The Gift
[ Disclaimer: I do not own TESV ]
Chapter 1 – Happy Birthday
"If freedom is a birthright, why did the Divines let us create the Oblivion called war?"
-Braeygr Windseeker, A Breeze of Memories
First Era
In the dead of night, Castle Volkhair's main gate screeched open with resistance and wear as two muscled granite gargoyles dragged in a hefty occupied metal cage. A thick cloth had been draped over the top, so the captured creature inside could not tell where it passed or where it was heading.
On the confines' interior, magical ice and lightning runes covered the bars, deterring whatever resided inside from even fathoming an escape. Following the gargoyles, a tall Nordic vampire slinked behind their quarry, donning a sharp frown. He gripped a heavy leather studded whip in his clenched pale hand while the other lingered anxiously on his blade's hilt. Not taking any damn chances…
"Lord Harkon better reward me greatly, or I swear by the blood…" The undead nightwalker muttered under his frostbitten breath as the small party neared the castle's entrance hall.
"Explain to me again why you ordered Orthjolf, four full-blooded vampires, ten armored thralls and three gargoyle brutes to the southwest forests near Falkreath on the whispers of some rumors?" Lady Valerica berated at the head of the table next to her husband. Her brows narrowed tightly with discontent while the vampire lord raised a goblet of wine to his lips in order to keep her waiting just a bit longer.
From the balcony behind them, Serana counted mentally and drummed her pale fingers against the ancient stone banister.
Five.
Four .
Three.
Releasing a relaxed sigh from fanged lips, Harkon lowered his goblet slowly.
Valerica's patience teetered on a very thin string.
Two .
One.
"Because my dear, three weeks ago, a vampire hunter managed to navigate his way to the island, scaled the castle's second tallest wall, hid in your garden and almost pierced a silver arrow through our only daughter's heart. If Vingalmo hadn't been there to dispatch the intruder, we wouldn't be having this conversation, now would we?" The ancient lord finished his explanation and brought his drink back to his mouth once more.
Dispatched him? I broke the fool's arm before Vingalmo raised his withered hand to cast a spell. Serana bit her tongue for not reporting her side of the incident immediately and instead letting Vingalmo take care of the mess.
Hopefully, Harkon's response satisfied his partner…
Valerica crossed her arms along her chest and tapped her index finger in the crook of her arm. "Yet you react by sending one of our head advisers and his top detail to the farthest edges of Skyrim after our daughter's life was threatened. You lowered our defenses for what, Harkon?"
Harkon's responses never satisfied his partner.
"You shall see, my dear patient wife. You shall see." He responded lightly.
The undead lord took his gaze off his lovely wife and watched as some thralls began carting in food. Fresh Altmer that lost their way to Solitude seemed to be the evening's main dish. A few servants balanced on top of ladders, hanging bloodied banners and replacing low candles with fresh scarlet variants molded all the way in Morrowind. Vingalmo directed his set of workers to spread the scent of Valenwood wild flowers across the great hall.
Serana grimaced at the preparation and pandering that cluttered the room.
"Don't you think celebrating a name day is pointless for a vampire?" She suggested from above, gaining her parents' attention.
Fura set down a bouquet of fresh black roses imported all the way from Cyrodiil into a nearby vase. She sniffed a few of the beautiful plants then motioned for some of the workers to bring more.
"Serana, for you nothing is pointless, and a change pace is needed after the incident." Her father retorted earnestly and beckoned for a servant to refill his goblet.
"Besides, some wish to maintain frivolous appearances and delusional control." Valerica mouthed silently to her daughter.
Serana chuckled under her breath, exciting a question from her father.
Before he could ask, the main entrance doors swung open with the fury of a god. Startled and curious, all eyes followed the large lumbering cage moving forward and Orthjolf trailing not too far behind it. The gargoyles carefully lugged their quarry into the dining hall's center between the two long side tables.
"Ah, you've returned, and I see your hunt was successful. But I believe I sent you with at least twice these numbers." Harkon didn't bother counting how many actually returned with the Nordic vampire while Orthjolf tried rubbing some fresh blood off his cloak to make himself more presentable to his master.
"M'lord, only I and two of our brutes made it back. The prey proved to be… stronger than we anticipated unfortunately." Orthjolf explained with pain on the edge of his lips and stepped forward fully into the candlelight.
Murmurs and gasps to ignited the blood-soaked air. Two broad scars marred the immortal skin under his left eye, and his lower right fang was missing.
The creature lurking could be heard pacing back and forth underneath the cloth.
Valerica flashed a raised eyebrow to her husband and stood up. "We are glad you made it back in one piece, Orthjolf, but what exactly did my short-sighted husband command you to search for? Certainly it was worth a good fifth of our forces and four weeks we could have used to search for how the hunter managed to even take one step onto our island?"
Serana, behind her parents, placed her chin on her knuckles when her father silently responded to his wife with a blood-freezing glare from the corner of his eye. She could feel a new argument begin brew…
"It certainly was, m'lady. This will prevent any further incidents and strengthen this court… if that is even possible with overflowing amount of power we already command." His smoldering eyes traced to Harkon for a moment, wondering if his tongue caused him to tread on a thin line.
A thankful sigh exited Orthjolf mouth, for Lord Harkon appeared too occupied with his wife's biting tongue to focus his fury on the advisor.
"Lord Harkon, Lady Valerica, please give me the honor of presenting the young Lady Serana her first name day gift." Ortholf requested and bow deeply. Harkon flicked his wrist forward. Other members of the court began to file in and take their seats once the advisor cleared his throat.
Vingalmo stepped forward abruptly.
"What form of honor should be bestowed upon the likes of you for chasing a myth while others have actually made themselves useful by performing Lady Valerica's wishes? I have been diligently investigating our mysterious intruder and found he hails from Eastmarsh. He seems to be from a larger organization I am still unearthing." The Altmer vampire captured his audience and even managed to garner a welcoming grin from Lady Valerica.
At least someone in this castle listens to someone other than her husband.
"I've been carrying out Lord Harkon's orders unlike some pointy-eared wretch who's more suited to be a jarl's jester than a vampire. Your magic is as thin as your blood." Orthjolf spat with more venom than a frostbite spider.
"And this… thing is supposed to be our solution?" The Altmer seethed, letting his fangs flash at the Nord.
"Oh, do you question our lord's judgment, Vingalmo? He trusted me on this important mission, and I've undying belief in his decisions, don't you?" Orthjolf cajoled the elf to answer.
The twisted smile forming on the Nord's lips from watching his rival squirm and sweat could only match a wolf's grin after catching two elk and a wounded mammoth in the same morning. Vingalmo wasn't a fool to take chances when discussions were made about their lord's choices and actions.
Stay silent, agree and you may live another decade.
"N-No, of course not. I have complete faith in Lord Harkon. Now if you'll excuse me." Vingalmo dismissed himself and stepped to the side disgruntled.
With the floor cleared, Orthjolf let the unveiling commence. He cracked his whip at the covered cage, and let his audience listen to the aggravated growls and hissing coming from the beast inside. He unsheathed his broadsword then dragged the blade across the metal bars just to stir it up.
The other court members sunk in their chairs slightly while thralls backed up towards the walls. Content with the minor display, Ortholf took two fist-fulls of the cloth.
"Without further interruption… your gift, Lady Serana."
With some effort, Ortholf ripped the thick covering off.