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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
4-202-04-27 04:47
Underpall Keep South Wing, Underpall Cave, Bruma County, Cyrodiil
We continue clearing this dim, rather disgusting dungeon until we encounter a woman Alavva who sticks out by not attacking us. We talk a little and I learn that she is Cadius's sister. They were both magically talented and struggled to find a proper teacher. Cadius chose to go through all the slow and boring official training to join the Synod. Alavva chose a different path and ended up reviving her own dead father. Then she feels she's talked enough and now it's time to kill me and my followers. She awakens several zombies, but we still win.
We exit the dungeon without delay. It's a nice weather outside. We have plenty of time to travel east and visit Anga as planned.
The path from here to the main east-west road is lined with skulls on spikes every 10 or 20 meters. On the main road, we run past a troll and then a Khajiit skooma-seller whom I decide not to kill because this isn't Skyrim. Already approaching Greenwood, we hear a woman cry out for help.
It's a medical herb gatherer attacked by three highway robbers. We kill the bandits and then discover a very beautiful shrine to Akatosh in the vicinity.
We sit and chat a little with the people in Greenwood and then proceed to Anga on the eastern bank of the river. It's as elegant and majestic and mysterious as ever. I feel exhilarated walking among those massive and yet so airy structures.
This time, there are no mages or ghosts or such. Just a few rats.
Out in the sunshine and greenery, we enjoy the river for some time.
Then we head for Bruma. We encounter a traveler and find a house with a dead man and several mudcrabs in the cellar (the mudcrabs have eaten parts of his body, so it's not a pretty sight), and as the sun gets lower, we rise higher and by the time we've reached Bruma Eastern Watchtower, it's almost dark and a snowfall has started.
Ereia greets us joyfully. I take her aside and ask her if she has any idea how to put pressure on the shop-owner Cedus so that he would take back his false accusation against Dar'taqto.
Ereia says she can certainly take care of this small matter.
"Just like that? Are you sure?"
"Absolutely. Consider it done."
"Ereia, I'm very grateful."
"Oh, don't mention it. But there is something you ought to do in turn."
"What's that?"
"Have a serious word with your boyfriend."
I assure her I will. Then I remember something else.
"Are female guards especially fond of Dar'taqto?"
"Not as far as I know. What makes you think so?"
"Crouches-In-Crevices told me."
Ereia seems to have difficulties remembering him. "Is it that slimy Argonian?"
"He's not very tall and not very talkative, hangs around at The Restful Watchman a lot. I don't know how slimy he is."
"Yes, that's the one. Um, I guess he wanted to make you feel bad. Or he thought it was funny to suggest it. I assure you, Laura, the women around here are not as fond of Khajiit men as you are."
I'm taken aback by the last remark. Have my followers been blabbing? Or, well, my being Dar'taqto's girlfriend is not exactly a secret. Ereia could have heard it anywhere.
"Why is Crouches-In-Crevices always so grumpy?" I ask.
"I've no idea. I don't follow the lives of the city thieves much."
Fine. I thank Ereia and proceed to the city. I leave my girls at the inn and head for the Synod headquarters. I'm baffled to see Hulgard and Eddvia walk along the street almost holding hands.
Curiosity is killing me, but I'm reluctant to disturb their evident bliss, so I settle for a smile and a nod.
I make conversation with several mages, trying cautiously to find out anything about Razzada. Then Cadius walks in and I give him the sad news about the leader of the Underpall Cave necromancers having been his sister. Rather than ask him about Razzada right now, I decide to let him have some privacy to process the news. I walk to the palace where I wear my beautiful blue Cyrodiilian dress.
Most countriers seem to tave already retired to their living quarters and such. The luxurious dining hall is empty, but the maid Urma offers she can bring me a bite to eat.
I take her up on her offer, not that I'm so hungry, but I hope to hear something interesting. All I do learn is that she is very close to the servant Farsvar, a balding man with a mustache. Oh, and the thalmors have been expelled. They are only maintaining an embassy in Imperial City. This is good and bad – the priest of Saint Martin is no longer going to be harassed, but my arch-enemy Armion will be out of my reach.
I walk around some more.
This is the palace kitchen.
A really stunning discovery awaits me around 11 in the evening when I happen to notice the viscount Marcius and my ex-friend Afanna going into her bedroom – and they are holding hands, and not only that. Well, I'm glad she has found the strength to move on.
I return unhurriedly to my inn. I hope Dar'taqto doesn't want me again so soon. Or, yeah, I don't have anything particular against it, but I'm not too eager either. I have so much to think about.
Not seeing my boyfriend in the taproom, I sit with Lydia and Ambric for a while. I mean, if they want privacy, they can always go downstairs, can't they?
When it's almost 1 in the night, I decide I'll turn in.
The moment I have stepped into my room, something grabs me from behind. Should I shriek, I wonder as I'm carried across the room and thrown face down onto the bed.
"I'll take it off!" I plead as fingers fumble with my dress. "Please don't tear it! I love this dress, it's so beautiful."
The hands hesitate. I look back over my shoulder as well as I can, and say: "I'm sorry I recognized you."
Khajiit hands feel very different from human ones.
"But it could have been another Khajiit," says Dar'taqto, letting me turn onto my back.
I move my nose like sniffing. He laughs.
I don't mean to suggest he stinks. Not at all. Most of you probably could touch Dar'taqto's (or most other Khajiits') chest or arm with your nose and not smell anything at all. But I've had a lot of practice and I've always been very sensitive to scents to begin with.
While I get up and strip naked for him, Dar'taqto is literally devouring me with his eyes. You have no idea how arousing it is. Or maybe you have.
"I caught you," he informs me, "so now you are my prey. I haven't decided yet what to do with you. Maybe I will eat you for dinner, and maybe I will let you live."
"Please spare me!" I beg. "Look at this body!" I bounce my breasts with my hands. "Think of what kind of pleasure it can give you. You can use me in any way you want. Just don't eat me! I'm too young to die."
I don't think my act is very convincing. We both grin and I step closer to the bed. Dar'taqto looks meaningfully at my butt. I shrug and get on all fours. I can understand he feels he has to do it at least once, to be able to feel his conquest of me is complete or something like that. Men are so strange in some aspects, be they human or Khajiit.
When I sense him get up on his knees and approach my behind, I even feel naughty enough to bend myself like a stretching cat. But soon he makes me far from amused.
It hurts a lot more than with a human penis. And it lasts incredibly long.
Afterwards we lie there in embrace and he is smart enough to keep his mouth shut and let me cry. In fact, by the time I've composed myself, he has already fallen asleep. I take a health potion, cover us with a blanket and follow his example.
next awakening
