Chapter Text
Three weeks later; 4E 201 – 13th of Second Seed
The Sea of Ghosts – Northern Skyrim
Frinne allowed her mind to wander as the ferry Mercer hired wound its way west across the Sea of Ghosts towards Solitude. Her family had taken a similar vessel to Skyrim when they were cast out of High Rock all those years ago.
The boat was small, but there were only two passengers en route to Solitude aside from themselves. Their ferry boasted two guest cabins, which allowed Frinne and Mercer their own space apart from the others during their three day voyage. Dawnstar was a major port city, a vital stop between Skyrim’s capital and Windhelm, the province’s oldest city. Privacy was an unusual luxury in boats like these. Typically, six to ten passengers would share a single cabin, crowded in like sardines. Frinne assumed the reason for their good fortune was, ironically, the civil war itself, discouraging many from traveling.
It was approaching summer, but this far north, the wind still blew frigid and unceasing. They had been advised by the ferryman to keep their layers of wool on during the voyage while they were atop the exposed deck. He assured them that they’d arrive at their destination in good time, but wasn’t in any way responsible for any frostbite that might befall his passengers. She doubted he also gave that warning to the native Nords, since they were all but immune to Skyrim’s cold. Must be nice.
“Are you warm enough, love?” Mercer approached from the side of the boat and stroked her exposed cheek with his gloved hand.
She turned and smiled. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”
An involuntary chill sent a shiver across her body as his touch roamed downwards that had nothing to do with the weather. “Are you sure? I could warm you below decks.”
“I’m sure.” She forced another smile and gave his hand a quick squeeze before turning around to gaze out at the waves once more. Mercer’s spirits had been high ever since they had left Irkngthand with the Eyes, and his drive even higher. He’d been generous during sex, pleasuring her first and foremost. Frinne was grateful for it, and appreciated the affection. It was a welcome change from his usual style, and part of her wanted to encourage it.
She also recognized that she owed him the intimacy, especially after having saved her life, but she couldn’t bring herself to spend any more time than was necessary below decks. Being in such tight quarters shallowed her breaths, and she felt her chest tighten whenever they spent too long in the small, dark space.
In all her past voyages, keeping to the bowels of a ship had never been an issue. She normally loved traveling by sea, never having even experienced seasickness. Now, she couldn’t wait for it to be over. It was a new, deeply unpleasant sensation that she hoped would only be temporary.
There were other reasons she’d been avoiding Mercer, as well. He had continued discussing what their lives would look like once they returned from High Rock. There would be no room for debate—they were to be married. It didn’t help that her valiant efforts to dissuade him from claiming her had failed spectacularly. If anything, her reluctance seemed to heighten his enjoyment, like this had become nothing more than a game of wills between them.
A game he exploited unfairly to his advantage.
As expected, he had started holding her down and finishing inside of her whenever they made love, no longer content to see her breasts or mouth covered in his seed. She prayed that her body would resist his efforts until she could covertly acquire the medicinals in Solitude. Perhaps she could also convince her mother to also secure some abortifacient herbs from an apothecary, just in case. Once they returned to Riften, the hold’s family laws would make them harder to obtain, and she’d have to rely on underground sellers who weren’t affiliated with the Guild. It was a shame all this was necessary. Ingesting a solution like that was far from her first choice, but it was undeniably better than the alternative.
Frinne knew she also needed to begin the process of emotionally detaching herself from Mercer as much as possible. If she ended up needing to face him in battle, he had to mean nothing to her. It shouldn’t be such a difficult task, after everything she’d discovered about his character and general lack of scruples. Not to mention the fact that he continuously treated her like a prized possession to carefully maintain, instead of an equal partner who had her own thoughts and opinions. The whole situation she found herself in should feel suffocating to her.
Yet somehow, it didn’t.
His aggressive, manipulative tactics would have acted as a repellent to any sane, rational woman. Instead, it was an intoxicating aphrodisiac. Well aware of her vice, he utilized it to his full advantage, pursuing her relentlessly. He was an expert at twisting her feelings into a tangled antithesis; violent repulsion conjoined with a desperate addiction. Self-preservation and longing waged war within her psyche.
No matter, it was a war she’d fought before, and had won. The truth was that Mercer wasn’t her first experience with an intense, all-consuming relationship. In her youth, she had found herself haplessly entangled with the frighteningly gorgeous Lady Ivette.
Ivette…
Memories of that time suddenly flooded her brain—sneaking out of her father’s manor and into their private gardens, risking a beating from him in order to see her dark-haired, sadistic temptress. Feeling a frenzied longing for her touch after mere hours apart, not unlike an addict searching for another bottle of illicit Skooma. Kissing in the hedges and pleading for her to trail love bites down her chest instead of along her neck where anyone in court could see them. Her teeth closing around Frinne’s neck in a show of delicious defiance while Frinne vowed to be hers forever— soft skin pressed against her breasts. Her hair being pulled as she was thrown up against that old, weathered marble statue…
Enough. That relationship was nothing more than a shallow thrill for her. Stop it, Frinne.
She shook herself out of her reverie. One day, she'd need to take the time to analyze why dangerous scoundrels held such a strong appeal for her, but that would have to wait until she was safely out of this one’s hold. At least, if he's who Sylvanus thinks he is...
As if somehow aware of her thoughts drifting back to him, Frinne felt his large, strong hands grasping her waist. He groaned, soft and low in her ear, pulling her up against his furs. “I have to have you.”
“And I’m assuming I have no choice in the when or how of it?” She turned to face him, noticing the glint in his eye.
“You actually have two options this time, my little treasure.” He tenderly brushed his thumb across her cheek and kissed the side of her face. To anyone observing the two of them, it would appear as if he was a gentle, sweet husband comforting his younger wife. The notion almost made her laugh in his face, but she resisted the urge. He continued.
“One path has you following behind me willingly, enjoying my hands and tongue on your sweet flower before I claim it with my cock.”
“And the other path?”
“That road has you continuing to ignore me. I’ll leave you be for a while. When you inevitably lower your guard, I’ll swing you over my shoulder in front of everyone here, and throw you onto our bed.” His lips brushed against her ear, sending goosebumps down her body. “Your sweet eyes will well up with tears as I discipline you with my belt. Afterwards, I’ll violate you while I hold a hand over your mouth to muffle your screams.”
Mercer didn’t wait for her response. His hands abruptly left her body, their absence giving the icy wind permission to cut through her layers of wool. Without looking back at her, he twisted the handle of the door, and walked down the steps, into the ferry’s interior.
Damn him.
Frinne took a long sigh and headed down after him, reluctantly leaving the open air of the deck behind, for the time being.
The door to their cabin was left slightly ajar, and she tentatively pushed it open. The second her feet crossed its threshold, rough hands gripped her hair and threw her onto their shared bed as he nipped at her neck.
“I thought this was the gentle option!”
“Did I say anything about being gentle?” he sneered, ripping her furs off and casting them aside.
“At least close the door!” Frinne gasped.
“And deny them the sight of you spread out before me? How cruel you are, my dear.” He used his strong legs to pin her down onto the mattress, his mouth claiming hers. She felt his nails digging into her exposed skin as he raked them across her chest. Hissing in pain, she tried to push him off of her in order to close the door, but he spun her around onto her stomach the moment she got her legs free.
Footsteps drew closer, before stopping right outside their room. In the position she was in, she couldn’t see who it was. Then again, did it even matter? There was nobody in Tamriel she wanted to witness her compromised position. Humiliation caused her to bury her face into the mattress.
“Stay there.”
Mercer released the hold he had on her, and she heard him doff his layers of fur and linen before doing the same to her. The steps of the other person started up again, and she breathed a deep sigh of relief. At least they were alone, and she wouldn’t have to grapple with the added shame of being observed.
“Now for what I promised.” He lowered himself down onto the bed again, and his fingers lightly traced the folds of her sex. His practiced digits curled up and around her, circling her core and rubbing against the sides. The pace was painfully slow, drawing out the anticipation in such a way that she couldn’t help but tremble beneath him. Then, the unfamiliar sensation of a hot breath on her entrance made her head snap up from the pillow. His tongue explored the area, sending a jolt of electricity through her.
She gasped as she felt a rush of pleasure curl up her spine at his wet touch.
His mouth was fully on her now, tongue caressing the area right beside her sensitive clit. She moaned, trembling as the sweet tension in her body rose. He licked again, slow and measured, around that spot he knew drove her wild. Alternating between each fold, he developed a new, gradually escalating rhythm. The pace was just right; it made her build, inching closer and closer to orgasm.
When she was fully relaxed and wet, he brought his head away. The chill of their cabin assaulted her exposed skin.
No… he can’t just leave me like this!
She needed pressure down there, and knew he wouldn’t allow her to touch herself in order to receive it. It had to be from him.
“Why have you stopped…?” she whined.
“Because you need to beg for it.”
Glassy-eyed, she turned her head towards him. He had taken everything off, the familiar scars running across his face and abs. His broad, muscled shoulders and angular facial features were a mix of shadow and light in the dim space, giving him a menacing, sullen look. “Beg, and do it loudly.”
“Someone will hear me!”
“That’s the idea.” The corner of his mouth tilted up. “Go on, before I change my mind and forbid you to climax altogether.”
She hid her face back into the bed, ashamed. “P-please, Mercer, I need relief.”
“Louder.”
“Please, love, let me come! I need you!”
“You can do better than that.” He palmed his cock as it stood fully erect, hinting at his growing impatience. She rose back up, annoyed.
“Gods, Master, take me to the brink and throw me over. Please! I can’t go another minute without feeling the sweet release that you can give me,” she shouted, certain that everyone could hear her, whether they were inside the cabins or on deck.
“That’s more like it,” he growled.
His hands wound their way down her tense form, tracing her supple curves, but he did not resume his earlier efforts. At least, not at first.
“Lie on your back.”
She obeyed, settling herself down onto the rough sheets. Without being prompted, she spread her legs wide of her own volition and closed her eyes. Before she felt his hands again, the tip of his rigid length touched her entrance. He took shallow, light thrusts inside, stopping when he felt resistance. It didn’t take long before her own wet arousal coated the head. His fingers returned, putting the perfect amount of pressure up against her mons. In no time at all, she reached the point she had been in before. She was so, agonizingly close to relief.
“Fuck, Mercer…” Frinne’s back arched in a frisson of anticipation. A deep thrust was perfectly timed with an increase in pressure from his hand that drove her over the edge. She cried out his name as unadulterated bliss spread through her body, nails digging into the cot.
Exploiting her pleasure, Mercer bottomed out inside of her, his member forcing her internal walls apart to accommodate his large girth. It barely hurt at all. She fluttered her eyes open and saw him looming right above her, studying her expression in detail. His muscular arms were tensed, his upper chest flushed as he took shallow breaths. She reached up to kiss him, and he met her lips. They were completely entwined now, skin to skin, while he continued fucking her.
Eventually, he pulled away from her lips, his breath hitching. The warm, familiar sensation of his semen filling her up jarred her out of the daze. He didn’t pull out, even after he had finished, opting instead to lay beside her and wrap his arms around her shoulders. She hadn’t noticed how rough the waves had become while they were making love, but she was aware of them now as they rocked and jostled the small ferry from side to side. Panic creeped its way up her consciousness, and she forced it back down. She longed for the captain’s voice to call out that they were approaching the docks of Solitude. Once she was back home with her family, things would be better. Everything would be better.
Shutting her eyes, she willed the sensation of Mercer’s embrace and the sounds and smells of the cabin to fade into the background as she entered her inner sanctuary.