A/N: Our fearless vampire hunters reunite... but no sooner are all four of them together than the cracks already start to show. Meanwhile, with a Moth Priest and an Elder Scroll under the same roof, it's finally time to see just what Harkon's after... and time to start planning to bring him down.
Nightfall in Hag's End and Athis had risen from the bed Keirine had provided to go do what he did every night. Sit at the shrine to Azura and wonder why his goddess had forsaken him.
It was your own fault. You should have said something to Cicero, stopped off in Solitude instead, visited the Temple or the apothecary.
He should. But it was too late now, and all he could do was endure the pitying looks and occasional hard stares and the whispers from Dunmer and Reachfolk alike.
'Reach-Princess's lover… vampire… does she know?… hold on, if vampires are attacking, why's he even here… Princess Eola's boyfriend, idiot, we can't execute him. Don't worry, Matriarch'll take care of it…'
Athis didn't want to know what Keirine would be taking care of, but he did know he couldn't take much more of this. Where had Cicero got to anyway? He'd promised he'd come back with Eola, or more likely a letter telling him he was no longer welcome in Jorrvaskr. The thought depressed Athis more than anything else.
Noise outside, more intense whispering then silence and then footsteps as the door to the small stone building housing the Reclamations shrines flung open.
"Athis, are you all right?!" Eola cried as she ran to his side, dropping to sit next to him and flinging her arms round him without even hesitating. The change in skin temperature didn't even seem to register with her… and then he smelt it. The same dog smell he'd picked up from Cicero. Werewolf.
"Wait, you're a werewolf too?" he demanded, shoving her away. "How long… was it you who turned Cicero? Or was it him turned you?"
Eola's eyes had narrowed, face closing up, sparks flickering at her fingers, and that only happened when she was angry or about to cast, or both, and Athis belatedly realised that had not been the best response under the circumstances.
"Neither," Eola snapped. "Cicero and I both accepted the Blood of Hircine from Aela after Farkas and Vilkas cured themselves and Aela felt lonely. And given someone got himself infected with Sanguinare Vampiris, I hardly think you've any right to judge!"
"I didn't choose this!" Athis cried, and Eola's expression only softened a little.
"I know," she said softly. "And I don't care you're a vampire now. I might even be able to sort out a cure if you want. But I like being a werewolf and I'm not giving it up. You still want me as a partner, you accept that. Or you can argue the case with Aela, see how far you get."
Not very far at all and they both knew it. But that there'd apparently been a pack of werewolves operating out of Jorrvaskr wasn't really the issue. The real issue was that his girlfriend had joined it, and presumably used her beast form now and then.
"They say in Morrowind werewolves feed on the flesh of their dead prey to get more power, and that they must change every night and kill someone or they die," Athis said quietly, wondering if this was really true, and if so how come no one in Jorrvaskr had noticed the body count racking up. To his surprise, Eola actually laughed softly.
"The first is true – feeding on a fresh kill will increase your strength, heal wounds and over time lead to new abilities developing. The second… my dear, you've clearly read too many trashy bard's tales. I'm not even obliged to shift if I don't want, and I certainly don't have to kill anyone." From the way Eola's lips curled, Athis realised that no, she didn't have to… but she certainly would if she got the chance. Maybe not every night, but often enough, and feeding on human or elven flesh clearly didn't bother her.
Athis felt the vision he'd always had of Eola shattering as he glanced out of the window at the Forsworn settlement and realised no, Eola wasn't a secret romantic yearning for a better life. Nor was she escaping from the Reach to live an honourable life helping the helpless as a Companion. She was a true Forsworn, one who could look on Keirine's true face and not even think there was anything wrong.
"You're no better than the vampires," Athis breathed, not sure who he hated more right now, her for being a werewolf and a witch, or himself for ever believing she was more than that. Eola flinched away, and were those tears in her eyes? Athis roughly shoved the guilt away.
"When did you last see me sacking a town or village?" Eola snapped. "When did you last see me kill anyone who wasn't a legitimate target or thoroughly deserving? When did you last see me give discounts to a poor client with a worthy cause, or listen to someone in need and promise them we could help? All the fucking time to that last one."
Which was definitely true, Athis had seen her do it, and he could barely get anywhere in Skyrim without someone recognising him and buying him a drink or discounting goods in stores or even just stopping him in the street to ensure he told Eola they'd not had a problem since she'd helped them out and to thank her most sincerely. The public face of the Reach-Princess Harbinger was of a caring humanitarian always willing to champion the underdog and those less fortunate.
The private face of the Harbinger was apparently a dangerous werewolf killer who liked to feed on her prey afterwards.
"You eat people," Athis growled. "And you expect me to look the other way?"
Eola closed her eyes, not able to meet his gaze, but her voice didn't sound weak when she spoke next.
"You're now compelled to feed on the blood of other people until you either take your own life or someone else does," Eola said grimly. "There's a cure but it involves killing someone and offering their soul to the Daedra as an offering so they'll banish the vampirism from you. Alternately, drinking my blood would also cure you, but then you'd be a werewolf. Just like me."
"I would not be like you!" Athis snapped. "I'd be… I mean, I wouldn't use it! And I'm drinking potions, not feeding!"
"Someone still had to donate that blood though," Eola said, shrugging. "Look, I don't have a problem with it. We all have needs. I can accommodate yours, if you let me. But Athis, you can't exactly claim the moral high ground here. One day you're going to have to feed on an unwilling or unknowing victim. What will you do then?"
"I don't know," Athis whispered, confidence faltering as it occurred to him she was right. Would the Reach last forever? By human standards it might last a very long time, but by elven standards that might be no time at all. And when you knew old age would never claim you? Athis closed his eyes and tried to hide the fear inside… but he couldn't deny it was there. There really were no good outcomes to this, were there?
"Athis?" Eola's voice had grown softer, gentler as he felt her draw near, a hand on his arm. "Athis, are you all right?"
"Of course not," Athis managed to say. "I got turned into a horrible monster, and then I found out my girlfriend's an unashamed werewolf who doesn't really see anything wrong with feeding on corpses. All the time I thought you were this sweet, idealistic princess looking for a better life, and it turns out you use dark magic."
Sharp tutting noise from Eola, and Athis wasn't entirely if she disapproved or just found the idea hilarious.
"I'm the daughter of the King in Rags, and you thought I was some wholesome innocent?" Eola laughed, the derision plain to hear. "Some cosseted daddy's girl? I love my father but he spent most of my childhood in prison, and if I'd not run away in my teens, I'd likely have ended up fighting like Kaie did. Did you want some gentle maiden in a flowing silk dress and glass slippers, spending her life sitting in a palace by the sea waiting for some hero to rescue her? Because that is not, and never was, me, Athis. That's Elisif, except in the end even she got tired of waiting and went out to save Skyrim herself. And she did not get a handsome young prince out of it, and honestly she's not as innocent as all that either. She has no problem ordering the deaths of her enemies – or killing them personally."
Athis didn't need reminding of that – he'd had the story of Ulfric's death from Vilkas who had quietly added that while it had been a heroic fight and all that, there were some things a man couldn't unsee, and Ulfric's screams of pain as he tried to put the fire out before Elisif finally ended him, not to mention what was left of his face afterwards, would stay with Vilkas for a long time. But Elisif was not the one he'd fallen in love with.
"I know what politics involves and I know what being a Companion involves," Athis said softly. "Or I thought I did – did Kodlak really have no problem with werewolves?"
"Kodlak was one," Eola told him and if Athis thought this conversation couldn't get any weirder, he was wrong. "All the Circle were – that's been the case for the last few hundred years. Kodlak consented to the blood being given, and for all I know spent decades revelling in it before he started regretting it in old age. We cured him in the end, but don't think that taking it on wasn't something done freely."
Athis really couldn't get his head round the idea of Kodlak Whitemane rampaging across the countryside ripping unsuspecting bandits to pieces in beast form… and yet the more he thought about it, the more he could see Kodlak justifying it to himself.
"I don't know what to say," Athis whispered, at a loss as everything he thought he knew crumbled. "Does Cicero know – of course he knows. He's more than half crazy but the really disturbing things about him were there already, I think. And I don't think that old company of his operated inside the law at all – either that or the Empire have some secret special ops unit and he was one of them."
"You're not far wrong, although that's Cicero's story to tell, not mine," Eola said cryptically. Athis just bet it was, although he had no intention of actually asking. Azura knew what he'd hear back.
"Am I still welcome as a Companion?" Athis asked, although he was definitely at this point starting to question the company's reputation as honourable warriors. Law-abiding ones at any rate – but given what he'd just turned into, perhaps that wasn't entirely a bad thing.
"Yes. If you want to be," Eola said, and there was something about her voice, the sadness and hope combined that got to him… and while he didn't know where any of them went from here, he did know that he couldn't do this alone.
"I think I still want to be," Athis admitted. "I – I don't know where we go yet… but I don't want to deal with all this alone. And… gods, Eola, I don't even know what happens to us. All this time and it turns out I barely know you."
Athis couldn't hide the heartbreak in his voice and when Eola spoke, there was little recrimination in hers.
"It's not entirely your fault. If you weren't looking, I wasn't going out of my way to show you either. I… dammit Athis, no one ever looked at me before like I was a hero. Like I was a good person! I mean, that's because I'm not, but that's not the point. Point is, Da loves me but would love me anyway regardless of what I did. And Cicero loves me precisely because I am not a sweet little innocent. But you… you saw the best in me. Even if it wasn't there to begin with. And… I joined the Companions because Cicero wanted to and because Kodlak seemed taken with him and because Cicero does very well indeed when he's somewhere where there's always someone around to talk to and when you can point him at someone in need of stabbing and guarantee him a pat on the head afterwards for being a good boy. I didn't expect… well, I certainly didn't expect to end up as Harbinger, and I certainly didn't expect to enjoy it as much as I do, and… I didn't expect to end up being seen as some sort of hero of the downtrodden of Skyrim. I mean, I've always been something of a champion of the forgotten and the wretched, but I never got the chance to make a difference personally before. To be admired, loved even. And then there you were, believing in me and telling me how proud you were and I couldn't… I'm sorry, Athis. I should have said, but I couldn't. I never wanted to be a better person before, but you made me want to try. So I did."
Eola fell silent, sounding as if she was on the verge of tears, and Athis felt his heart break as he realised he just wanted to hold her and tell her it would be all right. Except he couldn't quite bring himself to do it.
She's a monster.
She's a monster who helps people and makes the world a better place.
Not for the ones she kills and eats!
They were hardly making the world a better place, you know that.
It's still wrong!
So is drinking blood and now look at you. Admit it, you'd thought she'd turn from you in horror. You haven't lost her after all.
Not in the way you thought you had anyway.
Athis wanted to cry… but the thought also occurred to him that if redemption was possible for a flesh-eating werewolf witch, it might also be possible for a vampire.
"Eola," Athis said quietly. "I don't know where we go from here. But I don't want to be alone and I need your help. So… help me?"
Eola actually smiled, although the sadness didn't leave her eyes. She shifted closer, reached out her arms and pulled him into a hug.
"I'm not going anywhere," Eola said gently, and Athis closed his eyes and held her, tears in his eyes.
Don't leave me. Utterly hypocritical considering what had been going through his mind but as he held her in his arms, he realised he couldn't let her go. Not right now. As for the future, that would have to wait. He supposed he'd have to set up a regular blood supply, go back to Jorrvaskr with her and see how things went, and maybe, just maybe, things might be all right. So he told her this and Eola nodded before looking up, actually grinning at some excitement he'd yet to hear about.
"Now that's where you're wrong, my dear," Eola drawled. "We're not going back there, not quite yet. You see, it turns out we just missed Saff and Brynjolf on their way to report in to Delphine. Seems they've also been having quite the adventure with vampires. See, the only ones who can reliably read Elder Scrolls are Moth Priests and it turns out that now that Harkon has an Elder Scroll, the vamps made a play for a Moth Priest that's currently visiting Skyrim. Only because you and Cicero knew about Serana and the Scroll, and had the sense to report it to Delphine, Sapphire and Brynjolf were also out looking and they got to him first. They've taken him to Sky Haven Temple for his own protection."
A good plan, but without Serana's Elder Scroll, a Moth Priest wasn't a lot of use to them. Athis told her this, and Eola's grin just widened.
"Well now, Athis. Funny you should ask. Guess who we've got with us..."
It had been a surprise to see Serana again, and an even bigger one to hear she'd run away from her family merely two days after he'd last seen her… and the biggest surprise of all was her awkwardly patting his arm and asking if he was all right.
Athis hadn't been able to stop himself hugging her, which had turned out to be awkward for both of them given Serana apparently wasn't that keen on people touching her, but he'd rather gruffly been able to let her know he was pleased to see her again and could do with all the friends he could get right now. Serana had patted his back and told him she'd help in any way she could.
And so the four of them had left for Sky Haven Temple, taking the portal to Markarth before setting out for Karthspire with the stars twinkling above them and Masser lighting the way. Athis had dropped back, talking quietly with Serana, while Eola walked ahead with Cicero. Although she'd be moving a lot faster if she didn't keep glancing over her shoulder.
"Beloved, they have not disappeared into the undergrowth to rut, you are quite safe," Cicero said calmly, seeming to guess what was on Eola's mind.
"That's not what – they're not going to do that!" Eola sighed. Serana really didn't seem like she wanted sex with anything right now, and she knew Athis didn't just go round having sex with random women… but that didn't stop her feeling anxious.
"Then why is your brain worrying and wailing, my sweet," Cicero said, still calm, but his hand slipped into hers and squeezed. Bloody Forsworn marriage bonds transmitting emotions to him. Eola scowled but Cicero was politely but firmly staring at her, and she realised she was going to have to answer.
"He only just met her and they're already talking like old friends," Eola said, aware of how petulant this sounded, but that didn't mean the feelings weren't real. "He's not even sure he still loves me any more. He found out about the werewolf thing. And worked out the flesh-eating bit on his own. And it doesn't matter how many people I've helped, how I've tried to be a good person, tried to do the right thing, tried to be who he thought I was. He knows who I really am now. And the only reason he hasn't run away is because he's a vampire now and needs all the friends he can get. But now he's got Serana and he doesn't even need me for that!"
Eola wasn't crying, not exactly, but she was definitely pouting, she could feel it, and Cicero was looking sympathetically back, snuggling closer with wide eyes gazing up at her.
"Cicero knows, sweetling, Cicero is only thankful his father died not knowing Cicero's true past," Cicero sighed. "Oh but Eola, if he was truly revolted, he would have left regardless, or told people. He is doing none of that. He does not want you to leave, and he cannot go through life with only one friend. Only Serana is one of his kind and he wishes to speak with her."
"He wanted a princess, Cicero," Eola said bitterly. "She's one. She's a better one than I am."
Cicero tutted, shaking his head.
"Princess? Cicero has seen her father's court, my love. It is a dark and violent place, beloved, far far more evil than your father's court. Athis saw it too and rejected it. He is not likely to reject you for not being wholesome and innocent, and turn to Serana."
"She's rejecting her past!" Eola hissed. "She's helping to wipe out her father's entire court! Me, I'm a loyal Forsworn!"
"Yes," Cicero said calmly. "Because your father is cunning and smart and knows how to build a country that will not get wiped out by the Nords despite being full of Hagravens and necromancers and necromancing Hagravens. And your father's laws are giving Athis a sanctuary of sorts."
"So it'll be just me he is rejecting. Great," Eola said morosely. Athis was drifting away from her and she had no idea how to stop it or even if she should. Cicero let go her hand and placed an arm round her waist instead.
"Then it will be his loss," Cicero murmured. "And Cicero is not going anywhere, my sweet. Cicero appreciates you, even if he does not."
Cicero was whispering in her ear, nose rubbing against her cheek, seductive purr in his voice, and although Eola was feeling too miserable for sex, she still appreciated having him around.
"Thank you," Eola whispered, turning to brush her lips against his. "I love you."
Cicero squeaked and kissed her, lips meeting hers as their eyes closed, and Eola could feel happy contentment from him, and he must have liked what he got back from her because he stopped and smiled, and vicious killer he might be but he also made Eola's heart skip whenever he smiled.
"Cicero loves you too," he purred. "Now, shall we move on? It is best if we reach Karthspire before the sun rises."
Eola had no problem with that. Taking Cicero's hand in hers, she led the way. If she focused on targeting Harkon, it took her mind off her own dysfunctional love life.
They reached Karthspire in the early hours of the morning, and aside from the ReachGuard sentries on duty warning Cicero to keep his cock in his pants this time, and Cicero going scarlet and muttering an affirmative before sprinting for Sky Haven Temple, there were no incidents.
The Temple was quiet but Eola and Cicero both knew where the dorms were – beds visiting Blades could just fall into at all hours, no questions asked, and so all four of them snatched a few hours rest before everyone else got up.
Which meant that after breakfast and introductions were out of the way, Serana's Elder Scroll found its way into the hands of a delighted Moth Priest.
"Extraordinary!" Dexion whispered, gazing at the Scroll as Serana laid it on the war table in Sky Haven Temple's main hall. "And you had it with you this whole time?"
"For the last few thousand years, it turns out," Serana told him, rather amused to see him not bat an eyelid at two vampires walk in. Eola had assured him they were friendly and after that, Dexion Evicus had calmed down and simply treated them like everyone else. In fact, he'd seemed more fascinated by the Scroll than anything else, doting on it like a baby. Indeed, he'd been so obsessed with the Scroll, he'd even ignored Cicero in full motley.
"So, now that we're all here," Delphine announced as everyone gathered for the reading, standing at the head of the table, Brynjolf on her right, Ralof on her left, Cicero down the other end of the table, perched on Eola's lap, and Athis and Serana seated next to each other in the middle, neither really saying much. Eola wasn't even looking their way, preferring to rest her head on Cicero's chest while Cicero fussed nervously over her. Instead it was Cicero who kept sending sad glances in Athis's direction, a man missing his brother.
But no one had time to spare for Eola's love life, least of all Delphine the Blademistress. Not with an Elder Scroll and a Moth Priest to read it.
"About time we had this Scroll read and found out what this Harkon fellow wants with it, wouldn't you say?" Delphine drawled, indicating the Scroll. "Dexion, are you ready?"
"Oh absolutely, yes," Dexion whispered, enthralled as he reached for the gleaming cylinder. It was only Brynjolf who raised an eyebrow.
"You don't need to take any special precautions or anything, do you, lad?" Brynjolf asked, shrewdly inclining his head. "I'd heard reading these things was dangerous."
"Yes, yes, for the untrained they certainly possess a high level of risk, but don't you worry, young man, I've had years of training in these matters. Now, if you'll just let me ready myself..." Dexion had picked up the Scroll, taken a deep breath and was holding it out, heedless of Ralof determinedly looking away with his eyes shut and Brynjolf's worried expression.
"I see…" Dexion intoned. "I see… a vision before me, an image of a great bow. I know this weapon! It is Auriel's Bow! Now a voice whispers, saying 'Among the night's children, a dread lord will rise'. In an age of strife, when dragons return to the realm of men, darkness will mingle with light and the night and day will be as one. The voice fades…. But wait, there is more here. The secret of the bow's power is written elsewhere. I think there is more to the prophecy, recorded in other scrolls. Yes, I see them now... One contains the ancient secrets of the dragons, and the other speaks of the potency of ancient blood. My vision darkens, and I see no more."
Dexion sank into a chair, rubbing his eyes as he placed the refurled Scroll on the table. Ralof was by his side in seconds, asking if he was all right.
"Knew it," Brynjolf said softly and Delphine also looked grim but she motioned for Brynjolf to take the Scroll away.
"Get that to Esbern for storage in the library – tell him not to try and read it under any circumstances whatsoever," Delphine told him before running to Dexion's side. "Dexion, are you all right?"
"Yes, I – I'm fine, I think I need to rest..." Dexion whispered, and Ralof shook his head.
"I don't think he's fine, Delphine. I think that Scroll's damaged him somehow."
"All right," Delphine said quietly. "Look, get him to a bedroom and let him rest. Get him any potions he asks for, do not leave him alone. Send for one of the Reachfolk healers too, I think one of them will need to have a look at him."
Ralof nodded and help Dexion away, leaving Delphine surveying the four who'd brought the Scroll in the first place.
"So. Two more Scrolls needed," Delphine said, thinking this over. "One about the potency of ancient blood – I have literally no idea where we'd even start looking for that, but I will have all our agents listening out for one. But the Scroll with the secrets of ancient dragons – that we do know of. I believe that's the one our Dragonborn learnt Dragonrend out of. If we can get that..."
"But Elisif donated it to the College of Winterhold," Eola replied, her heart sinking as she recalled Elisif's proclamation on the matter. "To be kept safe for Skyrim and the Empire and the knowledge of future generations, and to be held under the highest security and not allowed to leave the College without her express permission or the command of the Ruby Throne."
"So get Elisif's permission then," Delphine said, shrugging. "Not like you don't know her, Eola."
"It takes time, Del!" Eola protested. "I'm not even sure if she's in Solitude or Markarth at the moment!"
"Solitude for another week or so," Delphine sighed. "Suggest you stay here for today then leave at sunset – get an overnight carriage from Markarth or portal to Hag's End and then a carriage from there, might be quicker. Should get you to Solitude in time for court to open and then you can petition Elisif directly. Come on, Eola, your brother's the steward and your father's likely to be around as well, this should not be difficult for you. Tell her everything and ask if she can get the Scroll sent to us."
"OK, will do," Eola said, giving in. Eola detested politics and while she loved her father and siblings, visiting the Royal Court of Solitude always weighed on her a little. Hard to escape all the eyes watching you. Not what any Namira-worshipper sought after. But she could play the game when she had to. "But that's only one Scroll. What about the other?"
"We'll find it," Delphine said firmly. "Who knows, maybe whatever's in that Elder Scroll we do have access to will give some clues."
"Not if it's that other one Harkon had," Eola pointed out. "Serana's ma made off with it after sealing Serana away, and who knows where she went?"
A good point, but there was one potential line of enquiry, and as one, all eyes turned to Serana.
"So, Serana, where might your mother have gone with that other Elder Scroll then?" Delphine said, taking a seat opposite Serana, scrutinising her carefully as only an experienced spy could.
Serana did not like scrutiny.
"I don't know!" Serana cried. "She wouldn't tell me where she was going. She wouldn't even tell me where I was going until we got to Dimhollow. My mother's secretive, paranoid and not exactly forthcoming about her plans."
Delphine didn't really have the right to judge anyone for those flaws, but nevertheless there had to be some lead and Serana was their only source.
"She must have had said something," Delphine said, leaning in, pushing for the merest hint of information. "You're her daughter, she couldn't just expect you to do what you were told with no questions asked."
"You don't know my mother!" Serana laughed bitterly. "But I did ask where she was going. She wouldn't say where exactly… but she said she'd be going somewhere my father would never think to look. It was cryptic, but something about the way she said it… like she was drawing attention to it. Somewhere my father would never think to look."
Somewhere Lord Harkon would never think to look, in all the time Serana had been in prison. Somewhere that would have been standing back then. Didn't leave a lot of options.
"Well, these things are always in the last place you look, aren't they?" Cicero said cheerfully. "Once Cicero's hat vanished and he spent hours and hours hunting all through Jorrvaskr for it, swearing that if Vilkas had taken it, Cicero would hit him, and no doubt annoying his brothers and sisters no end… and it turned up in his wardrobe, stuck down the back of a drawer! Foolish Cicero!" Cicero giggled and smiled gently at Serana. "Maybe the location of your mother and her Scroll will also turn out to be obvious."
"Cicero, sweetie, there's not going to be an Elder Scroll wedged behind the wardrobe at Castle Volkihar," Eola sighed, but at the mention of her childhood home, Serana had sat up, something occurring to her.
"Wait," Serana gasped. "It might be! I mean, not behind the wardrobe. But there was a garden once, a herb garden that my mother used to love tending to. Father could never see the point of it, of course. He's since torn down the part of the castle that used to lead to it. He's cut off an entire wing that way. No one goes that way any more. But there's plenty of old tunnels and cellars, and a secret set of docks to the west, and Mother was familiar with it all, far more than Father ever was. He'd never go there anyway, still less so after she left. He tore the linking tunnels down, shut off half his own castle because it reminded him of her. And she must have known he'd do it. He'd never think to look there for his Elder Scroll. It must be there! Or… some way to find it."
Delphine looked thoughtful, glancing at Eola.
"What do you think?" she asked. "Think it has promise?"
"It's worth a look," Eola said, considering this. "Gonna be dangerous though. If Harkon finds us… and that's not taking into consideration anything lurking in those tunnels. I'm willing to believe Serana though. Also it's the only lead we've got. Want us to check it out?"
"Yes," Delphine said, not hesitating… but not an idiot either. "But go to the royal court at Solitude first, tell Elisif everything. Madanach's there too, you'll need him to authorise a ReachGuard assault, and we definitely will need Matriarchs involved. Then make sure you let them know where you're going. Make contact with the Blades camp nearby as well. If you aren't back out of that castle within two days, they're to contact me or the High Queen. The disappearance of a Reach-Princess is grounds enough for the High Queen to investigate, and with your reports, Elisif will have no problem rallying the Jarls. Prophecy or no prophecy, even if we don't find Auriel's Bow, we're taking Harkon down."
No real disagreement from anyone at the table, and Serana lowered her head, accepting the inevitable. Delphine nodded, and meeting concluded, went to find Ralof so he could round up the Blades warriors, leaving two vampires and two werewolves… one of whom had just triggered the downfall of her own father.
"Are you all right?" Athis said quietly. "I didn't know Delphine would start planning an entire siege on your family home. I'm sorry."
"Don't be," Serana said, her voice quiet and soft, echoing in the cavernous main hall of the Blades headquarters. "We all knew it would come to this. My father won't listen to reason, he's not interested in peaceful co-existence. He wants his old kingdom back and he wants to rule as a vampire lord, with power over the sun itself. He'd… if he got his way, mortals would fight back and eventually they'd win, I think. Whatever happens, he's going to end up with human armies storming his castle and killing him. At least this way, it'll be quick. And a lot less innocent people are going to die. But thank you. All of you. It's good to have friends."
Eola stared at her, biting her lip, and then the next thing Serana knew, Eola had shoved Cicero off her lap, ignoring the outraged spluttering this elicited, and rushed round the table, dropping to her knees at Serana's side, about to go for the hug before stopping and just touching Serana's arm instead.
"Likewise," Eola said gently, smiling at Serana, and whatever fears she'd had over Athis leaving her, she'd forgiven Serana. "Whatever happens, I'm here for you."
"Thanks," Serana whispered. "I mean, you're coming with me, right? I don't even know if there'll be anything there, but we've got to look, right?"
"We will," Eola promised. "Come on, Princess. Let's go find your ma."
The long walk back to Markarth and this time, Eola took Serana's arm in hers and started chatting about her childhood and how she'd grown up in Karthspire when it was still a rebel Forsworn camp.
"So do you know why this land feels like it does then?" Serana asked and Eola just frowned.
"Feels like what?"
"Different," Serana said, shivering. "Sort of… twisted. Like the sort of place that would breed holy men and women… or fanatics. I think my father would like this place."
"He's welcome to try and claim it off mine but I warn you now, it won't go well," Eola said dryly. "Forsworn know a vampire when they see one, they'll notice his spies, and Kaie's on the alert for his people now. She'll be on the alert for people acting strangely too, and we know how to neutralise mind control. Mandatory singing of the Litany of Griselda three times a day for all ReachGuard and all Keep staff, and random singsongs every so often to ensure people aren't having mind control renewed somehow. Harkon might frighten some mortals but not us. We know our blood magic and most of us can cast fire."
"Yeah, I can tell," Serana said, suddenly looking about her with new eyes. "That's what I can sense, blood magic, woven into the very earth somehow. Gods, there's been so many battles round here, so many deaths over the years, the Veil's thinner than I've ever felt it, and someone, several someones, have been using that to weave magic into the land. Over and over and over – if you had a blood connection to the spirits here, you could do all sorts of things. And you people do, don't you."
"Oh we certainly do," Eola grinned. "Reach-magic's a style all of its own. Mainly because knowledge gained never really dies – not when the clan Matriarch can summon a spirit back to ask it questions. You know how lots of societies get embroiled in tiresome theological disputes over what ancestor or great writer or orator really meant when they said such and such a thing? We don't really have that. Anything like that starts up, Hags just summon their spirit back to question them. Settles an awful lot of things. Spirit says something we're OK with, matter is decided. Spirit says something clan doesn't like, spirit gets banished and we decide that particular ancestor wasn't so smart after all. Of course, it's also possible Hags just summon a particular familiar spirit to impersonate the ancestor in question and brief them in advance on what to do so as to promote social cohesion, but that works too."
"You – seriously?" Serana asked, curious despite herself. "I had no idea mortals were that understanding of magic."
"Most of them aren't," Eola said wryly. "And we're kinda controversial. But we're also the heroes who rescued the Dragonborn from unjust imprisonment and helped her end the civil war, so they're putting up with us."
"You're going to have to tell me a bit more about all this, it sounds… well, it sounds a little hard to believe," Serana said, preparing for a tale and a half. She wasn't wrong, as Eola launched into the story of how the Dragon-Queen of Solitude won her throne.
Meanwhile, Cicero had dropped back to keep Athis company, which mainly took the form of sidling up to him and staring up at him with big sorrowful eyes.
"Hello brother," Cicero whispered. "Cicero wished to know… Cicero wondered..." Cicero didn't finish the sentence, instead stopping to cuddle Athis, practically squeezing the breath from his lungs - if Athis had needed to breathe anymore, this might have been problematic. Even so though, his ribs were starting to bruise, he could feel it. So he settled for patting Cicero on the back then pushing him away, wondering what had got into him all of a sudden.
"I'm fine," Athis growled. "Getting used to sleeping during the day, got enough blood potions to see me through the month, plenty of people in the Reach seem to be on medications of one sort or another. This is not far different. It could be worse."
Cicero patted his arm, smiling sadly.
"That is good, brother, very good indeed, only that is not – not what Cicero meant. You spoke with Eola. But you two are not with each other now. You have barely spoken! She is upset! You are upset! Cicero is worried! Cicero is scared… Cicero likes having a brother! Cicero doesn't want you to split up!"
Of all the things to bother Cicero, Athis hadn't thought that would be it. He'd have expected Cicero to be indifferent, or possibly threatening him for breaking Eola's heart. He'd not expected crying and pleading from Cicero over a possible split with Cicero's wife. And yet here was Cicero, wringing his hands and visibly upset over the whole thing.
"Cicero, I'm not leaving Jorrvaskr," Athis sighed, hoping he wouldn't have to at any rate. "You'll still see me, and you can still talk to me."
"It is not the saaaaammmme!" Cicero wailed, clearly distraught. "Eola might be upset! Cicero would need to console her! It would be awkward! Bad! Wrong! Athis cannot leave sweet Eola, Athis cannot do this to poor Cicero!"
Which was all very well, but Athis wasn't staying in any relationship just to keep someone else happy.
"Cicero, she eats corpses in her beast form and doesn't see a problem with that, in fact I'm not entirely certain she doesn't do it in human form either," Athis sighed. "I don't know if I can stay with that! And she says she's trying to be a good person these days, which begs the question what she was doing before she met me! And… by Azura, you know, don't you? You knew all of this, probably did long before you ever married her. Doesn't it bother you?"
Cicero laughed nervously, going slightly pink, before shifting his features into that polite mask of his that could hide anything.
"Cicero does not judge his loved ones," Cicero said carefully. "Everyone has their flaws, don't they, brother?"
"Flaws is leaving your things everywhere or trimming your nails in the main hall!" Athis cried. "Not… not killing people and eating them! And that you don't seem to mind is… frankly worrying. Cicero, I've got to ask, what exactly were you a part of in Cyrodiil? What exactly did you do?"
If Cicero had looked a bit embarrassed before, now he looked frankly horrified, face going pale and eyes widening, before he hastily hid his true feelings with a suspiciously practised skill.
"Oh, but Athis is surely not interested in Cicero's youthful adventures!" Cicero cooed. "Athis does not need to know what Cicero got up to many many years ago."
Which meant there was definitely a past to be discussed then.
"I mean it, Cicero, what the actual fuck were you involved in?" Athis hissed. "It sure as Daedra wasn't something you can sing songs of round the fire at Jorrvaskr, I know that much. Was it some secret Imperial black ops unit or something?"
To his surprise, Cicero giggled and kept right on giggling before throwing his head back laughing.
"Oh that is funny, brother, that is hilarious!" Cicero laughed, cackling away like… well, like the little fool he was. Cicero laughed and dried his eyes and grinned.
"You know that were Cicero involved in such a thing, say a secret organisation that could not be talked of openly lest things be compromised, Cicero could not possibly say anything on the matter," Cicero said playfully. "Even if Cicero were retired, Cicero could still not speak lest he reveal something he should not. Cicero has done many things, most of which are better not spoken of."
"Such as?" Athis said irritably, a bit tired of the dancing. Imperials were known for being able to talk round a subject until the cows came home, but Cicero took it to extremes even for him.
Cicero's laughter faded, and Cicero tilted his head, sidling artfully closer with a crafty little smile on his face.
"Cicero did whatever the job required," Cicero said, voice soft and silky as he purred in Athis's ear. "Cicero did whatever was necessary. Cicero still does whatever is necessary; he has merely acquired new masters. You have the Dragonborn and the old and new Harbinger to thank for that. Now Cicero serves his High Queen and the downtrodden and needy of Skyrim. Mostly their needs are honourable. Mostly."
Cicero left the rest hanging as he stepped back, eyes not leaving Athis's, and Athis shivered as he realised behind the affection and squealing and camp flamboyancy lay a very dangerous man – well, he knew that. But it was one thing to know it, and quite another to feel it.
Athis had the answer he wanted at any rate – Cicero had led a life that was questionable at best and downright illegal at worst, and frankly should never have been allowed anywhere near the Companions in the first place. Why Kodlak had taken him in was a mystery… but he had, and thus far, Cicero had, if not led a spotless life, not had anything pinned on him that didn't involve the death of someone truly deserving. Athis couldn't call Cicero a good man… but he was a skilled and fearless fighter, and more than that, one loyal without question to those he called brother (or sister, and Athis suspected it was only a matter of time before Serana got similarly adopted).
Athis patted Cicero awkwardly on the back and smiled at him, hoping the nerves weren't too obvious.
"Yes, well, that was all a long time ago, wasn't it Cicero, and I'm sure you've moved on since those days," Athis said, feeling relief claim him as Cicero grinned and cackled in response. "I mean, no sense raking up the past, eh? Whatever happened is your business. Right now, you're a Companion of Jorrvaskr in good standing and that's the main thing, right?"
"Yes!" Cicero squealed. "Yes! I am, I am!" He tilted his head, still grinning. "This means you will not be abandoning sweet Eola?"
Athis had to think about that one, and truth be told, he still wasn't sure. But he stared ahead up at Eola, watching her describing a dragon fight in lurid detail, and felt his heart constrict. Something about her still couldn't help but draw him to her. He couldn't help but imagine kissing her, holding her, pushing her down and sinking his teeth into her…
He shoved the image away, appalled. He couldn't. He couldn't!
You could. Easily. Ever wondered what a princess's blood tastes like?
Athis felt vaguely revolted… and yet the wolf smell from Cicero reminded him of one thing – biting a werewolf would be the last thing he'd ever do as a vampire, and then he'd have other, hairier problems to deal with.
Maybe, just maybe, he was better off with a werewolf in his arms. Someone who'd make sure he'd never do it again if he did lose control.
"I'm still getting used to everything," Athis said, not wanting to commit himself just yet. But he did stop and put his arm round a surprised but delighted Cicero. "But I think you and I are all right. You are who you are. Just try not to stab any innocent people, all right?"
Cicero squealed and promised he wouldn't, he would stab only the guilty and the deserving. Which was something, Athis supposed. So he hugged Cicero, and listened patiently as Cicero enthused over what they'd find at Castle Volkihar, and if it would be very dangerous with lots of things trying to kill them, he hoped so anyway, it was going to be very exciting, didn't Athis think so, brother?
Athis did think so, although he did rather hope it wouldn't be quite as dangerous as Cicero thought. In that, he'd be quite wrong. But before that, the Royal Court of Solitude awaited… and an audience with the famous Dragon-Queen herself.