"What do you mean, we ain't leaving until later?" Said the caravan driver. He sat on the same spot he always does, arms crossed as he peered down at Serana.
"Like I said, something came up. Sorry," Serana replied. Her voice was dry, as if she was forcing herself through the conversation.
"Sorry, but I'm not holding out for you two. I'm not just gonna' wait when I could be makin' money," the driver continued.
Serana furrowed her brow. She really, really wanted to just place him in a trance until they needed him but surprisingly, she felt a pang of guilt at the idea. She knew exactly who to blame for that.
"Fine, just… Here," she said, throwing a few gold coins towards the driver. "Don't take on anyone else."
The driver caught the coins in one hand, counting them out onto his palm before stashing them away. "And how do you know I won't just leave now you've already paid?"
In response, Serana stared at him. She wasn't going to manipulate him but she felt far less guilty about scaring him just a little. As soon as she made eye contact the driver jolted, his eyes going wide as he seemed to back into the seat of his caravan some more.
"I'll, uh," the driver started, clearing his throat. "I'll be here, miss."
"Good," Serana replied before turning off to walk back towards the gates. She tugged on her hood, the morning sun beating down on her with enough intensity to make her rather uncomfortable. She walked with arms folded, trying her best not to draw any undue attention to herself. That was a surprisingly hard task after the events of last night.
Apparently, people in Whiterun were quite adept at gossiping.
As she reached the gates the two guards stationed on duty gave way to her without question. On her way out they'd both thanked her for her assistance in defending the town against the vampire attack. One of them had continued to talk about a vampire attack they'd witnessed in a smaller town, about how the people there weren't so lucky to have someone defend them.
The entire conversation had made Serana incredibly uncomfortable and she could offer nothing but a nod as she walked past. There was a small, tiny hint of satisfaction as she was thanked and liked by the townspeople who knew of her, but it just felt wrong.
This isn't who you are, she thought to herself. You're not some hero.
After passing back through the gates she decided to blend in a little more, taking on the appearance to those around her of just another townsperson making their way through the streets. Now that the sun was rising proper, wearing a hood as she did drew too much attention.
She found herself itching to get back to Breezehome, back where she could relax. Well, mostly relax. She had stumbled into Lydia the night prior as she left Arven's room, after she was satisfied that he was sleeping soundly.
Their conversation was awkward and she knew there was a serious misunderstanding as to why she was in there with him. She just didn't have it in herself to explain things after everything that had happened.
By the time she saw Breezehome, she couldn't help but notice someone else walking directly for Arven's house.
Surely not, she thought.
As she got closer she kept an eye on the other person, and it only took a few more moments to confirm that the stranger did in fact have the same destination she did. They both reached the door at the same time. As they arrived, they stared at each other.
"Sorry, can I help you?" Serana asked in a kind, yet fake tone.
"I could ask you the same thing," the other person replied. She was a Dunmer woman, an uncommon sight in Whiterun.
"I'm sorry but, I don't quite follow," Serana said as the forced sweetness in her tone took on a sarcastic edge. She stepped in front of the door. "Are you sure you're at the right house?"
The Dunmer looked very, very unimpressed and just a little bit angry as her brow furrowed deeply.
"You'd best mind-" the Dunmer started to talk, but she cut herself off. "Ah. You must be the woman that helped him," she continued.
"That is what they call me," Serana dead-panned. "And who are you, exactly?"
"Irileth," the Dunmer responded. Irileth paused, as if waiting for a response before begrudgingly continuing. "Housecarl to the Jarl of Whiterun."
"Congratulations," Serana said. She could tell she was getting on Irileth's nerves severely, and she just couldn't help but provoke the woman. "I don't think the Jarl is in right now, though."
Irileth's face seethed with frustration. "Tell the Dragonborn to meet the Jarl at his earliest convenience," she said through grated teeth."
Serana folded her arms. "Arven is indisposed," she said.
"I'm sure he can manage a visit,"
"He's currently recovering from being stabbed and bitten. I don't think he can," Serana continued.
Irileth took a step closer. "Were he any other man I'd accept that, but he isn't. The Jarl expects to see him by midday."
Serana didn't respond. Instead, she just stared directly into Irileth's eyes. The Housecarl paused for a moment, taking a cautious step back before forcing herself to stand upright. "I trust you'll let him know," she said. Then, she took her leave.
Serana let out a deep breath.
I can see why he doesn't spend much time here, she thought.
After Irileth was out of earshot Serana turned around and walked back into Breezehome. She was expecting that she'd need to wake Arven, but instead she saw him sitting on a chair in the living room shovelling down food.
He froze like a deer in headlights the moment she saw him, a spoon half-raised towards his mouth.
"Feeling better?" She asked.
"Yeah," Arven replied. "Pretty hungry though."
"I never would've guessed." She shook her head before walking over to him. "Stand up," she said.
Arven looked down to his bowl of food, then back at her. "Can it wait?"
"No."
Arven sighed. He placed his bowl down on the floor to his side before standing up, looking down at Serana. As he did so she took off her hood, letting her hair flow out, fringe partially covering her features. As soon as she did so he felt a lump form in his throat as he was reminded once more of just how stunningly attractive she was.
His heart-rate rose ever so slightly and he could've sworn that he saw the smallest hints of a smile on Serana's lips.
"Stay still," she said as she reached out to grab hold of his chin, lifting it up as she inspected his neck. It had almost fully healed, but deep scars had formed where the vampire's fangs had pierced his skin. Her expression dampened slightly as she noticed.
"I'm fine, Serana," Arven said.
After being satisfied that it was healing sufficiently well, she then reached down to pull up his shirt, intending on inspecting the wound where he had been stabbed. Arven stopped her, his hands moving to her wrists to hold them in place.
As she was stopped Serana looked up at him, frowning.
"I'm fine," Arven repeated.
She hesitated, deciding if she wanted to push the matter but eventually, she relented.
"I appreciate it, but you don't have to continually check up on me," Arven said as he sat back down to continue eating.
"You say that, but this is, what, the third time you've been seriously injured since we've met? Fourth?" Serana replied as she took a few steps back, leaning up against a wall opposite Arven.
"That's normal," he replied.
"It really shouldn't be."
"Hey, I've made it this far, haven't I?"
"And what a miracle that is," Serana said. She continued to inspect him from afar, searching for any signs of discomfort or pain. He seemed fine but she knew him well enough that he could just be acting for her sake.
A lingering voice in the back of her mind berated her for being so doting on him, yet she couldn't help it. Serana felt a direct guilt anytime Arven got injured. The way she saw it, he was trying to fix problems her family had caused. That made her responsible.
Not to mention, her heart ached whenever she saw him in pain.
Before long, she found herself staring. Arven had noticed.
"Does my peasant-like way of eating offend you, my lady?" Arven asked with a mouth-full of food.
"I'm sorry, what?" Serana asked as she shook herself out of a daze.
"You're sort of staring."
"And you're sort of a smart-ass."
"Took you long enough to figure that one out."
Serana rolled her eyes. "I'm starting to think I enjoyed your company more when you were just a sarcastic ass."
"I can easily go back to that if you'd like," Arven replied. "My lady."
Serana grabbed the nearest thing she could find, a book. She threw it at him.
"Oh, by the way," Serana started as she walked off towards her room. "Jarl wants to see you. You've got an hour or so."
"Wait, what?" Arven called out after her.
Serana smirked to herself as she walked back into her room. As she started to gather her things, she spotted the vial she had drunk from the night before. It had been filled to the brim once more with Arven's blood.
"Ah, Dragonborn!" Balgruuf said as he stood from his chair, a wide grin on his face. "It pleases me to see you again."
Just under an hour later Serana and Arven had made their way to Dragonsreach in response to the Jarl's summons. Arven didn't want to go for various reasons, but he had come to respect Balgruuf more than the other Jarl's.
"Good to see you as well, Balgruuf," Arven replied. He couldn't help but notice Irileth tense up when he used the Jarl's name, rather than title.
The Jarl stepped out to clasp his hand onto Arven's forearm in a rough greeting. "I wasn't expecting to see you so soon! I thought I told Irileth midday."
Arven couldn't offer anything but a shrug, but as soon as the Jarl turned away for a second Arven looked behind him to stare daggers at Serana.
Serana just winked at him.
"If only you came at more peaceful times." The Jarl said. "I feel as if the only time I see you is when there's trouble about."
Arven shrugged in response. "I suppose I'm cursed."
The Jarl barked a laugh. "Hah, perhaps! Or perhaps you're just blessed to live an adventurous life."
As the two men spoke, Serana and Irileth were both glaring daggers at the other.
"So. First dragons, now vampires. Can't seem to catch a break, can we my friend?" The jarl said.
Arven nodded. "Seems that way."
"I'm just fortunate to have had you here when they attacked," Balgruuf replied as he clapped Arven on the shoulder.
The Imperial felt a small twinge of guilt. Guilt that would've been severely magnified if anyone had died the night before.
"Not as lucky as you might think," Arven said. "They were chasing me. I'm afraid I endangered your town by coming here."
"You what?" Irileth snapped.
"Irileth!" The Jarl immediately said, turning to face the Dunmer. Irileth didn't continue to speak, but she was struggling to keep her anger hidden. Arven never got along with the woman but he couldn't fault her loyalty to Whiterun.
"What do you mean, Arven?" The Jarl asked.
"I'm… investigating, something to do with vampires," Arven began as he tried to think of how much information to divulge. "There's a group of them near Solitude causing trouble, with the potential to do a lot of harm if I don't do something first."
"So they followed you here to try and stop you?" The Jarl asked.
Arven nodded.
Balgruuf turned back around, sitting down in his chair as he rested his chin on his fist.
"You have my sincere apologies," Arven said as he bowed his head. Serana remained silent the entire time, but she felt as if she should be the one apologising.
"Nonsense," Balgruuf said.
Arven perked up his head at that, a look of slight confusing on his face.
"Pardon?" He asked.
"Never apologise for returning to your home, Imperial. We're fortunate to have you call our city your home. I'm not going to have you feeling guilt for something you didn't intend, especially when you risked your life to correct it." The Jarl had a deadly serious look on his face when he spoke, as if he was offended at the idea of Arven apologising to him.
Arven nodded. He went to offer thanks, but stopped himself. It wouldn't be appropriate.
"So, vampires." Balgruuf said, exhaling. "Nasty things."
"Tell me about it," Arven replied as he tilted his head to one side, making the scar on his neck more prominent. He didn't notice, but Serana shrunk back ever so slightly at his response.
"How in the hells are you standing after taking a beating like that less than a day ago?"
Arven shrugged. "Perks of being young, I guess."
The Jarl barked another laugh. "You better not be implying something there! I could still beat you out of Dragonsreach with one hand tied."
"You could, or Irileth could?" Arven asked. The Jarl laughed again.
After, Balgruuf turned to Serana. "Ah! I've forgotten my manners. I've heard tales of your own bravery in protecting my city, my lady."
Serana stepped forward. She had taken her hood off after walking in and wasn't making an effort to disguise herself, bar from hiding her fangs and yellow eyes. "Serana. It's a pleasure to meet you, Jarl Balgruuf."
"You have my sincere thanks for saving my citizens. As with your friend, you are always welcome in the city of Whiterun."
Serana nodded. She wasn't quite sure what to say. Being thanked like this was still a very new experience for her.
"I won't pry too deep into this business of yours, but are you planning on staying much longer?" The Jarl asked Arven. "You are most welcome to, but if you're being targeted I'll have to inform the guards."
Arven shook his head. "We're leaving today. Have a meeting to attend elsewhere," Arven said.
Balgruuf grunted in response. "Hmm. I honestly can't decide if that's a relief, or not."
Arven chuckled. He always appreciated the Jarl's honesty. "I'd say it's a relief. If I stayed, Irileth would become rather frustrated, and that'd rub off onto you."
While the Jarl let a brief laugh escape, Irileth's expression turned into one of disapproval. Arven could never resist a bit of light teasing.
"I can agree with that," Balgruuf said. "You let me know if there's anything I can offer to assist you."
Arven shook his head, but before he could refuse the offer verbally, Serana spoke.
"Some horses would be good," she offered in a rather nonchalant manner.
Arven just looked to her, lost for words.
"Done," Balgruuf said. Serana instantly turned to Arven with a beaming smile.
"Wait, no," Arven said. He turned to the Jarl. "Thank you, but we don't need horses."
"What?" Serana asked. "We were just discussing this earlier!"
"And I told you why we don't have them."
"Oh come on," Serana continued. "Please?"
"No," Arven said. Serana pouted, putting on her best look of disappointment. Arven felt something tugging at his heart. "No," he reiterated.
After realising that Serana wasn't getting her way, she folded her arms and turned her back to Arven.
The Jarl laughed once more. "Well, if you change your mind just see my stable hand. He'll sort you out."
Arven turned to Serana, giving her a look as if saying don't you dare.
As they left the main hall Balgruuf walked up to Arven, grabbing him by the shoulder to pull him aside.
"That's quite a woman you have there, you know," the Jarl said.
Arven nodded, half a smile coming over his face. "I'm well aware, believe me."
"Just where did you find someone like that?" Balgruuf continued. "I heard some recounts of the fighting, and to be honest I'm not quite sure if I believe them."
Arven looked him in the eye. "What did you hear?"
"Many things, but everyone seemed to agree on two points. Her elegance, and her savagery." The Jarl waited for a response, but as none came he simply clapped Arven on the shoulder.
"Well, I can't think of a safer couple in all of Skyrim. I almost feel bad for the fool who tries to rob you two on the street," he continued.
Arven let out a brief chuckle. "I can't argue that," he said.
"You best be off. The sooner you deal with this issue, the sooner you can come back and we can feast!"
For quite some time now the Jarl had been trying to hold a feast for Arven. He'd managed to dodge it every single time. He knew he couldn't avoid it forever, though. He just rolled his eyes at Balgruuf.
"Your lady is welcome, of course," the Jarl continued.
"We'll see," Arven said. "She can be very picky with food."
"What woman isn't?" Balgruuf replied before barking another laugh. The man had a surprisingly alive sense of humour, considering all his city had been through recently.
After Serana and Arven left the main hall Serana slipped her hood on, looking up at the sky while trying to avoid getting any direct sunlight onto her skin.
"So, we leaving?" She asked.
"Don't see any reason to stick around," Arven responded.
"Have you told Lydia that we're leaving?"
Arven shook his head. "Why would I?"
Serana frowned at him. "Politeness, maybe? I'm sure she'd appreciate knowing."
Arven didn't reply. He knew she was right, but he still wasn't planning on dropping back in. He was getting that itch to leave, as he always did after spending even a short amount of time in the city.
"We'll probably need to find another driver, though," Arven said.
"Oh, I took care of that. Our driver will be waiting," Serana replied.
Arven raised an eyebrow. "It's well past dawn."
"I know. He's a loyal sort."
Arven didn't have as much faith but, as they exited the city, the carriage driver was waiting for them. As soon as the man saw Serana he stiffened immediately.
"Mornin', miss. Sir," the driver said.
Sir? That's new.
The two of them quickly took seats in the back of the carriage, settling in. Arven looked at Serana, mouthing what did you do to him?
Serana just offered him a sly smile, along with a wink.
Arven thought it was rather unfair, now that he thought about it. Any woman with Serana's looks could have the world under her heel just by using her smile. Her vampiric powers on top of that just seemed like the definition of overkill.
He had noticed a small warmth in his body that appeared whenever she smiled at him recently. It filled him up, and Arven found himself incredibly relaxed whenever the pleasant sensation ran through him. It was almost enough to hide the nagging feeling in the back of his head that still resisted it.
The rest of the journey back to Fort Dawnguard passed without any further incidents. Arven ended up spending most of the trip to Riften napping with Serana watching over him, the carriage driver silently keeping his gaze forward. By the time they reached Riften it was night, and the pair continued onto the Fort by foot.
Just as they entered the valley leading to Fort Dawnguard, the sun had started to peek over the horizon. Serana put her hood up almost out of reflex.
"So, are you sure we need to go back into the Fort?" Serana asked as the walls of the place came into view. Arven couldn't help but think it was more like a castle, rather than a fort.
"How many times have you asked this now?" He replied.
"Not enough, since I still haven't convinced you."
"You aren't doing much convincing. More just, whinging," Arven said.
Serana shoved him.
"Can we just make it quick?" Serana continued.
Arven looked to her as they walked. "Is it really that bad?" He asked.
Serana shrugged, wrapping her arms across her front. "It's just really, really uncomfortable. Ever heard a blade scrape on stone the wrong way? It's like that."
Arven shivered. "You can stay outside, if you want."
Serana paused, seriously contemplating it for a moment. After a few seconds, she shook her head.
"No?" Arven asked.
"Nope."
"Can I ask why?"
"I don't really trust these people," she said, head tilted off to one side in thought.
"I'd be shocked if you did."
Serana rolled her eyes. "You're hopeless anyway, if I let you out of my sight for a second you'll fall over and break a leg or something."
Arven sighed, but he didn't push it any further. As they reached the first palisades blocking entrance to the fort he took off his helmet, raising a hand in greeting. Behind him Serana's gaze turned to him, as she did every time he took off his helm. He didn't notice.
They managed to reach the entrance to the fort without incident this time. It was as busy as ever, with trainees running through drills and workers re-enforcing walls. A cook had even started a large stew, the scent of which had all the men and women who were training drooling with anticipation.
As they reached the entrance Arven pushed open the large doors, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the light. Conveniently, the Moth Priest was standing in the centre of the room talking to Isran.
"Ah!" The priest called out as they entered. "My rescuers!" He walked over to Arven and Serana, taking the hand of each in turn and shaking it with a grateful expression.
"It's good to see you both again," the priest said.
Arven nodded at him in turn. "No issues finding your way here?" He asked.
"None at all, thankfully," the priest replied. "It was quite the relief; I don't think I could have handled another encounter with those vampires."
The priest's voice caught in his throat momentarily as he looked to Serana. "Ah, present company excepted, of course."
Serana offered a blunt smile. "It's fine," she said.
"I hope they've made you welcome here," Arven continued.
The Moth Priest gave a hesitant smile. "It's not the hospitality I'm used to, but your man Isran has seen to my needs well enough," he said. "And I might add, this is a remarkable fortress. I have colleagues back home that would love to study this place in detail." As he spoke about the fortress his eyes lit up almost instantly. His passion for study was obvious.
"No," Isran said.
"What?" Arven asked. "Why not? He is helping us out."
"They're already targeting him. If the vampires get to him later on I don't want him telling them everything there is to know about my fort."
Arven sighed. "After we sort this out, I'll speak to him," Arven said to the Priest with a soft smile.
"I'll admit, I'm impressed you could find a Moth Priest so quickly," Isran said as he walked over to Arven, arms folded across his chest.
"They made it easy for us," Arven replied. "Finding them, at least."
"No issues?" Isran said.
Arven grimaced. "We survived. They've been getting more aggressive, though."
"How do you mean?" As Isran spoke his eyes studied Arven intently, as if looking for something.
"They attacked us in Whiterun, out in the open."
Isran grunted. "You were the target?"
Arven hesitated. "Both of us, I think," he said as he turned to Serana. "They want the scroll, but they seem to want to kill us just as badly."
Isran's eyes narrowed as he turned to look over Serana. "Didn't take long for them to turn on their own. Not that I'm surprised."
"It's expected when I've killed more of them than your entire order has combined, don't you think?" Serana retorted, flashing a cocky grin.
"Good to know loyalty runs deep for you," Isran replied.
"I'm loyal to those I care for. More than you know."
Gods, this is an uncomfortable conversation, Arven thought.
"So, does he have the scroll?" Arven interjected. "Is everything ready?"
"For the reading?" Isran asked, turning back to Arven. "Yeah."
"Are you ready, Priest?" Arven asked.
"Oh, most certainly!" The Priest replied. He walked over to a nearby table, lifting up the Elder Scroll with a slight grunt before moving back to the centre of the room. "Let's find out what secrets the scroll can tell, shall we?"
Arven couldn't help but notice a small crowd had gathered. Most of the other Dawnguard members were standing on the edges of the room, with Arven, Isran and Serana closer to the centre.
"Now, if everyone will please be quiet, I must concentrate," the Priest said.
Dexion opened the scroll, his eyes focusing with a look of alarming clarity as he studied it's contents. The room was deathly quiet as he proceeded. Just before he started Isran had taken out a piece of paper and a pen.
"I see a vision before me, an image of a great bow…" Dexion said. "Ah, I know this weapon! It is Auriel's Bow!"
At the mention of the bow both Serana and Isran perked up, listening even more intently.
"Now, a voice whispers, saying 'Among the night's children, a dread lord will rise. In an age of strife, when dragons return to the realm of men, darkness will mingle with light and the night and day will be as one,'" the Priest continued. At the mentions of a dread lord, and of dragons, both Arven and Serana appeared to shrink back ever so slightly.
"The voice fades and the words begin to shimmer and distort," the Priest said. "But wait, there is more here," Dexion said. It sounded as if his voice was becoming increasingly strained. "The secret of the bow's power is written elsewhere. I think there is more to the prophecy, recorded in other scrolls."
Isran let out a short sigh, shaking his head as he continued to scribe. Arven couldn't help but smile.
Of course this wasn't going to be easy, he thought.
"One contains the ancient secrets of the dragons," Dexion said.
Oh, maybe it will be easy.
"And the other speaks of the potency of ancient blood."
Maybe not.
Dexion paused for a moment, his face growing tired suddenly. "My vision darkens, and I see no more," he said as he closed the scroll. He stumbled slightly but Isran was immediately at his back, supporting him.
A soldier ran up and seized the scroll, hefting its weight and taking it away.
Dexion looked up but his eyes were completely glazed over and unfocused. "To know the complete prophecy, we must have the other two scrolls," he said. "I must rest now, the reading has made me weary."
"Come on old man," Isran said. "You should get some rest." Isran lead the priest off into another room, supporting his weight. The crowd had dispersed as quickly as it had gathered, leaving Serana and Arven alone in the main entrance to the fort.
Arven walked over to the closest wall, sitting down on an empty bench next to some stacked boxes. Serana joined him shortly after.
"What's up?" She asked.
"I'm really getting tired of Scroll hunting," Arven said.
Serana clicked her tongue. "Yeah. That might take a while," she said as a hint of a smile crept up on her lips.
Arven eyed her off, curiously. "Should only need one though," he continued.
"Wait, what? The Priest said two."
"Yeah, and one of them is about dragons," Arven said. "Ring any bells?"
Serana's eyes widened as she realised what he meant. "You still have it?"
"Well, no. But I know where it is," he said. Serana almost glared at him, as if she was calling him an idiot through her gaze. "It's in the safest place possible, trust me," he continued.
"Fine, fine," Serana said. "Well, for the other one. I think I know where we can start looking."
Arven blinked. "Didn't feel like speaking up when Dexion mentioned it?"
"You didn't either," she retorted.
"…Yeah. Fair point."
"Besides, half of the people in your little crew would just as soon kill me as talk to me. That doesn't exactly make me want to open up," she said as she leaned back against the wall, hands clasped in her lap as she looked up. Her hood slid back, but her long hair still covered most of her features as it fell across her face. "I got a warmer welcome from my father, and that's saying something."
Arven let his head rest against the wall behind him, turning to face Serana. Some of his hair blocked his vision, but he didn't bother to wipe it away. "What is it between the two of you?" He asked.
Serana shifted on the spot, her hands fidgeting. She looked about the room, but the two of them were basically alone at this point. The rest of the Dawnguard had left to attend to their duties. "We… ever since he found out about the prophecy, decided to make it his calling. We kind of drifted apart," she said.
When she spoke like this, Arven couldn't help but see the more human side of her. Despite her strength and her presence, there was a part of her that was still just a regular young woman.
"Does Harkon even care about you anymore?" Arven asked.
Serana grimaced momentarily before trying to shift the expression into that of a smile. It wasn't very convincing. "You know, I've asked myself the same thing," she said. "After you woke me, I thought… I hoped that if he saw me, he might feel something again. But I guess I don't really factor in at this point."
Serana turned her head up, looking Arven in the eyes with a half-smile across her lips. "I don't think he even sees me as his daughter anymore. I'm just… a means to an end," she said.
Arven wasn't entirely sure what to say. He didn't have a way with words at the best of times, after all. The only thing he could think of was to reach out, grabbing hold of Serana's hand to give it a soft squeeze.
"I'm sorry," he said under his breath. Serana's half smile turned into a proper one.
"Anyway," Serana said, sitting up a little bit straighter as Arven pulled his hand back. "We need to find my mother, Valerica. She'll definitely know where it is, and if we're lucky she'll actually have it herself."
"Wait, that's an option?" Arven asked.
"What do you mean?"
"Isn't she missing?"
"Sort of," Serana responded.
"How can you sort of go missing?" Arven retorted with a hint of sarcasm dripping from his voice. Serana rolled her eyes at him.
"The last time I saw her, she said that she'd go somewhere safe, somewhere my father would never search," Serana said. "Other than that, she wouldn't tell me anything.
"That hardly narrows it down, though."
"But, the way she said it… 'Someplace he'd never search.' It was cryptic, yet she called attention to it," Serana said.
Arven leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "Sorry Serana, but… you sure you aren't reading into this too much? This was a long time ago."
Serana nodded. "No, it's fine. You're right to be hesitant. Besides, I can't imagine a single place my father would avoid looking."
"The Sun?" Arven asked.
Serana shook her head. "You're an idiot," she said. Arven just struggled to suppress a snort of laughter.
"Only places I know of to look for Vampires aren't the nicest to go searching around in. Old caves, crypts, castles. Anything dark and deserted is a good start. Not that it really narrows things down," Arven replied. He waited for a response, but none came. Serana was sitting on the spot, eyes furrowed.
"Serana?" He asked.
"I've got an idea," she said.
"Really? What?"
"Well… you're going to wish we got those horses."
Arven squinted, then he sighed as he realised what she meant. "No," he said.
"I haven't even told you yet!"
"We are not going back to that castle," he continued.
Serana smirked at him. "Who said we're going back there?" She said. Arven just glared at her until she relented. "Alright, alright. But we need to."
"Don't you remember what happened last time we were there?" Arven asked.
"Vividly," Serana said. "It still makes me smile when I think about you scaring them all off."
Arven grimaced. "Sure, but, that's not the part that I remember." As he talked Arven started to idly play with his hands in his lap. Harkon was one of the few things that really got to him.
In response Serana scooted a bit closer to Arven, nudging him with her shoulder. "Don't worry, I'm not suggesting we walk in the front door," she said. "When I was back there, I found out that huge sections of the castle had been shut off, sections that my mother used to work in. I guess my father, in his rage, wanted to get rid of everything that reminded him of her."
"Still," Arven said. "Staying there seems like a huge risk."
"Oh, absolutely," Serana replied. "But my mother's not a coward. I mean, I don't think we're just going to trip over her there, but it's worth a look."
Arven let out a defeated sigh. "At the very least, we might find something to lead us in the right direction," he said.
"And trust me, it'll be safe," Serana said. "That place looked like it hadn't been touched for hundreds of years. I doubt that'd change anytime soon."
Arven let out a deep breath.
That's going to be another, very long walk, he thought. Maybe we should get horses.
As Arven sat in thought, he was quickly distracted by the sound of plate boots ringing out on the stone floor. Looking up, he spotted Isran walking over to him. The man didn't look happy. Then again, he never did.
"I'll meet you outside, alright?" Serana said as she stood up, walking past Isran. The two made eye contact but neither offered any form of greeting or recognition.
"Boy," Isran called out as he got closer. "Come with me. We're going to have a little talk."
Arven sighed internally, but he followed.
This doesn't sound like fun.
Isran led Arven up to the second floor, away from the rest of the soldiers within the fort before he spoke again. He turned around, glaring at Arven with a look that made the Imperial shiver.
"What in the hells are you doing?" He demanded. He didn't raise his voice, but Arven could feel the anger.
"You're going to have to be more specific," Arven retorted.
"Are you a fool? Do you think this is some sort of game, now?" Isran continued. Arven opened his mouth to reply, but he was cut off. "Why in the hells are you getting along with that thing?" Isran continued.
Arven waited a moment before replying, meeting Isran's gaze. He knew what the man was thinking, and if Arven was being honest with himself, he couldn't blame the older warrior.
"She's not controlling me," Arven said, exhaling deeply.
"How could you possibly know that? Especially after she already has!" Isran said.
"Because she's on our side. She doesn't have anything to gain by controlling me," Arven responded.
"Of course she does! She'd get you as her own personal puppet."
"She's been going along with our plan this entire time! Why would she control me only to help us?"
"Has she? Or are you just playing into her plan without even realising it?"
Arven sighed. He was struggling not to let his frustration boil over. He could sympathise with Isran, after all, if the situations were reversed, he'd say the exact same thing.
"If she had a plan to help her father, she wouldn't need me. I am no threat to her, Isran. None of us are," Arven said with an effort to keep his voice low and neutral.
"No threat? Tell that to the dozens of those beasts we've killed."
"Vampires, sure. We've all killed our fair share," Arven said. "Serana has probably killed more than anyone else." Taking a step closer Arven locked eyes with Isran, not faltering despite a growing urge to look away and walk out of the fort.
"We shed blood and risk lives to kill vampires," Arven said. "Serana doesn't. She isn't even threatened by some of the oldest and strongest vampires I've seen. Back when we were attacked in Whiterun I had two vampires almost kill me, I barely managed to take one down before the other one was seconds away from taking my life. Serana showed up and batted him aside without even trying."
Isran's brow furrowed as Arven spoke. The older man didn't reply, but he didn't break eye contact.
"I've only seen her struggle once," Arven continued." Out in broad daylight against a damn dragon. Even then, with a fucking dragon breathing fire at her in the middle of the day she didn't die. Instead she saved my life."
Isran murmured to himself. He took a step back, rubbing a hand over his face as he idly looked about the fort.
"You seriously think she's on our side?" Isran said, in a much more neutral voice.
"Yeah," Arven said. "I do."
Isran grunted. "Can't say I like the idea."
"Like it or not, she might be our only chance. I can't imagine anyone killing Harkon in a fair fight. She's the only other person I know who even comes close to him."
"Well, if the old man was right, the Bow might be able to stop him," Isran said.
"Auriel's Bow? What is that?" Arven asked.
Isran folded his arms, giving a half-hearted shrug. "I thought it was just a legend. An ancient bow of peerless craftsmanship that channels the power of the Sun," he said.
Arven raised a brow. "Channels the Sun? That sounds almost too convenient."
"Just about as likely as blocking out the Sun," Isran retorted. "I really hate all this prophetic shit."
Turning back to Arven, Isran grumbled to himself. "Alright, fine. Keep travelling with the damn thing. By the Divines though don't go catching feelings for it."
Arven stood momentarily stunned after hearing what Isran said, but before he could reply the older man continued to talk. "Don't try and tell me otherwise. I'm old, not stupid. You're a smart boy, don't do something dumb and get yourself killed, or worse."
Isran turned to leave, walking off in the opposite directions to the stairs they had used previously. "Don't forget what side you're on," he called behind him as he left.
I wonder if I'm ever going to have a normal conversation with him, Arven thought.
When Arven left the fort he found Serana right outside the main doors, leaning up against the fort while remaining in the shade.
"Fun conversation?" She called out.
Arven rolled his eyes. "I've had worse," he said.
"Let me guess," Serana started. "He doesn't like the fact that we're getting along?"
"We're getting along?" Arven asked. "I've just been tolerating you."
"You ass," Serana replied.
Arven snorted with amusement. "You're right. He's worried that you're controlling me."
"What? That doesn't even make sense, if I was controlling you why am I helping you?"
"That's exactly what I said." Arven replied. "He's just being overly cautious, as he always is."
"I suppose," Serana said. The pair of them had started walking back down the hill that lead away from the fort, the conversation dropping off before Serana started it once more. "You know I'm not, right?"
"Hmm?" Arven asked, turning to face her.
"You know I'm not controlling you," she said.
Arven smirked. "Yeah, I know Serana."
A soft smile came to her lips. "Good. It'd be a bit easier if they even thought about trusting me, though," she said. "I understand where they're coming from, but I haven't given them any reason to distrust me."
"You're a vampire, that's reason enough," Arven said with a sympathetic look. "I understand your frustration, but I understand where they're coming from as well."
"You came to trust me though, why can't they?"
"You saved my life," Arven said. "More than once. You also went out of your way, starving yourself in order to make me feel more comfortable. It's hard not to trust you after that."
"You'd think having you vouch for me would make them a bit more relaxed," Serana said.
"It does," Arven replied.
"Really?" Serana said with a quirked brow. "Doesn't really feel like it."
"They aren't trying to kill you on sight. That's a big change, you know."
Serana looked straight ahead, a slight frown on her face. With the hood covering most of her features it was hard to get a good read on her, but Arven could tell she seemed upset. Conflicted.
"I wish people weren't so quick to hate Vampires," she said.
Arven opened his mouth to respond, but just ended up stuttering. He quickly realised that he needed to think very carefully about what he said.
"I get it, I do," Serana continued. "But… being hated for a thousand years takes a toll on you, you know?"
"I'm sorry Serana, but you can't expect people to blindly trust vampires," Arven said. "Every single vampire I've ever met has tried to kill me. I'm not going to give the next one I meet a chance just because they might be nice." As he spoke Arven kept his voice soft. It wasn't a conversation he wanted to have. He wanted to reassure Serana, but he wasn't going to blatantly lie to her.
"There are good vampires, Arven."
"Can't say I've ever met one."
"That's the point," Serana said.
Arven turned his head to her, slightly confused.
"There are vampires out there who live with mortals peacefully. They just don't tell anyone what they are, or else they'd be hunted." Serana explained.
Thinking back, Arven had heard of stories about vampires who had lived in a town for decades, only to make a mistake and end up being hunted or killing half of the town before fleeing. He'd always been confused by those stories and ended up assuming that they did it while secretly trying to control the town, just to get some sort of sick entertainment from it all.
"Just because your power is given to you by an evil being, doesn't make you evil. You're a perfect example of that," Serana said with a gentle smile.
Arven couldn't think of a response to that. He did however have a question that had been bugging him for quite a while.
"Serana… why did you become a vampire?" He asked. He wasn't sure if he should, if it was appropriate. It had just been eating at him for a long time. The two had just walked out the gates leading to the camp before the fort, leaving them both alone.
Serana frowned at him. "That… is a very long story," she said.
"I guessed as much," Arven replied.
Serana grimaced. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.
"You don't have to answer if you don't want to," Arven said.
"No," Serana replied. "It's fine. It was… a family decision. Do you know where vampirism came from?" She asked.
Arven thought for a moment, but he ended up offering her a shrug. "Not sure. I'd guess a Daedric Lord."
"Yes, exactly," Serana said. "The first vampire was made by Molag Bal. She… wasn't a willing subject, but still the first."
Arven felt a chill run down his spine at the mention of that Daedric Prince. He didn't speak though, and Serana continued.
"Molag Bal is a very powerful daedric lord, and his will is made reality," she continued. Every time Arven had heard that Prince's name be mentioned it was with a hint of fear. Except for now. Serana almost sounded like she was proud to be talking about him. "For those willing to… subjugate, themselves, he will bestow the gift of vampirism. But they still must be powerful in their own right beforehand."
"So, you became a vampire for power," Arven said.
"Simply put, yes."
"Out of every Prince to follow though, you chose Molag Bal?" Arven asked in a quieter voice.
"You say that as if you know him," Serana replied.
"I might've had a run in with him before," Arven said.
"How did you of all people end up in a situation with him?" Serana asked, almost shocked.
Arven sighed. "I was asked by a Vigilant of Stendarr to help cleanse a place of Daedra, a long time ago," he said. "He thought it was just a regular Daedra, but it wasn't. I agreed to help him but once we were there, Molag Bal started talking to me. He tried to convince me to kill the Vigilant. I refused, so he instead made the Vigilant attack me."
"You refused him? How?" Serana asked.
"I told him to get fucked," Arven replied.
Serana scoffed, a slight hint of amusement hidden behind her shock. "No, I mean, how did you turn him down? You can't just say no to someone that powerful if they want you to do something."
"I don't know," Arven said. "Maybe he was toying with me, maybe it's because I'm Dragonborn and that affects things somehow, but he wasn't controlling me. He just asked. After I was forced to kill the vigilant who attacked me, he wanted me to do something else. I shouted down the door and left before finding out what that something else was."
"I'm sorry," Serana said after a pause. "I had no idea."
"I get working with Daedra, I do. I've done it before myself," Arven said as he took hold of his sword in its hilt, a blade he got from Meridia. "But Molag Bal? He's vile."
"Vile or not, he's powerful," Serana retorted.
"And you follow him willingly?" Arven asked.
"…Yes," Serana said after a small hesitation. "My family does, and we were rewarded."
"Did you choose that, or did your family?" Arven said.
"What do you mean?"
"The choice to, well, follow him. Become a vampire. Did you make that decision or did Harkon force you into it?" Arven asked, trying to lock eyes with Serana. She averted her gaze.
"I was chosen by Molag Bal, specifically. Selected. That is not the kind of thing you reject," Serana retorted.
"That didn't answer my question."
Serana's expression turned sour for a moment, but she quickly hardened it. "We all chose to take part," she said.
"Right," Arven said. "So, you followed him for a while, he chose you and made you all Vampire Lords?"
"Not quite," Serana replied. "My father had to offer… a few sacrifices. Then, there was a ceremony."
Arven raised a brow.
"We had to give ourselves. It… wasn't exactly a wholesome family activity," Serana said. Arven shuddered.
Neither of them spoke for a few moments, an awkward, uncomfortable silence falling over them until Arven decided to break it.
"Do you regret it?" He asked.
"Huh. No one's ever asked me that before," she said. "I… don't know. I think… mostly, I just hate what it's done to my family."
"Vampirism and happy families normally don't mix well," Arven said. Serana just offered him a sympathetic look in response.
"Ever thought about a cure?" Arven asked. He'd wanted to ask that for a long, long time. He just never had a chance to bring it up.
"What?" Serana said, a hint of anger in her voice. Arven thought of dropping the subject, but he continued.
"A cure," he continued. "For your vampirism."
"Why… Why would you even think of it like that?" Serana responded with a much louder voice. "This isn't a disease to be cured, it's a gift. A very, very powerful one, and after what I had to go through to get it there is no way I'm giving it up."
"Power isn't everything, Serana. Is it really worth it when it destroys your family? Ends up with you locked away for hundreds of years?" Arven said.
"What's a hundred years when I've got millennia left to live? It may have driven my family apart, but I'm still here. I'm alive, and I'm strong. And strength takes sacrifice. Not all of us are lucky enough to be handed the power of damn dragons," Serana said. Her voice held a lot of anger, yet as she finished speaking, she caught he tongue, a look of shame on her face.
"I, didn't mean…" She started, only to be cut off.
"Lucky, huh?" Arven asked, his voice turning bitter. "Tell you what, if I ever figure out how to how to make someone else Dragonborn, instead of me, you're first in line. We'll give it to someone who appreciates it, yeah?"
"That's not what I meant," Serana said.
"Sure sounded like it."
"Look, sometimes the ends justify the means, alright? Yes, what we've both been through was horrible, but it was worth it. You know how powerful you are. How powerful I am, how powerful my father is," Serana said.
"Fuck your father," Arven said. "Fuck everything you just said." Arven turned to face her as he spoke, stopping in his tracks. "Yes, I'm strong. Stronger than a lot of people but I don't care. I didn't want the power. I didn't crave it, it was forced on me, and now I feel obliged to use it because if I don't, people die. This isn't some gift in disguise, some hidden blessing, it's a curse. Over the last few years I've spent every day of my life fighting something. Someone. I've come closer to death more times than I can count. I should've died more times than I count, but this fucking blood keeps me on the brink of survival every goddamn time." As Arven spoke he clenched his hand out of anger, struggling to keep his voice in check. The sound of metal breaking quietly rang out, one of the chains in his gauntlet giving way to the pressure caused by his closed fist.
"I don't like fighting. I'm good at it, but I hate it. Fighting dragons is terrifying. Fighting Vampires is terrifying. Walking around in a dimly-lit crypt crawling with undead horrors is terrifying. If I could load this onto anyone else, anything else I would do it in a damn second and go live a normal life," Arven continued, his voice growing hoarse as he didn't give himself time to take a breath.
"Arven, I-" Serana started before she was cut off once more.
"And don't you dare act like what your family did to you was okay. I'm glad you enjoy the power you have. I'm glad you got something out of that fucked situation. There is nothing in this world, nor will there ever be, that makes what they put you through okay. You're their daughter, it's their job to protect you and they threw you to Molag Bal for his enjoyment so they could get drunk with power. I can't imagine the shit you went through, and I know what I'm imagining probably doesn't even come close to what actually happened. You didn't deserve that," Arven said. His face was growing red, both out of anger and a lack of air. He had taken a step closer to Serana while speaking, but she took two back, shocked by the sudden outburst.
"Your father is disgusting. I know he's your father, but he is, and you are so much better than him. I'm not stupid enough to think you've never done anything wrong, anything bad, you're a vampire that has lived for a long, long time. But you're not a bad person, and you are so, so much better than your father, and far too good to ever be following a repugnant piece of filth like Molag Bal," Arven said, finally pausing to take a few short breaths.
The conversation stopped after that. Arven and Serana both stood silent, looking at the other. Arven couldn't quite figure out what Serana was thinking as her expression had gone almost completely blank.
Arven exhaled. "I shouldn't have asked, that was stupid," he said.
Serana didn't say anything in response.
Shit. I really need to learn how to shut my damn mouth.
"Let's uh, just keep moving," Arven said as he stepped off. He walked for a few seconds before noticing Serana wasn't following. He turned to face her and she was looking away, arms crossed as she seemed to hug herself.
Arven stepped back towards her. "Hey, Serana?"
He could see her shoulders shuddering ever so slightly, her face twisted with anger and sadness.
"I… have to be okay with it, Arven," she said to him, although she didn't turn to him.
"What?" He asked, taking a few steps closer.
"The things he did. The things I had to go through, what my parents made me do, I…" her voice choked as she spoke, causing her to curse under her breath. "I need to be okay with it. I have to have… some, control over it." She finally turned to look at Arven, and he could see tears forming in her eyes. Arven immediately closed the distance between them, taking his gloves off hastily.
"He tortured me. Violated me, for what felt like days. Weeks. It has to be worth it, has to be worth something because if I did all of that for no fucking reason," eventually Serana's voice came to a stop, the woman unable to talk as she raised a hand to her mouth, struggling to stop the emotion she was holding in from coming to the surface.
Arven reached out with bare hands, placing his palms on her cheeks as he looked her in the eyes. His thumbs moved to wipe away the tears that streaked down her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Serana," he said before he pulled her close. One hand ran through her hair while his arm wrapped around her shoulders as Serana buried her head into the crook of his neck.
Arven held her there, the two of them alone in the canyon until he finally felt her shoulders stop shuddering in his arms.
Happy New Year! Back with another chapter, finally. Won't say too much but as always thank you for reading and I hope you're still enjoying it! In response to one of the questions I was asked on here, Arven is (currently) wearing Heavy Dawnguard armour, along with a steel shield and Dawnbreaker. He also has a belt with slots for any potions he might need and a small leather satchel attached to his thigh. Nothing to fancy, except for his sword and the enchantments he has on some of his armour pieces.
No real action in this chapter, but there should definitely be some in the next one (whenever I get around to that).