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Chapter Text

Erik had always dreamed of adventure. The wide road ahead of him, his foe’s blood on his blade and sultry maidens bringing him pints of ale after a long day of raiding forgotten ruins. He wanted to see the world, taste danger and explore the many curves and nooks the female body had to offer. Surely, there were helpless women out there just waiting to be saved by a dashing young adventurer, and in return give him a bit of their sweet gratitude…

Erik was an earnest, but naive lad. And a virgin.

The sleepy hamlet of Rorikstead offered little in the ways of amusement. Aside from long walks and listening to the bard’s songs at his father’s inn, Erik had few means of spending what little free time he had. Thus, he mostly kept to himself. And masturbated like crazy whenever he had the opportunity.

The shed was filled with the smell of hay, a few straws got into his red hair. His cock was firmly in his grasp, palms greasy from troll fat salve mixed with a pinch of fire salts. The mixture made the whole shaft feel pleasantly itchy. He was breathing faster with every jerk. His other hand was gently rubbing his scrotum. He wasn’t in a hurry, father was busy sharing local rumors with some wayward traveler. Erik had plenty of time to spare.

Underneath his eyelids was a vision. She was sitting on a stool, a bucket with a wash cloth placed next to her slender calf. Her rich skin was glimmering in the candlelight, soapy water dripping lazily from her jet-black hair onto soft breasts and belly, sinking into the silky black underbrush beneath. This wasn’t a fantasy, but a tender memory that always made him cum like a breeding steed. As a little boy, no more than three years old, he walked in on one of the guests at his father’s inn taking a bath. The woman was a Redguard slowly entering middle-age. When she noticed him peeping, she burst into laughter and beckoned to come closer. She lovingly stroked his flushed cheek and then sat him on her lap. To this day, Erik remembered the smell of the woman’s hair and her hard, dark nipple tickling his cheek. The Redguard was smiling and rocking him in her wet, warm embrace… He was too young to feel anything else than safety and blissful glee. Had he been there now, as a strapping young man…

There it was, that sudden mist before his eyes! His hand clenched tighter around his sack, whilst the other focused on the tip of his penis. Thick veins emerged on his neck and shaft. With a grunt that fell into a cry he came all over his abdomen and thighs. His body tensed, then relaxed as sticky streams marked his body. Semiconsciously, he muttered ‘Mara, save me!’ whilst his cloudy cum was sinking into his rough red pubic hair.

For a moment he kept on mechanically stroking his cock, eyes set somewhere into the distance. Finally, he reached for a piece of cloth, wiped the sweat from his brow and neck, then tenderly cleansed himself of the troll fat salve and cum. He never felt shame because of what he was doing in the privacy of the shed. Or his room. Or his father’s wine cellar. Or behind the thick bushes near the mill. He felt good and relaxed afterwards. Still, he longed to share his body with someone.

“Erik!” It was Mralki, his father calling him. “Where are you boy? The sheets for the guests won’t change themselves!”

“Coming, pa!” He called back, wiping his hands, oblivious of the pun he just made. He fastened his belt and tossed the cloth behind as he was exiting the shed.

Chapter Text

Once inside the inn, he noticed a Redguard woman sitting at the counter. Erik could only see her back. And there was a lot of her back to see, as she was wearing next to nothing to cover it. His father was generously pouring mead into her tankard whilst making idle chatter. Beside the tankard was a plate with salmon and grilled leeks. She must have paid up front and generously, as Mralki was in an obviously good mood.

“Aye, with the war ongoing, dragons are the last thing Skyrim needs… Ah, there you are!” Father said as he noticed him. “Prepare the room for the lady, she’ll be staying here tonight. And by the Eight, make sure the bed is made properly this time” he reminded sternly.

The woman looked over her shoulder and smiled. The white of her teeth was a sharp contrast to her dark skin. Her right eye was milky white and opaque, the other dark green.

“Don’t worry lad, I won’t bite you if the sheets are a bit wrinkly.” She promised, blinking her blind eye.

Erik suddenly felt his mouth was completely dry. The woman was clearly an adventurer herself! Though a Redguard, she was wearing armor fashioned after Nord heroes of old. The armor fitted her perfectly, complimenting her wide hips, strong legs and what he could only guess, ripe rump.

“I’ll see to it then,” he somehow managed to mumble and quickly retreated, feeling a sudden bulge growing in his pants.

Inside the room, he gathered all his strength to calm down the beast inside him. “Not here, not now!” He sternly told himself, trying to ignore the images his mind kept painting before his eyes. Did Erik notice little colorful beads decorating the few braids that fastened her hair on the back of her head? Did he see the deep line between her breasts, as she bend back and drank her mead? And by the Divines, her smell… The smell of steel and sweat shed by a healthy body.

He made the bed, prepared a jug of water, a clean cup and a plate of apples. On the nightstand he placed a folded cloth and a small bar of soap. He also brought a bucket of hot water. These small details made the Frostfruit Inn memorable among travelers, who paid generously for their stay. Though with the ongoing war travelers were few and far between.

With a sigh, he turned to leave the room. This was his life - making beds and cleaning rooms. And when he wasn’t busy at the inn, he was occupied with tending the humble crops he and his father grew. Oh, how he longed to free himself of such mundane tasks…!

“Ah! Such luxury! But I’m not a noble, you know?” The green-eyed woman expressed, standing at the door. She was still clutching her tankard and smiling, no… leering. For a second Erik felt a hole in his belly. He envied her! He longed to be like her! Carefree and… alive. Going wherever she pleased, righting wrongs, fighting the good fight, feeling the wind in her hair… Hear beautiful black hair…

“I’m… just going to leave you ma’am” he stuttered, trying to maneuver himself between her and the doorframe. Unfortunately, he forgot about the treacherous dragon raising its head underneath the fabric of his pants. It brushed against the Redguard’s thigh, giving away his shameful secret.

“Ooh… Is this service extra?” She asked as little sparkles danced in her green eye.

“By the Gods, I…” he managed to utter, but she had no interest in listening. She pinned him against the wall with her chest and slid her knee between his legs, gently enough not to hurt him. Fruitlessly, Erik tried to apologize, but she paid him no mind, drinking the rest of her mead in one loud gulp, then tossing the tankard in the corner. Her thigh was steadily sliding back and forth between his legs, making his erection even more hopeless. No woman had ever teased him like that. To be honest, no woman had ever touched him below the waist.

“Ma’am, please…”

“Hush, boy” she purred, tickling the side of his neck with her nose. Erik felt the warmth of her breath and a faint smell of honey. His nascent stubble brushed against her ear. Then, came a short pinch of pain, as she bit his neck. He could only sigh aggravated by her aggressive advances. But they weren’t alone, he had to get back to work. And this was so sudden and wrong after all… Right?

“Erik! Come help me with the guests!” Mralki called, dispelling whatever was happening. The adventurer peeled herself from the lad with a disappointed frown. Her leg finally stopped rubbing his groin.

“Pity. But duty calls, eh?” She said with a sigh.

“I’m… sorry.” Erik felt the heat of embarrassment on his cheeks.

“Don’t be! You’re a young lad. It happens sometimes.” She dismissed casually as if a moment ago she wasn’t sinking her teeth into his flesh.

“Goodnight!” He excused himself, turning around to get back to work. Just as he felt the excitement pass, there was a pat on the shoulder. “Yes?” He asked timidly, looking over his shoulder.

“What’s your name, boy?” She asked with eyes half-shut and a smirk. She had long eyelashes and curved lines painted in the corners of her eyes.

“Erik, ma’am” he answered truthfully.

“Ah, sweet dreams then, Erik.” She bid him, sitting on the bed and struggling to take her heavy boots off. Yet, he was still standing there with a tense look on his face. “Was there something else?” She inquired finally kicking them off.

“Are you an adventurer?” He asked, nervously rubbing his sweaty palms. There was a strange longing… craving in his eyes.

“Of course! I am Aza, after all! The most adventurous adventurer in all of Tamriel! Why do you ask, lad?”

“I…”

“Erik! The lady is tired, don’t bother her with your nonsense!” His father scolded, suddenly appearing behind him. “Good night, ma’am!” He bid his gest, pulling Erik out of the room. With a last glance the lad caught the sight of the woman blowing him a kiss with an amused grin on her face.

That grin was enough to get him hard again.

“I got to go to bed, pa.” He said feverishly, praying his father wouldn’t notice a the sudden flush on his cheeks.

“Why, what’s wrong?” Mralki asked, concerned.

“Stomach ache. Goodnight!” Erik excused himself, practically bolting.

Once safely in his room he braced himself against the door, hastily undoing his pants. With just a few quick strokes he came again, covering his mouth in case father comes by and hears his frantic breathing.

Squeezing out the last drop, he slid to the floor; his legs too weak to support him. Hazily, he pressed his sweaty forehead to his shaking knees, waiting for the pounding in his chest to pass.

This was bad. Very bad.

Chapter Text

After a night of uneasy sleep, Erik woke up in a dark mood and full-blown erection.

“Oh, would you give it a rest?” He asked angrily, staring at the bulge formed under the sheets.

His cock demanded his immediate attention. With a defeated sigh he grabbed the selfish creature by its long neck and started offhandedly stroking it up and down… up and down… His mind was elsewhere, though. His thoughts drifted away from Rorikstead, far beyond Whiterun hold. He was in the fabled land of Out There, where he wasn’t Erik the Hoe-Pusher or Erik the Room-Cleaner, but Erik… Erik…

“Erik the Cock-Choker!” He muttered seconds before ejaculating thick and hot streams of morning cum. Blowing his load didn’t bring him the usual ecstatic glee, though. Instead, it was just a temporary truce between him and his attention-hungry member. He hoped their guest leaves soon, so he can shake off whatever curse she put on him last night. The tip of his swollen penis was flashy red, as if filled with rage because its master had lost interest in it. Reluctantly, it laid its head to rest. The lad quickly rinsed himself with cold water, got dressed in his Sundas best and went down to get something to eat before starting his daily routine.

On his way to the pantry he bumped into no one other than the famous (in her own opinion, at least) Aza. Her breasts, safe and protected by the sturdy, yet scantly armor, brushed his shoulder conjuring shivers down his spine.

“Did you sleep well, ma’am?” He asked casually, trying to back away. As if sensing his uneasiness, she wrapped her arm around his waist and pulled him closer. Their hips clashed, his eyes met with hers.

“Everything beats sleeping on the bare ground, lad. Did you sleep well? Had any pleasant dreams?” She asked with a disturbing grin, as her hand wandered dangerously close to his buttocks. Erik squirmed out of her grasp, slamming his back against the wall. The woman laughed, pleased on the effect she had on him.

Did she know what torture she caused him last night? That she-dremora! He couldn’t find the proper word for what she was doing to him, but he was sure it was something that men did to helpless young maidens, not the other way around. She was enjoying herself, whilst he felt so… unclean. Even though he didn’t do anything! Anything at all!

“I’ll be outside, bring me meat and a cold drink. And maybe something sweet for dessert? Yeah, some fruit will do.” She ordered nonchalantly, leaving boy to his humiliation.

Erik had the strange feeling she planned to stick around for longer.

---

“Rabbit!” Aza exclaimed when he laid the plate before her. She chose to dine at one of the tables behind the inn. “I love rabbit! Leaving so soon? Sit! I could use some company. I hadn’t spoken to a living soul in days!” She urged, seeing that Erik was about to leave. He knew this wouldn’t end well for him, yet he sat on a bench opposite to the Redguard. It was still early, the morning mist flew at a snail's pace over the plains.

“So, you want to get out of here and find fame and fortune?” She innocently asked, chewing off a piece of rabbit leg and washing it down with ale.

“Yes!” He admitted enthusiastically. His whole face lit up, making him look even younger.

“Roam the wilderness, explore caves and forgotten ruins, right?”

“Yes!” He nodded energetically.

“Fall into an Orc ambush and get raped in the ass all night long by three restless Berserkers?”

“Y… what?” He was so dumbfounded by her sudden question, that he forgot to close his mouth. Aza finished her rabbit and ale, then reached for a pear he brought for dessert.

“Life out there is nothing what you hear in the bard songs.” She said, taking a bite. Ripe juice dripped down her fingers and wrist but she paid no mind. “You’re on your own, you eat poorly or nothing at all, food poisoning is common. You sleep uneasy and uncomfortably. You go for days without a decent bath, sometimes you even catch lice…” she paused to spit out a seed. “If you’re stupid or careless you get fucked. Literally and figuratively. And there is always someone out for your head, your stuff… your ass. So think twice, lad. You got a real sweet deal here, do you want to leave it all behind for some juvenile dream?“ She asked, peering into Erik’s eyes, with seriousness he wouldn’t expect of her.

“I…” Erik mustered up all his will “I still want to do it.” He wanted it more than anything! Becoming an adventurer was his dream! She wasn’t going to scare him off.

“You’re either stupid or stubborn. Probably both.” She concluded. “You should get up and storm out now, you know?”

“Well, that’s exactly what I was going to do!” He said angrily. But though Erik was serious about leaving, the sudden warmth and pressure on his groin stopped him. By the Gods, she somehow managed to slip her feet out of her boots and was now giving him a dirty massage! And she had some nimble toes.

“Did I catch your attention?” Aza’s face was somehow the picture of innocence, though her feet moved with cool professionalism.

“Stop it, someone could see.” He pleaded, trying not to pant. He dug his nails into the tabletop, feeling red flushing his cheeks.

“That’s the fun part, boy. Now undo your pants. I want to feel your foreskin.” She ordered, laying back on the bench. With the sudden move, her breasts jiggled merrily.

“No.” He said, trying to keep his voice calm. He wanted to slap her in the face, bend her over the table and… Do things the Orcs did. Only harder. For a moment this sudden dark thought made him feel incredibly aroused… and guilty immediately afterwards.

“Oh, why is that? Not the foot type, are you? Then maybe I should crawl under the table and give you a nice blowjob? Or a boobjob? Come on, I don’t believe you don’t want to feel my tits squeezing your cock. And I can do wonders with my tongue. I could fit your whole shaft in my mouth without a blink.” Her good eye flickered.

He had no reasons not to believe her. She’d do that. Perhaps a lot more. Playing with him would give ger a lot of satisfaction. Seducing a simple farmboy during one of her adventures would surely count as a small triumph for her. And with that sudden realization, his mind cleared and his blood cooled.

“I would love that. Really. But the answer is still no. It’s too humiliating.” And with that, he gently slid her feet of him. Divines, he wanted it, he wanted to shove his dick so deep down her throat that her eyes would get all watery. And then he would cum giving her no pause to catch her breath and make her swallow every last drop. But in the back of his head there was adamant certainty he would feel even worse afterwards.

“Oh…” For the first time the Redguard forgot her tongue. She picked her boots from under the table and put them back on in no apparent hurry.

“I mean it!” Erik assured, trying to keep his confidence from fleeing. He gave her a daring look, almost positive that she was going to beat him into a bloody pulp now. But she did no such thing.

“I know you do” her voice suddenly softened. “Okay… If you really want to make it big, I can help you convince your pa.”

“Y… you can?” He asked, blinking with disbelief. Aside from his complete inexperience, Mralki’s disapproval was the biggest obstacle keeping him from fulfilling his dream.

“I can be quite convincing. Trust me. Now, that shed your father owns… If you’re that desperate, you’ll meet me there tonight, after everyone goes to sleep. And once inside… there will be no turning back, little hero. You’ll be mine and do exactly what I tell you, understood? And if you don’t show up… You won’t see me in the morning. You’ll forget everything and go back to your comfortable and dull life.”

“But…!” He was about to express his doubt, but her raised palm stopped him.

“No, you shut up now and think it over. Toss it around in your head. Either come see me in the shed or don’t. Whatever you do, I’m happy. Helping you is just my whim. Nod if you understand.” Erik nodded hesitantly. “Good. Now take those dirty dishes and leave me be.” Aza’s voice grew impatient. She rested her crossed legs on the table and stared at the clear sky. The lad took the plate and tankard and went back inside the inn.

“Crazy wench!” He thought.

“Definitely a virgin.” She thought.

Chapter Text

Erik’s mind was set the moment the dirty dishes landed in the wash. He’s going to do it. After all, what’s the worst that could happen? It’s not like she will burn his skin and then peel it straight off him, right? Although… this Aza was completely unpredictable. He knew she will be waiting for him in the privacy of the shed, ready to toy with him some more. It was the uncertainty of what could… no, what will happen afterwards, that made his insides twist.

His genitals acted completely irrational. His balls shrunk as if waiting for a devastating blow, whilst his penis simultaneously swell, then went limp in short intervals. He lost his appetite, save for gallons of water he felt the compulsion to drink during the entire day. His bladder didn’t take long to respond. The waiting! The unbearable waiting! Whatever she had in store for him… let it come, just make that edgy feeling go away! Yet, the sun had no intention of setting faster and easing his troubled mind.

He hadn’t seen her for the rest of the day. He was certain she was laying low somewhere… Plotting… Or maybe she was watching him? He was jumpy, the faintest noise or movement made him look over his shoulder. He felt her eyes all over his body. Thankfully, he managed to pull himself together, so that he could finish all his chores on schedule.

Finally, after what seemed like days, not hours, night entered Rorikstead. Erik laid fully dressed in his bed, contemplating the cracked ceiling. When he was certain everyone was asleep, he slipped out of his room, crept downstairs and snuck out of the inn through the backdoor. He crossed the small courtyard and stood before the shed. On a hunch he pressed his ear to the wooden door. He heard nothing. Maybe she was bluffing after all? Maybe she left? No, she wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to torture him a bit more. He pushed the door and entered.

The shed was dark and still. After his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he could faintly distinguish silhouettes of objects around him, mostly hay stacks and tools. He made a few steps forward with outstretched arms, trying to find something to support himself against. After a few steps, his hands were filled with two round and warm shapes. Arms closed on his elbows and pulled him closer. She was here.

“Oh, naughty boy, not yet!” She giggled, pulling his palms away from her heavy breasts. She was topless. For a second he felt her hard nipples touching his palms.

Before Erik could respond, she stirred him to the side and pushed to the ground. He tripped and landed ass-first on a pile of hay. A moment later, warm light illuminated the interior as the woman lit a lantern, carefully placing it on an up-side-down kettle. For a moment, Erik was blinded by the sudden luminance. When he could see everything clearly, he cautiously looked around.

Aza was busy making the shed cozy and dividing it into two sections; stacks of hay fashioned like a king-sized bed with a blanket pulled over them, and a short platform formed of wooden planks and hay. A scene and an audience. He was on the stage, naturally. And on the piles of hay laid the Redguard wretch. She made herself comfortable, wearing nothing but a smile.

“So… what do you plan to do with me?” Erik asked, pulling his knees up to his chin. This was bad. Very, very, bad. But there was no turning back, she made the rules clear.

“I’m going to make you weep. Then, I’m going to make you cum like there’s no tomorrow.” She promised with a cruel smile.

“You’re sick!” He snapped, crawling away, until his back met with a wall. He was cornered.

“You agreed to come here on your own, boy. I didn’t force you, it was your choice. Now, we’re going to play a game.”

“What game?”

“Show me yours and I’ll show you mine. You go first. Strip!”

Erik bit his tongue. So, this was going to be another dirty, humiliating torture. But he had nothing to lose, she already plucked him of his dignity. Yet, he will withstand anything she has in stock for him. He won’t give her the pleasure of embarrassing him any further. He stood up and started throwing his clothes off with a blank expression. His hands didn’t tremble for even a second. The slowly building up rage made his senses sharper, his movement faster, more precise.

“No!” She scolded as he was undoing his belt. “Slowly. I want to savor the moment.”

“Having a good time?” He talked back, undoing his belt much slower, just like she wanted. The heavy buckle hit the floor with a hollow ring. He kicked his shoes off, then let his pants slip down.

“You should be thankful I’m not making you dance. The loin cloth. Slowly.”

Maintaining eye contact with the Hammerfell harlot, Erik slowly pulled the loose end of his undergarment. With no trace of shame, he tossed it aside and stood in front of her, legs slightly straddled, hands resting firmly on his hips. For the first time in his adult life he stood naked before someone.

Aza was pleasantly surprised. The lad had just recently grown out of his teen years. Life spent on hard work in the humble hamlet made him strapping and healthy. Though he was nothing like the bulky Nord warriors she screwed all over Tamriel, Erik was not delicate. He looked like he could withstand a lot of abuse. His skin was pale, hair red, swept off his face and adorned with a few braids. He had light blue eyes, with that vacant look so characteristic for whelps. Though, at the moment the look in his eyes was strangely sharp and aware. As her eyes slid from his face, down his scarcely hairy chest and abdomen she barely managed to hold the urge to squeal. That dick! It was limp, but by the looks of it, fully erect it could be one of the biggest she could ever have the opportunity to stick in her mouth or pussy! And maybe, with enough salve, she could fit it in her ass?

Erik felt her burning gaze on his lower body. Why was she staring so intensely into his groin? He didn’t like the attention she was giving it. She’s probably going to say something insulting now, make fun of his size.

“Well… maybe it’s small, but it’s cold in here!” He mumbled, slowly losing his newly found confidence.

Aza barely kept herself from grabbing him by the shoulders and giving him a good shake. Too small?! Why, this village idiot had no idea what treasure he was hiding in his pants! Oh, he was going to be more fun than she anticipated. But first things first. She got up from her makeshift bed and faced him, mirroring his stance.

“Look at me closely, lad.” She said, opening her arms. Erik obeyed.

The Redguard was athletic and yet buxom. Her shoulders and hips were broad, stomach flat and muscular. Life of constant travel and danger made her joints long and strong. Her breasts were heavy, yet still perky, the same was with her behind. And all over her body were battle-scars. She even had a few small cuts on her face. Erik wasn’t sure what she wanted him to focus on; her body or the scars.

“This is the first time a naked woman stands before you, right?”

“Wrong.” Erik denied. Before Aza there was another Redguard…

“Really?” She sounded surprised. “How unexpected. Who was she?”

“None of your business!” He growled, crossing his arms. That memory was precious, not for her to ridicule.

“I bet you peeped on her. Never mind. Sit.” She commanded. Erik kneeled down on the platform ready for anything. Aza kicked back in her nest of hay, reaching for a bottle.

“Touch yourself.” She said. “Imagine I’m not here. I want to see how you fuck yourself.”

Erik took a deep breath, closing his eyes. He had no intention of retreating. As he opened them, he spread his knees wide apart. He bent back, supporting himself on his outstretched arm, slowly sliding his other hand down his abdomen. He was never reluctant to pleasure himself… Until now. But this was a game and he had no intention to forfeit. Unhurriedly, he took his slowly thickening cock in his hand.

“Yeah, adventuring is all fun and games until you lose vision in one eye.” Aza joked with a bitter sigh. She chugged from the bottle, seemingly paying him no mind. “But it’s dignity, that you lose first. You want to hear about the Orcs, don’t you? Ah, of course you do!” She exclaimed, not waiting for him to reply. Truth be told, Erik was a bit curious, in that morbid way…

“You’re not enjoying the show?” He asked, pausing to spit in his palm and continuing masturbating. Squishy, moist sounds filled the shed.

“You value yourself too highly! But don’t stop.” She snickered, pretending to ignore him.

His penis was almost fully erect. From where she was resting, she saw thick blue veins pulsing on the smooth shaft. His foreskin slid up and down, covering and uncovering his sleek, flushed glans. The tip was gently pointed, perfect for quick, deep insertions. She caught herself imagining how it would feel inside her. Despite his amazing package, the pup obviously had no technique to speak of, but given enough training…

“So, the Orcs?”

“They love to do it in the ass. It’s got something to do with their tribal society. Only the Chief can have wives and offspring. So, the rest choose anal. Or maybe they only screw outsiders in the ass? I have no idea. Still hurts, though…” She finished with an indifferent sigh, casually caressing the large, dark areola of her nipple. Noticing Erik’s attention, she licked her fingertips and pinched it, tugged a bit, then released making her heavy breast jiggle.

“Do you like my tits?” She asked, playing with her other breast. Her wet fingertips left glossy smudges on her dusky skin.

“They’re big.” Erik admitted.

“I didn’t ask about the size. I asked if you liked them.”

“Yes.” His cock shared the same opinion, as a drop of precum formed at the tip.

“Do you want to play with them? Rub them, take my nipples in your mouth and suck on them?” She inquired further, throwing out her chest. By the Gods, her rack promised heaps of fun.

“I… I do.” He answered truthfully, surprised to hear such eagerness in his own voice.

“Then play with your own first.” Aza conditioned, crossing her arms, covering the tender brown tips of her nipples.

“What? I’m not a girl!” He refused in a high pitch voice.

“Well, you sure act like one.”

“And what about this?” Erik asked, waggling his dick. He didn’t want to give Aza the pleasure of getting provoked by her insults. Though, the remark did hurt his pride a bit. Maybe he had soft features, but he was definitely a man! And he had his throbbing member to prove it.

“Oh, I’m sure it can manage without you for a moment. Come on!” The Redguard groaned impatiently, seeing his reluctance. “What happens tonight will never leave these walls. That I can promise you. Now play with your titties!”

Erik licked his slightly salty fingertips and did what he was told. He bit his tongue, that tickled in a weird way. Aza leaned forward and blew a stream of cold air straight at his chest. His small, pink nipples immediately got hard.

“Hey, stop that!”

“Oh, shut up!” She muttered, pulling him closer, her breasts slamming against his face.

He tried to struggle for air, but Aza held him in place with little effort, cackling like a lunatic. Finally, when he was close to tapping out, she eased her grip.

“You’re crazy!” He gasped, fighting for air. She could kill with those things!

“I get that a lot. Suck.” She purred promiscuously.

Finally, Erik could do something he had no objections against! He stuck out his tongue and tickled one of her nipples. It was fully erect, with slightly rough skin. His lips closed around the hard nub and although he wasn’t the one receiving the caress, his whole spine tingled. He sucked with delighted glee, as his thoughts drifted to his most tender childhood memory. He paid the other nipple the same amount of attention and tenderness. Her breasts were soft, and yet firm. The warmth coming from them pervaded his palms.

“Well, aren’t you sweet…” Aza whispered, caressing his cheek, whilst Erik eagerly sucked her tit, cuddling the other. A moment later, she unceremoniously pushed him away with a yawn, then lounged at the edge of her makeshift bed with a bored look on her cruel face.

“You remember what this game is called, right?”

“Show me yours I’ll show you mine.” The lad recalled.

“Exactly. I already saw yours, so…” Aza shamelessly spread her legs.

Erik held his breath. How could he not notice this before? Her pussy was smooth and hairless, save for a thin strip of shortly trimmed hairs. The slit was closed, yet he could faintly distinguish the puce coloring of her inner lips. Was it his imagination, or did he really see moist glimmering between her labials?

“Mara… I… this…” He knew he had to say something, anything, but the words in his head just couldn’t click into a coherent sentence. She might be a crazy, malicious vagrant who humiliated and toyed with him, but the very sight of her pussy made his heart pump blood straight into his cock with force he had never experienced.

“Erik, you’re a virgin.” The Redguard declared drily.

“That’s none of your business!” The boy shrugged.

“Oh, my precious little flower! Fear not, I won’t rob you of your innocence! Tarnishing it a bit suits me just fine.” She swore mockingly.

“It’s unbelievable how… how… debauched you are.” Erik sighed, bowing his head. Yearning, frustration and disgrace filled his heart. Although he felt excitement like never before, he wasn’t in control of neither the situation nor himself.

“It’s part of my charm.” Aza proclaimed. “Now focus!” She said, unexpectedly reaching down and spreading her labials wide open.

Once again she managed to make Erik’s heart stop, then beat faster. He could never understand why some of the more bawdy bards described women’s privates as having floral characteristics. But seeing how her vulva was widely spread, he couldn’t think of a better comparison. The color shifted from puce into flushed as it reached her vaginal opening. Her round, perky clit was slightly paler than her lips. The petals seemed smooth and tender, he was absolutely positive now, that they were covered with the dew of her juices.

A new, carnal drive shrouded his mind. He wanted it. He wanted to taste that pussy with his tongue and then his cock. He wanted to shove his member down the glossy opening to the limits, then pound mercilessly until he’d cum, flooding her insides with his sperm. Erik wanted to fuck Aza until she’d cry, then pass out. This wasn’t him, but he was too horny to notice.

“Like what you see?”

“Very…” He gasped, swallowing loudly.

“I could stick my fingers inside and play with it a bit.” She proposed, stretching her asset even wider. A droplet of moisture leaked out from within. Erik was on the verge of snapping. He suddenly found himself sweating, a cold drop slid down his spine. His chest heaved, though he felt as if barely mouthfuls of air went into his lungs.

“Do it!” He urged barely audibly; his throat was dry with anticipation.

“You first.” She reminded, the corner of her mouth jerked upward. She felt completely in control, her arrogance made her overlook the sudden sinister spark in his gaze.

“What do you expect me to do?” He asked through clenched teeth. What Aza thought to be embarrassment was in fact slowly budding fury. But she was having too much fun to notice something was wrong.

“Shove a finger up your ass. Who knows, you might even like it.” She said with a wink.

That was the last straw. The dam of self-control in Erik’s mind broke down, flooding him with lust, anger and dark determination. He’s going to get some tonight. He’s finally going to ease his frustration. And he’s going to make her pay for all the humiliation while he’s at it.

“No.” He said disturbingly calmly. Inside him was a storm. His hand reached behind him, finally finding a familiar shape; his belt. He clenched it tightly, knowing that on the other end was the heavy metal buckle.

“Giving up? How disappointing!” Aza snarled.

“I’m not giving up. Just changing the rules…” Erik explained, as his eyes narrowed. Before Aza realized he’d lost it, it was too late.

Erik took a wide swing, striking her straight on the forehead. The Redguard staggered back with a surprised cry. Not giving her a moment to retaliate, he pounced. His knee plunged right into the solar plexus, pushing air out of her lungs. With the wretch stunned, Erik had little trouble turning her over and binding her hands behind her back with the belt.

“Ah… Oblivion take you, I didn’t expect that!” She muttered, as he laid her on her back and pinned down with his knees. Blood lazily dripped down her face from where the buckle hit.

“Shut up, wench! I’m going to make you pay for everything you did to me, you hear me? Everything!” He shouted, slapping her across the face. The tables had finally turned and it was his game now. A game of ‘I’m going to fuck you until you bleed’. The very thought of making her sorry made him gnash his teeth in a vindictive grim.

“Aaah…” Aza moaned in pain. “Sure you will. I deserve it after all. Come on, stud. I know how much you want to put me in my place.” She encouraged.

Erik drew his face close to hers. Sweat dripped from his nose onto her cheek, mixing with the blood. His light blue eyes were burning with primal fever. Her dark green eye was calm, the other as indifferent as a blind eye can be.

“Yes. Yes, I am. And I’m going to show you how.” He whispered.

Given the circumstances, she should be frantic. Yet, the Redguard was passively laying on the hay merely observing him. The look on her face was cool, her breathing slow and deep. There was neither daring nor mockery in her disposition. Only… waiting.

“Go on. It’s not the first time this happens to me. Do whatever it is you please.”

“I didn’t ask for your life story.” Erik mumbled, spreading her legs. He kneeled between them and as he was about to shove his cock into her hole, he realized he had gone completely flaccid.

“What in Oblivion…?” He grunted, rubbing his now useless member.

“It’s okay. Take your time.” She reassured patiently. Her body was relaxed and motionless, eyes set on his face. Her tranquility finally snapped him out of it. He suddenly realized what he had almost done.

“Aza…” He stuttered,. What was he doing?!

“Shh, it’s all right.” She whispered softly.

He cried in shock, pulling himself away. He quickly untied her, then crawled away until his back met with a wall. Who was he just a second ago…?! How could he…? Never mind who she was or how hard she teased him, he wanted to rape her! He hit her! He never hit a girl in all of his life! The blood on her forehead, the red bruise on her cheek… Stendarr forgive him! Erik curled up, eyes tightly shut. He hated his own guts.

“Come here, Erik.” She beckoned.

“N-no…” He sobbed.

“Please…” She pleaded, opening her arms.

Feeling utter disgust towards himself, Erik crawled back straight into Aza’s embrace.

“I’m so sorry… I…” He tried to explain himself, but there was nothing he could say in his defense. He broke into tears soaking her cleavage.

“I know.” She whispered, holding him tighter. “It’s okay now. You passed the test.”

“What test?” He asked, sniffing.

“I pushed you to your limit. You snapped… But you regained control in time.”

“I went limp…!” He cried.

“Exactly.” Aza said, gently caressing his hair.

Erik felt the familiar innocent glee fall over him. For a moment he was once again the toddler in the unnamed Redguard woman’s loving embrace. She rocked him in her arms until he completely calmed down. She wiped her blood off with her forearm. The wound wasn’t serious, a weak healing potion should heal it up in no time.

“I didn’t want to hurt you… really!” He swore, drying his eyes with his palms.

“I know the real you would never do something like that. But that’s not important now. As promised, I’ll talk to your father first thing in the morning. But now…” She purred, rubbing the tip of his nose against his. Her hand, suddenly tickled him just under the navel, then went lower.

“What are you doing?” He asked alarmed. Waking up his penis didn’t seem like a good idea. He didn’t want to have anything to do with the foul thing anymore.

“I think you deserve a little consolation prize. After all, I did go overboard with you. Now relax and enjoy.”

“You shouldn’t… What almost happened here…” He tried to protest.

“Let that be a lesson to you. You control your cock, not the way around. Now shut it, and let me do my thing.”

Aza jokingly nibbled on his nose, then her lips slid down his neck, for a moment pausing at his collarbone to gently bite into his pale skin. Her tongue slid down his chest and abdomen, finally reaching his groin. Her hand worked fast, but gently. As she stroked his cock into full erection, her other hand focused on squeezing his balls.

“Do you want me to suck you cock, Erik?” She asked playfully.

“Yes, yes I do!” He moaned.

Her lips pressed against his crown, then delightfully slowly slid down the whole shaft. Her head moved energetically up and down. Erik felt the warmth and wetness of her mouth with incredible intensity. His cock was squeezed firmly by her lips, cheeks and throat. On an impulse, he sunk his hands into her jet-black hair. His head tilted backwards as he closed his eyes and let his body react as nature intended. Aza eagerly slurped and sucked. Just as she imagined it, his dick was perfect for deep insertions. It gently slid through her mouth, the veins teasing her palate. She felt a bit of precum ooze on her tongue. He was almost there.

“I… I’m gonna come… Ah, Mara!” Erik cried, shooting cum into her eager mouth. His abdomen convulsed spasmodically for a moment, then relaxed. Aza grunted, but managed to swallow most of his load. It was thick and creamy the way only Nord cum could taste. The lad’s mind was blank and blissful. He bowed his head to look at her. She was tenderly licking off last traces of seed from his slowly shrinking cock, caressing his red pubic hair. Finally, she gave the tip one last lick and pulled herself up to meet him face-to-face.

“How’d you like your first blowjob?” She asked, her lips were wet and glossy.

“Amazing…” Erik sighed with relief. He rested his head on her breast and instantly fell asleep. Semi consciously, he wrapped his arms around her waist. Aza held him closer. She was lying on her back, whilst Erik was on his side. Nonchalantly, she was stroking his arm, formulating her plan.

“We’re going to have fun, you and I.” She thought as the boy’s peaceful breathing lulled her to sleep.

Chapter Text

As Aza was a light sleeper, she woke up exactly when she intended to; an hour before sunrise. Erik was sleeping like a log, still clinging to her side. His easy breathing tickled her nipple. At least he didn’t snore like most Nords. Aza slipped out of his embrace with little difficulty. She was a master at sneaking out without waking her bedmates. Erik mumbled something incoherent and rolled on his back, arms and legs spread wide apart. He looked so adorably helpless.

“You poor fool” Aza whispered, ruffling his ginger hair. “You’re going to get killed out there.” Her eyes were set on his half shut lips. “But not if I can help it.”

She got up and surveyed the shed, scratching herself on the crotch. Her gear was stashed away in a bundle in the corner. She stretched, then with a muttered curse picked up an overlooked bottle. She drank what was left with relief. It was time to slip back into her armor. While adjusting her pauldrons, she noticed Erik’s belt. Her brows crossed, but a second later she smiled maliciously, deciding to take it as a souvenir. She left the shed in a good mood, not paying any more attention to the sleeping whelp.

Picking the lock leading to Mralki’s room was so easy, that for a moment she wondered why he had it in the first place. She tiptoed across the room and pulled out her trusty dagger with a pirouette. With a nasty grin that came so natural to her, she jumped her unsuspecting victim. Before Mralki could gasp or scream, she pressed the cold steel against his throat.

“Shh… relax, old man. It’s me, the busty Redguard whose tits you couldn’t take your eyes off.” She whispered softly in the dark.

“T… the gold is in the barrel in the wine cellar!” Erik’s father gurgled, keeping his hands firmly pressed against the sheets. A wise choice.

“Who do you take me for?” The woman puffed offended. “I’m not after your gold! It’s your boy I wanted to talk about.”

“Erik? No, you stay away from my son, you hear me? I’m not letting you hurt him!” Despite the blade on his throat, Mralki’s voice was steady and strong. It was obvious he was attached to his son.

“Hurt him? I intend to save him!” Aza replied, loosening the grip on the dagger a bit. ”I want to spare your poor, precious boy a dull, bleak existence! Do you really want him to clean rooms and plough the field for the rest of his life? He’ll eventually grow to resent you. Then, he’ll start to hate you. And who knows, maybe one night he’ll use the very pillow you rest your head on to smother you to death in your sleep?”

“My son would never…!” Mralki’s voice was boiling with outrage.

“You don’t know your son. He’s sheltered and knows nothing of the real world. But he’s curious… Very curious…” She bit her lip, for a moment remembering the night they spend together. ”And determined to learn. So, I’m going to make you an offer. I’m going to jerk you off and you let me take the lad, or…”

“Or…?”

“Or I’m going to seduce him and take him anyway. And your gold. So, what say you, innkeep?”

Mralki said nothing, his hands slid up her tights and squeezed her firm ass. And there was a lot of ass to squeeze.

“I knew you’d make the right decision…” Aza murmured, sheathing the dagger. She needed both her hands free.

---

The blanket slid off the stacks of hay, pointy straws were pricking his back. Erik sat up, yawned… Wait, this wasn’t his room… The events of last night slammed him in the gut with unrelenting momentum. He… he was molested, snapped, almost assaulted a woman… and got his first blowjob! And it felt good! Jerking off alone seemed like child’s play compared to shooting his cum into a deep and hot throat!

He didn’t need to look around to know he was alone. Aza was gone and from what he suspected, she was far away from Rorikstead… probably for good. Too bad…

He had to hide all traces of what happened in the shed. Quickly, he gathered his clothes and dressed himself. His belt was missing. No matter, he’ll just use a piece of rope to fasten his pants. He quickly tidied up and drank what was left of Aza’s supplies. He trembled as he remembered how her nipples felt in his mouth and how her mouth played with his cock. But he had other things to do than daydream. He had to talk to father, and then… He had no fixed plans for ‘then’.

Stepping out of the shed, Erik welcomed the morning sun. Rorikstead had just awakened, as it did the day before and would continue in an endless chain of bleak tomorrows. But that wasn’t his problem anymore.

Father was in his usual place; behind the bar. He jumped and looked over his shoulder as Erik entered the inn. He looked tired and was awkwardly leaning forward, as if he strained a muscle. His son couldn’t quite figure the look on his face; pained, yet somehow pleased.

“Erik” he said with a frown, making no comment on the fact the lad’s shirt was turned inside-out. “Sit. I think it’s time you and me had a talk…”

---

A few days later Erik and his father were on their way back from Whiterun. As Mralki fought in the Great War, he knew what sort of equipment his boy needed. Despite the upstart’s protest, he insisted Erik got a heavier set of armor. Plain iron, to be more precise.

The road ahead was peaceful, not a bandit nor wild beast in sight, to Erik’s demise. Yet, unbeknownst to him two pairs of eyes were observing them from the nearby broken-down watchtower. Two dark red, one green and one opaque white.

“Him? He doesn’t look like much. I give him less than a week to give up or die.” Jenassa foretold, lazily stretching her back. The edge of her leather skirt rose up, revealing her slim gray thighs.

“Don’t you worry, I’ll make a man out of him!” Aza smirked, searching a recently slain bandit for valuables. A copper ring, few lockpicks and enough gold to buy a watered down drink and maybe some stale food. Not a spectacular find, but still better than nothing. The two did business in the past. This time Aza hired the unscrupulous mercenary to assist her with a bounty. She planned to have the whole issue sorted out in a day or two, then split the loot and get back to playing with Erik.

“You want to turn that milk-drinker into your pet, don’t you?” The elf asked, turning away from the Redguard and peering into the horizon. The two Nords shrunk into tiny dots vanishing in the landscape. Suddenly, she felt Aza’s arms wrapping around her waist and pulling away from the vista.

“I have nothing against milk-drinkers.” The Redguard whispered into her companion’s pointed ear a second before sliding the tip of her tongue alongside its curved edge. “After all, I am a milk-drinker myself.”

“Oh? I would have never guessed that, sera…” Jenassa murmured, as she bend forward, her leather-scanted ass pressing hard against Aza’s pubic bone. With one hand still around the elf’s waist, Aza grabbed the Dunmer’s hair and pulled it back gently, yet firm enough to make Jenassa sigh.

“I’m a big man milk-drinker, my crimson eyed beauty. But I find pleasure in the arms of women as well…” The Redguard’s whisper changed into a purr.

“Ooh… If you wish to make carnal arts with me, sera, you…” The mercenary was about to name her price, but she caved in when Aza bit her ear. “You… You do not have to pay me a broken Septim. Let’s make a masterpiece!”

“I knew you’d be eager to share your talents with me, Jen. On your palms and knees, ass up in the air.” Aza stressed her order by a harder tug, before releasing her companion’s hair.

Jenassa was lithe and agile. Still standing, she bent forward and pressed her palms flat to the stone floor. Aza rolled her skirt up, not surprised that the Dunmer wore no undergarments.

“That’s impressive, now on all fours!” She said, giving her a spank with both hands, leaving dark marks on the elf’s skin.

Obediently, yet with a pout, Jenassa got on all-fours, waiting for the Redguard’s next move. Squatting down, Aza slammed her palms against the Dark Elf’s cheeks and forcefully spread them wide, revealing her pussy. She whistled impressed by the exotic sight. Elves had no body hair; Jenassa’s slit was perfectly smooth. Her outer lips were of a darker tint, but as the adventurer’s thumbs spread them, in view came the bright pink center.

“Damn, I could stare at you all day long!”

“I hope you intend to do more than that.”

“I can make you beg for more and to stop at the same time.” Aza assured, moistening her thumbs. One she slid painfully slowly into the mercenary’s tight opening, the other was busy rubbing the clit. Jenassa closed her eyes, thankful no one could see her delighted expression so unfit for a Dark Elf.

“You’re wet already?” Aza asked surprised, when she noticed her thumbs were coated with love juices. She inserted the other thumb inside Jenassa and opened her vagina wide. The hireling cried, feeling the breeze so deep inside her.

“Taste me, sera! Taste me, damn it!” She pleaded, rocking her ass back and forth.

“How could I say no when you’re asking so nicely?” Aza rolled her tongue and slid it inside the wet, velvet hole. An elf’s exactly what she needed. The taste was sweet and slightly spicy, like honey mixed with a pinch of sharp pepper. She pulled her tongue out, slid alongside the whole length, then tickled the hardening clit.

“Mmm… Nerevar!” The Dunmer grunted.

“I doubt Nerevar could pleasure you the way I can.” With that, the adventurer lied down on her back and slid under the elf. The bald pussy was right above her face. Light glimmered in a drop of dew that dripped straight into the Redguard’s opened mouth. She slapped Jenassa on the butt, urging to lower her ass and spread her legs wider.

“Ah, chew on it, you cruel wench!”

“You don’t mean that literally, do you?” Not waiting for a reply or even expecting one, Aza closed her lips on the mercenary’s pearl and sucked hard, grinding her flattened tongue against it. To make her companion wail louder, she reached for her trusty dagger and without warning shoved the hilt inside.

“Ah, bastard of a diseased harlot!” Jenassa cried, yet it was neither a frightened nor pained sound.

“Taste real Skyforge Steel, bitch!”

“Ugh, it’s cold…!”

“Then let me slide it deeper so you can properly warm it up!” Aza laughed, pushing the hilt to the limit. The Dunmer breathed fast and loud, her hips started shaking. More juice leaked from within to satisfy the adventurer’s tongue.

“Ah… Azura, I’m coming!” Jenassa cried out when her body was fired up by a fiery orgasm. Her walls squeezed the hilt so hard, that Aza couldn’t move the dagger an inch in either direction. The Dunmer collapsed, calling the various Daedra that looked over her people. When she finally collected herself, she rolled off the Redguard and laid on her back with legs wide apart and knees bend. Her hair was in a mess, tears and sweat smeared her yellow war paint. Her pussy was still dripping, marking her thighs and the stone floor.

“I take it you enjoyed yourself? Mephala’s sweet titties and Boethiah’s she-cock? Haven’t heard swears like that before.” Aza said with an amused smirk. She wiped her mouth and then dagger, before sheathing it.

“I hope you’re not expecting a thank you.” Jenassa huffed with displeasure. Her legs were still shaking, but she started to go back to her normal collected self.

“I expect you to miss me a bit when I’m out defiling my sweet virgin boy.”

“That… I can promise you.” The elf’s crimson eyes flickered.

“Will you give me a kiss to remember you by when we part?” The Redguard asked promiscuously.

“Only if you wish to have your tongue bitten off, sera.” Jenassa replied politely.

“You’re no fun!”

---

“Slayer? Of what, skeevers in your pa’s cellar?” She asked when he told her his new name.

“I have to have a name that makes an impression!” Erik grunted. She was back as if nothing had happened. A day after he returned home with father, she walked through the inn’s door and first thing she did was criticize him.

“Alright, alright, spare me your little peeves. Erik the Slayer… You’re going to have to earn that title, but it can be done. So, have you packed your things?” She asked giving him a hard nudge in the arm.

“For what?” Erik asked, rubbing his shoulder. “Don’t let her know how much she gets to you” he reminded himself.

“For the adventure of your life!“ She announced. “What, did you think I’m just going to let you go and get murdered out there?” She asked, seeing horror wash over his face. “I set you free, so now you’re my responsibility, pup. Tell you what, I’m going to order ale from your dearest daddy and when I’m done with it, you better be prepared.”

“Be right back.” Erik said with a sigh.

As he went upstairs, Aza approached Mralki at the bar. The innkeeper looked away with disgust, energetically wiping the counter.

“Iron?” She asked, raising her brow, referring to Erik’s choice of armor.

“I don’t want his guts ripped out by some skooma-crazed bandit!” The innkeeper snapped, slamming his palms against the wood. Aza didn’t even flinch.

“Your boy is quick and he’s got a reflex, heavy armor will only slow him down. I’m going to get him some nice studded leather. Oh, pour me some ale, will you? I’m weary from the road.” She requested, imagining Erik in a tight set of leather armor that would reveal his long legs.

“If you get my son killed or crippled for life…” Mralki warned, pouring her a drink. His hand clenched the tankard hard enough to make his knuckles white. Aza took the drink, and maintaining eye contact took a sip.

“If that happens, it’s going to be his own fault. Trust me…” for this brief moment the look on her face was dead serious “I’m going to take care of him. I promise.”

“You better. Take your drink outside. I want to say my goodbyes without you eavesdropping. Keep the damned tankard.” Mralki’s tone was cold, yet Aza knew he trusted her enough to let Erik leave with her.

“Sure thing.” She said amicably as she got up. “Oh, and Mralki!” She called as she was halfway through the door. “When the right time comes, I’m going to fuck his brains out.”

Before Mralki could leap through the bar and choke the damned wretch, she slammed the door. A second later Erik walked down the stairs.

“I’m leaving, pa.” He said, staring at the floor.

“Of course you are. It’s what you always wanted.” Mralki said, unclenching his fists to pat him on the shoulder. He had so much to tell his boy. “Erik… go. You and I well know what we want to say, so there’s no need to get all weepy about it, right? Look after yourself, and… Be careful around that woman. She’ll watch your back, but you need to understand that women are devious.” He warned, lowering his voice.

“I know, pa. I know.” Erik assured, remembering the night he met Aza.

“Good. Stay safe.” Father said, not looking him in the eyes.

“Okay… And pa? I left most of my things. I’m… going to return home one day, so I saw no point in taking them.”

“Of course, Erik. You are my son and you will always have a place here. Don’t do anything stupid and when you get the chance, slip a note through a courier. I’ll pay them on the delivery.”

---

Aza finished her ale and threw the tankard in the bushes. She felt the boy’s presence just two steps behind her.

“You’re not going to cry, are you?” She asked, not bothering to turn around. She marveled at the sun setting over the plains. Whiterun was a bit plain for her tastes, but the sunsets over the tundra were always incredible.

“No. Let’s go.” Erik’s voice was surprisingly calm as he stood beside her. Once again, Aza realized that there was more to him than met the eye.

“We’re going to Falkreath. I hear the Jarl of has some bounties laying around. You know how to use that?” She asked, pointing at his steel axe.

“I was chopping wood since I was eight.”

“Wonderful. Come on.”

They left Rorikstead in silence. The sun had almost set, coloring everything in shades of red and orange. When they were far away from any settlements, she suddenly stopped.

“This is where I’m going to teach you your first lesson.” She explained calmly.

Out of nowhere, she whipped Erik’s forgotten belt and cast it around his ankle, sharply pulling the leather loop. The lad fell with a surprised cry. The setting sky did a barrel roll before he hit his head against the ground. He knew her well enough not to ask, but react. He tried to get up, but a well-placed kick in the gut, just below the iron chestpiece, paralyzed him with pain. He groaned and curled into a ball, fighting not to puke himself.

“No, ‘why me’ or ‘what did I do’? Good, you’re learning” She noted, stepping on his wrist when he tried to reach for his axe. Erik’s hand was immediately immobilized, sharp pain radiated up to his elbow.

“Damn, you Aza!” He shouted. “I should have known this was a trick!”

She grabbed him by the collar of his armor and pulled up, only to knock him back down with a punch. Blood spurted from between his smashed lips.

“This is for your own good, kid. You see, I might have forgiven your little outburst when we were frolicking in the shed, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten it. You cut my forehead and slapped me in the face. I’m just setting the scores so there’s no bad blood between us.” She explained, landing a kick at his lower back. As Erik tried his best not to scream, he couldn’t help releasing a pitiable grunt.

“Ugh… That all you got?” He gurgled, spitting out blood mixed with saliva.

“This serves a purpose, you know. Sooner or later someone is bound to beat the shit out of you. It might as well be me. Now shut up and take it like a man!” Aza commanded, throwing punches and kicks with calm accuracy.

And Erik took it like a man. For entire five minutes, before he passed out in a pool of blood, urine and disgrace.

“Get up!” Aza shouted, twisting his arm out of its joint. The pain immediately restored his consciousness and all the suffering that came with it. “If you don’t get up and start walking this instance, I’m leaving you here! I swear on Hircine’s hairy balls, if you don’t pull yourself together, you can crawl back to your daddy!”

“I’m up. Get off me, you crazy bitch!” He mumbled through swollen lips, feebly trying to push her off. Thank Stendarr, his teeth were still intact, though one molar got dangerously loose in its gum. He slowly stood up, walked a few steps, then with incredible effort managed not to puke all over himself. Trying to focus his blurry vision, he noticed the belt lying on the ground.

“Leave it!” The Redguard warned. “It’s not yours anymore. And I don’t want it back. Now walk, there’s a long road ahead of us.”

Without a word of protest he followed Aza’s pace. The sun had set, yet she had no intention of lighting a lantern or torch to illuminate their path. Perhaps it was for the best, that Erik’s face was obscured in the dark. Every few steps he had to stop to spit out some blood, and then continued following her in complete silence.

And that was Erik’s first lesson about consequences, pain, and how dignity is something you learn to lose first.

Chapter Text

After a night of hiking, she gave him a weak healing potion and allowed to rest for a few hours, then woke up with a kick in the kidney and ordered to move out. Another day of travel passed, with him getting a nudge or kick for the slightest sigh. She marched fast, with no signs of fatigue, giving him no chance to take a break. The third day of the murderous marathon, they entered the great pine forest. She let him eat and sleep, but barely said anything. Erik started having second thoughts, but forced himself to endure. In the morning she manhandled him a bit, but without much enthusiasm.

They reached Falkreath just before dawn on the third day. Dead Man’s Drink was the first inn Erik had ever slept in, aside from the one that was his home. The innkeep made no mention of his bruises and swollen face as Aza did all the talking. His priority was not to pass out in front of all the other guests. He was exhausted.

“I need a bed for two, your strongest ale, mutton, clean towels… that cheese you got there on the shelf, a bucket of hot water and shears.”

“That will be…” the innkeeper was silenced by a heavy coinpurse Aza placed on the counter “…suffice. Enjoy your stay.”

“That we will. Has the Jarl any bounties on his hands?”

“There’s a pack of wolves south from here. Or…” the Imperial innkeeper leaned forward and whispered “vampires in the mountains to the east.”

For a moment Aza gazed into the embers in the hearth. She was calculating the odds-risk-success-payment ratio.

“Wolves you say…” she asked rhetorically. “I’ll see to it, then. Show us the room!”

---

Their room was plain, clean and smelled of pinewood. The supplies Aza ordered were delivered in a matter of minutes, the coinpurse must have been heavier than it seemed. Erik paid no mind, though. All he wanted was to fall senseless on the bed and sleep the pain away.

“Not until you sort yourself out!” Aza scolded, seeing him approach the bed.

“I don’t care about that…” Erik muttered, lying down on the hay mattress.

“Don’t make me beat you up again!” She warned, opening the bottle and reaching for the meat. “Undress and clean yourself up. I rolled you in the dirt, dying of infected wounds is the last thing you want. And you smell like piss.”

Erik flaccidly took his armor off, then undressed. As he sat on a short stool and reached for a towel he felt blood starting to drip from his nose, but he was too worn out to bother.

“Gods, you’re such a baby!” Aza sighed, putting her dinner away. She took the towel off his hands. “Here, let me do it.”

“Get away from me” he said with a shrug, too tired to even raise his hand.

“Shut up, kid.” The Redguard rebuffed, dipping the towel in the water.

With gentleness and care he would never expect of her, she washed the dirt, blood and fluids off him. With what was left in the bucket she soaked his hair and wiped him dry. Erik couldn’t understand this woman, who came into his life out of nowhere. She could be lecherous, then turn cruel only to suddenly become caring. His own feelings about her shifted as well, ranging from fear, lust, anger to utter confusion. He still didn’t fully trust her, yet he had no choice.

“All right, you’re good. Get on the bed, flat on your stomach” she instructed.

With tremendous effort, Erik managed to make three weary steps towards the bed and laid down on his belly, minding the bruised ribs. Maybe he was wrong and this wasn’t the life for him after all? He closed his eyes, trying to sink into sleep. Somewhere, far beyond the cloud of pain, he heard his tormenter bustling around the room.

“This might sting a bit.” Aza said, sitting on the edge of the bed. With his face buried in the pillow, Erik couldn’t see that she was wearing a worn-out linen nightshirt and was clenching a jar with some unknown substance. She carefully took the lid off and generously greased her palms. She proceeded to massage the mixture in his shoulders and back, advancing lower. The salve tingled.

“What are you doing to me this time?” He asked tiredly.

“Relax, it’s for lessening the pain, so you’ll be able to move in the morning” she explained, as she massaged his thighs. “I need you operational, we’re going wolf hunting.”

“Oh joy…” Erik snarked.

“Yep. Flip over. I figured you should start with something simple.” Aza went on, rubbing the mixture into his chest and abdomen. The unexpected massage relaxed the lad enough to make him feel better. But on the surface of his mind emerged a question…

“What are the shears for?” He asked cautiously.

“Your hair needs trimming. You’re going to meet new people, I don’t want you looking like a savage.” She revealed, rubbing the remains of the substance into his swollen face.

“I like it the way it is.”

“Oh sweetness…” she chuckled, wiping her hands with her shirt “I mean no harm to that gorgeous red mane of yours. It’s your bush that needs to go.” She added, reaching for the shears.

“You’re…!”

“Crazy? Sick?” She suggested patiently. “Yes, you already mentioned that a couple of times.”

“I’m not letting you near my crotch with anything sharp!” He warned.

“Calm down, I already hurt you enough. Now come on, trust me! I’m going to do it anyways, it’s up to you how smoothly the operation will go.”

“I really don’t get you…” Erik sighed, giving in.

Aza bent forward and with dispatch relieved him from excess hair. Looking down on his groin, he had to admit that his precious presented itself more stately and grandly. Still, in his own opinion, the size could be more impressive.

“You don’t like it?” She inquired.

“No, it’s just… so small.” He confessed, avoiding looking her in the eyes.

For a second Aza was on the brink of slapping the whelp. Too small? That monster?! Just how sheltered was he?

“So… how big should it be to make you feel like a real man?” She asked jokingly. Erik said nothing, but made a measuring gesture with his hands. “W… where did you get that idea?” She asked, shocked by the distance between his palms.

“From the bard’s song” the boy admitted timidly.

“Erik…” she sighed, “if you want to be a big boy, you should stop believing everything you’re told. As for the bards… It’s their job to exaggerate.” The Redguard shook her head and got back to the table to finish her now cold dinner. “What?” She asked, noticing his gaze. “This is my grub, I paid for it. You should be thankful I’m not expecting you to share the cost of the room. My once in a lifetime treat, next time we split the costs.”

“I’m not hungry.” He dismissed, still staring at her. Aza was in awe how the look in his eyes could shift from oblivious to determined.

“So, what do you want then?”

“Can’t I just look at you?” He tried to joke.

“Everyone wants something. Now spill it, I want to get some sleep as well.”

“My… thing.”

“Your cock.” She corrected, slicing the cheese.

“My cock… Do you think the size is… okay?”

“Listen, laddie” with an annoyed sigh, Aza put the knife down. “I had cocks of all shapes, colors and sizes shoved with more or less consent into every hole in my body that would fit. Yours is…” she paused. There was no point in lying, but she didn’t want to stroke his ego either. “Perfectly normal and fine. Now go to sleep.” With that, she stuffed her mouth with a large slice of goat cheese that instantly crumbled and melted on her tongue. Nord cheese was the best!

The conversation was over. Erik rolled to his side and closed his eyes, hoping the pounding in his head soon stops. His lower lip was swollen, but thankfully it stopped bleeding.

“Wear a shirt, you want to catch pneumonia straight away?” Aza nagged.

“Too tired to move…” he muttered. “And I’m a Nord, cold means nothing to me.”

The Redguard leapt towards the resting whelp, grabbed him by the ear and pulled up to a sitting position. From the bundle on the floor she retrieved his shirt and roughly it pulled over his head. She caught a whiff of his scent in the air. Young, energetic, radiating pheromones from every pore. She crinkled her nose as she realized she could distinct it with her eyes closed. He became something familiar to her in a very short time.

“Stop treating me like a brat! I don’t need a nanny!” He protested, pulling the shirt down.

“Then stop acting like one! I swear, I think I’d be better off playing nanny to a real baby!”

“And what could you know about children?” He sneered.

“Oh, you’d be surprised.” She snapped, heading to the table once more, this time adamant to finish her dinner.

After she was done eating without any more interruptions, Aza blew out the candles and sat on the bed’s edge. Sipping her ale, she tried her best to keep the memories from flooding her. She didn’t want to remember anything she was attached to in the past. Yet, in the face of memories, she was defenseless. She hated that feeling. She looked over her shoulder at his still form, pleased to hear him breathe steadily. He was finally asleep.

“And I thought Zia was bratty.” She said quietly, unaware he could hear her.

Luckily, Erik was smart enough to keep his eyes closed. He knew he’d get another beating if he’d open them and ask who was Zia. This was a matter for another time. Or at least after his bruises fade out.

---

It was almost noon. She woke up relieved she didn’t have any dreams. She then realized, that while she was lying on her side, Erik rolled in his sleep to rest his head on her buxom chest and held her in a tight clutch. In her sleep, she returned his embrace.

“Unbelievable!” She thought, prying his arms off.

Immediately, the boy turned flat on his back, occupying most of the bed. His member was awake and proudly pointed at the ceiling. Erik himself was a hard sleeper, which was a bad trait in an adventurer. She would see to him later, she had something else to do now. She got dressed and took his armor. Iron, what was Mralki thinking? But as she recalled Lod, the town smith, was more than decent with his leatherwork. She crept out of the room with Erik’s armor, whilst the rookie was still rampaging through Dreamland.

---

“My lord, thank you for freeing me from the evil wizard’s grasp!” The fair maiden exclaimed.

“It is my duty to protect delicate young creatures such as yourself from all that is evil, my dear!” The Slayer replied. His armor shone in the afternoon sun.

“Ah, my savior! I am but a humble lass, but please!” She begged, undoing her hair and letting it flow down her back like a golden cape. “Make love to me in this enchanted meadow, I am yours for the taking!”

The hero sheathed his blade as the maiden unlaced her shirt, revealing more of her fair skin. Her full, white breasts, exposed to the outside world, bounced as she opened her arms. The Slayer stepped forward to claim his prize. His strong hands closed on her hips and pulled closer to meet with the cold steel of his chestplate. He closed his eyes, bending forward to cast a kiss that would overcome her with desire. Yet, the lass’ cherry lips didn’t meet with his. He opened his eyes. The meadow was replaced by a dark, gloomy swamp. The blue eyes that were looking so tenderly into his changed into a mismatched set of green and white he knew damned too well. And the look in them was blatantly unimpressed. The fair maiden was gone, instead there was the ebony-skinned, scar-ridden Aza. The sky behind her was heavy with dark clouds.

“Wake up, fool!” She said as the rainy sky came crashing on Erik’s head.

He sprang up, coughing and snorting. He, was soaked with cold water, just like the bed. The sudden movement conjured pain alongside his whole body, reminding of the recent beatings. He staggered and hit his head against a shelf. Disoriented, he sat on the floor, waiting for the dizziness to pass.

“Finally!” Aza hissed displeased. “It’s almost noon! You got the morning wash checked, so you can gear up now. I got you some food.” She said, pointing at the table.

“Couldn’t you just wake me up like a normal person?!” He shouted, rubbing the back of his head.

“I think that by now we can both agree, that I am nothing what you would call normal. But I did it for your own good.”

“My own good!?” He snapped, cautiously standing up.

“You sleep like the dead. Even a child could sneak up on you and slit your throat. I’m going to knock some alertness into you. Get ready to either wake up at the faintest sound, or completely soaked.” She warned.

“And if there’s no bucket of water handy?”

“Then I can always give you a golden shower” the wretch promised with a nasty smile.

“I didn’t realize you were that wealthy.” Erik tried to talk back, but Aza unexpectedly burst into laughter.

“Oh, you’re wonderfully innocent Erik, don’t ever change!” She pleaded, after a moment of catching her breath. “Now come on already, we have no time to waste.”

“Where’s my armor?” The lad asked, looking around. He couldn’t locate the familiar shape of his chestpiece.

“I sold it and got you a new set.”

“You did what?!” He cried. His father spent so much gold on that damned thing!

“You’re not the heavy armor type.” The Redguard explained calmly. “I bought you a set of leather. With what little gold that was left, I got you food and there are even a few coins left. See? I can be nice. Now stop your bitching and get a move on.”

“Can’t I spend a moment around you without getting humiliated, hurt or harassed?” He whined one last time, wringing his hair. Aza threw him a towel with a lenient smile.

“Watch it, kid. Wolves might be your least concern today.” She warned, although she was pleased he talked back with more confidence. The whimpering milk-drinker she molested the first night she spent in Rorikstead was slowly fading away. Yet, she still had to test him in a real fight.

“What do you think?” He asked, presenting himself. She was too busy frolicking in her thoughts to notice he equipped his new armor. And he was quick with it, another sign light armor was his thing.

“Well look at you! You look almost decent. Now eat your breakfast.” She nagged, her tone perfectly mocking motherly concern.

---

The pine forest which composed most of Falkreath hold was thick with game. However, due of a vicious pack of wolves that roamed the area, the rest of the wildlife retreated to their dens.

“Well, would you look at that” Aza whistled, noticing a ragged shape in a ditch slightly off the road. “Come on, let’s give it a look.” She said, patting Erik on the shoulder.

On closer inspection, the shape turned out to be a body. It was a female Khajiit, her abdomen was hollow, eaten away by what could only be wolves. The beasts also devoured her buttocks, thighs, throat and one breast. The other was still attached to her chest, but brutally ragged. The Khajiit’s dead eyes were staring at the clear sky with frozen amazement. First flies gathered on her lifeless, yellow eyeballs.

“Gods…” Erik whispered.

“The Gods had nothing to do with this” Aza reprimanded, kneeling before the corpse.

“Should we… bury her?” He inquired.

“No. We’ll let the guards know once we are back.” Aza declined, going through the bloodied rags that were once the Khajiit’s clothes. “Aha!” She exclaimed, retrieving a small purse.

“How can you rob her like that?!” Erik couldn’t believe his own eyes.

“Rob?” She asked surprised. “She won’t be needing those anymore, the woodland critters won’t either, so why shouldn’t we make good use of her stuff? She’s dead, Erik! Look!” Aza squeezed the one furry breast that was still intact. “See, she’s not complaining. And I don’t see Arkay appearing out of thin air to smite me. Now quit your whining and keep an eye out.”

Erik toddled in place a bit, unsure of what to do. The wind blew in his back, carrying an alarming scent. Predators. He turned around just in time to see two robust wolves creeping up on them. The beasts were like nothing he had ever seen. They were larger, thicker and weren’t afraid of people. And by the Gods, that smell! Their stench could knock a troll unconscious!

“Finally! I’ve been wondering when you’ll notice.” Said his companion, as three more appeared to their right. She slowly stood up, arming herself with her dagger and sword. “Don’t get flanked” she warned. “They’ll want to separate you and knock off balance. Keep in motion!”

“Kyne, they’re huge!” He noted, pulling out his axe.

He occasionally fended off wolves that got too close to Rorikstead, but swinging a torch or throwing rocks at the small cowardly ones that populated the plains of Whiterun was nothing compared to facing over one hundred pounds of fur and muscles.

He gripped the handle firmer. One of the pair in front of him prepared to jump, its hind legs sprung off the ground, launching the creature jaw-first at him. Erik didn’t think, he reacted on pure instinct. He sidestepped, the wolf leapt pass him. Before it could dash again, Erik took a wide swing. The axe plunged into the animal’s spine, almost severing its body in half. The youngster bolted away just before a second muzzle could bite into his leg. “I would never dodge that if I was wearing heavy armor!” He realized with dumbfound amazement. He regained balance, ready to fight the next attacker.

“Good, you killed one of their alphas, they won’t know what to do now!” He heard his comrade’s praise.

Pleased to see some results from Erik, she turned to one of the wolves, kicking it in the throat. Before the beast had a chance to whimper, she sunk her blade into its side. The blow was fatal, there were four beasts left. Erik focused on the one that tried to previously bite into his leg. He stared into its crazed eyes. Thick drool was dripping off the beast’s gnashed teeth as it licked it’s teeth. This was between him and the wolf… or so he thought. He was so focused on his opponent, that he hadn’t noticed another wolf approach him from behind.

It would surely catch him by surprise if it weren’t for a dagger hitting it straight in the eye, killing instantly. Aza scoffed, paying it no more attention and got back to the two remaining beasts.

The wolf finally pounced. Instead of dashing to the side, the lad took step back, tripping over the fresh kill behind him. Seeing a drooling maw heading straight for his throat, he released his axe, instinctively guarding himself with his arm. The wolf closed its jaws on the leather of his bracer, almost crushing his forearm. Erik shouted and cursed curse in pain. The stench from the beast’s maw made his insides twist. He had to think fast! The Gods smiled upon him that day; with the corner of his eye he noticed Aza’s dagger, still resting in the bloodied eyesocket. He sharply pulled it out and stabbed the gnawing wolf’s chest. Then, with a pained yell, as the fiend had no intention of giving up, he pulled it all the way to the wolf’s jaw, ripping the throat open. The creature gave his arm one final desperate shake, then fell lifeless. Erik now rested between two dead animals, blood was slowly pouring from them and sunk into his armor.

“Damn, you alright?” Aza’s upside down face hovered above him. Her brow was sweaty and she had smears of blood on her cleavage.

“Pull me out!” He growled, feeling his ribcage crackle. The furry deadweight was too much for him to budge.

With her help, he managed to squirm from between the wolves’ twitching bodies. He remained motionless for a longer moment, still on all-fours. He got up shortly after the world around him stopped spinning. His arm was pulsing with pain, but thankfully he could clench and unclench his fist. Taking a moment to look around, he saw that the two other creatures were dead as well. The pack was defeated.

“Take that bracer off before your forearm completely swells.” Aza advised, pulling her dagger from the wolf’s throat. Erik wisely obeyed; his forearm was almost black form bruises. But it was better than having his throat ripped open.

“What now?” He asked with a weary smile. They did it!

“We skin them and present the pelts to the Jarl as proof.” She explained, handing over his lost axe. “Congratulations, Erik. You’re still alive.”

---

The young and arrogant Jarl paid them enough gold to keep them going for a few more days. They didn’t stay in Falkreath. Instead, they hiked east, entering more rocky terrain. A day later they were passing the ruins of the town known formerly as Helgen. Aza gave the outer walls a long, grave look.

“I hear the Imperials almost executed Ulfric Stormcloak in Helgen. But then, a dragon came and burned the town to the ground!” Erik sighed amazed. A dragon! That must have been a sight!

“Yep.”

“Do you think we could stay there? If the keep is intact, we could sleep in the barracks” he suggested.

“No!” She refused abruptly.

“Why not?”

“The place is probably swarming with all sorts of outlaw scum. Let’s keep going.”

“But… shouldn’t we take care of any bandits we come across?” He asked, puzzled.

“Is anyone paying us to do so? No. Now come on!” She urged, increasing her pace.

“But…” the whelp was hard to lay off.

“Erik, there’s no point in playing hero and putting your life on the line for no apparent reason! Understood?”

“I…” he took a moment to ponder her words. “Yes. I… understand.” He agreed with a frown.

“Great. The sooner you realize how the world works the better.”

---

They took a narrow pass through the southern slope of the Throat of the World. The rocky terrain soon changed into a birch forest. It was the middle of the night two days later when they entered the south-east quarter of the province. They spent the rest of the night in an abandoned shack that must have been previously inhabited by an alchemist, as there was an alchemy lab present along with some messy notes. They took turns sleeping and keeping a lookout. With the break of dawn, they continued their journey through the woods. The moss covered bed of the woodland bore the smell of slowly ending summer.

“The Rift looks so peaceful” Aza said with a raptured sigh. “Perfect spot for an archer to take us out by surprise.” She added with a bitter grin.

“Are you always this cynical?” Erik sighed, nervously looking around.

“I thought you learned that by now.”

The sudden sound of a woman calling out the Divines interrupted their little chatter. Erik jumped.

“Someone’s in trouble!” He shouted. “It came from there, come on!” He urged, pointing at the nearby shrubbery.

“Hold your horses!” His companion said, raising her palms. “You really need to stop being this hasty.”

“But… But, she’s screaming!” He argued, confused by her calmness.

“Well, obviously you’ve never heard a woman scream like that before!” Aza laughed. “Come on, let’s go see what all the fuss is about.”

Quietly, they crept to the thickest part of the shrubs. The cries and pleads were now getting louder and more desperate. Erik fell to his knees and cautiously spread a few twigs to make a peephole.

The Nord woman was obviously in no danger. She was bending forward, with her legs wide apart and her backside stretching out. Her arms were wrapped around a young birch. Her shirt was unlaced, her skirt pulled all the way to the middle of her back, exposing her pale ass. Behind her was the source of her cries. His hands were firmly holding her hips in place, whilst he pumped his cock into her young pussy.

“Well, I’ll be damned!” Aza whispered, pressing her cheek against Erik’s. “Fastred and Klimmek! Dinya Balu in Riften would be over the moons if she saw this!”

“You know them?” Erik asked, trying his best to remain undetected. And while he was at it, he employed all his willpower to keep his cock from breaking loose.

“I know a lot of people.” She replied, widening the peephole.

“Ah, Gods, you’re tearing me apart!” The girl wailed, arching her back.

“That’s what I like to hear, tell me more!” Her lover pulled her closer, as his balls slammed against her inner thighs.

“Mara, it’s like having a red-hot rod inside me!”

“She obviously has no idea what she’s talking about.” Aza whispered into Erik’s ear. “Oh…! You like to watch, don’t you?” She asked intrigued, instantly noticing the bulge in his armor.

“Aza, no!” He hissed, immediately recognizing the lewd spark in her good eye.

“Why, yes!” She assured. “It’s unhealthy for a young stud such as yourself to be holding back like this. I’m just going to give you a hand…” She purred, slithering behind him. “Come on, undo those pants!”

“No, stop it!” He shuttered.

He wanted to look her straight in the eye to show how serious he was, but he just couldn’t take his eyes off the couple so passionately fucking in the wild. He couldn’t believe they hadn’t noticed they were being watched. Was he and Aza that well-hidden, or were those two so focused on each other, that they forgot about the rest of the world?

“You know, they live in Ivarstead” Aza revealed in a seemingly nonchalant tone. “That’s where I planned to stay for a while” she added, as her hands were casually stroking his chest from behind. “But if you fight, they’re going to eventually notice us…”

“And we won’t be staying in Ivarstead.” He guessed.

“Oh, no! Of course we will! But you’re going to have to look those people in the eyes, knowing that you watched them fuck and they caught you!” She said, pressing her hips against his behind. “Come on Erik…” she tempted, grinding against him. “I really want to do this” she added softer.

Erik surrendered. He let her agile fingers reach underneath his leather skirt, but as she was about to undo his undergarments, he held her by the wrists.

“But I get to touch you too, okay?” He haggled.

“Okay.” She agreed and his grip loosened.

She pulled out his impatient member and gave it a few comforting jerks. Her hands could be wonderfully swift and gentle when she wanted it. She pampered her boy toy whilst he was busy enjoying the show.

“What about you?” He asked through the mist that fell before his eyes. He was positive now that the couple had no clue of their presence.

“What about me?” She teased. The tip of her tongue slid down the nape of his neck, causing him to shiver.

“Come on, I want to touch you too!” He pleaded, thankful that Fastred’s moans were so loud.

“How?” She inquired playfully.

“What do you mean how? With my hands of course!”

“No, dummy!” She sighed, pulling one of his braids with her teeth. “Talk dirty to me, convince me you’ll make me overflow with pleasure.”

The lad took a moment to gather his thoughts. In the meantime, Klimmek pulled out, turned his woman around and grabbed her by the ass. He picked her up and pinned her against the tree, showering them with leaves. His tongue, shoved brutally between her lips, muffled another wave of cries. Fastred wrapped her arms and legs around him, as the thick, bulbous tip of his dick went back where it belonged. Her wet pussy welcomed it lovingly, releasing more juices.

“Well?” Aza pestered, jerking him off and squeezing his sack. Without hair, Erik’s skin was even more sensitive.

“I want to feel, not just see your pussy, damn it!” He pleaded, looking over his shoulder. “I want to make you so wet, you’ll soak your thighs. I… I want to rub you until you come, and when you do, I want to feel how your hot, wet pussy convulses around my fingers.” With that, he bend his head back and offered her his lips.

At first she merely brushed his lips with hers, but finally slid her tongue inside to meet with his. Her mouth tasted slightly bitter. Aza was surprised the lad didn’t make the mistake most young bucks did; nearly choking the other person with their tongue and drooling like a Sheogorath worshipper. Erik wasn’t in a hurry and worked both his tongue and lips. He was too good to be doing this for the first time. Disappointed, she realized she hadn’t stolen his first kiss. The very next second, she scolded herself for believing he could be that innocent. And for wanting to be his first.

“Keep looking at them” she instructed, pulling her tongue out of his mouth. A string of clear saliva still connected their lips. “And keep talking. Who was the first woman you kissed?”

“A friend. We were” Erik sighed deeply when she rubbed his glans with her thumb, “just practicing.”

“Go on.” She encouraged, resting her cheek on his pauldron.

“It was shortly after harvest, I think I was fifteen at the time. We snuck away and hid in the haystacks with a bottle I snatched from my father’s cellar.” He continued the tale as quietly as he could. “She asked if I ever kissed. I said no. She said she kissed her boy before he went off to fight the Forsworn. She offered to teach me, saying that I’ll never get to kiss anyone anyway, so she might as well take pity on me. Guess the joke’s on her, right?”

Before the Redguard could say something unpleasant about Erik’s childhood friend, Fastred wailed in a surprisingly high pitched voice.

“Oh Gods! Oh Klimmek! Oh mother and father, I’m there! I’m there!” She clutched her lover as if her life depended on it and actually wept, burying her face in his chest. Her body tensed, paralyzed by numbing pleasure. Between sobs, she tried to catch her breath in short, loud spasms.

“What a drama queen!” Aza muttered, working on Erik’s cock faster and harder.

“Gods, I couldn’t keep up with your pace again” Fastred wept, “I’m so sorry Klimmek!”

“It’s alright.” He said in a comforting tone. He released her and let her slide against the trunk to the ground. He bent forward, grabbing the trunk for support, whilst quickly stroking his veiny shaft. “You know what to do.”

Fastred eagerly sucked the tip of his cock, pinching and tugging herself hard on the nipples. Her breasts were large and slightly saggy, but still young and fresh. The sight of her skin turning red and flushed made his blood boil.

“Do that thing I like” he instructed through clenched teeth, feeling he’s going to ejaculate soon. Fastred stuck out her flattened tongue, still playing with her tits. Her half-shut eyes were peering into Klimmek’s, as his tip was sliding up and down her tongue.

“I’m almost there…!” Erik whispered, reaching behind and grabbing Aza’s hips.

“Don’t hold back!” She encouraged, feeling his shaft getting hotter and starting to throb.

“Don’t swallow!” Klimmek grunted, breathing harder and deeper. “I’m gonna cum all over you!” His voice fell into an ecstatic groan as he climaxed. A surprisingly thick stream of semen shot from his swollen glans straight at his young lover’s tongue. His loins quivered, showering her sweet mouth. Fastred stuck her tongue out even further as white, cloudy streams dripped from her face onto her cleavage, forming a small puddle between her breasts. Still teasing her beloved’s tip, she spread his seed all over her breasts. Unknowingly, she drove someone else than her man to the heights of carnal pleasure.

“N-now, harder!” Erik bit his lip, trying not to make a sound. Aza’s solid grip and peeping on the couple from Ivarstead drove him to his limits. He came with unexpected force, marking the moss and ferns in front of him. He felt blood on his tongue, he must have bit himself too hard. The Redguard’s hand was still steadily jerking his exhausted member, squeezing out his load to the very last drop. Erik was almost positive that they were heard. Something must have given away their presence!

“Don’t move a muscle until they leave.” His companion whispered into his ear. She let go of his cock and wrapped her arms around his waist. He was thankful that her breasts supported his back, as he was left too weary from this experience.

“No woman on Nirn looks lovelier than you do now, Fastred.” Klimmek muttered, caressing his lover’s cheek.

“You know what to say to make me feel like a real woman” she replied laughing. She licked her glossy lips and reached for a basket she had stashed away behind the tree. She retrieved a piece of cloth from within to carefully wipe herself. The two of them sorted themselves out in blissful laziness.

“It’s still early, but I should get going” he sighed, reaching for his canvas sack.

“You shouldn’t keep the Greybeards waiting” she agreed “I’ll see you home” she added, kissing him goodbye. They stood in silence for a moment, before going on their separate ways, still oblivious of Erik and Aza creeping in the bushes.

“Well, that’s one way to start your day. “Aza concluded, when the coast was clear. “But I’m happy for them. These are some really messed up times, and it’s good to have someone by your side.”

“Uh-oh.” Erik agreed indifferently. “So…” he started conversation, turning over and resting his palms on her laps. “Should I…?”

“The show’s over, kid.” She shot his hopes down.

“What?! Oh, come on!”

“Forget it, I’m not in the mood anymore.” She refused, pinching his nose.

“You… You played me and took advantage of me! Again!” He cried.

“Yep. And you didn’t fail to amuse me once more.” She giggled, pushing him off to mount him, holding down by the wrists.

“Damn you!”

“Oh, quit your pouting!” She muttered, leaning forward. There were mere inches between their faces, a few wayward leaves got into their hair. “You did get some today, didn’t you?” She asked, smirking. Her lips pressed against his, their tongues met. Erik went numb in her grasp.

This was going to be a long day.

Chapter Text

“Oh, would you quit your bitching? Come on, stop being such a brat!”

“I’m not bitching. I just hate it when you toy with me like that.” Erik replied, blowing a strand of hair from his brow.

It was late in the afternoon. They arrived to Ivarstead to investigate the supposedly haunted burrow near the edge of town. As it turned out, the ‘ghost’ that haunted the ancient halls was a fraud. After dealing with him and reporting back to the local inn, they were rewarded with an old dragon claw ornament. The trinket seemed useless, but after revisiting the burrow the next day it revealed itself to be a key to the draugr-infested inner sanctum. Thankfully, the two heroes managed to work their way through the undead hordes and thoroughly explore the ancient tomb. The main chamber contained little loot, but there was also an ancient Word Wall present. Aza ignored it, claiming ancient Nord wisdom was of no use for someone like her. Regardless, it was his first raided tomb! This glorious deed brightened Erik’s mood a bit.

“Where to now?” He asked, as they lounged on the porch of the inn, basking in the morning sun.

“East. Maybe Riften. We’ll see how it goes from there.” Aza said with a yawn. “It’s been smooth so far, eh?” She asked with a wink.

“What do you mean?”

“We take simple jobs, sleep and eat at inns, things carry out as planned… And you’re still in one piece, not even a scratch.”

“You’ve got to be kidding!” Erik snarked, presenting his bruised forearm. The bruises and scratches on his face were almost gone, but he still remembered the beating he got ‘for his own good’.

“Kid, that’s nothing, believe me.” She dismissed nonchalantly. “It’s time to get going while it’s still bright.” She ushered.

“You’re the boss.” Erik agreed amiably, as they left the porch and walked down the road.

“Damned straight!” She laughed, slamming her fists against her hips.

“My Gods, is that you?” Someone called out from behind them.

They turned around. The source of the voice was a young, beaming girl. It was Fastred. Erik’s heart stopped beating for a moment. He had the irrational certainty she knew.

“Looking good Fastred!” Aza greeted the girl with a heartily smile so unusual for her. “How goes it?”

“You hadn’t heard? Klimmek and I got married!” She revealed with a big smile. “I’m a bit upset you didn’t show up at the ceremony.”

“Oh, you know… I can be hard to find at times.” Aza excused herself. “By the way, this is Erik. He’s shadowing me.”

“You’re lucky to be with her!” Fastred turned to the lad, still smiling. “She got me and my husband together, you know.”

“I’m happy for the both of you.” Erik shuttered, unable to look her in the eyes. That nice face of hers… He saw her cherry lips suck her man’s cock with sheer delight. He knew what she looked like underneath those plain clothes. He saw her huge tits drip with cum.

“I wanted to leave Ivarstead, but she convinced me staying in a small town wasn’t so bad.”

“Really?” Erik was surprised hearing so many good things about his companion.

“Well, this is nice and all, but we really ought to get going.” Aza interrupted the slowly blooming conversation. “It was nice to see you again Fastred, give my regards to the family!” She bid the girl, quickly pushing Erik down the road.

“If you ever find yourself in Ivarstead don’t hesitate to stop by!” The lass called after them.

“Good thing we got out of there. For a moment I thought blood was going to gush from those flushed cheeks of yours.” She scoffed as they got out of earshot.

“You told her to stay in that village? Why?”

“Because unlike you, she had a reason to stay.” She replied, knowing well why Erik asked such a question. “What now?” She asked displeased, seeing a wide, dumb grin appear on his face.

“You did something nice for someone!” Erik sang mockingly. “You did and don’t you try to deny it!”

“Erik, you have exactly one second to wipe that stupid grin off your face before I do it for you.” She threatened in a voice that would make a Dremora soil itself.

---

Keeping a slow but steady pace, they reached the south bank of Lake Geir. Dragonflies buzzed in the air, their metallic wings were mere blurs in the clear air. The road up ahead was passing what seemed to be an old, broken down tower.

“Damn, old abandoned towers like that one are a perfect hidey-hole for…”

“Bandits!” A man cried out, rushing towards them. “Please, I’ve been robbed by bandits!”

“Slow down, tell us what happened.” Aza ordered before Erik had a chance to utter a single word. Bandits… That’s a real challenge!

“My name is Telrav” the man explained briefly, nervously looking over his shoulder. “I’m a travelling merchant. I was on my way to Shor’s Stone when my caravan got sacked by bandits. They made their nest in that old tower, Nilheim they call it. Please! My life’s work had fallen into their hands!” He begged, falling to his knees.

Erik turned his eyes to Aza. She was smiling strangely… feral. She gave him a quick glance and winked.

“Well, if you’d be willing to share some of that life’s work with us for our help…”

“Of course!” Telrav sprang up with surprising speed. “Zenithar bless you! I’ll take you to them, quickly!” He urged, rushing forward.

“He’s not a merchant and he’s leading us straight into a bandit ambush.” She said quietly, still gnashing her astonishingly white teeth.

“How…?”

“Erik” she cut him off, briefly touching his shoulder, “you’re going to kill your first man today or die yourself. Brace yourself.”

The whelp nodded and followed her, as they walked straight into a trap.

---

He didn’t kill his first man that day. The first sentient being he’d slain was a Mer, a Wood Elf. Erik plunged his axe into the Bosmer’s shoulder, slashing him from collarbone to hip before the bandit even had a chance to draw his bow.

His second opponent was a Nord himself. Whilst he tried to bash him with his shield, Erik dashed and got behind him. He struck from above, aiming for the top of the head. The bandit’s skull broke with a gruesome sound, tiny pieces of bone and brain flew in all directions. The bandit fell to the ground still convulsing.

“Fall back, there’s too many of them!” Aza yelled, finishing off an Orc who almost bashed her skull with his mace. “Come on, back to the lake!” She commanded, pulling her sword out of the bloodied chest.

Erik dodged an incoming arrow and ran as fast as he could, followed by taunts and curses. People were far tougher than beasts and draugr. And far scarier.

“I got two!” He shouted surprised, as they rushed to the bank.

“I’ll congratulate you later! Come on, it’s not worth the risk!” She ushered, jumping over a rock.

“What about Telrav?”

“I cut that lying face of his!” In the slowly setting sun Aza’s blind eye shone insanely. “You want to check up on him? DAMN IT!” She shrieked as they were forced to halt. The side of the lake they found themselves at was a waterfall. A dead end. They were cornered.

“What now?” Erik’s voice didn’t shake unlike his hands. The chase was over, they had to fight for their lives or risk a long fall.

“You got two, I got three. I saw five more, including the chief. Telrav isn’t a threat, but there are six of them.” Suddenly, she realized one crucial detail. “And they’re all men.” She smiled tiredly, now knowing what to do.

“What are you talking about?! We jump or we fight!” He called, clenching his fists.

“No” she thought, “you jump. I… I’ll do my best.”

“What’s wrong with you? Come on!” He urged, pulling her arm.

Aza looked over the cliff. It was a long fall, but the water below seemed deep enough. There were rocks directly under the waterfall, so the force of the shove should be hard. Unrelenting.

“Aza!” He cried out. “Snap out of it! What do we do, jump or fight??”

She put her hands on his shoulders and gazed into his sincere face. It was fun having him around for those few days. She’ll miss that dumb farm boy with stars in his eyes. But she promised his father she’ll look after him. And if he stayed, he’d want to fight to the end. The only chance of survival was to get separated.

“Stay safe Erik.” She said, quickly kissing him on the cheek. She made one step backward and took a deep breath.

“What? No! You’re not ruling me out! I won’t…!”

“Fus… RO DAH!” She shouted. But it wasn’t her low, hoarse voice. It was something else. Its force threw Erik over the cliff like a ragdoll. He cried out her name and a curse before slamming into the water below.

The Redguard turned to face the approaching bandits. A Khajiit, two Nords and one Orc. The chief was not with them, he probably didn’t bother with the pursuit. Same was with Telrav. She cast her weapons aside and put her hands behind her head.

“Take me to your leader!” Her voice was as carefree as a Sundas morning.

---

His mouth and nose were filled with water. He had no idea where was the surface and where the bottom. He struggled to get a hold of something, anything that would help him get out of the current. The Divines aided him with a trunk of a broken down tree. He latched onto it and managed to crawl to the shore. Still on all fours, he coughed up water. He then crawled a few meters, still coughing and trying to gather his bearings. When his vision focused, he arose. He hadn’t broken anything, but he was still dizzy. He still felt the echo of the waterfall in his head, or perhaps it was… whatever she shouted at him. His axe was gone, so was his purse.

He brushed his hair off his face, his braids were undone, but he paid no mind. If anyone who knew him could see him now, they wouldn’t believe that the man with burning eyes and tightly shut lips was the same young and cheerful Erik. The person who crawled out of the water was preoccupied with one thing only – murder. The thought of retreat didn’t cross his mind for even a second. That bitch! When it got too hot, she got rid of him like he was some annoying child! She was now either dead or the bandits’ plaything. But speculation was pointless, he had to get back there and kill every single one of them. And if she’s alive by the time he’s done with them, he’s going to make her sorry.

“Bitch, you better be alive when I get my hands on you, because I’m going to kill you!” He roared climbing the steep, winding path leading up to Nilheim. Despite the rage blazing inside him, he knew he was as good as dead if he tried the direct approach. Not to mention he was unarmed. He had to play it smart.

---

“How long will the boss be busy with that slut? I got the itch like Oblivion itself!” One of the Nords nagged.

“The boss will let you have your fun once he’s done with her” the Khajiit purred. “But first he will share her with Telrav. And then, she’s this one’s playmate.” The cat’s amber eyes narrowed as he drifted away to dreamland. His long, rough tongue licked his teeth, as he imagined the sounds the human female would make when he uses it on her.

“I’m not touching any ass you might have used, alley cat!”

Before the Nord and Khajiit could tear each other’s throats out, the Orc hit his fist against the table. The four of them were waiting for their turn with the captured slut, as they kept a lookout at the bottom of the tower. It was already dark, the chief was busy with her for over an hour. But before they handled her over, they gave her a quick beating to docile her up a bit. And while they were at it, they got her to suck their sweaty cocks and swallow their loads with a sword at her throat in case she hesitates. She didn’t.

“If anyone gets their turn next, it’s going to be me! And if any of you idiots got a problem with that we can always… Where are you going?!” He grunted, seeing as the other Nord, the archer of the band, was about to leave.

“Gotta take a leak.” He muttered with a yawn.

“Hurry up, this will be a long night.”

The archer wandered away from the torchlit side of the camp. He sunk into the tall bushes and unfastened his pants with relief. Before the first drops reached the ground, his head was grabbed from behind. With a sharp, violent pull Erik broke his neck, instantly reuniting the bandit with his ancestors. Quietly, he searched the body. Aside from the bow and an almost empty quiver, he found a decent steel dagger. Those will have to do for now.

He crept up to the edge of the shrubbery. From there, he had a clear shot on any of the remaining three. The Orc was the most obvious choice, but as he noticed a heavy oil lamp hanging from a branch above the table, he got a better idea. He drew an arrow, holding his breath. Crops were never a problem in Rorikstead, but meat was more difficult to obtain, especially during winter. When there wasn’t much to do, father would let him take his old long bow and hunt for rabbits. Erik wasn’t a sharpshooter, but he seldom returned empty handed.

“Surprise” he whispered releasing the arrow. The dart cut the cool night air and struck the lamp. It hit the center of the table, spraying fire and sizzling oil in all directions. The Khajiit’s fur instantly went ablaze, the cat cried in pain and ran towards what he thought was the lake. Shielding his eyes from the flames, he couldn’t see a solid tree blocking his path. He clashed against the trunk, losing consciousness only to get choked by the smoke.

“Come out!” The Orc called, pulling out his axe. The remaining Nord armed himself with two short swords. “Must be the little hero!” He mocked, slowly approaching the bushy wall. “Came after his nanny, did we?”

Another arrow shot from between the branches, missing the Orc.

“There he is!” The Nord rushed towards Erik’s position. A second later, he fell dead with an arrow sticking from out of his eye. Erik cast the now useless bow aside. There was only the Orc remaining.

“Thanks, kid! The less of these idiots alive, the more of your stuff for me!” The Orsimer taunted, slowly retreating. He had time, it’s the whelp that’s going to have to come to him.

He sat on a nearby barrel, surveying the field around him. The pup tried to play it smart, eh? “When the chief and his toady are done with her, I’m going to plough her like no one had ever before!” He laughed, gnashing his bestial incisors. He sensed movement behind him just in time to dodge. The dagger struck the barrel’s lid instead of his back.

“Well now, look at you! Almost had me there!” The Orc whistled impressed.” And what are you going to do with that little knife, hm? Give me a shave?” He taunted.

“Nope” the young Nord’s eyes had a cold, cruel glow. “It’s just for slowing you down.”

He kicked dirt straight into the Orc’s face. As the bandit staggered back, he plunged the dagger into his chest. He knew he had no chance of defeating him with simple tricks. He didn’t even bother with checking if the dagger found any vital spots. He rushed to his kinsman’s corpse for the swords. As he pried them from the previous wielder’s hands, his instinct told him to roll to the ground. He did so, avoiding a close encounter with the orichalcum axe.

“I’m going to drink from your skull!” The Orc groaned, with bloodshot eyes. The dagger was sticking from his bare chest, bleeding steadily. Erik knew his only chance was to keep dodging and wait for the green-skinned titan to make a mistake.

“You’re already dead, so stop squirming!” The Orc called, trying to land a hit on the swift lad. Erik seized opportunity and cut his thigh in one clean swipe. Blood gushed from the severed artery. The bandit roared savagely. He was going berserk, Erik had little time left.

“Are you going to use that axe, or should I wait for the bleeding to do the job for me?” He asked, narrowing his clear blue eyes.

The Orsimer roared, foam dripped form his mouth. He raised his muscular arms, tightly clenching his weapon. The attack was intended to be powerful, but too slow. Erik leapt towards him, the swords plunged into the Orc’s chest and abdomen. Blood and more foam shot from the Orsimer’s mouth as he released the axe, the gruesome weapon plunged into the ground. But he didn’t collapse. His huge, green hands grabbed Erik by the wrists, pulling him closer and jamming the blades deeper. His beastly eyes gazed into his with pure hate, his nails cutting the lad’s wrists.

“So much risk for a whore who gave in without…” the outlaw choked on his own blood. He released Erik’s wrists, falling over with a contemptuous look on his savage face.

The field was the site of his victory. But the fight was not over yet, he still had a tower to climb. He took the gruesome axe, too bad the dagger broke off and the weapon was now useless. Never mind, just two more to go.

He crossed the stone bridge and approached the tower, listening in on any activity. He heard nothing. He suddenly recalled a fairytale about a brave knight, who went to rescue the fair princess imprisoned in a tower by some vile, evil creature. Right…

The staircase was illuminated by torches. After passing a few steps, he was temporarily blinded by the contrast. That was his mistake. He felt burning pain on his left cheek and neck. Staggering back, he managed to block the next attack aimed at his throat. Telrav. His head was covered in bandages, save for his mouth and one eye. Blood was soaking through the rags. Blood was also on his iron dagger. Erik’s blood.

“You…” they both hissed.

There was no time for dramatic speeches or taunts. Erik attacked first. He pinned the bandit scum to the wall with the axe’s handle pressing against his throat and wrists. Telrav drooled intensely, his grip on the dagger loosened, the blade fell on the steps with a hollowed sound. But the youngster had no intention of strangling him. He plunged his knee into Telrav’s gut and stepped back. The fraud fell to knees coughing.

“She blew me!” He said, laughing hysterically. “She blew all of us before the boss got his hands on her! We didn’t even have to ask!” With a chuckle he raised his head. His eye widened when he saw the axe heading straight for his neck. His head fell down the steps, followed by blood slithering lazily like a macabre red carpet.

Erik spat on Telrav’s twitching body, his saliva was thick and metallic. Only the chief was left. He had a feeling that the door to the top of the tower would be locked. He also had a feeling, that the key was on Telrav’s headless body. He wasn’t mistaken. He climbed the stairs as quietly as he could, paying no mind to his bleeding face and neck, faintly realizing he was going to have a scar… If he lives long enough for the wound to heal.

“You call this a fuck?” He heard a pained scream as he was almost at the top. “I had Bretons do me harder!”

Aza. Still alive.

“Keep talking sister, and I’ll gag you and have my boys heat up the tools.” The chief’s voice had that deep tone so typical for Redguards.

“You’re going to have to kill me, you know? Because I’m going to tear you a new one!” She promised with her throat tight.

“It’s going to be a waste of such a fine piece of ass, but life’s life.” He laughed. Erik picked up pace.

“Fuck you!” She yelled futilely.

“Damn, did you kiss your boy with that mouth?”

Erik clenched his teeth, feeling another wave of rage flooding his mind. He shoved the key brutally into its hole and kicked the door open.

---

It was bad, but she had it worse. The four bastards manhandled her a bit, then made her blow them and swallow, before dragging to Nilheim. There, she had the pleasure of kicking Telrav in the family jewels as he was undoing his pants. From there the chief took her upstairs. He gave her another beating to act as foreplay. Nothing severe, just enough to work out his frustration and show who’s boss. He had no imagination when it came to beating and abusing her, and for that she was grateful. She met a lot of sick bastards who were full of ideas when it came to torture and rape. Thankfully, her captors were at the level of punches, kicks and monotonous pounding with their dicks, until they came with an embarrassing squeal. Though she had it far worse in the past, it was still painful and humiliating, but not enough to break her. She just had to endure, hoping that after they’re done with her, she’ll have a chance to escape. Robbed and beaten, but alive. And she hoped they won’t want to keep her as a twisted ‘pet’ or take any souvenirs, like a finger, ear or nipple…

She prayed Erik survived the fall. If he did, he should be far away by now, far away to be safe. It was the least she could do for him. Pity, Erik was showing promise. And it was fun to have him tag along, if not for his amusing company, then to observe how he was learning about the world outside of Rorikstead. Guess his last lesson was more than he’d bargain for.

“What’s the matter? Too soft for you?” The head bandit asked, thrusting harder.

He was sitting on a solid tall chair that could easily pass up as a throne. She was sitting on his laps, with her wrists and ankles hogtied behind her back. The leather strips binding her were rough and tight, biting into her flesh. Her palms and knees were grazed. Her tits and neck were covered with bitemarks and bruises. The scratches on her back and palm prints on her ass, painted an ugly picture.

“You call this a fuck?” She screamed through the pain. “I had Bretons do me harder!”

“Keep talking sister, and I’ll gag you and have my boys heat up the tools.” He threatened amused, shoving his meat even harder.

His penis was short, but incredibly thick, with a blunt, bulbous cap. It painfully yanked her jaw, almost dislocating it. Then it wrecked her pussy and asshole. And the bastard just kept coming, filling her insides with more and more of his undesired jizz.

“You’re going to have to kill me, you know? Because I’m going to tear you a new one!” She promised with her throat tight.

“It’s going to be a waste of such a fine piece of ass, but life’s life.” He laughed.

“Fuck you!” She yelled. In return, he slapped her across her swollen face. There was no use in fooling herself, they wouldn’t just let her go. She had to wait for them to lower their guard. Or die trying.

“Damn, did you kiss your boy with that mouth?”

She’s going to bite him. She’s going to chew his face off! If they’re going to kill her, at least she’s going to give them a god reason to!

The door was forced open by a kick. A blood and gore covered wraith entered, yielding an axe. Fresh red drops dripped from the blade. The embodiment of carnage had fury written all over its face. Even if Aza’s good eye wasn’t blackened and swollen, she would have trouble recognizing the barbarian who busted into the room. But it was Erik.

“I am not a boy” he said slowly through clenched teeth. His voice was of a man who walked a dark path, killing anyone who got in his way. And he wasn’t done yet.

Before the chief realized what was going on, Aza gathered all her remaining strength and headbutted him, breaking his nose and front teeth.

“What are you waiting for?!” She cried, bending backwards as far as she could.

Erik reached the throne in three long leaps and took a wide, powerful swing. His upper body twisted, his arms launched the axe straight at the head bandit’s throat. The wide orichalcum blade flew above Aza’s face and severed the head from the shoulders, jamming into the thick wooden backrest. Erik released the handle, the axe remained in place, with the Redguard chiefman’s head resting on it like a gruesome dish on a plate.

He killed them. All six of them. And she was still alive, so he could… Gods, her face… What did they do to her?! A minute before he was furious with her, ready to walk into Oblivion and back just to get his hands on her. But seeing her beaten, abused and violated instantly snapped him back to reality. She was still bending backwards, not wanting to meet with the axe or the bloodied head. She released a pathetic groan as fresh cum leaked from within her, onto the dead man’s lap and floor. The moment he died, the chief came one last spasm.

“By the Nine…” Erik whispered in his normal voice. He untied her and helped her on her feet, as she was too weak to stand straight. The dead man’s cock popped out of her with a disgusting sound. She pushed Erik away and hobbled to the window. Bending over the frame she vomited loudly. Her abdomen convulsed, more vile fluids leaked out from her, marking her legs and floor.

“Aza…”

“What are you doing here?!” She gravely asked, facing him. He didn’t expect her to be thankful, but he didn’t think she’ll be this infuriated either.

“I came to get back at them. And to get you back.” He said quietly.

“That was stupid. It’s a miracle you’re alive. And who do you take me for? I know what I’m doing. I am not a damsel in distress, you damned…” she coughed hoarsely, falling to the sticky floor.

“And who do you take me for?” He asked, kneeling next to her, trying his best not to do anything abrupt. “I’m treating this whole thing seriously and you get rid of me like a pest!”

“I saved your life, you ungrateful brat!” She was too tired to shout.

“And I came back for you!”

“Oh, the brave hero rescues his…”

“You’re not mine!” He interrupted her tirade. “Why would I even want someone like you? You’re a whore and a brute, but…” His voice suddenly softened. He wasn’t angry with her anymore. He felt too much pity. “But you got me out of Rorikstead. And you took care of me. I owe you. And damn it, I’m loyal to you, doesn’t that matter anything?” He asked, bending forward to get a better look at her beaten face. Her green eye was barely visible through the swollen eyelids.

“It does.” She agreed quietly. “I’d never travel with someone who wouldn’t watch my back. Help me up.”

He let her wrap her arms around his neck and support herself. The effort was too great for her, she hissed, biting her already bloody lips.

“Aza…” he whispered, holding her tighter. He wanted to do something to ease her pain. A bit at least.

“If you say something that’s supposed to comfort me, I’ll hurt you.” She muttered, looking away. “I told you I had this happen to me before. It’s nothing.”

“It is!”

“No, Erik!” She wheezed, but managed not to cough anymore. “This shit can happen. They beat me and fucked me. But they didn’t break me. I’m alive, the wounds will soon heal. I’m not anyone’s slave, and I hadn’t been crippled for life. Believe me, there are far worse things that they could do to me. I know, because I had things so messed up happen to me, that…” she suddenly felt tired “… that would turn a lesser woman into a mindless shell.” She walked up to the throne and picked the Redguard bastard’s head by his long dreadlocks. “There are people far more evil and twisted than this pathetic fuck. Trust me.” She said calmly, throwing the head into the fireplace. “Damn it, I can barely see a thing…” She sighed, pressing her palms to her eyes.

“They paid for what they did to you. All of them.” Erik swore, realizing his face was still bleeding. But it was barely noticeable under the thick coat of bandit blood and bits of flesh he didn’t want to identify. He even got some on Aza when he was holding her tight.

“You’re going to have a scar.” She foretold sadly. “Pity. You had such a sweet face.”

“Don’t mind me, it’s no big deal.” He brushed her concern off.

“Did you really get all of them?”

“All five.” He admitted with a nod. For a second the cold gleam returned, but was quickly dulled by the sympathy in his eyes.

“I’ll be at the lake. I got to wash them off me.” She said tiredly. “Take anything there is of value, we need the money.”

“Are you sure you don’t need my help?” He offered, seeing as she was feebly heading towards the door.

“I have to do this alone. Loot them to your heart’s content, then join me. You look like a damned madman.” She said, leaving the scene.

She didn’t bother with getting dressed, as her armor was ripped into pieces. The loss of it hurt her more than her own wounds and pride. There was only one forge in all of Skyrim that could make ancient Nord armor. The Skyforge in Whiterun. And there were no plans of visiting Whiterun hold in the nearest future.

At the bottom of the stairs was another headless corpse. Telrav. That brat… he acted like a man. He came back, and the very flames of Oblivion had no fury like his. She saw him like this before, in the shed. When he was pushed to the limits he wasn’t himself. When he snapped, he was… destructive, but managed to think and calculate in a cold, measured way. This was both a blessing and a curse. She should keep an eye on his darker side less it takes over the good in him.

She got out of that cursed tower and for a moment couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The dead Orc with three bleeding wounds, the Nord with an arrow sticking out of his eye, and the badly burned body of what she could only assume was a Khajiit. As she was tearing through the bushes she caught a glimpse of Erik’s final victim. The Nord archer’s head was unnaturally twisted, the youngster snapped his neck like a twig.

If someone told her Erik could wreck carnage like that, she would laugh in their face. His sincere, friendly disposition gave no hint he could kill with such… precision. Not like berserkers who mindlessly tore their foes apart, but with merciless cunning.

“Malacath’s fat cock…” She whispered horrified. He did all of this! Did he do it for her, or to satisfy his hunger for revenge? No matter. She needed a bath. She walked into the cold, clear water and submersed herself in it.

---

The chief had gold, lots of it. Enough to buy a good warhorse. And aside from the gold, there were also trinkets, a few jewels and good quality clothes. Erik realized that the bandits’ procedure must have been ongoing for quite some time. How many people have they lured here and killed? How many women became their victims? He didn’t want to know. All that mattered was that Aza was alive and they could get going.

He glimpsed at the head smoldering in the fireplace. Funny, the morbid sight hadn’t bothered him even the slightest bit. He didn’t feel twisted joy, but wasn’t disturbed either. He had no idea what to make of that.

He found Aza’s gear. Her armor was damaged beyond repair. But her sword and dagger were in perfect condition. Same was with a small sack containing her personal belongings. He packed everything he could carry into sacks and went down the staircase. He passed Telrav’s body not paying it the slightest thought. He was aware of it, but didn’t care. The same was with the rest of the bandit corpses. He just wanted to get out of there.

“Get over here.” Aza called out to him from the lake.

He left the loot on the sand and walked into the water without stripping out of his armor. He dived and resurfaced, feeling his face itch, but the cold provided him some relief. He looked at her. She was eying him with unfamiliar concern.

“Did you take a good look at what you did?” She asked.

“Yes.”

“What do you make of it?”

“I remember everything I did. I’m not proud of it. But I regret nothing” he confessed. “They deserved it.”

“Why?” She didn’t make the slightest move.

“They were preying on innocent people. They wanted to kill us.” He now realized why she pushed him off the cliff. “If I staid, they’d kill me and use you anyway. Then… They’d know you’d want revenge, so they’d have to kill you. You got rid of me because that gave us at least a slight chance.”

“Exactly.”

“But I want you to know something.” Under the water, his hands closed on her shoulders. “We’re in this together. If you pull off another stunt like that, for my good or not… I’m going to find you.”

“I know.” She said in all seriousness.

They got back to the shore. Aza was now walking with more confidence, but it still cost her a lot of strain.

“I got your weapons back. But your armor is of no use anymore.” Erik said, watching if she was about to collapse.

“Pity. Well… there’s a good smith in Riften, we should head out now. What’d you find?”

“Treasure.”

“Don’t joke around.”

“I’m telling the truth.” He said, opening the sacks.

“Damn!” She exclaimed, going through them. The loot was at least some compensation.

“And there’s gold. This should get us on your feet. And get you some new armor.”

“Are you going to make me your kept woman?” She joked, carefully sitting on the sand.

“Only if you ask me nicely.”

“Fuck you, Erik.”

He gave her a plain, brown tunic and a healing potion he’d found. She drank it slowly, trying to plan what to do now. She insisted that he use the rest of the mixture to take care of his wound. The cut closed, but was still visible. A scar was inevitable.

“Come on.” She said, adjusting her weapons. “We got a lot of distance to cover.”

“Can you walk?”

“Gods damn it, you’re taking this worse than I am. Come on! I need to visit an alchemist, a healer and get some decent rest. And some booze.” She enumerated, already growing annoyed. Erik was relieved to hear the familiar unpleasant tone.

He had to make sure they got to Riften safely. There was one thing bothering him, but this wasn’t the time to ask. How was she able to shout him off a cliff?

Chapter Text

“Ugh, this tastes like… Well, I had a lot of disgusting things in my mouth, but trust me, this is one of the grossest!” Aza burped, throwing the empty bottle into the canal.

“What was that potion for?”

“Contraceptive. I’m not risking getting knocked up by some bandit scum.” She muttered.

They reached Riften shortly after sunrise on the second day. First, they visited the Temple of Mara where a healer took care of their wounds. From there, they went to the alchemist to stock up on cure disease and contraceptive potions. They were on their way to the blacksmith to buy her a new set of armor. Erik tried to convince her they should get a room at the Bee and Barb, so she could get some rest after hiking for so long with barely any sleep, but she was stubborn.

“I’m not going to sleep easily knowing I have no armor!” She insisted.

“Well, you look nice.” He said, seeing her strong, yet curvy figure bulging underneath the plain clothes.

“Aww, Erik!” She said pressing her palm to her chest. “You say the sweetest things!”

“But you do look better.” Erik said, examining her face. The swelling was gone, but she had a black eye. She had a few burns and bruises as well, but overall looked much better. Her pace was faster, but not as fast as her usual tempo. And she started nagging and criticizing, which was a very good sign.

The blacksmith was a huge man, who had a surprisingly pleasant disposition. Aza ordered a set of steel armor with pauldrons and matching pairs of steel cuffed boots and gauntlets. The blacksmith insisted that they pay less, saying something about Fire Salts and being a good friend to him. They were more than happy to oblige. They sold him some of the looted weapons and miscellaneous items for a small, but fair sum. Erik left his new axe for sharpening, and they headed towards the Bee and Barb.

“My, is that you? I almost didn’t recognize you underneath all those bruises!” A woman called after them.

“Haelga!” If Erik didn’t know his companion that well, he would mistake her tone for friendly. “How’s it going?”

“Good.” The woman replied, jerking the corners of her lips upward. Her eyes remained cold and scrutinized the Redguard form head to toe.

She was the most attractive Nord female Erik had ever seen. Fair, golden haired and azure-eyed. She was beautiful, but there was something cold and arrogant about her.

“What happened? Rough night?” The woman asked insincerely.

“You could say that. We got ambushed by bandits who raped me the entire night and would have surely killed me, if it weren’t for Erik here. He can do wonders with an axe.” Aza said with an innocent smile as if she was talking about the weather.

“Oh…” Haelga was speechless.

“Yep, rough night indeed. But I’m sure you know what a rough night really looks like, eh?”

“Now wait just a minute!” Haelga puffed offended.

“Sorry, no time.” Aza sighed, turning her back on her. “I puked all their cum out after my boy here decapitated the chief and I’m hungry like a wolf!”

They left the dumbfounded Nord woman and entered the inn.

“Who was that?” He asked, making no note of Aza’s shocking and vulgar behavior. He got used to it.

“A bitch and a hypocrite. She owns the local bunkhouse and fucks anyone she pleases. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but it really annoys me when someone of little moral standards excuses themselves with religion and acts all holier than thou, you know? ‘Dibellan arts’, my arse!”

“Should we get a room and order our food upstairs?” He suggested.

“No. I want to dine here, with other people.”

“You’re sure you don’t want to get some rest and… you know, put all that happened behind?”

“You mean forget? Never!” She refused downright.

They ordered their food along with booking a room and a bath, then sat at one of the tables. Erik just realized how hungry he was.

“Eat properly! I swear, you’re just like…” She was about to scold him, but suddenly fell silent.

“Like who?” He asked curious.

“Never mind.” She said, reaching for the bread.

“Sure, whatever… So, what did you mean when you said you don’t want to forget?”

“I meant that I’ll move on, sure. But I have no intention of forgetting. This happened. I survived. And came out of it with more scars, but… Ah, you get the general idea, right?” She yawned as Erik nodded.

“Listen…” this seemed the right moment to ask the question that was bothering him all the way to Riften.

“Yea?” She asked raising her brow. He was going to ask about…

“How’d you know Telrav wasn’t a travelling merchant?” To her relief, he was preoccupied with that small detail.

“Before I had to take up what you call adventuring, I’ve spend most of my life among travelling merchants back in Hammerfell.” She said with a relieved sigh. He didn’t ask about the Shout… yet. Instead, their acquaintance came to the point where he was interested in her personal history.

“What I call adventuring? So, what do you call this sort of life?”

“Surviving and running.” She explained patiently.

“Why do you say you had to take it up?” He inquired further. He didn’t know anything meaningful about her. And he just realized that he really wanted to.

“Erik, I’m too tired for this… Let’s just eat and go upstairs, okay?”

“Okay” he agreed. “But you’re not laying me off that easily.”

“I noticed you’re hard to lose.” She said with a smirk.

They ate in silence, but Erik couldn’t help feeling they were being watched. And they were.

“That guy over there is staring at you.” He whispered, pointing his fork to her right.

“He’s on my blind side. I can’t see him without getting obvious. What does he look like?”

“Well…” Erik surveyed the man with the corner of his eye. “Nord. Red hair. Goatee. Green eyes. Fine dressed.” He enumerated, trying not to sound jealous. The stranger was the most eye-catching kinsman he had ever seen. Erik wasn’t attracted to other men, but he had to admit, that one sure was something.

“Brynjolf. I know him.”

“You do?” Erik suddenly felt strange certainty Aza bedded him. What woman wouldn’t? “Oh…”

“Oh, don’t give me that look!” She puffed, knowing the reason behind his concern. “I hadn’t slept with him. And I never will.”

“Well, the leer he’s giving you says otherwise.”

“Erik” she said, smiling warmly and pulling herself closer, “he’s not looking at me. He’s looking at you.”

The lad felt as if someone whipped him alongside his spine. He nervously glanced to the red-haired man. He was smiling disturbingly and raising his mug. Aza turned towards him and did the same. Erik raised his mug as well, and quickly looked away.

After the meal, Erik picked their sacks and followed her to the room. Their current place to stay was roomier than the inns he got used to. The interior was wooden and scarcely decorated, but the bed was not a mere hay mattress with furs pulled over it, but had eiderdown pillows and a thick, soft mattress. The bath was lavish as well, the tub was big enough to fit two people.

“Gods, I needed this!” The Redguard confessed, pulling her tunic over her head. She quickly slid into the tub, undoing her braids and ruffling her thick black hair. “Care to join me?” She asked.

“No thanks. I’ll just watch.” Erik declined, sitting on the bed. He was tired, his muscles were tendrils of pain. But he had no intention of sleeping. Riften was the first big city he had ever been to aside from Whiterun, but he always visited the capital of his hold accompanying father when he was on business. He was curious of Riften. He lazily observed his companion, as she dunked and bobbed up, water dripping lazily from her breasts…

“Do you take pleasure in peeping on bathing women?” She asked jokingly, noticing his blissful look.

“Only Redguards.” He answered truthfully, for a second drifting away to one of his most pleasant childhood memories. He scratched his still fresh scar. He would never grow hairs on it. He walked up to the small mirror hanging on the wall to get a good look at it. “Gods…” he whispered.

The cut was wide, but clean. It reached from his cheek, ending on the edge of his jawline only to continue on the side of his neck. It was still red, but should fade away in a matter of weeks. He noticed that there was something different about his face. During those few days he gained a certain grim maturity. After what he’d seen and done, he wasn’t surprised to notice rows on his forehead, and a new, determined look in his eyes.

“Yes, yes, you’re going to be breaking hearts soon! Now come and wash my back, I can’t reach with my arms still pained.” She called out.

“You wouldn’t mind if I loitered around the city a bit?” He asked, getting behind her and gently scrubbing her skin. Water dripped from her hair causing it to shine intensely in the morning light slipping through the window.

“I’m not your nanny, do whatever you damned please. While you’re gone, I’m going to bed with my best friend; hard liquor!” She announced carefreely, bending forward so that he could work her lower back as well.

“Okay. I’ll be back before sundown. And I’ll bring your armor while I’m at it.” He offered, trying to make no mention of her bruises, cuts and scratches.

“Sure. But Erik!” She looked over her shoulder. “Be careful. This is Riften, home to the Thieves Guild. And the Black-Briars, a clan of backstabbers and criminals.”

“I’ll try not to get into any trouble.” He assured.

“Good. And don’t take any valuables with you. Even the lowliest local footpad could rob you of your shirt without you noticing.” She warned.

“Okay. I’ll just take a few coins to buy myself a drink. I’ll see you later.” He said, walking out of the room.

“Come back soon. I get bored easily.” Aza whispered, writhing her hair. She finished her bath and stepped out of the tub. Without bothering with drying herself, she fell on the bed naked and reached for a bottle of Hammerfell rum that was ordered with the room and bath. An expensive purchase, but she needed it. She chugged, feeling the familiar burning in her throat and stomach. That was the stuff! But she had no intention of sleeping yet. She had to do some pondering.

---

Erik wandered idly around Riften, listening on people’s conversations and marveling over Lake Honrich, but he was mostly thinking. About his life, himself, Aza… She was… okay. He still considered her an unpredictable wench, but he now knew he could trust her. And she could act decent. For a short moment, but it still counted. He was weary of the lower levels of the city, near the canal, and kept mostly to the market district. He saw Mistveil Keep, which was far more impressive than Dragonsreach. The air was warm and smelled of birch and honey. This morning was just enough to relax him after smelling so much blood and sweat.

He always liked listening to any news left by travelers passing through Rorikstead. But the little hamlet was nothing compared to a big and thriving city full of people. The news and rumors they passed from one to another were disturbing. The civil war was still ongoing, and now this talk of dragons… And the Dragonborn. Folk were saying that the appearance of the Gods’ chosen meant this was the end of an era. Or the end of times. But that was just crazy talk. Or so they hoped.

As this was Stormcloak territory, he had a completely new perspective on the situation brewing in Skyrim. Truth be told, he and his father secretly worshiped Talos. Still, he had no interest in politics and the affairs of the lords, as he was preoccupied with the troubles of the common people; beasts, bandits, monsters… dragons maybe?

It was now late in the afternoon, he had to get back. Finally feeling the lack of sleep slowly paying its toll on him, he head towards the Scorched Hammer for the armor and axe. He approached Balimund, the smith, over at his forge.

“Your friend’s armor is ready, lucky I already had a set forged, it only needed some adjustments. But the axe needed a bit more attention. The blade was severely jagged, that’s usual when you…” the blacksmith paused, “… use it too much.”

“Wood. I swung it too hard and it got stuck in a tree trunk.” Erik calmly lied. The smith knew the youngster was lying, but it wasn’t any of his business. Weapons were made to be used, not carried around to impress people.

“Right, ten bits extra” he named the price.

“Sure.” Erik reached for his coinpurse. It was missing. “Damn it!”

“This must be yours, lad!” Behind him appeared the red-haired man who wouldn’t take his eyes off him in the morning. “You dropped it.” He said with a friendly smile.

There was something disturbingly alluring about his accent. Erik took his money back without a word and paid for the repair. Aza was right, Riften was dangerous underneath the sleepy facade. The blacksmith made no comment on the scene.

“So, Balimund, how’s business?” Brynjolf asked, whilst Erik was busy gathering his gear. The upstart nodded as a farewell, positive he would be followed.

“None of yours.” The blacksmith replied gravely.

“Ah, I bid you good day, then!” The rogue replied cheerfully and turned to catch up with Erik.

“Where?” The lad asked when Brynjolf appeared next to him. He needn’t ask to know the man was with the Guild.

“In the alley next to the Pawned Prawn. Not the most alert one, eh lad?” The thief asked, gazing into his profile. He was particularly drawn by Erik’s fresh scar.

“What do you want?” Erik abruptly asked, halting. The armor he was carrying was starting to get heavy, but he knew the rogue wouldn’t just leave him alone.

“Why so defensive?” Brynjolf asked, his sly face was somehow the picture of innocence.

He was usually into men his own age, but there was something about that whelp. He had a nice, boyish face, but there was something hard about him as well. The sharp look in his clear blue eyes and the way he tightly shut his lips suggested a recent introduction to harsh, brutal reality. And that scar… It gave him character. Brynjolf was curious how the stud would look from a different angle. On his knees and sucking his cock, for example. Were his lips as soft as they seemed? Would his eyes go watery, or would he give him a daring look and take it like a man? Would those cheeks get flushed, as he sinks his hands into that red mane and push his head to the limits…?

“Spit it out, or leave me alone. I have things to do.” Erik’s voice snapped him into reality. The lad hated being leered at like that. Man, woman, traditionalist or same sex-loving, it didn’t matter. There was only one exception to that rule. And he had to get back to her.

“Right, I can’t seem to find the lass anywhere, so I thought you could deliver a message to her.”

“Lass?“ Erik was confused. ‘Lass’ was the last thing he’d call Aza.

“Aye” the thief nodded amused. “Tell her I have a favor to ask…”

“I hope it’s not anything illicit”.

“Sharp lad. No, it’s something more… personal. Ask her to meet me as soon as possible. And tell her…” For a moment he was hesitant. “I’m desperate.” He said looking away.

Erik nodded. Brynjolf left him and headed towards the secret entrance to the Ragged Flagon. He needed a drink to drown his problems. And to cool his loins down.

The whelp was about to enter the inn, but he noticed a Dunmer merchant clearing her stall after a long day of hard work. She was packing crushed ice into leather sacks, whistling a tune. That gave him an idea.

---

“I’m back! I got your armor and a little something!” He said, entering the room. “What are you doing?” He asked suddenly, surprised at what was waiting for him.

“I was waiting for you. Dump your spoils in the corner.” Aza said approaching him.

The tub was gone and the room was candlelit. The air bore the smell of exotic spices. Her dark skin was glossy and smelled of scented oils. She wore nothing, her hair was loose and disheveled, but somewhat appealing. In the soft, warm light he could see she was intoxicated.

“How much did you drink?” He asked, putting the items away.

“A lot. But I’m slowly sobering up, you were away for so long.” She confessed, putting her hands on her hips.

“I see you’ve been busy.” He said cautiously. What was she up to this time?

“I wanted to make the place look nice for your return.” She said with a whimsy smile, trying her best not to fall over.

“Um… why?” He had a bad feeling about this.

“Because…” she made one step forward and tripped over her own feet. Erik got to her just in time to keep her from falling. “Because…” she went on, looking him in the eyes. “You’re going to have sex with me tonight.”

“What? Stop joking around!” He said, pulling her up. She was pleasantly slippery. “Come on, off to bed with you! I have to get some sleep as well.” He instructed, leading het towards the bed.

“We both know this will happen eventually.” She foretold as she sat on its edge. Erik turned around and started undoing his armor. “Why not have it over with now, when we have a nice room to stay and enough gold not to worry about tomorrow?”

“I reckon half of it is already gone.” He guessed, throwing his armor on the chair.

“We have enough to live modestly starting tomorrow. But about tonight…” She reached to grab his hand, but he turned around. Her hand found nothing and clenched thin air.

“Go to sleep.” He said softly. He was tired.

“Okay, I get it.” She replied calmly, bowing her head. “I understand you don’t want me, knowing how many I had, willingly or not. Goodnight.” She bid him, faking a smile. She rested on her side, her back facing him.

“Damn it…” he sighed, undoing his loincloth. “Hey, it’s not like that.” He said, sitting at the very same spot she was occupying just a second ago.

“It’s okay. No need to explain yourself.” She dismissed, not bothering to look over her shoulder.

“Aza…” he softly whispered, lying beside her. “Come on, look at me, you stupid wretch.” He pleaded, putting his hand on her shoulder and gently turning her over.

“I don’t want your pity!” She puffed, allowing him to wrap his arms around her.

“Who says I pity you?” He laughed. “I know we’ll eventually end up in bed. I’m not that oblivious, you know.”

“So, why not now?” She nagged, burying her face in his chest.

“Because I don’t want to ‘get it over with’. When you’ll mount me and take me for the ride of my life, I want it to be memorable.”

“Oh my special little snowflake!” She sneered. “And I assume you’ll want me to be gentle and whisper softly into your ear?”

“Whatever works for you.”

“Dumb virgin.” She muttered. Just a few days earlier, he’d do anything to get laid. Why hesitate now?

“Mean harlot.” He struck back, holding her tighter. “I know you had legions before me. I don’t mind. I knew from the start, what a nasty wretch you are. I’m not bothered.”

“Watch it there, kid!” She warned, sinking her nails into his back.

“I’m not a kid anymore.” He corrected. “By the way, your friend from earlier in the inn said he needs to ask you a favor. And he’s desperate.” He said, stressing out the last word.

“I’ll look into it in the morning. Goodnight.” She sighed, attempting to turn around again, but Erik was holding her too tight.

“Off to sleep so soon?” He asked, suddenly feeling invigorated. He knew what he should do now. And he wanted to do it badly.

“What else can I do after being so cruelly turned down by you?”

“I have an idea.” His hand slid from her back, down her oiled skin, and squeezed her buttock. “I won’t let you take my innocence tonight, but I thought… You were so nice to me, so maybe you’ll finally let me return the favor?”

“Oh?” Her voice had that lecherous tone he knew so damned well. “And what did you have in mind?” She asked, looking up to meet with his eyes. Erik was smiling supposedly promiscuous. He was terrible at it.

“I bet none of those bastards ever bothered to use their mouths and loosen you up a bit.”

“Yeah, the likes of them are all talk. No skill whatsoever.” She agreed.

“Maybe I could give you a nice comforting lick to help you sleep better? Or maybe two? Or just enough to make you come?” He proposed.

Aza said nothing, instead gently nibbling on his throat. Damned brat. But she could use some oral service.

“Ask me to do it.” He ordered, slipping lower and caressing her breasts. His tongue met with the warm skin, the mixture of sweat and oils tasted sweet and a bit salty.

“Lick my pussy, Erik. I want to feel your tongue and lips.” She pleaded, arching her back.

“It shall be done, my lady.” He declared chivalrous, sliding his tongue between her tits.

“Oh, shut up and get to work.”

Erik knew that there will come a time when the Redguard will make a man out of him. But not tonight. This night he had to give her a bit of comfort, do something nice for her. And finally taste a woman’s pussy. He slid off the bed and sat on the floor. Aza laid down across it, with her legs over the edge and her feet resting firmly on the wooden flooring.

“Take it slow, I’m still a bit bruised.” She asked, putting a pillow under her head.

“And you wanted to do me…” he laughed, stroking her inner thighs. She had a scar on her left thigh. One of many that marked her body.

“Shut up, I can take you!”

“Sure you can. Relax.”

Erik slid his tongue alongside the whole slit, from the entrance to the clitoris and the strip of dark hairs. The scent coming from within her was the smell of a human body, but it wasn’t unpleasant. He carefully spread her labials, exposing the tender inner walls. They weren’t puce as he remembered, but blood red, so hurt and delicate. He blew a stream of cold air at her pussy. The little opening shut tighter, still pained and dry. He cautiously spread her lips wider, watching for any signs of discomfort. He thoroughly moistened his tongue and focused on her pale, perky clit. Erik carefully tickled it with the tip of his tongue, allowing his saliva to flow from his mouth onto her vagina.

“Blow some more air at it.” Aza instructed. She was observing him patiently, her hand sunk into his hair.

Erik followed her instruction. She purred pleased, spreading her legs wider. Her breathing became deeper, she exhaled slowly in quiet moans. He closed his lips around her clitoris, slowly sucking it into his mouth and grinding with his tongue. The little pearl was getting harder and bigger as he teased it eagerly. By the Gods, he dreamed of doing this to a woman, and reality was even better than fantasy! He felt her body, its texture and taste. Her smell was in the air, filling his lungs. He felt he was slowly getting an erection, but his cock would have to wait. This wasn’t about him. His finger slowly encircled her opening. He risked and gently pushed his fingertip inside.

“No, damn it, don’t put anything in me!” She hissed in pain. Her hips jerked up in a short spasm.

“Sorry” he apologized, immediately pulling his finger out. He gave her hole a few apologetic licks, angry at himself for his impatience. He then remembered he’d brought her something.

“Huh? Where are you going?” She asked when Erik got up and went to the bundle in the corner.

“I almost forgot I got something for you” he replied, reaching for the impermeable leather sack. “Close your eyes.” He said slyly, sitting back before her pussy. He opened the sack and picked a piece of ice with a regular enough shape. He suckled on her clit, pressing the ice against her entrance.

“Wha…?! Oh!” She moaned loudly. A cold compress was exactly what she needed for her itchy and grazed pussy.

“I figured you’d be drinking while I was away, so I thought I’d bring you an ice patch for the upcoming headache. But I think this is a better use of it.” He said cheerfully, rubbing the cold cube against her hot, swollen flesh.

“My, aren’t you a crafty one… Slide it inside.”

Erik pushed the ice cube into her velvet mouth, then reached for another one. He used it to soothe her hurt asshole, licking her entire slit. His other hand reached up, and squeezed her firm, heavy breast. He felt the nipple harden under his palm. He had to titfuck her sometime soon. And ask her to oil those huge tits beforehand. He pushed the cube into her asshole and reached to the sack for another piece. He had dozens of them, so he could afford to make her wet the bed and floor. And he intended to do so.

Aza moaned in sort intervals. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to be pampered by her boy. He was good at it, shrewd little bugger. She loosened up completely, her leg muscles relaxed, numbly sliding wide apart. She felt the pleasant itching and swelling inside her. The ice inside her pussy and ass cooled her burned insides, melting and leaking out. She felt the edge of the bed under her ass getting wet, as Erik kept pushing little bits of ice inside her, working his tongue and mouth on her opening, clitoris and labials. He pinched her nipples alternately, getting them to stand at full attention. His stubble tickled the shaven parts of her groin, sending shivers up to her abdomen. She was wet, she felt her juices leaking out shamefully along with the water.

“You taste great” Erik whispered, marveling at her now naturally wet pussy. He flattened his tongue and licked the now relaxed opening. The taste was salty-sweet, unlike anything he had in his mouth before. His lips pressed firmly against her entrance as he sucked out more juices mixed with water with a loud slurp. He swallowed a mouthful of her essence with a gulp. “I could do this all day” he confessed. His lips and chin were glossy in the light.

“Mind your manners.” She murmured, not bothering to open her eyes. She was tenderly ruffling his hair, letting him do whatever he pleased. “Slide your pinkie inside.”

“Sure thing” he said happily. He generously moistened his smallest finger and pushed it in. He felt her inner walls tense a bit, then loosen. He pulled out and pushed in again, feeling her close around his finger. She didn’t need the ice anymore, her thighs and ass were wet, candlelight glimmered in the droplets on her skin. Erik got back to her now flushed clitoris, pushing in and pulling his finger out.

“Oh… Damn… Mmm… Bite it. OH!” She cried when Erik closed his teeth around her tender pearl. “Oh, fu… Aah… Look at me” she pleaded. Their gazes met. Her eyes were half-shut, her lower lip was shaking. She was going to cum soon, Erik felt it. Despite the ice, her pussy was hotter, more natural dew oozed out of her, making her legs and bed wet and sticky. The water that melted from the ice dripped onto the floor and his lap.

“You’re such a dirty woman.” He said narrowing his eyes. In return she gnashed her teeth.

“Bite me, Erik! Ah!” She wailed when his teeth sunk into her inner thigh, leaving a small hickey. “Grind your tongue against my clit… Yeah, just like that… Gods damn it… I’m, gonna… I’m… Oh!” Aza cried, as she came. In one second her pussy got even hotter and wetter. Erik felt her clitoris throbbing on his tongue, whilst her vagina squeezed his finger tightly, then relaxed and tensed in short, quick spasms. She squeezed her tits hard, arching her back. With a final cry, she suddenly went completely numb. Her back hit against the mattress, her legs passively hung over the bed, shaking.

Erik kept gently licking her clit, resting his head on her womb. The strip of dark hairs tickled his nose, as he waited for the shaking to pass. When Aza completely calmed down, they both lied on the bed on their backs, staring at the ceiling.

“Was it okay?” He asked.

“You’re a natural.” She praised, still breathing hard. “But don’t get cocky. And speaking of cocks…” She put her hand on his abdominals.

“I’m good, don’t worry about me.” He declined politely. “Maybe in the morning.”

“I got work to do tomorrow.” She reminded.

“Okay. Let’s get some sleep then.”

“Sure. And Erik? Thanks.” She said sincerely.

“Anytime.” He said, as he slowly slipped into sleep. Faintly, he heard the sound of the lute downstairs. The bard was singing an old, but recently popular song.

“What’s so funny?” Aza muttered, hearing him chuckle.

“Nothing, goodnight.” He said, wiping the grin of his face. The song was called ‘The Dragonborn Comes’. “More like Cums!” He thought to himself.

But he still wasn’t sure. And this business could wait until morning. He was too sleepy, and he saw no point in spoiling the pleasant ending to this day. But he couldn’t just pretend nothing had happened. He’ll ask her. Soon.

Chapter Text

“Well, look at you! What lies behind that blissful smile?” The thief asked, tugging a strand of hair behind his ear. Damn it, that jawline of his… And everything else of his… He was too hot for his own good.

“Mind your damn business, pretty boy. What is it you need?” Aza asked, leaning over the pier next to the fishery, trying to stay immune to his charm.

“I need help. And I can’t ask anyone from the Guild.” Brynjolf explained, resting his back against the pier’s railing. “It’s… personal. And before you ask, I’ll come clean. I don’t have much gold. But I never forget a debt. And it’s good to be my friend, lass. Believe me.”

“Give me the details.” The Redguard said indifferently, observing little fish swimming carefree under the water.

Brynjolf sighed heavily, desperation made him even more alluring.

“I was expecting a visitor, she was supposed to arrive here a month ago. She never did. I sent word out, and from what I learned, she was last seen around Dawnstar. Near a place known as Yngvild, to be more precise. That place has a bad name, it’s haunted and serves as a nest for some twisted wizard.” He turned his face to her. Aza noticed dark bags under his clever eyes. “I’m not fooling myself. She’s dead… or worse. If you’d give her peace… I’ll make it worth your while. And while you’re at it, I want you to retrieve any personal belongings she might have been carrying. Then burn them.”

“You don’t want them back?”

“I gave a good memory. And in my line of work I learned not to grow attached to objects.”

“I’ll send you a courier when the job is done.” Aza promised. She never bothered with trinkets either. Memories were all she had.

“Thanks, lass.”

“I hadn’t done anything yet.”

For a moment they stared quietly into the distance. Aza mentally slapped herself across the face. Brynjolf made her regret she wasn’t a ripe lad with a nice, firm ass. He was one of those people who caught all the attention once they entered the room. His charm was his weapon.

“So… I see you got yourself a protégé of your own.” Now that the troublesome problem was off his chest, he could afford to make conversation.

“Brynjolf, if you try anything with my little Erik, I’m going to cut that lovely face of yours. Believe me, it’s going to break my heart, but I’ll make sure no man ever finds you attractive, understood?”

“Loud and clear” he said with a laugh. He was used to threats. “If the two of you would ever want someone to join your little bedroom games… You know where to find me. And I’d give both of you the exact amount of attention.” He promised sweetly.

“Wait… aren’t you into men?” She asked incredulously.

“I’m into people in general. But you know how it is. You admit gender means nothing to you, and suddenly everyone thinks you want to get in their pants. Then, they get cautious around you. I can’t afford that. So, I chose to be perceived as someone who prefers rough manly bonding over the affection of women. Makes things a lot easier.”

“Thanks, Bryn… Now I won’t be able to sleep easily.” She sighed embarrassed. Damn him!

“My pleasure. You’re a bit too… towering for me, but I’m sure you’d show me tricks I never knew about, eh?”

“Kiss my ass.” She hissed, angered by his teasing.

“Present it, then.” He proposed cheerfully.

“I should get going…”

---

Erik was asleep. Big mistake. She reached for the sack he left on the floor. The ice melted overnight. He’s going to wake up wet again.

“I’m awake.” He said without opening his eyes, as she was about to pour water on his head. “Five more minutes and I’m up.” He added, rolling on his stomach.

“You’re getting up now!” Aza ordered, pinching his ass. “Come on, I want you to meet someone.”

“Wha… who?” He mumbled still half-asleep.

“We’ll be waiting for you downstairs. Hurry up.”

---

“Erik, I want you to meet Mjoll the Lioness. She does the same thing we do. Only, she does it for free.”

The woman he was introduced to was an athletic blond Nord. She had an open and straightforward disposition, though her appearance was a bit intimidating. There were a few scars on her face, but the blue war paint she wore made them barely noticeable.

“So, I hear you’re new to this trade?” She said surprisingly warmly. Her voice had a heavy accent.

“Um… yes…”He admitted. He was still an upstart, but the day he left home felt strangely distant.

“While you give him the pep talk, I’ll borrow Aerin to help me with a few errands, okay Mjoll? Great, we’ll be back soon!” Aza pushed Mjoll’s shadow out of the inn, faking a sincere smile.

“Hey what are you?” Aerin tried to protest, but there was no way of opposing that huge woman.

“Oh, relax. I have to buy some stuff, and could use a hand. I’m taking Erik camping, you see.”

The Imperial grunted, but followed her nonetheless. He was properly raised, and it would be rude to refuse help in such a menial task.

“Say, how long has it been since she got her sword back?” Aza asked innocently, browsing a jeweler’s stall.

“Two months or so.” Aerin recalled, wondering why she cared.

“Then why is she still in Riften?”

“Because Riften needs her!” He said with confidence, to which the wretch laughed.

“Bullshit. This city is corrupted beyond her capabilities. She can’t save Riften, because it doesn’t want to be saved. She should move on and be where she’s really needed.” She turned to buy some dried meat and salt. “And yet, she’s still here, doing nothing productive but loitering around town, sleeping in your house and eating you food. Why? Her wounds have healed, she’s got that damned sword back, what’s keeping her?”

“I… she’s not ready yet.” The imperial insisted, clenching his jaw.

“She lost her confidence in that Dwarven ruin.” Aza guessed, handing him her purchase.

“How would you know?” Aerin asked, taking the supplies without protest.

“Come on, she and I are in the same trade. She stopped believing in herself. She might as well sell her sword ang dive up.”

“She’ll manage.” Aerin said, looking away.

“Not without your help, you pussy. Or maybe you like her that way; meek and dependent of you? Maybe you want her to stay so badly, that you don’t care about her well-being?” The wretch teased.

“You bitch!” The man snapped.

“Watch the merchandise” Aza reprimanded with a grin. Insults never bothered her. “Have the guts to admit you don’t want her to leave you.”

“Well, I don’t want her to be miserable either.” He confessed.

“So… go with her? Some air could do you good.”

“Why are you telling me this?” He asked suspiciously.

“Because…” Aza’s cruel face softened a bit, she wasn’t even sure herself why she had this sudden need to be helpful. “The world needs people like Mjoll! True heroes and protectors of the weak. She’s a bit thick-skulled, but I admire her. So… I want to help her.” She confessed.

“Oh…” The Imperial was speechless.

“Yeah. I’m as surprised as you are.” Aza’s smile widened. “And I trust that I don’t have to threaten you to keep your mouth shut about this whole conversation. Right?”

Aerin nodded silently, and they continued gathering equipment for the big outdoor trip.

---

“Camping?” Erik rubbed his chin. With Aza, even such an innocent concept had a treacherous hidden meaning.

“Yeah, I think we should spend some time away from any settlements to harden you up a bit. Remember what I told you about sleeping on the bare ground, eating and sleeping poorly, catching lice and getting food poisoning? We’re going to do all those things, probably even more. And we have to visit a haunted burrow near Dawnstar soon.”

“Great…” Erik sighed, gearing up. His trophy axe was a pleasant burden to carry.

They left Riften via the main gate. They travelled north, though they had no particular destination. Although it was barely noon, the sky had darkened. Heavy rainfall was approaching.

“Why’d you set me up with that Mjoll character?” He asked.

“I figured you should meet someone with a more positive perspective on this whole adventuring thing. Mjoll’s been doing this probably longer than I do, so I wanted you to meet her. She’s okay, maybe too altruistic, but she’s alright.”

“Thanks.” He said sincerely.

“I wouldn’t bother if I didn’t think it would help you learn something.” She said, as the last warm rays of the sun shone on her pauldrons. To Erik’s demise, her new armor was sturdier and less revealing.

“Like when you beat the shit out of me on our way to Falkreath?” He asked with a sour face.

She laughed as first raindrops fell from the sky. The painted lines in the corners of her eyes soon smudged and ran down her face.

“Well, you did learn that being an adult hurts like a bitch, didn’t you?”

“Yeah…” he muttered, unconsciously rubbing his scar. She was feeling better, so he could finally pressure her a bit. “Listen… Yesterday you told me that you had to take up adventuring. Why? Why’d you choose this life?”

“This again? Ugh… I had no choice.” She said indifferently. Damn him and his curiosity.

“Why, what happened?” He kept pressing.

“Life happened.” She replied vaguely.

“That’s no explanation! Come on, suddenly you can’t be frank with me?”

“Erik, it’s not even noon yet and you’re already annoying.” She sighed, sweeping her wet hair back. The rain wasn’t that bad, but they were already soaked.

“Come on, we’re not going to walk in silence.” He insisted.

“Drop it.” She warned.

“No.”

“Your money or your lives!” A fur-scanted highwayman jumped out from behind a tree brandishing a jagged iron sword.

“Erik…” Aza sighed.

“I’m on it.” He said indifferently, dropping the sacks and reaching for his axe.

---

They hiked north, towards Eastmarch. One night they set up camp near the border with Morrowind. It was already dark, two rabbits and a pheasant were almost done, steadily baking over a small campfire. The air was saturated and warm, thanks to the nearby hot springs.

“You’re not going to drop it.” Aza sighed, when she noticed how insistently he was staring at her.

“No.” Erik said, lying down on his bedroll. He rested on his side and kept gawking.

“Fine. Ask your damned questions.” She gave in, sitting down on her own bedroll opposite to him. The small fire was separating them, casting shadows on their faces.

“Who were you before? And why did you leave your past behind?” Erik pestered.

“Gimme that bottle. Thanks.” She took wine they found a day earlier on another lone fool who tried to rob them. “I picked up this trade when I was… How old are you exactly?” She suddenly asked.

“I turned nineteen this spring.” Her partner recalled. Aza didn’t comment, but when she met him he had the mind of a sixteen year old. Thank the Gods he slowly started to act and think his age.

“I was a few years older than you. I was boring, my life was dull. I didn’t feel the call of adventure, or whatever. And I was damned happy about it!” She grunted. “I liked it that way!” She drank, hiding her head between her shoulders. She shivered, though it wasn’t because she took her armor off. “I already told you I’ve spend most of my life among travelling merchants back in Hammerfell. It’s because my parents had a caravan, like many desert Redguards. You could say I grew up on the trading route.” She glanced at him. Erik didn’t move an inch, his eyes were fixed on her face. She hated when he was like that; like an alert animal.

“Go on…” he encouraged patiently.

“It’s not that easy.” She supported her back against a conveniently placed tree trunk. She closed her eyes, warding herself from him with her eyelids. “Ask questions. This might get me on track.”

“Who’s Zia?” He attacked. Aza opened her eyes as if he slapped her. “I heard that name that night in Falkreath. You thought I was a sleep, but I wasn’t. I didn’t want to get punched again, so I pretended I was sound asleep. You said I’m just like…” He suddenly paused when she covered her mouth with her hand.

“Yeah… you’re sometimes just like my Zia, you damned brat. Maybe that’s why I like to play mom to you.” She confessed, resting her clenched fist on her lap. “I used to have a family of my own… She was my daughter.”

Erik forgot to close his mouth. Aza had a kid? That hawkish, cynical woman with a heart filled with debauchery and alcohol was once a normal, dull family woman? What in Oblivion happened to change that?

“I remind you of your daughter?” He asked cautiously.

“Yeah… Those big blue eyes of yours and how innocent and helpless you are…”

“Am not!”

“Really? ‘Ma’am, please!’ Remember?” She did her best impression of his tone when she harassed him the first night she spent in his father’s inn.

“Screw you.” Erik couldn’t help but blush, remembering how her chest pinned him against the wall and her leg was brushing his groin. And how frantic that made him.

“I last saw her when she was three…” Aza sighed sadly, rubbing her blind eye.

“I’m sorry.” He said, attempting to get up.

“No. Stay where you are.” She pleaded. He was surprised she didn’t scold him, or throw something at him. He obeyed. “I loved my kid. She had her father’s lips and my nose. My man… he was a terrible pushover. But he was so incredibly patient and kind. Surprised I was married?” She asked, jerking her lips upward. “When my folks died, I was left with the caravan. I had no idea how to handle logistics, I mostly guarded it. Thankfully, I met my future better half. Our caravans merged, I handled security, and he took care of the rest. We didn’t get along at first, but later…” She looked away, her face softened a bit. “It was good. In time, we decided to take our partnership one step further. It wasn’t like you Nords do, with amulets and a trip to the temple, but our bond was true. Then we had a kid, and everything was perfect.”

“Until…” Erik recalled the conversation they had behind Frostfuit inn. “You fell into an Orc ambush.”

“Yeah. Bastards took out most of our guard, though we managed to kill a few. In the end, there were only three on three. I lured them away, while my man and kid took the last carriage. They got out alive while I stayed. The rest you probably know.”

Erik felt a chill in his gut. He knew.

“Three of them raped and beat me for the entire night. When they had their fun, one strangled me with his bare hands, whilst the remaining two gathered the spoils. I took my sweet time, so he just beat me over the head with a rock and left to die. As you can see, I didn’t. I woke up the next day torn inside. Both literally and figuratively. I could hardly breathe, my throat was so swollen. That rock didn’t kill me, but from that night forward my right eye is of no use.”

“Aza…” He whispered horrified.

“Don’t silence me now.” She raised her palm. Her face was dark, but calm. “You wanted to know, so let me finish. I saw horse tracks heading north, to Sentinel, our destination. The Orcs wandered east, they didn’t bother with pursuit. You have no idea what a relief that was. My family was safe, I was alive. And I was alone in the middle of the desert, barely able to move.” She stirred the embers with a stick. Erik was too shocked to move. “But I was lucky. I was found by another caravan. Weapon shipment for the resistance against the Dominion. They had guards, so my feeble skills were of no use. But they didn’t have a trail harlot.”

“That’s terrible…”

“No, they were okay. Gave me food, water, medicine and shelter in return for anything they’d never ask their women back home. And I delivered, I had no choice. The boys were rowdy, but never hurt me. Well, maybe I got a spanking now and then, but it turned them on, so… I learned quite a lot then. But they were heading the opposite direction, back to Hegathe. When we reached the city, they were nice enough to give me a small leave, enough to wait for another caravan to be heading thorough the desert. This time, I signed up as a guard. I guess they took my fresh scars as a sign of experience. Everything went smoothly, we got to Sentinel undisturbed. I wanted to find my family, but their trail got cold.” She sighed. “I had nothing, save for a sword and old battered armor the boys from the weapon caravan gave me. But I had luck, I guess. One Breton mage needed someone to watch his back while he was travelling incognito through High Rock. He was a hopeless pansy, but paid well. And that’s how my ‘adventuring’ career set off. That was about ten years ago.”

“Did… Did you ever find them?” Erik asked.

Instead of answering, Aza suddenly sprang up. Her neck cracked, as she twisted to look at the sky, to the south. Her eyes widened with fear.

“Put that fire out!” She quickly ordered. She kicked dirt into the campfire, paying no matter to their dinner.

“What’s wrong?!” Erik could feel her tension.

“Just do it!” She hissed. After the flames were put out, she grabbed him by the neck and pulled to the ground. There was a roar from the sky.

“Aza, what’s going on?” He asked, looking up. Something big was approaching.

“Lay flat, and don’t move a muscle!” She commanded, doing the same.

The night was well lit by Nirn’s two moons. A large, dark shape soared through the starry sky. Its massive wings were beating the air, bending the tree tops. It was a dragon. The beast flew over their camp, oblivious of their presence, and headed north, carrying a ground-shaking roar.

“Dragon…” Erik whispered, not believing his own eyes.

“Yeah…” she said, standing up. “Dragon.”

“You sensed it!” He suddenly realized.

“No, I didn’t.” She denied, looking away.

“Don’t make a fool out of me!” Erik got up as well and put his hands on her shoulders. “You sensed that dragon! And you used the Voice to push me off a cliff back at Nilheim! Damn it, I know, okay? I know!”

“What do you know?” She asked slowly, clenching her fists.

“You’re Dragonborn!”

“Bullshit.” She pushed him away. Erik regained balance with little effort.

“Then how are you going to explain this?”

“Explain what, Erik? That when I killed my first dragon I sucked the soul out of it? That I learned a few Shouts, and when I find one of those ancient walls with dragon language written all over them, I hear them whisper to me? Last time I checked, hearing voices wasn’t a good sign.” She feebly sat on the bare ground. She was worn out and not drunk enough.

“But you’ve been chosen by the Gods!” Erik recalled the legends.

“I didn’t ask for it! And if the Divines did choose me to carry out their big plan, well… they sure have a twisted sense of humor.”

“You’re not going to do anything?” He couldn’t believe how reluctant she was.

“What do you expect me to do?” She shouted, for the first time losing her cool around him. “I’m just a drifter, who has enough luck and smarts not to get killed. Fuck the Gods, I have my own problems! Let someone else play savior and hero! I’m out!!”

Aza rushed out of the camp into the darkness, leaving Erik completely confounded. Though, it wasn’t the fact that he was now certain she was Dragonborn. She was once a wife and a mother. A perfectly normal and happy family woman. And that was taken away from her. Not destroyed, but taken away. She was left in the desert, hurt and broken. To survive and keep her sanity, she had to toughen up and become… What she was now. Hard, cynical and guarded. His heart ached, as he felt sympathy wash over him. Life was so unfair, and the bards never sang about the tragedies of ordinary people.

In the morning they packed their things and pushed on north. Erik was certain she was on the verge of getting rid of him, so he did his best not to arouse her anger. He didn’t touch any of the two sensitive subjects. Several weeks had passed. And as the Redguard foretold, they had it rough. They ate badly, Erik caught nasty food poisoning that made him beg her to gut him and make the pain go away. They slept poorly, the lad finally learned to wake up at the faintest sound. They bathed seldom, though luckily they didn’t catch lice.

Time strangely blurred as they roamed Eastmarch. He couldn’t recall how much time had passed when they reached Winterhold. The icy shores and snowy mountains were not meant for the likes of Aza. She caught a nasty cold. Though she was coughing and had a runny nose, she refused to get back to civilization and see a healer. She promised to do so when she spots first signs of pneumonia. Erik, like every Nord, was unaffected by the cold. Although, he was still freezing.

And they fought. There were always beasts on their paths and occasional bandits, but they weren’t a surprise anymore. They came across a troll and an unbloodied vampire, which proved a challenge but in the end fell. The real problem was when they stumbled across a cave infested by Falmer. They barely got out alive. During those few weeks they didn’t touch each other. Erik felt the same compulsion he experienced back home. He spent more time alone, jerking-off and muttering curses. Pleasuring himself wasn’t enough anymore.

Eventually, they reached Yngvild.

---

“Son of a bitch.” She muttered, spitting at the lifeless body of the Necromancer Arondil. The burrow was his private world of madness, death and forbidden pleasures. Aside from his vile experiments, Arondil also kept a harem of undead women. And some of the bodies were fresh. The twisted wizard used the bodies of both draugr and young women to fuel his army of concubines. Some were centuries old, some recently deceased Dawnstar servant girls, some looked like travelers. One particularly caught their attention.

“She looks just like…” Erik whispered, as they approached the now lifeless body of a woman that was Arondil’s personal guard.

“I know. She’s the one we came for.” Aza gently brushed hair from the now truly dead woman’s face. She had bright red hair, sensual lips and green eyes with little golden sparkles. The family resemblance was undeniable, she was Brynjolf’s kin. A sister, distant cousin, daughter maybe? Her body was perfectly preserved by magic. It bore signs of abuse… and use. Sick fuck.

“This… this is really evil.” Erik said gravely, kicking the Necromancer’s corpse.

“It is. Beasts, monsters and bandits are nothing compared to something like this. Something so twisted and… intended.” She said gravely, staring at the red-haired woman.

“Right.” He slowly nodded.

“I’ll loot what there is to take, you pile up the bodies and soak them with oil. We have to burn them.”

Erik followed her instructions. He felt his insides twist, but not because of the bodies he had to carry. He just couldn’t believe something so sick could be true. In the meantime, Aza gathered anything of worth. Soul gems, jewelry, the recently captured and imprisoned women’s personal belongings. One of the knapsacks had a few letters and a locket with a strand of red hair inside. Those must have been hers.

“You… know what’s it like.” Erik stated the obvious, as she returned and threw the knapsack on top of the slowly smoldering pile.

“I do. High Rock, second year of my travels. I heard that some crazy Necromancer was abducting girls from the nearby village, and using them in his experiments. I went to investigate… And ended up as one of his test subjects.”

“Stendarr…”

“It was my fault. I wasn’t cautious enough. That sick motherfucker… He kept me for almost a month, did unimaginable things to me. He drove me near death dozens of times, only to use Restoration and start the whole thing over again. I thought I was going to lose it. But he got careless and I managed to break loose. I killed him, yeah. But not after I made him pay.”

“You sound ashamed.” Erik said, surprised.

“Because I am ashamed, Erik! I should have killed him quickly, just like Arondil. But I made him taste his own medicine.”

“You’re excused.” He assured.

“No, I’m not. I should have just cut his head off and leave that place. But I broke his mind first. I succumbed to my lowest desires, and I’m ashamed of it to this day. Those poor, innocent little things… The youngest was maybe thirteen, the oldest less than seventeen. He reduced them to mindless shells, soiling themselves at the faintest sound and giggling or crying for hours. I put them out of their misery, burned all his tools and notes, then left and never looked back. It took me nearly a year to recover and finally be able to bed someone.” Her gaze blurred, as she visited the darkest corner of her memory.

They waited in silence until the bodies turned to ask. Arondil and his sick journals were burned in a separate pyre. Aza faintly recalled that Vekel over at the Ragged Flagon had a buyer for such unusual literature, but those journals were far too evil to be spared. There was nothing left to be done at Yngvild.

“Aza…” he whispered, just as they were about to leave. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Those were my lessons. I’m alive, free and sane, still in one piece. That’s more than I could hope for.”

“I…” He was about to declare something noble and stupid.

“You won’t let me suffer any more of those things, eh?” She guessed. “If you’d say that a few weeks ago, I’d laugh in your face and then break it. But you know what? Fine, play my protector, if it pleases you. Now come on, we have to get to Dawnstar, this place makes me remember all my nightmares.” She ordered, ending her sentence with a cough.

They gathered their loot and left the forsaken tomb.

---

At Dawnstar they got her to a healer to take care of her cough and booked a room at the inn. Camping was finally over. They ate, paying no mind that the other guests sat as far from them as possible. Weeks without bathing paid their toll. They got a bath after they ate, and Aza was able to get a hold of a courier passing through.

“B. It’s done. A.” She wrote on a piece of parchment and ordered it be delivered to Riften. But just as the courier was about to leave, she halted him.

“Was there something else?” The man asked, obviously in a hurry.

“Any chance you’ll be passing through Rorikstead, love?” She asked.

“Just Whiterun, but if you have a delivery to Rorikstead I can pass it to some other courier heading that way.”

“Great! Wait one more minute.” She took another sheet and quickly scribbled a letter to Mralki.

“Hey, innkeep! Probably worrying your balding head off, eh? Erik’s okay. I make sure he’s eating properly and that his nose is clean. Just kidding, he’s doing good. I never thought an axe could be used so creatively. He’s healthy and still in one piece. A few scratches here and there, but what did you expect? He’s slowly growing to be a man. Virginity still intact, if you were wondering. I want it to be special. Much love! - Aza… Here, make sure it reaches the innkeeper at Frostfruit Inn.”

“Sure thing ma’am.” The courier took the letters and the gold. A second later he was gone.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” She asked, sitting next to Erik at the bar.

“It does.” He agreed. After those few weeks in the wild, he was overjoyed by the perspective of a hot meal, a bath, a real bed and a good drink. He was happy to be sitting at this inn, clean and shaved, with his belly full, surrounded by other people and feeling the warmth of the hearth. Life was good. “What’s our next step?” He asked, passing her the ale.

“Do we need a plan? Let things play out on their own.” She waved her hand. She was pleased that he didn’t bother her anymore about her past or her ‘blessing’.

“Hey…” He cautiously made conversation. “Sorry, okay? Sorry about being so nosy. I just really wanted to know.”

“And now you do. Just don’t ask any more questions.” She refuted.

“Sure.” He agreed reluctantly. She was so stubborn about ignoring her situation. “Listen, while I was waiting for you, I heard some rumors. There’s a museum open, the guy running it needs some artifacts retrieved. Interested?”

“Sure, why not.” She agreed, pleased to see him show some initiative. “Miss home yet?”

“Sure I do. Well, not farming and cleaning rooms, I hope I’ll never have to hold a broom or rake again. But I miss my pa. Do you…?” He bit his tongue. He wasn’t supposed to ask. But instead of getting angry, Aza put her hand over his.

“Always. I’m not a heartless monster, you idiot.” She puffed offended. “Ah, but enough about me! What will you do once you grow tired of me?”

“I thought this is a commitment.” Erik joked. “But I was thinking about going to Hammerfell once I made enough money.”

“You’ll die of a heatstroke within three days.”

“Thanks…” He drank his mead giving her a nasty look. During those few weeks his features lost some of their softness, but he was still so wonderfully boyish.

A young Imperial woman appeared next to them and ordered a large jug of mead. Aza crinkled her nose, there was something strangely familiar about her. She was wearing a skimpy green dress so typical for tavern wenches and expensive beige boots with gilded buckles. Her dark hair was loose, which was unusual for an Imperial, as it usually meant the woman in question had little moral backbone. She seemed familiar. Aza tried to put a name on that face. The woman noticed her and quickly looked away, obviously recognizing the Redguard. So, they were somehow acquainted. The woman took the jug and disappeared in one of the back alcoves.

“You know her?” Erik inquired. He could have sworn that green dress barely covered her nipples.

“I think so… Ria!” Aza suddenly remembered. But why was the youngest Companion here, without her armor and war paint, dressed like a slut? Something was suspiciously dirty here. “Come on, let’s go say hi.” She pulled her partner to the curtain separating the alcove.

“What took you so long, bitch?” They heard a harsh voice scold.

“I’m sorry, Master.” The Imperial’s voice was timid. “There were… other people.”

“Vilkas! Ria!” Aza called, pushing the curtain aside and bluntly entering. Erik followed.

The man was a dark-haired Nord with a blatantly displeased look on his stern face. Dark war paint around his icy-gray eyes made his face even more intimidating. He was wearing armor assigned to the Companions fighters guild. The woman known as Ria was sitting on his lap.

“Get the…!” He raised his voice.

“No chance in Oblivion!” Aza cut him off, sitting next to him. Erik sat down as well. This was going to be interesting. “Whatcha guys doing so far away from Jorrvaskir?”

“We…” Ria was about to say something, but she noticed the sharp look in Vilkas’ eyes. She stared at her lap, it was obvious how uncomfortable she was in this outfit and situation.

“Get to the room and wait for me.” He ordered, pinching her side. Ria gasped and quickly left the alcove.

“She doesn’t speak unless spoken to?” Aza guessed. So… they were into that kind of stuff.

“No, she doesn’t. Should I teach you some obedience as well?” He proposed.

“Watch it” Erik grunted, getting up. He wasn’t sure, but for a moment he saw a strange yellow glow in the warrior’s cruel eyes.

“Erik, sit down. Bandits are one thing, but you have no chance against a trained warrior.” Aza warned, putting her hand on her partner’s shoulder, forcing him to sit. Although Erik had potential and talent, but he had no chances against a Circle member. And a damned werewolf. “Vilkas, wipe that look off your face. Erik’s more than meets the eye.” She added.

“I’m sure he does it.” The warrior laid back. “What is it you want?” He sighed annoyed. Though unpleasant, his voice bore characteristics of an intelligent man.

“Nothing. I thought I’d say hi. So, you’re in that sort of relationship?” She winked.

“There is no relationship.” The Companion rebuffed.

He knew Ria was a pushover ever since she joined. At first he paid her no mind, occasionally venting his frustrations on the rookie. But after Kodlak, his brother and he agreed to contain their bestial selves, Aela and Skjor, who were more than happy to be werewolves, became distant. And that meant one thing; no more fucking the red-haired Huntress. She slept with the Harbinger and other Circle members out of her own initiative to ‘keep morale up’, but after the small disagreement they had over the beastblood, she refused to bed them anymore, saying she had no time for whiny milk-drinkers. Kodlak wasn’t bothered at all, due to his age and health. Farkas didn’t complain, just spent more time alone. As for Vilkas… he was growing frustrated. He liked it rough, and to be truly satisfied in bed he had to either sleep with another lycan, or someone who enjoyed pain and abuse. And that was when he noticed how Ria’s eyes were glimmering and how hard she bit her lower lip when he scolded her.

He took her along on a small job and made her his bitch. Damn, he was so turned on by the perspective of making her submit, that he jumped her in the middle of the woods. She screamed and cried, but she didn’t fight back, even when he gave her several opportunities to. She wanted it, the dirty Cyrodiil whore. When he got off her with his back scratched and his balls finally emptied, he could at last think clear. She was bruised and pained, but the tears on her face were tears of joy. He became her Master, she became his Slave. He finally had an amiable fuck toy, she was happy to be his bitch. Perfect harmony.

“Just sex, violence and mind control?” Aza suggested with a wide smile.

“I’m old fashioned like that.” Vilkas gnashed his teeth. Erik noticed how large his incisors were. “I see you got a boy toy of your own?”

“I’m not anyone’s toy!” Erik protested.

“He’s my partner.” Aza explained calmly. “He watches my back and I watch his.”

“I see…” Vilkas eyed Erik. The look in his eyes was clearly unimpressed.

“Damn, you know I never suspected you’re into pinch and squeal.” Aza said with an impressed whistle. “Think you could handle me?”

“Are you challenging me? We can always test each other’s mettle in bed.”

“Only if you promise to bring your brother along.” Aza conditioned with a sweet smile.

“Oblivion take you!” Vilkas snarled. “Why is it that you women always want Farkas? What does he have that I don’t?!”

“He’s a good guy and you’re a scumbag.” She revealed innocently.

“Well, this is nice, but I have a slut to break.” Vilkas got up. “Goodnight to you both. I know mine is going to be good.” With that, he left.

“Aza, shouldn’t we do something?” Erik asked concerned , grabbing her by the wrist.

“Hm? Like what? And why?” She asked, drinking the mead the two Companions forgot.

“That guy is abusing that girl!” Erik cried out.

“Yeah, I noticed.” She said calmly.

“And you’re going to sit here while he rapes her?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Who said anything about raping?!” Aza was surprised. “No one is raping anyone here!”

“But, you saw how he treated her.”

“Yeah. Oh, right…” she suddenly realized he was unaware, “you have no idea what’s going on. Listen, it’s okay, it’s an arrangement between those two, and we have no business butting in.”

“Arrangement?”

“Yeah, he likes to hurt someone, and she enjoys being hurt. So they clicked together.”

“You mean that woman is happy when that bastard mistreats her?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Yes, some people like that. Calm down, I know them. Vilkas is an asshole, but he’s not a monster. He wouldn’t be doing this without her consent, trust me.” The Redguard assured. “Though it’s sweet to see you’re still so innocent.”

“Bite me.” He puffed. “Is his brother better looking?” He inquired.

“They’re twins. You should see the two of them in action, what a sight.” Aza’s thoughts drifted away. “What wouldn’t I give to have them both do me at the same tine…” She sighed. She found the idea of being screwed of a pair of twins, regardless of gender, mind and cunt-numbing.

“I’m sitting right here!” Erik shouted offended.

“Jealous?”

“No! You can sleep with whoever you damned please!” He lied. He was jealous.

Aza punched his arm with a chuckle. Erik grabbed her waist and pulled closer. She didn’t push him away. Gods, how he missed her tongue grinding against his!

“Mmm…” She purred pleased. She missed his mouth as well. “Want me to give you some advice?”

“Sure.” He murmured, inhaling the scent of her hair.

“Be good to women you’ll fuck. If you’re nice to them, they’ll let you do all sorts of crazy things they’d never agree to otherwise. Anal, ass-to-mouth, swallowing your cum, you name it.”

“Noted.”

---

Ria was patiently waiting for her Master. Just as instructed, she was sitting on the bed, wearing only her boots. Vilkas entered. He was pleased she was so obedient. Stupid, but obedient. He resented tops that employed too much violence to make their bottoms submit. He was proud that his sheer will and an occasional slap or light binding were enough to control Ria and make her do, or be done to, anything he damned pleased. He ignored her and sat on a chair. Still silent, he grinded his teeth. Damned Aela and Aza! Bitches! He should be angry at his brother as well, but he couldn’t. Farkas was probably oblivious of his frustration. He’d never understand, he was always so damned nice.

“Master…” His Slave’s shy voice ended his unhappy thoughts.

“Shut up, slut.” He ordered, getting up. He was angry. Ria shivered with anticipation mixed with fear. Vilkas grabbed her by the chin and pulled her head up. Their eyes met. “Safety word for tonight is ‘Wuuthrad.’” He said indifferently.

“Yes, Master.” She whispered obediently. He spat in her mouth, the Slave swallowed his saliva with delight.

“What do you say, bitch?”

“Thank you, Master.” Ria thanked, feeling her abdomen slowly heating up. She’s going to get it rough tonight, she could feel it. Rage was radiating from his every pore.

“Show me your assets.” He ordered, sitting back in the chair.

Ria presented herself to him as best as she could. First, she squeezed her tits. Though they weren’t big, the areolas of her nipples were unexpectedly large and light. She shamefully spread her legs, revealing her small, tight pussy. As he ordered, it was bare and smooth, revealing her pale pink lips. Her hands reached between her thighs and carefully spread her labials open. The sight she exposed was pure and pristine, not many men had the opportunity to stretch and use her. Her clit was trembling, slowly getting hard and big from the excitement. What did he have in store for her tonight? He didn’t move a muscle, assessing her with those cold grayish-blue eyes. He was angry, but seemed uninterested. Vilkas giving her the cold shoulder was the one thing she couldn’t bear. He could slap her, pull her hair and fuck her without foreplay, but he truly hurt her by simply ignoring her.

“Master, am I no good?” She asked, on the verge of crying.

“You’re pathetic. Buy you’ll do. Hands behind your back, don’t you dare use them.” He grunted, getting up. Gazing into her wide, helpless amber eyes, he stripped out of his armor. Painfully slow, he laid it on the chair and approached her. Without warning, he grabbed her by the hair and forced her head to meet with his slowly hardening member. Her jaws were painfully opened, his cock shoved all the way down to her tonsils. Vilkas smiled almost innocently, as he stuffed her mouth, muffling her whimpers. Her hands were behind her back, just as he told her. He didn’t need rope or cuffs; her body and his will were enough to bind her powerless.

His cock was getting harder and thicker, she felt veins emerge on the shaft, teasing her tongue and palate. She could barely breathe, drooling intensely. Her Master was keeping her head firmly in place, painfully pulling her hair. His whole shaft was coated in her slippery saliva, which dripped from her chin down onto her chest and lap. Finally, he released her. Ria pulled herself away from his member and coughed, spitting and crying a bit.

“On your back, you deserved a bit of foreplay yourself.”

“Thank you, Ma…” He slapped her, the Imperial fell flat on her back, though her hands were still behind her back.

“Bitch, if I’d want you to talk so much, I’d tell you. Do you understand?” He hissed, laying beside her.

She nodded. He slid his hand between her legs. His hands were large, with rough skin and thick fingers. He roughly pushed two inside, ripping a high-pitched squeal from her throat.

“You’re already wet, you weak-willed wretch. You like it, don’t you? Don’t nod!” He scoffed, his other hand pinched her nipple painfully hard.

“Yes, yes! I love it when you give it to me rough, Master!” She cried out, feeling her face flushing red and pussy loosening up. Still, the friction was painfully overwhelming, she wasn’t ready for penetration yet.

She was so malleable, almost disgustingly eager to please him. He could go to extremes with her and she probably wouldn’t protest. He could harm her mind and body in any way he’d like. But being a dom wasn’t power without responsibility. She trusted him enough to give him full-control over the situation. He had to be careful not to overdo it. At least at this point.

“Grab the headboard.” he whispered into her ear. “And cling to it the entire time I use you.” He added, kneeling before her quivering legs. Foreplay was over.

His shaft had a natural curve and the sides of his glans were jutting, so that every thrust could be felt with incredible intensity. She was wet, but not relaxed enough. Perfect. Without warning, he rammed his dick into her small pussy. Though it was painful for her, for him it was pure ecstasy. Ria screamed, as her vagina was brutally spread, she felt heat as her inner walls were roughly grazed by the veiny shaft.

“Y… you’re tearing me apart!” She cried. Her Master, grabbed her by the throat and bent forward, his face was directly above hers.

“And you love it, slut.” He murmured, feeling her hips jerk upward so that he could thrust his member even deeper. With an amused laugh, he squeezed her throat tighter, shoving his tongue into her mouth. She coughed, but would never dare to push him off. She loved to feel his large, rough, almost bestial tongue. Though she needed air, she indulged in this brief moment as Vilkas rarely kissed her. After a moment long enough to make her dizzy, he let her throat go. The Imperial fought for air, heaving her chest. He pulled out, conjuring another cry from his Slave but this time it was a cry of protest. Though her pussy was small, she was addicted to that man’s cock. And the man himself.

“Tell me, Slave…” He asked, as his glans slid from her vulva to her asshole, his entire cock generously coated with her slippery juices. “Do you think your ass deserves some attention too?”

“I’d love that, Master. Just, please…” she wanted him to go easy on her, not like he did last time. Though, last time he didn’t bother with any foreplay at all, just bent her over a bench and impaled on his huge cock.

“Shut up” he said almost lovingly, as his cock was shoved into her backdoor in one powerful thrust. “Don’t even think about screaming” he added. “If anyone hears you, you can forget about our little games. Now, be a good girl and relax. Your Master is going to cum in your gut tonight.”

Ria’s hands squeezed so hard on the wood, that her knuckles got white. She felt as if her ass was burning, with his dick tearing through it. Her pussy gave away how much she loved it, as more and more juices leaked from within. Without a word, Vilkas stuffed her tiny hole with his fingers, amused to see her fight for some dignity. She had non to be spared around him. She gave in, moaning and crying, fidgeting like a wounded animal.

“Talk to me, bitch. How much do you like it?” He asked. He was sweating, his war paint smudged, his predatory eyes were burning.

“I love it, Master!” She said truthfully. Though abused and humiliated, her eyes were glimmering with pleasure. “I…” she bit her lip just the way he loved it. “I love it how your huge Nord cock pounds my pathetic Imperial ass. I deserve it.” She confessed with tears rolling down her cheeks.

“That you do.” Vilkas agreed, mercilessly abusing her holes.

He kept thrusting in the same rhythm; slow but painfully deep interchangeable thrusts with his cock and hand. Gods, she was tight, he could almost hear how painfully her holes stretched. He doubted anyone ever gave it to her this rough and good. She was going to come soon, she could never hide it. He picked up the pace, feeling that he was going to ejaculate soon, as his spine tingled and his loins burned.

“Here’s to you, Slave.” He grunted, as he felt he couldn’t hold back any longer.

His thick and rich cum, the seed of a full-blooded Nord warrior and Moon-Born, shot into her rectum, the pressure was so great that some squirted outside. Ria took a loud breath, as this sudden sensation made her come as well. Her pussy tightly enveloped his fingers, as she felt her body and mind melt in his grasp. She released the headrest, her body was completely numb. Vilkas pulled out, more cum flew from her ass with a loud embarrassing sound, but she was too worn out to notice. He unexpectedly pulled her by the arm to once again meet with his member.

“Clean me up.” He ordered.

“No, please! I had it in my asshole!” She protested.

“Suck your Master’s cock clean, Slave!” He ordered, slapping her again, this time displeased he had to do it.

Whimpering, she obediently licked her Master’s penis clean and swallowed the remaining cum that got under his foreskin. She wiped the tears from her face and fell on the mattress. She was relieved of tension, but shame slowly crept into her mind.

He exhaled with relief. Thankfully, he didn’t have to fight his bestial side tonight. He knew that one night he could go overboard and break her neck or tear her into pieces. But somehow, he knew that these little sessions helped him keep the beast at bay. He lied behind her, Ria was sobbing and trembling. He wrapped his arms around her, biting into her neck. Hard enough to show who was in charge, but not enough to damage the skin.

“You did good.” He praised briefly. “Get some rest. Tomorrow we have a citizen to rescue from a bandit gang.”

“Yes, Ma…” The Imperial realized that tonight’s game was over. “Yes, Brother.”

---

Unfortunately for Erik and Aza, the two Companions’ room shared a wall with theirs, and it seemed that their beds were exactly at both sides of that wall. They could hear everything.

“Gods, some people get off on strange things!” Erik whistled, half-shocked and half-intrigued.

“Believe me, this is actually quite tame compared to some things people do behind closed doors. But don’t you worry…” Aza smiled, pulling her old nightshirt over her head. “Our first time will be sweet, regular and boring.”

“Really?” He asked, raising his brow. Something else also rose a bit.

“Yeah, really.” She bent forward, her rack bulged underneath the fabric. “I’m going to lie on my back and scratch yours whilst you do me, okay?”

“Okay.” He agreed with a dumbfounded smile.

“Tonight?” She suggested, tilting her head.

“I…” For a second he was on the verge of pulling her onto the bed and finally doing it.

“No, please! I had it in my asshole!” They heard a desperate cry from behind the wall.

“Suck your Master’s cock clean, Slave!”

“Goodnight.” Erik said, as the mood was definitely ruined.

“Goodnight.” Aza sighed, blowing the candles out.

Chapter Text

They didn’t assist the Dawnstar custodian with his project. The whole thing reeked of Daedra involvement, and Mehrunes Dagon was far too evil and deceitful to be evoked. They left Dawnstar, heading towards Morthal. Surprisingly, the capital of Hjaalmarch was never visited by the Redguard adventurer.

“Creepy swamps, mosquitoes, mist and mudcrabs.” She muttered, shrugging. “Great place to get beaten over the head and dragged away by something… creepy.”

“Like what?” Erik asked, calmly surveying the marsh. He finally learned to be alert but not jumpy.

“Werebears, werewolves, vampires…” She enumerated. She never saw a werebear, they were just a legend… probably. And the only werewolves she met were thankfully not feral. She also thanked her good fortune that she never came across a full-blood vampire.

“You think we’ll stumble upon of those creatures?” Erik asked with an involuntary shrug.

“In the daylight? No. Now, when it’s getting dark? Like Oblivion I do!” She confessed embarrassed. “Let’s pick up the pace. I hope they got something to do around here.”

Morthal was the ugliest and most unwelcoming settlement in all of Skyrim. However, underneath a repulsive layer there lied a dark secret. It all started when they inquired about the burnt-down ruins of a family house. In time, they uncovered a scheme woven by an ancient vampire to enslave all of Morthal. The Jarl was mortified, and offered a handsome reward in exchange for dealing with the bloodsucker. This was risky, but they took the job nonetheless.

---

“This is it.” Erik stated the obvious, gazing into the dark cavern that lead to the lair of Movarth, the Master Vampire.

“Yeah.” Aza cracked her knuckles. There were other residents or Morthal with them, but they were of no use aside from two people; Benor and Thonnir, a pair of relatively able men.

“What’s the plan?” Erik, pulled out his axe. The metallic-green orichalcum shone in the dim light. It was noon, but it seemed that the sun never fully shone over Morthal and the surrounding marshes. The air was cold and damp, making everyone and everything feel clammy.

“It’s the middle of the day, they should be asleep. We go in there and do this the old fashioned way; torches and steel. You people” she addressed the angry mob, “should get back to your homes. Prepare healing and cure disease potions, just in case. If we won’t return by sunset, board up in your houses and wait for dawn. Then… tell the Jarl’s wizard to collapse the entrance. Come on, let’s go.” She turned towards the entrance. Her cheeks were ashen.

---

The vampires were mostly fledglings accompanied by thralls. They bled and screamed when dismembered and stabbed just like regular mortals. Movarth himself proved to be a real challenge. The four of them cornered the vampire, each taking a portion of damage, whilst the others attacked. It was surprisingly Thonnir who landed the final hit that killed Movarth. Rage that fueled his heart was more than enough to take down five Vampire Lords.

“Anyone got bit?” Aza asked, sheathing her weapon. The stench of vampire dust and burning flesh was too intense to bare, their eyes got wet and red, the main chamber was barely visible through the smoke.

“I’m fine.” Benor said, shaking off dust from his shoulders.

“Same here.” Thonnir sheathed his iron sword. His Laelette was finally avenged.

“Erik?” She turned over to her partner. He was missing. “Shit, Erik!” She screamed, suddenly noticing a shadow in the nearby corridor. Alva was still out there.

---

How could he want to harm this sweet creature? Alva wasn’t dangerous, no. In fact, she was the one who needed protection. She beckoned him from the shadows whilst… the people he was with were busy… He heard her voice in his head. So sweet and innocent, and yet sultry.

“You’d never harm me, would you?” She asked, putting her palms on his chest.

“Never!” He swore, his eyes were matte, gazing somewhere beyond his mind. Their color changed from clear like a mountain stream into dark and muddy like the marshes of Hjaalmarch.

“You’ll protect me from all those terrible people?” She inquired further, pressing her body to his. He didn’t notice how cold she was.

“Yes.” He whispered mindlessly, slipping away.

“Good…” Alva purred pleased, slipping her hand under his armor’s skirt. Her sharp nails tore his loincloth, freeing his penis. She grabbed it painfully hard, smiling victoriously. As she felt it erect and thicken, the look on her face became surprised, then shocked. This was… a true treasure. All hers now! Too bad that as a thrall his blood pressure will not suffice to power such a magnificent dick. She could find some uses for it.

She licked the side of his neck, feeling a long, wide irregularity; his scar. She gnashed her little sharp fangs and pressed them against his skin, jerking him off with her cold, stiff hand. She’s going to make him bleed and cum for her, before serving as a distraction for those fools who dared come after her and Master Movarth.

“GET OFF HIM BITCH!” A fist in a steel gauntlet appeared out of nowhere and punched her straight in the face, breaking a few teeth and smashing her lips.

“No!” Erik yelled, as Alva staggered back, followed by Aza. He tried to pry the Redguard wretch off his beloved, but an elbow to the gut knocked him off his feet.

“Benor! Thonnir! Restrain that idiot!” The Hammerfell bitch ordered, mauling Alva’s beautiful face. “Bitch, cunt, slut, whore! He’s mine, you hear me? MINE!” She shouted, reducing the vampire’s face into a bloody mask. Alva tried to fight back, but Aza was like an enraged bear sow. The undead’s sharp nails barely scratched her arms and face, mostly grinding against the steel of her armor.

“Get off her! Get off her you damned bitch! Alva! Let me go you bastards!” Erik cried, trying to break loose from the two men’s tight grip. He had to save Alva!

The vampiress wailed, hissed and screamed in a way no man or Mer could. Aza was in a frenzy, her white teeth were clenched, her dark green eye burned, veins emerged on her forehead and neck. The muscles of her shoulders and arms thickened, as she landed hits on the undead seductress. But those weren’t enough. With a kick of her cuffed boot, she made Alva roll on all fours. The vampire tried to crawl away, but the Redguard mounted her like a jibber mare and with a sharp pull by the hair made her expose her neck. She pulled her sword out and ran the whole length of the Skyforge blade against her throat, severing her head from her shoulders. Streams of thick, almost black and incredibly foul smelling blood gushed from Alva’s body. Aza got up, and threw the head to the ground only to crack it open with a hard stomp of her heavy boot. Dust spilled from the skull, the body turned to dust as well. Alva was no more.

“Damn…” Benor whispered. Now that was a fearsome woman.

Aza walked up to the three men. She was sweaty and earned a new scar on her arm and next to her right temple. Erik was flaccid, his arms were tightly held by both men, keeping him from falling onto his knees. Abruptly, she tilted his head upward with a pat and slapped him on both cheeks.

“What in…” Erik’s eyes were once again clear blue. “What…?”

“Let him go.” Aza ordered. Benor and Thonnir stepped aside. “Leave us.” She added.

“Aza…” Erik shuttered as they were left alone. She pulled him closer and embraced painfully tight.

“No more fucking vampires, do you hear me?” She groaned, with her face pressed tightly against his neck, where a moment ago Alva’s fangs almost bit into.

“No. No more.” He agreed, still feeble and confused. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t me.” He grasped her hair with one hand and pressed her back closer with the other. He loathed himself for being so weak.

“It’s not your fault. Few can resist.” She comforted him. Suddenly, she felt his cock, still erect, jabbing her groin. “Erik… seriously?” She asked, releasing him and taking a step back. That cunt!

“She attacked me, I swear! She grabbed my dick and mesmerized me! I was helpless!” He tried to explain himself.

“You got a handjob from an undead slut. Gross!” Aza faked vomiting.

“I’m sorry! Really, I didn’t want you to feel…!”

“Calm down.” She patted him on the shoulder before he said something stupid. “She mesmerized you. And it’s not like we swore fealty to each other.” She was about to search the small chamber for valuables, but he held her by the wrist.

“What do we have, then?” He asked.

“Partnership. I trust you, you trust me. Don’t rush it.” She laid him off. She should see that one coming. He grew attached more than he should. She left Erik to his embarrassment. It was good his mind was clouded with Alva’s spell when Aza shouted in a fit of rage and… jealousy? Bullshit!

---

The spoils Movarth gathered over the decades were impressive. Perhaps they weren’t legendary artifacts, yet he had gold, jewels, fine weapons and apparel.

“We could live like kings from the money made off these!” Erik exclaimed, marveling at the piles of treasure.

“Erik…” Aza pinched his arm. She noticed the sharp, grave looks Benor and Thonnir gave them. Greed, not gratitude was in their eyes. She had to think fast. “Well, I think this is more than enough to repay the good people of Morthal for their suffering, right boys?” She suggested with a wink.

“I’m sure the Jarl will compensate you for your trouble.” Thonnir assured, eying the piles of goods. This was bad, word will soon get out and every resident of Morthal will want to get their cut. They had to get out of town fast.

“We’ll get back with the good news.” Aza excused Erik and herself, sharply pulling him towards the exit.

“Aza, what are you doing? We earned those!”

“The moment you’d put your hand on any of that stuff, you’d have a blade in your gut. Didn’t you see the way they were looking at us? We best get to the Jarl as soon as possible, get paid and get out of Morthal before those people tear their throats out for some gold and gems. Trust me, our lives are worth more.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He agreed with a pained sigh. On top of the pile he saw beautifully crafted elven armor. His size, no doubt. But life was life.

---

Jarl Ravencrone claimed to be a seer. And that was no boasting. She gravely greeted the two adventurers returning from Movarth’s Lair.

“I am thankful that you freed Morthal from the vampire threat. But I fear, that now we must face the darkness that lurks in our own hearts. My steward will provide you with potions to cure any diseases the undead might be carrying and your pay. Now, I must ask that you leave Morthal at once.”

“Of course, my Jarl.” Aza said humbly. Facing an angry mob was the last thing she wanted. Erik shared her point of view. They collected their reward and fled the unwelcoming town, hoping to never have to roam the putrid marshes of Hjaalmarch again.

“Bastards” he grunted as they hiked east, towards the Pale.

“You can’t expect them to be always thankful.” Aza preached.

“I learned that by now.” He sighed. He wasn’t so naive anymore.

“Hey!” She put her arm on his pauldron. “You’re not going to turn into a bitter asshole now, are you?”

“Of course not!” He assured, the familiar cheer brightened his face up. “I won’t let one unpleasant experience darken my spirit.”

“That’s my boy!”

---

The Pale led through snowy pine forests and rocky hills. They roamed the land, explored ancient tombs, beast dens and even cleared an old abandoned fort. They decided to visit Windhelm, the first human city in recorded history. There was bound to be something to do there. On their way they took a longer stay at Nightgate Inn near Lake Yorgrim. Their funds were modest, most of their wealth consisted of a few pieces of weaponry and armor they hoped to sell for a fair price. Thankfully, business was slow, and the inn had reasonable prices. After getting food, a strong drink and some rest, Erik inquired about any special services the house might be offering. He was overjoyed when he learned that they could enjoy a traditional Nord sauna. He paid for the service himself, promising Aza she never experienced anything like it before. Intrigued, she accepted the offer.

---

“Why did no one tell me about this sooner?” She asked amazed, sweating intensely in the small wooden room. The air was stuffy and hot from the steam. Both of them lazed on the wooden bench, sweating out foul fluids.

“I knew you’d like it.” Erik smirked, pouring more water over the hot coals. More steam filled the room.

She undid the linen towel she had humbly wrapped around her and laid on it flat in all her naked glory. Erik observed the familiar curves and lines of her body. He wanted it. Not because she was a woman, moreover a Redguard woman. Because she was, well, her.

“Oh, it feels like I’m melting…”

“Lay on your belly” he proposed, reaching for the birch branches the innkeep provided.

“What are those for?” She asked incredulously, raising her brow.

“To stimulate blood flow. Come on, I won’t hit hard.” He tempted.

Aza got down on the floor just as he instructed, her chin rested on her hands. Erik tossed his towel away, sitting at her side. The branches swished in the stuffy air, hitting her between the shoulders.

“Ow! You sure this is necessary?” She hissed. Erik whipped the small of her back and her ass, leaving small flushed marks on her dark skin.

“It’s good for you, trust me.” He assured patiently. He lashed her some more, pleased to see her squirm, but enjoy herself.

“I can’t wait ‘till I get my hands on you!” She said, biting her lip. Her whole back stung, though it was strangely pleasant.

“Is that a threat?” Erik asked, whipping her ass with more confidence. “Are we going to just roam the land with no fixed destination?” He suddenly asked. Adventuring wasn’t quite what he expected, but he was happy. However, he couldn’t help but feel lack of any drive. A cause.

“And what do you expect?” She sighed, looking over her shoulder. This was such a nice afternoon. Why’d he have to ruin it with his nagging? “You wanted adventure, you have adventure. Shouldn’t you be satisfied?”

“I am. I think. But I have no idea where we’re heading with all this.” He expressed his doubts. He quickly realized how ambiguous his words were. Did he mean the whole adventuring thing, or whatever there was between them? He had to change the subject fast. “Because you’re… well, special. Chosen.”

“Really? Wow, my ma would be so proud!” She mocked, rolling on her back. “I already told you. I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want this. I’m not special and I’m not exactly what you would expect from a legendary hero. Period.”

“The Divines chose you” he reminded. “But don’t worry, I won’t push. I’ll let fate bite you in the ass.” He added quickly, seeing her expression.

“Fate!” She laughed. “You believe in fate?”

“Well…” He took a moment to consider. “I don’t believe destiny controls every aspect of our lives. But I think that some people’s affairs aren’t entirely free from the Gods’ influence.”

“That… makes some twisted sense. But I’ll believe it once it happens.” She brushed his speculations off. He brushed the branches against her tits, making her nipples stand at attention.

“Can I get a boobjob?” He asked all of a sudden. He wanted to feel her heavy, firm and yet soft breasts massaging his cock.

“Aren’t you getting a bit spoiled here?” She teased, sitting up. Her shapely ass rested on the soles of her feet.

“Please?” He pleaded, tossing the branches aside. He reached to pinch her nipples. She thrust her chest towards his eager hands. She felt her spine tingle as he played with her rack. She felt growing excitement, but not because someone touched her. Because Erik touched her. That wasn’t a good sign. But she didn’t want to bother with it now.

“Sit on the bench and relax.” She instructed. Her partner almost tripped over his own feet, he was so eager. She crawled between his legs and stroked his inner thighs. His impressive dick twitched as it was steadily hardening.

“What’s so funny?” He asked cautiously, when she giggled like a young girl, not a woman in her early thirties.

“Your balls are like an old man’s!” She said, as she stroked his shaft and teased his testicles. His sack was loose and saggy from the heat and humidity. He said nothing, but pinched her harder. “Ow, okay, okay! Less talking, more service.” She pouted. Her lips were wonderfully full and soft when she made that expression.

Those lips closed on the head of his member, her tongue encircled the sleek glans. The warm spheres of her breasts pressed at both sides of his shaft. Rhythmically, she moved up and down, her sweaty tits squeezing his rod and her mouth playing with the head. He missed her wet, welcoming mouth. He felt even hotter, sweat was pouring down his back. He was still tugging and pinching her nipples, observing how she worked his cock with a playful look on her face. He missed her touch, it wouldn’t take long.

Aza felt he was going to come soon, he couldn’t hide it from her. His head tilted back, exposing his throat, his chest heaved, his breathing became loud and irregular. She squeezed his cock harder, impatiently waiting for him to climax. She wanted to see the look on his face and hear him grunt in pleasure.

“Almost… there!” He warned with eyes closed.

Cum shot from between her breasts, marking her neckline and chin with cloudy, hot sperm. He kept ejaculating, his thighs squeezed her ribcage and shoulders, as his muscles tensed. He was holding back for far too long; she was soaked with his semen, which lazily dripped down her face and neck, streaming to her cleavage still stuffed with his dick. It was too much for even her large breasts to contain, his jizz dripped from their sides and under the line between them. Her belly and lap were stained as well, she was generously showered by his young cum.

“Damn…!” She managed to shutter. He must have missed her.

“Sorry” he apologized, though the look on his face was far from remorseful. He needed that. It must have been really long, as he felt his ballsack lighter than ever. His load was condensed and impressively rich. Aza was dumbfounded how generously he climaxed. Like a breeding stallion!

“So, I assume you’re a boob person?” She joked, reaching for the towel. She was sweaty and soaked in sperm, it felt great in its dirty, lewd simplicity. Lazily, Erik got up and pulled her to do the same.

“I’m a you person.” He said straightforwardly.

“You shouldn’t have said that.” She sighed with a frown.

“I know, but I don’t care.” He declared carelessly.

“It’s because you’re young and stupid.”

“I know. And speaking of being stupid…” He picked her up. She was heavy, but nothing he couldn’t handle. “This is my favorite part of a traditional Nord sauna. The one I forgot to tell you about.” He said cheerfully. He kicked a backdoor open, which up to now Aza took for a wall, and with the Redguard in his arms he jumped out of the small wooden cabin into a freshly cracked air hole. Ice-cold water closed around them. As Aza resurfaced, her scream could be heard all across the Pale.

When she gathered her bearings she beat him. He managed to dodge some of her attacks and even counter a few, but in the end she gave him a black eye. It was totally worth it.

---

Windhelm was the heart of Stormcloak influence in Skyrim. The city was ancient and beautiful, but also cold and unwelcoming. Ice made the stone pavement treacherous, not to mention any steps. Snow was stuffing every corner and crevice. The air was dry and cold, taking a deeper breath felt as if one swallowed pounded glass. Even the native Nords felt the chill that pervaded everyone and everything.

The two, from lack of better term, adventurers sold their spoils, inquired about the local news and got a few leads on some small jobs, like retrieving a stolen heirloom, slaying a beast that roamed the area or bringing someone a specific object. Erik wanted to see the city, curious of its landmarks. History marked every street and building. They passed Windhelm before, but that was when they were camping, and they weren’t supposed to visit any settlements. Displeased, his partner gave in. They wandered the city weary of their steps. When it was almost dark, she led him to a house in the wealthier district, exclusively Nord.

“Not the inn?” He questioned, seeing as she opened the door with a key.

“Candlehearth Hall? No. It’s too costly and inhospitable for the quality of their services.” Aza dismissed, closing the door behind them. “And I doubt we’d be welcome in the Grey Quarter either.”

The house was large and roomy, but completely empty. No one lived there for some time, the decorations and most furnishings were gone. Only a few pots and blankets were left, slowly gathering dust.

“Why is a house like this abandoned?” Erik asked, feeling a strange chill cover his bare shoulders. Ever since the vampire incident he wore pants under his armor’s skirt.

“No one wants it.” She explained, heading towards the kitchen. Sadly, the only thing left was the cooking spit and embers in the hearth. They had to cook their own supplies.

“Why?” He kept asking, staying true to his curious nature.

“There’s been a murder here. No one had lived here since.”

“Oh…” Erik exhaled loudly. He wasn’t superstitious, or at least he thought so. But he felt uneasy knowing the previous owner was killed in their own home.

“At ease, it’s not haunted.” She assured, trying to set fire under the coals. “We’ll sleep in the kitchen, this place is so damned chilly. Here” she handed him one of the kettles. “Get some snow from outside; I’m going to improvise a stew.”

“No, I’m going to improvise a stew.” He insisted. “My cooking is far better than yours. You get the snow, I’ll prepare the bedrolls.”

“Whatever” she agreed. She’d hit him over the head with the kettle, if it weren’t true. As the innkeeper’s son, Erik knew how to prepare plain, but edible grub from anything there was to gather.

He cooked, she covered the windows with the rags and blankets she found, not to give away their presence. They ate, then laid back, trying to ignore the eerie silence in the abandoned house.

“Too bad we couldn’t see the Palace of the Kings” Erik sighed disappointed. At least they were at the Temple of Talos. It felt… right to openly pray without fear of persecution. She wasn’t religious, apparently, but was respectful towards the priests and quietly sat in one of the back rows, contemplating the serenity of the temple.

“Nothing breathtaking, trust me” Aza assured, wiping what was left of the stew with the last piece of bread.

“Have you met Ulfric Stormcloak?” He asked, the familiar sparks danced in his eyes. The brat wanted a bedtime story.

“Kinda, yeah.” She admitted resentfully. “First time I was in Windhelm.”

“I was thinking about Helgen.” He corrected.

“And why do you think I was there?” She rested on her side, her brows crossed.

“Well… Ulfric was, and a dragon too… And when we were passing Helgen you were so tense. So, I just assumed you were there as well.” Erik added one to two. He had the talent to ask the right and inconvenient questions.

“Yeah, I was there, waiting for execution along with the rest of the Stormcloaks. And before you ask, I’m not on their side. I’m not on anyone’s side, I want nothing to do with politics.”

“So, what happened?”

“Bad luck. I was jumping the boarder and fell into an Imperial ambush along with the rebels. They round us up in line for the chopping block. No hard feelings on my part, though I didn’t want to die just because I was at the wrong time and place. And then…” she swallowed with difficulty. Her throat was dry, and there was no drink handy. “A big-ass dragon wreaked havoc on Helgen. Yeah, that’s how I met Ulfric, though I was too busy surviving to exchange pleasantries.”

“What then?”

“Gods, you’re so nosy it makes my teeth hurt!” She suddenly screamed. Her voice echoed in the empty house. She crawled to where he was resting and laid down on him, grabbing his wrists and pinning them to the floor.

“I’m… I’m sorry!” Erik tried to calm her down.

“I’m not a damned freakshow, you know? Stop interrogating me!”

“I never thought you were a freak! A bitch with a terrible personality, but never a freak!” He swore. Her grip loosened.

“That’s what I want to hear, maggot!” She hissed, letting go. “My turn!” She announced with a nasty grin. “I’m going to invade your privacy for a change, how do you like that?”

“There’s nothing to invade, Aza.” Erik said with a sigh. “I’m boring.”

“That’s up to me to decide.”

“Fine, ask.” He surrendered.

“Tell me, what was it like growing up in Rorikstead?”

“Good. Dull.” He answered briefly, looking away. She had no intention of getting off him.

“You’re not even trying.”

“Well, what do you want me to say?” He frowned. “My pa fought in the Great War. He settled down to raise a family. My ma died before I learned to walk. I don’t remember her.”

“I’m sorry.” Aza said. She noticed he never mentioned his mother, but didn’t push the subject. Until now.

“It’s okay.” He said calmly, at peace with his loss. “It’s not like I knew what I was missing, right? I worked since I learned to walk and use tools. When I was old enough, I started farming. It was dull. My father had many books he bought from Cyrodiil. I begged him to teach me to read, but he was too busy. But he got Rorik’s steward to teach me in his spare time. And I read all of my father’s books, each dozens of times.”

“What kind of books?”

“You probably know. Adventure, romance, heroic ballads.” His thoughts drifted away. “By the time I grew my first chin hairs I didn’t need to read them anymore as I memorized every tome. I could kick back, relax and recreate everything in my head. And that saved me.”

“From what?”

“I’m not sure myself. I wasn’t abused, I never had to go hungry. I had a roof over my head and my pa loved me. Maybe he was a bit overprotective, but he meant well. My peers didn’t bully me, I had a few friends. Nothing bad ever happened to scar me for life. But Aza… I felt so out of place. My life was good, but so meaningless. There were moments I felt I was going to scream until I lose my voice. Eventually, most of my friends moved away, whilst I stayed in Rorikstead to live my bleak life, working the field and cleaning rooms. My pastimes included jerking-off and listening to the unrealistic songs of the bards. But I had my books and daydreams. Maybe those made me a bit strange and absent-minded, but Aza! I was sane!” His voice shook.

“Erik…” she reached to touch his cheek, but he grabbed her hand. His hair, usually swept back, covered his eyes.

“And then you came along. You humiliated me, plucked me out of what little dignity I had, played with me, almost had me assault you… And then helped me out. I’d die there if it weren’t for you. You have an awful attitude, and you’re far from gentle, but…” his jaws clenched. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Aza wanted to say something snappy, but nothing came to her mind. Her instincts were right about busting him out of Rorikstead. If she didn’t, he’d either kill himself or snap and hurt someone. His dark side was too dangerous and well-hidden to be left alone.

“Okay, okay, you impassioned fool.” She said softly, laying on him, her cheek rested on his collarbone. “I’m here to watch your back and wipe your nose.”

“And give me blowjobs?” He suggested.

“And give you blowjobs.” She agreed.

“No more questions for now?”

“No more. I think we had enough heart-to-heart for tonight.”

“Can I get a kiss goodnight?” He asked in his normal cheerful tone.

“I could give you more than that…” her voice dropped an octave.

There was a sudden shuffling noise. A large clay pot skidded into the kitchen. They both froze, petrified by irrational fear. The pot slid alongside the floor, until it met with a sudden crack in the wood. It toppled over, revealing a robust skeever. It climbed onto its hind legs and surveyed the room. When it noticed the couple in the corner, it dashed away into one of the nooks in the floor.

“If there was any mood, it’s definitely gone now.” Erik concluded, still a bit shaken.

“Yeah, let’s get some sleep.” She got off and lied next to him, clenching his side. It was so damned cold in this city.

---

Windhelm provided a lot of odd jobs for a modest pay. They remained almost a week in the freezing city, spending their nights in the abandoned house. But as days passed, it became clear that sooner or later someone would notice them squatting in a house they didn’t own. It was time to pack their things and move on. They made some gold from small tasks they performed for people around the city. Surprisingly, it was the Argonians living in the docks outside of Windhelm, who paid most generously for retrieving a trinket or talking down someone in the city walls. It was Shahvee, a female Argonian, who pointed them to a bigger, more complex job; guarding a Khajiit caravan.

“She has breasts?” Erik asked dumbfounded, when they were walking along the bridge that connected Windhelm with land.

“I know, right? Why? They don’t nurse their children, so why do they have those in the first place?” Aza shared his curiosity. “Okay, stay cool and let me do the talking.” She advised, as they approached the Khajiit camp near the stables.

“This one welcomes you.” The leader of the caravan greeted them, squinting his feline eyes. “What business do you have with Ma’dran?”

“I hear you need guards for your caravan. I have experience with protecting caravans, my friend is durable and fierce. We can get you safely anywhere you need on Skyrim.”

The cat didn’t bother with getting up from his ottoman. He eyed Aza, then Erik. He nodded. Their scars and signs of usage on their weapons and armor apparently appealed to him.

“Ma’dran’s nephew is a student in the College of Winterhold. He’s a source of pride to the whole family. Unfortunately, his father recently passed away. Ma’dran has been entrusted with delivering his ashes to the mourning son. You will escort the caravan north. The road is not long, but treacherous, inhospitable to the likes of this one. My guards are loyal and experienced, but time is crucial. We leave at dawn, you will be provided with food and drink…” he paused. “No mead, no ale. Warm water.”

“Understood.” She agreed without a word of protest.

“Has the other any questions?” The cat asked, widening his bestial face with a smile that exposed his sharp ivory teeth. One of his fangs was solid gold.

Aza spent the next hour planning, arguing and negotiating with the Khajiit, whilst Erik patiently stood by her side, every now and then clearing his throat or adjusting his axe. Finally, it was settled that the two would escort the Khajiit merchants and in return be paid a satisfying sum, along with the promise of a discount for any future purchases with any of the Khajiit caravans present on Skyrim.

“I’ll bet my good eye that we’re helping them smuggle skooma to the bored students up at the College.” She whispered into his ear, as they wandered a bit away from the camp.

“Isn’t that a bit prejudiced?” Erik asked incredulously.

“I could be mistaken. But if something goes wrong run like the wind.”

“They have horses. I’m guessing we’re travelling on foot?” He said with a heavy sigh.

---

No bandit in their right mind would plunder in the weather that followed. Wind and snowing didn’t stop for two days as they travelled north, off the main roads. It was the beasts, crazed by the cold and hunger, that were the problem. Their white furs made them hard to spot until they struck. And they were larger and stronger than those found in the southern half of the province. Aza was at the disadvantage because of her one working eye, but her senses of hearing and smell were sharper than most people’s. Erik was alert, a trait he learned while camping. Some of the roads they travelled were familiar from their camping trip. Still, Winterhold was dangerous and unwelcoming.

“This one regrets not staying in Elsweyr.” Ra’zhinda, the female guard complained, covering her sensitive nose with her furry tail. “Her paws would feel much happier bare on the warm sands.”

“If it’s warmth you need, kitten, you know where I sleep!” Aza called out to her. In return, the Khajiit’s ears stood at attention, and then fluttered. The cat was considering the offer.

A shadow slid above them with incredible speed, followed by a strong airstream and tiny shards of ice that felt as if they could cut skin. A roar from the sky startled Ma’dran’s horse, which almost stampeded panicked if it weren’t for its master and his whipping rod.

“DRAGON!” Ma’jhad, the other guard shouted, pointing at the barely visible shape in the snowy sky.

The dragon was white, just as the wolves, bears and foxes that populated the area. It landed directly ahead of their path in the narrow gorge. The ground shook underneath its massive body. The beast’s wings stretched sideways, blocking the path. It roared, conjuring another small earthquake. The Khajiit immediately retreated on their mounts.

“Pull back, pull back!” Aza shouted. “No! Run!” She cried, when she saw Erik arm himself with his trusty axe. Meanwhile, the dragon took a deep breath, which meant only one thing.

“FO KRAH DIIN!” It exhaled a breath of ice. Aza dashed left, Erik dashed right. She recognized the Words, he heard only deafening roar.

“Aza!” He called out, seeing the dragon’s eyes set on her. Her black hair and dark skin were clearly visible in the snow. The Redguard, dashed away from the dragon’s jaws, the beast bit into solid rock behind her. Enraged, he crushed the ice between its massive jaws.

“Run, idiot! RUN!” She shrieked, attempting to get behind it. The dragon turned its massive head and long neck to its hind legs, trying to bite her upper body off. Erik seized opportunity and leaped towards it, his axe ready to hack and slash. He struck from above, severely cutting the dragon’s neck, but not deeply enough to sever its head.

“I’m here, you damned beast!” He yelled, as the dragon turned to face him. He had no time to think or feel fear. There was no chance of escape, the Khajiit were long gone by now. They were alone with the dragon.

“IS SLEN-” The white monster attempted to use its Voice on the daring little human.

“YOL TOOR SHUL!” Aza’s Voice was heard with force from behind. Erik felt a flash of heat, as she exhaled fire directly at the dragon’s rear. It roared in pain, getting off the ground with a few flaps of its leathery wings. The blast of air almost bending the two to the ground.

“I told you to run!” She yelled, running towards him.

“It’s no use! We have to fight it!” He yelled back. “There’s no escaping now!”

“Shit!” She cried out, as the beast encircled them. “Come on, it’s too narrow to maneuver here. There should be a clearing up the road!”

They ran, followed by the dragon. A few yards later, they found themselves in a much wider, but still desperate position. All around them were mountains and snow, too high and steep to climb. The path behind them was instantly blocked, as the dragon landed and was now creeping up on them. Its wings, underbelly and tail left deep rows in the almost solid-frozen ground. Steam was coming from its nostrils.

“Erik…” her voice shook, but somehow she managed to gather her bearings. “Draw it under that slope, the one with the loose rocks. Run like Oblivion itself, when you hear my Voice.”

“Got it!” He said with a nod.

He leapt towards the monster’s head, dodging its horns and maw. He struck it just behind the eye, but didn’t stop to see if that did any good. He scraped its side with the axe and kept luring it under the wall. Meanwhile, Aza ran towards her position, praying that Erik doesn’t trip or get smacked by the dragon’s tail. But he had to do it! After all, he was with her and she was the damned Dragonborn right? Right?!

“Aza!” He called, as the beast almost stomped him. They were at the wall, a few rocks slid down the slope.

“Get out of the damned way! Move! Move! Move!” She yelled. Erik rolled to the ground, avoiding his arm getting chewed off. He got up on his feet and ran.

“Aza! Whatever it is, do it now!”

“FUS RO DAH!” She Shouted. Her Thu’um was not directed at the dragon, but the mass of loose rocks and boulders above it.

As her Voice clashed against them, an avalanche came crushing down on the white monster. It tried to fly away, but a large boulder fell on its wing, immobilizing it. The rocks, ice and snow that followed smashed its back and almost cracked the horned head. The dragon roared, as if it was trying to rip the sky open.

“It’s still alive!” Erik cried, getting up. The moment the Shout conjured an avalanche, he dashed from its radius, falling flat on his stomach.

“GIVE ME THAT!” She groaned, pulling his axe from his grasp. He didn’t protest. This was between her and the monster.

“Dovahkiin…” It said as she approached it, clenching the Orcish axe. The dragon’s white scales were stained with blood, one of the horns broke off. From neck down it was completely buried in ice and stone. “Still running?”

“Pucker up, lizard. Your soul is mine.” She foretold gravely, raising the axe.

She struck the dragon right between the eyes. And again. And then again, until the orichalcum cracked the thick skull and sunk into the soft flesh of the brain. The dragon released a sound being a combination of a grunt and hiss, then its head hit the ground.

Aza released the axe, still plunged into the dragon’s cranium. Something started to happen. The beast’s scales and flesh began to peel off, like paper set on fire. Bare bones appeared underneath. They started to radiate golden and white light that somehow streamed towards, no, into the Redguard. She took a step back, peering into the dragon’s now hollow eyesockets. The tendrils of light pervaded her body, strong wind followed, her black hair danced in the current. Finally, as she absorbed the dragon’s soul completely, she was tightly enveloped by a radiant layer of gold and white, which quickly sunk into her body.

“By the Nine…!” Erik whispered in awe. She devoured its soul completely, just like in the legends!

She ignored him, climbing the dragon’s burial mound. As she reached the top, her head bent backwards, her mouth pointing directly at the sky.

“FINE! YOU WIN! I GIVE UP! I’LL DO IT! I’LL BE YOUR DAMNED HERO!” She cursed the Gods, her voice caused another small tremor. “AND AFTER I’M DONE I WANT NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU! YOU HEAR ME?! NOTHING!!!”

Chapter Text

Her throat was sore from Shouting and screaming. The skies remained indifferent. What was she thinking? Did she hope that if she ignores the problem it would simply go away? How could she be such an idiot?! Such a… a pathetic coward! There was a huge black dragon out there, that wanted to devour the world. Her world, the one she liked and enjoyed. The world that was home to her daughter, who was just entering her teen years. The world that, though sometimes so messed up, cruel and unfair, was worthy of saving. She didn’t want to do it. She was the least suitable person for the task. But she had to, fate made itself clear. And the sooner she gets it over with, the sooner she can have her life back.

She got off the pile of rocks with the dragon’s skeleton underneath, pulling the axe out of its skull while she was at it.

“Congrats Erik!” She said with a mad grin, as she gave him his weapon back. “You’re going to assist the fabled Dragonborn with saving the world from Alduin World-Eater! Are you happy now?”

“Um… I guess.” He replied dumbfounded. Though what he just witnessed was hard to believe, he didn’t dwell upon it. A dragon attacked. She killed it, then she ate its soul. And now she decided to finally step up to the task the Divines entrusted her with. And he had no intention of letting her do it alone. Simple enough.

“Great. Come on, we’re picking up where I left. We need to get to the College of Winterhold anyway, and find out what they know about the Elder Scrolls. I’ll brief you along the way.”

---

She told him everything. From when she escaped Helgen with one of the prisoners and how they got to Riverwood, to meeting the leader of the Greybeards on top of the Throat of the World. Finally, she told him how she chickened out and wandered aimlessly around the province, eventually travelling to Rorikstead.

It sounded crazy, like a madman’s rambling. Alduin wasn’t defeated, but pushed forward in time? And they had to obtain an Elder Scroll to somehow go back in time and learn a Shout that could knock a dragon from the sky, because there was no other way of defeating him? The leader of the Greybeards was a dragon himself? This was insane! But he believed her, doubt never crossed his mind. Perhaps, he was still naive and childish. Or maybe he just knew, that when someone tells you something as unbelievable as this, it must be true. Especially, if that someone is a person you know and trust.

After few days of hiking through the freezing terrain, they approached the crumbling bridge that led to the College. It was guarded by a High Elf. When Aza demonstrated her favorite Unrelenting Shout, the College representative let them enter without a word of protest. The College was filled with arcane secrets and Magica and made them quite uneasy.

Their best bet was the library. The librarian was an old Orc who, though spoke civilized and elaborate, had no sense of humor and treated his work with grave devotion. After a bit of convincing, he agreed to help them. First, he explained the nature of the Elder Scrolls, which made their heads spin. Then, he allowed them to read two specific tomes devoted to the Scrolls. Erik passed the opportunity. Scholar books were not his field of interest. Even if he were imprisoned in a dark cellar with those two tomes, he’d sooner use them to wipe his arse than read them.

After a few hours of reading, Aza learned about a mad scholar hiding out somewhere in a glacial cave to the north. The scholar was supposedly an expert on the Scrolls, they had to find him. With a deep sigh, they left the College and rented a boat to search the icy coast. She instantly felt the cold paying its toll on her. Erik soon followed; though he was a pureblooded Nord, he couldn’t feel his joints. It took them long hours and a litany of curses before finally locating the scholar’s outpost.

Septimus Signus was with no doubt a madman. Although the spark in his eyes was of a man who saw incredible things. The entire time he spoke, he was nervously glancing at the elaborate Dwemer mechanism behind him. Finally, he provided them with a blank Lexicon and an attunement sphere. He also told them where to look for the Scroll; first a dwarven ruin known as Alftand. From there, they should access a place he only referred to as ‘Blackreach’. Wherever and whatever Blackreach was, they were supposed to enter a construction he called the ‘Tower of Mzark’ somewhere in the vicinity. The Scroll should be kept safe there.

They left in haste, Alftand was in the nearby mountains. But first, they had to stock up on supplies in Winterhold as this was going to be a long and perilous journey.

Whilst they were preparing for the expedition, Erik was approached by a courier. The man was trembling from the cold and was relieved to finally deliver the package he was carrying. Whatever it was, it had no name on it. Only a symbol that vaguely resembled an eye.

“See that?” Aza said, tapping it with her finger. “Thieves Guild emblem.”

“What could they possibly want with me?” Erik wondered, giving the package an distrusting look.

“Not sure. Come on, you’ll open it once we get a room in the tavern.”

The package contained a note and a set of leather armor complete with boots and gloves. Erik read the message, with each word growing redder and redder.

“What? What’s it say?” She asked intrigued. Without a word he handed her the mysterious note. She eagerly began reading.

“Lad! I’m sure you played no small part in solving that little… problem I had. As I told the lass, I am in her debt (and that means something). But I thought I’d give you a little token of my gratitude; one of our armors to protect that stunning behind of yours. I think I got the size right. No hood included, I want to imagine that flaming hair of yours flowing carelessly in the wind. Best regards – B.” She folded the note with an unbelieving grin. That rascal! “Well now, it looks like uncle Brynjolf hasn’t forgotten about you! Try it on, your old armor is pretty worn out.” She urged, sitting at the table with their dinner. Tonight they were having her favorite: rabbit, ale and pears.

Reluctantly, Erik slipped into the new armor. It was surprisingly comfortable. Though thinner and less sturdy than his old armor, it fit perfectly. His moves weren’t constrained even the slightest bit. The leather was black, matte and soft. Although, it didn’t seem to be easily cut or pierced.

“It fits me like a glove!” He said, amazed how the armor seemed to shift with his every move. As he sat next to her, the leather seemed to stretch and shrink in the appropriate places, perfectly enveloping him. Though, he might just be imagining things. “But won’t this be a problem?” He asked concerned. All his life was spent on hard honest work, he didn’t want to be associated with the Guild.

“I don’t think so…” Aza judged, examining his new look. The set was based on the one higher members of the Guild wore, but there were some alterations that ruled out any connections to the organization. It was elegant, practical, protected what it should, and… looked damn good. “Nope, I doubt anyone will take you for a Guild member. Besides, your lack of lockpicking skills will soon give you away.”

“I don’t need lockpicks, I have an axe!” He said confidently. “Oh, I know that leer.” He noticed, bending back. The black leather silently morphed to support his back and protect his chest. He wasn’t sure was it some elaborate tailoring, or perhaps the material used to craft the set was something more than just leather.

“Yeah, but stay focused” she sighed. “We should get some sleep, we leave first thing in the morning. But I’ll be keeping a close eye on you…” She murmured, brushing his shoulder. Instantly, the material on his crotch expanded, making room for his developing erection. It shrunk almost immediately afterwards, they had a job to do.

---

Alftand was a nightmare, filled with booby traps and lethal Dwemer automations. It took them two days to reach the mechanism, which after connecting the attunement sphere revealed spiral stairs that led further below, into Blackreach.

The cryptic place was nothing they had ever seen. It was a completely new world! At first, they thought it was a Dwemer city built in a huge cave, but that description didn’t do it justice. Whether natural or expanded by the dwarves, it was an incomprehensible dome with the ruins of an ancient metropolis underneath. Though there was no sky with the sun or moons, everything seemed to generate light on its own. The dome was marked with glowing blue and green veins. Every now and then there were mushrooms as tall as watchtowers and transparent crystals that released a subtle chime. The river that ran through the ruins was also radiant, though neither of them risked drinking from it. Blackreach was a place of alien, otherworldly beauty.

But they weren’t alone. Aside from deadly automations that still functioned, even though so many centuries had passed, Blackreach was also home to the filthy Falmer and rabid insect-like creatures they herded. Erik and Aza had no chance of surviving if they took the direct approach. Therefore, although it took them much longer, they advanced cautiously, waiting still for hours until they could move to another relatively safe spot. They seldom talked, focusing on their surroundings. The armor Brynjolf provided was a true blessing; it muffled Erik’s steps and seemed to make his joints lighter and swifter.

After three more days of exploring, waiting, hiding and avoiding certain death, they reached the Tower of Mzark. The Elder Scroll was hidden somewhere within.

---

“You take it.” She elbowed his side.

“No, you take it!” He refused, his voice raised a pitch.

“I don’t want to touch it.” She confessed, apprehensive.

“Me neither.”

They gawked at the Scroll resting in a capsule the ancient dwarves built into their elaborate puzzle. It took them several hours to finally crack it open with the aid of the blank Lexicon. The damned Deep Folk knew how to build puzzles and traps alike.

There it was, the ultimate source of knowledge and understanding. An artifact from outside time and space was within arm’s reach. But neither of them wanted it, neither of them felt worthy. She was a former caravan guard forced to roam the world. He was a farm boy who wanted a better life. The Scroll scared both of them shitless.

“Okay” Aza sighed, reaching for it. “Let’s just hope the whole place won’t come crashing down on our heads once I take it. One… two…”

Nothing dramatic happened when she took the Scroll, aside from a door opening, revealing a lift that conveniently led to the snowy mountain top.

“I never thought I’d be so happy to see mountains and snow.” She exclaimed, trembling and adjusting to the light.

“I missed the outside world!” Erik took a deep breath of fresh mountain air with delight.

“Let’s get going. The sooner we show this to Paarthurnax, the better I’ll feel.”

“What about the spoils?” He inquired, weighting a purse filled with precious gems they either found on fallen automations, in Dwemer containers, or inside rich geode veins scattered all across Blackreach.

“Horses.” She replied briefly, using some leather strips to tie the Scroll up in case it somehow unfolds and blinds or kills them.

“You once said horses were more trouble then they’re worth.” He recalled, avoiding looking at the artifact.

“Yes. They’re hard to hide, attract predators, can’t get to many places, and if one dies or gets injured, you’re left with too much than you can carry. But time is crucial and we travel light. Besides, what do we need all those rubies and diamonds for?”

---

They headed south, making a brief stop in Whiterun Stables, which had the fleetest horses in all of Skyrim. Negotiating with the horse master didn’t take long. In exchange for a flawless diamond and two emeralds, he offered them a pair of mares, assuring that although they weren’t fierce warhorses or swift racehorses, the two were calm, durable and could go on for hours without rest. Just the perfect mounts they needed. Erik took the bay one, Aza got the paint. They set off to High Hrothgar.

“I’m surprised you can ride those!” She called.

“I can’t jump over obstacles, but I won’t fall off!” He assured, almost running over a wayward chicken.

---

“So… I’ll just wait for you here?” He guessed, marveling at the walls of High Hrothgar. Their horses were left in Ivarstead, climbing the seven thousand steps was too risky for them.

“I don’t think you should follow me all the way to the top, but I’ll be damned if you didn’t earn the right to enter the monastery.” She assured, pushing the doors open.

Once inside, they were greeted by Arngeir, the only monk that could communicate with outsiders.

“Dragonborn, you return… with company.” He stated dispassionately. He didn’t move an inch, Erik wondered would dust fall of him if he’d blow some air on the top of his head.

“Master Arngeir, this is Erik the Slayer. Without him I wouldn’t be able to recover the Scroll.” Aza explained. “He’s a part of this. He stays.”

“I see… Erik the Slayer, welcome to High Hrothgar.” The Greybeard welcomed the young hero.

“I… Um…” He had no idea what to say. He almost forgot about that juvenile name he gave himself. The Slayer… No, that was who he became when he lost control, not who he really was.

“I really want to get this off my hands, so we’ll be on our way.” The Redguard sighed. The Scroll was an unpleasant burden to carry.

They left for the courtyard, whilst Arngeir remained in his place, still immovable. Once outside, they were met with two other monks, almost indistinguishable from one another.

“Master Wulfgar, Master Borri” she greeted them respectfully. The monks said nothing, but nodded in response. “Okay, this is where we part.” She said, as they approached a stone arch that led to the top of the mountain. “I’ll be back soon. I think.”

“Okay. Good luck.” He bid, feeling his heart sink. He wanted to go with her badly, but understood he needed to stay behind for this part.

“The view from that watchtower is unbelievable, you should go take a look.” She advised, facing the arch talking a deep breath. “LOK VAH KOOR!” She Shouted, dispelling the whirlwind that guarded the path.

---

The view was breathtaking indeed. Erik could see a large part of the province with incredible clarity. He relaxed, feasting his eyes on his homeland. There was still a lot of it to explore. And when Skyrim seems too small… Well, there was a whole world to see!

The weather was worsening, dark clouds were approaching… unnaturally fast. The sound of thunder rang hollow throughout the monastery. Wait, that wasn’t thunder, it was a blood-curdling roar. A dragon was approaching! It flew over the tower, almost sweeping Erik off the icy floor. He yelled a curse and ran down the steps, back to the courtyard.

That dragon was bristling with black metallic scales, as sharp as tips of spears. It flew over the stone arch, its massive wings broke the wind spell securing the passage. The little hero followed without hesitation. That was no ordinary dragon. It was Him: Alduin.

The path was narrow, steep and dangerous. He pushed on forward with determination, though he knew he’d end up several feet below, if he’d make one wrong step. The sharp rocks and shards of ice underneath conjured a vision of him with his bones broken and insides spilling out, hoarfrost steadily setting on his lifeless eyeballs and gnashed teeth. He pushed those pointless thoughts away, focusing on the path up ahead. He heard another roar, followed by another dragon’s growl, then a Shout. He was getting close. He almost slipped on what he took for solid rock, but turned out to be ice. He paid it no mind. He was almost at the top.

---

“Paarthurnax, draw him away from me!” Aza yelled, avoiding Alduin’s sharp horns. Damned bastard appeared out of nowhere, right after she read the cursed Scroll and had a vision that revealed the secret of the Dragonrend Shout, giving her a chance to immediately test it out.

“You are feeble, Dovahkiin!” Alduin’s voice tore the sky, though it sounded more like a call from under the ground. He was bleeding from a wide cut on his throat, but it was nothing for him. The almost rock-solid snow around him was melting form the blood and the very heat the monstrous dragon radiated.

“Bite me!” She taunted, dashing away from his wing, feeling his unnatural heat dangerously close.

“Arrogant mortals! Your pride will be…!”

Paarthurnax bit the black dragon’s neck, ending his tirade. The two ancients clashed, the mountain shook from summit to the very foot. Below, residents of Ivarstead and Riverwood came out of their homes, fearfully gazing into the darkening sky.

Alduin managed to free himself from the gray dragon’s bite. He suddenly felt the wretched feebleness pinning him to the ground pass. He flapped his leathery wings, rising up in the air. Paarthurnax scrapped his back with his claws, trying to wrestle him back down, but it was a futile attempt.

“FAAS!” The Redguard shouted straight at Alduin’s exposed underbelly. He hit the ground with toppling impact. His red eyes burned like coals on the very bottom of Oblivion.

“YOL…” An axe hitting his hind quarters disrupted his Shout. He groaned surprised by such arrogance. Who dared attack him?!

“About damned time!” Aza called out as Erik pulled his weapon out with difficulty. “MOVE!” Her voice turned into a scream when the black dragon turned his long, razor-like neck to grab him between his jaws.

Erik’s short adventuring career and life would end on the spot if it weren’t for Paarthurnax, who grabbed him in his maw and pulled away in the nick of time. Alduin crushed only ice and rock where the young hero stood just a second ago.

“Treacherous Paarthurnax!” Alduin grunted, whilst the grey dragon released the young hero at a safe distance. Spouting steam from his maw, he spread his nightmarish wings, completely obstructing the fading rays of the sun.

Seizing opportunity, Aza ran up to him and slid under his chest; her sword plunged where his heart should be. Alduin’s voice was like an avalanche. He sprung into the air with her blade jammed between his ribs, his wretched dark blood gushing from his chest. With his axe ready, Erik sprinted towards him in case the World-Eater tried to stomp his partner. But the black dovah had no such intention.

“Fools, I cannot be slain!” He roared maliciously, as he encircled the summit before taking off and fading into the horizon.

“Give me my sword back!” She called after him, hopelessly throwing bits of rock and ice. “Great! Now what? Where’s he off to?” She turned to the remaining ancient. The battle was over with no defined victor.

“One of his allies could tell us. But it will not be easy to convince him to betray Alduin.” The grey dragon said calmly, taking his usual resting place at the top of the Word Wall. His glance turned to the young Nord.

“Um… Hi.” Erik said, unsure what to do.

“It’s okay, he’s with me.” Aza vouched, scrapping red snow off her pauldrons. “Any ideas?”

“Perhaps the palace in Whiterun? It was built to host a captive dovah…” Paarthurnax suggested slowly, not used to mortal tongue.

“Great… The Jarl will wet his breeches.” The heroine predicted with a scowl. “Come on, Erik. Back to Whiterun.”

“And I hoped to get some sleep in a normal bed…” He sighed, shaking off some of Paarthurnax’s drool. The grey dragon might have saved his life, but his mouth smelled.

---

After speaking to Jarl Balgruuf, they left Dragonsreach in particularly sour moods.

“He wants us to end the war?!” Erik couldn’t believe what he just heard. They weren’t miracle workers!

“Not end the war, dumbass. Just help achieve temporary truce, so no one attacks Whiterun while we…” Aza rubbed her temples, “…summon a dragon, then capture and interrogate it…” She swallowed loudly. She had no idea which part was more impossible to complete.

“So, off to High Hrothgar again?” Erik sighed, remembering what an exhausting toil climbing the seven thousand steps was.

“First, I got to get me a decent blade.” She said, patting the almost completely dulled iron sword she took from a highwayman foolish enough to stand in their way. “Come on, I know just the man.”

Eorlund Gray-Mane, the blacksmith of the Companions, was said to be the best in all of Skyrim. Although some, mostly other blacksmiths, attributed his success to the unique properties of the Skyforge.

“I see my dagger serves you well…” He welcomed without lifting his gaze from a piece of metal he was shaping. “And where’s the armor and sword I made you, hm?”

“Long story.” Aza said bluntly. “Me and my partner are off on a long and dangerous task, I need a good blade. A very good blade from the very best.”

“Sweet talking will get you nowhere.” Eorlund scoffed, putting the red-hot rod in water, conjuring a cloud of steam. “And what about him?” He asked, pointing at Erik, with the now cool piece of steel.

“I’m good.” Erik said calmly. He liked his axe, it had history.

“I have two swords. Glass, lassie. Are you interested?”

“Are you?” She asked, offering him the few gems they had left. Eorlund’s face was still perfectly still as he examined the gemstones. He fished out two rubies and several amethysts.

“I’ll have them ready today, late afternoon. Do you want armor with that? It will take another day, though.”

“No, we have little time to spare.” She declined with a sincere sigh. She missed her scantly armor, but the steel one still served her well. And time was a commodity.

“Alright. You, laddie!” He turned his stern face to Erik. “Give me one pretty gem and I’ll sharpen that axe, so that it will split a hair in half.”

“I could use that…” Erik agreed, giving the blacksmith his axe and a flawless garnet.

“Alright” Eorlund allowed himself to smile briefly, pleased with his payment. “Get out. Come back later, I have a lot of steel to shape.”

“Well, while he’s busy with our weapons, let’s go find an old friend of mine.” Aza suggested, as they passed a beautiful tree in front of the Temple of Kynareth. The pink petals, dangerously resembling feminine parts, danced in the wind. They were said to prolong one’s life, but the real thing probably worked better.

“Why?”

“Well… I’ve been thinking.” She halted, allowing two children to run pass them; a Nord boy and Redguard girl throwing pebbles at his back. “This is getting pretty serious, and with just the two of us… We’ll need support. I’m a dual wielder, you’re a heavy hitter. So, we could use an archer and a mage. Since dragons breathe fire, Dunmer are our best bet. I know two people perfect for the job. They both owe me a favor.”

“That makes sense.” He agreed. Though, four was a crowd and he liked it more… intimate.

“Okay” she put her hand on the knob to the Drunken Huntsman “She should be here.”

As they entered the shop, the irritated Bosmer proprietor told them that the Dark Elf mercenary had just left Whiterun after having a small ‘argument’ with him. His black eye said it all. They left the establishment in haste, heading towards the city’s exit gate.

“Good old Jenassa, I knew she wouldn’t be that easy to locate!” Aza laughed, adjusting her new swords on her back. She instantly fell in love with them, they were elegant and as light as a feather. Despite the grumpy attitude, Eorlund was a true artist.

“So… should we find this woman?”

“One thing at a time. First, High Hrothgar, then Windhelm and finally Solitude.” The Redguard enumerated.

“A nice trip. Hope the horses make it.” Erik rubbed his chin.

“Better question – are we going to make it?” She laughed. “Know what? I don’t need this anymore.” She suddenly said, handing him her trusty dagger.

“What?” Erik was surprised. That thing was her lucky charm!

“I have two decent swords, you have that clunky axe. You need a small, quick sidearm. Take mine.”

“But… are you sure?”

“Just take it.” She insisted, looking away embarrassed by her own generosity. “Who knows when you might need it?”

---

Arngeir understood the weight of the situation. Although the Greybeards had no interest in politics, he agreed to host a meeting in the monastery. The two heroes left the mountain in haste and set off on a straight course to Windhelm.

Reluctantly, Jarl Ulfric agreed to come to the meeting, possibly persuaded by the authority of his old masters who taught him the Voice. General Tullius was all that was left. They stocked up on supplies for their journey across the province. They still had some jewels left, but didn’t flaunt them. They needed funds for the upcoming task.

“Gods, I think I miss farming now…” Erik complained, slipping his sore feet into a cold stream.

Meanwhile, Aza was studying her old map of Skyrim. It was a messy sheet, filled with notes and symbols only she could decipher.

“Before we go to Solitude, there’s something I want to do.” She announced, peering into the map.

“Shouldn’t we focus on our mission?” He questioned

“First, fate won’t dictate my every move. Second, this business is related to our mission… sort of. When I was at the Bard’s College… What?” She asked seeing his incredulous look. “I have no talent for singing or instruments, believe me. But I recall the head of the College needed someone to retrieve the lost part of the Poetic Edda.”

“King Olaf’s verse?” Erik asked amazed. That one was his favorite.

“Yeah. It’s supposed to be here” she tapped a spot on the map. “Dead Men’s Respite. It does mention how to capture a dragon, so let’s treat this as a nice getaway from saving the world, what do you say?”

“I say, there’s a skeleton creeping up at you.” Erik replied calmly, reluctantly pulling his feet from the soothing stream.

“Necromancers.” Aza moaned annoyed, equipping her new swords. “Lovely.”

---

Alas, before venturing into the ancient crypt, they visited another ancient ruin; Sky Haven Temple. Though the Dragonborn hadn’t been in touch with the Blades, she thought she should see what they were up to whilst she risked her life for the wellbeing of everyone and everything.

“Come again?” Aza’s eyelids didn’t even flinch.

“My Blade’s honor forbids me to aid you unless you take care of Paarthurnax. Yes, we know the leader of the Greybeards is a dragon.” Esbern replied sternly.

“Uh-oh… Leave him Delphine.” Aza warned, noticing how intently the other remaining member of the Blades was eying her partner. “I didn’t bring him to join your little club.”

“It’s us or them.” Esbern conditioned.

“Well… Thanks for your help and all, but I don’t think I’m who you expect me to be.” She scoffed with an insincere bow. “Come on, Erik. We’re wasting our time with these people.”

“Dragonborn, if you’re not with us, you’re…!” Delphine called out, but the heavy metal doors slamming behind them cut her appeal short.

“You’re not going to do it?” He inquired, cautiously.

“Of course not! After all we’ve been through, do you really think so little of me? I’m not a killer, I just want to get this over with, but not at all cost!” Aza was truly offended.

“Sorry, sorry.” Erik apologized, brushing his hair back, relieved to be out of the Akaviri temple. It made him uneasy. And those two people, who were still clinging to their long dead order? They seemed so out of place.

He suddenly recalled a seemingly unimportant memory. It was about a month before he met the Redguard wretch. He was working the field with Lemkil, a bitter man who was their neighbor since forever. His arms were exhausted and his back felt as if it was going to snap.

“Erik! Erik!” One of Lemkil’s twin daughters called, climbing up the fence at the edge of the field.

“What is it, Sissel?” He asked, putting the rake away. He was tired, but he still had much to do.

“I had a dream that there was a good dragon. He was old and gray, but he wasn't scary.” The child said, smiling widely. Blush was blooming under her dirty cheeks.

“Uh-uh.” He noted, attempting to get back to work. He liked Sissel, though she could be more absent-minded than himself.

“I just had the feeling you should know.” She said, losing her initial cheer. She sensed Erik was the only one aside from Jouane that understood her. Well, there was also Mralki, but he was always so serious and busy.

“Sure thing.” He tried to smile, but the pain in his back was too overwhelming.

“Are you still planning to go adventuring?” She asked.

“Someday.” He replied with a heavy sigh.

“Can I come with you?” She inquired.

“And what would you do, Sissel? Poke people with a stick?” He joked. The pain lessened a bit, but he was sure he’s going to sleep flat on his back tonight. Well, he still had some of that troll fat salve stashed away, so he might as well give himself some comfort…

“I’m going to be a mage one day, you’ll see!” She yelled at him, clenching her tiny fist. Her sleeve rolled up, revealing bruises on her thin forearm.

“Sure you will. And I’ll chop people’s heads off with a big and gruesome axe just like that.” He snapped his dirty fingers.

“Sissel, go be useless somewhere else!” Her father scolded harshly.

The girl squeaked and ran towards the inn. Erik noticed that aside from slowly growing misery, she was also scared. Her father was a cold, cruel man, even towards his own daughters. He glanced at Lemkil but said nothing. At times like these he was thankful that his own father, though overprotective, was kind to him and those girls when Lemkil wasn’t looking.

“Hey, you alright?” Aza noticed his absent gaze.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just remembered something.” He brushed her off.

“You know, we’ll be passing near Rorikstead, so if you want…”

“No, not yet.” He declined quietly. He missed home, but he was still happy to be ‘out there’.

---

“Bards were supposed to do this!?” Erik gasped, shaking off pieces of bone and dust. He felt as if they battled an army of draugr. He wasn’t mistaken.

“Well, we got what we came for.” Aza patted the verse, safely stored in her satchel. “If we leave now, we should be in Solitude in no time.”

“I always wanted to go to Solitude.” Erik recalled, kicking the skull of treacherous King Olaf, still gloving an unsettling blue light out of the eyesockets.

---

They arrived to the capital of Haafingar at the break of dawn.

“Wow…” He could only shutter, marveling at the beauty of Solitude. This was the most stunning city he had ever seen. So much space and people, so many goods and services. Solitude felt like the center of the world!

“Erik, pull yourself together!” Aza scolded, though she was laughing. “You want everyone to know you’re a provincial?”

“There’s so many people here, that I don’t think anyone would notice!” He said, amazed of the variety of people around him. He saw all races of Man and Mer mixing into a colorful current of pedestrians, merchants, guards and people of various backgrounds and professions.

“As much as I love seeing you with that awestruck look on your face, we have to get moving. Why don’t you take this” she handed him the satchel with the verse, “and go see Viarmo over at the College while I go butter up Tullius? I’ll join you later.”

“You sure?” He expressed his doubt, but took the satchel nonetheless.

“Remind me, who chopped Olaf’s legs off? Because it sure wasn’t me. If we have time to spare, I’ll take you on a night on the town. We earned some fun.” Aza promised.

“Cold booze, hot food and a real bed?” His face lit up at the very prospect of such luxuries.

“Anything you want.” She laughed, heading towards Castle Dour. “Anything…” She muttered to herself, growing more and more impatient. Things were picking up pace fast, and they still hadn’t done it!

---

Convincing Tullius and his lapdog Rikke took more time than she anticipated, but in the end the Imperial captain agreed to come to the meeting. Aza left Castle Dour with a slowly brewing headache. She didn’t hate the Imperials, though their stiff laws and rules drove her mad. It was no wonder the hotheaded Nords rebelled. Besides, Hammerfell succeeded from the Empire a long time ago and it was doing perfectly fine.

Erik wasn’t at the College. One of the students pointed her to the Blue Palace, saying that Viarmo and ‘some young talented adventurer’ went there to read the lost verse to Jarl Elisif. Intrigued, she left the College and went straight to the Palace.

Once inside, she hid behind a column, whilst the High Elf headmaster was reading the verse to the Jarl and her court. Strangely, it wasn’t what she remembered it to be. She noticed Erik in the crowd and slowly motioned towards him.

“What in Oblivion is that rambling?” She whispered into his ear, as Viarmo tried to convince Elisif that Olaf didn’t actually capture the dragon Numinex, but was a dragon himself and could assume the form of a man.

“I improvised.” Erik replied with an idiotic grin. He was having a blast. “I think they like it.”

She looked around. Indeed, the members of the court seemed enthralled by Viarmo’s (or rather Erik’s) interpretation of the Poetic Edda. The Jarl was looking pleased herself. And considering the current political situation, the burning of a false king was very up-to-date.

“Thank you, Viarmo.” Elisif said graciously. “I am overjoyed that the lost… and true version of King Olaf’s Verse had been found and translated by the Bard’s College. Know that tonight we will once again celebrate the festival of Burning King Olaf.”

The crowd was overjoyed and so was the College’s headmaster. Erik was pleased as well, even if his part was omitted. Aza just wanted to get some rest. And some booty.

“There you are!” The High Elf called when he found them in the palace courtyard less than half an hour later. He walked up to Aza and nearly crushed her in a tight embrace. “Why were you hiding this treasure away from me? He’s a storytelling genius!” He let the heroine go and spun to hug Erik as well. “My friends! This is a wonderful day for all of us! The Jarl agreed to uphold the festival and even donated a large sum to the College.”

“Wonderful” Aza muttered, thinking about how that sum could be used in a more practical way than on idle pleasures. But she wasn’t the Jarl, so it wasn’t her problem. Honestly, she’d sooner chew on her own wrists than assume any seat of authority. It wasn’t worth the trouble… and the inevitable assassination attempts.

“Here, here!” The headmaster eagerly handed the young hero a large and heavy coinpurse. “This is your share, you definitely earned it, my silver-tongued friend. Tell me, would you like to stay at the College? I’m sure I could squeeze you into our time schedule.”

“Uh… Thanks, but no. I don’t think you’d find any more use of me.” Erik refused humbly. He wasn’t an artist and he preferred to listen than talk. Plus, he wouldn’t handle over the freedom of being an adventurer for anything, not even for all the silver in Markarth.

“Pity… But you two must come to the festival tonight, I insist! Now, please excuse me, I have so many things to arrange on such short notice!” Viarmo left them excited as a little girl. The College was back in business.

“All those books you’ve read had finally come to some god use, eh?” Aza crossed her arms with an amused smirk.

“Who would have thought, right?” Erik laughed, rubbing the back of his head. He wasn’t used to this much praise and attention. “Are we going to stay? I know we have more important things to do, but I always wanted to see the festival.”

“Sure, why not.” She agreed. “The meeting at High Hrothgar is going to take place in a week from now. And Erik” the look in her eyes suddenly sharpened, she approached him so close, that they almost clashed. “It’s going to be rough. We need to get the dumbass Imperialists and the brainless Stormcloaks to reach a consensus. I think fighting dragons is much easier than dealing with politics. And after that, we need to recruit two people to aid us in something as crazy as summoning and capturing a dragon. I’m going to be blunt, this is more than you bargained for…”

“I’m with you!” He assured with fire.

“… And this is our last week of relatively free time. So, I want us to use it to the fullest. Do you know what I mean?”

“You want us to train and focus?” He guessed.

“No, you clueless whelp!” She screamed, grabbing him by the shoulders and giving a good shake, paying no mind that some proper people might hear them. “We’ve been together for a few months now! Damn it, it’s time! Ask me!” Her good eye was burning, whilst she bit her lip, waiting for his response.

“I…” He couldn’t believe he was so oblivious. Chuckling embarrassed, he held her by the wrists, gently but solidly. “Aza… Would you spend the night with me before we save the world?”

“Yes” she agreed with relief. “I would.”

He let her wrists go, grabbing her hips instead. Her steel armor met with his leather. She tilted her head slightly to the side as he slid his tongue between her full lips. She moaned softly, her mouth hungered for his. After a longer moment they withdrew from one another. Come to think of it, what kept them from doing it right here, right now? No, this was too precious to squander.

“Tonight, after the Burning of King Olaf.” She said promiscuously. “You got some money, so prepare everything. I’ll be waiting after dark. And damn it, if I won’t get you tonight, I’ll burn this whole city to the ground!”

“I can’t wait…!” He shuttered out, his heart felt like a bird caught in a cage that was too small.

Tonight! It was finally going to happen tonight!

Chapter Text

This was going to be a night to remember. Question was; how was it going to be remembered? He nervously glanced at the clock at the top of the Temple of the Divines. It was barely past noon, he still had a lot of time.

Okay, first things first, he should get a room. And not in some shady tavern, no! He weighted the coinpurse, it was more than enough for a suite fit for a thane… Or so he hoped. He should make it nice for her, right? Well, he was the virgin, but that didn’t mean he could be sloppy. What did she like? Money, booze, bladed weapons and… No, no, this was pointless. She liked… Rabbit, ale, pears, good quality cheese of Nord produce and the scent of exotic spices, probably reminding her of her homeland. Okay, so aside from the room and refreshments he should get her…

Wait, scratch that, he should focus on himself now. After all, he was giving himself to her, right? When was the last time he got a decent scrub and a shave? Well, maybe not a clean shave, but he should trim his facial hair… And his ballsack. Then, he should get a hot bath and comb his hair, he could harbor a fugitive in that unkempt mane.

It was still early, so he should first get a room and order everything, then groom himself. He marched towards the center of the metropolis, he recalled an inn that looked promising; the Winking Skeever.

---

Finally! She’s going to fuck him tonight! She’s going to take him for the ride of his damned life! She’s…! Aw, what was wrong with her? Was she that heartless and sex-driven? No, of course not! She could still be truly intimate with someone! And not just anyone, but Erik. Her little Erik, who came a long way from a daydreaming farmboy to a young promising man.

Funny, at first she just wanted to molest the cute ginger from a village she’d probably forget the day after. Guess she had more fun with him than she anticipated. And in time she started to play his mom, then partner. Yeah, he was a good kid… guy. And he was going to be her man tonight. Hope he won’t get nervous and spoil everything for himself. She’ll be nice to him… Unless he does something really stupid.

She reckoned he’d be bright enough to get a room. As for her, she could use some pampering. Well, the scars, blind eye and a terrible attitude were impossible to fix, but she should prepare for him, her bush had recently grown back and was quite the itch. And she could get herself some nice lingerie, not just practical linen undies. Something pretty and frilly, meant to be stared at and then ripped off.

Damn, she felt like a teen again! With a smile that made her look almost beautiful, she ventured towards the market district. She had some gold to spend.

“Oh, a customer…” Taarie, the Altmer proprietor of Radiant Raiment, greeted her with her trademark sour expression.

“Yeah, yeah, I am unworthy to enter your shop. Listen, lady” Aza placed her hands on the counter, leaning forward confidentially. “Tonight I’m going to screw a boy I like. I need something that will make his jaw drop three stores below. Got anything my size?”

“Do you have coin? Because eloquence alone doesn’t impress me… Ma’am.” Taarie’s shrewd eyes were dispassionately eyeballing the customer. The Redguard had a morbid taste in make-up; brick-red eyeshadow and black eyeliner? Please!

“Lady” the Redguard showed her an emerald as green as young grass on the very first days of spring, and as big as a baby’s fist, “this is our lucky day.”

“Indeed” the shop owner agreed politely, her face was a mask of perfect coolness. “Please, step right up. And if you don’t mind me suggesting, I know a good hairdresser and bathhouse.”

---

Corpulus Vinius, the owner and proprietor of the Winking Skeever, knew when to ask questions and when to smile and just nod. He had instinct that was crucial for his trade. When he was approached by a strapping young traveler, he instantly knew the lad was here to do serious business.

“I need a room for a day, maybe a few.” The stranger said, visibly nervous.

Corpulus pondered if he was a fugitive or someone with a shady background. But the man looked nothing like it, even though the axe he was carrying looked as if it seen enough things to give him nightmares.

“I see… Well, I have a cozy quiet room, though it’s near the kitchens…”

“No, I need something nice, with a good bed and a view. It’s… um… It’s for a girl.”

Vinius relaxed. Ah, so this was that kind of a guest, eh? Good, and he looked as if he had the coin to pay.

“Of course, I got something special for you. But I want to see the gold up front… And I see it.” He noted with a whistle, as Erik put the coinpurse on the counter. “Please, let me show you to your room…” He beckoned, heading upstairs, to his best room.

“I think this will do.” The traveler was pleased with the accommodation he was provided.

The bed was big and solid, covered with fresh, soft sheets and decent sized pillows. There was a separate room with a washtub, as Solitude and Markarth were the only cities in Skyrim that had hot and cold running water. The view from the window (with real glass!) was encompassing almost the entire city. The room was large enough for a short stroll. This looked promising.

“Is there anything else you’d need?” Corpulus smiled sincerely. Although he wasn’t given the entire content of the purse, he was paid fairly… and most generously. He was on the verge of giving that sudden patron a big wet kiss.

“Yes. Food, drink, good quality candles…” The man paused searching his memory.

“Mayhap I could recommend you a good barber?” Corpulus’ face was the picture of delight.

---

“OUCH! Missy, I intend to use this tonight!” Aza screamed as the young Breton girl tore off a piece of material with her dark hairs attached to it. She considered waxing more efficient than shaving, though painful as Oblivion.

“I could give it a kiss if you’d like.” The girl joked, reaching for a jar of hot wax.

“Sorry, my dove. I’m set up on a date tonight.” She declined, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.

“Is she nice?” The girl was apparently the talkative one. It never failed to amaze the Redguard how people who made a living off tending other’s bodies liked to their customers in conversation.

“It’s a guy. He’s… nice.” She agreed. “Sometimes stupid and stubborn, but trustworthy. And fun to have around.”

“That’s something. Stripe or completely bald?” She inquired, gently soothing Aza’s irritated skin with an oiled cloth. Too gently, but the Redguard didn’t protest.

Aza stared down at her crotch. The strip was a nice touch, but she wanted to fully feel his skin sliding against hers. She trembled a bit, imagining him working her pussy with that thick, veined, beautifully shaped…

“Give me the full service, love. And then let’s try to do something about my eyebrows.” She ordered.

“But first, ma’am” the Breton smiled disturbingly cheerfully, “I’m going to ask you to bend over for me. We’re going to have your ass-crack waxed as well.”

“Booze!” the Redguard shouted towards the passing by serving girl. She experienced various kinds and levels of pain, but having her most sensitive regions waxed was something she couldn’t endure sober.

---

“Is she nice?” The barber inquired, struggling with Erik’s full grown beard.

“No, not really.” He replied truthfully, trying not to move. He already had one scar. “She has a temper.”

“I see…” the man with the shears was a bit confused. “Well, she must be pretty then.”

“I’m not sure.” Erik took a moment to think about it. “Well, she’s not ugly, but a bit… scarred. Actually, she has them all over.”

“Oh…” the barber had many strange customers and this one seemed to be one of them. “Well then, she must have…” Actually, he had no ideas what to think about his patron’s lady-friend.

“She always has my back and makes sure I won’t get into trouble.” Erik said and suddenly laughed, thankfully the shears retreated in time. “And she has the finest rack and rear in all of Tamriel!”

“Ah! A fine woman, then!” The barber laughed. No, this customer was as normal as one could be.

---

The sun had set. The crowd had already gathered at the courtyard behind the Bard’s College. He was resting at the stone steps, away from the crowd, trying not to look as if he was impatiently waiting for someone. Viarmo, dressed in his best clothing and holding a beaming torch, approached the straw dummy of King Olaf.

“Hey” she sat next to him, minding her armor. She had it polished, just like he had his thoroughly cleaned.

“Hi, want some?” He asked, offering her a meat pie he bought earlier, still hot.

“Thanks, here “She offered him spiced wine in return. “Is that… mint?” She asked, bringing herself closer to smell his breath.

“Why so surprised? I’m not a savage, you know.” He said with his mouth full.

She laughed quietly, brushing the crumbs off his lap. Her hand remained there, as she took a bite and washed it down with some wine. The atmosphere was festive, people were encouraging the College’s headmaster to finally start the festival.

“Welcome people of Solitude! We at the Bard’s College are pleased to be here to celebrate the Burning of King Olaf. The festival would not have been possible without the dedication and hard work of two brave people, who are now our honorary applicants.” Viarmo paused to let the crowd applaud the two brave heroes. The couple in question was happy to be safely hidden in the crowd. “With the lighting of the effigy…” He approached the dummy…

“Let’s get out of here!” She suddenly whispered into his ear. Her hand squeezed his lap, then slid a bit up.

“Let’s.” He agreed, pulling her up. “I got a room at the Skeever.”

“That doesn’t sound too romantic.” She hesitated as they were on their way.

“It’s just a name. And since when are you into romance?”

“I can punch you in the face if you’d like.” She offered generously.

“I think I’ll pass.”

He suddenly noticed he was walking with his hand on her ass. She didn’t protest and seemed pleased with his forwardness. They walked towards the inn, chatting about some nonsense, completely forgetting about the world around them. He hadn’t even noticed when they entered the building.

“Oh, no, no!” Aza halted as he was about to climb the stairs to their room. “A drink and some sweet talk first!” She insisted, heading towards the dining area where she took a seat at an unoccupied table. He’s going to have to seduce her. Well, at least give it a try.

“Tease!” He sighed, though her teasing was not unpleasant. He waited for so long, he could wait a bit longer. Stressing out the ‘bit’ part. Growing excited with each passing second, he headed to the bar for some refreshments.

“So… do you come here often?” She asked with a wink when he came with their drinks; dulled up ale, he wanted his senses sharp and aware.

“What?” He blinked, joining her at the table.

“Nothing, just an overused pick-up line.” She drank.

Erik noticed she had glass beads in her hair again, just like when they met. She’s going to lose all of them before the month ends. She was looking nice, clean and fresh. And so relaxed, he hadn’t seen her this comfortable in weeks.

“When did you get that?” Aza asked, noticing a fresh scar on his face; a small crescent-shaped cut under his right eye, closer to the cheekbone.

“This? I have no idea.” He said, rubbing it unintentionally.

“Don’t touch it!” She reprimanded.

“Thanks, mom.” He muttered, sticking out his tongue.

“You know, that’s not what I’d want you to scream tonight. Is there some eats around here?” She turned over to the bar.

“I got pretty much everything you like upstairs.” He tempted, drinking his ale.

“And a puppy?” She inquired, raising her brow.

“Should have told me earlier and I’d even get you a pony with gilded hooves.”

She laughed, spilling the rest of her drink. The mood was good.

“That’s what I like about you, Erik. You always say something that makes me laugh.”

“Depends if you’re laughing with me or at me.”

“Well look who grew a spine! Or did the College rub off on you?”

“Aza… let’s go. I really want it to be you…” He confessed, his hand slid across the table and met with hers.

“I love how sweet you remained, despite all the messed up stuff we’ve been though…” She purred softly. Under the table, her leg brushed against his.

“I mean it. I can’t picture anyone but you being my first.” He took a deeper breath. “And I know how naive this sounds, but it’s the truth. I know you don’t want to hear this whiny nonsense…”

“I do. Tell me stupid things, bullshit me with all that sweet gibberish. Even I like to be courted. But, Erik” she slightly frowned. “Don’t go overboard, okay? Don’t make any promises. I don’t expect you to make any obligations.”

“Why not? Are you going to say something like ‘I have a past and can’t love you back?’ ” He scoffed.

“I’m not heartless, jackass.” She kicked him, but it wasn’t hard. “But whatever you might think, you’re still young and inexperienced. I want you to enjoy life. I don’t want to hold you back. I’m not saying no, but not right now. Live a bit first.”

“I think we’re drifting a bit from the subject here.” He took her cup out of her hands. “We’ll get back to that sometime later. But now, I think we had enough heart-to-heart. Come on.”

“Lead the way.”

---

“Damn…” She whispered the moment the door closed behind her and the staple slid into place. The room was fit for a minor noble, he really outdid himself! Quickly, she approached the bed and sat on the luxuriously soft mattress. She hopped a few times, testing its firmness.

“Is it to your liking?” He asked, walking over, trying not to sound nervous.

“Yesss… this will do nicely.” She took her gauntlets off and carelessly threw them on the nearby dresser. “We’re going to thoroughly abuse this bed, I promise.”

She had a plan; to be patient and to guide him. He had a plan as well; to be cool and natural. Both plans went through the window. Roughly, he pressed against the mattress with his bulk. She didn’t protest, her leg slid up all the way to his hip as she held him tight. Their teeth clashed when they tried to kiss, she laughed.

“Let’s slow down before someone gets hurt.” She instructed, working the straps and fastenings of his armored jacket. As it loosened, he impatiently struggled out of it and threw behind, his gloves followed.

“Don’t do it yourself, let me” Erik pleaded, pulling himself away. He cursed her choice of armor, it was a pain to finally free her from the steel chestplate and greaves. The boots, his pants and clothes they wore underneath their armors were gone in seconds.

“Like what you see?” She asked flirty, when he saw her lingerie; a set of fine light beige lace with a golden trim. Her bra was strapless, kept in place with a solid gilded ring on the center of her cleavage. The panties were low cut, there was only a thin strip going through her behind.

“You’re just… just… Ah, come here!” He pulled her onto his laps, sitting on the edge of the bed.

He felt her teeth on his lower lip, his hands were wandering up and down her back and ass. She oiled her skin, her smell was mixing with the exotic oils. Eagerly, he rolled the bra up, freeing her breasts. He loved their touch, taste and warmth, he could play with them for hours.

“Mind your teeth…” she instructed patiently, letting him nibble on her nipples and the soft, smooth flesh around them. Gods, he was into boobs.

Slowly, he bent back resting on the firm mattress. He reached down her ribcage, then her waist and stopped on her hips. Her thongs were annoying him.

“Hey, can I…?” He pleaded warily.

“Sure, bought ‘em for thins night only.”

“Great!” He slid his thumbs under both sides and pulled sharply. The material ripped, uncovering her slit. Meanwhile, she reached under her groin and undid his undergarments the more traditional way.

She sat on his slowly hardening member, the silky foreskin sent a burning sensation up her underbelly when it brushed against her pussy. She marveled how he changed during those few months. Erik was never delicate, but he lost some weight and gained a bit muscle. And when did he get more hairs? He wasn’t excessively hairy, but his chest and belly weren’t that rich in hair when she saw him naked for the first time in his father’s shed. He wasn’t a boy anymore.

“No rush?” He asked, relaxing. He was eager, though didn’t want to ruin everything.

“No, we got time. The world will have to learn some patience.”

“World, what world?” He joked.

He rolled on the bed to his side, she followed. He teased her ear and neck, stroking her hip; he could feel a scar under his palm. Strangely, they made her more appalling. Though blemishing, they were mementos of her history of enduring and surviving.

“How about I show you one fun position?” She offered, stroking his stomach. She felt her womb slowly swelling and moistening. She could probably have him now, but she knew she’d regret her impatience later. And really hurt herself.

“What do you need me to do?”

“Lie down on your back, spread your legs a bit.” She instructed, turning to face the foot of the bed. She slid above him, so that they could both pleasure the other orally at the same time.

“Love it already!” He expressed, spreading her pussy with his thumbs. The puce flesh was already glimmering. He gave it one cautious lick. The taste was just as he remembered; mind-blowing.

“The Imperials call it the ‘Victor and Victoria’, but Redguards just call it the ‘69’.” She explained, gently caressing his scrotum. She noticed a few cuts on his skin, he must have been trimming his hairs in a hurry. Tsk, tsk, impatient youth.

She suddenly gasped, as he stuck his tongue inside her without warning. It felt numbingly rough and squirmy inside her. Without hesitation, she reached for his halfway-erect cock. Gods, it was a beautiful thing! The size and proportion of the glans was ideal: its pointed shape perfect for inserting such a thick and veined shaft. She licked it with delight, tasting his foreskin and savoring the smell of his body, almost dripping with pheromones and youthful lust. With little effort, she stuffed her mouth with it, all the way to the tonsils and beyond. Deep-throating Erik was pure pleasure.

She squirmed above him as he worked his tongue, loosening her up. He slid two fingers inside, focusing on the clitoris. The little hard bump was twitching under his tongue; she loved it. Her ass moved from side to side, as his fingers teased the wet walls of her pussy. He was amazed how powerfully she could squeeze. He moved his hips up and down a bit, hearing a muffled gag. She didn’t hit him in return, so it wasn’t that bad. He bit her cheek, observing her behind pushing against his fingers on its own. Her rhythmical moves were mesmerizing.

“I can’t wait any longer!” She called, pulling his cock out of her mouth. It was now fully erect and ready for action. Her voice was strained from the waiting. Enough foreplay, she wanted him inside!

“Lie down, then.” He agreed. He never expected her to be less patient than himself.

She obeyed, her breasts bounced as her back hit against the mattress. She spread her legs, knees bend and toes curled up. Stroking her clit and nipple, she gazed at him impatiently. So, this was how a woman was looking at you when she wanted you.

“Oh, come on!” She urged. “What do you want me to do? Beg? Fine! Just come over here!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming” he assured, getting on top of her. He supported himself on one outstretched arm, grabbing his member with the other, trying not to rush. Oh, but he wanted this ever since he learned how fun it was to touch himself and that girls had different parts than boys.

Aza was observing him through half-shut eyes. She felt a tingling when his tip encircled her opening. Her juices leaked out, she saw no point in holding them back. She wanted to be as wet for him as possible.

“Stop teasing!” She begged, forgetting about all her pride. Gods, this was pure torture!

“I’m not teasing. I want to remember this moment right.” He explained quietly. This was it. “Alright” he said, slowly pushing inside. He felt the heat and wetness of her body, as the trembling walls were spreading under his cap.

She relaxed, though it wasn’t easy with all the excitement she felt. His penis was even thicker than she anticipated. The glans entered with no difficulty - the shaft followed, almost making her cry. She felt his veins and the sides of his cap rubbing her vagina, coating with her dews.

He sighed, entering her to the limits. It felt amazing, as if his body and hers somehow melted, merged together. She didn’t move, leaving it up to him to explore her and try out what he should do.

“Is this okay?” He asked unsure, when he met with resistance; he couldn’t push an inch further.

“Yes!” She grunted, her thighs squeezed his hips almost painfully. “OW!” She screamed, when he risked and retreated a few inches, then rammed his cock inside too fast and with too much force.

“Sorry!” He apologized, pulling out. Well, he did it, he ruined everything.

“You’re making love to me, dumbass, not storming a burning fortress!” She scolded, slapping his ass. “Get back here!” She ordered, seeing his expression. Whelp.

“Do it again” he asked, entering the Redguard once more. He felt stupid, but by her reaction he knew he didn’t hurt her as badly as he feared.

“Call you a dumbass?” She inquired, sinking her nails into his rock-hard rear.

“Slap my ass.” He pleaded through clenched teeth.

She spanked him hard, as he worked his cock inside her. He was moving unhurriedly, weary of any signs of her discomfort. He wasn’t sure if she liked it or not, but he tried his best.

She wasn’t mad at him, after all it was his first time. He also had no idea of his size. And he was trying so hard. She reached up, and as she promised in Dawnstar, she scratched his back, feeling his muscles working under his light skin. He pumped her too gently for her taste, but she wanted him to learn her shape and limits. He was peering into her eyes, breathing slow and deeply. He was so focused, that it was a bit funny.

“I’m okay” she muttered, closing her eyes. “Try a bit harder and faster.”

He wanted to say something similar to ‘Are you sure?’, but he bit his tongue. He was a man, he had to act like one! He increased the pace, her pussy released more wetness and moist noises. Aza moaned, the soles of her feet slid up and down his calves. She moaned louder, as he jammed his cock even harder, it seemed she was warmed up enough to enjoy it rougher.

He was so focused on her that he almost forgot about himself. And he felt great! How a woman’s body felt like and how it reacted to his exceeded his wildest dreams. And he had some wild (and wet) dreams back home. He couldn’t believe he was responsible for making her so sopping and hot.

“Oh fuck, Erik…” She murmured, feeling heat from the friction and tempo. He was inexperienced but enthusiastic, as with everything he was new to.

“What?” He asked, trying not to moan. But wasn’t silent either, his grunting made her spine tingle. Divines, she was making a man out of him!

“Harder. Oh, Gods, just like that!” She panted when he tried a different angle. “How does it feel? Tell me!” She pleaded.

“It’ s amazing” he realized she wanted details. “You’re incredibly hot and wet, so damned slippery. And you’re squeezing me so tight.”

“Like this?” She teased, squeezing him even tighter. He grunted, applying more force; he had to struggle to keep thrusting as smoothly as he did. Her resistance made him feel even more pleasure. “I want you to come inside me tonight.”

“Are you sure?” He wanted it badly, but he feared the consequences. But by the Nine, filling her up with his seed and knowing a part of him would still be inside her, even after they were long done…

“I got the potion. Now, fuck me Slayer! I want you to make me sore in the morning!”

With a roguish grin, Erik changed the position; he straightened his back, grabbing her by the hips and pulling up. Her fine ass bounced against his laps, her feet rested on his shoulders. He bit her ankle pumping harder, not giving a damn about safety anymore.

He was a bit rowdy, but he should have his fun. She crossed her feet behind his head, grabbing him by the knees, sinking her nails almost painfully into his skin. Her breasts bounced up and down, giving into his rhythm. Her insides were burning pleasingly. She wanted him madly.

“Erik…” She cried out fighting for air, she was starting to lose control of her body.

“Yeah?” He asked bending forward, their dewed foreheads met.

“If you plan on coming soon, now is the best time. Because I can’t hold back for much…” she gasped. No, no, no, not yet!

“How about now?” He grunted, feeling he was about to come too.

“Now!” She screamed, wrapping her arms around him. She scratched him badly, feeling her pussy convulse and explode in heat that reached all the way up to her abdomen. She felt him cum as well, filling her up with streams of thick rich semen.

He let his mind slip away, as he came inside a woman for the first time, flooding her womb with his sperm. And Gods, her wail! It sounded as if she was dying… and enjoyed it.

She was suddenly numb, only her pussy was slowly ceasing to rhythmically pulse, swallowing what it still could of his cum. Erik collapsed, smothering her with his bulk, she was too worn-out to push him off. The room was filled with exhausted panting of the two, the air was stuffed with the smell of sweat and adrenaline.

His mind was slowly clearing. Lazily, he bit her ear, then licked her neck. Her feet slipped off his shoulders only to feebly slide apart on the mattress. He wanted to pull out, but she suddenly regained some of her vigor; her legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him firmly in place.

“Where do you think you’re going, hm?” She muttered exhausted. Her hands possessively sunk into his hair.

“To get you a cold drink.” He gasped out. He needed one too.

She gave him a quick kiss, then released. Her juices and his seed spurted out onto the sheets, it was a beautiful sight. He got her a bottle and one for himself. She took her damp and wrinkled bra off and dried her chest with it, then reached for the refreshment. As she opened her drink, he lied next to her, staring mindlessly into the distance. His head felt light, filled with thoughtless glee.

Aza drank, relieved to feel something cold inside her for a change. So, her Erik was finally a man. She should say something now, something that will make him feel good about himself.

“Hey…” Hearing the sound of her voice he turned his face to her, hair was sticking to his cheek. “I’ll never forget this.”

“Neither will I.” He replied, stroking her belly. He never saw her so… blissful. It was a sight to remember.

She finished her drink and shifted closer, lying on her side and resting her head on his chest. She sighed, unable to describe what she was feeling. She didn’t bother with cleaning herself up, she felt too good. And too happy to give a fuck.

He rested his cheek on her forehead, caressing her side. The entire world might as well crumble and fall apart at this point. His entire cosmos was now reduced to this room and this moment.

“You’re awfully quiet…” She whispered, her throat was worn out.

“I feel too good to spoil it with talking” he simply replied to which she laughed.

“We should get some rest…” she purred, stroking his chest. The only thing she wanted now was to fall asleep.

“We leave at dawn?” He guessed with hesitation.

“Nope.” She held him tighter. “I did the math: we have two more days to spare before we’ll have to be on our way. And” she gently stroked his now slumbering dick. “I’ll show you all that I know by then.”

“I’ll tell the innkeep in the morning.” He muttered, feeling his eyelids like heavy iron curtains.

“Tell him to get some snacks up here.”

---

In the morning, she woke him up with a surprise blowjob, then mounted him and rode like an amazon. He laid back, playing with her tits until she came. She didn’t pause, though. Instead, she finished him off, swallowing his load to the very last drop. This was a good way to start the day.

Afterwards, he got dressed and sluggishly head down, smiling like an idiot. He didn’t care, he was carelessly happy and nothing else mattered. He paid for two more days and got food and drink, but his mind was elsewhere.

“Good, you’re back!” she welcomed him and the platter with breakfast. “Get naked.” She said, stuffing her mouth with bread and ham. She needed all her energy for today.

“You know, it would be incredibly ironic if you’d choke now” he said, sitting next to her, naked just like she told him.

She laughed, spraying crumbs all around. In the daylight her skin had a healthy radiant glow. She seldom looked happy, he was pleased to know he made her that way.

“Eat. You need your strength.” She said, pushing the platter towards him.

“Yeah, strength… Ugh, I feel like I pulled a muscle.” Erik rubbed the small of his back.

“I’ll give you a nice massage” Aza promised, reaching for a tasty looking piece of cheese. “And afterwards I want to show you why is one of my favorite positions called ‘doggystyle’. ”

---

He was an eager student. And he caught up quickly. The day was spent on simple, carefree sex. In the evening, they decided go out on the town. Late at night, they came back to their room after lollygagging for hours, though neither remembered what they were actually doing that whole time. They fell asleep almost instantly.

The second day was for relaxation and lazy fucking, nothing rushed or excessively vigorous.

“Seriously, you’re a hopeless case” She sighed as he rested his head on her cleavage. Her stomach was showered with his sperm.

“I can’t help it. I love how they feel.” He replied truthfully. “Would you mind if we just… lay like this?”

“No, not at all.”

“It’s… nice.”

“Yeah. Makes me feel at least ten years younger” she said without thinking. She regretted it the very next second. This wasn’t time for retrospective bullshit. The past was too complicated to bother, the future uncertain. The present was all she wanted.

“I’m happy to hear that.” Erik confessed. “What will we do when we get the job done? Sorry! I forgot you don’t want to talk about it!” He scolded himself.

“Nah, I could only expect you to say something stupid.” She looked him in the eyes, wrapping his hair around her finger. “When we’ll be done with playing big damned heroes, we’ll dust ourselves off and go on another glorious adventure, Erik. We’ll have a ton of adventures, you and I. And all the fame and glory you can eat.”

“I’ll hold your word for it.”

---

“Hey, get up. Come on! Saving the world, remember?” She shook his shoulder. It was time to go.

“Screw the world.” He muttered, reaching for the leftover ale, knocking a half-eaten apple off the nightstand.

“My thoughts exactly, but it seems it desperately needs our help. Well, mine, but you’re too deep in this to give up now, am I right?”

“As always. Okay, I’m up.” He yawned, stretching his back. He then adjusted his neck with a crack. Aza shrugged hearing the sound of his vertebras jumping into place.

“Yeah. It’s about time we left. The sheets are starting to smell.” She said, taking a deep whiff. She loved the smell of sex in the morning… Actually, she loved that distinct aroma every time of the day and night, but they were already running late.

---

Playtime was over. They had to fully commit themselves to their mission now. But just as they entered the stables, Aza put her hand on his shoulder. Erik reacted instinctively; they shared one last kiss, before putting all tender and blissful nonsense aside.

“You have no idea how… okay I felt during those few days.” She confessed, before turning to her paint mare, saddling her for the long trip to High Hrothgar.

“I could say the same thing.” Erik said, brushing her side. “Thanks for everything.” He added, approaching his horse.

There was no need for more pretty, meaningless words. He knew, she knew - things between them were solid.

Aza was happy he could separate their intimate and everyday relations. She saw no point in denying it; she liked him. Love was a strong and completely overrated word - she trusted him and if he’d suddenly drop dead she’d be left with a huge gap in her gut. He wasn’t her first partner, but by far he was the one that lasted the longest and with whom she was through the most. That was more than enough.

Erik was optimistic, although he was aware of the dangers that the future held. Regardless, he happily carried on. He finally had all that he ever dreamed of: freedom, adventure, a loyal partner and a blooming sex-life…

“Hey!” He suddenly realized something as they passed Dragon Bridge.

“What?” Aza asked, brutally snapped out of her thoughts. She was going through the possible scenarios of the meeting of all the power players in Skyrim.

“We didn’t cover anal!” He nagged. What a pity, he found her juicy pussy and mouth amazing, but her backdoor remained a mystery.

“Tell you what, you’ve been a true delight these past days, so I won’t ram my horse into yours. And if we defeat Alduin and survive enough to bask in our triumph, I’ll let you do my ass however you like. Deal?”

“Deal!”

“Great. Now, be quiet and let me do some thinking. We got a peace treaty to secure.”

Chapter Text

“Would you stop waggling your dicks? No one’s impressed!” Aza slammed her fist on the table in frustration.

The sound hollowed across the stone chamber. General Tullius and Jarl Ulfric reluctantly sat back in their chairs. Death threats and promises of revenge (or justice) would have to wait. Thankfully, the head Thalmor was immediately told to leave when the two heroes entered the monastery. Aza had no interest in politics, but those High Elf assholes earned her pure, affectionate hate. Supreme-bred Mer, what bullshit! The Blades were present as well, and surprisingly Esbern helped pacify the first outburst between the interested parties with an impassioned speech.

The heroine exhaled loudly, sinking back into her chair. No one knew who was the man sitting by her side, but as she was the Dragonborn, he was bound to be someone important. The scar on his cheek and neck looked lethal, though his face was bright and alert. He didn’t flinch when the heroine snapped, tired of the fiery exchange between Ulfric and Tullius. Truth be told, Erik was bored to tears. But he was sitting obediently at her side, trying not to give away that he was a peasant amongst lords.

“How about this…” the Redguard sighed deeply, her head was pulsing with numbing pain. “Markarth in exchange for Riften? Silver for honey? Anyone? Because the dragon won’t be waiting forever, you know? And who knows what it will do once it gets tired of waiting…”

The Jarl of Windhelm and Imperial General eyed each other gravely, then slowly nodded.

---

The heavy monastery doors slammed behind them with a deafening sound. Aza took a deep breath of the crisp mountain air.

“I could let my ass be used and abused by a band of savage tribals for as long as they’d like, if it meant that I wouldn’t have to deal with politics anymore.” She declared, shaking her head. As Erik predicted, most of her beads were already gone.

“Don’t joke about things like that!” He frowned. They didn’t swear anything to each other. But still, he didn’t want to think about anyone else touching her. “So, with the temporarily peace secured, we can focus on finding those two friends of yours?”

“Yeah. It will take more than just the two of us to capture a dragon. And” she weighted the scroll she received from Esbern, containing the name of the dragon they were to summon. It was a nice touch, but the answer to the Paarthurnax issue was still no. “This will come in handy.”

---

A courier was waiting for them down in Ivarstead. His travel clothes and horse suggested he was carrying an important message. He presented Aza with a letter with a fancy-looking seal and was on his way the next second.

“Who is it from?” Erik was curious.

“The Jarl of Morthal…” Aza replied puzzled. “She writes that she dreamed of us, claims to have helpful advice… She recommends searching for a ‘crimson-eyed beauty’ in the Reach.”

“The Jarl claimed to be a seer…”

“The area is infested with those crazy Forsworn. Well, let’s get a move on. First, the Amazon, then the Priest.”

---

Jenassa rested her back against a juniper tree, her trusty bow was at her side. She was running low on arrows, but she had a short sword with her. She was exhausted, almost on the verge of passing out. Oh, how did she regret this contract! Chewing on a dry, bland apple, she recollected her recent actions.

Whiterun was a nice, cozy place to stay, but as Elrindir grew more and more insistent, she was forced to explain to him she had no intention of bedding his squab ass. With her fists. She then left the Drunken Huntsman, taking a fine elven bow as reparation for her wounded pride.

She hiked west, with no fixed plan or destination. On her way she stole a nice chestnut gelding from a bandit sleeping off a drunken stupor. The fool hadn’t realized he was robbed of his mount until he woke up the next day.

She ended up in Markarth. The spectacular city was always blooming with work for a mercenary of her caliber. As expected, the Jarl had trouble with the Forsworn. The damned savages roamed the land, leaving nothing but destruction behind. They sacked merchant caravans, raided mines and villages, murdered travelers and left the bodies on the roads with boldness like never before. As he had no guards to spare (and there were already rumors about appointing a new Jarl), he resulted to hiring mercenaries in order to resolve the issue, even though he had no love for sellswords.

Jenassa entered Understone Keep in the most convenient time. She was sent to a major Forsworn camp called Lost Valley Redoubt, along with a number of other soldiers of fortune. Three days later, she was the sole survivor, trapped at the top of a steep hill with the remaining Forsworn waiting patiently for her to grow desperate and attempt to fight her way out.

Well, it was a good life. A bit uncertain at times, but free and independent, just as she intended it to be. She had no regrets.

She walked up the edge of a stone platform overlooking the camp below. According to legend, she was standing where a bard jumped off centuries ago. Though, the outcome of said jump was unknown. Water poured down from both sides of the platform, falling into a large stone pool several feet below with a thundering sound. The water in the pool was vibrant red with blood and insides of both factions. The remaining tribals were going on about their daily routine, every once in a while glancing at her post. They had time… and food.

She threw the apple core, aiming at one of the Briarhearts. She missed, instead hitting an alchemy lab he was working on. A small explosion and smoke followed. Pleased by this minor victory, she retreated to her temporary camp. She cleared it off the bodies of two Hagravens, the Forsworn and shreds of animal sacrifices which she then unceremoniously threw over the cliff, along with totems and fetishes the savages kept. She then gathered any furs, scarce food and potions she could find. Water was not an issue, as a clear mountain stream ran through her outpost. Ignoring the savage tribals and traces of their foul magic, this was a quite pleasant place.

The elf went through her supplies, retrieving a bottle of cheap wine. She drank with relief, before deciding to risk and walk down a few stone steps to check if she was safe. The midday sun shone in her armor; a fine set of elven work, though her boots and gauntlets were glass. She spat on the ground, knowing that some damned primitive will pry it off her and wear with pride as a trophy.

The coast was clear, although… One of her comrades’ bodies seemed to move? She slid the bottle into her satchel and cautiously snuck up to it.

“I could use some of that wine” she heard a weak voice. She recalled the man was named Vorstag, another carefree merc who got more than he’d bargain for.

“A healing potion would do you more good.” She quietly said, turning him over, as he was lying on his side at the bottom of the first set of stairs. Thankfully, they were still too far from their foes to be concerned. Vorstag let her haul him to the top of the hill, leaving behind a trail of dark blood. The unpleasant smell he gave away suggested he was hit around the lower abdomen. Pity, she needed all the advantage she could get, and it was easier to survive together than alone.

Back at the tent she rested his back against a bundle of furs and got the potion. The hireling sighed deeply, the sun blinded him. He was done for. Yet, she risked and poured half of the healing potion into his mouth. He coughed, but managed to swallow some without spilling much over himself. But it was no use, the bright red potion almost immediately oozed out of the deep cut he had on his side. It was too late for him, they both knew it.

“And I thought I’d pay off my gambling debts with this job” he laughed, falling into a spastic cough. His chin and neck were covered in sticky blood.

“I could ease your pain” the Dunmer offered, wiping some off his face. He had a purple smear on his cheek; the remains of his war paint. She was actually considering bedding him at the beginning of their mission as he looked clean and healthy. Too late now.

“It won’t take long” he assured calmly. “Though about that wine…”

She took one last chug herself and pressed the bottle against his lips. He drank slow, savoring his last drink. It was a pointless, but comforting courtesy on her part.

“Do you need anything else?” Jenassa inquired.

“Well, since you ask…” he tried to act suave. “My time has come, lassie…”

“You call me that one more time and I’ll finish you off.”

“Ha!” The mercenary was facing death with cheer. “Well, most honored lady, I have no illusions. I’m going to die here, in less than an hour or so. I can almost hear the Choosers of the Slain soaring up, waiting to claim my soul.”

“You talk too much for a dying man.”

“Death won’t shut me up.” He said confidently. However, he took much longer to form words. “You know, they say the Choosers sometimes give the fallen one last handjob before they take them to Sovngarde …” he winked. His eye stayed closed for a longer while.

“If you want me to jerk you off, all you need to do is ask.”

“But what of the courting?” Vorstag nonchalantly spat blood on the ground.

“You’re dying, yet you’re still in the mood to play games?” Jenassa raised her brow.

“As if death in honorable battle was a bad thing. Now, could I have my last rites?”

The elf brushed his hair off his face, the light brown strands were drenched in sweat. The Nord relaxed, trying to ignore his bleeding side. He was as calm as someone positive of their rightful place in Sovngarde.

Undoing the straps and buckles of his armor was too troublesome in gauntlets. She took them off, seconds later she felt his thick but soft foreskin under her palms. It took a longer while to get him half-erect, the blood loss was too great. Yet, she patiently massaged his shaft with both hands. Some blood leaked onto his groin.

“I guess a blowjob would be too much to ask?” He joked. Or perhaps not?

“Be grateful for what you have.” She shot him down without a blink.

“Could I at least feel you up a bit?” The hireling pleaded. Having nothing to lose, he could afford to be blunt.

“Only because you won’t be able to tell anyone…” She agreed graciously.

Elven armor was surprisingly easy to slip out of for someone who knew its every plate and ornament. She kept her glass boots on.

“So, this is what it takes to make you strip for me?” He asked, running his hand along the side of her neck and shoulder. Though sweaty, his hand was unnaturally cold. Time was running out. “It was worth to get stabbed, then.” His voice was barely audible.

Jenassa let his hands wander her neck and chest, enjoying the coolness of the highland wind and warmth of the sun. Luckily, though his palms were covered in blood, it had time to dry. Little russet flakes set on her grayish-blue skin. Touching an elven woman was suffice to make him hard. He breathed with his mouth, ignoring little red streams lazily dripping from the corners of his mouth.

She regretted the circumstances she found herself in. She’d love to feel him inside, ride him and let him mount her. She needed both hands to work his cock. She saw and had bigger, but was curious how he’d use it on her. Sadly, she’d never find out.

“Just a bit longer…” Vorstag exhaled a shallow breath, observing her through half-shut eyes, although his hazel sight went somewhere beyond. She had no idea whether it gazed into the Nord underworld or back to some pleasant memory. It didn’t matter. “Now, look at me!” He pinched her nipple painfully hard as he managed to come with much effort. A plentiful, but weak stream lazily oozed from his cock, down the whole shaft and sunk into his pubis, mixing with the blood. The elf kept stroking in the same intense rhythm, helping him get his entire load out.

Vorstag’s eyes were set on her, the look in them thoughtless, but pleased. His irises were unnaturally large. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but his lips didn’t move. He wasn’t there anymore.

Jenassa let go of his cock, it laid its head on the hairs covered in sperm and blood. She licked her fingers; the taste was good, he was indeed healthy and strong. What a pity. She still had time to do something with the body before it completely stiffens. She didn’t want it around, but didn’t intend to dump it into the pool below either. Such disrespect of the dead wasn’t her style.

She wiped him from the fluids, then put him back in his armor. She got dressed as well, a chill went down her spine. She used a few free furs and linen sheets to completely wrap him up, and on a large pelt of a deer she pulled him down the steps, back to where she found him. She wasn’t religious, but spent a moment near the body, whispering words of comfort. She didn’t look over her shoulder as she went back to her camp.

Although it was early in the afternoon, she decided to take a short nap. She needed to stay alert, the Forsworn were bound to strike at dawn or in the night. And she’ll be waiting for them. After her nap, she could show herself a bit of affection. Although Jenassa never burdened herself with any romantic nonsense, she could use someone’s company. This one last time.

“Such fatalism!” She whispered dramatically, crawling into the tent. She rested her head on a rolled fur and with the glass blade at her side, slipped into uneasy sleep.

She woke up late in the afternoon at the sound of turmoil. But it wasn’t the Forsworn attacking. It was the Forsworn being attacked. She cautiously crept up to the edge of the fall. The sounds of battle moved up the stone steps, towards her camp. Not allowing herself to lose focus to numbing hope, the Dunmer retreated from the observation spot and hid behind the stone altar. With an arrow readied, she waited. Apparently, the odds have changed.

---

“I’ve heard they let Hagravens replace their hearts with hexed briars, but actually seeing one…” Erik kicked the slain Briarheart’s corpse off their path.

“Sick, I know. And the smell!” Aza wiped her blades on the Forsworn witch’s armor. What was the point of wearing such scantly armor in the first place? Were they hoping to confuse their enemies with their bodies? She used to wear skimpy armor herself, but those few pelts and straps offered no protection!

The tribal forces were already thinned before they got to Lost Valley Redoubt. Among the fallen were also mercenaries. Thankfully, there was no body of a Dark Elf female amongst them. They pushed through the main camp and moved up to the stone steps.

The path was decorated with red splatters, now dry and crisp. Every few steps there was a stray arrow or weapon. In a large dried puddle was a bent pauldron. It must have took much force to damage it, as it was of Dwemer craft.

“This must have been brutal.” Erik mused, trying to stay focused.

“Come! Face the Forsworn!” A witch yelled, ambushing them from behind the corner. Aza ignored her taunting and plunged her sword straight into the tribal’s opened mouth. The tip of the blade pierced her throat and exited by the hindhead.

“Bit of advice for your the next life – less talking, more dodging.” She advised indifferently, as the last sparks of thought faded from her opponent’s eyes. The witch’s lifeless body slid off the sword’s tip and fell down the stairs. The sound of braking bones followed. They advanced up.

Around the corner, near the summit, lied a shape wrapped in furs and cloth. A body. Erik carefully cut the end that should be the head. Beneath the improvised funeral shrouds was a pale face of a Nord male. His lips were blue, on his cheek was a smear of purple war paint.

“Not our Dunmer… Did you know him?” He asked, noticing his partner’s stare.

“No. Though I wouldn’t mind to.” She denied, eying the dead man’s brow and jawline.

“Leering at the dead? Really? Have some respect!” Erik reprimanded, covering the corpse back. He hoped she didn’t sense jealousy in his voice.

“Admiring, not leering.” Aza corrected. “There are lines even I don’t cross.”

“We’re almost there” he changed the subject, switching the dagger for the axe.

What was left of the Forsworn after the mercenary raid was finished off by the two heroes. The remaining primitives were either dead or died away somewhere in the bushes. The hill was reclaimed by civilization.

As they reached the top, an arrow cut the air with a hiss, striking the ground between them. The gilded dart shone in the sunlight.

“Sheathe your weapon” Aza ordered, seeing her partner’s stance. The arrow was elven, not tribal. And the shooter missed on purpose. This was a crucial moment. “Trust me.” She said and Erik obeyed without hesitation. The axe rested on his back.

“Jen, it’s me!” The Redguard called out. There was no answer.

“Prove it!” A low, but female voice demanded after a longer moment.

“Mephala’s sweet titties and Boethiah’s she-cock!” Aza replied, as if the obscenities spewing from her mouth were some sort of secret code.

“How did you meet her again?” Erik asked in disbelief.

“Shut it.”

“Are you two going to stand there all day?” The low voice grew impatient.

They crossed a short stone bridge leading to the small holm between two streams. From behind a hide wall approached the Dunmer amazon. Not following the major Dark Elf canons of beauty, her hair was dark, not red. She wore yellow war paint. And indeed, her eyes were crimson with a shade of scarlet. She eyed the two heroes dispassionately. Although she seemed worn out, the look on her hawkish face was sharp and prepared.

“The Gods must have a sense of humor.” She said after a moment of tense silence. “After all, they sent you to my aid. Forgive me if I won’t fall into your arms weeping.”

“As if I’d want that!” Aza laughed. The elf sheathed her bow, it was a good sign.

“I do not believe in coincidences, sera. Why have you come?” Jenassa asked, resting her behind against the stone altar. She knew that the only thing you could get for free in the life of a wanderer was a punch in the face.

“I need you…”

“Touching. You know my price.” The elf remained indifferent.

“It’s about saving the world…” Aza tried to negotiate.

“Double.”

“From dragons…”

“Triple.”

The Redguard sighed deeply. She knew this wouldn’t be easy, but she didn’t expect Jenassa’s professional pragmatism to be this strict.

“Erik, go get the horses.” She turned to her partner. She already had an idea brewing, but she needed him away for a moment. His part in her scheme required shock therapy.

“I saw a chestnut one near where we left ours” he recalled.

“That one’s mine.” The amazon confirmed, pleased to hear her horse was alive.

“I’ll go get them.”

“I see your wimp is still alive and kicking.” The elf made seemingly idle chatter when Erik was out of earshot.

“He’s not a wimp and he’s got the scars to prove it.” Aza felt as if someone insulted her own child.

“So I noticed. Pity, he’s got a nice face.”

“And the most amazing cock in all of Skyrim!” Aza risked. She needed something to catch the hireling’s attention.

The mercenary laughed as if being told a particularly raunchy joke.

“What else, sera? Please, after nearly meeting my death I am eager to hear more bullshit!”

“I’m Dragonborn and I need you to help me lure and capture a dragon in Whiterun, then interrogate it.” Aza revealed with a sigh. It was unbelievable what a stubborn bitch that elf was.

“Have you been hitting the skooma?” The mercenary asked confused.

“I don’t touch that stuff!” The adventurer swore, offended by such accusations. “Okay, you want some proof? Fine!” She groaned approaching Jenassa’s dying campfire.

“What are you…?”

“YOOL!” Aza Shouted, reigniting the flames with her Thu’um.

Jenassa looked at the Redguard, then at her now burning campfire, then back at the heroine.

“You screamed at my campfire.” The Dunmer noted dispassionately. “That doesn’t prove anything. The same result could be achieved with some good bellows”

“You bitch! I Shouted! In dragon tongue! What more proof do you want?”

“Something far more impressive than setting fire for my supper. Give me your best shot.” Jenassa dared, crossing her arms.

Aza grinded her tongue, crossing the stream. The two were now opposite to each other, separated by the flowing ribbon of water. Give her best shot? Fine. She cleared her head, just like the Greybeards taught her, taking a deep breath.

“Fus… RO-DAH!” The heroine released her voice in a mighty Shout, aiming at the stream. An unexpected wave shot forth with enough force to topple the Dunmer and soak her camp. The fire went out with a hiss, smoke and vapor rose to the sky.

“Bitch…” Jenassa muttered, getting up. “Alright, you convinced me,” she admitted, wringing her drenched hair, with the sound still ringing in her ears. No mortal could shout like that.

“Good! So? Will you join my suicidal cause now?” Aza asked wearily, already knowing the answer.

“Hold on! I believe you, but that doesn’t mean I’ll join you.”

“Thought you’d say that.” Aza grinned. It was time to play dirty. A second later there was a clank; polished steel met with gilded elven armor. The Redguard crushed the elf in a tight embrace.

“Do you intend to beat me into submission?” The Dunmer dared, too worn out by this day to fight back.

“Not unless it’s your thing, Jen.” Aza was taller, so she had to bend forward. “How about this: I convinced you who I am, so maybe you let me prove that other thing you didn’t want to believe. And if you won’t change your mind, we’ll be on our way first thing tomorrow.”

“You think debauchery with your farmboy will make me go hunting dragons with you?”

“No, for now I’m proposing a nice threesome. Your decision is a completely separate matter. Come on” she tempted. “We got decent food, stamina potions and even some healing salve. He’s young, clean and I gave him a few intense lessons. He’ll surprise you.”

“I’m sure!” The elf snickered.

“Malicious wench!” Aza stroked her cheek. “You know, I liked you in leather much more. It was easier to get my hands on you.”

“Are you suggesting I’m easy?” The elf pouted insincerely.

“I’m not falling for that one! Now come on, he’ll be back soon.” The Redguard’s lips got dangerously close to the amazon’s. “Let’s give him something to gawk at.”

---

“What?” He asked, seeing how reluctant the two girls were to follow his lead. He wasn’t in the mood to play games.

His bay mare neighed nervously, Aza’s paint shook her head.

“It’s about him? Oh come on!” He pulled their bridles harder, pointing his chin at the chestnut horse tied to his mare’s saddle. “He’s a gelding, he won’t do you no harm!”

The girls sluggishly followed him up to the summit. The chestnut gelding was thankfully docile and didn’t care who held its reins.

Once there, he unsaddled them and dumped all the gear on the altar. The mounts drank in one of the streams, afterwards enjoying a roll in the grass. He left them an opened sack of fodder, they should be good for now.

He stretched, hearing his vertebrae snap back into place. Without the Forsworn, this part of the Reach looked quite peaceful. The highland terrain and clouds shagging their belles on the rocky summits made him feel at peace, relaxed enough to finally feel sleepy.

Neither of the women were present outside the tent. The curtain leading inside was lowered. He heard movement inside, they must have been discussing something in private.

“Aah…!” He heard the Dunmer’s long wail. “You’re as good as I remembered!”

What the…?! He pushed the fur curtain aside.

Inside the tent were both Aza and Jen, wrestling in a position she introduced him to in Solitude, the infamous ‘69’. The Redguard was on top, her tongue was busy working the elf’s small pussy. Her hands were reaching under the hireling’s grayish-blue ass, spreading her cheeks wide and shameful. Although Erik was shocked by what he saw, he couldn’t help but notice the Dark Elf’s lips had a darker shade, but the fleshy part of her vulva was bright pink.

“What in Oblivion?!” He yelled, his voice was filled with shock and pain.

“Took your sweet time!” The Redguard ignored his outburst. “Come and help me, the bitch needs some convincing. Ouch!” She hissed as Jenassa bit her inner thigh.

“Call me that one more time and I’ll bite your clit off!” The elf threatened, getting back to tasting Aza.

“Ugh, she’s got a temper…” the adventurer sighed, as the elf slapped her ass. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

Erik just stood there, gawking at the sweaty bodies squirming on a large bear fur. He couldn’t utter a single word. He was shocked to see her being touched by someone else, but as it was another woman, he couldn’t help feeling arousal aside from anger.

“Well…?” Aza demanded he do something. “Strip!”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” He snapped, clenching his fists. He felt betrayed, but also intrigued.

“What? Don’t give me that look! And don’t tell me you don’t want a piece of this!” She sat on the amazon’s face, conjuring a muffled scream. She spread Jen’s lips, revealing how wet and relaxed the hireling was. Erik could smell the elf’s exotic juices from where he was crouching, her wet hole was amazingly small. He was curious if he could fit… No!

“Have your fun, I’ll be waiting outside.” He grinded his teeth, determined to leave the two wenches be.

“Sera, I thought you said he’s not a wimp anymore?” Jenassa’s disappointed tone kept him from retreating. The elf squirmed from below the adventurer with surprising agility. The both women kneeled next to one another, gazing at him.

“The only reason she agreed to this was that I promised you’d join.” Aza revealed, licking the corner of her mouth, the taste of the elf’s tiny twat was still on her tongue.

“What?” Erik was dumbfounded.

“She promised you’re something I’ve never had before.” The amazon said, resting her head on Aza’s shoulder. “Though I’m not so sure now.”

“She wants us both, so there’s no need to get all pissy.” Aza tried to calm him down.

“Should have asked me first!” He said, looking away with difficulty.

“We wanted to surprise you.” She explained with an innocent smile, but even her blind eye was flickering.

“And if I say no?”

“We’ll have to use force.” The Dunmer sighed.

“Pff! You’re women! What can you do to me?” He laughed.

A second later he was pinned to the ground with Aza restraining his arms and Jenassa holding him by the legs. His weapons were too far to reach; the tent was roomy, even though the roof was low.

“Watch his knees, undo the belt first!” The Redguard advised, whilst Erik helplessly struggled. His partner was strong, and the elf agile enough to keep him in place.

“Crazy wretches! Get off me!”

“The more you struggle, the less pleasant this is for all of us.” The hireling preached, swiftly undoing his pants. Her hands were small, but she had nimble fingers.

“Erik, for the love of Mara, quit embarrassing me! Every other guy in your place would be tearing his clothes off!”

“I’m not every other guy!” He protested, as his pants were slid down to his knees.

“They all say that” the elf cut in, struggling with his loincloth. The damned whelp was fidgeting like a fish out of water.

“Relax” Aza’s face was upside-down as his head was resting on her laps, her breasts were almost completely obstructing it. “We’re not going to bite you! And I told you I want you to live a bit. Think of this as a new experience.” She said softly, though his hands were still kept in place by her knees and grasp.

“Exactly” Jenassa chimed in. “And if that’s not enough to convince you, you can always think this is the only way to make me join your crazy cause. Take one for the team, laddie… Oh…!” She undid his underwear, freeing his limp, but still impressive dick. “Azura…” She looked up, her and Aza’s eyes met.

“What did I tell you?” The Redguard smiled with pride as if it were her own cock.

“It’s… It’s…” The mercenary was at a loss of words. It was huge, but somehow also incredibly shapely. Although, she had to make it fully stand up at attention to be sure.

“What?” Erik stared down at his groin, ceasing his fidgeting for a moment. “Yeah, that’s mine. What, too small for you?” He asked, feeling his cheeks go red. His defensive tone only proved he had no idea how well equipped he was.

“Is he some kind of idiot?” Jenassa couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“No, he was sheltered by his daddy like a prized virgin.” Aza explained, finally letting his wrists go. Seeing that Erik calmed down, she proceeded to undo his armored jacket.

“What are you crazy women talking about?” He wanted to know.

“You’ve never told him, sera?” The Dunmer ignored him.

“No, I wanted to keep the last shred of his innocence for as long as possible. And I fear his manly ego would swell from it.”

“Tell him!” Jen insisted.

“Tell me what?!”

“Erik…” Aza bend forward a bit, her nipples tickled his forehead. “You have a big cock. Not just big, huge.”

“I… I do?” He asked with disbelief. So, that’s why she always avoided the subject!

“Yes, you do” Aza sighed deeply. He already lost his brains. Men!

“Sweet!” He stared at his slowly hardening member in awe.

“See, this is exactly what I feared!” Aza slapped herself on the forehead.

“How big is it exactly?” He wanted to know. “Like, the biggest you’ve ever… Ow! Ow! Ow!” he whimpered as his partner pulled his ear painfully hard.

“You can be proud of yourself. But don’t get cocky! Having a huge shlong isn’t enough, you have to have technique as well!”

“I second that.” The elf shyly stroked the thick shaft. “You can have a penis as big as Malacath himself, but if that’s all you have to offer…”

“You’ll never truly satisfy a woman. And with that monster, you’ll only end up hurting her.” Aza warned.

“Thankfully, we know what we’re doing.” Jenassa rested her cheek on his thigh.

“Okay… Fine, I won’t lie, I want you two she-dremoras.” He said slowly, as Aza undid his shirt and was now stroking his bare chest. “I am but a mortal man with simple needs…”

He reached and pushed the Redguard’s head lower. Her tongue slid into his mouth and grinded against his palate. He could feel with his own the sleek underside of her tongue. Meanwhile, the Dunmer started landing quick, gentle kisses on his slowly hardening shaft. She reached for his sack, felling his red hairs under her palm. She looked up at the two kissing with sudden spite. She hated feeling ignored in bed.

“And what about me?” She complained, squeezing his testicles. Thankfully, she wasn’t too rough.

“Well, don’t be shy.” Aza encouraged.

“Come here” Erik pulled Jenassa up, her hands rested on his chest. He noticed some of her war paint rubbed off.

She pounced suddenly, her little sharp tongue assaulted his mouth. To his surprise, her saliva was slightly spicy, elves were nothing he had ever experienced before. As she was on top of him, her small perky tits rested on his torso. He enjoyed struggling with her mouth, his tongue against hers, whilst his hands wandered her body, from shoulders, to the slim waist and small ass. She had the body of a healthy Nord teen, though she could be anything between a few decades and centuries old. Her hot moist slit glided up and down his member, leaving a glossy trail on his foreskin.

Aza slowly slid from under him, so that he could rest his head on the furs. Erik struggled out of his jacket and shirt, still kissing Jenassa. The usually cold amazon cooed softly. The Redguard crawled to his legs and helped him lose his pants and boots, then spanked the elf, feeling a short flash of satisfaction, as the red-eyed bitch suddenly gasped. She took his cock in her firm grasp and stroked energetically, then took it in her mouth to the limits. She realized she was feeling a bit jealous. But there was no turning back now, and she’d sooner die than become one of those overly-attached women. He was young and free, he had to have his fun.

“Think you can fit it to the very base?” He asked the elf as they broke their kiss for air.

“Are you doubting me?” Jenassa could never back down a challenge.

“That I am.” He admitted before biting her neck. Her skin was dry and hot, though softer than a human female’s.

Meanwhile, Aza pulled his now ready dick out of her mouth, her drool streamed down to the base. Erik grabbed the elf’s shapely ass and pulled back. Aza directed his pointed cap at the elf’s entrance and slid it up and down, from the clit to the trembling hole. She wanted to tease that elven wretch a bit before letting her fuck her boy. No, not her boy, her man. Oh, damn it!

“Erik, lay her on her back.” Aza instructed, rubbing her thumb against his frenulum.

“But I like it here!” Jenassa protested, enjoying Erik’s teeth marking her neck and ears.

“You think you can hoard all the fun and give nothing in return?” The heroine teased, then pinched her behind. “As he works you, you’re going to be busy eating my pussy.”

“You make it sound like some sort of unpleasant task.” The elf purred.

“That’s more like it, slut.”

“You say the nicest things…”

When Jen obediently rested on her back, with Erik between her knees and Aza straddled above her face, doubt crossed her mind. That thing was really thick! And he was still a rookie, did he actually know how to use that? With a big cock comes big responsibility, after all.

“Take it slow.” Aza must have read her mind, as she stroked the elf’s cheek and patiently instructed the young Nord.

“I want to lick her first.” He said, his voice was calm and low. He had no intention of simply following instructions.

“Ah! Damn, she taught you well!” The elf cried, as slid his hands under her ass and pulled up. The amazon bent back, her palms digging into the furs for support. Upside-down, she could see Aza fingering herself with a pleased smile.

“Told you I gave him a few lessons.” She boasted, giving the elf her wet fingers to lick.

Jenassa didn’t hesitate. She bit her fingers, as Erik was working her pussy with his mouth, showing no sign of weariness, still lifting her ass in the air. His stubble teased her hairless skin as he made her melt under his tongue. The elf sensed that although still inexperienced, he could give her some simple, carefree fun. She was so fired up, that her pussy started leaking; a few drops fell on his lap. His member twitched impatiently, yearning to be shoved into the elf’s little cunt.

“I think you had enough” he said, laying her down, still feeling her exotic spicy taste in his mouth.

“You’ll be screaming like a Winged Twilight” Aza assured, shifting to have the Dunmer’s head rest on her lap. She massaged the round, gray breasts, encircling the pointy dark nipples. She could feel the mercenary’s frantic heartbeat. “Nervous?” She inquired with a sweet smile.

“Why should I be?” Jenassa refuted, as the young stud was gliding his cap against her vulva. Gods, this was going to be a rough ride. “Damn, I didn’t get the chance to give him a good deep-throat!” She complained.

“You’d gag.”

“I can take him!”

“Do you mind? I’m trying to focus.” He sighed, resting his palms on the amazon’s bent knees.

He pushed the first inch with some effort. With every next, her resistance grew. She was so tight, that it made him hurt as well.

“Azura, he’s going to tear me in half!” She cried when he was halfway through. Her muscles were strained, her chest heaved.

“Want me to stop?” He asked concerned.

“No!” They yelled at him unison.

“I will never understand women.” He resumed, getting deeper and deeper, ignoring her dramatic fidgeting.

The elf bit her lip, tightly shutting her eyes. When his glans met with her cervix, she felt she couldn’t breathe.

“Tight, isn’t she?” Aza inquired, rubbing Jen’s sweaty belly. She pressed her hand firmer, feeling how full the mercenary was.

“Very” he agreed, feeling the pressure of her walls closing on his cock.

As he started to rhythmically pound the tight pussy, the Redguard squirmed from under her. A second later, her curved ass almost smothered the elf’s face.

“Get busy.” Aza ordered.

She rocked her hips back and forth, feeling the hireling’s sharp tongue tease her lips and clit. Her eyes were sent on him, though.

“You are a fiend!” He grunted, thrusting with effort. He was going to have his member grazed, he didn’t want to think how Jenassa would end up tomorrow.

“Sometimes.” She agreed somewhat embarrassed. He was enjoying it, but she could sense his anger as well.

“You’ll drive me insane one day!” Erik foretold, cupping her heavy breasts. He fought the urge to squeeze them painfully. Wretch, she knew how to get on his nerves, and yet he couldn’t say no.

“Depends how much you’re willing to submit.” She tried to deflect the suddenly tensing atmosphere with a joke.

“A lot.” His look was dead serious. He had to say it. He didn’t want to, but he had to.

Jenassa had no interest in hearing such emotional nonsense. She was there as well, damn it! She grabbed the Redguard’s ass-cheeks and pulled her closer, her tongue entering the human with a slippery sound.

“Looks like she’s feeling left out.” Erik joked, seeing the slim gray waist quiver on the bear hide.

“Fuck her harder, then.” Aza advised, enjoying her pussy licked with such zeal. It was true what they said about Dunmer promiscuity.

The gloves were off. He got a better grip on the elf’s pronounced hipbones and ignoring how her pussy clenched, he roughly shoved his meat to the bare limits. Jenassa screamed, her spine arched.

“Stop dramatizing, you love it!” Aza pinched her gray tits with amusement. She looked at him. “Go harder.”

He had that alarming spark in his eyes, but she trusted he won’t lose it. He plunged harder, ripping screams and cries from the Dunmer. Yet, she still didn’t fight.

“Stop! Stop! I’m almost there!” She begged from under the Redguard. She was feeling him with painful intensity, but she didn’t want to end the game so early. “Slow down!”

Erik gave Aza a confused look.

“Ignore her.” She said calmly. “She’ll be fine.”

He said nothing, but licked his fingers, then rubbed the pale pink clit between the blue labials.

“Good thinking” his partner praised, smiling as Jenassa sunk her nails into her rear. The elf was going to come soon. “How are you holding up?”

“Close” he grunted, giving the elf’s clit a rough pinch.

“If she comes too soon, you’re mine.” Aza’s exposed her white teeth like a hungry animal.

“Bitch! Bastard! I’m coming! Oh, I hate you two!” Jen wailed, feeling a painful convulsion in her womb. She stiffened, spouting curses and crying as Erik had no intention of slowing down. She came loudly, just like she used to, losing all her pride and dignity to the two self-proclaimed heroes.

“Slowly now, let her enjoy the last moments.” Aza whispered softly, resting her head on his shoulder. His smell almost made her drunk.

Erik slowed down, enjoying the elven vagina spasm and slowly go numb. He was almost there himself, but he had a nasty idea brewing.

“Suck me until I come, okay?” He purred into Aza’s ear, quietly enough so the elf’s sensitive ears wouldn’t hear.

“With pleasure.”

She laid on the amazon. Jen was a mess; her face was wet from tears, saliva and the Redguard’s juice. Her war paint was completely gone, her hair disheveled. She was still crying a bit, pleased and embarrassed. She faintly realized she’s going to be hurting in the morning.

Aza stroked her beloved cock with tenderness, then smoothly took the whole thing in her mouth. His and the Dunmer’s flavors mixed and melted on her tongue, as she sucked vigorously. Erik smirked, observing the scarred woman moan and slurp above the whimpering and crying elf. The sweaty curves and soft angles of the two were glimmering with perspiration. Their smell was intoxicating.

“Hey” he rubbed Aza behind the ear. “Pull out, I’m almost there.” His teeth clenched. She knew what he was up to.

She quickly dashed away. Erik grabbed his cock and with a few quick strokes came, generously showering Jenassa. The worn out amazon yelped weakly in protest, but Aza restrained her, laughing and keeping in place until Erik was done.

“So, who’s the wimp now?” He asked, shaking off the last drops of sperm on the humiliated elf.

“I hate you two so much…” Jenassa shuttered, unable to move. She felt swollen and torn inside, her skin burned. But she loved it, even though it further embarrassed her.

“Well, I hate to be an attention whore, but I’m not done yet.” Aza was the only one who hadn’t come today.

“I can still keep it up for a while.” Erik offered, laying on his back. He was tired and sleepy, but he could endure a bit longer. Though, he could use a drink. Lo and behold, a stray bottle was within arm’s reach.

His partner reverse-mounted him, whilst he indulged in his drink. The mercenary was still passively laying and sobbing.

“Hey! You’re going to act like a drama queen for the rest of the evening?” Aza nagged, rolling her eyes. “Get over here, we’re not done with you yet!”

Jen crawled up to them and licked the Redguard’s clit whilst she rode her Nord stud.

“You said something about stamina potions?” The elf remembered.

“Yeah, we have a few.” Aza confirmed between sighs and groans.

“Good. I want a rematch.” The crimson eyes were burning. “After I get some sleep” she added.

“Sure thing!” The Hammerfell harlot laughed. “Now use that tongue for something more productive, will you?”

A few moments later she came with a loud, victorious cry. She collapsed on her partner, who patiently rubbed her belly, pleased to feel her twist and convulse. After the numbingly sweet moment passed, she rolled off him and took the half-emptied bottle from him with relief. Though the wine was cheap and warm, it tasted wonderfully.

“You two look so good together it makes my gut hurt.” The elf noted with a mocking smile.

“I think something else hurt your guts today. Drink!” Aza ordered, passing her the bottle.

“Bite me” she refuted, accepting it.

Erik was silent; he fell asleep after the taxing day.

“Figures…” They both sighed.

They emptied the bottle in silence. Then, although it was barely early evening, they laid at both his sides and tried to sleep.

“Sera?”

“Hm?” Aza muttered, halfway to Dreamland.

“He doesn’t snore.” The Dark Elf noticed.

“Nope, he doesn’t.”

---

Though they had their weapons handy, the night went without any disturbance. As elves needed little sleep, Jenassa was the first to wake up. Although Erik’s fully-erect dick might have beat her to it.

“Azura” she sighed, seeing the grazed, but hard shaft; the head was flashy red. ‘Look what you did to me, bitch!’ it seemed to signal.

“Yeah he does that.” Aza muttered, rubbing her eyes.

“Does he ever get enough?”

“We can test that out if you’d like” the adventurer proposed with a disturbing gleam in her good eye.

---

Erik mumbled something incoherent in his sleep. He could hear strange sucking noises and warmth down on his crotch. He opened his eyes and cleared his throat. He almost choked on saliva when he saw the source of the commotion.

Who else but Aza and Jenassa? The two wenches were busy working hic cock, their tongues played with his balls as well. As they noticed him, their lips firmly slid from each side of the base, to the very tip. Loudly, they kissed and teased his glans. Gods, he was a lucky man!

“Good-morning-wood!” Aza laughed. “Slept well?”

“Uh-oh.” He could only shutter.

“Good. Now rise and shine! Someone has to fuck us!” She demanded.

She pushed Jenassa and laid on her, their wet waiting cunts beckoned him. The elf’s was red, not pink, but she seemed eager for more abuse.

“You’re going to kill me if you keep that up.” He sighed, kneeling behind them. He slid the tip between them, feeling their wet and hot slits tremble.

“Do me first!” The Dunmer pleaded.

“No me!” The Redguard demanded.

“Calm down, we have time.” He assured, getting to work.

---

It was early in the afternoon. The two sluts were napping allowing Erik to sneak out of the tent with relief. He gave it to them in the morning, then just before noon, and then fingered them until they shut up and left him alone. His back ached, his pelvis was creaking, his cock burning.

The horses were where he left them. He opened the sacks with fresh fodder for them, then feebly hunched to the stream. He dunked his head in the cold water, feeling immediate relief in the coolness. He resurfaced with an and angry roar. Women! Gods, pa was right when he said what devious creatures they were! What was he, a piece of meat for them to devour?! He dunked again and remained underwater for a longer moment.

Did she cheat on him? No, he had no grounds to demand she be faithful to him. Or did he? Damn, this was confusing. The threesome was amazing, and elves so intriguing. But enough was enough! He pulled his head from under the water and was immediately crushed in a tight embrace. The cursed sluts followed him where he sought solace!

“Gods… no!” He begged tiredly.

“Would you look at him!” Jenassa puffed. “As if we’re hurting him or something.”

“I’m too tired…” he tried to protest.

“We have stamina potions.” Aza reminded, biting his ear.

“No, my whole dick is burned!”

“We have salve as well” she whispered into his ear.

“No!” He suddenly snapped. He bolted away and tried to make a run for it. But the swift and agile elf quickly caught up to his pace and tripped him over. He landed face-first on the grass with a surprised groan. Aza followed, sitting on his back with a mad laugh.

“Get to the tent like a good boy” She advised, slapping his ass. “Or we’ll have to hurt you.”

“No way!” He refused.

“Let him have his way, sera!” Jenassa was the picture of health, despite having her hole and throat painfully stretched. “It’s even better to do it outdoors!”

The horses were indifferent, grazing on the juicy grass and bland fodder as curses and laughs flew across the hill.

Chapter Text

“I want to go home…!” He whimpered.

“No one’s keeping you against your will.” Aza’s voice was as sweet as a sweetroll.

“I’ve…” Erik swallowed with difficulty. “I’ve given it much thought…”

“And…?” She kissed him on the forehead. Meanwhile, Jenassa was busy trying to get him hard… with little success.

“And I don’t want to be an adventurer anymore.” He gasped out, almost crying.

He was worn out. He felt as if he lost a few pounds, his tongue was sore from all the licking and his penis painfully grazed from the friction. His loins ached and he needed some sleep. But the two harlots had no intention of letting him rest. The pile of stamina potions they had at their disposal only made his situation direr. His heart was soon going to pop if they keep it up.

“Really?” Aza was politely amused. “What will you do with the rest of your life, then?”

“I’m…” he took a deep breath. “I’m going back to Rorikstead. I’ll plough the field and help at the inn without a word of protest. I’ll be a good son and I’ll bless every dull, bleak day filled with hard, honest work. I swear!”

Jenassa reached for another potion. She took a large chug then bowed her head with the revitalizing liquid in her mouth giving the young stud a nice deep-throat. His cock soon hardened, rejuvenated by the remedy.

“Stendarr’s mercy… no…” Erik was on the verge of breaking down.

Aza took the half-emptied bottle and took a mouthful herself. Her lips closed around his, she squirted the stamina potion into his mouth. He gagged, but as her tongue slid into his throat, he couldn’t spit any out.

“Just one more time…” She whispered into his ear when he obediently swallowed everything. “Promise!”

“I’m doomed!” A hysterical thought crossed his mind.

---

“You know, we’ll be travelling together for a while. You could at least try to entertain me with an intelligent conversation.” Jenassa appeared on her mount to his left.

Erik said nothing, still angry at the two wretched women. They kept him on top of that hill for another day, before finally packing up and leaving the next morning. They violated him. It sounded ridiculous, but that was how he felt. He enjoyed himself, yes, but he felt… exploited. Deprived of his status as a person.

“Hey, quit the act.” Aza occupied his right, her mare stroked her head against his horse’s side. It was possible that the two equines were related.

“I hope I won’t have to offer my ass to the priest as well?” He scoffed, looking between his bay horse’s ears. The enigmatic priest they were supposed to recruit was in a ruin somewhere near Dawnstar. The only other thing he knew about him, was that he was also a Dark Elf.

“Unless it’s your thing, no.” The Hammerfell bitch had the talent of ignoring insults and complaints.

“Will you?” He glanced at her. The way he clenched his teeth pronounced his scar.

“No.” She said calmly. She knew they will soon have an unpleasant talk about fidelity and loyalty. But this wasn’t the time nor place. “Priests aren’t my thing anyway.”

“And Dunmer men tend to be so self-centered.” The mercenary added.

“Eyup.” Aza confirmed, her tone suggested she had experience with gray cocks as well.

“Would you two shut up?!” He lost his temper. “I don’t want to hear who and how used your twats!” With that, he trotted away on his mare.

“What’s up with him?” Jenassa was perplexed.

“I guess he’s jealous.” Aza shook her head.

“You bought this upon yourself, sera.”

“I know, I know.” She rolled her mismatched eyes.

“What are you going to do about it?”

“Why do you care? What’s next? Are we going to drink tea, share secrets and make matching friendship bracelets?” The Redguard grinded her teeth.

“I’m bored and it’s going to be a long journey.” Jenassa explained. “I need some juicy conversation.”

“Well, I can tell you a story about how I tried to jump the border between Cyrodiil and Skyrim…”

“Heard that one. I still don’t believe you met Ulfric Stormcloak.”

---

They travelled north, following the Karth river, then took a sharp turn east around Karthwasten. As days passed, Erik seemed to loosen up a bit. Yet, he still wasn’t in the mood to act civil and was always the first one to hold watch. Their journey went relatively undisturbed, aside from the occasional animal.

“You know, there’s always another way” Aza joked, as she caught him sulking with the Skyforge steel dagger in his hand.

He said nothing, reaching for a stick and methodically sharpening it with the dagger. He then set it aside alongside the ones he already sharpened, and reached for a new one. Jenassa was out hunting, the sticks would come in handy for cooking their supper once she returns.

“Are you still moping? It’s been days, how long do you plan to keep this up?”

“Fuck you.” He burst out, sharply turning his face to her. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t. And that’s the problem.” She calmly said, refusing to get provoked.

“Why? Why do you keep doing these things to me? Why do you keep pulling me in?”

“For fun, obviously. And to show you something new. And…” she hesitated. “… there are other reasons.”

“What reasons?!” He demanded to know. “And don’t give me that crap about caring for my own good!”

“Look. I’ll explain soon, I promise. But now is not the time. Okay?” She asked tiredly, knowing well the hothead is going to push.

“No, not okay! Stop treating me like a brat!” He demanded.

“I’m not treating you like a brat.” Her serenity was undisturbed. “But there’s no point in having this conversation right now. You’re pissed off and still need to gain some perspective. And… I don’t want you to misunderstand my intentions. Just stick around, enjoy yourself and trust me.”

“Ugh.”

“Trust me?” There were deep rows on her brow.

“Fine.” He surrendered. “Okay. I know that in your twisted little mind you’re doing what you think it’s best for me. I just wished you stopped surprising me with your bright ideas.”

“Ha! Where’s the fun in that?”

“Is there something going on?” Jenassa appeared out of nowhere with freshly hunted game: a pheasant, drake and quail. “Because if there is, I want in!”

Erik spat on the ground, giving her a sinister look.

“Not going to happen, sorry.” Aza tried to smile. “You’re going to have to entertain yourself alone.”

“Maybe I will” the amazon shrugged her shoulders. “That priest of yours, what Divine does he worship?”

“Mara.”

“Just my luck” the elf sighed disappointed.

---

Dawnstar was as bleak and cold as Erik remembered from their first visit. The three entered the inn, hoping to hear some local rumors that could set them on the right track.

“Well, what do you expect us to do, then?!” The innkeeper raised his voice at the person sitting at the counter. The hooded figure didn’t move an inch, soaking in the bitterness from the man’s voice.

“I ask that you give me time.” He replied. His voice was of a Dunmer, though it lacked the typical cold, unpleasant tone so characteristic for Dark Elves.

“I hear they kidnapped a girl! Been keeping her there for almost a week, doing Gods only know what to her!” The innkeeper clenched his fists, there was helplessness in his eyes.

“I… know.” The elf bowed his cloaked head.

He felt a pat on the shoulder. Apprehensively, he turned to meet with a familiar face; the Redguard adventurer, who once helped him free Dawnstar from nightmares plaguing the residents.

“Erandur!” She greeted energetically. “I think I’ll start believing in divine intervention. I wanted to see you and here you are.”

“Sera.” He shook the woman’s hand; she had a powerful grip. “Good to see you in one piece.”

“Innkeep, we need decent grub and drink” she ordered, pointing at the table in the back, where a young Nord and Dunmer woman made themselves comfortable. “Come on, I think whatever’s eating you has something to do with the reason we’re here.”

After brief introductions, Aza explained to the priest the reason her party came to Dawnstar. The entire time she talked, the elf paid attention, but didn’t interrupt, only nodded every once in a while to show he was listening.

“I believe you” he said when she was finished with her tale. “Of course, this is a noble mission and I would gladly join you. But…” he paused. “I can’t leave now.” He bowed his head, his monk hood almost completely obstructed his face in shadow.

“And this is your part of the story. What’s happening?” Aza encouraged him.

“The cult of Vaermina.” He revealed gravely. “A large coven recently came to Dawnstar in place of the old one. They’re preparing for something. Something big. Tomorrow, there is a date they hold in reverence. They will perform a foul ritual in service to the Daedra.”

“Ah, cultist slaying!” Jenassa laughed, chugging her ale. “My sort of work!”

The priest glanced at her for a short moment, she gave him a daring look in return. He didn’t allow himself to be provoked by the mercenary, he was beyond such pettiness.

“I think that’s why they kidnapped a citizen of Whiterun. They’re preparing.” He foretold grimly. His voice finally had a proper grim Dunmer tone.

“And how would you know that?” Erik chimed in with an astute, but inconvenient question. Aza kicked him under the table.

“I… served Vaermina.” The priest confessed. “Before I saw the light of Mara.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself!” The scarred adventurer declared before the conversation got ugly. “Consider it done. Tomorrow, after it gets dark, we march on the cultists!”

“Thank you, my friend.” Erandur exhaled deeply. It was good to know he wasn’t alone.

---

The next day they prepared for their assault on Nightcaller Temple. It was snowing since morning, one could see for about two meters forward before their vision blurred.

“Tell me, what does today’s date signify for the cultists?” Aza wanted to know, adjusting her gauntlets.

“As you know, Vaermina is the Prince of Nightmares. Also…” the humble priest put his hands together. “Lewd dreams.”

“Sounds fun.” Jenassa teased. For some reason, she decided to taunt the priest in whichever way possible. So far, Erandur remained indifferent.

“What will they do to their hostage?” Erik asked concerned.

“If we hurry, she should be fine. They need a virgin or this ritual.”

The amazon was about to make a comment, but Aza elbowed her in the shoulder as a warning. She could not afford her allies to be at each other’s throats.

“As I was saying…” Erandur continued, inspecting his elven mace; the weapon’s surface was severely scraped. “They will prepare a ritual with hallucinogenic brew. They will all drink and sing in reverence to the Daedra. Precisely at midnight, they will proceed to the main part of the ceremony. The ritual defloration of the sleeping virgin.”

“She’s going to be asleep?” The young Nord was confused. Then again, maybe it was for the best she is unaware.

“Yes.” The Dunmer priest confirmed. “They will infuse her with the brew. Then, the High Priest will proceed to fornicate with her. During the act, she will be in direct contact with the Daedra in her dreams. Afterwards, she will serve as a conduit of Vaermina. Still asleep, she will allow them to communicate with her. Until she eventually expires, as they will regularly and exclusively serve her the brew to maintain the connection.”

“Not much violent” Aza cracked her knuckles. “But still morbid.”

“Indeed” the priest agreed sadly. He once participated in such foul rituals as an acolyte of Vaermina.

“The plan?” Jenassa stretched.

“We enter in pairs of two. One ranged and one close combat specialist per each. You’re coming with me” she beckoned the amazon. “Erik, you’re going with Erandur.”

“Got it.” Her partner nodded.

“The temple is built around a rotunda with the central chamber at the very bottom.” The priest informed. “From the entrance, there is a small annex that leads to the spiral stairs that encircle the entire construction. That’s where they will be concentrated. The side rooms serve as a common room, library, mess hall and alchemy laboratory. Those shouldn’t be occupied. The stairs are wide enough to give us some room, but as the inner sides are barred, not walled, we will be instantly exposed. At least we will have a clear view on the main chamber from the very start of the stairs.” Erandur explained. He knew the layout of the temple well from his darker days.

“Great. No games, we bust in and all Oblivion breaks loose. Jenassa and I will engage their main forces. In the meantime, you two disable any arcane resistance and grab the girl. We’ll cover you as we retreat. How many of them should be there?”

“I did some scouting a few days ago. There should be between ten and fifteen people. I dared not get myself closer. No horses, they came on foot, no heavy equipment either.”

“Guards?” Aza wanted to make sure they won’t be surprised.

“Mayhap a summoned sentry or two near the entrance. Other than that, it’s just them. Worshipers of Vaermina rely mostly on their own skills.” He assured.

“Okay. We wait until it gets dark. Then we move out.”

---

The crowd chanted unrecognizable words in monotone, melodic tone. The air was heavy with incense. Countless candles illuminated the central chamber, shadows of the gathered cultists danced on the walls. It was close to midnight, the ritual has been ongoing for almost an hour. The grand finale was approaching, everyone waited impatiently for the High Priest to do the honors.

The future conduit of Vaermina was lying unconscious on the altar; for this occasion the square of polished marble was cushioned with silk. She was nude, adorned only with elaborate golden bracelets around her wrists and ankles and a matching golden chain around her neck connected by a cord of pearls to another chain around her waist. Her light skin was oiled, her nails painted in Vaermina’s favorite color; dark purple. The same color were the robes of the priests and acolytes around her. She wasn’t as young as one would expect a virgin to be, as she was barely twenty years of age. Yet, her breasts were fresh, waist slim, and hips wide.

The master of the ceremony, an elder High Elf, bent over her, casting his shadow on the girl’s face. Whispering secret incantations, he blew air between her parted lips. She cooed in her sleep, trapped in the Daedra’s realm. A tear rolled down her pale cheek.

“And deem us worthy!” He finished the incantation, cupping her soft, warm breasts. Her nipples were light pink, the areolas small.

Meanwhile, two female acolytes were entrusted with the honor of working his member, eagerly sucking it and licking his sack, so that his rod will be hard and ready to penetrate the girl’s unspoiled pussy. They hoped the High Priest remembers their efforts in the future. He gestured them to step aside, the acolytes stroked the girl’s thighs, spreading her numb legs wide apart. Adoration and anticipation was in their eyes, but perhaps it was the effect of the brew.

The blasphemous priest would never admit it, but aside from the spiritual aspect of this ceremony, he also enjoyed it on a more carnal level. There was strange allure in sleeping women, conscious ones were too self-absorbed. He was preparing for this night for almost a year. Another conduit, another torn hymen on his account. His golden-skinned penis with an ivory cap gently glided against her entrance. Already he felt resistance, there was no doubt the Nord girl was a virgin. He suspected she was going to be tight, despite being unconscious. Wonderful.

Yet, before he could softly violate her, an arrow struck the side of his neck, conjuring a surprised gurgle from his pierced throat. He reached to the sides of his neck, feeling both ends of the dart. Unsure if it was just him or the brew, he attempted to get back to the ritual, smiling warmly, unaware of the blood leaking on his shoulders. Another arrow plunged straight into his ear, putting him out of the game for good. He staggered back, tripped over his own feet, and fell into the hot fragrant coals in a brazier behind him. The scent of incense was spoiled by the stench of burning hair and flesh.

Now did the rest of the cultist realize their foul ceremony was interrupted and their High Priest dead. The female acolytes shrieked with pain, turning their gaze up to where the shots came from. They screamed again, this time in anger, spotting the intruders at the top of the spiral stairs. The rest of the worshippers turned their heads to where the shrieking acolytes were pointing. All gathered cried out a curse, pushing on the unexpected attackers.

---

“Nerevar himself must guide my hand!” Jenassa boasted, landing a third perfect hit during the assault; her arrow got one of the female cultists straight in the eye, killing instantly.

“Nerevar this, Nerevar that, do you ever shut up about Nerevar?” Aza nagged, breaking an approaching cultists knee with a sharp kick and decapitating him when he staggered back with a pained howl. She kicked the freed head under the feet of another Vaermina worshipper, knocking him off balance to helplessly roll down the narrow stairs.

“Well, it’s not my fault Lord Nerevar chose me! I must be special, and denying it would just be rude!”

“I reckon you never sucked a dragon’s soul!”

“Sera!” The elf paused to elbow an approaching Imperial in the face. The sound of breaking teeth was pure delight to her sensitive ears. “When it comes to sucking, you and I have a lot in common!”

---

“Brother Casimir…?” The Bosmer woman’s huge eyes were dulled with the brew, yet somehow she recognized his face.

“Erandur,” he corrected, avoiding looking her in the eyes. “My name is Erandur. Casimir is dead.”

He smashed the woman’s head, instantly ending her miserable existence. Feeling sudden numbness, he lowered his weapon. Around him were the sounds of battle, but inside him was a battle of his own. He was so preoccupied with his dark thoughts, that he lost his guard. He would surely be stabbed in the back by another former comrade if it wasn’t for Erik. His gruesome axe struck from above, cutting off the hands of a Breton trying to sneak up on Erandur.

“And if you don’t want to join that Casimir of yours, you’re going to snap out of it!” Erik grunted, grabbing the handle firmer. For a second their eyes met, but there was no time for pep talk. Erik spun around, the orichalcum blade bit deeply into the hip of an Orc running full speed at them with a war axe in each hand.

---

“That all of them?” Jenassa was alarmed by how few arrows she had left.

“On the upper levels, yes. I think.” The Redguard tried to get pieces of skull and brain out of her hair.

“Help them downstairs?”

“Help them downstairs.”

“Goodie, I’ll bet five bits they screwed something up.”

---

The girl was still asleep, despite all the turmoil around her. Even the last dying cries of Vaermina’s faithful couldn’t break the spell.

“Grab her, I’ll cover you!” The priest ushered, pointing his bloodied and dripping mace at the exit. His other hand was burning bright with a fire spell ready for anyone who would stand in their way.

Erik picked the girl up; she was surprisingly light. She was alive and unharmed, but they still had to get her out of this foul place before calling their rescue a victory.

The two fierce women approached, as bloodied as their comrades.

“You have her! Good, let’s get her out of… Ysolda?” Aza stared dumbfounded at the girl in Erik’s arms.

“Well what do you know.” Jenassa whistled. She also knew the young aspiring merchant.

“Leave now, share stories later?” Erik’s eyelid twitched. Another of Aza’s ‘friends’?

“There’s no rush. We got them all.” The Redguard assured. “Just don’t drop her.”

“But just in case, we will cover you.” Erandur insisted. He knew there were many nooks and crannies in Nightcaller Temple that were perfect for ambush.

They began their climb up the stairs in formation. First Aza and Jenassa, then Erandur and finally Erik carrying Ysolda at the end. The girl cried in her sleep as if she was falling, clutching a handful of Erik’s hair and pulling roughly. He hissed, but endured.

Strange, she wasn’t heavy, but it seemed his comrades were getting far ahead of him. His legs felt unnaturally heavy. The air around him was stuffy, he had a hard time breathing. The steps were barely visible in the thick purple fog that suddenly enveloped him. What was going on? He struggled to push forward but the air was so dense, that he might as well try passing a solid stone wall.

“Erik! Erik! Get back! Get back down!” Somewhere far away he heard Aza’s scream.

He turned around and sluggishly walked down the stairs. Although he was positive he was climbing them for a few minutes, he barely passed five steps. Where was he now? The main chamber seemed… different. The bodies were gone, so were the splatters of blood and chunks of flesh. Only things remaining of the cultists were their robes and weapons. It was brighter and less… ominous than he remembered.

He looked over his shoulder; the exit was obstructed by a thick, purple fog. He looked up; the three other heroes were staring at him through the bars.

“What’s happening?” He asked helplessly, cautiously laying the girl back on the altar. There were dark forces present here, and he was all alone.

“Yes, what’s going on, Erandur?” Aza turned to the priest. “Why is the Miasma manifesting itself again?” She asked, fear creeping into her voice.

“I… I’m not sure.” The priest of Mara replied confused, tugging on his dark beard.

“Figures” Jenassa crossed her arms. When it came to being useful, priests were utterly worthless. It seemed that those five bits were soon going to slide into her pocket.

“It’s definitely Vaermina’s doing.” Erandur said slowly. “She’s not giving up that easily. She hungers.”

“Hungers?” Aza had a bad feeling.

“Yes. Although she doesn’t demand many bloody sacrifices, she already took the bodies of her worshippers. And she’s holding the girl and your friend captive.”

“What for?”

“If she’s not going to have her as a conduit, she’s at least expecting a good show.”

Aza laughed nervously, but felt like someone punched her in the gut. She and Jenassa shared a look. The elf was surprised to see her comrade so affected.

“The conduit is never chosen blindly, the coven never abducts a random virgin. She must have aroused Vaermina’s attention by the amount and intensity of her dreams.”

“So, the lovely Ysolda had some extremely raunchy dreams?” The amazon suggested.

“In an essence, yes. And the Daedra wants to see her finally play them out.”

“Hey!” Erik shouted from downstairs. “I can hear you, you know!”

“So can I.” A feeble voice said.

Ysolda was awake. Sitting on the edge of the altar, she surveyed her surroundings. She didn’t remember much, only that she was on her way home from the Bannered Mare one evening and then everything went dark. Now she was in some obscure temple, still dizzy from whatever the cultists gave her. Before they drugged her, she was kept in a dark room for several days. From bits of overheard conversations she was able to piece together their intentions. And now the cultists were gone, instead there were those people. But that didn’t mean she was safe. She recalled the Redguard woman and elven mercenary. They were accompanied by a Dunmer man in monk robes. And she herself was trapped below with this confused-looking kinsman. By what she understood, the only way of getting out was to…

“What are you gawking at?!” She snapped at him, realizing she was wearing only jewelry. She shut her legs tightly, her skin felt strangely smooth. The damned heathens shaved her! “Don’t even think about it!” She warned.

“Oh sure, because I’m just dying to do you!” He grunted, motioning away. He didn’t expect her to be instantly all over him like the lasses in his old juvenile daydreams, but it would be nice if life stopped putting rabid bitches on his path.

“I mean it!” She threatened, trying to catch a nearby robe with her foot. She managed to grab it between her toes and pull up to reach with her hand, still glaring at the red-haired man. The scar on his face and the axe he was carrying didn’t make him particularly trustworthy.

“And what are you going to do? Scream? No one’s going to hear you anyway.” He said without thinking.

He hadn’t the faintest suspicion of the only logical outcome. Ysolda shrieked and ran into one of the smaller side rooms, pressing the robes to her chest. Her white bum bounced as she fled.

“Great going!” Jenassa applauded. “You’re a natural!”

Erandur said nothing, observing Aza’s profile. The Redguard was strained like he’d never seen her before.

“There’s nothing we can do now.” He said, gently putting his hand on her pauldron. “We should leave them be. There’s a comfortable common room on this level.”

“Great!” The amazon headed there first.

“Go on ahead. I’ll join you in a second.” The adventurer asked with a faint sigh.

“Of course.” Erandur was gone the next second.

“What now?” Erik asked helplessly from below. “This wasn’t part of the plan!”

“Yea, well… the plan changed.” She scolded. “You can’t expect me to hold your hand forever. You know the situation, you know what to do.”

“And you’re okay with this?” He asked with disbelief, raising his arms in despair.

“Okay with what? Setting up a peep show for the Daedra?”

“Oh, to Oblivion with the Daedra! They can suck my dick!” Erik declared loudly.

“Not so loud!” Aza hissed, looking around as if Vaermina was about to suddenly materialize. “Don’t push your luck!”

Agitated, Erik paced around the chamber like a captured animal. Maybe he could climb the wall and reach the bars? No… There was nothing he could hold on to. And those bars seemed pretty solid.

“Are you going to be okay with this?” He asked again, halting and crossing his arms. “Because it seems we’re out of options and I have to fuck my way out of a bad situation… Alone.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Are you going to be jealous?”

“No! Just be good to her!”

“I’m not a swine!” He protested, though he knew nothing about seducing virgins.

“I know you’re not. Look… I taught you all I could, but you’re on your own now.” Her chestpiece suddenly felt too tight. “You got this, just don’t rush and you’ll be fine.” With that, she left him alone.

The common room was composed of a few tables with comfortable chairs, single beds and a large but empty bookcase. In the back there was a small pantry. Jenassa already helped herself to the food and drink. Erandur gathered some into a basket small enough to fit between the bars. A long coil of rope was around his shoulder.

“I figured she’d want something to eat.” He said as the scarred woman entered. “I’ll deliver these myself.”

“You’re too kind.”

“Nonsense.” He still felt the weight of his old life on his shoulders.

“Are you going to cry?” The mercenary teased as they were alone.

“Am I going to have to choke a bitch?” Aza warned, heavily sitting opposite the elf.

“What’s your problem? You didn’t mind him having some fun back in the Reach.”

“That was different. This… isn’t part of my plan.” She reached for a bottle of strong orcish moonshine the Daedra worshippers had stashed away. The alcohol burning in her throat was a welcome relief.

“Open your heart to me.” Jenassa offered leaning bit forward.

“I can open yours if you’d like. Literally.” Aza took another gulp. “Damn this… I took him in, played mom to him, taught him all I knew… But he’s not a whelp anymore and he’ll soon grow sick of me constantly looking over his shoulder. It’s natural. I don’t want to be his nanny until he hates me, and I don’t want him gone either” she took another chug. “So, I came up with this plan…”

“Have a clam…” the elf pushed towards the heroine a plate with ice, bits of lemon and clam meat. The cultists must have been planning a feast after their ritual.

“He’ll soon feel smothered, I know it. Soon, he’ll realize he traded one cage for another…” she burped, swallowed another clam and washed it down with orcish booze. “But if I give him space, let him drift away for a while and let him be his own man without my interference…”

“You want to let him go, so he can come back and prove you’re meant to be?” The Dunmer patted her eyelashes.

“Bitch.” Aza concluded with a laugh. She was already getting drunk, Orc stuff worked fast. “I want his life to be his, not what I think it should be. Even if I have the best intentions, I can seriously mess him up. Just like his pa… Is that salmon?”

Fresh coral slices were pushed her way by the indifferent amazon.

“He’s not built to sleep with a virgin.” Jenassa said gravely.

“No, he’s not” Aza agreed, sucking on a piece of lemon.

---

There was no escape. Thankfully, that ginger didn’t follow her. She struggled out of the golden trinkets, mindful of keeping them intact. She could fetch a good price from one of the Khajiit merchants for those. She pulled the silk robes over her head, and slid the jewelry into one of the hidden pockets.

She had a few admirers in the past and even accepted a few courtiers. Yet, those brief relationships ended quickly. She wanted to bed someone badly, but couldn’t stand the thought of some man considering himself her ‘conqueror’. It would be so degrading!

Although sweet and calm on the outside, inside she felt an itch she was too proud to scratch. Nighttime was the worst. Her dreams haunted her long after waking up. And what dreams those were! Stuffy from the heat and sweat, slippery and burning, filled with textures and flavors she never experienced in real life.

She planned to finally get it over with herself. Ironically, she had that Redguard woman bring her a mammoth tusk. Officially, she needed it to present to one of the Khajiit merchants in exchange for mercantile training. In truth, she sent it to a trusted jeweler to craft her an ivory dildo. She intended to use it the very night she was kidnapped. Damn her luck!

She pinched herself on the cheeks to shoo the unpleasant thoughts away. She went back to the main chamber. The man was sitting on the floor, eating a piece of dried meat and staring up at the bars.

“Erandur got you some food.” He explained, not bothering with looking at her.

“The priest?” She asked, approaching the basket on the altar. She didn’t realize how hungry she was.

“Mhm.” He muttered indifferently, busy with his thoughts.

Why was Aza so eager to push him into someone’s arms? He felt she was distancing herself from him ever since they left Solitude. Was this a test of sorts? Or was she planning something? Even if she didn’t want a relationship, she had no right to pretend they weren’t partners, damn it! Well, she never gave him any illusions, but didn’t clarify things either. It appeared that even cynical adventurers weren’t entirely free from female whims.

“Why are you people here?” He hadn’t noticed Ysolda standing close to him, but far from arm’s reach.

“We came here for the priest, actually. We need him for our mission. But he conditioned that we first help him with the Vaermina coven.” He said uncaringly.

“What mission?” She questioned further.

“Dragon slaying.” There was no trace of emotions in his voice.

“So… you’re adventurers?”

He looked at her like a suddenly whipped dog. Someone finally called him an adventurer without a trace of mockery, but he didn’t feel a thing.

“I guess…” he answered after a moment of pause. “Though this isn’t part of the plan.” He gestured at the walls around them, then shook his head.

She left him and ate on the altar, staring at his profile. He wasn’t bad looking, though his nose was a bit long and the tip too wide. But his jaw was pleasantly pronounced and there was something charmingly boyish about him, despite the scar and tightly shut lips. Mayhap she was too picky this whole time? She was twenty, for Gods’ sake! And defloration couldn’t be as bad as they said, right? Why not treat this as a one night adventure? There was nothing wrong with going crazy for one night, right?

“How’d you get that scar?” She asked, trying not to sound too flirty, but not too cold at the same time.

He glanced at her, then looked away. The slash on his cheek was instantly noticeable, even if the cut was smooth and clean. He ran his fingertips along the whole length; from the cheekbone to the low part of his neck. For a second he drifted away to that horrible night in Nilheim.

“And who do you take me for? I’m treating this whole thing seriously and you get rid of me like a pest!”

“I saved your life, you ungrateful brat!”

“And I came back for you!”

“Oh, the brave hero rescues his…”

“You’re not mine! Why would I even want someone like you?”

But he wanted her. Despite her history, attitude and looks, he wanted her.

“So?” Ysolda grew impatient.

“I got it for playing hero” he answered briefly. “It’s still better than getting my throat slit.” He got up from the floor and walked out of the room without a word. He needed to stretch his legs a bit.

He… He was ignoring her! What, was she not pretty enough for him? Was it that her nose was too pointed? Her hair too dark or short? She was a helpless virgin, for crying out loud! He should be trying his best to seduce her! Or pin her to the floor and… Gods, she needed cock.

To Oblivion with chastity and pride! It was about time to have her flower picked! And if he’s so indifferent… That’s actually better, he’ll be on his way immediately after the ordeal. Perfect, both will benefit without the awkward necessity of bumping into each other on the streets of Whiterun.

He was back a few minutes later. Still ignoring her, he walked up to the blocked path. He gazed into the purple mist, then turned around. He was growing frustrated. He understood the difficulty of convincing her to have sex with him. The tricky part was forcing himself to do it.

“My name is Ysolda, for the record.” She puffed.

“Uh-oh.” He noted.

His indifference wasn’t an annoyance anymore. No, it was a challenge. And come to think of it, what girl doesn’t dream of one intense night with a dashing adventurer?

“You know, this is the part you introduce yourself. What, are you some sort of savage?”

“Erik.” He said, growing tired of the conversation. Didn’t she want him to stay away just a moment ago?

“So…” She tried to lounge on the altar seductively. “Some women consider scars attractive.”

“Yeah, Orc women.” He grinned bitterly. What was she playing?

“Are you saying I’m ugly?” Her voice raised. Asshole, notice I’m not defensive anymore!

“I actually don’t care, go be a bitch somewhere else.”

“I wouldn’t be a bitch if you weren’t such an idiot, you ginger bastard!” She yelled at him.

“I’m not a ginger.” He was too tired to get angry. “I’m a redhead, there is a difference.”

“Screw it! Are you blind? I’m interested, let’s just get it over with!” She was almost screaming, tearing her robe off. She was in front of him in two long leaps. Rage was practically radiating from her.

“Touch them, idiot!” She said, pulling his hands to her breasts. “And tell me you don’t want to fuck me.”

Wait a minute… So, this was the secret? All he had to do was ignore her in order to have her practically beg him for sex? Women were strange, irrational beings, regardless if young maidens or grizzled old warrioresses.

“Well… I’m not saying no, but this is a bit unusual.”

“And that’s why it’s going to work!” She insisted, pressing herself to his black leather armor. “I’ll probably never see you again, so I won’t have to go through the embarrassment of meeting you daily.”

“And I won’t flaunt in anyone’s face about sleeping with you.” Erik promised.

“Good. Besides, we have to do it… But no one said this has to be unpleasant…”

“So, this is a mutual favor…” His brows raised.

“Exactly! I mean, I’m twenty and a virgin! Can you imagine?”

“Yeah…” he laughed nervously as if he weren’t in her spot just a few weeks ago. “Sucks to be you.”

“Whatever happens in…”

“…Nightcaller Temple.”

“… stays in Nightcaller Temple?”

“Deal.”

She touched his scar. Without the sour look, her face was actually pleasant. Her eyes were amber, almost honey-gold. Her auburn hair was smooth if a bit too short.

Moments later, the two were laying on a neat bed of purple robes. He was wearing only his undergarments, his armor was thrown behind. He didn’t rush, knowing there was one detail she didn’t know about. He was on top of her, working her neck and cleavage with his lips and teeth.

“Listen…” he started conversation, nibbling on her nipples. “Don’t get scared, but I’m very well… endowed.”

“All men say that.” Ysolda thought he was boasting. “Show me!”

Erik shrugged his shoulders and undid his loincloth. His cock heavily slammed against her belly, the tip reaching all the way to her navel.

“By the Eight…!” Her eyes widened with fear. That thing could permanently damage a woman if used the wrong way.

“I won’t hurt you!” He immediately assured. “I promise!”

Not waiting for any reply, he bend forward, landing quick kisses and bites on her light skin. He kept progressively sliding down, until he was teasing a small diamond-shaped piece of trimmed hairs on her womb.

“Nice one.”

“They did this to me!” She said embarrassed. “I don’t shave my privates like some harlot!”

“I’m not judging.”

He cautiously spread her pristine labials. Indeed, she was untouched. This was going to be tricky. Nonetheless, he went down to business. His tongue tasted her trembling slit, she arched her back. A cry escaped her throat, bringing the heat of embarrassment to her cheeks. Using one’s mouth between someone’s legs seemed so lewd, but felt incredible. By just using his tongue, he started a fire in her womb. A draught of juices followed. She smelled and tasted incredibly sugary, unlike a salty-sweet Redguard or spicy Dunmer.

“You’ll go slow, right?” She asked with her throat dry.

“No, you’ll go slow.” He said calmly, blowing some air on her clitoris. “I’ll lie on my back with you on top of me. You’ll decide how deep you want it, okay?”

She moaned in response, massaging her tits and breathing heavily. Questions raced in her head. Would he fit? Will there be a lot of blood? Will she be hurting a few days after? Another sticky stream of dew leaked from her unexplored vagina, mixing with his saliva. She was enjoying his agile tongue enough to…

“Stop, stop! I can’t come now!” She cried squirming away. “Mara, not yet!”

“Fine. You do me now.” He laughed, laying down.

“I’ll need some time with this.” She said, cautiously sliding his foreskin down. She tasted his tip; the texture was smooth and sleek, her tongue drew circles around it, the veins on the shaft thickened in response.

“I don’t expect you to take the whole thing in your mouth.” Erik waved her concern off, observing her with amusement. It was fun to be the more experienced one, even if he lost his own virginity just recently.

Ysolda stroked his shaft in no hurry, her other hand reached to his testicles. She groped them too hard, he inhaled loudly, but said nothing, just closed his hand on her shoulder to signal she was too rough. She released, resorting to just stroking his fluffy-haired sack. Her mouth got watery as she continued licking the cap. She finally bowed her head, yet was able to take less than half of the whole length. She pushed her head lower with determination and immediately pulled away, coughing and gagging. She had no idea how to perform a deep-throat.

“Everything alright?” He asked with a smirk.

“I’m fine, I just need practice!”

She formed a ring with her thumb and index finger to know where her limit was. She got back to sucking his cock, letting her drool flow down freely. Even if she didn’t use her throat, her lips, tongue and cheeks were energetic enough. When she put her heart into something, she could accomplish anything.

“I…” she suddenly said, looking up to see his face, her lips were flushed and glossy. “I think that’s enough.”

She got on top of him and squatted above his hard member. Stroking it with both hands, she pressed her vulva to the base of the shaft. She bit her lip, feeling the warmth of his skin and veins stroking her clit as she slid up and down, coating him with her dews. She was anxious and nervous of the pain. But Erik didn’t seem to be the rowdy type; he reached under her ass and supported her, giving he rump a gentle rub.

“Okay, don’t move a muscle…” she requested. In response he flexed his lower abdomen muscles; his penis joyfully wiggled. “That’s not funny!” She yelled.

“Okay, okay…” he finished his laugh with a snort. “I’m all serious now.”

She went still; her palms rested on his abdomen. He could feel her hands shake, but didn’t move an inch not wanting to startle her. After a moment of pause, she descended on his cock. Erik felt resistance; her hymen stretched and gave in, letting him inside. Ysolda gasped, but didn’t stop, her heart-shaped ass lowered itself further. She was an inch from the base when she felt she couldn’t take any more in. He understood without a word. From this perspective he could see a thin stream of blood leak out, drip down and stain his pubis. Again, the bards were proven to exaggerate as the stream was meager. Although, he could tell from the look on her face the pain was there.

“You okay?”

“It hurts.” Ysolda stated the obvious. “But it’s nothing I can’t bear. Just… let me do it”.

She moved her hips up and down, breathing with strain. It hurt, especially with a man of his size. But it was not the worse kind of pain in her busy life. She did a few slow squats, not deterred by the discomfort. She knew she’ll be sore and hurt for a long time after.

Doing something wrong was as bad as doing nothing, Erik knew that well. She was stretched enough, now it was time to turn this into a team effort.

“Lie down on me” he said.

Ysolda rested on her knees and bend forward, her face was above his. Erik firmly grabbed her ass and bit into her sweet small nipples. He just realized she was the first kinswoman he had. Well, she wasn’t much curvy or athletic, her skin was too light, not even a slight tan, but she was pleasantly soft and her womanhood enshrouded in youthful vigor.

“Rest a bit” he muttered from between her breasts, holding her firmly in place.

“Gods!” She screamed when he started thrusting. His moves were fast, but shallow; only half of his rod went in. Yet, she cried out a line of Divines, omitting only Talos.

Progressively, her pussy stretched and adapted. The pain was slowly dulled by growing pleasure. It was faint, but she definitely enjoyed the adventurer’s cock taking away her innocence. Her legs straddled wider, her ass stuck out further, eager for more ploughing. The stream of blood ceased completely, giving in to more juices. She moaned, bending her head back. Her eyes closed, focusing her mind on the throbbing, but satisfying friction in her womb.

“How are you holding up?”

“Ugh! I’m fine!” She muttered. She hated when men treated her like a little girl that needed their care. She was an adult woman and she could take care of herself.

“Okay, then…” she couldn’t see it, but his clear eyes were brightened by a momentary spark. “Get off me.”

“What?” She asked dumbfounded, opening her eyes.

“Foreplay’s over” Erik unceremoniously said, pushing her off.

Before Ysolda could say anything, he got up and pulled her by the hand to do the same. Ignoring her protests, he dragged her to the altar. He shoved the young girl forward, her palms rested on the marble, her knee hit against the side.

“What are you doing?” She asked alarmed.

“You don’t like men sucking up to you? No problem, it’s time I treat you like a big girl.” He grinned disturbingly. “Stick your ass out, keep your hands on the altar.”

She whimpered a bit, but obediently followed his instructions. Erik had no intention of being overly rough, but he wanted to put her through her paces after the fear and pain of defloration were dealt with. He spanked her, Ysolda whined surprised, but didn’t do anything to stop him. It was just this night, self-respect was only getting in her way.

She felt his pointed glans slide into her with little effort, the thick shaft was felt with grazing intensity. She cried, pushing her ass forcefully to meet with his cock. Erik pumped her faster, still mindful of how deep he should go. But she loved it. He reached to grab her by the hair and pull her head back; gently but solidly. He bit her ear, enjoying her moans and frantic breathing. Her hips swayed to the sides, enjoying different angles. From her tempo he could determine she wouldn’t take long.

“Spread your legs some more.” He ordered, tugging her auburn hair.

She obeyed. He licked his fingers and slid them down her abdomen. He pinched and rubbed her swollen clit, pleased to hear her impatient whimpering.

“I’m going to come soon!” She gasped out, looking over her shoulder. She wanted to kiss him and taste his mouth, but that would be too much for a one night stand. Her other lips though, were tightly enveloping his working member.

“Enjoy yourself.” He replied, sinking his teeth into her shoulder.

His thick penis and quick fingers made her climax like never before. In one second her pussy squeezed him tightly, almost immobilizing. She felt an explosion in her womb, she couldn’t help but cry from ecstasy and pain. Teardrops rolled down her red cheeks and fell onto the marble. Gods, someone finally made her come! She felt her pussy and mind melt, as her joints refused cooperation.

“Hey!” A slap on the butt snapped her back to reality. “You can rest in a moment. It’s my turn.”

“Wait!” She had a sudden realization. “I don’t have any potion! And this isn’t my safe time of month!”

“I know. Don’t worry. I won’t leave you with the consequences. Just give me a minute… or two.”

He fucked her faster, his grip on her hips was painfully firm. She bent her elbows, resting flat on the altar’s surface, but her ass was still eagerly sticking out. Erik closed his eyes, giving her rump another series of slaps. Her ass wasn’t as robust as a Redguard’s but he was almost there.

With a grunt he pulled out. He jerked his throbbing cock and came all over her ass, his cloudy sperm thoroughly coating her skin. The girl yelped in protest, but she wasn’t fooling him; her lustful side loved to be showered so generously by his seed.

Erik wiped the sweat from his brow, grooming his hair back. Ysolda was sighing and whimpering, her numb body rested lifelessly on the square of marble. Her labials parted; the last portion of virginal blood and juices followed. Some was also on his member though not as much as either of them feared.

“Mara…!” She whispered. She felt ripped inside… But she also experienced the fieriest orgasm of her life.

She heard the sound of tearing material. A moment later his hand slid between her legs; Erik tore a piece of silk from one of the robes and was now wiping her from the blood, juices and seed.

“I think I won’t be able to walk for a few days” she complained, wiping tears from her face.

Erik glanced at the exit. The path was clear, Vaermina was also satisfied.

“We can go now.” He said with relief. He wanted as little to do with Daedra as possible.

“Yeah” she reached for the robe she claimed as hers. He reached for his loincloth and started to put his armor on.

“Hey…” he heard from behind, he turned around, adjusting his belt.

“Thank you. We both agreed this is casual, but thanks for saving me, and… I’m glad you weren’t an asshole.”

“I thought you didn’t like nice guys?” He teased, putting his shirt on. “But you’re welcome.”

---

The moonshine bottle laid an empty shell on the floor, next to assorted bottles of other alcohols. The amazon and adventurer were now completely drunk, debating on a topic that by now drifted far away from the original subject. In the meantime, they had two visitors, but had already forgotten about them.

“Excuse me?” Jenassa wobbly got up from her chair.

“Want me to say it again?” Aza followed, grinning like a Dremora. A fight was in the air.

Erandur, who up to now was keeping himself out of the conversation, suddenly jumped and pressed his palms against their sweaty foreheads. Both women sobered up at once, though it wasn’t without consequences. They were immediately struck with heavy hangovers.

“Oh, Azura…” Jenassa hid her face in her hands. “My head…”

“My gut…!” Aza added. “Why’d you do that for?”

“Forgive me, sera. Next time you two are inebriated and at each other’s throats, I will maintain respectful distance.”

There were steps coming from the spiral stairs. Erik and Ysolda entered the common room.

“Had fun?” Jenassa asked cheerfully.

Aza hit the elf on the head with a piece roasted goat leg. She turned to the two and quickly examined them. The girl was safe and sound, showing no signs of harm. Erik gave her a short look before turning his head away. There was no telling what he was thinking.

“I remember you…” the former virgin said, focusing on the Redguard’s face.

“Likewise. While you were… busy, two Companions came to rescue you. They were a bit late to the party.”

“Hulda must have sent them!” Ysolda guessed with a smile of gratitude. She and the innkeeper of the Bannered Mare were close.

“I managed to explain them the situation. They’re in Dawnstar’s inn now, waiting for you.” Erandur interjected. He was the only sober of the three, so he negotiated with the fighters. “They agreed to escort you home in the morning. If that would be your wish, of course. We’re heading to Whiterun as well, but our task requires haste.”

Ysolda gave Erik a look. Well, it was fun, but the party was over. It was time to get back to her everyday life. However, she was now relieved form her troublesome burden and could face every new day without the shadow of vulgar dreams over her.

“Yes, I think it’s for the best. I don’t want anyone asking any questions.” She said calmly. “If you could just walk me to the inn…”

---

As Ysolda parted with the four heroes and went to meet with the warriors of Skyrim’s ancient fighters guild, one couldn’t help but notice how beaming she was. The now complete camaraderie could ride to Whiterun.

“Well, glad that one didn’t end in a disaster.” Aza tried to joke while they were preparing for the journey. “Good to have you, Erandur.”

“I’m glad to aid your cause, my friend” the priest assured. Now that the coven was no more and their hostage free, he was finally at peace. “You have my mace.”

“And my bow!” Jenassa joined in, already forgiving the Redguard for clobbering her with a heavy, but tasty goat leg.

“And my axe.” Erik assured, saddling his horse.

They shared a look. His clear blue eyes didn’t have that sinister spark, but weren’t tender either.

Chapter Text

“What in Oblivion is that?!” Skjor asked in disbelief, his good eye gawking at the scene below.

The girl they were supposed to rescue gagged on some young stud’s impressive dick, tried to excuse her lack of technique, then went down on him again.

“Either you need to cut down on the mead or you don’t know a huge cock when you see one.” Aela squinted at the couple oblivious of their presence.

Hulda, the innkeeper of Whiterun’s finest inn, contacted the Companions fighters guild when her close friend Ysolda went missing. From a trusted source they learned the girl was held captive near Dawnstar by daedric cultists. The two headed to the rescue without haste. It seemed, however, that they missed an epic fight. All the cultists were gone, yet there were weapons and empty robes scattered around the place and signs of fierce battle.

And now this strange scene. The girl was obviously in good health and enjoying herself, it didn’t seem the man was forcing her to pleasure him.

“Enjoying the show?” A wobbly voice asked.

Behind them was the familiar Redguard. Aela remembered her well, she made quite the impression back in Jorrvaskir. Although, when she and Skjor decided to share their ‘gift’ with her in the privacy of the Underforge, all she could say was ‘What? I thought you meant a threesome? Count me out!’ then fled.

“What’s going on here?” The Huntress asked, looking over her shoulder. That was some fine piece of manmeat.

“It’s cool, don’t worry.” Aza burped loudly. “Sorry. Y’know, come with me, I’m far too drunk to explain.”

She led them to the common room where a drunken Dunmer woman was teasing a Dunmer priest. As he was the only one sober in the group, he thoroughly explained the situation to the warriors.

“So, the girl doesn’t need rescuing.” Skjor finally sheathed his blade. “We should get ba…” he noticed his Shield-Sister’s incisive gaze.

“You. Me. Inn. Now.” She ordered, grinning ferociously. She wasn’t going to let this night go to waste.

“It was good to see you again.” The half-blind warrior addressed the scarred Redguard. “If you ever change your mind and come back to Jorrvaskir, you’ll be more than welcome. Just…” he pointed at the staircase. “… Don’t bring your friend along.”

They left the temple in haste. It was a while since they got a job together as Shield-Siblings. As they had time, they could use it for some ‘bonding’. They quickly got a room and rushed upstairs.

Aela slid the staple in place. She hungered for some hard pounding, Skjor was away for far too long. Sadly, because the rest of the Circle were whiny babies, she had only him left. She did miss Kodlak and his steady, patient style, and although the twins were nothing special separately, together they gave her some of the most intense fuck sessions. Alas, until they remembered where their spines were, they had no right to enjoy her sisterly affection.

“We’ll have it… natural tonight.” Skjor said, tearing his armor off.

He was much older, but she didn’t mind. His strength, loyalty and fierceness in battle were of ten men. Not to mention his prowess in bed, something he picked up from harlots comforting the soldiers in the Great War. The warrior’s experience and cool confidence made the proud Huntress’ knees weak. Although, she’d punch him in the face if he’d ever boast about it.

Aela unhurriedly slipped out of her armor. She heard a grunt, then a growl. The sound of ripping skin and claws scraping the floor followed. As she turned around with a pirouette, she faced a great white werewolf. The top of the beast’s massive head was balding, its left eye was completely white. It gnashed its ivory, sharp teeth as if grinning promiscuously.

“I always knew I bring out the animal in you.” She said, scratching the beast’s chin.

In response, the werewolf ran its wide, rough tongue from her navel to her throat, moistening her abdomen and chest. The Huntress shivered with anticipation. A bed was an unnecessary commodity, they had the floor. The moonbeast unexpectedly took her in its long furry arms and lifted up. Still grunting, it proceeded to mark her breasts with its teeth, leaving bruises and marks all over her fair skin. She was far from complaining, sinking her hands in the soft white fur. Skjor finally turned her over and pinned to the ground. His tongue licked her rump, Aela murmured in response, waiting for more. She suddenly felt claws on her hips ant the tip of his animalistic cock slipping between her labials. He thrust deeply in one quick shove. A howl cut the air, but it was the Huntress wailing in surprise, pain and pleasure. The beast growled, drips of saliva dripped on her back. She was much tighter as a human, he intended to make up for all the time he was away from Jorrvaskir. Tiny streams of blood ran down her thighs when his claws cut her skin, but with her fortitude they would heal in the morning.

“And I thought I was raised by wolves.” She muttered, sticking her ass further and resting her painted cheek on the rough floor.

She and Skjor enjoyed a quick and wild ride, after which they had a short break, then took it nice and slow, lazily fucking in human form. She scratched his chest, just so he didn’t enjoy himself too much. Shortly before dawn, she fell asleep with the faint realization she should mind how she sits for at least a week.

They slept for barely two hours, when there was a knock on the door. Feebly, Aela got up from their lair and hobbled to the door, forgetting she was undressed and had cuts and bruises all over. Werewolves were fun to mate with, but less predictable than men.

“What in Oblivion is so important, that… oh.” She bit her tongue before she said too much.

It was the girl they were supposed to rescue. Safe and sound, she was standing in front of the Huntress, dressed in fine silk robes. She was still slightly blushing, but was looking healthy and strangely radiant.

“I hear you’re walking me home?”

“Uh…” for a second Aela recalled Ysolda choking on the red-haired buck’s huge cock. “Yes. Just give us ten minutes, and we’ll be on our way.”

---

“It was casual, if you need to know.” Erik said as they rode up front.

Since Erandur had no horse, he rode with Jenassa in the far back, giving them some privacy.

“You’re a grownup, you don’t need to confide everything to me.” Aza replied, still feeling her head heavy form the magical hangover. Though the spell was useful, she wished Erandur had warned her.

“I thought you’d want to know.” He said, growing sulky.

“Were you good to her?”

“I did the best I could.”

“That’s all I need to know.” She felt relief. She didn’t know Ysolda well, but was glad her first sexual experience wasn’t unpleasant, despite the circumstances.

“So, you don’t mind me sleeping with other women at all?” He grew frustrated.

“I don’t… As long as it’s casual” She said faster than she could think.

“And you’ll sleep with others as well?” He interrogated her relentlessly.

“Casually” she said honestly, quickly glancing at his profile. “I enjoy sleeping with you more than just for fun, though.”

There was movement in the bushes, but it was only an elk. It stuck its head from between the twigs, then fled instantly.

“Are we a couple?” He asked bluntly.

“I’m not sure. Besides, do you know what it’s like to really be in a commitment?” She pulled a straw from her mare’s mane. “Do you think you’re ready?”

“You keep laying me off since Solitude. I guess it’s for my own good, right?” Erik grinded his teeth, but didn’t bite his tongue.

“Do you love your father?”

“What?” Her sudden question was completely out of context. “Of course I do! He raised, fed and provided for me.” He enumerated, seeing a parallel here.

“But his love and care were smothering you, right? Despite his intentions, you wished to finally get away from him.”

“I…” this always made him feel ungrateful, but yes, he was tired of his father’s constant concern and wanted to leave the safety of his home.

“There comes a time you want to become independent of the people who care for you. Because if you don’t, you end up clinging to them and things slowly turn sour. Your pa cut you lose late, but not late enough for you to hate his guts. And I have no intention of replacing him. There’s no point in taking you with me and teaching if I keep treating you like a child.”

“Well, no one forced you to come back to Rorikstead and pick me up.” He grunted, knowing she already had a counterargument.

“You’d die within a week without my help.” She foretold adamantly. “And I didn’t want that.” She added softer. “You showed promise. And was so helplessly cute.” She chuckled, remembering the wimp he used to be.

“So, do you…?” He felt his muscles tense as he was about to ask the crucial question.

“I want all the best for you.” She interrupted before he went too far. “And that’s better than all the pretty words you could wrap my attachment in.”

They rode in silence for a while, enjoying the quiet of the pine forest. It started to snow; large fluffy flakes were lazily falling from the gray sky.

“You disappointed me there.” Aza suddenly broke the silence. “I was positive you’re going to confess something big and committing without even thinking.”

“Not this time” he declared with dignity. “Your turn to make an effort.”

“You’re an ungrateful dumbass.”

Although the Dunmer duo rode far behind, their elven ears had perfect hearing.

“Is it always like this between them?” Erandur sighed.

“You should see them when they’re moody. We could fetch a nice price for those two if we sold them to a circus. You know…” she looked over her shoulder as the priest was riding behind her. “If the road gets bumpy you should get a good grip of my chestpiece.”

“The waist suits me just fine, thank you.”

---

They finally arrived in Whiterun. The prosperous city was busy as usual; people were going about their daily business, oblivious of what was soon going to happen in Dragonsreach.

The four climbed the steps to the Jarl’s palace when they encountered a wealthy dressed Redguard going the opposite direction.

“Do you go to the Cloud District very often?” He asked in an arrogant tone, eying the heroes.

Before he could answer himself, Aza shoved him into the moat below. The water swallowed him whole, before he bobbed up, crying curses and promises of payback.

“He had it coming.” She grunted, seeing Erandur’s disapproving look.

“I second that” Jenassa nodded.

---

Jarl Balgruuf was loyal to the people of Whiterun first, and the Empire second. But he was also a true Nord at heart and knew that when a mythical monster, such as a dragon, threatens your people, you don’t try to negotiate but hit it in the hardest and most brutal way possible.

“I confess, I was hoping you wouldn’t return.” He sighed, seeing Aza and her comrades approach his throne. “But I know the Gods’ doing when I see it. The buildings are mostly wooden, but thankfully Whiterun is built upon natural underground streams. I’ve made preparations while you were away and we’re ready. We will hunt your dragon first thing tomorrow. And I can assure you, the great chains will hold it.”

“Of course, my Jarl.” The Dragonborn bowed with respect. She didn’t envy Balgruuf’s position, caught between the rebels and imperialists, but she admired his talent to remain neutral for so long.

“I will be joining you.”

“Balgruuf, you can’t be serious!” The housecarl chimed in.

“I made up my mind Irileth. I cannot hide like coward in my palace while a dragon threatens my city and her people. I will face the fiend as well… with you at my side.”

“As if leaving me out was an option.” Irileth huffed.

“Do you require any assistance?” Balgruuf addressed the heroine.

“Aside from a few able men, it would be nice if you could spare us a place to sleep and something to eat.” Aza suggested humbly.

They were granted two rooms in the living quarters. One for Aza and Erik, and the opposite one for the two Dunmer.

Erik crackled his knuckles. Tomorrow they were going to do a deed worthy of song! Dragonsreach was a historical place, build to host a captured dragon. Numinex’s on the wall above the Jarl’s throne was a memento of ancient heroes and legendary bravery. He didn’t feel like a hero in the making, though. And just now, he remembered a promise he broke. He promised he would write to his father. And this was the last chance to make amends. He excused himself and headed to the Bannered Mare.

---

“Hey, you look like someone who can handle their drink!” A stranger in black robes called out to him. “How about a friendly drinking contest for a magical staff?”

“Sorry, no time.” He excused himself, taking a piece of paper and some charcoal from the innkeeper. The woman paid her patrons little mind, still concerned about Ysolda’s fate. But Erik couldn’t ease her troubled mind, least he’d arouse suspicion.

He sat down in the far back, trying to piece everything together in his head. What should he write about? He wrote much slower than he read, and he could spend days writing down everything in detail. Then again, he was an adult, father didn’t need to know everything, just enough to know he was doing fine and missed him.

“Pa, I’m sorry I didn’t write sooner, there was much going on. Much more than I could expect in my wildest dreams…"

“Mead? Ale? Something to eat?” A Redguard serving woman attended to his table. Her brown tunic had a shamelessly low neckline. Dear Gods, there was something about Redguard women that made his mouth dry.

“I’m fine, thank you.” He declined as politely as he could.

The woman shrugged her shoulders and left, leaving him to his letter.

“… Adventuring isn’t what I expected, and I have no more illusions. But I regret nothing. I got a few nasty cuts here and there, but I’m doing fine. Handling an axe is much easier than raking or hoeing the field. I got some decent armor, good piece of leather, fits me like a glove. She insisted I use something lighter than iron. And I have a horse: a mare. She’s…” he paused for a moment to find the correct words, “difficult, but alright once you get to know her better. Aza, not the mare. I’m actually glad I met her, even though she can sometimes nag my head off. I miss you and Rorikstead, but I’m still happy to see the world outside of our village.” He rubbed his chin. Would he ever see his father again? “We’re preparing for something big, something you’d never believe even if I told you right in the face. I hope everything goes out as planned. I miss you and hope you’re doing well. Give my regards to Jouane and the girls. Erik.”

He left the letter and the pay at the bar and was on his way back to the palace. He felt an unpleasant bitter taste at the back of his mouth; anxiety.

---

“Winged… Snow… Hunter…” Aza muttered those three words like a mantra. They composed the name of the dragon she was supposed to summon. “Odahviing.”

Maybe it wasn’t too late to pack up and try her luck on High Rock or Morrowind? How long would it take before she reaches the east or west boarder? Will her horse endure? She had some modest funds…

“Ah, shut up, you cowardly bitch!” She hissed, pulling herself from the impressive vista stretching before the Great Porch.

“I hadn’t said anything.” Erik said, appearing out of nowhere.

“Damn it, don’t sneak up on me like that!” She squeaked.

“I’m not sneaking up on anyone. I was once told by this one Redguard I’m terrible at it.” He played smartass.

“Gods, the headaches you give me sometimes…” She rubbed her temples. “Come on, we’re practicing the whole ordeal.”

The plan was simple; summon the dragon, then weaken it and lure to the trap readied at the back of the grand balcony. Once it was caught in the massive wooden blocks they had to interrogate it. But first they had to catch it and survive.

Jenassa was the ranged specialist: her role was to keep engaging the dragon with her arrows if it gets off course. Erandur was entrusted with deflecting its firebreath with his magic and if need arises heal anyone who’d need it. Erik, in Aza’s own words, had to ‘keep it pissed off’. He had the liberty of interpreting her words however he saw fit. As for herself… she would be the center of Odahviing’s attention. To put it bluntly: she was fucked.

---

No one had any appetite, the four excused themselves from the Jarl’s table and headed to the servants’ quarters early in the evening. Saying their goodnights, the two couples retreated to their rooms.

“So… Meditating, huh?” Jenassa started conversation, lounging on her bed.

“Yes, and I would like to keep it that way if you don’t mind.” Erandur replied, not bothering with opening his eyes.

The room was cozy, with two small beds at opposite walls. The priest was sitting on a carpet, lending his thoughts to Mara. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel that all the humility and penitence in the world won’t be enough to make up for his darker days.

The amazon eyed him with growing annoyance. Priests! What useless lot! All they could do was talk and pray. She felt a growing itch. The two humans were probably humping like crazy now. And she was stuck here with a priest of Mara. Well, it was time to take matters in her own hands, she had no intention of sleeping alone tonight, not before the big day.

She reached for a platter of grapes on the nightstand. Erandur hadn’t flinched an eyelid, his face was tranquil, half of it hidden in the shadow under his hood. The baggy robe covered him whole, hiding his figure. And she wanted to see it.

She threw a grape onto his crossed laps, where his robes formed a natural cavity. There was no response. She continued, until the platter was empty and his robe full of the small sour fruits. He still ignored her, she was out of ammo. Well, she still had the platter…

He dodged it with grace, bending back the second the wooden plate was about to hit him on the head. He turned his face to her and opened his eyes.

“Is there something you need?” He asked, showing no signs of annoyance nor daring.

“Well, now that you mention it, you could finally get useful.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You priests” she slid her legs off the bed and sat on the edge, leaning forward. She was wearing only shorts and a sleeveless shirt. “You do nothing but talk, and when it gets to actually doing something, you excuse yourselves with religious nonsense.”

“Oh.” He noted patiently.

“Utterly useless.”

“What is your game?” The priest asked bluntly. He wanted to have whatever there was in the air done away with, there was no room for distractions.

“My game? What’s up with you, acting so noble and pious? So… nauseatingly humble. What do you want to make up for?”

“A lot of things I do not wish to share.” He replied in a tone that firmly, but politely cut the discussion.

“With what?” Jenassa got down on the floor and crawled towards him on all fours. “Humbling thyself? Hah! I’ll tell you a secret: the Gods don’t care. You can squat in the mud all day long, singing holy verses and they still won’t care.” She looked under his hood. Erandur’s slanting eyes were half-shut, confidently staring back into hers. “Sacrificing yourself is meaningless. Now, getting up… or going down and actually doing something, that takes guts.”

He took a moment to consider her words. Was she really telling him the truth, or did she just want him for herself for this night only? Sellswords were a deceitful lot.

“And what do you suggest I do, my lady?” There wasn’t a hint of lust in his voice.

“What was that they say about Mara?” Jenassa rested her head on his lap, laying on her side. “She’s the goddess of love and compassion? Well, I don’t see you being compassionate, you stuck-up arse.”

“Please, show me the errors of my ways.” He asked kindly.

She was a devious woman, no doubt. But, perhaps she was right? Perhaps he went too far in his conversion? Blindly worshipping Mara, but not doing any actual work in her service was pointless. He had an obligation to spread her love to the world… in any shape or form. And besides, why shouldn’t he spend a night with a kinswoman before a task as dangerous as capturing a dragon?

“Mara gives comfort to the troubled. Well, I’m troubled and I need comfort. So comfort me until I scream. That is, if you can actually do it.” She dared, seeing the change in the priest.

Erandur said nothing, but gently held her wrist. He guided her hand between his laps. Jenassa felt a bulge under the fabric of his robe. A hard, solid bulge.

“Well, you have a way of putting things in perspective, sera.” He said calmly, freeing her wrist, her hand remained in place. “I think it’s my duty as Mara’s emissary to give myself to you. And” he resented double standards, so he wanted to come clean. “It’s been awhile since I bedded someone.”

“How long?” She rubbed his erection, honestly curious.

“Long enough for me not to be picky.”

“Bastard!” She rested on her arm and grabbed the back of his hood. She pulled it sharply, for the first time seeing his face and hair. His hair was dark like hers, very long and incredibly well kept. Why did he hide it from the world like some ugly nun!? She just had to touch it.

“Have you never had a man who washed his hair?” He asked, as she played with it for a longer moment.

“Shh, talking is pointless, remember?” She reminded, feeling the silky soft strands under her fingertips.

Erandur was silent as he pulled her onto his crossed laps, her rump squashed the grapes, but neither paid any mind. She brushed her cheek against his beard; he washed and combed it daily, staying true to the proverb ‘a dirty body hides a dirty mind’.

She found his lips in the dark bush, his mouth tasted minty with a bitter hint. He lightly bit her tongue, showing he had no intention of taking it passively. The priest knew how to use his mouth, she soon found herself salivating. Mayhap he actually knew how to pleasure a woman?

He pinched her buttock, feeling her shorts wet from the grape juice. As he slid both hands under the thin fabric, he felt her skin damped and cool as well. What a messy woman she was! He motioned her to get off him and without a word guided to rest her hands on the edge of his bed. She eagerly stuck her ass out.

She looked over her shoulder; Erandur was unhurriedly stripping from his humble robe. Underneath, his figure was typical of a Dunmer male; strong, but not burly, the muscles were weaved tightly, he hadn’t the slightest hint of excess fat. As with all Dunmer, he was bound to possess wiry strength. Just like all elves, he was hairless from neck down, but the vital spot of her interested was still hidden from her sight.

He approached her with the cord that served to fasten his robe in his hand. He gently held her by the neck, pressing her head down, so she wouldn’t peek. He pulled her shorts down, exposing the gray rear and small pussy with the dark blue lips swollen from excitement. Oh, getting punished by a righteous priest, now that was something she never had!

The rope swished in the air and hit her ass, conjuring a surprised gasp. He didn’t use much force, but knew how to move his wrist to give the rope enough momentum. His grip on her neck increased, he pressed her firmly to the furs covering the bed, she could tell they were new as she could smell faint musk. Her ass-cheeks were squeezed firmly the whole time he kept patiently lashing her. Neither uttered a single word, only her muffled moans spoiled the silence. Her ass burned, but she felt like a punished teen. And her itch was soon dulled by the wetness that filled her pussy.

Erandur finally had enough of the whipping. He coiled the rope and put it on the nightstand, he was still a true pedant. Jenassa hadn’t dared move, wanting to see what will he come up with next. Her mouth was watery, as well as her pussy, some juices leaked, staining her rolled down shorts. He observed the clear dews in the dim candlelight, then slid his fingers up her slit. His still clothed groin pressed to her behind and he rested on her, painfully forcing on the bed. She groaned, he took opportunity and slipped his wet fingers in her mouth. The amazon licked them clean, feeling he was struggling out of his loincloth.

Soon, his bare skin grinded against hers, she could feel his erection hitting against her vulva. She wanted to look at him, but he pulled her by the hair, forcing to bend her head backwards. He bit her ear, firmly holding by her dark mane. He pulled his fingers out of her mouth and immediately reached between her thighs, finding her clit. He pinched and rolled with his wet fingertips, her throat tightened, a short wail escaped her mouth. Erandur gently, but still firmly, tilted her head, then brutally filled her mouth with his lips. Relaxing his mouth, he steadily salivated into hers. Jenassa swallowed everything, some of her war paint rubbed into his thick beard.

He released her hair and switched to tease her nipples. His face was tranquil, but his eyes burned like coals, despite the natural red burning all Dark Elves had. Suddenly, he pulled himself away and sat on the bed, the head of his gray cock pointed proudly at the ceiling. She didn’t need a word of encouragement.

She reached for the long, thin shaft. Erandur was faithful to the old Dunmer tradition of circumcision, dating back to the primitive Ashlander tribes. He had no foreskin, his javelin was completely uncovered. The shaft turned from gray to dark blue where the glans began, the sleek head was slightly purple. She teased, relying to gentle kisses on the warm rod, he didn’t rush.

Taking him whole proved no challenge for Jenassa’s trained mouth. She cuddled his sack, working his cock to the very base. She drooled excessively, wetting his groin and thighs. She struggled and kicked her shorts off; her behind had time to dry, but was still itching from the whipping. Her pussy dripped, she didn’t want to waste time on foreplay.

Gripping the base almost painfully, she gave the cap one last sloppy lick. She stood up and turned around, Erandur immediately guessed her intentions. He grabbed her by one cheek and seized his member as the sellsword slowly sat down on the tip. He entered smoothly, with a squishy sound. With Jenassa resting on his laps, he bent back and held her under the thighs. Her head rested on his shoulder as he tossed her up, only to jab with deep thrusts.

She rolled her shirt up, her joyfully perky tits bounced with the priest’s every move. Her throat was pained from keeping in all the sounds she wanted to release, she couldn’t fight them anymore. She wailed, arching her back, her hips jerked, so that he could fuck her even deeper. This priest wasn’t that useless!

“Oh, damn it, fuck me, priest! Fuck me!” She cried out with strain.

“Careful what you wish for, sera…” his voice was a hoarse purr. He hadn’t realized how much he longed to feel a woman from the inside. “You just might get it. Now if you could turn over, I want to see your face.”

She groaned fiercely when she sat on his laps up front this time. Her ass drew circles on his pelvis, trying out different angles. Erandur observed her in awe, he missed hearing such sounds and smelling the scent a Dunmer woman’s sweat. He didn’t expect this cynical mercenary to be so loud and devoted in bed. He intended to uncover more secret talents she might be hiding. With Mara’s aid, of course.

When she came loudly and dramatically, he could swear he saw tears in the corners of her otherwise cold eyes. She numbly rested on top of him, before abruptly getting off and reaching for a cold drink.

“Priest?” She asked, resting her back against the wall.

“Yes?” He asked with eyes closed.

“Want a piece of sincere advice?”

“Of course.” He smiled gently.

“Don’t lock yourself in some temple. Do your work in the field.” She said in all seriousness.

“I will consider your words.” He replied graciously. “Would you kindly share that drink with me?”

“Get your own.” She grunted.

“Mark my words, you’ll want me to heal you tomorrow…”

“Like I’d let that damned dragon get me!” Jenassa laughed carefree.

---

“I was hoping to have some quality time tonight, you know? A conversation, at least.” Erik nagged, staring at the ceiling.

“Then talk.” Aza muttered, laying flat on her bed with her face buried in the pillow.

“You okay?” He asked, scratching himself on the chest.

“Of course I’m not.” Her voice was trembling.

“Scared?”

“And you’re not?” She asked, raising her head, her eyelids seemed heavy, she looked overall tired.

“I try not to think of it. But I worry about you.” He said, rolling to his side. There were about two long steps between their beds.

“Then don’t.” The Redguard rolled her eyes.

“Is there something you need?”

For a moment she wanted to say ‘yeah, shut up’, but decided to be honest.

“Peace and quiet, Erik. That’s all I want after this is done. No songs, no fame, no statues erected in my honor. I just want to… do business as usual. Fight a bandit or two, kill a beast threatening a small village, maybe raid a forgotten ruin… That’s all.”

“Sounds good.”

“Oblivion, too bad we have to get up so early in the morning. I’d get a bottle to help me sleep better.”

“You know, I’m right here. I could help you with that.” He offered, rising on his arm.

“You want to take advantage of my moment of weakness… Aw, who am I kidding? I need you.”

She was in his bed in mere seconds. They spooned. The bed had a simple wooden frame with hay and furs pulled over them. It squeaked annoyingly with every move.

“You’ll be careful, right?” He asked.

“Please, I’m a professional! You be careful.” She didn’t try to hide concern.

“Cross my heart.” He promised cheerfully.

“You’re such a village idiot… Don’t ever change.”

It was no surprise his hand wandered from her hip to her breasts, cupping and massaging them unhurriedly, enjoying their weight and warmth. Her ass pressed against his groin, feeling a slowly growing erection. Erik breathed heavily into her ear, his hand reaching down her abdomen. He rolled her linen nightshirt up. There was a scar between her navel and womb, she sighed when he touched it.

“You know, I never asked how you got that one.” He asked intrigued, she ignored most of her battle mementos, this one seemed different.

“My daughter. She was too big to get out the traditional way, she’d wreck my insides. There was a healer tagging along with our caravan. He sliced my belly open and got her out, saving both our lives.” She muttered as he kept stroking the long-healed slash.

Right, it was easy to forget she once gave birth to a new life. That her flat, hard belly was once swollen with child. Her breasts heavy with milk, her nipples thicker and darker than normal. Gods, that thought was arousing! He touched the base of her clit, enjoying her squirming when he tapped it gently.

“Ask me nicely.”

“Erik…”

“Come on, you could do me the courtesy.”

“Do me hard, to the limits.” She gave in, her hips moved back and forth.

Foreplay was short, neither had the patience to build up atmosphere. When she was wet enough, she reached behind and undid his pants, directing his tip at her opening. Erik lifted her thigh up and was in with one quick thrust. Aza cried a curse, relaxing as much as possible, letting him stuff her whole. After the initial stretching and adjusting, she squeezed him as firmly as she could, he welcomed her effort with a grunt. The bed creaked franticly, the whole frame seemed to move a few inches from the wall.

“Come inside me, okay?” She pleaded, as he marked her neck and shoulder with his teeth. “I want it as a good luck charm.”

When he came, he felt as if everything went dark for a moment. Rubbing her clit, he made her climax almost immediately after, her womb took in what it could of his intense load.

“Come on, let go.” He muttered after a moment of blissful relaxation.

“Stay inside, I want to fall asleep like this.” She yawned, feeling his cum leak onto her thighs and the bed.

Judging from how much he came, luck was bound to be on their side.

---

“Hey, wake up! It’s our big day!” Erik shook her shoulder.

“Please don’t tell me I got piss drunk and proposed to you or something…” Aza mumbled, struggling out of the blanket. Her thighs were crusty.

“Dragon, remember?” He reminded, putting on his armor in a hurry. His hair was pulled back and tied; he didn’t want it to get in the way.

“Screw the dragon. Run away with me.” She suggested jokingly. Or maybe not?

“Who’s the baby now?” He asked rhetorically, handing her a wet cloth to wipe. “Come on heroine, time to kick fate in the balls.”

“Fate…” she said that word as if it were a particular slur, “that cunt. Okay, I’m up. Let me show you how a legend is born! Unless the fucking lizard bites my head off.”

---

The Jarl was true to his word. He was present at the Great Porch along with Irileth, a few guardsmen and Farengar, the court wizard.

“So, you got a plan, yeah?” Balgruuf asked, weighting his sword in his hand. Part of him was actually looking forward to battling a dragon. But the dominant part feared for the safety of Whiterun.

The Dragonborn gave him the most alarming smile. Her eyes were wide with fear. She stepped forward and took a deep breath. Her mouth went completely dry, but this was no time to act like a virgin before her first gang bang. The amazon and priest were readied on their positions; he was on the lower level, she was on one of the side balconies. Erik was nearby, his axe ready for action. Aza spat over the balustrade and focused. Now! Do it now!

“OD AH VIING!” She Shouted. Her cheeks tingled, the anxiety that came with waiting was over, it was time to fight not flight.

But there was no answer. The sky was clear, not a cloud in sight. As much as one tried, there was no dark silhouette inbound. She tried again. Then again, until her throat burned. The dragon hadn’t come.

The guardsmen seemed to relax, the court wizard was visibly disappointed. The Jarl was puzzled. It was impossible that the woman was a fraud. And yet, nothing was happening.

Erik didn’t want to let doubt slip into his mind, but he couldn’t help it. Maybe the Bladesmaster played a cruel trick on them and gave them a false dragon name?

“You know, I used to be an adventurer like you…” One of the guards leaned towards him casually, his face was obstructed by his full helmet.

“Really?” Erik said, paying him little mind, still watching the sky.

“Yes, but then I…”

A blur of red and black suddenly soared from behind the palace, nose-dived and carried off with the unfortunate guard. A scream and gruesome, inhumane roar followed.

“Shor’s bones! That’s him!” Irileth yelled, a ball of thunder appeared in her palm.

“Steady! Steady, now! Keep under cover until it’s down!” The Jarl kept his cool, maintaining safe distance from the edge of the porch.

The dragon encircled the palace, the crushed body of the unnamed guard hit the roof and rolled down, falling onto the stone floor of the Great Porch.

“Dovahkiin! Here I am!” The ancient called, his wings conjured winds that could break a young tree like a twig.

“Fire!!!” The heroine shrieked.

“Too easy! Give me a tough one!” Jenassa’s arrow hit Odahviing just below the chest, where his scales were pale and soft. He inhaled, which could only mean one thing.

“YOL TOOR SHUL!”

Few of the closest guards and the Jarl himself would be ash in seconds if it weren’t for Erandur. The priest conjured a protective wall that deflected the flames.

“Do whatever it is you’re going to do!” The elf called out, maintaining the magical barrier.

“JOOR ZAH FRUL!” Aza seized opportunity, she felt her ribs closing in on her lungs, an unpleasant salty taste formed in her mouth.

The Shout struck Odahviing, his wings felt feeble as a fledgling’s. He fell heavily, unable to get back up in the air, shaking the entire castle as he hit the stone.

“Faaz! Nah!” He roared in anger and surprise. A mortal pinned him to the ground! What an affront!

“Attack!” The Jarl ordered.

Erik could finally make himself useful. He struck under the dovah’s right wing, his axe slashed the metallic scales, a fountain of almost black blood gushed from underneath.

“Look at me, you fucker!” Aza screamed in rage when the dragon turned its long neck to strike at the attacker. She had to keep him engaged. “It’s me you want!”

Odahviing focused his reptilian eyes on her. His maw opened, a foul smell spoiled the air.

“You are arrogant, Dovahkiin! Like all mortals!”

“JOOR!” She could only use the first word of the Shout dragons hated so much, her Voice couldn’t handle more. But it was enough to make him gasp, he choked on her Thu’um.

“Then put me in my place, if you can!”

She kept luring him to the trap, dodging and taunting as the others progressively weakened him. But it wasn’t without sacrifices; one of the guards, a hulkish woman, was stomped by his rear legs, her head was squashed like a gourd. A wide swipe with his tail set few other guards flying in all directions.

Irileth, blindly loyal to her Jarl, covered him from the dragon’s tail. The massive thing hit her instead, setting flying to the wall. She fell down unconscious, her blade clanked on the stones. Balgruuf cried a curse unfit for noble, but very adequate for an angered Nord.

“Farengar!” He roared, landing a quick slash on the red monster’s hind leg. “Get her out of here!”

The dragon was almost there, his path was marked by blood and scales. He was just under the huge harness. The Dragonborn danced her war dance, sweat was pouring down her face. Just a few more meters.

“Now!” She screamed when Odahviing was right where she wanted him.

Jenassa struck him just below the jaw, allowing Farengar and semi-conscious Irileth to retreat. She jumped off the balcony, rolling on the floor. With a kick she released her half of the trap. But only one corner of the gigantic harness lowered, the other was unattended. The guard that was supposed to operate it was dead, but there was no blood. It was hard to determine at this point what ended his life; the dragon, a stray arrow or spell? A heart attack, perhaps? It didn’t matter now.

Jenassa was out of arrows anyway. She acted on impulse, ignoring reason. She dashed, rolled, then picked herself up and sprinted to the opposite side of the room. She leaped towards the second trigger mechanism and pulled sharply. Just as she yelled in triumph, Odahviing noticed her. He turned his long neck to her and caught the elf between his massive jaws. The trap fell on his shoulders the exact moment he crushed the amazon between his teeth. Her scream mixed with cries of victory. The dragon shook his head, now realizing he was immobilized. Infuriated, he swung his head one more time, releasing the Dunmer. She flew a few yards and hit one of the pillars, leaving a red mark on the ornamented stone.

Erandur was with her in mere seconds. He slung his arm around her back and rested her on his laps. He immediately realized there was nothing he could do, the damage was too severe.

“Liars, all of you…!” She mumbled spitefully. In all the red that covered her face, her eyes were barely distinguishable.

“Don’t speak.” He said, but he could do nothing. Her elven armor was bend inward, even if he’d manage to heal her, the armor would crush her regenerated ribs and organs. Her back was broken as well; her pelvis was unnaturally twisted.

“You priests…!” She cried, but it was anger, not despair. “You, you…!”

“Sera, please…”

In the background there was a metallic sound and a groan; the dragon must have been hit by something large and metal.

“You’re all just talk…” with her remaining strength and only unbroken arm, she grabbed his hood and pulled back. Her hand clutched his long, dark hair. She insisted she comb it herself this morning. “You say that in the end you see a bright light. Well, I don’t see any!” Her voice was almost a howl. “You want to know what I see?! I… I see…” She frowned, then relaxed, her lips slightly parted.

But she didn’t say anything. She died.

Erandur gently pulled her closer. He said something quietly, something that could only be an apology when it’s too late.

Meanwhile, Odahviing was struggling, but the wooden harness and great chains were too strong. Even if he were in his full strength, he wouldn’t break loose.

Aza got up from the floor, she fell over the moment he was caught in the trap. She saw everything, being the only one who was directly in front of the beast. She never thought the cold, cool mercenary could scream like that. Like all who die suddenly and violently.

“You went through a great deal of trouble to put me in this…” Odahviing taunted.

The dragon’s words were rudely interrupted; Aza she grabbed a nearby tall iron candleholder and hit him over the maw. The dovah groaned. She hit him again. She’d reduce his head to a bloody pulp, but the candleholder broke.

“You just cost me a very good life.” She said, hate was seething through her teeth.

“Hind siiv Alduin?” The beast was undisturbed, Jenassa’s blood was all over his jaws like gruesome war paint.

She kicked him straight in the front of that proud maw. All other present maintained their distance. This was between the dragon and the Dragonborn.

“I don’t speak your tongue. But we both know what I want. Where in is he?”

“Alduin bovul” he replied mysteriously. “The reason I came to your call was to test your Thu’um for myself.”

“There’s more where that came from!” She promised, fighting the urge to sink both her swords in his eyes.

“Many of us have come to question Alduin’s lordship, whether his Thu’um was truly the strongest. But none of us were ready to openly defy him.”

“I don’t give a fuck” she was at her very end of her wits. “Where is he?”

“Unslaad krosis. I digress. He is in Sovngarde now, regaining his strength. The souls of the mortal dead, sillesejaar, nurse him… He guards this privilege jealously.”

“What?!” She clenched her teeth painfully. Was this all for nothing?!

“The portal to Sovngarde lies in Skuldafn, high in the eastern mountains… I do not need to warn you of the dangers there. And how little time you have left.” He laid his head. “Now that I have answered your questions…”

“You’re going to lay here until I decide what to do with you.” Aza interrupted, wiping sweat from her brow. “Get your hands off my dragon!” She yelled at the court wizard, who got dangerously close to the dovah. Farengar immediately retreated.

“Sovngarde?” Erik looked at her helplessly. “So, what now? We do something heroic and then kill ourselves? Aw, shit…” he noticed too late how inappropriate his words were for this moment.

The two approached Erandur in silence. The elf was motionless.

“There was nothing…”

“You are above such excuses.” Aza said quietly, kneeling next to him. He was still clutching Jenassa’s body. “I need you, Erandur.” She quickly glanced on Jen’s face. This was unfair. But so typical.

“I am at your disposal.”

“I need you to heal him.” She said without sugarcoating, pointing at the captive.

“What??” Erik butted into the conversation. “What for?!”

“You heard him. There is a portal to Sovngarde and we’re running out of time. He’s going to fly me there.”

“Us.” Erik was viciously loyal. “I’m going with you even if it kills-” he coughed before he said too much again. “I got your back.”

The priest gently laid the mercenary, then approached Odahviing. The dragon’s wings were cut, his sides were bleeding badly. Mara’s emissary had no idea how much Magica would it take to heal such a beast. But he proceeded to mend him nonetheless. He was done after less than an hour, barely able to stand from the exhausting task. In the meantime, all wounded were taken to the Temple of Kynareth. The heroine insisted he do the same.

“I can still help you!” He tried to protest, but it was obvious he was on the verge of passing out.

“Yes, by getting some rest and helping the priests in the temple. I doubt that with all the soldiers wounded in fighting the damned war they have any hands to spare. Go.” She gently motioned him to the exit.

“I’m sorry, my friends.” He said remorsefully. “I wish you luck.”

The only other person remaining at the site of the battle was the Jarl.

“My sympathies.” He said.

“Bitch owed me money.” Aza laughed, but it was by no means joyful laughter.

“What will you do with… him?” Balgruuf asked cautiously. He would feel at ease the moment the dragon is away from his city and his people.

“We’re going to tide on his back, so that you Nords will have something to sing about.”

“To the World-Eater’s temple?”

“And from there straight to your Norse underworld.” She said, not believing her own words.

“Crazy.” The Jarl nodded. “Let me have my wizard prepare potions and healing scrolls for you. It’s the least I can do.”

The supplies were delivered shortly. Aza, with Erik behind, approached the dragon.

“Ah, you flatter me with your presence.” Odahviing said graciously, his wings could move again but he was still their captive.

The Dragonborn stepped forward, the dragon’s maw was almost touching her abdomen.

“You’re my mount, lizard.”

“It will be an amusing experience.” The beast seemed to smile predatory. “But I will only fly you, as my equal.”

“Both of us. Me and handsome over here.” She demanded. “Otherwise, no deal.”

“It is wise to know when you only have one choice. Very well. And Alduin has proven himself unfit of rule. I go my own way now.”

“After you do what I tell you.” The Redguard reminded.

“Free me.” He said straightforwardly. “And I will fly you to Skuldafn.”

The heroes, with the help of freshly arrived guardsmen, raised the trap. Odahviing headed towards the edge of the porch. He stretched his healed wings, then laid them flat. They mounted him, holding on to the spiky scales on his back.

“See the world as only a dovah can!” He said, taking off.

The two mortals clinging to his back screamed like children.

---

Odahviing landed, conjuring a small quake. The two heroes jumped off him with relief.

“That was fun, let’s never do it again.” Erik said, once the world stopped spinning. His hair was loose and disheveled.

“This is as far as I will take you. I shall await your return… or Alduin’s.” With that, the dovah was gone.

“Okay, let’s… Where’s your axe?” Aza asked, not seeing the familiar handle over his shoulder.

“Damn it, I must have lost it when I was busy holding on!” Erik cried. Without his weapon he felt naked, defenseless. He might as well lie flat and wait to die.

“There’s a new one charging straight at you! Think fast!” The Redguard said, pointing at an ancient draugr running towards them with an ebony axe ready to cut them in half.

“Got it!” He said, getting ready.

“FUS RO DAH!” She shouted, pushing the undead back with her Voice.

Erik ran to him, pulled the weapon from his mummified hands and separated his head from his shoulders the next second. Ebony was a volcanic glass, not metal. The axe wasn’t like his old one, but was lighter… and sharper. He instantly forgot his loss.

“I’m all set!”

“Good, now…” a dragon soared above them. The commotion caught the attention of other draugr as well. “Into the keep!” She ushered, pointing at the ancient stone building nearby.

There was no time for fighting or collecting spoils. They focused on surviving and reaching the portal. They battled what seemed an endless tide of undead, escaping dragons as well. Tearing through the massive ruin, they eventually reached the portal guarded by what could only be one of the ancient Dragon Priests. Taking turns in attacking, dodging and drinking potions, they managed to reduce him to a pile of ash. His staff was a key that unlocked the portal.

“Hurry up and jam it in!” She hurried, in all the fighting she lost a pauldron, scrapes and ash of the undead were all over her, her nose was bleeding bad.

Erik ignored the pun and did what he was told, pushing the staff deep in the dragon seal. A beam of light shot into the sky and the portal was open. The wormhole it led to sounded like a thundering waterfall. On the other side was Sovngarde. And Alduin.

“This is it.” He said, staring into the abyss.

“Yeah.” Her voice ringed hollow.

“No speeches?”

“No. We’re both getting out of this alive. Now give me a quick kiss, fool.”

His mouth was almost completely dry, hers tasted like blood.

“Time to end this once and for all!” She yelled, grabbing his hand and taking a long step forward.

Chapter Text

The day had almost come to an end. It was snowing on top of Kynareth’s sacred mountain. Myriads of dragons danced in the blizzard, encircling the mountain. They breathed fire mid-air, lighting up the dusk. Their roars made the sky tremble.

“Mu los vomir!”

“Alduin mahlaan!”

“Dovahkiin los ok dovahkriid!”

The two now fullblooded heroes were sent back to Nirn. What they did and who they encountered on the other side was worthy of a long and epic song. But there were no witnesses, and neither intended to share their story. The deed was done, Alduin was defeated. Peace and balance were restored. The world was safe.

And they were alive. Wounded, exhausted, ragged… but alive. They returned victorious and as heroes… but they didn’t care. They were relieved and thankful to see a tomorrow.

Paarthurnax was gone, so was Odahviing. Other ancient dovah were retreating to all corners of the world, now free from the World-Eater’s tyranny. The Dragonborn had no interest what would happen to their kind now. This wasn’t her concern anymore. Whether fate was real or not, it should be satisfied and leave her be.

“I’m free. Finally!” She exhaled loudly, falling flat on her back, the thick snow cushioning her. Despite the injuries and dangers, she was at peace at last. Her life belonged to her again, not the Gods.

“What now?” Erik asked, still dazed at what they just accomplished.

She beckoned him to join her in the soft white bed. Snow got under the collar of his armor but it actually made him feel alive. He rubbed some into his hair with delight.

“Adventure!” She raised her clenched fist. “But first we have to get down from here, re-stock in Ivarstead and head back to Whiterun for our horses. Then… Markarth.”

“Markarth?”

“We’ve never been there. You’re going to love it!” She grinned, exposing her bloodied teeth. She coughed and spat, staining the pristine snow. “And the Temple of Dibella! Not a believer myself, but damn! What fine pieces they have there! We’ll see how it goes from there.”

“Right behind you. Just give me a moment to catch my breath.”

She got on top of him and raked up snow on his face. He shook it off and pushed her off. They rolled in the snow laughing like idiots. Finally, she got up and offered him her hand.

“I’m not wasting any more time!” She said, pulling him up. “We’re back in business!”

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Story continues in "Erik the Ass Destroyer"