A stone table and two stone chairs sat in the otherwise empty room. I couldn't see into the corners of the room. It would have been pitch black in here had it not been for the lone candle on the stone table. I could not begin to guess where I was or how I arrived here. I looked myself over to find myself void of all injury. It was as if I had never been harmed in all my time of living. My face was as smooth and undamaged as the day I was born.

Serana.

My eyes widened greatly as the sound of her cries reached my ears. She was crying for me.

"Serana?!" I called. Her sobs continued on, and I could feel my chest constricting and as my gut shook violently. I needed to find her. I needed to get out of here.

A smooth Nordic voice cut through my panic. It was unmistakably calm and reserved. My eyes darted to the source, and I found a man in dark robes, much like those of the Greybeards, sitting on the stone chair further away from me.

"Sit down, Mikhael." The man was about my age. His long black hair was eased back, making him look tough yet regal. His beard only adding to the look. He looked familiar, and I felt like I was supposed to know who this man was.

I eyed the man suspiciously and slowly approached the chair across him and took my seat. The man lowered his hands onto the table and interlocked them before me.

"We met once, Mikhael. In Sovngarde."

The realization hit me.

"Jurgen Windcaller." I muttered quietly as I looked at him in awe. One of the most powerful masters of the Voice sitting across me.

"But you're-" The master could probably read my mind.

"Dead? Yes, I am. But right now, sitting here, death is irrelevant." His smooth voice was calming, and I began relaxing into the cold stone chair as much as I could. I remained silent and allowed him to continue.

"You wonder where we are, correct?" I nodded, "We are in your mind. You are alive... Yet it is only but a ghostly whisper of your mighty voice that remains."

I frowned, which Jurgen noticed, as he motioned for me to speak.

"If this is all a creation of my mind, then-"

"Ah, I said we are in your mind, child. Not that your mind created this scenario. Our meeting is not a dream. I came on my own will, not on the will of your subconscious." Jurgen allowed the words to sink in, and I slowly nodded in understanding. Perhaps not so much in understanding as acceptance, for how can one truly understand the power of those who have ascended to Sovngarde?

"What happened to the Dawnguard?" Odds were that the master was watching over the battle. Why would he have just taken sudden interest in me otherwise?

"The battle is done and the vampires are routed. Your leader is well and so is your lover, albeit shaken by your unconsciousness." Relief flooded through me like a burst dam. They were all probably on the way back to the fort.

"You mentioned my voice being reduced to a whisper. What do you mean?"

Jurgen leaned back into his chair and eyed me before he replied.

"You recall the Way of the Voice, yes? What do they emphasize?"

Memories came to me. From the moment Jarl Balgruuf explained who the Greybeards were, to the moment Arngeir and his brethren formally recognized me as Dovahkiin.

"Peace and balance through the Thu'um, for the glory of the Divines." My reply earned a pleased smile from Jurgen as he nodded gently.

"You, Mikhael, Dragonborn, have used the voice as you saw fit. For this, we have no quarrels. You served Skyrim valiantly and have saved her from peril time and time again. While we do not take pleasure in using the Thu'um for battle, necessity has a way of changing things. For you, for the Dragonborn, we accept and tolerate the use of the Voice for battle."

Jurgen paused and sighed deeply, like a huge weight rested on his shoulders. "You abused the Thu'um in battle, Mikhael. While we can overlook this because of necessity, your body cannot. It takes countless years to shout and shout without weariness catching up to you, Dragonborn or not. The body, man or mer, is simply not meant to handle such repetitive power. I fear that your overuse of the Voice may have permanently damaged your speech."

I sat in stunned silence. I perfectly understood what Jurgen said, but I just couldn't accept it.

How was I supposed to carry on as a mute? An immortal mute at that. No more shouting for as long as I lived. What kind of Dragonborn has no voice? No more talking for as long as I lived. How was Serana going to cope with this? How was I going to whisper into her ear how much I loved her? How was I going to comfort her when she grew sad?

How was I supposed to promise my unending love to her?

Taking a deep gulp, I replied, my eyes locked on the flickering candle.

"This is why you came to see me?"

"You are the Dragonborn, Mikhael, one of the most prominent users of the Thu'um. I felt obliged to warn you of your condition before you wake up. You wielded our power with great might, and have not steered off the path of honor. To suddenly lose not only the Thu'um, but also your speech, is a grave matter. While you may still meditate and reflect on the Way of the Voice, no longer can you practice it. I wished to thank you, on behalf of all the Greybeards. For your just use of the Voice."

Jurgen stood up abruptly, suddenly looking bothered. "My time here is coming to a close, Mikhael. You are regaining consciousness."

"The best of luck to you and your future endeavors, Mikhael." I took Jurgen's outstretched hand and allowed him to pull me in for an embrace.

With a pat on the back, I was released. "My thanks."

The candle flickered, casting an ominous shadow on the solemn master's face. Jurgen stepped back just as the candle slowly burned out.

"Sky above, Voice within."

Shapes of various sorts and sized slowly blurred into my vision. The shapes began to form faces, as the sound of panicking whispers reached my ears. The third thing to come back was the great pain running along my midsection and the back of my head.

"Silence, he's waking!" A gruff voice hissed.

The voice came from the face to my right. Isran. I made out various cuts and bruises along the man's tired face. I rolled my head to the side to see an unfamiliar hunter bandaging the large gash on my stomach. I realized that Isran looked so damned tired because he was healing me. His glowing hands pressed against my head and my stomach were evidence to this.

I struggled to crane my head past the two to see where I was and who else was in the room.

I was in the medical wing of Fort Dawnguard. The room was unused until today. I could spot several hunters resting on the cots, with other hunters leaning over them. A slender figure clad in tattered vampiric armor sat on a nearby chair, clearly asleep.

I shot upright into a sitting position. My mouth opened and tried to form her name. My throat cried out in pain and not a sound was produced.

Jurgen was right.

Isran frowned as he forced me to lie down once again. He glanced over his shoulder at the snoozing vampire. "Serana!" He barked.

She jolted awake, eyes locked onto Isran's. And then onto mine.

The chair clattered to the ground, and she was by my side in a second. Serana wrapped me in a tight embrace, and I returned it for all I was worth. The pain in my gut as I sat up was ignored. It was irrelevant. All that mattered was that we were both safe. I had her and nothing else mattered.

"I was so worried." Serana croaked into my neck. She probably did some crying, judging by how unsteady her voice was. I couldn't blame her. I would have been a mess if the roles were reversed.

"How are you feeling?" She slowly released her tight grip on me so she could look me over.

Better, now that you're here.

Several scratches and bruises marred her face, and probably the rest of her body. Her eyes looked glassy, and would probably be tinted red were she human. Dark circles were engraved under her eyes, indicating she hadn't been sleeping much. How long was I out? I could only smile at Serana and wish I had my voice. Isran and the other hunter exchanged confused looks at my silence. Serana's smile slowly faltered as concern overwrote all other emotions.

"What's wrong?" Her brows furrowed in worry, her hand slowly coming up to hold my face. I gently took her hand and held it with both of my own. I shook my head slowly, much to the confusion of the three present.

I turned Serana's hand over to show her palm. I looked at Isran, and made a motion of writing on her palm. Isran raised a brow in question but complied nonetheless. He removed his hands from my person, causing the pain to suddenly double. Isran tiredly made his way to a desk on the other side of the room. The hunter to my side eyed his bandaging for a moment before deeming it complete and taking a seat on a nearby chair.

Isran returned, handing me a roll of paper and a quill. Isran and Serana anxiously came closer to see what I was about to write.

Taking the quill and rolling it between my fingers, I eased the paper onto the cot. My handwriting was terrible. They'd have to just bear with it.

I cannot speak.

Serana looked at me, confusion in her eyes, begging me to elaborate. Isran looked equally bewildered.

I overused my shouts. My body couldn't handle it.

Isran turned away immediately and left the room. His head clicked and he knew his presence was going to bother Serana should she get emotional. He turned to me briefly as he left, giving me a nod on the way out.

Serana stuttered for a moment, trying to grasp the situation. "You're..."

Mute.

She held a hand over her mouth, which formed a shocked 'o'. Her other hand gripped mine tightly. "Mikhael. This is..."

It could be worse.

I smiled through my own doubt and hoped she believed me.

We have each other. Skyrim is no longer in danger. This couldn't get better.

The look Serana wore indicated she thought otherwise, but she did not voice this. She remained quiet, and settled for playing with my hand for a moment, leaving me to stare at the paper. While she was occupied with my free hand, probably lost in her own thoughts, I began slowly writing mine down.

Lighten up, my dear. The sun is safe and we live to see another day. Our story with the Dawnguard ends here, but our story has just begun. We have the rest of our eternal lives together. My newfound disability will not change things in the slightest and will not stop us from loving one another. I'll make sure it won't.

You look tired. How about we both get some much needed rest?

I gently tugged on Serana's sleeve to snap her back to reality. She blinked several times before looking at the parchment for a few moments, a smile growing on her face as time went by.

She looked up at me. "You're right."

Goodnight, love.

I grinned at Serana, and she returned it happily.

She took the paper and the quill and set them onto the small bedside table. Serana quickly placed a peck on my lips before standing up. "Goodnight, Mikhael."

Serana winked as she left, and it felt so like her to tease me before leaving. A brief kiss instead of a full one. I had half a mind to force myself to stand up and chase her down.

Despite the thirst I felt for her lips, I was content. Lack of speech aside, all was well. I essentially just completed my last adventure. Maybe not the absolute last, but definitely the last for the foreseeable future. Until the day comes where I have to pick my blades up once again, I could relax. I could relax and be with her.

Were my blades left at the castle?

And my armor?

Divines. I'll just have to ask Isran tomorrow.

"Mikhael?" The voice came from the young hunter who tended to my wounds. He was seated on the chair Serana occupied when I woke up. He was as young as Agmaer. A fresh faced boy with long black hair slicked backwards rather neatly.

He stared at me for a moment, as if waiting for me to reply verbally. A look of recognition passed over his face, which he quickly buried into his hand. Setting his shame aside, he stood up and approached the bed slowly.

"I was supposed to say something, then I forgot about the whole mute thing, even though what I was supposed to say was about that in the first place. That happens a lot. Sometimes I can be sl-"

I raised a finger to silence the talkative Nord. He grinned sheepishly, quickly retrieved his chair, dragged it closer to the bed, and sat down. He took the quill and the roll of paper, raising them for me to take. I complied, eyeing him suspiciously as I did.

The young hunter raised one pinky and drew a shape in the air. He curled his hand to indicate a hole. He showed me his closed fist. He raised his middle and index finger, allowing them to split. He presented his fist once again, this time the thumb pressed against his knuckles.

I stared at him for a long moment before it clicked, and with the click came a wide grin. I took the quill and scribbled enthusiastically.

You can teach me to sign?

The lad returned my grin. "I can teach you and your girl to sign! Well, maybe she just needs to know how to read sign."

This was perfect. This man was a godsend.

What is your name?

"I signed you my name. It's Josva."

I will soon owe you a couple hundred bottles of mead, Josva. Thank you.

Josva pointed at me before motioning towards himself as if asking someone to come closer.

"You're welcome."

I was already giddy at the thought of communicating without my terrible handwriting.

How do I say her name without spelling it out?

"Well..." Josva trailed off and crossed one leg over the other. He leaned on his leg and scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Names are a personal sort of thing. You don't really pick your own, but another person has to give it to you, and you have to agree with them."

Experimentally, I raised my left hand up slightly. With my right index and middle fingers, I delicately grazed my wrist, right by the arteries. I twirled my fingers and brought them to my puckered lips

"Perfect!" Josva shouted in whisper to avoid disturbing the other occupants of the medical wing.

The weather was fair and the night was as beautiful as ever. Almost as beautiful as the vampire I held in my arms at this moment. I was close to a full recovery. Sometimes stretching a little too much would cause pain. Sometimes standing for too long brought dizziness. All in all, recovery was pretty good. Josva had been teaching us sign for a couple of weeks. Sometimes he'd teach us together, sometimes separately. It was tedious to learn, but at the same time it felt oh so good. Sometimes Serana and I still struggled with the new form of communication, but for the most part, it was smooth sailing.

Serana got more talkative as the weeks went by, too. I didn't mind one bit. I could listen to her beautiful voice all day.

"You'll never guess what Isran told me today."

I gently pulled Serana a little closer and removed my hands from her waist so I could sign. My index struck my open palm.

What?

She chuckled slightly, "He thanked me. The big guy just blocked my path to talk to me... He gave his apologies for my loss, and told me that if there was anything in the fort I needed, I just had to ask."

I would have snorted in amusement at this. Old Isran was going soft on us.

No. He was getting smart.

"He thanked me for all the help I've been to you and the rest of the Dawnguard. There was the mumble of 'I was wrong about you at the start.' That really took the cake." Serana laughed softly. "Of course I had to accept all of this and thank him. I'm glad he said all that, really. Makes me feel safer when walking the halls alone."

"Naturally, I smiled at him all toothy to make him uncomfortable."

"Then he goes, 'Stop that!', and that's when I start laughing at his face."

I grinned, my body shaking in silent laughter.

"I left before he got mad. I don't know if he really would've. He looked amused and irritated at the same time."

I sighed contently, allowing my breath to fan her neck. Sometimes, I'd still open my mouth to speak, only to forget that speech was a thing of the past.

We settled into a comfortable silence, leaving us both with much time to reflect on the past few weeks.

Not long ago, she asked me if I would get a cure.

The vampiric blood in my system completely washed away the remnants of my beast blood, and I've slept like a rock ever since I turned. The powers at my disposal along with the greatly enhanced strength and agility were quite a thing to have. On the other hand, the sun plagued me daily and caused me to weaken greatly. Then there was the feeding. I needed to feed to become less weak. Needed to feed to retain my usual appearance. Not feeding for a certain time caused my eyes to glow more violently. It caused my skin to pale even more, and my fangs would threaten to poke out of my mouth. These drew attention from guards and townsfolk. Serana smuggled bottles of blood to me in the recovery wing so I didn't go hungry. But now I'd have to actively feed. And avoid overdoing it and drinking a person dry.

Then there was the immortality that my vampiric blood brought. I would live on for thousands of years and my body would not age a day. I'd keep living. I'd keep living with her by my side. If I found a cure for the vampirism, I'd only have so many years left in me. My dragon soul would probably keep me from expiring a little longer than most Nords but it wouldn't make me immortal.

If I become a mortal again, I would leave her with no one when I die of old age. And I promised her that that would never happen. How would she react if I got a cure? She valued her own vampirism greatly, that much I knew. If I got cured, would I be able to convince her to get a cure? Would she even agree? She loves me. I know she does, and she would probably do it for me if I asked her to do it.

But nights ago, as I looked at those bright, fiery eyes, that stunned me whenever I saw them, that captivated me the moment I met her, and that waited for my answer, I knew that I wanted nothing more than to see those beautiful eyes every morning I wake up each day for the rest of my immortal life. Then I knew my answer. It came to me and I knew it would never change.

It was the same answer that came to me when I first picked vampirism over a weak soul upon entering the Soul Cairn.

I was remaining as a vampire for as long as I lived.

For her.

No, I told her. I was going to adjust to life.

But still she worried. She worried I was going to find the vampirism as a burden. She was worried I was going to get a cure and stop loving her because she was a vampire and I was a mortal again. This was of course absurd, but I understood where she was coming from. You just love someone so much, you worry that every little thing might cause you to lose them. I had to reassure her, of course. With sign, and with writing when sign failed me.

She looked so small and insecure in my arms that night. I wrote and wrote until she was finally content, and drifted off into sleep in my arms.

The peaceful silence lasted long enough, and I decided it was high time to break it. I opened my mouth and lowered my head to gently run my fangs across Serana's exposed neck, leaving a small red trail of delightfully agitated skin and causing her to shiver. Just like she did when she turned me. She released a stronger shudder as a slight moan escaped her lips when I planted a kiss on her neck. I then tightened my grip on her waist and allowed her to lean back more comfortably.

I was about to lower my chin to rest on her shoulder when she stopped staring out into the distance to look at me. A small genuine smile made its way to her lips and she clasped my hands around her waist, enjoying the closeness we were experiencing. The look she had seemed so bright, and I couldn't quite explain it. For the moment, I was just glad for the privacy we had.

Nobody to bug us.

No crazy ancient vampires, no Isran.

Nobody.

"Tell me you love me, honey." Her tone was sweet, playful, and positively filled with adoration. Her fiery, glowing orange eyes twinkled ever so slightly in the moonlight, and I don't think I've ever seen her more beautiful. I lowered my lips onto her own, saving the taste of her, and all that she was, never wanting to forget the feeling of intimacy in this perfect moment.

I slowly broke the kiss, eliciting a soft grunt from Serana. I gently pushed her forward and motioned for her to face me. She did as instructed so I could sign properly.

I raised a fist and slowly straightened the pinkie, the index, and then the thumb, grinning as I did. Serana slowly mimicked the motion, a faint pout on her features.

"You'd think something as sweet as 'I love you' would have a nicer sign." She muttered.

I held up a hand to stop her. She tilted her head in question.

I pointed at myself, closed my hands into soft fists and crossed them over my chest. I ended by pointing at her and putting on a sweet smile. This earned a quiet "Aw" from Serana.

"I like that..." Serana slowly mimicked the motion, but grabbed a hold of me instead of hugging the air. Her hand went to my face and traced the familiar pattern of scars like she always did. Her skin was soft against the roughness of the burn scars.

I raised a hand to stop her once again. My mind went back to my lesson with Josva. Serana didn't know what I planned on signing, but I hoped she could catch the meaning.

I pointed at myself, then at her, maintaining a pleasant smile as I did. I joined my hands together for a moment. Using my middle and index fingers, I created a circle in the air several times in the same pattern.

Be mine. Forever.

I repeated the first part slowly.

"Us? Together?"

Close enough.

I signed the second part, which she seemed to catch quickly.

"Forever?"

I nodded and took her hand. I repeated the whole motion again, this time holding her hand. As I finished making the circle, I pointed at her again. I kept my finger trained on her to indicate I was referring to her herself. I gently slid my two fingers across her wrist before taking them to my lips. I kissed the two fingers before lowering my hands to observe Serana's reaction.

"That's... Me? That's how you say my name?"

Yes.

"I like it." Serana giggled softly and took both of my hands. "And the answer is yes."

Serana gently leaned forward to rest her forehead against mine, her hands soothingly caressing my own. I slowly withdrew one hand to sign.

Forever?

She smiled and retrieved my hand, a soft chuckle escaping her lips.

"Forever."

A/N: Hey! And so this is where we close the book, folks. It's been a fun ride. A bit of a short ride when I look at how many chapters I put out. But I sincerely hope you guys and girls have enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. You've all been a wonderful audience. I'd like to especially thank those of you, you know who you are, who have been following and reading this since chapter 1. Your support is much appreciate, and gives me the drive to keep writing.

Give me your parting comments, guys. :) One final review as Mikhael and Serana's story comes to a close.

I'll have a new fic out one of these days. Not that sure on the title. It will most likely have the word Tyranny in it. The plot is original, and inspired by Bioshock: Infinite (Great game, recommend it to all of you). It follows its own plot for the most part, but starts up about halfway through Chapter 11 of Keeper. It will have alternate realities and shit. I think it'll be a fun ride for us all.

I won't keep you waiting any longer. A huge thank you again, everybody. Have a good day. Cheers!