Sorry about the wait, the World Cup got in the way :3 But seeing as my useless national team are already out, I have more free time now XD Hope you like the chapter :D
"What the fuck?!"
Astrid winced and took a moment to wring her hands together, trying to keep her composure. The sight of the Listener, fangs bared and eyes burning, was enough to make her feel like that scared little girl she had been all those years ago. She was grateful when Serana gently squeezed Morgan's wrist and whispered something into her ear.
"Forgive me Astrid, I was out of line. I was just expecting less…destruction."
Astrid gave a weak nod and took a breath.
"Only Alva remains out of the vampire group. Apparently, some of them decided she was not strong enough to lead them and attempted a coup…"
Morgan glanced at Alva, who was standing behind Nazir as though he would be capable of protecting her against a pissed off Listener. Morgan noted the anger in the vampire's eyes and she gave her a small nod, silently telling her she did not blame her in the slightest.
"Seeing as she stands here, they failed," Morgan remarked.
"The rest were killed, Listener," Lucien LaChance said smoothly. "They broke at least two Tenets and now suffer in the Void."
"At the same time, we are reduced to a few," Morgan pointed out quietly, running her hand across her forehead when a soft sensation rippled through her mind. She recognised that feeling and she looked at the Dark Brotherhood members.
"I must commune with the Night Mother. Solia, Golag. Get some sleep. I do not want to see either of you near that forge until you are both fully rested. Gabriella, Brelyna. Start making whatever poisons you can, help Babette with anything she needs. Astrid, Nazir, start squeezing your contacts for possible new recruits. Alva, I know you have been through a lot…but I need the cave cleaned out. We can move a few blood givers to one of the spare rooms."
"And the rest?" Alva all but purred, Serana rolling her eyes.
"Dispose of them. Incinerate them to leave no evidence," Morgan replied, wincing slightly when that pressure in her mind increased a little.
"Babette. Do what you do best…and I don't mean be a little terror," she grinned, the others chuckling as the small vampire gave Morgan a not so innocent expression. "And Cicero? Get some spare clothes so I can repair your jesters motley…the Keeper should always look his best before Mother."
Cicero went pale and shook his head rapidly.
"But…Cicero only has this motley! It is the Keeper's…"
"I am not going to destroy it," Morgan replied softly. "I am going to repair it and strengthen the enchantments on it. It is only for a few hours, my Keeper."
There was silence for a few seconds and then Cicero nodded.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you! ALL HAIL THE LISTENER!" he yelled, cart wheeling his way out of the room while cackling loudly.
Morgan chuckled as she turned to face Serana, gently taking her lovers hands.
"I will see you later," Serana said quietly, placing a tender kiss on her lips.
Morgan instinctively leant forwards, and Serana chuckled, putting a slender finger on her lips, a smirk fixed on her face.
"Later," she promised.
Morgan smiled and nodded, and watched Serana leave the room with Alva. She gave a small nod to Brelyna, having noticed that the dunmer had been watching her closely the whole time. It was a simple gesture, but she knew Brelyna had gotten the unheard message.
We will talk later.
Morgan sighed when the main hall cleared of all occupants, and shook her head as she fixed her gaze towards Lucien, who had been moving towards the living quarters.
"You may stay, Speaker."
"As you command, Listener," Lucien said, standing at ease next to her.
Morgan smiled when she felt that soothing embrace surround her, and she knelt in front of the Night Mother's coffin, bowing her head….
"You may rise, my child."
Morgan opened her eyes and couldn't help but smile when she saw the black sky above her, the oppressive silence of the Void all around her. She did as was asked, boldly meeting the amused gaze of the Night Mother.
"Thank you, My Lady."
The Night Mother was silent for a moment and then chuckled.
"You cannot hide anything from me my dear girl. Tell Mother what is bothering you."
Morgan shivered as the images began to form inside her mind once more.
Molag Bal sitting on his throne and laughing heartily while Elissa giggled as she kissed her throat, her hands roaming her body. The sight of the daedroths dipping their heads in submission to her as a more powerful being passed them. The way the souls of the damned spent an eternity being hunted and fed upon, only to be resurrected and the cycle begun anew.
Morgan whimpered as she fell to her knees, the images coming faster.
Serana standing with the other disciples, their long white dresses clean and unblemished, hair perfect and skin untouched by none. And then afterwards. Serana knelt in the middle of the pile of corpses, people she had known for years, all of them twisted and broken.
"Please…stop…" Morgan pleaded.
Lord Harkon embracing her daughter and telling her he was proud of her, a daughter worthy of such power, Valerica standing beside her and saying nothing, a grimace on her face. And then the aftermath, with Harkon discovering the Prophecy and alienating his wife and daughter as he followed his desire for power over the sun.
Morgan sobbed loudly as the images spun around her in a blur, blood beginning to seep from her nose and mouth.
Finding Marcus in Breezehome, his throat ripped open and his blood coating the walls.
"Forgive me, child. But there is more. Something you need to know."
"Please, Mother. No more…I…I cannot…"
But her pleas went unanswered as a final image formed, one that Morgan knew came from the mind of either the Night Mother or Sithis himself…
Tirdas, Fifth day of Morning Star, 4E 201
"Thank you for coming on such short notice. I trust your trip was uneventful?"
Ulfric Stormcloak smiled as his guest gave him a short shake of his head as he sat down on the offered seat before him, taking his time to remove his travelling cloak and hood and giving him a respectful smile of gratitude.
"It went fine, Jarl Ulfric. And thank you for your hospitality."
Ulfric waved off the praise and leant forwards, observing one of his finest spies closely. Marcus Jannus was one of those men who would do anything that was asked of him without question. He was not a warrior of battle, but he was extremely cunning and had a knack of being able to make any person trust him with a few simple words.
He was a Breton, but Ulfric never held that against him. It had been Marcus who had given Ulfric the news of the appearance of the Dragonborn while he had been in Whiterun, and had continued to provide information of Balgruuf and his ruling over his lands. It had also given Ulfric an insight into the Dragonborn herself but he wanted to hear Marcus talk about Morgan Aurelius face to face and not with a few code words in on a piece of parchment.
"So…tell me my friend. This 'Dragonborn'. What is she like?"
Marcus took a sip of wine and nodded to Galmar Stone Fist as the grizzled man walked into the room, grunting when he saw Marcus sitting there.
"She is young. But extremely skilled in the use of magic and the blade and has a knack of smithing and enchantments. She is also clever. She can fend for herself and form a strong bond with others," Marcus reported, sticking with facts that the Jarl could use.
Ulfric nodded for him to continue.
"She has been travelling all over Skyrim, clearing out tombs and even carrying out menial tasks such as working forges for blacksmiths and cutting lumber at mills."
"And what of the dragons? Does she help in that regard?"
Ulfric frowned as he gave him a worried look.
"She has taken over a dozen souls thus far my Jarl, and they are only the ones we know about. She has been observed to use at least six Shouts, all of them with three Words of Power, so we must assume she has killed at least another ten or so to have learnt them all."
Ulfric nodded. He knew the stories about the Dragonborns of old. How they could learn any Shout instantly and unlock their meaning without training or meditation. He also knew of the way that a Dragonborn would unlock everything they needed to know about any Words of Power by directly taking the soul of a dragon.
"And what of her allegiances?"
"She has formed a strong bond with the Companions as well as that of Jarl Balgruuf. She is respected by most of the Whiterun citizens and is held in high regard by many of the other Jarls…especially that of Jarl Elisif."
Ulfric cursed mildly and began to think a little.
Just how close is the Dragonborn to that of Elisif? And how did she earn the trust of the young Jarl so quickly?
As if reading his thoughts, Marcus spoke again.
"Morgan foiled the resurrection of Potema. Not once, but twice," he said quietly, as though Potema herself would appear behind him and take his life.
Ulfric shivered again. That was a frightening prospect, the return of the crazed Jarl of Solitude.
"Anything else?"
Marcus shook his head, knowing that everything else he had learned of the young woman would be of no use to Ulfric.
"It seems she is closer to joining the empire then that of our own Stormcloaks. A pity. The Dragonborn fighting for the Sons of Skyrim would make for a very strong rallying cry," Ulfric mused, leaning back into his seat. He watched Marcus impassively, impressed at the way the young man sat there, awaiting his orders quietly.
Is there any way I can keep the Dragonborn away from joining the Empire? If we were to win the war, she would undoubtedly have no choice but to follow, or risk being exiled.
Ulfric smiled slightly.
Of course, she is known to have a kind heart. She cares about people. And Marcus is capable of charming any person given the chance.
"Marcus. Tell me, how far would you go to gain your wildest dreams?"
Marcus shifted in his seat, the first sign he was uncomfortable with the conversation. Ulfric his a grin as the man shuffled in his seat, his tongue flicking across his lips nervously before he replied. Ulfric knew of the man's ambitions. Marcus wished for an easy life, maybe a house and a serving wife to cater for his every whim. He also knew of how Marcus would woo any woman who came within ten feet of him and could hide his desires when he had to.
"I cannot hide forever my Jarl. I will need to settle down at some point," Marcus replied quietly, ignoring Galmar's barking laughter.
Ulfric nodded, although he was also tempted to burst out chuckling. It was a funny thought, a spy wanting to settle down with a common wench for company. He reined in his mirth and nodded.
"So tell me…what would you do to keep a certain Dragonborn away from the war?" he pressed.
Checkmate.
"What would you ask of me, my Jarl?"
Ulfric smiled fully now.
"Simple. Keep Morgan Aurelius away from Solitude. Any way you can think of. Tie her up, let her tie you up. By Talos, maybe even marry her to keep her satisfied. With a little luck she won't be able to go gallivanting across Skyrim and leave our Stormcloaks alone to win back our land. And when the war is won, you can leave her and chase down any woman you desire. What say you my friend? Can you do that?"
Marcus nodded briskly, and Ulfric grinned as he stood up.
"Work as fast as you can. Support her, make her believe she can defeat the World Eater. It is her destiny after all, and she would be doing us a favour by ridding us of the dragon threat. If she is successful, wait a while until she is content and then leave her, and report to me. Do not send any letters to anyone, I need you to be completely unobserved whilst you are there. Any questions?"
"None, my Jarl. I shall leave tonight."
Ulfric smiled as he walked closer, clapping the smaller man on the shoulder.
"Good luck my friend, may Talos guide you."
"And you, my Jarl. I shall not let you down."
Ulfric chuckled as Marcus left the Palace of Kings.
"I know you won't, Marcus. I know you won't."
"I am sorry my child. You needed to know."
"It never happened," Morgan whispered, squeezing her eyes shut hard and clenching her hands hard enough for her nails to draw blood from her palms. "IT NEVER HAPPENED!"
The Night Mother sighed as Morgan screamed and ranted the words over and over again, in a continuous mantra. She knew that the young vampire would take it badly, but she truly needed to know the truth. She could see into her heart and she knew that Morgan was heartbroken. And angry. Very angry.
And it is her anger that will set her free. Her werewolf companion was correct in that regard. She needs to unleash her anger on the world, not restrain it. She can become the Listener that she was destined to be, but in order to do that, she needs to see the truth.
"Listener."
"Fuck off," Morgan growled.
The Night Mother smirked.
Good. She is listening, as she should.
"Stop acting like that scared little girl on the chapel roof and LISTEN!"
"FUCK YOU!" Morgan bellowed, whirling around and facing the Night Mother face to face.
The Night Mother smiled as the Dragonborn growled at her, her face twisted with a fury that none had ever seen.
"Listen, my child. Listen to the part of you that desires release. Listen to what your heart tells you. You cannot hide anything from me. I know what you want."
"You have no FUCKING IDEA WHAT I WANT!" Morgan screamed.
"You wish to tear out Ulfric Stormcloaks entrails and feed them to him while he dies. You wish to eradicate the Stormcloaks entirely and to take Serana for yourself."
"SHUT UP."
"You wish for release, little Dragon. You wish for an end to the war. You wish for a family of your own…."
The Night Mother grinned as Morgan exploded with raw power, her eyes a solid black instead of their usual orange, a wave of invisible energy surrounding her Listener. That was what she had brought Morgan to the Void for. She needed to see the truth about her so called husband. She needed to learn that only a few could be trusted.
And she needed to release that hidden power that she had never used before.
The power of a child of Sithis.
Morgan opened her eyes, and saw the worried expression of Serana over her, her long hair spilling over her shoulder so that it rested on her cheek. She felt drips of water hitting her face and Morgan realised that Serana must have been taking a bath and had been interrupted from her bathing and had found her on the floor. She gently caressed Serana's cheek with a finger and Serana smiled, kissing the digit briefly.
"Are you alright?"
Morgan closed her eyes. The truth was, she didn't know. Not anymore.
"I…I was in the Void…and…"
Morgan felt Serana's arms hold her tighter, the soft silk of Serana's night shift under her head.
"It's alright," Serana said softly, her fingers trailing through Morgan's hair gently.
"That bastard," Morgan growled suddenly, and Serana pulled Morgan onto her lap, her arms wrapping around her midriff and her lips finding the crook of her neck.
"Show me what happened," Serana whispered.
Morgan nodded. She knew that Serana could see many things through her blood. She took a moment to look around. She was in her room and sitting on her bed, Serana's legs now around her waist. She leaned backwards into her lovers embrace and sighed as Serana's fangs found her throat, her lips sending tingling sensations across her skin. She placed her hands on Serana's thighs as she fell into a sleepless slumber, glad that she could find some peace from her thoughts at last.
Serana frowned as she continued to stroke Morgan's hair gently, her fingers running through the long strands as easily as if her hair was water. She had seen only glimpses of what had happened, and she did not like the thought of a colder, harsher Morgan. She had fallen in love with her after seeing her compassion, even after accidentally turning her into a half blooded vampire. Morgan never berated her for that, and Serana was so grateful for that.
She looked down at the slumbering Dragonborn and closed her own eyes for a moment. She hadn't seen the Night Mother, she had only seen a vast emptiness of nothing, an endless void of space that felt as cold as the harshest weather that Skyrim could offer. But she had seen Morgan…or rather, a massive white dragon that bellowed and roared at the Void, as though disagreeing with it in some way.
But she had heard a voice telling Morgan about her desire for release, and it was that which worried Serana the most. Serana wasn't worried for Morgan's state of mind should she decide to be a little harsher, she knew that Morgan was strong willed and always followed what she thought was the right thing to do. It was the thought of Morgan allowing her more bestial desires to come forth that frightened her. The power of a Dragonborn, a new breed of half vampire and a Listener of the Dark Brotherhood combined was something that she was certain had never happened before, and who knew what may result in such a combination.
Serana was well aware that Morgan had become more aggressive as of late. It had been a slow process, but she had seen it. She had also seen a colder side of her come forth, a merciless version of Morgan that only craved for it's own desire: she had seen it in Windhelm, and it had taken all of Serana's willpower to bring Morgan under control before she had slain all of the citizens. And it had been a close call.
She wasn't sure she could bring her back from that brink again.
Serana had also noted that Morgan's blood was more powerful than the first time she had tasted it, as if she had become finer over time, like a fine wine. She snorted.
As if any wine would taste as good as her.
Serana knew of blood magic of course, her mother had taught her many types of magic, some of which had been forgotten about over time. But it was the blood magic that Serana had never really gotten a full grasp of. Her mother had been perplexed about that, although Serana admitted that she found blood magic a little disconcerting to use. And very dangerous if used incorrectly. Making a mental note to ask her mother about it, Serana looked down again at her lover, smiling as Morgan whispered her name in her slumber.
I love her, no matter what. I will not allow the Divines, the Dread Father or anyone else take her away from me. She is mine, and mine alone.
Morgan mumbled her name again, and Serana smiled fondly as she continued to run her fingers through her hair.
"I am here my love, I'm here."
Idgrod cried as she managed to barricade the door, throwing as many barrels against the wooden door as she possibly could. She then dragged the two small chests of drawers and placed them against the pile before sitting heavily onto the bed that resided there, feeling her body begin to shut down from exhaustion.
I told my mother what would happen, and she did nothing! She simply told me to accept her fate and to seek her out in Aetherius, as though she didn't care about the Stormcloaks that swarmed into Morthal, cutting down the guards as though they were weeds in the marsh.
She felt the stings of the shallow cuts on her skin, and the cool air that seeped through the tears in her dress, but she found herself not caring. She couldn't stop the visions coming any more than her mother could. She felt that familiar sensation of magic weaving itself through her mind, and she simply lay back on the bed and closed her eyes, hoping that what she saw was something more calming…
The woman with hair as fair as her skin screaming in ecstasy as the raven haired woman explored her body, her kisses trailing all over her fair body eagerly before a set of fangs extended and gently buried themselves into her skin near her collarbone, her legs wrapping around the woman as she climaxed. The way that the woman grinned in a predatory manner as the fair haired one dragged the woman downwards to meet her in a bruising kiss, a kiss that cemented an unholy bonding…
The raven haired woman stood in the centre of Riverwood, growling at two people that were trying to stop her from leaving. One a Nord, the other a Bosmer. A third woman was backed against the corner, her hands gripping the tavern posts tightly as the men began to insult the woman personally…
Then the aftermath. Both men were lying in pools of their own blood, bodies torn apart and eyes bulging with fear, even after death. The woman held the third person in her embrace, her fangs finding the woman's neck after a few soft kisses against her skin.
Idgrod mumbled in her sleep as another set of visions assaulted her mind.
A child chuckled darkly as the raven haired woman began to strike a man shackled against a wall, his skin torn in many places. The way that a darkness surrounded the raven haired woman as she laughed at the man's insults before she punched a hole through the mans chest and tore out his heart before throwing the organ into a firepit.
She was staggering through the forest, the moons of Secunda and Masser her only light source. The smell of her blood attracting the many predators of the marsh. She found an abandoned shack and managed to lock herself within….
And felt a set of arms wrap around her neck, spinning her around so that she faced a set of blazing orange irises. The way she easily lowered her onto her back and sat on her hips,, her unnatural strength keeping her pinned to the fur covered bed as she leaned down, her lips grazing her ear.
"Time to wake up, young one."
Then she felt a sharp pain on the side of her neck, and everything went black….
Idgrod yelled as she fell out of the bed, breathing harshly as her lungs fought to keep working. Her skin was drenched in sweat and the odd smell of nightshade permeating the air. She started to count slowly, just as her mother had instructed all those years ago.
They have never been that bad.
But it wasn't the sensations of the visions that had scared her so, nor was it the contents of the visions. It was the raven haired woman that scared her. Someone familiar, someone she knew and trusted. Someone who had stolen a kiss from her a year ago, and was a constant source of amusement for the both of them ever since.
"Morgan," she whispered.
What had happened to change her so? She knew Morgan was a daughter of the night now, but she hadn't heard anything but good things about her since then. So why was she about to start killing and tasting blood so freely? With such a coldness in her expression?
Idgrod shivered, just as she felt something warm trickle down the side of her neck. She used a finger to touch the warm sensation. And when she saw her own blood on the end of that finger, she shivered.
Beware, beware, the Dragonborn has come. And she is Darkness Incarnate.
Yep, lots of twists and turns in this chapter...did you recognise the people that Idgrod saw with Morgan in her visions?...*evil grin*
Feel free to leave your thoughts and ideas, and thanks for reading! :D