Fire And Fangs

Finale

Harkon snarled in anger as yet another attack failed, this time his blade being deflected off the Dragonborns before her blade suddenly changed direction, the tip of her lethal weapon grazing the front of his light armour. He began to circle her again, wondering why his taunt hadn't made a difference in her fighting style. Normally when in shock, an opponent would not be able to fight as effectively, doubt and uncertainty overriding the rest of the emotions.

In Morgans case, the taunt of her mother seemingly angered her to a new level, her attacks missing him by a mere hairs width. He narrowed his eyes.

In fact, he did know all about her mother. She was very difficult to track and even more difficult to keep up with. He had found out that the Thalmor had been searching for her for quite some time...and they had also been looking for her daughter. Apparently, she had killed two high ranking officers in her home town of Bruma, and since then, she had been a wanted person.

He ducked a nasty attack once more, kicking her in the ribs as to give him some time.

He had tried to send an anonymous letter to the Thalmor ambassador, but she had been killed in Solitude before she could read his offer. She had died at the hands of the naïve Solitude Jarl and of course, Morgan had been involved heavily in the deed. Lord Harkon hated being disappointed but he wouldn't give up...after all, he had sent another letter to Windhelm and the Jarl of Eastmarch, Ulfric Stormcloak.

He had nothing good to say about the Jarl, although had admired the way he had walked into the Kings hallway and took his life before leaving...

"ARGH!" he yelled as Morgans blade left a deep cut on his cheek.

Morgan smirked as she twirled her blade and adjusted herself again. She watched as the cut began to heal over, thanks to the regenerative abilities of a vampire and she raised an eyebrow as he met her gaze.

"Sorry, did I wake you?"

"You will pay for that you insolent little half blood!" Harkon roared as he leapt forwards...

To receive a thunderous kick that smashed into the side of his face with enough force to shatter a few teeth and send him spinning away from Morgan and into a wall. He staggered to his feet and hissed angrily at her before throwing his blade away and channelling his magic to transform. He was sure that she wouldn't be able to match him in his true form.

Morgan backed off slightly as Harkon emerged from the cloud of black smoke. She knew he would be much more dangerous now that he had changed over. But he was still overconfident and she would merely bide her time, attacking him when the opportunity arose.

"You fight well, I have to admit. Although it makes no difference," Harkon hissed as he advanced, sending a draining spell at Morgan, who blocked it with a Ward spell. "You will never be a match for me."

Morgan knew he had a point. The longer she held her Ward in place, the more magicka she lost. And if she dropped the Ward, she would be hit by the draining spell, leaving her even more vulnerable.

"Why is that? I am not the one who has now got half their teeth left," Morgan snarled back as she forced more magicka into her Ward.

"It makes no difference because even though you foiled so many of my plans, even you cannot save the life of your bitch mother, who is now being hunted by the Stormcloak cattle," he laughed as he walked forwards.

Morgan felt her magic waver at his words, and that was all the time that Harkon needed. He rushed forwards and stepped through her weak ward and gripped her by the throat before lifting her into the air. She attempted a swing at his head with her blade, but Harkon was ready for the attempt, grabbing her wrist and twisting it so that Morgan was forced to drop it.