Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Bethesda Studios and I own nothing at all except for the OC and plot. There is no profit made at all, really.
Summary: Because there was a deeper, darker version of Dragonrend… Now Alduin must learn to live again, not as a devourer of worlds, but as a man.
Genre: Adventure/Humour
A/N: Hi everyone, here's the latest chapter. To say I am exhausted is an understatement so I apologise in advance for any errors I didn't catch during my editing process. It was not the easiest chapter to write too and I wish it could be better but this is as good as it gets in my current state. Anyway, it's off to High Hrothgar after this, although I am toying with the idea of another mini-adventure before that. It depends on the Muse and time. Let me know what you think? I make no promises but knowing what you want would help me decide as well. As always, thank you and thank you for the lovely reviews. They were wonderfully reassuring, some were beautifully detailed and all put my worries to rest. HereLies, I think you posted a link but ff net ate it. And Freyja was the one that untied Alduin, once she was sure he wasn't going to run away. :P Italian Empress 1985, I hope things are better now for you. Take care! SarahMayy, Happy Belated Birthday. :) Roguegz, you reviewed every single chapter. Wow and thanks! And last but not least, I hope you enjoy this chapter.
DRAGONREND
XXV.
This was turning into more trouble than it was worth. 'Almost,' Sanguine grumbled as he glared at the two Dremora Valynaz whom he had stationed directly outside the prisoner's door. They stiffened and straightened their shoulders, standing at full attention. There would be no more sneaking away this time, not with them standing guard outside the only door of the now heavily enchanted cell.
The man stared mutinously at him from behind the bars, hands clasped loosely on his lap as he slouched on the small bed that furnished the cell. This one had guts, Sanguine admitted grudgingly. And when not on his guard, he showed a delightful inclination towards trickery and debauchery, if the number of women whose charms he had sampled and the number of purses he had emptied were any indication. That odd streak of responsibility and honour could be gradually whittled away, after a hundred years or so of work. "Not that you'd live so long," Sanguine sighed, and delighted in the way the man's heart sped up a notch even though outwardly, he remained as relaxed as ever. "Now to find that other little bird…"
With just a thought, he vanished and reappeared at the same spot where he had left Alduin. Naturally, the former dragon-god was nowhere in sight but Sanguine did not need eyes to see, especially when this was his realm. Dragons had a very unique magical signature to them. All he needed to do tap the heart of Misty Grove and from that centre, from which all power flowed, find a strand that did not fit—
A distant caw was all the warning he got and suddenly, the Daedric Prince of Debauchery found himself assailed by crows. "Zenithar's bloody zealots!" Sanguine cursed as he waved his arms wildly, trying to chase the blighted birds off even as they pecked and scratched him, swooping wildly around in a thick cloud. If he batted one away, there was another screeching menace to replace it. Normally, he fancied himself a good-natured fellow and no one appreciated a good trick better than himself but enough was… "Enough!" he roared, reaching for the dagger that hung at his side. It looked harmless enough and the ignorant Princes sometimes mocked him for its lack of size but only he and Mehrunes Dagon knew that this was the twin to the Kingslayer. And even Sanguine knew not to taunt Dagon about how he had won it, at least not as often as he would have liked to.
Apparently Nocturnal was in on their little secret as well because her flock immediately shot back into the sky, their cries echoing throughout the glade, grating and defiant. They circled overhead, their beady eyes gleaming like black diamonds, the sheen of their wings casting shadows where there ought to be light. Sanguine waved the blade at them and reluctantly, the crows took off. "Hmph, you ought to be a more gracious loser than that," he called out, knowing full well that the Night Mistress would hear him. "And shadows won't hide you forever from me, not even if your sister lends you her powers."
He could have sworn he heard a faint chuckle, low and warm as velvet, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to dwell on Nocturnal's more obvious charms. Although an attempt to sample those delights would definitely result in her attempt to steal his manhood, he thought ruefully. Ah well, it was a loss and hers alone. Nobody knew pleasure like he did. 'Except maybe Dibella.' It had been a long time since they had exchanged tips. Maybe he would rectify that the next time he became bored.
Now that he was unmolested by vicious crows, Sanguine focused his powers once more and within minutes found not just Alduin, but the Dragonborn as well. Azura may have been the mistress of dusk and dawn but not even she could indefinitely maintain the enchanted twilight that had thwarted his initial attempts to locate the Dragonborn, not while they were yet in his realm. Ordinarily, he would have been gloating by now but Sanguine did not want the Dragonborn or the fallen god together, not yet. "Nocturnal and Azura, you wet blanket party spoilers," he muttered angrily as he curled the edges of his magic around his form. She was worse than that stick-in-the-mud Zenithar and with his sticks-up-their-asses followers who went around preaching about the goodness of wasting one's life on hard work and prudence. What profit was there in having all that wealth but no fun? Feh!
By the time he reappeared, Sanguine had worked himself up into a fine temper and he was almost hoping that Alduin would take another swipe at him. He wouldn't kill the man, maybe just fracture a couple of bones so that he could find his good humour again. But the sight that met his eyes made them bulge, slightly, for after all, he had seen and done worse but it looked as though the Dragonborn was doing her old Uncle Sanguine proud after all by staying on top, literally, of the situation. 'Who knew she could be that aggressive.' Sanguine raised his brows and decided that since nothing had actually happened, judging by the fact that both still had most of their clothes on although Freyja was trying her best to rectify that, he could allow them a few more moments before he stepped in.
If Sanguine had been less of a voyeur and more of an empathiser, he would have felt sorry for Alduin who looked extraordinarily tormented and tempted as he pressed his mouth hungrily against the expanse of skin exposed by the Dragonborn's gaping neckline while he restrained her from removing the garment. That earned him an angry growl and a sharp nip on the lips that drew blood. And speaking of blood… Sanguine usually limited his bedtime spying to humans and Daedra but dragon mating had something to say for itself, if those scarlet bite marks on both their necks were any indication of how violent a joining could be. Apparently, even the dragons knew how to have fun. For that, Sanguine instantly demoted Zenithar several rungs down the hierarchy of creatures in existence.
Eventually, Freyja wrestled herself free and she did it by cheating because it was supremely difficult for Alduin to concentrate when she rocked and ground herself against his hips while straddling him. The air practically shivered with the sounds of his shallow, rapid panting. 'That's my girl.' Sanguine beamed his approving gaze at the oblivious Dragonborn whose hand had disappeared down Alduin's pants and when she had turned him into a quivering bundle of nerves, proceeded to try working said pants off. Teasing an unwilling partner into submission was an old trick but given her lack of technique, it was a game she seemed relatively new at. 'Still, no matter. What she lacks in skill, she makes up for with enthusiasm.'
There were going to be bruises on her arms, judging by the whiteness of the knuckles that gripped them. The sound of panting evolved into thick, deep groans that made Sanguine tug slightly at the collar of his armour. 'I suppose inexperience does make everything sweeter and this would count as his first time, of sorts. Although it looks as though someone might have read Dibella's books...Oh, definitely, definitely read that book,' he corrected when Freyja shrugged off Alduin's grip, slid herself down his body to his pelvis and… Long blond hair obscured his view but there was no mistaking what she was doing, not when the man beneath her gave a raw cry as he thrust up so violently that he almost bucked her off him. Someone had obviously made good use of the time she had spent at Dibella's temple in Markarth.
What a pity but he had to stop them now, entertaining as it was. If not, Alduin would end up being the person who had the best time this day and Sanguine intended to reserve that title wholly for himself.
Shedding his cloak of invisibility, Sanguine stepped forward and cleared his throat loudly. "Time's up—"
"FUS RO DAH!"
There was no time to think as the force of the Thu'um pummelled him, picked him up off his feet and threw him so hard that he broke two trees before colliding to a stop against a third. It hurt, Sanguine marvelled even as he fought to collect his wildly spinning thoughts. It shouldn't have happened, it was not possible… How in Oblivion did a man in that position sit up so damned quickly and manage to even take aim…
'Luck.'
The thought, so clear that it might as well have been spoken, insinuated itself into his head and Sanguine snarled as he clenched his hands and felt wood snap against his gloves. Nocturnal had bitten off more than she could chew this time; this definitely required a very handsome payback on his part.
Sadly, by the time he composed himself and brushed the twigs and splinters from his armour, Alduin had the Dragonborn and himself on their feet and covered up. Although… "That has to be uncomfortable," Sanguine drawled, eyeing the man's breeches before meeting the latter's livid gaze. "There you are, little Freyja. I was wondering where you'd wandered off to."
The Dragonborn smiled brightly, took a step in his direction and Alduin promptly snatched her up and shoved her behind him. That proved to be a mistake because it left his posterior unguarded and Sanguine's presence seemed not to have put a damper on Freyja's amorousness. The Daedric Prince laughed out loud. "I haven't had so much fun in at least a hundred years and I can safely say the same goes for you," he nodded at Alduin. "We have a wedding to attend though, and we must get moving. But first…"
He snapped his fingers and enjoyed both their startled expressions as their clothes righted themselves. Tears closed up, stitches mended themselves and Freyja's shirt and pants transformed into a sumptuous blue gown with a bodice that was so tight that she threatened to spill out of it. A chain of emeralds was woven into her hair, forming a simple circlet that held the locks in place. To his chagrin though, he could not remove the mark from her neck, nor the mark from Alduin's. So the Dragonspell worked despite his attempts at removing it. It had taken awhile to pinpoint exactly what was magically different about the woman with a dragon soul since he'd last seen her but eventually he had managed to figure it out. Now that, Sanguine decided, was most interesting. He wasn't entirely clear about the origin or nature of the Shout but he could tell it bound them as one flesh; that much was obvious. And despite his best machinations to lessen the effects, to thin the bond simply because he wanted to see if he could, there was only so much interference he could run; the Thu'um would not be undone.
Most of Alduin's attention was focused on the Dragonborn's bosom, his eyes hot with a black scowl on his face. Predictably, he tried to shield her with his body and ran into the same problem he had faced moments before. Sanguine rolled his eyes. 'Chivalry, from the World Eater of all things. Or it might be a possessive kind of obsession. All the better to toy with.' Grinning widely, Sanguine snapped his fingers again and when they next materialised, it was in the middle of the aisle. The inn's inhabitants were sprawled comfortably in the pews, drinks in hand and a chorus of whistles rose when they set eyes on the bride who was definitely not blushing as she tried to feel up the man who was keeping her firmly by his side.
At the altar cowered the priest of Mara whom he had borrowed from her temple at Riften. And standing there, flanked by the Dremora guards, dressed resplendently in a set of fine clothes was the bridegroom.
"Lass?"
Freyja's hands stilled and her gaze snapped up. "Brynjolf!" Before Alduin could stop her, she launched herself down the aisle and into the arms that were outstretched to catch her. "Bryn! I didn't think I'd see you again."
And then she kissed him soundly on the mouth and all hell broke loose.
The kiss was over almost before it began. The damage though, had been done.
She had left his side so swiftly that there had been little time to even think of catching her, let alone attempt the act. Stunned, Alduin watched as Freyja flung herself into the redheaded man's arms, her face wreathed in joyous delight. For a moment, everything turned blank, unravelled. He could not understand. She had kissed him, practically devoured him as she moaned and whimpered in his arms while he held her. She had touched him, marked him as hers and that went beyond the skin. How could she want another? How dare she forget him so soon…
"Lass, what are you doing here?" The man set her back from him. His hand touched her face; his gaze slid over the set of vivid red punctures that adorned her neck. Another Dovah would have read the claim in them but the human was utterly ignorant. Instead, he turned to look at Alduin who was blind to the curiosity in his gaze, but instead saw only the sternness and the fact that the man had shifted his body such that he now stood partially between them.
When the fury came, it manifested itself in a tremendous inhuman growl that resounded through the grove. The guests turned, eyes wide as they clutched their mugs and bottles against their chests as though the latter were shields, shrinking back in their seats and scooting as far from Alduin as they could. The Dremora went for their swords, would have unsheathed them completely had it not been for Sanguine who stopped them with a quick flick of his wrist. The Redguard priest had actually hidden himself behind the altar and was imploring Mara to rescue him from this madness. Freyja's eyes gleamed like beacons and he could see an answering fire in those blue dragon eyes. Unfortunately, the man named Brynjolf did not turn tail and flee, which was precisely what Alduin had wanted.
"Freyja, come here." The order was spoken with biting clarity. It would provoke a response and he was counting on her to react. When he got his hands on her, he would teach her not to betray him again. She took a step towards him but firm hands restrained her. Murder flared in Alduin's eyes. The man did not seem to know what was in the best interests of extending his lifespan because in spite of the additional warning, he set Freyja behind him and to the side before stepping forward to confront Alduin.
"TIID KLO UL!"
It was utterly enjoyable to watch the amazement that etched itself on the face of the one named Brynjolf. Somewhere in the distance, Sanguine stood frozen, his mouth partly open as though to protest but it was too late for even the Daedric Prince and his Dremora minions were caught up in the shattered tide of Time which all but froze upon his command. It would be insufficient a duration for making an escape. But it more than sufficed for what he truly intended.
Both men went down in a slow moving tangle of limbs and furious glares as Alduin tackled Brynjolf, driving the latter as far as he could manage from Freyja. They crashed against the altar; too late, Brynjolf reached out a hand to cushion the impact and ended up pulling down the rich ornate cloth along with the candles. As the shrine fell, in slow motion, to the floor, Alduin realised the cloth was catching fire. Still, it did nothing to stop him from drawing back and hitting Brynjolf with all his strength. The man doubled over as Alduin's fist slammed into his midsection. Alduin barely felt the sting of split skin as he drew back and hit Brynjolf in the face.
Around them, Time gathered itself, resurging and as the spell of the Thu'um faded, the furious redheaded man started hitting back. Freyja was shouting at them but for the life of him, Alduin could not make out what she was saying between dodging lightning quick blows and the roaring of his blood in his ears. What he did make out clearly though, even as Brynjolf snarled and punched him hard on the jaw, was Sanguine's laughter.
The Dragonborn looked visibly distressed, and it was not because of the initial slight aches the flight had inflicted on her. Those Sanguine easily absorbed, shielding her with more of the power inherent to himself and within his realm. In spite of the pints of enchanted brew he had made her imbibe, he had had to restrain her when she attempted to go to the men to break up the glorious brawl that by now, had chipped the nose off the shrine of Mara, caused half the altar to burn merrily with flames and had the guests on their feet cheering and stomping raucously. The priest had run off screaming and was even now being brought back, still screaming, frogmarched by a grim-looking Dremora who had him firmly by the scruff of his neck.
"What's the problem my dear?" Sanguine purred, resting a massive arm over Freyja's shoulders. "Isn't this better than the fights in the tavern?"
"This isn't right," she muttered. She tried to say more but stopped, frowning as she shook her head slightly. Sanguine looked knowingly at her. The beauty of the enchanted wine was that it not only broke down a person's inhibitions, it suppressed notions of right and wrong as well. The fact that Freyja had not turned on him or done more to stop the two bloodied and bruised men from pummelling each other was testament to its power.
"Don't you love a good tussle?" he teased further. "Oh, that was a good shot. My money's on the thief, although your dragon god isn't doing too badly either. I think I chose the right husband for you. That Hagraven wouldn't have put up a scrap of the fight he's putting up now."
"Marry Brynjolf?" Freyja's mouthed dropped open slightly. Her blue eyes were suddenly the size of saucers.
"Based on the stories you told me, you're awfully fond of the man. And you did say you would let me pick the best partner for you." Red eyes glittered slyly as he watched Freyja's gaze dart from Alduin to Brynjolf even as they knocked over two pews. Each time Alduin tried to use a Shout, the thief struck for his face or dodged, effectively preventing him from using the Thu'um. Nocturnal's agent was one smart man. Then again, he had been largely responsible for grooming and training the Dragonborn when she had been nothing but raw potential. "Or would you like to make that decision?"
After a long moment, Freyja sighed wistfully. "I can't have them both, can I?"
Sanguine threw back his head and laughed. "What a pity so many others have a claim on you. You'd almost be worth the trouble of fighting them all off," he murmured, stroking her pale hair. "Unfortunately my dear, if the marriage is going to be binding, you can only have one. At least when it comes to saying your vows. You can always sneak a little on the side, if you know what I mean."
She sighed again, biting her lip as they watched Alduin and Brynjolf steadily demolish the furniture in a bid to beat the other into the dust. "Freyja sweetheart, sometime soon before one of them expires," Sanguine urged. Actually, neither man was nearing his tether but somewhere out there, Sanguine could sense a gathering presence and knew Nocturnal was becoming unhappy. She had already slipped into this realm several times and there was only so much he could do to keep her out before it turned into a real battle. Marrying her precious pedigreed Dragonborn to a bird-woman would have been harmless but there was a limit to the liberties she would allow him with two of her agents, especially if one of them was sustaining injuries.
"Alright," she finally said, pointing at her chosen husband. "I'll take him."
The Grove was finally quiet, now that all the guests had gone, along with one ecstatic priest, one very unhappy witness and the wedded couple. Sanguine sighed with quiet satisfaction, leaning back in a huge ornate chair with his booted feet on the table.
At the edge of the light beyond the glowing lamps, shadows flickered, gathering in a growing pool of darkness that swirled and took shape. 'A very lovely shape,' Sanguine noted as he let his eyes run over Nocturnal in a blatant mix of admiration and lust. The deep gold threads of the embroidered cords that held her robes together glittered under the lights and emphasised the way they rode low on her bare hips. Deep emerald was definitely Nocturnal's colour. It complemented those smoky dark eyes and the rich black of her hair, which lay mostly concealed beneath the hood she wore. "I was wondering when you would show up," he drawled. "Join me for a drink?"
Her laugh was short and sharp. "I think not. I have no desire to fall victim to the same fate as my agent." Gracefully, she slipped into a chair that she conjured for herself. High above, winged shadows descended and three huge ravens, the size of small hawks, perched themselves on the high back and arm rests, pinning him with their unblinking stares.
"You should have taught her more about us and our ways. At least the man had the sense not to touch my food and drink."
"Brynjolf has years of experience that Freyja yet lacks. Besides, she left the Guild to its own devices." There was a slight note of reproof there.
"So that was why you let me take her this time," Sanguine murmured. "I should've known."
"And you should also have known better than to take him without legitimate grounds. Especially since I would not put it pass you to know of the discord that lies between them."
Sanguine shrugged and smiled innocently. "Perhaps this marriage will make things better? Sooth the strained relationship, so to speak."
She sniffed dismissively but not inelegantly, at least it seemed that way to Sanguine. While others felt Nocturnal too cool and aloof, Sanguine found her nothing short of fascinating, like a riddle wrapped in mystery that he itched to unwrap. She was always so put together, too put together.
"Their well-being is the last thing you care about. You are only interested in spreading merriment at the expense of others through your pranks." She jabbed a pointed nail at him.
"You wound me. Pranks? The Daedric Lord of Debauchery does not deal in mere pranks."
She crossed her legs and he was too distracted by the way the hem of her skirt rode even higher up to bother with the condescending way she rolled her eyes at him. "Well, I am not the only one whose feathers you ruffled. You snatched a priest of Mara from her temple."
"Outside the temple. So technically, I wasn't on her grounds." Sanguine sipped from the heavy gold goblet he held. "Besides, to quote his very words, he was 'dying for a drink'."
"Only because you inflicted thirst on him and stole all his septims when you 'happened' to meet him in Riften. You are a menace to the humans. Someone should lock you up."
"Well, I never thought you'd be interested."
"Dream on, Sanguine."
"My dearest Nocturnal, I do. Every night, several times a night in fact."
"How predictable. You always want the one you can't have."
Her cool gaze was nothing short of piercing but Sanguine simply flashed a wicked smile at her from over the rim of his cup. "You mean the one I haven't had yet."
"Tell me this entire event was not planned solely to get my attention."
"Well, let's be honest here. I don't always think my decisions through. This may have begun as a minor amusement—I did wonder what you would do if I snatched both your Nightingales—but it wasn't long before I realised it could become more…interesting." It had been Freyja's barely contained jealousy of Narri that had changed his initial plans. "Your Dragonborn is going places. Maybe a little influence from her old Uncle Sanguine could help adjust her course a bit."
"I doubt she will be the slightest bit appreciative when she wakes to find herself caught in the binds of matrimony."
"At least it's not a Hagraven." Sanguine chuckled. "Now that would have been a sight to behold. Her husband though seems fond of her."
"Oh?"
He was not surprised that Nocturnal had missed bits and pieces of the ceremony. He had been so worried that she would interfere that not only had he rushed the priest through the steps, he had cast a huge amount of magic into keeping her as far away from the wedding as he could.
"Right before she passed out, your Dragonborn told him he had the longest eyelashes she had ever seen. I wanted to gag. He smiled." Actually, 'smiled' was a gross overstatement. Still, for a moment, the forbidding, hard expression on his face had softened and the way he folded her in his arms, when the brew finally got the best of her, could only have been described as protective.
"Hmm. I always knew those two were worth watching."
"I fully agree. See, we do have something in common after all."
"You wish."
"Speaking of wishes, I'd like to have the Sanguine Rose back."
For the first time that evening, Nocturnal smiled. "I thought you promised that to my Dragonborn if she partook of your brew."
"I promised her that if she agreed to a drinking competition, which she never did. So it's not hers and neither is it yours."
"What makes you think I have it?" Nocturnal demurred.
"Oh, I don't know. But if you want to play finders keepers, I'm all for it. I do so love keys, especially the kind that let you into magical realms and pick enchanted locks."
The only indication that she was furious were the shadows that crawled and swam as they dimmed the lights, eating up the glow and for a moment, all the stars seemed to wink out of existence. Then, everything went back to normal as Nocturnal regained her composure.
"Well played," she said quietly and not without genuine admiration. "I could say that I would give you back your not-quite-holy staff but nothing is ever so simple with you. What do you have in mind?"
With ill-concealed glee, he snapped his fingers and two mugs made of the finest carved black ebony appeared. "You look like someone who can hold their liquor. How about a friendly contest to win a key?"
The look on Nocturnal's face was priceless. Oh yes, it would be a night to remember indeed.