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Scaly and Furry Adventures in Skyrim

Chapter 3

For FyacinTia

By Draconicon

Their fun had, they slept, only to be awoken a few hours before dawn by a no-longer-hospitable sabertooth most displeased to be sharing a cave with them. Darts-Over-Parchment yanked Fy'acin by the neck, pulling the complaining Khajiit behind him as the flustered feline growled back at his feral cousin.

"I swear, he was completely fine with us staying last night. Not an argumentative bone in his body."

"Perhaps your charm is not...not so good as you think it is," Darts said as he hunched forward, the pair of them finally ceasing their retreat at the banks of a river. "He was...very toothsome."

"You get used to that. Hmmph. And I thought we had an understanding. I have half a mind to go back and take a tooth for that treatment. See if he ever has guests again."

"Be my guest...I am not going with you."

Tempting as it was, he knew better than to risk his life. There were other, better things to risk it on, such as the quest that they had in mind. Fy'acin tossed the offense over his shoulder like so much rubbish, squatting down and checking his pack to make sure that he still had all his things.

There were his clothes, of course - fashionable reds and golds that were more suitable for a rich merchant than a wanderer, but needs must - which he set aside to dress in when they had a moment. His daggers, likewise. The idol, of course, which would be perfectly suitable for sale when they found a proper buyer...but why stop there? He smiled as he tucked it back in the bottom of the pack, thankful that he had remembered to pack it and not left it around like some other prizes in the past.

As he stood up, Darts-Over-Parchment had managed to catch his breath and was studying from one of the many books that the robed Argonian carried. He shook his head.

"Must you read at all times? Is my visage so unappealing?"

"It's more appealing when I feel it rather than see it," Darts said without looking up.

"So catty. Return mine tongue, lest I think you one of my kindred," Fy'acin said with a laugh.

"With how lusty you are, I am surprised that would stop you."

"Please. As if I would lower myself to deal with one of them. They'd never be worthy of this...and there are enough out there that would love to string me up for other crimes. Let's not give them more rope to hang me with."

Despite the back and forth, Fy'acin smiled. It was rare that he had someone that he could banter with like that. Most simply gave up after sufficient time in the cat's company and went along in silence, but Darts felt the need to fire back. He encouraged that. It was more interesting that way.

More importantly, it got the dark-scaled Argonian to put the book down. Fy'acin stepped into his pants, pulling them up to his waist before pulling his belt over them. He was still stepping into his shirt when his partner cocked his head to the side.

"So, what was the point of stealing that? Besides merely gaining septims."

"Oh, there's quite a few purposes. It's more down to choice, now. I have a few connections that would be more than willing to buy the bust for a great price -"

"You? Connections?"

"They know I'm good for it."

And they were quite good in bed, too, most of the time. He enjoyed making personal connections with his buyers.

"But they are always more willing to buy if they know that there's something more coming. And something that proves that it wasn't just a lucky filch."

"I knew there was a catch."

"No, no, please. Just listen. I haven't steered you wrong yet."

"...Keep talking."

"Now, imagine this, if you will. Instead of walking into a pawn's den and off-loading this idol, we walk into the same place but with more. Something that shows that we're a power to be reckoned with. Perhaps with more magical items, something stolen from the dragon priests still out there, or looted from the tombs that other adventurers have never dared tap."

"...You're talking about a very long, very roundabout means of gathering money."

"Yes, but effective."

"You've done this before?"

"On a lower scale. But there's a reason that I wanted to partner with you. A reason that I haven't had a chance to bring up yet."

Darts sighed, rubbing his forehead, but Fy'acin was in fine form. He chuckled as he leaned against the other man.

"What would you say if I told you that we could get access to the greatest vault of magical items in the entire province?"

"I'd ask how you planned to get underneath Solitude without the dwarves."

"Not the royal vault, you silly lizard. I'm thinking of something greater, something grander. Haven't you heard of the Midnight Hole?"

That got the Argonian's attention, as he had all but known it would. The Midnight Hole was a legend to most of the inhabitants of Skyrim, and even to the rest of the Empire at large there was little credence given to it, but it was real.

He knew. He'd seen a hint of it in the past, and it had been filled with more treasure than the deepest of dragon barrows. There was more gold, more magic, more ancient things in that place than there would ever be found by any adventurer anywhere else, but it was locked away and guarded by those that had long since sealed it off from this world.

Darts looked him in the eye, and for a moment, Fy'acin wondered if he had taken the tease too far. The lizard was silent, clearly thinking, and the thief knew better than to push his luck. He just smiled, keeping his face as winsome as possible.

"...You're not lying to me."

"Oh, I would never lie about this. Not when I need your help. And you know how galling it is for me to admit that, so please don't make me say that again."

"I feel almost as worried hearing that as you feel sickened to say it."

"You cannot feel anywhere near this intensity." Fy'acin gagged. "Now, moving rapidly on."

"Yes."

"The Midnight Hole is real, and I know how to get there. The downside is, to get there, we both have to be very rich, and we need to get the attention of some very unpleasant individuals. I would do this myself, but -"

"But you've been trying that, and there's some magic that you need to get through. Or something along those lines."

"Something like that. And having the funds to get the operation off the ground to begin with." He hefted the sack with the idol. "However, this will fetch a pretty penny, and that will give us the seed money for all the other equipment that we need."

"I assume that you already have a buyer in mind?"

"Yes, yes, I do."

"And...where are they?"

"...Ahem. That's the, ah, slightly tricky part. I don't suppose that you can teleport us?"

"I can't teleport us."

"Hmmph. A most egregious annoyance. Ah, well. We shall have to suffer one another's company on the way to Whiterun, then. My buyer is there, and he is a most...annoying individual. I have yet to understand why I don't cut his throat every time that I leave town and he still draws breath."

"...I have a horrible feeling that I know exactly who you mean."

Fy'acin shook his head, shouldering his bag. It was going to be a long walk all the way to Whiterun, and considering that the priestess had likely spilled the beans of who had stolen the idol by now, that meant that there was no point in hiring a wagon until they were much further from Riften. A pity, too; he would have preferred riding to walking.

That said, at least he had someone to talk to.

"Shall we?"

"After you," Darts said.

"Me? I'm a fragile thief. You should take the lead."

"Wizard."

"Thief."

"Wizard."

"Thief. And cat. Squishy."

"..."

"Ha! After you, good wizard lizard."

"I hate you."

"The number of times I've heard that..."

They were halfway to Ivarstead when they had to stop for the night. Fy'acin would have liked to have kept pushing on through the night, but after being reminded that Darts-Over-Parchment didn't have night vision and the Argonian was starting to get tired, he acquiesced to the idea of stopping for a while. He would have liked to push onward, but better not to deal with someone that had so much magic so close by when it wasn't wielded with suitable focus. Best not to deal with the singed tail incident again.

As they settled around a makeshift campfire, Darts looked over the flames at him. The Argonian was still as mysterious as ever, and Fy'acin was determined to pick through his mystery. He had a perfect place to start, as well.

"So, you mentioned that you might not be a 'proper' Argonian that first night."

"You are going to be a thorn in my side for this entire trip, aren't you?"

"Only if that's the most suitable interrogation tool. I could be something else."

"I could be a pain in your ass, too."

"Mmm, you were large enough in my mouth that you might be a pain, but not for long."

"You are insatiable."

"It works." Fy'acin smirked. "So, what's this about not being a 'proper' Argonian, Darts?"

"You're not letting this go, are you?"

"You're my partner. If you won't open up, I'll open you up. Speaking of which, I'm very good with my tongue in other ways -"

"No."

"Then maybe you can illuminate me as to the reason for calling yourself such? You are certainly proper enough in my eyes."

"Ugh..."

He loved teasing, but he was getting a better feel of when to pull back. There was something about Darts that liked to keep things at arms-length, and he was starting to figure that it was more than just the idea that he couldn't trust others to get things done. There was something else there, something that had been burned quite badly in the Argonian's past. He could all but taste the drama.

It was going to take some time to drag it out, he knew, but that was part of the fun. He liked to take his time, to nudge and tease and pull it out when he could, chasing it down like a cat after its prey. That was what he did best, after all.

"Come on, at least give us a hint," Fy'acin asked.

"...Let's say that there was more involved in my visit to Skyrim than just chasing treasure."

"An escape attempt, perhaps?"

"I'll say that you're not entirely wrong."

"Oooh, from the Thalmor? Or the Dunmer?"

"I'll also say that you aren't entirely right, either."

"Oooooh, you tease."

"I'm good at that."

"Mmmph. Not fair. I'm supposed to be the tease, not you."

Darts smiled, leaning back. So, someone that wasn't entirely proper, but not necessarily a slave to the elves. Not quite an escape attempt, but not exactly not, either. That meant something akin to -

"Ah! Redemption!"

"...How - okay, I gave that one way...idiot..."

"I was right! Ha!" Fy'acin smiled, preening as he stroked through his whiskers. "I knew I could figure it out."

"That's all you're getting."

"Oh, I can puzzle much more out from that. All that magical skill, all that training. You were doing something with it, something that wasn't accepted. And if you're here for redemption, then you're not just looking for treasure for yourself. Buying someone off, perhaps? Or maybe -"

"Silence."

Fy'acin yelped as his mouth locked shut, not only not moving but not letting any sound out at all. He gripped his jaws, trying to pull them apart, but they refused to move. Even as the seconds ticked by, usually all that was needed for a spell of magical silence to fade, his jaws refused to part. Darts shook his head, casually sitting down and popping open a book.

"You can wait that out for as long as you want; this one lasts for a good two hours."

"..."

"And before you ask, no, I will not need your mouth tonight."

Having known enough mages to know a dismissal when he heard one, Fy'acin rolled over and rolled his eyes. He covered his back with his cloak and closed his eyes. The temptation to take off his boots and tease the Argonian was there, but he doubted that it would be enough without a few honeyed words to chase it down. And besides, what was sex without banter?

Well, unless he was sucking dick, but even that had the chance to be something more when he pulled off to commentate. Then again, that might be why his partners always wanted to throat-fuck him. Made it harder for him to judge them as they went.

Smiling slightly at the memories of a few particularly uptight Dunmer throwing a fit when their easy pussy decided that he had a voice, he sighed. He should probably sleep, when it came right down to it. They did have a journey to continue in the morning, and Ivarstead was still some way off.

But at the same time...

He said that this would last for a few hours. I could sleep through that...or I could PRETEND to sleep through it, and see if he does anything interesting.

For Fy'acin was a cat that loved mysteries, and Darts-Over-Parchment had done nothing to convince him that he wasn't carrying the biggest mystery that the Khajiit had ever had the fortune of finding. Considering the sheer power that he carried, the redemption arc that he seemed to be pursuing, and everything else, it was in his best interests to find out what the particulars were. Long experience had taught him that those that believed themselves alone and unwatched were most honest, and that meant feigning sleep was his best option.

He smiled, closing his eyes and curling one hidden hand until his claws pressed against his palm. As he breathed in, he relaxed, and as he breathed out, he gently jabbed his hand with his claw. It was just enough pain without breaking the skin to keep him awake despite his own tiredness, and just mild enough to keep from disrupting his breathing patterns.

In, out, in, out, in, out, each breath getting slower and slower until it was completely natural. He barely thought about it, just allowing it to do what it wanted. Every so often, he kept jabbing his palm with a claw, keeping him floating right on the edge of sleep. The world faded away, and only the sound of the pages turning and the quill scratching on parchment mattered.

And then, those sounds stopped.

For a moment, he thought he'd been made. But no, there was no sign of that. Instead, there was a different sound, something wet, something...squelching. It sounded nasty, but a good kind of nasty, like something sensual slowed down.

As naturally as he could, he rolled, as if he was just shifting his position in his sleep. His eyes were closed, so he saw nothing but he caught a whiff of something sharper, and certainly more intimate. The Argonian had clearly stripped or, perhaps, been stripped; that smell would have only come from his crotch, which meant either he was taking time to pleasure himself - something that Fy'acin severely doubted, considering his attitude towards that thus far - or something else was happening.

The soft, most-definitely self-stifled grunts coming from the Argonian contributed to that theory, and he kept his eyes closed for a bit longer, letting the motion seem all the more the movement of someone that was still asleep. The sounds, the squelching ones, at least, were getting louder. He waited, heard another grunt, then judged it safe enough to open one eye just a sliver.

It took a moment for the night to shift back into focus, but when it did, he saw something he hadn't expected. The black-scaled lizard had been completely entrapped within a series of tendrils, black and dripping with some sort of green ooze. The lizard himself was still and stiff, his cock hanging out over a portal that led to somewhere else.

And he did not look pleased.

"I will pay it off soon," Darts-Over-Parchment whispered.

Pay it off?

Now, that was something. Something interesting indeed, considering all the possibilities that lay open to him now. What did the Argonian need to pay off? And to whom?

"Please. I gave you what you asked for. I paid your price. Now...let me go. The time...mmph...the time...isn't up yet..."

A price? To escape, Fy'acin imagined, to buy his initial freedom. A loan that someone was then trying to get the rest of? Or perhaps trying to entice the lizard to come back, to give up without trying to get the rest of the payment?

The more that he watched, the more fascinated he became. His partner was surrounded, ankle to neck, by the various tendrils of black and green. They oozed and hissed as they moved, steaming as if they'd come from somewhere much warmer than this blasted piece of icy hell. They were everywhere, even -

Squelch.

That explained the sounds, he realized. The Argonian was not only naked, but half-impaled on one of the tentacles, the length of it pushed deep in his rump and holding itself there. His cock, likewise, was held and restrained, the tip teased with another length of slithery slime. Fy'acin had to remind himself to keep breathing as he watched the casual magical molestation, keeping his eyes mostly closed.

"I said...let...me...go."

Darts-Over-Parchment's 'command', such was it was, was mocked by the tendrils as they quivered and shook, almost as if they were laughing at him. Yet, at the same time, they did withdraw, the last to depart being the one rammed up the lizard's ass. The wizard gasped, slumping backward, falling flat on his ass with his legs outstretched and his heels digging into the ground. Despite everything, his cock was hard.

Fy'acin closed his eye properly, allowing the sleep that he'd been holding back to take him. He had options now, and he planned to use them.

They arrived in Ivarstead just before sundown the next day with no complaints or problems. The locals weren't as outgoing as some members of Riften - and there was certainly no house of love, such as there was back at the bigger city - but Fy'acin was happier to notice the lack of a wall, or guards watching it. It meant that they had arrived somewhere that was easier to play with.

They walked past the path that led up to High Hrothgar and found the local inn. The feline stepped inside before nodding towards an empty table.

"Why don't you sit down? I'll get us some drinks."

"...Why?"

"Hmm? Just because I can."

"..."

Darts-Over-Parchment obviously didn't buy it, but he went to the table anyway. Fy'acin smiled. He would have to get used to having a smarter traveling companion.

Walking over to the bar, he offered the Nord behind it a couple of septims. What he got was the cheapest wine that he had ever seen. It smelled like vinegar that was starting to turn, and he sniffed at the bartender.

"This is what you have?"

"Take it or give it back, cat."

"Hmmph. I'm tempted."

"Go on."

Rolling his eyes at the Nord, he took the pair of bottles with him back to the table. The robed Argonian fixed him with a level stare as soon as he sat down.

"So...what are you planning?" Darts-Over-Parchment asked.

"Oh? What makes you think that I have a plan?"

"You're being too nice."

"Ah, but I am a cat. We are capricious by nature; claws and fur, teeth and tongue."

"And you're paying for things."

"...That is a giveaway I didn't expect."

"Heh, yes," Darts-Over-Parchment said, shaking his head. "So, what's on your mind, and what are trying to get out of me?"

"Oh, just a bit of entertainment."

"I'm not fucking you over the table," the Argonian said, taking one of the wine bottles and sniffing it. He made a face and passed it back. "And I'll take water, thanks."

"Ungrateful. But that's besides the point."

Fy'acin leaned back. Their table was more of a bench with a long slab of wood on either side that served as seats, and he leaned back with leg up over his end. The Khajiit panned his gaze over the common room, humming to himself as he looked over the various men and women that patronized the joint.

There weren't many that were particularly appealing. Oh, sure, there was the rugged farmer and their various iterations, but he could get that anywhere. There were a few decent-looking women, but they were often a bit on the older side. Not that they couldn't be fun, as well, but the cat was a little bored of the standard things. He wanted something new, something different, something -

Ah, now that would be fascinating. He spotted a gold-skinned Altmer female in the corner, leaning over a book as she nibbled on a piece of bread out of the corner of her mouth. Nodding to himself, Fy'acin turned back to his companion.

"I think our meal deserves some entertainment."

"I think that you need to temper your expectations," Darts-Over-Parchment said, pulling a book from one of his many pockets. "But if you want some of your own, go ahead. I disavow any association with you in the process, by the way."

"Come on. Surely you wouldn't mind a pretty Altmer woman dancing on our table in nothing but her underwear for us?"

"I think that you drastically underestimate my wants, but regardless."

"Mmmm, think of it. Her shiny skin reflecting the fire, her assets bouncing, her rump -"

"I'm sure you can find a person willing to dance any which way you like once we get to a large enough city and you come into coin."

The Argonian was being drastically unhelpful, but it did mean that the door was open to using his leverage. After all, half the point of bringing it up might have been to see how helpful his partner would be in the day to day, but the other half was to see how he'd react in public to the threat of his secret being revealed.

Fy'acin leaned back even further, folding his arms behind his head and lounging as if his seat was far fancier than it actually was. He pointed the toes of his boots, sighing to himself.

"Of course, that would be far easier if I had the help of a great and powerful mage...one that had dealings with a Daedra, perhaps?"

To give the lizard credit, the sudden stillness was only momentary, something that he would have missed if he hadn't been looking at him. The page had only stopped for a fraction of a second mid-turn, but it had stopped. Fy'acin chuckled.

"Of course, such a person would be rather dangerous to travel with. Why, they might be a threat to anyone and anything, and the Jarls of every hold would pay greatly to have such a threat brought to their attention. Oh, I'm sure that you might escape eventually, but it would be such a waste of time. And I don't think you have much of that, do you?"

"..."

"Of course, you could indulge a bored cat from time to time, and that would be all that was needed to keep my silence. Certainly, that doesn't seem like such a bad price to me. You could just -"

The soft 'thump' of Darts-Over-Parchment closing his book silenced the cat, and Fy'acin looked out the corner of his eyes. He expected to see someone that was a little afraid and a little angry at the same time, but more afraid. Instead, he saw someone with a cold stare, someone that had been pushed into a corner and did not like it. He saw someone that actually sent a little chill down his own spine.

"...Do you want to play this game?" Darts-Over-Parchment asked.

"...I think I do," Fy'acin said, covering the slight wiggle in his confidence with a smile. "And when it's over, we both get paid and go our separate ways."

"..."

"But for now, I want my silence paid for."

"...The Altmer woman, you said."

"Mmm, yes. A little challenge -"

"Done."

"But you -"

The Argonian's eyes flashed from white to green, and the air shimmered with a strange sense of warmth and...attraction. For a brief moment before he forced himself to push past it, Fy'acin himself felt oddly attracted to the lizard across from him, eager to earn his approval. It was like the drive that he'd felt when he was a young teenager of a cat, eager to earn the flashing fang-smile of every passing Khajiit that might show him a good time.

Then it passed, and he groaned, rubbing his head.

"What was that?"

"A mass Charm spell," Darts-Over-Parchment said. "A relic of old Cyrodiil, before the Emperor fell."

"What did it do?"

"Look around."

And Fy'acin did. At first, it looked no different, but then he looked again, and his eyes widened as he realized that, one and all, the residence of the inn had turned to look at the Argonian. They were all but drooling as they stared at him, their lips turned up in smiles of adoration. They were...they were infatuated with him. Even the Altmer, sitting in the corner, had looked up and -

"Is she -"

"Quite likely fingering herself," the Argonian said, pulling his book up again. "You could likely get her to dance naked, and nobody would bat an eye, so long as you said that she was doing it for me."

"...You can...do that?"

"That, and more. So, take your pleasure, Fy'acin. I would prefer to read, for now. And tonight, when we are somewhere private, we may talk about your little...price."

The little shiver from before came back with a vengeance, and he bit off his sarcastic response. He knew that he was getting in hot water by threatening a mage, but he should have thought of the other ramifications.

A mage that had the power to pay off a Daedra had the power to do a great many other things. If he was to keep his freedom and his partnership, he was going to need to think of something smart, and fast.

The End

Summary: Fy'acin and Darts-Over-Parchment make their way from the cave, talking about what they'll do going forward. Then, Fy'acin finds out some of Darts's secrets.

Tags: M/solo, Charm, Hypnosis, Tentacles, Skyrim, Argonian, Khajiit, Anal, Nudity, Musk, Teasing, Magic, Series,