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Skyrim: Plaything	By : GE_The_Beast Category: +A through F > Elder Scrolls - Skyrim Views: 21453 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This story is made for fun, profit and entertainment. In no way do I own anything discussed. I do not own Skyrim or The Elder Scrolls fandom in any way, nor do I intend any profit from this story.

Chapter List
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Elayne held Captured Dreams to her chest, grabbing her bag and wrapping it around her shoulders. “Oh that bitch.” She murmured. “She knows I need Serana!” She did a quick check of her room. Her weapons were missing, probably taken by Elenwen. Her Daedric artifacts were taken, too! That damn Thalmor! She didn’t even have so much as a dagger to defend herself with. But she needed all of them back. Closing the book, she opened it once more, seeing an entirely different set of rune work on its pages. There was a Dragon word in between the ones written in a tongue she could read. “Rel?” she sounded out. The Draconic word for domination. Images and information pulsed into her mind, of intent beyond what reading it should impart. It felt like part of a dragon shout, but it didn’t feel like any she had heard before. It made her body shudder, for some reason. Shaking her head, she read the words that she knew would activate Captured Dreams.
“Traitors await but one end; Cowardice is mortality personified.” She whispered, as the darkness of the room thickened, her earrings rattling as she was transported to the other world. The darkness was gone for only a moment before Elayne could hear someone clapping. The book slammed shut, and she looked up at her audience. An older man was standing at the door to the bedroom, clapping gently.
“Shh.” He whispered. She shivered in response, the place absolutely frigid. No one had been here in a very long time. It looked dusted, at least. But the furs on the bed looked old and frayed. “I’ve been waiting for you to use that book for a very long time, now.”
“Who are you?” She whispered back.
“Something of an old soldier.” He spoke, flipping a coin. “But that book you have has garnered attention from above and below, respectively. And if someone is paying attention to the right place at the right time, you can follow the string of fate that you seem to be upon.”
A soldier. Something that could cross through Oblivion. That could be any one of three daedric princes, but she didn’t feel like this creature had the same sense of oppressive power that they did. “This isn’t a daedric summoning day.” She considered.
“It’s not so much of a day alignment so much as a place.” The older man smiled cleanly. “And my collar, of course.”
“You’re…”
“Don’t say my name!” He intoned. She could feel something press upon her neck, like an imperative from a deity. “The other forces notice when we do things like this. Call me Wulf.”
“Wulf, then.” She mumbled. “This is a first,” Her hands ran up and down her sides, feeling uncomfortable without even a dagger. “Usually it’s the daedra that like to talk to me.”
“They are a gossip-rag of the highest caliber.” Wulf spoke. “But the Aedra have been watching you, as well. We are not ignorant of your plight, nor unappreciative of your efforts. You have brought some peace to my people, and have the intention to do more.”
“The Aedra care? I thought they would have been kind of supporting Alduin!”
“Not all of the Aedra agree on Alduin. Akatosh won’t explain himself, and Kynareth absolutely loves dragons being free once again. She has a soft spot for them, and their position in the ecosystem.” Wulf explained. “Now, you’re in a bit of a tangle.”
“Are you going to travel with me?”
“No.” Wulf replied, his eyes filled with some kind of magical light. “I am going to help you with tasks ahead of you and beyond. First, what you’ve given to my people is a bit of hope. It calms the world to know a dragonborn is fighting for their interests. You scare that Thalmor, or else she wouldn’t have broken that deal with you.”
“She’s got the weapons I need, and Serana!”
“I can’t do very much directly. The Aedra frown upon such. So, first of all I need you to strip down to your waist.”
Her collar glowed, and Elayne felt a pressure in her mind to comply. Like every ounce of her body needed to do it. She fought the feeling, but her arms went against her mind’s design, untying her dress from behind her neck and letting it slide. “No! Stop!” The breastband followed, lovingly unwrapped and dropped onto the bed behind her. Which just left her in silk smallclothes.
“Dat. Ass.” Wulf grunted. “It is unfortunate I can’t go very Sanguine on you. Stay still.” The collar did keep her still, with one arm hastily draped across her chest for coverage. With one finger, he flipped that old coin once again. “So long as you have a shrine of myself, this will give you a bit of luck, as well as your own personal compass.” His fingers glowed, and thin glowing strands floated on both sides of the coin. They were forming a gossamer chain, and Elayne could feel the power radiating from it. Something undeniably Aedric. It felt pure, rather than the slightly tainted feeling that she had whenever she had touched the daedric pieces.
Of course that magic lasted until both ends of the chain snapped tight over her nipple rings. Then Wulf seemed to take an inordinate amount of pleasure letting the coin spin one last time, before the weight landed at the end of the chain and her entire world came down to that moment of shock and slight pain. “Ahhh!” She followed the bouncing little coin all the way down to her knees. It seemed to pulse every few seconds, swinging mercilessly away from her body.
“There! That will point to whoever you are thinking of. May you never lose your friends.” Wulf spoke. “The Aedra cannot act directly very often. But you decided to use my old bedroom. It gave me some freedom to act. The last thing I am going to do is let you take off that collar under certain conditions.”
“Which are?”
“When my shrine is restored in Solitude, you may remove that collar.” Wulf told her, harshly. “And one other thing, while we have your attention.” Wulf grabbed her by the arm, his grip like stone itself. She was dragged from the floor towards the edge of the bed, where Wulf sat, and she was thrown across his knees. The wind was knocked out of her, and the one free hand was pulled to her lower back and held there. Her legs were partially bent, with her shoes dragging on the floor. Her face was looking at the ancient stones, and the shoe prints in the dust. “I want you to repeat this, until it sinks into your mind.”
“Wait wait wait!” Elayne whimpered, cold realization falling upon her as Wulf’s hand rested on her very large ass.
“My.” Her world shrank down to the white hot pain that followed that word.
“Ah!”
“My!” He did it again, holding her in place easily. This time she had the presence of mind to do as he said.
“My!”
“Ass!” This slap hit the other cheek, the fire spreading. Elayne needed no further reason to not echo every word.
“Does!” Two Slaps this time, as she arched her back to try to get away.
“Not!” Her movements were for nought, as her pinned arm was easily manipulated into holding her in place.
“Belong!” Three slaps this time, as her eyes gathered some tears, the pain striking deep into her psyche.
“To!” Four slaps, as her ass began radiating what had to be every flame spell in existence.
“Daedra!” The last five spanks were the hardest of all, Elayne’s face being ground into the bedsheets with every strike. The word tumbled from her lips, barely comprehensible. The new chain upon her swung with the strikes, hitting her sternum and the coin swinging merrily along with her motions. Her blue strands of hair piled around her, filling her vision as her arm was used to drag her back to a standing position. One of her heels had slipped off during the spanking, leaving her barely able to balance. “If you were wondering how the Aedra feel about their hero consorting with Deadric Princes, I think I have made our point clear.”
“Quite.” Her voice said shakily, as she stood heavily on one foot. The other one ached slightly as she tried to lay it flat on the floor. So she just arched her feet, keeping on her toes so she could avoid having to balance as badly.
“You aren’t the first hero we’ve dealt with. I find a firm hand helps guide them.” Wulf grins. “You’re not alone, you know. As you play with fate’s hand, Mundus itself pushes back. Or perhaps it is Lorkhan raging against those who have wronged him.”
“What?” Lorkhan was something only known through myth or whispered secret. There was no proof that she had found or been able to find. “Lorkhan?”
“He’s real, don’t worry. You’re going to save the world, aren’t you? That’s what heroes do.” Wulf said. “The world recognizes when and where it can nudge things in favor of its chosen. Now, get your clothes on. You’ve got a mountain to climb. And monks to slip past.”
Elayne had her foot back in its heel first, so she could stand on the cold stone floor comfortably. Next, she recovered her breastband, carefully dressing in front of the God. Her new chain couldn’t be contained, nor could she see a way of removing it. So she double wrapped her breastband carefully, the slim silk covering her breasts and letting the chain hang down in front. She tried to tuck it inside all of the bands, but the chain stubbornly refused to be contained. All the while, her ass radiated pain with every pump of her heart. Just the skirts of her dress being drawn over it was enough to make her hiss in pain. And that was silky soft!
There was no way she was going to wear anything more rough in this situation. Which meant her nice warm coat was not possible to wear. The furs only went down to mid-thigh, like everything else she had gotten from Radiant Raiment. But the furs were thick, and covered her body well. She shivered, already knowing that things were going to go poorly just getting down the throat of the world.
When she glanced back at Wulf, she saw him holding up a pair of steel boots. The leather looked aged, but completely functional. “Ah, your feet might not enjoy these. One moment.” He whispered something, as the steel glowed and reformed. “These are the Boots of the Apostle. Or perhaps your personal artifact now. Should help you get off the mountain faster.” The back of the steel and leather boots was arching higher and higher, a thin spike forming from the back of the heel. It pointed in a way that would be hard for anyone but her to wear. “I don’t think I’ll need them back. Good luck, Ysmir. We’re rooting for you.” Wulf seemed to be there for one moment, and when she blinked he was gone. The boots he had been holding hit the bed, the steel glowing from strong enchantments. Her earrings rattled back and forth, as if proclaiming that Wulf, or Talos had returned to where he had come from.
“I just got paddled by an Aedra.” She murmured, the pain reminding her of what had been done. “My ass does not belong to Daedra. Real nice way of saying they are supportive. I guess they do care.” She pulled her lightest cloak around her, laced on these new Aedric boots, and slipped her bag over her shoulders. “Now I have to sneak past Arngeir and his crazy hearing.”
The heels Talos had made her seemed to make no noise unless she was standing all the way up. If she was crouching, they seemed to absorb all noise. She was like a nightblade, or one of those shadowscales the Argonians liked to talk about. Her steps made no noise, and she was fine until she reached the doors. The gigantic heavy nordic heavy wooden doors. Once she touched them, it would be over. Everyone in High Hrothgar would know she was here. There was nothing for it, though. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the doors open and bolted.
Her heels clicked once, and then twice on the stone steps before she was past the offering chest and into the snow. The boots seemed to just glide over the thick piles, barely touching the snow. Yet she felt as sure as anyone could be on the uncertain terrain. “Hah!” She giggled. “These are amazing!” She could run across water in these, most likely! She could see the doors to High Hrothgar open in the distance, but she was already on the snow, and moving fast. The monks would need to use a shout to catch up.
The snow was only disturbed by two sets of foot prints. The first seemed to barely indent the snow, while the second was knee deep and pushing. The barely indented set seemed to take tiny footsteps. “Serana.” She whispered. “I’m coming.” The poor woman seemed to hate Elenwen for her race. Hopefully she would be appreciative for how much effort Elayne was putting into this. She was able to move quickly down the mountain, the artifact heeled boots keeping her from touching the snow and thereby freezing to death from that contact. That didn’t mean that her tender and exposed legs were spared the freezing wind and chill.
Her teeth were chattering long before she came across two dead wolves, clean cuts through both necks showing their death. “Elenwen.” There was no blood on the snow, meaning the wolves had not even touched her. Shivering, she kept making her way down the mountain, as the wind whipped at her skin. The tracks were easy to follow, down most of the seven thousand steps. But then, there was a detour. The footsteps literally went off a cliff, to the swirling pits of snow below. Elayne leaned over the edge, looking for any kind of sign. Anything to suggest that this was the right path.
The coin pulled, deciding for her. It almost dragged her over the edge, the surprise enough to follow the sharp tug of pain. Screeching, Elayne started falling. The ground was approaching too fast! She was going to die on the rocks! “F-Fe,” She shakily stated. The rocks were coming even closer! “FEIM!” The shout was half screech and half desperation, as her body turned ethereal for a moment. And for that moment, Mundus drew no hold upon her. The rocks felt like slight tingles as she came to a stop in a pile of snow, puffs of white powder filling the air from the force of her fall. Yet she felt nothing. For an entire second she couldn’t feel the kiss of air, or any true relief from surviving that fall.
And then the shout’s effect wore off entirely, returning Elayne to the inside of a snowbank. Her entire body came back to reality with a shivering twitch. She stood up, the magic heels keeping her above the snow but not stopping the instant chill she had acquired. Or the expletives that followed. She stamped around, rubbing her arms for warmth. In her stomping, she came upon a small trail leading down the southwestern side of the mountain. It couldn’t have been more than a goat path, but she saw something upon it. Serana’s little shoe prints were along the path. With plenty of scrapes and slides. The vampire must have been radiating anger to be dragged off this mountain by Elenwen.
The small goat trail had some shelter from the worst of the winds, but eventually stopped at a small cliff. There was a tower down below, old and somewhat decrepit. She had no clue where she was on a map, with the wind and the freezing cold. But it looked like Elenwen and Serana jumped again. Elenwen had mentioned some kind of slow fall spell she had known. A rare mysticism spell to know. This must be how she was getting off the mountain so quickly!
She balanced carefully. It was more than a hundred foot drop. Maybe two hundred. She felt a pit in her stomach, her body shaking in more than just shivering cold. Elenwen had many hours ahead of her in this world. So, she sucked in a breath and leapt. As the ground rushed towards her, she kept from screaming. It took every ounce of focus, as she considered the timing. “Feim!” Her voice was still, and her focus was complete. She hit a snowbank with a puff of snow, and managed to stand back up before returning back to the pull of Mundus. No coating of snow this time! She was still freezing, but it was better. Smoothing her skirts, she moved for the nordic ruin ahead. A single flap of material was pinned across the entrance, but she could see light behind it. Fire! She shivered, lips chattering as she pushed past the flap.
There was a bowl of coals burning, and the chamber was warm. But the contents of the chamber were anything but warm. Three bodies were piled into a corner, their throats slit. Their weapons were simple iron, and they had the rugged armor of bandits. Nords hard on luck living in some kind of tower or ruin. Their bodies had been stripped of any kind of valuables, and Elayne took a moment to place enough gold to pay for Arkay’s blessings upon each corpse before looking further at them. One of their axes had blood upon it. “She’s getting tired. Making mistakes.” Elayne whispered. Night was almost upon the area, and the light was going down. “Knowing her, she probably has the Night Eye spell.” Elenwen would travel through the night if she could. But Serana was going to slow her down. It was the one saving grace of chasing her. Elayne picked up one of the bandit’s swords, a heavy iron one. “I’m sorry for taking this. But I need it. Hero business, I am sure you understand.” She explained to the dead. “Sorry.” She said once again, not even sure what to really say. She did feel like she owed them that much.
Serana’s footprints didn’t go outside, and there was a tunnel going deeper into the ground. Elayne grabbed a torch, lighting it in the coals as her body finally reached comfortable temperatures once more. Besides her still sore and tender ass cheeks, of course. They had to have gone this way.
Once again warm, and with a lit torch she followed the ancient nordic tunnel. Old roots hung in between heavy stones, grasping for dirt where none would be found. Her heels echoed on the old stones, and even though she thought there would be Draugr, it seemed to be empty. There were no burial cairns or twists in the tunnel. It just moved in a nearly straight line underground, going from one inhospitable tower to somewhere else. She had never been here, so she at least hoped it wouldn’t head towards the bottom of a ruin. After what had to be almost a mile of intact tunnel, she came to the end, where the light of day could be seen. But it was not only the light of day she saw. There was also Serana. Moss hung in thick clumps, hiding much of the view. But there was no mistaking those heeled boots. The vampiress was leaning against a wall, eyes closed and looking tired. Her leash was pinned to the wall above her with a dagger, simple though it may be.
There was no sign of Elenwen. Elayne crouched, her heels going silent as she moved forwards. Just around the corner she could see a fur bedroll, and what might be Elenwen within it. She didn’t want to risk any mistakes here. She was a senior Thalmor agent. She was old enough to know magic that Elayne would not. Around the corner, she heard a small voice whisper a few arcane words. Words she knew well, as she had also cast Chameleon and Invisibility spells on occasion. Elenwen knew she was there. She had better weapons, armor, and was likely invisible. Elayne could deal with one of those things.
“Laas!” She said clearly, her dragon shout revealing the aura of all creatures around her. Elenwen was just feet away, arms raised. Instinctively, she activated her racial power. If there ever was a time to need to absorb spells, it was now.
The bolt of lightning struck her, cast from the Altmer. The entire spell bounced, scorching the floor of the tunnel around her. Elayne dropped her torch, the spell still enough to surprise her. Her magicka reserves were overflowing, and she released her own overpowered spell. Atronachs or summons would most likely die or be controlled by her, and she of course had the daedric artifacts. So she released her own spell, whispering the words for a frost spell. But her hands made the movements for a completely different one. Elenwen charged, and Elayne felt her favorite flame sword cut into her arm. Elenwen’s cut was deep, into the bone. But Elayne’s spell was just as effective. The paralysis struck, freezing the chameleon-protected Altmer in her tracks. She fell over, her bag slumping and the sword dropping to the ground.
“Serana!” Elayne yelled, pressing her arm. Blood was moving too quickly, and her restoration spells were only stopping the bleeding. “We need to go!”
The vampire looked at Elayne, and she swore she saw the vampire look grateful. Of course, the giant gag in her mouth tended to make it harder to tell what emotions were going through her. The vampire nodded, and gave a glance at the elf upon the floor. She raised her leg as much as the chain between her legs would allow, before driving the spike of her heel through Elenwen’s ankle. The ebonite and dragonbone punched right through the elf’s gear, and destroyed her ability to chase after them. Elayne ripped the leash free from the wall, and recovered her stolen gear from Elenwen. Her Elder Scroll was back in her possession! As well as her artifacts! For good measure, she took Elenwen’s bag as well. The woman had been sleeping in her thalmor armor, but her boots were off. She must have actually surprised the elf.
“Go go go!” Serana hobbled forwards, as they came out of a nordic tower. It looked like Elenwen had to fight some spiders recently, and they both heard when the paralysis spell ended. The elf screamed, rage and agony both in tandem. The unmistakable sound of a storm atronach being summoned came from behind them, and Elayne threw the old door shut behind them. Lightning sparked upon the old hinges, and she held her hand to the door. She had plenty of magicka, so a simple locking spell was cast. The door rattled, as the atronach tried to get through it. But it was holding. The night was still thick, and Elayne had no idea where they were. “Come on!”
There was a slim path leading down the mountain, her candlelight spell enough to follow it. The stars were many but the moon dark this night. She almost tripped more than once on the ice and snow, if it wasn’t for the heels Talos had given her. Serana had powers over ice and snow, so both of them were gliding over the trail. “We need to stop soon.” Elayne warned, still holding a massive wound in her arm. Carrying Elenwen’s bag as well as her own was slowing her, and Serana looked exhausted from her journey so far. In the distance, she could see another tower. Along with some walls. That meant some kind of settlement or camp. “I swear I’ve been here before.”
Snow was giving way to mud and cobblestone, and she had to keep Serana on the cobble. The woman was leaving a trail that Elenwen could follow, too. If Elayne could do it, the Thalmor certainly could too. Any spare magicka was going into her arm, attempting to heal the massive cut. The most she could do was just make it scab over, but her arm felt numb or limp in many places. She couldn’t tell how bad it was. Serana was keeping pace, but her hair was looking frazzled, and her legs shook.
By the time they reached the end of the road, she knew where they were. The walls looked melted, the buildings burnt to the ground. The gates were propped open, though the wood was entirely covered in scorched material. The hinges were no longer workable. “Helgen.”
Serana mewled, a noise that carried in the dark. “We can’t stay here. It is a dark place.” She had nightmares about it. There was a couple of destroyed wagons here near the gates, the wheels sticking out of the ground and pitted with age. Even after all was said and done, this place had not been used in this other world. She shuddered. “Through this town is the road to Falkreath. We can find shelter there. But if we stay here, Elenwen is going to catch up to us.”
Serana shakily nodded. Both of them could hear something moving along in the darkness, and they squeezed into a small piece of cover. Elayne’s face could only find room by pressing against the abundant cleavage of Serana. She had mixed feelings about how nice that was. But it was enough to hide from a man wearing heavy steel armor, carrying a torch. Elayne felt drool hit the top of her head, as Serana seemed to lean forwards. She probably needed to eat. But letting a vampire attack just anyone would be horrific!
The man turned, walking back towards another location in the area. But hanging from his belt seemed to be trophies. A collection of heavy steel collars, with chains. Elayne blinked. He was a slaver! Who else would carry collars openly? Her sense of mercy started feeling distinctly less than delightful. Of course, that was coupled with the breast envy she was clearly experiencing with Serana. She stood up once more, looking the vampire up and down. “Do you need blood?” She whispered.
The orange eyes broke contact with the man, and switched to Elayne. In the darkness of the night, they seemed hypnotic. Elayne realized with a start that such a power was something vampires were known to have! She broke eye contact, looking at anything else that would hold her attention. Like the tight clasps holding Serana’s cleavage together. Elayne shook her head, blue strands going first one way and then the other.
“Like I wouldn’t notice with my resistances.” She grunted. “Alright. Alright! I’ll help you get some food! How often do you need to, anyways?” The noncommittal shrug was enough of an answer. “Fine.” Elayne whispered. “Diivon.” The straps holding tight to Serana’s face unbuckled, hanging into her cleavage. But Elayne made no move to pull the gag from her lips. “I’ll take that off when I’ve caught one.”
It turned out to be the man from earlier. He was the only one checking on the gates this night. Another paralyze spell, and he was frozen in the half-melted stone street with his torch in the air. Serana strutted forwards, and Elayne drew the gag from behind her teeth. The vampire seemed to rest her tongue for a moment, before carefully taking a bite of the exposed man’s neck. Elayne could see manacles, chains, collars and a whip on his belt. They had the feeling of use, with the collars and manacles looking especially used.
His skin grew paler and paler as Serana ate, the man losing his healthy appearance. When Serana’s bloody lips left his neck, he crumpled. His breathing was weak, and he was gasping for breath. “If you leave him, he’s just going to become a vampire.” Serana’s voice was strained.
“I didn’t want to kill anyone.”
“He deserves it.” Serana whispered. “Do it, or I’ll use my magic to drain his life away.”
Faced with that kind of fate, Elayne drew the iron dagger and ended the man’s life. “Come on. We can’t stay if slavers are here.”
“You wear a collar willingly. I would be worried, too.” Serana mocked.
“You don’t understand. That book Elenwen used to come here?” Elayne was quiet, as they moved along the burnt and partially melted keep. Only when she could see the way to the western gate clear and empty did she keep speaking. “We are in another plane of Oblivion. Where there is another me, and another you. This is a world where a different Dragonborn defeated Alduin, Harkon, and others. I’ve been coming here to learn how to do the same.”
“You knew how to find me,” Serana spoke carefully. “Because you came here and found out?”
“It wasn’t like I could read the book, Serana. I had to risk my life to get that information. And I met your counterpart.”
“That’s how you got this.”
“That’s why you are wearing a leotard and I am keeping you from running back to your family.” Elayne said, a chill wind whipping through Helgen.
“We have to go to my home.”
“I think that ends with me dead and you stuck in ebonite and dragonbone until you find a smith that can help you escape.”
“No! You don’t understand! If my father managed to get two elder scrolls, then he found my mother! She was the one who put me in that cairn. She knew where I was!” Serana jiggled, as she hit a particularly tough stretch of scorched cobblestone. “But she must have had a reason for not telling Harkon!”
“And you think it would be a good idea to go into a fortress full of vampires and daedra to find out?”
“You don’t know if he will bring an army into the field.”
“That’s how they weakened him here. Removed enough of his strength that they could land on his island and defeat him. But I haven’t been able to find out who actually went with him to do it.”
“The other Dragonborn is a man?”
“A dunmer named Shashev Helseth.”
“An elf becoming a Nordic hero? I am certain the gods must be deeply insulted.” Serana murmured. “Good thing you seem to worship a daedric prince.”
“I’m not so sure on all of that anymore.” Elayne replied, her ass still radiating pain even hours later. “Both sides seem to have strong opinions on the matter.”
“None of the Aedra came to us for help.” Serana seemed to say bitterly. “The Daedra were far more willing to intervene in our favor when my family needed help.”
“For me, it was Hermaeus Mora.” Elayne whispered.
“Even during my era, if a cult to Mora was found it would be hunted down and destroyed. Don’t the Bretons fear him?”
“Not as much as we fear Malacath and Mehrunes Dagon. Orcs and incursions of daedra are far more of a threat in High Rock and our ancestors.” The gate loomed ahead of them, cracks in the great wooden door wide enough for people to fit through remaining. The iron braces were bent and misshapen. Behind them, there was the sound of crackling air as the night lit up brightly. For a long moment, one of the towers seemed to glow, and a smoking corpse fell from it. “I think Elenwen found a way to chase us.” Elayne said with dread.
“Damn elves.” Serana growled. “I’m too slow to escape!”
“There are three ways out of town other than the road we came in on. We’re going to lose her. She has three roads to choose from and we have one. Falkreath is infested with bandits ahead, anyways. We’ve got to leave the road.”
Serana started walking, jiggling as she went. “Don’t you have some kind of power to defeat bandits if they are in your way?”
“I’m not a murderous thrill seeker!” Elayne countered. “That would just leave a trail for her to follow!”
“I’m not used to being a fugitive. I’m the predator usually.”
“Well, right now you’re the damsel in distress. And if any single person recognizes you, the entire province will send bounty hunters looking to collect you.”
“So, situation normal. Or whatever Oblivion considers this since I’ve woken up.”
“I can gag you again.” Elayne warned. That had Serana quiet, at least for now. They headed west down the road, almost to Pinewatch. It was an open secret that bandits infested the area here and attacked unknowing caravans. Instead of keeping to the road, she pointed to a large pond that was on the side of the road. It seemed to have cobblestone on it, now. In her world, there was no such thing near this pond. Now there was a well traveled road leading past the pond. Pinewatch looked to be in poor repair, as if no one lived there.
“This way?” Serana asked. “It looks important.”
“Pinewatch is empty.” She whispered. “A new road?”
Serana simply stared into the darkness. “There is a sign claiming that this leads to Lakeview Manor. Along with a couple of symbols. A dragon with two Velothi weapons.”
“We can’t go there!” She replied, dragging her towards the cobblestone with known bandits. “That’s the sign of the Dragonborn. He’ll take us both to his fortress and we will never see the light of day ever again!”
“Perfect for Elenwen.” Serana smiled at her. “From how she was speaking, I don’t think she has too many friends left.”
“How are we going to lead her that direction?”
“Harvest the flowers for alchemical purposes along the road there for a second. Leave a couple, as if you rushed the collecting.” Serana spoke, carefully. “You’re an alchemist, right? That’s what one of those men said about you at the summit.”
“Right.” Elayne ran quickly, grabbing the flowers hastily along that new stretch of road. Sure enough, she saw the sign once she got close enough. Lakeview Manor, with a symbol of the Dragonborn on the side. She wanted to investigate, she really did! But the risk was too high. So she just grabbed a few handfuls of excellent mountain flowers, and started moving back down the road with Serana. If Elenwen went this way, maybe she would lose them. As she considered that, she and Serana walked upon the muddy cobblestone towards falkreath. The road conveniently went around the town if anyone wanted to keep moving, like them. By the time dawn rose, they were past the town and its sleepy set of barely-capable guards.
“How far away are we running?” Serana whispered. She sounded tired, and Elayne felt it. They had been hiking all night. Their heels were aching, and it was just around the corner to a small grove of trees and its associated pond.
“Just around this bend.” Elayne promised. “And through some trees.” The popular campsite looked like a Hunter’s camp. A few crushed sections of grass suggested where bedrolls had been laid out. Serana stumbled slightly leaving the road, returning to uncertain grass for the first time in hours. But where the Dark Brotherhood sanctuary should be was instead an area where the trees had been carefully removed. Burned, in fact. Elayne remembered that the other Dragonborn had wiped out the Dark Brotherhood. “We’re stopping here.” She declared. “There are a few logs by the fire.” Carefully, she laid out a couple of furs from her bag upon the logs so they both could rest upon them. Serana’s leotard had no coverage on her ass, and Elayne’s still burned from the paddling she got at the hands of Talos.
Both women sat gingerly, resting their feet and sighing in comfort. “Thanks for starting to treat me like a person.”
“Yeah. Just don’t nibble on me and I won’t have to do something about it, okay?” Elayne tried to joke, exhausted. “Let’s get some sleep. There is a place I need to check out once we can walk again.” And there was still the matter of that new Dragonshout she had learned. From Captured Dreams of all things!
[#!/bin/bash/POV]
Not far away from the erstwhile women, Elenwen was in pursuit. A very bedraggled pursuit. That vampire bitch had destroyed her ankle. Absolutely ruined it. Her achilles tendon was just gone. Healing had stopped the bleeding but prevented Elenwen from using her own damned feet. But she wasn’t about to let those artifacts slip through her grasp! So she had a plan. Ice atronachs would be able to carry her, even if she knew the atronachs despised being summoned for such a purpose. But she wasn’t about to summon a dremora and risk that kind of battle of wills just to chase down two wayward fools.
Helgen was infested with bandits, as per usual with these Nords. Their children would find ruins to play in, and as they grew older those despicable children would then claim the ruin as their own, and become the symptomatic problem that afflicted this entire continent. Her leg pulsed in pain, as she arrived at yet another crossroad. She had tried the north road first, assuming that Elayne would return to her haunts in Whiterun. But the woman didn’t do that. She instead seemed to go west. South was to the borders of Cyrodiil, and unlikely. But the pack of hungry wolves she ran into on the road north would have attacked Elayne without preamble.
Which of course left the western road. “Lakeview?” She wasn’t familiar with the term. A manor that she wasn’t familiar with? Who in Skyrim had failed to report such a thing! “That way!” She said imperiously to her daedra. The ice atronach lumbered down the road, the mountain flowers recently picked. Around the bend of the hill, and past a small pool of water there was a truly incredible manor. It had a tower, as well as sprawling farmland. All of it was being worked by men and women with collars around their necks. Certainly not what she expected to see.
A dunmer noticed her immediately, wearing what appeared to be a set of Dragonscale armor. Elenwen was internally furious. Whoever failed to report this was going to die a second death once the vampires had finished with them and Elenwen had brought a team of justiciars to cleanse the Thalmor who had been turned. There would be hell to pay. “First Emissary.” The dunmer spoke. “We did not expect you.” There was something of a warning in her tone.
“I am injured.” Elenwen clearly spoke. “May I avail myself of your hospitality?”
“Of course.” The dunmer snapped her fingers, as two large Nords carried a bench over to her. “Let me get the master of the house.”
There were not very many Dunmer in Skyrim of note. She didn’t look like the Morag Tong bitch that belonged to Baalgruf. Nor was she the priestess of Azura that was a complete blasphemer. Elenwen sat, her body aching from lost blood and injuries. One of the bandits had struck her with a glass arrow of all things. The sharp malachite tore muscle as it had been removed. Combined with every other cut and scratch she had received getting off of the Snow Tower, and Elenwen was in no condition to chase down the two foolish women. She at least knew they were going west. Probably to those daedra worshipping Forsworn.
At least she still had something to use. One page from that black book was still inside of her breastband. She still had gold in her boots and gems sewn into her hairband. Elayne had not taken too much of importance. As she mused upon this a male Dunmer exited the manor house, pushing both doors open wide. He was wearing some kind of noble robes, but the clasps holding it together were made from a bone of some kind. A crown sat upon his brow, imbued with twenty four jewels. “What do we have here?” He said darkly. His red eyes roved over her, paying special attention to her robes and her foot. “I haven’t seen such prudish robes in a decade.”
“Prudish?” Elenwen was confused. “I’ll have you know-”
“Silence.” His voice was harsh. “I thought I told you to never leave the embassy unless I gave you specific permission!” He growled. “Here, I’ve got potions that can cure even the worst of wounds. That leg will become infected or crippled without this.” He held up a deep red potion. The color was suspicious.
“That seems too dark a red for a health potion.” She pointed out.
“Perhaps to the unlearned. But daedra heart is a very powerful ingredient. It adds a certain flavor to a potion and a potency that allows you to recover from wounds in a way that normal potions would not.” The dunmer smoothly explained. “Now, drink up. I won’t have you dying in my front yard.”
The Thalmor had a rule about never trusting anyone who offered you a potion. But there was also a degree of necessity involved. Daedra hearts did in fact heal grievous injuries that normally would cripple someone. She had kept one in her drawer just in case of assassination attempts back in the embassy. So she drank it. The effect was immediate, as her heel began knitting itself back together. The potion was beyond potent! It was rushing through her, fixing the arrow injuries as well! But the moment after the healing stopped, she groaned in pain as her magicka started draining. Her hands grasped for spells that would not come, as she felt her supply of divine justice drain away to nothing. “What have you done?”
“That’s not Elenwen.” The female dunmer from before spoke up. “Look, her hair is shorter. And she doesn’t have the scar.”
The male Dunmer had a gleam in his eye as he snapped his fingers. Both Nords who had carried the bench surged forwards, grabbing Elenwen in their arms. “She is an enigma. An infiltrator from Mephala? Or perhaps a Thalmor ply to attempt something? Either way, this is a gem that has fallen into my lap. Janessa, darling,” He turned to the female Dunmer. “Fetch the wagon. I am going to Dayspring Canyon.” From his robes, he drew a lacquered wooden box. Popping it open, she saw with rising horror a full set of moonstone and gilded quicksilver restraints.
“The Queen’s restraints!”
“Oh yes. I did promise I would have you, Elenwen. Or whoever you claim to be. Hold her down. It is so rare that I get to enjoy an Altmer, after all.” He grinned, stepping closer with a heavy band of moonstone that Elenwen knew was aimed for her throat. “You may call me Master Helseth. Or rather, you will have no choice in the matter once this is around your neck. You belong to Shashev Helseth now, bitch.”
Elenwen screamed.
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Skyrim: Plaything