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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

"Bandit: A Love Story" -- 7b/? -- F!DB/M!Bandit

Date: 2013-01-31 10:38 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Kathryn quirked a brow, and the big Nord shrugged casually and looked away. It was a bit too casual, and left her wondering what, exactly, he was telling her. Or trying not to tell her, as the case seemed to be. She wanted to poke him and pry for information, but she’d only known him three days at this point, for all that he’d been in her thoughts for months.

“Oh?” She quirked a brow at him, but he was steadfastly refusing to look at her face. His head was turned just far enough that she wasn’t in his direct line of sight. Something was going on here, she just couldn’t decide what.

“I ah,” he stumbled, and she was even more intrigued. Could this mean? “I took another job.”

Her heart sank. Of course he had. He was a mercenary, and gold was important to him. She’d offered him enough septims to get him here with her, but after that, he had to keep going, and she couldn’t afford to keep him on her payroll endlessly. After she’d nearly gotten them both killed, she wasn’t sure she wanted to try. She wasn’t sure if he wanted to try either, considering how good a job she’d done of leading him into a trap.

Sometimes, it was best to know when to let go, and she had a feeling this was one of those times.

The longer they were together, the harder it would be to admit that it was a mistake, and the harder it would be for her to let him go. The thing about mercenaries is that they were hard to pin down. She knew. She’d spent so many months wandering that she knew dozens of landmarks, but she still didn’t have a permanent home, or permanent friends.

Part of her had wished this time would be different. That he could become a fixture in her life, her first friend in this strange land. But it was not to be.

It seemed like she never did a very good job of making or keeping friends. There had been others that might have become friends, if she’d spent time and effort on the endeavor.

When she’d left Roliand all those months ago, she’d been out in the far west of Skyrim. She couldn’t remember precisely where she’d been at the time, and she wasn’t sure it had mattered. She’d been close enough to Riften that she’d gone there. And then she’d found a job that took her across the country to Solitude.

She was on her way there when she’d run into the Stormcloak “High King” Ulfric and his men near Darkwater Crossing. They’d said something to her, had tried to convince her that she wanted to join their cause. Trying to convince her, an Imperial from Cyrodiil that she wanted to join their rebellion. She’d listened politely, prepared to tell them off when the Imperial Legion had sprung their trap. It didn’t matter that she was from Cyrodiil, didn’t matter who her father was. Her presence in the midst of the rebels had been enough to seal her fate.

She’d been up on the headman’s block, prepared for the end of her life when the dragon had interrupted her execution. There had been so much smoke. So much noise. She’d fallen, and the dragon had landed on her, its talons ripping through her clothing like it was nothing. She remembered her shriek of pain, remembered someone pouring a healing potion down her throat and dragging her away.

That someone had turned out to be Hadvar of Riverwood, a friend of sorts. She suspected that he saved her out of guilt, knowing that she had no place in this civil war, understanding that she was a bystander caught in the crossfire. She’d seen how conflicted he was as his captain had told him that she was to be executed.

Hadvar had saved her. Had brought her back to Riverwood and patched her up. Then he had asked something of her, knowing that it was impossible, but that she had the best chances of succeeding, and could travel to Whiterun. He might have gone himself, but he was a soldier, and had his orders.

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