Chapter Text
It was another boring evening in the castle as the sun began to rise and the other vampires of Clan Volkihar were either finishing their meals or already asleep. Orthjolf sat at the large dining table, feeding from some nameless thrall as Vingalmo chided Ronthil in his usual, snide tone. Vingalmo's annoying voice always made Orthjolf want to rip somethings head off. His jaw clenched and his fangs dug harder into the thrall's neck, causing it to whimper. Orthjolf grumbled and withdrew from the thrall on the table and sat back in his chair, letting his head fall back against it. He stands up suddenly and practically stomps out the front door to the castle. He needs some fresh air before the sun rises. He steps out into the foggy air around the castle and breathes in deep. Orthjolf can smell the salt in the sea and the must in the air as he breaths in, but there was something unfamiliar in the air. The scent of... dogs, and garlic, and mortal humans that definitely weren't thralls. Orthjolf walked further out to the shore around Castle Volkihar to look out in the distance. He squinted to see through the fog as his eyes landed on a boat filled with people wearing familiar heavy armor and a certain vampire sitting among them.
The Dawnguard, and they're coming right for the castle. Which means they're also coming for the heads of everyone in Clan Volkihar.
Orthjolf backs up to the stone bridge before turning to run back inside. He can feel chills running down his spine as he presses back against the doors, his breathing all too loud in the suddenly quiet castle. He rushes down the stairs to the main hall, almost tripping on a step on the way down. Vingalmo stares as the usually abrasive nord runs through the castle like a wide-eyed child afraid of his own shadow. The altmer scoffs and rolls his eyes as he continues to head down to the bedroom chambers. Whatever game Orthjolf is playing now, Vingalmo is too tired to care right now. Only the roars of the gargoyles outside that guard the castle are what stop Vingalmo in his tracks and make Orthjolf run faster through the halls. Orthjolf hurriedly bursts into Harkon's quarters as his skin crawls, and he feels an unbearable chill rush up his spine. But Harkon is not here, and Orthjolf has little time to question where he may be as he hears the doors to Castle Volkihar slam open. The nordic vampire spins around and rushes back out into the main hall, watching as Dawnguard Hunter's flood into the castle and begin their gruesome battle with the other vampires below. Orthjolf freezes for only a moment before he is quickly pulled back to reality when a steel bolt flies past his face, narrowly missing him. He bolts down the stairs and begins engaging in the fight. He uses his ax as best he can, but it is eventually sent flying from his hand and lodges itself in a pillar above. Without thinking, Orthjolf turns on his heels and darts into the alchemy room with heavy breaths, twisting and turning through the narrow stone corridors as his mind is filled with too many thoughts at once. Orthjolf can feel his stomach twist as he bolts through a door leading to the basement of the castle. He practically jumps down the staircase as he runs past the thrall master and into a different room. He hurriedly pulls back a large wooden shelf with many old and bloody bones to reveal a hidden passageway, and hurriedly crawls through. He finally makes his way through the secret passage to the outside of the castle.
Orthjolf stands at the edge of the lake that surrounds Castle Volkihar, still shaking from the current siege on his only home.
He thinks about the rest of the court. They weren't exactly the best of friends, but they were a sort of family. The only family they all had after so many centuries anyways. Orthjolf turns to look back at the castle. There was no chance that his old home and family were left, and even less of a chance that they would welcome him back if they were. Castle Volkihar was the only place left in Skyrim that he could call home. Orthjolf turns and starts to sprint back around to the main castle doors.
He can't just abandon it. He needs to go back and help them, he needs to defend the castle, he needs to-
His thoughts of going back into the castle are cut short, however, when Serana and the Dragonborn emerge around the corner a few yards away. Orthjolf stares at them as a sudden dread fills him. Serana and the Dragonborn slowly approach, and he knows he should fight till the bitter end, but he can't stop his body from backing away as they approach. They stop a good few feet away from Orthjolf as he grits his teeth, and the vampire finally makes a decision.
Orthjolf jumps into the air, a puff of smoke enveloping him before he reappears as a bat, flapping his wings vehemently to escape before they can catch him. Serana, the Dragonborn, and the rest of the Dawnguard watch as Orthjolf escapes into the blooming dawn sky.