Deception, Domination, and Dragons (Skyrim Self-Insert)

Svanna was born near Riften, to a mother and father. Or so she assumed, based on what she’d eventually learned about how babies were made. In truth, the young red-haired Nord had never known her parents, and neither had anyone else she’d ever asked. When the asking had resulted in more than one paddling from the inaptly named Grelod the Kind, Svanna had eventually learned from context clues not to bother any longer.
 
She was an orphan, a girl who had been deposited in the Honorhall Orphanage younger than she could recall, and who had grown up under the care of Grelod, the Orphanage’s Matron. The woman was a despicable human being, to be sure. Extremely cruel and incredibly abusive, she’d left scars on Svanna both physical and mental that were with the young Nord to this day.
 
But Grelod, like much in Svanna’s life, was nothing more than an obstacle to be worked around, in the end. As much as she hated the old bat with all her heart, Svanna liked to think she’d grown far beyond her, in the end. Grelod the Kind… and all of Riften in fact, could fucking die in a ditch for all Svanna cared.
 
An uncharitable sort would say that all of Svanna’s problems throughout her life could be traced back to her, but she disagreed. She’d only done what she needed to do. She’d only fended for herself. So, what if she’d taken a few things from a few people here and there? From a very early age, she’d been attracted to shiny objects. Septims were one of them, but honestly, it wasn’t money that she craved… it was value.
 
Gemstones were the best, in Svanna’s humble opinion. When she was younger, she hadn’t been able to differentiate between actual jewels and the slightly shiny rocks she found by the shore of Lake Honrich. Anything that had a gleam to it, anything that glistened just right in the sunlight… she had to have it. She’d gotten into a few scrapes with the other children at the orphanage over it too.
 
And, when they’d banded together to hold her down and search her bed for their missing belongings, she’d learned a valuable lesson. She couldn’t rely on anyone but herself, and she needed better hiding places.
 
It was only later, when she was growing older and couldn’t quite fit into the smallest places anymore, but was also a wee bit stronger and tougher, that she found The Ratway. There was an entrance to Riften’s underground tunnel system right near the Orphanage as it turned out and slipping down into it at night was surprisingly easy for her.
 
The Ratway was dangerous, and filthy, and didn’t seem like the place one would find many treasures… and that made it the perfect place to hide hers. Finding a small cubby behind a loose stone, she’d begun to put her tiny hoard all in one place. Her few coins, her shiny rocks, and her prized position… a ruby no bigger than the nail on her thumb. Small as it was, it was everything to Svanna. She could stare at that ruby she’d found digging at the shore for hours.
 
And of course, once she had her own little hideaway in The Ratway, she was more incentivized to go and claim more things. After all, if they couldn’t prove she’d taken their things by turning over her bed, then they couldn’t accuse her of any wrongdoing. Not that it stopped them of course, nor did it stop Grelod from hurting her anyways… but at the end of the day, painful welts and fresh scars and all, Svanna was still the one who came out ahead.
 
Until, that is, her exploration of the Ratway led to her stumbling upon The Ragged Flagon. The underground tavern had seemed amazing to her, at first. It was filled with men and women in dark leathers, with hard, assessing eyes.
 
Of course, those eyes tended to soften when they landed upon her, more often than not. What she would eventually come to realize were members of the Thieves Guild, looked upon her with pity in most cases. Those who didn’t, saw her as an irritant, with contempt. None of them took her seriously.
 
Except… the more she looked around the Ragged Flagon, the more time she spent in it, the more… rundown it felt. There were alcoves that seemed like they should have contained stalls or shops of some sort, but there were no merchants to be seen. Meanwhile, the men and women in their dark leathers looked disgruntled and unhappy, as if they were at their wits end.
 
All things considered, perhaps she should have recognized that going about things the way she did would win her no friends and do her no favors. But Svanna had thought she recognized kindred spirits… and like a kitten meeting grown cats for the first time, she’d tried to follow her instincts… and play.
 
She thought she got away with it, the first time she picked one of their pockets. She was so sure she’d done it sneakily and stealthily enough that they hadn’t noticed. Except, mere moments after making it back to her little hidey hole elsewhere in the Ratway, she’d been set upon by those dark figures in their leather armor.
 
They’d taken her then… but worst of all, they’d taken her belongings. Kicking and screaming, shrieking and fighting like a banshee, Svanna wondered in hindsight how she’d even survived the experience. She certainly hadn’t acted the part of the docile, quiet girl that she’d eventually end up adopting, not then. She’d struggled as hard as she could, but against fully grown adults, even her teenage body wasn’t capable of anything truly special.
 
Dragged before the Thieves’ Guild, she received their judgment. Not even their Guild Leader’s judgment, but the judgment of the group as a whole. Apparently, their leader was out of the city on some mission, and she wasn’t worth his time anyways.
 
They all took turns suggesting what to do with her. Some of the darker ones, the ones who had never looked at her with pity, had mentioned cutting off fingers, or removing her tongue so she couldn’t rat them out, or taking out her eyes so she couldn’t lead anyone to the Flagon.
 
Svanna had sat there amongst them and shivered upon realizing she was surrounded by monsters, and that there were worse atrocities that could be visited upon her than what Grelod the Kind and her fellow orphans had ever done.
 
Fortunately, cooler heads prevailed. Those who wanted to maim her, to silence her forever, were ultimately talked down. But she’d still stolen from the Thieves’ Guild, she was told quite sternly, and that… that couldn’t be allowed to go unpunished. She would have to leave Riften, and never return. Nay, cried her worst detractors, the ones who wanted to see her maimed. She would have to leave Skyrim, for the Thieves’ Guild laid claim to the entire Province, did it not?
 
That was the day that Svanna learned there was a whole world out there, beyond even Skyrim. She’d known of Skyrim of course, that Skyrim was where The Rift was located, and The Rift was where Riften was located. But having never been further than the shore of the lake before, she’d only known these things as abstract concepts.
 
None of that mattered to the Thieves’ Guild though. Exile was to be her punishment. She was to leave Skyrim and never return, and to make sure that happened, a detachment of Thieves’ Guild Members took her from Riften on a forced march sound. With her hands tied behind her back, Svanna couldn’t even hope to escape them until they ultimately reached their final destination… a small mountain pass that they said would take her right down into Cyrodiil, whatever the fuck that was.
 
And so, with her bonds finally cut, she’d been ordered to go. But Svanna hadn’t wanted to. Not without… not without her ruby. Sure, it was small, sure it was probably worthless to these people, but it was hers. More than anything else she’d ever laid claim to, that ruby was her prized possession. So, even though it’d rankled her young pride something fierce, she’d turned and begged for it back. Just that one little thing to take with her on her journey. Surely… surely, they could spare that much, right?
 
The brigands who’d marched her to the pass had looked at each other and laughed. A couple had even spared her pitying looks as it was explained to her, none-too-gently, that none of them had her stupid little ruby. It was almost certainly back in Riften, having been added to the Guild Coffers by that point.
 
And so, crestfallen and destitute, Svanna had been forced to turn and make her way south with nothing but a half-loaf of bread and the clothes on her back. For most, that might seem a death sentence. Especially for a young girl. But Svanna was a Nord. And the Nord had always been a hearty, tough people.
 
That wasn’t to say her travel south had been easy or kind. It’d sucked, and more than a few times she’d considered laying down, curling up, and simply waiting to die. But eventually she managed to reach a place where the snow didn’t fall quite so hard. Eventually, it stopped being quite so cold. And suddenly, the world seemed a little bit brighter, more beautiful, sunnier.
 
Scavenging her way across the land, Svanna had eventually found Bruma. And that was where she’d settled and lived out the next several years. The last several years, as a matter of fact. It was only less than a month ago that she’d decided it was time to return to Skyrim. Having grown up and filled out quite a bit, Svanna had felt a longing to return to her homeland.
 
Not just that though… she wanted revenge. She might never have come back to the Province, if they’d just let her leave with her ruby. She might never have returned to Skyrim, if it wasn’t for that little gem. Svanna had seen and handled bigger gemstones since, of course. Not many, but a few. She knew full well that her little ruby… it was barely worth fifty Septims, if that.
 
But she didn’t care. The heart wanted what the heart wanted, and even if she had to infiltrate the Thieves’ Guild itself and tear them down from the inside, she would get her gem back, or destroy them for losing it in the first place.
 
Of course, her plans had almost immediately been thrown for a loop when she’d ended up caught in that ambush while trying to cross the border. Getting taken prisoner by Imperials simply because she’d been in the same area as some Stormcloaks she’d never even heard of… it was a pain in the fucking ass. What little she’d learned since hadn’t exactly inured her to either group either. This Ulfrida Stormcloak lady had clearly started some shit, and because of that, Svanna had nearly gotten her head fucking chopped off.
 
The only person she had felt she could rely upon since coming back to Skyrim was the Altmer who’d not been on the Empire’s damn list either. The Mer, who’s name she still didn’t even know, who had stuck by her side like glue from the moment that fucking dragon had shown up and hadn’t left her since. In fact, more than that, he’d even tried to use magic on her to keep her with him.
 
It was honestly kind of touching, in Svanna’s opinion. And… while she did have things to do, people to see, and revenge to be taken, it wasn’t like Whiterun was TOO far out of her way. And that dragon… yeah, people needed to be told about it, she supposed.
 
Her decision to follow the Altmer had led to her and him spending the night at that trader’s home. Where he’d tried to cast more magic on her. And where Svanna had watched as he’d fucked the trader’s gorgeous sister into her bed like she was little more than a cheap whore.
 
Admittedly, Svanna was a bit of a pervert. It came from a life of skulking in the shadows. She’d seen a few things she shouldn’t have seen… and found that she actually quite liked it. Watching was enjoyable for her. Both men and women were beautiful to her. The Altmer, he was incredibly handsome, and his cock was of a considerable and appreciative size. Meanwhile, Camilla Valerius was a gorgeous woman who had bent for him with ease, moaning wantonly as he’d fucked with her mind, and then her body.
 
He wasn’t a good man, this Altmer. But then, Svanna wasn’t a good woman either. So maybe… just maybe, they could be good for each other, if not for anyone else.
 
… It helped that his skin was the color of gold. Svanna had met a few Altmer before him and had seen plenty from a distance while in Bruma, but she’d never actually got to spend an extended amount of time with any single one. Was it weird, that she was starting to see the Altmer as HER Altmer? Was it odd that she was beginning to feel… possessive of him?
 
When that Companion woman outside of the city had spoken derisively of her Altmer’s magic, Svanna had been annoyed. She’d been irritated. The woman didn’t know what she was talking about. Magic… magic was amazing. And maybe, just maybe, it was exactly what Svanna needed to be able to beat the Thieves’ Guild and take back what was hers.
 
“… So yeah, that’s it. That’s my story.”
 
Finishing her tale, softly spoken over a couple cups of mead, Svanna looks up at her Altmer, trying to gauge his reaction. The two of them are sitting at a small table in a back corner of The Bannered Mare, where they’d retired after the revelation that she hadn’t actually been convinced by his magic, but instead by her own free will. He’d seemed nervous, her Altmer… but ultimately, he’d come all the same, and heard her out.
 
Now though, now she didn’t know how he would react. In the silence that follows, he looks about to speak, but before he can do so, Svanna blurts out a question.
 
“Y-Your name… what… what is your name, if you don’t mind me asking?”

She flushes and ducks her head right after asking. If he was about to cut ties with her, of course he would mind. Honestly, she was being an idiot wasn’t-?
 
“Vayral. My name is Vayral. And… it is good to make your acquaintance, Svanna.”
 
Eyes wide, Svanna feels a small surge of something unfamiliar in her chest. Is this… hope? Looking upon her shiny, golden-skinned Altmer, she sees him smiling at her. Whether it’s a nice smile or not is up for interpretation. And the look in his amber eyes is… almost as hungry and possessive for her as she feels for him. And yet… she finds herself drawn to him in a way she cannot explain, for it is entirely inexplicable.
 
Deciding to seize the moment, Svanna abruptly stands up, leans across the table, and kisses Vayral on the mouth. It is her first kiss; she embarrassingly thinks a moment later. Despite all of her vast life experience, she has never kissed before, never had sex before. As Vayral tenses, but then reaches up to caress her cheek as he leans into and deepens the kiss while showing more knowledge in the subject than she can lay claim to, Svanna’s blush only intensifies.
 
… Perhaps she would soon be able to lay claim to a few new experiences…

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