of ours that can help with the pests, and she's up on that massive horse and off into the mists again! Strangest thing I've ever seen, and I've seen some odd things! She had a grim determination about her too, like this wasn't something she wanted to do, but had to for some greater purpose. Seemed quite upset about it, and a little sad as well."
"Oh... That's... that's very interesting," Serana replied, lost in thought. If Strelka was out recruiting people to help with the vampire threat, riding all over Skyrim to do it, then something serious must have spooked her. Was it Harkon? That must have been a harrowing experience to go through, expecting death at any moment, then finding out you're not dead, yet, but you've seen how you could die and it's not pretty.
'Or maybe it was me?' she thought to herself, and a sadness came over her heart at the thought that maybe she'd set Strelka on this grim path of destruction and purging.
"Speaking of traveling," Kibell called over his shoulder to the women, "have you ever met one of them cats? Kah-jeet I think they're called. I hear there's whole countries of them down south."
"Yes! Well, no. I mean, sort of?" Serana replied, earning a confused look from her traveling companion, wanting to steer the conversation away from vampires again. "I saw some over the pass. Poor things. Caught in a bandit ambush it seemed."
"Yes!" cried Sorine. "We saw them too! What a way to go. Come all the way to Skyrim to sell a few rugs and wares and you're taken out by bandits before you even reach a marketplace. No sign of the bandits though, which was strange. Did you see any Serana?"
"No," the vampire replied, not wanting to relive that little adventure just now. "No I didn't. They must have run off. Or something else came along and shooed them away."
Sorine was looking at Serana curiously, but didn't say anything. After a moment she shrugged and her expression brightened.
"Well, we're on a carriage, Kibell here is one of the most experienced carriage drivers in Skyrim and I've got my crossbow," she patted a strange bowed device on the seat next to her that Serana hadn't noticed before, "so we should be fine against bandits."
Serana didn't point out that the Khajit at least had two carts and there were more of them, nor bring up the carriage with the strange arrows near Dragon Bridge. She eyed the bowed weapon warily; it looked like it meant business and was not some child's toy, savage like the bear trap but more calculating. Not something she would want used on her!
"We're heading into bear country," Sorine said a few minutes later. "Better get the songs going again. Here." She passed Serana a brown bottle and opened one herself. "Nord mead. Helps to get you in good spirits!"
"Why do I need to be in good spirits?" Serana asked, looking at the bottle in confusion.
"Helps you sing louder," Sorine replied with a grin. "An old carriage trick, right Kibell?"
"Aye lass. Noise keeps the bears away. Wolves too. Not so good for trolls, but that's what this is for," he said, patting the bow under his seat. "Let's get it going then."
In a loud voice that even Serana could tell was off-key, Kibell began to sing, if it could be called 'singing'.
"Oooh, there once was a hero named Ragnar-the-Red who came riding to Whiterun from ole Roriksteeeaaad..."
Serana cringed and grimaced at the driver's wails.
Taking a swig from her mead, Sorine joined in for the next few lines of the song, waving her bottle around merrily by its neck. Noticing that Serana was silent, she paused mid-verse.
"Come on Serana! Sing along with us!"
"I... I don't know the words. I'm sorry."
Kibell and Sorine stopped singing abruptly, mouths agape. Sorine stared at her in astonishment for a moment, before replying.
"Don't know the words?! Where have you been for the last hundred years? Under a rock?!"
Serana looked down at her hands, thoughts running through her head of why she was out here, even in this carriage with the jovial and rather inquisitive Breton, and her happy mood evaporated.
"Yes," she replied in a small voice. "In a manner of speaking."
"Woah! Sorry, didn't mean to touch a nerve there," responded Sorine in a sober more gentle tone. "Would you like to learn it? It's a pretty simple tune, popular in Whiterun..."
At the sound of one of Strelka's hometowns, Serana's spirits lifted and she came out of her morose mood. "Yes. Yes I'd like that," she replied, with a small smile to the other woman.
"Alright then, I'll teach it to you. But first you gotta take a big swig of the mead, and you have to sing loudly, for the bears, OK?"
"OK, I can do that," Serana said with a glad smile. She took an enthusiastic gulp of the mead and almost choked in a coughing fit, but managed to recover as Sorine led them through the song, a line at a time.
Serana laughed and clapped happily when they reached the end and the punchline.
"I named Matilde here after Matilda from the song," Kibell spoke up after the women had gone through it a third time, waving their mead around and positively bellowing out the tune. "She's my shield maiden, aren't you girl?" To which the mare gave a whuff of acknowledgement and tossed her head about proudly, as she clop-cloped along.
They made good time, Serana noticing the signposts flying by and the landscape changing. The singing did indeed seem to keep the bears back; She saw many of them, but none of them would venture closer than thirty paces to the wagon, and once or twice she did see wolves slinking away from the raucous noise. Half of Skyrim could probably hear them, but if it kept them safe it wasn't a bad plan.
The road wound around through the birch trees and came out alongside a river, which it seemed to follow for quite a distance. At one point a thief appeared by the roadside, Argonian by the look of him, in some run-down leather armor and a hood, holding a short iron dagger threateningly.
"Alright! Give me all your valuables, or I'll gut you like a fish!"
"How about, you turn around and start running, and I decide whether to let you go or shoot you in the back!" replied Sorine, on her feet in an instant, crossbow pointed at the thief's head. Kibell had also picked up his bow and nocked an arrow. Seeing her two companions were ready to fight this robber, Serana stood and turned to also face the thief, readying lightning in one palm, and spikes of ice in the other.
"You have a fair point landstrider. And a sharp one at that. Perhaps I made a mistake." The Argonian's expression had gone from aggressive and threatening to panicked and he hastily sheathed the dagger he'd been waving around.
"You're damn right. Now turn around and get running!"
In spite of three bottles of mead in her, Sorine was remarkably serious and sober, a seasoned hardness in her voice. Her reactions were instinctual, practiced, and honed. Serana was glad she was traveling with the woman and not being attacked by her.
The thief turned and ran for his life into the nearby woods, but Sorine did not resume her sitting position for a good minute after he'd disappeared, crossbow panning across the edge of the forest for a target.
"Hmmph. Not very impressive," mused Serana at the thief's lack of courage and preparedness. "We'd have easily taken him if he had tried to attack."
"Indeed," replied Sorine, sitting back down but still searching the trees warily. "The Thieves Guild is such a joke, turning out desperate fools like that with no hope of success. Mind you he probably wasn't expecting someone like us to be on the carriage. Anyway, where were we? Oh yes, I remember now! And the braggart named Ragnar was boastful no moooorrrrrreeee..."
Serana joined in again for the last line, throrougly enjoying herself.
"When his ugly red head rolled around on the floor!"
They cheered and clinked their fourth bottles of mead together, smiling and happy, and the journey seemed to pass quickly. Before she knew it Serana was seeing the lake and dockside buildings of Riften coming in to view ahead, the air foggy with moisture, and the scents of lake and mud and fish were tickling her nose.
The brief stop in Solitude she had made with Strelka seemed so long ago, and Riften was quite a different city, but it still was exciting, being this close to so many people. And then a strong whiff of sewers hit her, and she screwed up her face at the unpleasant odor.
"Here we are!" said Sorine cheerily. "Not the worst trip I've made to Riften, by a long shot. Are you stopping here Serana, or carrying on to somewhere else?"
"Going on a little further east to my friend's house."
"Well it's been nice traveling with you! I'm going to stay here for a night or so then head out to meet my friend and see about his pests, how much of a mess he's in. Safe travels!"
She hopped down out of the carriage, picked up her satchel and crossbow and waved to Kibell.
"Thanks Kibell! And you too Matilde! See you again next time I'm in Markarth!"
"Aye lass, you're always welcome!" he replied.
Serana had climbed down from the carriage and was wondering what her next steps would be as the Breton woman started for the city gates, then paused.
"Listen, Serana..." Sorine began quietly, turning back to her, "I know what you are..."
Serana gasped and her eyes flew wide with fear under the hood. Here they were, near a city, surrounded by people - many of whom were armed, including the woman standing before her with kindness in her voice, concern on her face.
"I've known since I saw you on the roadside, and I wanted to warn you: I'm coming here to hunt your kind. But I don't want to hunt you. You seem like a nice woman, and I'd really feel bad to end up on opposite sides of a crossbow with you." She reached out to gently take Serana's hand. "Be careful, and don't give me a reason to, OK?"
Her smile was genuine, her touch gentle. If Serana's heart had been beating it would have been pounding in her chest, trying to get away. But Sorine's kindness put her at ease, and she allowed herself to smile.
"Thank you, Sorine. I'm glad to have met you. I too hope it doesn't come to that. I'm actually here to meet someone who may be able to stop it, though I don't know where they are right now."
"Well, I wish you luck! Hopefully our paths will cross again soon, under good circumstances! Don't forget you still owe me five septims for the carriage ride!"
"Haha yes!" Serana relaxed and smiled. She was going to miss this woman's company.
"Well, see you!" With a final squeeze of Serana's hand, the Breton turned and waved over her shoulder as she walked up to the guards to gain entrance to the city. She glanced back with another wave and a smile before entering the gates and disappearing from view.
Serana still had her hand up in a wave, looking after the woman, but now she lowered it and glanced around, trying to decide her next move. Noticing she hadn't moved since climbing down from the carriage, Kibell called to her.
"Well lass, this is Riften. Nowhere else to go, unless you want to return to Markarth with me in the morning."
"What? Oh... No, thank you, this is where I meant to go." On a whim she thought the driver might be able to help. "Do you... do you know how I could find the Dawnguard? I heard they were east of here somewhere."
"Nay lass, 'fraid not. But the guards over there might know. Why not ask them?"
"OK. Thank you, and thanks again for the carriage ride."
"Any time lass. Say hello if you're visiting Markarth! Always like to hear from my passengers!" With that he turned and went to talk to the stablehand about hay and maybe some oats for Matilde.
Serana smiled and nodded to Kibell, and turned to the city guard stationed at the gates.
"Excuse me, could you direct me to the Dawnguard? I hear they're near here but I'm new to the Riften area and don't know my way around."
"Sure miss. You want to continue around the walls to the east road." He pointed off to the wooded area on the far side of the road from the stables. "Take that down the hill across the river then look for an entrance between some braziers on your left."
"Thank you," Serana replied and began to walk in the direction he'd indicated.
"Be careful down there, miss," the guard called after her. She turned to hear his concerns. "Vampires and Spriggans and all sorts of creatures wandering in the woods. And there's a dragon nearby in the mountains!"
"Oh, I know all about dragons," Serana said with a chuckle. Truth was, she really didn't know much at all about them, and only having seen Strelka take on one at close range didn't make her an expert. But it caused the guard to gape at her with his mouth open as she turned back eastwards and wandered off into the gloom and fog that surrounded the city, a little smirk of satisfaction at surprising him on her lips.
Once she left the cosy dancing torchlight of the city entrance however, her bravado faltered and she got that uneasy feeling of fear again, the chirping crickets doing little to assuage her unease. The darkened woods seemed quiet for a while as she scanned them frantically, watching for anything unusual, but then an all too familiar scent wafted up from the valley to her left - death hounds, and with them the bloodied clothes of vampires, sloppy Mistwalkers by the smell of them.
At this point Serana figured she had little to lose; she was close enough to the Dawnguard that if her father learned of her whereabouts it would hardly matter, since he was planning to attack them anyway. They might at least be prepared to protect her better than the rest of the citizens, and she hoped that the news of the prophecy would be sufficient to rally them in her defense. So with grim determination she turned north and crept down into the valley, dagger drawn.
She spotted them between the trees before they saw her, but the deathhounds had already picked up her scent. The recent episode with the wolves had given her some experience and confidence at least with creatures biting her, and she was ready when the first deathhound leapt snapping at her. She used the bracer on her left arm to block its attack and brought her dagger down swiftly with her right arm into its flank. Pulling the dagger out quickly as it staggered away whimpering she readied a kick into the second one.
They didn't fight like the wolves, like pack hunters; just dived in snapping and growling and trying to latch on to their prey. The second one dodged her kick and tried to bite at her, but she thrust out her dagger and its momentum caused it to impale itself on the blade, now embedded in its throat. The dog's body went limp but its weight carried it on, and the dagger was twisted out of Serana's hand as the animal slumped onto its side at her feet. In no time the Mistwalkers had reached her, and she was running to dodge balls of flame and bolts of lightning.
"I'm going to enjoy killing you," came the deeper voice of the closer one, a tall red-haired Dunmer woman in black, bloodied robes. Her partner was still a little further back, a black haired pale skinned Nord woman, wearing the black leather armor typical of vampires.
"Your powers are nothing! I'm a Daughter of Coldharbour and I still remember how to fight!" Serana called back, lightning and ice spikes flying from her palms. The lightning arced from one vampire to the other, and they scowled in rage at her.
"You'll die like a mortal, just as easily!" the Dunmer taunted, another ball of flames flung at Serana.
She knew the Dunmer was susceptible to cold; Strelka had grumbled about it a lot in the few battles they'd had on the way back to the castle, so Serana summoned ice spikes in each palm and flung them over and at the Dunmer. She tried to retaliate but very quickly the cold slowed her to a stagger, and she stumbled to her knees shivering.
Serana took the opportunity to drain her remaining health while continuing to throw ice spikes one after the other, a grim look of determination on her face.
"Sorry it had to be this way!" she cried, with a final bolt of lightning into the woman who slumped face down into the grass. With a cry of triumph the Daughter of Coldharbour turned her attention to her remaining foe. The Nord had been hanging back, trying to hit Serana with her own frost magic.
"Tough day for you! Die!"
With a brief flourish of her free hand, Serana called on her powers of Necromancy and cast a spell to reanimate the dead Dunmer to fight for her, turning the tables on the Nord.
"Aaiieee!" the Mistwalker shrieked and turned to run back into the valley, but now both her former partner and Serana were pursuing her. Serana smirked to herself at the scene as she ran down the hillside, still firing ice spikes and lightning into the woman as she tried to escape, fireballs from the Dunmer hitting her in the back while she ran. Volkihar supremacy amongst the creatures of the night! Her clan was still the strongest amongst the vampires of Skyrim.
In spite of the other vampire's armor it took only a few minutes to finish her off, especially now that Serana was no longer on the defensive. The Mistwalker knew her end was near and crouched, hands over her head for some meagre protection crying for mercy. With a final bolt of lightning Serana shocked the woman and she toppled over, lifeless.
"That'll teach you!" Serana said to herself with a chuckle. She felt she was really starting to get the hang of this adventuring and fighting business. With a bit of a proud swagger she made her way back up the valley to rejoin the road and continue on, pausing to wrench her dagger from the maw of the deathhound with both hands; it had really driven it in deep!
A little way further along the road, just out of sight of the city walls there was a small ruined tower, and Serana was yet again treated to the stale sweat, leather and iron scent of bandits. These ones didn't smell quite as bad as the group in the pass, perhaps due to the small stream further downhill. Maybe they bathed a bit more often? They had a stronger scent of fear and desperation however, trying to eke out a meagre existence with just two of them in this exposed run-down place. The fight with the Mistwalkers had tired Serana, and, not knowing when she'd next be able to feed, she decided to attack them.
With one out of the way by means of vampire's seduction, she took on the other, a gruff Orc in some old rusty iron armor. He was strong but slow, and she had no trouble hitting him from a distance with ice spikes and lightning until he begged for mercy. She showed him some with a quick death, biting into his neck and draining the living essence out of him, before turning to his stupefied partner and repeating the act. She was grateful to them for at least being cleaner than the other bandits she'd encountered but in the end she didn't have a lot of guilt about ending their lives; they'd have returned the favor if given the opportunity.
With that, and a quick moment to freshen up and wash the blood off her face and clothes in the small stream down the hill, she was ready to face the Dawnguard and her fate.
Rising from the stream the scent of two wolves nearby caught her attention and yet again she crouched, readying ice spikes and lightning. The wolves had barely made it around the end of the bridge spanning the stream she was in before one was shocked to lifelessness and the other blasted back across the road, an ice spike protruding from both sides of its head.
"Done and done!" she said with a chuckle, dusting her hands off. This journey was certainly giving her a lot of practice at fighting, far more than she'd gotten at the castle. With a smile on her lips she started up the bank and on down the road, glancing briefly up the hill on the left at an impressive lodge some distance up the hill.
"Huh, wonder who lives there? Seems wealthy whoever they are... Well, the guard had said the Dawnguard place was marked by some braziers, so I guess that isn't it." Her spirits were so high after the last few encounters that she started to sing as she strode purposefully on down the road eastwards. Who knows, maybe it would keep the bears away even on foot?
"Oh, there once was a hero named Ragnar the Red who came riding to Whiterun from ole Roriksteeeaaaad... Hmph! I've been to Rorikstead. I'm not surprised he left, haha! Oh! Here we are I guess..."
The braziers were on her left, highlighting a dark gash in the rock face of the mountainside.
"Ugh, a cave," she said with a sigh. "Oh well, in I go. I'm this close, can't stop now!"
Serana wasn't entirely sure what she expected in the cave, given that it was supposed to be Skyrim's hope against vampires. She didn't expect the cave to open into a narrow snow covered canyon, and even less that the canyon opened further into a secluded valley with beautiful waterfalls shimmering with mist and ice in the moonslight, pouring their contents into the short but wide river before her which disappeared into a cavern off to her left. Rocky snow-covered peaks all around cast long shadows across the water, as the pale light of dawn was brightening the sky.
"Oh... wow..."
She'd seen some beautiful things on her journey, but many of them from a distance. Here the beauty was fifty paces away. Nearer the waterfalls on the far side, much of the river's surface was frozen over and ice sheets draped down the cliffs; this water was cold, right off the melting snow from the peaks above.
"I'm guessing Strelka doesn't bathe in that," she chuckled to herself. "I suppose I had better press on and find her."
The path wound around and out of this valley to the left, through another canyon and into another valley, and Serana knew at once that she'd reached her destination.
"Oh! Now this looks like something worthy of standing up to Father..."
The fortress was at least as long as the castle, though perhaps not as high. Grey smooth stone formed its many towers, walls and parapets. There was no visible door, not from where she stood. Perhaps that was to give the archers much more opportunity to defend it from the many narrow embrasures in the crenellated parapets she could make out atop the towers and along the walls.
Serana was glad she had decided to side with people against her father; to try to attack them here with her father's forces would be an absolute massacre, or at least it seemed so. She noticed also that in spite of its massive size and impressive battlements, there were hardly any people here defending it.
A brief gust of wind brought some scents from up the valley to Serana's nostrils, and it confirmed her observation, that the area was mostly deserted. A panicked thought hit her that's perhaps Rargall and his forces had already reached the fortress and eliminated the Dawnguard. Gods! What would she do then? Return to Riften and hope to find Sorine before the city's guard shot her down in the streets? Wander Skyrim alone for the rest of eternity trying to evade her father?
Her spirits turning from happiness to fear, she frantically searched for anyone, anything that told her that this journey hadn't been in vain. One thing that she did realize, after a few moments more in the breeze, was the absence of the scent of vampires or blood, at least recently and even then it was extremely faint. This revelation was welcomed - Rargall had not reached here, yet. There was still time. She relaxed and began to breathe normally again.
In doing so, she noticed a couple of things - woodsmoke and cooking, someone was making a meal nearby; fear, and desperation, but not like the bandits, which meant there were scared citizens here; and then she caught it, the scent of leather and steel, a warrior, but not a familiar scent like the city guards or even of Sorine's kind of armor. No, this was something else, something new. She'd need to watch her steps here. They were, after all, gathering to fight vampires like her. She'd need every ounce of diplomacy she possessed to not get herself killed at the drop of a hat.
As she walked slowly further into the canyon, hood down to obscure her face, particularly her eyes, she caught sight of the warrior, a blonde Nord woman on a raised wooden platform that formed a wall across the canyon. Serana was going to need to get by her to gain entry, but before she could form a plan, the warrior called to her.
"You there! State your name and business here!"
Damn, she had one of those crossbow devices like Sorine's! And she looked ready to use it too.
"Hello! I, uh... my name is Serana Volkihar. Is this the Dawnguard camp? I'm here to see Strelka, a Dunmer woman who I believe is with the Dawnguard? Or maybe her leader, Isran I think he's called?" Serana tried not to let the fear show in her voice. That crossbow, and the woman's demeanor were making her very anxious; she thoroughly expected to hear a sound of... something - what do they sound like anyway? Sorine had never fired hers - and feel a piercing pain in her chest as the last thing she ever experienced. "Please, I've come a very long way, and it's really important... For your fight... Against the vampires..."
She was babbling now, pleading. She so very much wanted the journey to be over, wanted to find Strelka, make sure she was OK, tell the elf about the prophecy, her father, everything. Strelka was the only person she felt she could trust, though Sorine might listen too, and Babette, although a small band of assassins wouldn't last long against her father, no matter how good they were at their profession.
The Nord woman on the platform gave Serana a hard stare for some moments, before tightening her grip on her crossbow and responding.
"Come with me, Miss Serana Volkihar. And don't try anything. You'll be dead before you hit the ground. Hands where I can see them." She raised the crossbow in one hand and moved to open the gate with the other, watching Serana shrewdly the whole time. "Let's go."
Serana did as she was instructed, walking towards the gate. Once she'd passed through, the warrior called out to her to stop.
'Oh no... What now?' Serana thought. 'Here it comes just through my back instead of my front.' She'd resigned herself to a quick death and was just about to turn around and beg to the woman with her life in her hands, when the woman spoke again.
"What's that, on your back under your cloak?"
"On my... Oh!" The Elder Scroll! She'd completely forgotten about it! Turning, she replied, with more defiance in her voice. "It's an Elder Scroll, and it's mine. If you want it you'll have to kill me first, and I will fight you for it. But please don't make me; like I said it's been a long journey, and I just want to see Strelka. Or Isran. Please?"
The woman continued her cold hard stare at Serana, sizing her up. After a moment, she responded.
"Lower your hood."
"It's bright out here, the light hurts my eyes and I -"
"Now!" The hardness in her voice was unmistakable. This woman did not mess around. Serana wondered if she had ever laughed, even once, in her life. Fearing the consequences of disobeying, she reluctantly reached up slowly and pushed her hood back, then lifting her head to look defiantly up the shaft of the crossbow bolt inches from her eye socket.
"You're a vampire, Miss Serana Volkihar. And you're in a vampire hunter camp. You're either very brave, very stupid or very desperate. Which is it?"
Serana considered the options, both in the question and her choices of how to proceed. She thought about casting vampire's seduction on this woman to try to get past, but didn't like her chances. She also considered using her dagger, or her spells. None of those would be fast enough and anyway they'd set discussions off on the wrong foot, attacking your potential partners. No, the best option was to put herself at this woman's mercy.
"I think probably I'd fit all three of those categories," she replied with a sigh. "Look, I don't want to fight you, and I won't, even if you choose to attack. But please just take me to Strelka. Or Isran. Let them hear me out. Then, maybe you can use me for target practice, as you see fit."
"Wise choice, Miss Monster. Turn around. Start walking."
This woman was not at all like Sorine, Serana realized with some sadness. Not everyone was going to be nice to her just because she was away from her father. Was the rest of the Dawnguard going to be like this too? Defeated, her shoulders slumped and she turned and shuffled slowly on into the canyon around the fortress towers, the woman barking out short directions every so often.
They rounded a second tower and Serana saw the source of the cooking smells, woodsmoke and fear. She saw the desperation on the faces of the few frightened citizens as they looked at her and realized what she was, so close to them. She hung her head, unable to meet their frightened stares of horror at the abomination so near, so dangerous.
"Eyes front, monster!" came the harsh voice behind her. A very sharp point jabbed her in the back, through cloak, vest and tunic. Those things were dangerous, but she almost didn't care any more. It seemed like the whole trip had been a bad idea; she should have just hidden herself in a cave for the rest of her nights. "That's what your kind have done to Skyrim! Turned the strong and hardworking into terrified rabbits!"
Serana didn't try to point out she'd been asleep in a crypt for a thousand years. No excuse, alternate perspective or reasoning would work with this woman. The vampire was mildly surprised she hadn't already been shot by now; perhaps that meant something? But that thought was snuffed out almost instantly with the point of the crossbow bolt jabbed into her back again.
"Keep walking!"
She looked up again and noticed they were nearing the end of the valley. The path wound round to her right, and now the massive doors into the fortress were visible, twelve feet high of studded iron, nigh on impenetrable if the building's occupants so chose. Again Serana was struck by the lack of warriors patrolling the grounds or the parapets. Apart from the woman behind her and the 'rabbits' as Serana now thought of them, she hadn't seen, heard nor smelled anyone else in the valley.
Where were they all? Surely the group wasn't this one woman, Strelka and the now-seemingly mythical Isran? And of course Sorine too once she arrived. There had to be more. She certainly hoped so, or against her father they'd have no chance fortress or not. That isolated cave idea was, unappealing as it seemed, looking like the better option more and more.
"Open the door", the woman barked at her when they'd climbed the steps. "Now go inside. No sudden moves or I'll paint the walls with your monster blood."
Serana didn't doubt it for a moment. She entered the building and was instantly relieved that it was dimmer inside. That and the fact she wasn't sporting the latest in crossbow bolts embedded in her chest.
The inside of the fortress was extremely airy and open, and covered with cobwebs. It reminded her of the neglect in the castle, dust and broken down furniture strewn about. Here at least there didn't seem to be blood on everything; in that respect they were at least a little cleaner than her father.
"Forward!" The Nord woman prodded her again before calling out for the fortress' few occupants to assemble. "Isran! Durak! Celann! Tilde if you're awake! We have another 'visitor' ."
"What is it, Vori?" came the voice of a swarthy Redguard in his mid forties, with hair cut stubble-short and a beard and mustache, appearing on a balcony above the women. He had on similar armor to the woman - Vori, and carried a large and unusual warhammer on his back. "By Stendarr, it just walked in?" he exclaimed, seeing what type of 'visitor' Vori was referring to. He started to jog around the balcony to a stairwell Serana noticed on her right.
An Orc and a reddish brown haired Breton also with a beard and mustache but longer hair appeared to the womens' left from a hallway that carried scents of fresh bread, cooked beef and even an apple pie - Serena hadn't tasted, or smelled one of those in longer than she could remember - and from the doorway ahead another blonde Nord came sleepily wandering in, yawning.
"Whasit, Vori? Was happening?" she mumbled through a yawn.
"A damned vampire, that's what's happening Tilde!" Vori scolded her drowsy associate. "Wake up!"
The Orc and the Breton man had drawn their crossbows and were aiming them at Serana's face. Tilde looked at Serana with a groggy expression, like she was taking twice as long as normal to put two and two together.
"She's a vampire," she mumbled out, half asleep. Vori rolled her eyes in exasperation. "She doesn't look like she's fighting. What's the problem?"
"It just walked right up to the gates, wanting to talk to Isran, or that Dunmer woman -"
"Strelka," mumbled Tilde.
"Yes, Strelka. Why do you think a vampire would just walk in here, not fighting, and want to talk to those two?"
"I don't know, but I'm damn-well going to find out," said Isran, marching up, warhammer drawn and ready to swing. "Speak, abomination," he spat at Serana, before we kill you and feed you to the dogs!
Serana sighed. Of course this was how they'd greet her; why had she expected anything different? Strelka hadn't treated her like this; maybe she'd gotten her hopes up because Strelka was different. Mind you Strelka was different from a lot of people.
"I'm guessing you're Isran," she asked. "I have some news for you. Sorine is in Riften and should be here in a day or two. Said she was going to rest up after the carriage ride we shared from Markarth."
"Impossible!" replied Isran. "if you'd shared a carriage ride from Markarth with the Sorine Jurard I know, you'd be dead before you left the city."
"She knows I'm a vampire. And I didn't join the carriage till after Helgen, but we rode to Riften together. She was kind enough to pay my fare."
"I think you're a dirty, lying monster, though I can't see why you'd come here to tell us this. What's your name, abomination?"
"Serana Volkihar."
"Damn it! Of all the fucking people to walk in here. And Vori says you're looking for Strelka? Where's your Elder Scroll?"
"She claims it's under her cloak," chipped in Vori.
"Show us!" ordered Isran.
"I don't know that I can trust you," Serana began, to which Isran raised his warhammer and the others readied their crossbows.
"Show us now, or we strike you down where you stand, abomination!" he roared.
Serana stared at him hard, a scowl on her face, then reached slowly up to her cloak and unclipped it, lifting it around to her side. She did not break eye contact with him, did not blink. Perhaps she should just let them kill her, save having her father trying to do it. Whatever he needed her blood and her life for, it would be taken from him.
As the cloak fell away the golden radiance from her scroll lit up the dimly illuminated atrium. She heard a whistle from the Breton man, Celann she presumed by his name.
"I've never seen one before, boss, but that looks like how I'd imagine an Elder Scroll to look." Even Isran momentarily had dropped his scowl to stare wide-eyed at the scroll and its illuminance of the room.
"By fucking Stendarr himself, she was telling the truth..." he whispered, lost in thought. "I didn't believe her when she showed back up here after she was supposed to go and take care of you at Dimhollow Crypt, and she came back with some cock-and-bull story about a vampire woman and her Elder Scroll and her Vampire Lord father..."
At the mention of her father, Serana finally dropped her scowl and closed her eyes, her energy gone. This had all been because of his psychotic glory, his plan of domination. It brought such a weight to her heart to be reminded of that after all she'd been through.
"Hey! So, vampire, what's all this about then?"
Serana looked back up into Isran's eyes and replied quietly.
"You're just going to have to wait till Strelka returns. You've given me enough shit already."
Isran scowled at her, but he could see something had changed in Serana, and that he was not going to get any further cooperation out of her for the time being.
"Fine," he said, lowering his warhammer. "Celann, you're on first shift watching our... guest till Strelka returns. I want her watched day and night. If she tries anything, shoot her."
At least Isran had moved from calling her an 'it' to referring to her as 'her'. That was progress, Serana supposed. She hoped Strelka would return soon.
A day went by. Then another. Then a third. Serana had been moved up to a small alcove off a bed chamber - apparently Isran's, and he snored! - on the second floor, the room he'd appeared from when she first arrived. Celann had taken the first shift, then the Orc, Durak, then Tilde, a little more awake, and eventually Vori.
There were some others in the fortress Serana had come to know; they came up periodically to seek Isran's counsel on this or that. Serana paid them little heed. She was incredibly bored, not even being allowed to read a book.
Her guards did not talk to her, and she didn't want to talk to them, so she just sat and looked for recognizable shapes in the blood spattered on the floor to pass the time.
Isran was beginning to get more and more agitated day by day, and he finally stormed in to the alcove and demanded she tell him exactly what happened on the carriage ride with Sorine, as it was now some days later and she still hadn't shown up.
There was a loud clang of the front doors opening, and moments later Durak poked his head around the corner to get Isran's attention.
"Vori's got some newcomers," he said in a gruff voice. "They also say they're looking for you. You'd better hurry. Vori's pretty jumpy after our 'friend' here showed up."
Isran scowled at Serana, with something like disgust, but was still civil in his words.
"Stay here, and don't cause trouble or you'll be wearing a new piece of jewelry, right through your chest," he said as he picked up his crossbow and leveled it at her ribs.
"Wouldn't dream of it," she sighed. Honestly, after three days here under constant guard she felt they ought to have trusted her just a fraction more.
He eyed her unflinching gaze back at him for another moment with a characteristic suspicion she'd learned was his signature mood, before raising his crossbow with a grunt then turning on his heel and marching out into the atrium after Durak to see who had arrived.
Serana looked around the small alcove with it's torture equipment, glad that they hadn't resorted to putting her on that - yet. Her thoughts were wandering over her adventure, thinking of all the things she'd seen and done in such a remarkably short time, when a familiar voice caught her attention, and by the sound of it they weren't happy.
"DAMN IT ISRAN! WHAT IN NIRN IS THIS?!"
Serana giggled at the sound of Sorine's bellow from the entrance. Even one floor up and some distance from the atrium her annoyance would cut steel.
"You know damn well who we are! You asked us to come!"
"Haha, yes!" Serana said with a smile at the image of fiery Sorine chewing Isran out over pretty much anything, and him caving under her glare. She was glad Sorine had reached the fortress; at least a friendly face would be around now. It sounded like she might have met up with her other acquaintance in Riften too. Serana hoped they were as easy going as the Breton woman had been.
She only caught part of Isran's reply; some submissive mumbling about "security breaches" and "Stendarr-damned abominations", but by his tone she could tell he was feebly trying to regain control of the situation. The rest of the conversation was lost; sound traveled weirdly in the fortress, and she resumed staring around the alcove idly, until the sound of footsteps approached.
"In here," she heard Isran grumble sourly to someone who had followed him upstairs. She couldn't tell who they might be by their scent; the smells of the fortress and the Dawnguard and particularly this chamber with all its blood spattered about masked most everything. Hoping it was Sorine she turned at the sound, and her heart was in her throat in an instant. Oh Gods, it's -
"You!" the newcomer gasped in surprise.
They stared at each other, frozen and mouths agape in shock for a full five seconds, before leaping into the other's outstretched arms, hugging tight enough to squeeze the life out of one another.
Serana hadn't been so happy in her entire life. She vowed to herself she would never leave this Dunmer woman again.
"I can't believe it's you!" Strelka said in astonishment, a radiant excited smile on her face. "How... where... when...?"
"It's a long story, but quite a tale, for me anyway. Probably typical day for you, haha. But before we get to that, I have to tell you - and Isran too - about this prophecy, and my Elder Scroll, and me..."
And most of you reading know the story from there.
Notes:
Well, there it is, a possible version of Serana's tale. I hope y'all liked it! :)
Kai (Guest) on Chapter 1 Fri 03 Jun 2022 11:03AM UTC
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DunmerWoman (Rakaia) on Chapter 1 Fri 03 Jun 2022 11:45AM UTC
Last Edited Fri 03 Jun 2022 12:04PM UTC
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Kai (Guest) on Chapter 1 Sat 04 Jun 2022 05:54AM UTC
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DunmerWoman (Rakaia) on Chapter 1 Thu 04 Aug 2022 01:18PM UTC
Last Edited Thu 04 Aug 2022 03:03PM UTC
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Last Edited Sun 19 Jun 2022 02:24AM UTC
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DunmerWoman (Rakaia) on Chapter 3 Thu 03 Mar 2022 06:14PM UTC
Last Edited Thu 03 Mar 2022 06:17PM UTC
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DunmerWoman (Rakaia) on Chapter 3 Mon 19 Sep 2022 01:18AM UTC
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