I walked to Suran. I was cold, wet, injured, and scared out of my mind that a wizard made from ash would teleport out of nowhere at any time to kill me. The sun had risen by the time I entered the city gates. My leg ached, no longer life threatening as I'd been able to stop the bleeding, but it was still plenty painful. I asked a guard where I could find the house of earthly delights.

"It's a bit early for that, don't you think stranger?" I couldn't answer. At the blank look of exhaustion I gave him, the guard propped his spear on his shield arm and pointed up the street. "Look for the red lantern on the front of the building."

I turned to see that it was less than a block away. Summoning up my strength, I completed my journey. At the door, I hesitated. What kind of place was this again? If it was a house, I should knock, but it had a sign out front that looked as though it was some kind of business. I cracked the door open and saw a mostly empty taproom. Deciding it was a business, I entered.

Inside, a couple of men sat at a table. I went to the bar and, finding it empty, rapped on the counter with my knuckles.

"I'll be but a moment dear," a sweet human voice called from a backroom. I leaned heavily on the counter for support. A few moments later, a Breton woman glided out of the back room and to the bar. The first thing I inevitably noticed was her suggestive clothing. Her top was fine silk and left her shoulders and stomach fully exposed. The thin white material almost let you make out the shapes on the other side.

She covered her mouth and stifled a gasp at the sight of me. "Why dear boy, you look like you've had a terrible trial." Her manners were very purposefully feminine. She leaned on the bar across from me, her chest noticeably jutting forward over the counter. I tried to ignore it. "What is it I can do for you stranger?"

"Are you the matron," I asked, staying focused on the task at hand?

"I am Helviane Desele and yes, I own the house of earthly delights. Now which of your guilty pleasures can we satisfy?"

"I'm just looking for a woman named Marelle."

Recognition flashed in her eyes. "Are you the one who's on business with my associates at the South Wall?" She flashed a gleaming white smile behind full, dark red lips.

"That's me," I admitted.

"Well, you'll be happy to know that your stay has been paid for in full by your employer. While you're here, you are welcome to any and all of the services we offer." Desele took a small silver bell from behind the counter and gave it a ring. A clothesless Khajiit woman descended some stairs.

"You called Mistress."

"Yes Khinjarsi. This is Marelle's appointment. See that his needs are taken care of."

"Of course Mistress Desele." The Khajiit turned to me, smiling slyly. "The Gentleman with follow Khinjarsi."

I took a deep breath and forced my pained leg to take me up the stairs after her. I could smell a number of things on the air, one of which stood out to me as skooma. It seemed a number of different perfumes also vied for attention.

"Forgive my ignorance ma'am," I asked, reverting to the Imperial term I'd grown up with. "Just what kind of business is this?"

Khinjarsi smiled and stopped a Dunmer girl in a short skirted maids outfit. She took a food tray from her and dismissed her. "This is a place where men can take care of whatever needs they have, whether it be food, drink, elixir, or…" she fell silent, picking grape and drawing dangerously close to me until she was practically hanging on me. "Anything." She pressed the grape to my lips, giving me the most suggestive look I'd ever gotten.

My gut clenched, but I cursed silently at the memory of Addhiranirr. What was with these Khajiit? Why did they act so… sexy? Except for Ajira.

I reached up and took her hand with the grape in it, directing it away from my face. "What I need is to meet Marelle."

Khinjarsi smirked. "Very well." She turned and led the way to one door of many in a long hallway. She rapped on the door with her knuckles. "Marelle. Your dark elf is here. And he's very excited to see you," she added teasingly, making me blush.

"Please, come in," a silkie voice answered. Khinjarsi curtsied and left. I opened the door, somewhat expecting what I found. Marelle was another Breton, although, younger than Desele. And prettier. Her clothes were silken and once again, thin and very revealing. Her fine face barely showed any trace of the part elven genealogy of her people with round ears and eyes.

I entered and closed the door behind me. From her seat on the bed, Marelle asked, "What is it I can help you with?"

I grunted. "Spare me the innuendo. I have a job to do."

The courtesan stood and lit a candelabra to see me better. " No reason to be so brusque. Someone from the guild will be along to fetch you when they need you, but that could be hours from now." She took a look at me and pursed her lips. "Perhaps you'd be more interested in a hot bath than in my, usual ministrations. Shall I draw one for you?"

I took a deep breath. "I never asked for anything like this. What's the game?"

Marelle rolled her eyes, brushing my cheek as she crossed to the door. "The only reason you'd be sent here is if someone is trying to get on your good side. Do make yourself comfortable."

She excused herself, leaving me in a room of fineries, decorated with velvet drapes, silk sheets, and a canvas painting which caught my eye. I recognized the scene as the port of the Cyrodilic city of Anvil. I laid on the bed, clothes still damp, and closed my eyes. I focused my thoughts on getting home. Mother would have left a trail for me, but it had been half a year or more. How would I track her down?

A knock at the door caused me to start awake. "Begging your pardon Sera, but your bath is ready."

I groaned slightly. "Yes, I'm coming."

Marelle led me to a bathhouse in the rear section of the building. There were six brass tubs all in the same room. Bath houses were a custom from Cyrodiil that I had grown up with, however I'd never attended a bathhouse in… well, a brothel. In Cyrodiil, public bathhouses were strictly segregated for decency, but it seemed that in here, the courtesans attended to the male baths.

There were two women besides Marelle. The Khajiit, Khinjarsi, who was tending a fire to heat the bathwater and a Nord woman who was massaging the shoulders of a burly Nord man in one of the other tubs. I hesitated after finding the tub that had been filled for me.

Marelle seemed to know exactly what was troubling me. "Feel free to undress. We're not here to judge."

I moistened my lips, not meeting her eyes, but began to disrobe. I took off my cloak and shirt which she offered to take. "I don't suppose I could have those washed and mended, could I?"

"Of course muthsera." I turned so I was facing away from everyone as I stripped off the pants and underwear and quickly sunk into the tub. The Nord man laughed.

"What's wrong son, do you have a small knob?"

I went red in the face and leaned back in the tub. "Well, it's really none of your business, but I was captured and castrated by an enemy."

"Ooh," the Nord said with a pained expression. "In that case I apologize, I wouldn't have brought it up if…"

"Just forget it," I cut him off.

He fell silent, but only for a few moments. "I have to ask," he ventured carefully. "Can you still, you know… Get it up?"

I reached up to massage the bridge of my nose. "I don't rightly know. I haven't… been with anyone before." I of course knew what he was talking about. Despite being a virgin, I'd felt what every young man feels during puberty, but even when flirting with Addhiranirr, I hadn't noticed the familiar pressure. "Even so, I'm not comfortable discussing it with a stranger."

"Of course, where are my manners? My name is Snorri." I gave him a longsuffering glance as he made to bow dramatically from his tub. He looked like a typical Nord berserker. His face was covered in blue tattoos and his long hair was loose and wet, but looked like it was usually braided in several places. His beard was moderate for a Nord, well kempt and short. I suspected that it was trimmed recently as a part of this spa treatment. His shoulders were broad and I assumed he was quite tall when standing upright. "Forgive me, my curiosity often gets the better of me. Still, if you want to know what still works down there, there's no better place in Vvardenfell to figure it out than here. Isn't that right Runa?"

"That's what we're here for," the Nord woman said. She turned to me. "Our dear Marelle has a thing for Dark elves. She'll treat you well."

I turned to stare at the ceiling, wishing the conversation to end. Instead of giving a response, I lifted my injured leg out of the water. Pink, tender skin covered the entry and exit wound from the arrow that had struck me. I gently scrubbed off the blood that had caked onto the skin overnight. The spot was still very tender and I knew the muscle was mangled. I'd walk with a limp until I healed it properly.

I closed my eyes, feeling the spot with my fingers and visualizing the severed tissues stretching back into place. I couldn't quite suppress my pained groan as the tissues obeyed my will. Once in place, I directed the muscle to start binding itself back together until my magic reserve ran dry. Becoming sleepy again, I was only vaguely aware of Marelle returning from wherever my clothes had been taken to.

"Could I interest you in a haircut while you're relaxing?"

I forced my eyes open. "Do you have a mirror so I can see the damage?" The Breton fetched one, handing it to me. My hair was not only singed, but melted into clumps on the left two thirds of my scalp. "I suppose one is in order."

"I'd ask how you want it styled, but considering the state of your hair, I'm afraid we'll just have to shave it. There's not enough left to save for anything else."

I nodded sullenly and leaned my head back. Marelle procured some shears, shaving cream, and a straight razor. It took some work to separate the clumps from my scalp without stabbing me with the shears or tearing at my scalp, but the courtesans hands were steady and gentle as she patiently worked on me. Once the clumps were removed, she rubbed the shaving cream into what remained of my hair and went to work with the razor.

"Don't talk and stay still sera." With skill, she scraped the edge over my scalp, parting the hairs from their follicles without harming the skin.

"I think you'd look good with one of those mohawks some of you Dunmer warriors wear," Snorri offered from his tub.

I waited for Marelle to dry my clean shaved scalp with a towel before running my hands over the smooth surface. "I think it may be awhile before my hair can be styled again. Besides, I try not to call attention to myself."

Snorri chuckled as Runa rebraided his hair. "You elves are funny with your sneaky ways. I figure my appearance ought to be striking to put fear into the hearts of my opponents."

I gestured for a towel from Marelle and stood, wrapping myself and stepping out of the tub. "That's a difference between us Nord. My opponents rarely see me at all." I turned to Marelle who offered me a robe. "I'll be returning to my room now."

"Of course sera."

I let her show me the way, having forgotten which room was mine. She opened one of the rooms and stepped in, proffering me inside. "We'll bring your clothes for you once they are dry. Is there anything else I can offer you?"

"No, that will be all. Thank you." I realized she wasn't leaving and turned back to her. She had closed the door behind her and was advancing on me.

"Are you sure sera. Food, drink, massage?" She placed her hands on my sides. "Me?"

I froze as her face drew nearer to mine, but didn't quite close the distance. My chest seemed to tighten and I could feel my heart hammering in my chest. A heat flared inside me, similar to when I used magic, but less controlled and more visceral like an animal. In a burst of desire, I leaned in and pressed my lips to hers. I took her lower lip between my own and gently suckled at it before pulling away. She didn't let the separation last. Her lips were back upon mine in a moment, pulling me back to her. Her hands moved up to my back, pulling my body against hers. Her fingers brushed over the newly healing cut on my shoulder and I had to pull back with a quiet hiss of pain.

"Easy on the shoulder." She moved that hand to my chest, working it past the folds of my robe to feel the muscle underneath. Her other hand went to the back of my now bald head, pulling me back to her lips and gently stimulating the sensitive hair follicles.

I found myself reciprocating, running my hand through her hair and tracing the curves of her body. Kissing Marelle was different than any girl I'd kissed before. A guildmaster's daughter in Bruma, the counts niece in Leyawiin. I'd romanced both of them as a part of a job, but this time, there was no looking over my shoulder, no pressing for information in weak moments or stealing when her back was turned. There was just warmth and contact. I wanted this. I wanted someone to be close to. For once, I could miss having close family without feeling empty. Without wishing for human contact. Marelle was here and she wanted me. It was so good to be wanted for something other than killing."

She wrapped her arms around my neck and slid one thigh up between my legs. I felt a definite stirring down there. She broke lip contact and slid her cheek on mine till her lips were at my ear. "Take me to bed you rugged Dunmer."

This gave me pause. I forced myself to stop and think while she suckled on my earlobe and kissed along my jawline. Despite the need I felt in my chest and groin, I pulled back. "I… I can't."

"Come on, just follow my lead."

I laid a firm hand on her side. "I can't do that. I shouldn't even be doing this." She looked dejected as I pulled away.

"What's wrong Han lu? Why shouldn't you be able to enjoy yourself?"

I sat on the bed and Marelle sat beside me so that our thighs touched.. When I wouldn't meet her eyes, she knelt in front of me. "You can tell me. I'm here to take care of you." When I didn't answer, she asked, "Is it because I'm a human?"

I couldn't stop a guffaw. "No, not at all. You're very beautiful and I wish it were that simple."

Marelle laid her head in my robed lap. "You can tell me."

I took a deep breath. "I guess it's about my parents. In my eyes, they always had the ideal relationship. They worked well together, they never argued about stupid things. In our line of work, my father knew some of the most beautiful and powerful women in Cyrodiil, but he only ever had eyes for my mother." I risked meeting her eyes, fighting the temptation that came from the connection "I've always wanted that in my own relationship, at least in the back of my mind. If I fool around… it will taint that dream. I'll never be able to say, she's the only one for me." I shook my head. "That probably sounds childish."

I felt a hand on my cheek and I was forced to look at Marelle, her eyes sparkling. "Not at all. That's so romantic." She stood, finally surrendering to my wishes. "I hope you find a girl worthy of you. She'll be very lucky to have you." She clasped her hands in front of her, now acting more like a house servant than a seductress. "Will there be anything else sera?"

I smiled and stood to see her out. "No, that will be all."

Marelle took her leave and I laid on the bed, once again feeling the lack of human contact. "I will make a life for myself one day," I promised. "I'll find love."