Chapter 28: Wrapped in Steam

Portia pulled her hair free from the bun behind her head, and allowed the brown folds to fall across her shoulders. Her hair had grown a bit longer, now reaching the tips of her breasts as she prepared for a bath to rinse away the day's filth. It was mid-afternoon, and the students had already left, leaving the grounds mostly vacant and private as her muscles awaited the warmth of fresh water.

There were two baths connected to the sparring yards—one for men, and one for women—and being one of the few women to come here, she had the pleasure of the room to herself as she stepped through a pillared archway and into a swath of steam. There was a natural hot spring beneath the marble that she now walked across, and the stones were warm with its caress, the room so steamy that its edges were lost to Portia. She paused by the edge of the square pool before her, toes tickled by water as she stared at a circular window cut high into the domed ceiling. Its light cut through the steam in visible beams, and the scent of lavender drifted beneath her nose, beckoning her. Thank the gods for these few, relaxing moments.

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She would keep the sphere from him?

Mehrunes scoffed as he crossed the training yard, sword at his waist. The lessons were done for the day, but the teacher was here, for he could sense her. The shedding of fresh blood had his aggression heightened, and the elf's dying mockery of his power and ability didn't help the matter. He could and would have gladly killed someone foolish enough to fight him at this moment, and for that reason, it was fortunate that Portia's class was not ongoing. To challenge her now...the prince was not always the most controlled of people, and when he had a hunger for confrontation, battle did not always stop when the other opponent was down.

Mehrunes entered a hallway and felt Portia's presence more acutely than before, the sensation conjuring a whisper of thought that denied his bloodlust. Yes, he could kill her now, but yet again, he decided against it. The assessment of his more cautious side took precedence with an ease that astounded him, demanding that bloodshed be contained, and when one lived for eternity, taking time to complete a task was tolerable for the most part. Death was an art at which the prince excelled, but there were other ways to destroy a person that took much longer and more exacting hits.

His blood raced as he approached an entryway obscured by steam. She was hidden behind that veil, and since Mehrunes very much wished to gradually make his presence known, he was forced to control his emotions. Cooling himself came quite naturally under such circumstances, for he'd already killed one enemy today, and the sight of a fallen foe had satiated the more primal parts of his personality. There was also the calm lull of the bathing room as he entered its warmth, steam wrapping around him as he set his cloak and sword aside, and the knowledge that he would be alone with Portia quite pleasing.

She had a frost atronach's chances in the Deadlands of escaping him, and never had he been more sure of that as Portia came into view. The elf who'd seemed to be in her favor was removed and punished for his transgressions, and never again would those golden hands touch this woman who now stood with her back to him, torso wrapped in a thin, white towel. Mehrunes allowed his eyes to roam over her figure as he stood at a distance, the white layer of steam making Portia look as if she stood alone in the center of a cloud, floating in nothingness. Dark eyes glistened with fascination and lust as the towel slid down hips and legs, pooling at the woman's feet and exposing her bare skin to his blatant and appreciative stare.

Mehrunes wanted to see her front, where he would gain a better view of the scar on her hip (among other things), and with desire mounting, the prince marveled at how easily this woman invoked emotion in him, whether it be anger, annoyance, frustration, lust, relaxation, or amusement. He wasn't sure which was more dominant as he had the urge to reach out and touch that skin, the attraction amplified by memories of the previous night when he'd pressed lips to hers in an impulsive claim that had not be warded off.

One of Portia's legs lifted and slid into the water, her body moving forward into the spring as arms fanned out to gently swirl the water's surface. Mehrunes would take the opportunity to find and search her clothing, but between his drive to find the sphere, he kept glancing at her, her head tilted backward to rest on the edge of the pool as steam concealed most of her body. He was content to watch for the time being, somehow detecting her inner peace and sharing in it. Was it the connection between them? He thought so, and he wouldn't question it for now. He was too busy feeling the rush of blood in his ears as he wished to outright claim what he wanted as he usually did, but he couldn't here, which was both frustrating and enticing.

Portia couldn't be controlled or seduced so easily, and he wouldn't want that. Fresh blood, naked flesh, and a step closer to reclaiming his property...Today was a good day, and he was going to make it last, but how long could he stand and watch before his restraint dwindled? He had questions; Portia had answers, and her current, vulnerable state was wearing down his calm reserve with each movement of her body.

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The water felt amazing as Portia dunked her entire body beneath its surface, hands pushing hair back over her head, and a slow, easy smile playing across her lips. Slick tresses clung to her neck as she returned to the air, waterline resting beneath her breasts as she reveled in the moment. She needed to come here more often and indulge in these simple comforts, but she was almost always rushing off to complete another task when classes ended.

Nothing can be this peaceful, she thought, but something dark stirred on the edge of her calm. It was restless and relaxed by turns, first behaving like a caged lion, and then withdrawing. The intrusion would have made anyone feel conspicuous, and so Portia rubbed a bar of purple soap over her arms as she scanned the room, even knowing that she wouldn't see anything. The spirit attached to hers could only be Mehrunes, who wasn't here, but he still felt close, and what was he doing? It was unlike him to express conflicting vibes, for his emotions were usually focused and overbearingly powerful, but now Portia almost felt as if he was drifting between solace and strife, and there was something else—something hot and demanding that would have made her squirm if she hadn't adapted to his encroachments.

She splashed water over her arms to rinse away residue soap and spun in a circle merely to feel the water swirl around her. It glided across her torso, and she sighed in contentment, willing herself to ignore Mehrunes. This felt so nice. She could stay forever if she didn't...

Portia froze, no words finding their way to her mouth as she stared upward at a figure standing at the edge of the pool. Eyes traveled up boots, light pants, and a red tunic that was unlaced at the neck in the room's heat, and Portia's throat constricted as memories of a fleeting kiss assaulted her. Then she met the man's eyes with their intent focus.

"Cassius," she breathed, shocked to find him here, and annoyance growing at this breach of privacy. Yet she did not shrink into the water as she might have, for under that gaze, she stood taller, lifting her bare breasts from the water to show that she would not whither under his scrutiny. If he would be bold, so would she, and with defiant bewilderment, she continued sliding her hands through the water as she collected herself. No one had ever seen her like this before.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"Appreciating the view," Cassius smartly replied.

"You don't have permission to be here," Portia continued, avoiding his smoldering gaze with the way that its blatant desire disconcerted her. You could be more forceful, her mind whispered, but as during the kiss, she found herself slow to aggressively reject what Cassius was expressing. There was a depth of honest and raw energy to the man that gave his words a potency that so many flowery flirtations lacked.

"I don't ask for permission," Cassius told her.

"I don't care. You should leave."

"Do you want me to?" he challenged. "Or would you rather know why I've come?" Portia watched him carefully as he began meandering around the edge of the pool, her body slowly turning to keep him in sight as he folded hands behind his back and continued to stare. She sensed danger, and every fiber of her being told her to stay away from him, even as she wondered what he would do if she exited the pool.

"Tell me why you're here," she roughly ordered, causing him to chuckle.

"You're beginning to sound like me," he noted. "You're always so much more polite around others, but you and I don't like playing by the rules, and we don't have to when it's just us. But to answer your question, I came looking for you, and when I realized that you were here, I couldn't resist." His movements reminded her of a pacing animal as Portia felt his vision burn across her chest as she stretched. She had the impulse to cover herself, but she was the one at a disadvantage here, for he had her trapped, which meant that faking confidence had never been so vital. She needed to maintain some semblance of control or she was sure that he'd exploit an opening.

"So do you like what you see, Cassius?" she taunted, raising arms above her head to wring out her hair.

"I've always liked what I've seen in you," the man replied after a moment's hesitation.

"Then you've gotten your view and may leave," Portia suggested.

"No, I don't think so," Cassius smirked. "And you can't make me do anything, Sherkyn. Would you dare to get out of that water with me standing here? I wonder if you're as bold as you act."

"Don't think that I won't do it," Portia fumed. "Perhaps I cross lines, as you've said, but you push me to it, and in all honesty, I think that you like seeing me accept the challenge, Cassius. You've been trying to goad me into confrontations since we first met." They stared at one another, and the hidden amusement on Cassius's face told Portia that he couldn't deny her assertions. "Horace doesn't tell you what to do," she continued. "I doubt that anyone does, but I won't bullshit and cater to your moods, so you can stop playing your games." Cassius stopped walking, his face contorted into a rare stare that was intense enough to match his former leer, but of an entirely different nature. He was staring at her like she was some kind of rare gem, and his serious face was only altered by a thin half-smile.

"I wouldn't expect less from you," he stated. "You've always tackled whatever I've thrown in your face, and yes, I like conflict. If you had any idea..." He smiled and shook his head. "Ah, woman, you dive in over your head and then deal with the consequences as they come. It's not something that people usually survive..."

"And what happens if I don't want to be your entertainment?" Portia questioned. "If I stop playing your game?"

"Then you'll lose faster than you already would," Cassius said, frowning and sounding displeased. "But you won't stop fighting, Sherkyn, and you don't want to disappoint me." And then he waited for her to make the next move, Portia watching him for a few seconds to collect her willpower. She didn't need to do this. You can stop playing his game and set a new precedent right now. Take control of this, but she knew that she couldn't by trying to out wait his presence. No, this had to be done in a different way, and with her pulse picking up pace, she dared to turn her back on him, and began pushing through the water until her hands met a stone rim.

She pulled herself from the pool with water glistening across her slick body, every inch of her exposed to the mocking man whom she could no longer see. She was nervous and uncomfortable, but she managed to maintain a steady pace as she moved toward her towel, a hand extending to snatch it from the floor when fingers intercepted her course. Breath caught in her throat as Cassius grabbed the towel and pulled it from her, the man standing there before her with it in his hands as she straightened.

"That's mine," she needlessly stated, the man shooting her a taunting grin.

"Of course it is," he agreed. "But allow me to do the honors." Portia could barely think straight as he stepped closer and began drying one of her arms, the towel working its ways over her shoulders and then down to her breasts, the fleshy skin easily moving beneath his pressing ministrations, and Portia staunchly refusing to flinch. Let him try to win embarrassment or surrender from her, for he would have neither, but she also knew that she couldn't allow this to continue. Accepting his challenge was one thing, but allowing him to dry a pathway down toward her...

"This scar," Cassius mused, face serious as he eyed the symbol carved into her hip. "It's the seal of the Deadlands—the symbol of Prince Dagon's power." He did not touch it with the towel, but merely held the cloth near it as he examined the wound with uncanny captivation.

"Does it mean anything, or is it only a seal?" Portia asked, wanting to know, for the curving lines were on her—part of her—and they would never vanish.

"It is an old symbol reserved for the prince's use alone," Cassius murmured, still fixated. "Daedric has changed over the centuries, and some words from the beginning have fallen out of disuse, but this one never will." He reached out his other hand to touch it, but Portia grabbed his wrist to stop the movement. "Does it repulse you?" Cassius asked, meeting her eyes. "To have such a scar?"

"No," Portia firmly answered. "It still hurts, but it's my burden to wear, and I'll do so." No more running from what troubles you, she reminded herself, feeling it more than ever as Cassius refused to leave her. Being able to withstand his questioning made her feel stronger, even braver, for no one else would dare ask these questions or get close enough to even form them. It seemed a privilege reserved for him, since he alone was bold enough to force his way through her comfort zone. In some ways, his actions were reminiscent of Arelius, yet so very different since Cassius pried into areas that her boss would never touch.

"This is how Mehrunes Dagon hurt you?" the man guessed.

"To shame me," Portia humorlessly smiled. "To break me, but I've collected my life."

"A badge of strength then," Cassius approvingly pondered, rolling the idea slowly off of his tongue while the towel again pressed to her flesh, right above her navel so that the hanging edges of cloth grazed her thighs. She'd never been so exposed to a man before, and she shouldn't...her fingers slid from his wrist as he retracted the hand traveling toward her scar, and he closed his eyes. He was peaceful again, but Portia couldn't ruin her chance to do what she'd almost forgotten in conversation: turn the tables.

"Enough," she firmly told him while forcefully ripping the towel from his relaxed grip. "I'm not going to stand here naked so that you can appreciate my battlefield of a body." Cassius's eyes flew open at that, the heat back in them as Portia began wrapping the towel around herself. She could feel his stare, and it seemed to slip inside of her, passing her defenses to distract and taunt her in ways that should not have been possible.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I do not take orders?" Cassius darkly reminded her, frowning before something wicked seemed to occur to him. He leaned closer, his tunic dropping forward so that Portia could see the toned chest that lay beneath, sparse dark hair trailing down the center in a thin line. "But the largest of your scars—the one that he gave you...do you realize that the symbol denotes ownership? Have you ever wondered why a daedric prince would claim you?" Portia saw red in that instant, his words worming inside of her skull and rekindling memories and words spoken so long ago and yet still riveting in their intensity.

"He does not own me," she ground out. "No one does." Cassius chuckled, and before she realized what she was doing, Portia reached out and hit him hard across the face, his dark hair whipping through the air as his head snapped sideways. There was a snarl, a fierce pressure exerted on her waist, and when she opened her eyes, his hand was on the scar, but the pressure was lifting, and the feel of his palms against tough ridges of skin felt strangely fitting, or so the warmth inside of her professed. Was it the sphere? The connection was opening, causing Portia to sink deeper into chaos, and her mind vehemently refuting Cassius's words.

No one owns me! The phrase triggered a chain reaction of energy throughout her body, and its direction was uncontrolled as she let the surge slip from her grasp, Portia frightened by its intensity and the way that Cassius stood blankly before her, quiet and sober as if in concentration. Ah mortal, it's in every pore of your body. Mehrunes? His voice was inside her head, and she could smell the spice and violence of his persona.

"Someone will own you, Portia," Cassius stated, oddly calm considering the slap, and she snapped back to reality. "Hardly anyone remains whole and independent for a lifetime, but when the time comes, will you give yourself away, or will you fight until the bitter end? Goodbye, Sherkyn, and well played." He stepped back into the steam and exited the room without a further word, leaving Portia to stand with one hand clutched to her chest, keeping the towel in place. Goblin's gall, hos had she summoned that much energy? She hurried to dress, the hip scar more prominent in her mind than before as she recalled how Cassius had looked on it as if it were beautiful. He understood why you no longer regret the pain, she realized, feeling as if the man knew her better than anyone else. Pants were pulled up and buckled, and a tunic tucked into place, but still she could not shake the feel of him drying her body out of her mind, and what's more, part of her had wanted him to continue.

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"I'm sure that I'm not the only one who felt that," Traven muttered, deeply concerned with the power emission that he'd just sensed rippling through the capitol. No human wizard could create such a current, and the wind whispered of darkness and corruption, not light. It was the girl with the chaos sphere, and without a doubt in his mind, the Arch-mage was determined to make a forceful move whether the Blades liked it or not.

Damn them all, he decided. The artifact could not be allowed to remain in the hands of an uneducated commoner, and the government had been most unappreciative of his advice to store it at the University. Now he would not allow them time to debate their next move, and he was sick of listening to the polite but firm bullshit and denial that Arelius was giving him. The time to wait was over, and if a disaster was going to be diverted...Traven moved from the window and muttered a spell to call together his most trusted councilmen.

The girl would soon learn to give greater shape to the power in her possession, although he couldn't for the life of him understand how. The stories concerning the spheres must have been myth, for if a lone swordswoman could survive channeling Mehrunes' power, surely a man like him could completely master it? To wield such power...

"This is not for me," Traven protested, folding robed arms across his chest. The artifact could not be used, but studied, and then its fate would be safeguarded against Oblivion. It was the only way, and he was utterly confident that he possessed more wisdom than the Imperials serving the crown.

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Thanks for the reviews everyone. I hope that no one has forgotten some of the details from earlier on due to spaced out updates, and I also hope that the interaction between Mehrunes and Portia is still enthralling. I realize that he's cornered her several times now, but that's the sort of behavior that his personality is geared toward.

Also, and I feel like a total idiot for this, but I don't think that I've mentioned Portia's hair color anywhere in this story yet. What the heck is wrong with me? It makes me wonder what everyone has been picturing, but anyway, I mentioned it here, and I'll need to go edit earlier sections to put it in place. (picture me slapping myself here) Enjoy the fast update!