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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.

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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Daughter of the Reach 1c/1

[(Anonymous)]

“More dead men’s clothes.” He muttered, suddenly not feeling quite as uneasy about it as he pushed past her and began to examine the carefully folded shirts and cuirasses.

To his relief, the Silverhand had not yet destroyed his wolf armour, and he put it on without caring about the girl who might be watching behind him.

“Those are your clothes?” She asked, sitting on the table by the door and letting her feet swing.

“Yes. It is the armour of a Companion.” He told her, not caring to mask the emotion he felt at having it back.

“I thought the Companions are supposed to be brave?”

“What?” He spun to face her, and match her words with his own ire, only to find her with a genuinely curious look on her face, head tilted to the side and her fingers fiddling with the fabric lying on the table.

“I have heard stories of the Companions, that they are good at killing things, and that they are not afraid. But here you are, encased in metal and leather.”

“And your own people walk about naked?” He scowled.

“Well, yes. Surely there is nothing more frightening than an enemy who does not need to hide behind such steel when they are fighting?”

Vilkas opened his mouth to retort how stupid such a sentiment was before he forced himself to bite back his reply. The girl had saved his life, and her rudeness appeared to be unintentional, for now.

“When we reach Whiterun I’ll show you the companions, and what a fine company they are. Then you will see.” He promised, clasping shut the final buckle to his armour. “The journey is a good day’s walk back to Whiterun, its already late; we should wait until the morning.”

The girl shrugged and slipped off the table and Vilkas had to force himself not to stare lest the skimpy material flash more than was decent.

“If we stay here, then more of your enemies might turn up, and I do not want them to catch us in their home. I do not think they would approve of the bodies.”

“You say that from past experience?” He asked, meaning it to be a jest as he picked up one of the scabbards, his own great sword nowhere to be seen.

She shrugged, and motioned him to follow her out.

“Where are your weapons?” He asked her, allowing himself to glance at her hips that held a small satchel around the leather belt that seemed to hold her skirt up.

“They come when called.”

“You don’t even have a dagger?”

“Why would I need a dagger?” She glanced at him again before opening the large door that led to the outside. “I have my magic.”

Vilkas suppressed a shudder; of course, she’d have to be a mage. “You shouldn’t rely just on your magic.” He told her, now keeping a few steps behind her as she breathed a little ball of light into her palm and cast it into the night just above her head.

“Says the man who needed saving by a tiny woman.” She repeated his words back to him and he cringed, of course she wouldn’t need to be muscled, or tall, she relied entirely on her magic.

“It’s wrong to deal with such… unnatural things.”

“Hah!” Her laughter was more like a bark as she continued walking into the darkness, the little light bobbing above her head lighting the path ahead for her. “Says the werewolf.”

Vilkas’ blood ran cold.