11
"You saved my life," she murmured, her green eyes wide. Meteors begin smashing to the ground all around them. She stands still for a moment before diving and weaving out of the way. She raised Spellbreaker above her head as flaming rocks rained down.
He was motionless a long time after the last meteorite crashed to Nirn, his nostrils flared, bursts of breath visible in the cold. He nodded sagely, regally. Her life was his. Her loyalty was his.
" Yes ." His eyes narrowed to slits briefly as the corner of her tusked mouth lifted a little. Her head raised, green eyes flash, her white aura intensified, blinding him a split second. There is a scent on the air he recognizes, and it surprises him.
Arousal.
It surrounds him like the wind, assaulting him. He does not react and forces his heartbeat to remain staid. This does not interest him.
"You saved my life," she repeated, baring her teeth. She smiles. He does not move. The fact that she had repeated herself confused him. He had clearly heard her the first time, he had answered her.
" Yes ." He billowed more smoke and air through flared nostrils. She sheathed her sword and put Spellbreaker away. Again, he does not move, he watches. Her scent wafts towards him, dancing on the air, barely there but gaining in pungency.
His eyes widened as she reached up and removed her orcish armour. The plate, the greaves, her weapon, her shield. All drop to the snowy ground unheeded. Her aroma engulfs him now, his head raises slightly, and his long, forked tongue twirls in his mouth, in behind his teeth.
"Become human," she ordered, advancing on him wearing nothing but her smalls, the bottom half visibly wet.
The demand snaps his attention back into focus.
He rears back as though she slapped his snout, wings splaying wide, holding his massive weight. His neck arches and his tail swishes along the snow, sending it flying like a cloud. She had dared to command him ! His large mouth opened, bearing teeth the length of swords, saliva dripped from his maw. His scales shudder with offense.
She knows before he makes a sound that she has overstepped her bounds. She freezes, her scent changes. His chest rumbles and the earth shakes from the vibrations he sends through the ground. He Shouts the first word of Unrelenting Force, sending her crashing back.
" You dare ?" He snarled, glowing red eyes brightening in his fury. He follows her body, moving with speed she hadn't expected. She gasped, the sound barely heard. He is Akatosh's first born. No dragon is his equal. His all encompassing black aura pours from his scales, surrounding her.
There was a moment he debated eating her and ending it all. He had the Elder Scroll. She had fulfilled his quest, and he had rewarded her already. What further use to him was this orc?
There was a hesitation on his part as he stood over her in his dragon form. His very aura that suppresses and terrifies was having a different... reaction...
He stills completely as the Dragonborn moans. This is not a sound of fear. He blinks. Her green arms roamed over her muscular body, the bra is shoved down and fingers pull at the bone piercing the nipple. She writhes in the snow, and the other hand reaches into her bottoms.
Her stench attacks him. Disgust should be felt, rather his mouth waters. He swallows, his eyes narrowing further as he stares down at the orc. He is confused by this behaviour. Her reaction to his aura of darkness has never happened before.
His aura shows him bravery. Displays the worth of those that stand before him. Worthless souls cower and run, unable to face his overwhelming presence. Slaves for his great race. Her reaction... her mouth opens, he focuses on her again suddenly, she arches in the snow, the hand in her bottoms moving with fervour.
This. His tongue twirls once as she growls, the sound animalistic. This is not what has ever happened. Muscles tense across his frame as she growls again, the sound familiar and, yet, not. A mixture of dragon and mer.
She sits up briefly and removes her bottoms. She is nude, her essence unblocked by barriers. His teeth tighten in his mouth, and his maw floods with saliva. The orc returns to her ministrations, unaffected by the cold, or the snow that surrounds her. A dov trait.
The comparison insults him. Dragons souls do not belong in the body of men. Again he thinks of ending it all, his tongue slaps against the walls of his fangs. She lacks armour.
Her legs spread, fingers working the nub of flesh. His mouth opens, liquid dribbles onto the Dragonborn. She moans and rubs his saliva into her skin, using it like lubrication. This affects him strangely. Scales shift, eyes become slits.
He remains unmoving until she keens, her beastial roar orcish rather than dragon. Again, it offends him. He says nothing. He watches.
He was.... curious.
