A Door to the Past - Chapter Four (male vampire x female character, sfw) (Edited Dec 2023) (Patreon)

Today is the perfect day to delve into the snowy depths of Skyrim again for our vampire x female character story. It's revoltingly hot here still, but it's due to break into thunderstorms later in the week...

Last time: Kjartan ruminated on his past, and on his new freedom from his father, and at the end of the chapter, was the victim of a vicious prank that left him weakened with 'garlic poisoning'.

This time: We see things from Nora's point of view, as she 'discusses' the aftermath with Halvar, and Kjartan gets an altogether nicer surprise when he returns from hunting...

Wordcount: 2597

Chapter One, Two, Three

Watching Kjartan use his full powers as a pureblood vampire for the first time, Nora stood at the entrance to the college with her jaw slack. Like autumn leaves caught in a coiling corner-draft, the bats spiralled up and up into the sky before banking south-west towards the rocky outcrops that overlooked the town and eventually faded into the distant, ever-falling snow.

“Impressive, is it not?” Ervine chuckled behind her, making her gasp a bright curse of surprise and lurch around to face the Master Wizard.

“Yes,” she gasped. “Sorry, you scared me.”

Ervine ignored her foul language and instead fixed her with an intense, hazel glare that sent skittering shivers down her spine. The mage pouted slightly and then relaxed. “Interesting.”

“What?” Nora scowled, rubbing the goosebumps from her arms. “Wait, did you just use magic on me?”

With an amused smile, Ervine turned away from her and took a single step out onto the bridge, staring after the vampire though he had long ago vanished into the snow. “You are not enthralled.”

Nora’s scowl only deepened at that, and for a moment her mouth worked like the jaws of a caught salmon, struggling to find words. “Why would you say that? Of course I’m not… You think…? You think Kjartan thralled me?”

Ervine shrugged and turned away from the bleak view of the town below the college. It was obviously a view she knew well, and she didn’t care to linger in the cold. “I was surprised at the vehemence with which you defended him just now, that’s all. I had to make sure.”

“He wouldn’t!” Nora said hotly, fists clenched at her sides.

Ervine paused as she departed, heading towards the Hall of Attainment, presumably to clear up Halvar’s mess, and half turned to glance behind her. “With respect,” she said coldly, raising an eyebrow, “We don’t know that. We have only his word.”

As Nora watched her go, her cheeks flushed and she realised it was true. She barely knew the vampire but from what she had seen of him, he was a shy, compassionate creature, deeply knowledgeable about some things and utterly, astonishingly ignorant of others. Wary of normal social interactions and seemingly rather ignorant of current Nordic customs, and he was surprisingly unsure of himself. Unless he was a consummate actor, she didn’t feel like he was a predator.

A second later, the doors to the Hall of Attainment were flung open and Halvar barrelled out like a stray chicken flung outdoors by a farm-wife.

He staggered and stumbled, tripping over his feet but just catching himself from planting face-first into the snow of the courtyard beyond which had already been churned up by Kjartan’s reaction to the garlic.

A righteous fire flared inside her and she marched up to him, drawing one fist back. With her father in the Jarlsguard of Whiterun, and having been raised by him and the rougher, older kids of the town, she had no fears about breaking her fingers on the face of a cruel prankster. She knew how to throw a punch.

The blow to his cheekbone took him by surprise, connected with a satisfying clunk, Halvar went down with a sharp howl and sat in the snow on his backside, legs splayed comically. “Ow, fuck!” he spat, clutching his cheek.

“You deserved that, you little skeever-shite,” she spat. “How fucking dare you?”

“It was just a prank,” he grumbled, standing up and cupping his hands as if about to perform a healing on himself.

“Don’t you fucking dare heal yourself,” she snarled, taking a step closer to him and bristling like a cornered fox. “You deserve to carry that around, and if you don’t, I’ll tell everyone that you’re not only a sneaking shit-bag but a coward too.”

Halvar dropped his gaze and sighed. “No need to get all high and mighty on me,” he grumbled. “I know I went too far. I just… I just can’t stand him.”

“Why?” she asked, the anger deflating at the sheepish look on his face. She lowered her fist and nursed her knuckles. Dammit, Nord skulls really were solid. Maybe he did actually have some frost troll blood in him after all.

“You alright?” Halvar asked wryly, eyes on her hand, and she grinned.

“You’re not the first Nord I’ve punched in the face, Halvar.”

“I can believe that,” he chuckled, dabbing a fingertip to his cheekbone and wincing. “Damn.”

“Seriously though, what has he done to make you hate him so much?”

Halvar shuffled his weight and brushed a few bits of snow off his robes, working his jaw as if to make sure it was fundamentally unharmed after taking a solid crack like that. “Nothing… exactly… But he’s just so fucking creepy! With his eyes and his fangs… and you have to know what he feeds on…?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Blood…?”

Fixing her with a baffled look, he blurted, “Don’t you find that disgusting?”

She shrugged. “You like your venison pretty rare… How are his needs much different?”

“Because it’s gross!” he fired back. “I don’t hack a haunch off a deer and just eat it right there and leave the rest of it behind! Biting something that’s still alive like that and sucking them dry like a leech…” He grimaced and shuddered. “I keep waiting for him to start on us at night…”

With a dramatic eye roll, Nora turned away and leaned her back against the main protective wall of the cloister, arms crossed, the sole of one foot braced on the masonry. She sighed, the anger fizzling away to nothing. “I’m sorry about your face,” she said, and she meant it too. It was coming out in an angry red welt.

Halvar shrugged. “I probably had it coming…”

“Probably,” she said. As she sighed and leaned her weight a little more into the wall, a huge blast of magicka exploded out across the college, originating from their dormitory and leaving her gasping like she’d been punched in the sternum for a few seconds until it dissipated.

Mirabelle Ervine opened the doors a moment later, as serene as ever, not a hair out of place.

“Well, that’s that sorted,” she stated when she saw the pair of them standing with wide eyes in the cloister, magic crackling ready in their hands. “Halvar, you’ll be helping Urag in the library with whatever tasks he deems appropriate for the rest of the term. Tell him exactly why I sent you when you report to him after lunch.”

To his credit, Halvar swallowed thickly and bowed his head. “Yes, Master Ervine.”

“And if you ever so much as think about attacking a fellow student again, I will have you permanently expelled from this college, do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Master Ervine.”

“Same for you, Nora,” she said as she eyed the fresh bruise on Halvar’s face. “Justified or not, it’s not your place to deal out punishments.”

Chagrined, she nodded at the Master Wizard.

With one last piercing look at both of them, she turned on her heel and marched towards the main doors to the Hall of Elements just as Savos Aren himself stepped out, looking around as if expecting to find that half of his college had been vaporised. The two conversed briefly, the Archmage shot a dark look across the courtyard, and then the Dunmer went back inside with Ervine at his side.

“You’re fucking lucky, you know that?” Nora hissed at him with a pointed finger as she stamped inside for lunch.

“Yeah,” he croaked and fell into step behind her.

Kjartan didn’t reappear at the college all afternoon.

Preoccupied, Nora found herself idly doodling bulbs and flowers of garlic in the borders of her notes during Tolfdir’s afternoon lecture on the early Atmoran settlers to northern Tamriel. She usually loved the history lectures, but her mind kept sliding off topic. She couldn’t shake the way that the usually stoic and quiet vampire had trembled and retched, heaving and convulsing as the poisonous plant took hold of his body and shut it down so quickly. He always moved with the grace of a dancer, every motion perfectly controlled, perfectly contained, never taking up more space than necessary, never making sudden movements or raising his voice. Seeing him so out of control, so vulnerable, had left her oddly shaken.

By supper, he still hadn’t reappeared, and she found herself pacing her room. Aravi was sitting at the foot of Nora’s bed with a Destruction textbook open in front of her. They’d been assigned the task of creating a simple scroll spell to use in the next day’s class with Faralda, although Aravi had apparently run out of ink already and was borrowing Nora’s until she could go into town at the weekend to buy more from Birna’s Oddments.

“Don’t get that on my covers, will you?” she snapped as she eyed the teetering bottle. “That shit’s not cheap.”

“This one is being very careful. You, however,” Aravi pointed out, whiskers twitching as she brandished the feather end of her quill at Nora like a dagger-tip, “Are not helping with your pacing and your prowling. Something troubles you, yes?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m fine,” she grunted. “Listen, I’m going to walk along the bridge and back… Clear my head. I’ll see you soon.”

“Stay safe,” Aravi purred. “Do not get blown off into the sea! The wind is fierce this evening…”

With a silent wave of her hand as she left, Nora grabbed a thick fur coat and headed out into the pitch dark evening.

By the time she reached the entryway to the College at the start of the bridge, she was already having second thoughts about going out. The wind lashed the coast, thrashing the sea below to a frothing frenzy and driving ice-studded snowflakes into fierce, sheeting squalls. She stood at a dogleg bend in the bridge for a long time, squinting against the storm, trying to pick out a dark shape moving against the gathering snow but she saw nothing. She had to hold her hood in place over her head, its fur trim dancing distractingly in front of her eyes as the wind tugged at it and tried to rip it from her half-frozen fingers.

Sighing, she gave up and meandered aimlessly around the courtyard a little, scuffing patterns in the drifted snow across the flagstones.

When even that became too cold, she returned to the dormitory to find that Aravi had gone back to her own room, but had folded up a sheet of paper into a little bird and left it by the inkwell, now on her desk. The Khajiit had all sorts of unexpected and crafty talents, and Nora smiled, picking it up and placing it on a shelf with a few other sentimental trinkets.

Her door was still open, and she glanced across at Kjartan’s room. “I hope you’re alright,” she whispered and then went to wash and get ready for bed.

Over an hour later, she still hadn’t heard him come back. At that rate, she would probably end up staying awake all night wondering. She knew he could move with the silence of a shadow, and probably wouldn’t come knocking on her door on his way in, so she slid out of bed and padded barefoot across the hall to his door to see if perhaps he’d returned without her noticing. Knocking, she received no response, and pushed it open. All was dark and still inside, the bed crisply made and the room in perfect order. He hadn’t acquired any more belongings as the term had progressed, save for a few more books and rolls of paper.

At first she’d thought about sitting in one of the chairs by his desk, but the room was too cold for that, so she closed the door behind her and went to sit on the end of his bed. It creaked as she tucked her knees up to her chest, hugging them tightly. After a while, that was too cold as well and she began to worry her lip between her teeth. She should return to her own room. She had no right to intrude on him like this.

She yawned, tiredness prickling behind her eyes.

She yawned again and hesitantly slid her legs beneath the blankets. Resting her head on his pillow, she inhaled and caught the distinct scent of him. With the covers pulled up around her ears, it all but shut out the draft sneaking in under the closed door. She let her body go heavy and in a few breaths, she was asleep.

A slight pressure on her cheek pulled her from a deep sleep and her eyes fluttered open slowly. The room was perfectly dark, but as she looked up, inhaling deeply, she found two points of golden light looming over her. “Kjartan?” she gasped, jerking upright. “You’re back! Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he said. His voice was back to its usual, softly articulated murmur. “What are you doing in here?”

Her cheeks flushed hot and she looked away as she remembered with a jolt where she was. “I… You… You didn't come back so I… I wanted to wait for you. But it was cold, so… I’m sorry for barging in like this. I’ll go.”

“You don’t have to,” he said hurriedly. “I’m not going to sleep tonight. You can stay there if you’d like - if it’s already warm and… if you’re comfortable…”

“No,” she said, though what she really wanted was to say yes.

His bed had grown warm from her body heat and she was in fact so comfortable that the thought of leaving and facing the chilly air of the dormitory beyond almost hurt, but this wasn’t her room, and it wasn’t as though the two of them were that close.

Turning her eyes back to his, she found that he’d stepped back a pace and that she could just make out the rough outline of him as a denser shadow in the already dark room. The only light that snuck in under the door was a shimmering line of blue from the magicka font in the hall beyond.

“Are you really alright?” she asked as she slid out of the warm bed and gasped as her feet hit the freezing stone floor. “What he did to you was… barbaric.”

“Mm,” he hummed softly. “I’m fine. Thank you though… for earlier…”

She stood and fixed her gaze on those two golden discs of light. “You know, Ervine thought you might have thralled me…?”

His eyes narrowed and darkened a little, and he took a sudden step back. His back must have collided with the wardrobe because there was a soft grunt and a thump.

“Kjartan? She knows you didn’t.” He didn’t respond and the light in his eyes winked out. He must have closed them. She stood and reached blindly through the gloom for his arm and found it, surprisingly solid and hard, like he didn’t have an ounce of fat on him. Perhaps he didn’t. “So I may have punched Halvar in the face… He’s actually sorry, though. I think.” She paused. “I think he knows he took it too far.”

“I know he is,” Kjartan rasped enigmatically, without opening his eyes. “Listen, it’s late. You should sleep.”

“Right,” she breathed and let go of him. “I’ll… uh… see you tomorrow.”

“Mm.”

“’Night.”

“Goodnight, Nora.”

“And…” She lingered in his doorway with her hand on the iron handle, not wanting to open it before she’d finished speaking. “I really am sorry for barging in like this. I… I shouldn’t have and I don’t think I was really… you know… thinking.”

“It’s fine,” he said and she thought she heard a little smile in his voice. “You of all people are more than welcome in here, any time you like.”

“Really?”

“Mm.” His eyes blinked back alight in the darkness and glowed a brilliant gold.

“Thanks, Kjartan.” With a smile and a nod, she took herself back to her room, a little flushed and more than a bit relieved to have him back.

___

Chapter Five -> 

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