Her blood sung to him from across the inn; it was a beautiful sound only he could hear. Its voice was sweet, like a lover calling him to bed. He watched her flitting around the inn, the social butterfly she was, flirting with the sailors for a little extra coin. True to her name, she was a wicked little thing, bringing some of those sailors to her room where sounds of sex would soon follow. He had tried on more than one occasion to bring her home with him, but she had always turned him down. He had seen her coming out of the cook’s room late at night on occasion and it was then that he begun to hear her blood calling to him, caressing his ears of promises to be the solution to his problem so he could fulfill his destiny to become the most renown wizard to have ever lived.
He smiled to himself as he watched Susanna flirt with a young sailor at a table in the corner, but he knew she wouldn’t be with him all night. She had been going to the Temple nightly as of late; he knew this night would be the night he took his prize. With a growing anticipation, he waited until she walked out of the sailor’s room and headed toward the door. Leaving a few minutes later, he made his way causally to the Temple of Talos, staying to the shadows. He did not know how long she would stay tonight, but he intended to wait until she left. He would not be denied his prize tonight.
She removed the robes she had donned when she began interrogating Mila. They were marked with blood, the sickly-sweet smell permeating her nose. As she took a rag and wet it to wash off the blood smears on her own body, her mind replayed the images of things that had transpired less than an hour before. For all of Mila’s acts of bravery, the woman broke easily once Meliandra started using torture of a more physical nature than the water torture she had seen used by the Thalmor during their interrogations. It had not taken long to discover that Mila had long planned to attempt to get close to Ulfric for the sole purpose of leading him to his death. Upon further questioning, she had discovered the twisted reasoning.
She dropped the rag back into the wash basin, Mila’s words echoing in her ears. She was aware that she was going to have to inform the jarl of what she had learned, and this made her anxious. He was already angry and in a foul state of mind; recalling the look in his eyes when she had gone to him earlier, her anxiety grew. Here was a man who loathed disloyalty passionately, who ripped the disloyal out from amongst his numbers and thrust it into the cold without a glance back. And she was faced with being the one to inform him how disloyal one of his most cared for had plotted against him.
She sighed as she removed the rest of her clothing, leaving only her undergarments on. She swore under her breath about the draftiness of these ancient palaces as she felt a breeze caress her body. She walked to the fireplace in her room and began to stoke the fire; as she stared into the coals, she saw things that had happened long before now, an old fear gnawing at the pit of her stomach. Memories that hid buried in the depths of her mind of a nightmarish childhood; words echoing in her ears reminding her of the accursed blood that flowed through her veins. She thrust the poker into a log, splitting it into chunks and causing embers to cascade out of the hearth, old pent up emotions threatening to take over.
“What’s wrong, beautiful?”
She spun around to see Ralof standing just inside her door, an impish grin on his face. The door shut with a click and she heard the distinct sound of the lock engaging. She smiled sweetly but with shadowed eyes. “Come to fuck more information out of me?”
“I won’t turn down a romp in the sheets with you but I’m not here to get information from you.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Curiosity.” He walked toward her as he began to loosen his clothing.
“Really? That often leads to trouble, soldier.”
“I’m discovering that trouble seems to go hand in hand with you.” He smiled, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he continued to her, stopping just within arms-reach of her. “Care to make some trouble, beautiful?” he asked as he let his clothes drop to the floor.
He stood silently in the shadows, unable to turn away and leave before he was seen. Once again, he found he could not tear his eyes away from the scene playing out before him.
He had not been able to control the need to see her, to observe her without her knowing that he was there. Something about her captivated his attention, something that grabbed ahold of him at random times and demanded his complete, undivided attention.
He watched as Ralof laid the Breton back upon the bed, the woman reaching up to kiss him before the soldier positioned himself between her legs, his erection visible. Meliandra grabbed ahold of the muscular thighs as Ralof entered her, a gasp escaping her lips. He felt his own erection growing as he watched the two fuck in the room just beyond his hiding spot there in the shadows. Try as he might, he could not avert his eyes and watched until the two were spent and had drifted off to sleep, leaving him the opportunity to retreat into his own chambers.