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Skyrim Page 5 - "NAKED! Naked naked naked "

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I would love a prompt about an M!Bosmer DB with a lot of tribal tattoos and body piercings. And he ends up partly unclothed, in front of a really typical Skyrim Nord ( For example, Farkas, Ralof, Roggi Knotbeard, Ulfric) and the Nord has never seen anything like it, is absolutely fascinated, wants to see them all, and touch him all over. Cue the sex!

Partly clothed in front of Ulfric gives an interesting possibility that Ulfric's been fascinated by the memory of him ever since Helgen...

Kinks: Oral, kissing, licking, biting, hair pulling

Squicks: bathroomy things, blood, death, non-con

Oh yes please! What a fantastic prompt.
I *do* have an idea in mind, but have a lot of other fills on right now. Hopefully a nonny with more time will snap this up!

Incredibly hot - do want!!

OAO This sounds amazing!! Would love to see it filled.

Just wanted to say that I've started on this today, and I'm really loving writing this. I hope I do it justice!

(Are dreadlocks okay by the way, OP?)

Dreadlocks are just fine--really, the wilder the Bosmer is (I'm assuming these are the Bosmer's dreads) the better!

Yep - I've had this Bosmer dancing through my head since I saw this prompt, all ink and metal and dreadlocks.

I'm filling with Ulfric too, just noticed the other nonny - hope you don't mind two Ulfric fills? :3

Other A!anon is interested in seeing this happen, and crossing my fingers that they're different enough but within the range our lovely prompter would like. :D

Tags: char:Ulfric kink:tattoos kink:piercings kink:oral

"Come in, Jarl Ulfric."

Ulfric opened the tent flap, stepping in, and was plunged into near darkness as it fell shut behind him. Momentarily he was struck blind, waiting for his eyes to adjust. "I would speak with you, Dragonborn, on the eve of this great battle."

"What do you wish to discuss? Come closer, once I have finished this I will offer you a drink." This? "It must be important if you have left your final preparations."

As the Dragonborn spoke Ulfric became aware of details. The only light came from a lone candle at bedside, and distorted shadows were thrown across the walls of the tent. He could see the other man sat cross legged on the ground, back to Ulfric. His dark dreadlocks, usually tumbling down across his shoulders, were bound up in a bundle atop his head, exposing his bare skin - the light playing across it in the strangest way.

"I- I simply wished to speak with you, to ensure you yourself are prepared." In truth he had been out surveying the camp when his path had led him to the Dragonborn's tent; he hadn't even considered why.

"Oh? How disappointing." The Dragonborn, Faldil, glanced over his shoulder. This exposed the tip of a pointed ear, a row of gold rings jingling together as he moved, and the trio of scars across a cheek. "Now, come sit with me. I have nearly finished bathing."

Ah, so that's what he was doing. Ulfric moved closer and could see that he was indeed bathing, sat with a cloth and a bowl of scented water. He could see the sheen of water across his skin, and something that gave him pause. What had previously looked like a strange play of light was now revealed to be the Bosmer's skin, or at least the markings.

Swirling thick, dark lines covered the entire expanse of Faldil's back, trailing across his shoulders and neck, disappearing into his hairline. They wound around each other, sometimes forming definable shapes, and others appeared to Ulfric as pure chaos. His eyes followed a line curving along Faldil's shoulder blade, as it travelled down his back and formed a spiral, partially hidden by his waistband - unbidden, the thought to follow it's journey with his tongue crossed his mind, and his breeches tightened.

He had long been intrigued by the elf, who was a rare fruit in the land of snow, and here he was, half naked and so much more... wild than Ulfric could have imagined. He did not often have men, but the chance to bed such an exotic creature was not one to be missed. His decision was instantaneous, and he dropped to his knees beside the other man.

When their lips met there was nothing gentle to it. It was bruising and rough, teeth and tongues, and Ulfric pulled Faldil tight against him, hands sliding down his back to grasp his backside. The elf's hands tensed against his shoulders momentarily, before running up and winding into that pale hair. Fingertips massaged his scalp lightly, sending shivers down Ulfric's spine.

Ulfric led a trail of kisses across the elf's cheek, grazing his teeth along his jaw. "I said that I wished to speak, Dragonborn, but in truth I intend to make you mine."

The hand in Ulfric's hair tightened suddenly, grasping a fistful and pulling Ulfric's head back to meet his eyes, momentarily startled by the Nord's look, much like the Khajiit that got the cream. He was getting off on the rough treatment!

"What makes you think it won't be the other way around?" Faldil's voice was breathy, but his expression spoke volumes. He lowered his head to nuzzle the Nord's neck, exposed by the angle his head was held at, and pressed a kiss to the fair skin. Another kiss. Then came the tongue, and teeth, and sharp pleasure as Faldil worked the skin there. Marking him, Ulfric realised, and nearly came then and there.

Satisfied with his work the elf rose to his feet, silhouetted by the candle light, and trailed fingertips along the kneeling Nord's cheek. "Are you afraid, my jarl?"

It took a moment for the question to break through the dizzying haze of arousal, and Ulfric frowned when it did. "Afraid of tomorrow's battle? Or... you?"

"Of me, of this." Sliding one hand back into Ulfric's hair Faldil deftly untied his breeches with the other, allowing his length to bounce free and brush across Ulfric's lips. The black designs across his body did not travel so far, but instead - the realisation sent a shiver through Ulfric - he wore a gold ring through the bulbous head. Faldil asserted gentle pressure to the back of Ulfric's head, urging him to take it into his mouth.

Ulfric parted his lips and trailed a tentative lick across the elf's penis, flicking at the ring. Rewarded by a hiss and the grip on his hair tightening, he wound his tongue around it sucking at the metal gently, and began to manage the rest of the length with his hands. The scent was heady. Massaging the sack in his hand he looked up watching, listening, as the Dragonborn started to come unfurled under the ministrations of his mouth and hands.

Faldil locked his knees, fingers in Ulfric's hair becoming painful as he came with a sudden mute cry. Head held immobile, the jarl had no choice but to take what was given. He swirled his tongue around the head, cleaning up any leftover fluid, until the elf used the grip on his hair to stop him.

"On the bedroll, Jarl Ulfric. I'm not finished with you."

*swoons* I thought I'd check this before work, and I'm so glad I did! Really liking where this is going A!anon! Faldil is one sexy beast!

I'm glad you enjoyed it, OP!
I wasn't actually sure whether to continue, mostly as I'm really busy for a while now and just wanted to get it out there. If you like it I'm happy to keep writing though, when I get the chance... :3

Oh my.

Do keep going!

>3< Loving this A!Anon! Can't wait for more.

Hot hot hot as hell. And I personally really dig that it's explicitly consensual. Good job, OP! I'd be very happy if you wanted to continue it, but I think what you've written so far stands on its own, as well. Thank you for sharing!

Hmmmm. This anon would LOVE to do this, especially with Ulfric. I'm hoping that since you mentioned him, you don't mind him being the specific Nord. ;)

I wouldn't mind Ulfric--he's an complex character and it would create an interesting power dynamic as well.

Love the prompt and everything, but I'm breaking my head trying to figure out how you did the winky face? Care to share!?!?! :D I would love you, OP. I would love you so hard.

It's on the right of the subject line box. It's light gray so it's difficult to notice, but when you click on it there's a few different types of faces.

Ulfirc's attention, which had been fully on Galmar only moments before, was now divided. He found himself watching the door to his hall whenever it opened. He knew it bordered on paranoia but it was sound. He had been caught once already for the death of the High King and espcaed the headman's blade. He wouldn't put it past the Empire nor the Aldmeri Dominion to send an assassin into his city.

A cloaked form slipped into the hall and Ulfric felt a surge of almost animalistic fear. The person had a bow on their back which would give them the upper hand. That fear, though, quickly melted away as two Nords trailed in behind, both clad in the colors of the Stormcloaks. He recognized one of them. A man by the name of Ralof, one of the few survivors of the Helgen attack.

Ulfric let his eyes linger for moment before they began to drift back to Galmar. The cloaked person removed their hood, drawing Ulfric's eye once more as he heard greetings from a few of the men wandering past. The stranger that was followed by Ralof was a Bosmer, a man's whose face was lined with red paint. The elf laughed, his voice echoing through the hall and the paint around his eyes tightening with his smile and the red streaks along his lower lip distorting.

'I know this man,' Ulfric thought, shifting in his throne. He rested his chin on a fisted hand and continued to study the elf. The Bosmer stood shorter than the Nords that surrounded him, his skin a dusky hue, and his hair light brown hair rested at his shoulders, unkempt and partially held back by some leather. The facial hair surprised Ulfric, realizing that most elves he ever saw preferred to be clean shaven. Any doubt of who this elf was culminated into a sound memory as he turned his head to speak with Ralof.

Silver rings and studs ran up the length of the Bosmer's right ear, catching the light as he talked rather animatedly. Ulfric knew now where he had seen the man. The Bosmer had been in Helgen, the only one who wasn't part of the Stormcloaks heading for an execution. Ralof had helped him, pulled him into the tower they had ran to as the dragon rained fire on the town. The elf had had other piercings when Ulfric first saw him. There had been two studs just below the elf's lower lip as well as studs on either side of the bridge of his nose.

Such a sight had caused Ulfric to stare at the elf, longer than he should have. He had received a venomous glare but nothing more. After watching Ralof lead the Bosmer away he hadn't expected to see him again. The Nord had returned a week or two after the attack and had explained that he was indebted to the elf for saving his life. Ulfric thought nothing more. He was an elf and only the gods knew why he had been picked up by the Empire.

"Ulfric?"

Hearing his name caused Ulfric to quickly turn his eyes to Galmar. The older man was giving him a questioning stare before he followed where Ulfric's eye had been. "I can have him removed."

"There's no need," Ulfric replied, regaining some composure. "It seems he's in good company. I doubt Ralof would bring in any unwanted guests."

Galmar nodded, "Would you like me to continue or should this wait until morning?"

"It can wait. I have a few things I need to tend to." Ulfric could see the annoyance in Galmar's face but the man said nothing to dissuade him. Without another word he made his way to the War Room. Ulfric stole a glance towards Ralof and the unnamed Bosmer, realizing that he was being watched. The elf's expression was neutral as he nudged Ralof. Whatever he said was lost to a whisper and he was too far to read what was said.

There was little solace in the War Room. While he was away from prying eyes all Ulfric could do was study at the table before him with increasing unease. The entirety of Skyrim lay before him, small markers placed where camps lay hidden, both friend and foe. Battle plans and tactics had been talked about, but nothing was happening. They had to wait for the right moment. Ulfric stood at the table's side, hands resting on the table before he moved a token representing a few troops. He frowned; it wouldn't work.

"Jarl Ulfric?"

"What is it," Ulfric sighed, eyes still trained on the map.

"We were wondering if we may have a word with you."

Ulfric paused as he formed a response. 'We,' he thought. He turned and saw Ralof standing in the doorway, the Bosmer at his side. "Who is your companion?"

"This is Eradrann," Ralof replied, the elf nodding his head slightly in response. "I'm not sure if you recall but he was with us in Helgen."

"I do. I am not too surprised to see you in one piece," Ulfric explained. "With Ralof's story it seemed like the two of you had an easy time escaping."

The corner of Eradrann's mouth turned up into a slight smile, "Then it seems our memory of the escape differ. I recall having a hard time escaping with my limbs still attached."

Ulfric nodded, "What's brought you to Windhelm?"

"He wishes to join our cause and I am here to vouch for his credibility."

"You want to aid the Stormcloaks?" Ulfric snorted.

Eradrann nodded, "I'm not too keen working alongside those who once tried to have my head."

"I thought you and your ilk would prefer to see me dead."

"Let's say that I don't usually agree with my ilk."

Ulfric stared at Eradrann and the elf met his gaze with one filling with ire, the red paint around those green orbs giving the illusion of licking flames. He turned his attention to Ralof who seemed to be growing unsure with the situation. "Leave us. I wish to chat with you friend," Ulfric said, turning his eyes back to the Bosmer. "I need to figure out if he has what it takes."

Ralof said something that was lost to Ulfric before leaving the War Room. For a moment, as the Jarl stared at the elf, he wondered what he was intending to do. There had been no need to shoo Ralof away. Joining the ranks of the Stormcloaks was easy enough and held no secrets. It was his pride that had done him in, and his own damned curiosity about this strange elf before him.

"Shut the door," Ulfric said, "and place your weapons on the ground."

Eradrann did so without a hint of reluctance. "A little worried about me trying to kill you?"

"It wouldn't be the first time something like that has happened."

A chuckle escaped the Bosmer as he placed his bow and quiver on the floor. "I'll remove my cloak as well, if that will assuage your fears." He didn't wait for a response, shrugging off the pelt and tossing it aside. Eradrann stood without a weapon, clad in black leather armor and gloves that accentuated his wiry form. He held his head high and looked at Ulfric with a slight smile on his face. "Nothing to hide now."

Ulfric snorted with a frown and walked around the map table, eyes trained on the Bosmer. "So tell me what makes you think I'll welcome you into my ranks?"

"I suppose since surviving an attack by Dragon isn't enough," Eradrann sighed. He strode to the table and looked down at the markers on the map. With a gloved hand he moved one of the Empirical markers, glancing up at Ulfric with a smile. "First off, I know that your information is old by a few weeks. Second, no-one would expect you to let an elf into your little group." Eradrann leaned over the table, catching Ulfric's eye and flashing a toothy grin. "Third, I think it's more becoming of the Nords to accept aid from their Dragonborn."

For a moment those words didn't register in Ulfric's mind. Rather, his attention seemed trained on what appeared to be a portion of a hidden tattoo hidden just beneath the color of the Bosmer's armor. He could feel Eradrann's eyes on him and shifted his attention quickly. 'Gods, what am I even doing?'

"You claim to be Dragonborn?"

Eradrann nodded, "I didn't quite ask for the title, but both the inhabitants of this country and the Greybeards seem to believe it. Who am I to argue?"

"I suppose we may be able to work something out."

"Good, because if you didn't it would seem my last resort would be siding with the Empire."

Ulfric watched as Eradrann removed his leather gloves, revealing lines of red slipping from beneath his armor and twining around his fingers. The elf held out his hand and waited for the Jarl to take it. When the moment never came Eradrann curled his fingers into a fist and let it fall to the table.

"Is there something wrong, Ulfric?"

"Your hands. . . ."

Eradrann held up his hands, examining them before locking eyes with Ulfric. "What about them? Think I might be hiding something beneath my skin?"

"Is that war paint?"

The question caused Eradrann to pause and once more look at his hands. A smile passed over his lips, "No, they're tattoos. Surely you've seen the like before."

"Never on one's hands."

Ulfric felt his throat grow tight as Eradrann splayed a hand over the map and used the other to push the sleeve of his armor halfway up his forearm. The tattoo, seeming to be a intricate knotting of vines, continued beyond what Ulfric could see. He found himself wanting to see more, wanting to demand that Eradrann do so but he stopped himself when he saw the lecherous grin on the elf's face.

"Like 'em, do you?"

Ulfric bit his tongue and gave the elf a hard stare. Eradrann's shrugged in response, taking a hand and pulling at the color of his armor. True to the Jarl's observation moments before there was a tattoo beneath his cuirass. "I have quite a bit."

"Indeed," Ulfric replied, his mind reeling with what he was seeing. He knew he had to get the upper hand, something to regain his composure. He made his way around the table, eyes locked with Eradrann. Without a word Ulfric took hold of the Bosmer's jaw and slowly turned his face so he could study the elf's piercings. "Is this common amongst your people?"

Eradrann shrugged, seemingly unfazed by the Nord handling him like he was. "Tattooing the body is not uncommon. Some prefer war paint over something so permanent."

"And your ears?"

"That is personal preference and, like my tattoos, I have quite a bit," Eradrann replied with a wink.

"Show me."

Eradrann suddenly pulled away, brow furrowed as his eyes narrowed. "You can't be serious."

"And if I am?" Ulfric smiled as he watched an array of emotions wash over the Bosmer's face. He didn't respond to the question but met his gaze.

"Your recruitment methods are strange."

"Then you wish to crawl to the Empire?"

Eradrann frowned, "You want to see my tattoos and piercings?"

"If I may."

"Not here, though. It would be rather embarrassing if one of your men happened to walk in during this. What would that do to your image?"

Ulfric raised a brow and smiled. The elf had regained his footing rather quickly. "Return tonight and I promise you a standing amongst the Stormcloaks."

Ulfric hadn't expected much to become of what had transpired. He had hoped that the Bosmer would have left well enough alone, that he would demand something a little more reasonable in the way of initiation. Why, then, was Ulfric waiting up that night? He closed his book with a curse and stared down at the worn cover. It was nearing midnight. He needed some rest

The soft knock at the door caused Ulfric to pause and wonder if it had been in his mind. The Palace of Kings was old and it was normal for such things to happen. Once more the knock sounded, louder this time and more insistent. 'This is what you wanted,' Ulfric thought to himself. That thought lingered in his mind, conjuring up the fresh images of the Bosmer's tattooed hands. Curiosity was getting the better of him.

Ulfric pulled open the door and found the familiar cloaked form standing before him. Eradrann pushed past the Jarl, slipping in without a sound or greeting. Ulfric shut the door and watched the Bosmer pull down the hood of his cloak, staring at him from beneath a mop of disheveled hair. A smile played across the elf's face causing the light to glint off the piercings beneath his lower lip.

"Sorry I kept you waiting," Eradrann explained. "Hard to slip away unawares."

"I was beginning to believe that you wouldn't show."

Eradrann laughed as he removed his cloak, tossing it onto Ulfric's bed with little effort. He looked strange without his armor. Or was it the fact that the clothes he wore were common place and loose fitting? Ulfric couldn't place his finger on it while he studied Eradrann. The elf's black pants were loose in the legs but still appeared to hug his hips in a way similar to the leather and fur he had worn earlier that day. His tunic was a rich green and from beneath the split neckline Ulfric could see the hints of the tattoos laying unseen.

"I wouldn't show? Why would I give up such an opportunity?" Eradrann stretched and slowly began to wander around Ulfric's chamber. "Showing you how I'm decorated is easier than running around half of Skyrim killing or bringing back something that proves me worthy."

"You seem rather calm about this."

Eradrann shrugged, "You're not the first person who wanted to see what I was hiding, though you are the one with the highest standing."

Ulfric didn't quite know how to respond. For some reason he felt a surge of jealousy at the thought of others seeing this strange elf. Perhaps it was the nonchalant manner of it all. He found himself watching Eradrann examine the room, trailing his painted fingers along the woodwork and making inane comments. As the Bosmer moved past him Ulfric caught the faint scent of a fire and food. 'He was at the tavern. Had a drink or two, no doubt.'

"Sit! Get comfortable," Eradrann said, motioning to the Jarl's bed. "There's no reason to do this standing, is there?"

There was little Ulfric could do but comply. He sat at the edge of his bed and steadied his eyes on Eradrann. The Bosmer gave a wink as he stood before the Jarl, slowly lifting away his tunic. The Jarl's very breath seemed to be caught in his throat as he watched more and more of the elf's body reveal itself. The deep red vines wrapped around his torso, licking like flames and accentuating his form.

Slowly Eradrann turned, dropping his tunic on the floor and letting Ulfric take in his body from every angle.

"Why red," Ulfric breathed, glancing up at those green eyes.

"Fire is the enemy of the wood," Eradrann replied. "I always thought if I could embody such a destructive element I would be invulnerable."

"And has it worked?"

Eradrann flashed a toothy grin, "I've survived more than my share of dragon attacks, have I not?"

Once more Ulfric let his attention drift to the elf's body, eyes trailing along every inch of exposed flesh. His fingers ached; he had to touch him. He extended a hand, glancing at Eradrann before he came into contact with the marked flesh. The look on Eradrann's shifted into something akin to smugness but he nodded.

Eradrann took in deep breath as Ulfric sat further on the edge of his bed, his fingers slowly tracing over his tattoos. Those fingers followed years of memory, moments of pain and triumph. The touch was reverent rather than exploratory. Soon the Jarl's other hand followed a similar path, this one slipping around Eradrann's body to run along the small of his back.

"Does this meet your approval," Eradrann asked lazily, obviously enjoying the slow touches from the Jarl's hands.

"Perhaps."

It was a lie; an obvious one and Ulfric had little doubt that Eradrann saw through it. Yet the Bosmer didn't stop any of this. There was no attempt to back away or retrieve his clothes. Ulfric stood slowly, locking eyes with Eradrann as he raised his fingers to the man's lips. He didn't expect the elf open his mouth and capture his finger with a mischievous look in his eye. The elf's tongue twisted around Ulfric's finger and he shuddered as he felt something alien moving with it. Eradrann released the digit with a smile, his tongue snaking out to reveal that it too was pierced.

"You are sight to see," Ulfric said softly.

Eradrann's brows arched, "Flattery, my dear Jarl, will get you into my good graces."

Ulfric traced the painted lines on the elf's lips, pulling his hand away before he could capture his finger again. "Shouldn't you be trying to work into mine?"

"I know for a fact that having me, the Dragonborn, at your side would be a major boon," Eradrann replied. He leaned in close to the Jarl and ran his tongue along the man's lower lip. "I think you should be trying to show me why your side of this fight is worth my time."

Re: Work of Art (6/?)

(Anonymous) - 2013-09-01 08:59 (UTC) - Expand

Op

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Re: Work of Art (7/?)

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Re: Work of Art (7/?)

(Anonymous) - 2013-09-05 04:30 (UTC) - Expand

OP again

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Re: Work of Art (8/?)

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Re: Work of Art (8/?)

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Re: Work of Art (8/?)

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Re: Work of Art (8/?)

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