Night of Lovers

• Posted by A-Pocky-Hah! February 13, 2016 - 1,118 views

  Night of Lovers

  

  Warning: Contains adult content.

  16th Sun’s Dawn, 4E 185

  The waves of the Abecean Sea gently crash into the pebbled shores of Anvil. The night was alive with stars sparkling and the Moon bring out its brightest glow as it was the day were lovers reunite, Heart’s Day. A day where the people of Tamriel remember the Lovers, Polydor and Eloisa.

  Every house in Anvil boomed with parents and elders singing, “The Legend of the Lovers” to their young ones. Visitors and travelers crowded The Count’s Arm, hoping to claim the free rooms offered by the owner. Even beggars took the opportunity to finally sleep under a lush, soft pillow for a day.

  Those who are devout worshipers of the Divines would go to the Chapel of Dibella to pray in honor of the Lovers and give charity to the poor. It is said that if such kindness had been given to the Lovers, it would always be springtime in the world.

  However the night was still young for two star-crossed lovers as they ran for the docks, holding their hands, giggling.

  “Come Elisa, my father’s boat is just nearby.” Said Marcel. The Imperial wore a purple doublet emblazoned in golden leaves. His hair was black as the night and eyes sparkling like the stars.

  The Breton woman was also fine dressed. A gown of grey velvet covered her from shoulder to heel with a foxskin cloak wrapped around her collar.

  Dibella’s heart, I can’t believe this day would come. He finally asked me out. Elisa thought.

  The two had met a few years ago when Marcel’s father came to Anvil and help rebuild the city after the Great War. When she saw the handsome and young boy, she fell in love but she was shy to approach him until he approached her first.

  They became friends after that but Elisa was still unable express her true feelings to him. She was afraid if Marcel would reciprocate the same feeling or leave her. He had been kind to her and her family, even her parents seem to agree that the Imperial would make a fine choice which at that time, Elisa didn’t know what they were talking about but she did now.

  “Behold!” Marcel announced, spreading his arms like a majestic eagle. “The Sparrow.”

  It was a medium-sized merchant ship. The wooden hull was lacquered and reinforced with steel frames. The decks were empty and quiet except for the seagulls and the bell ringing from the the top of the mast. Sailors celebrate Heart’s Day in The Flowing Bowl, drinking and singing and telling tales of their adventures.

  Marcel gave her his hand to help her board the ship. His gloved hand were like pillows made out of the softest feathers, gently squeezing her smooth skin.

  She was feeling a bit woozy as the waves pushed the tied merchant ship up and down. Marcel held her by the arms when she started to fall. She could feel the same touch she felt when boarding on her sleeves, making her heart beat slightly faster.

  He steered her into the Captain’s chamber. It was furnished with everything a captain needed before beginning his voyage. Maps, charts, a brass telescope, compasses, display cases, a bed and even a rack which held the captain’s tricone hat and coat.

  “I hope you like Surilie’s. It’s a rare vintage 399. Only a few still remained.” He revealed the brown-glassed wine bottle and placed two wine glasses on the captain’s desk.

  “I... I actually do.” Elisa said. In truth, she prefered Tamika’s over the Surilie Brothers. But she didn’t dare say it as it might dampen his mood.

  They shared the bottle of wine together until the last bottom cup, laughing and remembering the years before. For a moment, she thought they were the only living beings in Anvil as all the noise from outside were gone the moment the door was shut. It’s a shame this couldn’t last. She yearned for the chance to finally be together with the man of her dreams, if only she could muster enough courage to say those simple three little words.

  “Elisa, there’s something I need to tell you something. The real reason why I brought you here.” Marcel broke the silence in the chamber. He sounded so nervous until it made her nervous too.

  “Yes, what is it?” She asked in anticipation. By the Eight, Is he confessing his love for me? She prayed to Mara and Dibella that it was what he will say. All this time, she was the one who was shy. But it seems she wasn’t the only one.

  “I know we’ve known each other for quite a few years and we’re friends and all.” He was shaking. His fingers were tangled as he tried to gain his composure. “The truth is, I like you, Elisa, not as a friend but as a...”

  “Soulmate?” She finished the Imperial’s sentence. He does love me. Her heart whispered. They were both surprised to see that they share the same mutual feeling.

  Marcel moved closer towards Elisa, prompting her to moved back until her hands clutched the edge of the desk. This made her feel uneasy but her heart beated faster as the Imperial stepped closer. She could only bow her head in reticence.

  A hand touched her chin and raise her face until she could see her beloved Marcel, admiring his fair complexion and light blue eyes that reminded her of the sky. His eyes met hers, both having the same expression; hesitation.

  Marcel moved his head closer. Elisa seemingly did the same, following her heart’s content. I want to be with him. She said to herself. And he wants to be with me. They broke a kiss as their lips touched. It seemed natural for her. Perhaps it was the wine that blocked out all her sense except her desire or perhaps it was Lady Mara guiding her.

  “I love you, Elisa.” Marcel whispered to her ears. “Will you marry me?”

  “Yes.” She whispered back without hesitation. “You have already given me what I had forgotten all these years. Perhaps.. perhaps I would give you something in return.”

  Elisa tried to unlace her gown but her clumsy hands wouldn’t do as she commanded. Marcel helped her, his hands weave through the laces as if he’d used some type of magic. But she couldn’t wait any longer. The lust was taking over her mind. She kissed Marcel again as the last lacing was untied. The gown slipped below, revealing her shoulders and down to the waist. She was blushing as he saw her, so beautiful and lovely.

  “Are you sure about this?” Marcel asked wearily.

  Elisa gave a shy nod. Yes, take me. I always wanted you to take my maidenhood, my dear Marcel. They embraced, the desk shook as the two kiss and moan.

  Suddenly, a gust of wind blew the door open. All their foreplay was ceased to a halt when a sense of dread filled the chamber. Elisa was shivering in fear, regaining back her senses. When she looked at Marcel, he too was scared. She looked back at the door only to have a dagger stabbed in her stomach.

  Marcel cried out for her as she bled to death, she could see the shrouded figure who stabbed her, those glowing eyes and that menacing grin, they were unearthly. She tried to reach out for her lover but collapsed, still bleeding.

  “You bastard! She was going to be my wife!” The Imperial shouted, his fear was overcome by anger and grief. He grabbed a cutlass from the display case and tried to fight his attacker.

  Through her dying eyes, Elisa could see how brave he was trying to be to save her. Be brave, my dear Marcel. She kept thinking of those words as the world around her slowly faded away.

  “Oh no, you’re not going to do that, boy.” The figure said. He raised his hand, chanting some sort of spell, it’s language unknown. A green hue covered his hand and he cast some kind of spell at Marcel.

  The Imperial suddenly stopped and clutched his left chest, where his heart was located. He felt an agonizing pain inside and screamed as something tried to emerge from his chest.

  The figure chant louder and faster,  making Marcel scream louder and louder until it would crack the windows. Then, his heart popped out of his chest, leaving a large, bloodied hole. He touched the hole on his chest for a brief moment before collapsing to the ground, dead.

  The figure drew Marcel’s heart closer to him, still beating and preserved it in a red tinted bubble. He walked away from the ship as sailors who heard the screams ran towards it.

  “What a bloody Heart’s Day this turned out to be.” The figure remarked to himself before disappearing into the night.

  Author's Note:

  Well, that's my contribution to Phil's The Dibellan Rites. For the record, this is my first time writing a semi-love story because I hate getting all emotional and mushy inside. So, I accept any criticism (or rotten tomatoes). I may create a sequel... or perhaps not.