![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
skyrimkinkmeme CLOSED FOR PROMPTS,
BUT OPEN FOR FILLS
HELPFUL TIPS
BUT OPEN FOR FILLS
HELPFUL TIPS
>Please post your prompts with the paired characters and any notable kinks/trigger warnings in the title.
>When posting prompts, always remember to add kinks you're both looking for and wanting to avoid in a potential fill.
>When filling, please remember to add your story tags: characters, relationship types, kinks, series and universe (ie: skyrim)
>Our character limit here at LJ is 4300.
>If you have any other questions about posting, visit the HOW TO KINK MEME THREAD, under the Page Summary on your left.
>When posting prompts, always remember to add kinks you're both looking for and wanting to avoid in a potential fill.
>When filling, please remember to add your story tags: characters, relationship types, kinks, series and universe (ie: skyrim)
>Our character limit here at LJ is 4300.
>If you have any other questions about posting, visit the HOW TO KINK MEME THREAD, under the Page Summary on your left.
A Nerevarine in Skyrim
Date: 2012-09-09 11:29 pm (UTC)I want the Nerevarine to come back from kicking it in Akavir, to find Tamriel as they know it is completely changed. How they react is up to you. Do they meet up with the DB and cause all sorts of havoc? Steal all the sweet rolls in Windhelm? Angst? Bring all their new groupies from Akavir over and pound the Altmer into the ground? You choose!
I'm assuming that the 'immunity to age' bit of their altered corpus infection equates to something close to immortality for the sake of this prompt. Ergo any of the races work, same thing goes with gender. Think of this prompt as an excuse to bring back your Morrowind character and to go nuts.
Bonus points:
-If the DB and Nerevarine do meet up, I'd like to see them comparing conquests - with the Nerevarine basically going 'bitch please, I killed two living gods (Dagoth and Almalexia), plus the physical form of a Daedric Prince, your argument is invalid'.
Re: A Nerevarine in Skyrim
Date: 2012-09-12 07:15 am (UTC)Two? Why not three? >:]
Re: A Nerevarine in Skyrim
Date: 2012-09-12 10:07 am (UTC)Re: A Nerevarine in Skyrim
Date: 2012-10-12 08:16 pm (UTC)Comparing those three to the Eldest son of Akatosh who nearly took over the world and was only cast out by trickery involving an Elder Scroll, well Alduin could kick their asses even when they were fully powered.
I just get really annoyed by the Almsivi being equated to Alduins level of strength, because they are but feeble shades in comparison.
Rant over.
Re: A Nerevarine in Skyrim
Date: 2012-10-14 04:48 am (UTC)Fair enough. I wouldn't go as far as to say they would have had their asses kicked at full power, two of them did duel Dagon back in the first era and managed to banish him back to Oblivion. (Though at great cost.) They had a good amount of strength back then and probably could have given Alduin a run for his money - though probably not defeated him.
However you're right that the 'bonus points' line really had no merit, however impressive those two kills were. I was just bored and threw it in there for laughs. Sorry if it bothered you this much.
Mead, thievery, and other social lubricants. [part 1/2]
Date: 2013-01-11 12:38 am (UTC)“Heyyyy, hey, don’t you know any other songs?” Azura’s tits, she was drunk. These Nords didn’t know how to drink right. Their mead was not nearly aromatic enough for her tastes, and she missed the sujamma from Vvardenfell. When that nice dunmer from the marketplace had assured her that he knew where to find some and would get his hands on a shipment soon, she'd been filled with glee; after so many decades drinking Akaviri swine piss, so light she could only get giggly after a couple bottles, Viatrix had feared she'd never see decent alcohol again. At first she’d thought she’d act drunker than she actually was, just to see what exactly she was getting into, but after a few more tankards she found that she didn’t have to act anymore. And she didn’t care, either.
“Nah, your turn, miss. I’m goin’ to listen now.” At least her drinking companion was fun. He reminded her of someone she used to know, all smiles and swift as a cat, but that one was a Bosmer, and this one was most definitely a human. Breton, maybe? He’d offered her a drink of mead when she’d managed to get herself thrown out by the Argonians running the local inn, and had invited her in this rat hole she wouldn’t have mistaken for a tavern even while high on Skooma. He apparently hadn’t missed how she’d managed, in the brief commotion that had preceded her defenestration, to stick her fingers in a dozen of pockets and relieve the owners of some lovely jewels they certainly had no need for. Starting a brawl was surprisingly easy in those cities, what with all that civil war deal, although the woman behind the counter hadn’t appreciated her amazing debate skills... and now there she was, getting drunk with a stranger under the suspicious eyes of other strangers in slinky leather armor. No, that was obviously a thievery den, and he was either trying to rob her blind or recruit her.
Except she’d somehow managed to talk him into drinking just as much as she did, if not more. And sing tavern songs. She wondered why that blonde kept glaring at them... they were absolutely amazing singers. Well, not really, but they were definitely having fun.
“You sure, sera? You’ve heard how bad I am.” She chuckled, tankard in her hand as she gestured, still eloquent as ever; except that she had no idea about where she was planning to get to, this time, and so, beyond getting him drunk, she wasn’t too sure what to do. Oh well. Maybe something would get to her mind after the next bottle. “Ever heard Farewell to Colovia? No? Can’t believe you know none of those! Wait, or this… We lost some gallant gentlemen from ranks of brave House Dreee-enim…” She started singing, this time alone.
“Heh, never heard those either. What’s that, Dunmer?”
“And many a wand'ring widow weeps on the hills of Molag Beee-eran… O-oh, yeah, Dunmer. Ah, but forget about it, too sad a song for such a fun night.”
“So true, friend… so true. Ah, but did I hear right before? Out of a job, aren’t you?” Ah-ah, there it was! He was getting to the point. He could stick to his goal, she had to give it to him, even though it looked like it was getting a bit hard to stay on focus, even for him. Or maybe he was playing the same game she’d been trying to, and was beating her. That was possible, too, she knew better than to turn overly confident, even after all those years of practice. As a response to his question, she sighed dramatically, though in a clearly joking manner.
“Why yes, out of a job. But I did arrive only a couple days ago. Maybe I’ll find something… look around, see if anyone has need for a bit of subtlety and a quick sword arm…” She trailed off, with a mischievous smile, her fingers caressing the crescent blade she’d rested against the chair, the only unusual trinket she’d allowed herself to carry around for everyone to see. Daedric weapons were as unusual there as anywhere else, but nobody could blame her for being well armed.
Re: Mead, thievery, and other social lubricants. [part 2/2 + tags]
Date: 2013-01-11 12:41 am (UTC)“As I said… maybe. I’m actually here for a reason, you know?” She laughed to herself, bending just a little bit over the table to get closer to him. The gleam in his eyes told her that they had already irremediably turned from friendly drinking to business talk, and although she would’ve liked to play the fool for a little more, it was best to show her hand now and be done with it. Especially since it was getting harder to avoid sounding slurred by the minute. “Or maybe we can help each other, this friend of yours and I. You think he can help me relocate something I’ve… lost?”
“Everythin’s possible, miss. Now why don’t you listen to this and tell me if sounds like your kind of thin'…”
They didn’t stick to business for long; soon, they’d ended up drinking again, and sharing stories. She liked this Delvin fellow well enough, she decided. Maybe this whole thieves guild deal could be worthwhile, at least as long as she waited for the events to unfurl. She did have a mission, but it wasn’t time, yet… Right now she just wanted her trusted little Keening back. And a bed. That sounded pretty good, actually, now that she thought of it.
But even before that, a sip of Cyrodilic Brandy. It couldn’t be as bad as she remembered it, right?
[TAGS: char:nerevarine, char:delvin, kink:crack/humor]
Mead, thievery, and other social lubricants. [part 2.1]
Date: 2013-01-11 05:03 pm (UTC)While the first part was genfic, this is going to turn smutty in a very short time. Be prepared.]
When she came back to her senses, Viatrix was holding onto her drinking buddy’s shoulder as he carried her off to what she could only suppose to be a bed. At first, she was a bit disappointed. It wasn’t like her to just blackout that way… maybe the long time spent far from real civilization really had taken a toll on her. When she stopped to think about it for the very first time, she realized that she hadn’t been drunk for a very long time. What if she’d gotten unused to alcohol? Or worse than that, what if, despite what she thought, her social skills had gotten sloppy?
Perish the thought. That was one of her main weapons, dammit!
“By Oblivion, you’re heavier than you look”, she heard Delvin mutter, and grinned, propping herself up on his arm to get back on her feet.
“That’s not a nice thing… to tell a lady, you know?”
“A lady!” He snorted. “Must be a fine place you come from, if ladies drink as much as you do. That would solve a couple problems o’mine…”
“Says the one who’s finished the bottle of brandy on his own after I gave up…”
“Not bloody likely to let a good thin’ go to waste.” His face looked a little blurry, but then again, so did the ground. “So, you goin’ to tell me why did you let me drink you into this state, if you knew I meant business the moment you saw me approach?”
“Thought I’d humor you at first, then I thought it’d be fun. How about you? You don’t look that much better than I am, really…”
“Thought I’d humor you at first, then I thought it’d be fun. And, who knows, thought maybe I’d get lucky.” Oh. Oh. That explained how touchy he’d gotten with her when she’d started telling him about that one time she’d raided a temple of the Divines and replaced all of the coins in their coffers with chickpeas from Hammerfell. Ah, that had been hilarious.
“Well, I can’t blame a man for trying.” She simply smirked at him, her mind elsewhere for a short while. Really, how long had it been since she’d last let a man touch her? More importantly, how long had it been since she’d last been consistently around humans? Azura visited her from time to time to give her instructions, in Dunmer form, and she had some contacts keeping her updated about the outside world events, but it wasn’t the same as being in a city, surrounded by people. Just before he opened his mouth to talk, she spoke again, feeling more melancholic than she’d expected to be. “There was this girl, you know. Pretty little wood elf thing, blonde, lovely doe eyes. Name was Galbedir. I’d try to get her drunk and into bed every now and then, but she just fell asleep after a while. The others found it so amusing.” She snorted, then chuckled, despite herself. It actually was pretty funny, just not to her.
Mead, thievery, and other social lubricants. [part 2.2]
Date: 2013-01-11 05:05 pm (UTC)“Me? I don’t know. Sometimes. Sometimes it’s the skirts that chase me…” She winked, jokingly, and then shrugged, as she tried not to stumble on her feet. “With a sword, usually. Yelling at me to get down from the roof and face justice. And sometimes I chase… nah, chase pants just doesn’t have that ring to it, now, does it?”
“Not at all!” He roared with laughter, his arm tightening a little around her waist before he let her plop down on a bed. The thick blanket felt rough under her fingers, but it probably was the best she could hope for, in such a harsh climate. Or she could go with furs. Those tended to have a strange smell, though. “You know what? You’re frightfully odd for such a lovely young woman. We’ve spoken all night, and I still can’t figure whether you’re makin’ up even just half the stories you tell, or where exactly you come from. And that’s unusual, let me tell you.”
“I know! It’s the accent. It’s a mess. I picked up a bit here, a bit there… now I don’t even know what it sounds like anymore.” Crossing her legs as she sat on the mattress, she pointedly ignored how he’d called her young. Or lovely, for that matter. Azura bless her, she’d never been a beauty, not even before she’d gotten jailed. Forgery, murder by poison, political treason and disrespecting the guards. She’d been such a difficult kid… And lucky she’d gotten away with it with only a number of years of jail and her sudden shipment to Vvardenfell, too. Her family’s good standing was to thank for that.
But the man in front of her didn’t seem like he wanted to leave just yet, and sat down by her side. Maybe he was still hoping to get lucky, maybe he just wanted to keep talking. Did it even matter? She was having way too much fun, after such a long time only thinking about duty. She realized that her sword was still strapped across her back, and was the reason she was feeling so uncomfortable and stiff while sitting, so she pulled the leather harness over her head, freeing herself from the weight.
“Travelled a lot?”
“Yes. A whole lot. All across Tamriel, and beyond.” Was he seriously pulling her close to him, with a hand firmly gripping her butt? And was she seriously letting him do that? She snorted with laughter, then turned to face him, with a smile on her lips that was meant to challenge him. “Heyyy. Your hands travel an awful lot, too. You sure you’re not trying to rob me?”
“If I were tryin’ to rob you, miss, you wouldn’t be feelin’ it, I assure you.” The slightly slurred quality of his speech made it clear that, even though he was nowhere near as wasted as she was, he had found more than he’d bargained for when he started sharing drinks with her. Still, he was quite controlled. And not likely to back down from the challenge, if his grin was any proof.
“Trying to tell me you’re better than I am? How rude! After the display of prowess I gave you at that blasted inn”, she mockingly pouted as she trailed off and shifted onto the bed, ending up facing him with her whole body, and not just her face. With her breasts pressed up against his chest. That wasn’t exactly what she meant to do, to be completely honest. “Tell me at least you enjoyed watching?” She finished, with a tone that could’ve been either sultry or sarcastic. Maybe both at the same time.
Mead, thievery, and other social lubricants. [part 2.3]
Date: 2013-01-11 05:07 pm (UTC)Maybe a little too touchy for someone she’d just met, though?
“Woah… now you call me a lady? While you grope every inch of me? Now that’s a real gentleman if I’ve ever seen one!” She laughed out loud, and found herself rolling her hips to meet his hands. Mmh, but that didn’t feel so bad, now…
“I don’t see you complainin’, miss. Actually… might it be that you’re havin’ some fun with this gentleman?” He started nuzzling her neck, now, peppering her flesh with kisses, and with that she knew she was going to come undone in his hands in no time. Her neck was her weakest spot. That had to be the reason her knees had gotten so wobbly… or, no, maybe it was all the mead. “Oh, but you’re all squirmin’ and sighin’ now, ain’t that so? I must be doin’ something right…”
“Damn right. You keep that up, you might just… get lucky…” She sighed, stifling back a moan, and finding it a little difficult to speak, now. His fingers fleetingly brushed against her slit, and she wondered whether he could feel her growing damp through her pants. Resignedly, she laced her arms around his neck. It was about time she got laid, anyway. Her last one had been way too long before, and this Delvin… wasn’t half bad at what he did.
“As the ma’am desires…” He muttered under his breath, nibbling along the line of her neck, and his hands started roaming freely over her body, one slipping under her shirt to dig his fingers through the firm muscles of her back, the other sliding gently along her thigh, up and down, getting closer and closer to her hips. He found the cloth bound around her chest and made quick work of it, and as soon as her heavy breasts sprung free his other hand had already reached around to slip into her pants, making her jump in surprise.
She would’ve protested for how quickly he was proceeding, had his mouth not found the perfect spot to torment over and over, making her turn into a whimpering mess. Viatrix started to loosen up a little, her previously rigid stance turning into a real embrace as she explored his shoulders and back, head tilted to offer him more room for those delightful little kisses and bites. Meanwhile, his fingers had found her sex, shifting aside her undergarments to delve between her folds, and a sound of arousal came deep from his lips as he found her wet and willing. He lifted his head, following her jaw to finally find her mouth, and as he kissed her deeply he could feel her arching under his hands.
Gods, she wanted him to take her. Right now, that took priority over any possible shame or regret she might feel the morning after. She purred into the kiss and finally stopped struggling, pressing herself shamelessly against his hand; immediately, she felt one of his fingers entering her, slick with her juices, then another, and as his mouth returned diligently to her neck and collarbone she almost mewled in bliss when he curled them to stroke firmly a part of her she’d neglected for too long. Her head felt heavy, and she stumbled forward to rest it against his shoulder, biting hard the leather of his armor. By Azura, could it be that she was almost undone at the very first stroke? She gasped, defeated, as he felt him curl his fingers once more, then another time…
Mead, thievery, and other social lubricants. [part 2.4]
Date: 2013-01-11 05:08 pm (UTC)“My, my. Already? Should old Delvin feel proud, or are you just that sensitive?” He hadn’t stopped, just kept torturing her with his touch, but his other hand had slipped to the front of her shirt, fingers teasingly circling around her nipples through the fabric. Then, all of a sudden, he pulled out from her, bringing his soaked fingers to his mouth and leaving her empty. Some place inside Viatrix tightened with lust; her eyes looked darkened as she watched him savor her climax, and she briskly wiggled out of her pants, panting heavily.
“Just fuck me already”, she purred, and the crass way she spoke would’ve clashed against the sweet smile she gave him, if it wasn’t for the predatory undertone all of her actions had taken. Her head was spinning, her whole body felt weak. The only thing she cared for was the ache between her legs.
“No, I think I’m goin’ to take it slowly from here…” He pushed her with her back against the mattress, unlacing the rugged strips that held her shirt closed, then bared her breasts to the night air, slightly cold even in that closed place. “See if you’re always the silent kind. I like those, you know? Makes it even more fun when they end up screamin’ my name…” He was stroking her nipples now, purposefully ignoring the way she was spreading her legs for him. That damn little… she frowned at him, nearly gasping in need.
“Careful, now, you’re sounding like a serial killer…” She tried her best to sound more displeased than aroused, but she was well past acting by now, and the growl that came out betrayed more than she cared to let him see. “And since I’m at your mercy…”
“What? You offend me, miss. I’m nothin’ but a gentleman…” They glanced at each other, and burst out chuckling at the same time. Viatrix, actually, was still laughing, her eyes closed, when she felt the straps around her hips being pulled and his mouth suddenly pressing against her bare sex, lips brushing against its entirety before his tongue came out to dive between her lips. The unexpected pleasure tore her breath away, and heft her with her eyes wide open, fingers clenching around the sheets as she rolled her hips to meet his mouth. So good… Even the way his stubble scratched against her sensitive flesh was somehow amazing. She soon lost count of the minutes, only focusing on her own body and on the way his hands periodically shifted from grasping at her hips, to groping her ass, and up again to pull gently at her breasts.
It was almost entrancing, so different from the maddening pleasure his fingers inside of her had given her a little before. The little licks, his lips sealing now and then around her clit to suck vigorously, the way she could feel his chin pressing against her entrance and growing slick and wet with her arousal… Viatrix decided that, given the chance, she could take that all night long.
Eventually, he pulled back from her, breathing heavily as he glanced up at her face. Was he looking a little disappointed, or was that the alcohol clouding her judgment? “I may be getting’ a little rusty in this department…” The look on his face at that admission was priceless, and she smiled at him, gesturing seductively to come up to her while one of her own hands covered his, delving then further to tease at her breast. But of course. He wanted to make her come again. How sweet of him!
Mead, thievery, and other social lubricants. [part 2.5]
Date: 2013-01-11 05:10 pm (UTC)Before she even managed to finish speaking, she felt his hard cock pressing at her entrance, and his mouth once again biting at her neck, but harder, now, with a sort of hunger he’d been probably holding back for their whole encounter. Viatrix caressed his shoulders passionately as he teased for the last time before pressing himself hard into her in a single stroke. She wasn’t sure whether she’d moaned or not, it had been too sudden, and her head was spinning so hard… Then he started thrusting furiously, and her sighs had turned more breathy, one step below a moan. She came rather quickly, her body too fatigued to resist any longer. Even despite all of the confusion the rocking movements had awakened in her mind, she felt herself distinctly moaning out his name, and her muscles clenching and releasing rhythmically.
She couldn’t blame him when he found his own release a couple seconds after, with only enough presence of mind to pull out at the last moment, his thick seed spilling on her mound. That had lasted far too long for the amount of alcohol they had that night, and then again, she was only barely conscious by then. She thought she saw him trembling over her, but she couldn’t be sure… her vision was getting blurrier. Sleep sounded like a pretty good thing…
When Viatrix woke up, she was triumphant to realize that she felt absolutely no shame or regret for what had transpired. Delvin was already up and dressed, but hadn’t left the room yet, and grinned in amusement when he saw her lifting her head up in an attempt to stand, but plop down on the bed with a pained look on her face. Her head hurt so damn much!
“Ow.”
“Time to rise and shine, miss. Everythin’ alright? Any doubts?” His grin widened as he sat down by her side. “You suddenly regret bangin’ this old codger?”
“… no. That was nice, actually.” She stretched lazily, almost feline. “How about you? Wish you were less drunk and had noticed how thick of thighs and hips I am? My terrible nose, maybe?”
“Ain’t nothing wrong with your thighs or nose, don’t be silly. Didn’t mind your hips either”, he said with a wink, pinching her backside and groping her once more. She had to squirm to get away from him, laughing to herself, and he joined in soon. “Remember that favor I asked from you?”
“Yes. Golden ring with two sapphires and one moonstone in the middle, belonging to a certain… Nivenor? Wood elf. Snobby.”
“That’s right. She’ll be carryin’ it to Madesi at the marketplace today, to have one of the stones replaced. You know what to do.”
“And then we can talk about my dwemer blade…”
“Then we can talk about your dwemer blade, yes. Now take your time.”
He left her, and she didn’t mind that. She’d never been one for cuddling after a good fuck, whether or not it was a one night stand. Now it was just a matter of relieving a rich woman of some weight she couldn’t possibly need, and she’d find out whether their agreement would be of any help to her in recovering Keening.
Hunter and Moon [1/?]
Date: 2014-09-18 10:43 pm (UTC)-----
Felyse hated Windhelm. It smelled vile when the wind blew in the wrong direction, it snowed all the time, and of course being a Dunmer in a notoriously intolerant hellhole wasn't fun either. And it was cold. Still, that was nothing a cup of sujamma wouldn't fix, particularly if she had somebody to brag to at the same time. She shouldered her way into the warmth of the cornerclub, exchanging nods with a would-be bard plinking out Cliffracer's Bane with somewhat more enthusiasm than skill. And oh, that was a new face...
Ambarys didn't have much to say, for once. “Relynan? I think he's a mercenary. Shows up for a week or so every few months, then he's off again. But he keeps to himself and pays his tab, so I don't pry. Anyway, what can I get you?” Felyse paid for her drink and wandered through the trickle of patrons to where the singer had moved on to appreciating a bottle of flin. He didn't look like a sellsword, but the good ones tended not to when they weren't soliciting.
“You want company?” He looked up in surprise for a moment before a faint smile crossed his face.
“That depends on the company. And who am I speaking to, given I saw you winkling information from Ambarys?”
Mmm. If that wasn't a pure Morrowind voice, she'd eat the next dragon she ran into. Unless it was Paarthurnax.
“Name's Felyse, and I'm guessing you're Relynan. Just thought you'd want someone to compare scars with. Maybe you know about a ruin I haven't cleared yet.” There. That should make it clear what she wanted for the next hour, and maybe the night would take care of itself.
“Unfortunately, I clear out most of the ruins I go through. The barrows should still be teeming, though – I never want to see another draugr if I can help it.”
Felyse grinned and folded herself into the table's other seat. “The last barrow I went through had four wights all trying to Shout me through the walls at once. That was not fun. Then again, I picked up some fantastic loot, so,” she shrugged and took a sip, “it all evens out.”
The other elf raised his cup and looked at her steadily over the rim. “True enough. The best set of armour I've ever owned was found through dungeon crawling. Swords, too.” His other hand dipped to where a curved blade wrapped in oilskin hung on his belt. “It's just a shame the woman who sent me after them then tried to kill me.” Something dark and grieving flickered across his expression.
“I know how that feels,” Felyse volunteered. “There's always someone who thinks they can kill you instead of paying, never mind you just killed a dragon in front of them.” She reconsidered.”Actually, make that one dragon every few hours. It gets tedious. Like killing cliff racers used to be.” That was what her mother had told her, anyway.
Relynan huffed in amusement. “In some ways, cliff racers were worse than dragons. You'd take a step outside, say, Balmora, and the sky would be black with the s'wit from horizon to horizon. At least dragons don't flock.” Wait. How did he know how dragons fought? And he didn't look old enough to remember when cliff racers had been a real problem, either.
“Usually.” He looked sceptical. “No, really. I was sent after one lairing out Riften way and it called in friends. I was lucky - there was an old mine nearby, so I hid there and stabbed them every time they landed to burn me out.” He laughed quietly and mirthlessly, in a way that set her bristling. “What?”
“Ten years ago, I thought Alduin was a metaphor. Now I know he isn't – and the dragons he brought with him aren't the mortal ones of the last eras. Metaphors aren't supposed to flap around killing things!” Now he was beginning to tick Felyse off.
“What do you mean, metaphor?” When had her cup emptied? He leant across the table to fill her cup from his bottle, pausing for a moment to drum his fingers in thought.
Re: Hunter and Moon [2/?]
Date: 2014-09-18 10:45 pm (UTC)“Fair enough. You've been cagey enough for two anyway.”
Relynan smiled. “In any case, I should really find a bed for the night. I have business in Winterhold that really can't wait.”
He rose to his feet. “Incidentally, Dragonborn? The woman I mentioned, who tried to kill me over a sword – her name was Almalexia.”
Re: Hunter and Moon [2/?]
Date: 2014-09-21 01:55 pm (UTC)Could you please post a list of your tags for this fill? Thank you! :)
Re: Hunter and Moon [2/?]
Date: 2014-09-21 09:19 pm (UTC)Re: Hunter and Moon [3/?], tags
Date: 2015-02-26 04:51 pm (UTC)[tags: char:nerevarine, char:f!db, race:dunmer, relationship:gen, es:skyrim]
-----
They met again, three weeks later on the road to Solitude.
Relyn – not Relynan, never in his own head – took a careful step towards the bandits attempting to hold him at swordpoint.
“Stay right where you are, greyskin!” the leader ordered, in a way that might have been intimidating had he been addressing anyone else. Some things really never changed.
Relyn spread empty hands. “Whyever should I? A lone traveller isn't going to carry anything that valuable unless he's very dangerous himself. Either way, I'm hardly worth your time.” He took another step, expression cold. “What is it going to be, muthsera?”
The mob actually looked to be considering his words. Then the arrow came from nowhere and took one of them in the throat.
So much for talking things out. A pulse of magicka to his belt summoned the reassuring weight of bound armour, and then it was a simple matter to lose himself in steel and spell. Not for long enough, however – the last bandit fled within minutes, leaving Relyn surrounded by the dead. He turned towards the treeline. “You may as well come out, whoever you are.”
Vegetation moved aside to reveal the Dunmer girl from Windhelm, clad in dark leathers and clutching a bow. She snapped off a shot at the running bandit before turning to look at him with an expression torn between anger and embarrassment.
“Looks like you didn't need my help. At all. Sorry?”
“Not as such. Not that it wasn't appreciated, though.” Actually, he was a touch annoyed that she'd caused the fight instead of waiting for it to begin, but there was no need to tell her that. She'd learn eventually. And then, as if the day wasn't bad enough already, from overhead came the thunder of leathern wings.
Two hours later saw the pair of them making camp in his erstwhile attackers' hideout. Relyn made use of their cooking pot while Felyse performed the grand tradition of all lone adventurers: divesting the dead of all their worldly possessions.
“Is that really necessary?” Relyn said, looking up as she removed an ill-kept iron cuirass from its owner. He did his best to quash the treacherous thought that he would have done the same, two hundred years ago. Had done the same. The words of oaths long broken crept unbidden into his head.
She grinned, eyes bright and faintly manic. “Maybe not, but that's half the fun. Dwarven ruins might pay better than bandit caves, but they're a nightmare to get through.” She paused, suddenly uncertain. “I... guess you know that already, huh?” The grin moved back into place. “What're you making? It looks vile.”
“You weren't anywhere so jittery the last time we met,” he said mildly, taking a spoonful of the culinary-disgrace-in-progress. Ugh. It seemed that nothing could make whitecaps taste edible. Or possibly he was just that bad a cook.
“I didn't know who you were, then.”
So that was it. Relyn closed his eyes, fighting back memories of a time and place long gone. She didn't notice.
“Why haven't you told people who you are? There's plenty of Dunmer talk about the old days, they'd follow you -”
“So I can lead them to ruin, too?” It came out sharper than he intended, almost a shout. Felyse narrowed her eyes at him.
“What are you talking about?”
Re: Hunter and Moon [4/?]
Date: 2015-02-26 04:52 pm (UTC)“To defeat Dagoth Ur, I had to break the source of his power,” he said, voice low and flat. “It was one of the cornerstones of reality, and destroying it broke the Tribunal's power as well. Dagon's armies invaded, and I wasn't there. Lie Rock fell, and I wasn't there. I was needed, and I wasn't there...” His voice dropped, barely noticing the spoon bending in his grip. “How can I face the Dunmer after that?”
...I swear before all gods and men, before all spirits, visible and invisible, before your honour and my own...
Felyse fell silent, taking the spoon from his hand to give the glop in the cooking pot another cursory stir. Then she said, ”You are really overdramatic, you know that?”
“I was under oath, Dragonborn. Just as you are. I fulfilled the first half, but I couldn't have stuffed the second half harder if I tried.” He was being childish, he knew, but it had been entirely too long since he'd had a good old-fashioned snit.
“Would it kill you to use my name?” She glared in his general direction. “If I'm the Dragonborn, you don't get to not be the Nerevarine.”
A startled laugh forced its way out, and he shook his head ruefully. She was right, even if he didn't want her to be. ...But maybe it's time for a change. Time for something young and new... maybe young folks like you should try some new ideas...
Well. Things had certainly changed. Time for new ideas.