Sim'baja sat up in his bed within Castle Dawnguard, his night vision automatically adjusting to the darkness that had fallen once the candles had burned themselves out. It was slightly cold in the enormous fortress, but his fur kept it at bay even as he padded barefoot through the halls down to the forge. Within minutes there was the sharp ring of hammer on metal as he began creating another Dwarven Crossbow for the members of the organization. The orange metal began to take shape, turning into a golden hue, and after another hour or two, he had the basic weapon down. He tossed it lazily onto the workbench, making a mental note to string it in the morning after he further refined it, before he sat down on the small seat in front of the grinding stone, staring into the coals of the forge.
"You don't strike me as the kind who would avoid a chance to catch a little catnap," Serana's voice said playfully, and he turned to look at her blankly as she snickered at her pun. "No? Sorry." She leaned sat on top of the short stone wall across from him, gazing into the embers as well. "I do miss heat," she said simply. "I'm content with what I am, proud of my powers… but I miss the feel of heat on my skin." She glanced at him, noting that he still had barely moved, said not a word. "So what's got you up? Is it the Lycanthropy, or…?"
"Khajiit has not slept well since Solstheim," Sim'baja replied. "When this one closes his eyes, the image of Storn Crag-Strider's demise haunts him still. Hermaeus Mora slaughtered him, pure and simple, and this one lead the man to his doom."
"I know how you feel, but you have to remember that people die every day. It is the way of things. Do you think that living past entire Ages has been easy for me? The people I cared about died long ago, and the only family I had left became corrupted by their goals."
"Valar Morghulis" he muttered to himself. "This one is through with the Dark Brotherhood. Khajiit has lost a loved one to its treachery, and he has been forced to kill perfectly innocent people. Why was the Black Sacrament performed for a Bosmer who ran a stall at the market to sell meat? Why was it performed for a harmless old man who was driven mad and into homelessness by his sister's death?" He shook his head. "It is one thing to kill men on the battlefield, another entirely to slaughter them like sheep." He rose to his feet, rolling his neck as he strode back to his bed.
Ingjard had fuller breasts that the Dawnguard armor made it seem. Sim'baja felt their heat nearly roasting him as he thrust between them, his rough paws tracing patterns on their sensitive flesh while his tail rubbed against her shaved mound. The woman came hard, grunting as she clamped her thighs around his tail, her body quivering as she rode her orgasm. Sim'baja released her breasts, quickly moving down, prying open her legs until he was kneeling between her thighs, pressing against her at just enough of an angle so that she could feel the force behind it, but it wasn't in her yet. "Now," she growled out, grabbing his hips. "Get in me NOW!" He complied, thrusting into her with one swift move, before he began to tap out a rhythm that was as fast as it was hard. The woman's eyes rolled back, her toes curled, and she screamed obscenities that even he found impressive as she came yet again. In an instant however, he suddenly felt a strong arm on his shoulders, and he let out a rather unmanly yelp as he was thrown onto his back and the woman began riding him.
"What's wrong?" she asked, her breasts bouncing up and down in time with her movements. "Is the little kitty afraid of a strong Nord woman?" He moved to sit up, but she moved forward, lashing his wrists to the bedpost with some leather strips he hadn't seen laying around. "My turn," she said, a worrisome glint in her eye.
"Khajiit feels violated," he told Serana the next day, shivering slightly as he saw Ingjard pass through one of the halls and out of sight. Serana giggled slightly at that, shaking her head.
"How does it feel to not be in control of sex for once?" she asked, nudging his rib with an elbow. He gave her a flat look, and her giggles turned into full-blown laughter, the vampire barely managing to stay in her chair with how was doubled over.
"Khajiit fails to see how this is so funny," he replied, turning back toward his breakfast.
Mossy Glen Cave wasn't really that bad once the bears were cleared out. At the very least, it seemed that Beleval enjoyed it; the moment they had finished killing the bears after she had dragged him along with instructions from Isran to clear out the place, she had dropped to her knees and yanked his trousers down around his ankles so fast his belt nearly caught his manhood and took it with it. Before he could yelp in surprise she had taken him into her mouth, quickly bobbing and working her throat to make him hard. She yanked at the straps on her armor as she did so, quickly revealing that she didn't wear any undergarments whatsoever. Well, Bosmer are known for being close to nature, he thought.
The moment he was hard, Beleval moved away, quickly getting on her hands and knees in front of him. Within a moment he was thrusting into her, the woman grunting for the first few minutes as she adjusted to him, before she started panting. "Come on, faster, faster!" she groaned, her hair covering what little of her face he could see from this angle, and he obliged, moving faster and thrusting harder, his grip on her full hips tightening. "Right there, right there… don't stop…" she managed to gasp out. Sim'baja grinned slightly, mentally comparing her to another Bosmer girl he had been with (it had been the night before that fateful Cleansing) and finding the experience even more interesting. "FUCK!" she suddenly shouted, making him jump slightly, before she suddenly became a vice around him, preventing him from moving as he shouted out, the walls coaxing his own release from his body.
It was an hour later when he was deep inside her other hole in the same position that Sorine happened to stumble upon them. Her expression shifted from curiosity into shock, quickly transforming to amusement. "Well, I guess I know why you two have been taking so long," she said, a devilish smile crossing her lips. "Mind if I join?"
"You're making that up," Serana said a few weeks later as they ate a regular meal of venison in Castle Volkihar.
"Khajiit wishes," he replied, shaking his head. "It is the kind of thing men dream of, but when it is with women whose craziness seems to exist only in intimate action, it can quickly become a nightmare."
"Well, they did join the Dawnguard," she replied, managing to keep a straight face.
"THEY SHAVED THIS ONE'S LEGS AFTER THEY WERE DONE!" he shouted. "THIS ONE IS A KHAJIIT! DO YOU KNOW JUST HOW MUCH FUR IS ON HIS BODY?!"
"Significantly less now, I'd imagine." To her credit, she managed to finish the sentence before bursting out into hysterical laughter. Tears began falling from her eyes when she heard him mutter that the growing hair itched. "I still don't know why you keep getting yourself into all this trouble. Is the sex really worth it?"
"You do realize it is sex you are asking about?" he responded. "You've never enjoyed it?" At his question, her expression instantly darkened.
"What was your first time like, Sim'baja?"
"Like anyone else's. Nothing worth bragging about. There was a young Khajiit girl at a trading post in Elsweyr just a little older than this one. She sucked, then we fucked."
"The first Daughter of Coldharbour became so after she was raped by Molag Bal. When he was finished with her, a drop of his blood fell on her brow and transformed her. Ever since then, the same ritual has been used to create those of the pureblood line. My first time was being raped by a Daedric Prince, and after that experience I never felt the need to try it again."
"Apologies," he began, "Khajiit did not-"
"I know," she said quickly, her tone brusque. "I don't want to talk about it. It's over and done with. I'm fine with my Vampirism." He nodded, his eyes fixed on his food, waiting for the continuation that he knew would have to come. It must come if she ever wants to move past it. His patience was rewarded. "Besides, my father… my father has been repaid for that debt. I just…" her shoulders began shaking, and Sim'baja realized there were tears in her eyes. "How could he just… just let that demon do that to his own wife and child?!" By the time she was finished he had maneuvered his way around the table, gently enveloping her in a warm embrace as she cried into his chest. He gently lifted her from her seat, carrying her throughout the cavernous halls until he found her room. He gently deposited her on her bed as her sobs turned into the light breathing of someone asleep, and he left, quietly closing her door before starting the search for a normal bed inside the coffin-filled castle.
He spent a few weeks longer in Castle Volkihar, conversing with Serana and trying to help her talk through some of her different traumas. While he knew that her family had been disturbed, it came as an enormous shock to learn of some of the atrocities that Harkon had committed to his own child. Between the neglect, the attacks on his daughter's self-esteem, the all-consuming prophecy, and the cutthroat politics of his court, it was amazing that she had managed to mold herself into the woman she was. They spoke of hopes and dreams, their fears and regrets; he told her of how the endless war was still taxing on him, even after Ulfric's death, of his dreams of having a family of his own. She told him of what little she remembered of life before Vampirism, of the few good memories she had of her family, of how she shared a similar dream of a family. There was a call for him to perform a contract for the Dark Brotherhood, and he left, disappearing for almost a full month. When he returned, there was something in his eyes that Serana had never seen before, and he quietly told her that the assassins would be carrying on without him.
From the time of Ulfric's death, there was a period of approximately two years where the final days of the Civil War continued without him. Because of the duel, Ulfric alone had died, so Galmar had made a bid to take over the Stormcloaks. The revolutionaries had lacked the Empire's discipline, however, and Galmar was unsuccessful; the Stormcloaks broke into a number of smaller factions under various leaders, and the Imperials swept in, slaying those who would not surrender and granting quiet pardons to those who did, doing their best to keep the Thalmor under control. During this time, Sim'baja spent his time alternating between his duties with Skyrim's various guilds and spending time with Serana. They developed something akin to a relationship, though it was more platonic than romantic. There was one awkward occasion when she walked in on him when he was bathing, but they quickly moved past that.
It was as rumors were beginning to swirl of another war with the Dominion that the night came. It had started uneventful; dressed in a set of robes he had received from the College of Winterhold, he had simply been sitting in a room that they had found for him, on one of only five actual beds in the entire castle, reading a translated Falmer text when Serana showed up, the dying embers casting ruddy shadows across her pale skin. "Is there something Khajiit can assist with?" he asked confusedly, glancing at the layered time candle that told him it was somewhere near midnight.
"I'm having a difficult time trying to find the words to explain my presence here," she said, self-consciously rubbing her arm. "I know we've been getting closer these past two years, and I've been thinking about all of our conversations. I… you've helped me get past so much, especially my ordeal with Molag Bal, and… by the twin moons, I'm terrible at this." He opened his mouth to try and encourage her, but she just waved her hand, pacing slightly as she tried to order her thoughts, he watching with an amused grin. "I don't want my only experience with sex to be rape. I… I want to try it with you."
"Are you sure?" he asked, setting aside his book and leaning forward. "Serana, you know of my history. Khajiit would not do you justice with this."
"I know I wouldn't be just another notch on a belt with you," she said, burying her face to try and hide a non-existent blush. "Your history at least indicates that you are… pleasurable to be with. I just… I don't know anyone else besides my greatest friend that I could trust."
The compliment hit him like a boulder to chest, and for almost a full minute he found it impossible to respond. When he did, it was by slowly approaching her and carefully pulling her hands away from her face. As he gazed up into her eyes, it struck him just how much taller she was, as the top of his head barely came up to her chin. Curse the shortness of the Khajiit, he thought to himself, before he reached up and brought her lips down to meet his. She melted into the kiss, tears already beginning to trickle down her cheeks, and he slowly placed his hands on her waist, gently guiding her backward with him. When he felt his legs brush the bed, he carefully turned, sitting her down next to him. This has to be soft, he thought, gently pulling away and leaving a trail of kisses across her jaw to her neck. That accursed Daedra made it torment, so I must make it soft. He heard her gasp as he reached the sweet spot, gently nipping at it before he slowly began running his hands up the back of her corset, feeling out the laces.
Thanks to his nimble fingers, they were undone in a fair time, and her cape came off quickly after, leaving her in the maroon tunic and black pants. He began tracing his way downward, nipping at the juncture between her collarbones, before ghosting his lips across her chest, just above the swell of her breasts. Serana gasped slightly once more, before she quickly began undoing the belts and ties of his College Robes. It took only a few minutes for her to strip him to the waist, before he began working on the lacings at the neck of her tunic. The fabric began to fall away, revealing more and more of her breasts until he stopped just before they were completely revealed. She looked at him in a confused manner before his hands slipped into the waistline of her trousers, pulling her closer as his lips met hers yet again as he gently pushed her onto her back.
He began working her trousers off her legs, pausing when he managed to get them halfway down her thighs when he saw she had refrained from wearing anything underneath. Well, she was planning this, he thought to himself before fully removing them. Serana moaned as he ran his hands softly along her smooth legs, biting her lip as he got closer to the juncture of her thighs. He gently nipped at them, before circling her mound and kissing his way up her abdomen, lifting the hem of her shirt. She looked disappointed for a moment that he had skipped around her folds, before her head was thrown back as his tail slithered in, the soft fur prodding and rubbing away. He slowly kissed his way up higher, pulling the shirt with him until he stopped just below her breasts, pulling back and removing his own trousers and undergarments.
By the time that was done, Serana had done away with her tunic, leaving them both stripped. He took in her full chest with its blood-red nipples, the pale and smooth skin. She almost hungrily devoured the sight of his own body, licking her lips slightly, her fangs peeking out. "Let's try and keep those fangs away from anything important, eh?" he joked, and she smiled for a moment, a before the grin turned wicked as her hand wrapped around him.
"I don't know," she said, pumping slightly, "I might want to keep a little souvenir."
"It is by no means little," he replied, and he pulled back, positioning himself against the entrance. He pushed forward slightly, the tip sinking in, and Serana's expression became nervous. "Hey," he whispered, stopping and gently placing a hand on her cheek. "Say the word and Khajiit will stop." She shook her head, wrapping her trembling legs around his waist, before she bit her lip and nodded. "You are sure?" he asked. Again, she nodded, gently pulling him forward with her legs until he moved on his own, slowly sinking all the way in. Serana cried out for a moment, unaccustomed to any kind of sexual activity after the ritual, and he waited as she slowly adjusted, shifting slightly until she was comfortable, before laying back completely.
Sim'baja gently leaned over, pressing his body close to hers as he gently kissed her lips, wiping the tears away. "Are you alright?" he asked softly. She nodded, kissing him back, and he began to move, slowly at first, before she began murmuring for him to move faster. The entire time he was as close as he could be to her, letting her feel the warmth of his body, the comfort of their proximity. Everything he could think of to ease her mind was done, and soon enough Serana's eyes suddenly widened before they were clenched tightly shut, and he felt her body quiver as she achieved orgasm. A single tear managed to work its way out, running down the side of her face, but her expression was one of contentment, and they shared another soft kiss.
When the sun finally rose, they had both managed to reach satisfaction several times. Serana was curled into his side, gently running a hand over his chest, while his breathing slowed, his eyelids drooping closed every few seconds. "Khajiit must sleep," he murmured, and Serana chuckled quietly, her voice slightly hoarse from screaming.
"I'd imagine so, after all that activity."
"So… where do we stand now?" Sim'baja asked, trying to keep himself awake for a few more precious minutes.
"I'm… not sure," Serana admitted, her expression becoming uncertain. "We're certainly very close, and I'm happy about that. However, I don't think I'm ready for a family at this point. In terms of my immortality and resultant lifespan, everything with my old family is still too fresh for me to be ready for that."
"Well, Khajiit would be willing to wait."
"That's not fair to you," she responded almost instantly. "Sim'baja, your life will always be one of danger, and there's no guarantee you'll make it long enough for me to be ready. Even then, it could be decades, and you might not be able to raise a family. Your life is so much more valuable because of the short time you have. Please, promise me you'll look for happiness instead of waiting on mine."
Sim'baja turned to look at Serana, his eyes burning as he tried to keep them open. He thought of what she said, of his own mortality and her immortality, and knew that, while they were certainly close, and would always be almost frighteningly close, they might not ever be the kind of close that would be needed for a family. So, he let out a sigh, and murmured one last thing before sleep took him.
"As you wish."