"They're coming! They're coming!" The sentries shouted. The phrase echoed throughout the fort like some crazed mantra. The alarms pealed in the dead of the night and people scrambled to meet in the main chamber of the fort.
Serana found him in his rooms, watching as he strapped his armor on with practiced ease.
"That doesn't look like Nightingale." she commented as he took off the chest piece and revealed the naked flesh from underneath. His skin was evenly tanned from the sun and his muscles rippled when he picked up the new set of armor.
"No, I needed something a little bit more durable for this fight." He struggled to lift the armor over his head and Serana came to his side to help. He felt her smooth digits brush across his skin and goosebumps broke out across his flesh. A shiver crept up his spine.
"What kind is it?" asked Serana once they had gotten it on him. He turned and for once realized how close in his proximity she was. He could feel the slight chill she radiated and could count every one of her eyelashes. He cleared his throat. "Dragonbone."
Serana looked at him and her dark red lips parted as if she was going to say something important, but instead, "We should probably get down to the chamber."
He wondered at the sinking feeling in his gut, but nodded. "Right."
Down in the chamber, they found Isran staring grimly from where the rest of them were gathered before he turned to Whitland. "This was your idea and most of the people are here to follow you anyways." he said gruffly. "You can take the reins."
Gunmar could laugh even at a time like this. The bear like man trudged over to his side and whispered conspiratorially to him while Isran's back was turned. "He means to say that most of the people here refuse to listen to him and will only follow your orders." The smith chuckled at his startled expression. Gunmar winked at him before slipping back into the mob of people that made up the chamber.
Whitland blinked. Even if held at knifepoint, he never expected Isran to give anyone command. The man's stubbornness would be the death of him, and he couldn't fathom the idea of Isran even considering giving his authority to one of the new recruits. Serana nudged him out of his stupor and he snapped quickly to attention.
"Vipir, Niruin, and the recruit, head upstairs to the top of the battlements and rain hell on those vampires." His voice rung as sharp as metal being drawn from its sheath. The trio of thieves grinned and Vipir even gave a mocking salute before bidding his orders.
Whitland eyed the members of the Dawnguard. "I want two of you to go with them and be ready to help if those bloodsuckers manage to storm the fort. Lend a hand if you have a crossbow." Durak and Ingjard were the first ones to volunteer and followed the thieves' up to the rooftop.
He faced the mages. "You five will spread out in the attack. I want two of you to act as healers and the rest to kill as many vampires as you can. Try not to hurt anyone on our side with your magic. Focus on using fire spells and conjure as much creatures or undead as you can."
He addressed everyone else. "The rest of you go out outside and get ready to slaughter those bloodsuckers! At all costs, make sure they do not get their hands on Auriel's bow. This is our stand and the sun will be lighting our triumph when this battle is over. Now go! For Skyrim! For Fort Dawnguard! We taste battle!" The assembly roared and brandished their weapons. They rushed through the double doors and out to the front of the fort.
He remained rooted to the spot as the eager mass brushed past him in a flurry of drawn weapons and battle cries. Serana and Elvyr lingered behind. Soon, only the three of them were left in the dimly lit hall. The three of them each shared a long look, a look that expressed all that they didn't dare say out loud, before they marched side by side out of the fort to face the incoming threat.
Outside, Whitland surveyed their surroundings with a solemn expression. It was like a curtain had been pulled across the sky, leaving them in complete darkness except for the lone moon that shone as a beacon in the night. The vampires had picked the ideal time to attack when they were at their strongest. It was a less than encouraging omen.
A quietness seemed to hang in the air that would be deafening if not for the fidgeting noises that their motley band made as if fearing the condemning silence. His form was rigid and straight as a floorboard as he searched for some sort of sign.
A sudden hiss cut through the silence and the canyon was soon echoing with the noise. The hairs on the back of his neck rose as howls joined in. Death Hounds. He squinted into the black of the night but it was useless.
Then they were here.
In a blink of an eye, he could see their forms steadily approach. Their eyes burned a fiery hell and promised pain. Their lips were spread wide in a cannibalistic grin with their fangs hanging hungrily out of their mouth. Those fangs could tear through human skin as easily as a knife through butter. Death Hounds darted around them; their irises the color of spilled blood.
To their credit, their ragtag army stood their ground, but none could be blamed if they gave a bit of a shiver in fright.
"I'm glad were not enemies." he murmured to Serana.
She held in a laugh that more likely came from nerves than amusement. "Me too." she whispered back.
The vampires were almost at the wooden gates. A blur of arrows and bolts streaked through the air and snarls of pain were heard. Whitland drew his blade.
"Attack!" he roared.
With a cry, their army charged through the gates at the enemy and its dogs. Red flashes of light erupted into the darkness and shafts fell from the sky in a maddening frenzy. It was utter chaos and he lost Serana and Elvyr's forms in the darkness. He went to look for them, but with only the telltale warning of yellow or red, he was overwhelmed. He blindly attacked into the night and a whimper was heard. Claws materialized out of the darkness and he nursed a scratch on the head before his foe fell with a resounding thump. He moved on.
At the will of a mage, balls of fire spluttered into existence. The flames licked greedily at its target and vampires' screeched in agony as they were burnt alive. Their surroundings were lit for a few precious seconds and Whitland concentrated on hacking their enemy to scraps.
The fire eventually died and they were plunged back into the darkness. Swiping at the blood that oozed into his eyes from his wound, he growled and barely managed to dodge a set of fangs. He swung wildly into the direction they came from and his weapon met something hard with a satisfying whack and a sharp hiss.
Screams were heard through the black of the night and the sound twisted painfully in his heart. They couldn't last long out here without any light. "Mages!" he shouted. His thu'um rose above the noise of the battle, "Use magelight!"
In response, flits of light started gluing to people's bodies and lighting up their surroundings. The rain of arrows that had been hurting friend and foe began to hit with devastating accuracy. Satisfied, he surveyed the rest of the battlefield.
His eyes widened. There was so many of them. A never-ending column of vampires and hounds swarmed all around them, one to be cut down, but only for another to take its place. He needed to end this fast, but he couldn't find Harkon in the mass of limbs and bodies.
He was punished for his small break from battle. Three Death Hounds had started circling him and pounced now that their prey was aware. Their claws dug into his armor and he toppled to the ground. His form was near invisible from the black bodies that had attached themselves to him. Blood from his head wound trickled into his eyes, and a red film coated his vision until all he could make out were dark shadowy forms.
He managed to wipe at his face and his sight met a pair of murderous eyes just as the dog decided to lunge. By luck alone, he managed to hold it back by the collar around its neck. The hound snarled and snapped at his face and its body shook with its rage and power. Canines inched a tiny bit closer to his throat. He grunted as the others found chinks in his armor and punctured his skin with their razor nails and teeth. His grip weakened. Canines inched forward some more.
Just as its jaws were about to rip into his throat, there was a whimper, and the pain on his side was relieved. A moment later, a shard of ice split the middle of the hound to his right. He smiled. Finally digging up the strength, he threw the dog off of him and killed the demon with a flick of his sword. The hound's eyes no longer glowed, but its mouth was still grinning madly even in death. Suppressing a shiver at the nightmarish scene, he turned to find Serana running up to meet him.
The vampire smirked at him, but concern emitted from her radiant eyes as she took in his appearance. Honestly, he wasn't looking his best. His armor was bathed in an onslaught of blood that wasn't even all his and the cut on his forehead was an ugly monster of its own right. But Serana knew that this wasn't the time or place to make him tend to his wounds and call him a thick headed idiot.
She sidled up next to him. "It seemed like you needed a hand." said Serana, gesturing to the dead bodies of the hounds.
He huffed, but smiled at her gratefully. "Me? Please, I had this all under control."
She smiled, but the look faded to a more serious one. She motioned to the battle all around them. "How are we going to defeat them all?"
He sighed. "I'm sure we'll find a way, but I can't seem to find your father. I don't think he's here."
Serana cursed softly. "Of course he's not. He's too much of a coward and sent everyone else to do his dirty work while he stays safely in his castle without a care in the world."
"Hey," he said and he gathered her in his arms, "It's okay, we'll get through this together, all right? I promise." He began to sway in place and rub circles soothingly into the back of her armor. Serana seemed to relax and the tension leaked out of her body. He rested his chin on the top of her head and it seemed like none of the chaos around them could touch them.
The moment ended when Serana pulled away and spared him a weak smile. Her hand rose and with a feather light touch, traced the cut on his head. "You should have worn a helmet." she said quietly.
He shrugged. "Should of, but didn't. You can tell me how stupid that was later, but I believe we need to show these vampires and hounds a few lessons in death that they've failed to notice."
Serana raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And that is?"
"That a vampire and Dragonborn are about to send them to their early graves," he paused to consider his words, "For good."
"You mean Dragonborn, Arch-Mage, Harbinger, Legate, and Thieves Guild Master?"
He smiled and shrugged. "I didn't want to put you out."
Serana made a 'hmmph' noise in the back of her throat. "I think Dragonborn that you'll find that I am quite hard to impress."
"Is that a challenge?"
"More of a statement of fact."
"We'll see about that."
The two dove back together into battle and the sight of the pair assured death would soon be incoming. The duo found Elvyr surrounded by a ring of vampires, but the Nord seemed to be fairing well on his own. All the same, they cut a path to his side and the three took on the group together.
"There's too many of them." Elvyr grunted as he planted his greatsword in the flesh of a vampire. The creature's eyes rolled to the back of its head and the blade was lathered in blood when the Nord heaved his sword out from the corpse. The other vampires hissed in feverish delight and gathered even tighter around the three. The deaths of their own only seemed to amplify the creatures' fervent desire for blood.
It took Whitland a minute to reply as he held off a few vampires with his shield. "I know that." he growled. Bracing himself, he bashed their skulls in and stabbed the vampires through with his blade.
"Any shouts you could use?" asked the Nord while he threw a knife at the chest of a hound. The dog slumped to the ground. "Maybe call up a storm again?"
"Can't. Too many of us out here. It would probably hurt some of our own."
A new surge of vampires and hounds kept them too busy to talk. Whitland focused on only the sound of blade against blade and the snap of teeth. The pressure let up some when Serana reanimated a corpse to help fight, but it wasn't enough. They were slowly being overwhelmed.
"Please tell me you have a trick up your sleeve." Serana said from behind him. The three of them were standing back to back.
He turned to give her a wink. "Now that you mention it, Florentius taught me a spell I've been wanting to try out."
Sheathing his weapon, he closed his eyes and made a vague motion with his hands. His gauntlets glowed in a golden light. His eyes shot open and he released the spell. A miniature sun flew from his hands into a flock of vampires and exploded in a flash of light. The creatures shrieked and most fell over dead. That was all it took for the remainder of the force to break apart, and they picked the rest off with ease.
Whitland struck his blade through the ground and leaned on it heavily as they took a much needed rest from battle. His arms were starting to feel heavy and it took a conscious effort to move so much as an inch. The blood from his wounds had crusted over, but he could feel every individual sore and pain with each pound of his heart. In a way, the pain was reassuring by reminding him he was still alive and fighting.
Elvyr came to stand next to him and the two studied the battlefield. Whitland watched with hooded eyes as a man took down a vampire, but only at the cost of two of his companions' lives. They were losing. Their numbers just couldn't compete. He sighed.
Elvyr shifted at his side and spoke. "Is there anything you can do?" Whitland looked at him and then up into the sky. It was only a couple more hours until the sun rose and the vampires' strength would be greatly weakened. They just needed to buy some time to last until then. Gazing at the sky, he felt a new drive build inside him and straightened up.
"I think I know someone who could help." he said with the beginnings of a smile.
Elvyr and Serana exchanged looks. They couldn't just exactly up and leave the battle to go fetch this person, wherever they were, but before they could question his sanity, Whitland took a deep breath. He shouted.
"OD-AH-VIING!"
Nothing happened.
"I don't-" Elvyr started, but then an answering roar filled the air and the shape of a dragon broke through the skies. The red beast landed and the earth quaked from the impact. His crimson eyes examined his surroundings before making a grating noise in his throat. Whitland recognized it as chuckling.
The dragon turned towards him with a feral smile. "Drem Yol Lok Dovahkiin, I see that you have brought me to Grah, or battle as you say." he rumbled.
Whitland wasted no time in explaining the situation. "I need your help, Odahviing. We fight vampires and Death Hounds and their numbers are against us. We need your fire. We need your claws and teeth. Will you fight with us?"
A puff of smoke escaped his snout. "Geh, Of course, I am dovah." Without another word, Odahviing launched himself into the air and soared over their group.
"Ag! Aus! Dir!" The dragon bellowed before releasing a barrel of flames. Snarls and screams were heard as the mighty hunter roasted his foes alive. A cheer went up from the Dawnguard and its fighters and they all fought with a renewed vigor.
Whitland turned to face Elvyr and Serana. The two were as dumbfounded as when he had shouted up a storm. "Well that should do it." he said dryly and drew his sword from out of the ground. "Let's go join the fun, shall we?" Without waiting for an answer, he sprinted over to add to the chaos. He grinned when he heard their startled cries and beheaded a thrall.
He heard a hiss and whirled around to find another one of the bloodsuckers, but the creature fell down with a blade protruding out of his back. He looked up to find Elvyr's grin mirroring his own with Serana not far behind. He retreated back to her side. "I believe I won our little challenge earlier." he yelled over the clamor of battle. She just rolled her eyes and smiled.
The battle drew on and all the while the sky continued to lighten. The constant fuel to his energy was only the timing of the sun, just a little longer, he thought. But no one's body, not even the fabled Dragonborn's, could endure much more. They had been fighting for hours and a body could only take so much abuse. His muscles screamed in protest every time he lifted his sword and his armor took most of the blows instead of his shield.
Cut. Stab. Hiss. Howl. Those were the only sounds that mattered anymore and meant anything inside his sleep deprived brain. He couldn't tell if they were winning or losing, if the sky was lighter than before, or even if he was still standing. He no longer lived, but survived in this new state of mind.
Cut. Stab. Hiss. Howl. On and on it went. A part of him forgot if Serana or Elvyr were by him.
He dragged through the motions, down went another. He lacked feeling in his arms and his vision continued to darken, but he pushed away his fatigue and fell deeper in his frame of mind. He saw flames descend towards him, but he simply welcomed the warmth they brought and went on. Three more fell and didn't get up. Sweat covered every inch of his body. His arm went down. A hound dropped to the ground.
He searched for another opponent and his eyes locked with a vampire. It exposed its fangs at what it was sure to be thinking as easy prey. Whitland watched numbly as his arm let go of his shield. It clattered to the ground and his arm dangled uselessly by his side. He didn't bother trying to pick it back up. The vampire slithered closer and lunged. He sidestepped the attack and cut its arm. The creature snarled and struck him with its dagger.
Whitland grunted when it found an opening in his armor where his ribs would be. The vampire eyes lit up with delight and a sickening smile took hold of its lips as it twisted the blade in his gut. His grip relaxed on his sword and spun away from reach as his form crumpled to the floor. The vampire laughed gleefully and its hand flashed an icy blue. A whirlwind of frost met him and the cold violated his senses. He struggled to get up. The vampire merely smirked and left him for dead.
Whitland shook without control. Most of his body had gone numb and all his mind could process was the cold. He was a thick block of ice if his eyes didn't know better, and his figure went through a violent seizure of shivers. He managed to lift his head up and watched as his attacker walked away. He felt rather than saw it set its sights on Serana. She was oblivious to the crosshairs that had been fixed on her and kept fighting. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to sit up. A terrible wring in his gut made a reminder and he clenched his teeth.
He started hearing voices echo in his mind. The first sign of madness, but he realized, these voices he knew.
"I don't have any plans leaving you anytime soon." he said to her while he rested in the cave.
The vampire started creeping up behind her, withdrawing a fresh dagger from its belt. He needed to move faster than this, he thought. He shakily got up to his feet, his whole body trembling from exertion.
"You can't get rid of me that easily. I'm not leaving your side." Serana vowed.
His sword still lied abandoned in the dirt, but he didn't bother trying to get it. There wasn't any time. The creature drew back its arm and he forced himself into a run. He vaguely realized he couldn't feel his legs while he ran. Odd.
"It's okay, we'll get through this together, all right? I promise." he said while he held her close.
He slammed into the vampire and they both fell to the ground right before the dagger would have found its mark. The creature hissed and Whitland pried the weapon from its hand and threw it away. He was rewarded with a solid punch. Whitland fell to the floor and the vampire scrambled to get up. He tackled the creature and repaid the favor by bashing its face with his fist. Once, twice, and the vampire was out cold. With a sharp intake of breath, he ignored the pain and stood up. He tugged the blade free from his side and threw it at the body in disgust.
"Forgot something." he murmured. Flames burned at his fingertips and he set the creature ablaze.
He turned to find Serana regarding him. Her eyes flickered back to the dead vampire and back to him. "Was that meant for me?" she said, referring to the burned corpse.
Whitland shrugged and offered her a tired smile. "Technically it still wasn't done with me yet."
She examined him. His armor was covered in blood, had been burned to resemble charcoal, and frost coated its outsides. "Might as well been," she observed, "But thanks."
He nodded, too exhausted to speak, and not sure that he could. His gaze fell to the floor and the dagger that had nearly been her demise. A bright light reflected off its surface and shone harshly in his eyes. His breathing stopped and his eyes rose painstakingly to the sky.
The sky was now a dull blue with a sun shining brightly in its folds. He and Serana traded looks before his stare turned to their surroundings. His spirits rose even more as he saw the last remains of the vampires and Death Hounds being put down. The battle was over, they had won. A new thought occurred to him and his smile faded.
He began searching the field for Isran and found the battle hardened warrior near the doors to the Fort. Pushing himself to his limits, he jogged over to his position. Isran was smiling when he made it to him, the first of the likes he had seen on the man's face.
"We've won!" Isran said to him in his deep voice. "Soon, bards will be composing songs for this battle, which is yet to be named." He noticed his somber expression. "What is it?"
Whitland forced himself to say the words. "Harkon wasn't here and lives still. The threat isn't gone yet."
Isran's smile evaporated and his brow furrowed. "Of course he didn't. That would be too easy. I lost a lot of men out here and we didn't even get the job done. This is a hollow victory." His eyes surveyed the carnage around them and the man sighed.
"No, it wasn't." Whitland said firmly. "All these vampires wanted the end of the sun and that threat is gone. Harkon remains and I wish to strike him now while the iron's still hot."
Isran studied him. "You realize I don't have any men to spare to go with you." he said levelly.
"I do, all I ask is that you tell my men and the Dawnguard to protect the bow while I'm gone. Maybe clean up the gore, have a celebration or two, and perhaps a speech? They deserve it."
Isran's lips curled into a smile. "I'll do that, good luck." he added before he turned away from him and started hollering out orders.
Whitland shook his head with a smile. With a pace that was meant for someone twice his age, he found Serana and Elvyr together resting away from all the destruction they'd created. The Nord smiled at his approach.
"You just missed Odahviing." said Elvyr. "He left a few minutes ago." Whitland only nodded.
"What is it?" asked Serana.
He took a deep breath and tried not to wince from the pain it caused him. "I'm going to Castle Volkihar." He stated and ignored their looks of surprise. "We need to end this. Harkon has to die. You don't have to come-"
"Like Oblivion we're not." Elvyr said and stood up. "I'm not leaving you to die."
Serana stood up also. "I'm coming too."
Whitland smiled. "I was saying that you don't have to come, but the company would be appreciated. It's just going to be the three of us though."
"Fine, but how do you suggest we get there?" asked Elvyr. "Castle Volkihar is on the other side of Skyrim."
"Dragonback." He answered with a smirk.
"But Odahviing just left and I rather not risk irritating a dragon…" said Serana.
"Ah, but you forget he is not the only dragon I know."
Comprehension filled her gaze while Elvyr just seemed confused. "What?"
"DUR-NEH-VIIR!" He shouted.
The Nord covered his ears with a grimace. "You've got to start warning me when you do that." he complained. Whitland smiled sheepishly.
For the second time that day, a roar echoed throughout the air and a dragon landed in front of them.
"You called, Dovahkiin?" Durnehviir said.
Whitland couldn't help but grin. "We need a ride."
A/N Sorry for not updating in awhile. Hope you enjoyed the chapter and thanks for the reviews, you guys are awesome. Also, Ag means burn, Aus suffer, and Dir means die.