A loud knock echoed through the ruins, Renoir and Glade weren't the only two that heard it that time. The lycan started growling, her only way of communicating her displeasure at the noise, a warning that something unwanted was in her pack's territory. Applejack looked like she was about to ask something, but the vampire gave a silencing gesture, and earned the Element of Honesty's curiosity. There was the sound of scattering and falling dining utensils, like something clumsy was making its way through the kitchen. Whatever it was slammed into the door, which only opened away from the dining hall, it did nothing but hurt itself.

Renoir had a small smile on his face as he left his seat, the werewolf he was sitting next to, however, couldn't contain her scowl. Glade's feral feature only emphasized her distaste in the situation, but a hoof on her shoulder kept her seated. The eight ponies watched as the vampire walked to the quaking door, they saw him flip a small latch on the bronze surface, and the exit fly open. A wicked, hobbled creature stumbled in, and gazed around the room with blind, cataract-filled eyes, its large ears twitched in the sides of its relatively large head. Rarity had to suppress her urge to scream at the grisly sight.

Pinkie, however, gasped in excitement at seeing something new and interesting.

The tainted elf jumped to the sound's source, and Renoir would have intercepted, had a certain farmer not taken the duty upon herself. Applejack was one of Equestria's most athletic ponies, and she more than knew how to throw her weight around. Falmer are strong for their size, but horses, and ponies by extension, are stronger. The only real problem the Element of Honesty had with the blind elf was trying to detain instead of kill it. Luckily, it was unarmed, otherwise there would have been a need to treat one or more of the ponies for poisoning.

The vampire was the first to her assistance, and using his deceptive strength, Renoir quickly pulled the Falmer from under the orange pony.

“All of you, pay attention.” The mage held the elf out, like it was nothing more than a tool to hammer in a lesson. “This is a Falmer, a degenerate descendent of the extinct Snow Elves. Anyone care to wager why it's blind?” Before any of the ponies could raise a point, to try to get him to stop his morbid display of the subdued subject, Renoir continued with his lesson. “The Dwemer blinded them, and living underground for so long has twisted their form and rotted their collective little minds.” The Breton seemed to regard the Falmer with a bit of sadness and pity, as though he knew personally their suffering. “Ancient writing tells us that they once had a mighty empire in Skyrim, but have been reduced to deadly vermin, skulking through empty corridors that will never again know occupation.”

With the twist of an arm, the vampire snapped his captive's neck.

@#@#@#@#@#@#

They had three hours until sunrise, maybe four, but that was the absolute most. Reman and Lynette had been trudging through the Pale on horseback, but their stolen mount was quickly tiring, it would not be long until they would have to abandon it. Masser provided much of the light, Secunda's waning crescent did little to provide any illumination. Still, the moons made the snowy hills and mountain passes seem ghostly with their pale glow. Perhaps that was where the Hold found it name. Despite her time in the frozen country, Lynette would never adapt to its frigid nature.

The two had been traveling in silence, as though any noise would alert every hungry beast and desperate criminal in the area, a laughable thought in these conditions. Still, the archer kept her crossbow loaded and ready, and she couldn't help but notice her friend was just as tense. The Breton's body jerked forward as the horse came to a sudden stop, she turned to get and answer from her companion.

“We're leaving the horse here, the lake isn't much farther.” Reman's boots were crunching snow before he even finished his sentence, and Lynette was quick to follow.

“I don't see why we can't just take it with us.” It wasn't that she couldn't make the walk, the archer just didn't understanding why they weren't using the easiest method of transportation available.

“We're only half a mile away.” The Imperial stopped to allow his companion to catch up, the knee-deep snow was hard enough to maneuver through without having to run. It was cold enough that it hurt to breathe, at least Reman's armor covered most of his body, a quality that Lynette's leather couldn't match. The woman's face was practically blue from the frigid wind, this was why the werewolf had recommended that she bring a thick cloak. Things would be fine, so long as they arrived quickly, the lake was just over the next hill.

“Where did you go?” The Breton was asking that out of nowhere, though she could have been more specific, she likely meant to ask where he had gone after being infected.

“I ended up in Hammerfell, walked through the Alik'r, and took a ship to Anvil.” Making conversation would speed the trip, even if the distance that remained was so very short. Just as the Imperial had hoped, Lynette was noticed the mistake in his story.

“Then how did you end up in Skyrim?” The archer was no fool, she knew exactly what Reman was doing, and understood his reasoning for it. She absolutely hated the snow, it was nice when it didn't freeze boots to the ground, but this was too much. She could tell that the lycan was about to continue, but what they saw on the hill's crest stopped them both. The lake's ice was glowing in the moonlight, its dark ruin sat in the center, easily visible against the bright background.

“Well, let's get inside, no sense freezing out here.”

@#@#@#@#@#@#

Dinner wasn't exactly edible after the macabre display, and everypony did their best to give the vampire a wide berth. Twilight was back to her book, Dash was watching the door, Pinkie was off playing with Gummy and Spinny, Rarity was back to working with Reman's clothing, and Applejack was taking the time to sample local beverages. Which, of course, meant that she was busy drinking the hard cider that was is stock. While tasty, it couldn't compare to her family's, but that was just her opinion, and she admitted that bias was possible.

Luna, Fluttershy, Glade, and Renoir, however, were in the animonculory, just shooting the breeze about nothing in particular.

“I've been wondering about something.” Fluttershy was oddly confident around the vampire, perhaps because they were both healers of a sort, perhaps not.

“Ask away.” The mage was busying himself by tossing a ball in the air and catching it when it came down, a repetitive and useless task that served absolutely no purpose other than to occupy his time. At least it managed to hold a portion of his mind while waiting for Reman to show, of course, there was no guarantee that he would arrive that night.

“How did you and Reman meet?” The Element of Kindness thought that the story may have been a Friendship Report that Twilight couldn't compete with, no offense to her. She had no idea just how wrong she was.

“That's a funny story, actually.” Renoir chuckled a bit as he recalled the tale, which wasn't really funny in the traditional sense. In truth, it was a terrible story that should never be repeated, especially not to innocents like the three ponies that sat in front of the man. He was about to begin, but a knock on one of the ruins many doors interrupted him. “I wonder what that was.”

“Another Falmer?” Luna really didn't want to see another one of the vile things, not that she couldn't take care of a few of them. But when Glade perked up at the noise, the Princess of Night had a feeling about the sound, and it wasn't necessarily a good one. The vampire's smile was the final nail in the coffin, and she fully understood what was happening.

“Not quite.” Renoir hopped down from his perch, an oddly noiseless action given the floor's material. The Breton began the short trip from the animonculory to the ruin's front foyer, followed by the three mares. Three knock sounded from the front door, followed a short pause, then two more. It was obvious at that point what was happening, but more importantly, who was at the door. A particularly hard impact indicated two things: the person knocking was very strong, and getting very impatient.

“How cold is it outside?” Luna knew that Reman was waiting to be let in, but she was curious about the ambient temperature. It should be noted that none of them made a move to open the door.

“With windchill, I'd say it's a fair bit below zero.” Another hard knock almost dislodged the the bronze door, and Reman was yelling through it, though his words were muffled by the metal. Renoir rolled his eyes and dug out his key, in his mind, there was nothing wrong with the weather. Granted, his body was about as resistant to the cold as the average Nord. The key was made of steel, and it was obvious that the Dwemer had no hand in its forging. In half of a second, the door was unlocked, and Reman and a strange woman practically floundered into the ruins. Upon righting himself, the Imperial put the outsider's needs before his own, and made a simple request.

“She really needs a fire.”

@#@#@#@#@#@#

“So Renoir, I trust you have an answer for me.” Reman was sipping from a glass of steaming hot water, trying to warm his bones. The vampire, the alicorn, the animal lover, and the equine lycan were in a small chamber, sitting around a small incinerator. Glade was sitting in her forebear's lap, quite pleased to see him again, and her earlier predicament was seemingly forgotten.

“You aren't wondering why Glade is transformed?” That certainly struck Luna as odd, the Imperial was usually very concerned with the pegasus' well being. Much to the royal pony's surprise and annoyance, the werewolf laughed at her question.

“Every werewolf in my strain, most strains really, has a monthly transformation, males are when Secunda is waxing, females when waning.” Reman shrugged, he understood what was happening perfectly, if Luna couldn't, then that was her problem. “It's probably just her time of the month.”

“You really could have worded that a bit better.” The vampire groaned at his friends ignorance, the lycan could be a genius at times, but the man really dropped the ball sometimes. To his cregit, Reman quickly realized his mistake, though he felt no need to apologize or rephrase his statement. “But, as you asked, before we were so rudely interupted,” Renoir cast a look to the dark blue alicorn, “your earlier thoughts were correct.”

“Are you talking about what I think you're talking about?” The Princess was amazed that the Imperial had prior knowledge of Glade's pregnancy, but had said nothing about it. That's not really the sort of thing to be kept from somepony. At least the lycan seemed to react to the evidence, and that it was no longer just a hunch he had about his pack-mate's behavior.

“They know already?” Renoir nodded to his friend's question, not really expecting the slight amount of anger present in the man's voice. He wasn't scared, of course, the vampire was stronger than Reman in his normal form.

“Only Luna and... I'm sorry, but I don't believe I know your name.” The mage looked at the yellow pegasus, wholly expecting an answer from the shy mare. He had an idea, his friend's letter had give the ponies' names, but he really needed confirmation. That, and he knew that looking in an angry werewolf's eyes was a challenge, and he wanted nothing to do with that.

“I'm Fluttershy.” The Element of Kindness knew that she was being used as a distraction, and given the current situation, she didn't mind in the least. This entire display was thoroughly confusing to Glade, but she understood enough to know that everyone knew more about it than she did, and it related to her. The winged werewolf cursed her inability to speak, so she pulled a solution out of the air. Reman flinched when he felt the mare's tongue drag across his neck, immediately, he looked down at her.

“Right, this is going to be difficult for me to word.” The Imperial was having trouble with it, and he really didn't know how to say what needed to be let out. This wasn't the sort of thing that someone can prepare for, and the entire time he was separated from the group, Reman had been silently hoping that Glade's vomiting was a freak case of indigestion or something. “Remember the last night we spent at Twilight's house?”

The lycan nodded, of course she remembered. It was one of the scariest times of her life, and one of her best nights, the mare couldn't really forget something like that. With that memory came a slight hint at what the three magic wielders had been discussing. With a curious and worried look on her face, Glade made a whimper, the best signal she could make for her forebear to continue.

“You must also recall the night's events, right?” The lycan nodded again, feeling as though she had already been over that, but she quickly remembered that she hadn't said a word since sundown. “Well, as it turns out, we aren't exactly, um, incompatible.” When the changed pegasus cocked her head slightly, Renoir took it as a chance to help his friend in this predicament.

“Werewolves, by their very nature, are shapeshifters, and it is very easy for them to continue their bloodlines.” When that failed to register with the winged hound, Luna decided that it was her turn to take the reigns, submitting her own method of breaking the news to the former guardspony.

“As they were saying, there can be certain outcomes when passion takes corporeal grasp over the body, one such being the inception of this discourse.” The expression was archaic by Tamriellic standards, which said quite a bit about the pony speaking. Perhaps it was denial at this point, but Glade still didn't understand what they were trying to get to her. Seeing no other option, Reman decided to just cut Fluttershy out of the equation and tell his pack-mate himself.

“Glade, there are effects for the cause we provided that night before we began our way to the Middle Plains.” Because the mare's back was still pressed again the man's chest, it was easy for the werewolf to do what he saw fit. The Imperial placed a hand on the lycan pegasus' flat stomach, the muscle over it was taut, and did nothing to hint at what it contained. “What I'm trying to say is, after whatever your species' gestation period is, you and I are going to be parents.” Reman had been prepared for many responses, a fair number of them involved the mare fleeing from the room.

However, a hoof to the face wasn't in his list of possibilities.