Redrawn in Red

Castle Volkihar

"Go on," Roë commanded her captain. "Don't stand there mincing words. Tell it like it is."

Fura pulled her mouth to one side in hesitation. "You're… not being entirely recognized as rightful ruler of the Castle." She winced, as if she feared to be struck dead on the spot.

"I said no mincing words," Roë raised her voice. "Speak clearly!"

The other vampire inhaled slowly and said, "They all see you as a usurper. As a petty tyrant. The executions didn't make them fall in line, quite the… contrary."

Frustration grew as Roë listened to Fura's report. She'd sent her to gauge the overall acceptance of her rulership, and the outcome was far from what she'd hoped. Even though she was sitting on the stone throne of Castle Volkihar's ruler, they still didn't recognize her as their Lady. "Do they understand what I'm trying to do, at least?"

"No," Fura said quietly. "They… they hate you."

"Ungrateful mongrels," Roë grunted to herself. Worthless bastards, to a man. She'd deposed the murderous tyrant they'd all hated, and not a word of thanks, not a scrap of recognition, just jealousy that they weren't the ones sitting on the throne. The public executions were supposed to make them shut up and do as they were told, but it seemed even harsher methods were in order. Her fingers played with Auriel's Bow, draped over the back of her throne.

These weak-bloods would listen, even if she had to destroy them all and create her entire court anew. Fura at least was somewhat loyal, although Roë suspected the bitch of plotting against her all the same.

"Perhaps…" her chief of security said carefully, "a display of kindness and understanding would go a long way toward – "

"Is that all you can say?" Roë bit at her. "Kindness and understanding? This is a vampiric court, not a damn nursery! They disrespect me, and you want me to be kind? The minute I show these mutts any kind of weakness, they'll pounce and tear me apart."

"Forget I said anything," Fura merely muttered. "There is… one more thing."

"Ugh. Go on, what else?"

"There's talk among the nobles. They're thinking of…" she cleared her throat, "… overthrowing you and reinstating Lady Serana."

"Serana?" Roë blurted out. "Serana had her chance! She could have ruled at my side! Instead, she tried to murder me. Have you all forgotten that? Serana tried to murder me, her best friend. And that's the person you want to see on this throne?"

Fura held up her hands. "I'm only saying what I've heard. I'm not a part of it."

"Sure you aren't." Everyone had betrayed her, or was about to. This bitch was no different, with her squeaky voice and her ridiculous accent. "Get out of here."

"Lady Roë…"

"What?"

"Maybe I'm making a mistake, but… I have to say this. You got me out of the sun pit, you risked yourself to help me when no one else would, and I'm thankful for it, but…"

"But what? Spit it out!"

"You're starting to frighten me."

"Good!" Roë snapped at her. "Because apparently fear is the only way to command respect from you people."

Fura shook her head and continued, though visibly uncomfortable. "I respected you more when you were reasonable and caring."

Ugh, how could they not see? Why did they think she didn't care? "Fura," she said with a sigh. "I do care. But you're all making it impossible for me to show it. It feels like… the moment I show any emotion, they'll all set their fangs into my throat."

"I'm just saying, if I may, and I know it isn't my place…"

"It isn't, but go on."

"… trying to control these nobles through force and terror is going to end badly."

"Nonsense," Roë grunted. "They need to be shown who's in charge. And the only thing they respect is strength."

"It's been weeks, Lady Roë," Fura insisted. "Weeks of intimidation, weeks of torture, weeks of executions. Yes, they were traitors, but – "

"They got what they deserved."

"Yes, but after all this time, there are still those who would betray you. What does that tell you?"

"It tells me," Roë said, rising from her throne and stepping towards Fura, "that I need to be more thorough. I can't show any kindness or friendship as long as these traitors aren't weeded out. When that's done, I can be the merciful and encouraging leader I want to be. But not before."

"I just – "

"No. Enough talking. You have rounds to make."

Fura's eyes flashed and she jerked the hounds' leashes. "Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you."

"Watch your mouth, Fura! Remember your place!"

The insolent bitch just turned and left. What had she done to deserve such animosity? If they'd only given her a fair chance from the start, instead of immediately forcing her hand, immediately giving her no other choice than to secure her leadership through fear, they would have seen her for the noble and wise ruler that she wanted to be.

They were angry about being ruled through fear, but they'd caused this situation, not her. Or was an assassination attempt on her second night of rulership not a clear declaration of war? And what of the attempt to steal Auriel's Bow two nights after? They were trying to steal it to use it against her, that much was obvious. The three conspirators had met their end on a blazing pyre, and that seemed to have only encouraged the treacherous bastards to double their efforts. They'd become more careful and more patient, but they still plotted and connived. Even those who pretended to be loyal. Probably even Fura.

All she'd wanted was to be seen as a noble and wise ruler. Why couldn't she be that person? Why did they all hate her?

"Roë. I need to talk to you."

She knew the voice, right away. She raised her head and saw Serana standing in the doorway.

"Who let you in here, traitor?" she growled. "I thought I told you to never come back here again."

"And yet," Serana said, coming closer, "here I am. Nobody tried to stop me. Nobody did even the smallest thing to keep me from coming in here, even though you told them the exact opposite."

"That's because they're all traitors who want to use you to get to me."

"There's something I want to say, Roë, and please believe me when I say it's because I care about you," Serana said gently, doubtless to play on Roë's emotions, to lull her into dropping her guard. It wouldn't work.

"Then speak before I lose my patience."

"I've come to make you an offer. A chance to stop what's about to happen."

"I'll indulge you, but stop beating about the bush."

Serana sighed and looked down at her feet, in a false display of meekness. "If you step down voluntarily, I guarantee you will be allowed to leave here unharmed. And I… swear I will once again offer you my friendship. That I will find a way, together with you, to heal the wounds inside your head and your soul."

"Your friendship? Please," Roë scoffed, "Don't offer me consolation prizes out of pity."

"It's not pity," Serana lied. "I've done you wrong, Roë. I… made hasty decisions, lost sight of my own responsibility and how I failed to take it. I want to make up for it." She looked up again, her blazing eyes set on Roë's. "It's the truth. I'm laying my heart bare for you here, and it's a really scary thing to do."

Did she mean it? Was she sincere? Perhaps she was. Roë knew she wasn't, but perhaps, if she gave her a chance… Maybe if Roë fooled herself enough, somehow it would become true. What if Serana was being honest and not trying to deceive her? She knew it wasn't true, but… the bitter illusion of hope did make her doubt.

Serana held out her hand. "Come with me, Roë. Come with me and we can make all this become well again."

She wasn't convinced, much as she wanted to be. "And I need to step down for this? Why? Can't we simply be friends while I still rule this Castle?"

"No, Roë. We can't. As long as you feel you have a position of power to protect, things will keep getting worse. I've heard... horrible things, Roë. Things the Roë I knew would never have been capable of."

Great. The traitors had already filled her head with slander. "What have you heard? Please. Indulge me."

"Terrible things, Roë." Serana was putting on a very convincing act. A bit too convincing for Roë to dismiss it out of hand as such. "You've massacred the Dawnguard. In a… gruesome way."

"Exaggerations," Roë scoffed. "I did what needed to be done. There is no clean and painless way to stop a group of fanatics from burning you alive."

"Not just that. That you… burn vampires at the stake."

"Traitorous vampires," Roë corrected. "Assassins who tried to murder me in my sleep."

"Worse things too. That you… do terrible things to slaves. Degrade them, torture them, make them… do things to each other. Perverted, twisted things. Violations, brutalities, murders… incest. Things that make me nauseous, Roë."

"And you believe those things?" Roë shouted. "A bunch of ungrateful, power-hungry would-be usurpers come to tell you disgusting things about me and you just believe them? I thought you were intelligent, Serana!"

"It doesn't matter, Roë. Whether or not they're true, they hate you enough to tell these horrible things about you. That hate doesn't just come from out of nowhere. I want you to step down, not just to protect you from yourself, but to protect you from these creatures as well."

"And if I step down? Let's talk about that, purely for the sake of the argument. If I step down, then who takes my place? I suppose you, in your selfless magnanimity, would be prepared to shoulder the heavy burden, wouldn't you?"

She had to admit, "Perhaps. If the nobles would have me."

It was all becoming clear. This was her ploy all along. She'd almost been fooled. "The nobles who summoned you here? Those nobles?" She shook her head. "Serana, you were close, but I see this whole spectacle for what it truly is now. You're on their side. And they don't want me to step down peacefully, even if I was prepared to." She'd almost fallen into the trap, but she'd caught on just in time. "I don't know if you're actively scheming with them, or they're just using you as a patsy, but if I listen to you, I will end up torn apart by these scavengers."

"Roë, I'm not here because the nobles – "

"Stop lying," Roë shouted, jabbing a finger at her. "You almost had me fooled, but I won't listen to your lies any further. Out of respect for our once-friendship, I'll let you leave here alive, but you had better be gone before I change my mind."

"Roë, please, this is your last chance – "

"Get out!" Roë snarled. "Stop insulting me with your lies! Out!"

Serana lowered her head. "I tried, Roë, I really did. I'm sorry." She reached for the door and slowly opened it, but showed no intention of leaving.

Instead, another person walked in.

"Should have listened when you had the chance."

The person who'd stepped through the door was a human woman, with messy long blonde hair, its colour pale and dull like all human hair colours. She wore bulky armour made of bones, and held a curved, jagged sword in one hand and a bone shield in the other.

Roë knew who this was. She'd dreaded the confrontation, but had known it would happen eventually. This was the only person who might still be a threat to her.

Might be.

Because even the Dragonborn didn't have the odds in her favour when going up against the Lady of all Vampires.

"So," Roë said to Serana. "You've thrown in with the Dawnguard. Couldn't kill me yourself, so you figured you'd conspire with the enemy of everything we stand for."

"It's not like that," Serana said quietly.

"So," the blonde woman said, coming closer. She was disgustingly confident. "This is the Vampire Lady I've been hearing such despicable things about."

Roë leaned back on her throne, giving the weak human a sneer of disdain. "Funny, I haven't heard a thing about you."

"No need," the woman said. "I let my actions speak for me."

"I assume you've come here to try and kill me," Roë said, making sure she sounded properly amused. "Well, I won't stop you from committing suicide, if that's what you want." Roë knew the fight wouldn't be easy for her, but she also knew that if she held nothing back, she would prevail against this peasant. The Dovahkiin's legend would end here.

"Why do you villainous overlords always carry yourselves with that rotten air of overconfidence?" the woman asked. "It's a horrible cliché, and you always end up looking like fools because of it. Well, just before you die."

Roë rolled her eyes. "I'm not interested in vapid trash talk. Why are you even here?"

"Because you're insane. Because you're going to set the entire world on fire if you're not stopped. Because you massacred the Dawnguard, right when I was close to ending the eternal war between them and us. They were the enemy, but they were good people. Many were my friends, and you butchered them like animals."

"It was self-defence," Roë said dismissively. "If they'd left us alone – "

"They would have, if you hadn't slaughtered them all!" the woman shouted. "They were misguided, but Nine damn it, they didn't deserve to be torn apart like dogs!"

This self-righteous cack was boring Roë to tears. "Please. Spare me the platitudes. If you want to meet your Dawnguard friends, then let's get on with it."

The Nord banged her sword against her shield. "Gladly."

"Just one thing. Fura!"

After a brief moment of silence, the vampire slowly crept into the throne room, the hounds at their leashes.

"You," Roë snapped, pointing at Serana, "You stay out of it this time, or there will be no mercy. Fura, see to it."

Serana pleaded, "Arska, wait. Roë, you can still – "

"No!" the Nord woman interrupted her. "You begged me to let you try and talk her out of it, you did, she wouldn't listen. You had your chance."

"You make it sound", Roë smirked, "as if I'm the one whose life would have been saved if I'd stepped down."

"One of us dies here," the Dragonborn growled. "For the good of all the world, it has to be you."

Roë stood up from her throne and flexed her fingers. "Bring it, worm."

The Dragonborn raised her ugly blade and charged at Roë with a roar, clearly intent on finishing the fight quickly, before she could shift. But even without her Vampire Lady form, Roë still wasn't a pushover. She dodged the stab, even quick as it was, and commanded her body to reform itself.

Bones broke, skin tore, and in the gruesome agony she had come to know by now, her clothes ripped off her as she became the glorious monster whose form now only she could assume.

The Dragonborn had recovered from her clumsy charge and swung her blade again, but Roë pulled out of reach, floating above the ground.

"Fus… Ro Dah!"

Roë was buffeted by staggering force, thrown backward, her back hitting the wall, the vestiges of her wings crumpling between her and the stone.

The Dragonborn stood wide-legged and hunched, as if to recover from the effort of her shout, and Roë leapt at her, her claws slicing through the air and striking the low-born bitch in the shoulder so hard one of her bone pauldrons was torn off, flying through the air. The Dragonborn staggered from the blow, even though the pauldron had absorbed the brunt of the strike before flying off.

Roë lunged again, but the Dovahkiin was quicker, driving her sword into Roë's abdomen to the hilt. Roë roared as she felt her insides being impaled, the jagged edge sliding into her with gruesome ease. She kicked out, her mighty leg sending Arska flying, her sword in her hand long enough to be pulled out before sailing through the air.

With all her willpower, Roë healed the terrible wound transfixing her, and advanced on the Dragonborn, who was scrambling to her feet, her blade beyond her reach. "It's the end of the line for you, Dragonborn," Roë roared in the distorted voice of her monstrous form.

She raised her leg to stomp the woman flat, but she rolled out of the way, her claw smacking into the stone. The Dovahkiin dodged one claw swipe, then another, retreating to the double doors that led to the great hall.

"You're not getting away," Roë roared.

The Dragonborn fell back, keeping out of reach of Roë's claws until her back was against the doors. Then she looked past Roë, her face desperate, sweaty blonde hair hanging over it.

"Raan Mir Tah!" she shouted, and Roë braced for another gust of force, but she felt nothing this time. Her power was already spent. This Dragonborn had been all talk, and now it was time for her to die.

Roë swiped again, but Arska threw herself backward, again dodging and rolling deftly back to her feet. No matter. Roë had preferred to tear her apart with her bare claws, but the Vampire Lady had more at her disposal than mere brute force.

Her upper lip peeling back, she extended her hand and hooked it into a claw. The other woman tried to move, but Roë's power held her fast. A line of red mist began to form, and despair slowly etched the Nord's features as her lifeblood began to swirl in the air, droplets so fine they passed through her pores and into the air.

Too bad, Dragonborn, you thought you were going to make a show of being the conquering victor, and you weren't even a challenge. She saw the terror and despair in the woman's eyes, and relished every moment of it, knowing this bitch hadn't felt this kind of fear in a very, very long time. And she would never feel it again after this.

Briefly, almost too short to realize, Roë looked into the other woman's eyes, wide with despair, determined not to beg or plead, but doing it all the same, and she felt sorry for her. Her lifeblood was being wrenched from her, and she would die drained and sucked dry, her carcass fed to Fura's hounds, the beast tearing the chunks of her flesh apart, reducing her to meat, bones and bowels.

The woman's eyes – the girl's eyes, really, she was no older than twenty-five – begged her to stop, even though the person owning them would never do so herself. It was the moment she realized that she wasn't immortal, that she wasn't a legend, but that she would die painfully and shamefully, like any other mortal.

And with this woman destroyed, nothing would stand in the way of –

It was as if her body was blown violently apart, unimaginable pain blasting through her. She howled, her body bucking and spasming, the world reduced to nothing but pure, mind-breaking agony.

Torn and paralyzed in obliterating pain, she managed to look down and saw the bright light protruding from her abdomen, a shaft so luminous it burned her eyes to look at it. Her bones broke and crunched again, but she didn't even feel them. The entire world was nothing but blinding, searing pain.

As she returned to her human form, the fading arrow of light was ejected from her body, and her bleeding eyes turned to see Serana standing behind her, holding Auriel's Bow, the string no longer pulled.

Her consciousness lapsed, fading in and out, and she was only faintly aware of a force grabbing her by the hair and pulling, dragging her out of the throne room, through the double doors and into the great hall.

"Arska," she heard Serana call, miles away, "Call off the hounds, they're tearing Fura apart."

"So?" a voice came back, closer by but still infinitely far away. "Not my problem."

"She was only doing as she was told! Call them off!"

"… Fine."

Roë felt her knees being scraped open as she was dragged over the stone, her muscles still utterly powerless. Her arms reflexively slapped at the fingers holding her hair, but they were feeble swats.

Through blurred vision, she saw all the vampires assembled in the great hall, looking at her on the balcony, being dragged forward by the Dragonborn.

Her eyesight still spun, but it began to clear. Her muscles still didn't listen to her, it was as if she was paralyzed. Her sensation returned as well, as did the feeling of the air on her skin, and she realized that she was entirely naked.

The faces of the vampires looking up at her were filled with glee and cruelty. They'd even brought the prisoners upstairs to watch, their filthy eyes fixed on her bare skin.

She felt a hard kick in the back of her legs. "Get on your knees!" Her kneecaps cracked as they struck the ground, the open skin bleeding on the cold stone. The Dovahkiin had put her up for display at the top of the stairs.

"St… stop this, I…" she managed to beg, but she fell quiet when the Dragonborn set the tip of her jagged blade against her lower abdomen.

"Here's what's going to happen," the woman hissed through clenched teeth, but loud enough for the entire great hall to hear. "I'm going to gut you right here, right in front of everyone. Give them a sight they'll enjoy and talk about for years to come." She chuckled hoarsely. "Because the sight they've got right now isn't much to look at." With a snort, she added, "Tits that small and they still managed to be uneven."

Roë heard quiet laughing coming from the vampires. "Please… I don't…"

"Be quiet."

Roë felt her hair being twisted in the woman's fist and pulled up, just far enough for her knees to still touch the ground, but her arms flailed for balance.

"Maybe I should make it even better for them," the Dragonborn said cruelly. "Maybe I shouldn't start cutting so high. I could place my sword even lower than your belly. There's a good spot down there for the tip of my sword to…" Roë heard the women whisper in her ear, "… hook into."

She broke, red tears falling from her eyes. She knew she was going to die, that it was over for her, and her pride and dignity no longer mattered. All she wanted was for it to be over. "Please no, please, not that. Please, just kill me and get it over with."

"Oh, I'll kill you… eventually. First, all your loyal subjects are going to enjoy the sight of your stinking, rotten guts sliding down the stairs. They're going to hear your gurgling, see your twisted face as you slowly die. It'll reawaken feelings in them they thought they no longer had."

"Enough."

Serana's voice could bring salvation.

"Arska, enough."

"Oh no," the Dovahkiin chortled. "Nowhere near enough."

Serana came to stand next to the Dragonborn, holding Fura, whose legs were torn, bleeding shreds of flesh draped over white bone. The hounds looked up at their mistress, their eyes full of guilt. Fura moved, but only barely. It didn't matter anymore to Roë.

"Arska. Don't do this," Serana pleaded. "You don't know her like I do. I agree she has to be stopped, but she's not a bad person. Or wasn't, until the blood corrupted her."

Roë still couldn't move, only watch the events and hope the Dragonborn would find her heart.

"Really?" the Dragonborn snarled. "Then why are you and I not twisted and evil butchers like this bitch here?"

Now Roë realized, and now she noticed the fangs in the Dragonborn's mouth. She was like them. But she realized it didn't matter anymore.

"What you're about to do right now is pretty much twisted and evil butchering, Arska."

The grip on Roë's hair tightened and for a moment, time stopped. Roë could only endure the gleeful eyes of the vampires and prisoners, and hope Serana could convince this woman to be merciful.

"Gut the bitch!" one of the vampires shouted, and Serana immediately raised the Bow and pulled its string.

"I still value Roë more than any of you," Serana warned them. "So don't provoke me!"

"Arska…" Roë managed to plead, "Please… listen to Serana, I… I don't deserve this." Fresh tears of blood streamed down her cheeks. "I tried to be a good person. I tried to stop myself from going insane." Because what she'd done had been insane, she realized that now, too late. "I don't deserve this."

"She's broken, Arska," Serana said quietly. "You can't break her any further, you can only surrender to the same madness you're about to kill her for. I won't let you do this to her, and I won't let you do this to yourself."

The Dragonborn hesitated. "She dies here. Nothing changes that."

"Arska – "

"No! She dies here."

"Then… at least make it quick," Serana said, closing her eyes. "Don't make the same mistake she did."

Roë already knew it was over for her. All she could do was hope the woman didn't put her through horrible suffering and indignity.

The Dragonborn breathed hard through her nose, but not because she needed the air. "Fine." Roë let out a short gurgle when she felt a foot being set against the back of her neck, her hair pulled backward. "You're lucky Serana takes pity on you, because you wouldn't have gotten any from me."

Roë felt relief and terror at the same time. She was going to die here, going to be executed in front of everyone. What would wait for her after this? Would there even be anything? She was terrified of dying, but at the same time, she wanted it to be over.

"Wait, Arska, I… need to say something," Serana stopped her, kneeling by Roë. "Roë… I'm sorry. I should have taken my responsibility. My father gave you too much power, too fast. I tried to guide you, but I gave up on you when you needed me hardest. It's too late now, but Roë, please believe me, I'm sorry. So sorry."

Roë could only croak, "I'm sorry too."

She felt the sharp edge of the sword being placed against the side of her neck.

More tears came, and she begged Serana, "Please, Serana, don't look. Close your eyes. I don't want you to see… what's going to happen."

Serana did as Roë asked, turning away with her eyes shut.

"Any last words?" Roë heard the voice of the Dovahkiin. "Make it quick."

There was nothing left to say, except, "Serana… all I ever wanted was you."

The pain only lasted for a brief moment, then Roë felt nothing.

In front of all the vampires that had despised her so much, her dead body, its muscles no longer receiving instructions from her brain, fell forward down the stairs. It smacked into the steps and made a single tumble before landing on the ground, its legs falling open, exposing its intimacy. It twitched on the ground as Roë's heart, still for so long, began to contract in its death throes, the blood pumping out of her severed neck in rhythmic, obscene spurts.

Her head was being held aloft by its hair, her face going slack in the gruesome way only dead faces could, as more blood rained down on the stones.

Yet, her last moments were peaceful. In the last moments her head, now disembodied and hanging by its hair, still lived, Roë was far away, back in Solitude, sitting at a table near the fireplace in the Winking Skeever, the inn packed with people, the smell of pipe smoke and beer in the air. She was there with Gethor and Kunod, draining her mug full of cold ale, listening to a completely flat-drunk Gethor sing dirty songs about Argonian females, Corpulus the owner hyucking with laughter.

Her last thought was of raising her mug and shouting for Corpulus to fill them up one more time.