WRITER'S NOTE, PLEASE READ: I am against the habit of writers using sexual assault and rape as part of a story plot to add supposed 'depth' to their characters. I am very firmly in the camp that says it is absolutely not a subject to be handled lightly. However, it is, unfortunately, very much part of Serana's past, though it is heavily glossed over in the game. I have tried to handle it with the respect that this heavy subject matter deserves, but I do not blame my readers if they do not wish to read this chapter. I haven't included graphic details, but please be warned: the subject matter is brought up. Please make your decisions based on your comfort in regards to this very difficult subject.

I tried to handle this as best I could. I'm not gonna lie… this chapter was difficult to write. Please treat me kindly; I did my best to handle this properly.

The stairs ended up draining the last bit of stamina I had for the day, so we decided to make a camp close to the staircase while we got a feel for the Soul Cairn.

The landscape was desolate, bleak, barren, and gray; marked by ruins, bones, gravestones, and strange-looking fissures in the ground. A pale mist slowly wafted out of various fissures that didn't look like water vapor. The place had a scattering of dead trees, and a type of funnel-shaped fungus that Serana eventually identified as Soul Husks. I was not fond of the name, but Serana stopped to harvest enough of them to fill a pouch.

"I have only ever seen sketches of these before, but information about them is scarce. I'm hoping my mother can tell me what alchemical uses they have," she explained.

I shrugged my acceptance. This was probably going to be her only chance to harvest samples of unique flora, and I had no objections to her expanding her knowledge.

The sky was a disturbing mottled pattern, with blue, black, and purple energies. The colors swirled and shifted like a creepy version of Skyrim's nighttime aurora. I looked straight up only once, and had to look away again, feeling downright ill. The colors of the sky slowly spiraled inward toward what looked like a hole made of pure darkness. The light was drawn into the center of that greedy, consuming void, and nothing came back out again.

Though there were no clouds to speak of, purple lightning lashed down from the sky every few seconds. Thankfully, some of the structures seemed to attract lightning strikes.

The place was full of the bones of countless dead, including the skulls of what could only be ancient dragons. Dragons had been extinct for millennia. I could only guess that the nature of this place didn't offer an environment where remains would properly return to the earth.

I could see structures and buildings in the distance, built out of black stone. Distance proved to be a fickle thing; the place had a pale purple haze over anything farther than an hour's walk. What structures I could see had what looked like gigantic black soul gems floating above them. I had to look away from them too; seeing them gave me a really bad feeling.

The trees were too rotted to be of any use for a campfire; crumbling as quickly as the ones in Valerica's garden had. We settled for cold rations and rest. Setting up camp turned out to be ridiculously difficult for me, and my body felt like it was made out of ebony ingots.

Serana grew more and more concerned for me as I lagged in my half of the camp chores. Finally, she put a hand on my shoulder and gently ordered me to sit down, promising to take care of setting up camp.

"Ugh," I wheezed, wiping sweat from my brow. "Sorry, Serana. I didn't expect the soul trap to drain me this much."

"I… I'm sorry," she said softly, sounding distressed.

"No, don't apologize," I reassured her between deep breaths. "This was my decision, and you warned me this would happen. I just feel bad that I can't do my share of the work."

Serana gave me a small smile, "That's okay. Maybe now I can take care of you a little." She finished setting up while I watched her through a fog of exhaustion.

Closing the tent flaps against the creepy sky and lightning helped us pretend that this was just another camping spot in the wilderness. I lit a lantern as a way to push back the oppressive darkness. In its flickering light, we ate in silence and my breathing finally evened out.

Then Serena turned her glowing amber eyes toward me. "Lasirah?"

"Yeah?"

"Can we… um… can we talk?" Her voice was hesitant.

"Sure." I settled myself into a comfortable position so I could rest while listening. "What about?"

"Well, I think I'm ready and willing to tell you everything… about my father. About my mother. And about me." Even in the dim light that mostly obscured her expressions from me, I could feel the weight of her words.

Crap. This is going to be a hard conversation, I realized. I took a deep breath, "Okay. Start from wherever you feel is best."

Serana settled down next to me; close but not quite touching. She was quiet for a long moment, then softly offered, "It's a long story. And a very difficult one to tell. It's very… ugly, and if you don't want to hear it, I'll understand."

I gave her a small nod and a smile, "I appreciate you giving me an out, but I do want to hear the whole story."

Serana nodded back, her eyes thoughtful, "I guess... we have to go way back to the very beginning. Do you know where vampirism came from?"

I tilted my head and thought for a moment. No way could vampirism have come from one of the Divines. So that had to mean… "I would guess it came from a Daedric Prince."

"Exactly!" She nodded her approval, "The first vampire came from Molag Bal. Lamae Beolfag, or Lamae Bal as she later came to be called, was..." Serana hesitated, then said, in a softer voice, "...not a willing subject."

"Stendarr preserve us all," I whispered. The book Opusculus Lamae Bal had been in Valerica's laboratory. I had missed reading it, not knowing what it contained. Now I knew... Molag Bal was responsible; the Daedric Prince of domination and the enslavement of mortals. He was, among many other names, known as the King of Rape.

I closed my eyes, getting a sick feeling in my stomach. I had a very vivid and graphic idea about exactly how Molag had... 'blessed' Serana and her family with her form of vampirism.

She took a shaky breath, not looking at me; "My father was a king when he was a mortal. But for all his power, riches, and land, he faced a foe he could not slay with his armies: his mortality. I grew up with him, but he hid the signs of his descent from both my mother and me. He pledged himself to Molag Bal, and my mother and I followed suit. He was... good about feeding us just enough information to make the worship of a Daedric Prince seem like an okay thing. Mostly because he waxed on about how if we pleased our master, we would live long, happy lives as a family."

"Our library was quite complete, back in the day. My mother and I were frequent visitors to books about alchemy and gardening. I even learned about necromancy there. I knew that we had books on the Divines and the Daedra, but had never paid them much mind before. The day we started our worship, every book that detailed Molag Bal's true nature... well, they disappeared. I went to read them, and they simply weren't there. The books had even been shifted around just enough to conceal the gap in the shelving." Serana's gaze was full of self-blame, as though she should have somehow known what her conniving father had hidden from her. "My mother and I were… trained for our positions as worshippers. We were trained in all the things that were expected of us."

My hands fisted at my sides. "I would say," I said very carefully, "that your father's turn from a good man to an evil man happened way before he became obsessed with the prophecy."

"You would be correct," Serana seemed fixated on the bedroll beneath her. Almost of their own accord, her fingers splayed over the leather, then fisted it in a death grip.

I scowled murderously at the far wall of the tent, Harkon's superior sneer etched in my mind. "I think somewhere inside of him, he knew that you would turn on him if he let it slip before it was too late. He had to manipulate you, to get you used to things... to make it 'okay.' In some twisted form of logic, he probably thought that once you became vampires, you would somehow understand. Molag isn't Sheogorath, but I suspect there's a certain kind of madness required for worshiping him fully the way your father did."

Serana's nod was tiny; once up and once down, "I almost would have preferred simple madness. At the very least, Sheogorath is equally as likely to help as he is to harm. My father could have... I don't know... collected calipers and string. With Molag's touch, it was a focused kind of madness; the kind of madness that knows it is wrong, and does it with sadistic glee. My father sacrificed a thousand innocents in Molag Bal's name, to give us our immortality."

My mouth went dry. A thousand innocents... in other words, virgins had been sacrificed to the Daedric King of Rape... and worse, their very souls were sent to Molag's realm for an eternity of torment at his hand. The silence seemed to roar in my ears as Serana struggled to continue with her story. Gods… to be so obsessed with your own wish for immortality that you would do something so heinous to so many people… and then, to your own family!

"He hid that fact from us too, you know?" Serana's voice quavered. "We never knew that he was smuggling women into the underbelly of the castle, and... and..." She gave a full-body shudder, a soft sob getting past her control.

I pulled a linen out of my pocket and gently wiped at the tears that streamed down her face. I saw a flash of appreciation in her eyes beneath the pain. I offered it to her. When she accepted it from me, I shifted my weight and let my shoulder brush hers. She buried her face in the linen for a few long moments and sobbed quietly.

I wanted to hold her, but I also feared that if I hugged her, she would lose the strength to expel the poison that was still pent up in her memories. I could only let her know that I was there for her, and let her choose to make the move to accept more solid comfort.

When she could speak again, she continued as though each word was a thorn being drawn out of her, "The ceremony to become a vampire was... degrading. Let's not go into detail about it. And you can probably figure that it wasn't exactly a wholesome family activity..." She cleared her throat with difficulty. "Thanks to Molag Bal's so-called reward, the three of us are now the Son and Daughters of Coldharbour."

She took a deep, shuddering breath, "Anyway… When it was all over…. When we turned, my mother changed. She and my father turned on each other, with me caught between them."

I could see the anger and resentment in her glowing eyes. Then her face darkened, and I could see the pain come to the forefront again, "One night, my father finally had enough. He told her she was ungrateful, that she was disparaging the sacrifice of a thousand innocents for the gift we had been given. He just... threw the knowledge in her face like she was a petulant child who was not grateful that he had spent a thousand Septims, instead of a thousand lives. Living, breathing people, and their lives were spent as easily as coins."

I had already sworn to kill Harkon to myself, and had made promises to my patrons of the same. Perhaps I would swear it to Serana, someday soon. But now was not the time for that; she needed to share her story without me going all melodramatic. I breathed slowly and held onto my temper firmly.

Serana still wasn't looking at me, but her next words turned my hot fury into ice-cold horror. "My father had me dress in white for the ceremony; a symbol of his final gift to Molag. A thousand innocent women sacrificed… and one more innocent handed over for the gift."

Oh, gods… It was all just so sick. Sick and disgusting. It was a very cold comfort that Serana had at least been an adult when transformed. I didn't even want to think about what it would have been like for her if she had been a child when Molag Bal had changed her. No. I had to call it what it was; when Molag Bal had raped her.

And Serana had never experienced sexual intimacy before. She had only ever known one man: her father. The man who was supposed to protect her, love her, and teach her how a real man should love, respect, and stand with a woman. Instead, his first real lesson had involved him handing her over to a monster. I had thought her father had done something heinous to her; this wasn't what I had imagined, but it was just as vile. Betrayal like that left deep, deep wounds. Trust wasn't something that would come easily from such a past.

I now knew why she was telling me this. Of course, she hadn't trusted me in the beginning, but desperation had sent her back to me. And I had rewarded her a thousandfold by standing up for her, and protecting her from the Dawnguard's hatred. Time and again I had given her my trust. Time and again I had looked her in the eyes and told her that she was a person. Time and again I had shown her that I would treat her with dignity and respect. And now… Now I had shown her the ultimate trust; I had let her use a terrible and dangerous spell on me. I had willingly become completely vulnerable, and even told her out loud that I trusted her. I had earned the right to see her vulnerable in return.

I reached out and touched Serana's hand as softly as a butterfly might. I glided my fingers into position until I was cradling her hand in a gesture of support and reassurance. I had to swallow several times before my mouth was wet enough to speak without choking on the dryness. "I take it that this was the final turning point for your mother, and that she went farther than just spewing words at him."

Serana shook her head, "It was the turning point for all of us. Even those who are willing to take on Molag's 'blessing...' Well, they don't always survive. I'm not even sure how I was strong enough. There were times when I wanted to die…"

I gave her hand a little squeeze, and she accepted the gesture. "Those that survive, are forever changed in some way; more than just their vampirism. As you can tell, my father's not exactly the most stable. My mother went kind of crazy with him, though more out of bitterness and blame. No surprise though… it's not the kind of 'blessing' you spring on your family. Especially not from a… monster. Not from something inhuman. I… had known Mother hated him… I just… didn't think she would follow in his footsteps as she had."

Silence fell. I didn't say anything. What could I say? There were five schools of magic, and not one of them had the words or the power to heal the wounds that had been inflicted upon her. Even Restoration could only heal physical wounds.

Finally, I managed to say, "Do you… want to stop? Don't get me wrong, I still want to hear the rest of your story, but if you need time, by all means, take the time you need."

Serana swallowed hard, "It's hard to talk about, but I don't want to stop. And I don't want to be left alone right now. Give me a little time and just... stay here with me for a while."

"I'm not going anywhere," I promised.

She was quiet for a long time.

Eventually, she started up again, "Anyway… my mother turned on my father, but never again so openly. She withdrew upon herself, and began plotting and planning. She wouldn't talk to me much anymore, and when she did, it was short and never with the warmth she used to have. I was caught between them, while still suffering the effects of... what had been done to me."

The sound I made in the back of my throat was very low, but full of deadly promise as I again imagined Harkon's sneering face.

Serana still hadn't let go of my hand, but she gave me another small acknowledging squeeze. "By then, my father was Molag's man, down to his core…. Which meant that he followed his master's core values of domination and enslavement. Since my mother and I are… like him, we couldn't be enslaved by him. But he was very good at the domination bit. Even now, I can't... I'm... held back, by the conditioning he put me through, and even by some of the things my mother did. Even though it has allowed me to survive this long, becoming a vampire has definitely been a bad thing, on the whole. Every day is a fight to move past what was centuries in the making, starting with... the ceremony, and ending with me being locked underground for over four thousand years."

I spoke carefully, "I'm probably going to say something very clichéd, and I hope you can forgive me for saying it... It can't have been easy; turning your back on all that. I can't even imagine how hard it must have been to come looking for me. Especially knowing who I work with, and even what I must represent to you. I think it's incredible that you've gotten this far, and… well..." I fumbled, then said, "Thank you for entrusting me with your story."

I saw something unclench in her posture, just a little, "You trust me with your life and soul. It's not exactly an even exchange."

"Maybe not. But I'm still grateful that you trust me enough to be this vulnerable, considering what you've been through." We both lapsed into silence, our thoughts churning.

After letting the silence continue for a few heartbeats longer, I gently prompted her. "So the prophecy eventually came into play," I guessed, "and that's when your father's focus switched."

She made a face, "As I said, my father is Molag's man. He spent a few centuries of his eternal life subjugating helpless humans, and gathering sycophantic vampires to stroke his ego. Sunlight drains us of our strength if it touches our skin, and can cause severe burns if we're directly exposed for too long. My mother and I discovered that we were able to take precautions and still enjoy the sun's warmth, even if we couldn't bear it on our skin. But for him, even the precautions were grating. He dominates others, and nothing should be allowed to dominate him, or so he thinks. When he caught wind of the Tyranny of the Sun prophecy, he seized the opportunity."

"What exactly does the full prophecy say?"

"That, I don't know. From what I've been able to pick out, the general idea is that a Daughter of Coldharbour can somehow find a way to block out the harmful effects of the sun, thus giving vampires free rein. The true details are somewhere in the Elder Scrolls which, I think, is why I was… buried with one. We now know about Auriel's bow, whatever part that plays."

"Auri-El is the Elven variant of Akatosh." I said, remembering my childhood lessons about the gods. "So that would make the bow a very powerful Divine weapon."

Serana's pale skin blanched even further, and I nodded solemnly. A weapon forged and used by the highest god in the pantheon, and Harkon planned to corrupt it for his purposes. Assuming that the weapon didn't react violently to its corruption, it would be devastating in her father's hands. And if any weapon could do something to the sun, that weapon, in particular, would be capable of it.

Then a scary thought struck me. "I am going to assume that you and your mother are the only Daughters of Coldharbour that Harkon can get his hands on. He's already admitted that he'd happily kill your mother. Since she is here, where he can't get to her, that leaves you as the sole source of his needs... I think it's very important to ask the question: does your father even see you as family?"

I suspected that the answer was an obvious, and resounding, 'No.' From my perspective, it didn't even need to be asked. Her own mother's journal had said as much. But at the same time, Serana had been subjected to her father's insanity and abuse for an incredibly long time. He had groomed her like a filly in the stables to take his trappings of control and manipulation. The fact that she was breaking free of his influence, enough to come to me for help in stopping him, was a good sign. But I wanted to be sure that Serana understood, and could admit to herself, that the outcome of this prophecy was going to be ugly.

To my relief, she met my eyes steadily, "You know, I've asked myself the same thing. I thought..." Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her tunic, her glowing eyes filling with pain. "I hoped that if he saw me, he might feel something again. That some part of him remembered all the little things that make me his daughter..."

Her eyes dropped, and sadness welled up to replace the pain. "But going back to the castle just confirmed something that I guess I've known for a long time. I don't think he even sees me as his daughter anymore. Not in any true sense. To be honest, my life doesn't even really factor in at this point. I'm just... a means to an end. I could be seen as useful, if only I would see things his way. But affection? Love? No. 'Power takes precedence.' " The bitterness in her quote said there was a lot of story behind it.

I winced. Yeah, she knew. Tentatively, I asked, "Will it be hard for you if we have to kill him?"

The half-laugh that came out of Serana had no humor in it, and a lot of sadness. "'If?' I've been assuming that's where all this is going. I can't even say that it surprises me. I kind of figured we were heading for this someday. I just didn't know when. I've… I've been trying to make my peace with it."

I reached up, slowly, to stroke her cheek. She flinched, and I froze at the flicker of fear in her eyes. Then saw the guilt and shame that followed after. I sighed heavily and dropped my hand to my side again.

"Serana," I spoke gently now, feeling the faintest of nudges from Stendarr as I sorted through the words I wanted to say. "What happened to you and your mother was wrong. So incredibly wrong, and in more than one way. Molag Bal's ways aren't the norm, but I have a sneaking suspicion that… well... being your first time, he's planted the idea that that's how it always is between people. That's not true. What he did to you has nothing to do with attraction or intimacy, and everything to do with power and cruelty."

Serana was looking a little away from me, but I could see the fear on her face, at war with the things that I was telling her... Things that she wanted to believe, but was afraid to allow that vulnerability and trust to shake the walls she had built.

"I am attracted to you. That means that I like you; that I take pleasure in your company. Your personality, your appearance, even just your presence. I'd like to think that we're friends, and that you share some of the attraction to me in the same way." This ground was a little shakier than I wanted to admit. She had shown signs, but I also didn't want to read too much into it. Anything she felt was probably tangled up in ugly snarls of emotion. It would be difficult to separate it from the terror and pain that Molag Bal had planted.

"I would like to build some intimacy with you..." I admitted, and saw the dread spark in her eyes. Her breathing got a little faster. I took a deep breath and plowed on, "I won't force you, Serana." I spoke firmly, so that there could be no confusion, "I meant what I said; you will always have control over yourself. I want you to be willing. More than willing, I want you to like it. Want it. Look forward to it. Intimacy is more than the physical act of sex; it's being familiar and comfortable with the other person. I want us to be able to feel like we can always trust each other, in more ways than just helping one another stay alive in a fight. In more ways than… than me allowing you to cast this spell on me, or you telling me your story."

Serana's fingers fluttered restlessly over the sleep roll beneath her.

Deer before a sabre cat again...

"I don't know how to… I've never…" Serana seemed to be struggling for words.

"I can show you how it can be a wonderful thing," I was being very gentle again; very careful; "but even if I do, you will still be in control. A single word from you is all it takes. I will never, never take away your power to refuse. I am not, nor will I ever be, like Molag Bal to you."

Serana's glowing eyes closed, and tears began to fall again as her expression crumpled.

"Oh honey," I half whispered. As Serana curled up into herself, I slowly, gently slid my arms around her and held her, rubbing her back soothingly. "This is part of intimacy," I whispered, "and all I'm doing is trying to comfort you. That's all. I won't go farther than this unless you want me to. And if you don't want even this from me, just say so, and I'll stop."

Serana didn't say anything else, but very lightly, she leaned against me as I held her. I could only imagine the terrible memories that were swamping her right now. I knew she needed to be held.

And she let me.