A/N: It is very hard to place when Serana became a vampire. As Babette is a vampire and stopped ageing at the time of her turning as a child, one would assume this holds up for all vampires. I have read fan theory that pureblood vampires age until maturity, but for the sake of this fic (for many reasons), despite Serana mentioning being a "little vampire girl scaring away rats," I am going to have Serana turned in her late twenties and stop ageing there.

This chapter is shorter because it would have been too long if I included the next one in it.

Side note, Serana deserves a childhood pet.

They take two days to rest and restock at Fort Dawnguard. Serana tells Destra that to find one of the scrolls, they'll have to find Valerica. She is not optimistic about the possibility. Destra tells Serana that she knows where the third scroll is. It must be the same as the one she used to learn Dragonrend, but she does not recall anything about the bow in it. Serana asks if the scroll is safe with the Orc librarian Destra left it with. The elven woman chuckles and says to her, "Nowhere safer."

They decide to pursue Valerica's scroll first since the other is well-guarded. Serana says that the last thing her mother told her was that she would be somewhere safe, somewhere even Harkon could not find her. Destra asks if she has any idea where that could be. She does not. The elven woman sighs and begins flippantly guessing locations across Skyrim. When she lands on Castle Volkihar, Serana stops her.

"Wait… that actually makes sense. My father mentioned that part of the castle was sealed away after my mother disappeared. He would never think to look there," Serana says. "It's as good a start as any."

The women set off the next morning to Riften, where they pay a carriage driver to take them to Solitude. The journey takes a couple of days, and they pass the time talking about Destra's adventures as the Dragonborn. Destra tells Serana of the Greybeards, of Paarthurnax and the months spent training with him, of trapping Odahviing in Dragonsreach, and of travelling to Sovngarde itself to defeat Alduin with the ancient Nord heroes. Serana is at a loss for words, unable to believe the mysticism of the other woman's life. She cannot help but envy her a bit.

Serana tells Destra of what little joy she found in her childhood. She mentions her mother's garden, exploring the castle undercroft and sewers, a pet skeever she managed to keep secret for two whole months. She says that she and her mother were close once, the best of friends, really. That was before the prophecy, before they were vampires even. Destra smiles softly at the fleeting look of contentment that graces Serana's face.

"What were you like, before you were a vampire?" Destra asks after they've made camp for the evening.

"What a strange question. What were you like before you were a werewolf?" Serana returns.

"Hm. I think I ate less. And I know I smelled better." Serana laughs.

"Is that what that is? And here I thought the world just got smellier while I was asleep." Now Destra laughs.

"I guess I was the same, minus my insatiable urge to chase deer under the moonlight. It's hard to say. I changed shortly after joining the Companions, and being part of them changed me more than anything else," Destra says.

"And you met Aela," Serana smiles. Destra smiles back.

"Aela always told me that I made her a better person. Soothed the beast inside. I'm not sure I ever told her how deeply she affected me too."

"I'm sure she knew," Serana says as she places a hand on Destra's shoulder. Destra looks away, her smile widening ever so slightly. She enjoys the moment for what it is.

"But you still haven't answered my question," she says after awhile.

And so they talk long into the small hours of the morning, exchanging childhood tales and enjoying each other's company.

—

They arrive in Solitude late the next day and decide to stay in the city for the night. Serana has never seen Solitude up close, and her eyes are alight with child-like wonder as she takes in the buildings, sounds, and crowds. Several people who pass them by take a moment to acknowledge Destra. They stop at a stall that sells spiced wine. Destra greets the merchant - Evette - by name. The woman is greyed and old, maybe ten years Destra's senior.

Evette is overjoyed to see Destra and her "pretty young friend." She tells them to come visit her at sunset at the weekly Burning of King Olaf Festival, and she'll give them a couple goblets on the house. Destra thanks her, and they head toward the tailor. On their way, Destra explains that she's always helped Evette avoid the tariffs the Empire places on her spice blend. In exchange, Evette has always kept her supplied with her family's famous mull. It works to their mutual satisfaction.

Inside the tailor's, a pair of Altmer women greet them with as much enthusiasm as Serana thinks either is capable of. The older of the two tells Desta she had hoped her sense of fashion would have improved, and Destra laughs good-naturedly. The younger circles Serana like prey. She tells her she has a lovely figure, and her bodice does her justice. Serana turns as red as her condition allows. Destra interjects and tells them that they're here for a new cloak for Serana. She does not mention that it is to better protect her from the sun. By the time Serana is outfitted to the sisters' satisfaction, the sun has nearly set.

They make their way towards the Bards College where the festival will take place. The sky paints the city in an orange glow, and the torchbugs begin to dance amid the flowers. Cooking fires exalt their smoky aromas across the air. The sounds of lutes and drums grow stronger as they approach the near-ancient building. Serana is enchanted. She cannot recall a time she's ever felt so light, even with the magnitude of the quest before them. Everything is so beautiful, especially-

Destra calls her name, and Serana looks over to see the elven woman smiling gently. She beckons her toward the festival with a nod of her head, and Serana shakes herself of her trance. True to her word, Evette gifts the two with a goblet of wine each. They find seats in the back row and sip from their cups as the festival plays on before them. Destra tells Serana how she helped reinstitute the festival over two decades ago. She's glad Serana is there to see it with her. Serana feels warm, warmer than she has in centuries, and she isn't sure if it is the roaring bonfire before them, the wine, or the company.

Destra is fifty-six years old. She knows she won't live forever. But the impressions she leaves upon the world and its people just might.