Disclaimer: I do not own Skyrim or any aspect of the Elder Scrolls universe. Insofar as I can own original content in a fanfic, I own any original content, such as characters, places, items, concepts and plot points, that I put into this fic. I am not making any money off this, and Bethesda owns Skyrim and The Elder Scrolls series and everything to do with both.
Note on Dating: For the purposes of this fic, it took approximately ten months for the Dragonborn to complete the Dark Brotherhood, Thieves Guild and Main Quest questlines, along with various sidequest and such. After a few weeks, the Dawnguard questline was started, and including a month at Castle Volkihar between becoming a vampire and the search for a Moth Priest, the whole thing took about two months. Thus, its been approximately a year and a few weeks since the 'start' of Skyrim.
Final Note: The Elder Scrolls universe is rich in lore, backstory and detail, and the characters are diverse and well-developed. This makes for a great play experience, but it also makes it very difficult to get every little thing right. I'll be drawing heavily on the Unofficial Elder Scrolls Pages and their Lore articles to make sure I get everything right, but I'm sure I'll miss things, or get things wrong here and there. If I do, please feel free to (politely) correct me.
Thanks to Thyvillain's help as a beta-reader for this chapter. If you haven't already, check out their fic "Forsworn Prince", an excellent read.
Jarl of Blackreach
By Alkeni
Chapter 1: Immortality
Heartfire 7th, 4E 202
Volkihar Cathedral, Castle Volkihar
With a final scream of furious agony, Lord Harkon's body collapsed into red ash, falling onto the bone-strewn floor. The glowing, smoldering pile was all that was left of the obsessed, ambitious lord of Castle Volkihar.
Kisyra let Auriel's Bow drop nervelessly from her hand as relief flooded her. It was done. Harkon was dead. The sun would not be extinguished. And most importantly...Serana was freed from her father's shadow. Kisyra made her way to the woman crouched by the pile of ash, blood trickling from a dozen small wounds. Drawing upon the magic of the Restoration school, Kisyra ran a glowing yellow hand over her own wounds, then did the same to Serana's injuries.
Serana looked at Kisyra as she healed her, then turned back to the ash pile. "He wasn't always like this." The Daughter of Coldharbor said softly as she scooped up some of her father's remains, letting the fall back to the ground through her fingers. "At least, I'd like to think that. That the man we just killed wasn't the father who raised me, who once loved me. But maybe...maybe this is who he always was? Maybe he was never the man I remember from my childhood. Maybe this is always he ever was: a cold, cruel, obsessed madman, willing to sacrifice anything and anyone for his quest to end the tyranny of the sun."
Kisyra put her hand on Serana's back. "Its possible, Serana. But people do change. In the past, maybe he really was a Father to you...but clearly, whatever he was before, the prophecy became his only obsession, the only thing that mattered to him. He picked it over you, over your mother. But he's gone now. You're free of him. Free of his madness."
Serana stood. "No, not just me. Both of us. You knew – you knew he was always going to try to kill you, one way or the other, from the moment you accepted his gift, became one of us."
Kisyra nodded. "It wasn't that hard to expect. I suppose...the last year has been an education, in the ways of betrayal, and ambition. I was too powerful for him to accept in the clan for long. Too powerful, too free-willed...all that I was waiting for was for him to realize just how powerful I was. Being able to use the Voice alone would have been enough to be too powerful." She sighed. "Just once, I'd like to go somewhere where people aren't trying to – or planning to - kill me, or seek my help for every little thing." She faced Serana directly. "Regardless...now that he's dead...how does it feel? To be free of him...but...he was your father...that still has to mean something."
Serana looked away a moment, licking her lower lip slowly. "I thought I'd feel worse. Some...sadness, or guilt, maybe...loss? I just...I just killed my father. But...I don't. I'm...disappointed. You're right, though. He hasn't been my father in...a long time. Not where it counts, anyway." She looked at Kisyra. "The fight's over, Kisyra. You can take the mask off."
Beneath the cowl and mask of her Nightingale Hood, Kisyra smiled a moment. Serana hated talking to her when she was wearing the mask. Not that she had any real attachment to it herself, but she wore it so often that she had long since grown used to it. Before Serana, she'd usually only taken it off to eat or sleep. Reaching her hand up, she removed the mask, then lowered the hood, revealing her face.
Though an Imperial by birth – and she still had the accent to prove it – visually, Kisyra's skin could have been passed for that of the most pure-blood of any Nord, so pale had it been even before she'd become a vampire. Her hair, on the other hand, was black, hanging long and straight down to her back. The only blemish on her face was a narrow scar along the right side of her chin. A souvenir from that damned day in Helgen.
"Much better." Serana smiled. "As for how I feel...now that I'm free of him? I think I can show you better than tell you." Serana reached up, one hand tracing along the scar a moment, before going behind the other vampire's head. She gently brought Kisyra closer to her and pressed her lips to Kisyra's.
A feeling of pure, unadulterated happiness flowed through Kisyra at the touch of Serana's lips on hers. It was a feeling she hadn't felt, not so clearly, so cleanly, since before she'd actually come to Skyrim over a year ago. Wrapping her arms around Serana, Kisyra returned the kiss, holding the other woman close. The feeling of Serena's lips on hers, Serana's arms around her...Kisyra was quickly lost in the sensation, as the both of them gave into desires they'd ignored for too long, their awareness of the world around them falling away.
It was the sound of a polite, but firm throat-clearing that pulled the both of them back to the world. Kisyra broke the kiss, pulling away from Serana, her hand vanishing from the other's lower-back. "I hate to interrupt," Garan Marethi's smooth, unassuming voice belied the magical power that fairly rolled off him. "But with Lord Harkon's...unexpected death, there are matters that must be discussed."
"It had to be done." Serana told him firmly, facing the Dunmer. "He was mad. In a perfect world..." She shook her head. "Regardless of what I might have wished, there was no other way."
Garan held up a hand, as if in protest. "Far be it for me to contest or question your reasons for this. My loyalty to Lord Harkon was to his position as Master of this Castle and Leader of the Volkihar Clan. I serve whoever it is that holds that post, regardless of who they are. By right of blood, the titles should go to you, Serana." He turned to face Kisyra. "On the other hand, by right of conquest, they are also yous. Fortunately, the fact that the two of you are so clearly...aligned suggests that there will be no problems on that front."
"Is there a point to all this, Garan?" Kisyra demanded, her hand flying to the hilt of her sword – one of them, anyway.
Garan bowed a few inches. "I assure you My Lady. There is a point."
"Then you'd best get to it. As you can tell, I've had a rather long day, and I'm in no mood for verbal games." Kisyra had never held much fondness for any of the vampires in the castle, bar Serana.
And Garan, though efficient in his role as Harkon's Chancellor, had been no exception.
"Vingalmo and Orthjolf are waiting outside, ready to attack you if you two are indeed the ones to leave this room. I would advise you both to be ready for them."
"I don't particularly want the throne." Serana said. "They're welcome to it, for all I care." Kisyra couldn't help but agree.
"Unfortunately, I know them too well for that to work, My Lady." Garan replied. "As long as the two of you exist, even if you cede command of the clan to one of them, they will see you as a threat, and never rest until you are dead for good. It would be best to kill them now, or at the very least put them as firmly in their place as your father did."
"No other alternatives? How convenient for you." Kisyra sneered. "Tell me Garan, why aren't you with them? Don't you have any ambitions of your own?"
"Not particularly." Garan replied, unfazed. "The Throne holds no allure for me. Though, through most of the last two hundred years, since my rise to this post, I've done far more of the decision making than Harkon. Your father spent more time brooding over his missing Elder Scrolls than in acting as leader of the clan. And if neither of you have any real interest in the position, I'm content to do the same for you."
"Very convenient." Kisyra rolled her eyes. "I've no interest in ruling, but if you expect to stay as Chancellor, there are ground rules I will expect to be followed. If not, there will be a new opening in the Court. And I will be making decisions, Garan."
"Certainly, My Lady." He bowed, deeper this time. "We can discuss your rules and desires after your rule has been secured." He made is way over to Harkon's ashes. "Do you wish these preserved, or shall I have them disposed of?" Kisyra turned to Serana. It was her decision.
Serana shook her head. "Get rid of them. Scatter them into the Sea of Ghosts. Leave the fishes to eat what's left of him."
"Very well," He inclined his head in acknowledgment of the command.
Paying him no further attention, Kisyra turned to Serana. "Ready?"
"Not particularly." Serana admitted. She turned around a moment, waving a hand. Auriel's bow floated over to her hand, and she gave it back to Kisyra. "But I suppose it has to be done. The Court really doesn't change. There's different people than from when mother sealed me away...but they're still having the same pointless fights."
Kisyra suppressed a slight laugh. She took the bow, slinging it over her back. "I don't think I need the weapon of a god to handle those two. My sword will be good enough." She rested a hand on its hilt.
"I imagine you think you could defeat Orthjolf faster than I could Vingalmo." Serana asked Kisyra, a smile forming on her face, an eyebrow raised as she looked from her sword hand to her face.
"Every day of the week, Serana." Kisyra replied smoothly, smiling as well. "I'll even bet on it." She added dryly.
"With what? I don't exactly have any money to speak of." Serana countered.
Kisyra smirked and raised an eyebrow. "I think we can both imagine suitable...forfeit, no?"
Serana smirked at Kisyra's words. "I suppose we can at that."
Pulling her hood back up, Kisyra replaced her mask and drew her sword of choice for dealing with vampires. She'd nicknamed the ebony longsword she'd taken from a bandit leader 'Toorzahkrii' for its fiery enchantment. It had served her well any time she'd needed to defeat a vampire before, and it would continue to serve her in that capacity now.
Stepping out of the Cathedral, sword in hand, shield on her other arm, Kisyra looked out from beneath her hood at Orthjolf and Vingalmo in the main hall below. Running at the railing, Kisyra grabbed onto it with one hand and backflipped down onto the main floor, landing right in front of Orthjolf.
"Show off." Serana muttered as she headed for the stairs, readying her magic.
Kisyra looked at the two 'advisors' to the late Harkon, then to all the other assembled vampires of the Volkihar Court. "Harkon is dead. By right of blood and conquest, control of the clan, and this castle belongs to Serana and myself. If any among you wish to challenge that right, do so now. Otherwise, I have things to do."
"You have been of this court, of this clan, for barely two months." Orthjolf spat. "How dare you presume to be superior to any of us?" The Nordic vampire drew his own sword, leveling it at her. "You should be licking my boots, woman!"
"I killed Lord Harkon. If you think you can do better than him, go for it." Kisyra chuckled darkly. "I could use the cool down from a real fight."
"You're not just facing him. Dull and crude as he is, Orthjolf is correct, this time. You have no right to be claiming such a position of power in this clan." Vingalmo said cooly, lightning flying from one hand to the other as the high elf stepped to stand on the left side of Orthjolf.
"And you're not just facing her, Vingalmo." Serana called out. Lightning of her own flew from her fingertips, hitting Vingalmo. The Altmer vampire cursed in his own language before spinning around to face Serana. Kisyra was moving on Orthjolf even before Vingalmo was halfway done with his motion, her sword flying into the Nord's left side. Even as it connected, pain spread across the vampire as fire spread from the wound. But it wasn't for nothing that the rest of the clan feared Orthjolf's skill with a blade. He swung his sword at Kisyra, the draining enchantments more than capable of leaving its target exhausted. But the sound of metal on glass was the only response, as the Dragonborn caught the attack on her shield. She'd spun around, as if in a dance, and even as Orthjolf's sword arm recoiled from the impact, she was swinging her own weapon back around.
This time, Orthjolf was ready, and he caught the attack on his own sword. Flames still leapt from her sword to his arm, but the amount was less. Gritting his teeth against the pain, refusing to let it stop him, Orthjolf smirked fiercely. "You'll need more than that to defeat me!" He pulled his weapon away from Kisyra's and started swinging at her. Each two-handed blow was caught on the Dragonborn's shield, but she kept giving ground, stepping back from her attacker. "You can't beat my strength with your tricks! Fire is nothing to me!"
"If that's not enough fire," Kisyra replied with a smirk, "Then how about this? YOL TOOR SHUL!" The air reverberated with the power of her Thu'um. But with her words came fire, spitting out from her mouth. It covered Orthjolf, the dragonfire burning stronger, hotter and faster than even the magical fire from her sword could.
Crying out in pain, Orthjolf started to beat at the flames all over his body with one hand, swinging his blade wildly with the other. Kisyra took the opportunity, not letting up her attacks for a second. Once, twice, three times, her sword hit him. On the fourth swing, the vampire barely more than a walking, bleeding cinder, she caught his head under her shield and pulled him in, the ebony weapon driving right through his chest.
As Kisyra pushed Orthjolf's collapsing body of her sword with her foot, Serana ducked under a spell from Vingalmo. She had avoided some, but no tall of his attacks, as a lightning burn on her side could attest, but her own magical protections were better than the Altmer's. "This won't end well for you, Vingalmo! Give up while you can!"
"Never!" The elf replied, snarling out his words. "For three and a half centuries I licked that bastard's boots, served him ably. I will not be denied what is rightfully mine!" Serana gave no reply. She called on her magic one more time, another spike of ice flying out of her hands. It broke through Vingalmo's ward, punching through his neck and all but severing his head.
Breathing hard, Serana looked to Kisyra, and saw her approaching, Orthjolf's ashes behind her. Looking around at the other assembled vampires, Serana watched them fall to their knees in supplication. She didn't bother to hide her distaste as Garan spoke.
"Hail Lady Serana and Lady Kisyra, Masters of the Volkihar Clan!" His words were echoed by all the others with little hesitation.
"Stand the fuck up, all of you." Kisyra demanded, dropping her hood and removing her mask. "I didn't ask for this position, but I have it, and there are some ground rules. First of all, no groveling. Its annoying as hell." She gestured. "So stand up!" The vampires complied with her order. "Secondly, clean this place up." She gestured to the entire room, moving one hand in a circle. "We're vampires, not cultists of Namira. We drink the blood of mortals, we don't eat their flesh. And I don't appreciate the smell of rotting flesh clogging up the air." The vampires didn't move. "Now." She added. "Get to it." She beckoned to Garan to come closer, the Chancellor complying. "I want the doorway to the courtyard re-opened, and I want the castle repaired and cleaned up. Harkon's rule has left it in disrepair, clearly."
"Your will be done, My Lady. However...while we can use the cattle as labor, the repairs will take materials and resources we simply do not have here on the island. They will have to be imported, purchased through vassals on the mainland. And Harkon did not leave our treasury all that full."
"Of course he didn't." Kisyra opened pouch at her belt and reached in. when she pulled her hand out, she had a dozen high-quality, flawless diamonds and a dozen other similarly perfect gems. "Will that cover the necessary costs?"
"I believe they will." He bowed. "I shall make the arrangements at once."
"See to it that you do." Kisyra turned away from Garan, her gaze going to Serana. Unwatched, the Dunmer Chancellor
"Now what?" Serana asked softly. Kisyra reached out a hand to Serana's cheek, caressing it gently with her fingers for a moment. Serana leaned into the touch without thinking, though wishing Kisyra had removed her glove first. Kisyra felt a moment of warmth in her as she moved her hand down to Serana's shoulder, resting it there.
"Now, I believe you owe me a forfeit."
Heartfire 7th, 4E 202
Bedroom, Castle Volkihar
The sheets lay tangled on the bed around the both of them, Kisyra resting her head against Serana's shoulder. The older – far older – vampire was running her fingers through Kisyra's hair, stroking it gently. "I should have known you'd be a screamer." She smiled. "Given how much of a shouter you are."
Kisyra laughed, the sound full of nothing but happiness. "Being able to use the Thu'um is unrelated to me being a screamer. I was the one long before I could use the other." Kisyra ran her tongue up Serana's neck, causing the other vampire to shiver in delight. Keeping her lips near Serana's ear, she whispered, "Besides, you seemed to like it when I screamed."
"Oh, I did." Serana agreed. "I wasn't complaining, believe me." She kissed Kisyra gently, still stroking the Dragonborn's hair. The two of them just laid there, silently enjoying the feeling of the others closeness, for nearly an hour.
Finally, Serana shifted a little so she could look Kisyra in the eye. "There's something I've wanted to ask – ever since we met really."
"Ask away." Kisyra offered.
"Why did you join the Dawnguard in the first place? I mean...you didn't exactly hesitate to accept my Father's offer of vampirism...you hardly leapt at the chance to kill me, a vampire, when we met, and you were already friends with the vampire in the Blue Palace- Sybille Stentor? You clearly didn't have much of an onus against vampires..."
"To be perfectly honest?" Kisyra asked but continued regardless. "I joined the Dawnguard because I was bored. Well, bored and curious."
"Curious about why there was an increase in vampire attacks...I can understand that, but bored? You decided to become a vampire hunter because you were bored? Its a risky hobby, Kisyra."
Kisyra laughed a moment at Serana's almost lecturing tone. "Serana, I killed Alduin. I had reason, then, to be cocky." She sighed, looking up at the ceiling a moment. "I'll admit, the months I spent working to defeat Alduin and end the dragon attacks...they left me something of an adrenaline junkie. Working in the Thieves Guild and the Dark Brotherhood during that time contributed to the problem as well. I figured joining the Dawnguard would give me something to do while I dodged recruitment pitches from the Legion and the Stormcloaks. Its a perk of the castle's location, I suppose, that neither side has gotten around to sending me anything here."
"So should I expect us to be off for more insane adventures, then soon?" Serana asked, her tone brooking no disagreement on the 'us' part of the equation.
"Nothing particularly dangerous, actually." Kisyra reached for a goblet on the near bedside table, the iron, bland taste of the castle's cattle's blood washing over her tongue, but sating a touch of hunger that had been rising in her. "Did I ever tell you why I came to Skyrim in the first place? Why I left the relative safety of Cyrodiil to walk into the middle of a freezing province consumed by civil war?"
Serana shook her head, wondering where this was going. "You didn't."
"I came to Skyrim to study the Dwemer." Kisyra explained. "I studied history at the Imperial University, in the capital, and the subject that always fascinated me the most was the Dwemer. Yes, Cyrodiil had the Ayleids, but we know what happened to them. We know more about them, their magics, their history. But the Dwemer...people have been studying them for over two thousand years and still haven't managed to figure them out." She caught a stray bit of blood from her lower lip. "I wanted to explore their ruins, their remnants for myself. Problem was, there's only three regions with any Dwemer ruins, and being an Imperial in Hammerfell or Morrrowind isn't exactly safe these days. So I figured, civil war or not, Skyrim was at least part of the Empire." Kisyra sighed. "I was on my way to Markarth, to study under Calcelmo."
"I had a letter of introduction from one of my teachers at the Imperial University – Thelwe Ghelein another name in the field - and that would have been my in." She continued, resting her head back on Serana's shoulder. "Unfortunately, I was just over the border when I got caught up in that ambush. The Legion decided that I was as Stormcloak too, and put me in line for the chopping block at Helgen." Doesn't stop Tullius from wanting my help now that I'm the most famous woman in the province.
"And that's when Alduin attacked." Serana noted. She'd heard this part of the story. Her hand resumed its previous stroking of Kisyra's hair, though more lightly this time.
"The one good thing that scaly bastard ever did, I suppose." She shrugged, no venom in her voice. "But after my arrest, my letter was confiscated...and it burned in the attack. As you can imagine, that left me rather option-less. I've been in a lot of Dwemer ruins since, even Calcelmo's excavation beneath Understone Keep, but without that letter..." She shook her head, not finishing the sentence. Serana didn't need her to – she could follow the logic, the tone of Kisyra's voice. In their two months together, they'd learned... "My fascination with the Dwemer is why I accepted you father's 'gift', you know? It wasn't the first time I'd given serious thought to becoming a vampire."
Without meaning to interrupt, Serana asked the question that rose unbidden to her lips. "What do you mean?" Serana shifted again to look directly at her.
"Like I said, we've been studying the Dwemer, ever since they vanished, for over two thousand years...we only know bits and pieces. A single mortal lifetime just isn't enough." She paused a moment before continuing with her thoughts. "I studied vampirism at the university, even getting my hands on some illegal texts on the subject. The problem is though...Porphyric Hemophilia and Sanguinare Vampiris... most of the time, when someone turns into a vampire from them, they lose control. They go feral...I didn't want that. Immortality wouldn't be useful if I didn't have control of myself. The disease is too unpredictable. But you...your father, the others in the Court. They all very clearly seemed to have control of themselves far more so than most vampires I'd seen. Immortality...and control of my own mind while having it. How could I not take the offer?"
Kisyra pressed a kiss to Serana's lips. "But I'll grant, you're a much more...enjoyable reason to have immortality."
Endnotes:
'Toorzahkrii', for those who don't have the dragon language lexicon memorized (a category that includes me), means Inferno Sword.
Thelwe Ghelein is the author of the three-volume series 'Dwemer Inquiries'. As it only appears in Skyrim, it seemed a safe assumption to me that he wrote those books sometime in the Fourth Era. There is no lore or canonical reason to assume he taught in the Imperial City, or wrote so close to when 'Skyrim' starts as to be available and alive then – indeed, we have little apart from his name – but since there's nothing against that, I'm saying that he did teach and was alive at least long enough to give Kisyra a letter of introduction to Calcelmo.
Given that most vampires in Skyrim and Oblivion attack you, the player, on sight, even if you've done nothing to arise that anger, I figure that it is safe to assume a largely feral status for many, if not most, standard afflictees of the vampire diseases.
