Nobody said that being the Dragonborn would be easy. Nobody said that being the Dragonborn would be difficult. There never was much known or said about Legendary figures apart from their victories and glories.
Seldom were their losses spoken of in detail. Mainly because those losses resulted in their ultimate and untimely deaths.
Cura was laying still in her bed, with not just limbs broken, but her heart, as well.
It all seemed to be going so well until she reached Markarth.
With the exception of the Thalmor Embassy, of course. What she'd learned there shook her to her core.
But, the more she began to ponder it, was Elenwen really so bad to her? Not exactly. She has been trying to reach Cura for a while now, but the young Half-Elf did not want to face her.
Especially now that their secret has gotten out.
Ulfric Stormcloak, the rebel, her blood father; how would his thoughts change about her should he discover that he has an Heiress?
If Cura ever became the Jarl of Windhelm, the first thing she would do is repair the roads in the Gray Quarter and create laws against harassment. And she would have proper housing built for the Argonians, and even allow Khajiit inside.
Everyone has so much to offer; Windhelm's closed-mindedness was its own detriment. But then again, with the war on the loose, her Father must have his mind highly preoccupied.
Jarl Cura Stormcloak. It had a nice ring to it, she felt. A much preferable life to Vigilant Cura the Dovahkiin.
She fantasized of herself sitting upon the Throne beside her Father, Ulfric, offering him counsel of the land,. while adorned in a beautiful Noble Garb, the white fur lining around her neck, decorative sash around her shoulder, and gorgeous blue wool. A lovely silver and sapphire circlet complimenting her blonde hair and green eyes.
While her father took care of business on the war front, she would care for the Hold itself.
If there were a way to switch lives right now, she would. Sadly, though, regardless of how much she willed it, she still lay there motionless, incredibly agonized and stiff on a bed in Fort Dawnguard with a casted right arm and left leg.
She looked over to Inigo, who was awake as well, but suffering from a horrible headache. "Oog... I did not even need to drink the Skooma to suffer the side-effects. I feel as though I was hit into the sky by a Giant's club."
Cura was silent in response and Isran entered the small room. "You're finally awake, huh?"
Cura looked away from him. "I wish I were dead, Isran." She was humbled in the last battle, to be sure. Never had she sustained injuries like these before. She thought that being Dragonborn made her invincible to most things, but she was wrong.
Her heart was flooded with feelings of confusion, sadness, and betrayal. Carcette turned on her and tried to kill her. Who could she trust now? Who else might flip on a septims against her?
Inigo himself was ready to attack her over a bottle of Skooma.
Cura sobbed lightly. She had been reduced to this these days, and it only further humiliated her. Cura; the Dragonborn who cried. Cura; the weak Dragonborn with a heart made of jelly. She was never meant for this sort of life.
Isran stared at her, surprised to see her so vulnerable strangely enough. "Hmm. You really have changed. I remember when you were a little brat. You were endlessly stubborn and always had something to prove to everyone. Now you have the air of resignation."
"Why am I still alive?" Cura asked him. "Why am I here in Fort Dawnguard?"
"Funny thing about that: Carcette brought you and your Cat friend here hours ago, and mended your wounds." Isran explained, leaving Cura in more confusion than she started with.
"Wait... what?" Cura struggled to pull herself up into a seated position. She seethed as the pain from her injuries flared up again.
"If it makes you feel any better, she felt terrible about it." Isran stated.
"Then why..." Cura couldn't understand the motives behind any of it.
"She is a filthy vampire, but Stendarr seems to be preserving her." Isran scratched his bald head. "For the life of me I don't understand why, but he is. She's trying to dismantle the Volkihar court from within, without her plans being uncovered while we operate here."
Cura's eyes opened. That made sense. It explains why she attacked her in the Redwater Den, why she sided with those other two, and why she sent that letter and why she brought Inigo and herself back to the Fort, rather than leaving them trapped in that cesspool.
Cura looked up at the ceiling and lightly shook her head at the absurdity. "Keeper, what are you doing?"
"Isran! They've arrived!" Agmaer's voice called out from the floor below them.
"Hold on a second!" Isran exclaimed as he exited the room and headed to the balcony, standing beside a lever.
Celann, Durak, Sorine, and Gunmar all entered the main chamber and stood on the circular platform above the water grates.
Gunmar crossed his arms impatiently. "All right Isran, you've got us all here. Now what do you want?"
Isran gestured a hand out. "Hold it right there!" He yanked the lever, which caused the ceiling to open and allow the sunlight inside.
Sorine was a little annoyed, and placed her hands on her hips. "What are you doing?"
Isran waited a moment before relenting and closing the sun roof. "Making sure you're not vampires. Can't be too careful."
Sorine and Gunmar shook their heads.
"Smooth, Isran. Really smooth." Celann scoffed.
Isran cleared his throat. "So, welcome to Fort Dawnguard. I'm sure you've heard what we're up against. Powerful vampires, unlike anything we've seen before. And they have an Elder Scroll. If anyone is going to stand in their way, it's going to be us."
Sorine immediately jumped to scrutiny. "This is all well and good, but do we actually know anything about what they're doing? What do we do now?"
Isran was irritated by her insistence. "We'll get to that. For now, get acquainted with the space. Sorine, you'll find room to start your 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."
The group scattered and quickly went on to build their stations.
Cura could surmise that these were the reinforcements she'd heard about. Sorine and Gunmar. She wanted to go downstairs to meet them, but was confined to her bed.
"Do not rush it, my friend." Inigo warned her. "Give it a month, at least."
"A month?!" Cura panicked. "I can't be bedridden for a month! Do you know how much could go wrong? No, no, nononono. I have to be up now!" As soon as her foot touched the floor, a searing pain shot through her. "Gaaahhh!"
"See? You need the rest. Indulge a little!" Inigo stated.
Cura exhaled as her heart continued to race while she clung to the mattress.
Erandur entered the room with a couple of bowls of cabbage soup. He gently gave one to Cura and one to Inigo. "Here you are! Sip up and rest easy."
"Erandur, it's so good to see you!" Cura stated as she awkwardly adjusted the bowl to rest on top of her casted arm like a shelf.
"How do you fare, my daughter?" Erandur asked formally. "I heard that you were roughed up very badly, but now that I see it for myself, I am surprised-pleasantly of course - that you survived it."
"I shouldn't have gone there. I was being reckless." Cura confessed.
"A shame you didn't bring Lydia with you. I reckon she could have helped." Erandur stated innocently.
Cura avoided eye contact, which immediately hinted to Erandur that something was horribly wrong. He looked at Inigo, who gestured a stab in the chest, depicting what happened on Cura's behalf.
It was still too painful for her to talk about.
"By Mara... I'm sorry to hear that. My condolences." Erandur offered his sympathies.
"Thank you." Cura said softly. She finished the soup and passed the bowl back to the Dark Elf.
"Give a holler if you need anything." Erandur stated. "I'll just be downstairs." With that, he walked out of the room and descended the steps.
Cura looked at Inigo. "Er... Inigo, since I'm bedridden, could you go to Stendarr's Beacon and tell Brother Adalvald all that happened? If you can stand, of course."
"For you, my friend, I will try." Inigo slowly stepped over the mattress and stood upright, and staggered to his right as the room momentarily spun around him. "Oooh, boy..."
"Are you all right?" Cura became concerned, recalling that Warhammer that whomped him in the head back in the battle.
"A little dizzy, but I can do it." Inigo pushed against his temples with his hands. He was disoriented but continued onwards regardless.
Vigilant Tolan felt a chill go up his spine as he continued to forge a crossbow outside in the Beacon's courtyard.
The chill certainly had nothing to do with the cold air; he was a Nord, after all.
Then, a familiar darkness loomed the air, and he quickly tightened the grip on his crossbow. He whirled around and fired it into the air, and a creature coated in shadow plummeted to the ground mid-flight.
"Vampire!" Tolan roared loudly.
The Volkihar vampire grunted and yanked the crossbow bolt out of his left knee and tossed it aside with a loud hiss.
Brother Adalvald rushed outside with an Imperial bow, wielding Fire Arrows. He quickly stuck one in the beast's back when he stood up.
Other Vigilants, geared in Enforcer Armour with their robes over it came rushing out, with Silver Maces and Silver Swords.
"I am not the only one here." the Vampire grinned widely as more figures enshrouded in darkness emerged from the mountain's edge, flying up and gliding about.
"No-!" Tolan felt a numb pain in his left hand. "Not... no... never again!" He began to load and fire bolts in many directions in the hopes of hitting the demons, but his aim did not live up to that first lucky hit.
Inigo came up the mountain from the slope beside and quickly rolled behind a rock for cover when he saw the vampires darting around. "Arkay's toenails! What is going on?" He wondered as his head spun from the motion.
Brother Adalvald reached Tolan in the center of the storm. "What are our chances this time, Tolan?" he asked, dropping the formality as they stood back-to-back.
"Not good... there are at least five of them." Vigilant Tolan shuddered as he periodically fired a bolt when shadow approached his line of sight.
"There are twelve of us out here." Brother Adalvald fired a Fire Arrow and managed to clip the arm of a passerby fiend, causing her to derail and fly into the large stone wall to the west.
"There were twenty-three of us in the Hall." Vigilant Tolan illustrated their precarious position.
Inigo came running out, and shot the downed Vampire in the back. "Take this, you snaggle-toothed monsters!"
Vigilant Tolan and Brother Adalvald both turned to see Inigo.
"Ah, Cura's Khajiit friend, right?" Brother Adalvald recalled. "Thanks for coming to help!"
"It is no problem!" Inigo joined the two on the battlefield. "Maybe I can show you both a thing or two on using a bow."
"Where is Cura?" Vigilant Tolan asked, sliding the comment on his lack of skill off his shoulder.
"She..." before Inigo could say, a vampire swooped down at him, causing him to roll to the side and dodge. "...I will tell you after the fight, okay?"
"Yes." Brother Adalvald agreed, and Tolan simply nodded as he replaced the crossbow with his Warhammer, which he abruptly brought down on a swooping Vampire's skull.
A vampiress grabbed Adalvald from behind and lifted him up into the air. "Hwah?!" the religious brother exclaimed in surprise as his feet left the ground.
"Adalvald!" Vigilant Tolan cried out as he latched a hand around his ankle in attempt to bring him back down to earth.
Unfortunately, the Vampiress' supernatural strength won over, lifting both of them off the ground.
Inigo was trying to aim his bow at the vampiress, but his vision was becoming lopsided. He fired the arrow and missed her completely.
Suddenly, an icicle whizzed through the air, tearing into the vampiress and causing her to drop Tolan and Adalvald. The two nearly slid off the cliff's edge on impact, but Vigilant Tolan snagged Adalvald by the back of his leather surcape, and held onto the crags to support them.
Inigo looked to the source of the icicle; it was Serana, the vampiress they met in Dimhollow Crypt. She summoned a Gargoyle from the air and commanded it to attack.
Inigo flinched and readied to attack it with his sword, but it breezed past him and attacked one of the vampires that was about to tear him apart from behind.
"You're welcome." Serana stated to Inigo.
"You! Why are you helping us?" Inigo asked, confused beyond reckoning.
"Would you rather I help the other side?" Serana chuckled smugly.
"No, no. Keep doing what you're doing!" Inigo reiterated. "It is most helpful to us! I am not complaining." He readied his battle stance.
"Just try and keep up." Serana fired another icicle and missed her target. "Hmph. Just give it one second..."
"One second for what?" Inigo asked.
"One second before the eagle returns to her nest." Serana spoke cryptically.
Inigo was confused, but managed to route a couple of the vampires, in tandem with the Vigilants' arrows, into the center of the field.
A loud crack in the sky was heard, and what looked like a ball of light came crashing down onto the vampires in the center, forming a small crater in the explosion of light evaporated the remaining vampires, save for Serana, who his behind the stone wall.
When the mist from the evaporated snow cleared up, Carcette pulled her Warhammer out of the chiseled rock. Stendarr's Aura began to clear off of her, leaving her visible. There were certainly advantages to being a Vampire Lord who was also a War Priestess of Stendarr, to be sure.
Once the Vigilants realized what happened, they stared on in awe and terror, especially when one remarked about her glowing eye.
Inigo scuffled backwards. "Oh, shit! Oh, no! Not her again!" he panicked, remembering her hand around his jaw and how easily she could have broken it in hindsight not even 24 hours ago.
Carcette glared at Inigo with her single eye, and he waved both hands defensively. "Cura is not with me! You cannot kill her because... er... we moved... her... yes..." His lies were absurd to the former Keeper, but she understood why he made them.
Carcette turned away from him and faced Tolan and Adalvald, who pulled themselves back from the precipice. "Is everyone all right?"
"Keeper... you're..." Brother Adalvald had heard, yes, but to see her directly.
Carcette looked around at the scared and battered Vigilants, all who were ready to fight their lives away at the smallest hint of a twitch on her part. Six of them were killed in the onslaught against the Vampires, and many of them were covered in scratches and cuts, while some escaped without harm.
"That's not important." Carcette told them. "Now, listen to me-you have to get out of Skyrim. The Volkihar clan will continue to hunt you, and my cover will be blown if it's known that you live. Leave for Cyrodiil, or join the Dawnguard in Dayspring-just abandon this fort for the next year or so."
"..." Everyone remained silent, allowing her words to register.
"This is my last order to you all as Keeper of the Vigil in Skyrim. Abandon the Vigil, for one year. Tend to your injuries. Go into hiding. Do what you must, but do not, under any circumstances, come back here." Carcette warned. "Or they will kill you. You've seen the evidence!"
Vigilant Tolan stepped forward. "Your last order?"
"I've already written my letter of Resignation. I need to send it out to Chorrol." Carcette told him. "The Keeper of the Vigil cannot be a vampire, as you know."
Brother Adalvald nodded in acknowledgement, but still had a hard time digesting all that he was hearing.
"Who will lead us in the meantime?" Vigilant Emma raised her hand from the back. "Those of us who choose to remain here in Skyrim, that is."
"Isran." Carcette stated. "If you go to the Dawnguard, assimilate. At least until this vampire menace is sorted out."
"And what of you, Carcette?" Vigilant Tolan slowly approached her. "Will you... be all right?"
"I'm going to continue my work." Carcette told him. "Stendarr still has use for me. Be careful out there, you two." She gestured towards Tolan and Adalvald especially. "And, in the event of something... dire... it was wonderful, working with the two of you all these decades."
"How did we get to this point, Keeper?" Vigilant Tolan asked. "Things were going quite well, and then, in a turn of the wind, they fell to the kennels."
"It was all my fault." Carcette owned up to her part in its collapse. "I left us naked and unprepared to face this threat. As much as I hate to admit it, Isran was right all along. I should have had us relocated to the Beacon long ago, and we could have had some defenses. Even if the travel was inconvenient, I should have found a way." She looked incredibly disappointed in herself, and in the situation. "As well, my faith wavering allowed the Vampires to enter the Hall. I've been having difficulty connecting with Stendarr for the past year... a lack of hope and much jaded reflection on my part, I think."
Vigilant Tolan and Brother Adalvald exchanged a look, and then shook their heads.
"No, Keeper. It happens to all of us at some point." Brother Adalvald stated. "I've struggled with my faith at times, too."
"But a Keeper of the Vigil must not. We can't afford to." Carcette stated. "Hopefully the High Vigil will send a better Keeper to fill my position. Only time will tell."
"I understand." Brother Adalvald accepted the facts. "Walk always in the light, Carcette."
Carcette knelt down before one of the slaughtered Vigilants and gave him a small blessing before smearing some of his blood on her robes in distorted fashion, and then repeated with the others, as well. This was, of course, to make her story credible to Harkon, concerning her defeat of the Vigil. This time, Harkon would only detect Human blood on her, not Animal blood.
The Vigilants began to move quickly, many heading down the slope to find their way to Dayspring Canyon, and others traversed the mountain pass Southward, in the hopes of eventually reaching Cheydinhal, where they could begin a lengthy journey to Chorrol.
Alerting Tolan and Adalvald, Serana approached Carcette. "I'm not going back to the Castle."
The Breton looked at her strangely. "Why aren't you? Your father..."
Serana shook her head. "I'm going to tell Cura about what's happening. She deserves to know."
Brother Adalvald became concerned. "Where is Cura, anyway? Why hasn't she reported in? Do you know where she is?" He pointed to Serana with suspicion.
Inigo pointed at Carcette and sneered. "This one beat her within an inch of her life! She is lying broken in bed and in agony! I hope you are proud of yourself!" His anger was real, even if he wasn't pointing directly at Carcette, but at the second one he saw beside her. "She trusted you, and you did that to her! Completely eradicated her morale! May S'rendarr curse you!" He spat into the snow.
Carcette felt guilt welling up as Inigo continued to bring the point home. "Do you know what Cura has gone through? Her horse was killed, her Housecarl was killed, she was locked away in the worst prison in Skyrim with creepy Forsworn inmates for three days, a Daedra forced her to kill another Vigilant, and she thought you were dead, too! She has not slept in days and has literally desired death. If you're about mercy, perhaps that would have been it, next to what you did."
Carcette grit her teeth and looked away from Inigo, then, clenching her fist, she quickly took to the skies in black smoke and escaped.
"Moron." Inigo spat. He turned to speak with Tolan and Adalvald. "What are you two going to do?"
"Going to take some provisions and head to the Fort." Vigilant Tolan stated. "Maybe Isran could find some use for a washed-up Vigilant."
"I second that." Brother Adalvald agreed. "I'll gather the artifacts and flee to Fort Dawnguard as well."
"That's all well and good. Who's going to show me where it is?" Serana asked.
"I will." Inigo told her. "Follow me!" he gestured for her to accompany him as he ran down the slope.
Half an hour passed in the Fort and the air took on a chill.
Isran entered Cura's room as she was still recuperating and wore an incredibly dire expression on his face. "This vampire showed up while you were asleep. I'm guessing it's the one you found in Dimhollow Crypt. Says it's got something really important to say to you. So, let's hear it."
From behind the corner of the wall, Serana stepped into view and approached the bedridden Cura, who was stirring awake. "Wow... she wasn't kidding when she said she beat you black and blue... I didn't think that skin could even turn that colour, to be honest."
Cura stared at her blankly; dumbstruck. Why did Serana come to see her? She betrayed her, didn't she? Did she? Cura wasn't even sure anymore. Still, she thought that perhaps it would be important to hear her out. Perhaps she was misunderstanding things. Confusion seemed to be the order of the day lately.
"You probably weren't expecting to see me again." Serana twiddled her fingers awkwardly and stood nearer to the wall, Isran adjacent to her and Cura in front of her.
"What are you doing here?" Cura asked.
"I'd rather not be here either, but I needed to talk to you. It's important, so please just listen before your friend, here..." She jabbed a thumb in Isran's direction. "...loses his patience. It's... well, it's about me. And the Elder Scroll that was buried with me."
"What about you?" Cura was wondering if there was something wrong-or at the very least, something more wrong than what she's become accustomed to as of late.
"The reason I was down there... and why I had the Elder Scroll." Serana spoke softly. The topic appeared to be a sensitive one for the vampiress, but she would divulge regardless. "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. He wasn't always like that, though. There was... a turn. He stumbled onto this obscure prophecy and just kind of lost himself in it."
"'Lost himself'?" Cura raised an eyebrow and slowly pulled herself up into a sitting position on her bed. "What do you mean?" Wasn't losing oneself a prerequisite to becoming a Vampire in the first place, or was the Vigil wrong about that, too?
"He just became absorbed... obsessed. It was kind of sick, actually. The prophecy said that vampires would no longer need to fear the sun. For someone who fancied himself as vampire royalty, that's pretty seductive." Serana walked her through the motions. Vampire Lord, Harmless Sunlight; endless bounties and near-invincibility. "Anyway, my mother and I didn't feel like inviting a war with all of Tamriel, so we tried to stop him. That's why I was sealed away with the Scroll."
"Especially since we have organizations like the Vigil of Stendarr and the Dawnguard." Cura stated proudly.
Isran shook his head and sulked.
"Yeah, no offense, but the Vigil of Stendarr really isn't that tough." Serana hated to break it to her, but if she and Carcette and Inigo hadn't intervened, they would all have been killed.
Cura pursed her lips and returned to the matter at hand. "You took a big risk coming here."
"I did. But something about you makes me think I can trust you. I hope I'm not wrong." Serana expressed.
"No, you're right. We just have to convince the others you're on our side." Cura stated.
"Once you're feeling up to it." Serana noted Cura's current condition., to which the Breton agreed.
"I can wait. I don't feel like returning to the Castle." Serana stated. "Besides, I know how it feels to be left alone for a long period of time. If you want to chat, I'll just wander the Fort and the Canyon."
"I'd like that." Cura smiled. Serana was truly the first vampire she'd ever met who didn't seem to be violent of bloodthirsty. She hoped Inigo wouldn't be too anxious.
Isran interjected quickly and glared at Serana. "Don't feel like a guest, because you're not. You're a resource. You're an asset. In the meantime, don't make me regret my sudden outburst of tolerance and generosity, because if you do, your friend here is going to pay for it."
Serana bit back with sarcasm. "Thank you for your kindness. I'll remember it the next time I'm feeling hungry."
"All right, you've heard what it has to say. Now tell me, is there any reason I shouldn't kill this bloodsucking fiend right now?" Isran took offense to her sarcasm, and turned to Cura directly.
"Because we're going to need her help." Cura put it plainly.
"Why, because of that story about the prophecy? About some vampire trying to put the sun out? Do you actually believe any of that?" Isran found the notions absurd, and in hindsight, realized that perhaps he needed Door Guards.
"Why else would she risk her life to come here?" Cura asked.
"Who knows, maybe it has a death wish. Maybe it's just insane. I don't really care." Isran held firm to his disdain and drowned out reason.
Cura was becoming a little irritated. "Set your hatred aside and try to see the larger picture, Isran."
"Set my hatred aside? Not a chance. It's what keeps me strong." Isran laughed and walked out of the room, leaving Cura and Serana alone. If she trusts this vampire so much, then she shouldn't worry about being bitten.
After a few moments of silence passed, Serana spoke up and gestured towards the Elder Scroll bound again to her back. "So in case you didn't notice the giant thing on my back, I have the Elder Scroll with me. Whatever it says, it will have something that can help us stop my father. But of course, neither of us can read it."
"Who can?" Cura asked.
Truly, who could be so gifted as to be able to discern the words of the Gods themselves?
"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. Not that it helps us anyway, because they're half a continent away in Cyrodiil." Serana stated.
"I'm in no condition to travel to Cyrodiil." Cura bemoaned.
"We don't have to, right this moment." Serana rolled her eyes and reminded her of the fact that they had the Scroll now. "Rest up first."
Cura silently nodded and slowly lay her head back down on her pillow and closed her eyes. She did not have much in the way of restful sleep, as Vigilant Tolan and Brother Adalvald had just entered her room.
"Carcette did this?" Adalvald was near horrified. He knew she was dedicated to her cause, but he would never have fathomed something like this occurring.
Vigilant Tolan approached and knelt beside Cura in her bed and examined her broken arm. "Ooh... that should take six weeks, I think."
"The Dragonborn is out of commission for six weeks? That's six weeks that she'll be less prepared for Alduin in the future..." Brother Adalvald sighed. "But... if it is all part of the Gods' Will, I suppose it must come to pass."
Inigo entered behind them. "Ah, Dee and Dum! Nice to see you again!"
"Quiet, Cat." Vigilant Tolan clapped back. "We're here to help, in any way we can."
Cura opened her eyes and saw them. "Vigilant Tolan! Brother Adalvald! You left the Beacon to come see me? I'm touched."
"Carcette told us all about what was going on... though evidently she left some details out." Brother Adalvald mused.
"What is she doing?" Cura asked them. "I'm so confused..."
"She's playing ally to the Vampires to buy the Dawnguard time to act. And, uh, she's officially stepped down." Vigilant Tolan rubbed the back of his neck.
"What do you mean 'stepped down'?" Cura asked, becoming a little concerned.
"She's resigned as Keeper of the Vigil, given the circumstances." Brother Adalvald reassured her. "Stendarr's Temple in Chorrol will have to enlist a new Keeper to come to Skyrim."
Cura was stunned. Carcette was no longer the Keeper of the Vigil. What does that mean going forward? Is she abandoning Stendarr? Is she going away forever? Is she going to kill herself after the deal with the Vampires is done? No, no. Cura could not stand by for that. "I have to speak with her." Cura insisted. "I..."
"You need to rest for the time being." Vigilant Tolan scolded her. "Heal up nicely and then you can talk to her again."
"Rest easy, Cura." Brother Adalvald gave her a gentle brush on the forehead before turning and heading back out.
Tolan gave her a gentle shoulder shake. "You'll be all right, kid. You're made of tougher stuff than you realize." He headed to the door. "And we're here, in the Fort now. For the next year. It's Carcette's last order. Keep it discreet, will ya? Good night." He left Cura lying there with more questions than answers and nowhere to go.
Inigo approached her to explain what Carcette had ordered them to do in more specific detail.
Carcette stood before Lord Harkon in his room. The Vampire Lord lowered the book he held up to his face to hear his attendant. "Yes?"
"The deed is done, my Lord." Carcette took a stage bow, leaning forward with a hand to her chest. "I have emptied Stendarr's Beacon and am sullied with the blood of my former allies. They will no longer pose an issue."
"They never did." Harkon slapped the book shut and laid in on the small footstool in front of him before standing up and walking over to Carcette, towering over the short Breton woman.
Carcette felt a tad anxious but concealed it to the best of her ability.
"You've done well, Carcette." Harkon took her hand and kissed the top of it in noble fashion. "That was merely an exercise. Now, you have confirmation that I am your true, and only master."
Carcette nodded. "As you say, my Lord."
Harkon licked the dried blood on the top of her gauntlet, and Carcette was a tad disgusted, and yet it looked so soothing. Anything to sate her thirst...
She leaned forward and faced the blood on her sleeve. Human blood.
She leaned forward to lick it, but hesitated.
Harkon stared at her for a moment when he noticed her hesitant reaction, and her eyes met his own.
"Oh, I do not wish to be rude, my Lord." Carcette chuckled lightly. "It would be most unbecoming of me to groom myself before you like a cat." She walked around him and walked towards the door, when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
"Perhaps you need a bit of rest. I suppose it was a... tall order for you to carry out." Harkon insisted.
Carcette shrugged. "If you wish, my Lord." She continued onwards through the halls and found a coffin near Hestla's workstation and popped the lid and slid within. She could never become accustomed to this lifestyle. She missed her sturdy, rugged bed.
A few days passed and Inigo came rushing upstairs in a hurry, to the surprise of the new Vigilant recruits and Dawnguard members. "Cura! Cura! Wake up! Wake up!" He began to shake her profusely. "We have to get you out of here!"
Cura snapped awake with concern. "What's going on? Are we under attack?"
"No, but it is the Elves! They-" Inigo was interrupted as Elenwen entered the room, closing in on Cura once and for all, looming at the entrance like a dark shadow.
The Half-Elf's eyes widened in shock.
"So, I've finally found you." Elenwen narrowed her slanted eyes. "My sources had last seen you in the Rift, and all it took was some questioning of a few Humans to locate you here."
Cura began to shift around anxiously.
"You've got nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide now." Elenwen informed her.
Cura frantically tried to scramble out of her bed, but in her condition it was nearly impossible.
Elenwen laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, to keep her still and calm. "Calm yourself. I just want to talk. I've been dying to see you again, and I fear that our last meeting ended quite abruptly. Until now, you've been quite elusive."
"Because she does not want to see your ugly, conniving face!" Inigo snapped and withdrew his sword.
"Watch your tongue, or I will have it cut out of you, Khajiit." Elenwen brusquely turned around to face Inigo. Her scorn met his ferocious gaze and unwavered. After all, what was an inferior creature like a Khajiit to the splendor of the Altmer?
"Get away from her or you will have a new mouth in your arm!" Inigo threatened outright.
"Inigo, please don't." Cura pleaded. "Just... wait outside. I... I don't think she's here to harm me."
Inigo paused for a moment, but eventually relented, sheathing his sword and walking out the door. "I hear one yelp and the wall will be painted red!" He threatened on the way out.
"How rude. This is the company you choose to keep?" Elenwen sneered at Inigo as he walked out before facing the bedridden Cura once more.
"He's my friend." Cura informed her. Indeed, even if they didn't have years of history like Inigo seems to believe, he has still become her friend regardless.
"You need better friends." Elenwen scoffed.
"I don't think I could find better friends." Cura complimented Inigo. He was daring to slay the Thalmor Ambassador herself for Cura. That was really something.
"Your little friend told Ondolemar of our relationship." Elenwen stated. "You were locked in Cidhna Mine and he attempted to have you bailed out. Ondolemar cleared your name under Thalmor authority."
"..." Cura fell silent.
"You also made quite a ruckus in the Riften Sewers." Elenwen stated. "Many of my men died under Rulundil's watch."
"I didn't kill them." Cura stated. "I only battled against Rulundil himself. I wanted to deal with it diplomatically, if possible! I... wanted to protect my friends, but one of them went berserk."
She was beginning to grow anxious as she tried to justify her presence.
Elenwen opened her bag that she was carrying and handed Cura an Apple pie. "Yes, well, before I forget, I've brought you a gift. So you know that there are no hard feelings."
Cura took it in stride, giving her a small smile.
"Just tell me where Esbern is." Elenwen added in.
Cura was cornered. Thankfully, her brain was still a little scrambled from her encounter with Carcette four days ago. Her memory was not working. Who was Esbern, again? "Er... ah... he's... in Falkreath, I think?" She rubbed her forehead. "No! No, he's in Solitude. Solitude." She nodded to Elenwen. "I think he said he was going to Solitude on the 30th of Frostfall, if I remember correctly..."
Elenwen glared at her for a moment. "Your memory is off, I presume? Though I'm not surprised. It is clear you've been injured. Poor dear."
Cura had a difficult time discerning whether she actually cared, or whether it was an act to try and build her up to ply information from her. From her previous dealing with Elenwen, she knew that the woman had a forked tongue, often using subtext to communicate more than the open words themselves. Whatever she meant here, she truly hit the nail on the head. Cura truly could not remember.
"...And this white streak in your beautiful golden mane..." Elenwen touched Cura's locks and examined the pale strands of hair that adorned them like a thick strip. "What have they done to you in that Prison? I will have their heads!"
Cura could only stare blankly at the Altmer. She genuinely sounded angry.
"It wasn't the Mine. Not solely." Cura explained. "It was a combination of things; Markarth, other problems... the Dragons... Helgen..."
"So that was you in Helgen!" Elenwen exclaimed. "When I'd first met you at the Party... I'd thought I recalled you from Solitude, and upon recollection, I had. But even back then, I'd known that I'd seen you somewhere else before."
Cura then recalled Ralof pointing out the Thalmor speaking to General Tullius just within the entry gate to the ill-fated city. "Yes! I was in the Prison cart with Fa-er-Ulfric." Cura confessed.
"I was trying to stop that execution." Elenwen stated. "But Tullius, the fool, was insistent on having Ulfric's head."
"No doubt for Thalmor interests." Cura scoffed. "What does keeping Ulfric alive do to benefit the Thalmor?"
"Nothing." Elenwen confessed. "The Nords, in truth, would only see his death as cause to focus on their cause with greater hatred. Ulfric Stormcloak would have become a martyr to their cause on that day."
Cura thought about what she was saying. Technically, if the Nords held Ulfric up as a martyr for his 'unjust' death by Imperial execution, it would fan the flames of the Civil War, and would probably benefit the Thalmor more, if the ongoing nature of this war was what they wanted.
"I wanted to keep Ulfric alive." Elenwen restated. "I, myself. Elenwen. Not the First Emissary Elenwen."
Cura was stunned. She was being genuine right now, unabashedly honest. She really did love him.
The Altmer avoided eye contact with Cura, and instead looked to the wall on the other side of the small room. "You should be residing in a better place than this." She changed the subject. "You're always welcome at my Solar. I will notify my guard that if you ever decide, you may stay there as long as needed."
"Er, thank you." Cura was surprised by the generous offer.
"You're welcome." Elenwen smiled as she gently caressed her daughter's hair. "You know... I'd like to know more about you. About who you are. Who you've become. Do indulge me at some point, yes?"
Serana sneered from around the corner as she overheard. She then turned around and walked down the hall, headed up towards the Library.
"I wouldn't mind a little..." Cura shrugged. Maybe things were starting to look up for her. "I'm sure you've heard about my power over the Thu'um."
"Yes, I've heard rumours." Elenwen stated. "Very much like your father."
"Is he Dragonborn?" Cura asked. She really had to know. Ulfric had many of the signature Dragonborn traits: desire for power, ruthless nature, could use the power of the Voice...
All that remains is to see if he could absorb Dragon Souls.
And Cura had just confirmed herself as Dragonborn to Elenwen. Way to not tie yourself to the Blades, Cura.
Esbern!
That's right! He's a Blade like Delphine. The foggy memories were slowly coming back.
"No." Elenwen debunked. "Not to my knowledge. He studied to become a Greybeard, but the Great War pulled him to his duty of service."
"Did you meet during the Great War?" Cura asked.
"Afterwards. When he was taken Prisoner after the Markarth incident." Elenwen stated. "I was to interrogate him, but I foolishly fell in love with those soft, blue eyes..."
Cura was surprised.
"I smuggled his letter to his father's funeral out from the dungeons for him." Elenwen added. "The Great War was harsh, and confusion was left in its wake, but it was necessary. And yet, it spurred the romance between an Altmer and a Nord."
"I... it's unbelievable." Cura remarked. "And yet it's true."
"And thankfully your father's identity remains unknown." Elenwen was relieved. "You must never allow it to be known. Do not ever loosen your lips again, to friend or foe. For all of our sakes." She warned Cura sternly and walked to the door.
"You're leaving already?" Cura called out to her.
"I'm a very busy woman." Elenwen reminded her. "I cannot spend the day talking to you, regretfully. I must return to my duties. We will talk again."
Cura nodded. "I understand. Thank you for the pie and the talk."
"It was my pleasure, my dear." Elenwen stated. "Do keep in touch; the Embassy is open to you." She headed around the walkway and proceeded down the stairs.
Cura sat upright and Inigo returned to her. "Wait, I shall test that pie first." He quickly took it off Cura's casted arm and tore a big chunk out of it with his teeth and began to chew.
"Inigo!" Cura squealed in shock. "That was my pie!"
"Just making sure it is not poisoned. You know how witches and assassins love their apples..." Inigo left only a quarter of the pie left, and it was spattered with his saliva. "I can confirm that it is indeed safe! Here you go." He handed the messy tray back to the disgusted Breton.
"Ewww..." Cura gnarled her face as she saw the spit dripping off the ravished tray. "Actually, why don't you have it?" She pushed it back into Inigo's hands with her left hand.
"How nice of you to offer, my friend!" Inigo exclaimed as he ate without reservation.
Cura sighed and laid back down on her bed and closed her eyes.
These were going to be long weeks.
