Fus Ro Ta-Dah!

by FroggyFeet

Artan knew what he saw. The man saw what all Nords saw. A tail. He saw a thief, a disaster waiting to happen, a murderer and a swindler. He saw a problem, sitting like a vulture on top of all his other problems, waiting for the other problems to crush him, so the vulture-problem could eat his liver. They all saw it. And it never became okay. M!Khajiit Dragonborn.

14. Revelations

4E 203, Mid Frostfall

Turdas

The signal was flashier than expected.

The seven of them, including Dro'Marash and Kharjo, were settled in the thick brush at the lakeside, all with their eyes pinned on the slavers bustling around Brittleshin Pass. The green-faced bandits where looking to be less of a threat than ever, one or two even going so far as to turn away from a few of the screaming civilians. And then it started. The lake nearest the slavers was bubbling, at first a slight few and then a broiling mass of water frothing and churning. It was enough to make a good few slavers turn from their places, as well as giving the bandits something to focus on rather than bloodied and beaten bodies. A few even ventured close to the waters edge.

There was a flicker of red light, and a few of the civilians broke free of the tight little line they had been herded into. One even went so far as to near enough brain a nearby slaver with her shackles, downing the man with the sheer force of the blow.

In the sudden chaos as more civilians started fighting back and a few slavers turned back to the line of chained men and women, the bandits seemed a little more confused at what to look at. The slavers attempted to quell the crowd with blunted shields and swords, the bandits watching on dazedly as the rallying slavers pushed past them. And that was when the signal hit. The two flame Atronachs rolled out of the lake with a huge bellow of flame, flanked by an assassin on both sides and one in the centre, near enough crushing whatever resistance there might have been at the lakes edge.

It was kind of terrifying, watching the assassins and conjured Atronachs serge out of the lake to smash, and burn and gut their way through the enemy ranks. The two furthest allies pinned the dragging tail of the slaver line to the rock face, cutting off any hope of an exit.

And just like that they were loping out of the brush, Jordis and Jakk and the head of their group, driving the screaming enemy back from the pass' open maw and into the open. It became chaos pretty quickly after that. Argis quickly lost sight of Artan and the Atronachs, but the sudden titanic twin roars behind him brought them back to his fragmented attention. Penelope and Valencia were surging into the Pass, Artan at their heels, and the echoes of screams much louder than the ones from out in the open. Argis didn't have the time to really pay attention to the niggling fear he had in his heart, busy driving his blade through what he guessed to be a bandit archer. She screamed, and he absently noticed breadcrumbs and smears of sauce across her face. He didn't let it get to him. The civilians had taken the bait, and as the thin line of warriors and Eirian managed to pin the rapidly dying slavers to the mountainside the civilians were herded to the water side, trying to help each other out of their shackles. A few of them even picked up fallen swords to help cut down the straggling enemy since the assassins had followed Artan into the tunnel.

In retrospect, it made sense since Artan's identity as the Master Assassin of the Brotherhood was very fucking confidential.

One of the slavers, by the looks of the crested helmet a captain, managed to slip past one of the tired villagers. He lashed out with his sword, and Argis knew he couldn't make it in time.

Jakk's blades were fast enough to just be a mottled blur in the air, one in the captain's elbow and the other in his kidney. The speed of the attack was lost on the villager, who only noticed the danger when the man screamed in agony a mere foot from her face. She staggered back and Iona took her place, hand on the man's throat.

He didn't see more, since his face was splattered with blood from a careering bandit, staggering from Talia's punch. She hit him again, and his face crumpled.

A few more ugly minutes, and it was over.

Only the sudden blast of light that Eirian sent up as a way of signalling Lydia made the celebrating civilians falter from their happy yelling, their dancing and the rowdy song that a few of them had started up. The lull didn't last, instead the merrymaking returned with fervour. It took a lot of manoeuvring to guide the citizens through the Pass, mostly because they were so relieved to have been rescued. Of course, there were no assassins spotted in the pass, and everything inside that could have harmed an innocent was dead before they needed to cross paths with it.

Things might actually work out, Argis thought.

xxx

4E 203, Mid Frostfall

Middas

Serana was unbelievably hungry.

It had been a good few days since she had fed, and even though the kids and Scouts-Many-Marshes had offered supplementing her, well. She had refused, simply because feeding off of friends was something that she had promised herself she would never stoop to, willing donor or not. If she was honest with herself, it was because she didn't trust herself to stop. Artan had voiced similar worries, but the cat hadn't said much about his insecurities to anyone but her and Iona. She had given him a few of her spare bottles of blood, and the ones she had kept for herself were long gone.

And so, she found herself outside Riften and its murky walls, more or less stalking a few of the mercenaries wandering the Goldenglow Estate. She had found it incredibly easy to infiltrate, just as Artan had said. Apparently the place was owned by some rich fart who liked to hole up in his ivory tower like a terrified princess, scared of Maven's wrath. What he did to warrant such a thing, Serana didn't know. But if it meant an easy meal of some unsuspecting fools, well then that was just her shining luck.

They should have been more on guard, she thought absently, watching a thin waif of a man pick at his gauntlet with a bored hand. He was alone, because of course he was. Apparently doing watches in pairs was considered to be a waste of time here, since all of the patrols on the estate worked alone. Not a bright spark among them, then. It would have been easy for an assassin to wander in and murder the owner. It might have been the mans own luck that Artan did no deals with Maven.

Serana stepped out into the watery moonlight and more or less strode towards the mans open back, and then moving to stand straight infront of him. He jumped a little at her sudden appearance, but before he could much more than grunt he had him in the compulsion, fingers faster than his voice. A few flicks, and he was completely under her spell, eyes glassy and face slack. It took only a moment to brush a long coil of dark hair away from his throat and drag him towards her, hand firmly planted at the base of his skull.

It was easy enough to drink her fill, just enough to tide her over and not kill him. He might have a few bouts of random dizziness, but he would be alive and well in a few days. She laved over the pinpricks in his throat with her tongue, effectively healing the wounds. It was a clever little adaptation that vampires had. It was a shame that most didn't know about it, or didn't care to know.

She sat him down by a tree stump at the lakeside, patting his hat in appreciation before turning on her heel to face Riften.

It was just in time to see the huge explosion rock the land-facing battlement of the city.

Xxx

4E 203, Mid Frostfall

Turdas

Argis tugged on his cloak, tightening the fabric around his neck considerably. It kept the draft out, and made him slightly more comfortable. Well, as comfortable one could be around three assassins. Artan was more than fine, but Lefty and S'haira were unsettling enough for the male khajiits presence to be almost ineffectual. They had left Eirian, Jakk and Lydia to escort the civilian army that they had rescued safely back to Whiterun. Eirian had let out what was more akin to an unearthly howl into the sky when they reached the other side of Brittleshin pass, and had enigmatically said that they would be fine from there on out. So he, Iona, Jordis and Talia had promptly returned through the pass to come face to face with three very smug assassins. It was easy enough to strip the slavers andd bandits of gear, burn the bodies and more or less gain no new information.

None of them were particularly proud of that development, but Artan didn't let them dwell on it long, since he pushed them to make the few hours journey to Riverwood that night. It was more or less midnight by the time they reached the Inn, at which the innkeep was ecstatic about having so many customers. Talia broke off from there, citing that she needed to speak to her scouts. Iona similarly excused herself, oblivious or ignoring the dimming light in the innkeep's eyes.

Lefty and S'haira had refused to even step foot in the place, apparently both having unpleasant memories of inns. Argis didn't want to know. Where they disappeared to, nobody could quite figure out, but Argis was more than relieved when the two of them turned on their heels and left. But now, he and Artan were sat on one of the benches outside, waiting for Cicero. S'haira had dropped down from the rooftop above them to perch on the balcony's railing, and almost gave Argis a heart attack. Lefty fucking melted out of the shadows next to his face, which almost gave him a second heart attack.

And all Artan did was laugh, because he was an asshole.

He stopped laughing when a tiny light in the distance appeared, and in silence, the four of them watched it approach. Nobody expected to see Scouts-Many-Marshes lope out of the dark, bloodied and dead-eyed with Dawnbreaker at one side, Serana at his other.

xxx

4E 203, Mid Frostfall

Middas

She ran faster than she had ever needed to before. But even so, she was late.

The fires had already begun eating their way across the various upper boardwalks, sending ashy timbers crashing down onto the lower catwalks. People were screaming, running, and between the flashes of magic and the thunderous cracks of Dawnguard crossbows, the orphanage kids were making mad dashes towards the river. The vampires had each of the other gates covered like ants on a cake, and the various battle-worthy citizens were already hard pressed keeping the bloodsuckers pinned against the rapidly burning doors into the city. Well, most of them.

Serana hadn't been able to get into Honeyside, the backdoor was being bombarded with different spells and at one point the vampires had their thralls lift one of their fellows and try to use his screaming body as a battering ram, but Scouts had done well in barricading the door. With what little notice he had, she was impressed.

She had eventually decided to scale the wall and leap over, which almost got her a bolt to the throat. The Dawnguard who shot at her had been mauled by an enemy vampire just as he fired the shot, and she didn't know whether to be grateful or not about that. She may have been running for Honeyside, but she was still torn. It was pure spur of the moment that she grabbed at a nearby child, dragging them to their feet and pushing them towards Honeyside.

It was Runa.

"Get the other kids to Honeyside, as well as anyone who can't fight," Serana bit out, before she simply threw down whatever reservations she had and let an unholy amount of lightning loose into the fray. She caught three thralls in her attack, allowing Mjoll an opening into getting at a Nightmaster Vampire that was trying to use them as cover for breaking into the Bunkhouse. Serana rose two of their corpses, and just like that it was on.

It didn't take long to realise that the Dawnguard were firing at her, but it also didn't take long for her to notice the local guards and a few various children screaming bloody murder at them for doing so.

Eventually, all coherent thought bled into movement after movement, attack after attack, a seamless dance of lightning and the ugly sucking drain-spell she was wielding with a vengeance. There was a moment of clarity when a Dawnguard appeared at her side, his face in that battle haze that she had seen so much of since she woke up. She had been ready to blow his brains out with lightning before Hroar, little Hroar of all people, to step between them and shove the man away from her. She laughed, high and shrill, before clapping a hand to the boys back and yelling above the din, "Keep your eyes on the leeches, boy!"

The thieves had begun to trickle into the battle, more pronounced than before to lend aid beside the guards they might have swindled or paid off the night before. It was hilarious, in retrospect.

They were bunkering down, settling in around Honeyside like it was a beacon in the night, the last few kids that hadn't-

The last of the kids were ducking through the tiny gaps between the fighters to run straight into the house when she noticed. It was when Mjoll and a few of the theives' heavies settled into two rough groups, one in the alleyway beside the house and one spanning the sparce few steps between Helgas and the boardwalk, that Serana finally glanced back. Between the flickering archers and the livid Wylandriah, and beside a roaring Marcurio was Sofie. She had a scroll in her hands, one that Serana didn't recognise at all, and she was glad for it.

The pain was unimaginable.

But even as she was dragged inside by -Talen? Talen-Jei?- she noted absently that at least she wasn't like those other vampires outside, ashes already from just being near the Circle of Protection. Why not, she couldn't say.

Sofie was babbling at her, so she guessed she should pay attention.

"-So pa said it would be useful but it might be a little too adept for me. And he'll probably be angry for me reading his books but I got bored and I guess it worked out for the best, right?" She tittered, pressing a hand against Serana's brow. And immediately the pain began the fade even further, and as her mind cleared she nearly nodded to herself and dislodged Sofie's hand. The girl had learnt a spell that could heal the dead. Artan had a fucking amazing kid.

"You did well, kid. You definitely just saved my life right there," Serana smiled, tight but still genuine. She stood, waving away Igrun's hands of help. "Where is Scouts?"

"He's um, over there. Lucia is trying to… talk to him."

"What? Why? What's-"

The answer was right there, in front of her when Scouts himself made a horrible wail, and crouched closer in on himself. His hands were bloodied from clawing at something, and on closer inspection it was from clawing at the skin that covered his ears. Lucia looked absolutely terrified, eyes darting between the Argonian and Serana. But the vampire didn't know what to do, either. She had never seen anything like it, the rocking, the wailing, or the blank stare.

She almost had enough time to ask, but Hroar's dead body came crashing through the doorway, a bleeding Mjoll trailing after him. The woman fell to a knee at his side, face wild and rapidly snapping towards the outside world, before she simply leapt straight at the fireplace, a surge of lightning scorching where she once was. A stray bolt caught Hroar, and the body just twitched before lying still. It made Sofie's already panicked crying pitch into outright hysteria and Lucia's terror bubble into outright screaming fear. The citizens were fucking howling, and Serana wasn't fast enough.

The last thought she had before the enemy Volkihar vampire stepped onto Honeyside's welcome mat was, "They fucking left us to die didn't they."

Her head snapped reflexively when the vampire's head made an loud ugly crack.

Brynjolf sailed past the vampire, landing lightly beside the table with ash-covered blades, and the vampire went after him with a pained snarl. He and Mjoll were trying to back the civilians into going deeper into the house with their turned backs, as well as fighting off the whirlwind of attacks that the Volkihar vampire was throwing at them. It was like watching a snake fight a pair of chickens, is what it was. And Serana couldn't help, because another vampire had popped its head in the door. She slammed it with a frost spell that would have rivalled Windhelm's Winter Solstice and it recoiled, but more and more kept appearing. She could feel her magika reserves dwindling, and fuck the bodies were piling up around that door, but fuck.

They were fucked, weren't they?

Mjoll screamed, and Serana spared a glance at her to see an ugly red gash across her side. She was still standing, though, as was the heavily bruised Brynjolf. But the vampire was winning.

She couldn't leave the door.

The warriors outside were either dead or had already run for their lives. They were lucky that there were only five or so vampires firing shots from outside, as the others had probably begun hunting in other parts of the city. It was disgusting to think it, but she was glad. Better someone else than us. Keep them off us, I don't care who dies just don't let it be us.

But Mjoll was faltering, and Brynjolf's speed wasn't a match for the vampire.

Sofie was screaming even louder, and Lucia was shaking her, trying to drag her away, anything that was getting the brunette further from the now cackling vampire.

And just like that, something in that house snapped.

Scouts was behind Mjoll and Brynjolf at a speed that made the thief's already heightened survival instincts twitch, the red-heads face twitching into fear like a flash.

The Argonian slid between the two of them to stab at a vampire who was dancing around their blades. Serana didn't want to tell Jakk that Scouts was dead. The vampire looked as stunned as Brynjolf and Mjoll when the silver blade pierced her straight through her chest. The expression was immortalised when the Argonian did a dainty step and twirl around the thief and warrior to behead her neatly, sending a whirlwind of ashes into the sky when Dawnbreaker met undead skin.

It was more or less a massacre after that.

Scouts was like a river, pushing and thundering around the vampires surging through the door the moment Serana's magika ran out. They were literally turning to dust the moment they crossed the threshold, only the thralls piling up around the doorway now. Even when the surge had reduced to a trickle, Scouts didn't stoop from his steel-like stance, not even seeming to breathe. All of Serana's instincts told her to run.

Usually they were "Kill, sleep, feed." She had never felt a fear in her like this before, even when she watched Artan eat a fucking dragon's soul before her very eyes. She felt awe, but not this bone-deep fear of an Argonian that she had watched make cakes in a pink apron only hours before.

When it had metaphorically quietened down, a sobbing Sofie threw out another Circle of protection, one that would encompass the door entirely, before Brynjolf started quietly urging people to un-barricade the back door. He didn't take his eyes off Scouts once, his face set into that wild-animal fear that she had seen on farmyard animals beset by wolves. Mjoll was similar, but more subtle with her stare. She had Grimsever at her side, shield strapped to her back, and was chugging a health potion that Aerin had pushed in her slack fingers moments before.

Scouts had fallen completely silent, only moving enough to stand stock still in the centre of the meagre entranceway. His hands were held rod-straight at his sides, his head the only thing allowed slack it seemed, since his chin was resting gently on his chest. It was almost as if he was in a kind of trance.

Sofie was crying silently now, hand around Lucia's with the other clutching at her dress. She let go of both to take a sure stride forwards, to do something that made near enough everyone else in the house have a heart-attack on the spot.

She wrapped a hand around Scout's wrist from where it had fallen limply to his side, and tugged gently on his arm. "Scouts, we need to go find pa and uncle Jakk."

Scouts' sword arm twitched, and for a second Serana thought he'd plunge it straight through Sofie's head. She felt her insides twist when the Argonian slid the silver sword into it's sheathe and transferred Dawnbreaker to his free hand, the one that wasn't held by Sofie. He nodded once, twice, before shaking his head and seeming to return to himself. "Yes. We need to leave. They will know what to do," he seemed to be telling himself more than her, before twitching his wrist a little so her hand slid down and they could hold hands. He led her two the door nodding to Lucia before he nodded to Serana, the suspicious Brynjolf and twitchy Mjoll.

But even as Sofie led him out into the wilds, things weren't quite right.

"What about dad's stuff?" Lucia asked quietly, looking back into the house before following her sister and the Argonian down the wooden steps and into the trees. There were vampires nearby, hollering and throwing things up to the stable's roof to cave it in. Scouts led the two of them further away, unable to stop them from realizing they were caving the thatch roof with bodies.

The other citizens that had hunkered down in Honeyside with them had mostly already broken into runs towards the wilds, or in some cases checked their luck and jumped into the lake. In retrospect, Serana wondered why they were making a slow jog at best.

Sofie answered, "From the looks of it that room had more defences than a secret door, so hopefully most of the things inside are salvageable when we retake the city."

Serana scoffed, but tried to gentle her words a little more when she did manage them. "You saw them all. They practically ravaged everything. Who could stand against a group of vampires like that? Not without an army at least? And that Talia's army moved out towards the other holds days ago."

"Dad could," Lucia noted thoughtfully.

"Aye, that he could lass," Brynjolf nodded, making sure to miss the bow she had across her back when he ruffled her hair. She seemed to remember then, and drew the weapon to hold it at her side. He nodded again, in approval.

"Where are we going? We cant just wander the wilds-" Aerin started, sounding a little out of breath from everything. The six others looked to him; well, except Scouts, who was having trouble looking at anything. His eyes still had that awful glassy blur.

There was a quiet moment where they all looked rather listless and lost, but eventually Sofie snapped that in half. "We are going to the nearest house. Which would be Ivarstead. They have the Greybeards, right? So they would probably have at least one in the town protecting the townsfolk, especially since the citizens have been supplying the Greybeards with food and other such necessities for generations. We will be safe with them, as well as get a message out to papa. Now we had better get going, hadn't we?"

She turned on her heel and began near enough dragging Scouts again, but keeping a very tight distance between her and the lake. Serana looked to Lucia, who shrugged and broke out into a jog to walk beside her sister.

They almost made it.

They hit the tiny farm that skirted Riften, but by looks of it the vampires had already gone through, destroying most of the house as well as setting the fields alight. It was a mistake going past it. Something whistled through the air, and Serana was too slow to react. The shard of ice caught Mjoll's side, winding her but thankfully missing her with the sharp point. It sailed mostly past, ripping a few of the belts across her shoulder free. She hit the dirt hard, whether from instinct or pain was unclear, but Aerin was forced face-first into the dirt by her arm, and her sword- was already drawn in her free hand. Serana had to guess a little of both. Serana looked into the dark swells between the fires and started firing back, sending a bolt of lightning into the dark. It lit everything pretty well, but also encouraged a few of the straggling vampires into the woodland around them, and that was that. Aerin took off towards the lake, dragging Sofie and Lucia beside him, while Scouts drew his silver sword and started hacking at anything that tried to follow.

It might have worked, having Mjoll, Serana and Scouts holding the line. But as it was, something hard and heavy hit Scouts in the chest, shattering the silver sword he held up in defence, and he went flying. Mjoll was too slow to see the arm whip back and it caught her across the head. She crumpled, and Serana was alone, only barely able to hear the sound of Scouts hitting the lakewater. It sounded like he hit a deep part, so she was not worried.

She was worried when Orthjolf appeared in her vision.

It was easy enough for her to banish the Gargoyle that had been summoned, and she backed away from the line of ten or so vampires that had accumulated. She even recognised a few of them, sickeningly enough.

"Hello, Mistress Serana," Orthjolf smiled, and she knew, deep inside, that this one of them were going to die tonight. "It is a pleasure to see you again."

"What are you doing? Riften is miles away from the castle, and the Dawnguard are practically its neighbours! This is insane!" she hissed at him. They both knew she was stalling, trying to give Aerin enough time to-

"I have them, Orthjolf," a male voice rang out in the near silence. And just like that, everything fell apart. Stalf had Sofie and Lucia by the hair, one head in each fist, and was urging them towards the enemy line.

"And that human?" The leader asked.

"Put him in a compulsion and made him drown himself, of course," Stalf replied.

"Good wo-"

She almost tore his entire cheek and jaw from his face with her attack, and the girls were screaming, and there was some kind of howling from all around her, but that was it, wasn't it? She couldn't feel much of anything, just the whirl of wind around her and the rapid smack, smack, smack of things hitting her legs and arms. Her fingers were wet, she felt, more because of the cold dripping and the way the wind made the liquid on her hands feel even colder. It felt like forever before she stopped, or at least forever until she came back to herself, eyes taking in the dark that had settled in the tiny copse of trees. The farm wasn't burning anymore, and the girls, well the girls were gone. Hopefully they ran. But as she looked around at the bodies piled around the path away from Riften, she knew. Orthjolf wasn't there, and neither was Stalf.

Her father's men had Artan's children.

Xxx

4E 203, Late Frostfall

Fridas

He had wondered what the journey was like for Artan when he went between Dawnstar to deal with Cicero and then all the way into Riften to deal with Maven. It was a long time ago, and he barely remembers the things that happened there. He had been through worse. But he did remember the sound of Artan's voice when he got into that basement dungeon that Maven had in her house.

It still kind of haunted him.

Artan wasn't talking this time.

They had left the same night that Serana and Scouts showed up. Cicero had appeared on the road towards Whiterun, looking even madder than before. But his jokes died in his throat, and for once Argis saw an actual monster rather than a man. He fell in alongside Artan, S'haira and Lefty, and between them it was almost enough for Argis to say fuck this I'm out. If it was anything else, then he would have. But as it was, he was never going to stop until they got to those kids. He supposed there must be something wrong with him, too, because Jordis was giving him a wide berth, and Lydia was avoiding everyone.

Scouts, well Scouts was inconsolable. Jakk was at his side, but even the khajiit couldn't fix whatever had snapped inside the Argonian. Artan hadn't said a word, and just set Scouts up with a set of armor when they hit Breezehome. Dawnbreaker was still at his side, and Artan had given him another sword to dual wield with.

Artan didn't even seem surprised that Scouts could fight, and Jakk was livid. The two kept it out of the Argonian's sight, but it was obvious to the rest of them that Artan had been the only one to know about Scout's incredible battle prowess. They had all figured him to be a regular guy. But from Serana's tale about how Riften was attacked, and then about how she had taken the quickest route to Riverwood after realizing she had been too late to rescue the girls, well. She was a vampire, a pure-blooded one at that. It had been night time, and she was on full alert. And Scouts had not only found her, but snuck up on her.

It was good news for them; since they needed all the firepower they could get in order to attack the Volkihar Castle, but as things looked… Scouts was in bad shape. Whatever he stopped fighting for, well, it was enough that it had brought back some terrible memories. Argis didn't know how he felt about making Scouts fight.

As it was, they managed to gather Jordis, Lydia, himself, Scouts, Jakk and the assassins. Eirian, well, Eirian had surprised them all.

They had stopped off at Jorvaskr after Jakk had insisted, and the elf was sat inside at the big table celebrating with the others. Apparently Farkas, Aela and Ria had managed to tackle one of the slaving groups who had tried to attack the small farms near Whiterun, but easily repelled them. As well as finding out one of their bases. Aela had even taken a key from their leader before he managed to dispose of it.

And when Artan stormed in, Jakk at his side and Argis at his other, well, it was a surprise that Vilkas welcomed them. And when Artan explained the situation, well, if "The Volkihar took the girls. Apparently Harkon's retaliation at Serana leaving with the elder scroll, I need you, Eirian," counted as an explanation. Vilkas had recoiled, looking grim, but the elf had stood, eyes like a fucking hurricane. Njada and Athis had actually moved away from her, much more aware of the tiny wisps of lightning that seemed to filter through the air around her head.

"Companions, your Harbinger goes to war. We have been a family for more than a year now, and I do not ask you to follow me. But I am going to the Volkihar Castle, and I will raise that backwater vampire den to the ground. Who, if any of you, will accompany me? Who will be my sword and shield?"

The screaming started soon after that, and as it was, near enough half of the guild had followed Eirian and Artan out of Jorvaskr that evening.

It seemed that Eirian had become their leader, or Father figure, or whatever kind of head the companions had. Or at least they respected her enough to follow her to the other side of the province. Cicero had thankfully kept a distance from the werewolves, as well as most of the more normal warriors accompanying them. But even so, nobody had heard from Calder since he had gone to the market in Riften before the attack. Scouts said he hadn't returned, and that he only knew about the attack when some vampires had tried getting in through the back door. By the time he had barricaded it with near enough anything not nailed down, the girls had run in, Sofie crying and Lucia wild-eyed.

Calder as it was could be either dead, or worse.

But then again, if he was alive, they would rescue him, too.

The only time they stopped for more than two hours was when Celan and his group of scouts intercepted them. "Hello again, Artan. Argis, what's going on?"

Argis had tried to reply, or at least tell him to run, but Artan was already in his face. "Vampire hunters indeed? Those freaks have my girls, and the Dawnguard near enough crumbled! What the fuck kind of warriors are you?!"

Celan looked shocked, and then entirely devastated after hearing about Riften when Eirian had manage to get between them and explain. The other few Dawnguard fighters with him seemed rather grim, but none the less, they seemed determined. It made their group bigger, if more passive aggressive, than before.

Some of them even looked a little green around the edges when they went through Morthal and Artan cured his vampirism. A few of the old Vigilants in the group looked disgusted when the black soul gem changed hands, but something in Argis was a little cold when it came down to the tiny rock. Rather someone else than Artan, he guessed. When he had started feeling less charitable with his pity, he didn't know. When they were maybe a day from the icy jetty that would mark the short stretch of water between the castle and the mainland, Artan took his hand. It wasn't anything more than a silent askance for strength, support. Argis gladly gave, and the two of them stepped up from the seats they had taken on a log for their watch, and woke the rest of the dozing group.

And when they strode out into the patchy snow between the water and the woods, well. The thirty odd vampires meandering around the wooden jetty were less of a threat and more of a starter before a main course, Argis thought.

Xxx

Sofie woke slowly, and instead of the anger she thought she should have felt, she only had a deep-set fear in her heart. Lucia was different. She was near enough vibrating with rage at her side, almost enough that Sofie wondered how the manacles around her wrists stayed on. She hid her tiny smile at the thought of them binding their hands before them. They weren't bindings right now, they had more or less given Lucia a hammer.

"They took us to lure dad here," Lucia bit out, eyes not leaving some far off point in the room. Sofie took that moment to look around, and notice the forty or so vampires in the huge mead hall, all staring or at least glancing furtively in their direction. As it was, they were huddled in the centre of three huge tables, and well…

She tried not to look, but one of the humans laid on the left-most table groaned quietly, and the resounding thunk of a vampire cracking a fist across the man's skull drew her eye. The thought of it, being under a compulsion that strong, strong enough that a bunch of vampires feeding on you wouldn't break it. Pa said that compulsions usually snapped when the subject was introduced to pain, so if someone under a compulsion was hit with something hard enough the compulsion would break. But vampires always muddy up the rules, he had said. The man had to have been strong to even make that noise.

A huge vampire strode into her space, grabbing her by the back of the dress and lifting her up to sit, ignoring the gurgle she made when the neckline cut off her airway. Something slammed into his arm, making him release her. When she looked back up, the vampire smashed the back of his hand into Calder's jaw, but the Nord didn't even flinch. The vampire retreated, grinning. He looked nothing like Serana, since she had stayed looking mostly human. But these vampires were all so… inhuman. She couldn't explain it much more than looking at something ethereal. But then, Penelope and Valencia were very human-like, in the way they presented themselves. Childlike more than anything, but they had some kind of humanity in them.

"Don't forget, blood bag, that you are only alive because you're that animal's lover," the vampire snarled, too-big fangs twisting the skin around his mouth tight. "If you were anything else, you'd be on that table with the others."

Sofie's head snapped to the side, eyes pinned to Calder. He looked a little grey, but didn't give anything away. By the Nine they were in trouble. Thank the Gods that Lucia intervened, who brought the attention to herself by growling, ""You'll regret it, leech."

The vampire turned to her, and spat. She laughed a laugh that Sofie had never heard before. It was deep, and reminded her vaguely of Talia. "Keep on going. He'll strap you up to a tree ready for the sunshine."

The vampire growled, and stormed away. It was almost funny to see a windswept and screaming vampire ran in, an altmer by the look of him, pushing through the vampires congregated at the balcony entranceway to howl down at the congregation. "He's here! Here's here and he brought a dragon!"

Lucia's laugh rang out through the hall, even so much as drowning out most of the hubbub that erupted at the announcement, some vampires looking more distraught than others. It was an awkward look on their faces. Too human for the inhuman twists. It was another big, dark-haired vampire who slammed down his fist on the table behind them that brought silence to the hall. Lucia sneered, but was quiet as well when the lord of the castle spoke.

"We are Volkihar; we are the top of the food chain. A mere animal and its pet lizard are nothing to my might. I will destroy any vampire fool enough to run from this fight. That creature has most likely gathered a strong group to attack this castle, and once they lay dead and dying, this province and its blood bags are ours," Harkon laughed, loud and bright.

He looked about to say more, but an explosion rocked the castle. Well, to say it was an explosion was a little bit of an understatement. Wood from what she guessed was the front door thundered through the air, huge splinters catching the vampires crowding the balcony in front of them. Some of it even landed around the bound threesome in the centre of the hall, forcing Lucia and Sofie to huddle even closer to Calder, who tried his best to shield them from most of it. Something caught him in the shoulder, making him snarl out something in Nordic, but otherwise he didn't make a sound.

"Oh Talos Almighty, Calder!" Sofie shrieked when she looked around. It was at least three inches wide and seven long, going straight through Calder's shoulder muscle and out of his back. A few inches lower, and it would have caught her straight in the head.

"Keep focused!" Lucia grabbed her hands, which she hadn't realised were shaking, to still them. And just like that, the world fell away. Lucia was staring at her, straight in the eye, calm and collected. It reassured her, that trust. And when Lucia tugged the last of the ropes from Sofie's hands, and Sofie went to return it, Lucia shook her head. "Heal Calder. It won't be the first time I've gotten out of a tight bind," she smirked, rewarded with a tight little chuckle from Calder. So Sofie took up a nearby candlestick that had fallen from the tables, ignoring the fucking mania going on around her, and hit the splinter in Calder's shoulder with the butt. He screamed so loudly that she thought that the vampires around them might have just jumped on them out of instinct, but there were a few Dawnguard warriors in the thick of it, as well as a few of the Companions.

She ripped the splinter from his back, garnering a tight little hiss and maybe a whimper, but by then Lucia had freed herself and was working on the mans bound hands, tied behind his back. Sofie made a quick perusal of the wound, before deciding that they could cut out whatever she had missed later, and they needed to move, now. With shaking hands, she managed to press against the wound on both sides, one on his back and one on his front, and she pushed as much as she could into the spell. She must have blacked out at some point, because when she came back to herself Calder was carrying her up the stairs, and Lucia had stolen a crossbow and bolts from a fallen Dawnguard and was firing at whatever tried to stop them from ascending the stairs. Valencia swooped past them, fire rippling wildly from her shoulders like a cape.

It wasn't until a vampire stopped them on the stairs that Sofie realized how close they were to dying. Most of the warriors raiding the castle had pushed deeper into the main hall, leaving the front door wide open. There may have been more allies outside, but here and now, a Night Master vampire was stood between them and the relative safety of outside. Calder dropped her on her feet and lashed out with a fist, which surprised the creature enough for it to falter. Lucia was already dragging her up the last of the steps, however with Valencia and Penelope at their sides. A Companion, Njada, had gone to aid Calder, throwing him some kind of axe, but they were already out into the hallway and then into the watery sunlight outside. To meet a Gargoyle, the monster turning from its fight against what looked to be a werewolf, and that was it. The things eyes locked onto them, and Lucia seemed to freeze. It must have been taking orders, since it threw the werewolf off with a resounding crack of a fist against the dogs nose, before barrelling at them with a speed that made it blur. Sofie felt the thing hit her, and felt Lucia's hand torn from hers, and then she was looking up at the sky, the wolf snuffling at her face.

She sat up, and the wolf seemed to nod before taking off after the Gargoyle.

That thing had taken Lucia.

Sofie did what she thought was right. She ran.

xxx

Lucia hit the tiles hard, barely able to take in the chaos of the throne room. She rolled out of the way of a huge Nord that was fighting some kind of dunmeri vampire, the two of them too battle-haze to even notice her. The gargoyle was screeching, seemingly unable to see her with all the noise and movement. Whatever had hit it hard enough for the thing to drop her, she was thankful for it. She could see Argis driving his way through what looked to be a night master vampire's guard, the things blades unable to stop the mans brute strength. But his eyes were glazed with rage, as if something had fully taken him over. Jordis was at his back, a whirlwind of lightning hair and the bright venomous glint of her glass battleaxe. Whatever safety she would find with them, she knew it wouldn't last long. She made a move to huddle underneath one of the nearby tables, eyes peeled for her father.

Artan wasn't hard to miss. He was enveloped in a ball of pure sunlight, a thin black akaviri blade at his side with an ugly, twisting dark magic at his other. Something in that mass cracked, and a pale white slip of a creature slunk out to take the shape of a man in the Dark Brotherhood robes. Something in that man was broken, but it didn't seem to matter much since he was already slashing away at the vampires who tried to crowd Pa's back. She barely recognised Eirian, cloaked in lightning and practically howling.

There wasn't many brave enough to approach her, but by the looks of it she was in a fight with a few of the higher ranked vampires. It seemed scarily balanced. Jakk was the one who found her, huddled under that table and unsure at what to do.

He dragged her out, and took her hand, and made her run.

This was strange. It hadn't really hit her before, how strange this was. It had been a bluff when she said Dad would come. She didn't expect him to actually show up. He had the slavers to deal with. And so many people had come with him. Uncle Jakk was practically dragging her now, before he just turned on his heel and plucked her from the floor. A vampire appeared over his shoulder, and she screamed.

But the vampire burnt up like a potato lost in the fireplace, and Sofie appeared at his hip, screaming wildly.

Lucia didn't expect that, either.

Jakk took off at a run, and that was it. She couldn't tell him about the ice shard. It was too fast, and it had already hit him in the back, downing them both. Lucia was quick to push him up, and he was screaming, and Sofie was there at his side crying, still too tired from healing Calder, and Scouts was-

There was a very big space around them now Scouts had practically barrelled to Jakk's side. A few opportunistic vampires had begun closing in when Jakk went down, and Scouts, well, he was practically a blur of rage. Whenever he stood still, still enough to think, to think about roaring at the ones that got too close. Dawnbreaker was a sliver of cold fire at his side, and between them it was enough to give the predators pause.

But it was when Dad appeared that she felt calm.

It was weird how things went from unadulterated fear to a tranquil quiet just by his appearance in the fray. He was at Scouts side, sunlight in his hands, and even though they were outnumbered, even though most of the other fighters were working their way through the castle and far enough away that they would get no help, well. She felt safe.

She should have felt sick watching the body parts go flying, but she didn't.

And when the khajiit turned, his thu'um practically warping the air around his mouth and throat, when he walked straight up to them to kneel beside Jakk's head, start pumping that healing energy into the fallen Khajiit's wound, his eyes were the most unsure part of him. He seemed confused, relieved, and a huge maelstrom of emotions all at once. Lucia waited, where Sofie didn't. Sofie practically plastered herself to his side, sobbing and crying wildly. Jakk managed to sit up at one point, and Scouts had knelt by his side. The two cats shared a look, before Jakk turned to Scouts and simply passed out against the Argonian's chest.

And Lucia was still frozen, knelt on the bloodied and scorched tiles of Volkihar castle.

That is, until a clawed hand coiled around her head and tugged her into a hug. And just like that, everything broke, and she was crying right next to Sofie, the cat's arms around them both, both their heads wet from his tears. Pa's arms.

xxx

"He's been pushed back into the throne room, Artan. We can't get through the doors without some kind of key it seems," Lydia snarled, still angry from being thwarted at the last hurdle. Looking down at the cat huddled with his kids, however, did soften that anger. Argis wasn't here to see it; he was with Vilkas and Farkas, heading a small group that were clearing out the vampires deeper inside the castle. As it was, only herself, Jordis and Lefty had stayed where the others had all disappeared. The companions as well as S'haira had begun hunting the vampires who had fled, since apparently a group led by Orthjolf had escaped just as Odaviing landed. Apparently they figured Harkon dead in the water. Serana had become an invaluable source of information, as was Iona. Iona had led Cicero and a few of the Companions whelps into what was supposedly the sleeping area, and was currently cleaning house, as she put it.

That sweet kid, Hroar, was dead. Mjoll too, most likely, as well as Aerin. Lydia didn't know how to feel about any of this. Most of Riften was most likely either a thrall or a bloodied lump being fed from right now.

What she did know, was that this wasn't about Harkon's supposed care for his daughter. It was most likely about the Elder scroll.

Fuck.

They didn't have time for this. What if those slavers really were being led by Larethius? At the moment, they knew that one of the teams was his, but none of the others had been. The Companions had routed another group who had experienced slavers in their ranks, but they had been wearing a different set of armor. Still customized, but with a mark that Jakk hadn't recognised, and neither had Eirian. Could it have been a fluke before? Could someone had left Larethius' employ but just kept the armor, the armor that Bard had retrieved alongside Arnsien's pelt? They had a key, and a heading, but what if it led them further away from Larethius? What if he wasn't even remotely involved?

It didn't matter, she decided. They still had a job to do, a job that involved ridding Skyrim of the monsters trying to enslave its people.

Artan stood, but not without nuzzling Lucia and Sofie's hair in turn. "I'll get that door open."

"We'll keep the girls company," Jordis nodded at him when he turned, but Artan shook his head.

"Kill whatever comes near them. Keep them safe," he went to stride past the two of them, but stopped between them instead. He clapped a hand to each of the women's shoulders, before nodding tightly at Lefty, and then carried on.

xxx

Artan didn't know how to feel about anything, anymore.

His girls were safe, but these fuckers had gotten them so easily. He had practically left Riften defenceless because he figured the Dawnguard were right next door, and well who would attack Riften? It was next door to a guild of vampire hunters, and well it was a shithole so most people didn't even think to try and take the city. Maven had enough deals going with the Thalmor and Elenwen that the elves didn't really give it a second glance.

It didn't make sense.

Was he going senile? He literally took everyone from Riften after he said he would make it into a safe place for his girls, at the drop of a hat. The second that they got a lead on the slavers, he literally dropped everything and took everyone with him on a wild goose chase. He could have taken down that slaver group in the pine forest with half of the people they had. He could have left more people behind, and maybe Riften would still be standing. Maybe Lucia and Sofie wouldn't have gone through what they had.

And that was it, wasn't it?

He needed these slavers dead, and that was that.

But he had one more thing to take care of with these vampires, too.

He kicked the door leading into the throne room, but it stayed firmly shut. A few of the Dawnguard who had been loitering around the door, waiting to see if Harkon would try to run, seemed to snicker at that a little. Serana looked ready to puke, or kill them, or just walk away. Artan looked to her, and actually regarded her for a few moments. "You should leave. I… don't think you want to see what happens next."

Serana didn't say anything, but sat at the steps leading to the throne room.

Artan nodded back, and turned to the door again.

The Dawnguard lackeys stopped laughing when the full Unrelenting Force shout rolled from Artan's tongue, his throat expanding and deflating as he pushed the words out. The door practically disintegrated under the pressure, and the cat drew a newly-retrieved Dawnbreaker from his hip and stepped into the room, Valencia and Penelope flanking him.

He didn't let Harkon talk, didn't grace the evil villains monologue with an audience. It was fierce, the fight, but it was obvious when the fear started beading up around the vampire's eyes that he knew he was going to die. It was easier than expected, tearing the ugly leather wings from the creatures back, breaking one knee, and the other ankle, and then simply working his way up. He was glad in the end that nobody was there to see him.

Nobody was there to see, and the Atronachs wouldn't tell.

Dawnbreaker scorched away all of the sins Artan made that day, and when he exited the throne room, and walked down those blackened steps with Serana at his side and the Dawnguard at his back, the Companions in their human-skin filtering in to follow, the girls on either side and Argis at the door, well.

It was a victory, and more so a reminder to the Province.

Don't fuck with the Dragonborn.

xxx

It was an even harder battle to tell the congregated mass that he was postponing the slaver hunt for the moment. Well, less of a battle and more of a flat declaration. "I am taking my kids to Markarth, and from there I'll get some plans together about the slaver situation."

Eirian returned to Whiterun with her Companions, but not without giving both girls a kiss to their crowns and a few hugs. Jakk, well, Jakk had given a pained smile, hugged his brother and his nieces, and said that he needed some time to get his shit in check. Him and Scouts left with S'haira, Lefty and Cicero the day after Eirian, people slowly peeling away from the group until it was just the girls, their dad and the housecarls.

And Serana.

She was less broken up about her father than Artan expected. He supposed that she had already mourned the loss of her father, and now, well now his ghost had just followed him into death.

It was a rather quiet return to Markarth.

He still hadn't fully explained what really happened with Iona's attackers yet, and he knew that was coming. Lydia had asked her how one of the men who had attacked Honeyside had been a vampire when two bodies had been strung up outside the Bee and Barb, at which Iona had no answer. Jordis looked to be more or less decided about how that had occurred, but hadn't voiced her concern. In the end he cut off all the crazy ideas about it and straight up told them he strung up two bandits bodies instead. When asked why, he pointed out that it was bad enough that Riften's Jarl blatantly flaunted her patronage of the Thieves Guild, let alone the idea that she had vampires in her pocket also. Even the rumour alone might have opened doors for her, and Artan didn't put it past Maven to sell "stolen goods" from the quiet settlements in the Rift to Vampire covens.

Argis pointed out that she wouldn't possibly sell her own people to vampires as cattle. Artan just laughed and patted the Nord on the back.

Xxx

It had been maybe a day until Calder sat down at the big table and asked the million septim question. "What the hell are we doing? And what the hell is going to happen to Riften?"

Lydia moved from stuffing the sword polish back into the drawer beside one of the mannequins in the kitchen, back to her seat at the end of the table, easily settling in to listen. Jordis poured her a cup of wine and put down her canis root for a moment while she re-crossed her legs and too, got ready for the answers. Argis just sighed and plopped back into his seat a moment after getting up, crossing his arms. Even Lucia and Sofie looked up from their plates, silent and listening. They still hadn't talked to anyone but each other about Hroar, or Runa, or any of the other kids. Not even Mr. Sweetroll and Princess Sithis came up in conversation anymore. Artan didn't want to push them, but still, he was worried. Iona and Serana were loitering in the doorway between the alchemy room and the kitchen, red-head with a tankard of ale and other with what Artan hoped to be a new kind of spirit that would work better than Stros M'kai. Scouts and Jakk had even bothered to bunker down for a while, the Argonian seemingly more normal than whatever world he had been in on the journey here.

Still.

"We have a week until the people I sent for get here. A week. In that time, I am going to Solitude to get Tulius to give me a few Legionnaires to retake Riften with. With the recent attack on the city, it means that they'll want someone to go in, and naturally that someone's going to be me. I'll also be updating him on the current status of the slaving rings, as well as… everything else. Hopefully I can broker a full peace treaty between the Empire and the last of the Stormcloaks. If everything goes to plan, I'll have Talia's men as well as the Legionnaires retake Riften, cement a full alliance and use the resulting mega-alliance to crush the slavers. As you lot know, we don't know if these slavers are being led by Larethius. One man out of the hundred or so that ourselves or our allies have killed has had one of the man's hallmarks on it, so we can't really make a conclusion. But I wont lie to you, it is very, very fucking bad right now," Artan sighed, pressing his hands into the crook of each elbow. "If shit goes down the way I think it will... then I won't be able to protect any of you from what will happen."

The silence was sickening.

"But as things are, you lot are the last defence against the shitstorm that's gonna be heading our way. And you need to be ready for what that means. Right here, right now, is where I have to draw the line. Over the last few months you've seen the edges of the things after me and Jakk, and Eirian, and Talia, well all of us Summerset six are like. This shit ain't nice, and being honest, it's the mildest part of the things that could have happened. This is just the lukewarm bit of the bath before the hot water really gets going, you understand? So I need you all to make a choice today. I'm going tomorrow with Jakk to Solitude, and I need people here to look after my girls. I need to know that whatever happens, they will be taken care of. That you idiots will be alright. So, here's my plan. Whoever stays, stays. And if the shit hits the fan, I need whoever's left to take the girls away from this shithole. I have money set up everywhere in the province, each in a little room like Riften's basement. You take that and you get away. I'll write up a list for each of you to memorize about getting new identities and moving into a new country, I'll set you up with contacts and things to keep you out of trouble. You'll survive this, whatever happens. Or the second option is that you head out tomorrow morning. I'll give you the rest of this years pay, and then that's it. I cannot make you face the shit that's coming for us, and if you can't handle that, then it's safest for you to go now. I can't… I can't guarantee how safe anyone will be if you stay," Artan finished, looking at each of the crowded and greenish housecarls, to the stone-dead vampires, to the determined Jakk, and finally to his girls. Sofie was staring at him, indecipherable expression on her face, while Lucia looked-

"You're seriously planning to give up, then?" Lucia more or less spat at him, bringing a shocked silence in to cover the sick silence from before. She looked more or less like a thrashing snake at this point, head shaking from side to side.

"I'm not giving up, Lucia. I'm making a safety net in case-" Artan tried, but Lucia cut over him.

"It sounds like it. You've probably already got a funeral service in mind," she snarled, pushing up from the table to glare at him better.

Artan threw his hands up a little, "I haven't given up, I just-"

"Then why-"

"Because I can't protect you anymore," Artan roared, throwing both arms out and away from him and catching a nearby vase, sending the thing flying. A few of the closer housecarls twitched at the sudden outburst, but soon quieted, for once ignoring the shattered pottery littered across the room. The cat glanced distractedly at the pieces, before hissing and drawing his arms back in so he could rub his face with his hands. "You fucking Nords don't make it easy, do you?"

"You're making plans for when you fucking die, what do you expect?" Lucia snarled, taught fists tightening even further.

"The men I paid the keep a lookout for Larethius' men are mostly dead. Dead," Artan repeated, ignoring the shocked little gasps around the room. "The entire of the Rift has gone dark, and the Thieves have gone underground to protect themselves as per Mercer Frey's orders. The Brotherhood is already out in the field, but even they can't keep enough pressure on these slaving units, especially since they have more money as well as more manpower than I can pour into the Brotherhood. If these slavers really are Larethius hiding behind a bunch of smoke and mirrors, then we can't let anything fall into his hands. All he needs is one little thing and he can pin me down, you understand? All they have to do is link Artan to the Brotherhood and he will say, 'hey I sunk a bunch of money into a bunch of assassin cats, and here we have an assassin cat that plays cute with nobles. I bet its one of the cubs I had trained. Oh goodness gracious, they do so say that old habits die hard,' is what he'll fucking say. And it won't take much to dig up information after that. He'll have anyone under my employ on a rack before you could blink. And when he catches wind of any of you, then he'll-"

"He'll what? Attack?" Lucia snorted, hair thrashing around her. "He's already attacking, and regardless of what you think we're already in this. The moment you became their Thane it was a done deal. The moment you dragged her out of the snow," the kid hissed, motioning towards the scattered housecarls, and then towards Sofie before continuing, "and the moment you let me in was the moment this became a done deal. I'm not going to stand around listening to you try and justify going away. You say it's to protect us, but what you don't seem to get is that we aren't letting you run away from us."

"You don't seem to-"

"No! You don't understand!" She shrieked, making the cat jolt in surprise. She didn't even take a breath in before she carried on in that harsh, desperate tone. "When my ma died I had nobody! Nobody! I looked after the farm alone until my aunt Narrina and her husband came along! I thought they would take care of me, but they just threw me out! That I was the half-cast kid of her sister and that Nord trash! Not even my blood family wanted me!" A foot slammed down, and she was shaking, but Lucia didn't stop. "And it wasn't until I got to Whiterun, finally, after all the wolves and bears and I was terrified but I kept going, and even then, nobody but Brenuin helped me. They looked at me like Narrina did. Like I wasn't worth squat," the girl spat, and at some point she had begun crying, but she didn't reach out, and Artan was too shocked to move.

"And then I met Sofie, and I thought fuck, you know what, I'll be fine. Because someone who's genuinely nice is still around. The world isn't as big of a fucking waste as I'd figured," she laughed, hard, almost disbelieving. "And when she said, Luu there is nice things. Just like you, I laughed at her. I thought she was a stupid kid. But when that vamp went for her, I just moved. I couldn't… I couldn't even imagine letting it hurt her. And I kind of figured, yeah, there are nice things, and I' gonna get strong enough to defend them. Doesn't matter what happens, I'll defend them," she choked out, the tears stopping, and her voice growing slightly quieter. It didn't waver, though. "To be honest though, when you first invited me to live with you, I couldn't believe it. Even if I knew you'd grow tired, you'd figure out eventually that you made a mistake. I was ready for that. But you never did."

A choked sob rattled out, but she just clenched her fists tighter, stormed closer to the cat until both arms were tight around his chest. He forgot how tall she had gotten in the last few months, since she rarely ever hugged him anymore. Too cool for that. "You never threw me out. Even when I set Hrongar's beard alight, or when I put itching powder into Yngvar's smalls, or when I let wild geese loose in Maven's mansion, or when I trained those chickens to attack Nazeem on sight, or when I started putting animal hearts into peoples pockets in the market, or when I shot Brynjolf by accident. You never even considered getting shot of me, when it would have been easier if you had. I was so surprised that you kept me around, and even defended me from all these things over the years. But I get it, you love us. And we love you." She had stopped shaking, and Artan had barely settled against her, chin resting on her head and arms draped across her shoulders before both fists near enough tearing holes in his shirt startled him enough to tighten his grip. "So you aren't leaving us, and he's not taking you. And don't you dare start making shitty ass plans as if you're gonna die. We're gonna do what we've always done."

"Grind them into the dust?" Sofie called out, strangely chirpy.

"And then some," a muffled growl replied, the fists tightening even more.

Sofie let out a high squeal, before jumping straight into the hug, both arms easily catching both cat and imperial. Argis had an even easier time of it; huge arms easily covering all three of the skinny whelps. Calder had to be dragged over by Jordis, who wrapped easily around at least three people. Lydia made a grumble but still joined in, as did Serana and Iona in varying levels of enthusiasm. Jakk and Scouts also joined in on what turned into the biggest group hug under Vlindrel Hall's roof, and then what deteriorated into what Scouts called a 'puppy puddle' when some asshole knocked a few knees and sent everyone into a heap on the floor. Calder said just call it a fucking mess and be done with it.

xxx

AN: I'm really sorry about how late this came out, but life hit me in the head like a fucking train the last few months. Long story short, I've had a eath in the family as well as a slight relapse with my depression, so between those it was always gonna be a late update. But yeah.

What I did want to say is that this story will always update at some point until its finished. I won't turn around and just stop updating forever. It might take me a little while, but i will upate until the story is done. I wont leave it hanging.

but yeah. dunno what else to say, really. except im kind of scared about the next few chapters content. haha. it'll be good, dont worry.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter

And as always, Thank You for reading my work :)

~Frog