Arc 2—When Darkness Falls
by VST/VStarTraverer
Arc 2 Summary: The Dragonborn had no interest in vampires. At least, he didn't until one fateful day...
Author's Note: Arc 2 is complete in Parts 5 through 14.
Disclaimer: Same as in Arc 1—Chapter 1.
Arc 2—When Darkness Falls—Chapter 1:
Winter comes to the north of Skyrim like a heavy blanket being dropped from above, covering our land with snow in what seems like just minutes. The thick mass then usually sticks around for many months until the spring thaws. The rare sunny day that melts some small part of the snow is soon made up for by days like today, when the flakes drift down from the sky in endless ranks. While many fellow Nords and some of our southern brethern are doubtless out and about in the lousy weather today, I'm sitting in my office writing the draft of a letter for my dear Idgrod.
My wife and queen gave me a list of nine items that she wants covered in the letter to the new Emperor, with me being responsible for putting her initial thoughts into a rough draft. She assured me that she would be pleased to have my assistance and would only make minor changes as needed, but I've heard that story before. In actuality, she'll shake her head as she reads my clumsy and all-too-informal attempt at expressing her thoughts, and then go back through my version with that Dwemer styllus from the matching set our friend Calcelmo gave us for our wedding. She'll dip the tip in her little pot of blood-red ink and proceed to mark up my letter until it reminds me of a snow-covered snowberry bush, with far more of the red berries showing through the snow than the dark leaves, my initial text, supporting them.
Having gifted my own styllus to our oldest son on his departure for the College of Winterhold, I draw Bloodthorn, my constant companion of many years, and sharpen the tip of my quill. I have just dipped the new point into my inkwell in order to start the last paragraph of my draft when a strange sound interrupts my thoughts.
tud boomf...
tud boomf...
tud boomf...
tud boomf...
One can only listen to a strange and irritating sound so many times before one is overcome with the urge to investigate and discover its source. I soon reach that point as I pause to listen since no words are flowing from my pen. A drop of ink pools on my quill as a a result and drops off onto my draft. With a curse, I sigh as I wipe the tip and rise from my seat. I go to the door to my office and crack it open to hear.
TUD BOOMF pah.
TUD BOOMF pah.
The sound is coming from just down the hall, down the stair.
TUD BOOMF pah.
TUD BOOMF bomp bomp.
Giggles fill the air, soon followed by the sound once more.
TUD BOOMF pah.
TUD BOOMF pah.
Using the skills I learned many years earlier, I silently slip out of my office, move the few feet down the hall to the top of the stair. Peeking over the edge, I smile as I see my little triumvarate sitting on the bottom tread before the landing where the stair turns. With their backs to me, they are bouncing the hard Khajiiti ball on the landing, off the far wall, and, when successful, back into their hands.
My youngest son, Aern, age 8-1/2, bounces the ball again and misses it on its return, leading to more giggles as his minutes-older twin sister, Aerica, more deftly recovers it. She hands it over to their older nephew, Andres, now almost 9-1/2, who bounces the ball off the floor, against the wall, and then back into his hands.
Needing to finish the draft by Idgrod's deadline, I shake my head with a smile and slip back into my office, closing the door without a peep. The draft is completed in a matter of minutes, but all the while the irrascible sound of that ball continues to grate on my nerves.
tud boomf...
A pause and what might be more giggling...
tud boomf...
I realize there's one other point that should be made, so I add another paragraph for my wife's consideration. By the time I finish, the sound is driving me crazy. One or two rounds is understandable, twenty is tiresome, but the number that they have just reached, whatever it is, is mindnumbing.
With my quill pen cleaned once more and back in its holder, I open the door and step out into the hall, this time not trying to maintain silence. The sound immediately changes from that of a seemingly eternally bouncing ball to three young children charging up the stairs into my arms.
"Daddy!" shout the twins, almost in unison.
"Grandpa!"
"So what are you three doing up here?"
"Mommy wouldn't let us go outside because of the snow."
"Now you see why your mommy was elected High Queen. She's a very smart woman."
"Oh, Daddy!"
"Mama wouldn't let me go out either, Grandpa."
"Well, Andres, that just shows that your mama is pretty smart, too, just like your grandma."
"Grandpa, they told us not to bother you, but we're bored. Can you tell us a story? Please!"
"Yeah, Daddy, please!" add the twins.
"Andres, why don't you read the twins the story I gave you?"
"I...I don't have it, Grandpa. Mama took it away."
I'm surprised at that. Lucia had been quite happy when I gave it to him, and I've seen her read it with him several times. I think it's brought tears to her eyes each time. "Why did your mama take it, Andres?"
"I don't know. Well, yeah...she said we were getting it dirty and she was afraid we'd ruin it. She said she'd give it back, but it's been a long time. Can you tell us another story? A different story?"
"Okay, I guess. Do you want to hear about Alduin the World Eater?"
All three children groan. "Not that one again! Everyone knows that one! Tell us a new story! One we haven't heard before! Please."
I think about it for a moment and then nod. "Okay. Hold on right here. I'll be back in a second."
I step back in my little office and pull a document out of the drawer. Moments later, I'm sitting back down on the steps. "I've been working on this one so I could share it with you at the Moon Festival, but it's done and this is as good a time as any. It is kind of scary, though.. Andres, in fact, it's probably still too scary for your little sister, but since she's not here...well, all of you are old enough now to hear it. So, have you guys ever noticed that Aunt Serana has red eyes? Have you ever wondered about that?"
The twins look down, but Aerica looks back up at me, biting her lower lip, as if worried about saying something bad. She whispers, "Kristov says she's a vampire. A good one. Everybody knows there aren't any good vampires."
Leave it to my third son to ruin a good surprise; hopefully he or his big brothers won't have spoiled the rest of it for their younger siblings and nephew. I pick up my baby girl and then put her on one leg while pulling the boys closer.
"Actually guys, Kristov is right. Aunt Serana is a vampire and she is a good one. But once upon a time, she almost wasn't. Once upon a time, her father tried to force her to do something really bad."
After I adopted Lucia, the next few weeks were spent getting to know my new daughter. We spent our days reading, playing, and learning, and, with the threat of Alduin gone, being happy together. Lydia, in a surprisingly happy mood, was often with us, too, which further brightened our outlook.
About three weeks after the adoption, I surprised my girl one morning when she came to sit down at our little table holding her doll tight to her chest. "Lucia, it looks to me like your doll's dress is pretty dirty."
Tears filled her eyes. "I'm sorry, Papa. It's not a very good dress but I didn't mean to get it dirty. I'll try really hard to clean it."
"Dear, are you okay? I'm not mad at you, you know."
"Really? You're not?"
"No, Lucia. I'm not mad, not at all. Actually, I had an idea. What if we were to pack a bag and take your doll on a little trip to get her some new clothes."
Her face clouded. "New clothes for Jilly?"
"Yeah, I think so. I think I remember seeing a clothing shop in Solitude where they might have some. And we might get some new clothes for you, too, while we're there."
Her face brightened as she realized what I was suggesting, and she gave me a big hug. "Papa! Really? Solitude?"
"Solitude. We'd better hurry, though, if we're going to be able to hire a cart to get there by nightfall. How quickly can you pack a few things?"
~ESV~
Our cart driver made decent time but the roads were quite rough and we arrived in Solitude a couple hours after sunset. I wasn't comfortable with the lantern the driver had hung off the horses' harness, and they weren't either, but it worked well enough and we were lucky not to be surprised by anything coming at us from the side of the road.
When we got to the inn, we rented a room with twin beds for Lucia and me and another with a big bed for Lydia, who had seemed happy to come along and happier still to be able to sleep in such luxury.
The next morning after a leisurely breakfast, our first stop was the local clothing shop where I surprised them by outfitting both of my ladies in new dresses. Lucia was excited, since we started the process to buy several for her, but Lydia was very dubious when I insisted that we get her one, too.
The owner, who doubled as her own seamstress, was marking Lucia's third dress for tailoring when Lydia stepped out from behind the screen, holding closed the dress (which I'd suggested) with her hands. Whispering to avoid attracting Lucia's attention, she said, "Thane, you're just trying to get a peek at me in the tightest, most ill-fitting dress in the whole damn shop. Maybe in all of Skyrim. The laces are down at the bottom and don't come nearly high enough. Gods! They don't hold anything in at all. Pervert!" She was struggling to hold the top part closed so her breasts didn't fall out the gap in front.
I remember having to control myself to keep from dying of laughter—or leering—as I watched her wiggle, trying to fit her muscular frame and her lovely breasts into the dress that looked like it might actually be a bit too small. "Lydia, I'm sorry. I didn't know the size, but if you recall, I have seen you in less."
"Thane, that was work! This is...well, it's sick. I'm taking it back off."
She moved toward the screen, but I stopped her.
"Lydia, take it off and put the shirt on. You forgot that part." Remembering the dress basic style from my encounters with Dre, I continued, "Then, turn the dress around and put it back on. The lacing on this one goes in the back. I'll tie it up for you when you come out."
The kids don't seem to catch my pause or my smile as I remember that part of our shopping expedition and the most embarrassed look I ever saw on Lydia's face. The kids also don't get to hear that part as I continue. I'd been careful in my writing to tone down some of the details and most of the more colorful language for them.
It took some effort but we settled on several dresses for Lucia, a couple of winter play outfits for her, and, with slowly decreasing resistance, two very nice dresses for Lydia. They were all marked for the needed alterations when we prepared to leave. The shop owner even agreed to make a couple of little dresses for Jilly, though I think she charged me almost as much for them as for one of Lucia's.
We spent a week in Solitude before gathering up all of our purchases and hiring a cart to head home, but I had an idea I'd been considering all week. We took the long route with a little detour to Morthal, where I planned to spend one evening at the inn. We arrived late that afternoon, so I stopped by the jarl's hall to look in on the young lady I'd met a couple of months before. I'd swapped a couple of letters with her since that time, so I was hoping that she still remembered me and hadn't confused the letter writer with some other potentially amorous suitor.
"She's not here," said the guard.
"What do you mean? Not here in the hall or not in Morthal?" I could see arriving, unannounced, while she was traveling elsewhere.
The guard smirked at me, making me remember that he was one of the guards I'd taunted following my date with Idgrod.
"Gods only know. And have a perfectly crappy rest of your day."
The guard definitely remembered me, even if it had taken me a bit of time to remember him. Knowing that I probably deserved that from how I'd treated him and his fellow guard last time, I backed away and headed toward the inn but, just down the street, was surprised when the door of the local apothecary shop opened and Idgrod stepped out almost into my arms."
"Aerik! When did you arrive? And why didn't someone come to let me know?"
My heart raced since, no matter what happened next, she was here, and, even more important, she had remembered me. "Ahem, we just got here a little while ago and the guards at the hall told me you were down this way, so I decided to surprise you."
"I will be sure to thank them for this wonderful surprise. Wait, you said 'we.' Lydia, your housecarl, is with you?"
I was pretty surprised that she seemed genuinely excited to see me and even more shocked that she remembered Lydia's name. "Yes, Lydia's here, and so is Lucia, my daughter."
"Wait—you have a daughter? I'm sorry, I didn't know you were married." Her whole countenance changed in an instant.
I've been told by a number of people, both men and women, that I'm as blind as a Falmer when it comes to romance. This time, however, blind as I was, even I understood.
"Idgrod, I'm not married and never have been. Lucia was orphaned and had nowhere to go, so I adopted her recently."
"Really?"
I nodded. "I'd love for you to join us for dinner so you can meet her."
~ESV~
We dined at the inn, asking for a table in the corner where we could have a nice, quiet conversation and get to know each other.
As small as Morthal was, that seemed like a good plan, but it turned out that almost everyone in town who wasn't at Highmoon Hall gathered at the inn in the evening for dinner, drinks, games, or some combination thereof, and a generally raucous time. We had our table in the corner, true, but quiet was not part of the picture. We had to speak up to be heard, but we had a good time before I sent Lucia to bed with Lydia going with her to keep watch over her.
Idgrod and I had a lovely walk around Morthal, getting to know each other better, but my hand shot to my blade when a strange man stepped out of the shadows in front of us. Thinking we might be under attack, I moved Idgrod behind me and had my blade half way out of its sheath when she said, "Wait! Aerik, it's okay. I know him; he's been here in town for a while."
In the moonlight, I saw that he was an Orc rather than a human and that he had no weapon drawn. Still apprehensive, I reseated my blade, but was prepared to respond to any threatening moves at a moment's notice.
"You play a dangerous game when you surprise someone like that, friend."
"Sorry, Dragonborn, but I've been wanting to talk to you. You really are the Dragonborn, correct?"
"Yea-ah. Who are you? And what do you want to talk about? And why do you want to do it when I'm walking with the lady?"
Despite my rapid-fire questions, he was quite calm. "My name is Durak, and there is no time like the present, Dragonborn, when pressing business awaits."
"What business do you mean?"
"Evil things are afoot in Skyrim, and soon throughout all of Tamriel and beyond. Only the Dawnguard can prevent this, and only if we have members like you who can help us stop it."
"Dawnguard? What's that? Another bloody faction? That's all we need in the middle of this stupid war."
"No, the Dawnguard has nothing to do with war other than wanting to keep people—all people: Humans, Elves, Khajiit, Argonians, and Orcs—safe. The time is coming when none will be, though, when the vampires rule the night. We know you killed a powerful one here a while back, so we need you, Dragonborn, to help us prevent that."
"Vampires? More vampires? You've got to be kidding me. Goodnight, Mister Orc, and don't let the boogey-man bite. Don't bother me again, either." Not even bothering to decline his invitation, I was laughing as I led Idgrod away.
Sweet Igrod, however, didn't seem to see it so humorously. She was silent as I walked her home, looking apprehensive or even fearful, though I didn't think to question at the time whether it was of the supposed vampires or of me. She was so preoccupied with whatever was bothering her that she mumbled goodnight as she entered Highmoon Hall, not even giving me a chance to kiss her hand, much less her cheek.
~ESV~
Realizing too late that I'd probably gone overboard with my derision of the Orc, I spent a restless and largely sleepless night in the bed in the inn. Therefore, I stopped at Highmoon Hall the next morning to apologize to her and tell her goodbye as we were on our way out of Morthal. I was surprised when I was met by Aslfur, who Idgrod had told me was not only her mother's steward but also the jarl's husband and her own father.
"Good morning, Sir."
"Not really, I'm afraid. I must speak with you, Dragonborn."
"What about, Sir?"
"You've been spending time with my daughter, and not just my daughter, but the jarl's daughter. That must stop, and stop now. Young Idgrod will not be seeing you again. You're to leave and not come back, understand?"
"No, I'm sorry, I don't. What do you mean?"
"Alright, you leave me no choice. I'll spell it out for you. You're the Dragonborn, true, but you're also an uncouth, landless commoner. I know, you have a shack in Whiterun, but you don't own property, boy, real property, and you aren't in the same class as my girl. She will be jarl of Morthal some day, and she does not need you as a distraction since you will not be at her side, now or ever. Leave Morthal, and don't return. Ever. If you set foot in town again, the guards will deal with you. Unkindly, I'm afraid."
"Is that Idgrod's—young Idgrod's—wish?"
"It wouldn't matter if it wasn't, boy, but in this case, it is, and the jarl's wish as well. Our daughter has realized it is what is best for her and for Morthal. She said for me to tell you she never wants to see you again. Now, go, and never return."
Not wishing to get into a fight with her father and the guards that had gathered around, I backed away, heartbroken. Turning, I walked out of Morthal and out of Idgrod's life.
~ESV~
Author's Note:
Thanks to everyone reading this story as I continue it with Arc 2. Thanks to all who have commented, followed, or favorited it, too.
Thanks also go to the late Steve McQueen, the Cooler King, from the 1963 movie masterpiece, "The Great Escape," who helped inspire the scene with the bouncing ball.