"Why must their always be incest inside of temples? It really makes me a little sick," began Sofia. We were riding the wagon towards the bridge which crossed the White River just before the great city of Windhelm. Evening was threatening, but so also was a blizzard as the clouds were persistently low and looking packed.
"Incest?" I replied.
"Yeah," she answered.
"INcest?" I elaborated. "Sofi, what it this about incest in temples?"
"What? Did I say incest?"
"Yes, you said incest," I replied.
"I meant incense," she answered. "The smell really gets up my nose."
The back lid flipped open and I heard the sliding of the net panel and Serana stuck her head out.
"Good Evening!" she chirped. She leaned in and give Sofi a kiss on the neck. "I had such a wonderful sleep today so where are we now?"
"Coming up on Windhelm," I said.
"I've never been to Windhelm," said Serana.
"Neither have we," I answered. "We've driven by it once before but this is the first time we're actually riding into the city."
"All this time wandering around and there's still new stuff to see," mused Sofia. "Wonder how many taverns and inns are here and what sort of mead is sold?"
"How is it that after all your adventures you two never got to Windhelm?" Asked Serana. "Since I joined you we've been to Solitude, Whiterun, Riften, Winterhold . . ."
"We've not been to Dawnstar either," I replied. "And we have been to Falkreath but you were not there for that one."
"Oh I remember that one," answered Serana. "You told me about that shrine you and Sofia had to go to when we were in Castle Dawnguard."
"Stupid dog," grumbled Sofia. "You had to talk to him didn't you?" she hotly accused me.
"Did you have a problem with luring a dog in with a piece of meat for the blacksmith? I don't think so! An easy 25 septims YOU said. Bottles of Black Briar for the evening's meal. The only thing you found wrong with it was that we were not likely to kill something," I countered.
"How was I to know it was the dog of a Daedric Prince!"
"How was I to know either?"
"You're the Dragonborn!"
"That doesn't make me all knowing!"
"Then what good is it then?"
They say familiarity breeds contempt. It also breeds children but that's for another time. Suffice to say Sofia had gotten very used to the fact that I was the Dragonborn and accordingly didn't so much see the hero that was going to save Skyrim as she saw Valentine her husband who could be sarcastic when she said things she thought were precise, profound, and right spot on. While moments like this could be annoying, it was really nice to be able to wake up, take her in my arms, and snuggle up to her and hear her say something not along the lines of "How can you love me, I'm not worthy." While the lines "Scratch my back" and "I've got a headache so make your hangover remedy" and "Valentine your breath smells rancid get away from me" were not the most romantic lines ever uttered by a woman you have just taken into your arms first thing in the morning when you are both in a soft comfortable bed, when it came to Sofia, you were grateful for what you got.
"Nice to know some things just don't ever change," mused Serana. "So how easy is it going to be to see this Jarl . . ."
"Oofrick Raincoat?" suggested Sofia.
"Ulfric," I replied. "Ulfric Stormcloak."
"I prefer my rendition," insisted Sofia.
"We'll shortly find out I'm thinking," I said as the wagon reached the bridge.
We reached the city and rode the wagon into the gates where we pulled it to a stop on the side. There were two nords telling a female dark elf that she stank, stole, wouldn't help the Stormcloaks, and was probably an Imperial spy to boot.
"With people like you in this town helping the Stormcloaks," shouted Sofia. "I'd be an Imperial Spy too."
"Yes, let's just draw attention to ourselves in a really big way," muttered Serana. "Let all the soldiers know we are here and encourage them to watch us at every juncture. Maybe I should just turn into a big ugly bat, run around shrieking evil cackles, bite the little children, and really stir the pot."
"Get over it," snapped Sofia to Serana.
"We won't be here very long," I suggested before the hair pulling commenced.
A thin beggar woman gave us directions to the Palace of the Kings, Ulfric's residence, informing us that it was down the street from Candlehearth Hall, the inn we were standing besides. I proceeded down the street towards it. We walked in while Ulfric was having an argument with what I suspected was his chief general, a man by the name of Galmar. The room was quite impressive, more so than Elisif's courtroom in Solitude, but not as brightly lit and warm as Jarl Balgruuf's hall. Elisif's palace was way more attractive in an aesthetic sort of fashion. Ulfric's court room was more . . . well MANLY if you take my drift. In the center of this great long room was a great long table piled high with dishes and bowls and mugs and pitchers. It was conspicuously absent food and drink, which I presumed was much to Sofia's annoyance given the faces she was making as she looked at it.
"The Empire's putting a great deal of pressure on Whiterun," was what he was saying as we walked in.
"And what would you have me do?" queried Ulfric.
"If he's not with us, he's against us," argued Galmar.
"He knows that. They all know that," mused Ulfric.
"How long are you going to wait?" demanded Galmar. He was clearly the impatient sort.
"You think I need to send Balgruuf a stronger message?" replied Ulfric in that quite tone of his.
"If by message, you mean shoving a sword through his gullet."
"I like this guy," mused Sofia quietly.
"Taking his city and leaving him in disgrace would make a more powerful statement, don't you think?"
"So we're ready to start this war in earnest then?" asked Galmar.
"Soon," replied Ulfric.
"I still say you should take them all out like you did dead king Torygg," suggested Galmar.
"Torygg was merely a message to the other Jarls. Whoever we replace them with will need the support of our armies."
"We're ready when you are."
"Things hinge on Whiterun. If we can take the city without bloodshed, all the better. But if not . . ."
"The people are behind you." insisted Galmar.
"Many I fear, still need convincing." mused Ulfric.
"Then let them die with their false kings," snapped Galmar.
"Yeah, I really like this guy," sighed Sofia. "All action, no talk."
"You're married," observed Serana.
"We've been soldiers a long time," said Ulfric to Galmar. "We know the price of freedom. The people are still weighing things in their hearts."
"So? I'm not talking about sleeping with him," retorted Sofia back to Serana. "I'm talking about killing things with him."
"What's left of Skyrim to wager?" queried Galmar with firm resolve.
"Is that all you care about Sofi?" asked Serana. "Killing things, making love, drinking mead?"
"They have families to think of," answered Ulfric.
"No Seri, I like doing other things . . ." replied Sofia.
"How many of their sons and daughters follow your banner?" asked Galmar. "We are their families!"
"Such as . . ." queried Serana to Sofia. Sofia seemed to think for a moment.
"Well put friend," said Ulfric. "Tell me, Galmar, why do you fight for me?"
"I'd follow you into the depths of Oblivion," proclaimed Galmar. "You know that."
"Yes," replied Ulfric looking intently at Galmar. "But why do you fight? If not for me, then what?
"Drinking mead," suggested Sofia looking at Serana.
"I'll die before elves dictate the fates of men," cried Galmar. "Are we not one in this?"
"I mentioned that already," observed Serana to Sofia. She crossed her arms and looked at Sofia who commenced to think about it again.
"I fight for men I've held in my arms, dying on foreign soil," began Ulfric. His voice began to rise as each reason was stated. Each one stronger and with more purpose. I saw for myself why so many men were willing to follow him into the very maw of battle. "I fight for their wives and children, who's names I heard whispered in their last breaths."
"Well there's making love," suggested Sofia.
"I fight for we few who came home," continued Ulfric. "Only to find our country filled with strangers wearing familiar faces."
"I mentioned that too," observed Serana.
"I fight for my people impoverished to pay the debts of an Empire too weak to rule them, yet brands them criminals for wanting to rule themselves!"
"And then we go out and kill things, I like that," replied Sofia.
"I fight so that all of the fighting I've already done hasn't been for nothing. I fight . . . because I must," finished Ulfric.
"Never mind," finished Serana with a world weary sigh.
"Your words give voice to what we all feel, Ulfric," concluded Galmar. "And that's why you will be High King. But the day words are enough, will be the day when soldiers like us are no longer needed."
"I would gladly retired from the world were such a day to dawn," sighed Ulfric.
"Aye, but in the meantime we have a war to plan."
I walked up with Sofia and Serana behind me and ended about twenty paces from Ulfric. He noticed me.
"Ah," he said. "I remember you, the Imperial who swore the oath just before the headman was going to chop your head off."
I bowed my head. "I am pleased that your memory is so sharp," I replied.
"Rumor says you are also Dragonborn, that it was you who liberated Fort Kastiv from Necromancer Elves for my soldiers." continued Ulfric. "Did the Greybeards mention that I studied under them in my youth? Before the war changed everything?"
"The rumors are for once, true." I replied. "And no, I did not know you had studied under the Greybeards, but it makes sense given how you shouted High King Torygg into bits."
"I presume then, Dragonborn," he continued. "That you are here to deepen the fulfillment of your oath and join us in battle?"
"I am here in part because of the oath," I answered. "But I've been fulfilling it constantly since I made it. I have given the Empire no succor. And when pressed, I have refused. And likewise, it is good that I made the oath, for in my fight to free all of Tamriel from Alduin, I came across something in the Thalmor Embassy which I think you will be glad fell into the hands of the Stormcloaks and not the Empire."
Ulfric did his best to maintain his poker face, but I could see a nervous darting of eyes. And then with a serious composure upon my features, I pulled out a note book which had been secured from the hands of what I presumed had been Elenwen's chief interrogator before we had met. After we had met, he no longer was her interrogator due to a sudden case of fire and steel poisoning. I handed it to Ulfric and he began to examine it. As he read, he inhaled suddenly and then there was a look of anger that crossed his face. I suspected he had just read the part where it was revealed that the Imperial City had fallen prior to his cracking under the stresses of Thalmor interrogation and he had been played by them. He read some more then looked up at me.
"We need to talk about this privately," he suggested. "Something tells me this isn't the only reason you are here."
"Indeed," I replied. "I came for other reasons as well. Suffice to say, without your aid and all of the Stormcloaks, my struggle against Alduin stands a chance of being thwarted and if that happens, the world ends rather slowly and fearfully."
He looked at Sofia and Serana.
"This is Sofia my wife, companion, and fellow adventurer," I replied. "And beside her is Serana Volkihar, dear friend of the two of us. They you can trust with your life, and what's more, may Stendar have mercy on any would be assassin who shows up to kill you while we are closeted with you."
"Three Dark Brotherhood's so far," bragged Sofia.
Ulfric signaled Jorleif to summon servants for food and drink and we retired to a small room where we talked far into the night. As you might imagine it wasn't just about talking him into heading to a Peace Conference with the Greybeards. I had a plan and he was an integral part of it. We were put up in the palace for the night and the next day, with Ulfric beginning to prepare for the return to High Hrothgar for the Peace Conference, we left and drove the wagon towards Solitude.
With a clatter of horse hooves and the rattle of metal rimmed wheels, we crossed the bridge and turned to the right heading north towards Dawnstar. Serana stayed out long enough to see us out of the town and then slipped into the wagon and made for her coffin for what I presumed was a nice day's sleep. I had some pretty standard mead I was able to pass over to Sofia and she leaned back and sipped upon it was we rode through the snowy landscape along side the Yorgrim River. We chatted of this and that for a bit and then we got silent. Then she brightened up.
"I have a song I composed," she said. "I was thinking of it when we first got together but now it makes much more sense."
"Let's hear it," I replied.
Sofia took a swig of mead. Cleared her throat. Took another swig. Did an experimental hum. And then took yet another swig of mead. Then she began to sing . . .
At the College of Winterhold there was a mage,
Who got sent away after causing a rage,
She demonstrated her spell but to no avail,
It lead the brave woman to the stables on a hay bale.
Then came a warrior who disturbed her rest,
But accepted her presence for the upcoming quests,
They traveled together and met friend and foe,
And word spread around about the legendary duo.
They killed dragons and bandits, forsworn, even bears,
Traveled through Skyrim and walked Hrothgar's stairs,
And all of this started with a silly funny spell,
But led to adventures soon everyone will tell.
She paused and looked at me. "Well?" she said. "Is it masterpiece or just great?"
"Your voice is beautiful. Your lyrics are funny but clumsy," I replied.
"It's good!" she retorted. "It's not clumsy."
"Okay," I replied. "Now who's been walking all over Skyrim and Cyrodiil collecting music for the past two years?"
"Yeah so?"
"Here Sofi, the first verse, how many syllables?"
"Huh? What's that got to do with anything?"
"If you want all three verses to flow smoothly, they all have to have the same rhythm," I replied. "And in the first verse you have a stanza of 12 syllables, followed by a stanza of 11 syllables, followed by a stanza of 12 again, but then you have a stanza of 14."
"Who gives a damn?" she snapped.
"I do," I replied.
"Besides you?" she challenged.
"Just follow me for a moment," I replied.
"I don't want to follow you I want you to follow me!"
"I'm the one trying to make the point. There's nothing wrong with your first verse as it stands. If you would let me finish this you would have heard that already."
"I know that tone. You're going to try to 'cut me down' to size again. It's what you do all the time."
"Do you want to learn about music or not? Do you want to be just the girl who sings with the voice of a Goddess or do you want to compose like a master as well?"
She opened her mouth to make a retort to that but now her curiosity was piqued. After all, she wanted to hear compliments about herself and by being told that her voice was that of a Goddess (and believe me I think it was) she was stroked in the right fashion to listen.
"Okay," I continued, now that we had finished the preliminary confrontation. "The second verse starts with a stanza of 11 syllables, followed by a stanza of 13, followed by 11, and ending with 14. Okay, so you see the problem?"
"No," she replied.
"If you are going to have a song which is 12/11/12/14, then you need the second verse to also follow 12/11/12/14, or if you are going to have a 11/13/11/14, you have to return the song to 12/11/12/14 in the third verse and then introduce a fourth verse which is 11/13/11/14 or it . . . stumbles. But you only have three verses and the third verse has a 12/10/12/12. In short, it sings like you couldn't make up your mind how to flow it."
"Well I'd like to see you do it better!" she snapped.
"Game on my drop dead gorgeous goddess wife whom I love with every ounce of my being," I replied.
"Damn it, I was hoping you wouldn't say that," she sighed. "In spite of the fact that you really heaped up the good stuff on it."
When in doubt, compliment her beyond her wildest dreams and you'll get away with so much afterwards . . . I proceeded to sing it leaving her first verse untouched.
"At the College of Winterhold there was a mage,
Who got sent away after causing a rage,
She demonstrated her spell but to no avail,
It lead the brave woman to the stables on a hay bale.
Then a Bard of adventure tripped over her rest.
And asked for her presence upon a grand quest,
They traveled together and fought many a foe,
And word spread around about the legendary duo.
They killed dragons and bandits, forsworn, even bears,
Traveled through Skyrim and up Hrothgar's long stairs,
And all of this started when she cast a new spell,
But led to adventures that the people so love to tell."
She sighed after counting out the syllables.
"Sofi Sofi Sofi, you simply can't be perfect at everything," I suggested.
"Why not?"
"Because what would there be left for me?"
"That's not my problem," she retorted.
"It would be once you found out how dull everyone was who was less capable than you at everything," I suggested.
"No way," she shot back. "If I were perfect then everyone would worship me and I'd be happy."
"You're sure about that?"
She looked at me. "Just what are you suggesting?" she said.
"Okay lets start with the fact that you are beautiful and that beauty is perfect. Are women worshiping you?"
"No!"
"Why not?"
"They're jealous," she concluded.
"So if you were more perfect what would the people's response be?"
"I hate it when you use logic," she grumbled.
"Sofi?"
"Yeah?"
"Have another bottle of mead."
"Okay but only because you told me to."
"Really?"
"No, but it's a good enough excuse."
She drank her second bottle while I rolled the wagon down the road. Throughout the day we traveled through snowy terrain. Part of it was due to the fact that it was winter. But likewise these were the winter lands. Eventually she settled next to me and we rode in silence for a while.
"Valentine?"
"Yes?"
"Why do you love me?"
I was ready for a really snarky snappy retort, something along the lines of "You tell me why all the time." But something in her tone suggested that she was suffering from self-doubts. There was still a very frightened little girl down in some corner of her mind and she occasionally let that little girl peak cautiously out of the windows of her eyes.
"You're not just beautiful," I said quietly "If I loved you just because you were beautiful I would sooner or later get tired of your looks and move on to another girl. But it did help, especially when I first laid eyes upon you and wanted you to be mine so badly it ached at times. But really Sofi? I love you because you have never given me a reason to think you were going to leave me. I love you because you stick with me through thick and thin. I love you because . . . well girl . . . when it comes down to it . . . I know you'll be in our bed when I wake up tomorrow."
"But you've told me this before," she observed.
"Yes, but there's a new reason, one I didn't think of before," I continued. "I love you because I promised to when we got married."
"Valentine? I don't remember my marriage to you because we were too drunk from Sanquine's brew. You don't remember the marriage either. So how do you know you made that promise?"
"If I didn't make that promise Sofia, then we're not married."
"So you just believe you made that promise?"
"Really Sofi, even if I didn't, it was something I should have promised because that's the only thing that keeps the marriage happy, that decision that you will love them each day regardless of what they do. So whether or not I actually did it at the ceremony that neither of us remember, thanks to Sanquine, I'm keeping it now and it's one of the reasons why I love you."
"It's funny Valentine," she mused.
"How so?"
"I love you for the same reasons. I know when I wake up, you'll be there."
I gave her a one armed hug, the sort that I gave her back when we would walk to our next adventure spot.
"There's only one thing that's messing up my perfect happiness," she observed.
"What's that?"
"It's too cold to make love to you."
"No it's not," I said pulling the horses in to a stop.
"What? It's so cold out here . . ."
I opened up the hatch and slid back the netted panel. And gave her an 'after you' motion. She bit the bottom of her lip as she grinned and scooted in. I followed. Serana, being dead in her coffin, had no clue what happened mid-afternoon just three feet above her to her left.
We pulled into Morthal after sunset. Serana drove the last few miles since her night vision was superior to ours and while she drove the wagon and chatted with me, Sofia got the stove burning and cooked up some beef and potato stew and she handed me a steaming bowl of it through the latch while I sat next to Serana. Then we chatted while I ate and she stayed with her head almost through the latch. Once the wagon was settled in, Serana went for a walk in the woods while Sofia and I turned in and slept.
The next morning we proceeded down the road towards Solitude. But unlike the day before, Serana stayed awake for a bit longer. We were all seated up with Sofia in the middle. There was some silence for a while, then small talk and then Serana had a question.
"Val? Sofi? Can I trust you?"
"You've been with us for how many weeks now and you're still alive and you ask us that?" I replied.
"I mean, what if I told you I had a talk last night and . . ."
"You found a vampire in Morthal right?"
Serana sighed.
"Speak freely," I said. "Sofi and I won't hunt them down, kill them, or report their position to the Dawnguard. Fair?"
"How did you guess?" was her first question. "I mean given the hints you've dropped over the weeks about cures, and given how the mage in Morthal knows how to cure Vampirism, how is it you guessed that I talked with another vampire and not him?"
"The way you said it," I replied. "It's the first time I think I've been able to see through your usual calm and placid demeanor which hides what it is you really are doing and thinking."
"Valentine I'm torn. She tried to recruit me for their plan for the town. There's a whole coven of vampires of which she was one of the first recruits. Maybe six or seven. I don't know who the leader is but the plan is to secure themselves in the town and enthrall all the authorities so that they can pretty much feed on the town with impunity."
"Pretty standard plot for a coven of vampires," I suggested. "Domination by one, mutual cooperation for security reasons as well as a plan to secure sufficient food."
"I don't like it," continued Serana. "It was such a naked power grab that I couldn't help but think they would overreach and expose themselves. And likewise, there are children in that town, also some of those people I'm sure are nice people and shouldn't be targets. But this vampire, Alva, did not seem to be concerned. She is already enthralling the husband of another woman and is setting up that woman's demise. It's just so callous and cruel . . ."
I waited patiently.
". . . No wonder there's a Dawnguard," sighed Serana. "If vampires . . ." She was silent again. "Val . . . Sofi? Do you think I'm evil?"
"Pruzah, good, do you remember that word?" I asked.
"Yes," said Serana.
"Kind of hard to forget what a big dragon says to you when he's looking into your eyes," suggested Sofia.
"But what is good!" exclaimed Serana. "Do we instinctively know what it is? If we do then why . . ."
"No, Seri, we don't know it instinctively," I replied. "If we knew it instinctively we would not need to teach our children right from wrong."
"But at the same time . . ."
"Yes, people tend to take a lot of it for granted, but that is only because it's such common sense," I continued. "Just about anyone can think out nearly all of it for their day to day actions easily enough, and when you start working with your kids and get to be on the receiving end of the evil that children do, it strikes you that you don't like the fact that they lied to you, said that they hated you, punched their little brother, and so on. So yeah, we can figure it out for the most part easily enough by just being honest with ourselves."
"But what IS good?" she asked.
"The definition of good is this," I replied. "If an action you do to another, you would be pleased to receive from another, that is the good. If an action you do to another, you would hate receiving from another, that is the evil."
"So you think I am evil then," she snapped. "You would not like to be bitten and drained of your blood, who would for that matter, so that makes me evil doesn't it!"
"There are degrees of good Serana," I replied. "And degrees of evil."
"You're trying to back out aren't you," she suggested. Serana still had that adolescent quality of seeing things in exclusive black and white. Not that this was entirely wrong, but it did lead you to make some interesting conclusions about what the wagon driver was saying.
"No Serana, I'm not trying to back out. Because there is more to it than just that. Yes, the fact that you have to gain your nourishment from the blood of other living humans, that is an evil action. The fact that you were somewhat forced into the situation mitigates it to some extent. You were seventeen when you were offered to Molog Bal. It was your father and mother that led you into the worship. You didn't question then because you naturally trusted them to do what was right for you as they had apparently done all your life. You didn't exactly have full knowledge or consent as to what being offered to Molag Bal really meant. Likewise the fact that you try to find ways to avoid having to do that, case in point by trying to only feed from the criminal classes again mitigates the evil of the action. That's why Isran noted you were a good woman once."
"But I'm evil now," she snapped.
"Isran has a serious handicap," I said. "He took a mace to the part of his skull right over the tact lob and lost it. The fact is, there is good in you. You exist, that is good. You are pleasing to look upon, that is good. You show respect and loyalty to your friends, that is good. The fact that you actually try to control your impulses is a very big plus in your favor. You take suggestions for self improvement. That is Very good." I turned to her. "In fact," I continued. "You are just about like every other person in this world, a mix of good and bad. And the thing that makes you less bad than most bad people is the simple fact that you are, like Parthurnaax, trying to overcome the evil in your nature. And you know Seri? We all have a monster in us. Your's just happens to be a bit bigger and nastier than mine and I wouldn't want your monster for the world. But that doesn't change the fact that I too have a monster and if I don't keep him on a leash . . . well . . you would be a pile of dust and Sofi would be alone and living in a cave."
Serana was quiet for a moment.
"If what I hear from you is correct, we all have evil in us, vampire or human."
I nodded.
"Then why would vampires be 'more evil' than humans? You seem to take that as a granted given what you've said so far?"
"Degree," I replied. "In order to live, you have to engage in an evil action. I don't. I don't have to do evil in order to live. That is the poison of Molag Bal. The fact that you have to do it."
"But I get to live forever, is that bad?" She phrased it as a rhetorical question and it was a very valid point on the surface. After all, death is not regarded as a good thing. But I already had the answer.
"Depends," I replied. "What if we were made to die and then be in communion with the Gods forever. What if the whole point of death is to transition to a higher spiritual state and what if, in order for us to make that transition, we have to die. The fact that you will never 'get old and die' is good, but what if that good is being used to overshadow a greater good, that is face to face converse with the very Gods themselves in Aetherius? Then the lesser good becomes an evil. An argument can be made that the whole point of Molag Bal's creation of the vampire was to stick it to Arkay, the God who oversees our death and transition. Each vampire in essence is a deliberate affront to Arkay. And what's more, Molog Bal knows eternity is a long time and sooner or later Seri, the odds are going to catch up with you and you'll find yourself dead and your soul will be in Coldharbor, forever under the dominion of Molog Bal."
"That if I end up dead, I will be in Coldharbor," sighed Serana. "We all know that's a risk. But this talk of transition into Aetherius? That's just idle speculation Val, there's no proof."
"If there's no proof that we will meet the Gods face to face Serana, then there's no proof that we won't either. We simply are in the unknown. To say that it's all speculation isn't entirely true either. There is evidence that the Gods have planned something. You have no problem with the concept of being stuck in Coldharbor for eternity. You think the Gods are just going to leave us all to a rotten fate? Why would we worship them at all then?"
"It is said that the Gods gain strength through worship. That it feeds them," answered Serana.
"That," I replied. "Is conjecture as well. A more simple explanation can be that the Gods require a certain amount of mortal participation before they feel that we deserve intervention. After all, if the Gods desire that we ascend to converse with them, is this world not then a training ground for such futures? Would it not be in the God's best interests to encourage us to engage in public worship in an effort to get us to connect with them? The facts remain, the more enthusiastic the crowd who worships, the more responsive the Gods tend to be unless of course there is a request to do something simply awful. Then of course, you go to the Daedra for we all know the Gods don't cooperate there even if there's a mob of worshipers asking."
Serana was quiet for a moment.
"So it's degree," she said. "And that is why you and Sofi like me, even though I have not always been 'good' to you. And it's why Alva's plot to take over Morthal and turn it into a vampire ranch bothers me, even though from my perspective it does achieve security and nourishment for those like me."
"Precisely," I concluded. "You have discovered that 'your food' happens to have a lot in common with you, and not in the way that the rancher discovers that he has things in common with his pigs, cows, sheep, and goats, or the hunter discovers the similarities between himself and the deer, rabbit, and pheasant."
"But there are similarities," replied Serana.
"Yes, we all have red blood, we all are warm blooded, but some of us can tell the difference between good and evil and choose between the two. A wolf does not question the ethics of attacking, killing, and eating a small furry rabbit. He does not sit there in agony over the fact that he is big and strong and can take what he wants from the rabbit and that rabbit has no legal recourse or appeal to a higher sense of justice. The wolf merely sees the rabbit, notes he is hungry, chases the rabbit, and if he catches that rabbit, he eats it. End of story. You on the other hand, had an emotional crises when that Necromancer started to cry as you were draining her. Her humanity struck you in a fashion that the deer we harvested to make blood potions did not."
"Why is it, Val," she continued somewhat annoyed if I was reading the tone of her voice correctly. "That when ever something bugs me, and I come to you to talk about it because you are one of the few people I have to talk about these things with, you end up bugging me more?"
"Because you are a girl conflicted Seri," I replied. "Every where you turn, you see good and bad entwined and you can't untangle it without a great deal of personal sacrifice and risk."
"Why is it that I keep thinking you're hinting that I ought to be cured of my Vampirism?" she snapped.
"Maybe," I said. "It's not me, but a little voice in your head that sounds like me that's doing it. When was the last time I suggested you get cured Serana?"
"That's beside the point. It's clear enough that's what you want me to do," she retorted.
"And would it bug you if I also wanted you to dye your hair red?" I queried.
"What?"
"Seriously, would that bother you?"
"I'd wonder why, especially since you're a married man."
"Yeah!" cried Sofia who had just grasped what I had just said. When Serana and I got into these deeper conversations, she often liked to just zone out.
"But would it bother you? Really?"
"Bothers me!" suggested Sofia.
"I like my hair color!"
"Yes, but will you be mad at me for the next few days because I suggested it?"
"I'm mad," suggested Sofia.
"Yes I will, because this is all just a sham to hide behind the fact that you want me to stop being a vampire!"
"My point was that not everything I want annoys you as much as that."
"Wait! What's going on here?" demanded Sofia who was now paying closer attention to the conversation and was, somewhat understandably, confused because it kept going in directions she didn't think it should go but seem to naturally flow there anyway."
"Val," huffed Serana. "Is once again trying to talk me into being cured." She made quotation marks and her voice took on a high sneering nasal tone when she said the word.
"Oh? Is that all?"
"Is That All!" cried Serana looking at Sofia. "It's only my entire identity we're talking about here."
"Seri? Have you ever had to make a choice between the man who cares about you and your best friend who is trying to kill him?"
"What has this to do . . ."
"You went Feral on us after Alduin, and you attacked Valentine, MY Valentine. I was behind you holding you back by your braids and my arms were aching because I was getting tired. And I realized that I was going to have to kill my best friend because she was going to kill MY Valentine! I had nightmares about it all night afterwards. If it hadn't been for Parthurnaax, you would be a spot of dust on the snow at the top of the throat of the world and Molag Bal would be mocking your soul right now in Coldharbor! And I'd be hating myself because I had to choose between you and him and . . . I don't want to make choices like that!"
"That wasn't my fault!"
"No it wasn't but you still would have been dead!" Sofia shouted. "And ruined my day."
Serana just slumped back into the bench and Sofia joined in. I looked at the two of them, glowering and looking straight ahead. I sighed and shook my head and the wagon moved on. Eventually I managed to crack a joke that made the two of them giggle and things smoothed out. Eventually, Serana began to complain about the sun and she crawled back into the wagon. Things were quiet again for a bit. I pulled out a bottle of mead and gave it to Sofia. She began to take little drinks from it and leaned against me.
"My mead daddy," she laughed. "I trained you well."
"Of course," I replied with a grin. "I did it originally because I was afraid if I didn't, you would run off to find another guy."
"Yeah," she said after another sip. "The thing is Valentine, you were the first guy who was actually working on keeping me in mead when we were not at a tavern. I kept thinking, 'He's rich.'"
"But I wasn't," I replied.
"No, but you were acting like you were," she replied. "And you were raised in a rich family. A girl notices things like that. Now that I think on it and remember? I guess that at some level I knew you really did love me. Though I didn't really believe it enough until I told you I was . . . pregnant and you smiled at me. And then I knew you were going to be there forever." She paused. "I wanted you so bad and we had to kill all those Thalmor first. First time I was annoyed that I had to kill something. Last time too."
"So that was the nightmare you were having that you insisted you had forgotten," I suggested.
"What? Well? That's because . . . Okay . . . FINE! I shouldn't have lied to you but I didn't want to talk about it then." She paused for another second. And then as if it were being dragged out of her with a pair of rusty pliers. "I thought you would laugh at me for having it."
"Then you just needed to say so, Sofi," I said. "Just say, 'I'm not ready to talk about it with you.' or say 'Promise me you won't laugh.' and then the onus is on me. And if I do laugh, you'll have something to rub my nose in when necessary."
"Yeah!" she said, her eyes lighting up. She sat back and had a cheeky little grin on her face as she played around with the mead bottle's opening in her mouth. Normally when a girl does that, there is always frequently if not invariably a suggestion that the playing around is really sexual in overtones and there's been a few plays on the stage where the actress does all sorts of suggestive behaviors associated with it. But Sofia actually was rather innocently just sucking on the bottle between little swigs. Of course after a few more moments of this swig, lick, suck, rub with lips sort of behavior I made the observation that she was aiming a bit high with the bottle top and she took a second and then called me a pervert, whereupon I pointed out that she got it which only proved she was just as perverted and we proceeded to tease each other mercilessly for a few more moments seeing who was the most depraved of the two. Then we laughed and settled down and later in the evening rode into Solitude.
The next morning it was off to General Tullius and he immediately insisted that I 'explain' a letter he had gotten from my mother about me, typical stuff really, she was trying to put into Tullius head the idea that I would make an ideal replacement for Titus as Emperor and she was being her typical cagey self. She had been so subtle that his soldier's mind had failed to catch the meanings. So naturally I explained it in such a manner that suggested that he would make an ideal candidate for picking the next Emperor, even if that should be himself. Naturally that made him well disposed to things and so once I explained the peace conference and Ulfric's attendance there, coupled with the fact that the dragons were busy attacking Imperial columns and patrols, he was willing to participate along with Legate Rikke. Of course that wasn't the only thing we talked about. In fact, we were busy making plans the entire day.
Meanwhile Jordis caught Sofia and Serana up to speed with the news in Solitude and they spend the day shopping for supplies and then dropped by the Blue Palace and invited Jarl Elisif over for a light supper that evening. Sybille was more than happy to suggest that it be so since she liked spending time with Serana. Falk tried to suggest that Elisif had been busy all day but armed with Sybille, Jarl Elisif handily deflected his attacks and he went down in flames and blood. So when I got back from my long discussion and planning session with General Tullius, there were four women at the dining table, drinking mead and blood potions and talking about the latest bardic festival which was coming up later in the month. I gave Sofia a kiss on the forehead and retired to bed exhausted and knowing that the next day we would be up and packing for the next trip, a cave somewhere on the borders where Auril's Bow was supposed to be hidden.
I'm not sure when the four girls finished their little get together but I knew when Sofia came to bed because she was rather tipsy and determined to have her way with me. I have this rule I have always followed in my life. When a beautiful woman crawls into bed with you and insists that you have to make love to them, you grant them their request. I know it's hard at times, and I know there are moments when you would rather sleep, and I know that it can be brutal and grueling, but it's something that a man just has to do regardless of the pain and suffering involved. And yes, when they cry your name out as they climax, it can wake you up and make it hard for you to get back to sleep.
But as one great author once said, an adventure is an inconvenience rightly considered.