Meme Announcements!
Oct. 29th, 2011 12:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
skyrimkinkmemeANNOUNCEMENTS: 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
M!DB/Ulfric: "Unforgettable" 2/?
Date: 2015-06-29 04:14 am (UTC)“…but if he’s back and plans to stay, don’t you think that’s reason to worry? He’s one of the king’s top officers!”
“Perhaps he simply means to find work, like he said he does.” Before Captain Lonely-Gale could continue, he noticed Ulfric approaching, and smiled politely. “My king. How was your trip?”
“It went as well as expected. I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation…” Viola Giordano, who was watching him with wide eyes, practically jumped forward in her excitement to speak.
“We were just discussing the return of Tomas, King Ulfric! He’s been gone for months, and now he just pops into the city, asking for work and chatting up the Dunmer!” she announced eagerly. “Is everything alright? Did you call him to the city to prepare for something?” Ulfric winced, feeling unusually vulnerable under the Imperial’s searching eyes. Somehow, he felt like she had known about the letters he had sent Tomas, all of which had gone ignored.
“I didn’t call him here,” he replied simply. “Do you have any idea where he is?”
“I saw him in the inn earlier, but that was a few hours ago. I’d ask there, all the same,” Captain Lonely-Gale offered. With a respectful nod, Ulfric departed, hurrying towards Candlehearth Hall despite his best efforts to keep his speed in check.
“He’s not here,” Elda Early-Dawn said apologetically. “He was here for a while, catching up with everybody. He’s just as much a gentleman as he always was.” She smiled brightly, obviously charmed by the Bosmer, and Ulfric shifted nervously.
“Do you know where he’s gone?” he asked. Elda shook her head.
“Not sure. He’s got a room here, if you want to come back later. If you’re in a hurry, he did mention going to say hello to Helgird. You could check the Hall of the Dead.” Ulfric nodded, relieved, then left the inn as well. He felt a tad ridiculous, dashing from place to place like a damned detective. But he needed to see Tomas with his own eyes. He needed to remember that he was real.
The Hall of the Dead was characteristically quiet when he entered. In the distance, he could hear Helgird laughing over a softer, deeper male voice.
So, it’s true.
Trying to keep his footsteps as quiet as possible, he approached the end of the hallway, then peered cautiously around the corner.
And there he was.
His hair was still as scruffy as ever, though it looked cleaner than it had the last time he had seen him. Everything else was the same—the dark, piercing eyes, the charming smile, the way he leaned forward when listening to a conversation. His typical armor had been replaced with some simple city clothes, but there was no doubt. After nearly a year, Tomas was standing in front of him, unaware that he was being watched.
For once, the King of Skyrim was at a loss for words. He retreated behind the wall, alarmed at the feeling of sweat on his forehead. He felt like a much younger man, flustered over an attractive friend.
What would he even say if he walked up to them? A million different options rushed through his head, each more frightening than the last. It’s good to see you. I’ve been looking for you. How dare you leave for so long? I missed you so much. It was no good. There was nothing he could say without preparing himself.
And with that, he left Tomas and Helgird to their conversation, and returned into the snow.
M!DB/Ulfric: "Unforgettable" 3/?
Date: 2015-06-29 04:45 am (UTC)“I would ask if you had seen Tomas yet, but you have the answer on your face,” he said sympathetically. Ulfric smiled weakly, taking a seat beside him and picking up the nearest bottle of wine.
“That obvious, is it?” he grumbled wryly, taking a long swig. “Come, Jorleif, sit with me.” The steward sat obediently and returned to his meal.
“Did you have a chance to speak with him? He hasn’t come by the palace yet, but one of the guards told me he was here.”
“I haven’t spoken with him. There wasn’t a good opportunity,” Ulfric replied, keeping his eyes trained downwards. Jorleif knew him well enough that if they made eye contact, he would be able to see everything he wouldn’t say out loud. All the same, his old friend eyed him, barely concealing his concern.
“You look troubled, my king. I was under the impression that you and Tomas were on good terms. You were even planning on making him a Thane, as I recall,” he said. The king shrugged halfheartedly, taking another long drink before daring to look at Jorleif.
“I don’t know what terms Tomas and I are on,” he admitted, quiet enough that the guards wouldn’t overhear. “He left after the battle at Solitude, and that’s the last I heard. No visits, no letters, nothing. Just hearsay and rumors.” Jorleif looked genuinely surprised, taking a contemplative bite of his food before continuing.
“No letters, either? You two were very close during the war,” he remarked. “I wonder what he was thinking.” When Ulfric didn’t reply, he continued on. “What will you do now? I suppose you could tell the guards to order him to come here, but we both know Tomas wouldn’t take kindly to that.”
“He’s never been one to be bossed around,” Ulfric agreed almost affectionately. “I don’t know what I’ll do yet, Jorleif. It’s been quite some time…I don’t know how he’s changed, and he doesn’t know how I’ve changed. It’s a delicate process.”
“Agreed,” Jorleif said quietly. “If you need any advice, it’s yours. Currently, my advice is for you to get some rest. The journey must have been long.” Ulfric smirked slightly, rising to his feet all the same.
“Thank you, mother, I’ll take my leave,” he teased. “Goodnight, Jorleif.”
Despite his racing thoughts, the king did manage to sleep through the night. His return to the throne the next morning, however, sent his mind into a frenzy once again. The moment he stepped into the main hall, he saw the problematic visitor in question seated at the table, waiting for him.
“…Tomas,” Ulfric choked out, approaching him with shaky legs. The Bosmer rose quickly, smiling nervously at the sight of his old commander.
“King Ulfric Stormcloak,” he replied. “The name has quite the ring to it. I hear it everywhere I go, and usually in a positive light.” To the Nord’s surprise, Tomas wrapped his arms around him, giving him a firm hug. “Gods, it’s so good to see you.” Ulfric returned the embrace clumsily, then backed away.
“And it’s good to see you,” he said quickly. “What brings you here? Business?”
“Not this time,” the elf assured him. “Just an old friend realizing that it’s been far too long. Where’s Galmar?”
“Still asleep, the old man,” Ulfric said, allowing himself to be playful. “He’s gotten a bit lazy since we took Solitude.” Tomas laughed, shaking his hair out of his face, and Ulfric was irritated to feel his heart catch at the sight.
“Ah, damn him. I’ve missed the old bear,” he said. “I’ll come back later, if it’s more convenient. Some time when I can get the opportunity to catch up with both of you—”
“What about tonight?” The words had left Ulfric’s mouth before he even knew they existed, and Tomas blinked in surprise. “I…you can join us for dinner. We’ll have a long talk, with good wine and food.” After a moment of stunned silence, Tomas beamed, and nodded enthusiastically.
“Absolutely. That sounds wonderful,” he agreed. “I’ll…I’ll come back then. I’ll wear something nice, too.” He paused, looking up bashfully at the Nord. “Thank you, Ulfric. I’ve missed you quite a bit.”
M!DB/Ulfric: "Unforgettable" 4/?
Date: 2015-06-29 05:15 am (UTC)“You wouldn’t believe the kind of things people tell you if you ask them,” Tomas said, taking a swig of ale. “I do one favor for this man in Falkreath, and suddenly he’s telling me that he’s related to a vampire that’s risen from the grave, and that I have to go kill him now! Here I was thinking that Nords aren’t quick to trust.” Galmar grinned, raising a glass to his comrade’s comment.
“Ah, vampire hunting is satisfying,” he said nostalgically. “I’ve taken down a fair share of those demons in my day. Back before the war, I saved a Breton girl just seconds before she got her blood sucked out, and she thanked me by taking me to a clearing and showing me how well she could—”
“Gods, not this story!” Ulfric interrupted, roaring with laughter. “Damn it, old man, I want to eat in peace without thinking about you on your back!” Galmar chortled, taking another long drink.
“At least you believe me. Jorleif here doesn’t even think it happened!”
“The timing is uncanny,” Jorleif remarked, smirking over the rim of his goblet. Tomas laughed openly, topping off his drink with a nearby bottle.
“I only believe it because he said it happened before the war,” he chimed in. “Ulfric tells me you’ve gotten lazy since we took Solitude.” Galmar sputtered with feigned shock.
“Lazy, he says! And when’s the last time you’ve picked up a sword, my king? You’ve submitted to the old bard’s saying! ‘The pen is mightier than the sword,’ they say, and Ulfric believes it!” he cackled.
“It’s not as if I’m writing poems with my time, you bastard!” Ulfric protested. “Kingly duties and all. Surely our dear guest can understand kingly duties.”
“I wouldn’t, I’m not the esteemed High King of Skyrim!” Tomas laughed, raising his full drink. “To the health of our king!”
“May he live forever!” Galmar chimed in. As the whole table took a long drink, Ulfric looked back to find that the elf’s gaze hadn’t wavered. As their eyes met, Tomas slowly licked the extra wine off the rim of the cup, and winked.
Dinner ended with Jorleif helping a very inebriated Galmar up the stairs to his quarters, leaving the table a mess for the night. Ulfric and Tomas remained in the throne room, silent for a moment before the elf spoke up.
“That was a delight,” he said, grinning. “Thank you so much for having me, King Ulfric.”
“You of all people know that you don’t need to use titles with me,” Ulfric grumbled. In all honesty, hearing Tomas call him his king was slightly arousing, but it could just be the ale thinking for him. “Will you be staying in Whiterun for a while, then?”
“Mm. Perhaps. I’ll be in the area, at least. Plenty of work to be done in Eastmarch,” Tomas replied thoughtfully. “But for now, it’s back to the inn for me. All this excitement wore me out.” Ulfric frowned, raising his eyebrows.
“The inn? You know you’re welcome to sleep in the palace,” he began. Tomas leveled him with a cool stare.
“With you, you mean?” he asked. Ulfric remained silent, stunned at the Bosmer’s forwardness, and he scoffed. “Goodnight, Ulfric.” As he breezed out the door, Ulfric remained rooted in place, shocked.
When he retired to bed for the night, he found his shock turning into frustration. Tomas had some nerve, throwing accusations around like that. Regardless of the truth, he was out of line, and he would be right to inform him of that fact.
He knew he wouldn’t, though. King or not, he knew where he stood with Tomas. And even with royal authority, his feelings would make an interaction like that very volatile.
The best he could do was try and sleep off the emotions.
M!DB/Ulfric: "Unforgettable" 5/?
Date: 2015-06-29 06:57 pm (UTC)“Just in time,” he said, grinning sheepishly. “I told Jorleif to tell you, but now you’re here, so…I won’t be here today.” Ulfric frowned, taking a seat at the throne.
“And where will you be?”
“Out in the fields. Tomas invited me to go hunting with him. Something about wanting to keep my skills sharp,” Galmar replied. Ulfric’s eyebrows tightened further, and he gripped the arms of the chair to suppress his anger.
“Very well. I’ll see you tonight,” he said shortly. Galmar eyed him nervously, more than familiar with the look of anger his king was trying to hide, but hurried from the palace all the same.
How dare he, Ulfric fumed silently, rising from the throne again and pacing throughout the rooms. Between his inviting Galmar alone and his comment the night before, the message was clear—Tomas was giving him the cold shoulder. The High King of Skyrim, the last person who should have to tolerate disrespect!
And yet, part of him knew that he wouldn’t punish Tomas for it. He was in his right to, and if it was anybody else, he likely would. But the Dragonborn was a different case, that much had been clear from the beginning. And even if he wasn’t the Dragonborn…Ulfric was certain that he would be just as quietly intimidating, and that he would command the same amount of respect from his fellow Stormcloaks.
He slumped back into the throne, shaking his head firmly. Damn him…
In the snowy fields outside of Whiterun, Galmar slowed his horse to a slow walk, raising his bow at the sight of a moose in the distance. Beside him, Tomas was watching curiously, waiting to see what he managed to hit from so far away. The Nord steadied his arm, took a deep breath…and fired.
“Nice shot,” the elf said admiringly, watching the moose collapse on the edge of the hill. As they rode closer to their catch, Galmar watched the elf wordlessly, unsure what to make of his breezy attitude. It certainly was a sharp contrast from his king’s stony face earlier that morning.
“And you said that I’m losing my touch,” he replied lightly, trying to keep a smile on his face. All the same, Tomas looked over his shoulder, plucking the arrow from the corpse at their feet.
“You sound upset,” he pointed out. “Seeing dead animals makes you nervous now? I know they’re not in Imperial armor, but…” He smiled crookedly, and Galmar rolled his eyes.
“Oh, be quiet. If you must know, Ulfric seemed angry that this invitation wasn’t extended to him,” he replied. “I don’t think it’s best for you to be ignoring your king the way you are. If you plan on spending time with me, the least you can do is ask him along as well.”
“He’s not a child,” Tomas retorted. “His being king doesn’t give him leave to attend every social gathering in Skyrim.” He cut a large slice of meat out of the moose and wrapped it in paper, sitting to work on the animal as he continued. “Besides, he can complain about a lack of invitation when he explains to me why he didn’t invite me to his wedding with Elisif.” Galmar scoffed, taking a knee beside him and helping him remove the antlers.
“You’re bitter about that, boy? That wedding was a bore. Just a bunch of political vows and angry ex-Imperials with too much to say. Ulfric’s lucky I didn’t bring a weapon,” he snorted. “You should count yourself lucky. I had to ride all the way across Skyrim for a wedding that I didn’t want to attend and that wasn’t even consummated. I’m having much more fun tearing this moose apart, to be honest.” Tomas looked up, raising an eyebrow.
“The marriage was never consummated?”
“He told me it wasn’t,” Galmar assured him, shaking his head. “He’s never lied to me, and I’ve known him for years.” Tomas kept his eyes down, trying to mask his relief. At long last, a question he had silently obsessed over was answered.
“…I see.”
M!DB/Ulfric: "Unforgettable" 6/?
Date: 2015-06-29 07:26 pm (UTC)“That was great, boy,” Galmar said as they placed the packages on the counter. “No meat tastes better than meat you work for, that’s what my father always said.” Tomas nodded his agreement, the cold air of Eastmarch invigorating him and leaving him lively.
“How about we test that theory out for ourselves? Let’s see if our esteemed king wants to join us for dinner again.”
Before they could reach Ulfric’s quarters, however, the king himself was exiting, holding a hefty bag. Tomas frowned deeply, and Galmar crossed his arms.
“Off on an adventure, are you?” he asked sarcastically. Ulfric glanced between the two, his eyes lingering longer on the Bosmer as he spoke.
“I received word from Solitude earlier. You would know that if you had stayed at the palace, Galmar,” he replied. “I’m leaving tonight to meet with Elisif. I’ll be back in a few days.” The elf’s eyes darkened, and he bit his lip.
“You can’t stay for dinner?” he asked lowly. Ulfric shook his head apologetically, and moved forward, motioning for Galmar to follow him.
“I’m afraid not, Tomas,” he replied. “It’s a long trip, and I need to get going. Political business. Surely you can understand—” Before he could finish apologizing, Tomas turned on his heel and stormed from the room, making a beeline for the palace doors. Ulfric remained in place, glaring at the empty space his old friend had left behind. “Gods damn it.” He shook his head, looking over at Galmar. “He’s gotten bitter since we saw him last, don’t you think?” Galmar shrugged wordlessly, opting not to tell him about their conversation during the hunt.
“I’ll walk you to the carriage, Ulfric,” he said instead. “Just to make sure no rabble bothers you.”
For all of her dislike, Elisif was at least comfortable enough to sprawl across her bed while meeting with her husband, watching him curiously as he paced around the room.
“Did the envoy explain what the nature of the meeting would be?” he asked.
“Only that it would be friendly in nature. The Redguards have always valued strength. Perhaps they seek an alliance, now that Skyrim has proved itself against the Legion.” Ulfric took a seat on the bed, eying the woman next to him.
“Perhaps. I’ll gladly meet with them, provided that we have a fair amount of guards wherever we choose to meet. Let’s make it twenty.”
“That’s fair. We’ve given the envoy a room here, so I’ll let him know at breakfast.” Elisif paused, observing the Nord closer. “Is something troubling you? You’ve been wandering since you arrived.” Perhaps it was just his frustration, but he suddenly felt far more inclined to open up to her than he ever had.
“It’s that damn elf we talked about last time. Tomas,” he admitted. “He came back to Windhelm, and he’s been causing trouble. Strutting around the palace like he owns the place. It’s aggravating.” Elisif’s lips tightened, and Ulfric raised an eyebrow at her. “What?”
“Nothing,” she replied quickly. “I’m sorry he’s an issue, that’s all…” Her husband narrowed his eyes.
“Did something happen?” he asked. “Remember, I haven’t heard a word about him before he returned to Windhelm.” Elisif sighed, sitting up to move next to him.
“I’m surprised you don’t know, all the same. Most people in Solitude do.” She paused, wringing her hands as she continued. “Tomas is bisexual, as most of us found out. Inge Six-Fingers, one of the instructors at the Bard’s College, found him in bed with a young man named Ataf. She ran him out of the College before he could even get dressed, so it was quite the story.” When Ulfric remained silent, she gripped his hand. “All I’m worried about is my people getting the impression that they shouldn’t take this marriage seriously. If Tomas is getting comfortable with you at the palace, rumors could spread. You must know that.” Ulfric huffed, moving his hand from her palm to her cheek.
“If you’re so worried, we could sleep together right now,” he said bluntly. “Negate the doubts before they even arise.” Elisif smiled secretively, and moved out of his grasp.
“I’ll respectively decline, King Ulfric,” she said politely. “If I’m ever unsatisfied in my bed, I’ll be sure to inform you.”
M!DB/Ulfric: "Unforgettable" 7/?
Date: 2015-06-30 04:18 am (UTC)“King Ulfric,” he began. “Welcome home. How was your trip?”
“Let’s go for a walk, Tomas,” Ulfric replied, nodding politely at the stablemaster and his wife before motioning for his friend to follow.
They had nearly reached the farms outside of the city before Tomas spoke up.
“Did you…want to talk to me?” he asked cautiously. “If this is about Galmar coming to hunt with me, I didn’t mean—”
“It’s not about that,” Ulfric interrupted shortly, before biting his lip. “…I suppose that’s a part of it. You’ve changed since you came back to Windhelm. And you haven’t answered any of my questions.”
“Everyone’s changed,” the elf argued. “It’s been months after one of Skyrim’s most important wars.” Ulfric pressed on all the same.
“Where did you go? Why didn’t you come to visit at all?”
“I was busy. Plenty of people need the Dragonborn’s help, believe it or not.” Tomas softened slightly, looking up at his king. “I didn’t mean any offense, Ulfric. I figured you were busy. If you had told me to come…”
“Don’t give me that,” Ulfric snapped, his temper flaring. “You know damn well I asked you to come, Tomas. Unless you didn’t read any of the letters I sent.” Tomas looked down, his face hot with shame, and stopped on the icy path.
“…Fine. I read your letters and didn’t reply. I was angry, Ulfric.” He looked back up, eyes narrowing. “What about you? Every prominent member of society was at your wedding to Elisif, but you didn’t invite me. Was I supposed to take that lightly? I assumed that was you telling me to stay away.” Ulfric’s heart caught in his throat, and he took a small step closer to the smaller elf.
“I…it wasn’t like that at all. It didn’t feel right, inviting you.”
“Why not?”
Because I would have married you if Elisif hadn’t been what was best for Skyrim.
“Because Elisif has her concerns,” he said out loud. “She told me yesterday that you got in trouble in her city for sleeping with a male bard, and she thinks that people will…misinterpret our renewed friendship.” Tomas scoffed, crossing his arms.
“That’s the best excuse you have?” he said bitterly. “What does it matter, anyway? Royals can do whatever they want. It wouldn’t surprise me if Elisif took a bedwarmer, why would anyone care if you took me?” Ulfric’s fists clenched, and he glared down at him.
“Excuse me?” he growled. Tomas squared his shoulders, trying to make himself look as big as possible in the face of the intimidating Nord.
“Galmar told me yesterday that you and Elisif haven’t even slept together,” he said boldly. Ulfric’s face reddened, but he said nothing, and the elf pressed on. “If people were to know about that, it would only make sense that you both found other options—”
He was silenced by a fist to his jaw.
When he regained his senses, he was seated in the snow, the entire right side of his face stinging and his eyes welling. He willed himself not to cry, instead trying to steel himself against the pain. Ulfric Stormcloak, his king, the man he admired and would follow into Oblivion, had flattened him with a single punch. He was still yelling, but it seemed very distant.
“Perhaps Elisif was right, and you are trying to undermine the royal marriage!” the Nord was shouting. “It’s about damn time you remembered your place in my city, Tomas! You may have fought beside me, but I am your king! And you’ll keep that in mind next time you show your face in my palace!” With that, he turned and stormed away, leaving his former officer trembling in a snowbank.
M!DB/Ulfric: "Unforgettable" 8/?
Date: 2015-06-30 04:46 am (UTC)“You told Tomas that Elisif and I never shared a bed,” the king snarled. Galmar looked up from his work, raising a shaggy eyebrow.
“Hello to you, too.”
“How dare you give away such private information?!” Now the older man rose to his feet, his fists on the table.
“I’d watch my tone, Ulfric. If you think your damn title will stop me from knocking the sense back into you, you’re sorely mistaken,” he said lowly. Ulfric stormed forward and slammed his own palm on the table, eyes ablaze.
“You know full well that Tomas has a history with men, and you give him information that he could use against me! Do you want people thinking I’ve taken a bedwarmer? Do you not want my marriage to be taken seriously?!” he raged. Galmar shoved him firmly, knocking him back a few steps.
“You sound like an Imperial milk-drinker, sipping up the lines your lovely wife feeds you like they’re a damned stew,” he retorted. “As it happens, Ulfric, I’ve only just now learned that Tomas has a history with men, and I really don’t care. He can bed frost trolls, for all I care. But I’m not going to stand here and listen to you treat one of our most loyal officers like a traitor when all he’s ever done is support you and stand at your back!” He pushed the younger Nord again, harder this time. “You have some nerve, turning your back on him because your damned wife is worried about her precious image. Elisif can rot in Oblivion for all I care! Will you have me beheaded for that, mighty King Ulfric?” He huffed, taking in Ulfric’s stunned face. “You’re a smart man, but I fear this new power will take control of you. And you’re already letting it happen.” Ulfric took a seat abruptly, looking down at the bruises that were forming on his knuckles.
“You’re right,” he said, amazed. “Tomas is second only to you in his loyalty to me…and in his caring. And I hit him.” Galmar sat down as well, eying the bruises with disgust.
“You hit him,” he echoed, shaking his head. “By the Nine, Ulfric, you’re better than that. You didn’t rise all the way to King of Skyrim just to start beating the people you have feelings for.” Ulfric looked up, his brow furrowed.
“I’m married, Galmar. That hasn’t changed. I don’t have feelings for Tomas,” he said firmly. Galmar leveled him with a piercing look, and smiled wryly.
“Yes, you do.”
Ulundil was locking the stable doors when Ulfric and Galmar approached him. He greeted them with a bow and a smile, as always.
“King Ulfric, Galmar. How can I help you?”
“Have you seen Tomas?” Ulfric asked, masking his anxiety over the elf’s whereabouts. The path he had abandoned him on was empty, and the sun had long since set. To his dismay, Ulundil gestured at the empty space where the carriage usually was.
“He left town. Didn’t even say where, just told Alfarinn to drive until he told him to stop. He seemed like he was in a hurry.” The Altmer eyed the two apologetically. “Sorry I couldn’t be of more use.”
“Thank you anyway,” Galmar replied, already aware that Ulfric was too upset to speak. If the time before was any indication, they knew Tomas wasn’t coming back any time soon.
M!DB/Ulfric: "Unforgettable" 9/?
Date: 2015-06-30 07:01 pm (UTC)Ulfric paused, unsure what to write this time. This would be the tenth letter he had written in the months following Tomas’ second disappearance. They had either been tossed in a drawer, never to be read, or returned unopened a few days after they were sent. Something told him that nothing he wrote would reach his friend, but he couldn’t keep himself from writing again.
It doesn’t feel right to apologize on paper for our last interaction. I’d much rather apologize in person, where I can show you in person how sorry I am.
He sounded clingy, Ulfric noted with a sigh. He didn’t want to beg him to come back, not on a paper that he could show to anybody. It didn’t help that he still wasn’t certain where Tomas had gone, and even the couriers he sent out were becoming exasperated with the king’s fruitless hunt. He groaned aloud, dipping his quill into the nearby inkpot and continuing on all the same.
I hope you’re well, wherever you are, and that you’re taking care of yourself. I…
“He’s in Riften.”
Ulfric looked up abruptly from his letter to find Galmar standing in front of the throne.
“Riften?”
“One of our contacts there saw him in the inn there. He’s been picking up jobs for the citizens of the city, and he’s recently purchased a home there. From what they can tell, he’s planning on staying.” The old man paused, raising an eyebrow at the crumbled paper on the armrest of the throne. “Writing to him again, are you?”
“Not anymore, I don’t think,” the king replied, leaning back. “I suppose I could send some men to order him to come back. Arrest him, if need be.”
“On what charges?” Galmar scoffed. “Don’t let your power get to your head, Ulfric. You may be King, but you owe something to your friends first.” When the king remained silent, he softened slightly, moving up on the steps to place a hand on his old friend’s arm. “Don’t worry about Tomas. He’ll come back when he’s ready. You can’t expect him to stay away forever, that isn’t his way.” With that, he returned to the war room, leaving Ulfric to rip his paper in half and pick up another, fresher piece.
Jarl Laila,
I am sending you a letter intended for one of your citizens. Please ensure that this is delivered directly and promptly to the Bosmer Tomas.
Best,
King Ulfric of Skyrim.
Tomas was decorating his bedroom in Honeyside when the knock sounded on his door. Surprised, he opened it to find a guard there, firmly grasping a neatly folded piece of paper.
“Letter for you, sir,” he said shortly, extending his hand. “From the Jarl herself.” Tomas frowned, but nodded his thanks as he took the letter. What could the Jarl want?
When he opened the letter, however, he recognized the handwriting immediately. And it certainly wasn’t Laila’s.
M!DB/Ulfric: "Unforgettable" 10/?
Date: 2015-07-04 04:14 am (UTC)Tomas was walking slowly, unable to hide the fear on his face as he approached the throne. He had a small box in his hands, which he placed at the king’s feet.
“…King Ulfric,” he said softly, his eyes down. Ulfric reached down for the box, and opened it to find himself looking at a trio of silver rings. In truth, he had no idea why the elf had decided to bring him a gift, but he nodded graciously all the same.
“Thank you, Tomas. They’re very nice,” he said, forcing himself to remain stone-faced. “Welcome back. I trust you’ve figured out whatever it was you needed to figure out in Riften?”
“Yes, your Majesty,” Tomas replied, daring to look up. “I was just doing work, making more money than I could have done here. I didn’t mean to offend.” Ulfric closed his eyes, biting the inside of his cheek to keep himself calm. Tomas had never acted subservient before, and in all honesty, it made him deeply uncomfortable. Had there been something in his letter that had changed the way they viewed each other? Perhaps—more likely, Ulfric realized with a grimace—Tomas knew that this behavior would bother him, and was doing it out of spite.
In any case, he was back. And Ulfric would be damned if he wasted this chance again.
“It’s good to see you,” he said, rising from the throne and coming closer to him. “Can I get you anything? Food, wine?” Despite his best efforts, Tomas smiled lightly.
“If you want to drink with me, your Majesty, I’d be honored to.”
The two settled in the war room, their conversation finally becoming livelier as they drank. Ulfric was relieved to see that Tomas was slowly slipping back into his normal demeanor, even if he wouldn’t stop calling him ‘King Ulfric.’ The elf leaned back on the table, relaxing as he and his king caught up on all their escapades since his disappearance.
“Galmar was wondering where you were, too,” Ulfric remarked, only half-teasing. “He was very sad when his new hunting partner vanished off of the face of Nirn.” Tomas grinned affectionately, rolling his dark eyes.
“I never meant to break his heart,” he sighed melodramatically. When he returned his gaze to the Nord, he looked much more serious. “I was always going to come back. I bought a house in Riften, yes, but I like having a home to go to in different cities, and Honeyside was cheap enough.”
“You ought to buy a property here, then,” Ulfric contended, smiling wryly. “You say you’ve earned quite a bit of money while you were away, and there’s a home available right now. Why don’t you buy it?”
“Because that’s where the Butcher was sacrificing his victims,” Tomas retorted, his face paling slightly. Ulfric merely shrugged.
“That’s dealt with, and it’s even been cleaned up. I can have Jora bless it for you, if you’re worried about it being haunted.”
“Yes, but—” Ulfric suddenly slammed his hand on the table next to Tomas, moving so that their bodies were inches apart. The elf flinched, but kept his eyes up and tried not to get distracted by the scent of wine on the king’s breath.
“You’re still my officer, Tomas,” Ulfric growled, “and people have been asking about whether I plan to make you a Thane. If you want those titles and benefits, you need to act as such. Talk to Jorleif when you have the funds.” Tomas winced, but nodded wordlessly, before squirming away from the Nord and hurrying for the door. In the emptiness that followed, all Ulfric could do was slam his fist against the table, shouting out his frustration.
“Damn it!” His temper had gotten the best of him, as it tended to do in vital moments, and he had wasted his chance.
That damn elf would be the death of him, he feared.
M!DB/Ulfric: "Unforgettable" 11/?
Date: 2015-07-04 04:43 am (UTC)At the other side of the fireplace, Tomas kept his eyes on his drink, doing his best to listen to the bard’s lute instead of the drunk’s racism. He had no idea how a man as likeable as Galmar could come from the same mother as that bastard.
“You okay? You look angry.” Somehow, Stenvar had come over from his table without him noticing, and had taken a seat beside him. The two had fought side by side before, and Tomas was surprised to find that he was still as comfortable as ever with the burly sellsword.
“I won’t be after a few more drinks,” he said with a chuckle, draining his ale and immediately opening another. “Gods, why did I come here…I need peace and quiet, not Rolff telling me why I should go back to Valenwood.” He shook his head bitterly, earning a sympathetic tongue click from Stenvar as he continued. “Windhelm is full of bastards like him. I stood right next to Ulfric when we took Solitude, and all they see are my pointy ears.”
“I usually see your sword,” Stenvar teased, grinning. “You keep me too busy to have me worrying about whether or not you’re an elf.” Tomas took a long swig, hiccupping slightly as he finished.
“I don’t even know if that’s a compliment or not,” he wheezed, swaying slightly in his chair, “but I don’t care. You’re a good friend, Stenvar. A real Nord, too.” He turned to glare at Rolff, who was currently stumbling about and toasting anyone who walked by. “Not like him. You care more about honor and loyalty than anything else. That’s what a Nord should be!” He finished his next drink, and Stenvar tilted his head, slightly concerned. From what he knew of Tomas, something was wrong besides Rolff’s comments, and he couldn’t help but wonder about it.
Before he could say anything, the Nord in question had made his way to their chairs, and he raised his tankard.
“Ah, and here’s Tomas! A drink to you, elf! You may be a tree-spawn, but at least you fight like a Nord!” he said, taking a long swig. Tomas glared at him, taking a drink himself before speaking.
“Tree-spawn? I’m not a damn Spriggan,” he grumbled, his eyes piercing. Rolff took no notice, raising his mug even higher.
“A toast to Tomas, and to my brave brother Galmar, for being at King Ulfric’s side! A toast to Ulfric Stormcloak! Reclaiming Skyrim from those filthy elves, and now he even gets to bed Queen Elisif!” He laughed loudly, and Tomas drank one more time before slamming his bottle down. Stenvar had seen the Bosmer in combat before, but he had never seen him as heated as he was when he rose shakily to his feet.
“Shut your damn mouth, Rolff,” he snarled, only for the Nord to howl with laughter.
“Why? Jealous of our dear King?” he asked. “I am too, elf, no shame in admitting it! We’d all like to be where he is, bending Elisif over a table and ramming her like—”
He was silenced by Tomas’ fist landing squarely in the center of his face.
Galmar was making his rounds, talking to the guards about any trouble they had faced, when the commotion reached his ears. Curious as ever, he approached Candlehearth Hall, only for his heart to sink. Tomas was lying at the bottom of the stairs outside, struggling even to sit up, and Rolff was approaching him menacingly, a dagger glinting in his fist and blood streaming from his nose.
“I’m going to cut your cock off first,” he growled, “then your pointy ears. You’re dead, elf!”
“Rolff!” Galmar roared, sprinting to Tomas’ aid. “What in Talos’ name are you doing to him?”
“Me? The little bastard broke my nose!” Rolff protested, wiping the blood from his lips. “Give me one reason not to destroy him.”
“Our king. That’s reason enough.” Galmar hoisted Tomas to his feet. “I’ll make sure he’s dealt with. Go get that taken care of.” As he dragged the half-conscious elf away, he groaned, rubbing his temple with his free hand.
“You’re a gods-damned disaster, Tomas,” he complained.
M!DB/Ulfric: "Unforgettable" 12/?
Date: 2015-07-04 05:12 am (UTC)Ulfric was awakened by a sudden, jolting movement on his bed. He sat up abruptly to find Tomas sprawled at the foot of his bed, reeking of alcohol. With a sigh, he turned the drunken elf onto his back, only for him to sit up and practically crawl on top of him.
“Tomas…don’t do that…” Ulfric forced the elf onto the bed beside him. “How did you get here?”
“G-Galmar saved me,” Tomas stuttered, tears filling his eyes. “Doesn’t matter. Ulfric…gotta tell you something.” Ulfric sighed, rubbing the elf’s shoulder as he sniffled.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, as gently as he could considering the stench of ale. He would have to have his sheets washed, if Tomas was planning on sleeping here. But he forgot about all of that when his drunken officer spoke up again.
“I’m so, so sorry I’ve acted the way I have,” he slurred. “I-I just…don’t know how to deal with this…you’re my king and I’m in love with you…” He lurched forward, burying his face in Ulfric’s chest and feeling the way the Nord’s heart pounded at this news. “I-I’m sorry…you should banish me…make me go back to Valenwood…” Ulfric moved so that he could look at the Bosmer’s tear-streaked face, and couldn’t help but smile affectionately.
“Why would I do that, you little fool?” he asked. “I love you, too.” Tomas kissed him, albeit sloppily, and Ulfric moved him onto his back, deepening the kiss and sliding a large hand under his shirt. Though the smell was still less than ideal, the taste of ale on his lover’s mouth was intoxicating, and Ulfric soon became greedier, grabbing at as much skin as he could reach.
“Put your cock inside me,” Tomas whimpered when his mouth trailed to his neck. Ulfric groaned, the demand enough to get his cock aching, and continued kissing down his body. “Ulfric, please…”
“Be patient,” the Nord commanded, sitting up to undress himself and watching the elf struggle to do the same. He reached down to help him, loosening his pants to reveal an admittedly impressive cock. Part of him wanted to take the whole thing in his mouth…but he could do that another time. He had heard his officer’s order, and he was more than ready to oblige.
Tomas’ back arched and his muscles tightened when Ulfric pushed himself inside him.
“Gods, you’re so big,” he moaned, wiggling his hips to feel the cock inside him even more. “Ulfric…” The sound of his needy, desperate voice was enough, and soon his king was thrusting wildly inside him, grunting and moaning eagerly as he finally took the elf he had wanted for so long. Months, even years of tension finally came out in the way he moved, jerking hard and slapping against the elf’s smooth, pale skin. Tomas’ voice quickly grew louder and higher, and he threw his head back, mouth agape in pleasure.
“Ulfric, Ulfric, Ulfric!” he chanted in time with the thrusts, reaching to pump his own cock. His lover quickly took that duty from him, leaving him to grip the sheets and shout for him as he was stretched wide by the hefty length inside him. Looking up to see his king panting and sweating pushed him even closer to sweet release, and he couldn’t help but get even louder. “Ulfric, I love you!”
And that was enough. Ulfric came suddenly and violently, shouting for Tomas as he rode out his orgasm. Somewhere in the middle, he felt his lover spill on both of their stomachs, his own screams sounding rather far away in the midst of his pleasure.
As they settled back into the bed, nude and satisfied, Ulfric couldn’t help but rest his arm around Tomas’ shoulders. The elf’s drunkenness had caught up to him, and he was already dozing off, but the king couldn’t help but feel that they had cut through their tension all the same.