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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)

Things were getting…tense, between them. Mostly he vented his frustrations by making passes at Ulfric, who would respond either with clever rejoinders or dumbstruck stoicism. It was infuriating, mostly because Audric could not tell what kind of game the man was playing — that was, if he was playing one at all. For all he knew, Ulfric thought him a young fool, and only indulged him long enough to amuse himself. Normally, Audric was content — happy, even — to be a thing of amusement, but not this time. Whatever he was doing, it needed to come to an end.

“Well, you look resigned to your fate.”

Audric blinked, snapped from his reverie, and found that Enthir was sitting beside him.

“I think if you stare at that wall any harder, you might bore a hole right through it.”

“Oh stop. And, you’re late.”

Enthir took a long swig from a steaming mug. “Got delayed by the weather, as you should have been. Did you really travel all the way through that squall? Isn’t there some fancy word or other in the Dragon tongue to simply bend the weather to your will?” he teased.

“No, not exactly.” Audric didn’t mean to be snippy, but he was annoyed with himself for having come through the storm and for being caught thinking about Ulfric. “Shouts are difficult, they require energy.”

“And I suppose you’d spent yours long before you arrived, hm? Give the next whore my regards.”

“Don’t be jealous, it shows your age.”

Enthir and Audric were friends, and very good business partners, but there was a thin layer of bitterness beneath their affection; Enthir had come onto Audric almost immediately, and Audric had turned him down. Still, they managed a close friendship, and Audric often felt safe coming to him for advice, which was why he was here at all.

“So, what brings you up here in a storm?”

“Well, your irresistible charms, and your infallible knowledge. What do you know about the Elder Scrolls?”

Enthir let the barb about his charms go and scrutinized Audric over the flickering candlelight. “I don’t have whatever information you’re looking for, but I know a place that does. Come on, we’d better get up to the Arcanaeum.”

“I…I don’t know. I mean, I don’t think I’m exactly…comfortable…up there…”

“Don’t worry about it, stick by me and no one will say anything.”

Audric sighed and stood. “They don’t have to.”

He was a piss-poor mage and he knew it, and so did everyone up at the College, by now. Why Enthir continued to associate with him in the company of other mages was beyond him; he was so embarrassed, he hardly wanted to associate with himself whenever he was there.

The Arcanaeum smelled of parchment and leather and tallow. Every time the wind howled, the glass panes rattled and the candles flickered. It was quiet and warm, and the endless shelves of books felt like Sanctuary.

Unwilling to accost Urag, Audric strayed to the side, flipping through the pages of a book about a place called Labyrinthian. It fascinated him so, that while Enthir inquired about information regarding the Elder Scrolls, he tucked it away in his bag.

“Do you at least have any information on them?” Enthir was getting nowhere, and fast, it sounded like.

“Do you even know what you’re asking about?” the Orc demanded suspiciously. “Or is this for one of your unsavory trades, Enthir? Besides, even if I had one here, I’d never let you see it. It would be kept under the highest security; the greatest thief in the world wouldn’t be able to lay a finger on it.”

Audric smirked, and decided to lend aid to the pursuit. Leaning on the gruff librarian’s desk, he said, “It’s perfectly understandable that you’re reluctant to put the Scroll — or any knowledge of it — into the hands of somebody’s errand boy. But, what about the Dragonborn?”

Urag scowled at him; Dragonborn or not, Audric had made an impression on the College, and not at all the right one. “And what do you plan to do with it?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Audric sighed, “pick it up for a bit of light reading, I suppose.”

“To read an Elder Scroll, a person most have the most rigorously trained mind,” he snorted, “or else risk madness. Even so, the Divines usually take the reader's sight as a price.”

From: (Anonymous)

Alarmed, Audric almost toppled backward over a stack of books. “As a price? A price for what?”

Smug at having startled the mischievous Dragonborn, Urag folded his hands together and said, “The simplest way to put it is 'knowledge,' but there's nothing simple about an Elder Scroll.” His beady eyes twinkled as he examined Audric. “It's a reflection of all possible futures and all possible pasts. Each reader sees different reflections through different lenses, and may come away with a very different reading. But at the same time, all of it is true. Even the falsehoods. Especially the falsehoods.”

Metaphysical babble was all well and good, as far as Audric was concerned, but this was hardly the time. He was on a clock, after all.

“Alright, well I need to find one, so could you at least point me in the right direction? Unless the idea of this entire library frying up in Dragon fire appeals to you.”

That seemed to put the old Orc into motion. He shuffled about the locked shelves, muttering angrily to himself, stacking books into his arms until he had amassed a pillar of knowledge and set it on his desk.

“This is everything I have on the Scrolls, though it isn’t much. Don’t get your hopes up; it’s mostly lies, leavened with rumor and conjecture. And don’t you dare spill anything on them.”

With a hefty eye roll, Audric took the books in his arms and found a table to sit at. Enthir offered to keep him company, for which he was grateful. As much as the Arcanaeum brought to him a sense of comfort and nostalgia, he didn’t relish the idea of being caught alone by one of the students or faculty. There were a lot of things in this school that had gone missing and he could well account for most of them.

Some people might find bookwork dreary or tedious, but Audric soaked in it like a warm bath. He read carefully, taking notes in his journal of anything that seemed even remotely helpful; dates, names, times. But nothing seemed to point him in a certain direction. He’d begun to make note of the Ancestor Moths, but when he realized there was no way he could achieve that kind of ability in time to defeat Alduin, he scrapped it.

Then, there were the Ruminations of Septimus Signus. Audric must have been frowning pretty hard, because Enthir tried to shake him from his work.

“Are you alright? You’ve been at this a while, maybe we should get something to eat —”

“No, no it’s not — it’s this, it’s like…” he struggled to put his concepts to words, “it’s like poetry.”

Enthir chuckled. “What do you know about poetry?”

“Not much,” Audric admitted, “but I like reading it. Anyway, this is about as close as I’ve come to anything helpful. I need to speak with this Septimus fellow.”

Enthir’s face fell, and he looked upon Audric with genuine sadness. “Why don’t you talk to Urag about that.”

I apologize yet again for the slow update. Real life keeps running me ragged, but when I have the time, this fic continues to prove itself a happy place of escape. I hope all of you are well!

Tags: relationship: slash, race: Nord, race: Breton, char: Ulfric Stormcloak, series: audric