#Zahyla

[lesbian-lorkhan]

Suleykpaar, the heretic dragon priest

Zahyla's heretical and unapproved mask

[casdiara-thestoryteller]

Zahyla, the Vestige and the Hero of the Aldmeri Dominion

[lesbian-lorkhan]

Would it be fucked up if I made Zahyla some weird mix of Vestige, Dragonborn, Lorkhan's Parallel, and a failed Dragon Priest ?

[lesbian-lorkhan]

Accidentaly made Zahyla and Serana so fucking old they were already alive before the dwemer disappeared

[lesbian-lorkhan]

Trying to piece together a coerent timeline for Zahyla and Serana is insane

[lesbian-lorkhan]

First Meeting

Zahyla was the only elven child in her village. A small little place in the Haafingar hold. They were all nords or bretons, sometimes imperials, but never an altmer like her. Especially not an altmer who spoke like a khajiit.

Born to an altmer mother, Zahyla’s father was a caring khajiit man who had raised her since she was a baby. That was until her mother demanded her custody, saying the life with a merchant caravan wasn’t proper for a seven years old. From traveling through Tamriel, to being stuck in this miserable cold place. She missed her father and her brother, and knew that her stepmother was pregnant, meaning Zahyla would soon have a baby sibling.

The girl was no stranger to loneliness. The kids of the village wanted nothing to do with her, too worried about her being weird, and depending on who you asked, creepy. In such a small village, rumors and gossip travelled faster than Jode and Jone in the sky. All it took was a single child, the daughter of the innkeeper, to see Zahyla asking a pilgrim about Azurah for it all to start. Zahyla had seen the man sitting in the tavern’s fire, telling people stories about the divines and their doings. As curious as she had always been, the young elf couldn’t help but ask the man about deity who had created her people.

However, to the nords, Azura was nothing more than a Daedric Prince. An innocent question became gossip about how Zahyla had asked the pilgrim about a Daedric Prince. The gossip turned into a rumor about her going around asking about daedra. The rumor grew, and became the reason she was ostracized by her peers a “daedra worshiper”.

She sighed, burying her face in her hands. The elf sat on the stairs of her house, watching as people’s lives went by.

“Give it back!” Zahyla raised her head, attention caught by the voice. From across the house, she could see two kids, an older boy, and a girl who looked about her age. His arm was raised, holding something out of the girl’s reach as she jumped and punched his arms.

“Aw, and what are you going to do ? Cry to your mama ?” The boy laughed and pushed the girl away with his free hand, using enough strength to send her to the ground.

“Hey!” Zahyla got up, marching to the kids’ side. A rush of bravado seemed to take over her. “Stop!” “Oh, look! It’s the cat elf.” A mean smile spread across his face as he stared down at her. “What are you going to do, huh ? Hiss ?”

Zahyla clenched her fists, feeling the girl’s eyes on her.

“This one will show you what she will do!” With a snarl, Zahyla charged at the boy. She jumped and clutched to his back, holding tight to his shirt. The boy screamed as he tried to grab her in a desperate attempt to get her out. Zahyla sank her teeth into his arm, not strong enough to bleed, but enough to make him yelp in pain, opening his hand and letting a necklace fall.

With both hands free, he grabbed Zahyla by the back of her shirt and yanked her away from him, throwing her into the ground. All air was expelled from her lungs as she fell on her back with a pained “oof”.

“Freak!” The boy yelled, clutching his bitten arm like it was going to fall. Turning his back to them, he ran away.

Laying on the ground, slightly dizzy and weighting the chances of waking up with a sore back the next morning,

A pale hand came into her view, contrasting against the blue sky. Zahyla took it and the girl helped her sit up, her eyebrows knit together.

“Are you ok ?” Her voice was so full of worry that Zahyla’s eyes widened in surprise. “Are you hurt ?” The girl’s eyes were so blue they reminded Zahyla of the skies in Elsweyr, empty of clouds and shining like precious gems.

“Hello ? Are you alright ?” Zahyla could feel her cheeks heating up as she snapped back to reality. In an attempt to not further embarass herself after shamelessly staring at the girl, Zahyla jumped to her feet with the agility of a cat, posing dramatically with both hands on her waist and head held high.

“‘twas but a scratch!” She smilled, chin up and eyes closed heroicaly.

[lesbian-lorkhan]

How Far

How far would she go for Serana ?

Zahyla asked herself.

She asked herself as she rushed to Serana’s house, clutching a dagger so tightly her knuckles turned white. Shokul and Kovan were right behind her, maybe to guarantee she would get herself killed, maybe to stop her from going too far. 

Zahyla wasn’t a fighter. She would get in some trouble along with her friends from time to time. All the times she had had to fight, because someone threatened her, or because that person was getting under her skin, or worse- someone was threatening Serana- all those times her fighting was a hurt and run situation. No time to punch, or kick, or deal well thought blows. No, everytime Zahyla fought, she ran straight to her opponent, clinging to their necks, scratching their faces, biting their ears. And then fuck off. Fuck off fast enough that they wouldn’t be able to strike back.

Now, now was different. Now Zahyla barged into Serana’s house, a feeling that something was wrong. She didn’t know what. She hadn’t known how to explain to Shokul and Kovan that something was very, very wrong. But that didn’t stop her. Jode and Jone protect her, because she would take on Lord Harkon if needed.

Nothing could have stopped Zahyla as she ran down the house’s corridor, straight for Serana’s room. 

There was a single person in the entire house, it seemed, a poor guard just in front of the door. A vampire, Zahyla made a mental note as she charged. 

He had no time to react. Her grip on the dagger was imperfect and her vision was painted red by rage, but nothing, not even a Daedric Prince, could have stopped Zahyla from throwing herself into the guard. 

He had no time to react, as she thrusted the blade where she imagined would be his heart. Would that kill a vampire ? She had no idea. So, just to make sure, she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. With a strength she didn’t even know she had, Zahyla smashed his head against the floor, struggling to keep him down, pinning his arms with her knees.

She smashed it again, watching as he struggled less. Again. And again. And again, and again, and again, and again.

She smashed his head against the floor non-stop. Consumed by rage, she only stopped when a pool of blood formed around them. Her hands were painted crimson. So was her part. And it splattered against her shirt. Against the walls. 

Vampires could bleed, it seemed.

Zahyla let go of the dead man, not bothering to clean her hands as she kicked the door handle until it gave in. She didn’t bother to clean her hands, as she found Serana crying, curled up on her bed. She didn’t bother to clean her hands as she rushed to her side, holding her close and tight.

How far would she go for Serana ?

She knew ,now, that she would go as far as killing someone. 

Zahyla had never killed in her life til that day, but, as she found out, she would kill for Serana.

-

How far would she go for Serana ?

Zahyla knew now that she would, alone, fight a Daedric Prince, the very one who had caused Serana so much suffering.

The Vestige wanted to tell herself that she was doing this for everyone. That she was fighting for all of Tamriel, so the Planemeld couldn’t be completed. That she was fighting for the Five Companions, for the Dominion, for the Thieves Guild, for Shokul and Kovan, for everyone that was counting on her to stop the Prince of Schemes. 

But she knew, she knew that she wasn’t doing it for some noble reason, she wasn’t fighting for the reason a hero would be fighting for.

No, she was fighting because since the night she barged into Serana’s room after having killed for the first time, Zahyla had held her dear friend for innumerous nights as nightmares made her wake screaming. Zahyla was fighting, because everytime Serana cried, screamed and struggled, her blood boiled with rage at Harkon, at Valeria- and at Molag Bal.

Zahyla knew, as she clutched her staff, gaze locked on the form of the Daedric Prince, how far she would go for Serana.

She charged, a fear inducing scream leaving her mouth as went straight for the Prince. She ducked from his blow, jumped on his back, and held the staff against his neck, choking the Prince with all her strength. Zahyla knew he wouldn’t simply die from this. She knew the fight would be very long and would still be very much alive after this was over. 

However, Zahyla also knew that herself was immortal too. The Vestige wouldn’t simply die. She would succumb, her body would reform from Azure Plasm, and she would come back after him again. For every time she died and reformed, she would be back to banish or kill Molag Bal again, forcing him into the painful and slow process of reforming from the same matter as her. 

How far would Zahyla go for Serana ?

Well.

She would go as far as fighting against a dangerous Daedric Prince, and making it her life mission to turn his eternal existence into hell.

-

She would go as far as searching all of Tamriel for years. From the second to fourth era, she never really stopped looking. Everytime vampires were mentioned, she would be there. From Greymoor in 2E, to Morthal in 4E, to finally the Dawnguard. For Lorkhaj’s sake, Zahyla couldn’t stand Isran, but the Danguard was her only current lead on finding Serana after thousands of years.

-

How far would Serana go for Zahyla ?

The vampire asked herself. She had no hope of waking up while Zahyla was still alive. She knew her friend as a Vestige. But what if she was asleep for so long it changed ? What if she was asleep for so long, death had finally managed to claim Zahyla’s stubborn soul, dragging her kicking and screaming to the afterlife.

Serana would never have expected to wake up thousands of years later, only to be held before her knees could even hit the ground. Held by Zahyla, who stared at her with tears in her eyes, her head shaved and two horns coming out of her head.

How far would Serana go ?

She would go as far as clutching a dagger on her hand until her already pale knuckles turned even paler, staring down at her father. And as Harkon makes a move to kill Zahyla- and oh, how could he ? How could a simple vampire lord manage to kill the Vestige, the Dovahkiin, the person who saved the world so many times back in the second era, who fought Molag Bal, who stopped other Daedric Princes, who helped Martin Septim stop Dagon. How could he even kill her ? He couldn't, but all Serana could think was that Zahyla was in danger, and nothing, not even her father would separate them again. They were finally together, and this time it was forever.

So she would cross a line. She would cross the line and snarl, let her hands turn into claws, let her face become beastlike and wings sprout from her back, using that cursed form her father forced into her, to slit his throat from ear to ear, so he wouldn’t lay a single finger on Zahyla.

Serana would go as far as killing her own father in a moment of rage because he dared to threaten Zahyla.

-

How far would Zahyla go for Serana ?

She didn’t know for sure.

As she ran her fingers through Serana’s soft black hair, Zahyla thought of all they had gone through. A kiss to her forehead, another to her nose, and their lips met.

She had lost count of how many years they had known each other. But she knew that today would mark the 45th year of their lives as a couple. And still, every kiss was as special as the first.

Zahyla killed people, daedra and monsters. She fought Daedric Princes, saved the world, and became incredibly powerful. She searched for years for a way to make sure Serana’s soul would never be in reach of Molag Bal’s disgusting claws. 

She created her own little realm of Oblivion. A peaceful place to rest between adventures. She had ascended to somewhere between a Daedric Prince and an Aedra. Zahyla had, after much time, found a way to keep her beloved’s soul out of Coldharbour. 

Zahyla had no idea how far she would go for Serana, her best friend and love of her life. For every time she asked herself that question, she would find out she would go even further than before.

[lesbian-lorkhan]

Some friendships are meant to last eras

[lesbian-lorkhan]

TESfemslash week Day 4

Wounds & Healing

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Serana would always remember the day she noticed it. The way she would let her hand linger every time she touched Zahyla. The way the world seemed to light up when her friend smile. The way her ears perked up she saw Serana. The glow of her eyes. How she wanted the elf to embrace her, to hold her hands, to sleep close to her.

And then came the day she noticed how her gaze wandered to Zahyla’s lips. The day she caught herself thinking about how it would be to kiss her. She was sixteen at the time, and Zahyla had just turned seventeen. Serana told herself that she didn’t have time to worry about such thing, with her father always breathing down on her neck. What would she even do ? She had no idea how to react to this. She had to be sure that her friend felt something too, that confessing her own feelings wouldn’t destroy their friendship.

But then, that happened. She would always remember the day that Zahyla had all but kicked her bedroom’s door down, a bloodied knife in her hand and a different glow to her eyes. Kovan and Darien were close behind, and she was sure the guard posted outside the room was now lying on the floor.

Zahyla fell down to her knees, holding the now vampire as she cried, clinging to the elf like her life depended on it. Serana had lost account of how many hours she passed crying, but Zahyla never let go of her. For so long, that had been the last time Serana had let herself be held like this. Each passing day she flinched when someone touched her. She avoided direct eye contact. The thought of kissing someone, even her most dear friend, caused her nausea. 

-

An entire era had passed since Serana last saw her. The tears in her face after what happened to Darien were still fresh when she had to flee and hide with the elder scroll. An entire era had passed since Serana last saw Zahyla, clutching her staff, bloodied and wounded, limping, left eye cut and blinded, her long braid cut off in the heat of the battle. She didn’t even have time to say goodbye.

So nothing could have prepared her to the day she was freed from her hiding place. Serana fell forward, weak and disoriented, and strong arms caught her. She looked up at whoever opened the tomb, gaze finding a tall and hooded individual. She could see four horns coming out directly from the person’s shaved head. The hood casted a shadow that made it impossible to see anything beside a pair of bright blue eyes with fended pupils. That surely wasn’t one of her clan’s vampires. The figure slowly brought a hand to the hood, pulling it back, revealing a familiar face. Zahyla’s face had way more scars than Serana could remember. She seemed tired. Tears stained her cheeks. 

After so many years, Serana let herself be embraced by the elf and hugged her back.

-

Between killing her father, defeating Alduin and getting Miraak out of Apocrypha, a total of three years had passed. Darien was with them again after some ritual Zahyla did to the Dawnbreaker. Kovan was with them again too, now as Sheogorath. And Serana would find shortly after being freed that Zahyla herself was now a Daedric Prince too. 

They sat on a beach of Sanctuary, watching the sunset, when Serana caught herself once more looking to her side, smiling as she watched Zahyla. The tattoos that covered her body, the horns, the scars in her face. She had fallen in love with it all again. And most important, she noticed, the idea of being close, of kissing her, was now something pleasant again.

“You know,” Serana’s eyes were wide and she would be blushing if not for the vampirism, when Zahyla’s gaze met hers amidst her staring. In contradiction, the elf herself had flushed cheeks and her eyes sported round, soft pupils. She smiled, and Serana felt the equivalent of a beating heart hammering inside her chest. “after… everything that happened, back in the second era, I told myself that I had to give you time and space. That I would wait as long as needed, but I wouldn’t ever pressure you about the subject. And after so many years, this one thought that.. uh, that maybe.. you know.. she…”

Serana was amused with the scene. Zahyla Aldmeri, the Vestige, the Soulless One, Hero of the Aldmeri Dominion, Daedric Prince, creator of a new type of vampirism, and the person who constantly bragged about beating Molag Bal, was blushing and rambling. 

“Zahyla.” Serana took one of Zahyla’s hands, eyes never leaving her face. “Can I kiss you ?”

“Oh, oh! This one was.. she.. yes.” Zahyla gave up on trying to form coherent thoughts as Serana pulled her close. Their lips met in a soft kiss, so full of love that both women couldn’t stop smiling when they broke apart. Zahyla cupped Serana’s cheek, and the vampire leaned on her touch. “This one loves you so, so much.”

“I love you too.”

[lesbian-lorkhan]

Braids

Zahyla had such long and volumous hair, that her father always said it was a khajiit mane. Strands of reddish hair that flew behind her as she tried to outrun Serana, as both kids played in the snow. She stopped suddenly, snowball in hand, ready to throw it. But when she turned back to look at Serana, all the hair hit her face, blinding Zahyla. She tripped over her own feet and fell to the ground. The nord girl stopped by her side, bending over as she wheezed.

“Wow, not even an “are you okay ?” before laughing.” Zahyla crossed her arms over her chest, hair still all over her face.

“You were whipped by your own hair! It’s hilarious!” 

“This one could have died!”

“You fell on your butt.” 

“Yes, and now it’s wet ‘cause of snow.” She brushed the wild strands away from her eyes, in time to see Serana’s laughter turn into giggles and then stop. It felt great to make her laugh so much. A little smile opened on her own face.

“I can braid it for you, so it won’t fall on your face all the time.” Serana said.

“Really ?”

“Yeah! Come on, let’s get your snow butt inside and I’ll teach you how to braid it.”

-

Serana ran her fingers through the strands of Zahyla’s air. It was soft and pleasant, the knots giving away under her touch. She knew Zahyla was enjoying it as much as her, a low fluttering sound coming from her throat. When Serana first met her, it was impossible to say Zahyla was half-khajiit. As they grew closer and older, Serana was able to notice little traits. Zahyla’s heavy accent. The way she talked in third person. How she got hairier as she got older, hair on her arms, her legs, the growing sideburns. And the purring. Serana loved it. 

“Come on. We’re gonna get late, Kovan is waiting. Said he met this new guy and we need to meet him.”

“You talk like you don’t enjoy getting your hair braided.”

“Zahyla…. does not.” She said, continuing to purr.

“Hm.”

“Ok, maybe khajiit does like it.”

“And that’s why I’ve been braiding your hair for the last ten years, even if you know how to do it.” Serana let got of the half made braid to scratch the side of her head, fingers sliding down to the growing stubble on the side of her face, along her jawline. It was very soft to touch, unlike her father’s beard. 

“If you continue this, this one will be forced to fall asleep.” Zahyla closed her eyes, melting and leaning against the touch of Serana’s warm skin.

“I’m sure Kovan won’t be angry to have some more minutes alone with this friend of his.”

-

The edge of the camp was dark, far from the light of the campfire. A small cave near the road, a simple fire, three bedrolls arranged around it. It wouldn’t take too long to reach Skywatch. They had left Vulkhelguard as soon as Ayrenn’s message had reached them. They left Kovan at the port so he could get the boat to the Gold Coast and set foot on the road. Zahyla’s brother, Razum-dar, had come with them and slept quietly by the fire. 

Serana was always the one awake to watch over the camp during the night. After all, vampires didn’t need to sleep. However, Zahyla too was awake, her head resting in Serana’s lap, as she undid Zahyla’s braid and redid it. 

After Serana was turned, Zahyla slept every night close to her. She hadn’t fully given up on sleeping. It was a good way to rest her mind. But every night or so she would be plagued by nightmares of that one day. And every single time it happened, Zahyla would wake up in seconds, ready to hold her hand and comfort her until she was able to sleep again.

Since the ritual, Zahyla started to be plagued by nightmares too. But different from Serana, there was no waking up screaming. It was far more subtle. It was a change of breathing, from calm to fast. It was not moving, standing very still. And Serana was glad she was the one who stayed awake every time they slept on the road, because she would be there ready to notice something wasn’t right.

She held Zahyla’s hand, running her fingers through the shaved side of her head. 

They both had changed so much. The blue of Serana’s eyes gave away to an unnatural gold, and her warm fingers became cold. The sides of Zahyla’s head were now shaved, same as the facial hair that was now non-existent as she kept a clean shave. She spoke less in third person now, though her heavy accent was still there.

A new scar marked the valley between her breasts.

They both had changed so much, but still, as Serana braided Zahyla’s hair with the same familiarity one said their own name, Zahyla felt calmer, until she fell asleep again.

-

Zahyla’s long braid was cut off during one of the many battles in Summerset. An enemy hand grabbing it, a slash of Kovan’s knife to stop a tragedy. 

They lost people.

Three days after everything happened, Zahyla woke up to an empty bed and a note.

Father is dangerous. No matter where we go, he will find me. So I must go where not even you can find me.

Please stay safe.

I’m sorry

She clutched the paper to her chest as she cried. Her short hair falling over her face.

-

When Fennorian talked about vampires causing problems in Skyrim, Zahyla got filled with hope. 

Maybe this had something to do with clan Volkihar.

Maybe it had something to do with whatever Harkon was doing.

-

It had nothing to do with clan Volkihar.

Zahyla shaved her head.

She kept it that way through next thousands of years.

-

Zahyla’s hair had come to grow long again, so full of braids it reminded Serana of a khajiit’s mane. It was shaved where the eras old tattoos of the First Aldmeri Dominion covered the skin. Those tattoos covered Zahyla’s whole body, marking her as the fabled Hero of the Dominion, who saved Valenwood, Summerset, and Elsweyr during the Planemeld. The scars that littered her body told tales of the times she saved Tamriel. Her facial hair grew once again. Her eyes were different, with slit pupils and dark sclera. Two reddish horns grew from her scalp.

Zahyla could barely believe how far they had come. Kovan was brushing his long white beard, the Wabbajack standing by itself next to him.

And Serana was laying on top of Zahyla, making tiny braids in her hair.

“This one is going to have so many braids, the first Mane will be jealous of her.”

“I think you will need a lot more hair to make the first Mane jealous, love.” 

“Well, Zahyla may not have as many braids as the Mane, but she has a wife she loves very much.” Zahyla caressed Serana’s cheek. Serana got closer and gave her a soft kiss.

[casdiara-thestoryteller]

TES femslash week Day 1

Dawn

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During all her life, Zahyla heard about the Summerset Isle. The inner sanctum of the altmer archipelago. Specially about Alinor, with it’s glass buildings, so tall they could touch the sky. And she had to give reason to every single person who describe the wonders of this place, as she watched the colorful dawn, with bright oranges and soft purples, a perfect view from the balcony of the queen’s bedroom.

Bare slender arms wrapped around her body and a head came to rest on her shoulder. Zahyla’s hand found its way through locks of white hair, as soft lips greeted her with a kiss.

“Why are you awake so early, my love ?” Ayrenn’s voice still carried a tone of sleepiness. She traced the lines of Zahyla’s tattoo. “Is it another one of your hero missions, hm ? Another daedra invasion ? A threat to all of Tamriel ?”

“No, not this time. Thanks Meridia.” She chuckeld.“This one was just thinking… Summerset is beautiful, just like every tale she read about it. But it doesn’t feel home. Zahyla feels like she doesn’t belong sometimes. So many altmers around, people like this one. Yet, none of them treats me like part of their people.” She took Ayrenn’s hand, and brought it to rest on her own cheek. “Tell this one, dear, will she be forever seem as the weird altmer who acts like a khajiit ?”

“Khajiit or altmer, you’re a hero to everyone in the Aldmeri Dominion, my dear. If they can’t see it, they’re blind.” She planted a kiss to Zahyla’s cheek. The taller elf let out a content hum, and pulled Ayrenn into a tight hug. She was big enough to embrace the queen in such a way that it was almost impossible to see her behind strong arms and a red mane of hair. “You know, for someone who is feared and respected by even daedra, you’re a big softie.”

A kiss to Ayrenn’s forehead. Another on the tip of her nose. A third to her lips.

“Since we’re already awake, what do you think about watching the sunrise, my love ?”

[casdiara-thestoryteller]

Zahyla is now the Hero of Kvatch too cause I have 0 self control

[lesbian-lorkhan]

Yo wtf

My graphics ???? Just ?? went to shit ?

[lesbian-lorkhan]

TESfemslash week Day 2

Magic

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Blank pages, two stacks of books and a quill. 

“Ahk always asks herself why couldn’t old Shalidor write in a know language. Nordic, who knows!” Ahkarajii said. It had been hours since Valaste and her began the hard work of translating a special tome Shalidor left for them in Eyevea’s library. Except the nord mage had written it in some unknown idiom neither of them had ever seen before.

Valaste chuckled as Ahk continued to mutter complaints. She had long lost account of all the days they had spent together exploring the secrets of this ancient island. Pleasant mornings studying the many rare plants and their magical properties. Warm afternoons swimming in the more private corners of the place. Chill evenings studying as many books as they could find. She smiled at the lovely memories.

Valaste’s mind was taken out of this sweet moment when her eyes scanned an specific word in the middle of a thousand ones. Var. The word echoed in her mind. She traced the letters with the tip of her fingers. 

She remembered hearing this word before. Ahk’s sister, Zahyla, would mutter something to do with it before certain battles. She had said it to Ahkarajii when the khajiit had to fight Haskill.

“Fusozay var dar.” She hand’t noticed she said it outloud.

“What ?” Ahk’s ears shot up at the sound of such phrase leaving Valaste’s lips. 

“Zahyla said it to you once. Fusozay var dar.” Valaste instinctively held one of Ahk’s hands as she talked.

“Yes, yes, kill without qualm. This one’s sister always says this. Khajiit never understood why.”

“What var means ?”

“Oh, it’s life.”

Valaste’s eyes widened and shone as she quickly turned back to the book.

“Fahlbthar is something like unbind in dwemeris. Nagaia is Ayleidoon for death. Var is life in ta’agra.”

“Ahk does not follow, dear.”

“It’s a pattern.” Valaste explained excitedly, lacing her fingers with Ahk’s. “Dwemeris, Ayleidoon and then Ta’gra. Unbind, death and life. One of the paragraphs had a word akin to gem. Perhaps something about soul gems ?”

Ahkarajii stared in shock. She let go of Valaste’s hand, rubbed her eyes and leaned over the book. How did she miss so many words written in her own language ? She had to reminds herself to stop reading when tired. 

“I am in love with a genius!” Ahk laughed and turned to Valaste. With a swift movement, she put her hands on either sides of the elf’s face and pulled her into a passionate kiss. Valaste melted against her as hands caressed her cheeks. 

[lesbian-lorkhan]

So

Zahyla -> Lorkhan

That would mean Serana -> Kyne

interesting

[lesbian-lorkhan]

Zahyla as both Vestige and HOK is incredible

"Oh yeah some Mehunes Dagon cult is trying to fuck shit up"

Zahyla, remembering the whole Veiled Heritance situation: Again ??