A/N: Chapter 10 has arrived! And this chapter marks a transition in the story, albeit perhaps a not very noticeable one. I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Edit: I guess I'll have to start and post warnings for chapters as we go further into this story, these warnings might include potentially offensive language, graphic/sensitive scenes/subject matter and sexual content.

Disclaimer: All original characters, locations and dialogue belong to Bethesda. The OCs are my own.

Warnings: Potentially offensive language.

Chapter 10

She hated the sun.

Granted, not as extremely or violently as her father but still, one should hate something that could unhinge them so completely, they would be mad not to. Travelling through Skyrim after, what she began to suspect, thousands of years of being locked away, seeing the land that was once young and wild look so much older and weathered, her resentment at the sun increased steadily – and so did her temper.

The feelings of wonder, curiosity at the changes in the land ancient even during her mortal life was tempered by a sweeping, dominating long-time partner and companion of hers. Serana was accustomed to its presence, she had learned to accept the light pangs in her throat that were one of the few constants in her life, her only close companion for the rest of eternity.

What she was experiencing was far worse than normal vampiric hunger however, it was far worse and far more consuming and far more brutal. She was starving, the hollowness within her ached with its insistence to seek out prey, and to hunt as she was meant to. And with every careful, if slightly jittery step she took, her powers and bloodlust were simmering in her veins, a heat icier than a winter's burn was pumping through her heart, washing over her body with each slow thump. Each heartbeat was forced and heavy and she could feel herself slipping into the tempting, welcoming arms of her nature, her purpose.

She was a pure blooded vampire, one that hungered for red blood for sustenance just as she used to hunger for cooked meals – but that was a long time ago, how long she was still uncertain. In response her body had adapted, the predatory mindset – the truest of her since she had changed, the most powerful, the most wonderful was seeking out control, rebellion and retaliating against its master.

Serana fought the desire, despite its comforting touch, assurance that stroked her mind like what a mother's caress should feel like. She kept it caged with all the strength she possessed, with a will of steel that had served her well in the company of vampires and their courts. All her strength went out to containing it, controlling herself – such a pure, elemental part of her and as result she felt - despite her mind's sharpness and the tune of her senses - exhausted.

Her senses were so receptive it hurt. The chirp of some distant bird nesting in the trees felt like a dagger to her eardrums and the smell of blood was a burst of sweetness after an eternity of tasting nothing but ash. A mouth-watering flavour that made her teeth ache, the sharp points so sensitive she had to keep mouth slightly parted lest they brush against each other too much and she might be driven mad by pain rather than hunger. Serana felt each of auras that cascaded across the mountains they travelled; her eyes could see the details in the stone road that moved around and below the elevated land they travelled.

She kept walking at a slow pace, and despite the fact that he was always in front of her she knew he was frustrated with their pace, she could smell it with each breath she took. It was in her power to carry him back to the castle, all her muscles seemed to ripple anxiously, crying out for further use but she locked all of it away, for by welcoming a part of power she by extension is faced with the rest of her nature – and its potentially unwelcome circumstances. Instead, she held down her powers, following the blurred image of the man-elf she chose as her guide while his heartbeat thudded in her head louder than the slowing one in her chest. She tried to, fought to lock all her physical reactions to the added, vampiric adrenaline that had caused her heart to keep beating, working so that she may successfully catch her prey – Serana worried that should she tap into her strength she might lose her mind to it as well.

She took care to keep her hands and her face away from the sun, her hood draped low over her head, her hands clasped underneath her battered cloak. Serana kept walking and it felt like centuries, it felt longer than her imprisonment, the dreadful thought almost succeeded in giving her skin chills.

A firm hand grasped her bicep, she jerked, startled to find she stood face to face with him, his eyes studied her fixedly, but all she could focus on was the throb of his pulse point, the blood she could hear there, she inhaled silently without thought, her fangs ached.

"Vampire." Yes, that was what she was. But she was so much more, could no one see that? That she was more than a vampire, a protégé and a means to an end? She swallowed, her fangs pressed against her bottom lip as she bit it. She was shaken roughly.

"Vampire!" Serana's eyes snapped up at his address and he seemed pleased that she had at last reacted, he was watching her carefully – his grey eyes were like the rest of his half-elf features, sharp but not without a certain – if usually hidden - gentleness, cool, collected but not completely emotionless. She could see concern, he was concerned – for his life or her sanity, and she was unsure which. He was right to be concerned either way. A vampire... She felt her lips twitch, yes that was all she was to mortals like him.

He frowned, and she watched the crinkle of his forehead with a certain fascination, that is until she saw a faint outline of a vein, that was far more interesting. He could talk with the Dragon's tongue, like the Dragon Priests had before they were entombed, how did he come upon this power? In the same mindset she idly wondered how his blood would taste –

And she was shaken again and her back collided roughly with something hard, he had pinned her against something, had she moved closer to him? She must have, for he smelt of fear now, though he did not look afraid, he could not lie to her senses. The fear was familiar to her senses and her bloodlust reared at it with a certain thrill. She felt delirious and dizzy, her blood thirst was too strong to be abated, bloodlust, she was starving, she needed blood, he could provide it and she would drink him dry and then... then...

Serana straightened with a deep gasping breath, and with a sudden urgency she shoved the man backwards, grasping onto the bark behind her for leverage as she struggled to keep standing and not launch herself after at the man-elf she needed to get home, she ducked her head and bit her lip – the resulting jolt of pain centred her while she waited. She waited until she registered the gilded scroll that burned her back with reminder, the heavy weight of duty settled back onto her chest, it laid atop and pushed down her hunger, reigned it in while her mind struggled to do the same.

Slowly, she looked up. The man had landed harshly and she realized with a momentary stab of remorse that she had not watched her strength, but that thought was quickly swept aside when she met his gaze, he was standing now, his hair ruffled and his armour had gathered leaves and dirt from the fall and he looked murderous his strange bow was aimed at her, she tensed.

"I'm sorry." Her voice was hoarse, and she knew it did not hide her hunger, but she hoped he could hear her honesty.

He remained silent as he watched her warily, but the venom in his glare seemed to drain slightly over the silence that stretched between them following her earnest apology, the sudden change of his expressions and his stance confusing her – how could one transfer from one emotion to the next so rapidly? Serana's eyes were drawn to the hand that rested on his bow, a calloused finger was tapping the metal trim there – her ready mind supplied that it meant he was thinking deeply, the man-elf was full of patterns; her mind had catalogued each one it saw.

A heavy sigh drew her attention back to his face, each of her deep breaths brought more confusing scents that he emitted beyond the tempting smell of blood, she could smell the hostility emitting from him, and so many other emotions that when blended together were incomprehensible, only serving to promise her a headache. He was not watching her any more, instead he seemed to be studying their surroundings – something he must have been doing before she - in her addled mind - advanced on him, she dimly realized. Her own attention drifted there for a moment, they were walking through a raised glades, jagged hills that cannot yet be classified as mountains and in the distance she could hear the rushing of a river, hooves and the flutters of wings and soft thud against the ground told her of the wildlife that hid from them, but was there nonetheless.

He was looking at the sky now, then his gaze lowered abruptly and locked onto her own – she had an odd desire to look away for fear he saw her watch him, but dismissed the thought and its silliness.

With his cool expression still in place and the bow in his hands he approached her, she watched him carefully and her face hardened as she eyed the weapon in his hand. Her mind flashed to the dagger that should be on her person and then remembered that he had taken it from her.

"You would break your promise?" She snarled,

He looked at her coolly, "You would be a fool to believe otherwise." her anger flared hot, for reasons that flashed too quickly for even her to fully comprehend

She straightened defensively with the beginnings of a snarl, her eyes darting to lock onto the approaching vampire hunter. He stopped at her aggressive response, he frowned quizzically. Her eyes darted to the weapon and back to him and he followed her eyes, those grey eyes brightened slightly with revelation and he slowly – if grudgingly, lowered his bow, it was pointed at the ground.

"Sit." He said softly, at that moment she had no desire to follow his instruction but her legs seemed ready to give up from under her, she slid down the tree trunk to rest at its roots, her head rested back against it tiredly.

Serana watched warily as he knelt before her, watching as he laid his crossbow at his side, his hands slowly peeled apart her clasped hands, holding them by her clothed wrists rather than naked skin, and struggled not to clench them under his intense scrutiny, he was staring at the faint red marks that had begun to reappear. "Vampires are more susceptible to sunlight the longer they go without blood." She said quietly, and she almost cringed visibly at the tiredness in her voice, she did not know why she felt the need to explain, giving a vampire hunter a glimpse of insight at her weakness but really, she suspected that she was beyond the point of rational thinking.

He looked up briefly, their eyes met. His were intense grey, almost blue as they studied her, his inspection managed to make her forget about her bloodlust for that moment, forcing all thought from her mind as they burned into her.

"We'll stay here for the night." He said, his voice had fallen to barely above a quiet murmur but she could hear him as if he had yelled. She tiredly brought her attention up to the sky above them; it still held the sun in its cradle.

"It is barely evening, and we still have far to go. Don't tell me you wish to delay simply for the pleasure of my company." Despite her jittery exhaustion, she smirked, but it fell quickly as she lost the strength to keep smiling. Her hunger was returning full strength. On his part, he did not comment, merely looked at her one last time with a cryptic expression and after a moment of hesitation that she barely caught in her addled state stood, taking his bow in the process and slinging it over his back.

The next hour Serana spent switching from staring at the ground beneath the tree that gave her shade and refuge from the evening sun, consumed with effort as she pushed back her violent hunger and watching the vampire hunter as he set up camp, it seemed like he was unconcerned with attracting unwanted attention, she seriously doubted Skyrim became a peaceful place while she was locked away, not with people like her father still alive. If he was alive, her mind supplied helpfully and she felt certain numbness wash over her at the thought, she tiredly forced it to the back of her mind.

She flinched inwardly when he built a fire in the middle of their camp, watching with distaste as he conjured the flame and it leaped from the palm of his hand, leaning back against the tree when it radiated its orange glow and illuminated the surrounding area as the sun finally began its descent, vampires despised magicked flames – the foe of their existence, the trigger to their weakness.

When the sun was just a shadow over the horizon, she was too far gone in her musings to appreciate the relief of moonlight, her fangs had cut into her lip but she ignored the blood that gathered and dried there, she had not moved a muscle since they arrived.

Her ears perked up at the sound of footsteps, but her eyes, which had fallen shut at some point, remained closed, she inhaled slightly and the diluted scent of the arcane greeted her, it was his scent. Her mind automatically calculated his approach; he should be only a meter or so away, not moving but his breathing steady – not aggressive, not angry and not fearful. She inhaled again and felt her lips twitch; he was fearful but skilful enough at hiding it from most. Her shoulders loosened from their somewhat tense state as she saw him to be no threat, her mind went back to its struggling circuits and her breaths were even as she zoned back in to herself to reign over her vampiric instincts.

Given the circumstances, it was bound to be difficult to manage.

Her concentration was disrupted once more as she heard him kneel before her, her eyes were still closed but she could detect the rising tempo of his blood when he neared. Serana expected him to speak, but when the silence stretched on she felt irritation flare, did he not know the temptation he provided for her, why did he not keep away?

She sighed suddenly, and by the shocked noise that came from him and the crunch of foliage as he shifted on his feet she had succeeded in startling him, her eyes opened to see him sitting in front of her, for a precious second he looked like a deer that had caught sight of a hunter.

"What do you want?"

The look disappeared as he watched her, seemingly what he has been doing while he thought she was unaware. At last, he spoke; "This...thirst your kind have," She raised an eyebrow at his careful tone, thirst? It was so much more. But she did not correct him, the hunger was difficult to describe to someone who has never experienced it, instead she merely waited.

When the silence stretched on she nodded briskly; Go on, ask it. "How long can you…continue? Without blood."

Serana felt her lips twitch up, it seemed to take so much out of him to ask her and briefly she wondered why he seemed so hesitant to discuss blood. He seemed to have no problem shedding it himself. Did he fear mere mention of it would send her into a blood lusting frenzy? She was a pure blood, but, he didn't know that, she frowned at the thought and dismissed it. But he brought up a question she had been concerned over the entire trip, her eyes closed again for a moment as she gathered herself, her head leant back to rest against the rough bark, "How much longer until we arrive?"

She could hear the light intake of breath he made as he considered her question, "Another day. We have moved slower than I had anticipated." She swallowed briefly; her throat had become dry.

"No." Serana at last said, and for once she sounded as tired as she felt, "I cannot last that long."

There was silence again, and though a part of her wished desperately to see his expression, to know what he was thinking another simply wished to focus in on itself to battle her own growing, unwanted impulses of her blood. In the end, she stayed as she was, her eyes trained on his hands, his hands looked calloused, his fingers scarred – he did not look like a scholar, nor a mage, with his bow and the armour and the blade that smelt of magick. He possessed no outward sign of arcane knowledge, or scholarly pursuits if one would look with eyes only - but the smell of arcane clung to him like an aura, and she dealt with it mutely even though it sought to repulsed her. When she considered that, it was easier to dismiss the insistent urging to taste his blood.

She heard him get up and move around their camp, there was rustling of shrubbery, she opened her eyes and looked up curiously and in time to see him throw branches of green leaves into the fire, the resulting grey smoke spiralled upward quickly. She could feel her brow lifting

"Are you trying to invite someone over?" He jerked his head to the side and in that brief moment his eyes met hers.

He studied her for a moment and she thought he would stop but instead he remained silence and snapped some more fresh branches and threw them into the hissing flames, she could feel her temper simmer but was interrupted by his terse reply, "We are not staying here."

With that he gestured for her to get up and she slowly did so, frowning slightly at his unreadable expression and the aura of grim determination he now emitted in waves as he practically stalked over to their unpacked belongings, grabbing only his sword and bow before turning and leaving their camp,

"Come with me." He said over his shoulder, his shoulders were a ridged line and without a glance to see if she would follow.

With a sigh of irritation that she exhaled only when he was out of mortal hearing range Serana followed after him cautiously. She perused his striding gait, his scent and his posture; her ears rang with his heartbeat, consciously pushing aside the lighter thuds of other, smaller creatures that surrounded them while she focused onto one particular life that might pose a threat to hers.

They did not walk for too long, ascending the rising hills to higher ground, her eyes could clearly make out the road; empty for now save for the tiny pricks of color that were the leaves, the insects. But her attention was not focused on them but at the man-elf that lead her even higher, until he stopped at a rocky ledge, a drop off that showed a village in the distance, whose entrance was marked by a looming, black bridge that held a dragon's head carved at its top.

What caught her eye however was the thin tendril of smoke rising from their camp, northwest of their vantage point, she realized quickly that it was the fire he made and as she had predicted, it would be seen clearly from miles around. They themselves were not that far away and could see their camp clearly. The man-elf did not look surprised when she glanced sideways at him; in fact when he noticed her watching him she could see a smirk curling at his lip as he slid farther into the ledge and away from the edge, motioning for her to do the same while his eyes stayed trained on the clearing below them.

Her mind caught up quickly with his plan and she smiled despite her surprise, a soft sound escaping her with the realization before she could stifle it, and from the corner of her eye she could see the pleased smirk curling at his lip in reaction to the slight praise she had injected into her tone, despite how quickly he recovered from it.

Before she could enjoy the brief moments of cordiality between them however, his neutral expression darkened quickly, and when she looked at him curiously he merely gestured towards the thin line of smoke billowing and said, "They should notice the smoke, and mostly bandits and soldiers would be brave enough to veer off the road to investigate and you…" She watched his eyes dim as he trailed off, his expression closed off completely then and his gaze snapped back to hers with a steel glint.

Serana understood what he did not say, and pleasant warmth washed over her despite his somber expression as she considered him quietly.

Then he broke their eye contact and turned his head briskly, he looked like he was about to say something before his eyes trained onto the land below them. Serana his change in demeanour immediately, the blood seemed to drain from his face and she, although alarmed did not need to turn to know the cause for his reaction, for she both smelled and heard it.

There were two shadows illuminated by the glowing flame that were now scouring their camp site, and she had to lean closer to properly study them, squinting past the darkness to see two men. They were clothed in pelts and bones. And in that moment, Serana had a brief sense of déjà vu, her fangs panged with remembrance and she felt the airy, consuming wave of her bloodhunger that cascaded through her, enveloping her. It thrummed within her veins with a simple message that reverberated in her soul.

She had hungered long enough.

It took her mere moments to descend the cliff's ledge from where she had studied them, the landscape blurred with all its details and the wind whipped past her as she jumped, though the night was mostly windless. When she landed her feet and hands cushioned her fall and her breath left her silently, her fingers lightly digging into the earth to keep stable on the leaning ground, they had not noticed her yet and nor will they, if she cloaked herself in the darkness of the night.

They were rummaging through the belongings that the man-elf had left purposefully, their garb of fur and bones looking even more savage in the light of the crackling fire and though she loathed approaching the fire she stalked towards them, with their blood pounding rhythmically in her ears as her guide.

Without her night vision and with the sun blissfully absent she could only see the two men because of the fire, their garb tickling her memories with their familiarity, her mind however, was more focused in that moment in satisfying the parch in her throat.

They were speaking quietly, but Serana paid attention to their words,

"..re'd you think they went?"

"I don't know; see if they have anything useful in there." The bag pointed at was the man-elf's, and it rested near her while she waited in the shadows, the other, who did not seem pleased being ordered about, snarling behind his deer-head helm left his companion from the other side of the fire, the mentioned companion was studying the tracks the vampire hunter had made.

A gruff sound snapped her attention back to the kneeling man,

"What's matter?"

"There were two people here, but only one set of tracks continue into the trees." Behind the dense shrubbery of the tree Serana stiffened slightly, in her previous, feral state she did not care to leave no footprints.

The deer-helmed tribesman was staring at his companion quizzically, then, beneath his grizzled beard he smirked, "Well th'n, there mus'be one still 'ere." He grasped his wood and bone axe, the sharpened bones peeking dangerously from the wood base and as he stood. Serana eyed the weapon warily, its sharp bone edges looking even more jagged in the firelight, then, knowing that she had to separate the two to have a chance to feed on live prey she shifted, and with a steady hand grasped a branch beside her and snapped it off the trunk, the echoing crack pierced the silence and roused the two tribesmen.

"What was that?"

The brute hefted his axe testily and with snort approached her spot, "Well I'll be damn'd, lessee…"

"Be careful, Bargo" The other warned him, and Serana watched with a growing smile as the brute waved away the warning and approached the shadows she was waiting in. She carefully stepped backwards a few steps and turned, stepping behind a thick tree trunk, deftly waiting at its roots. Her hand grazed another branch, this time the noise was quieter – his companion would not notice it.

But he would, and though Serana could not see him she could hear him, his feet crushing the grass and leaves that littered the ground as he trudged on the other side of the oak, his footsteps echoing with the snaps of twigs under his feet while his heartbeat accelerated slightly with each branch she grazed. She circled the tree at its roots quietly, her mouth parted with her next breath.

"Come out, come out wher'ever you are." Her hand clamped around his mouth as she stepped out behind him in a blur of black, cutting off the yell and jerking his head to the side – lightly, lest she break his neck - as he struggled in front of her and she, with her other hand ripped at the fur that covered his neck, biting the newly exposed skin. His sharp cry was muffled by her palm when her fangs punctured the skin easily and the blood flooded her tongue with a burst of iron flavor. She swallowed and the red, warmth flowed down her throat like soothing water. Idly she felt his hands as they grappled backwards, reaching for her and trying to pull her away but she merely wrapped her hand that had ripped the fur around its throat and it fastened down, he grew limp and the struggles seized. She drew the rest of the blood out of the wound with a final, big gulp when the heart stopped beating, the pulse that was erratic against her hand and tongue seizing its struggle.

When she swallowed, she let go of the body and it dropped to the floor with a thud, the warmth on her tongue soothed her parched throat.

"Bargo?!" Her ears picked up the other, his heartbeat as it stuttered when the man found her.

She turned quickly to find a jagged bone sword swinging at her, her hand clamped down on the wrist in a flash and she tightened her fingers on the limb, a scream pierced the air when the bones snapped under her fingers before her other hand darted to his mouth to cut off the sound, her lips twitched down in distaste as the sound rang in her ears, too loud.

Her leg swept in to unground the man's unsteady footing, and she dove after him when he tumbled onto his back, pinning his unbroken arm in place as she sought the erratic pulse in his neck despite his wheezes of protest. As soon as the blood hit the tip of her tongue she was hit with its peculiar flavor, it did not overwhelm her as much this time, and with every swallow she felt her strength receding, her blood hunger fading.

She registered heavy footsteps but she was concentrated on the blood in her mouth and its peculiar flavor. It tasted…bitter, tasted of mer – but not completely, there were sweeter undertones underneath the flavor of magicka. Like a semi rotten fruit and she was reminded of the reason why she disliked feeding on elves – the arcane magic in their blood that held the same sting as the sun – everything with Aetherius at its roots her body and the body of her kin rejected.

Her attention was wrenched away from the body as she picked up a several gasps; Serana's eyes snapped up from the lifeless feast before her, there were two of them in front of her, a younger man with messy hair who seemed conflicted with attacking or hightailing away, his hands were white and trembling around his jagged bow. Next to him was a woman, her hair cropped short at the sides and though she looked equally afraid she took a step towards Serana. She will have to go first.

They were similarly dressed, the same skins and bones, neither had the deer-horned helmet. Another pang of familiarity shot through her, it seems that the brief moments of consensual pause was enough to shake the mortals from their frozen stupor.

The woman moved and Serana lunged at her, steering clear of the sword that could pierce and maim her with one good blow. She batted away the arm that swung the sword aside with more force than she used for the others and quickly ducked to avoid another blow that came faster. While she was close to the woman she threw a hard jab into her gut and grabbed at the arm that held the sword when the stretch of string registered, her hand found the sensitive juncture of bones at her wrist and jerked it back, bringing the woman as barrier between herself and the bowman. Her breaths were leaving her in heaves now, but they were minor compared to the pained wheezes of the woman that dropped her sword and struggled when Serana drew her elbow around her neck in a tight grip, cutting off her oxygen while her other hand snaked to hold the side of her head, she did not have her dagger with her, but she could still break her neck.

The bowman, seeing his companion's position hesitated visibly, the arrow drawn and aimed at them both as Serana pinned him with her glare, and she pulled her lips back to flash her sharper teeth warningly, feeling the inkling of satisfaction when he flinched visibly.

A rustling and heavy footsteps drew her some of her attention from the man with the bow trained at her to another tribesman, except now garbed with the deer-head and two swords clasped expertly in his grasp. She tightened her arm around their companion's neck and the hands desperately biting into her elbow tightened. The man face transformed into a snarl when he saw the bodies littered on the ground, his face grew red "What did you do to them, you bitch?!"

Before Serana had a chance to respond an elbow was driven into her gut and she staggered back with a grunt of surprise, the woman that was once in headlock knelt down to grab at her fallen sword and thrust it at her with a yell, Serana barely had time to step sideways and keep the sword from swinging at her with a forearm to the pommel, batting it aside while she stepped back from the charging brute with a double wield. A twang pricked at her senses and she looked up fast enough to see a bolt land between the bowman's eye and an arrow flying loose in a wayward direction.

She saw a hand reach out towards the sword lying in front of her and slammed her foot, locking the sword on the arm in place, her knuckles meeting the cheekbone of the startled woman who tried to wrench free the sword.

She glanced up startled at a furious roar and the nearing thud of heavy steps, the man with the duel swords who was lunging at her, the jagged swords aimed for her torso in a whirlwind of bone before he crumpled into unceremonious heap some feet away from her, a crunch and mute grunt hinting that he must have fallen onto his swords.

Serana took a moment to check if he was dead, finding a familiar golden dagger embedded in his temple before she glanced down to the kneeling woman that radiated fear and contempt and panic in overwhelming measures. Blood coated the heaving body on the ground, dark and barely illuminated in the sparse light the fire far away provided but her eyes dispelled the dark.

The blood called to her, it always did. And like she always had, or almost always had – with a certain vampire hunter as one of the exceptions, she saw no point in denying it.

The blood coated her tongue as she drew it from the struggling body's neck. A clamoring, desperate pulse around her teeth drawing a cloud of contentment as she knelt and drank her fill when harsh footsteps thudded in front of her. She glanced up and faced the man-elf, swallowing her last drought of blood slowly, savoring its taste.

His posture was stiff and he had a white knuckled grasp on the dagger as he ripped it out of the fallen man's cranium. Doing the same to the bolt stuck between the bowman's eyes as Serana watched him quietly. When he straightened he looked back at her and their eyes met despite the dark, the silence only broken by the two heartbeats. She measured his carefully, watching him as he neared her and roughly took hold of the wheezing woman in her clutches, which she let go and rose when he shot her a dark look.

She raised her brow in question and his features hardened, with a snort of distaste he struck her dagger into the dying woman and ended her life with cool efficiency. She watched her dagger as it slipped in past bone and then leave again as he wiped it clean.

She was still crouching over the corpse, watching the vampire hunter carefully as he, without another look towards the dead bodies scattered at their feet, trudged back to the camp site lit by a fiery beacon she could hear crackling and spitting, as merry as ever.

She tilted her head to study the dead woman once more, taking hold of her chin and moving it while her eyes pierced past the darkness of the night. Sharp features, but smooth still – familiar. With a growing weight in her chest she rose, staring towards the angry shadow in the distance, amidst the trees making its tense retreat, her mind on the bodies at her feet and the taste still prevalent in her mouth, man-elf…

Without another glance down she followed him to their camp. She found him there, packing and banking the fire and soon they were shrouded in blissful darkness. The darkness however, did not do well to hide neither his heavy breathing, nor the ridged outline of his shoulders as he tersely ripped through their makeshift campsite.

"They were like you." The statement fell unbidden from her lips, and he stiffened visibly.

He did not turn to her, but his words rang clear and cool in the night air, "I was not like them." That hollow statement seemed to have so much more meaning than she comprehended.

"Did you know they would come?" Serana knew she overstepped the line when he turned towards her suddenly, and his eyes glared at her and pierced through the darkness.

"Is that what you think?" He hissed, and Serana saw his jaw clenching furiously and his pupils dilating – a reoccurring action when he was angry, one that she still could not explain. She took a step back pleadingly but he cut off the words forming on her tongue, "Is this what you think I am a kin-killer, oath-breaker?"

He sneered, "Of course who am I asking? A damned blood-sucker passing judgements." She stiffened, her fingers winding together into fists as she met the half-elf's glare with a furious one of her own. "You'd know all about passing judgements, won't you? That is all you've been doing since I saved your life."

Serana soaked in the disgruntled look that crossed his face at that and continued with a snort, "Are you going to deny it?"

He studied her coolly and she met his glare, her hackles raised as she dared him to argue. It seems her anger fuelled his own because in the next moment he stalked towards her and spoke clearly, each syllable coated with venom she could feel latching onto her, "I just saved yours." It was the closest he had ever been to her, and she felt despite herself, her skin prickle unpleasantly. "I saved your worthless life only seconds before, we're even. As painful as it was to aid a member of a cannibalistic cult."

Serana raised an eyebrow at that, her lip twitching briefly in disdain before she inched closer to hiss, "Is that what you think of us? Is that why you're so afraid to see what is in front of you, Dragon Priest?" His grey, glinting eyes shifted slightly at that, a shift in his countenance so quick she barely registered it, but it was there. "I am no Dragon Priest." She blinked at his quiet words and his curious, albeit irritated, expression, what was he, then?

As if sensing her next question he quickly cut in, "- But since you do love all your secrets so damn much, I'll keep my own. "And she swore she saw his lips quirk up in derision, and she felt, despite herself, her temper flare in response to the quiet aggression he still emitted in waves, "I promised I will help you find your answers." And Serana watched as he turned slightly away from her, but never fully. She pointed briskly at the dagger he was holding in his hands, her dagger. "Why do you act like I would you in the back the moment you turned away?"

His grey eyes met hers once more, "Why should I trust you?" He asked, sounding genuinely curious, cautious.

She felt lips twist up despite herself and when next she spoke, she struggled to soften her speech, although she could not contain the spark of derision that must have coated her words. "Why should you, indeed." It must have been centuries, maybe thousands of years and still the world seemed much the same, the distrust and loneliness that had been her way of life since her birth still haunted her – and perhaps it always will, was that why, then, she felt this strange pull to this stranger.

"I may not have much incentive for you to trust me, but I was born in a world where your word was your honor, has that changed?"

His lips twisted slightly, "No, I suppose the ideal hasn't changed."

"Then take my word that I won't harm you."

The vampire hunter regarded her quietly, and she innately picked up the distant howls that rung from somewhere below their camp. She knew he heard them too, his head tilting and the heavy lines deepening on his forehead, and for once she could clearly see the confliction in his body, the whisper of shadows under his eyes that was there underneath his angry façade. Perhaps he wants this to be over as much as she did, although, her war was far from over.

His hand released the hilt of his sword, and she watched as it moved instead to wrap around her wrist – the daring contact she had initiated in the heat of the moment and never truly forgotten about even when battling her own anger lest it end in spilt half-elf blood. Serana watched as his fingers, riddled with thin, pale scars, cautiously pried her hand away from his shoulder all the while he watched her cryptically and everything increased in intensity as she saw the moment for what it was, for him to make his choice.

He dropped her hand quickly, and his intense look was turned somewhere else, away from her in a flash. She felt a tenseness she had not realized she felt recede, and she relaxed somewhat.

"We should go." He said, and his voice had softened so slightly that she could barely hear the difference from his usual cool tone, and she took his change in demeanor for what it was, his leeway, as small as it was. Serana, despite the warning of her mind, dared to allow herself to feel the small glimmer of hope, though she acknowledged it with some derision that she would need his company. There was something that drew her to this stranger; potentially it was the small brief moments where she could see something in the way he spoke and in his actions – a certain aura that felt so familiar, something like solitude - isolation. And she was no stranger to isolation.

With that in mind, and with her chest stiff with confliction that has been brewing every moment that she drew closer to her home she met his gaze again when his eyes flicked back to her briefly as he slung his bag over his shoulder, along with his crossbow, but this time she was the one to break their mutual stare and turned away.

Despite the silence that had befallen them for the rest of their journey, Serana knew innately that she has reached some level of mutual tolerance between them, and that thought drew more warmth to her than it ought to have, settling right beside the heavy knot of dread that kept writhing above her barely beating heart.

A/N: I spent weeks editing and re-editing this chapter, finally I am somewhat pleased with it so I can continue on to Chapter 11, which will hopefully (although my estimates have proven to be off most of the time) be up in the next two weeks. I'll see y'all then.

Last of the Ancients: Your reviews make my heart warm and fuzzy, so I am glad I can in some way repay the sentiment with my chapters. And I appreciate your pun even more so since it is April Fools'. :)

Guest: Indeed vampires need to be cautious in Tamriel, feared by most and rightly so! But I like to think that vampires, in their own way perhaps, enjoy their solitary nature, creating close knit covens amongst themselves and keeping themselves separate from the problems of mortal men and mer.