Meme Announcements!

[skyrimkinkmeme]

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

Comments

Re: Fire and Potions - 30/?

[(Anonymous)]

Dorthe set down her hammer and walked over to the wood rail, and Farengar watched with curiosity as she hoisted herself up to stand upon it. Using a wooden beam for support, she reached up into the hay thatching of the roof and grabbed hold of an all but invisible black boot, giving it a good shake.

“Therion!” she called sharply. “Wizard’s here,” she said, adding a note of distaste to the word ‘wizard’.

Farengar heard a deep yawn and watched as the Dragonborn slowly emerged from the thatch, clad once more in his black leather armor. Therion stretched lazily, extending his lithe body with impressive flexibility. With a sigh of satisfaction he dropped his arms and, as his gaze fell on to Farengar, he let a sly grin form on his lips. In one nimble motion, he grabbed the edge of the roof with his hands, and flipped forward, agilely landing before him.

The wizard looked at him inquisitively. However he had expected adventurers, or at least the Dragonborn, to move, it had certainly not been like this.

“You’re covered in hay!” Dorthe said with a laugh, breaking Farengar’s trance.

“Am I?” Therion replied, trying, without success, to dust himself off.

“I told you to sleep inside,” Dorthe chided, snickering at the impressive amount of hay in his dark gold hair. In response, he tossed a handful of it over her head, causing her to shriek at him amidst laughter.

“As I said, I’ve had enough of being indoors for awhile. And I prefer to sleep where no one can sneak up on me,” he replied, retrieving his pack from behind the forge.

Farengar wondered how safe Therion could ever feel sleeping again, after his most recent encounter. Even Whiterun, which had always felt invulnerable to outside forces such as the Thalmor, had proven vulnerable. At the thought of the Thalmor, he felt his blood begin to boil again, thinking of the Nord victims held captive in their keeps.

“You’re leaving? Already?” Dorthe asked sadly, watching Therion retrieve his things.

The mer snorted. “Spare me the guilt.”

“But you’re still hurt,” Dorthe protested.

“Farengar will take care of me,” Therion said, turning his most charming smile on the wizard.

Farengar countered with a disparaging look, determined to show his immunity to the Dragonborn’s trite routine of flattery. The elf was used to getting his way by gaining the adoration of those around him; using his charisma to charm every guard, cook, maid, and member of the court in Dragonsreach. Even Irileth, (well, to a certain degree). He would have none of it.

As Farengar continued to stare reproachfully at him, Therion’s smile seemed to only intensify, as if purposefully vexing him. The wizard could not remember why he had ever wished that the elf would reawaken and wondered if it would really have been so bad if he had remained in an exhausted sleep, at least for a little while longer. Why had he been convinced seeing him smile would be anything other than infuriating?

“I am returning to Dragonsreach. I assume that it is also your destination?” Farengar asked.

“Indeed it is,” Therion said, placing his arm through a strap attached to a quiver of arrows and slinging a bow behind his back. “Shall we be off?”

The Dragonborn bid farewell to Dorthe and the two men set out through the town and finally onto the main road, leading deep into the wilderness.

Despite his recent injuries, the Dragonborn looked more than capable of handling trouble, making him a useful asset as a traveling companion. Adorned with his weapons and armor, he even looked rather formidable. Curious, he concentrated, tilting his head to the side and letting his eyes unfocus. As he suspected, there was a faint, dark green tint about the edges of his armor. Probably a form of stamina enchantment. He shifted his gaze to the Akaviri dai-katana on his belt, which had a curious red hue to it. Farengar could only guess at its purpose, possibly health related, or perhaps a fortification to his sword skill. He rarely bothered with sword enchantments, finding martial weaponry in general to be entirely tedious.

“See anything that interests you?” Therion asked, smirking at the wizard.