Chapter Six

Eiryn found the prison very similar to the one in the city of Vivec, with the same narrow stone walls and the occasional guard milling around. Walls were comprised of wet stone and rusted metal bars with the tiny cells having little room except for a bedroll on the floor. Windows were practically non-existent. Sunlight could not find its way into the depths of darkness here. In short, this was a dreary place.

She hated to think Saber spent the past month here. But it didn't matter, she assured herself. Eiryn only wanted to find Saber and bring him home. She didn't even wait to speak to the guards. Nekros remained to deal with that, as she raced down the narrow hallway to the cells that lined either side.

"Saber?" She called, her voice echoing against the stone. The hallway seemed to go on forever with cell after cell of prisoners.

"Eiryn?" A voice called back from the end.

Breath caught the sob that nearly escaped her. She hurried to find him, pleased to find the gates were already unlocked. "Saber!" Eiryn gasped, seeing him in the half darkness of the windowless prison. "Oh b'vek I was so worried!"

Saber was just as she remembered him, though dressed in the typical rags of any prisoner. Hair was disheveled, and grim marred his otherwise handsome features. Her face lit up, her vision blurring as she fought to contain the happy tears. She raced into his arms. He's alive…He's alive and whole, she thought. Eagerly her mouth found his, kissing him passionately. Within moments she sensed something amiss. His body was stiff against hers.

Drawing back Eiryn blinked when she saw his eyes glowed eerily in the black. Not the usual red hue of his race, but something more sinister. "Saber..?"

He smiled, baring teeth. Long fangs glinted back the torchlight. The roguish grin turned feral, as he moved forward-

"No!"…

Eiryn bolted upright in the bed, gasping in fear. She looked around the ship's cabin, centering on the here and now. The dream faded, unraveling like tattered fabric, leaving her empty. Would that be what she'd find in the prison? No, of course not, she chided herself. He can't become a vampire because he was immune to the blood disease. The dream's meaning, however, was clear. He may have grown into what Nekros was in the month that had passed.

The woman curled up amid the covers, sobbing quietly until the dawn.

Nekros heard the call from one of the ship's crew they had arrived to port. He barely slept knowing what the day would bring. Most of the night, he kept busy with poisoning arrow heads, dabbing just enough of deadly toxin to the number of silver tipped fletching. The task kept his mind off things, or he had hoped. Instead, he found the task was hardly enough distraction to the edginess that vexed him at every turn.

Thoughts had nagged him of his behavior with the Breton woman. The cursed ethics he'd developed since attempting to transform Saber made him tense, and unaccustomed to feeling guilt made him moody as well, more so than usual. Where once he'd easily brush aside concern for others, now the task was difficult if not impossible. What made matters worse was that this was Eiryn.

Eiryn…

He had only caught a glimpse of her from afar all over the years. Upon first hearing of her, Nekros had been insanely jealous, perceiving her as a rival. From what he sensed in Saber, there was no hiding how much the Dunmer had adored the Breton woman. On one fateful occasion, Nekros decided to have her killed in order to push the Dunmer into despair, just enough so he'd willingly wish to be embraced. Even though he ended up using another woman made to look like Eiryn, and killing her instead, at the time, Saber was none the wiser. He witnessed Saber's reaction to losing her. He had been utterly lost. Nekros could now see why. There was a wild, untamed spirit about her person. As warm as the sun, and just as bright, she had that unaware beauty. The woman was intoxicating.

Furthermore, he knew these feelings were not entirely his own. So close to the woman the night before, feeling her warmth, catching her scent, nearly undid him. She was suddenly very familiar to him, as if he could almost remember nights of passion with her, how she kissed, even the tender stroke of caress. These feelings could not possibly be from his black heart but of the missing Dunmer's.

Nekros had never been a man of tender caresses. He'd been alone most of his life, denying of himself the privilege of friendship. He never knew what love meant. The world was a place of people to distrust, of those wanting to take advantage of you first chance they got. No one got close.

However, from touching Saber's feelings, he knew what he was now missing. People had told him what it was like, this feeling of love, but the vampire had no concept to make it tangible. Now in light of current events, this sense of love was palpable and real. Just being so close to Eiryn emphasized this, and her presence was more than a bit distracting. Perhaps this is what he'd always wanted from the elf; the same devotion the woman had for the Neveravine.

The vampire had known for years the elf would not willingly come to him. Plans to embrace him is what kept the thoughts of revenge sweet as an aged wine. He'd spent years hunting him down, with all the intent of eventually bringing him over to vampirism whether he wanted to or not. He still couldn't accept he'd failed. What's more, he couldn't accept that Saber was still no longer his.

What surprised the vampire is his wanting Saber still, even after the elf had 'killed' him so many years ago. For all purposes, he should've ripped him apart, should've made him pay for slicing his throat. Instead, he found he missed him, craved his presence with him once again. For so many years, Saber had been everything to him; son, apprentice, and only companion…

Enough, Nekros stopped that thought, cleaning up the area to which he'd chosen to work. There was no point in wasting thought on that anymore. Saber had made his choice. And that choice was not me. Nekros often wondered why he didn't just kill him. Why let her have him, if I can't? But he knew why; Saber was his weak spot, the chink in his otherwise impenetrable armor.

Rousing his servants, he remained abrupt with both of them. He reminded himself daily their relationship was one of convenience and that was all that it would ever be. Neither could begin to compare to the Nerevarine. The one, Frande, perhaps had considered something more. He'd often mention wanting to join his blood, to become a vampire. Though both had been worthless mercenaries to start with, feeding on them had proven enthralling to their weaker wills. Their wanting to join him wasn't unexpected. Nekros knew he'd never let them be anything but food to him.

Dressed in noble finery, Nekros stepped out onto the deck with his usual flair. Clothes were of pale blues and greens, satins and dyed suede. Armor was non existent. He had no use of such things being as powerful as he was. Only a hooded cloak guarded him from the light drizzle of rain that fell. Clouds obscured the sun, making the vampire feel a bit more at ease. Even knowing the magical rings that allowed him to walk during daylight couldn't shake a sense of dread every time he stepped out onto the day.

He adjusted the sword strapped to his hip, while looking for the Breton woman across the deck. Instead, he found the crew of the Spellsong busying themselves with mooring the ship at port.

"Your captain…" He spoke to the large Orc who continued to tie off a sail without looking up. "Where is she?"

"I believe she is still within her cabin." Came the gruff reply. The yellow gaze refused to look at him. "Perhaps you can check there-"

Nekros had a sense when people lied. It was in the subtle body language, a change in heart beat, and in this one, the inability to look one in the eye. He fumed in barely contained anger. "She's gone to the city hasn't she?" Of course she would go on without him. After the night before, Eiryn would most likely feel no obligation to the likes of him. Silently cursing his own temper, the vampire motioned to his servants they were to stay on board the ship. She'd be able to find the prison by herself by simply asking for directions. Damn her-

He began to stride in earnest to find her before she reached Saber.

To a Breton scout accustomed to the rural areas of Vvardenfell, the Imperial City was a place of impressive architecture and living history. Insurmountable walls guarded the city in one large circle, having the royal palace at its center. There, a soaring tower that reached to the very heavens, stretching towards the clouds in defiance of the pallid day. Gray stone comprised of most of the buildings, each like a sentinel at attention along the streets of cobblestone. Statues of ancient heroes and gods dotted through the various sections of the city, intermixed with gardens and shops.

So this is where Saber grew up…Eiryn remembered him telling her now and then of his past, of growing up in Cyrodil. It was this thought that prevented her from enjoying the city as much as she would on any other occasion. Saber needed her, and she took a risk by leaving Nekros behind. No doubt, he'd be furious. After last night, however, she wanted to avoid him. She kept to the task at hand, focusing on making her way to the Imperial prison.

The prison district, as she discovered, was located to the far northeast of the city, sitting just outside the main walls. A long bridge of stonework separated the prison from the city, placing this on its own island of sorts. Once past the first set of massive doors, the young Breton found herself staring up at another tall tower. This was one was similar to the main tower of the city but not as lofty.

The inner courtyard housed the guardsman and an armory, with huge gates to keep the prisoners safe within their confinement. Bracing herself, Eiryn entered the Bastille to find a large circular room with a man reading at a desk at its center. To either side, a short stairwell led to locked doors, and a third door, no doubt also locked, sat behind this jailor.

"Yes?" The elderly man spoke, seeing her arrival. He was an aged man, rough at the edges with a permanent look of suspicion etched in his face. He appeared bored, sifting through the paperwork of his station.

Swallowed against her suddenly dry throat, Eiryn ruffled courage. "I'm looking for a prisoner…" She told him, "He was brought in almost a month ago-"

"Name?" The jailor said, pulling out a pile of weathered parchment.

His name…. Surely, when brought here he'd be given a false name. He also wouldn't know his own identity… "He would be under an alias…" Eiryn shifted uneasily, wondering if perhaps she should've brought Nekros along. "A Dunmer from Morrowind-"

"What were his charges?" The man didn't even look up from his lists.

"I believe they were murder."

To this the man straightened, sitting back in his chair. Slowly he replaced his sheets, giving her a strange look. "Madam…murder is a crime that is justly punishable with execution."

"But I don't-"

"And if you say he was brought in a month ago-"

She shook her head. "No, you don't understand." Hadn't Nekros told her he was alive?

"I'm sorry madam. We never hold prisoners from execution." He seemed understanding to her dilemma. "With all the excitement of the Emperor's assassination, there's a slight possibility of error, but honestly we have only one Dunmer in the prison now and he's not from Morrowind."

"Can...can I see him?" Eiryn began to feel the edges of desperation take hold. Doubt of Nekros' word also battled against common sense. Had he tricked her with some story of Saber only to get a free ride to Cyrodil? She felt stupid. Hadn't Saber told her on numerous occasion he was a liar and manipulator?

The man gave a soft sigh, soon followed by a reluctant nod. She followed the jailor down the short flight of steps, watched him undo the locks and step aside to let her pass. "I will have to stay with you of course."

Eiryn nodded, feeling her chest tighten at the darkness below. Only torchlight gave any light, with the empty sound of echoes against stone filled her senses. She tried to not seem rushed, tried to hide the shaking of her hands as she hurried below to see the prisoners.

Caged doors lined the narrow hallway, and the first cell housed the Dunmer in question. Immediately she knew this wasn't Saber. He had a shock of white hair, with an evil glint in his eyes as he caught sight of them

"Ah guests!" The man snickered, moving closer to the bars. "And such a pretty thing too-"

"Shut your mouth, Vareth." The jailor snapped. "Or I will shut it for you."

Vision blurred as tears threatened to spill. Eiryn shook her head, "That's not him-" She sucked in a shaky breath, muttering a quick thank you to the warden. "I'm sorry to have troubled you-"

"That's alright, it's really no trouble-." He seemed apologetic, but she was already turning to leave. Her feet simply couldn't take her quick enough out of this place, and as she burst through the doors into the drizzling rain and gray sky, she choked back a sob.

Dead….he was dead. She barely heard the guards call after her of their concern before she ran through the second set of doors. What a fool I was to trust Nekros! Saber is gone…Just as she was midway across the stone bridge, a voice from someone approaching called to her. The ragged voice was too familiar.

"Eiryn!"

Nekros! Grief and desperate sorrow soon transformed to blinding rage. She continued to head straight for him, and the tight expression on his face showed he was not happy she left without him. This only goaded her anger more. As he came in range, she flew at him. All the pent up fear, sorrow, and grief was unequivocally directed to the vampire who caused all this pain.

"You lied to me!" She shrieked, fists flying. He easily dodged the first blow before managing to grab her by the wrists, after that it was all he could do to contain her enough to protect himself. "You conniving, sniveling bastard! You led me all the way here only to find out he's dead!"

"Stop it!" He snarled back, forcibly shoving her away. This only served to give her time to vault a second attack. This time, he was prepared and each strike was easily blocked. "Listen to me-!"

"I wont listen to your lies, you bastard!" The woman was crying now, daring to withdraw her blade. Part of her knew she was taking a terrible risk to fight him, but she no longer cared. Too overwhelmed with grief marred her common sense. "I shouldn't have listened to you. You lie! You always lie. You only wanted to use me like you use everyone else!"

Nekros had no choice but to draw out his own defense. "Of course I used you," He spat back at her, matching her temper. "And you best reconsider taking me on-"

Eiryn gave him no chance to speak as she advanced. Part of her hoped to catch the upper hand in catching him off guard. The first thrust was powered with anger and pain she hadn't been able to express until now. The crossing of blades was quick and defined. He moved incredibly fast with such force that she stood no chance. Her sword went flying over the bridge's edge to the valley below. Now unarmed, she stared back at the deadly blade now pointed at her. Still angry and undeterred, she bolted to the end of the walkway to try to reach her sword lay on the ground below.

Nekros, however, simply stepped onto the edge to jump the distance below, thereby reaching the fallen blade before she could even reach it. From that height, a fall would've killed a human. From higher on the hill, she cursed him. Having no other choice, Eiryn felt a good retreat might be in order. She began to head towards the natural areas of the island, moving legs as fast as they could carry her.

A sudden blast of….something hit her from behind, knocking off her feet and sending her sprawling ahead. Her head barely missed a rock. The sudden wave of weariness told her he'd hit her with magick. Cursing her stupidity, she fumbled for a dagger at her belt. She'd not go without a fight!

"Dammit, woman!" A growling voice soon hovered above her. "I never said he was in the prison!"

She found her hand could barely keep a grip on the dagger, but she knew the weapon would be useless anyway. Eiryn was beaten. She lay staring up at Nekros, expected him to impale her without a thought. A last show of her temper could only be in the form of words. "You are a liar!"

Nekros kept the point of his blade close to her throat in order to keep her still. "Yes, that is what I do." He sneered. "But you knew that when you took me on board your lovely ship. Be that as it may, I didn't lie about Saber. He is alive."

"Stop it!" She snapped at him. "Just stop it! If you hadn't been such a heartless bastard, then Saber might have stayed with you, or at the least forgiven you! But no, you have to always play these games, toying with others just for amusement-" The point of the sword was pressed into soft flesh, prodding her back into silence. A trickle of blood dripped down her neck.

"Not….another….word…." Nekros told her almost shaking in barely contained rage. Her words hit too close to the truth, and he'd known for years now that if he had raised Saber differently, he never would've lost the only thing in his life that was important to him. "I am many things, dear lady, as you said. I'm a liar, murderer, …monster…but I did not…lie about Saber." Eyes narrowed. "But this is neither here nor there. I came here to find his trail, to find where he'd gone."

She swallowed, hoping he'd not impale her. "They told me he's dead. He was executed."

"They are wrong." His gaze remained unwavering, his conviction clear.

The thought only then occurred to her that perhaps the vampire was holding back his own grief of losing the Dunmer. Perhaps Nekros could no longer endure the thought of his death. He could very well be in denial.

The vampire backed off, letting her the space to get to her feet. The spell he'd used against her had faded, but she still felt weak as a baby. "We're done, if that is your choice." He continued to tell her, ignoring her glare as she wiped blood from the light nick he left on her throat. His gaze softened, but only briefly. "You should go back to Morrowind. Go home."

Back to Morrowind…to home? The idea galled her. What home was there without Saber? These past few weeks had been empty and void of everything that held any meaning to her. Everything reminded her of Saber, from waking up to an empty bed to sunrises watched alone. Her hopes had risen too high only to be dashed, and yet Nekros was still insistent that Saber was alive somewhere. "Saber is my home." Eiryn murmured,

The grief she felt was reflected back in amber eyes. "Then go back to your ship." he told her. "I'll find out what I can."

Eiryn stared back unsure to what she should decide. For all practical purposes, she should return to Morrowind and be done with this whole affair. But he believes he's alive…there was no mistaking that. And if there is that slight chance, however small. I must know one way or the other. Disgusted with her desperate need to find him alive, she relented.

"And Eiryn?" Nekros called to her as she headed back to the Waterfront. She turned to see him wiping the tip of his blade with bare fingers. Oddly, he stared at her blood on fingertips not even looking at her when he spoke again. "If you ever draw a blade against me again, I will kill you."

The words were a statement of fact, as certain as if the sun would rise the next day, or the grass was green. Nekros was not a man of idle threats to intimidate. He spoke plaintively, wanting to be sure she understand what she was up against. A shudder of fear ran down her spine. Unable to find any response, she turned and walked away.

I don't know why exactly but this chapter seemed to take me forever to type out. I changed things several times before finally deciding on what you find here. From simply lacking any eloquence to being unable to type out a sentence there for a time, I finally got this out. Enjoy!