A/N: Chapter 2 of my Skyrim story, and I'm liking it a lot. I don't get how I'm gonna do a love triangle, since in my experience three-way relationships never work out, but…

Shadows of the Heart

Summary: Alana was shaken after being betrayed time after time by the people closest to her thanks to her misfortune. Yet she keeps getting pushed into trying to open up by the seductively dangerous leader of the Dark Brotherhood.

*Broken Mirror*

Astrid raised an eyebrow as Nazir handed her the report from Riften. "Here, Astrid. I have the full report from Riften hold. Thought you might like to read it yourself; it's rather interesting, if you ask me." The Redguard had a look of bewilderment upon his face, and a hint of an emotion Astrid had never seen in his dark eyes. It was fear, and the fact that Nazir was scared of something intrigued her deeply.

"Thank you, Nazir. You may go." The blonde waved her hand in dismissal, and as Nazir left, she opened up the roll of parchment. "Hmm…a Nightingale? Believed to be a female vampire. No full physical description. Interesting, indeed." 'I've heard rumors about a Nightingale Dunmer residing outside of Riften, but nothing about a vampire. I need to do a little investigating on this one. Girl would really make a very good addition to the Family; not many people can walk right into a heavily guarded city like Riften, kill a hag in her own orphanage, and then leave unscathed.' Astrid rolled the parchment back up, and she walked towards her werewolf husband, Arnbjorn. "Arnbjorn, you're in charge while I go out; I have some investigating to do."

Arnbjorn looked up from his workbench, and he nodded gruffly. "Sure. Good luck." The Nordic woman could see the yellow starting to return in his eyes, and she knew a transformation was close. 'Hmph. If the rumor about the woman being a vampire is true, then Arnbjorn might be pretty mad; vampires and werewolves have never gotten along.' She had noticed a bit of a falling out between her and her husband, ever since the report of Grelod the Kind being butchered in her own orphanage reached their ears in Falkreath. He was angrier than usual, which was saying something; the werewolf was almost always short-tempered.

Astrid walked out of the Sanctuary, the Blade of Woe on her belt, and she strutted towards the shadowy pool outside. "Shadowmere, come." The legendary horse of the Dark Brotherhood appeared, his glowing red eyes blinking, and he let out a neigh as he reared up on his hind legs in approval upon seeing his mistress. Astrid raised her hand to pet his black mane affectionately before climbing up into the saddle, tapping his hindquarters. "We're heading to the Rift. I hope you're up for a long trek." 'It'll take us a few hours. Not to mention Riften is on high alert after the attack. It's pretty remarkable that no one has found that woman; she practically doesn't exist.'

Shadowmere set off on a steady trot, and Astrid watched as a crow landed on a tree branch, its golden eyes staring at her intensely. Shadowmere stirred, and he let out a snort at the black bird. His hooves dug into the ground, and he neighed before rearing up, nearly throwing the Nord off his back. "Easy boy! What's wrong!?" 'He doesn't act like this unless someone else is close to him! Why would a crow make him aggressive?'

The crow cawed softly, and it flew away in a flurry of black feathers. Once it was gone, Astrid looked down at her steed. "What's wrong with you? Why would some dusty old crow make you throw a fit?" 'Surely that crow wasn't a shape-shifter? But no one has that power. Besides, who would want to turn into a bad luck bird?'

The blonde tapped Shadowmere's flanks, and the horse shook his head before setting off again, this time at a quicker pace. 'Wonder why he did that. Normally, Shadowmere is always calm around other animals, even if he's not like them.' "Come on; I want to reach our overnight halt in Ivarstead before it gets too late. The Brotherhood's luck will finally turn around." 'It's not like the Nightingale I'm looking for is going to run off anywhere; she loves her little hideout just outside Riften.'

The stories she knew about the Nightingales were shrouded in mystery; they were supposedly guardians of the Daedric mistress Nocturnal, and only the highest ranked members of the Thieves Guild were aware of them. But the Guild was now in ruins thanks to a violent uprising within its own ranks that left everyone dead and all the treasure missing. 'Even I was shocked to find out the Guild was destroyed. The Ragged Flagon was as busy as the Imperial City a few months ago.'

The first town after leaving Falkreath, Helgen, was recently repaired following the dragon attack. It had better defenses and more of the higher skilled Stormcloak soldiers patrolling its streets, making an ideal place to live again. But when Astrid reached the town, her jaw dropped in horror at the sight in front of her. "By Sithis…what the hell happened!?"

The town was completely destroyed, and dozens of burnt corpses littered the streets. The remaining buildings were alight with flames, and the blonde dismounted her horse to approach a wounded Stormcloak soldier leaning against the remains of a house. Blood was leaking from a nasty gash in his side, and he coughed up a mouthful of scarlet. His sword was shattered, the blade in pieces, and his shield was nothing more than a thousand splinters of wood.

"What happened? Who killed all of these people?" Astrid demanded, her dagger drawn.

The soldier stopped coughing, and he managed to gasp out a reply. "Vampires…a whole band of them. And as if it could sense the panic and smell fresh prey…"

He coughed again, pointing towards a large tail buried underneath a pile of rubble, and Astrid knew what he meant. "A dragon…" 'By Sithis...a pack of vampires did this? There's not a single soul left alive.'

The soldier nodded, and he let his head sink down, his last breath leaving his body. Astrid stood up, and she climbed onto Shadowmere's back, snapping the reins. "Come on; we should keep moving before another dragon comes along." 'Unbelievable. And Helgen was one of the better defended towns, too. Damned undead bastards.' A murder of crows was circling overhead, cawing excitedly at the smell of dead flesh, and they swooped down to feast eagerly upon the dead.

"So much for hoping for a smooth ride…" she muttered as her horse took off again, this time in a full gallop. Thanks to his immortality, he had incredible stamina; he could run across an entire hold without needing a break, unlike lesser horses. Shadowmere let out a snort as a bear roared from the mountains above, and Astrid leaned down to stroke his mane. "Carry on. We'll deal with it later; we don't exactly have the time to dance with one." 'I surely hope Ivarstead is still standing. But after what just happened to Helgen…'

The small town began to appear in the distance, and to the blonde's relief, it was still in one piece from the look of things. Being directly underneath the old citadel of High Hrothgar, it was frequent for the sound of thunder to echo from the mountain, even if no rain clouds were in sight. Astrid dismounted Shadowmere again, letting him pace outside, and she walked into the inn, passing a drunken old man who looked at her slender frame with hazy eyes. "Well, hello gorgeous."

The blonde ignored him, and she strode over to the innkeeper, a tall redheaded Nordic man. He placed a flagon of ale down, looking at the leader of the Dark Brotherhood curiously. "Um…you aren't here for just a drink, aren't you?"

Astrid shook her head, and she took a seat, folding her hands. "No. I'm looking for information. Being an innkeeper, you're a good bet. Do you know anything about a vampiric Nightingale?" 'This is the closest town to Riften. If she decided to stick around the Rift, then he'll know.'

"Not much, I'm afraid," the man admitted, turning to polish a beautifully crafted mirror that rested behind the counter. "Last I heard about her, she had slaughtered that old hag Grelod in broad daylight. After that, she just vanished. It's as if she doesn't exist. Whoever she is, she is damn good at covering her tracks; not even the best spies in the Stormcloak army can find her, and half of Skyrim is on high alert."

Astrid heard a small tapping noise from the window, and she turned to see a crow with brilliant golden eyes like the one in Falkreath outside. "What the hell?" 'Isn't that the same crow I saw when Shadowmere and I left the Sanctuary? What's it doing here?' The crow tilted its head, and it cawed, hopping towards a nearby tree. 'Once is a coincidence. Twice, and someone's trying to say something.'

She heard the shattering of glass, and she whirled around to see the innkeeper had broken the mirror that was behind him. He let out a groan as he crouched down to collect the shards, the edges cutting into his hands and drawing blood. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me. Talk about having bad luck, huh? I'm going to be unlucky for years to come now; breaking a mirror is almost as bad as seeing a black cat."

Astrid pushed away from the bar, and she saw a black-haired woman enter. She had an unusual set of armor on, with a short cape at the back, and her eyes were golden like a vampire's. 'Surely it's not her? But she doesn't look like a Nightingale; they wore some kind of armor that was known as forged midnight.' The blonde leader strode towards her, snapping her fingers to order a glass of whiskey. "Excuse me. I'm hoping you can help me…find someone."

The vampire took a sip of her own drink, a bottle of mead, and she gave her a look through exhausted eyes. "I'm not interested. Besides, isn't information more in line with your kind of work?"

Astrid let the remark pass, and she traced her finger around the rim of her glass several times. "I'm looking for the Nightingale responsible for the death of Grelod the Kind."

The vampire stopped dead, and her eyes started to burn with venom as her fangs extended. "What do you want with her?"

Her hand was resting on an Elven Dagger, and Astrid smirked at the fiery reaction. "Oh, nothing bad. I'm quite impressed with her feat. But you see…the Aventus boy was trying to contact me and my associates. So she owes me a kill." 'These cursed rules are getting a little annoying. We're assassins, not some naughty schoolchildren.'

The woman scoffed, motioning towards the window. "She's been aware of someone looking for her for awhile." She downed her mead, placing the bottle down, and wiped her chin. "I'm sure you've seen her, and thought nothing of what just happened with the innkeeper's mirror. Just a bit of bad luck, eh?"

Astrid turned around to see the crow grooming its glossy black feathers, and the blonde watched it peck the glass three times with its beak before flying off towards Falkreath. 'No way. This vampire has to be pulling my leg here. There's no way that the Nightingale who everyone is looking for is some dusty crow.'

The vampire stood up, stretched her arms, and threw the barmaid a few septims. "I'll be on my way. If you really want to try and induct her into your family…well, you'll know your answer in a day or so. I'm not speaking for her." She walked out, and Astrid quickly downed her whiskey in an attempt to possibly shadow her. 'They probably reside somewhere in Falkreath, but nowhere with people nearby. It's clever; no one would think to look in the mountains overlooking the city itself, as that's only home to bandits.'

The leader of the Dark Brotherhood left the inn, only to see the vampire had vanished. "What the hell? Where did she go?" 'Not a trace of anything. But how could she just disappear so quickly? I only left thirty seconds after her.' She could spot a lone black wolf stalking a drunken beggar, and Shadowmere's red eyes glared in the predator's direction as it sank its fangs into the man's leg, dragging him down before he could even recognize he was attacked. He went to yell out when it bit again, silencing him, and the wolf started to drag the body away with a certain swagger in its step. 'Well, I'll be going to Nightingale Hall outside of Riften for more information tomorrow. I might as well get some sleep.'

'And what the hell is up with Shadowmere? He really keeps acting strange.'

Alana landed with a pant outside the cavern her and Serana made their home in, sweat pouring down her face. It had been awhile since she flew that hard, and her back was sore from the effort of tracking the blonde woman from Falkreath to Ivarstead and flying back. 'So, I have the Dark Brotherhood looking for me as well. Even a person who doesn't exist is on their wanted list.'

"Aw, what's the matter? You can't handle having some beautiful assassin following you?" Mephala smirked. "You're a damn fine killer, if you ask me. Why not get paid for it? It's not like you're good at anything other than taking the lives of others." Alana's hands balled into fists, and she let out a slow hiss. "Shut. Up." 'Just go away and leave me the hell alone!'

"Accept your fate, dearest. You're the broken mirror that terrorizes Skyrim," Mephala laughed. "You might as well use your little bad luck charms to bring in the gold. The Brotherhood would love to have you within their ranks. Just think about it; the girl who brings misfortune to others helps the Dark Brotherhood rise up in Tamriel once again. It's almost storybook." The constant tormenting was starting to drive the blonde vampire insane, and she could feel her back starting to quiver as her anger at the Daedra made her want to change into her Vampire Lord form. She was a very powerful one, having a variety of abilities lesser vampires could only dream about, but she hated the transformations; they caused a massive amount of pain, and sometimes, it was easier to deal with the damn dragons without turning into a gargoyle-like monster. 'No. Calm down…don't think about the sweet taste of blood as it flows over your tongue.'

Alana was about to swing her sword at the presence behind her when Serana entered, dragging the limp and barely alive body of a drunken man from Ivarstead. Judging by the smell, the man had drank over a gallon's worth of whiskey in the span of an hour. The black wolf seemed quite pleased with her catch, and Alana felt her razor sharp fangs grow at the sight of the soft tender skin of the man's throat. 'When was my last proper feed? I can't remember.' Having undergone the incredibly painful ritual for Lord Molag Bal to become a Daughter of Coldharbour after killing Serana's father, her blood was as pure as Serana's, despite having been given Harkon's.

Serana dropped the body in front of her before reverting her form, and she let out a sigh as the sun finished dropping behind the horizon. "Well…the leader of the Dark Brotherhood wants to have a chat. Said something about you owing her a kill."

Alana crouched down to drink, and her golden eyes began to shine as the rich flavor flowed over her tongue. It was sweet, tainted by the liquor the cattle had consumed, and she removed her lips from his throat. "…why?"

"Because Grelod the Kind was a Dark Brotherhood contract, and you stole their kill from them," Serana replied. "It's a debt you have to repay, otherwise they'll hunt us down. And I should warn you; they are the deadliest assassins in Tamriel. She's still in Ivarstead, if you care to discuss it."

Alana walked to her dresser, pulling out a set of new clothes, and started to disrobe herself. "…I'm not proud of what I do. Most times, I don't even need to draw my sword." 'My bad luck does most of the work.' She found out about her ability to bring misfortune during the Battle for Solitude, when the ceiling of the Castle Dour collapsed and nearly crushed Ulfric Stormcloak as he killed Legate Rikke. If it weren't for Alana pushing him out of the way, he could've possibly died.

Her new clothing wasn't remotely close to armor; it was a dark red button-up jacket with coattails, her torn Nightingale cape, glossy black leggings, and thigh boots. She put her Amulet of Talos around her neck, making sure her cape was properly tied, and picked up her Ebony sword Its blade gleamed like a sliver of midnight, and it seemed almost eager to meet the blood of any opponent. With her crafting skill, it was possibly the deadliest sword in her arsenal, having a fire enchantment from her time in the Stormcloak army on top of it being a legendary cut.

The blonde placed her sword in a sheath across her lower back, and she looked at Serana as the vampire started to feed on their catch. "How does this look?" 'Not even close to armor. But with the weight of this sword, anything other than clothing would be too much to carry. Not that I care about getting hit…'

"Pretty damn good," Serana replied, wiping a drop of blood from her lips. "I take it you saw what happened to Helgen. Did anything strike out as out of the ordinary to you?"

Alana nodded, pulling the twisted dagger she found in Helgen out from her Nightingale armor, soaked with blood of her fellow Nords who were sent to guard the town. "This. It's a Blade of Sacrifice. There's only one cult who uses these." 'Boethiah. It's her declaring war on Nocturnal. But the Twilight Sepulcher was destroyed by Brynjolf after he tried to kill me. I've failed in my duty as a Nightingale.'

"It can't be…that cult was wiped out a month ago by order of High King Ulfric," Serana whispered. "Boethiah's serious this time."

She took the twisted dagger from the blonde's hands, and as she observed its length, Alana let out a depressed sigh, leaning against the rocky wall of their cavern. "Serana…I wanted to ask you something. Why do you stand with me? You know that I cause misfortune wherever I go, and yet you stay by my side. Why? And please…be honest."

"The honest reason? Well…it's because I don't care about it," Serana admitted. "The only person to ever show they cared about me in who knows how many hundred years is you. I followed you into the Soul Cairn itself. There's no one else I would rather have by my side in that forsaken place. And…I love you."

Alana's eyes watered, and she let her head sink. "How can you say that? After the things I've done? How can you still stand to even look at me?"

Her shoulders shook, and Serana walked over to her, wrapping her arms around her in a tight embrace. "Your past doesn't define who you are. It just gives you the starting point for who you're going to be."

She gave the blonde a kiss on the cheek, and ran a hand through her hair. "You know…we should both join the Brotherhood. We'd be safer there; no one can enter their Sanctuary without the correct passphrase."

Alana wiped her eyes, and she took a breath to calm herself down. "You really think we'd be better off that way?"

"Yes. If anyone tried anything, they'd be slaughtered instantly; the Brotherhood doesn't exactly take kindly to traitors within their ranks," Serana pointed out.

Alana sighed, and she broke apart from the embrace to start heading outside. "If you think this is our best chance…then I'll consider it; I can't stand forcing you to hide in the shadows." ' I'd rather be dead than force her to live like this.'

She walked towards the entrance of their cavern, looking back at the one person who still cared for her. "Serana…thank you. I'll do what I can to get us both in." 'That's my only request. I want her to get somewhere safe, where she doesn't have to worry about finding food or whether the Stormcloaks are waiting to ambush her.'

'And I love her, too.'

Nightingale Hall

Astrid looked at the unusual black marking on the stone, and she dismounted Shadowmere, her muffled boots not making a sound as she landed on the ground. 'Finally. It took a while to get here; I hope that Dunmer is still inside.' Typically, no one apart from the Nightingales was allowed within the hall, but being the leader of a Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary had its perks.

She approached the hidden door, only to stop as she heard a slight rustling behind her. It sounded a lot like a cape dragging against the leaves, and the blonde whirled around, drawing her dagger. Once she saw who the person approaching was, though, she slid her weapon into its sheath and folded her arms across her chest. "So…it's about time we met. You must be the Nightingale I've heard so much about."

The woman was a blonde Nord like her, but she wasn't wearing quite what Astrid expected. Instead of the forged midnight armor that the Nightingales typically wore, she had adorned a dark red coattail jacket and glossy black leggings with boots that reached her thighs. Her long cape had tears in it, and an Amulet of Talos was worn around her pale neck. Her weapon was a beautifully crafted Ebony sword, and Astrid found herself looking into the woman's golden eyes. 'Hmm…she's quite the looker, even for a vampire.'

The blonde vampire didn't answer immediately, keeping her silence, and Astrid raised an eyebrow at her seemingly quiet nature. "I take your lack of denial as a yes. You do exist after all, which is far more than can be said for that old hag Grelod. Don't take that as a complaint; it was a damn good kill, and you saved a bunch of urchins to boot. But there is a slight problem, which I'm sure you're aware of." 'The way she carries herself…hmm, she looks as though she could rival even dear old Lucien Lachance in battle. That kind of skill hasn't been seen in the Brotherhood for years.'

"…who do you want me to kill?" the vampire whispered, hints of pain in her soft tone. The sorrow in her golden gaze suggested that death was something that was delivered by her hand far too often, and she was borderline reluctant to do the deed. She let out a soft hiss, her sharp fangs extending as she glanced over her shoulder, and Astrid was aware of a heavy, almost malignant presence in their midst. 'Something doesn't seem right.'

But, as quickly as it appeared, the presence vanished, and the leader of the Dark Brotherhood leaned against the stony entrance to Nightingale Hall. "Well…funny you should ask. I have a contract that my associates and I haven't had the time to complete. A certain woman by the name of Carlotta Valentina has performed the Black Sacrament and wants the Brotherhood to kill a certain snobbish bastard by the name of Nazeem in Whiterun. You kill him, and your debt to me is satisfied. In fact, I want to observe and admire." '

"…very well," the vampire replied quietly. She glanced at Shadowmere, the horse snorting, and drew her sword, the blade shining brightly in the night. "I'll meet you in Whiterun." To Astrid's surprise, the blonde woman transformed into a crow and flew away, leaving only a pair of shiny feathers on the ground. 'She's a shapeshifter? So it was her in Falkreath. It's perfect; no one would think twice about seeing a dusty bird.'

"Come on Shadowmere. We have a very interesting potential candidate for our Family."

A/N: Next up, Alana joins the Brotherhood for good by making her kill. Next chapter will contain some action between Alana and Serana, so expect some good shit lol. Till then!