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The Line Begins to Blur	By : VirusVescichetta Category: +A through F > Elder Scrolls - Skyrim Views: 61884 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: Look at the URL. Now back to the disclaimer. Now the URL. Back to the disclaimer. Sadly, I don't own Skyrim or make money off it, but you can now read a story that's written as though I did. And yes, I just wasted a mod's valuable time.

Chapter List
- 20
- 21
- 22
The ringing of my hammer distantly rang in my ears while I pondered what it would be like to wipe sweat from my brow. Smithing a broadsword for myself had more than warmed me against Skyrim's chill air. I had been rather taken with wielding Farkas's and had decided on crafting one similar rather than replacing my longsword. The money made on the job had been more than enough to spare some for making it from the same alloy as my chainmail. The blade was proving to be quite light, for its size, though there was certainly more heft than I was used to.
I looked up from my work when the trudge of footsteps reached my ears. "Enjoying yourself?" Adrianne asked as she rounded the corner of her shop.
Her words made me aware of my smile. "I should hope so. This is infinitely less hazardous than what I usually do with my time," I laughed and returned to my sword. "This is a lot harder to work with than steel, I'll say that. It goes from solid to liquid in no time."
"Why do you think I don't work with it?" she chuckled. "I could never get the heat quite right. I'm quite impressed at how ably you've picked it up. You're a talented blacksmith."
"Thanks," I said earnestly. "You're still a lot better with steel than I am, though."
"I can't claim to be the best in town. Eorlund Grey-Mane has that title. The man's steel is legendary," she raised an eyebrow at me while she set to work. "Come to think of it, you're in the Companions now, aren't you? You're likely to meet him."
"I told you I joined the Companions?" I shot her a quizzical glance. I had been at her forge since my return my Shimmermist Grotto the day before but I couldn't recall telling the woman of my newest occupation.
Adrianne shook her head. "Word travels quickly," she explained.
"Faster than me, apparently," I shrugged. "I guess there are worse things for people to hear about me, though."

The next day saw me in Kodlak's study, in the basement of Jorrvaskr. "Where did you learn to play chess?" the older man asked as he eliminated my second rook with his black bishop.
I responded first by removing his piece with a knight he had apparently not taken notice of behind a line of pawns. "An uncle back in Black Marsh," I replied with a shrug and flicked my eyes across the new board state. "We used to play four or five times a week, actually. I don't rightly recall what our record was by the time I left, but I have a feeling that I was on the losing side."
"So far you're the toughest opponent I've had to face here," Kodlak chuckled and narrowed his eyes at the pieces before him. "You're quite fond of your knights, if a bit reckless."
I frowned when he claimed one of said pieces. "In my opinion, they're the most versatile pieces I have," I shrugged easily. A short exchange of pawns between us over the next few turns cleared the board somewhat, but I couldn't help but notice it left his side far more congested. "After all, their movement isn't stopped by any other pieces. They have excellent mobility, if you can figure out how to move them around. They also can't have an attack blocked," I demonstrated by sneaking my remaining knight behind his last rook. "Check."
His lips quirked in a small smile. "That's true," he nodded and moved his king back to a space inaccessible to my knight. I took the opportunity to slide a pawn further towards his back wall. The area of the board was uncontested and it only had one more move to make it.
"Farkas said you used some strange power at Shimmermist," he remarked casually as we shuffled our units around the board. "He said it sounded like you were Shouting."
"Shouting? How ridiculous. I'd have to be the Dragonborn or something to have a power like that," I scoffed.
"That would explain why a native of Black Marsh knows about Nord legend," he nodded and finally removed my back pawn. The bishop he used to do it also happened to now threaten my king. "Check."
I frowned at the board with the realization that I had lost in a maximum of four turns with the way he had pinned my king in. I sighed and shifted the piece back, anyway. "I'm really nothing too special, I assure you. Just a lizard that likes to get into trouble."
"Who also happens to be a legendary hero," he chuckled and we played out the game.
I shook my head. "I'm pretty sure I need to actually do something to be a hero. So far all I've done in Skyrim is random odd jobs as a mercenary."
"How old are you, Kailev-Tel?" Kodlak asked as he put away his chess set.
"Twenty-five years, born in Mid Year. Why do you ask?"
"I just wanted to show that you're still young. You have plenty of time to make a hero of yourself, yet. Tiber Septim didn't unite Tamriel by your age," he explained.
I couldn't help but grin. "I can't help but feel there are people who'd think it's nearly sacrilegious to compare an Argonian to Tiber Septim," I said as we stood and headed for the door of his study.
"Without a doubt, but not every Nord is Ulfric Stormcloak," he smiled in clear amusement.
"I've actually met the man twice," I felt at ease enough with Kodlak to tell him something of myself. "The first time we were both getting our heads chopped off by the Empire in Helgen when a dragon burned the place to the ground, and the second time he didn't remember me." I grabbed my sword on our way past and slung the strap over my shoulder. I didn't care much for having the monstrosity strapped to my back, though I did wonder how long it was going to take before the strap broke and I lost the sword. I knew it to be inevitable since I had specifically made it to be hard to break.
Kodlak's eyebrow quirked curiously at my admission. "What did you do to get executed?" he asked.
"I crossed the border at a bad time and the Empire doesn't like to sort their paperwork out," I shrugged. "I got caught in an ambush to capture Ulfric and the officer in command at Helgen was a bitch who didn't like Argonians or something. In any case a dragon showed up when they were about to give me a bad haircut and tore the place apart."
"Could it have been there for you, Dragonborn?"
This time it was my turn for a quirked eyebrow. "I never said I was the...Dragonborn," I replied casually, though I almost choked when I cut myself short of saying "Dovahkiin". I coughed, both to cover up the slip and due to my need to cough after the vocal hiccup. It was becoming troublesome to get my languages sorted.
"If you aren't the Dragonborn, then how do you explain what Farkas witnessed at Shimmermist Grotto?" he pressed.
I sighed and scratched the back of my head. "I never said I wasn't Dovahkiin, either," I shrugged again, reluctantly allowing the slip. "I'm just not much of a fan of people finding out about that. Although I'll admit that it was very satisfying to see Ulfric's face when he found out."
"I don't mean for it to seem like I'm pressuring you into telling me. I'm just curious about our newest recruit," Kodlak assured me. "Learning that you're the Dragonborn doesn't change the fact that you're still a whelp around here, boy."
I was extremely certain he was the first person in my life to ever refer to me as "boy". "I can take comfort in that," I nodded, satisfied with his response to learning of my status.
Aela descended the stairs from the main hall just as we passed the barracks. "I hope I'm not intruding Kodlak, but I have a job for Kailev-Tel," she said with a respectful bow of her head to the man.
"Not at all. We had just finished our game," he gestured to me. "It was good to have a match with you, Kailev-Tel. We'll have to have another sometime."
I agreed and left with Aela. "So what adventure do you have in store for me?" I asked with a chuckle as we ascended the stairs.
"A wolf has gotten trapped in someone's house and you get the glorious job of removing it," she answered with a smirk. "I know it isn't glamourous, but for now you're the whelp around here. Personally, I'd rather you didn't kill the beast, but I don't think you'll have much other way of getting it out."
"Yeah, killing a lost wolf does seem kinda petty," I frowned. "Though I have to wonder how in Oblivion the thing got stuck in someone's house in the first place."
Following Aela's directions brought me to an increasingly familiar road away from the market. "You're in the Companions?" Ysolda laughed as I approached.
"They're a good source of paying work, such as yourself," I returned the laugh. "So what's all this about a wolf?"
"I have no idea how it got into the city, but I had a window propped open while I was at the market. I'm guessing that it must have jumped in and knocked it closed," she explained.
I frowned at her door and wondered about how I should approach the situation. It took me a couple moments to recall my so-far unused Thu'um. I set my sword down against her wall and headed into the building, Ysolda's "Good luck," following me in.
The first thing I noticed beyond the mess made by the invading wolf was the large two-person seat that had replaced the chairs by the fire since the last time I had been there. It was upholstered by soft looking leather and I resisted the desire to touch it in lieu of following the growling of the trapped wolf.
It took a second to find it, as it was backed into a corner of her bedroom. Nothing looked terribly damaged, though I saw that it had torn her larder apart. Food and various dishes were scattered about her dining room. The beast snarled at me, its eyes wild and clearly fearful. I actually had to pity the animal; it was just lost and scared.
"Kaan," my Voice echoed, even in the small space of the house. The effect on the wolf was immediate. Its lips dropped from their previous snarl, and within moments it had cautiously walked over to me to sniff at my palm. I also noticed that I had a strange sense of every animal in the immediate vicinity. It was like I could hear their muted heartbeats all around me. "That Shout is a lot more useful than I gave it credit for," I chuckled and bent down to face the wolf. "You aren't so bad when you aren't terrified, I'll give you that. Come on; I'm getting paid to remove you and I'd rather do it peacefully."
When I picked it up, it merely regarded me with a few sniffs at my face. The look I got from Ysolda alone made the job worthwhile. "How did you...?" she seemed unable to even finish the question.
"Being the Dragonborn has its benefits," I laughed and started jogging towards the gate. I didn't know how long the wolf would stay docile, but I doubted the effect was indefinite. I was just passing my house when the animal began to grow ornery. "Kaan!" I Shouted again and the wolf settled once more. Doing it so soon after the last time made my throat burn. I noticed that the noise of the Thu'um combined with the sight of a grown Argonian carrying a wolf through the streets managed to attract a number of stares.
Regardless, I managed to make it to the gate and release the wolf without incident. It darted off, glad for another chance at freedom. I watched it run for a moment to make sure it wasn't interfered with and was pleased that no one thought to do so.
When I returned to Ysolda's I found she had gone inside. I thought of simply returning to the Companions to inform Aela of my success but decided it a better plan to check on the woman who had hired us. Besides, I also thought, she had taken my sword inside with her.
I walked inside and found her understandably tidying the place. I set to work helping her, though the effort may have been wasted by my lack of knowing where anything went. She nonetheless seemed grateful for the help, at least. "Thank you for the help, Kailev-Tel," she said as we cleaned.
"Always happy to lend a hand," I replied easily. "Whether it's collecting mammoth tusks, removing wolves or cleaning your house, apparently."
"I'll have to repay your kindness, somehow," she remarked offhandedly, though I caught a clever smile playing about her lips. "I don't suppose I could entice you joining me for dinner again, could I?"
"You certainly could. It's beyond my ability to refuse a free meal, and my sister and housecarl won't be expecting me back tonight," I said and shot her a grin. "I'll just have to report my success to the Companions once we're done cleaning your place up and then I can help you get prepared."
Ysolda nodded and returned my smile. "You could certainly use the practice. Being the Dragonborn may let you tame wild animals but it doesn't seem to have gifted you with much ability to cook."
I tried to frown but found it rather difficult in the woman's presence. "In my defence, cooking isn't a skill that's likely to help me in a fight against a dragon or troll or whatever other creature happens to find me undesirable. Besides, you've never even had my cooking. I'll have you know I can cook very functionally."
She laughed aloud at that and I couldn't help but smile in response. It was almost shocking how at ease I felt with Ysolda. It was nice to be around a civilian for a change of pace. We finished cleaning and I quickly left to return to Jorrvaskr, Ysolda informing me on the way out that she would get supper started.
I looked at the sky outside to find it was late afternoon. The days were beginning to noticeably shorten as they made their way into Evening Star. The air was chilly and to the far east I could see thick, dark clouds. It occurred to me that it would likely start snowing soon, a prospect I was less than pleased about.
As I made my way through the market the thought of cold reminded me that I had yet to accomplish the task given to me by the Greybeards. I hadn't even bothered learning where Ustengrav was. I distantly hoped that it wasn't an urgent matter, as I had little intention of dealing with it any time soon. Doing what I was told was never something I was very good at.
Aela regarded me with an amused smirk as I approached. "When I said I'd rather you didn't kill the wolf, I didn't think you'd actually pick the thing up and carry it out of town. Or that it would let you, for that matter."
"It would seem news travels faster than I do," I sighed and shook my head to suppress my own smirk.
"About as fast and far as your Voice," she nodded. "For someone who's apparently been reluctant to tell anyone he's the Dragonborn, you're quite obvious about it."
I shrugged. "It couldn't be helped. I didn't want that wolf to eat my face. It's one of my most charming features."
"You'd certainly be lacking without it," she agreed with a chuckle. "In any case, here's your pay for the job." She untied a coin pouch from her belt and handed it to me. It didn't feel like much more than a hundred septims, but money was money.
"Glad to be of service. Think you'll have anything else for me tomorrow?"
Aela nodded. "Considering how well word about you has spread around here, you should try talking to Skjor. I think he was asking after you earlier," she explained. I thanked her for the information and left.
I briefly pondered on what Skjor might want with me. I hadn't actually gotten beyond simple introductions with the man, so I didn't really know anything about him. I was hastily distracted when I returned to Ysolda's home.
I walked inside to find her dressing a pair of pheasants for dinner. I hung my vest and chain on the hilt of my sword, propped against the wall. A number of potatoes were set aside with a knife that I presumed was for me to start on.
"Can you skin those potatoes and chop them into thin slices for me?" she asked as I entered.
I nodded and set to work. The thickened scales at the edges of my thumbs made it easier to skin the potatoes with the small knife I had been given. Even so, I managed to slip on one and slice the pad of my thumb open. I hissed sharply in surprise and pain and inspected the thin cut.
"Are you okay?" Ysolda asked. Her concern surprised me, but then I also thought she may not have a full appreciation for what I put myself through on a frequent basis.
"Yeah, it's nothing. I do know a bit of magic, remember," I chuckled and flashed a quick healing spell to seal the wound shut. "You still have to be careful, though. I don't know how to heal other people."
We lapsed into silence for a few minutes while I cut the potatoes and she finished dressing the birds. "Can you tell me about your travels?" Ysolda asked as she put the birds inside a wood stove at the back corner of the house I hadn't noticed before. Apparently I was terribly unobservant, to have missed it for so long.
"I guess, if you really want to know," I shrugged and tossed the sliced potatoes into a provided pan. They splashed into the milk at the bottom. "I went to Ivarstead, climbed the mountain and talked to some wiseguys." I chuckled at Ysolda's eyeroll while I passed her the pan. She laid slices of cheese over the potatoes and slid the pan in with the pheasants.
At her further insistence I told her about Ivarstead, Riften and Windhelm. I even touched on Mistwatch, though uncertainty towards her reaction to the events with Fjola kept me vague on details. When she asked about how I knew Ulfric Stormcloak I had to explain about Helgen.
"It seems a little heavy-handed to execute you for border crossing," Ysolda frowned as I related the tale.
"Yeah, that's what I thought, too. The Imperial captain at Helgen didn't seem too pleased with my pointing that out," I nodded. "I was actually put on the block immediately after remarking on it, come to think of it. I think the captain might have taken offence to something I said to her. It's a good thing a dragon showed up and burned the town to the ground. For me, anyway."
"I heard a lot of the townspeople made it out. The dragon stayed mostly around the centre of town."
"Probably because that's where I was. I'm pretty sure it showed up there for me," I said and looked to the western window to see what time of day it had gotten to. The sun's last rays before evening shone over the wall around the city. "Being the Dragonborn kind of has that hazard. I actually had to fight a couple dragons during my travels. I don't think I have the option of keeping it a secret from them."
"That certainly sounds inconvenient," Ysolda's voice betrayed her amusement.
"To put it lightly," I sighed, but couldn't suppress my smirk. After all my talking the food was done cooking. We each grabbed some cloths to take the food from the oven. "Smells good," I said appreciatively as we dished the food out.
"It does," my hostess agreed and fetched us a bottle of wine.
We didn't speak while we ate. It was more comfortable to sit in the companionable silence of each other's company. The only words exchanged were offers for either more food or wine. I retrieved our second bottle of the latter when we inevitably ran out. The pheasant was a nice change of pace from the fish and red meat I was used to eating and I had never before eaten something like the scalloped potatoes, even in Black Marsh. Swampland didn't lend to growing potatoes.
After eating we found ourselves sitting languidly together on her fireside seat, a third bottle of wine between our feet. We had shut the windows and set a fire going to keep the place warm overnight. "What's fighting a dragon like?" she asked at length with a mildly inebriated giggle that she followed with a swig of her wine.
I unconsciously repeated the action and drained my cup. "It's pretty damn exciting, I have to admit. I'm glad I've always had help," I grinned at her while I leaned down to refill my wine. I found the bottle half empty. It was surprising how quickly the sweet drink was disappearing. "I honestly don't know how well I'd do against one alone."
"You must be quite the warrior, but I guess that's becoming of the Dragonborn," she returned my smile.
"Most of the world trying to kill me on a daily basis has helped me toughen up, I suppose," I laughed easily.
Her eyes tracing along my body made me shift somewhat uncomfortably. I wondered if I'd ever get used to friendly human scrutiny. "How did you get these scars?" Ysolda asked suddenly, indicating the trio of slashes down the left side of my face with a wave of her half-full cup of wine. The action still spilled some of the wine. The dark red liquid splashed across my left shoulder and soaked into my cloth shirt. "Oh dear! I'm sorry," my hostess rushed out and looked around for something to clean the mess with.
"My clothing gets treated worse than this on most days, believe me," I waved off her concern and tried to ignore the uncomfortable trickle of wine down my left arm.
She frowned at the red blotch soaking into my shirt. "Still, that can't be comfortable," her eyes lit up as an idea apparently overtook her. The next thing I knew she was straddling my waist and her hands were pulling my shirt up my torso. It seemed I was a bit more drunk than I had given myself credit for, as was Ysolda considering her rather impulsive behaviour.
I decided that drunk or no, she had a good idea. I really wasn't too fond of the wet material pressing into my shoulder. My shirt collar got caught on a horn when Ysolda tried to slip it over my head. She tried to carefully unhook it from the bony spike, but when that took too long I made the decision to damn the stained shirt and simply tore it loose.
The second the shirt was off Ysolda's lips were pressed to mine in a searing kiss. My hands darted to where her dress had bunched up around her knees and slid up the smooth skin of her legs, gliding over her thighs on their way to her waist. My eyebrows twitched when I found nothing but bare skin beneath her dress. As much as I may have wanted to comment on her lack of undergarments, my tongue was far too busy tangling with hers.
I tried to keep my short, blunt claws from biting into her skin when my fingers dug into her supple flesh. My thumb made its way to her moist folds to play with her clitoris of its own accord. She made some effort to hide her pants and moans by pressing a trail of wet, hot kisses down my scarred cheek and neck to my shoulder.
"This is new..." she whispered hoarsely. A quiet hiss escaped my lips when she dragged her tongue across the scar I had inherited at Mistwatch. The scales there were sticky with wine that she seemed rather eager to lap up.
"You're keeping track?" I chuckled. My palms slid up her sides and I became irritated with the dress keeping my hands from moving freely.
Her teeth nipped lightly at my collarbone. "Of course. I love your scars," her words were emphasized by her lips darting from mark to mark. She kissed and licked at scars I had long forgotten about around my chest and shoulders while my hands took to busying themselves with the ties to her dress.
When the strings came apart enough for the dress to be removed Ysolda slipped from my lap, leaving me with an empty dress in my hands and a naked woman standing before me. I barely noticed the backdrop of the fire behind her. "I think something's backwards," I remarked with a frown and held the dress up to demonstrate. "That was suppose to work the other way around."
She didn't answer. She just flashed me a gorgeous smile and escaped to the darkness of her bedroom. I stared stupidly at the doorway for a couple seconds before my alcohol-clouded brain clued in and I jumped to my feet to pursue her. I snatched up a candle and lit it on the way before hastily fumbling with the cursed straps and buckles holding my pants on.
A sock landed on my snout when I entered the room. It clung for an instant before dropping anticlimactically to the ground. I guessed Ysolda to be amused by her laugh. I shook my head but couldn't help but laugh quietly.
I set the candle down on her bedside table as I made my way to the lovely woman lying before me. My tail flicked my pants away once I had gotten them shucked off my legs. Our lips met as I lowered myself to join Ysolda on the bed. Her smooth skin sliding against my rougher scales enticed me to further explore her body.
I repeated her earlier actions, kissing and nipping my way to her neck. She made a sharp gasp in my ear when my teeth gently scraped across an artery. My tongue slithered across the reddened skin and her next breath came out in a pleased whimper. One of my hands lifted her breast to my waiting mouth while the other slid down her side to grip her waist. Her soft moans filled the room while I sucked and licked at her hardening nipple. When I felt the other was being sorely neglected I happily switched, eager to bring it to stiff attention like its twin.
"Kai..." Ysolda moaned as I began kissing my way down her flat stomach. My hands drifted down her body to rest at her knees so I could ease her legs apart.
"Hm?" I hummed in response. Her words were cut off by my tongue flicking once against her hardening clitoris. I could feel the tension in her body while she waited for me to continue. It released at once when I began pressing kisses down the inside of her thigh and she fell back to the bed.
"I thought women were supposed to be the teases," she groaned.
I chuckled and rose to my knees, lifting her leg with me so I could continue kissing and licking her skin. "I'm very equal opportunity," I smiled down at her and slowly dragged my hand up her other leg. A shiver passed through Ysolda's body when my fingers began to idly play with her dripping sex. My fingers dipped briefly into her folds and I allowed myself a quiet groan at the feel of her. One digit pushed in to the knuckle and elicited a short scream from the woman below me.
She made a disappointed whine when my finger withdrew. I pressed my smiling lips to her calf before dropping her leg back to the bed. I glided my palm back up her leg to gently massage her thigh. It struck me as odd, how much pleasure I derived from just touching her.
"You're beautiful," I muttered without really intending to. It was undeniably true. I could think of no other way to describe the woman before me, panting and glistening with sweat while my thumb toyed idly with the hard nub of her clitoris. The feel of her skin and flesh beneath my hands was delightful. The moisture surrounding her nether lips was spread by my playing fingers. A dull claw dragged lightly along the outer edge of her labia and the contrast of her white and pink flesh against my grey and black scales was striking.
Even in the firelight, her glowing blush was evident. She held my gaze, though her eyes were half-closed and clouded with lust. "You're quite the looker, yourself," she remarked with a smile.
I ignored the impulse to look away in embarrassment. "I guess I should be thankful you think scarred up lizards are so fetching," I chuckled awkwardly instead and ducked back down, both to finally give my gracious hostess what I had been withholding and to partially escape her piercing stare.
She seemed caught off guard when my tongue darted inside her enticing pussy. She jumped and her hands clamped down on the back of my head in a sudden effort to hold me in place. My long tongue twisted and writhed inside the delectable heat. Her scent and taste were nearly as intoxicating as our wine. Her loud moans turned into a veritable shriek as I withdrew my tongue to glide the length of it across her shining clitoris.
The invasion of a pair of my fingers drew an uncharacteristic curse from her mouth. "Shit, shit..." she repeated with each push of my hand and lash of my tongue. "Kai, please..." she muttered breathlessly.
I turned my gaze up to find her gazing down at me with a shocking look of affection in her eyes. When our stare met her mouth opened to speak but whatever she intended to say was lost in the moans and cries accompanying her orgasm. I didn't ponder on it; I merely redoubled my efforts to drag out her pleasure.
She eventually collapsed onto the bed, heaving and shaking in her afterglow. "Have I improved?" I chuckled and lapped up the juices running down her quivering flesh. She hummed something that sounded positive.
The salty taste of sweat on Ysolda's skin mixed with the vaguely musky flavour of her essence when I licked and kissed my way back up her body. She captured my lips with hers the moment they were in reach and wrapped her legs around my waist to hold me in place. I let my weight settle on her and press her into the bed for the sake of feeling her hot skin against as much of my body as possible while we kissed.
I inhaled sharply through my nose when her hand gripped my member. She gave it a few soft strokes before guiding it to her entrance. We both groaned into our kiss when she dragged the head of my cock up and down her dampened sex. My eagerness got the better of me within seconds and I couldn't keep myself from pushing into her. Her lips broke away from mine in another gasp and I took the opportunity to catch my breath. She felt just as hot and tight as I could remember. I started slowly, wanting to simply bask in the pleasurable feel of her body more than pursue any end.
As wonderful as Ysolda's skin felt against my scales I rose back to my knees, both to make moving easier and so I could observe her. Her eyes were shut and her chest heaved with her pants each time I slid back inside her gripping heat. It wasn't long before her moans began to again mix with her breathing. Her breasts jumped with every buck of my hips, inspiring me to pick up my pace. My fingers dug into her hips and I drove in again and again with reckless abandon. I was heavily conflicted between staring at her bouncing tits and her beautiful face and vaguely lamented not being able to control my eyes independently, as some creatures of Black Marsh could. I supposed that I could at least take comfort in the thought that I was more attractive than a chameleon.
I dragged a hand up her side to her chest to paw at the bouncing globes there. The blunt tip of my claw scraped across the bottom of Ysolda's puffy pink nipple and I felt the muscles of her vagina tighten in response. The unexpected pressure brought my climax shockingly close and I pondered how I had lost such restraint in the relatively short time since my romp in the woods with Lydia before our return to Whiterun.
Pure desire for relief won out over pride and I made little effort to hold off my release. My hand at her hip slipped to our joined sexes so my thumb could draw hard circles around her clitoris in an attempt to bring about her second orgasm. She jumped when my thumb touched her and her harsh moans in my ear made me confident my plan was working.
My hand rose from her tit to grip her shoulder so I could drive into her with all the force I could muster. I groaned at the feeling of my impending climax. "Ilsaa, I'm close," I muttered between pants.
"Me, too," she whispered back. Her eyes cracked open and turned to face me. For the first time I noticed her hands gripping my arms. "Please, please..."
I pushed as deep into her as I could when my orgasm hit me. The moment after my seed began to pulse into her body the walls of her vagina clenched around my manhood in delicious heat. I felt my own fluids mixed with hers run between our bodies to soak into her sheets when she pulled me down to kiss me. Our lips melded, though we were too lost in the throes of our pleasure to think to do much more.
As our lips, our bodies pressed tightly together when we both returned to Nirn. My softening member slipped from her body with another outpouring of fluid. Ysolda broke away from me with a gasp. "Oh, shit," she moaned.
"You okay?" I asked half-jokingly. I couldn't tell if the curse was in pleasure or discomfort but when I noticed her grinding her thighs together I guessed it to be the former.
She nodded and returned her lips to mine. I settled down onto the bed next to her while we kissed. "I missed you..." she mumbled in between pecks.
Her words caught me a little unawares but I made sure not to show it. "Same," I muttered back and realized it was true. "...Sorry I'm such a whore," I continued with a slightly embarrassed chuckle.
Ysolda broke away again, this time with a laugh. "Kai, I'm not so petty that I'm not willing to share the Dragonborn, and I can hardly blame another woman for seeing what I do in you," she said sweetly. I felt like if my scales allowed it I'd likely be bearing a bright blush and I wondered not for the first time if the red streaks across my face were glowing.
"Thanks, I guess," I shrugged awkwardly. "In my defence, I'm still genuinely shocked that I've attracted even one human. It wasn't a common thing before coming to Skyrim. It must be something in the water here."
Ysolda held her smile while she lay back on the bed. I shifted and felt a lukewarm stickiness on my thigh and realized something would soon have to be done about our mess. For the time being, though, I was far too preoccupied with my lovely partner's lips. After all, the night was still quite young, and I had a few weeks of separation to make up to her.

"So other than being a nifty axe, what's so special about this Wuuthrad?" I asked Farkas as we made our way across the plains towards Dustman's Cairn. Apparently we were to retrieve the shard of some really old and really important axe. Personally, I thought it sounded like humans putting too much stock into their relics, but a job was a job.
"Ysgramor was the one who founded the Companions, and Wuuthrad was his weapon," he explained with the expected reverence in his voice. I supposed it was good to believe in something. "He came from the ancient homeland and used his axe to kill all the elves. Except he didn't get quite all of them, since some of them are still here." Even if that something was a little genocidal, I thought with a frown.
"You humans really take your artifacts and old weapons pretty seriously," I remarked.
"You don't care about your history?" he asked curiously.
I shook my head, which caused some of my spines to rattle against the hilt of my sword. The weight of its strap on my shoulder had proven an odd thing to get used to, even mitigated as it was by my armour. "Not terribly, no. History's good to learn from, but there isn't much benefit to clinging to it, y'know? I care a lot more about what's going to happen today than I do about what happened yesterday."
He nodded in response. "I think I know what you mean, but we're working on rebuilding Wuuthrad. Kodlak once told me that if we got all the fragments of Wuuthrad back together a skilled enough smith could probably reforge it."
"And you've got Eorlund Grey-Mane," I nodded back while we descended the stairs into the barrow of Dustman's Cairn. "I guess an old artifact can't be entirely useless if it can still chop stuff up. At the very least, I'm sure it could make a decent axe for firewood or something."
The comment was received with an amused laugh. "I don't know how happy Kodlak would be to see Wuuthrad used for chopping firewood, but his expression might just be worth it."
Our pleasant exchange halted when we entered the barrow and found we weren't the first ones to investigate it. A small camp had been set up inside the entrance and mining tools were scattered about. "Looks like someone beat us here," Farkas said as we looked around the camp.
"Anyone else you can think of that might be after this axe?" I asked while I inspected some of the tools laid out on a central table.
"Maybe," he said with a thoughtful expression that looked odd on his face. "We'd best tread lightly. Keep your wits about you."
"I wouldn't be much without them," I shrugged and set to pilfering through a chest of gold supplies. I noticed a great deal of silver among the effects.
Further in we found draugr predictably unhappy with our presence. I disliked fighting the undead constructs. There was no satisfaction of cutting through flesh and sinew and their dried bones and hard armour were unkind to the edge of my sword. It was more fun to smash through them with a broadsword than it had been to hack at them with my previous blades, though, even if it was a bit harder to swing the thing around in the cramped tunnels. Being able to observe Farkas and copy his movements helped.
When we came upon thick, heavy spiderwebs I saw my Shield-Brother shudder slightly. "Ugh. I hate spiders," he muttered.
"Then never visit Black Marsh. Gloom widows and harvestmen are a lot creepier than frostbites," I chuckled.
To my slight disappointment, there weren't any such creatures to be fought in the room we found. It looked like another camp, set up in what was once a tomb. "Imagine what your ancestors could have done if they'd put half as much effort into their buildings as they did their holes," I said and looked to the ceiling of the massive cave. A shaft of light from above streamed in and I wondered if the hole was natural or man-made.
"Vignar told me that all these old tombs had people living in them at some point, like underground towns, and that's where the draugr came from," Farkas explained. "He said that might just be a legend, though. I don't know for sure and I've never much cared. I just know that when one of them gets up you have to knock it back down."
"Glad we share that sentiment," I shot him a grin. A quick inspection of the space produced little of interest and the exit was gated shut. When I found a lever inside a small room I assumed it worked the gate and threw it without thinking about what else it might do.
The sound of the exit opening was complimented by the sound of a gate closing behind me. I turned towards the iron bars and frowned. "...I'm really bad at this sometimes," I grumbled and tried to flip the switch back only to find it jammed. "Hey, Farkas! I want it known that I hate your ancestors' needless fascination with traps!"
My call was returned with a laugh. "Hold on. I'll see if I can find a way to get that gate open," his voice sounded far too entertained.
Before he could act on his intentions, however, a group of five humans rushed in to corner him against the gate. I judged them to be enemies by their drawn weapons. "We have a bad habit of running into assholes," my frown deepened.
"Looks like we were right to expect you to come here, dog," one of them taunted my comrade.
"Time to die, Companion!" another added.
"Which one is it?"
"It doesn't matter. If he wears that armour, he dies."
"Killing you two will make for a good story."
Farkas stuck his sword into the ground and unlatched his armour. I marvelled at how simply it released and made a mental note to ask how it did so. Considering how often I wanted to get out of mine quickly it seemed invaluable information. "None of you will be alive to tell it," he growled and flexed his shoulders.
The crackling sound of shifting bone echoed off the stone walls surrounding us for a few seconds while my companion grew into a beast I recognized by description as a werewolf. I seemed momentarily forgotten while the humans before him stepped back and readied their weapons. I took the opportunity to conjure an ice spell to each of my palms. I stuck my hands through the bars before me and fired a twin pair of spikes not unlike oversized icicles. One caught a female in the throat while the other went wide and carved a vicious gash in one of the male's cheeks.
Any further efforts in my part proved unnecessary when Farkas set upon his foes. Long claws powered by thick, heavy arms tore through armour and flesh alike. Two were dead before they had a chance to attack. The last managed to catch his arm with a slash but it did little to stop the werewolf's powerful jaws from crushing her throat.
Farkas shot a glance my way before stalking off somewhere out of sight. A moment later the gate holding me lifted and he returned, once again an ordinary – if half-naked – human. His lips were curled in a smirk. "Hope I didn't scare you," he chuckled and retrieved his equipment.
I shrugged and returned his laugh. "If I was in their position, I might be a little worried. So long as you aren't chewing on me, though, I'm not too concerned. I've definitely run into stranger shit in my liftime." I stooped to inspect the bodies to see if they were carrying anything that could help me relieve my debt faster while Farkas redressed. To my delighted surprise they all possessed some amount of silver jewellery. Their weapons were also edged with silver and I could only assume it was designed to be effective against werewolves. Regardless, it encouraged me to grab a could of the lighter swords. At the least I could probably melt it down for reuse. "So is everyone in the Companions a werewolf?"
"No, only the members of the Circle have the beastblood."
I wasn't entirely certain who that involved but I knew it excluded me so I didn't think too hard on it. "Is that why those assholes were here to kill you?" I asked as we left the room.
Farkas nodded. "They looked like members of the Silver Hand. They're werewolf hunters who found out about our secret. It's actually fairly strange for you to find out," he said.
We rounded a corner and almost stumbled on another pair of hunters. "Shit! Did they kill the others?" one of them, a female with a shield on one arm and a mace at her hip, barked to her compatriot.
He didn't answer, instead opting to draw his swords. The silver edges flickered brightly in the firelight of the torches lining the hallway. Farkas and I each unsheathed our own weapons to meet the coming charge. I was somewhat grateful that the male chose me to fight, as it had been a very long time since I had lost fought someone wielding two swords and my own experiences with dual-wielding helped me predict his attacks.
My lack of experience with a two-handed weapon seemed to mitigate the advantage, though. My parries and counters were sluggish with the heavy weapon, leaving my gauntlets with a few nicks and scratches when I had to block with those. The soft silver edging my enemy's swords may have been effective against a werewolf's hide, but there wasn't much it could do against my armour. When my broadsword finally found purchase in the Silver Hand's side it carved a bloody furrow through his iron plate. He stumbled back from the force of the blow and gave me room enough to get a proper swing into his clavicle. My blade deflected through his armour and exited through his armpit. His shriek of pain drowned out the sound of his arm hitting the ground. I noticed he was already falling towards the stone floor when my sword liberated his head from his shoulders.
Farkas's chuckle caught my attention. "You're a little clumsy with that thing," he gestured to my sword.
"Yeah, a little," I conceded. "I just need to get used to it. I still don't quite know what I'm doing with a weapon this size." His grin made me aware of the potential innuendo and I wanted to smack myself for not catching it first.
We continued travelling deeper into the barrow, fighting through what felt like scores of Silver Hand and draugr. When we ran into a nest of frostbite spiders I learned just how much Farkas hated the things. His first response was a decidedly unmanly scream followed by the most furious attack I had seen him commit. The giant spider was cut to pieces in moments and I was left staring at my panicked Companion.
"You okay?" I asked, doing my best not to laugh.
"Gods, I hate those things," he shuddered again and seemed unwilling to sheathe his sword while it was covered in their ichor.
"Yeah? Frostbites really aren't so bad, though I'll admit they're a lot uglier than a pale recluse."
"How many spiders do you have in Black Marsh?" Farkas did little to hide his disgust at the prospect.
"Good question. If I had to guess, I'd say there are about five or six different species of giant spiders back home. Most of them aren't terribly aggressive, at least."
He gave another shudder nonetheless. "Remind me to never go there. The last thing I need is to know how small a frostbite spider really is."
Our chatting continued through the rest of the caves and tunnels until we came upon the large tomb that Wuuthrad's fragments apparently resided in. Familiar whispers reached my ears from the far end of the tomb. I smiled at the sight of the engraved wall behind the central sarcophagus. Immediately before it was a large stone table bearing the shards of Wuuthrad we had been sent to retrieve. Farkas made for them while I walked right past, beckoned to the glowing symbols adorning the large wall. My hand traced over the glyphs unconsciously before their light jumped out and poured into my being. The formless knowledge contained in the soul of the dragon I had killed at Windhelm latched onto the word, giving it meaning and purpose.
My grin at learning how to breath fire nearly split my face. "What was that?" the Nord behind me asked curiously.
I turned to face him and shrugged. "It's a Dragonborn thing," I answered. My explanation of exactly what that pertained to was cut of by the sound of coffin lids hitting the ground all around the tomb. I glanced around to see what looked to be a dozen draugr crawling out of their coffins. "...I'm bad luck, aren't I?" I frowned at Farkas.
"That depends on how you look at it," he laughed and drew his sword. "Other than those damn spiders, I can't say I mind how much trouble seems to follow you around."
The battle that followed likely would have been bloody, had the draugr possessed any. Farkas and I dove in with reckless abandon, our broadswords sweeping through ancient bone and metal. I continued to indirectly learn from Farkas, though more than once I was caught with a blow while paying too much attention to his fights.
I eventually found myself with my back to a wall and three walking corpses before me. My ally was too engaged with his own battle to lend me aid and my arms were beginning to grow incredibly tired from swinging my great weapon around all day. "Bow before the dead and beg for mercy!" one of them growled in dragon tongue.
I responded in the same language, though with only a single word. "Yol!" I Shouted. Fire burst from my mouth and swept across two of the three before me. What little tissue holding their bones together turned to ash in an instant, which was useful as I could only hold the flaming breath for a couple seconds. The last draugr's axe would have caught me in the neck had I not raised my arm to block it. My shredded gauntlet did little to stop the centuries-old blade, though it was dull enough that it bruised more than cut.
I kicked the creature in the stomach and sent it tumbling back so I could let loose a series of firebolts into its prostrate form. I saw the last draugr fall to Farkas's sword and finally let loose a relieved sigh. "That was a lot of trouble for a few bits of metal," I frowned and tore what remained of my right gauntlet away. It was becoming an unfortunately familiar post-mission ritual.
"What are you whining about?" Farkas called from the far side of the room.
"Oh, nothing important. I'm just looking forward to getting out of this dank hole," I called back and retrieved my scabbard. I was quite delighted with its survival of its first trip with me. If all I lost each trip was a gauntlet I considered myself quite fortunate.

A/N: You know what I really miss? The days when I could actually write. Taking so goddamn long to get this shit done wouldn't be so irritating if it was something I considered worthwhile. The best I can promise is that this story will continue to be updated, even if it takes a month or two to do it. I just have to hope that I can get back into the groove in a timely fashion. Perhaps I need to take a note from Stella and bang a Jamaican dude or something.
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The Line Begins to Blur