The Dunmer's home had once been the dwelling of a Telvanni wizard, but the old magician had died one night of natural causes- for a blade in a man's chest naturally ended his life. After the mess had been cleaned and the summoned abominations had been dealt with, the dark elf had settled in.
It was a spacious home, built into a rising hill so that the wizard's lab- the largest room- gracefully protruded from the side. The Dunmer had little use for magic, so the room was converted to a training arena. His many weapons, collected over two hundred years, hung from the walls and his "trophies" from his favorite battles and kills lined the shelves of his "office".
Bedrooms that had once been the living quarters to novice mages lined the hallways and most had been turned into storage. The Dunmer had, of course, kept the master bedroom for himself and decorated it to fit his tastes. But his favorite rooms were the dungeons located on the lowest level of the pseudo-subterranean dwelling. These expertly crafted prisons and cages had been crafted to hold test subjects and summoned deadra.
Normally the dark elf used the cages to keep cattle when hunting was poor, but they would be the perfect containment for an unconscious vampire. Just until the other managed to regain control of itself, of course. A few square meals should snap the other out if his frenzy. Whether or not the vampire had the willpower to be anything other than a snarling mess, however, was another matter.
If it proved to be incapable, he would put it out of its misery.
But, that was potentially days away.
For now, he would try to put some meat back on the prominent bones. After all, his mother had always told him that if he wanted to keep pets, he had to feed them.
This brief memory of his "life" brought a wry smile to the dark elf's lips.
"The things that stay with you, eh, Sera?" the Dunmer muttered as he deposited the other vampire- none too gently- on the stone floor inside one of the magically enhanced prison cells. That particular cell was used primarily for observation and the walls were divided horizontally through the middle so that the bottom half was stone and the top were bars of enchanted steel.
He would be able to see the other's progress… if any was ever made.
The Dunmer closed and locked the door behind him as he stepped out of the cell.
"I'm going out," he said to the completely unresponsive vampire through the bars, "If fortune is with me I will return with dinner."
The dark elf watched the still figure for a moment with a thoughtful look in his pale eyes. If he didn't know himself any better, he would have thought he was developing a strange attachment to the other vampire. Nothing impressive, just the beginnings of responsibility, like the duty one feels towards a stray dog saved from the streets.
With a snort he shook his head. Luckily, he knew himself better. This pitiful excuse for a vampire lying in his dungeon was a whim, nothing more. It lived or died because he wanted it to. And if he chose to let it live and to help it grow into a truly formidable hunter of the night, well, that was simply because he had nothing better to do.
The Dunmer left, well aware of the limited time he had left to hunt for food. An ashlander delicacy would have to wait. Tonight he would have to go after much easier pickings…
0o0o0o0o0o0
Slaves made an easy meal, if a distasteful one.
Having to bite through scales was hard on the Dunmer's teeth and fur had a nasty tendency to linger in his mouth after feeding. Their only saving grace was that they were kept in tightly packed quarters and were practically undefended.
The locks on their cabin doors could not keep out a thirsty vampire and even after loitering around to feed on one of his catches, he was long gone before the screams attracted the slave owners in the plantation houses. Carrying a young Khajiit over his shoulder did not slow him down in the least. Even with her clawing at his back and kicking like a child throwing a fit.
With time to spare, he returned home and dropped the dinner off in the vampire's cell. He wasn't surprised to see that the other was still in the exact same position it had been in before he left and he didn't wait around for it to wake up and feed.
He was tired and the night's events warranted being recorded. So, instead, he went to his bedroom. He quickly jotted down everything in his journal- one of hundreds now- and then changed out of his travel gear. In nothing but his underclothes, he let himself flop backwards onto his bed.
The exquisitely cushioned mattress puffed up around him and the number of pillows and blankets was nearing ridiculous. Many would have thought his bed too soft for a hardened killer- thinking perhaps that a coffin would be better suited for a vampire- but he liked the feeling of a nest, of having gentle walls protecting him while he slept. Slumber was when he was most vulnerable, even if he had dozens of knives and daggers hidden within an easy arm's length.
With a large yawn- a habit of his former life- that displayed his elegantly curved fangs, he nestled deeper into his nest of blankets and pillows and let sleep wash over him.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
The young Khajiit's leopard spotted cheeks were damp from her frightened tears.
She was trapped by a vampire- to be used to feed his unnatural hunger. She was utterly terrified; her heart pounding in her chest and the corpse in the center of the cell wasn't helping her growing fears. The body looked as though it had been lingering on the edge of death for days before finally succumbing to its wounds.
She wondered if the nearly detached arm was a result of the vampire's habitual cruelty or from a failed attempt to escape. Or both.
She settled in a corner, desperately praying through her sobs and heaving chest.
She had thought the day she had been enslaved as a kit was the worst in her life, but she was wrong. The worst was yet to come. The dark elf vampire had had no soul, no pity in his eyes when he had drained one of her brothers-in-binds.
What she wouldn't give now to have been him…
A quick death was all she wished for and she hoped the vampire was simply keeping her for a rainy day- that he wouldn't keep her alive to feed on indefinitely. Or worse… She had often heard terrifying tales of the depravity of vampires and the dark elf's tattooed face reminded her of the wanted posters for bandits, marauders, and thugs.
She wrapped her golden arms around her legs, her tail curling around her feet and ears drooping in hopelessness.
It was a long time before her tears subsided. The force of her choking sobs had made her stomach hurt and her head pound, but she was accustomed to such pains. The dark elf that owned the plantation she worked was often careless. He would forget to send the slaves rations and he would work them long, hard hours.
A headache was nothing. The numbness of her feet, however, was annoying enough to prompt her to stand and get blood flowing back through the constricted limbs. The tingling crept up her legs, but soon faded.
Not for the second or even third time, her yellow gaze fell on the corpse.
She wondered who he had been before the vampire had ripped him from his home and locked him away. Did he have a family? Children? What gods did he worship? Had anyone prayed for his departed soul?
She edged closer to the pale body, wondering if he would be offended if she prayed for him. She followed The Nine- Mara specifically and Mara preached kindness and mercy. She worshipped secretly, of course, but the glimmer of faith in her heart had helped her through troubling times.
If she was to die, she wanted her last deed to be an act of kindness for an obviously deserving soul.
She nudged the body with her toes; half afraid it would jump up and eat her. When it didn't stir, she knelt down beside it and carefully pushed it onto its back. She had never touched a dead body before and it was a disturbing feeling; cold and too still. It was unnatural- yet as natural as life; only opposite.
Stomping down her uneasiness, she softly brushed the matted hair from the dead man's face. His eyes were closed- a small mercy. She didn't think she could have withstood it staring…
There was a gold chain around the neck- almost hidden by the length of the hair. She tugged at the chain until the pendent attached was revealed. It was simple, made of gold. Maybe a gift from a loved one. She placed the pendent on his thin chest.
Lifting her head to the sky and her paws over the body in offering, she prayed that Mara show the departed soul mercy for any past sins and that she would welcome it into her arms.
She had been so intent on her prayer, that she didn't notice the corpse twitch.
It wasn't until a waking moan escaped the blue lips that she looked down.
The dead eyes snapped open.
She couldn't even gasp as a fanged mouth lounged at her throat, the "corpse" springing upward with such tremendous force that she was lifted off the ground and shattered against the stone wall- fangs still deep in her neck even though her heart had stopped beating.
0o0o0o0o0o0o
The Dunmer was pleased to see his newly acquired "pet" had fed when he checked on it the next night.
The starved vampire had drained the slave completely, even gone as far as tear into her wrists in an attempt to find more.
The brokenness of the remaining corpse reaffirmed the dark elf's belief that the other was of the Quarra bloodline. Perhaps even sired by one of the more powerful members of that clan. But, the Dunmer wouldn't know until he could speak to the other vampire, and it was still barely an animal. He wondered if fresh blood had brought it any clarity, even if for the briefest of moments. It had certainly helped the vampire's gauntness, but it was only a cosmetic change. And one that would disappear rapidly if he didn't feed again soon.
"Feeling any better, Sera?" the Dunmer asked through the bars, not really expecting a response.
The other vampire continued its pacing…on all fours.
The dark elf shook his head, his earrings tinkling as they tapped each other. "You," he informed the other, "are certainly an oddity."
The other didn't respond, but it did stop its fevered circling of the cell to grasp at something at his chest.
The Dunmer leaned closer to the bars. The other vampire was desperately gripping a gold pendent around his neck.
The Dunmer blinked, wondering where the necklace had come from. He hadn't seen it the night before, but the vampire's hair was more than long enough to conceal such a small trinket. The pendent itself was simple, but the gold chain was delicate- too delicate to have survived without purposefully being protected.
More questions buzzed through the dark elf's mind and his curiosity was becoming unbearable. What kind of vampire was too mad to speak or walk, yet able minded enough to take care of a piece of jewelry?
The other vampire- seeming to forget why he had grabbed his pendent- continued his circling, making the Dunmer dizzy just watching.
"I'm going hunting. Don't go anywhere while I'm gone."