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ANNOUNCEMENTS: UPDATED 12/16/2017

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Comments

A Twist of Fate 1a/?

[(Anonymous)]

The second A!A here :)

I’ll add the rest of the tags as needed!

Tags: char:M!PC char:F!PC race:Imperial race:Nord kink:rivalry kink:friendship char:Lucien_Lachance char:spectral_assassin kink:angst
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Kvasir looked on numbly as the Imperial caravan rejoiced smugly at their good fortune; he and his bretheren had all surrendered without a fight. His eyes had almost popped right out of his head as he rounded on his leader when the Jarl ordered his men to stand down.

But why? We would have died to protect you, Jarl Ulfric. Do you doubt us? Did you doubt our cause? Is that why you’ve given yourself over to this suicide?

Galmar would quite possibly follow them to Sovngarde just to kill them all a second time for allowing this to happen. There had been some commotion nearby, and many of the soldiers had gone off to attend to it. His fingers brushed against the tight knots, and he struggled feebly. Nearby, Ulfric, who had been gagged, gave him a stern, warning glare. Kvasir ceased his movements at once. Ralof had been resigned, staring dreamily at the distant outline of Bleak Falls Barrow as if he could see Sovngarde before him. It had been almost two days since their capture, and now it seemed as if their ordeal was drawing to a close.

An angry, dirty man amongst them cursed loudly, muttering about his almost-perfect heist.

Kvasir scoffed. Foolish thief.

The largest if the Legion’s convey returned, exchanging a hard glance with Ralof. He carried an unconscious woman in his arms; placing her carefully down near to them, binding her hands as they did to the rest. Kvasir barely discerned her face; it was shrouded with long, dark hair. She was small enough to be an Imperial; how ironic.

‘General Tullius is waiting in Helgen!’ a voice called from the road.

With swords at their backs, they were loaded into the awaiting carts. The unconscious Imperial woman was placed next to the Jarl, and the dark soldier who carried her smiled almost gleefully as he put her in. Kvasir caught the man’s eye and gave him an icy glare.

‘I hope you can keep that up when this one comes to,’ he said in an eager voice. ‘Have fun with the vampire.’

There was instant recoil within the caravan. The thief seemed as if he had almost wet himself. Jarl Ulfric had held his composure, this time, looking almost curiously at the woman, as if it was the first time he’d really looked at her. With a lurch, the carriage set off, with the large Nord following us on horseback.

The sudden movement of the cart seemed to rouse the woman. She shook her head lightly, opening her eyes, peering uncomfortably into the sunlight. She set ethereal red eyes on Ralof, who gave her an uneasy smile.

‘You’re finally awake.’

She looked around, wincing slightly.

‘You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us and that thief over there.’

‘I see I’ve picked a very inauspicious time to leave home,’ she said dryly. Her voice held that almost infuriating Imperial accent; the haughty, holier than thou voice of someone cultured.

The thief was almost hysterical. ‘Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn’t been looking for you, I could’ve stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell!’ the thief spat. He looked at the woman desperately. ‘You there…you and me, we shouldn’t be here. It’s these Stormcloaks the Empire wants. Now you’re cavorting with a vampire? Is there anything you all won’t do?

‘We’re all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief,’ Ralof said evenly. ‘Vampire, Nord, Imperial or otherwise.’

‘You wouldn’t mind doing me a favour, would you?’ the woman asked warily.

Ralof glanced at her, holding up his tied hands. ‘Not much I can do with these I’m afraid, but what is it?’

‘My hood,’ she said, turning slightly so that he could see the dark cloth. ‘You should be able to pull it over my head. The sun and I are not exactly…friendly…’

He nodded with uncertainty. What was he doing? This was a vampire. A cursed woman who quite possibly had just spent her days in the wilderness feasting on their kin.