The Elder Scrolls: Hunter's Gift -- Part 1
#1 of TES:HG
The Elder Scrolls: Hunter's Gift
Part 1
by Artemis Dragmire
Warnings and Copyright Info:
The following story is based on a character I roleplayed in Bethesda Softworks The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion. As such, the setting belongs entirely to Bethesda Softworks, Inc., and all appropriate copyrights are entirely theirs. The characters belong to me, please do not re-use them for your own works without my permission. If you are reading this on FurAffinity, the icon artwork is a modified screenshot taken by me in-game.
This story contains sexual themes in explicit detail, so please do not read if such things offend you or if you are under the age of consent in your country. That said, please enjoy my first ever story I've posted online, not to mention my first attempt at writing a love story with sexual content!
I don't think I've ever felt a hotter day in my life. It could be the fact that I've been out here working for close to three hours now, or it could be the way the sun is glaring off of the cobblestones beneath my feet, or it could be a combination of the two; but I've been on planes of Oblivion that felt cooler.
I bend down to pick up another piece of the ruined south wall. The same wall the daedra had barricaded with one of their foul gates not three weeks ago during their assault on the city. Before the citizens can get to rebuilding, they need to clear huge pieces of mortar out of the way for new construction. It's tiresome work, and I am keenly aware of sweat running in rivulets down my arms and between my breasts.
My thoughts drift to how I ended up here, in the courtyard of the ruined city of Kvatch, helping the poor souls who live here rebuild their homes. It wasn't really my idea. Don't get me wrong, I think it's the proper thing to do. These people need all the help they can get in a time like this, but I wish I could have thought of a way to help them that was more my style. Heck, I'd even offer my services to boost the city garrison for a time, if I didn't already have Fighters Guild contracts to attend to next week.
I reach up with one chafed hand to wipe off the sweat slowly blinding me every time I bend down to help move another piece of rubble out of the way. I should really blame Del for this. He suggested we take the week I had available with no contracts to make the trip up here and help these people. I thought it was a great idea at the time. I also wasn't being roasted at the time. Damn that Argonian, he's probably enjoying the heat.
"You look like you could use a break." A somewhat raspy voice from behind me snaps me out of my self-misery at being cooked alive. "Here, I brought some water. I don't know how you warmbloods manage to be completely honest; it's a wonder you can survive while your body expels all its moisture like that." A scaled, claw-tipped hand appears in my vision, holding a very inviting-looking flask of clear water.
I grab the flask and gulp half of its contents. Guess I was thirsty. "I swear Del, the next time we need to rebuild a city, it had better be in Skyrim. I doubt your scaly butt would last five minutes in a blizzard." I turn to face the Argonian, a smile on my face. My eyes trace up the arm that brought the much-needed liquid and come to rest on its source. It seems the Argonian is enjoying the heat, at some point he must have removed his tunic, as my vision is fills with a view of the lighter scales that adorn his chest and belly. Del has enough modesty at least to keep his trousers on, a service no doubt appreciated by the townsfolk.
I allow my gaze to drift up to his face. Del looks back at me with those weird glowing eyes of his. Somehow an even deeper red than his scales, but they seem lit by some tiny lanterns inside his head. He explained it once to me, something about his constant exposure to magicka. I never really understood it. I tend to avoid magick wherever possible. When one has had the experiences I have had around the energies of the cosmos, one gets cautious.
I realize I've been staring into Del's eyes for long enough for my eyes to feel dry. He's grinning at me, sharp reptilian teeth a stark white against the red of the scales on his muzzle. "I don't know, I've read about snowstorms and they don't seem too bad. Besides, if things ever get too cold I can always put on more layers of clothing, or warm myself with a spell. But you humans seem to have it set in your mind that when you get warm the best thing to do is to expel all your moisture so you don't boil. So much for internally regulated body temperatures." He shrugs and motions with his claws for me to follow him as he turns, tail swaying behind him, as he begins moving back to the large chapel in the center of town. "Come along, we wouldn't want you to get sick out here. Let's go cool off for a bit."
I sigh and begin following my friend. He's right, I don't handle heat well, even for a human. No doubt I'll be sunburned to a flakey crisp after today. I risk moving a hand up to my bare shoulders, the strap of my tunic feeling like it has taken a dip in a hot spring under my fingertips. I rub my sore shoulders as I step into the chapel, the sudden shift from the blinding sunlight to the dim interior of the stone building hurting my eyes briefly as my pupils adjust. When my vision returns, I see Del's scaled back in front of me. Now that I look, I see that the spines that run along his head continue down his back, only to disappear again under his trousers until they show themselves again across the top of his tail. I never noticed that before. I look up in time to see him turn to face me, his ember eyes carry a hint of concern.
"You look like hell, Erin. You sure you're okay?" I'm still getting used to an Argonian speaking to me with almost no accent. The extra rasp in Del's voice is the only hint that its source is not Imperial, until you look his direction, of course. I suppose a trained Imperial Battlemage would have some skill with language.
I do my best to put on a strong face, but I do feel like hell. The cool air inside the chapel has just made me feel slimy inside of my soaked tunic. "I'm fine, don't worry about me. I think I'm going to go down to the washroom and see if I can get this grime off."
The Argonian gives another fanged smirk, his tongue slipping briefly out of his maw and flickering into the air, "You do kind of smell like a wet dog. Go wash up, and take a nap or something. Your face is sort of pink; you might be getting a fever. Best to rest. I'll come wake you in the evening when it's cooler and you can help us with the rubble near the west wall."
I'm in no mood to argue, so I nod and make my way toward the lower level of the chapel, where the remaining priests were kind enough to set me and Del up with rooms alongside theirs. I feel guilty taking valuable interior space, when most of the townsfolk have spent their nights outdoors since the attack. But right now, I can't wait to get down to the well to wash up.
Before the attack, the lower portion of the chapel was used primarily for housing the few priests and priestesses of Akatosh who lived here in the city. Rumor has it that one of the priests escaped the city the night it was sacked, alongside the enigmatic mythical figure of the "Hero of Kvatch." I'm not sure if I believe the tales. Most of the bards would have you believe that this one man, sometimes a woman, came to the city and single-handedly slew the invading forces of Oblivion and rescued several members of the city garrison from within the Gate, only to vanish into the night with this mystery priest in tow, to destinations unknown.
Now, this lower level serves as an impromptu hospital and meeting place to organize the cleanup efforts. Del and I were given a pair of rooms that were once used for storage of religious tomes, but have since been converted to bedrooms, usually reserved for use by the sick or the weary, but at the moment most of the town is in good health, those that survived the attack at least. My mind occupies itself with thoughts of the well in an adjoining room, its damp depths promising refreshment from the day's heat.
This time of day, I am the only person down here. Most of the workers spend their days outdoors and use one of the three above-ground city wells for their water. Those not working on the cleanup efforts keep themselves busy upstairs, repairing clothing and looking after the children. In the case of the young children they spend their days running and playing their happy games, as though there wasn't a care in the world, and their city hadn't just been destroyed. One of life's miracles; even in the midst of chaos and destruction unlike anything our era has ever seen, children can still remain children.
Once confirming my solitude, I take the opportunity to strip out of my tunic and work pants. My already bare shoulders and lower legs have more or less dried off by now, but the parts of my body slipping out into the cool air as I remove my garments remain soaked with clammy sweat. I begin lowering the bucket into the well, anxious to feel the cold water over my body. A moment later I feel resistance on the rope, and begin reversing the crank to pull up the refreshing elixir. Bucket in hand, I make my way to the center of the room. I situate myself over a drainage channel cut into the floor, to allow the waste water to flow back into the depths of the earth.
I raise the bucket over my head and slowly let the cool water flow over me. My eyes close as the water hits my face, and I exult in the feeling as the liquid flows over me, washing away the toils of the day.
I stand there dripping for several minutes, just enjoying the caress of the cool air of the chapel against my wet skin. My face still feels flushed, and I am starting to feel a tad dizzy, so I gather up my soaked garments and open the door adjoining to the room set aside for me. Inside, my armor and equipment lie in a corner, and adjacent to it rests my bedroll. I look down at the garments in my hand, and decide against getting dressed again before bed. I'm still feeling a little warm, despite the cool air and water.
I slide between the fabric of my bedroll and before I even realize it, my mind begins shutting down and I drift into a fitful sleep.
Night drapes over the city like a veil. The black void of Oblivion, deeper than any mortal can comprehend, hangs overhead. The only reassurance of the eventual dawn are the tiny pin-pricks of light that shine through from Aetherius. The moons, Masser and Secundus, loom overhead, their ghostly light casting unnerving shadows throughout the city. As I look up at the moons, something pulls at the back of my mind, something dark and powerful, but it's like a half remembered dream, fleeting and not entirely tangible.
The city sleeps, quiet as a graveyard. How did I end up out here? It must be past midnight. Dread suddenly grips me. Something is terribly wrong. I look toward the chapel of Akatosh in the center of the city. The horrible feeling inside my gut begins to form into a slimy knot at the pit of my stomach. Something is deeply, horribly wrong. Before I can even react, my feet are carrying me toward the chapel. The light from the moons makes the angles and arches of the building, normally a calm and refreshing sight in the daylight, appear foreboding and does nothing to help remove the dread building within me.
Only as I approach the stairs leading up to the great doors of the chapel do I notice a tangible difference in its appearance. The huge doors sway idly in the breeze, left open, or thrown open by some great force. I don't want to go inside. Why are my feet carrying me inside? I don't want to know - I want to leave! My body ignores the protests of my mind; my feet have already decided to have none of it. As I step inside the chapel I gasp, overwhelmed with memory. Children playing, their laughter echoing off the stone walls. A normally pleasant memory quickly twists into something horrible. The laughter begins to curl into something else--screams, loud and desperate; sobs, pitiful and forlorn.
The scene shifts again, and I'm now standing at the altar of the chapel. A young boy kneels at the stairs in front of the altar, head bowed as if in prayer. However, nothing about this makes sense. He isn't praying, he is the one sobbing and crying out. My heart lurches halfway into my throat as I see another form lying in front of him. A lifeless body, which I can only assume belongs to the boy's mother. The poor woman has had her face and chest horribly disfigured, as if by a great beast had attacked her and rended her flesh from her bones. The boy continues sobbing desperately. Pity fills my very being, accompanied by something else. Is this guilt? Why would I feel guilty? I would never kill an innocent woman like this!
I reach out to comfort the boy, and offer my assistance, but my hand is not my own. It isn't even something that one could call a hand anymore! Grey fur covers my arm. My fingers have at their tips sharp and deadly looking claws. The claws drip with blood! What in the name of Akatosh have I done? What have I become? I retract my deadly paw, and risk a glance down at the rest of my body. White fur runs the over my breasts and belly and down between my legs. Mottled grey fur appears to adorn the rest of my body. I do not allow my eyes to linger. A scream fills the halls. My ears perk forward. Wait, why can my ears perk? I reach up and feel two pointed and soft ears at the top of my head. My paw moves over my muzzle -- I have a muzzle? I feel sharp fangs there, and nearly cut my paw on them as I investigate. I can smell the blood now, sharp and bitter in my nostrils.
I look again at the boy; he has turned and seen me; his eyes wide and terrified. He screams again. I feel the muscles in my legs clench. Something within me tells me to spring at this screaming child, to silence him. I feel the tension in my legs begin to release, preparing to spring and tear this boy apart.
"NO!"
I jolt out from under the covers of the bedroll, the horrible imagery replaced with the cool confines of my room within the chapel. I reach a hand up to my face and with relief feel no muzzle or razor sharp teeth, just the familiar contours of the face I grew up with. The dream already fading from my memory, I sink my head into my hands and let forth all the emotions the nightmare stirred within me in a wave of tears and sobs.
I hear clicks on the stone floor and the door slowly creaking open. I steady myself and do my best to dry my face on my bare arms. A raspy voice whispers, "Erin! Are you okay? I heard a scream..." Del stops mid sentence as he sees my situation, not to mention my state of undress, of which I suddenly become aware of as the draft from the door opening flows over my body, bringing with it a slight chill and the scent of stale books. I try to respond, but any words that might have formed come out as a breathless, heaving sob. So much for steadying myself.
A warm set of scales and claws settle on my bare shoulder. "Well, at least you're okay. Whatever it was, it's gone now, Erin. You're safe. You're with me, and I'd never hurt you." The reptilian whispers calm me somewhat. I forget again about lying in the nude, and turn and embrace him. I feel his chest scales, warm and soft, press against me, followed by his arms wrapping around my body. I sigh, the horrible nightmare fading away.
"It was just a nightmare, you'll be alright." Del continues his attempts to comfort me. I can't say that they aren't succeeding somewhat, his warmth against me quickly replacing my dread with a feeling of safety. If only he knew the truth. These dreams aren't just dreams, but scattered memories. This is my secret, and my curse. And as much as I enjoy the company of this Argonian, I can't ever let him get close. I brush Del's arms away, and slip out of his comforting embrace.
My voice still shakes, "Thanks, Del. Sorry to have woken you up." I feel a tad foolish, and very naked suddenly. I slip the bedroll around me. Del's eyes widen slightly. I think he honestly just realized he just got done hugging a very naked woman.
"Umm, it's no issue. Sorry about well, you know, embracing you while you were undressed. I know you humans aren't really that comfortable being exposed like that. I didn't even think, when I heard you screaming and saw you lying there, sobbing, I just responded." Del's glowing eyes dart around the room, trying to focus on anything to save his dignity. His voice falters with the first tones of uncertainty I've heard since we met. He's really adorable right now, I'd love to slip back into his arms and kiss him, but I know I can't allow myself the luxury.
"It's my own fault really. I guess I had a slight fever like you thought and it went straight to my head. We'll forget this ever happened. Go back to sleep." I heard myself saying the words, but my heart wishes for less words, and more of the intimacy we just shared. I know though, that getting close to him would only end up hurting him. If he knew I am one of Hircine's cursed beasts of the hunt, he would, at best, leave me and never want to see me again. At worst, he would try to kill me, to rid the world of the monstrosity I become during every cycle. That particular thought brings a shiver to my being. I know that if Del attacked me, my instincts would not allow me to capitulate and allow someone to kill me, even if it would prevent me from causing any future suffering. Most likely, my instincts would force me to kill him instead, and the very idea of hurting my friend sends blood rushing to my face and a fresh set of tears to my eyes.
At the door now, Del turns again and I see only the gleam of his eyes as he rasps, "Sleep well, okay? If you're still feeling sick in the morning, we will see a healer. Good night." The door closes, and I'm bathed again in the damp darkness of the chapel at night.
The suddenness with which I woke up the previous night was jarring for me. Waking for me normally takes on a more gradual process, during which my mind slowly decides to crawl out of the comforting darkness it has shrouded itself in the previous night. It took years of training to learn to keep my ears open while I sleep in order to remain alert while traveling alone - or even while traveling with someone else.
I open my eyes and glance around the room. My parched throat demands attention. I put a hand to my forehead and still feel a little warm, but not the raging inferno I felt there the night before. I'm well enough to travel. Deep inside the stone walls of the chapel I am unsure whether I have awoken again during the night or if I have overslept well into the morning.
I sit up slowly and reach into my pack for some clean garments, careful not to disturb the armor resting against it. I realize as I look through my pack that I don't have much taste in clothing, at least not for a woman. Far more practical this way if you ask me. I don't need any of the fancy silks and colors that you see weaving through the streets of the Imperial City. It's not like I'm some form of bird trying to attract a mate, after all.
Come to think of it, I've never been one for companionship, until recently. I mean, I have a handful of acquaintances back in Skyrim, and I share a few drinks with some of the other members of the Chorrol Fighters Guild when I get the chance. But can I really call them friends? I wouldn't say so. Other people just tend to slow me down. That, and ever since that damned wolf creature bit me a few months ago, I have my own horrible secret to keep.
I'm done putting on my slacks now, and start to drag the moderately itchy shirt over my head and down to cover my chest. Oddly enough, that Argonian has the distinction of being the only person who has ever held me without some form of garment. I'm surprised that the thought of our embrace last night brings a far more comfortable flush to my face than the one brought on by my fever yesterday. [i]What's wrong with you, Erin? You've never been one to care about such things. You don't need another person, let alone this glowy-eyed Argonian to sate your desires. You've always done just fine on your own...[/i]
I consider going into the next room and seeing if Del is awake, but the growling in my stomach tells me that I've slept far later than I probably should have, and it might be a good idea to get suited up and ready to leave. Del is probably waiting. I reach down and start the process of fitting myself into my armor. I start with the greaves, sliding on the leather pads first and then working on the clasps that hold the steel plates on that protect my legs.
Thinking about it, I'm almost too comfortable with this Argonian. I've never kept a traveling companion for longer than necessary. Del and I, however, have spent close to two months together now. I've always managed to slip away just before the full moons. Once my night of hell ended and I returned to Del, I've always found him waiting. Granted, I think he feels he owes me.
The greaves are on, time to see if I can get the cuirass on by myself. This is always the hardest part, and lately I've even let Del help me with the straps on the back.
When Del and I met, I found him along the roadside, broken and defeated, barely able to stand. I defaulted on the contract I had for the Fighters Guild to help this strange Argonian with the crimson eyes. At the time I justified it to myself as an opportunity to have someone owe me a favor. I misjudged him, however. Even though Del's armor and clothing were burnt and charred, and his scales were caked in mud and a spattering of blood, he kept his muzzle pointed as high as he could keep it, and looked me straight in the eyes when I found him. He carried himself like a noble, or at least someone with a lot of money and pride. I figured, if I helped this rich Argonian out of whatever predicament he had gotten himself into, the money I'd earn would probably offset whatever I'd lose from ignoring the bear problem that I was suppose to take care of for a nearby farmer.
The straps on the back keep sticking. Go figure.
Del of course, was poorer than he looked, owning nothing but the fancy clothes on his back and the small ebony dagger he carries. The dagger alone could fetch a fortune, but he treats it like a family heirloom, so I didn't dare ask for it as payment. I can respect the wish to keep one's family close. My own claymore has been handed down through the Terkan family for three generations now. My father would have preferred a son to inherit his prized sword, but seeing as how my parents were stuck with me as an only child, he left it to me. It's not that my father and I didn't get along. Far from it. I was more a man than half the men in our village, but that's a story for another time.
I finally manage to convince this particular part of my wardrobe to cooperate, and manage to get the straps on the back of the front plating secured.
When I first brought Del into Skingrad, the nearest temple from where I found him wandering the road, I was met with some interesting stares from some of the townsfolk. Argonians aren't really all that common this far west. The odd sight of a Nord woman helping an injured Argonian to the temple no doubt contributed to the stares and whispers that passed us by that day.
Argonians have had a troubled history. For years, the Dark Elves who inhabit the province of Morrowind sent raiding parties into the Black Marsh to capture Argonians and take them into slavery. Being reptilian in nature doesn't help their reputation either. Some people see them as nothing more than beasts of burden, no smarter than a horse. In the Empire, most people have a more enlightened view, but unless you travel to the southern part of Cyrodiil, into the lands that border Black Marsh, the number of Argonians that one sees remain quite few, limited mostly to the Mages Guild, where they seem to thrive.
I don't feel that Argonians, Khajiit, Elves, or even Orcs are all that different from each other, other than in physical appearance. I was raised to only judge living creatures based on their individual talents, strengths, and weaknesses. Not to judge based on appearances. Appearances, after all, can deceive - a lesson I learned very quickly when I cornered my first deer while hunting. The beast was injured and weak, and I assumed I could easily approach it in order to deliver the killing blow and return to the village victorious. Of course, I paid for my arrogance, and still have a scar along my left cheek and down to my chin where the young buck managed to gore me with its antlers in a final desperate attempt to save its life.
I shake my head a bit. [i]That dream really rattled you, Erin. Time to get it together and focus on what's in front of you.[/i] I quickly finish suiting up, and have my gauntlets on and my claymore strapped to my back in a matter of minutes, with no more time devoted to introspection.
Knocking first, I make a quick stop at Del's room. No whisper or shout answers me, so I enter. The room is empty and clear of any of Del's possessions. I worry briefly that he had left in the night after seeing me make a fool of myself. Thankfully, I see him as soon as I emerge from the basement of the chapel, arguing with one of the priests, his tail whipping behind him in slight irritation. Dressed in his armor as well, dark leather that protects his most critical locations, chest, forearms, and legs, Del looks quite formidable. He wears a blue tunic underneath, which gives him a very regal appearance with the offset of the color against the near black of his leathers. All suited up, Del certainly looks the part of a trained Imperial Battlemage, even if he was cast out. They hear me approach before I can hear what they're talking about, and both Del and the Altmer priest turn to focus on me as I approach them.
Del speaks first, "Erin, this priest is refusing to accept septims for allowing us to rest here."
"You don't need to pay me. I told you as much when I agreed to let you board here. You two have done more than enough for our city, and the space wasn't being used anyways. Keep your money, and do not insult my generosity by offering it again." The Altmer manages to make himself sound truly offended, and waves his arms dramatically as he speaks. In my experience, High Elves like him always seem to have a flair for the dramatic.
I put my hand on Del's shoulder as he turns to respond to the priest, probably to insist again like a fool that he take our money. "Del, leave it be. I promise we'll put the money to good use either way. The people here are already grateful for your help, as am I." I add the last part almost hesitantly, thinking back to how Del comforted me last night. He turns and looks right into my eyes as well, the molten depths of his eyes showing me that he knows exactly what I'm talking about. Del's tail ceases its movements and settles to the ground behind him, lightly brushing against my ankle on its way.
I turn to the priest and offer my gloved hand, "Thank you for your hospitality, and may good fortune smile upon you and the citizens of this city." The Altmer bows politely, but doesn't take my hand. I withdraw it as subtly as I can. He then turns and begins making his way toward a young Breton couple that have entered the chapel.
As we depart the chapel and make our way to the city gates I turn to Del with a grin on my face and in my voice. "So, Del, since you're so eager to spend your hard earned gold, maybe when we get to Anvil you can make a donation to the temple there. I mean, the temple here is dedicated to Akatosh, and didn't seem interested," I make a sweeping gesture toward the chapel behind us and continue, "But the one in Anvil is different, you know. They worship Dibella, and I'm sure the priests and priestesses of the goddess of love would be happy for your donation, they might even be very, very grateful." Del turns to me, his bright crimson eyes widening slightly. I figure more teasing is in order. "What? You've never heard of the legendary hospitality of the Dibellan cults? They may even have a young Argonian priestess who would know exactly how to show gratitude to someone like you."
Del's stunned look continues, and he almost trips himself as he walks, stumbling for a bit before regaining his composure. When he looks back at me, his tail resumes its old tricks, lashing against the cobblestones beneath our feet -- the only visual sign that I've succeeded. He returns my grin, sharp and full of teeth. "You could always come with me, Erin. Remember, Dibella teaches that all races and people should not deny themselves any of the pleasures that come with our mortal bodies. I'm pretty comfortable in that realm myself, but you seem to enjoy working yourself to the point of exhaustion. I wonder if this," he puts the small pouch of gold coins into my hand, "wouldn't be more useful to you, than to myself."
I feel myself blush and I turn away. I didn't expect that response, and am not quite sure how to turn it back to him. He's right about me, though, and it infuriates me that this Argonian that I've only known for two months can know me that well. Del lets out a laugh, a rather odd sound, full of air and hisses. First time I've heard him laugh quite so heartily. Seems I've become the victim of my own joke. Damn that Argonian.
Del and I travel toward Anvil for the better part of a day, before storm clouds put an abrupt stop to our journey. Our objectives switch from keeping our pace and keeping each other entertained with light banter to finding shelter from the imminent rain and wind. Just as the wind threatens to tear my hair loose from its binds, Del shouts to me that he has found a cavern a little ways off the main road.
The mouth of the cave faces away from the road and toward the north, it should block most of the rainfall if the winds continue to come from the east. We don't dare delve deeper for better shelter, as we both know that these caves can run miles deep into the ground, and can contain all sorts of nasty surprises.
Del moves a few feet into the cave as I go about setting up my bedroll at the entrance, and keep watch for anyone, or anything, that might take offense to us settling down in the mouth of their lair, or anyone that might decide two travelers hiding from a storm might make good targets for robbery or other evil deeds. The rain however, makes that unlikely, as it comes crashing down in great sheets with no warning, blinding my vision beyond more than a few feet.
I turn toward Del as I hear a low chant, small strands of pink energy weave between his claws and travel up his arms to his closed eyes. The energy dissipates and he opens his eyes again, the pupils now glowing with that same pink energy. I shake my head and turn back to watch for trouble. I have no idea what he's doing, but whatever spells he's casting he can do it without me. I'd much rather trust my own eyes and the sword on my back than any mystical energies that even mages barely understand.
I hear Del move further into the cave. I hope he doesn't go too deep. I know he wouldn't be stupid enough to leave earshot, but nonetheless, the thought of a bear or other creature returning wet and angry to its lair while I'm alone at the entrance to the cave makes me nervous. I grip the handle of my claymore and tense at the thought. More chanting. I don't look back this time.
A great clap of thunder snaps me out of my thoughts and illuminates the terrain through the torrent of rain. Nothing in sight. If a creature nearby got caught in this storm, it has most likely found other shelter by now. It seems as though this entrance to the caverns below us hasn't been used in some time; no bones, refuse, or tracks are visible. I relax a bit and settle down on a rather large boulder just inside the entrance, and allow my eyes to adjust to the dim grey light that filters in through the rain pouring outside.
I see his eyes first, small slits of pink moving up through the black, only to be surrounded and captured in crimson, like a bug caught inside amber. Seeing Del's eyes with this extra glow disturbs me somewhat, and I try not to focus on it, but keep feeling my own eyes drawing back to his. I wonder what sort of spell has given him that color. I wonder if it hurts?
Del's voice draws my attention, "I've set a spell to warn us if anything tries to approach. The wards are set a ways into the cave, and I didn't see any splits in the passage, so it looks like if anything wants to come from that direction, they'll have to pass through the ward. I'll be alerted if anything living or magickal comes that way."
"What about your eyes? Is that part of this spell?" I hear myself asking. Funny, I thought I didn't care about magick...
"No, this is due to the detection spell I cast." His hand waves across his eyes as if to draw attention to them, as if them being bright pink and red didn't already draw my attention, "I can see the lifeforce of anything within a few hundred yards now. It's not flawless, as it only works in the direction I am looking, but it should give us plenty of warning if I watch the entrance."
[i]So he wants to take first watch. I should be the one to do that, I'm the one who slept for gods know how long yesterday.[/i] "I appreciate the thought, Del, but shouldn't I take first watch? I have only been up for maybe half of the day, and you've been awake since before the sun rose. I have ears and eyes, I may not have magick, but I can still keep us safe from anything that comes this way."
Concern glimmers across his enchanted features, "Don't worry about it, Erin. You should sleep some more anyways. You could still be sick." His expression changes to one of amusement, a hint of a smile pulling at his muzzle, "Besides, I was planning on enjoying the rain. Storms remind me of the Marsh. Get some rest, I will be fine."
Giving no opportunity to argue, he turns and begins removing his tunic. He plans to go out in this downpour? Crazy lizard. Fine, let him do as he pleases. I realize now that he's not only removed his garments on his upper body, but is now working his trousers down past his tail. I look away. I've heard that Argonians have no qualms about being nude, but I didn't expect this one to be stripping in front of me either. A less polite part of me compels me to snag a few glances, though, and I retreat to my bedroll with images of red scales around a tight rear filling my mind.
Once back at my bedroll a little further into the cave, I decide to remove my heavier pieces of armor, they're uncomfortable as hell to sleep in, and, as awake as I am, I need all the relaxing I can get if I'm going to get any rest in. The sounds of the rain crashing against the rocks above me dampen the sounds of my steel clattering to the ground as it is removed, far quicker than it was put on.
Clad in my tunic and trousers, I settle into my bedroll, my eyes turning back toward the cave entrance. I was planning to close them and listen to the rain outside, but I can still see Del from here. He's standing right out in the middle of the storm, arms at his sides, muzzle tilted skyward, a look of joy spread across it. The rain whips at his scaled body, running in little tracks down his scales. I find myself somewhat mystified at the way it moves down his body, so unlike the way water just seems to cling to my own. Part of his aquatic heritage I suppose.
I find myself staring at his more private areas without even realizing it at first. I've caught glimpses of him as he's undressed to bathe before, but never intentionally looked. He looks back toward me and I close my eyes, but I realize as deep as I am into the cave, and down a slight incline from where he stands, he can't actually see me, besides my 'aura' or whatever his magickal pink eyes are showing him. He was probably just making sure nothing was sneaking up on me. I open my eyes again.
Argonians are interesting, anatomically. I don't have much frame of reference for comparison, besides brief glances I've had of other traveling companions as they were undressed, and one embarrassing moment during my teens where a boy in my village thought it'd be a fun game to drop his trousers in front of me. I punched him for his arrogance, but got a good look that day at how human males are built down there. Del, he's all scales and smooth lines. I know he isn't a female, and from what I've read, his more important bits are kept inside his body and only show themselves when they are needed.
This particular line of thought has me feeling quite warm under the bedroll. My mind drifts back to what Del said earlier about everyone deserving a little pleasure in their life. It has been awhile. I know as well as anyone that certain parts of my body can feel quite nice indeed when properly stimulated, but I don't spend a lot of time thinking about such things. Strange though, looking at Del standing there in the rain, absolutely thrilled with the feelings he's getting from the storm by the looks on his muzzle, makes me yearn to join him.
I settle for a little enjoyment of my own. I slowly slip a hand inside my trousers and feel the heat and wetness that has built between my legs. A pulse of pleasure slips up my body, causing my belly muscles to clench, and my legs to spread a bit. Damn, I am sensitive today. I look up and see that Del has moved a little farther off from where he was standing. I can only just make him out now, but I don't dare lift my head up in case he sees me.
What he does next shocks me. Del settles onto a rock and begins massaging the area between his own legs. [i]Is he doing the same thing I am?[/i] My heart skips a beat at the thought, and I feel adrenaline course into my veins, my hands begin to shake. I've never seen someone else do this before! [i]Doesn't he know I can see him?[/i] His eyes are closed now, and I briefly consider getting up and scolding him for letting his guard down, but I don't want the show to end.
His ministrations have had an effect, the pink tip of his penis has begun to show itself between his legs. I see now that there is a bulge where it normally remains hidden within his body, and another one slightly lower where his testicles most likely reside. He begins slowly moving the tips of his fingers, avoiding contact with his claws, over the tip, eyes still closed, legs spreading a bit wider at the stimulation.
My own hands keep themselves quite busy as well. I froze for a bit when he started, but now I'm continuing in earnest. My left hand reaches under my tunic and I rub across my breasts. Each time one of my fingertips brushes one of my nipples, I feel my belly tense up. My other hand rubs along the outside of my vagina, caressing the outer lips and making my body rise in temperature from a whole different type of fever.
Del wastes no time, either. I am pleased to see he doesn't want to spend hours outside with his eyes closed, and is trying to move things along. At least he knows he's putting himself in a pretty vulnerable position. His erect member has slipped fully from its protective slit, and his hand moves over it in long, fast strokes. A bolt of lightning illuminates the grey sky behind him, the thunderclap that follows drowning out the sounds of the rain and my own gasping breath for a brief instant.
I slip a pair of fingers inside my passage. I can't tell from here, but two or three fingers would probably be about the same width as Del's penis. I wonder how that would feel. Would he be warm? Would it hurt? I've heard that sex can hurt a woman sometimes, but I've never felt any pain when I have experimented with my own. I let out a gasp as the back of my palm grazes over my clit, sending a tremor through my entire body. I feel the walls of my vagina grip at my fingers, and then release as my muscles relax again. I repeat the motion. It feels heavenly. I bet it would feel pretty good for Del too, if it was his penis wrapped up inside my folds instead of my fingers. That thought sends warmth spreading from my chest into the rest of my body, and I realize consciously for the first time that I'm fantasizing about my friend.
Another roar of thunder, this one more distant. Del seems pretty preoccupied now, his scaled hand moving even faster, and his muzzle is open in what appears to be a gasp of his own. His hind claws suddenly clench and dig little trenches in the dirt, then they release and grasp again. I look back up to the main attraction and can see spurts of his seed fly into the air to land on his chest. His hand never stops moving. His tail thwacks against the rock he is sitting on, and draws its own path in the dirt as it twitches wildly.
I close my eyes and continue my fantasy. I imagine how it would feel to have him inside me as he goes off. I picture his body over mine, his breath washing across my face as we share in intimate joy. Fantasy Del opens his eyes, and looks into mine with ember devotion, and I feel my own release cascade over me. My legs straighten and my thighs practically crush my right hand between them as I feel the pleasure ripple through my body in waves. It starts between my legs as my inner muscles clench rhythmically, and then floats up into my chest and drips down my legs and into my toes, bringing them to a curl. The heat in my chest moves into my head, erasing all concerns of culture and civility, and bringing only contentment.
As I come down from this high and begin to think coherently again, I sigh, releasing the breath that had been trapped in my lungs for the eternity of that moment. I open my eyes again and see Del still sitting outside, now alert and looking out toward the countryside. All traces of his activities washed away by the whipping rain. I am not so lucky, I feel a bit sticky and quite warm. I hope if he comes back inside he won't be able to smell it. But if he does, so be it, he's the one who started this whole mess, after all.
I lay back, and suddenly sleep doesn't seem so far away. I slowly drift off with content knowledge that maybe, just maybe, I can let myself enjoy such pleasures. I might even be able to get close to this Argonian without him finding out my secret. These thoughts calm me and comfort me as I allow myself to fade into unconsciousness.
Well, that's my first sexy fanfic I've ever tried to write! Please, let me know what you think, good or bad, just try to keep it constructive if you find things you don't like. This is the first time I've posted anything like this online, so I'm excited to see what people think.
Also, I have plans to continue this story further, though I figured this one was getting long enough for a first posting. Please let me know if you like the characters and what you think of their situation!
Editing done by: :iconTempo321:, Alvey021, and Cholli
Thanks for reading!
~Artemis