A/N: Hello and welcome to chapter 21 of WotN. So, I suppose I should explain how the fuck there are now two Alanas running around Tamriel. One healing and trying to be a better person, the other bringing chaos and death. There is a reason for it, trust me.
I'm feeling like a naughty bastard, so there is filth. Be careful with erotic asphyxiation, please.
Whispers of the Night
Summary: One year after Serana died and she left Astrid, Alana has left for Solstheim to be alone and never harm another innocent. Enemies new and old are rising, and it is never easy for one to free themselves from the shackles of their demons…
*Book 2: Oblivion Walker Part 13*
The stench of death and the ill was enough to make any normal person curl their lip in disgust as the dread knight silently crept around the city of Riften. Maven had been a nice feed and there would be very few people upset at her death, but it would bring the chaos and panic she craved so dearly. The pale blonde let out a sadistic giggle at the thought of people eventually seeing what horrors she could inflict on the plague known as mortal kind. So soft, so delicate and easily broken. Compared to the powers of the daedra, elves and men alike were nothing but little toys to be played with at their leisure.
Alana Alter knew why she was born into this world full of weak whimpering parasites. To bring despair, to be the harbinger of malice and cruelty. She had been so cruelly ripped from the Dragonborn's soul and forced to take this form. Alana could pretend all she wanted. Alter was a part of her and there was nothing to dispute that fact. They could not exist without the other. They were balance, true balance. With Alana out doing more good in the world, more chaos was necessary to bring balance back to the winds.
Alter grinned at the sight of an unaware soldier standing guard by one of the city's rusted gates. The poor fool was wobbling with intoxication and didn't even hear the pale blonde grab her scythe. One quick swing and the soldier's headless corpse fell to the ground. Blood spurted from the wound and Alter rested her bloodied weapon next to her before cradling the body in her arms. Her throat burned with thirst and she complied with her instincts, sinking her fangs into the stump of the soldier's neck and feeding.
This was her purpose, her reason for living, and she relished in it. The power she had been granted to walk amongst these pathetic little worms was so intoxicating, so invigorating. The blonde couldn't get enough of it. The feel of her scythe carving through flesh, the rush of blood as limbs became severed, and the taste. Oh the taste of a fresh kill was so refreshing.
But these pathetic men were not enough. Not for Alter. She needed more to really set the world ablaze like she wanted. Her goddess demanded it; who was she to object? It was why she took this form, to do what her other self could never. Bathe in the blood of innocents and weave despair into the hearts of mortals.
Her daedric boots clinked lightly against the stone walkways that bordered the outskirts of Riften, sending whatever creature that crossed her path skittering away in fear. Rabbits hopped out of sight in seconds, yet Alter could tell that someone was following her. Pathetic little men had no business interfering with her, resorting to dogging her footsteps in the shadows as if the blonde couldn't hear the rustling of leather straps.
'Damned cowards.' Alana Alter stopped and let her head lower, her vampiric senses roaming free to get a good smell of her pursuers. Five men, possibly seeking revenge for the deaths her original caused. "Come out now, and I'll be sure to make your deaths painless. Continue this pathetic stalking and I'll tear your souls out."
She heard them move into formation and draw their weapons. A few greatswords, a war axe, and a traditional longsword. Nothing she couldn't easily destroy. Alana Alter turned around and smiled at the men, taking a few slow steps towards them. "Well, well, well. All this for me? How exciting!"
She clasped her hands together like a child who had been given their favourite toy and giggled like a madwoman. "This will be such great fun! Oooh~! I know! I'll even make it a bit more sporting for you!" The pale blonde took her daedric scythe and flung it on the ground, smile growing wider.
"So, who is this retribution for?" she asked mockingly, tilting her head to the side. "It can't be for those cowardly thieves, can it? Oh, wait~! It's for Mjoll, isn't it?"
Alter noticed their grips on their weapons tightened; even in the dark, her undead eyesight was able to pick them out perfectly as if it were broad daylight. "So it is~. I confess; I did murder her and in cold blood. And you know what~? I'd do it again! Seeing the life leave her eyes, the smell of fear, and the gurgle of her throat being ripped out…mmm~." She shivered in excitement, almost purring. "It was delicious~. Such a sweet taste; it's truly a pity that I didn't keep her around as a thrall. After all, what else are you weaklings for, if not to be herded like cattle ripe for slaughter?"
"You did more than just murder her, you despicable witch," one snarled. He was taller than her and twice as wide, but size didn't mean a damn thing for her. "You're going to pay for everything you've done!"
Alana Alter's soft chuckles turned into full out laughter and she stopped abruptly with a dramatic sigh before giving them a cruel grin, tongue dragging over her canines. "Good…"
"Kill her!" The five men charged her and the blonde's grin grew wider. These fools would know the true meaning of suffering when she was done. Despite draining Maven and a soldier dry, she could feel the back of her throat burning with an insatiable thirst for mortal blood. Her gauntleted fingers became cloaked in the black and purple wisps of conjuration magic and she let one man's greatsword fly harmlessly over her head.
"Your souls…are mine." A snap of her fingers and bursts of Soul Trap were released, clinging onto her assailants' lifeforces and claiming them as her own. Even in death, they would never know peace or happiness for a much crueler fate awaited them. Their souls would be sent to suffer in agonizing pain in the depths of the Soul Cairn for eternity. A fitting fate for those who had the audacity to try and interrupt her unholy duties.
They stumbled as the spell hit them, watching as their bodies became weak and heavy before their very eyes. "W-what is this!?"
"Soul Trap!" another yelled out in panic. "Kill her, quickly!" She relished in their panic and Alter's right hand transformed from the elbow down. Pale skin turned into the hard stone of a gargoyle and her fingernails were now razor sharp talons capable of ripping through flesh and bone with ease.
The blonde lashed out with a vicious slash, her claws leaving jagged wounds as they tore through the lightweight leather armor of the men who were closest to her. Two bodies fell with matching wails and she moaned in satisfaction, their cries ringing in her ears like a fine symphony of pain. "This feeling…need more~!"
The three who hadn't been torn to shreds watched their companions fall into bloody heaps, unable to keep a firm grasp on their greatswords. The heavy Nordic steel fell from their hands as they realized too late what she was. A daedra in human form, sent from the depths of the Spiral Skein to reap the souls of any she desired in the name of her mistress, the Lady of Whispers.
Alana Alter giggled and placed the Fire Rune underneath their feet, turning away with a sick smile as the rune exploded and burned them alive. Their souls would be sent to Oblivion, never knowing the feasts of Sovngarde.
Eventually the howls of pain turned to little more than pathetic sobs as flames devoured their bodies, eating away at the flesh hungrily. The flames made short work and eventually the charred remains stopped moving, finally succumbing to her vile magic. One she had slashed earlier was still twitching, his hand outstretched to reach desperately for his fallen war axe. The pale blonde crushed it under her daedric boots and yanked his head up by the hair.
"I told you, didn't I?" she whispered scathingly. Her tongue lapped at the smear of blood on his neck and she smiled at his weak whimper. "You are nothing more than prey to me. Fragile…and so easily broken. Helpless little lambs."
Her fangs extended and she brushed a few strands of hair out of her face before pulling her victim's head to the side, the fool still desperately pleading for his life. "P-please…" he begged. "P-please…show mercy…I submit!"
Alter scoffed at the foolish request. "No." With a growl she sank her fangs into his throat and fed, groaning at the rich savory taste of his blood. She punctured an artery, feeling the liquid spurt as she drained him. She fed until there was nothing left for her to drink, eventually tossing the useless husk aside like a broken toy. A good appetizer, but more was needed to keep her thirst at bay.
There wouldn't be much for prey around these parts. Riften was still a relatively dead city compared to the likes of Windhelm or even Dawnstar now. Attacking Windhelm was too reckless; even if she caused enough chaos to please her mistress, her efforts would be in vain as there was still Dawnstar to ship goods and troops. Taking care of business in Dawnstar would bring panic, causing more of the fools to be expecting trouble. Paranoia was a nasty way to lose one's mind.
Alana Alter picked her scythe up and swung it. The blade ripped a hole through Nirn and into a portal of Oblivion, beckoning her with its tantalizing whispers. She stumbled in and upon entry she felt the wonderfully familiar presence of her mistress, silky black hair teasing along the back of her neck. "Did you enjoy it, mistress?"
"Of course, my darling." Mephala purred and stroked Alter's back. "You did well."
Mephala never asked her to do something she didn't want to. She'd give advice of course, but she was more than content to let Alter do as she pleased. Kill, feed, and obtain new power. She needed more to defeat her original, the body she had been cast out of like a disease. 'No matter where you run, Alana…I will find you eventually. When I do, I'll rip your very eyes out before sending your soul to Oblivion.'
And everyone she loved would understand the meaning of pain and suffering. Just as her mistress requested.
Inside the great walls of Windhelm, Alana could feel every single eye glancing in her direction as she made her way across the snowy streets, Astrid in tow behind her. After two years of skulking around unseen, she had grown accustomed to not being watched so much. The blonde Nord shuddered and rubbed her arms, pretending to just be cold from snow. 'I haven't felt this much pressure since I found out I was Dragonborn.'
That felt like almost an eternity ago. She didn't ever expect to kill a dragon, let alone devour its very soul. Once she saw that she in fact did absorb the soul of a dragon, hearing Words of Power speak in her mind, she was just as shocked as the Whiterun soldiers who fought it with her. They were even more in awe when she demonstrated her newfound ability to Shout. After she discovered what it meant, that she was Dragonborn, the pressure was almost too unbearable. At a mere twenty two years of age, a runaway blacksmith and exiled priestess was now the prophesized hero to save all of Nirn from the World Eater.
In the beginning she never really thought much of it. Her feats in battle were writing their own way into her history, but it wasn't until she spoke with Paarthurnax at the Throat of World what it really meant to be Dragonborn. It meant to really have the soul of a dragon, to always have those burning desires to dominate and showcase her power. To bend the will of others around her. During the civil war she made damn sure the Imperial Legion knew what a Dragonborn could do, using her Shouts to rip them asunder or freeze them solid. It was those urges that dragons themselves had to deal with every moment of their lives. Paarthurnax's own struggles with his natural instincts opened her eyes to it.
Even today, Alana could feel her instincts want to take over and unleash every bit of power she had to show she was the most powerful. The blonde suppressed those dragon-like urges, shaking snow off of the top of her head. 'I'm not going to let my urges run loose again. I did it once before and cost me so much.'
The soldiers on patrol were whispering amongst themselves, stealing glances at the blonde Nord as if to make sure they were really seeing her and not an imposter. She could make out a few words, but she had grown used to having heightened senses that came with being a vampire. Without them, she couldn't hear what they were saying.
The Palace of Kings loomed ahead and Alana stopped in front of the giant statue of Talos that had been erected in front of the palace. It was a recent edition, judging by the condition of it, and with one quick look around she saw there was no one hiding their Talos worship anymore. The people of Windhelm bore the amulets of the Ninth Divine with pride, no longer afraid of the Aldmeri Dominion swooping in and kidnapping them. Yet why were they looking at her in fear? It couldn't be because Astrid was with her; Alana had already provided a set of specially crafted leather armor that offered more protection and mobility than the skintight leathers the Dark Brotherhood were so fond of. It also allowed her to be a little more subtle; the Black Hand was known now and unwanted attention was something the two of them preferred avoiding if possible. Alana especially.
She glanced back at her mistress and she shook her head. "I don't like to come to the king's city unless I can't avoid it." She wouldn't have time to establish a true fearful presence yet, with how little she came to Ulfric's capital.
"I trust you can be responsible while I deal with him?" Alana gave her a knowing look.
"What, don't think I can keep my mitts off every cute blonde barmaid I see?"
"Astrid…"
"I get it." The blonde vampire rolled her eyes. "Don't take too long, will you? And…please. Be careful in there."
"I'll try," Alana promised, kissing her hand. "If anyone will understand, it's Ulfric." The High King knew, just as much as Alana, what it meant to have the burden of many on his shoulders. She had been completely terrified when she first walked into the Palace of Kings and heard his thunderous voice as he spoke to Galmar Stone-Fist. A twenty-two year old woman who had wanted to lash out against an Empire that condemned both her and her father to death was suddenly shaking at the power behind Ulfric's voice.
It was almost laughable that she, the one destined to slay Alduin, was reduced to a child in the span of a heartbeat. Yet when his attention was drawn to her, his features softened and when he addressed her, his tone had become almost fatherly. He recognized her from Helgen and upon being asked why he fought, he gave her his answer. He fought for the men and women he held in his hands, dying on foreign soil. For their spouses and children, whose names he heard whispered in their last breaths. For those few who did come back home, only to find it full of strangers wearing familiar faces. For his people too impoverished to pay the debt of a dying empire too weak to rule them, yet brands them criminals for wanting to rule themselves.
He fought so all the fighting he already did wouldn't be for nothing. He had no other choice but to take sword in hand and keep fighting. Hearing his words, the young Dragonborn was inspired to join the Stormcloaks and lead Skyrim to independence. During the war, he helped train her Thu'um and techniques with greatswords, and it didn't take long for her to notice the bond she was building with him. Not romantic, but more akin to a father-daughter relationship, similar to her relationship with Tolfdir.
She never quite forgot how panicked he was when word reached him of the injuries she obtained during the battle for Fort Sungard. He was concerned enough to visit her every chance he got in Windhelm's medical tent, under constant supervision of the best healers in the Stormcloak army. His worry didn't dissipate until he saw her picking up her greatsword with no problem at all.
The blonde looked up at the Palace of Kings once more before taking a deep breath, steeling herself for the meeting with Skyrim's High King. 'I've faced down much more. I can do this.' Breathing through her nose she pushed open the heavy doors of the palace, closing it behind her.
One soldier stood guard at the entrance, and at the other end of the palace's long dining hall was the man himself. Ulfric Stormcloak, clad from the torso down in fine furs. At this distance, Alana wasn't able to make out any physical changes, though she did notice the differences of the hall. New carpets fit for a king now decorated the ancient stone floors and a banner with Talos dangled from the rafters behind the throne.
He hadn't moved from his seat on the throne when she entered, though he didn't need to stand to make a statement; he would wait until they were face to face before greeting her. Ulfric was a man who commanded respect through his charisma alone. Alana had been prepared for every occasion she thought possible, but she wasn't prepared for the silent treatment.
The soldier on guard didn't make a move towards her and the blonde numbly made her way across the hall of the palace, approaching the High King. Her heartbeat sped up with each step and for a moment she was afraid it might burst forth from her chest. As she drew nearer she could see the toll time had taken on him; his fair hair had grown into long flowing locks and he now sported a full beard, making him a spitting image of Ysgramor himself.
When she was only a few paces from him, Alana instinctively went to kneel before her king; however, he stopped her with a single raise of his hand. "Stop." That commanding tone made her freeze in her tracks; just like before when she spoke to her father, she was a child again, afraid of the judgment she would receive.
Ulfric slowly stood up from his throne, his fine furs dragging along the carpets. His steps were soft but full of power and the Last Dragonborn closed her eyes, heart thumping painfully from anxiety. She braced herself for his Thu'um to send her flying, but it never came.
"I'm so glad you're alive." Ulfric's hands wrapped around her and he pulled her into a tight embrace. Alana stiffened from shock, but as she came to her senses she began to hug him back.
"Ulfric…I'm sorry. For everything." She buried her head into his chest, unaware she was even crying until she felt his furs become wet.
"Enough," he murmured softly. He ruffled her hair like a father would and she found comfort in it. "No matter what you think, I know you are a good woman inside. Full of honor and integrity, a true daughter of Skyrim. I'm always honored to have had you stand beside me."
Those words made her heart melt and she clutched onto his broad back. "You have no idea how much it means to me, hearing you say that. I…I never thought I'd ever deserve it. Not after what I had done."
"You did what was necessary for you to survive." His hug became all the tighter and his tone faltered. "Even when the situation looked its bleakest, you still had the strength to take sword in hand and press on. I wish I had half of your willpower. But you didn't just come for forgiveness, did you?"
"No…no I did not." Alana broke away from the High King's embrace and looked down, feeling the pressure building up on her shoulders. "I…I've been called for something. Something only one other has ever been chosen for."
"I've been chosen to be the next to ascend to Aetherius," she confessed, head low. Alana waited for the scoff of denial, but it never came. All that came was a simple touch of her shoulder.
"Alana…if it is truly your fate to be the next mortal to stand alongside Talos himself, then I will defend your divine status just as strongly," Ulfric promised. "You have been a good friend to me, to all of Skyrim. No matter what, I have faith that your choices in life will help you ascend."
"But that's just it!" Alana let the mask of calm certainty fall; she had been putting on the strong front for so damn long that letting her emotions freely run almost felt foreign to her. "How do I know if it's really me making them and not someone else!? What if…what if I'm still being manipulated?" She hadn't given it much thought before, but now that the words left her lips, that question lingered like a dark cloud in her mind. 'Did I really gain freedom, or have I just traded one puppet master for another?'
Ulfric leaned down and kissed her forehead, breathing in sharply. "You aren't. No matter what the gods think, their power was sacrificed to make the world. They cannot manipulate you as strongly as you think. They're not like the daedra, who see us as nothing more than toys to be played with and discarded at their fancy."
Alana looked away, feeling her frustration grow. "I…I haven't felt like myself since Akatosh spoke to me. I don't know how to explain this…but part of me feels like it is missing."
"Are you sure it's not just an adjustment period to your new gifts, whatever he did?" Ulfric asked calmly.
"Positive." The blonde nodded. "Now that it is on my mind, I know it to be true. Part of me is gone." When Akatosh said he was going to remove all impurities corrupting her, did he in fact rip out part of her soul in the process? 'If so, why? And what did he do with it once he tore it out?'
"That is strange." Ulfric frowned. "Perhaps it would be best to ask him yourself; if he has made you his true Chosen One, it would not be in his best interests to let you run around ignorant of the truth."
He backed up from her and once more he seemed even more imposing than he had when she first met the man. "Alana…your life has been one constant with strife. And yet despite the perils you've faced, you have still represented the honor and valor that befits a true daughter of Skyrim. As the High King of Skyrim, your title as Thane of Windhelm is restored and any charges against you in my kingdom are hereby levied. Your previous property in my city will also be returned to its rightful owner."
Alana nearly fell to her knees. Never did she ever expect to be able to walk around her homeland as a free woman, in charge of her own fate. "Ulfric…you don't have to—"
"Alana, please. The least I can do is provide you with a retreat should the burdens of your destiny become too great to bear alone. No one should be without a place they can feel safe in uncertain times."
"In that case…" Alana dropped down to her knees and reached for her broadsword, holding it parallel to her. "I swear myself to you, as I did once before. All that I am, I am for my lord. As Talos is my witness, may this oath carry into the next life. Let those above judge me should I fail to honor this oath."
Ulfric motioned for her to rise, her king accepting her words. "May Talos be with you."
The blonde woman felt a bit of weight leave her shoulders and she looked up at the man who had inspired her and countless others to take up arms against not just an entire empire, but the Aldmeri Dominion too. After their keeps had been destroyed by her hand and Elenwen was gone, the Dominion had been rather scarce in the land.
But that wasn't the only change she noticed. A few nobles were beginning to assemble in the grand hall to discuss business with the High King and she was a little surprised to see a few dark elves spotting the fine silks of Skyrim's nobility.
"You've changed, Ulfric. Last time I remembered being in Windhelm, there wasn't a single dunmer in your court. Why the sudden change?" she asked.
Ulfric sighed and placed his hands behind his back, slowly pacing back and forth. "With the war over, I needed all the allies I could get to make sure that Skyrim's new age could be ushered in. It may have not been the dunmer's war, but they hate the Thalmor as much as we Nords do. We share a common enemy and only a great fool would pass up their skills. It took time; our bitterness with all of elvenkind runs deep. But with the Empire being driven out, I was able to allocate resources to make the Gray Quarter into something a lot more friendly and opening. Several dunmer families and I have been working extensively to make our kingdom strong. Even an elf can be born with the heart of a Nord."
He stood as tall and proud as the day Alana met him and he handed her the key to Hjerim, the manor she once owned in the city. "I'm honored to be the king of a land that welcomes all within our walls, regardless of their birth or social standing. As long as they will fight as fiercely for her when the time comes, Skyrim will be home to them. What matters is their heart. Will you be staying long?"
"I'll be in Windhelm for a few days," Alana promised. "But I have…unfinished business in Solstheim that'll keep me occupied." 'I'm not letting the daedra start affecting Skyrim. It'll be another Oblivion Crisis and just after Skyrim is recovering from both a civil war and the return of Alduin, it isn't wise to fight them here.'
There was only so much damage one could do to a daedric prince in the mortal plane. To really beat them, their true forms had to be slain in their own realm of Oblivion. That meant taking the fight to the Spiral Skein and Quagmire. But she wasn't ready, not yet. Her magicka reserves had only just started to rebuild themselves after suffering from two years lack of use. 'Maybe I ought to pay a visit to the Telvanni wizard to the southeast of Raven Rock. They're regarded as the most powerful dunmer mages; it wouldn't hurt to try and learn from them.'
By Talos, it would be like being a bloody apprentice again at the College of Winterhold.
"Then please, enjoy your few days respite," Ulfric invited warmly. "Everyone needs time now and then to enjoy themselves, whether they be a simple blacksmith earning an honest living to a woman on her path to godhood."
"Yeah…" Alana started to leave, but not before giving the man who truly had remained fiercely by her side, regardless of her past sins, a rare smile. "It was good to talk."
She had a lot to tell her mistress. She just hoped Astrid had found some way of occupying herself that didn't involve enthralling a cute blonde barmaid. Astrid's control over her power wasn't as good as she liked to think; her mistress suffered from the same urges as Alana and Serana once did. The desire to seduce and bend the mind of others. Alana had it worse due to her dragon blood. The desire to dominate and bend wills at her leisure ran strong as it did in all dragons. Even Talos himself once went through the same struggles in his mortal life.
It was why she willingly offered to be Astrid's prey. It was how she truly resisted the temptations her draconic instincts urged her to embrace. In a way, she was at her freest, as strange as it sounded.
The rush it gave her was also borderline unmatched. The only other rush that made her feel more alive was when her sword was swinging and her Voice was tearing through legions like paper.
Outside of the Palace of Kings, the snowstorm had gotten considerably worse. It was now falling thickly and more than a few of Windhelm's residents were grumbling about shoveling it away from their homes. 'Astrid would be crosser than usual if I cleared the skies. She hates sunlight, now that she's changed.' Once again, she was reminded how that was technically her fault. 'I definitely shouldn't have been that careless with my feeding. I was too hungry to think straight.'
Maybe the Telvanni wizard would know of a way to cure vampirism when she got back to Solstheim. Preferably a way that didn't involve her setting foot in the Soul Cairn; being there once was enough for a lifetime. Seeing what happened to the mortal souls used for enchanting was just horrible. Tortured for eternity by the Ideal Masters was possibly one fate worse than being consumed by Alduin.
Candlehearth Hall was only few minutes away from the palace and it felt so refreshing to be able to walk the oldest city in Skyrim without hiding her face. 'For the first time in years, I feel like a free woman.'
A year ago, she wouldn't have thought it would be possible. The amount of blood on Alana's hands was enough to make her seem beyond the point of redemption, but hearing Ulfric's words had inspired her to be better. 'You always knew what to say to snap me out of whatever funk I was in.'
Dusting snow off of her shoulders she trudged up the stairs leading to Candlehearth Hall's side entrance. Upon entering the tavern the blonde let out a content groan as she was greeted with the warmth from its fire. 'So much better.'
Unpredictably, Astrid was waiting for her with a sultry smile on her face, arms crossed over her chest. "Well hello darling. You certainly look a lot less stressed. Get everything off your chest, angst angel?"
"Dammit, was it that noticeable?" Alana winced and gave her mistress a hug. "I really am not good at hiding it am I?"
"Nope. You are many incredible things, but you are also an incredibly bad liar." Astrid ignored the whistles of one of the drunks in the corners and snaked her arms around her waist. "Especially when you try to do it to me."
"You're also a bad one," Alana shot back in a whisper. "A barmaid in Dawnstar is enough to tell me that someone isn't as in control as they like to think?"
"Keep talking and I'll drag you to a private place. I'll show you how in control I am."
"Ooh…I like that tone. And I just so happen to have an entire manor on the other side of the city. No one can disturb us."
"Now you're talking." Astrid's tongue slowly swirled around her lips. "Then why don't we head over?"
"You think you can brave the cold for maybe five minutes?" Alana asked, biting back a weak whimper as she watched her mistress's golden gaze become all the more predatory. Hunger shone brightly and Alana was her prey.
"For you, yes," Astrid purred.
"Then what are you waiting for, my dear?" Alana motioned over her shoulder. "Unless you plan on giving some of the drunks here a show?" As it happened, quite a few of the locals were glancing in their direction, some of them spilling mead in embarrassment at the public flirting display.
"As much as I would love to grab you and kiss you in front of all these people, I'm in no mood to hear it from the innkeeper. You don't need a reminder that you're mine."
"Dunno, the marks are fading. Seems like you need to step up."
Astrid's shove was only half-hearted, but it got the desired results of pushing Alana out of the tavern. In terms of raw physical power, her mistress certainly was stronger than she was a year ago. Back then, she would have struggled to lift Requiem even with Alana helping her. Now, her body was capable of so much more. Faster, stronger, and better.
Back outside, Astrid predictably let out an annoyed hiss and covered her face, drawing Alana's cloak over her body. The thick clouds of the blizzard stopped most of the sunlight from bothering her vampire blood, but Alana knew just how little that meant.
"Don't worry; we'll be indoors soon enough," Alana promised, twirling the key to her manor on her finger. "Then you can do whatever you want to me."
One golden eye bored into her soul and she shivered. That look made her knees go weak and Astrid knew it. Knowing how much Alana would melt under that hungry gaze, she would exploit it whenever she wanted and as her prey, Alana was more than fine with that. She wouldn't have offered to be the vampire's main source of blood if she didn't trust her completely.
The walk to Hjerim wasn't a long one, but by the gods it felt like an eternity. The snowy streets were completely clear now save for the guards on their patrols and the quietness was soothing in its own way. 'Merely a calm before the storm. There's a battle to be fought, but not here on Nirn. This is a fight that'll be in Oblivion.'
She might as well enjoy what little time she had left before she was called to action once more. Three days before she had to return to Solstheim with her sword in hand, learning whatever secrets of the arcane the Telvanni possessed. Seeing as the wizard was regarded as a grand master, he had an incredible understanding of magical theory. There was little reason for her to believe that even Savos Aren, the former Arch Mage of Winterhold before her, could stack up against the might of the Telvanni. Savos may have fought against a dragon priest, but he was only able to seal him away. To the grand master of House Telvanni, that would be barely impressive even for an apprentice. They accepted only the most magically gifted individuals into their House, unlike the College. The College's doors were open to anyone who wanted to study magic; House Telvanni's were only open to a select few.
The blonde barely had time to open the door to the manor before Astrid started getting a little more adventurous in her gropes and teasing. She was able to reenter her manor for the first time in two years, but the second after she set her weapons down she was on the floor. Alana let out a squeak of shock and she noticed that Astrid was holding her hands above her head.
"Couldn't wait any longer, mistress?" Alana asked coyly. "You could at least lock the door and take a girl to the master bedroom."
The vampire hissed in frustration and reluctantly stood up, jabbing one finger into her chest. "Stay."
Alana shivered at her commanding tone and complied, waiting patiently for Astrid to lock the door to bar any intrusion. The vampire tossed her own dagger and sword aside, letting them clatter into a corner and stalked over to Alana with her hips swaying in every step. Without a word, Astrid yanked the blonde up on her feet and dragged her up the stairs to the bedroom.
Once inside, Astrid snapped her fingers and pointed at her chest. "Strip."
Alana obeyed, though purposely going slow to tease. Her shirt was first to come off, then her boots and thick socks. "Never specified how fast I had to move~."
"An unfortunate loophole that will rectify itself." Astrid reached over and Alana guided her hand towards her throat, silently giving her mistress permission. The vampire applied just enough pressure to make it difficult to talk, but not hard enough to worry about causing serious harm.
"Are you going to listen now?" Astrid asked, licking her lips as Alana struggled to get words out.
"H-harder…" she managed to gasp out with her cheeks burning red. It was no secret that she was a bit of a masochist; her first time with Serana sprung to mind. She never expected the quiet woman could be so damn rough.
"What was that? I couldn't hear you, whore." Astrid hissed and nipped at her collarbone harshly, drawing blood.
"C-choke me harder, mistress…"
"Good girl."
Astrid's grip tightened for a moment and she kissed Alana sloppily. The blonde Dragonborn could only whimper in pained pleasure. Her knees grew weak and Astrid's grip faltered, allowing her temporary respite. Those precious few seconds meant she could finish stripping down.
Piles of cloth lay at her feet and she was completely bare. Every imperfection was on display, dull red scar tissue standing out against pale flesh. The blonde woman resisted the almost instinctual urge to shy away from Astrid's roaming eyes and stood her ground, remaining firmly where she stood. The vampire licked her lips and eyed every scar, taking in the sight.
"No matter how scarred you get, you'll always be beautiful to me," Astrid whispered, their lips meeting gently. "Now get on the bed. On your back."
Alana tried to present herself to her mistress, her mind being overtaken by a burning need for Astrid's touch. The blonde motioned her head over to the bedside table, where a pair of leather straps sat awaiting their use. "You know you want to~."
Astrid's hungry gaze followed and she grinned, baring her fangs. "I like the way you think, my dear." She walked over and picked them up, twisting a knot into each strap, Alana drooling with want.
She offered up her hands and Astrid tied her hands to the posts on either side of her head. It was tight, but not to the point of it being painful. Just tight enough to prevent her from wiggling out on her own. Not that she'd want to. The rush that rippled through her body just begged for more and she moved her hips up against her mistress, whining impatiently.
"So impatient." Astrid's hand was at her throat again and Alana sputtered into their kiss. Waves of heat flooded her core and she mewled. The feeling of being in such a vulnerable position made her heart race and when Astrid released her, air rushed back into her deprived lungs. The blonde gasped for breath, feeling lightheaded from her mistress's grip on her throat only moments before.
Alana let her head go limp and exposed the soft flesh of her neck, silently offering her blood. Astrid took the invitation and leaned in, her tongue dragging in wet and messy circles. The blonde's breath hitched and she shivered as Astrid gave a few teasing nibbles. Oh how that drove her mad with desire.
Astrid smirked and whispered huskily into her ear. "Tell me how bad you want it."
"I need it…please mistress?" Alana asked weakly. "I need it badly…"
"Begging for sex like a whore. I never thought you'd stoop so low," Astrid taunted, planting her lips firmly on her neck and sinking her teeth in. Alana moaned in a combination of pain and pleasure, shivering in excitement as her mistress fed. The toxin coursed through her body, but only temporarily; even the fledging of a Daughter of Coldharbour's venom wasn't strong enough to overpower the gift that Akatosh bestowed upon her. It dissipated almost as soon as it entered her, allowing Astrid to feed without having to ever worry about turning her.
"O-only for you, mistress," Alana croaked out. "Only you…"
Astrid's golden eyes slowly lost their hunger and she pulled away, a few stray drops of blood on her lip. Her tongue swirled out to lap it up and she kissed the bite mark, suckling to not waste a single drop. Alana's body felt heavy after the loss of blood, the effect wearing off as Astrid also undressed. The vampire crawled on top of her and their lips met in a frenzy. A vampire's magical power dropped when they fed, but the rush after a feed would fuel them physically. Astrid's tongue had no problem forcing itself into Alana's mouth, coiling around hers and controlling their kiss.
Alana could only whimper as her own weak licks were thoroughly dominated by the powerful thrusting of Astrid's tongue. She was lost to arousal; her eyes had glazed over with lust and she craved more.
The urge to touch herself only built and she looked up at her mistress longingly, noticing she was also entering the same state. Astrid's breasts rubbed against hers and Alana moaned, trembling underneath her.
"You want to let it out, don't you?" Astrid teased, running her lips up and down each side of Alana's neck. "Tut tut. You should know by now. You don't get to until you see to my needs."
Alana let out a whine but stopped when Astrid repositioned herself, her own glistening folds in front of her face.
"Use your tongue," the vampire ordered. Alana's cheeks were red and she leaned in with her tongue out, licking at her mistress. Astrid let out a soft moan and wove her hands into Alana's hair, forcing her head in. "Right there…"
Alana's tongue swirled languidly around her mistress's aching clit and she got a moan in response. Her teeth lightly scraped against her button and Astrid pressed down against her face, Alana's tongue being sucked inside. The taste of her mistress set a tingling sensation down her spine and she wriggled her tongue inside her, looking up at her with her best innocent look. She pushed the fleshy muscle as far as it could reach, hitting the deepest part of her mistress.
Astrid moaned in pleasure, rocking back and forth as Alana's tongue lapped away at her wetness. "By Sithis you're good at this…"
"Anything to please my mistress," Alana slurred, pupils expanding with lust. A steady trickle of juices ran down the vampire's thigh and she leaned to lap it up, savoring the taste and turning her attention back to the aching slit in front of her. Her tongue slipped easily back inside and Alana was rewarded for her effort; pure bliss crossed over Astrid's face and she rode it out, Alana refusing to move her mouth away until her mistress recovered. Thighs clenched down around her head and she purred, her own arousal too much to bear for much longer.
Astrid slid down from straddling the Dragonborn's face to lie on top of her, their breasts mashing together as they shared a few sloppy kisses.
"Did I please you, mistress~?" Alana asked softly, trembling as Astrid's hands scratched at the bottom of her back.
"You did a very good job, my naughty little girl." Astrid kissed on her collarbone and bit down, sucking to leave new territorial marks. "Now it is time I return the favor."
Alana could only whimper at that hungry golden glow. Without even needing to be told, her legs immediately spread themselves for the blonde vampire and her heart raced at being in such a vulnerable position. She was prepared for her touch, or so she thought. The moment Astrid's fingers brushed against her wetness she almost lost control and let everything loose.
Astrid grinned and cupped her cheek, dragging a hand through her hair. "Pleasing me got you aroused to the point of nearly experiencing orgasm by a mere touch."
Alana nodded, biting her lip with a weak moan as the tips of Astrid's fingers teased her. Her arms felt heavy and she forced her draconic instincts down as they reared up, roaring for her to snap the straps binding her to the bed and claim her mistress. There was little doubt in her mind that she could easily get out if she wanted to, but why would she? She enjoyed every moment where she wasn't a dominant force of nature and this was how she was truly free from the demands her dragon blood made of her.
Alana's body embraced the feeling of being helpless fully as she squashed her urges and she gave her mistress a coy smile. "How could I not~? I love it when you're rough with me."
"Dirty little whore." Astrid's spare hand lightly tapped her cheek.
"I'm your whore," Alana corrected, shivering at the slight stinging on her face. "...harder…"
Astrid hit her harder and the one they called a daedra's worst nightmare let out a weak moan of pained pleasure. Talos forbid anyone who revered her ever seeing her like this, all tied up and begging for punishment like a sex starved harlot.
Astrid grinned at the sight of the blonde writhing underneath her, mewling desperately for more. "Your patience will be rewarded, my dear."
Without further warning, two slender digits pushed inside of Alana and a shrill cry of pleasure left her throat. Her back arched off the bed and trembles ran through her body. Oh Gods, how she missed this so damn much. Astrid was by far rougher with her than Serana ever was, disregarding any idea of this finishing gently.
Her fingers thrust into her and Alana could do little more than moan and whimper, trying to keep herself from releasing too soon. Her mistress wouldn't be happy if she let it go that early, especially since she hadn't given her any permission to climax just yet. Only when Astrid told her to do so would she let everything loose. Until then, she would attempt to endure it as best she could. Her endurance in battle was remarkable, but using energy on a battlefield was a lot different than a round or two of rough sex. Shutting herself away from everyone and not having any contact with her mistress for a year had left her out of practice in that regard.
Astrid's thumb pressed on her button as she fingered her, humming in sync with Alana's weak moans. "I can feel you getting even wetter, if that's possible." Alana could barely hear her; all she could comprehend was the pleasure building up in her core, yearning for release.
She nearly lost it when she felt her mistress's fingers curl inside her; her eyes widened and indistinguishable sounds left her throat, thighs beginning to tremble. Her tongue lolled limply out of the corner of her mouth, panting as she felt herself tighten with uncontainable heat. She was overtaken by her desire and the blonde hunter could just make out Astrid's voice. Her mistress had given her permission to let it all out for her.
With her mouth agape, her entire body shook as she reached her peak. Alana wasn't even aware that she had snapped the straps binding her, her back arching as she came. Her legs instantly wrapped around Astrid to keep her in place and she drew in a few ragged breaths as she recovered.
Astrid pushed her messy fingers into Alana's mouth and she licked them clean, blushing at the lewdness of such an act. Astrid's tongue replaced her fingers and Alana moaned into their kiss. "Thank you, mistress~…"
"We might want to consider another way of keeping ourselves busy besides this," Astrid murmured, lying down next to her. "There isn't enough time to waste every moment sleeping with you, even though I'd be content to do so."
"I know…" Alana buried her head into Astrid's chest, cuddling up to her. "But we can savor what time we do have." She would tell Astrid what she confided in Ulfric, how she suspected that her newfound power might have had a terrible price attached to it. But not now. Not while she was set snugly in Astrid's embrace. Another conversation for another time.
With a war in Oblivion gathering in the near future, it was best to be able to savor what little time she could spend like this. She knew it was coming; hell, Astrid and Saoron knew it too.
Her trial on the way to Aetherius would take her to Oblivion and back.
A/N: And here is a good point to end it, I think. Seriously, how the fuck is this shit this long?
Also, I repeat my above statement: be careful if you decide to partake in a little erotic asphyxiation. I've done it before and can confirm it is not without its risks. Long story.
-Kagerou#0007