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Skyrim Page 5 - "NAKED! Naked naked naked "

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“Bring me some potions,” he commanded, walking past them to his personal tent. “A soldier is hurt.”

She hid her eyes when he said it and the men stood in place for a moment before dispersing, one grabbing a few potions while the others went back to pretending to work. Fasendil sighed and stepped into his tent, placing her gently on his bed. The whispers of his men drifted to his ears.

“What soldier? Who is that?”

“She isn’t wearing our uniforms. How does the boss know she’s one of us?”

“Somethin’ ain’t right.”

“Quiet! He’s looking this way!”

Fasendil glared at his men until one came forward with a large red bottle. He took it from him and dismissed the soldier before sitting on the side of the bed and handing it to Sadaoni. She took it with a delicate grip and struggled to get the top off before he reached over and did it.

“T-Thank you,” she softly said as she began to drink and he watched her, his eyes going to the wound. Her breathing stopped being so harsh once she had swallowed a small portion of it and when she had consumed past the halfway point, her body relaxed and she no longer seemed so bothered by the pain. It took her a few more tries to drink right to the bottom but once she had she seemed as if she had never been harmed at all.

He reached down to her side, feeling it and his fingers brushed against a foreign object. He pulled it and out came the broken end of an arrow, her skin closing up where it had been. He held it for her to see and she sighed, taking it from him. “I guess one of them had a better aim than I gave them credit for.”

He only stared at her and she shifted uncomfortably on his bed.

“Sadaoni, what are you doing out here?” he asked again. She rolled the arrowhead between her fingers, avoiding the question. “Why did you shoot at me? Why are you in this strange gear? Where’s Legate Rikke?”

“I didn’t mean to,” she breathed out. “I… didn’t recognize you. I thought you were a bandit who stole our Legion’s gear.”

He pressed his lips together. He recalled hearing about things like that on the roads. It disgusted him that there were criminals killing their men and exploiting travelers with such rouses but he had no way to control it. “Sadaoni, what are you doing out here?”

“Rikke is at Castle Dour,” she finally said, answering his previous question and ignoring his once again repeated one. “General Tullius decided not to take the Rift.”

Fasendil frowned. “Why not?”

She sighed. “Too few men right now, not enough funds, take your pick,” she said quietly. “He’s focused on Winterhold right now before taking something as large as the Rift. Thinks it will come in handy if Ulfric moves North.”

Fasendil said nothing but he contemplated what she said. They had taken Dawnstar months before as he recalled. A heroic effort which had cost the Empire more soldiers than they anticipated but it was secured for them now. He could almost feeling the Thalmor laughing from the shadows over it and he reached up and rubbed his temples. The General was probably right in his insight; taking the Rift now would be disastrous and helping the Thalmor and their dirty plans further than needed.

It still didn’t answer his question. “What are you doing here, Sadaoni?” There was a long stretch of silence between them and she placed the arrowhead on his bedside table before she attempted to get up. “Sadaoni!”

She stopped but she refused to meet his eyes. He found his heart sinking and he had to ask. “Have they expelled you from the Legion?”

Her head snapped up in almost horror. “No!”

He relaxed. That was a relief. “Then where is your armor?”

She gave him a defiant look before her shoulders fell and she looked to the boards covering the ground. “I don’t like it. I cannot move with it on so I am wearing the armor I need,” she said. “I have not been given orders to be deployed yet so I am allowed to do whatever business I wish until I am. Does that satisfy your curiosity?”

“No,” he admitted. “But it will do.”

She didn’t seem pleased by his response.

“I’m worried about you,” he commented and he watched her blush, her hands tightening on his bed. He flushed himself. “N-Not… like that. I worry about all people of the Empire, especially those giving their lives to it. You mean more right now because-”

“I’m the dragonborn?” she interrupted in a bitter voice.

“Because you’re in odd armor chasing bandits and got hurt in doing so,” he cut in himself, offended she would even think such a thing. Her red eyes moved to see his and he gave her a sincere look. “Honestly, Sadaoni. What were you thinking? What if I didn’t come and you got worse?”

She was silent for a moment, her eyes still searching his before she got up off the bed and stood before him, her frame so small and petite compared to his. He heard the sounds of the Quartermaster stop hammering and he looked out towards his men who were all staring in anticipation. He felt his cheek twitch and he was about to yell at them when her soft fingers cupped his cheek and made him turn back.

She kissed him and he felt his heart stop. The sounds of his men gasping didn’t help either.

She pulled away, giving him a kind look before moving to leave, pulling out her hood as she did. “You’re a good Altmer, Fasendil. Not like some who I have met. I will see you when my orders are given to take the Rift. Please, take care of yourself until then.”

He continued to stare at the wall of his tent, his ears burning and his voice lost but he snapped back to reality and got up, ready to chase after her. She swiftly crossed the camp, ignoring the men and was already disappearing into the darkness of the forest beyond the clearing before he could even reach the edge of the barricade. He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably as he did, confused on what had just transpired.

She didn’t even answer his questions properly, just gave him more to ask if they ever met up again. He turned to see his soldiers staring at him, some giving him a goofy grin and others solemn, nodding once in approval. His thoughts of her disappeared in his mind. “What are you all doing!? Get to work! I expect all of you to be in perfect battle form for tomorrow as you’re all performing a mock battle!”

They all stiffened, some groaning but they scattered like ants, going back to work and he found himself going to the Quartermaster who was hammering the same piece of steel he was earlier, his lips pressed together tight.

“Saul,” the Quartermaster looked up but did not speak. “Have you ever seen armor like that?”

He stopped hammering and contemplated it, quiet as he did before he shook his head. “Never before, Legate. But I’m only well versed in Imperial armor and some lower forms of smithing such as leather and hide.”

Fasendil sighed.

“But… there are rumors,” the Quartermaster said as he took the piece of steel and turned it over, his fingers running over the imperfections that littered the rough blade. “Of armor black as night. It is not made from ebony nor daedric but of material light as a feather and dark as a winter sky. Enchanted by Nocturnal and given to her protectors.”

He stepped forward, interested. “Protectors?”

“The Nightingales.”

--

I'm going to fill this, but it might take me a few days due to other obligations. I do have a question for the OP - if things get smutty, what do you prefer? Het or slash or no preference? :)

Not OP, but I needed this like air.

Let's bring down the gauntlet of pain here. Say our Dragonborn/PC/NPC, whichever is in a brutal fight and for once, a healing potion and a sack of flour doesn't cure them. They're bedridden and in pain.

How does the rest deal with it? Their companion/follower/husband/wife/children/dog? If it's a Thane, how does the Jarl and court react to their wounded appointed hero? What about the Thieves Guild or Dark Brotherhood or other guilds? If their Guild Master is down, do they all steal/buy every medical item they can find to cure them or torture them from afar since they can't move?

Crack or drama, you can pick. No restrictions on race or gender but if it leads to smut then I ask no bathroom, bloodplay or beasts.

Hi y'all!
What I've never seen so far on here is the Dragonborn's backstory before discovering they're Dragonborn and visit Skyrim.
I want the personal thoughts and opinions of the Dragonbrin's parent(s).
Such as I want to read their letters to their son/daughter.
Are they proud of their child being a part of an Elder Scroll foretold legend, saviour of Tamerial and such?
Do they eventually visit their child?
Are they happy about their (optional) son/daughter-in-law and/or grandchildren?

Just give me the family love and/ or angst of the Dragonborn's parent(s) and possible siblings.
This can be used for the N!PCs as well - Teldryn (DB), Celann (Dawnguard), Athis, Aela the Huntress, Mjoll the Lioness, the Housecarls, Brelyna, Scouts-Many-Marshes, Shavee, Aicantar, Ralof and others.

Have fun~

I'm envisioning a Dragonborn in full Daedric armor just wandering into a camp after a big dragon fight, sitting down and asking for a cup of water. Nobody is stupid enough to fuck with the blood drenched spiky dude.

What's the injury? An arrow to the knee, of course.

Tags: F!DB, Marcurio, het
Kinks: none
note: this is really lame and short and was written quickly and dumbly
------------
“Hey, dear?” Neliel had asked Marcurio.

“Yes?” He asked back, and looked up from his book to his wife.

“Do you remember the first time we meant?” She asked with a smile.

Marcurio leaned back in his chair and thought. Did he remember the first time they had met?

Did he remember that when she walked into the Bee and Barb Inn he almost choked on his drink because of how beautiful she was? Did he remember thinking over the first thing he was going to say to her (which took five minutes plus another twenty to work up the courage, only to have to wait another twenty because she had begun talking to Talen-Jei.)

Did he remember the way her blue eyes engulfed him when he did finally walk up to her? How he felt like he would drown if he held eye contact for too long because oh my god they were unnaturally blue but Oblivion if they weren’t amazing.

Did he remember being a stuttering mess and forgetting what he was going to say (even though he repeated it over and over again in his head for nearly fifty minutes.)? Or how he lamely said “hi” and put his hand out for a handshake that must have been awkwardly stiff.

Did he remember how she just smiled and actually started the conversation, ignoring how he held on to her hand a bit longer than she did to his? Or how he continued to give crappy one worded answers that killed whatever topic they were on (even though he so desperately wanted to keep talking but just couldn’t get the words to come out)?

And did he remember being so disappointed when she stood and said she had to go on some quest to collect a bunch of Nirnroot? He defiantly knows how excited he was when she asked him if he wanted to come with, saying it might be more fun if there was someone else there to hold back mudcrabs as the other grabbed the plant and ran. And how they laughed because one of them caught Marcurio’s sword in its claws and wouldn’t let go even as it was lifted in the air. And how they sat by a fire when it got too late to go back up to the city and just decided to camp outside that night. And how they laughed over stupid stories about themselves as they looked up at the stars.

“Marcurio, do you?” Neliel asked and nudged his arm.

Blinking away the memory, Marcurio looked back up at her and shrugged.

“No, not really.”

Can't wait for more!

Uh yeah, sure there Anon.

Tittle: An Actual Arrow This Time
Tags: [tags: char:F!DB, race:Bosmer, char:Erandur, race:Dunmer ]

"You know that the 'arrow to the knee' thing is just an expression, right?" it was one of those days where Erandur asked himself if helping the dragonborn was someway to redeem himself.

"It doesn't feel like it!" the same woman who took down a dragon almost by herself was at the floor now, circled by dead bandits. clutching her knee while crying. It wasn't a pretty sight. "Erandur!"

Sighing in defeat, he made his way to the bloody mess that surrounded the dragonborn, misstepping the discarded shield of a bandit or a sword of another. But he could already tell that it would take more than a spell to fix it. His hands glowed with a yellow light before the light engulfed them both. It was a bit of a waste of magic, but he didn't know a powerful spell that had a more concentrate range. Still, the skin was beginning to close around the arrow, so he moved his hand and pulled it out, only to have Desna scream and kick her good leg in his general direction.

"Stop that, Desna, you'll need more care that I can provide and-"

"I don't even know why I keep you around!" her words would make much more impact if her all crying hadn't given her a running nose. So the priestess of Mara just ignore it and move to pick her up. Luckily enough, they were near Whiterun, he could always take her to Temple of Kynareth and spoon feed her with plenty of potions for a week. She'd be good in no time.

-

They've (only him actually) been walking for some minutes now, he could see the hold now. In fact, they were going faster with him caring her, than their usual pace, where she'd stop every 10 seconds to pick up a butterfly or some tundra cotton.

"Erandur?" she seamed to calm down after blowing her nose on his robes a couple of times, said it was because he owned her that after he pulled out the arrow, but Erandur was no fool and he could see the silly grin on her face whenever she made his robe dirtier that it originally was.

"Yes, sera" it was her luck that he was with her that day, he had to finish of some bandits that surrounded her. She probably would shout them away, or stick her dagger in their legs, she could defend herself. But she would still need some help to get to safety, and she was horrible at healing spells.

"What do you mean about the 'arrow to the knee' that the guards say all the time?" he didn't think she would have remembered the comment he made, but he was so exasperated with her absurd injury that it just slipped. Oh well, the least he could do was sate her curiosity.

"It means marriage, all those guards were telling you that they used to be adventurers before they got married."

"That's a silly way of saying it" he couldn't hell but agree, but he let her to her grumbles of silly Nords and their silly traditions, and choose to say his prayers on his mind. It was the least he could do, thanking Mara for staying that arrow and not allowing it to pierce a more deadly pace on his charge, and the fact that the dragonborn was just a Bosmer and not a Nord, because he didn't think he'd be able to carry her if she was bigger than she was.

"Erandur?" Desna pulled him out of his prayers, right before he shifter her in his arms and took notice that they were almost at the Whiterun stables now.

"Will you keep secret that I cried?"

"Always, sera"

[I think this isn't wasn't what op really wanted, but I couldn't help it after I read that comment. Plus, I can always try to write something with Erandur taking care of a bedridden dragonborn after wards, if op feels like it]

I usually write my M!Bosmer Lendri with Teldryn, would you mind if it's not letters but a meet the family kind of thing? Like they meet in person.

OP here! Thank you, thank you, thank you! And take as much time as you need

Oh man, I really hope someone picks this up. I played as a F!Orc, myself, so this is right down my alley :)

So that post from earlier got me thinking about some Skyrim NPC's that I think are seriously sweet/ attractive but are underloved. Mainly Gwilin and Ulundil. Both of them are such sweethearts and have a really refreshing outlook on life in the middle of all the "death or sovngarde!" Nonsense. So really, I just want fills with these two where they get some love. (And yes I'm aware Ulundil has a wife. But I always kind of felt bad for him anyway because all she ever does is gripe about him liking horses and occasionally calls him boring) In any case! Fills could include both these guys (maybe put them together for some crack?) Or you can pair them with another NPC or an OC. Or maybe you can get me to like Arivanya. Honestly as long as it includes one or both of these two I will be happy.

I have no gender or race preference for pairings.
Can be really fluffy, smutty or a mix of both.
My only serious squick is non-con.

We've all seen the sweetroll comments in regards to Cicero. I'd like to see a crack fill of Cicero alone in Cheydinhal. He's been by himself for a few years and it's been hard, but he's holding together.

One day he's baking sweetrolls to help pass the time and suddenly he can't take it any more! He's horny as hell and damn doesn't that sweetroll look tasty! Our poor jester ends up fucking the sweetroll much like the main character fucks that pie in American Pie.

Can any anon help give some icing to our dessert? =D

Kinks: Crack, Cicero shamefully confessing to the Night Mother and saying something along the lines, "We're never going to talk about this, hmm?"

Squicks: Bathroom stuff, gore, the usual no-nos.

I would be really interested in doing a fill with my Dragonborn. I hope multi fills and mini fills are okay.

char:F!PC race:dunmer
(Inspirational songs!)

The events of the last few days floated through Hekivah's mind, vague and disconnected from the harsh reality of her life. She laughed, trying to wave away these visions as she lifted the bottle to her lips again. It was a dream, nothing more. Perhaps she had fallen prey to the traditional drug of the Khajiit, or some other flavor of debauchery. It mattered not.

Her fingers twinged where they were pressed against the cold glass of the bottle. Her fingernails were broken and bloody, and her slim fingers laced with cuts and scrapes, countless in number.

Once upon a time it would have bothered her, disrupted that careful grace that she had worked so hard to perfect. She had been a woman of many faces, personalities she took up and then abandoned, but her hands had always been nimble, in the best condition to lift some important missive or goldpurse.

Now she only wore her own face, the face of a betrayer, and her hands were still bloody.

Hekivah scrubbed the dirt and gore from them before she had even bought the supply of wine she was working her way through, but the scrapes and cuts had bled, replacing Draugr slime and dragon's blood with her own blood.

She shook her head, taking another long drink and staring up at the ceiling of the inn. There they were again, those torturous illusions. They were punishments from Vaermina, they must be...

That rational part of her that remained when her other skills had faded told her that she was only trying to hide in delusions. If the events of the past days were nothing but the toyings of a Daedra, than she wouldn't have to face the terrifying clarity she had found.

Hekivah had been trembling, standing before the Barrow, her head still spinning from her flight from Helgen, as she tried to remember what foolish oath she had made to the lord of Whiterun.

Suddenly she had realized that there was a dagger in her hand, and her lips were moving in an instinctive prayer to Azura.

She had fought her way out of the keep in Helgen, fought in the wild, vicious style of a wounded predator, cornered and desperate. The desire to survive then hadn't been conscious- only pure animal instinct had been on her side.

Standing before the Barrow, with the wind shaking away her stupor, she had forgot she ever left Highrock, forgot her disgrace. The dagger had fit well in her hand, and her steps had been silent as she crept up behind the bandits.

Later, firing clumsily at the beast in the sky, utterly out of her element, she had lost herself in the pure, wild joy of the fight. Something within her had stirred and come to life, roaring in response to the other dragon's flames.

Delusions. That was all they were. Hekivah could feel the lie slipping through her fingers, and tried to drown the moment of realization with another mouthful of wine.

The wild thing within her snarled, snapping its jaws and roaring its disapproval.

A strain of a song drifted up from the main room of the inn below, just loud enough to be heard over the din.

Beware, beware, the Dragonborn comes...

The word sparked in her memory, burning away for moment the haze of alcohol that had settled over her thoughts. The raw power she had felt as the dragon burned away to bones before her, its being flowing into her. Part of her felt triumph, to see this weak kinsman brought down before her as his power was added to her own.

The feeling had not been her own, but refused to be swept away by the terror that hit her after the fight was over and the realization of what she was done came over her. She certainly hadn't been the one who brought down the dragon. She'd hit it a few times at most, with her rusty bow skills and trembling hands. But they had hailed her as a hero all the same.

And the voices had called her name from the mountain...

No, no, it was not her name. Her name was Hekivah, and she was a Dunmer born of Highrock, a traitor and a drunk. Dragons only lived in stories told to children.

After a few more bottles of wine, the wild thing was quiet. Or perhaps she was just too numb to feel it raging against her ribs.

Seconnded!!!

Ooh...very evocative. Intrigued to see where this is going. Can't wait to see more. :)

I don't know about you guys but ended up adopting two children way before my DB ever got married, which means that for most the game, my children were essentially home alone with no one to look after them except which ever house-carl was assigned to whatever home I had them living at the time, and I always kind of wondered...what do they do when Mommy/Daddy is away on adventures? Does my house carl ignore them or is he/she now taking on the unexpected duty of watching my children? Technically, they did all swear to guard my DB and all that she/he owns, so does that include my little ones? That's a tough gig, especially with the two of them fighting, bringing home pets, getting into the kinds of trouble kids normally do and probably some extra shit as well if they found any of mommys/daddys souvenirs from my DB's many travels. Have they bonded? Are they ever sad when I move the kids to a new home and they become another carl's responsibility? Are they relieved when their Thane FINALLY gets hitched and another pair of hands moves in, one who is actually expected to help with the children specifically? What about one of the homes my DB built themselves and is thus staffed with other people, do they help at all?

I CANT BE THE ONLY ONE WONDERING THIS!

I'm loving the story - so funny, but wouldn't the people at the mills be lumberjacks or loggers? Millers mill grain, so I keep getting confused when I read it, I thought maybe I'd missed something.

This has been an idea that's been floating around my head for quite some time. The worlds of Westeros and Skyrim are about level as far as time period and technological advancement go--with some obvious exceptions.

My prompt is thus: instead of sending the last Targaryen's across one sea, they were sent across the ocean/to another world (filler's choice, totally). I always thought that it would be poetically just for one of the last dragon's to be the last Dragonborn. Brownie points for being haunted by the ghost of some relative (Aerys II aka the Mad King or Rhaegar).

Prefer OFC to be female (sorry, no Dany as I just cannot see her killing a dragon or going after Miraak).

Kinks are wide open as this could range from a simple oneshot to something epically huge. Multifills are encouraged as always.

AU...kinda So fDB has been proving herself to be quite the assassin lately as the new recruit that joined the Dawnstar Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary.

Unfortunately lately the Dragonborn seem's to have gone missing for a good few week's after either Nazir or the Listener handed out some contract's to her which required her to assasinate rather important people for someone like Maven Black Briar for example who has been hounding the Dark Brotherhood recently and threatening to alert the authorities where their Sanctuary is if they dont hurry up and get to work.

The Dragonborn finally return's to the Sanctuary with her recent follower Serana and worse yet she completely forgot about the contract's she was given as she had wound up getting involved in the Dawnguard questline and sided with the vampire's and was finally able to get the other vampires in Harkon's court to finally accept her and Serana as their leader's.

Needless to say mListener is pissed and orders Nazir and the random male Dark Brotherhood initiates to tie up the two women and gangbang the hell out of them.

At the end fDB and Serana are covered head to toe in cum.

FDB can be any race except Orc,Argonian or Khajiit

MListener can be any race so long as he joins in fucking one or both of the girl's

+Serana and fDB wind up enjoying being ganbangd and become the Brotherhood's resident whore's who wind up wearing rather skimpy Dark Brotherhood armour.

+one or more of the guy's end's up fucking Serana's glorious tit's.

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