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

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Joldi edged close enough to take his hand and squeeze it, but she didn't interrupt with any questions or anecdotes of her own. She seemed to understand that he wasn't done and if she said something now that he wouldn't be able to finish.

"I've always felt a great deal of guilt running from Nightcaller Temple and leaving my friends to die. I'll never forgive myself for that," Erandur said after a long silence. "I should have stayed down there with them. I should have been brave enough, dedicated enough to them-if not Vaermina-to brave the Miasma. You can't call someone 'brother' and then abandon them the first sign of hardship.

"After running from Nightcaller Temple, I wandered Skyrim for years until I was taken in by a priest of Mara who lived in Morthal," Erandur remembered with a bitter smile. "I had the worst nightmares the entire time. Vaermina's punishment, you see. I had ran away because I couldn't face the thought of enduring the Miasma's torments, and Vaermina decided to visit that very punishment onto me every night. You have to appreciate a daedric prince's sense of humor at times."

Joldi wrapped her arms around Erandur and hugged him as she wiped the tears away from his face. He rested his head on her shoulder, enjoying the soft cloth of the dress she had changed into after they had set up camp.

"After I accepted Mara's embrace, I stopped having the nightmares, but I knew I had to right the last wrong I had done. That's why I went back to Nightcaller's Temple," Erandur said when he could continue. He looked up into Joldi's shining green eyes. "I don't know what persuaded you to assist me when we met in Dawnstar, but I'm glad you did. I never would have been able to face those trials on my own. I was able to finally put my friends to rest and to remove the Skull from the mortal plane." He rubbed his head, trying to chase away the headache that was starting. "Unfortunately, I've started having the old nightmares again. They always leave me feeling irritable and disconnected."

"Is it Vaermina again?" Joldi whispered grimly.

"No," Erandur chuckled sourly. "I'm a mortal and all mortals dream, whether it be pleasant or horrid. I just can't let go of my greatest regret. I ask myself over and over if I have truly earned penitence. Can I ever repay the debt of betrayal? Am I a good man?"

"You are a good man," Joldi said firmly. "In the time we've known each other, I've seen nothing by kindness and compassion from you."

"It's easy with someone like you as a companion," Erandur said, blushing at Joldi's praise.

"I'm no innocent," Joldi snorted. "I've done my fair share of things I've regretted in my past, I promise you." She paused, nibbling her lip as she decided on what to say next. "I know a very wise…" Her hesitation was barely noticeable. "...Greybeard who talked to me once about morality. He posed to me a question that I find myself thinking about frequently. 'What is better: to be born good, or to overcome your evil nature through great effort?' He had been the general of a war that had caused the deaths of thousands of people. He realized at some point that his side's philosophy was wrong and rebelled to help save the people he had previously helped terrorize. It was a long time ago, but he is still trying to find salvation. I like to think someday he'll realize his worth, just like I think you will."

"Thank you, Joldi," Erandur said, "but you don't know the horrible things I did."

"I don't need to," Joldi insisted. "I know what kind of person you are now. Besides, I wouldn't have a crush on someone who was bad." She paused as she realized what she said, blushing a pretty pink in the fire light.

"You have a crush on me?" Erandur stammered. That would explain her reaction earlier when he snapped at her.

"Yeah, well, I sort of have a bit of a preference for priests," Joldi giggled nervously. "I sort of have one back in Whiterun waiting for me."

"Oh," Erandur said dejectedly. He should have known someone as special as Joldi already had someone.

"It's okay, we're not exclusive," Joldi purred as she leaned over Erandur. "He has a vow of chastity, but I never made such promises and made it very clear before I left out. No one has any claim on me more than I'm willing to give."

"Is...is that so?" Erandur asked, swallowing hard. It felt too warm with her body pressed so firmly against his.

"It is. So, if you have any reason for me to stop what I'm doing," Joldi said as she tugged at the priest robes Erandur wore, "you better say something now. I also have a thing for bad boy rebels and you seem to fit that too."

"Absolutely none at all," Erandur answered. "Mara is love after all."

"Indeed," Joldi agreed before claiming the Dark Elf's lips. Her mouth was just as full and soft as he thought it would be as she tasted him.

Her weight settled heavily on his lap as she hiked his robes over his hips. For a moment he thought she would go ahead and pull it over his head, but instead she slipped her hands under the cloth to touch his bare chest. Calloused fingers danced over his muscles and scars, tracing the curve of each one as if memorizing them so she could ask about them later.

Once she was sated with exploring his chest, Joldi wrapped one hand around Erandur's waist as the other tangled in his hair. "Erandur," she moaned seductively in his ear before nibbling the lobe. The timbre of her voice was enough to send shivers down his spine, but the flickering of her tongue against his sensitive ear tip had his breathing jagged.

"Joldi," he whispered back, his voice trembling slightly. It had been a long time since he had lain with anyone and he felt like he barely remember what to do. Not sure what to do with his hands, he settled with placing them on her bottom, squeezing the deliciously round flesh. The Dragonborn's small gasp of pleasure before she started grinding against him gave him confidence to continue.

"I want you," she growled, suddenly impatiently pawing at his pants. "Oh, by the Nine, I want you in me so badly, Erandur. Please."

As eager as he was, he wasn't quite ready for her yet. Not wanting to disrupt the mood, the priest grabbed her wrist and pushed so he rolled on top of her.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Joldi demanded. Her curly red hair flared around her like a burning flame. She frowned prettily as she mildly struggled in his grasp.

"Being a bit of a rebel," the elf teased as he bunched her arms in one hand. "I thought you liked that."

"There's a time and place for everything," she pouted. However, she did stop struggling and her green eyes twinkled with curiosity, so she couldn't have been that vexed.

Erandur laughed before kissing her lips as a sort of apology. Joldi nipped his lip gently, but there was a smile as he pulled away. He trailed kisses down her throat as his free hand reached between her legs to pull her small clothes off. "What the…?" he muttered when he found nothing there. "Do you normally not wear underclothes?"

"A girl can hope and be prepared for anything," Joldi murmured demurely, unable to hide her smirk.

"I think you've got a bit of a bad girl streak yourself," Erandur mocked.

"Never said I wasn't," Joldi shot back.

"I'll keep that in mind," Erandur said as he settled between her legs. The sharp musk of her sex filled his nose, making his mouth water with desire to taste her. He slid his hands under her ass to better position her before pressing his tongue against her slit.

Joldi was already wet and swollen with arousal, but as Erandur lapped against her nub, he reveled in her cries of pleasure. The Nord chanted his name over and over as she writhed under him. Strong fingers dug into his scalp as she pulled on his hair.

All this only encouraged the elf to press his face harder against her as he slipped two fingers inside. Joldi screamed as she wrapped her legs around his neck, locking her ankles hard against his back. She thrashed wildly as he flickered his tongue against her while his fingers stroked her sex.

"Oh, sweet Mara!" Joldi cried. "Oh, Talos! Fucking Dibella! By the Nine, Erandur, I'm coming!" The Dragonborn continued to rant various curses and praises as she came undone beneath him. Panting breathlessly, she scowled, "You are absolutely rotten."

"I'm not even close to done," Erandur taunted. He threw her over a nearby log. "I haven't gotten my due yet."

"Eek!" Joldi exclaimed, her feet kicking in the air. He freed his aching erection. The sight of Joldi's white, plump ass wiggling in the air was making him throb with desire.

Erandur plunged within her until he was fully hilted against her. Joldi cried as he filled her. She clutched the log as she looked over her shoulder at him. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes a bit glazed. "What do you think you're doing back there, old man?"

"I'm going to fuck you senseless, young lady," he growled as he grabbed a handful of her luxurious hair. He pulled tight, jerked her head back so she was arched against him. He bit her neck, leaving a red mark bright against her pale skin. "And you're going to like it."

Her groans and cries invigorated him as he thrust hard into her without abandon. Erandur hadn't felt this unrestrained for a long time. The feeling of her walls clenching around his cock, the slick wetness of her arousal running down their legs, the soft flesh of her breasts in her hand as he squeezed her. All of it was intoxicating as Erandur fucked her.

"Gods, Erandur, yes, like that, yes, don't stop, please, please fuck me harder!" Joldi screamed. She was almost face first in the snow. If the cold bothered her, she didn't let it show as she writhed harder against his thrusts. It probably felt amazingly good given how flushed her flesh felt against his. Erandur felt like he was burning up in his robes, but he couldn't stop long enough to rip them off.

With a guttural growl, Erandur came. His orgasm was so intense, he almost wasn't sure he would be able to finish it. His balls retracted hard against him as he peaked. He gasped as the pleasure almost became too painful to bear, but he rode Joldi until his seed was fully spent.

He slumped against her, his breathing erratic and his heart beating too fast. But he felt relaxed and satisfied in a way he hadn't in years.

Wearily, Erandur slipped his hand between Joldi's legs to help bring her to completion at least manually, but was surprised when she swatted him away.

"You didn't come," he commented as he rolled onto his back.

"Not the second time," she agreed, panting herself, "but that first time was more than enough. I'm actually a bit overly sensitive right now. I don't think we'd get anywhere if you tried."

"You should have said something," Erandur said contritely. "I wouldn't have…." He trailed off, suddenly too shy and flustered to continue.

"Ridden me so hard?" Joldi laughed, unabashed. "There's not enough septims in the world to have made me stop you then. I wanted to see what you had in mind and it was well worth the soreness I'll feel there tomorrow."

Erandur flushed from the comment. "I, uh, I'm sorry," he stammered, the tips of his ears flushed dark with embarrassment.

"Take the compliment for what it is," Joldi said, kissing his cheek. She snuggled against him. "I love you, you know."

"I love you too," Erandur said, kissing her temple. He had never said it before, but this was comfortable territory at least. It wasn't just a romantic love, but the love of friends and family. Mara's love. And that he knew all about.

"Ugh, I feel gross," Joldi complained as she wiggled out of her dress. Despite being completely naked, she didn't seem to mind the cold. She yawned, her mouth a wide maw. "I'm going to nap and then I'm going to see what else you have in you."

"I guess I'm not going to get much sleep tonight either," Erandur playfully lamented.

"Probably not, but at least when I finally let you sleep, it will be well," Joldi teased, sticking her tongue out at him as she snuggled against him and pulled the furs closer. "It's wonderful to be able to sleep soundly, don't you think?"

As he made his own place next to Joldi and closed his eyes for a blissful nap, Erandur couldn't agree more.

OP here! Thank you so much for this delicious fill! It's beautifully written and the smut was so hot! It's everything I wanted and more! This OP is very, very pleased. <3

The build up here has been great, dying in anticipation of what comes next!

Jesus I've felt hella bad writing this but I'm just going to finish it, cry a little bit later, and then do more fluff and introduce my new pairing that was prompted in the middle of this fic. But it's over and I go back to writing happy stuff.

Passing out, of course, would be too easy. The bitter resignation had set in a fair while ago, and the determination to wait for her chance at revenge was placed right alongside it. Her body was still too strung out to attempt to answer the raging call of her beast blood, and she was being threatened with the very real possibility of choking to death- not really the story she wanted to tell when asked how she died. The fact that she'd made stupid mistakes really burned; it would have been one thing if she'd been doing what she was suppose to and still found herself in this situation. That it could have been completely avoided if she'd not been making stupid mistakes and getting arrogant? The knowledge burned more than her throat.

Lost in the confines of her wandering mind, Nora abruptly found herself ripped back to the present as the Nord withdrew from her completely; while she couldn't exactly find it in her to complain, she didn't trust it- and being held in place as she was, it was impossible for the girl to turn her head and see what in the world he was doing. The not knowing was almost worse- at the very least, while the Nord was violating her, she knew what was going on. Being unable to see him in her peripheral irrationally was the worse alternative because Aedrea only knew what he was intending to do.

Ask, and you shall receive. Nora squealed as her apprehensions proved to be well founded; there was an incessant prodding at her rump, and the Nord's body tried to lock down on itself and keep the intruder out. All she achieved was a sharp slap to her ass, eliciting another squeal as the prodding became more insistent.

“Fight me all you want; I'm gettin' in yer ass one way o' another.”

Her blood running cold, the Nord still struggled in vain to salvage this last shred of her dignity. Of course, there was no where for her to go- try as she may to call her beast blood to the surface, and try as it may to surface from her, Nora's body simply couldn't do it.

There was no preparation, no warning- that initial protest was the only acknowledgment her body received for what was to come.

She didn't pass out, and she didn't scream. She shut down completely- Nora was in her happy place. As though her mind was a completely separate entity from her body, she was aware of the biting and the hair pulling and the way her skin reddened so easily when they hit her, but didn't feel it. She was numb.

Eventually they finished with her- Nora still counting the seconds until her body would allow her to shift again.

They threw her in the cage next to the grimy blond before she had recovered enough to shout at them. For all the good it would of done- she wouldn't be able to take out all three at one time and if nothing else when they dragged her back out she could shift and make it out alive.

Plotting and being full of anger and frustration though, didn't change the fact that she was exhausted. Hurt. Aching. She was asleep before the door even shut.

When her eyes opened once more, it was to the feel of being shaken. Alarmed, she started to shout before registering the terrified look of the woman in front of her, making worried gestures to keep quiet. Following her gaze, Nora saw that the men were sleeping.

When she looked back at the blond, she was holding a lock pick. “Do you know how to use this?” Her voice was raspy, probably not used to talking.

Nodding, Nora's eyes lingered on the piece of flint, knowing what it signified. Freedom. “Do you think you can pick that lock without breaking it?” Nodding again, she tried to reach for it, almost entranced. Her hands wouldn't fit through the bars though. A small look of reluctance crossed the other woman's face before passing it to her. “I don't have another- you only get one chance. You get out of here and you run.”

“What about you?”

“What about me? I have nothing left.”

“I'll get you out.”

“That's what the last girl said. She didn't listen, and now she's dead. Get out and don't come back.”

Dread filled her gut. Everything ached- probably not as bad as it would have if Nora had still been human, but enough that she felt it in every movement. Pausing before actually attempting to pick the lock, Nora swallowed.

It took longer then it should have, but she was being careful- Nora couldn't afford another fuck up. Yes, Aela (and no doubt the other Companions) would come kicking down the down if she took too long, but what would happen in the mean time?

One click, and Nora could have cried. The door swung open with a small creak but the men still laid sleeping.

Casting another look at the blond, Nora's nerves were finally coming back. “I'm Nora. I'll come back for you- with friends.”

The woman shook her head, clearly not believing her. “Helene. Now go.” The words were faint whispers, though Nora heard them well enough with her sensitive hearing.

She ran. A small part of her was still traumatized by the power play forced on her. Once she was outside, she shifted, the inner wolf didn't even hesitate. She didn't try to kill the men. She didn't try to crack down the cage.

She was scared and she ran and Nora would feel awful when shifting back, but she would make sure that Helene got out too.

Feeling nothing but the cold air biting at her bones, the burn of oxygen starved muscles and adrenaline coursing through her, she ran back home.

A/N: Hello again, sorry for the hiatus, Thicker Than Blood ran away with me. But I do have a chapter of this ready, so here goes! I have skimped on Blackreach a bit, I'm afraid, but it is here. Instead, I filled the chapter out with a joint Blades-Forsworn attack on Rise In The East. Warnings for blasphemous and heretical blood magic rituals as one master illusionist battlemage comes up against a whole faction of them...

Summary: Elisif's got her crown but a crown's no good if the world ends, and it's time to go looking for that Elder Scroll. Meanwhile, Elisif's allies are putting their plans into action as the preliminary phases of the assault on Windhelm get under way...

Nightgate Inn loomed up in the darkness, the agreed rendezvous for meeting up with Erandur and Aranea to see if they'd learned anything. Elisif hoped so, because other than the College, there weren't many other places where the location of an Elder Scroll might be recorded.

Thankfully, Erandur and Aranea were sitting at a table, looking like they'd just arrived, and from the magical artefacts on the table in front of them, it looked like they'd got somewhere.

“I can't believe you're in favour of helping him!” Aranea hissed.

“He's a lonely soul in need,” Erandur said firmly. “Why not help him out?”

“Because he's completely insane!” Aranea cried. Erandur just shrugged.

“All the more reason to show compassion. Mara would have us be kind and understanding to the afflicted. I believe Azura's teachings say something similar?”

“Showing understanding to the afflicted, yes, not encouraging their delusions!” Aranea growled. “Erandur, he's a Daedra worshipper!”

“So are you!”

“Don't you dare bring Lady Azura into this...”

Elisif stepped into the light before this escalated any further, Ria at her side, Vilkas at her back and Farkas bringing up the rear. Erandur sat up as he felt a shadow fall over him and Aranea actually gasped to see her. Elisif realised she was still wearing the Jagged Crown. She'd got so used to the weight, she barely noticed it after a bit. Hastily she took it off and sat down, placing the Crown on the table. Erandur ran a finger along one of the teeth.

“Now that's a prize. Are those real dragon teeth? Where did you find it?”

“Korvanjund,” Elisif said, still feeling excited and proud every time she saw it. “It's the Jagged Crown! The legendary lost crown of the kings and queens of old! Ulfric was after it, but now I've got it! Isn't it lovely?”

“She's been like this since she got it,” Vilkas said wearily as he took a seat opposite Elisif. “Every five minutes it's been 'I've got a dragon crown, I've got a dragon crown, isn't it shiny?'” Vilkas rolled his eyes, before neatly dodging back as Elisif smacked his arm.

“It is shiny!” Ria said, smiling as she sat next to Vilkas. “You look like a proper Dragonborn in that, Elisif.”

Elisif wrapped a protective arm around her Crown. Yes, yes she did, and the only way anyone was taking it off her was from her cold corpse.

“It's my crown, and I will treasure it always,” Elisif said proudly. “Now. What did you find out and what...” There were two things sitting on the table, one square box and one spherical object. Both looked magical and possibly Dwemer, but Elisif hadn't a clue what they were. All she knew was that they weren't Elder Scrolls. “What are these?”

“That's a Dwemer Lexicon cube. That's some sort of tuning sphere,” Aranea sighed. “Apparently we need them to find the Scroll.”

“Well, that's good, right?” Elisif said hesitantly. Erandur patted her hand gently.

“Of course it is. We had the good fortune to find the world's leading expert on the Scrolls, and he gave us these, saying there was one right here in Skyrim and to use these to find it.”

Which all sounded good to Elisif... until Aranea opened her mouth.

“He's a worshipper of Hermaeus Mora, quite, quite mad, and this Elder Scroll's at the bottom of a dangerous Dwemer ruin. Azura's visions mostly showed you being successful, with the Jagged Crown and everything, but there were a few futures where you died horribly and were eaten by the Falmer.”

“Oh gods,” Elisif said faintly, and honestly she was relieved that Farkas turned up at that moment with the drinks. She really could do with some mead after hearing this.

“Who got eaten by the Falmer?” Farkas asked, handing everyone a bottle of ale each.

“Possibly me if this goes wrong,” said Elisif, shivering. “Farkas, we found out where the Scroll is. It's at the bottom of a Dwemer ruin.”

“Oh. Those,” Farkas said, grimacing. He'd been in enough to know what usually lurked down there. “Not to worry, we'll help. When do we leave?”

“We, is it?” Vilkas queried, raising an eyebrow. “We're all going?” He noticed Ria glaring at him and relented. “Oh all right, fine, if Farkas and Ria are going, I suppose I better had too. Keep you both out of trouble.”

Elisif couldn't help but smile on learning she'd have the Companions with her at least.

“Thank you,” she said. “Erandur, did you want to come? I'll understand if you'd rather not.”

“What, and explain to Delphine I left you to trek off into danger alone? No fear, I'm with you.”

Which just left Aranea, sitting there looking pensive and staring at the mead bottle as if she'd never seen one before. Which it occurred to Elisif she might not have done, having apparently come straight from Morrowind after the Red Year, settled at the Shrine and only recently left it.

“Aranea, did you want to come?” Elisif asked tentatively. “I mean, you've done enough helping Erandur get the information, and telling me about Korvanjund – thank you so much, by the way, I'd never have known the crown was even there otherwise. You don't need to stay around any more, I'm sure Azura needs you back at the Shrine...”

Aranea finally worked out how to open the bottle and took a swig of the contents.

“Not any more,” Aranea said bitterly. “She sent me one last vision before I left. That I'd spent too long among the ice and cold and needed to return to the world. She's sending no more visions my way. I... I guess she doesn't need me any more.”

The entire table had gone quiet, even Vilkas looking a bit sorry for her.

“I still – I mean, we still need you,” Erandur said, only looking slightly embarrassed as he reached out and took her hand. “Er... if that's alright with you, Elisif?”

“It's fine with me,” Elisif said, grinning knowingly. Good, about time Erandur got over his anxieties. Elisif was very pleased indeed to see Aranea's cheeks go pink as she smiled back at Erandur. Maybe Torygg was lost forever more, but that was no reason her friend couldn't be happy, and Elisif liked Aranea. For all the visions and slight craziness, Aranea also struck Elisif as kind and competent. Elisif could do with that on her side and Erandur could do with that in his life.

“So now we're all agreed, where is this ruin?” Elisif asked. Aranea got the map out and pointed at a cross not far north of the Nightgate Inn.

“Alftand. Not far from here, just over the pass and then north-east. If we set out at first light, we should be there in a few hours.”

Sounded like a plan. Elisif bade them all finish their drinks and get dinner in. They'd need an early night from the sounds of it and this might be the last comfortable one they'd have for a while.

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

“Orthus, what in Oblivion is this?”

To say Adelaisa Vendicci was not pleased with her Windhelm underling was an understatement. She'd known about the disruption to the shipping, but to see the office in this state... Honestly, they were meant to be the mercantile arm of the Empire itself. What did it look like to have one of their chief offices looking like a run-down hovel. It couldn't all be blamed on the war – Ulfric Stormcloak didn't have much of a navy. Too many farmers and hunters in his army and not enough qualified and experienced sailors.

“I'm sorry, Adelaisa!” Orthus pleaded. “I'm trying, I really am! It's these pirates, nothing is getting through!”

“Nothing?” Adelaisa said, narrowing her eyes. “With the number of ships we've got out there, I'm surprised at that. So what are you doing about it, hmm? Shatter-Shield's ships seem to be getting through.”

Adelaisa flicked over the logbook Orthus showed her. Well now, that was something. So the local wealthy family were paying pirates to ensure a monopoly on trading, with no concern for the lives of the poor sailors the Horkers preyed on. And these Nords called themselves honourable. No point going to the Jarl with this, not least because Adelaisa suspected these mercenaries had acquired the logbook by less than legal means themselves.

“So who were these mercenaries?” she asked. “We can trust them, I assume?”

“They didn't say a lot about who they were, only that they could get results and that they're from some outfit called the DragonBlades. Their leader's some blonde Breton woman in her 50s, I think. She had some other Breton girl called Ella or something, think that might be her kid, with her, and some Nord woman called Sapphire.”

Dragons. Of course they were, just lately this country had got obsessed with dragons. Even their queen-to-be was calling herself Dragonborn, presumably to try and win over her blood and honour obsessed countrymen. Well, rather her than Jarl Ulfric if this city was any indication.

“I see, and when are they due back?” Adelaisa said. “I want a word with these... DragonBlades.”

Orthus lit up, pointing at the door.

“There they are! That's their boss, right there.”

Adelaisa turned to see a blonde Breton woman who looked only a few years older than her, dressed in grey leather armour better suited to a brigand than a warrior, but there was an aura of competence to her. Behind her was a Nord woman in the same sort of armour, and a blonde Breton in red and black mage robes with a hand emblazoned on the front. Adelaisa frowned at the symbol, but let it go. If they were helping the East Empire Company, she'd let slide any other... allegiances.

“The DragonBlades, I presume,” Adelaisa said tersely. “Orthus here was telling me you'd agreed to help us out with our shipping problem.”

“That's right,” their leader said calmly. “Delphine Delassabri at your service. This is Eola and this is Sapphire. They're trusted colleagues of mine. We hear you're having a little piracy trouble.”

“Did you find anything in Dawnstar?” Orthus asked hopefully. “Were you able to get any information on where the Blood Horkers are hiding?”

“Oh did we ever,” the younger Breton purred, and Adelaisa did not like the woman's smile. Teeth too sharp. “Del, want to explain?”

“It's as we thought,” Delphine said grimly. “We found this Stig Salt-Plank in the tavern, and it turns out he is indeed a captain with the Horkers. So we took care of him and his men for you. It'll put a bit of a hitch in their operations.”

“Wonderful news!” Orthus gasped, but Adelaisa wasn't so sure. Delphine did not look happy, and although Bretons were prone to euphemism, Adelaisa wasn't convinced their troubles were over yet.

“And? There's clearly more. You said he was a captain, not the captain. So there's more of them out there.”

“Yes,” Delphine said quietly. “They're based out of an isolated fortress far to the north called Japhet's Folly. You round up some ships, head out there, take the place out, the entire operation will fall apart.”

Well, Adelaisa could manage that. Only Delphine still didn't look optimistic, which mean there was a catch.

“So what aren't you telling me?” Adelaisa asked wearily.

“Their leader's a battlemage,” Delphine admitted. “Some son of a bitch master illusionist called Haldyn. That's how they're getting away with it. He creates illusions of storms and mist, drives the ships off course and then the Horkers pounce. You won't be able to get near the Folly without him noticing and doing the same to you.”

“That is not news I wanted to hear!” Adelaisa snapped. “Don't you have anything useful to offer me?”

Delphine did smile at that, before beckoning Adelaisa to come follow her into a dark corner where Orthus couldn't hear her.

“How much do you love the Empire, soldier?” Delphine asked softly, eyeing up Adelaisa's Legion armour. Adelaisa had been retired for over a decade now, opting for an easier life in the East Empire rather than active service, but she could still fight and she still took pride in her service.

“I would give my life in the Emperor's service, but that is neither here nor there... is it?” Adelaisa looked shrewdly at Delphine, beginning to wonder if she was really the mercenary she claimed to be.

“Glad to hear it,” Delphine said quietly. “Well, I imagine you've heard about the war that this city's rebel Jarl started. A war that's probably not helping your own business any, because if a Jarl who actually was loyal to his Empire was in charge, we could go to him with evidence of the Shatter-Shields' profiteering and get help there. As it is, I find it hard to believe he isn't condoning this, or at least choosing to ignore it.”

Not far off Adelaisa's own thoughts on the matter. Seemed Delphine was also loyal to the Empire.

“So what do you suggest?” Adelaisa said softly. If it meant the East Empire got its shipping lanes re-opened, anything to help further the Imperial cause was fine by her.

“If you've got a problem with a master illusionist battlemage,” the other Breton, Eola, said as she joined them, “I find the best solution is to find one of your own. Turns out my da's got a few skills along those lines. He can bring a few of his friends along too, give you a few extra swords.”

“Friends?” Adelaisa queried, eyeing Eola up, and she was quite sure Eola wasn't any kind of High Rock name she'd ever heard. “Who are these friends?”

“General Tullius is getting a little tired of the war dragging on,” Delphine said, fingering the amulet hiding underneath her armour. “So in order not to waste the lives of his Legionnaires on dealing with it, he's resorting to... unorthodox means. Rather than a lengthy drawn-out siege, he's decided to go for a more covert operation. I'm the one in charge of co-ordinating it all, but I'll need a little help. Specifically, I'll need the East Empire Company's help smuggling supplies and people into the city. I already have recipients lined up to sign for these shipments, I just need them transporting. We help you sort Haldyn out, and in return, you help us with our little operation. How does it sound?”

“Let me see if I understand you,” said Adelaisa, wanting to be absolutely sure she'd actually heard this correctly. “You're planning some sort of uprising to unseat Jarl Ulfric, you need aid in getting all the supplies shipped into the city without anyone realising what's going on, and if I help you out, Eola's battlemage father and his friends will help sort out the Blood Horkers?”

“That's about the size of it, yes,” Delphine admitted. “Are you in?”

Adelaisa had had it just about up to here with unhelpful Nords muttering about damn Imperials and generally doing their best to get on her nerves, and if the whole thing screwed over the Shatter-Shields in the process, she was fine with that.

“Count me in,” Adelaisa promised.

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

Adelaisa was having second thoughts about this. First finding out that the pick-up point was Ravenscar Hollow, a known Hagraven nest, although Eola had reassured her they'd sorted the place out and not to worry about any Hagravens, her father had years of experience dealing with them.

Then the battle ships from the East Empire's private fleet arriving at Windhelm, and the captain looking a bit nervous.

“You had trouble with the Horkers?” Adelaisa asked, raising an eyebrow and the poor man shook his head.

“Oh no, ma'am – I mean, they tried, but as soon as their ships got near, these, er, mercenaries started letting loose with Destruction spells and Illusion spells and before they could even board, one Horker ship was going down with its sails on fire and a hole in the prow, and on the other one, the crew were too busy killing each other, not to mention someone was raising their corpses against them. Er... are you sure this lot are honourable?”

Frankly no, but if they were that good, Adelaisa would rather work with them than against them.

“Where are they?” she sighed.

The captain had stepped aside to reveal a mid-sized force of about fifty young-ish Bretons, one heavily-armoured Orc, a red-haired Imperial man in black and red tight-fitting leather gear, and at their head, a silver-haired man talking to Eola. All the Bretons were dressed from top to toe in heavy fur outfits that covered virtually all their skin, decorated with sabre-cat teeth, bones that weren't all animal bones either, and most had warpaint on their faces. Adelaisa began to wonder where on earth Delphine had found them from. They didn't look like mercenaries.

As if on cue, Delphine materialised at her elbow, smiling brightly.

“Well, here they are,” she said cheerfully. “Your special forces as promised, including a very competent battlemage. Come and meet him.”

Adelaisa wasn't sure she wanted to do any such thing, particularly not when she got closer to see a too-cheerful smile, piercing ice-blue eyes and the realisation the man was standing on a fire rune. She hadn't even known that was possible without getting killed.

“Adelaisa, this is Medane Dareche, the battlemage I was telling you about. Medane, this is Adelaisa Vendicci. She's in charge of the East Empire's shipping operations. We'll be working with her throughout this job.”

“It's a pleasure,” Medane purred, and Adelaisa had never met anyone quite this predatory in her life. She was tempted to call the whole thing off, but if General Tullius had sanctioned it, she supposed the man must be at least somewhat trustworthy. “I trust Delphine told you of our price for our... assistance?”

“She did,” Adelaisa said stiffly. “This operation you're planning. I trust you won't be harming innocent civilians?”

“Of course not,” Medane said, and Adelaisa wasn't sure she believed him in the slightest, but if it meant an end to the war and the East Empire's trade flowing again, she supposed she'd have to go along with it. “But perhaps Windhelm docks isn't the best place to talk about this?”

He was right about that at least.

“No, I suppose not, let's get under – why is there a goat wandering around the deck?”

Delphine's eyes had widened a bit and all the Breton warriors had instinctively reached for their blades.

“Lucky mascot,” Medane said calmly. “My people are very superstitious, you see. Many of them have never seen the sea before and were nervous about travelling by boat. The goat's essential.”

Adelaisa was very sure this wasn't the whole story but even more sure the truth was worse.

“Let's just get this operation under way,” she sighed.

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

Sure enough, as they reached Japhet's Folly, the mist descended, veiling the East Empire fleet and reducing visibility to nil. All the sailors, mostly Nords and Redguards who as cultures did not do well with the occult, were starting to fret, and some claimed they could see monsters in the mist. Adelaisa had no choice but to order everyone to weigh anchor.

“Well?” she snapped at Medane and Delphine. “This is clearly no natural mist. Can you do something about it?”

Delphine glanced at Medane who just nodded.

“Leave it to me. He's strong, but he's probably their only mage, and this isn't actually a very tough illusion spell. We can break it, no trouble.” He turned around and it was only then Adelaisa saw one of the Breton women painting a five-pointed star in a circle on the rear deck of the ship, and one of the men setting up some soul gems in holders where the points met the circle. Someone else had the goat nearby, stroking its fur and cooing over it, and Adelaisa had a horrible feeling that the goat was not intended as a mascot.

Medane was stripping his top off and his leggings, shivering in the cold air, before sitting cross-legged in the star's centre and holding out his arms. Two Breton women began painting strange markings on his skin while someone else started drumming and a monotonous chant started up.

“What are they doing,” Adelaisa whispered, transfixed.

“Don't look,” said Delphine gently, taking her by the arm as several Bretons and the Orc formed a line between the ritual site and the rest of the ship, glaring at anyone who came too close. “Just let them get on with it.”

“Are they... dark mages,” Adelaisa said, fingering her sword-hilt. “By the Eight, do I have blood mages and necromancers on board??”

“They're on your side,” Delphine said firmly, turning her away to face the prow of the ship. “Let them get on with it.”

Adelaisa closed her eyes and tried to shut it all out, including the masculine grunts of pain as Eola drew a knife against Medane's flesh, leaving several shallow but wide cuts in his arms, legs and torso, each one immediately covered by the hand of another Breton who'd just slashed their palm open.

“Blood of our blood, our power to yours,” Eola intoned, raising hands covered in her father's blood to the sky.

“Blood of my blood, your power to mine,” Medane called back, eyes shut tight as he slipped into a trance. “Kin of my kin, your king needs your strength.”

“Kin of our kin, our strength is yours,” the various Bretons touching him called back as their hands started to glow and Medane's whole body lit up as an ancient rite that allowed a leader to draw on the magicka of his people was invoked.

“Dread Father, Dread Father, bring the Void unto me, for the sins of the unworthy must be baptised in blood and fear,” Medane intoned and that did get Adelaisa's attention.

“WHAT are they doing??” Adelaisa cried, turning around just in time to see someone bringing the goat to Medane, who raised a soul-snaring dagger and, eyes aglow with strange magic, sliced the dagger across the beast's throat. The soul trap flared and Medane raised the soul gem to the sky, hands covered in blood.

“Dread Father, I give you Haldyn,” Medane called out. “Take this soul as payment and open the Void, fill his vision with darkness and his future with death!”

Black lightning struck from the sky, hitting the soul gem and in a flash of pure darkness, it vanished. Medane collapsed back into Eola's arms, the others all letting him go and healing their palms while some Breton observers rallied round their leader with healing magic, potions and a clean set of clothes.

Somewhere in the distance, horrifying screaming started up, and the mists began to clear, Japhet's Folly appearing in the distance.

“What just happened?” Adelaisa whispered, fighting the urge to be sick. All her crew were whimpering in fear, soldiers and sailors alike, none a stranger to combat, but few had ever seen anything like that. “What did he do?”

The Bretons hadn't batted an eyelid, just clearing up shattered soul gems, hauling the goat's body overboard and starting to scrub the star pattern away.

“He just opened the Void and called power from it to attack Haldyn for us,” Delphine explained. “I didn't get all the details, but apparently if a mage is casting in your vicinity and you have more magicka than them, you can establish a connection with them while they open up their power to cast, except the ritual's very draining, requires a blood sacrifice and a soul as offering, and any halfway sensible enemy mage who sees you doing it will interrupt. But if someone is spreading their magic over a wide area like our friend Haldyn was, you've got ample time to perform a rite before he realises what you're doing, and if you know how to pool your magicka with several willing volunteers who are also skilled mages, you're laughing. Well, poor Medane isn't right now, but I'm assured he did it once before and survived. Although that was over thirty years ago... I should probably check on him.”

Adelaisa watched her go and promptly sat down, by now fairly certain General Tullius never sanctioned any of this and that whoever these mysterious Bretons were, they weren't necessarily a better prospect than rebel Nord Jarls who were willing to turn a blind eye to piracy if it harmed their enemies. But she had made a promise to assist them with their uprising against Ulfric, and having seen that little display, she definitely didn't want them on her bad side.

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

In the end, the operation went better than anyone could have hoped. Eola, Sapphire and that strange, giggling red-head called Cicero, had disembarked first, skipping over the ice floes and sneaking in via the side entrance to cause chaos from inside, while the bombardment had started from the sea, assisted with Destruction magic from the Bretons that hadn't been taking part in blasphemous and heretical blood magic rituals.

Medane was wrapped in furs, drinking liberally from potion vials and looking a bit pale but otherwise none the worse for his exertions.

“Dare I ask who you really are?” Adelaisa said, staring down at him.

“Best not to,” Medane grinned, coughing and reaching for a mug of some hot steaming liquid. “Classified information and all that. Just suffice it to say that if you pick up my people and supplies from Ravenscar Hollow and bring them safely to Windhelm, I'll consider this debt paid. Don't worry, we won't perform any more blood magic on your ships. Not unless Ulfric hires himself some battlemages and I don't think it's terribly likely.”

Adelaisa hoped not. After this, she was beginning to realise why people had a problem with mages. Her fears were not assuaged when her men found Haldyn, out of his mind, babbling incoherently and ripping his own flesh apart, convinced there were monsters in his skin. Then that odd jester had slit the man's throat, smile never leaving his face, and at that point, hardened ex-Legion men had turned and fled the scene.

But the Blood Horkers had been wiped out and that was something, and Adelaisa could live with that at least. Mostly she was just worried for the city of Windhelm. Something worse than the Thalmor or dragons was coming for them.

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

Thank the Aedra there were six of them. Thank the Aedra two of them were skilled healers. Thank everyone that none of them had been hurt, not too badly anyway. The same could not be said of the expedition that had preceded them – a trail of bodies and journals telling of screams in the night and disappearing comrades told its own story. Then there were the Falmer.

Elisif had never come across the Falmer before, although she'd heard stories. The reality was worse. Evil, blind, pale travesties of elves that leapt out of the darkness with viciously sharp weapons coated in poison, and their Chaurus pets that scuttled out of nowhere spitting poison, or flew at them, sharp claws tearing at faces. It was a good thing Aranea was a good shot with her fireballs really. As it is, they all took injuries and Vilkas and Farkas in particular had a few new scars to show for it. Neither seemed to care.

“Pain fades. Glory lasts forever,” Vilkas shrugged. “It'll make for a good story.”

“Plus everyone digs scars,” Farkas said, nodding. “Men. Women. Elves. Khajiit. Everyone. They'll keep me in mead and bedmates for years.”

Ria giggled, Vilkas shook his head in exasperation, Aranea just smiled and Erandur acted as if he'd heard nothing. Elisif could feel herself blushing, but pulled herself together. She was a grown woman, for Aedra's sake, and a married – married once anyway – one at that. Farkas was perfectly entitled to go out and enjoy himself if he liked.

“Come on, let's move on before we run into any more of them,” Elisif said.

The ruin seemed to go on for miles, finally coming to what looked like the end with a Dwemer Centurion guarding the way and then the last two members of the doomed expedition who, clearly having gone mad from this place, turned on them too. Elisif could barely look at the bodies after, leaving the two Dunmer to give last rites.

“You all right?” Ria asked gently.

“I will be,” Elisif sighed. “I just... really really hate this place and we're not even at Blackreach yet.” She pulled out the little round tuning sphere. “Wonder what we're supposed to do with this.”

As one, Farkas and Vilkas clapped their hands to their ears.

“Gods, what is that thing?” Vilkas snapped.

“It really hurts,” Farkas cried, not quite whining but the nearest a six foot three Nord man ever came to it.

“But it's not doing anything,” Elisif said, confused. “Apart from vibrating a little.”

“Are you joking, it's a non-stop high-pitched whine!” Vilkas said, still clutching his ears. “Gods sake, woman, put it away!”

“Dwemer music is soft and subtle and needed to open their cleverest gates,” Aranea said thoughtfully. “It wasn't doing that to you two in the inn, so maybe the gate's nearby. There, what's that console?”

The high-pitched whine seemed to intensify as Elisif approached it, judging by the way the twins were hunching up in pain, and she could feel the sphere vibrating even harder. There was a hole exactly the right size to fit the sphere into and as she did so, both twins sagged in relief... and the whole thing started to sink into the floor, turning into a set of stairs that led to a previously hidden set of doors.

“Do you think that's it?” Ria whispered. “The entrance to Blackreach?”

There was only one way to find out.

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

Blackreach turned out to be absolutely stunning. Sparkling glowing stones in the vast overhead roof that reminded Elisif of the sky. Soft mist rising off the rivers. Exquisitely crafted Dwemer buildings rising out of the silty black earth. Glowing fungi towering above them.

It was a sight to be seen. It was huge too. Elisif wasn't even sure how many Solitudes you could get in this cavern but it was vast. You could live down here, you could have a whole hidden city down here, safe from the enemies above. There was just one downside.

It was also full of Falmer.

“I really really hate the Falmer,” Elisif said through gritted teeth. “I've never met a race with so little to redeem them.”

“They were elves once,” Aranea said solemnly. “They had a prosperous civilisation once, above the ground. Until your people invaded, drove them below ground to the Dwemer, who betrayed them, blinded them and turned them into monsters.”

When you put it like that... Not for the first time, Elisif felt a bit uneasy about her people. Brave, honourable warriors, and for the most part Elisif did think most Nords were essentially good people... but all those great victories meant someone else had lost. It bothered Elisif. Yes, Skyrim was the Nords' ancestral home and Atmora had become unlivable, but couldn't they have come to some arrangement with the elves? Did they have to wipe them out?

Elisif didn't know, and it was too late now. All the same, she felt sorry for the Falmer. Didn't stop her running them through, of course, but deep inside, she made herself a promise that once she was queen in truth, she'd never declare war lightly.

Finally they found the Tower of Mzark, and made themselves at home. Elisif didn't know how far they'd walked or what time it was but she was exhausted, they all were. So rest and sleep and eat, and then time to find the Elder Scroll.

There were buttons. There was cursing. There was a lot of button-pressing and darting around and tears and frustration... but in the end, it worked and the contraption opened up to reveal what they'd come for.

“It's gorgeous,” Ria gasped as Elisif cradled the Elder Scroll in her arms. “I never thought I'd ever see one!”

“Gonna read it?” Farkas asked, curious. “What's it say?”

“Not a good idea,” Erandur warned her. “They say reading them sends you blind.”

Given that she'd have to read the thing at the time wound, that wasn't promising. But Elisif packed it away. She'd cross that bridge when she got there.

The elevator in Tower Mzark took them to the surface a lot nearer home than anyone had expected. They were right up in the hills overlooking Giant's Gap, Dawnstar to the north, the Throat to the south and Whiterun clearly visible in the valley below.

“Whiterun!” Ria cried, homesickness finally kicking in. It had been weeks since she'd last been there after all. “We can go home!”

“That we can,” Vilkas said, finally smiling in the sunlight as he put an arm round Ria, who for once didn't seem to mind.

“Well, Elisif, what do you think? The majority vote seems to be in favour of Jorrvaskr,” Erandur said. “I know you're heading that way anyway.”

Elisif could really do with a bath, a good meal, some mead and a warm bed, it had to be said. Even though Whiterun really wasn't safe... but she had five friends with her, if she didn't leave Jorrvaskr during her stay, she'd be safe, right? As long as she kept a low profile.

“All right,” she said. “Jorrvaskr it is.”

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

A/N: Next chapter, Elisif returns to civilisation to find her Blades have been busy, and that someone has been interfering yet again. And then it's time to face Alduin.

Ooh, this looks really interesting! I never would have thought of Karliah for this, but it could be really intriguing. Excellent start so far, please do continue it! I'm curious.

(And def. don't be too intimidated by WQA - I've been at this fanfic lark for years, it only looks good because I purged the early works from the internet.)

Just an idea that popped into my stupid little mind.

Id like to see some kind of special bond between Gallus and Mercer, but one of them think of the other in a sexualized way.

This may or may not have come about because I found some gifs on tumblr that made me blush

Characters: F!PC, Jarl Siddgeir, Nenya
Genre: PWP
Relationships: Het
Warnings: Oral, Language
Summary: The Jarl of Falkreath refuses to let his Thane go out for the night, instead confining her to his bedroom to teach her the rewards of loyalty.

Tags: char:F!PC, char:siddgeir, kink:oral, kink:dominance, kink:fingering, kink:rough_sex, race:Altmer, race:nord, relationship:het, es:skyrim

Notes: Alright, trying to get back to the basics of their relationship which is... Siddgeir's a dick. I mean there is not really any way around it, he's a narcissist and a dick and although he can be sweet, his root personality is demanding things like a spoiled child. Also, I really like Nenya but considering how long she's been steward I just cannot see her tolerating him a lot. Like she had to have watched him grow up and people have thresholds of tolerance. Hers probably broke a while ago.

“A festival?” his Thane said excited and he looked up from his book, annoyed. His damn Altmer Thane was looking to Nenya in excitement and the steward was indulging her, carrying around some pelts that had been drying outside, the younger Altmer taking a few to help. “What happens at a festival?”

Nenya chuckled and he rolled his eyes and went back to looking at his book, though he was listening. “It’s not a very big, festival. It’s mostly just a travelling band that comes to the Inn and plays but there will be food and drinks and everyone in town goes to have fun.”

“Not everyone,” he said rather loudly and both looked to him but he didn’t look up. He flipped the page, not even reading at the words and he heard Nenya sigh.

“Mostly everyone,” she said and she disappeared upstairs with his Thane following. He sighed and shut his book, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he could feel a headache coming. Slowly he got up, cracking his back before he started on his knuckles and he dropped the book on his throne, making he made his way into his old wine cellar. Skulnar was sitting on his cot while Helvard was standing near him, both oiling the small collection of swords he had.

They said nothing, merely nodding and he nodded back before he went to his stash of Black-Briar mead, fetching a bottle before he pulled out his dagger and cut off the top. It bubbled, the smell welcoming and he went back out, going to the door to open it and check out at his Hold as he took a drink. The damned blacksmith pounding away at a blade and his father chopping wood for the Inn, chatting to his Uncle’s servant or slave or whatever the hell she was. Some mousey girl who put her lot in with the wrong man.

He let the door shut and wandered back to his throne, grabbing his book before dropping down on it as Nenya and his Thane came out of her room, giggling. He watched them feeling his headache start and he sighed, flipping open his book again, taking a long drink of the sweet mead. He sighed to himself, making a mental note to send Maven a letter of praise.

“What do you wear to this?” his Thane was asking and Nenya gave a shrug as she went into the wine cellar.

“You can wear anything. Some of the girls dress up… or dress down, depending on your definition. I’m sure there’s an outfit we can find you.”

He had enough.

“Nenya!” he called and there was a pause but she eventually came out, his Thane following like a puppy. He looked behind her to the stupid girl and he snapped his fingers, pointing at his feet. She flushed and came forth, bowing to him and he brought his feet up, his heels hitting the girl’s shoulders making her wince and his steward glare at him. “Who said you could go to this?”

Her tongue pressed against her cheek. “Siddgeir,” she said in a flat tone. “We go every year.”

“You can,” he said right back and he pointed down at the girl under his feet. “She can’t.”

His Thane immediately looked up and he caught her eye, staring her down until she lowered her eyes respectfully. He smirked to himself over and took a drink of his mead while Nenya glared at him. He snorted at her. “Someone has to stay and protect me. Unless you really want to encourage an assassin to come in and kill me while you all drink with those whores at the Inn.”

He felt his Thane stiffen under his feet at his words and he knew he probably had her hooked. Nenya crossed her arms.

“You’ve stayed in the Longhouse alone before.”

“Times have changed,” he cut back and she came forward, ready to fight with him over it making him raise his head but his Thane spoke.

“I-I’ll stay,” she said making them look down. “I’ll stay.”

He smiled and moved his feet off her, reaching down to bring her chin up so their eyes met and he gave her a smile which made her flush. “Good girl,” he purred and he could practically see her blood rush through her body, her hands fidgeting and he looked to Nenya in triumph. She grit her teeth but said nothing.

He slumped back, hitting the throne and he opened his book, flipping to the page he had initially been on drinking his mead as he did. Nenya sighed and looked to the girl at his feet before she resigned to moving around the Longhouse alone. She took up residence up near her room with several rolls of paper and an inkwell and his Thane sat before him, obedient and silent.

He looked down at her a few times but her head was bowed and she was silent. He dismissed her, letting her go back to her initial duties of doing errands around the town. Nenya came back down to him once she had left.

“Siddgeir, let her come,” she said and he stared at her.

“No. Why should I?” he said, twirling his bottle in his hands and she stared at him in disappointment.

“You keep her chained to you like she’s one of your hounds. She needs to be able to be without you,” she said and he furrowed his brows at her in annoyance.

“She does. When she goes out and cleanses the Hold, she’s not with me, is she?” he pointed out and he watched the Altmer press her lips together. “Besides, she swore her life to me and I expect to make sure she makes good on that. I am her Jarl, and may I remind you yours? So get off my back.”

Nenya said nothing but she moved back upstairs leaving him a bit irritated and he tossed his book on the floor drinking deep into his bottle. He really hated how his damn steward did that to him. So what if he controlled his Thane? She knew what she was getting in to when she accepted the title. Besides, she never complained – not that he would care if she did.

He got up and went to his room, sorting through his dresser before he thought for a moment. He would just have to show his stupid Thane why listening to him was better than Nenya. He shouldn’t have to, gods above, but if Nenya was going to keep complicating his damn life then he might as well.

He came back out and went up to her, giving her a look as she sat at the table quiet. He grabbed some paper, scribbling something down and he shoved it at her making her stiffen.

“Order that,” he muttered and she looked down and flushed. She didn’t say anything but her discomfort made him smile and he took the last drink from his bottle, setting it down before her. “Now, Nenya.”

“Fine,” she hissed and he went back down, pleased.

--

He watched as Nenya got ready to leave, Skulnar and Helvard behind her as they came to the door. His Thane smiled at them, a slight hint of jealousy in her expression and Nenya patted her arm.

“We won’t be long,” she said and she turned to look at the men behind her. They left, Skulnar shutting the door behind him and they were alone, his Thane quiet. He went into the cellar, grabbing a few bottles of mead and he moved to his room, placing them on his table as she came back, waiting obediently by his throne.

He went back to her, giving her a look over and she blushed a bit. “M-My Jarl,” she said in her typical meek tone. “Is there anything you wish me to get for you?”

He said nothing, still looking her over. She was in her typical purple robes, her body hidden beneath them and he reached forward, his hands touching near where her waist should be. She flushed deeply at his simple action and he looked at her.

“Go into my room,” he commanded and she bit her lip but obeyed, wobbling a bit as she stepped down and made her way to his room. He followed, looking to the front door for a minute as if doing so would deter anyone from coming and he stepped into his room, closing the door. He walked past her, giving her another look which made her blush even further and he grabbed the pitcher on his dresser, pouring himself a drink.

He leaned against it, studying her again and she was fidgeting with her dress as she did when she was nervous. His eyes moved down to where he was going to spend most of his night. He licked his lips, taking a drink and he tapped his fingers on his goblet.

“Kjersti,” he finally said her name and she looked to him. “Get those stupid robes off.”

She flushed deeply, fidgeting more but she obeyed his command. She pulled them off, hesitant before she placed them on the floor and she crossed her arms over her chest, modest. He didn’t care, his eyes moving down to her panties. These ones had a black string and he found himself staring at them. They were new. All the better to ruin them,

He swallowed the rest of his water, placing the goblet down and he went to her side, his fingers brushing over her hip again making her flush. Her skin was covered in a few scars but there was still a softness to it that only a woman seemed to hold. He leaned over, kissing her jaw and she flushed, dipping her head down a bit. He reached down, ghosting over her stomach and he touched the top of her underwear making her shiver.

“Get on the bed,” he muttered into her ear and she did, crawling on all fours for a moment before she turned, nervously laid out for him. He studied her, her lithe frame and he kicked off his boots, tugging on the chain that held his furs to his neck. They were dropped to hang on the post of the bed and he climbed on, purposely looking her entire body over.

A blush filled her cheeks and she reached up to cover her chest, her thighs pressing together. He slapped them making her spread and she gazed up at him, their eyes meeting and she chewed her lip.

He almost wanted to fuck her right then and there. Not that she would complain but as much as he loved quickies, this was about establishing his ownership. “This,” he said quietly. “Is a one-time thing, understand? Don’t expect this all the fucking time.”

She blinked. “E-Expect what?”

“You’ll see,” he muttered and he moved down, focused on her damn underwear. He contemplated just getting to it but somehow it wouldn’t be as satisfying just going down on her directly. He paused for a moment, recalling the years ago when he did lay with that mouthy travelling Dunmer and her damned instructions and he sighed internally.

He leaned down, his breath caressing her stomach making her whimper and he kissed her gently just above the edge of her panties. She tensed and he kissed her again, trailing around the top before moving down to her thighs. She exhaled, her hands fidgeting on her chest and he forced her legs apart more, licking the inside of her thigh. He went down but still didn’t go near where she was obviously aching, her whimpering increasing and he looked up at her.

She was flushed, biting her lip with shivers running up her body and he smiled to himself. Of course she was begging for him. He roughly grabbed her, forcing her lower body up more so she was practically spread out for him and he continued licking her thighs, making her whimper more. He sucked on small parts of her skin, marking her despite the fact he knew no man would ever see them and she started to fidget, her toes curling.

“Relax,” he growled and she did. It was the one thing he did like about her; every word he said she would obey. There were a couple times where he did have to remind her to smarten the fuck up but they were becoming fewer as the days went on. He looked up at her, how her cheeks were permanently flushed, her eyes full of adoration and lust but her body language still shy and he scoffed.

He dragged his tongue down to where a small part of her was peeking out from under her panties and he breathed over her, lingering to make her really squirm before he kissed her. She jerked and panted, his name being groaned and he smiled to himself, his ego being stroked. He kissed it again, nipping at the skin before he moved up again, his fingers running over her body.

He kissed her roughly to make sure she knew who was in charge and she melted into him, whimpering against his lips. He reached down, his fingers stroking her through her underwear and he could feel she was wet. “My, Thane,” he muttered as he purposely rubbed in a light motion around near where her clit was making her arch his back. “I’ve barely touched you and you’re practically dripping.”

“I-I can’t…” she whimpered, panting and flushing as she gripped at his arms. “I can’t help it…”

“Please,” he growled, teasing her more as he stopped his light circles and moved to giving long strokes making her shift. “Have some damn restraint.”

She bit her lip giving him a pleading look and he pressed his lips against hers before he went back down. He could see the outline of her against her underwear and he finally went down to lick. The fabric molded to her more as he did and she arched her back, tensing until he slapped her backside. He worked her from there, teasing her by kissing around where she needed it, sucking the fabric instead of her and she shook in desperate need, her fingers being bit as he kissed the side of her pussy. “M-My Jarl!”

He leaned up, looking down at his work and he traced her with the tip of her tongue making her nearly scream, his name being panted hard now.

“S-Siddgeir!” she begged and he pulled away causing her to groan in frustration. He licked his thumb and pressed it against her making her tense.

“Calm yourself, you stupid elf,” he said, rubbing her a bit rough and the sloppy wet sounds of the fabric and her pussy meeting made him inwardly grin. He went back down, soaking her more until he finally tired of tasting woven thread and he grabbed her panties and ripped them off her body making her shout.

He went down on her, his tongue directly hitting her warm, dripping slit and she cried out, kicking on the bed. Before he could hold her down she came and he stared at her, her hips bucking and her stomach tense. He let her fall to the bed, her thighs shaking and he scoffed. “I barely touched you,” he chastised but she didn’t respond. “Kjersti.”

She whimpered. “S…Siddgeir…” her toes curled and she slowly tried closing her legs but he wouldn’t let her, keeping them spread for himself. She swallowed, shifting on the bed. He leaned down, touching her and she whimpered as his fingers stroked her wet folds. He brought his fingers up to her lips making her taste herself and she shyly sucked on his fingers, her tongue running over the tips.

He hated to admit it but it was turning him on. This damn elf. He pulled his fingers away and kissed her again making her moan, her body submissive to him. He gave her some recovery time, focusing on dominating her mouth as he waited and when she started tugging at his body he went back down, sinking his tongue into her. She arched her back, nearly tensing but he dug his nails into her thigh making her stop.

He licked her a few times, enough to get her wet and he leaned up, staring at her. “Tighten for me,” he demanded and he watched as she did, the muscles in her thigh and stomach doing so as well and he leaned down, hovering to just breathe against her again and she whined louder than he expected.

“S-Siddgeir… Please… I need it…” she begged. He moved up making her shiver, helpless and he smirked.

“I’m sorry, I’m getting tired,” he shrugged and she nearly screamed, thrashing on his bed.

“N-No, no, please, please,” she started babbling. “Please, don’t leave me like this! Please, my Jarl! I-I’ll do anything!” She grabbed at him but he avoided it, smiling inwardly at her desperation. “M-My Jarl! Please! I need you!”

“You need me?” he teased and she whined, her voice dripping with lust. He contemplated letting her stew for a few minutes but her panting and squirming and her utter dependence on him made him relent.

He went back down giving her a long, hot lick and she nearly came from it, her voice high as it escaped her. He slapped her ass. “No coming, Thane.”

“S-Sorry,” she said, tense and shivering and he spread her, licking deep, her folds sweet and his fingers rubbing her gently. He gave her a few long licks, rushing her clit when he did to make her scream but he moved into a rhythm he was comfortable with, focused on teasing her. His damned roll with that dunmer did teach him a few things he had to admit and the squirming, still practically virginal Altmer under him was new to it making him feel like some sort of sex god as she started whining his name.

She reached down, her fingers tugging his hair and he growled, nipping at her clit making her hips roll. He could feel her continuously moving towards an orgasm, her shifting on the bed a good indication and he stepped it up, his fingers moving to tease her entrance while he trailed his tongue in a circle around her slightly exposed clit.

She was starting to breathe harder, her stomach tensing and her body shaking and he gave her more wet licks, letting his saliva drip down from her pussy. Gods, she was wet now, every motion he did making sounds and she groaned deep.

“Siddgeir, I need it! Please! I need you!”

He ignored her, flicking his tongue against her clit making her shout, her entire body tensing and he kissed her labia, pulling the folds before he went back down, focusing exclusively not to get her off just to stroke his ego. He only teased pushing into her body, her clit the priority and it took her barely any time to come, her cries loud as she did.

Her hands gripped at his hair when she did, her hips bucking and he tasted her as she became wet, lapping at her body. His lips were wet with her come, some starting to drip down her body and he slapped her hands off his head as he leaned up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

She fell down, her chest rising and falling and she looked as if he had just fucked her, her hair starting to stick to her neck. He took a mental snapshot, loving how she kept whimpering his name and he leaned over her, his hands burying into her hair. She opened her weary eyes, biting her lip and he forced her up, kissing her.

He tugged her hair, his fingers moving through the strands and he looked down at her. Her hair had gotten a bit longer but it still wasn’t up to his desired length. He wanted to be able to really grab her as he rode her, to remind her who she was in service to and she panted, gripping him. He glanced to her and she leaned up, kissing his neck. He allowed her to suck on him, trying hard to please him which she was doing an adequate job of. He wasn’t much of a fan of her marking his skin; doing so usually raised questions which he never was in the mood to answer.

He shoved her off making her yelp and he moved off his bed, finally tugging his robes off until he was just in his summer tunic – if you could call it that since summer didn’t exist in his damn Hold – moving to grab a bottle of mead to drink off the table. He swirled it around in his mouth, swallowing before he turned back. She moved lazily on his bed, still in the aftermath of her second orgasm and she turned over, staring at him. He stared right back and her eyes went down.

“M-My Jarl,” she said leaning up a bit licking her lips. He waited and she shifted, her legs drawing up so she was sitting. “Please. Let me… Take care of you.”

He came forward, watching her quietly and she came to the side of the bed, reaching down to touch his erect cock. He said nothing, letting her draw his tunic up and her mouth went down on him eagerly. He took a drink, reaching down to pet her hair and she tried to please him as he did to her. He angled her head after a moment, not satisfied with her desperate attempt.

“Use your tongue,” he ordered and she did. He pushed her down more. “Relax your throat.”

She did.

He took another drink, his breath catching as she sucked at the tip and she went down more, his hand cupping the back of her head as she did. He watched her suck him, her legs dragging up and closing tight as she started getting noisy, her cheeks flushing and he let out a ragged sigh. Slowly she was getting him off and he took another drink, lingering on the bottle as she started using her hand with her mouth, going up and down him effortlessly.

He gripped her hair tight, shutting his eyes as he started feeling it and she pulled off, panting, her lips moving over his shaft and he forced her to take his length again, hissing. This damn elf. He nearly dropped his bottle as she went to the base, her throat swallowing him, her moaning running through his body and he felt his stomach tighten. He was starting to lose it.

He groaned despite himself. This stupid fucking elf. She was so eager on him, nearly forcing him to come and he dug his nails into her skull, trying to hold her still but she brought him too far. He let her continue until his nerves were on end, until he wanted to fuck her damn pussy until she was screaming and he took a drink before he came, biting the bottle as she teased him. He thrust into her damn mouth as he released, gripping the back of her head tight and she swallowed it, pulling off with a small cry, licking her lips and he tossed his half drunken bottle down when he saw her lick her fingers. Damn fucking stupid elf.

He was on her making her cry but he didn’t care. He was there to remind her who controlled who and his mouth was back on her lapping at her pussy tasting what was damn well his. His fingers joined, teasing her clit hard and she cried out, bucking. He smirked to himself, his own body still a bit hot from his own release making him a bit eager himself and he pushed his fingers into her, pumping while he lapped at her throbbing body. Her breathing increased and her body started shaking, thrusting back against him until he curled his fingers up, looking for that sweet spot that he knew would make her come and she thrashed.

“S-Siddgeir!” she cried, moving to get away but he forced her back, tonguing her clit, finding that damned sweet spot to press and she started shouting. If there was anyone in the Longhouse they would have heard her for sure and he milked it, making her scream his name, his blankets being torn and bed moving on the stones as she came, releasing fast. He pulled back, still fingering her as he licked his lips and her head was thrown back, her back arched as she clenched around him and he smirked.

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