Meme Announcements!

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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

Comments

Re: Fire and Potions - Epilogue 2/5

[(Anonymous)]

“I am very tired, though,” he admitted as another yawn betrayed him. “However, you’ve been through as much as I have. If you’re going to straighten out this mess with the princes and the magistrates tomorrow, then nothing in Oblivion will stop me from going with you.”

Ondolemar glanced toward Talamagne who merely shrugged again as he had done with Therion.

“I know better than to get involved when you’re both determined to take care of the other,” Talamagne said. “I’d say don’t push yourselves, but I’d have more luck talking to Auriel’s statue, I’m sure.”

“Not to interrupt this domestic moment, but it’s time I made for bed,” Aran said, clasping hands with them each in turn. “I’ll see the three of you tomorrow, I’m sure. The rest of the Laloria Malatar will be ready to help in a pinch as well.”

Aran paused and turned around one last time, the large grin on his face causing his sightless left eye to scrunch up.

“I’ve missed this,” he said. “Damn, it’s good having the two of you back. Be safe.”

Waving over his shoulder, he walked off down the street.

Therion looked at Ondolemar and Talamagne, unable to contain his smile.

“It’s good to be home.”

After they had finished embracing one another, they parted ways, with Ondolemar and Talamagne heading toward their home in the north part of town. Therion made his way across the rooftops, at a slower pace now that he was alone, taking in every detail as he went, admiring the tall, crystal spires he had never imagined he would see again. Radac was dead, freeing him from the curse of exile. Everything felt surreal, as if at any moment he might wake and find he was dreaming.

The strangest sight of all was the grand estate at the west end of town. Carefully climbing across the leyes tree at the back, he made his way along the smooth, crystal bark until he was over the roof. Dropping down, he quietly walked around to the sole balcony emitting light.

Silently, he lowered himself onto the landing, picked the lock on the door, and let himself inside.

His room was – somewhat disturbingly – the same as he had left it. In many ways, it felt like the only thing untouched by the passage of time in the years he had been away.

Smiling, he ran his hand across the familiar, soft spines of his books. Removing one of his favorites, he walked out to the terrace and opened it to a random page. The warm, fragrant night air hummed, filled with countless sounds he had forgotten. The usual drone of insects, the rustling of the trees, the creaking tree branches, all of them filled him with a sense of calm and peace he had long forgotten.

Setting the book down, he looked up at the sky, expecting to see the aurora but finding only stars and the twin moons. For a moment he could smell pine and warm hearths, and he could almost see chimney smoke creeping across his view of breath taking snow capped mountains, and endless, lush, green forests.

A soft plink of glass from the next room made his ears perk up.

Softly opening the door, he crept inside his laboratory and over to the desk.

“Still up?” he whispered, although his words seemed to pass through Farengar, who was caught up with something on the table.

Therion waited patiently, lightly tapping Farengar’s desk with his fingers.

Eventually, the engrossed mage looked up at him, his eyes instantly filled with surprise, barely avoiding spilling his potions over the book he was enthralled in. A wide array of alchemical ingredients, most of which were indigenous to Alinor, were spread out across the top of the desk. Many of them possessed luminescence, and their natural glow of magic pulsed softly.

“When did you come in?” Farengar asked, jotting down some notes and setting aside his work, adding, “I think I’m close to a stopping point for lunch.”

“I just got here,” Therion said with a smile, admiring the spark of excitement shining in Farengar’s eyes. “And, it’s technically morning.”

“Ah,” Farengar said, rubbing his eyes and wiping the sweat from his brow, “That might explain why I’m so tired.” Despite the frost runes on either side of his chair, he looked miserably overheated, and his pale face was flushed bright red beneath his blue hood.