I had trekked across the breadth of Skyrim and back, but Gunmar was only just arriving at the entrance to Dayspring Canyon when Sorine and I got there. Curing hides took a while, I remembered, adjusting my bear-fur coat a little more snugly around me as the chilly night breeze began to pick up a bit.

The three of us entered the canyon, only to see flashes of fire, and hear the distant echoes of shouting. Fort Dawnguard was under attack!

A large brood of vampires were facing off against the gate guards. Somehow the gate had been forced open; a problem that would need to be remedied when the fight was over. They would need to find a way to strengthen the gate better than this for next time. And there would definitely be a next time if the three of us had any say in it.

The damned bloodsuckers were pretty arrogant about having smashed open the gate. I could hear one laughing as she told the figure of an Orc that she was going to enjoy draining him dry. Durak, I realized; the poor guy had lost two of his wives to vampires in his past.

Sorine, Gunmar, and I slid through the scant foliage left intact near the walls of the canyon. They weren't expecting an attack from behind, so I wanted to get as close as possible before they realized they were in danger.

I aimed with my bow. The first vampire to die had driven Durak to his knees and was closing in to finish him off. One moment, she was preparing to sink her fangs into his throat, the next, my arrow punched through her torso.

Durak looked around in surprise, then he gave a feral grin around his tusks as he struggled back to his feet. He knew that help had arrived.

Gunmar leaped into the fray in true Nord style; roaring and swinging his battle axe. Durak roared back with a glad welcome, and the two were soon back to back in the fray. Sorine and I drew arrows back and searched for our next targets.

A vampire dropped with a scream of agony as Sorine's next arrow struck his lower back, severing his spine. Celann blinked in shock for only a second before dispatching his crippled attacker with a shout.

"We're routed! Fall back!" one vampire shrieked, spinning to flee. He was the next to die: my arrow finding its home in his jugular.

The Dawnguard members whooped in triumph and pressed their attack, cutting down every vampire they could. Sorine and I sniped any who tried to retreat. The battle came to a sudden end as the last of the bloodsuckers fell beneath a weapon. I assessed the field of battle, noting that two thralls lay sprawled on the ground; one dead, the other unconscious.

As silence descended, Gunmar was clasping forearms with Durak with warm words. Sorine and I stepped out of the trees and hailed the panting group with a call and a wave.

"Lasirah!" Celann's shout was one of pure relief, "What timing!"

"I couldn't leave you lot to have all the fun could I?" I called back. He gave me a welcoming one-armed hug. "Looks like their strategy at the Hall of the Vigilants was one they wanted to repeat."

"Apparently so. Damn but it's good to see you! Things were getting a little desperate there," he pulled back and grinned. Then it wavered into a brief wince when he moved the arm that hadn't embraced me in greeting. "Poor Agmaer got his crossbow bolts blessed with vampire blood tonight, but other than needing a change of pants, I do believe he'll do well. His aim is impressive despite being new. Isran's been drilling lessons on him, and he's taking to it well."

"Good for him!" I approved, then said in a softer voice, "Get the surviving thrall into a cell. You'll be able to talk to her once the Vampire Seduction spell has worn off. She may be a good recruit."

He nodded, then caught my arm when I turned to start helping the guards clean up, his expression solemn. "Hey, Lasirah, I think you'd better head straight inside. We've got… a visitor. One looking for you specifically. If Helskr hadn't vouched for her… well… Just get in there. Isran's ready to spit fire hot enough to forge a sword."

A visitor? Looking for me? That Helskr vouched for…? I repeated to myself dumbfounded, then it clicked and my heart dropped to my ankles. No way! Serana?! Please Divines, don't let Isran have started anything horrible with her!

I led Sorine and Gunmar through the front doors and into the main hall at a jog. There was movement above, and I looked up to see Isran on a balcony overlooking the entrance. Before I could speak, Gunmar started in.

"All right Isran, you've got us all here. Now, what do you want from us?" Gunmar sounded like he still had a bone to pick with the Redguard.

Isran's voice was less than welcoming in response, "Hold it right there!"

I jumped in shock and alarm when metal grates shot upward out of the floor at the exits to the room, effectively trapping us. A stab of panic shot through me.

"Isran, what are you..." My only slightly high-pitched demand stuttered and died as we were engulfed in a blinding white light. Isran had cast a powerful light spell and amplified it through some sort of apparatus above us.

"What are you doing?" Sorine demanded in surprise and irritation, raising a hand to shield her eyes.

"Making sure you're not vampires. Can't be too careful," Isran's voice was cool and far too casual.

Gunmar muttered something insulting about Isran's ancestors as the blazing light faded. I swiped ineffectually at the dancing afterimages in front of my eyes. I said nothing to contradict the Nord, even when he said a few things that I was pretty sure were anatomically impossible.

"So, welcome to Fort Dawnguard," Isran said, as though he hadn't just blasted us with what amounted to concentrated sunlight. "I'm sure Lasirah has told you what we're up against: powerful vampires, unlike anything we've seen before. If anyone is going to stand in their way, it's going to be us."

I rubbed my eyes, peeved. Jerk. Not that I blamed him, per se. Strategically, what he had done was not only smart, but invaluable. Anyone and everyone who came here could be cleared as a mortal, or outed as a vampire immediately. Should another brood of vampires manage to come charging through the front door, they'd be caught in an inescapable trap. But since I was still seeing spots, Isran was still a jerk.

Sorine put her hands on her hips as the grates fell again, opening the way into the fort. "This is all well and good, but do we know anything about what they're doing? What do we do now?"

"We'll get to that," Isran said shortly. "For now, get acquainted with the space. Sorine, you'll find room to start tinkering on that crossbow design you've been working on. Gunmar, there's an area large enough for you to pen up some trolls; get them armored up and ready for use."

As the two walked farther in, Isran leaned against the balcony railing and stared straight down at me. "In the meantime, you and I are going to get to the bottom of why a vampire showed up here looking for you specifically, Lasirah. Take the stairs to your right, and we'll go have a little chat with it."

The spots had finally faded enough for me to navigate the stairs and as I joined him on the second floor, he gestured down a hall, "Shall we?"

We passed a room that Isran had claimed for himself, set apart from everyone else. A lone bed lay tucked against the wall, but there were almost no visible personal effects. He gestured to the room at the end of the hall, and I felt myself blanch. It was a makeshift torture room, complete with a rack, and blood splattered on the floor nearby. Deer skulls lined one wall… human skulls lined another, some bleached, some were fresh and bloody. Clearly, some of Isran's people were taking trophies when hunting down vampires.

I made a face. I needed to talk to Isran about those grisly trophies, and about not being the same kind of monster as the monster we hunted. Standing next to the rack -thankfully not on it- was Serana. She still had the Elder Scroll strapped to her back.

Isran strode past me and leaned against the far wall, "This vampire showed up while you were away. I'm guessing it's the one you found in Dimhollow Crypt. Perhaps it would like to start explaining the connection between its arrival and the attack that just happened."

Serana looked up in surprise, "I'm afraid I know nothing of that. I came to find Lasirah because I have something important to tell her. I came alone, and if I had been with them, I would have tried to open the gate myself. You already know that I didn't leave this room during the attack."

He scowled, nodded reluctantly, and then crossed his arms. "So let's hear this all-important message you have."

"You probably weren't expecting to see me again." The Nord vampire gripped one hand in the other and made an aborted movement that could have been wringing her hands. "I… hope you're not angry about… what happened at the castle."

"No, I'm not angry," I reassured her, "but how did you even find this place? And what in Oblivion are you even doing here?"

This was no place for a vampire, any vampire, much less Serana.

"You told Helskr how to find it while I was in the room," she reminded me and I let out a breath before nodding. "And… I'd rather not be here either, but I needed to talk to you. It's... well, it's about me. And the Elder Scroll that was buried with me. It's important, so please listen before your friend here loses his patience."

Isran was glaring icily at Serana, his fingers drumming on his arms. It was obvious that he would very much like to be doing something a lot more violent than standing against a wall, watching us talk.

I nodded, "Okay, well, let's start with you."

"The reason I was down there... in Dimhollow, and why I have the Elder Scroll… it all comes back to my father. I'm guessing you figured this part out already, but my father's not exactly a good person, even by vampire standards." I said nothing, but I'm sure my expression said what I was thinking. Serana winced and hurried on, "He wasn't always like that, though. There was... a turn. He became obsessed with immortality… You can see where that led us. A few centuries later, he stumbled onto a prophecy and kind of lost himself in it."

I groaned and pinched the bridge of my nose. I believed that the future could take care of itself, and spouting predictions and prophecies just stirred things up. Prophecies tended to be self-fulfilling anyway. The more dramatic they were, the more likely two or more factions would deliberately, or unwittingly, bring them about. "What sort of prophecy?"

Serana gave me a crooked smile, understanding my disgust. "It's pointless and vague, like all prophecies."

"Of course it is," Isran muttered sourly.

"The part my father latched onto said that vampires would no longer need to fear the sun. That's what he's after. He wants to control the sun; and have vampires control the world."

I went cold. Ending the Tyranny of the Sun, indeed.

"You said he… lost himself?" I plucked at the thread of conversation that still dangled in my mind's eye. "Sheogorath's influence?" It would be just like the Daedric Prince of Madness to get bored and turn a homicidal monster into a homicidally insane monster. Just for funsies, of course.

Her mouth twitched upward, but shook her head. "Not that my mother or I could tell. He just became absorbed... obsessed. For someone who fancied himself as vampire royalty, the prophecy is pretty seductive. Anyway, my mother and I didn't feel like inviting a war with everyone in Tamriel, so we tried to stop him. That's why I was sealed away with the scroll."

There was a lot that Serana wasn't saying, but it was better to bring it up at a later time… preferably without Isran scowling next to torture implements. I changed the subject. "You took a big risk coming here to tell me all this."

Serana nodded slowly, her eyes anxious, "I did. But something about you makes me think I can trust you. I hope I'm not wrong."

"No, you're right. We just have to convince the others you're on our side." I jerked a thumb flippantly at Isran, who turned his scowl on me.

"Unlikely, so don't get your hopes up," Isran growled at me. "You've heard what it has to say. Now tell me, is there any reason why I shouldn't kill this bloodsucking fiend right now?"

"For one thing, there is an inverse relationship between how easily you can kill a vampire and how much they deserve death," I retorted. "The ones who ought to die, are the ones that are more likely to kill you rather than the other way around. The ones who try to fit in are the ones who don't want to hurt people, not even their own attackers. Since no one here has complained about being bitten, I believe Serana has been a model of respectability."

I caught a surprised and grateful expression crossing Serana's face out of the corner of my eye.

"That's a strange bit of wisdom coming from someone who has spent half of her life hunting these undead monsters," Isran growled. "Did you kill the harmless ones, or is your winning streak merely a fluke?"

"I said 'more likely'," a hint of attitude crept into my tone, "and my winning streak required a good bit of training. In any case, we need Serana's help."

"Why, because of that story about the prophecy? About some vampire trying to put the sun out? Do you actually believe any of that?"

"Yes, Isran. I do." I told him sharply, "I was ambushed by vampires who were boasting about exactly that, while I was on the road. I didn't prompt them; so they had no reason to mention it unless they truly believed that it was coming."

Isran's expression changed from doubtful to concerned, and he nodded.

"True or not, they believe in it strongly enough to pursue it." I pointed out, "And Serana is concerned enough about it to be willing to risk death. Why else would she come here, of all places?"

"Who knows;" he sneered, his expression becoming hateful as he eyed Serana, "maybe it has a death wish. Maybe it's just insane. I don't really care."

"Okay, seriously now: it's long past time to put your hatred aside." Irritation was beginning to lace through my voice.

"Set my hatred aside?" Isran repeated scornfully, "Not a chance. It's what keeps me strong."

"It's not keeping you strong, it's making you blind!" I shot back, "You discard anything that doesn't fit your narrative. You are refusing to learn anything new about vampires, and that is going to get you, and all these people, killed! You have to learn, and you have to adapt. You are dead set on thinking that all vampires are soulless, remorseless monsters!"

"Are you joking?" He snarled back, "That's exactly what they are! They slaughtered my entire family!"

"And they enthralled my town, and butchered my would-be wife!" I shouted back. "She was the main form of entertainment at a vampire soirée. I got to sit placidly by and watch while they carved her up, alive and screaming. She was so deeply enthralled that she begged her master to cut more of her flesh off for the pleasure of his guests!"

Dead silence fell.

I clenched my fists in frustration. Damn it all to Oblivion; this was not the place or the time that I wanted to share that story. I growled to myself.

I took a slow, deep breath and glanced at Serana. She was huddled in on herself, trying to hide from all and sundry: like a whipped dog cowering before an enraged human. Her face was averted, her expression closed. It could have been from what I'd said… hearing that your kind was responsible for atrocities that affected someone you knew, well, that had to be uncomfortable at best. It could have been… but I didn't think it was. I had a bad feeling that it was the shouting that did it. Between her not liking her father, her incredibly submissive behavior, and now being in a state of emotional shutdown...

Abuse. I knew immediately. Ongoing, long-term abuse. Probably for centuries.

Another wave of fury welled up inside me, aimed at the mental image of Harkon's sneering face. I was still putting the clues together, but the picture got uglier with every piece of information I got.

I returned my gaze to Isran, who looked frozen by the revelation I had dropped on him. I wrangled my emotions down. "Isran," I spoke very quietly. "The difference between us is that I slay the monsters to protect those who would be, or are, victims. You kill out of blind hatred. You don't even see that sometimes the vampires themselves are victims of other vampires."

His gaze flicked to Serana and he blinked, some recognition about her posture that was there and gone in half a heartbeat.

"Look, I get it. I really do. It's hard to have trust in something that has hurt you so deeply. But if you don't trust her, then trust me. My instincts have yet to be wrong." I kept my voice low as I stood directly in front of him, and between him and Serana.

When in Oblivion did that happen? I wondered, bewildered by my change of position.

"Trust you..." Isran finally repeated in a low voice. "Fine. But you'd better know what you're doing."

"I do. Look, can you… give us some space?" I pleaded, "I don't think yelling was the right way for either of us to go. We both need time to breathe, and get ourselves under control. Some, more than others." I shot another glance at Serana.

Isran's mouth tightened. His gaze followed mine, took in Serana's posture for a second time, and something seemed to loosen a tiny bit in his shoulders. He strode out of the room, leaving us alone.

I let out a long, exhausted breath and gently took Serana's hand. Guiding her out of the makeshift torture room, I pretended not to notice that Helskr was leaning on the railing, some distance away. If his sad gaze was any sign, he had heard my high-volume story.

Damn it… Every time people looked at me with pity, it just made everything worse. Usually, it made me break down crying all over again. Occasionally it made me want to throw something. Neither outburst was appealing to me.

Taking Serana down the set of stairs and past the entrance hall, we ended up in the dining room. We took a couple of chairs by the fire, largely alone since we were between mealtimes.

There was no spell to retrieve her from the place she had retreated to, so I could only sit by her side and wait, giving her the support of my presence.

Time ticked by at a quiet, steady pace. Occasionally, a member of the Dawnguard would pass through the room. None of them seemed to glance in our direction, but they came through regularly enough to make it plain that they were keeping an eye on Serana.

I gazed into the fire in the massive fireplace that dominated one wall of the room until Serana took a slow, deep breath and straightened her posture.

I turned to meet her gaze, and asked softly, "Hey. Are you okay?"

She gave me a weak smile, "I guess. Thank you, by the way, for standing up for me."

"Thank you for taking such a big risk to see me, and to try to warn me about your father. I know it took a lot of courage to walk into this place."

Serana reached out, hesitantly, and put her hand over mine, "You lost your betrothed to vampires. You got an up close and personal look at what levels a vampire can, and will, sink to."

I could see she was working up to something, and nodded, turning my hand ever so slightly to hook my thumb over her fingers and give them a light squeeze of encouragement.

The Nord vampire took a shaky breath, "You suffered so much. You dedicated your life to hunting vampires. And yet, you still stuck your neck out for me… you still... stood up for me."

"Well, yeah," the words came easily, as if it were completely obvious.

"Why?"

I sucked on my lower lip thoughtfully, putting my thoughts in order. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Serana staring at the motion, and then saw a blush rising to her cheeks as she dragged her eyes away. I realized what I was doing, and why she was so flustered, and wrangled down the urge to grin.

This was the second sign that she was attracted to me. Half of me wanted to take the next step, but half of me remembered that her father had done something despicable to her. I knew, just by watching her, that I would have to be very, very careful. There was a very high chance that her attraction was mixed with a very real, and very understandable, fear of anything intimate. I wanted her to feel safe.

Pretending not to have noticed her blush, I answered her question. "When I was younger, I did a lot of people-watching. I discovered a lot can be learned by paying attention to what people say, but even more by how they act. Serana, I'm going to guess something about you, based on what I've observed. If you don't want to talk about it, say so. If I'm wrong, also say so."

"Okay." A fine tremor started in her hands, and I could see her shoulders tightening.

Tread softly, Lasirah, I warned myself.

"Serana, I think you're a survivor of long-term abuse, and that it centers around your father. He has done something to you over a long time; either physical, verbal, or mental. Maybe even a combination. Whatever it was, you suffered a lot at his hands. I can spot the ghosts of what he did haunting how you act, how you think, and how you talk." I met her gaze solemnly, "You've clearly been through a lot of pain, experienced a lot of… well… horrible, nasty things; but despite all that, I can tell you're still human. You haven't sunk to the levels that many vampires do."

Serana dropped her gaze to where I was still lightly holding her hand, and took a few heavy, shuddering breaths. "You're not wrong… But… I'm sorry. I can't talk about it in more detail right now. I don't think I'm emotionally capable right-"

Her words came to a stop when I let go of her hand and touched a finger to her lips. Her glowing eyes widened, surprise making them dart up to meet mine.

Gently. Gently now.

"I meant what I said, Serana: if you don't want to talk about it, all you have to do is say so." I kept my voice soothing so she wouldn't feel threatened, "You don't even have to explain your reasons why you can't. Although I would guess that it didn't help your state of mind that Isran and I were yelling." I slowly withdrew my finger from her lips, "If, and when, you feel like talking, I'll listen."

She swallowed hard, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks, then reached up and gripped my hand with both of hers. "It's all so stupid," she almost whispered. "You stand up for me. You treat me with kindness. You help me, and you ask for almost nothing in return… And... I can't even..."

"It's not stupid to bleed from a wound," I chided her. "That's just the way things are. Just because the wounds are inside," I tapped my temple with my free hand, "doesn't mean you're not bleeding. Serana, you may be a vampire, but you're also still human in all the ways that count. That, among other things, is a reason why my blade stands ready to meet the blood of your foes."

She sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes widening slightly as she met mine. "Lasirah… Do you know what that phrase means to a Nord?"

I smiled, "I do. The Companions like to use it as a promise of family, friendship, and support. I would like to extend that offer to you, from me."

She looked torn, like she was being offered something too good to be true. She was terrified of accepting, but terrified of rejecting it as well, "Do you… do you really mean it?"

"I do," I repeated; my gaze not wavering in my promise. "I'm a Redguard. Our culture is martial by nature; very like the Nords. So… yeah, while we are usually more suited as scouts and small, independent units, we understand the need for someone to help watch our backs. I am offering friendship. I'll even say it again: my blade stands ready to meet the blood of your foes."

The dam that had held her emotions hidden, finally broke. The tears that had been threatening, now fell. I pulled a clean linen out of one of my pockets and handed it to her.

We didn't speak for some time; she cried next to me, and I sat by her side and was just there for her. I suspected she had never had someone offer to stand at her side, openly and freely, before. And… well… After centuries of abuse and neglect, it would have left her feeling empty, lonely, and like she somehow deserved that. I could only imagine how overwhelming it had to feel to have someone treat her like she was actually worth something.

It's like coming into a warm house after spending a long time out in the cold; even a tiny bit of warmth feels like it's searing hot. The thoughts whispered in the back of my mind. She hungers for that warmth, even as she's terrified of it, and how vulnerable it makes her to reciprocate.

Slowly she pulled herself together. When she spoke again, it was with a small smirk, tinged with sadness. "Anyway, in case you didn't notice the giant thing on my back, I do have the Elder Scroll with me."

I gave her a nod and let her shift to a different track. She needed time to think. To feel. To process. She would return the promise once she was able to come to terms with the fact that it really was being offered. Those haunted by the reminders of their dark past, often had trouble realizing that words of kindness could be genuine. In the meantime, we could talk about something else.

She continued, "Whatever it says, it will have something that can help us stop my father. But of course, neither of us can read it."

"Do you know who can?" I had figured that a magical artifact like an Elder Scroll wouldn't be something you perused on a lazy Sundas morning.

"Well, the Moth Priests are the only ones I've heard of who can do it. They spend years preparing before they start reading, though." She spread her hands in a shrug, "Not that it helps us anyway, because they're all half a continent away in Cyrodiil."

I inhaled deeply, and let it out slowly, "If sprinting across all of Tamriel is what it takes, then that's what we'll do. But before we start crossing borders, let's see what we can dig up locally. Isran may have some ideas." I hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Serana, are you willing to make a gesture of goodwill?"

.

I was not surprised to find Isran waiting in a nearby hallway. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching us come out of the dining room with a dark look on his face.

"So," he said, "now that you two have had your romantic moment by the fire-" I scowled at him for his sarcastic and dismissive tone, "-tell me something useful."

"I can do better than that," Serana cut in. "We need a Moth Priest to read the Elder Scroll I have with me. We need to find one if we can, and until then, we also need to keep the scroll safe."

Isran's dumbfounded shock gave me a warm and fuzzy feeling as Serana took the scroll off her back and set it gently into Isran's hands. "I trust you can do that?"

The shock bled away to his usual scowl, though his voice was a lot less harsh for a moment as he said, "That you can." He cleared his throat and moved away from Serana, his voice once again hard. "Look, I… appreciate your… gesture, and since Lasirah continues to vouch for you, you can stay. But you are not a guest here; you are a resource. And I warn you, vampire, if you so much as lay a finger on anyone here, I'll be holding Lasirah responsible. Got it?"

Relief poured through me. No normal vampire would be held in check by a threat to the life of a human. Empathy was one of the first things a vampire lost. Isran had noticed how human Serana was acting, and was unclenching a tiny bit.

Serana seemed to recognize the faint acknowledgment for what it was, because she smirked coolly. "Thank you ever so much for your kindness. I'll remember it the next time I'm feeling hungry."

"Isran," I said, "as Serana said, we need a Moth Priest. Is there anyone among your network who might have seen one in Skyrim?"

"Actually, yes. An Imperial scholar arrived in Skyrim a few days ago. I was staking out the road when I saw him pass by. Maybe that's your Moth Priest."

Serana perked up, "Do you know where he's staying now?"

Isran seemed to realize that he was having a civil conversation with a hated vampire, because he twitched, and then his voice hardened again. "No, and I'm not going to waste what few men I have looking. We're fighting a war against your kind, and I intend to win it." His eyes flicked to me, and I could see the wheels turning in his head. I could almost see him realizing how to make this work for everyone involved. He conceded a tidbit of information, "...so here is what I'll suggest... If you want to find him, try talking to anyone who'd meet a traveler. Innkeepers and carriage drivers in the big cities, maybe. But you two are on your own." He turned and walked away.

When Serana spoke next, there was a thread of uncertainty in it, "Skyrim's a pretty big place."

I spread my hands and shrugged, "I don't know where to even begin. There are many major cities in this country, and they're all scattered to the distant ends of the land. I have no idea where a Moth Priest would even go."

Serana tilted her head and thought for a moment. "Well, back before I… you know... the College of Winterhold was the first place I'd think to go for any kind of history in anything magic. The wizards there know about all kinds of things that people probably shouldn't know about. It would be the best place to root out obscure tidbits and ancient tomes. Their library would be everything a fusty old scholar could ask for when searching for something like an Elder Scroll."

"We'll have to check the roads," I cautioned. "The Three Hold Storm hit pretty hard, and I doubt clearing the roads has been fast or easy. Still, if I'm going to agree with Isran on something, it's that keeping you out of this place as much as possible is a good idea."

"Well then, let's go. I've been wanting to get out and explore a bit more..." So softly that I almost didn't hear her, she added, "...with you."

I gave her a warm smile.