P/S: This is a long one. I got carried away.
While the streets of Dawnstar glowed with the soft light of magically powered lamps and its citizens enjoyed the conveniences of magically heated homes and readily available food, Ibnor maintained a careful balance between public release and strategic secrecy.
He had authorized the distribution of common everyday gadgets such as magically powered clocks, lighters, torches, and the ubiquitous lamps beyond Dawnstar's borders. These items, relatively simple in design and easily replicable with sufficient magical knowledge, served as valuable trade goods, bringing prosperity to the city and establishing its reputation as a hub of innovation.
However, the more advanced technologies, those that truly held the potential to reshape warfare, governance, and even the very fabric of society, remained closely guarded secrets within Dawnstar's walls.
The Genesis Engine itself, along with its more complex applications – the potential city-wide barrier, the concept of horseless carriages, and other projects still under development – were not shared beyond a select few. Ibnor understood that such power, if wielded irresponsibly, could destabilize the delicate political landscape of Skyrim.
He hadn't forgotten his other allies, however. The bond forged with Jarl Balgruuf of Whiterun during times of shared hardship remained strong, a beacon of trust in a world of shifting alliances.
Ibnor recognized the strategic importance of Whiterun, its central location and robust defenses making it a key player in Skyrim's affairs. He believed that sharing certain carefully chosen technologies with Balgruuf could strengthen their alliance and provide a valuable safeguard against potential threats.
Thus, under the cover of night, a small, discreet envoy departed Dawnstar, carrying a message and several carefully packaged devices for Jarl Balgruuf. The envoy, composed of trusted members of the Wraiths, traveled with utmost secrecy, avoiding main roads and utilizing hidden paths to ensure their mission remained undetected.
Upon reaching Whiterun, the envoy was granted immediate access to Dragonsreach. They were ushered into a private meeting chamber, where Jarl Balgruuf awaited them, accompanied by his trusted advisor, Proventus Avenicci. The atmosphere was one of quiet anticipation, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows on the stone walls.
The envoy presented Ibnor's message, a formal greeting expressing his continued friendship and a discreet offer of technological assistance. Balgruuf, after reading the message, turned his attention to the packages. With a nod from the envoy, they were carefully opened, revealing the contents within.
Among the items presented were several prototypes: a long-distance distress system, capable of sending urgent messages across vast distances in a fraction of the time it would take a messenger on horseback; an intricate alarm system, designed to detect intrusions and alert guards with magical precision; and several examples of fire prevention tools, devices imbued with magic that could extinguish flames instantly and prevent them from spreading.
Balgruuf examined the devices with a mixture of curiosity and awe. Proventus, ever the pragmatist, carefully questioned the envoy about their functionality, their limitations, and their potential applications. The envoy, trained by Ibnor himself, provided clear and concise explanations, emphasizing the strategic advantages these technologies could offer Whiterun.
"This… this could change everything," Balgruuf murmured, turning over a small, intricately carved device that served as a prototype for a magically activated alarm. "A system that can alert us to danger from leagues away… it would be invaluable."
Proventus nodded in agreement.
"And the fire prevention tools," he added, "could significantly reduce the risk of devastating fires within the city walls. This is truly remarkable, Jarl."
Balgruuf turned to the envoy, a look of genuine gratitude in his eyes.
"Tell King Ibnor that Balgruuf is grateful," he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "This... this is more than just a gift. It's a token of the friendship we've forged. Whiterun will not forget this act of goodwill."
The envoy, their mission accomplished, slipped out of Whiterun as silently as they had arrived, melting back into the night.
Back in Dawnstar, Ibnor paced the ramparts of the keep, the wind whipping at his cloak. He scanned the horizon, his gaze drawn to the distant silhouette of the Throat of the World, a silent sentinel watching over Skyrim. He didn't need a report to know the mission had been a success; he felt it in the subtle shift in the magical energies that flowed between Dawnstar and Whiterun, a strengthening of the subtle threads that bound their cities together.
This exchange, he knew, was more than just a sharing of trinkets; it was a strategic investment, a down payment on a future where Dawnstar and Whiterun stood united against the rising tides of uncertainty. Some innovations were meant to illuminate the world, but others, like these carefully chosen gifts, were best wielded in the shadows, tools of diplomacy and strategic advantage.
Even as he solidified his alliance with Whiterun, Ibnor's mind was already turning to another, less conventional but equally valuable asset: the Thieves Guild. He still held the mantle of Guild Master, a position he maintained with a delicate balance of authority and respect.
He understood the Guild's intricate dynamics, knew that their motivations extended beyond mere coin. It was the thrill of the impossible heist, the dance on the edge of discovery, the mastery of navigating intricate security systems that truly drove them.
He could almost taste the anticipation, the electric charge that ran through the Guild when a challenging target presented itself. It was this very energy, this drive for the extraordinary, that Ibnor intended to harness.
Instead of a general recruitment drive, Ibnor opted for a targeted approach, engaging the Guild's leadership directly. A coded message, relayed through the usual clandestine channels, reached Brynjolf in Riften, summoning him to a clandestine meeting.
Knowing the weight of Ibnor's position and the potential implications of such a summons, Brynjolf brought Delvin Mallory, whose sharp intellect and deep understanding of the Guild's labyrinthine structure were invaluable in any delicate negotiation. He also discreetly invited Karliah. Her experience with the Nightingales and her understanding of covert operations beyond the Guild's usual scope made her a valuable asset in such a discussion.
The rendezvous took place under the cloak of a moonless night, in a secluded grove nestled within the forests bordering the Rift. Ibnor, accompanied by a small contingent of Wraiths, awaited Brynjolf, Delvin, and Karliah. The grove was still and tense, broken only by the rustling of leaves and the distant hooting of an owl.
"Brynjolf, Delvin, Karliah, Vex" Ibnor greeted them, his voice low and measured, the light from the small magical lantern illuminating the seriousness in his eyes.
"I've requested this meeting to discuss a matter of mutual benefit, one that could significantly reshape the landscape of information gathering in Skyrim."
"And what precisely does this 'mutual benefit' entail, Guild Master?" Brynjolf, ever cautious, cut straight to the point.
"Basically, Dawnstar is enlisting soldiers, and those who join will be provided with full provisions, including housing and a regular salary. A stable career, if you will. And I'm offering a post, exclusively for the members of the Guild," Ibnor went straight to the point.
"You want to hire the members as soldiers?" Brynjolf asked, perplexed.
"In a way," Ibnor admitted. "But, it is slightly different from what you think."
"How so?" Delvin asked, curious.
"That exclusive job offer I mentioned? It's for the formation of a specialized division within this army." Ibnor explained, his gaze sweeping across all three. "A division dedicated to gathering strategic intelligence, conducting covert operations, and anticipating threats to Dawnstar"
"So, you want us to be your spies?" Delvin, his eyes gleaming with shrewd interest, leaned forward.
"No, I want to create Dawnstar's own spies." Ibnor replied.
"Just tell us what the hell you mean, Boss. Are we spies for you, or not? And who's paying?" Vex said, her frustration clear.
"The division will operate as a distinct Dawnstar's intelligence agency, with no direct affiliation to the Thieves Guild. This separation ensures that the Guild's autonomy remains intact, and that the army's intelligence operations are conducted with the utmost professionalism."
"Are you saying you want to take away the members of the Guild? You know it doesn't work that way, lad. If we really wanted to be soldiers, we wouldn't be joining the Guild in the first place." Brynjolf said.
"That's where you are wrong, Bryn. Not all of them. Some are out for desperation. Some for protection. And of course, there are also those like us, for the thrills." Ibnor retorted. "Need a better life? There are life benefits in joining my army. Need protection? My name is a deterrent on its own. Looking for a thrill? You'll get more than that, I promised you. I'm simply offering what they need, in exchange for loyalty."
"But still…" Brynjolf is at loss. He disagreed but couldn't find the words to argue.
"I understand your concern, Bryn. But think of it like this," Ibnor said, his voice softened. "Life is hard as it is in Skyrim. I'm offering a betterment in life. A secure job. A solid future."
"That's not all, is it?" Karliah, who had been listening intently, finally spoke. "Knowing you, there's more to this than just soldiers and pay."
"That's all there is to it," Ibnor grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Naturally, I'm a strong believer in personal freedom. What my soldiers do in their off-hours is entirely their own affair. Even if they were to, say, join a certain guild, provided they remain undetected, it's none of my business."
"You mean…" Vex's eyes twinkled with realization.
Brynjolf, Delvin and Karliah also understand his hidden meaning.
"The division will operate under my direct command, receiving the full support and resources of Dawnstar. You would have access to information, resources, and even magical technologies that would otherwise be beyond your reach."
He paused, letting his words resonate.
"Furthermore," he continued, emphasizing the key advantage, "I would offer you a level of protection and influence that you currently lack. My influence within Dawnstar and my alliances beyond its walls would extend to this division, shielding them from unwanted attention and providing a powerful buffer against interference from other factions."
"This is more than just a simple job recruitment. You're talking about a fundamental shift—moving beyond thievery into the realm of… influence." Karliah said, her voice was low and smooth, carrying a weight of experience.
"Precisely," Ibnor confirmed, meeting her gaze directly. "The world is changing, Karliah. The old ways are not enough. This is an opportunity to adapt, to evolve, to become something more than just thieves. To become… players in a larger game."
Brynjolf and Delvin exchanged a long, considering look. The offer was even more enticing with Karliah's added perspective. It offered the Guild a chance to move beyond petty thievery and into the realm of high-stakes espionage, with the backing of a powerful ally and the strategic insight of a seasoned operative like Karliah. It was a gamble, certainly, but one with the potential for considerable reward.
"And what would this… division be called?" Delvin inquired, a subtle smile playing on his lips.
"The Spectres," Ibnor replied, a hint of cheekiness in his voice. "They will be the unseen eyes and ears of Dawnstar, operating in the shadows, ensuring its security and prosperity."
"So, let's be clear," Brynjolf said, leaning back against a gnarled tree root, "this Spectre business… it's separate from the Guild's usual affairs. We don't want any confusion, any crossed wires."
"Precisely," Ibnor confirmed. "The Spectres will have their own chain of command, reporting directly to me. Their targets will be strategic, focused on information gathering and threat prevention, not petty thievery or personal gain."
"And what about information sharing?" Delvin asked, his eyes narrowed shrewdly. "We're not going to be handing over all our secrets to Dawnstar, are we?"
"Of course not," Ibnor replied. "Information relevant to Dawnstar's security, or information that could prevent a large-scale threat that could impact the Guild as well, will be shared with the Spectres. Likewise, any intelligence they uncover that might be of use to the Guild in their normal operations will be passed along. It's a two-way street."
"And what about the delicate balance between the two? The Guild has its own… methods. We don't want the Spectres stepping on our toes, or vice versa." Karliah, who had been listening intently, asked.
"That's where clear communication and defined roles are essential," Ibnor stated. "The Spectres will focus on external threats, on gathering intelligence outside the Guild's usual sphere of influence. They won't be interfering with your existing contracts or operations within cities. Their focus is larger, more strategic."
"And if there's a conflict?" Brynjolf pressed. "If the interests of the Guild and the Spectres happen to clash?"
"Then we'll discuss it, openly and honestly. I value the Guild's independence, and I wouldn't jeopardize its existence for a short-term gain. I am, after all, the Guild Master." Ibnor met Brynjolf's gaze directly.
"Sounds like you're trying to run two guilds at once, Guild Master." Delvin chuckled.
"Perhaps," Ibnor conceded with a slight smile. "But I believe it's a necessary step. These are changing times, and we must adapt to survive and thrive."
"So," Brynjolf concluded, after a moment of thoughtful silence, "the Spectres are our eyes and ears in the wider world, working for you, but still under the Guild's umbrella. They get resources and protection from Dawnstar, and we get a cut of the information and a shield against outside interference. Is that the gist of it?"
"Do I really need to spell it out for you?," Ibnor sighed. "Look, I'm the King of Dawnstar. I also lead the Thieves Guild. Those are distinct roles. As King, my priority is Dawnstar's welfare. But, naturally, my personal connections within the Guild influence how I see things, how I operate. It's about balance."
"I'm offering talented individuals a chance to be part of something bigger, a more secure future in a unified Skyrim. The Guild is a community, an outfit, yes, but so is Dawnstar. Joining Dawnstar doesn't mean abandoning the Guild, any more than Guild membership restricts your personal pursuits. As long as your actions don't harm Dawnstar, you're free to operate."
"What I'm trying to say is, the Guild is the Guild. You can remain solely a Guild member, or you can join me, become part of a larger vision, and enjoy the benefits of both worlds. The difference is, Guild membership alone limits your potential. Serving Dawnstar, alongside your Guild ties, expands it."
"Your concerns about conflict of interest are valid. But I am currently both King of Dawnstar and Guild Master, that should create safeguards. If, for some reason, I were to step down from either position, the separation prevents one from collapsing into the other. It's a far more robust system than mere cooperation or absorption."
"So, what say you?" Ibnor asked.
There was a brief silence while they were considering his offer. Brynjolf, his brow furrowed, leaned forward, his gaze fixed on Ibnor. Delvin Mallory, ever the pragmatist, drummed his fingers impatiently on the table, while Karliah remained enigmatic, her eyes narrowed in contemplation. Vex, true to form, shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her hand hovering near the hilt of her dagger.
"Lad, you've always been a straight shooter, and I respect that. This... this is a bold move. I can see the potential, the 'best of both worlds' as you put it. But the Guild's always been about independence. We value our freedom. That being said, your track record speaks for itself. You've proven you're not one to betray trust. I'd say, let's hear you out. Show us how this 'dual loyalty' works in practice. We're not ones to close doors on opportunity." Brynjolf finally spoke up.
"King, huh? You've certainly climbed high. Look, I'm a pragmatist. If there's coin to be made, and if it benefits the Guild, I'm listening. You're saying we can keep our... 'side hustles' while being part of this Dawnstar thing? And that it expands our options? That's interesting. But, and there's always a 'but,' how do we know this isn't some long con? How do we know you won't change the rules later? You've been good to us, but this is a big ask. Show us the money, and show us it's a long term benefit, and we will consider it." Delvin added.
"Ibnor, your vision is ambitious, and I understand your desire to unify Skyrim. The Guild has always been a place of shadows, but your offer suggests a way to bring those shadows into the light, to use our skills for a greater purpose. The risk of conflict is there, but your clear separation of roles is a wise precaution. I am more concerned with the larger picture. If your intentions are pure, and I believe they are, then perhaps this could be a new era for us all. I am willing to observe, and aid where I can." Karliah said, concerned with the long-term implications and the potential for good.
"Alright, Guild Master. So you want us to be agents, basically? I'm not gonna lie, it sounds complicated. But you've proven you can handle tricky situations. And if you're offering more opportunities, and more coin, I'm listening. I'm still not sold on the whole 'greater good' thing, but if it means more jobs, and more ways to make a profit, then I'm willing to see where this goes. Just don't expect me to wear a fancy uniform anytime soon." Vex said, being direct as her usual self.
"I understand your concerns," Ibnor began, his voice calm and measured. "Trust is paramount, I know. But I assure you, this is not a ploy to undermine the Guild. I value your independence, your skills, your very essence. Dawnstar needs that. Skyrim needs it."
He paused, allowing his words to sink in.
"I'm not asking you to abandon who you are. You remain Thieves Guild members, bound by your own code. But think of it as... expanding your horizons. The Guild thrives on information, on knowing the underbelly of Skyrim. Dawnstar, with its strategic location and my resources, can amplify that. We can gather intelligence, disrupt our enemies, and ensure Skyrim's future is secure."
"And how, exactly, does this benefit us? Beyond coin, I mean. What's in it for the Guild?" Brynjolf, ever the voice of reason, spoke up.
"Think of it as an investment. Dawnstar prospers, Skyrim is unified, stability returns. That means less risk for our operations, more opportunities for our members, and a stronger Guild overall. We become an integral part of a thriving Skyrim, not just a shadowy organization lurking in the corners." Ibnor smiled, a glint of steel in his eyes.
"This is a gamble, Ibnor. One wrong move, and it could all come crashing down." Karliah, in her whisper like raspy voice, echoed Brynjolf's sentiment.
"I agree," Ibnor replied, his gaze unwavering. "But isn't that what we do? We take risks, we weigh the odds, and we make choices. I'm not asking you to blindly follow. I'm offering a partnership, a chance to shape the future of Skyrim together. A chance to prove that even in the shadows, we can be a force for good."
"Good, bad, or indifferent, it sounds like there's coin to be made. And if there's coin to be made, then I'm in." Delvin Mallory, ever the opportunist, finally broke his silence.
"Alright, alright. I'm in too. But if this blows up in our faces, I'm blaming you." Vex, seeing the tide turning, shrugged.
"Very well, lad. We'll play your game. But if you cross us, if you betray the Guild, you'll regret it." Brynjolf, seeing the consensus forming, nodded.
"You have my word. We will work together, for the betterment of Skyrim." Ibnor bowed his head, a sincere expression on his face.
And so, the unlikely alliance was formed. The agreement was sealed with a series of firm handshakes and a shared look of understanding. The Spectres were born, a shadow cast by both the crown of Dawnstar and the crossed keys of the Thieves Guild, their influence already stretching into the unseen corners of Skyrim.
From the clandestine meeting in the woods, Ibnor returned to Dawnstar, stepping back into the light of his public role. The duality of his role was a constant tightrope walk. One morning, the crisp sea air stung his face as he walked along Dawnstar's harbor, the cries of gulls echoing against the creaking masts of fishing boats. It was a brief respite, a moment of normalcy before the day's demands pulled him back into the world of kings and spies. He could almost pretend, just for a few precious minutes, that he was simply Ibnor, a man enjoying the familiar rhythm of his city.
But the illusion shattered as he returned to the keep. The heavy oak doors, emblazoned with the newly forged royal crest, swung open, revealing the bustling activity within. Brina, her brow furrowed in concentration, stood over a table covered in maps and reports detailing troop movements near the Pale Pass. Illia, her voice calm and measured, was mediating a heated discussion between two merchants arguing over trade routes for magically enhanced textiles.
The air was thick with the scent of ink and parchment, a smell that had become all too familiar to Ibnor. He took his seat at the head of the table, the weight of the crown—both literal and figurative—pressing down on him. Illia presented him with a summary of the latest reports from the Spectres, coded messages detailing movements of Thalmor agents near the borders of Skyrim.
Then, Brina presented him with a stack of petitions from local farmers requesting adjustments to the magically powered irrigation systems, complaints about uneven distribution of magical energy, and requests for repairs to the magically enhanced greenhouses.
"For the love of Gods," he muttered, pushing a parchment covered in complex diagrams of magical conduits away from him, "is there no end to this scribbling? Can't these matters be settled with a simple conversation?"
"If only it were that simple, Your Majesty. These agreements require meticulous documentation to ensure fair trade and prevent future disputes. Especially now, with the increased demand for Dawnstar's magical technologies from across Skyrim." Brina, ever the pragmatic one, offered a dry chuckle.
"And these reports on the distribution of magical energy to the outer districts are crucial for ensuring equitable access for all citizens, Sire. A single disruption could cause widespread unrest." Illia, more inclined towards diplomacy, gently added.
They were accustomed to his disdain for paperwork, and patiently explained the intricacies of each document, often translating the dense legal jargon into plainspoken terms. It was a tedious process, but one that Ibnor knew was essential for the smooth functioning of his kingdom, a kingdom now built on the foundation of magic and intrigue.
One evening, after a particularly taxing day spent navigating the intricacies of Dawnstar's rapidly evolving infrastructure, Ibnor sought refuge in his private chambers.
The air within was comfortably warm, a gentle hum emanating from the magically regulated heating coils embedded beneath the polished stone floor. It was a result of the technological advancements that now permeated every aspect of life in Dawnstar, a stark contrast to the drafty, fire-dependent heating of previous years.
Harin awaited him, having prepared a simple but welcome meal of roasted fish and root vegetables, the produce remarkably fresh thanks to the magically maintained greenhouses that now supplied the city year-round. As Ibnor entered, Harin turned, a look of concern etched on her face.
"You look weary," she observed.
Ibnor sighed, sinking into a plush chair near the hearth.
"Weary is an understatement. I swear, if I have to decipher one more report on the equitable distribution of magical energy to the outer districts, I'll burn the entire pile to ashes." He rubbed his temples, a frown creasing his brow.
"It's not just the sheer volume of paperwork, Harin. It's the nature of it. Every decision now has these… magical implications. Illia was just explaining the latest trade agreements with East Empire Company for specialized magical components, then Brina cornered me about the ethical implications of automating the fishing industry. It never ends."
Harin chuckled, placing a steaming plate before Ibnor.
"Well, at least you won't have to worry about setting the place on fire," she quipped, gesturing to the hearth where the flames burned steadily, magically contained within their designated space. "And the vegetables are as fresh as a spring morning, even in the heart of winter."
Ibnor managed a weak smile, taking Harin's hand.
"You always have a way of putting things in perspective," he murmured, squeezing her hand gently. "It's a strange paradox, isn't it? We wield this incredible power, this magic that makes life easier in so many ways, yet it brings its own unique set of burdens."
"But it also brings us more time together," Harin pointed out, a warmth in her eyes. "Time we wouldn't have had before, when you were constantly preoccupied with the more… mundane concerns of running a city."
"You're right," he conceded, a thoughtful look replacing his earlier frustration. "There is that. And for that, I am truly grateful."
As they shared their meal in the warm, magically enhanced atmosphere of their chambers, Ibnor felt a sense of calm wash over him. The complexities of his new role as king, navigating the uncharted waters of a magically advanced society, were undeniable. But he also knew he had allies, both within his court and in his personal life, to help him bear the weight of his crown.
The flickering light of the magically contained hearth danced in Harin's eyes, drawing Ibnor's gaze. He reached out, his fingers tracing the line of Harin's jaw before cupping her cheek. Harin leaned into the touch, her own hand rising to meet Ibnor's.
Their lips met in a slow, tender kiss, a shared breath in the quiet sanctuary of their chambers, a moment of solace amidst the pressures of the crown. The kiss deepened, becoming more insistent, a silent promise of the intimacy to come. As they drew apart, Ibnor took Harin's hand and led her towards the bedchamber, the warmth of the hearth following them like a silent blessing.
The warmth of the hearth bathed the room in a soft glow, its light casting shifting patterns across the walls. Harin's fingers entwined with Ibnor's as they stepped into the bedchamber, the heavy curtains muffling the world beyond. The weight of their titles, their duties, fell away in the intimate hush of the moment.
Ibnor turned to Harin, his hands resting on her waist, drawing her closer until there was no space left between them. His lips found hers again, slower this time, savoring every sensation. Harin's hands traced the breadth of his shoulders, her touch both tender and searching, as though memorizing the contours of the man who had captured her heart.
Their breaths mingled, a quiet symphony of shared longing, as Ibnor's fingers moved to the delicate ties of her gown. Harin's heartbeat quickened as the fabric slipped from her shoulders, pooling silently at her feet. She stepped forward, her hands finding the fastenings of Ibnor's tunic, her touch steady despite the storm of emotions that surged within her.
As their barriers fell away, they stood before each other, exposed yet unguarded. Ibnor cupped Harin's face once more, his thumb brushing over her cheekbone as his gaze held hers, filled with an unspoken reverence.
"Always," he murmured, a single word, a vow.
The firelight flickered, casting long, dancing shadows that painted the room in hues of warm amber as Harin, her gaze a soft invitation, guided Ibnor to the waiting bed. Their lips met, a tender kiss that deepened with each passing moment, a silent dialogue of yearning and affection.
Harin's hands cradled his face, her touch feather-light, sending shivers down his spine. He lifted her, their bodies aligning with a practiced grace, and she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him close until there was no space left between them.
Together, they sank onto the soft sheets, the world outside fading away. Ibnor's hand traced the delicate curve of her waist, then found its way to Harin's chest. His touch, purposely grazing the peak, elicited a soft moan from her lips.
He pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck, his hand then tracing a slow path to her entrance. A soft hiss escaped her lips as his fingers explored her depth, the lingering dampness a welcoming warmth. She urged him closer, her breath warm and fragrant against his skin, her eyes filled with unspoken desires.
"Ibnor," she whimpered, her voice husky. "Now."
He obeyed, a willing thrall to her desire, and entered her. Their bodies joined, a slow, deliberate merging of flesh and spirit, a dance as old as time. Harin's pleasure was evident in the soft sighs that escaped her lips, in the gentle arch of her back as she moved beneath him.
Ibnor clasped her hand, their fingers intertwining, a physical manifestation of their deep connection. Harin's moans echoed softly in the quiet room, each sound accompanying his measured rhythm.
As he released himself within her, she locked her leg behind him, an unspoken plea in the tightening of her grasp.
"Yes," she whispered, a moment of profound closeness.
Exhausted but content, Ibnor fell beside her, his chest rising and falling with his breath. Harin, her emerald eyes sparkling with playful intent, straddled him. Biting her lip, she took his hands and placed them upon her ample bosom, inviting his touch.
"Round two," she murmured, her voice husky with affection. "You're not getting away that easily."