Scarlet Scale Ch. 004

I had fun surprising Lydia with my loot-stashing spell. I was certain that if she was now sworn to defend me and my belongings with every ounce of strength she had, then I could definitely trust her with my secrets as well. Which also meant I was going to help her master the self-cast Alteration spell that would allow her to control her pussy's inner walls as I did with mine... heh-heh...

The morning was another browse in the market for jerky, fruit, and other minor supplies. I already had some stout Ebony armor, and weapons, so there was no need to buy that. My loyal housecarl showed me an easier way of fitting furs over the battle armor. She mentioned that the home of these 'Greybeards,' the 'Throat of the World,' was the peak of massive mountain east of Bleakfalls, which made the wind-blown, snow-dusted ruins look like they were sitting on a low hill. The route up, was apparently called, "The Path of the Seven Thousand Steps." After hearing that, I asked Lydia about it as we started walking down the road.

"Why do your people favor such extremes in the cold anyway?"

She seemed to think about it, but answered as we continued beneath the mountain's northern flank.

"I don't know exactly, speaking for my people, but the nords originated from the continent of Atmora, thousands of miles to the north across the Sea of Ghosts. The land there is covered in ice and snow all year long, its as though it has no summer. Perhaps my ancient ancestors had a 'comfort' of a sort with such cold, and is still there, hidden in our spirits. After all, why do your people favor the wild, hot swamps, filled with all manner of aggressive, dangerous predators?"

"Good point."

We spent several hours walking along while I thought about what I wanted for my life in this land. It was immensely beautiful, though very harsh, even to the nords who, as Lydia said, migrated from an even harsher land. I was still mystified by how I could barely notice the cold, when I knew that other argonians would be slowing down, and feeling tired. It's a holdover of my race, from when the Hist helped us develop from the salamanders that lived on the trees in the Merethic Era.

But... perhaps if, as my village shaman said, my soul wasn't argonian, then what about my physical body? I looked like any other argonian, and was hatched along with the others in my mother's clutch, but did my soul, being a different kind of soul, did that somehow affect me physically?

"My Thane," Lydia roused me from my thoughts, "I know that the main road goes straight ahead, but these stones stacked here," she pointed to them off to the side, "they often mark something for travelers in Skyrim. In this case, there is a trail that leads up to the village below the mountain. It's not as steep as the switchback ahead, and it bypasses the Valtheim Towers. I've heard they've become a bandit hideout. The trail is cold though."

"Sounds like the trail up is the better option, though I would enjoy a fight with those bandits..."

Lydia was surprised to hear that, as I smiled to myself. When I was younger, I was always confused with why people were surprised with why I liked to fight. The thrill, the triumph of victory, the prospect of profiting from my opponent's belongings, as long as I didn't resort to banditry or thieving, who wouldn't enjoy it? But as I matured, the longing of battle never faded, but my understanding of it grew. Most good people preferred to avoid fighting, because of the concern of injury, or worse, death. There's also worse things than death too, but such things as those are the study of conjurers, and those involved with the daedra, whether such business is good or ill.

Still, I always enjoy the surprise my genuine excitement of a fight elicits. I was feeling like there was something extremely important I needed to know about from the Greybeards, and even if I didn't have any idea of what, I wanted to find out as soon as possible.

We trudged up the steep switchback, using a couple magical staves made of aspen. Even if neither of us were seriously practiced in using offensive battle-magic, they did double as good walking sticks, and not all staves used Destruction magic anyway. These, Belethor, that smug breton merchant back in Whiterun, had told me, created a type of Alteration spell effect that I hadn't heard of until I got into Skyrim. A "skin" spell that worked in a way similar to my Ebonyflesh spell, in that it temporarily altered my body's flesh, but instead of making it more harder, I would be made more resistant to the cold of the elements, and this mountain was, according to Lydia, the highest in all of Skyrim, perhaps even higher than Red Mountain before it erupted. The breton who sold it to me openly admitted that he'd do anything to get my patronage, but that I could be sure that he would never cheat me, because he said that if customers had little reason to trust him, he wouldn't sell much.

Lydia had assured me that even though he was a weasel of a man, he had always been honest as a merchant, so I decided to rely on my investment in these new staves. After only a half hour of climbing, the ground was already giving way to dusted snow, and we still had a lot of mountain ahead.

About three hours after that, I was surprised to find an old, weathered pair of stone towers flanking the trail. No one seemed to be around, but it felt like an ambush could happen here.

"I thought you said the towers were down by the road below?"

"Yeah." Lydia replied. "I don't remember these, and I don't think I've ever heard of any hunters telling of them. Are you, uh... are you thinking of checking them out?"

"Only if the night was drawing close," I answered quietly "it's still midday, but I'm sure that there's probably a chance of bandits hiding here. Since this place is quite a bit off from the main road, then I think they wouldn't expect anyone here, but that it's isolated and generally unknown, also means that town guards or soldiers probably won't ever come out here, making it appealing for bandits. Stay alert, but let's keep moving. It's important to me that I find out what the Greybeards have to tell me."

"Of course my Thane."

I rolled my eyes. "Remember, Lydia, I want you to not be so formal, at least with me. You're not 'just' my housecarl to me..."

"Oh yes, my- ah, Scarlet..."

The amused affection in her tone made me feel like kissing her again, but we needed to know if the area was clear first. I cast my Detect All spell, and as I expected, there was the cloudy aura of two bandits showing in my spell's visual range. Usually, I would be happy to track them down, but I was more interested in getting to the Greybeards than wasting time.

"We know you're there," I yelled "so unless you want us to track you with my detection spell, I suggest that you leave us alone, and we won't have to kill you!!"

Lydia and I saw a wood elf's head pop up from behind a big boulder on the right. He seemed to appraise our armor and weapons, then called back.

"You might kill us anyway, and we don't want the guard after us, if YOU don't! How do we know that letting you two go, is in our best interests?!"

"Because I promise you, that if you don't, then we WILL kill you! If you let us through, then we don't need to, and whether you stay here for the guard or not, is up to you after!"

The bandit turned and whispered a bit to his companion for a moment. He seemed irritated with the other one, but after a moment, he nodded and turned towards us. The other bandit stepped out, her hands held high. I smiled.

"That wasn't too hard for you, I hope." I quipped "Now, no sudden moves, so we won't need to make any sudden moves, and you may both see the next morning."

"May I ask something?" The wood elf asked.

"Well," I said as Lydia and I cautiously walked forward "you just did, but I appreciate checking first, so go ahead."

"Yeah... uh, why are you passing through here anyway? It's off from the road, and there's nothing important close by, so...?"

"My reasons are my own," I answered "but neither I, or my friend here knew about your towers, so be comfortable in that it's got no connection to you or them. Is that all?"

"Uh, yes." The elf said nervously.

"Good then."

Lydia and I continued through the trail as it clove its way up the mountain's flank. We had also turned to face the bandits as we made our way, not giving them a chance to fling arrows into our backs. They also watched us just as carefully, but before long, their hideout was out of bow-range.

"Giving vampires and bandits alike patience..." Lydia chuckled "You are an odd one for a sellsword."

"Oh," I meant to clarify, "I didn't care about whether they lived or died. It's this meeting with your people's Greybeards I'm thinking of. I'm not sure why, but I feel like it's of the utmost importance that I see them, as if I'm being pulled by forces I do not know, for reasons I also do not know, to some strange sort of destiny that, again, I do not know. But... I... I... I guess I long to know it... this... 'something' about myself, and the strange thing is why many fear the unknown, so much that they would run from it. Instead I... I want run TO it. I want to embrace it, to take its power into myself, and... have it become a part of who and what I am. But as I said, I do not know why..."

We continued on in silence for a while until reaching what seemed to be the crest of the flank. As the snow gave way again to the greener foliage, I got a bit more curious about politics here. Hadvar told me before, somewhat about the Empire and these rebels, the "Stormcloaks." But admittedly, his opinion was probably biased in favor of the Empire. Lydia told me that during the last Great War with the High Elves, the Imperial Army had pulled nearly all of their legions back to Cyrodiil for defending the capital. When that happened, a group of bretons living in the Reach, who preferred a wild, primitive lifestyle, and one that had them refusing to give up their gods or beliefs, saw it as the opportunity to take back the land for themselves.

When they did, the nords were pushed out from ruling the Reach, but Lydia told me she hadn't heard of any cruelty from them, and all seemed peaceful for around 2 years. But the nords of the Reach wanted it back under their control, and Ulfric actually led some kind of effort in regaining it. She told me she didn't know any firsthand accounts of what happened when their capital, Markarth, was retaken, those surviving bretons were forced away to the hills, taking the new name, the "Forsworn," attacking almost any who approached them.

I commented that seemed like a bitter result, and Lydia agreed. Then she continued, explaining that as incentive for helping retake the city, Ulfric and his soldiers would be granted permission to worship Talos again, there. But, this couldn't seem to escape notice from the Thalmor, the arrogant political group that ruled as the Altmer government. I wasn't ever clear about why Talos was removed as a divine, but apparently people had been getting arrested, perhaps even secretly executed, all for just worshipping Talos. So, the Thalmor wouldn't simply stand by if a whole city did that, unless the nords were willing to get into another long and bloody war with the high elves.

Ulfric, though, he had refused to back down from intentions on worshipping Talos, and started demanding that Skyrim break away from the Empire, because it had "turned its back on Talos." His rebellion started then, and to conclusively prove his point, he actually challenged Skyrim's High King, Torygg, to single combat. Lydia didn't know any details about that either, but said rumors were flying that Ulfric used a thu'um to shout him apart.

Since I saw him only recently arrested, it was clear that whatever happened, Ulfric was victorious in that encounter.

"Wait a minute," I said "if Ulfric successfully breaks Skyrim away from the support of the Empire, wouldn't that give the high elves a perfect opportunity to sweep in and make an even stronger effort at hunting Talos worshippers?"

"Realistically," Lydia answered "yes. But many who hold to the old faith, believe that because of Ulfric's efforts, Talos HIMSELF would help us, and do some 'thing' to aid the rebellion, as a Divine. Myself, I really don't know yet, both sides make strong arguments. The Empire seems a pragmatic option, and yes, I agree that if it continues to weaken, then the Thalmor would probably love to throw us all under their boot heels, because then nobody could fight them off. But, if Talos really does somehow back Ulfric, that's amounting to the power of faith and the blessings of a god. Talos is... well, Heimskr would tell you that Talos is the ascended founder of the latest great dynasty of the Septim Emperors, starting with Tiber Septim. Tiber was also dragonborn, and used shouts in battle. The old stories say that he could actually shout up a full thunderstorm with rain and lightning that would strike his foes wherever he went. If you're dragonborn, then..."

She seemed to think about something, and I politely waited.

"You told Jarl Balgruuf," she said slowly "that Helgen was destroyed by a dragon. Please, can you tell me what he looked like?"

"Large, and his scales were a sort of coal-like black. A lot of narrow, spear-like spikes all along the back of his spine. I'm still not sure of how I know, but when he landed in front of me, I already knew his name."

"You did?" Lydia was blanching white now, but I felt this was important.

"Alduin."

"Oh by the Gods!" She was frantic now, looking furtively around the sky.

"What?" I was getting worried that she was worried.

"In the old tales," Lydia explained "it is said Alduin will actually eat the whole world!! Only a dragonborn can actually stop him, but-"

"Lydia," I interrupted her as she staggered to sit on a boulder "I actually killed that dragon out by the watchtower, remember? The guards, one of them your brother, saw me do it. If only a dragonborn can absorb the essence of the dragons, then... then I must BE dragonborn. I would fight this 'Alduin.' I don't know about your people's beliefs, but maybe Akatosh and Talos, if he really is the ascended Tiber Septim, maybe my presence is their answer to the threat of Alduin. I'll try another shout here, if It helps you."

I turned around, focusing on an old rotted log, and took a deep breath...

"FUS!"

The log was thrown back by 10 feet, and when I walked up closer to get a better look, I smiled. The part that was directly in front of me was crushed a little. A lot weaker than what I presumed Alduin could do, but I obviously could do something.

"I WILL face Alduin, Lydia. I won't simply 'let' anything or anyone 'eat' the world."

"Oh my Thane..." she looked at me now with deep, passionate, raw admiration now "I would happily let you 'eat' me..."

We began to kiss, slowly disrobing. Our tongues danced, and our hands caressed as we drew the armor aside. I quickly threw my pack down, and my housecarl laid down on top of it.

By the time she was looking back up at me in her cute, adoring way, I already had my own greaves' crotch unbuckled. But she asked me to eat her out first, so I lowered down to her greaves, tugging out the knots of her steel armor. The metal plates and leather came aside, rewarding me with the sight of her tender pink petals. They were already moist.

I moistened them even more as my tongue began caressing her passage. The sound of her moaning was the most beautiful music in the world to me in that moment. Lydia was playing with my head's feathers and horns, tugging anxiously at them to urge my mouth closer to her cleft.

I had to concentrate to resist the urge to bite into her, as an argonian, my teeth were in four rows inside my mouth, with the top and bottom rows divided in the middle. The individual teeth were sharp, pointed, and close as they were, my jaws acted like sawblades on whatever I bit. The mild curse of being primarily a meateater. I couldn't even understand the physical reasons of how bosmer could be completely carnivorous, their teeth were still like those of the average human or mer.

But I didn't need to ponder about anyone other myself and Lydia, though I would have happily invited any others to join us in our fun. I was certain now that Lydia would want that too, but we were alone. The barbed nature of my tongue brought Lydia to cumming in only five minutes, but I wasn't pausing in the slightest.

I reveled in her sweet nectar, and then after I made sure that I still had a mouth full of her own juices, I lifted up to kiss her, letting my Housecarl savor the fruits of her pleasure. She moaned happily into my mouth, greedily swallowing her own taste, and hugged me to her. As we began bucking our labias together, I remembered the vampire I spared in the Bannered Mare.

'She really couldn't help herself,' I thought, 'and I don't know of any cures for it, but as I already suspected, she also had a choice of who she fed on. By the logic I had felt and still do, that makes her at least better than a saber cat or some other wild predator. But now I'm also wondering why she called it a "gift." I've always known that they became more powerful in darkness, but... why? Oh... oh Lydia... I... these thoughts... oh... I'm so fucking turned on... I think I... I might sympathize with the vampire on some... oh... some things... I need to... convince... Lydia...'

I pulled my tit to her mouth, enjoying the feeling of sucking fiercely on my globe. I waited as she drank, then spoke up again.

"Ah... Lydia, you're such a great woman... your loyalty... oh you feel soooo... good... your loyalty, you love me, don't you?"

She nodded eagerly, as I expected.

"Surpassing... ohhhh... your Jarl?"

Again, she nodded, not stopping as she suckled my greenish milk.

"Ex... ahhhhhh... excellent. The... vampire... ohhhhh Lydia, ohhh... ohhhh yes... she was attractive... wasn't she?"

I wasn't sure if Lydia was responding by it, or if she simply was lusting for more of my sap-diluted milk, but she began sucking even harder.

"I thought she was... yessss... DRIIIIINK me... I think we should... look into more information... about... ahhhhh... vamp... vampires..."

By now, we were both cumming, our juices mixing freely. Lydia was nodding again, but even in my own state of pleasure, I was somewhat aware that her eyes were rolled back into her head. We began slowing down our rhythms from our mutual orgasms, and then simply basked in the glow of them as we laid there.

After a little time of this, we got up, readying ourselves for resuming our trip to the Greybeards. The day was nearly over by the time we arrived in Ivarstead, the town in just below the eastern flank of their mountain. Simply from the time between bandits' hideout, and the arrival at the town, we had fought off an ethereal creature that resembled a ghostly woman shrouded in ice, then after, a forest troll. I was impressed by how much I had clearly underestimated Skyrim's wilderness, and very happy that it seemed to be giving all the challenge I sought. Lydia had informed me that the icy ghost was called a "Wispmother," and that most had no clues as to their hostility, but they were definitely dangerous. Fortunately, my fireball spell's aim true, and even when she tried creating a lot of copies of herself, I kept my focus on where the first apparition was.

When she disappeared into a small pile of half melted ice and some kind of thin cloth-like fibers, I pocketed the fibers in one of many small pouches I carried for this. Usually dangerous creatures had something about them that were considered valuable in some way or another, and it was always better to assume that, than not search.

After I started down the road towards their inn, one of the town guards approached me.