Archive of Our Own

There was something about the way the candlelight illuminated Serana that had Fyorith absolutely enamored. She could not put her finger on it.

Watching the other woman while she was unaware had become her favorite pastime – had always been her favorite thing to do, well before the start of their relationship, actually. She was so peculiar. Sometimes Fyorith forgot this woman came from an age well before her time. In fact, her age should have intimidated her, but what was it if not simply a number? Interracial relationships were not entirely uncommon, it was true. But outliving your partner by a span of years must weigh heavily on many mer.

In this case, it was Serana who would have outlived her, had she not turned her. Vampires never aged, and so long as they were never killed, they would live countless years on Nirn.

Perhaps being a vampire had its merits after all, though immortality didn’t come without its own pitfalls. Their friends would eventually dwindle in numbers over the next few centuries.

No need to dwell on that now.

“You’re staring again, Fy,” came Serana’s lilting voice from across the room. Her eyes were on the Dragonborn now. The book in her lap lay open, forgotten for the time being.

Fyorith grinned, flashing teeth. She really couldn’t hide anything from Serana. “I can’t help it if my girlfriend just so happens to be the most beautiful woman in all of Tamriel,” she boasted, not hiding the pride in her voice.

Serana scoffed, rolling her eyes at the outrageous comment. “Careful. That’s a rather bold statement you’re making.”

The Dunmer’s grin grew wider. “Is it? I suppose I could alter that statement to one you’ll accept, hm?”

“That depends.”

“On?”

Serana crossed her arms over her chest, sharpening her gaze. She meant to challenge her. “Where you prefer sleeping tonight.”

To any but Fyorith, this statement might come off as harsh. Serana was right to be serious though, and her girlfriend knew this. That didn’t stop the display of mock hurt, pale gray hand over her heart as though to say she’d just been physically injured.

“You wound me, my dear.”

Serana only watched her expectantly. Fyorith sighed, playfulness all but gone, her shoulders slumping a bit once she’d realized her mistake. It wasn’t that Serana didn’t appreciate compliments. She didn’t like unrealistic ones that placed her on a pedestal. “Alright. Maybe that was a bit arrogant of me.”

“And?”

“And, in order to make this right, perhaps it would be easier if I were to tell you all the ways in which you mean to me.”

Fyorith watched her partner’s expression ease up a little. She knew she’d piqued her interest with this declaration, though she still had to fix the mess she made.

As it turned out, whether at the hands of either the Aedra or Daedra (as it was easier to simply blame them over her traitor tongue), Fyorith could not string together a single coherent sentence to save herself. What came out instead was a mess of sounds and noises. She hung her head, cheeks burning hot from embarrassment. That went well…

Boots thudded softly against the wooden floor, getting closer until a shadow cast over her. Fyorith looked up slowly, catching sight of Serana’s relaxed expression. Her eyes had softened, and she wore the sweetest of smiles.

“Come here,” she said, offering her hand to help Fyorith to her feet, then slid her arms around the shorter woman’s shoulders. She felt the other woman relax against her, hands tentatively moving to encircle her waist. Serana’s fingers lightly teased her girlfriend’s long white hair, a habit she’d developed of late.

“I’m sorry…” Fyorith mumbled into Serana’s shoulder some time later. “I should have known better.”

“I forgive you, though I have to admit, watching you stumble over yourself like that was certainly a sight,” Serana chuckled. “It was cute. You’re cute.” She received a groan in reply. The room was quiet again, for a time.

“Hey, Serana?”

“Yes?”

Fyorith pulled back a bit, looking directly into her eyes. Being this close to the Dunmer woman, Serana could easily make out the flecks of gold amongst that sea of green. Her dragonsoul nearly overpowered her vampire blood, but it still fought for the right to manifest itself and co-habitate with Fyorith’s other identity.

“I think, that is, what I mean to say earlier was… You’re the most beautiful person in my life. And, uh, n-not just physically either. I know that, sometimes, you find it hard to accept the good in yourself, because you feel you aren’t deserving of it. But, to me, you are. Very much so. You’ll do whatever it takes to protect your ideals, and the people you care about. You’re a force to be reckoned with, in and out of battle. And I’ll do everything in my power to protect that. I’ll protect you with all that I am, and all that I have. You mean everything to me. I feel so lucky to have you in my life. And… I want you to know, that… I love you, most of all.”

The very thought of being so important in someone else’s life nearly overwhelmed Serana. It was not something she was entirely used to, though she was certain that, given enough time, she could adjust to it. Fyorith’s words, however… they rendered her speechless. How does one even respond to something like that? Even when she least expected it, her mate never ceased to amaze.

She slid her hands from Fyorith’s hair, moving to gently cradle her face, tilting her head back just so. She hoped the silent cues were enough to get her message across as her gaze flicked from her partner’s lips back to her eyes. Sometimes actions were more powerful than words, so when Fyorith didn’t shy away, tightening her grip, their bodies nearly flush against each other, Serana closed the gap between them.

The moment their lips met, it was tender, sweet. Gentle. She could feel Fyorith smiling against her lips and it only fueled her, pressing in further. A sound of contentment rumbled in her throat, and her heart swelled until it threatened to burst. The taste of her lips was addicting, maybe even more so than the taste of her blood. Turning Fyorith might have been an intimate act, but kissing her was its own intimacy. An act that she would never get enough of.

When their lips parted, almost reluctantly, Serana made sure to burn the experience to memory. She wanted to remember pouring her feelings, all her love, into that one, single moment.

Fyorith pressed her forehead against Serana’s, reveling in their closeness. It always surprised her just how much Serana loved to kiss her, but she couldn’t complain.

“Thank you, Fyorith.”

“Mm. No words are necessary.”