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The tense atmosphere of The Ragged Flagon was palpable. With Mercer fleeing, Brynjolf was scrambling to figure out a plan and keep everything in order after the chaos following the realization of the Guildmaster’s betrayal. When it happened, everyone was quick to forgive Inelyn for bringing Karliah there now that they knew he had been in the right, though unease still remained as no one knew what would happen to the Guild. There was also the annoyance of Delvin giving him the cold shoulder, though not for the situation with Karliah, which Vex explained to him after he made an off-hand comment about it. It turned out Delvin was good friends with Astrid, so his ire was understandable. None of this, however, was the cause of the rage boiling under Inelyn’s skin. He watched as Etienne Rarnis chatted with Rune, calm and carefree as he told the tale of his most recent mark.
He hadn’t realized how much his emotions showed on his face and body language until Ravyn put a hand on his arm, taking him out of his reverie of hatred.
“You’ve been doing that for months now,” Ravyn muttered. Inelyn tried to play it off.
“Doing what?”
“Glaring daggers at Etienne, looking like you’re seconds away from throwing his face against the ground.”
“That would be too easy,” Inelyn growled.
“What in Oblivion did he do? He’s so…” Ravyn made a face trying to think of how to describe the Breton, “mild. A decent sneak, average thief.”
Inelyn hadn’t told him what really happened, nor anyone. Not even Ralof, technically. He didn’t know if he should. The thought of weakly going to Ravyn, injured and helpless, would hurt his pride too much. But now perhaps it had been long enough. Besides, he wanted Ravyn to understand. He exhaled deeply and lightly touched the other’s face, tracing a thumb over his lips.
“Not here.”
It was difficult to tell what Ravyn was thinking. He listened quietly to Inelyn’s story as they sat at the kitchen table in Honeyside, his face still. The tedious details were spared, but Inelyn explained everything, from why he was there, to being captured, to what Rulindil and the other Thalmor did to him. How intimately he felt his own mortality.
After what felt like an infinite silence, Ravyn finally spoke.
“What do you want to do about him? Rarnis.”
Stress shed from Inelyn’s shoulders.
“I don’t want him dead, if that’s what you’re asking. I do, however, want to make him wish he were.”
“If you ever want my help, just ask.” Ravyn stood and leaned over the table to capture him in a kiss. Inelyn felt himself melt into it, the heat swirling in his chest just as much as between his legs.
“I’ll let you know.”
***
Inelyn watched the road from an outcrop outside the walls of Riften. The night was clear, the moons blade-thin and low on the horizon. It was late. Surely, most have settled in for the night. The Breton would be there soon.
He had hung around the Flagon more than usual, taking special care to pay attention to the jobs Etienne was taking. Inelyn saw him take the job for Merryfair Farm and knew it would be the perfect opportunity. It was unfortunate that Ravyn wasn’t yet back from the Whiterun job he took, but no matter. There would be plenty of time.
There.
Etienne finally came into view past the stables and Inelyn climbed down, surefooted and silent on the stone. He concentrated deeply, focusing on the faint sound of gravel. As it got closer, he hid further behind the rocks until he saw the other thief’s back. In a quick motion, he clasped a hand over Etienne’s mouth. Before there was too much time for the man to react, Inelyn hit the side of his neck, catching him before he could fall. He would enter Honeyside from the back.
The empty room really turned out to be a blessing. He didn’t know what to do with it at first, but inspiration would spring from the desire for vengeance. At first glance it looked like nothing out of the ordinary, if bare. A single bed, a small table and chair, and a space to wash. However, the unique fixture of the room was the chains.
Inelyn hauled the still unconscious thief in, laying him onto the bed to remove his clothes save for the trousers. He couldn’t help but think that Etienne might have been luckier were he not such a fine Breton. His hands glided over smooth skin and the delicate features of his face. He would savor giving back the pain. A thought briefly entertained itself in his mind as his fingers hovered at the hem of the remaining cloth. It would be interesting to— no, he couldn’t risk him awakening unrestrained. Inelyn sat him up and chained his wrists to the headboard. In the meantime, he left the room to prepare for the night.
Eventually Etienne stirred, and Inelyn sat across from him, quiet and still, though with a sharp intensity on his face.
The man was confused as he awoke, but soon he noticed the coldness of metal around his wrists, the unknown location, and deathly calm Dragonborn. His face fell, panic starting to set behind his eyes.
“What are you going to do to me?” he asked behind a tremble. “Why?”
“I’ll tell you ‘why’, then perhaps you will figure out the ‘what’,” Inelyn hissed. “If you hadn’t been there. If I hadn’t let you escape, they never would have caught me. I will show you first-hand what they did to me.”
Etienne’s face paled as he realized what this was about.
“You don’t have to do this. I’m sorry they captured you. Please, Inelyn—”
“Don’t you refer to me in such a familiar way!” He tugged harshly at a handful of soft brown hair. “You no longer have the right.”
“Y-yes, sir,” Etienne fumbled, flinching at the sudden pain.
“Tch, no wonder they were able to get information out of you so easily. Spineless as a swamp jelly,” he pushed his arm forward, hitting the other’s head against the wood. “I still have some of the scars. I wonder how long it will take for yours to heal. Try to run and I’ll knock you out again,” he added as he undid the restraints on the bed. “Face the wall on your hands and knees.”
“Why? What are-”
Before Etienne could finish his thought, Inelyn slapped him.
“What did I say?”
Not arguing again, the Breton turned around as requested. The Dragonborn resecured the chains onto a fixture on the wall parallel before getting up to take the item waiting on the table. A small whip he recently bought at the stables, which he was looking forward to breaking in. He leaned over Etienne, feeling the thief tense as he pressed the leather against his face.
“I will enjoy making you bleed, Rarnis.”
“Please, don’t do this,” he said frantically. “I’ll give you anything you want. Payment from my jobs. I won’t tell anyone this happened. Please.”
“I don’t need nor want your money. This is what I want. And you will not tell a soul if you know what’s good for you.”
He let the first experimental lash strike, deciding quickly that he liked the sharp yelp of pain and how red started to bloom over supple skin. It was as though the whip was an extension of his anger, being released in each crack.
“Oh, that is pretty, isn’t it?”
Etienne flinched with every strike on his back, clearly trying to keep in how much it hurt. Nevertheless, his knuckles were white as he grasped the bedding.
“I believe I’m being rather too light,” Inelyn remarked as he noted that he hadn’t yet broken skin. Once he said this, he saw the other’s back muscles tighten, the red lines going every which way. There was something exhilarating about it.
He let the whip crack harder, his heart fluttering as the first blood was drawn. He exhaled slowly as he calmed himself, then struck again, feeling his face flush with heat as the Breton’s back became more and stained with each strike of the whip.
Etienne made little sound after the shock of the first lash, but once Inelyn stopped to assess the progress, he noticed the red-rimmed eyes and streaks of tears. Oh, he’d make sure those tears ran completely dry by the time he was done.
He trailed a hand playfully along Etienne’s chest and down his torso, stopping to undo the lacing of his trousers. Once he realized what Inelyn was doing, he frantically tried to get away.
“O-oh gods, please.” He struggled under Inelyn’s grip. “Please don’t. Oh gods, please no.”
The Dunmer leaned over him, speaking close to his ear.
“My scars are on my legs, not my back. This wasn’t nearly the end of it.”
“As if you’re not going to…” Etienne trailed off, trying to move away from the hardness against him.
“In due time,” Inelyn said simply, pulling off the rest of the other’s clothing, revealing a cute little ass. “In due time indeed.”
“You’re more of a monster than the dragons.”
Inelyn merely chuckled darkly and stepped back, deciding where to strike next. The purchase of the whip had been a bit spontaneous, but he was glad he did so. This was turning out to be an interesting experience.
As the whip lashed against more sensitive skin, Etienne couldn’t prevent whimpers from escaping. Inelyn knew he was playing a dangerous game, a too-hard hit in the wrong place could go very wrong, but it was a risk he was willing to take.
He gazed at the fresh red stripes along Etienne’s legs and could hardly stand it much longer. He pulled his tunic up over his head and stepped out of his trousers, putting both neatly to the side. After staring at the scene before him a moment longer, he climbed onto the bed, showing one of his thighs to the captive Breton, turning the man’s face to see the faint scars. Etienne feebly attempted to move his head, avoiding looking at the far too close cock.
“Do you see what they did, Rarnis? Now you’ll get to match.”
“I’m sorry,” Etienne said, his voice weak. “I’m sorry for what happened to you. But I didn’t make them do anything. I had no part in it. Does this make you feel better? Taking it out on someone else because you can’t touch the ones who are actually responsible?”
Inelyn clenched his jaw, feeling his rage renewed. He moved away just enough to punch him.
“Yes it does,” he growled, watching Etienne hold his face in pain as he positioned himself behind. He ran his hands over the broken skin until his fingers were sufficiently wet before teasing one into the tight hole. Etienne immediately clenched. “Oh dear, you’re going to make things so much worse for yourself. So be it.”
He forced the rest of his finger in with one motion, earning a muffled whimper.
“You know, it could be worse. The lovely emissary still had his gloves on and not even my blood to help. At least at first.”
There was a lot of friction, but that didn't stop Inelyn from moving his hand as harshly as was tolerable to himself. Quickly he added the second, further motivated by broken gasps.
“I think that'll be all I will need,” he said, taking a brief moment to stroke himself, slicking his cock.
“Oh gods,” Etienne barely whispered.
“They haven't stopped me yet.”
Inelyn nearly whimpered himself as he entered the tight hole. So tight it was almost uncomfortable. He was careful, going slow. Even so, he could feel Etienne shake, crying quietly.
“Fuck,” he groaned. “That's so good.”
Bit by bit it became easier, and soon he was able to set a more consistent pace, his face flush with euphoria, his anger forgotten for the time as all that mattered was the promise of release. Seeing the mess in front of him, feeling tense muscles fight against him, it almost reminded him of the old days. Of tying and cutting up his writs, making sure they were in pain before death. He could not kill this one no, but the thought only encouraged him.
His desperate moans drowned out Etienne’s cries, increasing in frequency as he felt himself getting closer. He held the Breton’s hips tightly, impaling him as deep as possible as he came.
Once he pulled away, Etienne collapsed on the bed, shuddering as he held himself.
“A-are you done?” he whispered.
Inelyn laughed, once again pulling on his hair.
“No. You’re staying right there for now. They fucked me three times. You aren’t getting away with just once.”
He left for the other side of the room, wetting a cloth to clean himself up. Once finished, he pulled his tunic back over his head.
“I’ll be back for you,” he said before heading upstairs for the time being.
He sat and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. It really was a satisfactory feeling. Not enough, though. It still did not seem like enough. But better. Regardless, he wanted to remember the thrill of watching the whip crack against vulnerable skin. Exhilarating.
Sitting back comfortably in a chair, Inelyn took his time enjoying a bottle of wine until he heard the sound of a key at his front door. He smiled to himself, knowing there was only one person who had a copy, and repositioned himself, spreading his bare legs a little further.
“Lock the door behind you,” he said as Ravyn walked in.
“Oh?” Ravyn looked Inelyn over, quirking an eyebrow in approval. “What do you have in store today? You never tell me to lock the door.”
Inelyn motioned for him to come closer, wrapping his arms around the other’s waist once he could.
“Downstairs. I was hoping you would be back soon. Either way, I was going to keep him here until you arrived.”
“Ah, you caught Rarnis then?” Ravyn gave a crooked grin.
“Yes.” He stood and pulled him into a rough kiss. “How did the job go?”
“Fine enough. I really wish I could have killed the man. Ridiculously obnoxious.”
Inelyn laughed, letting his hands wander over Ravyn’s thighs and ass.
“Would you like to relieve your frustrations, then?”
“Very much so.”
He took Ravyn by the hand and led him downstairs, finding Etienne quietly crying to himself.
“Oh,” the fellow Dunmer said in mild surprise. Etienne turned to him once he realized it was a different voice, hope suddenly shining in his eyes.
“Ravyn—” he cut off, the hope disintegrating as he realized he was not going to be saved.
“This is a work of art, Inelyn. Sorry I didn’t get here sooner.” His body was very controlled, but only barely holding back, the line between lust and bloodlust ambiguous. Inelyn clung to him, kissing at his neck, rubbing teasingly at his hardening cock.
“You’re here now. I got him all ready for you to fuck as much as you want.”
“So you did. Will you enjoy watching me?” he asked close to Inelyn’s lips.
“How could I not?”
“Regardless of what he’s done, Mercer was right about both of you,” Etienne said, his venom weaker than he intended due to exhaustion. “He could tell there was something nastier about you. That you don’t have the right principles for the Guild. Maybe because he didn’t either, but this is so much worse.”
Inelyn walked over to him, seizing him by the hair and shoving his face against the wall. His eyes trailed to the round, human ears.
“The Direnni really failed your bloodline, didn’t they? I’m making sure you’ll have more Mer in you yet.”
Ravyn made a muffled little noise, the side of his mouth twitching as he clearly was trying not to laugh. Inelyn let go, going back to his lover, playing at the familiar guild armor.
“Don’t kill him of course, but do whatever else you want to him.”
“As you wish.”
The Dragonborn thief helped him undress, feeling himself get hard again as he touched the other’s warm skin, thinking about what he was about to watch. After one more kiss, he sat on the nearby chair to see what would happen.
His eyes intensely followed as Ravyn assessed what Inelyn had already done, finding he could already fit two fingers easily, Etienne’s hole still slightly wet with blood and come.
“I really don’t have to do much work, do I?” Ravyn said in vague amusement as he replaced his fingers with his cock.
A whimper formed in Inelyn’s throat watching his come leak from the battered asshole as Ravyn set a steady pace. He spread his legs and pulled up his tunic enough to touch himself, slowly working his hand around his shaft, lightly massaging his balls. He ran his fingers over the tip, using his precome. He increased his pace as Ravyn did, encouraged by the focused desire on his face as he violated their shaking cohort.
Inelyn tried to keep quiet to not be a distraction, but nevertheless his breath was ragged as he tugged at his oversensitive cock. He could see the look of pale horror on the Breton’s face as Ravyn railed into him mercilessly. Etienne started to bleed again, the bed creaking as though it would fall to pieces.
He let out a gravelled moan as he came, nearly crying out as he continued to stroke himself through the orgasm. For a moment he sat in his delirium, only partly aware of the crude, wet noises still occurring as Ravyn got closer to his own release.
Finally he focused as he felt Ravyn’s lips against his own.
“Well, I see you enjoyed yourself as well,” he said as he looked at the mess Inelyn made of himself.
“You would too if you had the pleasure of watching that.” The Dragonborn’s gaze went past him to Etienne, satisfied at the scene bathed in red, then returned, looking up and down the beautiful form. “I do like seeing you like this, but you should clean yourself up.”
“So what are you going to do about him?” asked Ravyn, looking at the broken man curled up into himself.
“I’ll allow him to leave shortly. I can’t have him missing for too long. Besides, he won’t mention it to Bryn or anyone else. I can only trust he’ll be smarter than that,” Inelyn said pointedly, making sure Etienne was listening. “If he values his life, that is.”
“I’ll leave it to you, then. Is there anything you want me to do?”
“Go up to the kitchen and find us a bite to eat,” he briefly placed his hand on Ravyn’s shoulder. “You can tell me about your trip before bed.”
“Of course.” With the faintest of smiles, Ravyn placed a kiss on his temple before leaving the room.
“I suppose I should heal you,” Inelyn sighed, sitting on the bed.
Etienne remained quiet as his back was being healed, brows furrowed, eyes staring into Oblivion.
Inelyn threw back the last of his mead, setting the bottle down on the bar quietly, which was swiftly taken by Vekel and replaced by a fresh one.
“I heard about the dragon you killed just outside the walls,” said the barkeep. “Too bad I was stuck down here and didn’t see it. I bet that was quite a sight.”
“Heard one of the guards nearly shit themselves,” laughed Vex. “Swords might as well be toothpicks.”
“You have to get at the wings,” Inelyn explained. “That’s why arrows are effective. Make sure the thing can’t fly anymore. It’s a much easier time once it’s on the ground. Of course, the Thu’um helps as well.”
His attention was caught as Etienne walked in. As soon as he saw Inelyn, he froze, and immediately changed direction, instead heading to the cistern.
“What’s his problem lately?” Vex grumbled.
“I think he hasn’t been quite right since he was captured by the Thalmor,” Inelyn said without missing a beat. “Very skittish.”
“What a shame. Well, as long as he does his job.”
“Yes. Though I feel as though Bryn should look into hiring people who are more… reliable. Regardless, it’s clear there will be changes coming to the Guild. Hopefully good.”
Inelyn smiled with a great sense of optimism. The Guild’s fate was looking up, he was closer to the defeat of Alduin, his mind was the clearest it had been in months. It was to be an exceptional year.