In the sixth month of the 201st year in the fourth era, the prophecy of the Last Dragonborn was fulfilled.

Alduin returned in the middle of the bloodiest conflict in Skyrim's history, and not long after, he began raising dragons from the dead.

Then, the last Dragonborn was revealed. A Nord by the name of Erik Far-Giver, who assisted in slaying the Dragon Mirmulnir, and absorbed his soul.

A day later, he made his journey towards Ivarstead and was welcomed with open arms by the Greybeards in High Hrothgar.

There, he was given tests to prove himself as Dragonborn, and then given a final test to return the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller, which was kept safe in the Nordic Ruin of Ustengrav.

Erik traveled North to the ruin, fought his way through a horde of Draugr, only to find that the horn had already been taken.

Aggravated but yearning to learn more about his place as Dragonborn, he continued his journey north, to Winterhold, where he spent weeks researching the past.

He learned to speak as the Dovah do, learned about the dragonborn rulers of old, of the man who claimed godhood and established an Empire that would span across Tamriel, and of the men who were thought to be Dragonborn.

When he departed the college, filled with knowledge, Erik Far-Giver traveled the western half of Skyrim, fighting the dragons that Alduin had risen. He learned many words of power, and created many more through various tests.

Then he was reminded of his mission.

A simple courier with a message from the Greybeards that found him in Solitude.

Erik wasted no time. He bought a horse from the stalls outside the city and rushed to the hold of Whiterun, where he encountered a patrol of Thalmor, escorting a Khajiit woman.

Through his travels, he'd seen and heard of the horrors that the Thalmor had brought to his lands, and he hated them for it.

He engaged them and overcame the small group with the power of his Thu'um, and the woman urged him to go back to Riverwood to find "The Young One."

Erik pointed her in the direction of a Khajiit Caravan, and he rushed to Riverwood to find a couple of bounty hunters, and a strange looking Khajiit, bound and gagged.

After a short fight, Erik brought the girl to his cabin in the small town, and thus began a journey that would bring love into the Dragonborn's life, and test his power as Dovahkiin through the fights that would determine the fate of his Khajiit companion.

Though the Thalmor would hunt them down, the Dragonborn would prevail and live on to slay Alduin, the World-Eater in Sovngarde, with a shout that Akatosh himself gave to the Dragonborn.

Five months have passed since Alduin's return and downfall. Now, a new day rises with the morning sun.

The Dragonborn opens his eyes and is greeted with the sight of the newly finished roof of his new house in Falkreath Hold.

He groaned and wrapped his arms around a pregnant and nude M'rissi, his hands wondered her body and found their place on her breasts.

"Dii lokaal?" He whispered and planted a small kiss on her neck.

The Khajiit moaned, her eyes still shut.

He grinned and crawled into their covers and inched her legs apart.

"My love, you need to wake up." He raised his voice to a soft voice as he lowered himself to kiss her growing, firm, belly.

"She does not want to wake up…" M'rissi slurred out.

"You're forcing my hand here, lokaal." He replied in a sing-song voice.

"Maybe she wants to force your hand…" She smirked, though her eyes stayed shut.

Erik returned the smirk and extended his tongue into her soft folds and began to lick and suck on her womanhood.

He loved her taste, Erik could almost taste the sugar from the sweet rolls she snacked on the previous night.

Soft moans escaped M'rissi's lips as her lover went on, then he paused just as she inched her way towards climax.

Before she could express her frustration, however, Erik pushed his member deep into her and locked his lips around hers.

"I'm so happy we decided to visit Galathil and change your womb…" He sighed as he began to thrust into her at a steady pace.

M'rissi couldn't speak.

Her pregnancy had made her much more sensitive, and she loved it. Her moans filled their lake-side home as she wrapped her arms around the Dragonborn and curled her fingers.

She bucked her hips into him, while he slid into her as deep as he could.

They stayed like this for what seemed like hours.

M'rissi would cum, Erik would pause for her to catch her breath, and then he'd start up again. They continued this cycle until the Khajiit wrapped her legs around her lover, and he filled her insides with his seed.

"Gods…" He moaned as he rolled over on his back. "You're getting tighter." He grinned and kissed her cheek.

"She thought you felt bigger." She giggled and returned the kiss, this time on his lips. "She loves waking up like that."

"And I love waking you up like that." He replied and sat up. "Come on, we should get ready and head to Falkreath." The Dragonborn urged as he pushed himself out of bed and grabbed some clothes from his dresser and threw them on.

"But she doesn't want to travel to the town…" M'rissi grumbled.

"I know, I know, but it's better to make sure the baby is still healthy, and Runil is the only one who can do that around these parts, without going all the way to Whiterun like we used to do."

"M'rissi knows. She hates travel. But she will, because she does not want anything to happen to her kitten!" The young woman replied as she got up and dawned her own clothes.

It wasn't long before they were downstairs, and an older, more feline looking Khajiit met them.

"You two are not very quiet." S'ahara grinned as she started to cook their breakfast. "If you are to have kittens, M'rissi will have to learn to be quiet."

"She cannot help it." The young Khajiit blushed.

"I'll have to make the walls and floors a bit thicker then." Erik replied with a smirk. "M'rissi was never good at being quiet."

"M'rissi can be quiet! Just…not with that."

"Well, either way, it'd be nice to have a little more privacy." Erik shrugged as the older Khajiit brought them their food and sat across from them. "It's also nice to have you here."

"It is nice to be here. This one thanks you for your hospitality." S'ahara nodded.

"It's not just hospitality, S'ahara. This is your home too, now."

"And it feels like home." She purred. "This one is glad that the young one met such a caring individual. This one is also glad that you were able to deal with that Thalmor witch."

"Then you'll be glad to hear that the Thalmor will no longer be bothering us." Erik spoke and rose. He walked to the far side of the room and grabbed a note, a letter, from the table in the back room and began to read. "Dragonborn," He started. "I hope that this is the only time I have to do this. I've been informed that my predecessor was wasting Aldmeri resources chasing you and your significant other around Skyrim." Erik rolled his eyes.

He could see the spot where the author of the note had begun to write "cat", but crossed it out, too lazy to start another note. He wondered how many times he attempted to write this.

"I apologize for this. This was an abuse of power, and in direct contradiction with her orders. This letter is to inform you that you will no longer be pursued by Thalmor agents, and that your actions have been forgiven." He finished and gave the note to S'ahara. "That was written by the new Head Justiciar, Ulquarion. A courier handed me the letter last night, while I was chopping wood for the fireplace."

"This is good news!" The Khajiit grinned.

"Indeed, it is." Erik nodded and sat back down to begin eating. "That takes care of the one other thing we were worried about. The Dragons have been behaving themselves, and now the elves have ceased chasing us."

"It seems like things are slowing down." M'rissi chimed in. "She does not mind this."

"Neither do I." Erik replied and kissed his lover. "As much as I enjoy burning Thalmor and Dragons to ash, I much prefer living a quiet life with the woman I love." He sighed, happy, before he finished his meal and thanked S'ahara. "We need to get going, now, we will be back later today."

"Be safe." The woman replied with a sweet smile. "You aren't going to go in your armor?"

"Don't need it." He replied. "Falkreath isn't that far, and if any wolves attack, I have Kyne's Peace." He shrugged. "Anyways, come on, M'rissi. We need to get going." He told her as he got up and started towards the front entrance.

"Wait for M'rissi! She does not want to have to walk to the grave town!" The girl exclaimed as she got up and chased her lover.

Soon, they were on the back of a carriage as it rolled through the forest of Falkreath Hold.

It wasn't long before they were at the small town and greeted by Runil and brought to the Hall of the Dead.

"I apologize for the rather grim setting." The Priest of Arkay gave a sympathetic smile and brought a chair to the young Khajiit. "Unfortunately, the priests of Arkay are confined to these halls to ensure that the dead are not corrupted."

M'rissi hesitated, the golden skin of the high-elf before her sent shivers down her spine.

"M'ri." Erik nudged her and offered his hand.

"Is something wrong?" Runil asked.

"M'rissi has had bad experiences with high elves." Erik replied and took his lover's hand. "Thalmor, more specifically."

"Oh, my. I can assure you, I'm nothing like the Thalmor. I want nothing to do with them." The elf tried to assure her. "I want nothing more than to help you deliver your child safely."

"How can she trust you?" M'rissi asked.

"M'rissi, the priests of Arkay only have loyalty to the Divine. If I thought he was some kind of spy, I'd have never brought you here. You don't have to trust him, but you know you can trust me."

M'rissi's stance softened a bit, and she, hesitantly, sat down on the chair that the priest offered.

Runil gave a kind smile and brought his hand over her belly and a soft, golden glow enveloped his hand.

"I'm curious, how does a Nord impregnate a Khajiit?" He asked and looked up to Erik. "I thought the beast races couldn't reproduce with the races of Man and Mer."

"Normally, they couldn't." Erik replied and knelt behind M'rissi, arms wrapped around her in a gentle hug to give her comfort. "I had a friend in Riften, Galathil."

"Ah, yes, the face sculptor."

"Well, turns out, Is…er…the Altmer that changed M'rissi to what she is used a similar magic, but stopped short of reproduction." He continued. "Galathil just had to finish what she'd started. Technically, M'rissi is a hybrid of Khajiit and Man, now."

"Amazing. The first hybrid between man and beast…" Runil pondered the possibilities as the glow around his hand faded. "Your baby is healthy, so far, there's nothing I can detect that would change that. However, I am curious to see how the moon cycles affect the physical appearance of the child."

"Why would the moons affect M'rissi's kitten?" The Khajiit asked.

"You don't know?" Runil replied with a question of his own. "The Khajiit have a very special connection to Masser and Secunda. In fact, the two moons and their phases determine the furstock a Khajiit is born under."

"Furstock?" She asked. "Such a silly name…what is it?"

"A furstock is the name given to different kinds of Khajiit." Erik cut in. "Most Khajiit in Skyrim are Cathay, and from S'ahara's descriptions, you were probably a Dagi before you were changed."

"She…does not know what any of this means. The Thalmor witch never let M'rissi learn about her people. She knows nothing about them." M'rissi replied, saddened as she looked down.

Erik sighed and kissed the back of M'rissi's head.

"Then it's a good thing we have S'ahara. She can teach you everything about the culture you come from."

"She would like that…" M'rissi looked to Erik with a smile. "She would also like to leave this place. It smells of dead Nords."

"My apologies." Runil gave a small bow and motioned to the door. "You are free to leave. If anything happens to change, please, come find me."

"Thank you, Runil. It's nice to know that we have a priest not far from reach. Riverwood was nice, but the nearest temple was in Whiterun, and that's just too far."

"M'rissi would not want to ride that long when she is ready to pop!" M'rissi gave a small giggle, though she still watched Runil with caution as she stood and neared the door.

"Indeed." Runil nodded. "I can see how that would be uncomfortable."

"Anyways, thank you again."

"It's not a problem, really." The priest replied, and the two of them left the small building.

"M'rissi would like to relax on the cart if you would not mind." The young Khajiit spoke as they left.

"Go ahead, lokaal. S'ahara gave me a list of food she'd like me to get last night, I'll be a while."

"Mrrow…she will have a nice nap while you are getting the food!" M'rissi purred and rushed off to the cart that they arrived in, while Erik left to find the general goods store.

"Excuse me!" A young imperial man spoke up as he neared the store. "I don't normally do this, but…have you got a moment to talk?" He asked and approached the Nord with caution.

"I've got a minute." The Nord replied. "What do you need?"

"My name is Lucien Flavius, I'm a scientist, philosopher, amateur wizard, and something of a musician, though I suppose that's more of a hobby." The young man rambled on, and Erik soon regretted his choice to engage with him. "I couldn't help noticing that you seem…how can I put this…well acquainted with the less savory side of Skyrim?"

Erik cocked his eyebrow.

"I'm the Dragonborn. Less savory is a bit of an understatement, but look, I've hung my sword up. If you're looking for an adventurer, go to Whiterun, join the Companion's Guild. They might toughen you up a bit."

"The Dragonborn?" Flavius' eye's widened to the size of dinner plates. "You're the Dragonborn? The Last Dragonborn? The one who's supposed to slay Alduin, The World-Eater?"

"Already killed him. Even claimed his right-hand Dovah."

"Then maybe you can help me! I'm on an expedition, academic mainly. I just find this province so fascinating—"

"Do you have wool in your ears, boy?" Erik asked. "I said I put my sword up. I have a child on the way, and I don't plan on spending weeks on end traveling just because some bookworm decided he wanted my help. I'm sorry, but you'll have to find someone else."

Lucien looked away, disappointed.

"Alright then." He sighed. "Thank you for your time…I guess I'll just spend the last of my gold in the Inn and try to head back home."

The man started to walk away, but Erik sighed.

"Damn it." He cursed under his breath. "Look, I can't travel with you, but I have enough room in my home for one more. I can give you a place to stay and food to eat for a couple days and help you earn some coin."

Lucien perked up.

"Really? You'd do that for me?"

"As long as you don't mind sleeping in a basement, and don't disrespect me or my family, yes."

"Well, it's better than sleeping in the cold, and I'd be a fool to cross someone who's reached out in hospitality! Thank you so much!" Lucien grinned.

"Wait here, I have some food that I need to get." The Dragonborn told him and entered the shop.

Moments later, he and Lucien returned to the cart that Erik and M'rissi had came in on.

"M'rissi." He spoke and nudged his lover.

"Wha…?" She groaned, but didn't open her eyes.

"We'll be having a guest over for a couple days. Is that okay with you?"

"She is fine…as long as they do not touch M'rissi's sweet rolls." She slurred out and Erik shrugged before climbing aboard and helping Lucien on.

"Is…she a Khajiit?" The Scholar asked. "I've not seen one like her. Not even the Ohmes or Ohmes-Raht look similar…"

"She was a Dagi, at one point." Erik replied, but kept his voice soft to avoid waking her. "She was the adopted daughter of Isael, the head Thalmor Justiciar of Skyrim. She used her magic to change M'rissi."

"I've heard stories about her. She sounded quite brutal, but apparently she met her match with a Dragon."

"That's what the Thalmor are spreading?" Erik asked, amused. "Well, I suppose they aren't completely lying, though they forgot to mention where that Dragon happened to be a very pissed off Nord."

"Wait, you're saying you killed her? And the Thalmor aren't hunting you?"

"The witch was apparently using resources and disobeying orders. The new head Justiciar forgave my actions." Erik shrugged. "Even gave me a note and everything. Then again, I did tear apart an entire battalion and burn their commander to ash, but I doubt that had anything to do with it."

Lucien gave a shocked chuckle and shook his head.

"So, you not only slain the World-Eater, but one of the most brutal Thalmor? My, you've certainly lived a story worth telling."

"I'd rather not, if it's all the same to you." Erik replied. "I just want to live in peace, I don't need scholars coming to my house and disrupting that peace."

"Oh! No, I wouldn't dream of it, my friend. I can't imagine being that callous, but I would still like to hear about your journeys, if you wouldn't mind!"

"I might spin a few tales tonight, if you join us at the dinner table." Erik offered.

"Well, I'll be sure to do that!" The newcomer replied before he returned his attention to M'rissi. "So, the child she's carrying is…yours? I assume it's because of the magic that was used on her?"

"Pretty much." The Dragonborn replied with a nod. "I couldn't be happier though. M'rissi is the love of my life, and if anything happened to her, I'm not sure what I'd do."

"Well, it's good that she found such a caring person, especially after being with such a toxic elf."

"She almost didn't." Erik remarked as they neared a walled off Lakeview Manor.

"Dragonborn." One of the guards gave a small bow and ordered the gates to be opened.

"You even have your own guards?"

"Nine guards from all nine holds, even Haafingar and Eastmarch." Erik replied as the cart came to a stop. "They Jarls of Skyrim wanted to show me that they appreciated what I did, and so, Jarl Siddgeir sent men to build the house and walls, and one of his guards, the other eight sent one guard for each hold."

"So, do the guards from Solitude and Windhelm argue?"

"Surprisingly no. I was just as surprised" Erik replied as he nudged M'rissi again. "M'ri, we're home."

"M'rissi is tired…" She moaned out. "Can you carry her?" Erik chuckled and lifted his lover before they left the cart. As the two moved to enter the house, Erik stopped and pointed out a medium sized building built into the walls. "That's where the guards stay. If you need help and I'm not here, they'll be glad to help you."

"Erik, back so soon?" S'ahara grinned as they entered the house and Erik brought M'rissi upstairs to lay her down. "Who is our guest?"

When Erik returned, he sat down at the large table at the center of the house.

"His name is Lucien Flavius, and he approached me in Falkreath, looking for help."

"I'm still curious, why help me? Surely, some nobody from Cyrodiil doesn't mean much to the Dragonborn."

"Well, I've learned that being kind and helping someone in need might result in a rather interesting outcome." The Dragonborn replied and motioned to S'ahara. "This is the Khajiit that helped M'rissi escape. She was the first who was almost recaptured, and the one that led me to M'rissi. A chance encounter led me to the love of my life."

"I see. Well, I am quite thankful for the hospitality." Lucien smiled. "I just hope it's no trouble to you."

"It is no trouble at all." S'ahara cut in. "It is nice to have a guest that isn't looking for something…more."

"More?" Flavius asked.

"Many people that come here to meet me are mostly women. M'rissi almost clawed the last one's eyes out."

"Oh…oh." Lucien's eyes widened a bit, but he chuckled. "I guess that's what happens when you save the world."

"I wish it happened less. I missed people not knowing who the hell I was." Erik sighed, but chuckled. "Although, the walls help. The guards have learned to not let the women in, after the last one."

"Well, it must be nice to have guards watching your house all the time."

"It is, but to be honest, I wouldn't trust them to take on anything more than a few bandits or dragur." Erik shrugged. "Anyways, S'ahara, I got the ingredients you asked for." The Nord lifted his bag from his back and slid it to the older Khajiit.

"Ah, good. This one has wanted to make an Elsweyr dish for a while, but has had to substitute certain ingredients. These should do. This one thanks you, Erik."

"Well, this one," Erik grinned and pointed to himself, "is hungry. And I'm sure our guest would like some proper food, instead of the overcooked meat you'd find in an inn."

"Yes, I did notice that the quality of food in Skyrim is rather poor, at least in inns."

"Nords don't much care for quality, at least those who are travelling, so the inn-keeps don't bother making sure everything is cooked to perfection." The Dragonborn replied and stood to start helping set the table. "S'ahara, however, she's a stickler for culinary perfection, and it pays off."

"When one is trained in the art, it's hard to ignore. One of the very few benefits of living with a High-Elf who prides herself on putting a façade of class." The Khajiit smiled and started to take the ingredients and prepare them.

"I don't think I've ever had anything from Elsweyr, although I've heard Khajiiti food is exquisite!" Lucien smiled and helped Erik set the table.