“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this Skyrim weather,” Sorene said as she looked down on Windhelm. She promised Sorerica that they’d go their separate ways after she joined the Imperial army, but she couldn’t. (The Empire may have done me wrong, but I’ll not have my new home destroyed as well.)
She had been sending Sorerica information anonymously about the Stormcloaks’ actions. At first she didn’t know whether or not she was disregarding her messages, but with the movements of the Stormcloaks over the last few days, she could guess.
“Oh?” She saw a single Stormcloak come running towards Windhelm from the northwest, the direction a regiment of them went a week ago. A smile crept on her face hidden beneath her mask. “Good job Sorerica.”

 

Sorene went down the hill and met the soldier before he could get to the city gates. At first he smiled at her, but then after noticing something about her his attitude turned. “Be gone elf. I’ve got urgent news for the Jarl.”
(Ah! My ears. Racist Stormcloak scum…) “Oh?” Sorene narrowed her eyes and licked her lips. “Please, impart upon me your,” she stroked his chest and continued to move her hand downward. It was a feint, but she could feel her true nature coming out as she played with him. “…Knowledge. Mister big, strong, firm soldier. ©”

 

“I-I can’t,” the soldier said, trembling at her touch. “If word got out…”
“I can hold a secret.” Even though whatever she learned she would—if warranted—pass on to Sorerica, it was true that normally she could hold a secret. “In fact, I’ll keep a secret that you don’t want me specifically to know. Teehee ©! ”

 

“What’re you—”
“You want to fuck me.” She said before she could stop herself. Internally she screamed, (Stop! I don’t really want to do this!!)
It wasn’t up to her. The soldier’s face turned bright red and kept speaking gibberish as he tried to deny it. But urges never lie.Her blood told the Altmer exactly what to do, and as always there was nothing she could do to prevent it. Sorene pushed him down and let her true nature take over. It had been a while since she had a good fuck. Sadly, she wasn’t about to be satisfied with this soldier’s flimsy cock and terrible technique. Sure, she could have done more to achieve complete satisfaction for herself, but why bother when the bare minimum would satisfy her base desires and loosen the soldier’s lips.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After getting the information from him, Sorene glamoured him and made him think that he had just shot one off because of how much of a hard on he was getting from reporting to Ulfric. Messed up? Yes, but he was let off a lot easier than one of her best friends from the Summerset Isles. Anyway, according to the soldier his regiment was ambushed by Imperial troops at Korvanjund, an ancient Nordic ruin, in search of the Jagged Crown, a symbol that would help solidify the legitimacy and righteousness of Ulfric’s cause. Although his men initially found the crown, it was ultimately taken by the Imperials after they all but slaughtered the Stormcloak forces there.
(I just fucked a racist bigoted Nord to find out that Sorerica actually listened to and relayed my messages. Good going Sorene.) She felt dirty, not like it was new. She always felt dirty whenever she let her Succubus nature take over. She didn’t want to be controlled by her instincts, and no matter how good it may feel, fucking someone without love always made her feel like less of a person. Out of anger she punched the soldier and cursed her luck as she was forced to glamour him again.
With that behind her Sorene was about to set off to do more reconnaissance when her stomach suddenly tightened and a chill went up her spine bringing her to her knees. “Telind…” she whispered.
She had told Sorerica before, but when Telind proposed the idea of the two of them spending the rest of their lives together, Sorene had decided to use a bit of her Succubus magic to bind their souls together so that they would never be or feel truly apart. Almost five days had passed since she had last felt his presence. Something like this had happened before, but only momentarily. She thought he may have died then, but when she could feel him again, she knew that couldn’t possibly have been the case; but now there was nothingness only a hole that was growing ever larger with the passing of the days.

 

She was almost able to pinpoint where he was when his presence faded last time, but was unable to because of how suddenly it returned. This time she knew, and if she wasn’t so preoccupied with trying to aid Sorerica and the Imperials in this idiotic Civil War, she would have immediately rushed to her beloved. “Whiterun…” Sorene said as she looked towards the southwest.
Everything became clear to her as she spoke those words. She could see her target—an arrogant Redguard woman with long dark hair, a mage—and what she had to do. Like a being possessed, she darted off toward a little known cave in the Whiterun Hold. Something seemed otherworldly about the whole affair and she would soon put an end to it, and the one that ended her beloved’s life.

 

 

“Good work Auxiliary,” General Tullius said as he took the crown from her. “I don’t know where you’ve been getting this information from, but it certainly has been an aid to our cause and hopefully will continue to be.”
Sorerica saluted. “I just hope it’s all worth it in the end,” she said remembering the fierce battle that took place in Korvanjund. Although ultimately a one-sided affair, their side was not without losses. Each mission she was sent on made Sorerica’s heart ache as she fought kinsmen over the egotistical ideals of that madman Ulfric. But it couldn’t be helped. Sorerica knew that, but it didn’t lessen the pain.
Tullius frowned. “Even if the retrieval of this crown was all for naught, it was still a heavy blow for Ulfric’s forces both in numbers and morale.” He looked her over with narrowed eyes. “And I will not have you questioning me, my orders, or those given to you again. Do I make myself clear?”

 

She hated this, ultimate loyalty to an authority that would ultimately not even blink if and when she dies. It’s why she wasn’t exactly in stitches when she was kicked out of the Stormcloaks. Such a rigid power structure with no say of her own in it was beyond unpleasant, but it was the only way she could fight to protect the land that she loved.
“Ol hi hind, Zoh,” she said with a sigh. The general’s brow furrowed again as if he had heard her speak gibberish. (SHIIIIIIIT!) She hadn’t exactly let it be a widely spread known fact that she was Dragonborn, and Sorene was the only living person who Sorerica had imparted this knowledge upon. “I-I mean, as you wish, Sir,” she said trying to immediately cover her mistake.
“Right…” Tullius said, bored with her nonsense already. “Now then, I have another mission for you—”

 

“Sir, if I may,” Sorerica interjected.

 

“What is it now Auxiliary?”

 

“Now, I understand that there is a war going on and all, but ever since I joined up with the Legion, it has been skirmish after skirmish. Never-ending battles where I’ve been on the vanguard.” She stuck out her chest with pride. “And honored as I am to return from these battles where others have not, I am but of Men. I tire. I ache. And I respectfully request that I am permitted a short leave of absence to relax myself from battles past so I can recover for the ones to come.”
The general gave off a laugh so sudden and out of place that it caused Sorerica to take a step back. “What’s this Auxilary? The one known throughout both sides only as Slayer, the undying Nord strong as a troll, deadly as a sabercat, is asking for time off?”

 

“I wouldn’t be, if I hadn’t spent the last month and a half constantly on the frontlines. Shor’s bones, even some of my comrades were surprised that this was my sixth straight battle mission when they had gotten a rest after just two.” She hadn’t meant for it to come off as whiny, but the truth was the truth. Her body ached, and she’s the only one she knew that was on constant battle duty. It was only by the grace of the Divine’s that she had made it thus far.
“More like a kitten,” Tullius said with a laugh. He closed his eyes and the Nord could tell he was mulling it over. “One hour,” he finally said. “I want you to meet me back here in one hour. I will tell you my decision then. Understood?”

 

“Sir! Yes Sir!” Sorerica saluted, then turned on her heels and walked away and out of Castle Dour.

 

The courtyard always brought a smile to Sorerica as she would be able to gaze upon her fellow and future comrades’ training exercises. As one who had always just picked up what she could here and there, Sorerica was a bit envious of their formal training and would oftentimes just come here and sit for hours to watch them train. Her smiles would widen when someone among the trainees would recognize her and put in extra effort to try and impress, but she couldn’t be mad at the poor sods’ eagerness.

 

But today with the rain and its emptiness, the courtyard made her tire and Sorerica trudged along slowly, giving a nod at her fellow soldiers that she passed. She was in a bad way. Sore, tired, stiff, and in need for a long hot bath Sorerica slowly lumbered down the hill toward her house as carefully as she could as not to slip on the wet rocks until she thought she heard someone call out her name…

 

 

 

 

 

“My Thane!” …Or rather her title. She whipped around and was almost tackled by an eager Nord that was brimming from ear to ear at her presence. “Honored to see you, my Thane.” She said immediately doing her formal pleasantries.

 

Sorerica was sure her housecarl was going to want full details on where she’d been, how the war was going, and if she were alright, but all she could muster right now was a smile before she passed out.

 

When Sorerica awoke, she looked outside and saw that it was about dusk outside and immediately sat up, yelping in pain as she did. Suddenly her housecarl came into the room and frowned at her. “My Thane, please, you need your rest.”

 

 

 

“I screwed up Jordis,” Sorerica said almost in tears as she followed her housecarl’s instructions. “I-I was supposed to meet up with General Tullius a little less than an hour after I saw you. But I… I—”

“I’ve been given your next assignment,” Jordis said with a grin. When Sorerica opened her mouth to respond, Jordis simply held up her hand and said, “Due to your inability to punctually arrive at scheduled times, the General could not grant your request for leave.”

“Gods... damn my weakness…”

 

“There, there, my Thane. This should be good news! Great even!”

 

Sorerica cocked an eyebrow. “In what way? I need time off to rest!” She shouted. “I’m in no condition to go off to battle again! That idiot general is going to run me—”

 

“Whoever said you were heading out into another battle, my Thane?” Jordis said, still smiling devilishly at her fellow Nord. “Now will you let me tell you what your next assignment is?” Sorerica solemnly nodded. “Ehehehe,” Jordis laughed barely able to contain her enthusiasm. “Auxiliary Sorerica the Slayer,” she said trying her best to mimic General Tullius’s tone. “Your next mission is as follows: Deliver this note to the Jarl of Whiterun, and make sure he and only he receives it. Carry out any additional tasks that may occur after the Jarl gets the note as you see fit. Once you have completed this task, stay in the Whiterun hold until you receive your next assignment by courier.” By the time she finished talking, Jordis’s eyes were brimming with happiness. “Don’t you see what this means?”
“Well…” Sorerica said scratching her head. “I guess I don’t have to go to another battle?”

 

“Yes, my Thane. But you’re not getting the bigger picture!”

 

“Which is?” Honestly Sorerica couldn’t keep up. Perhaps it was her grogginess, or the throbbing headache she had from hitting the street earlier, but none of this news actually screamed great news to her.

 

“You get to see Lady Sorene again!”
“What? How does that mean…” It was then that Sorerica put two and two together. Before she last left, she instructed her housecarl to locate Sorene’s whereabouts and report any findings to her. Apparently she had succeeded. “Ofaal tir do het…” Sorerica let slip in dovahzul. “You found her?” The excited Nord nodded and finally Sorerica was just as jubilant as she was. “Then let us depart!” She said wincing slightly as she sat up again. “I’ve got to pack! There’s no time to—”
“Calm down, my Thane,” Jordis said sweetly as she gently pushed Sorerica back into bed. “It is almost night time and Lady Sorene has not even arrived in the Hold yet. Gather your strength and let us leave in the morning, my Thane. A warm meal and a good night’s rest will do wonders for you.”
“That and a long warm—”

 

“Already taken care of.” Sorerica arched an eyebrow then suddenly noticed that she wasn’t wearing her soldier’s garb from earlier anymore. She looked down and her face reddened as she saw that she was instead in some nightwear that she had told her housecarl specifically not to purchase for her. Hurriedly she looked toward Jordis who had turned away. “I was only doing my duties as housecarl,” she said and nothing more as she walked out of the room and returned moments later with a hot bowl of venison stew. She then gently placed it before her thane and without so much as making eye contact left before Sorerica could recover from the shock.

 

 

 

Sorerica dug into the meal and after four or five spoonful stopped. She felt warm from the meal. Not the normal warmth she felt when eating a hot meal, but something else. Something she hadn’t felt since she and Sorene had been traveling together. As she took another spoonful she blushed again and cursed herself. (I do not have any interests in women! Be it Sorene or Jordis.) She took another spoonful and that warmth overpowered her again. (But a woman can dream…)

 

 

 

Rah! Fund nust ofaal daarz nalkun?

 

Niyleen sighed. Nega had been active again since she’d awakened and she also had been speaking in some foreign tongue. Considering what the Halfling had found out, she assumed that it was the language of the dragons, but was unsure. After all, even if Nega would answer her—which she wouldn’t-she’d answer in that language—which Niyleen didn’t understand.
Having just explained everything again to Carciel and Nyleine for the umpteenth time, Niyleen sighed again. She hadn’t told them about the cycles or any of their past circumstances, but she felt she was still able to give them a detailed overview of what she’d learned. It may have taken over two days, but by the look on her sister and Carciel’s faces she finally believed that they had caught up. “So… do you get it now?”
Carciel nodded. “History has shown that when the Daedric Princes act, it isn’t usually just one. I believe in the upcoming days we are going to see even more of these unholy beings and we should prepare ourselves accordingly.”

 

Niyleen nodded in agreement. “Sis, what about you? Your thoughts?”
It took her a moment to say anything, but when she did Nyleine frowned. “I understand what you’re saying, but it was all just a dream Big Sis. Sure, Telind was a follower of Boethiah and sure Boethiah herself intervened, but I don’t believe that that coupled with your dream mean that we’ve become wrapped up in some larger than life scheme that the Daedric Princes have plotted. More or less, we are just ordinary people, not even registering on their senses.” She looked at her sister and gave a half smile. “Besides, the two of us will be just fine.”
Carciel rose, her face stiffened. “You think it would be better to wait here unprepared? To be attacked unawares? My sister said the Daedric Princes want the Dragonborn and her.” She pointed at Niyleen emphatically. “This isn’t a game of house anymore Nyleine. Grow up! There are things bigger than you going on.”
This time Nyleine rose, the anger on her face apparent. “Your sister said this? The same sister that died?”

 

“How did you—”

 

“I told her,” Niyleen admitted, feeling slightly ashamed now that her sister had used the information against the Breton. “We were sharing about our pasts. I didn’t think it would do any harm.”

 

Carciel looked pained, but understood. “Yes.” She glared at the necromancer. “The same one your sister killed.”

 

Niyleen felt an aching in her chest as her sister and the Breton stared off and engaged in a heated verbal exchange. (This isn’t right.) She brought a knee to her chest and looked away from the two of them. (Nothing is going right. I thought my sister would be on board and we’d figure out some way to go about defeating the Daedric Princes, but with her thinking they’re not even a threat…)

“You idiotic Redguard bitch,” Carciel said, making Niyleen focus on their argument again. “What don’t you understand? Your sister is in danger. They don’t know that we know this. We have the upper hand! Why can’t you put it together that we have to act now if we’re going to do anything about it?”

 

“Please,” Nyleine said with a snort. “You just want any excuse to stay near my sister. I can’t believe that my sister simply was gathering a harem while I was out in the world honing my craft so that I could finally be reunited with her. Ah, luck of the firstborn I guess?”

 

“A hare-I want to-w-what!?” Carciel looked at Niyleen and reddened. “I-I-I have no such f-feelings towards your sister! I wanted her dead not too long ago r-remember?”

 

“They say that the best lovers start off as enemies, and the way you were fretting over her…” Nyleine said narrowing her eyes. “That was not how a simple friend would react.” Carciel tried to speak, but her words wouldn’t come out. Flustered, she gave Nyleine a fierce look before exiting the lair. As soon as the entrance closed behind her Nyleine burst into laughter. “I can’t believe the stupid girl really loved you! Didn’t she know? So, stupid. Believing things in dreams can come—”

 

Niyleen pushed her sister to the ground hard and stood over her. Her little sister looked at her with eyes filled with surprise and concern. Before she could react Niyleen said, “STAY HERE! I’m going… I’m going out on an assignment.” She turned and walked away from her sister.

 

“B-Big Sis! Wait—”

 

“I think it’s best if the three of us cool our heads for the time being,” Niyleen said her back still facing her sister. “A bit of space would all of us well at the moment.” And before her sister could get in a word edgewise Niyleen was up the ladder and out of the lair.
(Dammit it all to Oblivion!) Niyleen wanted to scream, to shout, but then what? She needed to get Carciel and Nyleine on the same page but her and her sister’s actions were taking her further and further from that goal. Kicking the dirt, the Halfling walked toward the Southern Watchtower. She could feel the rain cooling her down and lowering her heartbeat until she saw something in the corner of her eye. Turning weapon drawn, Niyleen was ready to cut the creature down, until she noticed its pale skin and the outfit it was wearing. “Carciel?”

 

“Yeah?” The Breton said her voice almost a whisper.

 

 

 

 

Niyleen sheathed her sword. She couldn’t look the Breton in the eyes after what Nyleine had done. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened back there.” She meant that, but didn’t know whether or not Carciel would believe her considering that her sister was at the root of it all. “My sister… she just… I mean—”

 

Carciel shook her head. Her pained green eyes looked into Niyleen’s. “Your sister was right. I do love you Niyleen.”

 

The Halfling blinked. This was news to her. There hadn’t been any signs, well none that she could have made out anyway. “W-where is this coming from anyway? DIdn’t you want to kill me not too long ago? I thought I was still on your shit list.”

 

The Breton sighed. “I began to have feelings for you when I finally realized and accepted that you didn’t mean to kill my sister.” Her words were soft and almost drowned out by the rain, but Niyleen made sure to catch each one. “It would have pained me to say this, but I know that if you could do it all over again, you would have rather died than have killed Eolri.” She paused. “If… If I had to be specific, it started in Markarth after that fight where you saved my life, and in developed further when you were trying to protect Lucari from your past..” Carciel swallowed hard. “I could see the honesty in all that you were and it was just so… appealing. I would have never acted on it though, probably would have never brought it up. I especially wouldn’t now, not when Lucari doesn’t even have a fair chance to further capture your heart. Heh,” Carciel smirked. “You and Lucari were a good match if you would ever accept her feelings. Anyone could see it. Besides,” she said with a sad smile. “I didn’t want to ruin Lucari’s happiness or the blossoming friendship I was forming with you both.”

 

“We’re friends?!” Niyleen cursed herself when she saw the pain in Carciel’s eyes when the words escaped her mouth. “I… I didn’t mean… I just thought we were strictly comrades. Sure I wanted to be your friend but I never imagined you wanting to be mine… Not after…”

 

“It’s alright.” Carciel smiled, but Niyleen knew that smile. She was hurting, Nyleine had laid the foundation, and Niyleen had hammered it in. “You don’t have to force it. Besides,” she laughed. “Me? With a woman? Gods… Eoly would rip me a new one if she found out…”

 

Niyleen frowned. (We both know that’s not true. You know me and Eolri were an item.) She wanted to take Carciel’s hand in hers, tell her all the words she needed to hear, but her body wouldn’t respond. Wait, her body really wouldn’t respond! Struggling her hardest to move, fear coursed through Niyleen’s bones when she saw the magic pouring from in Carciel’s palms into her body.

 

“I don’t need your charity. Soft, kind words? A gentle, caring platonic, although sensual touch? I don’t want them! Not now. Especially not from someone whose heart belongs to another!” Carciel released Niyleen, watching the Halfing drop to her knees panting profusely. “This whole thing was a waste. I wish my sister would have rather continued the Hunt for all of this…”

 

“It wasn’t a waste,” Niyleen said in between breaths. “If you… hadn’t come, I-I would be dead. I owe you… my life Ciel. So please… don’t go.” Carciel didn’t say a word, and simply watched as the Halfing got to her feet, making no move to assist her. “We need—I need you with me now.” Niyleen said knowing that there were a million ways that could be interpreted, but not caring. “Whether or not you see yourself as a replacement for Lucari, I need you. I need Carciel Syliel, the deadliest…” Niyleen gave her a soft smile. “…and most caring Breton I’ve ever met, around to stay by my side.”

 

 

Suddenly Carciel went up to Niyleen wrapped her arms around her and the Breton touched her lips to the Halflings. The kiss, although onesided, was deep, passionate, and over before Niyleen could wrap her head around it, leaving Niyleen shocked and without her breath… and longing.

 

Carciel turned from the Halfling and said, “I won’t be anyone’s replacement. But,” she looked back with a half-smile. “I won’t mind staying around for a while.” The Breton then walked off toward Whiterun leaving the Halfling speechless.

 

Fucking finally. Nega said, there was a hint of laughter in her voice.

 

Niyleen’s knees gave out and she touched her lips. That softness, that warmth, she wanted more needed more. Her heart was pounding, and slowly she could feel herself becoming lost in what was and what could have been. (Me and Carciel?) She could feel herself getting hot when the image of a certain smiling blonde haired Nord came into her head. “Lucari…” As much as she had been through, as much as she had wanted her to be safe, Niyleen had forgotten all about Lucari in her recent happiness, and now lust. Niyleen slammed her fists to the ground. She felt sick, yet again she had betrayed the one person who always had complete trust in her from the first moment they laid eyes on each other. Even though they weren’t exactly a couple, this betrayal ran truer than any she had done in the past to friend and foe alike. Not only had she betrayed Lucari romantically, when she found out Lucari had gone missing finding her was the furthest thing from her mind.

 

“Gods… what have I… what have I done!”

 

 

 

 

Hyahaahaahahahaa! Romance? Really? Nega mocked again in the common language. Here I thought a world ending threat would have more precedence than your fickle flights of fancy in regards to love. By the Gods, the ‘Fourth’ is so idiotic. Hahahahahaahahaaaa!

 

Niyleen stood up and closed her eyes.

What? Are you going to cry? Need a—

 

Niyleen closed out everything, focusing her thoughts on only one thing. (Lucari…) Focusing her entire being on the image of the Nord woman, Niyleen gathered a swirling blue magic in her left hand, held it out in front of her and… nothing.

 

This is rich! Nega prodded, breaking Niyleen’s concentration. You think you’re some kind of avant-garde mage? You idiot! You can’t even cast Novice spells and you’re trying to tweak—

 

Niyleen focused harder, harder! There was only one thing that mattered, only one person that she needed to find, and she wasn’t about to let the First distract her any longer. Soon, the sounds of nature disappeared. (Harder, harder!) Then everything began to blend around her. (More, come on MORE!) Everything went blurry and was accompanied by the music of her heart beating. Lucari came more and more into view. She wasn’t the same Nord that she’d last seen, she was a vampire, chained, being turned into a subservient monster that would do her every beck and call.

 

 

 

 

She let the magic in her hand go forth once more and a path was laid out before her. Not waiting to celebrate, Niyleen dashed off in search of Lucari. (I’m coming Lucari. May the dawn keep you…)