#loyalindoril

It was startling to see the massive, terrifying, mer in the city square. Though he was shorter than many other mer back home, the Dunmer’s presence was like an alarm beacon to the Altmer. He couldnt tell why, but that was no ordinary vampire--the Lion knew it.

Sin hadnt expected to see him back in Riften. He couldnt recall seeing the mer there before, and that aura was too strong, too oppressive to simply not have noticed. But it was just the opportunity Sin needed, wanted. Feared. Dalamus wasnt there this time to call off the much larger mer. Did Dalamus even have “control” over the mer whom he considered a father figure? Sin wasnt sure, but certainly would have felt better were the much smaller vampire there with him.

But Sin wanted to do this. If the Lion let him...

For Thurvayn, he would choose a nice piece of parchment, and write how grateful he was for all of Thurvayn’s help over the years. And not just his help, but his presence. His calm patience and love and acceptance. For always having open arms and an open mind. For being firm when necessary, but never cruel. For always explaining his thought process so Dalamus could understand how his words and actions directly affect others, and why he should care. 

For not judging before having the whole story, and even then supporting Dalamus because Dalamus wanted to change for the better even though it is frightening to be vulnerable. And for promising to be that pillar of paternal strength whenever the vulnerability is too much and he needs a space to break down.

It would be several pages long as, when Dalamus begins expounding gratitude, he has difficulty stopping. He finds this embarrassing, but moreso when speaking aloud. At the same time, it is proof of his progress, and more reason to write to such lengths.

“They were few and far between, though it may have only seemed that way because I avoided contact with other vampires where I could during my first several decades. I was still of the mind that the majority were hostile. More than once I found myself chased out of a territory.

“But on the rare occasion, there were vampires who were gentle towards mortals. Those who lived among them and took up jobs as scholars and other teaching positions. Alchemists who would bring back long-forgotten recipes for medicine but framed it as a new discovery. I saw one vampire slip his own journals into a local archive. In it were observations of the world, and even doodles of some animals which had gone extinct. Most were understandably cautious and subtle with their help, remaining in the background to avoid drawing attention. Vampires are good at that.

“Even fewer were the vampires who wished to help other vampires, it seemed, or perhaps my bias clouds my memory. I was angry and resistant to help for.. well, up until a couple decades ago. I recall the occasional plead of a vampire saying ‘You do not have to be this way,’ but I could not conceptualize any other way of being. If mortals saw us as monsters, why bother pretending to be anything else? Such was my thinking, warped by pain and self-loathing.

With each new wave of vampire attacks on settlements came new questions about a vampire’s loyalty to the Dawnguard; even as he worked well into the night and before dawn to create enough curative potions for the true members to hand out to victims, he heard grumbling behind his back, mutterings to head off the threat he posed before he became a ‘problem’. The old mer tried to ignore them, but it was difficult-- his hearing was far better as a vampire than it had been as a mortal. 

He huffed and shook his head, returning his attention to the reagents before him, taking the small vials and wafting the fumes of the brewing potion toward his nose, all the better to know if the potion was good or not. He reached for a flask of crushed pearl and mudcrab chitin without a thought-- everything in his lab had a specific place, to ease a blind mer’s navigation. He added the ingredients to the simmering vial of water. It would be a foul-tasting brew, but quite effective. 

Tagged by: @haleth-dovahkiin

11 - Do you visit your father? How often?

12 - What’s the best memory of your father?

“Probably when he first invited me into his home. It was under interesting circumstances–greymage shenanigans–but ended with me feeling the most familial love I have ever felt in my life. Not only did Thurvayn welcome me, but his wife and his children treated me with kindness and respect on a level I had never expected anyone to give me, let alone think I deserved. I.. do recall shedding tears once or twice, I am embarrassed to say.”

13 - What’s the worst memory of your father?

“I.. cannot recall a time when he was cruel or unjust to me. Everything he has ever said has been with purpose, to inform or guide or console me. We have argued on occasion, but not anything I hold a grudge over. When we first met, he mistook me for someone he was hunting, and attacked me.” He grinned at that. “Occasionally a reprimand would wound my pride a bit, but I can understand now that it was necessary each time.