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It wasn't easy, waiting.
I watched the fires burning as the refugees and evacuees from Haven sat around a fire. It was hot. Not as hot as me, of course. Gew elven beauties could resist my handsome, hairless crome dome and ridiculously skinny, toothpick-thin bod. I wasn't as handsome as the dwarf in our retinue, of course, but even Gods know their limits.
Anyway.
I waited. It was imperative I find her, make sure she was still standing. Leading all these miserable, snow-bound humans and an even-miserabl-er dwarf to her was imperative. I had excelled at my role in this charade so far. I was going undercover as an apostate mage and by all reckoning, I was great at it. No one doubted me to be anything less than a strangely hareless mage who had just happened to offer help to teh chantry. My duties to my new love, Lavellan, had proved my worth to the group. I'd kept her looking most fetching in bed, braiding her hair in the way I most preferred my women. I even managed to convince the sharp dwarf and chantry women that I was no threat at all. Elven trickster god: 3, good guys:none, if I may brag a little. Bragging is, after all, one of my favorite past-times.
Anyway.
I knew as soon as I saw this little elf snoring in bed with a bit of drool around her mouth and her mark upon my arm, that I had to have her. Yes, Ebonerimina Lavellan would be mine. She held not only most of my soul in that anchor I tied onto her arm, but my heart as well.
She was one of my miserable snowed in warriors, waiting by the fire. Beautiful Lavellan. Her long hair was still braided the way I liked, her face was set in a perfect expression of heroic self-dicipline. I was doing it all for her, you know. Well, mostly myself, because I'm a right selfish and pompous git, but I liked to think it was for her, too. Finally, her eyes grew heavy, and even she, beautiful girl, slept. She was only elven, after all.
And I was a god.
I slipped away like a shadow, a pompous shadow full of hot air that melted the clouds as I went. My thoughts laid only on two things - getting my castle back, and getting my girl inside of it.
I traveled under cover of night. It was dark. Really dark. Even I, a God of the Fade, tripped over several roots and burning skeletons along my path. I did not utter a word of an elven curse, though several great ones came to mind. That's one thing I've found uncommonly awful about the modern age; people have no great curses anymore.
But where was I?
Ah, yes. I made the way to the castle, my thoughts of the young elf I had just met. Due to an accident that was not-at-all my fault, I had somehow attached the anchor I was looking for onto her, and I really could not have chosen better. She was an elflin or whatever the hell ancient elves called super hot girls. Big tracks of land, if you understand what I am bringing to your attention. Fond of corsets. Just enough dark black hair to suggest to me that she was not one of those preppy elves, like Mythal. She was thoughtful and conscientious with, really, I cannot possibly emphasis enough, the sort of figure that drives a man to wake from a pleasant thousand year nap in the Fade.
It was of her I thought when I pressed my hand unto Skyhold's gates. I could sense Skyhold's displeasure at this. Long ago, I had made barriers around her with magic long to seal out Arlathvan's guardians should I fail at doing my big evil destruction of everything and everyone they had ever loved. Of course, I was totally justified in doing this, at least to myself. No one else understood me as well as I did - though Skyhold came close. After the thousand years I had left her crumbling, the magic had more or less leaked out from the barriers and into the heart of the stone itself.
Now, dwarves will bend your ear off if you let them talk about the feel of the stone - especially those Orzammar dwarvse, don't EVER let them talk to you about the differentiation between the forty-seven different dwarvish words for stone, trust me, makes for a miserable Dwarven family holiday when you gather them all together. Fortunately, I, an elf god, knew better than any dwarf, or human, or elf, for that matter. The magic had given Skyhold a kind of consciousness; it had become a spirit. An eager one at that; it waved tendrils of magic around me in sudden thrill at finding it long lost master.
It, too, knew it was not easy to wait.
She allowed me inside with the eagerness of a young lover. My thoughts turned to Lavellan as she let me penetrate her gates, and I felt them snap shut before me. Curious. It appeared it had grown a jealous streak. Keeping my mind purposefully calm, I let myself walk forward, and once again she swung open her gates. After crossing through them, I had a thought of Lavellan as she had bent down, picking up a weapon upon the grounds. The gates slammed shut, and I felt Skyhold pull me forward. It appeared my castle was jealous.
This, of course, gave me no ending of thrills. It's hard to believe someone as impressive as me still quaked at the thought of being wanted, but I really enjoyed it when weird shit had a crush on me. You never lose the novelty of a rage demon coming onto you, or a pride demon getting all grumpy but interested in you. Come to think of it, this was the first spirit that wasn't a demon that I had felt a sort of kinship with. Curious.
She pulled me forward, whisps of her magic entangling my feet and urging them onward, onward. Thankfully no mortals had come to penetrate her defenses in the time I had been gone, which meant there were no corpses to trip over here. She'd been keeping herself up as well, with naught a bit of ivy out of place. Well, there was still a mess of books everywhere and quite a bit of broken wood and stone, but I had never been the best housekeeper. Even gods cannot be perfect, you see. Especially duplicitous ones like me.
"Alright," I said, letting her pull me forward, further on into her depths. It was a tighter fit than I remembered. I had to duck my head to get into the cavernous door that led to what had once been a blacksmith's forge. I was able to afford many a retinue, in my time. It is easy to fake coin when one is a trickster god.
"Lead the way, spirit," I said. It's soft pink light curled around my waist, almost possessive. I thought of Lavellan once more, the idea of my hands on her slim hips. Skyhold's pull cinched tighter, pushing me forward.
I smirked a bit at its jealousy. "You have known patience this long, spirit," I said, humoring it. "You can surely wait a bit longer to have me to yourself?"
The curling tendrils of magic jerked me forward at these words, despite my godly desire to go ungodly slow. The scenery blurred as it pulled me forward, shoving me towards what had once been my throne. I expected to sit on it regally, as an elf god does, but, instead it pulled me into a side room, an alcove off of my gigantic library. It shoved me down roughly into a chair there and there I sat, a bit stunned.
--You are here-- the spirit whispered in my mind, which felt like, well, whispering, but without ears. --You are here.--
"Indeed," I said, unsure of what to do. I hadn't meant to breach so far into its inner sanctum. I had only intended to assure that the building was still standing. Skyhold appeared to have no plans to let me leave. I watched as the Castle lit its' torches through the library. The pinkish spirit-light glittered, swirled, and disappeared, and I blinked, unsure of what to do. There was silence from the spirit. Had I had to the sense to be born a dwarf, I would have been afraid, but elves are always getting into this kind of thing.
I tried to stand, to go back to Lavellan, my curiosity of the building satisfied. This angered her. The light came back with a blinking vengeance, shoving into my concave belly and forcing me back into the chair.
--You here-- the spirit thought at me. --You here--. The thought continued unabated, louder and louder until it was all but screaming in my head: -- YOU HERE YOU HERE---
"I really must be going," I said. "Evil plans to make, evil places to go."
The spirit blinked, turning red. The energies of it began to gather, becoming more dense, swirling together in a cacophony of shouting thoughts. The spirit began to coalesce, crossing from the fade, but in a form I had ever seen it take.
It separated into bright red sparks, which hit my skin in a dizzying heat. HERE NOW the spirit screamed as it hit my skin, leaving a warmth that warmed my bones. Not just warmed but - other things, too. I was suddenly aware of the slide of the spirit-light on my skin, pulsing against my fingers. It curled in a caress up my arm, down my side and into - ahem, other areas. I squirmed a bit at this, uncomfortable for the moment, but the spirit of Skyrim took no notice -- HERE NOW HERE NOW -- it said, and I whimpered at the passion of it. It had been many a year since I had been wanted so - thoroughly.
I spread my legs without even thinking about it, trying to better handle the insistent feeling of the caresses roaming my skin as I contemplated my next action. I was unbelievably focused on that contemplation, regardless of what was actually going on around me. Yes, up to and including phantom hands touching me. The warmth of the spirit's magic was suffocating, and for a moment I hesitated.
However, he sweat polishing my chrome dome made me pull my shirt off, letting my concave chest shine as I stood, bare-chested.
The magic roared around me, possessive. Hands surrounded my chest, the magic heightening an already sensitive touch. It was starting to affect the room around me, too; I could see pieces of the future now, moving around me - paintings painted in my immaculate hand blinked into existence. I watched them appear and disappear through half-lidded eyes. There was my castle on a hill, warnings of future places, events - and even one of myself, hand holding a knife clutched behind my back.
My cock surged at the combination of the caresses, the magic, and the images swirling before me. I closed my eyes and opened my britches, letting out my long, skinny elf-cock. We were alone, after all. Perhaps what I needed to convince Skyhold to allow me to go was to, simply, consecrate the union. I pulled my hand around my cock, the heat in my fingers making easy work of movement; a quick tug up, down, up down.
If I had thought the magic I had made in this place was possessive before, I knew nothing of possession. It knocked me backward off of its chair, leaving me in a - well, let's say not so secure position. I turned around - well, turned over, my britches had fallen when I'd been shoved, roughly - and stared at the sight behind me.
The magic of Skyhold began to coalesce, the red spark crashing into one another and building mass. I blinked and the sparks, once red, turned black. Before I could even force myself to get up and move with my godlike reflexes, it had coalesced, becoming a shadow holding a knife - the very image of my future painting. As if to tell me that it was displeased with my long absence, it moved forward with an elegant gait like my own and reached out, grabbing my abandoned top and pulling it on top of its shadowy form. It rapped its hand on the chair I had vacated and looked at me.
It said nothing, but I knew what it wanted. I turned and held myself on the chair, letting my slim buttocks lean out, wantonly. I knew what it was asking and I knew if I said no, Skyhold might want more than just my slim ass for it's taking. The magic of the room turned a softer pink, as if delighted by my display of subservience to the magic which I created. The shadow-creature pressed the knife to my throat for a moment, but no threats were necessary. It was surreal, being with a lover that existed in shadow. I had lain with spirits in the fade but this was nothing like that; I could not tell a single thing about it. Only the after-image of the magic's color let me understand, even slightly, whether I pleased it.
I braced for impact as I felt shadow fingers splitting me, pinning my cheeks open. There was a sense of urgency underneath me; the shadow creature pressed its way inside, and I gasped. Though it had not prepared me, there was little pain, only a slight feeling of pressure. The phantom's cock was as long as thin as my own, but it didn't press more than the tip inside at first, rocking back and forth.
"Skyhold," I moaned, and it pressed inward, the fade-light of the magic turning so bright it nearly dulled my senses. It pulled out again and I leaned backward, wanton and willing, my lips bit in terse desire. The knife the spirit held clattered to the floor. My hands flew toward my cock, and the fade roared in my ears with the sound of - well, really fade-y shit that I could describe better were I not limited to a dwarf's eyes in retelling this. Anyway, I moaned and was pumping my cock hard as Skyhold thrust into me.
I closed my eyes and concentrated on memorizing the feel of it; in, out, in out. I tried to map out the shadow's cock, but it proved nebulous, almost as if it was changing. Every thrust seemed to build more and more, and each time I felt more and more stuffed full of cock. It was definitively growing, I realized, as it made me split my legs further apart. I relaxed and threw myself into it, an overwhelming throbbing building in my cock.
--HERE NOW-- appeared behind my eyes, and I said, "Yes, yes," and moaned, feeling the growing pressure on my prostate. I had never taken so big a cock before; it was gigantic now, the throb of it all that I could see, all that I could feel. I had never been pounded so hard in my life. My legs were going numb as I stroked my cock harder and harder, willing myself to orgasm.
Apart of me wondered if Skyhold's magic would be satisfied with just this.
The shadow continued to grow, it's thrusts growing more and more urgent as its size grew. It was beginning to distend my tight stomach now; I could feel it, the sheer size of it pressing into me.
The magic shadow leaned forward, Skyhold draping itself on me, and my knees nearly buckled from the phantom's weigh. It had me spread so thin as it speared into me, the cock-shaped club all but overpowering me. The move forward drove more of it into me, and I moaned; every time I thought I couldn't take more, Skyhold gave it. I would be sore for days, but it would be worth it.
This proved to be the final straw for me; I came, shuddering, my come flowing freely as I collapsed. Skyhold grunted, pushing me forward harder to the point I fell onto the floor, then disappeared, a final HERE NOW BRING OTHER? STAY HERE NOW appearing on the walls before it left me.
I lay panting for a few moments before gathering my breaches. I was careful to keep my thoughts only on my return to Skyhold as I hobbled out the door and back toward the group of stragglers that I'd more or less adopted for my games. Skyhold let me pass her barriers unheeded, as long as I kept my thoughts on her. Which - given the excellent reaming she'd given me - was not difficult.
Once I'd crossed her threshold, I made my way back to camp, falling asleep near my already beloved Ebonerimina... Her face looked serious and composed, even in her sleep. Perhaps, once I'd moved her into Skyhold, I could convince the castle to use its magics on her, as well; yes, I thought, my hand curling around one of her massive tracks of lands, I was looking forward to fucking over both Lavellan and Skyhold completely.