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HELPFUL TIPS
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>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.
The Ashlander and his Enslaved Scholar (2c/??)
Date: 2014-06-04 08:27 pm (UTC)Keep your head down. Whatever you do, keep your head down.
Marelle sternly advised herself, staring at the feet of her captor and the hide booted feet of the female Dunmer. The rasping, deep voice sliced through the thicket of silence overhanging the uncomfortable duo. The Breton knew it was the Dunmer woman's, talking to her captor in a stern, harsh tone; despite not understanding a single word of Dunmeri, the scholar was bewildered that the Dunmer was chastising her fellow Ashlander. Must be his mother or elder sister.
The Breton was startled by the sharp sound of the Dunmer cracking the back of her hand across Marelle's captor's face. It was a mistake to look up as more and more Ashlanders were coming over, attracted to the commotion of the hysterical Wisewoman's fiery outlasting at the huntsman.
The scholar snapped her head down, displaying fearful submission, as her hands twisted and rung the front of her dusty robes, the knuckles turning whiter than before.
This was terrible.
Although she did expected to gain masses of attention from her captor's people but this was a hundred times worse than what she envisioned her introduction to the tribe. Although the irate Ashlander woman was still busy reprimanding the Breton's master, she just loathed the waiting and knowing she will be placed under that woman's scornful gaze.
Marelle's ear twitched, picking up the change of the Dunmer's tone. She was now questioning about the petite female, solemnly standing a little behind the huntsman. Oh gods.
Long, bony and cool gloved fingers grasped hold of Marelle's jaw, abruptly tilting her face up to the scrutinising blood eyes of the ivory haired Dunmer.
The Breton held her breath. Her heart races. She feels the need to spill out her tears from the constricting fear seizing her soul, threatening to squeeze the life out of the terrified young scholar.
The Dunmer turned her face, studying the foreign fair complexion and youthful age of the human, unintentionally forcing the petrified human to see the many hatchet faces of anticipating Ashlanders.
There were mer and womer alike, some wearing casual Dunmer clothing whereas others were suited up in chitin armour. Most of them wore grey masks of fascination, interest and excitement at the prospect of a new servant to provide convenience to the community. Whereas some bore looks of distrust, scepticism and measured hatred towards the filthy Outlander who could backstab them in some spiteful way in retaliation of not accepting its place; it'll bring trouble to the well-established tribe, that's for sure.
The knot of dread tightens ever more within the Breton's stomach, bile threatening to erupt and shoot out of her mouth but the braving Breton kept swallowing the bitter acid back, not wishing to provoke their anger; especially of the highly fearsome Dunmer currently studying her.
At last, her tensed jaw was released from the Dunmer's steel claw. However, Marelle was still made to look in the womer's somber face. The scholar was captured by the burning red orbs, pinning the young woman in place.
"What are you called?" The Dunmer plainly inquired her. It took a few moments for Marelle to reel back from her shock of the Dunmer speaking Common to her, along with her stubbornness to surrender her name.
The fearsome Dunmer nodded her approval, expression impassive, as she turns to the Breton's captor and the few other Dunmer that stepped forward.
~~~~
* "ZAIRAN! Where in Oblivion have you been?!"
I made up some Dunmer words since I couldn't find any, especially for Oblivion. ^^;
Oh look, another but miniature cliffhanger. I just wanted to post this up early to show my gratitude to all of you who have been and are still following this story. Thank you~
OP
Date: 2014-06-04 10:04 pm (UTC)I can't wait for the next update, but take your time and do well on your tests.
Hahahahaha, I laughed so hard when she smacked Zairan. He had it coming, I'm afraid, I just hope he won't take it out on Marelle as she had nothing to do with it. The wisewoman can speak Common, can she? This will make things a little easier for Marelle, I think... as far as communication goes. Does Zairan have his own yurt? Or is it a communal one?
Thanks for updating! I wonder how the other Dunmer will treat poor Marelle now? She needs to catch a break. She's had a rough time of it lately. ;)
Anon here~
Date: 2014-06-05 04:06 pm (UTC)Dawww thanks, I hope your exams went smoothly as well; btw that's me done for my year, now I've got this month and the next to write and write fills!!! ^^
That's great to hear! For a while I thought you might have been diagnosed with Writer's Block Syndrome, nonetheless I'm glad it hadn't been abandoned. :-)
I'm glad you found that funny with Favova smacking Zairan, I'd thought that'd rise amusement from you. Aye, she's one of the very few who do from the Urshilaku; I'll put in an explanation why later on. Ooh, I'm afraid I can't kiss and tell much OP, I gotta keep you and the others in the suspense Marelle's going through. I apologise for being so cruel! XD
Aww, thank you for giving sympathy to Marelle; poor girl needs it after what she's been through nearly for a whole day! I'll see what I can do to ease her suffering, don't you worry. ;-)
You're very welcome and I'll try to update as often as I can! :-)
I'll be looking forward also to more of your tasty fill on Nellie and your wonderful Mia.
Re: The Ashlander and his Enslaved Scholar (2c/??)
Date: 2014-06-05 05:27 am (UTC)A!A
Date: 2014-06-05 04:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-09 12:32 am (UTC)"xx
Re: The Ashlander and his Enslaved Scholar (2c/??)
Date: 2014-06-28 01:37 am (UTC)AND LESS CLIFFHANGERS. D8
The Ashlander and his Enslaved Scholar (2d/??)
Date: 2014-07-21 08:41 pm (UTC)There were three males, two obviously younger than the seasoned Dunmer who wore a fur rope with chitin shoulder guards. He must be the tribe's leader, if his crown of moulded copper was anything to go by, crafted in a braid style with visible holes where porcelain feathers of some bird species were stuck in. His weathered face held interest but retained a quality of solemness in this unexpected turn of affairs.
The two other males, despite the characteristic web-linings below their eyes, were both clearly young elves as well. One was tall and lanky, sharing the same body structure as Zairan, draped in blue mage robes with a golden Tribunal hand printed on the front of his chest. His long, umber hair is held back by a twisted knot, holding the top layer while the rest flows freely down his back.
The other male was the complete opposite. He was very a broad shouldered mer with thick cords of muscle bulging under his dark grey flesh, donned in a sleeveless, copper hauberk. Only the top layer of the Dunmer's tawny amber hair was spared from being shaved, scraped and held by a stout ponytail at the back of his blocky skull. His face is decorated in fingerprints of white paint, doting along the top of his prominent brow, strengthening the emphasis of his near permanent scowl his face is set in.
There was another Dunmer approaching; one that was a beryl blue female. She wore similar robes to the lanky, young male but had the restoration symbol of a golden, flaming phoenix stitched into the powder blue triangle of the front of her attire. A thick, platinum blonde tendril hovers over a wine-red eye, her face matured more gracefully than that of the hysteric Dunmer woman before. She approached then stood by the side of the elder, possible tribe chief, speaking to him in a soft, rasping tone - most likely questioning about the Breton.
The ivory haired Dunmer female turns to the four fellow tribespeople, beckoning Marelle's captor to her side, possibly explaining the situation of the appearance of the Manmer and Zairan's intention of keeping her.
The young scholar peeped another glance to the other Ashlanders, her breath caught in her throat as her eyes met those of a Redguard woman.
The other servant to the Ashlanders appeared to have went to Oblivion and back. Her face is hallow and drawn, her dreary dark eyes were red and sunken deep in their sockets. She wore filthy rags that barely give her protection from the climates of the land; they were as worn down and pitifully thin as the fellow human. Her brown skin was caked with patches of dried dirt and grey ash, almost successful in hiding the healing bruises and whip scars.
The Redguard was a frightening representation of the Ashlanders' treatment towards their slaves.
The petrified Breton continued to stare at her sister slave, even as she was being led away, watching as she looks to the young scholar with sympathy shimmering briefly in her solemn gaze.
Well, at least Marelle will not be alone in her enslavement.
~~~
So sorry about the late update guys! I was suffering a bit from Writer's Block and been working so hard at work. ^^;
If you any of you guys guess who the Redguard is, first of you will get a reward~
Re: The Ashlander and his Enslaved Scholar (2d/??)
Date: 2014-07-23 10:05 am (UTC)Is she Niyya?
Anon here...
Date: 2014-07-23 07:48 pm (UTC)Thanks you for leaving feedback - I worried that everyone abandoned reading this!
Okay, here is your reward Anon -
For being the first you won the reward of including a character to my "The Ashlander and his Enslaved Scholar"!!! Your character can be an Ashlander, slave or a random character I will use and include in a part of the story! :-D
Re: The Ashlander and his Enslaved Scholar (2d/??)
Date: 2014-07-31 03:44 am (UTC)OP here!
Date: 2014-08-01 01:30 am (UTC)I was so happy to see another update! Loved it, as always.
The Ashlander and his Enslaved Scholar (2e/??)
Date: 2014-08-24 08:20 am (UTC)The interior of the yurt was decked with hanging white animal skins from the bears and wolfs up north. There were a few lit lanterns strung above their heads, of Imperial design, from what they salvaged from abandoned ore mines during their explorations around Solstheim. A bed crafted out of dried-burnt wood was situated in the far left corner of the spacious yurt, topped with plenty of furs and straw to keep one warm and comfy during the isle's bitter nights. Despite the undertone of sulphur tinting the air, there was a unassuming herbal incense that was easy and pleasant to one's nose.
Favova removed her wolf leather gloves, placing them on the corner of a rounded side table with assortments of alchemy ingredients. The Dunmer then retrieved a fur-cushioned stool to place in the middle of the room. She then beckoned the Manmer over, helping her up to stand on the stool before she began to check over the well-being and abilities of the new slave. The Wisewoman sensed the expertise the little human has on magicka; using a soft, marked strip of leather Favova measures the Manmer's wrists for her to craft the appropriate slave cuffs to restrain her nephew's pet.
Once she was done and took note of the size and strength, the ivory-haired womer approached the impatient, foot-tapping huntsman waiting next to her arcane enchanter.
"I'll need you to wait outside." Favova says to him, already expecting the slight flare of defiance in his intense stare, before he nodded in respect to her wish then left through the dusty, doe-skin of the yurt's flap.
The Wisewoman sighs, reproaching the anxious slave still dutifully standing on the stool. Favova helps her down from the furniture, cautious in not showing any abrupt movements or expressions that may pose the least bit of aggression to the frightened rabbit of a person. She steers then calmly gets the girl to sit down at the foot of her bed, untying her bounds. The girl rubs at the ache of her wrists, the skin rubbed raw pink by the Netch leather, sighing a "thank you" to the Dunmer's act of kindness.
Favova drags over another burnt-wood chair, crafted in that braided and otherworldly Dunmeri style, sits down in a splotched but alert manner before the Manmer.
"I will need to question you..." The Dunmer plainly states, the girl staring back wide-eyed but nods her consent.
"Has Zairan, how do you say, touched you in a sexual manner?" She asks.
For a while the Manmer is silent, her fidgeting of fisting her robes halted with her head hanging heavy in shame, before she at last looks up under the furred brim of her mage hood to the cynical womer.
"...Y-yes..." The Manmer whispers, tears straining her voice to a quivering whine, as if she were coming clean with a crime she would be punished greatly for. Favova studies the Manmer, knowing from her tensed body language, Zairan must have violated her. Again, the Dunmer silently approved of the Outlander's answer before Favova instructed her to undress. Although she hesitated, the Manmer complied to the Wisewoman's wish.
"You are fortunate in having Zairan as your Master," The Dunmer began after she inspected the healed genitalia of Marelle's, noting the healed useless flesh of her hymen. She mentally notes down on more of the girl's good physical health, her mental health being the only thing that's in a fragile state from shock and trauma.
The Ashlander and his Enslaved Scholar (2e ii/??)
Date: 2014-08-24 08:28 am (UTC)The Wisewoman stands up from her chair, moving over to her crafting desk where she starts to work on the slave bracers, using Netch leather for this occasion. After she finishes hardening and readjusting the material, the Dunmer shifts over to her miniature board of a homemade arcane enchanter. She retrieves a lesser soul gem from a hanging basket to extract the glowing, miniature balled soul from within the crystal. Favova then selected a tracking enchantment from the encoded knowledge and memory of the enchanter, before she channeled the focused stream of magicka onto the bracers that now faintly glow a crimson red from the enchantment's energy.
She then approached the side of the now dressed Manmer, presenting the girl with her badge of slavery. Favova waits patiently but expectantly, allowing Marelle to have the control of putting the bracers on. Eventually after a time, the reluctant Manmer relents placing them on allowing the Dunmer to tighten and lock the bracers with an old but useful seal spell.
The deed was officially done. Marelle the Outlander Manmer has been formally inducted into the servitude for the Ashlanders.
Re: The Ashlander and his Enslaved Scholar (2e ii/??)
Date: 2014-08-29 12:17 pm (UTC)Hiatus
Date: 2014-09-21 04:51 pm (UTC)I apologise for the lack of updates and my activity on here.
I am really struggling with my depression at this time, so I will be away for a while. I'll try to get back to this story once I'm feeling better.
Thank you all for your support and patience.
Sincerely,
Anon
Re: Hiatus
Date: 2014-09-22 02:58 am (UTC)Re: Hiatus
Date: 2014-09-25 05:22 pm (UTC)