Worthy

Inside Jorrvaskr, the headquarters of the Companions of Whiterun, the sounds of a fight could be heard. It was not unfamiliar experience to any in Whiterun who passed, but this time the fighters were particularly special.

The Last Dragonborn, known as Dovahkiin to many, stood bareheaded for once. He was on one side of the sparring circle, his hands upraised in guard position, his chest heaving. A hulking, brawny man of considerable strength, he had accomplished many feats of valor a formidable reputation through Skyrim. Despite this, he was still being sorely tested by his opponent.

It was a battle of contrasting styles. Aela the Huntress could not battle him blow for blow, unable to match his fabled strength and fortitude. Despite being a powerful Nord woman, the Dovahkiin surpassed her in this, along with almost everyone in Skyrim. Aela seemed to know and respect this, however, countering with remarkable speed and agility. It seemed she landed two blows for every one he landed, with even more of his swinging through air or merely glancing. The damnable woman was quicker than he would have believed, the three black marks stretching diagonally on her face and eyes twinkling with amusement as if he were some toy.

He cursed, thinking of the many dragons he had slain, but fighting Aela had proved to be such a bother to him. His pride was salved by the thought that his dragon shouts or magics could have swayed the fight in actual battle. There was no reason this should have lasted as long as it had.

The Dovahkiin's thoughts were a distraction. Aela feinted a punch with her right hand, then her left, and suddenly swung her right leg up in a kick. The Dovahkiin took the blow to the side of the head, and went to one knee, head bowed. Aela sprang forward towards him to finish him off, perhaps with more kicks, or punches, or driving her knee into his head like she had done before.

Suddenly, the Dovahkiin sprang powerfully forward, driving off his low center of gravity. They met with a thud, the impact knocking the breath from Aela as the Dovahkiin drove her backwards. He could feel the impact himself but he was well past bothering as he pushed her into the ground. His fist rose to threaten her face, but Aela drove a leg into his midsection and pushed him to the side. They rolled together, over and over, until finally the Dragonborn emerged on top to grab her arms in a vice-like grip.

They were both breathing heavily by then, and exhausted. He loomed above her, both legs straddling her waist, his fists poised threateningly above her head. Aela's fierce pale eyes looked upward at the impossible situation and the Dovahkiin could feel the resistance suddenly go out of the Nord woman. "I yield," she said grudgingly.

The Dovahkiin stayed for a moment longer and then swung off of Aela. "Well fought," the Huntress told him, returning to her feet with an agile flip. "You caught me by surprise."

"You are not unskilled," said the Dragonborn in his deep growl. ""It was closer than I thought it would be."

"From the fierce Dovahkiin, that's quite a compliment," Aela said with a small smile. The Dragonborn could not help but notice the beauty that suddenly came forth with that smile and show of teeth. Her body was sweaty, her hair plastered to her head, the shape of breast, hip, and lithe female form visible beneath the clinging sparring clothes. It was not the first time he had noticed this. He still remembered when Aela had fearlessly joined him as his Companion when Lydia had been ill, in her consistently revealing battle dress.

The Dovahkiin did not respond to Aela. A man of few words normally, he was further distracted by these thoughts. Aela looked at the brooding Dragonborn with her eyes bright and fierce once more.

"I promised you a favor if you won," Aela said. "Anything you may ask of me."

"I must return to Breezehome." The Dovahkiin was already past schedule. Lydia was waiting for him no doubt, to help him "carry his burdens".

"Oh I think Lydia can wait a little while," Aela said teasingly. "You are Dragonborn, are you not? Surely you can be home a little late. There is something we must discuss."

Her tone was so mocking that the Dovahkiin felt mildly infuriated, insulted by her minor probe at his masculinity. He looked darkly at her, and saw her sparkling eyes look back into his, giving just the tiniest nod to him. It was enough.

"Downstairs then." The Dragonborn did not wait for a reply, turning towards the staircase. He could hear Aela following with lighter steps, her shadow stretching forward as they descended.

The Dovahkiin was not completely oblivious. He knew what Aela wanted, and he distantly reflected on Lydia. There was no way his housecarl and wife did not know by now. While he would dutifully plough her every night, and sometimes more than that, she knew what kind of man he was. The Dovahkiin was a roiling mass of masculinity and testosterone, and he had known many woman before and after Lydia.

Mjoll the Lioness had been his first. He remembered the way she had clawed at his back and shuddered in pleasure as he had driven into her to fill her with seed. Joris the Shield-Maiden had accepted his seed as well. Iona, Muiri, Temba Wide-Arm. Ysolda had been different and the most recent. The merchant woman had taken him aside on approach to Jorrvaskr and swallowed his seed instead. It made no matter. The Dragonborn probably had many other children all the way through Skyrim, and this did not concern him in the slightest.

Lydia had to know by now, but he could not be totally sure. The Dovahkiin never spoke of his conquests, and Lydia never spoke her thoughts with him.

In one of the sleeping cells underneath Jorrvaskr, both he and Aela finally stopped and stood looking at each other. The red-headed Nord smiled welcomingly at him.

"What is it, Aela?" The Dovahkiin had to be sure. He gave his seed to any pleasing female that asked for it, but he did not rape. There were women enough that wanted him.

"I thought we could use some extra sparring."

"Good." The Dovahkiin kicked shut the door. He turned to grip Aela's body with his strong hands, his head tilted downwards to kiss the shorter Nord woman. Her eyes widened with the suddenness of the action, but quickly returned to normal. Aela's mouth was yielding, her tongue extending into his own mouth. Then they parted. She was breathless, and they both looked at each hungrily and began undressing themselves.

Aela helped pull the sweat-stained light cotton tunic the Dovahkiin had been wearing over his head and tossed it aside. In response, the Dragonborn gripped her own tunic with two strong hands and ripped the fabric apart. A look of shock came over Aela's eyes, and the smallest blush emerged onto her face as her breasts were bared so quickly to him. The Dovahkiin looked at her chest unashamedly, observing the small round breasts, the nipples hard with arousal, form still lightly sweaty from their sparring. He would make her sweat much more than that.

Aela adjusted to the fury of her partner. She tugged down her own light workout pants, revealing that she wore nothing underneath, a patch of matching red pubic hair growing between her thighs. Then Aela tugged down the Dragonborn's pants to reveal her target, tossing aside their footwear for good measure, and knelt before him. The Dovahkiin's dick was a large specimen, six inches and growing, extending further outward by every moment. She looked upwards at him, across the huge shoulders, the scarred and muscled form, into the dark eyes above, then she opened her mouth to take him inside of her.

The Dovahkiin felt his cock enter the mouth of Aela the Huntress, and felt pleasure emerge at the sensation of this worthy woman sucking his dick. Aela flicked her tongue on his tip, teasingly, savouring the experience of his pre-cum and his phallus as it now reached full extension.

But the Dragonborn would not be toyed with. As he felt her tongue flick at him, her red head bobbing on the edge of his now fully erect cock, he did what he had always done with his partners: he was rough.

Both his hands drove forward suddenly to grip the back of her head with immense strength. And then he drove Aela's head all along his length to deepthroat him.

Aela's eyes widened like saucers, and then she began to cough around him. Unyielding, the Dovahkiin kept his hands on the back of her head, mashing her lips and face on his dark pubic hairs as he forced his entire large length into her. He felt his dick touch the back of her throat and the vibrations as she coughed along his length. Her eyes watered and closed, and Aela the Huntress knew she had more than she had bargained for.

And that was what she had always wanted.

Aela's eyes reopened. The Nord woman was not unaccustomed to blowjobs, nor hard sex. Not a single tear fell from her proud eyes as she felt his mammoth cock sheathed inside her mouth, and she stopped coughing and began to suck harder and harder.

The Dovahkiin was pleased. Aela had proved as worthy in sex as she had in combat. He was glad. He had had enough of soft women like Ysolda...the strong were the ones who truly deserved his seed. The Dovahkiin let her continue her ministrations for a while, moving his hands off her head at last, allowing her to move her bob back and forth on his length. Then he pushed her head off of him. Aela's lips were still parted from where his large cock had been a moment before, her eyes looking into his questioningly, her nude form still kneeling before him in submission.

The Dragonborn lifted her upwards, and then threw her roughly onto the bed. He threw himself on top of her, his dick fully erect and prepared to give her the gift of first penetration. As he positioned himself with her cunt, Aela's bright pale eyes looked into his, and then suddenly she rolled them both over in a similar move to their sparring. This time, Aela came out on top. She straddled his legs, her arms holding his. The Dovahkiin made to roll them over again but her legs had locked his body in place like a vice. His arms could have overpowered her, but he suddenly decided to let her have her way for a moment. She had proven herself.

Aela looked wickedly down at the huge man below her, and then brought one hand below her as she braced the other on his chest. The hand below gripped the Dovahkiin's dick, lining it up with her, and then, with a ferocity matching his, she impaled herself on his full length.

The Nord woman cried out in pleasure as the Dovahkiin's cock filled her wonderfully in ways she had never imagined. None of Aela's other partners had been this large or this intense. She felt him so deep inside her, and looked down on his strong male form. What a man.

The Dovahkiin felt himself completely sheathed in the gloriously hot and tight pussy of Aela the Huntress, looking down in approval at his completely obscured dick. The sensation of her velvety cunt around him was marvelous, and he could see and feel how wet she was there. There was no other way Aela could have taken him inside her as well as she had.

Aela rose off of him slowly, bracing both hands on his chest, then fell back onto him. As she did, the Dovahkiin made a small move to roll her over again without his arms, but her leg muscles stood out like cords to hold herself in place on top of him. As the sensation of his sizable penis became more familiar, Aela rose and fell on him faster and faster. Aela's cunt became the center of her existence, as she felt it filled again and again with this fierce male specimen. Her breasts protruded, nipples hard and jutting, her lovely female legs gripping his form fiercely. A golden sheen covered her form as she looked down into his eyes and moaned in pleasure.

It continued that way for some time until the Dovahkiin had had enough, as he felt his climax draw ever closer. Aela had earned her time on top, he would not grudge her that. But he was Dragonborn. His hands gripped her female form on the waist and drove her to the side to roll her over. For a moment Aela resisted, her legs still clamped on him like iron, then she let herself go, rolling onto her back. The Dovahkiin was now on top of her, and this position he knew very well.

He looked down at Aela's nude form, studying the pale eyes looking upwards desiringly at him from above the pair of jiggling breasts, the appealing curves at the waist and hip, the red pubes and the glistening pussy beneath. Then he shoved himself back inside of her and heard her moan as he drove into her.

The pace the Dovahkiin set was incredible for Aela. She felt him drive into her with all the strength of his body, sending her own shaking from the impacts. Aela's hands continued to be active, tugging at his chest, then at her own breasts, and then at his buttocks to drive him even further into her. As if this amazing man needed her help. The thrusts continued unrelentingly as she cried out again.

How long this lasted she could not stay, but it was a very long time, especially after such an arduous sparring session. The Dragonborn's stamina was impressive as he pounded away at her, and thoughts were continuously driven out of her head by the thrusts. Between them, she began to think about the end of this wonderful experience. Her eyes drew upwards to meet his, the lips that had so recently sucked his dick parting wider and wider. And suddenly, Aela the Huntress screeched in orgasm, her world going white before her eyes, her eyes rolling, her body shaking, roiling, and twisting wildly as the Dovahkiin continued to drive within her.

The sight of Aela the Huntress, this fine Nord woman, cumming hard on his dick was appealing to the Dovahkiin as he contemplated his newest sexual conquest. As her cunt convulsed around him and he drove into those twitching muscles again and again, he began to feel the approach of his own orgasm. This would be a worthy woman to carry his seed. He would give her all that she wanted.

The Dragonborn's thrusts grew slightly more erratic as his orgasm approached. Aela was just then slowly returning to normal, her eyes refocusing, watching the play of muscles on his body. Then the Dovahkiin let out out a low, guttural growl, and drove into her deeply. For a moment Aela could not feel anything, then suddenly, like a bloom of hope, she felt hot squirts of liquid within her. Her ravaged body shook again in pleasure, and Aela screamed at the wonderful feeling of his pulsing penis inside her. This what what she wanted more than anything, it was vulgar, lewd, and absolutely enchanting.

The Dovahkiin continued to pump inside Aela as he came, churning the creampie into a frothy white mess. There was no stopping his virile ejaculation. Aela felt him shooting more and more, coating her womb, filling her up and then some. Her hands found his back and clawed at him. The Dovahkiin continued cumming inside Aela, the feeling of her cunt liquids and his own load of jism mixing inside her a heavenly one. Finally however, his orgasm began to subside, and he slowly drew out. One final spurt of jism shot from him onto her red pubes, a trail of white liquid adorning it like some sort of marker.

Aela lay on her back, her body heaving, her hands falling exhaustedly from his back. The Dovahkiin pulled back and looked at the sight of her glistening form, the trail of jism on her red pubic hairs. Then he looked down further to the pussy he had just filled, the creamy white coating the pink folds everywhere he could see. Some of it was leaking out onto the cloth of the bed, unsurprising given the power of his orgasm.

One of Aela's hands snaked downwards to gather the jism along her pubes, which she brought back to her mouth to taste him. His taste was strong but not unpleasant. The other stretched further downwards to gather the leaking jism, thrusting it back inside her, then rubbing at her own cream-filled cunt while she prevented any further escape.

The beautiful, impregnated female form before him was quite a sight even for the experienced Dovahkiin. "You are a worthy woman, Aela the Huntress."

"Thank you, Dovahkiin," said Aela breathlessly as she still exquisitely felt his seed inside him. "You are a worthy man. Would that we have made a strong child tonight."

The Dovahkiin grunted his assent. Then he picked up his clothes and dressed himself. Aela had one final sight of the softening dick that had filled her, then it was obscured again.

"We will spar again, Aela."

"Oh I am counting on it," Aela said. "Both kinds."

The Dragonborn looked at her one more time, then decided swiftly. "Yes. Even if Lydia does not agree."

"You need not worry about that. I have seen the way she looks at me. She approves of me. She may even join us. Would you like that, Dragonborn?"

The Dovahkiin thought of that. Lydia had indeed seemed to share a warrior's rapport with the fierce Nord Huntress. Perhaps this idea had merit. "Yes. I will ask her."

"Good. I'll be waiting." Aela laid back her head on the pillows of the bed. The Dovahkiin left her there without a further word.

Exhausted, Aela's eyes grew heavy. The sensation of her filled pussy, tired body and muscles all served to fill her with a sense of content. Aela the Huntress fell into darkness, but one final thought filled her mind, hoping, pleading that this would not be the end.

A cold and cheerless meal awaited inside Breezehome.

It seemed to the Dovahkiin that his wife was even more distant than usual. The odd coldness was not unexpected, or even uncommon. The Dovahkiin was often off on his adventures and they did not serve his relationship well.

Their meal passed ten minutes in silence. The table was lit only by a few small candles, glowing faintly in the fading dusk light. Lydia's face was a still mask not entirely devoid of the beauty that had first attracted the Dovahkiin, as he began his adventures in Skyrim.

Of course, as he had continued, he had known other women. As recently as the night before he had seeded Aela the Huntress. But that was not something that needed to be spoken aloud, particularly not at this frigid dinner.

The Dovahkiin continued his thoughts as he ate his meal.

Perhaps he should have been a little more active to Lydia and her needs. Only on occasion had he deigned to bring her along. Often the Dovahkiin preferred to travel by himself, to prove his worthiness and his strength. Other times he brought along a single member of the myriad of characters that had been attracted to his cause. It was enough to drive Lydia more than a little stir-crazy, forced to mind their household in Whiterun.

It was not a life suited for the martial Lydia who had lived her life as a housecarl, a noble soldier of Whiterun. Nord women were drawn to strength; how could they not be, in this beautiful, cold, unforgiving environment. Not to sitting inside houses.

Equally unfortunately, strength did not always lead to the best prospects of marriage, as the Dragonborn himself proved.

He did not delude himself. The Dovahiin was not the perfect husband by any means, as his continuing adventures and sexual escapades proved. But he was still fond of Lydia, and wished her no harm. However, he would not change his nature or his course for anyone. He was strong, which was what both drew her to him and drove her away.

"Dovahkiin."

A hugely-muscled form, scarred and toned by endless conflicts with giants, dragons, and other denizens of Skyrim, the Dragonborn turned his face to his wife. "What is it, wife?"

"This relationship...the way it is." Lydia spoke the words haltingly, and the Dovakiin flashed some anger. He was not the type to be patient about talk of feelings.

"What of it?"

"It cannot continue this way." Lydia took a swallow, steeling herself. She was a formidable woman, but the Dovahkiin was still intimidating even to the likes of her. A slayer of dragons, a bear of a man, few in Skyrim would risk facing his wrath. "I need to go on an adventure with you. Please."