#ch: serana volkihar

[whispersafterdusk]

In  Your Hands - ch 13

"The bow...you have Auriel's Bow!  I've heard it described in tales, but I could never have imagined its beauty."

Isran's usually sour look was replaced with one of awe as he looked over the bow Ralsten held out.

"We need your help with this, Isran," Ralsten said quietly.

"Indeed.  The day hasn't been won while Harkon still walks Tamriel.   But what of Serana?  Can she be trusted to lift a blade against her own kind?  Her own family?" ((Continued under cut))

Eyes narrowing Ralsten yanked the bow out of the man's reach -- Serana was standing right next to him and Isran had spoken of her as though she wasn't even there.  "I trust her," he growled, staring Isran down.

After a moment Isran nodded.  "I suppose that's as much as I can hope for.  Let me address the Dawnguard, then we'll be off.  The men deserve to know we've finally gained the upper hand."

Ralsten stayed in the doorway with Serana - neither could move further into the fort without risking injury off spells meant to detect and protect against vampires.  Isran walked about, gathering up those Dawnguard members that were in the fort and having them group together in the main entryway and then stood before them.

"Everyone! For too long we've allowed these vampires to poison the night and kill our people! Now, we finally have the means to strike back! We now have Auriel's Bow. The gods themselves have favored us and we must answer with action! The time has come to finally put an end to Harkon and his unholy prophecy! We will march on their lair and destroy those wretched abominations so they can no longer corrupt our world! This is our fight and this is our fate! This is the time of the Dawnguard!"

The Dawnguard erupted into cheers, many gleefully calling for the heads and blood of the vampires; Ralsten felt distinctly uncomfortable in the midst of their fervor -- he was, after all, one of those (even if unwillingly) that they were clamoring to kill, and Serana was part of the family they were about to wipe out.

Serana's expression was neutral, unreadable; when the group turned toward the door Ralsten shouldered them open and headed out into the night, Serana behind him and the small army that was the Dawnguard behind her.

The ride to castle Volkihar was hard and long; Serana and Ralsten didn't need to rest but the horses, men, and the armored trolls with them did.  Each night as they set camp they stayed separate from the others, sitting together alongside their own campfire.

Ralsten noticed Serana preferred to sit close enough that their shoulders were touching and he found he didn't mind that in the slightest; he very much wanted to talk to her, to try and take her mind off what they had to do but with the others within earshot he didn't want to make her feel awkward...and it saddened him to realize that he couldn't speak freely to her here.  He had to content himself with sitting close and hoping that if she felt the need to speak she would, and that she knew he would certainly answer her if she did, the Dawnguard be damned.

When they finally reached the castle it just was turning to dawn; the sky was gray and dreary and made the castle seem even more foreboding.

Counting Ralsten and Serana, and Isran, there were twenty gathered here; they marched together up the bridge leading to the castle and made it halfway before the doors were thrown open and a rush of vampires - ten in total - came out to meet them.

The air was split with the roar of the armored trolls as they charged ahead of the Dawnguard; Ralsten drew his weapons and ran with the others to clash with the vampires -- he felt the pull of their draining spells and cracked the nearest man - a Nord vampire he'd not seen when he'd brought Serana home - in the jaw with his mace then jabbed downward into his thigh as the man staggered.

Slowly but steadily the Dawnguard pushed and cut their way up to the front door -- a few gargoyles came to life but were quickly torn to pieces by the trolls and left alongside the butchered bodies of the vampires that had come out to meet them.

Once inside the castle Ralsten recognized Harkon's inner court -- all these men and women, vampires all of them, rushing up to meet their invasion.  These were stronger than the other lesser ones that had been sent to slow their approach and as they pushed inward a few of the Dawnguard were cut down or had their throats torn out with weapon and fang.

"Go!" Isran suddenly yelled over the din.  "Find him! Take him down!"

Ralsten peeled off from the group and hugged one of the walls of the hall; Serana darted over to join him and he followed her at a quick pace up some stairs and to a door that was blocked with a hanging, spiked gate -- she yanked on a chain that was hanging against the wall in such a way that it was well disguised against the brick and the grating slowly rose into the frame above the doorway.

Ralsten knew she knew exactly where they were heading and followed her without question until they finally stepped through a pair of wide double doors and into a dimly lit room with balconies and stairs to either side, and ahead of them on a raised platform was some sort of fountain, made to look like Molag Bal's face (or so Ralsten thought - it looked nightmarish regardless of who or what it was supposed to look like) that spilled a continuous flow of blood into a basin beneath its mouth.  The ceiling was vaulted with the only light being what little filtered in through narrow windows set high in the walls and there were gargoyles on platforms near the upper corners -- it brought to mind some sort of cathedral or temple, only dark and profane.

Floating before the fountain was Harkon himself, in his beastly...form, whatever it was.  His taloned feet hovered above the stone floor and his wings twitched over his shoulders as his gaze fell on them.

"Serana, my darling.  I see you still favor keeping that pet."

Serana's expression hardened and she began to purposely stride toward the man.  "You know why we're here."

Harkon snorted.  "Of course I do.  You disappoint me, Serana.  You've taken everything I provided for you and thrown it all away for this...pathetic being."

Ralsten saw her hands ball into fists.

"Provided for me?" she repeated, looking at her father in disbelief. "Are you insane? You've destroyed our family.  You've killed other vampires. All over some prophecy that we barely understand.  No more.   I'm done with you."  She looked back to Ralsten and he saw the bare determination in her eyes.  "You will not touch him.  Not again.  Not ever again."

The way she'd said it made his stomach oddly flutter, but then Harkon's laughter made Ralsten's skin crawl; there was no time to consider the flutter -- the elf slowly pulled the bow from his back and nocked an arrow but didn't draw it just yet.  

Holding the arrow was...strange -- it gave him a sense of unease, as though he innately knew just how severely the weapon he held could hurt him since he too was now undead (and he suspected that he would feel this way even if he didn't already know what the arrows could do, which made the unease even worse).  Ralsten pushed the feeling away and hefted the bow with gritted teeth, ready to draw and fire; Harkon's gaze move from Serana to the bow, then he locked eyes with Ralsten briefly before his attention flicked back to his daughter.

"So, I see this dragon has fangs.  Your voice drips with the venom of your mother's influence...how alike you've become."

"No."  Her voice was sharp, then her tone lowered.  "Because unlike her, I'm not afraid of you.  Not anymore."

The vampire lord was silent a moment before his attention moved back to Ralsten.  "And you..."

He moved as quickly as Ralsten remembered and seemed to appear in front of him in the blink of an eye; those clawed hands reached out to try and rip the bow from Ralsten's grip -- he was too close to shoot even if he'd had the string drawn so instead he jabbed at Harkon with the arrow.

The arrow's tip barely scratched the vampire's skin but an effect like flame racing across parchment spread from the thin line; Harkon snarled and drew back, leaving Ralsten standing with the bow still in hand and with an arrow that no longer glowed.  He dropped the arrow and drew another as Harkon turned to meet Serana's attack; gone was her spellcasting and she was instead swinging at him with the sword she'd taken from Ralsten's little armory -- he couldn't think of a time when he'd seen her use it before and until now Ralsten hadn't even known what enchantment the dwarven blade carried -- Harkon had reached to grab the blade in one large hand, and while the blade's edge didn't seem to penetrate his skin at all there was a burst of flame upon contact and again Harkon was forced to recoil back and away from the burning magic.

Silently thanking the Divines that the enchantment was exactly what they needed at this moment Ralsten drew the bow and fired -- his arrow skimmed across Harkon's shoulder, leaving another tiny bloodied line but once more sending a rippling flame across the vampire's skin, and when it struck the far wall behind him there was a small blast of released magic against the brick.

Harkon turned a hateful face toward Ralsten.  "You've turned her against me!  I will darken the skies and I'll drain the life from you!"

The air was suddenly full of flapping wings as Harkon turned into a swarm of bats and engulfed the elf; Ralsten swung the arrow in hand at the swarm until it struck one of them and created a small explosion that also singed himself but it didn't stop Harkon -- the bats kept diving in and clawing and biting at him, trying to reach the lower half of his face or worm through the openings in his helm to blind him.

Keeping firm hold on the bow in one hand Ralsten dropped the other to his belt and pulled his mace free, swinging wildly and feeling the continuous thuds of connecting swings until finally the bat swarm pulled away and it was Harkon, fully formed, diving for him again.  Ralsten dropped the mace to grab a handful of the arrows this time and dove forward to meet Harkon's dive, gouging several of them into the vampire's gut and across down toward the hip; Harkon's screech of pain set his ears ringing but it drove the vampire away -- he turned into the swarm of bats again and rapidly retreated to the blood fountain.

"Fools..." he growled.  He reformed and raised his hands over his head and with a crackling noise two of the gargoyles along the walls came to life.

Ralsten whipped around and shot one of the arrows in hand at the nearest gargoyle - the enchantment on the arrow was spent and it bounced off the gargoyle's shoulder without leaving so much as a scratch.   Before the creature could close the distance between them Ralsten swung the bow to his back and ducked to pick up his mace where it'd landed on the ground at his feet (which meant he was forced to drop the other arrows - there was no time to slip them back into the quiver and their enchantments were expended besides); when he straightened he had drawn his sword too and brought both around in dual underhanded swings that caught one arm of the gargoyle and knocked it to the side while the other's momentum was narrowly halted before it could rip into the elf's shoulderguard.

Its head darted forward to snap at him; he jerked his head back and shifted his left foot to hold his weight, then pushed forward off his toes to again catch an arm as it slashed down toward him -- he caught the wrist between the haft and blade of his weapons, held up in a crossed position, and twisted them as he twisted at the trunk to sling the gargoyle off balance to the side and into a pillar that supported the balcony nearby.  As the gargoyle bounced off the stone Ralsten brought the mace back around in a backhanded swing to smash into its ribs (did it have ribs or was it a stone construct? He really didn't know) and knocked it to the floor, then planted a foot into its chest to somewhat pin it in place and kept swinging at it as it flailed and clawed at his legs.

When he finally managed to smash its head in the metal plates, studs, and the leather of his boots were an utter mess of deep gouges and grooves, and he didn't want to think about what he'd look like if he hadn't been armored.

Abruptly he was lifted from his feet and thrown across the room to crack into the wall under a balcony -- Harkon was after him again, with Serana close on his heels and still attempting to get a solid strike in with her fire-enchanted sword.

"FUS!" Ralsten Shouted - not the full force of the shout, as Serana was too close and he didn't dare risk hurting her as well.

The shortened shout hit Harkon in the chest and pushed him back down the stairs; Ralsten clambered to one knee and got the bow up and ready, then loosed another arrow that actually embedded itself into Harkon's hip and sent the full effect of the arrow's enchantment rippling across his skin and charring it black, and the vampire let out another enraged but pained growl and spun to knock Serana flying with an open handed slap but Ralsten could see a slash across his shoulderblade that was blackened around the edges of the cut.

The elf placed another arrow near that gouge and finally, Harkon's clawed feet dropped to the ground as he stumbled and writhed as he burned.  As he turned again to Ralsten the elf fired again, and again, awkwardly climbing to his feet and advancing step by step as each arrow found its mark and forced Harkon back.

Serana stood; Ralsten held back his next shot as she came forward, bringing the sword over her head and down to cut deeply into Harkon's shoulder, the flames spreading up half the man's face even as black blood sprayed into the air.

With a weak cry Harkon changed and a swarm of bats retreated toward the blood fountain.  Ralsten rushed down the stairs with another arrow ready, and as the swarm paused in front of the fountain he fired into its middle -- the arrow passed through the bats but struck the fountain and the nova of released magic engulfed nearly the entire swarm.

Harkon shrieked - a terrible noise that Ralsten swore he could feel in his teeth - and the bats began to crumble to dust even as they struggled to reform him; for a very brief instant the image of Harkon appeared, his face twisted in pain and hatred, his hands claw-like and reaching toward them.

"No...Serana...your own father..."

His voice echoed as he turned to ash and rained down into and around the fountain.

Then, there was nothing but the sounds of their own panting.

Ralsten stood for several moments with an arrow ready and waiting, somehow expecting that this wasn't the end - that somehow, that pile of ash would reform into something worse and come after them with a vengeance.

But...nothing did.  The room was silent and still, and not even the blood fountain made noise.

The sword fell from Serana's slack fingers and she slowly walked up to the ash pile, kneeling down beside it -- a moment later and Ralsten carefully edged up behind her, then they both jumped and spun around as the double doors behind them were thrown open.

Isran and three Dwanguard (two men and a young woman, none of which Ralsten knew) charged in, then skidded to a halt to look about in tense confusion; after peering into every nook and cranny of the room Isran lowered his weapon and stomped up to stand before Serana and Ralsten, staring down at the ash at their feet.

"It's over.  He's dead...and the prophecy dies with him."  He looked grimly satisfied for a breath, then surprisingly his expression softened into something resembling pity as he looked to Serana.  "I... I suppose this is difficult for you."

Serana glanced to the ashes, then stood to face Isran.  "I think my father really died a long time ago.  This was just...the end of something else.  I did what needed to be done, nothing more."

Isran nodded slowly at that.  "I think perhaps...I think you did more than that.  You have my thanks."

Ralsten glanced to Serana and found she looked just as surprised as he did - Isran had spent all this time openly despising her...only to thank her now.

The man spun on a heel and gestured for the three with him to head back out of the cathedral.  "We'll do a final sweep of the castle -- make sure no one is hiding.  Find us outside when you're through here."

They swept out of the door without a backward glance; when they were gone Ralsten sighed, shoulders slumping in relief, then turned to face Serana.

"Are you all right?"

She had a few gashes visible across her leather chest piece, and an openly bleeding gouge on her arm; he quickly pulled her away from her father's ashes and over toward the stairs, sitting her down and tying a cloth around the wound.

"It's hard to believe, but we did it.  We actually did it," she said quietly.

He studied her face -- she didn't seem grieved or sad, just...somewhere between relieved and tired; it didn't take long to determine that the gashes across her chest and stomach hadn't penetrated to skin and were just damage to the armor and then he dropped heavily to the stone beside her feeling the sting of sweat in dozens of tiny scratches across his chin and neck from the bats.

"He can't hurt you again.  Or anyone else, for that matter," he said into the silence.  

She didn't respond to that; they sat in silence until yet another Dawnguard member (another woman that Ralsten hadn't met before) came to fetch them.  Serana stood and left the room without looking back and Ralsten followed her, all the way out to the main hall.  There were some that were stacking the bodies of slain Volkihar vampires in a corner and a handful of others were tending to dazed, confused men and women that were dressed in rags and covered in obvious bite marks and old scars.

Serana took all of this in, then headed to the front doors and stepped out into the midday sun.  Ralsten followed her, wincing and shielding his eyes against the brightness and feeling the dull burn of the sun on his skin.  She led them halfway down the bridge (there were bloody smears to mark where the vampires had been slain and dragged off, the bodies nowhere to be seen) then took a deep breath and turned to him.

"Well, now that's done."

Ralsten nodded.  "It is."  He eyed her silently for a moment; in his mind he could suddenly see everything they'd seen and done together, every little thing he'd felt...and a fear settled in his gut that this was truly it.  "What will you do now?" he finally asked, hesitating.

Serana seemed to consider that for a moment.  "I'm not sure.  I could see if I could stay with the Dawnguard...for as long as they'd let me. They're respectable fighters, even if their leader is a bit shortsighted.  I think they could see the benefits now of having a vampire on their side."

Ralsten chuckled awkwardly.  "I somehow doubt that would last long.  Surely there's a...better choice."

She nodded, smiling faintly.  "You're probably right."  Shielding her eyes she turned to look  back to the castle.  

"You could come with me," he blurted out, then bit his lower lip.

"What?" she looked to him in surprise, blinking at him wordlessly for a moment.  "I-" her expression cycled through a few emotions that were too quick to catch and then she looked away from him.  "Maybe.  I feel..." She looked back up to the castle.  "I want to.  I truly want to.  But I feel I should make my peace with this place first.  There's a lot of bad memories here, but good ones too."  After a few breaths she glanced to him again.  "Though the memories I've made with you have been the best of my life."

Ralsten felt that odd stomach flutter again.  "I'd be more than happy to make more with you.  More adventures, more... Whenever you're through here. However long it takes you.  My home is open to you, my company is yours any time you want it."  He took a few steps toward her, resting a hand on her shoulder and meeting her gaze.  "Call, and I promise I'll come."

He sent a nervous glance toward the doors and saw no one watching, then leaned forward to place an awkward kiss on her temple.

The gesture clearly surprised her, and she swallowed hard before looking away shyly and clearing her throat.  "I'll... I promise I'll find you, when I'm done here."  Once she'd had a moment to compose herself she looked back to him with a smile.  "What will you do in the meantime?  Where will I find you?"

Ralsten found himself both disappointed and thankful at the subject change.  "Ah...well.  I think I shall remain with Isran -- the Dawnguard's researchers are still looking through their tomes and records to find a cure.  If you don't find me at the fort, then I will be at home.  I won't hide from you," he added, tone teasing.

"All right.  Until then..."  She rested a gentle hand on his arm, then stepped forward to pull him into a hug.

He hugged her tightly.  "Be safe, Serana.  You know how to find me."

#In Your Hands #iyh #In Your Hands ch 13 #serana #dragonborn #bosmer #dawnguard #vampires #Ralsten #Harkon #Isran #AU #Skyrim

[whispersafterdusk]

In Your Hands - ch 10

"Mother?  Mother!"

Ahead of them, separated by some sort of rippling, impenetrable field, they could see the back of a slender woman bent over an alchemy table.  At Serana's call the woman stood and turned toward them; her skin was pasty, her dress and the glow of her eyes identical to Serana's.  Her dark hair was pulled up in twin buns on the back of her head and at first she'd stared at them in suspicion, then recognition crossed her face.

"Maker..." the woman had gasped.  "It can't be... Serana?" ((Continued below cut))

Serana pressed her hands to the field; the woman Serana called mother came up to stand close to the barrier but did not touch it.

"Is it really you?" Serana asked.  "I can't believe it!  How do we get inside?  We have to talk."

Valerica's expression soured suddenly, all traces of surprise (and maybe even joy) vanishing.  "Serana?  What are you doing here?  Where's your father?"

"He doesn't know we're here. I don't have time to explain-"

Valerica's nostrils flared as she inhaled sharply.  "I must have failed.  Harkon's found a way to decipher the prophecy, has he?"

"No, no," Serana said, banging the heel of a palm against the barrier.  "You've got it all wrong.  We're here to complete the prophecy our way, not his."

Valerica opened her mouth as though she intended to argue further, then suddenly seemed to notice Ralsten standing at her daughter's back. "Wait a moment...  You've brought a stranger here?  Have you lost your mind?"

"No, you don't-"

"You," the elder vampire snapped, staring hard at Ralsten.  "Come forward.  I would speak with you."

Looking defeated, frustrated, and a little hurt Serana stepped back. Ralsten took her place closer to the barrier and Valerica's piercing gaze fell on him, looking him up and down.

"So.  How has it come to pass that a-" she paused, meeting his gaze with a harsh look.  "-a vampire of mixed blood is in the company of my daughter?"

Ralsten glanced to Serana but she was staring at the ground - the hurt in her expression was completely replaced with frustration now and she did not look up at him.

"-I've been keeping her safe.  And..." he hesitated a moment - Valerica didn't seem to like him much, obviously.  "-and she's the one who sired me.  My mixed blood is still of your family's.  I rescued her from the crypt she was trapped in and I've been helping her ever since... We've come hoping you can tell us of the Elder Scroll -- er, I mean-" he stumbled over his words a bit.  "-the one that she wasn't sealed away with - another one.  One of the three needed to fully learn what the prophecy is."

Valerica pressed her lips together, dislike still apparent on her face.  "I see my daughter is still as naive as ever.  Did it not occur to you that Serana is in far more danger now than when she was following my original plan and "trapped" inside that crypt?"

"I will not let anything harm her," Ralsten said quietly, frowning.  "Especially not Harkon."

She seemed to think on that a moment, then began to pace.  "When I fled castle Volkihar, I fled with Serana and two Elder Scrolls.  The Scroll you found with Serana speaks of Auriel and his arcane weapon, Auriel's Bow."

Ralsten nodded in agreement, his eyes tracking her as she walked back and forth.

"The second scroll declares that 'The Blood of Coldharbor's Daughter will blind the eye of the Dragon.'"

When Ralsten glanced to Serana this time she was looking to him too; they had hidden the Scroll they'd found in the dwemer ruins in Solitude in Ralsten's home, then immediately left to find Valerica -- neither of them knew what that scroll actually said, nor did they know what the Scroll Valerica may or may not have would say either...but, it seemed, that Valerica knew.

"What does that mean?  How does Serana fit in?"

"Like myself, Serana was a human once. We were devout followers of Lord Molag Bal. Tradition dictates the females be offered to Molag Bal on his summoning day. Few survive the ordeal. Those that do emerge as a pure-blooded vampire. We call such confluences the "Daughters of Coldharbour.""

Ralsten's eyes widened.  "This prophecy, this...Tyranny of the Sun requires Serana's blood?"

Valerica smiled bitterly at him.  "Now you're beginning to see why I wanted to protect Serana, and why I've kept the other Scroll as far from her as possible."

"Do you...are you saying that Harkon means to kill her?"

Valerica nodded.  "If Harkon obtained Auriel's Bow and Serana's blood was used to taint the weapon, the Tyranny of the Sun would be complete.  In his eyes, she'd be dying for the good of all vampires."

"That's not happening," Ralsten said quickly, looking back to Serana.  

"And how exactly did you plan on completing the prophecy without the death of my daughter?"

"We won't. I'll kill him."  The words left his mouth before he realized what he was saying; Harkon had quite easily overpowered him and the terror of that moment was something he knew he wouldn't soon forget.  He could swear death to the man all he wanted, but...

"If you believe that then you're a bigger fool than I originally suspected," Valerica snorted.  "Don't you think I weighed that option before I enacted my plans?"

Knowing just how strong Harkon was, he didn't exactly disagree.  "Her death isn't...it isn't destined, is it?" he asked quietly then.

"The Elder Scrolls only tell of events that might be, not events that WILL be."

"Then there's still a chance."  Ralsten swallowed hard and turned to Serana. "And...your opinion in this?"

Valerica answered before Serana could.  "You care nothing for Serana or our plight.  You see the Tyranny of the Sun as your chance at deification, and like Harkon you won't hesitate to destroy anything that stands in your path."

Ralsten's eyes narrowed; he stayed facing Serana, and then after a few minutes turned to stand at her side, staring Valerica down.  "Serana believes me.  Trusts me.  Why won't you?"

That seemed to surprise Valerica.  "Serana?"

Serana lifted her head to give her mother a steely glare.

"This stranger may call himself a vampire but he knows nothing of our struggle.  Why should I entrust you to him?"

Serana stepped forward to jab a finger toward the woman, the anger evident in her voice and growing with each word.  "This "stranger" has done more for me in the brief time I've known him than you've done in centuries!"

"How dare you!" Valerica snapped.  "I gave up everything I cared about to protect you from that fanatic you call a father!"

Serana took a steadying breath.  "-yes, he's a fanatic.   He's...changed.  But he's still my father.  Why can't you understand how that - how all of this - makes me feel?"

Valerica scoffed and rolled her eyes.  "Oh Serana.  If you'd only open your eyes.  The moment your father discovers your role in the prophecy, that he needs your blood, you'd be in terrible danger."

"So to protect me you decided to shut me away from everything I cared about? You never asked me if hiding me in that tomb was the best course of action, you just expected me to follow you blindly. Both of you were obsessed with your own paths. Your motivations might have been different, but in the end, I'm still just a pawn to you, too."  The words came out of Serana in a rush and again she paused to gather herself before continuing.  "... I want us to be a family again. But I don't know if we can ever have that. Maybe we don't deserve that kind of happiness. Maybe it isn't for us. But we have to stop him. Before he goes too far. And to do that, we need the Elder Scroll."

Valerica seemed startled by the sudden outburst; she stopped where she stood and studied the two on the outside of the barrier, attention moving between them but not seeming to truly...see them, as she ruminated.  "...I'm sorry, Serana.  I didn't... I didn't know.  I didn't see."  She let out a slow exhale and closed her eyes.  "I've allowed my hatred of your father to estrange us...for too long.  Forgive me.   If...if you want the Elder Scroll, it's yours."

Serana appeared surprised at that, then troubled and didn't reply; Ralsten looked between the two women when Valerica stirred and caught his eye.

"Your intentions are still somewhat unclear to me," the woman said quietly.  "But, for Serana's sake, I'll assist you in any way I can."

Ralsten approached the barrier again, eying it warily.  "Is the Scroll here?  Do you have it with you?"

"Yes.  I've kept it safely secured here ever since I was imprisoned. Fortunately, you're in a position to breach this barrier that surrounds these ruins."

Ralsten reached out to touch the field; it was unyielding, strangely cold to the touch, and it reached up into the sky as far as he could see -- and as she'd said the barrier surrounded the ruins he very much doubted they'd find anywhere she could slip out.  "What do we need to do?"

Valerica pointed in the direction - approximately - that they'd come from.  "You need to locate the tallest of the rocky spires that surround these ruins.  The barrier's energy is being drawn from unfortunate souls that have been exiled here -- destroy the Keepers that are tending them, and it should bring the barrier down."

Ralsten nodded.  "Very well.  We'll return as soon as we can."  His gaze moved from the barrier to her.  "How did you end up imprisoned here, anyway?"

"When I entered the Soul Cairn I had intended to strike a bargain with the Ideal Masters - the custodians of this place.  I requested refuge in the Cairn and in exchange I would provide them with the souls they craved.  If I'd foreseen the value they'd placed on my own soul, I would have never come here.

"So they tricked you," Ralsten said with a frown.

Valerica nodded, shoulders slumping.  "They unleashed their Keepers and sent them to destroy me.  Fortunately I was able to hold them at bay and retreat to these ruins, but since the Keepers weren't able to claim my soul they had their minions construct a barrier that I'd never be able to breach."  She looked up at him.  "I was a fool."

"How long have you been here?" Ralsten tried to keep the amazement out of his voice - it just seemed...well, rude, like he was slighting her skills or something.

She huffed.  "Time has very little meaning to me.  Consequently, it has little meaning to the Ideal Masters as well.  I suppose you could call this the ultimate waiting game, each watching the other to see which will give in."

"Couldn't they just...let you starve?" he asked hesitantly.

"They could.  But they haven't.  Things keep finding their way into my ruins, somehow.  I question why they haven't come for me themselves because of it."

He glanced to Serana; she was waiting patiently.  Ralsten nodded to her, then nodded to Valerica and began to head down the stairs with Serana following behind.

"Be careful, and keep my daughter safe," Valerica yelled after them.

--------------------------------------------

"Six - no, seven."

Ralsten stayed kneeling behind a stone pillar that had at one point been broken in half; Serana was standing more out in the open, counting the number of black-boned skeletons she could see milling about on the lower level of one of the Keeper's towers.

"Great..." he muttered.  "No armor, no weapon..."  And only the one spell Serana had taught him.

Well...not just that, of course.  There WERE a few things he could fall back on, but he really preferred not to.

Serana studied the layout of the tower and where the creatures were stalking.  "-stay here... When I get a few of them, see if you can't grab their weapon at the least."  She sighed.  "I'm not sure what we can do for you for armor...there's a few up there that have helmets on, and one has a breastplate, but we're not going to be able to get anything like what you were wearing before."

"Anything would be better than what I have at the moment, even if it's falling apart in my hands."

Nodding and with her hands aglow with magic Serana darted forward toward the skeletons.  In her initial charge she downed three of them, then carried that momentum forward and disappeared around a corner and out of Ralsten's sight.

He counted to ten then followed in a sort of slinking, crouching, hopping motion.  The black skeletons were brittle but their weapons and spells packed quite the punch; the first skeleton Serana had felled had turned into a pile of ash -- there wasn't anything useful to be found with this one.  The second one he managed to fish a dagger out of the heap of bones, along with three arrows -- the arrows were fairly useless to him without a bow (which was nearby, but the bowstring had been severed) but he carried them anyway just in case.

The bottom floor of the tower was cramped and enclosed but he could see a stairwell leading up not too far away; the sounds of Serana's casting echoed down the stairs and he carefully crept up them, keeping an eye out for any unexpected attention.

He encountered nothing except a trail of piles of ash -- Ralsten picked up another dagger, an intact bow, and another five arrows.  As he had no means of strapping any of this to his body the elf simply slipped the bow over his shoulder, sticking his head through the space between string and bow to let it hang off him and kept hold of the daggers, one in each hand.

When he reached the top of the stairs he found Serana surrounded by ash piles, and ahead of them was an open space at the base of a very thin but tall spire; at the top of the spire was what looked like an enormous soul gem and there were smoky white tendrils of power reaching from it down to a cluster of paralyzed, helpless ghosts who stood around a throne at the spire's base.  Spitting on that throne was a massive, armored...something.

Whatever it was was clad in silvery, bone-like armor with ornate carvings and spikes at the shoulders and knees, and was lined with a wrinkled, gray leather; a pair of dully glowing purple eyes floated in a black, wispy void of a head, and as the figure stood up it lifted a mace and shield from the ground from either side of the throne.

Serana's first spells deflected uselessly off the thing's shield, and she dodged to the side as it charged at her with an unnatural speed.   The Keeper hadn't seemed to notice Ralsten at all -- the elf quickly dropped the daggers and pulled the bow around, readying a shot that he loosed when the creature had turned just enough that it couldn't possibly get the shield up in time to block it.  The arrow embedded itself in the figure's forearm in that spot Ralsten thought was just leather; the glowing eyes turned toward him, and it raised the shield and charged.

Ralsten let the bow droop and inhaled deeply, standing his ground.

"ZUN HAAL VIIK!" he bellowed.  A roiling ball of blue, ethereal energy blasted out from in front of the elf; it struck the charging wraith creature and the mace and shield went flying in opposite directions.

The creature stumbled then the mass of shadows that was its head turned to the side to seek its fallen weapons; Serana took advantage of the Keeper's distraction and sent an ice bolt straight through its "head."  It didn't seem to do much visually but the thing hissed angrily and seemed put off-balance by the precise strike.

Ralsten lifted the bow again and fired two more of the meager supply of arrows he had, then he went diving for the mace the Keeper had dropped.  When he grabbed it he found it was much more heavy than he'd expected and he couldn't place what material it was made from; The Keeper had wielded it with one hand but Ralsten found it was more comfortable and manageable for him to hold it in both, and now with the Keeper turned toward Serana Ralsten sprinted up behind it and brought the mace slamming down into one of the shoulder guards.

The Keeper bent a knee at the force of the blow and nearly fell, and Ralsten swung again in a diagonal strike that ripped the shoulder guard off entirely this time.  As the Keeper spun to face Ralsten Serana again sent a flurry of ice into its back.

Flanked on both sides as it was, and with both of them carefully staying out of the Keeper's reach, soon the shadowy head dissipated -- as it vanished the armor collapsed to the ground and above them the giant soul gem on the faded, as did the spirits it had been draining.

Panting, Ralsten moved over to nudge the pile of armor that had been the Keeper.

"What was that?"

"One of the Keepers, I'm guessing."

He picked up the chest piece and grunted at its weight - maybe he wouldn't be able to make use of this after all as it easily weighed three times as much as he was used to.

"Not that. That...that spell, that knocked his weapons out of his hands."

"Oh, that."  Ralsten looked up from the armor pile.  "It's a - a shout.  A Thu'um, in the dragon's tongue.  Anyone can learn them with enough study and practice...or, ah.  If they're the Dragonborn."

She studied him silently for a moment, then came over to kneel next to him.  "You've mentioned that before but I wasn't really sure what it meant.  And I've never seen you do anything like that before."

With a grunt he picked up the gauntlets and slid them on; they were slightly too big but he was able to cinch the straps down tightly enough to make up for it.  "I try not to shout all that often."

"Why?"

After a pause he chuckled, glancing at her.  "Well.  Usually they knock things around, send things flying... I learned the hard way that I really shouldn't use them unless I'm in a big enough open area - imagine a shower of loose...things, in a crypt, all bouncing around and some coming directly back at your face.  And I don't really know all that many yet so for now I consider them situational."

He lifted the breastplate again and frowned; the Keeper had been much taller than he was and the breastplate was too long to use, as were the leg plates - his thought of simply suffering the extra weight was a moot one if they were just too big to even wear.  The boots at least were serviceable if he kept his leather ones on underneath and even though he couldn't wear the waistguard due to its size he managed to slide the leather belt from the armor and cut it down to his size using one of the daggers.

Serana silently watched him partly armor himself; when he had what he could use on he looked to her with a sigh.  "It's a start."

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As they'd destroyed the remaining two Keepers and the skeletal minions in the region Ralsten had managed to find a moldering breastplate that was close enough in size to work; it smelled like rot and death but it was leaps and bounds more protective than the simple cloth shirt he had on, and when they'd returned to the ruins and were set upon by Durnehviir he was especially grateful that he'd managed to find armor at all.

Even still, during the fight the armor had all but crumbled off him; that Durnehviir had merely vanished rather than his soul being drawn to Ralsten as all the others had had the elf extremely concerned, as he knew he wouldn't be able to take on the dragon again if it wasn't truly slain.

Valerica had been visibly impressed, and helped Serana patch Ralsten up once the battle had finished.  Every inch of him ached and he was bleeding from multiple places where the dragon had snapped at him and caught him with his teeth.

"I never thought I'd witness the death of that dragon.  Volumes written on Durnehviir allege that he can't be slain by normal means.  It appears they were mistaken.  Unless..."

Ralsten winced as Serana tied a bandage a little too tight.  "Unless what?"

"The soul of a dragon is as resilient as its owner's scaly hide.   It's possible that your killing blow has merely displaced Durnehviir's physical form while he reconstitutes himself."

The elf groaned -- he knew that something had been wrong when he didn't absorb the dragon's soul as he normally did.  "And how long will that take?"

Valerica shrugged.  "Minutes?  Hours?  Years?  I can't even begin to guess.  I suggest we don't wait around to find out.  Let's get you the Elder Scroll and you can be on your way."

"Aren't you coming with us?" Serana asked.

"I have no choice but to stay here.  I too am a Daughter of Coldharbor.  If I return to Tamriel that increases Harkon's likelihood of bringing the Tyranny of the Sun to fruition.  As much as it pains me to send you both back alone, I can't take the risk."

"But," Serana started, "we may never be able to return."

Valerica ignored her and stood to retrieve the Scroll, bringing it back to lay it across Serana's knees.  "Remember that Harkon isn't to be trusted. No matter what he promises, he'll deceive you in order to get what he wants."  She fixed Ralsten with a look. "And promise me you'll keep my daughter safe. She's the only thing of value I have left."

"I swear to you I will," Ralsten replied quietly.

"Then take the scroll and be on your way."

Ralsten pushed himself to his feet with a pained grunt and began to slowly hobble back across the Boneyard to the door that would lead them from the ruins; he'd gone several feet before he heard Serana following, and he paused at the door to let her catch up.

When they'd gone out of the ruins however Ralsten threw a hand out to stop Serana and shove her behind him; perched on a pillar just outside of the ruin was that damned dragon.

"Stay your weapons," Durnehviir rumbled.  It made no attempt to move toward them.  "I would speak with you, Qahnaarin."

"Didn't I just kill you?"

Durnehviir laughed, but it was a bitter sounding noise.  "Cursed, not dead.  Doomed to exist in this form for eternity. Trapped between laas and dinok, between life and death."

Durnehviir did look nothing at all like the other dragons Ralsten had fought and slain; he looked...like he was actively rotting, with a grayish green coloring and his scales dripping off his body each time he moved.

"What do you want?" Ralsten asked, eying the dragon warily and praying the dragon would indeed not attack.

"My claws have rendered the flesh of innumerable foes, but I have never once been felled on the field of battle.  I therefor honor-name you "Qahnaarin," or Vanquisher in your tongue.  My desire to speak with you was born from the result of our battle.  Qahnaarin.  I merely wish to respectfully ask a favor of you."

The elf stared at him, puzzled.  "A favor?  What kind of favor could I possibly do for a dragon?"

Durnehviir lifted his head, staring up at the swirling black vortex in the center of the violet sky.  "For countless years I've roamed the Soul Cairn, in unintended service for the Ideal Masters.  Before this I roamed the skies above Tamriel.  I desire to return there."

"...Skyrim has enough dragons flying around causing harm.  I'm not going to take you back and set you free to do the same."

"My time here has taken its toll on me," Durnehviir went on.  "I share a bond with this dreaded place.  If I ventured far from the Soul Cairn my strength would begin to wane until I was no more."

Serna edged up beside Ralsten, looking the dragon up and down.  "Then how do you expect Ralsten to take you to Tamriel?  If you can't leave."

Durnehviir shifted, flexing his rotting wings.  "I will place my name with you and grant you the right to call my name from Tamriel.  Do for me this simple honor and I will fight at your side as your Grah-Zeymahzin.  Your ally.  And I will teach you my Thu'um."

"I still don't understand, though," Ralsten said after a minute.  "If you're going to die if you leave here, what good does it do to call you back to Tamriel?  How'd you even end up here?"

"You do not need to understand such a trivial favor as what I ask.   Merely speak my name, Qahnaarin, and I shall come." Durnehviir lowered his head and turned it to focus on them with one clouded, milky eye.   "There was a time when I called Tamriel my home.  But those days have long since passed. Dovah roamed the skies, vying for their small slices of territory that resulted in immense, and ultimately fatal, battles.  I was a part of such, but unlike some of my brethren I sought solutions outside the norm in order to maintain my superiority.  I began to explore what the dovah call "Alok-Dilon," the ancient forbidden art that you call necromancy."

"So you came here then, for knowledge," Serana interjected, frowning.

"The Ideal Masters assured me that my powers would be unmatched, that I could raise legions of undead.  In return, I was to serve them as a Keeper until the death of the one who calls herself Valerica."

Ralsten winced as Serana's fingernails dug into his arm at the mention of her mother, but he turned a surprised look to her.  "--that's why your mother didn't starve," he said, amazement in his tone.  "They never told him she was immortal, and they didn't let her die."

Durnehviir nodded to them.  "I discovered too late that the Ideal Masters favor deception over honor, and had no intention of releasing me from my binding.  They had control of my mind but fortunately they couldn't possess my soul."

"That still doesn't explain why you'd want to be called somewhere you know you'll die.  Are you...free, now that the Keepers are dead?"

"Free? No. I have been here too long.  The Soul Cairn has become a part of what I am. I could never fully call Tamriel my home again, or I will perish.  But, I only hope you will allow me the precious moments of time there through your call."

"...you tried to kill me."

"The hostility was necessary.  I was bound to an oath."

Serana tugged at his arm.  "We may be running out of time."

Durnehviir dipped his head to them and flared his wings.  "Perhaps we will continue this when time releases you from its relentless grasp.   Farewell."  The dragon leaped into the air at the same time he brought his wings sweeping down; Ralsten and Serana were blasted with wind and kicked up dirt as the dragon took the sky and flew toward the far horizon, in the opposite direction they needed to travel to return through the portal back to Valerica's study.

Ralsten watched the dragon go, feeling in his heart and mind that Durnehviir's name now held power to him when before it'd been just a name.

Shaking his head he moved to follow Serana back to the portal.

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In the dead of night they moved through Solitude's streets.

When they reached Ralsten's home he'd gone to the street-level door and knocked quietly.  He kept quietly knocking until there was a rattle on the door's far side, and it was opened by the Nord called Lydia.

"It's me, I've lost my keys," Ralsten said quietly.

Lydia stepped back and out of the way and Ralsten and Serana stepped inside and softly closed the door.

They had scavenged a cloak with a hood from Valerica's study and Ralsten had it tugged down over his face, as far as the fabric would reach; with the door closed behind him he hesitantly lifted his head, and removed the hood.

Lydia's eyes widened at the sight of him and she seemed ready to dart into her room to retrieve a weapon; Ralsten held up his hands in a pleading gesture.

"Wait, Lydia - I know.  I know what I look like.  My adventures have taken a turn for the extremely dangerous, and I was captured and turned by the vampires I was hunting."

"You shouldn't have come back," the Nord growled.

"I needed to.  Listen closely...I need your help now more than ever. At the foot of my bed is a locked chest -- I need an item out of that chest.  The keys are hidden within the safe next to the bed - I know you know where and how to find them - and you'll know what item I need the moment you lay eyes on it.  I need you to do this so Lucia doesn't see me like this."

Serana had looked at him in confusion tinged with guilt when he'd mentioned being turned.  He pretended not to notice.

"Then," Ralsten went on.  "I need you to take Lucia and go visit your family in Whiterun.  Take as much out of that chest as you think you'll need."

Lydia's expression didn't change from the suspicious, almost hostile look she was giving them both.  "I do not HAVE family in Whiterun...my Thane."

"I said, take Lucia and go visit your family in Whiterun," Ralsten repeated through gritted teeth, enunciating each word sharply.

Understanding crossed the woman's face then, and she gave them both a small nod and turned to quietly climb the stairs.  When she was out of earshot Serana placed a gentle hand on Ralsten's arm.

"Do you really think they'd try to attack here, in the middle of a city?"

"I don't know what to think anymore," he answered quietly.   "They're...well, your family, technically.  You'd know better than I would."

Serana nodded silently at that, attention flicking to the ceiling.   "-I'm not sure they would.  Or if they did I don't think they'd accomplish much."

"I'd rather not risk it all the same."

Moving as quietly as possible Ralsten walked to the far room and to where he'd left his lighter set of armor hanging on a mannequin; Lydia returned some time later, carrying the Elder Scroll and looking more confused and suspicious than before, and didn't seem pleased to find Ralsten fully armored and armed and waiting on her.

He took the Scroll from her without comment and Serana strapped it to his back, mirroring how she carried the one she possessed.

Inhaling and exhaling slowly and taking a final look around the lower level of his home, Ralsten nodded to Lydia.  "Take Lucia in the morning and go.  Don't return until I personally come get you."

"...and if you never do?"

Ralsten shook his head.  "I'd rather not consider that, but if you haven't heard from me by the fall harvest...assume the worst.  And see that Lucia's taken care of -- all that's mine will fall to her if I'm killed but she'll still need someone strong and good of heart to protect and guide her as she grows up."

They made it out of Solitude as carefully as they'd made it inside, encountering no one who thought to question them.  The ride back to Fort Dawnguard was long and hard and the closer they drew to the fort the more nervous and uncertain Ralsten became.

Before they'd gone to retrieve the Scroll hidden in his home he had hired a courier and sent him ahead to Isran; instead of going all the way up to the fort they stopped at the very base of the path, at the shoreline near the waterfalls where the Dawnguard appeared to have set up a small camp meant for fishing -- there was a rough lean to, nets and lines, a small boat, and barrels of salted salmon.

The fishing camp hadn't been here before but Ralsten remembered this spot from when he'd first joined the Dawnguard, and the courier he'd hired bore a note to Isran asking the man to meet them here.

The sun was climbing into the sky as they arrived and Serana and Ralsten both had pressed themselves into the meager shadow that the mountain pass's cliff provided.

"What happens if they won't listen to us or let us speak to Dexion?"

Ralsten was silent a long moment, watching the water roar off the falls and crash into the pool beneath it.  "...I don't know.  At most, the only thing I..."  He went silent and turned his head just enough to look at her from the corner of his eye.  "How...how are you feeling?   After all of this?"

It was her turn to be silent for a time with only the sound of the falls echoing around them.  "Relieved...I think," she replied finally.   "All those things had been building for awhile.  You have no idea how long I wanted to say all that to her."

"Why did you agree with her, about the crypt?"

She rubbed a hand over her face -- being this close to the waterfall and the pool meant the breeze was a fine mist that was steadily forming beads of water on their armor and persons.  "I loved my father, but when he found that prophecy...that became his life.  Everything else, even me and my mother...we were just clutter.  I was close with my mother - for a time - and she just kept feeding me her opinions of him, and eventually I started believing them."  Her gaze moved to the falls.  "My father and I were never very close, even before my mother started in with her opinions...not a lot of father-daughter bonding if you know what I mean.  But once we threw our lot in with Molag Bal...  People just don't think about their families anymore in general.  My father liked to say "power takes precedence."  And honestly, it took me up until now to figure out my mother was really just as bad as he was.  He was obsessed with power, and she was obsessed with seeing him fail.  It was so...toxic.  Maybe I could have seen this coming.  We could all be better off now."

"No," Ralsten said quietly.  "Don't blame yourself for their actions.  You were trapped in the middle."

"I know that in my head.  But I just can't help feeling bad about...the way things are."  Her gaze flicked to his mouth, then to his eyes.

"You still shouldn't blame yourself," he insisted.  "None of that truly had anything to do with you.  They were both selfish, is all."   They fell into an uneasy quiet, with Serana often turning to look up the road to check if Isran was coming down yet.

"-does it bother you at all that we've been working against your father?"

"...I can't say it surprises me.  Not anymore.  I kind of figured I was heading for this someday.  I just didn't know when."

Ralsten hesitated, glancing to her nervously, opening his mouth to speak a few times but losing his nerve; she stared at him curiously, and he cleared his throat and looked away.  "Will it...be hard for you if we have to kill him?"

Her gaze dropped to her lap, jaw clenching before she answered.   "I've been assuming this is where it has to end...working against him is one thing, killing him though... I've been trying to make my peace with it.  He's still my father...but he has to be stopped, and I don't know that he ever will stop if he's left alive."

Very carefully, gingerly, Ralsten slid an arm around her shoulders and tugged her in toward his side; she stiffened at the touch but then glanced away shyly and let him lean her.

"I'm sorry.  For this whole ordeal.  If there was another way..."

She blew out a huff through her nose, head leaning against the metal guard that stretched from his shoulder down toward his chest.  "I could say the exact same thing to you, for what I've done to you and what you've suffered because of me."

He ran a tongue over a fang, scratching it on the tip.  "...you know.  When Harkon ambushed us, and threw me around like a child's toy, I -- I was terrified.  For myself.  For you.  For the world.  I thought was going to die there.  Leave my child an orphan again, leave you alone in the world again...  And when your father forced that choice on you, I felt anger too.  It just seemed...so cruel that a parent would put their daughter through something like this."

The elf trailed off a moment, drumming the fingers of his free hand against his thigh, the armor making a quiet staccato that was just barely audible over the rush of water.  "When you bespelled me that fear and anger vanished.  Because I knew that he'd placed me in your hands, which was the safest place he could have put me.  I knew you'd protect me, and -- I thought, if that was how I'd spend the rest of my life, then...that was all right."  He glanced down at her, seeing only the top of her head.  "It took a bit to get everything in my head straightened and back in the right order, but I remember it.  I remember it all.  I felt safe, and even a bit happy, that it was you that kept me."

"How could you possibly be happy that I'd enslaved you?" she asked, looking up at him in surprise.

"Because it was you.  Someone I trust and care for.  Because you're the one person I can call my friend.  If that was to be the end of it then being with you was the best ending I could have hoped for."  He let out a resigned chuckle.  "I know I must sound like a fool to you."

She leaned back to look him in the eyes; conflicting emotions warred on her face, each too quick for Ralsten to catch and read, and she looked ready to say something when there was the sound of hooves pounding down the road at them.

Somewhat reluctantly she pulled away and stood to face whoever was approaching.

#In Your Hands #iyh #In Your Hands ch 10 #serana #dragonborn #bosmer #dawnguard #vampires #Ralsten #Valerica #AU #Skyrim