FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

A rooster's cry rang out in the silent morning air, the sun had just begun to poke out of the sky, but for much of Whiterun the walls surrounding the city kept it from rising a few minutes longer. The noise, however, woke many, including a Nord named Fjoel Hard-Heart. Dreams dissipated from his mind and he started to prepare for the day. The cold air made him wish he stayed in bed but there was work ahead of him this morning.

Wiping the sleep from his eyes the young Nord began to dress himself for the day ahead. His wardrobe was full of colorful clothing, made of the finest materials, but given that his father owned a dye company, what he wore was also what they sold. By the time he dressed himself, sunlight started flowing through the windows.

He opened his door to the commons, it wasn't cold enough to start lighting fires yet, Fall had only just arrived, it would be wasting their wood. His sister, Syle, was awake before him as usual, cooking eggs for the family.

"Mornin'" he called out, stretching and yawning.

"Mornin'" she replied back, giving the eggs to her brother.

As Fjoel began eating, the master bedroom door opened up, stepping out was the very definition of a hardened, no-nonsense, Nord. His beard grew long and was beginning to grey, though Fjoel liked to joke that all the color went into his clothing. He closed the bedroom door behind him and with heavy booted footsteps, began walking over to the table.

Syle cracked another two eggs into the hot pan, "Morning father."

The man gave a grumble and sat down next to his son at the table. The chair creaked a bit as he settled into the chair. An uneasy silence hung in the air, the only sound was the sizzling of the eggs on the cast-iron pan.

Finally, he spoke up, "Fjoel, I need you to talk to Yarl Balgruuf, see if any in his court need new clothing, other than that, we need new buyers, find some."

The young Nord nodded, "I understand."

No one needed to say why, behind the door lay their mother, unresponsive, kept alive only by the potions they've been buying from a local healer. It wasn't enough though, they needed a cure.

Fjoel finished the last bite and cleaned the leftover yolk with some bread. Syle placed the plate in front of her father and began to crack one last egg into the pan, no doubt for herself. Placing his metal plate into the sink, the young Nord began making a mental list of people who'd need new clothing.

He headed out the door, setting out for a new day, but his father stopped him, "And I don't want to hear you visited the Battered Mare tonight. You understand me?"

His father's tone was serious, Fjoel knew that tone. The Nord replied, "I understand, won't take a single step in, I promise."

Outside, the small city had begun to wake up, he waved hello to a few of the vendors as he made his way to the market district. It was, unwise, to visit the Yarl before lunch, he'd learnt this the hard way as a lad. Instead, he perused the offerings at the stalls as he thought of who would be likely to buy new, expensive clothing. Other than the Yarl, who is always happy to buy their fine dyes and cloth to give as gifts to visiting emissaries or royalty, Fjoel couldn't think of anyone who hadn't already bought some within the past few months. Many of the richer city folk had already purchased clothe when they heard of their mother, but Fjoel didn't want to rely on charity. There was a steady stream of merchants heading off to Solitude or Riften, but many of them already had contracts with his father.

He bought an apple from a older dark-elf and ate it as he thought, mind racing for possibilities. He sat down at the town square, barely listening to the sermon being given by a priest. Given how his enthusiasm never wavered as he prophesized the end of days, only to be met with silence, he clearly didn't care if anyone listened to him.

The Nord finished his apple, and was left stumped. The only people who might have the gold and the need for new fine, dyed, cloth were The Companions, since some of the more dramatic members need to replace their capes after a few months of hard fighting. One could tell how old a Companion's cape was by just how much blood was caked into it.

He sighed, it was too bad he didn't know more people in Whiterun, much of his childhood was going from place to place as his father taught him the family business. Their mother usually took care of things in the city, but with her gone.

He snapped himself out of his thoughts, "no, not gone," he thought, "Just ill and needing rest."

The thought didn't comfort him.

That afternoon, he sat on the bench, staring at the ground, weighing up his options. The audience with the Yarl had gone well at least, a full set of outfits for some visiting Bosmer. The Companions didn't spring for new capes though, which really set him back. He looked up from the ground and to the entrance of The Battered Mare. It would be so easy to slip in and have some drinks, no one would tell father, no one even really liked him if Fjoel was being honest.

Making up his mind, he stood up and walked over, about to head in when he overheard a magical word, "Caravan".

He stopped, two strangers were talking, the Nord tried to listen in.

"Yeah, just this morning they set up, only going to be here a few days."

"Really? Should probably drop by tomorrow, see what they got, they're just outside the city walls right?"

That was all Fjoel needed, thoughts of drinking gone from his mind, he headed over to the main gate, to see who came in. Strange that they were camped outside the city and not staying in town, but no matter, if they were traveling they may also be buying.

The guards gave him a short nod as he headed out of the city, the fall air had a bit of warmth to it, the sun beginning it's decent behind the mountains. Through a break in the city walls he looked out and saw the vast plains, speckles of color as grassland plants dotted the withering grasses, getting ready to expel their seeds. He took a moment to drink in the sight, and then carried on.

Walking down the hill he noticed smoke from a campfire right off the side of the crumbling, ancient walls.

"Good," he thought, "They're close by."

He walked forward just enough to see the tents, and at once he understood why they were not allowed within the city. It was a caravan of Khajiit, their brown robes and hoods hiding their feline bodies. There were maybe four robed figures and about with six tents set up around the campfire. Each robe had a small bit of tail poking out from where the robe failed to meet the ground. Only one of them hand their hood down, a female Khajiit, with golden rings pierced through her ears, she sat next to the fire on a bit of firewood.

He didn't know what to think, many inside the walls were suspicious of these felines, mostly because of their renown reputation of being sneaky thieves. But at the same time, they were master merchants, only the Imperials were better traders, and that mostly came down to their "carrot or stick" approach to commerce.

Well, he needed to sell, if he kept his wits about him he was sure he could walk away with a good deal and his coinpurse still attached. As he walked over, the cat looked up from the fire and gave him a smile.

"Ah, another Nord from the city. Coming to see this one's ware's perhaps?" She spoke in, what was admittedly a warm and gentle tone, along with that Elswyer accent that was utterly unique to those who came from there.

He cleared his throat, "Quite the opposite actually, I represent a company that's renown throughout all of Skryim for its dyes. I was hoping we could make a deal here."

The Khajiit roamed her eyes up and down his outfit, no doubt assessing the quality of his clothes. After a few seconds she stood up.

"Hrmmm, come walk with me, I find it easier to discuss such manners while moving than staying still. To let your body stay still brings weariness to the mind."

For a second Fjeol was worried that the cat would just rob him or lead him into an ambush, but the more he thought about it, the less likely that seemed, for one the townsfolk would run them out of the city, never let them stay again. Secondly, she didn't give that vibe off of her. While she definitely seemed mischievous, she didn't come off as malignant. He gave a short nod and the woman actually purred with satisfaction.

"Goooooooood, this one is called Ra'ara, and what may I call you?" She spoke as she set off down the trail, to the surrounding countryside.

He followed after her, walking side by side with her, "My name's Fjeol Hard-Heart, it's good to meet you."

With that her ear flicked and she responded, "Is it? I may give you a bad deal, or perhaps I could steal your heart or ruin your name, and you'll regret the day you came to see me. One can not know so quickly, hmmmm?"

The Nord paused for a second, unsure how to respond.

The woman chuckled to herself, "There is no need to worry, I am a fair dealer and I'm sure your heart isn't moved quite so easily."

It had barely been a minute and Fjeol was already entirely unsure of how to handle such a person. Who _was_this woman he decided to do business with. He was caught entirely off guard, every other business deal had been a dance of formalities and trying to get the best deal possible, not....whatever this was.

"She's just trying to toy with me I bet," he thought, "Trying to get me off guard so she can get the best price."

"Man of few words? That's alright, I have plenty to share."

"Blast, she's getting to me."

"Oh no," He said, "Just never had business negotiations like this before."

She looked at him and gave him a grin, "Business? Why not talk with me a bit first, get to know who it is that'll be carrying your goods and your reputation?"

"I like to think I can see a person's character quickly, it's an important skill, to be able to read a person quickly."

"Ah I see," she purred out, they reached the first fork in the road. She knelt down and examined some mountain flowers, picking a purple petal and pocketing it, "I think, if you can read a person within a few moments, they must be a simple person to understand hmmmm?"

She stood up and gave him a sideways glance, "What do you think of me, Nord? Am I so easy to read?"

Shoot, she had him there, he had no idea what this cat-woman was like. The Nord took a second, closer look at the cat, she had ash-grey fur and piercing yellow eyes, the fur that grew from her head were tied in dreadlocks, and ran down the back of her head. Her face was, well to be honest quite beautiful, soft, exotic, yet kind. He thought for a second before responding.

"If I didn't get a good feeling from you, I wouldn't have walked all this way with you. Though, I don't think you're so simple, more like a painting that's very nice, but I've yet to notice all the finer brushstrokes."

"I see," she was silent for a few seconds, they stood there. The sun had begun to set, the stars beginning to reveal themselves.

He brought out a torch and the cat held up a paw to stop him, "There is no need, these eyes can peer through the darkness that blankets us. Now, let us talk about what it is you are offering to sell, hmmmm?"

He nodded, grateful to be back to business, "Well, my family has a wide variety of dyes to choose from, some only we sell. Our greens are quite popular but we also have vibrant blues, purples, and rich reds."

He pulled out a few sample cloths from coat and presented it to the cat, "Even in the darkness, I'm sure your eyes can see the quality and beauty of what we have to offer."

She held them staring at them as they walked, holding them up in the air. Taking a good while to look at them. She handed them back to the Nord.

"Hmmm, yes, your family does indeed produce quite a number of things that are pleasing to this one's eyes."

"Thank you," he took the cloth back and replaced them into his coat. The Khajiit gave a small laugh, "I think we could do business Hard-Heart, but shall we stop here for a bit, I hear their drinks are exquisite."

Fjoel noticed they were standing next to the Honningbrew Meadery.

"Sure," and the two walked in.

The man behind the counter gave the young Nord an odd look, no doubt due to his strange company, but as they sat down and drank, he eased up. The two discussed prices, amounts, and far more than just business. They sat and drank for a lot of the night, patreons came and went, but the two stayed and talked with one another.

"Hrmmmm, so young one, what is it you hope to do once we part ways?"

The Nord slammed down the mug onto the counter and gave a hearty laugh, "Young one? You've gotta be the same age as I!"

The cat let out another one of her chuckles, "Yes, but just because this one is young, it does not erase your youth hmmmm?"

"Well that's true," he drank more of the sweet drink, "I'm not sure, perhaps take over where my father left, maybe take the family mace and go adventuring, or perhaps sail around, looking for business ventures else....uh....in other lands."

She had a strange look on her face, but lifted the cup to her own lips, once she set it down, that look was gone, "Perhaps, I have a feeling you would enjoy Elswyr though. Many warm sands and warmer beds."

The young man blushed at this and took another drink, finishing it off, "Perhaps, listen I have had a great night tonight, I need to get home. We can exchange the coin and the dyes tomorrow."

"Sure," She finished off her own drink and slide the bartender a few coins, "Let this one buy some drinks for the road however, enjoy the taste a little while longer."

They stepped out into the cool night air, luna butterflies flying all around. Fjoel took the cork off his mead and took a sip, the drinking had definitely gotten to him a little. He turned to look at his new business partner, her eyes sparkled in the lamplight, he'd never seen such a sight before. Those cat eyes looked at him, and the two looked at each other.

Fjoel was the first to turn away, clearing his throat and taking another drink, "Well, let's walk back together, could be dangerous at night."

The khajiit smiled, "Sure, I'll see the danger and you could fight it for me."

The two laughed as they walked back to Whiterun. They kept talking, or more accurately, Ra'ara kept posing statements that mystified and confused the Nord and he tried his best to respond. Finally, they reached the stables, and the campfire of the caravan was visible. Their bottles empty by now, Fjoel was the first one to speak up for once.

"Well, I suppose here is where we part ways until morning, I'll bring over the cloth before lunch tomorrow, it's been a fun night." He held out his hand to shake hers.

However, the Khjiit didn't grab it, instead, lightly and carefully she wrapped her own two hands around them and stepped closer, "You know, we don't have to split up for the night."

Fjoel's eyes widened and his heart raced.

"I've never been one for hiding intentions, so, you would like to spend the night with me? I promise....a warm bed."

Her eyes were filled with want, and the Nord swallowed, nervous. It's not like he was completely inexperienced but...this was something else. He felt stirring in his loins as a image flashed into his mind, his hand running over his fur as they....

"Ra'ara, I'd....love to spend the night with you."

The cat purred, and stepped closer to him, he could smell her now, it wasn't unpleasant in the slightest, she had taken pains to put scented oils in her fur. Lavender and juniper filled the air as they leaned in close to one another.

Her lips touched with his, and he pulled her a little closer, wrapping his arm around her back, she gripped his hand even tighter. Her lips, soft, and her fur tickled his chin a bit as they tasted one another. He gently ended it, pulling away a little, opening his eyes and for the first time, drinking in the beauty of the woman in front of him.

"Hmmm, follow me," the khajiit said, walking backwards and pulling on his hand. She lead him to her tent, dancing around the fire. By this time, all of the others were no doubt in their own tents. Fjoel was led through the tent flaps, and once inside, the cat fell down, pulling him with. The both landed on her makeshift bed, the Nord stopping himself from falling on her with his elbows. Ra'ara pulled his head towards hers, grabbing onto the sides of his head, kissing him deeply. He kissed back, using one hand to grab onto her side and rolled around. They laid, side by side, kissing and tasting one another. Her rough tongue dancing with his as his hands wandered over her body, slipping into the robe and caressing he; her clothes standing in the way between him and her fur.

She moved her arms out of her robe, and wrapped them around him, pushing her body close to him. Breasted pushing into his hard, worked body, grown tough from travel. His hands wandered down to her ass, he squeezed them, they were so soft, so supple. His trousers were tight, he wanted nothing but to pin her down but he took his time. She was unlike any other maiden he had lain with before.

She slipped out of her shirt, baring his breasts for him. He positioned himself above her, letting his hands kneed her bosom. Her growls and purrs egged him on, as her own hands wandered to his tenting groin. With swiftness only a feline could posses, she undid the string holding his pants up, and let them fall to his bent knees. His proud cock stood, throbbing, it was a proud 6 inches of cock, and it had already begun to pre. Gripping the base, she looked up to the Nord and lent forward, he was confused for only a second, until her mouth wrapped around his head.

He let out as gasp and a moan, no maiden had done this before. Using the underside of her tongue, Ra'ara licked all around the head, making a small bit of pre shoot down her throat. Fjoel was in heaven, he placed his hand on her head and pushed it deeper into her, which she gladly accepted. The rough part of her tongue stimulated his shaft, as he pushed deeper to the back of her throat. He stayed like this for a second, before he felt the feline bob her head. It was too much! Pleasure was building up fast, he struggled to keep himself from shooting his load into her, but she seemed to not notice, sucking and pushing her face forward into him.

With a gasp he pushed her head away, panting, gasping for air, as his cock twitched and leaked. The cat's eyes showed her lust, and without a word, she laid back down, and simply lifted her knees to her head.

"Do not keep this one waiting any longer," she purred.

Not wasting a second, Fjoel lined himself up, and pushed himself deep into her. He gripped her shoulder and thrusted into her, bottoming out. She growled and gripped onto his back. As he pumped in and out of her, hitting her hard and deep, her own claws raked across his back, perhaps even drawing a little blood. The pain didn't even register to him, as he kept pushing deep into that tight, hot, wet hole. Pleasure racked his body as he felt himself coming close again. The growls of his partner underneath him got louder and she lifted her body to meet his own. Her walls gripped his cock tight, and he couldn't take it anymore, a few hard, quick thrust followed by the cat crying out, her tunnel clenching and wreathing around his shaft pushed him over. He let out a quick gasp and buried himself deep into her as he came, hard. His cock painting her insides white, his breath held as he felt himself pouring his seed into her.

He collapsed next to her, panting and breathing hard, the fatigue of his act catching up to him. He exhaled, and pulled the cat close to him, his softening, wet cock resting on her leg as the Khajiit purred and pulled a blanket over them. Warmth enveloped him as his eyes shuttered close and he fell asleep, the last thing he registered, was the cat, purring, and nuzzling into his chest.