Dragonborn Rising Ch. 04

The scene switched that of an orgy. Naadia was the center of attention in an erotic rite within the Temple of Dibella. The priestesses and several dark elves took turns pleasuring her.

In yet another, this time as Harbinger, her and Aela were hunting and stopped in the scablands of Eastmarch to bath. They undressed each other and washed in one of the warm eddies of a hot spring. Aela, the fire-haired Nord huntress washed her Harbinger's back and then reached around to begin massaging Naadia's brown-skinned breasts and playfully pinch her dark nipples. Naadia reached behind her and began stroking the lips of her partner's womanhood. Soon Aela took her by the hand and led her to a warm, shallow pool. There they used their tongues and fingers to explore each other's anatomy and bring themselves to ecstasy.

"My goodness," exclaimed Vile, "She is a randy little bitch! Isn't she."

"Now that's she's nibbled at the bait and likes it," said Vearmina, "I will soon set the hook," as she cackled with evil laughter and a grasping motion with a clawed hand, squeezed the orb tightly. "I will begin haunting her with horrific nightmares that will rob her of sleep and steal away her ability to think clearly."

Vile then shared the progress he had been making. "The Thalmor," he commented, "Are almost too easy to manipulate."

The Daedric Prince of wishes went onto to detail again Elenwen's her lust for revenge against Ulfric and Elisif. It was only the right thing to do, in granting her wish that Daedric prince settle a few debts as well.

"Yes," hissed Mephala, playing into the narcissism of Clavicus Vile, "You then reached out to us and here we are." The spider then inquired, "How do we use all of this to our advantage. Getting even with the Dragonborn is one thing," and pointing out, "Invading Tamriel is quite another."

"I beg to differ," said Vile holding up a slim finger. He then went onto describe his plans for conquering Tamriel, leaving out the recent detail of the losing a staff of gates. It was easily replaceable with the wisdom he had granted to the Aldmeri Dominion. The mage who had it wanted revenge against the Dragonborn herself. It seems her brother had been Lorcalin, a Thalmor Justicar, who had encountered Heart-Striker when she was delivering the battle horn of good king Torygg, to a shrine of Talos.

Alas he mused with a chuckle, this fool learned that revenge has a way of turning on you sometimes.

He finished by saying, "The so-called 'Oblivion Crisis' will pale in comparison to our invasion. Instead of one Daedric Prince there will be many. Working together, we will defeat the Dragonborn and when she's out of the way, Tamriel and all of Mundus will be ripe for the picking."

Near Falkreath

Cicero was elated beyond words. He had awoken this morning to the beckoning call of the Night Mother. He was surprised at first and had to disentangle himself from Elabythe. She was dead asleep and barely stirred when he had pushed her aside to leave their bed. He padded naked to the main cavern, so he wouldn't disturb her.

Dead, he thought with a chuckle. That was their favorite game. He would wrap his hands around her throat while he fucked her and would squeeze ever so gently. Her eyes would bulge, and she would thrash about and flail. Just before her eyes would roll-up in their sockets and she would pass out, he would release her.

They would laugh and then they would switch positions. He would lie on his back, as she impaled herself on his erection. As she slid up and down on it, she would wrap her hands around his throat and begin squeezing the life out of him. It was exhilarating, he thought. He loved it, when they made love this way. Death was such an exciting game.

When he reached the main cavern, he followed a corridor and passing several skeletons found himself in Mother's chamber. A room bathed in the low light of candles. In this chamber stood a large iron coffin. He tiptoed up to it and embraced it in his arms and softly said, "I am here, Mother. What do you require?"

Oh, he loved the feel of the cool polished iron against his naked body. Some nights he fantasized about making love to the Night Mother, inside of her home. The heard the voice call his name again and he jumped. Like a child being caught doing something he shouldn't, he stepped awy from the coffin.

The voice then whispered, "My Keeper. You and your love must leave this place. That foul bitch, the Listener, has sent her dogs to search for you here."

Cicero was confused. Leave his home! How could he. "Mother," he began, "Why must I leave. I know how to kill dogs."

"I am not saying runaway," said the voice and continued by saying, "Your Night Father and I have great plans for you."

"Mother, where will we go," whined Cicero at the thought of leaving this dark place.

The Night Mother voice took on a stern tenor, as if correcting a child, "You will travel to the south and east, past Helgen to Hamar's Shame. This is one of the Night Father's homes."

Softening her voice again as if to comfort, the Night Mother then said, "I will be there as well. Do not worry, my Keeper. I have not abandoned you."

"What about your coffin, Mother," said Cicero, stepping forward he placed his hand once more on the cool metal. "Elabythe isn't strong enough to help me move it," he concluded.

"I no longer require this mortal home. I have ascended to the exalted planes of Oblivion," came the response.

The Night Mother then detailed what needed to be done before they left. They would leave Elabythe's friends and a few other surprises behind. The preparations took several hours to complete, and they then waited for sunset and struck out through the woods, in the direction specified. Elabythe was sad that she had to leave her friends behind and she walked with her head down.

"It will be okay," soothed the jester, putting an arm around her shoulder as they walked down a forest path. He looked at her and smiled an evil grin, "Mother says there will lots of new friends, where we are going."