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Kassandra Rikke, Legatus of the Ninth Legion and second in command to General Servius Tullius, Military-Governor of the province of Skyrim, was…discomfited as she sat in the main room of the Sleeping Giant Inn and ate, for several reasons.
Not least of which was the fact that Ralof of Riverwood, who was supposed to have been executed and had his head mounted on a spike, was sitting within arms reach of the High Queen of Skyrim, because as it turned out -and she was embarrassed to say it had been Elisif jarlskona that had picked up on it, not herself- that he was Gerdur's twin brother.
The fact that Gerdur trovärdig had sworn no violence would be permitted, and that Ralof had sworn he would never intend violence against the widow of any man, especially not one who had died honorably in battle -which was a very generous way of portraying what had happened when Ulfric Stormcloak had killed Torygg, for more than one perspective, if you asked Rikke- were the only things that kept him alive even now.
Well, that and the fact that Constantine Valerius has also made it clear that no violence would be permitted, regardless of who started it. There were far more significant things afoot, he claimed, than the issues of the civil war.
And that was another thing, she thought to herself as they finished eating and the tension ratcheted ever higher. What did he know, and how could he? Who was he? He wasn't just a merchant, anyone with eyes could tell that, and she had been watching him carefully since he had deftly managed to, with a single nearly off-hand comment, save some two-hundred lives, before leading and commanding soldiers that had never met him as if it was a matter of course.
"Lord Constantine, you promised to explain when we've finished eating. We all seem to be finished, and there isn't much to gain by avoiding the subject, so please. Explain." Elisif was the one that broke the silence, folding her hands in her lap as she looked steadily at the man that had helped save her life, and Constantine smiled briefly.
"Not a Lord of any sort, jarlskona. Just an old veteran from Skingrad turned backwoods merchant." he responded, and most of the table gave synchronized snorts of disbelief, which he ignored as he continued to speak once they were finished. "I can't tell you everything now, I need to confirm a few more things, and at any rate there are some things I will only want brought up at a Thing in Whiterun, which I'll need you to arrange, trovärdig." Gerdur arched an eyebrow at him, silently asking why she would do something like that, and he shrugged. "The dragon alone is a good reason, but…tell me, have any of you heard The Song of the Dragonborn?"
"Of course I am, every man and woman alive in Skyrim has heard a bard…" Rikke started to scoff, but he cut her off with a sharp hand gesture of negation, shaking his head.
"Not that one. The old one, the original. Either in dovahzul or Nordic or Common?" he pressed, and there was an exchange of glances and slowly shaken heads, which garnered a sigh. "I was afraid of that. There are lines missing from the modern version, you see. Entire stanzas, actually."
He cleared his throne and began to sing, his voice a rumble that seemed to vibrate through her very bones, and despite the situation and her own nature, Rikke couldn't help but blush faintly as something deep within her seemed to resonate with him. Not just the words, not just the vibration, but something that seemed to speak to a part of her soul.
"Ark fin Kel lost prodah, do ved viing ko fin krah,
Tol fod zeymah win kein meyz fundein!
Alduin, feyn do jun, kruziik vokun staadnau,
Voth aan bahlok wah diivon fin lein!"
The words shuddered through the air, like the ripples on a pond after a stone had been tossed in, washing across everyone present, and Rikke was absently pleased to see that everyone else was disconcerted as she was. Those words held power, held magic, in a way that she had never felt. And she had fought in the Great War. She had felt what the world felt like when true battlemages -not the sort of mages that slummed about with the bandits, or even served as the Court Wizards of the jarls, but mages with the sort of power that could unmake cities- dueled with one another, and though the impact of his words lacked the pure expression of power such spell-works had held, the potency and the depth was far greater.
"…what was that?" Elisif breathed, cheeks pinked and eyes oddly bright as she looked at Constantine, and he rubbed slightly at his throat for a moment before answering somewhat raspily.
"Dovazhul, dragon-speech, or dovahtinvaak, dragon-tongue. The language of your ancestors, jarlskona, taught to them by the dragons that ruled Atmora and Skyrim five-thousand years ago. The words allude to a prophecy, one I will share only at the Thing. Allow me to translate for you. 'And the Scrolls have foretold, of black wings in the cold, that when brothers wage war come unfurled. Alduin, Bane of Kings, ancient shadow unbound, with a hunger to swallow the world.'"
"No…no, that's not possible. You cannot mean to say that the dragon at Helgen was…" Ralof started, shaking his head in denial despite every syllable and micro-expression on the Imperial man's face seeping with solemn honesty, only for Constantine to interrupt him.
"…the dragon that attacked Helgen was Alduin the World-Eater, the Twilight God, supreme dragon-king of Atmora and Skyrim? Worshipped and feared by the Redguards as Satakal, by the Argonians as Atakota, the Khajiit as Alkhan, the Skaal as Thartaag?" he finished sardonically, giving him a crooked smile that didn't have much in the way of joy or enjoyment in it, before looking around the table. "Correct. Congratulations, my friends, you live in a time of prophecy. And unless we manage to put a stop to Al-Du-In, he will devour this world whole."
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Hours after my grand reveal, the only two people still in The Sleeping Giant (or, at least, the only two still awake) were myself and Rikke, neither of us remotely sober. For that matter, the Sleeping Giant had essentially been cleared out of people in general. Despite Elisif's protests, Rikke had put her foot down and informed Delphine and Orgnar that she was commandeering the inn to ensure the safety and comfort of the jarlskona. Oaths of hospitality or not from the trovärdig and her family, more than a few other Stormcloaks had escaped Helgen, including Ulfric himself, and she wasn't willing to risk Elisif's life in a smaller, less defensible structure than she absolutely had to.
The fire had burned low in the hearth, casting long shadows across the common room's rough-hewn walls, and I was painfully aware of the way Rikke was scrutinizing me as I stared into the dying flames. She had been suspicious nearly since Helgen itself, since I had appeared virtually from nowhere and managed to save several hundred lives by 'chance', only to display skills and talents no regular merchantman should be capable of.
"You knew, didn't you?" she said finally, her voice cutting through the comfortable silence that had settled between us once everyone else had retired to their various rooms and homes. "Before you ever set foot in Helgen, you knew what was coming."
My fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around my tankard, and when I turned to meet her gaze, I was sure that she could see something of the tired semi-guilt in my eyes.
"I didn't know everything," I admitted to the partial truth after a long pause, taking another deep drink of mead to fortify myself. The sweetness had long since faded from my palate, leaving only the burn. "Not exactly. But I knew enough."
Rikke leaned forward, her eyes narrowing hawk-sharp. Even half-drunk, she was one hell of a formidable woman, Nordic power wrapped in Imperial discipline. God, it only made her more beautiful, as inappropriate as that thought was right now, something that was helped along by the fact that we had both doffed our armor some time ago, leaving her in a loose cotton shirt and breeches that made it all too easy to admire her powerful, well-endowed form.
"That's not an answer, Constantine. Or whatever your real name is." she growled, and I barked a laugh that wasn't particularly amused.
"Constantine is as real a name as any other I've ever had, I promise you that. And you're right that it isn't an answer, or not a complete one at any rate. But the fact of the matter is, I can't tell you everything, nor will I." I informed her, and her glare darkened significantly. I held up my hand before she could say anything. "The finer details aren't really the most important, Legatus. How we are going to solve the problem is, which is why I told Gerdur to call for a Thing in Whiterun. As a neutral Hold, and the wealthiest, with Imperial and Stormcloak supporters both, they're in the best position to help begin planning and disseminating information."
"And you're not going to say another word on the matter until then, are you?" she snarled, rising to her feet and stalking towards me.
I remained seated as she approached, despite the way my instincts screamed for me to get myself out of such a vulnerable position as the one that I was currently in. Instead, I tilted my head back to maintain eye contact as she loomed over me, close enough that I could smell the mead on her breath mingling with something uniquely her own—leather and steel and the faintest hint of mountain air.
"That depends," I said quietly, setting my tankard aside with deliberate care, "on whether you're asking as Legatus Rikke of the Ninth Dragon Legion, or as the woman who's been watching me like she's trying to solve an interesting puzzle since the moment that we met."
Her breath caught almost imperceptibly, and for a moment the mask of Imperial discipline slipped enough to reveal something raw and uncertain beneath. Then her jaw tightened, and she placed one hand on the arm of my chair, leaning down until our faces nearly met, the warmth of our exhalations washing across each other's faces as we stared into each other's eyes from little more than a handful of inches distant.
"Both." she admitted, her voice a low, rough whisper. "I need to know who I'm dealing with. Not just for the Empire, but for myself."
I held her gaze, feeling the tension stretch between us like a bowstring drawn to its limit, wondering what would happen when it snapped. The alcohol in my blood made everything sharper somehow—the firelight dancing across her features, the scent of her, the way her proximity sent heat coursing through me that had nothing to do with the dying fire. I wanted her, badly, and not just because I hadn't had sex in quite a while, mostly due to lack of opportunity and time.
"I still can't tell you everything, I need you to be as surprised as everyone else is at the Thing. What I can tell you is that I was, at one point, in the Imperial Legion and that I have, over the course of my life, come across things that provided me with no small amount of insight for future events. Alduin's return was one of them, though I didn't know when, exactly, it would happen. Torygg's death was the final key required, and the prophecy made it inevitable." I said finally, tilting my head in acknowledgement of her harsh look at the implication that I could have warned the king even as I refuted the usefulness of trying. "So, I'm asking you to trust me when I say that my priority is absolutely the defense of Tamriel from anything that might destroy it, the defense of Nirn from the machinations of the Thalmor and, if at all possible, the annihilation of that entire wretched organization."
"Hmm. Good." she murmured after a moment's consideration, before quite abruptly leaning down and kissing me. I made a surprised sound into her mouth, the movement sufficient enough an opening for her to slip me some tongue, and the kiss deepened for a long moment, before she broke free.
"Not that I'm complaining, but what brought that on? Trying to buy information? Because you're better than that…" I started, only to fall silent as she put a finger to my lips.
"You're right, I am. But you saved a lot of lives, including mine, my general's, and my queen's. That alone would be enough to get you a bit of favor from me." she responded, pulling back enough to tug her shirt up and over her head, letting her unbound breasts bounce free, before quickly shucking her pants as well.
My breath caught as I took in the sight of her: skin that was once Nord-pale now richly tanned by a lifetime in the sun of the battlefield, littered by scars of varying size and severity, and containing subtle but powerful musculature that only seemed to enhance her beauty, her femininity, rather than subtract from it. Her sex was bare and beautiful, her breasts full and large. She was nothing short of magnificent, looking every inch like a warrior goddess, something that some part of my mind found funny given 'her' backstory in Odyssey.
"Rikke..." I began, but she silenced me again, this time by settling onto my lap, her weight warm and solid against me. I could feel the heat, and the dampness, of her sex rubbing against my rapidly-hardening length through my pants, far to thin as they were to block either sensation. What little desire I might have had to put some brakes on things, no matter how lightly, took a heavy hit at that.
"Don't think this makes us friends, lovers, or anything more than the most tentative of allies." she murmured, her hands moving to the laces of my shirt and undoing them with the easy deftness of the familiar. "I still don't trust you, and I still have questions that you will answer soon enough. But I'm grateful and I respect what you've done, and I want this. Do you?"
I looked up into her eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation or doubt, but found only steady desire and willingness there, heated and hungry. My hands found her waist almost of their own accord, feeling her lean strength beneath my hands and fingers, and she shifted a bit as that heat flickered warmer still.
"Yes, I do." I answered honestly, squeezing none-to-gently, grinding up into her slightly and eyeing her breasts with deep appreciation, and her lips parted slightly in a subvocal gasp or moan. I couldn't resist the pleased look that swept over my face as a result, and she gave me an almost amused look -though her eyes remained as intent as before- as I continued. "You're beautiful, obviously, and your talents in a fight and in leadership only make you more attractive as far as I'm concerned. If you're willing, I'll happily spend the rest of the night fucking you. So long as you don't try to seduce any information out of you. If you do, I'll have to punish you somehow."
Something flickered across her features at my words, though whether it was surprise, amusement, or approval I couldn't quite tell. Whatever it was, she didn't seem displeased enough to call things off, because she tugged on the collar of my shirt in silent command. I raised my arms obligingly, the simply garment quickly pulled over my head and tossed aside, and her eyes widened faintly at the expanse of muscle and scars that came into view as a result.
"You've got a lot of stories written into your skin, Constantine. Stories that make you quite a bit more interesting than you already were." she murmured, her fingers tracing along a particularly nasty scar that ran from my left collarbone down across my pectoral. "This one looks like it should have killed you."
"It nearly did, aye." I admitted, sucking in an aroused breath as her calloused fingertips explored the ragged tissue, the old wound somewhat more sensitive than the rest of me. Not to mention that having a woman like Rikke admire my scars was arousing in and of itself. "A dremora blade. Nasty business, jagged as it was. The infection almost did what the blade itself didn't."
"Dremora?" Rikke's eyes narrowed, her fingers still tracing the scar even as she visibly searched my expression for tells, her voice calm and intent rather than disbelieving or accusing. "The Oblivion Crisis was two hundred years ago. You don't look that old, and you certainly don't look that elvish."
I caught her hand with a grin, bringing it to my lips for a brief kiss before answering.
"There are still plenty of ways to encounter dremora without being a couple of hundred years old, you know? Conjurers, daedric artifacts, unpleasant little cults." I smiled against her palm, ignoring the way the half-rolled her eyes at the display of 'soft romance'. "But you're right that I don't look my age."
She studied my face more intently at that, the firelight casting half of it in shadow, and I gave her a beatific smile. "How old are you, then, hmm?"
"Old enough to know better." I murmured, sliding my hands up her sides to cup her breasts, thumbs brushing over her nipples, enjoying the way that her soft, weighty globes filled by hands. "Bold enough to do it anyway."
I was playing a dangerous game, I knew, especially with her already somewhat suspicious of me, but I couldn't help it. It was fun, for one thing, and for another there was a limit to how much prevarication I was going to throw around with someone I was about to have sex with. Besides, hopefully the pleasure would be distracting enough, and she would respect me enough, to wait to pry more answers from me until after the Thing in Whiterun.
Rikke's eyes darkened with both suspicion and desire as she arched into my touch, her breasts pushing themselves up towards my face, and I had to resist the urge to lavish some affection on the closest nipple. Her hips rolled against mine, the friction between us growing more insistent through the thin fabric of my pants, which were definitely stained by now, not that I was going to complain given the circumstances.
"You're deflecting," she said, the words as much an accusation as they were a statement of fact, though I was glad to hear that there was a heat born from something besides annoyance in her tone. "But I'll let it pass. For now."
She rose slightly, her hands moving to the laces of my pants, undoing them with deft experience, and I lifted my hips to help her as she tugged them down. My erection sprang free, and her eyes widened slightly before a small, appreciative smile curved her lips.
"At least one part of you seems honest enough, hmm?" she murmured, wrapping her strong fingers around my length and giving it a slow, exploratory stroke that made my breath catch. She hummed, smirking slightly at the sound, and repeated the gesture. "I'd compliment you, but I think it would go to your head, and I'd rather not boost your ego."
"I think my ego is doing just fine, given the fact that I have a woman like you naked and in my lap with your hand on my cock." I replied with a breathless chuckle, watching her hand move along my length with a certain degree of focus, hissing softly as she gently squeezed my shaft in response to my flirting. "Though I appreciate the restraint."
She laughed, warm and genuine, shaking her head slightly at my verbal sally. And then, without any further warning or commentary, she rose up on her knees, lined me up with her entrance, and seated herself on my cock from crown to base in a single movement. The sudden heat and tightness of her body enveloping mine drew a groan from deep in my chest, my fingers digging into her hips hard enough to leave marks, not that she seemed to mind in the least.
"Gods, that's good. That's very good." she breathed, her head falling back as she adjusted to the feeling of going from empty to -and I thought this with all due humility- really rather full. Her sex rippled around me, a warm, liquid massage that had me wanting more.
"Rikke…Nine!" I managed, my voice strained as I fought the urge to pick her up, put her on the rug, and rail her through the floor. "You feel incredible."
Her eyes flashed with satisfaction at my reaction, the instinctual, primal pride of knowing that your partner desired you and was enjoying their time with you. She began to move, rising and falling in a steady, firm rhythm that had both of us breathing harder within moments.
"And you," she said, voice hitching slightly as she sank down particularly deep, hands planted firmly on my chest as she rode me with the strength of her thighs alone. "are not -nnh!- entirely disappointing. Not that you deserve any credit for that, so I'll thank the gods instead."
I laughed at that, the sound turning into a groan as she clenched around me deliberately in response. I didn't know if Rikke would end up being mine in the long-term, though I had hoped she would even before we started having sex, but if this was what she was like during intimacy I definitely wanted her around more often.
"I'm going to take at least some credit for technique." I managed between increasingly ragged breaths, my hands sliding from her hips to grip the firm curve of her ass, helping to guide her movements as she rose and fell upon me, "but you can thank them anyway. I certainly will, given that they put you in my path."
I punctuated the words with a firm, open handed slap to her supple flesh, the sound rippling through the air as that wonderful globe shook somewhat beneath the impact. She made a sound that was half-laugh, half-moan, her nails digging into the muscle of my chest as she picked up the pace. The chair creaked ominously beneath us, but neither of us paid it any mind. There were far more important things to pay attention to at the moment after all.
"Flattery will get you —ah!— nowhere, Constantine." she gasped out after a moment, even as I thrust up to meet her downward motion, the collision sending pleasure spiking through both of us. "I'm not some tavern wench to be charmed by pretty words. And keep quiet, damnit! If you wake Elisif…"
"She's exhausted from everything that's happened, I could play a damn bugle in here and she likely wouldn't notice." I retorted, pinching one of her nipples between the knuckles of a thumb and forefinger before twisting sharply, tearing another delightful sound from her throat. "And you're right, you're not tavern wench. If you were, I probably wouldn't give you the time of day."
"Haa, haha. You expect me to believe that you wouldn't bend some big-breasted girl over a table and fuck her? What kind of soldier are you?" she huffed a stuttering laugh, teasing and genuinely disbelieving alike, and I responded in much the same way.
"Oh, I'd fuck one, but I'm not interested in keeping one around." I said, the implication unspoken but equally unsubtle, not that I gave her time to think about it or respond as I wrapped my arms around her and rose to my feet. She squealed none-to-softly in surprise and pleasure as she hastily threw her arms around my neck and locked her legs around my waist, our combined motions driving me into the very deepest part of her pussy and holding me there.
"Constantine!" she gasped, her voice caught between alarm and arousal as I carried her, still impaled on my length, toward the nearest wall. Her back hit the rough-hewn timber with a solid thud that drew another, louder gasp from her lips, this one unmistakably pleasured and, dare I say it, intrigued.
"You were saying something about keeping quiet, then making such a racket? For shame, Legatus." I murmured against her throat, nipping at the sensitive skin there as I began to thrust into her using the wall for leverage. Each stroke, much more powerful than I could have managed in our previous position, drove deep, the new angle allowing me to hit places inside her that had her biting her lip to stifle increasingly loud sounds with increasing desperation
"You bastard…" she hissed, though there was no real heat in the breathless words, only the fire of desire. Her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling sharply as she fought to maintain some semblance of control even as her body betrayed her with each tremor of of her muscles inside and out.
"Mmh, my parents were married, I'm afraid." I quipped, though the off-hand, teasing tone I would have managed in any other circumstances was thoroughly ruined by the fact that I was growing increasingly, and rapidly, closer to cumming. Close enough, in fact, that… "Rikke, where…?"
"Inside. You know we have spells for that." she cut me off, sounding almost hungry, knowing where I was going and answering the unfinished question. She was right, of course. Every legionnaire, male and female alike, of every race and age, regardless of magical aptitude, was taught the same anti-pregnancy spell. It could be cast silently, without hand gestures, incantations, or physical signs, specifically designed as it was to prevent…unwanted pregnancies from taking root due to…unpleasant circumstances. Of course, it was just as useful in a couple wanted a fun tumble as it was in any other situation, and I thrust heavier and harder in subconscious reaction to the invitation, demand even, for a creampie.
Her nails dug into my shoulders as her body tightened around me, a groan escaping her lips despite her efforts to remain quiet, on the cusp of cumming herself. My own control was rapidly fraying, each thrust bringing me closer to the edge as the heat of her enveloped me. The wall creaked against our combined weight and motion, but I was beyond caring about such mundane concerns. I tensed, knowing somehow that the next thrust would be the end of it, and Rikke noticed. She was smart enough, experienced, enough to know why, and she pulled my chest closer even as she angled her hips away, leaving me on the edge of falling out of her cunt.
"Do it, come on." she commanded, her voice a husky whisper against my ear, eager and demanding. "Fill me up, soldier."
That was all I needed, and with one final, harsh thrust, I buried myself to the hilt inside her and let go, cum surging out of me to pour into her, the sensation sending her own climax washing over her in waves that I could feel rippling through her entire body. Her teeth found my shoulder to muffle her cries, the sharp pain only making it feel better, and I resisted the urge to bite her throat and feed in response, settling instead for making sure that every last drop of pleasure was wrung from the both of us. I felt a thrum of magic pass through her, the silently-casted spell resonating through the place we were joined and leaving us tingling in a way altogether different from the sex-sparked nerves.
We remained pressed against the wall for long moments afterward, both breathing heavily as the aftershocks of our shared release gradually faded, the world coming back into existence around us ass the haze started to lift. Her legs remained locked around my waist, keeping me buried deep within her warmth as she slowly lifted her head from my shoulder, leaving behind the distinct impression of teeth marks that was already starting to bruise.
"Well," she said finally, her voice slightly hoarse even as she tiredly teased me. "that was... pleasant. Well done."
I couldn't help but laugh at her deliberate understatement, feeling her body still trembling slightly against mine. "Pleasant, was it? Just pleasant? I suppose I'll have to work harder to improve your opinion of me."
"Mmm, you might at that, though I wouldn't hold out much hope." she murmured, though there was a satisfied and intrigued gleam in her eyes that belied her dismissive words. A tap to my chest had me pulling back, slipping out of her with a soft splatter of mixed cum staining the wooden floor, and she stretched languidly. "Mmh. I needed that. Not the easiest thing, you know, finding a lay -good or bad- in my position, and there's only just so much you can do with your own two hands."
"Well, I certainly can't disagree with that, and I can imagine it isn't easy finding a lover that won't damage your reputation either." I agreed, accepting the subtle compliment for what it was and watching her slowly and unsteadily -a fact that sent another surge of pride through me- made her way towards her discarded loincloth, which she just as slowly pulled on, keeping my seed from escaping.
"Yeah…" she sighed, rubbing her stomach absently, before glancing at me with slightly narrowed eyes. "This was just between us, Constantine, and it probably will never happen again. You understand that, don't you? I have a war to help run, and whatever information that you have will take you your own direction. So don't get too attached."
"We'll both do our duty, I have no doubt about that, regardless of anything else." I responded calmly, not offended in the least, but neither did I agree with her. I wouldn't have wanted to lie, after all, because I had every intention of getting attached to some degree, and having her do the same. For a number of reasons, not least of which is we suited each other quite well, or so it seemed to me.
"Hmph." she grunted, seemingly noticing my non-confirmation, before visibly deciding not to make a fight of it. "Head home, Valerius. We've a long day ahead of us tomorrow, and you're no use to anyone too exhausted to stay on your horse or lift a sword. We'll talk about the barrow in the morning."
"Of course, Legatus, of course." I said the word solemnly, but there was a faint smirk on my lips, one that grew as I turned away. Just before I left, i glanced over my shoulder and met her eyes with what could only be called a taunting grin. "I understand you'd be too sore and too exhausted for the ride tomorrow if we continued, so I'll gracefully let you throw in the towel, shall I?"
"Why you little shit…" she started, but I was already out the door, chuckling softly to myself, and I didn't even try to resist the urge to whistle cheerfully under my breath as I crossed the few dozen feet between the inn and my own house. Things promised to get very interesting from here, especially when I revealed more at the Thing, and I had to wonder if Rikke would want another tumble before she headed back to Solitude.
God I hoped so, and for her sake as much as mine. Like we had discussed, it was kind of hard to get laid when your only options were your own soldiers or citizens who knew your face and name on sight, and as liberal in love as Tamriel was, no officer in Rikke's position needed someone spreading rumors about her bed habits.
Idly, I was glad that Elisif had slept through the whole thing, because Nine knew that if she had caught us, the Court at the Blue Palace would have gotten very awkward for the foreseeable future.
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Deep in their throes of pleasure, neither of the rutting pair had noticed that the door to Delphine's room was no longer tightly shut. Instead, it was ajar, and the widowed jarlskona of Solitude listened with crimson cheeks, wide eyes, wider pupils, and a soaked pussy as her savior and hero reduced one of the toughest women she had ever met into a gasping, moaning, whimpering mess of femininity.
She hadn't been entirely asleep when the amorous adventures had begun, her rest fitful for a myriad of reasons, ranging from the events of Helgen to the fact that Riverwood sounded and smelled so damn different from Solitude that it was almost uncomfortable. A series of quiet thumps and the sound of voices had briefly drawn her attention, her hand gliding towards the wickedly-sharp belt dagger that was the only weapon she carried these days, before she had recognized the voices as belonging to Rikke and Constantine.
Then they had grown louder, then she had hear a particular sort of sounds, and since then she had been listening to some of the most passionate, filthy, energetic sex she could ever have imagined. By the time they had made their way over to the wall, with Rikke pinned against it and being worked up and down a cock that Elisif could see (even with the poor view she had past the fire-pit) was far superior to her dead husband's, she hadn't been able to look away any longer. It was beautiful, intoxicating, watching and listening and smelling them together, and the desperate hunger that had filled her heart and barely-touched, aching sex had nearly overwhelmed her.
As Rikke had invited Constantine to cum inside of her, to fill her with his seed, it did overwhelm her, and one hand slipped between her thighs to bury its fingers in her sex as she ignored the shame she felt to watch and listen and smell and dream.
She didn't know how many times she fingered herself to completion, but hours later, when her cum-and-sweat-drenched body was finally wrung out to the point of exhaustion, she had just enough cognition left to contemplate that she needed a new husband to provide her with heirs, and Constantine would give her such beautiful babies…
[1] https://www.patreon.com/astandupphilosopher
[2] https://discord.gg/3VKjmXBYY8
[3] https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Fanfic/AndSoTheEagleConquered