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Langwen took Darena by the hand and then they walked naked together from the baths and steam room to the Archmage's quarters. At this hour and with the information Darena had given her, Langwen interest was piqued. Nothing else matters, besides as worshipers of Dibella, being seen naked was absolutely not something to be ashamed of. Once inside the quarters, Langwen had made a beeline straight for the Archmage's work area with its various desks, scriptoriums, arcane enchanter and Alchemy laboratory. Darena too was pleased, she knew enough of her new bride to know when Langwen gets an idea into her head it doesn't get out. Seating herself in a comfortable, deep, leather throne-like armchair that an Archmage sat in, Langwen searched the drawers until she came by a perfectly preserved parchment; white as fresh milk; rolled up and thick, tied with a crimson silk ribbon. She began reading it, her arousal growing more and more as her heart rate accelerated. The scroll was very long and detailed, Langwen immediately thinking than entire cow...or more was killed and skinned to make it, the quality of craftsmanship exquisite even by Imperial standards. Written in black ink on white parchment, Langwen was astounded as she realized the truth about the late Arch-Mage Traven...using his considerable influence; first as head of the Anvil branch of the Mages Guild, and from 3E431 as Archmage; Traven had been watching Langwen and Darena since they were children, convinced by divine revelations that they were destined to become something great and influential. Anvil was a port city and was close enough to the border of Valenwood, that agents of the Mages Guild could be sent back and forth, Skingrad was even closer, but Darena lived in Dragon Bridge, in the north of Skyrim...yet somehow surveillance had been possible...then it hit Langwen that Dragon Bridge settlement was close to the Skyrim capital of Solitude and a bastion of Imperial wealth and influence. The Nords might not have liked it but they were in no positon to do anything about it if a mage of a Knight of the Lamp showed up on their doorstep and requested custody of a magically-talented and inclined son or daughter. The writing was very tiny but still flowing, cursive and calligraphic, but as she held the scroll out into the candlelight, Langwen saw the writing clearly without needing a reading lens/magnifying glass or squinting her eyes. They knew everything about her life including how in 3E427, the then 12 year old Langwen lied to her mother, Esgaldis, and went into the massive Ayleid ruin of Senalana, located a short walk west of her home town of Arenthia and entered the ruin, despite the well-known fact the local citizens avoided it like the Blight. It was rumored to be haunted by the spirits either or both the original Ayleid inhabitants and Imperial soldiers who died there 750 years ago or thereabouts looking for a powerful artifact. And cursed as well on top of that. Langwen didn't seem to care as she went in and took jewelry, necklaces and everything else she could find and get her hands on there. She made numerous trips and took a knapsack as she couldn't fit everything in one go but on her third trip there, she activated a needle-sharp, multiple spike trap which tore through her left hand, going through muscles, ligaments, blood vessels. The sharp copper-iron smell of blood triggered the magical Welkynd stone light of Senalana and awoke a powerful undead sorcerer called a Lich, which Langwen struggled to kill as she was bleeding all over. She succeeded just barely as a massive Nord man in heavy steel plate armour came in and made sure the horrid abomination was dead before grabbing the bleeding little Elfin girl and brining her to her mother, Esgaldis. She really was furious with rage and took it out on her daughter's ass with a flexible but painful wooden rod. Langwen's butt was crimson for months and later she learned the Nord's name: Snaddi Strom-Fist, a knight of the Order of the Lamp. Darena herself paced nude around the desk before finally making her way to beautifully ornate rolling desk and scriptorium to look for more evidence. There were faint whispers of the Order of Immaculate Chastity but nothing solid, as the order kept to themselves, was extremely secretive and not a lot of writing survived previous turbulent eras. "-Your nipples are already fully aroused and hard, beloved Langwen. I take it you are as surprised as I was...feeling both scared and turned on knowing that your entire life you have been watched over." Darena said as she found all the diaries Archmage Traven kept. "Darena, my love, you are no doubt smart enough to realize Nomen Nescio means "Name Unknown" in the Imperial tongue. Clearly, the author's failure to provide his...or her true name means that either he made all of this up or that he does not believe there is enough evidence to support his claims. We are talking millennia of wars, destruction, men and mer fighting for political influence...rather like vulture over what was then a carcass unworthy of the name Empire. Not a lot has survived from this period, you know. So the author might simply want to avoid embarrassment if this turns out to be a fruitless, no doubt dangerous chase." Langwen said as she continued reading the scroll, her mind working like perfectly smooth set of Dwemer interlocking gears, trying to discern the truth. Meanwhile, Darena seemed focused on a set of scrolls in the rolling desk, carefully unwrapping and reading them. "-Dibella brought us together, she watches over us as she did since we were born. I doubt this man, Nomen Nescio, would write a book full of lies...presuming of course it is man. Could a mer, woman or womer, even Orsimer for all we know. Besides, no one spends decades of research across all of Tamriel unless they believe they are on to something." Darena said as she gasped in awe, finally fining a shred of information she needed. Her hand immediately went to her heart as she felt her arousal grow, letting a loud moan of satisfaction. "-I believe...MOANS...I have found something. This mentions...AHHH...that Relyssa and Rhienne live in an isolated cabin, located in a clearing northwest of Bruma and that the diary of Nomen Nescio is available in the private collection of Countess Narina Carvain of Bruma and her steward, a Breton woman named Yvarra Channite. Still it doesn't provide a true location of the cabin, but it give us a place to start." Darena said as Langwen put down her scrolls and went over to her beloved. "-Well, then, let us get dressed and make our way to Bruma...or rather teleport to the Bruma Mages Guild and take up the quest from there." Langwen said as she Darena shared a passionate kiss. Once they have safely teleported to the Bruma chapter of the local Mages Guild, much to the surprise of the new mages there, the couple exchanged pleasantries and then made their way straight to Castle Bruma to see Countess Carvain, who seemed so genuinely pleased and surprised as she greeted Langwen and Darena warmly. In the castle dining room, Langwen explained to Her grace, the Countess, the reason for their visits and how Dibella Herself had brought them together as they feasted on succulent pork roasts. "-My dear Archmage and General, as much as I would love to help you in your always noble and honorable endeavours, there isn't much to go on about this Order of Immaculate Chastity. I can however get you started by giving you one of the journal that Nomen Nescio kept along with a copy of the book about. These devices...presuming they ever existed, seem impossible to build. My city has the best Nord and Imperial smiths, and they have assured me it cannot be done. Alas, this might be one secret lost to time. I can also tell you if you require, that Nomen Nescio's real name is Lagasha Gra Lagul, and she is an Orsimer." the Countess said matter-offactly as if this was the most normal thing in the world. Langwen tried to hide her astonishment but failed and Darena failed even more spectacularly, her food and wine spilling out of her mouth as she coughed and choked, thankfully the thick napkin keeping her robes from being stained. "-An Orsimer writing so beautifully and entailed, Your Grace? I find it rather unlikely, given the war-like nature of the Orcs." Darena said after she finally stopped coughing and sputtering as the Countess returned her prejudice right to her face. "-Some would say it is true of the Nords...Commander Darena, yet here you stand...a mage-knight sworn to protect the Mages Guild...and married to a female Wood Elf, no less. My congratulations to you both. the uneducated and ignorant would depict Nords and Orcs alike as mead swilling savages, but those who are educated and enlightened know better." she raised her goblet of wine and all the guests followed, Darena included, although she was blushing red with shame from the sting of the Countess's reply. "-Your wife Langwen has commenced full repairs and restorations at the local Ayleid ruin Rielle nearby. I for once cannot wait to see it restored to her true beauty...did you know that Rielle means "Beauty" in the Ayleid tongue, Darena? It is surprising to see how well the ancients knew how to build. the interior is already done and all that remains is the exterior. But please stay in my castle tonight. The roads are not safe." the Countess said, her brown eyes gleaming and letting the two lovers know it was an order not a suggestion.

Things began to move quickly after Langwen had said "Yes" to Darena's marriage proposal, breathing a sigh of relief as in doing so, she was spared having to propose to Darena herself. The alchemy between the two of them had been evident from the moment they were introduced to each other in the Archmage's office that day, which seems so long ago. Langwen had already arranged for Palonirya, the High Elf/Altmer owner of Divine Elegance shop to send over two of her best wedding dresses and gold earrings. The two lovers dressed each other and then put on their earrings and finally their wedding wreaths on their heads, made of the most beautiful white roses and mint leaves to signify purity and everlasting fidelity. But there was till the matter of where to hold the actual wedding itself and they finally agreed...in between kissing...to hold the wedding in the Mystic Archives of the Arcane university. Here they would be surrounded by close friends and books of knowledge, allowing for more intimate and close setting. As they dressed, Darena and Langwen walked hand in hand first teleporting themselves downstairs to the lobby of the Arch-Mage's Tower and then going outside and walking to the Mystic archives building. The Battle-Mages were out in full force and the University was still locked down...Mannimarco was dead, but still nobody was taking any chances. Langwen, since had lost her virginity to the priestesses of Dibella back in her home town of Arenthia in Valenwood, had wanted to wear her embroidered Archmage Robes but Darena had convinced her to wear a matching wedding dress instead. Deep beneath her serene and happy façade, Langwen's mind was telling her she was committing some sort of sacrilege but the brightly shining sun and flowers in full bloom were telling her that Goddess Dibella...and the other Divines...were pleased...and that was all that mattered. Langwen's jitters and nerves steadied as her Bosmer heart began beating normally, although the arousal was still there. Proving once again her gift of foresight, Langwen decided on wearing two layers of sanitary cotton pads and much to her soon-to-be-wife Darena had actually pulled rank to make Darena follow her lead. Neither of them were worried about menstruating, however Langwen wanted to make sure her arousal would not surface at an inopportune time...say right in the middle of the wedding. Making a wet mess would cause word to spread and reinforce negative stereotypes about Elves and their promiscuity. Once inside the Mystic Archives, Langwen felt overwhelmed by a flood of emotions and sensory information...feeling like had died and went to Aetherius itself. First there was the sight of her parents and Darena's parents, and then the sight of the Primate of Dibella herself, the highest ranking priestess of the Goddess of love, resplendent in her crimson silk, velvet, and cloth of gold embroidered robes. Langwen and Darena herself blushes almost as crimson as the primate's robes as their respective parents seemed to have barely had time to throw on their best clothes before they were transported/teleported to the Arcane University. Wedding custom dictated that since Darena was younger than Langwen...and still a virgin...she would be walked down the aisle to the altar by her father Herleif, who happened to be a retired Imperial Legion Officer and now a very prosperous inn-keeper...or ostler, as they were called in Skyrim. Langwen went to the altar and Darena took her father's hand as they walked down the burgundy carpet embroidered with cloth-of-gold stripes. As they walked very slowly, Herleif whispered in his daughter's ear: -Darena, not that your mother and I mind you choosing women over men...but must it be an Elf? Might I remind you Skyrim's...and all of Tamriel's current suffering is due to an Elf...Mankar Camoran, cursed be his name. And the desecration of the chapels and slaughter of Dibella's priestesses is due to an Ayleid Elf, King Umaril...a slave-master, they were called. I thought your bride was a Breton named Lieinne. And how the Empire left Skyrim to the Daedra, pulling troops out and leaving only boys and girls in armor to fight Dagon's elite troops, the Dremora Valkyn. They left your Skyrim Fatherland to bleed and suffer. Sovngarde itself shall hear our wails and woes for redress." Herleif asked, almost plaintively still refusing to believe this was actually happening, letting out a sigh of painful despair as his daughter struggled not to let her true Nord temper show. Nords were quick to anger and she felt herself bristle almost instantly at her father's insinuations. She turned to glance briefly at him, her brown eyes doing all the talking for her, letting him know that while she loved and honored him, as a Nord daughter...any daughter should, she was not OK with him questioning her marital decisions. She remembered history perfectly enough to know and understand that Nords have always been in conflict with all Elven-kind, not to mention all their neighbours. but her wedding day was not about discussing history. Darena sighed as she knew bitterly well that her people, the Nords, would not view this union with wishes of happiness. By Oblivion, she herself was a Nord and distrusted over her impressive magic skills, which were almost equal to those of any Elf. -Father, most honored and beloved, had it not been for my Langwen, you and mother, my brothers and sisters would be in chains taking orders from Umaril. You would like that a lot less. And Tamriel would've been merged to the Deadlands of Mehrunes Dagon and you'd be taking orders from a Dremora, or still be alive while your head was on a spike. You would like that even less than the first alternative." Darena said as she still smiled broadly, beaming with happiness. Little did she know that 30 feet way a young Wood elf was having the same talk with her father, Archanar, an equally prosperous and hard-working merchant. -My daughter, no doubt you are aware of the history between the Nords and Elves and...well, everybody else, actually. Must you go to the Nords for a wife? Is there no Bosmer maidens left in Tamriel? Must I remind you of how Skyrim...and the Empire as a whole pulled most of their forces out of Valenwood and left us with skeleton garrisons who couldn't even defend themselves, much less the populace. What they did was murder, plain and simple, they put boys and girls in armour against the Valkyn...Dagon's elite Dremora troops. They butchered them like cattle. Your Valenwood motherland still bleeds and calls out to the Heavens of Aetherius for redress." Archanar said, puffing out his chest and feeling smug for a moment. Langwen bristled and her mind flew to the old saying about politics being the business of men...shallow and barbaric, the whole lot of them. She had no intention to discuss this now and clenched her fists as she licked her lips trying to remain respectful and polite to her father. -If White-Gold Tower had fallen, Tamriel would've fallen with it. That includes Skyrim and Valenwood as well, if my geography is correct. And frankly, revered father, spending an eternity in the Deadlands is not something you want. Nor do you want to see mother and my sisters being subjected to the...attentions...of the Daedra. We all bled and suffered and a further reminder that Molag Bal and Mehrunes Dagon hate all races equally." Langwen said as she unclenched her shaking fists, her iron Imperial Legion/Blades discipline holding out. Finally, Darena arrived with her father at the altar and her father gave her to Langwen...with some reluctance, but pleased she was happy. The primate of Dibella spoke: -Honored guests, we are here until the loving gaze and protection of Dibella, blessed be Her name, to bear witness to the union of these two souls in eternal companionship. Matrimony is not something that should be entered into without careful consideration. Let us begin." she said turning first to the young Bosmer. -Do you, Langwen, take Darena to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, to love, honour, cherish, obey and protect, now and for all of eternity? -Yes, I do. Now and for all of eternity. Langwen answered without hesitation as she placed the ring on Darena's ring finger -Do you Darena, take Langwen to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, to love, honour, cherish, obey and protect, now and for all eternity? "-Yes, I do, now and for all eternity." Darena said as a small tear of happiness and joy fell down her cheek as she placed the ring on Langwen's finger. -If any man or mer finds just reason for why this couple should not be joined, let them speak now, honestly and forthrightly, or forever hold their peace." the primate said, allowing a minute or two for anyone to say anything. She concluded the ceremony...as Langwen and Darena both felt their hearts beating faster and faster, the heat building and their breaths slowly becoming pants. "-By the power vested in me by Dibella, blessed be Her name, I declare this couple to be wed. And what Dibella had joined together, let no man or mer dare take asunder. You may kiss" she said as Langwen and Darena already went and kissed one another, the guests applauding and cheering, Nordic and Elven whoops and cries filling the hall.

Before I begin my story of love, lesbianism, submission and chastity and I would like to give a deeply heartfelt thank you to UrbanSniper for his stories "The Order of Immaculate Chastity" and "The Female Legionnaire Quandary" which have served as an inspiration to me. And last but definitely not least I would like to thank Kofman77 for his mods Rosa Round Bottom and to Yui8020 for creating Freyane and again to Kofman77 for making Freyane available in game. I didn't get any chance to blog very much in the last week but I'm starting again now Again, a deep thank you to all modders and moderators here at Lover's Lab and The Nexus. So, without any further ado, let us begin, shall we?