Hey guys sorry about the delay I've been off on holiday and this particular chapter required quite a bit of thought. Also someone brought up a fair point about the Dragonborn's name in the review section so I've now given one, though keeping with my theme of literally piling on the tension I hope you approve of the name I've chosen (huehuehuehuehuehue).
Anyway, enjoy!
Tamriel had a reputation for momentous events such as the War of the Three Banners, The Oblivion Crisis, The Red Year and many others throughout the eras all of which were resolved with the threat contained and the heroes wondering off and disappearing into the blue in a way that more or less gave closure to the issue with the exception of one. The Neravarine had left to Akavir in search of adventure, The Hero of Kvatch was last seen entering the Shivering Isles and according to some had become Sheogorath with the sudden reappearance of the Daedric Lord Jyggolag adding credence to this theory. The Dragonborn however, had simply vanished. In a flash of light. Gone. For over a century no one, not even the dragons, had caught the merest glimpse of him. The circumstances of his disappearance however, everyone, especially the dragons, had something to say about it.
At least Serana didn't get bored during the century her husband had disappeared, not that the thought was of any comfort. She had tried so very hard to move on and had herself taken up adventuring as both a hobby and a career but her time with The Dragonborn had left it a hollow experience without him to enjoy it alongside her. Immortality was as much a curse as it was a gift, her life in stasis that when something, like The Dragonborn, was added it was exciting and wondrous but when something, like The Dragonborn, was taken away…
Another part of the curse, the half-expectancy. Half-expecting him to be holding her when she woke. Half-expecting him to lay down beside her when she went to sleep. Half-expecting him to rush ahead of her with a sword in hand whenever she got into a fight. Half-expecting him to be there.
The years during the war had been the worst, he was at the epicentre of what was by all accounts a vision of the most hellish plains of Oblivion while she pined away at Castle Volkihar. To say her mother had been unhappy that he had left her was an understatement, not that Valerica approved of their relationship in the first instance. But had he left her and not the other way around? The Thalmor had murdered their adopted children because they perceived the couple as a threat and sought to break their resolve and while, to her shame, it had worked on Serana where her husband was concerned the act only assured the utter destruction of the Aldmeri Dominion.
The Dragonborn had gone into some kind of calculated bloodlust and he went about picking the Thalmor regime apart with a disturbing cruelty which was nothing short of frightening. Simply opposing the Thalmor on the battlefield wasn't enough he wanted them to know they were going to be destroyed, to know the ramifications of their actions, and see their well laid schemes crumble around them and to know complete and utter failure and finally total destruction in a way that would ensure there would be no recovery. The Dragonborn had been both cunning and brutal in his crusade and the effects were still being felt a century later and seeing them first hand unnerved even Serana.
A pure-blood vampire, who had honed her skills both mundane and arcane to almost preternatural levels, had inherited many of The Dragonborn's artefacts, was now a member of the Dark Brotherhood "Family", and riding atop the great dragon Odahviing was not entirely sure she wanted to enter the rebuilt Alinor for her arranged meeting with one who claimed to possess information on her husband.
The city itself had been painstakingly restored to its original beauty but that was something of a moot point. The Altmer no longer carried an air of arrogance but instead their eyes were cast low and there was a distinct atmosphere of sobriety, she heard very little laughter, saw very few children playing they even appeared sombre as they dashed out of Odahviing's way. The great dragon himself was grim for he remembered well the last time he was here, unlike Serana he heeded The Dragonborn's call to war.
Serana dismounted her scaled companion and with as much confidence as she could muster strode onto Saviour Street and before the Shrine of Lamenting Salvation and gasped at the beautiful rendition of her husband holding the elven child that had ended the war. She had read the books and eyewitness accounts even spoken to some of the veterans but none of it could have prepared her for this. She felt herself tremble, she had no idea what to make of it. It was her husband holding the elven child his skin was made in the purest of marble while hers of moonstone. Both shared the same black hair crafted from ebony though Serana's husband had apparently grown a beard since she last saw him. His eyes were the most ingeniously crafted with two orbs of heartstone glowing in a manner that mirrored her own eyes, eyes that she had given to The Dragonborn. His head was raised upwards barring silver fangs at the moment when shouted a single word in dovazhul.
The Dragonborn had explained to her that there were many factors that influenced the power of a shout including emotion. Serana had heard his shout all the way from Castle Volkihar. She had dreaded for some time as what could possibly be so terrible to warrant such a reaction from her beloved. When she had found out shortly after the soldiers started returning she had gone from pure horror to grim realisation and acceptance. If she considered that which he had confided with her during the nights they had shared and what she had learned of his nature and that of other dragons, killing a child was something he was quite capable of.
The sound of three pairs of armoured boot heels alerted her to the one she was too meet. "Quite striking is it not?"
Serana turned to greet a tall Altmer woman wearing an imposing set of elven armour flanked by two others who had chain mail veils covering their faces so that Serana could only make out eyes set harder than stone. Captain Aurelia herself could have been considered of great beauty among her kind were it not for the fact her face was scorched and cracked as a result of a direct hit from a lightning bolt during the sack of Alinor.
"I do not know what to make of it." Serana said dryly, she noted the malachite tears falling from the statue's eyes. Were it not for the utter motionlessness of the masterpiece before she would be whispering words of comfort.
"The Shrine of Lamenting Salvation, captured in stone, the moment when this unknown child saved us from Saint Evandar." Serana visibly cringed at the use of her husband's Thalmor slave name. Aurelia paid no attention to Serana's discomfort Odahviing however was less than pleased and gave an angry growl resulting in the two guards to point their halberds in the great dragon's direction. They remained as still as the shrine. It was unnatural for the two elves to display absolutely no emotion in the face of a beast who aided in the destruction of their city a century ago. "Ah, my loyal Penitent."
Serana's fingers coiled around the hilt of one of her many weapons, in this instance it was her father's sword sheathed at her hip whilst Chillrend and her husband's Nightingale blade and bow with a quiver of deadric arrows were slung across her back and the Blade of Woe was strapped to her right thigh. Aurelia smiled. "Ex-Thalmor, the Penitent hide their faces to atone for their past sins, I am the one exception."
"And why is that?" Serana did not entirely like the notion of talking to the ones who killed Lucia and Sofie, they were as much her children as The Dragonborn's.
"I have already atoned by founding then Penitent and commissioning the construction of this shrine to Saint Evandar." Serana flinched again at the use of the name. Aurelia's voice was leavened with confidence and surety. "Ex"-Thalmor indeed. "If you want knowledge on the death and ascension of our patron you must first give us your own knowledge on him."
"And why should I do that?" Serana stared directly into Aurelia's amber eyes, seeing if her own baleful gaze and vampiric aura could undermine the captain's will, who hopefully remained unaware of how they were actually going to glean the information they needed. Odahviing relaxed and slumped to the ground before steadying his breathing. He flashed Aurelia a mocking look before closing his eyes in a visage of absolute focus, as if trying to listen to something only he could hear.
"Surely you of all people would know the greatness of our lord, you are his widow after all." Aurelia shifted somewhat under Serana's gaze though her tone retained the same level confidence to her credit.
"We don't that for sure." Serana spoke with a clear edge in her voice. "I knew him better than anyone and I can tell you that even a god would struggle to him down, he defeated one or two if you include Miraak. But that doesn't my question, why should I tell you anything?"
"A chance to repent." Aurelia smiled making her scarred face appear even more hideous.
"I'm sorry, what?" Serana said in confusion. Repent? What for?
"You betrayed Saint Evandar, when he went to war you did not go with him, your own husband." Aurelia was mocking her. The sheer audacity of that statement left her open mouthed in shock and Aurelia's blatant use of a name that her husband despised.
"I was in mourning." She spoke softly, barely a whisper. She felt tears begin to form at the rush of those painful memories.
"Your tears betray your guilt." Aurelia said with finality "Saint Evandar-"
Aurelia was abruptly cut off by Serana's fist impacting her face. She still wore her black and crimson leather that she had since before being interred within Dimhollow Crypt though it had a number of improvements, such as a number of ebony plates to improve durability in the most vital parts of her body, however the armour was still just as revealing as before, if not more so as the additional plates where shaped so as not to restrict movement and had the side effect of enhancing her curves. This suited Serana just fine as it helped bolster her already considerable powers of seduction making it easier to prey on her "food". She would often amuse herself trying to imagine what her husband would make of her current outfit and was quickly thankful that she had no heartbeat so others could not see her blush. Right now, Serana's favourite parts of her armour were the small ebony studs on her knuckles.
Aurelia was sent reeling from the blow. She turned to face Serana with a bloody and mangled nose and hate filled eyes. Serana matched her glare and drew Chillrend with her right hand and her Nightingale blade with her left. "Do you want to know how much he hated that name "Evandar", the one you Thalmor gave him when he was taken into slavery when he was barely eight years old?" Aurelia drew her glass sword while one of the guards turned to face the vampire with his elven halberd. Serana cocked an eyebrow. "I come from a family of cut-throat politics with some of the most powerful vampires in Tamriel and am also counted among the most feared of all assassin guilds." She masterfully twirled both blades in her elegant hands and gave a particularly predatory grin revealing her needle-like fangs. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Heretic!" Aurelia snarled.
"Save your ridiculous zealotry for someone who actually cares." She said dismissively and as an afterthought "oh and pray my husband doesn't come back and see this because he will not be happy."
A booming chuckle like the sound of a landslide drew their attention to Odahviing. The great dragon was laughing at the captain before turning to Serana. "Your lokaal lives."
Serana's jaw dropped. Aurelia, uneducated in dovahzhul, glared at Odahving. "What is it?" She demanded "Answer me beast!"
"I do not answer to you hinzaal yuvonfahliil." He growled before twisting his mouth into a truly terrifying attempt at a smile. "But you should know that my thuri, the Dovakiin, the one you so foolishly revere, still lives." It was Aurelia's turn to be stunned.
"I did not realise when I was last here," Odahviing continued, "but Bormahu did not strike the Dovakiin down, niid, he ronth, he was transported, to where or for what purpose I cannot say."
"How could you possibly know that?"
"I recognise the workings of one of my own kind, especially that of Bormahu."
Aurelia turned to Serana in realisation. "You did not organise this meeting to speak to me but to get the dragon here."
"Yep," came Serana's curt reply, "what are going to do about it?"
Aurelia opened her mouth then closed it again dropping her sword to her side waving them off dismissively. Her guards stood down and wnt to flank their captain. Altmeri arrogance will never die. Serana thought to herself as she climbed onto the crook behind Odahviing's neck. And a fanatic to boot. She wrapped her slender fingers around her scaled mount's fearsome horns and braced as Odahviing beat his mighty wings pulling them both skywards. When they levelled above Alinor's tallest towers Odahviing tilted his wings and turned to fly northeast towards mainland Tamriel. From there they would go north to Skyrim and the Throat of the world.
The reason Serana is now a walking armoury is that you can learn a lot in century's time despite it not being her skillset in the game.
Also if any of you have tried dual wielding Chillrend and the Nightingale blade it takes overkill to a whole new level.