#female dovahkiin

[t0rturedangel]

╭ . . . a guide to becoming noticeable ੭

• ➛ LOVE INTERESTS ╰ notes :: creek is still canon in this.

DOVAHKIIN / NEW KID - ✮ • ━ " . . . "

STANLY MARSH - ✮ • ━ " I- listen I know I used to be an asshole but- "

KYLE BROFLOVSKI - ✮ • ━ " I never hated you or thought you were weird "

KENNETH MCCORMICK - ✮ • ━ " God- you can definitely punch the shit outta me babe "

LEOPOLD 'BUTTERS' STOTCH - ✮ • ━ " . . . Why'd they suddenly change attitudes to you? "

TWEEK TWEAK - ✮ • ━ " D-do you want some c-coffee? ACK- "

CRAIG TUCKER - ✮ • ━ " I guess, you're chill "

CLYDE DONOVAN - ✮ • ━ " Heyyyy !! pleasedonthurtme I think you're really cool ! "

SCOTT MALKINSON - ✮ • ━ " You won't leave us will you? "

WENDY TESTABURGER - ✮ • ━ " Awh girl! I'll totally help you ! "

TOLKIEN BLACK - ✮ • ━ " It's nice to be around someone who isn't loud and arrogant for once "

here's the masterlist

[martindeservedbetter]

the only exception

Vilkas x F! Harbinger! Dragonborn! Reader

PART ONE

word count: 4697

triggers: none

summary: Vilkas doesn't believe in love. But his harbinger sure does. Is there anything he can do to get her mind off of being single? Yes. Yes, there is.

prompt: from @writings-of-a-hufflepuff List #2 prompt 61

“I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have done that, you can look after

yourself…I shouldn’t have…I’m sorry.” 

preview:

“Two beds.” Vilkas slid the septims to the woman.

“I’m sorry to say we don’t have two beds available, just one.”

Vilkas turned to Y/n, who was half asleep on his arm.

“That will do just fine, do you happen to have an extra fur-”

The woman stared at Y/n, then back to Vilkas.

“You sure you need two?”

Love had never been very important to Vilkas. Sure, he loved the camaraderie the Companions had, but it wasn't family. Farkas understood family, and how to love, so when Farkas announced his engagement to Feyna, it didn't phase Vilkas.

Though, it was certainly a wake-up call for Y/n, who had been their Harbinger for the past two years since Kodlak had passed on to Sovngarde. And this phased Vilkas.

He watched her smile back at Farkas, but he saw the heartbreak in her eyes. She had always spoken about wanting to be married by now. To be loved by now. And she was watching it slip through her fingertips.

"We'd love it if you all came to our ceremony next week!"

Farkas shouted, pulling Feyna into his side.

Cheers erupted from the Companions, all hoisting mugs of mead toward the couple. Aela then began a speech about Farkas, but Vilkas hadn’t bothered to listen as Y/n’s face did not match her actions.

"Y/n?" 

Vilkas caught her saddened eyes.

"Are you alright?"

It was the sudden change in her face that shattered her facade of peace.

"Of course, no need to worry Vilkas."

But that did not answer his question, but he knew that she wouldn’t answer him, not in her current state.

"To Farkas!” the others answered, quickly following suit.

And as it turns out, it would be much harder to garner her attention.

___________________

It was a quieter day in Whiterun, and Y/n had deemed it her own day off and told the Companions to spend the day as they saw fit.

This only piqued Vilkas’s interest, as he saw his beloved Harbinger don something other than the armor she usually adorned. It was a soft beige tunic, half-tucked into her cloth pants, and with her boots laced up. Even her hair was styled a bit differently, the hairs she usually kept from her face, were now loose and free…

“Where are you off to today, Y/n?”

Vilkas asked, catching her at the front door.

“Vilkas!”

He watched as her body tensed at the sound of his voice. She seemingly missed him standing at the door.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you, I just know that today we are free to take a break from our daily training, and well you seemed dressed up-”

“I’m just going to the market.”

“May I join you?”

Her eyes widened briefly, before returning to her previous facial expression.

“I suppose that would be fine, I just didn’t want to be identified… Just blend in a bit, you know?”

He glanced down at his armor-clad form and met her eyes once more.

“I can change?” He offered, and she laughed.

“You want to join me that badly that the wolf of Jorrvaskr wants to become a man?”

He flushed, as even he didn’t know why he wanted to join her so badly, but he just swallowed and nodded.

“Maybe we can at least get that warpaint off,” she smiled.

“If that would please you of course.”

“Please me?”

He groaned,” Ignore me Y/n. I’ll get civilianized and return to you.”

She just rolled her eyes and set her hand on the sword's hilt strapped to her side.

It wasn’t long until Vilkas returned, hair tied tight, wearing just a tunic and trousers, a sword still strapped to his back. His warpaint had gone, but his icy blues were just as piercing as ever.

“Is this more acceptable?”

And the smile on her face had made all of his hassle worth it.

___________________

“Hello Carlotta, how have sales been going?”

“Y/n!”

Carlotta ran to the front of her stall, wrapping her arms around the Harbinger.

“I don’t see you often enough.”

They parted from each other and Y/n’s hand fell to the back of her neck.

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to see you more.”

Carlotta’s eyes fell on Vilkas.

“Oh, I didn’t know you had a beloved.”

The pair's eyes widened, as they both began quickly trying to explain that they were not in fact that.

She gave a knowing smile but said nothing.

“Well then, what would your name be sir?”

“Oh, Vilkas.”

“A quiet one, eh? Just like Mila’s father,” it was a sad smile that graced her lips, and Vilkas knew that it would be extremely rude if he tried to learn about the man.

“He was determined to come with me to see you today.”

“Oh was he?”

The way the women teased him sent chills down his spine, as he was not used to being belittled or put on the spot like this. But he stayed silent, watching the women interact, and watching a side of Y/n he had not yet gotten to see.

“So, no man yet, Y/n?”

“Carlotta!” Y/n hissed, and Vilkas could hear the same pain in her voice as when Farkas announced his wedding.

“Well, it’s been two years of you claiming you’d be wed and-”

Vilkas threw an arm over her shoulder, pulling Y/n closer to himself.

“She’s actually doing quite well despite her goal. She’s very important in my life.”

“Vilkas…”

Carlotta simply nodded, but there was a glimmer in her eye.

“Oh! It seems to me I have a new customer, it was great talking to you Y/n! I hope to see you sooner?”

Y/n sighed but nodded.

“I will speak with you again soon Carlotta.”

And they turned from her stand, but all Vilkas could feel were Y/n’s eyes boring into him.

“What?”

“Why did you stand up for me then?”

She didn’t meet his eyes but simply continued up the stairs back to Jorrvaskr.

“It was only right.”

“She was just teasing.” She paused and met his eyes.

“You didn’t like it. 

And she opened her mouth to retort, but seemingly couldn’t find the words.

“Let’s just go home.”

And their market trip seemed to have come to a sudden halt.

But why did he still want to be closer?

___________________

"Y/n?"

It was a quiet voice, as he had decided to creep into her room. And there she was slumped over her desk, softly muttering things in her sleep. 

Vilkas just chuckled, this was no way for her to sleep.

"C’mon, let's get you to bed-"

"But what about me? Am I not allowed to be happy?"

Vilkas stopped in his tracks, maybe he shouldn't wake her.

"What do you mean Harbingers don't get married?! That's not fair-!"

A tear rolled down her cheek, and Vilkas immediately changed his approach.

"Y/n," he brushed the hair from her face," Y/n, wake up."

Her eyes fluttered open and met his icy blues.

"Vilkas? Why aren't you asleep?" 

There was no lace of sleep in those words, she had just sat upright, and he could just feel the tension in her shoulders.

"I wanted to check on you, but then I saw you weren't sleeping well…"

"You didn't hear anything right?"

His voice caught in his throat.

"You did. Please don't tell anyone-"

"You're allowed to love, Y/n. None of us will hold that against you, I won't hold it against you."

"...Can I be honest with you Vilkas?"

"Of course."

"I don't think I'm unlovable, I just think that no man will ever want to marry a woman with that much authority."

Vilkas smiled," There will be someone. It would be impossible not to love you."

He paused for but a moment then continued with," Let's get you to bed."

As soon as she rose from her chair, Vilkas swept her off her feet and carried her toward her bed.

"I could have walked you know."

"Well someone needs to care for you! Might as well be me."

And there was no sparky comment to follow.

___________________

It wasn't strange for Vilkas to keep an eye on everyone’s training. He was one of the members of the Circle, and many of the others would do the same. However, it was strange to Vilkas that he would always keep his eye on one person, Y/n.

She was their newest little whelp who had begun her climb through the ranks, now even outranking himself, as his Harbinger. She had very easily won him over, and he was almost proud of her.

"Hey, Vilkas!"

He was drawn out of his own thoughts by that very same person, and he made his way over to her.

"Yes? What is it?"

"So you know how I’ve been trying to learn how to fight with any weapon right? I've got the bow and short swords down, but I can't get this greatsword. And well, you train whelps with greatswords, so I was hoping you could help me too."

"Yeah, of course just show me what you've got."

She nodded and began swinging at the practice dummy, only laying a couple of solid blows before stopping herself.

"So first of all your stance is all wrong. Move your feet closer together."

"Like this?"

He watched her feet shift slightly, but not to his liking.

"Not like that," he came up behind her, wrapping his hands over hers and correcting her stance with his body.

"You're going to want to put your whole body into it. It'll drive more force through with each blow. So that's why you need a solid footing."

As he spoke, his warm breath tickled her ear.

"Alright, but then how do I take a swing and not leave myself vulnerable?"

"That comes with practice. Which actually," he released her from his arms," Stay here, there might be something I have to help you out."

And Vilkas jogged his way back into Jorrvaskr and tried to ignore Tilma’s complaints as he broke into a sprint when he made his way inside.

“Idiotic child…”

He knew it was stupid, going out of his way to help train his Harbinger, but that didn’t stop him as he grabbed the wooden sword Jergen had given him.

___________________

The toy was slipped out of his grasp.

"I think you're ready for a true sword. Remember Vilkas, a man's strength is not ability, but in his heart," Jergen explained.

"But I'm not strong enough! It's too heavy-"

"You'll grow into it. I know you will." 

The large steel blade was placed in his hands.

“You will be ready, and I pray this blade helps you for a lifetime.”

___________________

“Here, let’s start with this.”

“A wooden blade?” Y/n laughed,” Aren’t I a bit advanced for this?”

“This blade has served a young boy very well. It was the way his father trained him. He was a foolish boy, but regardless, this blade was kind to him.”

“This was yours? Did Jergen-”

Vilkas nodded.

“So let’s try this stance again shall we?”

___________________

It wasn’t a difficult mission, and it was the first one Y/n had taken on in quite some time. She of course had her jobs as the famous Last Dragonborn, but this one she took up upon her title of Harbinger. Vilkas, of course, volunteered to be her shield-brother to which she accepted.

The mission was simple. There was some monster threatening a small village on the outskirts of Riften, just at the border of Skyrim and Morrowind. Truly no big deal for such experienced warriors as the Harbinger and her wolf.

That was until Y/n was face to face with a rabid werewolf and the oncoming panic attack she had no control over. She froze mid-battle and couldn’t stop the way her body shook, or the way her blade fell from her hands.

Vilkas jumped in and fought the beast in her stead, fending off the wolf from its violent attacks. When the beast fell, Vilkas sighed and turned to her. She had fallen to her knees, and words began to fall from his mouth.

“I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have done that, you can look after yourself…I shouldn’t have…I’m sorry.”

“Vilkas…”

She threw herself into his arms and began to sob.

“I was so scared, I am so scared.”

“I’m here, Y/n. I’m here.”

His hands found themselves tangled within her locks, as her face was buried into his chest. The silence in the wood was only pierced by her sobs as she shook.

“I’m here…” he mused, holding her tighter.

He understood her fear, the curse that came with being a companion was horrid. It happened to be why she never shifted, and why Vilkas found it hard for himself to do so. He was never quite proud of being a beast, but any pride he had was gone when he realized how much she hated the beast.

She let out a sigh and began to try to compose herself.

"I'm okay. You can let me go now."

But Vilkas didn't miss the way her eyes still held sadness and the way her voice wavered just a bit.

"Don’t force yourself to be okay, Y/n. I can be strong for you right now. You can be human."

He watched as the tears came to her eyes again, and he pulled her into himself again. It was a gentle hold, his hands rubbing her back.

Kiss her.

Vilkas shook off the thought. It was not the place nor time to do so. And besides, how could she love a beast like him…

___________________

They had reached the edge of Eastmarch and had planned to stop in Windhelm for the night. Y/n had been very quiet for most of the ride, and Vilkas took this as a sign that he should take the lead for the rest of their trip. 

They had handed their horses to the stablemaster and headed toward the city gates. Vilkas had noticed the way that Y/n would lag behind him, almost shuffling her feet.

“You know Y/n, I could just carry you.”

“I’m quite alright Vilkas.”

And yet she still didn’t match his slowed pace, or even look at him while answering his comment.

“Alright, that’s it.”

And he hoisted her up in his arms.

“Vilkas! Vilkas I demand that you put me down this instant! As your harbinger, I-”

“In all due respect, I’m not going to listen to you just this once.” He looked down at her.

“Vilkas-”

“Please, Y/n.”

His voice came out a little too weak, and he prayed she didn’t notice. And she just relented, arms finding their way around his neck and averting her eyes from onlookers, for fear of crippling embarrassment.

He made his way up the steps into Candlehearth Hall, and only then let her stand on her two feet.

“We’ve made it, I assume you’d like to be upright when getting a bed.”

She hummed in response, still clinging to him tightly.

He held the door for her as they walked to the bar.

“Two beds.” Vilkas slid the septims to the woman.

“I’m sorry to say we don’t have two beds available, just one.”

Vilkas turned to Y/n, who was half asleep on his arm.

“That will do just fine, do you happen to have an extra fur-”

The woman stared at Y/n, then back to Vilkas.

“You sure you need two?”

He despised the way that the warmth crept to his ears.

“I’m certain.”

The woman tried to contain her reactions, but simply resigned to gesturing a hand toward the rooms, and walked ahead of the two in leading them to the available room.

"Enjoy your stay."

Vilkas nodded to the woman before turning to Y/n, who had already set her pack against the bedframe. She was currently struggling to remove her sheath from her belt.

“Y/n,” he called, already by her side, hands on her sheath.

“Let me. You’re exhausted. Don’t strain yourself, we have a long ride to Whiterun at dawn.”

Her eyes locked with his, hands still firmly gripped on the leather strap.

“Y/n,” there was a soft smile on his lips,” Please, let me take care of you.”

Her hands went slack, and he pulled the sheath from her, leaning it up against the side table. She then stripped from her armor, and Vilkas felt the need to turn away. He began to strip from his own, slipping off his bracers and boots before taking off the heavier pieces. 

Vilkas did not turn to Y/n until he was in nothing but a tunic and trousers and saw she was in the same. She sat on the edge of the bed, silently, which would be fine if all she had done was wait for him to finish, but Vilkas could tell this was not the case for his dear Harbinger.

“Y/n… is there anything I can do for you?” His hand grabbed her own, not even thinking as he sat beside her. The wolf of Jorrvaskr softening, his eyes becoming that of a love-sick pup, not the sharp, cold ones she had come to know.

“Vilkas…”

She fell onto him, head pressed to his side, letting out a sigh.

“...I’m terrified.”

He turned to look down at her, an arm finding its way around her shrinking body. With the other, he brushed away loose hairs.

“What is scaring you?”

“That wolf today… That could be me…” Her voice began to waver. “It is not you.” His grip tightened around her.

“But Vilkas-”

“You are not a monster. You have never been one. Nor will you ever be. Do you remember the first time you shifted?”

He felt her tears fall onto his hand, and heard her cry out a weak “no”.

He rubbed her shoulder,” You didn’t attack anyone. You seemed to be aware of your surroundings. Didn’t hurt a single person.”

“Really?” She sniffled.

“Really. Our gentle Harbinger. A true alpha. You protect the weak and never lead us astray.”

She turned to him and stared at him closely.

“Just, Vilkas, I…”

He gave her arm a squeeze.

“I hate the beast blood…”

“I know, I know…”

“I want it gone!” She sobbed, burying her head in Vilkas’s chest.

“I know my dear… There have been rumors you know…”

He ran a hand through her hair.

“Rumors that there is a cure to lycanthropy… I’ve been trying for proof, and I will not rest until I have an answer for you.”

His heart melted at the way her eyes lit up, this smothered light finally beginning to find that spark again. 

“I want to help you.”

“By all means, you may, but I’m doing this for you regardless. Should you want it, that is.”

“I want to.”

There was a smile on her face again, such a smile he hadn’t seen in months. Gods above, if he could see this every day, Vilkas would give up anything. She was a refreshing aura, a rejuvenating one. She could ask him to leash the wind, and by the gods, he’d find a way, if it meant he’d get to see but a glimpse of that smile.

“Then we’ll find it together. But Y/n, you need your rest. You take the bed. I’ll sleep by the door-”

He stood up, hand resting against the hilt of his blade that he had leaning against the bed. 

“You don’t have to Vilkas, the bed is more than big enough to share.” She grabbed the sleeve of his tunic.

He gave a soft laugh, grabbing her hand.

“I’m quite a large man, Y/n. And besides, wouldn’t you mind sleeping beside a man?”

“Not you.”

He tried to stifle a cough. 

Blasted woman.

“C’mon, grab that fur. We can share a mattress for a night Vil.”

“Uh, of course. If that’s what you wish.”

“It is.” 

There’s that damn smile. By Shor, my heart’s gonna explode.

She sat on the side by the wall, legs tucked underneath her. Y/n was sitting on her knees, hands in her lap, and this beautiful smile was plastered to her face.

“Well, uh, then. I suppose that settles it. Remember we leave at dawn-”

“Vilkas…” she laughed,” just sleep. We will be okay.”

“Very well.”

Vilkas took his fur and draped it over himself, turning to catch a glimpse of Y/n, which made his heart leap.

Shut it you damn heart.

“Goodnight Vilkas,” Y/n murmured, and Vilkas took that as his cue to dim the lantern and try to catch a bit of sleep. After all, they had a big journey ahead of them.

___________________

Whiterun. Finally.

“I’ll race you to the city!” she called, kicking her steed.

“What?! How is this fair!? Y/n!”

But she was already much too ahead. 

He huffed and set his horse to a trot, but couldn’t get the prior night out of his head.

Her hands would grab for me in the night… And she looked so peaceful, much calmer than the night I found her at her desk. By Mara, if that could be-

“Snap out of it Vilkas. With your blood, she’ll-”

He sighed and made his way to the city, stopping to drop his horse at the stables, and made his way to the city gate. There stood Y/n, staring at a letter. She held it with tight hands, eyes scanning the page with increasing speed.

“What is that? Y/n.”

“I-It’s from Kodlak. He tried to get it to me when I was in Solsthiem… The courier just got it to me… Vilkas, it's a cure!”

“A cure?” 

He saw the shake in her hands and grabbed her shoulder.

“Quick. To Jorrvaskr. I’ll grab my brother, it's time to plan.”

And with a mutual nod, they sped off.

___________________

“Kodlak had mentioned something similar here in his journal, he was definitely looking for a cure, he must’ve sent the letter just before Jorrvaskr was attacked… It doesn’t mention a location though…”

“That’s no matter!”

Vilkas pushed aside the books she had poured through and pointed to a location in the Northwest of Falkreath. 

“There’s legends of the Glenmoril Coven. Men have gone missing in this general area historically. If there is any place for these witches to be, it would be here.”

Y/n shot up and placed a kiss on his cheek before marking that area off on the map she kept in her tunic.

“I’ll gather the witch heads, I need you to plot a course for Ysgrammor’s Tomb. By my accounts, it should be up in The Pale.”

Vilkas’s head was still swimming. Did she even realize what she had done? Oh by the Nine, gods above, I love this woman.

He cleared his throat.

“Ugh, and we will need a total of four heads. For Kodlak.”

She smiled.

Gods above…

“Yes for Kodlak. I’ll rid us of all of them, don’t you fret. I’ll get every last one of them. The Companions will soon be bound to Hircine no longer, and Kodlak will get his rest in Sovngarde. Vilkas, you plot the course,” she turned from him to Farkas,” I need you to gather supplies. We need torches, food, furs for us and our mounts, we need maps, poultices, and anything else you would think would be wise to bring.”

“You’ve got it, sister,” he pulled Vilkas in with a headlock,” Vilkas and I will be right on that. You know he would do anything for you-”

“I think that’s enough brother.”

Vilkas pried himself from Farkas, nothing short of embarrassed. He could feel the heat creeping up his neck, and his ears began to burn.

She just laughed, and that did nothing to quell the feelings that plagued him at that moment.

“You boys are certainly brothers.” She shook her head, still laughing. With her hands firm on her hips, Y/n spoke again. “I’m off to meet with the Jarl. We all know what we are up to. I’ll be back in the evening.”

She then left the Harbinger suite with an extra pep in her step, though Vilkas didn’t pay it much attention, as his thoughts were near impossible to quiet.

Farkas turned to his brother.

“Don’t say it,” Vilkas muttered, clearly on edge.

“There’s nothing to say,” the twin replied, and with a grin, he clapped him on the shoulder. “Come, we should drink to celebrate this find.”

“I don’t know, brother. I’m sure I’ll need more time to go over these maps, go to the Jarl’s library-”

“We can just stay in the Hall?”

Farkas offered an encouraging look.

“Who could say no to such an offer?”

The man grinned, throwing an arm over his often grumpier twin.

“That’s what I like to hear.”

___________________

It had ended up being a very long night of drinking in Jorrvaskr. And despite this fact, evening had come and gone and Y/n had still not returned for the night. It was honestly the only reason that Vilkas had stuck around the hall that night. Aela had been incredibly obnoxious that night, scolding the twins on their desire for a cure, claiming that it was a blessing and sacred tradition. No amount of historical fact could bring her off her conclusion. 

“The Circle has been bound by such tradition for well over a hundred years!”

“And the Companions have not held the tradition for hundreds! It’s what Kodlak wanted for us-”

“Still bending a knee to the old man, Vilkas. He’s in the eternal hunt now. That’s the life he chose, as have you. You should accept your choices as Skjor and I have.”

The conversation remained vague, as non-Circle members were sat around, and under Y/n’s leadership, had still not been informed on the secrets of the Circle.

“Sister, it is not wrong to take charge of your life-”

Farkas tried to support his brother, but Aela was quicker.

“But you cannot change your destiny.”

She thankfully laid off then. After things had ended in debate and poured drink, most had gone to their beds, but Vilkas still waited. It was nearly driving Tilma mad.

“Boy, off to bed with you. I’m sure that girl of yours will warm your bed soon.”

He couldn’t figure out a rebuttal to the matriarch, with the alcohol making his mind swim and the wolf within fighting for control.

“You can clean up around me Tilma… or just go get some rest…”

The woman scoffed but pulled away the various dishes and reset the chairs while Vilkas began to drift off, head still facing the doors, just waiting for his beloved Harbinger to return.

___________________

He didn’t even hear the door open when she returned.

“Oh Vil, you should’ve gone to bed…”

He felt her hand run through his hair, and he sighed at her touch.

“I ‘s waiting for you…”

“I know Vil, c’mon. To bed with you…”

She held her hand out to the sleepy Nord. He gladly took it and used way too much force to get himself up off the chair, but Y/n didn’t even flinch.

“You’re strong…”

“I thought you knew that already Vil. I was taught by the best,” she winked, but it didn’t phase him.

He didn’t notice the burlap sack slung across her body until they were just feet from his door.

“Where’s that from?”

“Oh, from Dragonsreach. I’ll return it to the kitchens tomorrow. I just needed to borrow it for tonight. This one is yours,” she handed him a scroll,” Goodnight Vilkas!”

She tied a similar scroll to Farkas’s door and then waved at Vilkas as he walked into his room. Curiosity caught the wolf and broke him from his tired mind.

Sir Vilkas of Jorrvaskr

That alone took him aback.

You are hereby invited to a ball at Dragonsreach, in honor of the Dragonborne, Y/n L/n, for her heroics five odd years ago. 

His brain could not calm itself, so as if he was no longer in control of his body, he found his way to Y/n.

“Vilkas? Is something the matter-” She stared, face scrunched in worry.

“I wouldn’t miss your event for the world.”

Her face returned to a peaceful medium… and one could say well… He slept well that night.

[globofhoney]

In my headcanon, I believe female dragonborns (no matter what the race)...

- is secretly a Jills and not really a Dov.

- is papa Akatosh's favourite. When you die, you go back to Akatosh and abandoned your mortal shell, will eventually get turned back into a Jills and stay with your sisters and father. Safe and sound in Aetherius while the drakes (Dov) stays in Tamriel, fight for dominance and act like tough shit.

- Believe it or not, in my HC, Akatosh treats his daughters, the Jills, nicely since they are quite duty oriented and well behave.

- Imagine seeing Alduin there in Aetherius as well and he remembers you, since you die and lose privileges of dragonborn, plus already turned into a jills, Alduin will now be your big bully despite him being in a time out.

- Don't worry, papa Akatosh will deal with him for you. Daddy loves all his children, he just have a softer spot when it comes to his cute little Jills.

[strigital]

the face of a man enjoying his early retirement

[3xm-draconic]

Bloodline of the Last Dragon.

Season 1/Episode 4: Working Night & Day.

Retrieving the dragon stone for Farengar would have to wait, Mattilda needed to find work and get enough money to pay for her father’s stay at the temple. The first line of work she did was for Farengar himself by delivering frost salts to the alchemist Arcadia, making a cool 300 septims after that job.

While she was in the market she was asked by a woman who runs the vegetable stall, Carlotta Valentia, to get a bard to stop hitting on her.

Mattilda had to punch the poor bard’s teeth in but that got the job across, that was another 200 gold earned, then while heading to the temple to visit her father she overheard a man in need of a hired muscle to get his family sword back.

The man, Armin, offered her 700 gold to get it back from some bandits in a cave not too far from Whiterun called White River Watch, with an offer like that Mattilda figured she could do it.

With the amount of gold she would be making from today by taking his quest she could finally stop sleeping on benches and under bridges.

Mattilda headed out of Whiterun and down to where the bandits lair was, it was a cave in the mountainside just overlooking the rapids, Mattilda knew she could not just fight her way through them all so she planned ahead and sacrificed a little gold to prep for this adventure.

She bought a small potion of invisibility and a spell book of muffleing, she cast it over her feet and drank the slightly sweet brew down, once invisible as the wind and silent as the a grave she crept through their camp.

The dark cave helped conceal her presence further from their sight, sticking to the shadows like glue. She managed to get into the main chamber but found there to be a problem…

There were too many bandits for her to sneak past, this is where an idea struck her.

Mattilda knew it would be loud and destructive but that’s what she was hoping for, she quickly summoned a fire atronach and then quickly snuck away as the bandits panicked and attacked it.

She finally made it onto the balcony where the bandit chief sat overlooking the tundra, from his body language Mattilda saw he was very drunk and had his eyes closed.

“EHY!” he gruffly snorted “hand me (hic) another ale would ya?” he mumbled, Mattilda reached over and handed him another bottle of ale and while he drank it she sneakily lifted the ring of keys he had off his belt.

She then snuck over to the chest behind him and found the sword Armin was looking for, it was a beautiful carved elven sword enchanted with flames. She also snached a few soulgems that sat at the bottom of the chest.

She took it and started to sneak back through the cave, just as she was on her way out she noticed her invisibility potion wareing off “damn it” she panicked and like a bat out of Oblivion she ran…

"You found it? I've been looking for that blade for months” Armin smiled as Matii handed him his sword “you took on all those bandits yourself? Thank you” he turned to her “here, my father had a favorite sword and shield technique, let me teach it to you, in honor of his memory."

Although Mattilda wielded a dagger and no shield she was still grateful for his lessons and for his reward of gold.

Mattilda then entered the Temple of Kynareth while visiting hours were still open. Her father lay on a bed in the temple, most of his body wrapped in bandages, he looked like one of those mummies you’d hear about from hammerfell.

“Matti!” he smiled “thank mara you are alright”, “how are you doing dad?”, he sat up and groaned “another 3 weeks they said, after that I’ll be healed enough to be out of here and good as new”, “I’ll see what I can do in the mean time to make more gold”, “no” he grumbled “no, Matti head to Falkreath and say with your uncle’s friends”. Mattilda sighed “but dad what about-”, “I got back in touch with him, he said he’ll be paying for me and he wants you to stay safe with a few of his friends, they have a safehouse there”.

Mattilda nodded “ok dad…” she debated on whether or not to tell him about the quest the Jarl sent her on but decided it would be better not to tell him.

She headed to The Bannered Mare to grab a hot meal and a room to sleep in before the trip to Falkreath when she noticed a commotion in the market.

“UNHAND CICERO! HE DID NOTHING WRONG!” cried a little jester in a red and black motley, “you are to be taken to jail until your bail can be paid off, Fool” the guard growled as he dragged the man towards Dragonsreach, “hey what’s going on?” Mattilda stopped the guard “why is this man to be taken to prison?”, the guard grumbled “he wouldn’t let us look inside the crate he was carrying but we’ll be finding that out soon enough”.

The jester, Cicero, whent absolutely unhinged “THAT’S MY MOTHER! YOU CAN’T DESECRATE HER LIKE THAT! STOP, STOP!” he wailed.

Mattilda looked at the poor little imperial man, he was absolutely sobbing and fighting like a wild skeever trapped in a box, “how much to pay his bail?” she looked at the guard, he stared at her “seriously? You want to help this fucking weirdo?” he mumbled, “how much?” was all she replied.

The guard sighed “250 gold”, “and how much for you and your boys to…leave his mother be?” she asked him sweetly, the guard eyed her “...call it another 200 and I’ll let this one slide pretty elfling” he hummed.

Cicero was let go and the guards walked away, he stared at Mattilda “you…helped poor Cicero?” he pondered curiously “why? he doesn't even know you?” he chirped, “it was the right thing to do, you were a person in need and a person in need is a friend indeed” she smiled.

“Names Mattilda Viddarson, you hungry Cicero? Would you like to grab dinner with me?” she offered, the jester’s frown turned into a happy grin “oooh yes thank you!” he squeaked.

Mattilda sat with Cicero beside the warm hearth, Saadia the barmaid got them both menus to look at, they both ordered something small and while Cicero ordered water Mattilda ordered a honningbrew mead. 

“So what brings you to Skyrim?” Mattilda turned to Cicero who was munching on grilled leeks and a baked salmon steak, “oh Cicero is bringing his mother to Falkreath, a new cript there so she can be safe” he replied through bites of leek.

“Oh coincidentally enough I’am heading to Falkreath to stay with some of my uncle’s friends” she nodded as she sipped her mead, Cicero sipped his tankered of water “OOOH!” he suddenly chipped happily “why don’t you come with Cicero? You can be like his bodyguard!” 

Mattilda pondered “I don’t know…I’ve never really been in combat”, Cicero shrugged “that’s ok Cicero will fight beside you if we run into trouble, just consider the free ride to Falkreath a thankyou for helping Cicero” he smiled.

When booking a room Mattilda and Cicero found themselves in a bit of a pickle, there was only one room available…with only one bed.

“Cicero will sleep on the floor since you booked the room and bought dinner” he said as he got out his bedroll from his dark leather backpack, “oh, no Cicero I can’t let you sleep on the floor you deserve to sleep on the bed too, you’ve had a long journey in Skyrim” Mattilda said as she adjusted her bedroll to act like a wall between them on the bed “go ahead and sleep next to me, I wouldn’t mind”.

They curled up in bed rather awkwardly together, sleeping back-to-back, Cicero fell asleep almost immediately but Mattilda had trouble falling asleep…

This is the first time she is sharing a bed with someone…

This is the first time she has slept with a man beside her…

Mattilda’s heart started to race…thoughts started to creep in…lewd thoughts.

She pushed them from her mind, she can’t be thinking that right now, she can’t be thinking of THAT right now…she had other things to worry about.

She would have to adjust to life in Falkreath, without her dad for the next 3 weeks and then…what would they do after that? Their finances are gone, their home is gone and everything is…gone…

She still wanted to join the college…maybe she didn’t have to buy everything she needed for her studies…whilst adventuring you can find all kinds of magical things…like the soul gems she got from the chest with Armin’s Sword. 

She felt Cicero roll over in his sleep mumbling something about getting his mother some flowers, she couldn’t help but smile at that. Then Cicero breached the makeshift wall of bedrolls and snuggled her…he was a sleep-snuggler.

“Oh for fucks-” Mattilda had to restrain herself from laughing, it was kinda funny, kinda cute and kinda terrifying. She looked at him as he nuzzled himself into the crook of her neck and wrapped himself around her, his soft little snoring and murmuring the only sounds in the room besides the rain from outside.

She laid back and tried to get some sleep.

.

(The next morning…)

.

“Cicero is so sorry, he didn’t mean to do that last night, oh bother and befuddle” the little imperial man profusely and awkwardly apologize, Mattilda just laughed “it’s ok, I didn’t mind, honestly it was rather cute…” she paused and gawked at herself for what she had just said.

Now both of them were blushing in awkward silence as they left their room, a rather big mistake as now a bar patron, a woman named Uthgerd, looked at her with sly eyes and gave her a cheeky nod.

Cicero took notice and his face turned a mix of colors, he paled in awkwardness then redened in both embarrassment and anger “WE DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!” he shouted, Mattilda pulled her hood further over her embarrassed face as bar patrons started to snicker…

“Uh hu, shure” Uthgerd chuckled and sipped her ale, laughing a little as the two hurriedly made their way out of the bar.

“Oh. My. Gods” Mattilda mumbled, snickering under her breath “oh my gods…” she repeated, “...sorry…” Cicero looked down at his pointy shoes “Cicero ment not to embarrass you fair Mattilda”, Mattilda burst out into a chores of laughter. Honks, snorts and wheezes made up her loud bellowing cackle “oh my gods, that was so fucking funny” she wheezed “you just screaming WE DID’NT DO ANYTHING! From out of nowhere…” she gave a snort of embarrassed but mirthful laughter “oh by gods I’ve never seen something so funny”.

“You are not mad at Cicero?”, “hmm? Oh no” she chuckled “it’s embarrassing but it’s also really damn funny” she laughed “I’am not mad” she assured him.

They arrived at the stables and retrieved the cart containing the coffin of Cicero’s mother, it was larger than a normal coffin and kinda freaked Mattilda out with how large and heavy it was “just how is he gonna get that thing into a crypt?” she pondered.

They passed though Riverwood, stopping only to refill their waterskins and for Cicero to pick up some alchemy ingredients. 

“Hmm what did you get?” She asked him as they rode along the cobbled mountain road, “oh just some troll fat, pine resin, beeswax, juniper oil and some aloe vera leaves” he shrugged, Mattilda blinked “I don’t know any potions you could make with those”, Cicero hummed and hawed “well…um…”. 

“Although by the ingredients you listed your making some kind of skin ointment, my mother worked as a priestess of Arkay and from the sound of it, it’s nearly identical to a recipe for burial oils” Mattilda turned to him “funny thing, my mother use to make and sell the ointment as a beauty product, she’d mix in different fragrances and scents and colors”, Cicero grinned awkwardly “oh yes that’s what Cicero dose too, he makes ointments and perfumes to make extra gold when not performing” he chuckled.

“Oh, would you like some of my mother’s recipes? She’d probably want somebody who’d enjoy making beauty products having them, I never really could get into making them myself after she…” she trailed off, Cicero looked away but then comfortingly put a hand to her shoulder “sure, Cicero would love them”.

They got about halfway to Falkreath when it became too dark and foggy to see and thus too dangerous to travel through the mountains, they found a nice safe spot a little ways away from the road and made camp.

Cicero pitched up the tents while Mattilda made dinner, after camp was made they both settled down for a nice meal under the stars.

Mattilda got out a large cook pot full of fresh water and broke a few chunks of her instant dried broth mix into it, her mother called it something funny bouillon was it? It was part chicken and part beef. 

She then diced up garlic and onions with her dagger and added them to a separate skillet to be sauted with a smidgen of butter she had saved in a jar, after caramelizing the garlic onions she added them to the bubbling broth. 

To the remnants of butter she added a small amount of flour and a few mugfulls of broth to create a slurry of sorts to thicken the soup, a roux is what her mother called it.

Next she roughly chopped up a few carrots, she then added a nirnroot finely minced, a few strips of dried horker jerky, added a splash of Blackbrier mead for its darker taste and added her special ingredient, a few shreds of cheese. To top off the soup she added a few dashes of salt and pepper.

“Food’s done!” she happily turned to Cicero who was feeding his horse a few apples, “OOH smells good, what did you make?” he pondered as he skipped towards her, “potage le magnifique” she replied as she handed him a bowl.

He took a bite and his eyes bulged “WOW!” he gasped “this is amazing!” he turned to her with a curious gleam in his big hazel-amber eyes “where did you learn to cook like that?”, “my mother” she said bittersweetly “she had a way with cooking that I dare say rivals The Gourmet themselves”.

They turned in for the night and tucked into their tents, Mattilda taking first watch…

.

.

[x-bluefire-heart-x]

Thedas

Chapter 1 for my Skyrim/Dragon Age story. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings for this chapter include a lot of swearing courtesy of Aycria and some violence though not overly graphic.

Master List

Prologue

Blinding pain in her head is what eventually forced Aycria into consciousness. She tried to raise her left hand to rub at it but felt the movement tug at her right hand. She slowly opened her eyes and took in her surrounds.

‘A cell?’ she thought starring at the odd circular room she was in. The next thing she noticed was the green glow that was emitting from her left hand. She lifted her bound hands as high as the chains allowed to stare at the green glow encompassing her hand. ‘Well, this is just great. It feels like that Orb I found but…that one gave off a blue glow and it feels slightly different, almost like a sickness.’ She looked closer, noticing that the glow started from the middle of her hand.

She called up some magicka in her left hand, her eyes narrowed as only a small amount answered and it took considerably more effort to do so. ‘What in Sithis?’ Before she could try and call more up the thing in her hand crackled and the green seemed to echo outwards in response.

“Ahh!” Aycria cried out in pain as she doubled over. She gritted her teeth and panted heavily as the pain continued before ebbing off. “Fuck. What the fuck is going on?”

The door to her cell opened with a bang, the light caused Aycria to squint her eyes against the glare. She could make out two figures.

“Who the fuck are you two?” She snarled fighting against the pounding in her head that pulsed in time with the pain in her hand. “And what the fuck is this?”

They walked forward out of the glare of the torch light and in the shadowed light of her cell Aycria was able to tell her jailers were both women. They circled around her in opposite directions.  Aycria rolled her eyes, and scoffed at their attempt to intimidate her. She sat up straighter not allowing them to see her affected by the pain. She learned a long time ago not to acknowledge or show pain to your jailers. The one wearing heavy armour with short brunette hair walked closer to her. The other one who wore a hood that obscured her face stayed further back in the shadows. ‘Hm, a warrior and perhaps an assassin or spy?’.

“What happened at the Conclave?” the warrior demanded.

“Conclave? What in Talos is a Conclave?” Aycria asked back. “And again, I ask where am I? And what is this green shit coming from my hand?”

“The Divine Justinia’s Conclave!” The warrior snarled. “The Temple of Sacred Ashes destroyed and everyone dead, everyone except for you. Explain it.”

Aycria blinked in confusion, her head titled to the left causing her snow-coloured hair to sway to the side evidently it had fallen out of the braids that Aycria wore it in when travelling.

“There is no such place in all of Tamriel, nor is there a Divine known as Justinia amongst the Nine,” she mumbled, she bit her lip eyes widening as she came to a sudden conclusion. One that made her stomach clench in horror. “By the Void…this isn’t Skyrim is it?” She looked pleadingly at the Warrior in-front of her before turning her gaze to the woman in the shadows.

“Skyrim?” Both women glanced at each other the one in the shadows moved forward. “Cassandra, I have never heard of such a place. I believe we are currently having two completely different conversations.”

“Finally, one of you is actually listening to me!” Aycria cried. “My name is Aycria Stormblade, I hail from the country of Skyrim, found on the continent of Tamriel. And I am truly sorry to hear about the destruction of this Temple of yours and the death that happened. But I swear on the Nine Divine I have no idea what any of that means. The last thing I remember is being in the Tomb of a Dragon Priest with my Shield Brother Vilkas and finding some strange Orb. Then it started glowing blue and nothing, before I woke up here. Chained and some fucking green shit in my hand.”

“Dragon Priest-?” The unnamed woman started before Cassandra interrupted.

“Leliana, go to the forward camp, I’ll take Aycria-,” here Cassandra stumbled a bit on the pronunciation of the strange woman’s name. “-To the rift.”

“Rift?” Aycria muttered. “Forward camp…is there a battle going on?” Cassandra came forward with a key as Leliana moved to leave. Cassandra unlocked the chains around Aycria’s wrist and replaced it with rope. Aycria raised an eyebrow in amusement, but out of morbid curiosity allowed herself to be led outside.

“It’ll be easier to show you,” Cassandra answered guiding her out of the cell. Aycria tested the rope around her wrists. ‘I’ll play along, I doubt it would work in my favour to inform them that the rope isn’t really going to do anything if I decide to escape. But I am rather intrigued by this rift business, and if I truly am not in Tamriel and I am in some other place entirely it would be wiser if I stayed with this Cassandra.’

As they walked through the building that served as Aycria’s brief prison she noted that it resembled the temples of the Divine she had briefly visited. She found it odd that they would use a Temple as a prison but maybe this places religion had a more violent Divine that didn’t mind their place of worship doubling as a prison. Women in red and white robes stared as they passed, they did little to hide the hatred and fear burning in their eyes. As they passed, they turned to each other and started whispering.

“That’s her, the murderer,”

“Why is Lady Cassandra allowing her to walk so unguarded?”

“She should be chained up and never allowed to see the light of day again, until the day of her execution!”

Aycria glanced at the woman next to her and couldn’t help but think the same thing. Surely, it wasn’t that easy to make someone believe that you hadn’t murdered this Divine Justina and caused the destruction of a Temple. Cassandra pushed open the large doors at the entrance to the Temple forcing Aycria to bring her bound hands up to shield her eyes from the glare of the sun and from the light reflecting off of the snow-covered ground. She blinked rapidly to help her eyes adjust, as they do, she wishes they hadn’t. The sky was ripped opened, green that matched the colour of her hand spread out from the centre of the tear.

“What in Oblivion?!” Aycria couldn’t believe what her eyes were seeing. She had heard stories of the sky being torn open during the Oblivion Crisis and she could only guess that it would have looked similar and caused the same kind of fear and panic that was currently rushing through her. “I-” she looked back at Cassandra just as the hole in the sky pulsed green dots falling from the centre and landing somewhere in the distance. Aycria’s hand seemed to respond to the pulse, the green glow lit up and burned her hand.

“Ahh! Fuck!” Aycria felt her knees give out at the pain. It felt like it had doubled, she stared as the green seemed to spread outwards only this time it didn’t ease back after the throbbing had stopped.

“Each time the Breach spreads, so does the marking on your hand,” Cassandra gently helped Aycria to her feet, noting just how small she was. “It is slowly killing you; I must get you to the Breach.”

“What happened?” Aycria gasped leaning on the warrior as the pain slowly subsided.

“No-one fully knows. All we know is that an explosion occurred at the Temple of Sacred Ashes destroying and killing everyone. Except for you,” Cassandra explained. Aycria’s eyes widened at the mention her being at this Temple of Sacred Ashes. “Scouts found you, they said you fell out of a Rift and there was a woman behind you.”

“But I wasn’t at the Conclave, I don’t remember any of that,” Aycria pushed herself away from Cassandra. “I still don’t even know what the Temple of Sacred Ashes, the Conclave or Rifts are. But an explosion did that?”

Cassandra glanced at her before pulling her along through the streets, the people stared as they passed. Aycria shifted her eyes from the sky to those around her and back again. This entire series of events was not making any sense to her and that above all else concerned her. If this place was anything like Tamriel a hole into the sky that seemed alive was not going to end well, and Talos only knows what is on the other side.

“This one did. They have already decided that you are guilty,” Cassandra pointed out, stopping them just before the gates that towered over the town. Cassandra pulled Aycria around to face her. “I cannot promise you anything more than a trial but it would help you to help us. It will be dangerous outside these walls on the journey to the Rift, demons are appearing too quickly for our soldiers.”

Aycria narrowed her eyes as she looked around and settled on staring at the Breach. Her hand seemed to pulse in time with it. Her nose picked up the scent of blood, and death. Sounds of fighting were distance but consistent.

“If there are still people dying out there and I can help I will,” Aycria sighed. “Whatever is in my hand is linked to this Breach no question about it. Don’t misunderstand I’m helping just as much for my sake as anyone else’s.”

“That is all I can ask,” Cassandra took a dagger and cut through the ropes. The gates opened and Cassandra led the way outside and along a road towards the Breach.

Aycria scanned the area around her trying to see anything familiar but apart from trees and rocks there was nothing. The plant life was as alien to her as these people were. They looked almost like Imperials but also Bretons, but none of them smelt like any of the people she had met in Skyrim. Even the scents on the wind were different, sure there was the smell of sweat, animals and such but it wasn’t quite the same. Aycria sighed as all of this further proved her hypothesis that this wasn’t Tamriel and that it wasn’t even the same World. For even if this place was just a different continent in her world surely the maps would still include Tamriel for it was massive. She eyed Cassandra, not having liked her mention of a trial, especially after being told that everyone already believes Aycria to be guilty.  After a time when they hadn’t come across anyone else for a while Aycria sped up and cut in-front of Cassandra.

“One last thing,” she said. Her tone was sharp, causing Cassandra to rest a hand on the hilt of her sword. “I don’t intend to be so easily captured again and sent on my way to execution. I will do everything in my power to close that Breach but I will not be blamed for it or the death of this Justina.”

“Do you truly believe you have a choice? If you fight you will die,” Cassandra was so matter of fact about it. As if Aycria would be defenceless against those who wish to chain her. Aycria laughed and shook her head before slightly tilting it to the right.

“You have no idea who I am or what I am capable of,” Aycria’s full lips pulled back into a smirk, her slightly pointed canine teeth in full view. She reached deep within herself for her Thum only to find it didn’t respond, she could hear the souls of the Dragons she had consumed roaring in rage but they were muted, as if they were shouting through water. Her smirk faltered for a moment before she forced it back into place. “Perhaps you should wait to see what I can do before declaring that I would be so easily killed.”

With that Aycria moved to the side and gestured for Cassandra to lead again. The warrior paused for half a second before a quick quirk of her lips and a huff of air showed slight amusement.

“Perhaps you should listen to that as well, you don’t know what the people here are capable of,” Cassandra stated before she moved on ahead. She heard Aycria stumble over a response before a laugh, genuine and bright sounded behind her. It was loud and although all around them was death and destruction it brought a small smile to Cassandra’s face.

“You got me there,” Aycria jogged to catch up before falling into step beside Cassandra. “You know you remind me of some people from back home.” Aycria’s golden eyes darkened for a moment before she looked away and up to the Breach. ‘First my magicka isn’t responding the same and now I can’t use my Thum, this isn’t good!’ Cassandra waited to see if the odd woman would elaborate any further, when she didn’t Cassandra focused her eyes back onto the road.

No demons had appeared yet which was a good sign as they came across a bridge with soldiers. Just as Aycria and Cassandra where half way across whatever the Breach was spitting out with the demons crashed into the bridge and destroyed it. Aycria yelped as the ground gave beneath her feet and she fell to the ice below. Cassandra landed next to her and quickly got to her feet as the strangest creatures Aycria had seen blinked into existence in-front of them.

“Stay back!” Cassandra drew her blade and charged into battle with a war cry on her lips. Aycria slowly got to her feet and eyed the green and black mass in-front of her. It appeared to be billowing up and one of those creatures formed out of it.

“Well, shit,” Aycria jumped back three steps and focused her magicka as ice pillars formed in her hands, she aimed at the creature’s chest and sent them flying. The creature stumbled but didn’t go down. Two more ice pillars formed and they were released but still the creature kept slithering forward. “Fine you piece of shit! Let Dawnbreaker send you back to what shithole you crawled out of.”

Aycria focused on summoning the golden sword, sweat formed on her forward as she struggled. The sword appeared in her right hand just as the creature reached her. Aycria grasped it firmly and ducked under the arm of the creature and drove Dawnbreaker into the chest alongside the four ice pillars. She yanked the swords to the side as she stepped away from the creature, which screamed in agony as its side was ripped apart. As the creature vanished Aycria turned her sights onto the two Cassandra faced off against, just as Aycria took a step forward one vanished and the other attempted to take advantage of the warriors distraction.

“Oh, fuck off with that,” Aycria flung her hand forward willing her magic to create a solid barrier around Cassandra. The claws of the creature bounced off harmlessly. “Thank Sithis.” Aycria moved forward intending to aid Cassandra further but it was unnecessary as said woman cleaved the creature in half and it vanished. Cassandra rounded on Aycria and pointed her sword at her chest.

“Drop your weapon!” Cassandra demanded. Aycria’s lips quirked as she hefted the blade and rested it against her shoulder.

“You’re shitting right? I can summon several more weapons and I don’t intend on being weapon less against those creatures,” Aycria said. “Plus, I don’t need a weapon to be dangerous. I have magic and even without weapons or magic I am entirely capable of killing someone. But you should remember that I haven’t done that yet and I am joining you willingly.”

“Is that meant to reassure me?” Cassandra sighed sheathing her weapon.  “But you are right, you should have a weapon. I cannot protect you.” Cassandra looked away towards the Breach. “Come we must keep moving.”

“Speaking of weapons,” Aycria started causing Cassandra to turn back towards her. “I would have had a sword and a dagger with me. Tell me you have them and they were not lost somewhere in my journey here.”

“We have them.” Was all Cassandra responded with before turning away once again.

Aycria titled her head to the left as she studied Casandra, as far as Aycria was concerned this woman was the strangest she had ever met. Defensive one minute but then agreeable the next. ‘I guess Cassandra is similar to my Shield Brothers, toughen exterior hiding a big old softie inside, just like Vilkas,’ Aycria thought.

“You know, you never did answer one of my first questions,” Aycria casually stated as they walked towards the set of stairs that led up and away from the frozen water. “The Conclave.” She provided when Cassandra looked over at her in question.

“Ah, it was the Divine’s answer to the war between mages and templars. She brought together the two groups to try and broker peace between them, it was the only hope for Thedas to end the chaos,” Cassandra explained. “But that is now even more unlikely with the Divine dead and the Chantry in chaos after any who were liking to became the next Divine died at the Conclave.”

“Templars, what in Oblivion is a templar?” Cassandra stopped fully, shock on her face clear.

“You don’t know what templars are?” Cassandra asked confusion clear in her tone.

“Well, they certainly don’t exist in Tamriel or Skyrim and I am definitely starting to believe that I am in an entirely different world,” Aycria sighed. “Look I know if sounds insane but this place nothing is familiar. These words you’re saying have no meaning for me and the magicka here is weird and affecting mine. I can’t call on it as easily as I can in Skyrim and when it answers it is significantly weaker.”

“Weaker? You can cast so accurately without a staff and that is weaker?” Cassandra questioned. “That is incredible and very frightening.”

“Frightening-No, we keep going like this none of our questions will be answered,” Aycria waved her hand. “How about this, you answer my question about the Templars and I will answer your question about my magicka being weaker and staffs. And then we can go back and forth.”

“Alright,” Cassandra agreed. “Templars are or were members of the Chantry. The order was created to watch over mages in the Circles, to watch for signs of possession and to keep mages in the Circle. They would also travel and look for Apostates, mages who were not part of any Circle and bring them to one for their protection as well as those around them. Templars are able to purge a mages mana, take away their ability to cast.”

Aycria stared at her in disbelief, what remained of the hold on her temper was slipping away the longer Cassandra talked. Aycria seethed, her hands clenching into fists, her knuckles on her right hand whitened as her grip on Dawnbreaker grew tighter.

“And I thought Nords hated mages but at least they never imprisoned them,” Aycria growled.

“Imprison?! That is not what happens!”

“No? What else would you call be forced into these Circles? You said it yourself these Templars hunt down mages not inside them and force them to go there, the Templars prevent them from leaving. Sounds like a prison to me,” Aycria pointed out. “No wonder the mages started fighting back.”

“I-” Cassandra started before she reconsidered. “It is for their safety. Mages risk possession from demons in the Fade. The Circles teach them how to control their magic and how to best fight against possession.”

“Possession? Right that’s my next question,” Aycria decided and she took a deep breathe to try and quell her anger. “In Skyrim mages do not require a staff to cast, they can use one if they want a specific spell to be stronger but it is not required. I am not sure why but something is preventing me from calling up my magicka easily or in any decent amount which is making my spells weaker.” Aycria stopped walking for a moment and stabbed Dawnbreaker into the ground. She held both hands out in front of her and focused her magicka on summoning fire, it flickered in her hands before becoming solid. “Normally this little amount of fire would be so large it would cover both my hands. And it would have happened in a blink of an eye. But this, this is all I can manage. It’s, I don’t know if it’s because of the magicka here, the shit in my hand or the gaping hole in the sky but something here is causing this.”

Cassandra had taken a step back when the fire appeared her brow furrowed and her hand on the hilt of her sword. But one look at the confused and slightly afraid look in Aycria’s eyes caused her to relax slightly. When Aycria had calmly stated that she didn’t require a weapon of any kind to kill someone Cassandra had believed her, the statement was made with the confidence of someone with the skills to back it up. Cassandra had met many warriors in her life and all the of the skilled ones had the same energy surrounding them that this tiny woman had. But the look of fear in her Aycria’s eyes made something soften in Cassandra, made her want to help and that was something Cassandra had no idea how to handle.

“We need to keep moving,” Cassandra turned on her heel and continued marching up the steps. “We are getting closer to some of my people. I can hear the fighting.”

Aycria looked up from the pitiful display in her hands and huffed at the retreating warriors back. She pulled Dawnbreaker out of the ground and followed. She stopped as she sensed a burst of strange magicka, like the Breach but on a smaller scale.

“What is that?” she asked. Cassandra glanced at her. “It feels like the Breach but also like what’s emitting from my hand.”

“There is a rift up ahead,” Cassandra explained. “From what our mages have been able to tell, they’re small tears in into the fade that allow demons to enter without being summoned. A significant number of them have been appearing since the explosion.”

They crested the hill and came upon a small group fighting more of those demons and some even stranger ones. Aycria looked around trying to understand the battle field as Cassandra charged right in. These demons were remarkable. One was currently on fire, and another has very tall and had a long tail and long spindly arms and legs and made the most horrendous screeching noise. Aycria shifted her grip on Dawnbreaker, and reached for her magicka only to find it did not respond at all.

“Well, guess I am doing this the old Nord way,” she muttered. She leaped into battle carving up one of the demons that was encroaching on an incredibly short man with a crossbow. Aycria paused looking at the man tilting her head to the left and blinking a few times before the screams of one of the soldiers dragged her focus back to the fight.

‘That couldn’t be a Dwemer and yet he is very similar,’ she thought ducking under the arms of one of the tall demons as she slashed at its legs with Dawnbreaker causing it to screech in pain. ‘Huh that’s an elf, well guess that explains why they were not phased by my ears although his is a lot more pointy and longer.’

“Nice of you to join us, Seeker!” the crossbowman called before he disappeared into the shadows leaving behind smoke.

“What the shit?!” Aycria couldn’t help but stare at the space where he just was. In her distraction the demon that was on fire swung one of its arms towards her, however a wall of ice blocked it from reaching her. She spun staring from the ice to the elf who put it there. Sure, some members of the Thieves Guild could hide in the shadows but that required the blessing of Nocturnal and for there to be shadows readily available. They couldn’t just disappear like he did.

“I suggest you pay attention to what is going on around you,” he scolded.

“Fuck off!” She growled, turning back only to find that all the demons seemed to be dealt with. She walked closer to what could only be the Rift that Cassandra was explaining before. She felt drawn to it as does the shit in her hand. She raised her left hand towards the Rift.

“What are you doing?!” Cassandra asked but the elf put an arm out to stop her from getting closer to Aycria.

“I’m not sure,” Aycria felt the strange magicka in her hand respond to the Rift and it lit up before a string of light seemed to connect the two. “Ah!”

It hurt at first but that soon faded as a pulse like a heartbeat started up. The light around the Rift started to fade. Aycria tried to pull her hand away but the string just extended until the pulse started to slow and then rapidly speed up. Aycria allowed it to pull her hand forward before quickly closing her fist and yanking her hand down and backwards. The Rift seemed to close up before disappearing completely.

“Well, would you look at that,” the crossbowman sounded only slightly surprised that she was able to close the Rift.

“It seems my hypothesis was correct,” the elf murmured reaching for Aycria’s left hand. However, Aycria backed away and brought it towards her chest.

“Don’t go reaching for my hand you fuck,” she snarled. “Ask first. Fuck, don’t you have any manners?”

“Apologises,” although he didn’t seem overly apologetic. “The orb in your hand is definitely connected to the Breach and the Rifts. I believed that such a connection could be used to close the Rifts but to see it actually work-”

“Wait! You know what this green shit is?” Aycria waved her left hand around, green light still lingering around her palm.

“Not exactly, only that it appears to be a magical orb that fused with your hand somehow,” the elf explained. “I examined it while you were unconscious in Haven.”

“He means he kept it from killing you while you slept,” the crossbowman added. “I’m Varric, nice to meet my fellow prisoner.”  

“Fellow prisoner?” Aycria was growing more and more confused with this place. “So, is it a common occurrence for you people to let your prisoners run free?”

“Varric was not a prisoner, and he has been free to go since the destruction of the Temple,” Cassandra huffed.

“My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions,” the other elf smiled waving his hand.

Aycria attempted to smile but was sure it came across as more of a grimace. She felt off about this Solas but she was sure it was purely because he watched her while she was unconscious.

“We need to continue, we must get to the Forward Camp,” Cassandra interrupted moving onwards.

“Right, and how far is this camp?” Aycria asked following after her. She saw Varric and Solas look at each other before following.

“Seeker, I should mention that although it appears our friend here is a mage, I do not believe she has the power to rip open the sky,” Solas said.

“I am aware,” was all Cassandra responded with looking at Aycria briefly. “I do not believe that Aycria had anything to do with the destruction of the Temple.”

--

They came upon the gates to the forward camp but a Rift was blocking it. Aycria was tired and sore and annoyed. She had closed two more Rifts on the way here and she had been unable to call up any of her magicka and no matter how much she tried her Thum still didn’t answer and the Dragons were sounding further and further away. Whatever was affecting her magic also caused her to grow tired more easily when she fought.

“I hate these fucking things!” Aycria grumbled.

“Me too,” Varric said. Hefting his crossbow which he apparently calls Bianca and readying for the demons to come out as it opened. “Me too, Snowy.”

Oddly enough Aycria rather liked the nickname Varric decided to call her by. It made her feel like he was welcoming her even after she explained she was not from this world and that was why Cassandra believed her. And boy was that a surprise when the warrior stated that she didn’t think Aycria had anything to do with killing their Divine.

The demons walked out and the group leapt into action. Each Rift took longer to close. It kept letting demons out until it appeared to run out of energy to allow them through. Aycria closed it after the demons stopped coming through. Aycria had tried to close one of the Rift’s they had come across previously but it only seemed to dull it before it brought more demons through. Aycria stopped trying after that until the demons stopped.

Finally, the Rift was closed and the guards opened the gates at Cassandra’s orders. Walking through Aycria was surprised to see how many soldiers and what looked to be civilians here. Cassandra walked towards a table where a man in the same robes as the women back at Haven were wearing and the other woman who interrogated her stood staring down at a map. They both glanced up briefly upon hearing them walking towards them.

“Ah, there she is,” the man said straightening up and glaring at Aycria. “Arrest her seeker, I want her bound and ready to be taken to Val Royeaux!”

“No,” Cassandra said. “She is our only hope of closing the Breach and stopping the Rifts. Leliana we must gather our forces and march towards the Temple.”

“The Valley is gone, Seeker,” the man sighed.

“It is the quickest way to get to the Temple, we need to gather our forces,” Cassandra repeated her previous statement moving forward.

“The quickest but not the safest. There is another way to get to the Temple through the Mountain passes,” Leliana looked towards the mountains. “I was sending scouts through there but we lost contact with them.”

Aycria looked around mostly ignoring the conversation. It was unlikely that they would ask for her opinion on how to get the Temple. They just needed the Orb or whatever was in her hand. She wasn’t even sure that it would be enough to close the Breach, just closing the Rifts was difficult enough for her and the Breach was giving off a lot more powerful magicka.

“What do you think?” Cassandra asked turning to the woman who was staring up towards the Breach. Aycria glanced over at the others when the conversation seemed to stop to see them all looking at her.

“Wait, you’re asking me?” she questioned. “Seriously?”

“Yes, you’re the only one that can close the Breach, you should have a say in how we get to it,” Cassandra reasoned. Aycria rubbed the back of her neck and muttered something under her breath before turning to face them fully.

“If we take the mountain path the soldiers will have to act as a distraction, which would result in a large number of them mostly likely dying,” she said. “And if we don’t take the mountain path and charge with the soldiers the scouts lost in the path will mostly likely die. But we don’t even know if they are alive to begin with.”

“All very reasonable statements,” Solas agreed.

“Either way people are going to die,” Varric said.

“That is just an unfortunate fact of any battle,” Aycria pointed out. “Others are dying wherever those Rifts have appeared and we have no way of knowing if closing the Breach will close all of them but somehow, I don’t think it will.”

“We must make a decision,” Leliana said.

“I have never been one to allow soldiers to act as a distraction for me,” Aycria straightened her shoulders from the slump they had been in during the conversation. “We’ll charge with the soldiers. Leliana, I’m sorry about your Scouts but we have no way of knowing if they are even still alive and if us charging with the soldiers prevents more of them dying then that I what I want to do.”

“I understand,” Leliana nodded her voice cold. Aycria paused before turning to face Cassandra who was looking at her with something almost like respect on her face.

“Let us go then, Leliana gather our forces, all that is left,” Cassandra ordered. “We make for the Temple of Sacred Ashes.”

--

Aycria was panting after she closed the Rift that the demons were coming through. The soldiers had railed and worked together to take them out. Aycria was feeling her energy waning. She hoped she had enough to close the big shit. Cassandra was standing close to her, having noticed that she was struggling.

“Seeker, you managed to close the Rift I see,” the blonde man who had led the charge walked towards them. “Well done.”

“It wasn’t me Commander,” Cassandra stated. “It was Aycria.” She motioned towards said woman who took a deep breath and stood straight hiding the struggle she was facing.

“Ah yes, the prisoner,” the Commander looked her up and down in a calculating way. “Let’s hope it works on the big one.” He nodded before turning around to help a soldier who was limping. “I’ll leave the rest to you and Leliana, Seeker.”

“Of course,” Cassandra nodded turning back to Aycria who was staring after the Commander with her head tilted to the left. “We must continue on.”

“I get it,” Aycria muttered. “Will have to explain to me the whole Seeker thing when we get a chance.” Cassandra smiled softly before nodding and leading the way to the Temple.

“I also have other questions for you,” Cassandra said.

--

On the way toward the ground of the Temple voices started echoing through the remains of the Temple. A man’s voice demanding something and a woman’s voice who Cassandra identified as the Divine Justina. And then her voice. Aycria’s voice sounding confused and lost, yet still demanding to know what was going on.

“You were there,” Cassandra gasped.

“I don’t know I swear, if I was here something happened to me and I lost my memories, along with other things,” Aycria swore looking towards her. “I promise.”

“I-” whatever Cassandra was going to say was interrupted by Justina’s voice calling out for help and Aycria answering.

“Don’t know who you are but let her go you ugly fuck,” Varric paused at the tone in Aycria’s voice. It was quiet and deadly, like nothing he had ever heard before not even Hawkes voice ever got like it. It was full of power and authority.

“You tried to help,” Varric pointed out. “Wait, Red Lyrium, what is it doing here?”

“What is Red Lyrium?” Aycria asked. “Wait never mind, let’s wait until this is taken care off.”

--

Turns out closing the Breach was not as easy as it sounded. Though it wasn’t exactly a surprise. Aycria had to open the Rift that was below it and linked to the giant Breach in the sky. Solas believed closing it was also close the Breach. And of course, opening it let out a bunch of demons including one giant motherfucker who had whips made of lightning because of course.

It took all of them working together to kill it. Solas managed to get its barriers down long enough for the archers around the Temple and Varric to bring it down to its knees. Cassandra slashed at its stomach as Aycria gathered what was left of her strength and leaped at its head using its knees as leverage. She gripped Dawnbreaker with both hands and brought it down with all the strength of her Dragon blood taking off its head.

“Now close it!” Solas shouted.

“Give me a fucking minute Egghead!” Aycria shouted back, after regaining her feet. “Sithis.”

She took a deep breath and held her hand up to the Rift. The string of green light leaped out of her hand and attached itself to the one coming out of the Rift. A humming of the strange magicka started up stronger than before.

“Ah!” Aycria gritted her teeth and fell to one knee. She could feel a burning a pain in her hand as the green glow encased it. “Come on you shit! Close!”

Aycria felt the burning die down and the humming slowed. She started to close her hand and yanked it back like all the other times. The string of green light broke and a rush a magicka exploded from it and went towards the Rift. Aycria fell backwards gasping for air. Her vision whiting out. She heard Cassandra calling for her, Varric dropping down beside her, and Solas standing over her staring at her with wonder and confusion in his eyes before he looked up towards the Breach. Aycria followed his gaze. The burst of magicka reached the Breach but before Aycria could see what happened she felt her consciousness wane. Her vision going black. And then nothing.

[hanakin-starwalker]

Me, your Writer doesn’t actually know what she’s doing.

Eheheh. My mum hasn’t checked on me today.

A Chance Meeting

Ch1

Words, 723

Harry Potter books/Tes crossover

Pure crack

[divine-adeline]

hello ghouls and goblins and inigo enjoyers. my sudden hiatus is now up and im balling on these hoes. the next and FOURTEENTH chapter of is it fate or blahblah will be up tomorrow. sian’s doing some character development, inigo’s crackin jokes and crackin skulls and the enemies to lovers arc continues.

[theworldwonder]

These two will be the death of me🤤🤤

PEEP KAIDAN IN THE BACKGROUND 👀👀

[aftanith]

With a Hunger to Swallow the World... 

Malene wakes on a cart to Helgen, where an Imperial axman waits to chop off her head. Then her day gets worse.

With Skyrim's civil war raging on at the behest of Ulfric Stormcloak and the Aldmeri Dominion breathing down the neck of the empire, everything was already bad enough before dragons started reappearing in the skies for the first time since the Merethic Era. But as Mal soon discovers, the situation is far worse than anyone could have ever imagined: Alduin the World-Eater has returned to Mundus to either enslave the world or end it.

With the help of a snarky housecarl named Lydia, a bloodthirsty elven mercenary named Jenassa, and a hopeless hero-wannabe named Hjoromir, Malene will rise to embrace her destiny as Dragonborn--even if it means going to Sovngarde and back to save the world.

[t0rturedangel]

╭ . . . a guide to becoming noticeable ੭

• ➛ PART ONE

Why is it that its always the last period of the day that it seems like time has slowed down? That's the question you were thinking as you watched the hands of the clock tick their way around, your eyes slowly blinking as you weren't able to process anything the teacher was waffiling on about, instead calculating how long it will take until the end of the dreadful lesson though it was proven to be difficult as you were on the edge of falling asleep.

and just when you least expected it, God answered your prayers and the bell rung causing all chaos to rein over the classroom, each student within scrambling to get their stuff into their bags and run out of the room. Luckily, you had packed your stuff away early so you had a chance to be one of the first to leave instead of being pressed against all the other people in the door frame.

Leaving everyone in that room behind you took a breath of air, looking around noting that the hallways were filled with, thankfully, not that many people only 3 to 6 crowds of friend groups standing around chatting about their plans for after school, ignoring them and their side glares you maneuvered you way to your locker where two familiar people stood, one happily talking and the other listening silently.

" Hey guys " you greeted, smiling at the two as their heads turned. The shorter of the pair's eyes and smile widened, he rushed forward and wrapped his arms around you squeezing you, practically crushing you while rambling on about how much he's happy to see you as if you hadn't seen him less than 2 hours ago, BUTTERS'S looks defiantly deceive how strong he actually is, since the boy is so much stronger than people give him for, you swear he could easily pick up ERIC CARTMAN but that's up for debate. " BUTTERS! SHIT- YOU'RE CRUSHING ME " you gasped slapping his back, begging for freedom from his grip but it seemed that your pleading fell onto deaf ears as his grip didn't loosen but rather became even stronger causing you to struggle against him even more.

You swear you were about to pass out due to lack of oxygen if it were not for the other person, DOVAHKIIN , to pull the blonde away from you causing a frown to form on his face which almost -almost- made you want to let butters latch onto you again but thankfully you only lost oxygen and not your logic too. " Thanks Dovah- Butter's you almost killed me via asphyxiation " Dovahkiin nodded at your thanks to them and patted both your and Butter's shoulders not uttering a word, like usual. The popular kid seemed to never want to talk to anyone, they couldn't even be bribed into it- you know from first hand experience and it seemed that even though they were extremely popular with everyone- due to an old stupid game they played with all the 'popular' kids at this school back when they first moved in called 'The stick of Truth'- they always choose to hang around you, Butter's and Scott which you appreciated since they're chill- one of the chillest but maybe its because they never fucking talked.

" Where's SCOTT? " You asked, tilting your head " Oh yeah! I forgot to tell you- Scott's at the Principles office for walking out of the lesson " " Thats like the fifth time he's done this " you groaned, its true Scott was trying to get a reputation of being a 'bad boy' so he could fit in with the popular kids since he hated being one of the 'outcasts' but that didnt mean he hated you guys he just didnt like being bullied. Speaking of Scott, you heard his desperate pleas for help and another voice screaming a him to quote ' Get your ass back here you lispy bastard '

Immediately Scott was seen running away from a very pissed of STAN MARSH, the school's star quarter back, screaming apologies- causing havoc in the hall. Within practical seconds, Scott was behind you, shaking- Stan glaring at both of you. " Move, reject. " Stan demanded calling you by the stupid nickname you've gain by most of the kids at the school, his fists shaking as his blood boiled, your lack of response was weird, weather it was because of fear, or literally anything else you didn't say anything and you didn't even look at him causing the boy Infront of you to grow even more pissed, his anger now directed to you, Scott shook stepping away from behind you to Dovah and Butters, knowing the Stan will probably want to fight you he didn't want to get into the cross fire. Now you and the black haired teen were having a stare down (it was more like Stan was glaring daggers at you while you looked down to the floor). As much as Stan wanted to punch you for not moving he didn't, maybe it was because one of his best friend's Dovah was there but it's not like you'll ever know, before turning back he shoved you which obviously made you stumble back and fall due to your stupid choice of letting your guard down. " Ow! " You yelped landing on your ass, everyone around you (excluding your friends and Stan) let out quiet giggles or pitiful comments at your misfortune. Looking up you registered that the marsh kid was gone, most likely at his girlfriend's, Wendy's, side the two of them always on a 'on and off' relationship.

Butters stood by your side after making sure Stanley was far away, a saddened look on his face a hand out for you to grab, which you did and easily stood up. " Thanks butters, fuck that hurt " you groaned " I had a pen in my back pocket, so I think I stabbed my cheeks, they're like one of the bests part of me " Scott pulled a grossed out face, Butters's worry grew and Dovah . . . well, Dovah stared at you mentally agreeing with you " Ew [ Name ] ! Don't say that! " "Shut up Scott! It's your fault this happened " you snapped back, flipping the boy off and as much as you wanted to fight him you knew that it wouldn't be the best idea so you just began to walk off, Butters and Dovah quickly joining your side leaving a very pissy Scott behind, who trailed slowly behind complaining how 'you could've moved' and that he would've been able to 'out run Stan' making you laugh " Nice joke Scott " you wiped a fake tear from your eye " I wasn't joking ! " " Uh huh as if your slow ass could ever out run Stan " " I could! I did it just a few minutes ago! " " Barely! He was like centimetres away from grabbing you and beating you to a bloody pulp "

The two of you kept squabbling as you neared the exit of the school's building. " Uhm hey fellas I gotta go now! If I don't get back home soon my parents will ground me! " Giving you three a smile he turned around and left, two out of the three of you returning the smile. " And then there were three " you shoved your hands into the pockets of your trousers " more like two, I need a go too ya know " " Yes yes, bye bye Scott we won't miss you " you blinked at him innocently " Fuck you " and with that Scott was gone.

Now that you were left alone with Dovah as company all of your attention was on them " Sorry I wasn't talking much to you Dovah, Scott was there. " No response no reaction from them and yet you could perfectly understand their emotions and what they wanted to 'tell' you " Awh, thanks, now. " You turned your head to the direction of the car park " Let's go home " with a nod the two of you were off to go find your car. Quiet a long time ago the both of you had saved enough and pulled through to buy a pretty decent car, it was rather modern and relatively fast so in your guys' eyes it was perfect.

As soon as you found your car you got in, both in you respective seats yours being the passenger seat and Dovah's being the divers, for the life of you you never knew why they were obsessed with being the driver, every time you asked or even suggested the idea of you driving they simple shook their head and clutched onto the car keeps protectively- it wasn't like you were a bad driver, you passed your car test or whatever its called with flying colours! You sighed as you sat comfortably in your seat, well as comfortable as you can get when the sting of a pen stabbing your butt was still there.

" Come on Dovah, start the car let's get home yeah? " You asked, putting you seatbelt on but when you didn't hear the car start you looked over to meet their face " Dovah? " They gave you a look " what is it Dovah? " Pulling out their phone they showed you a tweet Wendy posted a few days ago about a party " uh- Dovah Why'd you - " looking away from the phone to Dovah you were caught of guard by his puppy dog eyes " Dovah. Dovah no. " You narrowed your eyes trying not to be tempted by the desperate look in his eyes " Dovah stop. " He, in fact, did not stop " Dova- " 'please' he mouthed intensifying his puppy dog eyes to the point where it would seem out right criminal to say no

" Fine. Will that make you happy " he nodded seeming to be happy though his face very clearly didn't show it, patting your shoulder before turning back to start the car, that was stupid- you would've said yes even without the puppy eyes since you loved to party. You shook your head, pulling your own phone out, staring at the tweet 'next friday' huh? That's three day away. You turned your phone off and stared ahead, watching all the cars fall behind us as Dovahkiin drove at a life sentence type of speed, he always drove quickly even though you've (multiple times) reprimanded him for it he never stopped and never seemed to get in trouble for it, he had a way of getting out of trouble really easily it was scary.

Making it to your house was the quickest trip ever, it was almost seconds. Before getting out you smiled at your friend, thanking him for the ride he'd given you and walked to the front of your house, sighing as you got ready to open the door and fall asleep on the couch.

Three days until the party.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Dark Knowledge: Part Three

Miraak x Hermaeus Mora x Female Dragonborn Reader

Chapter Specific Warnings: body horror, tentacle sex, dubcon, power imbalance

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Part Three of Dark Knowledge

Hermaeus Mora gains a secret. You make your escape.

Part Two // Part Four

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // dark knowledge masterlist

“Now, Dovahkiin. I would like that secret.”

Knowledge for knowledge.

That is what you promised Hermaeus Mora. A deal was made, and you must follow through.

“What sort of secret?” you whisper, leaning back as if you could escape the Daedric Prince. The four tentacles that hold you up in the air vibrate as you shift your weight away from Hermaeus Mora.

“Are you allowing me the choice?” He sounds amused, and you distinctly dislike it.

“No,” you reply, knowing that giving him the decision to select which memory to take is an unthinkable option. “I will make the choice.”

Hermaeus Mora hums softly, his tentacles tightening around your limbs. You’re perhaps a few feet off the ground at most. With these tentacles around your limbs, Mora holds you close to eye-level. In this humanoid form, Mora is tall, almost seven feet.

It is such a strange thing to see a god attempt to be human in any capacity. What was twisting around in Mora’s mind that made him take this form? Why did he believe this would ease your discomfort?

“Then it is your choice,” he replies. “And I will savor whatever you wish to reveal to me.” Mora’s voice is a subtle purr. It is a tone you might hear from a lover’s lips. Is the Daedric Prince taunting you on purpose?

As if human, Mora breathes deep, the inhalation loud. But there is no exhalation, and there is no warm breath against your skin. His form expands. Ripples slightly as if in pleasure. Revulsion blooms in your chest and creeps out into your limbs.

From over his shoulders come four slim tentacles. They slide over Hermaeus Mora and reach out for you. There is no possibility of your escape, and you watch as they move closer, the tips wiggling and stretching. Then they are on you, sliding everywhere.

“Those that follow me and bend to my will do not find my intrusions painful. But since you have yet to know my true influence, I will make sure there is none.”

“How will you do that?” You don’t recognize your own voice. It is soft. Nearly inaudible.

Hermaeus Mora does not tell you with a word but with a touch.

His hand lifts, hovering just above the fabric that separates him from your left breast. The singular eye in the center of his head is focused on that spot. The Prince of Fate hesitates for a moment before closing the distance.

There is nothing human about this touch.

Hermaeus Mora squints, as if thinking, and then his movement changes to that of what would happen if this were a mortal movement. He cups your breast softly, lightly squeezing before his thumb brushes over the nipple through the fabric.

An unknown urge, an eldritch pleasure, stirs in your core. The feeling is strange, and so at odds with what your mind is thinking. Your brain is a fire of revulsion and interest. It is intrigued and yet mortified that you are at his mercy.

One of the four tentacles slithers over and around his arm, accompanying the movement of his hand. Together, they form an unearthly dance of hand and tentacle seeking to draw pleasure from you. At first, the sensation is so odd that you don’t respond at all. But slowly, almost as if not realizing the change, your core begins to warm, and you sense a wetness between your legs.

A second tentacle appears, and it moves toward your other breast. It joins in the dance, and soon you begin to surrender, pieces of you fracturing like fragments of shattered stone. The second tentacle curls around the nipple, lightly tugging as the very tip swishes back and forth. The thin fabric draped over your body does nothing to dampen the sensation.

The two remaining tentacles delve downward, first wrapping around your calves, then venturing upward over your thighs and to the space between them. Hermaeus Mora’s hand draws away from your breast even as his tentacles remain.

“I have witnessed and recorded the mortal forms of mating,” says Mora slowly. “I have yet to put any of that knowledge to use until now.”

The two tentacles slide further up your thighs, and then branch outward, coming together between you and Hermaeus Mora’s bodies. Together, they sink down down down until the joined limbs press against your entrance.

“Look at me, Dovahkiin.”

Hermaeus Mora’s command is a blow. It is sharp as steel. There is no room for refusal. You are in his realm, and his voice holds authority here.

You glance away from the tentacles to his singular eye. While there is no mouth or nose or cheekbones to show his emotions, you still sense that he’s smiling somehow. That Hermaeus Mora is grinning with pleasure at his control over you.

Something wet brushes against your clit. It is not his horrid hand and you do not need to look to know that it is but another tentacle. Yet another appendage exploring your body. This one suctions against your clit, using its naturally, wet flesh to rotate back and forth, creating a vortex of motion that quickly pulls you to the brink of an orgasm.

The stuttering breath from your lungs earn you a deep, rumbling chuckle from Mora. It simmers, and then filters out, his shoulders heaving slightly as if the Daedric Lord is prideful of his actions.

“How does this feel?” he asks. There is a detachedness to his tone, as if he’s observing you like an experiment. But that is what you are after all. You are not the Dragonborn in Hermaeus Mora’s realm but a tool for him to hoard. There is no such thing as freewill or choices with him.

Everything is a game.

Everything is a trap.

“Your touch repulses me,” you reply, making sure your tone is biting.

“Oh. No.” Hermaeus Mora chuckles. “You cannot lie to me in my own realm, Dovahkiin. I see all. I know all.”

“Then you already know how I feel. Why ask?”

“Your venom is not nearly as deadly as you believe it to be,” comes his reply. You feel scolded, and that only makes you angry.

Your hands curl into fists. “Let me give you my secret and be done with this.”

Hermaeus Mora retreats slightly. The inky, watery flesh of his humanoid form ripples like the waters beyond this tower. But it is momentary. Quick. Like a pebble plopped into a still pool. It all returns to normal.

“You entered my realm. You came to me. You sought knowledge. Fate brought you here, and fate is what brings us together now.”

There is another light twist of the tentacle around your clit. This one pulls forth a moan from between your lips. It is unbidden, and completely surprising. It happens again, and that is when the two joined tentacles begin to push in.

The intrusion is not painful. It is actually pleasant and your body surrenders to it, feeding into the gentle, pulsing sway of them inside you. The tentacle at your clit works in tandem, the three appendages working you right back over the edge.

As you squirm, and writhe, the tentacles holding onto your limbs shift. They lift you a bit higher, and then you’re tipping slightly, legs brought upward, only to bend at the knees and be pushed toward your chest.

You’re being presenting and it is both demeaning and luscious.

Hermaeus Mora brings you closer, and then his arms are around your body, his head dipping in an act that seems far too intimate.

“I’ll have that secret now.”

Mora is right. There is no pain. The tentacles moving between your legs keeps all your focus there, even as he draws you closer to his body. You’re nearly pressed up against him. One of his arms slides up your back to wrap around your throat.

Sprouting from his head, little tentacles come rushing forward. They break over your face and meander toward your nose, mouth, and ears. You try to scream but only manage to choke around them as they enter your mouth.

“Relax,” coos Hermaeus Mora. “Let me in. Bask in my presence.”

The tentacles playing with your clit brushes over you in a way that has your body seizing. This flattens the barrier, and Mora’s connection to your mind is instantaneous.

It is a dull explosion. Bright. Loud. Yet also incredibly calm. He moves through your memory, and you can feel it, as if the tentacles are sliding over, around, and in your brain. It is awful, and yet it feels like nothing at all.

Your lips begin to form words, words that tell him that it is your choice. That the memory you pick is one that you select. He is not to grab and pull whatever he likes.

But Hermaeus Mora does not listen to mortal wishes. He shifts through everything, and then you sense the halt—the collective pause.

“What is this?” His tone is cautious but curious. At first, you’re unsure of what Mora is seeing, but as he accesses the memory, it all becomes clear.

“So…that is what the Greybeards hoard atop their mountain. How…selfish of them.”

Shredded wings, missing teeth, and aged dragon scales flare in your mind. You glimpse the eyes of immortality and power. Hermaeus Mora sees it all too, and he clings to this memory, not allowing it to slip away.

Around the image of Paarthrnax there is dullness, one that intensifies into bright white until you’re completely thrust from your own head and back into Apocrypha.

“Your memory is…delicious.” The word curls in the air as if Mora is savoring it like a fine meal.

All the tentacles have retreated from you other than the four that originally held you. “You said a secret. That is not a secret.”

“But it is, Dovahkiin. It is a secret you keep. And now it is a secret I know.”

“But I told you I would give you one.”

“And so you did,” he says simply.

Your lips curl back, showing your teeth. Hermaeus Mora seems unbothered by the whole affair, continuing like he doesn’t care about your display of anger.

“I see why Miraak’s devotees were after you. They sought to kill you, which is such a shame since Miraak only wants you brought to him.”

Your feral snarl ebbs slightly. “He—what?”

Slowly, the tentacles bring you back to the floor. They retreat suddenly, disappearing into Mora’s form.

Hermaeus Mora’s dark laugh swirls around you like his tentacles. “As a guest in my realm, you are under my protection.” The humanoid shape he molded himself into starts to melt. He begins to lean to the right, the shine of his body rippling like boiling water. The liquification of body and tentacle is horrid. Putrid. Even the eye molts.

You stumble backward, falling on your ass as Hermaeus Mora becomes liquid.

As if there are cracks in the floor, he starts to seep into the stone, disappearing into the rock before there is nothing left of him.

You don’t move. Every inch of you is cold and alert, completely startled by his sudden dissolving.

“Dovahkiin,” comes Mora’s voice and it is everywhere. “No harm will befall you. I will see to it that Miraak does not find you while you haunt my halls.”

Two Seekers drift into the small place, their hands outstretched instructing for you to follow them. You don’t want to go. This place is starting to worm its way inside you. Already, you feel Mora’s alluring pull.

Perhaps it’s because he dug around in your head. Or, worse, the Prince of Fate made you into a whimpering mess that gave in. The very thought is embarrassing, and shame rises in your stomach. You are no one’s property. You belong only to yourself.

And the words are a lie.

You peel yourself off the ground, and the Seekers float into position, one in front and one behind. When you enter the main room where Mora’s most loyal followers work, they do not even look up at you.

Did they hear you in there moaning for their god? Shame creeps in again, and you purposefully stare at the back of the Seeker in front of you. You’re returned to your cage, and you do not want to crawl inside. Now that you’re on the outside looking in, you are not a guest in Hermaeus Mora’s halls but a pet. A plaything. Something he can chew up and spit out once he’s drained you of your memories.

What will happen to you then?

Instead of resisting, you crawl back in, curling up in a tight ball. You keep your back to the cage door, gaze focused on the wall in front of you. The cage is built into it, the metal bars imbedded in the wall.

A plan begins to take shape in your mind. Slowly, you reach out, your fingers brushing at the wall. It is not as hard you first believed it to be. It’s not stone or rock but something slightly fleshy.

With the right Shout, could you rip a hole in the wall? If you manage that, where would it lead you to? Empty air? Another room? Would Hermaeus Mora know your intent before you did it and come to stop you?

Is he even capable of that?

You’re not entirely sure, and you certainly do not wish to dwell in this cage until he calls on you again. You refuse to be his puppet. The answers you sought when you entered Apocrypha are unimportant now. Miraak’s temple is heavily guarded, but you’ll take the risk infiltrating it rather than trying to seek out knowledge in Mora’s halls.

Breaking through will create noise, and you don’t even know if your Thu’um has returned to you. Hermaeus Mora did not take it away, but he did manage to silence it for a time. When does that expire? Can he reset the clock once it’s up?

Running your tongue over your teeth, you consider your options, and settle on a quiet Shout.

“Feim,” you speak into the air.

You’re pushed into the ethereal form, and though it is temporary and lasts for only a handful of seconds, your Thu’um is back.

Shifting until you’re facing the wall, you sit up enough that you’re not crammed into the small space. You scoot across the stone until your back presses against the bars. Steadying your breathing, you inhale, and then release an unrelenting force of power.

“Fus Ro Dah!”

The force of your Voice batters against the soft wall. Some of it gives, but most of it bounces back and smashes into you. The back of your head bangs against the bars and you slide to the floor, clutching your head, groaning. Through parted fingers, you glance at the wall.

It’s still standing.

You laugh and it sounds like drowning.

This is mad. This is insane. Crazy.

Is Hermaeus Mora’s control finally taking hold? Did his tentacles that moved inside you slip a bit of his influence into your body. He grew no appendage like a mortal man, nor did he finish like they do.

But Mora is a god. He is not bound to the laws that the races of Tamriel are held to.

Your spread out on your hands and knees, shifting your body across the floor like a Mudcrab until you reach the wall of your enclosure. Running your fingers along it, you test the portion of the wall where your Thu’um made contact. It gives a bit, and you flex your palm, pressing.

Some of that fleshy wall gives, until a small portion of it falls away. It isn’t large, and not big enough to put your hand through. Using your nails, you start to scratch and pull at the material, more of it falling away. The texture is almost gelatinous, and as the hole grows bigger, you’re able to stare into it.

Through the hole you glimpse towering spires and connecting bridges. You shift position, glimpsing the murky water below. A lone tentacle breaches the surface, slithering up from the depths, squirming around in the air as if seeking something. Maybe is senses you, and this is Mora’s way of silently instructing you to cease.

Yet, there is hope.

There is no deep drop or immediate fall. You glimpse bars. Black metal like your cage? At least, that is what it appears to be. You can’t reach it to find out, but it does look to be the same. You claw at the wall again, this time with renewed energy.

More of the fleshy material falls into the cell or outward. The hole grows larger as you pull more of it away. The smile that spreads across your face is a feral one. From behind you, beyond the archway that leads into the room holding your cage, comes the distinct screech of the Seekers. They heard your Thu’um, and you are running out of time.

With renewed vigor, you rip and tear, not caring is you split nail or skin. All of that can heal. Your freedom is the most important thing.

The screeching becomes louder, striking down to your heart, sending your limbs into an agitated, frantic spin as you try to make your escape route wider.

A hurling, rippling force of air slams into your back. It shoves you forward against the wall. When you make contact, it bends outward. Another rippling force of air follows the next. The wall gives a bit more.

You turn your head toward the room. Two Seekers float just beyond the bars, their face mandibles flaring with agitation. Their hands extended outward, and you put all your pressure against the crumbling wall.

Together, they release another wave, and you grin in victory.

The wall gives. You fall backward.

And roll out into the curved embrace of those black metal bars.

There is a peace for a few seconds. And that metal shifts, revealing not bars but tentacles. Sudden horror of the implication flows into you like a thunderstorm. The tentacles wiggle. Bend outward. Unfurl.

There is only air. A hover before the descent.

Then you’re falling.

Fast—so fast it seems impossible—toward the inky water below.

Part Two // Part Four

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @singleteapot @tiredmetalenthusiast @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @wrathofcats

[furorem-yandere]

What would the night routine with a yan!Alduin and a female Dovahkiin? What do they do to settle down? How would they sleep together? Also, I love your writing!🥰

I’m so sorry I never got to this before you deactivated TToTT.... I hope you still find this sometime!!!

“Are you almost done, dii lokaal?”

You look up sleepily from you place in the hot spring.  Ebony scales gleam at you from the dark as your master awaits you from your shared nest.  Red eyes flash unblinkingly as he stares shamelessly at your body, mostly hidden by the steam and water.  “I am winding down.  Do you not wish my comfort and rest?” you ask calmly, finding your words a bit slurred.  Your muscles have long since unwound from their tight spools, and you now linger only out of indulgence.

“I wish you to rest with me,” he demands.

You know better than to disobey a direct order.

You sigh and slowly haul yourself out of the spring, drying yourself with the cloth nearby before wrapping yourself simply in dry robes.  You had already eaten, having cooked the prey brought to you (despite the dragon’s irritation with the fact you couldn’t simply eat it raw and insisted on cooking your food) and now that you had finished your bath, there was only rest to be had.

The World Eater raised his head and unfurled his long body slightly.  His tail swept back and he raised the wing closest to you, raising his head to watch you properly get into the mossy nest, dragging blankets and comforts with you.

“At last,” the beast grumbled to himself.  “You will not take so long next time”.

You chuffed in amusement. “I will not?”

A single cinder glared down from above.  “You will not.  Zu’u saraan nau nid joor”.  Smoke plumed from his nostrils as his scaled lips drew back in an irate sneer.  “I wait on no mortal”.

“I saw it more so as you pampering me, my lord.  I would not suspect you of waiting,” you offer, getting particular about your pillows, settling them against his scaled hide so you would not be awoken by something pressing uncomfortably to you.  “I am always grateful for your patience with spoiling me”.

A second plume has you coughing and your eyes burning as his head lowers to your face.  “Is this what the joor refer to as sarcasm?”

“Perhaps”.

“It is much less funny than I have been told”.

You smile and settle down, wrapping your furs and blankets around you snugly as the great black dragon curls his head under his wing and next to you.  An eye the size of a tea saucer stares at you, the only illumination under the curtain of his great wing, blotting out the moonlight.  In your greatly relaxed state, you stare and reach your hand out to stroke the fine scales under his eye and cheek.  You know he will not slumber; he has no need to, and will watch you, unblinking, for all the hours you are most vulnerable.  You have long had to make peace with this arrangement.

“Laag,” the World Eater commands.  Unbidden, your eyelids grow even heavier.  “Hi engein wah zey”.

[totally-not-deacon]

Chapters: 9/12 Fandom: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Nebarra (Elder Scrolls)/Original Female Character(s), Nebarra (Elder Scrolls)/Dragonborn, Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Nebarra (Elder Scrolls) Characters: Nebarra (Elder Scrolls), Lucien Flavius, Inigo the Brave (Elder Scrolls), Xelzaz (Elder Scrolls), Other Character Tags to Be Added, Bosmer Dovahkiin | Dragonborn (Elder Scrolls) Summary: Marasa was just here to make coin, not friends. Of course, nothing in her life had ever gone according to plan. How else would she find herself out in the ass-end of the Empire, doing jobs for the same people she’d happily have put in the ground thirty years ago? In the forests of Falkreath, a chance encounter with a kindred spirit turned her life on its head. Now she found herself being dragged, kicking and screaming, into something far bigger than she ever could have imagined - all the while learning the past doesn’t always like to stay that way. At least this time, she wouldn’t be alone if it all fell apart.

🎉🎉🎉 GUESS WHO'S BACK BABY, AND BRINGIN' THE SMUT!!! 🎉🎉🎉

I finally had the time to finish this one, and so now I gift it to y'all.

Enjoy, ya filthy animals.

[3xm-draconic]

Bloodline of the Last Dragon.

Season 1/Episode 7: The Return.

Cicero sat in a field of nightshade with Mattilda, just the two of them in a meadow of the violet blossoms, he knew he needed to tell her…but he didn’t want to.

He wanted to keep her, she was his special friend…his companion…

He didn’t want to lose her or see her get hurt.  

But…

“Hey Cicero?…” she turned to him, he nearly jumped at her voice. It had been so dreadfully quiet, “oh yes dearest Mattilda?” He turned to her looking into her silvery eyes…sweet Sithis he had grown to adore the shimmering color of her eyes, bright like a well burnished blade.

“I…have something to confess to you”, “oh?...well…Cicero dose too” he sighed, better to get it over with…

She turned to him with a slight awkward and shy grin on her face, “Cicero…” she softly said, her voice was as lovely to him as cool rain on a hot summer night “your special to me…” she hummed sweetly “and I wanted to ask you if…perhaps…you’d like…to be my boyfriend?”

The words came before Cicero had time to process them…

“YES” he shouted.

Only then did he realize he’d dug himself into a deeper hole…

.

(Falkreath Sanctuary)

.

Cicero sat in his room dreading bringing Mattilda into the brotherhood, she wouldn’t like it here, she would hate it and she would grow to hate him…

But…wait…

He remembered something…a loophole…

She was part of the Thieves Guild, he remembered Astrid and the Guild have an alliance worked out…that means if she found out about him…he wouldn’t technically have to force her to join the brotherhood.

But it still ment he had to tell the others about her…

…

The rest of the brotherhood had settled down to dinner together when Cicero appeared before them, “well looked what the cat dragged in” Astrid mumbled.

“Finally having dinner with the rest of us?” Nazir eyed him “I’am shocked”, “oh be nice” Festus grumbled “here have a plate” he tried to offer the keeper a plate of roasted venison with apple jam but Cicero politely declined it.

“Cicero has something to tell you all” he took a shaky breath “Cicero…has…been seeing someone”

Astrid immediately leapt from the table and stuck a knife to his throat “I KNEW YOU WERE A TRAITOR!” she hissed, “Astrid wait!” Babbett cried “let him finish, it’s not what you think”, “Babbs?...you knew?” she stared in disbelief at the unchild, “he told me to keep it a secret” she shrugged.

Astrid let him up “Alright Fool…what is your secret?” she hissed venomously at him…

Cicero was quiet at first “...Cicero…has been seeing this girl…she likes Cicero and Cicero likes her…”, “well that's complete bullshit” Arnbjorn grumbled. “ARN!” Babbett snapped, “there ain't no way in the void there is ANYONE who would romantically wanna be involved with him” Arnbjorn shrugged, Veezara nodded “your story is a little hard to believe”.

Cicero balled his fists in anger “CICERO WILL PROVE TO YOU HE HAS A GIRLFRIEND! HE’LL BRING HER OVER TO THE TAVERN TO MEET YOU TOMORROW!” he snapped.

Arnbjorn laughed “the day you have a girlfriend is the day Night Mother chooses a listener!”

Cicero began to laugh hysterically “GOOD!” he howled

.

(The next day)

.

Mattilda was overjoyed to be meeting some of Cicero’s folks! 

She had used some of her saved up gold to go all out on beauty supplies so she could look her best, gotta make a good first impression after all.

“It looks like a soup” Mattilda said as she fished a flower out of the bubbly bath, it had a little milk and tea in it too, “a soup that will do wonders dear, afterall we don’t want you smelling like a barn” Kit’Tay chuckled as she unceremoniously tossed her into the bath.

She then poured soap onto her hair and viciously started to scrub it into Mattilda’s scalp “OW!” she yelped and pulled away from her, “oh quit being a big baby, pain is beauty”, “if pain is beauty then I’d rather stay ugly” she groaned. 

Kit’Tay then took clay, charcoal, salt, a little honey and butter. 

She mixed it in a bowl and into a paste, she then took a hard scrubbing brush and proceeded to scrub the paste into Mattilda’s skin like she was trying to scrub grease off a pan.

After what felt like hours of this torture the bath had finnaly finished.

Mau’Mau then applied makeup to her face, using delicate hands she enhanced Mattilda’s face by lining her eyes in black and shadowing them with deep browns and golds to accentuate the silvery–blue of her eyes, her lips were then painted a soft red and her cheeks blushed.

Lastly was the dress.

Mau had it specially shipped from Radiant Raiment in Solitude, a slim black dress that hugged the curves and accentuated the bust. When Mattilda slipped it on she felt…fierce.

She had always hidden her appearance…now…she was showing it off. 

“So just who is this mystery man?” Mau’Mau asked her, “Cicero, his name is Cicero”, Mau paused a dreadful look on her face “short imperial man, red hair?...jester?” she gawked, “yeah…how do you?” Mattilda pondered.

“Sugarbean…be careful…he…is part of the dark brotherhood”.

A cold sweat ran down her spine.

“Cicero? An assassin?” she scoffed “you're joking”, Mau shook her head “Astrid told us of a new arrival, he fits the bill to a T” she purred sadly.

Mattilda started to laugh.

“well…I guess I wasn’t the only one keeping secrets”.

.

(At the Dead Man’s Drink)

.

Arnbjorn, Nazir and Vizarra were sent to see about Cicero’s “girlfriend”...

“50 septimes he just pulled our legs” Veezara yawned and sipped his mead, “100 septims says he hired some poor woman to pretend to be his girlfriend” Arnbjorn snickered. 

Cicero stood outside the tavern while the others waited inside, the moment he saw Mattilda his heart skipped a beat, she looked so…beautiful…especially dressed in black.

Nazir looked over and nearly spat out his mead “GUYS” he said as he tapped Arnbjron’s shoulder, Veezara and Arnbjorn looked over and their jaws dropped…

Cicero walked in with a cute little thing in a black dress, she was short and built a little like an acrobat but with very powerful and long legs, she was…an elf?...of some sort, a brunette with pale skin and big blue eyes.

She was laughing with him and not in a forced way…she…genuinely…seemed to be enjoying his company, “well I’’l be…” Nazir gasped, “there is no way he landed that, just look at her” Veezara murmured, “welp we're about to find out” Arnbjorn grinned.

“Matti these are Cicero’s half brothers and his family friend: Nazir, Arnbjorn and Veezara” he introduced her, “hi she excitedly beamed, I’am Mattilda Vid-” before she could finish introducing herself Arnbjorn stopped her.

“So Mattilda, what’s your line of work?”, “oh…well…I’am currently more of an adventurer right now but I use to be an alchemist in Helgen” she answered rather awkwardly, Arnbjorn nodded “uh huh…tell me”  he got close to her enough to whisper “and you can be honest, how much is Cicero paying you to be his pretend girlfriend?”

Mattilda gawked “what?!” she gasped, “oh come on” Arnbjorn muttered loud enough for Cicero to hear “did you really think we’d fall for this little joke of yours?” he turned to Cicero, “honestly where'd you find a pretty thing like this? Certainly not in whore houses here-” as soon as those words left his lips he was sent backwards by a powerfuck kick to the face, one strong enough to make him skid across the floor for a few feet.

Veezara and Nazir spat out their mead and gawked in utter shock at what had happened, Cicero grabbed Mattilda and desperately tried to pull her away.

Arnbjorn got up and glared at her…

“How dare you” she hissed “I am no cheap whore and how dare you for insulting Cicero” she growled, “you just signed your death warrant girly” Arnbjorn snarled, Mattilda smirked, showing off her bosmeri fangs “just ask Maven Blackbrier about the name Viddarson, then we’ll see who’s death warrant is signed” she leaned in “and tell Astrid I said hi”.

Chills ran down Arnbjorn’s spine…

Who was this chick?

Mattilda took Cicero’s hand and led him out of the tavern.

“What did you mean by that?” he looked at her, she smiled at him “you don’t need to worry about your family coming after me is all” she chirped, “what how?” he scrambled for words, “I know” is all she replied be for looking into his deep hazel-amber eyes and asking him one simple question.

“Mau and Kit are away “visiting friends” in Riften…would you like to share a bottle of wine with me beside the hearth at my house?”, Cicero pondered, if he was going to spend one last night with Matti before all Oblivion broke loose it would be tonight.

“Cicero would love too” he chirped.

.

(Falkreath Sanctuary)

.

“Viddarson” Astrid said the name with a twinge of fear in her breath, “I know but what does it mean?” Arnbjorn asked her, “it means, darling husband of mine…THAT YOU FUCKED UP” she screeched.

“Viddarson is Maven’s personal guy, her PERSONAL guy. If she wants something made to look like a message or an accident she sends us or any other guild member…if she wants somebody GONE OFF THE MAP or their name sullied into poverty she sends Viddarson” Astrid hissed “you just insulted the daughter, no excuse me, the niece of Skyrim’s FUCKING BOOGYMAN”.

Astrid grabbed Arnbjorn’s face and bright it to hers “you are going to apologize to her or so help me Sithis…”, “Astrid I thought we were Skyrim’s boogymen?” he pondered, Astrid sucked in a deep breath “listen to me, Viddarson makes us look like a bunch of weirdos in black pajamas…he is not to be FUCKED with…and nither is his family”.

“now…GO APOLOGIZE!” she snapped.

.

(next morning)

.

Cicero awoke next to Mattilda in her bed…with nothing on except his jester hat.

He lovingly gazed at her sleeping form beside him, her little soft snoring and the way her body was curled up next to him reminded him of a bunny rabbit, he cuddled her not wanting this moment to end…not wanting what was to happen…happen…

He wanted her to live.

A knock at the door awoke her from her slumber and Cicero cursed whoever it was, Mattilda looked at the naked jester in her bed…and at her own nude form. She giggled, “I…hope I wasn’t too…well…” she embarrassedly looked at Cicero “it was my first time”, Cicero chuckled and kissed her “it was Cicero’s too, he loved it”.

The knock came more vigorously this time.

“JUST A MOMENT” Mattilda called, “you better get out of here in case it’s Mau or Kit”, “but what if it’s Arnbjorn?” he worried, “like I said you don’t need to worry about that, now come on your clothes are around here somewhere” she chuckled.

Cicero left through the back door when he bumped into Arnbjorn, “look before you go crazy I’am not here to hurt her…I’am here to apologize to her”, “oh…well good serves you right for what you did”.

Mattilda got on her robes and opened the door, there before her was…

“DAD!” she shouted happily as she hugged him tightly.

.

.

[x-bluefire-heart-x]

Hello! I have a question, will there be a sequel to Dragon Age x Skyrim? I wonder how the story will end! I will look forward to continuing! Thank you in advance for the answer!💜

Hey there! Thanks for the message! I am so glad you like it! ☺💜

Yes, it's going to be a long story and updates are slow. I have I think four chapters posted at the moment which are linked on my masterlist which is pinned in my blog. I thought I have linked all the chapters to all the parts, so sorry about that. I will work on doing that at some stage.

I am working on the next chapter.