skyrimkinkmeme (
skyrimkinkmeme) wrote2011-10-29 12:36 pm
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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.
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Inevitability Part 2 1/2
(Anonymous) 2013-05-09 08:40 am (UTC)(link)Dyce, to his mild surprise, would be fifty in a few short years, but while innkeeping was his main profession, thievery and adventuring were still very lucrative sidelines for him, and while he didn’t climb the walls with the sheer speed he had in his younger days, he had no difficulty working his way up.
Sometimes he arrived via the front door, but since the coronation he’d preferred to avoid the attention he always got in Skyrim’s royal court.
He reached a darkened window that he knew well, and he jimmied it open one-handed and slithered inside. Sometimes Ulfric would be working, and he’d look up from his desk with exasperation and ill-concealed pleasure at seeing Dyce again. Sometimes he’d be absent, and Dyce would either help himself to food and mead and settle down to wait, or he’d move something out of place and leave again.
Sometimes the first Ulfric would know of his arrival would be his breath in his ear and Dyce’s leg sliding over his hip. And Ulfric would growl to wakefulness, rolling them over and pinning Dyce to the bed. He’d lecture him on how it was dangerous to sneak up on a king, and he was lucky to be alive and they both knew Dyce would do it again regardless.
This time Ulfric was asleep. The only light was the reddish glow of a few coals in the fireplace, but it was enough for Dyce to put his pack down on the rug and close the window again. He could hear Ulfric breathing, and he drifted over to the bed, and crouched beside it, looking at his aged lover.
His hair and beard were silver now, and the lines on his face had deepened and multiplied over the years. He looked no less the king he’d always knew he’d been. Dyce knelt beside him and his brow creased and Dyce smiled a cryptic, sad, knowing smile he saved for someone who was never in the room.
This brought back memories.
Dawnstar was freezing, as always. Dyce was starting to feel less overwhelmed by his impulsive purchase of the Bee and Barb and was looking forward to getting away from it all for a few weeks. He hadn’t been to Nightcaller Temple in months, and he made a point of visiting at least four or five times a year.
Maybe he could persuade Erandur to come and visit the inn. As usual he’d insist he was just making a pilgrimmage to the Riften temple but he never objected when Dyce took him back the long way.
Dyce pushed the heavy doors open, already anticipating the warmth inside. Over the years he’d foisted on Erandur various bits of furniture and other things he’d just happened to carry up the hill and couldn’t be bothered carrying back down again. One overenthusiastic visit he’d constructed him some bookshelves, that were, now he looked at them properly, slightly crooked.
“Erandur! Are you home?” Surely he wasn’t out preaching in this weather.
A cough alerted him to the Dunmer’s presence and he made his way back to the bedroom. The old priest was sitting by the fire, swathed in furs and he smiled to see his visitor. Dyce shed his pack and hurried over. Erandur opened his arms and Dyce hugged him.
“Remember the inn I told you about?” Dyce asked.
“Indeed,” Erandur replied.
“I opened it. Well, reopened it. And you have to visit. I insist.”
Erandur chuckled, “When I’m feeling better perhaps?”
Dyce frowned and pulled his glove off his hand and placed it over Erandur’s forehead. “Are you sick?” He felt clammy and cold.
Erandur coughed. “I’m fine, really. The cold gets to me more than it used to.”
Dyce got to his feet and frowned, “Well then why in the world are you here? It’s freezing. Riften will do you good.”
Erandur shook his head, “I’ve lived most of my life in the Pale. Not many Dunmer could say the same.”
“What? Erandur, you can come back if you want when you’re better. Can’t you?”