AN: here ya go! :D
"Charming place," Serana remarked as they exited the Councilor's home, barely glancing at the guards who were failing at trying to shadow them.
She couldn't blame them for being fearful and suspicious. She had gotten used to it. Her little dragon on the other hand...
"Stop. Fucking. Following. Us," Morgan hissed at them before walking slightly faster.
Serana couldn't help but grin as they backed away, still following them but at a much larger distance. She didn't give any of the local any attention as they walked through the centre of Raven Rock. A few of the more daring folk spat curses at the two of them however, and Serana ensured she had Morgan's hand gently gripped in hers as they walked.
"Huh. Figures you would come here, looking for more coin. Well, I have news for ya', there isn't any gold for the likes of you," a gruff voice called out from their left side.
Morgan sighed as a massive orc walked through the crowds, closely followed by a figure dressed in what looked like lobster armour. She bit her lip as various jokes shot through her mind and focused on the huge orc that had stopped five feet from her.
The orcish armour that he wore was full of dents and scratches, a sign that he had at least some idea of what battle was. The glass mace strapped to his right thigh however, looked brand new. As did the almost regal-like clothing she could see beneath the bulky armour. Morgan inhaled deeply, finding various scents that didn't interest her.
A bully of some sort. Likes gold more than anything else. Another Madanach-like prick to deal with.
"Mogrul, gold 'banker', at your service. Don't bother with your name, I know who you are."
"Good for you, you can read," Morgan replied tartly, causing the lobster-armoured man to stiffen upright and clutch at his blade.
"Slitter. Enough. The fool girl doesn't know who she is dealing with."
Morgan grinned, her fangs catching the weak sunlight just enough that anyone within twenty feet could see the sharpened incisors.
"Compared to a god like Alduin, you aren't worth messing my blade with blood, orc. Now run along with your lobster man and get out of my way."
She had to give him a little credit for staying put, but she could easily see how his muscles tensed up, and could also hear his blood pumping faster through his massive body in preparation for a fight.
"Mogrul. The Dragonborn has business to deal with. Councilor Morvayn's orders,"a guard spoke up as he walked past the two vampires and stepped a mere foot away from the orc, who towered over him.
Mogrul grinned wickedly at the much smaller guard before stomping off with Slitter close behind him. The guard turned to Morgan and removed his helmet, grimacing at what had just happened.
"You may want to deal with Neloth quick and get out of Raven Rock while you still can, outlander," he muttered as the crowds began to disperse. "Mogrul has a history of, well, violence."
The smile that the Dragonborn gave him had as much warmth as the Sea of Ghosts in winter.
"He isn't the only one. Thanks for the help."
He held his hand out.
"Celyn Morvas, Redoran Guard."
"Morgan. This is Serana. Two vampires on a quest to rip someone's spine out," Morgan replied with a grin as she shook his hand. "Is that orc going to be a problem?"
"I hope not, the obnoxious bastard has had his hands in very shady dealings in Raven Rock for at least the last ten years. But he has connections. A few even think the Morag Tong," Celyn explained.
Morgan grimaced. Two assassin guilds in one place. Not ideal.
"So he's sneaky prick and the law cannot get rid of him. Wonderful."
Celyn grinned. He liked her already.
"Just stay clear of the oaf, I shall keep an eye on him. Just go about your business and I will try and keep the civilians clear while you do what you need to do."
Morgan smiled at him, a genuine smile this time.
"Thank you. Stay safe Celyn."
He rose an eyebrow.
"I am hardly in any danger my lady."
"You weren't. Until I came along. Come on my love, I want to deal with Neloth as fast as possible."
He blinked as Serana patted his shoulder as she passed, and continued to stare at nothing in particular for the next two minutes as her words reverberated through his mind. When his brain caught up, the Dragonborn had gone. And the air suddenly seemed to drop in temperature as he walked back to the barracks. It was turning into one of those days.
Neloth felt their presence before he even turned around to acknowledge them. The ancient vampire was all too easy to identify. Her mannerisms earlier were from a time long before the race of men were commonplace across the continent. The way she stood, the way she looked at him, identifying any weaknesses were the signs of someone who had been given a thorough education. The other one was much harder to identify.
It was as though she had put up an invisible barrier between her and the world. As of she were looking at the world as though time itself was merely an irritation. Making a mental note to ask the two of them at a later date of their backgrounds, he finally turned around and smiled as they approached.
As expected, the tall vampire was scrutinizing him, her sharp eyes looking at him from a purely academic standpoint. He was liking the ancient one already. But the Dragonborn was looking past him, at the structure standing behind him. Feeling a little irritated that he didn't have her full attention, he cleared his throat.
Those twin burning eyes snapped onto his as though they were guided by magelight. She never blinked, never flinched. The silent stand off lasted for a minute before the ancient vampire spoke up.
"Master Neloth I presume?"
"Yes. And you are... well, I know already. The Dragonborn and her lover. Quaint."
"Great. Another snooty mage."
He looked back at the Dragonborn as she stalked past him, her movements silent and as deadly as the serpents that lived in Black Marsh. He watched silently as she stopped a few feet from one of the workers, who didn't acknowledge that she was standing right next to them.
"How long have they been building this?"
"Six days now."
He noted that the Dragonborn and her lover exchanged a look after he gave them that small answer.
"A coincidence? No. This happened when something else happened at the same time in Skyrim, yes?"
He was old, even for a Dunmer, but that piercing gaze that the small vampire gave him was fierce enough that he swore he may set on fire.
"Some cultist bastards attacked me in Whiterun and put my children's lives at risk. That's why I am here."
He didn't even know she had children. Interesting.
"Yet they failed, and here you are. Do you know who sent them?" He asked for simplicity's sake. He knew why they were here.
"That's why we came to you. Councilor Morvayn told us you were the best person to ask for about the nature of Solstheim and of course the person we seek."
He tilted his head to one side. So this dragon knows how to ask for help without seeming to beg for it. A slight improvement on my first impressions.
"I am indeed. You are looking for Miraak, yes? Curious."
"Curious? How so?"
"Miraak has been dead for thousands of years. Since the Dragon Wars in fact."
Serana smirked.
"Don't look at me, I was sleeping by then. The dragons and the race of men and mer were at peace at that time."
Neloth gave Serana another curious glance. This was turning out to be more interesting than he thought.
"So how does he send minions to attack me if he's rotting into the ground?"
"Perhaps he merely vanished into a plane of Oblivion. Maybe he even faked his death, who can say. But if he does exist, you may wish to start your search at his temple in the north," he said after a few seconds of thought.
"He has a temple of his own?"
Serana squeezed Morgan's hand.
"You have to remember that the world was so much different back then. The race of men looked at the dragons as true gods. They idolized them, worshipped them. But for the dragons to truly hold sway over these young races, they needed people to spread their messages across and prevent any uprising."
"The Dragon Priests. Morokei, Krosis... "Morgan tailed off, thinking of all those powerful creatures he had slain over the last six years.
"You have met them?" Neloth interrupted.
"Wiped the fuckers out," Morgan replied with a savage grin as she turned to meet Serana's gaze. "So the priests were doing the work of Alduin?"
"In a way. Alduin was controlling the dragons and they in turn controlled the mortal races. It was only a matter of time before they rebelled. The question is: why did Miraak come back to Solstheim while his brothers died at the hands of their followers during the uprisings?"
"It is so pleasant to meet someone with an interest in the past," Neloth drawled, ignoring Morgan entirely and putting his full attention on the much more intelligent vampire.
"What's the fastest way to his temple?" Morgan asked sharply.
"It's in the north. Can't miss it, it looms high into the sky. On a clear day at least."
"Thank you," Morgan said after looking at him again.
"A moment, if you would."
Morgan sighed and nodded for him to continue.
"There is something about you, isn't there. I can see it. You have travelled further than most. And I don't mean distance in a relative way."
Morgan stiffened as the memories of Coldharbour and Moonshadow burst into her memories. Elissa, Molag Bal. The slaves and vampires in a world of ruin and destruction. The healing in Azura's realm, the stunning plane of Oblivion that Azura had created. She was only aware that she was falling to the ground when the hot tang of fresh blood flowed through her nose and ears, Serana yelling her name as everything went black...
Serana breathed out a sigh of relief as Morgan sat upright. Placing her hand on Morgan's chest, she smiled down at her.
"You scared me. Again."
"Ugh... what... what happened?"
Serana sighed again.
"It was my fault. After we talked about Moonshadow, I taught you how to suppress the memories. You recall this?"
Morgan nodded as she ran her hands through her long black hair. She was grateful as Serana passed her a bottle of blood, which she sipped at, all while meeting Seranas eyes.
"It was foolish of me to think that it would work after what you went through. The Ritual I went through put some bad memories into my mind, but I had four thousand years for my unconscious mind to process it and allow any damage to heal naturally with time. You had a few months. It was only a matter of time before your defenses broke. I'm sorry."
Morgan gently took Serana's hand in hers and gave her a reassuring smile.
"If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be the woman I am now."
"Is that a good thing, or..." Serana grinned.
Morgan yanked downwards and pulled Serana down into a gentle kiss. She smiled at her.
"Depends. Now, where the fuck are we?"
Morgan had noticed that they were in grove of some sort, with three dead bandits strewn around the campsite and blood splattered all over the stone ruins and sparse vegetation.
"I had a busy time getting you here, but I did have a little help."
"What she means is 'I carried you' while she tore those Reavers apart. And you are welcome," a raspy voice came from nearby. Morgan squinted and noticed a man sitting on the other side of a raging campfire, a Dunmer who was chewing on what looked like a strip of meat.
"Teldryn Sero, at your service," he gave a nod as he chewed.
"A mercenary from Raven Rock," Serana explained. "He assisted me in getting you here after a short negotiation.
"My prices were reasonable," he shrugged. "And there is no better swordsman in Solstheim or Morrowind, I can grant you that much."
"Pleasure," Morgan grunted as she sat up, extending her fangs as she flexed her body, ensuring the newly drank blood circulated into her system faster.
"That's a sight that normally gets people screaming."
Morgan gave him a wicked grin.
"Just wait till I use a Shout or two."
Serana rolled her eyes but she was glad that Morgan was already recovering from her collapse. She had no idea how to prevent such a thing from happening again, however, so she kept silent. Last resort, she would ask Neloth.
"I don't hear a pompous wizard anymore. The day is looking up already," Morgan joked as she scanned her surroundings, grimacing at the wasteland of ash that surrounded her.
"Neloth went back to his giant fungus of a home," Teldryn replied as he finished the scrib jerky he had been chewing on before pulling out his blade and laying it on his lap. "He muttered something about 'Miraak' and 'Black Books' and left Raven Rock the second your companion here brought me to you in all your unconscious glory."
"I am not sure whether to thank you or put my foot up your arse," Morgan muttered as she spotted what Neloth had mentioned.
"I prefer a 'thank you' if you don't mind. Getting kicked by a superhuman vampire up my little arse is not something I want to experience, thank you very much."
"Shame, maybe later?" Morgan grinned at Serana, who giggled.
"That's Miraaks' Temple," Serana affirmed as she stood beside her love. "Ten minutes till sunrise and we will see what Miraak has to say. Or his undead body."
"You think he still lives? Even after four thousand years?"
Serana glanced at Morgan with a worried expression.
"I did."
"Six."
"Six what?" Teldryn asked as he shot the strange vampire Dragonborn a glance.
He wasn't fond of vampires, and he would be the first to admit such a thing to Morgan or Serana if they asked. He hated the way they fed, draining the life from their victims and leaving a shriveled husk in their wake. He hadn't known that Serana was a vampire until she removed her hood when he asked her to.
He had heard mutterings about a dragon attack while he had been sleeping with that vicious and beautiful woman in Raven Rock, Mirri Severin. He still had the bruises from their lovemaking when he had heard the dragon roar echo through the halls of the Retching Netch. By the time he had dressed and had staggered outside, the dragon was left in a pile of bones and only heard mutterings of 'Dragonborn'.
Mirri had gone the time he had returned and he had simply sat there with a mug in his hand until the beautiful creature had offered him one thousand gold for his help. He had asked her to show her face, and she had.
He had never been in such a trance before, but he had agreed, despite his misgivings about her kind, and had been tasked with carrying a seemingly dead woman for an hour or two until they had come to a Reaver camp. Serana had torn through three heavily armed men within six seconds, and he was suddenly glad that he hadn't dropped the much smaller woman in shock at her speed. She wasn't an ordinary vampire, that was certain.
So what was the connection between these two? He had been given his answer when he watched the two vampires kiss and he found himself smiling at the sight. These vampires were different. And he wanted to find out why.
"Six dead dragons. No flesh or anything, just their bones," Morgan said as they walked up the path that would lead them to the temple. "if Alduin had brought them back like all the others, they wouldn't be here."
"How is that significant?" Teldryn asked.
"Only a Dragonborn can truly kill a dragon," Serana explained. "These haven't been killed by Morgan. These have been dead for thousands of years. And whatever killed them removed their souls."
"An earlier Dragonborn. Was Miraak a Dragonborn?" Morgan muttered as she walked up the makeshift wooden steps, the murmurings of dozens of workers building another structure around the temple.
She already hated this island. It felt wrong. As though the magic of the place was being twisted somehow. It wasn't 'clean' magic that she could feel in a place such as the College of Winterhold. This magic was evil. Sick.
"Oslaf! Ysra! Can you hear me? Stop what you are doing! Please!"
Morgan didn't need to be told to sprint, and she jumped twelve feet over the tall walls of the Temple and landed in a feline crouch on the other side, smirking when she heard Teldryn's screech and Serana's amused snigger on the other side. She stood up and locked gazes with a tall woman who had seen and heard her approach, and was now unsheathing an axe and sword from her hips.
"Unnatural creature! Was this your doing?" She snarled.
Morgan unsheathed her own blade and flicked her wrist into the Stance of Akatosh, channeling blood magic into the blade as she kept her eyes on the powerful woman before her. Her heartbeat hadn't increased much, and her voice was calm yet strong. She wasn't afraid of Morgan.
But if she kept advancing like that, she would be soon, Morgan vowed it. It was time she let out a little of that frustration that had been building up for a few months, and this strong headed Nord was a perfect outlet.
The tall woman roared as she leapt at Morgan, and Morgan smiled as she sprang forwards, all her worries forgotten as she went into her attack, a smile on her face and her fangs ready for fresh blood...
AN: Don't look at me like that, cliffhangers are a way of life for me muhahahaha :D Already working on chapter 6 so you will hopefully no have long to wait ;)