Chapter 8: Dragons and the Dawnguard

Sharp teeth crashed together right overhead.

Serana flinched. Pressed against her from head to toe, Sithia tensed.

Those massive wings beat again, like thunder this close, the rush of air pushing them against the ground.

The dragon roared, the ground trembling. No doubt disappointed at going empty mouthed. The thunderous wings beat once more, further away. Closer to the castle.

Serana pushed herself up on her elbows and looked up. The big black dragon wheeled around, but only to perch atop the castle, the ramparts crumbling beneath its claws. So close to the dead dragon, it was clear that the live one was at least half as big again. Maybe even twice the size.

Underneath her, Sithia groaned. "Serana?"

Serana glanced down. Her invisibility had faded the moment she tackled Sithia. Probably the moment she saw the dragon, her panic shattering her concentration.

"I told you to—Fuck it, no time. Let me up!" Even as Sithia said the words, Serana rolled off her and up onto her feet. She reached down to help Sithia up. Judging by her wheezing, she needed it.

Sithia glowed with golden light for a moment, centring over her ribs. Damn it, tackling her had actually injured her. Still, Serana couldn't regret it. She'd had no time to be gentle. Better bruised and winded than dead.

"Stay here, don't get any closer to Fort Dawnguard!" Sithia pushed Serana behind her and started running, impressively fast considering how breathless she sounded. "Fight fair, you fucking great big black bastard!"

If the dragon heard Sithia, it ignored her. It also ignored the attempts by the assembled Dawnguard to bring it down, their crossbow bolts rebounding from those thick spiny scales. Instead, its attention was fixed on its dead kin.

It opened its jaws and Shouted, "SLEN TIID VO!"

Flesh… time… against… 'What?'

Serana almost lost her footing as she ran after Sithia. She could feel the power from across the valley. The dead dragon glowed much like Sithia herself did when absorbing a dragon's soul. When the light faded, the mortal wounds were gone. It reared up, wings spread, knocking back the attacking Dawnguard.

Dragon necromancy… Amazing. Simply amazing. Even a necromancer of her mother's calibre couldn't—

Serana mentally slapped herself. Admiring the enemy could wait until after they'd been dealt with!

"Alduin, thuri!" The resurrected dragon greeted its saviour and overlord.

Serana shook her head. Dragons and their names. That big black one had to be male, surely no self-respecting female would have a name like that. Al-Du-In. Destroyer, devourer, master.

"Kaali mir, krii daar joorre." Serana easily caught the gist of Alduin's command to his underling: kill them.

Alduin turned his massive head, glowing red eyes narrowing as he looked down at Sithia, still too distant to do anything but run headlong into danger.

"Drem yol lok, Dovahkiin." With that mocking greeting, he took off, sending chunks of stone flying down as he soared away into the twilight.

Serana gasped in relief. Fighting two dragons at once was not something Serana wanted to try, even with a pet Dragonborn at her side. And one of those dragons with Alduin's great size and skills in necromantic Thu'um? The resurrected dragon alone was bad enough.

Serana clenched her teeth as she split her attention between running and focusing her magic. She'd need to aim for the dragon's eyes…

"WULD—" Crack. "—NAH KEST!"

One moment Sithia was within arm's reach, the next she was right behind the dragon.

It twisted around to face her, mouth full of an unfortunate Dawnguard.

Serana took the chance to hurl a shard of ice. The dragon blinked, the ice spike rebounding from the scaly eyelid. It grunted, shaking its head.

Sithia jumped up onto its wing, then leapt onto its head, sword thrust down.

Snap.

Sithia tumbled off the dragon's head, her sword blade still buried in it. She rolled to her feet as the dragon collapsed. Flames crackled, scales flaking away, bones blackening. The blinding light of its soul flowed into Sithia.

Serana took advantage of the distraction of glowing Dragonborn to call on the shadows to hide herself again. Hopefully none of the assembled Dawnguard had noticed her.

"Nil kun nii!" Sithia tossed away the hilt of yet another broken sword. Just as well she had that spare courtesy of the Dawnstar blacksmith… Serana made a mental note to remind her to buy another in Riften, as it seemed Sithia hadn't been exaggerating about losing a sword every time she slayed a dragon.

Serana started to walk towards Sithia. If the Dawnguard objected violently to their news, she needed to be close—

Wait. A horrible scent made her stop in her tracks. One of the Dawnguard was a werewolf. She could only hope that lycanthropic sense of smell was weaker than vampiric when not in wolf form.

An ageing Redguard stepped forward, bringing the stench of dirty dog closer. He crouched beside the dragon's skull and touched the body still impaled by sharp teeth. He shook his head. Dead. That gave Serana hope that his senses were currently almost as weak as a human's. She could hear the lack of heartbeat and breathing, after all.

He stood and beckoned to the men and women behind him. "Get something to lever these jaws open. Durak's dead, but he deserves better than to be buried inside a dragon."

One of the women darted inside the castle, saying something about one of her inventions being just right.

This Redguard was presumably the leader of the Dawnguard. That he was a werewolf might explain why he hated vampires so much. He turned to Sithia. "Dragonborn. Didn't expect it to be you. Explains why it took so long for you to come. We sent the courier two weeks ago."

"Fos dremahiik?"

What… courier? No, what messenger.

"I don't speak dragon, Cynthia. Why didn't you tell me?"

Sithia kicked the skeletal dragon's wing, a stream of Dovahzul passing her lips too quickly for Serana to grasp the meaning. Judging by the way it eventually switched to swearing in Tamrielic, she wouldn't have known those particular words anyway. 'Fuck' had not been part of the vocabulary she'd learned.

Sithia cleared her throat. "You're vampire hunters, not dragon hunters. It wasn't relevant."

"Wasn't relevant? You shouldn't be risked against those bloodsuckers when you're the only thing between us and the dragons. That big black one does that all the time! Anyone else brings down a dragon, and that big black dragon Shouts them back to life. It's done that twice with that one alone." He pointed at the dragon's bones. "That's why I sent for the Dragonborn."

"I'll be the judge of that, Isran. The vampire menace is even bigger than you suspected. We need to talk."

A gust of wind brushed past Serana, far gentler than the rush of air from Alduin's wings. Unfortunately it meant that the werewolf was downwind of her.

Isran's nostrils flared and his nose wrinkled. He growled. Damn it, so much for invisibility, the dog had finally smelled her. He snatched a crossbow from the man next to him and raised it. His eyes roved around, settling directly on Serana despite not being able to see her. He fired.

Serana only just managed to dodge the bolt. It scratched her cheek, the minor wound healing immediately now that the sun had set. Her invisibility ended, concentration shot.

Sithia looked over her shoulder, eyes narrowing as they focused on Serana's bloodied cheek. She turned back to the Dawnguard even as they raised their crossbows. Her shoulders rose as she inhaled deeply. "FUS RO!"

The blast of unrelenting force threw the Dawnguard back, some falling to the ground, some staggering, some falling to their knees. Several dropped their weapons.

By the time they recovered, Sithia stood in front of Serana, sword drawn.

"Hold!" Isran marched forward, pulling his warhammer free of the harness on his back. "Stand aside, Dragonborn."

Sithia sheathed her sword, but only to grab the shaft of Isran's weapon. "You can stand down, she's a friend."

"It's a vampire! Have you lost your mind?" He glared at her. "You must have, because you're not a thrall, I can tell that much."

"She's not like the others, and we need her."

Serana wiped the blood off her face, licking it off the back of her hand. She had to force her fangs back into their sheaths. The taste of her own blood made it so much harder to resist her bloodlust. She pushed it back, concentrating on what she had to do. Serana set her knapsack down and reached into it. She hoped that she wasn't risking having to touch a shrine again doing this…

Isran tugged at his warhammer, but Sithia held on, kicking him when he tried to lift her off her feet. He cursed and stopped struggling. "We don't need any vampire! The only good vampire is a dead vampire! Can't you see, it—" He stared at Serana, or rather at the Scroll she held up. "Stendarr preserve us… Is that an Elder Scroll it has?"

"That is why we need her. These vampires that are attacking, they're Volkihars, which is why they're stronger. And their leader, Harkon, he—"

Serana spoke up. The truth might as well come from her, after all. "He's my father, and he wants to use this Scroll to find out what he needs to do to fulfil a prophecy that will end the Tyranny of the Sun." She put the Scroll away.

"You expect me to believe that, you bloodsucking fiend?"

"I expect you to let me try to help Sithia deal with it, and you'd better hope that we can or you'll see exactly how real the threat is." Serana barely managed to resist the temptation to add an insult referring to his lycanthropy. Chances were his men didn't know, and revealing that might destroy the Dawnguard. Much as she didn't like vampire hunters, Skyrim needed them. Besides, someone had to be mature around here, and it might as well be her. The lone elf – not including the surviving Orc as Orsimer didn't live long enough – looked to be young, and even if she wasn't, Serana was still centuries older than a Bosmer could be.

"Fine, the vampire can live or whatever passes for it as a walking corpse, but you're responsible for it!" Isran finally lowered his warhammer. Sithia let go, allowing him to sheath it.

He jabbed a finger at Serana. "You hear me? You touch any of my men, and your friend here pays for it, Dragonborn or not."

Serana brushed his hand aside. She had no wish to have a finger in her face, especially one that smelled so foul. "Don't worry, I'll behave myself. Although it's funny that Sithia's in more danger from you and your Dawnguard than she is from me. I've never threatened her. You, on the other hand?"

Isran's calculating look at Sithia and the frowns of some of his underlings made Serana wince. Damn it… She'd slipped up and used Sithia's real name. And at least some of the Dawnguard had noticed.

"All right, show's over." Isran clapped his hands and turned to his people. "Celann, get the night watch organised, the rest of you get some rest. Gunmar, give Sorine a hand when she comes back with whatever contraption she's getting. We'll get the dragon's skeleton out of the way in the morning. Well, what are you waiting for? Get moving!"

Once most of the Dawnguard trailed away into the castle, Isran looked back at them. "Come inside if you need any supplies, Sithia, but the vampire stays out here."

Sithia crossed her arms. "No thanks. I'll get whatever I need in Riften. The food's fresher there anyway."

"Suit yourself. What are you going to do about this threat? Assuming it's real." Isran curled his lip at Serana and attempted to look down on her. It didn't work terribly well, considering Serana was a little taller than him.

"We're going to find a Moth Priest to get this Scroll read so we can find out what we need to do to stop Harkon. We'll need somewhere safe for the Moth Priest to stay, though."

Isran stroked his greying beard. "If you find him, I'll see to it that he'll stay out of the hands of these vampires. We definitely need to make sure they can't read that Scroll if this unholy prophecy is real."

"I was hoping you'd say that." Sithia beckoned to Serana. "Come on, let's go. We've got a Moth Priest to hunt down."

Isran's large hand came down on Sithia's shoulder. "A word, Dragonborn."

"I have a name. You even know my real one now, too. Use it. Or do you want me to call you Wer—"

Isran clapped a hand over her mouth. "Fine, Sithia. A word." He led Sithia down the path and through a gap in a fence until they were out of Serana's sight and theoretically out of earshot of anyone else. Anyone human. Either he didn't know the enemy as well as he should – specifically the extent of vampiric hearing – or he wanted Serana to overhear.

"First off, how do you know about that?" Isran hissed.

"I've killed a werewolf before. You have the same silver eyes. That and you smell of dirty dog even to me, and Serana happened to mention what werewolves smell like to her on the way here."

"How do you know that's not because I've been spending time with the dogs here? I train them."

"Then you should've claimed that instead of asking me how I knew. Because I didn't, not for sure. Some of the Companions smell like you and have eyes like yours, so maybe—"

"They do? Then you should be wary around them. Just because I've got my inner monster under control doesn't mean they have. Eyes like mine aren't natural, not any more than that vampire's."

"Really? Interesting… Anyway, what else do you have to say?"

"Watch yourself out there with that leech. It's been sent to spy, kill, or worse, turn us. I just know it." He probably did know Serana could hear them, then. Doubtless an attempt to intimidate her by 'proving' he was on to her. Serana resisted the urge to shake her head. She was being watched by the bearded Breton, presumably Celann, and his friends picked out for the night watch. She smiled at them, which quickly faded when she received suspicious glares in return.

She looked back at the fence when she heard Sithia laugh, wishing she could see the only friendly face around. Not that she'd be able to see much of it with Sithia's cowl up.

"If she'd been sent to kill us, we'd already be dead. Do you really think she hasn't had the opportunity? She could've picked us off one by one while we were distracted by the dragon. As for me, she's already saved my life today. She's helping us! The Scroll—"

"That's a ploy to win our trust."

"Harkon would think you and your Dawnguard an annoyance, not a threat worth risking his Scroll and daughter to be rid of. Besides, I saw their meeting. Serana isn't about to do anything for him."

"That's what they want you to think! At the very least it'll try to kill you and kidnap the Moth Priest once you find him."

"You're paranoid. I'll be fine, and you'll see that she's on our side when we get back with the Moth Priest." Sithia emerged from behind the fence and waved Serana over.

Isran followed her, shaking his head. "You're going to get yourself killed. Well, I tried. Go and find your priest and be careful. I don't trust that bloodsucker, and you shouldn't either. Take a horse – Don't shake your head at me, I insist. I can't let you stay overnight, not with that vampire around, but I can help you get to Riften and a bed there sooner."

They paused outside the cave entrance to the Dawnguard's stronghold, their horse munching on some grass.

Sithia held out her hand. "Give me my map, I need to check the route. Retracing my steps might not be the path to take."

Serana reached down into the lower cloak hanging from her belt and pulled the map from the pocket hidden there.

"Oh. So that's where your pockets are."

"Disappointed?" Serana handed the map over, wishing that Sithia's gauntlets weren't in the way. She could've caressed Sithia's hand if not for them. So much for smooth moves like that when Sithia was clad head to toe in enchanted leather.

Sithia rolled her eyes. "You wish." She unfolded her map, examining it in the light of one of the braziers.

Their horse nuzzled up to Serana, whickering in her ear, warm grassy breath tickling her skin. She patted his soft nose and gently pushed his head away. She might have overdone persuading him not to be afraid of her. Unlike carriage horses, she had to be able to ride this one.

Sithia handed the map back to her. "You might as well carry it. It'll be more accessible in your pocket than in my knapsack."

Serana pocketed it.

She gave Sithia a boost up onto the horse and jumped up behind her, arms sliding around her waist. She smiled at the hitch in Sithia's breathing as she pressed against her, and delighted in the warmth of Sithia's body against her. She rested her chin on Sithia's shoulder, smile fading as she thought of the Dawnguard's hostile reactions to her slip of the tongue.

"I'm sorry," Serana murmured.

"Oh? Good, maybe you'll listen to me next time I tell you not to follow me, or at least stay invisible."

"You'd be Alduin's dinner if I'd stayed in Riften." She tightened her arms around Sithia at the thought.

"Need to breathe, Serana!"

Serana muttered another apology and loosened her grip.

"That's better. And thanks for that, by the way. Being dragon food wouldn't have improved my day. Alduin… that's the big black dragon's name?"

"According to that resurrected dragon, yes. And I actually meant I'm sorry about forgetting to call you Cynthia."

Sithia shook her head, the leather of her cowl brushing against Serana. "Doesn't matter. I doubt the Dawnguard are considered important enough yet for there to be any Thalmor spies among them. Isran and some of the others may be former Vigilants, but they need me too much to let my having been part of a dark cult get in the way."

"Vigilants?"

"The Vigilants of Stendarr. They were founded after the Oblivion Crisis to try to keep one from ever happening again by exterminating Daedra worshippers. Oh, and vampires, werewolves and necromancers. Let's just say that their patron god may be merciful, but they leave any mercy up to him. Or they did, a vampire attack pretty much wiped out the Vigil in Skyrim a month or so ago."

Serana chuckled. "So that's two strikes against me."

"Vampire and necromancer, right?"

"Would've been three strikes, but I stopped worshipping Daedra shortly before I became a vampire." No sane Daughter of Coldharbour could possibly emerge from that ritual still a devotee of Molag Bal…

"I suspect they'd want to exterminate me too. Sithis is neither Aedra nor Daedra, but I doubt they regard him as any better than a Daedric Prince. Hmm…"

"What is it?"

"I wonder if being a werewolf is the real reason why Isran left the Vigilants… If they'd discovered it, he'd be dead."

"Maybe." They rode on in silence for a while – apart from heartbeats, breathing, and their horse's hoofbeats on the worn stones of the road.

The horse needed a name, really. But what? It was a Dawnguard horse, and at least some of the Dawnguard were former Vigilants, so… Perfect. Now to find out what Sithia thought without making it too obvious that she was seeking approval. "I wonder how long it'll take Sten to reach Riften."

"Sten? Who—Oh no, you mean the horse." Sithia groaned. "Damn it, Serana! They die all the sooner if you care enough to name them."

Sure enough, poor Sten died within the hour. He collapsed, heart stuttering until it stopped beating. Shock spells did nothing to revive him, only making his muscles twitch spasmodically.

Serana gave him an apologetic pat. Even if his premature demise had nothing to do with being named, she had to wonder if enthralling him was responsible. A human or elf's black soul could take it. A lesser creature's white soul, though?

Then again, it might have something to do with the weight of her knapsack. She could take it. But a poor horse didn't have a vampire's strength.

Damn it. Either way, it was probably her fault.

Still, no reason to walk when they could still ride.

AN: I reckon it's really Isran's fault for insisting Sithia take the poor horse.

What did you think of the dragon fight and their little chat with Isran?

Dovahzul from thuum dot org and the Unofficial Elder Scrolls Pages.

Coming up next: A vampire, her Dragonborn and a Blade meet in the Bee and Barb.