Chapter 2: A Question of Character
A/N: Hello again! I'm aiming for weekly updates for this story, but I figured I'd release this one to give the story a bit more substance before starting an upload schedule. There's a slightly different format in this chapter; let me know which you prefer. Also, this chapter introduces perspective switches. I don't put warnings before each switch, but it's easy to tell which perspective it is. Enjoy.
The shelves were almost overflowing with histories, biographies, spell tomes and accounts, but what Serana found most interesting were the anatomy textbooks.
As it turned out, her pale, secretive rescuer was more than just an antisocial mage. He'd written volumes upon volumes of books detailing biological information on all types of creatures, be they human, Mer, or beastfolk. And not just that—he'd even drawn right into the books, complex sketches of everything he wrote. Musculature, nerves, blood systems. His strange applications of spells like Detect Life had led to some fascinating discoveries indeed.
And when she'd finished admiring the books on fauna, she discovered his tomes on flora, full of alchemical information and beaded with long words she'd never read before. It was the kind of collection that took decades to amass. He'd written about everything from fish to nirnroots, Dwemer automatons and Telvanni fungal spores, frost trolls and even dragons.
It made her wonder even more who this man was. He had to be older than he looked, which wouldn't be strange—not for an Altmer, which was her best guess at his heritage—but she couldn't shake the feeling something was wrong about him. He was completely isolated. He avoided major cities. He kept his features hidden. His eyes were haunted by atrocities she couldn't begin to imagine.
And he'd written textbooks like none she'd seen elsewhere.
By the blood, who are you?
Serana shut an alchemical textbook with a muted snap and glanced over at Vafiél's sleeping form. His expression was tense and the tips of his ears twitched every so often. She'd heard him utter some broken syllables in his sleep that she thought might have been a name, but it was hard to tell. It sounded vaguely like 'Eleana.' Serana wondered who he grieved for, but wasn't sure she really wanted the answer.
He'd overslept, but she didn't wake him; better that they start travelling at sunset and through the night to avoid the sunlight as much as possible. Serana laughed quietly through her nose when she realised she was subtly conditioning Vafiél into being nocturnal like her.
The sun was starting to dip into the horizon when she finally tried to wake him. He looked thinner without the cloak hiding his body from view. Warm rose light washed the chamber and softened his features and he looked peaceful at last, making her feel a little guilty for disturbing his rest, but it had to be done.
"Vafiél?" Serana murmured. "Vafiél, wake up." She tentatively reached out and touched his shoulder. He stirred with a slight frown and wrapped his fingers around the hilt of a dagger at his waist, eyes cold and hard, before recognition smoothed his face and he relaxed again.
"Serana," he said quietly, voice rasping from disuse. Vafiél blinked sleepily and glanced around the room before his gaze settled on her again. "I've overslept."
"Looks like we have that in common," she murmured, amused. "I figured we could set off at dusk."
"Of course. I'll just need a few minutes to prepare," Vafiél said, sitting up. The blushing light fell tenderly on his hair, turning the silver to gold, illuminating his fair elven features. She must have forgotten what Altmer looked like while she was asleep.
Vafiél stood and went about menial tasks, packing supplies and tidying his appearance, and Serana milled about him while she wondered how to broach the subject of the books. As he was brushing out his long hair, she asked, "How long did it take to write all those textbooks?"
His hand paused mid-stroke and he glanced at her, for a moment silent. Then: "Many years. I took my work very seriously and spent much time performing field research." He tilted his head curiously and resumed with the brush. "You read them?"
"Skimmed," Serana replied. "They're fascinating. And the drawings…"
Vafiél smiled and looked away. "They see no use now. I'm glad someone could appreciate them."
"I'm sure the College of Winterhold would kill to have those books. Instead, they're up here, locked away in a forgotten tower." Serana saw a shadow pass over his gaze, like a cloud moves in front of the moon. "Just like you. You're a skilled mage. Why—"
"Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to," Vafiél warned her, softly. He braided his hair quickly and sighed, looking over at her. "Are you ready to leave?"
"Yes. Are you?" she asked, folding her arms.
"Almost. I'll meet you outside in a moment."
Serana gave him a questioning look.
"Unless, of course, you plan on watching me change," he added, mirroring her expression.
She laughed and raised her hands defensively. "Alright, I'm going."
As promised, he met her outside after a few moments, wearing a fresh hooded cloak. This one was a rich midnight blue. "Let's be off," said Vafiél, leading the way along the north-western road.
For the first few hours, they made good ground. It was a cool, clear night, and the waxing moon provided enough light to find their way and keep the right direction. Serana didn't mind the pace Vafiél set with those long legs of his. The night gave her the strength to level with him.
At around midnight they encountered a pair of bandits looting a cart next to a dead horse. They dressed in dirty furs, and didn't seem to realise what they were getting into when they threatened Vafiél and Serana.
"No closer," spat one of the bandits, brandishing an iron axe. "Get out of here."
"This is a main road," Vafiél said lowly. "Move aside and let us pass, and we'll not trouble you."
"Ha. So he says," sneered the other bandit, whose head was half-shaven. "Looks like we'll have to kill these ones too. He talks funny. Bet he's rich. What do you say, Hald?"
"A rich man and a pretty lady," said the axe-holding bandit. "Couldn't ask for a better pair. We'll have fun with her, we will."
Serana immediately sensed danger at her side when Vafiél's hands clenched into fists. She could imagine the fury in his eyes even if she couldn't see it. Not a second passed before both bandits fell dead with icicles in their throats, and her old fears died with them.
The smell of the kill reminded her how hungry she was. She salivated at the thought of feeding on the bandits, but wondered if it would disgust Vafiél. Before she even had a chance to ask, he spoke.
"Assuming you haven't fed while I slept, you must be starved. I will wait for you up ahead," Vafiél murmured. Without another word, he continued down the path.
Once she'd had her fill, she found him leaning against a tree. He straightened at her approach and gave her a quick once-over. "Better," Vafiél said decisively, and they resumed their long march.
A fort loomed to their right when the sky began to lighten and the sun's light hovered below the horizon. Vafiél strayed from the road to look in the side of the mountain for a nook or overhang where they could rest.
She'd protested at first. "I can handle an hour or so of sunlight," she had insisted, but he could not be swayed.
"I won't put you in harm's way. I know how the sun hurts you, and I can't go on in good conscience," Vafiél had said, and that was it.
After a few long minutes of searching, he called her over to a sheltered overhang of rock, an abandoned den of some sort.
"Another cave. Not going to lock me up in this one, are you?" Serana quipped lightly.
Vafiél's laugh was barely audible. "This one's too small."
Serana shook her head, smiling, and laid out her bed roll. It was her turn to be tired. "Will you keep watch?"
"Of course," he assured her, sitting with his back to the rock and watching the entrance of the shallow cave. "Sleep well."
She drifted off to quiet birdsong.
At midday, Vafiél woke her so he could sleep, and at sunset she woke him in turn so they could set off. Serana marked a rough indication of where the jetty was on his map and he stared at it thoughtfully.
"The quickest way seems to be through Dragon Bridge," said Vafiél as they prepared to leave the cave. He didn't seem fond of the idea. "Under normal circumstances I'd suggest a detour, but we've delayed enough already. We'll have to pass through quickly—if you want to stay the night, you're welcome to, but I'll wait for you outside the town."
Serana shook her head. "We've come this far, and you're not getting rid of me that easily," she told him with a hint of a smirk. Her tone shifted to seriousness when she added, "I want to get home as quickly as possible."
Vafiél nodded, raised his hood, and again set a brisk pace along the road.
They reached Dragon Bridge a few hours before dawn. Vafiél was stiff and silent the whole time they walked through, and Serana struggled to stay at his side without breaking into a trot and drawing attention.
Just out of the town, Vafiél veered west off the road and toward a mountain pass. It was almost dawn by the time he relaxed again, when they were far from Dragon Bridge.
The day that followed was much the same as the last; they found a sheltered hollow in the mountainside to sleep in until sundown, and that night they descended the mountains using a game trail that led down to the coast.
Being nocturnal didn't bother Vafiél all that much. The night held a certain appeal; and more importantly, his travelling companion didn't burn alive.
"This must be that beautiful Skyrim weather I've heard so much about," Serana muttered, drawing a thick cloak closer around herself.
He glanced at her. Snowflakes whirled around her on a frigid breeze, and she didn't look very pleased. Vafiél couldn't say the same. "We're nearly there," he said over the wind. "You'll be home soon."
She looked up at him with a smile that didn't reach her eyes and said nothing.
When they finally reached the jetty, the wind and snow had abated. Vafiél stood near the canoe and squinted into the distance. He spotted pointed towers and expanses of stone. That isn't a house. That's a castle!
"This is the part where we get in the boat. You with me?" Serana asked.
He turned to meet her gaze. "You forgot to mention you lived in a castle," Vafiél remarked, eager for an explanation.
"I didn't want you to think I was one of those... you know, the women who just sit in their castle all day?" Serana bit her lip. "I don't know. Coming from a place like this, well... It's not really me. I hope you can believe that."
Vafiél let his expression soften. "I think I can," he murmured, pushing the canoe out and sitting in it with the oars. Once she'd joined him, he rowed them out to the island.
When they finally landed, the castle sat like a crouched beast looking down at them with displeasure. Its size was enough to intimidate, but more than that, Vafiél wondered what kind of reception he'd get. Would these vampires attack him on sight, or would Serana's presence be enough to keep them from harming him? It would speak measures about her status.
They started walking up the bridge to the castle's maw, but Serana slowed to a stop before they reached the doors.
"Hey, so… Before we go in there…" she murmured, glancing up at him.
Vafiél paused and doubled back a few steps. "Are you alright, Serana?" he asked gently.
"I think so. And thanks for asking," she answered. "I wanted to thank you for getting me this far. But after we get in there, I'm going to go my own way for a while. I hope..." She sighed and folded her arms. "I know the Dawnguard would probably want to kill everything in here. I'm hoping you can show some more control than that."
"You know I won't do anything stupid," Vafiél assured her.
"I just had to be sure. And… Once we're inside, just keep quiet for a bit. Let me take the lead," she added.
"Fine. After you, then." Vafiél gestured for her to go ahead and followed her into the castle.
Inside they emerged onto a balcony. A male vampire immediately regarded him with hostility and Vafiél tensed.
"How dare you trespass here!" the vampire snarled, but then he realised who else had entered. "Wait… Serana? Is that truly you?"
"It's me, Vingalmo," she answered.
"I cannot believe my eyes!" He hurried to the balcony and declared, "My lord! Everyone! Lady Serana has returned!"
Serana shot Vafiél a wry smile. "Guess I'm expected."
Vafiél barely noticed her quip. He was too busy watching the vampires and wondering how he'd possibly escape if they turned on him.
He followed Serana down a set of stairs leading into the dining hall they overlooked. The smell of gore and decay assaulted him and made nausea rise in his chest, but he didn't react.
A man in regal vampire's armour rose from his place at the dais and stood in the centre of the room. "My long-lost daughter returns at last," he said, strong and authoritative. "I trust you have my Elder Scroll?"
Serana bristled. "After all these years, that's the first thing you ask me? Yes, I have the scroll," she answered thornily.
"Of course I'm delighted to see you, my daughter. Must I really say the words aloud? Ah, if only your traitor mother were here, I would let her watch this reunion before putting her head on a spike." The man smiled severely. "Now tell me, who is this stranger you have brought into our hall?"
Vafiél tensed as he came to stand beside Serana in front of the man he assumed was her father. The one she didn't get along with. Vafiél thought he could see why now.
"This is my savior, the one who freed me," Serana answered, looking over at Vafiél.
The man gazed at Vafiél with hungry eyes and looked him over. "For my daughter's safe return, you have my gratitude," he said finally. "Tell me, what is your name?"
"I am Vafiél. And you are…?"
"I am Harkon, lord of this court. By now, my daughter will have told you what we are." The man raised a brow.
"Vampires," Vafiél said, answering the unasked question. "Very old vampires. No doubt powerful ones, if the castle is any indication."
"Precisely," Harkon agreed. "Clever, aren't you? Yes, for centuries we lived here, far from the cares of the world. All that ended when my wife betrayed me and stole away that which I valued most."
Vafiél glanced at Serana, but didn't dare comment.
"Now," said Harkon, "you have done me a great service, and you must be rewarded. There is but one gift I can give that is equal in value to the Elder Scroll and my daughter. I offer you my blood. Take it, and you will walk as a lion among sheep. Men will tremble at your approach, and you will never fear death again." Harkon grinned, as if he'd made an offer no one would pass up.
Vafiél was repulsed even by the thought of it. He'd seen what vampirism did to people, and immortality had always been a curse, not a blessing. "And what if I refuse this gift?" he asked calmly.
Harkon's face soured. "Then you will be prey, like all mortals. I will spare your life this once, but you will be banished from this hall." When Vafiél said nothing, he grew irritated. "Perhaps you still need convincing. Behold the power!"
The man became engulfed by darkness until he emerged with a red flash and a roar as a grotesque monstrosity, pale and tall, with twisted wings sprouting from its back and large clawed hands. It hovered just above the floor.
"This is the power that I offer! Now, make your choice, mortal!" Harkon demanded.
Vafiél did not cower before the hideous creature in front of him. With a voice like still water, he said, "I refuse."
Harkon growled. "So be it! You are prey, like all mortals. I banish you!"
Vafiél glanced at Serana, who was watching him. "Take care," he said quietly. "I hope we'll meet again someday."
The smile she gave in return was sad and hollow. "You too, Vafiél."
Harkon extended a clawed hand glowing with magic and attempted to cast a banishment spell on Vafiél. Blinding blue-white light interrupted it and shielded Vafiél from the spell.
"I will leave this castle on my own terms," Vafiél said, and with that, he walked away.