Andy had just experienced her first one night stand.
She took a sip of her "morning coffee", which was a very strong form of the local tea. She was leaning against the door frame in her own version of a house robe and a pair of thick wool socks…hair haphazardly thrown up in a messy bun. The empty bed was a clusterfuck of crumpled sheets, pillows, and God knows what array of biological fluids. Pieces of a shattered vase littered the floor by the desk.
The corner near the entrance to the house, where he placed his bag and armor, was empty.
Guess he didn't want to deal with the awkward conversations that followed "the morning after".
She took another sip. On the table near the entrance was an ornate box, with some sort of pitiful excuse of a flower next to it. She interpreted it as the "hey, sorry we had sex, but here's some tacky bullshit to make up for me splitting, because there's no way I'm going to get stuck with you publically" gift. It was still there, untouched.
She was debating between throwing it out, or burning it.
She put some pressure on the aching, bandaged part of her shoulder. He, honest to God, had bit her at some point; enough that it bleed like a bitch and would probably leave a scar.
This is why she didn't date.
A soft rapt sounded on the door. She took another sip of tea, casually walking over to open it. The bright light from the rising sun flooded the room, making her squint.
"Hey, don't you melt in the sun or something?"
Serena lowered her eyebrows, giving Andy a skeptical frown. "No, but standing in it isn't good for my complexion, either."
[-]
"What's in the box."
"I don't know, and I definitely do not care", Andy yelled from the bedroom. She was trying to put all the sheets into a large bag, so she could go burn them in Ghorza's forge.
The box was Ayleid in construction. Blue gems illuminated the hexagonal edges. White ivory had been painstakingly inlaid into the rare metal.
The box, by itself, was worth a fortune.
The flower he had left her was a yellow mountain flower, a common ingredient used when fortifying health potions. It was a sweet notion. Vilkas had given her many boquets of these during their on and off romance. Serena slowly turned the edges of the box, until it sprung open.
Her jaw dropped, fangs poking out.
It was Stalhrim, encased in an intricate hollow cage made of ebony. It connected to a delicately formed ebony chain, of more than a hundred or so perfect loops.
She had never seen this material be cut as a gem. It was one of the hardest materials known; extremely difficult to mine and almost impossible to work with. Only master craftsman have managed weapons and armor from it, and those have been large pieces. It radiated power when she touched it. A dim light glowed inside, casting a million sparkles through the holes of it's ebony casing, onto the walls of the house.
It was a heavy protection enchantment, with a couple of other powerful spells mixed in that Serena couldn't quite identify. This was beyond priceless; it was an artifact to rival the those of the Daedric Lords. She couldn't fathom how many years, maybe even lifetimes, it would take to craft something like this.
Andy came out of the bedroom, dragging a large bag behind her. She leaned over Serena's shoulder, coffee cup still in hand. She tapped the beautiful amulet, then frowned.
"Bastard doesn't even know my eyes are green, not blue."
[-]
Lightning made contact with the Dwarven Centurion, shattering it's soul gem, and rendering it non-functional. He looked over to see fire encase the few spiders sprawled out on the floor, echoing their mechanical death throes, as blackened charred legs twitched erratically.
His Dunmer companion was quite an effecient killer.
Miraak had been in contact with Valdras, long before Andrea had received her cousin's letter. Valdras knew he had been in Morrowind, and that he was heading to Markarth. Miraak had also heard the rumors.
But the rumors were not what the two females had presumed.
Dark whispers had started to echo even darker tidings: the rebirth of Lorkhan's heart.
The Nerevarine had died during the Oblivion crisis, although that was not common knowledge. Vivec had disappeared, long before. This left scattered fanatics free to plot new means of continuing their distorted and deranged directives. The sacking of Mournhold, by the Argonians, had fueled further discontent with those longing for the days once beheld by their Chimer ancestors.
That fool in Winterhold had managed to find one of Kagrenac's tools. He had not propelled himself towards the same fate as the Dwemer, but instead had found himself upon an alter in the Llunibi Caverns, surrounded by those more than eager to "relieve him" of Keening.
They discovered Arniel Gane's mutilated body near Gnaar Mok, dumped outside for the cliff racers to feast on.
They were currently in a small camp to the east of Marandus, outside of the remains of Piran. Most of it had been destroyed during ereuption, but there was a small passage, still accessible. They were going to explore if the previously caved-in portions had been shifted since the eruption. This might give them an advantage to delve deeper into the extent of the cult's activities, and stop whatever progress they had made.
Blight no longer existed, but the harsh winds still cut through skin and bone. The two Dragonborns were leaning up against an outcrop, faces wrapped to shelter the brutal environment.
Valdras poked the embers of their small fire, trying to keep the flame alive.
"Did you tell her."
The wind died a little, and a couple of crackles from the fire echoed in the small ravine.
"No."
His thoughts slipped back to that night over a month ago…
His hand was making a slow and tormenting path from her inner thigh, eventually hooking a finger around her undergarment and sliding them down.
Her hands were buried in his long, unbound hair.His mouth was leaving light nibbles down her neck as she moaned, arching towards him.
As his hand returned, he slid a finger past the damp curls, into her slick folds. A loud mewl escaped her lips.
His clothes were already off, he had removed them before getting into bed with her. He hefted her tunic off with his free arm, then lightly ghosted his thumb over an erect nipple. The right hand continued to make the slow, steady movements of thrusting. He felt her walls start to contract, and her breathing get more rapid.
"Ni tul lokaal"
She growled, eyes giving a light aura of blue that she was unaware of.
She was ready, she was impatient.
And she was also fertile.
He had sensed it. It was his true motivation in staying. He would make up the lost week by cutting through Rorikstead, skipping Falkreath.
He lifted her up, and laid her back down into a better position. Hooking his arm under her right leg, he leaned forward to gently spread her out.
Slowly, he entered. He heard a soft, and almost pained, whine in his ear. He gave her a few moments to adjust, before slowly rocking his hips forward.
She cried out, gripping on his shoulders, raspy hot breaths rolling over the sweat on his neck.
He picked up the pace, going deeper with each thrust. She was tight...wet. He growled, sinking his teeth into her shoulder.
Mine.
She screamed, wrapping her legs around him as her body convulsed in rhythm with his. His hot seed spilled deep inside her; a guttural, inhuman roar resonated from within his chest.
He lifted his head up from where it had fallen into the nook of her neck, still panting for breath. Tears were streaming down her cheeks.He wiped a few away.
She cradled his head in her hands and kissed him softly.
Throughout the night, she willingly gave him her body, and he selfishly took it.
Before the first rays of sunlight had crept into the waking world, the stables were already in the distance behind him…
Valdras wiped his hands clean, then moved back to his seat next to a deep-in-thought Miraak. He pulled the cloth away from his face long enough to take a swig of sujamma.
As much as he enjoyed being back in his homeland, this region was definitely as pleasant as the ass end of a guar.
"Did you mention it to your mate?"
He took another swig of his drink.
"If there is one thing I've learned about Michelle, it's that she is unable to keep her mouth shut. I did not."
Andy wasn't a Dragonborn in the sense that he and Miraak were, but she had been infused with a soul of a dragon, regardless. She was also unable to absorb souls. Valdras had found this out from Paarthurnax, when he had stopped on his way to meet up with Miraak in Windhelm.
He told Michelle that he had business in Solitude, but asked her to stay at his mothers. It took a lot of convincing, but she finally agreed. It was the safest place he could put them. His mother was a master conjurer. She would slaughter millions before anything laid a finger on her loved ones.