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whispersafterdusk · 5 years

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In Your Hands - ch 1

He wasn't certain what he'd been expecting, but to have a woman fall out of the center of that crypt (and armed with an Elder Scroll, no less) was definitely toward the end of the list of things he COULD have expected. The introductions, such as they were, hadn't lasted long. As she'd fallen from the central, coffin-like structure he remembered the crossbow he'd been carrying had hit the ground at his feet and harmlessly fired its bolt out into the darkness to plink against the distant wall; his now emptied hands had caught her by the arms as she fell and had steadied her, keeping hold until she stood under her own power and stared at his helmeted face in confusion. ((Continued below cut))

The woman was pale skinned with strange, amber eyes that glowed at him in the dim light. Her hair was black and worn short with braids; she was slender and clad in leather armor that was black and a deep red, with a cloak held to her with a clasp that made him think of a wagon wheel, and a choker that was darkened silver in the shape of some nightmarish beast's head.

When she was standing solidly he'd reached up to tug off his steel plate helm; his sweaty, straw-colored hair was matted to his head with only the braid at his left temple able to somewhat swing free. His eyes came close to matching hers in color (though they didn't glow) and as he stood there studying her he watched her gaze move from his short hair, to the yellow markings across his tanned skin, to the scar that splattered across his high cheekbones on the left side stopping just shy of his sparse mustache and beard. She'd seemed to be searching for something in his face but what, he couldn't say.

She'd asked who had sent him, and wondered why he wasn't "like her." He'd not really had an answer for that, but any that he could have offered had been interrupted with an explosion of stone and a statue roaring to life and charging across a bridge toward them both.

She'd said her name was Serana. "Ralsten!" he'd barked in return, bringing the crossbow up and slotting another bolt into place as this new threat had come barreling at him. "Assuming we survive the walk out, I'll get you home!"

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When they emerged from Dimhollow Crypt they found themselves in a miserably cold downpour; to even reach the place Ralsten had had to climb iced over, uneven stone steps set into a steep hill partly carved into the side of a mountain. The rain had turned the steps into a slick mess of slush, mud, and puddles -- just taking six steps from the doorway had proven dangerous and twice he'd almost lost his footing entirely and nearly pitched over the edge.

Serana still stood within the meager cover of the crypt's entrance - she had pulled up the hood attached to her cloak but it hardly seemed to do a thing against the insistent rainfall even considering she was partly sheltered, and she looked just as disappointed and annoyed with the weather as he was. When he slipped the second time she'd lifted the lantern she'd carried out from the crypt and looked at him in some concern until he'd gotten his feet back under him; he in turn looked back to her, an identical lantern hanging from his belt and an exasperated sigh escaping him as the rain plinked off his armor.

"As much as I'm sure we'd both like to get as far from here as possible I think we ought to shelter somewhere close for a bit, if only because we're not going to get far in this rain and I'd rather not fall off a mountain." Ralsten shielded his eyes and looked up to the sky; it had been mid-afternoon when he'd first descended into Dimhollow and though he could see it was now evening with the overcast sky he couldn't tell how late it actually was. They may be here all night, or it may be only a few hours until morning...but even if it had been exactly midday they still wouldn't be traveling very far in this mud -- it wouldn't be so bad if they could reach a road, but he knew the nearest one was quite a downhill hike from here and it was too risky to try and reach with this rainfall.

"You must be tired, as well."

"--well, and that," he admitted after a pause, but an instant later wondered if it was wise to admit to her that he was weary.

He had tethered his horse to a metal ring hammered into one of the stacked stone pillars outside of the crypt's entrance, but the horse was nowhere to be found. With some irritation Ralsten removed his helmet and stuck the very tips of his armored fingertips to his lips and blew; the shrill whistle seemed to fall flat, washed away in the rainfall, but several breaths later he heard a familiar nickering and could hear the mud sucking at the footsteps of something close. At the sound he felt a profound sense of relief -- if the horse was still nearby then that meant it hadn't been stolen or killed; the cost of a horse was easy enough to afford but the wood elf was more interested in the supplies held within the saddlebags, and he smiled when the horse finally materialized out of the darkness and snorted at him.

Just those few moments helmetless was enough to soak his hair and he could feel the clammy chill inching down the padded cloth shirt he wore under his steel plate; it was going to be a miserable, cold night even with a fire going as he couldn't very well go armorless with who-knew-what in the wilds around them...not to mention the fact he had an unexpected, and unknown, guest with him now.

When the horse came near enough Ralsten grabbed the reins and turned toward Serana. "Get on and I'll lead."

"Why? Are you sure? I can walk - it's just mud," came her response, and he could see an unsure (and perhaps a bit insulted) look on her face.

"Aye," he answered, cramming his helm back on. "I can manage all right...I think. And I'd rather have at least one set of eyes looking out for trouble rather than looking at their feet."

There was a ghost of a sudden, understanding smile on her face at that, and she carefully squelched her way over to the horse and climbed into the saddle; it was slightly easier going with the horse to steady him and he led the beast back the way it had come, heading up the mountain away from the stairs that he had very, very carefully led the horse up hours earlier when the weather had been clear. He hadn't intended to go very far but after a time the ground grew rockier and more solid under his feet so he kept moving forward. To their left was a wall of rock that stretched tall above their heads - it was far too steep to scale even in perfect weather - and to the right was the edge of the even steeper ridge he sincerely hoped they wouldn't fall from; he kept one hand on the rock to further steady himself and continued to stomp up the mountainside path.

"How far did you plan on going?"

He walked on for a time longer before replying. "Keep your eyes open for an outcrop or cave - it'll be more comfortable than a bit of leather against this nonsense."

The rain was finally beginning to slow when Serana raised her lantern and pointed somewhere ahead of them. "Do you see - there?"

Ralsten swung his lantern up higher; the stone gleamed brightly in the light, slick with rain and ice, but ahead of them the shiny, reflective surface had a deep darkness underneath it -- an overhang of some sort, it looked like, and tall enough for them to sit under. "Good eye."

He led the horse to the overhang and saw it was slightly taller than he'd thought, and it was definitely deeper than he'd been expecting; the wood elf dragged the horse in even closer and there it huddled near the overhang's edge as Ralsten began unbuckling leather straps and tugging saddlebags free.

Serana had slid from the saddle as he worked and was tucked under the overhang as far back as she could manage, well out of the rain; she'd unclasped her cloak and wrapped it more securely around herself and the Elder Scroll was laid across her lap. He moved about setting out a bedroll, a flagon of mead, and sparking a tiny fire with the few dry enough bits of firewood from one of the saddlebags -- Ralsten could see the little pinpoints of her eyes following him as he worked; he at last settled onto a rock, loosened a few straps on his armor so he could bend over more easily, and set an iron cup at the fire's edge to warm. The last thing he did was unhook a pair of maces from his belt and drop them to the ground on either side of him within easy reach -- it was as close to unarmored as he was willing to risk tonight.

"I've only travel gear for one, we'll have to share."

She was silent a long moment, watching as he poured mead from the flagon into the cup that was warming by the fire. "You're...not afraid of me."

"Don't see a reason why I should be." He leaned forward to set his helmet by the fire to dry out, studying her in the flickering flame's light.

"Who sent you after me? You're not like me."

There was that odd phrase again. "A man named Isran -- but I wasn't there for you. I was trying to find a man named Tolan."

"I don't know an Isran, or Tolan. Are they like me?"

"No," he replied, using a toe to nudge a wedge of wood further into the flames. He could feel her eyes on him - she no doubt was expecting him to elaborate further, but he remained quiet. With her repeating the 'like me' question for a third time it had occurred to him what she was implying...but, he wanted to hear her confirm it herself, directly - without the hints and games.

She was silent for a time, studying him in the firelight; he was content to wait, and finally she spoke again. "Then, who are you? Who are they? Why would they have you come all the way down here?"

"...I am a member of the Dawnguard. As are they. And, to be honest, they would want me to kill you."

She tensed. "Not fond of vampires, are they?"

There it was, finally.

He shook his head, keeping his expression neutral; he made no move toward his weapons but he could see her gaze flick to them.

"Look. Kill me, you've killed one vampire. But -- you saw others in there, didn't you? If people are after me, there's something bigger going on. I could help you find out what that is."

"Why offer to help me?"

"There's something you're not letting on. You were down there for a reason, even if it wasn't me."

"True. I was sent there for answers on behalf of the Dawnguard. Two men died down there, to the vampires I was forced to confront when I arrived. Why were you locked away while they walked about freely?"

"That's...complicated," she answered after a moment. Her gaze finally shifted from him and to the fire, staring into the heart of the flames. "And I'm not totally sure if I can trust you."

"I promise you, on my honor, that if I was sent to kill you or wanted you dead, I would have done so already. I have no desire to hurt you, but I AM needing the answers I was sent to find."

"I understand. If you want to know the whole story, help me get back to my family's home."

"Where would that be?"

Serana held her hands to the fire, letting another long silence stretch between them. "...my family used to live on an island to the west of Solitude. I would guess they still do."

"I know Solitude and the surrounding area well," Ralsten said with a chuckle. "I can get us there. Just be on the look out for trouble and try to stay out of my way if we're attacked."

She gave him something of a smirk. "I was going to say the same thing to you."

He laughed, then picked up the cup of warmed mead and took a few swallows; when he offered the cup to Serana she held up a hand to decline, and he took a few swallows more. "The moment this clears up we'll be off."

"Didn't you say you were tired?"

"I am, but I won't be sleeping in freezing, wet armor. We'll stop at the first place we find that has an inn and I will rest there for a time."

Serana frowned, her attention moving from the fire to the overcast sky. "Do you really think it's wise to take me near other people?"

"Are you going to attack them?"

"No...but they might attack me."

"They won't, or else I'll keep them from doing so. We'll be fine, I promise."

"If you say so."

#In Your Hands #iyh #In Your Hands ch 1 #serana #dragonborn #bosmer #dawnguard #vampires #AU #Skyrim

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