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SPOILER INFO
This fanfic novel is largely based on the events that occurred in an actual game of Skyrim I played. Therefore, it's inevitably a spoiler.
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previous day
4-202-02-25 05:23
Arch-Mage's Quarters, Winterhold, Winterhold, Skyrim
I see Valdimar who has evidently appeared next to me in the bed while I was asleep. He is awake and has an erection, but I'm not sure if he wants to. So I just put my arm over his chest and my head on his shoulder and lie there. His hand caresses my back lazily and then he makes a sign that he wants it after all. I turn my back on him. Valdimar has told me that's his favorite position in the morning. I feel his hand on my hip and then he enters me. I'm very wet.
He takes his time, moving it slowly. I begin to moan audibly. Lydia and Jordis are now coming to see if we're already up. They are fully dressed and I guess I keep getting louder realizing they'll let me have Valdimar all to myself this morning. I relish the sensation of the amazing invader touching me deep down and big strong hands eagerly exploring parts of my body.
Lydia and Jordis approach our bed. Lydia looks at Jordis and says:
"I think she likes it."
What kind of a perverse amusement have the two come up with this time, I wonder. I close my eyes. My head is filled with Valdimar's panting. The pleasure is getting unbearable.
"Why is her face red?" asks Jordis innocently.
"I don't know. Wait, maybe she's having an orgasm?"
"What's orgasm?"
"Jordis, orgasm is what happens to a woman when her wet cunt is being fucked by a big hard cock and it belongs to a man whom she finds very, very attractive."
Jordis steps closer and pulls the blanket away. "You're right. He is fucking her cunt."
"See, his hand is squeezing her tit now!" says Lydia with faked surprise. "Do you think she's enjoying it!"
"Well, my guess is Laura just loves having her tits fondled. However, we won't know for sure until she begins to scream."
Damn you, I shout under my breath. I will scream in a moment all right, but can you two sluts just shut up?
And then I do scream as Valdimar's fingers squeeze my nipple, and then the other one, and he moans loudly, and I keep screaming, and I try to move my lower body to take him into me deeper still, but it's impossible, I can only wait for him to push it in deeper if he chooses to, and in fact he's already in as deep as it would go, and then he gently bites my shoulder and I feel his convulsions inside me and I scream with every breath I take.
I open my eyes for half a second and see Lydia and Jordis kneeling right in front of the bed watching me with fascinated awe. I close my eyes again. My moans get softer. When Valdimar has given me everything he has to give and his moans have turned into fast heavy breathing, I turn around to put a leg over him and press as much of my body surface against him as I can. I say over my shoulder: "You had your fun. Now put that blanket back and get out."
"Yes, Mylady," the girls say formally. I can't tell if they're mocking me or are worried they might have crossed the line. Jordis picks up the blanket and they lay it neatly over us. I feel my hair stroked for a second. I think it's Lydia. Then they leave quietly.
I'm so happy. You have no idea how happy I am.
After we've gotten dressed and bathed, I go to the library to tell Ertzebet about yesterday evening with Onmund, because she can't be there to hear it when I decide to discuss it with my followers in a day or two from now.
She says she can't imagine something like that happening to her. Yeah, I guess that's how we all feel until we find a man with whom we can imagine anything. Onmund, though... he really surprised me. Whether in a good way or bad, remains to be realized.
Ertzebet asks me if anything is still visible on my buttocks. No, I don't think so. At least I couldn't notice anything in the mirror earlier.
We talk a little bit about her still-no-progress-with-Drevis and not-yet-fed-up-with-Alec, and then I go to find out if Enthir has anything exciting to sell. I meet Arniel on the staircase and say cheerfully: "Hi, bungler! Blown anything up recently?" If looks could destroy, I think half of the College would be in ashes after this.
Having spoken to Enthir, I go to the College courtyard and am pleased to see Lydia and Jordis have had enough sense to go and fetch Jenassa in the meantime. Either that or Jenassa has had enough sense to come to meet us. I'm now taking her back as my active follower.
I'd like to ask Lydia and Jordis if my butt was red when they saw it earlier in the bedroom, but firstly I don't want Valdimar to know I had a reason to have a red butt, and secondly I couldn't bear hearing the girls' wisecracks about which parts of my body were red even though my butt wasn't.
I'm glad I won't have to travel to Windhelm with Valdimar. I'm sure he knows how to behave, but still I'll feel a lot safer in Windhelm when there isn't room for situations someone might misunderstand and report to Yrsarald. By the way, Valdimar is most fascinated with the College and especially the library which he, as my companion, is allowed to visit. Having spent most of his life in Morthal, he hasn't even seen many books, and, quite frankly, Hviterun isn't much better in that respect. That's why he intends to stay here for a while.
I hug my big strong lover goodbye and run to the south, towards Amol City with the girls. Even though most of the sky is covered with gray clouds, the weather is nice – clear, not too cold and without snowfall. I'm having this strange feeling I ought to remember something I've forgotten. I mean, I know I have memory loss, but right now I'm like on the verge of recalling something important, yet I can't quite grab it.
Just before the entrance to Amol City, we find a Khajiit skooma seller. I tell him absent-mindedly to find himself a new occupation, and we keep running towards the town.
We find out that I did indeed sell my Staff of Magnus here and they've still got it. Luckily for me, practising mages have no use for that kind of a thing and no rich weirdo collector has found his way to this remote smalltown.
I propose we celebrate the completion of this long and arduous search at the local inn. In fact, I just want to sit down for a while. Talking to the shopkeeper and the market trader has briefly taken my mind off the elusive memory, and now that I got the Staff of Magnus back, a huge load has fallen off my shoulders. All of a sudden, I now remember the names of my siblings. My elder brother's name is Cortoran and my younger sister's is Elanna. Cortoran, as you already know, is 7 years my elder, and now I remember Elanna is 4 years younger than me.
"Family name?" asks Lydia after I've told them all this.
"Masierri," I reply without thinking. Wow! I can't believe I know that too!
We're all in smiles. My followers are so happy for me.
"And the most important thing..." I say, forcing my expression to become very serious. During my dramatic pause, smiles on the girls' faces are replaced by grave attention. Only Lydia seems to have recognized I'm faking.
"I now know my exact age," I proclaim. "I'm 24, not 23 as I used to think. Meaning," I turn to Jordis, "I'm not just 5 days older than you. I'm 1 year and 5 days older than you. So you'd better watch your tongue around me, kid."
"Wrap my tongue around you? I don't think I can do that, Laura."
In spite of myself, I laugh out loud. Then I turn to Jenassa and say seriously: "I fear we will soon have another Lydia on our hands."
"You mean, you will?"
"Well, yeah." I look at Lydia and say: "No, on second thought, I don't think there'll ever be anyone quite like Lydia."
We look deep into each other's eyes until Jordis says: "You two wanna get a room or are we going to Windhelm today?"
Lydia looks at her in a way that promises nothing good. I say: "Yeah, we'd better get a move on. You two can fight it out in Windhelm while I am..." I don't know how to end the sentence.
"Begging for mercy?" Lydia says.
I'm at loss for words. I might well be.
"Lead the way, Laura Masierri," says Jenassa.
I still can't remember my father's first name. I have many scenes in my mind's eye of sitting on his lap, following him around, hugging his thick arm, hiding behind his back whenever I felt threatened by something. But no name yet.
It's 11 o'clock. The weather is crisp. Everything looks so clear and the cold air is in fact pleasantly refreshing. We turn off the road like we have so many times in the past, and run over snowy hills. Occasionally I wonder quietly whom these or those small footprints might belong to.
"Jenassa, have you ever been spanked?" I ask as we wade slowly through the snow.
She nods. "I have. You have no idea."
"You don't have to tell about it if you don't want to. But I'm going to ask you from time to time."
Lydia laughs. "Good luck!"
We reach hard ground and start running again. I'm somewhat surprised to see the Stormcloaks have established a new military base north-northeast of the city. There's half a dozen tents, and the place is really a stone's throw away from the elven refugee camp which in turn is right outside the city walls.
After enquiring of the people in the camp about the situation, we enter the city. I go alone to the palace, stopping along the way to say hello to one or another old acquaintance.
Yrsarald greets me coldly. I'm shocked. What did I do? Is he going to dump me just because I killed Ulfric? I mean, I know murdering Ulfric Stormcloak was a very big deal, but Yrsarald acted like he was fine with it the last time.
Before my confused mind can formulate a coherent question, Yrsarald tells me to pay close attention. "You will now go to the room that so far has been known to you as my bedroom. You will strip naked. Leaving all you clothes and inventory in that room, you will go to what has been known to you as Ulfric's bedroom. The guards have been instructed not to enter either of those rooms while you or me are upstairs. They will, however, still patrol the corridors, so you must pick your moment and be very careful. Should anyone other than me see you in the palace in a state of undress, you will be punished. Any questions so far?"
"No, Mylord."
"Forget the "Mylord". Now, once in the formerly Ulfric's bedroom, you will lie down on the bed on your back. When I enter, you will open your legs and wait with your mouth closed and without trying to cover your breasts or pubes with your hands. If you need to go to toilet, you have to do it now before you go upstairs."
He lets me repeat it to make sure I have understood everything, and then tells me to carry the orders out.
I don't really have to go to toilet, but I do just in case. After that, I walk upstairs, say hello to the two guards and proceed to do exactly what Yrsarald told me to do. If he wants me naked, embarrassed and frightened, I can be reasonably sure that he doesn't intend to break up with me.
How can he know I'm not having my period, I wonder. Maybe he just forgot all about it. It's very lucky for both of us. Um... come to think of it, I would have warned him, of course.
I don't have to wait long for my lover to turn up. He gets out of his clothes without a word and makes me suck.
Once in full size, he takes me sideways. I'm rather heavily aroused already. Yrsarald is strangely emotionless, though. He uses me like a prostitute. I mean, I don't actually know how men do it with prostitutes, but Yrsarald seems to be just mechanically fucking me like he doesn't care who I am. I can't understand what's going on. I'm never seen him like this before.
After a while, he pulls out and sticks it into the other hole. It's painful, to say nothing of disappointing, but there's something so furious about him I don't even dare wail, let alone protest.
Fortunately, he soon pulls out, changes my position and sticks it where it belongs. Overwhelmed with gratitude, I almost feel my orgasm approaching.
He finishes with me lying face down.
When he comes, he rests his body on mine. Squeezed by his weight, I can barely breathe. Do you know this sensation as if you're surrounded by your man's body? I feel like Yrsarald is everywhere in- and outside me. I feel his warm release and I'm ecstatic from the realization of my ability to give pleasure. Yrsarald remains lying on top of me as if I were a mattress. I could never leave this bed until he chose to rise up. And now I come too. I wish I could hug or caress him or at least squeeze him with my vaginal muscles to somehow show him my admiration, but I've gone limp all over. I moan, struggling to breathe, and after a while I just lie there quietly.
When Yrsarald gets up and begins to get dressed, he makes me stand next to the bed. With his clothes back on, he sits down onto the bed. After the command to suck, he hasn't spoken one word to me.
"Do you feel in any way scary or creepy or weird being in the room where Ulfric's dead body was?"
I think carefully for several seconds, searching for any signs of discomfort. I can't find any. "No."
"Good." He goes out to the corridor, evidently to wave the guards out of sight. Then he orders me to return to the room where I left my things, and follows me.
He tells me this is now my room. The room in which we just made love (he uses a different expression) is his bedroom. From now on, whenever I come upstairs, I'm to leave everything in my room just like now. If Yrsarald hasn't ordered otherwise, I will sleep here. That way, if he happens to be away while I arrive, I will be at hand when he returns and feels like fucking, he explains me.
Then he goes over all the items in my inventory. He's very interested in various enchantments. I make bold to tell him about my plan to dramatically increase the number of archers in the armed forces of Skyrim and introduce horse-riding archers. He says he'll think about it and have I talked to Tullius about it? I say: no, I don't feel like talking about anything with that man.
Then comes the dreaded moment I've been mentally begging to be able to avoid somehow: Yrsarald notices the Whip Cane. As you can imagine, it's very awkward. For me, I mean. He seems to be enjoying it thoroughly, asking me if it has ever been used on me or if I have ever used it on someone. I end up telling him in general terms about punishing Rudelphine for intolerable haughtiness. He's not interested in details, but asks me if I would like him to whip me with it.
"Only if I've been very very bad," I say resolutely. I couldn't stand getting whipped for fun.
"But what if we do it for experiment's sake? I give you five lashes just so you will know exactly how painful it is?"
"Yes, that's all right, but please not today."
To my extreme relief he puts the whip away and moves on to... oh my, the strapons! This is possibly even more embarrassing.
Yrsarald wants to know more about them too, and I have to reveal I've had women use them on me and I haven't used them on other women. Fortunately, it doesn't occur to him to ask if I have used them on men.
He reads carefully every piece of paper I'm carrying. He says he'll keep the thalmor dossier on Ulfric. Then he orders me to get dressed and pick up my inventory.
When I stand in front of him, all decent and ready to go, he says: "Laura, I'm sorry that I was unable to defend you when Ulfric talked to you insultingly."
I hug him tightly. "It's nice of you to say it. I'm sorry I killed him without asking you first."
Now, actually I did the right thing by not telling Yrsarald, but I have been feeling bad about our trust not being as complete as between me and my followers. That's why I wanted to apologize even though if I had to do it again, I'd do it exactly the same way I did.
We go downstairs to his office. Yrsarald shows me the interrogation protocols of Maven's spy Anuriel. I don't care about the spying part, but I read carefully everything that has to do with the Thieves' Guild. And did they ask about the skooma... yes, here it is, good. She didn't really know any names, just hushed things up in the palace when Maven Black-Briar told her to. But the warehouse in the harbor is also mentioned in the protocols. Excellent! Yrsarald's boys know their business. From where skooma was being brought to the city, she doesn't know, though. That remains for me to find out.
They really seem to have squeezed everything out of Anuriel. The descriptions of her reactions to various torture methods in the protocols, brief as they may be, are quite horrible. I almost feel sorry for her.
Yrsarald wants to know if I have any further questions to Anuriel or can they execute him. I say: no, I don't need her.
Now he asks me what I've been doing recently and what my plans are. I tell him about everything non-sexual from recent days and say I'm headed for Bitchen to see how my expromptu citizen council is holding up. Good, says Yrsarald. He's going to send Laila to Bitchen tomorrow to be restored as the jarl. I'd better run ahead and make sure everything is ready for her. I say, yes, but my citizen council will still be guiding her. Yrsarald agrees, on the condition that orders that come from him personally are to be obeyed without backtalk. I'm okay with that.
Yrsarald has Laila summoned and informs her about our agreement.
"Have you remembered anything about your past in the meantime?" Yrsarald asks when we're alone again.
I wonder how long that meantime would be. "I have."
When I don't say anything more, Yrsarald says impatiently: "Well, let's hear it!"
"Oh. Sure. My parents were told..." I stop suddenly.
"What's wrong, Laura?"
"Sorry. I remembered this just now, the moment you asked if I had remembered anything." I begin to tell hesitantly: "My family was told that I was Dragonborn... practically at the last moment. They were informed that I was Dragonborn and would have to go to Skyrim. My mother understood immediately, but my father and siblings needed a lot of explaining and convincing. At any rate, the priests told them... how should I put it... told them that as long as my family would keep this a secret, the gods would protect me." Actually, it was my higher self who was meant to protect me, but the priests were afraid it would come across as weird. Neither do I think Yrsarald has any business knowing about my higher self.
Another thing I know now – there are more people like me who have a higher self. Quite many, possibly. But the laws of nature somehow make sure that even if such people exist at the same time, they can never physically meet each other. Don't ask me why. It's just how it is. I wonder if it were possible for people like us to write to each other. Before I can begin to wonder what would be the point of doing it, Yrsarald brings me back to the present moment with more questions.
I end up telling him a lot, without recalling any new lost memories, though.
Then Yrsarald tells me I'd better leave now.
I beg your pardon?
It's 7 o'clock in the evening, he explains. (Indeed it is. Heavens, how the time has flown!) I can just about make it to Bitchen tonight. Besides, there are rumors in the city that Yrsarald conspired with me to murder Ulfric. Galmar may be scheming to oust Yrsarald and he can't afford to have Galmar killed, as that would only confirm the rumors. That is the reason why he feels downcast today and might have not been the most pleasant companion, he says.
He plans to have copies made of the pertinent parts of the thalmor dossier. Hopefully, it won't be necessary to publish them, but he will if everything else fails. Until he has things under control, I'd better not show myself in Windhelm too much. And the discussion about his and my common future will have to be postponed until the next time.
I'd like to ask him if he at least sees a common future for us, but I can't find the right words and anyway this matter can't be discussed hastily. So I just ask him if I may kiss his dick right here. He stands with his back against the closed door and takes it out.
Adjusting his clothing again, Yrsarald tells me I'm to kill every bandit I encounter, as well as anyone involved in skooma trade in Skyrim. I ask what if it's an established trader whom the local community needs. Alchemists carry a little skooma sometimes, or at least moon sugar. He thinks briefly and then says I have to warn them that they are to keep away from skooma or they will be executed like common bandits. Moon sugar is all right, because it has legitimate alchemical uses as well.
Naturally, I refrain from asking Yrsarald what to do when a skooma trader is a handsome Khajiit. I shall stretch the term "an established trader" to include them.
We hug and kiss one last time and I leave.
In the throne hall, I notice a young woman who looks kind of profoundly sad. I stop to ask her what her name is.
The Alik'r Hood has no armor value, but I often wear it in settlements, because it's beautiful.
I have one that is gray and one that is red.
I have one that is gray and one that is red.
Bronwen, she replies.
Are you kidding me? Bronwen from Hviterun?
Yes.
The daughter of Raven?
Yes, that's his nickname.
Remember, I told you how me and my followers went to the Secret Enclave searching for Bronwen and couldn't find her? Well, it now turns out she was there, but she had somehow succeeded in hiding so that we didn't notice her in all the confusion, and after we had left, she found her way to the exit, sick from the sight of all those dead bodies. Sneaking stark naked, hiding in the bushes, she eventually reached Windhelm Stables and, almost dead from the cold and hunger, succeeded attracting the attention of the elven woman Arivanya who works there. She gave Bronwen some clothes and brought her to the palace. The steward allowed Bronwen to live at the stables (no, not with the horses; in the workers' quarters) and help out Arivanya who is most grateful because she hates horses. Bronwen likes them. In fact, after her captivity, she is happy of any creature who is friendly to her.
I inform Bronwen that Mendrell is hanging around further south. Until now, I've had no idea if that youngster's passionate feelings have been in any way reciprocated. Bronwen's reaction leaves no doubt they are. Well, I'm headed that way right now. Would she like to come along or would she like me to tell Mendrell she is here?
Bronwen says she'd love to see Mendrell, but she is reluctant to be ungrateful to the good people of Windhelm by leaving her job so abruptly. Therefore, she'd rather I tell Mendrell she is safe and ask him to join her in Windhelm. Then they will be able to figure out together what to do.
Now, what about her father?
Bronwen says she is earning money to be able to afford to return to Hviterun by horse cart, but it'll take time. Her father needs to be informed somehow, because he must be very worried about her. The way she says it, though, I'm having the impression she is not at all keen to reunite with her father. Therefore, I guess I won't tell Raven anything. The important thing is Bronwen is safe. The jerk of his father can go on worrying.
Realizing me and my followers were the ones to destroy Juvenal and his gang, Bronwen can't thank me enough. With her vowing eternal friendship and gratitude, we part cordially.
I go out and meet up with my girls. They say they saw many people look at them with strange hostility. I reply merely: let's go, I'll explain later.
Just because there are rumors in Windhelm, it doesn't mean country roads should be unusually dangerous. Nevertheless, I cut my followers' questions short and order our regular travel formation instead of just running side by side. That'll be with me in front, seemingly traveling alone, and the girls at some distance ready to come to my help quickly, should anything happen.
This is how I get attacked by a strange man between Kynesgrove and Vernim Wood, and by one more shortly after that. Of course, neither of them stands a chance against the four of us, but I'm getting a little worried. It's not just the two attacks on a relatively short stretch of the road. It's the attackers. Neither of them did look like those freelance robbers – you know, those ruthless fighters who roam Skyrim solo, preying on travelers and preferring to be called "thief" rather than "robber" or "bandit". Those two men rather made the impression of being sent on someone's orders. They didn't carry anything written, though, so it's just a hunch. Maybe I'm overthinking.
Mendrell is not in Fort Greenwall. We return to nearby Shor and ask the guard on the street. Sure enough, Mendrell is in Shor. He's helping the blacksmith and has been allowed to sleep in a house whose inhabitants lost their lives in a bandit raid.
We inform him Bronwen is alive and well in Windhelm, and is going to stay there for the time being, so he should go to her, but he'd better wait for a guarded caravan or a military convoy, because the road can get very dangerous.
The girls and I run to Bitchen now. At half past nine, the inn is packed with people, life seems perfectly normal and we feel very welcome here.
No rest for us yet, though. We must check out the Black-Briar Manor.
Ingun Black-Briar, Maven's gorgeous-looking daughter and a poison-brewing enthusiast, is at home this time. She doesn't try to hide her indignation over being visited by the enemies of her family. I inform her that she is sentenced to death as the gangster Maven Black-Briar's accomplice. Without any further ado, I kill her. She doesn't try to break loose or resist or beg.
After a quick visit to the palace to make sure everything is under control, we still have sufficient time to check out that warehouse which, according to that skooma-addicted Argonian woman Wujeeta, is the center of Bitchen's drug trade. As it has a lock that can't be picked, we take along half a dozen soldiers with tools for breaking the door down. Inside are three men who are waiting for us in the basement. They don't know about my Sense of Smell power thanks to which I know exactly where they are. It's still a somewhat messy fight, because there isn't enough room to maneuver.
After we've killed the criminals, we search the premises and find a note suggesting that a man named Kilnyr will be waiting with the next shipment of skooma in a place called Cragslane Cavern. The soldiers tell me it's south of Vernim Wood, reachable by a minor road.
Now I can finally say to Lydia I won't need her anymore tonight. She's itching to be with Maul. I tell her that with Maven dead, they can technically use the jarl's bedroom. She has figured that out already.
Jordis, Jenassa and I return to our house to have a good night's sleep. I know I ought to go and see my boyfriend Madesi, but I'm just not in the mood.
next awakening
