"Is she still in there?" Morgan said as she approached Babette and Serana, who were standing outside a battered looking door.
Babette nodded, her tiny hands clutching a pair of blood bottles. Morgan sighed and took the proffered bottles and nodded to Serana, who briefly nodded before opening the door. Morgan ducked the inkwell that came hurtling through the air a second later and moved quickly inside, the door closing gently behind her.
As expected, Brelyna was in the furthest corner of the room.
Or what is left of it, Morgan mused as she glanced at the destruction around her. Not one bed or set of drawers was in one piece, and there were shards of shattered pottery lying all over the floor near each of the four walls.
"Leave me alone..." Brelyna muttered, her orange irises a little dulled.
"Nope. Come here and sit down," Morgan said as she sat down on the sturdiest wrecked bed closest to her and patting the mattress beside her.
She hid a smile as Brelyna did as asked a few seconds later, and Morgan passed a blood potion to her without saying a word. Morgan waited as the heartbroken vampire drained the contents within before speaking again.
"Stop beating yourself up, Brelyna. I know what you are telling yourself. You keep thinking 'what if'...that way of thinking never ends well."
"He died because..."
"He chose to protect the College," Morgan cut in gently. "He died protecting so many who could not. And now he is in Sovngarde, awaiting his final trial."
"But...you said that the giant you fought there was the hardest you had ever endured."
"Tsun doesn't look for those that thinks they will win every battle."
Morgan took Brelyna's hands in hers.
"He looks for those with courage. And Onmund had more of that than what I did. I met him after walking through Alduin's Soul Snare mist, scared out of my mind and thinking that because I had the Dragon's blood, I was bound to gain access."
Brelyna blinked and Morgan smiled.
"I never once told anyone I was invincible. I have technically died twice now but I was always brought back. Odahviing even mentioned that 'my time was not even close'. I always wonder on those words."
Morgan sighed.
"Onmund was the bravest man I have ever known. The bravest woman is the one who gave her own mortality for me....and there is no way I can possibly repay you for that."
Brelyna made to speak, but Morgan placed a finger on her lips.
"But I will try and do so anyway."
Brelyna's lips quivered before she broke down entirely, waves of grief shaking the young vampires body as she clung onto the woman who she always believed could never be stopped or intimidated. But Morgan's words stuck.
Scared out of my mind. But I will try and do so anyway.
Brelyna inhaled, catching the scent of nightshade on Morgan's body, followed by the spicy tang of sulphur. The tears continued to fall, but already she could feel that everything would work out in the end. She just hoped that Morgan in particular would be there in one piece, for she had lost everything else close to her.
"Sorry about the mess," she muttered weakly.
Morgan's amused chuckle helped her more than she would ever be able to say.
Serana smiled as she looped an arm around Brelyna's waist, Morgan walking a few steps ahead of them. Serana could sense that whatever Morgan had told the youngest vampire had channeled her grief into determination. She also noted that Brelyna's gaze hardly wavered, her eyes always locked onto Morgan.
"Remind me what we are doing again."
Serana smirked.
"There's an army perched right outside Riften," Morgan said from ahead of them, her hand continually hovering over the hilt of her blade. "Before Rikke marches on Windhelm, I want to know who they are and why they travelled here.
Serana nodded to Brelyna.
"Who do you think it is?"
Morgan sighed and stopped, looking at the floor.
"It could be the Thalmor governor. That bitch was young for an altmer, but she is as cold as an ice block. It could even be....an old friend."
Morgan glared at the ground now, old memories resurfacing after so many years of having buried them. She was grateful when two hands slipped into hers, and she gave both women a strained smile.
"Let's get there as fast as possible," she said, before whistling sharply.
When Shadowmere erupted out of the darkest patch of earth close by, Morgan felt a little more at ease. She laughed as the mysterious horse chewed on a strand of her hair and nuzzled her face.
Be calm, mistress. All will be well.
Morgan blinked and rolled her eyes at her own stupidity.
Of course she knows how you feel, the Void connects us.
She smiled and gestured for her companions to seat themselves, grinning at Brelyna.
"Shadowmere can carry us all with ease."
Brelyna's look of disbelief set Morgan into a small laughing fit, and she agilely leapt onto the saddle, running her hands along the muscular neck of the Dark Brotherhood mount.
"Let's get going."
Both Serana and Brelyna moved to obey, and the moment they were seated, Shadowmere sprinted into the darkness, her steps silent as the Void.
Maven Black-Briar rolled her eyes and shooed the servant away with an impatient sweep of her hand. She hated these public events with a passion. She glanced over at available Law-Giver, the current Jarl of Riften, and fought down the urge to contact the Dark Brotherhood.
If only I could get away with it these days.
She had seen the reports. Several people had been found dead over the last few months, and while she couldn't prove it, she suspected that Olfrid Battle-Born had been one such casualty. Her information from the Thieves Guild had also slowed to a mere trickle, the disappearance of Mercer an added headache to worry about.
Then there was the matter of the Dragonborn.
That woman had more lives than what any mortal should ever have. Maven hated her yet she knew that Morgan Aurelius was going to be an important factor in deciding Skyrim's future. Maven had no doubt that the Stormcloaks would lose the war now that they had been pushed back to Eastmarch.
Which brings me to our guests.
The ruler of Bruma had decided to bring her army with her and had crossed the border. And it seemed that the Thalmor rulers in Cyrodiil had no issue with these trespassers. Indeed, they even had a Thalmor emissary with them, a young altmer who had been the governor of Bruma for over forty years.
The countess of Bruma was a pretty thing, yet after speaking a few words to her, Maven could see that this young woman was not to be underestimated. Her ice blue eyes were always alert, and Maven had been impressed that she had a Thalmor emissary in her pocket....or her bed.
Maven glanced to her 'husband' and sneered slightly. The insufferable weed of a man was stupid and had the air of a complete twit. And when she noted how the countess barely looked at her other half and always sought the eyes of the emissary, Maven nodded at her observation.
A political marriage, nothing more.
"Enjoying the occasion, I see."
Maven schooled her face into a neutral expression and turned to face the Thalmor emissary, who had a cold smile of her own.
"Of course. I hope the people aren't giving you any grief. Skyrim has become fractured of late."
"No issues have arisen," Sulandril replied, her eyes never shifting away from Maven. " I was hoping you could tell me more about this "Dragonborn". That moniker has reached all over Tamriel."
"Oh, I know about her. Little bitch."
Sulandril never blinked once.
"Her name never reached my desk. Only her title. And the odd thing is, none seem to know her by her name. Every inquiry has always involved referring her to as this 'Dragonborn'. Interesting, no?"
Maven held her composure. It was only a matter of time before she found out, but she was in no mood to give out free information. She was spared from future interrogation as the great doors opened and closed, three people dressed in black cloaks hiding their identities.
One figure removed their hood, and Maven smirked as the unforgettable face of the vampiric Dragonborn was exposed, shouts of shock echoing through the hall. Maven took a goblet of wine from a platter nearby and moved closer. Maybe this evening was going to be more eventful than she had thought.
"Morgan."
Morgan never thought she would see her old childhood friend again, yet here she was, her eyes still as angry as they had been since their friendship had fallen apart all those years ago. She frowned when she spotted the slightly surprised Sulandril standing there and deliberately turned her gaze to the Jarl of Riften.
"Jarl Law-Giver."
"It's not possible," Countess Selene muttered as she moved closer, shrugging off the two guards that tried to stop her. "Your eyes..."
"A vampire, yes," Morgan replied with a bemused smirk. "I see your eyesight still works."
"But...it's a curse."
Morgan rolled her eyes.
"It took some getting used to....just like finding out you are Dragonborn and destined to fight a demigod ahead of his due time to fulfil his own destiny. Before you say anything, don't bother. I like it and seeing as the Stormcloaks killed the only man in Skyrim who knew about the cure, it's a moot point asking me to cure myself."
Selene blinked.
"What happened to you? You changed."
"Killing Stormcloaks, dragons and of course the Thalmor does change a person," Morgan replied, looking at Sulandril now.
"Still a young girl," Sulandril smirked. "I see you missed our little talks. You were such a polite one...a shame."
"Fuck you," Morgan said, ignoring the gasps around her and shifting her attention back to Selene.
"Why are you here," Selene asked.
"I came to find out why an army arrived in Skyrim and what their intentions were. From the looks of it, I would say that..."
"You weren't invited. Leave."
Morgan glanced at Selene's husband and shook her head.
"Neither were you."
"Morgan. Please. Just let us talk."
"TALK?!" Morgan boomed, her composure having finally lost control. Her thu'um shook the building, and yells echoed around her, yet she snarled at her long lost friend.
"You come here with the bastards that made so many lives a living hell and then ask me to listen?! I feel like calling a fucking dragon here and see what he thinks I should do!"
"Poor girl. Why would a dragon, a mighty beast of its own right, listen to a little vampire girl such as yourself?"
There was a moment of silence, where Sulandril and Morgan held the others gaze, when Morgan grinned, her exposed fangs visible for all to see.
"OH...DAH VIING!"
A snort of derision broke the silence that followed, a few chuckles from the crowd around them emanating a short time after. Even Selene smiled, although her face was strained and wary.
"I don't think it worked."
Then came a deafening roar from outside.
Morgan smiled now and gestured for everyone to follow her, Serana holding her hand gently as they walked.
As expected, Odahviing was sitting on a building top and he bowed his head as Morgan approached him. Morgan ran her hand along his massive jaw before turning to meet the huge crowd that were assembled there.
"I think you will find that I did call my fellow dovah here," Morgan grinned.
Sulandril opened her mouth yet no sound came out. Selene was holding onto a guards shoulder plate as the dragon's gaze turned to her and only let go when it snorted a plume of smoke to the face of Morgan, who narrowed her eyes playfully.
"YOL!"
As Odahviing laughed while his scales smouldered with dragon fire, Sulandril managed to find her tongue.
"No...it is not possible! We would have known! All the blood spells we did...."
"Was like trying to put out a fire using nothing but your own breath," Serana remarked as she lowered her hood, ignoring the renewed shocked expressions of the people around them. "Her blood was derived from Akatosh himself. No mortal could detect her true power until it was her time to discover her destiny."
"Another vampire. I am guessing you were the one who corrupted her?" Selene growled.
Morgan grabbed Serana around the waist and kissed her before glaring at Selene.
"She was the best thing that has happened to me in my miserable life. Say what you like about me, but insult my blood kin and I will tear your fucking lungs out."
Serana squeezed her waist and Morgan could sense that Serana was telling her to be very careful.
"She turned me by accident. I began to feel comfortable with my new lifestyle and many people in Skyrim seem to care little about my eyes or my new diet. Love me or hate me, I am not leaving Skyrim."
Selene shook her head.
"Morgan, please come home. I can guarantee your safety."
"That's why you came," Brelyna spoke up, her face still shrouded. "You came to take her back to the place where she nearly died from beatings, starvation and disease...all at the expense of the Thalmor."
"And who might you be?" Sulandril enquired.
Brelyna removed her hood and narrowed her eyes, not bothering to hide her distaste at the nobles who had started squeaking at the sight of a third vampire in their midst.
"I gave my blood to save her life. And I saw everything. I saw her upbringing and the 'chats' you had. I saw how her best friend abandoned her for the little shit standing behind you, all for 'protection' from the Thalmor. You even try and take MY dearest friend and I will EAT you!" Brelyna yelled, Morgan's arm coiling around her thin waist to prevent her from going closer.
Morgan shook her head.
"I am not leaving. Go home, Selene. You live your life as you see fit, and I shall do the same. Skyrim will be ruled by a new leader soon enough and hopefully, I will get some peace and quiet."
"We are staying until the Stormcloak menace is dealt with," Selene spoke up. " we have similar goals, Morgan."
Morgan sighed.
"Unless you free yourself from the Thalmor bitch next to you, I am not taking your help."
"Dear girl, even one pet dragon cannot save you from our rightful rule."
Odahviing growled.
"Pet? I am no-ones pet! I follow our rightful thuri! She has greater strength than any of your so called 'great rulers'. She rules and those that have any sense in our way will do the same. Begone, little elf. Wasting breath or fire on you would be a waste of my time."
The deafening silence that followed was only broken when a few children burst out laughing nearby, and Morgan smiled at the dozen little faces that were peaking over the railings close by, all their attention on the massive red dragon that was seated on the roof of what must be Riften's orphanage.
Odahviing roared into the sky, a huge jet of flame spewing from his mouth, and then he took to the skies' nodding to Morgan once before heading into the nearby mountains and the thick mist that swallowed his huge body a second later. Morgan glanced to meet Jarl Laila Law-Giver's shocked expression.
"The Dragonborn is to be left alone while she is here. Riften follows...follows Elisif the Fair."
Sulandril stiffened and drew her dagger. She managed to get within two steps of the Jarl when she was suddenly slammed into a wall, Morgan holding her aloft with a telekinetic spell that was far beyond what she could perceive.
"That means the Thalmor aren't welcome," Morgan explained as she came closer, squeezing her glowing hand and causing the Thalmor emissary to moan in pain.
"But...when they find out..." Selene's husband muttered, looking at his wife for support.
Selene slapped her husband and swallowed hard before moving forwards and plunging her own dagger into Sulandril's exposed throat, not moving slightly when she was plunged into a torrent of arterial blood. She dropped her dagger at the same time that Morgan released the now dead elf, and she nodded to Morgan once before heading inside.
That was the cue for every person to scatter, and within a minute, only Morgan and her two companions were standing outside Mistveil Keep. Morgan chuckled as Serana and Brelyna said the same thing at the exact same time.
"Did that really happen?"
Morgan laughed harder and began to walk towards the orphanage. For while most gazes had been directed on Odahviing when he had taken to the skies, Morgan had seen the elderly woman throw the children against the door of the orphanage before getting them inside.
She intended to have a chat with this woman.
A very friendly chat.
Morgan gently opened the orphanage door and stepped inside. Serana and Brelyna were currently in the tavern, where a surprisingly jolly Brynjolf had volunteered to take care of the two of them until Morgan returned. He had also discreetly asked for them to join him in the Cistern when they had the time.
But first...
Morgan felt her blood magic churn when she heard the unmistakable sound of a slap coming from the left. But when she heard a young girl's mocking laugh follow, Morgan stopped and leaned against the wall.
"You hit like a skeever!"
Another slap.
"Sorry! I should have said: you hit like a skeever, Grelod the Bitch!"
Another slap, and then came the whimper that jolted Morgan into moving. She walked around the corner and cleared her throat, not looking at the young girl huddled at the foot of a weak looking bed. She also ignored the young woman standing nearby, tears filling her eyes. All her attention was on the old woman who was stalking closer to her.
"The orphanage is closed! Get out!"
"The whole point of an orphanage is to give children a chance of life. Not beating it out of them," Morgan replied.
"Are you deaf? Having eyes like that means you must be blind as well!" Grelod snapped.
"My eyes are good enough for me to see that I am trying to peacefully talk with a human crossed with a horker, the horker being the looker," Morgan retorted.
The girl huddled at her bed sniggered loudly enough that only Morgan could hear her. Grelod moved closer to Morgan and jabbed at her with a bony finger.
"I said get out. Before I call the guards."
"Who would listen to the Dragonborn explain that the orphanage bitch in charge was mistreating her charges and was stupid enough to stop me from asking about adopting one if these adorable children," Morgan said with a smirk, her gaze moving over every set of eyes in the room before moving back to Grelod.
"Hah! You aren't her. She's said to be a hero. Or an arse kisser. All I see is some drugged up whore who can't seem to understand my words!"
"It's hard to understand someone who has no teeth left and who has a heart that is beating three times faster than what is normal," Morgan replied.
Morgan stepped back and dodged the slap and vanished into the Void. She merely watched as Grelod turned to the children and ordered them into their beds, slapping the young woman in the corner before going into her own room, slamming the doors shut. Morgan glanced at the children before following the young woman into her room...
Constance blinked back tears and looked down at her shaking hands. All these years, she had never seen so many horrific displays of dealing with children. But Grelod had a legal contract that prevented her from speaking out. If she desired, Grelod could kick her out and Constance would have nothing.
But she would not leave these children with the monster. So she stayed, biting her lips until they bled whenever Grelod decided to use more barbaric means to control the children. But one child in particular seemed to be getting more brazen every day. No matter how many times Grelod beat her down, Runa would get back up and become more disruptive than ever.
She sighed. And then tried to scream as a hand gently pressed over her mouth. But she calmed down when the cool feminine voice echoed in her mind, telling her to relax. She complied, taking the hand and kissing it, her eyes becoming glossy. She smiled as a pair of arms scooped her up, one arm on her back, the other under her legs.
Constance sighed happily as she was laid down, wrapping her legs around the one she trusted. Then she fell asleep, a final promise echoing in her mind.
Fear not for the children. I will take care of everything and you will know peace at last.
Morgan smirked as she untangled the pair of legs around her waist and covered her with the bed sheets. Serana always warned her that sometimes, mortals would react to blood magic in strange ways, and Constance was no different.
She moved silently through the building and stopped when she saw the set of eyes that watched her through a tiny gap under the ripped covers of one bed. She put her finger to her lips as she drew her dagger and walked through the double doors that would lead her to her new target.
Grelod never managed a sound as Morgan's dagger slashed the throat, her free hand pressed tightly over the old woman's mouth. She smiled as Grelod's soul departed to the Void, her mortal shell shuddering once before going still.
Only Runa saw the woman in black leave. She smiled again when she felt the woman ruffle her hair briefly and closed her eyes, already thinking about what tomorrow night bring.
One death and so many possibilities open. Who would believe that the old bitch was outsmarted, out-insulted and killed so easily?
And in that moment, another child of Sithis was born.
Aventus was right. He said someone would kill her. I didn't think that the Dragonborn would be the one to save us all. I want to join her.
Runa smiled as sleep took her, and didn't stir as a cold wind brushed through her body a second later. She was already in a strange land of greys and darkness, filled with rivers of blood. And in the centre stood a stunning woman in a black dress, her red eyes full of love.
"Mother," Runa breathed in her sleep.
And thirty feet away, in a dark corner of one of Riften's many alleyways, Morgan smiled as the Night Mother explained why the girl was so important.
"I wonder what Serana and my mother would say when I explain I have an adopted child and would one day join the Brotherhood?" Morgan grinned, the darkness swallowing her form as she became one with the night once more.