Chapter 25

Disclaimer: If you have issues with writings depicting torture, please skip to the second section of this chapter. While it is not graphic, some may have hard time with it.

While he would never openly admit it, there was a small part of him that relished in torture. Garen smiled to his Keeper as he approached the torture room of their sanctuary. It had been only a week since he and Serana had bonded and he had been given the time to get information that he sorely needed by his wife a few days prior.

"Ready Cicero?" Garen asked with a dark and evil smile.

"Oh yes Listener. Yes, yes yes!" The mad jester cackled in glee.

"Then let us see to my would be killers, shall we?" Garen grinned wickedly at the Keeper and walked into the pitch black room.

Garen heard muffled groans of discomfort and hunger from the only two occupants of the room. He smiled at their pain and made a ball of blinding white light appear in his palm. The two men, who wore nothing but the bruises that he and the other members had given them in their trip to the sanctuary and the scars from earlier days. They yelled out in pain from the sudden burst of light, causing them to force their eyes shut.

Garen nodded to Cicero and the jester skipped over to his table of toys and tools. He looked over them before picking up a wicked looking scalpel.

"I hope you two have reconsidered my offer." Garen spoke to the two men.

"Fuck you." One of them spat out.

"My wife might object." Garen smirked back and kicked the man hard in the shin. The man cried out in agony at the searing pain that he caused. The day before, Garen had broken the man's legs, but he still held onto his information.

"We will never betray our lord! You are a false dragonborn! There is and only will ever be one!" The other man snarled out at him.

"See that's where you're wrong." Garen chuckled.

"Go head Keeper." Garen nodded to the jester.

Cicero let out a cackle of glee. The jester moved towards the man, his scalpel in hand. Cicero began cutting into the man's skin, carefully flaying it from his flesh. The man let out a cry of pain that filled the halls of their sanctuary.

"One way or another, gentlemen, I will get what I want." Garen spoke calmly as his Keeper pulled a strip of skin from the man.

"Be it in this life, by my hands, or in the next by the hands of Sithis, What information you have will be given to me." Garen spoke, ignoring the cries of the man.

"I will give you this offer every day until you either die, or I get what I want. Give me the location of your master and I will let you live and let you go free."

"And why should we listen to you heretic?" The first man spat out at him.

"It's heretic now huh?" Garen smirked and stood in front of him.

"I'll also let you keep these." Garen smirked and kicked with all his might into the groin of the man.

The man cried out and tried to curl up into a ball on instinct. He smiled grimly at seeing that that man was now sobbing like a three year old lost in a market square.

"How about you?" Garen asked the other man.

Cicero picked up on what he was trying to do and ran the blade of his scalpel up the man's leg and stopped just below his manhood.

"NO! Please!" The man shouted and tried in vein to protect his nethers.

"Tell me what I want, or I'll have my Keeper feed you your own dick." Garen smirked.

"Oh please." The jester cackled out in glee. "Let sweet Cicero do it Listener!"

"No! PLease! I-I'll tell you what you want!" The man screamed out in fear.

"Just-just get this psycho away from me!" The man pleaded as Cicero inched the tool to the base of the man's manhood.

Garen waved Cicero away.

"You're no fun Listener." Cicero pouted.

"Now speak." Garen commanded.

"Solstheim!" The man cried out when Cicero stabbed the man's thigh with his scalpel before walking away from him.

"Our order is based on the island of Solstheim." The man breathed out.

"We are a cult to Lord Hermaeus Mora. The first dragonborn Lord Miraak is our high Priest." The man spoke and tried to protect his nethers as best he could.

"That's impossible." Garen hissed out and his fists clenched at the name of Miraak.

"That traitor died when his temple was leveled in the Dragon Wars!" Garen hissed out.

"The man that you follow is not who he claims he is." Garen snarled.

"But he is the dragonborn!" The man cried out in fear of Garen's tone.

"He is a tongue and nothing more." Garen hissed out and stormed out of the room, Cicero on his heels.

"Let them go." He hissed out.

"But Listener…" The Keeper began, but Garen cut him off with a deathly look.

"Let them go and follow them. After an hour of trailing them, kill them and burn the bodies." Garen spoke in a voice of barely contained rage.

"It will be my pleasure." Cicero cackled out and bowed to him.

Garen stormed out of the Sanctuary.

"Papa!" Garen heard Sofie cry out in joy.

He looked up and smiled at his daughter running down the path towards him. Even though he had been fuming over the information he had received from the cultist, it all seemed to vanish at the sight of Sofie running towards him in glee.

Garen laughed and picked his daughter up in his arms. Sofie placed a kiss to his cheek and he one to her forehead. Sofie hugged him around the neck and he continued his walk towards their home with her in his arms.

"I'm glad you're home." Sofie spoke happily and grinned at him.

"I am too little one." Garen chuckled.

"Please don't leave me home alone with mama again." Sofie pouted.

"And way is that?" Garen chuckled, knowing that his daughter had some silly reason.

"She can't cook." Sofie pouted and Garen nearly dropped her in laughter.

"Don't say that." He laughed out. "I've just had more practice at cooking than your mother has."

Garen spotted Serana watching them walk up to the home. He raised his voice so that his wife could hear him.

"Unlike me, your mother hasn't needed to make her own meals all her life." Garen called out.

Garen could see the glare Serana was giving him from where he was and beamed back at her. He knew that she tried, but she wasn't used to that art that was cooking just yet. He taught her what he could, but he had learned to simply know what would taste good and what wouldn't. Whenever he made a meal, he added some of a myriad of things for spice and flavor. He never used a cookbook and it irked his wife.

"And unlike me, you're father is used to sleeping outside." Serana barked back, but he could hear the playful note in her voice.

"I can handle sleeping under the stars." Garen grinned at her when he got closer. "The question is whether or not you can handle not having your giant pillow with you."

Serana narrowed her eyes at him. She knew just as well as him that he was right, but she didn't want to admit it.

"Did you do what you needed to?" Serana asked, sidestepping his question.

"Yeah, I'll tell you about it later." He smiled to her. He conveyed to her through his eyes, that is smile and demeanor were false, but he didn't want Sofie to know.

"Come on inside, diner is almost ready." Serana smiled to him. Garen set Sofie down who gave a sour look at the thought of Serana's cooking.

"What are you making?" Garen asked, curious to know what his wife was trying today.

"Elk steaks." She replied and Garen licked his lips.

"Making mine extra bloody I hope?" He smiled and felt his mouth watering. Elk was by far his favorite meat, there was no way she could mess up something like it, as elk was easy to cook and didn't need much seasoning.

"Of course." She smiled and he hugged her. Garen heard Sofie sigh and walk off when they kissed and he grinned when the parted.

"I'm glad your home." Serana whispered to him, her voice holding promises and temptations.

Once Garen had tucked Sofie in for the night and told her a story of the Hero of Kvatch, Garen told Serana of what he had found out.

"So who is this Miraak person?" Serana asked. Garen wasn't surprised that she didn't know, few people remembered the first dragonborn.

"Back in the time when Dragons ruled over NIrn, there was a cult that worshiped them as gods. The high priests of the cult were known as Dragon Priests and were often men of great power." Garen spoke calmly to her, trying to remember everything he had read on the time.

"The most powerful of them, was a man named Miraak. It was discovered that he was the first dragonborn shortly before the time when the Dragon Wars started. When the first Tongues, the first Garen Dragonsbane with them, asked for Miraak's help in slaying the dragons the traitor laughed in their faces. He told them that he didn't need the help of pitiful mortals." Garen spoke, keeping his anger in check.

"Miraak turned his back on men and mer and started his own uprising. He slaughtered hundreds of dovah without a problem. One of his initiates was still loyal to the dragons however, and they raised his temple with him in it." Garen told her calmly.

"Even in death, his betrayal of man and mer was not forgiven, and certainly not by me." Garen spoke calmly and Serana placed a soothing hand on his chest.

"There is one good thing that came from it." She smiled to him.

"Had Miraak killed Alduin the first time, you would not have been the last dragonborn. Which means that you may not have lived to meet me." She smiled and rested her forehead against his.

"Had we not met, my life wouldn't been nearly as interesting as it has been." She smirked.

"Nor as fun." She gave him a sly smile before pulling him into a passionate kiss.

"I hate to break the mood, but this must be said." Garen's shoulders slumped when the parted.

"I need to go to Solstheim." He spoke evenly.

"And I'm going with you." Serana replied and he was about to argue, but she cut him off.

"Whether you like it or not I'm going with you. Sofie can stay with Lydia and Talmar while we are gone. I sure as hell am not going to risk you pulling another stupid stunt like the last time I let you go and fight a powerful foe." She gave him a look that gave him no room for argument.

Garen let out a sigh. "If you must come then who am I to argue?" He smiled weakly at her.

After giving Lydia and Talmar a weeks notice, the two happily welcomed Sofie into their home until Garen and Serana could return.

Sofie cried that her parents would be leaving for a time, but Garen managed to get the girl to calm down and promised they would return soon. Sofie protested that that was what her blood father had said, but Garen gave her a look that pushed the thoughts from the girl's mind. He calmly told his daughter that when he made a promise, he would keep it, no matter the cost.

Garen and Serana said their goodbyes to their daughter and friends. Garen could see that Srana was barely holding in tears. He knew that Sofie's words had gotten to her, but she also knew that Garen's word was one of the few things that couldn't be broken.

The two left Whiterun, neither daring to look back, lest they lose their conviction to their daughter's saddened eyes.

Garen ran them to Windhelm, much to his amusement. While Serana could run with him as her own wolf, she claimed that she enjoyed riding him and knew that he liked it. Garen couldn't hold in his laughter at his wife's innuendo, be it intentional or not, and admitted that he did enjoy it.

Garen and Serana slipped into the docks of Windhelm without being spotted by any of the guards. Garen had made sure that they wouldn't see him, lest they have orders to bring him to Ulfric. Garen was in no mood to deal with the idiot that was the Jarl of Windhelm.

The two found the docks with little trouble. Only one boat was docked now, and Garen saw the name painted on the side. Northern Maiden was the name painted on the side in rough script. From everything he had gathered, it was the only ship that would make trips to Solstheim.

Garen and Serana walked up to the boat and were spotted by a man giving orders to the crew of the boat. They seemed to be loading a trade goods and other such things unto the boat. The man walked over to the two and seemed to be disgruntled at the guild armor they both wore.

"What do you want?" The man snapped at him. "I need to be out before the tide goes."

"We want to book passage to Solstheim." Garen spoke to the man and crossed his arms at the man's brisk tone.

"No." The man snapped. "This isn't a passenger boat."

"I can make it worth your while." Garen spoke calmly, and the man seemed to become less hostile.

"How so?" The man asked, his interest in possible profits peaked.

"I represent a group that needs to expand our influence. Solstheim would be a foot hold for it." Garen spoke calmly, and the man urged him to go on.

"We would be willing to give you part of our profits should you allow us to set up a trade route between Riften and Solstheim."

"How much are we talking here?" The man asked, numbers running through his head.

"Five percent of our profits." Garen replied.

"Fifteen." The man countered.

"Ten." Garen provided his own counter.

"Deal." The man held out his hand and Garen shook it.

"I'm glad we could come to an agreement Captain…" Garen trailed off.

"Gjalund. Gjalund Salt-Sage." the man supplied for him.

"It's a pleasure doing business with you…" The man trailed off.

"Garen. Garen Dragonsbane." He replied and the man's eyes widened.

'You…. You're him." The man stammered and Garen nodded calmly. He could feel Serana smirking at him from behind.

"Where shall we stay while we make the trip?" Garen asked and stepped onto the boat, helping Serana to do so as well.

"F-follow me milord." The man stammered and lead them below decks.

"You know." Garen whispered to Serana. "I still haven't gotten used to this kind of treatment yet."

"You're still just a dumb Nord in my book love." Serana chuckled out.

"Wouldn't have it any other way." He grinned back at her, getting a small laugh in return.

Garen stood at the bow of the Northern Maiden next to his wife. While he was enjoying the salty breeze from the sea, Serana was not faring as well as him.

"How can you stand this." Serana rasped out after dry heaving over the side of the boat.

"I just have a stronger stomach than you is all." He smiled sheepishly at Serana, who glared at him.

"As soon as we dock, I am going to beat you." Serana glared at him before heaving over the side again.

"Promises." Garen smirked at her and rubbed her back soothingly. Though the gesture wasn't much, it seemed to help her some.

Garen spotted the coastline of Solstheim in the heard Gjalund walking up behind them.

"Only about an hour before we land milord." The captain spoke to him.

"Thank you captain. And I told you, just call me Garen." He gave the man an even look over his shoulder.

"Aye sir." The captain spoke before moving to rejoin his crew.

"That is an hour more than I want to spend on this cursed boat." Serana groaned out and Garen took her hand in his.

"It will only be a while longer. The first trip is always the hardest. When we come back, it'll be easier." Garen smiled to his wife and she weakly smiled back.

Garen helped Serana out off of the boat once they had docked. It seemed that she quickly regained her footing and her look of wozziness faded. Around them, the crew of the Northern Maiden, began unloading their cargo. Captain Gjalund began talking adamantly with the dock master, but Garen paid the two no mind.

He and Serana walked down the docks and towards the small town they had docked at, Raven Rock if he remembered correctly.

"You there." A Dunmer called out to them. Garen and Serana stopped and the elf walked up to them.

"I don't recognize either of you." The elf glared at them. "State your business."

"We're here on business with Mallory." Garen replied evenly.

"Glover? What could you possibly want with our smith?" The elf asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Like I said, business. I doubt that his brother wouldn't help the man out in a time of hardship." Garen shrugged.

Before they had left Skyrim, Garen had talked with the guild in order to get a valid reason for passage to the island. They had decided to set up trading between the guild and Delvin's brother Glover Mallory. Glover was a smith in Raven Rock and, as Delvin recalled, made some of the best weapons around. Glover was also a rather well connected man on the island, if anyone could point him in the right direction, it was Glover.

"Hmp." The elf grunted. "I suppose not. Just remember you're in Raven Rock, sovereign territory of House Redoran. This is Morrowind, not Skyrim. You will follow our laws while you are here."

"Yes sir." Garen nodded and the elf left them.

"Best find Mallory." Garen smiled to his wife and she nodded with a smile of her own.

They walked into the small town and began looking for the Redguard man.