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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You mull that idea over in your head. If that's his very last drink, the stranger's probably already on his way to being drunk. He'd probably welcome another one, if not the company.

You make your mind up, and hand your unopened bottle of mead back to the barkeep. “Two Black-Briar meads, if you've got them friend.”

“Aye I do,” Barkeep smiles, but it's sad and shambling still. A little guilty, too. “Get a good price on them from a contact in Riften. Best you keep that to yourself.”

You take a bottle in each hand and turn to face the direction of the man in the corner. He hasn't noticed a word of the exchange between yourself and Barkeep but now he notices you. His face is covered with dirt, like any common mercenary, thicker around the eyes than anywhere else. His gaze drifts down to the two bottles of mead in your grip and one eyebrow raises ever so slightly.

No great masterpiece was ever made without a little suffering, a snide little voice reminds you.

Without another moment's hesitation, you approach him.

Where Eyja went, no man can say;

Nor any true answer be found.

Two went up t'the Throat of the World,

But only one came down.

**

In Falkreath, two brothers went hunting. They were twins, though there were many marked differences between them. The oldest brother, Vilkas, was taller and better with words. The youngest, Farkas, was stronger and slower to anger. Both were Companions of the mead-hall, Jorravskr, in Whiterun. They'd heard talk of a legendary white stag, and thought it'd make for a pleasant distraction; and perhaps a good story to tell when they returned.

The first two hours of their hunt went by very slowly and not much was said. The youngest brother, Farkas, was beginning to regret inviting Vilkas to hunt with him. They'd journeyed through Riverwood, turned close by to the ruins of Helgen and stopped in Falkreath hold for a quick drink. For all the time they sat in Dead Man's Drink the eldest brother, Vilkas, had sat stony and silent, pondering the bottom of his cup. It was winding down from Autumn outside, and the farms they'd passed just outside off Whiterun had been full of the last of the crops. Not much was spoken. They drank, paid, and moved on.

The legendary stag seemed to be little more than legend for the two brothers, who decided to set up a camp and roast their less-impressive deer for dinner. Wind whistled through the tall, dark pines and made the fire pop and crackle and the branches creak. Farkas grew sick of his brother's surliness and tried to break the silence.

“You want to talk,” he said to his brother.

“You don't like talking,” Vilkas replied. The smell of meat cooking rose with a plume of smoke and made the birds shift restlessly in the trees. It was true. Farkas was not known for being much of a speaker. Many of his friends and the other Companions had given him the nickname 'Ice-brain'.

Here, the stranger stops to gulp a mouthful of mead. You see the corner of his mouth twitch and watch his lips lick the last drops. He seems fond of the brothers in his story. You have the feeling that he knows them well.

“I like listening,” said Farkas, stoic and stubborn. There was little that could dissuade him when his mind was set on something, and he was set on making his brother talk.

“Even to your brother's foolish complaints?” Vilkas smiled, but the expression lacked any real feeling to it.

Farkas smiled back. “Even to those, brother.”

The camp became silent but for the fire and the ever-present music of the trees. The sun was starting to settle over the trees and turn everything to dim shades of peach and grey.

Until suddenly, Vilkas began to speak. His voice settled into a low monotone, as if he didn't want to be heard. Farkas could just about hear his brother, and only because of the sheer deepness of his voice. He spoke very quietly.

“Eyja told me to wait for her in Ivarstead...” he began, at last. “The dragon wouldn't let anyone else on his back. She didn't mind. She'd always believed that she'd be facing Alduin alone, no matter anyone's promises...”

**

“Eyja? When does Eyja come into the story? Barkeep says you knew her well,” you cut him off without thinking. He'd taken a long time to start the story and already you feel a bit of a buzz from your drink. “Are you in this story, friend?”

“Shut up,” the man growls at you. You've upset him. Drunk's are quick to anger mind, and his eyes are cloudy from his mead. “And don't speak her name like you knew her, whelp.”

It was a slip of the tongue. You've followed the Dragonborn's exploits so closely, it's almost as if you truly did know her. It's funny that, you realise. How both you and this stranger spoke of the Dragonborn in past tense. As if she has passed on. Recently departed.

That sense of foreboding returns.

“I'm sorry friend,” you soothe, and gesture to the barkeep for more drink. He has been watching you both and starts in surprise. He nods. Busies himself. “Please,” you say. “Carry on."

Until suddenly, Vilkas began to speak. His voice settled into a low monotone, as if he didn't want to be heard. Farkas could just about hear his brother, and only because of the sheer deepness of his voice. He spoke very quietly.

Eyja told me to wait for her in Ivarstead...The dragon wouldn't let anyone else on his back. She didn't mind. She'd always believed that she'd be facing Alduin alone, no matter anyone's promises... Likes to go off on her own, even it's just sitting up by the Sky-Forge and swinging her legs over the edge.

Aye, says Farkas. And you'd sit in the shadows and watch her like a moon-struck pup!

Aye. Wondering if I should talk to her, stay where I was, or head on inside. But I'm not talking about the things you've already seen or know, or anything that happens back in Jorravskr. I'm talking about when Eyja came down from the mountain, so listen.

I saluted her when she crossed the bridge. She didn't look up from the ground, but I knew she saw it. She sees everything, that one. Something was off about her. I could see the gold-- yes, gold-- glow of her eyes even though she was staring at her boots. I waited until she crossed the bridge entirely, watching the wind whip through her hair. She looked up.

And her eyes were gold.

Her eyes are blue, Vilkas... I really thought you might have noticed that...

Go back to Jorravskr. See it for yourself.

Eyja looked up. Didn't smile.

“Hope you weren't waiting too long,” her voice was all hoarse and cracked. She smelt like burnt hair and skin, but she looked liked she'd just emerged from the river itself all white and clean. Her lips were chapped, and brown with blood. Dry. If I still had the beast, I would've probably smelled all the blood on her. Could smell it when she got close. Didn't choke. Used to it, of course.

“He's dead. Very few dragons are going to bother Skyrim anymore.”

“You sound sad about that,” I said.

“I am,” she replied, and she looked it. Her shoulders were slumped. She walked a bit crooked, like she wasn't used to her legs or she'd been drinking. She was exhausted.

I didn't want to mention her eyes. Eyja's nearly as tall as you or me. Hard not to think about the gold when her gaze more or less meets mine level. The way she was staring right at me, made me think she either didn't know or didn't want me to mention it either. I mentioned it.

Don't look at me like that, Vilkas growls at his brother. You might think I'm acting a fool, and you might laugh at me, but I know Eyja's eyes. Every speck of them. They were blue when she flew from the balcony at Dragonsreach, and gold when she came down from the mountain.

Sorry, Farkas rearranges his face as solemn as he can make it. It's just weird, is all.

I kept quiet about Alduin and her eyes all the way back to Whiterun. She stayed quiet all the way back, too. In fact, I think it was the longest we ever went without talking. I didn't want to say much anyway. Momentous moments in our lives shouldn't be ruined with a load of sentimental crap. Words don't mean much in moments like those.

I mentioned the eyes before we got back to Jorravskr, though. When we stopped in The Bannered Mare for a drink. Eyja laughed at me. Called me mistaken. Liar.

“Don't worry,” she mocked me. Hid her smile behind a bottle of mead and swung her gold-speckled gaze in the direction of Mikael--

--

“Mikael?”

“A poncy little bard like you. Shut up. Listen.”

--

“Don't worry,” she mocked me. Hid her smile behind a bottle of mead and swung her gold-speckled gaze in the direction of Mikael with a derisive snort. “I don't think I could love a man who waxed lyrical about my eyes anyway.”

I couldn't be sure if she was laughing at me, Mikael, or both of us. Maybe Eyja was laughing at everyone--

“And Vilkas was angry because...?”

“You know for a bard, you make for a shitty audience.”

“I'm sorry. Just curious is all.”

“...Vilkas was angry. Because the love of his life barely spoke a word to him on the long trip back to Whiterun. And because when they got back to Whiterun and he spoke to her, she lied. Lied, and laughed.”

“Of course. I'm sorry.”

“What for?” He barks at you. “It's just a story. Now, do you have any more questions or can I carry on?”

The stranger licks his lips and looks away just as you shake your head. Your talking seems to get on his nerves. So, silently, you open up another bottle of mead and pour it for him. He nods begrudgingly in thanks.

Then, he parts his lips to speak and continues his tale...

**

Hope OP isn't confused. I have too much fun playing with POVs and trying new things >__< Got all this motivation when I realised I was filling TWO of your prompts. Plus whilst I went over the second part of In The Company of Wolves, this was nagging in the back of my head. >__<

Um. Wow?

Is the stranger Vilkas? Is it?

This story is going to play havoc with my feels, isn't it. It is, isn't it!!

o and I like the 'you' bit. :o

Thank yoou.

Yep, it is. And yep, it is :p

Oh, OP is floating in the clouds of happiness and beautiful Nord men over my love FOR YOU A!A AND YOUR BEAUTIFUL WRITING.

I love that Eyja is this big, beautiful woman, AND I'm so glad you used the golden eyes bit (I always viewed Alduin's defeat as more of an absorption of who he was, even though he probably wasn't dead completely, thus the physical and emotional changes). I have to admit too that I have always had a wee bit of a crush on Vilkas, but turned my nose up at him in the game purely because of his 'tude towards the DB. I can't help but love him though, you know?

AND I love the style of this! I was thinking, as I was prompting it, that it might be hard to choose a POV to stick with, if not jumping around with it a bit, and I totally dig your direction with this. Exceptional stuff, A!A, your biggest fan the OP is veerryyyy excited!

Clouds of beautiful Nord men? And your floating in them? Where can I find this phenomenon? :p

Thank you for the splendid compliments OP :3 I agree with you on the Vilkas thing... but I always end up marrying Marcurio or Farkas everytime :p

I LOVE stories within stories, and you are doing it brilliantly!

Thank you :))

Whoa, A!A. Whoa.

I am blown away by this fill. The direction you chose to take this prompt is so unexpected but so good. I love stories framed within a story especially when done so well.

The mood you captured is so good and it makes me want to curl up with a blanket in my favorite armchair with a warm drink as I read and let myself get swept away by the tale you've woven. I love your descriptions and the feelings they evoke. There's just something so special about it.

I think Vilkas is the one telling the story to the Bard as if it's something that happened to someone else and my heart is breaking for him. I'm so curious to read the rest. I hope you'll continue it soon.

I love oral narrative and stories that read like theyre being told by someone to someone else :p Im very glad you like it!

Thank you for the wonderful comments! Tickles me pink to read them ;p

Yes indeeeed, it's Vilkas. Poor wolf-man </3

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Meme Announcements!

Eyja Went Up The Mountain F!DB/Vilkas [2b/?]

Eyja Went Up The Mountain F!DB/Vilkas [3/?]

Eyja Went Up The Mountain F!DB/Vilkas [4/?]

Re: Eyja Went Up The Mountain F!DB/Vilkas [4b/?]

Re: Eyja Went Up The Mountain F!DB/Vilkas [4b/?]

Re: Eyja Went Up The Mountain F!DB/Vilkas [4b/?]

Re: Eyja Went Up The Mountain F!DB/Vilkas [4b/?]

Re: Eyja Went Up The Mountain F!DB/Vilkas [4b/?]

Re: Eyja Went Up The Mountain F!DB/Vilkas [4b/?]

Re: Eyja Went Up The Mountain F!DB/Vilkas [4b/?]

Re: Eyja Went Up The Mountain F!DB/Vilkas [4b/?]

Re: Eyja Went Up The Mountain F!DB/Vilkas [4b/?]