Adventures in the Rim: Athene

Chapter 1: The Hills Have Eyes

Athene was full of grief. Although she hadn't been a member of the Companions for more than about a year, she had come to greatly admire Kodlak, the leader of said group. And now he was dead. She peered over at Vilkas from atop her horse. His face was a bunched jumble of hatred as he urged his horse on faster. She wasn't sure the horses could take much more of this abuse; they had been riding nearly non-stop for two days toward the main hideout of the Silver Hands.

Athene had been all over Skyrim; completed training at the College in Solitude and become a bonafied bard. She was the leader of the Thieves Guild down in Riften (although, admittedly, the group proved to be more trouble than not); she was a mage in training in Winterhold, and, although she wasn't sure how to feel about it, had come to learn that she was Dragonborne.

She focused on the path ahead. The last few nights had been a blur. Where had Mercurio gone? She wasn't sure. She had participated in the Blood Ritual and blacked out, awakening as a fearsome werewolf with guards surrounding her, and Mercurio loyally protecting her. Her mind had been fuzzy from the ritual, and she in her monstrous stupor had attempted an escape, to figure out what had happened. She assumed Mercurio would have followed, but she blacked out again shortly after, and Mercurio was gone.

She'd gone to the jail in Whiterun and searched for him; searched the Hall of the Dead for his corpse, and had been happy that he was in neither. But that still didn't tell her where he had gone. She decided, as soon as she and Vilkas were done re-gathering the Fragments of Whuunthrad for Kodlak's funeral, she would travel to Riften to see if he'd gone home.

Right now, though, more pressing matters urged her forward. Vilkas was a quiet fire, brimming with white hot rage. She had known Vilkas to be a blunt, sometimes crude, but often humorous Nord and had grown to like him. Now, she felt sorrow for him, for he had lost his leader. Kodlak had been good to all the Companions, and while it had taken Athene quite some time to gain the members' trust, he had been good to her as well.

Vilkas started to slow, throwing Athene out of her ruminations. Ahead was the hideout of the Silver Hands. She squinted. She had been here before.

With a pang in her chest she remembered that night. That had been the night she lost Lydia.

"Let's double back a ways and tether the horses." Vilkas murmured, yanking the reigns to his giant thoroughbred. "And make sure that dog stays quiet." He ordered, motioning to Barbos, the Daedric dog Athene had been encumbered with.

She silenced the mutt with a finger and followed Vilkas. The dog was a great help most times, being gifted with immortality by his dark Prince Master, but more often than not he was also a great pain in the ass.

They tethered their horses and quietly unsheathed their weapons, creeping silently toward the hideout entrance. Athene had recently been inducted into the Dark Brotherhood after accidentally robbing them of a high dollar contract. Between her membership with them and leading the Thieves Guild, her skills in sneaking were unmatched.

Vilkas once more shushed both Athene and the dog, and they ventured quietly inside. The start was not encouraging as they happened upon a group of SilverHands preparing their evening meal. Athene snuck as close to them as they could before unleashing a mighty Thu'um, encasing at least three of them in a blanket of flames; she swung her sword swiftly at the flaming men as they charged her, enraged and full of adrenaline despite being cooked alive. Vilkas let out a furious cry, no longer holding out for a pretense of stealth, and hacked one of the SilverHands straight through the neck. The man grabbed his wound, gurgled pitifully, and fell to the floor. Barbos was a blur of teeth and fur as he helped discharge the remaining members of the werewolf-haters, and the trio continued on through the damp and solemn hide-out.

It was a cave of immense proportions, full of dank and twisting turns and crevasses. Athene kept her thoughts at bay as she crept through the familiar tunnels. She and Lydia, her prior house Carl, anointed to her by the Jarl of Whiterun, had ventured upon this hide-out a couple of years prior. It had been inhabited by some Forsworn, then, and they had been badly out-numbered. While the women had ultimately conquered and removed the heathens, Lydia had succumbed to her wounds and died quickly in the hide-out. Athene had carefully wrapped Lydia's body in the best pelt she could find, and carried her all the way back to Whiterun for a proper burial. Lydia had been a good and faithful woman to Athene their entire relationship, and while they were never romantic, Athene had felt a deep and perpetual connection between them. Her loss had been devastating.

She knew, then, how Vilkas felt as they trudged through the halls of the weeping cave. The Companions had lost much to these monsters, the SilverHands. Tonight, Athene and Vilkas would end the suffering, and bring the fools to their knees. She felt a renewed sense of energy then, and forged ahead with a much quicker pace. Vilkas clung to the crackling energy and strengthened it, imbibed with a profound sense of duty.

Athene crept down a small crevasse in the wall, guiding the hulking man through obstacles he would not have thought to try, and pointed below them quietly. There were a dozen or so SilverHands milling about in a massive opening of the cave. Cages were lined against the wall, some holding Pit Wolves, the pitiful beasts that were often trained simply to live and die fighting; and some holding Werewolves, or their dismembered remains. A lump formed in Athene's throat. She, too, was a werewolf, inflicted with an un-wanted curse, but she knew that beneath the fur of the dead, there was a real human with ebbing and flowing human emotions of every magnitude. These SilverHands would surely die tonight, she thought solidly.

In hushed tones she commanded Vilkas to begin a descent to the left, and she would begin toward the right. If they could ready their bows and take out a couple before the bastards realized they were being attacked, all the better. She equipped her bow, an enchanted piece of ebony art with fiery arrows, and steadied it. Athene glanced toward Vilkas to ensure he was at his appointed spot, and saw him readying his quiver as well. He glanced at her and she nodded curtly.

We have to make this count. She thought, and narrowed in on a pair of SilverHands standing before a cage. Athene drew back the arrow as far as she could muster, exhaled slowly, and released. The arrow shot true, criss-crossing with Vilkas' as both projectiles hit their marks square in the skulls. Athene's burst in to flames, thoroughly and instantly killing her first victim. The entire clan of SilverHands was at the ready, weapons drawn, shouting orders to each other, but unaware of exactly where their attackers were.

The warriors managed one more shot each, each arrow hitting a target, although not fatally, before they jumped down from their perches and ambushed the frenzied bandits. Vilkas leapt and managed to slice a SilverHand straight across the throat before spinning around and bashing another off of him with his steel shield. Athene readied her hand with a fire spell and began spitting blazing hot flames across any soul that shadowed her path. She stabbed a SilverHand straight through the chest, using her boot to extract her ebony blade from his cavity. A SilverHand got the drop on her as she did so, and slashed her straight across the back. Athene hissed and spun around, severing the man's head clean off his neck, then Shouted for good measure at the other's that were following him. They screamed as they were engulfed in flames and Vilkas ran through slashing and hacking the fiery specters. There were less than a handful of the monsters left, and Athene ran toward them, blasting them again with fire, her favorite destruction spell. Vilkas managed to take out two of them while Athene lunged upon one and gave him a beautiful three strike death with her glinting sword. The last man fell to his knees, pleading for mercy, but Athene wanted none of it. In true assassin form, she stood before the whimpering coward.

"Your sins are many. You will pay for you and your brothers' and sisters' wrong-doings." And she sent his skull scattering across the floor, his blood splattering like a twisted carousel. She looked to Vilkas. "Where is Barbos?"

As if by way of answer, Barbos barked, the noise echoing across the roomy chamber. The two warriors ran toward a fenced off area and looked down into a lower pit. The Daedric dog was below, fighting off the leader of the SilverHands. Athene jumped down and sprinted toward the man who was distracted by the war dog.

With one last surge of adrenaline, Athene spun, swinging her ebony blade with all her might. It struck true and sliced through the leader's neck, thoroughly severing his head from his body. It landed on the ground with a sickening thud. His body quivered for a moment, blood spurting from the gaping cavity where his head should have been. The knees knocked together and down he went.

Panting, Athene looked to the table nearby. The pieces of Whunthruud! They were scattered about the table, all there. Her eyes met with Vilkas' and they both beamed with triumphant smiles. The first Athene had seen of him since Kadlok's death. Vilkas let out a holler and his blade clanged to the floor simultaneously with Athene's as she leapt into his arms and they embraced with almost frantic laughter.

He pulled back, still holding her, her legs wrapped around his torso and smiled.

"We did it, lass! We can give Kadlok an honorable funeral!"

She smiled back at him in agreement and their eyes locked. His dark Nordic orbs glinted with approval and respect. They stared at each other briefly, and then, overcome with the glory of the moment, their mouths molded together. Athene wrapped her fingers through Vilkas' long black hair, and he pressed his fingers tighter onto her bottom.

Their tongues were a fury of heated passion, battling with the strength of two ensnared warriors. Athene broke away first, panting as Vilkas began to devour her neck and collar bone. She let out a moan, her crotch tingling with excitement.

Vilkas turned and carried her to the bandits' bed, laying her back on it while still making work of her neck, her lips, and her clavicle. She cried out with a throaty moan, burying her fingers in his hair as he yanked open her leather bodice and freed her breasts. He caressed the nipples with his tongue and his lips, murmuring pleasurably as they peaked inside his hot mouth. She pressed him on further.

"Is there any greater glory?" He groaned between suckling.

Athene made quick work of pulling off his sky forged armor and soon he leaned over with gleaming bared chest and arms. His manhood strained against his trousers and he pressed against the valley of her womanhood. Vilkas nearly tore her pants from her legs as she did his and with a passionate frenzy, he overtook her, burying his rock hard member inside.

Athene threw her head back, crying out lustily and dug her fingers into his broad back. He grunted through gritted teeth and buried his head in the crook of her neck as he buried his shaft in her again and again, harder and harder. Her breasts pressed against his chest, creating blazing warmth between them. They were both glistening with sweat as the climax grew and grew, spinning them both into a fury of heaven comparable to the gates of Sovngarde.

Athene was gasping, bucking her hips against him, driving him further and further into her as her head swelled and filled with blinding light. She moaned in short gasping breaths as the white hot blaze filled her body, tingling every inch of her, tightening her womanhood around Vilkas' heavy and working member. He felt this and it only increased his pace, exciting him further. He gritted his teeth firmly and bared down on her more, his ballsacs smacking the tops of her butt cheeks with a rhythmic 'smacksmacksmacksmack'. Within an instant he threw his head back, letting out a furious war cry as the same blinding light filled him, and simultaneously filled her with his own hot white substance. His heart was pounding heavily, matching hers, as he finished filling her insides with the life stuff of his throbbing member. Slowly, he pumped twice more, and, exhausted, dropped his head into her neck.

They both fell back, breathing heavily, dripping sweat. The two laid there for awhile, basking in the glow of a passionate battle. Finally, though, Athene gently pushed Valko's off her with a sigh.

"We should probably gather up what supplies we can and get the pieces of Whunthruud secured."

Vilkas murmured agreement, but didn't move. Athene got up, fixing her tunic, but making no effort to retrieve the rest of her clothing. She wandered around the lair, looking at the cages that had held various animals in dismal and twisted darkness.

She felt eyes upon her and turned to see Valko's sitting up on the bed, staring. Athene turned.

"What is it?" She asked. He shrugged noncommittally, with the hint of a smile.

She started toward him, drawn by an inescapable power. As if drawn by that same power, he reached out to her and their hands locked. He drew her onto his lap and splayed his fingers. She spread hers against his and they leaned their foreheads against each other.

Athene had spent most of her life alone, at least until the incident at Helgen. Since then she had kept company with various hirelings, and on her way through Solitude she would stop in and visit her wife. Rarely did she get physical with any of them, beside Camilla, but even a wounded warrior succumbs to the sins of the flesh.

This was love, she thought. Not the marriage kind of love, though. A deeper kind of love. Not the kind that you bed and make babies with, but the deep, ancient, spiritual love of comrades who had faced the unthinkable together. She loved Vilkas as a man, as a Nord, as a fellow Companion.

The heat between them grew and she felt the tip of his member pressing against her still wet womanhood. They opened their eyes to each other, linked the fingers of their war-wearied hands and faintly brushed lips together. Athene moaned against his lips as he ran his fingers down her arms, the sides of her breasts, her stomach and her hips. Vilkas shifted her gently on top of his proud member and let her settle on to him. She took her time, floating down the length of his shaft until he was fully hilted, then wrapped her arms loosely around his shoulders, groaning softly and embracing the full feeling of his cock.

He brushed her hair from her neck and kissed and nibbled the hollows near her clavicle, burying his shadowed face in her. Whimpering tenderly she began to rise and fall on his shaft, gyrating ever so slowly. This was not the frenzied after-effects of battle. This was the spiritual union of shield-mates, a process that required time.

They engaged in this slow-motion reenactment for most of the rest of the night; gasps and moans and uttering echoing softly through the cave. Their tongues wielded to each other as they rocked slowly to an ancient drum beat. Athene moaned and whimpered, sheathing him completely inside her womanhood and wriggling back and forth against him. He threw his head back, hissing between clenched teeth, and she took the opportunity to encase his exposed neck in nibbles and run her warm tongue across his Adams apple.

Just as Vilkas felt he could take it no further he stopped her, lifting one of her long muscular legs over his lap, and spun her around, his cock still thoroughly lodged in her crevasse. He leaned back on one arm and pulled her back against his chest, breathing heavily in her ear. Then he spread her legs on to either side of his so that she was completely exposed and began trailing his fingers down her torso. She continued rocking back and forth on his tremendous member, whimpering in short, and needy breaths as his fingers starting trickling down her pubis. Athene uttered throatily as finally his digits hit home and found the swollen nubbin in her sweet ladyhood. With all the deftness of his skilled swordsman hands, he rubbed two fingers around the nub, lubricated from the mixture of their substances. She let out a long moan as he worked her ever so softly, teasing the rising fire from her. Athene began to hump with more ferocity as the blaze began to ignite.

'Uh, uh, uh, unhh!" She called out, her body tensing on top of him, her womanly essence coating his steaming cock.

He could take no more and wrapped his arms around her stomach, flinging both of them back and lodged himself in her dripping chasm. He pounded her, his balls flying up and smacking her deliciously sensitive clitoris, driving wild cries of pleasure from her throat. Vilkas gripped her bouncing breasts, driving harder and harder into her, moaning like a beast in the wild. The explosion of his essence was powerful as he lunged into her in one final, need driven thrust, and for the second time that night, filled her to bursting.

She cried out, gripping his hands atop her breasts and arched her back against his chest, overcome with the heat of his essence.

"Oh, gods..." She moaned, dropping her head to his shoulder.

His hands remained clasped to her breasts, but his member was slowly softening, releasing a stream of love fluids from the both of them. Neither could move for many minutes, but neither seemed to care. Eventually they simply rolled to the side, his arms still wrapped around her, occasionally brushing against her peaked nipples, and fell asleep.

When they awoke sun was glinting through various cracks and holes in the cave. They slowly awoke and cast flirtatious glances and the occasional crude joke at each other as they splashed around in the gentle stream running through the hideout. After they finished cleaning themselves up as best they could, they gathered what supplies and loot they could carry, as well as the pieces of Whunthruud, and made their way outside.

Barbos, who, most of the night had made himself scarce, appeared then, barking happily. The sunlight was dazzling after a night of blood and love making, and the two warriors shielded their eyes from it.

Athene looked to Vilkas who smiled sullenly at her. She bit her lip and nodded. The night was over. The passion they had shared would be banked like a fire on a summer's morning. Today they started back to Whiterun to return the pieces of Whunthruud and give Kodlak a proper Nord funeral. Vilkas knew she was thinking of the same thing as he, and touched her shoulder.

"We did it, Lass. I can't thank you enough for everything you've done for us. You've really earned your place in the Companions." He smiled at her, and she returned it. "You will come with me to Kodlak's funeral, wont you? It's only fitting that you should be the one to return the pieces."

She nodded. Of course she would. Vilkas bent down and brushed his lips against hers.

"And that was the best evening I think I've ever had." He muttered against her mouth. "You're quite a date, lass."

She smiled against his lips, enjoyed what was possibly the last kiss they would get to share, and shoved him forward to his horse, laughing.

"Let's go, mutt." She chided, kicking at the bottom of his boots and eliciting a whoop of laughter from him. "We've got a long ride to Whiterun."