skyrimkinkmeme (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
skyrimkinkmeme) wrote2013-07-04 01:41 pm
skyrimkinkmeme) wrote2013-07-04 01:41 pm
Skyrim Page 5 - "NAKED! Naked naked naked "
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.
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>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.
Forfeit II (part 8)
(Anonymous) 2014-05-24 07:24 am (UTC)(link)“Where is Argis?” the question sprang instantly to Farkas’ lips.
”I don’t know. He was on watch. When I woke up he was gone. This is all I found.” He held up a note, which Farkas took with a trembling hand. Once again, it bore the mark of the brotherhood.
Farkas, You will come to me. Await instructions. Babette
Farkas forgot how to breathe, as grief and shock drove him to his knees. He looked up at Vilkas, his face a mask of purest agony. He could not speak, but handed him the note.
“When was this?” Vilkas asked.
“Yesterday morning. I got here as fast as I could.”
“You heard nothing? Saw nothing? No indication as to where they might have gone?”
“Nothing. I’m sorry...”
Farkas got his voice back. “If I find...if you had anything to do with this...”
“Are you accusing me?” Torvar’s voice was icy.
“Of course he isn’t. He’s in shock,” Vilkas interjected. He looked at the other companions who had gathered. “I’m sorry, but Farkas and I must speak privately. No-one is to take any actions yet, but if any ‘instructions’ arrive, please tell me. We’ll be in my quarters.”
Farkas followed his brother down the stairs, and into his rooms. Shutting the door, he turned to Vilkas. “Please, don’t try to stop me. You know I have to go.”
“I’ve known you all my life, brother. I’d be insane to think I could talk you out of this.”
“Then what do we need to discuss?”
“You won’t be going alone. I’ve come to appreciate Argis, to love him as my brother. We will try to save him, and failing that, the three of us shall make the journey to Sovngarde together.”
“You don’t have to do this.”
“I do. I owe you for my life, and I owe him for yours. I cannot let you do this alone. Not again.”
Farkas embraced his brother. “For understanding how important this is to me, for not trying to stop me, I thank you. May the gods grant us success, whatever that turns out to be.”
There was a rapid knock at the door, and Athis stepped inside. “A courier just arrived with this. They’ve given you a map.”
“An abandoned shack, north of Morthal,” said Vilkas. “We can leave immediately.”
__
Argis awoke in pain. While unconscious, he had been chained, kneeling, to a post, contorting his shoulders, and cramping his thighs. Some kind of blindfold had been placed over his head, so efficiently that he could not even tell if it was night or day. He moved around, trying to find a more comfortable position.
“The newcomer awakes.” A khajiit voice to his right. “Welcome to hell, friend.”
“What do you mean?”
“The brotherhood are recruiting. We are to be their first test. To see if they are capable of killing on command. You are here until someone chooses you as their victim.”
Even as he spoke, the door opened and footsteps sounded on the wooden floor. A female voice spoke. “These are your targets, recruit. Hear their stories, and decide which one should die.”
“You. Khajiit. Tell me your story.” The new male voice sounded young, arrogant.
“I am a trader from the caravans. My name is Ri’taba. I am of no importance.”
“That’s all?”
“That is all, friend.”
“And you, woman. Tell me how innocent you are.”
“Please,” a voice to Argis’ left, “I’ve done nothing. I have four children. You can’t kill me.”
“Enough.”
“But...”
“Defend yourself, Nord. Tell me why no-one would ever take a contract on you.” After a pause, Argis realised it was his turn.
“I’m not sure that I can. I am no innocent. I have enemies.”
“You are saying that you deserve to die?”
“Everyone dies. Whether they deserve to is irrelevant. The only questions that matter are ‘when?’ and ‘how?’. If you are the person with the answers to those questions, then I stand ready.”
Tense moments passed. With sickening swiftness, to his left, Argis heard a scream, cut off abruptly. The smell of blood filled the air, and Argis offered a prayer for the soul of his fellow prisoner.
A feminine whisper, hot in his ear. “Well played, Housecarl. It is rare that I gain respect for those in your position.”