Marsh Romance

	Walks-In-Thorns let out a soft sigh, his breath forming into a small cloud of cold air. Skyrim was a harsh mistress to be sure, even more so for the argonians. His breastplate and pauldrons lightly scrapped each other, making a small, at times irritating screech. Tilted behind his head was a set of feathered wooden shafts, arrows for the bow that he wore over his shoulder like a messenger bag. His arms mostly bare, he wore gloves to protect his fingers from frostbite, leaving his short silver-made sword hanging from his belt and his small buckler on his back. Rubbing his hands together, the lizard blew his warm breath into the gloves to try and warm his still cold fingers.
	He walked on in fur lined boots, made from iron and leather to be sturdy and used for walking, which happened to be what he was currently doing. His pants were made of leather as well, tanned and lined with furs, inset with some iron to be used in defense as well as keep warm. He breathed through his nostrils, his yellow eyes keeping a vigil out for any trouble around. Along the back of his jawline, three small spikes jut out, stopped half way up his jaw before a small gap and the smallest of spikes came from his chin.
	Pushing out the back of his skull, Walks had two more horns, lightly curving up and in, while a septim hung from a chain and ring from his left horn. His scales were light in color, similar to grassy fields as the wind danced between the blades. He had darker spots as well, leaning more to a muted forest green, that was also found on the spikes lining down his tail. Not much more could be told, as the argonian wore no helm and was mostly covered except the small parts of his arms.
	The path lightly crunched underneath his feet as Walks continued his trek towards Riften. After visiting Windhelm and the argonians from the Argonian Assemblage,  he was happy to move on to find more of his kin in this barren wasteland of snow. His lips lightly turned up at the corners as he thought of Neetrenaza, Shahvee, Stands-In-Shallows and Scouts-Many-Marshes. It was rare to find argonians this far north, yet there were and Walks planned to visit them and as such, Riften was his next target. The argonian’s mind wandered lightly to little over a week ago, when he and Scouts were out a bit late. Scouts had admitted a few things that were followed by a dark alleyway where the lizard’s hands roamed Walks’s chest and Walks’s hands sliding up and down Scouts back. Walks could still remember the feel of the scaly texture of the other argonian’s lips as they kissed. A light tinge of red stained Walks-In-Thorns cheeks as he thought of that night and his grin grew somewhat wider.
	All of a sudden, pulled from his reverie, Walks heard a shout. Quickly, the argonian removed the bow on his body and reached back, nocking an arrow the the string. Leaving it at rest, he hurried off the path and into the wooded side. Dodging trees, he came upon a small clearing, likely a campsite, where a caravan sat circled on one side by people with weapons drawn and heavy looking armor. Peering closer, Walks saw an argonian on the ground, pressed back against the caravan and holding his side. Growling to himself, Walks growled, taking stock of the bandits.
	Two high elves, twins it appeared as they looked nearly similar in all but build. The female likely the warrior, clad in steel armor with a two handed blade in her hands, and the male the castor as he wore a robe and was confirmed when little bits of lightning arced between his hands. An orc wearing heavy plate armor and wielding a two handed hammer stood next to an Imperial man, wearing leather and holding a bow drawn at the unknown kinsman of the paladin argonian. A wood elf had a sword and shield gripped tightly while standing next to another robe clad figure, a female khajiit with a staff in her hands, likely another mage or their healer.
	Drawing the string of his bow back, he took aim, the feathered end of the shaft lightly touching his cheek. With a slight sigh, he let his arrow fly, straight into the mages chest. A cry of alarm as a crimson trail stained the robe caused the bandits to turn towards him in shock. Already having drawn a second arrow to his bow, Walks took aim again, at the marksman this time before releasing. Already, they looked towards him and the imperials instinct seemed to be good as he dodged the arrow, it sliding off his armor. With another growl, the argonian paladin dropped his bow, pulling his shield onto his arm and sliding his sword free.
	The three armed bandits were already rushing towards him, as Walks-In-Thorns himself charged forward. A brief glance behind showed the marksman on his knee, drawing the bow back and taking aim while further away, he saw the cat lady over the mage, her hands glowing with magic as she pulled the bloody arrow from his body. His guess at her profession was correct. His focus returning to his impending collision, the argonian raised his shield and heard the dull thunk of the arrow on it as it fell to the ground. Peering over the top of his buckler, he swung his arm out as the two handed blade fell on it, pushing it to the side and swinging his sword up, he caught the elf off guard, quickly slicing into her lower side. Red stained the argonian’s sword as he kicked the elf and backtracked to avoid the hammer that was swung down in an attempt to smash his skull in.
	A dull ping sounded as an arrow hit his armor and bounced off, making him growl softly from his chest. He’d have to take out that archer. Jumping back again, he avoided the hammer and caught the other elf’s one handed sword with his own. Shoving his weight into the sword, he threw the elf off balance and swiftly moved forward, throwing a shoulder into the orc’s gut. Walks grit his teeth in pain, that armor wasn’t easy, but the orc was tilted over and gave the lizard a chance to move around and run at the archer.
	Another arrow came at Walks as he used his blade to cut it in half. Using the same motion of his swing, he reversed the blade, coming up to the archer and swinging his arm back around. Clocking the Imperial in the temple, the man laid sprawled on the ground as the argonian rolled forward over the prone man and stood back up, shield raised and sword once more corrected in his palm as the three combatants came at him again. The orc had donned a metal helmet, an unwise decision in Walks’s mind. Growling, he waited, posed to evade if needed. The plate clad beast of a man came barreling at Walks, his hammer being swept horizontally. Ducking under it, the argonian brought his shield up and hit the side of the green skinned male’s helmet, a dull ring sounding out in the wooded area. Kicking the orc, Walks turned and swept aside a sword slash with his own. For the time being, only the two elves remained.
	The female elf grabbed the edge of her blade and brought it around, trying to use force on Walks. The male elf swung low, at the lizard’s feet. Using his sword to stop the male, his shield took the brunt of the female’s attack as Walks grit his teeth. The buckler held, but the power behind that swing made his arm tremble. Pushing both off, he rammed into the female before swinging back around to catch the male’s sword on his crossguard. Straining against the elf’s strength, the argonian moved and let it swing down and force the blade into the ground. The elf was shocked right before a foot smacked into his jaw and he flew onto his back, groaning.
	The standing elf looked around at her comrades, all but the healer taken out besides her. Walks-In-Thorns only sighed softly before speaking. “I really do not wish to take your lives. If the fighting continues, however, I may be forced to.”
	The elf looked at him, nodding slightly. Turning to the others, she spoke, “Enough of this, let us be gone from this place!” Grabbing the archer, she made her way to the edge of the clearing, the orc stumbling somewhat with the mage in hand and the healer picking up the one handed swordsman. As they shambled out of sight, Walks turned to the caravan and walked towards the argonian resting there.
	The other argonian, gazed at Walks, his scaly lips curling into a light smile. “The nine favor me this day, Marsh friend.”
	“Nothing more than what I would have done for any other in need.” Replied Walks-In-Thorns, gazing at his fellow lizard kin. His scales were lighter than Walks’s own, being more akin to leaf green, with the except of his darker scales and face, which were darker than his own. Along his jaw line there were spikes, similar to Walks’s own, his head producing two small horns while the rest were rusty orange feathers. Piercing round pupils gazed upon Walks’s own, before his eyes moved on to take in the rest.
	The argonian wore fine clothes, a tunic of deep dark blue, punctuated with gold strap like bands that made it look like a vest. Between bands, it was more black than any other. His legs were adorned in cloth, brown while his feet wore fur lined boots. Blood soaked around an already slightly red hand in the other argonian’s side. Kneeling, Walks took his bag off, rummaging around in the magical container until he pulled out a bottle of red liquid.
	Offering the bottle to the other argonian, Walks asked, “What is your name?”
	Pulling out the cork, the argonian chugged down the liquid, sighing as he handed the bottle back, cork in place. “I am called Madesi. And what would be the name of my savior?”
	“I am Walks-In-Thorns. You may calls me Walks.”
	“I am in your debt, Walks-In-Thorns.” Wincing, Madesi stood up and sighed softly. “I must see to the damages those bandits have caused me.” The argonian proceeded to lightly limp over to the back of the caravan, not yet fully recovered from the potion running through him. Following behind, Walks observed as the other lizard man began to climb into the back and rummage around.
	With a hiss being heard, Walks looked into the caravan and saw an angered Madesi by a few bags. “Those bandits made off with precious supplies!” Sighing, the argonian began shuffling things into a singular, large bag and tying it off before heaving it towards the open back. “At least they didn’t get it all.”
	Offering a hand, Walks calmly stated, “I will carry your bag for you.”
	Taking the hand, Madesi was helped down. “I can not ask that of you.”
	“I insist.”
	“As you wish.” Reluctantly, Madesi handed over the bag. Grinning, Walks offered, “I’ll escort you to Riften. I am assuming there is where your business is?”
	Madesi nodded as he responded, “Yes, that is where my craft takes place.” Walks watched as the other argonian began to walk normally, fully recovered with the potion before moving to where the bow was dropped and grabbing it. Pulling it over his shoulder, the dark argonian lightly jogging to catch up to the other.
	The trees stood pale, a leaf or two trying to show from the harsh cold wind that lashed around the two lizard folk. Shifting the weight of the bags around a bit, Walks-In-Thorns asked, “What is it that you do, Madesi?”
	“I am a jewel crafter. One of the only Saxleel jewel crafters left in all of Tamriel.” The light argonian sighed. “The bandits robbed me of much needed materials. Riften is not the best place to set up shop, as septims and materials are not the easiest to come by.”
	Walks looked at the other argonian, his eyes drifting a bit to the tail base as they walked, a small grin on his face before his gaze went to his surroundings. “Let me know if you ever need any ore or gems, I find them often enough in my travels.”
	Madesi turned and looked at Walks. “You are quite the hero, aren’t you?”
	“I try to be, in a sense. I like helping others.”
	Madesi sighed softly before turning and starting off again along the dirt path. “I thank you for the offer, but there is no need for such generosity. We are but strangers put together.”
	“Then speak so we may become better acquinted with each other, marsh friend.”
	There was a pause between the two before Madesi deigned to speak again. “You wear a septim on your horn as an ornament. Why?”
	The darker argonian’s small smile waned until he was set into a more neutral frown. “It is a story to tell. The short version, however, is that it was a septim my mother gave to me to buy bread before slavers came and killed my village. It is all I have of her and of my past these days.”
	An awkward pause before the light argonian lightly breathed out, “I am sorry marsh friend.”
	“What’s past is past and none may change that.”
	Awkward silence followed as the two lizard folk continued along the path, the sun slowly sinking. The only other slight delay in their travels was when a wolf decided to come after the two and Walks-In-Thorns swiftly dealt with it. A brown bear was seen fishing, lifting it’s head to look at the two in passing before going back to staring at the water and waiting for the fish to jump into it’s jaws.
	The sun was already sinking behind the mountains by the time the two argonians finally beheld the walls of Riften, the lake it was built near glimmering with faint sparkles from a dying sun. A guard stepped into their path as they approached the wooden gate, commanding, “Halt! If you desire entrance, you must pay the fee.”
	Madesi hissed. “Rigmar! Let me in, you bloody idiot. I already have enough trouble without you parading about seeking money for Riften.”
	The guard hesitated before moving back, muttering a “My apologizes” before he stood at attention. The other guard walked back into the alcove the gate was nestled in pulled it open to allow the two entry into the city.
	The cobblestone path was uneven, Walks could already see that. Most of the buildings were wooden here, two story from the looks of it. A small wooden bridge appeared slightly to the right of his vision down the street as well as barrels near one of the houses. Moving behind Madesi, the dark argonian kept an eye out for any trouble. Most people seemed to be moving about, likely heading home or to wherever they slept. Crossing the wooden bridge, Walks-In-Thorns noticed that it ran over a lower section of the city, running along a canal that wound through the city and around the inn, the Bee and the Barb if the sign was any indication.
	They moved around the inn, sticking to the left as they passed a priest. “May the blessing of Mara be upon you.” The hooded priest said as he moved towards a temple off to the left. Madesi let out a soft sigh as he shook his head and followed around the building of the inn to find a big forge lit with coals. A nord man, face sooty with brown hair to his shoulders and a handle-bar muscle had his hands to his back and bending slightly to work out his lower back kinks when Madesi spoke. “Balimund.”
	The nord looked and then a slight smile graced his features. “Ah, Madesi. I assume that you got your materials and are needing my talents?” A frown from the argonian made the nord pause and look at Walks before looking back. “Bandits?”
	Madesi nodded then beckoned the dark argonian forward. Reaching into his bag again, Walks pulled out the large sack and handed it to Balimund, after a signal from the light argonian. “I’m afraid it’s all that was left after the caravan was ransacked. Do what you can Balimund.”
	The nord nodded his head. “I will do as you say Madesi. It is heart-breakening that the divine do not look after us since the Thalmor came.”
	“Some of them may.” Madesi eyed Walks from the corner of his eye. Walks was aware, even as he scanned his surroundings a bit. Then the light argonian sighed and offered, “I can offer you a drink for all you’ve done for me, Walks-In-Thorns. Come, we’ll go to the inn for mead.”
	The short walk to the inn from Balimund’s outside forge brought the pair to wooden doors, which they opened and closed before Walks looked around. The was cozy, as expected of an inn, chairs and tables next to wooden support beams for the upper level. He could see, a bit at a diagonal another door, likely leading out to the wooden bridge he had seen earlier. Furs and dead animals adorned the walls as he followed Madesi forward. Moving to the left, they approached a bar, argonain woman tending to a glass with a rag as they sat, a fireplace burning logs nearby.
	“Keerava. Two mugs of mead if you’d be so kind.”
	The argonian woman, Keerava, nodded and poured the drinks into mugs, handing it to the two men. Walks noticed that she was lighter scaled than either of them, as was the normal with argonian females, and her eyes red. Besides her common dress, red and green that showed a little cleavage, Walks didn’t see too much before she went around the counter and approached another argonian, likely a business partner.
	Turning back, the dark green argonian saw Madesi with his arms crossed on the counter, his heading resting it as he stared forward. He sighed, raising his head and drinking deeply of the alcohol. “Ah, what am I to do now? My business will suffer from the lack of materials.”
	Walks-In-Thorns thought on the other’s rambling thoughts before he reached into his bottomless bag again, pulling out a silver necklace with the amulet being decorated with many delicate gems. He put it on the table next to Madesi, who leaned back in awe.
	“W-what is this?!”
	“A necklace. Fine. Likely will support you until new supplies come in.”
	The light green argonian shook his head, feathers swaying lightly. “I can’t accept this.”
	Walks just huffed, crossing his arms. “Too bad. It’s yours now.”
	Madesi just looked between the necklace and the dark green argonian, who hadn’t shifted his facial expression from his no non-sense down curve mouth and his crossed arms. Finally, the argonian hesitantly picked up the amulet, before he rubbed it. Murmuring to himself, Madesi lifted the delicate chains and put it on himself.
	At Walks’s questioning eye ridge, Madesi explained, “To keep it safe for the time being.” The dark green argonian just nodded, reaching forward to down his mead. Gulping and letting out a pleased noise, he stood. “I am going for a swim. You’re welcome to join me Madesi.” He proceeded to walk out the door, grinning lightly as he heard the footsteps of the other argonian behind him.
	Across the small bridge and through the gate, with the guards warning them to not stay out too late in case of bandits, the two lizard folk traveled along the path to a small area a bit away from town. Devoid of too many trees, but far enough to be alone, Walks-In-Thorns said, “Here’s good” and proceeded to unbuckled and unstrap his armor and gear. Setting the armor, weapons and bags against one of the sparse trees, the argonian stretched while wearing only his loincloth. He could feel the gaze of Madesi on his back as he was looked over.
	With a cheeky grin, the dark green argonian did as he desired, shedding off his loincloth and shivering in the chilly air. He always loved the feeling of water on his bare scales and here, he was with his own kind. It also helped that Madesi seemed unlikely to initiate such acts, so he said, “Come, let us swim as we are suppose to marsh friend.”
	Walks looked over his shoulder, seeing the faint blush as well as the quick eye-movement, meaning the lighter scaled argonian had been looking somewhere he wasn’t. Not that Walks didn’t want that. The argonian grinned and walked over onto the shore, slowly sinking inch by inch in the cold water. He groaned lightly as the water climbed higher, before he dove into the water, completely submerged. Swimming out, he breathed through his gills, enjoying the moisture all around him.
	The dark argonian heard a splash and saw the lighter lizard come forth, bare. Both stopped, lightly floating under the water as the two eyed the other’s nude form. A blush rose to Madesi’s face as Walks swam closer, asking, “How’s the water, Madesi?”
	“I-it is chilly, but good, marsh friend.”
	Walks-In-Thorns swam even closer, wrapping his arms around Madesi’s neck, his eyes lidded as he grinned. The lighter argonian tensed before relaxing. “Do you trust me Madesi?”
	Madesi’s own eyes lidded, blush evident as the warmth between the two became obvious, strange for the cold-blooded race. “With my life.” The lighter argonian whispered.
	Any hesitation was gone as whatever space was left between the two vanished, Walks-In-Thorns claiming Madesi’s lips as his own. Teeth, tongue and lips all fought in a struggle for dominance, hands grasping and groping as the two found passion under the water.

	Madesi lied awake in the bed, sleeping on top of the fur blankets as he sighed. The dark rafters above faired better in the dark than he did. Absentmindedly, he twisted the ring on his left hand, grinning slightly as he remembered that day. It had been roughly two and a half years since that day, the day their fire started.
	It hadn’t been long before Walks-In-Thorns had to leave Riften, leaving the light argonian feeling like a part of himself was missing. When the dark argonian came back, he brought materials typically and Madesi felt like he could be happy once again. It had continued like that for a few months before Walks came to the jeweler and asked if he could make two rings, wedding bands.
	The fact that the dark argonian asked that of him had crushed Madesi, who was just realizing he was in love with Walks. A one night stand, he believed, had kindled into more. He said yes, even though it broke him. The rings were made and paid for. The day after, as Madesi contemplated his life and where to go, Walks showed up, wearing the amulet of Mara and asked for the light argonian’s hand in matrimony. Madesi had never been happier in his life.
	The wedding had been small, just people around and the few friends Walks had made coming for the ceremony. Seems he told the others in advance that he was getting married. Madesi still remembered it all, happier beyond believe. Though even now, he had some trouble with his husband’s way of life.
	It had taken him a while, to come to Walks’s ideas for life. He was happy to say he was learning the ways of the lover, through pleasure or kindness. He still was a bit shocked that his husband had convinced a dragon to a threesome with him. It was marvelous. Yet still, Madesi tried not to mate with everyone. He was still loyal only to Walks-In-Thorns. Walks may be dragon born, having the soul of a dragon, but that dragon soul was his and his only. Madesi would forever come to the raging fire of his heart, the dragonborn, Walks-In-Thorns.