A/N: Again, longer chapter.
"Welcome, initiates, to the Wayshrine of Sight. Are you prepared to honour the-" the prelate begins.
"Yes, yes. Let's get on with it," Destra interjects.
"Enter, then. May Auri-El's light guide you in your darkest hours."
—
Aela coughs into the kerchief Destra gave her. There is more blood than before, and she grimaces at it. Destra hands her a cup of water, but she simply stares at her wife. Destra sighs and pours her some mead. They both know it won't matter anyway. Aela grins, and Destra tries to smile back. She knows Aela isn't scared, and this should be comfort enough, but it isn't. Still, she tries not to show her sorrow.
"You know I love you, right?" Aela says suddenly. Destra does smile at this. She holds up her left hand.
"Got the ring to prove it if anyone says otherwise," she teases.
"Destra. I love you, and I always will. But I'll be gone soon, and you'll still be here. You deserve to be happy, and if after I'm gone-"
"No. I won't hear this. Not now."
"I may not have another chance," Aela says plainly.
"There has never been and there will never be anyone but you," Destra returns as she takes Aela's hands. Aela sighs.
"Stubborn old woman," she mutters.
"Look who's talking."
They smile at each other before Aela coughs again. Destra helps her lie down and tucks her in. With all the tenderness in Nirn, she kisses Aela on the forehead. Aela falls asleep after a minute or two, and Destra watches her sleep. She wants to make this moment last, but she feels sleep pull at her too. She settles in the chair beside their bed and closes her eyes. When she awakens, Aela is gone.
Destra stands in Ysgramor's Tomb. She wonders why the vision takes her here. She hasn't been in this place since she helped the rest of the Circle return Wuuthrad and free Kodlak's soul from the Blood. Ysgramor's statue still towers over her, his legendary axe still as threatening as ever. Destra genuflects to her forebearer. The door to the crypt opens.
As Destra walks through the halls, she remembers her first journey here. Vilkas had stayed by the statue, claiming he was unworthy to venture further. Farkas rejoined him when he realised Frostbite Spiders were in the way. Destra sniggers at this. For such a big man, he really was soft. Only Aela stayed with her the entire way. Destra thinks that it was partly for her benefit, but she also knows that Aela would not miss the opportunity to witness such glory.
Destra is still surprised that Kodlak chose her as his successor. Even after reading about his dream in his journal, she does not understand what entity would send him such a vision. Vilkas was more experienced. Farkas was stronger. Aela was more experienced, stronger, and greater than her in every other capacity. Destra may never understand the reasons, but she is glad for it. Being the Harbinger was one of the greatest honours of her life.
She misses the old days, though. The days when she was just an eager whelp sitting at the longtable with her new friends and family, laughing, fighting, living. She remembers flirting with Aela - rather awkwardly, she reminds herself - and trying anything to get her attention. She needn't have tried so hard, she smiles. Then she thinks about Serana and how she might've been the exact same way with her, were she still young.
Destra reaches the chamber that houses Ysgramor's crypt. She sees the brazier she once threw the witch's head in to cleanse Kodlak's soul. It still burns brightly with its otherworldly flame, even in this realm. Kodlak called it the Flame of the Harbinger, the earthly tendril that binds the spirits of all Harbingers, past, present, and future. Without thought, Destra passes her hand through the flame.
A tongue of fire splits off and lands on the ground in front of Destra. It swells and begins to take shape into a humanoid form. In a moment, Aela appears before her. Her body is ethereal, and she looks the age of when Destra first met her. Destra blinks, and then again more slowly. Even in her ghostly state, Aela's smugness radiates. Destra reaches for her, and to her surprise, their hands connect. Then she crushes her in her arms.
"How?" is all Destra can manage.
"This place bids welcome to the souls of all Harbingers. Although I was not one, you were, and we were bound as one," Aela says, her voice almost otherworldly as she does. Then, more naturally, "It's so good to see you."
"Aela… are you real, or are you only a part of this vision?" Destra whispers.
"What is real?" is her only answer.
"There are so many things I want to say. How much time do we have?"
"Until my master calls me back to the Grounds," Aela says, contentment painted upon her face.
"Then I will try and be brief," Destra returns.
Destra begins with her fight with Lucia and leaving the Companions. She tells Aela of the Dawnguard, of her quest to defeat Harkon and his plot to extinguish the sun. She mentions Serana, freeing her from the crypt, her place as Harkon's daughter, and how they've worked together to gather the Elder Scrolls. When she gets to the Soul Cairn, she hesitates.
"Aela, in order to get to the second scroll, I had to trade part of my soul. I will never be called to the Hunting Grounds. My soul is owed to the Ideal Masters, in the Soul Cairn," Destra explains. Aela is quiet for several moments.
"Can I join you in this Soul Cairn?" she asks.
"I would not let you, even if it were possible. It is a forsaken place."
"So we will not see each other again," Aela says. Destra nods, tears in her eyes. "Then I release you."
"What do you mean?"
"Destra, you would not let me speak to this before, but I implore you to allow me now," Aela begs with a small, sad smile. "Move on from me. From us. I know you love me and always will, but find some happiness in your twilight years."
"Aela…"
"The vampire, this Serana -"
"What of her?"
"Oh, come now, it hasn't been so long that I don't recognise that shine you get in your eyes when speak with affection," Aela smirks. "I also know that you're too loyal to ever act on it if you thought it a betrayal. But I'm dead, Destra. We can't be together again. So please, if this is something you want, don't hold back on my account. You owe me nothing more."
Another long silence stretches between them. Destra finally sighs.
"Of course I owe you more. How can I ever tell you what you have meant to me? How can I ever thank you, repay you, for all you've given me?" she says.
"By being happy," Aela returns. She kisses Destra long and hard. As they separate, Aela begins to vanish. Before she is gone, she tells Destra she loves her one last time.
In the silence and cold of the now empty chamber, Destra whispers that she loves her too. And then, as only a whisper:
"Thank you, Aela."
—
Serana is a child again. She notes once more the strange sensations of humanity and the still stranger ones of youth. She sits in front of the fire in her father's study while he writes at his desk. She thumbs through a book of riddles one of the older servants gifted her today and makes a face whenever one is complicated. Serana does not know, but Harkon smiles to himself whenever he sees. Eventually he closes his ledger and sits in the chair beside her.
"Happy birthday, my dear," he says.
"Thank you, daddy!" Serana chirps.
Harkon pats his laps, and Serana scrambles off the floor and onto it. Harkon rarely holds her so closely, and she revels in the fleeting warmth of his embrace. He pulls out a small parcel from the chest beside his chair and hands it to her. Her eyes light up, and her smile widens.
"For me?" Harkon nods, and with great restraint, Serana gingerly unwraps the package.
Inside is a small dragon statue carved out of stone. It is polished to a shine and smooth to the touch. Serana caresses it as she marvels at the details of its scales and teeth. Then she looks back up at Harkon who watches her fondly. He tells her it's modeled after a legendary dragon of old, one of the fiercest creatures to ever live. No man alive can match its strength. Serana grins and says that she's not a man, so she could defeat it. Harkon chuckles in spite of himself.
Serana thanks him about fifteen times before kissing her father on the cheek and leaping from his lap. He watches her play with the dragon for a long while. Eventually she tires out and falls asleep in front of the fire clutching the statue to her chest. Harkon carries her to her bedroom and tucks her into her covers. Before leaving the room, he places a kiss on her forehead.
Serana is an adolescent again. Her body is awkward and foreign to her. She finds that the dress her mother gifted her is too tight and too loose all at once. Even as she sits down to dinner with her parents, she can't stop fidgeting with it. Her mother tells her to sit still, and her father simply tells her that she looks lovely. Serana beams at that.
There is a tension at the table that Serana can't quite place. Her mother picks at her food but doesn't eat. Her father eats rapidly and seldomly looks up from his plate. When he does, he smiles at Serana briefly before looking back down. Serana wonders if she is in trouble. When they are all finished, Valerica clears her throat and glares at her husband. Harkon grimaces back before calling Serana's name. She looks to him immediately.
"Happy birthday, my daughter," Harkon says.
"Thank you, Father," Serana returns. She and her mother echo the same sentiments. The room falls silent again.
"Your father has a gift for you," Valerica goads. Serana looks to Harkon who once more glares at his wife. He retrieves a small object wrapped in cloth from his breast pocket and hands it to Serana. Inside is a small pendant, an eight-spoked wheel.
"I had this made for you. It represents the Wheel of Aurbis, and it is the sigil of our family. You are a young woman now, and you must represent our house. Especially when…" Harkon says.
"When it is time to find you a suitor," Valerica finishes.
Serana runs her thumb over the pendant, feeling the grooves and angles of it. Her face darkens a moment, and she mutters an "oh." She recovers quickly when she remembers her mother's scrutiny.
"Thank you, Father. Mother," she says cordially.
The remainder of dinner is no less tense than before, and Serana can't help the relief she feels when Valerica excuses herself to her garden. When Harkon is certain she is gone, he pulls a second wrapped item from his coat. Serana looks at him dubiously, and he grins conspiratorially. She opens it to find a small locket. A warrior battling a dragon is engraved on the front, and Serana genuinely smiles for the first time all evening.
"No dragon, beast or suitor, can overpower you," Harkon says. Serana hugs him.
Serana is an adult now, but still not a vampire. This state is more familiar to her, even if she still finds the addition and lack of certain sensations strange. She lays in the courtyard with a book, although she couldn't say what it is about. She watches the clouds roll over the battlements and basks in rays of sunlight that dance across her skin. The scent of lavender and red mountain flowers follows the breeze. It is a beautiful, serene day. But Serana has never felt so anxious.
She knows what tomorrow will bring. She knows what she will be asked to do, what is expected of her. She isn't certain if she has the fortitude to face it. She is certain she doesn't have a choice.
Valerica kneels in her garden nearby. Serana thinks about joining her, maybe talking to her. Sometimes her mother makes her feel better. Sometimes she makes her feel worse. Serana doesn't know what the flavour of the day is, so she stays in her spot on the rock. An hour passes, and a few of the clouds turn grey. When the rain begins to fall, Serana is ready to go inside anyway. She passes by her father's study on the way to her bedroom, and he beckons her inside.
"Happy birthday, Serana," he says.
"Thank you, my lord," she returns.
"Are you prepared for your gift tomorrow?" he asks.
"I - yes. I am certain it will be… worthwhile."
"What could be more worthwhile than bringing power and glory to your family?"
"Surely nothing," she mumbles.
"Eternal life," he reminds her as he places a hand on her shoulder.
But there is no comfort in his touch today or any other day to come.
—
When they awaken, Destra takes a deep breath and smiles. Serana quirks a brow, and the elf says she'll tell her when she's finished working it out. Serana isn't sure if that's good or bad, but Destra's smile tells her not to worry too much. Destra asks how she's feeling. Serana tells her "complicated." Destra waits for her to elaborate, but she does not. She says she also needs time to process. Destra nods and helps Serana to her feet.
They draw the water from the basin and are pleased to find it nearly filled. Destra thinks there is only one wayshrine left, and they both sigh in relief. Serana asks if Destra needs to rest and eat. She shakes her head. She wants to get the bow first. She doesn't tell Serana that she needs to talk to her when they do rest.
Destra is fifty-six years old. She knows she won't live forever. She is finally free to live her life to the fullest.
A/N: The goal of the fourth wayshrine for Serana is to establish some form of sentimentality between Serana and Harkon. Because even though Harkon is a mega dickhead, he's still her dad, and killing him has to make her feel some type of way. Even if it's justified, it requires more emotional analysis than a video game allows for. Harkon may seem OOC in this segment, and I'm okay with that. It's for relationship exploration, not canonical accuracy. Dunno if the part with the pendant is true, but I've always wondered what the little clasp on the Vampire Royal Armor was, and it was a cool fan theory I read.