skyrimkinkmeme | Meme Announcements!

Meme Announcements!

ANNOUNCEMENTS: UPDATED 12/16/2017

Happy Holidays, fellow Kinkmemers! I have returned and have no reasonable excuse for my absence except LIFE. I will be working on updating the archives. If anyone sees anything amiss, please let me know.

I am also hoping to find another Mod and an Archivist.

The more dedicated people we have in this Meme the less chance of it dying. I admit that being the sole keeper of the Meme is not great for the fandom. If something were to happen to me, for good, this place would go the way of the Fallout Kink Meme. Let's not let that happen! If anyone would be interested in Modding/Archiving, please drop me a line. Thanks! <3

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

...that should have said Dunmer, not Bunmer. Now there's some odd mental images.

Yowch. Broken leg + rutted road does not sound fun. Ulfric's pretty serious about that whole no-healing-magic thing (risking permanent lameness, even!). Your Galmar is very Galmar and bonus Ralof is love.

Looking forward to more of this. I have a feeling Ulfric is not going to to take very well to sitting around waiting for his leg to heal, he seems like the type to go a bit stir-crazy.

Seconded. So very seconded. If I don't fill this myself; I might just.

Seconded. Actually, I must admit I'm really tempted to try and fill this myself (no promises, but I'll do my best).
I was thinking about a rogue Breton F!DB, is that ok or would you prefer another race/class? And what about other kinks/squicks, do you have any?

Pairing: F!DB Altmer/Madanach
Summary: Liriel's killed Alduin, but the unholy mess awaiting her will take all her skills to solve. Fortunately, Madanach's feelings for anyone take years to die, and when the Dragonborn is otherwise engaged, the Forsworn are more than up to the challenge.
Kinks/warnings: Death, blood and murder!
A/N: I really liked writing this chapter. I really really did! There's a couple of violent deaths, but they're not too graphic and one will have you cheering.

Argis had ridden back to Markarth after leaving the camp, leaving Shadowmere at Markarth stables and taking Liriel's horse, a brown mare that was far less noticeable than the Dark Brotherhood's steed. He'd also packed his ebony gear away, exchanging it for simple housecarl steel. Nothing to see here, just a Nord mercenary out on a journey, certainly nothing to do with the Dragonborn, no.

He'd had no trouble – he'd outridden a few beasts and a lone thief, and he'd seen a dragon circling in the distance but other than that, nothing. Finally, he'd ridden into Whiterun, exhausted. He'd got a few hours sleep at Markarth, but other than that, it had been two days of hard riding. Good thing Nords could take a bit of discomfort really. Even half-Nords like him.

No one batted an eyelid as he strolled into Whiterun, just another Nord visiting the city. Passing for one of them, although he'd never felt like one, not since they'd brought him to Druadach and Madanach had claimed him for the Forsworn. Not that he'd ever entirely fitted in there, his Nord blood killing any ability with magic and making him tower over everyone there.

It didn't matter. He was still Argis ap Madanach, and that counted for a lot. Maybe he'd not inherited his father's magic, but he did have his father's weaponskills – and a resistance to magic. He couldn't cast worth a damn, but he could power through a barrage of magic that would have lesser mortals writhing in agony. Something to be thankful for. Not the only thing he'd inherited from his father either. Argis' personality tended towards the quiet and calm, like his level-headed mother, but when he had to, he was more than capable of turning on the charm. Just like his charismatic warlord father. Which is why he stopped to chat with Adrianne Avenicci and soon had her eating out of his hand.

“So they tell me the famous Dragonborn lives here,” said Argis casually. “What's she like? I heard she can shout a dragon out of the sky and make the weather do what it's told.”

“I don't know about that, but she's a very powerful mage,” Adrianne replied, sounding impressed. “We had a vampire attack here last month – she was just leaving Breezehome when the fiends turned up. Blasted one off its feet with fireballs, and shocked its thrall to death then raised the corpse. Terrifying to watch but very impressive. A lovely person when she's not doing that though – she stops by to use our forge all the time. Not at all how you'd expect an Altmer to be. Down to earth, you know? Doesn't act like she's some sort of Elven princess.”

“A rare sight indeed,” Argis laughed. “Honestly, I don't know what to find more incredible, the stories of the Thu'um or an Altmer who doesn't treat the rest of us like dirt. She in the city at the moment? I'm feeling the urge to see if that's really true. Also if she's as pretty as they claim. They say she's single.”

“She's stunning,” Adrianne told him. “But she's never shown the slightest bit of romantic interest in anyone, man, woman or mer. She's devoted to her children – adopted of course. I think you may be out of luck. That's if she was actually in the city. You'll never believe this, but she trapped a dragon in Dragonsreach and flew off on it! That was two days ago. No one's seen her since. Her little girls are so proud, but they miss her too. Especially little Lucia. You want Dragonborn stories, talk to her, she memorises all of them. She's usually playing by the Gildergreen with her sister, but I've not seen her today. Hope she's not ill...”

Argis had ridden back to Markarth after leaving the camp, leaving Shadowmere at Markarth stables and taking Liriel's horse, a brown mare that was far less noticeable than the Dark Brotherhood's steed. He'd also packed his ebony gear away, exchanging it for simple housecarl steel. Nothing to see here, just a Nord mercenary out on a journey, certainly nothing to do with the Dragonborn, no.

He'd had no trouble – he'd outridden a few beasts and a lone thief, and he'd seen a dragon circling in the distance but other than that, nothing. Finally, he'd ridden into Whiterun, exhausted. He'd got a few hours sleep at Markarth, but other than that, it had been two days of hard riding. Good thing Nords could take a bit of discomfort really. Even half-Nords like him.

No one batted an eyelid as he strolled into Whiterun, just another Nord visiting the city. Passing for one of them, although he'd never felt like one, not since they'd brought him to Druadach and Madanach had claimed him for the Forsworn. Not that he'd ever entirely fitted in there, his Nord blood killing any ability with magic and making him tower over everyone there.

It didn't matter. He was still Argis ap Madanach, and that counted for a lot. Maybe he'd not inherited his father's magic, but he did have his father's weaponskills – and a resistance to magic. He couldn't cast worth a damn, but he could power through a barrage of magic that would have lesser mortals writhing in agony. Something to be thankful for. Not the only thing he'd inherited from his father either. Argis' personality tended towards the quiet and calm, like his level-headed mother, but when he had to, he was more than capable of turning on the charm. Just like his charismatic warlord father. Which is why he stopped to chat with Adrianne Avenicci and soon had her eating out of his hand.

“So they tell me the famous Dragonborn lives here,” said Argis casually. “What's she like? I heard she can shout a dragon out of the sky and make the weather do what it's told.”

“I don't know about that, but she's a very powerful mage,” Adrianne replied, sounding impressed. “We had a vampire attack here last month – she was just leaving Breezehome when the fiends turned up. Blasted one off its feet with fireballs, and shocked its thrall to death then raised the corpse. Terrifying to watch but very impressive. A lovely person when she's not doing that though – she stops by to use our forge all the time. Not at all how you'd expect an Altmer to be. Down to earth, you know? Doesn't act like she's some sort of Elven princess.”

“A rare sight indeed,” Argis laughed. “Honestly, I don't know what to find more incredible, the stories of the Thu'um or an Altmer who doesn't treat the rest of us like dirt. She in the city at the moment? I'm feeling the urge to see if that's really true. Also if she's as pretty as they claim. They say she's single.”

“She's stunning,” Adrianne told him. “But she's never shown the slightest bit of romantic interest in anyone, man, woman or mer. She's devoted to her children – adopted of course. I think you may be out of luck. That's if she was actually in the city. You'll never believe this, but she trapped a dragon in Dragonsreach and flew off on it! That was two days ago. No one's seen her since. Her little girls are so proud, but they miss her too. Especially little Lucia. You want Dragonborn stories, talk to her, she memorises all of them. She's usually playing by the Gildergreen with her sister, but I've not seen her today. Hope she's not ill...”

Argis hoped not too, it made it harder to keep an eye on them if they never went outside. He knew which house Breezehome was though – Liriel had told him it was the one next to Warmaiden's. Maybe he should call on his Whiterun counterpart, Lydia, see if she needed help or had noticed anything odd lately.

The first sign of trouble was the open door – barely noticeable, but ajar and unlocked and if no one had seen the girls all day... Argis drew his sword, pushing the door open.

Argis hoped not too, it made it harder to keep an eye on them if they never went outside. He knew which house Breezehome was though – Liriel had told him it was the one next to Warmaiden's. Maybe he should call on his Whiterun counterpart, Lydia, see if she needed help or had noticed anything odd lately.

The first sign of trouble was the open door – barely noticeable, but ajar and unlocked and if no one had seen the girls all day... Argis drew his sword, pushing the door open.

The house was quiet, seemingly in good order, but there were a few things lying on the floor and that was wrong, Liriel was a neat freak to the core, she wouldn't leave things lying around. Then Argis saw the blood dripping down the stairs, pooling on the stone floor as it fell through the cracks in the ceiling.

“No,” Argis breathed. Madanach had been right to fear for the kids, it seemed. The blood proved to belong to a dead Nord, in steel armour like his own, dark haired, pretty – when she'd been alive anyway. She'd been cut down on the top landing, clearly on her way to intercept the intruders that had killed her.

Argis backed away. Nothing he could do for her now. He retreated downstairs to check the room under the stairs. It proved to be the children's bedroom, and while the bedding was all over the place and some rather nice Elven daggers were abandoned on the floor, lying in a blood spatter that seemed to indicate someone had got a blow in, there was no sign of either child. Someone had broken into Liriel's house, killed her housecarl and taken her children. Why? This was no robbery gone wrong. This was a calculated strike at the Dragonborn. Question was, who was behind it? Stormcloaks maybe? Didn't seem like their style though, and Argis doubted they'd have the skills to pull this off. Thalmor? Perhaps, but abducting children was a bit much even for them.

There was a note lying on the table. Argis picked it up, read and promptly swore viciously.

“Stormcloak bitch,

For giving our country to the Bear, we have taken your children in recompense. If you wish them to live, come alone to the usual place. Your life for theirs, whore of Ulfric.

Don't even think of asking your Brothers and Sisters in black for help either. We are a match for them.

In the name of Madanach, King in Rags”

When he found whoever did this, Argis would make it so their own mothers wouldn't recognise them. Taking her children and then attempting to frame the Forsworn? Who hated her that much, and who gained from setting her and the Forsworn at each other's throats? Argis had no idea, but he knew what he did need to do. Madanach needed to know and fast.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three days. Three days since she'd flown to Skuldafn. Three days since carving through the Draugr and dealing with dragons. Since coming to Sovngarde. It wasn't at all like she'd expected. Beautiful and peaceful and not at all like she'd expected an afterlife for Nord warriors to look. Well, peaceful if it weren't for Alduin anyway.

She'd killed Alduin on the steps of Shor's Hall and watched as he'd died in a blaze of black and orange, Tsun and the Tongues of old singing her praises as a hero. Gratifying but there was only one Nord she wanted to see while she was here.

Liriel finally found her in a quiet corner of the Hall, dressed simply in fur armour, simple steel sword at her side and hunting bow at her back, sitting at a table on her own with a tankard of mead in her hand.

“Inga Fair-Shot?” Liriel asked. Inga looked up, startled and went scarlet to see the Dragonborn herself there in her black and red armour.

“Oh! Er, yes, yes, that's me, but are you sure it's me you want, ma'am? There must be a hundred heroes in here. I'm just a simple hunter. I'd be out in the woods right now if Alduin weren't abroad. But if you're here...”

“I killed Alduin, you can get back out there whenever you like,” said Liriel gently, taking the chair opposite. “I just wanted to make sure you were all right. Argis was worried about you.”

Inga's face lit up at the mention of his name. “Argis! You know him? You know my boy? Except he must be a man now, mustn't he? How old is he? Is he married? Children? Is he... is he a good man? Did he ever find out...?”

“Thirty five and single,” Liriel told her. “And yes, yes he did. Madanach's people got him out of Markarth and to one of the camps. He's Madanach's acknowledged son and a Forsworn agent... and my housecarl. And he's a good man. You'd be proud of him.”

Inga had placed a hand to her mouth, tears in her eyes. “Forsworn agent... by the Nine. I didn't... I wanted to keep him away from all that! Damn Madanach!”

“Argis made his own choices in the end,” said Liriel quietly, still feeling protective of Madanach despite everything. “Don't blame Madanach for all of it. He took good care of your son after you died, and Argis adores him.”

“If it hadn't been for Madanach, I might not have died in the first place,” Inga replied, scowling. “All the same... he's a good man even if he does care more about the Reach than he does about the people that live in it.”

Liriel considered arguing the point then decided it wasn't entirely unfair commentary.

“He grieved when you died, you know,” Liriel said softly. “I think he may have loved you.”

Inga looked away, closing her eyes. “I know,” she whispered. “He could never say it in life, and I'll never see him in death to hear it, I know that. Tell the stubborn son of a bitch I'll never forget him and I hope he's happy.” She glanced up, something occurring to her. “Is he happy? I take it he's no nearer to getting his throne back.”

“He was happy,” Liriel whispered. “Then I traded his country to the Stormcloaks to come here and broke his heart.”

She looked away, feeling her throat close and everything go blurry as tears started to fall. Then strong Nord arms were around her and Inga was holding her tight.

“You're his lover, aren't you? Oh sweetheart, I should have guessed. Of course he wanted you, you're beautiful and dangerous and the bloody Dragonborn, he couldn't have resisted you. Oh honey, don't cry, please, he'll come back to you. You just killed Alduin the World-Eater!”

“He doesn't care about that!” Liriel sobbed. “He didn't even know who Alduin was until I told him!”

“More fool him,” Inga soothed. “You are a hero, Dragonborn. They will sing your praises all over Skyrim for this, and when Madanach hears it, he will regret sending you away. Maybe he already does.”

“He won't change his mind,” Liriel whispered. “Not unless I get him his throne back and I've got no idea how.”

Inga didn't speak for a moment, but when she did, it was with absolute certitude in her voice.

“You are a doom-driven hero, a walking legend, blessed by Akatosh himself. You have slain the Great Wyrm, and to do it you had to find and read an Elder Scroll and call a truce in a bitter war. If anyone can help the Forsworn, it is you, Liriel Dragonborn.”

Liriel didn't for the life of her see how, but she was glad someone had faith in her. Resting her head on Inga's shoulder, she let herself be comforted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was some time later when Liriel finally said goodbye to Inga and left for home. She was no Nord and only a hero on a technicality. Maybe she'd saved the world, but saviour wasn't who she was. Mage, warrior, murderer, thief. Mother. Lover (except not any more, oh gods, Madanach, please). Friend and ally. All those, maybe. But hero? Hardly. Sovngarde was no place for a Listener.

So here she was, heading for the door. With Alduin gone, there was a steady influx of new arrivals who'd been hiding out in the mists and only now were finding their way in. Liriel stood on the steps, watching them make their way across the whalebone bridge. War dead in Stormcloak or Legion uniforms, mostly. But there was one in steel armour, a dark haired woman, who looked familiar. She looked calm, if sad, as she stepped off the bridge, but that changed when she saw Liriel.

“Lydia,” Liriel breathed. “How – by the Eight, Lydia!” She sprinted forward to where Lydia was standing, hands to her mouth, tears rolling down her cheeks and glowing like they all did in Sovngarde – a soul, not a body any more.

“Liriel,” Lydia gasped. “My Thane, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I couldn't stop them, I'm sorry!”

“Stop who?” Liriel cried as Lydia ran into her arms, shaking all over. “Lydia, what happened, who did this, oh gods, if you're here, where are my children??” Her babies, her little girls, Lydia would never have let anything happen to them, she'd have died to protect them. She clearly had done.

“I don't know,” Lydia whispered. “But they came in the night, broke in somehow, crept into the house. They took the girls, I tried to stop them, but there was a mage and a big Nord warrior – they were too strong! My Thane, I failed you, I'm so sorry...”

“Who were they?” Liriel whispered, fighting to breathe. “Who took my babies??”

“I didn't see their faces,” Lydia said, guilt still radiating off her. “But I knew the armour.” She let go of Liriel, tracing a finger along Liriel's arm, looking shrewdly at Liriel's ancient Shrouded Armour. “They were dressed the same way you are.”

Liriel felt the panic fade away, a sense of deep calm settling over her, a sense of calm akin to that felt before a storm broke or before a major battle. A sense of calm Liriel usually only felt when getting ready to fight.

Astrid took my babies. Sisterhood be damned. I will kill the bitch for this.

“Thank you,” Liriel whispered, clasping her ex-housecarl by the shoulders. “Thank you for telling me. Thank you for protecting my girls. I will never forget you.”

“You're not angry?” Lydia breathed, relief flickering in her eyes.

“Yes,” said Liriel, amazed at how calm she was actually feeling. “Oh Akatosh, yes. But not at you. I will find them and I will see you avenged, Lydia, I swear it.”

Lydia did smile at that, a fierce grin of delight. “Go, my Thane. Go get your children, Dragonborn. Show the sons of bitches what an angry dragon looks like!”

Liriel hugged Lydia farewell, grieved at this final goodbye, but knowing Lydia would be all right here. She had two little girls to rescue, and then... then it was time to teach Astrid the error of her ways.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Argis raced into Druadach Redoubt, note clutched in his fist. Still weird being here and getting the stares now – even weirder when the sentries on duty saluted and called him sir. Argis really didn't think of himself as a sir. Argis was just a soldier at the end of the day. Except he'd had the bad luck to have been fathered by the leader of the Forsworn and now they all knew it. It was a little disconcerting, to put it mildly.

Said Forsworn father was on the top level, reading a letter and having an in-depth conversation with Odvan.

“And it was definitely one of them you saw meeting with him?” Madanach pressed, glancing up from the letter. Since the High Hrothgar Accord, Madanach's intelligence-gathering efforts had focused on Solitude, in an attempt to get word on just how long the Empire planned to let the Silver-Blood occupation continue.

“That's right,” Odvan confirmed. “She was wearing the armour and everything. Blonde Nord, nice voice, very pretty. Er. If you like that sort of thing. Which I don't, obviously,” said Odvan hastily. “True-born Reachwomen for me all the way, sir.”

Madanach actually smiled at that. “Can't really judge you on that one any more, lad. But if that woman was who I think it was, you're best off avoiding her. Did you hear any of the conversation?”

“No, but when she left, Maro went inside and wrote this. Addressed to the Emperor himself. What do you think, sir? Worth knowing?”

“Very,” Madanach murmured, looking concerned. “I can't say I'm surprised at her treachery, but that she'd go that far... Odvan, I need you to get back to Dragon Bridge Overlook. I'll give you some orders to take with you, but the gist of it is I want eyes on that south road at all times. Any army wagons seen moving over the Dragon Bridge, I want them intercepted and destroyed. I'll have a second ambush put in near Lost Valley Redoubt, and you'll have help from Broken Tower too. Then you're going to go incognito to Solitude. I'm going to need you to alert our eyes in that city – Argis, I distinctly recall sending you to Whiterun with an important mission of protection, why in the name of Sithis are you here?”

“I was too late,” said Argis grimly. “Someone else had got there first, killed her housecarl, taken her kids. They left this.” He handed the note to Madanach, who'd stared in horror as Argis had spoken. His expression turned from horror to rage as he read the note.

“I gave no such order!” he roared. “Treacherous, backstabbing... what is she playing at??”

“Who?” Argis asked. It was almost as if Madanach knew who'd taken them.

Madanach raised both letters. “Astrid,” he said tersely. “First she goes to the leader of the Penitus Oculatus saying she can deliver his son's murderer to him, now she takes Liriel's children hostage and tries to pin it on me. And writes in the letter for Liriel not to even think about turning to the Brotherhood for help, thereby cleverly ensuring that's the first thing she'll think of doing, were she to believe such an obvious forgery, of course.”

“So what do we do?” Argis asked, wondering if Madanach even planned to do anything – well, of course he did, he clearly wasn't ordering the Forsworn to stake out the road between Dragon Bridge and Lost Valley for no reason. “We don't even know where their Sanctuary is, and even if we could find it, going in all spells blazing is a great way to get the hostages killed.” That was right, keep this professional, think of them as hostages, not two frightened little girls who might even already be dead (but no, Astrid hadn't left bodies, she wanted a hold over Liriel, she'd keep the girls alive).

Madanach glanced beyond Argis, and Argis turned to follow his gaze to where Cicero had just pranced in, a brace of dead rabbits in his hands and babbling that they'd eat well tonight.

“One of us knows where it is,” Madanach said, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “And as for the hostage retrieval, I find this sort of negotiation always goes better when you have something the other side actually wants...”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back in Tamriel, and Liriel had raced back to Whiterun to have her worst fears confirmed – her house broken into, her children missing, her housecarl murdered, and the guards very interested in speaking to a Nord warrior in his thirties with light brown hair and one eye blind who'd apparently found the door ajar, gone in and come rushing out again, fleeing the city.

Argis. He'd been here, presumably to keep an eye on Breezehome, although she'd not asked him to. Which begged the question, had he turned up on a whim or had someone else asked him to come here? Had Madanach had a change of heart?

She didn't know and didn't want to take the risk of looking like a fool when the answer turned out to be no. But she'd left for the Reach anyway. She needed help and there weren't many she could trust with her Dark Brotherhood links.

Argis hadn't been at Vlindrel – concerning but strengthening the possibility of Madanach taking an interest. No sign of Cicero either – not that she expected to ever lay eyes on him again, but part of her had hoped to find him here. Fortunately, neither man had been her reason for coming here.

“Wake up,” Liriel gasped, shaking Eola's shoulder.

“Wha- gerroff, Ma,” Eola snapped, brushing Liriel away as she turned over in her bedroll, positioned in the corner of the main chamber at Reachcliff Cave. “I'm not marrying him, don't care how nice he is.”

“Eola!” Liriel cried. “I need your help, wake up!”

Eola's eyes flicked open and she looked up at Liriel, confused. “Wha- oh, hey! Liriel, sweetie, how've you been? They said at Old Hroldan inn you'd last been seen flying away on a big red dragon.”

Trust everyone to fixate on the damn dragons.

“Yes, I did, and yes, I killed Alduin the World-Eater, but that's not important!” Liriel cried. “Eola, Madanach broke up with me for giving the Reach to the Stormcloaks. And now Astrid of the Dark Brotherhood has taken my kids and killed my housecarl!”

“You split up?” Eola gasped. “Oh honey, I'm so sorry. And... wait. Astrid of the Dark Brotherhood. Your boss... has taken your kids. Why?”

“My boss is the Night Mother, and Astrid can't accept that,” said Liriel, fingering Dawnbreaker. “So she's trying to mess with my head. By taking my children!”

“You're not going to stand for that, I trust,” Eola purred, crawling out of bed and reaching for the Shrouded Armour Liriel had given her. “Need a hand retrieving them?”

“Yes,” said Liriel, relieved beyond the telling of it that Eola was good for pretty much anything, no matter how nefarious. “Yes, please, I'm sorry but you're the only one I can trust...”

“Say no more,” said Eola as she pulled on her Shrouded gear. “Let's go hunt some assassins.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Quiet at Falkreath Sanctuary. Too quiet. Liriel glanced about, having the strange sensation of being watched. Eola padded behind, face hidden behind Shrouded Cowl, also looking uneasy.

“Think she's expecting us?” Liriel murmured.

“Eventually, yes,” Eola whispered back. “But here, now? I don't know. I think she'll be expecting you to come alone.”

Only a fool came without back-up. Liriel looked about, wishing she could hear more wildlife around. There'd been some bird calls, a bit of scurrying, but otherwise very little. Like the forest was holding its breath.

Liriel let out her own and made her way to the Black Door, whispering the passphrase and beckoning Eola to follow her. They both crept inside.

Astrid wasn't at her usual desk, and no sign of Arnbjorn either. There were however voices coming from the main hallway. Voices she recognised and one she'd never have thought to hear in this place.

“That's a most intriguing offer, Madanach, but what makes you think I have any interest in taking it up?” Astrid purred. “And why are you interested in Liriel's children anyway? I heard she'd given your country to the Stormcloaks. That must have stung.”

“Igmund and Thongvor have both made themselves my enemy over the years,” Madanach replied. “Jarls come and Jarls go, doesn't bother me which one I kill. But the Dragonborn – she's a once in a lifetime prize. Whoever has her children has her. Maybe I can't trust her loyalty to my cause, but I can certainly ensure her future good behaviour, don't you think?”

Liriel crept closer, Eola at her back, and judging from the little gasp as she'd heard Madanach's voice, she'd not expected him either.

Madanach was standing near the forge, Kaie on one side, Borkul on the other, Argis off to the right in his ebony gear, and a whole group of Forsworn soldiers at his back. Astrid was watching from the steps, the Dark Brotherhood surrounding her, all eyeing the Forsworn warily. The atmosphere was tense, to put it mildly.

“Good reasoning,” Astrid nodded, approving. “But it seems to be based entirely on Liriel remaining alive and free. The woman's planning to take over this Sanctuary, she's disobeyed a direct order, the proof of which you just brought me, what makes you think I want anything other than her execution?”

“Then why take the children at all?” Madanach asked. “Why not just wait until she returns?”

“Because I didn't have proof of her treachery before,” Astrid laughed. “Now we've all seen it.”

“FILTHY SLANDERER!” Cicero howled. He was kneeling at Kaie's feet, heavy iron collar around his neck and the chain in Kaie's hands. His own hands were in his lap, cuffs around the wrists. “THIEF OF THE LISTENER'S CHILDREN! YOU WILL PAY FOR YOUR CRIMES, HARLOT!”

“What did you just call my wife?” Arnbjorn growled, hefting his warhammer. Astrid smiled and placed a hand to his arm.

“Patience, husband, we'll have him at our mercy soon enough. Once his Forsworn friends hand him over. Which they will.”

“When we have Liriel's children,” said Madanach calmly. “The children for Cicero. We get leverage over Liriel, which we'll use to make sure she steers clear of you, and you get to exact justice on the gibbering lunatic. I get Liriel, you get unfettered rule of your Sanctuary, everyone's happy.”

“CICERO ISN'T HAPPY!” Cicero shouted. “CICERO WILL MURDER YOU ALL WHEN HE GETS LOOSE!”

“Shut up!” Kaie snapped, yanking on the chain. “Gods, why we didn't cut your tongue out when we had the chance, I'll never know.”

“Kaie was not objecting to Cicero's tongue earlier- ow!” Cicero yelped as Kaie hit him with a shock spell. Liriel placed a hand to her mouth. Madanach was involved all right – trying to use her brother to persuade Astrid to hand over her children so he could use them against her somehow.

Her heart broke at the mere thought, but she kept listening. Time to see how this was going to play out.

“And how can I trust you to keep your word, hmm?” Astrid asked. “How do I know you won't turn on me as soon as you have the children? You clearly know how to get in here any time you please.”

An excellent question. Liriel wondered how Madanach planned to answer it. He really didn't have any reason to keep Astrid alive, after all, and so far, the offer he'd made was weighted heavily in his favour.

“Astrid, I'm hurt,” Madanach murmured. “I'm personally wounded by the insinuation I might not be a man of my word. And after I've already been so kind as to save your Sanctuary from imminent destruction.”

Imminent... what? Liriel looked at Eola, who was clearly as confused as she was. What was he talking about?

“Refraining from attacking us yourself is not saving our Sanctuary,” Astrid said tersely. “What else have you got?”

Madanach held out a hand to Argis, who took out an official looking letter and passed it over to him.

“It so happens your last bargain didn't turn out too well either, Astrid,” said Madanach, sounding rather too cheerful for a man presently on the losing side of negotiations. “Apparently Commander Maro is even less forgiving and benevolent than I am, and decided why wait to entrap one murderer when he could descend on you all. He ordered his men here to destroy you. You're just fortunate the road from Dragon Bridge to Falkreath has half a dozen Forsworn encampments within easy reach of it. You're safe for now. But he will be back when he realises the first attack didn't work, and next time my Forsworn won't be lying in wait. Unless of course we'd had prior good relations and some sign of good faith from you that might make us change our minds...”

Astrid had gone pale, staring at Madanach in horror, and the rest of the Brotherhood didn't look too good either.

“What's he talking about, Astrid? What bargain?” Babette asked, confused.

“Astrid, do you mean to tell me you made some sort of deal with Commander Maro?” Festus demanded. “Were you trying to entrap one of us?”

“Oh, you didn't share your plans?” Madanach asked innocently. “Never mind, I've got the proof right here, Imperial seal and everything.” He held the letter out, and it was Veezara who took it off him, reading it and hissing in fury.

“Veezara, what is it?” Gabriella asked, taking the letter and swearing in Dunmeri at its contents. Babette was next, then Festus and Nazir, all appalled by what they read there.

“Our Emperor contract!” Festus cried. “Only the biggest job we've had in centuries, and you spilled the beans to Maro??”

“Think of the gold! The glory! You threw it away, why!” Veezara had turned on Astrid, enraged, and the others were doing likewise. Only Arnbjorn still stayed by her side, and even he looked confused.

“Now, now wait, I can explain!” Astrid cried, raising her hands as she backed away. “This whole job, it's ridiculous, a set up from the start, Liriel's leading us on, there's no real contract!”

“Motierre seemed pretty genuine to me!” Nazir snapped. “And his amulet certainly was! What in the Void have you done, Astrid?”

Liriel placed a hand to her mouth, not sure whether to be appalled or impressed. Madanach had just completely destroyed all Astrid's credibility in one stroke, leaving Falkreath Sanctuary as hers for the taking if she had a mind to. She watched as he turned to Kaie, grinning.

“I think, m'inyeen, you can let them have their Keeper back now.”

Kaie promptly let go of the chains, heavy links falling to the floor, even bigger smirk on her own face.

“Oops,” she said sweetly. “How careless of me.”

Cicero reached out, snatched his ebony dagger from Kaie's belt, sprang to his feet and virtually flew across the Sanctuary to finish what he'd started.

“DIE PRETENDER, DIE!!!!”

Before anyone could stop him, Cicero had reached Astrid and plunged his dagger into her chest, blood fountaining everywhere as he carved into her with the skill of a born murderer. Finally, Astrid's blood-soaked remains sank to the floor and Cicero skipped back to Kaie, chains jingling, blood all over him, dagger in his hand and looking utterly jubilant. Behind her, Liriel heard Eola actually whimper. Trust Eola to find that arousing.

“Did I do well, did I, did I?” Cicero cooed, prancing about in front of Kaie.

“You were marvellous, sweetie,” Kaie purred. “I'd hug you if you weren't covered in blood.”

“I don't mind blood,” Eola breathed softly, eyes locked to Cicero, as were everyone else's. Which is why no one saw Arnbjorn change into beast form until it was too late. The beast howled and leapt across the cave, claws raised and lashing out – not at Cicero, but at Madanach, who didn't get his armour cast and spells raised in time.

Claws tore at the Reach-King, and he went down in a spray of blood. Spells were already flaring at Arnbjorn and Eola had howled and broken cover, lightning blasting the werewolf back, but there were too many Forsworn in the way and Madanach was lying bleeding. Liriel had a feeling she could heal him but she'd never get there in time. Time...

“TIID KLO UL!” Everything slowed down, the entire cavern turning to look, eyes widening at one cowled assassin blasting magic back at Arnbjorn, while another darted through the crowds, apparently unaffected by time slowing down – or from their point of view, moving with terrifying speed. Liriel ripped her cowl off and fell to her knees next to Madanach. He was still alive, face screwed up in pain as he had a hand to his chest wounds, trying to stem the blood, trying vainly to cast, but his Restoration magic failing as his health did.

He looked up into her eyes, mouthing her name with the last of his strength.

“Don't you dare die on me, you stupid, stubborn, son of a bitch,” Liriel hissed, her own magic firing as Heal Other flowed from her fingers. Madanach's eyes never left her as she worked, pain fading as skin closed and hope dawned in his face. The Shout had worn off and everything was back to full speed again, and then Madanach was slowly sitting up, wincing but all right, he was going to live, and now he was casting a few healing spells of his own, sitting there in silence as the healing magic flowed round him. Liriel finally looked up, seeing everyone staring at her, Dark Brotherhood and Forsworn alike, Eola still cowled and standing over Arnbjorn's corpse while Cicero capered around her, cooing that he didn't know her, she wasn't part of Falkreath, was she new, she was clearly very talented.

“Da!” Kaie raced to Madanach's side, and Argis was there on Madanach's other side, both offering healing potions and helping him up. Liriel did likewise, not sure what to say to him. He'd just given her Falkreath Sanctuary, stitched up Astrid for her, all without any prompting from her, and he'd done it to save her children, he must have done.

“Are you all right, oh gods, you nearly died!” Kaie was sobbing, clinging on to her father, and Argis had his arms around them both, not saying anything.

“I'm fine,” said Madanach softly. He was still watching Liriel, looking more nervous than she'd ever seen him. “Thanks to the Dragon-Queen turning up when she did.”

“What were you even doing here?” Liriel whispered. “How did you even...?”

“Sent Argis to keep an eye on Whiterun while you were off dragon-slaying,” said Madanach gruffly, not meeting her eyes. “He didn't get there in time to save them, but he did bring the news to me after finding the note they left trying to frame us for it. Thought it wouldn't be a good idea to leave the Dragon-Queen's children in hostile hands, then my eyes in Solitude saw Astrid meeting with Maro.”

“What was she even planning?” Liriel asked, confused. “She hadn't really told Maro about our contract, had she?”

“It's true,” and that was Babette, standing behind her, orange eyes angrier than Liriel had ever seen them. “Read for yourself.” She passed the letter over. Liriel read it, feeling her heart start to pound.

“Eminence,

Your fears are justified – there is a plot and the Brotherhood were indeed behind it. One of their number, the woman called Astrid, just met with me and explained the whole scheme – my son, it turns out, is an innocent man, framed to make me look weak. I always knew he was innocent of course, but it is good to have this confirmed.

My son's killer is apparently coming to assassinate you and posing as the Gourmet to do it – I didn't ask what had happened to the real Gourmet, I can only speculate it wasn't pleasant. Rest assured this plot will not succeed.

Also rest assured that the Dark Brotherhood will not be allowed to carry on their murderous ways either. I have the location and passphrase for their Sanctuary, I'll have men on the way shortly to clear them out for good.

For the glory of the Empire!

Commander Tiberius Maro”

Liriel could barely breathe. Treacherous, backstabbing bitch... a contract against the Emperor and Astrid had screwed the whole thing up because of her own paranoia. Liriel was tempted to raise her corpse and kill her again but it wouldn't do any good.

“Listener?” Cicero skipped up to her side, snuggling her, worried eyes staring up at her. “Listener, we have killed the pretender Astrid for you, and Cicero just cast Detect Life – there are two signals off to the back of the Sanctuary. Would you like Cicero to go and get them for you?”

“Yes – no!” Liriel cried, realising Cicero was still covered in Astrid's blood and a singing, blood-covered jester was only going to scare two already scared children even more. “Wait here, I'll go.” Before anyone could say another word, Liriel was casting Detect Life herself, chasing through Falkreath Sanctuary after the red silhouettes in the distance.

They were penned up in the Night Mother's chapel – the door was locked, but Liriel hadn't spent all that time training with Vex for nothing. A minute later and the door was open. Sissel and Lucia were sitting huddled against the wall, tearstains on their cheeks, pale, frightened but alive, alive and healthy, gloriously alive.

“MAMA!” Lucia cried, nudging her sister awake. Sissel's eyes opened and she sat up, barely able to believe her mother had arrived. Liriel couldn't even speak. She ran over to them, sweeping them into her arms, holding them tight, kissing first one then the other, only able to listen as Sissel burst into tears, saying how the scary people in black had killed Lydia while Lucia held her and kept whispering she knew she'd save them, she knew it.

“You found them,” Liriel heard Eola say as she padded silently into the room, cowl off now no one was about. “Thank Namira. How are they both?”

Sissel perked up as she heard Eola's voice. “Eola!” she squealed, remembering her from when she'd stayed at Breezehome before heading off with Liriel to read the Elder Scroll. Eola had kept both girls entertained with stories and magic lessons and declared afterwards they were adorable.

“Hey sweetie,” Eola laughed, cuddling Sissel as she detached herself from Liriel. “Good to see you again, we were worried. Your ma was beside herself.”

Sissel looked over at Liriel, clearly wondering what sort of magic could make Liriel be in two places at once.

“Means I was very upset,” said Liriel gently. “But I found you, so it's all right and we can all go home.” Except Lydia was gone and after seeing the bloodstains, Liriel didn't think Breezehome could ever be home again. Just left Vlindrel Hall, and Liriel wasn't sure how Argis would feel about childcare.

Coincidentally, the man himself chose that moment to put in an appearance.

“Liriel? Did you find them?” He stopped on seeing Eola, frowning at her. “Hey, who are you? You're a Reach girl, aren't you?”

“What's it to you?” Eola hissed, grabbing her cowl. “Yeah, I'm a Reachwoman, so what? Got a problem, Nord-boy?”

“Half-Nord,” said Argis quickly. “I didn't mean – you just remind me of someone, that's all. Got a name?”

“Argis, Eola's a friend, you can trust her,” Liriel began, only for Argis' eyebrows to rise up and Eola to glare at her.

“Eola, is it? Well, there's a few Eolas in the Reach, I suppose,” said Argis, now very curious. “Eola ap what? You got family?”

“None I care to speak of to you,” Eola snapped. “So you can turn right around and forget you saw me, Argis Half-Nordic.”

“Eola!” Liriel cried, wondering what on earth had got into the girl. “Argis is my housecarl. Could you possibly be a little polite? Listen, Argis, you can't tell anyone in the Forsworn who Eola is. She ran away and doesn't want them to find her. She's scared of what they'll do to a deserter.”

Argis looked at Eola for a long moment, clearly considering something. Finally, he nodded.

“She with you, Liriel? She's wearing Shrouds, if she's a Dark Sister, no Forsworn will touch her. It's a holy calling, serving Sithis.”

“Yes,” said Liriel, taking Eola's hand, not even thinking twice. “Yes, she's with me. She's under my protection.”

“Then Da will hear nothing about her from me,” Argis promised. “Did you want me to take the kids back to Vlindrel? I can travel with the Forsworn most of the way.”

Liriel nodded and tossed Argis some money, enough to get the alchemy lab replaced with a proper bedroom.

“Could you? Get the steward to fit a children's room for them, and just keep them there until I can come myself. Girls, this is Argis, my other housecarl. He's going to take you to my other house in Markarth. You should be safe there.”

“Come on kids, let's go,” said Argis cheerfully, beckoning the girls over. Liriel patted Lucia and sent her after Sissel, who'd already gone to Argis' side. Liriel waved as Argis led her girls away. She was fairly certain the Forsworn protection wouldn't stop at Markarth's city gates either.

“Did you mean it?” Eola asked softly. “Did you really just invite me to join the Dark Brotherhood?”

“Yes. I mean, yes, if you want to still,” said Liriel quietly. “I'm not even sure if I'm a member any more after all this. But I'm still Listener and I've got the Night Mother, her Keeper and the old Sanctuary at Dawnstar, and now I've got you. We'll get others too, rebuild. That's if you want to?”

“Want to??” Eola laughed. “Sure I want to! Count me right in!” Eola flung her arms around Liriel, hugging her and Liriel couldn't help but smile. What the other five downstairs did was their business, but the Brotherhood was hers now and she had a recruit loyal to her, not Astrid's memory. It was a start.

That was when the Night Mother spoke.

“Listener!”

“Mother?” Liriel whispered. Eola was also looking about, trying to hear but without success.

“The Hag of Hags is here?” Eola breathed, eyes falling on the coffin, impressed. Liriel hushed her, listening intently.

“Listener... you are fortunate in your choice of allies. The Son of Sithis is a worthy friend. Well done on finding him.”

That had to mean Madanach. “I'm not sure we're actually still friends any more, but I think he just saved this place,” said Liriel, wondering what Madanach felt for her. He'd definitely seemed grateful to her for healing him.

“Oh hush, child, he is still yours, have no doubt of that. Three hours of his sister shouting at him was enough to make him have doubts about his actions, and you and he have unfinished business. You can trust him. If he offers assistance, take it.”

Good to know. Maybe they'd never be lovers again, but she could live with them being friends. Even if seeing him did make her want to cry.

“Go, Liriel. You have work to do. This Sanctuary is compromised and the Brotherhood needs a leader. They will look to you, and we have a contract to fulfil. Find Motierre – he's in the Bannered Mare in Whiterun. He can tell you where the target is. Then finish the job. Astrid's treachery will not stop the Hand of Sithis.”

“Hail Sithis,” Liriel whispered, getting to her feet. Was the Night Mother right? Could she still do this job, kill the Emperor? She didn't know, but if the Night Mother said it was still possible, she'd give it her best shot.

If the Night Mother said Madanach was trustworthy still, she'd be willing to believe that too.

~~~~~~

A/N: Cicero would like it to be known that that was the single most satisfying kill I've ever had him do. :)

Oh he's definitely regretting it, hence the sending Argis off to Whiterun and telling Cicero he can stay.

I do love writing Argis - I killed him off in another fic and really regret it, this is my way of making it up to him.

Cicero's either the best person to have around after a break-up or the absolute worst, I can't decide. His heart's in the right place though.

Squee! I'm very glad you're enjoying it, and blushing at the lovely compliment. :)

OMG LYDIA NOOOO!!!!

I haven't even read to the end to find out what's happened yet, I just had to get that in there. *Hurries off to find out who kidnapped Liriel's kids and how they're going to pay for it, not at all convinced that stealing children is too low for the Thalmor.*

Cicero should be proud. It was satisfying for the rest of us, too.

I can see why you enjoyed writing this chapter, it's action-packed and sweet and funny and sad and marvelous. Inga was lovely - I see where Argis gets it. Really glad Liriel and Lydia got to talk in Sovngarde. "Astrid, I'm hurt. I'm personally wounded by the insinuation that I might not be a man of my word." BAHAHAHAHA, every last one of them deserves a medal for keeping a straight face, Madanach most of all. And then he oh-so-innocently reveals her treachery to the rest of the Brotherhood. THAT MAGNIFICENT BASTARD. Thank Sithis he's all right! And this:

“Did I do well, did I, did I?” Cicero cooed, prancing about in front of Kaie.

“You were marvellous, sweetie,” Kaie purred. “I'd hug you if you weren't covered in blood.”

“I don't mind blood,” Eola breathed softly.

*Catches breath from rollercoaster of a chapter and promptly dies of laughter*

Ahhh! I'm enthused that you're even considering it! :)

A rogue Breton DB sounds perfect and I don't really have any squicks though I guess I'd rather nothing toilet-y!

And I'm pretty open with kinks...just as long as the DB is pretending that Siddgeir's in charge ;)

(The DB giving him spectacular oral on his Jarl's throne would be amazing but by no means compulsory!)

Argis has sworn an oath to serve his Thane. He knew the M!Nord!DB took a shine to him from the very first moment, and it made him uncomfortable. But when he proposed, and Argis knew he could not reject the Thane, he thought he was doomed.
Never again lying with a woman, but instead only with a MAN, horrifies him, but the DB, a Nord as big and bulky as Argis himself, literally blows his housecarl's mind off in the wedding night.

I want to see a dumbfounded Argis who is a little homophobic at the beginning, but utterly enjoying himself at the end of the story.

A faithful servant of Boethiah (who also happens to be the DB) knows it is not enough for the Daedric Prince of deceit to have someone loyal murdered at the shrine, oh no, it must be someone special. Someone who is close to the DB. A spouse, for example.

I'd like to see the spouse's feelings as the DB suddenly changes in behaviour, maybe acts guilty, maybe the spouse thinks his/her love is cheating on them... however, their end draws near, and when the spouse finally touches the pillar and realizes what their beloved one had been up to, I want to know how they feel, and what they think.
Do they feel betrayed? Do they understand? Can they forgive the beloved DB with their last breath?

Give me angst, give me heartbreak, give me nightmares!

Super bonus point if the spouse is Vilkas.

So, are you looking for the Argonian to be specifically named Walks-With-Trees? I wonder this because you placed an importance on the Bosmer and Argonian talking about trees, any reason behind that? Or do you have some sort of tree fetish, or should the Argonian. Oh my, an image of the pairing having relations came to mind.
Anyway, I can consider writing this. I would like your reply though. Thanks.

:3 OP will wait here hopefully!

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