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Tavern Cat Tales	By : C0yot372I Category: +A through F > Elder Scrolls - Skyrim Views: 11596 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own TES, Skyrim, or Bethesda. I do not aim nor will be making any money in the publishing of this fan-based work. Please support the official release.

Chapter List
- 1-Enter Our Heroes... Sort Of
- 2-Tale of Victory... and Embarassment
- 1
- 2
It was now the early morning rush, and S’Tatima was busy handing out breakfast to all the patrons who were either guests last night, or just simply there for the food. Either way it was busy, and in the hustle and bustle, the Khajiit barmaid was soon losing track of who had what and how much gold passed between her and the lockbox that her boss had behind the counter. The door to the inn opened, and S’Tatima almost thought nothing of it until she saw the furred tail sticking out from under the cloak, along with Irileth, the Jarl’s housecarl.
“So Irileth, you fought the dragon at the Western Watchtower, didn’t you?” one of S’Tatima’s many patrons asked. Almost immediately, the entire inn went silent as everyone focused on the Dunmer warrior, who picked up a mug of mead from a generous donor. Irileth looked over to the still hooded Khajiit next her, who simply nodded in seeming exasperation.
“As all of you know, I led a small contingent of our guards to investigate the Western Watchtower yesterday,” she said, a nearby bard writing everything down in a hurry. “We had managed to reach the tower without incident when we saw signs of dragon attack. I was in the middle of questioning Raol when the dragon reappeared and attacked us.”
“What was it like? The dragon?” someone else asked in awe. Irileth would have answered had her fellow guest not chose that moment to interrupt.
“It was a dragon, what else would one expect?” the Khajiit rebutted, taking a apple off the table… before sliding a few Septims down onto it. “It had scales, hard as iron and fire to make the sword in your hand burn.” S’Tatima noticed that the Khajiit spoke with a maiden’s accent, only hers was more hard, as if life had gotten to her. “We barely managed to make a dent in the scales when it was on the ground, and once it took wing, well, there was not much we could do from there.”
“But then that travelling companion of yours leapt to attack it like a true hero for Sovengarde!” a guard cried out, possibly already drunk. S’Tatima rolled her eyes. Nords and their obsession with a glorious death. Didn’t anyone want just a normal death these days? “Where is your friend anyhow? This would be a tale best spoke from his lips!”
“Uuurrrgghhhh….”
The inn’s attention was shifted over to Gabe, whom S’Tatima noticed was tired, groggy, and not all that happy. “Speak of the daedra, there he is!” the guarded said loudly, moving to slap Gabe on the back. “Say friend, regale us with your tale of slayAACK!” The moment the guard’s hand landed on Gabe’s right shoulder, the young human wrapped his arm around the guard, his leg shot out, tripping the guard off balance, and from there, the guard’s head soon driven into the wall with a loud THUD!
Irileth immediately drew her sword, only for Gabe to hold up a hand. “Look, I’m tired, I’m irritated, and I’ll be more than happy to spend my stay in the dungeons later,” he cut in. “But I’m hungry, and I fucking need coffee right now.” S’Tatima gulped.
“Khajiit must ask, what is coffee?” she inquired, only to have Gabe groan in defeat.
“…fffuuuuuuuucccCKKKKKK,” he moaned, sitting down at the bar. “Fine, you got anything with a shitload of fucking sugar in it?” Wordlessly, S’Tatima whipped together a drink she usually reserved for the worst hangovers, and proceeded to simply hand it and the bowl of sugar to Gabe. Sighing, he shook a good chunk of the sugar into the drink before taking a dagger out and… sweet Aedra, was he actually stirring his drink with that?! Setting the dagger down, Gabe drank the concoction down without a change of expression as the inn watched in trepidation.
“…it’ll work.”
“So, the dragon,” a patron inquired slowly. “What did you do to it?” Gabe closed his eyes as he recalled just what had happened.
[][][]
Gabe had honestly dreaded fighting Mirmulnir for a very good reason. One, he was already a crap fighter as it was. Facing a dragon was just adding to the sheer pile of bullshit he had had to deal with so far in the past few days. Draugr he could handle, they were already dead. After his first dead Imperial Legionnaire trying to kill him, he had had his puke fest somewhere between the cave and Riverwood, so he was good on that front.
But trying to throw a fireball at a dragon on the ground while it was trying to bite your head off was something he didn’t want to deal with at all. So, in an attempt at leveling the playing field a bit, he had entered the watchtower and ascended to the top, hoping to get a good angle. Almost as if the heavens above were mocking him, the dragon had apparently decided that the tower made a good place to avoid archers on top of the tower to attack the rest of the guards and Ashana with impunity.
Gabe took inventory of what he had to use. He had one ancient Nordic sword, two iron daggers, a pickaxe, an iron flask, some charcoal, saltpeter, and a healthy amount of what Gabe could only assume was liquid hell. He couldn’t pull off any substantial magic, and his skill with a bow was nonexistent. Oh, and he had rope.
Joy.
Hearing Mirmulnir shout for fire, Gabe looked over and saw Ashana cowering behind some rocks, the stone taking the bulk of the heat from the dragon’s attack. “I’ve got to be out of my fucking mind,” he muttered as he pulled out the rope. Looping it around his waist, he did the best he could to secure his sword tightly with the rope and gulped.
“What are you doing?!” asked one of the guards as Gabe backed up from the ledge, his sword in hand and pointing downward as the dragon began to take wing.
“Something stupid,” Gabe commented dryly as he sprinted forward, his goal in sight.
As expected, Mirmulnir did not react well to the sharp prick that signaled a sword cutting into his hide. He also was furious that the interloper would ever have the stupidity of stabbing him in the back. And what drove the insanity even further was the feeling of something trying to slash away at the base of his mighty wings!
[][][]
“So, why didn’t you send a fireball down the dragon’s mouth?” the bard asked, interrupting the tale. “You had the perfect spot!”
Gabe turned to look at the bard with a look that could curdle mead. “And why in the bloody blue fuck-balled hell would I willingly go anywhere near a dragon’s mouth?” he asked rhetorically. “Are you fucking stupid, or has that lute fucked you up the ass so many times you forgot to drop a pair and get some common sense?” The inn flinched at the insult, with one man chortling.
“And you kiss your mother with that mouth? She must think you a hellion!” he declared. S’Tatima saw Gabe smirk, and she knew without a doubt what was coming.
“Not what your sister said last night,” he countered, taking a sip from his… drink. The Khajiit known as Ashana snickered as the Nord stood still, shocked at the surprising verbal counter.
“Now, as I was saying,” Gabe continued….
[][][]
Gabe had always wanted to fly on the back of a dragon. He just wasn’t exactly planning on that dragon trying to bite, claw, scorch, or throw him off in an attempt to kill him. Which was something along his line of thought as Mirmulnir flew up high above the Western Watchtower in an attempt to just get rid of human. He was sure that the dragon was cussing him out, but with his very poor grasp on the dov tongue, Gabe couldn’t really be sure.
One buck of the hips later, and he was dislodged from his spot on Mirmulnir’s back and was now dangling precariously off the dragon’s approximate waist location. Now thoroughly terrified, Gabe pulled out a dagger, looked behind him, and prayed to all the angels and saints, to Saint Joseph, Holy Mary, Jesus, and God that what he was about to do wouldn’t end up killing him in an embarrassing manner, and stabbed.
[][][]
“And that was how I brought him back down to the ground,” Gabe said. By now, it seemed that half of Whiterun was in the lobby of the inn, paying attention to every word spoken from Gabe’s lips. In the back, a lone solemn figure stepped forward and spoke.
“And where was it that you stuck the dragon?” Jarl Balgruff asked gruffly, surprising everyone. And earning an irritated eye roll from Irileth. Gabe drew his face back in an embarrassed grimace, hesitant to answer.
“Well…,” Gabe drew out. “I’m sure that if the dragon wanted hatchlings, he wasn’t going to be getting them anytime soon.” All the men in the room hissed as they reacted appropriately.
“You mean you-“
“Yep.”
“And it actually-?”
“Yep.”
[][][]
Mirmulnir cried out in agony as he plummeted from the sky, his wingtips trying to cover the most grievous wound and indignity he had ever suffered in millennia. This also had the unintentional, but not unappreciated, side effect of protecting Gabe from the worst of the dragon’s impact into the hard ground below right next to the watchtower. The guards were, as a matter of course, stunned at this new development. After all, what would make a dragon simply drop out of the sky like that?
Their answer came as Gabe crawled away from the bulk of the dragon, looking more than haggard. He managed two paces before he dropped to the ground and vomited. Ashana however was not one to leave a chance like this leave. Pulling her bowstring as far back as she could, she took careful aim at the dragon’s head as it scrambled up, and after holding her breathe, let the arrow fly. The arrow flew straight and true, striking at a critical juncture between neck scales, and the dragon’s eyes flew wide as his scales started burning off.
“Dovahkin… Nid!”
[][][]
“And that folks is how the dragon died,” Gabe finished, his cup of… whatever now mostly empty. All around him, the patrons whispered amongst themselves. “And no, I’m not the Dovahkin,” he added, sensing the direction their discussion was going. “I’m too much of self-centered ass to be a hero like that. But, if you want to see her….” He paused, allowing everyone to focus on him before Gabe shrugged. “She’s sitting right there,” he finished, pointing at the only other Khajiit besides S’Tatima in the whole inn.
Ashana looked tired of the attention, or at least that’s what S’Tatima assumed as the Khajiit shrank into herself as the inn erupted into chaos. The next hour devolved into a blur as the barmaid went about her business, coin and mead and food changing hands in equal hurried measure. When S’Tatima finally caught a break close to noon, she saw that Gabe was sitting at the same table as Ashana, talking to her in hushed tones. While it wasn’t really her business… well, S’Tatima could always trust another from Elyswer, even if her fur looked somewhat fairer than hers.
“Can Khajiit help you two dragonslayers?” she inquired, walking up to them. Gabe and Ashana shared a look as the other Khajiit spoke.
“S’Ashana does not wish for trouble,” Ashana stated, shaking her head. “But, if Khajiit has need of work to be done, then perhaps this one can be of some help?” S’Tatima looked down at them and sighed.
“This one does not have work, no,” she commented as she looked them over. “But, Khajiit thinks that the Jarl, or those close to him, may have work for you as well. If not, one need only ask around, S’Tatima is sure.” Gabe nodded from his spot beside Ashana.
“Well, this one thanks you for your help,” he told her, slipping into the Khajiit pattern of speech much to S’Tatima’s delight. And to Ashana’s, if S’Tatima’s quick observation of the other Khajiit’s reaction told her anything. “Ashana, I’ll be around, so if you need me, well…, ah, fuck it, I’m not that hard to find.” He stood up, sliding a couple of Septims towards S’Tatima. “For the excellent service.”
S’Tatima beamed at the human as he stood up to leave alongside the other Khajiit. “This Khajiit wishes you warm sands,” she called out. Gabe nodded in appreciation as he left the Bannered Mare. Sighing, S’Tatima shook her head as she picked up the gold, sliding the coins into the small coin purse on her belt. By the Nine, he was… certainly something else.
[][][]
Gabe hissed as he slapped a poultice on his side, the flesh on his side dark with bruising. He had gone to Jorrvasker to see if any of the Companions could perhaps train him to better use a sword. They had, understandably, laughed in his face and told him to go home.
In retrospect, throwing an apple at Vilkas’ head was probably not the smartest thing he could have done in recent memory.
But, on the plus side, he wasn’t dead, and he would be learning how to swing a sword properly under the Nord’s stern tutelage. But for now, he was sitting outside Whiterun’s walls trying to patch himself up. “One wonders if you know the value of basic potions.” Gabe looked up to see the smirking face of Ashana looking down at him.
“Har har, laugh it up,” he commented sarcastically as she tossed him a small phial. “Those things stitch up gashes, not bruises. Also, they feel weird.” The Khajiit rolled her eyes as she sat down next to him, taking his poultice mixture away from him.
“Ashana knows,” she told him, her posture growing as stiff as her tail as her eyes lost some of their inner fire. “But Khajiit has gotten used to them.” Silence between the two.
“Ashana… what did you do before coming here?” Gabe asked her. Yeah, she was his preferred Skyrim character, but that didn’t leave much to be said given the lack of backstory to ANY Elder Scrolls protagonist. The Khajiit chuckled humorlessly.
“Ashana thinks… that is a story for another time,” she told him, pulling out a roll of linen. Catching the wary look of her recent traveling companion, she rolled her eyes. “Khajiit had it cleaned,” she muttered, rolling the fabric around his torso. “Now hold your arms up.” Gabe did so dutifully, and yawned while she finished.
“Well, I don’t quite have the gold to afford another night at the inn,” he told her, putting his armor back on. “You have any ideas?” Ashana smirked coyly as her tail flicked wildly behind her. “That does not involve you trying to molest me in my sleep?” Gabe added in frustration. The Khajiit laughed as she removed a bedroll from her pack.
“Ashana? Molest? Never!” she retorted playfully, twisting about to biff Gabe in the face with the tip of her fluffy tail. “Khajiit merely wanted to show her appreciation for you helping her!”
“Uh huh, sure,” Gabe deadpanned monotonously as he pulled out his own bed roll. “Keep telling yourself that.” Ashana smiled as she removed the heavy steel vest of her armor.
“Of course! Means Ashana was right all along!” Gabe groaned as placed a small log in the makeshift fire pit. With a flick of his wrist, he sent a small burst of flame into the pit, lighting the wood on fire. “…Khajiit must ask, will you accompany her to High Hrothgar?” she asked after a few minutes of companionable silence. Gabe sighed.
“I cannot,” he told her. “I’m learning how to fight from the Companions, and I don’t want to be the reason that you die.” Ashana looked at him, stunned. Sliding out of her bedroll, the Khajiit moved over and sat next to the human, putting an arm around him. Gabe accepted the hug, only to flinch slightly as Ashana started purring, rubbing her face along the side of his neck. “Umm, uh, Ashana, what are you doing?” he asked slowly, confused as hell at the Khajiit. Ashana looked at him from the corner of her eyes.
“Gabe, you need to relax,” she purred to him through half-lidded eyes, her whiskers tickling the underside of Gabe’s chin. Like a fish, Gabe could only open and close his mouth in utter confusion as she turned him in place, hands straying to the straps of his armor. “Why are you so tense? Has it been to long since you laid with a woman?” Ashana asked teasingly, deftly removing the hardened leather chest piece off of him.
Gabe gulped as he tried to stammer out his response. “A-a-a-a-shana, I-I-I-I uh, umm, uh,” he murmured as one of her hands tossed the armor off to the side, the leather landing somewhere in the vicinity of his pack. The Khajiit, meanwhile, in a display of incredible leg control, lifted her leg up and over to ensure that she straddled his waist. Gabe’s face went beet red as he sweat, his voice cracking as Ashana slowly ground against him. “I haven’t….”
“Haven’t what?” A furred hand traced its way done his side before catching on the edge of his pants. Gabe shuddered.
“I haven’t… actually…um… well, you know, umm….”
Ashana suddenly stopped her activities, her eyes wide in surprise. All of a sudden, the human’s responses to her flirtations over the past few days suddenly made so much sense to her now. “You’ve… never been with a Khajiit before?” she asked, suddenly curious. Gabe gulped as he looked away in embarrassment.
“…women in general.”
Ashana stood still, her body still straddling and pinning the young man below her in place. Slowly, a calming smirk grew on her face as Ashana leaned in close to Gabe, gently cupping his face with her hand. “Gabriel, do you like Ashana?” she asked him. “Be honest, Khajiit won’t be offended.” Gabe looked up at her shyly, his normally stoic and sarcastic demeanor gone to the four winds.
“I, uh, um, admit to being frustrated at being so close to you, yeah,” he stated. “I mean, you’re fucking gorgeous, and, umm, uh, shit, I uh, well Ashana, I uh-“ Ashana put a finger over his lips, silencing the nervous human.
“Gabriel, what do you know of Khajiit?”
“Uh, species wise or-“
“Of me.” Ashana looked at him, her golden-green eyes staring deep into his near forest green ones. Gabe gulped.
“I… can’t say,” he stammered. “You’d think I was crazy, or a monster.” Gabe looked away, trying not to stare at his companion’s rather enticing cleavage. “Can we, uh, save it for another time? You know, when things AREN’T so, uh, um, uh, you know, umm, awkward?” Ashana took a deep breath as she contemplated his words.
“Ashana will hold you to those words,” she said finally. “But you do need to be more… used to a woman’s charms, no? Perhaps so you can better bed S’Tatima?”
“Wha-?” Gabe breathed out, paling. Ashana giggled as she leaned back, pulling her undershirt off, revealing her bust to him.
“Ashana is not clueless. Ashana saw the looks you gave her, and Ashana approves. S’Tatima does look to be a respectable Khajiit,” she said, licking her lips and purring. “Almost makes Khajiit want to bed her as well. But for now, Ashana has you all...,” she reached behind her back, grabbing the knot of her bra.
“To,” she pulled the knot apart. Gabe’s eyes went wide.
“Herself,”Ashana finished. Gabe felt something under Ashana stiffen madly as he gazed up at her, his throat suddenly dry. Ashana grinned. “Tonight, Ashana will show you just how a Khajiit shows affection.
[][][]
Shit, it’s been so long since I wrote for this, I almost forgot about it! Either way, here’s some more human on khajiit action!
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Tavern Cat Tales