#I just realized I made it sound like I was physically wandering around Skyrim and thinking about them lmao

[venacoeurva]

TeldWren doodle dump—I’ve spent my time meandering around in Skyrim thinking about their dynamics a lot, hence the shitload of art of them lol

1. I see Teldryn as someone who is handsy with his partners (usually more in private) and may pick them up a lot provided they aren’t way bigger than him and Wren being as small as he is makes this a lot easier and frequent lmao (he has random picking up rights)

2. #JustWerewolfThings

3. Snoozin

-Please do not reupload, edit, or use.-

[halfblood-fiend]

Fictober 2019 - Day 20 with special guests: Day 19, Day 18 and Day 15

From The Fictober 2019 event <3

Prompt 20 : “You could talk about it, you know?”

Prompt 19 : “Yes, I admit it, you were right.”

Prompt 18 : “Secrets? I love secrets.”

Prompt 15 : “That’s what I’m talking about! ”

Fandom : Star Trek: Voyager, Skyrim

Words : 3,551

Warnings : light gore and mention of blood and body horror

Day 20, 19, 18, and 15 - Vorik x Modern!OC

With a loud whoosh the flames from my hands extinguished as the last vampire collapsed in a heap of ashen clothes. The cavern plunged into near-total darkness again save for the flickering torch on the stone floor that Vorik had been carrying until we were ambushed. One fairly short fight later showed them this coven never stood a chance. I shook out my still smoking hands and blew on them. “Damn, that will never get old. It's still so cool!”

“Technically, it would be hot,” my companion said dryly, nudging a set of black robes near the entrance with the toe of his boot. A dagger clinked onto the limestone and he bent to pick it up and inspect it.

I was already heading towards the line of cupboards and bookcases along one roughhewn wall to rummage through them. “‘Cool' is human vernacular, you know, for when things are—”

“Yes, I am familiar with the terminology.” I heard the clatter of metal from behind me. Dagger must not have been up to his standards, I thought with a smile.

“Oh, so you're just being facetious,” I laughed.

Vorik fixed me with a somewhat smug look. “Yes.”

“Jerk,” I said with a smile.

Returning to my grand work pulling out drawers, I had to marvel at the little details that didn’t exist when I would play Skyrim on my computer. Where before I would “Press A to open” things and get a list of goods inside, I now had to work at finding anything worth looking for. I pulled out a rough linen dress from the bottom drawer and shook it out. I was rewarded by a puff of dust and the clatter of lockpicks on the rocks. One thing was for sure. This certainly felt a lot more like stealing now that I had to dig through physical objects to take things.

I grabbed the little coin purse tucked in the corner and turned around to search for the lockpicks I’d inadvertently spilled all over the floor, but my friend was ahead of me.

As Vorik extended his hand to give me the lockpicks, I noticed a streak of dark green on the inside of his arm.

I gasped. “Vorik! Are you bleeding?”

Appearing to notice it for the first time, the Vulcan inspected his forearm, loosening his leather braces so he could pull the shirt back. There, standing out stark against his pale yellow skin, thick dark green blood oozed out of two long jagged claw-like nicks. “Curious,” he murmured. “Are the safeties off?”

“They shouldn't be,” I replied slowly. “Computer? Status of holodeck safety protocols, please.”

An acknowledgment beep sounded in bizarre contrast to our surroundings from somewhere in the depths of the limestone vampire den. Then the robotic voice answered, “Holodeck Safety Protocols are still in effect.”

“Okay, thank you.”

We looked at each other.

“This wound is not real, then.”

“Looks pretty real,” I said doubtfully, reaching out to take his arm. But I stopped short and kept my hands to myself. “Does it feel real?”

Vorik glanced at me through his eyelashes. “Perhaps you should look away.”

“Why?”

“You're squeamish,” he said as though it should have been obvious.

I shrugged. “Whatever. It's not my blood.”

His eyebrow rose but he didn't say anything else before he grabbed his wrist with his other hand and squeezed. More blood seeped from the wounds running in long drips down his arm. A little gush shot into the air.

He was right. I should have turned away.

“What the fu—Oh, gross,” I choked before I clamped my mouth shut and spun around so my lunch wouldn't come up next. Even though on some level, I knew that our bodies acted differently despite looking very similar on the surface, I still wasn’t prepared for that. I don’t think I would ever have been prepared for blood spurts. My stomach churned.

“It does feel real,” I heard him say, his tone completely indifferent, “and it is acting real as well.”

“Well jus—ggkkh. Stop playing with it and just take care of it, will you?”

Unable to stand there without imagining more blood spurting from his arm, I wandered away towards the mouth of the cavern. It opened up into a long, steep passageway that led outside. It would take some time to walk but I knew that’s where it went. So whether the air was actually cooler or better circulated,  or I just imagined it was, being at the passage helped clear the dizziness somewhat. I certainly felt less like I would pass out, leaning against the rocky wall.

After a few minutes, Vorik joined me, his mouth turned in that slight secretive sort of smile that always killed me. “I did warn you to look away.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just so you know, we should find an herbalist or an apothecary as soon as we get back into town. You should have a Potion of Cure Disease on hand.” He looked over at me quizzically, so I clarified: “In case you get vampirism.”

This time my companion scoffed. “I cannot contract vampirism. I'm Vulcan.”

“What's that got to do with anything?” I laughed. “You think you're immune? Why? Because your blood is green or because your ears are already pointy? You were nicked with a vampire's claws, which means you can contract vampirism. Those are the rules of Skyrim set down by our lord and savior, Todd Howard.”

I felt more than I saw his eye roll. Together we ventured back into the gloom of the hallway. The torch in Vorik’s hand cast leaping shadows over the jagged limestone walls as we made out ascent.

“I am certain I cannot contract vampirism. This program was not made for my kind, the default avatar setting is human. And vampires can only be human, as they are human legends.”

“Uh-huh. Sure. Sounds an awful lot like more speculation than a logical assumption, my dude. You don’t have to take my advice if you don’t want to, but you’d better stay away from my neck!”

                                                              ***

“Computer, end program,” Vorik said into the air. No sooner had the acknowledgment sounded than the world shimmered and disappeared around us. My house in Riften was replaced by the reflective metal and crosshatching, bonelike metal bars of the holodeck. Vorik’s armor and most of my own, with the exception of Gilmorrak and my belt, disappeared, replaced by our civilian clothes.

“Hey, how’s your arm, by the way?”

He unbuttoned the clasp at the cuff and rolled up the sleeve of his grey tunic. He twisted his forearm left and right for me to see. There was no trace of any blood now. No evidence that he’d been harmed at all.

“Evidently it was part of the holodeck program.”

I shook my head. “That’s weird though because I’ve been straight up stabbed and shot with arrows until I looked like a pin cushion and I still never bled. It’s got to be a vital part of the programming, dude.”

“It is strange,” he agreed, “but it shouldn’t be of any concern. The wound is gone now. It was likely an oversight on the part of Mr. Kim or Mr. Paris. Perhaps something about translating such an ancient game to the holodeck.”

I ignored his jab at Skyrim and flashed him a smile. “Unless you become a vampire in the next couple of days,” I said.

“I will not become a vampire.”

I shook my head at him and sighed as he led me towards the door. I was always a little sad to leave Skyrim, or any of the holodeck programs, honestly, but my crewmates needed time to play. If I didn’t have that pang of guilt and unfairness hanging over my head, I would be way too content to stay on a holodeck forever. It always astounded me while watching the show: How could these people have this technology and not want to be there all their lives?

“Can a person live in a holodeck program?” I asked as we exited. I recognized the next two eager adventurers as Ensigns from security, so I waved while Vorik nodded to them.

“No, so you should never try it,” Vorik said, catching on easily to my line of thought. He did that a lot. I guess I was just a simple sort of creature. “Most holodeck programs are not equipped for sustained use,” he went on, “You would drain the reactors quickly. And while some holodecks utilize food replicators, like our own, this is not true for each one. Non-starship decks tend to use lower grade protein synthesizers since holographic meals are not meant to be the staple of one’s diet. These would have negligible nutritional value and you would eventually waste away.”

“You’re a spoilsport.”

“And you would kill yourself chasing fantasy as a coping mechanism. Problems, even your emotional ones, should be faced head on. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.”

I stopped dead in the hallway and gaped at him. Vorik had continued several paces before he realized I was no longer beside him. He looked around expectantly, his hands clasped behind him, but my brain had 404-ed.

“Did you just…?” A smile crept onto my face. “Did you just… quote Albus mcfreakin’ Dumbledore at me?”

Vorik stared at me blankly.

“You did, didn’t you? You thought I wouldn’t catch it, but you did! You read it??”

Vorik’s eyes closed for a half a second longer than normal as he took a deep breath. His gaze cast downward for a moment as if resigning himself before he looked at me again. “Yes, I did—”

I rushed him and grabbed him by the arms, grinning from ear to ear now. “You did? You did! Ohmygosh! You have to tell me what you think. What part are you at? How far have you gotten? Were you planning on reading through all of them or were you just trying out the first one? Are you finished with it? Please—ohmygod—tell me everything!”

Appearing both bemused and like he had just realized he’d made a horrible mistake, my Vulcan friend led me towards the mess hall, succinctly answering my questions as rapidly as I fired them off.

                                                             ***

“You don’t look too good,” I told Vorik as I set my bowl of spaghetti down at our table in the corner of the mess several days later. It was quiet, halfway between a midshift, and the hall was all but empty save for a handful of people and one Vulcan with his head in his hands.

At my voice, he sat up straight and blinked whatever it was bothering him away. “I am fine.”

“You look pale. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

Fork in hand, he started picking at his food. “I just need to meditate,” he mumbled.

I nodded and spun my own fork in my noodles idly for a few heartbeats. But like so many somewhat intrusive thoughts, I couldn’t keep it in my brain, and I opened my mouth to say conspiratorially, “Unless.”

“Giana,” Vorik warned, closing his eyes.

“Is the vampirism making you peakish?”

“I am not a vampire.”

“Sounds exactly like the sort of thing a vampire would say,” I replied, jutting out my lip in a face of disbelief. “But seriously, you could talk about it, you know. The actual thing that’s bothering you, I mean, not your unfortunate illness.”

Vorik rolled his eyes at me and continued to push his food around his tray. Even that he gave up after a few moments with a sigh and a shake of his head. “I haven’t been able to sleep. Or allocate the proper time to meditate. I keep going over our run-in with mining colony virus. There has to be something else we could have done, without leaving the captain to take care of herself.”

I barely suppressed a shudder at the mention of the nasty bugs that solidified my now-very-rational fear of anything insect-like. Doing what I did best, I covered it with humor. “Are you not sleeping at night because your new lifestyle requires you to sleep during the day?” He opened his mouth like he was going to chastise me, so I quickly added, “Captains are supposed to be able to take care of things themselves, that’s why they’re captains. Besides, there wasn’t anything else you could have done. We all did our best! We didn’t know we were being attacked. I can’t believe I, of all people, have to tell you this, but agonizing over it isn’t logical.”

“Perhaps not. But analyzing a situation where I believe my abilities to have failed me for the purposes of self-reflection and to ensure it does not happen again, is.”

I waved my fork around and shrugged. “If it makes you feel better, I’m mad at myself too for forgetting that stupid episode happened. Must’ve blocked it out. Those things were so nasty. And I bet if we weren’t all so caught off guard maybe we woulda thought of the holodeck trick too. I dunno, just be glad the captain came back when she did and don’t lose your head over it. I don’t want you to spiral out of control with your analysis, my dude.”

“I will not. I am not you.”

“Ouch.”

A new person joined us at the table. Their tray clattered next to mine and I turned to find Harry grinning at me. Instantly, I beamed back. His smile was always so infectious.

“Hey guys. What’s goin’ on over here?”

“Nothing,” Vorik said.

“It’s a secret.” I said over him.

“Secrets?” chimed a new voice, “I love secrets.” Tom sat on Harry’s other side and almost immediately began shoveling his mashed potatoes into his mouth as soon as his tray was down. “Do tell.”

“There is nothing going on,” Vorik repeated, his voice a little tighter. “There are no secrets. Giana is being impossible.”

“Vorik is turning into a vampire!” I said in a rush. Vorik folded his hands in front of his face and fixed me with a Vulcan’s closest approximation to a glare. I smiled and nudged his boot under the table with my own. He didn’t respond.

Harry, however, did. He lowered his spoon from his face, looking stricken, and fixed me with a very serious look. “Giana! We…we don’t say things like that around here…”

What?

My eyes widened as I realized what he was trying to say. “Oh! No! Just ‘cause the- skin and th-the pointy— No, nonononono. We were playing Skyrim together the other day and he was scratched by a vampire’s claws so I’ve been teasing him, that’s all! It’s not—no!”

Finally, Vorik looked satisfied and returned my kick under the table. Then it was my turn to glare at him.

“Oh. Good,” Harry sighed, clearly relieved he was spared a lesson in microaggressions, “I was going to say… I’d be surprised if that’s what it was coming from you.”

I ate my spaghetti in silence, hoping Vorik never thought that’s what I ever meant. Maybe I was laying it on a bit too thick, bringing up his vampire-hood every so often over the last couple of days. I really did just think I was being funny, but now I wasn’t so sure. Maybe I was just being a huge asshole.

“So you were hit by a vampire, huh?” Tom asked, bringing the conversation back. “Harry and I cleared out a den by Morthal for the Thaneship not too long ago. Harry wants to build the house.”

“I just think it’ll be better than all the pre-built ones!”

“Anyway, he had to chug two Potions of Cure Disease. He caught vampirism one right after the other.” Tom laughed and wolfed down the last of his steamed vegetables. “You end up bleeding?”

Vorik arched an eyebrow and glanced at me before warily answering, “Yes.”

Tom pulled an apologetic face. “Mmm, yup. You’re a vampire now.”

“Yes! I knew it!”

“But I am Vulcan,” Vorik said over me, “How can I become a vampire from Human folklore?”

Tom shrugged. “It’s all in the coding. It’s not that you’ll become human or anything, it’s just that the aspects of vampirism will be overlaid onto your Skyrim avatar and all the buffs and debuffs will apply. Think of it like a…a filter. A vampire filter.”

“See, no that’s what I was talking about; it had a purpose. Tom had to reinterpret the original game. Making you appear to bleed was probably just the indication that you caught something, otherwise, you’d never know because we don’t really have a convenient way to check our status. And you said it was probably nothing. Everything has a reason.”

Tom nodded.

I slurped the rest of my spagetti from the bowl and pushed it aside. “You ready to go back and get cured?” I asked Vorik. I wanted to get him alone again, maybe to keep talking to him about the virus or maybe make sure he didn’t think I was being rude. But I couldn’t keep one more from coming out. “The sooner you’re cured, the sooner the UV lights will stop burning your skin.”

“Will your vampire jokes cease when I am cured?”

I smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, probably.”

“Then absolutely.”

                                                              ***

The holodeck hummed to life and the blank room started being filled with materializing objects. Vorik fidgeted with his sleeve and sure enough, once the front room of our Riften house came into focus, the bandage seeping dark green blood reappeared as well. Hopefully taking care of the vampirism would take care of the uncanny wound that was not really a wound as well.

“First thing’s first. Let’s find an apothecar—eee!” As soon as he looked at me, I recoiled back. “Vorik…your eyes…”

He barely looked like himself in the torchlight. His face was sunken and shadowed and his dark eyes had been nearly swallowed by blackness from the irises out through the whites of his eyes. Black vein-like lines spread from his sunken sockets like a sickness, reaching towards his cheekbones in a spiderweb of tendrils. I could see now how vampires could be considered completely terrifying.

“Holy shit, dude.” I reached up and grazed the side of his face with fingertips, still looking in wonder at the vampiric effects that Tom and Harry had engineered. With a horrified realization it hit me that, yes, this is what a monstrous vampire should look like to an everyday person and I understood all the horror stories.

Vorik stiffened slightly as the pads of my fingers swept his temple and with a jolt in my stomach, I realized what I was doing and pulled my hand away.

“Do… Do you feel different? You look way different. How did I not notice this before??”

“It was dark the last time we played,” Vorik answered. He strode to the washbasin and peered into the spotted mirror above it. He prodded his skin and turned his head from side to side, admiring the reflection. “The detail is rather astounding, and the effect is…unsettling.”

“You can say that again. I very suddenly don’t want to be a vampire anymore myself.”

“I do not feel different,” Vorik continued as though he were observing the results of a particularly interesting experiment. “Perhaps because the sickness hasn’t been given time to spread?”

“Or just because you aren’t in the sun yet.”

“Fascinating.”

‘Fascinating’ though it might have been, I really wanted to get him taken care of. Though I didn’t remember Skyrim vampires looking like this (so maybe the blackness around his eyes wouldn’t stay) he was starting to creep me out just being in the same room. The effect it had on me when it wasn’t just pixels, when it was suddenly someone I knew, didn’t sit right in my brain. Not to mention that I would probably be really disturbed if I had to watch him feed off NPCs to keep his powers up.

Speaking of, I wondered if this meant that joining The Companions was out of the question for me now. If vampires looked this strange, imagine what if would feel like to be a werewolf. I shivered at the thought of my skin splitting and actually sprouting hair all over my body.

Nasty.

“Sooo…” I began in a nonchalant voice, wandering to the table and picking up an apple from a wooden bowl. “Is there something you wanna say to me, maybe?”

Vorik turned the full force of his unnerving face on me and I had to physically stop myself from recoiling by clutching the back of a chair.

He sighed. “Yes, yes. I admit it. You were right. I am a vampire.”

For the first time, I noticed as he spoke that the teeth that would have been his canines if he were a primate were far longer and sharper than they had been before. “Oh shit, you’re growing fangs too, dog. Yeah, let’s get you fixed up before you start thirsting for my blood.”

His expression as I darted out the door told me that, at this moment, he didn’t need to thirst after my blood in order to want to rip my head off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If anyone actually made it all the way down here, gosh, I love you and you’re great and I appreciate you and I hope you enjoyed my nonsense.

[crazililwabbit]

Eternal Night - A Skyrim Fic

This story is part of the ‘Seal Upon Your Heart’ Series, find the timeline here.

You can find my fanfic master list here.

“Plagued by nightmares her whole life and finally free from her prison of twenty years, Vilvyni finds herself being cared for by the Dark Brotherhood’s Keeper. Will their paths reveal themselves to be more entwined than it first seems?” Cicero/OC

Rated M, for some adult themed content, language, and abuse themes.

Chapter Three - The Forced Smile

"That's five new contracts," Nazir grinned, setting down his pen and stretching his hand, "this will keep the new recruits busy."

"Good," I closed my eyes, feeling the pressure lift from my mind. I loved hearing the Night Mother in my head, but it left my physical being drained.

"Let me know if you need anything, Listener," he patted me on the shoulder before standing from his chair and heading off to find the recruits.

Erorn was still skulking around in the dining area and I didn't like the idea of being left alone with him; so I made my way up to our Matron's shrine where Cicero was busying himself setting up candles. I watched him from the small wooden bench kept by her tomb. Watching him move about I realized I had never really paid attention to his clothes until now. They were always the same; similar to a jester's motley. The red and black fabric looked as though it was once quite fine, but had faded and worn so thin in places it had needed to be patched. The soft leather gloves and boots were trimmed in what appeared to be gold thread that had long since lost its gleam. They were definitely in need of a good washing, and some repairs.

"Here you are," the light sound of Babette's voice broke through my analysis of Cicero's attire. "Mind if I sit with you?"

"No, of course not," I smiled at her. She returned my smile and sat down next to me on the bench. We both sat in silence and listened to Cicero's singing. The words were nonsense, but the tune was enchanting. I closed my eyes and listened to the melody. I could feel myself drifting into a semi-conscious state and it felt wonderful. Everything was dark and I was wrapped in warmth. I could feel the presence of the Night Mother, but this time it wasn't limited to my mind; the pressure was everywhere, but it was comforting. I knew I had slipped into some form of The Void.

"Your hair is beautiful," Babette's words pulled me from my own mind. She reached up as if to touch it. "Would you mind if I braided it?"

"Do you really want to?" I could feel the heat of blush on my cheeks, "I mean, no one has ever wanted to do anything with my hair."

"Not true," Cicero stopped singing, but didn't turn to face us, "Cicero wanted to wash and brush Flower's hair, so he did."

"When?" I asked, a little shocked.

"When he first brought Flower home," he continued to adjust candles, keeping his back to us, "her hair was so twisty and knotty, but pretty. And silver, like the stars in the night sky. Cicero always thought Mother's hair would have been silver too."

Babette laughed softly, causing Cicero to pause in his duties. Still, he didn't turn around; he returned to his tasks and resumed his singing.

"Yes," I turned to Babette, "you may braid my hair, if you would like." I sat on the floor and allowed the child, our un-child, to braid my hair while we listened to the singing of the Keeper.

"Yes! Yes!" Cicero's eyes lit up, "Un-child should braid Cicero's hair if that's all it takes to make one look so lovely!"

I laughed, imagining Cicero sitting in an irritated, hunched position while Babette happily braided his auburn hair.

Babette laughed too, "do you want to be as lovely as Vilvyni?" Babette asked between chuckles.

"Everyone should be so lucky as the Listener," he grinned wildly and poked me in the side, "she gets to hear voices in her head and be as pretty as a flower."

Babette's laughing caused her to fall to the floor, holding her sides. "Cicero, you are crazy," she sighed.

He grinned down at the small vampire. "Cicero? Crazy?" I could see a gleam of something sinister in his eyes, "that my dear un-child, is madness."

We all laughed.

Once we had all calmed down Cicero stood from the bench and turned to face us, "Cicero needs to get Mother some flowers."

"Perhaps you should take Vilvyni with you. She hasn't left the sanctuary since she got here, and before that, she hadn't been outside in a very long time," Babette nudged me, "it would do you good to get some fresh air."

"Oooohh, yes, yes, yes!" Cicero danced around in front of us, "the Listener and the Keeper out to find flowers for Mother!"

"Oh, okay," I stood up, "it would be nice to get out for a bit."

"Cicero will gather a basket and some snacks. What would the Listener like? A sweetroll? Or perhaps a carrot?" he began to hurry off without waiting for my answer.

"Have fun you two," Babette threw me a wicked smile as she wandered off towards her room.

Cicero was being very particular about the flowers to be allowed in the basket.

"Too purple," he scrunched up his face, "too short." Only about a third of the flowers I brought to him passed the inspection.

"You sure are picky," I sighed.

"Mother gets only the best and prettiest flowers," he motioned to the basket, "to please Mother, Cicero must take the best care."

"Okay," I looked around, but I had just about picked the area clean, "I am going to head up the hill a bit; I think I see some nightshade."

"Yes, yes," He waved his hand in the air, preoccupied with looking at some small blue flowers, "don't wander too far, Flower doesn't have a dagger."

"I'll stay close," I called, heading up the hill. We weren't very far from the entrance of the Sanctuary, but it was nice just to be outside in the daylight. I stopped when I got to the top of the hill and looked out at the ocean. I had only seen it once before when I was very little, and all I really remembered was being afraid of the crabs. A cold breeze blew and cut right through my light jacket. I should have dressed warmer. Wrapping my arms around myself I looked around for the nightshade I thought I had seen. I couldn't find it. However, I did notice some about five yards away and made my way towards it.

The nightshade bush was quite large. "I should be able to find at least a few stems that Cicero will like," I mumbled to myself and knelt in front of it to get a good view of the blossoms. I had only picked three flowers when I felt something hit my head, hard.

I tried to stand up, to turn around and find out what it was but my limbs were slow to respond and the pain in my head was growing. My legs gave away and I sat down, looking up I could see the dark outline of someone much larger than me.

Everything went black.

My head was killing me. I was becoming more aware of surfacing from my unconsciousness and with it the rising pain levels in my head. I tried to cover my eyes, the light in front of me was making it worse, but I couldn't move my arms. They were pinned above me, tied together by a familiar feeling.

Rope.

I shook my head, trying to clear my thinking and vision.

"Open your eyes, Listener," a mocking voice called to me, "we can't get started until you wake up."

"What's going on?" I asked, "where am I?"

"Oh, Listener, I would have thought you would know where we are," the voice teased. I recognized the voice, and I didn't like it.

My vision began to clear and when I realized where I was, my heart sank.

"Surely you recognize your old home," Erorn smiled at me. His face made my stomach turn, he looked too much like his uncle. He had smashed the table that had been left in the cave to make a large fire in the middle of the main chamber. He had me tied to the wall where Master had attached a large ring, to hang me from when I was disobedient.

"Let's get started, I waited too long for you to wake up," he made his way towards me, an ebony dagger in his hand, "first let's get rid of those clothes they gave you. You might get the wrong idea of who you are if you wear nice clothes for too long."

I looked away from him, concentrating on the small opening in the cave ceiling while I felt him cut at the dress Cicero had given me. Once it fell away I could feel the cold wall of the cave against my back, it sent shivers down my spine.

"Yes, that's how I remember you," he looked me over, greed in his eyes. "I have wanted you since I saw Cicero carry you into the Sanctuary."

"You'll never have me, Brother," I spit the last word at him, reminding him of his place.

I saw anger flare in his eyes. He covered my mouth with his hand and pressed my head against the rocks. He leaned in and whispered angrily, "You think you can save yourself, do you?" His eyes went wide. "You want to save yourself for that jester, don't you!?" he yelled in astonishment, throwing his hands up. "What? Are us Nords not good enough for the great Listener?" he bowed in an exaggerated motion, mimicking Cicero, "you prefer insane Imperials now?"

"Don't you dare mock him!" I yelled, hate burning in my veins. After everything that had been done to me, after all the suffering I had endured, for the first time, I felt a deep, abiding hatred for the eyes that Master and Erorn shared.

"You love him, don't you?" he came in close again, "well, if you love a jester, let's decorate your face to match, hmm?" He pressed the tip of his dagger into the skin just below my left eye and pulled it down my cheek, stopping about an inch above my mouth. The blood ran down my neck, hot and thick. Then he mirrored the line above my eye, starting just below my eyebrow and dragging the dagger up my forehead. I clenched my teeth as he matched my right eye to my left one. I had learned after years of painful punishment that crying out only gave them more pleasure.

He took a step back to admire his work, "what? No smile?" He laughed, "you can't have a jester without a smile."

"Fuck you," I spit blood at him.

"Oh, my dear," he grabbed my jaw, forcing my mouth open. He placed the dagger in my mouth, pressing it against the inside of my cheek, "if you won't smile for me, I'll just have to make you." In one motion he split my cheek open from the corner of my mouth to where my jaw connected.

I couldn't keep my scream inside. The pain was unbearable.

"Still no smile?" he pressed my head back again, placing the dagger back in my mouth, splitting my other cheek as well.

I allowed my head to hang down, resting my chin on my chest, through the tears I could see my blood pouring down my bare torso.

"Don't you see, stupid Dunmer bitch," he was cleaning his blade, "no matter what people tell you, no matter how much prestige you are given," He took a handful of my hair and pulled my head back up, "you will always be shit, because that's all you Dunmer are, shit."

I stared into his eyes and felt the hate in my veins grow. I could feel heat rising from beneath my skin.

"What the...?" he released my hair and took a step back.

"You forget one thing about Dunmer," I wanted to smile, to show him how pleased I was with what was coming, but his cuts had severed my muscles. I would have to be satisfied with the fear in his eyes.

"You can't," his eyes widened, "you're a half-breed. You shouldn't be able to…"

I screamed as my skin erupted in fire, it billowed out from me, catching him and throwing him back into the fire he had built. Through the roar of the flames, I could hear him scream as he was burned alive. The fire had burned through my ropes, releasing me. I fell to the ground; the cave around me blackened with scorch marks.

I slowly pushed myself up; I stumbled out into the night air. For the second time I left this cave covered in blood, but this time it was mine. I had no idea how to get back to the Sanctuary or how far away I had been taken. Surely they would be looking for me. I kept walking, holding my face, trying to stop the bleeding.

I could feel my legs weaken before I fell to my knees, but I didn't want to remove my hands from my face long enough to catch myself. That's when I heard my name.

"Vilvyni!" it was distant, but I could hear it.

"Here," I gasped as loudly as I could without opening my mouth. I stood and tried to make my way towards the voice. I could hear the pounding of hooves against the ground as the horse and rider got closer.

"Here!" I called again, opening my mouth partially. I cried out in pain and fell to the ground again.

"I found her!" I heard Nazir bellow, "Over here!"

He dismounted and pulled a blanket from under his horse's saddle, "by Sithis, what happened?" he wrapped it around my shoulders.

"Erorn," I breathed.

Babette quickly joined us. "Here, let me see," she crouched next to me. "I don't see any wounds on your body, where is all this blood coming from?" She looked at my face. "Move your hands," she pulled lightly on my wrists and I let my hands fall away.

"Sweet Mother," Nazir breathed.

"Listener!" I heard Cicero scream as his horse ran up. It reared back, whinnying at the sudden stop. He jumped from its back and came barreling towards us.

"Cicero! Don't touch her!" Babette screamed at him.

Worry flooded his face and he froze in his tracks. "Bad? No. No. No!" Cicero covered his face, "Cicero only just found the Listener!" He stomped around in a circle like a child throwing a fit.

"We need to get her home before she bleeds out," Babette told him, "you're the fastest rider. I want you to take her back to the Sanctuary. In my room there are healing potions, give her one and lay her down. I need you to wrap her face if I don't get there before then." She was pulling the blanket tighter around me as she looked me in the eyes, "riding the horse will hurt, but you need to get back as soon as possible."

I nodded and returned my hands to my face before Cicero could see.

"Cicero will be like the wind!" he leaned down and scooped me up like I weighed nothing, "Cicero won't fail the Listener!"

Babette wasn't wrong, the ride was excruciating, but Cicero wasn't wrong either and the ride there was swift.

Cicero carried me towards the large black door.

"What is life's…" it began.

"Innocence!" Cicero yelled impatiently, "innocence, intolerance, incognizance!"

"…greatest illusion?" the door finished.

"INNOCENCE!" Cicero screamed.

"Welcome home, Brother," the door sighed and opened.

"Stupid," Cicero kicked the door and carried me inside. Cursing the door most of the way he carried me down the spiral steps to our room. He placed me on the bed, wrapping the blanket around my shoulders again.

"Wait here," he patted my legs lightly, "I will be right back." He hurried out of the room.

When he returned he was carrying a small red vial, "Flower must drink this. The un-child said it will help."

I shook my head, my hands still covering my cheeks.

"Please," he begged on his knees before the bed I was sitting on, "let Cicero see your wounds." He placed the vial on the bed next to me and reached for my hands. I pulled away.

"What?" he asked softly, "is it my gloves?" He pulled them off, "there, only Cicero's hands now."

Slowly, I lowered my hands.

"Dear Mother," he gasped, his eyebrows knitting together, "how the Listener must suffer." He picked up the vial again, "I am sorry, but Flower must drink this."

I tried to cover my cheeks again, but he lightly placed his free hand on mine. "Cicero will be gentle," I let him hold my hands in his and nodded.

"Lean your head back and open as wide as you can," he squeezed my hands, "be ready to swallow."

I closed my eyes and did as he asked. The pain was almost more than I could bear. The bitter liquid hit the back of my throat and I almost choked before swallowing it. I was grateful when the pain relief was almost instant.

"Good," he smiled at me, “good.” He placed the vial back on the bed and took my hands in each of his, rubbing his thumbs over the backs of mine. "Cicero will go get bandages and wrap your wounds until the un-child returns to mend them."

I covered my face again as I watched him leave. Once he was gone I allowed the tears I had been fighting to fall.

@iwantthedean, @goldenangelbloodcastiel