Work Text:
“Just remember, ain’t no one high and mighty in these halls except the Jarl, and don’t you forget it,” Fianna warned the new maid. Estelle Vivant was a beauty with soft, pouty lips, curly brown hair and long-lashed blue eyes. She looked the type to have all sorts of airs and graces. Fianna wanted that kind of trouble gone before it had even surfaced. “Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes ma’am,” Estelle replied.
“Good. Now get to work by Farengar’s office. But don’t go in. The court wizard doesn’t like to be disturbed. Sweep his desks and such if you must, but don’t open those doors. He’s an intensely private man.”
Gerda had finally died not too long ago, and Fianna had almost immediately hired new help. Like Oblivion she was cleaning the entire place alone. Estelle had just turned 18 and she was a local from the hold, having come from Rorikstead. She had been recommended by the people she’d hired her from, and so Fianna had agreed to take her on. She watched the younger Breton with a critical eye as the girl picked up her broom, bucket and mop, heading over the wooden floors to Farengar’s offices. She’d be popular if she let the guards at her – a cute little thing like her was bound to catch somebody’s eyes.
Unlike the Nords around her, Estelle had no problem with wizards. She was curious as to what Farengar worked on in his position as court wizard. There were rumours he had a keen interest in dragons. She wondered if he’d ever seen one. She hadn’t, but their return was amazing. Beasts straight out of legend, and they were roaming the skies above them!
She swept piles of dust and other things out of the way of his benches, and set to work with the mop, leaving a wet trail behind her and wringing the mop out in the bucket. The water soon became disgusting, and she baulked in horror. When was the last time he’d had this room cleaned? She knew better than to touch the desks, and went to change her water. When she returned, she continued on the floor, serially refreshing her water until the floorboards gleamed. She dusted carefully around the books, and was moving towards the enchanter with a small vial of soapy liquid when she noticed a green puddle beneath Farengar’s office doors. She made a sound of annoyance. She had respect for wizards, but they were clumsy beyond compare with experiments and they left far too much lying around. If this continued to leak from the door it would ruin all her hard work. She had to clean it up! Fianna wouldn’t care so long as she didn’t have to deal with it, and she could probably deal with it before anyone noticed she was in the room.
Estelle turned the door handle and made another horrified noise at the mess. A potion was pouring continually from an up-ended bottle, spilling over the floorboards. The Breton maid quickly righted the bottle and set to work with her mop and cloth. As she was finishing her studious cleaning, a shadow fell over her shoulder, and she looked up to see a Nord staring down at her, most of his face shrouded in shadow by blue robes. She swallowed. This was Farengar.
“I told Fianna to ensure that the new help would not interrupt my studies,” the wizard sighed. “Get out.”
“You spilled something!” she protested. “It was leaking from underneath the door! I cleaned around your workroom and it would have made more mess.”
“You have only interrupted what you do not understand. Leave,” he ordered.
“You’re just trying to avoid admitting you made a mistake,” she muttered. “You probably don’t know enough about the basic alchemical components to realise mixing Jazbay and Juniper results in an odd compound that produces weight at the top and lightness at the bottom.”
Farengar’s mouth tightened. “Did they hire you for your lip or for your cleaning?” he demanded.
“Apparently, they should have hired me for my knowledge of alchemy instead!” she snapped. His eyes flared. “And furthermore, you should never leave your experiments in a crowded space! If they spill and damage things, it causes snarky maids to come and clean up.”
Farengar slammed the doors shut. When he loomed over her, pressing the Breton against the desk, she immediately regretted her outburst.
“You’re here to clean,” he stated. “I should get the Jarl to throw you out on your ear. I should. But maybe you need a punishment for wandering into places you shouldn’t be.”
“I have a job to do,” she whispered, her bluster gone.
“So you do,” Farengar agreed. He brought his mouth down upon hers roughly, fingers surprisingly strong as he grasped her wrists in one hand and pinned them behind her back. With the other, he singed her clothes, ripping them away from her body until the fresh white skin was visible. Turning her over, he raised one hand, and after a moment, it fell into a drawer next to her. He retrieved several strips of leather and bound her arms behind her back. He was confusingly good at firm knots for someone who couldn’t work a potion right, and when she was secured he stripped her smallclothes from her. Once more he turned her, grasping her hair gently and pushing the girl to her knees. He undid his robe, keeping it around his body as he freed a hot, thick length from his trousers. Estelle gulped.
“You’re joking.”
“Clean it,” he ordered. “The quicker you do it, the sooner you’ll be free.”
Estelle shuffled forward, sucking the tip into her mouth and licking the head once it was in. She bobbed quickly, watching as the pulsing length in front of her became steadily more glossy with saliva. A small moan dropped from his lips as she sucked once more, applying her tongue to the job to get him off as hurriedly as possible. He grasped her head, pushing her and thrusting his hips into her. She breathed through her nose, remembering to relax as she sucked and licked at him. He twitched, and she made a surprised noise. Was he really done this quickly? The vibration travelled up his cock and made him gasp in surprise. He grunted, thrusting harder into her mouth as she put all her skills to the job. When he came, she had to swallow quickly thanks to the volume of his seed. Somebody, it seemed, hadn’t gotten off in a while. She wanted to laugh but she swallowed instead.
He pulled out of her mouth and fell against the desk, breathing heavily. Even soft, it looked impressive, and Estelle had to admit he was well-endowed for a slender man. He let out a gust of breath, looking down at her.
“We done?” she snarked. Something flashed in his eyes.
“We were,” he told her. “But you, you are determined to test my patience.”
“Wait, wait, you said if I got you off, I’d be free!” she protested.
“I said it would bring your freedom sooner,” he corrected. “I don’t think you’ve learned a lesson yet.”
He grasped her tied wrists, hauling her to her feet as he swept his desk clean and leaned her back down on it. The wood was pleasant, not cold on her back, and she twitched in anticipation as he surveyed the wriggling Breton.
“Patience,” he mused. “I know just what you need. Your own test of patience.”
She glared at him as the wizard started to fondle her body, pinching her nipples gently. She squirmed. He lowered his mouth to her neck, kissing softly and licking at the column of flesh. A crackle of lightning bled through his fingers and zapped the young Breton weakly. The result sent a sensation of ecstasy straight to her core. Her toes curled as he played with her breasts, trembling with the magic he sent through her body.
“Are you going to fuck me?” she mumbled.
“In time,” he replied.
He dragged his nails slowly down her body and towards her sex, thumbs parting her lower lips as he started to slowly stroke her. Estelle quaked. It had been a while since anyone had been in bed with her, and Farengar’s fingers were still buzzing with magic. It felt like a vibration. It was too good. He hovered his thumb teasingly over her nub, watching as she tried to press her hips against the digit.
“Oh…oh my…where did you…”
“Invent this spell? From a friend of mine in the city. We spent some time experimenting with magic and potions when we were younger,” he replied. Two fingers teased her lower lips, buzzing over her hyper-sensitive skin. He watched her begin to glisten and stroked her thighs, scratching softly as the fingers continued their tortuous movements. In a few moments, she started to wriggle.
“I don’t understand what you want,” she panted. “Please, I promise I’ll never come in here again.”
“Oh, you will come in here again,” he promised. “Again, and again, and again.” He kissed her breast, sucked her nipple into his mouth and licked it with his tongue until she was audibly whimpering in need. Still, he didn’t stop the torture, never increasing the magic, not putting his fingers in her, and avoiding her nub. Her brown hair was spilling out of its tight bun, and he watched lazily as she began to drip onto his fingers. He raised them to her mouth. “Clean them.”
She did so, sucking them into her mouth and licking them until her taste was gone. He pulled her hair from its bun and unwound the plait she’d secured it in, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and sitting her up. He set the vibrating fingers directly against her body, right on the sensitive spot, and increased the power. She began to writhe against him as he held her tightly to stop her from falling, gasping in pleasure as she rubbed herself against him. He allowed her to work herself towards an orgasm for a few seconds before pulling his fingers away.
“Beg, and say sorry,” he said. “And I’ll let you out.”
“Fuck you,” she spat, and he slid them inside her a few seconds later, feeling her clenching tightly around the digits. Her legs wrapped around his hips as she ground against him, whimpering desperately as she tried to stimulate herself. He sucked on her neck, dragging his tongue down it as she surged into him, her body trembling. Within moments, he pulled away again.
“No…wait,” she gasped. “I…”
“You?”
“I’m sorry, please-!”
His hands reached around to her wrists, and the court wizard stared her dead in the eye. Estelle froze, caught like a deer.
“Finish your sentence,” he suggested.
“I’m sorry, please let me go,” she begged. His fingers untied her wrists, and just as Estelle was about to hop down from the desk he pushed his hips forward, leaning his now-erect member against her lower lips. He started to grind, and the Breton felt her mind fly from the room as he brushed against her nub. Her legs parted, and he pressed into her, hearing her voice crack in delight as he entered her. He was so much taller than her, and it showed in his size. Her arm wrapped around the back of his neck and he grasped her rear, beginning to thrust in and out of her roughly. One hand grabbed some of her dark curls and tugged gently, exposing her throat. He bit, and Estelle cried out as his other hand placed a thumb on her nub. The spell was back, and within seconds, she had reached that plateau she had been denied up until now. She squeezed him tightly to her as she came, trying to dislodge his hand from her sex when it became too much. He insisted, and she moaned as the feeling radiated throughout her.
“It’s…it’s too-too much,” she whimpered.
“You can take another,” he growled, and increased the power until the Breton began to scream in pleasure, going limp in his arms. Climax rippled through her body, and she panted uselessly as he fucked her, the slick, wet sounds of their coupling reverberating throughout the room. She took another, and another, her muscles useless and her skin sweat-slicked. When she had her last, Farengar snarled – something she hadn’t considered him capable of – and twitched, spurting into her. He slumped over the desk, pulling out and falling into a nearby chair. Estelle joined him, unable to move for a few seconds. He cast a stamina spell, and stood, picking up a nearby bottle and handing it to her.
“Thank you,” she mumbled. She wasn’t sure if he was glaring at her.
"Wait here while I find you some spare garments,” he ordered, and left without flashing her to the word. A few minutes later he was back with some simple boots and a cotton dress. She accepted them, finding her cleaning tools and looking up shyly at the wizard.
“I should go,” she said.
"Yes. You should,” he agreed. “If I catch you in here again, I will find a much more creative punishment for you.”
Estelle flushed deeply at the thought. That, she understood, was a promise.