AN: This is the second of two possible endings to Beneath the Shield. I hope you enjoyed reading this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it! Feel free to leave any comments you'd like at the end.
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Argis' mind snapped back through time to his present situation as the roar of fire echoed through the cavern. He braced for the impact, for the pain, and the death that would likely follow. His smile was hidden by the rim of his shield as he remembered returning to Falkreath after Alduin's death.
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They had rebuilt their house together after the little cottage was burned down and numerous gifts of thanks for largely ending the dragon threat had filled their coffers. In a world largely at peace, a bigger house was erected with the gold that they had and it was built over the site of the burned down cottage.
So many happy years had passed with Ardanthis and Argis living happily together. They relentlessly, remorselessly fought against the evils that still plagued the land but they did so with lighter hearts because back home there were two little hearts waiting for them.
Argis remembered the day they had visited Riften and the orphanage there. They had been overjoyed when they left with Runa Fair-Shield and Hroar in tow with them. The two children had been so spirited at the cold, dank orphanage and lifting them out of that place had only helped them to soar higher.
Runa had grown up into a fine warrior. Her spirit and self-possession, which had drawn the two men to her in the orphanage, manifested more strongly as she grew. The headstrong girl had taken to the stories her fathers told about their adventures together and she knew the story behind each trophy in their large manor.
She quickly took up swordplay and grew to be an accomplished warrior in her own right. Argis smiled as he remembered how she had met her husband, Ursten, on a mission to rid a camp of bandits from the roads around Whiterun where she had settled after leaving Falkreath. They had fought so well together she fell in love with him and quickly found him to be an honourable Nord. They already had two children together and she was heavy with her third pregnancy. The priests had told her to expect twins.
Hroar, unlike his sister, had loved his fathers' stories for their dramatic elements. He had grown up to be a bear of a man and became a mountain of muscle as he travelled Skyrim. Hroar was well-known in all of the holds as a man who always had an interesting story to tell. He never shied away from listening to any tale and he loved to explore lost places. He had developed a love for the dwemer ruins that dotted the lands and his curiosity led him to explore them to their depths.
Unlike Runa, who hadn't looked for love until she stumbled upon her husband, Hroar was unabashed in his pursuit of both men and women. He never pretended to look for true love, but seemed to quickly fall into brief, passionate loves with people as he learned as much about their life story as he could.
Neither child was with Argis when the summons had gone out. Though he was far too old to leave their house and fight the ever-present threats that afflicted Skyrim, Argis still travelled out to fight when he had long ago hung up his blade. Argis had been called upon by an Imperial agent who had showed up at his property unannounced. The officious man identified himself as Argenius and quickly explained his presence. A coven of vampires had sprung up and plagued the countryside around Markarth and Ard had travelled out to deal with them. The elf hadn't been heard from again, though.
Argis had strapped on his battle armour and magical blade despite the promises by the Imperial emissary that he would be safe and wouldn't need them.
He remembered the long ride to the coven's location. Apparently, the Altmer was supposed to have finished clearing out the coven long ago, and they assumed the worst. It was unlikely the Dragonborn had been killed by these almost feral vampires, but the greater unspoken fear was that he had been turned into one of them.
Argis knew that he would be called upon to fight his husband or try to reason with him if the elf had become a ravenous undead monster. The thought sickened and terrified him as he tried to imagine the elf's face twisted with a mindless bloodlust.
Their entrance into the coven was promising. Almost a dozen ash outlines of slain vampires covered the floor amidst tattered clothes and a scattering of weapons. The Imperial escort fanned out as they quickly searched the adjacent rooms and reported a few more slain vampires. The soldiers' enchanted swords gleamed softly in the lights that the mage who accompanied them scattered brilliant lights ahead of them to reveal any lurking ambushers. Their clattering armour made stealth impossible, so they opted to flush out any remaining monsters with bright light.
The conjured lights continued to reveal dead vampire after dead vampire which made the warriors all the more uneasy. If so many of the fierce creatures had been slain so easily then what had managed to stop the Dragonborn?
Their descent continued and with it the light revealed a crude sort of home that the vampires had established. Dead bodies, drained of all their blood, periodically dotted the caves but there was little sign of any sort of danger.
Drawing deeper into the cave, they had reached a door that led to the heart of the foul place. From underneath it a gentle blue glow pulsated and drew the warriors onward. Soft whimpers and the odd scream were muffled by the door as they approached, and they fearfully hesitated before the sharp glower of their commander urged them on. They approached the door with caution, ready for magical wards and other spells to spring into motion around them, but nothing happened as they opened the door.
Argis clutched his dragonbone sword in a grip that was white-knuckled under his glove as he nervously looked at the door as it cracked open. He hadn't faced this much excitement in years and he trusted in the protective enchantments that were woven into his armour to shield him from anything that might emerge.
The Imperials burst into the blue glowing room, ready to lay into whatever ancient vampire might be residing there.
Shock coloured their faces as they beheld the Dragonborn peering over a spread-eagled vampire and cutting into him carefully. The creature was bound to a large stone altar which had hollow worn into it where old, crusted blood collected. It suddenly hissed, screeched, and suddenly threw its head back. Though it was restrained it managed to thrash as it suddenly burst into dust.
"Damn!" shouted the elf with anger as he angrily swept his hand through the ash that covered the large altar. He didn't look up as he said, "Hello, Argis. I wasn't expecting to see you for a while yet."
"Love," he began with obvious nervousness, "What were you doing to that vampire?" Though he thought they were abominations, the idea of his husband torturing one made his stomach churn in a way simple battle couldn't.
The elf sighed softly and said, "I was...experimenting on it. I wanted-"
"He's one of them," Argenius called out as the Imperial mage raised his hand and it flared with a purple light. The Imperials fell into a battle formation as Argenius continued, "These vampires have turned the Dragonborn and he must be put down for the good of all of the Empire."
Outrage flashed over Ard's face as he coolly raised his chin and spat, "These vampires didn't turn anyone. Don't give these savages more credit than they deserve. They were barely surviving as it was."
Confusion filled Argis' mind as the implication in those words struck him. He asked, his voice fearful, "If they didn't turn you, but you are a vampire, then how long have you been one of them?"
Ardanthis looked sadly at his husband and answered, "A long time, Argis. A long, long time."
"Why!?" demanded the Nord as the Imperial legionnaires moved steadily towards the elf.
The Altmer seemed to hesitate before he answered, "I might live for centuries, but you won't." His words came out in a rush, "I was so afraid of losing you that I began to explore more ways to help you preserve your life. I've been exploring vampire's immortality. These...tests led me to a very ancient, very powerful clan who showed me what vampirism truly could be. This wasn't a condition just to be studied but something to be embraced."
His face hardened as he looked at the carefully approaching soldiers. "Stand down," he ordered, his lip curling in disgust.
Argenius coolly ordered, "Keep advancing. He might have been the Dragonborn, but he is now nothing more than a monster. It is your duty to take him into custody."
"Your soldiers know I can kill all of them before even one of them makes it to me," said Ard with a small shrug, "I suggest they stop approaching before I kill one of them as an example."
The line halted slowly as they looked at each other nervously before they continued to hesitantly advance, but their line was no longer as unified. They all knew of and were all scared of the Dragonborn's reputation.
"It doesn't have to end this way," called the elf as fire sprang up from his hands. He looked down at the approaching Imperials as fire crawled along his dragonscale gauntlets.
Argis raised his shield, uncertain if the explosions would hurt him. He still mentally reeled at the idea that his husband had been a vampire all along. For decades had he really loved a monster? His line of thought was interrupted as he was grabbed from behind and he froze as he felt a hard edge of steel press against his throat.
"Surrender peacefully, vampire, or I will kill Argis!" Argenius threatened. Though the old Nord couldn't see his assailant, he could hear the smile in the Imperial commander's voice as the man said, "Harm any of my men and your husband dies."
"Harm my husband and you and all of your men will die slowly and painfully," promised the elf. He cocked his head slightly to the side and said, "But you, Commander, you I might turn into a thrall."
Argenius' lips twitched in a cold smile as he said, "Argis will be dead and you will be a fugitive in every hold in Skyrim, even if you kill me. Your children will also be suspect and hunted if you leave here unscathed.
The fire that had kept Argis upright and determined to die to save the elf's secret died when his two children were threatened. Images of Runa and her husband fleeing Whiterun's guards and Hroar being chained in a cell filled his mind.
The stalemate continued as the soldiers slowed down and seemed to visibly hope for a peaceful resolution. "Release Argis and I will go peacefully," grudgingly said Ardanthis with defeat in his voice.
"Hardly!" laughed Argenius, "You'll kill us all without a second thought if I were to let Argis go. Surrender first and be shackled. Then I will release Argis."
The Altmer's gaze rested on Argis with evident worry as he slowly walked towards the soldiers who waited for him warily. With quick steps the wizard hurried down to the elf with a pair of runed shackles in his hands.
Smug satisfaction poured off of Argenius and nauseated the old Nord. Argis could feel the Imperial's distraction and sensed the blade move away from his throat a hair's breadth. In a flash he tried to thrust it away from his neck but the Imperial fought back. Despite the struggle Argis almost made it out of Argenius' grasp when he felt a hot lance of pain stab into his side.
He staggered two more steps before he collapsed, his hand slapped over the puncture in his side that poured blood onto the stone floor. "Argis!" he heard his love scream but the sound seemed to come from a great distance.
Numbly, he knew he was bleeding badly but he knew he had no way of saving himself. He watched, mesmerized, as black shadows swept over his husband and the darkness-shrouded figure seemed to swell larger. The Imperial soldiers hesitated and even the mage looked surprised. The shadows peeled off of Ardanthis and revealed a grey skinned, muscular form with bony wings that flapped and somehow supported the powerful body. The shadows turned into a swarm of hungry bats that circled around the strange vampire.
Instinctively, Argis felt a sense of horror at the creature that hissed loudly at the soldiers in front of it but it's face was so close to that of his husband's that he felt no real fear.
The Imperial wizard was the only one who didn't hesitate and he quickly hurled a bolt of fire at the monstrous creature. Ard bellowed in anger and his right hand flared a deep crimson. He hurled a glowing red ball of energy into the crowd in front of him. They screamed as the magic leeched the life force from them and the burn wound on the vampire's chest faded.
Two more crimson bursts tore through the soldiers and left the small force a desiccated pile of bodies on the ground. Argenius looked around, horrified that he was alone with this creature. He turned to run but Ard reached out with his left hand and a tether of yellow light manifested around the Imperial and yanked him towards the vampire. He slammed into the ground at Ard's feet.
The vampire stopped flapping and bent down. He picked Argenius up by his throat and smiled cruelly before tearing the man's throat out with his long nails. Without further hesitation he dropped the body and beat his strange wings hard as he soared up to Argis and knelt down next to the fallen Nord.
So this is how it ends, thought Argis as he looked up into the surprisingly undistorted feature's of his husband. He had imagined he would have died in their house when his heart stopped. He never would have thought he would die at the hands of his vampiric husband who looked down, hungrily Argis imagined, at the blood that still leaked from the stab wound.
"Oh Argis, not you," murmured the vampire, his voice unnaturally deep, as his hands flared with the healing golden light that Argis was so familiar with. Though the wound sealed Argis could still feel his life fading away.
Panic struck across the vampire's features as he realized the spell wasn't enough. More pulses of golden light washed over Argis, but the Nord knew he was fading out. He would count himself lucky if he died before he felt his husband feed on him. Now that he could feel his time coming, he wasn't scared of dying. He had nearly died so often before, but this time there was no spell that could pull him back.
"I promised you that I'd never lose you, Argis. I wanted to give you the gift of immortality but not like this. I don't have a choice, I'm sorry," murmured the elf as he gently lifted Argis up. The Nord could feel those strangely thin wings supporting his back as his husband enfolded him in an embrace. An icy pinch in his neck told him that the vampire was feeding on him and he wept softly before darkness crawled across his vision.
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Ardanthis looked down at his husband fearfully after reverting to his natural form. He had spent the last decade trying to find a way to extend the Nord's lifespan without resorting to transforming him into a vampire but the situation had forced his hand. He had sworn so long ago that he wouldn't lose Argis, not for anything.
The Nord lingered at the edge of death, his old heart finally having given out, and his body seemed to be struggling with the vampirism that Ard had gifted him with. Sweat poured off Argis' brow and he shook slightly as the necromantic magic worked on his body. Powerless to help his husband, Ard simply sat by and smoothed the Nord's hair as he waited to see if his gift would take hold.
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Returned to his natural form, a choked sob escaped Ardanthis as he watched Argis' shallow breathing finally stop. "No," he hoarsely whispered as he watched a peaceful expression settle onto the Nord's slack features. "No!" he roared as he desperately poured golden healing magics into Argis' cooling flesh. Even he could see that the spells were having no effect and he settled back and wept bitterly.
He looked with hatred at the dead Imperials who had done this to his husband but he couldn't hurt them anymore. They were already dead and beyond his reach. He stripped the wizard of his robe and left the body on the stone floor with its trifling magical artifacts.
A flash of gold on Argis' finger caught his attention and his gaze caught on the simple golden band that they had each worn since they had been married. He released a choked sob before he drew a shuddering breath in and looked away.
With a heavy heart he gathered up Argis' body and equipment and wrapped them in the wizard's robe, using it like a shroud, before he carried them out into the brilliant glare of the day outside. He knew his husband's weight well but the body felt strangely heavy in his arms as he carried it outside.
Each piece of armour that the Nord wore had been handcrafted by Ard and they brought back a flood of memories with each step. Each one commemorated a victory.
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A deafening roar heralded the collapse of the vampires' lair as the wizard's spells exploded throughout the tunnel system. He would disappear after this and the world would think he had died in the collapse or died in battle against the Imperial force. Let it think what it would.
The sunlight didn't sting his skin for he still was vibrantly alive with the lifeforce that he had taken from Argis while trying to give his husband immortality. It tore at his mind to know that the Nord had spent their last moments feeling betrayed but he knew where he wanted to bury the Nord. He knew that the promise of powerful magical artifacts would draw adventurers like he had been to look for Argis' tomb and loot it for its treasures.
He looked far off in the distance towards where he knew High Hrothgar towered high over the landscape around it. With a whispered magical word he summoned his tireless, skeletal horse and gently tied Argis' body to it. Mounting the steed he kicked its exposed ribs and set it galloping off towards the home of the Greybeards.
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The doors to the Greybeards' sanctuary opened quietly under his soft touch. One of the old men looked up at him with surprise but only nodded with understanding when he saw the dead body cradled in his arms and the expression on the elf's face.
Ard passed through the small monastery quickly before he finished ascending the last stretch of the mountain and arrived at the very top.
Paarthurnax looked up, his ancient gaze filled with sorrow as he looked at the elf, "Dovahkiin," he rumbled simply.
Ardanthis simply nodded back, not trusting his voice with the thickness he felt in his throat. The immortal dragon looked at him with something akin to pity as the elf gently laid the body down on the ground before him.
A few simple spells dug a deep hole at the base of a large stone and Ard gently levitated the body of his husband into the hole before reburying him. This high up the mountain, no one would bother Argis' body, and the gifts the elf had made him in life would stay with him in death. He smiled ruefully as he thought of all the barrows and dwemer ruins they had plundered together. Large tombs attracted more thieves.
Raising a white-hot finger that burned brilliantly, Ard began to etch the large stone which was to be Argis' headstone. The work was careful and time consuming, but Ard didn't rush. Paarthurnax watched him silently.
Standing back, he looked over his handiwork and read aloud, "Here lies Argis the Bulwark, a true Nord who lived, fought, and died with passion and honour. He was brave enough to wed the Dragonborn and loved where no others would."
He smiled sadly at the inscription as lifetime of memories rolled through his mind. Knowing that Argis had died thinking his husband was nothing but a blood frenzied vampire tore at his heart and the elf prayed silently that in death the Divines had been merciful enough to correct that mistaken belief.
Snow began to gently fall on the Altmer as he looked down on the grave. The fat, white flakes began to cover over the recently dug up earth and Ard knew that in a short while the grave would be invisible except for the headstone.
A subtle movement in the falling snow caught his eye and he looked up at the strange motion that the snow made. It took him a moment to recognize what was happening, but his breath caught in his throat when it did. The snowflakes seemed to be landing on something invisible and outlining its shape.
Ard could only watch with his heart in his throat as the thickly falling flakes quickly outlined Argis' sadly smiling face. The Nord seemed to be wearing the simple steel armour he had when they had first met.
"Argis," whispered the elf with a voice that refused to rise as he looked at the apparition. A feel of serenity washed over the mountain top as Argis slowly raised his right hand and placed it over his heart and Ard could see a small, golden light gleaming where Argis' ring would have been had he been alive.
Love. Forgive. The words echoed through the elf's mind in two gentle pulses and were as much a sensation as a word. The elf sunk to his knees as relief washed through him. Argis did know that he had been trying to help. The snowy apparition slowly approached the elf, its smile growing infinitely sadder.
Ard looked up at it and begged softly, "Please don't leave me. I'll find a way to bring you back. I'll find-" His words were cut off as Argis bent over and gently kissed Ard's forehead with his snowflake lips.
Memories of Ardanthis from Argis' perspective cascaded through the elf's mind and he saw a long stream of images of him happy or triumphant. He saw himself gut a bandit, a triumphant grin on his features, and a rush of adrenaline shot through his mind. He saw himself laughing as he took a bite of salmon as they sat at a small table and the intimacy of the moment stole his breath. He saw his own body as an object of lust as a large arm – had Argis' arm always been so strong? – swept him into an embrace.
The flood of thoughts washed over the elf and left him sobbing with a confused mixture of joy for moments shared but also for what he lost.
Live. Argis' ethereal voice rolled through his mind again but this time the tone was almost pleading and Ard understood what Argis was asking for. He could feel Argis urging him to make more memories like those with someone else, urging him to not end up alone.
He was shocked out of his reverie as the Nord's spirit stepped back and looked up at the starry night sky with a grin. "Don't go!" shouted Ard, finally finding his voice as he reached out to his husband.
Argis reached out to Ard for a moment before he placed his right hand over his heart and the golden glimmer from his spectral ring flared softly. Ard understood the gesture immediately and mirrored it. "You will always be in my heart too, Argis," he choked out.
The Nord's snowflake form started to unravel and flake away as he looked back up to the sky. "No!" screamed Ard as Argis vanished from before his eyes. The Nord looked at him one last time and the word live blew through the elf's mind once more before the snowflakes that comprised the Nord's heard gently blew apart. The golden glow lingered a moment longer before it dispersed into tiny flecks that settled onto the headstone and dotted it with gleaming gold.
"Argis?" called out the elf quietly. "Argis!" he shouted as he surged to his feet and looked around wildly.
"He is gone, Dovahkiin," softly rumbled Paarthurnax and his words brought the elf to his knees.
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Ard looked at the bandit camp below him. His hunger called out to him and he wanted to make a stop in the nearby city of Windhelm soon. Silently he drew out his two dragonbone swords and slipped stealthily down the hillside towards the brightly crackling campfire.
These bandits had been plaguing the region for over a month but no one had managed to track them down and put an end to their efforts. Their scent drifted on the wind and had been like a beacon to the hungry vampire.
Parting the tall grass ever so slightly, he counted six bandits. One was on guard duty, two were asleep in their tents, and the last three were talking excitedly to each other as they drank around the campfire.
Ard moved slowly and stealthily as he warily watched the sentry and approached one of the sleeping bandits. Their security was lax and it quickly became clear that they were relying on the natural lay of the land around them to hide them. Truthfully, the high ridges hid their fire and blocked their noise but the wind had carried their scent far.
With brutal swiftness Ard lunged forward and stabbed his sword through the sleeping man's skull, instantly killing him.
The strike was sudden and silent, which allowed the Altmer to melt back into the darkness. For now at least, the shadows cast by the small fire hide the gruesome body.
Darkness was the elf's friend, and he used it to slip towards the sentry with stealth and speed. In a flurry of motion he sprang forward and jammed both of his blades through the man's back and they exploded out of his chest with two violent spurts of blood. The shocked gasp and rasp of blade on metal alerted the other four bandits.
The three around the fire surged to their feet, food and drink spilling everywhere, as they drew their weapons and bellowed curses.
Ard didn't waste time and sprinted towards the warriors. "FUS RO DAH!" he roared and blew the three warriors back. One of them screamed as he landed in the fire and his fur armour began to smolder while the other two warriors were knocked off their feet.
Without breaking stride Ard disembowelled the thrashing, burning bandit and plunged his blades into the other two prone bandits. His magical blades easily parted their cheap armour and the enchantments he wove into the dragonbone flared to life. The smell of burning poured off of one bandit as a burst of fire and lightning finished him off while his partner gasped as cold and life-leeching spells tore at his vitality.
A hitched breath made Ard slowly turn towards the last bandit. A Redguard stared at him, open-mouthed, as Ard's blades slowly cleaned themselves before the elf sheathed them.
This was the other one who had been asleep in his tent, and his shirtless and dishevelled appearance testified to his surprise. "Surrender, murderer," said the elf slowly. As he moved forward the remaining firelight illuminated his blood starved features.
"Vampire!" hissed the Redguard, who raised his short sword slightly higher as he looked at Ardanthis. The elf could see his opponent shaking in fear and smirked slightly.
"Surrender, murderer," he said again, but this time he infused his voice with a wave of vampiric magic and the effect on the Redguard was immediately visible. The man relaxed his guard and stared numbly at Ard who slowly and unthreateningly approached. "Drop your blade," the elf whispered as he closed the distance and the Redguard complied.
When he got closer, Ard could see the bandit was quite handsome and the elf sighed, "Such a shame. I wish we had met in a tavern instead of these circumstances."
Gently, he tilted the man's head and exposed his neck before he slipped his fangs into the bandit's jugular. The warm rush of nourishing blood flowed down his throat and down the dusky skinned man's chest and he gripped the Redguard tightly. The blood loss quickly became too much for the bandit who sagged and would have fallen had Ard not supported him. The vampire eventually pulled away from the neck wound and lowered the bandit to the ground. As an act of mercy he stabbed the man through the heart rather than leaving him to die slowly from some wild animal or by bleeding to death.
Rejuvenated, he turned towards Windhelm with an eager smile.
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The tavern was raucous with the laughter of people and Ard slipped in unnoticed. His dragonscale armour was easy enough to stash in his pack and store in his room. Garbed in the finery that was expected as this higher class tavern, he entered the main room and quickly scanned it.
He quickly had a bottle of mead in his hand and mingled with the crowd. A young Imperial sat in the corner, alone and with a somewhat vacant smile on his features and several empty bottles of mead in front of him. Ard immediately noted that the young Imperial was rather handsome and was obviously eying him.
Live. That word from the top of High Hrothgar rolled through his head and he mentally nodded to himself. He struck up a conversation with the intoxicated Imperial and in short order was leading him back to the elf's room.
Their hard bodies collided and an image of Argis flashed through his mind though his husband had been gone for a decade. Ard pulled himself out of the past and tried, if only for that night, to live in that moment with that beautiful, willing Imperial.
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AN: And so it ends. Also, I know that you can't cast healing spells in your vampire form, but I didn't want to let game mechanics make for a clunky story. My apologies if anyone found that off-putting.
This was actually the original ending I had planned for the end of the fic but I didn't want such a sad ending. I wasn't sure if I really wanted a sad ending so I wrote both and decided to let you guys pick which one you want to believe.
I can only thank everyone who actually read through this entire story and offered their criticisms to help me improve. I never actually intended for this to explode to this length, you know. It was actually my first foray into novel-esque writing and every piece of advice given to me has helped me improve my writing. I've read every single comment that's been left and each of them, positive or negative, has meant a lot to me because they mean that someone cared enough about the story to say something.
As my final message, I ask again for any sort of criticism or final comments that you might give. Did you like this ending? I also wonder which ending you guys thought was more fitting, this one or the first one. I'll mark the fic as completed, but any comments will still be emailed to me so don't doubt that I'll still be reading them!