The Hunter and the Thalmor

Chapter 4

4

    His tongue pushed past her lips to tangle with hers while both her arms wrapped around his neck ( oh but he was a good kisser ... Not that she had anything to compare him with). Aya groaned against his mouth and would have probably made a fool of herself had he not suddenly pulled away from her. His hands had gone to hers to disentangle them from around his neck before he got to his feet (his food left forgotten on the bed roll) and moved away from her. His back was turned to her.

    "That was uncalled for. I'm sorry," he apologized quickly, not daring to look at her. He stood a few feet away from her.

    The fires of rejection flared brightly for her but she licked her lips and smiled at his back as though she wasn't hurt (which she very much was). "It's okay," she spoke clearly and immediately moved to her wolf pelts.

    She wasn't as surprised as she should have been (not really...) by his spurning. That he had kissed her had shocked her to the core though, and she had loved every second of it. She could still feel his lips on hers and raised her hand to her mouth gently as though she could still feel them against hers.

    "It's not okay," he murmured, "I..." he trailed off and she saw his shoulders sag, as though defeated, she barely heard his soft words, "I've been wanting to do that for a while." He put his hands to his hips and she noticed his head lowering, as he continued, "But I'm a Thalmor agent, and you're a Nord," he said as though that explained everything.

    "So?" her eyes peered at his back, and then she gasped as his words dawned on her like the Throat of the World falling on her head. Of course that was the problem. She wasn't an Altmer (a barbaric Nord, can we say furthest thing from?)... or a Thalmor and she worshipped Talos (could she have any more strikes against her?).

    He sighed heavily, but remained silent.

    "Why does you being a Thalmor and me being a Nord matter to anyone else but us ?" she asked his back and then felt a stab of pain as she continued despite her common sense screaming at her to shut up, "And really who has to know that you sullied yourself with a savage Nord in the wilds of Skyrim except for us ."

    "I didn't say that," he finally turned to glare at her. His yellow eyes narrowing to mere slits.

    "No, but you implied it," she couldn't stop the words and to her horror, tears filled her eyes (fuck). She was quick to look away and didn't notice as he approached; she didn't want him to see her crying. It wasn't until he crouched in front of her and grabbed her chin with a studded glove to turn her head towards him, that she did.

    Her lashes fluttered as she blinked back the tears but she met his unblinking amber stare dead on. She wasn't a coward to back down, not now.

    "You are not a savage," he spoke slowly (his thumb caressed her chin), and he meant it. She was knowledgeable in ways that had surprised him and had embarrassed him.

    "We should turn in." She pulled her face from his grip and threw a log on their fire before wrapping herself in the pelts and laying down, her back to him.

    There was a heavy silence that permeated the air between them. The wood popping and crackling the only thing disrupting the stillness that surrounded them. Ancano stared at the back of her head for a long while before he mentally squared his shoulders. He owed her this.

    "The Aldmeri Dominion control everything about my life," he eventually spoke, moving to sit beside her. She didn't say a word as he continued, "I'm not free to choose anything, not my friends, not my lovers. Not even my wife," he swallowed, and looked down at the ground, "Before coming to Skyrim I had just requested to be allowed to seek a partner," he blew out a breath as he stared into the fire, his voice was stable but she could hear the underlying bitterness (or maybe she was thinking she heard it cause she sure as Oblivion felt it) "She would, of course, be one of those selected few the Dominion would have singled out for a mage of my caliber; to produce the next generation."