Chapter Eight
Eskil woke to the slow rhythm of rocking in the saddle at a gentle walk. He slowly opened his eyes, squinting at the blinding afternoon light. He looked around, trying to learn his whereabouts. He was riding his horse who was lazily walking and following Libelle’s stallion. His wrists were bound with cloth and he was tied to the saddle horn. His head was throbbing, his lip sore and he licked over a small cut. He stretched his neck, looking at Libelle who either had not realized he had woken or chose to ignore him.
Her hair was tied up in a loose bun on the top of her head, but several long strands were still floating in the breeze. She was wearing her long ebony colored leather jacket, the sleeves covering her arms and wrists. He couldn't see her expression, but she was riding comfortably in her saddle while munching on a thin slice of bread.
The sun was high in the sky, indicating it was early afternoon. The sky was bright blue, with only a few clouds floating above. There were dark clouds to the west however indicating that rain would be coming later in the evening. They were riding through a dense forest while traveling downhill. He could hear a variety of birds chirping around them, yet could not see them. Several deer grazed by a small stream, but as they passed by their heads shot up and their alert ears faced forward. In seconds they were darting across the stream into the safety of the forest.
They approached a cross in the road where Libelle paused to read scribbled words on rotting wood posts. She stared for a moment, then looked left and turned her horse down the stone path. She glanced up at the sky with narrowed eyes, before clicking her tongue and her horse sped up to a trot. His followed suit, clumsily plodding along her smoother moving horse.
He grunted, “Where are you taking me now Libby?”
She glanced back at him, “Oh you’re awake now are you? Enjoy your rest?”
He forced a sarcastic smile at her. “I would have enjoyed it more if my head was not pounding as if I had been struck by a falling boulder.”
She snorted at him, but that was it. Her eyes were tired, dark circles beneath them from being awake the entire night. She wanted to sleep herself, but they didn't have the time. The sky to the west was growing darker with thick storm clouds, the air was cooling and the breeze had been increasing in speed throughout the morning. By midafternoon, they would be caught in a heavy downpour. The way the air crackled with the incoming storm, it was bound to be a bad one. There was an inn nearby and she wanted to reach it before the rain started, they had maybe two or three hours before they’d be in the middle of a downpour. The inn was out of their way, but it was better than being out in the open in a storm.
She heard Eskil grumble a curse behind her, glancing back she saw him picking at the cloth binding around his wrists. She mentally laughed, enjoying that he wasn't enjoying himself. She looked him up and down, his feet dangling near the stirrups and his wrists tied to the saddle. His tan skin revealed his flexing muscles in his arms as he argued with the crafty and skilled knot. His thick brows were narrowed, his square jawline taut as he fidgeted with the knot. His black shoulder-length hair was floating in his face, blocking his vision with each gust of wind. She looked up at his horns protruding from his head with a frown, she needed to hide those before they reached the inn. Most inn keepers would think he's some sort of devil and turn them away from a room, even if she had the coin.
Libelle reached behind her, rummaging through her saddle bags. She knew she had a hooded cloak stuffed in one of them, but where was it? She rarely wore it, but she swore she had brought it with her. She pulled out a few tonics from the bag, then smiled when she found the cloak stuffed in the bottom of it.
She slowed her horse and steered it towards his horse, leaning over and cutting his bonds with her dagger. Eskil glared up at her, a blood streak on his brow and lip. She handed him the cloak and he simply stared at it.
“Put that on.” She said.
He grumbled, but unfolded the wool material and released the steel clasp before wrapping the long cloak around his shoulders. “Why must I wear this?”
“There is a storm coming.”
He rolled his eyes with a grumble. “I do not fear the rain Libby.”
“I assumed that. We are going to an inn for the night. It is several miles from here, but I am hoping to reach it before the storm arrives.”
Humph. “To me it sounds like you're afraid of the rain.”
She ground her teeth together. “Not afraid of it, but I don't see any pleasure coming from spending the entire night exposed in the rain. Especially after last evening.”
He shrugged. “I suppose that makes sense. But it still does not answer why I need to wear,” He lifted the material and scowled at it. “-whatever this thing is. It smells awful.”
Libelle laughed at his expression, “It has been stuffed in my saddle bag for weeks. Of course it doesn’t smell good. You need to wear it while in public at the inn, otherwise the inn keeper may turn us away. I’d very much like sleeping in a dry bed with the upcoming weather.”
He snickered, “So if I don't wear it we will be turned away?”
“If you don't wear it, you can sleep in the barn with the livestock. I will enjoy a warm, dry bed; a hot meal by the fire, and I can listen to the bard's play.”
That didn't sound pleasant to him in anyway. If he were not bound to her in this situation, he would gladly find a large cave to rest in. Instead, he was stuck in this frail body. He grumbled, lifting the hood over his head; hiding his horns beneath the oversized hood. The material was low over his face, blocking part of his vision. He lifted the material again, adjusting it so he could see clearly.
Libelle spoke over her shoulder to him. “We should reach the inn shortly, it's down this path and a few miles to the south.”
She hoped they would reach it before the storm arrived. Libelle clicked her tongue again, urging her horse forward to a slow trot before her heels tapped its sides and it moved into a lope. He gripped his horse's reins as it lurched forward to keep up with her stallion.
Libelle handed the reins of both horses to the stable boy who hurriedly led them to the large stables, running through the mud and deep puddles as heavy rain beat down on them. She led Eskil, still hooded beneath her cloak, up the stairs and to the door of the inn. She opened the oak door and they both stepped into the warm inn.
Patting down her pants, they looked around the half full inn. Several men and women sat at the tables around the dining area, a large fire was built at the head of the room and a delicious smelling stew was cooking in a large kettle. A few of the men turned to stare at the new arrivals before returning to their conversation and their drinks. Libelle gestured for Eskil to follow her, and she walked across the room to the counter at the far end of the inn.
The burly looking man at the counter was polishing plates while talking to a younger, attractive woman. “I need you to fetch clean water, and some food from the cellar. We only have one more room available for the night, and by the look of this weather we are bound to have some wet rat scurrying in to purchase it. Clean up the room for me alright, Amelia?”
She nodded at him, taking a large pitcher from beneath the counter and shuffled down the stairs behind the counter. Libelle approached the counter, lightly tapping the wood to get the man's attention. He turned to look at her with a round, but well-shaped face. His brown eyes narrowed, and his rough voice a grumble as he spoke.
“What do you want elf?”
She smiled at him, the expression forced. “I’d like to purchase that last room for the night. My companion and I would like to stay dry tonight.”
He grunted. “You have the coin?”
“I do.”
He stared at her for a moment, never pausing as he cleaned another dish. Then he glanced at Eskil who looked incredibly suspicious with the hood shadowing half of his face. He seemed to be thinking it over, his expression was tense and he seemed like he was going to tell them to leave. Libelle pulled several gold coins from her coin purse, setting them on the counter before the man. He smiled, collecting the coin and placing them beneath the counter.
“Alright, the room is yours. Up those stairs, second door on the right. There is stew by the fire if you get hungry.” He handed her a small bronze key for the room.
“Thank you.” She nodded at the man and took the key he offered. “I’d be willing to give you more coin, if you have someone who wouldn't mind jogging to the store for some dry clothing for my companion and me? We had a run in with a few bandits, and our clothes are not in a very pleasant condition.”
He looked her up and down, noting each hole in her pants and her torn cotton shirt beneath her leather coat. Then at Eskil whose wool pants were filled with holes and covered in dirt. “How much coin are you offering?”
She collected more coin from her purse, placing them in his open palm. He looked down at them, and chuckled. “I’ll have the stable boy come find you to get a list of what you need.”
“Thank you.”
She turned and guided Eskil up the stairs, around a corner and down a narrow hallway with one side being a weak looking railing. She inserted the key into the door, twisting it and opening a fairly spacious room. She stepped in and closed the door behind them both. Sighing, she stretched her arms upwards.
She pulled off her boots, then her jacket and hung it up on a coat rack near the door. Eskil stood in the corner of the room silently watching her, as she rubbed her stiff neck. There was a knock at the door and she turned to answer it, opening it there stood the young stable boy: drenched by the rain.
“Excuse me miss, the inn keeper sent me. He said you need me to run an errand for you?”
“Ah, yes. I need you to run to the general store and fetch me a few things. Do you have paper, some ink and quill?”
He nodded at her, rushing down the hallway and returning with what she asked. She took a moment and scribbled out a long list of supplies, he read them back to her and then darted down the stairs. Libelle shut the door again, and turned around to Eskil who was staring out the window.
“You can take off that cloak now. As long as you're in the room you don't need it on.”
She sat down on the bed, running her fingers through her long wet hair to try and detangle the knots. Eskil remained still at the window, staring out into the dirt street in front of the inn. He watched the young stable boy dart from the inn, and across the street to a smaller building he assumed was the general store.
They sat silently in the room for several minutes, Libelle combing through her hair and Eskil staring at nothing through the window. He watched at the boy darted back out across the street, now carrying a large sack that he shielded from the rain. When he ran out of his line of vision, there was only seconds before they heard another knock at their door. Libelle stood up again, opening the door and allowing the stable boy to enter the room. He set the large sack down on the bed.
“I got everything on your list miss! Is there anything else I can do for you?” He panted.
Libelle smiled gently, shaking her head. “No, thank you. Please take this, it's for you.”
She handed him a small leather pouch filled with coin, and his face beamed into a smile.
“Thank you miss! Thank you!”
The stable boy exited their room hastily, shutting the door as he left. Libelle walked to the bag he had brought, pulling out a set of clothing for the both of them. She set down a pair of wool pants and fresh cotton shirt for Eskil, as well as a pair of leather boots and heavy wool coat. She then placed a new pair of leather britches, as well as a cotton shirt. She removed a steel brush from the bag, then a sealed jar of honey and a fresh loaf of bread.
“Put these on.” She said to Eskil, pointing to the stack of clothing.
He left the window to look down at them, picking up the material and feeling its texture. He shrugged off the wet cloak, letting it fall to the floor before pulling the dirty shirt over his head. He stripped out of his torn shoes and pants, standing entirely nude before Libelle. She felt her cheeks flush, and turned away from him. Eskil was incredibly fit and very attractive. But she felt ashamed to stare at him the way she had.
He was tall, he had long legs and a long torso. His muscles were all well-defined, and he looked like a true warrior. His tanned skin was uncommon in the cool lands of Skyrim, the Nord’s were all pale in color with the lack of sun and warm weather. Her blush increased when she glanced over her shoulder, at the same time he turned and stepped into the wool pants. He chuckled when he caught her staring at him.
“See something you like Libby?” He asked sarcastically.
Her blush increased and she looked away again, crossing her arms and chewing on her lip. “Not at all.”
She listened as he finished dressing, waiting until she heard the creak of the bed before turning around. The shirt fit snugly across his chest, the material being stretched over his muscles. Even his pants fit tight across his thighs. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling on the leather boots. She waited against the wall until he stood up, shifting his weight in the boots.
“Stand here and turn around.” She said.
“Why?”
“Because I am going to change. I don't need you staring at me.”
Eskil walked towards her with a sadistic smile, but instead of standing where she had directed him to; he sat down in the cushioned chair, resting his feet on the wooden table before it.
“Whatever makes you comfortable, slayer.”
Libelle inhaled sharply, her shoulders rising with her annoyance as she glared at him. He was not going to look away. He knew it made her uncomfortable with him staring, so he was going to do so: the fiend. She looked away, releasing her held breath with a slow sigh.
Just pretend its Gaalin. You don't have any issue dressing with him in the room, the beast should make no difference. She heard him chuckle. Grrr, if I wouldn't raise an alarm I would beat you for this behavior! Get that smug grin off your face!
She sighed again, collecting and trying to calm herself. She needed to get out of her wet clothing unless she wanted to catch a cold, and there was no way she could peacefully make him look away. Not without causing a ruckus, surely if they made too much noise they would be forced to leave. Another sigh, this one of defeat.
Eskil fought another smile as he watched her stand for a moment longer. She was feeling incredibly uncomfortable, she felt nervous, and it thrilled him to see how much affect her could have on her: even in this form. She may not pale in the presence of his fangs, but she would still fear his stare.
He watched as she pulled her shirt over her head, her wet hair clinging to her back. She stretched the material, then hung it up alongside her coat. She combed through her hair again with the brush before she began to braid the long strands. He stared at her narrow waist that led up to her chest. He could see the faint outline of her ribs, her shoulder blades shifting beneath her skin as she swayed her hips side to side as she slid the leather down her long legs. She stepped from the pants, stepping to the side to grab the dry ones. He watched her thin, but fit calves flex as she slid the tight leather up towards her thighs. Her cheeks stopped the rising of her pants as she pulled on one side of the hem, then the other. She bounced on her toes twice before she was successfully able to pull them up.
She turned towards the candlelight at the corner of the room as she tied the narrow leather strings near her pubic bone, tightening them then knotting them. He glanced upwards at her slender stomach, then towards the pair of breasts that made his loins burn. Fighting the urge to look away for his own safety, he admired the full and round shape of them. Perfectly pink nipples perked from the cool air, peaked upwards as she lifted her arms into the sleeves of the oversized shirt. She pulled her braid from beneath the collar, twisting it over her shoulder as she turned to sit on the bed.
Eskil smile broadened as he stared at his handy work. The large scar that his talons had torn into her flesh three years before, any deeper and her throat would have been beyond repair. The scar was large and bold, starting at her collarbone and up her neck, ending along her jawline and ear. How he relished the memory, they had fought for hours and both were exhausted. That wound was the only reason she had retreated that day, and her retreat was not her choice. The damned grey skinned elf nearly threw her off the cliff to save her, all the while she fought him to try to strike him down. It was a fond memory of his.
Libelle blew into her hands while sitting on the bed, she wasn't looking at him but gazing out the window like he had been earlier. He noticed the pinkish blush at the tip of her pointed ears, her cheeks flushed but the color not as dark as before. Her long lashes fluttered as she blinked.
“It’s early.” She said.
“Early for what?”
She shrugged, “In the evening. It won't be nightfall for a few more hours, it just seems early to be sitting and doing nothing.”
He mimicked her shrug. “Sleep then.”
Her eyes darted towards him and she gave him a suspicious look. “I’d rather not, not now at least. I feel like you're up to something, and you’ll try something fiendish again.”
He flashed her a wicked smile, revealing his sharp canines for effect. He rested his head back on the cushioned chair, making note of how comfortable the feather stuffed furniture felt on his backside. His horns tapped the wood wall behind him, and he shifted his weight to slide down into the chair. His legs crossed each other on the footrest, and he sighed.
“If you won't sleep, I will.”
She eyed him wearily, seeming to be waiting for him to try something. Instead she heard a faint snore. She shrugged, laying back on the comfortable bed and closing her eyes as well. A few hours of rest would be good for her.
Eskil sat in the chair for most of the evening, getting up occasionally to stretch his aching body and to harass Libelle as she wrote in a leather bound book. His presence while she was writing seemed to distract and frustrate her, she’d swat her hand at him if he leaned too far over her shoulder.
She had left the room once, returning with large bowls filled with savory stew. Reluctantly she gave him one, both eating in silence and enjoying the soft meat; fresh potatoes, carrots, and a salty broth. She returned to her leather book shortly after, staying nose deep until the room was dark and the only light being a single candle stick. She sighed heavily, glancing at the half burnt candle stick: opening a drawer and retrieving a fresh one, then lighting it and placing it on another stand.
She closed the book, twisting leather strapping around the pages before stretching her arms towards the ceiling. She had dark circles under her eyes, darker than they were in the afternoon. Despite her earlier rest, she didn't feel nor look anymore refreshed. Standing up she kicked off her slippers before lifting the green quilted blanket that covered the feather stuffed mattress. She didn't say anything to Eskil as he watched her slid under the blanket, rolling onto her side where she faced the wall.
He waited, the candle light flickering in his eyes as he listened to her breathing slow and deepen. She had fallen asleep, but he didn't dare move until she was in a deeper sleep. The blankets rose and fell with each breath, her body twitching at random moments as her mind settled into a deep slumber.
An hour later she rolled onto her back, one hand settling across her chest and the other near her cheek. The blankets moved with her, twisting around and shifting around her waist.
Eskil stood up, stepping lightly across the room and avoiding the creaking floorboards he had earlier found. He stopped at the edge of the bed, staring down at her. She looked peaceful in her sleep, the stress in her expression was gone and she seemed to finally be relaxed in her dreamland. He lowered himself onto the bed, sitting next to her before lightly stroking her cheek and brushing her blonde hair from her face. A light and drowsy moan escaped her lips as his fingers tickled her skin, her head turned away from his touch.
Libelle, He whispered, his words rough on his lips. None of this makes sense to me. Here I am, stuck in the form of a pathetic mortal. At your mercy, and I couldn't be happier. I have not had this much pleasure in anyone's company for over a thousand years, and it makes no sense to me. I hate you, but the longer I am by your side: the more I grow to like you.
He sighed heavily, cupping her cheek in his hand and rubbing his calloused thumb over her lower lip. He lowered himself over her, pressing his lips against her forehead. “Good night, my little elf.”
Slowly pushing himself up from the soft mattress, he turned and walked towards the door. Opening it as quietly as he could before slipping out into the empty and dark hallway. He walked towards the railing, bending at his waist and resting his forearms on the aged oak banister. Another heavy sigh as his head sagged, his thoughts fleeing about rampantly in his mind. He didn't understand the feelings and emotions Libelle was causing him, the only answer he had to the cursed sentiments was the damned spell she had cast over him. It was the only conclusion that he could attempt to make sense of. That, or he was losing his mind.
He groaned, rubbing his temples and closing his eyes as he mulled over his thoughts. The inn was dark, all of the tenants had turned in for the night and returned to their individual rooms. The foyer that had been lit with a large fire was now black and eerie, a mouse could be heard scurrying across the floor boards. He rested his head on his arms, and stood there silently: waiting for time to pass by.
“Ah!”
Eskil’s eyes shot opened as he heard an unfamiliar noise, he raised his head and looked around the second floor. Despite the blackness of the inn, his dragon-like eyes could still pierce the darkness. He didn't see anything on the second floor, but he heard the high pitched noise again. He leaned over the railing, looking down onto the main floor and glancing about the rows of tables. Nothing.
The noise echoed again, he looked towards the inn keeper's desk at the far end of the room. Leaning back against the counter was the young working girl, her blouse was wide open exposing her small breasts and her skirt was pulled up over her legs. She held the material of her skirt, her chest rising and falling as she panted with another high pitched gasp. He squinted his eyes when he saw the middle-aged inn keeper kneeling before her, his head by her pelvis. He watched the man use his tongue and fingers to toy with the spot between her legs. Exciting high pitched gasps and moans from the girl.
He felt a knot form in his stomach as realization occurred to him of their act. They were mating. Loudly. In an area where anyone could spy upon them, like he was doing. He sighed again, pushing himself up from the railing and about to turn around and return to the room. He heard the girl’s lusty moan and curiosity, sadly got the best of him. He didn't know how mortals mated, and regretfully he wanted to know how the act was carried out. It’s not like he wanted to mate with Libelle, but if the opportunity presented itself, he wasn’t sure if he would decline to humiliate her in such a manner.
He stood behind a wooden beam, hiding in the shadows of the already dark room as he stared down at the couple. The man had lifted the girl onto the counter, her back bending at an awkward angle as the man's fingers moved between her legs. She cried out, and the man dropped his pants around his ankles before slamming his pelvis against hers. Another moan. His hips moved back and forth for seconds before he groaned, collapsing with quick breaths on her chest.
Eskil snorted. If this is how the mortals fuck, I want no part of it.
He turned on his heels, slipping back into the room where Libelle still slept. He returned to the chair he had spent most of the evening in, resting his back against the soft material. He closed his eyes and tried to rest, but his mind was awake and his thoughts were moving in circles. There was a flash of lightning, followed by a loud rumble of thunder. The rain began to fall heavier against the roof when the wind began to pick up speed. Outside it was howling with a torrential downpour, while in here it was relatively peaceful and warm.
He sighed, resting his head back while staring at the ceiling.
Sleep, he needed to sleep.