Sword of St. Michael #9

Story by bluedraggy on SoFurry

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#39 of Sampson and Devilah

The Sword and the Scabbard

In which the real reason Keerava wants to marry Talen-Jei is revealed, Sampson and Devilah make Love, and midnight arrives.


| Sampson and Devilah returned to the Bee and Barb to eat. While Devilah was certainly disappointed in what Sampson had chosen to do while she was away, he had commitments to Keerava that he had to keep, so she found herself in a back room talking with Keerava while Sampson went out to do some roof repairs.

"Well he certainly has improved a lot in just a few hours, I must say," Keerava admitted. "I suppose you will be leaving soon though. I'll miss having him around you know."

Devilah noted the sincerity in the Argonian's voice. "I imagine so! It must be nice having a hero fix your roof!" she said, smiling and hoping she managed to leave any snarkyness out of her voice. She had been unexpectedly kind to Sampson after all..

| | | "Didn't look like any hero yesterday! But you're right. It's good you're back... I guess."

"Um... Keerava... About that night."

Keerava shook her head. "Weren't no night. And nobody's said a thing to Sampson. I suspect if they had, they'd have lost their head by now."

"Or something..." Devilah agreed.

| | | "That's good," Devilah purred. "Things might have gotten a little out of hand."

Keervara leaned close to Devilah. "I'll say! I'm pregnant!"

| | | "Pregnant?!" Devilah sputtered. "Talen-Jei?"

"I have to assume so. He's the only Argonian that was here. Unless some fertility deity has been messing with biology again! No thanks to you..."

"I'm sorry Keerava. These things just happen around me. I didn't intend..."

| | | "Oh hush girl. It's not like you forced me to. Besides, I could use a little clutch around here. I'll need to take a vacation to the Black Marsh, but I'm kinda looking forward to the little squirts. I suppose I'll have to marry that damned guy. I'll be lucky if I don't catch a new batch of eggs every damn time with him in my bed! Still, don't tell him. I'll get him to propose and sleep with him after that. It'll be close enough."

"Well, if we get a chance, we'll drop back in sometime and see your... brood."

"Do that. I'll name one of them after you."

"You'd name one 'Devilah'? That's very sweet of you. It's certainly not an Argonian name!"

"Oh, not 'Devilah'. 'Horny Fucking Cat'. But it sounds better in Jel."

| | | When Devilah had recovered herself, she gave Keerava a hearty slap on the back. "You're okay Keerava!"

"Don't get too friendly, Dev, the others might think we're lovers!"

"Well... we kinda... were there for a few minutes."

"SHHH!" Keerava hissed, but then added conspiratorially, accompanied by a firm slap on Devilah's ass, "...and it was a half hour at bare minimum."

| | | The afternoon passed slowly till Sampson returned, after his work was done. He looked like all grin and ears when he walked in the door and he swept Devilah off her feet. "Come on Devilah, we're going out!"

It turned out Sampson had been doing more than just working on the roof all day. In fact, he'd gotten a commission from the Jarl to do a small task and had received a bit of coin for it. So he'd bought a small present for the Khajiit and they spent the early evening strolling around outside Riften.

| | | Then they returned to their room where Keerava had sent up a special dinner - no charge.

There the two talked for a while, and then made love gently but passionately as if for the first time. Devilah knew better of course, but she was overcome with emotion when finally Sampson collapsed on top of her and she felt him slowly withdraw as he fell to sleep there. This, she decided, would be their 'official' first time. Though less energetic and voluminous than the real first time, it had been much more passionate. The acrobatics could come later. If there was a later.

| | | Suddenly as she dozed, she realized it was approaching midnight. She slid from underneath Sampson and quietly dressed again. She looked around and found the Sword. Had she not seen it in action, she would have thought it was the same as any sword really. It was large, but not particularly ornate or even rust-free. Still, she knew undoubtedly that this was indeed the Sword of St. Michael. A hum of power throbbed underneath her hands as she lifted it up the likes of which she had never experienced before. | | | She shut the doors to the room, but didn't dare to take the sword downstairs where late night customers might notice her. Instead she opened the portal right there and took the sword with her. Agrat was there, waiting. | |