Teldryn Sero's fourth day as a vampire began rather uneventfully. He rose as the sun set, thankfully not too late in the evening in the month of Frostfall, and collected the red bottle left outside his door. Serana's door, Teldryn corrected himself. It was Serana's room he was staying in, and he had to remember that to keep the light of urgency burning in his new dark soul. It would be far too easy to become comfortable in Castle Volkihar, with its huge library and empty passageways that seemed almost peaceful in the quiet air of dusk. This is Serana's room, and I am just borrowing it temporarily whilst we construct a boat together. Said construction had been going strangely well given the two builders hadn't had to physically interact with each other so far. Teldryn wasn't sure when she did her part of the work, considering he toiled most of the dark hours of the night, and none of her notes had mentioned when either. He uncurled the latest note with intentional restraint as he sat down at the desk and popped the cork on the bottle of blood. In Teldryn's solitude, he had come to treasure Serana's words almost as much as the crimson liquid she supplied to him every day. If it weren't for this vile creature living inside me, I would take the notes and leave the blasted bottles in the hallway.

Teldryn,

In response to your question; you can be what we are and still be good. In my travels over the last five years I've tried to seek out other benevolent members of our kind.

In Solitude, the court wizard is a Breton mage named Sybille Stentor. She only feeds on guilty prisoners, and otherwise serves the High Queen faithfully.

In Cyrodiil, the Count of Skingrad is a vampire named Janus Hassildor. He chooses isolation from his family and citizens over giving in to his urges. Like Sybille, he only takes blood from the prisoners of his county. Hassildor is a just ruler, and his people love and respect him. During the Oblivion Crisis and the Great War, Skingrad emerged one of the strongest survivors of the conflicts thanks to his leadership.

And I know my recent actions don't exactly make me look like some moral paragon, but I've never fed on an unwilling mortal either. Sometimes, in my worst moments, I have to pay people of low regard to let me take a little of what I need. You can survive this, with my help. You can be a vampire and still be Teldryn Sero. We can be vampires together and still love each other.

Teldryn sighed, and sipped at the cup of blood. He could imagine himself eventually coming to terms with what Serana had done to him. But he could never be comfortable with what he had become. To do that would be a betrayal of himself, Teldryn thought. If I start admitting that I enjoy the taste of blood, that my newly enhanced senses make life more vibrant, that I don't really mind missing the sunlight anymore, then I won't be myself any longer. He would be a true vampire. An un-thing. Though he suspected Serana was right, that he could exist as a bloodsucker and still walk the moral path, part of Teldryn held on to the idea that as long as he resisted, as long as he kept hating himself, part of him would always remain Dunmer.

Or maybe I'm just fooling myself. Teldryn knew if his father saw him now, he would be cut down without a second thought. The Dark Elves of Morrowind abhorred vampirism, and rightfully so. The vampires of their land were ancient and evil creatures, devoid of any trace of humanity. They practiced foul sorcery in old, isolated castles, either serving wicked gods and doing their bidding or concocting plots to serve their own diabolical purposes. When a vampire took you in Morrowind, your body would not show up floating down the river, drained of blood. When a vampire took you in Morrowind, no part of you would ever be seen again.

One of their note discussions had been concerning a cure, naturally. Unsurprisingly, the only man capable of curing vampirism Serana knew of had lived in Morthal. She knew the ritual had required a filled black soul gem, and they had plenty of those from her mother's laboratory, but without a knowledgeable mage the stones were next to useless.

He finished the cup of blood, and took a deep breath. It was at these moments, when he was fully sated, that Teldryn felt almost mortal. Without the vampire inside scraping at the walls of his mind, thirsty and impatient, Teldryn felt free to love and hate and worry once more. He wondered where the Dragonborn was, almost a week after his resurrection. Had Jaxius killed the Brotherhood, saved Runa, and toppled the Thalmor? When the boat was finished, would the two vampires be returning to a Skyrim free of war? Teldryn wasn't quite optimistic enough to believe that. The Dominion had killed Jaxius Amaton once, and that had been at the height of his power. Despite what the spectral assassin had said in the Soul Cairn, he couldn't imagine the Dragonborn would return fully intact. Dying so violently, only to be brought back to the world that killed you, had to be difficult. I should know.

Teldryn made his way through Castle Volkihar and stepped out into the night. He paused for a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the darkness. At this hour even the energetic and annoying sea birds were asleep, so he walked down to the shore in near silence. As he drew closer to the meager excuse of a boat they were constructing, the sound of the ocean filled Teldryn's ears. Good. I'm tired of the quiet. With the waves of high tide crashing on to the shore and the task of construction in front of him, Teldryn felt normal. Just a Dunmer building a boat, that's all I am. He put his hands on his hips and raised an eyebrow at the mess of planks and boards that was supposed to carry them to shore in a few days. The wood was hopelessly rotted. It'll be no small miracle if we last five minutes on the open water. Teldryn pushed his doubts aside and picked up a saw.

For hours Teldryn cut boards, tied ropes, hammered nails, and occasionally swore under his breath. The vampirism had given him new strength, but it took some getting used to. He accidentally split more than one plank and had to toss the useless wood aside. If I keep this up, we won't have enough material to finish the boat. Teldryn forced himself to work slower, and to consider his movements more carefully. In the meticulously cut boards that had greeted him earlier, he recognized Serana's patient handiwork. Teldryn envied her control. She's had a lot more practice at being a bloodsucker then you have, fetcher.

Though vampires evidently didn't sweat, they could still get tired. It just took a lot longer. At the end of the night, Teldryn finally admitted he had reached the limits of his strength. His muscles burned with fatigue, and though that was a welcome change from the vampiric coldness it was still a pain. He staggered back from the half-completed boat, and looked back at Castle Volkihar. Normally, after finishing his work, Teldryn would go back to his room and sleep for hours. Today, I doubt I'd make it to the dining hall. There were still a couple of hours before dawn, and the ocean waves behind him looked awfully inviting. Teldryn stumbled towards the water, the silt of the shore loose and gritty under his bare feet. Even the shallow water was frigid, but his aching leg muscles nearly screamed in relief. When the first wave hit, Teldryn gasped. Damn, that's cold. Though clad in only the thin cloth pants he had awoken in days before, he didn't shiver. One of the books in the library had said vampires can't freeze to death. Being somewhat confident in that knowledge, Teldryn didn't hesitate before diving into the next wave.

For a little while he let the stresses of the world fall away. Teldryn made himself forget about Runa and Jax, knowing there was nothing he could do for them he wasn't already doing. He made himself forget about the horrible day with the Argonian, and the pain of losing an arm. It's all in the past now. No use in opening healing wounds. Teldryn was floating on his back, out of the path of the waves, when he heard hammering on the shore. His heart began to beat faster, and he sunk into the water up to his neck. Serana.

The slender woman was kneeling next to their boat, her arm moving up and down as she worked. The boat was rather close to the castle's bridge, so there would be no avoiding a confrontation when he returned to land. Teldryn watched her thoughtfully, and decided waiting any longer would only make it more awkward. He swam to the shore, the sound of his movement cloaked by her hammering. If I surprise her, I'm likely to end up with a construction tool flying at my face.

"Serana?" He called out from a safe distance away.

She looked up, her eyes wide, and dropped the hammer. "Sorry. I didn't know you were still out here." She made to leave, her shoulders stiff.

Teldryn's heart felt heavy. He blurted out, "Wait."

Serana turned back. "What?" There was a fragility to her tone, and he suspected his next words would mean a lot.

"I'm tired of all of this." Teldryn said. "The notes, the sneaking around so we don't have to see each other."

Her head fell. "Me too. But this is the way it has to be. I did something unforgivably awful to you, and I have to pay for that."

Teldryn agreed, "What you did to me was awful. Awful to do to a friend, and worse to do to someone who loves you. But I get why you did it, and I forgive you."

Serana looked up at him, uncrossing her arms. "You understand?"

He hesitated, and then nodded his head almost imperceptibly. "I know the fear of being alone in this world, more than you know. Every employer I've ever had has left me eventually. I have this nightmare, of standing alone in a graveyard of my friends and patrons."

She took a step towards him, and reached out her hand. Teldryn took it almost desperately, and though he knew her skin was cold, she felt so warm and lovely in his grasp.

"Thank you, Teldryn." Serana said quietly. "I know how hard it must be for you, to become something you once hated so fiercely. I couldn't ask you to forgive me, and I don't deserve it, and I'll understand if you want to part ways once we're off this island."

"No." He squeezed her hand, and pulled her closer. "You're stuck with me now, sera. You have to live with the pale and handsome Dunmer bloodsucker you chose to create. Besides, I've no idea how to get potions of blood on my own."

She laughed, a pleasant sound. He hadn't realized how much he'd come to miss it.

Serana's eyes appraised him, now less burdened with guilt. "Sure, if that's what you want. But I'm going to find you some better clothes. Vampires can't get sick from being cold and wet, but that doesn't mean it's not uncomfortable."

"I once traversed the ash plains of Morrowind in nothing more than tribal rags, dear." Teldryn shifted awkwardly in his soaked trousers. "That said, I certainly won't refuse a change in wardrobe. I'm going back to bed, now, as I'm very tired."

He left Serana to her work on the boat, his heart feeling much lighter than it had at the beginning of the night. When you were one of only two people trapped on a vampire island, it was definitely better if you got along with each other. Though Teldryn sensed it would be a long while yet before he could look at Serana the same way he had before his turning, the warmness between them had at least returned in some measure. His future as a vampire without her looked bleak and lonely, but it was more than self-preservation that made Teldryn want to hold her tightly again. Serana saw him as more than a weary old sellsword, as more than the companion of Jaxius Amaton.

Teldryn collapsed on the bed and was out in a second, his formerly troubled thoughts now more at rest. It was only a couple of hours before he awoke. Waking up was different as a vampire, he had discovered; there was virtually no pull to return to sleep, and he was refreshed immediately upon opening his eyes. Like a dwarven automaton, activated and ready to fight instantly. He wasn't sure if that thought was more pleasing or disturbing.

Now that he and Serana were no longer trying to avoid each other, the bedroom and even the library seemed drab and boring places to spend time. Teldryn explored the seemingly countless corridors of Castle Volkihar, searching for her. At his core, he was a social creature; that's part of why he had given up the sellsword life to join the Dragonborn's family. Days of solitude had made Teldryn depressed and withdrawn. It'll be nice just to have a conversation with someone, even if it's about nothing important. He also had some questions about vampirism they had never discussed in notes before.

After an hour of searching, he finally found her sewing some black robes in a chamber nearby the dining hall. The clothes looked clean enough, by Castle Volkihar standards at least.

"Good afternoon, Lady Serana." He greeted her, closing the door behind him. The room was bare save for a table and a couple of chairs, and a pile of straw in the corner. "Up to some knitting, are we? I'd no idea you were adept at the more feminine trades of the world."

She didn't look up from her needlework. "I've gotta admit, it's tough resizing these robes for someone with such a large and awkwardly shaped head. And Lady Serana? You've been reading some of my father's history books, I'm guessing."

"He's not the best writer," Teldryn replied, taking the seat opposite her. "And he only mentioned you on a couple of pages at the end. A grave disservice, by my reckoning."

"My father was self-absorbed and distant even before he discovered the insane put-out-the-sun prophecy." She stopped sewing, her fingers tightening on the needles. "When I...bit you, I feared I was becoming just like him. It was selfish to bring you back. I was afraid of being alone again, just like my father feared death so much it drove him to insanity."

Teldryn reached across the table and laid his hands over hers. "You're nothing like him. You know how I'm sure of that?"

She bit her lower lip. "How?"

He smiled grimly. "Jax let you live, and even befriended you. You can't imagine my surprise when I first saw you in that clearing outside of Windhelm, claiming to be a friend of the Dragonborn. The Jax Amaton I knew would sooner marry a frost troll than break bread with a child of Molag Bal. Your heart is true, or else it would have been pierced on your first meeting with him."

Serana considered his words. "You're right. That makes me feel a lot better, strangely enough. I hope Jax is okay, wherever he is."

"No one can stand between that man and his daughter." Teldryn replied. "I wouldn't be surprised if the Dark Brotherhood had been wiped from existence by now. Whatever their relationship with Jax was, he'll never forgive them for what they've done."

"I'm not so sure." Serana returned to her sewing, albeit more slowly. "The Daedra wanted the Dragonborn's soul as a prize, but Sithis chose to return Jax to life rather than take him into the Void. Why give up such a powerful soul, unless you were assured of getting many more souls in the future? I don't know much about Dark Brotherhood lore, but I think the situation might be more complex than we realize."

Teldryn leaned back in his chair. "This is all beyond me. When Jax, Runa and I moved into Lakeview Manor, I thought the greatest dangers of my life were in the past. I was ready to settle down, maybe build another house nearby and start my own family. But those bastards burned it all to the ground."

She smiled sadly. "Nothing is stopping us from leaving it all behind, you know. We've already done far more than Jax could ever have expected of us. After we save them from the Brotherhood, we could make for the border and not look back. The Dragonborn has saved Skyrim countless times, he's even died for them for Divines' sake. Hasn't he bled enough? Haven't we?"

He mused. "Morrowind. The Thalmor wouldn't be able to touch us there, at least for now. But elves have long memories, Serana. When we become comfortable in our exile, when we inevitably let our guard down, they will strike from the shadows and destroy us. They weren't expecting me at Lakeview, for whatever reason, and that's why Runa wasn't torn from her bed to be captured or worse. The Thalmor adapt, and they won't make the same mistakes twice."

Serana held out the finished robes. Teldryn rose to his feet and pulled it on, the fabric cool and comforting against his bare skin. He kept the hood tucked into the back, not wanting to look too much like an evil vampire sorcerer. The thin cloth pants that had served as his only clothing for days practically fell apart as he pulled them off.

"Hmm." He murmured. His legs felt strangely free under the bottom half of the robes. "You couldn't have found some new pants somewhere? It would be a tragedy if the greatest swordsman in all of Morrowind died because he tripped over his skirt."

She replied, "Nope. These were the only clothes I could find in the entire castle that weren't either covered in old blood or poorly painted skulls."

Teldryn frowned. "You wear trousers. Your mother wears trousers. Where do you get them from?"

Serana stood up and stretched, working the kinks out of her obviously tired muscles. "I'm not sharing my one pair of pants with you, Teldryn. We just aren't ready for that step of our relationship yet."

He decided to go easy on her. She was probably very tired after working on the boat and sewing the robes. "Very well, my lady. I'll let you get some rest. What do you say to meeting at the end of the day, maybe having a drink?"

"Sure, sounds perfect." Serana walked to the corner of the room covered in straw, and began to settle down.

"Hold on." Teldryn walked over to her. "You haven't been sleeping in this room fit for a farm animal while I've been resting in your bed, have you?"

There was that flash of guilt in her eyes again when she looked up at him. "You're freshly turned. You need the rest and comfort far more than I do. The stress alone can make a new vampire feral if the first couple of days are too overwhelming."

"Well, I feel fine now," Teldryn lied. I can survive like this, at least. "There are no other beds in this entire depressing castle?"

"The rats tore them apart for their nests years ago. My room was only spared because my mother maintained it for my visits. Really, it's fine. We'll be leaving in a couple of days anyway."

"No." Teldryn held his hand out. "It won't be said Teldryn Sero slept in comfort while his beloved picked straw out of her hair. You either come sleep in your bed, or make some room in the pile."

Serana grinned and took his hand. He pulled her to her feet. "You know, you can't really be intimidating while you're wearing a skirt."

The way back to the bedroom went much quicker than it usually did, with Serana there to provide directions. Despite his inner pains, both physical and emotional, Teldryn couldn't deny the comfort and warmth of just holding her hand and walking through Castle Volkihar. She helped lift him up to a place beyond vampires and mortals, a place of simple affection and understanding and love.

Serana raised an eyebrow when they opened the bedroom door. "You're a pretty tidy elf. Everything is pretty much how I left it."

He chuckled. "You can't really afford to be the messy one, living in the same house as Runa Fair-Shield and her father."

"You're telling me the Dragonborn of Nordic legend can't pick up after himself?" Serana sat down at the end of the bed and began to unstrap her boots.

"Jax has a very busy mind. I suppose it can't be helped. Rayya and I didn't mind helping out, in any case." Teldryn stood in the doorway, feeling a bit like an intruder.

"Please close the door, Teldryn." She smiled at him, her eyes dancing. Her boots hit the floor, and then her cloak. "I don't want any vermin sneaking in here while we sleep."

Nerevar, guide me. He shut the door and slid the padlock into place. When he turned, Serana was standing by her dresser and pulling off her light armor. Teldryn tried not to let his eyes stray, and chose to sit down at the desk and pull out a book. A very safe option, reading. No one has ever made any life-altering choices whilst thumbing through the pages of the Catalogue of Armor Enchantments.

"Aren't you tired?" Serana asked. He turned his head. She was lying in bed under the covers, wearing only a thin cotton shift judging by her shoulders. "I know you only slept an hour or two this morning. If we work hard together on the boat tonight, we might have it ready tomorrow. But not if one of us collapses from exhaustion halfway through."

She was right, of course. I'm being irrational. Two people that are very attracted to each other and rather enjoy each others company can share a bed without anything untoward occurring. I've slumbered with female patrons many a time.

"Of course," he replied. "Some rest will do us both good."

Teldryn set his book aside and slid on to the bed, maintaining a respectful distance from Serana's side. Reclining on the pillow, he closed his eyes. Can I feel her watching me, or is it just my imagination?

"Honestly, Teldryn Sero." Serana chided. "Are you a Dunmer of Morrowind, or a shy farmboy? I know it's chilly in this castle. I did grow up here, you know. Get under the covers."

"Fine. It's your bed, my lady. I'll follow your rules." He did as she asked, admittedly much more comfortable now. Vampires produced virtually no body heat, he had learned, so they had to get warmth where they could.

He was about to shut his eyes again when a hand grabbed his under the covers. It was a slender hand, smooth and perfect and very distracting. Teldryn was content to hold it until the end of time.

For a while they existed like that, and he was almost sureSerana had fallen asleep when there was a sudden pressure against one of his limbs.

"Is that your leg?" He murmured, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. "It seems to have wandered from your side."

"Oh." Serana said. "Sorry."

"I wasn't complaining. Like I said before, it's your bed, and you can do anything you want in it."

She smiled, and even in the near total darkness of the bedroom he could see the white glow of her canines. "Anything?", she asked.

"Any and every little thing your wanton heart desires," Teldryn replied. "Just consider this, Serana: when you're playing with fire, a Dunmer in your bed can be very dangerous. Especially a Dunmer as ravishing as me."

"I want this." Her leg rubbed slowly against his. "Not because of my guilt over what I did to you, and not even because I'm lonely. I won't make any promises, Teldryn. I don't know what our future holds. We might be dead before the next full moon, or we might live for thousands of years more. Whatever happens, I want you beside me."

Teldryn rolled over to face her, their bodies now overwhelmingly close. "I feel the same. The least we can do is give it our best try, with Runa and Jax and all the rest of them. Those days will not belong to us; they will belong to fate, or the gods, or whoever decides what happens to two beautiful people in way over their heads. But every day afterward will be ours, to go to Morrowind or to the end of the world if we want. And this day, in this poorly lit bloodsucker palace, this day is ours as well. And I can think of no one I would rather spend it with."

He reached out, and she shivered pleasantly at his touch. Afterwards Teldryn would think of how wondrous the world could be, where two people made so cold could create such warmth together. The covers ended up on the floor, along with his new robes, but neither of them noticed or cared. The bloodthirsty beast inside him remained quiet, perhaps out of respect or out of fear, even as the hours stretched on and the sun outside fell to the horizon. He saw the stone balcony again, and Serana watching the sunrise as the sea breeze blew on their faces. The vision was so real he could nearly reach out and touch it. This is the future I choose. I will live or die with Serana Volkihar. For a time Teldryn's worries fell away, some of them for good, and flames were rekindled in parts of his heart he thought forever darkened.


"Wonderful rowing, dear." Teldryn complimented her, and then redoubled his own efforts. "You truly missed your calling as a seedy pirate of Solitude bay."

Serana exhaled quickly, her arms working fast. "The threat of being turned into ashes is a pretty good motivator."

They had worked on the boat until nearly the end of the night, when Teldryn had been forced to admit the craft was as seaworthy as it would ever be. Now only a few minutes remained for them to reach the shore of Haafingar Hold before the sun came up. They could survive in the light far better than lesser vampires, Serana had assured him, as long as they kept their hoods up and their bloodthirst sated. But if they were caught on the open water, tired and exposed, nothing would save them.

"What's the plan once we've landed?" Serana asked, in between strokes.

Teldryn smiled at her. Every time he looked at her he found himself smiling now, almost involuntarily. "I was thinking we could find a nice cave, maybe recuperate for a week or two. Let the muscles relax, and all."

She rolled her eyes and grinned, quite an impressive feat given they were both being constantly hit with ocean spray. "An hour or two, maybe. One advantage we have over the Brotherhood is we don't have to sleep for very long."

"I could do an hour." Teldryn's expression turned serious. "Truly, though, we should hire a boat to take us to Dawnstar from Solitude. The assassins won't have had that option, given they're carrying two unconscious people along with them. They'll have to avoid the roads. I'm guessing they purchased a couple of carts and are taking dirt paths the long way round. Taking a ferry, we should arrive at the same time as them if not ahead."

"You really think Runa and Jax are still out of it?" Serana grimaced, working the oar harder. "It's been days."

Teldryn nodded. "I've been thinking about that. The little vampire knew her way around an alchemy table, judging by the power of that invisibility potion she used in our laboratory encounter. She's likely kept them asleep for the most part, and drowsy and compliant when they need to eat and drink. Even the Dragonborn can be poisoned, if you get the dosage right."

Serana said nothing, perhaps as disturbed as he was at the thought of Runa and Jax being force fed potions and thrown into carts to be dragged around like sacks of grain. They rowed fiercely against the rough waters, very mindful of the light surfacing on the horizon. It would be unbelievably humiliating to be turned into ashes in my first week of being a vampire. He had no desire to see the horrors of Coldharbour anytime soon, even if Serana would be there with him.

Castle Volkihar was in actuality remarkably close to the shore; you could even see the dock you would be landing at if you squinted hard enough on either side. Nevertheless, to Teldryn it was a colossal relief to finally feel the ground of Skyrim beneath his feet again. They stepped out of the boat into cold knee-deep water, and he pushed the vessel against the waves until it was floating away from them, empty and forlorn.

"Any reason you're banishing our poor boat to the sea?" Serana asked, watching the craft recede once they were solidly on the shore.

"If anyone comes looking for us, they won't know where we landed," Teldryn replied. The first rays of the sunrise were hitting them. He pulled his hood up. "It's a trick I learned some time ago, from an n'wah best left unnamed."

Serana turned away from the sun and shrugged her own hood into place. He put a hand on her shoulder, and marveled at the mountains of Haafingar before them. The next few days would be traversing lengthy paths up the rocky cliffs, and taking refuge in caves when they could. With the challenges before them, the way ahead seemed daunting. But with such good company at my side and a bottle of blood in my satchel, I think I'll do alright.

"Let's go," he said, and took Serana's hand.


Elisif dreamed of betrayal, of Siddgeir of Falkreath lying dead with her sword in his heart. She saw Sybille watching her, and Bolgeir. But that's not right. He wasn't there. Elisif looked again, and Jarl Merilis had joined Siddgeir at her feet. Instead of a sword, a crossbow bolt pierced her heart.

"Gods above, Elisif!" Torygg gasped, now standing beside Bolgeir. "What's happened? What have you done?"

She tried to explain, tried to make him understand why she had to kill them both, but her mouth was sealed shut and so she could only stare at the image of her dead husband. As Elisif watched him sputter and cry, her frustration gradually turned to fury and disgust. By what right does he judge me? If he had put the people of Skyrim above his precious Nord honor, Ulfric Stormcloak would've been thrown in the dungeons and then executed. Everything could have stayed the same.

She awoke, the memory of her dream dissipating like a cup of water poured into the sea. Someone was knocking on her door, quietly but urgently. Elisif rubbed her eyes and threw on some clothes, her secret dagger hidden securely in a pocket. Has Brunwulf's spy arrived earlier than expected?

The door opened, and Glarynil's head poked around the edge.

"Come!" he hissed.

"I'm not going anywhere with you." Elisif's eyes narrowed. This was the soldier that had so casually murdered Brina Merilis.

Glarynil made a sound of frustration and slipped into the room, closing the door carefully behind him.

"Are you being a dense bitch on purpose, or are Nord women just born that way?" He asked, turning to look at her contemptuously. "Free-Winter said you'd be ready. Obviously he overestimated you."

"You're his spy?" She asked incredulously. "You seemed fairly loyal to Stoker when you fired your crossbow."

The elf sniffed. "Disobeying a direct order would have exposed me, and I couldn't very well shoot the Emissary with that bastard dragon right behind us. You really should use your brain more often, though I suppose they call you Elisif the Fair rather than Elisif the Sharp for good reason."

"This could be a trick. Maybe Brunwulf's being tortured in another room."

Glarynil sighed, running a hand over his face. "Why? Why would Stoker want to trick you? He already has all the Jarls of Skyrim he needs trapped in this Auriel-cursed monastery, he has the dragons, he has the Eye and the Staff. You've already knelt to him. There is nothing more you can give up, you dreadfully slow wench."

"Alright, then." Elisif crossed her arms. "If Stoker's doing so well, why betray him?"

"I don't want the world to end." Glarynil admitted. "I have substantial wealth in many of Tamriel's provinces, and a multitude of pleasures to enjoy yet. My assignment to this position was politically motivated, but I've grown quite bored of it. Stoker can become a spirit or a god or a snow elf for all I care. I've no desire to join him."

"Even if that's true," Elisif replied, "Just releasing us won't be enough to stop his plans. There's no way the eight of us can stand against a dragon, let alone a dragon assisted by Thalmor soldiers."

"First of all," Glarynil said, reclining on her bed. "Once I help you and the others escape, there is no 'us' any longer. Second of all, you may have some help soon. I've been hearing interesting news from our scouts in the field, news I've been keeping from Emissary Stoker."

"News?" Elisif asked, cautiously beginning to actually listen to the traitorous soldier.

"A group of men from the Imperial Legion had rather quietly taken back the city of Windhelm. I was going to report this to the Emissary and recommend we sink the city, but then our Eastmarch scout reported the invaders had rapidly left Windhelm and scattered to the hills. After hearing this bit of news, I slit the scout's throat and pushed him into a snowdrift."

"The soldiers know about the Eye." Elisif was catching on. "They have someone among them that knows what the Thalmor are up to."

"Finally, a glint of sunlight in the dim cloud of your mind, Elisif." Glarynil got up and walked to the door. "And when whoever that is comes here, I want to be on the side of the fighting that supports the continued existence of this world, and all of its wonderful wines and women. Now come with me, or stay here and be Stoker's puppet until he figures out how to end it all."

Elisif didn't hesitate to follow Glarynil. Out in the hallway, there were thankfully no other Thalmor. There were muffled voices in the direction of the main chamber.

"Go talk to your counterparts, and tell them to be ready to go at a moment's notice." Glarynil waved her away as if she were an annoying insect. "No one will patrol this hallway for at least an hour. I've made sure of it." With that, he left her alone.

Elisif glanced at the doors to the Jarls' rooms, and then in the direction of the main chamber. An hour. I can't waste this opportunity. And I don't trust Glarynil. She crept over to the door, the voices getting louder. Moving as slowly and silently as she could, Elisif opened the doorway a crack.

"-goes smoothly while you're away," Glarynil said. "You're not taking Merkoorzaam with you?"

"No." Stoker's deep voice sounded troubled. "I want him here, protecting the Eye. If the dimming of the soul gem means what I think it does, then Jaxius Amaton has returned. The girl will be my shield, if these mercenaries can be trusted."

"How can you be so sure they have the right child?" Glarynil asked. "All these Nords look the same to me. It could be a trap."

"The description in their message matches my pre-operation reports fairly well." Stoker's voice changed direction as he paced across the chamber. "Still, I'll bring the necessary protection. Half our forces will go with me. Once I return, we'll be leaving this place permanently."

"What?" Glarynil replied. Elisif had to admire how well he kept the panic out of his voice.

"Even with the winds providing a barrier, I feel the Eye is too exposed. We'll take the Jarls to Solitude, where they can swear allegiance to the Dominion in full view of Skyrim's people. I'll have Merkoorzaam cause an avalanche behind us, and bury this place and its seven thousand steps under two hundred tons tons of rock and snow. After that, the only way to the Throat will be on the back of a dragon."

"A prudent measure." Glarynil agreed. "I'll be glad to leave this horrible stone prison behind."

She moved away from the door. Girl? What girl? Elisif recalled that Jax had an adopted daughter, but had assumed the child had died at Lakeview Manor. Maybe it's another girl, one I know nothing about. Even if only half the awful stories Stoker had told her about the Dragonborn were true, Jax had been keeping much from her.

Time to make use of our time. Elisif crept from door to door, unlocking and pushing open. In a short time, the seven remaining Jarls of Skyrim were standing outside their cells, looking around cautiously.

"Good work, my Queen." Brunwulf Free-Winter said. "I was worried our friend among the Thalmor might not come through for us. But this is earlier than I expected."

"We can't stay here any longer," Elisif replied, standing in the middle of the hallway. All the Jarls' turned to focus on her as she spoke. "Stoker is leaving for a short while, but when he returns he's taking us to Solitude. Once we're behind those walls, they'll be no escape."

Jarl Igmund spat. "And why should we follow you anywhere? Brina Merilis was your loyal servant, and she got a crossbow bolt for her trouble. Every one of your decisions has led to disaster."

"I didn't kill Jarl Merilis." Internally, Elisif sighed in frustration. Can't they see I'm trying to save their lives? "One of Stoker's men murdered her."

Jarl Hrongar chuckled darkly, and she was stunned to see hatred when she met his eyes. "That's not what the elf told us. He said he asked you to make a choice, and you chose a brave and loyal woman who would have followed you into Oblivion had you asked her. And that's not all he told us, kneeler. What happened to Siddgeir?"

Elisif's fists clenched. He's been talking to my Jarls, that underhanded bastard. Trying to turn them against me. "You believe that monster over your own Queen?"

Jarl Dengeir of Falkreath spoke up. "My nephew was lazy and self-serving, but even he deserved better than a clandestine execution in the dark. You're no better than he was. A Solitude puppet, handpicked by the Emperor."

Igmund grunted assent. "Titus Mede is dead now, and so is the Dragonborn that won you your throne."

Hrongar walked up to her, slowly, as if it pained him. She tried to fight the urge to back away as he towered over her. When she looked in his eyes, the hate had fled. It had been replaced with weariness and disappointment.

"Elisif," he said. "You led our army into ruin, but war is war and no one could blame you for that. But with the murders of Siddgeir and Merilis, you betrayed us. By kneeling to the elves, you've betrayed the people of Skyrim. Surrender has always been a path open to us, but it should have been one we chose together." Hrongar bowed his head. "I can't let my people bleed any further because of your mistakes."

"No," Elisif said, feeling the world slip away from her. "You swore an oath to serve me. At the moot, after the war. It wasn't conditional, Jarl Hrongar!" But he was turning away from her, going back to his cell.

"Farewell." Hrongar said, looking back at her from his doorway. "Wherever you go, you go without Whiterun beside you. I hope you survive the battles to come." The door shut behind him.

Two other Jarls immediately followed his example. Igmund was no surprise, given that he'd been one of her detractors from the beginning. Dengeir had been an unknown entity since his arrival at the start of their march to Labyrinthian, but she was still sorry to see him forsake her so quickly.

Jarl Black-Briar said, "The big oaf made some good points. Who's to say that any Jarl caught trying to escape won't be executed? And even if I didn't care for my own life, which I assure you I do very dearly, my children are still in Riften. And as much as I hate their groveling ways, I won't see them destroyed along with my city all because I participated in some poorly planned attempt to freeze to death."

Elisif could think of nothing to say. The Jarl of Riften inclined her head towards her, more respect than she expected, before slipping into her room and closing the door.

They betrayed me. While we're in the hands of the enemy, they choose his word over mine and would rather rot in their cells then follow me into freedom. Elisif slipped a hand into her pocket, feeling the metal hilt of her dagger there. How easy it would be, to take the weapon and find Stoker before he could leave. She'd stab him a hundred times, even as his guards cut her down. No one would question her allegiance to Skyrim then, would they? They turned against me, so easily. Maybe their hearts were black from the beginning.

"I'm with you." Jarl Ravencrone said, breaking the long silence. "Even with Morthal in its watery grave, I'm with you. Better than lying in my cell and staring at that unfamiliar ceiling, waiting for an elf to lead me to a prettier prison."

Jarl Kraldar called out, "As am I. Never let it be said that Winterhold rested while the enemy worked against us."

Brunwulf came to her, and held out his hands. Elisif let go of the dagger and sighed, resting her palms against his. There was a time I considered this man to be an uncle to me. Times have changed, and at the same time they haven't at all.

"My loyalty is absolute, High Queen." Brunwulf said. "I'll be ready to go when you need me, even if it means we die on a freezing mountain path. This is not an easy road that we walk together, Elisif, but it's the only true one left to us."

"Thank you." Elisif replied quietly. I've the Queen of three Jarls, now. That's one less than when the Civil War was raging against Ulfric Stormcloak. "I don't know when the time will come for us to make our move, but it'll be soon. Have your warmest clothes ready, and be prepared to leave at a second's notice."

Her loyal Jarls returned to their cells, and Elisif slowly went door to door sliding the locks back into place. She hesitated at Hrongar's cell, for a moment wanting nothing more than to burst in and beg for his forgiveness. The inclination passed. He's made his decision. When Stoker sends him back to Whiterun with gilded chains fastened around his ankles, he'll know how wrong he was to turn away from me.

Elisif returned to her own cell, and several minutes later heard Glarynil locking the door. She sat for hours on the end of her bed, her hand in her pocket, once again feeling the comforting coldness of her secret dagger.


"Hold fast, Serana. I've just spotted something quite concerning."

She stopped. "What? Oh, that's just the Dragon Bridge. It's made of stone. Just like the road beneath our feet. It can't hurt you."

"I'm not frightened of stone, dear. Take a closer look at what's clinging to the underside, in the shadows. I wouldn't have spotted it myself if not for these predator's eyes you've given me."

Serana leaned forward, squinting. "Oh. Yeah, that's a little alarming. Any ideas on how we should deal with it?"

"If we can see it, even with our enhanced vision, then it has certainly seen us. Jax once told me a dragon perched on the slopes of Shearpoint can spot a field mouse in the plains of Whiterun below."

"Hmm." Serana bit her lower lip. "So the dragon knows we're here, but hasn't attacked us yet. I've only met a few dragons in my time, but that seems out of the ordinary."

"I agree." Teldryn stepped out of the shadows and back on to the road. "We'd better introduce ourselves, before the beast changes its mind. If it wanted us dead, we'd already be ashes blowing down towards Rorikstead."

She fell in step beside him after a moment's hesitation. They walked towards the Dragon Bridge, the sights and scents of the morning around them. Despite the stinging rays of the sun on his shadowed face, Teldryn couldn't deny he was ecstatic being back in Skyrim once more. Castle Volkihar had been damp, dreary, and worst of all, dreadful to look at. Even in winter, the green grasses and tall flowers of Haafingar persisted, like beautiful sentinels of a spring long gone. The air was rich with the smell of life and the buzzing of bees, all unknowing to the perils of their country. Though Teldryn wished so desperately to be living along with them, he had never treasured his enhanced senses more.

"Here we go." The ancient bridge was before them. In the center, the grand arch was decorated with a giant dragon's head. They could see the small village named for the bridge over the rise, but no sounds of inhabitation. Maybe the dragon scared them away. Teldryn took a step forward. Or ate them.

Serana spoke up after they'd gone a few more steps. "Hello? Big red dragon? We'd like to talk to you, if you have the time."

Teldryn was about to quietly criticize her dragon greeting techniques when a colossal crimson head rose above the side of the bridge. They froze. The neck the head was attached to was as thick as a ship's mast, and covered in scales Teldryn knew were near impenetrable. The dragon looked down at them, its yellow eyes filled with an ancient ambivalence. I have never felt more like nothing. After a second of appraising them, the head moved closer and sniffed at their unmoving forms.

"Disgusting." The dragon's voice was simultaneously booming and horrifying. "A pair of sosnaak come on to my bridge, and in the light of sul no less. You are either very brave, or very stupid, to approach Odahviing unarmed."

Odahviing. I've heard that name somewhere before. "We are friends of the Dragonborn," Teldryn announced, trying to keep his voice from shaking. This could either save us or kill us. "You haven't seen him pass through here, have you?"

"A dangerous laan you ask, sosnaak." Odahviing's head moved closer, until it was only a few feet away from them. Teldryn could smell blood and flesh on the beast's breath. "A dangerous question indeed. The dovahkiin has many enemies in this lein. How is it you know he is returned, if you are not among the most powerful of his adversaries?"

The Dunmer vampire took a step forward, not breaking eye contact with the dragon. They respect dominance, right? "I know Jax is alive because I brought him back. I traveled to the Soul Cairn and pulled his carcass up about two hundred ghostly stairs, and if you know where he is you had better tell me before I make a fresh pair of boots out of your worthless hide."

Odahviing chuckled, the sound like a hundred fingernails scraping against rough stone. "There is yol in you, for certain. Strange for a sosnaak. But answer me this, drinker of blood; if you have been the Soul Cairn, you must have met the guardian that resides there. He is of the dovah, at least for the most part. Speak his faan, what you would call his name, and earn your life."

Serana spoke, "Durnehviir."

The dragon nodded, the motion almost knocking Teldryn off his feet. Then Odahviing slipped on to the bridge, as fluidly as a cat. For a beast of such size, he moves with startling grace. The dragon unfurled one red wing, and the Dragonborn slid gently down to rest on one of the bridge's stone pillars.

"Jax!" Teldryn rushed forward, stunned and gladdened. Jaxius Amaton looked dreadfully thin, and his skin was as pale as milk. But he was alive, alive, and for the moment that was all that mattered.

"The dovahkiin is changed." Odahviing was perched on the stone dragonhead, looking down at them. "It has been a few cycles of the sul since he called my name. I found him lying in the waters of the lom, the river far below us. Since then, he has not spoken."

Teldryn and Serana knelt by Jax, their hands on his shoulders. The Dragonborn's eyes looked past them, clouded and dark. If he had any reaction to Teldryn's changed state of living, he didn't show it.

"It's wonderful to see you again," Serana said quietly. "It's alright if you don't want to say anything. We're just happy you're back with us."

Jax inclined his head a fraction of an inch, the tension around his eyes loosening somewhat. Teldryn didn't understand. This wasn't the elf he had known, the invincible and towering killer of dragons. What could he have seen in the worlds beyond this one, to frighten him so?

Teldryn smiled despite his worries. My friend has returned. But many troubles press for our attention, and we can't waste a moment.

"Runa," Teldryn said. Jax's eyes focused on him, sudden and intense. "Do you remember where they were taking her, Jax? Can you tell us where the assassins are going?"

Serana said, "I don't know if we should press him so hard, Teldryn, so soon after he's returned. We can't imagine the trauma he's experienced in the last couple of weeks alone."

"You're right, of course." Teldryn felt ashamed, but before now he had taken comfort in the idea Jax and Runa were together, if nothing else. Now he knew she was alone, with that murdering Redguard and the cold child, and it was like a needle in his heart. "You don't have to speak, friend. We can just lay here for a while."

But Jax's cracked lips were moving, slowly but with purpose. Teldryn shifted closer, moving his pointed ear towards Jax's mouth. The words were near silent, with none of the power of the Thu'um behind them, but to Teldryn they were among the most important the Dragonborn would ever utter.

Teldryn looked up at Serana, his brow creasing. We're going to find those n'wahs, and make them regret ever daring to hurt Runa Fair-Shield.

He said, "Darkwater Crossing."


Dovahzul Appendix

sosnaak = vampire

sul = sun

Odahviing = winged snow hunter

lein = world

yol = fire

dovah = dragon

faan = name

lom = river

Author's Note: I've changed a few sentences of Chapter 27 to make the events of Frea's sacrifice clearer. Hope you're continue to enjoy the story as we near the end!