#Auriel's bow weighs heavy in her hands

[the-drunken-huntsman]

Thinking about Aneis and Gelebor having a Midsommar-esque crying session over all the horrible shit Akatosh/Auri-El put them through

[whispersafterdusk]

In Your Hands - ch 14

Solitude appeared just as it had the last time she'd been here; she walked freely through its streets with her hood down as she'd found over the last several months that the glow of her eyes was a lot less noticeable in sunlight and had learned to endure its brightness in order to pass as human.  No one stopped or challenged her as she walked a familiar route and approached the large house that had seemed so impossibly perfect to her before...but, as she approached the house something seemed...off.

There were heavy stone planters near the steps that lead up to the second story door, the street-level door had been bricked up and had ivy growing up it now.  Wooden boxes hung from the windows full of flowers and once she was close enough she could see that the second story door was different from what she remembered.

It gave her a feeling that something was wrong, and that feeling had her pausing for a moment before she knocked on the door.

At first no one answered; after several minutes she knocked again but louder this time and still there was no answer.  The feeling of wrongness intensified but she told herself that perhaps he just wasn't home -- but then, there was the sound of several locks clicking, and the door opened just a crack and a small girl peeked out at her.

Serana tilted her head, trying to get a clear look at the child.  "...Lucia?"

The door opened a tad further, the girl squinting up at her; the child's face suddenly lit up with recognition and she opened the door.   "I remember you!  You're papa's friend!"

Serana sighed silently with relief.  "Yes, Lucia, I am.  Is your father home?"

The girl's face fell, but then just as quickly scrunched up into a conspiratorial look -- she stuck her head outside and looked around, then gestured for Serana to come inside; once she was inside the girl locked the doors again, then held a finger to her lips and tiptoed up the stairs to the left, leading Serana up to what could only be the girl's bedroom.

"There.  I don't think Eveline is home but I don't want her to catch you."  Lucia shoved the door shut and leaned against it, looking up at Serana.

"...where's you father?" Serana asked again.  The feeling of wrongness had blossomed into a feeling of dread that settled like a pit of ice in her stomach when the girl shook her head.

"He's not here anymore."

"What do you mean?" Serana asked quickly, trying to keep her voice steady.

Lucia didn't answer right away; she went to a chest at the foot of her bed and rooted around inside of it, tossing out books and clothing until she straightened, holding a much smaller, plain wooden box.

Serana's hands clenched in the fabric of her cloak.  "Lucia...where is your father?"

"They found out papa was a vampire and made him leave," the girl answered finally, turning toward her with the box in hand.  "He writes me letters and I'm supposed to be allowed to write to him too but Eveline keeps taking them and throwing them in the fire when she thinks I'm in bed.  I quit giving her the letters but I hope papa doesn't think I don't love him anymore because I haven't been writing."

Serana stood there stunned at the news, the feeling of dread now wrestling with a surge of guilt -- he'd been forced to leave, because he was a vampire? How long ago?  Where had he gone?

 This is my fault.

She shook herself back to the present when Lucia shoved the wooden box into her hands.

"What-"

"I've been saving my letters.  I heard Faraan say papa lives on a farm now - I don't know where that is, but if you find him will you give him my letters and tell him I miss him?  And that I've been trying to write to him but they won't let me?  They keep saying I need to forget about him..."  Lucia trailed off, sounding as sad as she looked.

"I... Yes, of course.  You're sure you don't know where this farm is?"

Lucia shook her head. "No...  If I did, I'd go live with him instead.  Faraan and Eveline are nice, but they think going to the Bard's college is a waste of time and want me to learn how to be a merchant instead.  But I don't want to sell things, I want to learn how to sing and play the flute."

Serana nodded, feeling dazed and still feeling the guilt keenly.  "I'll make sure he gets these, Lucia.  I promise."

Lucia's face broke into a wide grin.  "Thank you!  You should go before Eveline gets home...we'll both get in trouble if she finds you here."

Lucia escorted her down the stairs again and let her out the door; Serana stood in stunned silence on the front stoop, hearing the locks click back into place behind her.

In the eight months since she'd last seen Ralsten, they'd found out what he was and had driven him from his home.  

It was a small comfort to know they hadn't killed him outright but his situation was entirely her fault and now she didn't even know how to find him.

She tucked the wooden box under an arm and made her way back out through the gates of Solitude, looking out over the expanse of land to the city's south...he could be anywhere at this point and she had no one she trusted enough to ask about him -- the Dawnguard had told her he'd only stuck around with them for a month or so after they'd cleared the castle and she didn't dare risk asking anyone here.

There was a lot of Skyrim she'd seen and none of it had had Ralsten in it.  She supposed the only answer was to keep looking.

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

It took three weeks to find the little farm tucked in amongst a grove of trees, far to the southwest of Solitude.

The farmhouse was long and narrow, and looked to be one story with some kind of attic built on; it was surrounded with fencing that was constructed from untreated felled logs pounded into the earth which encircled the house as well as a large pond behind the house itself.   Six goats and a pair of cattle milled about in the wide yard with a very minimal barn built behind the house near the pond, pushed up against the fencing, and on the side of the house opposite the barn was a fenced in garden area full of cabbage and leek plants.

She found the gate to be unlocked and pushed her way inside, following a plain dirt path up to the front door; at her knock there was a sudden loud baying of a hound (which admittedly startled her) but much like at the house in Solitude no one came to answer the door at first.

This time she was determined to beat the door down until either someone answered or someone came home and found her; the dog kept barking inside as she kept knocking, and finally...the dog was silenced with a sharp order from a familiar man's voice, and the door was pulled open.

Ralsten was clad in a loose shirt that was hanging open - it had ties but they were left undone - as well as dark cloth pants, both equally wrinkled.  He looked like he'd just woke up, but his sleepy look changed to one of confusion, then his mouth hung open slightly as realization crossed his face.

"Serana?"

She stepped inside and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly; at his feet a large, scruffy gray hound sat and panted, tail sweeping the floor and slightly wiggling the dog's hindquarters back and worth.  Ralsten finally hugged her to him then as the shock wore off; he was hard muscle under her hands - it was very different from hugging him in his armor, and he smelled faintly of woodsmoke.

When the hound finally hopped up and began to jump on and paw at Serana in its excitement she let Ralsten go; he grabbed the hound gently by the scruff and nudged him out the door, then closed and leaned against it, staring at her.

"I...I can't believe you're here."

Ralsten looked...almost exactly as she remembered him.  He had three scars down the left side of his face - they were too jagged and wide to be claw marks from anything she could think of - and he had a paler, older look to him that seemed to be slowly melting away in his excitement.

"Here, here - sit," he went on, almost falling over himself to pull out a chair from the desk that was pushed to the wall right beside the door.

The inside of the farmhouse was neat and cozy; she could see a wide bed to the far right, in the corner between the wall and the side of the fireplace.  The fireplace was made of sturdy, round stones cemented in place and with a plain but varnished wooden mantle -- hanging above that mantle, to her surprise, was Auriel's Bow and resting atop the mantle was the mace and sword she remembered him wielding when they'd defeated her father.

There was the desk to her immediate left -- it was covered in a few books, ink wells, quills, and rolls of parchment stacked in a tall pile, along with a few scattered, cut sapphires weighing down what looked like maps of The Reach.  Further off to her left was a small table with a pair of benches on either side, a ladder that led up to a loft above their heads, what looked like stairs leading down, and the floor beneath her feet was polished wooden planks.

It all seemed new and well-kept, but compared to the house in Solitude...

She swallowed as the guilt rose again.  Ralsten pulled a stool from beside the fireplace over so he could sit near her - it placed him at her feet again she realized - and he seemed to not know what to do with himself or his hands.

He finally clasped his hands in his lap and simply stared at her, like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"I can't tell you the number of times I wondered if I'd see you again."

She smiled weakly.  "And here I thought you would have forgotten about me."

"No, never," he said quickly.  "I could never forget you."

The earnest way he'd said it warmed a bit of the ice in her stomach. She looked around at the room.  "...what happened, Ralsten?" she asked softly.  "Why are you here instead of home?"

Ralsten's smile flickered briefly and he blew out a sigh followed by a small chuckle.  "It doesn't really matter.  How have you been?  Where have you been?  What sort of adventures have you gotten into without me?"

He'd said it lightly - teasing her - but she wasn't about to let him duck the question.  She reached out to cup his face in her hands, forcing him to look her in the eyes; the scars she'd noticed were very new and hadn't filled out yet - she ran a thumb over the ridges, frowning.

"Ralsten.  What happened?"

For a long moment he was silent, then he ran a hand over his hair.  "Where do you want me to start?"

"Where did you go after we parted ways?"

"Back to the fort.  I stayed with the Dawnguard for...about a month, I think.  The scholars there looked through every book and scrap they had and couldn't find any mention or hint of a cure.  Isran said he would inquire elsewhere but that in the meantime there was no reason for me to stay, and I wasn't exactly welcome there either...so, I left.  I went and got Lucia and Lydia in Whiterun and went home. For awhile I kept my vampirism hidden just by not staying in Solitude for all that long - which, thankfully, wasn't unusual for me so no one suspected anything was wrong, and Lydia swore not to tell anyone after I'd told her the entire story of you and Harkon...so, it was all fine, until Delphine found me."

Serana looked at him curiously.  "Delphine?"

Ralsten nodded.  "Delphine - the last member of the Blades, some group that used to serve and protect the Dragonborns in the past.  She found me, and I learned the true reason why all the dragons were awakening and what my destiny as Dragonborn actually was...  That's where this came from-" he said after a pause, pointing to the new scars across his face.  "Alduin, the World Eater.  This...ancient dragon destined to devour the world -- MY destiny to stop him.  I actually had to travel to Sovngarde itself to face him, once and for all...I stood beside ancient legends to strike Alduin down, but it wasn't easy -- it nearly killed me, in fact.  When I was returned to Nirn I was badly injured, and I summoned Durnehviir to carry me back to Solitude."

He frowned heavily at the memory, then shook his head.  "If I'd been thinking clearly at the time I would have done anything but that.  When they were tending to me that's how they found out I was..."  He shrugged, and she didn't need him to elaborate to know what he meant.

"I'm sorry..." she said after a moment.  "This is my fault."

"No.  Absolutely not," he replied sharply.  He rested a hand on her knee, shaking it gently until she looked to him.  "This isn't your fault.  It's the fault of your father's, and no one else."

She couldn't look at him for long.  "-why didn't they kill you?"

"They waited until I woke to demand answers.  I told them everything - our fight against the prophecy, my fight against Alduin.  I reminded them of everything I'd ever done for Solitude and that I'd been living peacefully among them for months before they learned.  I explained feeding off animals, I-- ...I threw myself on the mercy of the Jarl.  I made my case, and then I begged them not to make Lucia an orphan a second time, or to force her to live through what I did when my adopted mother was killed in front of me.  Elisif, against the counsel of her court, granted me that mercy -- I was locked in a cell while they built me this place.  Most everything I owned was given to Lucia, with Faraan and Eveline named as her stewards, then I was banished here and told to never step foot in any city again.  Thankfully they allow me to write to Lucia so I wasn't suddenly gone from her life."

At the mention of the letters Serana swung her pack around and dug inside to pull out the little wooden box.  "I stopped by your house in Solitude, looking for you.  Lucia asked me to carry these to you - she said she's getting your letters but that Eveline kept destroying her answers to them."

Brow furrowing he took the box and turned it over in his hands, then figured out how to slide the lid free and looked down at dozens of folded letters stuffed inside it; a fond smile crossed his lips.  "I had a feeling..."

"Ralsten..."

He sat the box on the desk and looked back to her. "Yes?"

"Whether you believe it's my fault or not...I'm sorry.  I'm sorry my struggle ruined your life."

He inhaled and exhaled slowly, then smiled wistfully at her.  "It's not your fault, and it's turned out better than I could have hoped for. Lucia is being cared for, I've left her a fortune, she'll grow up into a kind, intelligent woman, and she didn't have to witness the death of her father."

"It's terrible that they turned on you so quickly, after everything you've done."

"It is," he agreed, but then shrugged.  "But it could be worse."  He stared at the floor for a breath or two, then looked up to her with a genuine smile.  "I've missed you.  What have you done while you were gone?"

She smiled at him - hearing that finally fully melted the cold feeling in her stomach though it didn't fully banish the guilt.  "Well. After you left I walked through the castle.  I found a lot of things we'd stolen over the centuries - belongings of people who were lured here and made into thralls.  I made sure the Dawnguard stragglers took it to give to the thralls that were rescued from the dungeons...I had no need for it and I didn't really want to look at it.  It's difficult to really - to really face the horrible things you never really saw or thought about.  We were followers of Molag Bal but I guess it never really sank in what that meant, and I never saw or understood the terrible things my parents and clan were doing."  She paused, rubbing the palms of her hands against her thighs.  "I was taught that power was everything, and that I was better than everyone else and meant to rule.  It's just what you believed and desired when you followed him.  I never had any reason to question it until this prophecy came around and I realized how little power I actually had, how little choice or control I had in my life, and how alone I really was."

She fell silent and he waited patiently at her feet; she gave him a strained smile after a moment.  "Did I ever mention how one becomes a Daughter of Coldharbour?"

He shook his head, and as she quickly explained the ritual his expression went from happiness, to confusion, to outright horror -- never once did she feel he felt disgusted BY her, but he was horrified to hear what it truly meant to be a Daughter of Coldharbour.

"I...that..."

She nodded quietly, staring down into her hands in her lap.  "At the time it was just...something expected of the women who followed him.   Few survive it."

"If your father wasn't dead I think I'd be heading to kill him right now."

She blinked at the anger in his voice and looked to him; his fists were clenched, as was his jaw.

"I cannot believe a parent would put their own child through something that...that..."

Serana just nodded.  After a time Ralsten closed his eyes and took a deep breath, appearing calmer as he slowly exhaled.

"-anyway," she went on.  "I... In a way I was afraid to go find you. I didn't want to bring more strife into your life, so I traveled some on my own...I've seen a lot of wonders - Skyrim is full of all these forgotten little places, and full of history.  And while it was enjoyable, it just felt...empty, after awhile.  I wasn't exactly bored, but I was -- lonely," she said after a pause.  "I've had a lot of time to think and I realized I missed you.  When I went to the Dawnguard they said you'd left and had been gone awhile...then I went to Solitude and you weren't there either."

"But you found me," he said with a chuckle.  "I never meant to make it difficult to you to find me again...I was really limited in what the Jarl would allow me to do. I wouldn't be surprised if a guard shows up soon to make you leave -- I'm pretty sure I'm being watched."

"Have you not been allowed to leave here, at all?"  Ralsten nodded and she frowned heavily.  "They've trapped you here."

He nodded again.  "More or less.  It's not so bad a life...simple.   Peaceful.  Grow some crops, milk the cattle and goats, trade it for feed for the animals I survive on.  I don't need the meat but I find fishing is a good way to pass the time - I might someday be able to trade it for coin."

"That you can't spend anywhere," Serana said flatly.

"Well.  True, yes."

"You can't mean to tell me you're happy here?"

"Happy enough.  I'm alive."

Serana sighed, pressing her lips into a thin line and staring a hole through the door.  It just wasn't fair for this to happen to him.

Ralsten gave her a kind smile and stood.  "Are you hungry?  Tired?"

She shook her head, watching as he moved over toward the stairs; he disappeared down them briefly then came back up carrying a pair of glass bottles full of a red liquid.  He set them on the desk within her reach and returned to sitting at her heels.

"I've found if I leave no air in the bottle then it doesn't dry out.  Makes them a bit messy to open up though," he chuckled.

She reached out to take one of the bottles but didn't open it, instead holding it just to give her hands something to do.  "...what happens if you leave?"

"I don't really know.  I've not given it any thought - I didn't want to leave."

"Why?"

"Well.  It would have made it harder for you to find me if I was moving around."

"But you don't even know if they'd allow you to leave?  Or what will happen if you DO leave?"

Ralsten slowly shook his head, then looked at her thoughtfully.  "Are you wanting me to leave?  With you?"

Serana carefully returned the bottle of blood to the desk and shifted the chair to face him; after leaving the castle she'd gotten rid of her Volkihar finery and had settled on a set of plain leather armor in a dark brown -- the chest of the armor had a strap from left shoulder to right hip with a loop that her belt fed through, and hanging from the belt were several pouches and a sheathed dagger.  Her hand trembled as she slid it into one of the pouches - it held only one thing, and the little metal medallions that hung to either side of the pendant on the chain gently rattled against one another as she pulled it free and held it cupped in a hand.

She jostled it up and down in her hand a moment, then hung it from her fingers and used both hands to slip the chain over Ralsten's head.

He looked down and caught the pendant between his thumb and forefinger, looking at it and then looking up at her in surprise and letting it thump back to his chest.

"I - like I said, I've had a lot of time to think.  To figure out what it is I want," she said softly, smoothing the amulet of Mara against his chest.  "If you're not tired of me yet, I'd like it if you belonged to me again."

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, stunned, then he finally nodded and pressed himself into her lap, on his knees in front of her.   "I - yes, of course.  Always."

She slid a hand through his hair, feeling lighter at heart.  "I'm glad...I'm glad you'll be with me."  She paused, then laughed quietly.   "Though I don't think either of us will be welcome in any temple."

He straightened and gently squeezed her arms, then stood and tugged her after him; he led her down the stairs into a cellar that was cool but dry, with a dirt floor and walls.  There were shelves and some crates stacked along the wall - a leather tarp covered the bottom layer of the stack - as well as a rudimentary alchemy table that was bloodstained in the far corner near to where Ralsten's armor was piled in a heap. In the very middle of the room was a coffin, its lid hanging open and lined with what looked to be pale blue cloth of some kind.

The elf led her over to a small locked box sitting on one of the shelves and unlocked it with a key he fished from a chest; when he opened it and turned it toward her she saw it was full of rings, necklaces, and cut gemstones.

"What's this?"

"I was forced to leave everything I had at the house behind -- they only let me keep what was actually on me when Durnehviir dumped me into Solitude's streets.  When I was working with the Dawnguard, I kept a bag of gems and jewelry hidden in my cot so I'd have things to barter with if I needed to resupply but didn't have the coin or time to return home."

She looked up at him somewhat surprised, a distant memory coming to mind of Ralsten asking Isran to bring a bag back with him when he'd brought Dexion down to speak to them.

He lightly jiggled the box at her.  "We don't need a temple, or a priest's recognition.  Take whatever you like.  Take all of it, if you want."

She sorted through the various rings until she found two that were roughly the same and were the right sizes -- both were silver, one with a square cut emerald set into it and the other a smaller round emerald with a pair of even smaller diamonds to either side of it.  Taking the one with the square emerald she slid it onto Ralsten's finger and he in turn slid the emerald and diamond one onto hers.

He closed the box and locked it again, then leaned forward and kissed her.  When he pulled back she ran a finger underneath the chain of the amulet.

"I guess it's a good thing they put a bed in your house."  The look he gave her was one of...she wanted to call it boyish shyness; she tugged on the necklace and led him back up the stairs by the chain.

It was clear he wasn't exactly experienced in the act but his timidness was endearing and she was able to mold him in her hands, kind but firm -- certain in what she wanted out of him, and sure in how to instruct him.  When they were through and satisfied since they were unable to sleep they laid together and enjoyed the closeness of skin and sweat; Serana decided she quite liked how his toned muscles felt under her hands and wasn't shy about curling up on his chest.  He soon idly twined his fingers with hers and put a kiss on the top of her head.

They laid together for the rest of the night, until dawn was beginning to peek through the windows.

"Are you sure...that this is what you want?  What if Isran finds a cure?" she asked into the early morning quiet.  She rolled over to look at him, folding her hands on his chest and resting her chin on them.  

Ralsten considered her a moment, then looked to the ceiling.   "...even if I get cured I can't go back to that life.  The best thing I can do for Lucia is to let her go -  she'll never live a normal life if everyone in Solitude is constantly suspicious of me."  He went silent for a time, then looked to her again.  "And even if Isran finds a cure, that decision isn't entirely mine."

"What do you mean?  Of course it is."

He shook his head.  "No, it isn't."

Serana met his gaze and couldn't help but feel confused.  "I don't think I understand how."

He reached up to adjust the straw pillow beneath his head.  "It's as much your decision as mine.  If I'm cured and you aren't, you'll outlive me -- well, by that I mean, if I die of old age and not because something killed me.  I'd leave you alone in the world again."

She was silent for a long moment, mulling that over -- she had to admit he was right: she WOULD outlive him if he was turned human again. It was a thought that hadn't really occurred to her...but...

"What if I get cured too?"

The look her gave her was part surprise, part confusion.  "Why would you?"

It was a good question, really.

"I think..." she began, truly considering it as she spoke.  "That... Maybe, I could truly be my own person.  Not a vampire, just...me.   Whatever happens, whatever I might end up becoming."

"Fair.  Really it's something of a moot point if we never learn of a cure, but then I guess it's either we both get cured or neither of us get cured if we do."

She smiled -- she could agree to that; as it grew lighter outside she found herself growing sleepy - it had been a very long time since she'd actually slept.  Ralsten must have sensed it or seen it in her face; he bundled her up in the thin blanket, pausing only to tug his pants on, then carried her down to the cellar.  He lowered her feet inside the coffin and laid her down, bringing a hand up to kiss her fingers.

"I seem to remember something like this, only in reverse."

Ralsten chuckled.  "Rest."

"What about you?"

He jerked his head toward the stack of crates, sitting atop others with a leather tarp separating them.  "I'll be all right."

She wasn't completely clear on what he meant but she nodded and pulled the coffin lid closed and was asleep almost instantly; it was already late in the evening when she finally woke, and when she pushed the lid open once more she saw a second coffin next to her -- the crates along the wall were no longer stacked and the leather tarp was tossed across the alchemy table.

This second coffin was not nearly so finely crafted as the one she lay in - she wondered if Ralsten had made this one himself - and she ran gentle fingers over the lid before climbing the stairs and dressing herself, then taking one of the bottles of blood and draining it.

Some hours later Ralsten stirred and came up, drinking the second bottle and then settling on their wedding bed.

"Where shall we go first?"

She hesitated a moment - there was a lot she wanted to say, and explain...a lot that she'd thought of while trying not to think of him. It had been mostly to give herself excuses to not come back - to forget and move on - but now that she was here, and he was hers again... If she actually went through with the crazy path she'd thought up for herself, he'd be there with her...but what if he didn't agree?  It was too important, she felt, to leave unexplored -- and, in a way, it was as close to his heart as it was to hers.  Something deeply personal.

"When I was trying to explore, I was avoiding towns and people.  I didn't want anyone to realize what I was...but eventually the loneliness drove me mad.  I started going into inns just to sit in a corner and listen to people around me.  It's what made me realize - really realize - how much I missed you, and wanted you with me."

Ralsten smiled at that - it was almost shy and she smiled back at him with a genuine affection.

"But... As I looked at all these people around me living their lives I started wondering what I wanted to be...to become.  All this time I've only ever been the daughter of Harkon and Valerica, a follower of Molag Bal, a Daughter of Coldharbour.  I did what I was told or what was expected of me without questioning it.  That's not a life, that's a prison.  And now I'm out of that prison -- what now?  There was a night where I was puzzling out that question when I heard some men talking about the war going on...and I had this terrible thought."

Ralsten was watching her, listening intently; when she paused he gestured for her to go on, and she took a deep breath as a sudden nervousness of him not understanding (or worse, not wanting to help or stay) blossomed in her.

"--my father liked to say power takes precedence.  It was everything to him.  One other thing he liked to remind everyone of though was how our clan was responsible for a lot of the vampires that are in Skyrim now.  If that's true, each generation out there is of our bloodline, and our bloodline would have grown weaker with each one.  I know there were plenty of times where my father had the lesser vampires killed off if they were causing too much trouble, overstepping their bounds, or increasing the risk of exposing us.  If these lesser vampires know of their family tree, so to speak... My parents and I are the oldest and purest of blood in Skyrim -- with him gone, and my mother still in the Soul Cairn, what if the other vampires grow bolder and try to seize power and control?"

She watched as the intent scrutiny on his face gave way to surprise, and then an uneasy thoughtfulness.  It seemed crazy to contemplate, and the first time it had come to her Serana had dismissed it as delusional...and yet... Before they (or at least, before Serana herself) truly understood what the prophecy meant Valerica had been concerned about a war between vampires and mortals -- that was one of her main reasons for not wanting the prophecy to come to pass as it would guarantee that their kind would be outnumbered and wiped out by the combined armies of the world.

It wouldn't be nearly on the same scale but if other vampires saw an opportunity in her father's death to try and seize power and influence...there'd be fighting not just among the vampires but between vampires and any mortals they revealed themselves to.

"So..." Ralsten started, drawing the word out.  "What...  What do you want to do?  I'm not sure I fully understand what you're trying to tell me."

Serana nodded and didn't blame him in the slightest.  "With my father gone, it's possible some other vampires may try to step into the throne that's left empty.  That would pit vampire against vampire, and that would definitely draw attention from any mortals they're not careful around.  That war my mother was so worried about may happen on a smaller scale spread across all of Skyrim."

Ralsten's eyes widened.  "I-- yes, I see what you mean now.  That would be terrible, for everyone."  He rubbed a hand through his hair, smoothing it mostly back into place.  "What do we do though?  What CAN we do?"

Serana went quiet; here again was the fear that he wouldn't want anything to do with this crazy plan and by extension her.  Still...this was something that was equally hers and his as well - something close to the heart that she felt he would understand.

She lifted her head and looked at him.  "I remember a good man searching for one good vampire...he was raised by one, found one, and became one himself.  But maybe there's more out there."

He stared at her for a moment, looking puzzled.  "You... Want to hunt these vampires down?"

"Sort of.  You're a good man who happens to be a vampire, and your mother was one.  And you found me.  Maybe there's others.  Maybe we can gather them together and rid Skyrim of the rest, without sparking any wars that would be in danger of wiping out our kind.  And if my family really is the reason vampires exist in Skyrim...maybe it should be up to me to end that legacy too."

"That sounds like you want to build a court to replace your father's."

"It would be nothing like his."

"Well obviously not exactly," Ralsten said quickly.  "But I'm trying to understand -- even if we gather any good men or women with us, what then?  It's not going to make the world any more welcoming to us.  It might stop fighting between vampires but it doesn't mean people are going to stop and think about whether they're killing a good or bad one."

"No, it won't make us any more liked.  But it'd be a way to stop a lot of needless death for everyone involved."

Ralsten nodded, lowering his head to stare down at the floor in thought.

Serana felt a bizarre sense of relief -- all of that had been churning in her mind for some time now, and he hadn't outright dismissed it OR her.  An end to Harkon's - Volkihar's - legacy, and a way to preserve her (their) kind as well as the mortals they shared this world with...it felt like the right path to take.

(And, in a sort of selfish way, at the very least it should give the Dawnguard pause and hopefully slow down any deliberation on whether Skyrim would be better off without her and Ralsten - something she'd felt needed to be addressed eventually with how coldly she'd been received at the fort).

Ralsten finally nodded to her, smiling.  "Wherever you go, I will follow."  His smile faltered after a pause however.  "What if... What if your mother doesn't approve of your idea?  Or tries to stop you, or rebuild the court under her control?"

"...we'll deal with that if it comes to that, I guess."  She glanced around at the farmhouse -- she had to admit there was something appealing about forgetting about this nonsense and living a simple life here.  "What happens to this place when you're gone?"

"The guards come by every couple of days to check that I'm obeying the jarl.  I guess it'll fall to Lucia as well once they find I've deserted it...hopefully they'll care for the animals."

Ralsten penned his final goodbye to his daughter -- they would have to wait until the guards came by at least once so he could give them Lucia's letter.  Serana spent the time getting used to the ring on her finger and the thought that for the first time she'd gotten something she wanted AND had full control over what direction her life took; Ralsten hid her down in the cellar when the guards came by, closed inside the coffin, and hours after the guards had left they were slipping out of the farmhouse and into the night.

Ralsten left the gate open behind him and when the hound refused to stay put and kept following them Serana had convinced him to let the dog come with them.

"We can always find a new home for it along the way.  It'll probably be easier than trying to get it to stay there."

He'd begrudgingly agreed but days later when the dog wandered off on its own he'd seemed relieved.

It seemed very...natural, and comfortable, to be back on the road with him and while she wasn't looking forward to the Soul Cairn or confronting her mother again...she had a lot of things now that she'd never had before, and holding that thought close brought her a lot of comfort and helped dispel the stomach-churning anxiety she felt each time she thought about what they planned to do.  No matter what happened, whether they succeeded in their crazy, half-planned endeavor or not...they were free, they had one another, and they would survive even if they couldn't save anyone else.  And if they could convince her mother then she knew the rest would be ridiculously easy in comparison.

When they finally reached the castle and the portal to the Soul Cairn lay open at their feet, she took a deep breath and looked to him.

"Any sudden second thoughts?"

He chuckled and smiled at her fondly.  "My trust is in your hands, as ever.  I'm right beside you."