8A/N - Thanks for chancing a look at this story, its been a while since I myself have chanced writing one. Italics are inner thoughts by the way, not mine just the characters. Who wants my opinion anyway? Speaking of opinion, feel free to leave yours, good or bad just review here or PM me. Thanks.
Peace was a rare commodity in the land of the Nords. The hardy people of the north cherished peace with all its comforts and securities, yet they are no strangers to war. Since the time of their arrival from the faraway continent of Atmora, the Nords were founded in battle. Waging a fierce war for survival, the ancient Nords nearly destroyed their new homes former inhabitants, the Snow Elves. Whether or not the Nords were justified in their systematic slaughter of the race was, and is, a matter for debate.
Carrying on their ancestors' heritage of war, the Nords of the present were currently in rebellion against the Cyrodilic empire. After a long crushing war against the Elves, the Empire had made massive concessions in order to return to peace. The Imperials relinquished massive quantities of territory, gave up large sums of gold, and were forced to permit Thalmor agents to regulate Imperial religion. While some recognized the necessity of the treaties terms, many a proud Nord had refused to accept what they deemed a terrible shame. Seemingly overnight the current rebel leader, Ulfric Stormcloak, raised his banner in defiance of the Empire, deeming it a corrupt bureaucracy, a shadow of its former glory under Tiber Septim.
Headquartered in the great city of Solitude, the base of Imperial loyalty lay in the western and southern holds of Skyrim. From staging areas in Hjaalmarch and South-west Skyrim, the Imperial Legion fought against the zealous insurgency. In sharp contrast to their enemies, Stormcloak forces found the most support in Skyrims cold harsh north, as well as the provinces along the eastern boundary with Morrowind. Naturally the two sides fought tirelessly for the strategic center of the land, Whiterun. While the capital of Skyrim may be Solitude, and the province's historical epicenter may be Windhelm, the prosperous commerce hub of Whiterun was in fact its most important city. The city was bustling with life and human traffic, perfect sources of taxes and recruits. It was no wonder how the sight of the once common trade caravan, was now replaced with a formation of Legionnaires or a group of Stormcloak patriots vying for control.
The Civil War dominated citizens thoughts and attentions easily, masking the deaths of men and mer as simply collateral damage. Bandits were a plenty, striking nearly every traveler with fear and fright. So if a single bandit went missing, whether by blade, arrow, spell or ... fangs, who would care?
No one. They should be throwing gold at my feet for the lives I saved, not chasing me halfway to Oblivion. Serana thought when a hint of anger crossed her angular features. She knew perfectly well why she was in her current predicament, it was blatantly obvious they feared her. Feared her and her kin. So she was on the run.
Vampires needed blood, that much was set in stone. How they got the blood was not. Willing participation was rare, only common with Daedra worshipers, so the only options were either deception or the hunt. Seducing an unsuspecting victim, particularly in populated areas, came easily to nearly every vampire. To Serana seduction was perhaps second nature, no harm done in this method, she didn't kill her food.
"No need to thin out the herd", Serana could almost hear her deceased father's voice. Besides some would even claim they got the better end of the deal.
She had however, gone too long without feeding one night. Resorting to less willing participants wasn't difficult, but still more risky. So when she happened upon a bandit camp she took her chance. Little could defeat her in battle, especially not half drunk criminals asleep in a makeshift camp. To even say it was a battle was a stretch.
Slaying the first few in silence, Serana decided upon a sleeping Brenton as her feast. The startled Breton girl couldn't even scream as Serana's fangs pierced both her jugular and her vocal cords in a perfect display of the vampires experience. The only things Serana was even aware of when she pierced the girls neck was the sounds of her own moans of pleasure as liquid gold entered her throat with each pull, and of course the thrilling sensation of her victims resistance, such a turn on. Needless to say, her surrender to her bodies needs had been the cause of her distraction. Serana was clueless to a recently arrived bandit taking in the uncommon sight in front of her. Serana, only becoming aware of her detection at the sound of a galloping horse. Serana decided against chasing the witness, figuring that a bandit would never go to the authorities. She returned to Whiterun without a second thought, what a mistake.
At first when she entered the city walls everything was as it always was, little changed the routines of Whiterun's busy citizens. The blacksmith was working the forge and the market was bustling with commerce, yet something was strange. With each step forward Serana had felt the heavy gazes of the people she passed by. It wasn't unusual for her to draw attention from others, particularly the opposite sex, something she painstakingly tried at, due to the benefits of providing a steady source of food. Yet these looks were more numerous than before. Serana noticed the lack of eye contact and the slow emptying of the market, clear signs of an imminent arrest, she could smell the fear of the Nords as they were slowly being replaced by the city guard.
She took the hint, slowly retreating from the city center to the slums. This was not the first time Serana had to escape the guards, yet it was the first in millennia. It was a simple task, she was in a densely populated city, the perfect environment for a vampire to hide in. Nothing rivaled a vampires ability to blend in to a group of Humans, skills and traits formed centuries in the past made them perfect predators. Naturally, skills such as hiding in plain sight had been developed and become second nature to all of Serana's kin. Whether the skill be used for hunting mortal blood, or escaping a wooden stake held no consequence.
The City Guard was lost as quickly as they had found her, to Serana's relief. She had lost her pursuers and was now taking refuge in an abandoned home, should anyone take a passing glance at her they would assume her to be one of the many squatters within the home, taking shelter from Skyrim's cold nights. Serana, however, had no plans on staying the night. With the coming darkness Serana would be able to leave the city without incident, and so she did.
Exiting the city turned out to be the least of her worries, several swordsman were questioning a carriage driver. With her primary means of travel ruled out she was forced to leave the hold on foot, heading west would take a while.
Serana finished replaying her situation in her head, she would arrive in Markarth soon. While she had the utmost confidence she would be granted entrance to the city, she didn't need an inquisitive guard asking about the memories she was obviously reliving, the blank stare usually gave that tidbit of information away.
Rounding the hill, Serana sidestepped a lone Khajiit, seemingly in too much of a hurry to watch where he was going. Normally she would have checked her pockets for her coin purse, yet two sights before her pushed the racial stereotype to the backlogs of her mind.
The first things she noticed were the striking city walls accompanied by multiple large guard towers. The dwarven origin clearly evident thanks to the slightly dulled gold trim accompanying the stone fortifications. With the city seemingly built into the mountain Serana assumed her only way into the metropolis was through the large bronze gate, located at the center of the wall. Normally this would promote only minimal issue, at most a slight annoyance. However, the second sight Serana laid eyes upon were the real trouble.
Dressed in heavy chainmail covered in a brass laden steel plate, two Dawnguard soldiers stood watch as a third member conversed with a gate guard. The two Dawnguard flanking, who Serana presumes to be, their leader had vicious looking axes accompanining their almost sun shaped steel shields. If weaponry alone wasn't enough to intimidate, both soldiers had on thick steel helms, bearing a remarkable resemblance to a birds beak, making them look much less human and much more deadly.
Damn it all,Serana turned swiftly on her heels immediately after she sighted the three men. Did the Whiterun guard contact the order? Where there more of them out there? Questions however would have to wait. If the Dawnguard were involved with her pursuit, it would be a safe bet to assume she wouldn't be able to remain in Skyrim. Little in the way of shelter could be found against that foe, city guard she could evade, veteran vampire hunters who had a hand in her father's death however, were another story.
But I like it here, this is my home. While she wasn't a mere mortal like the rest of the provinces inhabitants, she did feel a bond of sorts with her fellow Nords. Nothing as patriotic as the Stormcloaks, but there nonetheless. What to do, what to do? Diplomacy wasn't an option, Serana knew the Dawnguard had been looking for an excuse to kill her ever since she left Adrian's protection.
Adrian? Now there's a thought. Serana pondered the idea as she made significant distance between herself and Markarth. He owns a home in ... Hjaalmarch, right? Should only be a few days journey from here.
The former Dawnguard member would be able to protect her for a while, if not hide her and allow her refuge long enough for her to make arrangements. She had little doubt he would refuse her shelter, after all they been through it would be out of character for him to keep her on the streets.
Serana knew however, that a little animosity was directed toward her by him, accompanied by a little regret as well. In a perfect example of bad decision making, Serana had chosen to part ways with her friend ... her only friend.
Months ago, after her fathers defeat, she had felt the need to part ways with her friend ... savior, brother in arms, and ... the man who killed her father. By distancing herself from Adrian, she had tried to come to terms with her new life, if not to at least stay sane. Of course Adrian had protested to her leaving him, the two had grown fond of each other and he had taken obvious offense at her departure.
The man was young in Serana's mind, 22 was hardly anything deserving a second glance, at least when compared to the millennia old vampire. The fact that Serana was a thousand years old, yet still looked as if she was 22 as well, made little difference in her mind. I guess in an age of war and strife, not to mention giant reptiles raining down fear and death, it was a feet deserving of praise, to make it to the age of twenty-two.
Still, Adrian had made an impression on Serana despite her original thoughts of his age. Gaining her respect was not an easy task, yet he managed. Besting her in battle as she tried to kill him, did the job nicely. After waking her up she WAS rather thirsty.
What? You try being deprived of blood for a thousand years, and see how easy it is to resist the allure of a throat not five feet away.
But it was that he had, rather obviously, spared her life that garnered her admiration, showing a compassionate side to his rough sarcastic personality. That he probably spared her life because he had intended to grill her for information, not out of generosity, was lost on her at the time. Still, he had done more than enough after the incident that would have undoubtedly earned her attentions should he not already have been awarded them.
Perhaps that was the real reason I left? The sliver of thought entered Serana's mind and was immediately shoved aside. Regardless, it is a promising option, warm bed and company I can be myself with, how could I not pay a visit?
And with that thought, her mind was set, as well as her destination.
A/N - For those still with me thanks for doing so. This chapter is decidedly lacking in dialogue, that was planned, as there is no other significant character present at the moment, so if characters having conversations is your thing then I hope to update soon. I do plan on continuing this story, unlike my last one. I have a rough outline for whats to come, so no worries I am partially committed.