I describe a lot of moded armors and outfits. Just because there are so many cool ones out there I wish I could use. But I play on the Xbox, so, no mods for me :(

xxx

The sound of chirping birds intruded on Caillech's sleep, the warmth of the morning sun spreading across her cheek. The sound of rushing water rousing her from her subconcious. She shifted and burried her face into the arm her head was resting on. She groaned as she stretched her whole body, her toes elongating, her arms and legs trembling for a moment before relaxing completely. The furs she was laying on were become too hot to bear and she writhed in discomfort. She opened her eyes slowly, squinting her eyes against the blinding light of the morning sun peaking through the trees.

Lifting her head from the muscular arm she rested on, Caillech looked to her left. Morvan was sleeping soundly beside her, his free hand resting on her bare hip gently. Other than his calloused fingers, they weren't touching in any way. She looked up at the canvas tent that had slept under, it was weathered and had no doubt seen many seasons, she wondered who it belonged to. Caillech looked down at Morvan again, his face was relaxed, almost peaceful. Her chest warmed at the sight of him, and her belly filled with a fluttering sensation. Which was sickening. Caillech gently pushed his dark hair from his face and tucked it behind his pointed ear.

Wait a minute...

Caillech ran her fingers gently over the point in his ear. It wasn't nearly as long or prominent as normal Mer ears, but it was unmistakable. She examined his face more closely. The high cheek bones, and sharp strong jaw hidden beneath his dark beard. Caillech had assumed he was Nord, but he did look elven, now that she took her time examining his features. His body shifted and he groaned, obviously noticing the weight of her head no longer pinned his arm to the ground. Caillech rolled onto her back and his hand on her hip curled to a fist and rested on her lower belly. She admired the dark tattoos inked into his tanned skin. The Nordic knot work was entricate and elegant, the shape of a dragon's skull stretched from his shoulder to his chest, just beneath his collar bone. Caillech wondered where he had received such a tattoo.

Morvan's eyelids fluttered slightly, and his brow furrowed. Caillech eased slowly from the furs, trying not to disturb him. Slipping from his hand, she crawled from the tent and stood, stretching her arms above her head. She glanced around the clearing in the woods, the small waterfall sending ripples to the shore. Caillech recognized the three stones that rested in the middle of the shallow pond, they had slept in Evergreen Grove in the Falkreath Hold. They had run far. Caillech crouched at the edge of the pond, cupping her hands in the cool, crystal clear water. Bringing her hands to her face, she rubbed the water over her flesh, washing away the sweat and grime.

Their night had been a good one. She closed her eyes and lost herself in the memory of last night. They had hunted to their hearts content, taking down three bears and one particularly nasty sabercat. They hadn't done anything with the bodies, but the people of Whiterun and Falkreath wouldn't mind the waste, if they were that much safer on the roads. Morvan had taken down two elk at the same time on his own, the stupid beasts were standing too close together. The venison that yeilded from that kill was laying in a pile on a bloody cloth beside the tent. Some of it would bring in a good small amount of coin at the market, the rest would go to the Companions.

A small smile tugged at the corners of Caillech's lips. She and Morvan had played together until their legs couldn'thold them up anymore. It felt so good to let go of everything she had been holding onto for so long, and just live. Since she had left Skyrim all those years ago, all she had ever done was try to preserve her own skin. To survive. Morvan gave her a chance to forget the world, even if it was only for a night.

"Good morning,"

Morvan's voice sounded grogily from behind her. She looked over her shoulder at him, he was laying on his belly, his chin resting on his hands. His eyes were warm and gazing at her fondly. Caillech's stomach flipped at the sight of his crooked grin. She smiled tightly at him.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty," she teased him, turning back to the water. Hircine's reflection rippled over her shoulder, his ice blue eyes piercing into her gray ones. His angular face was void of emotion, but his glowing eyes held a cold fury of such depth, it made Caillech's body tremble. Her heart began to pick up it's pace, sending adrenaline through her veins. She blinked, and the Daedric Prince vanished from the surface of the water, to be replaced with Morvan's crooked smile. He brushed his finger tips over the tops of her shoulders as she stood up. She took a deep and shaking breath in, attempting to slow her racing heart.

"What's wrong?" Morvan asked, Caillech could feel his breath on the back of her neck. She could hear Hircine snarling in her ear, obviously infuriated with the physical contact between herself and this intruding wolf. Caillech slipped from Morvan's caress and glanced around the makeshift campsite, searching for anything to cover her esposed flesh. She loathed the idea that Hircine had such a strong grip on her mind, even in her waking hours. There had to be a way she could escape from him.

"We should get back to Jorrvasker, they'll have noticed by now that I'm gone." she said, her eyes drifted to the tent, noticing a simple halter neck bodice and brown trousers folded neatly beside a pair of brown leather boots. Morvan must have fetched her clothes while she was sleeping. The idea warmed her from head to toe, but her blood quickly chilled when Hircine's fangs brushed against her shoulder. Snatching the bodice from the ground, she slipped it over her head.

"Yes, they'll be searching for you." Morvan's voice, so warm just a moment before, was now hard and cold, almost wounded. A hateful lump formed in Caillech's throat as she tighted the lacing of the bodice beneath her bust. Morvan grabbed a pair of dark brown trousers from the ground, giving them a quick snap to get the dirt from them before slipping them on. Caillech glanced at him out of the corner of her eye as she pulled her own on over her waist. His muscles were tense and rippled, moving with a tight and calculating manor. The very sight of his muscular back made Caillech's mouth dry, and her belly heat with anticipation.

Caillech pulled her eyes from the sight of the magnificent male before her and pulled on the boots roughly. She could feel Hircine hovering over her, and the thought made her almost want to vomit from anxiety. After she had pulled her hair back from her face into a tight ponytail, she turned to face Morvan. He was watching her intently, his green eyes betraying nothing.

"Ready?" he asked, pulling a knapsack from the ground and slinging it over his shoulder. She nodded her head jerkily, her neck muscles straining from the movement. "Let's go then," he said, and they began their long and awkward walk back to Whiterun.

xxx

The constricted feeling in Caillech's chest lessened as she and Morvan entered the city of Whiterun. They had walked in absolute silence the whole way from the spring, she could sense the hurt that was radiating from Morvan. It felt like a dagger to the chest to know she had caused it. Finally Morvan glanced at her over his shoulder,

"I'll meet you back up at Jorrvasker." Caillech's heart sank.

"Okay," she mumbled, watching him stride over to Carlotta Valentia, an Imperial woman who ran a food stand in the market. She eyed him resentfully as he leaned across the wooden stand, lengthening his body and grinning at the Imperial. Carlotta, usually so imune to the advances of men, swooned and batted her long dark lashes at Morvan. Caillech felt as if she was going to be sick. Tearing her eyes from the scene, she made her way up the flight of stairs to the Wind district of the city. Glancing to her right up to Jorrvasker, she saw Vilkas standing at the top of the stairs, his arms folded across his chest. Groaning inwardly, Caillech bounded up the stairs and stood before the disapproving gaze of her cousin.

"Vilkas," she said smiling at him.

"There's an elf here to see you." he said coldly. Caillech hesitated.

"An elf?" she asked, bemused. She had been all over Tamriel, but never really built a relationship with any individual before. Except Serana of course. Vilkas shrugged,

"Thought he was a Nord at first, but his ears are definitely elf." he said and turned to enter Jorrvasker. Curiousity bubbled within Caillech as she followed her cousin into the mead hall. Aela and Skjor were talking with a tall man who had his back to them as she entered. His long raven black hair was pulled into a half pony, his long pointed ears visible. Dark iron charms dangled and glinted from the pale skin. Caillech paused at the top of the stairs, her brow furrowing slightly. She eyed the back of the stranger's armor.

A black leather cuirass over a long sleeved white tunic, two golden embroidered belts on his hip. A ragged red shash tied around his waist, and what looked almost like a mages robe skirt fell around his legs. His broad shoulders were covered by gleaming ebony shoulder plates, with matching gauntlets clasped around his forearms. Caillech glanced up at the shoulder plates again, a black cape hung from his left shoulder, the end of it almost caressing the back of his knee. Blazing silver embrodiery accenting every inch of his armor, and undeniably Daedric.

Skjor gestured at Caillech with his head, and the man turned slowly. Caillech's breathing stopped, and her heart suck through the floor. The mans ice blue eyes met her wide silver ones, they smoldered and looked at her hungrily, almost glowing from the back lighting from the hearth. The crackling of the fire behind Aela and Skjor silenced, and Caillech almost screamed as Hircine launched himself at her. Her back slammed into the wooden door, and her feet dangled helplessly as she was pinned to the wood by her throat.

She scratched at the back of Hircine's hand, gasping and choaking for breath, her nails dug into the light leather of his black gloves fruitlessly. His sweet intoxicating breath filled Caillech's nose and a need built hatefully in her belly. Her wide eyes glanced at Vilkas, he was frozen in place, and looking over Hircine's shoulder, so were Aela and Skjor. It was if time had stopped.

"Caillech," Hircine purred, running the tip of his tongue over his lower lip. Her attention snapped back to the Prince before her. His lips were curved into that crooked smile, as his fingers tightened around her throat, crushing her windpipe. Her lungs burned and she writhed in his grip, fighting for breath. "You disapoint me, Caillech," he said touching his nose to hers, his glowing eyes boring into her. "You seem to think you only belong to me, while you reside in my Hunting Grounds," he wiggled a long finger in her face. Caillech grabbed onto the wrist that was holding her off the ground and her eyelids fluttered, her vision darkening.

"Hey, no passing out on me now." Hircine snarled, snapping his fingers. Caillech's eyes flew open, gazing up at the Prince in absolute fear. Magika sizzled between them, surrounding them in a slight aura. Caillech desperately tried to fill her lungs with precious air, but Hircine kept his tight grip on her throat. She kicked at his shins with her boots, wanting to scream at the Prince.

"You are mine." Hircine snarled at her, his lips barely brushing against hers, sending a shiver down Caillech's spine. If it wasn't for Hircine's magic keeping her awake, she would have passed out, her chest constricted painfully. It felt as if her chest were on fire.

"Do you understand me, Caillech?" Hircine's voice was low and demanding, the Alpha prominent in his words. She struggled to fill her lungs with air to answer him. Unable to fight his grip, she nodded as best she could against his hand. His eyes softened slightly,

"Good girl," he said and his lips claimed hers, before releasing his grip on her throat. Her boots hit the floor and she stumbled into Hircine's chest, gasping in lungfulls of cool air. The Daedric Prince cooed to her softly, stroking her hair and tangling his long fingers into the dark tendrils. He pulled her head back to look up into his eyes. She gazed into his glowing eyes, adoration smoldering in their depths. She had barely caught her breath before he forced her against the door once more, his mouth claiming hers. His body pinned her in place, and his hands coasted down to her ass, pushing her trousers down and exposing the soft flesh.

Bending down slightly, nipping at Caillech's lower lip roughly, he looped his arms under her legs and lifted her by her knees against the door, forcing her legs up and exposing her sex. Hircine groaned and Caillech gasped as his erection pressed against her already soaking folds. She had no idea how he had already managed to undo his own pants, and quite honestly she didn't care. She tangled her fingers into his long hair, tipping her head back against the door, moaning as Hircine lowered her onto himself. She trembled as he filled her with his girth.

Hircine bit the soft flesh of her neck as he thrust into her, making her cry out from the sharp lick of pain. He began a slow and gentle pace, allowing her to accomedate his erection comfortably, his breathing was harsh against the hollow of her neck. Caillech looked over his shoulder again, the Companions were still stuck in place, Hircine holding them hostage for the time being. Caillech trembled and moaned, pleasure rippling up her spine, causing her toes to curl within her leather boots. Hircine dug his fingers into her hips, pulling her up and down to meet his thrusts, pushing himself into her completely. Caillech pressed her forehead against his, moaning and gazing into his blue eyes hungrily. Why did he have this kind of affect on her? Why did the Prince choose her of all people? Why was he so adement about keeping her all to himself?

Hircine pressed his lips against hers, and she was lost to the feeling of him. Forgetting all of her questions, she embraced the Prince and yeilded to his wills. Their moans and grunts of pleasure filling their own private plane of reality. She was his.

xxx

Please, read and review :) And I don't know about you guys, but I imagine Hircine looks like Ian Somerhalder. Dark and Sexy ;)