This was an idea of a different origin for the Dragonborn I had. I couldn't get it out of my head so I had to write it. I not sure if anyone else has tried this already. Anyway reviews and criticism are welcome.
Layla found herself staring at the dark stoned ceiling of Castle Volkihar during supper. She looked back at her goblet of blood. She took a sip as she looked around the dimly lit room. There were two long tables on each side of the massive hall with the head table sitting perpendicular to them. The whole room… no the entire castle oozed dark and evil. What else could one expect from a clan of vampires?
She sat on the left on right side toward the head were Orthjolf sat. The big brutish Nord was currently glaring at his nemesis, the High Elf, Vingalmo. She let out a bored sigh. When they first started their little war to overthrow Lord Harkon, it was amusing. As the century's rolled by, it just got monotonous because they never stopped trying to undermine each other. At first she found amusement by toying with them. She sabotaged their plans many times and they would instantly blame the other. It was fun until she realized that she was only adding to the problem and stopped.
She looked at the other side of her where Geran Merathi sat, the dark elf was currently looking over tasks which to assign the lesser court members while taking a sip from his own goblet. Geran was probably the only thing close to a friend she had in this place. While the others conspired against each other, Garen was one of the few who stayed out of politics and simply served Lord Harkon. He currently shook his and ran his fingers threw his blood red beard.
Layla then looked to see some the other members of the court enjoying their meals and talking amongst themselves… more like scheming she thought. Hestla, a nord woman and the castle blacksmith was boasting about her time in the Companions and how being here in this castle serving Lord Harkon was far better than trying to take the scraps the famous fighter's guild had given her. Feran Sadri, another dark elf and the castle alchemist was listening intently and trying to poke holes in the former Companion's stories.
Layla noticed that Harkon wasn't present and small wood elf had let his room carrying an empty tray, his hands shaking. Apparently, Lord Harkon took dinner in his room while obsessing over that stupid prophecy. Ronthil was a brown-noser, plain and simple. He would constantly ask the higher ranker vampires if he could be of assistance. It was annoying really, but Feran seemed to use him the most often when making potions. Grab this, and get that kind of stuff. Layla of course instilled a fear in him the few days after he first arrived. He has never gotten within five feet of her since if he didn't have to.
She leaned back and heard the clash of steel on wood as Fura Bloodmouth bashed a straw dummy with a sword. As the castle weapons master, she refused to be involved in politics as well. She was rather boring though. All she cared about was killing and that was all she talked about. It was rather tiresome after she spoke the woman for any length of time. Layla didn't know how her fellow Nord did it. How she went through life with such a single minded focus.
Layla herself was a Nord, auburn hair and pale skin, even paler since she turned. Being one of the original, or at least close to original members of the clan it was to be expected after all. She wasn't built like Hestla, not that it mattered much as vampires were very strong. She was smaller and more slender and beautiful than most. If anything becoming a vampire only added to it.
When Harkon was a mortal king in Atmora, her viper of a mother had tried to use her as way to move up the social ladder. While she didn't become Harkon's mistress like her mother intended, she did however get a position as Valerica's handmaiden, Harkon's wife. She sighed again, as thinking of Valerica brought forth thoughts of Valerica's daughter, Serana. Serana was beautiful and kind girl. Layla loved her, but the vampire princess only ever saw her as friend. It didn't help that Valerica was always watching her like a hawk whenever her daughter was around her. After Harkon became a vampire as well as Valerica and Serana. Valerica saw fit to reward Layla's service with the dark gift. She served loyally until the day Valerica disappeared taking Serana with her.
Layla needed to stop thinking about the old days, but it still hurt. The night Serana was taken,. Layla had planned to tell her how she really felt. She never got the chance. She got up and walked to Feran's alchemy room. She walked up the stairs where she found her enchanter in a small room that housed many soul gems of varying sizes. She had found her niche as the castle enchanter early on. The little scab, Ronthil was right about one thing, being useful was a good way to earn one's keep around the castle if you planned on being here long term. She knew things about enchanting that the world outside would die for to get their hands on. Of course she would venture the College of Winterhold to see if any breakthroughs were made every once in a while. In disguise of course, mage generally caught on quickly when she would cast a seduction spell upon them.
She heard someone enter. She turned around and saw Ronthil held a bundle of weapons and armor, that Hestla had made this morning. He sat set them in the corner and stood up, "Is there anything else you need Layla?" She didn't miss the quiver in his voice.
"No," was all she said before she dismissed him with a wave of her hand. He bolted from the room as she began her work. Each weapon and piece of armor was custom made for a particular court member. She was thankful for the amount of items she had to enchant. It would keep her busy for the rest of the day at least. She looked at the note that Hestla included as to see what enchantment each piece needed as she went.
…
As the years rolled by, and her monotonous routine became even more so. Her thoughts drifted to Serana more and more. One day she sat at the table, hoping that Serana would walk through the main doors and back into Layla's life. It was then she realized something, Serana is never coming back here. It was like getting smacked in the face by one of Hestla's warhammers. That left her one option. If Serana couldn't find her way back or did not wish to, Layla going to venture out and find her. It was not like she was terribly attached to this old decaying castle anyway or its inhabitants.
She stood up abruptly catching the attention of everyone in the room. They all stared at her. She gave a nod to Geran as she walked away from the table. She stopped by the armory, and gathered up supplies. Her armor consisted of studded leather armor with iron gauntlets and greaves. She donned an iron helm with goat horns sticking out either side to cover her eyes so the mortals could not mark her as undead straight off and to keep the sun off her head.
She grabbed a steel sword, and clipped its scabbard to her belt. She grabbed a glass dagger and placed in her boot. When she walked out everyone just looked at her funny. She gave a light wave and walked out the door. The cool Skyrim air greeted her as she walked down the castle ramp into the dingy that could get her across the harbor and to the mainland.
…
Skyrim hadn't changed much in since the first era after the Dragons were all killed. It was one the first things she figured out while exploring the land and seeing the people. She searched for clues to Serana's whereabouts and searched old ruins.
While searching the first ruin she had found an old word wall in the dragon tongue. She would have dismissed it if one of the words were not glowing. She remembered hearing strange chanting as she approached and was given an understanding of the word on a different level than before. She already knew the ancient tongue. She studied it back at the castle. This was different, like she felt its pulse more than its simple meaning.
While her search dragged on for a few years she had no idea that she was starting to build a reputation. Mostly she would trade what items she found inside the ruins at local villages. Soon word spread of new Ruin Delver, a successful one at that. As a vampire the attention was less than welcome, but because of her reputation people were more open to talk to her about locations of ancient Nordic burial sites. It was two sides of the same coin she guessed.
One day while passing through Dark Water crossing to reach Arcwind Point, she was caught in an ambush and captured along with some Stormcloaks by Imperial soldiers. She was knocked out quickly, and she woke in a cart heading toward the village of Helgen. She cursed herself for being so careless. However, that was when her day got really interesting.