This is Runa.  I messed up, really bad.  My mom is captured… or worse. 

 

Also, the Jarls of Falkreath and Riften are dead and in dominion hands. 

 

 

 

We’ve heard about streetfights between concerned citizens and Thalmor, but they’re winning right now.

 

 

“Runa, she wouldn’t have just disappeared without saying something…” Damien said.

I closed my eyes, “I know.  She’s flighty.  She runs around at warp speed, doing more things than any one person should be able to do.  Usually at least one of us knows where she is, even if she doesn’t stay there for long.  We searched the battlefield after it was over for hours, but couldn’t find her body.  And even with the best trackers available, there’s so much blood and guts and dirt and everything… We couldn’t even get a trail.”

“Her chess analogy rings true.  We cannot lose our queen this early in the game,” Ulfric said.

“I agree,” General Sialius said.

“There’s no way they wouldn’t have captured her if they knew who she was.  Too large a bargaining tool,” Fenrir added.

“Yes, but what if they saw her as the biggest threat and realized if they killed her now, we’d be significantly weakened,” Damien retorted.

 

“SHUT UP!  Just… shut up!” Serana shouted, “Destana is the woman I love.  While you’re sitting here talking, she’s probably being tortured.  Or she’s lying dead in a ditch somewhere.”

“What would you have us do?” I asked.

“I don’t know.  Just stop talking about her like she’s a commodity.  She’s a person,” Serana growled.  We could see something was happening with her skin, like a monster was ready to burst from this beautiful woman.

“What are you going to do?” Ulfric asked.

Serana clenched her fists, grinding her teeth until blood started to pour from her palms, fighting the Vampire Lord transformation, “I’m going to go find her.”

She discorporated into bats, appearing at the door.  She threw open the doors to the Palace of Kings, turning back to us.  Serana burst into her Vampire Lord form, for the first time any of us had ever seen.

“You can have your damn war,” she said in bestial tones, “I’m going to go find my wife.”

 

 

She cast a flight spell on herself and flew off.  Guards outside took a couple shots at oh-my-god-what-is-that-thing, but nobody found purchase.

The couple dozen people in the room that’d been mingling and going about their business were now frozen in fear or just shock.  The half dozen guards, Thane Alarik, Thane Skjorta, another half-dozen imperial soldiers, Jorlief, the random Stormcloak commander and Balfhe looked at Ulfric and us, the blessed children, for some sort of confidence. 

I could tell tension was running high.

 

“She’s on our side,” Ulfric spat.  A few people chuckled, shocked out of their worryful stupor.  But I realized it wasn’t going to be enough.

I cleared my throat, “Yeah, the damn elves took Riften and Falkreath.  We expected some losses here.  But we’re going to get them back.”

Fenrir added, “We have forces in Solitude, and here.  We have the volkihars.  And damn the elves if they ever take the Reach, because we have the forsworn on our side.  They don’t like us – but they hate the Thalmor.”

That seemed to quell the overwhelming sense of dread falling on people.  At least, for now.

 

Balfhe looked over to me, “I have an idea.”

We all turned to him.  I asked, “What’s that?”

“We should all be playing to our strengths.  Now that we don’t have our strongest… contender with us, I think we should focus on taking out some of the targeted threats.”

“Meaning?” I asked

“You’re an assassin.  I need you to do some assass~ing.”

“Actually, the correct term is assassination,” Damien muttered.

“Anyway, go see Sjard the Bloody.  I think he’s waiting on the bench in the Jarl’s Throneroom.  He has some targets for you.”

“Right.  One thing my mom did in the battle was stealth and take out a bunch of the high priority targets, like the commanders and the casters.  With any luck it might’ve set them back a few days at least.  And this might be able to set them back more,” I replied. 

“I’m going to gather our forces and figure out the assets we have,” Fenrir said.  He turned to General Sialius, “I want to take over for my mom while she’s away.  But you have a lifetime of experience on me.  All I have is exercises and combat.  I’ve never commanded a real force.”

“Don’t worry son.  I’ll help you find your way,” Sialius said. 

“The Thalmor only have so many secret prisons,” Damien said, “I think the mages and I can come up with something.  I’m going to Winterhold.”

“What the…” Fenrir clamored as he looked at the map table, “They got Helgen??  I’m going to go check out what’s going on down south.”

 

 

I stepped up to Sjard.

 

 

“Ah, so you’re the one Balfhe sent,” Sjard smirked, looking me over, “Well I won’t beat around the bush, let’s get down to business.”

“To defeat… the elves!” Fenrir sang in the distance.  He smiled a dopey smile, “Sorry, I wanted to lighten the mood.”

Sjard looked back to me, “Here’s the deal.  I collect bounties, you get the most top priority targets.”

“If you give me the lower priority ones, I have a few friends who can take care of them,” I smiled.

“Don’t worry, Listener, I got this covered,” Nazir appeared from around the corner.

“Geez!  You burst right out of the shadows.  I’m glad I’m not on your list!” Ulfric said from the throne.

“Were you just hanging out?” I asked.

“Your mother left a tunnel between here and Highreach.  A great many of the brotherhood are waiting at Highreach Keep are awaiting your command.”

“Good, good,” Sjard said, “For Runa, I’ve got a nord named Viguri.  He was giving secrets to the Thalmor.  That’s going to stop.  According to my sources, he usually makes the trade in Ivarstead.”

 

I made my way to Ivarstead straightaway.  Shadowmere seemed to be extra fast today, like he was mad.  I’m certain he knew what was going on. 

 

 

This guy was a pushover.  I walked up to him in the crowded Inn and slashed him through the chest.  Everyone stopped and looked my way.

“He’s working for the Thalmor,” I said.

“Good riddance,” somebody else said, and nobody stopped me. 

 

I rode back to Windhelm, getting there midmorning.

Sjard nodded to me, “You do work fast.  I gave Nazir a few more targets.  Here’s your next one.”

A Synod mage woman kept standing between me and Sjard, and she didn’t seem to understand personal space, so I just let him read off his dossier on the other side of her.

 

 

“There’s a Khajiit named Jo’Rokha that’s been stealing from our shipments.  Steals anything that isn’t nailed down.  Also sells Skooma to our men.  Every time he gets locked up, when he gets out he just starts again.  Not associated with the Thalmor, but he’s a thorn in our side.  Make him disappear.  And word of advice, he’s a criminal, so he will not be missed,” Sjard said, “He’s working out of Kynesgrove.”

 

This time was as easy as the last.  I was starting to wonder when the high priority targets were going to start showing up.  I walked up to him in Braidwood Inn, and stabbed him with my greatsword.  Easy.  I traveled back to Windhelm, it being about noon now. 

 

Next, the head of the Thalmor’s cartography divison.

“Cartography?  Like maps?” I asked.

“Terrain plays a crucial part in any military engagement.  And Skyrim is full of mountains and rough terrain,” Sjard replied, “Last sighted at dragon bridge.”

“Alright,” I said, heading back out.  This time I used the tunnel to Highreach and traveled down the road, not taking much time.  She was waiting on a porch at the Inn with one guard.  Very tall, and wearing heels, I noted.  Definitely not a warrior.

 

 

I beheaded the guard, and then stabbed her through the chest, taking her maps in the process.

“What’s the next target?”

“Shor’s bones, you’re good at this!  That was like half an hour!” Sjard replied.

“I’m coping.  Give me more to kill,” I said.

“This, this one just came across my desk while you were gone.  Urgent written in red ink.  Usually I hate that, and it makes me put it off for longer.  But I know who it’s from.  Velfhedi.  He’s a veteran of the civil war, and he’s talking up the Empire, saying Skyrim should rejoin the empire.”
“Fuck that,” I said, “I mean, no thanks.”

“No need to temper your words around me, girly.  But my thoughts exactly,” Sjard said, “He’s staying in Windhelm.”

I strolled down to Candlehearth and found the guy.  Supposedly he was a warrior in his heyday.  Maybe I should’ve given him a fair shot, but I didn’t.  I Marked for Death, then I caused his death. 

 

 

"Sorry for the mess!"

I went back.

“Here’s another.  Supposedly you have a counterpart in the Dominion.”

“So, you want me to assassinate the assassin?”

“Exactly.  Last seen in Morthal,” he said, “Be careful.  This one will be a little harder.”

“This’ll take a little longer, I’m sure,” I said.

And Sjard was right.  The bounty hunter was smart.  As soon as I entered the town, he fired an arrow at me from one of the new two-story buildings’ catwalks.  And it seemed I was right in the middle of one of the streetfights I’d been hearing about.  A retinue of Thalmor were fighting the still-present guards in the hold.  I focused my attention on the fight for a while, helping where I could. 

 

 

In the confusion, I managed to sneak up two the second story of the building and get the drop on the hunter. Of course, he actually put up a fight. 

I blasted him off the roof with a solid, “FUS!” And then finished the job on the ground.  By the time I got him, the Thalmor were dead.  Of course, so were several guards. 

 

I returned to Windhelm to find Sjard had no more jobs for me.  I sat with him for a while, but my mind was elsewhere.  I decided with Serana and Damien looking, I should retire for the night.  I trained with Shirley at Highreach and went to bed.

 

“Aventus, I hope you’re alright in Cyrodiil,” I sighed, then I said, “And mom, I hope you return to us.”

I’d never wanted to pray more in that moment.

 

----------------------------------------------------------

 

“Excuse me, are you Fenrir?” A man in robes asked.  He’d accosted me in the street as I was walking to Windhelm’s gates.

“Yeah.  Who’re you?”

“I’m with the Synod.  My name is Panthius Vanin.  Have you heard of us?”

“Ehh… mages?”

“That’s right.  Specifically, we collect magical artifacts for the purpose of research and preservation.  I know you’re busy with the war, but I wanted to ask your help with something that relates specifically to the war itself.  When the Dominion moved through Cyrodiil, we decided we would move some of our artifacts here for safekeeping.  We wanted to keep them out of the Dominion’s hands.  And now…”

“Let me guess.  The Dominion are here, and they’re about to or already have stolen your artifacts,” I said.

“Yes.  We lack the resources to move such a large number of artifacts in such a short time, so we made a deal with the Legion – letting them use our artifacts for war.  The Dominion attacked one of our caravans and took the contents to Fort Greenwall.  We need to get them back.”

“Well, magic weapons in the hands of the Thalmor is pretty bad news,” I said, “I’ll help you.”

I sighed, “That’s all the way over by Riften.  Gods, I need to learn some magic and learn teleport.”

“Speak with the Imperial Battlemages in the palace.  They want to help,” Panthius said.

 

“Amazing,” I said, I approached them, “Do you guys know how to teleport to Riften, or somewhere near?”

“Listen, guy.  I know you think all mages are good for is conjuring water and teleportation, but we can do other things.  But, not for you of course.  Piss off,” one of them said.

“Geez, lighten up.  I’m here to help you get your artifacts back,” I explained.

“Oh!  Sorry about that!  You a Stormcloak?  Don’t seem very magical.”

“I’m Fenrir Stormcloak,” I replied, “I am not magical.  But I do have a repeating crossbow and a lot of rage to get out.”

“Good, you’ll need it.”

They teleported us to right outside of Riften.  I turned towards the city.

“Whoa, kid. You don’t want to go in there.  All Thalmor.  Let’s just do the job,” one of the battlemages said. 

We gathered with a group of other mages, and the one in charge said, “When they said backup was coming I didn’t think they’d send you.  Maybe Damien.”

“Sorry, do I know you?” I asked.

“Galis Romoren.  Here’s the situation.  The Dominion troops stole the artifacts.  We’re going to storm the place and kill everyone inside.”

“Wow.”

“What, don’t like my plan?” He asked.

 

 

“No, it's fine, I guess.  Just, I’m used to flying with a group that prefers subtlety.  I mean, look at that ruined part in the wall.  I bet my mom would love to just jump up and climb into the fort and start sniping people.”

“You think you can do any better?” Galis asked, “How about this – you sneak in and when the party starts, we’ll storm in.”

 

I shrugged.  It wasn’t really my style, both in my skillset and my way of doing things.  But I figured I could get a good vantage point for the crossbow from the tower.  I walked over to the break and climbed on a rock to get inside.  Then I walked up a path to the high tower and watched the comings and goings of the guards for a few minutes.  I took aim, and fired a shot at a patrol, plugging her in the neck. 

 

Unfortunately, I am not a stealth person.  Most the guards in the Fort turned to the source of the bolt and saw my bronze-shelled dwemer-clad ass on the top of the tower.  I continued raining bolts down on them, and the mages started blasting through the front gates with fire and ice.  After a few minutes, I came down and hacked a few guards with axe and shield.  The Imperial Battlemages and Synod were storming into the interior and I was pulled along. 

 

One of the battlemages was dual-wielding staves, while Galis and one other were wielding greatsword in close quarters.  The rest only used magic. 

 

 

 

While they battled on, I ran down into the dungeon.  All the Thalmor had been called into the fight, so this was going to be easy.  I took out my lockpicks and popped each lock down the line open, freeing a couple Stormcloaks and several Imperial Legionnaires.

 

 

“The fight’s upstairs!  Get your gear and let’s bust you out of here!”  They did so, and helped us finish off the Thalmor inside.  I looted what I could, then we all headed outside, where three high ranking Thalmor wizards and their guards were waiting for us.  One of the battlemages summoned a Dremora Lord, and in the courtyard there was much blasting.  (I’m glad I have a magic resistance shield). 

 

 

Turns out the wizards who’d shown up were delivering the artifacts for safekeeping.  So we grabbed them and headed back to Windhelm.  The Synod thanked me, and I decided I would train with the Stormcloak guards for a little bit.  We all knew the strike on Windhelm was coming.  But we weren’t sure where they would strike next. 

 

When I came back into the Palace of Kings, it was dark and most the faces who seemed to never sleep were vacant.  Only Sjard was sitting in the hall, reading over his dossiers.  My dad, Balfhe, General Sialius, all the subcommanders, all the Legionnaires, everybody.  When I turned the corner near the throne, I spied a lone woman sitting on a bench that I couldn’t see when I walked in.  She looked up from her book.

 

 

“Oh, hey.  Your name is Fenrir, right?” She smiled at me.  I felt my heart skip a beat.  Imperial, with dark hair.  She was wearing what could’ve at one time been Synod robes, though they were cut into a short-skirt and showing healthy cleavage.

 

Realizing I was staring and not saying anything, I finally replied, “Uhh… yes.  Fenrir Stormdrain.  I mean Stormcloak.”

 

She giggled at me, “I’m Agrippina Clavius.  I wanted to thank you for helping us out.”

I shrugged, sitting on the bench next to her, “I feel like I didn’t do much.  All the mages shooting energy at each other and I’m just a man with a shield.”

“Don’t discount your contribution.  Most of us need men like you.  I’m not one of the greatsword types.  Though, I mean, I know my way around a shortsword,” she grinned.

Was she saying what I think she was saying?

She responded to my silence with, “You know, I haven’t been on many campaigns.  I’m just a Synod, not a Legionnaire like the battlemages.  I hear a lot of the time when soldiers come through towns the women are very happy… for a time.”

I blinked.  I’m pretty sure she was. 

She grabbed my hand and held it for a minute.  Then she put it on her leg casually.  Our eyes were led over to one of the female legionnaires sitting down next to Sjard on the far side of the hall.  They were loudly talking about old times with the legion, getting boisterous. 

“Apparently, they know each other,” I said.  She slid my hand up her skirt and I could feel wetness.  Velvety wetness.

A Stormcloak man and the other greatsword Imperial Battlemage (female) walked into the big doors, loudly arguing about something, but joking and chuckling. 

In the meantime, Agrippina slid her hand up my tunic parts and was returning the favor to me. 

 

We watched the two pairs getting heated – one arguing and one reminiscing.  Sjard looked at me, dead in the eye, and saw what was happening.  He grinned at me.  Then he took the Legionnaire woman in his arms and kissed her.  She slapped him, but then she kissed him back.  They sat down on the bench and started making out. 

 

When I looked over to the stormcloak and battlemage she said, “Ever had a real woman twist your club?”

 

 

I couldn’t help but laugh out loud at that and then Agrippina sat on my lap, facing me and putting her breasts in my face.  All bets were off at this point.  The three couples all started to undress and do what comes natural in front of each other.  It was a singular thrill to have other people watching, and be doing this in a public place where we could get caught. 

 

 

She pulled me to the floor and started to suck me off, then pushed me down and got on top of me. 

 

 

I lost sight of everybody else while she straddled me with her creamy thighs. 

 

 

In nearly half an hour, it was over.  I sat up, and realized the guards had been changing and were now back in the room.  And dad had walked in the door by the map room and was just standing there, unsure of what to do.  The other couples finished before the onlookers walked in and were now acting like we were the only ones who’d been fucking.

 

As we pulled our clothes back on, collectively the crowd clapped.  I felt like I was blushing, but Agrippina just smirked.

 

“We should do that again sometime,” she said, and disappeared into the Upper Floor, losing me immediately.

 

Ulfric patted me on the back, “All I have to say is – that’s my boy!”

 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

I may have stormed out and flew off.  I may have transformed, and I never use this transformation.  I see it as uncouth, like I’m accepting the gifts of that experience.  I’m not.  I’m just pissed.  Hi, this is Serana.  This is what I did today.

 

My first thought was – I know of at least five secret Thalmor prisons in Skyrim.  Why not work my way through them and exterminate everything inside?  Except the prisoners, of course.  Destana would be having a fit about how many prisons are in Skyrim.  It strains logic.  How have the Nords allowed the number of secret Thalmor places to get so out of control?

 

First – the Thalmor prison by Helgen.  Destana had cleared out this prison a while back, and sure enough it was full of the new Thalmor from the invasion now.  I ripped through them all with blood storm.  I’ve no time to mess with these fools.  No prisoners, though. 

 

 

I flew a bit north to find Greywater Grotto – a cave-based prison cleared out during the re-establishment of Helgen.  Or so I thought.  All I found there were a bunch of Imps, trolls, and a hunter woman named Fjona who I caught singing at the top of her lungs deep in the cave.

 

 

There were no Thalmor here to repopulate, and she saw me in VL form, but I was able to hide, vanish and calm down enough to go back into my natural state.  I could push the rage down enough to ask question at least.

 

“Hello.  I feel I may have caught you at an embarrassing time,” I said.

“A quiet song of glory.  Loudest of tragedies.  My name’s Fjona.”

“Serana.  Pleased to meet you.”

“I sing this song when I’m alone.  I longed to be a companion, a part of the circle.  But you see, one must give up a part of their humanity.  I was not willing to give it,” Fjona said, “I’d ask what brings a beautiful woman to a dank cave like this.  But I’ve seen the gargoyles and vampires running around killing Thalmor.  Now that you’re in human form, I see you’re not a threat to me.  Thought I’d have a heck of a fight on my hands.”

I cleared my throat, “In a way, I am.  I’m also looking for the woman I love.”

“Sorry, I haven’t seen any women in here.  Or Thalmor.  Just cave things,” Fjona replied.

I sighed, wanting to know more, but not wanting to delay, “Strange.  Why would you be just spending time in a cave full of dangerous monsters, alone?”

“I’ve grown weary of saying goodbye.”

“You know, Kodlak has died.  There’s a new Harbinger.  She abolished the old rules.”

Fjona blew a breath through her lips, “I’ll take that into consideration.  That’s the reason I left.  But not the reason I won’t return.  Seven years ago, there was a tournament.  Eorlund Grey-mane vouched for me and I was allowed to participate.  Isn’t that wild?  I was a girl then.  Sixteen, maybe.  But Eorlund had seen me grow into a skilled archer from atop the forge.  I was better with a bow than another that day.  I beat out Irileth and Aela.  She wasn’t at her best, but I’d never done better.  But the hate they threw at me for that – accused me of cheating.  They apologized of course, but I’d been with the companions even as long as I could hold a sword.  And now I’m here.  Wandering and killing rats and imps.”

“Well, I’m sorry for all that.  You really should pay your respects.  Actually, the new harbinger is who I’m trying to find.  And I must go.”

“Again,” Fjona said, “I’ll think about it.  Bye, lovely.”

 

 

Next, it was on to the secret prison Dreynos’ had been held in (Runa told me about this one).  But, no, nothing.  Not even repopulated.  Empty.

 

I flew on over to the Thalmor Embassy now, which was also surprisingly deserted.  They probably figured that would be the first thing we’d burn to the ground when they started to invade.  And they were probably right.  No peace could be had now. 

 

I had been following a path northward.  Finally, I got to my last stop:  Northwatch prison.  I prayed to the gods this would be the place.  Sure enough, there were Thalmor.  Or at least I thought there were.  A handful of Thalmor were fleeing the prison as I arrived, and I struck them down, stupidly, thinking there would be many others. 

 

I pressed forward to the next room and… a bunch of Stormcloaks just sitting in what looked like a bar for guards. 

 

They turned to me, but didn’t draw blades.  Strange, seeing as how I was in my Vampire Lord form again. 

“Hey, uh, you here looking for Thalmor?” One of them asked.

“Yeah,” I replied.

“When we got here, they were all running away.  Most of them teleported out.  If you killed those elites that were doing the last-minute packing – feel free to check out the spoils.  There are four of us and most of us are pretty green.  We knew we couldn’t handle them.  So, thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” I replied, confused.  I moved deeper into the prison.  Three warlocks had taken up residence in the deepest parts, which attacked me on sight.  And I ended their lives.

 

I had a look around.  I wondered why the Thalmor would flee so quickly.  There were dead prisoners.  A Khajiit and a few others.  And a whole room full of dead Thalmor guards.  Maybe ten.  I looked at the wounds.  Several were stabbed with different cutting instruments.  Some real daggers, and one here was from a Bound Dagger.  One wizard had his face burned off.  And this one… I blinked.

 

He’d had his blood drained from the neck.

 

I put my hands over my mouth, shifting back into my human form.  Daggers, magic, bound weapons, vampire.  FUCK.  I could feel tears coming to my eyes.  I slumped in front of a wall with chains hanging freely, dried blood coating every surface.  I tasted the blood, and besides being unsanitary and mixed with my tears, I could taste something familiar.  Like a meal I’d fed on a couple times now.

 

She was here. 

 

 

------------------------------------------------

 

It’s only been about a day.  When Damien said the Thalmor were researching strange, dimensional magics, I wasn’t certain how this could all be connected.  High Inquisitor Orthar Alkinius had been doing the villain thing and monologuing, so I may have gotten as much information out of him as he’d gotten from me.

“Of course, it won’t matter, my sweet Destana Dragonborn,” Orthar ran his hand on my cheek, “If you’re dead or perhaps worse after this, then you won’t be able to reveal our secrets to anyone.  So I’ll let you know what the high command is cooking up.”

“Bigger than Ancano and the Eye of Magnus?”

“You speak of such things as if you understand them,” Orthar smirked, then he grabbed one of my breasts, kneading it painfully, “This is fun, no?  I imagine all the boys want to paw your huge cow tits.”

“It’s annoying.  Are you an incel or something?” I spat back, “Just make your damn statement.  Ask your damn question.”

“Oh, no, don’t rush things.  I haven’t even begun to torture you yet.  How about this – if you will freely give me information, I won’t need to permanently disfigure your beautiful body.”

“Aww. You think I’m beautiful?” I snickered. 

He grabbed me by the chin, forcefully, then he said, “Yes.  Basics.  Tell me everything about yourself.”

Then he let go.

“Okay, well I was born in Hammerfell, spent a lot of time on a ship…”

“Just present day Destana.  What are you now?”

“Can any one person be defined by labels?”

“Yes.  That’s what I’m telling you to do,” he took out a very sharp, very small dagger and pressed it to my wrist.

“Please, if you slash me there, I’ll bleed out.  So go ahead.”

Orthar laughed, “No, no.  That’d be too easy.  If you don’t answer I’m just going to slash the tendon in your right leg, so you’ll never walk again.  The next time, your left.  We’ll see where we get from there.  I haven’t even started using magic yet.  I guess I could make you answer with compulsion, but it’s more fun this way.”

“I’m guessing your leaders don’t want any of this in a timely manner?” I smirked, then said, “I’m Queen of Skyrim, General of the Stormcloaks, Dragonborn.  Former Guildmaster of the Thieves Guild.  Member of the Dark Brotherhood.  Member of the College of Winterhold.  Harbinger of the Companions.  I’m a mother of three.  Two by birth, one adopted.  Married to Ulfric Stormcloak, Serana of Volkihar, and…”

“And..?”

“Sanguine the Daedric Prince, though we’re separated.  Also, I’m a disciple of Sanguine, Dibella, a shaman of the Forsworn, a member of the Marses forsworn tribe.”

“That’s… a hell of a resume,” Orthar said, “How can I tell if you’re telling me the truth?”

“I dunno,” I shrugged, “This is the easy stuff.  Oh yeah and I’m a vampire.  That’s why my eyes look like this.  Like Serana, I have special vampire eyes.”

 

“Alright,” Orthar said, “Take a vial of her blood.  We must be sure.”

A Thalmor soldier stepped up.

“Be careful.  I bite,” I laughed.

“Do it!” Orthar said.

The soldier cut me, pouring it into a bowl.

“What are you testing for?” I asked.

He poured a concoction in, and swirled it, and the blood wafted a coppery smell.

“Well, it seems you’re a dragonborn and vampire,” Orthar said, “Excellent.”

“So what do you want to do to me?”

“I see no harm in telling you, my little blood sack,” Orthar continued, “You may have noticed the weakening of the dimensional fabric.  Or perhaps not.  You are sort of a dullard, aren’t you?”

He slapped me on the cheek.

“Please.  I’m a mage.  At least talk to me like I know what you’re talking about, because I do,” I replied as I turned back.

“Alright.  All the monsters coming from different worlds.  In some small part, that is due to the death of the World Eater.  But it doesn’t stop there.  What has been done to the world by the death of a god will heal itself in time.  Some true geniuses on the High Council have been experimenting with time and dimensional manipulation.  Chief amongst them wants to turn it into a weapon.  Some think that this meddling will cause permanent damage to our world.”

“Why do you need my blood?  Skyrim is lousy with dragons.  Just take one of theirs,” I said.

“Well, first of all, I’ve been present for a dragon killing before.  When you kill them they fade into their spirit form to rejoin their brothers.  If you are present, some small part of their power gets absorbed into you.”

“I always wondered if those assholes got to go to dragon heaven if I killed them.  Guess so,” I said.

“But you,” Orthar said, “You have real blood we can take.  What’s more, how may dragon souls have you absorbed at this point?”

“A lot.  I use them to powerup my shouts.  I still have about 50 in reserve.  Haven’t been word wall hunting for a looong time,” I replied.

“There’s the crux.  We want to extract your stored power through your blood.  And use it to power our experiments.”

I sighed, “Is there any way I can contribute to your research without being dead at the end of this?”

“Possibly, if you play nice,” he replied, “In fact, one such experiment is ready to begin as we speak.”

 

He slashed my wrist with his knife, but it didn’t penetrate my skin.

“Uh oh,” I said, chuckling, “My skin is hard as iron.  Better get something better.”

He pulled out a thinner blade and made a production of sharpening it, then he sliced my wrist.  I winced and the blood flowed into a jar that he collected.  He walked over to an apparatus on the wall and placed it inside.  A mechanical whirring occurred, then he took out the jar as it had separated into parts.  Then he poured it into a much larger pipe system.

 

“We had all this installed just for you,” Orthar said, “Don’t you feel special?”

“I mean, I am.  But what does the pipe system do?” I asked.

“We studied the barrier for years and came up with this.  Want to know how we get so many troops across continents in so little time?”

“Mass teleportation?”

“Time dilation,” he replied, “It’s still in it’s infancy, and we were bumbling around with other power sources before now.  Call this your first test run.  There’s a device in this fort that slows down time when active.  Your blood is powering it right now.”

“What’s the… conversion ratio?”

He fiddled with some dials, “Going to start off at 1:30 ratio.  This’ll give us more time to have fun.  I don’t know if you noticed, but we already moved you once.”

“Dang, all these prisons look the same,” I said, “Hey, how the hell do you have like six prisons in Skyrim anyway?”

“That’s the thing.  We just do things, and people just let us.  Nobody wants to stop us.  They say they’re scared, and rightly so.  Mankind is a race of children without the time to grow up and figure out how to live their lives properly.”

“Here we go~”

“Elves just have so much longer, we know what we’re doing.  In truth, what you people have been saying isn’t true.  We don’t want to exterminate you.  We just think you need to be looked after, cared for.  Perhaps you can do a few tasks for us.”

“Like animals.”

“Not going to beat around the bush here.  Yes,” Orthar said, “We’re going to have so much fun, you and I.  How long do you think it’ll take them to find you in a secret underground prison?”

“I mean, there are so many, it might take a few days,” I chuckled.

“Yes, but what if every day they’re looking for you is thirty days down here of me extracting?” He started a low chuckle, which turned into a loud a raucous laugh of triumph.

 

So that was my day 2 of captivity.  A whole month of extraction and torture if I got out of line.  They kept me well fed so I could provide them blood, but my body ached from being chained up constantly.  Near the end of the third week, I found an opportunity.  Orthar was taking a breather from toying with me (to sleep, I assume) and two guards (one male, one female) were making their rounds.

 

"Hey, how dead to the world does this woman look?" The she-elf asked.

This woman?  Heh, they don't know who I am.

I intentionally kept a vacant look in my eyes.

"I bet if we paralyze her we could have some fun with her."

I rolled my eyes.  My greatest weakness.  Paralysis.  They gave me a paralytic poison, and when they let me down, I slumped to the ground, unable to do anything now.  It was agonizing knowing freedom was within my reach, but yet still so far.

"Hey what's this in her snatch?" The woman asked.

"Don't take it out!" The man exclaimed, "Orthar said it keeps her from killing us with magic."

"You know we could get in a lot of trouble for what we're doing," the woman said, "How are you gonna fuck her if she's full like that anyway?"

"Psh, you have no imagination," he replied, "She looks pretty slack-jawed."
He forced his dick in my mouth and thrusted for a little while.  

"What about her ass?" The woman asked.

Thanks.  You're going to be the first to die.

 

He threw me over a table and slid in behind me, and it was tight.  Even tighter because of the soulgem insert.

 

 

I let him do it... not as if I had a choice.  Then I got to thinking amongst the rhythmic pounding.  Vampiric Drain doesn't take magicka.  And I can perform spells without my hands.  I started to form an idea.  I could barely move my mouth, but I think I was smirking.  

 

I started to drain him through the plane of contact.  I think he was too distracted enjoying my ass to notice.  When he finally came, I smiled and found my power.  I nearly drained him to death while he was going, but it was the first time I'd tried that so it was imperfect.  But I got enough magicka to cure my paralysis with a no-hands spell, even with the constant drain.

"She's starting to twitch!  Put the chains back on her!" 

I sat up and used telekinesis to grab a rusty length of chain from beside me and wrapped it around the elf man's neck.  The woman took out her sword and slashed for me, but I used the man as a shield.  

"Oh gods!" She yelled as she stabbed him in the chest.  Then she yelled out, "Guards!  Alarm!"

I let go of his corpse, pulling the insert out of my vagina and throwing it across the room.  Through with vengeance, I started casting a teleport spell with the scant borrowed magicka I had.  

 

But it was not to be.  Orthar stepped in, immediately interrupting me with a paralysis spell.  His guards quickly wrapped me up and chained me how I had been before.
"You will never escape here," Orthar groggily said.

"Your guards are idiots.  You should train them bett~" one of them stuffed the rod into my mouth.

"Good.  I like her better that way," Orthar said, then he looked at the offending guards, "As for you..."

He stepped forward and put his hand on the woman's shoulder, then he ran his dagger slowly and casually into her abdomen.  

"Take out the trash," Orthar said.

 

So here I wait.