Vampires attack and Felwinter takes it about as well as you'd expect. Beginning of the Dawnguard arc.
Chapter Fourteen
"Felwinter," Eorlund grumbled just barely over the sound of his striking hammer, "He's not yet returned?"
"No," was all Moth replied. He stood away from the Skyforge, positioned above and looking over Jorrvaskr's training grounds, where his children trained.
"Strange." Moth heard the familiar sound of hot metal submerged in water, "He's usually much quicker than this," Eorlund said.
"Business at the College was all the letter said," Moth said bluntly, just how Eorlund preferred, "He will be back when he gets back."
"Most people show a little bit more concern for their spouses."
"Most people aren't married to a one man siege."
For the first time in what was probably weeks, Eorlund laughed. "I will give you that."
"Hit harder, Samuel!" Moth yelled, his voice resonating down below. The boy tightened up, remembering that he was being watched.
"They're learning how to fight," Eorlund said, coming to stand next to him, "What do you think of their prospects?"
Moth had asked Felwinter the same question just a month prior. He was all too happy to display the hole Samuel burned through his clothing.
"The boy is strong in magic; better at it than with a sword," he said, watching Samuel falter to a charging Farkas once again, "Lucia seems to be the better fighter."
"You're teaching them magic?" The old man asked, eyebrow raised.
"It's a tool. Like a sword or hammer," Moth frowned. Malacath's balls, he sounded like Felwinter.
"Mages can set a house on fire on a whim."
"So can a dedicated idiot with matches and enough chicken grease," he shot back.
Eorlund barked out a harsh laugh, "So I guess Felwinter is their tutor in that area?"
"He teaches the science. I teach the ethics."
"Huh?"
"He teaches the 'can you'; I teach the 'should you'."
"Ah." Eorlund struck hot metal once more and paused, "Felwinter's the dedicated idiot, isn't he?"
Moth closed his eyes and sighed wearily, "He just wanted to see if he could do it. Building was set for demolition anyway."
"Is that also how Heimskr's place keeps catching fire?"
"I wouldn't know. Accidents happen," he intoned like he was a bard reading from a script.
"Of course."
"Samuel! Lucia!" Moth yelled from his post, "You're done." Samuel fell to the ground with a dramatic, exaggerated groan. Farkas snorted audibly. He really was his father's son.
"Put the weapons back and and go." He waved his hand to signal their dismissal. Farkas found himself swarmed with children all but throwing their weapons at him. Moth watched them take off, a hint of fondness when they smiled at him in passing. He stepped forward, sitting down on the rock he had been perched on with a small groan of discomfort at the twinge in his knee; an old injury.
He fell into a comfortable quiet; staring out into the distance, listening to the blacksmith working behind him, the warriors training below him, the people of the city. For the first time, he found himself truly missing Felwinter; sharing moments like these with him where they would just sit with each other in silence, save for the occasional unfiltered thought flying from his mouth.
Then the sound of heavy footsteps broke his peace, originating from Dragonsreach; armored feet running.
He turned, "What-" an explosion rocked the City. Thick plumes of smoke rose up into the air, originating from the entrance.
Then a child screamed and Moth's blood froze over.
He leapt from Skyforge's perch, rolling as he hit hard stone. Ignoring the discomfort that had grown to full blown pain, he sprinted and shoved past panicked citizens and guards, making it to the town's center.
It was a large group, fully armed and armored. A mix of Men and Mer, all seemingly united in one goal; slaughter everyone in the city.
Lucia and Samuel were nowhere in sight.
Moth ducked just in time to avoid two spears of ice hurtling towards his head. Moth was tackled to the ground by one of the assailants, just barely grabbing his opponent's wrist in time to stop him from plunging a dagger into Moth's throat.
There he got a good look at him and fear threatened to overwhelm him.
Deathly pale skin, dark gold eyes and an overwhelming sense of dread and rot and wrong.
Vampires.
Attacking in broad daylight.
Spit dribbled from the man's fangs as he tried to force the dagger down and Moth desperately turned away to avoid it getting into his eyes or mouth. Positioning his fingers as quickly and surreptitiously as he could, Moth squeezed the vampire's wrist until the bone gave way with an audible snap. As the assailant reeled back in pain, Moth got his feet under the vampire and kicked him hard enough to send him flying backwards into the air. The Orsimer scrambled to his feet, ran over and delivered a punishing kick to the soft part of the man's stomach to keep him down. Then he brought his foot over to the vampire's neck and stomped down, silencing the abomination.
The attackers were pouring through the gates now and by the looks of it, they were all vampires. Left and right, guards were being ganged up on and struck down. Moth saw Amren snap the shaft of an arrow lodged in his shoulder and continue running towards Dragonsreach with a terrified, stunned Braith in his arms. A vampire attempted to give chase only to meet the business end of Adrienne and Ulfberth's weapons.
"Papa!" Moth turned around, his heart singing in relief despite the chaos. Both Samuel and Lucia were running at him with Lydia close behind, sword and shield drawn and ready.
He caught Samuel first, lifting him into his arms. "Lydia! We need to get to Dragonsreach!"
Her eyes flicked from his to behind him. "Get back!" she yelled, moving around him and bringing up her shield. The vampire's blade bounced off of it and Lydia used the recoil to run him through. Lucia screamed again, the sound drowned out by footsteps running closer.
"Lydia!" Moth yelled again over the chaos and panic, "Take the kids to Dragonsreach."
"Me?! What about you?!"
"I'll keep them off your back!" The look on her face said she was contemplating just throwing him over her shoulder. "Lydia, the children are always priority! Go!"
She stared for only a second before she sheathed her sword, grabbed both of them in one hand and fled for Dragonsreach. He ignored his children crying his name.
"Moth!" He turned in time to see Vilkas toss him a sword. Grabbing it out of the air by the handle, Moth quickly and viciously struck down the nearest vampire, splattering her diseased blood all over. On the rooftop, Aela was loosing arrow after arrow, aiming for heads and hearts.
"Where's Farkas?" Moth asked when Vilkas had gotten close.
"Protecting Dragonsreach with the others," Vilkas huffed, drawing his own weapon, "Shit time for Felwinter to be late. Did they plan this?"
"If they did, it's going to fail." Moth kicked over one of the vampire corpses and took up her weapon, now having a blade in each hand. Together, he and Vilkas ran into the crowd, running a vampire through from behind before he could finish off the guard he had pinned to the ground. As the downed guard scrambled to his feet, Moth could hear another vampire running at him, yelling with fury. Moth turned and widened his stance, preparing himself to meet him.
Then, without warning, a deep black shadow blotted out the sun. Just as quickly as it came, it was gone and the vampire had disappeared with it.
A dragon, crimson as spilled blood, held the vampire in its massive claws, carrying him high into the air before letting him return to the ground on his own, landing on the hard stone building with a resounding crash. The dragon adjusted its flight to bring itself back over Whiterun. It perched atop the remains of the city gate and let out a roar that would have deafened Moth were he even the smallest bit closer.
"Moth." Aela slowly came up behind him, leaving her post on the room. Her arrow still nocked and ready, eyes never leaving the beast on the walls, even as it ignored her in favor of the vampires. "The dragon. Am I the only one who thinks we've seen it before?"
Moth stared at the dragon. The dragon paused in its Shouting to stare right back.
Under its feet was Felwinter, stomping through Whiterun's ruined wooden gates; bloodied Dawnbreaker clutched in one hand, the struggling body of a vampire being dragged behind him in the other. Raising Dawnbreaker up by its hilt with the blade point downward, a pulse of bright light blasted outward. Every single vampire froze in their tracks and turned towards the source.
Without a word, Felwinter hefted the struggling vampire up and wrapped his arm around his neck, hand over his mouth. A single bolt of electricity was the only warning they got before the vampire in his arm exploded in a brilliant display of lightning; thrashing violently, screams muffled by Felwinter's hand.
Felwinter never broke eye contact with the crowd. Never even blinked. The vampire's smoking eyes rolled up into the back of his head and Felwinter let him go, letting him unceremoniously drop to the ground. Behind him, Vilkas cursed at the display. Moth could've swore he heard Odahviing chuckle under his breath, still perched above their heads like the shadow of death.
Felwinter opened his mouth, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "Good," he said, a tiny smirk gracing his lips, "Now that I've got everyone's attention…YOL TOOR SHUUUULLL!" A spear of fire lanced out from Felwinter's mouth, the intense heat and the bright light felt from a distance.
This time, it was the attackers' turn to scream and they did, either in fury, panic or pain as Felwinter's fire enveloped them.
Odahviing took off into the air again, swooping down only to grab two vampires in his deadly jaw and take them with him.
Down on the ground, Felwinter suddenly bolted through the wall of flame he had created, running one of the vampires through with Dawnbreaker. Faster than any of them could register, he ripped it out and buried it in the skull of another vampire, whose body suddenly exploded in a blast of light, setting other undead assailants on fire.
"Aela! Vilkas! Get back to Dragonsreach!" Moth ordered, starting in Felwinter's direction.
"Are you mad! Do you see how many of them are still here?!"
"He and I can handle them," Moth silenced his arguments, "Our families, the citizens are priority. Go! Reinforce them!"
Aela ran off first. Vilkas took a few hesitant steps backwards before following. Moth ran back towards Felwinter, charging a vampire, running her through with his blade and knocking her to the ground. He stood and jerked to the side just barely in time to avoid a spear of ice aimed point blank at his skull, throwing his sword arm upwards on instinct and dismembering his opponent before cutting them down.
Still they kept coming. All of the guardsmen who had stayed behind were on the ground, dead or bleeding out. Moth only just started noticing when he was facing the same person a second or a third time, the vampires raising and weaponizing the bodies of their comrades. He was revolted to no end.
Moth brought up his weapon to parry an incoming attack. The blades locked together and both fighters pushed, both trying to overpower the other with Moth obviously having the advantage. Leaning in close, Moth sent a knee into the vampire's stomach, taking advantage of the distraction to push him away. The Orsimer stepped forward to finish him off and he could see the quick decision the vampire's eyes to switch from strength to focusing on speed.
Moth brought the blade down from overhead. The vampire twisted out of the way and Moth struck nothing but air. Slipping under Moth's arms with blade raised, he drove in and Moth went deathly still.
There was no pain. None at all. Just the foreign and disturbing pressure of something being where it wasn't supposed to be.
But when the shock finally died down, the pain still had no room to enter. His mind was already filling with something else.
Red washed over the world in Moth's vision. The gum of his thick sharp tusks practically hummed with the need to sink into flesh and bite down until the flesh stopped moving. He grabbed the still close vampire's head in his hands and threw his own head forward, ramming him in his face at full strength. Then he did it again. A second time. A third. A fourth until the vampire was choking on the blood of his crushed nose; his face already beyond recognition.
Then faster than any eye could see, Moth swung his fist at his opponent's battered face, the head and neck twisting at a horrifying angle on impact.
Moth still felt nothing. Not when he ripped the blade from his gut and struck the nearest attacker hard enough to shatter it. Not when he charged, roaring further into the fray; striking one vampire hard enough in the ribs to cave it in and striking another hard enough send the contents of her skull spewing into the midday sun, audibly snapping two of his own fingers and not even when two lightning bolts smashed into him; doing little but stagger him.
The stagger was all the vampire mage needed. He dashed forward, past Moth's deadly hands, moved in close and sank his fangs into Moth's throat.
It was then. It was then the pain set in.
Moth's hands shakily went to the vampire's shoulders, pushing weakly against him. The red in his sight slowly faded away and the world became crystal clear.
He looked at Felwinter and time had all but stopped. His husband was staring at him, eyes and mouth wide open with a level of shock and horror that Moth had never before seen in a person before. Despite everything, Moth felt a slight annoyance. The remaining vampires bearing down on him and Felwinter gets distracted. He shouldn't be surprised.
They were going to hurt him. He couldn't let them.
Strength flowed back into Moth's arms. He lifted them, putting his hands on both sides of the vampires still clamped mouth. Then he pulled, slowly forcing the fangs out of his neck. And he kept pulling, slowly forcing the bottom half of his jaw away from the rest of his head.
The vampire screamed in pain, arms thrashing and clawing at Moth violently. Still Moth pulled, muscles singing. He pulled until he could almost feel the skin and bones in the vampire's jaw give away. Pulled until the man's mouth no longer resisted.
His arms fell and his hands opened, the lower half of a vampire's jaw falling from one hand, bloody tattered skin and splintered bone. The rest of him falling from the other.
Time had barely passed. Felwinter was slowly turning towards him, still ignoring the vampires coming at him. Moth took a step forward and felt his knees give way. He felt a river of warmth gushing from his neck and down his clothing.
Felwinter's eyes blew open wider as Moth slowly pitched forward. The world grew dimmer, fainter.
The last thing Moth heard in the roaring silence was his name being screamed.
Then an explosion that shook the world.
Irileth pushed through the crowd of guards at Dragonsreach's entrance, "Report!"
"It's gotten quiet," one guard answered immediately, "After the second explosion, we stopped hearing anything."
"And that Dragon?"
"Out of the city. It seems to have flown away."
"Irileth!" Aela pushed past the crowd, "That Dragon. It was the one the Harbinger had captured before."
"Yes I noticed that." So Felwinter had arrived in the nick of time. But then why haven't they seen him yet? What had caused that explosion? And why was it so quiet.
Swallowing her dread, the Dunmer turned her attention back to the men, "I need five of you to come with me! Farkas and Aela, you're coming too. Commander Caius," she called, drawing the Imperial's attention away from his guards, "If I don't send out the all clear signal in ten minutes, seal Dragonsreach completely."
She drew her weapon and took off down the stairs into the city without waiting for his response. She could hear the others she had ordered stomping after her, trying to catch up. They slowed in their run before reaching the center. Farkas moved up to the front, drawing his massive blade and taking point with Irileth. Then did they slowly round the corner to face the entrance.
Various paths to various gods were made. Even Irileth, who had seen war time after time, had to force her own shock and revulsion back down.
Body parts were strewn everywhere. Everything from fingers to legs to heads and torsos were charred black and already dissolving into dust. Smoking ash covered the streets, the plants, even the buildings and homes.
At the center of the ring of ash was Felwinter, staring off into nothing, tightly clutching a bloodied Moth in his arms. Moth's belly rose and fell weakly. He was unconscious and just barely breathing.
Irileth quickly raised her hand and sent a gout of fire into the air, signaling the all clear.
Still she kept her distance. The Dragonborn looked even more unhinged and unstable than she had ever seen him. Felwinter didn't even seem to register that they were there. A sudden, unexpected move and they could end up just like the vampires.
Vocalizations of shock and surprise caused her to tear her attention away from the Dragonborn. Caius and a group of others had seen her signal and come down from the castle.
Danica pushed through the guards, holding the skirt of her robes up and running towards Felwinter and Moth, ignoring the look in his eye. She kneeled before the both of them and looked over Moth. Felwinter barely responded to her as she looked over him to.
Irileth moved closer, "Danica, is Moth-"
"Alive," she answered quickly, "Badly injured but alive. He lost quite a bit of blood, through a neck wound judging by this mark. But it seems it was closed up." Only then did she look up at Felwinter. "Felwinter?" She said. She grabbed his bearded chin and gently turned his head towards her, "Moth will live. He's a strong man. You did well."
Felwinter blinked. Probably what was for the first time. The only form of acknowledgement they received. "Danica, what's wrong with him? Why isn't he moving?"
"He's having a panic attack," she said, moving back, "We need to move both of them. I have to tend to Moth's injuries and Felwinter needs to calm down. Farkas?"
The big Nord was already moving in. Danica gently unraveled Felwinter's arms and moved them away to let Farkas lift Moth up and quickly carry him back to the temple.
"Irileth," she heard Caius walk up, "What…happened here?"
She jerked her chin at Felwinter, who was being helped up to his feet by Aela and one of the guardsmen. "He happened."
Something akin to fear flashed the Commander's eyes. But it was gone as soon as it came. "We'll…clean up here. Tell the Jarl the dead count at six guards and no civilians."
She nodded, "I will, Commander." She was just about to start making her way up to Dragonsreach when something stopped her.
She went back over to where Felwinter had been and kneeled down, examining a small pool of blood. After ensuring herself it didn't belong to any of the vampires, she extended two fingers, reaching down to touch it.
She didn't need to. From the tiny distance between her fingers and the blood, she could feel it vibrating the air; humming with power.
She looked back at Felwinter, who was just then disappearing with Aela and the guardsman up the stairs and made the decision to keep what she had seen to herself.
Moth's eyes fluttered open, the afternoon sun shining through the ceiling to greet him. Had he really slept that long into the day? He was sure he had-
The memories came rushing back. His entire body tensed and pain coursed through every part of him.
"Shh, it's alright Moth." That was Danica's voice. This was the temple and she was healing him.
"Felwinter," he groaned, trying to sit up again.
"He's fine. He's right here." Moth craned his neck to see Felwinter at his feet, a wool blanket on his shoulders. He was staring straight ahead, fist squeezed like a vice.
"Felwinter." The man blinked slowly and turned his head to face him. Danica pulled her hands back and left to attend to other patients.
Fel took her place, kneeling at his bed side. Moth painfully brought up his unsplintered hand and Felwinter took it in both of his and nuzzled it against his cheek.
"How do you feel?" Felwinter's voice croaked like it was the first time he had spoken in hours.
"In pain. A lot of it," he admitted, feeling the tight bandages around his torso and neck, "But I'm alive. That's what matters."
Felwinter's eyes squeezed shut. "I saw you go down. I saw that monster…I thought he-"
"But he didn't," Moth cut him off. Once he started spiraling, he was hard to stop.
"I love you." Felwinter pressed his forehead to Moth's, "I was scared I'd never get to tell you that again."
"I'm not going anywhere," Moth murmured, tracing his thumb over the wetness in the man's eye. "Have you seen the kids yet?"
"Danica wouldn't let me leave until I calmed down," he answered, "I'm good now. Either way, she's too distracted. I'll slip-"
"Thane Felwinter?" A rather young and harried looking guard, "The Jarl requests your presence in Dragonsreach."
"Is it urgent?" He asked, "I haven't seen my children yet."
"Lucia and Samuel are with him, sir."
Felwinter rubbed his chin, "Tell him I'm on my way." The guard nodded once and hurried off. Felwinter leaned down and kissed Moth, "I'll be back."
The Orc smiled, "Not going anywhere." He kept the smile until Felwinter disappeared. When he did, he brought his hand up to his bandages neck and rubbed, internally shuddering at the close call.
"Papa!" Both children tore themselves from Adrienne and leapt at Felwinter, who caught them and held them both close, murmuring comforting words in their ears.
"Lydia. Ulfberth, Adrienne," he greeted, putting both kids down and grabbed Ulfberth's arm, "I'm glad to see you're alright."
Ulfberth squeezed his arm back, "We're glad you finally showed up."
"Where's Moth, Thane?" Lydia asked.
"He...he was injured in the fight." He pulled Lucia closer when she gasped quietly. Samuel's fist tightened on his pants. "He'll be fine," he finished, hand going up to Samuel's head.
"Felwinter!" Irileth's voice echoed across the hall from her spot up high, "We need to talk."
Felwinter nodded before turning back to them, "Could you all walk them home?"
Adrienne's hand ran gently up Lucia's back, "We'll stop by Moth on the way."
"Thank you." He quickly ran past them and jogged up the stairs to where the arguing had already begun.
"Vampires?!" Balgruuf all but yelled, "Are you certain?!"
"Absolutely," Irileth said, taking his rage as if it was nothing. She was used to this.
"As am I." Felwinter took his place opposite the Jarl, next to Caius and Farengar
Balgruuf rubbed his eyes, "Does Danica know?"
"She does. She's helping to combat any infection that might have been contracted."
Balgruuf leaned over his map before suddenly punching the wooden table. "In daylight! In broad daylight!" He turned on Felwinter, Irileth and Farengar, "You three are mages, are you not?! Explain this!"
"My Jarl, if I may," Farengar pulled a sheet of parchment out of his robes and placed it flat on the table, "An Orsimer man stopped by Arcadia's sometime last week. He told her about this organization called the Dawnguard. Vampire hunters of old."
Balgruuf picked up the paper, his eyes scanned over it for a few seconds before he handed it Felwinter. He immediately folded it and tucked it into one of his pockets, already planning the trip to Dayspring Canyon.
These monsters weren't going to threaten his family ever again.
Commander Caius cleared his throat, "If you're looking for more immediate answers, Jarl Balgruuf, we found a vampire attempting to escape the city."
Felwinter's eyes widened.
"He's in the dungeon," Caius said, "We've subdued his magic. He's not going anywhere. We can question him."
"Let me do it," Felwinter demanded, hands squeezing the wooden edge of the table. Irileth recognizes the look in his eye from before. The vampire wouldn't survive his interrogation. But after just overhearing Caius preparing funeral pyres and how to alert families of their fallen children, there wasn't the slightest hint of sympathy for the vampire.
"Go ahead Felwinter," Balgruuf ordered. "Get us answers. Then dispose of the thing as you wish."
The two guards jumped when the door suddenly slammed open in the silence; silence following hours of blood curdling screams and bone chilling begging emanating from the dungeon they were assigned to guard.
Neither knew the Dragonborn personally but they had both heard enough to know that for all his troublemaking, he was a kind person. The last few hours only served to show that his kindness had limits and this attack had pushed well past it.
Felwinter walked out. A thick plume of smoke flowed after him, heavy with the stench of burnt flesh. "I'm finished," he said. He put a piece of paper to he chest of one of the guards, "Get this to Irileth and the Jarl immediately. And tell them the vampire is dead." He closed the door behind them, "I've already cleaned up the mess."
It was some time before Moth could leave. Despite Danica's attempts to get him to stay at the temple, she had said herself he would be fine. The bed could go to someone who needed it.
It took nearly five minutes for Moth to force himself to his feet, even with Felwinter's help. Every single muscle involved in the movement screamed in protest of each step. Felwinter had offered to let him carry him. Moth was tempted to oblige.
"It's been a long time since I've seen you fight seriously," Felwinter murmured, into the silent night, "Almost forgot I was married to a one man army."
Moth grinned at the memory of his own words. "I fight like a one man army huh?"
"You fuck like one too." His smile was finally back.
Moth laughed for just a second until the pain became too much to stand. His arm around Felwinter's shoulders came up to the man's head on instinct when his fingers touched hairless skin. "Malacath's balls…"
Fel stopped, "What? What is it?"
"I just noticed your hair. When in Oblivion did this happen?"
"Oh!" Felwinter brought one of his own hands up to his head, running it through the thick strip of hair at the center of his head. The sides were shaved bare, like two lands separated by a thick black forest. "That mage in Riften? She calls herself the face changer," he said, "As it turns out, she does hair too."
Moth stared at him for a little while longer, wondering how it took him so long to notice such a jarring change in his appearance. "I like it," he decided, "Makes you look tough."
"I do like looking tough."
"Of course you do." They were in front of the house now. Felwinter slowly pushed the front door open, hoping that the kids would be asleep, even after the day they had. He helped Moth through, magically closing the door behind him while he helped the Orc up the stairs and to their bed.
Felwinter pulled out one of the potions he had been given, helping Moth drink it so the pain wouldn't keep him awake tonight. Then he slowly and quietly started to pull of Moth's shoes, watching his work with an intensity that could almost be felt. He got off both boots and then pulled Moth's pants down, folding it and leaving it neatly on a nearby chair.
He put out the candles, engulfing the room in darkness. Moth could only hear him divest himself of his own clothing and then feel the bed dip and Felwinter's warm body pressed against him, careful to avoid the splintered hand. The sounds of the winds outside and their combined breathing filled their silence.
Moth's mind returned to that morning and how he had wished for something like what they were sharing now. It shouldn't have had to take so much. Maybe one day it won't. But today they were both here. Both alive and for now, it'd have to do.