Serana rolled into her room like a tornado, stripping her cloak and leather mail. She abandoned them aside on the floor as she head towards the bed.
Graven was going to be a taught a lesson he wasn't going to forget any time soon.
"Ser-"
"Strip." She whirled around, doing her best to at least appear calm even when she was fuming inside. She crossed her arms and waited on him, while he stood gaping like a fool. "A fool he most certainly is." She gestured to the bed. "What are you waiting for?"
"Just to be clear so that we're on the same page... you're turning me, right?"
"I'll turn you to the hounds if you don't do as I say," she snapped. She stomped over behind him and pushed him to the bed, frustrated when he curtailed his confusion and shock behind that damn facade of stoicism and serenity. She hovered above him and bared her fangs with an exaggerated hiss meant to instill fear in him and instigate doubts over his foolish decision.
He didn't react.
Graven reached up and cupped her cheek with a warm smile instead. "It'll be okay, Serana."
"This isn't the time for you to be all happy-go-lucky, it won't be okay! What were you thinking? I can't turn you!"
"It's going to be okay," he continued to insist. He reached with his other hand and slid behind her neck, pulling with such tenderness in increments until her frustration gave in. She curled in on herself to hide her face, the top of her head digging into his chest. She clawed at his coat and all she wanted to do was to pierce it with her nails until it sunk into his ribs, to get this anger out of her system. The pressure grew against her head when he crunched up for his arms to reach around her shoulders, and she fell apart.
"I can't turn you," she urged. "Please don't make me turn you."
"I would rather you than any other vampire in the world. Especially your father."
Serana's head shot up, and she had to back away a little when their faces were too close for comfort. "You don't have to be turned!"
"I said I was with you. I'm not leaving you alone here, especially to face your demons by yourself."
"What is wrong with him? I've done nothing to deserve this! He's just a fool blinded by his fairy tale notion of love, or whatever in Oblivion he's feeling!" Serana pushed him down by his chest and pinned him there as she straddled his hips, trying to buy herself time to think of what was an actual solution here. Her head lulled back and she closed her eyes, sucking in a deep breath. It shivered out of her in a hoarse whisper. "We're not doing this, Graven. Do you even know what it means to be turned?"
"Apparently I must be stark naked and on the bed. I must admit, I don't quite object to the idea."
Serana laughed mirthlessly and rolled her eyes. She looked down at him with somberness that killed his playful little smile. "That was meant to get you to feel uncomfortable and vulnerable, wondering if you're going to be violated. That's what it's going to feel like when I turn you. And then you're going to experience death as if you were to drown, helpless to stop it, seeing your life flash before your eyes. It's not like going to a picnic, Graven. It's going to be terrifying."
"Then who better to endure it with me than you?" He reached up and brushed his knuckles against her cheek. His thumb swept under her eye. "I must admit, I still don't quite object to the idea of being vulnerable and violated by you."
"Stop it," she chuckled. "This isn't a joke."
"It's got you laughing and smiling."
"Doesn't mean it's funny. It's horrible." She didn't reject his touch, but her eyes fell to his chest. She undid the clasp of his cloak and slowly opened his shirt when she pulled out the laces of his collar. His tattoos hummed with energy when she spread her palm out on them. "Do you know how and why vampirism exists?"
"I've had considerable exposure and was able to intimately study all the Daedric Lords in my tenure at the college."
"What a roundabout answer. A yes would have sufficed." Something else captivated her interest though. Tenure. And he mentioned something about students taking direction with his techniques. She continued to explore his tattoos and her hand disappeared under his shirt, tracing wherever the line of energy guided her fingertip. "You were a professor?"
"For a short time. My theories piqued the interest of one of the scholars and I apprenticed under Drevis Neloren, who is head of the program for lectures regarding history on magical artifacts and the school of Illusion." He reached under his shirt and grabbed her hand, pressing it harder against his chest. The energy buzzed louder. "I know how and why it exists, Serana. And I've speculated the nature of your connection to vampirism. You're not just unlike the ones who run feral, contracting theirs through infection of the body. Yours was contracted through infection of the soul."
Serana almost choked. Shame filled her and she couldn't meet his eyes, but he forced her to when he cupped her jaw and guided her to lift her head.
"Do you know why I'm not afraid to be turned, Serana? Because you didn't let it infect your heart. You still have a pure heart, remember?"
She smiled small, riddled with sadness. "By your definition."
"You're proving that definition even now. You consider it as hurting me - killing me, by turning me. But you're the reason I'm not afraid, because I have proof before my eyes that what vampirism cannot do is change the heart, no matter how much pain and suffering is inflicted. I hold fast to my faith that I will be okay no matter how things turn out. I know that I will still be me, who I fundamentally am, regardless of how I appear or what I hunger for. I know that because you inspired that faith. I fear not the darkness. Sometimes you have to embrace it to stop it, and sometimes you have to know it to appreciate that light."
"Stop," she whispered frailly. She couldn't listen to this. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Why can't you walk away? Let go? I'll help you get back on the ship and-"
"I'm not leaving you in the place where demons live." He poked her forehead. "I'm coming into that place..." A playful smile danced on his lips. "So you can enjoy my company instead." Graven gently pushed her off his hips and climbed off the bed. He collected her cape and her leather mail to hang them over a chair at the desk she used to read her books at. He removed his coat and pulled his shirt off overhead to join her belongings, exposing himself as he stripped down to his loincloth.
"What are you doing?" Serana asked, warmth prodding the inside of her cheeks.
"I'm doing as you say so I won't be turned to the hounds," he quipped jovially, and he thumbed at the string of his loincloth. "Should I take this off too?"
"N-no, that isn't necessary." She pushed off the bed and took a few steps back when he came and laid down. Her breath kicked against her chest when he closed his eyes.
"I'm ready, Serana."
It felt like time froze. The only reason she knew it was still flowing was because his chest rose and fell as he breathed. It was her reminder to do the same for herself, a reminder that she kept holding her breath. She approached the bed at the pace of a snail, hesitant and anxious. She had never turned anyone before.
"Mother said it's intimate. How intimate? Would it feel as though we're having..." Serana couldn't finish the thought. The air felt stuffy and hot as if she was bathing in a hot spring's steam. She rested her knee on the edge of the bed and climbed up to kneel beside him. His limbs were sprawled, palms facing up. Something rattled inside of her and she reached to touch the scar of two pinpricks in his palm. His chest kicked in a sudden inhale and goosebumps broke out over his skin, and she took her hand away from him. He caught it instead.
"Keep holding it, please. Even after I die."
Were she not truly listening, she would have missed the subdued tremble in his tranquil voice. "He is afraid. Why is he trying to pretend he's not? It's natural to be. I was too." She squeezed his hand to answer him and hovered lower. Her fangs elongated when she neared his neck, closing her eyes.
"Do you want to drink from me before you turn me?" Graven whispered.
Serana swallowed nervously and squeezed his hand again. What that was supposed to mean was left up to his interpretation. She couldn't find her voice anymore. She opened her eyes to steal a glimpse of him, and a strange sensation washed over her when his remained closed.
"He trusts me. He... trusts me. He's giving me his life."
Her fangs slipped back behind her lips. She suddenly straddled his waist and caged his head in between her elbows, and his eyes flew open too late to brace himself for her when she claimed his mouth. She hastily shut her eyes for she was embarrassed, or maybe she just didn't want to see the rejection coming. She smiled when his teeth bumped against her in his shy attempt to kiss her back. Another strange sensation washed over her, and fueled her, when hot coarse hands snuck under her tunic to run up her sides. Her tunic kept rolling up and up and up as his hands slid higher, and she broke the kiss to pull her shirt off overhead, tossing it to the side without care.
"Sera-"
She didn't let him finish and slammed her lips over his again. She was overcome with that damn thing that ran hot in her chest and she swore she was going to explode if she didn't find a way to get it out of her. It boiled hotter when he remained so passive and innocent with his hands, and she broke the kiss to try and instigate the same fire inside of him when she scraped her fangs against his throat. He groaned and clutched her waist hard enough to know there were going to be bruises later.
"Serana-"
"Let me have this, don't stop it."
"No no no, I am definitely not going to try stopping this." He grabbed her shoulders and pushed with all his might to put some distance between them, face to face. He grinned meekly. "I just wanted to remind you that I have no experience with women. Maybe you should turn me first before I disappoint you so much that you'll turn me to those hounds?"
Serana laughed. She shook her head and leaned back to sit on his hips. "You're not the only one without experience."
"I'm pretty sure I'm the one that's bumping teeth like we're going to war, not you."
"That's because I'm trying not to lacerate your lip with my fangs," she shot back playfully.
"So if you turn me, then I'll stop bumping teeth because I'll be trying the same."
"Are you planning to annoy me with this just to get it over with?"
"Uh... well, yeah. Is it working? I'd like to be more invested in kissing you rather than being terrified as to when it's going to happen. Please?"
Serana sucked in a sharp breath. She nibbled the corner of her lip and sighed with resignation. "Alright." She rested her hands on his chest, predominantly where the tattoos were to feel that constant energy buzzing at her fingertips. She didn't hide her fangs from him and let them elongate again, keeping her eyes on him the entire time she lowered to his neck until they could no longer maintain their gaze from the angle. She gently nudged his jaw to the side with her nose to expose his throat more.
"My hand," he murmured. She nodded and blindly reached down, searching for it, and squeezed his hand when she lined her fangs up to the artery that pounded faster.
"Ready, Graven?"
"Ready." The bob of his throat went up and down in a thick swallow. He held her hand bruisingly tight when the tips of her fangs touched skin.
Serana shut her eyes as tightly as possible and tried not to groan with pleasure over the taste of his blood flooding her mouth. Guilt wracked her when he let out a strangled gasp, and he did his best to suppress his sounds of pain as she drank, and drank, and drank, and drank, gorging herself and gouging him of his blood. His grip slackened bit by bit, and her heart cried out when she smelled salt and felt moisture steadily collect at the top of her lip, a tiny stream coming to wash the blood that trickled out and away from her. She hated not being able to stop and talk to him, say comforting words, say something.
"It's better if I just get this over with as quickly as possible or his suffering will only be prolonged if I keep stopping and going."
He let go of her hand, weakly grabbing her hips. It wasn't when they slipped away that broke her apart, but his whisper when he slipped away.
"I'm sorry, Serana."
When there was no blood left to be drawn, she subjugated the essence of her magic into him. If only he were alive to feel this, to know what she was doing, he'd probably be positively thrilled and work to figure out the mechanics of the medley of energies pouring into his body to create necrotic arteries and the sustenance to sustain them, even if they're dark energies.
The smell of salt never left. When she pulled away from him and wiped her lips with her hand, she collected blood and tears. She hated this. Hated what she did, what she was. She should have never brought him here. She should have never come home. Father would have never found them, especially if they spent their days on the ship. Was he even the one who had sent vampires to free her from the crypt? He was indifferent over her return and asked for the scroll instead of her wellbeing. He didn't care about her at all, or prided her over the duty she felt she had to keep. Nothing.
Now she took Graven's life. She's condemned him to a life out on the run, in hiding, in darkness, alone with his demons in his head. She killed the Dragonborn and gave a powerful being an even more terrifyingly powerful gift: immortality. He may not have been corrupted by his power now, but he had all the time in the universe to be twisted. His philosophy wasn't foolproof. It was just a philosophy, a perspective, and perspectives could bleed and they could die.
"I need out. I need fresh air." She scrambled off the bed and collected her tunic. She didn't care if she was putting it on backwards, as long as it was on, and she rushed for the balcony before she suffocated in her guilt and doubts. He was gone for just a minute and she was already drowning in her demons.
As soon as she plowed open the creaky door and was outside, she allowed herself to fall apart, to feel every emotion as it came and went. Her eyes burned and the tears flowed freely. She couldn't get rid of the image from her mind of the dried tear streaks on Graven's face. They came, and they went, slowing down as his body shut down, dying with him. Her head fell and she braced it against the frigid railing, burying herself as her arms flopped over, fingers tugging on hair. She didn't know how long he was going to be gone but it already felt like an eternity. She never realized how much she'd miss him until now, and she wanted it to be over. She didn't want to be alone.
What would she have done if he had left, unscathed and unturned? She didn't want to think about it. There was a pervasive loneliness in the court that she would never be able to shake out, and she knew now that coming here was one of her worst mistakes in her life. Bring the scroll to father, to see what he was going to do with it?
"Stupid. Absolutely stupid. I should have known better. I had known better... but hope. I'm always hoping he'll just wake up and change, be who he used to be. I should have known that taking away what he wanted most was only going to drive him mad and want it even more."
"Serana."
Her head whipped up in a fury and she looked over, stunned. Graven was already up and had followed her, his hand on the door. It never creaked shut. He must have been up and following her the moment she left for the balcony. Was recovering that fast normal? She couldn't remember how long she was out.
"I don't remember asking. Or caring."
He approached her and she stepped back, holding her arms out to keep him at a distance. She knew what he was going to do and she was undeserving of it.
"Grave-"
He embraced her.
Grave. A coffin, someone pounding on the lid. Her dream was trying to tell her something. She ignored it. "Stupid, stupid, stupid."
"Let's head inside," he whispered. When he tried to move, she resisted. He persisted. Eventually she caved in, but she didn't want to raise her head. It was embarrassing to be caught in this state when she was supposed to be the definition of calm and graceful and kept together. She fell apart when she felt cold breaths seep into her scalp as pressure grew against the top of her head. His words were muffled, the movement of his lips felt through hair. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you to do that... but if it's any consolation, I'm glad it was you who turned me, and that it was you who stayed with me."
"I ran away," she croaked miserably. "I didn't stay."
"I don't remember this." His playful tone, however quiet and gentle, was enough to earn a little punch to the side and he laughed. His arms fell and he withdrew from the hug, or tried to, and she held on to him so he wouldn't see her. "I do, however, remember something that's far more critically important..." He pulled away and she hated how she had to fight a little more now that he had a bit more strength himself. Hopefully this was the extent of it and he wouldn't grow even stronger once vampirism truly settled in. He was able to pry away enough to frame her jaw and she was exposed, knowing she likely looked like a mess. She stopped caring when he claimed her lips.
And chuckled when their fangs bumped together.
Author's Note
The beauty of writing from Serana's perspective is that we only see what Graven portrays rather than what he's thinking, and that's all I'm saying ;)
Thank you very much to both reviewers and those who are following/favoriting the story! I thought I was going to get to my favorite parts but once again my ideas have come out much longer typed out. Next chapter should be the part I've been waiting to write, and I can't wait anymore! Hope to see you all there!
