I am Lena Wolf, Lena's life as it happens Options

[Lena Wolf]

Hearthfire, 3E437 - Survival

When Lena lifted the trapdoor to Fort Farragut and started descending the rope ladder, Lucien was bandaging his wounds. There had been an attack, the Black Hand had sent an assassin, a Silencer perhaps, judging by the skill. Lucien won, but only just. He managed to stop the bleeding, but he needed to heal before he could do anything else. His fort had been safe so far, he could always open the gates and let the Dark Guardians enter, should the need ever arise... He would need to be watchful.

Hearing the trapdoor open made him jump. His first impulse was to cloak in chameleon and see who it was without being seen. Soft boots and leather trousers soaked in dark blood, iron breastplate... it was Lena, badly wounded as well. She looked pale like a sheet, grey even, gaunt, her eyes feverish, unseeing... She inhaled sharply and immediately started climbing up - she smelled him, of course - she was leaving. Alas, her strength failed her and she fell.

"You must leave now!" She said, her voice sounding distant and hoarse like he never heard it before. Her face and arms were covered in blood, both red and black, her neck had several cuts with dark liquid oozing out... "Leave now! I cannot hold it for much longer..." She crawled away from the ladder to give him space, leaving a trail of blood on the floor. "Stay away for half a day at least, I shall be gone by then one way or the other..."

No, he could not allow that. He hoped he had enough blood to survive, he lay down on the bed and waited.

He watched her eyes glaze over, with every human expression gone. She pulled herself up, she could not stand. She could not see either, he thought, she bumped into things that were in the way, but her senses led her directly to him. He felt a sharp pain in his neck... "They say it only hurts the first time," he thought. "It hurts less than a dagger... and I should know." He closed his eyes and hoped he had enough blood to survive.

...

It only took a few minutes and Lena released her grip, falling to the floor. Lucien rubbed his neck, he only felt slightly light-headed. He got up and went about removing blood-soaked armour from Lena's unconscious body.

She had a lot of cuts and she was cold. He wasn't sure whether an ice bath would do any good for a vampire and decided against it. Instead, he cleaned her wounds and prepared a healing dressing, adding a touch of lavender and motherwort, to sleep and remember nothing. He moved her to his bed and cleaned up the floor. His own wounds caught up with him by then and he too fell asleep on a rug by the fire.

...

Lucien's sleep was light. He heard movement in the room, he looked up and saw Lena thrash in her sleep. "The wraith," he thought, it had to be. He could not help her fight the wraith, but he sat next to her anyway, checking her dressings. Most wounds seemed to have closed, he replaced a few bandages, and soon Lena calmed down, the wraith defeated. It must have been hard, for her face looked grey.

"Well then, they say it only hurts the first time," he said softly. "Shall we put it to the test? I think you need more blood." He moved her gently and lay on the bed next to her, his neck exposed. A minute later he felt her fangs pierce his neck. "I felt it, but pain it was not," he reflected, closing his eyes. This time he was certain he had enough blood to survive.

This feeding left Lucien weakened and sleepy, yet he still wasn't worried - he'd experienced loss of blood before and knew that he was in no danger of dying. He wanted to get up and go back to the rug by the fire, but found himself too weak for that, with his wounds taking a toll as well. Lavender in Lena's dressings made him sleepy, and he gave in to that, staying next to her.

He awoke several hours later realising that Lena was no longer cold as ice. She was still cold, but the air no longer froze around her. He checked her dressings, replacing a few, she was doing better. He checked his own dressings and replaced some as well. He still needed rest. He looked at the rug by the fire, shook his head and went back to bed, pulling a blanket over both of them. Lena slept without movement. "They say vampires don't twitch in their sleep," he looked into her face. "Perhaps. Except when they have to fight the Wrath of Sithis," he smirked, settling down. "Sleep well, Wolf." He put his hand on her shoulder and felt a heartbeat.

When Lucien awoke again, he found all his wounds closed and all Lena's wounds healing nicely. She was still asleep, and he didn't expect her to wake up considering how much lavender he put into her dressings. "She will sleep for half a day at least," he thought. "And I should soon be going." He did not want to be there when she woke up, he'd rather she didn't remember what happened. He looked into her face - she was still pale... too pale, perhaps. He laid out her armour, it was damaged but not too bad, it was mostly just covered in dried blood, nothing more. A large ruby amulet dropped out of a hidden pocket. "Oh wow - that's... I see." He looked at her again and knew that she needed more blood if she were to survive what came next. "Come on then, let's hope your instincts kick in..." He lay on the bed again and placed her head on his neck. She breathed in sharply and bit it without waking up.

This time Lucien couldn't get up. He still felt he was not in danger but he certainly could not leave. He was feeling the chill of the loss of blood, so he pulled a blanket over himself and Lena in order to keep warm. She was warm, he noticed. Her heart was beating. "And they say vampires' hearts don't beat," he thought. "Hers didn't beat at first, but look at her now... I wonder..." He hugged her and fell asleep.

When Lucien woke up next, Lena was twitching in her sleep. "She'll wake up soon," he thought. He got up and started getting ready to leave. He took a few steps and felt dizzy, his wounds were hurting too much and he felt weak. "I am not going anywhere today," he shook his head. "There's only one thing for it - watch and wait." He sat in the darkest corner of the room waiting for Lena to wake up.

He didn't have to wait long. Soon she sat up looking around, trying to remember what had occurred. She could not smell him, there were so many other scents in the room. Lucien sat cloaked waiting for her to leave. No, she didn't remember a thing. She got dressed, left him a note, tucked the Amulet of Kings into a hidden pocket and left for the Imperial City to crown the late Emperor's son.

"Good luck to you, Wolf," Lucien said when she was gone. "Hope to see you again." He got into bed and fell asleep as both his wounds and his blood needed to heal and recover.

[Lena Wolf]

Hearthfire, 3E437 - The end of an era

Mehrunes Dagon was marching onto the Imperial City. He entered Mundus - they were too late to crown the last Septim as the Emperor and the Dragonfires weren't lit. But Lena felt it was no reason to give up, and Baurus agreed - Baurus, the one Blade who didn't resent Lena her vampirism.

"The Emperor trusted you, he saw something in you," he shrugged when Lena asked why he kept treating her nicely. "The Septims see more than us ordinary folks. I trust the Emperor's judgement." It did imply that all the other Blades did not.

On the day when Mehrunes Dagon was marching onto the Imperial City, Baurus found Lena in the turmoil of battle.

"We cannot close all these Oblivion gates!" He took her aside. "There are too many. I think Mehrunes Dagon himself is coming."

"I agree," Lena nodded. "That idiot with the amulet wanted an official blessing of the Elder Council before putting it on... so instead of lighting the Dragonfires while he still had the chance, he had me escort him to the Elder Council... Can you imagine?! Does the man ever think about anyone but himself?!"

"Well, he is a Septim, so keep your voice down," Baurus looked around. "Septims are known for their stubbornness. We'll just have to deal with it."

"Do you have a plan?" Lena looked at the hordes of daedra pouring into the streets from the many Oblivion gates. They seemed to be going towards the Temple of the One, not bothering with pursuing mortals who ran for cover.

"The population was warned over and over to hide in their houses or in the sewers in case of an invasion," Baurus was watching the streets too. "It seems to be working. So we can focus on Dagon."

"Speaking of which... Here he comes!"

A giant stepped out of an Oblivion gate, his axe aimed at the Temple.

"He wants to destroy the Temple!" Baurus cried, knocking an arrow. "I don't know if this will work... but we should try!"

The battle was epic indeed, Dagon seemed invulnerable. Yet whenever someone hit him hard, he staggered, unable to attack.

"We should pull him over!" Baurus shouted. "He will fall and we'll have a chance of going for his head!"

"You must get me to the Temple!" Martin suddenly stood next to them. "I have a plan!"

"What plan?" Lena squinted at him. "It's too late for the Dragonfires."

"You'll see," Martin scowled. "I don't have to explain anything to you. I am the Emperor."

"Almost but not quite," Lena turned away, knocking a poisoned arrow for Dagon. "Can't you see - we are busy."

"You'll have to take him to the Temple," Baurus said to Lena, his voice practically covered by the noise of the battle. "He'll do something stupid, no doubt, but getting him killed will be worse. We'll pick up the pieces afterwards, as always."

Lena rolled her eyes and turned to Martin.

"Follow me, Your Majesty," she said dryly. "Don't fight along the way and keep close. Why are you not wearing armour again?" She didn't wait for a reply and pulled him into an alley.

"Why are we skulking about?" He protested. "The Temple is that way, we should take the shortest route!"

"We are taking the shortest route," Lena retorted. "The one with the fewest daedra along the way. I am here to keep you alive but I am no necromancer! So try not to die prematurely!"

The way with fewest daedra was still challenging enough, but eventually they made it to the Temple with Martin still alive. He ran to the altar just as Dagon smashed through the roof...

"An immortal can only be killed by another immortal!" Martin shouted and Lena realised it was his explanation. "I summon Akatosh!"

And then he did it - he broke the Amulet of Kings. A huge shock wave went through the Imperial Isle, rolling on to the furthest corners of Tamriel, Lena was certain.

"What are you doing?!" She shouted. "We do not need another Dragon Break!!!"

But it was too late, Martin stood by the altar, heavenly light streaming through him. A moment later he turned into a flaming dragon and attacked Mehrunes Dagon.

"Bloody Dragonborn!" Was all that Lena could say. The dragon was of course effective against the giant Dagon, but she could not stop thinking that Martin had lost his nerve and did the one thing an Emperor must never do - break the Amulet of Kings.

"Oh... that is worse than I thought," Baurus ran in and stopped, watching the dragon topple Dagon, with both of them turning to stone. The Oblivion gates collapsed and the city guard finished off the remaining daedra. The war was over.

"What are we supposed to do now?" People were coming to see the statue of the dragon. "We have no Emperor, no Dragonfires and no Amulet of Kings to protect us! What will prevent the daedra from invading Mundus again?"

"I just don't think about it," others would shudder. "The Elder Council will handle it sooner or later..."

...

"I suppose it isn't as bad as that," Baurus ordered another mug of ale at the All Saints tavern in the Imperial City. "The era of the Septims has finished, and with that Akatosh himself put a new seal around Mundus to protect us from future invasions."

"If you believe such a thing," Lena smirked, drinking deeply from her own mug of ale.

"Nah, of course not, Assassin," Baurus grinned. "But at least we survived."

"Assassin," Lena smiled. "That's what you said when we met back there under the Imperial Prison..."

"Seems it was a lifetime ago..." Baurus nodded. "But I was right, wasn't I? You had it in you right from the start."

"You are not supposed to know it, really..." Lena looked at him sideways. "You know how it is..."

"I know exactly how it is," he nodded. "I also know what is going on... If you need any help, I am often here... Just don't tell Jeoffre, he's... well... just don't."

"I don't need to talk to him ever again!" Lena scoffed.

"I don't blame you," he smiled.

...

The Oblivion gates seemed to have all but vanished. Stray daedra were still seen in the countryside here and there, but overall peace was restored and life went back to normal. Lena was still facing the Wrath of Sithis every time she slept, and assassins were still ambushing her on a regular basis, but overall her life felt like a breeze compared to the last year or so.

Lucien's life however was only getting harder. The Black Hand sent another Silencer after him, and that time he came off barely alive. Shadowmere brought him to Fort Farragut and he literally fell through the trapdoor, not able to control his movements. Yet he recovered and resumed his search for the traitor. Anvil was the key.

"You need to trust your apprentice," his mother told him when he came to visit her at the chapel - she was a Priestess of Dibella.

"My apprentice?" He looked up at her in surprise.

"The young Wolf," she smiled. "A bit too young for you just now, but time tends to correct such things..."

"What..?" He was taken aback. "No! She is..."

"She touched your heart," Irene Lachance looked at him seeing a young Novice of Dibella. "I know you, my son."

Lucien shook his head and looked away.

"She is remarkable, true," he admitted. "But she is my Sister... my apprentice... all right, I'll accept that," he nodded. "And right now she and I are both being hunted by our own Brotherhood, and so far it's been only getting worse..."

"Your father tried to spare you such a fate, that is why we left Morrowind and he's been staying away," she said wistfully. "Don't think for a moment that I don't miss him... I won't live to see him return, I don't think..." She looked away, brushing off a tear. "But you... your life should be long, like his. Take care not to die too early."

"Mum, don't talk like that." Lucien took her hand. "I have no intention of dying. And neither should you."

"Not yet, no," she smiled at him. "Just promise me not to rush into marriage again, wait for the right woman."

"That I can promise," he replied, taken aback. "Marriage is really the last thing on my mind right now... Sometimes you surprise me, mum..." He gave her a long look trying to figure out what brought that on, but she only smiled and didn't explain any further.

...

"Trust my apprentice..." Lucien heard his mother's words in his mind again. "Well, I suppose we could call her that. And here is something for her to do..." He noticed a dock hand put a scroll into the barrel mentioned in Lena's last contract as the next dead drop. "What's that lad got to do with Dark Brotherhood contracts? Perhaps I should have a word."

He followed the dock hand to the nearest tavern and watched him order a large mug of ale.

"Mind if I join you?" He sat next to him at the bar. "Didn't realise you were a fisherman."

"Fisherman?" The dock hand looked at Lucien with incomprehension. "What are you on about, man? I ain't no fisherman..."

"No? I saw you put some fish into a barrel just a few minutes ago," Lucien smiled. "What's the catch today? Haddock or cod?"

"I... What???" The lad rubbed his eyes but the ale was already making him see double. "What's it to you?"

"I like fish, is all," Lucien shrugged. "It's alright, I'll go and have a look for myself, if you won't tell me."

"I got no clue what it is, honest!" The lad finally realised that the man in a black robe sitting next to him was not a mage from the local guild. "I can't even read well enough! Talk to the lighthouse master, it was all his idea!"

"You think he's got fish?" Lucien smiled. "Well, you might be right, you know..."

"The basement..." The lad stuttered. "The lighthouse has a basement..."

That was as much as Lucien managed to get out of him, so he left him to his ale. He walked over to the barrel outside but found it empty. "Not good," he thought. "They saw me..." His mother's words sounded in his head: "Try not to die too early..." Quite. He should leave Anvil, and quickly.

"Take this to the Champion of Cyrodiil," he picked a card with a view of the Anvil lighthouse from a range at the Black Horse Courier office. "Got to join in the congratulations, right?" He joked with the clerk. "It isn't every day that we get saved from a daedric invasion!" He wrote with a florish "Congratulations to Our Saviour!", signed "LL", paid his fee and saw the clerk toss the card into a large sack marked "Imperial City".

"She's due there for the ceremony of awarding her the Order of the Dragon," the clerk explained. "Fear not, The Black Horse Courier never loses anyone's mail!"

...

Shadowmere was a remarkable horse. Not undead as some thought, she was in fact one of the black horses from the Cheydinhal stables. But nature had given her eyes with a red glow and made her faster and quieter than most horses, and so legends arouse around her which Lucien found amusing and never tried to deny. Shadowmere could outrun almost anything, moving swiftly and silently through the woods, always returning to Fort Farragut without the need to be directed by her rider.

It was that ability of his horse that was saving Lucien's life again and again, as the attacks by the Black Hand were getting more and more frequent. "Just how many Silencers do they actually have?" He wondered trying to outrun three assassins chasing him across the Imperial Reserve. "Let's try a diversion." He directed Shadowmere towards a group of ogres making camp by a cottage in the woods. "That's odd..." He looked back at them. "But convenient!" The ogres were too slow to catch Shadowmere but fast enough to block the way of the three riders in pursuit. He escaped this time...

He didn't always have ogres coming to his rescue however. More often than not Shadowmere brought him to Fort Farragut barely able to stay in the saddle, and sometimes even lying across it. On one such night he could barely see the trapdoor, he opened it with the last of his strength and dropped through it. He saw movement in the room, but couldn't get up or resist. "That's it, I die too early..." he thought. "Forgive me, mum..." Perhaps the new era was not meant for him.