Of Mongrels, Fools and other Riff-Raff

by Kynrael

Formerly Two Girls One Jester - Rated M for later Chapters - Not so much fluffy Romance, but friendship, morbid moments, debauchery and bloodshed - 2X F Dragonborn / M Ingame Characters. Of two mongrel Sisters, Fools and other Riff-Raff trying to make a living or at least finding some entertainment.

2. 2 With a family and friends like these

Note:
Unlike my first chapter, which was purely for introduction, the coming chapters will be always the PoV of a single character.
This one here will be about Ashlyn's PoV

Warning Lore/Canon:
Usually before I write a story and create my characters and the story around them, I do some some serious digging through Lore and Canon such as Wikis and Discussion Forums. Meaning - I try to stick as close to the Lore and Canon as possible (except I am using crossover jokes/quotes for the mere sake of fun)

So if you find stuff in my story, of which you think it's totally against Canon/Lore - Links, please ^^
Because I found no stone chiseled facts or official "indisputable" Lore/Canon standing against what I am using in my story - even the books inside of the Games very often contradict each other =P

Chapter 2 - With family and friends like these...

Ashlyn - Ivarstead

It was hard to tell how long Ashlyn had been hiding inside the bushes, waiting for her target to show up. The night had come clouded, heavy with the dark promise of icy winds and wet snow. The mere thought of it made her shudder. Plenty of burs had attached themselves to her cloak, and to her horror some beetles had dared to seek shelter inside the hemp of her sleeves. Crawlies and she didn't get along very well.

Who in Sithis' name had performed the Black Sacrament on a harmless nutcase?

'What if I refuse to kill someone who couldn't even hurt a skeever caught stealing cheese? I really don't want to become the laughingstock of the Dark Brotherhood.' Ashlyn thought, hoping her sister wasn't asleep.

There were no words for how much she envied her sister, who also had the better contracts and now was snug and warm in bed with some guy wrapped around her like a blanket. A bit of reflected languorous warmth tingling down her nerves wasn't simply the same as the real thing. And this contract wasn't the real thing, either.

Myrabeth thoughts were a bit sluggish, though they didn't hide her sister's irritation,'Stab him in the eye and he will drop dead before he even realized what just happened. It's what we do, it's that simple.'

Ashlyn sighed, not having expected such harsh words from her sister, 'Easy for you to say. You don't get nicknames like roast beef and midnight snack. Besides, I feel somewhat sorry for that poor sot.'

Myrabeth gave her one of her infamous mental stinkeye, 'Eh? You never had a conscience before, so don't start having one now!''

'Don't be ridiculous! He's harmless and crazy - killing him is a bad joke on my behalf. ' Ashlyn protested

'By Sithis' balls! Do you have the mopes now?' Myrabeth's thoughts were tinted with worry. 'It's because of that necrophile fool, again, is it? Gods, I swear I should have eaten him before you had a chance to take a closer look at his face. One last time - humans don't live that long and he didn't even look anything like that chubby newspaper courier from our childhood.'

Ashlyn drew her eyebrows together, having a hard time not to hiss audibly, 'Stop badgering me about this, will you? The jester simply reminded me of someone I knew and cared about,' she had to exhale slowly, to keep that ferocious growl inside her, This here is different and I swear by the Dread Father if someone's backbiting because of this - I am going to stab his guts until there is no blood left to shed.'

'Whatever… now let me sleep, yes?'

A desperate call came from deeper inside the trees cut through the night, "Reyda! Reyyyyda!"

Ashlyn almost jumped out of her boots. 'Note to myself. No bickering with siblings while on the hunt!'

She prepared a muffle spell while her left hand closed around the ornate hilt of Mehrunes' Razor. The mockery this contract would earn her galled Ashlyn immensely. A quick cut across the throat and Narfi would never ever cry for his sister, again and setting Ashlyn's teeth on edge.

With closed eyes and slowed breath, Ashlyn fully opened her senses to her surroundings. Here and there were a few rodents hiding in their burrow and some night bird preying on a hare. No signs of anyone else close by, which, considering the shitty weather would have surprised her had it been any different.

On silent soles, she followed the unkempt man through the underbrush toward his house and almost her head on a low hanging branch when Narfi stopped to bewail the sky, "I can't see you, Reyda! I can't find you! Why are you hiding? Hiding, hide, hide, hide! Don't make me sad!" Ashlyn cringed at his voice, tempted to cover her ears.

With a powerful leap, she launched herself at the rambling man ready to put him out of his misery. Now or never and onward to ridiculousness. The wind began to pick up force turning into a fierce frothing storm. A searing bright flash split the darkness around her and Ashlyn found herself frozen in mid-air.

"What the fuck?" she gasped before her lips, too, became immobilized, not believing what just happened.

"Tsktsk, is this a proper way treating my subjects? Who is going to worship ol' Sheogorath, if I allow my mongrels to decimate their ranks?" a droning voice from behind scolded.

"Why do old people always have to get in the way?" Ashlyn pressed through her clenched teeth and had a rather painful date with the hard pine needle covered ground.

The elderly man came closer, bent down and grabbed Ashlyn by the ear pulling her upwards, "Bad manners, as always. Show some respect whelp." When she stood on her toes, he tugged harder. "You could at least have asked if he was available for culling… I would still have said no, mind you. But you could have asked!"

Still being held in place by by her captured ear, Ashlyn only managed a wince, "If I don't put him out of his misery I will risk the wrath of Sithis!"

"Nonsense! Sithis is a slowpoke incapable of appreciating the beauty of madness. I have never seen him attending any of our parties... actually, we never invited him." Sheogorath pinched her already pounding ear even harder while he moved toward Narfi "Now put that cheese slicer away - can't you see that I already have granted him mercy?"

Ashlyn snorted almost expecting another pull, "You call that delusion about his sister mercy? Not that I really care, but I call this madness. Now show some mercy to me and let go of my ear, pretty please?"

If her grandfather kept her like that any longer, she either would end up with a cramp in her toes or one ear longer than the other.

Sheogorath gave her a pondering look and finally let go of her maltreated ear, putting one arm around Ashlyn's shoulders, "Don't be such a party pooper." He drew her closer while pointing his cane with the other hand at the frozen Narfi, "Madness is a bitter mercy, perhaps, but a mercy none the less. A lesson you still suffer to learn I fear - blood of my blood. But there's hope at the horizon... yes, there always is and maybe one day I will invite you to one my tea parties. Wouldn't that be marvelously insane, bringing our small family together and having a strawberry torte? I got fresh entrails, too."

Ashlyn passed him a doubtful glance, "Well, when I return to the Dark Brotherhood without having fulfilled my contract I won't be around long enough being invited to anything except my own funeral. Plus, I hate strawberry torte!"

"Don't talk such rot, it makes my teeth itch!" Her grandfather released the human from his spell, "Just let your grandfather take care of this, aaaaaand here we go." he drawled and magically produced Wabbajack with one of his theatrical gestures.

A few heartbeats later, a billy goat stood in Narfi's place, bleating at them almost accusingly before it lowered its head in her direction. Her grandfather seemed quite rapt with his little trick, and not the slightest bit worried about those pointy horns.

Eying the Narfi-goat suspiciously, Ashlyn moved slightly behind her grandfather, "A billy goat? You can't be serious? I thought you want him alive and not ending as cutlet."

"Serious? Me? Never! Don't insult me," Then his voice turned into a dark dead serious baritone, "Well, sometimes I am. But not this time, I assure you… this is pure egoistic pragmatism. Where do you think all the wonderful cheese comes from? One can never have enough cheese! Oh. Now I am hungry. Thank you very much."

Ashlyn simply couldn't help it. Looking at the male animal and listening to her grandfather musing about all kinds of cheese, she had to burst into an almost painful guffaw, "I really want to see the cheese you're getting out of that milk…"

Ashlyn – Whiterun

"FUS RO DAH!" and the chicken went flying, followed by buckets, apples and other clutter people had dropped on the walkway. A dog squeezed his tail between his shivering legs and only dared a rather weak snarl at Ashlyn. Flashing a brilliant snarl back at the mutt, he ran off with a pitiful whimper.

It felt good to be home, although it would be a short lived homecoming. With a smirk on her lips she walked through the streets, remembering how her sister and she chased through the streets, startling everyone with their shouts. The guards had given up warning them off long ago. It had been pure bliss scaring the shit out of chicken and dogs, while annoyed peasants tried to keep out of their wake.

Still smiling, Ashlyn took the stairs to Breezehome and stopped dead, holding her breath as she listened to the not very welcoming sounds seeping through the wooden door.

The smile turned into a thin angry line before it fell entirely from her face. She could make out a high pitched screech of protest from her foster daughter Lucia, some man who angrily replied and Lydia apparently trying to keep the situation under control with her usual calm voice.

'What has that little toad done this time?' she thought with resignation and pushed open the door. "What's going on here? Can't I go on a business trip without having to worry about a family drama?" Ashlyn's voice sent an audible shiver through the house, everyone ducked for a split second.

Barely inside, Ashlyn caught Lydia's pleading look, while she tried to keep a growling Redguard from getting any farther inside the living area. "My Thane, finally! The last weeks have been a nightmare… there has been an incident with Braith again."

Her foster daughter stood, with a wicked looking dagger in her hands, inside the gap between her room and the cupboard of the kitchen. From the depths of her eyes shone fury and ferocious fear one would have only expected from a cornered animal, but not a child. That must have been a hell of an incident her fosterling had with Braith.

As the intruder turned at her, she recognized Amren. The one she had helped to get his sword back, when she had been new to the town. From the look on his face, Lucia most likely had one of her clashes with his bully of a daughter.

"Would anyone care to tell me what's going on or do I have to wait until the two of you are done being at each other throats?" she asked sourly, then pointed at her fosterling.

The Redguard went quiet and his shoulder slumped, "Dragonborn…" licked his lips nervously. He knew too well of what she was capable, when miffed. "Your daughter has attacked and wounded my Braith. They're both no angels, but this time Lucia went too far."

"Not true! Braith set my hair on fire and I just scratched that stupid cow a little to make her stop…" howled Lucia, but went silent the moment Ashlyn gave her a very dark frown.

"How can you allow a child carrying a real weapon? You have a responsibility as a parent!" the Red Guard accused.

Amren had a point. How had the girl managed to palm the dagger from Myrabeth's strongbox? She eyed the weapon carefully, but didn't recognize it. Then again, her sister had so many nasty looking daggers, hence she always kept a tight leash on her murdering tools and no one had shown her fosterling how to pick a lock, yet.

Ignoring his complaint, she turned at the shivering girl, "Lucia. Give me the dagger." Ashlyn said, holding out her hand. But Lucia didn't budge. "I am not repeating myself!"

The child still didn't move. Unnerved Ashlyn impatiently snatched the weapon from Lucia, before something worse could happen.

Lydia shook her head, visibly ashamed, "I am so sorry. I had no idea she had one of your blades hidden in her skirt. I will bear full responsibility for what happened."

"Amren. I don't know what to say." Ashlyn sighed in resignation. "All I can offer is to punish Lucia accordingly, and pay amends for the damage she did."

Brows creased in displeasure, Amren regarded her coldly, "I do not want amends from you! Such things shouldn't happen at all. The girl needs a stern hand guiding her."

Lucia kicked against the cupboard, "That's not fair. She burns my hair and I get the blame."

"What about your little escapade at the stables," Lydia asked. "Care to tell how you came to that? Was it your invisible friend Tristan again who told you to steal the dagger from your aunt's chest?"

Ashlyn eyed her daughter fuming carefully. "Care to elaborate? Who is Tristan?"

Amren growled, "That's her imaginary friend she keeps using as excuse for her transgressions."

"My Thane, do you really want to hear this? It's a rather long and embarrassing list. The Jarl already threatened to reinstate the pillory if she keeps up with her pranks," Lydia sighed, before she sat down and rubbed her face.

Leaning against one of her weapon racks, Ashlyn nodded. "I am a strong woman… so hit me."

Lydia gave her a very uncomfortable look, "Alright. But you better sit down. Four weeks ago she stole bee hives and released them at the temple of Kynareth. Another time she untied the horses and rode naked through the street, while hooting Ragnar the Red. Not to mention her constant pilfering of sweet rolls and garden flowers. Last week she goaded Braith into burning the haystacks at the Pelagia farm to impress some boy and well, I think that's the reason why the two of them got into each other's hair today."

When Lydia had finished almost an hour later, Ashlyn found no words to express her surprise without affronting Amren. That was indeed a long list of pranks her little Lucia had performed. If this hadn't been Skyrim, full with superstitious and stern no-nonsense nords, she actually would have laughed her ass off and thrown a party for the little toad. But this was Skyrim and not Sheoth.

'Myra, I am sorry to bother you… but have you just picked up what I just heard?' Ashlyn asked, hoping her sister would confirm her hunch.

'I have. Give her a hug and a big long smooch from me. I am so proud of her!' Myrabeth's mind almost brimmed with mirth, 'I know what you think, but I don't think the old fart actually took finally an interest in our little crosspatch. Just because you have adopted her, doesn't make her a part of our family in his eyes… you know how eccentric he is,' her sister replied.

If it hadn't been their grandfather, who then? Lost in thought, she almost forgot everyone around her. Maybe some homeless boy who used Lucia as a tool of revenge on the cruel harsh world?

She would ask her grandfather, nonetheless. Who else, if not the God of Madness, could entice a child to do such things? 'Riding naked through the streets… my ass.' Ashlyn heaved a sigh. Not even her sister had come up with that one back at Cyrodiil.

Myrabeth gave her sister a mental hug, 'Don't worry. We'll find the culprit. And if he doesn't exist… maybe it's time to consider her as a real part of our little brain damaged family?'

"My Thane?" Lydia asked.

"Sorry. I have to think. This is really a bit too much to take in." Ashlyn answered, drawing her attention back at the matter at hand. "So? No one has seen this Tristan?"

Amren shook his head, "No. No one did. Isn't it obvious? The girl needs attention, and because her mother is never at home, she invents a friend only she can see."

'Yeah, rub it in…' Ashlyn thought sourly, but kept er face straight when she addressed her fosterling "What do you have to say for yourself?"

'Rub what in?' Myrabeth's puzzled mind fluttered.

'Not you… see you in Falkreath sis.'

'You really need a good rubbing…' Myrabeth teased and went silent and Ashlyn had to resist rolling her eyes at the sentiment.

"Well sweetheart. Why have you stolen the dagger?" Ashlyn asked, trying to remain calm.

"Tristan made me do it. He said I am no fun at all and I won't have any friends unless I show some spine…" Lucia groused, but said no more.

Not in the mood to deal with a sulking brat right now, Ashlyn pointed at Lucia's room, "Alright… you don't want to come clean? Then get in there and don't show your ass in here until I tell you to. We talk later, when you have come to your senses."

Waiting, until the door to Lucia's room fell into its lock with a loud bang, she offered Amren a chair near the fireplace. "This won't happen again. Rest assured of that."

Amren snorted in disbelief, "How? You're never at home. A child needs a stern hand and constant guidance. You heard what happened during your absence."

"I am aware of that and that's why I am taking Lucia with me when I leave for my new home in Falkreath" Ashlyn explained, feeling very tired now.

She had planned to fake her death, and leave everything behind for Lydia and Lucia. The Housecarl would have been a far better foster parent and mentor than she would ever be. All she had to offer was a dangerous life among crazy Daedra, thieves and killer. She loved the girl and never regretted having taken her in, but the recent events made Ashlyn dreaded it at the same time. The child, a mere human without any defensive skills, could become very quickly a victim of their crazy world and aquaintances.

Lydia's eyes expressed uncertainty, "I don't understand, my Thane?"

Ashlyn gave her Housecarl a reassuring smile, "Don't worry my friend. I will transfer the ownership of Breezehome to you, before I leave. Whiterun has been good to my family, but I can't honour my position as a Thane any longer and it wouldn't be fair to you in the long run."

"I am sworn to protect you with my life, my Thane. Where you go, I go!" Lydia said matter of fact.

It both warmed and pained her to hear this. Lydia was a good and loyal soul, always calm and never fussed about all the crazy things she had to endure with her and Myrabeth around. They had fought dragon's fire, pillaged crawlies infested dungeons and stole mammoth cheese from the giants. Lydia had helped her with Mehrunes' Razor, and not even fussed once over killing that snivelling wannabe demon worshipper. For that Ashlyn would always be grateful.

But the path she had to follow out of love for her twin sister, was one she had to walk without Lydia and the Companions. Ashlyn heavily doubted the Dark Brotherhood would tolerate someone who wasn't a member of their little family, not even a dear friend. Having Lucia around was already a huge risk, a liability that will most likely turn into a royal pain biting her in the ass real hard.

With no warning whatsoever the room suddenly began to sway and spin in front Ashlyn's eyes. Two strong hands quickly came forward grabbing her by the shoulders, "Dragonborn..."

She had been up for almost two days and very little rest, no wonder her body gave up on her. "Please, let us sit down before I drop on my nose and make a fool out of myself. Come on Amren, you can let go of me and stop glowering. Let's have some ale while we find an appropriate solution. Yes?"

The evening stretched deep into the early morning hours and Ashlyn's eyes were so heavy, it became harder and harder to follow the dialogue.

Much had happened in her absence, and a lot of it had a disturbing undertone. Most of all, the story about this Tristan guy turned out to be a real mood killer.

Ashlyn had no doubt that Lucia was telling the truth in this matter, because her fosterling was far too stubborn and aggressive to lie about her doings. Lucia carried a painfully stupid pride in what she did, even if it called for a good trashing afterwards.

Someone had meddled in her family affairs, and she even couldn't hold it against Lydia. The woman was only human and had not the slightest idea who she was serving as Housecarl. Ashlyn had never told her about her heritage. Nords loathed Daedra and everything connected to magic and even if Lydia would show acceptance, she would draw the hate of the others at her.

oooOOooo

Everyone was helping her with her relocation project, except Lucia. Three days had passed, and her fosterling had still the audacity to sulk and accusing her of being a mean spinster. Ashlyn was in a terrible mood. The ominous Tristan hadn't shown up either. One thing was for certain. If one of her brothers or sisters from the Thieves Guild was responsible for this mess – heads would roll and she would dance on their flayed skins.

Farkas tapped Ashlyn's shoulder, "Got the cart for you. I took the one with the cover, should it rain."

Leaning her forehead against the door frame, she closed her eyes. "Thank you Farkas. I think two more crates, and I am done here."

Right now she was busy getting that little brat out of her room without damaging the door. Ashlyn couldn't leave her old friend a damaged interior just because she couldn't handle a child. "Lucia, do you hear me?"

Time wasn't something she had in abundance right now, thanks to Astrid's tight schedule. One week she had said, was all Ashlyn and Myrabeth would have getting their private life sorted out. It made her wish that the need to move hadn't arisen. Now she had to deal with it.

"We don't have time for this!" Ashlyn tried again, „If you don't move your carcass out of that room in an instant and help packing up your things, I am going to scorch your beetle collection. Do you hear me?"

"Go away! I hate you." came from the other side of the door. Maybe tearing down the door wasn't a too bad idea, after all?

Exasperated by so much defiance, Ashlyn slammed her fist against the locked door, "I mean it! You're still too young to have girl troubles and anger issues…"

From behind came muffled laughter, "Maybe you should try a sweet roll to lure her out."

Lydia's eyebrows shot up, "Are you out of your mind Vilkas? The girl needs a good spanking and not a reward!"

"Be my guest," Ashlyn snarled at Lydia, which made Vilkas laugh hard and almost topple over the fireplace.

"Let me talk to her. You're too agitated" Farkas whispered, slowly pulling Ashlyn away from the door. He looked over his back and said, "She reminds me of Vilkas when he had one of his hissy fits… I know how to deal with that."

Grateful for his offer, Ashlyn patted his hand. "You have no idea how much I will miss you Farkas."

"You're welcome sister. And. Uh… don't tell Vilkas about what I said, yes?" the huge Nord smiled down at her sheepishly. "Vilkas still has his hissy fits, sometimes."

Pulling his head down, Ashlyn planted a kiss on his unshaved cheek, "Don't you worry about that. Now get her out of there. If you should decide to bite off her head, I won't mind. But make sure you wrap it up for later use."

How he managed to stay emotionally balanced all the time, completely unruffled by temper tantrums, childish displays of aggression between Njada and Athis or unfair remarks of his brother was a mystery Ashlyn never had been able to solve. Farkas was simply Farkas and she would truly miss that old crabber.

Going through a list of things she still had to buy, Ashlyn went upstairs to check on the more private possessions she didn't want anyone else to touch. Luckily they never had many possessions, except for some hoarded jewellery, books and weapons and she was grateful for this circumstance. Most of the crates she would take with her were filled with raw materials and ingredients for their crafts and only a very few contained clothes and weapons.

Upstairs, she opened the door to their bedroom and almost fell backwards on her butt as the musty stench of old air and something decaying hit her in the nose. Her eyes scanned the room, but everything looked clean and tidy. No footsteps. Nothing tussled or moved.

"By Sithis…" she hissed, pinching her nose shut and went for the nearest window. Had Lucia hidden a dead Falmer in here?

Breathing through her mouth, she opened the chest at her side of the bed and got through her belongings. A few of those would remain with Lydia, like the Axe of Whiterun and the heavy dragon bone armor. Only Sithis knew why her sister had kept insisting on making one of those heavy clunky things.

One piece after another, she emptied the chest, placing everything on the bed, folded clothes and sorted amulets until the glint of black metal on a black silken cloth caught her eye.

Over two hundred years ago, an ebony dagger and a black cloak, both bearing the insignia of the Black Horse Courier, had been given to Ashlyn at her twenty-sixth birthday. It had been a rather unusual gift, but the message behind it had been quite clear to her – friendship and trust.

She reached inside the chest, feeling for the cloak and found that the cloth was still in a very good shape. If the cold temperatures and the weather hadn't been so unforgiving in this god forsaken place, she would not have hesitated to wear it.

With a sigh, Ashlyn stuck her nose into the soft fabric for a few moments before putting the cloak behind her on the bed. For now it would be stored along with her other valued keepsakes. Perhaps, one day, she could find herself a trustworthy tailor, who could upgrade it into a somewhat warmer version.

Turning back the chest, she picked up the ebony blade and couldn't help the fond memories flooding her with images of a happier time. It had been her first real weapon and a reliable friend for so many years that she couldn't even remember why she had it hidden away along with her other treasures. Lovingly she traced the insignia on the worn leather sheath and smiled with relief to find it still unblemished.

Without hesitation Ashlyn removed Mehrunes' Razor from her belt and replaced the soul stealing weapon with the reclaimed ebony blade. A few enchantments cast on it, and she would put it to good use again, soon.

After she was done with her side, she moved over to take care of her sister's belongings. Bending over her the nightstand, she had to gag at the stench wafting up at her from under the bed. She almost had forgotten her sister's morbid treasure and judging by the smell it most likely had liquefied itself by now. No wonder the open window hadn't been any help here.

Holding her breath, she went down on her knees and reached into the darkness. A wooden box connected with the tips of her fingers, and Ashlyn strained farther under the bed until she got hold of a small rope attached to the box.

Her lungs began to burn from lack of air, but Ashlyn refused to inhale the stink the Hagraven head gave off through the wood. Carefully, she removed the top of the box, expecting the worst and let out a disgusted girlish window shattering shriek which sent the box skittering across the floor.

The disgust of its content had her paralyzed and shivering. Maggots! Tiny little squirmy maggots! Why hadn't her sister listened and put some more ice wraith teeth into the box before leaving. Tempted to kick at the box, she slowly slid backwards on her butt until she hit the wall.

Given her past, no one could really call her mincing. Plenty of giant spiders and chaurus had found their death through dagger, staves and fireballs. She had bathed in blood, slept on entrails and between mummies. But all those tiny itty bitty wormy creepers, they had her running and screaming like a little child in an instant.

From downstairs, she heard a weapon being drawn and quick steps coming toward her room. Ashlyn only could hope that it wasn't Vilkas. He had a tendency to keep rubbing in the most embarrassing moments, until it wasn't funny anymore. And knowing Farkas she wouldn't be allowed killing him for it.

Aela came inside the room, holding her nose, "What happened?" As she looked down at Ashlyn, her eyebrows drew together into a frown, "What's that in the box; fish bait?"

"Maggots…" Ashlyn breathed through her teeth and pointed at the box.

"Don't be such a baby," Aela groaned and picked the box up giving it a probing look before she turned back to the stairs. "I'll toss it into the forge before it stinks up the whole house."

Ashlyn scrambled to her feet. "Don't. Myra asked me to bring it with me."

"Alright sister! You take care of it now, or there won't be much left. That fish bait looks dangerously fierce and hungry!" the huntress explained with a smirk and put box back on the table.

Not having a choice, Ashlyn grabbed the box with outstretched hands, propped the lit on it and moved downstairs. Maybe she should Lucia take care of it as some sort of punishment. That would teach her to refuse her elders.

Ashlyn - Falkreath

Fast asleep and curled deeply into her furs, Ashlyn dreamt of howling werewolves riding on gigantic rolling cheese wheels through crowded streets of Hackdirt, led by a prancing Sheogorath who had a dagger swinging Lucia sitting on his shoulders.

Cheerful naked figures seamed their path, dancing, rutting, feasting and waving at the absurd cortege, while the swishing blades cut through their throats and limbs. One after another fell, the streets ran red with blood and entrails but the shrill laughter and moans of bliss never ceased.

It was arousing madness, dementia and mania in perfect harmony celebrating a blood-stained orgy. Something meant to never happen again. A deep rumbling growl of frustration escaped her throat as her sweaty body went rigid, welcoming the slowly spreading wave building up inside deep inside her until she shattered. Ashlyn's eyes shot open and narrowed the moment she realized that it just had been a dream. Slightly disoriented, she lay there in her cold bedroom in Falkreath, panting hard for several long moments.

"Now, that looked like one hell of a wicked orgasm," a bemused voice rasped into her ear.

With an outraged gnarl Ashlyn rolled around, facing an impertinently grinning Daedra staring back at her. "Sanguine! I should have figured. Only you can come up with dirty dreams of that magnitude. What the heck are you doing here and how did you get in here?"

Feeling an itch in her hand, she formed a fist ready to break his nose if his answer wouldn't please her.

Sanguine's dark lips curled back to a flashy grin, "I'll take that and your previous display of unbridled passion as a compliment." Her fist surged forward aiming for his face, but ended in his hand, "Missed me that much my dear?"

"If I say no, will you go away? I haven't summoned you, and I do not like the naughty uncle in my bed…" she muttered and withdrew her hand. "And I am still mad at you!"

Propping his head against his hand, he regarded her with shameless interest, "My my, you're a feisty one holding a grudge that long. Don't you want to know what I have to say, before you go all crosspatch over my sorry hide?"

Searing hot chunk of Daedra meat or not, she didn't trust his agenda when it was about doing something for him. And he was always up to something, let it be party, bloodshed and then party, or getting drunk, bloodshed and then a bloody orgy. Whenever that oversized boozing party whore was involved, things went out of hand quickly and in the end she had all the troubles and none of the fun.

"First, I want you to explain why you're in my room, in my bed with your clothes on and most of all, with your dirty boots on!" Ashlyn pointed out, poking her index finger into his chest along with each spoken word.

Before she could withdraw her hand again, he snatched it back and held it close to his chest. "Can't an old friend of the family visit without being snarled at?" The smug grin on his tattooed face really screamed for a deftly placed fist.

"Old friends don't intrude. They either wait for invitation or ask for permission! Now out with it, what do you want? My sister and I can't be that entertaining…" she complained and yanked her hand out of his, ignoring the sharp claws cutting into her skin.

With one arm coming around her hip, he hunched Ashlyn closer against his bulky frame and nipped at her neck "Solitude's Queen intends to cancel the annual Burning of King Olaf this summer. We can't let happen, can we? The Lord of Debauchery wants his party, a spectacular party and you two will make that happen for good old uncle Sanguine. Am I right?"

Without even thinking about any consequences, her body yielded against him and feeling the blatant arousal pressing against her butt-crack, she was torn between expressing violent protest and her own need to tear his clothes off.

In this form he was a sight to behold, all black skin and hair, his facial crimson tattoo and the horns adorning his head were a real turn on. She really liked him better this way.

"Does it involve doing dirty things with you?" she purred, and almost hoped he would say yes.

"What if I said yes?" he murmured against her throat which she answered with an inviting wiggle of her backside against his codpiece.

Sanguine face brightened against her nape and he lost not much time getting out of his clothes and back into her bed where she pinched his taut front, "I see you lost some weight. Where has that paunch gone to?"

His laugh was low as he slipped under the furs and settled snug between her legs, "Too much battle and the latest parties haven't been up to my standards. But! Some good food, wine or beer could change that. I don't even know what good beer tastes like, anymore. Got some for me?"

"No wine or beer for you this time – you owe me that much!" she growled up at him and enjoyed the face he made.

Slightly crestfallen, let his head slump down between her breasts and sighed "And they say I am cruel…Damn you wench, you're going to ruin my reputation!"

Grabbing his horns, she pulled him close so she could look him deep into his black abysmal eyes, "I want you sober and your full attention. Not like last time when we both ended up barfing all night. I'll bet you had that wine spiked with something nasty just for the sake of annoying me."

His horns still in her grip, he stared back at her one eyebrow arched, "You're not holding that still against me, are you?"

As she felt something warm and sticky spreading above her navel, he cocked her a cheeky grin, which she answered with a mean sneer, "You sly bastard…" and began to rub the soft skin of her belly up and down his erection, eliciting grunts and hissing sounds from him.

"Slow down woman!" he groaned and bit down on her collarbone, but it didn't stop her teasing him.

Now that was more like it. A complacent smile tugged at her lips each time his body flexed and flinched at the friction. It was so crooked, and so damn rewarding to see his features twisted in bliss that it took all her will not to squeal in delight. It was rare enough to see him sober, and now having him all for herself made it all the better.

As if Sanguine had read her mind, his arms moved around her neck and underneath her arched back while his lips and tongue traced along the edge of her jaw, up to her ears and down her nape until she couldn't stop the keening moans from escaping her throat.

The rasp of his rough tongue and sharp fangs against her sensitive skin set every nerve ending on fire and nearly pushed her over the edge as his clawed fingers traced the slope of her ass and grounded her moist warmth against his hard length. The old bastard definitely knew how to drive a woman insane.

"Keep that up and I am going to incinerate…" she pressed through clenched teeth and bucked against him, his oozing tip only slipping in ever so slightly.

Sanguine's sharp fangs sank painfully deep into her shoulder, "I'll drive you mad first…then you can incinerate."

They repeated the little game several times, yet every time she came up to meet him, Sanguine gave her a dirty smirk and jerked out of reach. Frustrated and deprived, she clawed at his buttocks.

He looked down at her with greedy calculating eyes, but didn't budge "Getting antsy, huh?"

"Stop torturing me!" she breathed, and dug her nails deeper into his butt cheeks when he closed his mouth over hers.

Hungrily she responded to his kiss. They struggled against each other, fought like ravenous cats for the upper hand; leaving bite and scratch marks all over their bodies, until Ashlyn managed to straddle his hips and pinning him back down into her bed.

His black eyes stared up at her, not leaving her face once while she lost herself in the ecstasy of the moment, allowing her hips to surge forward, rocking and twisting sliding over his hardness forth and back. As Sanguine gripped her hips with both hands and pushed her down onto him in one hard stroke, she had to stifle a carnal growl of ecstasy.

Myrabeth's mental warning and frantic calls from downstairs had her freeze, and as she picked up quick footsteps coming up towards her room they both held their breath and stopped moving.

"Don't tell me you haven't locked the door…" he asked, in an almost bemused tone.

The door flung open, hitting the wall behind it with a loud shuddering bang and Ashlyn would have jumped out of bed like someone who had been caught red handed, if Sanguine hadn't kept her in a tight grip on top of him.

"Shit" she cursed, drawing the only left fur around her hips.

"Mom… I heard... eeeewww," Lucia started, but broke off and stared with big disgusted eyes at them.

Ashlyn asked sourly, "What happened to knocking, before entering one's bedroom?"

Sanguine now visibly amused, he burst into a severe guffaw, "Don't be such a hypocrite. I haven't knocked nor did I ask if I can come in…" Ashlyn punched him in the shoulder. This wasn't funny. She had been so close, and the weeks of depravation had already turned her into a soft brained simpering fool.

Myrabeth stumbled into the room, hauling the girl into her arms, "I am soooo sorry. I tried to stop her from coming up here."

Why did such things always happen to her? Why couldn't she simply have a good time without any kind of distraction, interruption and disruption?

Lucia's mouth opened and closed a few times before she found her voice again, but when she did her arm rose and she pointed at the Daedra, "What are you doing in my mom's bed, Tristan?"

Tristan? Ashlyn looked down at Sanguine through narrowed eyes. "You are Tristan?"

He only gave her a lopsided grin "Oops!"

"You paedophile bastard! Oops? I'll show you Oops" her roar shook the house, and somewhere in the neighbourhood several dogs started to bark.

Not looking the slightest bit guilty, Sanguine shrugged at her, "Now calm down. I can explain… it's not what you think."

She hated that phrase! Not thinking twice or wasting time on words, Ashlyn flew into a rage, clawing and hitting at him. She would give him the trashing of his life and if that wasn't enough, she would cut off his balls and stuff them up his ass. The thought of how close he had gotten because she had been sexually deprived and brain addled made her angry.

From the corner of her eyes she saw her sister scooping up a befuddled and shocked Lucia, Knowing that her fostering was safe, she turned her blazing glare back at Sanguine who pushed her off him and took flight without even reaching for his pants.

She followed him outside the house, cursing at the tiny sharp pebbles biting into her feet, but not willing to slow down. She didn't care that it was cold; she didn't care about the barking dogs and a lone beggar throwing fearsome looks at them.

The story of a naked and hysterical laughing Daedra and shouting Dunmer running through the streets of Falkreath would live on for centuries, Ashlyn was dead certain of that.

"WULD NAH KEST" power surged through and up her body, pushing her forward but not close enough to jump Sanguine, who ran faster than a wine barrel rolled downhill.

The dragon in her roared to life, her blood boiled with fury as she marked him for death, "KRII LUN AUS"

"Are you insane woman?" Sanguine panted, barely managing to evade her clawing hands.

"I'll send you back to your shit hole, and kill you over and over again when you show your ass here again," Ashlyn raged.

By Sithis she would tear him to shreds and dominate him as it befit a Dovah and then she would feast dance on his entrails until her deadric side was satisfied. And if that wasn't enough, she would perform the Black Sacrament on him herself.

Still not in reach she bellowed in frustrated anger, "FUS RO DAH"

That had him flying. His large frame came down with a pained grunt between a couple of winter berry bushes. Ashlyn took that chance and pounced on his back, pummelling his shoulders with her fists, clawing at his already bruised skin.

Sanguine's body was still tremoring with heavy laughter and before she became aware of his intend, he had her pinned beneath his now much heavier form. All air drained from her lungs, making it harder to breath and fighting him off. She was much stronger than most mortals and even most dremora. But a daedric Lord was another story.

"Stop that nonsense, you're only going to break your pretty hands," he snapped and captured both her hands by the wrists. "You're damn lucky to call that old geezer Sheogorath your grandsire or I would kill you right here and save your body for my next feast!"

Still enraged she spat, "You pervert, you molested my daughter!"

"Wrong! Your little girl performed an ittty bitty little ritual to have me summoned," he growled back at her. "I don't do children. But knowing that she's your brat it made me curious and so I answered her call."

Seeing stars, her body slackened and she let her head drop back to the ground, "Why the hell would she call upon the Lord of Debauchery? She's too young for booze, sex and not to mention your bloodied parties…"

Giving her a long probing glance, he slowly exhaled and shifted his body a little. "It wasn't anything like that. She wanted a friend that wouldn't mock her constantly and so I let her playing pranks on everyone in return. She was really good at it. She even managed what your sister didn't… stealing a goat from a giant."

"And you expect me to believe that?" she asked with disbelief. "Nords don't take such affronts lightly. How could you promise Lucia a friend and let her make enemies of those who live around her?"

Sanguine propped his forehead against hers, "I hate being sober and having to explain myself. That's so not entertaining."

"Answer my question," Ashlyn bit at his nose.

Nudging her head back, he dared a small smile "I wanted to give her one of my artefacts, the usual thing for making me laugh. Before you start biting and scratching again; it would have been a lesser version summoning a very obedient lesser dremora."

Head-butting him she scolded, "You have nerves. Do you even realize how much stress that has caused? The girl will be traumatized for the rest of her life after what she had seen... she doesn't know that her foster family is not entirely mortal!"

"Will you stop attacking me, if I promise to make up for the trouble? I am good at massages." he gave her his most charming smile.

Ashlyn pushed at his heavy chest, "Get off me, I can't breathe."

Slowly, he moved off her and before she could scramble out of his reach Sanguine dragged her back on his lap for warmth. "Better?"

"Somewhat. Though I am still freezing my ass off out here" she said and huddled closer against his hot skin. The twigs and dry leaves biting into her tender skin weren't exactly comfortable. "Why the heck haven't you told us about this? You should have known better than doing this behind our backs."

He shrugged, "Dunno. I haven't really given it much thought; I rarely do to be honest. It was a real fun show she delivered and even the old man was impressed from what I heard."

"She's a human child, for crying out loud, and off limits for you from now on. Do you hear me?" Ashlyn freed herself from his embrace and scrambled to her feet. "Now come inside. It's cold here and my backside is covered with forest litter."

Before she could turn to walk back to her house, he got hold of her left hand and tugged her back into his arms. "Not so fast. We have still unfinished business..:"

Biting back a mean comment, she turned her face at him. "I think I'll pass today."

Both his hands came up and clutched against his chest, his voice sounding theatrically hurt "You break my heart. But no! I was talking about my little task for you in Solitude. I want you and your sister to go there and make that festival happen. There hasn't been a decent party in ages and it would be a real shame if that royal hussy of a queen cancels the Burning of King Olaf out of some lousy notion about her butchered bloke."

Cocking her head, she thought for a moment and then smiled sweetly. "Alright! But what was that about making up for the crap you did? You owe me now thrice… two botched nights of promised passion and messing with my daughter."

Visibly annoyed, he let his shoulders slump, "What do you want?"

Putting one finger on her lips, she cocked her head at him "How about your not-quite-holy staff?"

His lips crooked as he came closer, "I thought you'll pass on that today?"

Ashlyn glared at him menacingly, "You know quite well what I am talking about."

"Are you sure it's what you truly want this time? The rose comes with a price, you know" Sanguine's voice grew serious and thoughtful. "Last time you emptied a whole barrel of very good and rare beer over my head for even considering you as bearer and I am not used to handing over my artefacts just like that."

Ashlyn shook her head and snorted, "Since when do you care if people have thought things through before interacting with you?"

"Well, interacting with the two of you requires careful thinking from my side, if I want to keep my balls intact," Sanguine frowned first, but after a few moments his face cheered up "So, if I give you my pretty rose, will you and your sister become my champions of sinful pleasures and spread chaos and merriment in this world?"

Freezing and barely capable to keep her teeth from clattering Ashlyn nodded "Aren't we doing that already? Now hand it over before I turn into an ice statue."

With a lazy gesture, he summoned a long gnarly staff adorned with a rose and handed it to her with a courtly bow. "Very well, then. Here you go - a rose for my favourite spit-fire and champion. Think of me when you use it and don't forget about Solitude, yes, or you make your uncle Sanguine cry."

A split second before he vanished in front of her eyes, he slapped her real hard on her buttocks, laughed and was gone. "Bastard" she rubbed her backside, turned ethereal to avoid the bitter cold air and trudged home.

Once inside, she snarled at her sister who sat next to the fireplace. "Next time make sure, no one comes barging into my room when I am having fun and don't you give me that smug lip of yours… or I'll split it!"

Myrabeth let her head loll back as she laughed, "By Sithis' arse. I had no idea he could be so damn hot. If I had been so lucky the last time. Oh boy, I would have tied him to my bed for the rest of my existence. I am really sorry it went all wrong again."

"Yeah thanks to you!" Ashlyn hit her sister with the rose on the head "You have been peeping all the time, why haven't you warned me earlier?"

Myrabeth sighed, put a finger to her lips signalling her to be quiet "Shsh. I am glad she finally sleeps. Man, she really thought he was hurting you… poor girl. Now tell me, what have you expected? The two of you weren't exactly quiet and the little skeever was already up the stairs, before I could crawl out of my bed."

Snatching the last bit of bread out of her sister's hand Ashlyn sat down at the table, and reached for the Argonian Bloodwine. Maybe she should follow Sanguine's example and getting drunken more often, perhaps the world wouldn't appear so bland and boring then.

"Man. Sometimes, I really hate being a mongrel. I really don't know how you manage to have fun with common mortal rabble without shredding them to bits…" she sighed, eying the bottle in her hand.

Her sister shrugged with a grin, "I am gentle with my pets."

Grabbing for a glass, Ashlyn said, "Don't give me that shit. I am still amazed that you haven't eaten anyone, yet! Honestly, I am not having any luck with any of the guys. I can't even get a little sexual debauchery out of Sanguine, how sad is that? I wouldn't be surprised if he is currently laughing his arse off about my dismay."

"Awww come on!" Myrabeth laughed but went quiet at once "Hey, why don't you use that staff he gave you? Maybe we could have some fun together?"

Ashlyn scoffed, "Letting loose Daedra in my house? No way!"

"Chicken…" her sister yawned. "I am going to bed now and you should, too."

"What about our little skeever?" she asked her sister, giving the staff a long thoughtful look. "We never told her the truth about us."

Before her sister left the kitchen, she turned back at her and winked "Have some trust dear sister. Tomorrow she will only remember a weird dream. The blessing of a little dementia."

Looking the staff over once more, Ashlyn nodded inwardly and went straight to her room without saying anything else. The itch that ailed her right now needed some serious scratching and perhaps her sister was right. And why not?

Determined, she reached with her free hand between bed-frame and mattress for Mehrunes' Razor. Her smile grew wide as she invoked the power of Sanguine's Rose and even wider as a Dremora Kynreeve snarled back at her with violent intent. "I will tear out your heart and feast on it mortal."

But before he could attack, Ashlyn had him slammed against the wall and kept him there with the blade pressed against his throat. "I am not quite mortal, churl," she hissed and watched the daedra's eyes growing wide with realization. "You recognize the blade? Good." She pressed a bit harder into his skin, "I'll give you two choices. Stop yelling and plow me real hard, or end up as fodder for my enchantments."

---

I am currently in the middle of exam preparations. So it could be around end of April or beginning of May, before I release the third. It's already under way.

If you liked what you read and want to know how the story continues - please leave a small comment/review or any other signal to keep posting the new Chapters here. It's not so much for my ego, because I am finishing the story, anyway - but "interest" will keep me posting here, too.