Welcome, internet, to StunningFlash's epic Elder Scrolls fan-fiction saga. Keeping up with the tradition, this one's going to be quite steamy, although for a change of pace, this one is much more well-written. I've deleted the original "Seductive Forsworn" story in order to make something much better out of a decent idea. And just a fair warning, something horrible happens sexually in this first chapter (and it probably won't after that), so if you're sensitive to this sort of stuff, don't read it or skip this chapter. I've tried to describe it in a not-so-gruesome way and it's downplayed, but it's still there. It does also get steamy at the end of the story (after the horrible thing is done-and-over of course) and it will get even steamier in the chapters to come. This fan-fic definitely warrants an M rating, so please keep that in mind. With that all said, please enjoy!
Image credit: Agregor, DeviantArt
Chapter 1: Kian the Barefoot Leader
Kian was a strong Forsworn girl. Not only was she part of the barbarian cult, she was a leader of one of their smaller tribes. She was strong not in combat or physical prowess, but in mind and will. But that wasn't all she needed to have become a leader as she was. No, in her power-hungry crusade, she used the power of persuasion with her sharp tongue (which she would also use for other things than speaking) and of course, her beautiful, tall body. She possessed just the right combination of proportion and slickness, having a tall body with rather pale skin (which was common for the likes of her, a breed of nord and breton), slim arms, legs and torso and a larger than average -but firm- buttock and breasts which jiggled slightly when she walked, drawing the eyes of the many men in her command as if they were a spell of seduction on their own, though spells never were a thing Kian could ever get a good handle on, even for an incredibly smart, half-breton girl.
Kian had to work with what she had, and she had a lot, in her mind and body, she only had to use it in the right way. Another striking feature of hers was the long tail of hair which was now eroding from her head as she released the binds that held it all together. Her long, blond, winded hair fluttered in the air, reflecting the last of the sun's light as it was preparing to disappear beneath the crags and tops of the Drudach Mountains, which housed the cliff on which the beautiful city of Markarth stood, built by the dwemer centuries ago. (Relatively) happy residents now walked up and down the city, shopkeepers bartering, smiths clacking away at the envil, and so did the poor miners inside the Cidhna mine, clacking with pickaxes onto the rough surfaces of silver veins. Markarth, the main city of the Reach was Kian's goal, as it was of all Forsworn, since the Forsworn were once the natives of the land they now still reside, in much larger numbers. They used to own the city, they used to own the land. They wanted it all back, everything that was taken from them so long ago. But Kian wasn't like all the other Forsworn, she intended to be at the helm, a figurative crown placed upon her blistering gold hair. That's when she would smile, but it wouldn't stop there. Kian, the strong, power-hungry Forsworn girl.
She walked trough her small village -which resided on a small cliff, conveniently hidden by spruce trees- on the pine-spiked floors with bare feet, as she always did. She returned from her hunt, carrying a small rodent on her shoulder, a gashing wound on his stomach and piercing the spine. Kian wasn't much use in combat, that's why she tended to avoid it when possible, she did know however, how to wield a dagger and knew how to wield it well. She always walked barefoot. It made her long, slim legs look more prominent, but more importantly than that, it enabled her incredible sneaking skill. Not a single tap was ever heard beneath her feet (unless she had to make herself known). Her light weight and a small ring with a dark-toned sapphire helped ensure that she was incredibly silent when it came to movement.
She walked to the center of the encampment where a moderately sized fire was now burning. It lit up her face. She threw the rodent on the nearby table where the village cook would take care of the meat before leaving it in the hands of the scorching flames.
Kian sat down by the fire and reached her arms and legs toward the fire to warm up. Her soles and toes felt specially cold, so she turned her feet to face the fire.
"Oh, chief, came back early today, did ya'?", a voice said from behind. It was the cook.
She turned her head toward him "The prey's on the table, Duach," she said. "The animal was wounded and it didn't take long. Then I came back because my feet were feeling cold," She turned back.
"Ah." The cook walked to the table and glanced at the prey. It wasn't much, but he knew she wasn't able to do much better and she only did it every day to show her care for the clan, since she could hardly do any other physical work. She was a good leader though. And a damn fine looking one at that. He crossed his hairy arms on his sizable belly and asked "Are you hungry? Havin' dinner with the rest of us tonight?"
"No thanks," Kian said "Going to sleep early tonight. Tomorrow's going to be a long day." The daily hunting and the bringing back of various rabbits, raccoons, foxes or whatever the wilds had to offer was little more than a tactic of hers, to keep the respect of the 14-membered tribe she led. That didn't mean she didn't care for the tribe though. She had gotten quite attached to the clan and its various characters, in fact. She had been with them since she was 16, after her own tribe was mercilessly slaughtered by the imperial guard under the order of Jarl Jagmun. It was then, when she ran from her now burning place of upbringing that she'd stumbled upon the small Forsworn encampment (like her old home) known as Pine Rock. For a while, she only observed them, using the very things in the name to hide her presence, she hid behind the large surrounding rocks and slept on the inner branches of the pine trees. Then, she thought of a plan, when observing the tribe's drunken, unintelligent leader, who kept his lead only with coercion. He had a large, masculine body and was not afraid to bash in the skulls of those who opposed him with his bare fists. His name was Agrip and he had his own resting place (where Kian now lives in present time) inside a small cave beyond the tall rocks at the far end of the cliff. She one day heard Agrip yelling at his subordinates about a draft inside his sleeping chamber. Kian was good an excellent climber and so she waited for night time, when the leader went inside for his rest and then made her way climbing to the top of a pine tree, jumping and latching onto the mountain wall. She then searched for a crack in the wall, since if there had been a draft, there also had to be a hole trough which it was coming trough. The crack was not hard to find, since a light eminated from inside. She found it to be just the right size for her underage self to squeeze trough, but first, she had to look around to find some sort of sharp object to use for ending the cheif's life. she noticed a rusted elven dagger that lay in a corner. She got ready to climb trough, then suddenly, she was noticed.
Agrip looked up above him and on his face, confusion could be seen at first. But that confusion soon turned into a smile. And ugly smile with brows furrowed.
"You're not from the tribe, are you?", he said. Kian stayed silent. "No, I'd recognize a pretty girl like you. We don't have those kinds of pretty girls in our tribe. Why don't you come down here and tell me your name?"
She knew this meant bad business, but she meant to go trough with her plan. She swallowed, breathed in, then squeezed trough the small crack, then jumped down onto the floor, her feet making a making a barely audible splash; a small stream of water ran from the wall, spilling on the smoothened rocks below. "My name is Kian," she said.
"Kian," he said with an evil grin, "A beautiful name. Tell me, what's a pretty girl like you doin' here?" Agrip had no interest in knowing why she was here, to him, this was an incredibly gorgeous girl walking willingly into his domain alone, giving him freedom to do with her just as he pleased. And what he intended to do was not pretty. He bit his lip and walked closer.
Kian didn't say anything, but she knew what he wanted and what he was going to do. She looked at him aggresively and smiled. She slowly backed towards the wall, but she needed to distract him. She reached behind her with her hands and slowly started to remove her small top, keeping Agrip's eyes on her breasts which now lifted upward as she started sliding off the garments which still bore the blood of her dead family, so many days later. She felt the rusted blade with her heel and crouched slightly as she slid her top over her head, just enough to quickly pick up the blade and hide it behind her back.
Agrip walked slowly toward her, his smile widening even more. Then suddenly, he took a quick, angry step and hit her with his strong fist, making it flash before her eyes. The dagger flew out of her hand, bounced on the wall and then clanged on the floor. Whimpering, she lost balance and stumbled onto the floor. He grabbed her by the hair hair and pulled her up.
"I want to heard you scream," he said, before hitting her again, "I want you to scream like a lamb before death," but Kian didn't, she couldn't even if she wanted too, her body full of shock.
"Alright then!", he said tightening his grip, "Let's cut right to the chase then." He pushed down his garments to reveal his penis rising from a whack of black hair. He held her still for a moment, then violently shoved her head forward, his erection plunging inside her mouth. Tears poured from her eyes and Agrip laughed. She felt a flash of anger overcome her and she sucked back intensively, making him arch back and groan, losing his concentration. While it came as a surprise, he let her pleasure him, he would strangle her to death later anyway. Desperate, she felt the floor with her hands for the dagger, hoping to find it laying somewhere within her reach. She was very lucky that day, not only did the fearless chief completely miss the dagger when it fell, it came down right where Kian needed it to be. Too distracted by the disgraceful act to notice, Kian gripped the dagger, lifted her arm and hastily planted the blade inside his chest.
Agrip screamed, now in pain, and fell on his ass. His side hit the floor and he coughed blood from his mouth. Kian reached over to him on all fours, the chief's blood splattered and dripping on her bare chest and stomach, grabbed the dagger with her both hands, struggling for a moment, then pulling it out with strength, falling back slightly as blood erupted from Agrip's chest like an Eastmarch geyser. he looked at her with wide eyes, full of shock, horrified.
She tightened her palms around the handle once more, gasping and crying, before lounging once more, missing his neck in a daze and striking his arm. He reached out his other hand in a desperate attempt, grabbing her neck, trying to squeeze, but being held back by the growing pain. She pulled out the blade and swung it wildly at his hand, drawing a new crimson wound and making him loose grip, right before stabbing one final time, aiming for the neck. This time, she did not miss.
The next day, the tribe members woke up to Kian sitting on top of their leader's bloody corpse in the middle of the village, where the chief was later berried and where they later built fireplace so that his body would burn forever. All Kian wanted was to be accepted into the clan, regardless of her weak physique, but she was not only granted that, she was proclaimed leader.
All this flashed trough her mind again, as it did every day. Her hands and feet were now getting warm enough from the fire and she stood up.
"I'm going to sleep," she said and grabbed a torch from the rack, lit it up in the fire and left for the cavern, now her home, the place where all those events transpired three years ago. She lit the fireplace inside her room (it was installed trough the crack trough which she had first made her way into the cavern). And discarded her minimal, almost revealing wear onto the bed. The small stream of water running from the wall was used to fill up a small hole that her male subordinates (who were all infatuated with her) helped her create. The water was usually quite clear and clean and she used it to bathe every day. She lay into the water and shivered a little at first, the water came from the mountains above, which meant in was pure and completely drinkable, but also extremely cold. She Dragged her hands over her arms, back, behind, rubbed her legs and feet, then her stomach and breasts, an action which lasted a while longer then the other body parts. Kian found she got aroused easily when relaxed and alone. She reached her hands down to finally wash her private parts, but the water was too cold to go any farther. While her sexual attractiveness was a clear advantage which she used more than once, her sexual attraction was her weakness. At least that's how she had it in her mind. It sometimes helped with performance, but usually hindered her and prevented her from doing more important things. She refused dinner tonight so she could go back to her cavern and fall victim to her own needs.
She ducked her head underwater and ran her fingers trough her shining gold hair, then lifted her naked, glistening body from the water, grabbed a wooly lamb pelt and dryed herself off. She walked over to her bed on the cold stone floor and slipped under the cover of a soft blanket. The tribe had lots of them, since they were part of the invaluable loot they'd pillaged from a bypassing caravan eighteen months ago. She sighed softly, awaiting for the blanket's warmth to surround her body. She slid her hand under the covers and ran her fingers over her breasts. Her nipples were erect. She sighed again, ran the tip of her tongue over the thumb and index finger of her other hand and moved it under the cover as well. While one hand stayed on her cold breasts, rubbing and warming them, the other went straight to her private area, lightly sliding her wet finger over the midsection and felt it moisturise. She sighed once more, this time letting out a sliver of her voice.
The day moved on and only by the time Masser and Sekunda were showing their faces and the tribe was finishing its dinner would Kian cling to the sheets and clench her toes, letting herself give in and release her pleasures, trying to hold back her voice and barely succeeding. When she had to do it to herself, her rational part saw it as training for when she would have to seduce and exhaust to reach her goals, but she knew she was mainly doing it because her body wanted it. It wanted pleasure. Lots of other Forsworn girls were pregnant by the time they were 16. She was to be one of them, her past tribe decided, but it was burned down before than could happen. If it did, I probably wouldn't be alive right now, she thought, a virgin wiping her dirty fingers onto the sheets.
She turned on her stomach, orgasmic warmth still surrounding her body, then spread her legs apart and shut her eyes. At least it helps me fall asleep, she thought.