Alright, so this is my first romance fan fiction that I've written. I'm still writing two other fan fictions as it is, but those are both scifi and adventure fan fictions that I prefer to call continuations. Anyway, this is a story whose idea I proposed here all the way back in early July, and a few people actually preferred this story idea over another story idea that I had planned to have this story connecting to. In other words, this would have been a prequel to the main idea I had planned. Now, I want to make this clear. I originally rated this story as Mature as a whole simply because there were going to be mildly mature scenes in future chapters. After awhile, I came to the conclusion that I did not want to go through with that, so this story is now rated T+13. But I'd still prefer to call this a semi-mature story, as there will be mild nudity scenes in future chapters, but nothing too revealing. Now, as a whole, I wanted this story to be unique, something different from the norm of TES fan fictions since there's a large amount of them set in Skyrim. This story is set within the Second Era 188 in Elsweyr during the middle of Potentate Versidue-Shaie's reign over the Second Empire as the Serpent King. The protagonist of this story is the last in a long line of Khajiit Dragonguard, and she also happens to be the Serpent King's personal advisor and guardian. I also want to make this clear. NOTHING of original TES lore has been altered to fit this story. Rather, this story was made to fit within original TES canon lore. I've only created my own bit of lore to fit within what's canon. So, in a sense, this is a canon fan fiction. Anyways, I think that's enough of an AN. I'll stop talking and let you guys read the story now.

Tale of a Dragonguard: The Cat and the Snake

By: Filip Lesiczka

This story was written by Filip Lesiczka. Please do not reproduce or redistribute without permission.

This story is in no way affiliated with The Elder Scrolls series, Bethesda Studios, or anything else associated with TES and Bethesda Studios. All characters and names that appear in the TES series belong to Bethesda Studios; I do not own them. All original TES lore is copyrighted to Bethesda Studios. This is a fan fiction. I do not own any copyright claims. No copyright infringement is intended. I own only the names and characters whom I have added to this story. Again, all characters and names that appear in the TES series belong to Bethesda Studios and all other affiliates.

Chapter 1

Where it all Began – Magrus’ Champion Reborn

The sky and clouds brightened with a bright pallet of pink and yellow hues as the early hours of twilight melted away into the beginning of something new. With the departure of twilight, the creatures of the jungle awakened to bid farewell the dawn with a cacophony of chirps, whistles and calls. Birds sang their songs, and frogs croaked their calls, while insects chirped their delight.

Morning had at last arisen upon the coastal jungle city of Senchal.

Gentle waves quietly lapped onto the sandy beach of this coastal city; the ocean was as calm as a mirror. Sand pipers scurried across the beach, prodding and combing the sands of the beach with their long beaks in search of food.

However, as picturesque any outsider might have imagined a coastal city to be, there was nothing beautiful about the city of Senchal. Hidden amongst the jungle trees and beneath the tangled canopy, a broken and decaying city stood scattered amongst the trees. The sandy brick streets were in total disarray, disheveled, upturned and displaced by the overgrowth of shrubs and tree roots. It was not a city worth telling memorable stories of, for it was a city ruined by strife, corruption and murder. It was a city none wished to wander the streets of for too long.

Much of the city lay in ruin, left unkempt over many decades. Many homes and buildings lay abandoned, slowly but steadily crumbling to the ground and being torn apart by tree roots. Once beautiful frescos and murals now were nothing more than faded flakes of colored plaster clinging to the crumbling walls of buildings.

Only one thing within the city stood that was not suffering the same fate as the rest of the city; the Emperor’s palace. A massive, gorgeous structure that rose high above the lush canopy of the city, its sandy white exterior painted with elegant and intricate designs and patterns. The architecture of the palace was very different from the rest of the city; bulky, angular corners and bulbous, rounded and curved domes adorned the top of the enormous structure with single pointed spires at the center of each dome.

The sun slowly began to peak its luminous curved edge above the horizon, illuminating the clouds with the warmth of its rays, which shot out across the sky from around the edges of the clouds. The massive palace seemed to glow as it was bathed in the warm orange light of the rising sun.

But as the residents of Senchal still slept quietly in these early hours, one figure stood witness to the spectacle that not all considered spectacular.

A lone Khajiit stood upon the ledge of one of the few tall sandstone buildings that rose above the canopy of the jungle trees, gazing upon the sun as it slowly climbed above the edge of the ocean. It was a sight she'd seen many a time, a sight she'd never grown weary of seeing and a sight she'd always cherished deeply.

It was practically a routine for her; standing upon that very ledge in the early morning hours and watching the sun steadily climb above the horizon. But the sight alone of the rising sun was not what she held most dear to her heart. There was a much deeper meaning to the rising sun that only she could understand, that only she valued and held almost sacred.

The metal plates of the Khajiit's elegant, but old and worn heavy plated armor scraqed against one another as she shifted the weight of the armor upon her shoulders, and crossed her arms below the outward curve of her briast plate. Her silver eyes watched the red-orange orb as it continued to rise higher above the ocean, and its red light bathed her dark brown-orange fur in its warmth. Long, silky brown hair reached down to the middle of her back, ruffling gently in the light breeze. Her tail gently swished back and forth as she reached up with a gauntleted hand and scratched the bridge of her snout. Her gloved fingers briefly ran over the smooth skin of scars that marked the top of her snout between her eyes. But the scars also continued onto the left side of her face as well, particularly on her left cheek and lower jaw as two parallel long and thin lines of furless skin just above her left jawline. She tucked her left arm below her briast once more and shifted her weight from her left leg to her right. A long thin sheathed sword swayed slightly at her left side upon her shifting her weight.

Her name was Vriinja. She was the last of a long line of Dragonguards still loyal to the Throne, loyal to the Emperor. Behind her, the Emperor’s palace glowed brilliantly in the warm rays of the sun.

She closed her eyes and bowed her head slightly as she drew a deep breath, sighing before looking back up at the sun again. It was twenty years ago on this very day, Vriinja thought to herself as the bottom edge of the sun finally detached itself from the horizon completely and continued to climb up into the sky. Twenty years ago when you left on your adventure, my love. You promised me you would not make me wait long. She lowered her gaze to the colorful exotic birds that flitted about amongst the branches of the jungle canopy and singing joyfully to one another. Then she glanced down to the street below where a few Khajiit merchants made their ways through the overgrown and disheveled streets to their shops and businesses.

She closed her eyes again, It has been too long since we vowed to forever be with one another…too long since you last embraced me and held me close to your heart.

A light breeze blew in from behind her. Her nose twitched to one side and her left ear swiveled backwards for a brief moment.

She opened her silver eyes and gazed up at the sun once more and said quietly to herself, "I cannot rest if I do not know what has happened to you, my love. Where are you? Are you still even alive?"

Her left ear swiveled backwards slightly once more.

Vriinja glanced over her left shoulder behind her and down slightly, looking from the corner of her eye, "You know, for a thief you’re a bad sneak."

The crouching figure had come up behind her and seemed to have reached up for the large coin purse tied to her belt near her blade. Startled, the Khajiit jumped back just as Vriinja turned to face them.

Her ears lay flat against her head in annoyance, "And people wonder why the Potentate is suspicious of even his own servants. You thieves are everywhere.”

The crouching figure wore the most ornate armor and clothes she’d ever seen any thief wear. A black cape was draqed over only their left arm and shoulder, and an angular hood with a pointed, triangular lip was pulled over their head, obscuring the upper half of their face completely in shadow; whiskers, the end of a snout and a rosy nose protruded from below the shadow of the hood. A single diagonal scar marked their nose, starting above their right nostril opening and ending just below their left nostril opening. The top of their outfit beneath the neck was open, exposing the figure’s furred chest and what looked to be a strange and elongated amulet made of bone; to Vriinja, the amulet appeared to be quite ancient. The rest of the figure’s armor was dominantly made of white cloth, but there was also red decorative cloth in some areas of the strange armor. Upon their back was a long, yellow staff in the shape of a dragons head and neck. Like the amulet, the staff also appeared to be quite ancient.

The figure chuckled in a smooth, yet gravelly masculine voice as they stood up. The black cape on their left shoulder swayed away from their body slightly as they stood, and Vriinja squinted somewhat as she caught a glimpse of a strange, small orange dagger. “What makes you think I am a thief? Or even a servant of the Potentate at that?”

Vriinja snorted softly as she rested her left hand on the end of the long pommel of her blade. “If not a thief, then why, Khajiit, are you resorting to sneaking and thieving?”

The hooded Khajiit chuckled softly again as he reached beneath his cape and pulled out the small orange dagger, which was very thin and curved on one side of the blade. It almost appeared to be made to look like a serpent’s fang. “I am a lover. But I am also a hunter of exquisite items.” The hooded Khajiit parted his lips into a grin, showing his fangs and sharp, slightly yellowed teeth, “I’m aware that you are the last of a long generation of Dragonguards still loyal to the Throne of the Empire, even though the Dragonguard abandoned the Empire long ago. For a freelance assassin such as myself, your Akaviri blade would make for an excellent trophy.”

With that, the hooded Khajiit suddenly took a step forward and lunged at her, swinging his exotic dagger at her armor plated shins, aiming for the weak point in the armored boots.

However, Vriinja had anticipated the attack and had already gracefully leapt over her attacker; she sailed over him, completely unhindered by her heavy armor. She arched her back, turning her body as if she were going to flip forward. As her body arced over her attacker, she reached across her waist with her right hand and pulled her sword free from his sheath.

At the same time, her attacker had planted his right foot down and swiftly spun around, swinging his dagger sideways at her head. As she turned in the air to face him, she too swung her sword upwards. Their blades met and a shower of sparks erupted upon contact.

Her attacker’s sword arm jerked upward from the force of her counterattack, staggering him somewhat. Vriinja quickly kicked her legs ahead over her, causing her body to turn in the air to an upright position, allowing her to land on her feet. Her armor scraqed and clunked as she landed heavily, bending her knees as she placed her left hand on the rooftop surface. She stood up, and the two faced each other once again.

Her attacker snickered and smirked as he started to slowly circle her, like a hungry wolf skulking around in the shadows at the edge of the light from a campfire. “Well, this will be a most interesting fight indeed. I knew you’d be skilled with the sword, but your armor does not hinder your movement as I thought it would.” Vriinja pivoted on her feet to keep him directly in front of her. The Khajiit snickered again, “Someone who wears their armor as if it were a second skin is quite a rarity, especially rare for a Khajiit warrior.”

Her stance was relaxed and comfortable. She stood straight, her left arm behind her back and her sword arm pointed towards her attacker. She seemed completely at ease, as if she did not expect there to be much of a challenge. “And you seem to be quite the unskilled assassin.” She smirked, “Every assassin knows that to remain invisible to their mark, they must make certain their scent is undetectable.” The smirk faded, and she set her firm gaze upon the hooded Khajiit, “You’re not an assassin, Khajiit. That much I can tell just by looking at you. What is it you really want from me?”

“Heh. Defeat me, and I shall tell you,” the Khajiit responded with a sly smile.

She chuckled softly with a light smile to hide her impatience, “Very well. This shall not take too long.”

With that, she seemed to disappear into thin air. She was nothing more than a dark blur as she charged forward, her sword held downwards at an angle. In the blink of an eye she had closed the twenty foot gap between them until she was almost upon him. But at the last moment, she planted her left foot down firmly and swiftly dodged to her opponent’s right side. Then, she slashed her sword upwards.

Her arm jerked backwards as the hooded Khajiit swiped her attack aside with his dagger with relative ease, causing her to stagger back a step. The Khajiit lowered his arm back down by his side. He bowed his head slightly as he smirked, “Impressive speed you have. However, you are not fast enough. Let this ‘unskilled’ assassin teach you a thing or two about what it truly means to be fast.”

No sooner had he finished his sentence, he seemed to completely vanish in a flurry of motion.

Vriinja flattened her ears back upon him vanishing before her. Her eyes flicked to the left, then her head snapped in the same direction and she lifted her left hand up. She caught his foot in her hand and gripped it tightly. “Not fast enough!” she exclaimed with an irritated hiss as she pulled her lips back to bare her fangs.

In the blink of an eye, she pulled her left arm back with all her might, pulling him towards her. The hooded Khajiit let out a small and short startled yelp as his body lurched towards her. She raised her right leg up, pivoted on the toe of her left boot, angled her hips upward slightly and kicked her right foot out at her opponents chin as she released her hold on his foot.

The hooded Khajiit snapped his head back at the very last second and the toe of her boot barely missed his chin by a hair. He growled softly as he shot a look down at her. Vriinja could see the faint glow of blue eyes in the shadow of his hood. His grip tightened around the handle of his fang-like dagger and he thrust his right arm forward, intending to hit her square in the gut with his fist.

His fist made contact with the armor plating on her belly. However, Vriinja’s own fist made contact with his belly at the same instant as his met her belly. She too had thrown a punch with her sword arm.

They flew apart in opposite directions from one another from the force of their blows. Vriinja skid backwards several feet before she stopped, leaning forward and placing a hand down on the rooftop as she caught her breath, having had the wind knocked out of her.

The hooded Khajiit landed on his side, rolling twice before he quickly picked himself up. But he too had had the wind knocked out of him from the force of Vriinja’s blow, coughing somewhat as he fell to his knees gasping for breath.

She stood up and looked down upon her opponent. “I’ve only ever once fought someone as skilled in close-quarters combat as you are, Khajiit.” The corners of her mouth curled downwards into a frown as she remembered her sparring sessions with her lover, “That was twenty years ago, with the man of my dreams.” As the hooded Khajiit stood up, she lifted her left arm up and opened her palm towards him. A cylinder of swirling flames suddenly surrounded him, which caught him by surprise. He glanced about him wildly as the flames completely surrounded him, seeming to search for some way of escaping.

“Now,” Vriinja said in a firm and annoyed tone as she set her silver gaze upon him, “you will tell me what it is you want with me, Khajiit. My patience is wearing thin.” Her whiskers twitched slightly as the heat from the swirling inferno radiated against her face and nose.

The hooded Khajiit turned his head toward her and stood up straight, his composure completely relaxed. He sheathed his dagger, then chuckled, “Very well. I shall tell you what you want to know. But…” He raised his right hand until his palm was no more than an inch from the swirling wall of flames. Vriinja narrowed her eyes as she grew wary.

“This petty barrier won’t do.”

Vriinja’s eyes widened in shock.

“Hrah!” the hooded Khajiit exclaimed loudly as his fingers parted. And with that, the swirling cylinder of fire flew apart as it was dispelled, with seemingly no effort at all. The flames burst away from him in all directions as a small blast wave of heat hit Vriinja.

The hooded Khajiit lowered his hand back down at his side and chuckled.

Vriinja could do nothing but stare at him in total shock. Her eyes trembled ever so slightly as her heart raced and her breaths became slightly shallow. Could it be? she thought to herself as her heart leapt into her throat.

Then, tears began to form in the corners of her eyes. There was only one man she knew who was capable of dispelling her advanced barrier spells, a feat no one else could accomplish without putting in a large amount of effort.

“I-Is it…is it really you?” she asked stutteringly as the hooded Khajiit began to slowly approach her.

He did not reply at all. Instead, he reached up with both hands, took hold of each side of his hood and pulled it back. Her heart fluttered before skipping a beat as the sunlight fell upon his face, illuminating his grey fur and glistening in his striking sky-blue eyes, the eyes that she’d yearned to see once again for twenty years. The single diagonal scar that Vriinja always remembered started just above his right eye and ended just below the inner corner of his left eye. His grey shoulder length hair was tied up in small braids, and the familiar patch of light brown fur marked the right side of his face and the bridge of his snout.

He stopped directly in front of her. He gazed down into her eyes and she stared up at him, almost in total disbelief. Then, smiling warmly, he reached a hand up to gingerly touch her left cheek. “Hello, Vriinja…my love.”

Her sword fell from her hand and clattered with a sharp metallic noise against the sandstone rooftop. A single tear rolled down the fur of her right cheek before she lunged forward into his chest. “Zavirr!” she exclaimed with a choking sob as tears began streaming over her fur and down her cheeks.

His arms wrapped around her and embraced her tightly as he angled his head downwards and touched the end of his snout on top of her head, kissing her and holding the kiss for several minutes while she cried and sobbed into the soft cloth of his chest. He reached up a hand and caressed her hair, sliding his fingers through the silky and soft brown strands as he stroked the back of her head and neck.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” she uttered chokingly between sobs as she gripped the white cloth of his clothing tightly. A flurry of emotions washed over her, but happiness and anger were among the most prominent. “All this time I believed you had died on your adventure! Why did you not write to me?”

Zavirr pulled his head back and gently took hold of her by the shoulders, pushing her away so that he could look down into the shimmering pools of her silvery eyes. He smiled again after a moment, “I’m sorry that I made you wait and worry for so long, Vriinja.” He lowered his gaze, “But I did not expect the Nords to be relentless in their pursuit of a petty thief like me.” He glanced up at her again and placed his right hand on her cheek, gently caressing her whiskers with his thumb, “Spending fifteen years in the cold Windhelm dungeons is unpleasant. They would not even allow me a quill and parchment to write…” He smirked and held his head up high with pride, “But it will take more than their methods of torture to kill this Khajiit!”

Vriinja sniffled as she gazed up at him with a small smile. They stared into each other’s eyes for several minutes before Zavirr craned his neck down and kissed her briefly on the top of her snout between her eyes. He pulled his head back, still smiling, then craned his neck down again and kissed her deeply on her lips.

It was as if she had travelled back in time, to the day he left on his adventure. The rising sun to her left, the massive palace to her right and Zavirr standing before her, holding her as he held her in a long, deep kiss, the same long and deep kiss he held her in at that very same moment. How she had longed to once again feel his passionate kiss gracing her lips once more; how she had yearned for his strong arms to embrace her lovingly into his broad and toned chest once again. Twenty years had seemed like an eternity to her, an eternity of loneliness and of constant yearning for his love again.

But none of that mattered, for her deepest desire had finally been fulfilled now that he had returned to her. All that mattered to her at that moment was that he never again let her go, that he would never again leave her alone. There was nothing else more important to her than his love. Not even the Potentate mattered to her.

But no sooner had the thought of the Potentate crossed her mind, a feeling of guilt overcame her. She had sworn to protect the Serpent King with her life and to serve as his advisor. She had forever sworn her loyalty to him as a Dragonguard and it was her duty as a Dragonguard to never waver from the path of servitude she walked. Her duty to the Emperor, to the Throne, was just as important to her as Zavirr’s love.

They stood there for several long minutes, embraced in each other’s arms and holding the kiss; neither of them wished to break away.

Finally, Vriinja opened her eyes and broke the kiss. She gazed up into his eyes, tears still streaming down the fur of her cheeks. Zavirr reached his left hand up, his cape sliding off his forearm and to the side, and gingerly wiped away the tears on her right cheek. Then, she sniffled as she placed her right hand on his hand, holding it against her cheek. “Promise me that you will never leave me alone again,” she said in a slightly trembling voice. Her heart still raced from the previous surge of happiness, causing her hands and legs to tremble from utter joy.

Zavirr bowed his head forward to look her directly in her eyes, “It is a promise I intend to keep this time, my dearest. My time of adventuring through the lands of High Rock and Skyrim are long over.” He smiled at her and caressed her cheek with his thumb, “I promise you that I will never again leave your side.” He then pulled his hand back and reached under his black cape with his right hand. “And to prove that my word is true,” he said as he retrieved his hand and produced a sheathed sword from beneath his cape, “I brought you a gift I am sure you will enjoy.” He held the weapon out to her with a proud grin spread across his muzzle.

Her eyes fell upon the sheath, which was mildly decorated with dull colors and what appeared to be blocky pieces of bone, and instantly recognized what he was holding. “This is Magrus’ Indignation!” Her eyes shot up to look at him with surprise and worry, “Zavirr, how did you acquire this? Do not tell me you-“

Zavirr cut her off with a chuckle, “No need to worry, my love. Magrus’ Champion bequeathed me with this sword and his personal amulet when I passed through Torval.” He handed her the sword before darting a hand behind his back and into his satchel, from which he withdrew a silver amulet with a magnificent polished diamond embedded in the center. “He said this amulet protected him from danger quite a few times in his long life.” He reached his arms up over her head and spread the chain apart, bringing it down over her head and snout before allowing it to hang from her neck. “I want you to have these treasures of his,” he said with a warm smile.

She picked up the beautiful amulet in her left hand and glanced down at it, admiring its silvery luster. Then she turned her eyes upon the weapon she held in her hand, a legendary weapon said to have been forged from the very bones of a slain dragon that had once terrorized the southern lands of Cyrodiil and northern lands of Elsweyr many centuries before the end of the First Era.

Vriinja could not believe she was holding the weapon of legend. She glanced up at Zavirr, “But why did Magrus’ Champion bequeath his most treasured possessions to you? Why would he give you the very weapon of legend said to have slain more than a thousand dragons?”

Zavirr averted his gaze down to his feet as his expression saddened. He was silent for a few moments before he replied, still looking at his feet, “For the very reason that he has passed from this plane of Mundus.” Vriinja’s eye’s widened in disbelief upon hearing his words, for she had never imagined the day would come when she would hear of the passing of Magrus’ Champion. “He knew my father very well,” Zavirr continued, “for he had been my father’s mentor. He wished for his weapon to be given to someone who will make good use of it.” He cast his eyes up at her face, “And so, he gave it to me when I stopped in Torval to visit him before he passed.”

Vriinja’s ears angled backwards as she looked down at the weapon once more, this time with a somewhat pained expression. She slowly ran her left thumb over the smooth surface of the diamond in the amulet Zavirr had placed around her neck. After a moment, she wrapped her hand around the pendant before looking up at Zavirr once more with a determined look, “I would assume that with the bestowing of Magrus’ Indignation upon me, I now must bear the title of Magrus’ Champion, yes?”

Zavirr nodded in response with a half-smile, “Aye. He may have wished for me to take on his title…but I am not worthy of it. I may be a mere khajiit born into a family of status, but I am not a khajiit worthy of bearing such an honorable title.” He placed a hand on her left shoulder, “But you, my love, are more than worthy of bearing his title. You have what it takes to bear such a name with pride and hold true to its significance.” His half-smile spread into a grin, “After all, you were born with the innate ability of using magic even before you could walk, as well as summoning the infinite power of fire, just like Magrus’ Champion. I can think of no one else more deserving of his title than you, Vriinja.”

Again, Vriinja looked to the legendary weapon in her hand. She could feel her heart rate increasing as the weight of her newfound title settled upon her shoulders. Now, she was not just a Dragonguard loyal to the Throne of the Emperor, but Magrus’ Champion as well. A flood of emotions and strange sensations washed over her; her tongue went numb and the tips of her ears grew warm, while her tail flicked from side to side nervously and her hands trembled ever so slightly from the rush of blood.

She tucked the weapon beneath her right arm while she reached with both hands to undo the cloth lanyard securing her sword sheath to her waist. After a few moments fumbling around with the knot, she finally undid the knot and pulled the sheath away from her waist just as Zavirr bent forward and picked her sword up off the surface of the rooftop. When he straightened up she handed him the sheath, which he took and thrust the slender blade into while Vriinja began to secure Magrus’ Indignation to her waist.

She quickly finished tying the knot on the cloth lanyard and allowed the heavy weapon to hang at her waist. It was much heavier than her old blade; the added weight felt awkward hanging at her side, but she knew that she would eventually become accustomed to the new weight at her side.

Zavirr folded his arms across his chest as he leaned back on his left foot and admired her with the legendary weapon at her side. He smirked when she looked up at him after having tucked the silvery amulet beneath her armor, “It fits you very well.”

“It feels awkward,” Vriinja responded as she took hold of the sheathed sword and pulled up on it, trying to make it hang as comfortably as she could.

Zavirr chuckled at that, “Don’t worry. You will get used to it fairly quickly, I’m sure of that. Your profound skills as a warrior will only make it easier to get used to it.” He glanced to his right as angry shouts suddenly erupted from the street below. His left ear swiveled backwards while his right remained pointing forward.

Vriinja sighed as the shouts grew louder. “They have been doing this every morning for the last five years,” she said as Zavirr turned and walked over to the edge of the roof, peering over the side. “Ji’Gato and Tsavaki,” she added as she walked over to stand by Zavirr’s side, peering down through the branches at the two Khajiit bickering in front of a doorway, “they married ten years ago.”

Zavirr smirked, “As everyone expected them to. But what have they been arguing about?”

“What everyone in this city argues over,” Vriinja answered as she turned around on her heel to gaze up at the massive palace and crossed her arms over her briast plate. “Gold, food…” Her ears lay flat against her head as her expression turned to one of sadness, “A home to shelter and protect their family…”

Zavirr leaned back to look at her upon hearing her last remark, “But do they not have a home already?”

Vriinja nodded in response while still gazing at the palace, “Aye, they do. But they do not live in a home that can keep their family safe.”

“Safe from thieves, I imagine, yes?”

Vriinja shook her head slowly, “It is not just the thieves they worry of. An ancient Khajiit vampire settled into a cave not far from the city a month earlier.” She glanced sideways at Zavirr, “Along with him terrorizing the population, a strange, upright walking creature has been spotted numerous times in the city and trees since it first appeared two weeks ago.” She shook her head, “The Serpent King shows no concern over the threat of the vampire, but has taken quite an interest in the unknown creature.” She sighed and closed her eyes as she added with a dissatisfied tone, “He has me chasing after every reported sighting of the creature and has tasked me with capturing it for his collection.”

Her last statement brought a chuckle out of Zavirr, “That sounds like the Serpent King. I can only imagine what it is like being his personal advisor.”

Vriinja glanced sideways at him, not amused by his crude sense of humor, “I will be honest. It is sometimes not easy being an advisor to an immortal snake.” She returned her gaze back towards the palace, “But I pledged my loyalty to him, and have no other choice but to serve him.” She let out a dissatisfied grunt as she turned to face Zavirr, “I’m sorry, my love. But I must leave you for now. I mustn’t be late to report the latest political issues to him. He does not approve of my being late to stand at his side.”

Zavirr nodded understandingly, “Then do not allow me to keep you, my love.” He smiled and stepped closer to her, kissing her between her eyes, “Do not worry about me. I will go and tend to your mother. I shall be there when you return.”

“Thank you,” Vriinja replied with a soft smile as she looked up into his sky blue eyes once more. She did not wish to leave him after just reuniting with him after twenty years apart. She wished to be embraced in his arms, in his love for the rest of her days. She did not think she could bear the entire day without him. She wanted nothing more than to stroll up and down the beach with him for the remainder of the day.

But she had to tend to her duty as guardian and advisor of the Serpent King. Her sense of duty was just as overpowering as her love of Zavirr. However, in her case, her obligation to the Potentate had to come first, lest she faced the consequences.

They gazed into one another’s eyes for a few minutes longer before Zavirr smiled warmly and tapped the end of her nose with his right index finger, “Go, my love. You survived twenty years without me, so I am certain you can survive yet another day without me. Now go.”

Vriinja hesitated for a brief moment, unable to tear her eyes away from his. Then, she set off at a jog to the opposite side of the rooftop and leapt off the ledge and landed on a large tree branch below. She jumped nimbly from tree to tree before she dropped down to the overgrown street below. Then, she took off at a very swift pace in the direction of the Serpent King’s palace; to anyone in the street she passed by, she appeared to be nothing more than a dark blur as she darted by.

Zavirr stood at the ledge she had just leapt from as he admired the huge structure in the distance, a slight breeze causing his braids to sway somewhat. Then he smirked, “I wonder how much more in riches that old snake has accumulated in the last twenty years. I should pay his vault a visit one of these days and see for myself. Might be something exquisite in there this time around.”

He chuckled to himself as he reached up with both hands and pulled the hood over his head again. Holding Vriinja’s old Akaviri blade in his left hand, he turned and ran towards the opposite ledge, then leapt gracefully into the air, flipped once and fell to the hay pile in the street below.

Birds sang their songs merrily away, frogs gruntingly croaked their calls and the insects greeted the new day with a cacophony of their delighted chirps. Meanwhile, the sun continued with its journey across the sky.

And so the new day marked the beginning of a tale, forged by the reunion of two lovers. No one could ever comprehend how this tale could possibly affect history forever.

?

End Chapter One