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

I want a female Bard (of preferable Imperial descent) who is breaking taboos of music, creating new instruments and ways of playing music. I want her to join the Bard College only to be kick out for her innovations and breaking Nordic traditions. Down on her luck, she find few people interested in her music and is left to find other ways of income. After her struggles, she create a musical revolution of Skyrim and all of Tamriel!

I'm curious to know what will happen! Now there is so much tension between the two!

At dinner Ariella hadn’t sat with Vilkas. She had taken her position at the end of the table, reading a book. A book she hadn’t put down since picking it up after training with Farkas. Her training with Farkas had lasted most of the afternoon.

At dinner the Companions were just as loud and rowdy as ever but they could all sense the tension between Vilkas and Ariella.

Something had happened but none of them knew what and none of them wanted to ask.
As dinner went on and more mead was consumed a few of the companions got curious. Ariella didn’t hear the questions, or at least answer and Vilkas claimed he didn’t know what happened.

“Brother, I know something happened.” Farkas said in a low voice for the millionth time. “I can sense it.”

“Farkas, drop it.” Vilkas growled out. He was sure he knew why Ariella wasn’t talking to him; it was because he kept pushing her away and he couldn’t tell her why. Vilkas knew if he told his brother he would get the same advice he got from Kodlak.

The old man seemed to think he should tell her about the Beast Blood. He couldn’t just tell her though; someone like her would think him to be a monster. He was a monster.

“Vilkas, please.” Farkas pressed. Vilkas stood up abruptly to stop the questioning. Farkas frowned, afraid Vilkas was about to let his wolf get the better of him. Vilkas instead said nothing and walked away, leaving the mead hall and without a word to Ariella.

He had wanted to speak to her, but he would speak to her later. When they could be alone.

---

Vilkas was sort of surprised Ariella hadn’t gone down to his room after dinner and he fell asleep before he talked himself into going upstairs. He honestly didn’t think it had been that bad. He’d messed up; at least he thought so.

That morning Ariella had apparently trained with Aela and then went to talk to Skjor. Skjor and her talked for hours and hours. She would write in her journal every so often and Vilkas had to leave the mead hall when he couldn’t block out their chatter and laughter.

Then before dinner Ariella had gone to speak with Kodlak and Kodlak seemed oddly chipper at dinner. Vilkas left dinner early and went into his room. He was wallowing if he was honest with himself.

He was mindlessly scanning old maps looking for Ustengrav. They needed to locate the damned place before they left, or before she left. Maybe she wouln’t want him to go with her, but maybe he would have to out of necessity.

He was just about to give up for the night when the door opened slowly and Ariella poked her head inside.

“D-do you mind?” She asked quietly. Vilkas dumbly shook his head and cleared the maps and papers that were spread about his bed. He took a seat next to him and smiled. They both sat in an awkward silence for a bit neither knowing how to begin the conversation they desperately needed to have.

“I’m sorry if I’ve been acting odd these past two days.” Ariella started the ball rolling. Vilkas didn’t want to think it was all her fault, he was at blame as well. “I’ve been researching… some uh things. I just wanted to get it done before we left again and I wanted to train with Aela and Farkas while I had the chance.”

“Ariella, it’s not all your fault. I’ve been…” He didn’t know where to go with this now. In his head it was all worked out. He would explain the real meaning of the Beast Blood to her and she would either accept it or run away. Very rarely did she accept the reality in his mind. Yet now it came to actually saying it he couldn’t find it in him. He didn’t want to risk losing her over a part of himself that he already hated.

“Vilkas.” His attention was brought back to her, there was a small smile on her face. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready. I won’t be going anywhere.”

She gave him a quick kiss and before the beast could want to take control she pulled away and settled down beside him.

“So have you found Ustengrav yet?”

Soo... This is kindof supposed to be a continuation of this: skyrimkinkmeme.livejournal [DOT] com/4295.html?thread=6290375&#t6290375
Because I couldn't help myself. Whenever I tried writing anything else, I just kept thinking: What would Mania do? ... And so here it is. Ehehe.

Tags: kink:size, char:Jarl_Balgruuf, char:F!PC, race:Redguard, relationship:het

-----

Her breath was forced out of her lungs as she slowly sank down on his giant member. She could not get over how big he was, filling her to the point of bursting. His fingers dug into her behind, and his mouth was hot and wet on her neck. She felt him hit the furthest reaches of her as she sank down fully, and she stilled, needing a moment to regain her breath. He bit hard into her neck and rolled his hips, then lift her up and pushed her down on his shaft, successfully pushing the breath from her lungs again. She groaned and wrapped her arms around his neck, breathing was overrated anyways, and started moving with him. She was gasping, and would not deny whining as they kept at it, her insides burning with the need for release and the strain of him. She could forget how her knees chafed against his chair, and how her sore muscles strained, her focus was all on how he managed to deliciously fill her to the point of pain and have her a gasping, whining mess in his lap. She ground her hips - Talos she was so close - and pressed her mouth against his, his hand came up to her hair and he pressed them together, her whines and his groans muffled by the others' mouth. Breathing through her nose had been easy to begin with, but she had somehow forgotten how to do so along the road. She cried out as her orgasm approached with a giant's leaps, digging her nails into his back and moving her hips hard enough to make them both grunt in pain, and when she finally felt her nerves explode in a euphony of delight, her walls clenched so hard around him that she pushed him out of her with a deliciously wet sound, his seed spurting on the floor, what was not dripping out of her. She slumped into his lap, gasping for breath and leaned her forehead to his. She ran a hand down through the hair on his chest, visible through the gap in his robes. She did like how hairy all these Nords were.
They had to be, she decided, considering how cold it was here. As it was, his fair hair and skin made for a wonderful contrast to her dark hand - another perk with all these Nords. It was very colorful.

"So, Mania... Was there a dragon?" he murmured against her lips, and she chuckled in delight, hugging herself close to him. He was very warm and nice, a delightful remedy for the cold Skyrim weather.

"Mmmhmm... It's good and dead," she replied and nibbled the Jarl Balgruuf's bottom lip playfully. She moved a hand and tugged his beard lightly, making him chuckle quietly. It was a good beard, she decided. She leaned her forehead against his shoulder and sighed happily. Post-orgasmic bliss was the best bliss in the world, surely. "No talk of dragons now," she murmured, nuzzling her lips against his neck. His fingers dug into her generous behind, and he hugged her close to him.

"I concur. We can save that for later," he replied and she closed her eyes in relief.

It scared her to death, having absorbed the dragon's soul. Irileth had ordered her back to the Reach, and she had gladly returned, and after the sky had shook crying 'Dragonborn' and scared her half to death, she had needed a distraction from reality and happily proceeded to jump the Jarl in his chair. Luckily he had not objected, and he sent everyone in the hall away while she was working on getting access to his nether regions.

She promptly pushed dark thoughts away and focused on the man currently occupied with filling his hands with her behind. Which was mighty nice, especially since he had those giant hands to do it with.

"It's getting dark out," he murmured into her long and now very messy hair, and she sighed tiredly after a glance at one of the windows and nodded. She did not want to go back to present important happenings just yet.

"Could we perhaps retire to your assumedly most comfortable bed for the remains of the evening?" she asked and Alfhed the Jarl of Whiterun hummed in what she assumed was agreement. She pulled back and looked at him, smiling wryly at the tender look he gave her. Tender was all good and nice, but too much of it and real and important feelings would be involved sooner or later, and that could get messy fast. Especially when important people like Jarls were involved. She shook her head and pushed the dark thoughts to the back of her mind - she could contemplate such things later. She moved off of his lap and on legs still weak after her orgasm she started gathering up her clothes and put an assortment of them back on - enough to cover any vital parts anyhow. As she was done, Alfhed put his arm around her waist and they walked silently to his chambers. Considering how their voices had echoed in the great hall, there was really no need to keep up pretences. Not that she really cared.

-----

When inside Alfhed's bedchambers, Mania dropped her excess clothing on the floor and proceeded with removing the rest as well. Then she flopped down on his giant bed and sighed happily.

"I really should get me one of these..." she murmured into a very fluffy pillow, earning a chuckle from the Jarl. She heard the tell-tale rustling of cloth and the clink of buckles as he removed his clothes as well, and she turned on her side to watch him. He really was a sight to be seen - she was always astonished by how fit the Nords were. Even the shopkeepers and nobles. She missed pudgy men and women a bit. Skyrim was a harsh country to live in, to be sure. The Jarl soon joined her on the bed, resting his head in his hand as he watched her.

"So. Are you ready to tell me what happened at the Watchtower?" he asked, and she stiffened. Trying to act casual she rolled on her back, staring up at the roof of the bed. "Mania," his voice took a demanding tone, one she imagined got him his way most of the time. This time as well, it would seem. She sighed and placed her hands behind her head.

"Well. There was a dragon," she stated.

"I know. It was visible from here," he replied and reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. His hand was gentle, fingers trailing over her cheek and down her jaw and neck. "You are holding something back," he said. It was not a question, and she wondered if she had become that easy to read. She was getting soft.

"We killed it, but not before it had destroyed the tower," she took a deep breath. "And as it was... When it died, I absorbed... Something from the dragon," she added and dared a glance at the man. He watched her intensely, waiting for her to say more. Demanding that she say more. Since when did she give in to demands this easy? "The guards called me-"

"Dragonborn," he finished the sentence for her and she sighed again, and nodded slowly. "So it was you the Greybeards called for," he murmured, his voice taking on a slight tone of awe.

"I suppose," she muttered and groaned, proceeding with hiding under the covers. "Would anyone hold it against me if I did not go?" she asked, peeking out enough so she could watch him. He laughed and joined her underneath the covers, wrapping a strong arm around her and hugging her to him.

"They are probably not as dangerous as a dragon wanting to devour you whole," he murmured into her hair and she sighed again. She would go, of course she would, but while she had wished to climb the 7000 steps before, now she would rather save it for another lifetime. She had a feeling that she was getting in too deep, and she usually ran the other way when that happened. Except when it had came to her guild of course. But they were special.

Or perhaps she was really growing soft. Responsible. The thought made her shudder.

"I should probably leave tomorrow then. No point in making them Oldbeards wait overlong..." she muttered and looked up at him, then proceeded with running a hand through his chest hair.

"Greybeards," Alfhed corrected her, and she laughed.

"I like Oldbeards better," she looked at the dark window and sighed heavily. She might as well go all the way with this; if only to make sure there would be no feelings involved. Feelings were bad - especially when felt by a Jarl. "I'm a member of the Thieves Guild," she felt him stiffen next to her, and she glanced up at him, trying to read his reaction, but he had an amazingly neutral face. "A high ranking member. I had a huge deal in getting the Guild back on their feet, and if I have any say in the matter I will keep it standing," she looked down and drew small circles on his chest amongst the fair curly hair. "I'm not ashamed of what I do. I love it, I'm great at it, and I don't allow anyone of my fellow thieves to steal from someone who cannot afford to lose something," she moved back slightly to be able to see him properly. He wore a small wry smile and shook his head slowly.

"This is sort of my way of making sure there won't be... Feelings here," she motioned between then and the Jarl chuckled. "Feelings are bad," she added.

"Then there won't be any, if that is your wish," he replied with an amused snort. Very un-jarl-like snort, if she could say so. "I wouldn't object to some more canoodling though," he added and nibbled at her earlobe. She laughed and twisted to press herself against him, laughing some more as he groaned in what felt like delight. She twisted some more, and his slowly hardening member twitched against her stomach. Yes, definitely delight.

"I rarely say no to canoodling," she murmured and latched onto his neck. She would be tired and sore come morning, but at the moment she did not care. If she could forget about dragons and the world's problems for just a few more hours, it was worth it.

-----

Short because school is TIRING. TIRING I tell ya! And also because my imagination ran out. Tehe 8'3

your story is more and more intriguing! I can only imagine what Vilkas evidence in his heart! He is very troubled and would like to be honest with Ariella! And Ariella and Skyor of what they talked about!?

Aw, that's a shame. *runs to AO3 to drop some kudos*

I don't think I've ever written (or read) any of my series in chronological order, so I'm perfectly happy to enjoy whatever parts your Muses are inclined to share, in whichever order they like :)

And I'm just glad to know there's more on the way (I'm a selfish Nonny^^)

these two are more and more cute! I'm sorry that Vilkas think he's a monster!! I think eventually Ariella prove to him all her strength! leave him speechless! I look in my bunk!

ARGH. I love you, A!A!!! Even if that was an almost cliff hanger for an ending, the story was still amazing.

Ariella was drawing senseless patterns onto Vilkas’ chest. He had overcome his beast long enough so they could sleep together. They had to be quiet so they didn’t wake the other or alert them to what was going on.

They had found Ustengrav’s location the previous night and had already planned everything with Kodlak so they could leave in a day or so. VIlkas was sure part of the reason he’d been able to block his wolf out was because they had made up. During their little period of tension his wolf had been stronger than ever.

He tightened his arm around the small Breton.

“So what did you do before all this?” Vilkas asked. He’d never really asked Ariella about what she did before this. He knew about the library, sure, but he wanted to know what she studied, more specific things about it.

“Scholar, remember?” She smiled up him and he chuckled

“I meant what did you study before the Dragons?”

“Mostly boring things like old tales and legends. Dead cultures were an interest as well.”

“I hardly think that would be boring.”

“You’ve never tried studying the Akaviri in detail, or the Ayleids.”

“What about the Dwemer?” That was what Vilkas was most familiar with.

“I looked into the Dwemer but they never really interested me that much. Most of what they built was designed to kill you, no matter how magnificent it was.” Vilkas laughed again, he’d had to face a few Dwemer creations in his time.

“So what was life like here before I came along?” Ariella asked.

“Much the same but much more painful. I’m sure you’ve heard before how Aela and Farkas were always at each other’s throats.” Ariella laughed, he could feel her nodding. “Things were tense here for a while and only getting worse. I’m glad it’s better now.”

“I’m glad I wasn’t here when Aela and Farkas were fighting.”

“If you were here they wouldn’t have been. I’m still not sure what it is about you that brought them together but I’m glad it did.” A blush rose in Ariella’s cheeks and she turned away from him.

“Farkas and Aela seem… close.” Ariella said after a while. Vilkas raised an eyebrow. He knew what she was meaning but she had to be mistaken. They were close in the sense that they were pack, bound by blood but also by a childhood together. All the members of the circle had grown up together, spent their childhoods playing together; of course they were close. If Farkas felt anything more than that Vilkas would know, Aela would know… everyone would know.

Farkas was no subtle at all in what he wanted. He had gone after a few girls in his time and while he may have been a bit bashful at first he was very soon just as loud and brash as ever. Besides, Farkas told Vilkas everything and Vilkas hadn’t heard so much as a word about it.

“I don’t think so.” Vilkas chuckled. “Do you really think Farkas the type to hide his feelings?”

She considered this for a moment, “He does seem the type to shout his affections off the roof of Jorrvaskr for all Whiterun to hear.” Vilkas laughed and they continued their meaningless chatter until they could hardly keep their eyes open.

another little bit sweet! I like the way they talk! the description of Farkas is just how I imagine it! a bear softie!

A!A you amaze me. Serano's sociopathy, Romlyn's co-dependency, even Runa's *ahem* anti-social behaviour all makes sense in the world you've painted. I particularly found the wolf and his train of thoughts intriguing and fascinating, even though it was quite possibly the most brutal consensual sex scene I have ever read.

Serano really doesn't know how to live with people, and his "rescue" of Runa from Braith shows this perfectly - and the dragon's influence definitely doesn't help.

This is a magnificent story, good WriterAnon, and I do hope you don't leave the world of Romlyn and Serano for too long.

I will keep patientlt checking back on this fic! Can't wait to hear what Ulfric thinks about Audric breaking into the Embassy, and to hear them discuss THAT dossier...

Passerby!Anon begs for more! Pleasepleaseplease!!!!!!!

Vilkas’ wolf was slowly demanding control again. But this time it wasn’t out of want for Ariella instead it was a need to protect her.

They were walking through old corridors of an ancient tomb and Vilkas knew they weren’t alone. Not in the sense that there were undead, bandits or mages; all of which were there. But the mages lay dead as did the bandits and the drauger and skeletons didn’t give off the same heart beat and… fleshy smell the other person had.

He had detected her almost as soon as she entered the tomb. Vilkas let his wolf guide his nose as he sniffed her out. He could tell she was a female (obviously) and that she smelt of leather, smoke and… an inn. It was strange.

She was mostly silent but her heart was beating quickly. As if she was afraid of getting caught. Yet despite that fear she still followed, for whatever reason. Vilkas had not seen her so couldn’t size up the threat fully and because of that he was on high alert.

She didn’t seem to pose an immediate threat and so Vilkas didn’t point it out. Ariella didn’t seem to notice the other woman anyhow.

They soon were in a much larger part of the chamber. It was well lit too. Vilkas smirked, perhaps there would be no where for their stalker to hide. There were more skeletons and drauger in the room, which were cleared out fairly quickly.

“What way from here?” There were multiple hallways and a gate. Vilkas’ first bet was the gate.

“This way.” She took his hand and began leading him down a path. He trusted her and as they spiralled down they came to another word wall; this one well hidden by overgrown trees and other plant life.

“I swear you have a 6th sense for this.”

“Dragonborn thing I guess.” She cleared away some of the overgrown moss that covered the words and Vilkas reached out for Ariella when she began to sway on her feet.

He felt the magic in the air, his wolf growled at its presence and just as suddenly as it began it stopped. Vilkas wasn’t sure he would get used to the feeling, he wondered what if felt like for Ariella.

Ariella looked a bit ill but quickly she shook herself and was back to normal. “Alright, so I’m guessing the horn is behind that gate.” Vilkas declared, as they began walking back up.

“Only one way to find out.”

A few skeletons surprised them once they reached the gate and a quick survey of the area showed no lever or button, yet still they searched. The looked behind urns, pots, under benches in cracks in walls… but still nothing.

Giving up Vilkas leant back onto one of the three pillars that was outside the gate. Ariella was walking over to him when the stone shone red and there was the sound of a gate opening.

Vilkas could sense the magic, an ancient long forgotten magic.

“Three stones… three gates…” Ariella pondered outloud. Almost as soon as she wondered away from the stone the gate shut. “And you have to move incredibly quick to get through…”

Vilkas took a second to catch up to her but as she was lining herself up he knew was she was about to do. He just hoped she would be able to open the gates once on the other side.

“WULD!” The sound was deafening as ever and still quite comical. She was gone before his eyes, nothing more than a blur and sure enough as he looked through the bars she was safely on the other side.

She pulled a lever and Vilkas walked through.

“Hey I didn’t have to coax you into shouting that time.” Vilkas joked, she punched him lightly and smiled. They were about to continue walking when Vilkas’ senses were reminded of someone.

He stopped in his tracks and turned around, pulling a lever so the gates closed. Ariella raised an eyebrow at him.

“Saves drauger sneaking up on us.” He lied, she shook her head slightly and continued walking. Just as they were down the hallways Vilkas heard woman hit the bars in frustration and curse under their breath.

Reaching the Horn beyond that point was just about effortless. And horn safe in hand they decided to return home before making the climb up to High Hrothgar.

---
So I don't know if it bothered anyone else that Delphine somehow got the horn despite the fact you NEED to shout to get through but it really bothered me.
So yeah, main quest liberties taken again...
Still not sure whether I should bring the Blades in at all...

Pairings: Elisif/Torygg (past)
Relationships: het
Warnings/kinks: none this chapter
Summary: Haafingar has a necromancer problem, and its Jarl has had enough. However, Elisif may find that finally flexing her muscles may bring both benefits and a downside...

Erandur knelt before Mara's shrine in the Temple of Divines, hoping he passed for an ordinary worshipper. He'd spoken briefly to Rorlund who'd looked a bit confused at the name Maia before seeming to realise who he was talking about and reassuring him he'd go get her, and to make himself comfortable in the Temple in the mean time.

So here he was, praying quietly to Mara and hoping she'd come soon.

Footsteps on the Temple floor and then a cloaked figure kneeling beside him, the hood falling back to reveal red hair and a golden circlet.

“Hello!” Maia gasped, sounding a little out of breath but definitely pleased to see him. She'd had her armour repaired and cleaned up, but otherwise looked much as she'd done when he last saw her. “You made it! How was the journey?”

“A little rough but no bother,” Erandur replied, getting to his feet with a smile. “Maia, my friend, it's good to see you.” He held out his arms for a hug, which she gladly returned, happy smile on her face... and it was then that he noticed the steel plated Nord behind her, glaring at him and reaching for his sword.

“Maia, look out -,” he began and Maia turned around. To his surprise, she actually glared at the big Nord, tapping her feet.

“Bolgeir!” she snapped. “He is a friend, and a sworn priest of Mara! Stand down immediately!”

Bolgeir let his sword go and stood back, folding his arms but still glaring at Erandur, who was now a little puzzled. Clearly a bodyguard of some sort, so why call on him? Had to be something requiring a priest's assistance, but this city had the Temple itself and a Hall of the Dead. Why him in particular?

“Is he a friend of yours, Maia?” Erandur asked, wondering just what her situation was in this city. Rich, clearly, but he also had the sense she wasn't in charge of her own destiny. Was her father someone powerful, a controlling man who loved his daughter but also didn't like her risking herself? Maybe this was why she'd taken up mercenary work, to get some freedom.

“Bodyguard,” said Maia tersely. “Gods know why I need one in my own city with guards on every corner, but apparently it's dangerous for me to step outside alone. But there I go, talking about my problems. How are you, Erandur?”

“Very well, thank you,” Erandur replied, fairly bursting with questions by this point. “So, you needed my help.”

“Not here,” said Maia, lowering her voice as she glanced at the other visitors. “Come on, come with me. We need to talk.”

Erandur followed her out, that bodyguard of hers falling into step a few paces behind, not taking his eyes off Erandur. Something was very wrong here, in fact the entire city seemed on edge. Could be the war. Could be the trauma of having its High King murdered. Maybe even dragons. But Maia seemed like a different person here. Angrier and yet more vulnerable, if that made any sense. Back in Dawnstar, he'd worried for her physical safety but she'd seemed calm, even cheerful, most of the time. Even when he'd confessed about Vaermina and his history with the cult, she'd been angry briefly, even a little disappointed... but she'd sighed, forgiven him and told him as long as he wasn't still in league with Vaermina, it was fine. Everyone had their secrets after all. Something in the way she'd said it had made him wonder what her own might be... but he'd not felt confident enough to ask. Now he had a feeling they might be to do with this city.

She was heading towards the Blue Palace and what was clearly the upmarket end of town. Solitude's manor houses towered on either side and Erandur wondered which was hers. She finally halted just before the Palace itself.

“Erandur, I – I'm afraid I haven't been entirely honest with you,” she said, blushing furiously and not meeting his eyes. Secrets. He knew it. Well, she'd not turned him away after hearing his, and he doubted hers were worse.

“I see. What do you need to tell me, Maia? I hope you've not turned to worship of the Daedra,” he said, mock disapproval masking the curiosity. Her blush deepened and her shoulders hunched in guilt, and Erandur immediately wished he'd not teased her.

“Maia? What is it?”

“My name's not Maia!” she cried, finally looking at him with tears in her eyes. “It's Elisif!”

Elisif, Elisif, he knew that name. That was that poor girl whose husband Ulfric had killed, the one the Empire wanted to make High Queen. Elisif... who'd obviously live in Solitude, when she wasn't wandering Skyrim under a false name anyway.

“Sweet Lady Mara,” he whispered. “You're Jarl Elisif.”

Elisif nodded tearfully, wiping at her eyes. “I'm so sorry, Erandur. I didn't mean to lie to you but I can't use my real name in Stormcloak territory, Ulfric already tried to take me prisoner once!”

Well, no wonder she had trouble shaking that housecarl. The city must be terrified of losing its queen after what happened to the last ruler. The poor girl. The poor, poor girl.

“Elisif,” said Erandur, testing the name out and finding it came easily to him. It did suit her. “I won't say I'm not surprised, because I never thought the Jarl of Solitude would be hiding out in Dawnstar pretending to be a common mercenary. But I'm not angry. I understand why you might not tell everyone you meet when you're not in Solitude.”

Elisif smiled through her tears, looking quite pathetically grateful and not at all like a Jarl if he was honest. He had to wonder how old she was exactly. Quite young in human terms, he imagined.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Come on, come inside. Let's get you comfortable and then we can talk, is that all right?”

Definitely nothing like any of the Jarls he'd met. Erandur thought that was probably a good thing but all the same, he was starting to feel rather concerned for her. Back in Dawnstar she'd seemed a little inexperienced, but brave for all that. Here she was meant to be in charge but seemed like a frightened child. No wonder she'd needed his help. Erandur resolved to do all he could to make sure she didn't go the same way Torygg did.

~~~~~~~~~

She'd taken him inside, introduced him to her steward, Falk Firebeard, as a travelling priest of Mara, good friend and spiritual advisor of hers, who was staying as her guest for a few days. Falk had looked him over, a little disbelieving, but Erandur hadn't got where he was by not being able to read people.

“Lady Elisif needed someone to talk to about her relationship with Lady Mara after losing her husband. I'm helping her reconcile her feelings with Lady Mara's Divine Benevolence,” Erandur explained, folding his hands and bowing, hoping he looked appropriately pious. It worked. Falk's suspicions immediately eased.

“Of course, I imagine she probably does,” said Falk gently. “She's been so unhappy since Torygg died, someone with no other responsibilities but to listen to her might be just what she needs right now. Come with me, sir, I'll find you a bedroom. Do you need anything? A bath? Change of clothes? Food?”

All of the above had been more than welcome, although Elisif had told Falk to send him to her quarters for dinner, they'd eat there. And so here they both were, Erandur seated across a small table from Elisif as the servants poured their wine and left them to it, tucking into a gorgeous meal of roast pheasant. Far nicer than he deserved, but it would be rude to decline.

“So,” he began. “Now that we're alone, do you mind telling me what's going on? How'd a Jarl end up in Dawnstar?”

“This is a very long story,” Elisif sighed. “And it's a little unbelievable.”

“Try me,” Erandur said, leaning forward with a smile. People often said that about their problems, little realising that when you heard enough stories from people, it was amazing how the same themes kept cropping up time and again.

“All right,” said Elisif, leaning closer. “It all started with the dragons...”

Erandur listened, and while the story wasn't what he'd expected, not at all, it finally made sense of Maia the mercenary, with the top-notch gear, somewhat naïve fighting style and that odd ability to cast spells with her voice. Maia who was scared to death but wanted to do the right thing anyway, stronger and braver than she ever gave herself credit for. Maia who was Elisif, future Queen of Skyrim... and Dragonborn apparently. Able to kill dragons permanently and take their power.

“And now everyone seems to want a piece of me,” Elisif sighed. “Ulfric wanted me to join his cause – as if I ever would after what he did to Torygg! Rikke says half of Skyrim is suddenly joining the Legion, convinced I'm the gods' Chosen One. Falk seems to think I'm some fragile doll to be protected from the entire world while at the same time thinking I'm incapable of wielding any kind of power or making a decision. Everyone wants to control me and no one takes me seriously! Or even really sees me as a person at all. Every time I try to make a decision or give any sort of order, someone overrules me. I'm really quite sick of it, Erandur.”

“That does sound like a very hard place to be in,” said Erandur, feeling sorry for her. Truly, it was a lot for a young woman who'd never even asked for any of it.

“It is,” said Elisif softly. “But I'm Dragonborn and I'm going to be Queen and my people need me, so I'm not going to let them tell me what to do any more. If I have to prove it to them, I will. Only... I may have bitten off a little more than I can chew. Which is why I need your help.”

Erandur reached for his wine glass, having a feeling he was going to need it. “Yes, you mentioned some job the Jarl particularly wanted sorting out. What happened?”

So Elisif told him about how one of her people had reported disturbances at a certain cave once used by Potema the Wolf Queen. Now that was ominous. Very ominous.

“You know that certain rituals leave imprints on a place,” Erandur said, voice grave. “If that place was really used by Potema, chances are it still carries power, that's if there wasn't power there in the first place. Your man Varnius is right to be concerned.”

To his surprise, Elisif looked delighted.

“That's what I said!” she cried. “But Falk didn't think it was worth sending troops to deal with. So I said I'd go. Of course, he didn't like that either.” She actually grinned at that. Erandur felt a brief burst of sympathy for Falk... but only a brief one. Elisif was probably in the right over this one after all.

“And you want me to come with you,” Erandur guessed.

“Yes!” Elisif gasped, probably relieved she'd not had to actually ask outright. “I mean, if you want to. I mean, if there really are necromancers down there, you'll know how to deal with them, right?”

“I'll do my best,” Erandur promised. He'd seen his fair share of dark arts, it was true. Practised his fair share too. He'd been trying to do penance for it ever since. Helping Jarl Elisif wipe it out in her own Hold? Of course he'd help.

~~~~~~~~~~

The skeletons guarding the entrance were the first clue. Then the Draugr wandering around. Then the necromancers sitting around a fire, and then several more and some Draugr arrived. Elisif was just thankful she'd found the ledge above the cavern and could snipe some of them from there first before joining the melee. As it was, she had to sit down afterwards while Erandur healed her wounds.

“Do you want to go back?” Erandur asked quietly. “That was a hard fight. There's likely to be more too.”

“Yes, which is why I'm not stopping,” said Elisif grimly, flexing her arms, testing her strength against Erandur's healing job. “I don't know what they're doing down here, but it can't be anything good. We need to press on while we still have the element of surprise – they'll soon know their friends are dead.” She still wasn't used to the idea of killing people or being around dead bodies, but it was starting to bother her less. Especially necromancers. They made her skin crawl. Re-animating the dead, harvesting their souls – it was monstrous, absolutely unnatural. Elisif didn't object to collecting animal souls, they wouldn't have much of an afterlife anyway. But humans? Sentient beings? Absolutely not. There weren't many people Elisif could honestly say deserved to die but necromancers were probably among them.

They pressed on until they found the pit. It looked just about safe to jump down, and there were more lights and noises coming from it.

“This is it,” Elisif whispered. “No going back. You ready?”

Erandur was. They jumped.

~~~~~~~~~~

At the bottom of the pit was a tunnel, leading to a cave, containing more ruins, the remains of a fort and yet more necromancers and their Draugr. Right up on top of the tower, glowing purple light and chanting indicated a ritual was afoot.

“I knew it,” Elisif whispered. “Look at this! What do you think they're doing?”

Erandur placed a finger to his lips and motioned for her to listen.

“Wolf Queen! Hear our call and awaken! We summon Potema!” the ritual leader called out, voice ringing around the cave.

“We summon Potema!” the chanting acolytes echoed. Elisif only just stopped herself crying out.

“This is worse than I ever imagined,” Erandur murmured, horrified, and Elisif guessed he'd heard of Potema too – well, who hadn't? She was one of the most evil necromancers of all time, and powerful too. And these idiots were trying to summon her from the dead?

“Should we go back, get help?” Elisif whispered, remembering her promise to Falk to come and get reinforcements if there was something worse than bandits there. Well, this was definitely worse.

“I don't think we can,” Erandur murmured. “It'd take hours to climb out of that pit. And the ritual's already under way. We don't have time to go back. We need to deal with this or Potema will be coming back to life.”

When he put it like that...

“Well, she's not having her throne back,” Elisif snapped. “I'll fight her for it first. There's only room for one Queen of Solitude in Skyrim and it's not her!”

“Well said,” said Erandur, readying his mace. “Let's go bring Mara's light to some necromancer filth, shall we?”

Elisif wasn't entirely sure Mara's teachings were meant to encompass quite as much bludgeoning as Erandur seemed to enjoy, but all the same, help was much appreciated.

“Let's,” she whispered, unshouldering her greatsword and preparing to charge. This Queen of Solitude had a pretender to put down.

~~~~~~~~~~~

It didn't take long for someone to realise they were there, and soon all the Draugr were on alert, along with the more junior mages accompanying them. Erandur's magic arced through the air while Elisif gritted her teeth and dodged the magic coming back at her, Shouting her opponents down and finishing them before they could fight back. Not honourable, no, but Arngeir's words never left her – using the Thu'um against a weaker opponent to save your own skin was bad but evening the odds against a stronger one was fine. And she had to live, she had to, Skyrim needed her to fight dragons and she was damned if she was going to die before she'd had a chance at Ulfric. So the Draugr died and the necromancers died, even if some of the necromancers did look awfully young.

Elisif rounded the final leg of the spiral staircase leading up to the ritual itself. The ritual leader ignored her, still focusing on the strange orb that seemed to be the focus of the ritual, but she clearly knew Elisif was there because she wasted no time ordering her two companions, a man and a woman, after her. All three Nords, and that was a true disappointment, didn't her fellow Nords have more sense? Apparently not.

“Captain Aldis!”

Aldis looked up, feeling both surprise and a hint of dread. Of all the people he'd expected to see or hear from today, Jarl Elisif in person wasn't one of them. Hadn't she just gone on some trip inspecting her Hold without even a housecarl for company? Mainly because the last housecarl that had gone out travelling with her had been killed by Stormcloaks, and Elisif had been dead set on no one else dying because of her ever again. Apparently she might have changed her mind.

“Jarl, this is a surprise. What can I do for you?”

“I need men,” Elisif said without any preamble. “Any you can spare. We've got a problem.”

Well yes, Skyrim had problems all over, but he couldn't just send men out after the Jarl without a bit of planning, not to mention the General's likely reaction.

“Jarl, we're very stretched thin because of the war, especially after you asked me to send extra men to Dragon Bridge...”

“Well call them back,” Elisif snapped. “I sorted out the problem at Wolfskull Cave, we don't need them guarding the town any more. We've got another problem. There's a necromancer at Kilkreath Ruins, desecrating the bodies of Skyrim's war dead and harvesting their souls to build an army. I'm going in there and I'm going to stop him, but I need soldiers, captain! So I need every true-hearted soldier in the Haafingar Guard who's capable of wielding a blade and...”

The soldiers who'd been practising out in the yard had all put down their weapons, turning to listen to their Jarl who everybody now knew was Dragonborn, and they'd all gone pale at the idea of Nord war dead being cheated of Sovngarde by some necromancer.

“We're with you, Jarl!” one cried.

“Ready when you are, Dragonborn!” shouted another.

“We'll teach him to mess with Nords!” called a third. By this time, an entire group had gathered, all waving their swords in the air and shouting approval of this plan, and Aldis realised that if he didn't take charge of this situation, they'd all be following Elisif out of Solitude wherever she led them.

Of course, Aldis was also a true Nord himself and the idea of some necromancer right here in Haafingar keeping his people from Sovngarde... no. So seeing as the Jarl herself was giving the orders...

“All right soldiers, gather your weapons,” Aldis roared. “We move in fifteen, go!”

Elisif watched them all mustering with commendable efficiency, turning to Erandur in amazement.

“They did it!” she whispered. “You were right! They're doing what I tell them, look!”

“See?” said Erandur, patting her shoulder and grinning. “It's all in the voice, Elisif. You just have to stay firm and sound like you know what you're talking about. And honestly, you've probably seen more necromancers than they have by this point.”

This was true, and Elisif still shuddered to think of what she'd seen going on in Wolfskull Cave and Vaermina's Temple. No more of this. She wasn't exactly a Meridia worshipper per se... but dealing with people who interfered with the natural order of life and death and stopped Nords who'd fought hard going to Sovngarde? That she was quite happy to do.

~~~~~~~~~~

“What in the name of the Eight were you thinking?” Tullius shouted across the Blue Palace's throne room. Two days since she'd got back from Kilkreath telling stories of necromancers and corpse desecration and commandeering a squad of troops to investigate, and the Legion were still clearing up the mess. There must have been about fifty bodies in there from both sides, all so badly mangled that it was likely they'd never be identified, and Styrr was still busy reconsecrating them and giving them an honourable burial in the Hall of the Dead. There was already talk of a memorial being erected at Kilkreath itself to those butchered by Malkoran. It was all very public-spirited, but Tullius was about ready to wring Elisif's neck.

“General, he was harvesting souls and desecrating bodies, he had a whole troop of corrupted shades at his command!” Elisif protested from her throne. “I can hardly let that go unchecked, not in my own Hold!”

A valid point, it had to be said, and the necromancer activity had turned out to be quite genuine in the end, but nevertheless there was a point to be made here. Especially since Tullius had started getting reports of wilder tales of the gods sweeping Elisif up into the heavens afterwards and anointing her with a Divine mission to sweep out corruption and gifting her with a golden sword of fire to do it with. Said sword was at Elisif's side right now, actually glowing, and the young Jarl looked apologetic but not actually remorseful.

“Yes, yes, Elisif, I agree you need to maintain order in your Hold, I accept that,” Tullius sighed. “And yes, in this case, I agree you needed troops to help you, this Malkoran sounded like a dangerous man. But Lady Elisif, you can't just start commandeering troops when you feel like it. There's forms to complete, a process to follow...”

“And in the mean time, my people die?” Elisif snapped. “Look General, I'm very sorry for the short notice, but I needed those troops and...”

“They're Legion soldiers!” Tullius snapped back. “You are not part of the Legion!”

“No, I'm the bloody Jarl!” Elisif shouted, getting up. “And I'm going to be High Queen and you'd do well to remember that, General!”

“When Ulfric and his rebellion have been put down, yes!” Tullius hit back. “Not before! And whose troops are you relying on to do that for you, Elisif? Are you capable of raising your own army to fight Ulfric?”

Elisif said nothing, glaring at him, mouth set in a thin line as she folded her arms. When she finally did speak, her voice was cold and authoritative in a way he really wasn't used to hearing from her.

“The way I hear it, General, ever since I found out I was Dragonborn, half your army is composed of recruits who joined because they're ready to give their lives for a Dragonborn Queen who's clearly been picked by the gods themselves in their eyes. Maybe the Legion swears its loyalty to the Emperor, but there's an awful lot of Nords in that Legion who'd follow me to Oblivion and back. Don't you ever forget that, General.”

How could he? These days it seemed every other recruit was a wide-eyed Nord there to avenge the true High Queen, the Chosen of Akatosh. On the one hand, the extra recruits were good to have, as was the public relations victory – winning the hearts and minds of Skyrim's people would be key to this war and having their High Queen turn out to be this Dragonborn was proving useful. On the other hand, ever since she'd got back from her trip to these Greybeards she'd been... different. Less biddable. Unpredictable. Out of control. Liable to upset all Tullius' carefully laid plans. This could have the potential to make life very very difficult for them all.

“No, Elisif, I quite understand, many Nords want you as Queen, and I do appreciate that, I really do,” Tullius sighed. “But if Ulfric had attacked and half our troops had been off with you down some cave or other, the city could have been in trouble, couldn't it?”

Elisif did look away then, conceding that point at least. “Yes, General,” she sighed. “I suppose you're right.”

“Good,” said Tullius, not entirely convinced there weren't going to be any other incidents but he supposed this was the best he was going to get. “Don't get me wrong, Jarl, I absolutely agree that you need to keep order in your Hold, and I don't even think what you did was so wrong in itself. Only we have a war to fight and I need those soldiers. So next time you need to go on some crusade, you talk to me first and I'll see what we've got available. Is that agreeable to you, Jarl Elisif?”

“Yes, General,” Elisif said softly, lowering her eyes. Tullius nodded, deciding this conversation was finished and took his leave.

Elisif watched him go, calm enough on the outside, but inside she was seething. Stupid little man with his petty little problems... she was a damn Dragonborn! She could take Ulfric, she was sure of it, one strike with Dawnbreaker and a swipe with her axe and the entire war would be over. Of course, that would first mean getting into Windhelm and past all his soldiers, and then there'd be the little matter of getting out alive afterwards. She wouldn't be able to manage that without an army behind her and who else's did she have? Just the Legion.

Of course, if she did kill Ulfric and then get killed by his men in revenge, at least she'd get to go to Sovngarde and be with Torygg again. That wouldn't be a bad thing either, in fact there was a part of her hoping it could be so.

But not just yet. For now her people needed her. More to the point, she'd had a letter from the Thalmor Embassy, an invitation to Elenwen's next party. Elisif steeled herself for it. This party was not going to be an easy one.

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

A/N: A short one, but it does set up future events, plus it also gets her Dawnbreaker. Every self-respecting Dragonborn needs a Dawnbreaker. :)

Next chapter is Diplomatic Immunity, and I think you will enjoy it greatly.

AWESOME!!! I want more of this group - I loved how they all worked together and the POV of the innkeeper was fabulous.

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