Dedicated to, inspired by, and ALL OF THE BLAME UPON, Shaun McKay of the former Skyrim Addicts Facebook Group. His commentary on Serana's ineligibility for marriage (mods excluded) gave me a great big kick in the feels, and the result was this story. Shaun, my friend, I don't know whether to tip my hat to you for the inspiration, or kick your arse for causing this damn thing to appear in my head and demand to be written. :P

Note: Lasirah = lah-seer-ah

"Stendarr, upon my life, and upon my soul, I swear to you that I will dedicate my life to protecting the innocent; especially those who would be, or have been, the victims of vampires. I want to protect people from danger. I want to protect my friends, my loved ones, even just those who cannot protect themselves. I want to bring justice to those who commit atrocities, and redemption to those who can be saved." -Lasirah, after destroying the coven of vampires that slaughtered her village

"Meridia, I shall wield Dawnbreaker in your name, and cleanse the corruption of false life." -Lasirah, after slaying Malkoran.

Chapter 1: Unexpected Allies

Fort Dawnguard. Once the home to Tamriel's greatest faction of vampire hunters, now it was just one of many abandoned forts in the Rift. Nestled in a hidden valley, behind a small entrance tunnel, Skyrim's various wars and invasions had left the place untouched. As far as I could tell, the fort was almost pristine; simply needing new doors to replace the ones that had rotted over the centuries. There were holes in the front door big enough to stick my head through, for starters.

After exploring to make sure nothing had made its home inside, I smiled in satisfaction and nodded to myself. It was a start.

My black, shoulder-length hair tickled my cheek and I brushed it back as I took inventory of the dust and the occasional moldering crate. It would take a lot of cleaning, but it would serve.

The valley was quiet, with a waterfall and a river teeming with salmon. The occasional deer and a rabbit or two roamed around the valley. I found a small cave system that held a sleuth of five bears and managed to take them all down with my arrows and sword. Cleaning the kills took a considerable amount of time, but I soon had their meat and furs cured. I could sell the excess in the nearby city of Riften for some decent coin.

I made a thick coat out of some of the fur and a brand-new sleep roll out of the rest. Being a Redguard in Skyrim meant I was always cold, especially at night. My light armor was hardly warm enough to keep out the bitter chill; the cold ran right through my body as if my flesh and blood were nothing but linen and veils. The thick fur would go a long way toward making me comfortable.

Once I could get the word out and put some recruits to work, we could fortify the area immediately around the fort.

A few weeks into my stay, I sat in the vestibule, eating a strip of bear jerky and plotting a route to the various cities. My head snapped up at the sound of the heavy front door opening, and I dove behind a pillar. The sound of boots on the stone floor identified a lone man. He was walking into the fort, bold as brass and casual as could be. He didn't expect anyone to be here.

I sighted my elven bow around the pillar, keeping myself as protected as I could. "Stranger," I called out, "I don't know who you are, but you have two choices… leave, or I cut you down."

The man was a Redguard like me, sporting a beard that reached his collarbones, and a head that was meticulously shaved. He stopped at the sound of my voice. "Friend," his voice was gruff, "perhaps you ought to think about how many of you there are, versus how many of us are just outside."

"I have slaughtered entire bandit camps on my own," I retorted, "so your numbers don't matter to me. Now, on the slimmest of chances that you're about as lost as a horker in the desert, this is Fort Dawnguard. It is not the home for bandits, lowlifes, or wandering wastrels. Kindly go wander the sands until they claim you."

The man's eyes narrowed, then he lifted his chin, "We are not bandits. I am Isran..."

"I don't care; you're still trespassing." The moonstone-tipped arrow gleamed in the dim light as I sighted along it. One shot was all I needed. All he had to do was give me an excuse.

The man's face shifted into an annoyed expression at my interruption, "I am Isran, and my people are here to reform the Dawnguard."

My bow wavered and then sank, the arrow easing down toward the floor. I knew my mouth had fallen open in surprise but didn't bother to close it yet.

"We're here to protect Skyrim from the vampire threat," he continued. "We'll welcome the skills of a sharp-eyed archer if she would kindly refrain from putting an arrow through my chest."

I was silent for a long moment, then stepped out from behind the pillar, eyeing Isran with wary hope. "The Dawnguard? You're here to reform the Dawnguard?"

"We are," the man confirmed.

"Then..." I put my bow away, "...then things are better than I feared. I came here to begin what you have already made progress on." I extended my hand, "Lasirah, Warden of Dawn. I'm a vampire hunter myself. Well met, Isran…?"

His lips quirked upwards in a small smirk, "Just Isran. No titles for me." He clasped my forearm in the traditional greeting. "If you're a vampire hunter, then the best step we can take is to share intel. What have you got for me, Lasirah?" Isran's dark gaze spoke of experience and knowledge. It was possible that, for the first time in over a decade, I was meeting someone I could talk shop with.

Joy washed through me, and for the first time in a long while, I felt a smile making its way across my face. "Oh by Stendarr, what haven't I got for you?!" I rubbed my hands together, "Let's find a map! I can point out the vampire nests I've cleared out, and then we can share everything we've learned over the years."

Over the next hour, I pointed out several vampire nests that I had cleared out, including my most recent achievement near Morthal. Isran sounded impressed, "You did all this on your own? You had no one to help you?"

"I'm used to working alone," I admitted. "I trained for a long time, and I refuse to take a green rookie into a life-and-death situation."

Isran nodded in curt understanding.

"Anyway, near Morthal, there was a very old vampire named Movarth Piquine. From what I was able to gather, he was trying to take over the town by converting citizens." I sighed, "I was able to free Hroggar from the thrall spell he had over him, but his wife and child didn't survive."

Isran was a sharp man, and jumped on the information, his brown eyes meeting mine. "I only knew that those under a vampire's control would do unspeakable things. What do you know about it? What can we look for?"

I shuddered and felt my mouth twist in distaste, "It's called Vampire Seduction. The spell needs to be cast once every twenty-four hours to maintain control over the victim. While under control, the thrall will protect the vampire with their life. They'll have no free will of their own. You can kill a vampire, but it won't immediately free the thrall. You will still have to wait until the spell runs out. If you can contain the thrall for longer than a day, the vampire's influence will break."

"Interesting," Isran rubbed his chin, fingers combing through his beard. "We will have to set up cells for any thralls we manage to capture, though it's a risky venture."

"Risky, but worth it," I wasn't going to budge on this point. "The most dedicated slayers in Tamriel are the ones who have personal experience with a vampire's cruelty."

"Believe me, I know that all too well," Isran nodded, a familiar dark expression washing through his eyes. "What else can you tell me about their Seduction spell?"

I shrugged a little, "It's cast like any other; by making the right gestures and focusing their Magicka." I pantomimed raising my left hand above my head and made a clutching motion, and then a tossing gesture, as though throwing a ball. "It's an aqua-colored light while it's being cast, but the victim won't glow to give the spell away, the way some spells do. Instead, it creates… chains in the thrall's mind that allows the vampire to subjugate their victim." A sudden chill from my memories made me rub my hands over my arms.

Isran stilled for a heartbeat, and he turned with a solemn look. "Why do I get the feeling that you know about this spell firsthand?"

"Because I do," I retorted shortly, mentally shying away from dark memories. "Let's just say there's a very personal reason why I've dedicated my life to hunting vampires."

"Well then, having a… personal reason is one thing the two of us share," Isran's voice and expression softened. Then he cleared his throat as though to cover up the moment of weakness, "All right. Unless you have cleared out more nests than the ones we've talked about, we're done with this." He gestured to the small flags that had stood on the map to note the nests I had cleared. "Give me some time. I can compare our knowledge with what you have given me, and come up with a plan for our next target."

The main door creaked and then banged shut, causing me to spin around and seize the pommel of my sword. A Nord came stumbling in, and my hand drifted away from my weapon again as he stuttered, "Is… Isran!"