Bus Ride Fantasy

Skyrim FanFiction, Skyrim Erotica, and More

Tea and Hard Truths

swamo 2

READ THE PREVIOUS STORY

“You’re certain?” Beyte asked.

“No. That’s what I’ve been telling you. Akavarin tore my soul out and flung my body into a pit. I had to crawl all the way down there and then squeeze my way back into my own corpse. Any idea what that feels like?”

Narova crossed her arms, shuddering a little at the feeling of the silk moving along her flesh. All of her senses were ignited and her whole body felt like a giant clit someone had been licking for half an hour.

“Not exactly,” Beyte admitted.

“Well, it fucking hurt. And my head was a little cloudy when I finally got myself up into the antechamber. The purple water had already started to fill the cavern, but I remember seeing a headless body in Deadric Armor. Looked like someone had blown the head off.”

“I don’t believe it,” Beyte said.

Garland the Green approached from behind and handed the Dunmer a small ceramic mug of tea. All three of them had gone back inside his sparse cabin to talk things over, and Garland had been unwavering about the need for everyone to have a cup of tea. Personally, Narova could have gone for a mug of ale. Or maybe an entire flagon. But tea would have to do.

“If you haven’t heard anything from your father after so long,” Garland said, “does it not make sense that he perished?”

Beyte shook her head. “I did not love my father, but you of all people should know that killing him would have been no simple thing. And anyway,” she took a small sip of the tea, “I haven’t heard from Willow, either. And he is most definitely alive.”

“How can you be so sure?” Garland asked.

“If I cut your cock off, you’d be pretty sure about its departure, am I right?”

Garland just scowled at that. Beyte turned back to Narova.

“What happened then?”

Narova shrugged. “More water. A lot more. I figured I’d managed to scrape my soul up and jam it back down inside my body just in time to get drowned. But the water wouldn’t touch me. It just kind of bubbled up around, hung me up in the middle. It was…what birth must be like.” She didn’t know how else to describe it.

“And the Geyser?”

Narova grunted. “If the water was like birth, that must be what it’s like for a guy to blow his load all over a whore’s face.” She slid her eyes over to Garland.

“I couldn’t speak to that sort of experience, I’m afraid.” And he seemed truly sorry.

“You certainly have a way with words, Narova Black Hair,” Beyte said. “And yet, I am not getting much value from them. You say my father is dead, which I do not believe—”

“All I said is that I saw a man with an exploded head wearing Deadric Armor. Don’t know anything about dead wizards or the Nerevaruckus.”

“Nevevarine,” Beyte corrected.

“Whatever.”

The Dunmer sighed. Took another sip of tea. “This has been less productive than I had hoped.”

“You have no idea how deeply that upsets me,” Narova said.

There was a long, awkward silence.

“Perhaps you should teach her to use it?” Garland said softly.

Beyte glared at him. “Perhaps you should stick to brewing tea and making clothes from swamp life. She is not…mature enough to handle the power.”

“Look, grayskin,” Narova said, “You have about as good a grasp on my capabilities as a skeever does on spells of paralysis.”

“That so?” Beyte raised an eyebrow. “I know that you’ve fucked or killed a frightening majority of the people you’ve met in this world. I know that Astrid took you in because she needs someone as bloodthirsty as she is ambitious. And I know that Festus Krex trained you in Illusion and Alteration—both of which you have rather extraordinary skill with.”

She leaned in a little closer and whispered the next part.

“And I know that you can’t cast a spell right now any more than you can feel remorse for the nightmare of a person that you’ve become.”

Narova shifted a bit, uncomfortable at the accuracy of all those statements, especially the last one. Why had her magic not returned?

“Fair enough,” Narova said. “Bit more than a skeever, I suppose.”

“Much more.” Beyte sighed. “I suppose that it would be a waste of effort to give you the tattoos and then not teach you how to use them, though.”

She stood.

“First things first, we need to get you out of that silk and into something better suited for mayhem.”

Advertisements

One comment on “Tea and Hard Truths

  1. Pingback: The First Dead Fox | Bus Ride Fantasy

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Information

This entry was posted on June 5, 2013 by in Skyrim Fiction, Tales of Narova Black Hair and tagged , .
%d bloggers like this: