16th of Last Seed, 4E 201

It was a strange feeling for Serana to be standing once again on the shores of Isle Volkihar. After the battle with Harkon, the pure blooded vampire never once considered the possibility of returning, content to leave the castle and the memories it held, both pleasant and painful, to the past. And yet, Valerica required her help, a request that Serana was simply in no position to refuse. As she slowly stepped onto the bridge leading to the main gate, she noticed the man, or rather, the thrall who had delivered the message from her mother back in Ivarstead, still built like a mountain and still ragged from head to toe.

The man said nothing, only opting to bow as Serana approached. She could only wonder what had become of the old gate keeper whom Harkon had once been in control of. Had the old man perished in the battle the previous year? Had he been commanded to hide out somewhere safe, only to be freed of her father's control upon his demise? There was no way of knowing, sadly. As Serana stood motionless in front of the main gate, the memories of her past came flooding into her mind. She remembered the very first time she had laid eyes upon this place...

"Mother, look!"

Valerica seemed delighted to turn her attention away from her husband, who simply couldn't stop marveling at the castle that was to be their new home. Instead, the woman knelt down to young Serana's side, who had taken command over nearly a dozen small stones found on the island's shores, making them float through the air, dance with one another in dazzlingly intricate patterns. For a moment, Valerica said nothing, and Serana began to worry that distracting her mother was about to lead to yet another lecture.

Thankfully, Valerica began to smile genuinely, giving her daughter a pat on the shoulder. "Well, well," she said. "You've made quite a lot of progress the last few weeks."

"You really think so?" Serana asked, beaming.

"I do," Valerica nodded. "You're already more skilled than I was at your age. At this rate, you'll be ready to take the trials of Jhunal before you reach your thirteenth name day."

Serana began to glow with joy. The acceptance of her mother was truly the only thing the young girl had sought after in her short life. Ever since Serana had shown an aptitude for magic, Valerica had taken it upon herself to oversee her daughter's progress very closely. She had come to see her daughter's success as her own, even if her dear husband couldn't be bothered to take an interest to anything that didn't benefit him directly. After Serana and Valerica's moment of bonding over the young girl's progress, the both of them looked on to see that Harkon hadn't even bothered to take a glance back, too enthralled by the view of his new castle.

Valerica sighed, taking young Serana by the hand and leading her to their patriarch's side. Harkon sighed with a great deal of satisfaction. "Is it not beautiful, my wife?"

"It's certainly impressive, dear," the woman reluctantly agreed with him. "Although I'm still confused as to why you saw fit to move us out to an island. We're so removed from the rest of the province..."

"Ah, but that's precisely the point," Harkon said. "I've eyed this castle since I was a boy. I remember going hunting with my cousins along the northern shores, seeing its breathtaking image from across the bay. I always thought, whoever lives there must be quite important." He turned to face his wife, grinning slyly. "And at last, it went up for sale. At last, my family is a symbol of power and wealth." He chuckled. "Not to mention, with my fortune ever growing, my coin going into the pockets of our workers, feeding their children, keeping roofs over their heads and clothes on their backs... Well," he stepped forward towards the castle, before taking a glance back at the mainland. "It certainly won't hurt my bid for the High King's throne."

Valerica let go of Serana's hand, stepping directly in front of her husband, furious. Serana sensed where this was going, as it seemed all her parents did anymore was scream at one another, and the girl quickly put her hands over her ears, desperate to block it out.

"Are you joking?!" Valerica demanded. "You moved your daughter and your pregnant wife," she pointed at her stomach. "All the way across the province to some secluded island as some mad power move? For a throne that isn't even vacant?"

"Not yet it isn't," Harkon said, clearly unfazed by his wife's outburst.

"Husband," Valerica sighed. "I implore you, if King Halskar finds out you're plotting against him-"

"Halskar is a decrepit old fool who barely remembers the names of his subjects," Harkon cut her off. "All the jarls know his time in this world is borrowed as it is." He looked past his wife, back to the great looming shadow of their castle. "When the old man finally croaks, that will be my chance. I will finally be able to provide my family with the life they deserve."

"Hmph," his wife scoffed. "Is it truly for our sake that you seek power? Or just your own?"

This enraged Harkon, the man's eyes began to widen in anger. He grabbed Valerica by the scruff of her collar. She made a small attempt to free herself, but her husband's grip was much to strong. "How dare you!" He growled at her. "Everything I do, everything I have sacrificed," he poked a finger into her chest. "Is for you!" He pointed to Serana, now curled up into a ball on the ground. "For her!" He then jabbed his finger into Valerica's stomach. "And for him!"

"Stop it!" Serana found herself unable to keep from crying out any longer. "Please stop fighting!"

Harkon immediately released his wife, although he made no effort to comfort his child. Valerica instead rushed to Serana's side, cradling her daughter's head into her breast. "Shhh," the woman whispered into her child's ear. "It's alright, my daughter." She glared at Harkon, who showed no remorse, no pity, no empathy. Such emotions were only displays of weakness, as he often said. But even Harkon finally relented as the sounds of his daughter softly weeping caught his ears.

"There there, my girl," he said, his tone awkward, clearly unaccustomed to showing any sort of affection to his family. "It's over now. Everything is alright." Such a short moment was Harkon's momentary display of compassion, yet it ended as quickly as it began. He turned away from his family, once again marveling at the sight of their castle. "Now then," he said, once again composed. "The workers will have our belongings moved in by the end of the day, and tomorrow night we will be hosting a banquet. I trust the both of you will not embarrass me like last time?"

Valerica only glared a hole through her husband, but ultimately gave in to his controlling, possessive nature. This was the man she had married, the father of her children. And so she had to make it work. "Of course," she said. "My love..."

Serana sighed. If she had only known then how it would all have turned out. But then, even if such were the case, she had only been a child, barely into her twelfth year. What on Nirn could she have done to change the course of her life? And even if there were some way to change it all, would it have been worth it? To have never known Valkyrie's love and wake up to her face each morn, as temporary as it was? To finally know the freedom of being her own person, no longer stuck under the thumb and shadow of her parents?

The vampire sighed, opening the door, and stepping inside her old home for the first time in over a year. Much to her surprise, the castle seemed relatively empty of her kind, the only souls inhabiting the place seeming to be her mother's new thralls, or what little cattle the elder vampire had been able to scrounge up for herself. Serana stepped through the entry hall, down the stairs at the end, and into the main dining hall where even more of her past called out into her memory. It was here where her father's descent into madness had truly begun, in a time where the tables had been graced by actual food instead of human remains, and the floor was not eternally stained by blood.

It had been so long ago, centuries now, even, and yet Serana remembered the night of the banquet quite freshly. One of many moments that stuck in her mind despite her efforts to forget, to block them out.

"Found you!"

Serana scowled at the young boy, a fellow Nord, who clumsily pulled away the drapery she had been hiding behind. How on Nirn were all these children so much better than her at hide and seek? Accepting defeat, the young girl let out a great sigh, and began to follow him back to the main hall, where the other children were gathered, alongside the dozens of adults scattered throughout the castle. There was one thing that was pleasant about these banquets, at least. Harkon's guests often brought their own children, many of them around Serana's age.

"Found our princess," the boy said snidely, a smirk on his face, one that earned him a punch to the arm from Serana. Oh, how she despised that nickname.

"Shut your mouth, Varl," Serana growled at him, a viciousness in her tone that made the boy step a few feet away, which garnered a laugh from the other children.

"Look at that," another girl said, this one a Breton. "Serana has fangs. I told you all there was more to her than the fancy gown and title."

"You're only sayin' that 'cause you got a crush on her, Elvie!" A Redguard boy said, causing both girls in question to immediately blush furiously, and the rest of the children to burst out in laughter. "I bet you were hopin' you'd find her instead a' Varl, maybe get behind those curtains with 'er for a while." This earned the boy a decisive slap from Elvie, followed by even more of the children's laughter. "Ow!" The boy said, nursing his cheek. "What was that for?"

"For being a simpleton," the girl named Elvie snarked at him. "So, who wants to go another round?"

"We've been playing hide and seek for almost an hour!" Varl began to whine. "I hate these feasts! Never anything fun to do."

"Well, we're agreed on that much," Serana said, crossing her arms. One of the other children opened their mouth to respond, but the entire room suddenly fell silent, the main doors flying open, and the sound of trumpets filled the air with their obnoxious, unwelcoming bite. The High King was announcing his presence. Which meant Serana's fun was over, her parents would now require her to be at their side for the rest of the night so that they could continue putting on a show for their guests.

King Halskar marched into the room as if he owned the place, wobbling slightly to suggest he had already begun his own merriment well before arriving on the island. Dressed in easily the finest robes in the room, even more prestigious quality than her parents, Serana noted, a great red beard with hints of gray that hung down over his stomach. And of course, the crown that lay upon his head, allegedly made of the bones and teeth of dragons, but Serana knew better. Dragons were simply an old tale that parents told their children. Well, that other parents told their children.

There was also a boy just behind Halskar. His hair also red, and his tunic, embroidered with the symbol of Solitude, and the way he puffed out his chest all suggested him to be the king's son. Strange, Serana thought to herself. She had no idea that Halskar actually had children.

No sooner had the king entered the hall, did he immediately head for the feast table, grabbing a sizeable bottle of mead and guzzling it down as if it were water. It was at this point the other guests returned to their own business, their own conversations. As much as Serana wished she could be among them, now that King Halskar was here, it meant her father had come to fetch her not a moment later. She felt Harkon's hand gently come down onto her shoulder, and the two of them walked across the room to greet their king.

"Your majesty," Harkon said as they approached, bowing his head as only he could. "It is a privilege to welcome you into our new home." Serana said nothing, only giving a short curtsy as her parents had instructed.

"Is it now?" Halskar boomed, his mouth half full of mutton. "It's the strangest thing, Harkon. I don't believe I received an invitation to your little party."

"I-" Harkon stuttered. "I promise I sent one to the palace as per usual. Perhaps our courier may have gotten lost. Or killed by wolves. You know how it is, my lord."

"I do know," the king sneered, before looking down at Serana, in a manner that unnerved her in ways she wasn't quite comfortable with. "This your daughter? She was barely the size of my foot last time I saw her."

"Indeed," Harkon continued. It was clear that it was killing him having to suck up to his High King, but the nobleman managed to keep up the charade. "You know, Serana has recently shown herself to be something of a prodigy in the magical arts." Serana resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Of course, now her father took an interest.

"That so?" The king asked, more of her than of Harkon.

"Yes, your majesty," Serana nodded. "I'm hoping to begin the Trials of Jhunal soon."

Halskar laughed. "I see. Maybe you'll end up being a half decent court wizard once my boy becomes king." At the mention of this, Harkon gritted his teeth together, though quickly turned his head away, forcing a cough to try and hide it. "That reminds me, you've never met my son," the king continued. "Boy! Come here!"

Within a moment, the young red-haired Nord boy had joined them. "Yes, sir?" He asked of his father. Serana noticed that the young man's voice was oddly deep for a boy of his age. He couldn't have been more than a few years older than Serana herself. She also noted that up close, the prince was quite handsome. He must have gotten that from his mother, she decided.

"Harkon, Serana," Halskar threw an arm around his son's shoulder. "This is Sedric, my first born son, and future High King of Skyrim!"

Sedric bowed his head gracefully. "A pleasure to meet both of you. Thank you for your generous hospitality."

It seemed Harkon was about to reply to the boy, but was quickly cut off by his king once more. "Now, where's that wife of yours, Harkon?" He said, before downing another swig of mead. "These feasts of yours aren't complete without her."

"Valerica... isn't feeling well today, your majesty," Harkon said carefully. "She's currently with child. Our second one."

"Ah, such a shame," Halskar shook his head. "The sight of that woman always brightened the room." Out of the corner of her eye, Serana just barely noticed her father's jaw twitch. It was taking everything Harkon had not to throttle the king's bloated, drunken self in front of all who attended. She then noticed a look in Sedric's eyes as well, one that screamed get me out of here. For one, she eagerly shared the boy's desperation to escape their fathers' subtle but infuriating power game, and she also found herself rather curious about this boy, looking only a year or two older than herself, so she hatched a plan of escape for the both.

"It's Sedric, correct, my lord?" She asked him.

"It is, but you can leave off the my lord part," the boy answered with the slightest tinge of annoyance.

"Hogwash, that!" Halskar boomed. "You'd better get used to people calling you that if you're going to succeed me."

"Yes, father," Sedric sighed.

"If you'd like," Serana continued. "I can show you around the castle. I'd hate to be a poor host."

The boy seemingly picked up on what she was getting at. "That sounds excellent," he then turned to the king. "I'll be back in a bit, father."

The two wasted exactly no time getting as far away as possible from their fathers, despite not being able to leave the castle. It wasn't long before they found themselves in some lost corridor deep within the maze that was the castle. "So," Sedric said after the both of them were confident they weren't in earshot of anyone. "The king's son and the nobleman's daughter."

"Do you hate it as much as I do?" Serana asked.

"Hmph," the boy scoffed. "I don't have to work a day in my life, I have the best food, the best trainers, servants waiting on me hand and foot day in and day out," his voice was thick with sarcasm, earning both a pang of sympathy from Serana as well as a touch of admiration. "What else could I possibly want, right?"

"I feel your pain," she sighed. "My father wants me to be a proper little high society girl, but I'm just not."

"He has this image of what you should be in his head," Sedric guessed. "And that image is nothing like who you really are. I can relate."

"I'm sure."

The boy looked down at his tunic. "My father wants me to be his successor when he dies. Continue the tradition of being Skyrim's great warrior king," he sighed. "I mean, I'm alright with an axe, but I don't want to be king. I just want to enjoy being a kid while I still can."

Serana nodded her head in silent agreement. Although she had only just met this boy, she felt a sense of kinship with him, the both of them born into lives of great importance and responsibility, neither of which they had ever once asked for. They continued to talk for some time, exchanging mockery of their fathers' bloated egos, of the other nobles and Jarls who desperately licked their boots, hoping for even a shred of their favor. Serana found herself laughing harder and more genuinely than she had in some time. Eventually, however, Sedric suggested the both of them get back to the feast, and Serana reluctantly agreed.

No sooner had they returned to the main hall, everyone still feasting and merrymaking as if they had never left, Serana was ambushed by her father. This time was not like the others, however, for although the man showed his usual signs of irritation when she or her mother embarrassed him at one of his banquets, there was a faint hint of concern in his eyes as well.

"Serana," he said. "Have you seen your mother?"

"No," she answered honestly. "The last time I talked to her was this morning in her garden."

"Damn it," Harkon was on the verge of shouting, but quickly regained himself.

"Maybe she's in her drawing room?"

"Perhaps," he said, before grabbing his daughter by the wrist. "Come, Serana. I need you to help me look for her."

"Ow!" Serana wriggled, but was unable to break free of her father's grip. She turned her head backwards, to where Sedric stood motionless. "It was wonderful to meet you!" She called back to him. Whether the boy had bothered to answer her, Serana never found out, as Harkon was leading her away from the main hall as quickly as seemed possible. It was once Sedric was out of sight that she began to ponder. Where exactly had Valerica run off to? Even with her mother not feeling well, it wasn't like her to be practically absent from the feast.

Serana and Harkon trailed upwards, a flight of stairs just outside the main hall eventually leading them to Valerica's drawing room, where her mother practiced her alchemical and magical arts. It was only now that the young girl began to worry about her mother's well being. There was practically no trace of her anywhere in the castle, no sign that she'd been anywhere except her garden in the courtyard and here.

Harkon cautiously opened the door, he and his daughter both woefully unprepared for the sight that lay on the other side.

Valerica was curled up on the floor in a fetal position, stark naked, a pool of blood next to her. The woman didn't even bother to acknowledge her family entering the room, instead focusing only on gently caressing a minuscule figure in the center of the pool. Serana was nearly able to comprehend exactly what it was she was witnessing, until her mother at last looked up at them, tears in her eyes. Valerica had miscarried.

Serana's felt her stomach twist, and was unable to do anything but turn in the other direction as a swath of vomit erupted from her mouth. This was horrible. She had no idea what to say, to do. As the tears began to flow from her own eyes as well, she saw Harkon fall to his knees. In all her life, Serana had never seen her father show any sort of vulnerability, yet here he was, dragging his knees across the floor to gently hold the frail, pitiful wretch that would have been his son.

"Serana," he said softly, an uncharacteristic quiver in his voice. "Fetch me a clean sheet. Please..."

Though the events of the banquet were etched into Serana's mind, many others were a blur. She had a vague recollection of burying her unborn brother in the garden, but Divines only knew what had become of his makeshift grave in the centuries that followed, especially considering Harkon's rampage that followed Valerica whisking her and the Elder Scroll away. Perhaps that night had been the beginning of the end for her family, but there was no real way to know for sure.

Serana continued through the main hall, undisturbed by her mother's thralls walking about, obediently performing whatever duties the elder vampire had set them to. They had seemingly cleaned up the feast hall, as there was no trace of the wreckage she and Valkyrie had made while battling Harkon. As much as Serana wanted to believe that the past was over, that she was finally free of her father's influence, the memories of him, of her family, couldn't help but be prominent in her mind. As she reached the top of the stairs outside the main hall, she came upon her old bedchamber.

All of the vampire's better senses were screaming at her to leave it be, that Harkon was dead, and so was his grip over her, and yet Serana found herself unable to stop from entering the room. Much to her shock, it had been left completely untouched, even after she had left with the Elder Scroll a second time. Why on Nirn her father wouldn't have gone on yet another rampage, Serana simply had no idea. Although her curiosity was now satisfied, and she was preparing to leave the room behind once and for all, something caught her eye.

Next to her bed, even as a vampire Serana had insisted sleeping in a bed, something on her old nightstand glistened, even in the dim light of the castle. She recognized it instantly, picking the glimmering necklace off her night stand, its gold frame laden with precious jewels, a gift to her from none other than Sedric...

Serana stretched her back, letting out a groan. The beds at the College were decidedly less comfortable than the one she was used to at the castle. The requirement that she be awake and ready for class at the crack of dawn was also quite bothersome, but it was definitely worth it. She had only been a student at the College of Winterhold for a few months, but had already learned more about magic in that short time than the entire previous two decades of her life. For the first time in years, Serana had felt a sense of belonging, one she had almost never experienced living with her family.

Ever since the night of the banquet, Harkon had only become more distant and cold. Valerica still remained supportive of Serana's ambitions, but saw her more as a protege than a daughter. Day after day, she had been stuck in between her parent's constant wars with each other, so it had been nothing short of a blessing when she had not only completed the Trials of Jhunal, but had been accepted as an apprentice into the College of Winterhold. After all, she had just seen her twenty-second naming day. Surely it was time to strike out on her own?

"Nirn to Serana!"

She quickly looked over at Drelas, her bunkmate. He was a Dunmer, at least a few decades older than her, but still practically an infant by his race's standards. The Elf ran his hands through the scruff on his chin, leaning back against his desk as he waited for Serana to respond.

"What?" She asked.

"I said, do you still have my notes from Professor Auryen's last lecture?" He repeated. "I'm hearing rumors the old coot is going to surprise us all with a quiz tomorrow."

"Oh, right," Serana remembered, reaching into her newly acquired magic satchel. This thing was truly a life saver. Why she had never even heard of these before joining the College was beyond belief. "Here you are, thank you again for letting me borrow them."

"My pleasure," Drelas said with a grin. "It was the least I could do for you helping me with that..." he paused. "Problem."

"Don't mention it," Serana laughed. "Rumors can be nasty. I know that better than anyone."

"Speaking of rumors," the Elf said, before taking a peek out the doorway to make sure the both of them weren't being listened in on. "I heard something rather interesting about your family recently." Serana stood up from her bed, looking as though she was ready to shut him down for even mentioning whatever it was he had on his mind. "Whoa, easy," he put his hands up in defense. "I haven't said anything. I just wanted to ask you about it."

"So talk, said the Nord. Whatever this Elf had to say had better have been good.

"There's a nasty rumor going around that..." Drelas paused. "Well, that your parents have started dabbling in Daedra worship."

Serana's heart skipped a beat. This hadn't been the first time in recent weeks that someone had asked her about this particular subject. Despite her family's damnedest efforts to keep quiet, somehow there were whispers in courts throughout the province that the great and noble Volkihar family had forsaken the Eight Divines, turning their favor to the Daedric lords, beings shunned and disdained by civilized society. It was bad enough that her mother and father had begun worshiping not just any Daedric Prince, but the Lord of Domination Molag Bal himself. Yet Serana shuddered to think what would happen if people found out that she herself was a follower. Which was exactly why she needed to shut Drelas up now.

"I don't know where you heard this," Serana said, "But it would be in your best interest to forget about it."

The Elf threw up his hands. "Easy," he said. "I'm not judging you if that's the case. I'm a Dunmer, after all."

"Well, it's not true," she spat. "So I don't want to hear about it from you or anyone else."

Drelas had a look about him, as though he were going to ask exactly what had crawled up Serana's ass and died. The Mer never got the chance, as a knock at the door immediately claimed both their attention. An older woman entered the room, a Breton, who Serana recognized as Ambrielle Ervine, one of the College's most esteemed professors. Serana rarely saw Ervine around the campus, only ever when the old woman had business with the apprentices. In her case, it was almost always for the exact same reason.

"Miss Volkihar," Ervine said with a hint of annoyance. "You have a... visitor."

Almost immediately, Serana's face lit up with a smile. This only meant one of two things. Either Valerica had journeyed away from the castle to be rid of Harkon for a few days, or this was another kind of visit altogether. The latter was confirmed when, from behind Ervine, a tall, hooded man entered the room, the only part of his face visible was his unmistakable smirk. "Drelas," Serana said, not taking her eyes off the hooded man. "Take off for a bit, would you?"

"Oh, for the love of-" the Elf began to complain. "Every few weeks this joker comes by! Who is he?"

"Doesn't matter," the mysterious man said, tossing the Dunmer a pouch of coins. "Leave us, please." This gesture seemed to do the trick quite nicely, moments later Serana and the man were left quite alone, the door locked behind them. "Lady Serana," the man said as he removed his hood. "How fare your studies here at the College?"

"Knock it off, Sedric," Serana said playfully. "No need to act all flowery when there's no audience."

"Oh, come on," said the prince. "You know I can't resist getting under your skin. How have you been?"

"You know how it is," she sighed. "I enjoy it here. I'm learning more than I ever thought possible about magic, but..."

"But?"

"I feel bad about leaving," Serana explained. "Leaving my mother to deal with... him."

"Is your father really that bad?" Sedric asked. "I understand he's not the most... empathetic of men, but-"

"He never was," she said. "But after that night, the banquet, well... he never really got over it." She shook her head, now looking down at the floor. "He just became... very icy. He never had any patience for myself or my mother, acted like we were always in his way. Even before it all happened, he wasn't easy to be around, but now..."

"Sorry," the prince said. "I shouldn't have brought it up."

"It's alright," Serana replied, before suddenly drawing a smirk. She stood up from the bed and slowly walked up to Sedric, swaying her hips as she went. "But come on," she said as she reached him. "We both know you didn't come here to talk about our families."

Sedric only grinned mischievously in response, and Serana began to back away, still loosely holding on to one of the prince's wrists as she led him to her bed. "Actually, wait just a moment," he said just before the reached it.

Serana did as she was asked, suddenly very worried. "Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing," the prince said, a hint of red beginning to adorn his cheeks. "At least, I hope not. There was... something I wanted to talk to you about."

She groaned, the mood in the room suddenly becoming quite sour. "Sedric," she said lowly. "If this is about those ridiculous rumors,"

"No, nothing like that," he assured her. "You know I don't pay attention to court gossip." Sedric reached down into the satchel at his side, pulling out an ornate, beautifully crafted necklace, the likes of which Serana had never seen before. "I got you something."

She didn't know what to say. Her breath practically taken away, she gingerly took the necklace into her hands. Upon closer inspection, Serana took notice of one small detail that almost immediately gave her pause. "Sedric," she said nervously. "This is a betrothal necklace."

"I've been thinking," said the prince, nervously putting a hand at the back of his neck. "Father's sick. Very sick. And when he dies, it's almost a sure thing that the Moot will name me his successor."

"I thought you didn't want that," Serana said.

"I still don't," he shrugged. "Though I simply might not have a choice in the matter. But that's besides the point." He gently took Serana's hands into his own, taking in a deep breath. "I want to go public."

Serana's eyes grew wide. "Are you sure that's a good idea? When our fathers find out..."

"Damn our fathers," the prince said. "We've had to hide from them for years, all because of their desperate power game. I'm sick of it."

"But are you sure?" she asked once again. "I could be your court wizard..."

"And if that's what you want, I won't fight you," Sedric said. "But when the time comes, I also want you to be my queen. I love you, and I don't give a damn who knows it." There was a long silence that followed, and the prince took it upon himself to slowly drape the necklace around Serana's neck. "I don't need an answer right this second. But... wouldn't you at least think about it?"

A single tear began to fall from Serana's eye. "I don't need to," she said, before rushing forward to meet Sedric in a loving, passionate kiss.

A/N: Hi, I'm not dead, and neither is this story. In case some of you have been living under a rock, there's a plague spreading around the globe and things are a bit scary. I've also been laid off from my job and have spent most of my time trying to make sure I'm not homeless within the next few months. On top of that, rather than fan fiction, I've also been doing a lot of work on a wholly original novel that I'd like to get published at some point. Whether or not this work will see the light of day remains to be seen. But I just want to say thank you to everyone who still may be interested in this story for your patience. I will finish Valkyrie's story once and for all.

Until next time...