Impossible Love : An unofficial and adult tale

[SquallLion1]

Impossible love


Anonymous

The night has enveloped Tamriel with its starry mantle. Secunda also known as "Jone", the silver moon, exhibits its full form.
Cries of excitement spring from the arena. A few torches illuminate the stands.
The gladiator has just killed a boar. He shakes his claymore stained with blood. He knows that the show is just starting. The wild pig was just an appetizer. Of medium-sized tall, dressed in Dwarven cuirass, gloves and greaves, a hood similar to that of the famous Gray Fox one, the leader of the thieves guild, hides the top of his face: the shape and color of his hair is left to the imagination of the audience.

Roars emanate from the stalls; the grids open up. Two mountain lions emerge, jaws opened, and then move on either side of the arena onto their opponent.
The weapon drawn, the gladiator waits with caution: he guesses the trap. In a flash, a figure leaps onto his chest. He parries the blow with his raised blade and repels the third lion.
The audience greets the performance by screaming again.
The two other big cats roar in fury and attack: they jump in unison. The fighter dodges the first beast but the second one manages to snap up his left arm. Repressing his pain, he crushes his head with his sword pommel. As the big cat releases the pressure and he just has time to take his life off the cutting edge of the sword. The other one is already leaping. He parries again the attack with his claymore and tries to spot the third one. He understands that this one has bypassed him and is about to scratch his back. In a flash he twirls, accompanying his sword with one hand. The two animals pamper on the ground like dislocated puppets. The gladiator observes, kneeling on the ground, the beasts lying dead.
The spectators are jubilant.
The gladiator turns his head. His eyes express surprise. Far war, bars are shaking; a roar is pushed. A dry sound: the bars come out of their hinge and fly in the air. With a pirouette, the fighter narrowly avoids it. The steel grid shatters on the wall, writhing in various places.
In front of the stall, two disturbing lights pierce the darkness. The muzzle of the monster exhales steam; gigantic horns adorn its head; an arm armed with a warhammer appears and the hooves tread on the ground: a Minotaur Lord in his splendor.
The gladiator stands up and goes on the offensive: from the arm he emits a flare spell. Swift as lightning, the Minotaur avoids the fireball by lowering the bust and then load. Its head hits its opponent who flies like a bird. His back hits one of the central columns of the arena.
The Minotaur whirls its warhammer. The gladiator lowers his head. The hammer decapitates the column.
The audience expresses its fright.
The Lord Minotaur repeats the maneuver: his opponent avoids the blow that breaks the base of the column. A cloud of dust invades the space of confrontation.
The Minotaur stirs its head impatiently: it seeks its invisible adversary. A fireball pops up and hits its chest. The spell barely shook him and even excited its fury.
With its impressive weapon the beast operates a series of large reels at random. In vain. It only tears wind.
Suddenly, a blade tears the cloud: a slash bars the bare arm of the monster. Another attack shears its cheek. The Lord Minotaur utters a roar of pain and rage. Puddles of blood spur on the pavement.
The cloud disappears... The gladiator, holding his weapon with both hands, adopts a waiting posture.
The Minotaur charges while roaring. It swings its weapon brutally but imprecisely. The gladiator avoids each assault and retaliates successfully each time: he hurts the leg, the forehead, a shoulder...
The Lord Minotaur roars with anger. With a violent setback of its bare arm, it strikes his human adversary. This one loses his weapon and flies a second time in the air. He is received on the stomach, on the other side of the arena, at the foot of the disarticulated bars.
The Lord Minotaur drops its weapon and loads more towards its opponent.
The gladiator kneels down and watches the monster rush like a bull.
The monster utters an ultimate clamor and throws himself on its prey.
The gladiator grabs a tube from the grid and pivots it toward the beast. The tube pierces the monster's chest and emerges from behind. The paralyzed Minotaur stirs and whispers plaintively over a pool of blood.
The gladiator, with a slow step, retrieves his claymore, comes back to his opponent at the same pace. Then he brandies the blade high. He slices its head which is rolling on the ground.
The public shouts cries of joy. The announcer salutes the performance of the hero and proclaims another victory to the credit for The Divine Avenger.

In the stands, a countess talks to the officer at her side. They leave their table and head for the door that leads to the Arena Bloodworks, place of training and rest gladiators.
The place is humid and smelly: sweat and dirt coat the walls and camp beds are close to the stalls of creatures: tame wild boars.
The pale glow of the torches adds a macabre note to the atmosphere.
The bodyguard of the countess, placed in the lead, ensure the safety of her hierarchical superior. The curve of her body whose chainmail armor mold leaves no doubt about her sex: a young woman with a generous chest wearing the traditional silver longsword and a Bruma shield.


She operates a quick state of play. Reassured, she takes off her helmet: an imperial race, half-curly brown hair, whose a fringe bars an energetic forehead, frame a fine and pleasant face.
She nods to her mistress to instruct her to stay behind. Then she spots the Grand Champion's manager. Ysabel Andronicus, sitting in a corner. With a decided step she walks towards her.
"Good evening, Madam," she says, bowing her bust. "The Countess de Bruma would like to talk to The Divine Avenger. "
"Oh… But he's resting. I do not know ..."
"Please, ma'am. I have only one message to send him in fact. "
The battle matron of the Arena Bloodworks is studying her interlocutor for a long time.
"Alright," she breathes. "Be it short. He needs rest. I will go and get him."
The bodyguard thanks the matron for her indulgence by tilting her bust.
"Elhyse, is that you? "
Owyn, the Redguard blademaster, stands behind her.
"Yes, it's me," she says with a broad smile.
"Well, you grew up well, kid! But what are you doing here? Do Ya accompany the lady Carvain? "
"Indeed," she nods." I am her bodyguard."
"Oh, but it's because the kid has taken the lead! Do Ya will greet your parents from me?"
The Elhyse face becomes red.
"I've been an orphan for four years already," she murmurs in a timid voice.
"Oh, I'm sorry, kid, I did not know. I never leave that den you see," he says with his arms crossed.
Elhyse says that she understands and does not blame him for his clumsiness. That's when her hero appears. Her mind goes astray: she admires this slender figure, imagining contemplating in secret his naked musculature. She sees him already take her in his arms and whisper some sweet words...
"Miss, are you all right?"
Elhyse recovers. The Grand Champion, visibly amused, observes her with an interrogative air. He has a hoarse but weak voice. Perhaps it is to purposely respect etiquette when he talks to the nobility. Or, is it peculiar to his character? Elhyse rejects this hypothesis: it does not fit with his deeds.
"What do you want...?" He insists with a polite voice.
"Sir, Countess Narina Carvain would like to converse with you in her chateau," she says hastily.
" Me? But why lady…"
"The Countess would like to settle a private matter. She is counting on you. Tomorrow at 3 o'clock in the afternoon."
The Divine Avenger nods the countess.
"If it suits the countess, I'll be there," he says curtly.
"She thanks you for that."
As Elhyse prepares to leave, the Grand Champion calls her.
"Wait… What is your role here, miss?"
"Me? I'm just her bodyguard."
"Her bodyguard? The hero says massaging his chin. "Interesting ... And who keeps yours?"
Interlocked, Elhyse does not flinch. She escorts immediately the Countess.
Only the scent of the Countess testifies of her coming.
Owyn approaches the Grand Champion, with a smile in his face.
"Watch out, kid. I advise you to forget the damsel. She is a nice girl but she will bring you some trouble."
"I think alas that's already the case," the Divine Avenger concludes .


Bruma Castle stands on the western side of the city.
The guards patrolling the city greet with deference the Grand Champion, still dressed in his famous armor. A rumor tells that he would have freed Kvatch from daedric oppression.
The hero borrows the very long brown and gold carpet of Great Hall that leads to the throne by not failing to greet the two guards.
A Breton noble lady receives him. She introduces herself as Yvara Channitte and informs him that she is the private steward of the countess. Then, without further ceremony, she invites him to follow her. She guides him to the Dining Hall where the countess, seated at a very long table, is currently having tea.
The Champion trows a wink at Elhyse. The bodyguard, carrying the helmet and standing behind the finely carved chair of his mistress, remains motionless and pretends not to have noticed.
The Divine Avenger greets his host his host by tilting his bust.
"I thank you for your punctuality," says the Countess. "Will you have tea with us?"
The guest accepts the invitation in a polite tone and sits at the spot indicated to him by the steward.
During the service, Countess Narina Carvain discusses the ongoing war. Various cities of Cyrodiil promised their help to defend Bruma in sight of the Daedric invasion. She welcomed the fact that towns like Bravil or Anvil had already sent outposts. The Grand Champion remembers the posted tents on the edge of the castle guarded by soldiers wearing various uniforms.
During the snack, the young man observes stealthily the bodyguard who strives to imitate a statue, with failures. Her mimics, moreover, make him smile, which misunderstands the countess: she thinks that her guest is making fun of politics. The Grand Champion undeceives her by admitting to being distracted.
"It makes me think," continues the countess, "that I am confused about you; how should one call you?"
"The name of 'Grand Champion' suits me, Madam."
"Then you want to preserve your anonymity? You never remove this mask? Even in front of the court? "
"Yes, Madam. I have accounts to return only towards the Empire," The young man retorts. "Plus, I do not think you invited me to discuss politics. Am I wrong?"
"Certainly, certainly!" The countess wipes her lips with an embroidered napkin. "I will have a small service to entrust to you. You are the only worthy person I can trust."
"You flatter me, Madam. How can I help you?"
"I am looking for an ancient artifact belonging to the Akaviri Dynasty, the Draconian Madstone."
The Grand Champion puts down his cup, intrigued.
"To give you the reasons would be a very long story. But know that this jewel makes party of the inheritance of the city."
"I understand it perfectly and do you know where it is?"
"I am: in a ruin lost not far from Skyrim, in Pale Pass. My bodyguard will give you the documents you need for this quest. Of course, you will be paid accordingly. All service deserves pay!"
"It will be an honor for me to fulfill this task. I will be going there very soon."
"Bruma is grateful to you, dear Grand Champion." The countess says, getting up, assisted by Elhyse, who pulled out the chair. "But before taking leave in my apartments, you can inform me about a detail that arouses my curiosity."
"I'm all ears, Madam."
"Have not we already met? You are strangely familiar to me."
"I do not think so, Madam."
"Ah, everyone can be wrong. Elhyse will give you the papers soon."
The Grand Champion salutes the Countess by tilting his bust while the bodyguard hands him a parchment.
"It's a plan of access in Pale Pass," Elhyse says. "The starting point is at Dragonclaw Rock."
The Grand Champion pockets the parchment. Then, carefully observe his interlocutor.
"I am very surprised. Is not the bodyguard of the Countess a man?" He says.
"Certainly. I replace him off the cuff. He is suffering from a sudden illness. He does not leave the bed since yesterday."
The Grand Champion does not hide his astonishment.
"But are you in a position to protect the Countess? It is not a business of any rest. You seem to me fragile!" He adds.
Elhyse, red with anger, claims to be qualified for the position she has been entrusted with. But the hero claims that they are not words but acts that prove the facts.
"Since sir dares to pretend that I am weak, I am ready to prove my values!" The bodyguard says with conviction. "I challenge you, Mr. 'Grand Champion'."
"I try it," assures the hero, smiling. "Your schedule is mine."
"I have permission in two days. Your place will be mine"
"And why not the Anvil Fighters Guild Training Room?"
"In two days at five o'clock in the afternoon! Elhyse says eagerly. Then she moves away in an offended attitude.
The young man, with a smile on his face, admires the very feminine step of her rump.

The rays of the star of the day pierce the dense foliage of the forest. Elhyse, dressed in a white dress, observes with wonder this enchanting setting where everything seems unreal. She wanders barefoot on the fresh grass accompanied by cries of invisible birds to reach a vast clearing where a lake rests.
She sees a person bathing in it: she thinks she recognizes the back of the one who has conquered her heart. Deprived of his mask, it exposes a mid-length hair of charcoal color.
Elhyse's dress spreads out at her feet as well as her lace underwear: she penetrates the warm water of the expanse of water in her simplest device to the Grand Champion who continues his toilet. She gently lays her opulent chest on the back of the mysterious being by hugging his waist. This last one turns around with nonchalance. The young woman does not take her eyes off the skull of her hero: she will finally contemplate his features which, at first, plunged into darkness. The head pivots and plunges into a luminous aura: Elhyse sees with horror the face of a dread zombie…
She awakes in a start on her bed. She is soaked with sweat. Her nightgown sticks to her chest. Secunda casts a pale glow in his room.
The young woman lies down on her back while scrutinizing the ceiling: her breathing resumes a normal rhythm but sleep flees her...
A rooster screams at dawn.

 

 

The statue of the mysterious mermaid dominates the pond on the north side of Anvil.
It's raining cats and dogs. Elhyse, dressed in her military uniform, knocks on the wooden door of the Fighters Guild.
The Guild Porter, a middle-aged Imperial balding man, welcomes her with a polite smile. He informs her that he will be the witness of the “interview” between her and the divine Avenger. This one is standing in the lobby which also serves as a training room. The young woman greets her head while the Porter met on the sidelines to observe the progress of the case.
"Ready?" the Grand Champion asks.
The Bodyguard nods.
"En garde!" the young man proclaims waving his sword with both hands.
Elhyse pulls out her long silver sword from its sheath and hoists her Bruma shield.
She carries the first blow. Her opponent parries her with a hanging guard and retaliates immediately. She dodges the blow and tries to touch his chest. The Champion bends his back and bends his knees. The blade passes over the head. He gets up and then hits with her hip with the flat of his blade. She moans under the blow and places her shield in defense.
"Is that how you protect your boss?" the champion taunts.
"I am quite capable of it!" she retorts, sending her long blade forward.
As she accompanies her blow with her whole body, the champion who easily dodge it benefits that she is discovered to counterattack: he releases his left hand to slap his opponent’s butt. Vexed, she reiterates the same mistake: he dodges the mortal blow on the other side and inflicts the same correction with his other hand.
"Do you think keeping your job, weak as you are?" He says mockingly.
The military lady, the guard high, operates a first step then operates a reel that the hero blocks with a guard.
"You are disappointing," He observes.
"What do you know about that?" She retorts furiously.
He advances in median guard then strikes with the edge of his blade: the shield blocks the blow.
"The sickness of the soldier you replace could put you on the spot."
She places in rear guard, shield forward.
"What do you mean?".
The hero, standing still, makes a feint that hits: he touches her hip with the flat of his blade. She screams and flinches.
In low guard, he observes her with kindness.
"Easy. Enemy presence struck this man. Do you see why?"
In the middle guard, the young woman, displays her astonishment.
"You claim that this disease is not natural?"
"You bet! Even a blind man would have realized it!" the champion tells, by walking around his opponent. "Think carefully about the advantage of the enemy."
Elhyse, shield forward, frowns.
"Well ... he owned the keys of the castle and he was the person closest to the countess."
"Exactly! Someone seeks to harm the Countess of Bruma. That's why her defense was weakened by eliminating her bodyguard. That you have replaced him doesn’t abolish this Machiavellian project ‘cause you are inexperienced."
"Inexperienced? That's what you think!" She says, maneuvering her blade.
The parade was a feint but the champion parries the secret boot. Their blade is crossing; the adversaries approach each other. Their faces almost touch each other; the blades are shaking.
"I hate you!" The young lady proclaims, stealing him a kiss.
The exchange is brief but disconcerts the hero.
Elhyse releases the pressure to holster his weapon.
"We continue this discussion later," she says before slamming the door of the room.
The porter, with a smile on his face, looks at the champion.
"She has a funny way of hating you."
The dreamy looking has stopped but Elhyse does not cure. She felt the kissing weird: the exchange was not brutal as she imagined herself. On the contrary: the hero lips were sweet. Plus, his skin smelled good: probably the soap of his toilet. A well refined soap... She returns to the city of Bruma, confused.

 

The eternal snows of Gnoll Mountain cover Dragonclaw Rock, which rises several miles in the Bruma sector. The Hero takes the map that Elhyse gave him: he identifies the statue of the sentry who must lead to the secret entrance that leads to Pale Pass. He gets off his horse and meets on the way.

Elhyse, in suit military, escorts the countess in the city of Bruma. They have been roaming the city for some time but a nasty presentiment does not leave her. She feels spied. Especially since she visited, before her service, the assigned bodyguard. Then she sent a message to the Mages Guild of Imperial City with the intention of helping her: the guard's illness was too mysterious to be natural ... She grabs the pommel of her blade. The invisible threat becomes clearer. Suddenly a silhouette leaps on her. She avoids it with skill with a stroke of her hip then operates a flip-flop to pass over the sword the aggressor: a noble armed with a dagger. He passes away in one breath. Two other accomplices intervene, a dagger in the hand. Elhyse in a reel eliminates them to the chain. They sprawl on the clay without a cry. Elhyse then intimates with her mistress, trembling with fear, to run towards the castle. They go on losing their breath. They cross without care the gate of the entrance hall. They discover with horror the body of guards who litter the carpet. A mass of rebels encircles them: a nobleman, the grin on his lips, approaches the countess.
"You? Lord Heilsan? You dare to betray me?" She exclaims.
"I thank you for any trouble in delivering yourself," replies the mutineer. "We take over the operations."
With a wave of the hand, he gives a secret order to one of his subordinates. Elhyse is stunned by a principal unknown. She loses consciousness at the feet of her mistress.

The Champion enters through the secret entrance of Pall Pass: a cave that leads to the Serpent Trail. Belligerent ogres insist on stopping him at all costs. They pay for it with their lives.

Elhyse wakes up, her head heavy and painful. Her helmet was taken off and she is put in irons. A heavy rusty chain attached to a handcuff on her wrists lifts her arms. She is leaning against a wall of a wet cell lit by pale sunlight filtered by a barred skylight.

The hero raises his head: he sees the tower of the hidden fort of Pale Pass.

Elhyse hears footsteps. She scrutinizes the jail immersed in the semi-darkness: a pair of eyes shines in a small opening of the wall juxtaposed. A rat appears, wriggling and hungry. It attacks the prisoner on the spot. She could not repress a cry of surprise. She pushes the beast off her feet but this one returns to the load incessantly. A metallic click and a squeak catch her eye. Her jailer, wearing unclean and slovenly clothes, opens the gate to her with mocking laughter. He draws a short blade to skewer the rodent. He shows off his prey in the nose of his prisoner. Elhyse frowns. A cry of pain escapes her. The jailer who has thrown the remains of his prey into the cell asks her about her discomfort. As she does not pipe and keeps scrutinizing her bare foot that begins to bleed, he approaches her and also observes the wound. He does not see the other foot hit his chin. Eyes rolled back, he collapses on his back like a sack of potatoes. Elhyse then notices the key game attached to the thug's belt.

Rows of torches illuminate the wet corridors of the fort. Two skeleton champions, armed with katana Akaviri, challenge the Grand Champion.

Elhyse, wearing the boots of her jailer, walks through the corridors of the prison. A noise alerts her: she leans against the wall. She grabs the dagger and waits for the opportune moment. Sweat runs on her forehead.

The skeletons are lying on the ground, inert. The hero kicks on the chins one at a time: the heads roll in jaw slam.
"Who are you to disturb these places?" a spectral voice says.
The young man turns around and sees the specter of an Akaviri officer, wearing the uniform of the Emperor's Blades. He presents himself as sending the Countess of Bruma and exposes to him the object of his quest: the necklace of the Akaviri. The ghost who was a polite listener speaks. He inclines his identity: he is Mishaxhi, the Akaviri Commander. He makes a deal to the adventurer.

The fugitive female wipes the blood of her blade with the greave of the mutiny’s corpse. She searches him and finds a set of keys. She takes it and leaves in search of the Countess. She only sees empty cells. A wooden door catches her attention. It is locked. She tries the keys until she finds the right one. She opens the door gently. The hinges creak...

"If I understand correctly, I must free the souls of your officers by confronting them. And I'll get the necklace" adventurer says.
The Commander Akaviri nods.
"Agreed!" the adventurer says.

The room is empty. No living soul. The young woman frowns: no further trace of the countess. A small room contains a bed, a wardrobe and a chest. She opens the wardrobe: clothes hanged. The chest contains her belongings. That's something won, she thinks.

The Grand Champion faces the last undead soldier. It collapses at his feet like a disjointed puppet. Its spectral halo appears then, the smiling face. it invites him to follow. The adventurer obeys. They run through long corridors of the fort to a large room where circles gather all the ghost soldiers he released. Mishaxhi departs from the group and approaches the hero. It praises him for having respected the contract and points to a pedestal on which a necklace rests. The hero bows and seizes the coveted object: the Draconian Madstone.

The doors of the door of the castle hall open creakingly.
Dwarven boots crowd the carpet stained with blood.
The throne room is empty. Except a note left on the throne of the countess. The gloved hand grabs it. The Divine Avenger looks at it silently: his face hardens. The door of the hall slams: Elhyse, short of breath, gasps, curves her bust.
"I was looking for you," she says.
"I know the reason: the Countess has just been kidnapped, a fine ransom is requested to me!"
"What?"
The bodyguard female joins him at a quick pace and removes the note to read it.
"The Akaviri jewel? So you found it? And Lord Heilsan wants you to bring him back in person? So that was their plan?"
"Among other things," the hero says, displaying the jewel for a moment before putting it back in his pocket. "I think this Lord is very greedy. He must also desire the throne. I do not think the lady of Bruma lives a very long time! "
"That’s odious! Let's go free her! "
"And how, my dear? We don’t know exactly where she is held! Maybe not in his mansion."
"So, do you ask me to keep our hands crossed?" the young woman says, rebelling.
"No. We are going there."

The manor of Lord Heilsan dominates the exterior ramparts of the city.
The divine Avenger and his companion appear at the front door in uniform and armed. Elhyse is carrying a small jewelry box.
Barely penetrated into the lobby, two soldiers immobilize them to dislodge their weapons. The couple obeys without flinching.
The young man declines his identity. They inform that Lord Heilsan is waiting for them in the living room.
A fire of wood is consuming in the hearth. Lackeys, armed with daggers, wait at every corner like mannequins.
The lord smokes the pipe sitting comfortably behind his desk. At the sight of Elhyse, he raises his eyebrows in amazement but quickly pulls himself together.
"I was not expecting you so soon, dear Divine Avenger."
The interpolated greets the bust his host.
"I came as soon as I heard about your... 'invitation'"
The lord pulls on his pipe.
"All right! I assume you are in possession... of our deal."
The Champion points to the box that Elhyse holds in her hand.
"Well," the Lord continues with a smirk. "Thank you for being so quick."
With a gesture of his hand, he invites a secret order to one of his lackeys. The one behind Elhyse pretends to seize the box but the divine Avenger stops him holding his shoulder. As the lackey seizes his dagger, his master says:
"Explain yourself: do you refuse the end of our contract?"
"For there to be an exchange in the rules, it would still be necessary that the lady Carvain be present. Don’t you think about it?"
The lord, obviously annoyed, asks by hand to his lackey to reinstate his place. He is thinking for a long moment and finally smiles.
"Of course. But do not worry, the lady is doing well."
"For that, I would like to witness that."
"I give you my word. She is resting in her room in my home. Be reassured about her fate."
Reassured, the Champion exchanges a look of connivance with his companion. She drops the box. The lackey, after a glance at his master, seizes it to give it to him.
The lord examines the box set on his desk; pulls on his pipe, then opens it. He removes the object he contains: a parchment. Without thinking he reads aloud his contents:"Go to Hell."
At this moment, the couple in unison steals each the lackey's dagger behind them and slaughters them with a single gesture. They confront the next ones. The Lord calls for help. The host soldiers come to the rescue. They open the living room; see their master trembling with fear on his chair and the bodies of four lackeys lying in a pool of blood... Like a hyena, Elhyse pushes hers dagger into the paunchy belly of one of the soldiers; then she turns the pommel and rips him cleanly. The second one observes this scene, paralyzed. The Grand Champion, a pirouette slaughters him. The blood spurts on the walls before he fails.
The Lord sees the two guests recover their weapon on the dead. He begs them to give them life; that he is rich and that he can make them profit... The Champion looks at his companion. This one approaches her long blade in her hand. Her eyes shine with fury.
A horrible scream escapes from the living room.
Sitting on a bed the Countess, intrigued by the noise outside, stares at the door of her room. She hears something falling on the corridor floor. Then she hears the click of a key in the lock.
The door opens and her bodyguard burst. She rushes on her mistress.
The divine Avenger arrives, smiling.
"We're not late, madam?"
The countess returns back to him her smile.

Citizens of Bruma moves to attend the ceremony at the castle, in the hall of throne. The Divine Avenger and Elhyse, in their military dress, knee to the ground, curved head, listen to the Countess Narina Carvain who rules the ceremony.
"Elhyse, as a temporary bodyguard, has greatly fulfilled her function. She thwarted, with the help of the Divine Avenger, the frightful conspiracy of Lord Heilsan who, for greed, dared betray the Countess and thereby the Empire. Elhyse, lift your head."
The respondent obeys: she is seeing from the corner of the eye Yvara Channite, the stewardess who stands back to the right of her mistress and, on the other side, the bodyguard, smiling and in good health.
"Elhyse," the countess goes on, "in the name of the city, I give you the title of knight and Captain of the Bruma Guard. You will replace in a week Captain Burd who will retire after good and loyal services."
"Thank you Madam. The new captain answers, her head bowed.
"Get up, my dear."
Elhyse is scarcely standing that the audience expresses its joy. The countess then grabs a long sword held by her bodyguard she wields face the Grand Champion.
"Divine Avenger, Grand Champion of the Arena, today, before the people of the city, I give you the title of Champion of Bruma and, for giving back the jewel of the Akaviri, I offer you the Vipereye Ring."
With these words, the Countess passes the necklace around his neck.
"Stand up, Champion of Bruma," she says.
The hero obeys, greeted by an ovation of the people.
Elhyse approaches her companion and, without taking his eyes off the audience, says to him:
"Do not forget that we have not finished our 'conversation', sir."
"Indeed," the hero retorts, still smiling at the delirious crowd.
"The wayshrine of Akatosh, in an hour."
"I'll be there."

The shrine is in a plateau, south of the fortifications of the city, isolated from the world. Only the cries of the birds and the wild fauna disturb the places.
Elhyse wields her long sword, spinning, zebraing the wind.
"The best techniques are passed on by the survivors." A voice says behind her.
Elhyse turns around and sees the Grand Champion, standing next to a broken marble pillar.
"What?"
"This is the motto of Gaiden Shinji, master of arms. First era 916."
" I see. So you want to give me some lessons?"
"And why not ? " the hero replies, unsheathing his Claymore. "High guard, dear Elhyse."
Elhyse obeys.
"No, your feet are badly placed: your body is unbalanced."
The Champion is pouting. As he is unhappy because of the posture of his student, he stands behind her, sticks to her body and corrects the posture. Elhyse is guided by this master who adopts soft gestures. She breathes the perfume surrenders herself in his arms, captivated by the mystical aura that emanates from this man which she burns with desire.
"Elhyse, are you there?"
She wakes up, picks herself up and listens to the precious advice. The hero even teaches him secret boots that he verifies in practice. Cheerful, the new captain exclaims that the crime will cease Cyrodiil. That bandits and robbers can tremble in front of her. Her master ticked when she mentioned that thieves would not be spared. She adds that she will put an end to the reign of the Gray Wolf.
"I think the lesson is enough," the Champion says. "I have to withdraw..."
"How? But we have not finished..."
"Listen, I have to tell you something. I feel that you ... Finally, you must be aware of something that concerns me."
"I listen." Elhyse says, putting her sword in its sheath.
"How to say…? Let's say I congratulate you on your promotion. You replace my father."
"Captain Burd? I thank you but wait ... I did not know that he had a son but just a girl, isolated in her home, that no one never see her."
"Indeed. Her name is Lhylia.” the Divine Avenger says, taking off his hood.
A beautiful and long auburn hair, braided fringes, cascade on the armor Dwarven. It frames a thin face, that of a female Hidden Hidden Elf Courtesan.
"No!" Elhyse exclaims, who recoils, frightened before mounting her painthorse.
Lhylia watches Elhyse stroll away. She is just a point on the horizon.

The night falls on Imperial City. The spectators of the Arena, overexcited, greet the performance of the Grand Champion. 'He' has just committed butchery: 'he' has decimated a Brown Bear and two Ogres without much subtlety, with a very rare violence. His Claymore is still stuck in the chest of the last Ogre but the Champion does not care about it. 'He' abandons it and leaves the arena without a glance at his audience.
Lylia takes off her hood and strips off her stained armor and bandage covering her chest. She plunges into the Renewal Basin and cleans her skin. Her figure is pleasant to look at: a generous chest with pink nipples, shapely hips and legs. Although the young woman has made the dirt disappear, she still feels dirty in her inner being. She hits the water with rage. And fall in tears...
"Congratulations, Champion," Ysabel tells giving her the money without leaving her seat.
Lhylia, dressed in her Dwarven armor and bareheaded, pockets the money. Owyn puts a friendly hand on her shoulder and he urges her to pull herself together. Lhylia repulses him harshly. She blames him for abandoning his daughter Branwen and tells he is not in a position to provide advices. She puts on her hood before leaving the Bloodworks Arena.
She lives in a cottage in Jerall Mountain overlooking in the North of Bruma. The fire crackles in the hearth of the living room. Sitting on her couch, the girl is lost in daydreams. She wears a short and pretty dress that highlights her figure. A knock on the door alerts her. She leaves the chair without any noise. She opens a drawer that she searches. She takes out a dagger.
The blows have stopped. Lhylia goes to a window far from the front door; open it silently and go out in the darkness. A person, wearing a long dark dress and hood, stands in the courtyard. Lhylia approaches him like a feline. In a flash, she belts him and puts the edge of his short blade on his neck.
"Come on, buddy. You open the door without making thoughtless gestures." She says in a whisper.
Her prisoner obeys her promptly. The door deviates in a hinge grinding.
"Make a step and go back slowly," Lhylia orders, removing her dagger.
The visitor runs. As his face is plunged into darkness, Lhylia invites him to remove his hood. Docile, the visitor obeys. Lhylia recognizes Elhyse.
"Is that how you get people ... Lhylia?" This one says with irony.
The master of the house observes her visitor without flinching. She ends up breaking the silence.
"I'm not used to receiving untimely visits.... Especially at night. Besides, nobody visited me except my father a month ago. But tell me: express to me clearly the purpose of your visit? Why this accoutrement? "
"You have no idea? Really? Elhyse retorts with a flame in her voice.
She takes a breath then her voice softens.
"Because of the thick fog, I needed to be well wrapped up. You scared me just now with this knife."
"My apologies. I thought of an attack..."
"Since when do criminals knock on the door? What are you hiding from me?"
"Me?... You change the subject: express to me clearly the object of your visit."
"Do I really need to do it? Come on. You can see it," Elhyse says with clasped hands. "I fell in love with the Grand Champion. Since the surprising defeat of the Gray Prince, the great Argonak. 'He' occupied my thoughts day and night. And there, when I learned his true identity, I panicked. I was expecting a manly man not to... not to you."
Lhylia listens politely to her interlocutor. Her face expresses a host of contradictory expressions.
"Tell me, Lhylia, I need to know," Elhyse continues, her face sad. "What do you really feel for ... me?"
"I... I.... Well, I admit that you intrigued me from the beginning. With your unusual step. You aroused my curiosity. I also felt that you were not indifferent to me. But I thought you were just a fan."
"How...Don’t lie to me. I beg you. Admit it: tell me if you hate me or if ... if you love me."
"I don’t hate you."
"Say it!" Elhyse says forcefully.
Lhylia remains speechless in front of this young woman who has just opened her heart. Then she closes her eyes and kisses her tenderly. Elhyse, taken aback, holds her breath and surrenders in a passionate kiss. She pets her right breast while Lhylia strokes her rump...
[This passage has been censored by order of the Temple.]

The morning rays enter the room. The women, lying naked under the sheets in the arms of the other, wake up slowly.
"Good morning," Elhyse whispers.
" Good morning," Lhylia answers softly.
Elhyse, look at the ceiling, lying on her back.
"You know, lots of things are clearing now." she says.
" Really ? Said her lover, stroking the curl of her short hair.
" Yes. But many things remain in the shadows. You hide things from me."
"I recognize him. Well, where do I start?"
"Start by telling me how Burd, an Imperial, can have an Elf girl? His wife is also an Imperial. "
"He adopted me as a baby. He told me he found me abandoned at the foot of a temple while he was doing his round. He lived alone at the time. But I did not believe it. I have researched, I am the result of a hidden love with a Hidden Elf Courtesan. He was too ashamed to admit it, for fear of losing his job and for the sake of my mother. They were not married because the tribe of my mother refused this union."
"What was your mother's name?"
"Arrysia."
"It's a pretty name."
"Indeed"
"And what did you say when you approached her? Because you did it, didn’t you?"
"Unfortunately I could not do it. She had been extinct for many years, carried away by a mysterious disease. With time, I now understand why my father was sad a few years ago without giving me the reasons."
"I'm sorry."
"Thank you."
"Go on, please."
"All right. My father took me aside. I went out very little. He early taught me the basics of fighting for my survival but always forbidden me to bear arms in public. In short, that's why I hide my identity. For him not to learn the Grand Champion is actually his daughter."
"I see. But did you reveal all your secrets?"
"I did not tell you everything. I am also the Captain of the Fighters Guild. That's why I easily had this appointment in the Anvil guild."
"That's all?"
"Yes."
Elhyse closes her eyes. A broad smile illuminates his facial features.
"Oh, how relieved I am! I was afraid you'd confess that you were the leader of the Thieves Guild, the famous Gray Wolf!"
Elhyse could not see the frightened and troubled Lhylia’s face.

Edited October 1, 2018 by SquallLion1

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short update....

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another update

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new update (1st part)

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second part added.

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it is over.