In Over His Head Ch. 09

Edovan noticed immediately that something was different about this room. Something... unnerving. His eyes were taking longer than usual to adjust for some reason, and he felt strangely cut off and isolated somehow, though through the gloom he could see the room was a cozy size, with comfortable and well crafted Nord furniture, decorations and accoutrements. It was dark for the most part, only candles and few old fashioned lamps lit the room, and even then, not very well. No magical illumination. And it appeared at first glance to be completely devoid of any of the magical runes that had covered the outside of the building, or that had filled the entryway.

He looked behind himself again and noticed that this side of the large metal doors was blank, as well. He held out his hand and tried to summon forth Candlelight, a very rudimentary alteration spell that even the most neophyte mages could master. Nothing happened. He felt the word of power pass his lips, but then it just disappeared into nothingness, the sound never even reaching his ears. It was then he realized that even the large ornate jewel on his staff wasn't giving off any of its customary dark ruby light.

He was staring back and forth between the door and his staff in disbelief when he heard a dusky and seductive but strangely familiar female voice.

"What's the matter little mouse? Scared of strange, dark places? Hmmmmm?" It purred from somewhere directly behind and well above him.

Edovan whirled around quickly and found himself face-to-leather-clad-crotch with the owner of the sultry voice. He backed away unconsciously, as his eyes finally began to adjust to the darkness. She seemingly materialized in front of him as if from the shadows themselves. She was tall, long of leg, well proportioned, and tightly packed into skin tight black leather breeches and a reinforced leather bodice that reminded him a lot of Yagaritte's working outfit, except for the fact that these were armored in tiny black shiny scales that shimmered under the soft flames of the torches, candles and lanterns that were scattered through the room in a futile attempt to light it properly. If anything they only seemed to increase the shadows, if that was somehow possible.

His gaze swept upward, past her considerable bosom, to her face... and his heart leapt. That strong, but feminine chin! That confidant, if not somewhat predatory, smile... It had to be...

"Yag-" he started to call, but cut himself short as she stepped forward into the glow of a nearby lantern's light, illuminating her just enough for Edovan to distinguish her features more clearly.

It was as if Yagaritte had aged twenty years somehow. Same face, still beautiful, but lined with years of wisdom, and much colder and hungrier. This woman's long luxurious hair was also silvery white and braided down her back, and her eyes were a cold blue grey, like winter storms or icebergs, and though smiling, seemed to be giving off just about as much warmth. This was not Yagaritte, but she must be some kind of close kin for such a striking resemblance.

Edovan could feel the iciness of her eyes seeping into his spine. He shuddered. "Ah..." he intoned. Once again, unsure of himself and having zero idea of what was happening in his life.

"Are you...?" he trailed off.

"Yes. I'm the Commander," she said matter of factly, and slowly came down on one knee in front of him, those ice cold eyes still boring through him, and now from much closer.

"And you must be the "Little Mouse" I keep hearing so much about." Her voice was dark and throaty, with the barest hint of a growl, and now from this distance, he noticed her teeth seemed brighter and sharper somehow and her mouth was larger. It was almost as if Yagaritte had been turned into some sort of sentient humanoid sabrecat.

Even down on one knee, just like Yagaritte, she towered over him, his head being eye level with her bust. She reached out her hand and lightly, but firmly, grasped his chin, turned his head slightly side to side, staring intently at his face. He did not resist her. Lizard brain was gleefully pointing out that her ample cleavage was now just inches from his face, and though it was not quite as ample as Yagaritte's. it was certainly ample enough to conjure up that memory of when they had first met, and she had pinned him to the wall. Logical brain was certain that if THIS woman had been there that day instead of Yagaritte, he wouldn't be standing here today.

Yagaritte, for all her scariness, could be warm, soft and inviting, both in voice and body. This woman appeared to be ice, ice... and... more ice. Her face was cold, glacial, unreadable to him.

She released his chin and grasped his ears, slowly rubbing her thumb around the inside curves in a way that made him flush red, sending shivers down his spine, and then squeezing the pointed tips. What on earth was she doing? He finally got up the courage to say something.

"Ma'am... I..."

She cut him off, her hands dropping from his ears to grasp his arms through his coat.

"Where are you from, Little Mouse?" She said, squeezing his forearms, and then his biceps, experimentally with her strong hands while staring intently at him with those iceberg eyes.

"Wayrest... in Highrock." He'd blurted it out, without even thinking. Not a cover story, not a hastily thought up fabrication, but the truth. He'd spoken the truth. Curse the Nine...

"Interesting..." was all she said in response. Her hands moved from his arms down to his chest. She poked him. Lightly at first, but then harder.

"And you are full Bosmer?" she questioned.

"Ow. Yes ma'am." he nodded.

Her hands continued their examination down his body; poking, prodding, occasionally squeezing. Eventually drifting down to his hips. Gripping him tightly on either side, she pulled him a little closer to her, so close that his face was actually between her prodigious bosoms, but without touching them. He stood, frozen in place, daring not to move lest he brush into them. He had no idea what she was doing. Was it some kind of physical exam? Much to lizard brain's disappointment, there didn't seem to be anything sexual about her touch, and though he did feel somewhat violated, as usual, he had no ability to resist.

"And what of your parents?"

"I-... they-... are... gone..." was his only response.

The emotion hit him suddenly, the wounds far fresher than he expected. But it gave him strength. Strength to say something. Strength to pull back. Strength to say no if he wanted.

But it turned out not to be necessary. Her examination halted abruptly and she stood to her feet and leaned back against the large dwemer table she had clearly commandeered for her own use. He was relieved to no longer be hovering amidst her cleavage, only to find he was now well between her long, athletic looking, scaled leather clad legs, which she splayed out on either side of him as she perched herself on the edge of the desk.

"I'm feeling a little warm. Hope you don't mind if I..."

She wiped her brow, which indeed had a slight sheen of sweat suddenly, and then nonchalantly undid the top 3 stays on her already revealing black leather bodice, the effect of which was to magnify the presence of her cleavage by a factor of 374, possibly more. It was Yagaritte's bedroom all over again. The slight differences in the physical appearances of the two women were melting away with the sweat that was now beading on her chest, threatening to trickle into the pale valley between at any moment. Her skin was creamy white, just as pale as Svie's, only where Svie had hints of pink flushing her skin, the Commander's was pure alabaster with a tinge of blue.

She ignored his slackjawed gaping and continued with her questioning.

"That's quite a large staff you have there. I trust you know how to use that." she said with a smirk that reminded him so much of Yagaritte he was about to lose his mind. It also didn't help that she seemed to be subconsciously moving her hips back and forth, almost imperceptibly, like her leathers were chaffing and she needed to scratch some unseen itch she couldn't reach without disrobing.

"Y... y... y... yes Ma'am!" he stammered

"Good," she replied wiping her forehead again. "We have been in need of someone with arcane expertise for quite some time. You are formally trained? The Academia Magica is in Evermore, if I remember correctly?"

She was still squirming. More obviously now. Like she had a mouse in her breeches, her whole hips rolling sinuously back and forth in front of him, but it was lost on him. His mind was whirling. How could she have known? Did she know who he was? What he was running from? His heart was beating out of his chest, but he did his best to appear as calm as possible in front of her.

"I believe it is," was his only response. He gave it as flatly as he could, hoping not to disperse any information he wanted to keep to himself.

He looked at her with as neutral a face as he could muster, but said nothing further. It was only then he noticed her movements and the fact that her legs, which he was still standing well between, were slowly closing. Her knees now just inches from his own hips on either side. Now it was his turn to wipe sweat from his brow.

After what seemed like an eternity of silence, and him trying not to stare at her breasts, or her increasingly animated hips, she finally spoke again.

"Hmmm. That's odd. It definitely seems to be getting warmer in here, don't you think?" she asked, a hand coming up to fan fruitlessly at her face.

She leaned down toward him.

"Or maybe it's just you?"

Edovan looked up at her with a mix of apprehension and confusion. Oh no... not her too, he thought to himself. Suddenly she was down on her knees in front of him. Her legs apart, her knees resting on either side of him so she could stare him right in the eye just inches from him but not touching. She leaned in close, almost face to face, but hesitant. She licked her lips unconsciously and then her mouth parted, and for a second he thought she was going to kiss him, but she only continued speaking.

"I've heard of you, you know. You're kind of famous. All the women in town are talking about you. To be honest, I wanted to see you for myself. See if you really do have this strange effect on women... or if it was just a bunch of whores and housewives gossiping on about the little golden boy who landed on our shores. Not many around here have seen elves before... let alone Bosmer. So it makes sense that everyone would be obsessed with you based on that alone. A young, handsome Bosmer boy, a mage no less, and one of such tiny stature... all alone on an island full of pent up Nord women who, thanks to the war, outnumber the men nearly 2 to 1. You would be a hot commodity under those circumstances by themselves. But I wanted to know if there was something else going on. Some spell, or..." she paused briefly. "A curse even. Perhaps you weren't even Bosmer? Some daedra in disguise?" she conjectured curiously.

She was moving closer to him as she spoke. Her legs closing around him. Her breasts almost brushing against him. He could somehow feel their weight, their warmth.

"This room. I know you noticed. I don't know how or why, but the Dwemer architects who created it made it cancel out all magic somehow. If you were magically disguised or using some enchantment, some glamour to alter your appearance, it would have dissolved the moment you stepped through those doors. Likewise any magical curse would have been momentarily lifted. And yet you still stand before me like a tiny golden god with no change at all. Oh, and I CAN feel it. This strange pull you have..." she said quietly, almost with soft groan.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head back and opened her generous mouth wide, exposing her sharpened canines and leaving Edovan to stare down her glistening pink throat. Then, just as suddenly, she closed her mouth and laughed. And it wasn't Yagaritte's full, warm, belly-laugh, either. It was a low chuckle, and conveyed that the owner of the laugh was thinking the most salacious thoughts possible.

"I can sense you with my eyes closed. Smell you in my nose, taste you on my tongue. My nethers are quivering even as we speak. It's like I can't decide if I want to bed you, marry you, or just eat you all up somehow. Maybe all three?"

She looked down on him with those predatory eyes. "I must confess, I am of a bit of man-eater myself. They actually call me 'The Dragon', though in truth that's only one of many reasons."

She chuckled again when she saw the look of abject terror on his face at that announcement.

"That means I tend to go through men. I never settle down. So the fact that I want to lay you or even eat you or is far less surprising to me than the fact that part of me wants to actually wed you. Especially since I barely know you. There is definitely something strange going on with you, so since I know about it, I'm not even going to try to fight it, if that's ok with you? After all I can't really be responsible for my actions now can I?" She grinned down at him lasciviously.

Edovan had no idea what she meant by that, though several possibilities came to mind, all of which Lizard brain heartily approved and logical brain sternly was against. He was conflicted inside as usual, so of course he just simply nodded.

"But, nevermind that for now," she told him, licking her lips. "It's still morning. And I haven't... eaten... Just enough time to have you for breakfast," she purred as she leaned down toward him again with a wicked toothy smile on her over generous mouth.

"Sadly enough, though, she said I couldn't eat you, isn't that a rude thing to demand?... but... she didn't say I couldn't feed you... " she murmured, her cleavage hanging above him like an avalanche of snow-white flesh threatening to bury him.

Suddenly she leaned back up and pushed away from the table she had been leaning against and turned away from him. Bending down over the low table, she left Edovan to stare at her shapely leather clad behind as she reached for something on its surface. When she turned back around, much to logical brain's relief (and lizard brain's extreme disappointment) she held out a metal tray covered with fruit, large hunks of roasted sausages, and even a sweet roll!

"Are you a hungry little mouse?" she asked him.

She gestured to a small stool beside the huge dwemer table she was using as a desk, setting the tray down in front of it. She patted the stool, indicating for Edovan to join her as she sat down beside it.

Edovan stared at her, dumbfounded. "Of... of course!" he squeaked out, the flush slowly leaving his cheeks. As if on cue, his stomach rumbled, eliciting a chuckle from the woman. He climbed the stool and sat down gratefully with a soft sigh of relief. Even though the table was low to her, it was still massive to him... taller even than a "regular" Bosmer-sized table.

Before he had even climbed the stool and settled down, she had already gotten a plate for him, which she was currently piling high with meat. "Have you had curdled mammoth cheese before?" she asked him, as she was slicing from a wheel of what Edovan assumed to be curdled mammoth cheese. He shook his head no.

"It's a Nord delicacy, and one of my favorites," she said, as she put a generous slice of cheese onto Edovan's plate.

Edovan watched her move, arms deft and sinewy, muscles rippling just underneath the surface of her skin as she reached from tray to plate, and back again. But even as he marveled at her, he could feel a coldness seeping into him. He jerked his eyes up and caught her watching him. Her eyes delved right into his soul and straight out the other side. He was suddenly grateful Yagaritte hadn't quite inherited these eyes, though, as he well knew, she had her own piercing look...

"Ah... thank you," he squeaked out, looking down at his plate, unable to hold that gaze for long.

She smirked. "I'm a huge meat-eater..." she purred, playing with the pile of meat on the tray. "But my favorite is sausages..." she said, as she deftly skewered a huge one on the end of her fork and then slipped it into her large mouth and halfway down her throat somehow, before biting down into it with those sharp canines, as juices dribbled out of it and down her chin. She closed her mouth around it and swallowed the entire bite whole, her cold eyes watching him to make sure he was watching her as she flipped the fork around and the other half disappeared into her mouth in another single bite.

Edovan jerked, groaning softly. "S-sausages..." he repeated, swallowing thickly. "Um... yes, they're good," he agreed. He understood her meaning, but he didn't want to... encourage it. Did he? Or didn't he? He couldn't decide if he should be totally passive or try to ward her advancements off by playing dumb, so long as he stayed on her good side. Not that he had to play too hard. He swallowed again. "I..." he murmured, trailing off.

She chuckled again, leaning over Edovan's plate. "Do you know how to use your hands?" she asked him, taking his hand into her own. She brought his hand up to her face, licking her lips. "It's very important for a young man to exercise his fingers, you know..." she trailed off, examining his fingers closely. She seemed pleased with what she saw, biting her lip as she took his hand and set it on her own knee, sliding it up between her thighs

"Well, are you going to eat?" she asked him.

Edovan, as red as ever, could only nod. Eat? Eat what!? He was receiving so many different signals. Oh gods. What had he gotten himself into... what had Staan gotten him into!? He looked back and forth between his plate and her lap. He felt his face burning, but at the same time... his stomach growled again. He squeezed his eyes closed and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly through his nose. When he opened his eyes again he saw that she was holding a fork in front of his face, a bit of meat, cheese, and vegetables skewered through the tines. "Are you going to eat?" she repeated.

Edovan all but collapsed into a relieved pile, all the tension leaving his body. He was safe, for the moment, at least. He took the fork from her gratefully and shoveled it into his face.

"That's more like it," she said, nodding as she watched him eat. He had, on par with almost any Nord she'd ever met, a healthy appetite. It was a scant ten minutes later when he used the last bit of his sweet roll to sop up meat juice from his bare plate. He popped it into his mouth and patted his stomach contentedly, exhaling happily. Whomever had cooked this meal knew their way around a kitchen, that was certain.

While he was engrossed in eating, the commander had gotten up from her place at his side and was moving around the room behind him. Now that he was finished, he was about to to turn around and see what she was up to when he suddenly he felt her hot breath in his ear, her lips so close they they softly brushed the bottom of his ear lobe. That sent shivers down lizard brain's spine.

"Well, now that you're a happy, fat little mousey, I think we've talked enough about your past. Let's talk about your future, shall we? And this is a long, but necessary, speech, so I would grab a chair if I were you," she said, and pointed to a Nord size wooden one a few feet to his left, hiding in the shadows. It was ornately carved and quite heavy, with leather upholstery on the back and the seat.

As he hopped down from his stool and wrestled the enormous chair over to a spot a bit more comfortably away from where she liked to lean against her desk, he inwardly sighed a huge sigh of relief at the change of subjects. He wasn't just protecting himself. Bad things happened to anyone who he confided in, trusted, or who figured out too much on their own. People had been hurt. Good people. And it was all his fault just for being around them. It was the main reason he'd come to this remote island, hundreds of miles from anywhere. But even here, he was still worried about what might happen. Better to play it safe and keep it to himself... from the Commander, from Staan, from Yagaritte. Everyone.