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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

Yes, she is going to have a bit of a tough time of it - UESP does list Two-Handed and One-Handed and Light Armour as skills of hers, so I am going to assume that she's had a few lessons, although you are correct in assuming she's not had a lot of practical experience. Never mind, we were all newbies once - she'll get there in the end. Thanks for commenting!

Not too late to post a microfill, right?

tags: Dragon, Paarthurnax, and hell if I know.

"Paarthurnax, may I speak to you about the customs of dragons?", the Dragonborn asked.

"Geh, you may.", answered the ancient dragon perched on the Throat of the World. "But from where does this laan, request, come from?"

The dragonborn fidgeted with his armour and shuffled in the snow. "I saw some dragons fighting. With their Thu'um." He paused. "But they didn't use it with just words of power, just with some words."

Paarthurnax waited for him to continue until he didn't, "Which rotte, words, were they?"

"Nid, geh, nahl, and some others which I can't recall."

"And you wish to know why they used their thu'um with these words only, geh?"

"Geh- I mean, yes."

The ancient dragon shifted so that his weight was spread over the slab of stone he perched on. "They were debating."

"Debating?" The surprise was quite evident in the Dragonborn's voice.

"Geh. Just as some juul will shout some words to place mul, strength, within them, dov will use their thu'um. Do you understand, dovahkiin?"

The dragonborn just looked even more awkward as he thought about how to best phrase his next question. "Yes. But what I wanted to ask about what happened after they debated,", he waited to allow Paarthurnax to interrupt and when he didn't he continued, "One of them mounted the other, from behind, and then started humping them. And after a while the one of top growled to the high heavens and stopped thrusting. They then stroked their faces together and flew off. As the one who was below the other flew off there was a trail of white that followed it- her!" His face was quite warm by now.

A long, bloated silent passed between them before Paarthurnax gave a low grumble that the dragonborn took to be a chuckle.

"Were one of the words spoken by them Kul or Bromah or Monah?"

"Er, yes they were. But what does that mean to the, erm, 'actions' the dragons took?"

"Mal Dovakiir, when one Dov wishes to have kirre with another, and so become Monah and Bormah, they begin a Grahserot, where one tries to prove to the other why they should mate."

"So I just watched two dov - dragons, court each other?"

"Yes, 'court' is the word your kind would use to describe what you saw."

"Okay then, I suppose I now understand what has happend." A pause. "I should leave now."

"I am sure that you have many labours still to complete Dovahkiin. And please, if you have any more laan about the butterflies and the nirnroots, do not be zofaas, afraid, to ask."

Pairings: Mostly gen
Warnings/kinks: au, gen, char:elisif, race:nord
Summary: Elisif sets off for High Hrothgar, leaving her true identity and the responsibilities of Jarldom behind her. The responsibilities of Dragonborn don't rest any easier though, so it's a good thing she finds some allies...

A/N: YAY, people are reading! I'm so pleased. Here is the next chapter - a bit longer, this one. Elisif's not a brilliant fighter on her own, so I felt it a good idea to get her some help.

In the end, things had gone fairly smoothly – everyone was agreed she had to follow the Greybeards' call. So off to High Hrothgar it was. She'd kitted herself out with a full set of finely crafted scaled armour – not terribly substantial, but she could barely move in steel plate. It would do. She'd also got potions, an axe and sword, Elven bow, a few glass arrows and lots of steel ones, some food for the road, and a full coin purse. She'd also talked Sybille into teaching her some basic spells – nothing fancy, just healing, the three basic Destruction spells, how to cast mage armour, how to conjure a familiar, and spells for clairvoyance and candlelight. She'd never be a wizard but it wouldn't hurt to know a few spells.

About the only stumbling block had been her insisting on going alone. Falk had put his foot down and insisted she take guards, she'd shouted back that the whole point of this was to get to know her country and discover what she could really do, and she wasn't depriving Solitude of its protectors. Falk had asked what about her protection and Elisif had just shrugged.

“I'm Dragonborn. I don't need it like you do.”

“At least take Bolgeir,” Falk sighed.

“And won't you need a guard?” Elisif had asked.

In the end, they'd compromised. Which meant Elisif set out on her journey accompanied by a troop of Haafingar guards escorting her as far as Dragon Bridge, and then the rest of the way by one of the housecarls in training, Jordis the Sword Maiden. Falk had seen her off at Solitude gates, giving her a hug and telling her to take care, and she'd hugged him back and told him to look after her city. Then she'd left, feeling a lump in her throat as she'd walked away. Dragon Bridge had arrived all too soon, and she'd stared at the bridge, knowing once she crossed it that would be it. She'd have left Haafingar and she wouldn't be Jarl any more, just one warrior and a not terribly experienced one at that.

Elisif took a deep breath, whispered a prayer to Mara, and started walking.

Once over, it was amazing how the fear just seemed to slide from her, like a weight had just lifted from her shoulders. Elisif walked on and kept walking, and then started running, running and squealing like a little girl until she got tired and had to stop. She was free! She could do whatever she wanted! Go wherever she wanted! She didn't have to worry about being Jarl or Queen or about Ulfric or the war or anything. She was just Elisif, on her own, ready to start exploring.

Well. Not quite on her own.

“My Jarl!” Jordis gasped, running after Elisif in her steel armour, slowed down a little but Jordis' stamina far outstripped Elisif's. “Wait for me!”

“Sorry,” Elisif said, waiting for Jordis to catch up. “I got... carried away.”

To her surprise, Jordis actually giggled, and Elisif realised that for all the woman's strength and prowess, she was no older than Elisif herself, not by much anyway.

“Oh that's all right, Jarl,” Jordis laughed. “It's exciting, isn't it? I've never been up to High Hrothgar before. I wonder what it's like?”

“Cold, I imagine,” said Elisif, looking towards the Throat of the World, its peak just visible in the distance. “Listen, Jordis, now we're away from Solitude, you need to stop calling me your Jarl. I don't want people knowing who I am. It'd get the wrong kind of attention.”

“Of course, my Ja- sorry,” said Jordis sheepishly. “Er. What do I call you then? I don't think I can call you Elisif.”

No, and the name wasn't common enough that people wouldn't automatically associate it with the High Queen to be, especially a young High Queen who was Dragonborn apparently. Wouldn't take long for a rumour like that to spread.

“Don't call me anything,” Elisif said, racking her brains for a suitable alias. “Or just call me ma'am. Just not anything likely to give me away. The whole point of travelling quietly is so no one knows it's me. They'll treat me differently if they know, and how can I ever learn to be a good queen if I don't know what Skyrim's like for people who aren't Jarls?”

“Dangerous,” said Jordis quietly, hand resting on her sword hilt. “But I'll protect you with my life, my Jarl.”

Elisif thought of Jordis lying dead because of her and shivered. Not if she could help it. No one was dying because of her. She was here to help save Skyrim, not get people killed. Hand on her own weapons, she led on.

~~~~~~~~~

The journey wasn't too challenging at first. A few beasts, and although Elisif reacted to the first wolf pack by shrieking and dropping her sword while Jordis dealt with them, she did better with the second, and when they ran into bandits at Robber's Gorge, actually wounded one before sprinting away in terror.

“That does it, I am getting Falk to send soldiers down here!” Elisif seethed once away from the place.

“You can't,” said Jordis, still cleaning the blood off her own sword. “You're not in Haafingar, that's part of Hjaalmarch. Jarl Idgrod would complain.”

“Idgrod's not got the troops, I have,” said Elisif stubbornly, although she was only dimly aware of how many guards she had at her personal disposal as opposed to Legionnaires and Penitus Oculatus. It bothered her a little that she didn't know – she was Jarl, she should know this, right?

“Yes, my Jarl,” said Jordis simply, knowing when not to argue. Elisif just sighed and walked on. Why couldn't it be as easy as just sending some soldiers in? She was Jarl and Dragonborn and soon to be queen, she must be able to do something about a few ill-disciplined bandits. And yet damned if she could think of anything.

They kept on, stopping for lunch in Rorikstead, where a little girl called Sissel stopped by and told Elisif all about a dream she'd had about a friendly old dragon on top of a mountain. Elisif listened and gasped in all the right places and gave the girl a septim. Sissel had gasped and hidden it, thanking her in a soft whisper and running away. Elisif had felt her heart break watching the girl run off. She loved children, desperately wanted some of her own... but Torygg was dead and she couldn't face taking another man into her bed, she just couldn't. It hadn't even been five months.

All the same... babies. Maybe one day. Maybe she could keep it together just long enough to get it over with and get pregnant. Perhaps.

Aside from a few wolves, the journey passed uneventfully, and Whiterun loomed up ahead. Elisif debated calling in at Dragonsreach and asking Balgruuf for a room, before remembering she was meant to be all self-sufficient and experiencing Skyrim like an ordinary citizen. So the inn it was then. Elisif was just about ready for a meal and some mead.

Right up until she got to the city outskirts and saw the dragon attacking, swooping low over the outer farms, burning roofs and crop fields, and while Elisif was no farmer, she knew enough to know that was someone's livelihood and home, and potentially a good chunk of the city's food supply, going up in smoke.

“Oh no you don't!” Elisif hissed, reaching for her bow. Finally, something helpful she could do.

Unfortunately, shooting a dragon in flight was tough even for a master at archery and Elisif wasn't even close to being that. Fortunately, Jordis was up to the job and it seemed Elisif wasn't the only one fighting. There were Whiterun guards present, and four other warriors, a woman with red hair and rather revealing armour who was managing to hit the dragon almost every time, two men in odd armour with wolf heads on it, who were certainly brothers if not twins, and a young woman about Elisif's age who seemed to be an Imperial. All were taking shots at the dragon, a few arrows even hitting it, and finally it was injured enough to land... right next to Elisif.

For a brief moment everything seemed to go still around her as she stared into the beast's eyes, its teeth right there and capable of tearing her apart and oh gods, it was alive and huge and could breathe fire and...

“SU!” she Shouted, grabbing her weapons and flinging herself into battle. She wasn't the most skilled warrior out there, but she'd had lessons, she wasn't a complete novice and it was amazing how training just kicked in as she darted away from the thing's mouth, ebony axe and glass sword carving into the beast's skin with frightening speed. Glorious, it was glorious, fighting and slashing and stabbing and she should have done this years ago! And then the beast's head swung round and fire spewed from its mouth.

“My Jarl!” Jordis knocked her to the ground, covering her as the flames roared over them both. Elisif shrank back from the heat, seeing one of the twins, the shorter of the two, leaping over her, greatsword in hand, swinging it into the dragon as he screamed that he'd rip its heart out. Meanwhile, the young Imperial was there, pulling Jordis to her feet and then Elisif while the wolf brothers distracted the thing.

“Are you alright?” the woman asked. Elisif nodded, heart pounding.

“I never fought one before!” she whispered. Jordis had already grabbed her sword and rushed back into the fray.

“Well, you were doing really well!” the Imperial laughed, lifting her own sword. “Come on, let's give the others a hand before it takes off again. FOR JORRVASKR!”

Jorrvaskr? Well, that explained a lot. Elisif had certainly heard of the Companions, but never been inside their hall. Maybe she'd have to visit. Assuming the dragon didn't kill her first.

She start attacking again, at the back this time, not as fast as she'd been with the Thu'um powering her strikes, but fast enough. The dragon's blood spurted as she hit it, and Elisif grimaced but didn't stop because if she did, it might turn round and breathe fire and she hated fire, feared it more than anything, feared it more than a dragon's claws and teeth.

Wolf twin number one shoved a greatsword through the roof of its mouth while twin number two managed to shove his blade into the beast's shoulder and it finally died. Elisif stepped back, feeling her knees going weak as she lowered her weapons, then sank to the ground before she fainted entirely. She'd killed a dragon. Helped kill a dragon. Got in a few hits and not died, which was something, right?

“Is she alright?” That was the redhead archer.

“I think so.” The Imperial. “That armour looks brand new, I don't think she's terribly experienced.”

“Good armour though.” Wolf twin one, the bigger one. “Weapons not bad either. Think she smithed them herself?”

“Hardly,” wolf twin two sneered, lip curling. “Look at her, she's some noble-born brat who's barely swung a sword before in her life. Papa's money probably paid for all that.”

Just because it was true didn't mean it didn't hurt. Elisif winced, slowly getting up so she could at least face the man on his level.

“Vilkas!” the Imperial cried. “Leave her alone, she was good at it! You should have seen her when it first landed, she didn't bat an eyelid, she just tore into it!”

“Instinct,” said Elisif, brushing herself down and doing her best to sound composed. Remember, you are a Jarl and they're... bigger and stronger and better with weapons, but you're still their queen and don't you forget it!

“Well, you've got good instincts,” said the young Imperial, impressed. “My name's Ria, what's yours?”

Elisif opened her mouth to reply then realised she'd not thought of an alias yet. Fortunately, Jordis saved her the trouble as she raced over to her, horrified.

“My Ja-” she began, until Elisif swatted her on the side.

“Maia?” Ria asked, smiling. “That's a pretty name! It suits you.”

Elisif promptly forgave her housecarl everything, turning her brightest smile on Ria.

“That's right! I'm Maia. I grew up in Wayrest, but came to live in Solitude a few years ago. Now I'm exploring the rest of Skyrim. Getting to know the old country, you know?”

It wasn't even a lie. Might as well keep her story as close to the truth as possible, right?

“You've not picked the best time to do that,” the redhaired Nord remarked. “First the war, now the dragons – wait, I've never seen one do that before.”

Too late, Elisif remembered she was Dragonborn now. The dragon crackled and burned beside her and the soul boiled up around her, blinding her and filling her eyes and ears until she knew nothing else, and then snap. The jaws in her head swallowed it whole, taking its power and tucking it away, waiting for her to find another of those Word Walls.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, wincing as four Companions stared at her in disbelief.

“What was that?” wolf twin one asked, blinking. “It's like you just sucked the life out of it.”

“Sucked the soul out of it,” the woman said, staring right at her as if she knew exactly what Elisif was.

“You're Dragonborn,” Vilkas breathed, and finally he actually looked impressed.

“Dragonborn?” Ria asked, confused. “What's a Dragonborn?”

“A mortal with a dragon's blood,” Vilkas explained, eyes never leaving Elisif. “Capable of killing a dragon for good.”

“That one's certainly not going to be getting up and flying again any time soon,” said the redhead, going over the dragon's corpse and retrieving various arrows, all the loose dragon bones and scales and a decent amount of coin, which she presented Elisif with.

“There you go, Maia. We're already being paid by the Jarl to deal with any visiting dragons. Only fair you have something for your trouble.”

“Thank you,” said Elisif softly. “I didn't get your name.”

“Aela,” the woman said, appraising Elisif and seeming to approve of what she saw. “Aela the Huntress. These are my Shield-Brothers Farkas and Vilkas, and this is Ria, our newest recruit. We're Companions of Jorrvaskr. If you wanted to come with us, you'd be welcome at our hall tonight.”

Elisif stared, then turned to Jordis to see if she'd heard that right.

“Are you inviting me to become a Companion?” she whispered. Vilkas actually laughed at that.

“Not my decision,” said Aela, swatting Vilkas. “Kodlak, our Harbinger, decides who gets to join. But you can certainly stay as our guest. Not often we get a Dragonborn staying with us.”

It certainly beat staying at the inn.

“All right then, lead the way!” Elisif laughed, beckoning to Jordis to follow.

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

Elisif looked about her as she entered the hall. Mostly wood, easy prey to a dragon's fire, but homely for all that. There were a few others hanging around, one Nord swigging from a tankard, eyes crossing as he tried to focus in her direction, a dark Elf reading quietly in the corner, a Nord woman who just sneered at her and walked off, and at the table, two older men in the same armour the twins wore, seeming to be having some sort of discussion.

“My mind is made up, Skjor,” the bearded one said, determined.

“You can't be serious, Kodlak,” Skjor cried. “Why would you want to give it up?”

“There is more to life than the chase,” said Kodlak, not wavering an inch, and Elisif realised this must be the famous Kodlak Whitemane, Harbinger of the Companions.

“Nothing worth living for,” said Skjor stubbornly, but he backed off when he saw the others walk in. Both Skjor and Kodlak looked at her and Jordis and looked curious.

“A stranger comes,” said Kodlak, surprised. “Aela, who is this?”

“A guest,” said Aela. “For tonight. That's all right, isn't it, Harbinger?”

“She's got a good story,” Farkas added, grinning. Elisif wasn't sure what to make of either wolf twin yet, but Farkas seemed friendly – friendlier than his brother at any rate.

“Kodlak, she's Dragonborn!” Ria cried, and that had the entire room going quiet.

“Dragonborn?” Skjor asked, looking at Elisif with renewed interest. “Are you sure?”

“Damn sure, Skjor, she took a dragon's soul right in front of us,” said Vilkas, taking a seat and indicating for Elisif to do likewise. Elisif sat down next to Kodlak, Skjor making way for her and Jordis standing at her shoulder, ready if anything did happen.

“Dragonborn,” Kodlak murmured, watching her keenly. “A rare gift indeed. But while the gods wouldn't choose unwisely, it is a man or woman's heart that is the measure of them, not whatever gifts they have.” He was staring right into Elisif's eyes and Elisif shivered a little under that gaze. It was as if he could see right into her soul.

“I just want to do right by Skyrim, sir,” said Elisif nervously.

“Quite so,” said Kodlak, seeming to approve. “But how do you decide what the right thing by Skyrim is?”

A question with an infinite number of answers and no real right one, but Elisif would have to say something, wouldn't she?

“No one can please everyone, sir,” said Elisif. “But I don't think the war and the dragons are really helping anyone, so I'd quite like those to stop.”

To her surprise, Kodlak actually laughed at that. “A worthy aim indeed! Would that all Nords were so conscientious. Yes, you'll do. Wanting to help but not wanting to force your own ideas on others either, yes, you've got a good heart, lass. You can join.”

Join. As in... “You're inviting me to join the Companions?” Elisif gasped. Kodlak nodded.

“Yes. I think the Dragonborn could bring us a great deal of honour, and you look like you could use the help. Even with your friend here at your side.” He indicated Jordis, who'd drawn closer to Elisif as they'd talked.

“Oh, this is Jordis,” said Elisif, realising she'd have to tell Kodlak something about herself. She didn't want to give her true identity away but she felt guilty about lying too. Still, she had very little choice. “She's my bodyguard. I'm Maia. From High Rock originally, but I've lived the last few years in Solitude.”

“Maia of Solitude,” said Kodlak thoughtfully, and if he suspected that wasn't her real name, he didn't say anything. “Well, Maia of Solitude, you can consider yourself welcome in Jorrvaskr.”

“Better test her sword-arm before you promise her that, Harbinger,” Vilkas put in. “She's a noble-born brat who probably never swung a blade before today.”

“She went up against a dragon and survived,” Aela pointed out. “She's got skills.”

“Believe it when I see it,” Skjor muttered, looking rather sceptical, and Elisif felt the rage building again, the desire to rip, tear, fight this arrogant joor and make him submit to her, acknowledge the power of her Thu'um, and sweet Kynareth where was this coming from? Elisif shrank back, suddenly afraid. What in the world was happening to her?

“All right then,” said Kodlak, getting to his feet. “Let's go to the training yard and see what Maia here's capable of. Maia, you'll be going head to head with Skjor – no, nothing dangerous, just a little sparring match.”

Elisif really wasn't sure about this – Skjor must be in his fifties at least and looked every inch the battle-hardened warrior. But there was little to be done. All the Companions seemed to think this was a fine idea and were all filing out after Kodlak.

“I'm really not sure about this!” Elisif whispered to Jordis. Her housecarl just patted her shoulder.

“It'll be fine, Maia,” she said, adopting the alias with barely a qualm. “He's not a dragon and you're not trying to kill him. He's not trying to kill you either. Just show him what you can do.”

Mara help her. She wasn't sure what she was more afraid of – Skjor harming her... or her harming Skjor.

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

“Now don't worry about hurting me,” Skjor said, shield in place and sword held ready. “I can take whatever you can throw at me, whelp. Just come at me and give it your best shot.”

Elisif didn't feel at all comfortable doing this but raised her axe anyway, tentatively swinging it at him. Skjor blocked it easily.

“Try again,” he laughed, and Elisif gritted her teeth, going in for another strike, harder this time.

“Too soft!” Skjor barked. “I could have killed you three times while you were flitting about doing that! Again!”

Elisif went for another blow, and another, all easily parried, Skjor looking exasperated, and she could tell Vilkas was smirking, she just knew it, and Kodlak must be so disappointed. She was hopeless, she really was. And yet fighting that dragon, she'd been fine, losing herself to the moment and just striking at it, the Thu'um powering her blows as she danced alongside it.

She'd always liked dancing. Maybe...

Taking a deep breath, she began to dance, treating the whole thing like a strange dance where you moved to avoid your partner's touches but tried to touch them. To her surprise, it seemed to work, as Skjor seemed to hesitate, not sure what she was doing. She could feel a dragon growling inside, the Thu'um ready to strike again, and without fully realising it, she heard herself cry “SU!”

Everything sped up as Elisif lost herself to the moment, striking and slashing, mostly hitting Skjor's shield but he was staggering back, barely holding her off.

“Maia!” she heard Jordis cry. “Maia!”

Elisif stopped, sword inches from Skjor's chin.

“Oh,” she whispered. “I didn't... oh.”

Skjor slowly lowered his weapons, looking up at her with new-found respect.

“I take it back. You're a true fighter. Glad to have you with us.”

“I – really?” Next thing Elisif knew, Jordis was hugging her, squeezing her half to death.

“That was awesome! You were so good, Maia, you really were! You could have had him!”

“That's lovely,” Elisif whispered faintly, really needing a sit down and some mead right now. The dragon had shut up, but for how long?

Kodlak was there, looking impressed if a little worried.

“Well done, lass, well done indeed. Was that the Thu'um you were using there?”

Elisif nodded, no idea how to respond to that.

“Power indeed. The legends clearly don't lie. It's not the whole story though, is it?” Kodlak asked. “You were fighting like a novice, then you suddenly seemed to get some technique from somewhere, and then you Shouted and became unstoppable. You have power, but you've also got a few skills of your own.”

“I had lessons,” Elisif whispered.

“They clearly took,” said Kodlak, squeezing her shoulder proudly. “I think you're going to make a fine warrior. Just... don't rely too heavily on your dragon powers. Hone your skills, not just your Voice. There's a danger with the Thu'um that those who use it can get carried away, think they're better than other humans, above other humans, like the dragons themselves.”

“Like Ulfric,” said Ria softly.

“I am nothing like Ulfric,” said Elisif, feeling the rage flare up again at the mere thought.

“No, no,” Kodlak reassured her. “I'm sure you're very different to him. But dragon blood is not to be taken lightly. Just remember you're still human.”

Still human, well of course she was, she was just Elisif at the end of the day, a young girl who'd visited Solitude, gone to a party, met the High King's son, fallen in love and somehow ended up as Jarl. She liked to think she hadn't changed much.

“Harbinger!” the Dunmer Elisif had seen earlier called. “Er... we've got a visitor.”

“Another one? Who is it?” Kodlak asked, frowning.

“Er... it's Jarl Balgruuf, Harbinger,” the elf said nervously.

Elisif froze, panicking. The one person she'd not wanted to run into, the one person who would recognise her, and he was here at Jorrvaskr, and she couldn't even run because that would be suspicious, that would make it look like she had something to hide. Which she did, but it wasn't like she was a fugitive or anything. She slipped into a chair, poured some mead and hunched her shoulders – with her scaled helmet on and her head down, he might not notice her, might not think she was anything other than just another Companion.

That hope was very quickly dashed.

“Jarl Balgruuf!” Kodlak said, going to meet the Jarl as he came round the corner. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“Kodlak, old friend,” Balgruuf said, hint of a smile in his voice as the two men embraced. “It's good to see you. My guards told me you have a guest. That you had a little help dealing with the dragon just now. Tell me, is it true the Dragonborn's here?”

All eyes turned to Elisif, who hunched down even further.

“Aye, she's here,” said Kodlak softly. “My Jarl, can I ask what you want from her? I hope you don't want to use her in some political machination. She's not a pawn to be used in the war effort.”

Too late for that, Elisif thought bitterly. She was aware of Balgruuf walking over to her, Irileth and a couple of guards standing not far behind him. Damn it all, she'd left Solitude to get away from politics! Was her new-found freedom over already?

“No, no,” she heard Balgruuf say. “I just wanted to talk with her alone for a few minutes. What did you say she was calling herself?”

“Maia,” Kodlak replied. “Maia of Solitude.”

“Maia,” Balgruuf repeated. “Well then, Maia.” He'd taken the seat opposite the table from her and glanced at everyone else. “May I have some privacy?”

Kodlak hesitated then nodded, motioning for everyone to leave, while Irileth and the guards retreated out of earshot. Jordis lingered at Elisif's side.

“Maia, I'm not leaving you,” she began, but Elisif shook her head.

“Jordis, wait inside. I'm sure the Jarl won't be long.”

“If you're sure -” Jordis said, glaring at Balgruuf.

“Jordis. Go.” Jordis paused then nodded, taking her leave. Finally, Elisif looked up to meet Balgruuf's eyes. He was watching her, not looking remotely surprised, in fact if anything he looked sympathetic.

“So. You found me then.”

“I wasn't actually looking until I heard a Dragonborn who happened to be a young Nord woman turned up,” said Balgruuf gently. “Falk's letter arrived this morning with the news – he knew you'd come through here and wanted to make sure you had no trouble. Elisif... is it true?”

No sense denying it and why else would she have left Solitude with just one housecarl at her back?

“Yes. I'm Dragonborn. I'm on my way to High Hrothgar. I was going to stay at the inn, but the Companions found me first. They don't know who I really am. I'd like it to stay that way.”

“Understandable,” said Balgruuf, nodding. “For your own safety, it's best to keep a low profile. It's just... Dragonborn? You? Not that I don't believe you, it's just... you never were a warrior, Elisif. Are you sure you're going to be all right?”

No, I'm terrified, I have no idea what I'm doing, I'm really really scared, and the scariest thing of all of it is me.

“I need to do this, Balgruuf,” said Elisif softly. “Skyrim needs me, the dragons are attacking everywhere, and no one can kill them but me. So yes I have to go to High Hrothgar, and yes I have to get out there and learn to fight, and the Companions are going to teach me.”

“I know,” said Balgruuf, and although he looked sad, he also looked rather proud of her. “I just worry about you, that's all. You're a young woman who never asked for any of this.”

“No,” said Elisif. “But I'm a Nord, and true Nords never back down, right? If I die... at least I'll go to Sovngarde and see Torygg again.”

Balgruuf reached over and clasped her hand. “This may sound a little callous, but for all our sakes, I hope you don't die. It would be a very sad loss, both personally and politically.”

“Thank you,” Elisif whispered. Out of all the other Jarls, Balgruuf had always been her favourite. Igmund was arrogant, Siddgeir obnoxious, Laila a little patronising, Idgrod verging on crazy, Korir bitter, Skald set in his ways and blind to his failings, and as for Ulfric... best not to think too long about him. But Balgruuf had always been genuinely kind to her, like a favourite uncle. She considered him a dear friend, even if he hadn't fully committed to her in the war yet. She had a feeling he would in the end though.

“Don't mention it,” said Balgruuf gruffly. “And if there's anything I can do in the mean time, let me know. You're welcome at Dragonsreach any time, you know that.”

She knew, and it was good to hear, but she couldn't rely on her social status alone. She thanked him anyway and gave him a hug as he got up to leave.

“You take care,” said Balgruuf. “Don't get yourself killed.”

“You too,” Elisif whispered. Balgruuf nodded.

“Now, where's that Harbinger of yours? I've got a job for him, and you should come as well. You may find it of interest.”

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

A/N: And there we are, a source of assistance without Elisif having to do the entire Companions questline. I always had a feeling she and Kodlak would get on.

ooooh, I absolutely have to see more of this!

Talos be praised; you’re finally back!!! Don’t mind me while I do my happy dance. Lol.

Ah look, I managed to grind out an update. I get the feeling my pace is going to be consistently slow and for that I apologize profusely. I do hope it's worth the wait.

“You look...” Ralof hesitated, staring at the scraggly Breton on his doorstep, “worse for wear.”

“Yes, I’ve just returned from a Thalmor garden party. Care to hear all about it?” Audric was clinging to the wooden lamp post, splinters be damned, grinning from ear to ear.

Gently, Ralof guided him inside, careful not to incite any reactions. “You’ve been on the road too long, again; you’re weary.” He steered the wind-blown, sunburnt man onto his own bed, posed him like a life-sized doll and began helping him out of his armor. He’d seen Audric worse, and Audric had seen him worse; there were no secrets here.

“Is that your nice way of saying I’m mad?” Audric inquired faintly. His skin was feverish beneath his clothes, so Ralof pulled those off of him, too.

Chuckling, he responded, “I think you’ve always been a bit mad.” He noticed the color draining from Audric’s face and pulled a bucket before him just in time. “You’re not mad, you’re ill from the heat.” He took clumps of dirty, russet hair in each hand, keeping it out of harm’s way. Once Audric had spat up the last thin strings of vomit, Ralof wiped his tired face with a wet cloth, cleaned him up, tucked him in.

“Do you remember,” Audric coughed, “the first time we met?”

“How could I forget?” he laughed.

“No, the first time we really met.” His eyes were closed, and in the light, Ralof could see that they were bruised. “Not, not scrambling through Helgen. Later. You know.”

“Shh.” He felt Audric’s forehead, smelled his breath; this was only a touch of sun-sickness, nothing more.

“I was sick then, too,” he yawned.

“Are you trying to tell me something?”

“I don’t know what I’m saying.”

That much is obvious, he thought, but kept quiet. Not that Audric would remember this in a few hours, anyway.

Yes, he remembered meeting Audric, vividly. And indeed, the boy had been sick then, too. Before Helgen, the boy had never killed another man, and once his actions had caught up with him, his knees had buckled and he’d nearly fainted into his own puddle of sick. That had been almost a year ago. Since then, Audric had stopped in on him to and from his many adventures, supplying Ralof with excellent tales. Though now, it would be some time before he could show his face in Riverwood – in any town – without fear of arrest; Audric’s legacy would have to wait.

In part, it was difficult to live in hiding. Things that had once been a simple matter of a stroll to the general store now took hours of his time. He’d plotted a decent vegetable garden, but man could not survive on greens alone. Alternatively, there was a definitive peacefulness to being so far removed from society, to answering only to himself. He wondered, glancing at his sleeping friend, if this was something of what it must be like to be him.

It was with startling frequency that Audric awoke to strange ceilings, so he did not panic. Instead, he let his memory and his breath come back to him. He was naked, he realized, his clothing folded neatly on the table beside him, armor nowhere to be seen. Nudity was hardly unusual for him either, though from what he remembered, the context was disappointingly platonic. He sat up slowly, but his head still spun so he tucked himself in half and waited for it to stop.

“Finally awake,” came a familiar voice. “How’re you feeling?”

“Tired,” Audric answered from between his knees, “and like I got caught on the business end of a mammoth’s tusk.”

“Well the sun is nearly down. Why don’t you go outside and have yourself a bath. Do us both a favor,” he smiled.

“Ha.” Audric stood, stretching, spots swimming in his vision.

The sky was gorgeous, the dying sunlight blushing across the treeline. Torchbugs blinked in and out of sight and birds sang their evening songs. Still a little delirious, he felt as though he were walking through a dream. In the shadow of the mountains, under the embers of dusk, Audric stepped into the cool lake, the hairs on his arms and legs standing on end. The water was a relief, and he made short work of dunking himself, feeling better and better as he soaked. He floated along on his back and listened to the wind in the trees, the flutter of moth wings, the splash of fish. He closed his eyes, wishing he could sleep, drown himself, let Skyrim sort out its dragon infestation for itself.

Let Ulfric clean up his own damned mess.

In the way that all youths are, Audric was quick and sure in his presumptions, and he had presumed to know the nature of Skyrim’s civil war. He was an educated young man, was aware of the complications of natural resources and political economics and religious conflicts. At a glance, he’d thought he’d untangled the riddle of what drove Ulfric’s rebellion. And all in all, he couldn’t say he disagreed; Justiciars being allowed to come into homes in the night, to arrest families and torture people to death, in the Empire’s own prisons, no less...it certainly left a sour taste in his mouth.

He had to return to Riften. If not to settle the matter of Ulfric, then to locate this Esbern fellow. He’d told Delphine he would work quickly; then again, he’d told Ulfric he’d be back in a matter of days. It had been over a week since he’d departed.

Inhaling an impressive breath, he dove under, submerging himself in the dark and quiet.

Ralof was at the fire when he returned, the small house filled with the smell of a smoky broth. Audric deposited himself in a chair at the small kitchen table, dripping all over the place. He couldn’t remember when, exactly, Ralof had relocated to this isolated shack in the woods, but much as he appreciated Gerdur and Hod (not to mention their illimitable hospitality), Audric preferred the privacy.

“So, when do you think you’ll be able to revisit civilization?” he teased. He sniffed the air, gorging himself on the rich aroma of wood smoke and dinner.

“Ha, give it a year, or two.”

“Probably after they recapture Ulfric,” he stated evenly. He didn’t actually intend to give the man up, but he’d surrendered to curiosity, and now he was angry. “I’m sure things will calm down considerably.”

Ralof sighed, his shoulders sagging under some invisible weight, and Audric resented his own childish grudge for burdening an already tired man. “I’d rather wait out my days in the wilderness than see Jarl Ulfric meet the headsman’s axe, friend.”

“Well,” Audric paused, turning an empty tankard over in his hands, “at least you wouldn’t actually have to see it.” He didn’t need to look up; he could practically feel Ralof’s frown. “But really, you could just change your name, maybe retire to Falkreath.”

“A false hope, but I would change it to something braver,” he mused, filling Audric’s mug with water.

“Oh, I don’t know.” He gazed upward, locked eyes with his friend. “I like ‘Ralof’ all right.”

Ralof chewed back a grin, twisting it into submission. “You’ve made that clear.”

“I could enunciate my point, after dinner.” It was a half-offer though, sincere as it was. Audric was exhausted and preoccupied and acutely aware of just how badly he needed to wash his mouth out, for his own sake before anyone else’s.

“Not this time,” he smiled, “but perhaps the next.”

Audric pouted. “A dragon could make lunch out of me before next we meet, for all you know.”

“I doubt that,” he frowned. “Besides, you seem distracted.”

“I wasn’t joking about the Thalmor. It was closer than I’ve ever wanted to get, but necessity dictated a visit to the Embassy.”

Ralof turned sharply, scrutinizing him. Eventually, he regarded Audric dubiously and said, “Well you made it out alive. The question then is how did you make it in? And what necessity could drive you into that pit?”

“How I got in was through sheer charm and good looks,” he offered.

“Sheer dumb luck, more like,” Ralof pinched his cheek condescendingly.

Audric pushed him away. “At any rate, my business there is my own.”

Ralof’s brow furrowed and his mouth sagged. “You don’t simply bring something like that up and expect a man not to inquire.”

“Curiosity killed the cat, you know.”

“It isn’t curiosity,” he growled, “but concern.”
The fire snapped angrily in the grate, and the blaze of popping embers flashed, reflected in their eyes. When Audric refused to comply, Ralof stood and walked away. For a moment, Audric wondered if he would be dismissed.

“You needn’t be concerned about me, friend,” he offered tenderly. “It’s a delicate matter, is all.”

Ralof afforded a glance over his shoulder and said, “You’ve entrusted me with matters more delicate, before.”

No, I haven’t, Audric thought. The legs of the chair – carved haphazardly, in a hurry – scraped unevenly against the woodgrain, making an awful noise. Getting to his feet, he found his clothes and pulled them on, in such a state that he didn’t notice his shirt was backwards. He was already arranging his armor when Ralof came to him, clutching his forearm in a grip that gave him fright.

“Don’t go.”

Apologize, Audric willed, silently, turning a savage gaze unto his good friend. Ralof released his arm as though wounded; fear looked foreign, carved into his ordinarily resolute features.

“I forget, sometimes,” he murmured, “you’re not all human.”

So used to Ulfric’s nescient digs at his race, Audric nearly spat some superbly choice curse words before he realized that it wasn’t his lineage being referenced, but his blood, directly. He actually smiled. “I’m not all dragon, either,” he assured.

Gingerly resting his hand on Audric’s shoulder, looking upon him from several inches’ height difference, he smirked, “Obviously.”

Casting his gaze out to the night beyond the windows, Audric sighed. “I ought to be going before the night is out.”

Nodding, Ralof steered him back to the table, pulled out a bottle of ale to be shared between them. “Perhaps just one tale then – my own, as you aren’t in the spirit, this evening.” Sitting across from Audric, he offered all he had in the way of an olive branch. “Take your pick, hm?”

Audric studied Ralof’s face, searching for new lines, more or less color, since their long ride together on that cart. He thought of Ralof’s outlook on fate that day, how he was prepared to meet the Divines, how he would stand for Ulfric before his own life.

And here, Audric decided, was an opportunity that might never rear its head again.

“Tell me,” he pulled from the bottle, “about Ulfric Stormcloak.”

The night was black, the stars few, as Audric plodded along on horseback. A gentle wind rustled through the grass and the occasional pine needle would fall on his face. Hunched in his saddle, he contemplated all that he had learned in the last few days. He felt minimal guilt about reading the dossier, and knew he would read it again, trying to reconcile the information with what Ralof had been able to reveal.

Still, he had so many questions, and no way to get answers.

At Riften’s south gate, he dismounted and shooed the horse on its way. It was a good, sturdy animal, but Audric had no business keeping it. He imagined it wouldn’t be long before Shadr found it, anyway.

The streets were empty, but for a few guards. He was tired and bitter, and wanted to make time stop, for just a while. He turned before the meadery and slipped out onto the docks. Naturally, it wasn’t long before disruption found him.

“So, how long has it been, this time?”

Audric flopped onto his back to look up at the shadowy figure of Brynjolf. “I don’t know.”

“Me neither.” He got to his knees and shifted until he could sit comfortably beside his guildmaster. “But I managed to get into trouble while you were away,” Brynjolf declared with a grin, as if bragging.

“Lady-trouble, I presume?” Audric asked. Usually, he was eager to be regaled with Brynjolf’s many and varied escapades – and also to exchange some of his own. But it was the end of a hard journey, punctuated with harder truths, and Audric felt as though his bones had grown dense with all the responsibilities he’d worked so hard to shirk.

“Of a sort.”

“Mm. And I suppose you’re just bursting to detail the particulars. I’m curious: was her enthusiasm while you fucked directly proportional to how hard she slapped you upon discovering that you’re an unrepentant cad?”

Silence descended over them. “Is that a hint of jealousy I detect, or is it just the road getting the better of you?” Beneath his nonchalance, there was a waver, an ounce of disquiet.

“Neither.”

“Well good. For the record, I was referring to Maven; a slap would’ve been welcome, instead of the chewing I got for covering your hide.” Brynjolf’s lips against his hair shocked him. “Please, finish up this ancillary business of yours. Etienne told me about your little tour of the Thalmor Embassy.”
Audric’s blood went cold.

“And now the Ratway is crawling with agents – looking for you, I suspect. And Maven tells me the Embassador was fuming, that her office had been sacked, and with no less than at least ten casualties strewn about the premises.”

Audric searched for something to say, but the well was dry. He didn’t know what he ought to apologize for, didn’t know how to explain himself.

“Bellamy, what have you done?”

He hadn’t told Brynjolf about his...birthright, for lack of a better word. He’d eschewed his identity as Dragonborn from the beginning, accepting it only once it became inevitable, and upon meeting this lovely, captivating man, he’d gone to great lengths to keep it to himself. Not that it was usually terribly difficult, in a country that expected the title for one of its own. But the dragons – Alduin, ultimately – were becoming more numerous, more insistent, attacking closer and closer to city walls. And though he was as qualified a secret keeper as he was a thief, some secrets were simply too big.

“There was a job that I needed to do.”

Brynjolf frowned. “I hope the gold was worth your pound of flesh.”
“They were Thalmor.”

“It’s that sort of thinking that sired the war.”

“And that is a gross oversimplification.”

For a moment, it looked almost as if Brynjolf might hit him in the face, or just walk away entirely. But his jaw eased and the tension melted out of his shoulders and his eyes fell fondly to Audric’s own. “Just once, can’t you put some faith in my wisdom?” he was joking, of course.

“You’re old, Bryn, not wise,” Audric smacked his arm. “Besides, I don’t put faith in much.”

“Mm.”

The two of them sat side by side, leaning into one another, Audric’s head on Brynjolf’s shoulder as they gazed out at the darkened windows of Goldenglow. The property looked stark and abandoned without its old patrol.

“I don’t want you doing these outside jobs,” Brynjolf murmured. “Look where that got Etienne.”

“Every time you try to tell me what to do, I want you to remember that I wanted to turn down the position of Guildmaster”

“I’m not asking as your right hand, lad, I’m asking as your friend.”

Audric sighed. “I can’t heed that request. The work I’m doing is important – though, I often wish it wasn’t my burden.”

Pulling back, Brynjolf gazed at Audric a while, his expression inscrutable. “You called it your burden. I don’t know Audric Bellamy to suffer anyone’s burdens, including his own. What is this wearisome errand you’re carrying out?”

I’m purging the world of an ancient and terrible race, he thought sullenly. I’m fulfilling a destiny I don’t entirely acknowledge.

“You won’t tell me,” Brynjolf smiled grimly. “Fine, keep your secrets, and I’ll keep mine.”

It was hard to imagine that Brynjolf had many secrets.

At long last, he pulled Audric against him, kissed him on the temple and whispered in his ear, “Master Bellamy, might I call upon you this evening in your home, or are you still entertaining your fugitive guest?”

Audric whined, wrapping his arms around Brynjolf’s waist. “Please, take me here on the landing, no one need be the wiser.”

“As if you could quiet yourself for even a second,” Brynjolf teased him. “You know,” his voice reeked of the same oiled charisma as if he were peddling Essence of Spriggan’s Breath or some such fanciful ware. “Goldenglow is up for sale. Maven needs a new overseer.”

Audric scoffed. “Divines save that sod’s poor soul.” Working for Maven, even indirectly as he sometimes did, nauseated him, at best. It was his quiet and eventual goal to cut the guild’s ties with her entirely; if he’d wanted any part in political intrigue, he would’ve stayed in High Rock.

“Oh, I don’t know. Think about it: that whole, big house to ourselves, running the guild from a comfortable distance…”
“Ourselves?”

“You could keep Honeyside, let your friend stay at his leisure, and we wouldn’t have to spare coin just to catch up after your long excursions – not that we don’t take it right back, but that’s hardly the point –”

“Wait, wait, slow down. Are you suggesting I buy Goldenglow?”

“Not at all,” Brynjolf beamed cheerfully. “I’m suggesting that we buy it, together. Go in on it in halves, as that would only be fair.”

Audric felt as if his stomach had dissolved and he dearly wished that the rest of his body might follow suit. “And then what? A happy announcement? You don’t seem the type and you know I’m not. What kind of stunt are you trying to pull here, exactly?”

Brynjolf’s big, sonorous laugh rang over the lake, scaring a thrush into flight. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Crossing his arms, indignant now, Audric rolled his eyes.

“I was merely suggesting that it might be nice to put ourselves up in some privacy together, without the looming presence of your house guest or your housecarl, for that matter. And without the presence of Mercer’s memory…” his eyes drifted to their corners, as if he could see Riftweald manor from here. “It was a lark anyway, a fantasy. I feel about as good as you do about living so closely under Maven’s thumb – as if her new title doesn’t put us too close for comfort, as is.”

Ever since he had agreed to aid Ulfric in recovering his political stature, Audric would occasionally entertain the idea of having Maven deposed, preferably in a public and humiliating fashion.

“Well, I need to get to bed; I’m really and truly tired.”
Brynjolf stood and offered his hand, pulled Audric to his feet. His eyes traveled slowly, predacious, along Audric’s body. “That armor looks better on you than it does me.”

“I don’t know about that.” The memory of the first time they’d donned the Nightingale armor together was still crisp in his mind. “Nocturnal’s uniform does you more favors than you deserve.”

The two of them walked together, back into the city and at a leisurely pace along the canals until they found themselves in the low light of the lantern by Audric’s door.

“Goodnight, Bellamy. Get some rest. I’ll pawn your numbers off on Karliah, this time.”

“Thank you.”

“And when next you decide to go gallivanting off to places you don’t belong, tell me.”

“Why, so you can try to stop me?” Audric chortled.

Gently, Brynjolf placed his hand on Audric’s neck, the pads of his fingers weighing against his skin. “So I can worry about you properly.”

Audric stood, in mild confusion, and watched until Brynjolf faded into the shadows before he finally turned and unlocked his front door.

Ulfric was sitting in the kitchen, writing in a journal. As Audric’s eyes found the points of him, his thoughts became a snarled tangle of like and dislike, of admiration and loathing, of pity and antipathy. Unknowing, Ulfric looked up from his work and even afforded him a slight, tentative smile. “Good evening.”

Audric nodded and passed into his bedroom. He slipped out of his armor out of eyesight. “I was expecting a lecture,” he admitted at length.

“Whatever for?”

“I was much longer than I said I’d be.”

Ulfric considered this in silence, thoughtful, discerning. “I was...troubled, by the protracted absence, but I saw you come up the south road.”

As Audric crawled into bed, he wondered what else Ulfric had seen; moreover, he wondered why it bothered him so.

"Seems like we might have to sneak around more often," Nikolai breathed, "if we want to have some time to ourselves."

Argis released his hold on the man's hair and captured his mouth with a smile. "We wouldn't be the first ones to do so."

"Too true."

Nikolai ran his hands over Argis' chest, wanting nothing more than to free him of his clothes. He decided against it realizing the man would be embarrassed beyond belief if they were to be caught, unlikely as it was. He bit at the man's lip as he slid his hands lower. Nikolai could feel Argis tense with the anticipation and heard the change in the man's breath. He smiled lazily as he found the warrior straining against his pants.

"Looks like you're more than ready to have a go," Nikolai said softly, running a hand along Argis' clothed length.

"I can't seem to help it right now."

A chuckle escaped Nikolai as Argis kissed his neck once more, "Well then, would you be willing to try something?"

"Perhaps."

Nikolai could hear the hesitation in Argis' voice. "You do owe me," he murmured, squeezing the man playfully.

Argis fought back a moan, biting the young man's shoulder in response. "That seems like an underhanded way to get what you want."

"Never said it was fair."

"Tell me what it is before I decide to take things into my own hands."

"I want you on your knees." Nikolai could see the blush of embarrassment rise quickly in the man's face as he pulled back. He met Argis' unsure gaze and smiled in hopes that it would reassure him. "I promise this won't be a horrible experience."

Argis' brow knitted in concern and for a moment he looked away. It felt like a lifetime of waiting for the seasoned warrior to respond but when he did Nikolai felt a wave of excitement wash over him. Argis slowly dropped to his knees and looked up at his companion. Nikolai slipped off the railing, eyes trained on Argis; this was a sight to behold. This well trained warrior, a man who, before that month, knew nothing about being with another man, was kneeling before him waiting for what was to come.

Nikolai told himself he needed to take this slow. There was no point in rushing it and little good would come from making Argis more uncomfortable than he was. 'Besides,' Nikolai thought, ' taking this slow will only make it better.'

D'Aw!

This gave Passerby!Anon all the warm fuzzies :)

“I’m letting you set the pace.”

Argis’ attention shifted from Nikolai’s face to what was at eye level. Nikolai watched him, his heart racing with anticipation. A shudder ran through his body as Argis ran his hands up his thighs. His hands trailed over the lacing of his pants, shaking slightly as they began to tug those laces free. Nikolai leaned against the railing for support fearing that his legs would give way soon enough.

For the briefest of moments Argis looked at Nikolai and the young Nord could see a hint of enthusiasm in the man’s glance. He let his head loll back, a moan caught in his throat, as he felt Argis’ hand finally slip beneath the material of his pants and pull him free. The motions were slow and unsure but the sounds of Nikolai’s heavy breathing and his hands seemed to bring Argis some form of confidence.

Nikolai wasn’t prepared for the warmth of man’s tongue and cursed loudly as Argis ran it along his length. He looked down at the warrior and for a moment he feared he would lose control right then. Argis was watching him, taking his cues from every sound and movement Nikolai made. Once more he ran his tongue over Nikolai and was rewarded with a moan.

The motions gradually became more sure but the pace remained slow as Argis seemed to gauging everything that he did. Nikolai would have given anything to know what was running through the man’s mind. He wanted Argis to enjoy this as much as he was. The last thing Nikolai wanted was for Argis to believe that this was some form of bribery or some twisted take on who was superior to whom.

“Are you enjoying this?”

There was a pause in Argis’ motions, the only response coming in the form of a timid nod and a new hue of red in the man’s face.

“S-show me.”

Without a word Argis trailed a hand down his body, fingers dipping beneath the waist of his pants. Nikolai wet his lips as the Nord revealed his own erection seeming harder than it had been minutes before. There was now little doubt in Nikolai’s mind on the subject, watching as Argis seemed rather reluctant to release his hold on himself.

“Think you could manage both?” Nikolai knew that even with lust coursing through his body Argis wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. In fact, he knew that it was all that was needed for the warrior to lose himself in the moment.

I can not wait that the two begin the adventure, I am sure that she will become very strong at the side of vilkas! and who knows if the others will discover her secret! but the secret of his companions ^?'d be curious to know how to discover this! great as ever

my beautiful writer here I am waiting your chapters! :) I read the whole story and honestly you turned me very curious! you soon!

curiosity for your story destroys me! updates soon! : D

Elisif is a very well written character here. It's going to be interested to see her evolve as she progresses through the story. More please?

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