He was restless. Greir had fed but hadn't dismissed him which made him antsy. The rush that came from her feeding from him made him hot. And there was nothing he could do about that heat. Greir had forbidden such behaviors in her presence. She knew the effects of the feedings and she was just standing, staring out her window. He rose, choosing to risk it and wrapping his arms around her, groping the parts of her that the armor she wore usually kept hidden. His fingers dug into the soft cotton that made up her dress, roughly, unable to hold back his need.

"Ugh," Greir snarled, shoving him away from her. "Your insatiability disgusts me."

Bendu collapsed into a chair.

"Ah but is it not my insatiability that you adore?" he asked. "Why else have you kept my company so long?"

Greir did not respond, stomping along in her steel boots.

"She has not broken!" she growled. "I hear no begging from the dungeon, no pleas for food. She hasn't weakened and I need to find her weakness!"

"Why do you seek to break her?"

Bendu rose, touching his chest, fingers twitching with an excitement summoned by the sudden heat he felt imagining Greir's halfling prisoner.

"Because I know what she is," Greir replied.

She was eerily still now, staring out the other window in her room, down into the courtyard, watching the soldiers train.

"Ghosts have haunted me since I was born, of that I am certain. They no longer do but there was one in particular that had a great influence on me," she explained.

Her smile was dark and maniacal.

"Perhaps... a ghost from her past is what I need."

Greir looked at Bendu.

"Be a dear and put that energy of your to use," she barked.

As much as he wanted to argue and offer suggestions that would get him the halfling, he knew better than to make them. Instead, he rose, cracking his neck.

"Where will you have me go," he inquired, voice cool and unfeeling, hiding the rage and dissatisfaction he felt.

"Volkihar," Greir ordered, offering him a map she'd slipped from her desk.

He took it, studying it briefly.

"And when I get there?"

His fingers traced the marked path.

"Ask for Harkon's son."

(SYRA)

The shiver down my spine meant one thing. I let my eyes open, surprised that it was still possible. I had no sense of time but I knew that I wouldn't be too far off if I assumed it had been days since my last meal. I was basically malnourished. But it was almost like I had no ill effects of that. Which meant the exact same thing that the shiver did. I looked up, slowly, spotting the flickering being before me. They appeared to be reaching for me, what I could see of their skin a golden color. I'd been wrong. This was no was a Divine. My realization fed her, bringing forth the body of Mara. Her kind smile blinded me as if I'd been staring at the sun but it disappeared when she saw my face and what had to be my contempt for her radiating off it. Or maybe because I wasn't who she was expecting.

"You," was all she said.

"Me."

It made sense now. I was hungry but not starving, thirsty but not desperately so. Like a good mother, Mara was protecting me from the worst aspects of my imprisonment. It was a hard realization to take but a necessity that I knew I needed. Her smile returned, catching me off guard.

"A girl, a daughter and one day, a mother," she said. "Your future is bright."

"My future seems to merely involve this small cell and then the Imperial City," I pointed out.

And then a coffin, probably unmarked. Mara merely smiled, gently touching my cheek. A warming sensation seemed to ease my ailments and I realized she'd blessed me.

"I see your path," she intoned. "It is a hard one and you will know many scars, many hurts. But awaiting you at the end is love and acceptance."

I didn't bother to argue with her. Divine or not, the only thing waiting for me at the end of my path was death.

(GENERAL)

She'd neglected Winterhold for some time, preferring warmth to the chill that seeped into the stone. She wasn't a werewolf like her husband who had made himself scarce in the minutes prior to her meeting. Despite that, she had returned. And not because she was Arch-Mage. Skyrim needed her Dragonborn and her Dragonborn was locked away, probably witness to every possible torture at Greir's disposal. Lilith hissed, pricking the finger that she'd been trailing along the tip of one of her daggers. Testing just how sharp it was. As Arch-Mage and an Altmer with high breeding, she'd had the privilege of a vast amount of spells known to very few. That was another reason she'd returned. Winterhold had its own seemingly endless supply of magicka and she would need it for this particular spell. But her magic only went so far. Against Solitude, the Imperials and the Thalmor, she would need an army. Behind her, the door to her quarters groaned as it opened. Lilith fought back a smile, turning, not at all surprised by the entourage of brown and blue tunics she saw surrounding her ally.

"Ulfric Stormcloak," she greeted, trying to sound regal and political.

She'd gone through all the trouble too, digging up the robe made specifically for her when she'd assumed the Arch-Mage position.

"We have much to discuss."

Vampires. A castle full of them. Bendu hadn't wanted to believe the sniveling Imperial guards that had been forced upon him. They were, after all, backwoods Nord farmers. What did they know of castles. Apparently much more than he and that simply would not do. The Thalmor, no, all Mer were superior to the other races. If he didn't know something, it was simply because it was beneath him. As he drew closer to the gates, the gatekeeper appeared, eyes narrowed and suspicious. Bendu signaled to his men to halt, letting him continue on alone. They were more than happy to accomadate him. If they'd been Thalmor, they would've insisted but no guards had been assigned to him. Dalia knew what Greir was, suspected it more likely. And she knew Bendu was feeding her. To demote him or even send him away, she'd have to tell her superiors the reason and that would reflect badly on her. She was probably biding her time, waiting for him to become a vampire so that she could kill him. Bendu smiled at that thought as he paused just three steps shy of the gate.

"I am Bendu," he declared. "In the name of Greir Early-Dawn, I come seeking the son of Lord Harkon."

The gatekeeper said nothing, leaving his post to retreat inside. Bendu touched the gates, judging just how much of his magic it would take to rip it from its hinges. He decided against it. Even if he succeeded, would he have enough power left to fight off a castle of vampires?

"That's not a good idea."

Bendu's gaze flickered away from the gate, landing on the vampire awaiting him in the shadows by the door.

"The son of Harkon, I presume?"

Red eyes began to glow and the vampire stepped forward. He was Nord, his brown hair long so that it rested at his shoulders. He had a single braid at the left side of his head and war paint decorated his left eye. Strange. It was a tradition of the Mer rather than the chose not to dwell. After all, he was highly attracted to Nord women. If the Nordic equivalent to him stood before him, so be it.

"You say Greir has sent for me," the vampire prompted.

His voice was hypnotic. Bendu fought to avoid being pulled in.

"Yes," Bendu replied. "She did not tell me why."

The vampire sniffed.

"No, I suppose she would not," he said, voice haughty as if Bendu was no more than a bug.

It angered the Mer more than he wanted to admit but he stayed his hand.

"I have my suspicions that it pertains to a captive spy my mistress has caught," Bendu went on, spitting out that horrible word.

Mistress. Vampire or not, she was a Nord. He did not serve her. Not truly.

"A halfling named Syra."

Red eyes flashed with absolute shock but only for a second. They retreated behind a mask of cold indifference.

"Take me to Greir."

(SYRA)

I was using my solitude wisely. With my head settled in the crook of my arm, I slept. And memories washed over me. Things I hadn't realized I'd forgotten came back to me. And if what Greir said was true, these memories had been lost because of the emotions they awoke. I remembered my mother so much more clearly now and my father. For assassins, they were kind. While many in the sanctuary left or sent their children away, they kept us. They chose to keep us. They taught us. Us. Dyre and I. I could remember him well, his face almost all Nord except for his eyes. I had father's ice cold blue, he had mother's Dunmer red. I missed my brother for a fleeting second until all my memories zoned in on that night. The night he'd convinced me to do what siblings should never do. I shut it down. I closed the gates that had crashed open, blocking my memories, good and bad from drifting in. With a start, I woke up, shaking my head. My sudden movement startled the Thalmor lackey who'd come with the water I now lived on. Still no food. He glared my way, suspicious and I glared back. I wasn't any happier than he to be so helpless and reliant. I bared my teeth, hissing at him, for lack of anything else to do. The guard visibly recoiled, his face contorting.

"Tsk, tsk."

The voice surprised the guard as much as it did me. Guess who hid it better? The hooded figure emerged from the shadows, the top half of his face hidden by the shadows.

"Showing such weakness in front of a prisoner? Unacceptable."

Before the guard could speak in his own defense or even make a sound, a hand shot out from the shadowed tent of the cloak, the fingers attached piercing the soft flesh of his throat and continuing on until I saw the wrist emerge from the other side. I'd seen many a sick thing but this was most certainly the worst. Slowly, as if savoring each second, and with a sickeningly wet sucking sound, the hooded stranger drew their arm back, letting the body just fall to the ground.

"I do so hate to dirty my clothes," the cloaked stranger declared.

"You're sick!" I snarled, yanking at my chains.

I felt no loyalty to the guard nor sympathy that he was dead. I was a bit saddened at the loss of the water which had fallen and spilled when he had. But animosity was my best defense in the face of the unknown. After all, the Thalmor and Greir were a known evil. This stranger was not. I could practically hear his smile as he reached up with his clean arm, unlatching the pin holding his cloak in place. He stepped into my cell, his red eyes flashing as my own blue ones widened. His grin revealed vampiric canines, the likes of which I'd seen only once and only briefly.

"Hello Syra," he said.

His greeting summoned my own voice from the cave it had meant to conceal itself in.

"Dyre."

A/N: I am soooo sorry this chaptrer is soooo short. What happened was not that I ran out of ideas but that I ended so badassly that I didn't want to ruin the full magnitude of her brother's first appearance. Now, the next chapter, there's going to be another Author's Note (A/N). I advise you to read it cause there will be a warning. I'm being so vague cause I don't wanna scare ya off.