Chapter 6: Frustrated in Whiterun

Blood trickling into her mouth brought Serana back to life. Undeath, even. Incomparably rich and powerful blood. Dragon blood. Sithia's blood, bringing with it the heat of that ever present anger, and the bittersweet tang of worry and a sharp tingle of frustration.

Serana cracked her eyes open. She was lying flat on her back on the bed. That was so sweet… Sithia cared enough to get her more comfortable.

Sithia sat beside her, perched on the edge of the bed, wrist held to Serana's mouth. Serana looked to the bedside table and saw the bloodied Ebony dagger set down. Sithia had cut herself to nurse her vampire back to health. Not many mortals would do that for a vampire, not without being enthralled.

Serana fought against the impulse to close her lips around the wound and actively feed. The warning ache in her veins at the thought made it easier, a reminder of her blood oath. Sithia hadn't given her permission, only allowing her blood to drip into Serana's mouth.

"Stupid vampire," Sithia muttered. She held Serana's hand, eyes fixed on her palm. "I don't need to ask what you did. To get burned like that… Been groping a shrine of Akatosh, have we?"

Sithia pulled her wrist away. Serana swallowed the last of the blood and watched sadly, craving more, as her mortal healed the self-inflicted cut.

The golden light faded away. Sithia turned back to frown down at her. "What I don't understand is why the fuck you'd do that after what you said about temples and shrines. Do you have a thing for pain?"

"No, I don't." Serana inspected her hand, marvelling at the unmarked skin. Sithia's blood was something else indeed. She'd been expecting to bear that scar for the rest of her days – potentially all eternity. "I had to touch the shrine to get rid of the Scroll's aura."

Sithia shook her head and raised her eyes to the ceiling. She sighed before returning her gaze to Serana. "Yeah, I gathered that much from what you said before you collapsed on top of me. I still don't understand why you had to do it."

"So mages don't feel me coming from a mile away. That could have got us both killed, especially with my father hunting us. You're welcome."

"Stupid vampire," Sithia breathed. "You do realise that it's only in close proximity that aura can be felt in? By the time any mages feel it they'd already have seen you."

Serana's fangs pricked her lips. Yes, she'd been stupid, but being looked down on like that by a mortal was maddening. Though a very special mortal, Sithia was still a merest fraction of her age.

"It was worth it," Serana snapped. "I didn't do it just for our safety, I did it for myself too. I can resort to that monstrous form like my father, but I prefer to just disappear if I can." Restored to health, it was easy to call upon the power in her blood and let the shadows hide her.

"That is a neat trick." Sithia reached out to touch what she could no longer see.

Well, that was forward of her Dragonborn. Unintentionally so, but that would only make this so much more fun… "You might want to move your hand."

"It's so weird to hear your voice when I can't see you. At least I can feel you. Why do I want to move it? This feels like leather, not your skin." She shifted her fingers, no doubt trying to figure out what part of Serana she was touching.

"Let me put it this way, if not for my cuirass you'd be groping me."

Sithia's eyes widened. She snatched her hand away as if it'd been burned. "Sorry!"

Serana laughed, enjoying the flush spreading across Sithia's cheeks. "I really don't mind." She contemplated removing her cuirass and guiding Sithia's hand back to explore properly, but that might be considered to be playing with her food. Besides, it'd be more fun for both of them if she were visible. Seducing her Dragonborn was really not something she should be doing when dividing her attention with maintaining invisibility.

She released her mental grip on the shadows and sat up. That brought her very close to Sithia. Close enough that she need only turn her head to kiss her. Before she could do more than brush their noses together Sithia jerked back, blushing harder than ever.

Her skittish Dragonborn fell off the bed, jumped to her feet and paused only long enough to grab her dagger. "I need my sleep even if you don't. See you in the morning." She fled, wrenching the door open. It banged shut behind her.

'Damn it.' Serana flopped back on the bed and glared up at the ceiling. At this rate she wouldn't manage to seduce her way to a proper feed before they reached Riften. Then again, maybe she'd have better luck on the road.

She rolled over, reaching for the pack to dig out Sithia's map. Their route was still marked on it, so she traced that line with a finger, from Solitude all the way to Riften and beyond. To her disappointment, while she could smell Sithia's blood, it didn't come off on her finger. It was tempting to try to lick it off directly, but she wasn't that desperate. Not yet, anyway.

She wasn't sure how long it would take them to walk to Riften, but they'd be on the road for quite some time. If they walked as fast as they rowed, Whiterun was at least a week's journey away including rest stops, maybe even two in bad weather. Their route definitely went into the city and back out again. If she didn't manage to persuade Sithia to let her have a nibble before they got there, she'd be losing her touch.

One way or another, she'd at least be well on her way to seducing herself a willing meal by the time they reached the next Hold capital.

As it turned out, they didn't walk to Whiterun. Sithia hired a carriage instead. That made it pretty much impossible to get closer to her Dragonborn, especially as the carriage driver never seemed to stop singing or humming Ragnar the Red. Not even in his sleep whenever they stopped to camp overnight. It was getting increasingly tempting to rip his head off like Matilda had cut off Ragnar's.

The two inns they passed along the way didn't have any free rooms, so they had to stay outside under canvas. Well, Sithia and their driver did. Serana didn't sleep, gazing up at the moons and stars, and at the breathtaking sight of the aurora sometimes dancing overhead. She kept an ear out for any trouble too, but there weren't even any bandits blundering around, let alone her father's underlings. Only goats and the distant trumpeting of mammoths.

The second inn at least had good food, which meant that the farmer Serana fed from tasted better than he had any right to. Still not a patch of Sithia, of course, but his blood had a certain tingle to it. Daedric, actually, which would explain the inexplicably fertile land around Rorikstead. The contrast between it and the inhospitable tundra of Whiterun Hold was striking, especially at the steady trot of the horse pulling the carriage.

Mountains loomed ever larger on the horizon, the Throat of the World most of all. The highest peak in Tamriel. This was the closest Serana had ever been to it. She hadn't even been able to see it from the far north of Skyrim.

"One day I'd love to make the pilgrimage up the Seven Thousand Steps. To see High Hrothgar, maybe even get to meet the Greybeards… and the view out across Tamriel." She'd have to wait until night to enjoy that, as sunlight would leave her struggling to see at all.

Sithia grunted from her seat across from her in the back of the carriage. "The view is something, I'll give it that much. But climbing up all of those steps? It's not worth it. Especially not having to do it twice. High Hrothgar is nothing special either. As for the Greybeards… They would like me spend the rest of my days meditating with them. The Way of the Voice is not for me. Far too boring. At least they don't try to order me around, unlike someone else I can think of."

"Whoa there!" The carriage driver reined his horse in so he could safely turn to look, gaping at Sithia. "…You've been up there? Met the Greybeards? What, are you the Dragonborn or something?"

"There's an extra fifty gold in it for you if you don't say another word."

"You are, aren't you? Can you show me—"

Sithia lunged and slapped her hand across the driver's mouth. His cry of pain was muffled. "I Shout and it'll spook the horse. Now, you're going to drive on to Whiterun. You're also going to be quiet, or I'll forget about not scaring the poor horse and demonstrate a Shout on you."

She released the driver. He cringed away from her and shook the reins to send the horse trotting along the road again.

Serana sighed happily. "That's my grumpy Dragonborn," she murmured.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." Serana kept a straight face, only allowing a smile to tug at her lips when Sithia looked away to glower up at the Throat of the World. Tempting as it was to repeat herself so mortal ears could hear what she'd said, she suspected Sithia wouldn't appreciate the implication that she belonged to Serana. Certainly not where anyone else could overhear. Maybe she'd risk it in private…

Whiterun was visible from far off across the wide open plains of the tundra. Built sloping up a hill, with the Jarl's palace perched on top, the city was within sight for the last two days. They arrived at the stables at dusk and made their way up the winding road through the outer walls.

"It's been too quiet."

"No attacks, you mean?"

Sithia nodded. "It feels like the calm before a storm."

That was troubling Serana too. Unless her father had surrounded himself with incompetent sycophants, their pursuers couldn't be too far behind. "Our vampire friends will catch up eventually. We need to be most careful in the wild, it's why I didn't sleep at all on the way here. They won't attack settlements, not in force. They wouldn't want to frighten the herd too much."

They arrived at the main gates just in time to see them slam shut with the distinctive thud of the bar dropping behind them.

Two guards approached bearing flaming torches.

"Halt! City's closed for the night. Vampire attacks won't be happening on my watch."

Serana kept her distance. If she got too close, the guards might notice her glowing eyes and deathly pallor. She readied her illusion magic just in case she had to persuade them that she was not a threat.

"Not again…" Sithia groaned. She pulled down her mask and stormed up to the guard. "You know me. Open the gates."

"You might be an imposter, one of those damn mages using a spell to look like the Jarl's Thane."

Serana blinked and almost lost her grasp on her spell. Damn mages? Since when did Nords not respect magic? Back when she studied in Winterhold, mages were revered. Was this why the ferryman insisted on no magic in his boat?

"And my armour?"

"Stolen it. Or that's a spell too."

Sithia exchanged an exasperated glance with Serana. "Shall we skip straight to the part where you want to see a Shout?"

The guard nodded eagerly. "Well, go on. It's the only way we can be sure you're who you claim to be."

"Fuck you. FEIM!"

Sithia went decidedly ghostly, and proceeded to walk through both the guard and the gates.

The guard squealed and jumped into the arms of his stunned comrade. "She—She Shouted herself into a ghost! You can get her to Shout next time, I'm never doing that again. Never!"

The gates shuddered as the bar lifted and they were pushed open by a reassuringly solid and human Sithia, her mask pulled back up again.

Serana hurried past the guards while they were too distracted to take a closer look at her. It'd take her quite a while to gather her wits for mind tricks after a surprise like that. Destruction or conjuration she could do in her sleep. Not so with illusion.

She paused just inside the gates. Whiterun was the most open city she had ever seen, lots of space between the buildings winding up towards the Jarl's palace.

Sithia tapped her on the shoulder, leaning close to mutter, "What was that you said about vampire attacks on settlements drawing too much attention?"

"It'll still only be a couple of vampires at a time. They wouldn't risk attacking in numbers great enough to be a real threat." Serana stopped and stared at her Dragonborn. "Sithia…"

"What?"

"You're kind of paler than a human should be." Serana reached over to touch what little of her forehead was visible. "You're cold. Not as cold as me, but too cold for a live one."

"Don't worry, I'm fine. It's that Shout. I actually touch the Void when I use it, and the chill takes a while to wear off. Give me another minute and I'll be back to normal."

"What does it feel like? To touch the Void, I mean."

"About how you'd expect. Cold, and empty. I feel nothing while I'm Ethereal. I don't like it one bit, but it works well for freaking guards out. It also made it a lot quicker for me to get down from High Hrothgar the second time."

Sithia turned away and walked on, towards the second building on the right. A modest sized house. She stopped outside it and looked back. "Something wrong?"

Serana shook her head and closed the distance between them. "Oh, nothing much. Just you implying that you fell down the highest mountain in Tamriel."

"Jumped, actually. Nothing can hurt me while I'm Ethereal like that. Perfect for surviving long drops."

"You're unbelievable."

Sithia bowed, and gestured towards the house beside them. "Welcome to my humble home. Best perk of being a Thane. Go on inside and make yourself comfortable."

"I remember you mentioning the house to that blacksmith in Dawnstar. But wouldn't a real perk be a room up in that palace?"

"Dragonsreach? I had an invitation for that, but turned it down."

"Too grand?"

"That and I didn't fancy the Jarl enough to take him up on the offer of sharing his bed. Sorry, Princess, you're stuck with me and Breezehome."

"Don't call me that! And I'm fine with your home. It's charming, really. Cosy."

"Certainly a change from your castle back home. I'll be back in a few minutes after I buy a few supplies from the market. Bread, salted meat, dried fruit, carrots – I'm running low on all of them."

Serana watched Sithia walk away, then opened the door and stepped inside, turning to push the door shut behind her. She froze, hand on the door. She wasn't alone. She could hear the heartbeats of two mortals close by, and hear their breathing. The closer heart was smaller and beat faster. It was also fast approaching, bare feet slapping on the flagstones.

Serana spun to face the intruders in Sithia's home, hand on the hilt of her dagger.

A small girl tackled her, hugging her legs.

"Mama! You're home!"

By the blood, Sithia was a mother?

"Who are you?"

Serana looked up. The stern demand came from a young Nord woman, as dark haired as Serana herself. A woman clad in steel armour, a gold ring on her forefinger catching the firelight. A married woman in Sithia's home, not an intruder.

Sithia, married…

Serana clamped her mouth shut as her fangs made themselves known in a hot flash of furious jealousy – why hadn't Sithia told her? She'd never have flirted with a married woman. She was better than that.

The girl realised something was wrong and looked up. "Oh! Sorry! I thought…"

"Lucia, get behind me." The woman drew her sword. "Whoever you are, I warn you, I'll defend this home with my life."

The door opened again before Serana could do more than glare at her rival.

"Market's closed already, I'll have to—"

"Mama! You're home!" The girl – Lucia – released Serana and pounced on her mother. Except…

Sithia's heart skipped a beat and she fell back against the door as it swung shut, eyes wide with… Was that really terror? The mighty Dragonborn, scared of a little girl? Sithia recovered quickly as Lucia started giggling.

"The look on her face, did you see it, Mama?" She bounced over to her mother.

"Yes, I saw, now get behind me." The other woman looked to Sithia, sword pointing at Serana. "Do you—"

"Lydia!" Sithia tore her cowl off, face contorted in fury. "She's with me. And when I said this house was yours as much as mine, I did not mean for you to take in every little lost soul!"

Serana looked between them. What was going on here?

"I'm sorry, my Thane. She needed a parent and a home, though, and no one else seemed to even see her."

'Oh.' The last of her jealousy drained away. 'A housecarl. Of course…'

"Fine, but you're responsible for her! That includes her sick jokes."

"Sorry, my Thane." The housecarl and her adopted daughter chorused, and both hung their heads. The smiles on their faces rather detracted from the show of shame.

Sithia gave them a filthy look and stormed past, heading for a door almost hidden behind the stairs.

"Oh dear," Lydia murmured. "My Thane, there's something else I have—"

Sithia threw the door open and stopped in her tracks. "What have you done to my alchemy station, you stupid Nord?!"

Lydia cringed. "You never used it!"

"Why would I bother to have one set up if I wasn't ever going to use it? And… Where in the name of every Daedra are my ingredients? You didn't…" Sithia fell against doorframe and groaned.

"They were spoiled, I could tell by the stench. And they scared Lucia."

"Daedra hearts are meant to stink, you fucking idiot!" Sithia grabbed hold of two handfuls of her hair and let out a strangled scream.

Lydia clapped her hands over Lucia's ears. "Language, my Thane!"

"Void take you. Get out of my sight and take the girl with you. Come back tomorrow, I'll be on my way then."

"I… Yes, my Thane. I'm sorry. Come on, Lucia, let's go on a quest to see if Hulda has a room to spare. A night in the Bannered Mare, that'll be fun!"

Despite her mother's efforts to make their exile sound like an adventure, Lucia burst into tears. Sithia grimaced but didn't relent. She did at least get the girl's dolly from the former alchemy annex and tossed it to her, so she wasn't completely heartless.

Serana watched the door close after them, the girl's sniffling fading away. "Wasn't that a little harsh? You did tell Lydia it was her home too, after all."

"Don't start." Sithia stalked over to the hearth and tugged her gauntlets off to warm her hands over the fire. "I haven't thrown them out onto the street, and I'm the one ultimately paying for the brat to stay here anyway. Who do you think pays Lydia's allowance? She's the reason why I have to get all the loot I can carry wherever I go. That's why I try not to become thane of any more Holds, because I can barely afford one housecarl, let alone nine of the leeches. With any luck Skald will have forgotten about giving me one. If I'd had a choice, I wouldn't be a thane at all."

"How did you become one?"

"Pretty much the same as with Dawnstar. I made the mistake of killing my first dragon not far from here. Jarl Balgruuf wanted to reward me for saving his city, but I reckon he really wanted to brag about having the Dragonborn as his Thane. He certainly didn't mention the honour until after he heard from his damn bodyguard about my absorbing its soul. I suspect it's why he propositioned me too, so he could boast that he'd fucked the Dragonborn."

Serana didn't doubt that was the Jarl's ulterior motive there, but there was also the fact that Sithia was quite the conquest anyway, with her physical charms alone.

"At least I got a free house out of it even if I've probably paid more than its value for the dubious pleasure of having a housecarl sit around all day eating bread. And for her to adopt the local street urchin and rip out my alchemy station and throw out all of my ingredients including five Daedra hearts, because I always wanted a child's bedroom instead, apparently."

"I didn't know you were an alchemist. What other hidden talents do you have?"

"It's part of the talents you already know about, actually. I'm good at killing things and healing things. That's it."

Sithia fetched a bucket of water and used a pair of tongs to pick up some pebbles from the hearth, dropping them in the bucket until the water was steaming.

"Why are you afraid of children?"

"I hate children," Sithia said, dipping a finger into the water to test the temperature. She dropped one last heated stone in it. "Without exception. And they know! They swarm and they pounce, just like Lydia's girl did. And they all look the same! Children are evil, Daedra in disguise."

"Now you're just being ridiculous. You were a child once. So was I. A very, very long time ago."

"Not like them. There's a Redguard brat here in Whiterun. If you see her, you'll see what I mean. She's the worst of them. Look at her hands."

"What's wrong with her hands?"

"She's swapped them with something else. Someone else, and not a Redguard. I think she's some sort of experiment with necromancy, a child made out of several dead children. Like a patchwork doll."

Serana raised an eyebrow. Sithia's sanity – or lack thereof – worried her sometimes. "You'd sense the magical aura. You're a mage too, you must feel it when you're around a fellow mage or their handiwork. A bit like you could feel the Elder Scroll."

"I'm telling you there's something wrong about her!"

"Sure there is. You're being paranoid."

"You'll see," Sithia said darkly. "Another thing about children in general is their fawning parents keep shoving them at me, demanding I bless them with a kiss to protect them from dragons. I'd sooner kiss a troll! Do me a favour and never have children."

"Vampires can't, not female ones anyway. We don't age. We don't change. Even if I was inclined that way, it's impossible for me to get pregnant."

"Inclined… You mean…"

"You know exactly what I mean," Serana purred, delighting in Sithia's shiver when she reached over caress her cheek and jaw, and the hitch in her breathing when she stroked her thumb across her lips.

It would be so very simple to seduce her. If she stole a kiss right now, that would probably do it. She leaned down and—

Sithia shoved her away. "Don't."

Not so simple after all, then. Damn it. "You want this, I know you do, I tasted it in your blood!"

"Yes, I do. But you don't want me, you want my blood." Sithia laid her fingers over Serana's lips, silencing the protest on the tip of her tongue. "Don't deny it. Don't you fucking dare. I will not be used. Not by you or anyone else."

Sithia grabbed the bucket and stalked upstairs, spilling some water as she went.

Serana followed her into her bedroom and laid a hand on her shoulder. Sithia tensed at the gentle touch.

"It's not just your blood. Let me prove it."

Sithia shrugged her hand off and put the bucket down on the table in the corner. She growled, brushing crumbs off the wood. "Fucking housecarl, why can't she eat her bread in her own room?"

"Sithia, please, listen to me." Serana reached for her again.

Sithia slapped her hand away, face set in a stony mask, eyes stormy with mingled hurt and fury. "You can prove it by taking your fucking time. I don't do casual. Make any moves before I'm convinced and I'll fus ro dah you into next week." Fortunately she wasn't actually Shouting, or she might have blasted Serana through the roof.

Sithia turned away, her back to Serana. She reached back over her shoulder, fingers closing around the ties threading together a join in her armour. She pulled the string, unlacing the leather and revealing a glimpse of the pale skin beneath.

"Do you want me to leave?"

Sithia paused, but resumed stripping off her armour, hands shaking slightly. "No. I think you should know exactly what it is you claim to want, if it's really not just my blood."

She let the upper half of her armour drop onto a chair, exposing her back… and the myriad silvery white scars crisscrossing her skin.

It was the branding that caught Serana's eye. A hand, fingers and thumb spread out, stretching between her shoulder blades. Clearly a symbol of something, but what?

"What does that signify?" Serana couldn't resist running a finger over the raised and darkened skin.

Sithia stiffened at her touch but didn't object verbally or worse, violently. "It's a… permanent reminder of my mother's questionable cult."

Serana looked again at the brand. Made by someone's right hand, larger than her own, although with long slim fingers like hers. Someone had pressed a hand against her back and used destruction magic to… She winced in sympathy at the excruciating pain it must have caused.

"Wouldn't a tattoo have been less painful?"

"Considerably. I wouldn't recommend brandings, not that I need to tell you that after your encounter with Akatosh's shrine. Although a tattoo is still painful." Sithia turned to face her, jaw set and a defiant light in her eyes, hands covering her breasts and pointing to the small tattoo between them in the process: a skull wearing a cowl and crown, covering its teeth with a skeletal hand.

Sithia spread her arms. "Like what you see?"

Those silvery white scars covered her skin, even cutting across her breasts. If they'd all been inflicted at the same time, she'd surely be dead from the blood loss.

Serana raised her eyes to meet Sithia's glare. "Yes, actually. Very much so. I think you're beautiful, scars and all."

Sithia blinked. Her lips parted, face slack with shock. She blinked again, and looked sidelong at Serana. "You're either lying, or you were dropped on your head as a child."

"I swear I'll never lie to you. By the blood of my ancestors." Serana drew her dagger and in the same smooth motion made it a blood oath. This time the wound healed as quickly as it had been made. "You're beautiful to me."

Sithia stared at her, speechless for several pounding heartbeats. "…You really were knocked silly as a child. Or was it being turned that did it?" Her voice was every bit as shaken as she looked.

"Will you believe me now that it's not just your blood?" Serana stepped forward and took her by her shoulders. Sithia's breath caught, her head tilting up to meet Serana's as she leant down.

Sithia's fingers came between them just before their lips touched. She stepped back, bumping into the table, the water sloshing about in the bucket. "I can believe that you lust after more than my blood. But as I said, I don't do casual." She lowered her hand from Serana's lips, and braced her hands against the table. "Kiss me before I invite you to, and you'll taste my Voice."

"I don't know, that sounds worth the risk." Serana took another step forward until she pressed against Sithia, pinning her against the table. Her laughter died in her throat at the flicker of fear in Sithia's eyes. "I'm sorry." She drew away, guilt a leaden weight in her heart. "I would never hurt you. I hope you can believe that."

"Not intentionally, no. Give me time, that's all I ask."

"You have it. I don't exactly lack time. I'll be downstairs, raiding your bookshelf." Serana left Sithia to make use of her bucket of warm water in private, and shut the door behind her. She slumped against it.

She'd wanted to stay, so very much. But she couldn't. Sithia naked was too tempting, and she'd end up coaxing her into bed.

She'd also end up begging Sithia to let her turn her. Because as a mortal, and a Thief at that, Sithia didn't have much time at all, especially not to an ancient vampire.

That and even if her self control had been up to the challenge, that flash of fear… Serana had a horrible feeling that she knew that fear all too well herself. She'd felt that recently, in Coldharbour. The thought that someone had done that to Sithia, that some faceless bastard hadn't taken no for an answer—

Her fangs descended. She needed to take the edge off her rising bloodlust. She had to go, before she burst back inside, begging Sithia to let her feed. Damn it, she'd need to drain someone dry at this rate. Preferably whoever had touched Sithia like that, but chances were he was already dead, at Sithia's hand. If not, then she'd hunt him down and make him suffer before the end.

AN: Serana is one frustrated and angry vampire. I wouldn't want to meet her while she's in that mood, and I certainly wouldn't want to be her next meal. Sithia's dark past is rearing its ugly head. No prizes for guessing what Sithia's branding is, but it'll take some familiarity with Oblivion's Dark Brotherhood to recognise her tattoo.

Coming up next: Fort Dawnguard! Another dragon to slay! And we might meet someone Sithia hates if I manage to get that far and the chapter doesn't get out of control like this one did – it was supposed to end when they reached Fort Dawnguard.