Meme Announcements!

[skyrimkinkmeme]

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

Comments

Re: Songs for Nomads 9.7/9

[(Anonymous)]

Freyja looks up, surprised. "I'm not so old that I can't remember faces, child," Fralia says, smiling. "You and my Olfina used to get into such mischief. Don't think I don't remember the captain of the guard dragging you in by your ears with the word that you'd dropped a bird's egg on his head - from the roof of Dragonsreach, no less."

Freyja laughs, short and startled. "I'd forgotten that, truth be told."

"You should see her, before you go," Lady Grey-Mane says. "She'll want to hear her brother's safe, and she's missed you since you left all those years ago. This war's been hard on her."

"I'd like that," Freyja says, and finds that it's true. She's almost forgotten what it is to have a childhood confidante just a stroll away.

"You'll see her tonight, if you room at the Bannered Mare," the woman says. "Though you're welcome to stay here. We're simple folk, but we've meat and mead and a spare bedroom now Avulstein's gone. It's the least we could do, truly.” She turns to Eitri. "And you, young man - I owe you a debt as well."

"Introduce me to the man who forged that weapon," he says low and fervent, "and I'll consider it paid."

"It's settled, then," Fralia says. "You'll stay for dinner at least, if you won't spend the night." She smiles. "And Eorlund will be polite if it kills him."

* * * * * * * *

Some three hours later they push through the door of the Bannered Mare. The tavern is rich with the smells of roast goat and woodsmoke and mead, but their stomachs are full of Fralia Grey-Mane’s venison stew, and Freyja shoulders her way to the counter merely to buy a room for the night.

“I’ve only got the one above the common room left,” says the innkeep. “Bit noisy up there, I’m afraid, but there’s a nice little balcony, and the bathhouse is free.” A steam bath sounds like a little piece of heaven – tomorrow. Tonight Freyja just wants to fall into bed; her ankle is still sore, in spite of the healing potion. “Is Olfina Grey-Mane here?” she asks.

“She ran out to chop more firewood,” says the innkeeper, cheerfully. “Loves the fresh air, that girl. Hang on – Jon, won’t you have another mead?” This to one of her patrons, as she sees him rise from the bar out of the corner of her eye.

“Don’t tempt me, Hulda,” he smiles, but hurries out all the same.

“Sorry,” says the innkeeper, turning back to Freyja. “Attic room’s all right, then?”