The first time Adraria had laid eyes on him, it had been her last possible hope for survival. Trapped by bandits with no other weapons other than a fragile looking rose staff, it wasn't like it was going to hurt to try. The only thing that was going to hurt was getting gutted by the damn bandits. So she tried the damned thing, and he appeared before her like an angel.

Only, angels didn't have ink black skin and armor that glowed with the power of Oblivion.

The first time Kynval had seen her, he wasn't all that impressed. Long and wavy black hair—though the side of her head was shaved—eyes dark enough to be black, and face full of fear? This wasn't the master he'd been expecting to serve. No matter what he thought of her, he was bound to her staff, and was entrusted with the promise to perish for her.

Adraria's dark eyes were wide as she watched the Dremora take out all the bandits with ease; like their bodies were butter under his Daedric sword. None of his opponents lasted more than a few seconds, and not even in a minute's time, they all lay at his feet spilling their blood.

The raven haired woman stood then, dusting off her ass and avoiding eye contact with the man. So that's what the staff did? The staff with a sparkling glass rose produced a Dremora?

Not something she'd expected. But Skyrim was a weird place after all; she really should have suspected it.

Kynval sheathed his blood stained sword and turned to look at his newest master. She had her back turned to him at the moment, her form bent over one of the bodies as she mumbled "That's mine, Jackass" and he just blinked. How had this mortal fool gotten a hold of Sanguine's staff? She couldn't have possibly won it from his Lord.

On second thought, mortals did the strangest things and gained his favor, so he wasn't all that shocked.

As soon as Adraria claimed all of her previous items, as well as some from the dead bastards, she turned her attention back to the Dremora. Shouldn't he have disappeared or something? Oh gods, she wasn't going to have to take care of him like a pet, was she? Stray dogs had even been too much for her to handle.

He just kept looking at her with those black eyes, blank and waiting for a command like she really was his master. Oh, this was surely going to be awkward. She'd never had a companion before, and for good reason.

"Um, hi," the Imperial said, scratching the shaved part of her head. She never really had the best social skills…

"You are the master of the Sanguine Rose?" Kynval asked, hoping she would say no. Maybe she had stolen it from the true master while he'd been asleep. That seemed a lot more likely.

"Is that what this is called?" she questioned, twirling the staff in her hand and watching the light from the moon hit it, "Makes sense, since it was Sanguine's staff, and there's a rose on it…"

Oh Oblivion, she was the holder of the staff. He couldn't believe this. Now he was committed to life time of servitude to an absolute idiot, just his luck.

"I'm Adraria," said girl said, sticking her small and slim hand out. He only stared at it. Seeing as she wasn't getting a hand shake out of him, she put her arm down.

"If you're not in to shaking hands, you could at least be somewhat polite and tell me your name; unless you want me to just call you 'Dremora'."

Kynval narrowed his eyes at her and contemplated just killing the Imperial. It would be very simple, just a quick slice of his sword. Except, he knew Sanguine wouldn't be very happy. He had talked very highly of her.

Too bad he wasn't seeing any of the redeeming qualities the Daedric Prince had mentioned.

"I am Kynval."

That name was… nice, not at all demonic or evil sounding at all. Adraria sent the Dremora a tentative smile, which went unreturned, before she decided it was best to get out of this area. Where there were bandits, there were bound to be more. Unfortunately, she had a black skinned Dremora to deal with.

"So, Kynval, once you're summoned… is it permanent?"

"No," he said simply, though he had wanted to scream it at her. Oblivion no; if he was to stay on this realm for the rest of his life, he'd surely find a way to kill himself. Mortals weren't good enough to be around for even a moment and he could barely stand it.

"Oh," she replied awkwardly, looking anywhere other than the man that easily towered over her. She silently sent a prayer up to the Divines. Even if he wasn't that much of a talker, she wasn't sure if she could stand those black eyes glaring into her back for the rest of her days.

They didn't talk for the rest of the hour that he stayed in her presence, and Adraria could have sworn when he was being sent away there was a smile on his face. Whatever, she was happy too. No more literal shadow following her.

She'd be sure to never use the damn staff ever again.


The next time Adraria saw him, it had been an accident on her part.

"Damn it, those damn Thalmor are trickier than I realized," the Imperial hissed, trying to stop the bleeding of one of her many wounds; like it was really helping any. There were really too many wounds bleeding at once. Not enough to kill at the moment, but maybe enough to prolong the process.

"Fucking Altmer," Adraria growled, grabbing onto her staff to aid her in getting up, "I just need a little bit of help to the nearest city, and I should be fine…"

It was when she uttered the word "help" that the Sanguine Rose decided to work all on its own. It summoned Kynval in a blue and black portal, uncovering him slowly in wisps of black. When he blinked his eyes and noticed he was no longer in Oblivion, he almost growled out in frustration.

"Mortal, what is it this time?" he sighed and turned around, though the words numbed his lips when he looked over at the woman.

She looked just as surprised as he did, almost as shocked as she had been to learn that the staff produced a Dremora servant. The surprised look didn't last long as she hissed and winced at a pain in her arm and used the staff to help support her.

"I didn't mean to summon you," the raven haired woman forced, trying to stand straight with the aid of her staff/crutch, "I guess it just sort of happened. But, since you're here, mind lending me a hand?"

"I'm a weapon, not a healer," Kynval huffed, though he slowly walked to her side.

"I'm not asking you to heal me," she voiced, "just to help me walk. Whiterun isn't too far away, and they've got the best healers."

With a roll of his dark eyes, Kynval wrapped one of his arms around the Imperial while she carefully weaved her arm through the spikes on his armor. When they'd finally gotten settled, they started to move, but with Adraria's leg wound, the process was a slow one. Oh, for the love of Daedra, this was a humiliating task for a Dremora warrior like himself!

"This would be much easier if I just threw you over my shoulder."

Adraria, eyeing the man's shoulder armor warily, didn't agree with the Dremora.

"I'm sure one of those spikes would impale and kill me."

"All the better," the ink skinned man replied, making Adraria glare.

For the rest of their trip, they hobbled along in mostly silence, with the only sound being the hisses of the injured woman when she placed too much weight on her bad foot. Kynval was growing more impatient by the second, knowing that the city glowing invitingly in the dark wouldn't have taken this long to reach if the damnable woman wasn't hurt. However, he kept his mouth closed and bared the burden, because that's what a Dremora servant did.

Half way to their destination, Adraria tripped over what seemed like nothing, a pained yell coming from her mouth as she stumbled. Her grip on the man tightened, her other arm going to grip his skin and dig her nails in for a hold. He winced at the annoying pain and turned to send daggers at the infuriating Imperial. He'd had enough of this.

"What are you doing?! Put me down, put me down!"

Ignoring the raven haired woman's complaints, he continued to walk with her in his arms, blocking out the curses she sent his way and the names she called him to try and bait him. He only smirked at her discomfort and kept walking, their pace a steady speed that would get them to Whiterun in no time.

Adraria continued her obscenities until they reached the gates, where they turned to mumbles rather than screams. While it would please her greatly to see the guards send the Dremora back to Oblivion, she still needed his help. Causing a commotion and getting guards killed wouldn't help her in the cause to get healed.

The gate guards gave the two a strange look, mostly because there was a damned Dremora trying to enter their city, but guessing it was just some kind of spell and the lady was injured, they let the couple through. Adraria thanked them sweetly and told the ebony colored man where to go. He followed her directions without a word. When they reached the temple, he kicked the door open with his armored foot, more than likely breaking something if the noise he made was any indication.

All the priestesses jumped at the noise the Dremora made, and when they saw his demonic appearance, Adraria was sure that they might just faint. Almost at the same time, the women made hand motions and prayed for their souls. The Imperial giggled while Kynval glared. Idiotic mortals.

"Y-you can lay her right there," the eldest one said, pointing towards an uncomfortable looking stone bed. With a shrug, the man walked over and dumped her onto it, making her groan as she landed on it hard.

"Asshole," Adraria mumbled, rubbing her now sore ass. Kynval only smirked at her, taking his leave to lean against the wall closest to her while two priestesses went to the Imperial reluctantly.

Soon, the golden glow of their healing magic overtook their hands as well as the injured woman's body, blocking her from sight. They stayed like that for a few moments, with beads of sweat starting to gather on the foreheads of the healer, but when they were done, the woman looked good as new.

Adraria thanked the women with a smile, but they made sure to scurry away as soon as they could, pretending they had other business to attend to, though there weren't many other people here besides her. The Imperial turned to gaze at Kynval and gave him a look.

"What?" he asked after a minute.

"Nothing, nothing. Let's get out of here before they get the idea of sending a Divine down here to destroy you."

The Dremora would have liked to see them even try, but instead nodded along with her, walking out of the temple and not even bothering to close the doors behind them. They made their way out of the city without many looks, seeing as how it was late for most of the town's folk, and just continued to walk down the path.

Seeing the woman walking better now suddenly prompted a question out of the man. "What exactly happened to you?"

Adraria, suspicious of his actions, gave the jerk of a Dremora a cold look. "Why do you care?"

"I don't," he scoffed, "I was just curious on who kicked your ass this time."

"Damn Thalmor," she answered, arms crossed over her chest as she thought back to the very short lived battle, "We'd been walking in the same direction for some time, and the entire walk they were sending insults my way, talking about how fucking superior they were. I snapped and attacked."

"And that's when they almost killed you." It wasn't a question.

"Yep," the Imperial said, scratching her head in embarrassment, "Though I took great pride in taking out all of the mage's guards before I had my ass handed to me."

"Mortals are absolute idiots."

"We have idiotic tendencies," Adraria corrected, keeping her eyes on the road, "But we have perseverance, so I feel like that makes up for it."

Adraria expected the man to scoff at her words, but there was only silence behind her. That only happened if he was stunned by her stupidity or was just controlling some rage filled emotion. Confused, she turned around to ask him what was wrong, but found that he was already gone.

"Fine, don't say goodbye," she huffed, turning back around to continue walking, though her shoulders were slumped. In a weird way, his company was enjoyable, though he could make her want to kill herself at times. She guessed a pest of a follower was better than being alone.

With a sigh, she trudged on, looking at her map and eyeing her destination. She'd gotten a pamphlet not too long ago telling her of the opening of a new museum in Dawnstar. She was sure there was some valuable things there, so why not visit and borrow an artifact or two?


After their second encounter, Kynval hadn't been summoned again for at least four months. During the first month, he'd been expecting her to call on him every day for something trivial, like taking care of a wolf or something, but the summon never came. He'd assumed she died, or maybe had lost the staff, but the Dremora wasn't too worried about it. He just continued on with his every day life.

Which, in Oblivion, meant gathering around other Daedra and listening to their wild stories about their tricks on the mortals and how easily they fell. Most of these stories came from Sanguine himself, who could entertain them all with his tales for hundreds of years. Yes, this was the life that Kynval always knew, and it didn't bother him any that the infuriating woman had called upon him.

Almost five months after his last summon, however, he was whisked away in the black and blue portal—mid-drink mind you—and could feel the cold breeze of Skyrim on his neck. He was about to question the reason of his summon, but the words died on his mouth when he recognized where he was and who was standing in front of him with mortal blood staining her sword.

The other Dremora seemed just as surprised to see him there as he was, but the shock only lasted for a second. As soon as she recognized him, a hearty laugh left her black lips that would send chills down any human's spine. Once she was done laughing, she shook her head.

"So, Kynval, you've been brought so low as to serve a mortal?" the Valkynaz chuckled, gripping the sword in her hand tightly, "How lowly, though I never expected much from Sanguine and his court. He's always been so easily impressed by the puny things. Though I have to say, your master was skilled enough to kill my Caitiff."

Turning his head to look over at Adraria, his heart beat uncontrollably in his chest when he saw just how damaged the Imperial was.

There was blood on almost every inch of her body, either smeared or just running down the ivory skin. The source of the red liquid was from the slices on her body that had more than likely been delivered from a Daedric blade. However, knowing how sharp the weapon actually was, he was impressed that she hadn't been cut in half by the greatsword. She'd been quick enough to mostly dodge their attacks, though mostly just wasn't enough. The only weapon she clutched in her hand was a familiar looking dagger. She'd taken care of a Caitiff with just that?

"It was a pleasure, watching all that blood leave her body. Once I'm done with you, it'll be an even bigger pleasure to watch that life liquid leave her body."

"Don't dismiss me so easily, Valkynaz," Kynval growled, pulling out his own greatsword. The woman raised an ebony brow and gave him a smirk.

"You honestly think you can defeat me? You, a lowly Kynval of Sanguine's court while I am a Valkynaz of Dagon's? You stand no chance against me, and I'll be glad to send you back to Oblivion with blood on your lips!"

The female Dremora charged at him then, quicker than she'd ever charged the mortal. Kynval luckily had time to block with his own sword, using his power to push her off of him and attack her. He'd been insulted, and he wasn't about to leave this plain without a fight.

Though she felt weak, Adraria couldn't help but watch the way that the Daedra fought, their speed faster than anyone in Tamriel could ever possess. Their bodies, made from the darkest ebony, had been made for battling mortals as well as their own kind. There was no contest of who was the better fighter. Between the two of them, though, she wasn't quite sure. After watching the woman fight her, she had a feeling she had been true to her word about killing him.

Which meant she had to help. She just had to wait for her magic to come back, then she could do something. She could feel the power recharging in her body, barely half way of where it needed to be. Just a little more and she could help, help send the bitch that did this to her back to where she belonged. Just a little more time.

But when Kynval was pushed to the ground, sword sent skidding a few feet away, Adraria knew she had no more time. What she was supposed to do, she wasn't sure, but it had to be something, or they'd both die.

"You should have just left the human to me," the Valkynaz purred, blade pointed at the man's throat, "then you wouldn't have been sent back to your realm with the embarrassment of being so damn weak."

Kynval growled at the woman and wanted to spit in her face, even though he really didn't have the position to do so. She was right; once she sliced his throat, he would bleed out in this world only to be revived in his, where he'd live with the humiliation of being only a weak Kynval. It was sickening.

The Valkynaz only had the time to prick the Dremora's throat before she was knocked down by a speeding blur that none of them expected. Using all her might, Adraria had charged, silent because of her sneaking skill, and had sent the demon to the ground. She was in the exact same position as Kynval had been in, back to the ground with her only weapon ripped from her hands.

Not wasting any time and ignoring that pain that was ripping through her body, Adraria managed to jump up and away from the downed Dremora. Whispering the words to her strongest spell, a wall of flame circled the Valkynaz, engulfing her in the fire. It took a lot of magic to hold up, but the waste of it was worth the sound of the female's wails of pain before she was sent back to her world, only leaving her discarded sword and Daedra heart as reward.

With the adrenaline gone from her body, Adraria fell to her knees then her side, wincing. The fall had hurt, but not as much as the rediscovered pain of her cuts that left her bleeding out. Worse part, the Imperial was all out of magic, even the little it took to heal herself. And there wasn't a healer for miles. Well, at least she could say that she'd taken down two Dremora before she died. How many warriors could say that?

Quickly sitting up, Kynval went over to the woman and kneeled over her, noticing how pale she was turning. Her dark eyes locked on his and she smiled, though it seemed a little dazed.

"Long time no see," she slurred.

"And once again, you're injured."

"Happens," was all she could say, closing her eyes, "You Dremora… are tough shit."

Kynval actually found himself chuckling. "Yeah, we are."

Taking off his gauntlets, he let a calming breath leave his body before he chanted the words to the only healing spell he knew, though it was a powerful one. Before his eyes, he watched as her cuts healed and color came back to her face. She was still stained in her own blood, but she was looking much healthier. When the magic was gone from his body, Adraria opened her eyes, though they were full of confusion.

"I thought you said you weren't a healer."

"I'm not, but I still know spells of healing so I don't die during battle."

Her confused gaze turned to a glare of anger as she went to sit up, her eyes still locked on his Ebony ones. "You mean, you could have healed me the last time I called you?"

"Yes."

"Why in Oblivion didn't you then?!" she yelled. Yep, she was at full strength again.

"I have a limited amount of magic, and you weren't dying at the time."

Adraria opened her mouth to tell him off, but the words didn't come. Instead, her gaze softened, which in turn confused Kynval.

"Thank you," she mumbled, not looking happy about it, "You know, for saving me. You could have just let me bleed out, but you didn't. So… thanks."

She was right. Kynval could have just watched her die in front of him and been done with her. She would have been lifeless on the ground and he would have been free. No more summons, no more being bothered. Why didn't he just let her die? The fact that he didn't know unnerved him, but he covered it up.

"I would be the laughing stock of all Oblivion if my Master was to die so soon. Sanguine would have my head."

"Oh," Adraria seethed. Of course, it was always about him and how his life would be effected. In the four months they'd been separated, she forgot how much of a dick her Daedra was.

As she sat up and went to collect the Daedra heart and Daedric sword, Kynval's eyes went to the scorch marks on the floor. That had been a pretty powerful attack. Last time he'd seen her, Adraria could barely take care of some bandits. Yet now, she'd killed two of his kind.

"When did you become so good with magic?"

Without even a glance to him, Adraria answered. "I've been studying at the College of Winterhold for the past four months. Professor said I had a knack for magic; who would have known?"

Who would have known, indeed. She was still a mostly defenseless mortal, but she could be labeled as a danger now. Hopefully she could take care of her own battles from now on and stop calling on him.

But even if she could protect herself somewhat, she still got herself in trouble. Look where they were now! At Skyrim's only shrine to the Daedra, Dagon. Fraternizing with Daedra was fine, but even some of the Daedric Princes didn't associate with Dagon.

"And one more question. What the hell made you come up here?"

"This little beauty!" Adraria exclaimed, holding up the bloody dagger that had served the killing blow to the Caitiff, "Before I stumbled across the College, I went to Dawnstar to try and rob this new museum of everything it was worth. The owner told me the story of this dagger and asked me if I could collect the pieces. After learning how powerful it was… how could I resist?"

"And where is this museum keeper? I'm sure he wouldn't let you leave with his prized possession."

The woman gave him a smile like a child would their father after they'd just accomplished something great. "After we came here and he fixed the dagger, he turned on me and was about to kill me, but he wasn't really skilled with a dagger. Let's just say, his body's at the bottom of the stairs with a dagger wound to the heart."

"You know, that's exactly what Dagon wanted."

She shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe, but I got a dagger out of the whole thing!"

Kynval stared at her for a moment before turning around and heading down the stairs, body or no. He wanted to get out of there before Dagon started talking to her. He didn't need to be in that position.

"Hey wait up!"

Adraria easily caught up to him and walked at his pace, stepping over the dead man's body to continue their travels. After four months of mostly solitude, it felt nice to have someone around as a companion. Except the downside was that she knew Kynval wasn't going to stay forever and he was never really happy when she called him. A question popped into her mind.

"What exactly do you do in Oblivion?"

Kynval gave his master a look. What did they do? What kind of question was that? Daedra did whatever the hell the wanted!

"We eat, drink, torture, and listen to stories of the mischief we've caused in Tamriel."

"What kind of mischief have you caused?"

"Well I- I ravaged the land of Cyrodiil during the Oblivion crisis."

Adraria cocked a black brow. "That was 200 years ago."

"Sanguine is the one that goes out and has the most fun, since he is a Daedric Prince and all," Kynval defended.

The two were silent for a while, walking in time though they had no idea where exactly they were going. While she thought, Adraria was wiping the dried blood from her body, though it would take a dip in a river to really get rid of it. Once her genius plan was thought through, she walked forward and stopped in front of the Dremora, causing him to halt.

"You know, we could have our own fun."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"It means what I said! Aren't you sick and tired of just sitting by while others talk of their fun? Would you rather listen or do?"

"I don't like where this is going," Kynval groaned, feeling like their positions had been switched; he was the defenseless mortal and she was the big, bad, deal making Daedra.

"We could be a team, you and I. Mischief and blood would follow us and give us enough stories that would put your Daedra friends to shame."

"That's an idiotic idea." Actually it wasn't, but it wasn't like him to give up this easily.

"Come on, love," she said sweetly, batting her eyelashes at him like she wasn't covered in blood, though it only enticed him more, "When was the last time you did something adventurous? When was the last time you had more than a dozen people's blood on your hands? When was the last time you made someone beg for their life?"

Well, if that wasn't going to persuade him, nothing would. Kynval smirked at her and walked up to Adraria, taking her chin in his large hand as he gave her a chilling stare. "You've got yourself a deal, love."


His summons were frequent after that. Sometimes he was even there for most of Skyrim's day. He would be around for an hour or two before he was called back to his world, but only moments later he was back by Adraria's side. At times, he wasn't sure why, because there was still a lot of traveling to be done before anything really fun happened. Adraria, however, didn't seem to mind his vulgar company, no matter how much she cursed his name and blushed. It brought him great pleasure to cause her discomfort, though when he thought on their companionship too long, he started to get a feeling of fondness for her. As soon as the thought came to his mind, he dispelled it by a rather rude comment that had the Imperial yelling her obscenities at him. A weird partnership indeed.

Together, they reaped all kinds of havoc. When they came across bandit camps or necromancer rituals, Kynval was given the pleasure of sending them to their deaths. With a grin spread across his face, he sliced into them ever so easily, letting the blood stain against his glowing greatsword. Unless needed, Adraria would usually just wait until the threat was gone and take their things to sell later. Both of them were happy with the arrangement they made.

Adraria, however, was the one that got them into trouble. When they hadn't run into any bandits, necromancers, or at the very least vampires, she'd find herself sneaking into town to steal. Eight times out of ten, she'd get out without being seen. But she'd also been caught quite a few times, leading to slaughter on Kynval's part. And sometimes he'd go a little overboard…

Because of this, they'd become famous in their own way. Adraria had squealed in delight when they'd even earned their own wanted posters. Or, she had earned one anyway. She got credit for all the things they did together and was labeled dangerous because she had her own personal Dremora at her side. It irked the man a bit, but he usually got over it as soon as they stumbled across some criminals in the next hold.

The two never really expected the new attention. Their actions had gotten them noticed most places they went, though the guards were usually the only ones they had to worry about, seeing as they lived and breathed justice. Adraria never thought the Thalmor would be on their tail, what with them being busy butting their noses in with the Civil War.

When the Altmer had first started to come after them, they never really needed to worry. There was only the standard three; two guards and one mage. With Kynval as her warrior, Adraria had nothing to worry about. Behind him, she could shoot her own magic and end the fight as quickly as it had begun. The confrontations had left their minds.

Luck couldn't always be with them, though. Fate was an unpleasant bitch, and she had a bone to pick with the couple.

They had been ambushed as soon as they left the city of Falkreath, Adraria's bag filled with goodies though Kynval's blade had sadly stayed in its sheathe. Not even a mile away from the town, they'd been surrounded.

There were dozens of them, all armed to the teeth and ready to take the culprits into justice. Not only were there Thalmor, but Imperial soldiers made their appearance as well. Adraria didn't doubt they could take them, but a little knot of worry had formed in her stomach as she readied her spells. They would be okay, right?

Kynval's Daedric greatsword sliced through them two at a time, its sharp edge cutting into them like a warm knife to butter. He'd laughed as he killed, taunting them with his battles cries, such as "You are weak, mortal!". Even though he said that kind of thing to Adraria all the time.

The Imperial was a little slower on her kills. She used her Destruction magic to the best of her abilities, focusing more on the other mages, who were more of a threat, rather than the soldiers the Thalmor were using as fodder. She'd gotten through a good portion of them when their luck did a flip.

Kynval's body was surround with wisps of black and blue, a thing the two had gotten used to during their travel together. One second he was there, running his sharp blade through an Altmer, the next he was back in his realm. How fucking inconvenient. It left Adraria alone with more than her fair share of enemies and a depleted magic source.

The raven haired women went to reach for the staff at her side, to call her Dremora back to her, but her foes were quicker. One of the few mages left threw a paralyzing spell her way, leaving her fingers an inch away from safety. Once again, she was in a life and death situation.

Kynval looked around Oblivion, shocked that the unpredictable staff had sent him back in the middle of battle. His time in the humanoid realm had always differed, though it usually lasted a little bit longer than an hour. He had always assumed the staff had its own mischievous aura to it and kept him around long enough for him to cause his trouble. But it had never pulled him from a battle.

Though it didn't really matter. Knowing his Imperial master, she was sure to just use the Sanguine Rose once again to call upon him, and he'd be able to finish what he started. Preparing for what was to come, he kept his bloody blade out and waited to be sent back to Skyrim.

Minutes went by, but nothing happened. No dark portal swirled around him to take him back to the side of his master, there was no change of scenery what so ever. Confused, the Dremora continued to wait. Minutes turned into hours, and still nothing happened.

Had the Rose's soul gem used the last of its juices from his previous summoning?

No, that wasn't right. Adraria had plenty of soul gems filled with powerful souls to power the staff. It was one of her priorities, having enough power for her most trusted weapon. There was no way the staff was empty.

But why wasn't he back in Skyrim? He didn't doubt the Imperial could finish off the enemies she had left, no matter how much she left the killing to him. Once she was finished with them, she should have called back for him. She would have summoned him again, shown him how many she had taken care of, and smirked at him. Kynval would then proceed to insult her meager warrior abilities and she would curse at him and threaten to send him back to Oblivion, though she never would. That's how their partnership went.

Which was why it worried him that he wasn't by her side. He would never admit it aloud, because that would be a form of weakness, but he was worried.

Where was she?


Another scream left Adraria's hoarse throat, though it died off before the painful blast of the shock spell was done with her body. Even after the mage had stopped his torment, the aftereffects of the spell still lingered. Adraria's muscles spasmed and ached painfully. If you looked close enough, you could see them violently twitching under her skin.

All the mage bastard did was laugh at her pain. Once she was able, the injured woman sent him a glare, no matter if it was a half-hearted one. He only chuckled and tsked at the woman, coming into the cell where she was chained. He knelt in front of her and lifted her chin up roughly, making her look him directly in the eye while he smirked.

"You're not so scary without your magic and weapons huh?"

"A rabbit is scarier than you, and you still have your magic," Adraria hissed before she spat in his face. She'd done this a time or two when faced with her captors and it always angered them into torturing her until she was unconscious, but this man was different. Even with her spit on his face, he laughed. He wiped it from his eye and laughed at her, and the Imperial had to admit that only pissed her off more.

"Just because you've gotten away with riches and murdered a few guards you think you're so tough, don't you? But chained like a caged animal? It only shows how weak you truly are."

"Say that to me when I'm not chained up, you stupid son of a bitch, and I'll show you who's weak. You hide behind your magic because you couldn't last five minutes in regular combat! Give me a rusty spoon and I could still gut—"

A powerful punch to the stomach left Adraria coughing and sputtering, her dark eyes watering in pain. The Thalmor agent was now sneering at the woman before him, understanding why the ones in charge of her before him couldn't stand the bitch. Still not satisfied, he mumbled the words to a simple flame spell and let the warmth rest in his hands. He covered the woman's mouth with his bare hand, surprising her, while the other hand went to her throat. The instant the fire met her skin she started to scream bloody murder, though it was muffled by the elf's hand. He only did this for a couple seconds, long enough to seriously burn her skin, before he let her go.

Tears escaped the woman's eyes then, and she wanted to sob in defeat, but even the thought of doing so hurt her already aching body. She just kept her head down and let the tears fall. She had no more words for the Thalmor bastard. If they wanted her broken, it was done.

Knowing this, the Altmer smirked and stood up, looking down at the Imperial with a shake of his head. That would keep her in control for now. Or at least until it was time for her to die. There was still more fun to be had with her though.

The man walked out of the little cell, not even bothering to close the gate behind him. She was still chained and in too much pain to escape, he had nothing to worry about. Instead, he went over to the rack that held all the weapons and grabbed ahold of her staff, the strange one that seemed to be made of glass with the beautifully sculpted rose at the top.

"I assume this is what you use to summon the Dremora? I was told you were reaching for this before you were captured. Can any oaf use it, or is it your specialty?"

Adraria didn't answer him, but he hadn't really expect her too, not with what he'd just done to her. It was more a rhetorical question anyway.

"What would happen if I was to summon your little buddy, using my superior magic, hmm? Knowing the stronger power, would he obey me instead? If I asked him to, would he kill you?"

Adraria opened her watery eyes and honestly thought about the question. If he summoned Kynval, and she was sure he could, would he be loyal to him? Did his loyalty rely on the master of the staff? Would he really kill her?

Adraria actually smiled and wanted to laugh, though her thoughts were cynical. She wouldn't be surprised if he did. He's been frustrated with her since the very beginning. He'd done enough not to be humiliated to have his master killed. And wouldn't it be a story right up Sanguine's ally for a Dremora servant to kill his master once he'd gained her trust?

Crazy thing was, she wouldn't blame him if he killed her. She might even smile when he did. She'd remember their times together, remember the vulgar things he'd said to her, and she would smile as he sent that Daedric blade through her heart.

The Thalmor agent, taking her silence as fear, grinned from ear to pointy ear and twirled the staff around in his hand. That would be a beautiful scene. As well, he'd have his own Dremora servant. It would be perfect. With the death the two would bring to Skyrim, he'd climb the power ladder in no time.

With the most concentration he'd ever used, the Altmer sent his magic into the staff. At first, nothing happened as he positioned the staff. However, seconds later, the familiar dark portal took up the floor, summoning the Dremora that the wanted posters talked about. The man was big, bigger than most Nords found here in Skyrim. His armor, blacker than the ebony of his skin, also glowed red with the power of Daedra hearts.

Kynval, not familiar with his surroundings, quickly spun around to yell at Adraria about worrying him sick, though he'd word it a different way. Before her name even left his lips, his black eyes locked onto an Altmer mage holding onto the Sanguine Rose. He gave the man a curious look. Who the hell was this mortal?

"So you did come, the staff works for anyone who is acquainted with magic, even your former master."

Former master? Kynval growled at the thought and stepped forward, anger running through his veins. The mage, however, didn't seem scared in the least. He was cocky, just like the rest. Just his attitude was reason enough to get him killed.

"Ah, ah, don't be so temper mental, Daedra. You serve me now, for I have the staff that summons you."

Was that true? All those months ago, almost a year ago, Kynval had wished it was true. He had wished death upon Adraria, had wanted the staff to fall into someone else's hands. But now that it was, it scared him. And that was hard for a Dremora to admit, even if it was to himself. Was he really so easily bound to another?

"Where is she?" his deep voice demanded in a growl, sounding like an angry bar. The Altmer, still not afraid, only cocked his brow at the man.

"Why do you care? You serve a more powerful master now. You'll do as you're told."

No, he wouldn't. With Adraria, he had felt a connection, the connection of servant to master. It had been almost impossible to detect, but it had been there. She was his master. This man, however, was not. He owed no allegiance to him. He had not gone through the silly trials Sanguine had put the Imperial through. He had only stolen the Rose. That did not warrant him to call himself master.

Kynval pulled his blade from his sheathe, letting the sound of the sliding metal ring throughout the room. When the Dremora started to advance towards the elf, that's when his eyes started to grow in fear. It was almost unnoticeable, but Kynval had keen eyes, had seen fear in others. He could spot it.

"What are you doing, demon? Stop your advancement at once! I am your master, you will heed my word!"

The Thalmor had scuttled back out of fright, but had found himself against the wall, trapped with no other place to go. Kynval's polished sword shone in the light of the room, the pulsing red light that ran through it humming with a blood lust.

"I have only one master," Kynval hissed, holding his blade horizontally, the sharpest edge out. With a wicked grin, he shoved the greatsword into the man's neck. It cut through skin and bone, coming to imbed itself in the wall. The lifeless body fell to the floor, blood still gushing, and the head rolled to the other end of the room.

Snapping out of his blood lust, Kynval searched around the room, trying to find a clue to where his master could be. When he spotted a metal gate to a cell wide open, he knew that's where she was. Sheathing his weapon, he rushed over.

"Adraria," he whispered in horror, stopping in his tracks before he entered the cell.

Bare to the world save for her underclothes, her tortured wounds were bare for anyone to see, tracking all along her body. He could see the marks of many a spark spell, could see cuts from blades. And it didn't stop there. There were welts randomly spread across her body from a whip, bruises in the shape of a hand on many parts of her body, while other massive bruises covered her like a sickly colored tattoo. Her hair, which was a mess as a well, covered her face. She was slumped against the wall, and the only reason he knew she was still alive was the sound of her breathing.

After taking a moment to assess the damage to his master, he rushed back over to her, using his sheer strength to release the chain's hold on her wrist, which had bled from obvious struggle against them. He caught her before she fell to the floor, but his armor was too rough against her delicate body and she cried out, head snapping up to show him the rest of her wounds

Her face was a swollen, beaten mess. She had two black eyes, a swollen cheek, and busted lip. The wound that angered him the most, however, was the still smoking burn across her neck. It was as black as his skin and didn't resemble anything but the curves of the flame. He wanted to touch it but was scared of hurting her further.

"Adraria," he repeated, voice shaky. Her dark eyes seemed to recognize him, and the terror they held turned to relief. She was happy to see him.

"About time you got here," she was able to croak out, though he could tell it hurt her to do so.

"No soon enough," he answered.

"Hey, I'm not dead, right?"

"You stupid fool. Don't you think this is worse than death?"

She pondered on this thought for a moment, and Kynval thought that she was just fighting the pain away, but was proven wrong when she smiled at him again.

"Nah," the Imperial said simply.

"Idiot," Kynval mumbled, focusing on his healing magic. Once again, the healing spell engulfed her body, but the fantastic transformation she'd undergone all those months back did not happen before his eyes again. The cuts healed, the marks left from the sparks spell disappeared, her black eyes vanished, and even some of the swelling went down. The burn and the bloody welts, however, did almost nothing. The welts scabbed, and the black skin started to peel away, but that was it. These would be permanent scars.

"You saved me again."

"I wouldn't have to if you would just stop getting into so much trouble."

"'S'no fun then," she laughed. By Oblivion, she was laughing? Had she gone mad?

"Being dead isn't fun either!" he yelled, feeling like he was scolding a child.

"But I'm not dead. Were you not listening? We went over this already."

"Beaten within an inch of your life and you're still as annoying as ever."

"You love that about me," she answered, closing her eyes and letting out a slow sigh, "But in all honesty, I'm still in a lot of pain. Mind if we get out of here?"

"Of course. Let me find something to cover you."

Adraria nodded her head, wincing as he moved her to the floor from his arms. He gave her a worried glance that she didn't catch and tore the place apart until he found a simple blue robe. It wasn't much, but it was enough to cover her up.

The worst part of the whole thing was getting it on her body. She bit her lips and made her lip wound open again as she tried not to scream, but it was worth it to feel the little warmth the robe provided. Painlessly, Kynval picked up his master and set his vision on finding a way out of the torture chamber.

"Hey, 'nval?"

"What, mortal?" he sighed, though he wasn't really angry at her. He tilted his head to look at her and was surprised when her ivory and crimson lips met his in a kiss. It was soft and short lived. When she pulled away, the blood smeared to Oblivion on her lips, she gave him a smirk.

"Thank you."

With that, she cuddled up to his armored body and fell unconscious. Blinking wide eyes down at the now sleeping woman, Kynval was lost. Why had Adraria kissed him?

The more pressing question, however, was why had he liked it?


When Adraria woke up, she bolted upright from the bed, her dark eyes wide and breathing heavy. Her fear of still being imprisoned by the Thalmor left her as soon as she got a look of her surroundings. A plain wooden wall with a couple artifacts hanging from it, and a standard sized bed in a large room? That mixed in with the noise down stairs gave away that she was at an Inn. Which one, she wasn't sure, but anywhere was better than that damn prison.

But the woman felt no pain in her body, none in the least. Not even the ache in her muscles from the shock she thought would never go away. Had her capture all been some detailed dream?

Throwing the covers from her body and looking down at herself, she was assured that it had not been a dream. The marks, which had been bloody welts on her body had turned to scars on her pale flesh, pink with how fresh they were. Adraria slowly raised a hand to her neck, only to feel the smoothness of another scar, though this one covered almost her entire throat. No, it hadn't been a dream at all.

So, Kynval had rescued her from her worst nightmare. He had saved her life once again. A small smile stained her lips at the thought of the easily irritated Dremora. Was he back in Oblivion, waiting for her to call on him?

Spying around the room, it took the Imperial mere seconds to find the Sanguine Rose, the fragile looking staff leaning against the bedside table. Not wasting a moment, Adraria used it to summon her Dremora servant.

When he came, however, the raven haired woman blushed scarlet and looked away, embarrassed like he'd said one of his usual vulgar comments. Kynval turned around quickly, looking over Adraria's mostly healed form with relief. She looked healthy again.

"You're finally awake."

"How long was I asleep?" Adraria asked, still not looking at the man. But Gods, did she want to.

"A day and a half, at the most," the bare chested Dremora said, giving her a stare, "I paid for a week's stay, just in case."

"Thank you," the woman said gently, looking back up bravely.

She wasn't sure what he had been doing, but by the Gods did she appreciate when she'd interrupted him. Instead of his usual Daedric armor adorning his body, the Dremora was left mostly bare, save for a pair of breeches that strained against his muscled legs. Adraria sure liked the view.

"I'm getting tired of saving you," Kynval sighed, walking over to the bed and sitting down next to her. Adraria moved the blanket up some, feeling a little self-conscious now that she was aware she was sitting in front of him with only her underclothes on. Looks like they'd both come to this party without their usual clothes.

"It's not entirely my fault, you know," Adraria huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You're a damsel in distress, just admit it."

"Damsels in distress don't know how to fight their own battles."

"Neither do you."

Adraria growled and summoned a simple fireball in her hand, only feeling a gentle brush of its warmth. "I will send you back to Oblivion, just like I did with your Dremora friend all those months ago!"

"You'd burn down the whole town."

"It's a sacrifice I'd be willing to make just to grate your nerves."

"You do that already without even speaking."

"By the Gods, you're infuriating!"

"Tell me about it, you're the exact same way," Kynval exclaimed, his own toned arms crossing his muscled chest.

"And to think I was thankful that you saved me. Should have just let the Thalmor kill me so I wouldn't have to deal with you anymore."

"Trust me, I regret saving you as well if you're going to act so ungrateful."

"I thanked you, didn't I?"

"You think a simple 'thank you' is going to make up what you did to me?" Kynval yelled, his eyes raging. Adraria's went wide with confusion before they narrowed in suspicion.

"And what exactly do you mean by that?"

"I'm tired of you finding yourself in dangerous situations!" he explained, gripping her thigh through the blanket harshly, "I'm sick of stumbling upon you half dead. Do you know what that does to me?"

"Gives you hope that I'll soon die off?" the raven haired woman replied sarcastically with the roll of her eyes. That would be just like him, the jack ass that he was.

"No, you thrice damned fool," the Dremora growled, catching her attention again, "It scares me."

With that said, Kynval crashed his lips to Adraria, his ebony hands going to tangle in her matching hair. Surprised and wide eyed, the Imperial didn't respond for a moment. But with his warm lips moving so sensually against hers, it was hard to say no. Slowly letting her eyes flutter closed, Adraria kissed the Dremora back and wrapped her scarred arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.

With another growl, Kynval forced his tongue into the woman's mouth, though she didn't even fight it. He let his tongue explore her mouth, moaning at how sweet she tasted. He'd never been with a mortal before, only his own kind, and the new feel of her sent his emotions wild.

Adraria's senses were overloaded. His huge body pressed against hers, hard as a rock but warm to the touch. Every part of her body that was touching him tingled pleasantly, and all the woman knew was that she wanted more.

She moved her hands from his neck to wrap around his back, her small and nimble fingers kneading into his skin soothingly. Kynval groaned into her mouth and kissed her roughly, forcing her tongue to dance with his while her hands continued to explore his black skin.

When Adraria pulled away, feeling somewhat light headed, Kynval didn't stop. His kisses went to her tender neck. Being gentle of her still healing scar, the Dremora nipped and kissed her flesh, making her moan quietly above him.

"K-Kynval. What are we doing?" Adraria asked, her body quivering in want.

"You're not doing a damn thing," Kynval mumbled angrily against her neck, biting harder to leave and impression of his teeth in her skin, "I'm going to punish you for scaring me, whether you like it or not."

Whether she liked it or not? Could he not tell that she was more than excited for what he was doing to her? He was an oblivious idiot though, even if he didn't think so. She spoke no more, just mewled in delight as he continued to kiss her neck.

While he assaulted her sensitive skin, Kynval's hand moved down her body slowly, letting it linger along her developed curves before it got anywhere close to its destination. He pushed the green covers away, exposing the rest of her body to him even though he couldn't yet see it. His thick fingers brushed along her core, making the Imperial gasp, but he didn't stop there.

Using little of his strength, he ripped the fabric from her, bundling up the damp piece of cotton before throwing it behind him. He didn't care where it landed. All he cared about was the newly exposed skin.

Sitting up slightly, Kynval looked down, admiring her glistening cunt. She'd gotten so wet for him, and he'd only kissed and nipped at her. She was so easily aroused. Guiding his two finger to her entrance, he watched Adraria's flushed face as he pushed his digits deep inside her.

Adraria roared with the pleasure of him, her back automatically arching as her legs clamped around his arm, trying to keep him there even though she knew he wouldn't be leaving any time soon. His dark chuckle only revved her up more. With just one hand, he separated her thighs, spreading her like an offered virgin. His black eyes locked onto hers, seeing the hunger in hers, and he began to pump into her, slowly at first.

Adraria groaned and threw he head back against the pillow, lips pursed to try and quite herself. She'd been with a couple men before, but they'd never been this good. They said they had "fucked her to Oblivion", but they couldn't even compare to the Dremora's fingers twisted inside her. The way his huge fingers fit so well inside of her, made her make room for him, though she could accommodate more. It was intoxicating. She didn't doubt he could fuck her to Oblivion, literally.

Kynval picked up the pace, thrusting into Adraria faster and faster just to watch her face and hear her sounds. Every now and again, she'd make the same sound, almost a yell of pleasure, and by just that he pin pointed her sweet spot, the one that was soon to send her over the edge. Using the pad of his fingers, her brushed against it over each passing, leaving the Imperial gasping. Her hands dug into the blankets underneath her. She felt like if she didn't hold onto something, he would send her flying into the air with the sheer pleasure of his fingers.

When he felt her close to climax, Kynval slowed his efforts, making her walls loosen around his fingers. He did this many times, all the while with a smirk on his face. It had been invigorating at first, but now it was annoying Adraria. Even in her lust filled daze, he could still annoy her.

"Don't toy with me," she snarled, her black eyes fierce. To shut her up, her pressed roughly against her core and made her yell, rendering her "threat" useless.

"You have no power right now Adraria, I suggest you don't make any threats you can't keep. But to indulge you, I'll do as you say."

And all of a sudden he thrust into again, but it wasn't the same. With the speed Adraria had seen him use in battle, he fingered her core. With no mercy he rammed his fingers into her, rubbing against that sweet spot of hers every time.

In a matter of seconds, her orgasm hit. Her body filled itself with so much pleasure that Adraria let out a silent scream, her eyes rolling into the back of her head while her body lifted from the bed, trying to find some release to this new feeling. Kynval held the woman down and continued to pump his digits into her, prolonging her orgasm and finally making her moan.

She was quivering around his fingers, her whole body shaking at the feel. He wasn't stopping, and it felt so good but it was also painful at the same time. The orgasm kept coming and it wouldn't stop, not with how relentless Kynval was being. She was violently shaking on the bed. She might just pass out if she didn't get a moment to rest.

"Stop, stop Kynval!" she groaned. She hated that her voice was still so deep with lust, but the Dremora understood her plea and stopped, slowly pulling his now soaked fingers from her being. He pressed them to his lips and licked them slowly, grunting at the taste of them. No Dremora woman would ever taste this good. He licked his fingers clean as Adraria caught her breath, though she wasn't given too long to rest.

With little effort, the ink skinned Daedra flipped the woman over onto her stomach, causing her to squeal in surprise, though the whole sound was muffled by the pillow. Kynval laid his body on top of hers, letting the woman feel his newly exposed hardness pressed against her ass.

Adraria's eyes widened. Gods, he was huge in both ways. He was so long, she didn't know if he would fit, and so wide he might stretch her until she broke. She tried to be scared, but all the Imperial felt was excitement. She wanted him inside her, even if it meant she would be torn apart. She wanted it so badly.

Kynval's body covered the entirety of Adraria's, trapping her under his weight. If she even tried to break free, it would be impossible. She was trapped by him, just like she had come to trap him.

"I don't know how you do it," he whispered into her ear, nibbling on her lobe, "But you've imprisoned me, trapped me like I'm a criminal. You're my master, so it's to be expected, but how do you make me feel like this?"

He pressed his hard length against Adraria's ass again and she whimpered; not in fear, but in want. It gave him a kind of satisfaction, knowing that he could master her like this, but she was the one with all the power. What had she done to him?

"It's a talent, I guess," she breathed, trying to make a smart ass joke though she really wasn't in the position to do so.

"Do you know what my talent is?"

The jest that came to mind didn't even have the courage to leave her lips, not with how deep Kynval's voice had gotten. He whispered into her ear, a simple question, but it held so much it made the Imperial choke on her words. The Dremora ignored her silence and continued on, biting her soft neck and groaning.

"I always had a talent at making the Dremora women scream."

Right then, he pushed the tip of his hardness into Adraria, making her body tense. By Sanguine, she was the tightest cunt he'd ever been in. No Dremora woman could compare to this feeling, the feeling of flesh walls gripping his cock so hard. Kynval groaned into the woman's ear, covering her small noise of pleasure.

Ever so slowly, the ebony skinned man pushed inside of his master, stopping every now and then to grunt. At first, her body was too tight, like it was trying to keep him out, but her own juices helped him slide along, and her body soon gave into him. Her pussy made room for him and it felt glorious, knowing he had this kind of power. The Daedra continued on until he reached the very end of her, though he still had an inch or so until their bodies met.

Underneath the man, Adraria was still tense, her eyes closed tightly while her fingers fisted the sheets beneath her. She swore at her body for having so many conflicting emotions. She was excited and ready for him to tear her apart, to make her scream like he'd promised, but she'd also been frozen from fear. Was it going to be more pain than it was pleasure? Would he make her bleed like a deflowered virgin? Would he break her in half and still keep going?

There was another part of herself, however, that trusted him not to do that.

You're absolutely crazy, Adraria, she thought to herself, we're talking about a Dremora that's killed too many people to count, who has threatened your life a couple of times. Just because he's saved you, from pain and from your loneliness, you're going to trust him?

Yes, she decided, she was going to trust him. Kynval had done so much for her already, though he didn't know how much. He'd been there for her when she needed him the most. When it came to life and death situations, or quickly running out of a town when they'd been discovered, he'd been there to help. But he'd also done something else. He'd been her friend. An orphan most her life, Adraria didn't understand the meaning of having a friend. For years at a time, she'd spent her life in silence and loneliness. Until one day, she stumbled upon a Daedric Prince in disguise who'd given her a priceless gift.

And that gift was Kynval. He'd saved her. She trusted him.

With tears flowing down her cheeks, not of pain but from happiness, she decided she trusted him enough to take care of her right now.

Kynval could smell her tears, could feel her shoulders shaking softly as she cried. More gently than he'd ever been in his life, he used one of his hands to brush the hair from her neck and lay a soft kiss.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

Adraria smiled, tasting the saltiness of her tears. "I know. I trust you Kynval."

That meant more to him than it should have, he thought. Knowing he had her trust was a great gift. Handing the reins to a Dremora, who'd been known for death and torture, was a risky move. But she did it, and Kynval was happy. What the hell had she done to him?

Kissing her neck one more time, the man started to move, slowly at first. She still needed to get used to his sheer size. He could almost feel the protest of her walls saying they couldn't handle him, but they managed. While he hissed at the feeling of her surrounding him so tightly, her body made even more room, welcomed him with her warmth. And by Oblivion did it feel fucking good.

Adraria was making soft noises into the pillow, biting her lip to try and keep herself quiet. He felt amazing against every part of her, whether it was his hard cock in her pussy or his toned chest against her back, all of him felt so good. He was so warm, felt so fucking good. She wanted more.

She angled her ass higher, pushing that last inch of Kynval into her body, though neither of them was sure how. They both groaned at the feeling, Kynval buried so deep inside of her and Adraria filled to the very brim. It was a perfect fit.

Kynval's arm went to wrap around the raven haired woman's waist, giving himself support as he continued to thrust into her, still slowly and gently. They were moaning together at the combined feel, but it just wasn't enough. But Kynval didn't know if she was ready…

"Stop being a damn pussy and fuck me already," Adraria scolded, sending him a look over her shoulder.

Oh, she was going to regret that.

He fucked her. He didn't stop himself from using his Dremora strength and speed. She had asked for it, and she was going to get it. He rammed into her, each thrust the whole length of his shaft as he nailed into her, reaching her end every time with a slap of their skin. Arm wrapped tight around her waist, he used the leverage to spear into her very core.

Adraria's mouth was open with a silent scream, her dark eyes wide. She couldn't even find the time to breathe, her whole body was focused on what he was doing and how good it felt. After half a minute of not breathing, Adraria was gasping, but only long enough so she could let out a scream of sheer pleasure.

"Kynval!" she cried between her screams, not even bothering to smother the sound in the pillow. Her nails dug mercilessly into the bed, wearing into the soft mattress as the man behind her rocked their intertwined bodies back and forth. And still she continued to scream. His name was the only thing that left her mouth, and damn was it a great sound.

Adraria found her climax then, the pleasure exploding before she realized it had even gotten to the breaking point. Her walls clenched around him, making him snarl, but he continued to thrust into her, fighting her body to prolong her pleasure, but it was hard. She was clenching and releasing around him without even meaning to. His dark eyes rolled into the back of his head, leaving his body to continue to take her.

The woman was whining and groaning and moaning her lust, still riding the high wave of her ecstasy while Kynval continued to fuck her to Oblivion. She was shaking and couldn't stop herself, but she didn't want to.

With another growl, Kynval slowed down, trying to calm himself down. He wasn't ready to come, not yet. He wanted to hear her name come from his lips more, but he was so close. If he was going to cum soon, he wanted to see the euphoria on her face.

"Don't stop," Adraria whimpered when he pulled out, two simple words that almost forced him to keep going. He shook her words from his head and flipped her back over, not wasting a second before he was in her again. He didn't start slow, because her pussy was already ready for him. He resumed his usual pace and watched as the pleasure danced across his master's face.

With new mobility, the Imperial wrapped herself around her Dremora servant; arms wrapped around his neck while her leg wrapped around his thick waist. It made each thrust that much harder and she screamed again, knowing if they kept going for much longer she just might lose her voice.

She was beautiful, Kynval decided. Even with sweat beading on her skin and black hair stuck to her face, she was the most gorgeous thing he'd ever seen. Adraria had been made for him. They were complete opposites in every way. Large and small, ebony and ivory. They were everything the other wasn't, and it made them complete.

How pitiful, Kynval thought to himself with a chuckle, I've fallen for a mortal.

Adraria could feel them both coming to their climax, like she could feel it in the air. Kynval was softly whispering her name between grunts while she was shouting his. He was soon to give her the ultimate pleasure and she smiled.

Feeling it coming, Adraria kissed him, kissed the Dremora for everything she was worth. Their bodies melded in every sense of the word. Wrapped together, they melted. Kynval exploded inside of his lover and shouted into her kiss while she screamed her own orgasm. They ate each other's noises, breathing heavily while their lips were still together.

When Kynval's strength failed him, he fell to the bed, exhausted. He moved to his side, as to not crush Adraria, and lay with his eyes closed, spent. Adraria was still wrapped around him, her body giving a comforting warmth. He pulled out of her slowly, making them both shiver and just laid there, not caring about the mess they had made.

When she could breathe regularly again, Adraria opened her eyes and stared at her Daedra, her hand brushing against his red and black face with a smile.

Talos preserve me, I'm in love with a Dremora.

Kynval opened his eyes and looked down at the mortal below him, that damned fondness coming back into his chest. He wanted to run his fingers through her hair and kiss her and maybe have a repeat process of what they'd just done, but there was still reality they had to take care of.

"This won't last, you know."

Adraria groaned and pulled away from the man, angling her body so she was now looking up at the ceiling instead of his stupid, handsome face.

"Do you know how to ruin a moment or what!" she sighed.

"I'm just trying to think logically—"

"I don't want to think logically right now! All I wanted to do was sit here and cuddle and think about amazing sex and you want to think logically."

"At least one of us has to," Kynval sneered with a roll of his eyes. Yes, the moment was gone. Not that he was too sad about it; he wasn't one for much sappiness.

"Ugh, men!" Adraria huffed, throwing her arms into the air as she got out of bed, though with a pain between her legs, and looked around the room for some remnants of clothes.

"Women," Kynval barked, doing the same as he put on his pants, not even minding the mess on himself.

"No matter how much you wanted to cuddle," the Dremora continued, staring at the still snaked woman with his arms crossed over his chest, "I thought it best to get the reality of our situation through your thick skull."

"I may have a thick skull, but I still understand it! I just wanted to ignore it."

"And for how long?"

"I don't know, for the rest of my life maybe?"

"I will not spend the rest of your life constantly being summoned to your side, sharing my life split between two worlds."

"Fuck off then!" Adraria yelled, hurt, as she found a blue robe to wrap around herself, "You don't want to keep with our agreement, that's fine with me. Go back to Oblivion and live the rest of your endless life there."

"I don't want to!"

"Gods, you're more confusing than a woman!" the Imperial shrieked, turning around with her black eyes blazing, "What do you want?!"

"You, I want you!" Kynval confessed, shocking the woman, "I don't want to travel back and forth between two plains. I want to stay here in this god forsaken place with you, you bumbling idiot."

Face still filled with fury, Adraria stomped over to the Dremora and kissed him, with teeth and tongue; a kiss that only lasted a moment. Pulling away from him, her dark brows were still furrowed.

"I want that too, jack ass."

"Then don't you understand that the thought is almost impossible?" Kynval said, feeling defeated, "My summons are bound to the Sanguine Rose and they are limited. Those were my lord's commands."

"Then we'll change Sanguine's mind."

"Change his mind?" the Dremora asked incredulously, " you expect to be able to just change his mind? The Daedric Prince of hedonistic revelry and debauchery?"

"Yes, I do. Sometimes you forget who you're talking to, Dremora," Adraria said flippantly, pulling away from the man a few paces, "I was his Champion, remember? He's still not sure how I got him to bed a man when we got drunk together. Just… give me a few days and I'll think of something, okay?"

"What am I supposed to do until then?" Kynval asked, brushing his ebony fingers against the shaved part of Adraria's head. She gave him a small smile.

"Try and convince Sanguine to see me in Oblivion. My soon to be plan won't work unless he agrees to it."

"I'll work on it. Don't get your ass kicked while I'm gone."

"I can't promise that," the Imperial said with a smirk, though she watched sadly as Kynval was whisked away back to his world. She was left alone in the room with only the memories there to console her. Hardening herself, she took her staff—the only thing she had left to her name—and snuck out of the Inn without a single soul seeing her.


Adraria stepped into Oblivion with a surprised scream, clutching the staff in her hand as she landed on the ground. Thankfully, she had not fallen over, seeing as that would have been embarrassing. Not like screaming her frights in front of a bunch of Daedra was ideal either, but the Imperial was just thankful.

"Ah, it's good to finally see you again, my Champion," Sanguine said merrily, his disguise gone and leaving him in his original form. He gave her a big grin and she smiled tentatively back.

"I'm honored to be here again," Adraria replied, bowing some at the waist. The Prince only laughed and waved the motion away, silently telling her to stand straight.

"A little birdy told me, very persistently, that you wished to see me. Are you not grateful of the gift I've given you?"

With a quick glance at Kynval, Adraria corrected the Daedric Prince. "No, Sanguine, that's not it at all. The Rose has helped me out in a lot of situations."

"Then why do you stand before me, Champion?"

"To—to ask you to participate in another game, just between the two of us."

Sanguine's brow cocked in question. "Another game. While I do love games, what else could you possibly gain from me? You have the reward I give to those deserving. What else could a mortal like you ask of me?"

"The prize if I win," Adraria started, her nervousness fading away into joy as she sent him a smirk, "is the Dremora Kynval at my side for always."

"You wish to have a permanent Dremora servant? That is quite a bold request! And what will I receive if you lose?"

"My servitude, both in life and in death, and the repossession of the Sanguine Rose."

Adraria didn't dare look at Kynval; she could already feel him glaring daggers into her head and wishing it was his blade. Of course he wasn't going to have any confidence in her, she hadn't told him her plan. She guessed that made it better, it would make it that much sweeter when she won their challenge.

"Oh, I do like those odds! Since this game is set so heavily in my favor, tell me what you have in mind."

"I propose that we set our sights upon a town and cause chaos, though only in a magical form. We only cast spells that we know and not personally interfere."

Sanguine placed a black finger against his dark lips in thought, humming softly for a second before he nodded his head. "This seems fair. I have a town in mind, but do tell, how can we both cast a spell on the same people without them knowing? We could wait a decade, but I don't think you have that kind of time."

Adraria chuckled. "No, no I don't. But one thing I can do is cast a spell to erase their memories. You perform your trick, I wipe them blank, then perform mine. Does this arrangement please you, my Lord?"

"Oh very much so! I haven't had this much fun since I drank you into Oblivion, quite literally," the Daedra giggled, looking ecstatic, "Let us proceed!"

Through another portal they went, though this time it was Sanguine, Kynval, and Adraria that traveled. They landed elegantly on a snowy hill over-looking a small town. It only took the mortal a second to recognize it as Dawnstar.

"I'm sure Vaermina won't mind us causing a ruckus to her town. It'll no doubtfully cause them Nightmares for her to feed on."

The Imperial wasn't familiar with the Daedric Prince he was talking about but nodded her head, looking down at the town before her. It was mid-day, the time of day when the whole town would be busiest. Perfect for their plan.

"Watch a trickster weave his magic right before your very eyes!" the Prince yelled, throwing his hands out and sending a black haze over the town. It was thick at first, almost making it impossible to see the snowy town, but it dissipated into the air minutes later. Nothing happened at first, startling for the Imperial woman, but something happened not too long after.

The three of them watched as the old Black Smith pulled one of the guards out of the street and threw him against the wall. Adraria expected the old geezer to deck him, especially when he took the man's helmet off, but instead they shared a deep kiss. Even from all the way up here, they could hear their loud moans of pleasure.

The raven haired woman blushed as she watched the whole entire town do the same. And as if compelled to make love in the snow, all the patrons and town's folk flooded the streets, their moans and groans and shouts of pleasure mixing together to shake the whole town.

Sanguine cackled evilly. "Oh, this will surely be fun! This reminds of a time during the Oblivion Crisis, where my Champion stripped all the men and women at a party of their clothes! It had been so much fun to watch."

It was a bit embarrassing, watching the town go at each other for hours and hours without a pause. The most embarrassing part was that she felt compelled to be a part of it, though she only wanted one man to take her body. She chanced a glance over at her Kynval and he gave her a smirk despite their situation.

"Does this turn you on?" he mouthed, licking his lips.

"Shut your fucking mouth," she mouthed back, turning back to the scene with her arms crossed and scowl on her face.

It wasn't until the beginning of dark that the spell finally left their bodies, leaving the men and women very aware of what they'd done. At first they were cold and confused, finding themselves bare of any clothes and in the snow, but the realization of what they'd all just done claimed them and there was indeed chaos.

"Absolutely brilliant, if I do say so myself!" Sanguine sighed in happiness, turning to give a grin to his Champion, "And now, it is your turn. Cast your memory spell and then proceed with your plan."

That's when Adraria gave the man a huge smile while scratching the shaved side of her head, almost like she was embarrassed, though the men could tell that was a lie.

"Well, you see, I don't even think such a spell exists. And if it does, I don't know of it."

"Then you lose this game. Why would you propose such a thing if you knew you couldn't win."

"My contribution to all of this is the aftereffects of your spell. Had I known a memory spell, your work would have been washed away. But since I don't, they get to remember this day for the rest of their lives. Because of me, they'll live in shame, embarrassment, and anger. And as bonus points, I tricked a Daedric Prince to play a game with me."

Kynval was waiting for Sanguine to explode, to jump on the woman like an angry bear and rip her to shreds for tricking him. What he didn't expect, however, was for the silly fool to laugh, laugh harder than he had in a very long time.

Adraria didn't seem surprised in the least. She was still smiling like she had told him the funniest joke. The Prince wiped a couple tears from his face once his laughter had died down and smiled a big smile at his Champion.

"Well done my girl! I guess I should have suspected something like this. You tricked me once before, you could easily trick me again. I'll indulge you. For tricking me and bringing your own madness to this game, you win your prize. From now on, this Kynval is at your side. You might get sick of him, but killing him will only bring him closer to your side. I will be a little hurt that I couldn't have your soul, though…"

He was gone with that, left in a portal of darkness that would take him back to his realm. As well, the Sanguine Rose disappeared from Adraria's grasp. She guess she didn't need it, she had her Dremora warrior right there.

"I can't believe you actually did it," Kynval said, beyond impressed. Adraria gave him a hurt look and turned to face him, hands on her hips.

"And I can't believe you didn't believe in me!"

"With the record you hold for things going your way? I had good reason not to believe in you."

"I change my mind, I don't want you anymore. Go tell Sanguine to take you back."

Kynval shook his head and pulled Adraria closer to him, resting his forehead against hers. "The more you push me away, the closer I get."

"I should have thought this whole situation through," the Imperial sighed, though there was a smile lighting up her lips. Kynval chuckled and kissed her, missing the feel of her lips on his.

"You're stuck with me now."

"Thank Sanguine," the woman said softly in gratitude, pressing her lips back against her Dremora's.


A/N: My. God. You have absolutely no idea how much time and effort I put into this One-Shot. I started it a while back, confused about how it would go, and wrote it on and off. And in a complicated process, I lost most of what I wrote and was forced to start it all over again. Thankfully, I'd sent a huge segment to my friend and that helped me not just give up on this. So here you have it, my Dremora one-shot!

After doing Sanguine's quest and using my Dremora, I couldn't stop staring at him. He was sooooo hot. And I wanted to write something about him :3 So here it is, 14,000 words later. Reviews for my hard work? I hope you all liked it!