Challenges

Eiryn soon found herself sitting across one the tables in the large public room of Desele’s Earthly Delights. She listened to Saber tell an amusing story of one of his larcenous adventures that turned out rather badly, leaving him facing a handful of guards without any weapons, and losing the very item he had been set to steal. Truly the Dunmer could rival a bard by his flourished tale! Animated, the Dark Elf certainly embellished the ensuing fight but was modest enough to admit he lost soon enough and faced several months in the Imperial prison.
Sighing sadly, he toasted his cup to Fate. “That being said, I can honestly say that the necklace was hardly the price for my freedom.” He filled his cup once again. “But I suppose the adventure might be considered worth it.”
Eiryn shook her head in disbelief. “How long were you in prison?”
“Six months.” He replied quickly. By his tone, Eiryn felt he could give her details to the very hour or minute of time spent behind bars. Clearly he hated confinement, valued his freedom. “Then I’m suddenly pardoned by the Emperor himself, and sent here to the lands of Morrowind.”
“To fulfill some ancient prophecy…” Eiryn murmured, not wishing to speak too loudly of his quest to unintended ears. “How much of the tale do you know of?”
“Not much.” The Dunmer admitted, folding an arm against his chest and leaned back in his chair. “Something about the Sixth House cult having to do with the outbreak of Blight disease, and how someone named Dagoth Ur is at the root of it.”
The Sixth House…the very words rang fear into the hearts of any who knew their history. There were six major Houses in the lands of Morrowind, but the Sixth House, also known as House Dagoth, had betrayed Morrowind and was exterminated. Now the cult of the Sixth House was rumored to have ‘wakened’. Tales whispered of the undead, with soulless creatures come to attack settlements, and the priests of this cult, readying to overcome Vvardenfell.
“Dagoth Ur…Lord of House Dagoth-“ Eiryn nearly shuddered. She’d heard the stories enough to grow uneasy at the turn of conversation. “They say he lives under Red mountain, and he’s responsible for causing the ash storms and blight. His followers are mad creatures, ghouls and zombies, and the corpus beasts.”
Saber made a face. “Corpus…everything I heard of the disease is horrible.” He said in disgust. “The ash storms from Red Mountain cause this?”
Eiryn shook her head. “The ash storms cause the Blight diseases. Corpus infects from corpus beasts such as the lame corpus or corpus stalker.”
The Dunmer made a sound similar to a snort or cough, though his handsome face twisted into one of disgust. “I’ve seen a few corpus beasts. Horrid creatures. Misshapen and always hungry for flesh, even of their own.”
Eiryn considered what he said. She was lucky enough to never having met one, and only could go by the stories she’d heard from adventurers in the region. They were malformed beasts that were once men who crawled out from under Red Mountain and said to always carry a taste for flesh, even going so far as cutting off their own to feed. A wave of sickness passed over her. “You’re lucky you haven’t caught corpus. The creatures can spread it.”
”I did catch blight disease once.” Saber added, already knowing the perils and must have already faced. “I’ve caught Ash-woe before. Thankfully I had some potions on hand just for that reason.” He shuddered. “Terrible illness. Makes you hurt all over, gives you all manner of delusions.”
Wanting to talk of something more light-hearted, Eiryn had him fill her cup once more of the sweet liquor known as Sujamma. It was Dunmer whiskey, with a sweet taste and hard kick but left one feeling very warm and relaxed. “And what do you think of our fair land of Morrowind?”
“You mean besides the ash storms, the Blight, and the threat of the Sixth House?” He laughed. “Morrowind seems rife with danger, and the racism is difficult to stomach, and honestly, I’ll never get used to some aspects of this land.”
“Such as?”
”Stilt striders.” He spat, adding a dramatic shudder. “Big ugly bugs as the main source of transportation? Ugh.”
The young scout barked a laugh, considering he just admitted to facing and surviving corpus beasts. Stilt striders were passive insect-like creatures used all over Vvardenfell as the main mode of transport. They were nearly three stories tall, being mostly all legs, and moved with a gentle sway making traversing safe. It was preferable to walking where one might face any number of wild beast or criminals on the open road.
“Would you rather walk everywhere?”
He shrugged, brushing back hair that fell over his eyes. Most of the length was tucked behind his pointed ears. “I generally walk, teleport, or fly.” His fingers pulled out an amulet around his neck, showing a silver disk with inlaid gems and glyphs worked into the metal. “One of the mages lent this to me.”
Eiryn wasn’t really looking at the piece of jewelry, but noticed how long his fingers were, the nails slightly longer than most men would have it, and unique rings on each hand. So he practiced a fair amount of magery as well? “Teleports you or levitation?”
Teeth flashed in his crooked grin. “This only teleports me back to Balmora, and it’s only on loan from the guild there.” He pushed it back under the collar of his shirt. “I’m already training to make various potions for what lies ahead. You never know when healing or water walking might come in handy.”
To this Eiryn was very familiar with. Being a scout required a good bit of travel, and she had to master Alchemy very early in her career in order to survive. Levitation and water walking potions were essential in the Televani district, where wizards built their mushroom towers without stairs on islands with no docks. One had to fly in order to reach them.
“Are you a member of the guild?” Eiryn asked, suddenly curious.
“Which one?”
She smirked as his feigned ignorance. “The mage’s guild.”
He looked away. “Let us say, that I am a member of a profitable guild and leave it as that.” Saber took another sip of his drink. His secretiveness only proved to have her want to know more about him.
Somehow he didn’t fit to follow the rules that the fighter’s, mage’s, or any of the Great Houses’ would demand of him. “But you’re being trained in the mage’s guild?”
“As a favor to Caius I would think.” Saber nodded. “Not to be a mage though.”
That made sense. Generally only faction members received training, but Caius pulled strings all the time, even for Eiryn to get training in any number of the guilds in Balmora.
“And Hasphat at the Fighter’s Guild?” She asked, remembering Caius mention this elf’s skill with the blade. “He’s training you as well?”
The Dunmer tilted his head realizing she knew more about him than he thought. “I’m already fairly trained. Hasphat is more of a sparring partner. But he’s a Blade is he not?”
Shaking her head, Eiryn corrected him. “No, he is more than happy to provide training to just about anyone with coin, regardless if you’re a member of his fighter’s guild or not. I think the gold supports his interest in archeology.”
“Dweemer ruins.” Saber snorted in disgust. “Yes, I’m well aware of that interest the man has. He sends me on some foolish errand to find a Dweemer puzzle box in the Arkngthand ruins near Fort Moonmoth. The man fails to let me know that smugglers had taken up base there.”
“And this was cause for concern? From what I hear, you’re rather good with the sword.” Eiryn commented, remembering what Caius had warned her of trying to force him in returning to Balmora. The man’s gaze sharpened, trying to gauge what her meaning was. It took her a moment that her comment might be construed as something else entirely.
Almost as if reading her thoughts, his gaze pointedly dropped down to his lap and back to her, with a lewd grin on his face. “Well that is for Myra to say, or Desele, or any of the dancers over yonder-“
”I meant the blade in the sheath, you dolt.” Eiryn snickered, “And Desele has already mentioned to me your stamina.”
Saber shrugged with feigned modesty. “Well yes, I am pretty good my sword.” He took another sip of his drink to hide the coy smirk on his lips. Eiryn held back the urge to slap him playfully, enjoying his easygoing manner too much for her own good.
“I avoid a fight when I can however,” Saber continued on a more serious note. “I prefer using stealth and my charming good nature instead.”
“Very disarming to be sure.” Eiryn agreed, “Though how effective are your ‘charms’ against blight infected kagouti?”
“Oh those I use harsh language.” He said with a bland expression.
Eiryn laughed at this, stifling her giggle with her hand. Kagouti were almost all teeth and tusks, with huge bipedal feet bearing claws they preferred to stomp you into the ground so much as look at you. “I’ll bear that in mind next time I’m cornered by one the beasts.”
His red eyes glowed like embers in the dim candle glow of the room. “And what of your training?” he countered, motioning to Desele across the smoke filled room for another bottle. “All scouting or has Hasphat provided you lessons with the sword at your hip?”
The young woman began to feel the effects of the Sujamma, feeling a pleasant warmth and general sense of ease. “I know the sword well enough I suppose, but my skill is with the bow.”
“Marksman?”
She nodded, “I often win at the festivals held in Pelagiad in the Last Seed month.” Pausing, Eiryn remembered seeing his long bow resting near the bed upstairs. She preferred a shorter bow to the long, strength-bearing models. “And you?”
“Fair enough.” He grinned in false modesty.
The more his answers to her questions were ambiguous, the more she wanted to know more about him.
“Is Saber your real name?” The question popped out of her mouth in the hopes of learning more about this elusive man.
Arched brows rose up in surprise. “I’d certainly question a woman who’d name her child after a weapon.”
“So it’s a nickname then.”
“One of many.” He nodded.
“So what’s your real name?”
“Ah there is a real mystery.” Saber remained sly. “I don’t have a given name. Not one that was given by my mother anyway.”
Eiryn tilted her head curiously. “You have no name?”
”Oh I have a name…several in fact, just none are ones that were given to me by my mother- whoever she was.” He took a long pull from his tankard, suddenly self-conscious at the woman’s hard stare. Setting the cup down, he explained. “I was presumably orphaned.”
On a certain day to uncertain parents… Even Eiryn had heard the prophecy of the Incarnate and knew only bits and pieces of the story. Supposedly, the Incarnate would have questionable parentage. So perhaps Saber fulfilled some of the stories.
“So what name do you prefer to go by?” Eiryn asked. Her curiosity in his real identity stumped her to no end.
Saber folded arms to lean on the table, tilting his chin low as if it were some marvelous secret. “One name is as good as any other.” He whispered, winking at her with a boyish grin.
“Then I will just call you S’wit.” Eiryn smiled graciously, enjoying the grimace he returned. The term was a Dunmeri insult, meaning something akin to fool, or shithead.
He forced a scowl beyond the obvious humor that had returned. “I understand what you are asking me. The first name I remember was Feryl, so if you wish to go by that, suit yourself.”
”Feryl…” She said the name and it seemed to suit him. “What does it mean?”
The mouth pulled into a crooked smile again. “Its Old Common meaning ‘wild or ‘fierce’, often referring to a stray dog.”
It was Eiryn’s turn to be surprised. A stray dog? It sounded more of an insult than nickname. “Who would name you that?”
The smile faded. His red gaze shifted away as he grew suddenly very uncomfortable with the topic. “It’s a nickname, like Saber.” He obviously brushed her question aside, pointedly not answering. “Good as any other.”
Tapping fingernails along the edge of her cup, Eiryn considered she perhaps had too much to drink. She’d missed the last ride out of Suran, and would need to consider where to sleep that night. Glancing at Feryl…or Saber…or whoever he was, the young scout considered his previous offer.
“You have the room here for the night?” She asked him, having to lean across the table to raise her voice in order to be heard above the rowdy men ogling the dancing girls.
“Yes, I paid for the entire night.” His red eyes glowed in the dim room, and a smile spread on his mouth. “What did you have in mind?”
The young scout grinned, feeling frisky. “You promised me lessons.” She reminded him, already warming to the idea of his body against hers. In the back of her mind, she knew perhaps it was the Sujamma doing the talking now, but he was so cocky, his manner so damned confident, she wondered if his boasting matched his skill.
“So I did-“ He moved to stand up, but two large men soon sheltered over their small table in the corner. One was a burly Nord, with broad shoulders and the bluest eyes. His long blond hair was worn in traditional Nord fashion with two single braids framing his equally broad face. The other man was a smaller Redguard, with a long scar from his temple to his cheek. His brown skin bore several impressive scars from battles. An eye was white from damage, but he seemed well enough to handle himself with only one eye. The sharp dagger on his belt, with the Nord’s small hand axe also ready at his side indicated trouble.
Saber’s expression turned suddenly very dark at the humans. “Might I help you gentlemen? Perhaps…out the door?”
The threat was not unnoticed as the men glared back at him, and Eiryn briefly wondered why he was so suddenly taking the offense with these men. Did he know them? They looked down at her, exchanging glances.
“We were admiring the woman you have.” The Nord commented, clearly showing his interest in her. “A Breton is she not?”
Saber was less than pleased. “She is with me-“ He started to say.
The Redguard stepped forward, “I think it is for the lady to say.” He smiled, certain to show his heavy purse at his belt. Did he think he could win her with coin or his so-called charms? “Perhaps the lady might want a man- or two men- of considerable more size?”
Eiryn considered the remark on size might not have much to do with their measure. But both men were indeed taller and having more bulk than the lithe Dark Elf, having even considerable larger weapons at their belts than Saber’s elegant scimitar.
Saber remained tense. He didn’t seem as though he’d be offended if she did pick one or both of the men, but frankly they paled in comparison to him. Clearly of the three, Saber was the best looking and from what little she knew of him, the most likeable of the lot.
For a brief moment, Eiryn found herself very curious indeed to what would happen if the men fought. Of the three, one might consider the Nord to be victor having the mass and strength, but the Redguard or Elf might show stealth, or speed, especially Saber to which the Dunmer’s swiftness was renown.
Shoving thoughts away, she reminded herself that she was no tavern wench, or even a ‘lady’ as the men continually complimented her with. She was a Blade Apprentice! The thought sobered her a bit, sharpening her mind enough to realize her situation.
“I’m afraid I need to retire, Gentlemen.” She said with an air of nobility, wanting to find some way of exiting this trouble, but still unsure to where she’d sleep that night. Perhaps she should try to ask one of the city guards out on the streets for suggestions to where to stay. These men were hardly the companions she needed. Most likely she shouldn’t be even playing with thoughts about the Dunmer for that matter, being what he was. Thief, rogue, a fellow Blade and Incarnate. Caius might not be very happy should happen between them. “So if you’ll excuse me-“
The Nord blocked her way, refusing to move. The thin-lipped mouth curled back in a coarse grin. “Perhaps you’d need some help to a room upstairs?” He offered, leering by raking her small frame with his eyes.
Perhaps the Nord had too much to drink, or perhaps men as a whole didn’t care much for anything but a warm body? By the gods, there were three very pretty, very available women at their leisure on the dance floor! Why bother with her?
“I think I can handle leaving on my own.” She said, side stepping the large man.
She wasn’t certain to what the man hoped to gain by his actions, but his hand moved to touch her arm, when Saber exploded into action. He must have been waiting for the man to do something wrong. Easily snatching the offending hand, he twisted the man’s wrist behind his back subsequently slamming the heavy Nord face first into the table. The wooden frame nearly buckled under the force, and the entire pub fell silent from the noise.
Saber leaned forward to snarl in his ear. “Touch her again, and I break more than your hand.” The Nord spat blood from the mouth, where his face connected to the wood.
From the corner of her eye, she saw the Redguard move forward, but the Elf dodged the dagger meant to slip into his ribs, at the same time moving his free elbow up and back to the man’s nose. The thud of elbow connect to soft tissue was soon followed by a garbled cry of pain. He managed this all without losing his grip on the Nord’s broken wrist.
By now Desele approached, taking matters in her own hands. “I believe you two gentlemen have homes to go to.” She glared at the Redguard, her hands holding a heavy club used just for troublemakers such as they. “Or shall I call the city guards?”
Saber released the Nord, stepping back to move his hand on the hilt of a dagger lest the man decide to retaliate. All the blond man could do is cast a baleful glare to the Dunmer shared with his Redguard friend as they made their exit.
Giving Desele a short bow, Saber apologized for the disturbance.
The woman laughed off his concern. “At least you didn’t break anything this time.” She said, patting his arm. “I’d watch my back with those men though. Hurolf and Rim can be vicious as rabid netch.”
”I will bear that in mind.” Saber told her, turning his attention to Eiryn who stood a bit unsteady on her feet.
“’Break anything this time’?” Eiryn echoed, curious to what Desele meant by that.
He looked sheepish. “A few tables…a bottle over someone’s head. Nothing serious.”
She stifled laughter. “I thought you said you weren’t a hero.”
The dark elf seemed oddly self-conscious now. Shrugging, he drank the last of his own drink. He spoke into his cup. “No, just hoping to get lucky tonight.”
Eiryn bubbled with laughter, enjoying his sense of humor. It was so primal her reaction to seeing how easily he handled the men. She wanted him now more than ever. To hell with what Caius would think!
“Lead on then, Saber of Cyrodil, hero and upholder of my honor.” She said, moving to press up against his lean frame. Saber smiled, still self-conscious, as he kept her upright with a stiff arm around her waist.
“I’m afraid you had a bit much to drink.” He told her, helping her take the stairs up, after she stumbled on the first step.
“That I did.” Eiryn readily agreed feeling somewhat fuddled. “I’m not used to Dunmer whiskey.” She nearly stumbled again as they reached the door of his room, where he practically had to carry her to the bed. He dropped his sheath and belt by the door, too hampered now with the young scout to handle a weapon.
Wrapping arms around his neck, she admired his fine features, trailing a hand along his smooth face as he set her near the bed. She kept herself up by keeping an arm around his waist.
He had the most amazing eyes, having an unusual but wonderful hue of red, of deep burgundy, and thick lashes made eyes appear dark. Upon closer inspection, Eiryn appreciated the fine lines of his jaw, the smooth texture of his skin- “By the gods, you are beautiful…” She sighed out loud.
A sudden smirk tugged at his mouth as he was amused by her flattery. He shifted his gaze, pulling her off with gentle but firm hands “I think you best sleep this off.”
”What?” Through her bleary Sujamma muddled mind, she realized he was refusing her.
The dark elf shook his head. “I can’t take advantage of you in this condition-“
“Oh come on, why start being a gentleman now?“ She re-engaged herself to slide seductively against him, tugging his shirt up so that hands to slip inside along his tight waist and enjoy the warm skin beneath. “You’re so much better at being a scoundrel.”
Jerking away as if ticklish, he laughed softly at her continued attempts at pulling him into bed.
“You’ll hate yourself in the morning, or worse- you’ll hate me.” He told her.
Eiryn sighed softly, “I’ll be too hung over to care.” Reassuring him by moving to her knees to kneel on the bed, now able to nuzzle lips against his throat. “You promised me-“ Daring now, she trailed her tongue along the elegant column of his throat, enjoying the sharp intake of breath he made when she did. “To give me lessons.”
“That was when you were sober.” He murmured, only half-heartedly fending her off now. “And I’m beginning to wonder if you even need lessons-“ Just as he pulled one arm off, the other would snake back around his waist. She hoped persistence might win out.
“In handling a naked man in a brothel?” Eiryn took a deep breath, enjoying the scent of him, of the leather and incense on his skin. “Let’s find out, shall we?” With a harder tug, she pulled the front his shirt with a sharp yank, throwing him off balance, landing him almost on top of her. Saber laughed, trying to get up only to find her legs and arms wrap around his waist and neck, preventing him from anything but to remain where he was.
“Eiryn…” He said, trying to be somber, but the eyes squinted in the attempt. “I’m serious!-“
She pulled him close, teasing his mouth with her lips. “I can tell you want this as much as I do.” His breath caught, and another attempt to pull back. She laughed lightly, choosing to snuggle against his neck once more. “Are you trying to play hard to get?”
Saber no longer pulled away. “Is it working?”
“Marvelously so.” She conceded, feeling his hand brush her cheek. Leaning against the affection. With the softest touch, he brushed lips against hers. Enticingly, the full lips nibbled on hers before finally rewarding her with a deeper more passionate kiss.
A low moan escaped her throat, hands trailing up his back to help remove his shirt, enjoying the delightful feel of toned flesh against her palms. It had been so long since she’d slept with anyone, focusing her time and efforts with her work. Only on a few occasions did she enjoy a tumble with someone in her travels, but most were regrettable. One was a young Imperial farmer who’d let her stay the night in his hut during a storm; the other was Breton adventurer she’d been guiding into the Grazelands region. Both were hardly memorable.
She’d never been with an elf before. Dark Elves were the most unknown of what manner of lovers they made, being they usually kept to their own. They held a usual distain for all the other races, including other elven kind, seeing their race as the true humans of the world, and everyone else were base animals. This one however wasn’t like other Dark Elves in any sense of the word- well he had the same stormy gray flesh tone, the glossy black hair, the elven features of graceful brows and chin. Saber seemed light-hearted, and now all too eager once the doors of passion were opened.
He was well muscled for an elf, yet not overly so, all bearing on a graceful frame without the bulk. Elven body frames were remarkably light, providing them speed and agility. Unlike Breton males who tended to have body hair, elves were generally smooth.
She ran hands along his back, tugging at the line of his trousers.
“Are you certain-?” The Dunmer murmured in her ear, his voice thick with growing desire. “You wish to do this?”
Eiryn nipped at his chin, knowing he was giving her one final chance to think before they continued, but she was beyond thinking. “I promise I won’t hate you in the morning.” Gods he felt so wonderful, she thought, enjoying the feel of supple muscle. “Besides, I’m only a little drunk, and I let you know well before I started drinking I was interested in you.”
“I doubt Caius will approve.” He commented, snaking a hand beneath her tunic to enjoy soft flesh.
“Caius can go jump in the lake for all I care.” The Breton told him, lifting up only long enough to remove her shirt. She was a grown woman after all. “Besides, weren’t you quitting the Blades?”
He didn’t answer, kissing her deeply instead. His mouth and tongue soon coaxed her into panting for breath, her skin alive with need. A low moan escaped his throat, the vibration of his chest throbbing against her hands. Sliding hands lower, she caught the edge of his trousers to pull them off, only now aware he’d managed to kick his boots at some point. Once removed, he assisted her in removing the rest of her clothing before moving back to lie against her.
She’d never heard much in the way of boasting from Elven men and their attributes, though she’d heard how the Wood Elf males were somehow lacking, but certainly not this elf. Briefly she wondered if perhaps he wasn’t mixed with another race, or perhaps he was just a fine example of the male Dunmer.
“Lirirmaer...” he murmured softly, causing her to tense. It sounded too much like someone else’s name. Saber noted her reaction, laughing in a throaty sultry tone. “It means lovely one in Altmeri.”
Snorting in disgust, Eiryn tried to brush his compliment aside. The elf pulled back, looking down at her with a questioning look. “You do not think yourself as beautiful?” He seemed genuinely surprised, and that wonderful smile of his spread over his face when she didn’t answer him. Trailing fingers along her jaw, he touched lips with tender affection. “You should, you know. You have very pretty eyes, and I love your smile-.”
What a rogue! “You talk too much.” Eiryn murmured, shutting him up by drawing his face closer to hers and, pressing her tongue to explore his mouth with a hungry kiss. Drinking him in, his sudden ardor surprised her. This Dunmer’s touch could leave a woman weak in the knees!
Saber’s fingers trailed down her throat to begin exploring her body. Arching against him, she felt her nerve endings drawn raw, eager for every stroke, every touch, almost trembling with need she hadn’t thought possible. Did elves bear special magick to their lovemaking?
His fingers had roamed to her nether regions, and unabashedly, Eiryn spread legs. Breathing deepening, turning into gasps of someone almost drowning in the waves of pleasure he gave her.
“Eager are we?” He murmured with a seductive chuckle. He didn’t wait for her reply, covering her mouth with his own in another drawn out kiss, continuing to fondle her sensitive areas until she felt as though she would faint.
When the kiss ended, she had enough of his soft caresses, and pressed hands against his chest to position him to lie back on the bed. His face pinched into humored confusion, which she promptly ignored.
“Gods woman…” He whispered when she moved over him. His voice strangled against a low groan. Her lips and tongue began working their way from his mouth, to the smooth column of his throat, to his chest. The dark stormy gray of his skin contrasted with her tawny hue, and she admired his handsome form. His own breathing quickened, almost shaking in anticipation with what she had in mind. The mix of his eager desire, and sound of his moans titillated her senses.
Moving lower, Eiryn admired the toning of his abdominals, further defined when he flinched and knew what she intended. Using lips and tongue she took command, progressing to tease and coax him into well defined hardness.
He nearly trembled, his breath coming in sharp short gasps until she took him in her mouth. Taking her time, she began to run up and down his marvelous organ, enjoying the sounds he made he attempted to keep control. His fists clenched sheets, and his back arched. A throaty groan escaped, and she thought he might be overcome.
“No more…” He gasped, moving to push her away. “Not...yet.”
“Now who’s eager?” Eiryn smirked, never receiving a response as he pulled her up on top of him. One hand gripped the nape of her neck to pull her into a fierce and passionate kiss. Gods he felt magnificent, she thought, moving hips to allow him access to her.
Saber made a noise in his throat, startled with finding her moving into position. She finally drew back to catch her breath, having to drape hair over her shoulder before it fell forward into his face. He smiled up at her, reaching with hands to brush the tangles from her face. “You are so beautiful…” He whispered.
I bet he says that to all his women, she thought. Finally having enough of foreplay, she shifted position and easily slid down upon him. He nearly bucked beneath her, before releasing a lungful of air and letting her take control.
Never having given such power before, Eiryn began to simply enjoy him. Taking her time to move hips into a rhythm and swooning with the pleasure it brought her. Before too long, the pace quickened, and a fine layer of sweat gleamed on both of them. Lips tasted of salt when lips touched, and the ardent moans she drew up from him only rebounded her own desires.
Yes, he enjoyed this, Eiryn thought smiling down at him, his eyes closed. Trying to control himself, the Dark Elf remained prone, clenching teeth when she began to quicken the pace further. “You’ll be… the death of me...’ He breathed, again balling fists in the sheets to either side of him. His body was nearly rigid with effort to hold back.
Leaning down, she paused long enough to kiss him, feeling an almost desperate grip of his arms when she did so. Propping her hands to either side of his head, she then began to move vigorously, and soon felt a well of desire gripped her spine and a shudder of climax soon followed. Saber cried out as he came soon after.
Exhausted, Eiryn fell against him, enjoying the feel of his sweat mingling with her own, and the gasping breath of his chest moving up and down. His heart thundered against her palm still resting on his chest.
“Dear gods…” He said in a hoarse whisper. “That was …incredible.”
She giggled, shifting position to lie next to him and enjoy the aftermath of the crest of pleasure. Yes it certainly was…she mused to herself. Goosebumps crawled over her skin as sweat made the room suddenly cold.
Out of consideration, Saber drew up the sheets, kissing her on the top of her head as he settled beside her. Part of her expected him to now roll over and sleep. Instead, he seemed not at all interested in ending the night so soon. “Am I not an adventure?” He said, and she could tell the mirth being held back in his voice.
“Alright, I will grant you that.” She told him with a giggle. “You are more fun that battling vicious nix hounds.”
“And was I not a challenge?” He continued his teasing.
She looked up at him, seeing the mischievous glint in his glorious eyes. ““A challenge to get into bed? Hardly.“
Saber was trying not to laugh, and feigned indignation. “But its true.” He insisted, “I resisted your wonton affections-“
”For all of five minutes.” She finished for him.
“I think it was longer than that.” He replied thoughtfully.
“No,” She assured with a smug look, “It just seemed longer.”
“Perhaps you’re right.” He readily agreed, tightening the arm around to give her a hug. “But at least I tried.”
She stifled a chuckle, knowing damn well his attempt, as he called it, had been an act. Or was it? Would he have followed thru if she hadn’t taken the initiative? No matter, she smiled to herself, snuggling against him. She was glad she did.
“So tell me.” Saber murmured softly, “Do you think you’ve learned anything of my lessons?”
Poking him in the ribs, Eiryn took some pleasure of his flinching as if ticklish. “If anything, I taught you a thing or two.” She said, then cast him a mischievous grin. “And I would daresay you still owe me.”
Arched brows rose up, soon followed by his softening expression. “Ah, I see I’m in for a long night then?”
She looked at him sharply, wondering if he meant it. Other men she had were finished the one time. His slow lazy smile was answer enough, and the young scout wondered how much sleep either of them would get that night.