Skyrim Page 5 - "NAKED! Naked naked naked "

[skyrimkinkmeme]

 CLOSED FOR PROMPTS,

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.

Comments

“The Spring Wind That Blew Through Dragonsreach” F!OC/Farengar Secret-Fire, 3c/?

[(Anonymous)]

Olria chewed on her fingernails as Arcadia struggled to work out the remaining nails in the door. Every minute the shopkeeper took, Farengar bled out more. He needed Olria.

“There,” Arcadia grunted. She undid the bolt and threw the door open wide.

“Gods, finally,” Olria said. She dashed out the door.

“Wait, you forgot the healing potions!” Arcadia shouted after her.

Olria sprinted through the crowds of soldiers and commoners. She reached the stairs leading to Dragonsreach and mounted them two at a time. Soldiers stared at the running mage as she burst through the keep doors and into Farengar’s workroom.

Light came from her mentor’s bedroom. Jarl Balgruuf and a pair of soldiers were inside, with Farengar stretched out on his bed. The men blocked him from view but turned at the sound of Olria’s entrance.

“You’re Farengar’s apprentice?” the Jarl demanded.

“Yes,” Olria said, still breathing heavily from her run. “Please, I need room.”

The Jarl and his soldiers squeezed by her and left the room. “I have a city to salvage,” the Jarl murmured. “Do what you can for him.” With a barked order, his soldiers scurried away. He shut the door behind them. Apparently there were things more important than one dying man right now.

Olria fell to her knees beside the bed were Farengar lay. If Olria hadn’t been working with the injured for months at the Temple of Kynareth, she would have balked at the sight of her mentor. She leaned forward, assessing the extent of the damage. His belly was a mess of blood; a Stormcloak had gutted him, making for a long, painful death. Amidst all the blood, she couldn’t tell if the they’d stabbed and slashed at him elsewhere, too.

The man’s eyes fluttered open. They took a moment to focus on his apprentice. He seemed confused to see her. Olria found the knife hiding in the top drawer of his bedside table and used it to cut open the mage’s robes from neck to navel.

As she put aside the blade and reached to hold her palms over the worst wound, Farengar’s hand shot out and clenched her wrist. “I’m sorry I sent you away,” he gasped, face twisting with pain.

“Don’t apologize. You were right. I wouldn’t have stood a chance.” Not if he was in such a sorry state. Now, if the man would hurry up and let go of her – Olria grabbed his hand and pulled it away, concentrating again on summoning her magicka.

Warmth filled the palms of her hands. Sweet and bright, it travelled from her skin and into his, like dry earth drinking water. The blood slowly seeped back through the pores of his skin. The wound stitched itself closed, folding up into a thin white seam. Olria felt the draw on her magicka increase as the deeper internal injuries repaired themselves. With the last of her energy, she sent her magic radiating outwards from her hands, finding the axe slice in his thigh and the slash on his bicep. These, too, closed up, leaving behind faint scars.

It took only a minute or two to heal Farengar of all his injuries. By then, the healing had virtually depleted her magicka. Olria sighed. She dropped her forehead to the edge of the man’s bed.

A hand tentatively rested on her hair. Farengar smoothed back the strands in the most soothing way. Olria let herself linger for a moment before clearing her throat and straightening. His hand left her head and settled back on the bed. He looked like himself again, with a healthy flush on his cheeks. Unfortunately, the man’s clothes were torn and ragged. His blood had disappeared, but the material would be unsalvageable.

“I hope those robes weren’t worth too much,” Olria said dubiously.

Farengar looked down at himself. He chuckled. “A grand soul gem and a new enchantment should be all it takes to make me another pair,” he said.

Olria smiled and stood. The room swirled around her. She staggered. Farengar shot up and grabbed her hand. “Sit down,” he instructed.

Re: “The Spring Wind That Blew Through Dragonsreach” F!OC/Farengar Secret-Fire, 3c/?

[(Anonymous)]

The anxiety, the hope, the relief - bam, bam, bam. It me one after the other. Your style is so amazing. It flows seamlessly, bringing out one emotion and expertly melding it into the next - I am hopelessly in love with your writing!

Re: “The Spring Wind That Blew Through Dragonsreach” F!OC/Farengar Secret-Fire, 3c/?

[(Anonymous)]

Just as well that Farengar finally gave up on trying to teach her Destruction magic and let her learn Restoration, as she wanted to!

The amount of planning in this story is most impressive.