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The Forsworn Retribution	By : Samson Category: +A through F > Elder Scrolls - Skyrim Views: 60892 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 3
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House of Dibella

The Forsworn Retribution
Part I - "Upstarts"
By: Jesse Racine AKA Samson
Original Date Written: November 19, 2013

“The way I see it, we’ve got a few roles to fill. I mean, sure, I could just see about getting a bunch of Nord mercenaries to come along on this, but...Well, I once heard an Imperial soldier say that if you overspecialize, you breed weakness. Simply put, we need diversity to cover every threat. First things first, we need a healer. Just my luck that the Temple of Mara is all the way over in Riften.” Maximus sighed bitterly, taking a swig from his bottle of mead. The Dunmer woman he had so opportunistically coerced into his service stood nearby, her eyes lingering anywhere but in his direction. She almost asked him why he was so certain she wouldn’t just end up sticking a dagger through his spine...Almost. Instead, she gave a weak little shrug, saying nothing.

Maximus didn’t seem to notice or care. He continued after another swig from his bottle. “I could wear heavy armour, if I had some. I’m good with a sword, but I’ve never used a shield. I find it just slows me down, I can get better speed out of a sword with both hands on it. So, I’d be at the front of the group, obviously.” “Obviously.” The Dunmer noncommittally mumbled, shrugging again. He barely glanced at her, polishing off his bottle after a few more gulps. Tossing the mead bottle aside carelessly, he said “Even the best fighter gets hurt. We’ll need a healer, they’ll make sure we all go home, after. I guess I’ll try the Temple of Dibella, but they’re more suited to training whores than healers.” Despite herself, the Dunmer couldn’t help but smile. She turned her head to the side, making sure he couldn’t see. Maximus continued without a glance in her direction.

“Some kind of ranger would be good, too. Someone good with a bow, keeping their eye on the situation from a distance, watching everyone’s flank with an arrow. That could be better than having another fighter at your side. And, of course, if a Restoration mage is good, a Destruction mage would be even better. If we could get some kind of offensive wizard on our side...Well, the Nords might look down on us, but really, that matters about as much as horse droppings after the carriage has gone by. If it works, it works. We’ll get paid, and we’ll survive.” The Dunmer woman looked at him through the corners of her eyes. Just a little accusingly, she said “You just care about the money, huh? That’s all?” It would’ve been nice if he had gotten angry or upset. Getting some kind of rise out of him would’ve been an enjoyable little act of rebellion. Instead, he was as cool as ice.

Barely raising his eyebrows, he flatly said “You’re damn right. You grow up on a farm with a couple of bitter Nords, you start caring about getting out of the house. Septims gets you there.” The Dunmer turned her head a little, looking at him a little more. The corners of her mouth flickered up in a ghost of a smile. Ahh, an angle to work. Farm boy, hm? Never seen any place as big as the Imperial City? Probably an orphan, he clearly wasn’t a damnable Nord. If he kept giving away bits of himself, she could cut into his mind and manipulate him into letting her go...Or maybe even revenge. That was what she wanted, right? Smiling more, she said “Tell me about it. I grew up in Windhelm, I-” He cut her off with nonchalant disrespect, callously sighing out “Put a lid on it. I really don’t care, I mean, I really just do not care.” She frowned angrily, crossing her arms over her chest. Turning her head away from him, she almost wanted to insult him, but she stayed her tongue. She nearly walked away, but she never budged. She couldn’t bring herself to.

Maximus continued seamlessly, saying “Judging by your light armour and enlightening history with the guards, I imagine you’re some kind of rogue. Sneaky thief? Silent assassin? Doesn’t matter. While they’re focusing on the things that look like bigger threats, you’ll be stabbing them in the back...Kind of like what you’re thinking about doing to me, right now.” She glanced in his direction, her face going blank. She stammered, but he turned to face her, his brow sinking. Smiling arrogantly, he flatly said “Oh, please. I can read you like a damn book. If you don’t stop pouting, I’m gonna nail the red right outta your eyes, right here and now.” She swallowed some excess saliva, the ashen tone of her face going a few shades lighter than it should’ve. He walked past her, and she made a conscious effort to avoid eye contact. Firmly, he said “Let’s go. We’re paying a visit to the good priestesses of Dibella.” She sighed, briefly closing her eyes. Obediently, she walked after him, trailing at his heel.

As they walked through the stone streets of Markarth, ascending stairway after stairway up to the temple, Maximus made it clear to the Dunmer that under no conditions was she to speak. In his words, it didn’t matter if the priestesses stared at her like “slack-jawed Draugr,” she was to keep her silence at all times. The Dunmer didn’t pout outwardly, but she had a sulking tone in her voice as she said “Of course...Doesn’t matter what I have to say, anyway. I mean, you certainly don’t care.” Maximus furrowed his brow, looking sidelong at her. Coldly, he said “Keep that tone, and I’ll call in my favours right in front of the over-glorified tarts, in there.” The Dunmer turned her head away from him, her eyes lowering towards the ground. A silence lingered over them both for a few moments, but just before they reached the doors to the temple, Maximus spoke, again. Resting a hand against the Dwemer doors to the temple, he stopped and looked at her. In a considerably more calm tone of voice, he said “And for your information, I didn’t let you go on a tangent about your childhood because we have work to do. We’ve got a big job ahead of us, and we need to prepare as quickly as possible. That’s all.”

The Dunmer’s furrowed brow relaxed, her frown lightening. She still didn’t turn her head in his direction, but she glanced towards her side. Quietly, she said “Oh...I see. Alright, then.” Maximus kept looking at her as he pushed open the doors, only looking away after a moment or two. He walked in first, the Dunmer following in his footsteps. As they walked in, the Dunmer looked around, her red eyes taking in the fascinating Dwemer architecture. She had heard that scholars believed the Dwemer to favour the most sturdy and stable of structures, which made sense considering their cities still stood after thousands of years. There were no grand arches, no fancy accoutrements for decoration. Everything was straight and stiff, function taking all precedence with form usually coming a very distant second. Of particular interest to her were the Dwemer lighting systems. They were one of the few things where aesthetic appeal had shone, with ornate plates of Dwemer metal surrounding complex gas-burning nozzles, lighting the interior without shedding off too much heat. She glanced at Maximus as he stepped off to the side, examining a Dwemer bust protruding from a stone wall.

Apparently thinking aloud, Maximus asked “What was it with the dwarves and putting their face everywhere? I hear they even put dwarven faces on their machinery. If they worshipped themselves, then it’s no wonder why the Divines gave them the boot.” The Dunmer didn’t answer, simply glancing at the bust before looking away. A quiet tapping sound gained her attention, the Dunmer looking up as a robed figure began to approach her. The priestess was dressed in a cream-coloured, but otherwise plain, robe, with sandals on her feet. The priestess, like all priestesses of Dibella, was an exceptional beauty. Her skin was flawless, her hair was long and smooth, and her crimson lips were plump and inviting. The Dunmer knew that the priestess was aware of Maximus; she saw the woman glance in the Imperial’s direction, and she appeared to be resisting the urge to curl her lip up, most likely for no reason beyond his gender. She smiled at the elf, however, and approached her instead of Maximus. The Dunmer glanced nervously in Maximus’ direction, but when she recalled his order not to speak, she found herself silent. Her eyes going perturbed, she could only briefly consider her growing submission before the priestess had spoken, breaking the Dunmer’s train of thought.

Smiling welcomingly, she said “Hello, you stand in the Temple of Dibella. All women are welcome to worship and learn, and if you don’t mind my saying, I think you’d make an exceptional fit, here. Beauty is, of course, next to godliness.” The Dunmer barely opened her mouth to speak, stammering out a little sound or two, glancing at Maximus. Maximus didn’t respond, still appraising the Dwemer bust. The Dunmer glanced at the priestess, then back to Maximus. Her mouth hanging open a crack, her brow twitched downwards. Was he ignoring them? There was no possible way he hadn’t heard the priestess. Why wasn’t he intervening? Her eyes subtly widened. The Dunmer’s mouth closed once Maximus’ intentions clicked into place. She looked back at the priestess, her eyes then falling to the floor. The priestess merely looked at her for a few seconds, awaiting a response. Eventually, she awkwardly asked “Er...Is everything alright, miss?” The Dunmer took in a slow breath, keeping quiet. A few more seconds passed in an uncomfortable silence. Finally, Maximus turned towards them, a big smile on his face. His eyes had a bit of dark glee in them, exposing the sadistic joy he was taking from the situation.

Walking over, he nonchalantly said “Hey, there. I was wondering if you could help me, actually.” The priestess gave him a clearly disingenuous smile, a little cattily saying “Sir, I was speaking to her, she can answer for herself. And besides, men aren’t really supposed to be in the temple, so if you don’t mind-” Maximus cut her off, grinning a little as he said “Oh, her? Don’t bother, she’s not much of a talker. Isn’t that right, my little elf?” When he came up beside her, he gave the Dunmer a rather firm pat on the tush, making her briefly close her eyes and tense up. The priestess raised her eyebrows, her head tilting back in surprise at the open disrespect. Her expression only went even more stunned when the Dunmer not only failed to say anything, but even failed to give Maximus a disapproving look. The dark elf’s eyes slowly opened, glancing up at the priestess’ legs before her face started to flush.

Maximus looked at the priestess confidently, casually saying “If you don’t mind, we’re looking for a healer. It has to be someone who can be detached for the day, and we might even need them for tomorrow, as well. They’ll be paid well.” The priestess gave Maximus a look of repressed contempt, clearly trying to remain civil as she said “Well, I’m sorry, but we’re not healers of the body, we’re healers of the mind and spirit. The Temple of Mara is in Riften, try there.” Maximus tilted his head forwards, looking up at the priestess. Coolly, he said “We don’t have time to ride all the way to Riften just to get an accursed healer. Surely you can-” Raised voices on the far side of the temple cut him off, distracting them all. The three of them looked across the temple, eyeing a pair of doors on the other side of the temple hall. Voices were almost yelling on the other side, coming closer. A moment later, one of the doors had been shoved open, a matronly woman marching through.

The most immediately noticeable feature of the Nord woman was her immense bosom, heaving and swaying as she crossed the room in an angry huff. She had to have been in her forties, her silver hair and rounded belly gave it away, but that all simply gave her the beauty of a hungering mother. Behind her, there were two other priestesses, one of whom looked rather embarrassed, the other possessing an extremely disappointed expression. Walking into the lobby half-way through her sentence, her robe swishing around her legs as she briskly marched, the matron said “...I don’t care what you think the statuette is shaped like, you do not use it for such petty needs! Gods, have any of the lessons we’ve taught you taken root?” The embarrassed priestess reluctantly dragged her feet as she walked, eagerly squeaking out “Yes, of course, Mother Niven! It’s just, I’ve been stuck in here for so long, and the statuette was so...I-I’m sure Dibella understood!” The head priestess scoffed, then noticed the visitors to the temple. As she almost stumbled to a stop, Maximus’ eyes fell to her chest, watching the woman bounce under her holy garb. Her robes were hardly hiding away her ample curves, a faint smile on Maximus’ face as he mentally undressed the woman.

The head priestess raised her eyebrows, barely smiling at the Dunmer, hardly glancing at Maximus before looking over at the two priestesses who had followed in her wake. Now that they were closer, Maximus could get a clearer look at them. He didn’t pay much attention to the disappointed one, but his eyes certainly homed in on the one feeling uncomfortable. She was a busty one as well, as luck would have it. She didn’t have quite the same full figure as the matron, but she definitely had curves that could turn heads. She was a Nord, judging by her height and fair skin. Her dirty blonde hair hung down over her upper back in a cascading wave, and her eyes were an icy blue quite befitting of her glacial ancestry. Her plump lips were lavender with lipstick, while some black eyeshadow made the blue in her eyes stand out against her creamy skin.

The Dunmer noticed Maximus looking at the priestess, and for some absurd reason unknown to her, it made her uncomfortable. Not for the priestess, she didn’t know the woman and had no reason to care about anything that happened to her, but for herself. She couldn’t put a finger on the reason why, and quickly gave up. It was humiliating enough to feel that way, she didn’t need to rack her brain trying to deduce the precise reason why. Likely, it’d just make her feel even worse. The matron gave the embarrassed priestess a severe look, angrily saying “Don’t think that just because we have guests in the temple, I won’t embarrass you. What you did was tawdry and foolish, and I can’t be having that kind of behaviour. I’m giving you an opportunity to leave of your own accord. If you won’t walk away, then I’ll have no choice but to force you out and tell the others why.” The priestess stuttered and stammered, but the matron merely said “Gods. First Mara, now Dibella. Maybe you’d be better suited serving a less hands-on Divine.” The embarrassed priestess trailed off into silence, her face going red in shame.

Maximus, meanwhile, raised an eyebrow at the mention of Mara. Another opportunity was presenting itself, and he made his move. Casually cutting into the admonishing, he looked at the head priestess and said “Mara, eh? She wouldn’t happen to have any training with healing spells, would she?” The priestesses looked at him, intrigued by his interest. The head priestess gave a dismissive wave towards the embarrassed one, callously saying “I would imagine so. Little good it did her, here.” Maximus smiled slyly, raising an eyebrow. Glancing at the priestess in question, he asked “Well, if you’re getting rid of her, I’ll take her off your hands. I’m working for the Jarl, and I need a healer to look after everyone.” The matron didn’t even have to think. With surprising swiftness, the head priestess briefly threw up her arms, immediately saying “You want her? You’ve got her. I can’t keep her around here, anyway. She’ll defile all of our relics!” The embarrassed priestess’ eyes went wide like saucers, her jaw dropping. Hastily, she said “Y-You can’t be serious! That’s it? You’re just going to drop me into the hands of some stranger?” The head priestess gave Maximus a nod, curtly chirping out “Yep!” The Dunmer woman raised her eyebrows as the head priestess quickly walked away, heading back for the temple’s inner sanctum without a glance backwards. The forsaken priestess glanced at her two fellows present for support, but one of them merely shrugged and walked away, while the other simply sighed in helplessness.

Maximus smiled when the priestess met his eyes. Briefly holding his arms up by his sides, he said “Well, no need to be glum. I’m sure it’ll all work out, in the end. The Divines have their ways.” The priestess sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping. She slowly walked towards him, gazing into his eyes as she said “Maybe. Well...I don’t know what you’re going to get up to, but if you need a healer, then...I was with the Temple of Mara long enough to pick up a few tricks.” Maximus smiled more, giving her a nod. Starting to make his way over towards the temple doors, he said “Good, good. Let’s get a move on, shall we? I’ve still got a few more roles in the group I’d like to get filled.” The priestess stammered momentarily, but once the Dunmer woman began to follow after Maximus, she started moving, as well. Almost nervously, she said “Alright, well, if this is going to take a while, we might as well get introduced. My name’s Svetlana, but you can just call me Lana, if you’d like. Born in Solitude, raised in Markarth.”

Maximus smiled pleasantly, the trio walking out through the doorway and into the light. With a friendly tone of voice, he said “Maximus. Pleasure to meet you, Lana. Wanna tell me why they were so eager to be rid of you?” The sudden personal question made her eyes widen, fresh roses blooming in her cheeks. Politely, she said “I’d...Rather not explain, if that’s alright.” Before Maximus could reply, Svetlana looked at the Dunmer, saying “What’s your name? Are you his wife, or just another member of his group?” The Dunmer opened her mouth to speak, but Maximus answered the questions for her, causing her mouth to quietly close. Holding back a chuckle, he said “Her name’s not important. And rest assured, she is most definitely not my wife...Heh heh. It’s hard to explain, it’s pretty complicated, between us. You wouldn’t be able to understand...Nobody could.” The Dunmer’s eyes strayed off to the side, a slight frown coming over her. Svetlana didn’t notice, merely looking at Maximus in disbelief. Sounding almost offended, she said “Oh, come on. I’m no fool. Try me. Maybe it’s not that people can’t understand, maybe it’s that you’re no good at explaining things.”

A somewhat conniving grin came on Maximus’ face. Slowly, he said “Well, alright...If you insist. I’ll explain later on. Tonight, maybe. In exchange, you tell me why you were kicked out of such a...Laidback temple.” The Dunmer woman subtly looked over, her eyes widening in fear. If Maximus told Svetlana about what had happened between them, she wasn’t sure how she’d react. She might die from the humiliation, she could already imagine the looks of superiority Maximus and Svetlana would both give her, the smug pity as they looked down on her...The silly little Dunmer pickpocket who thought herself so smart, now the broken plaything of some Imperial boy. He was even putting words in her mouth, now, among...Other things. Svetlana hesitantly groaned, then mumbled out “Well...Alright, if you promise to keep it to yourself.” Maximus nodded solemnly, giving the priestess a grave look. The Dunmer woman’s posture became tired, her head beginning to hang down. Her face started to go red, and at the first tingle between her thighs, her cheeks went even darker. Well, there went her final hope for mercy. Maybe Svetlana could help her...Or maybe she’d just get in the way. Only time would tell. Maximus guided the two down towards the Silver-Blood Inn, telling them both that he’d now like to find someone handy with a bow, something he claimed was actually more difficult than would be expected.

Maximus and Svetlana asked around the inn, leaving the Dunmer to sit alone in a corner. Resting with her elbows over the wooden table, she kept her eyes down on the candle burning over the center of her lonely table. More than once had she sighed, thinking of her family. What would her mother say if she could see her, now? Actually, come to think of it, she had a funny feeling her mother would disown her. Her parents had never been the most tolerant of people, and if they knew that she was letting some Imperial control her...While they had hated the Nords the most, they had never been particularly fond of Imperials, either. Perhaps that was where she had picked up her own prejudice. Maybe it was well-placed, considering what Maximus was doing to her. Maybe she was being punished, instead. Wait, did she really just think that she was letting Maximus control her?

She almost jumped when someone nearby abruptly spoke, saying “Hey, there. What’re you doing, all by yourself?” The Dunmer woman looked up at the figure, her eyes going wide like a startled hare’s. It was a Nord, giving her a friendly smile. He held a bottle of mead in either hand, quickly enough holding one out to her. She barely smiled, in relief. Not because he was showing her attention, but because he had pulled her out of her disquieting train of thought. She quickly smiled more, excited at the thought of actually speaking to someone. Maybe she could work her charm, get back in touch with her powers of persuasion. He raised an eyebrow at her, nonchalantly adding “I was supposed to meet a friend here, but it looks like she’s not coming. Must be boring, sitting here all alone. I know I was bored. Here, have a drink.” She raised a hand towards the bottle, letting out a sweet coo. Pleasantly, she said “Oh, thank you, I’m...” She trailed off when she noticed a pair of eyes lingering on her, in her peripheral vision. Glancing over, her blood ran cold when she noticed Maximus. He had been watching her, and judging by the smile on his face, he wasn’t pleased.

The Dunmer woman stammered for a moment, getting out “I, uh...I’m...” The Nord raised an eyebrow curiously, still holding out the bottle. Maximus narrowed his eyes at her, his smile growing wider. The Dunmer swallowed nervously, then mumbled out “...I’m waiting for someone, too. He’ll be here, soon. I’m sorry.” Maximus’ brow sunk, his smile splitting into a grin. Anger was flashing in his eyes. The Dunmer quickly looked at the Nord, her arm dropping down to the table. Hastily, she said “Please, just go away. I’m waiting for someone!” The Nord casually raised his hands, assuming a nonaggressive stance. Clearly a little surprised by her sudden dismissal, he simply said “Hey, alright. Suit yourself.” As he turned and walked away, the Dunmer looked back over to Maximus. He gave his pet elf a wink, then walked off to speak with someone nearby. The Dunmer sighed, quietly. Something told her she’d be in for it, that night. Question was, what would he do to her, this time? More of the same, or...Something a little more personal? She closed her legs almost without thinking, pressing her thighs tight together. If she had a choice in the matter, she’d choose her throat. It was humiliating, but it wasn’t the worst thing he could do. She still had some part of her that was sacred. Of course, it was ultimately his decision...

“Nobody, just as I suspected. In a hold like this, I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised. Archers probably find it easier to work with a place like Whiterun. It’s a lot more open and flat, they can use their bows more effectively.” Svetlana sighed in agreement, standing at Maximus’ right side. They each had a bottle of mead in hand, standing in a shady corner of the inn. It was late, late enough that most of the drunks had either passed out or gone home to do the exact same thing. The Dunmer was sitting alone by the fire, keeping her silence. Maximus had ignored her for the entire day, merely keeping her in sight as he and Svetlana chatted people up about archers. Every now and then, the elf would glance around, perhaps wondering where he was or if he was still watching her. Whenever she’d notice his eyes on her, she’d look away, very poorly trying to hide that she had even been looking around, in the first place. Maximus hadn’t done anything about her behaviour...Yet. In the meantime, he was pleasantly surprised to find out that Svetlana had quite a taste for alcohol. It was probably her Nord blood that did it, but she had already polished off five or six bottles of mead. Maximus was surprised that she was still standing, and was all the more glad that he had denied her earlier challenge to a drinking contest.

Svetlana took a swig from her bottle, then quietly said “I guess the three of us could do it, ourselves. I do have to say, though...I’d feel better if we had more than just the three of us.” Maximus sighed through his nose. “So would I. But, enough about that. We’ll deal with it tomorrow, I suppose. You know, you still haven’t told me what got you kicked out of the temple.” Svetlana’s fair face started to go red, a little laugh coming from her. She brought a hand up over her mouth, lightly saying “Oh, right. Well, you have to promise not to tell anyone.” Maximus grinned confidently. The mead had definitely shot down her inhibitions, something he could easily use to his advantage. Svetlana looked downwards, partially hanging her head down. She twisted a foot around nervously, then leaned towards him. Quietly, her voice wavering with embarrassment, she whispered into his ear. “I, um...I took a statuette of Dibella and...Kind of...Played with myself.” Maximus raised an eyebrow at her, smiling wickedly. Oh, she really shouldn’t have told him that. That was reputation-ruining stuff the likes of which ambitious blackmailers could only dream of. Still, Maximus didn’t make immediate use of it...He’d store it away, for later.

Quietly and incredulously, he exclaimed “Really?” Svetlana nibbled on her bottom lip, looking downwards with an excited glitter in her eyes. Still leaning close to him, she breathed out “Yeah...I mean, it’s not my fault!...They’ve kept me locked up in there for weeks, doing nothing but meditating...And the statuette was long...Thick...Dibella’s head made for a nice tip...I couldn’t help myself, I guess. I just kept seeing it.” Maximus smiled, lightly saying “Being with them was hard on you, huh?” “Like you wouldn’t believe.” She groaned, finishing off her bottle with a few quick gulps. Maximus started to grin. Through his peripheral vision, he could see the Dunmer looking at them. She was staring, obviously curious about what they were up to. Maximus couldn’t pass up the opportunity to make her seethe with jealousy. It’d be even sweeter to call her on her feelings, later on. All in good time.

Leaning a little closer to Svetlana, he spoke quietly into her ear, making sure the Dunmer couldn’t overhear. His smile grew as he said “She likes me, you know. She threw herself at me, the other day. I could barely keep her from clawing my clothes off.” Svetlana glanced at the Dunmer, an open-mouth smile on her face. She laughed quietly, then said “Really? Wow, she looked the type...Aren’t you lucky.” Maximus grinned, whispering out “I guess. She’s not exactly my type, though. I prefer taller girls...She hates you, you know.” Svetlana looked at him in confusion, sounding mildly taken aback as she mumbled out “Oh, really? Why? What did I ever do to her?” Maximus quietly chuckled, clearly amused with his own lies as he said “She has it in her head that you’re a threat. She thinks you’re gonna steal me away from her. Plus, just between you and me?...I think she has a problem with Nords.” Svetlana’s eyes flashed with drunken anger.

Her brow furrowing, she muttered out “Is that right?” Maximus put on a somewhat understanding act, hesitantly saying “You know how it is with those dark elves. It’s not enough that you give them Solstheim, they want Skyrim, too. They don’t appreciate what your people have done for them, they can barely even stand you...Some guests to your beautiful country, huh?” Maximus’ play on her patriotism only sowed more bitterness in Svetlana’s inebriated mind. Under her breath, she muttered out “I always thought that that was just Stormcloak propaganda...But, I saw the way she was looking at me, before. She’s watching us right now, for crying out loud. Shor’s bones, she won’t even talk to me!” Maximus brought a hand up behind Svetlana, laying his hand over the small of her back.

He turned on the charm, murmuring out “I know. She should learn that I don’t belong to her. She should learn that the Nords are good people...Good people win where elves, er, bad people lose. The dark elves all would’ve choked to death in Morrowind if not for the Nords opening their borders, and now they think they own the place! I don’t want to be with someone whose people are that ungrateful...” He stroked his hand down her body, going over the swell of her backside. He gave her a brief kiss on the side of her neck, making her tremble with electric pleasure. She turned her head towards him, her eyes going half-closed, her mouth hanging open a crack. He smiled warmly at her, giving her a wink to make his intentions clear. She smiled eagerly, understanding perfectly. He was almost surprised at how easily he put the fog of lust in her eyes, squeezing her through her robe to get her warmed up. The Dunmer woman watched with widening eyes. First, Maximus kissed her, and Svetlana reciprocated rather eagerly. With one hand behind her, the other shifting in front of her, she stayed still and let him get to work. He pushed the fabric of her robe between her thighs, making her draw in a quiet gasp as he cupped her burning mound through the fabric. In the dark corner of a sparsely populated inn, few people could’ve noticed, and if anyone did, they didn’t disturb them.

She couldn’t help but watch, for several moments. Her eyes began to glaze over, and warmth slowly bloomed between her thighs. She wasn’t sure what she was feeling, there were too many emotions blending together. Some moisture crept up in her eyes, but not enough for tears to trickle down her cheeks. Her face started going dark, but whether it was from embarrassment, shame, or lust was a mystery, even to her. After close to a minute of watching Maximus fool around with Svetlana, one of her hands drifted from the table, her arm slipping under the edge. What in Oblivion was she doing? Slowly, her arm went down between her legs, her hand hovering over her groin. A lingering shred of dignity told her to stop, that she was better than it. Tears rolled down her face as she gave in, planting her hand over her crotch. This was probably what he wanted, anyway. She let out a quiet, shuddering breath, briefly closing her eyes as she started rubbing around at the fabric of her pants, feeling her heat through it. Unluckily enough for her, the innkeeper looked up from polishing a tankard just long enough to notice what she was up to.

A startled frown hitting him, Kleppr’s brow sank, one of his eyes going wide. Indignantly, he called out “Hey! I should call the guards on you! Have some damn decency!” The Dunmer’s eyes went so wide they could’ve popped from her skull. Her face almost went ebony with blush, her jaw dropping in shock. She glanced at Kleppr, then dropped her head down on the table, somewhat immaturely hiding her face by burying it in her arms. Kleppr looked over where she had been staring, noticing Maximus and Svetlana. He was a little more lenient towards Maximus’ actions, Kleppr considering the situation to be the amusing exploits of a lucky man. Despite that, he broke it up. Sounding even more outraged, he called out “Hey! We sell rooms, for crying out loud! Buy one, then make her eyes roll back!” Maximus and Svetlana abruptly broke up their kissing, realizing Kleppr was referring to them. Maximus was grinning to himself, while Svetlana looked flush as she smiled in embarrassment. Under the pretense of straightening her robe, he gave Svetlana one final grab and stroke across the behind. Quietly, he said “We’ll continue this later. I’ll buy us some rooms, but if I don’t share a room with the elf, she’ll get pouty, so...” Svetlana gave him an excited grin, cooing out “I get you, don’t worry about it, heh heh. Give her a spanking for me.” Maximus chuckled darkly. He’d do more than spank her, all right.

After paying out of pocket for a pair of rooms, Maximus passed Svetlana a key and saw her off. It would’ve been nice to only pay for a single room, but he planned on needing ample privacy with the Dunmer woman. Key in hand, he walked over towards her, a little smile on his face. She didn’t look at him, merely glancing in his direction as he approached. His brow furrowed at her sulking, her shamefaced pouting. With apparently genuine warmth, he said “Get up. We’re spending the night, we couldn’t find anyone around here who fit the bill for an archer. We’ll head out in the morning.” The Dunmer woman didn’t immediately comply, sitting there with her eyes down on the table for a moment or two. She eventually rose, however, and followed after him. He smiled to himself. He was rather looking forward to this. Heading down a hallway, he led the elf up to a set of orange-gold Dwemer doors, using his key to unlock the fastening jury-rigged into the metal. He walked in, standing to the side as he waited for her to enter. Once she was inside, the door was shut, locked up tight.

Before she could even look around, his hand was on her chest, lightly pushing her back against the door. She looked into his eyes, a somewhat timid look on her face. Oh, she should’ve known. Spend the night, together? What else could he have meant? She didn’t need a mystic to foretell that she wouldn’t be getting a peaceful night’s rest. Trying not to mumble, she asked “W-What’s wrong?” He narrowed his eyes, almost grinning. Standing quite close to her, she was reminded of their first encounter by the Hall of the Dead as he reached his arm over her shoulder, planting his hand against the door beside her head. Smiling pleasantly, he said “I should be asking you that. You’ve been sulking and moping for hours, now. You’ve been particularly bad the last, oh, ten minutes, or so...” Slowly beginning to grin, his tone dropped to a low tease as he said “It really bothered you, didn’t it? I made a fool of you, and you know it. Did you really hate seeing me get a feel of that Nord? You wouldn’t imagine it, but she’s actually got quite the ass on her. Her robes hide it surprisingly well, but I guess that`s all a part of the temple`s hogwash.” The Dunmer looked off to the side, a sour frown coming on her face. Maximus grinned wickedly at her reaction. Somewhat mockingly, he added “Aw, c’mon...You can say it. You were a little jealous, it’s okay. You hated seeing me touch someone else, didn’t you?...Hm, my little dagger-ears?” Her eyes widened.

Ah, yes. “Dagger-ears”. Quite the potent slur. She had been called insensitive things before, racist things even, but few insults held the same impact as a direct attack on her elven heritage. Her eyes twitched towards his, but she couldn’t manage to make eye contact. Her eyes went for the floor. She tried saying something, anything, but she couldn’t muster up the willpower. A fluttery feeling sprang up in her chest as she swallowed back her emotions, the light feeling sinking down into her stomach. Her face started going a few shades darker. His grin turned to a smug smile. With just barely genuine remorse, he said “Oh, I didn’t mean it like that. Nobody’s ever called you that, before? I meant it in the best way possible, I promise. I didn’t hurt your feelings, did I?” She barely shook her head, avoiding his eyes. Smiling more, he casually asked “You don’t mind if I call you that, every now and then...Do you?” She gave a noncommital shrug, still looking down towards the floor. He smirked arrogantly.

Authoritatively, he said “Alright, enough fun and games. Get naked.” Her eyes darted up to his own. He grinned, turning away from her, walking over towards the single bed in the room. Sitting down on the edge, he started to pull off his boots, giving her an askew look. Matter-of-factly, he said “Well, what did you expect? You still owe me, and since you think I smell so bad, we’ll have to find...Other ways for you to repay me.” Her eyes went wide. She was hasty in trying to change his mind, saying things she’d likely regret. Quickly approaching him, she blurted out “No, n-no, that’s not true! I was exaggerating! You smell fine, I was just being rude, I swear!” Maximus’ grin went wolfish. Darkly, he said “Oh, being rude, were you? That gives me another favour.” Her mouth started hanging open. Her stomach sank. He was still grinning as he opened his legs, his brow sinking as he pointed to the spot down between his feet. Her shoulders slumped. Reluctantly, she started making her way over, sighing heavily. Well, at least he wasn’t making her strip, now.

He gave her a nod, smiling with laughter in his eyes. Chuckling as he spoke, he said “Whoa, whoa, whoa. What’re you doing? I told you to get naked!”

Her heart sank, her face going long. Well, that’s what she deserves, jinxing it like that. She shouldn’t have thought so soon. Giving him an uncomfortable look, she slowly raised her hands to her outfit, nervously searching for fastening and buttons. She looked downwards for a moment, her eyebrows raising. She suddenly pulled her hands away from herself, rapidly shaking her head, whining pleadingly. “Please, don’t make me do it! Ple-” “Do it, damn it. You know you don’t have any other choice.” Maximus ominously said, his brow sinking deep. The Dunmer woman sighed pitifully, then raised her hands back up to her outfit. Quietly, she softly said “Please, just...Don’t be too harsh...” Maximus raised an eyebrow at her, grinning. Silently, her bottom lip pouting a little, she started to slip out of her chest piece. The reinforced leather cuirass was undone, dropped to the floor. Her boots were slipped off, revealing her dainty feet. Her leather leggings were slipped off, exposing her long, smooth, ashen legs. Slowly, she slipped off a black undershirt, leaving herself in a dark green pair of underwear. Maximus smiled pleasantly, humming momentarily as he appraised her. She was the furthest thing possible from a virgin, sex had long been a weapon in her arsenal after all, and yet she found herself self-conscious in front of him. She draped an arm across her bra, slipping a hand down between her thighs. She protectively cupped her own groin, hoping she could shield herself from him enough that he wouldn’t get any more ideas for his favours.

As he looked her up and down, she looked elsewhere, trying to get a sense of what the room was like. It was small, for starters. A few tiny braziers stuck out from the walls, giving the room light and warmth. Tiny orange-gold Dwemer shelves were built into the walls, a few modern accessories sitting over them, including washed tankards and metal plates. The only bed in the room was, like all beds in Markarth, made of stone, mere animal furs for blankets. Maybe the Dwemer had been too obsessed with stability and integrity. After all, sleeping on stone couldn’t have been good for one’s spine. She was snapped out of her observations by Maximus, who lightly chuckled. She met his eyes, looking down at him with concern. Her expression turned uncomfortable. What was so funny about her body that he had to laugh? Maximus leaned back in his seat on the bed, beginning to undo his fauld. A smug little grin on his face, he passively said “Eh...I’ve seen better. I’ve had better. I mean, you’re not ugly, but...You’re so-so.” Nervous butterflies floated around in her stomach, her face darkening as she turned her face away from him. She wasn’t even good enough for him. For him!

Once his leather fauld was completely undone, he carelessly tossed it to the floor. His undergarments were next to go, discarded as he started pulling off his own leather cuirass. The Dunmer risked a glance towards his loins, and she quickly did a double-take at what she saw. He wasn’t even aroused! She was standing there, right in front of him, stripped to her underwear, probably about to reintroduce his third foot to her tonsils, and he wasn’t even the slightest bit stiff! Her face nearly went ebony with shame, her eyes closing as the tingles in her stomach intensified. She really wasn’t good enough for him. Maybe she wasn’t good enough for anyone. Maybe Svetlana was a better match for him. Her eyes snapped open. Wait, what in Nerevar’s name was she thinking? Who cares if she’s not good enough for him! His loss, right? Why would she care? She didn’t care! She was better than this, she was a catch, and she knew it! Her brow started to furrow. She didn’t deserve this, right? He probably hadn’t even needed those Septims! Why was he doing this to her? She should just walk away. The door was right there. By Azura, it was practically within arm’s reach. She could just reach out...Push it open...And walk away. She’d be out of Markarth before he even called the guards.

The rebelliousness growing on her face was wiped clean when he suddenly grabbed her wrists, making her gasp as he pulled her down to her knees. She landed down hard between his thighs, her face nearly crashing into his loins. That wasn’t to say it never would, but it was still a little early for that, right now. Shrugging faintly, he was frowning with amusement, his eyes half-closed. “Well, get to work. It’s not gonna stiffen itself up.” She watched him start to grin confidently, his eyes half-closed as he looked down at her. “Or, heh heh, do I have to teach you how to do it?” The Dunmer swallowed some excess saliva in nervousness. She knew what that meant, and it wasn’t pleasant. She gave a few rapid shakes with her head, silently moving closer to him. Raising her eyebrows, she opened her mouth wide, her tongue reluctantly creeping out from it’s warm, safe hiding place. Her eyes partially closed, she dunked her head deeper into his lap, closing in on her shame. As soon as she tasted skin, her face darkened, her eyes closing. Time to get to work, she supposed. This knob wasn’t going to spit-polish itself, as they say.

She weakly dragged her tongue up his soft length, his taste spreading over her tongue. His musk sank into her nostrils, blood rushing to her head as she felt his loins react. Her ministrations slowly started to get a rise out of him, the Dunmer able to feel him thicken and tense up before rising. She dragged her tongue down to his tip, rapidly flicking it across his most sensitive spot, even going so far as to wrap her lips around him and suckle. He watched her with a grin, holding back a chuckle. “I’ve quite a few favours left. I would tell you to get used to this, but something tells me you already are, heh heh.” Her tongue shot back into her mouth like a cat scrambling out of water. She opened her eyes, looked up at him, and rapidly shook her head. He raised his eyebrows. By the way his grin intensified, he clearly didn’t believe her. “Oh, really? Not even a little bit?” Her brow stubbornly sank, and she shook her head once more. He narrowed his eyes. She flinched when one of his hands suddenly came down over her head, pushing her further down. Her eyes went wide when he pulled her head towards him, pushing her mouth up against the soft flesh of his undercarriage. His musk was even more intense, making a tremble run down her spine. She almost whimpered when the tingles appeared between her thighs, shutting her eyes tight to try and block out the reaction.

“Open your mouth, dagger-ears.” Maximus quietly said, still grinning wolfishly. Whining gently, she did as he commanded, doing as she assumed he would want her to do. She started licking sloppily at his orbs, her nose pressing into the base of his rod as she slathered him with her saliva. She could feel him stiffening up over her forehead, a nervous fluttering appearing in her stomach. He chuckled darkly, watching her use her tongue to try and pull his orbs into her mouth. Smugly, he teased her with “Hah, you’re licking just like a dog. Plus, I didn’t even have to tell you to do anything. You’re loving this, aren’t you?” Her eyes went wide, her face going ebony with blush. She let out a whimper, shaking her head. Of course, the gesture was more or less meaningless, considering she had his whole satchel in her mouth. He narrowed his eyes at her refusal, his grin going from ear to ear. He grabbed her by the back of her head, pulling her as hard as he could into his groin, making her teeth press up against him while her cheeks bulged with his undercarriage. She gasped through her nose, opening her eyes. Her eyes crossed as she focused on his lengthy pole, throbbing over her face. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling her head back until his orbs popped free from her hungry mouth.

Pulling her head back, he forced her to look up at him, his meaty sabre jutting up in her peripheral vision. Breathing a little hard, her mouth hung open as she looked at him, just waiting to be stuffed up. He leaned over far, bringing his face near her’s. His grin turned into a smug smile, laughter exploding in his eyes. Barely keeping himself from using an openly mocking tone, he muttered out “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that it’s not good, being dishonest with yourself? Get your ass on the bed, dagger-ears. Lie down and get comfortable.” She rapidly blinked, a few times. Her mouth closing, a nervous look grew on her face. Reluctantly, she crawled away from between his legs, pulling herself up on to their bed.. She had no idea what to expect, but she readily complied with his demands, despite the nervous twisting in her stomach. Lying down in the center of the bed, she rested her head over one of their fur pillows, watching him uneasily. Maximus reached over the edge of the bed, grabbing something. Before she could react, he had turned towards her, iron dagger in hand. She held her breath, her eyes going wide. He smiled at her, bringing the dagger up to her chest. She felt the cool blade slip under the front strap of her bra, between the cups. He pulled up, twisted the blade, and split the undergarment open.

Her bottom lip started to pout, her lips twisting into an embarrassed frown. She shut her eyes tight, unable to watch. He grinned, dropping the dagger over the edge of the bed. He smacked both cups of her bra with the backs of his hands, knocking them open. She closed her eyes once she was exposed. Her panties started hugging to her, warmth blooming down below. She felt him move, getting over her. To her surprise, he didn’t pull her legs open, he didn’t grab her panties. She breathed a sigh of relief, but it was short-lived. If he didn’t want her down there, that meant only one thing. Her prediction came true as he crawled upwards along her body, chuckling just before something hot and hard prodded into her cheek. She whined again, raising her eyebrows. He ordered her to open her mouth. When she shook her head, he reached behind himself. Grinning with wide eyes, he smacked his hand down between her thighs, giving her a good little swat directly over her groin. Her eyes popped open, her mouth opening as she sucked in a gasp. Before she could cry out in pain, he bolted forwards, shoving himself down her gullet in one harsh movement.

She opened her eyes, looking up at him desperately. He slowly started to laugh, his eyes widening in surprise. He gave her mound a few more pats, touching the damp fabric. She shut her eyes tight, tears welling up. He let out a short, hysterical laugh, then loudly said “You little slut! I can’t believe you’re getting wet, from this! Your panties are getting fucking soaked!” She whined loudly against his pulsing rod, trying to twist her hips so he couldn’t touch her. He slipped his hand away from her, and in exchange, he grabbed her head, again. He pulled her towards his hips, making her tense up as his tool stuck down her throat. She felt him pull a second pillow beneath her head, giving her some more support while keeping her mouth angled towards him. When he released her, she felt his hands go to the pillows, on either side of her. He shifted his knees, bracing himself into a thrusting position. Her eyes opened wide in fear. Maximus grinned down at her, loudly saying “Here it comes, you little elf whore!” She mumbled against him, begging him not to go through with it. He laughed again, pulling his hips back, making her twitch against the bed when he suddenly thrust back into her throat. “What’s that you said? Sorry, I can’t quite hear you, madame! You seem to have my pecker pluggin’ your pipe!” Maximus roared with laughter, mercilessly starting to thrust into her face.

She shut her eyes tight, praying to the gods for strength. Strength was swapped out for oxygen, every now and then. Were Azura, Mephala, or Boethia watching? More than likely, and they were probably laughing at her, just like Maximus was. Trapped under him, her face reduced to a hole, she was robbed of everything, made only to serve under him...Quite literally, now that she thought about it. He laughed to himself, feeling her squirm underneath him. His hips pumping back and forth before her face, he felt her lips slide along his shaft, pressing down tight around him. Sweat was beading on her forehead from being so vigorously used, the Dunmer doing everything in her power to keep her throat relaxed. Maximus growled, deepening his thrusts until his undercarriage started slapping against her chin.

“Choke on it, you little fucking slut! Taste it! If you had been honest from the start, this wouldn’t have happened! But you wanted this, didn’t you? Damn dagger-ear whore, I’m gonna fuck you until you’re blue in the face!”

Drool crept from the corners of her mouth. She squirmed, pressing her legs tight together as her knees trembled. She grabbed his legs, whimpering for air. Her eyes started rolling back as his thrusts went even deeper, Maximus moving in until he was humping her face. She gave a few little kicks with her legs, digging her nails into his skin. Now her face was darkening from something other than humiliation. Maximus, drunk on power again, loudly said “If I pull back, it’ll only be to hear the truth! Tell me you love it! Tell me you want it!” She nodded as best she could. He pulled his hips back, finally dislodging his battering ram from her poor, vulnerable throat. Her mouth hanging open, she gasped in air, her chest swelling and plummeting with every gulp of air. Maximus gave her hardly three seconds before he nearly yelled out “Not quick enough, dagger-ears!” The Dunmer’s eyes went wide, one last gasp getting sucked in before she ended up sucking in Imperial mace.

She was unsettled by how steady his breathing was, by how he didn’t even seem to be sweating. He was practically bellowing as he said “This is for the White-Gold Tower! By Ysmir, you’re swallowing White-Gold Tower! Hah hah hah!” Her legs trembled, her thighs squeezing together even harder. She couldn’t let him win! Her heart was pounding, desperate for oxygen. Her head swimming, she slapped his legs, begging for another chance. He chuckled darkly, stalling for a moment or two before granting her wish. He pulled his hips back one last time, exposing his meaty invader to the air. Spit was covering her chin, dribbling from the corners of her mouth. Strings of saliva stretched out between his drenched rod and her wide-open mouth, an embarrassing reminder of her role as a receptacle. He mocked her with his casual tone. “Yes, my little elven fuckhole?”

Panting hard, her eyes shut tight, she whimpered out “Please stop...Don’t make me do this...Don’t make me say that!...I’ll just die!” Maximus let out a curt sigh, grinning widely. He readied his hips, about to plunge himself back into her insolent yapper. She panicked, hastily giving in. Her eyes glazed as she told him what he wanted to hear. “I...I love it! I love it, so much! I love everything about it, I wanna do it...A-All the time! I can’t get enough of you!” Maximus laughed. Her tone quieting, she mumbled pitifully, giving him a weak look. “Please, don’t do it...Let’s stop, here...I can’t take much more...” Maximus gave her a wild, wide-eyed look. Loudly, he said “Why?! You just said you loved it! You’re finally being honest! If you love it, why should I stop?” Her eyes went wide as he shoved himself back home, her body tensing up as he punched the back of her throat. Her eyes rolled back, her thighs rubbing hard together. Her panties were bothering her to no end, hugging tight to her burning, leaking slit. The flutters in her stomach made teardrops roll from the corners of her eyes. His breathing was finally getting ragged, which was a mixed blessing. On one hand, he’d be done soon, and on the other, he’d be done, soon. Was he going to coat her face, again? What in Nerevar’s name was he going to do? Was he going to make her drink it?

Maximus laughed briefly, loudly saying “Did someone order some cream? Here comes a whole glassful!” Her eyes went wide. All of it?! He had coated her whole face, before! How was she supposed to drink it all?! What would it taste like? Gods, she really was just his elven slut! The tingles in her stomach magnified threefold, and her legs suddenly thrust out against the bed. Her lower body reared up, thrusting her groin into the air. The front of her panties had already been dark with moisture before, but as she raised her hips up, her panties abruptly became positively soaked. A few trickles of tears ran from her eyes, a heavy sob coming from her. A second later, he grunted, and ichor suddenly squirted against the back of her throat. The thick, syrupy substance ran straight down her gullet, giving her no choice in the matter. Her hips twitched and quivered, sweat running down her ashen face. He groaned happily, thrusting into her face a few more times, streams and spurts of thick, rich seed hitting the back of her throat. She felt him shudder in euphoria, grinding his tool around in her mouth as the jets of seed tapered off. He pulled back until he was no longer stuffing her throat, keeping only a few inches in her mouth. Looking down at her with a smile, he ordered her to clean him off, to lick up and swallow every last drop. She gazed up at his eyes as she silently suckled, slowly running her tongue around at him, rubbing her stretched lips around the end of his pole. Maybe if she did a good job, he wouldn’t be so rough, next time...

She ran her tongue along his hot skin, milking his tip with her lips until every last drop had leaked out. She swallowed numerous times, feeling his heat coat her throat as it ran down. Maximus grinned playfully, chirping out “You should rest easy, now. Didn’t your mother ever tell you that a sticky throat helps you sleep? No? Huh. Well, now you know!” She closed her eyes, giving his tip several kisses before he finally withdrew. She lay there, a sweating, panting, tear-streaked mess, her mouth hanging wide open as she breathed in sweet, sweet air. He got off of her a moment later, and as soon as he did, she rolled over on to her side. She kept her legs tight together, trying to hide the humiliating mess she had made. Just thinking about the whole situation made her face burn!

Maximus laid down beside her, sighing with contentment. The lights in the room dimmed, slowly swallowing the room in darkness. A hand was suddenly shoved down the back of her panties, fingers unceremoniously plunging between her cheeks. Her body went tense, and her eyes snapped wide open. She twitched and quivered as two fingers firmly rubbed around over her tight rosebud, making her puckered little entrance squeeze all the more tightly to keep him out. Maximus hummed thoughtfully, but he said nothing, ominously enough. He eventually withdrew his hand, letting out an evil little chuckle. She shut her eyes tight, burying her face into her pillow. Gods, not that! Anything but that! She’d swallow a hundred horses’ loads before she let him do that! Her face and crotch both burning, she tried her best to fall asleep, offering up a few last prayers to the gods in the hopes that Maximus wouldn’t find some clever way to wake her up, come sunrise...
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The Forsworn Retribution