Des get's back from her adventures in the Heartfire-expansion. How will her return be recieved after all that time?

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Enjoy!

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Chapter 10

~.o.O.o.~

I couldn't go back to Jorrvaskr... They would smell my corruption, and I would bet my entire fortune that they would attack first and ask questions later. I couldn't risk having to hurt them before getting a chance to explain. My only chance now was the faint hope that Lydia would be able to come to terms with my predicament and not be a too hard a judge. It was, after all, not something I had willingly chosen. It had been a decision born out of need in the face of utter disaster.

"You're a... a vampire?" My housecarl said in a slightly disbelieving huff, looking pale and understandably nervous while rubbing her forehead.

"Yes." was the only answer I could muster as I sat ramrod straight and unnaturally still in front of her in the cozy kitchen of Breezehome. The fire felt extraordinary warm to my now constantly chilled skin and I relished in the feel of it. I was finally cold-resistant but it came with a terrible prize and with all facts on hand, I would rather be my old cold-susceptible self again. My unnerving yellowish gaze flickered from the fire over to the woman sitting across from me, appraising her reaction.

"How does that even… work…?" Lydia met my gaze with her wary one. She looked ready to leap into action should I decide to try anything and I silently cursed my fool brethren for their inability for self-control and empathy. Their way of looking down on anything not Vampiric, treating humans like cattle was the major reason the war had broken out in the first place. Too many vampires was stuck in their archaic believes of superiority, just like the Thalmor. And from that ignorance. That unwillingness to adapt and change sprung fear and hate.

It was possible to coexist. I knew it, Serana knew it and even Serana's stuck-up mother, Valerica, knew it. It all came down to how you fed and how you treated people around you. Live and let live. Much like being a werewolf really.

"You mean the feeding?" Lydia nodded slowly at this and her features became stained in disgust at the thought. I sighed heavily, averting my gaze to once again get lost in the dancing flames of the crackling fire pit.

"Bandits, necromancers and the occasional willing donor mostly." I stated glumly, hearing the scoff at the end of the sentence.

"Willing? Why would anyone willingly become a meal for a… a… monster?!" Lydia exclaimed in disgusted anger and I felt my heart drop into the pit of my stomach as I closed my eyes.

That outburst hurt, but, I needed to be tactical about this. If even Isran could see reason despite his strong convictions, Lydia should also be able to. She just needed to work through the initial shock. At least that's what I told myself to keep from bolting out the door from fear of having to hurt my friend. Because to me, she was still an invaluable friend, just like Marcurio who hadn't even flinched about my predicament. I would have asked him for help had I the heart to rip him away from his family. Instead I had gifted him and Aegis the house in Falkreath, as a late wedding present and asked them to take over the care of Lucia and Sophie.

My mind returned to the present and I looked over at my stubborn housecarl.

"Would you not help a dying friend? Would you not give food from your plate to a starving man? How is donating some blood for the same reason any different?" I reasoned as calmly as I was able. Irritation and bitterness still seeping into my voice at the end.

Lydia snorted as she rose from her chair to start pacing. She was agitated and I could smell the anger as well as the hint of fear coming off her. But she stayed quiet, contemplating. It was a start.

I warmed my hands over the flames again, careful not to get close enough to get burned since I was now weak against those mesmerizing lights.

"You're right." I was startled by the sudden rush of words out of my housecarl's mouth. She was still agitated and nervous, but she was looking at me with less distain now when my strange yellow gaze once again found hers.

"If what you've told me is the truth, and I don't know you to lie, you couldn't help this anymore than becoming the Dragonborn. I should not fault you for trying to live on." She said in her curt way and I almost wanted to jump for joy. Instead I smiled at her, thanking the Gods for gifting me with the best friends Skyrim had to offer.

"But I catch you trying to bite me and I'll lop your head off quicker than you can hiss. Got it?" I couldn't stop myself from chuckling at that.

"I have specially made potions to get me by if I can't find a willing or acceptable target." My words seemed to calm the worst nervousness from the housecarl as she broke out into a disgusted snicker telling me to keep the details to myself.

We discussed my missions with the Dawnguard for the rest of the night. Lydia wanted to know everything just like always. 'If I am to be stuck in this town until the end of my days, the least you can do is bring me stories of adventure.' she often said and so I told her about the prophecy of the tyranny of the sun that lead me on a chase to find two elder scrolls and then learning how to read them. We delved into the happenings with the snow elves, the bow of Auri-El and lastly the defeat of the Volkihar clan. The vampire clan that wanted to lay all the lands in Tamriel under their feet by using the bow of Auri-El to block out the sun.

We talked until I started feeling fatigued and Lydia asked if I should not be sleeping since it was long past morning.

I went up to the master bedroom and more or less fell into bed after asking Lydia for help in the matter of Farkas. I yawningly explained to her that they would attack me on sight, before even confirming who I was, if I dared go up to Jorrvaskr in my current condition. She agreed and promised to bring Farkas over by nightfall, provided he was in Whiterun and not off on a mission.

~.o.O.o~

Feeling like I was awaiting my doom, I took a seat by the fire in the kitchen again. I had been up for what felt like forever, unable to rest well in my nervous state. Chugging the last of my potion - to keep myself looking as close to normal as I possibly could - I settled in the chair closest to the fire, to listen for the approach of my mate and I almost crawled out of my skin when I finally heard the first signs of his approach.

"God's woman, just tell me what's wrong!" I heard Farkas exclaim as he approached the house and I involuntarily started curling in on myself.

"You'll see. Only promise me to walk away if it's too much. Don't linger, just walk away Farkas. You hear me?! I don't want to have to hunt you down like the dog you are and put you out of your misery…" I was surprised to hear Lydia sounding protective but my thoughts soon left me when someone grabbed the door.

"You coming?" I heard Farkas impatiently rumble.

"No, this is between you and her. I'll be at the Bannered Mare for the night." Lydia answered and by the way her voice got progressively weaker, I gathered she was already making her way there as she spoke.

The door started creaking as it slid inwards and I stopped breathing where I sat, hugging my knees tightly to my chest as I stared almost panic-stricken into the fire.

Not a words was uttered when his eyes landed on my pale skin and I could sense him tense up as my scent reached his nose. I glanced at the huge Nord from the corner of my yellow eyes and saw his silver gaze narrow in suspicion as he sniffed the air. Every sense I possessed was telling me to run, to flee before things turned ugly. But I stubbornly held my ground as I turned my gaze back into the flames.

"I… I failed you… us…" I whispered, my voice barely holding together from the emotions fighting to escape my iron-grasp and my heart almost broke into a million pieces when I heard Farkas let out a gasp ending in a keening 'no'.

"I'm sorry…" I croaked, my voice barely audible over the soft crackling of the fire.

I turned my unwilling gaze to my mate, horrified at the dread and sorrow I found in those silver eyes. I could see the straining muscles of his clenching jaw, the widened nostrils and shallow breathing but other than that and his eyes his features could just as well have been chiseled in stone. The bitterness that streaked his ruggedly handsome face had me wince inwardly.

How did I even begin to explain how I had sacrificed our bond to keep my strength at a maximum while battling evils in the realm of the Soul Cairn? How I had knowingly let myself be turned into a monster, even if it had been for the good of the entirety of Tamriel. I had still betrayed him, us, our bond. And how could I go about asking his forgiveness for something I could scarcely forgive myself for?

I might have saved Skyrim on numerous occasions, but I was hardly worthy of the praise hero. Not when I destroyed everything dear to me in the process. I was a selfish menace, a weapon. Useful for nothing but war and destruction.

I closed my eyes, waiting for whatever reaction the Gods saw fit to grace me with and it felt like an eternity past before I noticed the sound of shuffling feet. Then the distinct whining, creak of the door as it shut.

Then there was only silence.

~.o.O.o.~

"You knew?! You knew and you didn't warn me?! I damned near killed her by sheer reflex!" Farkas was furious as he stormed into Lydia's room at the Bannered Mare after grabbing her by the collar of her armor and dragging her there.

"I couldn't risk you refusing to see her!" Lydia defended angrily, correcting her armor before crossing her arms over her chest.

"Why would I…? Never mind that… I need your help." Farkas said, his voice going from agitated to confused, to tired as he sunk down on the bed of the rented room.

"With what?" The housecarl said without blinking.

"I know I've heard about a mage looking for a cure for vamps. I need your help to find him. At least I think it was a him. Elf, somewhere in the north if I remember it correctly." Lydia was looking at Farkas with concentrated eagerness. Even if it was only hearsay so far, even if this person hadn't found an actual cure yet, it was still hope.

"I'll ask around, let you know what I find as soon as I find it." She promised him while patting him on the shoulder. Farkas smiled weakly up at her.

"You should get back, I'll stay at the Bannered Mare until we get this cleared up." Lydia said and cocked an eyebrow when the Nord didn't move.

"I suspect she can't stay at Jorrvaskr, but, you're welcome to my spot in Breezehome until…"

"We… uhm… didn't talk much… at all really…" Farkas interrupted with a heavy sigh, rubbing his face with his huge calloused hands.

"What?"

"I… I couldn't… I had to leave before my wolf took over…" Farkas looked absolutely miserable but Lydia hardly registered it.

"You left? You left her alone without so much as a word?!" the slap echoed through the room before Lydia even knew what happened. It stung her hand from the force but Farkas didn't even move or flinch.

"Get your damned dog under control and pray to whatever God you favor that she forgives you!" And with those words the housecarl turned on her heel, sprinting back to Breezehome.

Lydia fought that sinking feeling in her gut telling her what her brain didn't want to hear. She had known Des more or less since the day the elf set foot in Whiterun almost two years ago and she knew her well. Her instinct told her Des had left but she fought that feeing tooth and nail until the empty, darkened house of Breezehome welcomed her and Farkas, who wasn't far behind, with the harsh truth.

"She ran..." Lydia whispered into the darkness as Farkas sunk defeated into the same chair she had sat in when receiving the news of her friend's condition.