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"Get out of here, knife-ears." The innkeeper growled. Unconsciously, my hand reached up to the tips of my narrow ears. "We don't want your kind in here. Either of you." I looked back at Tsartia. "We don't want trouble. Just a place to spend the night." The inn was the first place we had entered once coming across the town of Bruma after walking all through the previous day. We were both soaked through and shivering. It was dimly lit, stuffy, but mercifully warm and dry. "Don't care," the innkeeper said. "Outta here, I said. Dealings with Elves have given us nothing but trouble." "Just let me pay for the room, and we'll stay out of your way the rest of the night." His voice rose. "I ain't gonna tell you again. Get outta here before I get Borog to kick your sorry asses out in the rain." There was an Orc, heavy-set and brooding, sat at the end of the bar farthest from the door, mostly in shadow. His narrow eyes glinted in the dim light as he watched us. His fangs jutted up from his lower jaw. The only other patron sat in the corner, a hood drawn over his face, hiding it in shadow. He was hunched over, busy writing something on a sheet of paper, a few more lay stacked neatly to the side. "I'll give you double the room fee. You don't even have to talk to us." "Borog!" The innkeeper turned to the Orc. "Kick these two out!" The Orc in the shadows heaved himself off his stool, using his arms on the counter. He strode towards us with surprising speed. "You heard the man," He growled. He stood a few inches taller than me and was at least double my weight but I stood up to him. "We've been travelling in the wild, this is the first place we've seen in days," I turned back to the barkeeper. "Not even for double the standard cost? We'll go and you won't-" He gave a slight nod to the Orc, who wrapped his meaty hand around my neck. It was almost enough to wrap around it completely. My breath was cut off and I saw pinpricks of light appear immediately. He held me close so his ugly green face filled my vision. Broken fangs jutted up from his upper lip, and the sour smell of rotten mean hit me like a wave when he spoke in a slow, deliberate voice. "When the boss says you gotta go, you go. Take your pet elsewhere." Out of the corner of my eye, I heard Tsartia say, "let go of him." She reached for the arm holding me, and with the other, Borog rudely shoved her away, hard. Hard enough to make her stumble and nearly fall. A flash of rage shot through my body. I pulled the dagger from my belt and with one motion, faster than the Orc could react, it was at his throat. He gripped my neck tighter, I pressed the knife against his throat, a tiny trickle of blood appeared at the tip. "Let go of me before I slit your throat," I said, and it came out a hoarse whisper. I heard the bartender yell, "damn it Bosmer! Should have just left!" The Orc and I stared each other down, neither of us yielding. I could feel the tension in the air growing thicker by the second. Something was going to happen, soon. There came the sound of a chair being pushed back, and the old man I saw in the corner appeared, his back was bent and he shuffled slowly to us. I saw Borog's eye flicker briefly to him, and his grip loosened somewhat. The old man raised himself up to his full height. It seemed to grow brighter in the room, like a window had just been opened. The air suddenly felt sharp, like it does before a thunderstorm, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. He spoke in a quiet, low voice. "Let that one go, Borog-gro-Agrup. He's not worth your time." I heard the bartender mutter, "damn them mages..." under his breath, then louder: "this isn't your business, Rodan." The old man - Rodan - ignored him and laid a gentle hand on the Orcs shoulder. Instantly, the grip around my neck was relaxed and I threw his arm off me. His eyes dropped to the floor and he muttered, "Sorry, Mr. Rillik." I kept my dagger on his neck and my eyes on his. Rodan then turned to me and I could see his face now, he was almost completely bald but for thin wisps of white hair that sprouted out from the sides of his thin, pale scalp. He had the face of one who had seen much during his time, it had been softened by decades of experience. He had pale blue eyes under eyebrows that were sagging at the edges so he looked like he had a permanent expression of sadness on his face. He spoke in a kind, soft voice: "It's best if the two of you leave now, friend. I'm sorry." and I felt a kind of calmness spreading through my body. I put my dagger back into my belt, found Tsartia's hand and held it. Giving a last look at the Orc and innkeeper, I led us out of the tavern. Back out into the rain, which seemed twice as cold after the warmth of the tavern. She looked back at me. "Now what?" She asked. I looked out at the thick sheets of rain that poured down, thick enough to turn the air into a grey blanket. The eaves of the tavern weren't wide enough to cover us, and immediately the rain had soaked us both through again. "I don't know," I said. She closed her eyes tightly, and I saw a tear leaking out of the corners. Not for the first time, I missed my home. I thought of the warm fireplace and the cozy living room. I held her. Her wet, cold fur pressed against my cheek. She held me back tightly. "I wish we could have stayed in your house in Skyrim. Everything would have been so much better if I hadn't messed it all up." I shook my head and I knew she could feel it. "No. We'll figure something else out. We'll find somewhere else to stay, and then we're going to Valenwood, like we said we would." I ran my fingers through the fur on top of her head but couldn't feel it - my pale and wrinkly fingers were completely numb. If we didn't find some shelter soon I'd get frostbite. The behind us creaked open and I spun around, my hand reaching for my dagger. But it was the old man, Rodan. He was holding a notebook, the cover was of dark red leather, and it was stuffed with the sheets of paper I saw on his table. He smiled when he saw us. "I can tell you're new in town, so I'll give you some free advice. The people here aren't very trusting of outsiders. We don't see a lot of Elves here. Or the folk from Elsweyr." He nodded at Tsartia. "If the two of you are passing through, you're not going to get much help from anyone in town. I'm sorry." He looked back and forth between us two. To him, we must have looked pathetic - Tsartia's fur was plastered against her skin, making her face looked misshapen. Her ears and whiskers drooped down. My hair was scraggly and unkempt. Our clothes stuck to our bodies damply. He laid a hand on the doorway, and Tsartia asked, "Are you... a mage?" He paused, then nodded. "Not a very good one, mind you. I can light a candle on fire or calm an angry drunk, but that's about it." "That was a Calm spell you used on me, wasn't it?" I asked. Again the pause and nod. "Yes. I hope I can have your forgiveness, I didn't want it to get bloody." "It's alright," I said. Again he out his hand on the door, meaning to push it open and go in. "You two have been through a lot, haven't you?" he asked without looking around. "We have," Tsartia said. "You probably have a story to tell, don't you?" "You could say that," I said. He heaved a heavy sigh. He looked back and forth between the two of us. "The folk here wouldn't much like it if I was to be seen talking to you, or showing you a bit of hospitality, but..." My heart rose in my chest. "...Well, the two of you are welcome to stay the night at my place, but I'd require payment of some kind." "Of course," I said, "We'll give you whatever the inn would have charged." He shook his head and flicked his hand, as if he could physically wave the question away. "Nah, I haven't been wantin' money for years now. I've enough to last me the rest of m'life." He chuckled. "Now, if I were a Telvanni mage and lived to be a thousand, that'd be different..." I raised my eyebrows at this comment, but said nothing. I'd ask him about it later, if I had a chance. "...but, I've got everything I need (once you see m' house you'll understand.) I spent most of my life collecting money, but those days are over. What I collect nowadays are stories. You two look like you've a good yarn or two to tell about how you ended up here in Bruma. Tell me and consider us even." I could hear the hope in Tsartia's voice. "We'll tell you our story." "You have no idea how much we'd appreciate it," I said. "You really saved us." "Don't you worry about it. I got nothin' better to do. Nobody in this town worth talkin' to anyway. But you two..." "Delrien," I said. Tsartia introduced herself as well. Rodan nodded and said, "ri'" which I guess meant 'right'. "Me house is just down the walk a bit." It came out as jes dewn th' wokkabit. We followed him and passed by a few homes, and at least half of them were boarded up and empty. A few were burned down. "What happened here? Most of the town looks abandoned. "The Thalmor happened. See the temple over there?" He pointed and I squinted. Lifting out of the dense rain was a tall four-spired tower, behind it was a long, low wing. When we got closer I could see it was once a great and beautiful chapel, but was now crumbling in decay. Vines covered the base, and there were long black streaks of ash up the sides. "That's the Chapel of Talos -or that's what it used to be. When the Thalmor forced the empire to ban the worship of Talos, that chapel was abandoned. A lot of the Nords left in protest, up north to Skyrim.. Then there was a fire in the chapel, the Thalmor guards were blamed but of course they denied it. A couple people were killed, more left, and now, here we are. I'd say a bit less than half of the inhabitants of the town remain." He sighed. "But not me. I'm too old to move now." We finally came to his house - it was larger than any I had seen in Bruma - two floors, with a balcony that overlooked the rest of the town. "M'father built it when he came here, 'fore I was born. I raised a coupla kids with a coupla wives in here. They've all gone north, so it's just me here, now." He smiled but it didn't look happy. "If you don't mind me asking, why didn't you go with them?" He didn't answer for a while and I was worried I might have offended him. "I'm not saying I'm not glad you're here, though, I was just wondering - " "Nah, I understand. It's jus' m'house was built by me dad, and I'd hate for it to go to waste, just sit here abandoned. 'sides I always liked this town." He looked around. "Or I used to. I kept waiting for the town to get better, but it just kind of festered. Now it's too late. But that was all a long time ago. And 'ere we are!" He unlocked the front door and I was greeted by a gust of mercifully warm air, that carried with it an old woody smell. There was a living room just inside, with a rather large couch sat in front of a a equally large fireplace in the corner. "You two can get dried off here. Jus' a moment." He knelt before the fireplace and touched the pile of logs lying there. The area under his hand glowed like an ember, flames appeared from his fingers out of nothing and travelled along the wood. A moment later, it was ablaze. Tsartia both looked at each other, a look of amazement on both of our faces. I had seen mages do tricks like that, but I hadn't expected it now. He didn't seem to make anything of it and turned to both of us. "Now, there ain't an easy way to say this, so I'll jus' go ahead an say it - both of you ain't gonna get dry with yer clothes on, so you can just take 'em off and lie by the fire till yer dry. I suspect it'll take a while for you," - he nodded at Tsartia - "with yer fur an' all, so me and yer man can start our talk, and you can join us when yer done." He turned to the stairs, remembered something, and turned back. "Oh, and you'll want something to wear when yer dry. I can get you" (he nodded to me) "somethin' of mine for now, but as for you," he nodded at Tsartia "me second wife left some..." his face scrunched up in concentration. "no, me third. No, me - yeah. Me third. She left a box of 'er clothes under the stairs there. I've been meaning to get rid of it, but if y' find something in there y' like, it's yours. Saves me the trouble of throwing it away." He bustled out of the room, and quickly returned with an armful of clothes for me, plain brown pants and a white shirt. "you can dried off here, an' meet me upstairs, I'll be on the balcony." He looked out the window. "It's a good night for a smoke and a talk. He trundled out of the room, leaving the two of us alone for the moment. I said, "Well, he seems nice. I' don't know what we'd do if we hadn't met him." "Probably out in the rain, feeling sorry for ourselves and wondering where all the brooms are." "Yeah, it's... what? Brooms?" She had that look she wore when she tried not to laugh. Her eyes narrowed slightly and her ears pivoted back. "Oh. Bruma." I shook my head. "You're terrible." "Do you think that's why they named-" "No, of course not," and I knew she could see I was trying not to smile. She started to unbutton my shirt for me. "If you didn't think I was funny you wouldn't smile when I say things like that." She pulled it off my arms and I stepped out of my pants. "It's only because you're so cute." And that made her smile. I held her shoulders and kissed her. "Come up when you're dry." She slipped out of her dress and draped it over the chair by the fire. She lied on the stone hearth naked, her back facing me. The gentle rise and fall of her hips were caught by the light of the fire, her tail was draped along her leg like a sheet. She looked back at me, her eyes just over the curve of her shoulder and heavily-lidded gaze obvious lust in her oval slits of her feline eyes. "What should we do when we come back down?" she asked in a musical voice, exaggerated tone. "Well, now I don't want to leave," and I knelt next to her and ran my palm down her cool, wet fur. Along the side of her waist, moving down her legs. She smiled. "Go on, I'll be up when I'm dry. There will be plenty of time for that later." She winked. It wasn't long before I was dry. I slipped into the clothes Rodan lent me, kissed my Khajiit goodbye, and went upstairs. There was a small but cluttered bedroom, and out on the balcony, I could see the old man sitting on a rocking chair. I sat down on another next to him. I watched as he filled his pipe. "Do you smoke?" he asked. I shook my head. "'tsall good anyway. Only got the one pipe." He stuck out a single finger, and a flame appeared at the end, he lit the pipe and he flicked his hand the way you'd extinguish a match. "I wish I could do that," I said. "It'd make starting fires a lot easier." He looked up at me. "No? You've got no Magicka in ye?" "No, nothing." I looked at my hands, flexed my fingers. I imagined flames running up them (how he did that without burning himself, I'll never know) He settled back in his chair with the sigh of satisfaction that only a man his age could muster. "Nah, most people don't. And I don't have much, as I said. It's not as useful as you might expect." "But earlier you mentioned something about being a sorcerer and living to be a thousand. What did you mean by that?" He frowned and his eyes lowered in concentration. "Ah! Well, I was just talkin' about this one Dunmer that lives in Morrowind, one of the Telvanni. Davath something-or-other. Divith. Davath? Divayth... Fyr! From what I heard," he took a drag on his pipe and blew smoke through his nostrils, the smoke billowing out like the clouds beyond the balcony. "He's a very powerful and very old wizard. They say he's managed to extend his lifespan almost indefinitely. I don't know if I believe 'em, though." "Do you know how old, exactly? I've never heard of him." "Well, Dunmer normally live.. I'd say two, three hundred? Same as yourself, I'd say? Eh?" I nodded. "I'm fifty-four, actually." "Fifty-four! By the nine, you're almost as old as me! He slapped his leg. "But you don't look a day over twenty-five." I nodded. "But old Davath is something around four thousand, so they say." He saw the look of surprise on my face. "...but 'e's one of the most powerful mage alive. Beyond my abilities. I know I'm gettin' old, but I don' need to live forever, if that's why yer wondering. I've done what I wanted in life." "Oh, I didn't mean you," and I fumbled, knowing I didn't know what to say. "I was thinking for someone else." and I motioned below us. "Her." I said quietly. He looked down for a second. Then a look of understanding came over his face. "Ah. I'm guessing their lifespan isn't as much as yours?" "Even less than yours, I think. " "Well, it's always possible she's got some latent Magicka hiddin' with 'er. 'as she ever been tested?" "No, not as far as I know. But wouldn't she have figured it out by now?" "Nah, it can sometimes lie dormant for years, decades, 'specially if 'er birthsign's an Atronach. And they don't know they have this power till something triggers it and they accidentally set their house on fire or something. Do you know if she's an Atronach?" I tried to remember if she ever told me and couldn't. "She never told me." "Well, when she does, make sure you remember. Women don't like it when you forget!" He pointed at me with the stub of the pipe and I noticed it had gone out. He looked at it but didn't re-light it. "But it's beyond most people, for sure. Maybe someone's put it into a potion. you can ask an alchemist if they know anything." An alchemist. A single name passed through my mind. Anwel. If she knew anything, she'd tell me. I nodded slowly. She was already on her way to Valenwood, to she'd say she always stops at that pub in Arenthia. Just another reason to go to there. The question would be how to find her. But we'd deal with that later. I looked up at Rodan. He was looking past me deep in thought, lightly tapping the pipe against his teeth, making tip-tip-tip sounds. "You don't think all this is weird?" I ventured. "A Khajiit and a Bosmer, together?" He shook his head. "Nah, it ain't none of my business to judge. Myself, I've had quite a few women in my life, and I may have even accidentally made love to an Argonian once." I laughed. "How do you accidentally make love to someone?" "Well, I knew I was with someone, I just didn't know what it was. It was dark. She might have just been very old. She just had that voice, you know?" "No, I don't," I admitted. "Anyway, what I mean to say is, it don't matter what kind of skin she's wearing. What you've got is special, I think." I nodded. "Now that I think of it..." I though back and counted the days on my fingers. "It's been a only week since we've met. Gods, it feels like so much longer. It seems like we know each other pretty well, even if we haven't known each other for that long. Do you know what I mean?" "Yep, that's what it feels like when yer with the right person. Me first wife was like that." He sucked on the pipe that had long since gone out. The sun was resting on the tips of the tree-topped hills in the west. The rain had finally stopped, but the clouds remained, and they were streaked with orange like some messy napkin. Rodan spoke up."So, let's start from the beginning. Tell me yer story." I told him, starting from when I met Tsartia and we were both captured. The entire time, he stayed mostly silent, occasionally asking for more detail. He kept his pipe in his teeth, not bothering to light it. I watched as the sun sank further to the horizon, turning the clouds from orange to red, then deep maroon, and the stars came out twinkling one by one. "And it turned out, that bastard Felcrothen was the one who burned it down. Last I heard he was headed south. The thing is, I may have accidentally let it slip to him where I used to live." "Why'd you do that?" he asked. "It's kind of hard to explain. I was just boasting, I guess, after I thought he was defeated. I regret it now. The thing is, " and I spoke in a low voice, though Tsartia was still downstairs "I want to stop him before he gets to Greenheart. This time, permanently." His eyes shrewdly peered out from under the shadow. "Is that the only reason?" I tapped my fingers against my knees impatiently. "To tell the truth, no. I don't know why, but I feel drawn to go after him. Part of me thinks it's to protect my family if he ever goes to my home town of Greenheart, but another part thinks I just want revenge. For hurting Tsartia and burning my house. I think I just want to be rid of him. I didn't kill him when I had the chance, and I payed for it." I heard Tsartia come up the stairs and I finished quickly: "I don't think I've seen the last of him. Something tells me we're going to meet again." Rodan started to say something but stopped when Tsartia came out onto the balcony. She was wearing a plain cream-coloured dress she must have found in the box Rodan had told her about. She was also wearing a look on her face I had seen only once before: it was the one she was wearing when we were in Dragon Bridge, when she suggested we drink and we ended up sharing our first kiss. The look of secretly planning something. And I think I knew what it was. She gave me a sly wink, and the corners of her mouth twitched in a smile she was trying to suppress. I raised my eyebrows at her, and she just shook her head, her smile widening. Suddenly I wanted to finish the story quickly. "At some point we got separated, and me and Tsartia wandered until we found Bruma and we went to the first inn we saw, and you know the rest." He was silent and still for a long while, but I could see the twinkling in his eyes moving in the shadow. Finally he broke the silence. "Aye, it's a good tale. But not yet done, I think." I looked at Tsartia. "Not yet, I hope." He looked out at the stars. "Well, it's time for me to go to bed. You two can make yourselves comfortable on the couch downstairs. G'night, and I'll see you in the mornin'" We thanked him again and went downstairs. When we were out of earshot, I asked Tsartia, "So what are you planning on doing? I know that look." She looked at me with her I-have-a-secret-and-I-know-you'll-like-it look. "Just sit back on the couch and I'll show you." I did as she asked and she stood in front of the fireplace, which was still burning merrily. She undid the buttons on the cream-coloured dress, one-by-one, deliberately slowly. I knew she was watching me but I didn't exactly keep my eyes on hers. She undid the last button and let the dress flutter down and land in a loose heap by her feet. I looked up at her and for a second I just stared, wide-eyed, and my jaw literally dropped. She was wearing another, much shorter dress, one that stopped mid-way past her thighs. It had no sleeves, and the ends of the shoulders and waist were trimmed with black lace. There was a slit that ran from the collar just in front of her shoulder and ran to the waist. A narrow wedge of her fur peeked through. It was made of a material so thin it was almost transparent and I could tell she was wearing nothing underneath. When she stepped in front of the fireplace, the warm glow lit her from behind, bathing her in gold. It masked her shapely body in shadow but hinted the gentle contours of her slim figure. The slight outward bulge of her breasts that just barely caught the light, enough to tease at their presence but not show them off. I could tell she was aroused as much as me - her nipples poked the thin material forward, stretching the material taut. The dress flowed over the beautiful and subtle curve that defined her narrow waist and hips. She was barefoot as usual, and walked slowly towards me, exaggerating the side-to-side sway of her hips, her tail swishing back and forth slowly. "I found it in the box of clothes Rodan gave me. Do you like it?" She gave a cute little spin, the motion made the dress fling outwards, then wrapped around her body, hugging her shapely frame. The slit along the side spread open, giving me a peek at a long leg and and a glimpse of her shapely butt. I thought it was far more erotic than simply seeing her naked. I closed my mouth. "I love it," I said, and it was the truth. I started to get up. She lightly but firmly pushed me back on the couch. "You stay there." She put her hands on my shoulders and moved onto the couch with me so she was straddling my lap. The silver and green necklace I had given her swung free of the low collar of the dress, and the light glinted off the green glass set in the centre of the narrow spiked frame. She moved her hands from my shoulder, delicately trailing her fingers across my collar, up my neck until they were both covering my cheeks. She held my head like this, and slowly moved her face to mine. Individual strands of fur stood out in the glow of the fire, and her whiskers looked like the trails of shooting stars. The tufts on the tips of her ears were like the foam from a wave-crest. She kissed me, and rocked her hips up and down on my crotch. I knew she could feel the growing erection under her from the smile spreading across her lips. Our kiss broke and she lifted up the shirt I was wearing up and over my head. She gently pushed me down on the couch and leaned over me, leaving a trail of cold wet kisses down my chest to my waist. She stopped, straightened up, lifted the dress up over her head and tossed it away. "It's just going to get in the way," she said. Now naked, the firelight bathed her in fire, showing off what it had previously hinted at. The side facing the fire glowed, each strand of fur like a spark from a blacksmith's fire. The pants Rodan lent me had no belt, so she did something that surprised me: she took the waistband in her feline fangs and with a long, low purr that sounded more like a growl she pulled them down and off my legs. She tossed them on the floor. "You're so much faster at taking my pants off than I am," I remarked. With typical feline grace, the naked Khajiit hopped up on the couch with both her knees on either side of my waist. Straddling me like this, she leaned down until her face was close to mine. "That's because I get more fun out of what's under them," she purred. "I doubt it," I said between kisses. Still straddling me, she got on all fours, keeping her ass raised up (her tail swishing back and forth in eagerness) pushed herself back and lowered herself down until her breasts rested on either side of my cock. The warm, pliable weight of them hugged and massaged it. She slid forward, caressing my cock with her breasts, and moved back and forth, rubbing it against the fur on her chest. Her fur was softer than I remember almost fluffy, from being wet and drying by the fire. When the tips of each strand caressed my skin, it was so soft it was barely there at all, like a faintly heard whisper. It wasn't long at all until the tip started to ooze precum. She bent down and licked it clean, and began pleasuring me with her mouth. She used the top of her tongue at first, which was covered in tiny bumps almost like spines. But they were soft and pliable, and caressed luxuriously over my shaft. Then she turned her tongue over and used the slick and smooth underside. My hands gripped the cushions of the couch and I let out a whoosh of a groan. It wasn't long at all before it was wet with her saliva and my own fluids. She slid forward again, and this time didn't rock back, but continued forward, dragging her breasts across my chest until her face reach mine, and locked our mouths together in a passionate kiss. Her whiskers tickled my cheeks and the fur lining her mouth caressed my lips. She rocked her hips slowly back and forth, rubbing herself along the length of my penis and leaving a trail of wetness along the underside of it. I could feel the bulb of her clitoris rubbing against the underside of my penis, and audibly sensed the pleasure it gave her, her with a sharp intake of air, and the soft, low exhale. Her muscular thighs held her up, and they flexed as she rubbed herself back and forth. My eyes trailed up them, seeing the not-quite-symmetrical grey stripes against her brown fur as her thighs slid past my own. Where her legs met, there was a tuft of lighter fur, the ends of which were matted down, damp with fluids. Below it, constantly moving, were the outer lips of her pussy as they caressed the sides of my penis as she slid back and forth along the length. Savouring the view, I trailed my eyes up past the tight knots of muscles of her stomach to her chest, where her fur was a shade lighter. Her hands were covering both her breasts, and she rubbed them up and down, lifting her breasts up, and while her hands moved down, the slid underneath them, eliciting a soft gasp of pleasure whenever her nipples rubbed against her palms. Her eyes were tightly shut, and mouth parted just enough I could see the white of her teeth. She moved like this, pleasuring both of us. I could feel the her clitoris rubbing against me, and could hear how much it was pleasuring her, she was letting out a series of fluttery moans. She lowered herself so that she was holding herself up on all fours, her hands on my shoulders. She started moving her hips side-to-side while rocking back and forth, spiralling around my cock. I could feel the flex of her thighs as she moved back and forth, tightening and relaxing. Listening to her, and seeing how much it pleasured her, was getting me more and more aroused by the second, but the feeling wasn't enough to really satisfy me and I could tell she was eager for more. "You're going slow to tease me on purpose, aren't you?" I whispered. "Of course not, that'd be mean." She gave me a sly look that told me everything I needed to know. She dropped down and almost violently kissed me. Her hands strayed to the back of my head and pushed it towards her own. We made out fiercely, our tongues in each others mouths. Hers was flatter and smaller than mine, but far more mobile. I felt the hundreds of tiny bumps along it as it danced around in my mouth. Our faces moved apart and she licked her lips, as if trying to get another taste of my mouth. "Okay. No more teasing," she whispered. She reached back and I felt the grip of her furred hand on my cock. I felt it being raised up, and then the wet sensation of the outer lips of her pussy wrap around the head. There was a moment of readjusting while she leaned forward and got everything lined up, then she slowly pushed back on my cock, there was a moment of resistance where she held her lower lip in her teeth, tightly shut her eyes, then the head of my penis popped inside her, and she let out a long, slow breath of pleasure. Her free hand squeezed into my shoulder, her claws tiny pinpricks on my skin. She held this position for a moment, while we kissed. And her tightness embraced me, her tightly gripping outer lips relaxed, allowing me to slip in an inch. She slowly moved back, and angled her hips down, and the shaft of my penis slid into her, sliding deeper into her. The ribbed texture of her insides massaged my cock and I felt it give way, inch by inch, her hot, wet insides enveloping me completely, wrapping around my shaft in a tight embrace. She moved back farther and until her hips met mine. I looked down and was greeted by the sight of my beautiful Khajiit on top of me, fully penetrated by my cock. She let out a low mmmmm and wiggled her hips slightly causing me to let out a grunt of my own and squeeze her thighs involuntarily. She leaned forward until our chests almost touched and started rocking back and forth as before, now not just rubbing against me but fully impaled on my penis. The slick, warm entrance massaged my penis, rubbing it up and down. Whenever she lifted herself up, the muscles inside her tightened around my shaft, which then relaxed as she let herself fall back down. Her hands moved to the back of my head and her nails caressed my scalp in a way that sent shivers down my body. I started thrusting upwards, timing my movements to hers, but she stopped me with her hands on my waist. "No, let me do it." She straightened up until she was sitting upright, straddling my waist and I could feel the muscles in her insides tighten around me. Her pace increased, and she started moving up and down. The angled changed on my cock, the sensitive head now rubbed with greater pressure along the inside of her. Her claws dug into my skin, and I knew she felt the difference too. Her tail was flicking back and forth, in a way I was sure was unconscious. With my hands free, I let them run up her thighs, feeling her fur, smooth as glass, soft as silk, running though my fingers. My hands found her rump and I squeezed it, which made her give a cute "hmm!" of surprise. They ran up her butt and when they passed over the small of her back, just above her tail, she gave a deep purr and tensed up. I ran my hands down over that area again and she gave the same reaction. "Do you like it when I rub that?" "Yes, it's..." she bit her lip and moaned softly. "...a sensitive area." I grinned and rubbed my fingers into it, massaging the area. I was rewarded with a drawn-out exhale from her, a sign that I was doing something right. Her internal muscles clamped around me, forcing a gasp of my own out of me. She started moving faster, and began panting heavily, either from fatigue, or pleasure. Or both. "Are you getting tired?" "Yes," she gasped, barely making the words out. "but I can't stop now." She leaned down until our chests touched, and her face was next to mine. Her furred cheek rubbed against mine, and her whiskers tickled my mouth. I could smell the exotic spiciness of her scent, mixed with the smoky mustiness of the room. My fingers ran through the short fur on her back, feeling the tight muscles just underneath the skin. I held my arms around her between the narrow cleft of her shoulder blades and my hand on the back of her head. She rocked back and forth on my cock and as she did so, she twisted and gyrated her hips, making me feel all the different angles of penetration. "Mmm, Del, you feel so good," she moaned. Her hand was rubbing her own crotch now, and I got to watch as she pleasured herself, rubbing her clitoris with a finger as she rode me. I think the sensation of being in control was turning her on. She was getting wetter with every passing minute, her slick fluids coated my shaft. The decrease in friction would have lessened the sensation had she not been increasing her pace, and she must have been getting close to the climax of her own because I felt the walls of her pussy tighten around me. The feeling of her rocking up and down was slowly driving me closer and closer to the brink of orgasm, too. She didn't move as fast as I did when I was on top, but the view, and the fact that she was turned on by being in control, aroused me more. It wasn't long after that I felt the familiar feeling of pressure in my balls, the sign of my onrushing orgasm. But with her in control, I couldn't slow down. "Tsartia, I''m going to cum if you don't slow down." "Good," was her response. Her face was buried in my shoulder and I heard her muffled "cum inside me." That's all I needed. I felt (and I know she felt it to) my cock twitch, and with an involuntary thrust upward, I came deep inside her, my cock pulsating with each spurt that matched the waves of pleasure that spread through my body, spreading like warmth from a fire after a cold day. I filled her with enough cum that some seeped outside and pooled on my own crotch. She kept rocking up and down on me, slowly now and rubbing herself with her finger furiously. Just after mine debated, she was wracked with the convulsions of the own orgasm. She kept her eyes tightly shut, now rubbing her pussy back and forth with all her fingers while I was still inside her. Her head thrust back, she let out a long, soft cry that was neither a purr nor a moan but something in between. Her legs were shaking, and I could see her toes curling towards the pads of her feet. She collapsed on top of me with her head on my shoulder, legs twitching. Her body rose and fell with every breath I took. The only sound was the wind whistling though our noses. I smiled because even her breathing sounded cute, a quiet kind of whistling through her small feline nostrils. The fire had finally burned low, and it crackled quietly now as the logs became embers. Tsartia put her head on my shoulder and together our breathing became slow and regular.

We set out in the morning and said goodbye to Rodan, after thanking him again for his hospitality. While I was gathering my gear, I heard him called Tsartia over and talk to her privately. I couldn't hear what they said, but I did see his lips form the word "magic" more than once. The second time, Tsartia's eyes and ears lit up and her mouth spread into a grin. Then he called me over and to both of us, he said, "Now if the two of you are lookin' for adventure, there's a cave not far from here, and on the way of yer path. If y'follow the road south, there's a little river that crosses the path, and a bridge. Follow the river..." he looked up, concentrating. "...west, and y'should reach the cave in about an hour. It goes into the hills a bit. Las' I heard it's been abandoned, but you should be careful anyway. There's a boulder tha's cracked in half near the entrance, if you know what to look for, you can't miss it. When I was a lot younger, I want exploring there. Nearly didn't escape. But you look like you can handle it." I smiled. "Thanks, but we'd rather not risk it. I think we'll be okay." He nodded. "Remember t' come back when yer story's over. There's always a place for you if you happen to pass by." We walked for the rest of the day, following the Orange Road west and south. It lead steadily downwards as we left the mountains that bordered Cyrodiil and Skyrim, and the air grew warmer. We made camp just off the trail, there was a shallow valley between two hills that would offer us some protection from the wind. I went hunting while Tsartia gathered wood, and when I came back with a rabbit, she had set up the fire and it was blazing. After we ate, we sat together (I, propped up against a boulder and her on my lap) and watched the fire burn down. "What did Rodan tell you when we left? It looked like it made you excited." She took a while to answer. "I asked him about his magic and how he first discovered it. He said he accidentally started a fire when he was younger. They had him tested, and found he had some magical ability. He said sometimes you can have it in you without knowing. I remember talking about this with Dar-Jei. We'd fantasize about using magic to escape but of course we didn't have any." "With who?" I asked. "Dar-Jei. The Argonian maid who worked in the compound where I was. Do you remember I mentioned her a few days ago, when we left Solitude?" I thought back to a couple of days ago. When we left Solitude, I had asked her if she'd ever been with anyone else and she said she hadn't, at least not with a male. "I do remember now! I had forgotten about it, after everything that happened after." "Do you want to know what happened between us?" "You know I do," I said, excited. She got off my lap and sat cross-legged in front of me. "Okay. I'll tell you about our first time together," "There were multiple times?" I asked, wide-eyed. She smiled. "Quite a few. But just listen. It's a long story and I don't want to be interrupted." "I won't." "Alright." She took awhile to gather her thoughts, weaving her hands together. Her tail flicked around. "It was when I was younger. At an age when I had first started having feelings for some of the male Khajiit in the compound. I knew how everything worked, by then. But I hadn't done anything. Besides with myself." She looked up at me and winked. I fought the urge to say something. "This maid, I had seen her in the compound. She was a servant too, but she was allowed to move around among the different buildings, even the Master's house. She was a bit older than me, and I had known her for as long as I remembered. She was the closest thing I had to a friend there. One day

Tsartia woke suddenly, startled by a noise. She lifted her head up and saw her mother still asleep in the cot on the other side of the cell. Tsartia slowly looked around, still in that half-asleep grey world between consciousness and sleep. She wondered if she had dreamed the sound that woke her. There was someone standing at the door to her cell. She blinked and straightened, ready to spring to attention if she saw one of her Dunmer masters there, waiting on the lazy Khajiit to get up. Instead she saw her old friend Dar-Jei, the Argonian maid she had seen in the compound. She was a bit taller than Tsartia, who had only recently reached her full height. Her scaley triangular head was rimmed in crimson feathers and a few stubby horns stuck out the crown of her skull. Jagged-looking markings, the same deep red as her feathers, ran up from her chin and around her eyes. They contrasted with the dull green scales covering the rest of her body, giving her a fierce, wild look. "Tsartia," She hissed. "Come out of here. I need your help." Her voice had a pleading quality in it, almost hidden in the ragged, deep voice Argonian's always seemed to have. She pulled a ring of keys from her belt, jingling like a chain. She unlocked the door with a click and swung it open. "Quickly." Tsartia looked at the form of her mother, who still hadn't moved. Tsartia could see the slow, even rise and fall of her blanket. She had been sleeping heavily recently, Tsartia worried she might be getting sick. The young Khajiit tossed the ragged blanket off herself and crept outside the cell. "What is it?" She asked. Once outside her cell, Dar-Jei swung it shut with a click. She turned to Tsartia and whispered. "I know you don't owe me anything, but I need a favour, and I think you're the only one who'd be willing to help me." She spoke quickly, her eyes were wide with worry. "If you don't want to, I understand, only I don't have much time and if I don't-" Tsartia silence her with a finger on her snout. "What is it you need?" "Master Selvar gave me a task yesterday but I forgot until now - if he wakes up tomorrow and finds I didn't do it... it'll be like what he did to Talen-Mars." Tsartia shuddered. Talen-Mars was caught trying to escape a few months ago. Master Selvar was the one who caught him and brought him back to a place he called The Correction Room. He was eventually released from there, but after that, he didn't try to escape again. Nobody did. Everyone, including Tsartia, had felt the sting of Selvar's whip at least once. He was universally hated in the compound, a fact he was probably proud of. "I was supposed to clean the bathhouse yesterday but I forgot. Selvar likes to have his morning bath right at sunrise, and I don't think I can finish in time by myself. Can you help me?" The bathhouse was located in the Master's House, a mansion that dominated the center of the compound. Slaves were, as a rule, not allowed in, but servants were. Tsartia frowned, but nodded. Hopefully she'd get something out of this deal to make up for her lost sleep. "Okay, I'll help. But we can't take too long, someone might notice me missing. If we're caught, we're going to get in trouble." Dar-Jei jumped forward and wrapped her friend in a hug. "Thank you so much," She said into Tsartia's neck fur. "I promise I'll pay you back somehow. And we won't get caught. It's too early for anyone else to be up." The two of them tiptoed past the rows of locked cells and (through another door Dar-Jei unlocked) out of the building. The sun had set many hours ago, but the moons were out, and by their light, the two followed the path towards the Master's House. "What time is it?" Tsartia asked. "A few hours till dawn. We should finish in time if we work together."

"When are we going to get to the good part?" I asked. "I'm setting it up. That's the way stories are told. And I said no interrupting. Be patient."

The Master's house was a proper mansion - three floors, each with balconies, curved buttresses and pillars holding up walls made of brown-beige masonry. curved (parapets, sloping roofs and two spires - it overlooked the compound and stood in the center of the saltrice fields. Dar-Jei fumbled with her key ring, found the right one, and let them in. Inside was dark, and Dar-Jei had to run her scaley fingers along the walls to follow the hallway in the blackness. Tsartia, meanwhile could see fine - her feline eyes adjusting to the dark easily. Soon there came the sound of flowing water, echoing through the stone corridor. They rounded a corner and came into a large underground room. The air was damp, and sweet-smelling perfumes permeated the room. Tsartia's sensitive nose could pick up lavender and heather. It was dark in here, but Dar-Jei seemed to know where everything was. She lit some of the candles that lined the room, as well as a few torches that stood in sconces on the floor. Water flowed from a curved pipe over the living rock and formed a waterfall that splashed into a rectangular pool which dominated the center of the room. Steam rose from the waterfall, heated from the underground volcanic vent that ran north from Red Mountain. Scattered around the edge of the pool were baskets filled with bricks of soap, dyed various mild colours and presumably perfumed as well. Blue and white tiles covered the floors, arranged in patterns, and along the walls, murals made of coloured stones set in the brickwork - it took the young Khajiit a second to recognize the subjects of the pictures-all elves, all completely nude and anatomically accurate. They were engaged in various frivolous activities. Mostly couples, but more than a few groups of up to half a dozen. Tsartia looked at them under her eyes. One in particular caught her attention - a Bosmer male coming up from behind a female, her eyes were closed, her head tilted back onto his shoulder, mouth partly open. He had her earlobe in his front teeth, and an unmistakable look of seduction in his eyes. one hand was covering her left breast, the other went down past her navel, but the mural stopped before that part was shown - leaving it up to Tsartia's imagination. She wondered what it felt like, having someone come up behind her, his chest pressed against her back, a nibble on her ear (she shivered) letting his hand work its way down, giving herself to him while he took what he wanted from her. "Are the walls distracting you?" The voice of her friend snapped her back. "Oh. I was just- I don't know." She looked down at her feet. She would have blushed if she could. Dar-Jei gave a low, throaty chuckle that sounded like rattling coins. "It's okay. They're made for looking at. Usually I come here alone, so it's a lot more fun." That made her raise her eyebrows but she said nothing. They went to work on the pipework which ran along the walls (which didn't seem at all dirty to Tsartia) - they rubbed the brass with rags covered in polish - some sort of ashy gummy stuff that smelled sour, and stuck to her fur - until she could see her own reflection. The two friends talked: they complained about work, imagined scenarios where Master Selvar would find his death in increasingly unlikely and hilarious ways. ("He should be eaten by a Guar, then the Guar should be eaten by a dragon," Tsartia said and they both laughed.) The room was hot and humid, and it wasn't long before Tsartia was panting with the effort. But for her, it was one of the most enjoyable times she had ever spent on the compound - it seemed to her of what it must be like to be free and work for a living, to be able to choose when to stop. She wondered if she'd ever get a chance to do it for real. After an hour or so of this, they sat in the edge of the pool with their feet in the water, and talked about what they would do if they ever escaped or were set free. "I'd want to go to the Black Marsh, see where my people came from," Dar-Jei said. "See the Hist, and swim between the islands in the south. What about you?" Tsartia swished her feet in the water, watching the little whirlpools that formed between them, and how the fur on her legs swept up and down. "I want to learn about the world. Not anything specifically. I want to travel to each province, and explore every corner of Tamriel." Then she laughed. "Well, I know I won't be able to do all that. I just want to see Elsweyr, I've talked to some of the other Khajiiti here, the ones that were from there. The way they describe it makes me feel almost homesick, even though I've never even been there. I guess this is my home. "But really, just leaving here would be nice. Being able to sleep whenever I wanted. Being able to eat whenever I wanted." She couldn't help the bitterness from showing in her voice. "We've been living here our whole lives, and for what? So some Dark Elf king can get rich and fat off our work, while we only get enough food to keep working another day? It's not fair." Dar-Jei put down the rag she was using to polish a faucet handle. She embraced her friend and held her. Slowly running her hands down her friend's back, underneath her shirt. "I know it's not fair. But what choice do we have? We can't escape. The best thing we can do is work hard and hope for a better life in the next one." Tsartia squeezed her eyes shut to prevent the flow of tears she felt from spilling over. "That's not good enough." Dar-Jei kissed her friend on the top of her furred head, right between the spot where to patches of darker fur met. "I think we've done enough to satisfy Selvar. Let's get cleaned up and I can take you back." She pulled her hands from her friend's back and Tsartia felt a pinprick of pain as some of the fur was torn out - the polish from Dar-Jei's hands had stuck to her fur. "Ah... sorry," Dar-Jei said. "That's going to be hard to get out." She looked to the pool and said, "Well, we might as well use the bath if we're here." She hopped up and started to strip off her clothes. Tsartia paused before joining her. Being nude around others was nothing new to her, the slaves often had to strip and bathe themselves in a communal bath (separated by gender, and one not nearly as nice as this one) but this time was different. For one, the two of them were alone, and The Argonian was watching her. Tsartia quickly stripped off her clothes and tossed them on the floor. Naked, they both stepped into the flowing water. It was perfectly warm, and the gently moving current massaged her sore muscles in just the way she needed. She let out a little sigh of relief. She tried to work the polish out from her own back but had little success - it kept sticking to the fur on her fingers. Dar-Jei, meanwhile, splashed over to where the pipe flowed water into the pool and stood underneath the waterfall it made, her eyes closed. Tsartia snuck a look at her friend - green scales covered her body- they grew thicker along her knees, elbows and shoulders. They grew smaller along her belly so they looked almost like skin, especially around her breasts. Tsartia found herself wondering what that part would feel like. Small, barely noticeable nipples protruded from them. A little trail of darker scales led from her shoulders, around and under her breasts where they looked like shadows underneath them, and down the sides of her waist, to her hips and and what was underneath was underwater, obscured by the foam caused by the splashing water streaming down her body. Her reflection was an upside-down Argonian, distorted by the water, waving like a flag in the wind. She opened her eyes and saw Tsartia watching her. "What is it?" She asked. "Um, nothing." She looked at the blob of polish on her fingers. "I can get that for you, if you can't reach," and without waiting for an answer, Dar-Jei waded over to Tsartia and stood behind her. She grabbed one of the bars of soap along the pool's edge started rubbing Tsartia's lower back down, splashing soapy water onto her fur and massaging out the polish. It slid smoothly off the Argonian's scales without sticking, and was carried away by the gently moving current. Tsartia closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of the warm water flowing over her back, and the Argonian's firm, strong hands firmly massaging her lower back. This had always been a sensitive spot for her - although, Tsartia considered, when she was in the right mood, practically everywhere on her body could become a sensitive spot. "Just let me know if I go too hard," Dar-Jei said. "No, it's fine." Don't stop she added in her head. She opened her eyes and saw the Bosmer mural again. There was something about the way the woman looked so relaxed, so serene, and willing to give herself up for the man behind him. Tsartia felt something stir within her. Jealousy? That was close, but not right. Longing would be a better word. She stared at the picture while the water lapped at her body and her back was tenderly massaged. Soon a familiar warmth started to spread from her, one which had nothing to do with the temperature of the water. A warmth that rose from her crotch, and spread upward to her chest. Wherever the Argonian touched, the same warmth would spread and leave little tendrils of sensitive flesh in its wake. And the Argonian's hands did move. A moan almost escaped her mouth and Tsartia clamped down on her own lips to stop it. Dar-Jei's hands stopped. "It's all out, now." She sighed. "But we might as well get the rest of you clean while we're here. You think?" Tsartia cleared her throat, trying to sound normal. "You might as well keep going, if you don't mind," she said, trying to act casual. The Argonian ran her fingers, slippery with soap, into the fur and along her skin, stopping just short of the tuft of lighter fur that rested above Tsartia's crotch. Dar-Jei's hands worked expertly, working the suds into her fur, soaping her firm, round buttocks. Tsartia's hands curled into claws, scraping against the tiles of the pool where they rested. "I don't mind at all," she said. "It's better if someone else does it." This is wrong! She thought. She shouldn't be thinking of her friend (her female friend) this way - they weren't even the same species. Tsartia held her breath as the Argonian's fingers ran up her belly towards her breasts, then let it out in a rush when they ran over her hard and very sensitive nipples. Tsartia's mind raced. Did Dar-Jei realize how much she was arousing her friend? Maybe she was doing it on purpose. Or maybe it was all in her imagination, she was just washing her, after all. She probably did this all the time. Tsartia didn't complain, or indeed mind at all. It had been days since she was alone, and could take care of her body's urges, which sometimes seemed to scream at her for attention She would have been able to take care of it, had she ever had the chance to be alone, but she almost never was. So she kept silent, closed her eyes and let herself give into the pleasure, the way one gives herself into sleep. She didn't stop the Argonian's hand as it trailed from Tsartia's belly, parting the wet, warm fur, through her crotch-tuft, and touched the sensitive tissue of her clitoris. Tsartia gasped and tightened up, "W-what are you doing?" Dar-Jei's hand stopped moving down, but didn't retract. "Paying you back," she whispered in her ear. "Unless you want me to stop?" Tsartia blurted out a no before she even knew why. "I didn't think so." Her hand moved down until it covered Tsartia's crotch, and her middle finger curled inward, slowly rubbing back and forth across her most intimate and sensitive area. Tsartia let out her breath in a long, slow whoosh that wasn't quite a moan, rather an expression of pure relaxation mixed with delicious pleasure. Dar-Jei tossed the bar of soap onto the floor. Now she had lost all pretense of cleaning, and was now only pleasuring her friend. Her other hand snaked up and cupped Tsartia's breast and the Khajiit's knees almost buckled when the cool Argonian's hands rubbed over her sensitive nipple. She stuck out a hand to steady herself, and her hand struck the torch sconce she had placed near the edge of the pool. Both of them reached out to grab it, Dar-Jei leaning over Tsartia, but it rolled away, extinguishing itself in the wet floor - leaving them very close in semi-darkness, the room only lit by the candles along the walls. While she waited for her eyes to adjust, she was intensely aware of the naked Argonian in front of her - so close they were almost touching. Without her sight, her other senses became heightened- the sweet smell of ginseng rose to meet her nostrils, one she'd always liked. For the moment there was nothing but the sweet smell and musical notes of the waterfall, a steady, deep hum of the water coursing through the pipes that reminded her of the beating heart of a vast mechanical beast. It lulled and relaxed her like it was soothing her to sleep. Dar-Jei weaved her hands around Tsartia's waist, cupping the Khajiit's buttocks with her palms. Their chests stopped a fraction of an inch apart. Tsartia could feel the cool air of her friends breath. It was Tsartia that moved forward, and when the cool, wet scales of her friend touched Tsartia's breasts, it gave a sensation she had never felt before - not like this. This time it wasn't her own hands pleasuring herself, but the erotic, naked body of someone else, someone she knew and trusted. Someone who smelled like lust and felt like raw sexual energy. And suddenly it didn't matter whether the person in front of her was Argonian or Khajiit, male or female. What mattered was the burning desire in her own body, one that begged for release, louder than the rational part of her mind could drown out. She tilted her head up just enough that their lips met, and embraced her friend in a kiss - her first. The fact that it was with another female was easy to ignore, like a whisper lost in a windstorm. It was wrong, she knew, but exciting at the same time- exciting because it was wrong. She was glad of the dark - she probably wouldn't have been able to do it if it was bright. She closed her eyes and breathed deep, the snout of Dar-Jei against her own nose as their lips were locked together. Tsartia tilted her head sideways and held Dar-Jei's head as they made out, her tongue gently probed past the thin reptilian lips, her mouth open as she explored the Argonian's mouth. Her mouth had a subtle sweet-and-salty taste that Tsartia couldn't get enough of, she caressed her tongue along the rows of sharp teeth lining Dar-Jei's mouth, and their tongues slid against each others. Finally, with one final lick, they parted. Tsartia closed her eyes and licked her lips, enjoying the taste that still lingered on them. "Do you want to keep doing what you were doing before?" she asked timidly. "No, not that." Tsartia could almost feel her own disappointment as a physical weight. "I want to try something else. Up on the ledge." Again, Tsartia was glad of the dark. Did Dar-Jei mean for Tsartia to do the same to her? Receiving it was nice, but doing it to her... "I don't know if I can do anything to you, though." "You don't have to do anything. Just lie back and I'll take care of you." Tsartia obeyed and hopped out of the pool. Here it was waist-deep. Instead of the walls of the pool meeting the floor above in a sharp angle, there was a gentle curve that sloped up, still a few inches in the water. There it sloped upward, past the water-line, where it curved again to horizontal, meeting the floor in the rest of the room. It was on this shelf Tsartia slowly lowered herself, and lay back with her friend standing between her legs. "Just relax and I'll take care of you," she murmured softly and started kissing along Tsartia's jaw and throat, who craned her neck up unconsciously. "I know how hard it is to find time alone to take care of yourself..." Dar-Jei's lips moved down Tsartia's collarbones, towards her breast. "When you have urges that don't go away, you try to ignore it but it gets stronger and stronger until it feels like you're going to burst..." She kissed both of Tsartia's nipples, causing her to gasp each time. She left a trail of light kisses that stopped just above the mound of her crotch. She looked up at Tsartia. "Right?" Tsartia, who couldn't even remember what she had said, gasped, "ye-es." Dar-Jei smiled, then with one smooth motion that brought a wave of bliss that left Tsartia reeling, dragged her tongue across Tsartia's clitoris. It made her arch her back and let out a long breath of air, halfway between a moan and a purr. The Argonian's tongue ran up Tsartia's clitoris. It was flexible and surprisingly long - when it ran across Tsartia's flesh, the motion was slow and long-lasting, each motion another crest in a seemingly endless wave of pleasure. She deftly dragged her tongue up and down her clitoris, giving Tsartia rising and falling waves of bliss that felt like she was being lifted up and down. She seemed to know exactly how to pleasure her, using her tongue to build Tsartia's arousal and slowing down to let it fall and give her a temporary respite. Her heart pounded and her hands clenched, claws scraping the floor as Dar-Jei's tongue flicked across Tsartia's clitoris and ran around it in a circle. She looked down and saw the scaley head of her friend buried between her legs. The Argonian's snout was pressed against the fur at the top of Tsartia's crotch, so she could probe as deep as possible. Her mouth opened and closed slightly as her tongue explored her friend's sensitive spots. Her eyes were closed, and she was breathing heavily open mouth. Tsartia could feel her breath, deliciously cool against the hotness of her genitals. Her arms were around Tsartia's legs, her hands just outside her crotch, keeping her legs spread. Tsartia relaxed and lay with her head back, one arm supporting herself, the other hand on the head of Dar-Jei, she gently caressed the springy feathers rimming the crown of her head, and ran her fingers over the hard horns jutting back from her skull. The steadily rising surge of pleasure left her reeling and gasping for breath, she squirmed around desperately trying not to moan and reveal how good this felt, and suddenly it was too much for her to handle and she let out a long, drawn-out cry. The Argonian's head rose from the mound at the Khajiit's crotch. A thin strand of liquid stretched from her lip to Tsartia's fur, it stretched and broke. She licked her lips. "Is something wrong?" They eye contact with her friend unnerved her - this was something she never imagined she'd do, but she was drunk on arousal. She needed to be satisfied, one way or another. "D-don't stop, Dar-Jei. Just keep going." Dar-Jei tilted her head to the side, and her wriggling tongue slipped inside her, slowly parted the outer lips, her breath tickled her fur like the most gentle caress. Tsartia shuddered as goosebumps spread across her body, and the Argonian's smooth, wet tongue gently probed the entrance to her most sensitive spot as she was penetrated deeply by this unique and foreign object, deeper than her own fingers had ever managed to reach. The Argonian expertly worked her tongue inside her, getting her loose and very, very wet. Without slowing down, Dar-Jei reached up with her free hand and started rubbing Tsartia's clitoris as she did before. The feeling of being penetrated and rubbed was almost too much for her, and her legs shook. She could feel her climax slowly building, and gave an unconscious squirm, and a moan of pleasure She was so lost in the feeling it startled her when Dar-Jei spoke again. "Is my kitten enjoying herself?" Not trusting herself to speak, Tsartia nodded vigorously. "Good. This might be new to you." Dar-Jei lifted Tsartia's legs up higher, until her knees met her shoulders. Tsartia's flexible legs didn't offer resistance, and neither did her mind, eager to find out what was coming. "What are y-ohhhhh....!" Tsartia cried as the Argonian's tongue lapped against her again, but not at her clitoris as before, but now at the bare skin of her anus. She tensed up, and her arm raised to push her friend away, but she faltered. The feeling was definitely new to her, but the weirdness quickly dissolved into a new kind of pleasure, one she had never felt before. She never thought of her ass as a source of pleasure before, and considered this a kind of act reserved for dirty people. But no matter, she thought. It felt good, so she allowed herself to enjoy it. Certainly Dar-Jei seemed to be enjoying it as well, she lapped at her ass, never slowing. Her tongue gently spiralled around Tsartia's anus, flicking across it, never slowing. Once Tsartia relaxed again, she found herself pushing her butt towards Dar-Jei. By Alkosh, she was actually liking this. Fortunately, the Argonian didn't let up or slow down, and her tongue actually darted in and out of the tight puckered ring of flesh, making Tsartia give out a huff of arousal. There was enough saliva, mixed with Tsartia's own fluids, that it slid in easily. The tip wriggled inside her, rubbing against places that had never been touched before. Dar-Jei's fingers continued to slide and spiral around Tsartia's clitoris, while her tongue worked at her ass, licking it and occasionally giving it a sloppy kiss, covering it with her reptilian snout. The scales felt like nothing Tsartia had felt before, bumpy and smooth. As Tsartia relaxed, she felt her butt being spread farther, and the tongue slide deeper in her own ass. She could tell the Argonian was getting more into it as well, she let out little moans of her own in between the wet slurping sounds of her tongue. Tsartia felt Dar-Jei's hand leave her leg and saw her move it into the water, between her own legs. She watched intently as the Argonian started rubbing herself, and it only served to build her arousal more. Never in her life did Tsartia think she'd be turned on by the sight of her friend masturbating in front of her, but she never thought she'd have her pussy and ass licked by her either. Her tongue was long enough she managed to probe the tip of it across Tsartia's anus, while she lay the rest of it across the lips of Tsartia's pussy. The base of her tongue, where it was thickest, rubbed against Tsartia's clitoris. She wriggled it like this, and Tsartia gasped and squirmed with pleasure. This was far beyond anything she had experience before, almost too much for her now. The climax which had been slowly approaching now rushed at her quickly. She threw her head back and gasped with pleasure as a shuddering orgasm rocked her body. Reeling waves of pleasure wracked her, and she was as helpless as a boat in the waves. Her legs shook as she was overcome with almost vicious pleasure, an electric buzz that she could feel from her toes to her fingertips. She bit her lip but it wasn't enough to keep a loud and drawn-out moan escape them. Eventually, after what felt like many breaths and convulsions, the orgasm subsided and was replaced by a kind of heavy satisfaction only an especially powerful orgasm can deliver. Dar-Jei rested her head on her friends belly. "Feel better now?" She asked in her throaty reptilian voice. Tsartia lay back, looking at the ceiling, the heat of her desire finally extinguished. "Yes. Thank you." She slowly regained her breath. "If you ever need help around here again, I'll be available."

"She did need my help a few times after that. But eventually we stopped pretending to work, and just met up to have sex." I was lying on my back, looking at the stars. The sun had set long ago. Tsartia crawled over and put her arms on either sides of my shoulders. "I hope you're as turned on by that as I am," I said. She was.

The next morning we continued on as we were, travelling southeast. We walked mostly in silence, and I could tell Tsartia was deep in thought. I considered asking her what she was thinking about but decided to let her continue. When she did speak up it wasn't what I expected. "How much gold do you have left?" I pulled my coin purse from an inside pocket of my jacket (it felt a lot lighter than I remembered.) I counted the pieces - "twenty-eight Septims." I jingled the coins around in the purse. "That's not as much as I thought." "Do you think that's enough to get us to Valenwood?" I calculated in my head. "Well, it's going to take us at least two weeks to get there. We won't be able to stay at an inn every night, but if we sleep outside, and hunt for our own game, we should be fine." "And then what's our plan once we get there? Do you think we'll find work right away?" I frowned. I hadn't thought about it as much as I should have, I had just been concentrating on getting there "We had nowhere else to go. Do you not want to go anymore?" "I do, but it would just be nice if we found some money to last more than a few days, until we find work." "What do you have in mind? "The cave Rodan told us about. It should be close." But I was already shaking my head. "It's too dangerous. I don't want to get mixed up in a fight if we can avoid it." "But how do you know there's going to be anyone there? He said it was abandoned." "I don't want to risk it. It could be dangerous, and I don't think it's worth it. I doubt Rodan is the first person to find it, so there's probably nothing there anyways." "In that case," and she tilted her head matter-of-factually, "there's no danger. But if it's stayed hidden, we might find something of value." I looked at her, not agreeing but not knowing how to say it. "We can just check it out," she said. "What are you afraid of?" I put my hands on her shoulders. "I'm not afraid for myself. If I was alone, I'd check it out. But I don't want to put you in danger, okay? It isn't safe." "But I don't want safety!" She pushed my hands off her and I could hear the distress in her voice. "I was safe for twenty years on that plantation. Now that I'm out, I want to explore with you. You've travelled across Tamriel, and I've gone a bit with you, and I'm grateful, but what I want now is adventure. I want freedom, even if it's dangerous. I want danger." She looked away from me, as if embarrassed by her sudden outburst. "Sorry, it's just, I've always wanted to explore Tamriel, and now that I'm with you, I can." She looked at me with a hard, serious gaze. "I handled myself when I was caught by the Thalmor, before you showed up. They didn't get anything out of me before we got to the Embassy. Trust me when I say I'm not afraid." The look in her eyes made me believe her. "Alright. I believe you. We'll check it out, but we will be cautious. If it looks suspicious, we're leaving right away. Even if it's not bandits. It could be..." and I trailed off. "What?" I spread my arms. "I don't know... wild animals or something," and I smiled at the ridiculousness of it. She stood on her toes so she could kiss me on the nose. "I'm a wild animal," she said. I chuckled, thinking of last night. "Yes you are," I said. Soon we had reached the stream Rodan told us about that crossed the road. It bubbled over the rocks, swift and full from the recent rainfall. Westward it curved away into the distance. We followed the stream for a bit, and sure enough, we came to a boulder that had been split in two, as Rodan had said. A massive tree stood atop it, whose roots crawled into the the breach of the boulder, They look like some giant's massive brown fingers that had ripped it apart. Next to it was a narrow hole in the rocky hill face, not much more than a crack a foot wide and a bit taller than me. I crouched, looking for any signs of footprints near it. But the ground surrounding the cave was a mix of rocky shale, no footprints would appear here even if people had passed here moments ago. I put a foot down, pressed my weight onto it, and lifted it, looking to see if I had left a print. There was nothing. And no sign of any passage on the narrow opening of the rock. "What do you think?" asked Tsartia behind me. "There's no way to tell if anyone's been here. But we can check it out. But be on your guard." She followed me inside and we were plunged into inky darkness. I couldn't tell how deep the cave went, anything beyond the first twenty feet of the cave was black. The entrance was a thin jagged scar of white which obliterated any detail of the world beyond it. Tsartia went deeper into the cave, sure of herself even in the dim light. "It goes back quite a bit here, there's a few smaller rooms..." As my eyes adjusted to the gloom, I saw torches lining the walls, cold and dead. There was still a smoky smell in the air, thin and wispy."This hasn't been abandoned for long..." I said. The only response was, "...something back here," and I heard her rummaging around in the darkness beyond my vision. I closed my eyes and listened. If there was one good thing that came out of my army training, it was my heightened senses, the way I could pay more attention to details an uninitiated average person might miss. Details like the smell of recently burned torches. "Whoa!" "What?" I raised my dagger, squinting into the inky blackness. I heard the clinking of metal, then the shuffle of something heavy being dragged across the sandy floor. Tsartia came into view, there were dusty cobwebs on the top of her head, and strung across her feline ears like decorations across trees in a New Life festival. She was dragging a small but heavy-looking wooden chest behind her. "Look what I found!" she whispered and dropped the chest in front of me. I crouched down in front of it. It was long and narrow, made of old wood and bound with heavy bands of black iron that were rusty with age. It was secured with a heavy clasp and padlock. "Think you can get it open?" I studied the lock. "I think I can." I took the lock pick I still had out of my boot and went to work on it. It was an old lock, but well-made. I went gently and worked the tumblers one-by-one, working by feel and sound. Tsartia watched me intently. The last tumbler seemed stuck and I nearly broke my pick trying to force it open. But finally it snapped into position, I turned the lock and it swung free. I took off the lock and dropped it to the sandy floor, and opened the lid with a squeal. It was empty. "It was so heavy, though," she said, and I could hear the disappointment in her voice. "Probably just the weight of the box," I said. "Unless..." I ran my fingers over the dust that lined the bottom, and it moved slightly. I pushed down on one corner and the opposite corner raised up. Smiling to myself, I pulled away the false bottom and lifted it out of the chest. There was a tightly-wrapped bundle on the bottom. I lifted it out of the box. A long and thin object, heavy for its size. I heard Tsartia gasp when I unwrapped it and let the cloth fall away. There were two short swords, in matching scabbards wrapped in dark red leather. Simple but elegant leafy patterns were etched in it. The same leather was wrapped around the handles. The mouths of the scabbards where the handle of the blade met them, as well as the tips, were capped in brass. "What do you think those are worth?" I gently laid one down on my knees and slowly pulled the other out of its scabbard. It glided out smoothly, nearly silently. It caught the reflection of the light of the cave and threw a bar of light onto the stone ceiling. I turned it so it caught my own reflection, and beside me, Tsartia's face, looking intently at the blade. The balance was perfect, and the leather handle was smooth and fit in my hand comfortably. "I don't know, but I think I like them too much to sell them." "Well, just one, then. Keep the other." I held the sheathed one out to her. "One for me and one for you." Her face was serious. "Del, I've never even held a sword. Much less used one." "It's not difficult. The pointy end goes to the bad people. I'll train you one day." At that moment the light in the cave was extinguished, plunging us both into darkness. Voices came from the entrance of the cave. "...never would have thought of that, myself." And then the response: "That's why I'm the captain" then the laugh of at least two others. I saw her eyes, wide with fear, look up. In a second, they would see us, there was no time to hide, and nowhere to run. I stood up. "Get to the back of the cave. Now." Blessedly, she obeyed and shrank back into the shadows where she was hidden. It had been years since I used a blade. Luckily, some things you don't forget and I knew I could easily remember the skills I had learned. But if I had to recall that, what else would I remember? Would I remember the fire, the pain, the screams of pain and cries for mercy that had haunted me for the last thirty years? There was no time to worry about that now. If it brought another flashback, so be it. I'd deal with it later. I picked up the other sword and flicked it downward, so the scabbard slipped off and stuck up in the sand with a dull thud. I turned to the cave entrance. The man (Imperial, by the looks of it) who had entered looked up at the sound, then up to me. He squinted and smiled. Without taking his eyes off me, he yelled back, "looks like we've got an intruder, boys!" Another squeezed into the cave. This one was a Khajiit, one who looked old. The fur on his ears and around his eyes was flecked with grey. His eyes flickered from me to the back of the cave where Tsartia was hidden. He said in a raspy voice, "ooh, that's a pretty one." Damn it, he can see her in the dark. I thought. I'd have to keep an eye on her, make sure they didn't get close. Another one came up behind him, an Argonian. The Khajiit spoke to me. "Tell you what. This one gives us the girl, and the swords and then Bosmer can walk away. Otherwise we kill you." In a low voice he must have thought was sensual, he called, "Come along with us, my kitten. Khajiit will show you how it's done properly. You won't have to settle for some limp-dicked elf." My only response was changing my position. After thirty years, my training hadn't faded, and I recalled the fighting stance we had been taught when using two identical weapons. I held the one in my right normally, but the other, I switched to an underhand grip, holding it down like I would a dagger. I held it in front of my body to better protect myself. The other, I held back and above my body, so it could be swung down or thrust forward, depending on where my opponent moved. After all this time, it was as natural as breathing. I silently thanked the endless drills we were forced to take. I remembered my instructor Corman and his brutal but helpful advice: Pay attention, maggot! You kill the enemy by fighting, not daydreaming! "Just try to take her," I said. The man approached me, his companions close behind. "You can have the girl," he said to the Khajiit behind him. "Maybe we can make him watch." He pulled a sword of his own from a scabbard on his belt - a long, two-handed heavy-looking thing of bright iron. The others behind him did the same. To me he said: "There are three of us, tree-fucker. What do you think you can do?" "How about I show you?" He paused while sizing me up. I didn't. I my training and instincts take over. With speed he didn't expect, I swung the right sword in a wide arc with as much speed and power as I could muster, and hit the very tip of his own, where the force would be maximized. The blades clanged together and echoed in the small room hard enough it was wrenched sideways and out of the way. At the same, I brought the left one up, cutting across his hands that gripped the handle. He gave a cry halfway between a shriek and a hiss, lowered the sword but didn't drop it. By then my right sword was back in position, swung it downwards, with the weight of my upper body behind it, slamming down on his cross-guard. It was wrenched out of his grip and onto the floor. I kicked it behind me, out of his reach, then brought up both swords and smacked him across the sides of his head with the flat parts of both my blades - he went down instantly and stayed there. I held the two swords upright now: less protection, but greater striking power. The two remaining paused for a second and I could see the surprise in their eyes - here was an opponent with training, one tougher than they were used to. They glanced briefly at each other and came at me at the same time. I sidestepped them both, keeping one in between me and the the other so they couldn't reach me at the same time. I kept a mental note of our position relative to Tsartia in case one of them approached her, but they seemed to be concentrating only on me. The Argonian approached me first, carrying a heavy, two-handed axe in both hands. He raised it above his head and lunged towards me. I formed my two swords together in an X above me, and braced myself. The heavy iron blade smashed down upon them, and he put his entire weight into it. Sparks flew from the blades, glowing bright in the dim cave. I was almost brought to my knees by the force of the blow. He had the advantage of me in terms of weight and strength, but I could move quicker. I shifted my weight to the side, and guided his axe, still with the momentum of his body behind it, down to the floor. I brought a knee up and smashed his snout with it. I heard a sick crunching sound, and felt warm blood on my knee. He gave hiss and jumped back, letting go of his axe. Blood streaming from the front of his reptilian face, he darted out of the cave and into the light. Now there was only me and the Khajiit left. I readied myself as before, but he didn't approach me. He glanced between me and Tsartia, hidden in the back of the cave, and approached her. He was closer to her than to me, so I did the only thing I could think of - I gripped the sword loosely and swung it way back- prepared to throw. I moved my arm forward and _ looked inside the enemy tent while the forest burned around us and people were slaughtered by the hundreds. The young Khajiit lunged at me with a sword that looked too big for him. He clumsily swung it and I deflected the blade easily._ NO! I thought. I shook my head, trying to clear the memory. I can't have a flashback now. Tsartia was in danger and if I didn't _ focus, maggot!_ she'd be dead or worse, and it'd be my fault. I managed to unfreeze, take control of my own body. But it was too late. He grabbed her by the neck, roughly pulled her in front of her and held his own sword to her throat. The other hand he held over her mouth. She struggled, holding his wrist, but he held his arms firm. "Stop squirming, you." She let her arms fall to her sides. To me, he said, "drop them. Do it now." I saw Tsartia's eye's wide, but not with fear. She held eye contact with me, then at the sword in my hand, then at the ground near her feet. Back to me, the sword, the ground. Then I understood. The Khajiit behind her pressed the blade deeper into the fur on her neck. "Last chance, Bosmer. Unless you want to watch her die." I dropped a sword in front of me, saw his eyes follow it to the ground. The second one I tossed farther away, right in front of Tsartia's feet. The moment it landed, Tsartia did something which surprised the both of us: she opened her mouth wide, and bit down hard on the fingers in front if it. The Khajiit behind her gave a snarl of pain and surprise, and for the moment, both hands holding her were loosened. Tsartia dropped to the floor, as his blade crossed over her face I saw a splash of crimson against her fur as it cut her. She snatched up the sword I had tossed to her feet, reached up, and before he could move, plunged it deep into his heart. He gave a hrrrkkk of pain and surprise, dropped his sword, and stumbled forward. Tsartia wrenched the blade free and stood back. Blood streamed from the wound. He fell to his knees hands covering his chest and getting soaked in blood. He collapsed on his side, writhed on the floor for a few moments, making laboured gasping sounds. I looked up at Tsartia. She didn't see to even see him. Instead, her eyes were on the sword, and she watched the blood drip down it and onto her fingers. Her breathing was calm and regular. She used it to cut off a piece of the still-twitching Khajiit's tunic and wiped the sword clean. "Where's the scabbard?" she muttered, without looking at me. She found it sticking up in the sand, and grabbed it. The Khajiit made a low gurgling sound like a drain being emptied and he was silent. I said her name and she didn't seem to heard me. She sheathed the sword. "Tsartia," I said louder. "Look at me." She did, and what I saw made me take a step back. There was a long, shallow scratch along the side of her face, from her jaw to her scalp, which had just barely missed her eye. It was oozing blood, which had soaked the fur along that side of her face. But what stopped me were her eyes. They seemed to focus on the wall behind me, and they had a steely, hard look in them. They looked like they were made of glass. It was a look I had seen a thousand times before, but never in her. In the Valenwood army there were elite veterans who had been fighting for a century or more - men and women with dozens or hundreds of kills to their name, who had known only war their entire lives. They had reached the point where killing was an every day thing for them, hardly worthy of thinking about. They never panicked, and cut through swaths of enemies without pause or mercy. It was they who, when ordered to torch an entire village to the ground, obeyed without question. I saw many of them in my unit, during my first and only assignment, and it was like fighting next to machines. When the fighting began, they were silent and efficient with a glassy, dead look on their faces. The same look I saw in Tsartia's face right now. "Are you alright?" She took a deep breath and spoke in a voice that was barely above a whisper. "I think so." I moved towards her, my arms out, but she took a step back. "How do you stay so calm after that?" She lowered her eyes but I noticed they shied away from the bodies on the floor. "It's not the first time someone's held a knife to my throat. I learned how to calm myself down very early." Her voice was flat, like she was reading from a book. I wanted her to put the sword down. "Let's get that cut cleaned in the river. We should find a healer, too, so it doesn't scar." She shook her head, sending a couple drops of blood flinging away. One landed on me. "No. If it scars, it'll be a reminder. I said I wanted danger and I got it." She pulled her robes back, belted the sword on her waist, and let the robes cover it. She cast her hood over her head and led the way out of the cave, blood still dripping from her jaw. Not knowing what else to do, I belted the other sword and followed uncertainly behind.