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The Tenth Hold	By : Singalmo Category: +A through F > Elder Scrolls - Skyrim Views: 23706 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Elder Scrolls : Skyrim, or anything related to it. This fiction is purely for entertainment and I do not profit from it in any way.

Chapter List
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Seved was honestly surprised at just how much he could get done in the span of a month on his own. Sometimes he’d taken Lydia with him, sometimes he’d done things on his own. He was glad he’d been by himself when he went to the Eldergleam sanctuary to retrieve a bit of sap. Spriggans were not friendly creatures if they felt you were threatening their groves, which generally meant you’d gotten too close to their trees. Hearing the wind in the branches of the Gildergreen, however, seemed to reassure him that while Spriggans were not so forgiving, Kynareth was still pleased with what he’d done.

Seved had done enough things around Whiterun that people were beginning to recognize him. He’d joined the Companions though he was not precisely a full member yet, still a whelp, but it was enough for most people. Balgruuf had even called him up to Dragonsreach a few times to ask for his opinion on certain matters. He was a respected member of the hold now, and growing wealthier. Farengar was even warming up to him a bit as they talked about magic and alchemy. Seved liked that. He wasn’t just another citizen like he had been in Anvil. He was truly a Thane of Whiterun, someone that people could look up to, could respect for more than just a title.

It was this respect which had caused Fralia Gray-Mane to invite him into her home one evening. Eorlund was still up at the Skyforge, but her son, Avulstein, was there, and he was jumpy. Fralia had talked her son down and Seved had been happy to listen to their situation. The time had finally come which Seved had somewhat dreaded. The feud between Gray-Mane and Battle-Born ran deeper than anyone thought. Avulstein’s brother, Thorald, was missing.

The respect he had earned as thane gave him ready access to the Battle-Born household. Seved had a long conversation with Olfrid about plausible deniability. This had given him access to a private study. Olfrid had conveniently misplaced the small journal which rode quietly in Seved’s pocket back to the Gray-Mane house.

It was not enough, however, to convince Avulstein to stay home once they knew where his brother was. Seved well understood the stubborn nature of Nords, being one himself, and finally relented, but on the condition that Avulstein would wait for him and follow his lead once they got to Northwatch keep.

Now he was astride his horse, slowly plodding down the road between Whiterun and Solitude, the first major leg of the journey to the keep. His thoughts wandered briefly to Saadia, who had effectively become his mistress over the past month. The woman who had finally admitted who she was, a noble from Hammerfell, on the run from people who very much wanted her dead. He’d listened to both sides and had managed to locate someone who did know what had happened. Seved now somewhat regretted handing Saadia over to the Alik’ir. She had been such a delicious fuck over that month and he was loathe to give her up. Still, she had betrayed her city to the Thalmor, a group that Seved had no love for. If she was truly as clever as he felt she was, she would find a way out of it. She’d probably come after him, too. He shook his head.

Seved had long given up the illusion that life was fair. Life being fair was a lie that priests told people to give them hope. Life being unfair was simply an excuse that people gave to justify their own cruelty or otherwise unjust actions. In truth, life was neither fair nor unfair. As he paused before the inn in Rorikstead to let his horse drink from the water trough, he recalled the day when his mother first told him that life was unfair. She had not been angry when she’d said it to him. She had been saddened, and a little matter-of-fact about it. He was six at the time and had complained about one of the admittedly snotty rich kids having better things, and not sharing. It was unfair, to be sure, and for a child of six it was a big deal. Ilse, his mother, had simply sighed and told him that life was unfair. To see his own mother that sad about such a thing had hurt him then. She went on to explain to him that things would happen that could not be helped, that could not be explained, and that would not be fair. Such things were going to happen and there was not much that could be done. Yet, despite all of that, it was and would be alright. And Ilse had made things alright. She’d pulled him up into her lap then to comfort him and he helped her with the sewing the rest of the day.

Seved closed his eyes, remembering his mother’s scent as he was that close to her. He then looked skyward and smiled, silently thanking her for teaching him to sew.

Horse and rider refreshed, Seved pressed onward. How much trouble had he gotten into over the span of a month? Riften had been an adventure and a half, to be sure. Joining the Thieve’s Guild and stealing a contract from the Dark Brotherhood in a single day was a tall order, but the old woman had deserved her death. The orphanage was supposed to be raising children so that if they weren’t adopted, they would be ready to be adults when they came of age. Not a place of fear and loathing. When it was all said and done, he quietly paid the young woman from the stables to come in and help the young boy so he wouldn’t have to return to the orphanage. Even without Grelod, he was sure the boy didn’t want to go back, and that the young assistant would sleep better without young Aventus present. He had not yet had the courage to go up to High Hrothgar. His mind drifted to the College and what he would likely be doing over the next term. He frowned as he thought of Ancano, their Thalmor guest. He wanted to throw that elf into a wall. He was not the kind of man who rubbed you the right way.

Seved’s mind wandered a bit. He’d done some more exploring of Skyrim. He was well on his way to being a thane in Winterhold and Falkreath. The Jarl there even wanted to give him a plot of land on which to build a manor house. He wondered briefly if he could manage to be named as a thane in all nine holds of Skyrim. Wouldn’t that be something?

He spurred past the bandit toll which blocked part of the road. They would give up the chase quickly enough and it wouldn’t be much longer before he was in Dragon Bridge. He had decided he would stop there to spend the night so he would be fresh when he finally got to Northwatch. Since the Empire didn’t want to remove his head from his shoulders, he had no qualms about staying so close to Solitude. The town was a little bit larger than most of the villages he’d seen along the roads, though that was more due to the way in which it sat along the slope of the mountain than anything else. He dismounted and led his horse up to the hitching post before stepping into the tavern to rent a room for the night.

The tavern girls looked just as appetizing as the roasted rabbit and cooked vegetables that were on the night’s menu. He ate and drank plenty, for the most part keeping to himself, though he would still talk to the drunks when they stumbled over and struck up conversation with him. No sense in being mean to them, after all. Still, the girls were quite nice to watch. There was a Breton girl, young, barely a woman, but already shaping up to be a fine one. She was light skinned and had chestnut brown hair that hung down to the small of her back in a thick, loose braid. She was well proportioned, already developing nice curves, and still nicely petite. Her bosom had a nice swell to it and her hips had a sweet curve which flowed into a nice, round little rump which begged to be grabbed. It wasn’t just her figure that was pleasing, though. Her face was lovely and would grow to be rather striking, he was sure. Large, green eyes with long lashes that framed them perfectly, a pert little nose, high cheekbones, and pleasantly full lips. One of those faces you could look at for hours. By the third time she’d served him more mead, he noticed that she’d just put a hint of carmine on her lips, which gave them a sweet little pout. He’d wanted to kiss those lips, but restrained himself. He’d rather play a little game first. She had smiled so sweetly at him as she offered more mead that he almost melted. Such fresh innocence was a treat.

“Thank you, sweet lady.” He had smiled at her, a genuine smile, with just the barest hint of suggestiveness to it. It was one he’d mastered in his years as a sailor. It often got him an extra round of mead on the house. She had blushed at him then, bidding him welcome before needing to scurry off to serve more drinks. He watched her as he savored his food and drink. Sure, she flirted a little with the drunks, but she had specifically put the carmine on her lips before serving him. Now she could barely meet his gaze without blushing and smiling. He smiled back each time, which made her smile wider, a natural smile, an easy smile. Yes, she would do nicely for his little game. He began to flirt in earnest, little things when she was near him, like letting his fingers brush the back of her hand when she handed him a fresh bottle of mead, or smiling whenever he caught her glancing in his direction. The tavern was at its noisiest when he had slipped into his room, with a wink and a smile in her direction. A simple invitation, should she choose to take it. Sure enough, when no one was looking, she slipped into the room after him, the excitement coloring her cheeks.

Girls this young were easy to play this game with and Seved liked that about them. He’d mastered this particular performance many years ago and it was a rare occasion that it did not work, at least not immediately. This, however, was the perfect time. The tavern was noisy with rowdy customers and soldiers and music, and now here she was in his room. She had just shut the door behind her, excited, blushing, and nervous. It was that good kind of nervous, though, one Seved knew well. The happy sort of nervous when you know something good is going to happen but you don’t know precisely what. He held his finger to his lips, smiling, and approached her slowly. He was a good foot taller than she was, and understandably bulkier. His sheer size made her scoot to a more solid wall and press against it, trying to take in all of this stranger who had flirted with her. He lifted her chin gently with his index finger and thumb and kissed her. It was a soft, warm, inviting, and passionate kiss. The kind that calms, reassures, and promises to have much more following it. He felt her tremble, felt her breath quicken, he noted her heaving breasts as he pulled back slowly.

“I... I can’t stay long...” She panted softly, marveling at the giant Nord.

“I know,” he whispered lustily in her ear, “I’ll make this quick.” He grinned, his fingers slipping into her chemise, stroking her soft breasts. “Promise you’ll come back for more?” She shivered at his touch and he knew his answer already. She would come back whenever he wanted.

“I promise.” She whispered the words breathily as his fingertips brushed her nipple. His movements were swift and precise. He knew what he wanted, what would be easiest to fix, and what would please both of them the most at that moment. He pulled the front of her chemise down, freeing her breasts, planting soft, sucking kisses over them as he worked. She gasped and moaned softly as he sucked on her nipples, which made him throb a little in response. He lifted her skirt and knelt before her, hooking his fingers into her panties. He grinned, watching her blush harder as he pulled them down. He kissed her netherlips and shivered. She was fresh, untouched, untaken. He knew by the scent, the taste, and her reactions. He buried his face there for a long moment, savoring the taste of her fresh womanhood. By Sanguine he loved seizing a virgin girl! It was a delight to open such a thing to a new world of pleasure. The only thing more fun was when a girl this young was already a happy little slut that you only needed to find a slightly more private place to bend her over and just fuck her. He lapped several times at the girl’s opening. She tasted divine. He loved this part of a woman, so eager for attention. No matter what a woman’s mind or mouth said, her pussy told the truth of whether she wanted something or not. This girl was ready, but he knew he would need to be swift to cause as little pain as possible. He kept her skirt lifted as he opened his pants, freeing his member. He stood slowly pressing against her, his hands under her skirt, holding her rump. He pulled back long enough to lift her up and she took his direction easily, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. One swift motion and he was inside her to the hilt. He held her, suspended in the air like this, letting her get used to his girth for a moment. By the Nine she was a tight little thing! So hot and wet and just, well, perfect. He kissed her deeply, letting her relax a little before he began to thrust, lifting her ass slightly each time. She couldn’t help her moans, they were loud and pure, the sound of a woman being taken fully for the first time. He loved that sound, her tightness, her body against his. She was too tight, though, he couldn’t hold back. He thrust savagely into her as he came, filling her with his seed. He pushed her against the wall, still impaled on his member, holding her up with one arm while his other hand slid between them, finding her clitoris. He experimented a little, starting slow and gentle, then a little harder, a little faster, finding just the right pressure to send her into a loud, blissful moan. He felt her sex quiver around him and he grinned widely, kissing her deeply, holding it for a long moment.

“Hold your skirt up a bit longer.” He kissed her softly as he picked up a soft cloth from the nearby table. Slowly he withdrew from her and let her down to the floor. He slid the cloth between her legs, rubbing there just a little. “Let go, now. Don’t worry.” He kissed her again, feeling her juices, his seed, and her maiden blood soak the cloth in his hand as he rubbed gently, cleaning her up. He wiped himself on the cloth then and tossed it back to the table. He kissed her once more as he helped her back into her panties and straightened her chemise once more, noting that her nipples were still quite hard and showing. He smiled at her. “When will you be back?”

“Another hour and things will calm down for the night. Then I’ll be back.” She panted softly, grinning at him. “Promise me more of that?”

“As sure as Dibella gave me the gifts of pleasure, I promise you, there will be plenty more of that.” He kissed her again before letting her slip out the door. He waited for the door to shut before he grinned widely and picked up the cloth from the table. “I suppose I should start a new collection.” he smirked to himself, admiring the stained cloth. He hid it in the wardrobe to let it dry. He peeled off his shirt and slid out of his boots before laying back on the bed, one hand idly stroking his member. Yes, he was going to make sure that tonight was quite lovely for the girl.
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The Tenth Hold