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As Serana had expected, Morgan was wide awake when she entered their chambers. The Dragonborn stared at her with an expression she had seen many times before, from mortals and vampires alike. Fear. She sat down next to Morgan and wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, using her other hand to tilt Morgan's chin upwards so their eyes met.

"Tell me what is troubling you my love," Serana whispered, caressing Morgan's lower lip with a finger.

"I wish I had never heard of an Elder Scroll, let alone having to read at least two of the fucking things," Morgan muttered in a soft growl.

"You speak of this red haired woman."

Morgan nodded.

"Who do you think she is?"

"I...I don't know. I feel as though I know her though."

Serana pursed her lips.

"Describe her."

"She is very tall. As tall as Farkas, I would say. Long red hair, golden eyes but not that of a vampire. Three scars on one cheek...I have seen wounds like that before. Mountain lion from Cyrodiil. Annoying and dangerous creatures that live all over the province," Morgan explained, her eyes closing for a moment.

"Keep going," Serana asked.

"I could sense anger within her. It burns like a sun. She suffered through too much and now she lashes out at the world. I...I cannot recall anything else."

Serana chewed on her lip and nodded.

"I think I know what is going on. Morgan , you just crossed worlds so to speak. My mother once said that there would be multiple worlds, small changes that would branch off to others..."

"So why can I see it?"

"The Elder Scrolls are not just ancient. They carry power none can even conceive. For some reason, they are allowing you to see this woman for some future purpose."

"I am not some all-saving-fucking-savior," Morgan grumbled.

Serana laughed and planted a kiss on her lovers' forehead.

"You are being modest, my love."

Morgan snorted.

"Tell me what else is bothering you," Serana said after a moment, giving Morgan a knowing look.

Morgan closed her eyes again, and Serana could see just how much emotional pain she was going through.

"I can't do this any longer. Feeling compassion for everyone. Everywhere I go, I see the same things. People are starving and many are homeless. Trade has ground to a halt while the war rages on. While some dragons may accept me as their thuri, there will be those who will want my head."

Morgan snarled.

"Then there are people like Ulfric. Siddgeir. Men on either side of the conflict but both are willing to accept the other's help for mere gold. You have people being killed by bandits on every main road through Skyrim...and for some fucking reason, all eyes turn to me for fucking help...what the fuck do they expect of me, Serana?"

Serana pulled Morgan further into her embrace and held her tightly as all the frustration came pouring out of her lover. Years of mental torment at the hands of the Thalmor, followed by more years of torment at being the one person who could possibly defeat a demigod such as Alduin...She narrowed her eyes and closed them, her own thoughts becoming clear like she had been taught.

Maybe I need to teach Morgan this. The poor girl needs all the help she can get. She will never abandon the poeple yet she feels obligated to help them. No wonder she feels pressurised, it must be like looking at a signpost that has a thousand directions on it and she needs to choose only one path.

"Morgan. Look at me."

Morgan raised her gaze and stared at Serana's cool and collected stare.

"Stop thinking about everything at once. Focus on one goal at a time. Keep looking into my eyes...that's it."

Serana moved a few strands of Morgan's hair free from her forehead and maintained eye contact.

"What is our next step?"

"Help Tolfdir and Mirabelle."

"Good. And after that?"

Morgan frowned and then blinked. Serana knew she was in the same state of mind when Morgan spoke again, free of emotion.

"Nothing."

Serana smiled and leaned down to capture Morgan's lips with hers, wrapping her arms around her Dragonborn gently.

"My little Dragon," Serana purred in the language of the dov.

"My love," Morgan responded in kind, pulling Serana down into her waiting arms...

Serana smirked as they walked down the steps that would lead them into the main hall once more. She glanced at Morgan and approved at the determined expression on her face. It had been the thought of the Thalmor that had reawoken that killer instinct that Serana knew Morgan needed to release.

Having compassion is important, but for the time being, everyone needs the Dragonborn that kicked a demi-gods arse, the woman that stared him down in Sovngarde and told him he would be fleeing with his tail between his legs.

Serana grinned again at that thought. She had seen that scene while she and Morgan had exchanged blood the previous night. The sheer audacity of talking to Alduin in that manner was something she admired most about Morgan.

When she needs to be cheeky, she does not disappoint.

The two vampires stepped into the hallway and gave Tolfdir a nod when he saw them. Morgan had a brief moment of peace before a furry shape attempted to charge at her from her left side. Morgan had smelled the Khajiit, and had easily sidestepped J'Zargo as he crashed into a stone pillar. She glared at him as he sprang to his feet and crossed her arms.

"You!" J'Zargo hissed. "This is YOUR doing!"

"J'ZARGO!" Tolfdir roared, and Morgan smirked at the sight of the young mage cowering at the voice.

"This was all HER doing! It is her fault!"

"Stop talking out of your furry arse unless you want a sword jammed up there," Morgan sighed. "Tell me, how should I have known about this 'Eye of Magnus' when I am not here?"

Morgan moved closer to the mage as Serana shook her head slightly when Tolfdor made to intercept her. Even at his age, he knew what the ancient vampire was telling him.

Leave her be, she will sort this out.

"How should I have known about both the Eye and the Thalmor when I was in fucking Coldharbour at the fucking time?" Morgan snarled.

J'Zargo backed into the wall and his fur stood on end as Morgan closed the distance.

"How was I to know that a dear friend of mine and a young man I had barely gotten to know would die after I was traveling between planes of existence and trying to survive the domain of Molag Bal?"

Morgan was now pressed up against the terrified mage, who was now repeatedly opening and closing his mouth, no words being uttered as he stared into a pair of black eyes.

"Tell me J'Zargo...how was I to know I would lose so many friends in the space of a year?" Morgan asked softly.

"He...he was my friend," J'Zargo muttered in a hoarse whisper. "We...we always said we would adventure together after we finished out studies. We talked about travelling across as many provinces as we could manage..."

He lowered his head, his ears flattening.

"And now he is gone. Now, J'Zargo has no-one."

There was a moment of silence before J'Zargo felt a pair of cool hands gently caress his cheek and the top of his head before they placed themselves on either side of his face. Then the sobs began, breaking free from it's confinement. He howled as the last image of Onmund and himself fighting side by side as the Thalmor strained to fight back from a torrent of fire and frost magic.

Then that single arrow that had found it's way into Onmund's right eye, killing him instantly.

J'Zargo was not aware that he was being embraced by the one he had been so angry at. He clung to Morgan tightly as he mourned. And Morgan stayed silent the whole time, stroking his head softly, her eyes closed, her stance relaxed.

Tolfdir raised an eyebrow and met Serana's gaze.

"Told you she would take care of him. I understand his anger, but Morgan has been through far worse. It is a good thing she is calm at the moment because she has an unlimited amount of anger to use."

"And you taught her how to harness it," Tolfdir nodded.

"Soon, she needs to release that anger. But not on this poor student. No-one needs that sort of pain in their life."

Tolfidr nodded again and turned back to see J'Zargo embrace Morgan once more before stalking out of the room without so much as a glance to the others. He stared as Morgan walked over, her eyes now a blazing orange once more.

"Your eyes changed," he noted.

"I need some secrets my friend," Morgan said quietly.

"Of course. I apologise on J'Zargo's behalf. Too much blood has been spilt."

"Not enough Thalmor blood," Morgan said sharply, fixing him with a piercing stare. "You never mentioned what happened to Ancano."

Tolfdir frowned and then noted Serana's amused expression.

"You better tell us where he is," Serana grinned.

"Follow me," the elderly mage sighed, wondering just how they had known...

Ancano managed to open his eyes as the doors of his cell opened with a resounding clash of steel on stone. He chuckled as he recognised the silhouette of Tolfdir, the Alteration 'Master'. He snorted at the thought of a mere human being a true master of any magic. He looked behind the old man but was not familiar with the two that were following him.

"Visitors now, Tolfdir?" he wheezed. "It is so nice to have company. Will we be seeing any of the others? Mirabelle perhaps? Minus the internal organs of course. Stupid woman shielding the students. She may have had the power to take me down after my battle with the Arch Mage."

"Your words are meaningless, Ancano. Your fellows are dead, thrown into the sea," Tolfdir retorted.

"Is that so? What about that young man...what was his name? Tall boy, rather dim as I recall but eager to impress. Onmund was it? An arrow in the eye. A shame. He could have provided my men with a little more entertainment at the very least..."

"YOU...!"

"Tolfdir. Go upstairs and see to Mirabelle. Serana and I will handle this," one of the shadowy figures said softly, placing a hand on the mage's shoulder.

"Don't worry. We will make sure he tells us everything," the other said.

He chuckled as Tolfdir nodded and walked through the steel door, which closed with another loud clang.

"You think they haven't tried? I am a Justiciar, trained since birth to harness magic and to resist torture. You whores shall get nothing out of me!" he laughed.

"Really? Interesting. So tell me 'all high and mighty Thalmor Justiciar'...", one of the women mocked as she came closer to the torchlight.

He snarled as the amused face of the Dragonborn appeared in the soft light, her smirk increasing as they stared at each other.

"Have you ever heard of blood magic?"

The two of them took turns, slowly draining the captured Thalmor of his blood and seeing into his past, describing important details to the other. Ancano resisted in as many ways as he knew how, but none of his training prepared him for the ease at which those fangs pierced his neck and took his secrets as easily as cutting through air with a sword.

His insults became weaker, and eventually, after six hours of contant draining and interrogation, he broke.

"Enough!" he whispered, drips of blood dripping down the sides of his neck.

His body felt as though it were on fire, his fingers and toes had become numb. It was then that his tired mind realised what had happened.

I am infected with their filthy disease.

He used the last of his priceless energy thrashing against the steel chains that held him, and only stopped when his muscles screamed in protest at having no blood to keep them moving. He blinked as he felt his head being raised and two sets of fangs could be seen in the dying light. He closed his eyes and waited, hoping they would leave him so he could at least recover and strengthen his resolve.

"What do you think?"

"We got everything we needed."

"Sooooo...?"

"I was going to leave him here in the dark but I don't want this bastard actually gaining this gift."

"Good idea."

He gasped as he felt a white hot pain sear through his lower body, and he opened his eyes once more before glancing downwards. His intestines were spilled all over the cobblestone floor, his legs hidden by a shreds of skin. He snapped his head up once more.

"You filthy...undeserving...bottom feeding...dirty blooded...sick freaks..."

"You forgot 'beautiful'," Morgan grinned at him, pulling Serana into her arms and kissing her once before smirking at the dying Altmer hanging against the wall.

"And you also forgot 'amazing'," Serana chipped in, wrapping her arms around Morgan and grinning at her.

"You...will not get away...with this," Ancano muttered weakly.

"We already did," Morgan laughed. "You have us everything we could ever need. Your army locations..."

"Your strongholds and places where you keep your most dangerous prisoners..." Serana smirked.

"Your plans for the future," Morgan added.

"Your plans involving the Emperor and the Dark Brotherhood...which, I am sorry to say, will not be happening for some strange reason..."

Morgan and Serana briefly allowed the imprint of the Black Hand to appear on their forearms, and chuckled as he snarled, ignoring the way that his arms became nothing more than dead weight.

"Not unless the Unholy Matron demands it of course," Morgan smiled.

"Then there are the other interesting things...like the location of the Thalmor leader. The one you all like to refer to as 'Herself'," Serana mused. "I wonder what she tastes like..."

Ancano closed his eyes one final time, the laughter of two demons echoing through his mind before everything went dark. The last thought he had was one of defeat and a measure of defiance.

Blasted 'Eye'. We should never have gone to retrieve it with a small force. Our Mistress will be safe, none has ever gained access to her outer chambers. Our assassins will find this miserable 'Dragonborn' and...

Darkness.

"I wouldn't let anyone go down there for a few days," Morgan announced the second they entered the main hall. "The rats will take care of most of the mess."

"You...killed him?" Mirabelle asked weakly.

"After getting all the information he had," Serana cut in, waving a stack of parchment in the air.

"He was never going to stand any kind of trial," Morgan added. "No doubt the Thalmor would have attempted another infiltration of the College if he was still alive. He was a senior member of their inner circle after all."

"What are you going to do with that information?" Mirabelle asked, eyeing the stack warily.

"Pass it on to Rikke. It is not a good idea to send them to Cyrodiil when the Emperor is in the Thalmor's pocket so to speak. Possibly get them to Hammerfell as well of course," Morgan mused.

Tolfdir and Mirabelle exchanged bewildered looks at how calm the two vampires seemed to be.

"You don't look angry..."

"Oh, trust me Mirabelle, I am pissed off," Morgan replied. "I feel like going back down there, reanimating his corpse and using it as a sword training dummy. But I don't have time for such luxuries. This war has gone on for far too long, and we are going to put an end to it."

"I see. But before you leave, could you possibly do this old mage one last favour?" Tolfdir asked.

"I am rubbish at speeches," Morgan grumbled, eyeing the mirror she was staring into.

Serana wrapped her arms around her waist and kissed the nape of her neck, smiling as Morgan arched her head back at the contact.

"It will mean so much to the members of the College. And if you are careful , you may earn the support of the townsfolk. That could prove very useful," she said softly.

"Maybe you should do the speech," Morgan grinned.

"They asked you," Serana giggled, kissing her neck again and running her hands down Morgan's hips.

"You keep it up and there won't be a speech," Morgan breathed.

Serana smirked.

"Then get going before I do something drastic."

Morgan sighed and ignored Serana's stifled laughter as she left the room, her lover right beside her. She hadn't been lying when she said she was not that good at speeches. She had no such 'training' while growing up after all. She had opted to use a longsword as a weapon instead of a tongue.

And now I must preside over a funeral gathering for the College of Winterhold and for the loss of the guards in the town itself. Wonderful.

Why in the name of Sithis did I agree to this?

Morgan clenched the wooden frame before her, her fingers making the wooden fibres creak as they were subjected to a pressure greater than what it was designed to withstand. She stared at the hundreds of people gathered in the College of Winterholds' courtyard and attempted to reign in her whirling thoughts. The fact that Serana was standing at the front with the senior members of the College and not beside her was not helping matters.

Then she saw Serana's small nod...and that small gesture made everything so clear for her.

"We are gathered here to mourn the losses of so many brave souls. Hadur and Dragur, brothers in arms as the guards that patrol Winterhold were lost as they protected the people of this town," Morgan said with a slight glance to the wives of the guards, who were staring at her while weeping openly. They fought bravely and did their sworn duty to the very end. Sovngarde has gained two more heroes within it's valleys this night."

There was a rumble of approval and Morgan felt her confidence grow, choosing to ignore the few mutterings of whore and undead bitch from one or two villagers.

"Savos Aren gave his life for the greater good of the College. He was wise, compassionate, and never rejected any who wished to learn within these ancient walls."

Morgan closed her eyes.

"And he was a dear friend to many, including myself."

She opened her eyes and felt that hot sensation begin to build within her.

"He too, gave his life to protect others. And his teachings were passed on to others. Three students followed his example, buying others time to flee or regroup while their attackers sought to end their lives."

The crowd murmured louder.

"Eisa, a Bosmer that fled Thalmor controlled lands to learn magic that could help her find solace in the fact that she had not let her kin down was the first to fall...after taking out three well trained Thalmor mages."

Morgan glanced at the covered bodies that lay on the pyre.

"Lungra-Sho-Dragar, an Orc who wished to learn every style of combat known, from blade to the arts of Conjuration was the second, having using himself to shield the younger students from harm at the cost of his own live..."

Morgan let her eyes wander to the third wrapped body, and held the wooden plinth a little tighter, the wood creaking once more.

"Onmund was the last casualty. A young man who wished to choose a different path from what many wanted him to take. He chose to attack and buy everyone time, possibly knowing that the Thalmor battlemage he fought was too strong for him...yet he still chose to stand his ground," Morgan continued, her thu'um rippling through the crowd as a gentle breeze.

"I lost not one, but two dear friends. And many of you have lost even more than that. Let us remember these brave souls."

Morgan stared into the eyes of as many of the crowd as she could within a few scant seconds.

"But let us never forget them."

The roar was almost deafening as over two hundred of the amassed crowd cheered, and in the case of the mages, sending balls of magelight into the sky. Any who tried to speak out against her words were cut off as the names of those lost echoed into the night. Morgan met Serana's eyes, and Serana smiled at her as she gave her another small nod.

Morgan then met the gaze of Jarl Korir, who had been watching her the entire time. There was a moment of complete stillness before he too gave her a small nod. She nodded back to him and climbed off the makeshift stage...which shattered into pieces as the weakened structure finally gave way after being subjected to several minutes of vampiric strength.

There was another cheer, and Morgan shrugged as she was pulled into embraces of the townsfolk, all of them cheering names of those who had been killed...and to her surprise, her own name as well.

Never again am I making a fucking speech. Never again.

"You should do speeches more often."

Morgan stuck her tongue out at Serana, who was lying on the bed and completely devoid of clothing.

"I blame you," Morgan retorted as she let her clothes fall to the floor before laying down beside her lover.

"What can I say? I am a motivator of Dragonborns," Serana grinned.

"That could be taken out of context," Morgan chuckled as Serana slowly draped her leg over her stomach.

Serana smirked.

"I am sure I can think of other ways to keep you motivated, my love," she whispered, moving closer to kiss Morgan's neck.

Morgan sighed and allowed Serana to take charge once more, letting her worries and anxieties vanish for at least one more night. The only thought she had before Serana's ministrations became too much for her to bear was one that had been residing within her subconscious for days.

This needs to end. Not just the Civil War but the incursions within Skyrim.

She just hoped that the fighting could be ended soon before she lost anyone else dear to her.

And then Serana covered her body with hers, and even that thought fled into the Void.