Meme Announcements!
Oct. 29th, 2011 12:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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
"Bandit: A Love Story" -- 5b/? -- F!DB/M!Bandit
Date: 2013-01-31 05:13 am (UTC)“A horse would halve the amount of time it takes to get to Whiterun,” he points out as they near the stables.
“No, I don’t think so.” She pales, and her eyes dart over the creatures in the stables. He’s too angry to laugh as he realizes she’s afraid of horses. Of all the ridiculous things... but he doesn’t press the matter. Just because he’s done something stupid and fallen for the girl doesn’t mean that he’s got any right to be mean to her.
As tempting as that might be.
He lets the conversation drop, and Kathryn seems to sense something, because she’s eyeing him quizzically.
He smirks at her, and then they’re on their way. They follow the river south for a few hours, walking along the road in relative silence. It’s not awkward, precisely, but he wouldn’t say it’s an entirely comfortable silence. He’s too busy thinking, berating himself for being so stupid, and she seems to be off in her own world.
That’s when the Troll attacks them.
It goes straight for Kathryn, and she’s throwing fire at it. He didn’t even know she was a magic wielder. Roliand files that mentally in the category of “things we need to discuss” before he steps in and decapitates the distracted troll. Kathryn steps back, and wipes some stray blood off her cheek.
“You’re a mage?” He’s bewildered, and it’s clear in his voice. He doesn’t understand why she hasn’t said anything about it, why she’s unable to make this trip alone. And yet, he’s still grateful that she’s asked him to escort her, because for all his hurt and confusion, he’s glad to spend time with her.
“Uh,” she hesitates, and looks away, as if she can’t quite face him. “Yeah, I know some basic spells.”
“Oh.” He starts walking, and this time she’s the one trailing behind him. He wonders if he should explain that he’s not angry, or if he should let her think about it before he says anything.
The silence has become painfully awkward when they see the abandoned shack with the bear inside. Roliand looks back at Kathryn, and sees her readying a crossbow. A crossbow. The woman is as deadly as she is stupid, clearly, because a single crossbow bolt is certainly not going to fell a bear.
“Kat,” he whispers the warning, and she glances his way sharply. When her eyes are on him, he shakes his head and places his finger to his lips. Discretion is the better part of valor, and while he’s sure he can handle the bear, he’s not big on starting fights he doesn’t have to.
Which is funny, if you consider his previous line of work.
They’re safely out of range of the bear in the shack when they encounter another bear. Roliand rolls his eyes, and draws his sword, taking a few long steps. Before the bear is even aware of his presence, his sword is digging into the soft spot at the back of its neck, and stabbing through its head easily. The bear is dead almost immediately, and as painlessly as he can manage.
Kathryn stares at him, her green eyes wide with surprise. He’s not sure whether he should be insulted, because he’s fairly certain she’s surprised he’s such an efficient killer. A man in his line of work doesn’t stay alive for long if he’s not efficient though, and Roliand is better than most at killing. He’s not sure if he can explain that without sounding like a monster.
“That was,” she pauses, seems to be thinking. “Impressive.”
Then she’s digging in her bag with her left hand, and coming up with a small dagger. She pries at the bear’s claws, and he watches as she loses her grip on the dagger, her left hand as clumsy today as it was yesterday. But this dagger is a lot more likely to hurt her than that spoon was, so he steps in.
“I need those for alchemy,” she says, and once again he is surprised. Apparently there’s a lot about her that he doesn’t know, and could not have guessed.
“Alright,” he removes them and gives them to her. She’s a bit clumsy putting them into her bag, but he doesn’t interfere. It’s not his place.