Hadvar could still feel the feather light touch of her thumb as it trailed delicately along the sensitive skin under his eye. Such a tentative, innocent touch should not have sent darts of sensation directly from her finger tip to his cock. Yet it had taken all his will power not to grown and press his cheek to her palm. He'd always been tactile, he reasoned, and touch starved as he was during this posting, clearly anything could set him off, surely he couldn't be blamed for that.

But even clearer, was the sensation of emptiness as she had been led away from him by Captain Rikke. Even had he not already sworn to protect her, the look she had sent him as she'd been near enough dragged away by the Captain would have sent him after her, sword drawn, had he not forced himself to stay glued rigidly to his spot in front of the General. What was he thinking? He asked himself the same question as he had just seconds ago, and mere seconds before that. Why was he willing to throw away his career as a military man and possibly his life for a slip of a girl he only just knew? Why did he let them take her away? No. That one had slipped in there, unbidden. Shaking his head, and digging deeper in to his denial, he reminded himself that it was only his promise to Wren that had his whole body itching to follow after her and the Captain and ensure they kept to their promise to do her no harm. He was on duty and could not leave his post, particularly as Captain Rikke was now engaged in escorting his, no, the girl, to a secure location inside the keep for 'it-gods-damn-better-be-gentle' questioning. His teeth seemed to grind together of their own accord as he thought of what would occur should he find she'd been harmed. He threw that thought away as quickly as it had come. After the execution he would find her and ensure her continued good health. Until then, he had a job to do. He quickly marched to the executioners block as the priestess moved towards the stairs of the watch tower to perform the last rights.

So intent was he on getting through this execution without abandoning his post that he barely heard the first roar, even as the ground shook in response.

…...

Rikke had enlisted the aid of a guardsman in carrying the unconscious Breton towards the torture chamber. The girl was now slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, her inky black hair swinging with every step the man took. Hadvar wouldn't be best impressed by her blatant breach of the General's promise that she would be returned to him unharmed, evidenced by two rather sore looking scratches now decorating her face, but she rationalised that she had never made any such promise. Besides, who knew the prongs of a key could do so much damage whilst trying to subdue a recalcitrant prisoner. And should Hadvar decide to press the point, she would simply point out that if he was prepared to argue with his commanding officer than perhaps he wasn't as deserving of a reward as she had thought and perhaps the prisoner of war should be assigned to another, more deserving soldier.

That would slow him down.

She'd seen the look in his eyes when the little bitch had curled further in to his arms as she and the General came towards them.

Perhaps Hadvar had been a bad choice of men to give a young girl to, she mused as she walked ahead of the guardsman and his burden. He seemed far to honourable. Why even now, the idiot who carried the girl was taking every opportunity to manhandle her when he thought his commanding officer wasn't looking. After all, even through her hate Rikke could admit to herself that the Breton girl was vaguely pretty underneath all that dirt. She'd even touched him, the little slut. What was wrong with the man? He should have asked to be dismissed and returned to his quarters to 'enjoy' his reward. Though perhaps she hadn't made that any easier by alerting the General to her possible spy status. Rikke nearly kicked herself, sometimes she just didn't think these things through. Oh well, she thought with a smile as they neared the underground room within the dungeons, handing her over to be tortured would be just as fun.

Rikke handed over the girl with instructions that they were to get information regarding the Stormcloaks out of her no matter the cost, once again forgetting to relay the fact that no actual torture should be employed in the quest for this information. She had requested to know all the results directly and the head torturer had been happy explain to her an experimental method he had been looking to try on someone now that it had been perfected. Rikke couldn't help the shiver that ran down her spine at the thought. Divines, she was glad that man was on their side. His newest method was particularly cruel.

She'd noticed that the Breton had just been coming round when she and the guardsman had been about to leave, the guard having slung her none to gently on to the table the torturer's apprentice had showed them too whilst the head torturer himself had outlined the effects of the potion he had created. A lust potion with an awfully cruel twist.

Just as she was making her way back to the execution ground to check on their progress, Divine's knew it would be her head on the block if they cocked up taking off Ulfic Stormcloak's head, the entire world shook and she was flung towards the wall by the guard as a giant chunk of the ceiling came crashing towards them.

She allowed the guardsman to help her back up as the tremors stopped momentarily, thanking him for his quick action, and then legged it back along the corridor to the courtyard to see what had happened as the echo of a magnificent roar shuddered through the Keep.

…...

Wren groaned at the pounding of her head when she came round again. This was the second time in as many hours that she had awoken from unconsciousness and it was taking its toll. She tried to take in her surroundings but everything was blurry and shaking. She blinked a couple of times and slowly the shapes around her became more solid and real, though things were still a little out of focus around the edges. She was underground, she thought when she looked around, there were no windows and torches were lit in sconces around the small, dark room. She reached up to touch the wound on the side of her head and found that her wrists were no longer bound, but her ankle was chained to the leg of the table she was laying on. Table? She sat up quickly, ignoring the way it made her head spin and little black dots swim before her eyes. That was when she saw the three cages in a row along the wall of the room and noticed the dry brown stains running in spatter patterns all over the table she had just been laying on. Panicking and scared she tried to get up, only to trip on the heavy manacle attached to the leg of the table.

That was what caused the two men inside what looked like a large prison cell to look up. The elder one smiled when he saw she was awake, a wicked smile, promising all the evil implied by the room they were in. The other looked slightly pained but not enough to help her that was for sure. The older one turned to a table behind him and picked up a vial. He spoke sharply to his associate who nodded grimly and came out of the room, striding towards her. Wren backed up towards the table but was weighed down by the thing hanging off her ankle. She didn't have the strength in herself to manoeuvre as though it wasn't there, though she put up a good fight if she did say so herself. When he first lunged towards her, she ducked under his arm, spinning away so that he couldn't grab her, some of her natural speed showing through despite being so encumbered. Wren knew that if you weren't going to be strong, and her slim frame was never going to support much muscle, you had to be fast, or you were dead.

Unfortunately, she wasn't quite fast enough. He caught her against the pillar, the chain connecting her to the table hadn't been long and jangled now as she was lifted off the floor by the man's fore-arm against her chest, cutting off her air-supply. Her hands scrabbled at the meaty appendage, anything for the next breath of air. The other one had come out of the massive cell now and was making his way towards her holding the vial carefully. Wren was even more intent on getting free when she saw how it glowed. She thrashed around desperately, almost getting free, till the man holding her to the wall slapped her hard, stunning her, and shoving her back against the stone pillar, dazed once more.

The older man seemed to assess the situation for a moment.

"This would be easier if she was on the table." He said to the man holding her. "That way we can just tip it down her throat when she refuses."

Taking advantage of her still stunned state, the behemoth holding her up quickly shuffled her over to the table.

"How hard did you hit her?" Said the older one with a chuckle when she still hadn't begun struggling again, despite being laid out on the stained surface once more, one of the giant's hands splayed across the top of her chest, near her neck, holding her down with little effort.

"Hard enough." He grunted back, lifting his other arm to show his master the scratches she had left with her nails whilst trying to escape.

She turned her face away from them, the only form of rebellion she could manage in this dazed state, but the giant used his other hand to turn her back towards them, his large fingers bruising the skin along her jaw.

"Open your mouth." He growled at her, shaking her slightly when she silently refused, but the other one was apparently done playing around. He wanted to see the results of his potion and it would take a little while to kick in, so the longer she was stubborn, the longer it would be before he could view the results.

Despite the fact that she had her lips sealed tightly, he lifted her head and fit the mouth of the bottle to hers, laying her back down once he was sure it wouldn't leak. When she still didn't open her mouth he growled and pinched her nose closed.

Eyes widening, Wren struggled to hold her breath, kicking and bucking against the forces that held her down to no avail. No. No! Even knowing that she shouldn't, she opened her mouth, desperate for air. The glowing yellow liquid gushed down her throat as she drew a deep breath, sputtering and choking against the potion. Even as she choked, she could feel the potion begin to effect her body. A warmth was growing deep within her skin, desperate to get out. Suddenly it was unbearable, every millimetre of her skin felt as though it was being seared from her muscle, every muscle contracted sharply and every bone felt as though a thousand hot needles were sawing through them. She screamed as she arched from the table, the vial smashing on the cobbles of the floor, finally able to throw off the hold of the men. Writhing in agony, it felt as though, for just a moment, the entire world was writhing with her. The table she was on shook, but she barely noticed as she arched further, before curling in on her self.

"Quick, grab her. Don't let her fall off the table, she'll only do herself more damage and I want to see the effects without added trauma, this time." Wren could feel bands of steel wrapped in skin grabbing her wrists and ankles and pulling outwards, centring her on the rough surface. Every agony of seconds ago was dwarfed as this new agony wracked through her body.

"I thought you said it would take a little while to kick in?" A voice, she had no idea who's, shouted over her screams. "Did the room shake when she screamed or do you think that was a coincidence?"

"It does," shouted the other voice, still unintelligible through her agony and over her screams as her body burned from the inside out, "this is just the first part, it's getting in to every part of her, body and soul. That's why it's so effective, it lasts for days without need for a second dose, but I think it's reacting to her magicka as well. It feeds off the magicka energy."

She shrieked again as a fresh wave of pain rolled over her. The room rocked once more. Both men let go as they noticed that it wasn't something she could have caused.

…...

A Dragon. A freaking Dragon. As if this day wasn't bad enough, he thought as he called the boy towards him. First the planned execution of a childhood friend, then these strange undeniable feelings, and worse lust, for an almost obscenely young girl, now this. How old do you think she actually is, he asked himself, before pulling himself together. Not the time. The young boy was running towards him and he pulled the kid to him just as a plume of flame lit up the ground he'd been standing on moments before. Shielding the kid from the flames, he took a moment to look around at the destruction raining down on what was once Helgen. The keep was still standing, though only just and he knew he needed to get there as soon as possible, before the whole thing collapsed. He needed to find his way to Wren. He'd promised her that he'd get her out of here and back to her family. Making sure the boy was looked after he headed through the debris towards the keep. Dodging attacks from the Dragon, which he still couldn't believe was what was occurring, he made his way quickly past soldiers desperately trying to stay alive.

Once inside the keep, the cool dark of the stone walls, and the reduction in noise made him feel safer, though he knew that, this close to the Dragon, stone bound safety was an illusion. He was in one of the barracks and grabbing a fresh sword and shield, he downed a health potion from his collection and raced down the corridor towards the dungeons, praying that was where he'd find Wren, locked safely in a little cell of her own. The idea of her forced to share a cell with some rough criminal had anger buzzing at the back of his skull and he gritted his teeth against it. He unlocked the iron gate in to the next room, not really paying attention, just knowing he had to get to the dungeons. And almost lost his head as an axe swung towards him. He parried clumsily with his shield, taken off guard, but quickly caught himself and drew his sword in time to meet the next blow.

Which as when he saw who he was fighting. Ralof. His childhood friend, the one who's execution today he'd been a big part of. He grimaced. This probably wouldn't work then.

"Hold Ralof," he said quickly. "We're more likely to get out of here if we work together. What do you say?"

Ralof glared at him suspiciously, but he didn't raise his axe again, as though reserving judgement. Hadvar lowered his sword, keeping his shield raised, just in case. The circled each other carefully, both trying to see if the other would attack.

"Look, Ralof. I don't have time to hang about, I made a promise to Wren that I'd get her out of here and back to her family and this place isn't going to be standing much longer if that Thing out there has anything to say about it." He bowed his head. "I'm sorry friend, I had no idea your name was on the list today."

At that, Ralof seemed somewhat taken aback. His axe went right down, and his stance relaxed.

"No." He said. "In all fairness, I accepted the chance of my death at the hand's of the Imperial's when I aligned myself with the Ulfric. Though I admit it was a shock to see you there, list in hand. When did you join the Imperials old friend?" Ralof seemed prepared to talk, if still slightly suspicious, which Hadvar was glad for, there was no getting around it, he'd almost had a friend executed today and only the arrival of a giant winged beast had halted the actual axe fall. It was a terrible position to be in on both sides. But he didn't have time to explain himself fully. He dragged the key to the gate out his belt once more and headed towards the corridor that led underground.

"We'll have to talk about it on the way I'm afraid Ralof. What say we call a truce for now. At least until we get out of here?" Ralof nodded as Hadvar unlocked the gate and swung it open.

They made their way down the curved staircase and were about to continue down the corridor when the world shook once more and the ceiling caved in ahead of them. Coughing from the dust, Hadvar could only wait till the dust cleared so he could see whether they could continue.

"I'll give the Dragon this, he's certainly determined." Ralof quipped. Hadvar gave him a dry stare and chuckled slightly at the thought.

"What do you think he's here for? He's not under Ulfric's command is he?" Ralof threw a sarcastic look his way. "Well, it did stop his execution."

"Stopped mine too." said Ralof dryly, "Am I the one who's controlling Dragons now?"

Hadvar snorted at that thought. He grinned at Ralof.

"Well. You were always inordinately interested in Bleak Falls Barrow." He said, pointing his companion over to a door in the wall next to them. Inside was the store-room which had two doors and might allow them to by pass the fallen stone. After all, there was no way to get through that lot without a team of men with pickaxes.

"Yes, and you shared my 'interest'."Ralof replied wryly. "We scared each other silly with stories of Draugr climbing out of the tombs and crawling down the mountains in search of fresh meat."

Those were good days, thought Hadvar, before all this mess.

They quickly made it through the store room, Hadvar pocketing a couple of health potions he'd found, just incase. The door on the other side of the room was miraculously clear of debris, the very first thing that had gone right for him all day. Together, they carried on down the corridor and down the next set of stairs. Ralof was slightly in front and Hadvar heard him call out in surprise that they had entered a torture chamber. He felt sick with shame that it could have been his friend down here, suffering the not-so-tender mercies of the head torturer. He hurried on as he heard the clash of steel, rounding the corner at a dead run.

There was a young Stormcloak woman attacking the head torturer, and Ralof was holding off the man's assistant. Hadvar came to a dead stop as he saw Wren in one of the little cages that lined the wall, her hands chained above her head. She seemed unconscious, but her breathing was laboured and her face and neck sported an assortment of bruises that were just beginning to bloom, along with two violent looking scratches marring the skin of her left cheek.

Furious and not thinking, he drew his sword. Heading straight for the head torturer, he pulled the man away from the Stormcloak girl he was trying to electrocute and backed him forcibly against the wall. She nodded at him and went to help Ralof.

"Don't kill him Ralof. We might need information from him if this one won't answer." He snarled, unable to control his rage that a young innocent girl had been placed in the care of these men. He held his sword to the man's throat, holding him up with his other hand fisted in his tunic.

"What did you do to her?"

"Just what the Captain ordered." The slimy little man squeaked.

"And what was that exactly?"

"Not telling"

"Where's the key to the cell?"

"Lost it"

The odious man was grinning now and the last little chain holding Hadvar's temper back finally snapped. Without remorse, he drove his sword though the man, killing him instantly, which if Hadvar was honest with himself, was more than he felt he deserved.

That done he turned to the man's assistant, who had been corralled in to a corner and subdued by Ralof and his ally. As he stormed over, the giant of a man held up his hands, an image of supplication. He must have seen the murderous feelings in his eyes.

"If you kill me you'll never find out what he gave her, and trust me, you need to know." Were the man's first words. Ralof growled at him.

"And what do you want in return for the information?"

"Just safe passage out of here with you. All I want is to get out of here alive. I swear I'll tell you everything I know about the potion he gave her."

"Fine." Hadvar growled. "But first. Where's the damn key to the cell?"

…...

The key really had been lost, though Hadvar had no idea how, but Ralof was searching the room while he questioned the assistant. Unfortunately, though his explanation shed light on what had happened to Wren, it didn't do anything for the sense of guilt growing within him. Hadvar could only blame himself for what had happened to her and every minute she remained in chains pained him to the depths of his soul.

"He'd been perfecting this potion for months. The general knew about it but only theoretically. It's a lust potion, but with a really cruel twist. Normally, a potion like that would fade within a couple of hours, or after, uh...lets say release. Not this one. It eases with release but builds up again very quickly, and it lasts for days. If it goes un-sated, the pressure and the heat and the craving, they all begin to build up. They don't level out, like they might normally, to an acceptable, if irritating level. Instead the feelings grow and grow, uncontrollable lust, for days. The head torturer, he said that in the end, if they went without...release...they would be driven mad by the cravings."

The man at least had the good grace to cringe as he imparted this last bit of information but Hadvar was still so incensed that he had to get up and walk away else he'd have done the same to him as he'd done to his master. The Stormcloak girl stayed to guard him and Hadvar could hear her asking more questions.

"How long does the potion last?"

"A couple of days at least. He said it permeated to the bones which is why it lasts so long."

He moved in to the large room that had been built within the chambers for the storing of weapons and implements. It had a cage like feel as the guards had felt it needed to be lockable incase of an escape. He moved to the shelves and stared searching for the key or another way of opening the locks that held Wren bound.

"Has it started affecting her already or does it have a build up period like other potions?"

"It should take just over half a day to take full effect, but she'll be feeling the start of it now."

Just then Ralof called out. He'd found a lock pick in the backpack and had started trying to break in to the cages. Hadvar sighed, it was unlikely that the Imperial Army would have such shoddy locks that an amateur could pick them. Just as he finished that thought, Ralof swung the door of the cage open, crowing something about second rate security.

Hadvar may have been shocked, but that didn't stop him from racing across the room and kneeling beside Wren as Ralof worked on the shackles that held her to the wall.

"Who is she?"asked Ralof as he worked, cursing as he snapped one of the picks.

He was surprised that Ralof didn't know, though it confirmed his suspicions that she wasn't a Stormcloak, he couldn't help thinking that someone had to have been at least acquainted with her.

"You really don't know her?"

Ralof gave him a strange look over the shackle he was currently working on.

"No." He said slowly. "Ulfric and I were caught just before we left Skyrim. A couple of hours later we were stopped again and a couple of guards came up to our cart dragging her between them. She was unconscious all of the first day, though they tied her hands and sat her on the bench when we stopped to water the horses. She only woke up as we came in to Helgen. I tried to get a name out of her but she looked terrified. 'Spose it didn't help that there was rather a lot of shouting on the horse-thief's part." He'd muttered the last bit but Hadvar caught it.

It really just confirmed everything he'd surmised about Wren, that she was an innocent placed in a terrible position by chance and bad luck. It made what had happened to her that much worse. A soldier signed up for this life, he accepted the risk of death in his career. Wren had been accused and sentenced without trial, a massive breach of the morals of the Imperial Army and of the trust the people put in the Army to hold the peace without abusing their position of power. Today was the first time Hadvar had ever been given cause to feel truly ashamed of the conduct of the Imperial forces.

There was a clink within the last shackle as Ralof got it free and Hadvar instantly shuffled round so that Wren was leaning with her back to his chest. He fished a healing potion out of his pocket and uncorked it with his teeth. Using his other hand, he gently tilted her head back so that she wouldn't choke on the potion as it went down. As he placed the rim of the bottle to her lips, Wren whimpered and tried to turn her head away. The sound cut through him like a knife, but he knew he had to get a some of it down her or she'd never even make it out of Helgen, let alone all the way to Riverwood.

"It's a potion of healing Wren." He whispered to her soothingly, hoping she could hear him and wasn't just acting on instinct. She seemed to settle against him slightly, as though calmed by his voice. He couldn't help the soft feeling in his chest at the proof that she associated him with safety, and he smiled as she opened her mouth in a sigh. Gently tipping the potion up he let the smallest of amounts out at a time so that she wouldn't panic or choke.

The effects were near enough instant and Hadvar sighed with relief as the deep cuts on the side of her face started to knit back together and her breathing became less laboured. It wasn't till he'd carefully given a second potion to her that he even remembered that they were in a room with an audience. He looked up and couldn't stop the slight colouring of his cheeks as he saw Ralof staring down at them, a mocking grin spread across his face. He had risen to stand in he doorway of the cage, blocking them from the view of the other two in the room which Hadvar was grateful for, though he knew Ralof himself would never let him live down this new tenderness he seemed to be displaying.

"She's a tiny little thing isn't she? Are all Breton's that small?"

Just then Wren groaned and her eyelids fluttered as though she was going to open her eyes. Hadvar's gaze shot to her but instead of waking she shifted slightly, turning in his arms. She tucked her head in to the curve of his neck and breathed deeply. Nothing could stop his blush then. Wren was undulating slightly and a massive rush of lust spread through him as he realised what she was trying , entirely innocently on her part, to do. He looked up as he heard Ralof draw in a breath loudly, only to see his blush mirrored on the Nord opposite him.

Feeling suddenly and irrationally possessive about the small woman in his arms he shot a savage glare at Ralof as he shifted Wren in his arms so that her front was tucked against his chest. The glare only made Ralof chuckle slightly and so the only effect the move had was to give Wren more of a surface to rub against. Hadvar was almost glad she was still unconscious, he had a feeling she would be mortified by her current behaviour. His feeling was further justified when he felt the tiniest of licks to the skin of his collarbone. He groaned, unable to keep the sound in, his arms tightening slightly around the slim frame of the woman who was currently knelt straddling one of his legs, another by-product of him shifting her from Ralof's view.

"Come on. We still need to get out of here without being eaten by that Dragon, and if what he's said about the potion is correct, you two are going to need a room somewhere pretty soon."