Chapter Twenty-Three
"You've made me proud my darling daughter." Serana lowered her gaze slightly at Harkon's words, biting back something that she wished to say but instead choosing against it. The whole court was staring at them, watching their every move. "And your fledgling has impressed me." Fangs gleamed at Yosa'Min who gave a small smile best she could in return. Harkon rose his hands high into the air, shouting loudly, "Now then! We shall feast in celebration of the return of the Chalice, its power renewed!"
A cheer rose amongst the gathered vampires, and they began to drink from the tankards and barrels on the tables or the thralls that were resting there on the wood. The sickening sound of groans filled the air, both from those drinking and the meals themselves. The stench of blood ran thick in the air, mixing with alcohol that someone had decided to add to the feast. Yosa'Min's stomach fell to her feet as she witnessed the near instantaneous savagery, and couldn't stop the hand that went to her mouth. Harkon was not one to miss details, and picked up a filled goblet, offering it to Yosa'Min with a curling grin.
"Please my dear, join us!" Yosa'Min swallowed dryly, and accepted it, putting the goblet to her lips to take a politely small sip. The moment it was near her mouth however, Harkon tipped it and she found herself gulping the dark red liquid down to avoid spilling it all across herself. When it was empty, Yosa'Min sputtered and stared at him with wide eyes. "There is no half-steps around here young fledgling," he said with a glint of fangs, drinking a full goblet himself. Serana had one in her hands and did the same. Yosa'Min's mind started to swirl with the effects, something added to the drink that she didn't recognize. Normally she would feel warmth and life when she drank blood, but this time there was an extra edge that made her stumble and swoon where she stood. A haze descended upon her mind swiftly.
"You look like you should have a seat," Serana said, stepping closer. Yosa'Min nodded her head, and found her way to a nearby chair. It happened to be at the head table, to the left of Harkon's large and prominent throne. The dark haired vampire lord took his rightful place, and Serana sat down to his right. The court was filled with noise as the vampires chatted and drank, some of them already slipping into hazes of bliss. Yosa'Min shook her head, trying to clear the settling cobwebs for the moment and addressed Harkon.
"So now that you have the Chalice back and restored Lord Harkon," she said, "what is going to happen?"
He looked at her without turning, brow arching curiously. "And just what do you mean?"
Yosa'Min glanced at Serana, who watched her silently, neither gesturing for her to stop or continue. "To Vingalmo and Orthjolf. They sent agents to act against you." When they'd returned and given the Bloodstone Chalice to Garan Marethi, Yosa'Min had let it slip that they'd been attacked by the advisors' underlings. It didn't take long for word to get back to Harkon. Much to Yosa'Min's chagrin, a clan of vampires were worse gossips than Delvin after a few pints.
"Ah, them," he smiled, taking a sip from a refilled goblet. "They'll be punished have no doubt. While one expects political maneuvering in my court, I will not allow such treasonous souls to fester."
She swallowed dryly, worried that there would be some backlash against her for spilling about what had happened. "I see," she said slowly. There was someone glaring daggers at her across the way, and the redguard couldn't bring herself to find out who it was. Sitting next to Harkon, she felt protected, as if none would dare to make a move against her. Perhaps it was all very much so incorrect, but the mere thought was enough to calm her spirit. However, being so close to the man she'd learned many dark things about didn't do much to allay her fears of sudden death either, his threat of killing her hanging above her head like a foreboding shadow.
If anything, it seemed more probable.
Harkon turned towards her fully, sipping from the refilled goblet that left his lips stained faintly red. "Tell me, Yosa'Min, who are you?"
Blinking with confusion, Yosa'Min fought the frown that wanted to cross her face. "Excuse me my Lord?" She'd been reminded many times over by Serana on how to address Harkon on their way back, that to further keep Serana's father from wanting to kill Yosa'Min, the redguard would have to push all the right buttons. Behaving and addressing him like a loyal vampire was a bit unnerving after what she'd learned, but Yosa'Min was no fool.
"Your fledgling seems to have potatoes in her ears," Harkon said loudly.
"Perhaps you shouldn't put mead in her drink then," Serana said in return.
He ignored her remark, and looked upon the redguard with authority. "I would like to know more about the woman my daughter has sired. You are family now after all."
"Of course," she said, nodding her head slightly. There was a second goblet in her hand, though she wasn't certain how it had gotten there. She took a small sip to be polite, hoping that being engaged in conversation would be reason enough to not gulp it down, and then answered his question. "I'm a hunter."
"Oh? Do you track down animals or mortals?"
"I suppose it's mortals now," she tried to jest and it seemed to have a well enough effect on the leader of the Volkihar clan. "Before though, it was just animals. I'd sell the pelts along with other parts mostly and keep the meat to eat."
Harkon gave an ever so slight smile. "You are not wasteful then?"
She shook her head. "There is a use for everything, if you know what it is."
"I share a similar sentiment," he said, "anything that lacks one is to be discarded swiftly however." Yosa'Min couldn't help but wonder if there was a warning in his words. Suddenly she feared she still on the outs with the powerful vampire even after returning one of his most prized artifacts restored to full power The fleeting thought that because Serana had aided her he did not think as highly of her as he would have should she have done it herself crossed her mind, but the redguard pushed it aside. Serana had been a tremendous aid, and she was the vampire lord Yosa'Min would serve without hesitation, not Lord Harkon. "Tell me, is there more to you than just hunting?"
Something about the way he spoke upset her, a snideness in his voice that she could faintly detect. Harkon thought lowly of her despite his daughter being her sire, she was certain of it. The same feeling she would get whenever someone would dare express supremacy over her returned, rising up from the very bottom of her being to boil her into a stupid, cold fury. There was one thing Yosa'Min would never stand, and that was pompous fools who believed themselves her better. Yosa'Min's eyes narrowed and she leaned back a bit, a shrug rolling off her shoulders. "Well I don't just hunt animals, I hunt dragons too," she boasted. Serana choked slightly on the blood she was drinking. The words had drawn attention from across the way, the closer sitting vampires daring to stop feasting to look over at the redguard. "It's a bit of an art really."
"That's quite the boast," Harkon said. "Any truth behind it? After all anyone can hunt dragons, but to slay one is entirely another thing."
If Yosa'Min had been looking, she'd have seen Serana was silently pleading for her not to continue, but alas the redguard wasn't. Instead, she was focused on Harkon's curling lips and glowing eyes. "Oh certainly, they don't call you the Dragonborn for nothing."
Silence fell upon the court, even the thralls having stopped their moaning upon the tables and instead muttered softly to themselves, unaware of where they were entirely. The quiet dragged on for a few more moments before Orthjolf burst into a bout of laughter, clutching his sides for added effect. Yosa'Min frowned, brow furrowing. "What's so funny?" She questioned sourly.
"Your claim," he said, rising to his feet. The vampires that had been dinning near him grinned in agreement, snickering amongst themselves. "I bet you couldn't even beat me in a fight, let alone a dragon."
"You really want to find out?" Yosa'Min said, getting to her feet just as well. She walked out in front of the large table and stood in the area between the other two that ran parallel to each other. Harkon watched silently, Serana's eyes wide with alarm. "Give me a bow and your as good as mine."
The stout nord vampire was crossing towards her, massive in comparison. "Please, if we fight we're fighting with fists and claws." He stopped a few inches before Yosa'Min, glaring down at her. Harkon made no move to interrupt them, and the fledgling seemed to not want it to stop either. She wanted to fight, she wanted to prove herself. The Volkihar clan wanted strength, power, perfection; she was going to give them that and wipe the smugness from Harkon's pale face.
"Father," Serana whispered tightly, not wishing to see her fledgling get in over her head, but she wasn't stopping it yet either. The court was a delicate game, and while she was out of practice there were somethings one never forgot. "Please, we're supposed to be having a feast, not a brawl."
"Orthjolf, you and Vingalmo have both betrayed me," Harkon said, ignoring his daughter while rising to his feet. "And as such you must be punished. Yosa'Min, kindly show these two the error of their ways, starting with Orthjolf." The redguard puffed up slightly, hands balling into fists and nodding her head at his word. She could feel a certain strength inside her unlike before, but while she was more confident in herself in a fist fight than before, the nord vampire before her was intimidating. It wouldn't be a long fight if she wasn't careful.
"What happens when I pound her face into the floor?" Orthjolf laughed, gaining a few agreeing voices from the tables. Vingalmo was watching with careful silence, observing what was to come.
Harkon forwent giving an answer. Serana got to her feet swiftly, the chair sliding out beneath her so fast it clattered and drew attention to her. The vampire took a step and disappeared in a plume of smokck, reappearing besides Yosa'Min and grabbing her by the shoulder to pull her away from the nord challenger. There were shouts of protest from the others, and Orthjolf crossed his arms with an expectant huff. "Yosa, you can't do this," Serana hissed quietly in the redguard's ear once they were away from the others. Harkon's burning gaze settled on the duo, one eyebrow ached.
"You said I have to please your father, and he wants me to do it so I have to," Yosa'Min replied.
"No, that's just the mead I saw father put in your drink talking. The effects are weird, all sorts of different remember? You're not thinking straight, there is no way you can take on Orthjolf, I've seen him tear a man's arms off just for looking at him funny. You need to-"
"I don't think she needs a pep-talk my dear daughter," Harkon interrupted, "not if she really has killed dragons."
Burning eyes looked at the sire, and Yosa'Min stepped away. "I'm fine, I promise," she said, and crossed back over. "Right here my Lord?" She asked louder to Harkon who simply nodded his head. Before she could react, Orthjolf had swung a fist out and clocked her in the temple. The short woman stumbled backwards, stunned, and the nord was upon her in only a moment, grasping her by the sides and lifting her above his head. Yosa'Min's head was still swimming as he threw her into the ground beneath his feet and stomped on her chest. Gasping outwards in pain, Yosa'Min lashed out with a clawed hand to get a moment to recover, rolling to the side as Orthjolf hesitated to meet the sharp points. On her feet, the redguard hissed. "Dirty trick," she spat.
He only gave her a crooked smile and rushed her. Yosa'Min carefully watched his each and every movement, the nord vampire moving with a speed that before would have been frightening, but now she could see his motions coming a decent amount of time beforehand. Yosa'Min ducked underneath the fist that sailed outwards, and grabbed his wrist, twisting it and pulling to bring him towards her as she so wished. Her elbow smashed into his face, and Orthjolf let out a surprised grunt, but little else was revealed as to the pain he was suffering. Yosa'Min followed the move up by dodging around his arms that came to capture her, and kicked his legs out from under him. He fell, tumbling in a mess of muscle, and got to his feet before Yosa'Min could deliver a follow-up blow.
The whole court was watching, curious or enraptured in the outcome. Harkon was casually stroking his chin, eyes baring down on the fighting duo. Serana dared not look away, for fear she would miss the blow that would do in her fledgling. Her fingers were curled around the armrests of the chair she'd returned to at her father's beckon, leaning forward in the chair to see it all with worry.
"Stay still!" Snarled Orthjolf, frustration bubbling to the surface as the redguard continually dodged his attacks. She'd moved back to a more defensive tactic, sides aching just at the thought of the power behind his strikes. Before the whole clan, she could not prove to be a weakling. He grabbed her wrist as she dodged away, and dug claws painfully in to keep her from slipping out like a fish. With a hiss of pain, she darted claws out and slashed his face. He violently shook his head in response, one hand going up towards the wound while the other released her.
"What so you can punch me in the face again?" Yosa'Min said back, stepping around him as he tried to pin her against a table in a blind rage, ramming her elbow into his back and jumping back before he could strike in return. "I know nords are a bit stupid in a fight, but truly?" Someone snickered in the court.
Orthjolf turned towards her and cracked a smile, wicked and terrifying. "Little whelp, your words mean nothing to me, don't bother wasting your breath."
"Ah but I get to watch your insignificant, little brain try to figure out what I've said," mocked Yosa'Min, "I can only imagine how hard it is for you sometimes." Orthjolf's smile vanished, replaced by a low hissing sound and a baring of fangs. He moved towards her, swarmed by a cloak of shadows and the sound of bats. Yosa'Min's eyes widened, she'd not seen that coming and soon paid for it. He rammed right into her, the cold bite of stone bricks meeting her back and knocking her breath from her. She hissed in returned fury, claws digging into his shadowed form to try to push him off. She could feel a thick ichor, though not exactly blood, seeping beneath her fingers. Orthjolf snarled and the shadows faded just enough to reveal his fangs poised directly at her neck.
Instinct took over and before the nord could strike, Yosa'Min surged forward and locked her own fangs in place, piercing his pale skin and the world erupted into a blaze of color. Orthjolf spasmed violently, twisting and trying to get her to release him but it was almost as if a deathhound itself had pounced upon him. She bit down harder, blood surging, and pushed on his chest with claws nearly sinking into the nord's skin if not for his armor. Orthjolf gritted his teeth as fire burned up his body, and then slammed his hands on both sides of her head, stunning her. Yosa'Min released him, and the advisor tumbled to the ground with a thrashing pain. The redguard's head was swirling as she gathered herself, managing to hold herself up with her hands as the effects of the blow slowly wore away.
The castle was utterly silent, horror, shock, confusion and disgust rippling across in silent waves from those who'd watched. Vingalmo was mortified, hardly concealing his expression where he sat. Yosa'Min shakily got to her feet, and tasted the blood on her lips. Her mind was nothing but blurs on what had happened, wipes of heat and color. Orthjolf had stopped thrashing, gasping on the ground with a hand to his neck to stop the flow of crimson red. A swirl filled the redguard from the bottom up as she watched him, rising so fast she could hardly even realize when it had passed. Her burning gaze devoured the vision of the beaten man, her claw marks on his body and her fangs having rendered him so inert. Her head pounded with excitement, throat burning and vision dangerously sharp. She'd never felt so alive as that moment, her larger foe moaning like the thralls in pain upon the floor.
In that moment a switch had been turned.
"It would seem she is more worthy a fighter than you anticipated Orthjolf," Harkon said from his table.
Yosa'Min looked up to where Serana sat, the stunned expression clear on her sire's face pleasing to the redguard. She wanted to tell Serana she'd told her so, but that would have seemed poor mannered. Lifting her chin slightly, her gaze burned into her sire's, waiting to see the pride or relief she expected. Instead, Serana's face became guarded, and coldness met the fledgling. Her heart shattered in her chest, and the redguard deflated near instantaneously. That wasn't what she'd hoped for. "Shall I fight Vingalmo now my Lord?" Yosa'Min asked, looking now solely at the vampire lord who smirked.
"No, I believe he has learned well enough and we need not spill any more blood on your garments," he said. Vingalmo let out a small breath. "Come my dear, you must get changed into something more suitable than whatever rags you found." Yosa'Min nodded her head obediently, and approached. "Serana, help her, if you would." The vampire lord smiled at his daughter, who rose to her feet without a word.
The assembled vampires didn't even wait for the pair to have left before they erupted into talk. Yosa'Min drowned them all out as she followed her sire up the steps towards where the castle housed the undead creatures of the night. It didn't take long for them to be surrounded by empty coffins, a mass bedroom of sorts for the castle's occupants. Yosa'Min's gaze ran over them, and then fell upon Serana who's back was towards her as she rummaged through a drawer. The biting worry and guilt had already grown to be enough for her to bare, and she could contain her questions no longer.
"Have I failed you?"
Serana blinked, turning around with a furrowed brow. "No, why would you think that?"
"The way you looked at me... You were so cold." Yosa'Min's gaze darted away and she rubbed behind her neck. Fingers brushed the little marks of a bite mark, and she shuddered at the thought. "I did something wrong didn't I?"
"Oh..." Serana sighed, "It's not that. You didn't have a choice, I can't be upset... Only... Yosa I saw the way you were looking at him, like he was some trophy."
"I was not!" She bristled, arms crossing with a huff.
"Yes... You were. I know that look well, it's been on many faces who come through this castle," Serana said more firmly. "My father tests everyone that enters the clan, it is how he has remained strong for so long. Tonight? Tonight was your test."
Yosa'Min's nose crinkled. "What kind of test?"
"The kind to where he finds out just where your allegiances lay, and just how willing you are to carry out his demands," Serana said, stepping towards her.
"I'm loyal to you."
"If my father told you to attack Vingalmo would you have?"
"What?" Yosa'Min blinked.
"Would you?" Serana pushed, growling the words out almost as she reigned herself in.
There was a pause. "No."
"You're lying to me!" Serana gasped, eyes widening with added disbelief. "You're actually trying to lie to me!"
The redguard shook her head swiftly. "I know what you want to hear so I'll say it. You're the one that told me to keep your father pleased, so I was doing just that! I don't see how that's wrong when I'm still obeying you."
"But obeying my father isn't always what pleases him! You must learn how he acts and tricks and manipulates. Blindly following does no good!" Serana sneered, a hand gesturing to the side as she struggled for another moment before she was totally under control again. "And now you're lying to me Yosa'Min. That, is how my father works. Anyone who brings in a fledgling of their own doesn't keep them for long. They either die, are stolen by my father or he breaks them." Burning eyes set fire to Yosa'Min, crawling anxiety working towards her cold heart. "And he just figured out he can steal you."
"Serana you know you're my Lady-"
"No, enough!" Serana cut her short, biting her tongue. The redguard shrunk back, yelping almost. "We will discuss this later. Put on the armor and get back out there, because right now you're my father's new favorite. Trust me, it doesn't last long so you might as well enjoy it." The sire made her way out of the room with purposefully angry steps, Yosa'Min staring after her with an expression akin to a kicked puppy. She sighed as the dark haired nord vanished from view, and looked at where Serana had left the armor. The redguard tenderly took it in her hands, red and black leather, and ran her thumb along the material.
Heart heavy, she began to get changed.
"My loyal clan!" Shouted Harkon, standing now on the balcony that overlooked the gathering hall. Serana stood besides him, a shadow, and Yosa'Min across from her on his left. Just as they were at the table. "Scions of the night! Hear my words! The time is neigh upon us, the prophecy draws nearer with every breath. Soon we shall no longer fear the sun and its tyranny, but instead rule over it and all the lands in eternal darkness that only a vampire is fit to command! With the return of my Elder Scroll and daughter, we now seek a way to read it. A moth priest is what we seek. To lure one here within our reach, I have spread fictitious tales of the discovery of an entirely new Elder Scroll."
Yosa'Min glanced at her sire, but Serana had stonewalled her expressions, watching her father with a rather apathetic mask. With a twinge, the redguard returned her attention to Harkon's speech. "Each of us must play our part, and will spread to the winds to find him before something should happen to our priest. Speak to the innkeepers and the carriage drivers, the guards and the beggars, someone will have seen our prey and you will find him." He turned and looked at the two women besides him, and they stepped forward. "Serana and Yosa'Min, I trust that you will serve me well in this endeavor. You will go the capital of Skyrim, Solitude, I know that you will be able to handle the delicacy of our guise while in the presence of such powerful mortals. If you cannot find the priest, then head to the College of Winterhold, someone will hold our answers there."
They nodded their heads, and Harkon clapped his hands in triumph. "This is what we have waited centuries for my vampires! Go forth and do as I have commanded!" As if in an extra show of drama, the vampire lord vanished in a swirl of bats, fading away somewhere in the castle. Yosa'Min could feel the heavy glares of the other members of the court as they began to make their way to the common sleeping room, a few hours before them before it would be safe to travel once more.
Orthjolf's gaze was especially hostile.
The redguard turned to Serana who gave a sharp reply. "No."
She nodded her head in understanding, lowering her gaze to the floor of the balcony. "I'm sorry my Lady... I have failed you."
Serana was silent, staring at her as if debating something, and then turned on her heels. Yosa'Min whimpered, but followed without protest as Serana led her back that way as well. They were soon in the same room as earlier, vampires already slipped into their coffins to rest. Serana gazed about, and found a pair that were vacant for whatever reason. She opened one, and pointed at the cushioned inside, glowering still at her fledgling. Yosa'Min stood still, pouting and trying to get her to talk, but it was a losing battle. As Serana's expression hardened from detached cold to an aggravated one, the redguard scurried into the coffin.
"Please..." She whispered, Serana faltering as she'd begun to close the top. "Tell me how to do better..."
Serana's gaze fell to the floor, and she bit her cheek. Every moment no answer came ate up through the redguard, and she nearly spoke again when Serana did. "Remember who truly cares about you Yosa'Min." With that, she closed the coffin and Yosa'Min found herself staring at fine wood where her sire had just stood. If she was supposed to get any rest, it assuredly wasn't going to happen. Her mind played the events of the feast over and over again, trying to find where she had passed this supposed test, and where she had failed her sire.
By the time dusk would approach, she'd still not yet have found her answer.
AN: So on to the prophet quest! I'd love to hear what you think of this chapter and what is to come, thanks for reading as always! This chapter officially passes the 100K word count mark! Thanks for sticking with me this long!