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My Sweet Shadow.

In the cold prison of Cidhna mine in Markarth, a young argonian man named Víthor:

The color of his scales where black, as night. And the hide on his chest red as blood itself; Very unusual chest color for an argonian.

He has tall and build like full grown orc

His horn were long and curved. His head was shaved. The eyes was as green as a rainforest with slim pupils like a snake. Made him look like a blood-thirsty killer.

Víthor was nothing of that sort:

He is a very kind and loyal person, he had a very quiet personality. But the other prisoners did n´t need to know that.

Víthor was "born" Black-marsh. He never knew his biological parents, he was raised by a nord. Which made him count in Talos as one of the nine divines.

Wearing only armless rags and old trousers with no shoes freezing as he was hacking his pickaxe with an exhausting blow to the wall to get the last chunks of silver from the wall to pay his 4000 gold dept. "Only 24 ores left!" he shouted loudly into his mind of as his head ached more than ever.

"Hey boy!" An old nord man came to him, patted his shoulder took the pickaxe from the argonians almost dying hands and started mining the rest of the silver ores "Sit down my boy and rest for a while eh, let me handle it " The old man grinned at the argonian.

The nord has about his late fifties, he had an eye patch on his left, and long hair that reached his shoulders, a pretty long beard that covered most of his throat and his mustache covered his lips almost completely.

• T...thank you, Víthor said with a barely breathing voice and collapsed to his bedroll, rolled to his back "Wwh...wh.." Breathe boy! As he rose his voice and grinned.

Víthor took some heavy breaths "Why are you helping me? While the large argonian raised his spiky brow wondering.

The old nord took a deep breath stroking back his long gray-brown hair behind his ear with his left arm. "See boy" He took out something from his pocket and opened up his palm. It was some kind of necklace; the ebony forged piece of work was about three centimeters and shaped of a broken sword with a small flawless diamond at the tip of the swords small handle. He looked a little at the midnight colored jewel on his palm while the small platinum chains hanged down between his fingers, sighted out:

"I have a daughter" Víthor could almost understand where this was going.

"Her name is Freyah Dragon-hide, she is about 24 by now, and please... if you find her on your travels after you are free..." He grabbed Víthors wrist and put the moon shining necklace on his palm:

"I can't guarantee I'll find her, but i promise you I won't sell this necklace for my own selfish deeds"

The old man smiled in relief and patted Víthors shoulder "I'm glad could i find a good honorable friend like you in this gods forsaken prison" The large argonian grinned and shacked the old man's hand.

"Well... I better get up now and dig up your damn ore" He said and stands up with a bit more enthusiasm and started digging the rest of them.

Later that cold night they sat opposite each other between the warming glows and lesser fires:

"I didn´t really catch your name." Víthor asked curiously:

"My name is Bjorn Dragon hide" grinning at the argonian for a quick second.

His attention got more into his hands that where closer to the glows and fires and rubbed them:

"Brrw... and I was complaining that Riverwood was cold, and you are...?" He asked kindly "My name is Talon´JeeVíthoriziius but... you can call me Víthor" Bjorn looked very confused about Víthors long and difficult pronouncing name.

"So Bjorn how did you get behind bars?" The argonian leaned forward with his forearms resting on his knees:

"Six years ago... My daughter Freya is a bard. She travels all over Skyrim just to entertain people with her talents" He sobbed for a second and dried his only eye.

"Then she said that she was on her way to Markarth, I wanted to go with her, to hear her beautiful singing voice combine with the sensitive tones from the lute, so I traveled with her to Markarth" Bjorn said and smiled.

"One night at the Silverblood inn, it seemed so nice and peacefully inside the tavern until a drunken Thalmor soldier came in the middle and eyed at my daughter"

The drunken Thalmor soldier closed in behind her, when he reached her chest.

She had enough; and put her down the lute carefully on the bartender's desk, and she lifted her forearm and smacked her elbow on to the drunken lads face. Bjorn laughed so proudly at her daughter and she smiled back to him "That's my girl! He shouted to her from the other side.

The drunken elf quickly woke up with rage and stand up; he grabbed the wine bottle on the bartender's desk and smacked Freya on the back of her head making a scene while the wine bottle shattered into pieces and spilled wine over her white dress, leaving her unconscious on the wooden floor.

Bjorn raged and walked faster to the elf while he licked of wine from Freya's soft neck. He grabbed him on his long ears and threw the elf to the side "Stand up you perverted little worm!"

The elf got even angrier and stood up on his feet but before the elf could lift his guard ,

he smashed with his fist harder than Ysgramors shield right onto that long nose.

Bjorn grunted of pure anger: "If you ever get even close to my daughter I will tear out your fucking spine of with my bare hands! Do you hear me!?

The elf couldn't hear him, he has dead... the force of the punch has powerful enough to break his nose and braked through the sensitive cranium.

Carelessly ignoring the elf. Bjorn handed a palm size sack of gold to the bartender:

" Let my daughter spend a couple of nights here" He said with a calmer voice.

Bjorn carried his daughter to a local bedroom. "Uuh... father what happened" she said with a week voice. "I´ll explain later dear, you need to rest" he carried Freya with her arm around his neck and shoulder and feeling her pushed his long hair into his neck.

"D..Did I knock that pervert?" She asked proudly. "You did, maybe you can write a song about it" laughing and put her under the covers on the warm queen-sized bed. "How much did I drink?" She asked while slumbering under the thick warm covers pressing at her body. "Sleep well my dear, I´ll have a present for you when you wake up" He has thinking about the midnight ebony necklace when suddenly.

"Ysmirs beard he is dead" The guards came in when they heard screaming the same time Bjorn walked into the mess hall to check things out.

"There he is!" somebody shouted and the two guards ran unto him, Bjorn tried to fight his way out and that made things worse so they threw him to Cidhnna mine.

"And I've been her ever since" did Bjorn say why finishing his story.

"What about you my boy, how did you end up here" He asked like he just forgot

everything he just told to Víthor.

"I´ll tell you, but you have to promise that you keep it until the end of your time" He gave Bjorn a deadly serious look while telling him, glaring at him with his frightening pupils by a flaming color of emerald green behind.

Bjorn took that look very seriously:

"My friend, you got my word" Grinning and shaking hands from the other side of the fading glows.

Víthor began to tell his story and began with his Childhood.

He never knew his real parents so he was raised by a Nord woman named Tarja in Black-marsh.

He got his name because it stood on a scroll.

She said she founded him abandoned and was barely a month old. One sad day Tarja got very sick it was a rare fever and she did n´t survive very much longer. When Tarja died the little ten year old ebony scaled argonian got adopted by a Shadow-Scale mentor.

Years have passed. Barely twenty years old has Víthor become almost a master assassin. His best skills has with his crossbow for range and two ebony daggers for close combat, his worst subject was restoration magic: of all combat experienced argonians they are usually pretty good at healing and cast ward spells.

Víthor got very tired being a Shadow-scale, he wanted to live a normal life, get married, settle down and raise a family someday he thought. Víthor did not have any friends except for his mother Tarja who loved him and his mentor who only respected him, the other Shadow-scales where ether jealous or nervous about his skills.

Six years later he grew very tired being stuck in an assassin guild like a slave. The next night Víthors mentor gave him a mission to assassinate a rich skooma dealer in Markarth, Skyrim "simple! Right?" his mentor said enthusiastic with a weak expression. This was his opportunity to run away from the Shadow-scales. Víthors plan was to assassinate the target in public, submit to go to prison and then escape from there and then enjoy a new life in Skyrim. Víthor has escaped from many prisons easily, but he never knew about Cidhna mine.

Days, weeks or maybe months have passed when he traveled to Skyrim by horse and foot. He came to Markarth disguised as a priest of Mara, Víthor locked his target and nothing could catch his attention, his target took the stone stairs uphill and Víthor stalked after him slowly, he wanted to get out of the Shadow-scales as so badly that for just walking... the stress and exitement made him sweat that ran down to his jaw and mouth, giving him a salty taste. He finally got to his target there they were guards watching.

Vithor was about twenty centimeters in front of the back on his target; he dug up the pitch black knife with his right hand from his waist: "Lady Mara... I beg you forgiveness..." he whispered to himself:

He grabbed the targets around his forearm and stabbed him multiple times on his chest, lots of blood squirting and sounds of puncturing lungs came out out as he snatched out the dagger from the helpless targets body to violently stab again, Víthor wanted so much attention as possible from the guards.

"Thank you...and rest easy my friend" Víthor whispered on his argonian language to the victim's ear. The guards rush to Víthor:

"You have committed crime to Skyrim and her people! What say you at your defence!?"

Víthor coat where almost covered entirely of blood, he lifted his arms, dropped the midnight shining daggers to the ground as the blood from his victim dripped from his scaly hands: "I submit to prison" he raised his voice to the guard in front of him with a Nordic steel sword pointing at Victor's sensitive throat thru his hood:

"Of to Sidna mine with you then" The guard said with a cocky voice having no idea which throat that sword is pointing at, in just a brief second he could easily snatch the guards sword and quickly kill the three of them behind the giant lizards tail, but he decided to follow the guards.

"You´ll never see the sun again, you hear me? No one escape Cidhna mine... no one" did the other guard say with a very serious voice. "We´ll see about that" Víthor whispered for himself as he grinned as he followed the guards.

When he entered the prison they took all his clothes and weapons, leaving him with only rags. An orcish woman armored in Nordic steel stand in front of him holding his daggers, rotating them slowly: "All right, prisoner. You are in Cidhna mine now, so eyes front. There is no resting, here you work! You´ll earn your way out. You´ll mine ore until you start throw up silver-bars. Did I make myself clear!?" She raised her husky voice. She looked at Víthors contract: "4000 gold bounty, eh? Tell you what. If you work your way out, you get these back" She waved his small midnight blades in front of him. "Now get to work!

He got into the prison and tried to explore some kind way out. The prison was highly secure and there was no way out. Víthor did n´t wanted to kill anyone else. The guards are not brute mercenaries; they were good men and women with families just doing their jobs. Most important of all, he wanted his favorite daggers back from the green grunting lady.

"So I had no other choice than work my way out."

"Five months later and here I am" He told to Bjorn.

"A Shadowscale... I´ve heard there is not a lot of them left. "Yeah... I know. Vithor sighted. "I´ll better go to sleep, good night. It was nice talking to you" He said and got into his bedroll by the cold and hard stone.

Next morning the orcish woman came down to Víthor: "Hey lizard! Wake up!" And poked his curvy horns with her sword case, he just continued snoring.

"HEY!!!" She shouted loudly causing the large argonian to flinch:

"*Snort* What now...?" He yawningly asked with a frustrating voice. "You earned your way out. Here are your daggers. Enjoy your freedom. Now scram! And take a bath for goodness sakes..." Covering her pig shaped nose and poked him again with her sword case.

Later when Víthor was about to leave, he took his farewell to the old nord:

"I guess this is goodbye then..." Bjorn said with a smile and shakes the argonian´s hand.

"You have been a like a son to me. I'm going to miss having such a young wise friend by my side"

They shook hands with a pat on each other's shoulder:

"I´ll be back with your daughter and your freedom, I can promise you that" The words of hope came from Víthors lips. That gave a smile on Bjorns beard covered face. The two men turned and crossed path and Víthor has on his way to a new life and Bjorn back in the cold prison with hope pulsing thru his veins.

When he stepped out of the prisons opening the sun blended his eyes and hurt a bit from the strong beams that warmed his cold skin and dried the sweaty rags after being imprisoned for months.

While the argonian stretched his limbs on the suns warming light, suddenly a hired mercenary walked in front of him. He had a large muscular structure just like Víthor, his hair were red and his age where about the thirties. He was equipped with a studded armor and boots and gauntlets of hard leather:

"I'm here to teach you a lesson" He said and raised his mace.

Víthor didn´t want to kill him, he has more interested on his armor. The Mercenary swung the mace at the argonians face: He dodged by leaning backwards, then grabbed the man´s wrist with his cold left hand and twisted, making the mercenary loose some grip of the mace and then snatched it with his right hand leaving the mercenary unarmed. The argonian quickly smashed the mercenary´s on his leg, he didn´t brake anything but the pain made him fall on his knees, leaning a bit forward and covered the wound with his palm. Víthor took his black knife from his belt and pointed the tip on a thick vain on the hired mercenary´s throat:

"You want to live? Hand over your armor and clothes right now... keep the underwear" The argonian glared at him with frustration burning in his eyes. The scared mercenary handed over his armor and clothing except for his underwear caked up like dough on Víthors hand. "If I ever see you follow me. I won't hesitate to slice your throat up" He said just to scare him.

Later that day... He got his new gear on, and a few baths. He finally left Markath thinking about his promise to Bjorn. He wanted a peaceful place to think. He always wanted to go by the waterfall close by Dark Water Crossing when he traveled to Skyrim as a Shadowscale. The argonian took the carriage to the closest hold and traveled by foot the rest of the way.

The waterfall was loud and the thousands liter of lukewarm water splashing into the lake making the air humid. A bit further from the waterfall Víthor hears weak tunes of a lute playing: "When the dragonborn comes" Víthor turned his head to the beautiful notes and sees a tent and a fire close by it. As he got closer to the small camp the tones clearer and he saw a woman in a hood down by the fire. She was equipped with a fur armor that only covered her legs and breasts and reinforced leather boots and gauntlets moving around the strings of the lute.

Víthor got closer to the young woman by the fire. She saw him and quickly standing up and raised her sword and pointed at his face: "Don´t come any closer!" She said with anger and lesser fear on her voice. "I-I'm sorry! I mean you no harm!" The large argonian shouted.

She must have thought he was a bandit or a thief. She tried to stab his chest; Víthor dodged to the side but failed to grab her wrist and snatch her sword and leaved him with a slash wound on his chest and cutting of his leather top, leaving it hanging on the his right side.

"Aaah! Damn it woman!" He got really frustrated and covered the dripping wound with his hand. "Oh did I hurt you!?" She raised her voice with sarcasm. Víthor got more concentrated and succeed to snatch her sword from her wrist and threw the sword into the lake. Víthor raised his hands into to the air:

"Look! I do not want to hur..." She interrupted by giving him a massive blow on his snout with her elbow "...That hurt..." he said with a deep frustrating voice. Víthor hasn't felt pain by hand-to-hand since he was 10, and it came from a woman. He started to get impressed:

She grinned and held up her guard: She started with a straight jab with her right and then followed up with a left hook; the argonian easily blocked both attacks and managed to twist her around and push her away with his foot onto her butt. He was starting to have fun

They fought for hours and sweat was dripping everywhere from their bodies.

"C´mon lady! You can do better than that!" He called her and grinned. The fighting spirit burned inside her. The inner viking woke her up. She took her hood off, letting her pitch black hair out and dances in the warm blowing wind and reached back to her shoulders. She opened her eyes: Her blue iris was shining as an iceberg on a sunset, her lips was red like a wild rose that just waking up from a cold winter in Haafingar hold. She stroked her hair backwards behind her ears making her forehead shine by her own sweat.

Víthor got distracted by a shine of her blood red lips letting his guard down for a blink of a second and took a knee to the stomach and fell down to his back with laughs and then the pain started to spark and some of the laughing turned into coughing. When the woman got closer Víthor wrapped his tail around her leg and dropped her onto the warm grass, he quickly got up, put his knee on her belly and pushed her arm to the ground with his palms on her both wrists.

As furious as a daedric lord she whispered to Víthors ear holes

"If you even try to touch me further... I swear to Talos... I will cut off your stones and shove them up your exit! You hear me?

"What?!...Uh...No! I just wanted to have a friendly conversation. You attacked me. I had to defend myself. Then I got excited and having fun fighting. I... I'm so sorry!" He explained raising both of his pointy brows and looking deeply into her aquatic blue eyes.

The argonian moved his large body away from the more sensitive woman so she could sit up.

They got closer to the fire and started talking: "Oh Talos forgive me" The woman nervously said about Víthors slash wound on his chest.

"Don´t worry about it. We argonians natural heal at least 10 times faster than the most other races"

It got awkwardly quiet for a while. "My name is Víthoriizus" Nervously reviled his name. Víthor where always nervous talking with other than his own kind.

"Hehe, you are not an ordinary wanderer, eh Vesuvius?" She mispronounced his name.

"It is pronounced; Ví-Thor-ii-zus" He grinned and corrected her.

"I am sorry, I'm not so very good with long names" she grinned and looked down at the ground trying to hold her from laughing about such an idiotic mistake.

She was not a brute or barbaric like most of the nords Víthor has encountered. She was actually pretty sweet, mature, her body was slim and a bit muscular; you could see her biceps and shape of her curves... her body was pretty nice to look at.

"So what do you do for living?" He turned his head and asked the young woman. She took a green-blue like wooden flute out from a large bag behind her and started to play some notes. He later figured out that she was a traveling bard.

"You play the flute too?" Víthor said to her. She tossed the flute over to him: "All right then, let's hear!" She said with a cocky attitude.

When Víthor put the flute nozzle between his lips and started playing:

The tunes where very light and it sounded like an instrumental pirate song.

"Not bad!" She said, sounding surprised. "I didn´t know how a build man like yourself could be interested in such thing. Who taught you?" She wondered.

It got silence for a while... "It is a pretty touchy subject" Víthor said. "You see. When I was a hatchling..."

Víthor began to tell about his childhood. His human stepmother Tarja. She loved the sensitive light melodies of the flute. When the little argonian was old enough to talk, she taught him how to handle the instrument. The melody He played to the woman beside him was the last tunes Tarja´s ears caught before she slumbered and her soul vanished to find peace in Sovreigngard.

The big tough argonian´s nord spirit tried holding himself:

"She was a great woman... The only good memories I've got... Was with her... I where only 10 when she left me... Oh, Talos I miss her..." He covered his emerald like eyes and a tear ran rapidly down to his jaw.

Víthor hasn't cried once since his mother´s death. He must have had a flashback when his lips touched the flute.

The young girl felt pretty sorry for him, so she got close enough to give him a pat in the shoulder.

"I know exactly how it feels loosing someone you love." She looked at him in the eyes.

Víthor got more comfortable hearing her voice and feeling her warm hand slowly stroking the cold shoulder of his.

"Hehe, I remember she use to call me; my little handbag... Talos what embarrassing that felt when I was about 7."

Both laughed for a long time and talking about almost everything and after a while:

"You can call me Freyah" The girl said when smiling.

"Freyah Dragon-hide?" He said out loud.

"Gods...how do you know my name!?" She surprisingly said.

Víthor dug up something shiny from his left pocket, showed her the necklace and told the whole story about her father and Víthors promise.

"My father is alive?!"

Six years ago, the Thalmor told Freyah that her father where sent to execution for murderer of a fellow Thalmor agent. But instead he where send to Cidhna mine, Bjorn did successfully worked off his bounty. But then they found our Bjorn was a valuable digging resource and gave him an extra 3000 bounty. He was too old and tired to work off that dept. They faked a funeral for her father's death so she wouldn't suspect anything.

Freya got closer to Víthor, resting her head on his chest. Víthor got pretty nervous because he never had a woman that close to him before. She held the platinum chain with two fingers at each side letting the small ebony forged broken sword hang in the air:

"This necklace has belong to my family since the first era.

Víthor looked down at her and grinned:

"Your father was going to give it to you 6 years ago, if he had n´t accidentally killed that Thalmor milk-drinker"

She smiled, and then noticed the scar from the slash wound earlier on his chest that she was resting her head: "Talos...It is healed up completely." She strokes the scar´s line a little slowly:

"Mrhh! It still hurts you know."

Freyah woke up from herself and quickly stood up:

"I...I'm sorry, I did not mean to..." Her face got almost as red as her lips.

"Relax, it hurts just a little" He countered her while he had no idea what she meant.

Then after some awkward silence he realized.

"Oh... that, I... uh... liked it. Having a good friend beside you is nothing to be ashamed of.

He reached his arm towards her as he smiled:

"Come on... sit."

She stroked her hair behind her ears as she walked towards the fire and sat next to him.

Víthor asked her looking up at the stars:

"Where did you learn to fight like you do? Who is your mentor?"

And turned his head to her.

"Mentors actually." She said looking at him with a sweet smile.

Ever since she got knocked by that perverted elf six ears ago, she have bin traveling all over Tamriel for different kind of self defense.

She began to train basic hand-to-hand combat with her cousin; similar to the mixed martial arts.

She learned quickly, and wanted to learn more. She have bin training her balance on the high treetops of Valenwood, and all the way to Orsinium, winning wrestling tournaments. She met her first lover there.

In a smal village, not a stronghold. Could n´t be anymore than around 20 people and a few children. The young men of the village where fighting and wrestling topless on the arena and impressing the girls.

One of the boys winked at a woman in the audience. Her father got upset and entered the muddy arena and the audience shouted happily and applauded.

Freyah met an orcish woman in the audience:

"Her name was Argi" Freyah said looking up at the stars, smiling.

Crystal blue eyes... Just like Freyah but her hair was light brown; it was pretty unusual for an orc. Her skin was pale green that reflected the sunlight with her beauty, and she was the only daughter of five children.

They went to a more quiet place in the forest:

They alone in the forest, in love. Undressing and letting their virginity slowly fade away.

Stroking their cloth less bodies, feeling every part of their slender and muscular bodies.

They were so deep inside the forest so the village could n´t hear their pleasuring sounds of Mara´s cleansing light upon them.

She wanted to stay in the village with her.

A few weeks later her father and elder brothers found out about her and Freyah´s relationship, they respected Argi´s decision and had to accept.

Two years later there was a bandit raid, more like a massacre. They killed almost more people than valuables they took. The bandit leader was n´t an orc, in fact it was a khajiit:

He had a muscular body and was a few feet shorter than his comrades.

Black fur, that reflected the light from the burning flames, yellow eyes with snake-like pupils. He had scars all over his face, the thick pink lines of healed flesh instead of fur.

Three golden rings on each pointing ear and one on his nose.

Only looking at his face screamed out a cold-blooded murderer.

Freyah turned her gaze to his fur covered fingers:

An inch long claw; like a curved dagger on every finger tip coated with dry blood:

Usually most khajiits cut their own claws at least half a centimeter short, but this one did n´t.

Freya and her lover were bound in ropes and leathers next to each other and most of the women and the younger.

The oldest brother tied himself loose and berserkerly ran to the bandit chief as he lifted his arm to the air, growled and ready his fist.

The other bandits readied their weapons, the khajiit raised his paw against them:

"Calm down boys... This one is mine." The other bandits yield their weapons.

The orc stopped and held his guard and grunting in rage:

"Scared? You little fur-ball." The orc teased him. The khajiit strike him with a 180 degree kick that broke his guard and smashed his jaw.

No wonder the other brute orc bandits followed him. He was a master of "The whispering fang style" He must have been one of those monks from Elsweyr that fled from their temple.

The orc rolled backwards and quickly got up on his feet, stroking his bearded jaw to ease a bit of the pain. The khajiit flexed his fingers and gave him a powerful slash on his cheek and blood spurted out on the bounded audience:

"I expected more from an orc"He said with a cocky attitude, and the other bandits laughed.

The grunting breathing turned into growls. The orc removed his palm from his bloody cheek and reached for the khajiit´s neck. The grinning cat grabbed the green berserkers wrist and dug his long claws that pierced his flesh like butter and rasping his bone.

He shut his pointy teeth as he screamed in pain, and he could hear his poor sister screaming. The orc grabbed the khajiit´s nose ring with his index finger and ripped it out:

Blood spurted out as hooked out the piece of flesh where the ring was attached, leaving the khajiit with another thick scar on his face:

The cat´s eyes got wide open. He did not scream neither did he cry out. His ears went back, he opened his lips, and left his teeth shut. He let out a furious growl:

He took a hard grab on the orc´s long hair with his left paw, he flexed the finger tips on his right... He forced a powerful blow with his claws, easily penetrating the orc´s vulnerable throat, he grabbed tightly and ripped his veins out.

He fell to the ground coughing as blood spurted out from his throat.

"Nooo!!!" Argi cried out. Her elder brother looked at her to said " I love you"

She could n´t hear a word what he said, but she understood the lips movements.

Freya got her ropes cut off with her dagger she hid inside her boot. As the khajiit turned his back she had a chance for an element of surprise.

She got closer to him, just about to stab him in the back, suddenly he dodge the stab attempt, like he knew exactly that she was there and disarmed her easily:

She elbowed him on his bleeding nose, he staggered. Freyah hurried up by giving him a knee to his furry jaw:

"This one got some fight in her." He grinned. " But J´Daar is tired now"

He quickly grabbed some sand from the ground and blinded her. He did a high jump, performing a spinning kick in the air, he broke her guard with his front leg, and the his back leg came with all the weight that slammed Freyah´s face and she fell to the ground almost unconscious. It was so quick.

" Kill the rest. Burn the village. Take everything of value. We are leaving."

"Spare the young nord. I may want to see her come and fight me again someday"

Freyah saw her lover and her friends screamed in pain as they got burned alive, meanwhile one of the bandits carried her away from the fires.

The orc dropped her on a hill:

"You are very lucky, our chief rarely spares challengers" And he turned away.

"He...Hey!... You!" She shouted with anger to the orc. He turned his neck.

"Your name...?"

"Why do you care?!" He answered.

"So I can find you... and have your chiefs head in my trophy wall."

" His name is J´Daar Qel´Manduri. That is all I´ll let you know." He turned his back and walked away.

She cried herself to sleep that night, feeling the scent of smoke and death. She swore vengeance on that hairy bastard.

Next morning she walked by the village; ash and burned victims everywhere.

She could n´t just leave them there:

She found an intact shovel and began to dig several holes. She covered every body with stones and placed some flowers on every tomb. She did not knew which burned body was Argi´s. That did n´t matter, because... she was in a better place now.

Freyah sat down on her knees, giving a moment of silence as she grieved.

A few hours later she walked away, and continued her journey for more training.

"I could never love another woman like her." Freyah finished her story.

"I'm sorry for your loss, but what about J´Daar?" Víthor asked. Freyah looked at the ground and let out an expression of disgust:

"I have not found him yet, but when I do. I'm gonna have a new pair of gloves."

" Don´t let the anger flow over you... It will control you, if you let it."

"That wont change my mind. He must pay for what he did. But thanks for reminding me."

"I understand." He felt bad about talking about her past and wanted to change the subject as soon as possible.

Víthor got curious and asked:

"So...uh...you are in to women? I suppose?"

"Love can be found anywhere. Personality is all that matters. Not race or gender." And she took a deep look up in the dark sky.

He did also change his look to the shadowed heaven:

"Ever think what's up there...? beneath the stars..." He placed his right hand to the warm grass.

The scaled black hand moved slowly towards her, like a sabre cat hunting its prey.

He laid his hand on top of hers, dug his fingers under her palm, stroking her smooth fingers with his thumb. She got comfortable.

The argonian moved closer to her, by lifting himself with his left arm.

He slowly put his shaking arm around her waist. Her reaction was positive and rested her head on his wine red chest, smiling. A sigh of relief came through his breath:

" Not a lot of men pay´s attention to me. Could it be because of my looks?"

His snout got closer to her ear and whispered:

"You´re right Freyah. Race does not matter. I don´t know much about humans, but I know when I see true beauty." And wrapped his left arm on her belly, and gave her a delicate lick on her cheek bone. He shook his head and turned it to another way:

"I...I...I...I'm so sorry. I did n´t mean to push you."

She turned around and stood on her knees, leaned forward and gave him a sweet kiss on his black scaly cheek. He turned his head to her. She held her palm by his jaw:

"That was very sweet of you to say... I feel the same way..."

They looked at each other in the eyes. Their faces slowly got closer to each others mouths. She closed half her eyes letting a piece of oceans blue crystals visible, licking his lower lip with the tip of her tongue. She opened her mouth a bit wider and giving him a wet kiss, he felt her warm breath coming slowly out of her nose.

He suddenly stopped and looked at the ground:

"Freyah... I´m an argonian."

" Víthor... I could n´t care less...come here."

She gave him a sweet kiss on his lips; he felt the warm silky lips of hers slowly stroking his and he countered with a playful lick.

The Argonian could n´t kiss the way human and elven races do, so he began to pleasure her cheek to her neck with licks and soft bites. She breathed heavily by the long slowly rotating tongue sinking to the bottom of her neck. He stopped and suddenly his inner male instinct woke up and began sucking at the sensitive skin of her smooth neck, she moaned:

"Víth. Mm...slow down...*gasp*... we got all night..." She whispered and kissing him on his cheek and slowly stroking his snout with her warm soft hand. Freya began to unbolt her armor and letting her silk covered breasts out: The covers made her breast shine like the sea in a full moon.

"Your turn handsome" Freya said with a lusty expression. Víthor got so nervous, sweat dripped down on Freya's trousers. He quickly stands up on his knees stripped of his studded armor´s top leaving him only with his trousers left on. As he removed the straps from his trousers, Víthor gave her a lusty look and flexing his large muscular body just to show off and impress her; one of the only things he knew that women liked. He would only do it in front of Freyah, usually he is very shy about his body.

Freyah began to pull down a bit of his trousers "Shall we go inside the tent?" She giggled. Later they began to throw all of their clothes outside the tent, and laid snuggling bare naked on the soft and furry bear pelts. They began to playfully wrestle all around the tent.

Víthor wrapped his strong arms around Freyah. Feeling the thin body, her muscular back and her perfect curves. It was like holding lady Dibella herself.

The large argonian squeezed her harder with his arms, wrapped his tail around her leg and flipped over so he laid on top of her.

He looked nervously over her shiny pale body:

"Uuh...*gulp* pleasuring a woman is new to me Freyah."

"Why don´t you continue your actions like you did outside" She pet his back head.

"Like this...?" Sucking and giving her gentle bites at her neck. She let out a light gasp.

He went further down to her breasts, licking them by the sides:

"Mm...Yes!" She moaned out.

His warm breath touched her breasts, making her nipples harder, he began to nibble softly at her erected buttons. She let out a gasp and deep moans:

"Heh... you like that?" Víthor grinned at her.

Freyah spread her legs, like the wings of an eagle. The signs were clear. As he went down to her lower body he licked and sucked from her breasts to her belly and further down, feeling the taste of salt and lust. The powerfull moans she gave him got Víthor even more exited and his bone got even harder and his tail began to wobble all around in the tent behind him and accidently whipped her foot:

"Ah!" She let an angry groan. "Watch that tail of yours!"

"Which one?" He said laughing and still licked and sucked his way down to the rose between her thighs. Freyah pushed her thighs further on to Víthor and letting them rest on his biceps.

Víthor looked at her leaking entrance:

The lips looked soft and juicy and the smal sherry above them. Her member was sorounded by very thin hair: It was fine cutted, every thin hairstraw has about half a centimeter. It must have been itchy walking around with such tight fur trousers.

Víthor looked at Freyah. She was embarrassed, maybe it was the haircut.

" I like the haircut" He said to her and she giggled.

He did not knew what to do to pleasure her right, but what man can resist to taste a woman´s flower while its wide open him. His snout got closer, his tongue got out and began to taste her juicy lips, he went a bit higher to her cherry and her moans became louder.

He went down to the lips again and stuck his toungue inside her. "So this is a taste of a woman" He thought.

He gently took his complete finger inside her to feel her inner fleshy walls, and she squeezed as hard as she moaned. It was tight.

He removed his tongue, cleaned her from her fluids and licked his way up; leaving a trail mixed with her juices and his saliva and gave her a tongue kiss.

Freyah grabbed his fully grown shaft with her hand and put the other hand on his cheek:

"I want you now" And put her hands by his sweaty chest and went up to his shoulders:

"Just tell me when to stop and I´ll stop."

He laid on top on Freyah, spread his thighs let the tip of his shaft parting her lips as he slowly pressed in.

It got even tighter after the head got inside her so Víthor had to press in a little harder.

He slowly dug inch by inch sliding between her spread lips, and his vains gave it an extra stretch.

Freyah sucked in a heavy gasp and pleasurably sighted.

"Almost inside my dear...Uuurrgh!" Vithor said as he pressed further in. His vains was in the perfect position to smear her G-spot.

He finally got completely inside her and his stones blocked her anal.

Both of them moaned, groaned and even growled by the sensation.

Both tongue kissed while Víthor´s body gently thrusting his member inside her and letting the soft parted lips move same direction as more of her juices got out.

"Víth...Don´t ever... let me go! Aaah!" With a deep voice she said.

Víthor began to push a bit harder, his intruder was knocking at her door at the end of her inner walls.

She giggled. He stroked her ribs and reached for her breast with his right hand and gently grabbed it, later on he began to lick her nipple in circles, than he began to nibble them with his dagger sharp teeth:

Freyah wrapped her legs on Víthor´s thighs and pushed him against her. The signs where pretty clear, he went even faster:

His bone glided inside her and out like water bathed with a mix of her fluids and the pre-cum he had leaked into her

groans, wet squirting sounds surrounded the tent as his sack of orbs slamming her exit.

The waterfall suppressed the the loud lustful noises of Freyah releasing her moans and shouted out his name and the tent sounded almost as loud like a bear cave,

if not for the loud waterfall.

Víthor noticed her breathing got heavier, sweat ran all over her body, she leaned backwards the same time she pushed up her hips and took a rough grab on the soft bear pelt she was laying on. She gasped even higher. She was about to climax.

Víthor had no idea what was going on with her, so he got worried and slowed down:

"Is something wrong?" He stopped thrusting and took his time asking, stroking back her ebony coloured hair behind her left ear. She let out a frustrating expression. That feeling when you are just about to go, and then everything stops.

"What´s wrong?" Licking her brow. "I got worried"

She could n´t be mad at the ebony scaled orc-sized lizard laying on top of her.

After all... It was his first time. Most men in his age are experienced with women.

"*sigh* You worry to much." Then she explained a thing or two about women.

" Oh... my deepest apologies... Talos what a fool I am" He felt so ashamed and looked to the other way:

"Hey hey there... Its all right..." She took her hand to his cheek, he looked back at her face and smiled by her voice of pure comfort. Víthor got closer to her red rose lips and took the kiss that she gave away on the side of his snout.

He spread his thighs, parted her lips a second time and continued to thrust his flesh inside her.

She got closer to his ear holes and whispered:

"I love you Víth..." Came from those lips as she pet his horn. Víthor haven't heard those beautiful words in over 15 years. His heart felt even warmer.

A tear ran down from his eye and dripped down on Freyah´s cheek. He got so happy. He just wanted to hold her, and never let go. He was so happy.

He wrapped his strong arms around her smooth body:

"I...I love you too Freyah..." Looking her in the eyes with a pleasurable smile.

" Then show me" And gave him a sucking kiss and began to squeeze her inner walls, making her inside flesh tighter for him.

"Uuhrrgh...yeah...Freyah...you are so good..." Licking her sweaty neck as his length pushed her inside flesh even faster and harder and his veins smearing her G-point as his fluid coated orbs slamming her exit, made those juicy cheeks bounce.

She liked the feeling of his sticky balls slammed her like that, together with his dragon parting her lips even wider as he went harder.

They loved each others pleasurable groans. She hold on to his shoulders with her arms and moved her hips in circular forms, gasping and letting out deep moans. Víthor loved her attractive movements and began to playfully nibble her neck.

She loved it.

"Víth...Mmmh...I'm...almost there...d...don´t...you...stop *gasp*

"I... cannot...ho...hold..much...Gwah!...longer!" A growl came of his teeth.

"Please...don´t leave me now..."

His muscles got harder than steel as he held on, you could see his abs shine pretty clear with all the sweating trough the darker pieces of scales on the centre of his torso.

"Víth...*gasp*...I'm leaving... come with me!" Crying out.

Víthor grinned as he lost total control:

He pressed his hips harder into her and thrust even faster, and felt the sparkle, he rose his tempo even more and finally he rammed her one last time blocking her entrance completely together with Freyah´s strong vibrating legs pressed at Víthors thighs against her as they climaxed together and got lost in their own orgasms:

Víthor leaned backwards and let out an insane growl with his teeth shut seal as he pulsed his thick liquids inside her at the same time she spurted her juices, coating Víthors sack with their mixed fluids.

After the last spurt of seed left his body, the pleasure were slowly dying within his flesh.

After a few quiet breaths, smiles laughing from both faces began to express itself:

" Freyah... that was... heavenly." And gave her a successful kiss on her lips.

" That is how you kiss, right? Grinning at her.

" You are the sweetest Víthor." She pet him behind his jaw spikes. He closed his eyes, lifting his jaw and let out playful groans:

"Huuh...yes...Do me a favour and scratch... Aaah right there."

The big lizard got himself of her and leaving a dirty mess on the upper bear pelts as he pulled out his coated shaft of her: It wobbled like a hung fish while a mix of her liquids and seed was dripping from his tip.

They did n´t wanted to lay and cuddle on a small pile of sperm and juice.

Víthor lifted the pelt, got under and pat the soft side next to him; looking at her with a tired smile.

She slowly crawled to him, laid on her side, pushed her back to his red sweaty chest. It was still pretty warm.

He lifted his arm over her and rested it under her chest and covered their bodies with the warm furry pelt. She loved his warm breathing on her neck:

"We´ll begin journey to Markarth first thing tomorrow." He whispered to her ear.

She turned her head and gave him a lovely goodnight kiss.

"Thank you Vith... for giving me a new purpose to live... " She said while yawning at the end.

"I should be thanking you...*yawn* goodnight...My sweet shadow..."