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BUT OPEN FOR FILLS
HELPFUL TIPS
BUT OPEN FOR FILLS
HELPFUL TIPS
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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.
Re: Protective ulfric "A Bear's Roar" F!DB/Ulfric 1/?
Date: 2014-03-27 06:17 pm (UTC)“Welcome back, Storm Blade,” called Jorleif, raising his cup of mead in greeting and drawing her from her thoughts.
Eireann grinned at the steward, starting towards the Nord seated at the long table. Ever since she’d gutted Calixto and finally ended the reign of the Butcher, the reddish-maned man had been markedly warmer to the Breton. “Thank you, Jorleif. How have you been?” she asked, leaning against the table as she pulled an apple from her pocket and nibbled on it.
Jorleif grinned. “Better with you and Galmar winning battles for Ulfric.” He leaned back, assessing the Dragonborn who’d thrown her lot in with the Stormcloaks. “He’s in his bedchamber if you wish to report in,” he added, already turning his attention back to his meal. The Steward didn’t have to explain which ‘he’ he was referring to. As a Storm Blade, she answered directly to Ulfric. “He was insistent that if you arrived I was to send you to him.”
Eireann nodded, pushing off from the table, the now bare apple core disappearing back into her pack. She’d dispose of it later. “Then I had better go see Jarl Ulfric,” she agreed, straightening herself and starting towards the private wing of the palace that led to Ulfric’s bedchamber. “Thank you, Jorleif. And try to get some sleep.”
Eireann stepped into the map room immediately off the throne room, noting that most of the map now sported flags showing Stormcloak territory. A smile tugged at her lips as she thought of the men that she had befriended and fought next to since she had become a Stormcloak. She had had a hand in changing the color of those flags, she thought with pride.
Not too bad for a Breton girl with no prospects.
Pushing open the door that led to the wing housing Ulfric’s bedchamber, she padded up the stone steps and ramps. The guards were few and far between—it was nearing the end of shift and the night had been silent. She nodded at the few guards she passed, the soft call of “Storm Blade” dropping from more than a few lips. Soon she had reached Ulfric’s door and she rapped her knuckles against the thick wood.
No answer.
Pushing open the door, she peered into the room. The fire burned low in the grate and the candles had been snuffed out long before. She could make out a lumpy shape on the dais-raised bed that looked suspiciously like a sleeping Ulfric. Stepping further into the room, Eireann shut the door behind herself and stepped towards the bed.
“Jarl Ulfric?” she called, stepping up the few steps of the dais to stand beside his bed.
Slowly the Jarl of WIndhelm dragged himself from sleep, his wheat-colored mane tousled. He peered up at the woman standing beside his bed, his confused expression clearing. “Storm Blade. Ah,” he sighed, slowly sitting and raking his hands back through his hair, clearing it from his face.
Eireann nodded, stepping back from the bed to give him a moment. It also allowed her a moment to just watch him and it was illuminating. “Aye, my Jarl. Just returned a few minutes ago. Jorleif mentioned you wouldn’t want to wait until morning for a report.” She kept her tone neutral though she could feel an unfamiliar heat ratcheting up inside her as she watched the Jarl unfold himself from his bed, his usual fur and leather having been doffed before bed. Now he stood before her in just a simple set of pants and a tunic—though in their simplicity they served to highlight just how impressive a specimen he was.
Re: Protective ulfric "A Bear's Roar" F!DB/Ulfric 2/?
Date: 2014-03-27 06:21 pm (UTC)Eireann chuckled, relaxing as she hooked her thumbs in her belt, her hip cocked out slightly. “We have only to march on Solitude, my Jarl.” She frowned, glancing down at the flagstone floor. “Which makes my next request unusual.”
Ulfric leaned back against his desk, his blue eyes roving over his newest general as she stared at the floor. When she had come into his palace all those months ago, fresh from a brush with the Imperial headsman’s block, he hadn’t expected much from her. Perhaps she would one day warm his bed, but nothing more. Instead she had proven herself not only as the Dragonborn of legend but also as a capable warrior. Never would he have expected it of the raven-maned girl who stood before him. “What request would that be?” he purred, sleep roughening his voice more than usual.
Eireann glanced up, her cheeks heating slightly at the timbre of his voice. “I need leave to go to Solitude before we attack, my Jarl. I have information about the dragons—where they’re coming from and who might be behind the dragon attacks.”
Ulfric perked up. The dragon attacks were a true menace—he was losing whole villages to the winged monsters and the Dragonborn was just one woman who couldn’t be everywhere. “What kind of information?”
Eireann sighed, tugging at the single braid that hung from her right temple to tangle in her dark mane. Gerdur had twined her hair into the braid last time she was in Riverwood—the sawmill owner had shown her singular kindness. “When I went to fetch the Horn of Jorgen Windcaller, I was beaten to it by a woman named Delphine. She is a member of the Blades and she has been helping me find out information about the dragons, my Jarl,” she admitted, still staring at the stone floor.
Ulfric frowned. He had known that she had gone to the Greybeards—gods, he’d all but ordered her to High Hrothgar to do exactly that when she had first arrived in Windhelm. But he’d not known that Delphine had contacted his Dragonborn. “Delphine…blonde…Breton…short-tempered?” he asked, hoping that there might be another Delphine wandering around the countryside.
Eireann nodded, raising her eyes from the floor. “Aye, my Jarl. She thinks the Thalmor are behind the dragons. It makes sense—the dragons are attacking both Imperial and Stormcloak positions and towns, weakening Skyrim and the Empire as a whole.”
Ulfric’s frown deepened as he considered the logic. It made a certain sense, he supposed. But that Delphine was involved—he remembered her from the war. She had been brash and impulsive and too quickly given to theories of conspiracy. It troubled him that the old spy had drawn in his Dragonborn. “But why do you need to go to Solitude before we take it?” he asked, arms crossed over his broad chest.
Eireann sighed. “Because I’m going to be infiltrating the Thalmor Embassy. I’ll have an invitation to one of Elenwen’s parties and I’ll search the grounds for evidence,” she admitted, the plan sounding ludicrous to her ears as she shared it with Ulfric.
Ulfric gaped at the petite woman standing before him. “What?” he breathed.
Eireann swallowed, watching as a rage seemed to swallow his face, his cheeks reddening even as his eyes sparkled dangerously. “I’ll be perfectly safe, my Jarl. Delphine—“ she began.
Ulfric growled, the sound stopping Eireann’s words. Pushing off the desk at his back, he stormed towards the Dragonborn. “Delphine is a fool. Always was. Blind and short-sighted. She’d sacrifice you to the Thalmor?” he growled, his arms gripping her biceps as he glowered down at her. “She has no right.”
Eireann’s eyes widened. “My Jarl. I must find out more about the dragons. And the best time to do this is before the final attack. Please, my Jarl,” she begged. She knew in her heart of hearts that she would still go, still infiltrate the Thalmor Embassy without his blessing, but she respected him.
Re: Protective ulfric "A Bear's Roar" F!DB/Ulfric 3/3
Date: 2014-03-27 06:22 pm (UTC)Eireann shook her head, her head cocked back to meet his gaze. He was so much taller than her—she sometimes forgot how big of a man he was. “I promise, my Jarl. You won’t lose me.”
Ulfric’s expression clouded as he stared down at her, his lips pressed into a determined line. Leaning down, he captured her lips, swallowing her gasp of surprise as he took the opportunity to invade her mouth with his tongue.
Eireann moaned as Ulfric pulled her against him, the lack of armor on his part letting her feel him beneath her fingers. He was so warm and she found herself drawn to him, such a contrast was his warmth to the cold outside the palace. As he stripped her armor from her, his mouth trailing after his hands, she could only gasp and moan. When he lifted her into his bed, his powerful body poised over her, she had swallowed and pulled him to her.
“Mine,” growled Ulfric as he took her lips, his cock poised at her entrance, his blue eyes boring into hers. “Say it, my Storm Blade. Say it, Eireann,” he purred, his lips dancing at her temple and down to her ear.
Eireann arched against Ulfric, hands clutching at his biceps as he teased his tip against her, her thighs hooked around his hips. “Yours, Ulfric,” she breathed, a shuddering breath escaping her lips a moment later as Ulfric slid into her.
Ulfric let out a low moan as he sank to the hilt into her, her body clenching around him. He wanted to draw it out, take his time, but both of them seemed filled with a preternatural urgency. Hands cupping her ass, he began to plunge into her and withdraw repeatedly, her body arching like a bow beneath him and her soft cries growing more urgent with each thrust. When her body clenched a final time around him, heat and wet coating his cock, he finally let himself go, erupting inside her with a roar.
Collapsing to the side of her, pulling her body against him, he stared down at the dark-haired warrior. “You are mine, little Eireann. As I am yours,” he breathed, his arms curling around her.
Eireann lay silent beside Ulfric for long minutes until his breath steadied and he was deeply asleep again. Rising from the bed, she pulled her armor back on and crept to his desk. With his quill, she left him a note—a note promising to return. She might be Ulfric’s—but she still had a mission, one greater than the division between Stormcloak and Imperial. Steeling herself, she crept out of the palace, the shadows swallowing her as she disappeared into the night.
Hours later Ulfric woke, rolling towards the side of the bed where Eireann had lain. The scent of her clung to the pillow and he breathed it in. Smiling, he opened his eyes and peered around his bedchamber, fully expecting the Dragonborn to be there. Instead, his eyes found the note pressed to the pillow.
His bearlike roar echoed off the stone walls.
~FIN~
Asta anon is flailing like an idiot
Date: 2014-03-28 03:40 am (UTC)I want more Q.Q
Please excuse me while I struggle to get a handle on my feels.
Idk I think my favorite part is the 'nah bro f u I'm dragonborn??? Like I respect you but I'mma do what I want'.
It's late and I need to be in bed but excellent job nonny!!!
Re: Re: Protective ulfric "A Bear's Roar" F!DB/Ulfric 3/3
Date: 2014-03-28 04:49 am (UTC)Re: Protective ulfric "A Bear's Roar" F!DB/Ulfric 3/3
Date: 2014-04-02 07:29 am (UTC)Re: Protective ulfric "A Bear's Roar" F!DB/Ulfric 3/3
Date: 2014-04-02 12:49 pm (UTC)Re: Protective ulfric "A Bear's Roar" F!DB/Ulfric 3/3
Date: 2014-04-02 02:42 pm (UTC)Re: Protective ulfric "A Bear's Roar" F!DB/Ulfric 3/3
Date: 2014-04-03 02:12 am (UTC)...Please, Author!Anon, can we have more?
Re: Protective ulfric "A Bear's Roar" F!DB/Ulfric 3/3
Date: 2014-04-04 07:18 am (UTC)Re: Protective ulfric "A Bear's Roar" F!DB/Ulfric 3/3
Date: 2014-04-04 01:48 pm (UTC)Re: Protective ulfric "A Bear's Roar" F!DB/Ulfric 3/3
Date: 2014-04-04 08:54 pm (UTC)Re: Protective ulfric "A Bear's Roar: Epilogue " F!DB/Ulfric 1/2
Date: 2014-04-05 10:07 am (UTC)Eireann groaned and lifted her head from the lip of the tub, opening one eye to glare at the High King who stood in the doorway of her kitchen. “Ulfric, don’t scare my housecarl,” she warned tiredly. She laid back again against the wall of the tub, dark curls floating like strings of seaweed atop the bathwater. “Calder, ignore Ulfric and get more hot water, please.”
Ulfric turned to glare at the housecarl—stopping him from moving towards the water boiling on the hearth. Calder raised his hands and began to back away, much as one would a wild animal. Satisfied that Calder would not interfere, Ulfric turned his attention back to Eireann. “Get out of that tub and put on some clothes. You’re coming home with me.”
Eireann sighed, cracking open her other eye to glare at the future High King. “No. I’m going to sit in this tub until my skin becomes wrinkled and pruned and then I’m going to get out and we can have a proper argument.” She smirked at the angry expression blooming on Ulfric’s face. “That was your purpose in barging in here, correct? To shout at me until I obey you without question?”
Ulfric’s eyes narrowed as he advanced on Eireann, the dumbstruck Calder forgotten. “Shouting was part of my plan. But you should obey me because I will be your High King. And I am your Jarl.”
Eireann glanced at Calder, her own eyes narrowing as she nodded towards the door. “Go, Calder. This might get messy,” she warned, an edge to her voice. An edge Calder recognized from battle. She waited until Calder scampered out of her house, the front door pulled shut with a heavy bang, before she gripped the edges of the tub and rose. Goosebumps skittered across her skin as her flesh cooled in the kitchen air. Stepping out of the tub, she pulled a bathsheet around herself, her back presented to Ulfric. “Ulfric, I suggest you go back to your palace. I will come to you once I’m ready.” Wet hair streaming down her back, she turned towards Ulfric, holding the bathsheet around her body, bare feet peeking out from the bottom edge of the cloth.
Ulfric frowned, glaring at the Dragonborn. He itched to rip the sheet from around her, to make sure that she had come through her adventures unscathed. “Now. We talk now.” He stepped closer, his broad hands falling on her shoulder, fingers gripping her through the bathsheet.
Eireann sighed. “Fine. I suppose it’s too much to wait until we’ve defeated Tullius to have this conversation,” she muttered to herself as she trudged upstairs to her bedroom, the heavy footfalls of Ulfric trailing after her. Her gown was laid out on the bedspread and she crossed the room to the bed, dropping the slightly damp bath sheet to the floor. Pulling the gown over her head, she turned to face the Jarl of Windhelm. “Talk.”
Ulfric stood, arms crossed over his chest, eyes narrowed as he glared down at the younger woman. “Was it worth it? Disobeying me?”
Eireann sighed, settling on the edge of the bed, one hand raking through her dark curls. The braid was missing—lopped off by a stray spell from the Thalmor. She’d have to go back to Riverwood and have Gerdur put it back in, she thought distractedly. “Honestly?” She looked up, meeting his gaze, allowing him to see the exhaustion behind her blue eyes. “No. It wasn’t.”
Ulfric frowned, taking a step closer to the Dragonborn. He’d never seen her so…defeated. Part of him ached to take her in his arms but he stayed the impulse, instead standing just outside of range of her. “What happened?”
Re: Protective ulfric "A Bear's Roar: Epilogue " F!DB/Ulfric 2/2
Date: 2014-04-05 10:08 am (UTC)Ulfric shook his head, stepping closer. “So does that mean that you’ll obey me from now on?”
Eireann glanced up, her expression amused. “No.”
Ulfric felt confusion fill him, knowing that it was reflected in his face. “But you just said…” he trailed off.
Eireann sighed, standing up from the bed. “You asked me if it was worth it. And I answered. But that doesn’t mean that I won’t disobey you in the future. You are my Jarl. You will be my High King.” She paused, waiting for her words to sink in to the large man before her. “But I will not obey you in all things—and to ask that of me is to ask me to have no more independent thought than one of those Dwemer automatons. I will obey you as I can but,” she stepped closer, her eyes narrowing, “I am Dragonborn. Ysmir, Dragon of the North is what the Greybeards call me. I will not be tamed and put in a cage, my King,” she purred, stepping into his personal space. She looked up at him, her eyes swirling with the darkness of a thousand midnights…or perhaps a dozen or more dragon souls. “Can you live with that?”
Ulfric found himself reaching for this dark-haired woman, tugging her against him as he gazed down at her. “Ysmir,” he purred, strong lips tracing the word over her throat. “I like that. It fits you. As long as you are MY dragon, I suppose I can live with that.”
Eireann chuckled, the sound dark. Promising. She met his gaze, her fingers tangling in his wheat-colored mane. “Good.”
~FIN~
Re: Protective ulfric "A Bear's Roar: Epilogue " F!DB/Ulfric 2/2
Date: 2014-04-07 09:44 am (UTC)Re: Protective ulfric "A Bear's Roar: Epilogue " F!DB/Ulfric 2/2
Date: 2014-04-08 07:17 am (UTC)Re: Protective ulfric "A Bear's Roar: Epilogue " F!DB/Ulfric 2/2
Date: 2014-04-12 05:17 pm (UTC)