Alliance Defiance Ch. 01

Disclaimer: The Elder Scrolls series and all related media are the property of ZeniMax Inc. and Bethesda Softworks. Obviously.

Author's Note: If you are unfamiliar with the Tamriel universe, let me offer a brief description of the different races. Dunmer, or Dark Elf, are a proud but xenophobic elven people with skin the color of shadows and eyes as red as blood. Orsimer—or Orcs—are warrior elves with unshakable courage, greenish skin and a characteristic underbite. Redguards are strong, dark-skinned, wiry-haired, and rich with culture. Bretons are a mix of High Elf (Altmer) and human blood, but by-and-large appear like other pale-skinned human races, although with a more slight build. Nords are the pale blonde humans who live in northernmost Tamriel, their personalities icy with determination and strength. Imperials are the tanned, dark-haired inhabitants of Tamriel's capital, and are shrewd diplomats and traders. Argonians are the reptilian natives of the swamplands, and the race that everyone loves to hate. Khajiit are the cat-like people known and distrusted for their high intelligence and agility.

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ALLIANCE DEFIANCE

Chapter One

The afternoon sun shines down with intense ferocity. Of course, this is to be expected, as it is the beginning of Last Seed, the last month of the summer. Soon, it will be Hearthfire, the time for harvest and celebration among the people. But until then, there is much work to be done.

Three young women sit on bales of hay, hunched over in exhaustion. Two hours of raking hay for Snukh, the stablemaster of Swiftsteed Stables—who just so happens to be Shelb's overbearing father—was absolute torture, but Snukh has been out of commission for a couple of weeks after "accidentally" being shot in the knee by a Lion Guard soldier.

"Why are you all sitting around feeling sorry for yourselves?"

The girls look up to see their friend Jalik smiling down at them, his brown eyes filled with mirth, clearly amused. The hours spent in direct sunlight have deepened his already dark complexion, and there is sweat trickling down his temples. He is leaning on his rake with one arm, his gaze focused on Elera, a fellow Redguard.

Elera does not hesitate to immediately shoot him a glare. "Is that a challenge, Jalik?" Without waiting for an answer, the young woman rises to her feet with her arms folded across her chest and stomps over to where she left her rake, purposely bumping her shoulder against his arm. As Elera passes him, Jalik turns to catch a very obvious glimpse of her ass—or what he can see of it through her robe.

Mary and Shelb glance at each other, their eyebrows raised. Mary knows that the two of them are fooling around behind closed doors, but Shelb has no idea. As an Orc, Shelb would find it strange to publicly share the details of such an activity, especially at their young age, which is why Elera and Jalik find it necessary to put up the façade of not being able to stand each other. Mary, on the other hand—despite her strict upbringing—is a little more receptive to Elera's stories of steamy encounters with Jalik. In a way, it allows her to live vicariously through her friend's promiscuous behavior.

"Come on," says Mary as she stands up, wiping the sweat from her forehead, "let's go join them!"

With a shrug, Shelb runs behind a laughing Mary, who is carrying a bucket of water in her hands. Mary douses Elera and Jalik with some of the cold water, then turns and does the same to Shelb. Feigning offense, Shelb wrestles the bucket from Mary's muddy hands and tips it over her friends' heads. The youngsters are having so much fun that they don't notice an adult approaching them.

"Mary!"

A look of panic settles into Mary's soft facial features. Slowly, she turns around to face the voice. "Yes, Mother?"

"Come. We must do the delivery for the week."

"Yes, Mother." With a final look toward her friends, Mary hands her rake to Shelb and walks toward her mother, hanging her head in embarrassment.

The walk all the way from the stable to their home is silent but for their footfalls. Mary knows her mother is upset with her, but she also wants to alleviate the tension between them. She begins to speak as they take their shoes off to enter the house.

"Mother, I'm sorry, I—"

"You're not sorry, dear. You don't have to lie." Antovina turns to face her daughter. Her facial expression is not what Mary is expecting. Instead of anger, or even indifference, there is fear.

"What's wrong?" She takes an anticipatory step toward her mother.

"Hi, sis!" At the sound of her son's voice, Antovina's sullen expression clears, as if it was never there to begin with.

"Jonan, sweetie, how was school today?" asks Antovina with a strained voice, turning to face her young son with a forced smile on her face.

"It was so fun! We learned about geography today! Did you know, that there's an island called Stros M'kai? I didn't, but I do now!"

"That's great, honey!" Antovina feigns interest in her son's babbling, as many parents do with their young children. But she is happy that he is having a good time and is learning so much. Suddenly, her facial expression changes again. "Mary, the cheese."

"Yes, Mother." Mary heads over to the oven and douses the oven fire with a bit of water from a nearby bucket. She reaches into the heat with the wooden paddle and retrieves the wooden tray of goat cheese slices and cubes, baked to a crispy perfection, with the honey that was drizzled on it bubbling with warmth.

"I made some extra today. See if Raeha is willing to buy a little more than usual. We will need the extra money," Antovina says as she runs her hand through Jonan's dusty light brown hair.

Jonan looks at his sister expectantly, holding his palms outstretched toward her. With a smile, Mary plops a slice of the cheese into his hand before putting the rest of the hot cheese onto a straw plate and covering it with a cloth. Antovina chuckles.

Just as Mary is about to step out of the house, her mother says something that she almost doesn't hear. "Can you fetch some white grapes for me on the way back?"

Humming, Mary pretends she hasn't heard her mother's words and slips her sandals onto her small feet, practically skipping through the neighborhood. People smile and greet her, and she does the same to them.

She opens the door of the temple to find Raeha sitting on the hearth with a book in her hand, surrounded by little boys and girls. They are not separated by race; Redguard, Orc, and Breton children are all wide-eyed and eager to learn about Akatosh, the Dragon God of Time and first deity known to the inhabitants of Tamriel.

Some of the children begin to squirm with excitement when they spot Mary holding her cloth-covered plate, for they know that she has brought them their favorite sweet and salty treat.

With a soft giggle, Mary sits cross-legged beside Raeha and offers her the plate.

"Can everybody tell Ms. Maryona which goddess we learned about today?" asks Raeha sweetly, her fingers lingering on the edge of the cloth, aged eyes twinkling.

"Kynareth!" the excited children proclaim in unison.

"And what is she the goddess of? Can you tell me that?" It is Mary's turn to ask the children.

"The nature!"

"Good job!" Mary coos. "Ms. Raeha, I think they are ready for their treat..."

Squeals erupt from the children as Raeha peels back the cloth to reveal the chunks and slices of goat cheese. They each reach for one and pop them in their mouths, some of them bouncing up and down or happily swinging their heads from side to side as they chew.

One by one, the children's parents come to retrieve them for the evening, and every time the door opens, Mary finds herself shuddering at the coolness of the sunset air.

Once all of the children are gone, Raeha reaches into the pocket of her dress and hands Mary a small pouch. "15 septims. That's all I can spare."

Mary bows her head in gratitude. "Thank you, that is more than enough." She rises to leave but before she can, Raeha speaks again.

"Does your father have enough for Emeric's men?"

Mary pauses mid-step. She is unsure of the answer to that question.

With a deep sigh of empathy, Raeha nods in understanding, although Mary's back is turned and she cannot see this. "Akatosh be with your family."

"Thank you, Raeha. You as well."

Embarrassed, Mary scurries out of the temple, walking briskly away toward the southeastern edge of the Glenumbra Moors, where wild white grapes grow. As she walks, her thoughts turn to Elera and Jalik. They are likely holed up in their abandoned cabin of choice on the outskirts of town. Her ears burn hot at the thought of their rather frequent coition. It always amazes her how Elera manages to escape gravidity. To be with child outside of marriage in Aldcroft would be quite the scandal—she would have to be stoned to death.

It takes her quite a few minutes to make the trek to the Moors, but once there she wastes no time in picking grapes and putting them into the front pocket of her deep yellow waist apron. Humming a hymn to herself, she is completely unaware of her surroundings, and it proves to be detrimental.

Suddenly Mary feels a hand wrap around her waist, and before she can produce a sound of protest, she feels a hand cover her mouth. She stumbles backward, and one of her shoulder blades collides with the cold hard metal of armor.

"You really shouldn't be out here on your own. Something bad could happen to you," he sneers. His warm breath tickles her jaw. She thrashes against him, making muffled yelps and knocking her fists against his chainmail. The smell of cheap beer burns her nostrils. With his free hand, he removes the cowl upon her head and takes in a hearty sniff of her hair before throwing the cowl onto the ground and snaking his hand along the front of her body.

Just as he begins to fondle one of her breasts through the thick material of her dress, there is another voice, further into the Moors. "Oy, Kastian! Where are you? We have to keep moving! Come on!"

"Dammit." The soldier shoves Mary to the ground, onto her hands and knees. She refuses to look up at the man. He pauses. Realizing that she is avoiding eye contact, he grabs her head, jerks it up and positions his groin right in front of her face. "Hopefully I'll see you around, little wench," he gyrates his hips with a smirk, "and I'll fill you up so much, you won't need any of those grapes."

"Kastian COME ON!"

With a bitter laugh, the soldier leaves Mary there in the dirt, dazed and confused with tears in her eyes. She quickly wipes them away, refusing to allow them to spill over, and rises to her feet. As if nothing had happened, she continues filling her apron pocket with more grapes.

'Why didn't I get a good look at his face? Is it something I'm wearing? Is my dress too tight?'

Mary's thoughts are racing. She glances down at her dress and shakes her head. It is long, loose and not at all form-fitting, not to mention it is dusty and stained with age, as it is a hand-me-down from her older cousin.

With a deep breath, Mary suppresses her emotions and turns to head back to Aldcroft, looking over her shoulder every step of the way.

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When Mary finally gets home, her father has returned from his work in the mines, and he is resting on one of the chairs with a pillow on his head. He works all the way in northern Glenumbra, in Crosswych, and the journey to travel to and from is extremely demanding, both physically and mentally. Because of this, he alternates between working for a few days straight and staying home for an equal amount of time.

As she is putting the grapes she gathered earlier in a bowl, she hears commotion from outside the house. Curious, she ventures outside, absentmindedly grabbing the bowl with her, but she stops dead in her tracks at what she sees.

People are scurrying about in fear grabbing their belongings and rushing indoors, only to rush back out again with pouches in their hands. This means one thing and one thing only: the Lion Guard is here.

Antovina rushes back into the house, forgetting to take her shoes off at the doorstep, and the sand beneath them causes her to slip and fall onto the wooden floor. She wastes no time in getting back to her feet. She runs straight to her husband, yanks the pillow away from his face, and whispers to him frantically. "Aincard. Aincard, wake up!"

"What is it Anto, dear?" Aincard mutters, squeezing his eyes shut and grabbing for the pillow that is now thrown on the floor.

"Aincard, it's Emeric's men. They're here again."

Aincard's eyes snap open and at once he sitting up straight. He reaches into the hidden pocket of his travel cloak and retrieves a pouch of the family's tax savings. "Don't worry, Anto. After the soldiers passed through Crosswych, I knew they would reach Aldcroft soon enough. I just didn't think it would be so soon."

Aincard draws himself up to his full height, swinging his cloak behind him in the process. With an aura of faux confidence—something necessary when facing the Lion Guard—he steps out of the house and makes his way forward through the tangle of panicked people.

Antovina turns to face her son. "Jonan, go upstairs and stay there until I come get you."

Jonan nods his head obediently and runs up the creaky wooden stairs as fast as he can.

The Lion Guard rides in on their mighty mares, each one adorned in gold and red armor. They hastily dismount their horses and stick their Daggerfall Covenant staves into the ground, using them as anchors to secure their animals. One soldier spots a carpenter carving furniture with his tools on a table beside him. He storms over, swipes the tools off the table with his forearm, and hoists the table to the middle of the plaza.

Another soldier shouts above the rising murmur of the crowd. "By order of High King Emeric, every household is to pay one septim for Aldcroft, two septims for the king, and three septims for the Empire. Anyone who refuses will be punished accordingly."

'That voice...' Mary looks to the soldier who is shouting, but does not recognize the face. 'Could it be the same voice I heard from a distance in the Moors?'

"The orders are to give three septims for the Empire."

Snukh shifts his footing nervously. "Yes, but if you could just wait until the end of the month—"

"We are not here at the end of the month. We are here now. And we will collect all taxes."

"But I am injured, and my land has not been fruitful—"

"You do not pay with land." The soldier is becoming increasingly agitated. He pauses and stares at something behind Snukh.

Snukh turns around, and his face falls as he realizes what has caught the soldier's attention.

"Is that your daughter?"

"Yes, but—"

"She will work to pay your debt." The soldier snaps his fingers and proceeds to write something on the parchment paper in his hands.

Snukh's wife lets out a bloodcurdling scream as another soldier walks toward her and her daughter. "No! No, you can't take her!"

"Shelb! No, Shelb!" Mary lurches forward but finds herself being restrained by her mother.

"Mary," her mother whispers, "do not draw attention to yourself."

"But...but—"

"Maryona!" Antovina's whisper is harsh and silencing as she shifts her position so that her daughter is behind her, hidden from view. She glances at Aincard, who is next in line.

Tears fill Mary's eyes as she watches the soldier quickly tie Shelb's hands and swing her onto his horse before riding off with her towards Daggerfall.

A strangled sob leaves Mary's throat as her mother discreetly pushes her back into the house without turning around or even looking at her. Eyes darting around to make sure no one has seen her, Antovina closes the door on her daughter. Mary locks it and sinks to the floor, dejected. She can faintly hear the soldier speaking to her father.

"Let that be an example for you all. And you. One septim for Aldcroft, two septims for the king, and three septims for the Empire."

Aincard holds his breath as he places five septims in the soldier's hand.

"One more." The soldier's eyes narrow in distrust.

"That's all I have. I paid taxes in Crosswych. Surely you remem—"

"One more septim." The soldier's eyes flicker to Antovina, and she too holds her breath. "Is that your animal?" the soldier asks, pointing to the donkey foal sitting outside of their house.

"That's all I have!"

"It will suffice as payment for your debt. Next citizen." The soldier pushes Aincard aside to make room for the next person in line, and another soldier makes his way over to Antovina to seize the foal.

Behind the door, Mary sighs, partly in relief and in irritation.

"Don't be so quick to be relieved."

Mary stiffens. She doesn't dare turn her head.

"What? Surprised to see me again?

"Leave me alone." Mary whispers, finding a little bit of courage to stand and face him.

"Ooh, getting bold now, are we?" Kastian steps forward and grabs Mary's neck in his right hand.

"Please," Mary wheezes through her constricted throat.

The Imperial soldier chuckles, a low and throaty sound void of emotion. He pulls Mary closer to him until his lips are hovering just above hers. "I should have known you live in Aldcroft, hmm? I didn't think we would be finishing what we started so soon." He licks his lips. "I am going to enjoy this for sure."

He forces her to get on her knees, her neck still enclosed tightly by his hand. Mary claws at him, scratching him with her nails and digging her fingers into her own flesh in an effort to pry him off.

Kastian chuckles again as he frees his manhood from his armor with his free hand. He leans down to bring his lips to her ears, squeezing her neck again. "So help me Arkay, if I feel even the slightest bit of your teeth, I will make you wish you were never born."

Mary is in shock at what she sees before her. This is the very first penis she has come into sexual contact with. Of course, she knows that males are anatomically different from females, but she's only ever seen evidence of this from caring for the babies of the neighborhood and babysitting children who need assistance with bathing, her own brother included. In Elera's stories of sleeping with Jalik, she never got into nor cared for the fine details. She can see Kastian's cock is throbbing and covered with a thin sheen of sweat, not to mention the veins.

Growing impatient with the girl beneath him, the Imperial grabs a handful of chestnut hair from within her cowl and yanks her head back. Just as he expected, she gasps sharply in pain, parting her lips just enough for him to force his length into her warm mouth and against the back of her throat. He groans at the sensation of her confused tongue swirling around his shaft and clenches his jaw to keep himself quiet.

Mary feels herself running out of breath and begins to panic. She pushes against his upper legs, struggling to free herself from this demeaning position.

Kastian does not budge. Instead, he moves his hand from her neck to the back of her head and pushes down, causing her to gag. "Breathe through your nose, wench. I'm not letting up any time soon," he says with a smirk and he pushes himself deeper into her throat again.

This time, Mary gags more violently, enough to scare Kastian into thinking she may heave the contents of her stomach. He immediately pulls out. "Don't. Don't you dare."

Mary coughs and falls backward from her knees onto her rear. There are tears streaming from her eyes, because of both asphyxiation and humiliation.