#azirina

[ask-demon-princess-astarte]

So.....I realised I missed a trick. Thanks to some of my friends, I was reminded that Evening Star was the month that had Molag Bal's summoning day. So, here's something I wrote for that.

Trigger warnings for Gore, Violence and Molag being, well, Molag.

Everything had to be perfect. She had to ensure it was perfect. If even the slightest thing was wrong, it was her head. After all, today was her husband's summoning day. 

She moved rapidly through the halls, rushing to where the altar was. In her arms was something wrapped in a cloth. The tools to be used to inflict maximum agony. Screams echoed around her as she moved, her feet padding silently along the floor as she rushed by. 

"My lady, you have the items?" A robed priest asked. 

"This one has gathered all we need. These sacrifices better be worthy." She added as she placed the weapons upon the altar. She unravelled them from the cloth, the ebony weapons glinting in the blue flames. 

"Of course, your majesty. Only the finest for our lord." The chief priest said, bowing to her. Azirina rolled her eyes before moving. She held her staff, murmuring in an unknown tongue. Her eyes glowed as she chanted before slamming her staff into the ground. 

The earth cracked and tore itself asunder as light burst through it. It raised upwards, circling on itself as it formed a portal. On the other side, Molag Bal watched from his throne. 

Ah, my bride He grinned as she bowed before him. 

"Master, this one offers these sacrifices to you on your summoning day. May the blood spilled honour your name." She said before standing and moving to a throne set aside for her.

The first sacrifice, a powerful Nord was dragged forward. He fought against his chains for every final moment as a priest stepped forward, picking up a long, thin blade from the ones on the altar. The nord was held in place, despite his best attempts as the blade was forced into his eye, drawing a blood curdling yell. Other worshippers came forward, picking up weapons and beginning their torture. The nord screamed as his bones were broken, his teeth pulled, his tongue cut and his extremities removed. 

Enough. Spill his blood. Molag ordered, watching intently as the Nord's throat was cut so deep, his head nearly came off, blood spurting across the altar in thick, red pulses. 

A copper scent filled the air as the first victim was cast aside. The second, an Altmer woman, was pulled forward. She shrieked as she was forced onto the altar and her hands were bound behind her back. A thin needle with a thick rope was forced behind the tendons of her heels. She wailed as several argonian slaves pulled on the rope, lifting her up and hanging her upside down. A horrific, curved blade was brought forward, making her sob as they began to flay her skin from her bones, unveiling steaming muscles and organs as she wept and begged for mercy. Her life was ended by a blade to her exposed heart. 

As each sacrifice was dragged forward, through the chains that coiled around her heart, Azirina could feel the bloodlust her husband held being sated. But there was another thing she noticed. He had not picked a victim to sate another desire. 

"Master, are you not going to select one who could become a daughter of ColdHarbour?" She asked, keeping her head down. 

Now, why would I need that when my bride is present? Those were the words she had been afraid of. She had not endured many summoning days after coming of age, but those she had seen had always ended the same way. She just prayed that this time would be different.

By the time night fell, the altar room was filled with the scent of meat, fear, blood and death. As the last sacrifice, a Dunmer man, collapsed to the ground with his intestines coiled around a stone pillar, her body trembled.

He had not picked a sacrifice to be a daughter. He had not selected one to sate that other lust. Her eyes remained fixed ahead, staring at the wall before her as she gulped silently. The summoning days were always the worst. He was never gentle, it was not in his nature. But something about this day made it so much worse. 

"We trust you are pleased with the offerings, my lord." The priest said, drawing her attention briefly. 

An excellent harvest. You have done well and will be rewarded. Molag growled as he stood from his throne. The high the scent of the blood gave him pulsed through her chains as she gulped. When his bloodlust was sated by glorious deaths, that was when he usually sought her. 

"Your majesty?" One of the robed worshippers murmured. Her body trembled so badly, her armour rattled. It was drawing attention to her.

Ah, my bride trembles in anticipation for me. Molag growled as he appeared in a cloud of creeping darkness, the shadows scuttling over the walls of the room. The worshippers fell back in fear that their lord now stood before them. He turned to face her, the chains manifesting in his grip. 

"Master, please. Could we not wait?" She pleaded as she stepped back. 

Oh, but why waste time? Look at how you tremble with desire. He grinned wickedly as he began to drag her forward, her paws slipping on the blood soaked floor. 

"Master, please! We can find another sacrifice. One you could make into a daughter of ColdHarbour. One who would....." She cried out as she was easily lifted with one hand and slammed down onto the slick altar, her armour screeching against it.

Enough, Azirina. He snarled, making her pause. He only used her name when she angered him. She whimpered as he reached for the skirts of her dress. 

"Then send them away!" She cried. "They do not deserve to see you in all your glory! They are unworthy!" She exclaimed, pointing at the worshippers. He looked back at them, white hues unreadable as the only sounds were blood dripping and her trembling pants for breath. 

Very well. Leave now, mortals. Lest you face the wrath of the mighty Molag Bal! He roared as he stormed forward, stepping on the head priest who had been too slow to get out of the way. As he moved, she went to sneak back through the portal.

And where are you going? She gasped as her chains tripped her, her claws gouging great lines of earth up as she fought back. 

 "Master please! Not again! This one is....."

 The perfect bride. Come now, let us do as wedded couples do. He laughed as he pulled her back to the altar, pinning her to it as she fought and kicked at him. Ah, there's that fight. This is why no one else will match you. They don't fight like you do. How I adore watching it break as I take you. He growled low in his throat, fangs glistening as he raked them over her neck. 

 "Please, master. Do not do this." She whispered as those evil white hues fixed on icy blue eyes. 

 Oh, do keep begging. It makes you taste so much sweeter.

[reachfolk]

So, I only just started to follow you but I couldn't resist when I saw your main girl. I just love her. So, I'm curious as to how she would be with my Skyrim Gal.

Azirina Kharabbi is a Suthay-raht Khajiit (basically a baby) who is 21 years old and also has the nickname "Moon-Chaser", along with a few other names she chooses to ignore. She came to Skyrim at the age of twelve, having escaped the destruction of her village, ran across the deserts of Elsweyr (chasing the moons) and boarding a ship, giving her alot of trauma. She travelled across Skyrim with one of the many Khajiit caravans until the discovery that she was the last Dragonborn.

She's a sassy little fireball, who is nicknamed "Sabre Kitten" by Farkas (who I paired her with). This is due to the fact she looks as adorable and as timid as a kitten, but will not hesitate to rip your kneecaps out should you insult her or a loved one. That being said, she was easily startled to begin with when she joined the companions, and suffered horrendously with an addiction whilst aiding them. She also keeps a key point of her past secret, trying to hide it from everyone, with the only way to find out about it being seeing a mark on her shoulder.

ask game: send me an ask telling me about one of your oc's and i'll tell you how i think they'd get along with my own oc's (OPEN)

aaa thank you so much, you're so sweet !! i love your oc too omg, the nicknames moon chaser and saber kitten are perfect. i do think alexi would like her but again, alexi is just full of love so that's not surprising lol. i'm gonna actually put this under a read more because god, i just have SO much to say !! i hope you don't mind 😅

alexi travelled all across skyrim as well, both when she was living with her family and after she left home. while a lot of nords, especially nobles, think pretty negatively of khajiit, alexi grew up in a more liberal household where such nonsense wasn't tolerated at all. she and her siblings definitely kept tabs on whether any caravans were visiting town and made a point to check them out every time. anyway, this is a long winded way of saying all three of my silver-blood kiddos almost definitely ran into azirina plenty of times, including when they were young!

azirina is six years younger than alexi, which is around the same age as robin and marceline (alex's siblings). i really like the idea that azirina's caravan visited markarth when she was around thirteen and alexi was nineteen. the three siblings probably took one look at azirina and collectively were like, "new friend? new friend!!" and swept her up into their group immediately. partly because she's just a cutie, but also they've never met a kid at the caravans! of course they're interested in getting to know her!

there's this weird unspoken rule in skyrim about khajiit caravaners entering cities, but given the silver-bloods' status, i think the guards would turn a blind eye to most of what they do. so, if azirina accepts, the siblings would definitely want her to come inside the walls and hang out with them while she's in town. they usually get up to some pretty ridiculous shit (messing with town guards, stupid dares about stealing from the jarl, the kind of stuff only rich kids can get away with if they get caught, y'know?), but i think alexi would be smart enough to know not to get this kid into that kinda trouble, so they tone it down when they're hanging out with azirina. they'd buy her a nice meal and show her the pretty spots around town and play games with her (tag and hide-and-seek are classics, but they also would try to rope her into a game of potion roulette at some point, as a bunch of rowdy ass kids with too much access to their auntie's alchemy supplies are wont to do 💀)

of course, how open azirina is with them is up to you, but the kids would try to make her feel as comfortable and welcome as possible. i feel like after everything the poor girl went through, it would be good for her to have some kids her age around her, especially in a place like skyrim which can be really harsh to khajiit.

edit: OK my 🤡 ass accidentally posted this before i got all my thoughts out so i hope it's ok if i keep going!!

so even if azirina doesn't really open up to the gang early on, they'd be understanding and patient. they might prod a little into her story early on, but if it ever gets uncomfortable for her, they'd back off. i think what would make the atmosphere comfortable is the fact that they always leave room for her to join in and feel heard but they don't pressure her to, y'know?

i don't doubt they'd run into each other for a few days every couple of months, whenever their travels happen to bring them together. usually at markarth, but often times in other cities like solitude, riften, or whiterun which the silver-blood kiddos often visit.

after a few years of this, alexandria leaves home. she's around 22 at the time, and her siblings are 17. assuming azirina kept in contact with them, i'm really curious how you think she'd handle seeing the tensions that would've caused in her friends' lives. i could write a whole ass thesis on this family and how complicated their lives are, especially after alexi leaves, so i won't bore you with the details. but i am curious to hear your thoughts more abt this !!

like how do you think azirina feels about the silver-blood siblings befriending her? does she play along or does it take time for her to open up, if she ever does? would she envy how (seemingly) perfect their family is after she lost hers in such a tragic way? how does her attitude change as she learns more about how they aren't really such a put together family?

i have so many questions!! i'm sorry i went on for so long but i really like azirina and i'd love to know more about her. i feel like there's so much room for really interesting relationships between her and all three siblings. and this is just scratching the surface!! this isn't even getting into her addiction, or what that secret she's keeping is, or whether she and alexi would go off on any adventures together when they're older. there's so much!!

[the-videodame]

sketch commission for @ask-demon-princess-astarte of their khajiit Azirina! she was so fun to draw, and im super happy with how it came out. thank you so much for commissioning me!

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follow me on twitter!

commission info!

[obsidian-dovahkiin]

Who says immortals can’t have friends?

In Apocrypha, a large tree resided in the centre of the realm. Very few were ever able to get close to this tree and there was a lot of speculation about its purpose. The truth? It was essentially Obsidian Mora’s home. Many wondered where the great god of the realm disappeared off to from time to time, unaware that she was still in the realm.

Settling into her new role required a great amount of patience and acceptance from those around her, but she managed it eventually. One of the major struggles was if she should change her appearance. Appearing as a mass amount of tentacles did have its appeal, however, she decided to keep her look, however with a new twist. 

Obsidian was sat at a beautiful desk which was placed near the top of the tree, near her bed. She didn’t need to sleep, but she still liked being able to lay down on one every now and then. She pushed a strand of loose hair behind her new horns, before sighing and laying back in her seat. She was currently reading a book on Morrowind, lest she forgot what her home truly felt like. Having an identity crisis was the last thing she needed. 

Her family tended to come and go, but they all still visited her as much as they could. Some of the other Princes did the same, happy that Mora had finally gone, others despised her for it. She didn’t really care. 

The quiet ambience of the wind rustling leaves and small Daedric birds chirping merrily away was broken by a small cough. Obsidian turned around to see who was disturbing her before smiling. One of the Seekers bought her a letter, the seal instantly cheering her up. It was from Azirina. 

[skyrim-crossing]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Skyrim, Elder Scrolls Online, Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls Online Summerset Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Obsidian/Serana, Obsidian/Hefdet, Serana/Hefdet, F!Dragonborn/Serana, Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Serana, Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Serana, Daedra Character(s)/Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn, Obsidian/Aranaga Characters: Obsidian Dovahkiin, Serana (Elder Scrolls), Hermaeus Mora, Original Dremora Character(s), Original Male Dremora Character(s) (Elder Scrolls), Female Dunmer Dovahkiin | Dragonborn, Female Dunmer Vestige, Male Altmer Vestige, Molag Bal, Boethiah (Elder Scrolls), Ashlander(s) (Elder Scrolls), Lord Harkon, Volkihar Vampire(s), Azirina, Female Khajiit Dovahkiin | Dragonborn Series: Part 1 of Obsidian Dovahkiin Summary:

This is the backstory and general story of my OC Obsidian Dovahkiin. Aranaga belongs to @warlockin-asimplealtmer and Azirina belongs to @ask-demon-princess-astarte

[afronaruto]

Oli im so sorry u and izzy had to go thru all these ridiculous fucking discourse again and again 😔 here im giving you good vibes and kisses 😘😘😘💓💓💓💓

THANK U AZIRINA  mwah mwah!!!!! don’t worry !!!!

[ask-demon-princess-astarte]

I don't know if I will do every day of this but I figured it wouldn't hurt. Plus it helps inspire my desire for writing again, which has suffered recently. Not a long piece but here is Day One: Cozy for @tescheer and the 25 days of TESCheer prompts.

Much like the nights of the desert, the northern cities in Skyrim were freezing. Flurries of snow billowed around the caravan, the wind howling like a beast as the blizzard roared on. Azirina poked her head out of the tent briefly before ducking back inside. Even in the few moments she was exposed, her ears felt frozen and snow covered her head. She shook her head, watching snow cascade from her hair and down to the floor.

"Little moon-chaser, what did this one say?" A voice chided her softly. She looked up, her ears going flat as a taller Khajiit walked over to her. She looked down briefly.

"To not leave the tent." She replied. "But, this one did not leave the tent, Jo'yla. She only stuck her head out for the briefest of moments."

"A brief moment is all that is needed to let the warmth out during a blizzard, little moon-chaser." Jo'yla countered as she closed the entrance back up. "And all that is needed to damage your ears. Come now, warm yourself by the fire whilst this one makes us dinner." Azirina watched the older female disappear to another part of the tent before approaching the closed fire pit.

Warmth radiated from it, wrapping her in a gentle embrace as she approached. She stood before it, holding her hands out to warm them by the flames. The contrast may have been startling to some, but her time in the desert had taught her how comforting the flickering flames could be against the cold. She stared into them, watching them lick against the metal of the pit when something suddenly engulfed her.

She jolted, letting out a small yelp before looking back. Jo'yla chuckled as she pulled the blanket from her head and wrapped it around the small Khajiit.

"Khajiit should always be prepared for the cold." She smiled as she crouched before Azirina. She held a mug out to her, stirring a spoon within it briefly to mix the honey into the milk. "Do not forget to blow on it." She added as she stood. Azirina watched her head back to the little kitchen before raising the mug. She blew on it briefly before taking a sip of the warm milk. It slipped down her throat and curled in her stomach, warm fingers stretching out through her body.

With the blanket around her and the warm drink in her hands, she found the cold had been chased away. Her ears flicked back and forth as she heard the wind howling outside. The blizzard raged on around them. But inside the tent, all was warm and comfortable. And not even the snow outside could remove this feeling. She smiled softly as she looked back into the flames. A feeling of comfort and warmth embraced her, reminding her of those cozy nights, curled up beside her mother as her father told her stories. That feeling, whilst not exactly the same, was returning.

For the first time since she fled Elsweyr, Azirina Kharabbi felt like she was home.

[ask-demon-princess-astarte]

Day 12 today. The prompt is dreams for @tescheer. So, this one I am going to add a trigger warning to. Whilst there is no specific details, please be aware there are references to death and murder in this story at the beginning.

She had been plagued with nightmares since that night. The night her tribe was slain by the Thalmor. Every night would be the same. Burning tents, screams and shadows running past her. The copper scent thick in the air. And it would always end with her jolting awake, her body drenched in sweat.

However, since meeting Farkas, her dreams had begun to change. Where once, horrific nightmares haunted her, new dreams took their place. She dreamt of her wedding, his calloused hands holding hers as his lips ghosted her own. She dreamt of their family, the laughter of the children as she played games with them. She dreamt of the companions welcoming her as one of their own.

Of course, she still had the occasional nightmare. But, when these dreams arose with soft whimpers and rapid breaths, his arm would wrap around her and pull her close. One moment in his arms, embraced in his warmth and inhaling his scent, and her pleasant dreams took over.

As she sat, contemplating this, Azirina found herself wondering why it was this way. She could never settle on one answer though. It seemed that, Farkas was making all her dreams come true. She paused, midway through kneading the dough for the sweet rolls as she considered it. A soft smile pulled on her lips as the truth appeared before her.

What she dreamt of now, was what she always wanted. What had once been lost to her. A family, loved ones to hold onto, even when all seemed lost. She laughed to herself before getting back to work on making the sweet rolls. Many people dreamed of going on adventure or finding fame and fortune. But not Azirina. She dreamed of being a wife, a mother.

And her dreams had come true.

[ask-demon-princess-astarte]

So, here is day 11 for @tescheer's prompt list. The prompt for this day was kiss. I had trouble deciding with this one then figured I would go with Azirina and Farkas. Do enjoy.

Azirina and Farkas walked through Whiterun, his hand holding hers gently as they did so. Her fingers intertwined with his, her soft fur a pleasant sensation against the thick calluses of his hands. She looked back at him, giving him as soft smile as they walked together.

"Where are we going, love?" He asked her as she pulled him towards the city gate.

"This one wishes to gaze at the stars with you, my moon." She replied, turning back to face him. She stood up on her toes, pressing her forehead against his for a moment. "Can we do this?" She murmured.

"If we are quiet and quick, then yes." He responded, his eyes looking into those blue oceans of hers. She smiled, taking his hand again and leading him out of the city. They crossed the tundra for a brief moment, heading towards a nearby rocky outcrop, away from the noise. She clambered up onto the rocks, her gaze drawn skywards as the stars glowed like dying embers above them.

"So beautiful." She murmured. But Farkas found his gaze drawn to her. In the light of the Moons and stars, she looked otherworldly. Her grey fur, softer than a feather, seemed to glow in the faint light, the darker stripes amongst it clear to see. But it was her blue eyes that captivated him. An icy blue that he found himself getting lost in, but they were so full of warmth and joy. She turned to face him, large ears flicking back and forth.

In the glow of Masser and Secunda, Farkas took his chance. He leant forward, pressing his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. Their eyes were closed, the only sensation being the gentle touch where they met. When he pulled back, he noticed her hands on his armour's chest plate.

"I'm sorry." He began. "But it felt right and I...." He paused as she placed a finger to his lips.

"This one wants you to know you took her first kiss." She began, standing up on her toes to lean closer to him again. "And she hopes it will not be our last." She whispered before pressing her lips to his again.

In the light of the stars and the moons, out in the peace of the tundra, Farkas and Azirina shared a kiss. With many more to follow as the days went on.

[ask-demon-princess-astarte]

Day 6 of the prompts list by @tescheer. Another shorter one today but, again, why drag it out unnecessarily. Today's prompt was Scarf.

"Dovahkiin, I have a gift for you." Her ears flicked upright as someone called on her. She had been walking through the market of Skyrim, her arms wrapped around herself to fight the cold wind that blew through the square. Farkas paused, a few steps ahead of her. Her cloak, which she had been wearing, was wrapped around Lucia and Blaise to shield them from the biting wind.

"Olfina, this one told you to call her by her name." She chided softly, even as her teeth chattered briefly.

"I know, but it doesn't feel right." Olfina countered before holding the item out. "Here. I crafted this for you." Azirina tilted her head as she took the parcel, carefully unwrapping it before pausing. A long scarf, large enough to wrap around her neck and ears, unfurled in her grasp. It was a delicate grey that worked beautifully with her fur. But what really caught her attention was the dragons that had been embroiled into it.

"You made this?" She asked softly.

"I heard you mentioning how cold your ears get. And I thought this would help." Olfina explained, watching her nervously. Azirina simply smiled and wrapped the scarf around her neck and ears. Immediately, the cold wind eased, blocked partially by the thick material.

"This one loves it. Thank you." She grinned. Olfina laughed before heading back towards the Bannered Mare. Azirina watched before turning and joining Farkas, taking his hand as they walked back to Breezehome. The biting wind view through the streets again. But her new scarf kept her warm from the icy cold weather.

Something she was absolutely delighted by.

[ask-demon-princess-astarte]

Did I totally forget to post this on day 10? Yes, yes I did. But, I was working on both day 10 and 11 so I didn't get much chance to write. And yet, I digress, here we have the day 10 prompt Snowfall for @tescheer.

Snow drifted down from the sky. Tiny, perfect diamonds of cold falling like shooting stars to the ground. And through the whirling flurries, a small Khajiit child stood watching them, blue eyes wide with wonder at the beauty surrounding her. 

 "Azirina!" A voice called, making the child turn. "Come back to the tent! You will catch your death out here!" Jo'yla shouted from the entry to the tent she shared with Azirina. 

 "This one wanted to see the snow." Azirina replied as she ran back to Jo'yla, slipping slightly on the snow. 

 "Have you never seen it before, little moon-chaser?" Jo'yla asked, brushing some of the snow from Azirina's hair, the white flakes fluttering to the ground. 

 "Never. The tribe this one belonged to lived in the desert. Snow was not something we ever encountered." She replied, shaking her head to cast the snow off of her. She shivered, her tunic damp from the melted snowflakes. 

 "By the Moons, little Moon-Chaser, you are freezing. Come by the fire and warm yourself before the cold settles in, yes?" Jo'yla insisted, pushing the little kitten towards a fire pit. She sat Azirina in front of it before heading off to another part of the tent. 

 She soon returned with a fresh tunic for the child, along with a bottle filled with milk and a jar of honey. 

 "Here, get changed little one." Jo'yla insisted as she poured the milk into a metal pot above the fire. Azirina nodded  before pulling off her damp clothing. As she changed, Jo'yla sighed when she saw the damned brand upon the child's back. The brand that was the reason why she had chased the moons across barren sands and crossed oceans to end up in this frozen land. 

 "Jo'yla, can this one go out and see the snow again?" Azirina asked as she finished getting changed. 

 "We will watch it from the entrance together." Jo'yla replied as she stirred the milk. When it began to steam, she took the pot off the fire, pouring some into a mug before stirring in a large spoonful of honey into the drink. She handed it to Azirina before hanging the damp clothes up to dry. 

 As she did, Azirina moved back over to the flap of the tent. She exhaled on her drink before taking a sip. She watched the snow falling from the sky, torrents of white diamonds dancing and spiralling down to the ground. She watched in awe as Jo'yla approached, wrapping an arm around her as they watched. 

 "It is so pretty." She murmured, eyes sparkling like stars above her. 

 "It is, little moon-chaser. And you will see so much more of it as we walk across these lands." Jo'yla said.

 "Really?" She gasped. 

 "This one guarantees it, little one. Skyrim is known for many things. And snow is one of them." 

[ask-demon-princess-astarte]

So, another short piece today for the prompt for @tescheer. But that's by-the-by. Today's prompt was Merry, so I thought I would show how Azirina managed to find some merriment during her time in ColdHarbour. And what better way then by hearing of a certain incident.

There was not much to be merry about, in the lands of ColdHarbour. Azirina had soon learned this since arriving here. This was the realm of Molag Bal. A sphere of domination, not of joy. But, she did try her hardest to find something to perk up her spirits when she felt upset. And the best medicine for it was the mad soul shriven, Sir Cadwell.

She laughed happily as he spouted some insane rhyme, strumming a lute tunelessly to his words. Brak'aath stood nearby, guarding their future queen as she listened to the old soul. It was a strange thing though. Hearing the sound of merriment amongst the usual sounds of the realm. A shriek of laughter made him pause, turning slightly as she clapped her hands together.

"Please, Sir Cadwell, tell this one another story." She asked happily, her smile beaming like light from the hollow city as she looked at him.

"Another?" The old soul shriven asked as he put the lute down. "Hmm, how about the Seat of tyranny rude cushion incident?" Brak'aath jolted slightly when he realised.

"Your majesty, we should be leaving. It is getting late." He said, reaching forward.

"Just one more story, please Brak'aath. This one wishes to hear about this incident." She pleaded, icy blue eyes fixed on the Daedra. He sighed when he realised he had no choice, letting the pot-wearing soul shriven explain.

"You see, my dear, a long time ago, a Dremora by the name of Xykenaz decided to play a prank. He placed a cushion that would make a rude noise on the seat of tyranny. As you can imagine, that didn't go down well with Molag Bal, who banished him to a nano plane." Brak'aath didn't hear the end of Cadwell's explanation as Azirina started laughing.

Tears streamed down her face as she held her sides. She was the picture of merriment as she howled with laughter. And it proved infectious as Brak'aath found himself chuckling with her. Their master's rage over the incident, along with the incident itself, was legendary in the realm. And few chose to bring it up as it was still a relatively sore spot.

However, when the future queen was laughing as hard as she was, it was hard not to join in her merriment. The three of them cackled together at the thought, with her merriment still clear when they returned to Heart's Grief. She had a smile filled with such joy on her face that Brak'aath felt something shift within him.

Such merriment was rare in the lands of ColdHarbour. But he would do everything to protect it for her.

[ask-demon-princess-astarte]

Looks like I am doing all of these. I can't resist. There are some really good prompts. Today is Day Two: Believe for @tescheer.

It was a question that had shadowed her for a few moons now. Something that someone had asked in passing, not even to her, and yet it consumed her. What did she believe in? She frowned as she looked up at the stormy skies of ColdHarbour, laying on Vulon's back.

"What does this one believe in?" She repeated again. Vulon made a curious noise, raising his head slightly. She turned her head to look at him, rolling onto her front. "Sorry to disturb you, sweet Vulon. This one was merely thinking out loud." She explained, stroking the Daedric Titan's head. He rumbled in response as she continued to ponder the question.

Her soldiers believed in her. She was their queen who would lead them to victory. Her "husband" believed she was the key piece in his plans to merge the realms together. There were those in Nirn who believed her to be the devil. A foul evil sent to curse them. The bride of a monster. But what did she believe? She frowned and sat up, lifting her head to lol at the sky.

"What is there for this one to believe?" She asked no one in particular.

"Have you tried believing in yourself?" A new voice startled her, making her jump and slip slightly from her spot. Vulon moved in an instant, raising his wings to shield her from a fall. He growled at the stranger with a pot on his head, baring his fangs at the soul shriven as she straightened herself.

"Sir Cadwell, what are you talking about?" She asked the mad soul shriven.

"Your question, my dear. If you can't think of anything or anyone else to believe in, why not believe in the only one you have been able to rely on. Yourself." He explained. She paused, blinking briefly as his words sunk in.

"You may have provided a moment of clarity to this one's raging thoughts." She noted. He simply chuckled in response.

"Just as you provided a breath of fresh air, my dear. Why, I still remember the day we first met, you barely reached my hip and that was only because of those ears of yours." He chuckled. "How things change. Well, I best be off. Those Xivkyn won't wind themselves up. Jolly good speaking to you, queen Kharabbi. Ta ta." He waved before vanishing from before her.

"That soul shriven is madness incarnate." She murmured as Vulon rumbled beneath her. "Yet, he raises a marvellous point, doe he not?" She added as she petted Vulon's head. He got to his feet and began to walk back towards Heart's Grief. As he did, she smiled softly.

"This one believes in herself." She paused as a grumble sounded from beneath her. "And, of course, she believes in you, sweet Vulon." She laughed as he let out a low growl, stroking his neck as he took flight. Her mind was clearer now. She had something she had not had since her childhood.

She had something to believe in.

[ask-demon-princess-astarte]

The moth and the cat

So, this is a little something for a friend of mine, @mothkingtv, for their birthday. The character Alessandre belongs to them, Azirina and Brak'aath are mine. Hope you enjoy.

"HEY! STOP THAT THIEF!" Shouts echoed all around her as she ran away, her arms filled with the food she had managed to steal from the mead hall. Hands reached out to grab her, but her small stature meant she could slip through them easily, weaving and twisting as she sprinted, her claws skittering across the dusty ground of Raven's Rock.

"Someone get that cat!" The bar owner yelled as guards chased her. She glanced back, grinning when she saw the ever increasing distance between them.

"Close the gates!" A guard cried, but it was too late. She slipped through the gates, sprinting down the road as fast as her legs could carry her. She turned, her tail flicking to counter her weight, and sprinted into the dunes surrounding the city until the sounds of shouting and rattling armour could not be heard.

"Well, this one has not felt so alive in quite a while." She laughed, tossing a sweet roll up into the air before catching it. She bit into the baked good as she walked, sunlight dappling the ash-covered ground around her. She didn't know exactly where she was, but she knew it was Nirn. The air smelled different and there wasn't an overwhelming sense of despair hanging over her.

"It is simply a shame that poor Brak'aath must suffer in order for this one to do this." She murmured as she took another bite. It had taken alot of begging and large eyes before she had convinced the Daedra to assist her.

"Your majesty must remain in the realm. Those were master's orders." Her bodyguard had sighed as he walked with her.

"This one will only be gone for a short while, Brak'aath. And she never knows when she will get another chance like this." She had argued.

"But master....."

"Will be none the wiser for it, provided you keep this a secret." She had finished. "Please Brak'aath, for this one?" She asked, her eyes wide as she looked at him. He looked away, his arms folded before surrendering.

"Fine. But I will not take responsibility for when master finds out." He said, pointing at her. She laughed before hugging him, making him pause.

"Thank you Brak'aath." She grinned before running off to find the spell book she needed.

Her ears twitched as she heard something moving nearby. Holding the sweet roll in her mouth, she summoned fire to her hand, ready to attack. Only to pause when a young Nord emerged from over the dunes. He froze when he saw her, looking her up and down before his gaze hardened.

"Did they send you out to find me, cat?" He snapped, sliding down the dune to stand before her. She shook her head, shaking her hand to end the spell before tilting her head to one side. The sweet roll was still in her mouth as he walked around her, her arms shifting slightly to better support the food she held.

"Never saw you in the house I served in. So, which one do you serve?" He demanded. "There's no way a Khajiit would be here if they didn't serve one of the houses." He stated before pausing when she continued to look at him. "Do you even know what I am saying?" She raised a hand, taking a bite of the sweet roll before holding the remaining half out to him.

"This one is not a slave, in the traditional sense." She began. "She is merely here visiting, whilst her husband is busy with other plans."

"Husband? How old are you?" The Nord asked her, taking the sweet roll before devouring it quickly.

"This one is sixteen years old." She replied as she looked at him. "Is it not common for females to have husbands at such a age?" She asked, not realising it was odd.

"You're not sixteen." He insisted suddenly. "You're so small. There's no way you could.....OW!" He yelled out as she slapped him, her claws catching his flesh.

"This one is not that much shorter than you!" She snapped before tilting her head. "And surely, one should introduce themselves before insulting another, yes?" She asked. "This one is Azirina Kharabbi." She bowed before him.

"I'm Alessandre." He replied, rubbing his arm where she had caught him. She tilted her head before holding out some of the food to him.

"Here. You appear to need this more than this one." She said, watching as he grabbed some of the meat she had stolen. He sat on a nearby rock, tearing into the food with a ferocity she had only seen in starving daedroths. She moved to sit beside him, her ears going flat as blue eyes locked onto him, pausing when she saw a brand.

"Ah, you've seen it?" He asked.

"You bear the mark of Molag Bal?" She replied, reaching towards it. "How?"

"It was branded onto me by one of those bastards who kidnapped me. They wanted to sacrifice me to him. Said it would start something." Alessandre explained as he ate some more of the food.

"The second planemeld?" She asked, watching him nod.

"How do you...."

AZIRINA! They both jumped as a voice roared out across the sky, anger booming like thunder. She was on her feet in an instant, her own mark burning.

"He has found this one." She gasped before turning and going to flee, only to be tripped by the chains around her heart. She scrambled to get to her feet as a portal opened nearby, a large, clawed hand reaching out. It grabbed her legs, starting to drag her back.

There you are, kitten. I told you to stay in the palace.

"Master, no! Please! This one just wanted to see Nirn! She did not disobey!" Her claws tore into the earth, leaving gouges within the dust from the red mountain.

Do not lie, my bride. Brak'aath told me everything. You will be punished.

Alessandre watched in horror as the Khajiit was dragged into the portal, begging and screaming as she fought to escape. Her final scream as she was pulled through echoed through the air, even after the portal closed.

Several years later

Alessandre threw back the last of his mead before turning to his partner. "Say, Lavender." He began. "Did I ever tell you about the time I saw a Khajiit get dragged through a portal to Oblivion as a teen?"

The purple haired Dunmer woman hummed slightly. "Really? That's awful." She said, not really focused on the conversation. Until about a minute later, when what he said hit her.

"Wait a minute! You saw what?!"

[ask-demon-princess-astarte]

WIP MONDAY

I figured that, given I had a little free time today, I would post a little snippet from Azirina's evil storyline. Trigger warnings for implied violence, murder, mentions of blood and implications of Molag Bal living up to one of his names.

Blue flames flickered around them, illuminating the walls and casting oversized shadows. Upon an altar, lay the girls they had kidnapped. They were blindfolded and deafened to the world around them. But these were just precautions. Her spell had sent them into the sweet embrace of a dream. To them, that was reality. And the monsters kidnapping them and destroying their home was merely a nightmare. 

 He stood right behind her, looming over her. She could feel his breaths on the back of her neck, stirring her hair and fur with hot puffs of air. She tried to ignore him, focusing on the children before her. Suddenly, the blade in her hands felt like an impossible weight. A deep, eerie chant began to fill the room, his Daedra beginning the spell. 

 "Srag glizdu nakhizish agh bugash obzidan." She began, watching the flames grow brighter as the runes of the blade ignited. Behind her, he shifted slightly as she stepped forward. "Grish udahok avhe chainuk." The runes seemed to burn like the flames around her, dripping from the blade like blood and spilling onto the floor. They spread out, weaving their way around the altar where the girls lay.

 From outside of the tower, Vulon and the other titans began to roar as thunder boomed overhead. Power surged throughout the realm, crackling up the chains of the dark anchors like lightning. Every daedra in the realm could feel it. The spell had begun, the first steps of the planemeld had started. Their queen was leading them to victory. 

 The chanting was growing louder, as she continued her spell, standing over the sleeping children. Brak'aath moved to stand at the other side of the altar, a similar blade in his claws.

 "Kragor throquat maushat." She chanted, watching as the runes began to crawl up the altar. They surrounded the children as she raised the blade up above one, watching Brak'aath raise his blade above the other. "Clawuk laavch onavo asht, nauk-almuk shal juliukon." The runes and flames glowed at their brightest as the chanting suddenly stopped. Silence fell over the room before she finished her spell.

"Gurz krimp uluk ishi hoshat." They brought the blades down in unison, the flames extinguishing in that instant. When they reignited, blood dripped from the altar. She stood, looking down at the two pure white orbs. They floated where the children had been, until a daedra collected them. 

 "An excellent ritual, your majesty." A twilight Matriarch growled at her. 

 "With these souls, the planemeld can begin again." Another snarled, gnashing its words in its bloodied maw. 

 "Yes, and with this we can….." She yelped out in shock as the back of her neck was grabbed and she was slammed forward. Her claws scrambled across the stone floor, slipping in the spilled blood. She tried to look back when she felt it, pulsing along the chains like fire. The scent of blood, the power of the spell, the beginnings of his plans coming to fruition, it had ignited a fire in him that was spreading through her chains. 

 Leave, now! He roared at the other Daedra. Her eyes went wide as she realised and began to fight more. 

 "Master, wait! Please!" She begged as she tried to break free of his grip. Her hands clawed at the stone altar for purchase as the other Daedra began to leave, Brak'aath lingering for a moment before leaving the room. He leant over her, his body a great weight pressing down on her spine.

 Now, my bride. We should celebrate this success. He practically purred in her ear, his tongue slithering up her neck like some horrific serpent. She continued to fight him in desperation.

 "No! Please! This one does not want this!" She begged as she tried to escape. She froze as she heard fabric tearing, an intense heat pressing against her as he prepared. "No! No, please, master!"

 Outside, Vulon roared and paced, his claws leaving great troughs gouged in the earth. She was screaming, begging and crying out. Her agony was clear to him. But he could do nothing to help her. He whined, great wings flapping in frustration. He had one role, to protect her. And yet he couldn't protect her from the worst monster of all. Her husband.

[ask-demon-princess-astarte]

WIP Wednesday

So, I haven't done one of these in a while but, I figured I would post a WIP of the latest chapter of Azirina's story. I won't tag anyone though, if you want to post a WIP, feel free.

TW: for scenes involving blood and gore along with death.

They had returned to Markarth, following the priest they had rescued. He had immediately ran to the house the Vigilant of Stendarr had been outside, with Azirina on his heels. Vilkas had not been far behind, managing to slip into the house before the door shut. But when he entered, no one was there. He frowned, looking around when a light caught his attention. It came from a tunnel leading deeper into the house. He quickly slipped into it, just as a metallic sound filled the air around him. 

"Molag Bal!" The priest's voice sounded. "You think you can best Boethiah's faithful?! I have won this contest before!" Vilkas crept forward until he came to an open area. He looked around the edge of the tunnel, freezing at the sight. A rusted mace sat atop a horrific altar. Before that, the priest they had worked so hard to rescue was captured in a spiked cage. Azirina stood to the side, her arms folded behind her back. But she appeared to be in some sort of trance, her eyes unfocused.

 Ah, but I have my own champion this time, Logrolf. A horrific, evil and ancient sounding voice echoed through the air, chilling him to his soul. Vilkas watched as the priest looked at Azirina, who simply smiled and waved at him. 

 "What? You!?" 

 Mortal, I give you my mace, in all its rusted spitefulness. Crush the spirit from Logrolf's bones. Make him bend to me. The voice spoke again, issuing a command. Vilkas watched, finding himself unable to move as Azirina stepped forward and took the mace. She turned back to the priest, who glared at her from his place in the trap. 

 "Do your worst, cat. But I will not bend to the likes of….." He didn't get to finish the sentence, the mace being brought down on his head with a sickening crunch. A spray of blood splattered across the floor as the priest raised his head, the injury clear. The mace came down a second time, dropping the priest to his knees, before it came down again, the impact breaking the old man's neck and causing him to drop dead. 

 Ah ha ha! You mortals and your frail, limp, pathetic bodies. Try again! The order came, the room illuminated by blue fire as the priest was revived. Vilkas found he could do nothing but watch as the mace was brought down on the old man again and again. The air was filled with the sounds of bones breaking and flesh tearing, the copper smell of blood so thick in the air that he could taste it. 

 "No more….please, no more!" The priest wept from the trap as Azirina raised the mace again, her arm covered in blood. 

 "I submit, Molag Bal. I submit!" 

You bend to me?

 "Yes."

 You pledge your soul to me?

 "Yes!"

 You forsake the weak and pitiful Boethiah?

"Yes!" The priest yelled, obviously just wanting the pain to end. 

 You are mine now, Logrolf. Kill him. Azirina lowered the mace briefly, looking down at the priest who cowered from her. Her ears twitched briefly, flicking back and forth as the priest looked up. She tilted her head to one side, her eyes closed as she smiled sweetly at him. Vilkas watched, wondering if she was about to let him go. The priest obviously thought the same thing, going to stand, when the mace was slammed down into his face, crushing his skull in an instant. As blood and gore dripped from it, the mace seemed to change before their very eyes, making her pause and lift it. 

 The mace of Molag Bal! I give you its true power, mortal. When your enemies lie broken and bloodied before you, know that I will be watching. The voice spoke again as Azirina examined the mace. Her eyes seemed to glow, as though she was under the influence of a spell. Vilkas watched, noticing something. Visible just beneath her armour, the mark seemed to glow. 

 "Thank you, Lord Molag Bal." Azirina replied, bowing before the altar. Silence filled the air for a few moments before the voice spoke again. 

 You remind me of someone, mortal. A kitten that once walked my realm unscathed, the child of a tribe that knew nothing but loyalty to me. But that bloodline is lost to the sands. It sounded intrigued as it spoke, as if its owner was leaning closer to examine her. After a few more moments, it spoke once more. 

 Nevertheless, I now have a soul in Oblivion that needs claiming. Take care of the house while I am gone. Ha ha ha! The laughter echoed around the room, even after the overwhelming presence of the voice left. It was at that moment, Vilkas found himself able to move. He quickly made his way out of the basement and the home. But he couldn't shake the feelings that clawed at his gut when she stepped out shortly afterwards.