Um…yeah. Here is an update. Sorry for the wait. There are sooooo many excuses, but they're just that, excuses. Not really good enough. Anyway. I promise to try and do better in the future, but we've all seen how that promise worked out in previous chapters. I think, though I'm sorry, that we're all going to have to resign ourselves to sporadic updates.
Warning: Smut in this Chapter. Please do not read if this will offend you. (Both of these people are consenting adults, though it may not seem obvious that they are at the moment.)
It was strange how distracting her hand in his was but he could feel each slim, cool finger against his larger, more callused palm. They were moving towards the room with the river running through the middle and it was breaking his mental shields apart to feel her hand in his and her tiny slim body pressed against his back as they walked. He'd told her to stay close and certainly hadn't objected when she'd taken him literally. This stimulus and the memory of what they had done whilst Ralof and the other girl Asta had been occupied fighting had Hadvar's conscience in knots. In all honesty, he was struggling not to turn around, pin her to a wall and have his way with her. Only his strict control on himself and his impulses held him back. He knew her reprieve from the effects of the potion wouldn't last long but he was adamant that it didn't count as consent if she was drugged with the twisted concoction of a sick mind. He'd had to keep telling himself that he only slipped before because of how uncomfortable she'd looked and her clear inability to walk with the potion affecting her so strongly. Entirely without his permission his mind drifted back to the short interlude he'd just shared with Wren.
The room had been cleared easily enough even though they had lost the torturer's assistant, and the element of surprise, to the first man they had come across. Apparently the idiot hadn't expected a fellow Empire soldier to turn on him when he entered the room, screaming, sword raised above his head.
It was stranger to think how drastically his outlook and attitude had changed since that morning. Before meeting Wren he would have been saddened by the loss of a fellow Empire soldier, a brother in arms as such, now all he could see, as the man was cut down, was the dark smudges of finger shaped bruises on Wren's neck and upper chest as she lay, suspended by her arms, delicate wrists bruised and rubbed raw by the chains, in that disgusting cage.
On another note, hadn't the man had any training. Honestly. Who runs in to an unknown situation, with unknown assailants, sword raised, leaving their neck, belly, arms and other...delicate parts exposed, and then proceeds to alert the enemy of their presence and attack? It certainly wasn't anything he would have trained in to his men. He'd just dispatched a man who had run at Ralof's back when he was hit in the side with an arrow. They were flying around the room but even though the hit to his side hurt like the devil, he knew it was unlikely it had even pierced his armour. The person behind the bow clearly wasn't a very good shot as several arrows were striking off the cobblestones around him and flying well past him towards the walls.
The room was cleared quickly with both Hadvar and Ralof watching each other's backs. Looking around, Hadvar could see that the room had been pretty evenly split between Empire and Stormcloaks. It was strange to think that before today, neither he nor Ralof would have even considered striking against their fellow soldiers and chosen side in this civil war, but Hadvar was feeling pretty disillusioned and he was fairly sure that Ralof just wanted to make it out of Helgen alive. They had worked hard to ensure as few deaths as possible and the majority of the men littering the floor were merely incapacitated or unconscious. It was unfortunate that some had died from their injuries but there were always casualties in any fight.
Sharing a grim look, he and Ralof headed back towards the corridor where they had left Wren guarded by Asta. Hopefully the effects of the potion hadn't advanced to far. They needed to get out of these tunnels and heading towards Riverwood before any of them could relax, and even that was dependent on whether or not the dragon was still making it his mission to raze Helgen to the ground.
The scene that greeted him made his heart clench dangerously. The fear that ran through him at seeing Wren on the floor trying to retreat from a screaming soldier with his sword drawn and his trews undone was both sudden and ice cold. Never, in his entire career as a soldier, had fear like this frozen him to the spot. Ralof was already moving forward before he could command his feet to move or hand to draw his sword.
He didn't know how the man had gotten past Asta, but she was already moving to intercept the downward swing of the soldier's sword with her own. Ralof was behind the man in an instant and Hadvar headed straight for Wren.
Scooping her from the floor, he could see that she was injured.
He moved them over to the other end of the corridor, away from her attacker, desperately trying not to spook her. The cold fear that had washed over him when he'd entered the room was slowly fading, warmed by the fact that she had wrapped her arms around his neck as he lifted her without hesitation. His heart soared to think that she trusted him.
As he set her down, he fished in his pack for another healing potion. He looked to her for permission before reaching to examine her wound as she nodded her consent. Delicately, he pulled the rough material away from the skin of her waist, wincing as he heard her hiss out a breath as the material pulled at the gash. Hadvar poured half the vial of potion over the wound, closing it despite the depth of the gash, but it was once his attention was off of the wound that he noticed the glazed look in her eyes and the way she was pressing her thighs together and shifting slightly as though trying to ease a pressure deep within.
He tried to hand her the vial but she groaned and shifted again as his hand brushed against hers. The soldier knew what was happening, knew that the lust potion had been growing in effect for a while now and that they were out of time. At the same time he knew she needed to drink at least the rest of this potion to be healed from her latest brush with injury. Images flashed through his imagination, the two of them surrounded by their discarded clothes, pressed skin to skin as he kissed the young woman deeply and something deep inside snapped. All his restraint went out the window and he put the vial of potion to his lips and took a deep pull of the liquid before leaning down and sealing his lips over Wren's.
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She couldn't breathe, the blinding, agonising heat that had coursed through her earlier had hit once more as Hadvar had lifted her from the stonework. The blood loss from her side was making her dizzy but she tried to pull her mind back from the brink as he placed her back on the cobbles, having moved her, perhaps it was cleaner here. She didn't know. The combination of the two feelings was drawing her further and further away from reality. Her vision was wavering, as though she was seeing everything through a pool of water, but she tried to focus on Hadvar's eyes as his face swam in to view. The warm brown depths seemed to be asking her something and it was all she could do to nod in response, she trusted him, there was nothing he could be asking her right now that she wouldn't agree to. Her mind was taken over by pleas spinning through her mind on repeat, unrelentingly, please, oh please, oh touch me. It was all she could think about.
Pain momentarily lanced through the haze that lust was weaving around her. She hissed as her body turned the pain in to pleasure. His hands were on her body and it felt like every nerve ending had sat up and taken notice, every millimetre of her skin rejoiced at the feeling of the slightly roughened pads of his fingers brushing against it. It seemed harder and harder to draw the air around her in to her lungs and no matter how hard she tried, Wren could no longer push the feelings away.
Lips.
His Lips.
On Hers.
There wasn't time to prepare herself. Wasn't any warning. She'd been so consumed by the feelings beneath her skin that she hadn't even noticed him leaning in.
She gasped as her entire body reacted, arching in to him, desperate to feel more. It was beautiful and terrifying at the same time, each touch sending flames licking down her skin, sending her further in to the dizzying spirals, dragging her down.
A trickle of cool liquid flowed down her throat as Hadvar opened his mouth, lightly licking at the inside of her lips. The sensation alone made her shiver, and the contrast of his warmth and the coolness of the potion made her feel even more sensitive to his ministrations. She could sense the tendons and skin of her side knitting together as the potion took effect but it certainly wasn't the main thing on her mind as he continued to kiss her.
Suddenly he pulled away and Wren desperately tried to follow his lips blindly, eyes still closed. When she couldn't feel him close anymore she opened her eyes, ready to beg for more. She looked up and saw Hadvar kneeling before her, legs on either side of her right leg, one hand rested on her waist, gently exploring the skin that was exposed by her shirt riding up. The rough pads of his finger trailed patterns of sensation along the thin band of skin. His other hand was gripped tight around the neck of a half full red bottle, stopper hanging from its string, but he seemed to have forgotten about it. His eyes were fixed on his other hand where skin met skin.
Unable to wait any longer, and unwilling to remain passive as this beautiful, terrible heat rose beneath her skin, she leant forward and captured his lips with her own. Hadvar's eyes widened in shock and he seemed to stutter for a moment before his eyes closed and he sank in to the kiss, pulling her infinitely closer. Her entire body was pressed against the hard planes of his armour now and the sensation that rocketed through her was indescribable.
Giving in the instincts of her body she ground her hips against his leg, conveiniently held between her lags as it was. Hadvar groaned in to her mouth at the feeling. She tentatively moved her hands to his chest, desperate to be closer, only to be met by stiff, studded leather. At her apparent dismay, Hadvar removed one of the hands holding her to him, slipping it between them so that he could begin unbuckling the leather that held the armour together. Pulling away slightly, he pulled the breastplate over his head, leaving him in his undershirt and trews.
As the armour clanged against the cobbles of the floor Hadvar felt himself rise from the tendrils of lust that had enveloped his brain as she had ground herself against him. No man would have been able to withstand such delicious torture.
But as he looked around, he realised that no matter how much he wanted her, it couldn't happen like this. She needed release, and he would do his best to give her that, and then they would leave this place and at least have a conversation before…anything else happened. She was drugged. How could he even consider taking her without at least ascertaining whether she wanted him or not.
He kissed her again, running his fingers through her hair, holding her to him, pouring his feelings into every second of their contact. Keeping one hand in her hair, using it to tilt her head so he could press heated kisses against the skin of her neck, he sent the other on a trip, sliding smoothly down her side. Brushing gently against the side of her breast, feeling her shudder as she registered the sensation, he continued his journey, fingering the knot in the rough rope that held her trews up against his onslaught. It came apart easily and he gently slid his hand inside, whispering to her the entire time, telling her how he was going to make her feel good, that she was safe, how much he loved the feeling of her soft smooth skin against him, anything to bring her closer to the edge.
His own arousal pushed against his tight leather trews. He'd never been so aroused in his life, no encounter could even begin to rival the feelings and sensations he felt with Wren. Waiting was tortuous, but he would never, could never, force himself on someone who was unwilling. Despite formal law making her his, despite her current status as a war-prize, despite her seeming willingness, nothing would change his mind about waiting, though that didn't make it any easier.
His fingers finally encountered his goal and he couldn't help but groan at the warmth surrounding him as he gently parted her folds. She stiffened as he touched her and he instantly pulled back, asking her permission, assuring her that he wouldn't go any further without her consent.
Looking in to his eyes, she bit her lower lip as she nodded her assent and he couldn't help but drop his head and groan at the endearingly innocent gesture.
Moving his fingers to her fold once more, he ran one finger from the base of her slit to the top, sweeping her moisture up, towards the little bud that would help her find what she needed. He gently pinched the hood, feeling her wiggle at the sensation, her breathing becoming swifter as she moaned her approval. Every previous encounter had been leading to this, he realised, as he put everything he'd learnt as young man to good use. Leaning slightly to the side for a better angle he used his longest finger to tap the emerging bud repeatedly, before moving away again, running his fingers lightly over her folds once more, knowing that the anticipation was half the journey. Coating his fingers in her juices once more, he teased her as he moved in to a more comfortable position for them both. He was behind her again, she was leant against his chest as he leant against the wall, head thrown back. Unable to calm her breathing, unable to stop her chest heaving, her hips writing at the sensations he was creating. He'd never seen a woman so engaged by lust, so fully in to what they were doing together.
The perfect specimen of a Nord, though he'd never thought so himself, Hadvar had never lacked lovers, had always been a favourite of the ladies, both in his original holding and in Solitude when he had joined the Imperials. He knew he was a good lover, always seeing to the ladies pleasure first, often leaving them spent and sweating long before the night ended. He'd certainly had no complaints, especially since he'd grown out of his awkward teenage state, all gangly limbs and clumsy flirting. But here, today with Wren, was the first time he'd let himself go to lust, the first time he'd been captured by the spell along with his partner, swept away in a rush of sensation and lost inhibitions. Her face as he drove her closer and closer to the edge was beyond anything.
Not wanting to tease her too much, he moved his fingers once again to her bud, which was more pronounced now, hardened, as they were want to do. He could feel her shiver every time he brushed his finger over the sensitive nub. Almost no time passed before he felt her breathing hitch and her chest arch. Raising his head from her neck, where he'd been trying desperately to distract himself from what was happening below, he sealed his mouth over hers as she cried out in pleasure, twitching and writhing in his arms as her entire world exploded without warning. He continued to touch her gently as she came down from her peak, stopping before she became too sensitive, letting her return to the world.
Her eyes had cleared slightly and she was no longer shaking, but before she came fully back to herself, Hadvar had replaced her clothing, surreptitiously raising his fingers to taste her, before regretfully being forced to wipe away the remains from his hand. They needed to get out of this cave. He had to get her somewhere safe, somewhere they could work through these effects without disruption or possible viewers.