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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

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From: (Anonymous)

“No problem, leave it to me,” Madanach murmured, plotting the details. “I'll send word to Nepos – when you get to the city, let him know the day before you plan to interrogate the man. He can get the whole thing set up for you, cariad. Don't worry, I've got plenty of agents who'll be happy to take care of him for you.”

“I didn't mean - !” Liriel cried. “I'm quite capable of doing my own killing, you know!”

“I know,” Madanach purred, nipping at her ear. “But see it from my point of view. I could let you go off on your own to assassinate this man, or alternately I could get Nepos to make the arrangements in advance for you, and you can spend the time saved here with me instead. How does that sound, macreena?”

“I thought men your age had trouble getting hard again right after sex?” Liriel asked, smirking up at him. Not for much longer, of that he was going to make certain.

“I don't know how skilled you are in Restoration magic,” he breathed in her ear. “But I have been studying that school extensively since I got out of prison, and it turns out that once a certain level of skill has been reached, it's possible for healing magic to restore more than just one's health. Witness.”

One casting later and Liriel was squealing as he'd rolled on to his back and hauled her on top of him, watching in amusement as he slid inside her and her eyes fluttered closed.

“That is cheating,” she whispered as his fingers closed on her hips, pulling her to him.

“Are you complaining?” he teased, loving the expression on her face as he moved inside her, beautiful golden skin on show and those gorgeous breasts within touching distance and damn, he'd always loved Altmer women. It was the eyes and the cheekbones and all that magicka seething away under their cool exterior. He'd never had a chance to have one though. Not until now. Until Liriel the Dragonborn had walked into his cell in Cidhna Mine and managed to look like a queen even in prison rags. He'd felt the magicka raging from three feet away. Of course he'd wanted her. He'd even been tempted to proposition her in return for helping her escape, but mercifully he'd had sufficient wit to send her off to get indoctrinated into the Forsworn cause instead. All the same, those hours when she'd been lying asleep in his prison bed and he'd been able to do nothing at all about it had been a slow form of torture.

He'd endured it any way. All significant moments in a Reachman's life should happen under the sky, and taking Liriel for the first time was something he'd intended to be one of them. He'd known he'd see her again on the outside. He could tell from the way she'd glared at him constantly but still cared enough to see to his comfort. He'd got to her, just as she'd got to him. And now she was his, riding him and crying out as he raked his nails down her back, kissed her furiously and entwined his fingers in her hair, his beautiful Altmer losing it in his arms.

“Madanach, love you, don't stop, please, please, yes, love you, yes!” she cried as she came, and Madanach finally let go himself, it being the declaration of love that set him off. Lust getting the better of her he could understand, but he could still barely believe she felt the same way he did. Afterwards she nestled in his arms and he just held her, stroking her hair and that perfect skin of hers and never wanting her to go. Stubborn, infuriating, somehow always managing to surprise him, and never mind him ruining her for anyone else, she'd completely destroyed his chances of ever finding another. No one was ever going to live up to a Dragonborn, no one. It was a good thing he had an heir, really. And if anything happened to Kaie, he could always acknowledge Argis publically and get the lad married off to a Reachwoman, that would work.

All this for an Altmer who some might call more trouble than she was worth. Madanach didn't care. She was worth the whole world to him. Even if she did seem to be intent on getting herself killed doing something spectacularly dangerous. Well, right here, right now, she was in his arms, safe and protected. He'd bought himself a few days with her. Time to make the most of it.

From: (Anonymous)

Three mornings later, and the agents for Virane's murder were in place, and Liriel and Argis were heading off. Goodbyes were said, shrieking and bouncy from Cicero, affectionate if teasing from Kaie, Liriel petting Cicero and telling him to behave, giving Kaie a hug and a long embrace for Madanach. Argis growled at Cicero, gripped Kaie's hand and hugged her, and then came to Madanach, hesitating before him.

“Don't die,” said Madanach gruffly. “You're her housecarl, I'm told that means you can override her orders if it's for her own safety.”

“Sworn to my service, Argis!” Liriel shouted, glaring at Madanach. Argis lowered his eyes, hiding a smile.

“I'll be sure to keep us both alive, sir,” he said quietly. A look of pain flickered across Madanach's face as he said it, as it had done for the last couple of days every time Argis called him sir.

“You do that, lad,” Madanach said, patting his arm. “Don't break an old man's heart.”

“I won't,” Argis said, gripping Madanach's hand in his own for the briefest of seconds before mounting Liriel's horse. Liriel was already mounted on Shadowmere. A few more goodbyes, a blown kiss for Madanach from Liriel and then they were gone, Madanach's son and lover riding off to face who knew what.

Don't break an old man's heart. Everyone listening would have thought he meant Liriel, and yes, he would mourn profusely if he lost her. He'd not really expected to take another lover, certainly not find a queen. She'd be hard to replace and he'd miss her horribly.

Losing his son might just break him. Little Argis, not so little any more, but Madanach had never forgotten coming face to face with Inga again the night they took Markarth, seeing his former lover standing by her forge, battleaxe in hand, but not charging. Just defending her territory. They'd locked eyes, recognised each other and Madanach had felt his heart skip. The one Nord who'd ever been kind to him, saved his life in fact. Then he'd seen the small boy with hair the same colour as his own, exactly the right sort of age to be his, and he'd looked back at her and seen it in her eyes. He had a son. He'd snapped out to leave her, if she stayed in her home with her boy, she was no enemy of his, and Inga had taken the hint and ran back inside, barricading herself and her son in her house. He'd left two of his men on guard and moved on, but he'd not forgotten, and when he'd finally got everything settled down, he'd deliberately let his eldest daughter wander around the city, secretly rejoicing when she'd befriended her half-brother. It had been the perfect opportunity to get to know his son and get to know Inga again. He'd not returned to her bed, he'd got no intention of risking Mireen's wrath. But they'd become friends, and that was more than he'd hoped for. Then the Stormcloaks had come and... He really didn't like remembering that night when everything had slid into the Void. They'd had to drag him out of the city, Nepos telling him to go, he'd take care of things there, they couldn't replace their king. Mireen had had no compunctions about fleeing with the girls, the youngest not even three months old, but Madanach had realised Inga didn't have the protection his queen did, and not even her Nord blood might be enough to save her. He'd sent guards to get her and Argis to safety before finally fleeing as the gates smashed open.

Several nervewracking hours later, and he'd been preparing himself for the worst, for a city sacked and ruined, countless dead, Inga dead and not pleasantly, he could only guess how they'd treat a collaborator, Argis maybe dead, maybe not, maybe an orphan or at best adopted by a Nord family who'd turn him against the Forsworn and all they stood for, Mireen caught trying to flee with the girls and cut down where she stood and his baby girls dead, all of them, four innocent lives snuffed out.

From: (Anonymous)

And then they'd brought Argis, terrified, sobbing, absolutely traumatised, his mother dead and that had hurt to hear, it really had, but he was here, alive, safe, and Madanach hadn't even hesitated. His son was alive, and he'd sworn there and then that he'd take care of him. Argis had barely believed him and had just cried harder, but he'd not objected when Madanach tucked him up in his own bed and got him food and water. Argis had slept alongside his father until he got too big for the tent, at which point he'd been given his own on the top level. For five years, he'd had a son, a strong and healthy one, brave, fearless, skilled in combat and archery and the ability to give a bear concussion with one punch, which had saved his life and made for an excellent story. Who cared if he towered above the rest of the camp by fifteen and couldn't get to grips with the simplest spells? Madanach loved him anyway, and the feeling was absolutely mutual, he'd known it. Then he'd ended up in Cidhna Mine, seen the Nords take Argis away and he'd been forced to lie, tell them the boy had been captured in a raid, the Hags needed innocent Nord blood for a ritual. He'd not seen the boy for another five years until one day a new guard came in to see him. His son had returned, a man not a boy, left eye gone in what had been a sabre cat attack, but for all that, looking well. Apart from the downcast eyes and quietly calling him sir, not father. A Forsworn agent in the guards, trained by Nepos all this time and having had it driven home that he must act as if Madanach was his king, not his kin. Madanach agreed with the reasoning, but it still broke his heart. All the same, if Mireen had ever found out Argis existed... Madanach couldn't protect him from inside Cidhna Mine, and Argis would be powerless against Mireen's formidable magic. So he'd done the best he could and treated him like just another agent. Now he didn't know how to do anything else. He'd hoped Argis understood anyway, but now Liriel was saying he knew no such thing. His son thought he was a disappointment, and there was nothing Madanach could do about it. He wasn't sure Argis would believe him no matter how much he complimented him.

“All right,” Madanach announced to the camp. “You lot are heading off to the north. The rest of you, head south. We've got a dire situation on our hands. We're running out of jenever.”

That galvanised everyone and aside from the sentries, the rest of the camp tore out to scour every juniper tree for miles around. All apart from Kaie, who raised an eyebrow and sauntered up to her father.

“You've got two whole bottles stashed away in your tent, and I've still got a little as well. What are you up to?”

“Wanted the camp cleared,” said Madanach, leading her up to the top tier. “I need to talk to you. In private. Something I should have told you years ago.”

Maybe he couldn't make things as they'd been before. But by the gods, it was about time he did the right thing by his son. Mireen was in her grave and Madanach was done hiding.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Over my dead body!” Anton Virane snapped at the Altmer in red and black staring glacially down at him. “I swore to keep it a secret, and I'll take that secret to my grave.”

The woman leaned in, yellow eyes unblinking.

“For the Dark Brotherhood, that can easily be arranged.”

“The – the Dark Brotherhood.” Now that was a whole other story, and Mara it was true, it had to be, the red and black and those cold yellow eyes, this woman was a true-born killer and no mistake, and weren't there rumours she had escaped Cidhna Mine with the Forsworn? “Now – now wait a minute, I'm sure he wouldn't want me to endanger my own life...”

Liriel listened as Anton babbled the Gourmet's identity, filing away the name and location. An Orc, interesting, she didn't think he'd one of them. Orc cooking was mostly filling and meaty from what she'd heard, not a lot of variety there. Maybe that was why he'd left home and gone to High Rock. Well, he wouldn't be going anywhere once she was done.

“Thank you, you've been very helpful,” she told the hapless chef. “That's all I needed to know. You have a good day now.”

“Wait, that's it?” Anton asked, confused. “I can go?”

From: (Anonymous)

“That's it,” Liriel said, smiling. “The Dark Brotherhood don't need anything else. We're done.”

“Oh! I – that's such a relief, thank you!” Anton laughed nervously. “I'll be getting back to work then. You, er, go safely.”

“I will,” Liriel murmured, taking her leave. It was as she got to the passage leading to the Keep's exit that she heard mage armour being cast, Destruction magic flaring and the sound of someone, probably the young man who'd been quietly sweeping the floor in the background, shouting “Glory to the Forsworn!”

The Dark Brotherhood may have finished with Anton Virane, but the Forsworn were just getting started.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Argis was waiting for her at Vlindrel Hall, ebony armour on, practicing a few moves with Dawnbreaker. He stopped as she walked in, coughing and hastily putting the sword down.

“Er... hello, I was just...er...”

“Training, I know, it's important to practice your fighting skills,” said Liriel, unable to repress a smile. So quiet and modest, unlike his father. It made for a nice change.

“Right, yeah,” said Argis, looking relieved. “So where now? Doesn't look like you're having to leave in a hurry.”

“No, thankfully, but I do need to get moving. I've got a Scroll to read and work to do.”

“No problem,” said Argis, reaching for his own sword. “When do we leave?”

Here came the part she'd been dreading. “I'm leaving within the hour. You are staying here.”

“What??” Argis cried, and now the resemblance was showing, very definitely. “With all due respect, Liriel, you can't be serious. It's dangerous, you'll need a bodyguard!”

“Yes, it'll be dangerous, which is why you're not going,” said Liriel firmly. “I can't risk you getting hurt, your father will be heartbroken!”

“I'm meant to be guarding you!” Argis cried. “You think he'll be upset if I die, he'll lose it if anything happens to you!”

“You're his son!” Liriel shot back.

“You're his queen!”

“I am not his queen!” Liriel glared at him, wishing the stubborn idiot would just give in already. Yes, no doubt about it, just like his father.

“That's not how he sees it,” Argis growled, glaring back. “Liriel, please. I'm thirty five and a highly trained warrior, I can look after myself.”

“I'm 133 and the Dragonborn Archmage, I'm no pushover myself,” said Liriel, unwilling to back down. Let a member of the House of Madanach get their way once, they'd be impossible forever. “Look, if it helps, I don't intend to go alone, I have another friend lined up. But you're not coming. I'm not risking you any more. Not now – not now I know.”

“Gods damn it, it's not like he never has,” Argis said bitterly. But he knew when to give in to the inevitable. “Fine, Dragon-Queen. Have it your way. But if you get killed...”

“I won't,” said Liriel softly, patting Argis' arm. “Thank you. You're a good man. Madanach does love you, you know. He's proud of you, he told me.”

“Yeah,” said Argis quietly, sitting down and watching as Liriel began to pack. “I'm sure he did.”

Liriel wished she could convince him Madanach meant it, but unless Madanach actually acknowledged Argis openly, she doubted he'd ever truly believe he was good enough for his father. It was sad, especially if they'd once been close. Still, she'd done what she could. She couldn't force Madanach to sort his family out.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Reading the Scroll had been the easy part. Liriel had taken Eola with her, even got her original Shrouded Armour adjusted to fit Eola properly at Warmaiden's, and they'd gone to the Throat of the World together. Whereupon Eola had shrieked to see Paarthurnax there, then squealed with delight on learning he was friendly and promised not to say a word. Then Liriel had read the Scroll, seen Alduin's banishment, learnt Dragonrend in the process, come back to herself, and then all Oblivion had broken loose as Alduin had turned up. The fight had been a hard one, but Liriel and Eola's magic had carried the day. Alduin fled, but a partial victory was no victory at all in Liriel's eyes.

From: (Anonymous)

“So how do I get to Sovngarde to stop him?” Liriel asked. “Ideally without having to die.”

Paarthurnax had laughed and told her she would not have to die, one of Alduin's allies might be persuaded to help, but first she'd need to trap him. In Dragonsreach. Palace of the Jarl of Whiterun. Now Balgruuf was well-disposed towards Liriel, but not so well-disposed that he'd let her just borrow his palace, not with the war going on anyway. She'd ended up having to persuade Arngeir to host a peace conference between Tullius and Ulfric, to arrange a truce so she could deal with the dragons.

So here she was, here they all were, and it was not going well. Already they'd nearly had a walk out over Elenwen's presence. Not wanting to be seen as a Thalmor sympathiser by anyone, Liriel had sided with Ulfric on that one, much to Tullius' displeasure.

Then everything had gone to the Void with Ulfric's next demand.

“We want Markarth,” Ulfric had snapped. “That silver belongs in Skyrim, not being shipped out to Cyrodiil.”

Markarth... no... Liriel had listened, powerless, as the arguing developed and it rapidly became clear that Ulfric wasn't going to back down on this one. If she wanted to defeat Alduin, she'd have no choice but to sell out the Reach. Finally, they'd all stopped to ask her what she thought the Reach was worth.

“More than you could even begin to understand, Stormcloak,” Liriel hissed. “The Reach belongs to its people, not you.”

“Oh, so it's true about you and the Forsworn then,” Ulfric purred, leaning closer, looking at her with interest. “I had wondered. A word of advice, Dragonborn. Don't get too attached. When I have won this war, I shall make sure my Jarl in the Reach has the full support of my armies in clearing that bandit rabble out for good. Skyrim belongs to the Nords, and I don't intend to let any Breton witches get in the way.”

“You will never win this war,” Liriel breathed, feeling the blood rush to her face as she repressed the urge to destroy him there and then. “Not while there is life in me.” Ulfric looked on, amused.

“You're going to fight the World-Eater – your life might be shorter than you think,” Ulfric laughed. “Don't get too confident, Dragonborn.” He turned back to Tullius, arms folded.

“The Reach for the Stormcloaks, Tullius. My only offer.”

“General, you cannot be serious!” Elisif cried from Tullius' side, and Liriel felt relieved that at least one other person felt similarly to her, albeit for very different reasons.

“I said I'll handle this, Elisif!” Tullius said sternly. Elisif sat back, clearly seething but saying nothing. Liriel felt sorry for her. Poor thing, with Tullius making all the war decisions, it was abundantly clear she didn't have a lot of real power. She wished there was something she could do for her, but what Elisif would probably most want was her husband back and the war over. Liriel couldn't really do a lot about the husband, but at least she could get this whole mess sorted out and Ulfric's head on a pike – one day anyway. For now, she'd just have to lump it.

“We want the Rift,” she heard herself say. “The Rift for the Reach, or no deal.”

Now it was Ulfric's turn to protest, but in the end, he gave up and conceded. There were a few more negotiations after that, but smaller ones, and at length the conference was done. Then a few discussions on the dragon trapping plan, and Delphine trying to get her attention, saying there was a problem, a serious one. Damn right there was. Ulfric Stormcloak's armies were going to be occupying the Reach in days, and Madanach knew nothing.

Never mind the dragons, Liriel had a King in Rags to warn.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Oh Ulfric, you magnificent bastard, you. Why you always got to throw a spanner in the works, hmm? Next chapter, we get to see Madanach's reaction to Liriel having just handed his country over to the Silver-Bloods.