The Volkihar
Loading Screen… The Volkihar are a race of ancient Atmoran vampires predating Lamae Bal by a thousand years…
~Q~Q~
Serana Volkihar rolled over in the sheets and tucked her head on Stalf's chest. Putting her hand over his stomach. She kissed him on his bearded cheek and said, "wake up, sleepyhead."
The hairy Atmoran yawned and pulled her close. "Mmm, you're quite warm. You must be drinking a lot of Khajiit blood."
Serana smiled and pushed his muscled arm off her, rolling out of the bed. Her room was dark, bloodred curtains drawn over the window. The black curtain nooks on each side. A bookshelf with archaic tomes, and her bed with dark green sheet covers all atop black stonework. – She peaked outside the window and saw the crisp, white fields of Atmora glisten in the morning sun. Glacial waves erupting against the Edge of the World. The white waters roiling around the spire.
Serana put her clothes on, royal vampire armor. A maroon undergarment covered by black leather and silver embroidery with a cape. She slid her tiara through her hair and brushed the black tresses with her wide-tooth comb.
Stalf's face fell. "You're getting dressed already? I kinda wanted to…"
"Maybe later," Serana sighed.
The Atmoran vampire threw aside his sheets, pulling his underwear on. Stalf Einersen was a muscled figure with short, messy, dirty blond hair and a thick beard. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, planting deep kisses on her neck. She could feel him press up behind her.
"We have a few hours before everyone wakes up," he whispered lowly into her ear. He started swaying her side to side with him.
He's always so lustful.
"Alright." Serana gave in, turning around and kissing him. They'd been friends with benefits for quite some time and in all that transpired, the man never seemed to want to be anything more.
Stalf's beard stabbed into her chin as their tongues collided. He began rubbing his hands up and down her body. They pulled off their clothes and got under the bedsheets, making love again, hugging each other in the bed.
Serana stared up into Stalf's eyes as he kissed her again.
"Oh, I love you, Stalf." She wrapped her fingers around his scalp, making eye contact with him and pressing their foreheads together.
After going for another hour or two, they finally finished. Stalf came up behind her again as she dressed and wrapped her in a deep hug, his nose breathing in the scent of her midnight-black locks.
"Stalf." Serana turned around and looked at him deeply. Staring into his ice-blue, vampiric eyes. "What am I to you?"
Stalf let go of her and shrugged on his trousers, buttoning his black leather over his hairy chest. "Oh, please not again, Serana. We have a nice little thing going here, don't ruin it."
She exhaled loudly, "I know, I know. I was just hoping that maybe it could become something more…"
"Look, Orthjolf needs me so I gotta go. See you again tonight." Stalf strode off, opening the wooden door.
Serana plummeted into her chair and frowned. "Yeah, sure." She tossed aside her comb.
If only there weren't so few of us left. I could probably find someone better than him. Someone who doesn't wanna use me. They didn't number very many in Volkihar Spire. – Their clan lived in a huge tower off the northwestern coast of Atmora. The width of a castle and a height rivalling the White-Gold Tower.
She got up and trailed past the open door, drifting through black marble hallways of ancient Atmoran design, gothic portraits hung up on the walls. The staircase was a spiraling descent downwards. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling of the courtroom and her father and mother's thrones were on the right side, on an elevated stage. Two tables faced parallel to each other and one perpendicular at the forefront. A red carpet with gold patterns was laid down the center. Various court members were feasting on flesh or drinking blood or wine or even coffee in some cases. They were the last people left on Atmora, the first vampires who could survive the subzero temperatures. The Volkihar clan were the last Atmorans left, having been here since the Merethic Era.
Her father and mother sat on their thrones, smiling at her as she walked toward them. It did little to cheer up her sullen mood, but she attempted to grin as well. It came out stiff and awkward. Her father, Harkon Volkihar was a blond-haired man with a thick beard. Her mother, Valerica Volkihar, had midnight-black hair. They all had the same ice-blue vampiric eyes though and stood at similar heights of five-eleven. All adorning similar sets of armor.
"Aaah, my beautiful princess." Harkon stood from his throne and welcomed her into a warm embrace. He kissed the top of her head when she ducked slightly.
"Serana. You look radiant." Valerica hugged her too then kissed Harkon on the lips.
Harkon's face became soft. "What's wrong my dear? You look upset. Was it something we did?"
Serana shook her head. "No, no you guys are best parents anyone could ask for, it's just…" She scratched the back of her head. "No, nothing." She carefully eyed Stalf who was flirting with Fura Bloodmouth. Her blood boiled at the sight.
I'm done with him. He can find some other woman to use. She resisted the urge to clench her fists and forced herself to keep her composure cool.
"Let's just begin with the court proceedings." Serana pulled a chair out and sat down on it. She opened a vial of blood potion and poured it into a glass, sipping the cold-blooded flavour. Argonian.
Harkon put a hand on her shoulder, clearing his throat. "Remember, Serana, I am always here if you need to talk."
"Thank you, father." She smiled sweetly at him. He nodded happily and took his seat on the throne.
Harkon ticked his wineglass with his spoon, ceasing the conversation in the chamber as all eyes fell on him. Though Lokil Bloodmane and Orthjolf Einersen were eyeballing Serana with glazed looks. Vlad Dracona, Harkon's advisor strode in through the front door, freezing white winds outside, followed by Murlst Jek, the aged watchman. Everyone in the court was Atmoran. – Vlad had curtained black hair, the signature vampiric blue eyes, and a staunch face over a muscled physique. He was one of the few men in the clan who'd never made a romantic advance toward Serana or stared at her in a creepy fashion.
Vlad bowed in front of the royals. "My King, Queen, Princess." Sitting down next to Valerica as Serana was seated next to Harkon.
"What news have you brought, Murlst." Harkon stroked his freshly oiled beard.
The watchman bowed slowly. "A fresh brood of thralls have arrived from Fort Piquine. We've placed them in the dungeons."
The lesser, Tamrielic vampires of Fort Piquine in northwestern Skyrim, led by the Duke Movarth Piquine, would capture criminals and bandits from the land and ship them to Atmora to use as thralls for feeding.
"Excellent." Harkon lipped his fangs. "Was there any elven or Argonian ones?"
"I believe so, Movarth heard your request for a variety of flavors." Murlst scratched his neck with one finger.
"Are there any Breton thralls?" Serana loved Breton blood. It was warm and tasted like it was seasoned and sweetened to just the right degree.
Murlst shook his head. "Movarth sends his condolences, Lady Serana. He says his scouts were unable to catch any Breton this time."
Serana sighed. "Guess I'll settle for elf then." It was the closest thing to authentic Breton in terms of taste. Though Nord was closer in warmth.
"Now," boomed Harkon, "let the court session begin."
Vlad stood up, curtseying. "Our scouts have reported Tamriel is still at peace though illegal activities have slipped under Emperor Titus Mede the second's eyes. For starters we know slavery was outlawed long ago but a woman known as Jenassa Xera has been given a free pass due to her ranking within the government, to garner ' volunteers' for the upcoming Aetheriucs Competition. Our spies believe that Xera after the success of her venture, will propose a bill to reinstate slavery."
"Discuss." Harkon nodded.
"We should go there straight away and aim to stop her." Serana pounded her fist on the table.
"My Princess, with all due respect, that is a terrible idea. We should not aim to interfere with Tamriel's affairs," warned Hestla Goldilocks.
"I think the whole thing will backfire anyway. Who knows Charlamagne himself might return," Orthjolf postulated, looking around at the others.
I need to brush up on my Tamrielic history. It's been a few hundred years.
"I must say, observing that whole continent's history from the outside has surely been insightful." Harkon cleared his throat. "Thank goodness we don't live there."
I wouldn't mind exploring it.
After the session, Serana went to their library, run by the long, blond-haired Velquil Velaseal. The thin-faced man nodded with a smile as she entered. Serana waved back and gazed around. The room was expansive, with tall shelves of books lining it back and forth, dust-covered tomes and tables. There was a second floor too, composed entirely of wood.
Serana perused the collection until finding the one she wanted, it was a new one, recently added to their library, judging by its lack of dust.
The Events of the Fourth Era by Viscount Marcius Carvain
4E 1 – End of the Oblivion Crisis and the Guice bloodline.
4E 5 – The Red Year. Refugees from Morrowind flee to Skyrim.
4E 16 – Solstheim is given to Morrowind.
4E 17 – Titus Mede becomes the new Emperor.
4E 168 – Titus Mede II ascends to the Ruby Throne.
"Huh, not much." Serana placed the book back and returned to Velquil. "Say, how do the people of Tamriel believe vampirism came to be?"
Velquil pushed his monocle further into his eye socket. "No, no, dear. People on Tamriel believe vampirism came from Lamae Bal, and they're right. Tamrielic vampirism did come from Lamae Bal, but Atmoran vampirism came from you, your mother and father, as you know."
"Was Lamae taken advantage of by Molag Bal in the same way as I was?" Serana's brows concerted.
"Whereas you and your family gave yourselves willingly to become Daughters of Coldharbour to survive Atmora's declining temperature, Lamae did not. Hence why Atmoran vampirism is much stronger than Tamrielic vampirism."
"People on Tamriel think Lamae was the first vampire when it was really me and my parents." Serana rubbed her nose. "Sorry, that was so long ago, in the Merethic Era, my memory's a bit foggy. Can't believe I'm five thousand years old." She laughed.
"You don't look a day over twenty-seven." Velquil returned to stacking books into a pile, wiping a hand over the black tabletop he presided over.
"I wish we could live in Tamriel." Serana leaned against the edge. "There would be so many fascinating places to explore, so much history to see, so many boys to choose from," she uttered the last part under her breath.
"They'd persecute us, Serana."
"Not if we were disguised. I've heard vampires in Tamriel hide amongst the common folk." Serana gloved her fingers together.
Harkon waltzed in then. "Oh, Serana, one of the thralls is causing trouble. Could you perhaps talk to her and get her to calm down?"
"Sure thing, father."
Serana stalked down the marble halls, dialing down steps and passing small indoor waterfalls that flushed into fountains. She walked by some of her fellow vampires as they rested or schemed away in lounges or nooks. A giant mirror stood in one, this one enchanted so vampires could see their reflection. A few couches and hot tea were placed around. Serana made her way into the dungeons, a table with tools atop it. Rargal Thrallmaster was there.
"Oh, hey, Serana." The greasy haired nightstalker sidled over to her.
"I'm just here to take care of the thrall that's been causing trouble." Serana held back an eyeroll.
"Oh, Salonia Caelia. She's through that door, in the cells." Rargal's snot-faced expression twitched. His silver and grey armor twinkling under the candlelight. "She's guilty of taking advantage of underage boys."
The 'cells' were black-gated prison dorms. Skeletal anatomy littering the ground and crunching beneath her feet.
Serana transformed into a bat, flying over to spook Salonia.
"AAH!" The Imperial gawked.
Serana morphed back into an Atmoran. "Heard you were causing trouble."
"Something wicked this way comes." Salonia shivered in her rags.
"Oh, please, where have I heard that before." Serana shoved the woman aside.
Salonia fell over and grabbed Serana's boots. "You must believe me. I saw them. They're spreading the skooma everywhere. And someone in this court is helping them!"
"Now I know you're full of it." Serana kicked the woman away and grabbed her by the throat, injecting her fangs into the Imperial and sipping her blood.
After that she went into the training room. Various target dummies and a blacksmith forge were on the side. A ring for boxing and martial arts in the center chamber. Stalf and Vlad were shirtless, sparring with each other in the boxing ring. Serana took a seat to watch the exchange.
They touched gloves and both backed away into their respective corners. Vlad sped up and did a flying jump-kick against Stalf who dodged it. They followed each other down and Vlad threw a sidekick that barely grazed Stalf. The latter landed two big punches as Vlad moved forward. Stalf threw two more strikes, but Vlad had his guard raised and blocked the blows. Vlad followed Stalf down, exchanging various kicks and punches. Then Vlad lunged and wrapped his arms around Stalf's body and brought them both down onto the mat. Vlad wrapped his legs around Stalf's waist and pulled the latter into his guard. Vlad started throwing up submissions, raising his legs and attempting to wrap them around Stalf's neck. Stalf struggled on the ground over Vlad, the latter's legs around his throat.
Stalf broke out of the submission attempt and landed some ground and pound on Vlad while Vlad tightened his guard. Vlad elbowed Stalf on the top of his head as they continued to grapple on the ground. Vlad threw up kicks until he broke free and grabbed Stalf, ramming him against the cage. They kneed each other and Vlad tightened the clinch. He pressed Stalf against the octagon. Stalf then flipped Vlad onto his back and grappled atop him once more. Stalf slowly pushed Vlad toward the corner of the cage as they continued their grappling. Vlad held down Stalf's arms to prevent the bigger man from landing anymore punches. Stalf postured up briefly and got up-kicked by Vlad. Allowing the raven-haired man to stand up once again.
They threw more kicks and punches until Vlad wrapped his arms around Stalf's back and attempted a takedown which only got halfway. Allowing Stalf to press Vlad against the cage. Stalf's head pressed against Vlad's chin forcing the smaller man's teeth to show bare as he defended a takedown, moving back and forth against the enclosure.
Vlad kneed Stalf and broke free, chasing him down the cage again with a volley of kicks and punches. Stalf threw a head kick which rattled Vlad even though he blocked it. Vlad then did a jumping knee and got smacked square in the jaw by Stalf and knocked to the floor. Vlad hastily scrambled, throwing up kicks but that didn't deter Stalf who jumped on top of him and secured his arm under Vlad's head, passing half guard and getting Vlad in an arm-triangle, forcing him to twist then tap out due to the pressure of the choke.
Stalf jumped up, victorious, raising his hands and winking at Serana. He jumped over the cage and approached her, stepping smoothly on the grey stones. "Well, what did you think?" He was breathing hard as he roped a shirt on.
"I wish you lost." Serana scowled. "I saw you with Fura."
Stalf put his hands on the back of his head. "This again."
Serana saw Vlad get up off the ground and glide shamefully across the room, blood leaking from his eye. She felt bad for him.
"You're with me, why are you flirting with other women?" Serana clenched her white-knuckled fists. "I'm done with you."
Stalf's expression fell. "You can't be serious. It was just friendly conversation."
"It's not only that, you don't want something serious and I do, so I'm out." Serana turned around and walked away.
She went out the front door. Atmora had mountainous ice-white sculptures made from snow and frozen bleached lakes with gigantic trees all frosted over. Serana trailed around the Spire's perimeter, observing the white and gold make of the wide tower. It twisted up and had a crown like roof. Situated behind a waterfall that was completely frozen. Serana's wings grew out of her shoulder blades, and she flew up to the crown of the building.
A grey and black dragon sat atop the perch, winding back horns on its forehead. Six-limbed, four legs and two wings protruding from his back. Grooved scales and a barbed tail.
Durnehviir turned his head toward her, "greetings, Lady Serana."
Serana sat down near the drake, petting his scales. "Hey, Durn. Seen anything interesting lately?" She propped her elbow on her knee and put her cheek against her fist.
"Actually, yes. I thought I saw something moving in the snow." The Dragon blinked a few times, its wide eyelids drawing over its yellow eyes.
"Was it an animal maybe?" Serana straightened up; her curiosity piqued.
"It must've been. No need to fret over it, my liege." Durnehviir turned his head.
"Hmm." Serana bit her thumb. "I think I'll take a look around, just to be safe."
Who could be out there? She gazed into the frozen wasteland. We're the last ones left.
~Q~Q~
A/N: Please read and review.