The Legate stared at the general in frustration. It was bad enough that the Legion had sent an Imperial to Skyrim to deal with Ulfric’s uprising, but to send a man so callous, so apathetic as this aging general was adding insult to injury to those who had called Skyrim home. He knew nothing of the Nords ways and walked all over their beliefs. She saw quickly that he had underestimated the situation here, with him thinking that those loyal to Ulfric were slow in mind and acted without thought. He had quickly realized his mistake at Darkwater Crossing when his carefully planned ambush did not go as smoothly as he had anticipated. Both sides had suffered heavy casualties and despite the Legion had outnumbered the rebels three to one, the insurgents fought as if they had held the advantage. Tullius had seen the power of Ulfric’s Thu’um firsthand that day as the jarl Shouted a group of Legion soldiers across the field. It was only Ulfric’s surprising surrender that had prevented a massacre. The blasted war would be over now if that damn dragon had not shown up at that very moment.
“And what about that traitor of yours?” the general grumbled. “He’s hardly given us any meaningful information in nearly a year’s time! Why am I wasting the Empire’s time and gold housing and feeding this man if he’s got nothing to give in return?”
Rikke forced herself to remain calm. “Sir, Appius has promised me that he will have more pertinent information come the morning.”
“That skeever hasn’t given us any information of any value since Darkwater Crossing! He better have something tomorrow or he’ll be moved from his sanctuary here in Castle Dour down to the cells!”
Rikke nodded as she watched the man storm out of the room. Alone in the room, she shook her head. She stared at the map before her, the multitude of flags marking territory held becoming a blur in her vision as memories of a time long past floated to the consciousness of her mind. War does funny things to a person; it changes people, sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worse. Some people could go back to their lives with seemingly no effect at all, while for others they were never the same again.
War had molded her into the officer she was how, but the war they fought today was not the same as the war that had made her. The war of yesteryear bore the seeds of the war they found themselves in now, the seeds flourishing by the constant deluge of xenophobia from those resentful of the Aldmeri Dominion.
Sighing she made her way out of the war room and toward her own quarters. Long gone were the days of her youth when she fought alongside the men she now called her enemies, back when she trusted them with her life rather than knowing they’d strike her down dead as quickly as she would them. She recalled the camaraderie she had felt with the future jarl and his best friend, the bonds that they had formed, and she remembered with clarity and pain the dissolution of those ties.
She had seen Ulfric slowly changing as the war had progressed, his soul hardening as each battle was fought and as more of his brothers and sisters fell to the magic of the elves. His transformation into the iron-fisted ruler was complete when he escaped his imprisonment at the hands of the Thalmor. Gone was any semblance to the playboy son of the jarl of Windhelm, gone was any hope of a peace between the Nords and the elves. He was as cold as the frozen stone bricks that his city was built with, the blood that ran through his veins, ice cold as the waters that edged the city.
But Galmar, she had not seen his transformation into who he was now. She had been too close to him to see it. She had believed, foolishly, that her bedding him nightly was endearing him to her, that the words of love he had uttered to her all those lust filled nights were from his heart instead of his loins. Her realization that his loyalty was to his friend and not the Empire was only one of many into who the man she had given her virtue to really was. She had been able to salvage her career before Galmar and Ulfric’s actions had destroyed it and she swore from that point on that she would never let anyone close like that again.
Now, after all these years, she had to face her former friend and her former lover. She dared not tell the general of her past with them; she wanted nothing more than to see the men in irons and made to pay for their crimes against the Empire but she wanted to leave that page of her past exactly where it was, in the past.
She entered her quarters; she began to unclasp her armor and remove it. The fire in her quarters had been built up, making it warm on this particularly cold night. An evening meal sat upon her table in the next room, a full jug of wine within reach; her stomach rumbled at the sight as she remembered that she had barely eaten this day. She set her armor on a chair, removed her boots and left them by the chair then walked toward the table, intent on feeding her exhausted body.
She crossed the threshold of the room. From the corner of her eye she saw the closed fist coming at her right before she felt the impact against her jaw. She stumbled back a step, touched her lips with her fingertips and gazed at her bloody fingers. She lifted her eyes at her assailant and smiled.
The Orc leered at the woman before him, the sight of her bloodied lip exciting him. “Bitch,” he snarled as he backhanded her. “You sent me to a fucking shithole!”
Rikke smiled at him even broader, licking the blood from her lip. “So what if I did?”
“You just wanted to anger me, didn’t you, bitch?”
“Why send my best men when I can send in a barbarian like you?” she sneered. “What does it matter to you? You’re paid well for what you do, Orc.”
He grabbed ahold of her hair, twisting it hard in his grip as he pulled her to him. “Is that what you call it? I do your dirty work and you throw me some gold and tease me with that ass of yours?” At her licking her lips, he smiled. “You just want my Orc cock in you, don’t you, slut?” She licked her lips again, a smile on her face. He let go of her hair and began to undo his pants. “Yeah, you better believe you’re going to pay me good for that last job. I’ve been looking forward to tapping that pretty little ass of yours again.” He stood before her, his monstrous prick beginning to grow hard. “Show me how much you love my Orc cock.”
She dropped to her knees and took him into her mouth. Even at a semi-flaccid state she struggled to fit him all beyond her moist lips. She cupped his balls with one hand, massaging them as she sucked on his throbbing muscle, causing him to close his eyes, a guttural moan coming from his lips. His hips slowly rocked back and forth as her oral ministrations hardened his dick.
After a few moments, he pulled her off him. His dick stood fully erect and throbbed. “Show me what a bitch you are,” he demanded. She immediately bent down on all fours, her ass to him. “Good girl,” he said as he stood behind her, his hands rubbing her ass cheeks roughly. He grinned as he slammed his long, thick finger in her asshole ang began to finger fuck her sphincter. She rocked back and forth, moaning as his finger kept plunging into her dark hole. “You want me in your ass, don’t you, slut?”
Her head bobbed up and down.
“Prove it,” he ordered.
She slammed her ass against his hand harder, begging him, “Fill my hole with your cock.”
He pulled his finger out and spread her cheeks. He spit on the hole and without hesitation slammed himself into her ass. She cried out as his imposing size crammed its way up her ass. She begged for more. She begged for him to pound her harder. She begged for him to fuck her faster. Soon she was panting like a dog in heat as her climax neared and overcame her. The floor beneath her suddenly became wet as her juices burst forth as the Orc buried his dick deeper in her with each stroke.
A low rumble came from his chest as he suddenly pulled out of her, flipped her violently onto her back and pumped his dick with his fist twice before he came over her naked breasts and down her stomach. His cum was thick as it pooled on her body and he watched as she began to rub it into her skin, bringing her fingers to her lips every so often, sucking the sticky juices off her fingers.
Neither one of them saw the shadow moving along the ledge outside of her window as Meliandra crept quietly by as she sought the traitor Appius.
The room was dark, candlelight flickering against the walls as the wood in the hearth snapped as the flames licked it. Appius sat at his table listening to his contact as she paced his room. “this is the time to act, Appius,” she stated firmly. “He hasn’t been the same since he was ambushed at Darkwater Crossing. He has not left Windhelm since his return and he rarely ventures outside of the Palace. His capture did something; he’s been so preoccupied with what happened he doesn’t even have any desire to fuck his favorite wenches.”
He snorted. “What a shame.”
She glared at him, her green eyes narrowed to slits. “I don’t see you debasing yourself for the cause.”
“What? Staying locked in this castle day in and day out isn’t enough for you?”
“You’re taken care of, aren’t you? Stop complaining, Appius.”
“When I agreed to this foolish plan of yours, it was with the understanding that I would be a free man and not locked up like some skeever in a cage.”
She smiled at him. “Well, you’re not locked up in a cell, now are you?” She flipped up the hood on her cloak, shielding her face. “I have to return to Windhelm before I am missed. You get that information to the general as soon as possible. The Legion will end this war once we dispose of Ulfric and then we will have everything we ever dreamed of.”
He watched as the woman stalked out of his room and after a moment he threw a tankard against the door. “Bitch,” he swore under his breath.
He stood up, intent on going to bed. Rikke would come see him in the morning and he’d tell her the new information then. Maybe he could plead with her for some freedoms, anything that would put an end to his monotonous days.
That’s when he saw the tankard rising off the ground. He watched as it levitated through the air until it was in front of one of the windows and it crashed onto the floor. He saw the woman on the windowsill but before he could raise the alarm, a ball of light hit him, causing him to fall back, his words frozen in his throat as the paralyze spell took effect.
A moment later he saw the young Breton smiling down at him as she said, “Your presence has been requested by the Jarl of Windhelm.”