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

please write more of this, its great

Uhm.. Hello. First time asking for one of these. I adore Farkas, mostly because of his voice and wanted to see if I could stir up some trou-- I mean love for pairings involving him! Now, main thing is I'm, as mentioned before, big on his voice. I adore how gravelly it is.

The DB can be anyone, as to race, gender, etc. Mine, personally is an unarmed combat khajiit, who due to heavy armour has to sneak naked. May be amusing to include that for laughs, if you like.

So, I like smut. It's delicious, I even know a song about it. Fluff is OK too. I feel like I'm being too vague.

Right, recap:
1. Farkas, love the voice. Mention, please
2. DB = anything you like, slight sugguestion unarmed combat type. Maybe mention sneaking naked due to heavy armour.
3. ???
4. MOST AWESOME FILL EVER!/ Profit!

Yay! More Gunnar & Vilkas! :D It was great!

*squee!* Yay, someone got the clues! Glad you're enjoying. :)

I've had the Argis+Madanach backstory in mind for ages, but never was able to do anything about it. I'm now enjoying the chance to finally use it, and am glad you are too! Madanach's a good father, but really not good at dealing with the fact his only son is one of the hated Nords...

'What Shall We Do With The Captured Stormcloak?' - oh gods, I've created a meme with a life of its own...

It was very sad for me never getting to use it before, but now I am, and that's awesome!

Trying to get Cicero to behave is a never-ending challenge. This is what happens when he's not involved with the Listener... As it is, Madanach only Lightning Cloaked him once, which is not bad going considering.

Commenting on Eola would be spoilery either way so I won't. :P

Pairing: F!DB Altmer/Madanach, offpage Cicero/Kaie
Relationship: het
Kinks/warnings: Some slightly rough sex and creative use of Restoration magic
Summary: Liriel just can't avoid meddling, and while most of it has a knack of turning out well, one unavoidable decision could ruin everything.
A/N: A little bitty, this one, but it was a vitally important bridge to the part where Things Get Interesting.

“You did what!?”

“Found an Elder Scroll,” said Liriel cheerfully, twirling the golden cylinder around for all of Druadach Redoubt to see. “It was hidden in this big machine right at the bottom of this huge Dwemer city called Blackreach. Argis was right there helping, weren't you, Argis?”

“I hate the Falmer,” was all Argis felt like saying. Despite the ebony armour Liriel had found for him down there, he'd still not entirely forgiven her for dragging him through all that.

Madanach had to sit down at this point, pouring himself a large tumbler of jenever.

“So after my specific instructions not to get yourselves killed and to take care, you end up delving into dangerous Dwemer ruins and messing with things humanity was not supposed to interfere with and bring THAT back here? Liriel, I hope there's a good reason for this?”

“It's a very important part of the fight against Alduin,” Liriel protested, before a flash of red behind her caught her attention. “NO, CICERO, PUT IT DOWN!”

Cicero pouted as he closed the Scroll and reluctantly handed it back over. “It was pretty!” he complained. “Pretty and shiny with pretty patterns on it!”

“Sithis' sake,” Liriel swore, reclaiming it before Cicero could do any serious damage with it. He was just fortunate he didn't have a lot in the way of arcane knowledge, not enough to do any damage with anyway. “Can't you leave anything alone for five minutes?”

Cicero kept pouting. “Cicero was curious,” he muttered. “Cicero is never allowed to look at anything interesting.”

“You see plenty of interesting things,” Madanach snapped at him. “Kaie! KAIE! Your friend is playing up again. Deal with him before I do.”

Kaie sighed, getting up from where she was lounging in her tent. “Fine, fine.” She came to sit behind Cicero, snuggling him from behind and ensuring his hands were restrained in the process. “Is that a real Elder Scroll? What are you going to do with it, Liriel?”

“I'm going up the Throat of the World with it,” Liriel said, stroking the Scroll's outer case. “I need to use it to see into the past there and learn the Shout used to defeat Alduin, and then I have to find him and kill him.”

Madanach, already slumped over the table, shuddered and took another swig of jenever.

“Dear gods, why can't I have a queen with nice, safe interests like needlework or gardening?” Madanach muttered. Next to Liriel, Argis started to snicker, before catching Kaie's eye and the two of them lost it entirely.

“Needlework and gardening!” Kaie howled, tears rolling down her face. “Argis, sweetie, can you imagine? Some sweet little innocent maiden ending up with him!”

“Not sure who I'd feel more sorry for,” Argis laughed, recovering enough to take a sip of mead. “The poor girl or him. You know what he's like. He'd be bored to tears with someone safe.”

“Listener is probably very good at stabbing people with needles!” Cicero chirped up, sending them all off into hysterics again. Madanach growled at all three of them, before grabbing the bottle and retreating to his tent. Leaving them to it, Liriel got up and followed him in, taking the Scroll with her. Time to have a few choice words with the King in Rags about his family.

He was lying down on the bed, arm over his face. Liriel secured the Scroll in his chest and and stretched out alongside him.

“I'm sorry, Madanach,” she said, gently placing a hand on his stomach. “But Argis has a point, you'd never have fallen in love with anyone safe.”

“Can't say I ever have, no,” Madanach sighed wearily. “But even Mireen never messed about with Elder Scrolls. Do you know what you're doing, Dragon-Queen?”

The answer to this one was no, without a shadow of a doubt, but Liriel wasn't going to admit that.

“I've got it all under control,” Liriel reassured him. “Don't worry, what's the worst that could happen?”

Madanach promptly rolled over, pushing her back and climbed on top of her, glaring down at her as he pulled her legs around him.

“You get yourself killed, Argis killed, that Scroll rends a hole into the fabric of time, all Oblivion pours through it and the dragons eat us all?” he snarled.

“It won't happen,” Liriel soothed him, stroking his face. “I promise.”

“You promise,” Madanach said, not remotely mollified. “You can guarantee that won't happen, can you?”

Well, no. “But if I don't do it, Alduin will kill us all eventually!” Liriel sighed. “You know what the dragons are doing, you know that no matter how often you kill them, they come back unless I'm there, because Alduin keeps raising them! I can't be everywhere, Madanach. I need to stop this at source, and killing Alduin is all that will do it. I'm sorry, cariad.”

Madanach closed his eyes, the anger fading as he nuzzled her cheek.

“Don't die,” he murmured. “I've already lost three children, a wife, countless friends and former comrades. I can't lose any more, I just can't.”

“You won't,” Liriel whispered, pulling him to her and running her fingers through his hair. “You won't lose any more children, I promise. I won't let your son die.”

Madanach went very still, before rolling off her, lying back on the bed.

“How did you find out about that,” he whispered, voice low and dangerous. “No one is supposed to know about that, for the boy's own safety!”

“I guessed,” said Liriel, deciding not to mention Argis had inadvertently given it away. “And he's thirty five, hardly a boy any more. Madanach, why did you never tell me?”

Madanach sighed, seeming to give in – in fact, part of him just looked relieved to be able to admit it to someone.

“I'm sorry, Liriel. I didn't know how you'd react, and admitting to an illegitimate son running around isn't something a man's usually proud of.”

“But you did before,” Liriel whispered. “He was your acknowledged son when they brought him here, you called him Argis ap Madanach and swore an entire camp to secrecy.”

“Of course I did, what would you do when faced with your crying ten year old son who's just seen his mother killed and thinks he's an orphan?” Madanach sighed. “I'm not a complete monster. And Liriel, do not think for a moment it was easy keeping that knowledge from Mireen – I had to have at least three people staked out with salt in their wounds and honey on their skin because they gossiped where they shouldn't. An overreaction perhaps, but no one endangers my children.”

“Nor mine,” Liriel said quietly. “Listen, if you want, I can send him back to Markarth, take someone else? I've got another friend who'd happily give me a hand if I asked her.”

“No, no,” Madanach said, closing his eyes. “Despite the fact you're completely mad, I think he's safer with you than anywhere. And he's not a child, he's a grown man, and I know he can fight. He may not be any good at magic, but he's strong, resilient, can handle virtually any weapon put in his hands – Liriel, he's faster in heavy armour than a lot of my Forsworn are in light. He's a fine warrior, and I'm very proud of him, and he knows that even if I can't be open about it.”

“No,” Liriel heard herself say, her tone sharper than she'd meant it to be. “He thinks he's a disappointment because he's not a true Reachman, and that he'll never mean as much to you as Kaie does. He adores you, worships the ground you walk on, and he thinks he'll never be good enough for you. Damn it, Madanach, your wife is dead, he's not working for the Jarl any more, he's sworn to me, what does it matter if the Forsworn find out he's your son? They already know he's an agent of yours. Wouldn't it make it better for them to know why you trust him so much?”

“Kaie would be heartbroken,” said Madanach softly, still not meeting her eyes. “She'd never trust me again.”

“Argis is heartbroken now!” Liriel snapped, remembering how he'd sounded when he'd finally confessed everything, how scared and unhappy he'd been and really no grown man should still be in thrall to their father like that – but when your father was the fearsome King in Rags, Liriel guessed it was a lot more complicated than that. All the same, damned if she was going to sit back and let her housecarl get hurt. “Look, they're clearly friends, they were laughing and joking out there just now like the old comrades they are, I think she'll cope with the news he's her half-brother.”

“You do, do you?” Madanach finally looked at her, eyes narrowing, that cold grey gaze giving her the shivers. “Think you know more about my family than I do, hmm?”

“I know about family,” said Liriel, meeting his eyes despite her heart pounding. “Will you at least think about it?”

Silence. For a long moment, silver stared into gold. Then Madanach finally nodded.

“I'll consider it,” he said, and Liriel guessed that was as close to a yes as she was ever likely to get.

“Thank you,” she told him, kissing his forehead. Madanach growled and pulled her to him, rolling on top of her once more.

“And now we're done talking about my children, perhaps we could move on to more important matters? Such as the fact you've been gone nearly a week and I've been going half-crazy with worry and not having your beautiful self here.”

“I'm very sorry,” Liriel murmured, lowering her gaze and doing her best to look demure. “How would you like me to make it up to you?”

Madanach reached down and slid a hand under her Archmage robes. “Let me show you.”

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

She needed a favour. Of course she needed a favour, Sithis forbid she turn up just for the pleasure of his company. Honestly, if she wasn't pretty and magically talented and turning out to be talented at many other things besides and able to kill dragons and indeed anything else that crossed her, he'd have shown her the door weeks ago. As it was, he must be getting soft in his old age because those beautiful yellow eyes had a way of melting his resolve.

“What is it?” Madanach asked wearily. “Tell me it's at least within the realms of the possible and something I can actually give you?”

“Would I ask you for the impossible?” Liriel asked, innocent eyes gazing hopefully up at him, red hair fanning out around her head.

“After bringing an insane jester and an Elder Scroll here, frankly I've given up on predicting anything you're likely to do,” Madanach murmured, tracing a fingertip over one of her ears. Sithis, he loved her ears, loved the delicate points and the tiny little lobes and the way she shivered when he touched them. “So what do you need this time? An elixir made of the combined blood of three different kinds of elf? The legendary Staff of Magnus? A weapon that can blot out the sun?”

“Five different kinds of elf but I'm working on it,” said Liriel. “And I've already got the Staff of Magnus. No, I just need help killing someone.”

Madanach decided not to even ask about the elf-blood elixir, or how on earth she got hold of the Staff of Magnus. Murder on the other hand, that he could help with.

“Need help, do you? Why, who's the target? Tell me it's not one of us?”

“He's not a Reachman, no, but he does live in Markarth,” said Liriel. “He's the chef at the keep, Anton Virane. He's... well... he has some information we need, and I need to get it out of him and then kill him so he doesn't talk. You've got experience murdering people on the streets, I was hoping you could give me some advice.”

Virane, Virane... Madanach knew that name. Breton chef who loudly made a point of insisting he was not a Reachman, as if that was a bad thing. Not someone whose death would exactly benefit the Forsworn, but not someone he needed alive either, and making the perils of thinking oneself above the Reach natives when in actuality you were indistinguishable from one of them quite clear could be beneficial... yes, he could handle this.

“No problem, leave it to me,” Madanach murmured, plotting the details. “I'll send word to Nepos – when you get to the city, let him know the day before you plan to interrogate the man. He can get the whole thing set up for you, cariad. Don't worry, I've got plenty of agents who'll be happy to take care of him for you.”

“I didn't mean - !” Liriel cried. “I'm quite capable of doing my own killing, you know!”

“I know,” Madanach purred, nipping at her ear. “But see it from my point of view. I could let you go off on your own to assassinate this man, or alternately I could get Nepos to make the arrangements in advance for you, and you can spend the time saved here with me instead. How does that sound, macreena?”

“I thought men your age had trouble getting hard again right after sex?” Liriel asked, smirking up at him. Not for much longer, of that he was going to make certain.

“I don't know how skilled you are in Restoration magic,” he breathed in her ear. “But I have been studying that school extensively since I got out of prison, and it turns out that once a certain level of skill has been reached, it's possible for healing magic to restore more than just one's health. Witness.”

One casting later and Liriel was squealing as he'd rolled on to his back and hauled her on top of him, watching in amusement as he slid inside her and her eyes fluttered closed.

“That is cheating,” she whispered as his fingers closed on her hips, pulling her to him.

“Are you complaining?” he teased, loving the expression on her face as he moved inside her, beautiful golden skin on show and those gorgeous breasts within touching distance and damn, he'd always loved Altmer women. It was the eyes and the cheekbones and all that magicka seething away under their cool exterior. He'd never had a chance to have one though. Not until now. Until Liriel the Dragonborn had walked into his cell in Cidhna Mine and managed to look like a queen even in prison rags. He'd felt the magicka raging from three feet away. Of course he'd wanted her. He'd even been tempted to proposition her in return for helping her escape, but mercifully he'd had sufficient wit to send her off to get indoctrinated into the Forsworn cause instead. All the same, those hours when she'd been lying asleep in his prison bed and he'd been able to do nothing at all about it had been a slow form of torture.

He'd endured it any way. All significant moments in a Reachman's life should happen under the sky, and taking Liriel for the first time was something he'd intended to be one of them. He'd known he'd see her again on the outside. He could tell from the way she'd glared at him constantly but still cared enough to see to his comfort. He'd got to her, just as she'd got to him. And now she was his, riding him and crying out as he raked his nails down her back, kissed her furiously and entwined his fingers in her hair, his beautiful Altmer losing it in his arms.

“Madanach, love you, don't stop, please, please, yes, love you, yes!” she cried as she came, and Madanach finally let go himself, it being the declaration of love that set him off. Lust getting the better of her he could understand, but he could still barely believe she felt the same way he did. Afterwards she nestled in his arms and he just held her, stroking her hair and that perfect skin of hers and never wanting her to go. Stubborn, infuriating, somehow always managing to surprise him, and never mind him ruining her for anyone else, she'd completely destroyed his chances of ever finding another. No one was ever going to live up to a Dragonborn, no one. It was a good thing he had an heir, really. And if anything happened to Kaie, he could always acknowledge Argis publically and get the lad married off to a Reachwoman, that would work.

All this for an Altmer who some might call more trouble than she was worth. Madanach didn't care. She was worth the whole world to him. Even if she did seem to be intent on getting herself killed doing something spectacularly dangerous. Well, right here, right now, she was in his arms, safe and protected. He'd bought himself a few days with her. Time to make the most of it.

Three mornings later, and the agents for Virane's murder were in place, and Liriel and Argis were heading off. Goodbyes were said, shrieking and bouncy from Cicero, affectionate if teasing from Kaie, Liriel petting Cicero and telling him to behave, giving Kaie a hug and a long embrace for Madanach. Argis growled at Cicero, gripped Kaie's hand and hugged her, and then came to Madanach, hesitating before him.

“Don't die,” said Madanach gruffly. “You're her housecarl, I'm told that means you can override her orders if it's for her own safety.”

“Sworn to my service, Argis!” Liriel shouted, glaring at Madanach. Argis lowered his eyes, hiding a smile.

“I'll be sure to keep us both alive, sir,” he said quietly. A look of pain flickered across Madanach's face as he said it, as it had done for the last couple of days every time Argis called him sir.

“You do that, lad,” Madanach said, patting his arm. “Don't break an old man's heart.”

“I won't,” Argis said, gripping Madanach's hand in his own for the briefest of seconds before mounting Liriel's horse. Liriel was already mounted on Shadowmere. A few more goodbyes, a blown kiss for Madanach from Liriel and then they were gone, Madanach's son and lover riding off to face who knew what.

Don't break an old man's heart. Everyone listening would have thought he meant Liriel, and yes, he would mourn profusely if he lost her. He'd not really expected to take another lover, certainly not find a queen. She'd be hard to replace and he'd miss her horribly.

Losing his son might just break him. Little Argis, not so little any more, but Madanach had never forgotten coming face to face with Inga again the night they took Markarth, seeing his former lover standing by her forge, battleaxe in hand, but not charging. Just defending her territory. They'd locked eyes, recognised each other and Madanach had felt his heart skip. The one Nord who'd ever been kind to him, saved his life in fact. Then he'd seen the small boy with hair the same colour as his own, exactly the right sort of age to be his, and he'd looked back at her and seen it in her eyes. He had a son. He'd snapped out to leave her, if she stayed in her home with her boy, she was no enemy of his, and Inga had taken the hint and ran back inside, barricading herself and her son in her house. He'd left two of his men on guard and moved on, but he'd not forgotten, and when he'd finally got everything settled down, he'd deliberately let his eldest daughter wander around the city, secretly rejoicing when she'd befriended her half-brother. It had been the perfect opportunity to get to know his son and get to know Inga again. He'd not returned to her bed, he'd got no intention of risking Mireen's wrath. But they'd become friends, and that was more than he'd hoped for. Then the Stormcloaks had come and... He really didn't like remembering that night when everything had slid into the Void. They'd had to drag him out of the city, Nepos telling him to go, he'd take care of things there, they couldn't replace their king. Mireen had had no compunctions about fleeing with the girls, the youngest not even three months old, but Madanach had realised Inga didn't have the protection his queen did, and not even her Nord blood might be enough to save her. He'd sent guards to get her and Argis to safety before finally fleeing as the gates smashed open.

Several nervewracking hours later, and he'd been preparing himself for the worst, for a city sacked and ruined, countless dead, Inga dead and not pleasantly, he could only guess how they'd treat a collaborator, Argis maybe dead, maybe not, maybe an orphan or at best adopted by a Nord family who'd turn him against the Forsworn and all they stood for, Mireen caught trying to flee with the girls and cut down where she stood and his baby girls dead, all of them, four innocent lives snuffed out.

And then they'd brought Argis, terrified, sobbing, absolutely traumatised, his mother dead and that had hurt to hear, it really had, but he was here, alive, safe, and Madanach hadn't even hesitated. His son was alive, and he'd sworn there and then that he'd take care of him. Argis had barely believed him and had just cried harder, but he'd not objected when Madanach tucked him up in his own bed and got him food and water. Argis had slept alongside his father until he got too big for the tent, at which point he'd been given his own on the top level. For five years, he'd had a son, a strong and healthy one, brave, fearless, skilled in combat and archery and the ability to give a bear concussion with one punch, which had saved his life and made for an excellent story. Who cared if he towered above the rest of the camp by fifteen and couldn't get to grips with the simplest spells? Madanach loved him anyway, and the feeling was absolutely mutual, he'd known it. Then he'd ended up in Cidhna Mine, seen the Nords take Argis away and he'd been forced to lie, tell them the boy had been captured in a raid, the Hags needed innocent Nord blood for a ritual. He'd not seen the boy for another five years until one day a new guard came in to see him. His son had returned, a man not a boy, left eye gone in what had been a sabre cat attack, but for all that, looking well. Apart from the downcast eyes and quietly calling him sir, not father. A Forsworn agent in the guards, trained by Nepos all this time and having had it driven home that he must act as if Madanach was his king, not his kin. Madanach agreed with the reasoning, but it still broke his heart. All the same, if Mireen had ever found out Argis existed... Madanach couldn't protect him from inside Cidhna Mine, and Argis would be powerless against Mireen's formidable magic. So he'd done the best he could and treated him like just another agent. Now he didn't know how to do anything else. He'd hoped Argis understood anyway, but now Liriel was saying he knew no such thing. His son thought he was a disappointment, and there was nothing Madanach could do about it. He wasn't sure Argis would believe him no matter how much he complimented him.

“All right,” Madanach announced to the camp. “You lot are heading off to the north. The rest of you, head south. We've got a dire situation on our hands. We're running out of jenever.”

That galvanised everyone and aside from the sentries, the rest of the camp tore out to scour every juniper tree for miles around. All apart from Kaie, who raised an eyebrow and sauntered up to her father.

“You've got two whole bottles stashed away in your tent, and I've still got a little as well. What are you up to?”

“Wanted the camp cleared,” said Madanach, leading her up to the top tier. “I need to talk to you. In private. Something I should have told you years ago.”

Maybe he couldn't make things as they'd been before. But by the gods, it was about time he did the right thing by his son. Mireen was in her grave and Madanach was done hiding.

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

“Over my dead body!” Anton Virane snapped at the Altmer in red and black staring glacially down at him. “I swore to keep it a secret, and I'll take that secret to my grave.”

The woman leaned in, yellow eyes unblinking.

“For the Dark Brotherhood, that can easily be arranged.”

“The – the Dark Brotherhood.” Now that was a whole other story, and Mara it was true, it had to be, the red and black and those cold yellow eyes, this woman was a true-born killer and no mistake, and weren't there rumours she had escaped Cidhna Mine with the Forsworn? “Now – now wait a minute, I'm sure he wouldn't want me to endanger my own life...”

Liriel listened as Anton babbled the Gourmet's identity, filing away the name and location. An Orc, interesting, she didn't think he'd one of them. Orc cooking was mostly filling and meaty from what she'd heard, not a lot of variety there. Maybe that was why he'd left home and gone to High Rock. Well, he wouldn't be going anywhere once she was done.

“Thank you, you've been very helpful,” she told the hapless chef. “That's all I needed to know. You have a good day now.”

“Wait, that's it?” Anton asked, confused. “I can go?”

“That's it,” Liriel said, smiling. “The Dark Brotherhood don't need anything else. We're done.”

“Oh! I – that's such a relief, thank you!” Anton laughed nervously. “I'll be getting back to work then. You, er, go safely.”

“I will,” Liriel murmured, taking her leave. It was as she got to the passage leading to the Keep's exit that she heard mage armour being cast, Destruction magic flaring and the sound of someone, probably the young man who'd been quietly sweeping the floor in the background, shouting “Glory to the Forsworn!”

The Dark Brotherhood may have finished with Anton Virane, but the Forsworn were just getting started.

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

Argis was waiting for her at Vlindrel Hall, ebony armour on, practicing a few moves with Dawnbreaker. He stopped as she walked in, coughing and hastily putting the sword down.

“Er... hello, I was just...er...”

“Training, I know, it's important to practice your fighting skills,” said Liriel, unable to repress a smile. So quiet and modest, unlike his father. It made for a nice change.

“Right, yeah,” said Argis, looking relieved. “So where now? Doesn't look like you're having to leave in a hurry.”

“No, thankfully, but I do need to get moving. I've got a Scroll to read and work to do.”

“No problem,” said Argis, reaching for his own sword. “When do we leave?”

Here came the part she'd been dreading. “I'm leaving within the hour. You are staying here.”

“What??” Argis cried, and now the resemblance was showing, very definitely. “With all due respect, Liriel, you can't be serious. It's dangerous, you'll need a bodyguard!”

“Yes, it'll be dangerous, which is why you're not going,” said Liriel firmly. “I can't risk you getting hurt, your father will be heartbroken!”

“I'm meant to be guarding you!” Argis cried. “You think he'll be upset if I die, he'll lose it if anything happens to you!”

“You're his son!” Liriel shot back.

“You're his queen!”

“I am not his queen!” Liriel glared at him, wishing the stubborn idiot would just give in already. Yes, no doubt about it, just like his father.

“That's not how he sees it,” Argis growled, glaring back. “Liriel, please. I'm thirty five and a highly trained warrior, I can look after myself.”

“I'm 133 and the Dragonborn Archmage, I'm no pushover myself,” said Liriel, unwilling to back down. Let a member of the House of Madanach get their way once, they'd be impossible forever. “Look, if it helps, I don't intend to go alone, I have another friend lined up. But you're not coming. I'm not risking you any more. Not now – not now I know.”

“Gods damn it, it's not like he never has,” Argis said bitterly. But he knew when to give in to the inevitable. “Fine, Dragon-Queen. Have it your way. But if you get killed...”

“I won't,” said Liriel softly, patting Argis' arm. “Thank you. You're a good man. Madanach does love you, you know. He's proud of you, he told me.”

“Yeah,” said Argis quietly, sitting down and watching as Liriel began to pack. “I'm sure he did.”

Liriel wished she could convince him Madanach meant it, but unless Madanach actually acknowledged Argis openly, she doubted he'd ever truly believe he was good enough for his father. It was sad, especially if they'd once been close. Still, she'd done what she could. She couldn't force Madanach to sort his family out.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Reading the Scroll had been the easy part. Liriel had taken Eola with her, even got her original Shrouded Armour adjusted to fit Eola properly at Warmaiden's, and they'd gone to the Throat of the World together. Whereupon Eola had shrieked to see Paarthurnax there, then squealed with delight on learning he was friendly and promised not to say a word. Then Liriel had read the Scroll, seen Alduin's banishment, learnt Dragonrend in the process, come back to herself, and then all Oblivion had broken loose as Alduin had turned up. The fight had been a hard one, but Liriel and Eola's magic had carried the day. Alduin fled, but a partial victory was no victory at all in Liriel's eyes.

“So how do I get to Sovngarde to stop him?” Liriel asked. “Ideally without having to die.”

Paarthurnax had laughed and told her she would not have to die, one of Alduin's allies might be persuaded to help, but first she'd need to trap him. In Dragonsreach. Palace of the Jarl of Whiterun. Now Balgruuf was well-disposed towards Liriel, but not so well-disposed that he'd let her just borrow his palace, not with the war going on anyway. She'd ended up having to persuade Arngeir to host a peace conference between Tullius and Ulfric, to arrange a truce so she could deal with the dragons.

So here she was, here they all were, and it was not going well. Already they'd nearly had a walk out over Elenwen's presence. Not wanting to be seen as a Thalmor sympathiser by anyone, Liriel had sided with Ulfric on that one, much to Tullius' displeasure.

Then everything had gone to the Void with Ulfric's next demand.

“We want Markarth,” Ulfric had snapped. “That silver belongs in Skyrim, not being shipped out to Cyrodiil.”

Markarth... no... Liriel had listened, powerless, as the arguing developed and it rapidly became clear that Ulfric wasn't going to back down on this one. If she wanted to defeat Alduin, she'd have no choice but to sell out the Reach. Finally, they'd all stopped to ask her what she thought the Reach was worth.

“More than you could even begin to understand, Stormcloak,” Liriel hissed. “The Reach belongs to its people, not you.”

“Oh, so it's true about you and the Forsworn then,” Ulfric purred, leaning closer, looking at her with interest. “I had wondered. A word of advice, Dragonborn. Don't get too attached. When I have won this war, I shall make sure my Jarl in the Reach has the full support of my armies in clearing that bandit rabble out for good. Skyrim belongs to the Nords, and I don't intend to let any Breton witches get in the way.”

“You will never win this war,” Liriel breathed, feeling the blood rush to her face as she repressed the urge to destroy him there and then. “Not while there is life in me.” Ulfric looked on, amused.

“You're going to fight the World-Eater – your life might be shorter than you think,” Ulfric laughed. “Don't get too confident, Dragonborn.” He turned back to Tullius, arms folded.

“The Reach for the Stormcloaks, Tullius. My only offer.”

“General, you cannot be serious!” Elisif cried from Tullius' side, and Liriel felt relieved that at least one other person felt similarly to her, albeit for very different reasons.

“I said I'll handle this, Elisif!” Tullius said sternly. Elisif sat back, clearly seething but saying nothing. Liriel felt sorry for her. Poor thing, with Tullius making all the war decisions, it was abundantly clear she didn't have a lot of real power. She wished there was something she could do for her, but what Elisif would probably most want was her husband back and the war over. Liriel couldn't really do a lot about the husband, but at least she could get this whole mess sorted out and Ulfric's head on a pike – one day anyway. For now, she'd just have to lump it.

“We want the Rift,” she heard herself say. “The Rift for the Reach, or no deal.”

Now it was Ulfric's turn to protest, but in the end, he gave up and conceded. There were a few more negotiations after that, but smaller ones, and at length the conference was done. Then a few discussions on the dragon trapping plan, and Delphine trying to get her attention, saying there was a problem, a serious one. Damn right there was. Ulfric Stormcloak's armies were going to be occupying the Reach in days, and Madanach knew nothing.

Never mind the dragons, Liriel had a King in Rags to warn.

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

A/N: Oh Ulfric, you magnificent bastard, you. Why you always got to throw a spanner in the works, hmm? Next chapter, we get to see Madanach's reaction to Liriel having just handed his country over to the Silver-Bloods.

I MUST write this. Sweetest prompt ever. <3

So cute! Thank you.

Sorry for the very long wait but I've had writers block with this story. But now I plan on finishing it today. Hopefully OP forgives me for the long absence.
~OOOOOOOOO~

Ania sat on boulder out on the grasslands of Whiterun, she was still debating if she should call Odahviing. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear why she was changing. With a shake of her head she looked up at the sky and made up her mind.

Her gaze veered towards Dragonreach and knew she had to do this. For Balgruuf and Emira she had to. “ODAHVIING” she shouted to the skies and waited.

The first roar announcing that Odahviing heard her thrummed through her being, calling to her. She watched the skies and spotted the older dragon. His red scales shimmering in the sunlight, it was beauty in motion. How the dragon seamlessly glided through the air, like poetry in motion. She watched as the dragon hovered above her for a moment before landing.

“You called thuri, yet there is no enemies nearby,” Odahviing commented his head tilted off curiously.

“I called you for information,” Ania told him as she watched the older dragon, his amber eyes staring at her intently. She felt normal now, truthfully she felt more at home right now with this dragon than she did at her own home. She loved Balgruuf, but something was always missing.

“What is it you want to know?” Odahviing asked, he brought his snout close to Dovahkiin and sniffed. He noticed that she smelled more dov than joorre. He wasn’t surprised, it was to be expected.

“Since taking Alduin’s soul I’ve noticed many changes especially towards my kiir,” she answered. “My eyes never go back to their original color, it amuses me when the joorre look at me in fear.”

“You are a dov, you have the sil of a dov, but yet it resides in the body of a joorre. Though I am not too sure you are a joorre anymore,” Odahviing answered thoughtfully. Odahviing’s eyes widened when it dawned on his she had mentioned a kiir. He glanced around nervously searching for the kiir and relaxed once more when it wasn’t near.

“What happens when your kiir is near?” Odahviing asked with a knowing look.

“No one other than my mate can come near. I’ve come close to killing people for being near her. Balgruuf suggested that I call you to Dragonsreach to speak but the thought of you near her…” she trailed off with a warning look at the red dragon.

“You truly are a dov. Live your life Dovahkiin and when the change is too much come to us on Monahven. We will be waiting,” Odahviing stated before taking flight once more. Ania watched his fly away until he was just a speck in the sky.

Ania lay in bed beside Balgruuf. He was sleeping soundly, she looked out the window and sighed wistfully. She knew there were more changes to come by the way Odahviing talked. The dovah didn’t think she was mortal anymore. That was news to her and she wasn’t sure what to think about it.

Her attention turned to her husband and she smiled softly. Even if she was like the dragons she wouldn’t leave him. She loved him. With her mind made up, she would stay for as long as Balgruuf was alive and then she would go to where she belonged. She would live as a dov.

She snuggled down into the fur blankets and curled up to Balgruuf back, she nuzzled the back of his neck and sighed with some contentedness. This was her home, where she belonged for now.

“Are you alright?” Balgruuf asked when his wife curled up to him.

“Yeah, I’m good now. I found the answers I was looking for and made my decision,” she murmured, lightly kissing on his shoulder blade.

“Should we expect more changes?” Balgruuf asked looking over his shoulder at his grinning wife.

“Always, I am Dovahkiin remember. Nothing about me is normal,” she answered with a wink before settling back down on the feathered pillow.

“Very true, my love,” he murmured as he rolled over taking her into his arms. “I wouldn’t change but give me time to become used to the new changes as they come.”

“Always,” Ania murmured kissing him lightly on his mouth and then rested her head on his shoulders in the comfort of his arms. She smiled slightly, this may not feel like home compared to being with the dov, but this was her home, where she wanted to be.
~00000000000~

Hope OP and everyone else enjoyed. Please let me know what you thought, really nervous about this fill since I was gone for a bit.

Is size kink a must? If not I'll give you a double post of two different characters. The one I am working on right now has size kink in it and more... :D

Balgruuf sat back on his throne smirking as he watched his wife walk in. He wasn’t paying attention to the man in front of him. The last few words he heard had something to do with bandits. Now that his wife had walked into the room with heated look in her and the predatory smile she wore. There was no way in hell he would be able to pay attention.

He watched as his wife nodded to the guards who vanished quickly. His brow rose as Proventus and Farengar took the kids with them as they left, all that was left was his housecarl. The man who had been speaking with him had left, he is not sure when, but he didn’t really care at the moment.

Balgruuf shifted in his seat, trying to ease the discomfort in his lower regions as he his wife walked towards him. Her amber eyes rove over him and he felt it as if it had been her own hand. He nearly groaned and then scowled when he noticed Irileth still standing nearby. She was the only one that hadn’t left.

“Irileth, leave,” Balgruuf ordered.

Balgruuf sighed when he noticed he stubborn set of her jaw, “If you don’t leave, you’ll be watching while I taste and then fuck my wife on this very throne,” Balgruuf warned her with narrowed eyes. He had the amusement to watch his housecarls eyes turn blank, and then horrified, and her grey complection greyed further. He grinned as Irileth literally ran from the room and out into Whiterun.

Ania glanced at the stairs and saw Lydia there. “Lydia, vanish,” she ordered and watched as her housecarl left the castle with Emira walking beside her.

Balgruuf’s eyes heated up as his wife walked towards him. First her armor came off, leaving her in her breastband, next was greaves, boots, breastband and then her strews. She was steps away from him naked, his member throbbing and she hadn’t touched him yet.

He met her amber eyes and saw her desire just for him. Years together hadn’t changed their love for each other, her eye still held the same lust as it did when he first bedded her.

He swallowed thickly as her finger trailed along her body to her mound.

His gaze riveted to her hand as her finger slipped between her folds. “You wish to taste this?” she purred as she removed her glistening fingers from her folds. He groaned, his hand snaking to his engorged shaft that still needed to be bared. He stroked himself through his clothes as her finger disappeared into her mouth, “a bounty fit for a king.”

Balgruuf stood quickly, not able to take this teasing his wife loved to do. He grasped her hand roughly jerking her to him. He smirked down at his small wife, he leaned down to savage her mouth with a bruising kiss, but his wife changed that idea quickly. She pushed him back forcefully until he was sitting in his throne once more.

She smiled sultry at him as she climbed onto his lap. Her eyes met his and held, her hands caressing the furs and rich material he wore. “I always wondered what it would be like to fuck you while you wear this,” she murmured softly, her amber eyes darkening with lust.

“Then its time you found out,” he purred, nuzzling her neck. “but first I want to taste that sweet nectar of yours.” He lifted her so that she was kneeling on the arms of the throne. His hands gripped her hips forcing her to arch her back as far she could go. He smiled lecherously as her hair brushed against her legs and her mound spread open for him. He nipped at her thighs, leaving light marks as he drew closer to her sweet nectar. He moaned with the first swipe of his tongue. He felt her body quiver with each swipe of his tongue.

“God Balgruuf I won’t last long if you keep that up,” she slurred through her sexual haze. Balgruuf grinned, knowing exactly what to do if he wanted to go over the edge right now. He purred against her sensitive mound and reveled in the stuttering moan his wife gave. It was a small orgasm, enough to take the edge off for her and no damage would come to his throne.

He sat his limp wife back on his lap, her eyes glazed over as her body slowly came down from its high. He caressed her soft skin, working his way between their bodies so he could free his member. He sighed in relief when he was released from his confinement, his shaft bobbed, slightly weeping as it stood at attention awaiting his wife’s warm channel.

He groaned as her small hand grasped his aching shaft. His fingers digging into her hips, trying to control his lusts or he would have spilled right then. “Enough,” he growled, throwing her legs over his shoulder as he slouched further on his throne. With one powerful thrust he buried himself deep within his wife, her walls clenching around him. “Ania, I want to see your eyes while fuck you. I want to watch your eyes as you lose yourself to me,” he purred as he lifted her and let her slowly slide over him again. Her hands were on the arm rest giving her the leverage she needed to thrust against him. Her lust filled ambers eyes held his, her thigh rubbing against his right furs as her legs tightened around his shoulders with each thrust.

He could see her love for him in her eyes. His name was uttered with each moan and gasping breath. He thrust brought a plea for more of him. Her hands caressed his face, the furs he wore. He would never tire of being with his wife, not even after years together.

Their thrusts grew urgent, Ania’s head tilted back as she was close to reaching her peak. He watched as her eyes rolled back, her body shuttered hard, a scream left her mouth as she clenched almost painfully tight around him. It was too much for him to hold back from. He groaned spilling his seed deep within her, over filling her. He hissed as Ania’s nails bit into his shoulders as she went over the edge once more.

Her body leaned limply against him, he brushed a loving kiss on top of her head as she recovered. Slowly he slipped out of her, enjoying her twitches and moans of protest. He let her lax legs fall from his shoulders so they were in a more comfortable position.

Softly he rubbed her back, waiting for her to come down from her eyes. He watched as her eyes slowly clear, “That was intense,” she murmured with a sated smile. Balgruuf chuckled fondly at her as she burrowed closer to his warmth.

“You should get dressed and I should find something to cover the throne with,” Balgruuf murmured. He smirked as she rose on unsteady legs and started redressing. He glanced at the ceiling and then back at his wife. His grin grew larger as a thought came to him. He walked over to Ania, and helped her with her buckles. “I am thinking of adding a mirror above the throne so I can watch you move for me while I fuck you,” he purred against her ear.

“Keep it up and I’ll take you again right now,” Ania moaned as the image came to her.

~ooooooooooo~

Ania walked into the throne room, tired from the missions she had just finished. She glanced at Balgruuf and noticed his predatory smile, his eyes flicked upwards. She followed his gaze and spotted a mirror, her eyes met his once more.

“Irileth, clear the throne room,” Ania stated, giving Balgruuf a sly smile.

THE END

guh

i-i'll be in my bunk.

Aww, I´m just playing a F!Altmer DB and my character is very depressed about this fact. Especially since all the guys she wants don´t respond - Aicantar, Legate Fasendil (hell, even Ondolemar would do, even if he´s a jerk).

Mostly, she wants a tall guy because... well, in some positions a shorter guy just can´t reach :D

What I´d love to see would be some creative (or at least funny) solutions to this tiny little problem ;)

Anyway, SECONDED! The promt is great as it is (but I´d really love to see my "problem" incorporated in it as well :3 )

This is so beautiful and well-written, holy talos... I really, really love this. Please continue!!

*sets up camp patiently*

A!A, this is wonderful! It's so well written and lovely and the sex was hot and Eitri is adorable (please don't kill him) and I really like Freyja. It can be really hard to write Nord DBs and keep them from becoming walking stereotypes but you've really given her depth.

Awesome story, I really love it!

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