Blood-Kin
Lily knew Phane had expired when his body went limp and what was left of his bowels released. She smiled. It was appropriate, she thought, that such a vile man should take his final rest in his own filth. The Nord slowly rose and surveyed the silent hall.
The bodies were spread wide, covering the floor from wall to wall. Some had foolishly sought escape, perhaps going mad and thinking they could run away from what was happening inside them. It made her laugh, a hollow sound that echoed in the stillness. None moved, their twitching and convulsing halted.
Turning back to the man who had tormented her for months, she took up a knife and sliced through the leather thongs holding the briar seed pod inside his chest, and pocketed the thing. He gave nothing of value in life; perhaps Mother Murbul would benefit from the alchemical qualities his heart might possess.
Though she wished to take her leave as quickly as possible, and put this hated place as far behind her as her feet could carry her, there were yet promises to keep. The gauntlets she bought at so dear a cost were still in that chest, and she had vowed twice in her captivity to restore the shrine of Dibella. Sighing with resignation, she fetched buckets and filled them at the cistern, then made her slow way up to the top level of the fortress.
She paused at the door to her former prison, and fought a brief battle before turning the handle and entering. He was dead, she reminded herself. They all were. There were none to attack her, none to abuse her, none alive who even knew what happened in this place. Swallowing, she opened the door and stepped inside.
Her hands shook as she swept the animal remains from the altar and out the door. She choked down tears as she scrubbed at the dried blood and other crusted fluids that stained the altar and the statue itself.
How could the goddess lie so basely? There was no comfort in the sort of love she influenced. No pleasure in it. No dignity. Was Dibella just as fooled as Lily had been? Were they both victims of men's lies?
When the last vestiges of the Forsworn's defilement had been cleansed, and Lily was able to look upon the goddess's beautiful form with satisfaction in her work, she felt something stir in her mind.
You are a fulfiller of promises, child.
She started, and whirled around, searching for the speaker, but she was alone. Staring at the shrine, she thought she must have gone mad.
Fulfill your promise. Seek Murbul's aid, lest you continue to suffer what was done.
"What... who speaks?" Lily whispered.
You know me. You carry Phane's curse within you. Go quickly. Let nothing divert your steps.
"I do not understand," she replied. But she did, even as the words left her mouth. The thought horrified her.
I can give you nothing more. You belong to another now.
"Who?" she begged. "Who do I belong to?"
The Prince of Orcs, Father of the Sworn Oath. You have pleased him. Seek his favor in Dushnikh Yal.
Lily realized she had sunk to her knees. A sob came from her. "Please. Tell me. Why are such lies told to women?"
Child, the voice said softly, for it was fading away, no lies were told.
Nagrub almost didn't recognize the woman who approached the front gate, so long had it been since she left, and so changed was she. The Nord wore a ragged dress and filthy boots, and clutched a bundle to her breast as if it were a precious treasure. When she looked up at him, he was unsettled by her eyes.
He hastened to open the gate, and stood aside as she shuffled past. Pausing, she turned her head slightly toward him and said in a cold voice, "I have returned. Tell Chief Burguk I did not fail."
The Orsimer secured the gate and ran to the longhouse where Chief Burguk was taking his evening meal. He spared a single glance behind before entering; the woman stood where he left her, unmoving.
"Chief," Nagrub said in the front room of the longhouse. "She's back."
"Who?" the chief asked with little interest as he cut his meat. Shel sat beside him, one hand spooning broth into her mouth, the other stroking Burguk's thigh.
"The Nord," his son replied.
Chief Burguk vaulted off the bench and spun around. "Lily?" Nagrub nodded. "Has she...?" Again, the Orc nodded. A look of triumphant relief crossed Burguk's face. "Gather our people at the fire. All of them."
Nagrub blocked his father's exit, holding his gaze for a moment. "Something is wrong," he said quietly. "She is... dead inside."
The chief stared at him, unsure. But if she had the gauntlets... Shaking himself, he brushed past his son and bolted out the door. Shel rose haughtily, glared at Nagrub, and followed her husband.
The chief strode swiftly across the dusty ground toward the slight figure. His hands shook eagerly.
"Lily of Markarth," he said in greeting, a smile upon his face. Yet as he neared, he was startled by her reaction. She cringed, and stepped back, maintaining a distance of several feet between them. She would not look him in the eyes, and her manner told him not to demand it of her. He halted. "It is good to see you well," he said awkwardly.
"I am alive," she replied.
"I have called the hold together," he said. "It is a great thing you have done." Frowning, he wondered if she would loose her hold on the bundle he assumed concealed the gauntlets, so tightly did she grip them.
The Orcs of Dushnikh Yal began to gather as Nagrub ran from one end to the other calling them out. Even the ones on the walls were excused from their vigils for such an important event.
None were prepared when Ghorbash saw her, and rushed over. Her departing words had haunted him for weeks; he'd feared for her safety every day and night for months. He'd seen her face whenever he closed his eyes. To see her whole and alive and here at last... He hurried up to her and heedlessly embraced her.
The woman exploded, flailing her limbs and screaming at the top of her lungs. She tore herself free of his arms, fell to the ground, and kicked at his legs, forcing him to retreat out of reach. All the while, she held the bundle before her as a shield and wept hysterically.
No one moved. Ghorbash stared at her in confusion and shame for having frightened her so. He exchanged an alarmed look with his brother. Murbul shouldered past him and knelt beside the Nord woman.
"Child," she said softly.
Lily slowly raised her wet, red-rimmed eyes to the elderly Orsimer's, and choked back her tears. Murbul needed no words spoken. She closed her eyes and bowed her head. She slowly rose and turned toward her son.
"Finish your business quickly, Burguk," she snapped.
The chieftain crouched down before the prone woman, wincing when she flinched. "Lily. Have you found them? The gauntlets?"
She nodded, and unfolded her arms stiffly, allowing the bundle to roll onto the ground. The Orc reached for them slowly, for it seemed any sudden move he made caused her distress. He pulled the bundle toward him, and opened the cloth.
His face twitched as he struggled to contain his emotions. He reverently lifted the gauntlets in both hands. Even holding them, he could feel the tingle across his skin from their enchantment. Rising, he turned to the people of his stronghold, his wives, his sons, and held the gauntlets out before him.
"Gharol," he said thickly, his voice shaking slightly. An Orsimer woman stepped forward. "It is my fault Lash ran away. I did not recognize... I did not listen. Here." He pressed the gauntlets into Gharol's hands. "Pour your heart into a blade for our child. I would have her know... she is welcome back if she... I will listen when she speaks."
The woman's yellow eyes glistened. "You honor me, my husband." Turning to Lily, she said, "And I honor you, Lily of Markarth." She bowed respectfully. "Burguk. It would please me to discuss this with you tonight."
"As you will," the chieftain replied gently, taking her hand and pressing his lips to her knuckles.
"What of me?" Shel snarled, pushing her way to the front. Several of the Orcs gathered there growled in contempt. "It is I who best pleases you, Burguk." As if to illustrate, she pulled the front of her dress down to expose both breasts. "I bear the scars of your pleasure, husband! She bears none!"
Gharol raised an eyebrow. "They are old, but I have them. I am simply more dignified in my possession." Sighing, she looked the fuming third wife up and down for a moment. "All here know of my love for Burguk. I have nothing to prove."
A laugh rippled through the stillness, and Arob approached, shoulders shaking with mirth. "Burguk, you have lost your touch if you still have not tamed that wench."
"I will hear no more of it," he snapped. "Shel, you will bed down elsewhere tonight. Gharol and I have... catching up to do." Turning an apologetic eye to Arob, he said, "I suspect there are... words we would share as well."
"If you think you are up to it, old man," she said with a grin, and punched his shoulder.
Chief Burguk chuckled. An entertainment in bed Shel certainly was, but out of it, there was nothing to recommend her. He cursed the day he accepted the woman as part of that trade agreement with Mor Khazgur. Chief Larak's daughter had proved to be more trouble than she was worth. Burguk longed for better days, when it was just him and his first two wives. They never felt threatened by one another, never held anger in their hearts for more than a day before resolving disputes on their own without using him as a shield or a weapon. Not like Shel.
Shaking himself, he turned once more to the crumpled Nord on the ground at his feet.
"Rise, Lily of Markarth," he said solemnly. She obeyed him. Bereft of the bundle, she wrapped her arms about herself protectively. It pained the chieftain to see it. "You have succeeded in the task set for you. Let it be known in Dushnikh Yal, and all other strongholds across Skyrim, that you are Blood-Kin. The gates are open to you."
A cheer went up among the Orcs, and they raised their fists in the air. The sound of their voices made Lily flinch, but she held still.
As they dispersed to their evening chores, Burguk took his mother aside. "Tend her. I suspect she paid a bitter price for this."
"More than you know," Murbul growled harshly. The elder Orsimer gently guided Lily by the elbow to her hut by the guard tower near the front gates. "You do not need to tell me, child," Murbul told the Nord woman once they were out of earshot of all others. "Your face speaks your pain."
"I need something to kill the thing he put in my body," Lily murmured. "If it slays me as well, it is no matter. I have fulfilled my oath and my promises."
"There is one here who would be terribly displeased if anything should happen to you," Murbul said. "Sit. What I must do for you requires much preparation, and it will not be pleasant."
"I brought this for you," she replied, removing the briar heart from her pocket. "He no longer needed it."
Grimacing, the Orsimer healer accepted the vile object. While it was a much sought-after ingredient, this particular one stunk of shame and horror. "I hope you paid him well for his deeds."
"He and all his men," Lily said. Her voice lacked any emotion at all, so different from the girl who left here not two months ago.
Murbul winced. So it was worse than she thought. She furiously pounded the necessary herbs into a fine powder. "One day, you will not hate my son for sending you. I will not be angry if today is not that day."
"I do not hate him," the Nord woman said. "My hate is for those who harmed me, and they are now dead. All dead. Every last one. And their wives, for they were cruel to me."
"They are not the only ones who are dead," Murbul said gently. "But you survived, and you shall live again." Taking a deep breath, the old woman turned toward Lily. "This is the unpleasant part. The paste must be put inside you, to do its work. Just... lie back. I will do my best not to hurt you, but it may sting."
Lily shrugged, then did as she was told. She had spent so much time with her legs apart and vile things happening between them that this would be nothing.
Murbul was startled by the neat row of cuts spaced close together, encircling her thigh. "What is this?" she asked. Some were fresher than others, but none seemed older than a few months.
"That is Phane's tally of my fucking," the Nord replied dully. "He wished to keep count."
There were many things Murbul had seen during her long life, some more horrible than others. The marks made upon this woman, and the purpose of them, filled her with revulsion. She could not rid the woman of the final insult fast enough, and generously slathered the paste inside Lily's womb.
"You may cramp, when your body expels its contagion," she remarked. "But then it will be over, and you will be cleansed."
"I shall never be clean," Lily replied. "I scrubbed and scrubbed, but I could still feel everything. Not like her statue. The filth came off easily enough. But I can't seem to stop feeling it, no matter what I do."
"Statue?"
"Dibella. There was a shrine in his chambers. They all took me at her feet. So often." She looked down at her leg, now covered again by the skirt of her dress. "So many times, I would not recall had he not thoughtfully kept an accounting for me, lest I forget."
Murbul could stand it no more, and embraced the woman. She felt momentary resistance, a shudder, then Lily dissolved in tears such as she had not shed in months. She gripped the Orsimer fiercely and wailed her shame and torment to the heavens. Murbul joined her in weeping, as if the woman were her own child.
While Lily was tended by Murbul, Burguk addressed his men in the longhouse, his brother scowling at his side. "I do not know exactly the price paid, but it was costly. You will all keep your distance from Lily. Do not approach her unannounced, do not touch her." Looking at Ghorbash with narrowed eyes, he said, "You will heed my words, brother?"
"Aye," he replied. "I will."
"Good," the chief said, satisfied. "On the matter of her being a Nord and a woman, it is my will that she is to remain untouched until she desires it. I will not repeat this. Even one violation will be swiftly dealt with. I will defer to her in the matter of what is and what is not a violation, not any of you." Again, he looked to his brother.
Ghorbash winced. He was a fool to confide in his brother his attraction to Lily, even more a fool to allow his passions to take command in front of the entire stronghold. None would forget her reaction to his embrace.
"Understood, chieftain," he snarled.
"Nagrub, you and Arob have the watch tonight. See to it."
The men filed out, leaving Burguk alone with Ghorbash. "She is changed," the chieftain said quietly.
"Aye," Ghorbash replied, rubbing his face roughly.
"Not for the better, to my mind."
"No."
"You still want her?"
"With all I am," Ghorbash insisted.
"If my guess is right," Burguk growled, "your suit will not be welcomed. No one's will."
"I am patient," his brother replied. "Malacath guided her steps back to me. He will soften her heart."
Burguk snorted in disbelief. "You have been too long away from Murbul's teachings. Malacath does not 'soften' anything."
"I swore an oath, brother," Ghorbash said.
"What exactly did you swear?"
"To be her sword, her shield, her teacher, her student... the wind on her face, the earth at her feet, the fire in her heart, the rain on her body."
The chieftain's eyebrows rose. "You saw her less than ten minutes before she left."
"It was enough."
Burguk took a deep breath and let it out slowly, smiling. "Such were the thoughts I had when I first laid eyes on Gharol. It is the fault of our father, you know. His eyes saw differently."
"True," Ghorbash agreed, chuckling. "So do we."
His brother sighed and shook his head. "Go gently, then. Watch over her. Mind your temper and your lust. Neither will win her."
"I am not blind, nor am I a whelp set loose upon the world for the first time, Burguk," Ghorbash growled. "I know what I must do."
"Then you are one step ahead of me," the chieftain said. "It has been too long since I last wooed. You face a steep climb. There is the matter of our race as well. Do not forget that, to most, there is no man uglier than an Orc."
"Yet she sought us," Ghorbash said.
"Not for that, she didn't," Burguk replied. "She came to us for refuge. Not a husband."
"Would you allow it?" his brother asked. "Or would you send us away?"
Burguk furrowed his brow in thought, considering. "She is not Orsimer, and you do not seek my place. And you are my brother." A half smile curved one side of his mouth. "Yes, if you manage to defy reason and win her heart, you may have her as wife, and you may stay. You have my word."
"The chieftain's word is law," Ghorbash said, bowing.
