HULLO, EVERYBODY! I apologize to anyone who happened to read the original chapter; I assure you it was not as I intended, and I hope it doesn't deter you from this story and its characters. I especially apologize to the guest user Dapper and wishinonehand. Thank you both for bringing this to my attention and helping me keep this story's integrity. Without further ado, readers, here is Chapter 29. I hope you enjoy -LR
"We don't usually do this," Corpulus Vinius chuckled, as he led me through the taproom of the Winking Skeever Inn. It was nearly empty, but for some tavern girls and barkeep watching me with curiosity and one drunk who still clung to the bar. But, even he was cleared off soon enough. "Out with you, already," Corpulus growled, "Come on, man, out!" He turned to a broad-shouldered man of brown hair and beard. "Clear him out, will you?"
"Right away," the man nodded, sparing me another glance before ushering the drunkard out.
"As I was saying," Corpulus continued, clearing his throat. "We don't usually do this, but what with the New Life Festival days away. . ." he shrugged. "I've no choice but to take you on, Miss. . . what did you call yourself, again?"
"Jackai," I smiled, because that's how I was feeling. I ran a thumb under my lower lip. "And, thank you."
He nodded graciously, "You're very welcome," and eyed me approvingly.
I couldn't blame him.
The small, strapless, gem-green tavern dress was doing its work. It dipped low into a vee, and was generous with my cleavage, hugging my body like a second skin. My upper arms were bound by gold bands to match the earrings, with an onyx circlet gracing my hairline. My hair had been washed and combed of the forest and grass and dirt, styled into goddess braids, with green and gold silk ribbons woven into them. Deep jazby-colored rouge painted my lips and my eyes were rimmed with soft, black charcoal. Fine, brown leather boots accentuated my long muscled legs.
Who is this woman, you might be thinking.
Yes, I understand your shock. But, you can put jewels and fine cloth on a pig, and still make it look halfway decent. Relax! It was a joke. In any case, as a thief, you are trained for a multitude of scenarios, whether you are expected to be in the presence of kings or in that of beggars. You must always play your role.
Mine, for the time being, was a tavern girl, seeking work.
It was just my luck that Corpulus Vinius, owner of the Winking Skeever, was looking.
Very, very closely, I might add.
"Jackai," he repeated, trying out my mother's name like a fine wine. "Like the pirate queen, aye?"
"Just so," I laughed. "It seems you've found me out, Master Vinius. Shall I pick another?"
"No, no," he smiled, "No. It fits you."
"If you really think so."
"I do, indeed."
I smiled, glancing over him, "That makes me very glad."
"You start tonight. Room for you and your things upstairs."
\
"I don't like this," Paia said, as I settled in beside her. She had taken the ride to Solitude with me, and sat at the bar beside me, as we nursed Black Briar mead. She gazed around distastefully until finally, her eyes fell on me. "I don't like this," she said again, "you're too beautiful."
I stopped drinking and threw my head back, laughing.
Mostly because it was ridiculous, but also because I knew what she meant.
This was my second night at the Winking Skeever. And, I. Was. Loved.
From the first night to the second, men came to see, waited for, drank to, danced with, asked for Jackai. They whispered in her ear, made jokes with her, wanted to get to know her. They even loved my tattoos, saw the chains as mysterious and sexy. In my mind, I turned them all into a tall, roguish vagabond with mischievous dark eyes and hair like raven's feathers. For some unknown reason, this made it all easier.
"More beautiful?" I smiled, "Isn't that a good thing?"
"You know what I meant," she said, with a hesitant smile. "They all love you here."
"This?" I snorted, glancing around. "This isn't love." I looked back at her, a little more sober. "How is Marrick?"
"How is he? Rontu, it's been but three days!" She studied my face, and this time, I didn't try to mask her. Her face smoothed over in understanding. "Oh," she breathed. I smiled, taking another drink of mead. "I wouldn't know. We wrote Arngeir that he was coming as soon as we got back to Riverwood that same day." She shrugged, surveying the crowd, shaking her head. "No one has written back yet."
"I see."
She cocked her head, a question in her eyes. Something in my face must have warned her not to ask it, though, because instead, she asked,
"So, what is happening with Delphine's contract? Any sign of him?"
"A courier came earlier today, with an urgent note from Malborn, hinting that he was travelling Skyrim with caution, as many still hold ill will for the elves. He should be here the day after tomorrow."
"That's perfect," she commented, taking a sip of mead. "In two days, right? That's the New Life Festival, the first of Morning Star. No one would notice you conspiring, what with all the confusion that'll be in this bar."
"That's what I'm counting on," I smirked. "They're having a party at the Thalmor Embassy, you see. Once I meet with Marlborn and figure out a plan, I'll get a good forgery of an invitation. With that, I'm in, and it's all downhill from there."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"And what about Marrick?" I shot her an irritated look, and she blatantly ignored it. "What about when he finds out you never really trusted his judgement about Delphine, and pretty much forced him to unite with her-"
"Nobody forced him."
"You kind of did-"
"-not really the word I'd use-"
"-you know you did-"
"-just followed my gut, he should trust me-"
"And why do you think he might not? Because you do crazy things like this, without consulting him!"
"I'm sorry, what? Without consulting the either-fuck-or-kill-everything-I-see psychopath? Right, right, because he's got such better judgement of character than I do."
"You know Delphine is scum-"
"Yes, I do. I also know that she's necessary," I pointed out. "Can you see that?"
She opened her mouth to respond, hesitated, and then, hung her head.
"Oge`," she sighed. "Yes."
"The fact that I can see that and he cannot just reinforces my belief that this was the right choice. The gods gave me an opening and I took it. Do you blame me?"
"No," she sighed again. "No, I don't." I nodded to myself, and took another drink. "But, still. What will happen, when he finds out?"
What would happen, hm? I pondered, raising my tankard to my lips.
Heat suddenly filled me, and furious, black eyes flashed through my mind, giving me pause. I put the tankard down. A vision? A thought? It felt too real to be either. I gingerly felt around my center, where the gold thread stretched some leagues between he and I.
I smiled to myself.
"What happens when he finds out?" I echoed, and downed my tankard tapping it to get it filled. Those enraged eyes filled my head once more, and I smiled again. "Maybe he already has. . ."
We both took another drink, pondering on my words.
"You really do look beautiful, though," she said after some time. "Like an Alik'r princess."
"Paia-"
"I know, I know," she laughed. "You don't want me to say. But, you deserve it. You deserve to be beautiful. You have the warpaint and the swords and the armor. But, you deserve to be beautiful."
"Paia, I-" I started, and I meant to say more. But, in that moment, the most bizarre of all things happened. On the word "beautiful", Paia's voice sounded more like my. . . my mother's. My eyes shot up to her face, and my mother's visage exploded behind my eyes, smiling wisely. Queenly.
"Mana," I gasped, and her smile widened. A pressure suddenly filled my head, like nothing I've ever felt before. It felt like my mind was filled up to its brim with air, and that it was making me float, but I wasn't floating.
"Segen," she cooed, "Segen, so beautiful."
I felt like gasping, like I ought to gasp, but it felt like that would only force in more air. As if she could read my mind, and found my thoughts ridiculous and adorable, my mother smiled again, and it was like my head burst. As painful as the pressure was, this was so much more. I opened my mouth in a soundless scream as the apparition of my mother exploded away behind my open eyes.
"Segen!" Paia was hissing into my ear. "Segen!"
I "opened" my eyes, I say "opened", because they hadn't been closed, just glazed over. I came to, I'll say, and focused my gaze on my friend, my mother's smile still lingering on my mind.
"Manaa," I croaked hoarsely.
"Segen, cloaod dur eyisszz," came Paia's voice, muffled towards the end; I strained to hear her. "Close your eyes, Rontu, they're shining!"
"What?" I blinked my eyes; they were burning in their sockets. "What!" I grabbed a silver pewter dish and peered into it frantically. My eyes were shimmering ivory, looking back at me with great interest. "What the hell!"
"Rontu, are you alright?" Paia was saying. "What do you need me to do?"
Nothing, I wanted to say, Everything's alright.
Tough words for someone who was on the verge of going insane herself.
But, then, suddenly, the gleam of my eyes was less, as was the pain. I blinked several times, and soon I was able to see clearly again, glaring hard at my reflection in the silver plate.
"Rontu?"
"Oge`, Paia, I'm fine." My breath was harsh, as I studied myself. "I'm fine," I reassured myself. Before she could say anything, I downed the rest of my mead and lifted a finger with all the strength I could muster in my trembling limbs. "Let me get another."
But when it came, and I tried to drink it, I really just couldn't.
"Rontu-"
"I'm fine," I said again, and it came out more like an order. I rose from the bar abruptly. "I just. . . I need some air. Going for a walk."
Paia started to argue, but instead, sat back and sighed, "Take your time."
I stumbled out of the overheated and overcrowded inn, immediately soothed by the cool night air. I wove my way through the winos lingering outside, and finally broke out onto the near-empty streets of Solitude. Clouds were sparse in the night sky, which instantly brought me back to my thoughts of Marrick.
I could definitely see him in Solitude; it was proud and lively and arrogant, just like him. Colorful banners were strung over the avenues, castle towers spired high, color was everywhere, and the smell of the sea. The smell of Marrick.
I began to pass the graveyard, and on an impulse, I wandered into it. The Hall of the Dead was massive, and I knew it to be the home of the last High King of Skyrim, King Torygg. I wondered if Marrick's mother was also buried within. Or, was outside, with the nightshade and the night sky that so closely resembled the dark of her son's eyes.
All of a sudden, I became aware that I wasn't alone in the graveyard, and I turned to see a woman standing just beyond me, smiling slyly at me.
"Hello," I said, because really, what else was there to say?
"Well met, friend," the woman replied. She had a nice, low voice, sort of like my mother's; deep, but sweet. Gentle. She walked up beside me, and I got a good look at her. She wore a dress of fine blue cloth, with a ice wolf that had been tanned as her shrug. She was decked out in jewelry, from her wrists to her hair, which was as dark as night and pulled back into an elegant braid. The style brought attention to her fine-boned face and her cool, olive-green cat eyes. "Sorry to disrupt you," she said, as she drew nearer. "Are you looking for someone? A love long lost?"
"No, no," I mused. "My people are buried far, far away. It's just. . . quieter here."
She laughed hard, head thrown back; in a way unbefitting of how she was dressed.
"And, so it should be!" I grinned back at her, very glad at this point, that I had decided to come outside. "My name is Ileana," she offered, along with her hand.
"I am Rontu," I said, without hesitation.
"And what brings you to Solitude, Rontu?"
"Well, right now, I'm working as a tavern girl, over at the Winking Skeever."
"Ah," she chuckled. green eyes twinkling. "Yes, that was me, too, some time ago. The same place, as well."
"Really?" I asked, brows raised. "And, what now?"
"Now. . ?" She laughed once, humorlessly. "Now, I'm. . . this."
"She said, distastefully," I joked.
Ileana smiled, "No, I don't mean to sound ungrateful. But, I never meant to either live or die as a kept woman. And yet, that's exactly what I am." She glanced at me. "You can probably tell I'm not used to clothes like these."
That was obviously a loaded question, so I decided to ignore it and stop beating around the bush.
"Who is he?"
"A renowned general," she said, airily, absently mocking some pretentious socialite. "One that is much too good for me." She glanced at me again. "Don't think me rude for not giving his name. It would be wrong of me, since. . ."
"Since what?"
She lowered her face, letting the shadows obscure it.
"Since I don't share it," she said softly. "And, since some other woman does."
It was not said in a sad or sorrowful tone, just an objective one, as if she were relaying a simple fact. And, perhaps she was.
"Does he love you?" I asked. "Do you love him?"
"He says he does and I don't know anymore." She shrugged, and looked at me with another sly smile, before she burst out laughing. "By the love of Mara," she crooned. "I think you know more about me than anyone on this all-forsaken earth."
I smiled absently, and we stared in silence for a while at the old graves.
"If you are so unhappy, why don't you leave him?"
"It's not all that simple, I'm afraid," she smiled. "You see, I have his child, so. . ."
"Oh," I said, "I see."
"Do you?" The sly, cheeky, I-know-something-you-don't-know smile was back on her lips and in her eyes. It gave me the feeling that we were speaking about two entirely different things. "Do you see, Rontu?" I had no idea what to say, and when I opened my mouth for something to come out, Ileana smiled again. "I'm leaving him," she said decidedly. "Everyone knows how things are. Where he goes. Why he isn't with his wife." She shrugged. "I can't live like this. Not now. Not ever. I need to be free." She turned her green eyes on me. "You understand that, don't you?"
"I do," I said softly. "He wants you to be with him, forever. But, that would mean you couldn't live without him. And, I know that feeling. I know that fear."
She smiled, then, a smile that could dazzle the moons.
"Then, you do know," she said, with that mysterious smile. "You don't see, not yet. But, you know."
With that, she pointed towards the Hall of Dead, and I looked, but nothing was there.
"Ileana, I-"
-was talking to air. Ileana wasn't there, anymore. It was just me. Just me, and my thoughts.
\
I was awake when the sun rose on the city. In fact, I watched it happen. My room was right above the inn, in the attic. I had a window overlooking the street, and even though I wasn't tired at all, I still lay in bed, watching Solitude come to life. I had some inkling that the night ahead, the last day of the year; the day before the New Life Festival, would be a big one.
What I didn't know was how big.
\
"Jackai!" I rolled my eyes into the back of my head, mouthing a stream of expletives before I turned to see the same usual group of drunk, gropey Nords, in full effect on New Life's Eve.
"Quentin! Liam! Darius! Gerard!" I beamed, turning to them. "Back again, I see."
"Oh, we're back, alright," Liam gushed drunkenly. "And don't you look gorgeous?"
He was right.
Today, I wore gold jewelry with a scarlet tavern dress and flat, black shoes. My hair had been washed and combed again and it fell softly around my hair, like soft, red-brown, lambswool. My lips were painted red again, and my eyes were shadowed with charcoal once more.
I had been working since noon, and now, it was eleven. I glanced around the room. Still no sign of Malborn. . .
I was shifted from my thoughts when Liam grabbed me up by my waist brazenly while his friends cheered him on. It was all I had not to fucking strangle him. I forced myself to laugh along with them.
"Are you dancing tonight, Jackai?"
"Maybe," I lilted, taking his hands from around me. "You'll have to wait and see."
They groaned and laughed more, but weren't satisfied with my answer.
"Come and dance," Darius protested. "It en't like you're workin'." He turned to Sara, another girl, who was at the bar. "Is she workin', Sara?"
She gave a small smile that said it all, and they started laughing and exalting again, pulling me towards the center of the room. It was hotter than it was the night before, way hotter. The inn was body to body, but when I came to the floor, everyone parted like hair before a comb.
Imagine that, imagine that, imagine that, imagine.
Fighting isn't all I do.
When I move, I move. Music and dance is all in the Redguard culture; you oughtn't be surprised. Dancing and fighting are not so different. We do both to glory in the forms our gods have given us, to celebrate what we are and what we can do. And so, of course I dance. I fight, don't I?
And so, of course, when I do, people stop and stare, especially in a foreign land. Because, when we dance, it is like nothing you have ever seen before.
Women watched in either envy or admiration; men in the latter.
While I was more suited to dance with someone more suited to my style, everyone wanted to try to match my movements, try to match me.
Dancing brings me to another world. All of the eyes of all of the people fade away, and I am all that's left. Just like when I fight. I put everything into each movement, with none wasted, letting the music control me, until it stopped, and I stopped.
I finally tuned back into my audience, which exploded into applause.
Jackai smiled brilliantly and drifted back to the bar with the host of her admirers.
"A drink, then?" Gerard offered, slapping ten septims on the counter. "Two meads, with juniper berries, on me."
"Says who?" thundered Liam, "Was it not me that got her to dance? And, what? You going to buy her something as cheap as mead?" He turned to Sara, a haughty smirk on his face. "Two Alto wines, please."
Alto wines were 12 septims apiece.
"You're both dirt-poor fools; shut up and stop your squabbling," Quentin chuckled. "Do you really have such low standards for such a high-class woman?" He put fifty septims on the counter. "Two Black Briar meads, Sara, but no tankards," he said, looking directly at me. "Tonight, I feel like drinking from the bottle."
The crowd roared and hooted as he kept his full attention on me.
I smiled, like I was supposed to, but my full attention was on how tired I was. And hungry. And, the noise was really annoying me. And, my feet hurt. And, someone kept touching my waist. And, I was-
"Two Black Briar Reserves."
As full as it was, the whole inn went dead silent, the timbre of the deep voice cutting through it.
"That's. . ." sputtered Sara, dumbfounded. "That's two hundred septims. A hundred each."
The deep voice laughed.
Carefree. Bemused.
My back straightened up like a rabbit's ears on high alert and chills raised the skin of my arms. I couldn't turn around. Not for anything in the world.
Why see the man, when I already knew who he was?
The music started up again, and the crowd drifted apart, everyone back to his own business. I listened to his footsteps as he approached my, felt them through the floorboards. They stopped just behind me.
"What? No kiss?"
I shut my eyes tight, begging the Divines to make me disappear. Then, after I got over myself, I slowly turned to look Marrick in the eye. He was standing right them, in the midst of my five admirers, arms crossed, gazing at me coolly, lips prepared to either smirk or frown at a moment's notice. He was in black trousers, tunic, jerkin and cloak and wore an archer's glove that exposed all but his middle and ring fingers. His hair was soaked through, boots muddied and eyes calculating.
Finally, I found my voice.
"What are you doing here?"
"Good question. Let me mirror it back to you."
"What am I doing here?" I was appalled. "Marrick, that woman is the only way for you to move forward as the Dragonborn, and you won't listen to her because you don't know how to take orders from anybody!"
"So, you're just going to make decisions behind my back?"
"As opposed to sitting idle, yes."
"Aye, I figured that," he said, and raked his gaze over me. "I just didn't peg you for the whole tits-out tavern girl attire." His eyes rested on my breasts pointedly. "Almost forgot you had them. And, are you drunk?"
"Tipsy," I announced. "This is counterproductive. You're distracting me, and I need to find my contact."
"We're not done."
"Yes, we are."
"Princess," he said. And, when I looked back at him, he was grinning. "Come and dance with me." My expression must have been dubious, because he laughed again and said, "I'm serious, Rontu. You look like some foreign queen right now, and I kind of want to be a tourist." I sucked my teeth at him, and shoved past him, but he grabbed my arm. "Look," he said, "forget the whole argument; I don't want to ruin this. Not when you look so beautiful."
"Marrick-"
"One dance." I swear, he almost had me. I swear on everything I love. Then, he stepped in it. "One dance, and then we'll leave."
"I'm not leaving."
His smile dropped.
"Really, Princess, I'm trying to be the bigger person. I'm letting the fact that you went and did some shady shit go. I'm looking the other way. Alright?" He smiled again. "It's New Life's Eve. Just have fun with me tonight."
"You've had your fun, at my expense. I'm working right now, working and waiting for someone. Now, you can either join me and be a productive Dragonborn, or you can leave."
With that, I gave him my back, and pretended to survey the crowd.
"That's what you really want, Princess? Hn?" I ignored him. "Fine," Marrick said, and I turned to see him step up to Sara. "Hey. Wanna get fucked by a god?"
I tensed up for only a moment before I turned, downed the whole of the bottle of Reserve he'd just bought and walked away as nonchalantly as I could, already feeling drunk, and looking to use that drunkenness to do something stupid.
"Jackai," Quentin implored. "Who was that?"
"NOBODY," I said loudly, so that Marrick could hear it. "So, don't worry about it. Alright?"
He nodded. "Do you still want that drink?"
"No," I said, shaking my head.
"Then, how about a dance?"
I smirked, "If you can keep up."
The drums pounded hard, making the floor tremble as the flute and lute of the bards also played in. There was no room for lyrics here, no feelings or emotions. I swiveled my hips to the music, moving in sync with it. There were bodies on all sides, skin on skin, and everytime we touched, I saw Marrick's eyes flash furiously in my mind.
I shut my eyes against his, and just felt the music and the beat and let it move me. The other dancers started to howl with the beat, and it was mindless, glorious pandemonium, bodies of all colors meshed together like ribbons.
"Jackai," someone said, "Let me have the next one."
"Jackai, let me cut in."
"You're so fucking pretty, Jackai."
"Jackai, let me in."
"Princess, let me in."
My eyes shot open to reveal Marrick standing in front of me, more furious than I'd ever seen him. The stench of alcohol was drifting off him in waves, and it made me recoil.
"Whaa- I-"
"Before you continue with that intelligent thought, I just want to let you know that I'm about drunk as fuck right now, so I'm not liable for anything I might do."
Before I could say a single word, he tossed me over his shoulder and started striding out of building.
"MARRICK!" I hollered, having found my voice. "PUT ME DOWN, NOW!" He ignored me, and I huffed as I dangled beside his tail. "You asked for this, then."
I brought up my leg and draped it over his other shoulder, so I sort of straddled the back of his neck. Then I clenched my thigh and in one swift movement, I threw all my weight towards the floor, causing him to lean back. When my hands were against the floor, Marrick was pitched forward and sent flying into a table and chairs.
The other patrons in the hall gawked as I uprighted myself and dusted off the red dress, breathing hard.
"The music; start the music back up!" I hollered. No one moved. "Come on, play some music!"
Behind me there was a clatter of chairs and tables as Marrick found his feet. He surveyed the room until he located me and pinned me with that familiar wild look in his eye.
"Damn, do I hope you fuck like you fight."
"Leave me alone," I shouted. "I want to dance! You said bend; if you don't bend, you break. That's what you said," I accused drunkenly.
"I'll bend you alright," he retorted, just as drunk. "Bend you over a fucking table."
"Start the music back, damn you!"
But the bards wouldn't, so I kept asking. Marrick grabbed my arm and yanked me against him.
"You about done?"
Rather than answer, I brought my fist up towards his chin, but he wasn't as drunk as he seemed. He caught my right fist in his hand, so I brought up the left, but he caught that, too. I leaned back and brought my feet up to drill-kick him in the chest.
Marrick let go of my hands at the last minute, and caught my legs behind the knees, squeezing his body in between them and grinning like mad.
"Cozy?"
I snarled at him, and struggled viciously against him.
"Let go of me!"
"Stop acting like a fucking psycho!"
"Slut!"
"Bitch!"
"Enough!" bellowed Liam, taking hold of Marrick's shoulder. "Let go of her!"
Marrick didn't spare him a single glance.
"Keep touching me," he said carefully, "and you'll lose the hand." My would-be rescuer dropped his hand, his face paling. Shit, I didn't blame him. "Good choice," Marrick said coolly, and then he tossed me over his shoulder, with me still kicking and screaming.
He dropped ten septims next to the empty bottle of Black Briar Reserve. It was no wonder he was drunk; he'd finished it himself.
"Marrick, please!"
He paid no attention to me, and instead turned to Corpulus Vinius, my employer.
"Any vacancies?"
"No," Corpulus said coolly. "And, I'm not having this happen under my roof. Sir, you'll have to leave."
"Fifty septims say otherwise," Marrick said coyly. "And I've already dropped a hundred fifty into this shithole of an inn between drinks and the room. That's an even two hundred." He stepped closer, into Corpulus' face. "Now, I'll ask you once more: Any vacancies?"
Two minutes later, Marrick was kicking in the door to the room, with me slung over his shoulder screaming like a banshee.
"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!" I screeched, "I swear to every god, I'm going to fucking murder you!"
With that, he dumped me unceremoniously on the bed. I clambered around to face him, huffing and puffing, while he threw off his cloak and grinned at me dangerously.
"Is that a fact?" I launched a pillow at his pompous face, and he blocked deftly, no longer amused. "Why does everything have to be so difficult with you?"
"Isn't that my question?" I asked, appalled. "You can never just be on the same page as me!"
"Seriously, is that all you know how to say, Princess?" he wanted to know. "Marrick, you're too reckless, Marrick you oughta listen to me, Marrick, you don't know what you're doing." He shook his head viciously. "Stop trying to control everything; it isn't how life is supposed to be!"
"And, how is that? Running around with the stupid wind flowing in your stupid hair while you skip from bed to bed like a plague?"
"As opposed to treating the world like a fucking almanac that you can schedule so that everything in your life goes as you intend, aye." He smiled mockingly, "Oh, but if it's you, I'd also have to be sure not to make any time to feel anything for anybody, right? I mean, as neat as that schedule of yours is, you sure keep letting your past with Shazaa affect everything."
"You shut the fuck up."
"Why don't you come over here, and make me?"
"You know, you are such a little, whiny fuckwit," I sneered. "What, so, we kiss once and so you can start gallivanting around laying claims where you have none?"
"All I'm saying is you'd be much better off living for the moment than shying from it." He shrugged, looking so nonchalant and unconcerned, that it stung. "I mean hey, correct me if I'm wrong, but I doubt you'd be having all this gender confusion if someone fucked you every once in a while."
Now, if his first comment stung, then that one was more of a bodycheck.
"And, what, that's supposed to be you?"
He sighed dramatically, "Well, if you're going to beg. . ."
"I would rot in Soul Cairn first, you fucking pig!" I screamed. "And I take back that kiss!"
"Tough, sweetheart, 'cause I take it back first!"
"You fuckwit!"
"Frigid bitch."
"You slut," I hissed. "You fucking dog."
"Damn right, I'm a dog," he snarled coldly. Arrogantly. "They call me Stray Dog for a reason: I do what or who I want when I want to. Unlike some people, I don't need someone to draw borders that they say I can't cross." His gaze raked over me spitefully. "Last one who had any control over me was Adjin, and that was only because I owed it to him, not so that he could give the leash to you."
"And now, we come to it," I sneered. "The real reason why you can't stand me is because your very life is fixed to mine." He started to mutter curses under his breath. "But you can't blame that on me; you know it was Adjin's fault."
"Don't you fucking hide behind him; this is between us."
"Who's hiding? I'm only saying the truth," I spat. "Why? Have I touched a nerve?"
"You think you're so fucking smart, don't you? Don't you?" Marrick was in my face, his own going scarlet in anger. "Hiding is exactly what you're doing, stop changing the fucking subject."
"But that is the subject!" I announced. "You're the subject, Marrick, you're always the subject! Everything is always about doing things in secret so as to never upset you."
"Are you fucking serious-"
"As a plague!" I hollered. "You hate me because if I'm around, you can't live up to your true nature, because I can hold something over your arrogant little head."
"And what's that?"
"Your miserable life!"
"As if I gave two shits about it," he snorted. "I'm not like you, where if I found myself in some horrible situation I'd run myself crazy for how inconvenient it was to my well-structured existence. No," he smirked. "No, see, if I were going to die, it wouldn't be in fear; it'd be on my terms. I'd lay back, see, and I'd laugh in Arkay's face and say 'I was wondering when you'd show'."
"Bold words."
"For a bold man," he retorted. "But, I understand, Princess, if this is your first time dealing with one."
"You bold?" I scoffed. "Don't make me laugh. I've known men who are three times what you are."
"I thought we said no lies," he said with a smile so sly I nearly lost my breath. "You've met a man in me such as you've never seen, and that scares you."
I opened and closed my mouth, before I managed a response.
"Well, Ulfric-"
"-wasn't bold enough for shit, yes, I know. But, you aren't meant for him. Or anybody else, for that matter. You of all people should know at least that by now." He cocked his head, studying me as I squirmed, trying to keep from saying something that I shouldn't. "You're new to this, aren't you?
"New to what?"
"An inconvenience," he mused. "One that won't go away the way you want it to." I muttered something rude, and he smiled. "Just for once, you ought to stop fighting what you think is wrong. Because, there's always the off-chance that is isn't."
"And what's right?" I challenged. "Fucking you, just for the hell of it? I told you before, I won't be doing anything that will make me hate myself. And I know that would be a mistake."
"Only because that's what that orderly mind of yours has made it out to be." He smirked devilishly. "We would be great, and you know it."
"How did this conversation become about us fucking, anyway?"
"Because," he said, by way of an answer. "If you let me have control for once, of everything. Of you." He smiled hesitantly. "I could make you see. . ."
He trailed off at the dubious expression on my face.
"And become part of the many legions of faceless women you've had? No, thank you."
He took a moment to glower at me.
"Aye, you really do need a good fucking."
"Why from you?" I sneered, "I've already had the best. Men from all over the world, Marrick, but not just any random person like the women you fuck. See, they treat you like a common ale: it's a nice sentiment, a nice feeling for a while, and everybody gets to try some. But, me. . ." My chin raised, my smirk becoming more sly and spiteful. "For kings and princes, I'm that expensive Firebrand wine. The kind you can't find anywhere other than palace wineracks. That you never drink all at once because you savor it so." My smirk became a grin. "The kind the likes of you will never get to taste. That's the exclusivity that order and structure get you."
I waited for him to say something back; he was furious. A vein throbbed madly in his temple, he opened and closed his fists and drew each breath deep into his chest. His eyes pinned me to the spot, stormy in both color and purpose; they had that wild look in them.
He didn't respond wittily, no.
Instead, he crossed the room in two quick strides, seized me by my arm and my ornate braids, and yanked on my hair until I screamed. And, when my mouth was open, he used his own to do devastating things inside of it. I was losing my wits fast, as he bit down and sucked on my lower lip. As he drew circles on the roof of my mouth with his tongue.
He forced me back against the dresser, so hard I was vaguely aware of something clattering to the floor behind us. Marrick's hands gripped my thighs, and he hoisted me up to perch on the dresser, settling his body between my legs.
I remember having the faint fear that he was setting me on fire, and that if I let him, I would burn.
Thinking quickly and inspired by that fear, I felt around behind me for something on the dresser to use against him, and I came up with a glass bowl. I grabbed it, and brought it down hard on his head, where it shattered, the blow sending him to his knees.
I slid off the dresser, wiping my mouth, watching him warily and breathing hard. When he looked up at me, his eyes were wild once again.
"Marrick, stop it!"
He had been in mid-step, but that stopped him.
He lowered his reaching hand,staring at me, his head cocked to the side.
"No," he said. "No. Sure, I want you. I'll be the first to admit it." He shook his head. "But, not like this. No," he said again, shaking his head. "I'll let you come to me."
"That would never happen."
"You're drunk," he negated. "You're angry, too, but you have a right to that. And, you're not so drunk and angry that you can't at least admit to yourself how you feel."
"How I feel about what?"
I thought I was being clever. My heart was pounding in my throat.
"I understand that this has to be on your terms," he said, and wet his lips. "I get that. So, I'm letting you know right now: I'm going to close the distance between you and me," he informed me. I swallowed hard."Then," he continued, "I'm going to wait three seconds. And, at the end of those three seconds, you can either kiss me," he said, and shrugged, "or, I'll never bother you again."
"That's not what I-"
"I know that. I do." He shook his head. "But, I'm tired of watching you hide from me," he said. "You always talk about me, and us needing to be on the same page. Well, here I am, Rontu," he said, holding out his arms. "I'm on the next page. So, you can either turn yours, or we'll go back to how it was. Pretend like none of this ever happened."
I wet my lips, trying to find the right thing, the right choice.
I've always known what I wanted, that much is true. And, what I wanted with Marrick was always unclear before. But, now, everything was different. And what I knew was that I didn't want to lose him and that I did want to be with him. He was willing to give me control; that was what I wanted.
"One." I jerked from my thoughts, meeting his gaze. "Two," I took a deep breath. "Three," he said quietly. In that second, all my doubts crowded my mind again, and rooted my feet to the spot, making me forget what I'd decided.
How could I know he really wanted me?
"Four."
My eyes shot back up to Marrick's, and I couldn't stop the smile that came.
That was it. That fourth second was all the confirmation I needed.
I crossed the room in two long strides, and I kissed him.
Stunned for a moment, it wasn't long before he took me by the waist, once again positioning himself between my legs and lifting the hem of the scarlet dress. His hands glided warm and determined up my thighs until he gripped me by the hips, fingers digging into the skin possessively. He coupled this with grazing his lips along my collarbone, incensing me in a whole other way.
"These gold strings aren't here for no reason, Rontu," he continued, black eyes shining brightly. "You know that. We're connected, and not just by blood, our bodies-"
"Marrick-" I jerked against his hold on me, desperate, but it only tightened.
"See?" He stepped away from me, and I immediately felt cold and alone. He raised his hand and ran his knuckles down my arm, and my breath caught, my skin growing warm again. "Yours is like that because mine is near."
"You don't need to convince me anymore," I laughed. "I know now. I'm sure."
Marrick could only grin.
He brought my hips against his again, and this time I groaned.
"Do you feel that?" he asked. "Do you? Rontu-" he hooked his hand behind my neck, bringing my gaze back to his. "This is what you do to me."
I could feel his cock like steel between my thighs, pressing against my sex.
I bit deeper into my lower lip, clenching my fists that sat captured in his tightly. I felt empty and incomplete as all hell.
"Marrick," I hissed, "Marrick."
His right hand travelled from my hip, running across the skin of my inner thigh before slipping beneath my dress until the fingertips brushed my shaved pussy. His finger dipped inside me, curving up to stroke my inner walls like he was stoking a fire.
"Oh, gods," I whispered, finding a rhythm with his hand. He withdrew it then, and when my eyes opened to find out why he'd stopped, they locked with his as he brought his finger up to his lips and sucked it into his mouth, a sly, shameless smile on his face. "Oh, gods!"
He returned his hand beneath my skirt, adding a finger and stroking against me with a renewed vigor that had me panting. Just as I was reaching my peak, he stopped, leaving his fingers in me and just easing them from side to side.
"Marrick," I whispered, but it sounded like a question.
He brought my lips to his as a reply, his tongue mimicking his fingers which suddenly weren't enough for me. I let go of his tongue, and stepped away, pulling my dress over my head. He followed suit with his shirt, fumbling with the ties. I laughed breathlessly, carelessly as I started to help him.
He kissed me, slowly and deeply when it was off him, taking my face into his hands.
"Bed," he murmured, and kissed me again before sending up to the mattress as he shucked out of his trousers.
And just like that, there it was.
It wasn't my first time seeing a cock, or even his cock. But, it was my first time appreciating it.
It was long and thick, and an angry red.
He looked at me, and seemed, of all things, worried, wincing a little.
"What?" I smirked. "Having second thoughts?"
He smiled then, brilliantly, and eased his weight onto the bed, taking his place between my legs. We kissed again, and he laughed..
"You're beautiful," he smiled against my lips. "And there is nothing like you."
"Right back at you," I whispered.
I took his cock in my hands, and he sucked in a deep breath as I slowly drew him into me, bringing us both to satisfied groans when he bottomed out.
Marrick drew out and thrusted back in, and he did it again and again and again, and it felt so go and right, just as he'd said it would be. He started hitting deeper places within me, and hooked my right legs over his elbow so he could have more leverage with each thrust.
"Fuck, Rontu," he groaned, his voice husky.
His mouth lowered to find the breasts he had marveled at in Windhelm, and without warning, he bit down on my right nipple.
I gasped for air.
He continued on like that, again and again, between my two breasts until I became tired of him driving me insane, and pressed my hands against his stomach, forcing him to turn over.
The grin on his face as I straddled him again was unmistakable, and I couldn't help but smile back.
"My terms" I said. "Remember?"
I wet my lips, and lowered myself back down onto his cock, shutting my eyes tight at the feeling of him within me. I eased myself into a rhythm of rising and dropping down his length as he grunted beneath me, playing with my breasts as my fingers tightened in his hair.
As I began to reach my peak, I could tell he was, too, because he abandoned my tits, his fingers digging into my hips and fucking me hard as he slammed his own hips up to meet mine. I grabbed the headboard, grinding against him, meeting each of his thrusts, our breaths harsh and ragged as we raced to climax.
We came at the same time, his shout and my scream filling the whole world it seemed, as he exploded in me, and I exploded around him. As we came down, our breaths were still coarse, my forehead nestled in the crook of his neck, and his lips in the crook of mine, clutching each other as if we shared a skin.
"You know who I am," he whispered suddenly, against my ear. "You know."
I smiled, and pulled back so I could see his face: a satisfied grin and hooded eyes as dark as night.
"Yes," I whispered back. "Yes, I do."
