"Ugh, I have such a headache..." Sindrel groaned, pushing back from her desk. Scrolls littered the surface of it before her. "I need a break from this mess!"
Having spent only an hour on her studies at the mage's guild in Chorrol, she was about to give up for the day to go outside. Her dremora companion she called Val sat upon one of the beds meant for lower ranking guild members and students. Sindrel dropped her head back, still leaning back in her chair, looking at him from upside down. Sharpening his claymore, he paid no attention to her existance.
"Hey, Val. What do dremora do for fun?" she asked, sitting up and turning about in the chair to face him.
He ignored her, grating the wetstone against his blade with steady sure strokes.
"Huh? Whatcha do for fun?"
More silence from him, save for the sound of stone to metal.
"Hmmm? Fun. What's fun for you?"
He stopped sharpening his blade. With an irritated look, he stood up, walked around the bed to face away from her, sat down, and continued back to his sharpening.
"Aw, come on, V, tell me!" Sindrel whined playfully, getting up to join him on the bed and peer at him from behind his armored shoulder. She draped her arm over his shoulder and down his chest armor in such a familiar way that she knew it would get to him.
And it did.
She felt him tense up under her embrace. Attempting to release himself, the Valkynaz went to stand again. Sindrel's previously loose arms flexed and clamped down on his armor, letting him know he was not to move. She didn't need to see his face to know how enraged he was.
Her arms loosened once he reluctantly planted himself back in the spot he attempted to flee from. A thought of mischief floated into her mind. Snaking her hand back up the armor, she entangled it into his midnight black locks. It always surprised her how much softer his hair was than it looked. Her playful stroking became genuine pets to marvel the feel. This made him tenser. She giggled and leaned into him for a whisper against his ear. Her lips brushed his ear ever so slightly as she opened them to speak. "If you're not going to tell me what you do for fun, then I'll just have to make assumptions. And I think I know what the two of us can do together… Alone…"
The dremora was now shaking under her grasp, though from what, she didn't know. She couldn't begin to assume what he was thinking. Perhaps she went too far?
For her, if there wasn't a verbal reaction from him, then it was never far enough. She ventured to place her other hand on his thigh while the hand she had in his hair dragged its way up to fondle one of the horns protruding from his head. Gently, she touched the ridges of the horn, tracing the smooth spiral up to its tip.
Now this produced a reaction.
The dremora shot forward fast on onto his feet with such speed to turn and look down at her that Sindrel almost fell off the bed. She quickly steadied herself and sat back upon the bed, looking up to find piercing eyes. His eyes, locked upon hers, were smoldering with what she believed to be utter abhorrence. Her devious grin never faltered, that is, until he spoke in a low and even voice.
"Have you ever been fucked so violently that the threat of death lingers over you?"
Sindrel was taken aback, not so much by his question, but by the sheer gravity of his tone. It was meant to sound like a threat, but there was a fear of something more. Apprehension tingled in her mind when he began to bend down towards her, descending slowly and precisely like a sabrecat stalking its prey. A blush tinted her cheeks; as such an intrusive stare hadn't been directed at her in many years. Her mind was blanking while she was trapped in a stare with those coal painted eyes.
"What's going on here?"
The gaze between them broke. Sindrel turned to see a colleague of the mage's guild eyeing them curiously. The Breton woman laughed heartily, shattering the silence. She stood and slapped her daedric companion on the shoulder, ignoring the pain of hitting her hands against his daedric armor.
"Oh Val, you silly goose, your dremora jokes are too much for me!" Sindrel shook her hand to wave away the uneasiness in the air before walking towards the door. She ignored the mage as she walked past him, disregarding the fact that he was possibly a superior. A snap of her fingers and a glance over her shoulder at the Valkynaz told him to follow. He grunted furiously, but obeyed.
The young mage woman strolled out into the streets of Chorrol, past the great tree in the center of the square, and towards the gates. The guards looked on nervously as they watched the Valkynaz stomp angrily behind her. She skipped along down the road a ways with him trailing behind her until there was no one within sight. The Breton spun around and looked up mischievously at her daedric companion.
"Let's play a little game," Sindrel suggested deviously, locking her hands together behind her back and playfully kicking a small pebble. "Hide and seek is always fun."
"…." The daedric warrior frowned down at her, folding his arms in front of him in the most un-amused stance he could muster.
"OH! How about tag?" she suggested excitedly, jumping up and down childishly and grinning like an idiot. Still, he said nothing.
"You're right, hide and seek would be better indeed," Sindrel thought aloud, though he said nothing. "So the rules are simple. You hide, and I shall seek you out. It'll be good fun!"
He glared down at her with a look of disbelief.
It never phased her decision.
"Alright, I will give you to the count of thirty and then I will track you down," she told him, walking up to a nearby tree. Placing her face to the bark and her hands over her eyes, she began counting. At the count of three, she paused and turned back around when she didn't hear him move. He still stood his ground, glaring at her.
She frowned and brought up a fist threateningly that hummed and crackled with electric current. Her voice slowed and deepened menacingly, emphasizing her seriousness, as she continued to count.
He sneered at her, and stomped off into the forest.
With a smile, Sindrel turned back to the tree and continued counting loudly. At thirty, she spun about, finding herself completely alone in the woods. Crouching down to where her dremora companion once stood, she studied the ground closely. Almost too easily, she spotted the indent of his heavy armored boots in the moss and dirt. Twigs were broken and leaves flattened along the trail of the tracks leading away.
"Let the hunt begin."
Like a skilled predator, Sindrel slinked through the woods as quiet as she could, placing her footsteps deftly upon mossy patches and avoiding the noisy twigs or dried leaves. His trail was very straight forward, only turning to avoid the obstacles of the terrain. Sindrel was about to wish for him to play along, until she came to a little babbling brook. The tracks outlined clearly in the mud, leading straight into the water, yet did not continue out upon the other bank.
The Breton cocked an eyebrow, impressed with his little trick. How clever of him, masking his trail with water.
For a good three minutes, Sindrel analyzed the water and the tracks. She glanced down stream a bit, and then up. Almost unnoticeable, Sindrel caught sight of a hint that revealed his direction. There was a slight discoloration in the water, from upturned silt and mud further upstream. Sindrel giggled and continued alongside the brook towards the source.
Within ten minutes, she caught sight of him through the brush and trees, still stomping through the water. Sindrel bent low, watching him look about as he continued on. She decided then that she would stalk him for a while.
And she did.
For more than an hour, Sindrel ducked about logs, rocks, and trees silently, following her target. The Valkynaz had left the cover of water when he came to a deep pool it ran out from, opting to continue on around it. Every so often, the dremora would look around, either to see if anyone was around or to gage his surroundings. He was definitely lost, but obviously didn't care. If he peered over his shoulder or looked behind him, Sindrel was quick to veil herself with her surroundings. It helped that she kept a good stone's throw distance between them.
At some point, a wild pair of imps took notice of the wandering dremora and flew at him to attack. Sindrel thought perhaps she should come out to help, but the Valkynaz made quick work of the creatures with a few shots of a fire spell. Close to the dremora's spot were the crumbled pillars of a destroyed Oblivion Gate. For a bit, the dremora went over to investigate, finding the charred ground had begun to grow life again with patches of grass. Sindrel quietly recounted the fact that she had closed that gate months back while on her way to Chorrol. She knew now exactly where they were.
Watching quietly from her nook between the tree and boulder she took cover from, she saw the Valkynaz slowly touch one of the pillars. Running his hand over the burnt engraved runes still left upon it, Sindrel saw that he had almost a forlorn look about him. Briefly concerned, she wondered if he missed home. The shadowing woman was left unanswered as the dremora turned back and continued on.
Not too long after, the dremora came to a winding forest road. As he stepped out upon the worn dirt path, he looked down both directions casually. Folding his arms upon his chest, he stood, facing down the eastern trail. Sindrel thought perhaps she could sneak up and give him a scare, tiptoeing closer to the road.
She was only ten feet from the road when a familiar sound caught her ear. A second later, the Valkynaz growled out in pain as an arrow embedded deep into his back, sending him down to one knee. A lucky and critical shot from a forest ranger from the west side of the road found a weak point in the dremora's backside of his armor. Alarmed and switching to a defensive mode, Sindrel drew her dagger from her boot and leapt out of the brush and onto the road, slashing a second arrow off course from hitting the dremora again. Her dremora.
"Stand down, he is with me," Sindrel called to the ranger.
"You would dare help this fiendish daedra? Are you with the Mythic Dawn?" the ranger demanded, obviously keen on the happening outside of the great forest. He held his bow, taut with a third arrow, aimed at her as he approached for a closer look.
"You had best lower that bow," she warned, her dagger at the ready. "Not only am I not a member of that cult, but we have done nothing wrong here. I am merely a conjurer practicing my arts."
"Then it wouldn't matter if he dies, if he is only a summon," the ranger, an imperial with musty brown hair, still held her in his aim with great suspicion. "Not too long back, there was an Oblivion gate around here so the presence of daedra is not tolerated in this area. Banish the foul creature."
"I will do as I please, and I do not feel the need to banish him," Sindrel told him icily. The Valkynaz staggered back to his feet, ignoring the two in a standoff behind him. The dremora's movement startled the ranger and he took aim at the dremora again, letting his third arrow fly.
Sindrel tossed her dagger up, catching it by the blade before hurling it into the ranger's chest. Surprised her knife throwing skills came through, she watched the man crumple to the forest road after a few lurching steps, gurgling out his death wheeze. The dagger had pierced the man's lung and he quickly drowned from the blood that filled it. Her attention switched from the dead man and back to the dremora lord behind her. A sigh of relief passed through her when she saw the third arrow had missed its mark, or at least ricocheted off the dremora's pauldron.
"Are you okay?" Sindrel asked, touching his shoulder and peering around to see his face.
"You killed that man," his gruff voice stating a fact rather than questioning her. "That could have been avoided if you had just banished me."
Sindrel frowned, standing back up and looking at the corpse on the road. Wordlessly, she went over, pulling her dagger out and wiping it clean. After sheathing the blade, she grabbed the body by the legs and dragged it off into the woods a ways to where no one could see it. Thinking she could make it look like a robbery gone wrong, she took anything that looked worth a few septims such as his boots, bow, a necklace, and of course what gold he carried. She also found that he carried a second set of clothes, including a clean silk shirt, which she grabbed. Taking advantage of the body, she placed her lips to the wound her dagger made, lapping up a good mouthful of blood. He wouldn't need it anymore and she would be a very wasteful vampire if she didn't have a good drink from him. A couple of fallen branches of leaves did the trick of covering up the body. Soon, the dead man would decay to bones and be forgotten to the world.
Rejoining her companion, she had him sit down again slowly before kneeling to inspect the wound. The arrow didn't go through his body, so she had to pull it out. Thankfully, it didn't put up much resistance and slid out clean enough. The arrowhead was not too thick, which made it easier.
After a bit of urging, Sindrel got the dremora to remove his cuirass. Drenched with blood after having removed the arrow, she peeled his underarmor away from the skin to inspect the wound. Blood pulsed out of the gash, trickling down ebony muscle. Staring at it for a second, Sindrel was tempted to give it taste. Her face flushed at the temptation. It would continue bleeding if she didn't dress it. Tearing the silk shirt into strips, she gently wrapped it. She helped his replace his armor and they began back towards Chorrol along the Black Road.
To better care for him, Sindrel opted to rent out a room from the inn instead of stay at the mages' guild that night, knowing they'd have more privacy and less questions to answer for. Of course, this meant dressing up the dremora lord as a large Dunmer with a heavy cloak to hide his horns and most of his face. Once the room was paid for, she ushered the dremora quickly to the room and away from prying eyes. She went back out only to call for a pitcher of hot water.
The Valkynaz silently sat upon the small bed, half naked as Sindrel had commanded. He watched her labor with clean linen rags in a bowl of hot water on the floor, wringing them of excess water. Approaching him, she signaled him to turn around. He lazily shifted on the bed until he faced away from her. Tender fingers touched around on his back muscles accompanied by warm, wet dabs of the linen. It was very soothing feeling.
"I'm sorry," he heard her say. He didn't know why she would say it, nor did he know why she bothered healing him. "I didn't mean for you to get injured. I should have been with you. It looks far less suspicious when you're following me."
"It doesn't matter," he told her gruffly. Her fingers moved lower with the dabbing, cleaning up the blood that had oozed down his back. The fingers were warm like the wet linen. Normally they are cold due to her vampirism. He wagered she had a quick drink from the dead man.
Sindrel finish up, drying his back before dressing the wound properly with ointment and gauze. She stopped him when he went to replace his armor.
"You should let it breath during the night," she told him, grabbing for his armor to pull it away. He seized her by the wrist and shifted back towards her.
"Why are you doting upon me for such a minuscule flesh wound?" he demanded, irritated he could not wear his armor. Like most of his kind, he felt exposed without his armor and weapon. She reddened faintly while he still held her wrist.
"Y-You are my companion and so you're in my care," she stammered under his stare. "I don't like you being hurt."
He released her and she pulled back a foot. She blinked at him, unsure of how to react. Finally, he turned away, setting his equipment down next to the bed. Sindrel stood, going to the table to place the linens and bowl of water upon it.
"I need to gather my things from the guild, but I'll return," she said softly. Before heading through the door, she looked at him and smiled. "Try and get some rest, I still plan on leaving tomorrow and heading to Skingrad on horseback."
The Breton woman disappeared through the door, closing it behind her.
The Valkynaz lounged upon the bed, completely ignoring the throbbing pain of his wound. He remembered instead how her gentle slender fingers felt upon his back. Soon, he was recalling the sensation of those fingers upon his scalp and around his horns. To fondle a dremora's horns as she did was a very intimate gesture. He didn't expect her to realize this, yet her earlier teasing was leading to conflicting sensations within his body. Thinking about it began to annoy him. He attempted to sleep upon his stomach like he was instructed.
Damn, it's been a while, hasn't it? I hate how life can be like that. Mostly school, but a good chunk of being uninspired to write. Bah! I want to finish my Xelian/Sindrel stories and so now I'm pushing myself to write! Expect more within the next few months! :D
By the way guys, what story would you like me to update next? I have a couple more short stories in the mix, or should I work on Not Without Thought or Hunter & Prey? I've posted a poll on my profile to see what you guys want the most, so go vote it up! I greatly appreciate feedback too so I know I'm not getting sloppy. :)