A/N: ***Please take the time to read this note, even if you don't read any other.*** I took some huge liberties with the wayshrines in this story. Since the Dragonborn and Serana aren't initiates, just laypeople, I like to think that instead of a religious meditation, they have more of a psychological cleansing. This segment is honestly the one I've most been looking forward to because I get to explore the traumas of Destra and Serana. Fair warning, this first chapter is a little intense and graphic, especially for Serana, as it deals with sexual assault. I will provide a non-graphic summary at the end of the chapter if it gets to be too much for anyone.
Also, I've rearranged the order in which the wayshrines are encountered in-game for my own purposes. Not including enemies because they aren't the antagonist of this segment.
"What do you think Gelebor meant by all of that 'vision' stuff with the wayshrines?" Serana asks as they make their way through the passage.
"I'm not certain. I suppose we'll find out," Destra says. "If it's bad, only one of us needs to fill the ewer. Whatever it is, I can handle it." Serana does not protest aloud, but Destra hears it anyway.
The passage begins to narrow, and they can see the first of the proper wayshrines. A ghostly figure stands beside it. As they approach, the figure greets them.
"Welcome, initiates. This is the Wayshrine of Learning. Are you prepared to embrace the mantras of Auri-El and cleanse your minds of doubt?" the prelate says. Destra looks to Serana. The vampire shrugs back.
"We are," Destra answers. The entrance to the wayshrine begins to glow.
"Enter, then. May Auri-El's warmth imbue your body with strength."
—
Destra steps through the aura, and Serana follows. Her vision is engulfed in light, and when she reaches for Serana, there is nothing but air. The light fades, and Destra is in the Underforge at Jorvaskr. She sees Skjor and Aela. Aela transforms before her, bones cracking as they elongate. She howls as the transformation completes, and Destra knows from experience it is as much from pain as it is bestial vigor.
Destra moves to comfort her, but she finds that she is not in control of her own body. She feels her temperature rise, and every muscle is restless. She knows this feeling. Her breathing is rapid, and her heart begins to hammer against her rib cage. She thinks it might explode, but her ribs break instead. The pain is blinding. She just begins to relax as they mend to accommodate her larger organs when her shoulders and hips dislocate.
Every joint in her body dislocates, and Destra is certain she will die. Her muscles tear and stretch, her bones break and lengthen. The entire process seems to last hours, and Destra can bear it no longer.
Aela and Skjor stand over her in bestial form. Destra tries to reach for Aela, but she is unable to move her broken body. They snarl and laugh at her. An unearthly voice hisses in her ear.
"You are weak. Too weak for this gift. Come, my pets. Tear Hircine's Blessing from her soul."
Aela and Skjor leap upon her. With claws and teeth, they rip open her abdomen and chest. She watches and feels as her heart is torn from her body. Skjor and Aela fight over who will consume it. The last thing Destra sees before the life leaves her is Aela, her wife, devouring her heart.
—
Serana feels cold and hungry. Immediately she knows this is not right. Serana has not felt human needs in centuries. She looks down at her hands to find that they possess a fleshly colour she knows they should not. She gazes at her reflection in her bedroom mirror and sees green eyes staring back. Serana is not a vampire.
Her parents call for her. She finds them standing in front of a portal. They, too, are human. Harkon beckons her closer, and against her will, she obeys. Serana does not want this. She knows this memory. She refuses to endure this again. But her body is not hers to command in this place, and she feels herself pass through the portal with her parents.
This realm is wrong. The ground is a thick muck that threatens to swallow any who steps foot upon it. The air is colder than any tundra in Nirn, so freezing that Serana thinks her blood might solidify in her veins. The sky is nothing but purple and blue flames that seem to lower the temperature instead of raising it. This place is Coldharbour.
"My lord, Molag Bal," Harkon entones. "Hear your loyal servants."
Serana shakes where she stands, and it is not just from the cold. She knows what is coming. A massive being emerges from the ground itself. Its skin is like that of a draugr, yet taught muscles bulge just beneath its surface. Claws accent each long finger and toe. Its head splays two horns from either cheekbone. The multiple rows of teeth are jagged and razor sharp. But the most horrible feature of all are the eyes. Two glowing blue balls burn in otherwise empty eye sockets.
This creature is Molag Bal, Master of Coldharbour, Prince of Domination and Enslavement, King of Rape.
"What is your tribute, Harkon?" the daedric prince booms.
No, not again. Serana will not do this again. But like the first time, it is not her choice. Harkon grabs her and Valerica by the arms and thrusts them forward. Molag Bal hums as he appraises them, a sound akin to a thousand shrieking daemons. Finally he nods.
"And what would you ask of me?" the prince hisses.
"Power, my lord. Everlasting life," Harkon answers.
"I shall grant you what you seek. Provided your tribute can endure."
Valerica turns to her daughter and whispers for her to be strong. And then the prince is upon Serana. The first thing she notices is the intense cold of her now bared body, of his skin and breath. Then there is the sting of his talons as he grips her flesh. She cries for her parents. Begs them to help her, save her this. They do nothing, and Molag Bal laughs. He enters her, and the pain is unlike anything Serana has ever felt or will again. Every movement feels as though her life is a moment shorter. This goes on for hours. When the prince is done, Serana feels her heart stop, and she is certain she is dead.
Unfortunately, she is not. Not in the way she wishes.
—
They awaken on the floor of the wayshrine, both gasping for air. Destra shoots up, searching for Serana. When she sees her, she rushes to her, and Serana does the same. They cling to each other as though they will die without the other's security. Serana shakes in Destra's arms as she tells her what she saw. The elven woman holds her friend tightly, and her heart breaks with every word. Destra's voice falters as she tells Serana of her own vision. And then they both weep - for themselves, but most of all for each other.
The wayshrine opens, and the prelate appears. He tells them this trial is over and that Auri-El grants them his favour, that they are stronger for the hardships they have endured. When they are both calmer, Destra fills the ewer with the water that appears in the basin. With great reluctance, they make their way to the next wayshrine.
"I had no idea that's what Gelebor meant," Serana says while they walk through the next caveway. Destra stops.
"I'm not sure he knew that's what he meant," she returns. "I'm so sorry, Serana. At the next shrine, wait outside while I deal with whatever is in there. You shouldn't have had to relive that." Destra whispers the last, a frown etched across her face.
"It's… I can deal with it. I've dealt with it for centuries. I should be able to handle it better by now."
"Serana, that's not something you just get over. It doesn't matter how long it's been," Destra says and takes her hands. "It's okay to not be okay." Serana is quiet for a long while.
"I… thank you. No one's ever said that to me before," she says at last. "I guess I never really dealt with it. I don't know how to."
"Talk to me. Let yourself be open to whatever emotion comes, and don't just push it down. I want to know how you're feeling when you're feeling it. I don't care if you need to cry for hours and just want me to sit next to you. You don't have to hide anything. It won't make it go away, but it might help." Serana searches Destra's eyes. She finds nothing but sincerity. She pulls the other woman to her and thanks her again.
"But what about you? Was any of that real?" Serana says when they break apart.
"It's like that every time, actually," Destra answers. "Transforming, I mean. The pain was a real memory. Being a wolf is exhilarating. The power is more than most can imagine, but getting there is agony. It's why some never revert back and go feral. All power, no pain. But the longer you stay a beast, the less of you there is."
"Why - why do you want that to be a part of you? You've never struck me as the power-hungry type. I know Aela turned you, but still," Serana says carefully.
"I'm not really sure anymore," Destra admits quietly. Serana smiles at her sympathetically.
Destra is fifty-six years old. She knows she won't live forever. She is not certain she is strong enough to face anymore of these visions, even to save Tamriel. But she would face a thousand more if it meant Serana did not face even one.
A/N: In this wayshrine, Destra has a vision of the first time she is transformed into a werewolf. The vision is exaggerated and not true to what happened, as it delves into the fears she has surrounding her lycanthropy at this stage in her life, as well as the hold Aela still has on her.
Serana's vision is of her transformation as a vampire. It details her visit to Coldharbour, her dealing with Molag Bal, and the trauma of her parents not saving her from the ritual.