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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

From: (Anonymous)
Audric rode hard, his thighs cramping from exertion. He could feel the exhaustion in his horse’s gallop, but pressed on anyway. Windhelm was only another hour away, at this speed. Despite being on the road, though, his thoughts remained in his basement, tucked neatly in a hiding hole he had excavated in the stone. Nestled deep amongst must and mortar, in a damp corner of his modest home, there lay an Elder Scroll.

He also continued to revisit his contest with Alduin, reliving his mistakes and kicking himself at every opportunity. He imagined all of the ways it could have gone instead until he was tangled up in the coils of What-If, its venom poisoning his veins and souring his mood. The cold didn’t help, either. The weather was gray, the sky a sheet of dull metal, tarnished with dark stormclouds. The promise of snowfall tasted sharp in the air. He dismounted at the stables and left his horse in the reliable — if annoyingly cheerful — care of Ulundil.

The city proper felt barren. Shutters had been latched and the streets were devoid of any sign of life. The bare branches of trees appeared to scrape against the dismal sky. Loose crumbs of gravel and shards of ice broke and crunched beneath Audric’s boots, and it was so quiet that he winced upon entering the palace, for the doors let out such a groan as if in agony.

Jorleif, who was seated at the far corner of the dining table, glanced up and then his eyes turned wide, filled with something akin to awe. He regarded Audric like a spirit, looking pale, relieved, and horrified in turns. “By Ysmir, is it...is it really you?”

“It certainly isn’t Vivec,” he answered sarcastically.

“No, it’s only…” Jorleif stood, the rush of air behind him agitating the papers on the table. “Bellamy,” he said breathlessly, “we all saw it. We saw the storm on the mountain; you could watch from the city streets. And then, the noise like thunder. Was that —?”

“Yes, it was.” Audric cut him off, uncomfortable with the question before it was asked.

“But then we saw Alduin! Flying away, alive and....”

“We both survived, but only because the bastard turned tail. Where’s Ulfric?”

“Ah.” Jorleif looked supremely discomfited, and began fidgeting. “Like I said, we came to our own conclusions. There’s been mourning in the streets; we had to send guards down to the Gray Quarter, it was so clogged with…” Jorleif struggled to find the least offensive description.

“Oh, spit it out.”

“I’m sorry, I know how fond of them you are.”

Jorleif. Nevermind your prejudices, where is Ulfric?”

The steward averted his eyes, looking displeased at being admonished. “He left with the rest of the war party, about a day ago.”

“They left without me?!” Audric yelled. His voice bounded off of the stone and got lost in the vaulted ceiling.

“We thought you were dead! And can you blame us?”

“Yes. Anyway, I suppose I’m off to Solitude. Goodbye, Jorleif, and try not to give anyone any trouble in my absence. If the weather gets you down, Ambarys Rendar sells a fine liquor at his Cornerclub. Warms up the insides quite nicely.”

He barely stayed long enough to savor the expression on Jorleif’s face.
From: (Anonymous)
It should’ve been less of a challenge to catch up to the company, but a recent storm had covered the roads and he’d exhausted his poor horse. What might have taken only a few hours took the rest of the night: he slumped in his saddle and cursed the deep drifts of snow as they plodded through it. It wasn’t until sunrise that he found where the tracks picked up again: deep ruts from wagon wheels and innumerable hoofprints had churned the snow and the ground beneath it. It wasn’t difficult to guess the path they were taking, and a lonely road patrol in the Pale confirmed that they had ambled through the day before. Audric traded his horse for the intel and snatched more than a few coin purses on his way. On foot, he cut through the snowcovered forests, cowl up and hood drawn to avoid being whipped by frozen branches.

At the top of a hill, he spotted them, a band of eighty at least. Like a shadow, he slid down the snowy bank; losing his footing at the bottom, he skidded onto the road splayed on his back, laughing. He accepted one of several hands offering to help him up. A tide of whispers rolled through the ranks and faces hidden behind helmets turned to watch as he pushed his way to the front. It was unnerving, and he tried to brush it off.

Ulfric was leading, Galmar at his side, of course.

Audric climbed onto the supply wagon and perched at the front, and then called, “Ulfric!”

The man in question jerked around in genuine, undignified surprise and his eyes widened, wet with either cold or relief.

“You started the party without me; how very unsporting of you.” Audric wagged a finger teasingly, but his insistent playfulness failed to lighten the mood. “Ulfric?” He wasn’t used to his humor going unappreciated.

When he finally managed to rein in his emotions, Ulfric murmured, “We’ll talk later.”

Feeling very small, Audric nodded and pulled into himself. Remorse was peculiar to him and he almost didn’t recognize it — and he certainly didn’t know where it had come from.

‘Later’ turned out to mean when they had gathered a few miles from Solitude to make camp. They stopped in a clearing, sheltered by a grassy overhang and dense forest. Audric knew the area, but not so well that he would stray by himself at night. It was frigid even here, where the stream off the coast was mild, but instead of snow, the land was soggy from a fresh downpour. He disliked the mud, but helped out anyway, grimacing all the while. The air was heavy and the sky was dark, clogged with bloated thunderheads.

Audric shuffled around the camp, loitering with the soldiers. His chest felt tight, but with what, he couldn’t tell. Guilt, longing, nerves, or even just a regular ache...it worsened when he heard Ulfric call his name. He tried to stroll casually into the tent, but it came off as a tired drag. Besides, with his head down, he looked almost humble.

Humility, Ulfric decided, did not suit him.

The silence thickened until the tension fastened itself around them both like a rope, tight, strangling. Audric resolved the matter by speaking first. “You look pale. Are you well?”
Ulfric frowned, not taking to his jokes at all. “If I seem as though I’ve seen a ghost, you’ll have to forgive me. For a while now, I thought I had.”

“Are you of so little faith?” He put up his most winning smile, but that only seemed to infuriate his friend.
“What was I supposed to make of it? A storm like armageddon at the Throat of the World? Alduin, very much alive? And you were nowhere to be found, not so much as a letter or gossip in the streets.”

“It’s not my fault!” he protested.

“Two weeks, and five days.” Ulfric rumbled solemnly. “That’s a long time not to write.”

Audric was taken aback. “I’m here now, aren’t I? And that’s got to count for something.”
From: (Anonymous)
“It counts for a quite a bit.” They both turned around, shocked at being interrupted: Tullius stood, the tent flap settling behind him. “I was worried about pulling this stunt without you. Though, I notice you’re without your entourage. Hardly surprising.”

Audric bristled. “We thieves honor our promises,” he spat. “They couldn’t have known; I told them the agreed-upon date and then you all left early.”

“With you presumably dead and gone, we didn’t want to lose our element of surprise.”

“You know,” Audric put his hands on his hips, “for such a renown tactician, you show a startling lack of tact.” Then he wheeled around, back on Ulfric. “Were you so quick to dismiss me, too?”

Ulfric took a moment to answer, but when he did, it sank heavy in Audric’s gut. “I was quick to mourn.”
Visibly uncomfortable, Tullius cleared his throat and confirmed plans curtly before taking leave. Audric stared at the space where he’d stood, puzzled. “You know, I feel remarkably like we were walked in on.”

“Weren’t we?” Ulfric replied, and Audric’s face went warm.

That night, Audric turned in early, but to little effect; the soldiers outside were rowdy, full of drink and story. He’d have liked to join them, but he didn’t relish nursing a hangover while tip-toeing through Elenwen’s solar. It was agony to listen to, though. He rolled around a bit before standing from his bedroll and pulling on a long shirt and some leggings. He paced around, resisting temptation, and just as he began to feel he couldn’t stand it any longer, he turned to find an unexpected visitor.

“Excuse you,” he scoffed, “what if I had been —?”

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” Ulfric assured him.

“What are you doing here!” he demanded, cheeks hot.

Ulfric pulled up the only chair — rickety and a little bit rotten. Not at all fit for a king. “I thought I’d try to persuade you, one last time.”  Inhaling deeply, closing his eyes, he said, “You don’t have to do this.”

Audric raised an eyebrow. “No, I really think I do. I might have been able to step down a few weeks ago but the eve of the occasion? Even I’m not that flaky.”

“This isn’t another one of your heists, Audric. You’re lucky to have escaped with your life the first time.”

“And here I thought it was going to be a tea social, like back home,” he sneered, crossing his arms. “Look, I know what I’m getting myself into. And —”

“Do you? Can you really fathom the nightmare that awaits you if you’re caught?”

Relaxing a little, Audric allowed his gaze to fall slowly over the man in front of him, trying to imagine all of the scars that must have been hidden behind all of that finery and posture. “I have a few ideas. Anyway, I’m sure if she sends me back to you in an urn, it will at least be tasteful.”

Ulfric’s brows met in an angry line. “Kill you? She won’t be so kind.”

Audric gulped. “I know that. But I have to do this.”

“No, you don’t. We can make it without you.”

“Sure, but what about all that sensitive intel? I’ve had more than my fair share of time; I can stand to buy some for this place.”

“You’ve come to love her — Skyrim — haven’t you.”

Nodding, Audric reached into his shirt and lifted his pendant out. He tried not to watch the passage of confusion and then anger on Ulfric’s face as he removed it from his neck. Taking Ulfric’s hand and prying apart his fingers, he lay the piece in his palm. “Take this back.”

It was still warm from Audric’s skin. The sapphires seemed aglow with something Aether. “What did you do with it?” Ulfric asked softly.

“I told you, I enchanted it. Nothing special, mind you. Just a little restoration charm, nothing a novice couldn’t preform…”

Ulfric clasped his old treasure in a tight grip. He was mad, though he couldn’t bear to leave on such terms. He forced his other hand out to land on Audric’s shoulder, fingers digging. Startled, Audric locked eyes with Ulfric. “Please,” he tried one last time. “Don’t go.”
From: (Anonymous)
The two of them stayed fastened in one another’s gaze, and the gravitas of what had just taken place pulled on them both, but it still wasn’t strong enough to force either hand, and it certainly wasn't strong enough to convince either man to change his mind. After what seemed like hours, Ulfric was the first to pull away.

“Goodnight, then,” he offered gruffly, and left.
Audric slipped back into bed, tingling all over, but mostly where moments before, a heavy silver pendant had lain against his chest. He felt for it, despite knowing it would not be there, and in its absence, he fondled the silver cuff on his ear and tried to think of Bryn.




Sometime in the night, the air had frozen and snow began to fall, becoming slush. The soldiers gathered together, and Audric stood among them. He stayed low and out of sight while Ulfric gave a speech; had he his way, he’d have saved the speech for a victory. When it was time for everyone to take their places, he split off from the group, a lonely swath of black in the snow and mud. The climb was hazardous, but he’d made worse. He listened to the cavalcade and prayed for the lives of strangers to gods he didn’t trust.

Audric slipped through a pine forest as a shadow against the thick trunks. He weaved in and out and under branches; he slithered over brambles; he crawled uphill through underbrush. Here, the snow began to pile up, colder and in weightier drifts than below. Light as he was, he hopped along, not dragging his feet. His heartbeat was steadily climbing into his throat, though, as he remembered what he’d seen upon his last visit. The memories burned across his eyelids: Etienne, hanging by his wrists, dirty and bruised and broken; spatters of blood and scorch marks decorating the walls; rusted, bloodied stretchers and chain-yanks and all other manner of terrors, hidden beneath a warm and opulent façade.

The smell at the cave entrance was putrid; apparently, no one had bothered to notice that the troll was dead. It was hard enough not to vomit while clambering back through the mucky dregs, but the fresh smell of torture made him wretch, once he was in the embassy proper. He waited, trying to control himself, before moving on. He kept seeing things out of the corner of his vision: a shadow or a color or an imagined movement, and he found himself a prisoner to sickening déjà vu. His skin crawled until it was almost numb with anticipation, and he could feel his heartbeat in his ears. He wondered if the sensation alone would kill him before he completed his errand. Lamps burned, barely a flicker, and the air was warm and smelled of lavender and tallow. The windowpanes would occasionally rattle with wind, but there was nary a creak beneath his feet, nor even the whisper of his cloak. His hand relaxed around the grip of his dagger, and that was his first mistake.

A searing coil wrapped around his throat, quiet and deadly as any snake: it burned his skin and seemed to reach inside him, incapacitating him. He screamed, but there was no sound, and he lost himself in the pain. He might have reached for a weapon or rolled away to defend himself, but he could barely move.

“Contrary to popular opinion, lightning can, in fact, strike the same place more than once.” Elenwen’s cordial voice only accentuated her venom. “But I would expect a thief — even a petty one — to know better.”

Tears burning in his eyes, Audric tried desperately to Shout, but found nothing.

“The Dragonborn, in my grasp. How tempting it is to make an example of you. To execute Man’s Hope, Lorkhan’s shining star, publicly, gruesomely…” she speculated delightedly.

Audric’s anger scorched him from the inside while Elenwen’s spell continued its torture. It surprised him; any fear he was feeling hurtled forward, convulsing, twisting itself into aggression. This went on, growing, swelling, hot discomfort pushing against him from within.

“Sadly, there is little time for such a formal thing.”

“Lady Ambassador,” quivered a nearby voice, “the report is that there’s been an ambush.”

The invisible snare tugged on Audric’s neck and he choked, crumpling to the ground. “You mean there were more of them?” She sounded genuinely surprised, which would have pleased Audric, under other circumstances.
From: (Anonymous)
“Well. Tullius’ men, actually.”

“Treacherous,” she observed plainly. “Our defenses will hold, nonetheless. I will have to confer with the front, however. In the meantime, please escort our guest to the dungeon. Make him comfortable, then gag him,” she ordered. “Make certain he can’t speak, or it’s your life.”

After that, Audric faded out, resenting himself, hating Elenwen, and wishing he hadn't hesitated with Ulfric the night before.



A guard leaned against the makeshift battlement, bored. She had been left to keep watch while a small contingent cleaned up the last of the Elven rabble. She stiffened and whirled around though at the sound of hooves. A figure was approaching rapidly. As he gained distance, his silhouette became ungainly, too big to be one man, riding lopsidedly.

Then, she recognized the Thalmor garb, and raised her weapon. They continued to beeline for the camp.

“Stand down!” one rider cried, frantic. He ripped his hood down and revealed a human face. She wavered, but kept her sword raised. Still, she failed to cut him down when he tore into the camp, almost tumbling off the horse.

“My name’s Name’s Etienne Rarnis!” he panted. “I’m with the splinter group, here with Master Audric Bellamy —” he tried to explain as he hauled his cargo — the other rider, limp — from the saddle.

She shook her head. “He hasn’t returned yet. It’s been days, I’m sorry to say. But why…” she gestured at the Thalmor robes.

Etienne managed to prop himself under his burden like a crutch. “This is him.” Gently, he removed Audric’s hood to expose his face, caked in dried blood. “It barely seems it,” he said, holding back tears, “but it is, I swear. Please, he needs help...he’s barely breathing.”

“Alright,” she offered her arms. “Don’t go into hysterics, we’ll take care of him.”

“You don’t understand!” Etienne cried. “He...he was…”

Her face softened as she carried the Breton in her arms. The Dragonborn in her arms. What a strange day. “Like I said, we’ll take him to our healer. And if she can’t mend him, there are any number of talented hands in this country.”

“I don’t think we have the time for that,” he protested.

Ulfric was in the midst of a circular argument with Tullius when they were both interrupted by Etienne. He barely announced himself before lunging into a piecemeal explanation. “He’s...he isn’t well...what an understatement…”

“Start over, son,” Tullius said. “Breathe a moment.”

Ulfric’s brow furrowed as he listened, and his mouth went dry. His worst fears confirmed, he didn’t stick around to hear the rest of Etienne's story. He found his way to the healer’s tent, but tarried outside, nausea budding in his gut as he envisioned all the conditions he might find Audric in. Steeling himself, he entered, and somehow it was worse than he’d anticipated.

Audric was laid out on a cot, stripped, all his wounds uncovered, burns and scars in crosshatch. His face was wrong: his eyes were closed, as if in tranquil sleep, and no pain pulled at his mouth. His red hair fanned around his face and shoulders, revealing angry welts and monstrous bruises along his neck, his chest, and abdomen. An especially aggravated wound framed his jaw, where some despicable contraption had kept it shut.

Rage and anguish rose in Ulfric with bile, and he took to his knees at Audric’s side. He dared not touch him, but his fingers ghosted near the gouges in Audric’s wrists. He wished only to sew this boy up, to breathe life into him again, to erase the travesty and make all the pain go away.

When he was kindly asked to leave, he acquiesced without ado, but before leaving, he removed his necklace. This prized possession, this family heirloom, this tainted treasure that he had missed for so many months...it was worth returning it to the thief who took it in the first place, if it meant the charm placed upon it might help at all.

Ulfric almost regretted it later, when in the night, Audric came to with blood-curdling screams. Weeping, he considered that death might have been more merciful.









It has been five months since I updated this and I sincerely apologize. I hope this installation makes up for that, and I hope I can continue to make up for it by updating more regularly.

From: (Anonymous)
Oooh, it's back! Thanks for the hard work, A!A! I haven't checked SKM for a while so I was pleased to see some new Audric action. I must say, this is one of my favorite fics. I had taken proper spelling, grammar, and capitalization for granted before, but given the fics that I've been reading lately...well, let's just say they don't hold a candle to your writing.

Eagerly looking forward to the next installment!

a!a here

Date: 2015-04-24 08:40 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
One of the most aggravating things is thinking I've sufficiently edited — after rereading to the point of nausea, sometimes — only to find that spelling error or this punctuation flaw after I've posted, haha. I'm glad that despite these things, I get it right most of the time,

Thank you so much for taking the time to comment; feedback is always so encouraging. I've been working on this fic for so long now, sometimes I wonder if people are still reading.
From: (Anonymous)
So I just read this whole fic in one night (sleep? psht) and I am impressed.
I love all the characters and I'm itching for the next part. I hope you update soon.
This is really amazing.

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