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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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Madanach raised his eyes to hers, almost pleading with her. “I was hoping you could tell me. For centuries, decades, the Forsworn and Brotherhood worked together, their Skyrim Sanctuaries sending assistance while we trained their assassins. We were the Hands of Sithis and we struck where we wanted. But after the Oblivion Crisis, it started to fall apart. Something happened in the Brotherhood in Cyrodiil, there was some internal crisis, a betrayal, I don't know what. One of the Skyrim Sanctuaries was closed and its occupants summoned to Cyrodiil to bolster failing numbers there after a Sanctuary was wiped out. The other Sanctuary couldn't send people any more and the agreement started to fade. No big argument, no falling out, but a fading. By the time I was Reach-King, the alliance was a distant memory, but we still remembered. The Hags still knew it and they said you would return, that the Dread Father had not abandoned us. We kept hoping it was true. But then it all went wrong, I ended up dethroned and on the run, not even able to see my wife and daughters more than a few times a year in case the Nords followed me to them. Then my eldest, Eithne, turned fourteen and came to join me here – and weeks later, the Nords found us. She died defending me. Ulfric Stormcloak Shouted her to the floor and stabbed her through the heart. He'd have killed me too and after seeing my baby girl murdered, I wouldn't even have cared, but Thonar was there and he decided I could be useful. You know the rest.”

“Madanach,” Liriel whispered. “Sithis help me, I'm so sorry.” She closed the gap between them, wrapping her arms around him and holding him. She heard him exhale sharply, then felt his hands on her skin, sliding around her back as he pulled her closer, clinging on to her like a drowning man clings to the one that rescues him. Liriel just held him, silently screaming to Sithis why, why the Brotherhood had fallen apart, why it was just one Sanctuary and that never likely to care about a group of rebels with no coin to pay them. Astrid didn't care about the Night Mother and would never bother with the Forsworn. Of all of them, Cicero was the only one who might actually understand – but he'd never leave the Night Mother. It was just her, the Listener of the Night Mother, with a Sanctuary that would never listen to her in turn.

“Don't give me your apologies,” he growled, voice muffled where he was leaning against her shoulder. “Just tell me why.”

She owed him that, at least. From the sounds of it, he was a more devoted son of Sithis than anyone in Falkreath.

“I don't know why,” Liriel said quietly. “But I can tell you what happened, as far as I know it.” So she told him what Cicero and Astrid had told her, that there'd been trouble in Cyrodiil after the war and the other Sanctuaries had been closed or fallen apart, and then the Night Mother's Crypt had been attacked. Madanach listened, growing pale to hear how the Night Mother's body had been rescued and brought back to Cheydinhal, the last Cyrodiil Sanctuary standing, but that the Listener, the only one who could hear the Night Mother's words and pass on the contracts, was dead and the Night Mother never chose a new one.

“Wait a second,” Madanach interrupted. “Are you saying that the Night Mother's physical remains are her conduit to you all, and she only talks to one of you? This Listener?”

Liriel nodded. “Yes. That's how the Sacrament works, the Night Mother hears it and tells the Listener and they send someone out to meet the client. But there wasn't a Listener any more and the Night Mother never talked to anyone. So the Sacrament never worked and Cheydinhal Sanctuary fell apart. The Sanctuary in Falkreath is the last one, and it still works but it doesn't rely on the Night Mother. Astrid, that's our leader, has got contacts and regular customers all over the place and she takes work off them. But if you performed the Sacrament in secret in Cidhna Mine, Astrid would never have known to come find you.”

Slowly, she felt Madanach let her go, sitting upright and grimacing as he did so, staring into the dying fire.

“The Night Mother no longer speaks,” he whispered. “The Crone of Crones, Matriarch of Matriarchs, she is silent. Gone into the Void. And all that is left is one Sanctuary. Anu preserve us, and I thought we had it bad.”

Liriel wondered if she ought to tell him. She didn't know if it would do any good. It wasn't like she had any real power. Listener of the Night Mother, but she had one Sanctuary at her disposal and they didn't recognise her as leader.

“No one else must ever know this, Liriel,” Madanach was saying, sounding utterly despairing. “They can never know that the Black Hand of Sithis will never open for us again. You have no idea, Liriel, no idea what the Ascension of the Night Mother meant for us. It was the promise that we could commune with Sithis himself, channel his power, influence him and use his gifts to bring down all in our way. That's why we trained Brotherhood assassins, that's why we sent many of our own to join their ranks. They were Sithis Incarnate, true-born killers. To know that's not true any more, that Sithis has abandoned them... Liriel, if this got out, it would be the end of us. If Sithis abandoned the Brotherhood, what's to stop him doing the same to us? Maybe he already has. All things must die. Maybe we're not meant to win.”

Madanach was staring into the fire, shoulders hunched, and for the first time since she'd known him, Liriel could sense something dying inside, the spark that had lit a rebellion and taken the Reach the first time, the spark that had kept him alive in Cidhna Mine all this time, finally going out. It was breaking Liriel's heart. She'd take the insults and the taunting and the calling her Queen of Dragons like it meant something, if it just meant he kept his spark. If he lost that... she knew without doubt he'd likely not see his sixtieth birthday.

“He hasn't abandoned us,” Liriel heard herself saying. “It's not hopeless. Madanach, the Night Mother's Keeper survived somehow – he was the one tasked with taking care of the remains. He kept them safe, kept them pristine and he brought them to Skyrim this year. He got to the Sanctuary just after I joined, we've got the Night Mother there now. The conduit's still open, Madanach. She spoke to me. She said I was her Listener now. Except... except Astrid won't hear of it and insists I should obey her instead, and the rest of the Sanctuary, everyone except the Keeper, all back her. So I don't think I'm going to be much good to you or anyone, but-” She didn't have the chance to finish the sentence. Madanach had turned to face her as she'd talked, eyes getting wider by the second.

“You. Are Listener.”

Liriel nodded, biting her lip and wondering if she should have kept quiet.

“The Voice of the Night Mother. The Chosen of Sithis. You. Liriel, the great and powerful Queen of Dragons.”

She should definitely have kept quiet. She nodded, tensing up and preparing for the inevitable mockery. She was right in one respect. He did laugh. He threw back his head, howling with joyous laughter, the spark more than back. It had turned into an unholy conflagration, and Liriel began to fear it had sent him mad. It seemed the guards on duty were thinking something similar.

“Er, boss?” and that was Duach who had given her Skooma after she'd pretended to be an addict. “Are you alright over there?”

“Yes!” Madanach laughed. “Yes, I'm fine, I'm more than fine! Sithis answered our prayers, boys!”

A pause. “That's lovely, boss, but we didn't pray for you to go mad.”

Madanach shot a glare in his direction. “Were I not in such a good mood, you'd be on the receiving end of a lightning bolt up your backside, Duach.”

Duach laughed good-naturedly and called to his fellow guard. “Yeah, he's alright, Mhairi. Back to normal.” Mhairi laughed in turn and the two of them resumed looking out over the valley. Madanach rolled his eyes and winced as he pulled himself to his feet, extending a hand to Liriel. She took it, allowing herself to be hauled upright.

“Madanach, don't expect miracles, the Sanctuary all follow Astrid, not me!” she said weakly. “It's just me and Cicero the Keeper who still follow the Night Mother, and Cicero's insane.”

Madanach didn't even seem to care. “So, you're the rightful leader of a once great force of murdering bastards, but you can't do your job properly because of some controlling bitch who won't release her grip on power, is that right?”

That pretty much summed it up, yes. Madanach nodded, looking sympathetic.

“Yes, believe it or not, I know exactly how that feels. Come on, let's get inside. We've got a lot to talk about. You may not realise it, but this changes everything.”

Liriel really couldn't see how anything had changed at all, but Madanach seemed fairly determined. She might as well see where this was going.

“What do we need to talk about?” she asked, and then it occurred to her he'd never answered her question.

“You told me what I wanted to know,” said Madanach, grinning back at her as he led her into Druadach Redoubt. “Time I told you what you were after and then how to go about rectifying matters. Listen well, Listener. Time you learnt how the Forsworn actually function.”

Liriel followed inside eagerly. It looked like she was finally going to get some answers, and if she was really lucky, the pommel stone of Mehrunes' Razor might just fall into her hands. Not to mention that she might just have acquired a more powerful supporter against Astrid than a half-mad jester...

~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Hope you all liked it - this one was mostly setup but it's setup for some great possibilities.

M'inyeen is from the Irish for my daughter and Slanta is based on traditional Irish toast slainte. Jenever is gin by any other name.

Next chapter is Forsworn internal politics and the beginning of a reborn Brotherhood/Forsworn Auld Alliance...

Ahaha, I love Madanach shooting hawks out of the sky with shock magic. Comical but also - as you point out - dangerously competent. I love all of it, really. Can't wait for more!

I liked the background stuff for this chapter. Gotta set it up definitely. I am getting more of a wildling and King-Beyond-The-Wall feel than Drothraki which makes a lot of sense for the Forsworn, but the pure charisma of Drogo is definitely there for Madanach. Can't wait to see what he has planned for next time. =D

I am going to see if I can work in a few Dothraki elements, but the problem with the Dothraki is that their entire culture is based on them being horse-dwelling steppe nomads whereas the Forsworn live in the Reach which is mostly vertical and probably the worst riding country in Skyrim. Also the Dothraki seem to fear and despise witchcraft whereas the Forsworn revere the Hagravens and they nearly all seem to be able to use magic. But I will do what I can. Glad you like it so far!

I know what you mean because I pretty much had the same thoughts. I did like their conversation being outside. Not only did it tie in nicely with Madanach enjoying the sky for the first time in almost two decades, but I thought of the line, "For the Dothraki, very important thing happened that happened in a man's life occurred under the open sky." Very appropo for them to share information under the open sky. =)

At least the Forsworn have goats to ride!

The open sky bit is exactly what I was going for! :D Big Forsworn rituals happen out in the open because that's where all the space is, and it's become a tradition.

The other Dothraki tradition going straight in there is a relative lack of privacy in a Forsworn camp and rather permissive attitudes towards sex, but that can all come later...

Anon is looking forward to laaaater~

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