Here is the first story I wrote, more than a year ago, on Morrowind. I have written many more stories - but this was my first effort.
These and other stories have already been published in two other forums.
May and December
"Bretons' knowledge of Magic is both their blessing and their curse" Layton explained, shaking his grey head to clear the dullness that was slowly creeping in from the winter's breath of snow, now adding a layer of white to the long hair of his uncovered head. His gnarled hand, though, was still steady as it pushed the walking stick in rhythm with his smooth strides breaking the white ground in front of him.He doesn't seem old at all, but I suppose wizards are as strong at sixty as we redguards at twenty-four thought Hammerhand, as he matched the wizard stride for stride while listening and scouting at the same time.
"Yes, we have an affinity for magic, and in High Rock we are quite proud of our skills. But with pride -" Layton paused, and peered ahead - " comes jealousy, and intrigue as well...ah, Hammerhand, watch that crow!"
Hammerhand's eyes flicked to the point where Layton was looking. A crow, just like any other crow, was perched on the low branch of a tree twenty yards ahead. He blinked. Try as he might, he could see nothing unusual about it. Perhaps Layton was teasing him. For an old man, he did have a sprightly sense of humour, though sometimes strange -
" Notice the ground underneath him?"
Hammergand looked. Nothing unusual, the ground underneath was bare. No grass, only dark brown earth. Only earth -
"And it's been snowing for an hour, hasn't it?"
With a silent curse, Hammerhand quietly reached for his bow, but even as he did the crow turned its head to look at them. Understanding, Hammerhand dropped all guile and swiftly pulled out bow and arrow and drew at the same time in one smooth, practiced motion, all for nothing. The crow-shape seemed to blur and shimmer, and then as the arrow came up to aim it winked out of existence.
"As I was saying -" Layton continued, as if nothing much unusual had happened "- mages at High Rock are jealous of their reputation and powers, and sometimes, if and when they happen to see someone who had the potential to be greater than them, they will -"
"Excuse me, Mage Layton! That crow - what - who was it? And how did it -" He looked, his eyes narrowing, at the bare patch of ground beneath the low branch, which was now receiving its first powdering of snow to match the white ground surrounding it.
Layton frowned.
"The young of today are so impetuous...all in good time, my young friend, all in good time. I willl continue. Jealous Breton Mages will frequently attempt to block the career of those they consider to be a threat and a rival, and sometimes they will even attempt assassination. Or worse. And to answer your unfinished question, that crow was a shapeshifting Magika adept who was watching us -"
"I notice you didn't use the term Mage, Honourable Teacher"
"Sarcasm should be reserved for the old, Master Hammerhand; and I see you are not cured of impetuosness. Still, I suppose I should applaud your attentiveness. Yes, I avoided the term Mage: I will not honour necromancers with that term. He had shapeshifted to the crow-shape, but shapeshifting will now alter the actual feel of the elements on the shifter's hide, and he was feeling the cold - naturally - and so he created a cone of force around her that kept out the snow. Hence the bare ground...and I think we should find some warmth of our own, should we not? I am a Mage, but controlling the entire weather system around here would be somewhat beyond my powers"
Sarcasm doesn't become you, either thought Hammerhand silently as he scouted, found, and began to prepare a suitable resting place for the night. As the flames crackled in the fire under a temporary wigwam of branches under the hides they had carried on their travois, Layton stretched his hands tothe fire and continued, in his soft, brooding voice.
" I was marked early on as a promising student, and sent to study under the Master High Rock Mage himself. Which of course attracted jealousy. Two Mages, one an old man, and another the Master of Conjuration at the school, conspired to have me accused of stealing a precious, rare tome on Conjuration - The Anatomy of Daedric Powerby the Secret Master of Conjuration, Dee Fox - and hid the book in my trunk. within a bag enchanted to blind simple people to the contents inside. Of course, that would not work against Mages! But it was enough to condemn me as a conniving, over-ambitious student who would not hesitate to use theft and even whatever magic he then knew to advance unscrupulously....and I was condemned to death." The fire was dying down as he spoke. He took a bundle of faggots, strew them on the embers, then with a gesture of magic flicked a long, red spark from his hands. The fire kindled again.
" I would have died then, except...except for her. And that is the reason why we are here today"
Hammerhand looked up, surprised. "That's the first time I've ever heard you mention any woman with any warmth in your voice, Mage!"
Layton looked at Hammerhand under his white eyebrows. "Yes, you young folk think that the old were always old, don't you? But I was not always Mage Layton with the white eyebrows, grey hair, and even grayer voice. Once I, too, was young and in love...and Silvayn was a girl worth loving. Gentle eyes, a laughing mouth, a kind and sweet - even meek - voice and a soft, graceful walk, but inside she had the courage of ten men and the steel in her soul could slice through your finest adamantium armour. We were planning to marry after I had graduated, but we had kept our love a secret as I was...shall we say...possessed of only my intellect and no other wealth, and her father was the wealthiest man in High Rock."
Hammerhand's delighted laugh rang out through the cold night air. "Why, Mage Layton! Oh, but you're human...I was beginning to think you had been born sixty! Go on! So she rescued you with her wealth?"
Layton did not answer at once. He was staring into the fire, and the flames seemed to leap up and then settle back down into their ever-shifting dance of warmth. He slowly shook his head, and when he continued his voice suddenly sounded every one of his sixty years.
"No one can buy or sell justice in High Rock, Redguard - that is reserved for corrupt Balmora and other Morrowind places. She knew I was innocent, yet all her own personal wealth could not shift one day's grace from my sentence of death. Yet she found a way. She sold her personal jewels, and with the septims she went to a Mage, in secret at night, and bought two most expensive scrolls with half that money... one was a scroll of illusion, and one was a scroll of teleportation. With the first scroll of illusion, she managed to walk into my cell in the guise of a guard officer...and she found me sitting on my stool, trying to collect myself so that I could go to my execution at dawn tomorrow without trembling. She gave me the teleport scroll and the rest of her money, lying to me that she had another scroll, and that she would use it as soon as I had used mine. Believing her, I used my scroll, and was transported out of High Rock into Morrowind at once. There I waited. And waited. And waited...."
Layton paused while the fire bloomed up into a bright blaze, outlining the hard, craggy contours of his face.
(TO BE CONTINUED!!!)
May and December, continued)
He continued, oblivious of the intense interest in the Redguard's eyes. "After a while I knew something had gone wrong, but my knowledge - then - of Magika was not powerful enough to enable me to teleport back to High Rock to find out what had gone wrong. I spent the next three months frantically trying to find any means of transportation to High Rock, and in the meantime searching for any travellers who might have come from High Rock...the town of Seyda Neen knew me quite well, always hanging around the docks! I took a menial job at the Customs and Excise just so I could have an excuse to be near the docks and look for a ship coming from High Rock..or any passenger who had the latest news from High Rock. Three months later, I met my first traveller from High Rock. With him came news of Silvayn. And my doom."
"Did they... kill her?"
Layton laughed, grimly. "Perhaps it might have been better...for her! If they had....for when she was discovered masquerading as me in the morning, the Council of High Rock put her on trial. But Silvayn was as clever as she was brave. She knew our law well, and so she refused to say a single word! At her trial the Council was in a terrible dilemma - they knew she must have, somehow, whisked me out of that cell, and yet they had no proof that it was she who had done it. The Mage who had sold her the scrolls was bribed by her family, who were determined to do anything for their only daughter. He took the money and left High Rock, and thus there were no witnesses at all. Yet the Council could not let no one go punished for the crime, and so they came up with a terrible solution."
"They told her: "We know that you can speak, and yet do not speak for reasons of your own. If you will speak, and either prove that you were somehow spirited into that cell by Magika, or that you have assisted the prisoner to escape but have now repented and will tell us where he escaped to, we will pardon you...but if you refuse to speak, we will imprison you in an enchanted cave in Solsteim, which shall be sealed against all possible escape, until you relent and speak" and gave her the choice: my recapture, or her lifelong inprisonment - away from all contact with her family, with friends, with even humanity itself, for that cave was sealed with enough provisions for a hundred years."
Hammerhand stood, shocked and speechless. "Then - Mage Layton - the reason we are here, on Solstheim - is....."
Layton nodded, the shadows hiding his eyes. "Yes, though it may not be as you think. At that time I was ready to go back at once to be recaptured and executed, but the same traveller told me that he had heard from an absolutely unimpeachable source that the Council had lied to her...it had sworn in secret that it would never be made a fool of, especially by a young girl, so that if ever I was recaptured they would execute me secretly and then show my body to Silvayn, but keep her a prisoner for ever in the ice of Solstheim without hope or human contact. I could not allow that. And so for forty years I have fought the council with the only weapon I had - my knowledge of Majika. For only they had the keys to open the ice prison...over the past forty years, for the first thirty I have studied under Master after Master of Magika, and for the last ten I have researched by myself."
"I've been with you for the last two years...but I've heard of your exploits long before that. Weren't you the one who duelled those Breton Mages, one by one, for six years straight, killing them all?"
"Yes, they were six of the seven mages of the Council, and I now have six keys. There is only one more left...and he is a council member no more. For as his fellow accomplices in crime were replaced one by one due to the death-vacancies created by me, Silvayn's family, still angry at the unjust sentence on their daughter, made sure that the new members were good men...until finally he was voted out of the council. Justice may be delayed, but it is never forgotten! But it is time to rest now, we will have work to do on the morrow."
Layton moved into his cloak, and closed his eyes. Hammerhand made sure the fire was just smouldering enough to give warmth, then moved into his own cloak: but before he closed his eyes, he went into the Secret trance mode of the Redguard Adept, and his ears remained awake even as the rest of his body slept.
The trance awoke him late at night. He was awake all at once, listening and looking even as his body remained perfectly still: it was the absence of noise that had woken him. The small flutterings of of the night-bats and forest mice, who came from time to time to nibble on the leftovers of their dinner, had ceased. Slowly, inch by inch, he turned his head towards the right. Instinct told him there was the danger.
A blacker shadow was outlined against the stars of the black night. It was moving, so silently, so slowly that it made no noise at all and appeared motionless; but he could see it nearing them, and its shape was visible. Hunched, of almost man-height yet strangely shaped, it moved in a manner not quite human.
Hammerhand slowly slipped his hand towards his sword, while tensing to spring at a moment's notice. As his hand found the handle of the sword, he slowly coiled his body into a tense spring. His eyes noted that the shape had now raised its hands, and that, in the starlight, the fingers were long...too long -
"WEREWOLF!!!"
(To be continued!!!)
(continued)
.......Hammerhand screamed a warning as he came out of his cloak, his sword a blur moving so fast most men would not even have seen it. His feet pistoned him towards the shape-shifter even as his sword thrust out, straight as a spear towards the belly of the un-wolf: despite his strength, he knew better than to slash at a werewolf's amazingly strong hide. It would have to be a belly-thrust, and even that's not sure of success he thought grimly in the split second as he lunged. And knew that he had failed.
.......With a speed far superior to his own, the Werewolf had twisted so that the point of the blade went past its body, and as Hammerhand went by, smelling the rotting decayed reek of its fur, the beast backhanded him almost contemptuously with one hand. Stars exploded in his head as Hammerhand somersaulted in the air, a blinding flash of pain exploding on the left side of his face: yet even as the grey of unconciousness threatened to wash over him Hammerhand twisted as he hit the ground, holding on to his alertness by sheer force of will.
.......He saw the Werewolf rush at the now awake Layton, and grab him by the shoulders as its head twisted to bite. Layton reached up, and grabbed the werewolf by the throat...and Hammerhand couldnot believe his eyes.
.......LAYTON HAD THRUST HIS HEAD INTO THE WEREWOLF'S MOUTH!
.......For an instant, the two, Mage and werewolf joined, were frozen together...and then came an earsplitting screech by the Werewolf, who let go of Layton as if he were a live coal. Gagging, sulphurous fumes coming out of his mouth, the Werewolf staggered away, clutching its throat.
.......Layton's laughter tore further open the blackness of the night.
......."Did you like that. Hermot? I could have killed you earlier today in your bird guise...but forty years ago I swore to kill you with my own two hands, so I have waited this night, all the time holding that poison in my mouth, for you to come as I knew you would! Now the poison is working on your guts...and in all Tamriel, only I have the antidote! So go and teleport away if you wish - you will die in less than an hour...or if you want to try to live, come and battle me! Win, and you have crushed your enemy, and the antidote is yours: Lose, and I will have killed you, and the seventh and last key is mine!"
.......With a choking snarl, the werewolf again lunged, this time in desperation, against Layton. And then he seemed to stop in mid-air, and crumple to the ground...Hammerhand understood, even through his pain. Layton had cast a drain strength spell at the werewolf.
.......Layton walked up to Hammerhand. "Your sword, Redguard" he said, quietly, conversationally. Taking his sword from Hammerhand's still weak hands, he turned to the whimpering werewolf on the ground, now making noises that sounded like speech.
.......Layton looked. For a while, it seemed as if he would spare the werewolf, and then he struck.
.......The werewolf necromancer screamed as the blade came down razor-sharp into its one weak spot, its belly, and Layton whispered "That one's for your lies". The werewolf screamed, its sound eerily human. Up came the blade, red-tipped now, and slashed a second time; and as it did Layton whispered again "For my forty years of exile". The werewolf's Magika was wearing off now in the spasms of its agony, and from the head down it began to assume the form of a man again....Layton looked on, pitilessly, and then swung the sword high above his head. And spoke.
"And this is for Silvayn!"
Hermot's head leaped into the air on a fountain of blood, slashed away from his still-wolf body by the savage stroke of Layton's sword. The headless body, its guts spilling out in ribbons, shuddered, seemed to dance grotesquely, before it lay still.
Hammerhand slowly got up, and looked at the head and body now lying in pools of blood.
"And what would you have done if you had lost? He would have got the antidote, and be laughing his head off...my god, what an ugly joke that is...."
Layton turned to Hammerhand, and smiled.
"For once in my life, I lied. There was no antidote. There was only a second bottle of even worse poison"
(To be continued!)
(continued)
"One thing that bothers me" said Hammerhand as they continued their journey in the morning's swirling snow "Where was that seventh key? You know that Werewolves cannot carry anything on themselves, yet you killed Hermot. Did you, perhaps, look into his mind as he died, to find out where that key was?"
Layton smiled. He looked around, and squinted through the white curtain, peering ahead...and then he pointed. Hammerhand at first could not see anything, but then through a gap in the falling snow he saw it: a shining wall of ice, straight ahead, towering up from the pines and the rock of the desolate landscape.
"There is Silvayn's prison, and I have all the seven keys now" said Layton, quietly, " for Hermot was not the leader of the Mage's council for nothing. He knew I was alive, somewhere, and that I would surely try to rescue her, and to kill the Council at the same time. So he made precautions. There were to be six keys, each with one council member, each hidden in a different place. And then he enchanted the cave with his seventh key, a unique one. Ah, tell me, Hammerhand, if you wanted to make a key that could absolutely not be stolen from you, waking or sleeping, how would you do it?"
From his position as rearguard, Hammerhand paused from his constant scanning of the sides and rear to frown at Layton. "My dear teacher and Mentor, I really don't think you should waste time in this way - you know very well that I couldn't imagine how Hermot could have done it! Tell me, or not....you're going to open that door anyway!"
"Hmmm, temper, temper, Master Hammerhand...I was merely trying to make you exercise some of your mental muscles to complement that splendid body of yours. But I shall reveal Hermot's secret to you. His life was the seventh key! He had enchanted that door so that he could open and shut it at will, but any other person would not only need the six other keys, but his approval as well, to open it! And as long as he was alive, of course it would not be given. So as long as his will was alive, that door would remain shut.
Furthermore, since he had also enchanted the other six keys, they would dissolve if he was killed....unless all six were sealed in a magic container that would nullify his will. Thus, with this device, he had forced anyone who would try to open that door to first kill the six Council members, get their keys, before he could be killed! This would give him two advantages over me - while I was hunting, killing and searching the Council members for their key, he would have six chances at killing me, while I dared not kill him in return! And then even if I had managed to obtain the six keys, he still had the option of fighting me or hiding from me."
"So why, Mage Layton, did he not hide from you, but pursue you to the edge of her prison?"
"You forget Silvayn's family. After the Council had passed its corrupt decision, her family swore to destroy it, and Hermot too; and every time I killed a member of the Council, they worked behind the scenes to elect a new member who was beholden to them. When I had killed the sixth member, they now had enough votes to strip Hermot of his leadership and expel him from the Council...and I knew then that Hermot, who had grown mad and embittered enough to dabble in Necromancy and shapeshifting over these years, would finally snap - and come to her prison to kill her, as his final act of revenge over me. Of course, if he saw me at the same time, I knew he would not be able to resist his impulse to kill two birds with one stone...and now even as I talk of stone, Master Hammerhand, we have arrived at the stone door of Silvayn's prison. Stand back, I shall open it -"
Layton's six keys were used, and the door, set into the wall of ice, slowly swung inwards, revealing a tunnel of ice lighted with insect lamps that gave light with no burning. Although the light produced by each lamp was meagre, the amount of the lamps, and the reflection of the white ice walls, produced a light that was even brighter than the outside. Beckoning for Hammerhand to follow, Layton moved into the tunnel.
After following the long, winding tunnel for more than a hundred yards, they reached a large chamber which had a high, vaulted roof that was more than forty feet high: tables, a bed, many urns, and seven bookcases crammed with books in addtion to a full set of alchemical apparatus showed that Hermot had been using the chamber for some time as his lair. Layton searched around, and saw there was another room opening off the chamber, which had a white lace curtain across the door. He moved into the room, pushing the curtain aside. Hammerhand followed.
Both stopped, frozen in their tracks. And stared.
The Chamber was magficently lighted. Huge, warm wolf and bearskins covered the floor. It was empty, except for the middle, where -
Silvayn lay full length on an altar of ice, which had been covered with a huge bearskin. A great globe of light was suspended above her, and the light which bathed her in soft gold showed her to be breathtakingly beautiful...and young. Not a white hair in her beautiful raven-black hair, not a line on her face, neck or hands, which were all that were visible under the blindingly white bridal dress she wore,which shone, dazzling, in the light. She seemed to be asleep. Her face seemed to be gently smiling, as her two beautiful breasts rose gently, in slow, deep breaths, under the clinging fabric.
Layton sat down heavily on a nearby stool, with his head suddenly dropping to his chin. To Hammerhand's shocked gaze he seemed to have aged instantly; all the strength and dry wit which had animated him seemed to have vanished, and when he spoke again, it was with an old man's cracked, tembling voice, so soft that Hammerhand had to lean forward to hear him.
"Yes....I had thought this might have happened...Yet ever I hoped - against hope. Oh, my Love..look at her, Hammerhand, see how beautiful she is! Of course Hermot wanted her for himself...that was why he had enchanted the cave so that only he could enter and leave as he pleased. And of course she would never have him...so he has enchanted her in sleep.. for nearly forty years!...ah, my love, you are even more beautiful now than you were at sixteen..."
Layton's voice trailed away, and he seemed to be carved from stone.
Hammerhand stared, rapt in the Sleeping Beauty of Silvayn.
Hammerhand finally found his voice.
"Master! What joy this is! You have found your bride, and she is as beautiful as ever! Now I can see you both happy!"
Layton looked up at Hammerhand, and the look froze his voice. Bewildered, Hammerhand stared, a strange, cold suspicion creeping into his heart.
"Hammerhand, have you never loved? No, but I think you will understand...."
Layton looked, with an aching tenderness, at Silvayn's sleeping beauty, and continued, slowly, his voice as grey as his face.
"Look at me. I am old, Redguard - and she is young, and beautiful, and strong still. Would you have me steal the glory of her youth to be the wife of an old, white-haired Mage? I have known for nearly forty years that this might happen...and I have sworn to do what must be done. Why do you think I have brought you here, most worthy of my students?"
For a moment Hammerhand's mind was blank, and then, as the full implications of Layton's speech dawned on him, he blurted -
"But - Master - I ....No....NO!!"
"Silence, Hammerhand...this way is the best. I have tested you for two years and more, and your mind, heart, and body are perfect. That you will love her goes without saying: and I know you will be able to make her love you. Here. Take this letter. It will explain to her that I was wounded unto death in the battle against the Council, but before I died I made you my heir. Then explain to her that you have avenged me by killing Hermot and opening the cave, and that will make her love you....Here. Take this bag. It contains more than enough gold and treasure to begin your married life...no, Hammerhand, do not shake your head. Love is not blind...Love sees even more than normal, and I have seen enough to know that I must love enough to let go the one I love. Please be kind to my love, dearest of students...and now I shall teleport away.
Silvayn...Life of my life...No, I will not kiss you now...my time is past.
Ah, my love, let me look on your face one last time! Once, forty years ago, you made me teleport away to save my life...now I will teleport away to save yours. Now, forever...goodbye, my life, my love, my heart, goodbye...I loved you."
Before Hammerhand could open his mouth to protest again, Layton had disappeared.
For a long time, Hammerhand stared at the space where Layton had been, and then at the Sleeping Beauty of Silvayn...and then, as gently as a feather falling onto a bed of snow, he leaned down and kissed her coral lips.
She woke at once. Slowly, regally, she sat up, and stared at Hammerhand. And then she spoke.
"Who are you?"
She listened to Hammerhand's halting explaination, and while she did so, began, slowly, to smile.
(NO! NO! FEAR NOT, Faithful reader! This is NOT the END! ONE Final Installment shall arrive...where ALL WILL BE REVEALED!!!*)
*And I don't mean my boxers...hee hee
So, readers so far!!
Do you like it?
If so, I shall reveal the end in the last installment...and I have TWO more stories to go on!!!
Let's hear a thumbs up or a thumbs down!!!
Outstanding story D.Foxy! It was truely a good read. Also, before I say anything else, I must welcome you the Silgrad Tower.
:wave:
The only problem that I can see is a few minor spelling errors in the fourth post of the story. I never really got lost reading it, but the format probably needs to be revised. There were too many (...) for my liking.
The story itself was very cool. Do you have any more you would like to post for us? I want to read them now. :yes:
-nr
(Well, faithful readers - BTW thanks for the welcome - here is the final part of the story. Now it is finished...I would like comments on the whole package, before I post another one. Thank you!!)
For a long time the ice cavern stood, lonely and austere, as Silvayn and Hammerhand left it to go on their journey. Then the air near the Altar where Silvayn had lain for forty years smimmered and thickened, and Layton appeard.
He had not teleported, but had used a spell of invisibility. Invisible, he had watched Hammerhand woo Silvayn: watched as Silvayn had listened, at first gravely, and then suddenly laughed and bent her head near Hammerhand to whisper something that seemed to take a long time to say. Hammerhand listened, and then suddenly smiled. Layton had watched as they departed, Silvayn's head still on Hammerhand's shoulder, still whispering into his ear. Two bodies, one life. A new life.
He had not known one could feel so much pain and joy, and still live.
Slowly, he walked to the altar, and looked down on the place where she had lain. Kneeling, he pressed his cracked lips to the spot, still warm from her touch. He closed his eyes. He could still make out her scent.
He spoke.
"May and December...yes, they should not meet. It's best this way...I have loved you, Silvayn, from the first moment that I saw you, and now I shall stay here for the rest of my life, so that I can look at the spot where I last saw you... "
"The Gift of Love is unselfish,
It knows and asks no reason-
The path of Love is winding,
Till the end of Life's striving-
I have lived, and loved, and now my gift is complete,
I have given my love freedom from duty's feet -
Go gentle into that morn, my love, and for me do not mourn
May sorrow pass you by, my love, and only joy geet your days
May no dark memories scar your heart; and, in every which way
May you find the light and joy of love...in your heart, to ever stay..."
He stops. He hears footsteps, stealthy, steady, advancing from behind. A beast? Bandits? Ricklings? From habit his hand moves to his side for his Wizard's Staff. Open your eyes, turn; take up the guard position; ready a spell; the enemy has not seen you, and you will surprise it...all these thoughts, the legacy of decades of battle flash through his mind, automatic.
But it felt better to keep his eyes closed, to linger in her scent....he hears the soft sound coming closer and closer. And still he stands there, his eyes closed. In this love. In this last warmth. In this precious place. Just a little while longer, he tells himself. The sounds come closer. He knows it has reached the curtain.
And suddenly he finds he just doesn't care. Not now. Not any more.
Well, whatever it is, let it find me here, he thinks. If I have to die, there is no better place than here...and I feel so tired. My work is done. Let it all end here...He keeps his eyes closed.
He thinks he has no more tears left, but from somewhere the moisture comes, and he is surprised to find his cheeks are wet. So I can still feel, he marvelled, one last time before I die. Ah, the last bright flame of the candle before it is blown out.
He hears the sound of the curtain being swept aside, but he still does not move. Let it be quick, he thinks, and then he whispers...
"Goodbye, Silvayn, Love of my life..."
Two white arms around him, her ineffable fragrance, and her voice with both tears and laughter in it -
"Ah, you silly man, I haven't even said hello to you, and you would say goodbye? Still as contrary as ever - you haven't changed a bit in forty years!"
His heart is too big for his body; surely it must explode, he has no words, he cannot move, but it is not needed now as she turns and kisses him, her own tears mingling with his as her touch, her hair, her scent overwhelms all his senses. He tries to speak again but her tears are now flowing faster now in strange contrast to her laughing mouth - and he cannot tell the difference between her sobs and her laughter, but it is unnecessary, she is in his arms and his heart, an amazing contrast between the slenderness of her waist and hips and the tremendous strength with which she is holding him: it seems he cannot breathe, but surely that must be an illusion, else how could he have the breath to say her name, over and over and over again?
She pulls his head down now, one hand releasing him to move to her side, and then suddenly his head is being guided to her breast and in simple humility he worships reverently. He feels, more than hears, the catch in her breath as his hand moving up, blindly, to caresses her wet cheek: she kisses every single finger of his hand, fiercely, as if she would brand every inch of his skin with her mark of possession. The quivering heat of her body fills him and is part of him; he scents the sweetness of her skin and sweat deep in his head.
Pulling his head away, she looks at him, her eyes wide open, bright, fierce, and shining: he stares up at her, a child again, a look of blind adoration. All his Magecraft, his sixty years, are gone, he is an innocent again gazing into heaven, while her slow smile endows her with the wisdom of ageless womanhood. Still smiling, she reaches gently, still smiling, she guides him firmly as she sinks down onto the surface. He finds he is moving in a tide that he has no control over: her heat and scent mingle with her strong, deep kisses to touch the center of him that he had not known existed, and he gasps -
"Oh, love" -
And she answers, "YES, I want all of you, now," he feels like he is both falling and floating up, into death or heaven, he does not know, or care much how. He can feel every beat of her thudding heart. Her breath comes in a steady rhythm. They fall into oneness in sleep.
Later, she tells him.
"A woman in love always knows, my heart...I knew, even as your student was telling me of his love, that you were not dead. I don't know how I knew, I just knew...So as he was speaking, I pulled his head close to mine, and whispered 'He's not dead, and he told you to do this, didn't he?' and your student couldn't help but tell me the truth. I knew then you had not teleported - you would never have left as long as you could still see me! Then I guessed that you must have used a spell of invisibility. I sensed that you were near...and then I saw it all. I even thought of speaking out and demanding that you appear, but then..."
"But?"
"I was a little annoyed that you would do such a thing to me! AS IF! Did you really think that only Men could love? And did you think that I was the type of shallow woman to care about your appearance, or of having to work at being the wife of an older man? I look at you and I see your white hair or the lines on your face - I see the face of a man who has loved me, lived for me, fought for me, for forty years....and would even die for me! So I decided to go away for a while, and pretend to have fallen in love with Hammerhand...just to teach you, my foolish man, a lesson about women! Hmmmph! Did you think you could get rid of ME so easily? Well, buster, I got news for you...you're mine now, white hair, bent back, and all...and I'm not going to ever let you go! Why did you think I taunted Hermot into putting that sleeping spell on me? I knew you, I knew you would come to me one day...and I wanted to be there, and beautiful, for your, my white prince!"
Layton looked at the ceiling, and told himself he needed to live another sixty years to understand women.
...................... THE END
raggidman coalesces from ... somewhere: serious stuff yer Foxiness... :goodjob:...if yer willin' I will put this in the small but growing pile of 'to be editeds' in the shadiest nook of editor's corner.
As far as I am concerned I have time, I am not impatient at the moment. The same cannot be said for the wealthy who actually have computers that can play Oblivion - as I suspect that they want to get everything done before the game comes out so that they can concentrate on the important chore of playing the game!
One small detail - it might be more effective if the raunchy bits were subtler? I think atm they distract from and unbalance the other content - it's hard for mere fantasy to compete with strong and graphic description...
If all is well I can take care of the spelling and detail noremorse - it's part of what I am here for...
Yes, that's what I wanted to talk to you about.
That was TAME. My other stories are - well, it depends on taste. There is more sex - and descriptions of a naked elf-woman - in "All's Fair in Love and War" and in "The Beauty is the Beast" there is no explicit sex as such, but there is an attempted rape scene. Besides some gory stuff. Well, a story about zombies can't avoid the gory stuff...
But the sex is less than 5% of those stories, and if you read those stories you'll see that they are not only integral to the story, but also erotically and tastefully done.
Should I post those stories?
You can read them in their entirety by going to my main forum, "The Drawbridge", and going to "The Kingdom's quill" section and scrolling all the way down to page one, where you'll find the threads "FOXY'S SERIAL STORIES".
Awaiting your decision...
(BTW you can edit them as much as you think fit)
(fingers crossed)
K, I will get onto that this asap. I'll do bits directly, and you can compare with your originals.
I am not talking about %, but more about impact?
To write about passion is fine, but the ES tradition seems to be usually about aluding to it at a distance...see what you think.
Since I am no longer moderating per se I cannot technically ban anything, so that aint what's up... more just putting forward alternatives...
ps Ithink that in Daggerfall you will find that some of it is explicit one of the Barenziah books has her indulge in sex with a Khajiit Thief in a tavern - so maybe I am wrong. But if my little edit works for you?