Chapter One
Late at night, a fire was crackling in the hearth of Garth and Robyn Misteltein. The half-Nord, half-Imperial siblings were just about to celebrate two remarkable achievements together in their home of Cyrodiil. Raising her flagon, Robyn, the younger of the two at a jovial eighteen years, gave her toast. "To my big brother Garth! Congratulations on joining the Fighter's Guild. I hope you don't forget your little sister when you're out adventuring."
The brother, aged twenty and one, returned her toast with one of his own. "And to my little sister, now a grown woman dedicated to the ways of Dibella. May your cushions be soft and your needs satisfied."
The young girl sighed softly. "I keep telling you brother, I'm an acolyte, not a whore."
"Right. Whore's charge money," he taunted. He knew he was being rather cruel to his sister, but how else could he describe what she did. People would come to the temple in search of "healing" and she would provide it. With every part of her she could.
"I suppose I'll just have to get used to the mindless sheep like yourself that come in," she fired back, though the big grin on her face showed that, like everything else, she'd simply shrugged off his insult. "Oh! I made us sweet rolls!" she suddenly declared, running out of the room, only to return with a platter.
Immediately, Garth began to salivate. His sister, among other things, was an excellent chef. The idea of her sweet rolls was one that appealed to him greatly. He'd managed to get through about three of them before everything went black.
Garth groaned as a sudden jostle woke him from his slumber. Immediately, he felt a cold chill around his body. Looking down at himself, he nearly cried out in horror to find that he was dressed in little more than a loin cloth. "Ah, I see you're awake," a masculine voice called just in front of him.
As his eyes adjusted to the bright light, realization began to sink in. His hands were bound, similarly to the ones of the other occupants of the cart. The man who'd addressed him was in a blue chainmail armor. He was a Nord, judging by his hair and accent. "What happened?" Garth asked. "Where am I?"
"You were caught in the middle of some unsavory business by the Imperial patrols. You should have known better than to try to cross the border. Especially when you were so...ill-equipped." He gestured towards his clothes as an indication.
"Border?" Garth asked. "What border?" Turning his head, he saw that beside him was Robyn, hands bound, and a wide dopey grin on her face. Her eyes were glazed over and her cheeks were flushed a bright pink. It looked almost as if… "Robyn? Robyn, are you okay?"
"Just fine, big brother," she hummed absently.
Turning back to the man before him, Garth let out a growl. "What did you bastards do to my sister? I swear, the moment I get out of these binds I'll…"
"Sister?!" the man interrupted, his eyes going wide in shock. "Holy hell, man! She is your sister?! We all thought she was your lover or something! Considering that you were...well, you were exploring her more thoroughly than any brother should."
"What?!"
"It was awesome," she sighed, unable to stay cognizant long enough to explain things in the conversation.
Shaking his head, Garth said, "We'll get to that problem later. Right now, start with where in Oblivion I am."
"Aye, that is a good question, friend. I believe we are heading towards Helgen."
"Helgen? Where's Helgen?"
"Oh, you really don't know where you are. Lad, you're in Skyrim!"
"SKYRIM?!" Garth boomed. His eyes scanned the chilly landscape resting upon the two other men.
"Damn stormcloaks. This is all your fault," one man said. "If not for you, I'd been able to get away with that horse. How the Oblivion was I supposed to know that you bastards were heading along the border? I should be in Hammerfell by now."
"A horse thief? And what did you do?" the older brother asked the man who'd first spoke to him.
"I fought for Skyrim with a heart full of fire and a head full of cold reason! These damned Imperials think they can come into our land and bend us over a post the same way stableboys do to cheap hookers, but they have another think coming!"
There was a painful lash across the side of Garth's face as the driver of the carriage turned and swatted him with the riding crop. "Hush back there, prisoners!" he demanded.
"I wasn't even the one talking!" Garth protested, earning him another slap across the face. "Fucking son of a bitch," he murmured under his breath, rubbing his cheek tenderly. "Wait, I remember hearing something about stormcloaks. You're the rebellion, aren't you?"
"Ha! Only cowards would call the truly righteous rebels, lad. We are freedom fighters, working to rid all of Skyrim of the Alderi Dominion and their bootlicking Imperial dogs."
His eyes going to the man on the other side of his sister, who sat bound and gagged, staring intensely at the skies, Garth realized just how bad of a situation he was in. "Holy shit. That's Jarl Ulfric then…"
"The true High King of Skyrim. Yes, indeed lad. You may call me Ralof."
"Then that also means…"
"Yes. I fear that our stop will be our final one. Where are you two from, friend? What about you, horse thief?"
"Rorikstead," the thief replied.
"We're not from Skyrim," Garth explained. "Honestly, I don't even remember how we got here! Just last night we were in Cyrodiil when…" Memories slowly began to trickle back into his head. The sweet rolls! "What the Oblivion were you thinking you stupid girl?! I can't believe you drugged me over a stupid joke!"
"It was an accident," she complained, finally starting to come out of her post-coital stupor. "We didn't have any real sugar, so I thought that moonsugar would work. How was I supposed to know it'd turn to skooma in the oven?"
"How were you supposed to...For Divines' sake Robyn, what did you think skooma was made of?! Speaking of which, where in the world did you possibly get moonsugar?"
"Some Khajit traders outside of the temple," she answered plainly, as if it were the most reasonable answer in the world.
"Enough, you two!" the man across from us said. "We're all going to meet our ancestors. Don't you think that perhaps now is a poor time to have a family feud?"
"Oh no. We're not meeting our ancestors. We're not getting executed! Robyn and I are going to explain everything and then they'll just let us go."
"Hmmph. Nice try," the man from Rorikstead retorted. "I said that too and they still hauled me off. The three of us shouldn't be here. We're not like these rebels."
Suddenly, the cart came to a jolting halt. "All right, prisoners. Everyone out. When your name is called, go to the block to await your turn."
"Seriously? She acts like we're all excited about being executed," Garth murmured. "All right, Robyn. Listen to me. If what Ralof said about our capture is true, they wouldn't have been able to get our names. When they notice that, we're going to bolt for it, okay? There's no way they could catch us."
She nodded in agreement, but stayed silent. "Ulfric of Windhelm," the captain called out. Sure enough, the regal-looking man stepped forward, no trace of fear in his eyes. As the man next to the captain checked off the name, the Jarl stepped away. "Ralof of Windhelm."
"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric," he murmured before stepping forward, the same amount of courage on his face. Part of Garth was in awe by the way they faced their deaths.
"Lokir of Rorikstead."
The horse thief began to panic. Shit, was he going to screw up our plan? "No, please!" he begged. "You can't do this to me! I'm not a rebel, I'm not with them!" Suddenly, he dashed past them, full sprint. "You're not going to kill me!" he cried.
Damn it! If he got away, they'd be extra on guard for his sister and himself. "Archers!" the captain called, not even skipping a beat. Archers? I didn't see any… Garth's thoughts were interrupted as at least a dozen arrows let fly from every direction. The horse thief spun from the repeated blows before falling into a bloody mess.
The older brother tried to shield his sister from the sight, but she didn't seem phased by it in the slightest. Perhaps she was tougher than he gave her credit for. So much for their plan.
The Imperial General swayed out, stepping right up to Jarl Ulfric's face. "Some folks here in Helgen call you a hero," he told him, a smug grin on his face. "But a hero doesn't use his power to betray his king and usurp his throne."
The Jarl made some sort of reply, but the gag in his mouth prevented anyone from understanding it. "Next!" the captain boomed. Garth's sister and he immediately took a step forward, causing the man with the clipboard to look at them puzzled.
"And who...are you two, exactly?" The two siblings began talking at once before he held up his hand to stop them. "Slow down. You, start." He pointed at the older sibling.
"I'm Garth, this is Robyn. We're from Cyrodiil. Look, this has all been a huge misunderstanding. We weren't supposed to be here. You see, my sister and I were celebrating and…"
"Oh, I know exactly who these two are," the Captain huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "These two were engaging in illicit acts after teleporting right into the middle of our ambush! We tried to break them up but…" her eyes focused on him. "This milk-drinker here decided it'd be amusing to grope me."
"Milk-drinker?!" Garth protested.
"Not the time, Garth," Robyn urged him, before batting her eyes at the man. "Please, sir. It was honestly just a huge accident. I accidently teleported us there, and it wasn't intentional. We're upstanding citizens of the Empire, honest."
Somehow, that seemed to work. "Captain," he murmured. "They're not on the list. Maybe we should…"
"Send them to the block," she ordered, glaring intently at Garth.
The man sighed softly. "By your orders, captain." Turning back to the both of them, he said, "Don't worry. We'll send your remains back home. Wait to be called to the block with the others."
With that, the two of them walked to stand in front of the line while Robyn and I trudged to the prisoners. "I hope you're happy," he hissed at her. "Now we're both dead because you decided to do something stupid like bake us skooma rolls!"
"I told you, it was an accident," she shot back.
"As was teleporting us to Skyrim, I bet."
"Sorry, I was a little distracted by the huge orgasm I was getting from my brother!"
His cheeks turned a bright red. "We will never speak of this again for the rest of our lives. All five minutes of them."
Robyn's eyes fell to her feet in disappointment. How could she explain to her brother that she had never felt so much love and affection from him before? Dibella smiled on love of all kinds, even the strange. Even in her Dibellan training at the hands of her sisters, she'd never felt such love than she had from her brother.
"Read them their last rites," the captain instructed the priestess.
As she began her spiel, praying to the eight divines for our immortal souls, one of the members of the stormcloaks let out a groan. "For the love of Talos, shut up and get on with it!" he demanded. Moving to just before the block, he fell to his knees and laid his head on the chopping block. "My ancestors are smiling on me, Imperials. Can you say the same?"
Beside Garth, Robyn began quickly chanting the rites for the man under her breath. The last thing she wanted was to see him cursed to a hellish eternity. There was a firm thunk as the man's head was removed from his shoulders.
Exclamations of all sorts echoed from around the two. Some were cries of "Justice!" others were respectful words for the dead. A strange and alien roar floated through the breeze, causing a chill to run down Garth's spine.
"What was that?" the man with the clipboard asked.
"Who cares?" the Captain snarled before glaring at the older brother. "You! Pervert! You're up next."
"M-me?"
Another roar came out. "There it was again!"
"I said, 'Next Prisoner!'"
The man nervously looked back to the brother with a nod. "You heard her prisoner. To the block, nice and easy."
As Garth stepped forward, all he could feel was contempt for his sister. This was their life. He worked hard to be a respectable member of society, and she, in all of her stupidity and carefree nature, made messes that he got into by association.
"I love you, Garth," Robyn called to him as the headsmen raised his axe. Her brother said nothing in response, waiting for the moment when he'd die with honor and dignity. Suddenly, a heavy weight crashed down on the tower, sending the earth shaking beneath them.
Garth's eyes shot open to stare past the headsman up at the biggest monstrosity he'd ever seen. This creature was enormous and winged. In his head, he knew exactly what it was he was looking at, but he could hardly believe it. A dragon.
"Fus roh dah!" It roared in an ancient tongue, sending a concussive blast outwards that scattered Imperials and prisoners alike.
Realizing her chance, Robyn ran to her brother and helped him to his feet. "This way!" Ralof cried, waving to them from another tower. "The gods won't give us another chance!" The siblings rushed for shelter, just as a spurt of flame jettisoned behind them.
Slamming the door shut, the two leaned against it breathing heavily. "What is that thing?!" Robyn gasped. "Was that a dragon?! Those aren't real. They're just legends!"
"Legends don't burn down villages," Ulfric pointed out, now having worked off his gag. "We need to get to safety, who knows how much longer we have until…" His words were cut off as the dragon's head slammed through the upper wall of the tower.
"Yol toor shul!"
Fire erupted through the upper deck of the tower, before the dragon took off once more. Garth ran up the stairs to find that the upper story of a house next door was revealed. They had a path out. "Robyn, come on!" he instructed.
As she reached the top too, he gave her a quick shove, sending her screaming down to the wooden floor with a pained thud. Jumping after her, he quickly helped her too her feet and charged down to the first floor. "Why would you do that?!" she cried. "Why not just tell me to jump?!"
"With your little chicken legs? Not likely," he scoffed, pulling her after him. Just as they rounded the corner, the man with the clipboard was there, gesturing for a child a to come to him. "Yor tool shul!" The dragon roared, sending flame down the pathway, but the man managed to grab the kid and pull him to safety before either could be incinerated.
"Bless you, Hadvar," the boy's father sobbed, holding him to his chest.
"You're alive!" Hadvar cried when he saw the two. "Come on! I'll make sure you stay that way. Stay close to the wall!"
Sure enough, the dragon peered over, just as the three flattened themselves. With another archaic screech, he incinerated the imperial forces that had attempted to subvert him. "Go, go!" `Garth instructed his sister, and they began to run as fast as possible. "Get into the keep! Once we get there we'll be safe!"
As they reached the entrance with Hadvar, Ralof charged forward as well, nearly running full force into the Imperial soldier. "Ralof you damned traitor!" Hadvar accused.
"You're not stopping us this time, Hadvar! Come with me you two! We'll get to freedom!"
"Fine! I hope the dragon takes you all to Sovrngarde!"
Before Robyn could protest, Garth chased after the stormcloak, dragging his sister behind him. As they entered the keep, they slammed the door shut, allowing them to finally catch their breath. Inside, however, another stormcloak lay dead on the ground.
As Robyn bent over him, she began saying his rites once more. "Well, that certainly was exciting, eh?" Ralof asked Garth.
"Too much excitement for me personally," he agreed, holding out his wrists. "Mind giving me a hand with these binds?"
"Ah, sure thing. Sorry." As he cut him free, Ralof looked at Robyn. "Hey, uhh...is she going to be all right? I know some women folk can be…"
"Don't," Garth warned him, rubbing his wrists. "She's fine, trust me. If anything, she probably doesn't even get the severity of what's going on."
Despite his hurtful comment, Robyn stayed silent. Her brother was upset, she knew, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of a response. "Take his armor," Ralof offered of the dead man. "He won't be using it anymore, so you may as well. Give the axe a few swings, too. We'll get out of here together. I've got family in Riverwood nearby that we can hole up with."
"Thanks a bunch. You stormcloaks aren't nearly as bad as the empire paints you to be," Garth told him.
Ralof stifled a laugh. "Those asshole-munching elf lovers! They've shown their true faces today! They wouldn't even give Ulfric a fair trial! They knew if they did, no Nord would possibly speak against him."
Garth slipped the armor over his torso to find that it fit rather snugly. Moving his arms to ensure it had enough movement for him to fight, he picked up the waraxe and tested its weight with a few swings. "Don't worry, Robyn," he told her. "I'm going to get you out of this, okay? Just stay next to me and I'll keep you safe."
"Okay," she murmured meekly, nuzzling up against him. She knew she was acting weak, but she would honestly act any way she could to feel the same warmth and affection her brother had given her the previous night. Sure enough, he wrapped an arm around her in a half-embrace before Ralof cursed.
"The gates locked. Let's see about the other one."
Before he could test it though, they could hear the sounds of Imperials storming down the hallway. "Get down," Garth instructed, pulling his sister to the side of the gate. Ralof flanked the other part of the door, nodding to the brother to show he understood the plan.
When the Imperials came in, they'd get the drop on them. Sure enough, when the gate swung open, iron and steel began to fly. As Garth's axe clashed with the captain's sword, Ralof barely managed to overcome Hadvar.
The captain, however, managed to overpower the older sibling. Just as she rose her blade, she shot him a smirk. "This is to restore the honor you stole from your sister, you sick bastard!"
Suddenly, a spurt of flame engulfed her, causing her to scream out in agony before collapsing to the ground. Rolling over quickly, Garth grabbed up his axe and drove it down onto her neck, decapitating her completely.
When he looked to the source of the flame, his sister stood there, her fingers splayed and smoke trailing from their tips. "Robyn?! You know destruction magic?!"
"What?" she scoffed. "Did you really think all I learned in the temple was out to sleep around? We have to defend ourselves somehow!"
"Just surprised you saved me is all."
"Really? You're my brother! I love you, Garth. I'd never let anyone hurt you. Especially not some ungrateful bitch who can't appreciate you the way I do."
"Well...this is awkward," Ralof coughed. "Perhaps we should save this touching family...interaction...for later? There's still a dragon flying about outside."
"Right," Garth agreed. "Let's move."
Rushing down through the keep, the siblings managed to fight their way through until they reached a room with two men in leather hoods. "Gods, it's a torture room," Ralof gasped.
"They'll pay for this," Garth swore under his breath. Drawing his axe, he charged forward, burying it into the back of the torturer's skull. Robyn narrowly avoided the assistant's bolts of lightning before returning with a spell of her own.
The man cried out as fire engulfed him, before collapsing into a charred heap. "I must say, your magic is quite impressive," Ralof complimented the girl. "You ever think about joining the college in Winterhold? You'd make big waves."
Before Robyn could respond, her brother pointed towards one of the cages. "Hey, there's a spell book in here. Robyn, look around for a lockpick. I'll see if I can get the door open."
"You can pick a lock?" she asked in surprise. "I always thought you were the straight laced type."
"Yeah, so did I," he huffed. "Right now, I doubt breaking and entering is too high in the list of bad things we could be doing, so I'm willing to sacrifice my ideals for our survival."As the door swung open, he stepped aside gesturing for her to grab the contents of the cage. Feel free to change. We'll scout ahead so you can have some privacy."
As the two men left, Robyn sighed and began to strip from her robes. For once, she'd wished her brother would have stayed to watch.
Robyn smiled as she cheerfully watched her brother tear into her moonsugar-laced sweet rolls. He'd given her so much crap over the years, it was time for payback. He'd most likely do something super embarrassing, and best of all, she'd be right there to have caught it all.
After he ate two, he reached for a third one, but Robyn pulled the tray away with a giggle. "I think you've had enough big brother. You've already swallowed two of them whole. Do you even taste food or does it just go down a hatch into a bottomless pit?"
"M-more," he slurred, moving closer to her.
Success! Her plan had worked. As she tried to shove away the rolls behind her, he slowly crawled on his hands and knees towards her. He was trying to stretch around her to reach it, but Robyn kept it just out of his reach until her brother suddenly shoved his lips against hers.
She gave a muffled cry of protest before he swept her arms from under her, causing her to fall on to her back with him on top of her. His hands grasped her wrists, pinning them above her as he began to kiss and nibble on her throat.
"B-brother?" she gasped, but the only response she received was a muffled grunt into her neck. She tried to fight against his grip, but being from the fighter's guild he was just too strong. She couldn't use any magic like this, but worse was the way her body was reacting to the assault.
A tingle of excitement began to build in her that she recognized as a sign from on high from Dibella. It was the same sensation she'd felt when her sisters at the temple performed their induction ceremony with that wonderful vibrating Dwemer artifact.
However, the feeling she had with her brother was far more intense than it had been at the temple. Being unable to force him off of her, she attempted to reason with him. "Garth, this...this isn't right. I mean...you're...and I'm...What would our parents say?"
His hands lifted from her wrists, and for a moment she hoped (and feared) that she'd managed to convince him, until he reached up and removed his own shirt, tossing it away. A sharp breath escaped Robyn's lips.
She knew her brother was fit. It'd be difficult to be in the fighter's guild otherwise, but he was gorgeous. His muscles were lithe and taut, and when he moved, every piece of him seemed to shift and flex so perfectly.
Her cheeks began to burn a bright red as she stared up at him, not budging an inch, despite her new freedom. Even as he began tearing her robes open, she didn't utter a sound, less in any fear that he would harm her, and more in bliss at the thought of being ravaged.
She couldn't be more certain now. This was Dibella's will. The Goddess had heard her prayers for her brother to find love in the temple, and in an ironic twist of fate, was now showing that he had it in front of him the entire time.
As his lips wrapped around her nipple and began to suck, she arched her back, pressing it closer to him. Her arms instinctively rose to wrap around her brother. She ran her fingers through his hair and clung to him desperately.
The two were in a torrential downpour of bliss on the stormy ocean of desire, and he was the life preserver she had. "Brother, do you love me?" she managed to gasp out. She wasn't sure why the question escaped her lips, but she had to know.
An affirmative groan came from his throat as he continued to trail feverish kisses down her body. When he'd reached her navel, he paused for a moment. If he stopped now, Robyn was certain she'd go mad. This had stopped being a strange, yet enjoyable act. She was deep in need now, and she knew that only Garth could give her what her body yearned for.
He slipped her undergarments off of her legs. Again, she put up no struggle. Her thighs and mound were completely bare, as was commanded of the Dibellan priestesses. Those who were of the highest order were allowed to grow their pubic hair, but most preferred to remain shaven.
When her brother placed his lips upon her lower ones, divine waves began to crash in her very soul. It felt good! The way his mouth and tongue caressed her insides and clit with such amazing proficiency made Robyn question whether or not her brother indeed needed her prayers to begin with.
Surely a man without a lover his entire life could not be this skilled on his first try. Still, he continued to prove her wrong again and again. The hand that gripped his head in thoughts of guiding him, now found itself uselessly resting there as she moaned her gratitude to her Goddess.
The sounds she made were her own personal hymns, and this she concluded, was the sign she needed to show that she was doing right by her beliefs. What fears she'd had about sweaty ugly men coming to the temple for instruction were gone now, because she knew that after this, even attractive men would not be able to sate her as her brother had.
It wasn't long before her body arched and her toes curled, before releasing all of the pent up divine bliss in a sweet holy orgasm. Even as she lay panting, her brother continued his work, licking the remnants of her joy from her folds.
"N-no more," she breathed, unsure if her body could continue to take such pleasures and survive. Her brother, however, was not finished. He stood, stripping from the rest of his clothing, much to Robyn's awe.
Garth's endowments were as impressive as the rest of his body. The temple's divine artifact seemed like a toy compared to the great warhammer her brother had had tucked away. Fear gripped Robyn tightly as she attempted to move away, but the anticipation of her brother's worship to Dibella and her ensuing pleasure forced her to remain still.
As he once more crawled over her body, she was certain her heart would explode out of her chest. It was racing so fast, she felt as if she'd just run across all of Tamriel. Drawing him into her embrace, this time, she kissed him lovingly, moaning divine words of grace into his lips.
As his tip began to slip into her prepared passage, she struggled to make room for Garth's girth. Divines! How much more could he possibly have to put in? The familiar tickle of magic began to trickle forth as he grasped her legs, pulling them up to drape over his shoulders.
Soon, he was thrusting inside of her, so deep that she could feel him tickling her womb through her stretched cervix. Despite that this was her first time with a true man, there was no pain as the other priestesses had advised her. She felt no tearing or horrible sensation of burning, other than the fiery passion that rolled off of her brother.
As his thrusts sped faster, Robyn could not help but to cry out prayers to Dibella of gratitude for this gift. Such pleasure, such bliss, it made even his earlier treatment pale in comparison.
The younger sibling could scarcely control herself. The magic she'd felt was no longer a gentle brook, but a raging river that flooded her entire being as pinkish light enveloped them both. If her brother noticed, he didn't react, and when the light faded, they were in darkness.
Trees stretched up into a starry expanse, and soft chill of freshly powdered snow pressed against Robyn's back. She didn't have time to even contemplate such a thing, as her eyes rolled back into her head. Her gibbering grew louder, to the point of becoming incoherent as she tightened her grip on her brother's member and came.
The blissful stupor came in violent waves as her brother showed his physical endurance, pounding deep inside of her with love and abandon. His fingers dug into her hips, but Robyn cared little, so lost was she to her own ecstasy.
Her brother's cock twitched inside of her, and through her bliss, the fear that he'd cum inside of her barely penetrated. Suddenly, hands were upon them, and there was shouting as the two were separated. She wasn't entirely sure what was happening, but she tried her best to answer any questions that were asked of her.
Her responses came between heartfelt sighs. Her brother still wished to worship Dibella it seemed, by the way that he grasped the smaller armored woman who was attempting to subdue him. When he finally erupted, arcing cum onto the woman's face and hair with great force, Robyn gave another sigh.
There was a certain envy that rested in the back of her mind, wishing that it had been herself to experience her brother's offering to Dibella. Instead, she found herself shoved into the back of the cabin with her robes pulled around her for decency, and her exhausted brother asleep beside her.
The other soldiers struggled to keep the woman from leaping onto Garth, and for a moment, Robyn felt pity for her. She couldn't appreciate the wonderful gift that had been given to her, but that pity was quickly drowned in glee as her brother moved to cuddle beside her in the cold, and she in turn rested against him.
This was the start of her first day in Skyrim.
To be continued...