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
Call of the Blood 11.1/?
Date: 2013-07-09 12:26 pm (UTC)I stood there, naked and shivering, but unable to look away from the scene before me. I pushed away from Farkas and he let go of me, moving to his brother to shrug on his armour. I moved on unsteady feet round the altar, as I did Aela met my gaze.
"Igne, heal him!" Aela sobbed, as she knelt over Skjor's broken body. I flinched at the raw pain in her eyes. At the denial.
"Aela…" My voice cracked, "He's dead."
"Heal him! Please."
Nothing I could say would convince her, deep down I knew that. So I gathered my weakened magicka with effort, channelling it into Skjor's still warm corpse. The familiar golden light swirled about Skjor but the cuts and bruises remained and he lay utterly still. My head began to spin but I kept the spell going even as I sank to my knees.
"Enough." Dimly I registered being snatched up from the floor, rough cloth being pressed to my chest as I was dragged away.
When I regained my scattered senses I realised I was in one of the side rooms, a rough woollen blanket barely covering me, alone apart from Vilkas. He was stood in front of me, wearing just trousers and boots, hands grasping my upper arms, waiting for a response to a question I hadn't heard.
I blinked, "What?"
"Can you heal yourself?" His eyes flickered down, darkly taking in the burns and bruises on my body, barely covered by the blanket he had found. He was almost growling at me, fragile temper clearly about to snap, still on edge after his transformation. I felt myself quail under his gaze and I shook my head dully. He bit back on a curse, turning his back to me briefly before he spun back round, unusually indecisive, though I knew why.
"Go on. Get it over with." I was too tired to feel. My heart was sinking, I'd screwed up in so many ways. I kept my gaze on a piece of straw on the floor, unable to look at Vilkas.
"Get what over with?"
There was still an edge of anger to his voice, but he mostly sounded confused.
"The shouting." I replied dully. The pain was starting to creep into my awareness now, almost welcome stings piercing through the cloud of shock.
"You think I'm going to shout at you?"
He had stepped closer to me. I swallowed and nodded, fighting the tears of guilt and exhaustion. My vision blurred and the straw disappeared from sight.
"You're going to tell me how I fucked up. How I was stupid, and my stupidity got Skjor killed. That I'm worthless and don't deserve to be a Companion. That you were right all along-"
I was cut off as Vilkas stepped in again, gently pulling my chin up with a finger, forcing me to meet his gaze and the tears held in my eyes to spill down my cheeks. I could feel the warmth of his body soaking into mine and for a heartbeat everything else faded away.
"I don't think that."
I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Could only stand there staring at Vilkas, who looked as confused as I felt.
Call of the Blood 11.2/?
Date: 2013-07-09 12:29 pm (UTC)"How's Aela?" My cheeks felt flushed.
"Angry. Sad." Farkas gave a half-shrug, "She'll be alright, you know how tough she is, she just needs some space. She'll catch us up at Whiterun for the funeral. I've got the rest of your armour, brother and I've found some clothes that might fit you, Igne."
Vilkas nodded, brushing past me to take the clothes and armour and handing the bundle of cloth to me. I slipped into the stinking, dirty clothes. They were far too big, the shirt kept slipping off my shoulder, I had to roll up the sleeves and trouser legs and there was no belt. The boots were huge but I managed to rip the blanket Vilkas had thrust at me and shove it in the toes, though I wasn't looking forward to the journey back to Whiterun. I glanced down at myself, I looked like a child playing dress up. I cast my gaze round looking for some string or rope or something that I could use. Vilkas caught my eye, "What's the matter?"
I held the waistband of the trousers out, "I need a belt."
He slipped off his own thick leather belt and I took it, nodding almost shyly at him.
"Here. Take this as well," He was holding a dagger made from beautifully folded grey Sky-Forge steel, "Just in case."
My fingers brushed against his as I took it, "Thank you."
Then he was brushing past me to join Farkas who was waiting for them in the corridor, leaving me utterly lost.
Aela had vanished by the time I entered the chamber that contained Skjor. The two brothers carried Skjor's body down to the horses, past more Silver Hand corpses and past the cells in which myself and Skjor and who-knows-how-many had been held. I took point much to the brothers displeasure though no-one had been left alive to attack us and I felt a flicker of disappointment in my stomach. I wanted to make them pay. I felt unfulfilled, hollow and I wanted vengeance.
Snow was falling as I glided out into the courtyard. The dim sun, when I caught a glimpse of it through the grey clouds, hinted at it being mid-morning. The three horses we had been loaned from Jarl Igmund were waiting, pawing at the ground nervously. The black stallion didn't like the idea of carrying Skjor, shifting and whinnying as the two brothers lifted him onto it's back, covering him with a blanket and tying him on with ropes. I shivered, though whether it was from the cold air or whether it was the delayed shock of my ordeal, I couldn't say. Farkas glanced over at me, "I'll lead Skjor and take point. You'll ride with Vilkas, little Igne."
I was too tired to argue and almost missed the fleeting glance the two brothers exchanged, one of those lightning fast communications that only they understood.
Vilkas swung himself into the saddle of the roan and Farkas picked me up, like a child, the two of them settling me into the saddle in front of the smaller twin.
Once Farkas was settled the horses set off into the snowstorm. Dimly I thought about clearly up the sky with a quick LOK VAH KOOR but I couldn't bring myself to make the effort, could barely hold myself upright in the saddle. My head hurt. Every jolt of the horse sent agony coursing through me and only Vilkas's strong arms kept me from falling off.
Exhausted I leaned back against him, he stiffened for a moment and then a hand slid round my waist, holding me against him. His armour was cold at first but soon warmed up with our shared body heat and I felt my eyes drifting shut.
I'll just sleep for a moment.
Re: Call of the Blood 11.2/?
Date: 2013-07-09 03:29 pm (UTC)Re: Call of the Blood 11.2/?
Date: 2013-07-09 05:57 pm (UTC)Re: Call of the Blood 11.2/?
Date: 2013-07-09 09:30 pm (UTC)Re: Call of the Blood 11.2/?
Date: 2013-07-11 09:19 am (UTC)Re: Call of the Blood 11.2/?
Date: 2013-07-12 07:16 am (UTC)A!A here
Date: 2013-07-12 01:25 pm (UTC)The updates may be a little slower from here on out- I'm stuck working nights for the next two weeks :( and my poor brain gets confused with the time-switch ;) but I am working hard for you OP and wonderful readers!