Dragonborn Girlfriend: Vyre (rough draft)

I started noticing some strange things a few days ago. There were some noises at first, some bushes moving. I just figured it was some animals around the cave. But then I started noticing other things like tracks in the mud, strange markings at the outside of my cave, along with discarded apple cores and missing plants from my garden. Perhaps I had something bigger than the usual rabbit or mole sneaking around.

I had been living out here on my own for a while. I don’t mind keeping to myself, it’s better than the alternative. So seeing signs of life out here bigger than a rabbit, but smaller than a moose, is quite disturbing to me. I laid a trap, hoping to catch whatever has been stealing from me and stalking around my property. Although the trap and whatever was thieving from my garden was gone by morning. There were traces of blood in the dirt and on some of the plants as well. Hopefully, this warning was enough to scare them off. And if that didn’t do it, then the foreboding storm clouds above would be the finishing touch.

Thunderstorms around here were no joke. I’ve been all over this world, and the rains here seem to fall heavier, harder, and meaner than most. The sky sounds threatening, and the darkness that surrounds them before and feel like deathly omens. Not to mention it can get so cold.

Later in the evening, I had to go to the mouth of the cave to fetch some wood from the box. As I stepped outside my door I could smell blood. My nostrils flared and there was a burning in my chest. The blood was close, and I could taste the warmth of it upon my tongue. It had been so long since I had been overcome by this feeling. I took a few deep breaths and went towards the firewood box. Whatever was bleeding was sitting just on the other side of it. I came around, seeing a damp soggy creature curled up against the corner, huddled to the box. The scent of blood was so strong, so overpowering. It gave me memories of battles, of my teeth sinking into flesh. I turned my head, catching a cold breath of rain and moss.

I came closer to the figure, seeing the leg was stretched out and wrapped crudely with ripped cloth. I gently lifted the hood to see what I was dealing with. It was you, a human woman. You were unconscious and pale, soaking wet from the rain, bleeding heavily from the trap I had laid. I suddenly felt very guilty. But who on earth would come back to the place where they had been injured. A fool perhaps. A desperate fool maybe.

I took you inside against my better judgement. I dressed the wound, wrapping it properly to help stop the bleeding. I removed the wet clothes and laid you on my bed to rest. You looked small and helpless, I suppose I am a fool as well.

The storm raged on, thunder booming as loudly as cannons, and yet you didn’t budge. I watched you as you slept, wondering how you can sleep so peacefully in such chaos. I must have dozed off in my chair, because I am woken by the sound of you stumbling out of bed. You’re on the floor, barely able to walk from your injury. You’ve made it quite far though as you’ve reached your clothes drying by the fire.

I get up from my chair and you cry out, ducking down and covering your head. “I won’t hurt you. But you do have a lot of explain to do. You’ve been thieving from my garden for a while now.” I stand before you, crossing my arms against my chest. “Come no, get up.”

You remain hoveled on the floor, whimpering softly.

“Get up,” I commanded, but you still didn’t move.

I grabbed you at the nape of the neck like a kitten and placed you back into my bed. You scurry away, going to the corner.

“I told you, I’m not going to hurt you. You’re far too close to death for my tastes.” I pulled up a chair and sat down. “All I want is an answer as to why you’re thieving from me.”

I saw your eyes for the first time, they’re quite large and dark in color. You whimpered again, as you slowly began to rise. Your hair fell in your face and I noticed how choppy and uneven it was. Some pieces were long and flowing while others are sharp chops and jagged layers. There’s cut marks on your hands as well.

“I-I wuh-wuh-was ju-just hung-hungry,” you stammered.

It doesn’t take a genius to piece enough together to understand this motive. “Have you run away?” I ask.

You looked at me, eyes wide and mouth pressed firmly together. You looked near tears but would dare not release a single moist drop. You nod. “Ye-yes.”

I sighed heavily. This was not something I wanted to tend to. I had turned my back on people long ago. It never ended well. That’s why I came here, I was miles and miles from anyone or anything. That meant you were lost and had been traveling for days, weeks maybe, on your feet. My garden was probably the first good meal you had gotten in all that time. No wonder you would risk staying around.

“You do realize how far away from anything you are, right?” I asked you. “No one would ever find you out here.”

You stifled a scream and ducked your head back down.

“You can’t walk out of here either,” I grumbled. “I suppose I am stuck with you until you can.”

You looked back at me, wide eyes trying to figure me out.

“Can you cook? Clean?” I asked.

“Ye-yes,” you stammered again.

I nodded, rising from my chair. “Then you can work off your debt to me while you get better. You owe me quite a few vegetables and apples, young lady.”

You slowly raised your head again, staring at me in disbelief. “Yu-you won’t eat me?” Your voice warbled.

“I told you, you’re not worth it to kill.” I then laid my hand over my chest. “My name is Vyre.”

You looked at me, strangely quiet and timid. You turned your eyes down and nodded. “I puh-promise nuh-not to be a-a burden, Mistress Vyre.”

“Just Vyre,” I scolded. “Once your debt is paid, you’ll be gone from here. So do not get attached. I care not what you’re running from or why. I just want you out.”

You nodded shakily.

“Rest for now,” I grumbled. “Nothing to do around here while it rains anyways.”

Your fingers were worrying over the way your hair was cut. “I ca-can cook.”

“I have soup on already. I’d rather finish it off than start anything new.” The look on your face confused me. It was as if you were scared I was going to do something if you didn’t. “You can make bread later if you want,” I offered and relief swept over you.

Over the next few days you attempted to try and do things around my home. You polished some of my silver and cleaned where I kept my firewood. I gave you a walking stick so you could move around my home without having to rely on your injured leg. You hobbled about my home, meek and scared at first. You tried to keep as busy as you could, but with the injury to your leg, you struggled. No matter what I said, it felt like you feared coming to a stop. I wasn’t sure what you were running from, but in the back of my mind I kept thinking that perhaps we were running from the same thing.

One afternoon you were in the kitchen kneading dough. You had been making bread steadily the past couple of days while you kept adding to my soup, extending the life of it longer than I expected it to. You had your sleeves rolled up, and I could see scars around your wrists and up your arms. I had scars of my own, ones that I thought were bad. The ones on you though made me think twice.

“Your bread is really good,” I told you. I’m unsure why I paid the compliment, I suppose I just wanted to. “Keep up the good work.” I patted the top of your head. The look you then gave me, floored me. Your big eyes opened wide and for the first time I saw no fear in them. There was almost a smile, but it vanished before it even began. I walked away, unsure how to take such an expression.

The bread that evening was beautifully made. It looked like you had really put all of your efforts into making it an attractive loaf. You watched me expectantly as I took my first bite. I didn’t like being watched like this, especially when eating.

“You don’t have to worry,” I told you. “It’s good.”

Your smile tried to appear again, but it never fully came out. “Th-thank you.” You began eating, having waited for me to take my first bite before you did.

“Did you come from the north?” I asked you. “Judging from the way you make bread and extend the soup, that’s just what I assume.”

You nodded.

“You’ve wandered farther than I first expected then,” I murmured. “How long have you been on your own.”

You shook your head. “I duh-don’t kn-know.”

I looked back down. “All that mattered was that you never looked back.”

“Y-yes,” your voice went soft and quiet.

I took another piece of bread and dipped into the soup. “That I can understand.”

You brought in rainwater that evening you collected in buckets. You warmed it over the fire, watching the flames peacefully for a moment. You then turned and looked back at me.

“Vyre?” You chripped. “Wou-would you luh-like a buh-bath?”

I shook my head. “I clean my scales with oil. Water dries me out far too much.”

“Y-your scales a-are puh-puh-pretty,” you said softly. “Ruh-red is my fuh-favorite color.”

I looked up just in time to catch a hint of a smile. But you turned away just when I could see. I sighed, looking back down at the book in my hand. “Thank you,” I muttered.

Once the water was warm, you hauled it back to the mouth of the cave where you intended to bathe. Later, I heard gentle sobbing from the door. I peered out the window, seeing you sitting there beside the water with your head in your hands. There’s a brush on the ground before you with a large chunk of hair caught in it.

My judgement was not sound, because I found myself stepping out into the cave. You flinched and looked at me. The tears in your eyes had been threatening to show themselves all this time, but this was the first actual time I had seen them.

“I’m suh-sorry!” You bowed down, keeping your arms ovr your bare chest.

I knelt down before you. “I can cut your hair if you’d like. It grows back anyways.”

You raised your eyes, looking at me as more tears came.

“It will be short for a while, but I think it will be better than what you’ve been dealing with.” I took your brush and cleaned it out. “The birds can use it to make nests.”

You sniffled and tears poured from your eyes. I didn’t know then why you wept so. But I came to understand how kindness was a rarity for you. I cut off your hair, making it even to the shortest chop. It was short, coming just below your ears. You fingers sifted through the locks on the ground, but there was a sense of relief to you as well.

“Th-thank you.”

I patted the top of your head. “It was nothing at all.” I looked down, seeing scars on your back and shoulders. I had suffered some beatings in my lifetime, and I’m sure my back looks the same. But I was raised for this, trained my whole life to suffer. I doubt you were. You turned your head, curious as to why I was so still.

“Come inside when you’re done,” I stood up quickly. “It’s getting cold.” I went back inside, taking my seat back before the fire. Why was this bothering me? Why was your presence beginning to take hold me?

You seemed brighter after your haircut. It really did appear as if a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. Your smile had always been tricky to spy, but more often than not I could see it beginning to blossom more and more. When it wasn’t raining, you helped me in the garden, although I insisted on taking care of it by myself.

One evening, as you served me dinner, you had this strange look upon your face. “What’s the matter?” I asked.

“I ca-can wuh-walk on my o-own,” you stammered out. You were clutching your hands together tightly, rubbing them around and then twisting your fingers. “I sh-should leave in the mor-mor-morning.”

It shocked me and I am unsure why. “Oh, right.” I cleared my throat. “Of course.” I looked down at my food, the thick slice of bread upon my plate. “Where will you be going?”

“I’m nuh-not sure.” You sat back down at the table.

“You’ll find your way.” I started eating.

You remained still, not touching your food or even lifting your hands to the table. You just sat there still while I ate. You sniffled and took a stilted breath. “I wuh-want to st-stay he-here,” you spit it out as confidently as you could.

I looked up from my plate, setting my spoon down by the bowl. “This is no place for a young woman such as yourself. I’m here alone for a reason.”

“Buh-but-”

“No,” I said sternly. “I have enjoyed you here, but my mind will not be swayed. You can’t stay here. No good will come of it.”

You lowered your head again.

“You do understand what dragonborn are capable of right? What sort of strength we have. What sort of damage we can inflict?”

You remained still.

“I am not a friend. I was never raised to be anything more than a predator,” I keep going on, hoping it would scare you. “I am a hunter, and assassin. Someone like you would be nothing to my abilities.” I pick up my spoon again. “That’s why I am out here. So I don’t get used again.”

“Muh-me too,” you whimpered.

I looked at you, seeing your eyes filling with tears again.

“I duh-don’t want to get u-used a-again. Nuh-no more!” You slammed your palms down upon the table. “I wuh-would ra-rather die here!”

I took a slow, purposeful breath then laid my arms upon the table. “Are you asking me to kill you?”

Tears splashed down your cheeks.

“If you wanted to die, then why have you fought this entire time. You could have died after getting caught in my trap, but you fought it. You ran all the way from the north. You don’t want to die.”

You looked at me, fear and desperation in your eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I sneered. “Don’t try to beg me for something I can’t give you. Go south, follow the rivers. You’ll find kindness along the way that is better than mine.”

You bowed your head down again.

“I’ll give a dagger before you go,” I said simply. “So you can protect yourself.”

“O-okay. Th-thank you.”

That night, you laid down on your bed quietly. Your back was turned and the blankets were pulled up around you. I went outside, deciding to take a bath like you had. I took my oils, a special blend I made on my own. I stripped down, rubbing oil into my scales. I wiped away access with a cloth. The color became much deeper as I cleaned. Flecks of gold appeared as I wiped away the dust and debris from my scales.

“Cuh-can I he-help?”

I looked to you in the doorway, watching me quietly with a shy gaze upon your face. Your cheeks were red, your eyes hazy. I turned and looked at the bottle. “You should be asleep.”

You eased out of the door. “I wuh-want to he-help.”

I sighed and handed the bottle to you. “My back is hard to reach.”

You took the bottle and moved behind me.

“A little goes a long way, so be careful.” I felt your warm hands upon my back. They felt like sun-dappled rocks by the river. I closed my eyes, trying to ignore how much my body ached for this touch. It had been so long, been needed, and yet I ignored it. Your palms along my back, your fingers brushed against the base of my tail. I was bothered by how much I liked your hands.

“Y-you’re shaking,” you chirped.

“That’s enough.” I stood up. “I’ll take care of the rest.” I felt heated from my core. My skin ached and was pulled towards you. “Go back to bed.”

“Be-beautiful,” you whispered.

My tail shook and I feared looking back at you.

“Y-you’re beautiful,” you murmured again. You stood and placed your hand upon my arm. “Vyre.” Your voice was like honey, I couldn’t stand it.

“Go back to bed,” I whispered shakily.

Your hand slipped down my arm and took hold of mine. “Y-you too.”

If I looked at you, I was done. “It’s late.”

You gently tugged my hand. “It is.”

I chuckled softly and turned to look down upon you. You were smiling, the first time I ever saw it directly. You looked sweet and shy, but also so beautiful. I touched your cheek, pushing aside your hair so it wasn’t stuck against your skin.

“I can’t,” my voice cracked.

“I wa-want to th-thank you,” your lips trembled. “Fo-for being suh-so kind.”

“I don’t want thanks. Not like this,” I shook my head. “Go back to bed, you don’t owe me anything anymore.”

You stepped closer to me, placing your hand upon my chest. “I wa-want to.” Your fingers slipped down to my stomach. “Y-you’re so be-beautiful.”

I grabbed your hand and held it away from me. I gazed into your eyes, seeing a spark of fire inside them I’d never seen before. Your smile was soft and honest, it begged for more than my gaze.

I let you lead me back inside. On the bed we sat together and you stripped away your clothes. You pressed your soft body against mine, letting your skin become slick with oil. You kissed my shoulder, and I shuddered at the soft touch. Your breasts rested against my side and the dark thought of them on my teeth made me quiver.

“Wo-would you luh-like more?” You whispered.

“I dare not ask,” I whispered.

You kissed my shoulder again, pressing your whole body against me. You felt so soft and warm, my head was swimming. “I’m nuh-not scared.”

“You should be,” I rasped.

Your lips pressed to my cheek and neck. I felt the searing heat of your little wet tongue against my throat. It made me shudder, made me weak. A low moan from your throat might as well have been a dagger in my ribs. I grasped a tight hold of your shoulder and forced you back.

“Let me breathe,” I growled.

Your smile was inflaming, making me want to bite your lips. “I wa-want to ma-make you feel guh-good.”

“You’ve hidden this part of yourself all this time,” I gulped. “Or are you trying to act to keep my favor?” I pushed you down upon the bed, your supple body on display for me. Parts of you glowed from the oil on your skin, making you looked decadent.

“I luh-like you Vyre,” you whimpered.

Words have never wounded me before. I grabbed hold of one of your breasts and squeezed it, palpating it in my hand until I saw the rogue of your cheeks turn dark and hot. I dipped down, taking the erect nipple into my mouth. I nibble it, torture it, lapping it with my tongue. Your moans came out honest but quiet.

I lifted my head, bearing my sharp teeth to you. “I could rip out your throat here. I could bite into your thigh and watch you bleed to death. Either would not be my first time.”

You reached up, touching my face. “I tuh-told you I wo-would rather duh-die here.”

I am weaker than I thought. “Why?” I hissed.

Your smile returned, sweet than before. “Y-you.”

I kiss you, no teeth, no anger. I just kiss you to feel it, to feel you press closer to me. Your body is so soft and warm, it’s making me feel drunk. You moved me easily, having me once again under your palms. You opened me up, placing yourself where I wasn’t ready, but I was extremely willing.

“So pretty,” You breathed. “Luh-like a ruby.” Your smile vanished against my skin, kissing my thigh and nuzzling to my core. Your lips parted and I felt heat and wetness against me. I opened for you, taking your tongue inside me.

“Oh gods,” I breathed deeply.

You moaned against me, your hands massaging my thighs, my mound. Your tongue felt like fire inside me. Your fingers joined along, curling inside me where they felt deep and wanted. Your moans grew, vibrating along every nerve inside me. You made me want to cry, to rip my sheets to shreds. You touched me, arousing me to heights that made me breathless and dizzy. You took my soul from me, carefully placing it back with a kiss upon my lips.

“Buh-breathe.” You stroked my cheek.

“Oh gods,” I whispered. I couldn’t feel my tail or my legs.

You kissed me again, laying your head upon my chest as I recovered. I had never faced something as dangerous as you before. I feel asleep with you upon me, my body weak, my mind useless. I should have stayed awake and repaid your efforts.

When I did wake, I found myself alone. You were no longer in bed, and there appeared to be no sign of you anywhere. My heart was panicked, but my mind was calm. I told you to go, I urged you to. You were simply repaying what you perceived as kindness. My heart wanted to run and chase you down to bring you back, but my mind told me it was the end. I rose from bed, legs still weak, inner thighs bearing marks of your kisses. I looked around my home, and it felt cold and dark.

I got dressed, I needed to tend to my garden after all this rain. I would never see traces of you there again. No sign of you thieving, so footprints to track. This was fine, I’d been alone before, I’d be alone again. I stepped into the mouth of the cave, seeing where I had bathed last night. The bottle of oil was still there.

I left the cave, stepping out into the morning sun. The air felt crisp and cool, and the smell was heavy with fresh earth. I also smelled something hot, something dark. It was blood. I saw you in the garden, you were sucking your finger and cursing at a blackberry bush. You weren’t gone.

“I wuh-wanted berries for breakfast,” you looked guilty.

I nodded, unsure if I should move. “That’s fine.”

You stood up and dusted off your knees. You smiled shyly at me, your cheeks blooming a bright red. I was relieved to see you, but I was scared to touch you in case this was a dream. You made us breakfast, mashing the berries to spread over the toast. I licked your fingers, remembering how remarkable they were last night. The blackberries mixed with your blood and I felt delirious at the flavor.

“A-are you feeling al-alright?” You asked.

I looked into your eyes, my head spinning deliriously. “I don’t know.”

You smiled and kissed me, taking me back to that wonderful bliss from last night. “I’m nuh-not afraid of you.”

I cupped her cheek in my hand. “Why not?”

You didn’t answer me, but we both knew the answer. I held you in my lap after breakfast. Your naked body felt so much more vulnerable than last night. I cupped your breast in my hand, slowly dragging my claws along your skin. I then placed them inside you, feeling how hot and wet you are. Your voice is soft, elated. I touch you until you can no longer stand it. Your body trembles, you leave a puddle upon my thigh. I cannot leave you alone. I lay you upon the bed, devouring your quivering mound. You cries become so loud, I cannot hear the thunder that brews outside. You taste like earth, like fire, I drink you down until your thighs tremble and you roll yourself away from me. I kiss your rear, your back. I run my hands along your skin until I am curled against your back.

Your smile is docile and pure sugar. You look up at me, delighted and warm, tears in your eyes.

“Stay with me,” I whispered.

“I wuh-will,” You cooed back.

You remained by side, although I could not get rid of the fear that I would hurt you. It wasn’t until winter, when the warmth of your body was most needed, that I realized I’d not been scared in months.

You had found an injured dog a while ago, and she had given birth to pups just before the snow. One evening, after collecting firewood. You were happily cuddling with the puppies. Your smile was so big, it made me melt, but it also made me wish I was the cause of it.

“Duh-don’t pout,” you giggled.

“I wasn’t.”

“Vyre,” you cooed.

I looked at you holding that wiggling puppy. “I wasn’t,” I insisted.

You placed the puppy back with it’s mother and came to my side. “It must be cold out there. Let me warm your hands.”

I smiled, placing my hands around your soft waist. “It was cold.”

You held me tight, snuggling up to me. “I love you.”

Another knife between my ribs. You’d placed many of them there. “I love you,” I whispered. “That’s why I risk the cold.”

You kissed the inside of my palm. “That’s why I love you most.”