Hi, new fic. Yay.

This is something of a side-project, I will still be working more on my F/Z RoD and this'll be more like; "Update whenever I care to."

The main characters are Serana and The Dragonborn - yes it is a pairing. My Dragonborn (Despair, yes I know - dont review me on how dumb the name is, he's the protagonist to a novel I'm writing and I model most videogame characters I play after him if customization is an option). I will try to stay in-lore but will take creative liberties now and again. Of course, my combat and such will be MUCH more vivid than what you'd ever find in-game. I will use Dragon-Language where appropriate and because I'm lazy wont say what some of the words mean - you can find them here - wiki/Dragon_Language

I hope you enjoy, please review, etc...tell me what you think.

I do not own The Elder Scrolls or anything affiliated with it, only my own ideas.

Isran had told him time and time again; vampires were not to be trusted.

The old Dawnguard leader would probably hang his innards on a crossbow bolt if he knew were Despair was now, or who he was with.

He had pushed several thoughts to the back of his mind since meeting Serana in Dimhollow. Together they had made the distance from the crypt all the way to Solitude Docks; where the pair had gotten – for the extra fee – a boat to Icewater Jetty. One of those thoughts kept popping up in his mind, namely every time he looked at her.

She's beautiful.

How amusing. The cynical Arch-Mage of Winterhold, pragmatic Thieves Guild Master and sarcastic Harbinger of Whiteruns Companions still fell victim to the "love at first sight" gag. Even Astrid would laugh at him, if she was still alive.

Or perhaps Serana just was that beautiful.

Despair had to ignore that though. He had met plenty of pretty women in Skyrim, one more wasn't going to be a problem to him. What was going to be the problem was the Elder Scroll on her back.

That's why we're here. That's why I followed her. He justified to himself, it wasn't lies, but it wasn't the full truth.

'Despair.'

Her voice took his attention and he turned his head towards her.

'Before we go in I just wanted to say thanks. I doubt most strangers would have helped me out like you did.' She said.

'Don't mention it. It would have been rude of me to have left you there, not to mention you have an Elder Scroll.'

She let herself smile a little, though she had doubts about his motives – if it was only the Scroll he was after or not.

Slowly the pair walked up the bridge that led to the great black castle, Serana's home. Castle Volkihar was impressive, even compared to what the Dragonborn had seen in his time.

Snow whipped at his long black coattails and they flapped in the wind. The Arch-Mage robes were stylish, functional and practical for the cold climate of Skyrim. He was so grateful for its fur-lining and heavy design, yet light enough to let its wearer duck and dodge spells and steel without too much strain.

His hair was dark and messy – covered by his hood in the howling wind. The boots he wore were of Dragonscale make – infused with the very scales of the flying monsters that he had slain. On his left hand he wore the same style of armour as his boots – altered to go all the way up to the shoulder – while on his right he wore nothing but a glove.

In his time in Skyrim he had encountered and proceeded to butcher eight Dragon Priests – Lich's loyal to the Dragon Cult long after the deaths of their masters. He had his choice of which one he would proudly wear as a trophy. Eventually he had decided on Morokei – proudly wearing the mask that he had looted from the corpse of its namesake.

As they got to the door the shape of the castle shielded them a bit from the weather. Despair reached out to open the doors, only stopping as Serana spoke up.

'Hey, I know that you saved me, but I think you should just let me do the talking.' Serana said just as Despair had his hand to the door of the keep.

'Sure, I just wonder what kind of reception we'll get.' He added.

The door was heavy, but Despair managed to push it – using a bit of Magicka in the process to fuel his muscles. Instantly a warm light from inside greeted them as they left the snow and wind behind. As they entered, both of them pulled their hoods down and walked in, only to be met by a haughty High Elf.

'What's this? Who are yo…wait. Serana, is that truly you?' The man grew in surprise as he spoke.

'Yes it's me. Would you kindly let my father know?' She replied.

'Yes, of course my lady.' The Elf bowed and turned, entering a large chamber full of tables and other people.

Vampires. Despair thought. He knew where he was heading and he'd killed more than his fair share of the night-children, but there were far more than he'd expected here. Instantly he felt several pairs of orange-tinted lenses fix on him, then Serana.

'Don't worry.' She whispered to him, taking him by slight surprise. 'As long as you're with me, they won't attack you.'

'My lord, Serana has returned.' The Elf in front of them announced to the court. Every single vampire turned their heads and stared at her and at Despair beside her.

'Well, my daughter.' A voice rang out from the centre of the room, powerful and deep. 'Do you have my Elder Scroll?'

Despair was surprised he hadn't noticed the man before. Bearded, wearing robes more regal than the rest and standing at the centre of the room, Volkihar's Lord greeted his daughter, or at least his Scroll strapped to her back.

'Yes father, I have it.' Her tone was annoyed. 'Really after all this time, the first thing you ask me is about your Scroll.'

'But of course my dear, you look well enough without me having to ask. And who is this stranger you have brought into our hall?' He turned towards Despair, dark eyes meeting the pair behind a mask.

'He is the one who saved me from the tomb you locked me into, father.'

'I see, so tell me – what is your name, savoir.' The vampire began to circle around Despair, like some kind of predatory beast.

If only he was aware of just whom the true prey is. The intimidation tactic was lost on Despair, he'd seen much more, from more impressive foes.

'Shouldn't the host offer his first?' Despair replied snarkily.

'Very well. I am Harkon, Lord of this court and castle.'

'My name is Despair. It's a pleasure to meet you.' There was an edge of sarcasm to his voice, but Despair did sincerely enjoy meeting new people – even if at some point their heads ended up at his feet.

'I see. Tell me Despair, do you know what we are?'

'Don't insult me like that, you're all vampires.' Low whispers ran around the court like mice, but none loud enough to be heard.

'Well done. However, we are not like the vampires you know. We are the strongest breed, blessed by the Lord of Domination; Molag Bal himself. I assure you, we are more than typical vampires.'

I'm going to have to have a word with him in Markarth when I get the chance. And to think, I went all the way as to fixing his alter.

'Interesting. I take it you don't affiliate yourselves with the vampires that run wild in Skyrim.'

Harkon grinned. 'Witness the power of true vampires!'

Around him, Despair felt a malevolent energy grow. He could feel Serana grow uneasy too – watching Harkon suddenly double over and pant.

His skin turned black, veins bulging out of his flesh like worms and his face twisting. The bones in his limbs and body cracked – sounding like they'd shattered – quickly reforming into longer versions of themselves. His teeth – all of them – elongated and sharpened with his jaws changing thought a series of self-breaking and regeneration to accommodate them. From his back, two lumps writhed to break free – suddenly bursting out in a spray of blood into two, clawed wings.

Despair shielded himself with his arm, and when he looked back he saw Harkon before him in all his glory. The monster floated before him, hideous and radiating power.

'This…is the Vampire Lord.' He announced proudly.

Around the trio, the court of vampires moved uneasily. Despair could sense it, Serana could sense it and he was almost certain that Harkon took pleasure in it.

'Most impressive.' Despair said after a long time.

'Yes father, you've proved your point – we're better than everyone, just as you always said.' Serana said, sounding unamused.

'Serana hold your tongue! I wish to say something to our guest.' He shot back, escalating the tone unnecessarily.

'Now, Despair. I will give you a choice; you can leave – alive – as payment for rescuing my daughter, but only this once. Or you can have my power – the power of a true vampire. You will walk as a lion among sheep.'

Despair considered his options. He couldn't go back and tell Isran what he'd seen – especially that the vampires had an Elder Scroll. On the other hand, he didn't like Harkon very much – and he could feel that the vampire reciprocated that.

Then he looked to Serana, reminding himself why he was here in the first place.

'Choose Despair, I will only offer this gift to you once.' Harkon chided.

Despair frowned behind the visage of Morokei. If you insist.

'I accept your gift.'

Harkon smiled and set his floating form down and walked over towards Despair and clutched his shoulders.

'Good choice.' He whispered as he leant down to bite.

Despair felt himself go dizzy as he felt his energy drained from him. Slowly he lost consciousness – the world turning into black as he staggered and fell to the floor. The last things he heard were the sounds of the court, a second dull thud and Serana's voice calling out to him.

Grand things usually start with a simply decision.

When he woke up he was in Darkness. Pure Darkness, the kind that wasn't ever aware of the concept of "light".

Everything ached; his bones, his muscles and in particular – a small spot on his neck. He groaned and opened his eyes, feeling himself lying on Darkness' floor.

'Drem Yol Lok, Dovahkiin.'

He snapped his neck up and saw that within the Darkness were two glowing eyes – cruel, dominating red. As his eyes adjusted to the black abyss he saw what was looking at him. Behind the eyes was a large body, adorned with spikes and scales that emanated power and pride. They were set deep in the large black head of the beast, its snout rose with its breath.

Within Darkness a great black dragon – with a hide so black it separated itself from the abyss with its pallor – Alduin the World Eater stirred, waiting for the Dragonborn to do so.

'Alduin. It's never a pleasure of mine to see you.' The low voice of the Dragonborn responded.

Slowly the figure rose up – his hands pounding into the metaphysical floor as he pushed himself up, and to his feet. His eye line never dropped from the dragon's gaze and when he finally stood he saw that Alduin's snout was bowed to him.

In response to the smaller beings words, the old dragon laughed – a low rumble coming from his mouth.

When the Despair; the Dragonborn – had slain Alduin in Sovngarde, all those months ago – he had expected to be done with the menace. However, to the surprise of all that had been present Alduin's soul was absorbed by his killer. The Dragonborn hadn't felt any different – usually being able to notice the power he gained from other dragons. He dismissed it and gave his farewells to the Nordic Heroes of Old, asking Tsun to return him to Mundus.

It was on that ethereal journey that Despair learned what had actually happened. Inside of him – he hadn't only absorbed Alduin's soul, he had absorbed the entirety of the airborne apocalypse. Since then Despair had lived his life and adventured all the while with Alduin living within his soul. The dragon had lost none of his arrogance or pride, and seemed to a developed a sarcastic, snarky personality during his time inside the Dragonborn's inner realm. A begrudging respect had been garnered from The World Eater though, and his deep philosophies on all things meant that Despair occasionally talked to him. Though they didn't regularly converse – and they hadn't since done Despair had killed Ulfric Stormcloak – leader of the Nord-fueled rebellion and inciter of the Civil War that had raged across Skyrim.

'What happened?' He asked the dragon.

'You don't remember? You were in Sos Naak Golz, you let the Sos Konahriik, Blood Lord, bite you.'

'Ah, yes. Harkon.' Despair frowned at the memory, resisting the temptation to touch the bite mark – it still stung.

Despair stretched himself out, and then looked back at Akatosh's prideful firstborn.

'What do you think of my decision, Alduin?' He addressed the black mass.

'Geh, I too would have chosen power. But the Sos – blood within you…Vokul Vokun. ' He spoke slowly and from a deep pit.

'Tch. What sould I have expected from the Dov Paar?' Despair replied sarcastically.

'Kroniid. Do not grow Pahlok, in Suleyk, your power. Muz, men, are not all "sheep" as Sos Konahrik claims.'

'Don't worry, I'm not going to fall into the same trap you did. Besides – it'd be no fun if I was absorbed and stuck with you inside someone else's soul for eternity.' His wit was not lost on Alduin, just disregarded entirely.

'Anyway, I'm going back now. I have things to do in Mundus.'

'Farewell Dovahkiin. Tiid Unslaad.'

His eyes snapped open – though it went unseen as they were hidden beneath his mask.

Why the hell wouldn't they take it off if I fell unconscious?

He raised his hand to his face and grabbed Morokei's visage. Slowly pulling it off – Despair felt the cold air of Castle Volkihar touch his face, though it didn't bother him like cold usually did. Setting the mask down he rubbed his forehead, still dull from all that time asleep – however long it was.

His skin was naturally pale – turning chalk white as with most vampires. He had dark eyebrows and hair and his now glowing eyes were deep set in his face. Relatively high cheek bones and a defined jawline were home on Despair's face. Feeling dry, he licked his lips, finding his canines sharper and more pronounced as his tongue ran over them.

'So that's what you look like under that mask.' A feminine voice said from his right.

Turning, he saw Serana leaning against the wall – smiling gently at him.

'I have to say, you're fairly attractive under it.' Another smile and Despair chuckled along with that comment.

'You're not bad looking yourself, Serana.' He replied, giving a toothy grin – his new vampire assets showing.

She laughed at his remark and stood up, slowly walking over to where he was lying down. She picked up the mask and held it to her face, observing its features. Despair leaned back – suddenly sitting back up when he discovered that he wasn't in a bed, he was in a coffin.

'Who put me in here?' He asked.

'Some of the other vampires – you'll meet them soon enough. I've been here all during your little nap.'

'Heh, how long was I out?'

'Six days.'

He looked at her from the corner of his eye, his lip twitching. 'You call that a nap?'

'You're forgetting just how long I spent in that crypt. Even the lifespan of a normal man is short to me.'

'Right.' He breathed out, finding it strangely refreshing to do so – despite the fact that he was now a vampire. 'Why'd you stay?'

'Hm?'

'Stay here, with me?' He reiterated.

'Well between you and me, you're the only one I trust in this castle.'

Despair perked up. 'Really? I'm honoured.' He added playfully.

'Consider it – my father sees me for the first time in several ages and the first thing he asks about is his Elder Scroll. Adding to that, I imagine that most members of his court have spent the last few centuries licking his boot or trying to bite it off.'

'Fair enough then.' Despair placed his hands on the edge of his coffin and pulled himself out.

Now standing, Despair realized that he was still wearing his armour and Arch-Mage robes. It was good – dragon-make armour was expensive, it wouldn't have surprised him if they had stolen and pawned it, though to whom would be an interesting question. Not to mention the high value of the rest of his gear.

'I doubt you know – but you aren't the only one who was unconscious.' Serana said, observing his form.

'What?'

'My father fell down right after you.'

'Harkon? But he bit me, if anything he should have been stronger.' Despair stepped out of the coffin and faced Serana full on.

'True. And the bite did take – you are a vampire now – but no one knows what happened. He's still asleep and hasn't moved at all.'

'That's…strange.' Despair chose his words carefully.

'Perhaps it is Sos Dovahkiin that cripples Sos Konahriik.' Alduin suggested from inside Despair's soul.

Not a bad theory. Still, we'll keep it to ourselves. I doubt we'd survive long if they believed it's my fault that Harkon is in a coma.

As he communicated mentally his face tightened, frowning. Serana looked at him oddly; 'What are you doing?'

Despair looked up and locked eyes with her. 'What do you mean?'

'Dovahkiin, do not forget that Sos Raan isnt aware of Dovahkiin Sos Dov.' Alduin reminded his host.

Dont call her an animal, Wyrm! Despair snapped back. Alduin went quiet at his master's behest.

'Anyway, it'd be good to meet the court now that you're awake.' Serana interrupted the mental exchange.

'…Yeah, you're right.' Despair looked at Serana, and then recalled that she still had his mask. 'Serana…can I have that back?'

She looked at it and smiled. 'What's the matter – you're afraid of letting the others see your face?'

'I like it on.' He reached for it, only for her to pull it away and step back from him.

'I like it off.'

'Serana…' He groaned.

'Fine, you can have it back if you tell me how you got it – it's radiating with power.'

He frowned, but conceded. 'Alright – is there anywhere to sit?'

She pointed over to a table in the corner of the room and both of them sat down. Serana set the mask down but kept her hand on it.

'When I was a student at Winterhold-'

'The Mages' College.' She confirmed.

'Yes. There was an incident involving a High Elf and a powerful artifact belonging to the wizard Magnus.' As he talked he held her attention, looking her in the eye.

'To resolve it, I went into Labyrinthian and retrieved another artifact to counteract it – Magnus' staff. There, I fought a powerful mage named Morokei – one of the Dragon Cult's Priests.'

'Dragon Priest!? I thought they died long ago, along with their Masters.' Serana said.

'They did. Morokei and the others are – or were – all Lich's. As for the dragons, they did die – and now they're back.'

'What!?' She almost shouted out.

'Yeah. Serana, just how old are you?' Despair asked.

'I told you, there wasn't the Empire of Cyrodil last I was awake.'

'That's not much to go on...' He deadpanned.

For a while they sat in silence, until he broke it by asking her a question.

'So, I'm a vampire now?'

'Yeah, feel any different?' She replied.

'Hm. Standing in the shadows seems more appealing than before, in fairness this isn't the first time I've been infected with Vampirism, but it's obvious that this strain is entirely different.'

Her eyes widened with the information. 'You were a vampire before?'

'Indeed, and a Werewolf after that – I'll tell you another time, I'm more interested in finding out how this strain is different.' He said, sensing that she was about to ask him to elaborate.

Serana sighed. 'Look, other than the fact that you are to normal vampires what the dragons were in my time – you aren't that much different. That and…well you saw what my father did in the court.'

Despair recalled the memory of the powerful Vampire Lord. 'Yes, though I suspect it isn't something you can easily pick up, is it?'

Serana became tight-lipped, looking at him oddly – as if she was contemplating a decision she had yet to make. Eventually she stood up from the table, sliding Morokei over to him and walking towards the door.

'Come on, we should have left for the court already.'

As she walked to the door – beckoning him to come – he watched her body as it moved, engrossed, until she turned. Hastily he got up and put the mask back on – looking at her as they stood by the door.

'Let's go.'

Harkon's Court, Castle Volkihar.

Together they entered the court, and almost immediately the pair was swarmed by vampires. Questions were raised about who Despair was, what had happened to Lord Harkon and all manner of subjects.

Both Serana and Despair were very annoyed.

Luckily she used her status as Harkon's daughter to send them away, and one by one they left until only one was left.

'Serana.' He said with a smile.

'Garan. How long as it been?' She replied, edging just a little closer to Despair, but talked with an air of authority.

'Too long my lady, the castle has sorely missed your presence.'

'Enough to lock me in an underground tomb?' She asked with approaching venom in her voice.

Garan stammered a little then saw Despair standing next to her – using him to divert the conversation.

'Ah and here is our youngest member. Tell me boy, what is your name?'

Despair almost punched him when Garan called him a "boy". Nonetheless he managed to respond confidently. 'Didn't you hear it when Harkon addressed me?'

'Lord Harkon. And no, I didn't quite catch it. Anyway – if you need anything come straight to me. You won't get anything done if you talk to Vingalmo or Orthjolf over there.' He indicated to the tall Nord and High Elf vampires who resided within the courtroom.

'They're too busy squabbling over who will succeed Lord Harkon.'

'And you aren't interested?' Despair asked.

'I am above the petty squabbles here. I have lived far too long to be bothered with them.' With that, he began to make his leave.

'Lady Serana, …'

'Despair.' Said Despair, filling in the gap and letting the vampire learn his name.

With those words Garan Marethi left the pair alone. They turned to each other – somewhat unsure of what to do now but neither wanted to deal with any of the other court members.

'Why don't you show me around the castle Serana?' Despair suggested.

'There isn't much to see, most of it seems worn down since I was last here.' She said matter-of-factly, though there seemed to be a hint of sadness in her words as though it was a shame that the castle had fallen into ruin.

'Very well then, why don't I show you what's happened in Skyrim since you were last awake? If I recall – quite a bit has changed.' He suggested again.

'Alright then. Show me everything.'

'As you wish, my lady.' He joked as he made his way to the door, earning him a punch on the arm from the seductive vampire.

Together they walked out of the castle and were immediately met by the frozen air of the north.

'Hey, the snowstorm's ended.' Despair said, looking out at the clear sea and ice floes.

'Yeah…it's been so long since I've seen this place; I forgot how pretty it can be.' Serana commented in response.

'It is pretty. I made the right choice; Dayspring Canyon is nowhere near as beautiful as this.' Despair's eyes calmly looked over the scenery, eventually finding himself looking at Serana, who noticed him and pouted.

'What?' She asked.

'Nothing, just admiring the beautiful scenery.'

She laughed, attempting to hide the light blush on her face. Anyone else would have been confused; Despair had a way with words – high speech skill in all likelihood – but coming from that mask would have been unnerving, Serana herself was a little creeped out by Morokei – she could only imagine what it must have been like to fight the creature who wore that face originally – Lich's were terrifying enough on their own.

Still…I know what he looks like under it. She thought slyly. That was more than enough to balance it.

Without warning Despair reached up to pull the mask off – letting his pale face feel the cold air of Volkihar's real estate. Even without looking he could tell that a light blush had risen on Serana's face. He put the mask away into the folds of his robes and continued to admire the scenery.

'Why'd you take it off, you made a fuss about having it on?' Serana asked.

'Well now that I'm technically dead I doubt that the cold will be a problem anymore. Besides…' He turned to her. 'There's no one around who I want to hide my face from.' He said with a smile.

In response Serana laughed and in mock-flattery said; 'I'm honoured, O great savior of mine.'

They bantered for a bit more, slowly returning to the silence.

Eventually, after both of them spending a bit of time watching the calm waves and the reflective blue ice – Serana spoke up.

'We should really get down to the mainland while the weathers this nice – being caught in a storm isn't fun in that small wooden boat.' She said.

'Right.' The Dragonborn begin to walk down to the edge of the bridge, stopping to wait for Serana when he reached the boat. 'My lady.' He bowed as she approached the small craft, earning a sigh and well-executed eye-roll.

They got in and set off, Despair using his Magicka reserves to power the boat rather than manually – he was a mage first, that's what he was best at. It was an hour of silence until they reached Skyrim's shores, the moment they landed Serana had jumped out in eagerness to catch up on her homeland, the one she hadn't seen for ages.

Despair docked the boat and chuckled lightly as she looked around, never straying too far from her companion. Eventually she turned around.

'Come on; show me this Skyrim that you know.' She said with a smile.

Despair walked up and together they walked further inland.

'Even with the dragons attacking…it still has beauty.' She said as she admired the mountains and snow.

'I would disagree, for every lovely tree there's some bandit or godforsaken draugr lurking around the corner.' Despair deadpanned.

'But that's part of the beauty.'

Their conversation was cut short by the haughty voice of a High Elf, clad in Elven Armour. 'Halt! Who goes there?' He raised his hand as he neared the two.

Despair leaned over and whispered in Serana's ear. 'I forgot to mention, there's occupation of Thalmor in a fort nearby to Icewater Jetty.'

'Thalmor?' She whispered back.

'Long story short, the High Elves got powerful; really powerful. Let me do the talking.' He straightened up just as the Elf got to them.

'Who are you two and what are you doing here?' He demanded in a voice that made the arrogant Vingalmo seem tolerable to Serana.

Despair smiled warmly at the Thalmor, though Serana could sense the ominous change of his tone. 'We're just adventurers, wondering the wilderness of Skyrim.'

'Really, and what business would a mere adventurer have in wearing the Arch-mage's Robes from that damnable college in Winterhold?' The Elf asked.

Despair didn't lose his composure – though his mind jumped, after all it wasn't often that he was recognized on his attire alone. Usually his enemies would be char-broiled before they came to that conclusion.

He raised his hand and snapped his fingers – a spark of electricity jumping between them. Before the Thalmor could react he was blasted away by a brilliant bolt of lightning – leaving a singing stain on the ground where he was standing before.

The body blasted away into the trees and hit something with a sickening crack, probably the fort he was guarding.

Immediately voices were heard shouting in the distance, Despair casually lowering his arm and "sheathing" the spell.

'Well.' Serana said as she turned to him. 'If that's how you deal with things that confront you – you aren't going to get very far.'

Despair smiled back somewhat sarcastically, as if he didn't know that – but he still retained his gentleness with the Volkihar's princess. 'You haven't seen how I deal with things yet, not even a little bit. Anyway, I think now might be a good time for you to teach me how to use that Vampire Lord power.'

Serana's face turned from snarky wit into a smile, like one a commander gives before sending elite soldiers to lay waste to a band of untrained militia.

'I almost feel sorry for them. I'll have your back, if you've been a Werewolf before then the changing part should come naturally.'

Despair looked forward eagerly; putting Morokei back on in the face of the coming skirmish. Crimson lights flashed in his eyes through the holes of the mask and created an eerie effect under the Arch-mage Robes' hood.

'Nothing easier.'