#teldryn x dragonborn

[shapelytimber]

Ok I was not prepared for act 3 and 4- the people on ytb were right ggkglflokfif this is sick omg this was a slow burn but this was so worth it !!!!!!!! I was not prepared for Act 3 to have quite effective horror ???? In Skyrim ?? I get it now kglglflfkj this mods excellent

So here's how Act 3 went for me <3 (and struggling with my Molag bal design why did I do this to myself-)

And the begining of Act 4 (more of a pay off for Act 3, and I did not finish it so please no spoilies <3)

Elaris writes the worst, most vague and stress inducing mail.

The spell child of Oblivion is so funny to me lhlglflgifjfk just two ominous children on fire following me around it's great

[PART 1] - [PART 2] - [PART 3]

[COMMISSIONS]

[argisthebulwark]

Time Moves Slow - Teldryn

sfw, gn reader Summary: After returning from Sovngarde the Dragonborn finds that a handful of hours for them has been years for those in Tamriel and reunites with their loved one. Others Linked: Vilkas, Brynjolf, Farkas, Miraak, Cicero

Each step crunched over silty stones, a long day’s heat still radiating from the sand. You’d seen Raven Rock dozens of times but this felt different - perhaps it was due to your time in Sovngarde. Picking your way through the empty marketplace you wondered if the rest of the world would feel different. 

Barrels lined the tavern’s entrance bearing unfamiliar sigils. You squinted, trying to decipher which shipping company Geldis had made a deal with. It had to be exhaustion or dim lighting that left you unable to recognize the company stamped into their side. Making a mental note to inquire, you entered the Retching Netch. 

Your eyes moved to his usual seat of their own volition. A group of warriors sat at Teldryn’s table, their Nordic armor glimmering in the firelight. With a fair bit of shock you realized that most tables held customers - a few employees dipped through the crowd bearing trays of food and drink, conversation louder than you’d ever experienced in the Netch. Counting back the days you wondered if you’d arrived in time for some forgotten holiday. 

“Table for one, or you waitin’ on company?” A sharp voice cut through the mess of your thoughts. Sharp eyes awaited your response but your mouth felt too dry to speak. Nothing felt right. This was not the tavern you’d left a few days ago. 

“Where’s Geldis?” Your voice sounded so small. The man glanced over his shoulder with an annoyed click of his tongue.

“At the bar. We have space there if you'd like to be seated.” 

Fairly certain you nodded he set off, cutting a path through the crowd of patrons as he led you into the belly of the Retching Netch. Staring around you prayed to catch a glimpse of something familiar - his armor, his face, any proof that Teldryn was near. 

Seated squarely between two larger groups you gaped at the man behind the bar - Geldis’ hair was tied back, sleeves rolled up while he dispersed countless drinks across the bar. The sense that something was awfully wrong stilled your tongue; if you’d returned to the wrong time or the wrong version of Raven Rock making a fool of yourself wouldn’t get you anywhere. Quietly you watched him work, fingers nervously knotted together.

“And for you?” Geldis raised a brow when he finally locked eyes with you. You tried to summon something, anything to say before he was dashed away again by the sea of customers. “What’ll it be?”

“Are you Geldis Sadri?” 

“At your service.” He smiled, cleaning the rim of a glass while you sorted through your thoughts. 

“Can you tell me where Teldryn Sero is?” 

“Haven’t heard that name in a while.” His ministrations paused and your stomach dropped. You and Teldryn had been in the Netch the night before drinking away your worries. Sovngarde was terrifying but it seemed your visit had caused some type of ripple across Tamriel. “Think he headed east with some new patron.”

“New patron?” Alarms sounded in your mind. Teldryn hadn’t taken another contract since you’d been together. He’d become your constant partner through every adventure, staying behind only because the laws of Sovngarde barred him entry. 

“Been a while but he’s getting back out there. If you’re interested in hiring him I’ll pass the word along once he’s back.” Geldis’ tone was somber, eyes cast down to the rag in his hand. “Glad he’s working again. Losing his partner and all…the years haven’t been kind to him.” 

The rest of the world fell away as you struggled to process it. You couldn’t fathom what it all meant - you’d been gone years? You spouted off some hurried excuse and hauled your tired body out of the Retching Netch.

Raven Rock faded into the background when you pushed your exhausted body past its limits - each breath hurt but you had to find Teldryn. If he headed east he’d surely stop at Tel Mithryn. He always stopped there for the night. He had to be there.

You recounted everything Geldis said as you rushed through the night. Teldryn thought he'd lost you. It'd been years since you left. Even for a Dunmer's long life you'd missed so much. A chill set in as night descended upon Solstheim but you pushed yourself onward, the sight of Tel Mithryn enough to bring tears to your eyes. 

A couple figures wandered away from the towering fungus. You halted, sure you looked mad showing up late at night full of nonsensical questions but you waited. Your heart ached when Teldryn passed under a torch, his features accentuated but somehow different. He looked a bit older, the war paint washed away. His new patron huffed at whatever Teldryn said but you couldn’t process any of it. You wanted to run to him, to launch yourself into his arms and hide until the world made sense but you remained still. He needed time.

His eyes slid toward you and a hand reached for the pommel of his sword. You held back the words roaring in your mind and the urge to beg him to recognize you. If you’d truly returned to the incorrect world he wasn’t to blame. Teldryn studied your features for what felt like an eternity before he finally spoke.

“Are you real?” His voice. It had only been hours since the last goodbyes but so much had gone wrong since then.

"I'm real."

Teldryn closed the distance in seconds. Every nerve was set aflame as he grasped your face, skin rough against your cheeks when he dragged you closer. His kiss was harsh and bursting with emotions you didn't recognize but it was him. Clinging to Teldryn's armor you sobbed into his kiss, heart breaking at the thought of what he'd endured.

"I'm so sorry, I was gone and I -"

"None of that matters." He cut you off before the babbling could get any worse. Calloused fingers dragged along your body as if he'd forgotten it. Teldryn's lips pressed to your forehead and for a moment it quieted the storm raging inside your mind. "All that matters is you came back to me."

[herhighness-thequeenofhearts]

Okay, listen-

Nah nevermind, I have no excuses.

[martindeservedbetter]

loathing you wasn't right

Teldryn Sero x F! Dragonborn! Reader word count: 2118 triggers: none

"You're going back to Skyrim… without me?! Why?!"

"It's just…" she stared off, not wanting to meet Teldryn's upset eyes.

"... I didn't want to bring you home, to Skyrim, that is. I just wanted two lives, a Dragonborn for one, and a welcoming adventurous patron for the other. Which means-"

"You don't want me to ruin your perfect picture… what a load of crap. Fine. Go on then, go do your Skyrim things. Just know that I'll be exploring Tamriel on my own, and I won't be here when you get back."

___________________

Skip forward two weeks and Teldryn was still wasting away his days in the Retching Netch, hoping that maybe, just maybe she'd come back to him.

"Still moping over Y/n, I see," Geldis teased, placing a drink down in front of Teldryn, who sat at the bar for once, rather than the upper-level seating area.

"I paid for a drink, not a snide remark, Geldis."

"Just go out adventuring as you said. Get your mind off of her."

"And where should I be going? Hmm? The only way off this rock is to Skyrim, and I don't fancy running into her."

"Is it perhaps because you fancy her? You get it because-"

"I don't need this," Teldryn stood up, tossing Geldis some septims, grabbed his sujamma, and turned to leave the corner club.

"You can't run from your feelings, Teldryn!"

"Just watch me!”

He retorted, securing his chitin helmet back on his head before being met with the ashen atmosphere of Raven Rock.

Oh, how he loathed the place. 

Sure, he had made it his home for countless years and had made many fond memories with the people, but he loathed it all the same.

Teldryn seemed to loathe many things.

He loathed the way she laughed and said his name.

He loathed the fact that she would hug him after a battle.

He loathed the way she stared in awe of their campfires.

And most importantly, he loathed the way his chest hurt when he thought of her.

“Damn her.”

It was like he couldn’t look around at the village in front of him, because all he saw were the memories bubbling up. He only stared ahead, trying to blot out any of his thoughts, and it came as no surprise to himself that he found himself pushing through the doors of her home.

The large manor she had been given was dark and cold. She had left many of her belongings behind. And Teldryn would fondly stare at them, as he continued down into the main part of her home.

“You’re more than welcome to stay here with me, Teldryn.”

“You can’t actually mean that, Y/n.”

“No, I do. It’s too large to live in alone. There’s this room over here,” she grabbed his hand and pulled him over,” I would love it if it was yours.”

“Then I’ll stay. If that’s what you wish.”

Teldryn stared down at his hand clenching and unclenching it, before shaking his head and scolding himself for trying to remember how pleasant her hand felt in his-

“Just stop it! You’re Teldryn Sero! The best swordsman in Morrowind! You’re not some lovesick s’wit, so stop acting like one.”

It was a lame attempt at clearing his mind, but he accepted it all the same and made his way into the master bedroom. Her bedroom.

What a mistake.

Her room still smelled of her, the same smell that filled his nose as she would bury her face into his chest while hugging. And although every part of him told him to leave, he stayed.

He fell onto her bed, overwhelmed by the scent of her and the softness of the furs that covered her blanket.

“Y/n… why did you leave me..?”

He muttered, tearing the helmet back off of his face and tossing it far away from him.

He heard the shattering of glass, and he cringed.

“Damn it…”

He slowly brought himself to his feet and saw the shattered vase on her desk, and as he gathered the pieces, his eyes caught the scribbling of his name.

Teldryn Sero

He set the shards aside and opened the folded paper.

I have to leave Solstheim. I can’t stay any longer, I refuse to fall anymore in love with him. Teldryn Sero… such a grumpy elf… but that didn’t stop my foolish heart. Those crimson eyes have me swooning and I want to wake up to the rasp of his voice in the morning for hundreds of thousands of mornings. But he doesn’t deserve to deal with the life I lead. The constant never knowing if I’ll return again. The endless traveling and speaking to officials, not to mention the threat of the civil war… Teldryn deserves to follow someone, to love someone that’s not me.

I’ll suffer for a thousand years if it means that Teldryn is happy.

“Stupid… so stupid…”

That didn’t stop the shaking of his hands or the pounding of his heart.

It was astonishing to learn that she had felt the same all this time. For Teldryn, it was like time stood still. Everything he loathed about her wasn't quite what he thought.

He loved the way she laughed and said his name.

He loved the fact that she would hug him after a battle.

He loved the way she stared in awe of their campfires.

He loved her.

Teldryn wanted her to wake up in his arms and see that smile she wore after hearing his voice. He wanted morning kisses and slow dances in the kitchen. He wanted everything you would never think a mercenary would want, he wanted to be loved.

Teldryn's body seemed to drag itself out of her home and back to the docks, staring out at the grayed sky and the barren harbor.

He stared out at the abyss of sea separating him from her.

"The Northern Maiden is set to return today."

"Hmm?"

Teldryn turned to the voice of the Nordic docks worker.

"You look like a man who needs to be elsewhere."

"Well thank you for telling me what I look like, I truly appreciate it."

"I'm just trying to help-"

"And I don't need it. Please go run along, and do whatever it is you do," Teldryn retorted, snapping at the poor man.

The Nord quickly scampered away from the Dunmer. 

"You know, you didn't have to scare the boy, Teldryn. He did give you the information you wanted." Spoke the familiar voice. 

"...I didn’t recall needing your opinion, Geldis,” Teldryn called, turning around to face his only friend.

“Ah,” spoke the Dunmeri barkeep,” but you clearly need it. You’ve been falling apart for weeks. What changed and brought you here? Did you finally realize?”

“Realize what? There’s nothing to realize-”

“Teldryn Sero, you must be a s’wit if you haven’t realized it yet. You’re in love with the Dragonborn.”

Teldryn scoffed and turned away from him.

“You can’t even lie and say no. You’ve just gotten quiet for the first time in your life.”

“You haven’t known me nearly that long-”

“That doesn’t mean you’re not the grumpy mercenary that sat in my bar for months, boasting his skills. You’re not a quiet mer, Teldryn. Just admit it.” 

“No, alright? She’s already gone, and she’s been gone. Realizing something so significant now will just… just make the pain in my chest worse.”

"...you'll never be better if you don't admit it. If you truly want to move on-"

"Ah, but there's a problem Geldis. I don't want to. I don't think I can. I've never loved a man or mer before in my 200 years of life…"

"So you're holding on. You're going to spend your dying breaths waiting for that girl to return…"

"I've never made the best decisions, Geldis, you know that. Just let me have this."

"Just promise yourself and me this, you'll tell her if you see her again. You'll tell her everything Teldryn.”

“I guess I can try.”

He huffed, trying to maintain his composure and arrogant demeanor, but by Azura, he should’ve known the mer could see through it.

“Teldryn.”

“Fine, I’ll do it. I’ll tell Y/n that I… that I-”

He faked a cough, trying to cover his tracks with a ‘damn ash’.

“You’re a sorry excuse for a Dunmer if you can’t say three words.”

“She isn’t here, so I don’t have to say a word.”

Teldryn walked down the pier, fully ignoring Geldis’s protests.

And now we’re back to being a lovesick s’wit, fantastic. At least I can catch the first boat out of here, now to just…

He once again threw back on his helmet and leaned against the stone building, deciding now was a good time to get his rest before boarding the ship. He had learned how to sleep standing upright after being a mercenary for quite a number of years. The man let out a sigh and settled into a comfortable position before drifting into a light sleep.

___________________

“Teldryn?”

Ah, her voice. What a cruel joke, can’t even dream in peace.

“Silly mer…”

He felt something brush against his jaw through the scarf.

“I’ll cut your hand off if you don’t put it down,” he muttered, not bothering to open his eyes.

“Well, it’s a good thing that wasn’t my hand then.”

Then the voice proceeded to do the same thing again, which quickly brought Teldryn out of any drowsiness he had.

“I already warned you-! Y/n?”

His voice softened when he recognized her, and he felt his face begin to warm in embarrassment.

“Hey… I’m back.”

“...Why?”

He watched her face shift into one of amusement to a bittersweet one.

“I missed you. It was a mistake to leave. I wasn’t expecting to find you here.”

“I never left…”

He muttered, turning his face away.

“I’m glad…” she slipped her hand into his, interlocking their fingers.

Teldryn looked down at their hands, and couldn’t quell the anxiety that came off of him in droves.

“I uh… I need to tell you something.”

“Of course, Teldryn. You can tell me anything.”

“So…” he sucked in a sharp breath.

“...I didn’t exactly know how to cope with you leaving. Hit the Netch every night, and tried to sleep the day away…”

She began to run her thumb across the back of his gloved hand.

“...and I just… had so much resentment for you. It took those two weeks for me to figure it out but… I’ve learned that I simply adore your smile…”

He took a short pause to catch the embarrassed smile that ghosted her lips.

“...that I enjoyed your hugs, that I found your facial expressions… pleasant.”

“Oh yeah?”

That stupid smile of hers had come back to stay, clearly amused by his awkwardness.

"I suppose I learned that I… love you."

"I love you too Teldryn."

It blew him away how she answered him immediately, this interesting shine in her eyes. It took him a moment to realize that they were tears.

"Don't cry," he mused, wiping the tears away from her face.

"I'm just so happy. I really thought I had lost you…"

"Never. I would have waited a thousand years for you, just to have this."

Teldryn brought her hand to his lips, brushing the scarf away, and placing a kiss to her knuckles.

"Really?" She smiled, still in tears, but clearly feeling better about the situation.

"Really."

"Can I ki-"

She put her hands up to the sides of his face.

"Please do," he muttered in response, pulling the chitin helmet off and dropping it.

Y/n pulled him down to meet her, lips connecting and sending chills down his spine, pleasantly surprised by the feelings he received, he smiled into the kiss.

She was the first to pull away, grinning like an idiot, but Teldryn knew he looked the same.

"Be mine?"

"I assumed we were already there, but absolutely."

"S'wit."

"You love me."

He rolled his eyes, failing to stop smiling as well.

"I simply adore you."

Teldryn watched as her face wore a soft smile and she seemed to lose her footing.

"Oh, you like that? You want more pleasant compliments?" Teldryn teased.

"Stop being mean."

"Never," he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

She gave a soft hum in response.

"Any jobs available? I'd love to bring my mercenary along."

"Well I heard the Skaals could use some help, though, it's far too cold for my liking."

"That sounds like a new adventure. Let's go!"

He quickly grabbed his helm as she dragged him by the hand.

And by Azura, did he love her more than anything.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Dark Knowledge: Part One

Miraak x Hermaeus Mora x Female Dragonborn Reader

Chapter Specific Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): canon-typical swearing, canon-typical violence, brief blood, horror elements, tentacles

Word Count: 4k

A/N: Part One of Dark Knowledge

The Dragonborn opens up a Black Book and steps into the realm of Hermaeus Mora.

Part Two

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

On the island of Solstheim, deep within a cave, is a book.

Before you, the book rests upon an intricately carved pedestal large enough to hold the massive tome. The walls and floor around it are tentacles sculpted from stone. They form a tangled mural behind the pedestal and book.

It is a Black Book. A tome of esoteric knowledge. A Daedric artifact attributed to Hermaeus Mora, the Prince of knowledge, memory, and Fate. You’ve heard the tales—mostly from one of Master Neloth’s wayward stories. With your reputation, Neloth asked you to retrieve a Black Book, giving you its precise location.

Maneuvering through the cave was the easy part. Now that you stand before the massive tome, your feet have turned to solid steel. The book is bound in a black cover that appears soft to the touch as if it’s a living thing and not just Daedric reading material. On the cover is the symbol of Hermaeus Mora. Between the pages, a black mist leaks out and surrounds the book in its immediate vicinity. That doesn’t account for the oddly pulsing air, as if the book is vibrating, disturbing the space around it.

You do not move closer. You do not approach. You stand near the base of the stairs that you just descended. There is no eagerness in you to take a closer look.

“So. This is what Master Neloth wanted us to retrieve?” asks Teldryn Sero. The Dunmer mercenary stands directly behind you and to the right of your shoulder. He crosses his arms and also keeps a decent distance away. “Looks foul. I wouldn’t touch that if I were you.”

Without looking away from the Black Book, you answer him. “Sounds like you’re starting to care about me, Teldryn.”

Teldryn snorts and leans in, his helmeted head appearing next to your face. “You pay me to care. Therefore, I shall. I like the coin. Keeps my pockets full.”

“Ever the poet, Teldryn.”

“Naturally.”

The good humor is just a front. This…thing is repulsive, and you’re not sure you want to touch it, let alone open it.

Master Neloth isn’t the only reason you’re after this thing. Back on Skyrim, during a visit to the town of Riverwood, a trio of cultist attacked you. Before they lashed out, they mentioned someone named “Miraak.” From there, you came to Solstheim, only to find parts of the local population seeking out stone pillars. There they toiled, repeating a mantra that made no sense.

It all led to Skaal Village where the shaman, Storn Crag-Strider, diverted you to Saering’s Watch to learn a Word of Power. The All-Maker stones, as Storn called them, are all cleansed. But it only pushed you deeper into this twisted treachery. Storn was adamant about not turning to Hermaeus Mora for assistance in defeating Miraak, but did mention Black Books and who would know more.

Master Neloth was that person.

Now, you’re here, staring at the thing everyone’s been talking about, and you’re not entirely sure who to trust.

As if drawn by an invisible tether, your left foot slides forward toward the Black Book. Your mind registers it only when Teldryn reaches out and grabs your shoulder.

“What are you doing?” he asks with a whispered sharpness. Teldryn pushes you up against the stair’s central support pillar. “You are not touching that.”

“How else are we supposed to get it to Neloth?” you snap.

“We don’t,” replies Teldryn. “I love gold but I’m not stupid. We don’t need to do this. There are plenty of other jobs out there for us to do that don’t involve anything like that.” Teldryn emphasizes his distaste by pointing at the Black Book.

“But I’m the Dragonborn. I have to do this.”

“Do you? Do you really?”

You square your shoulders and stare Teldryn down. “Yes. That’s my destiny as—”

“Is that what those old loons up on the mountain told you?” interrupts Teldryn. “That you have to solve all of Tamriel’s problems?”

“No, but—”

“But nothing. You are not beholden to anyone but yourself.” Teldryn pauses a moment and then inclines his head. “Except me. Still owe me from that bet we made in Windhelm.”

“If I pay up, will you stop talking?”

Teldryn considers. “No,” he says after a few long seconds.

The two of you turn your heads in the direction of the Black Book. The black mist around it appears thicker, and distantly, you hear voices whispering. Yet this inaudible chorus seems miles away, their voices just existing at the edges of your hearing. Teldryn is Mer, and his ears are sharper than your human ones.

“Teldryn?” you ask softly. “Do you hear that?”

His head tilts to the right an inch. “Hear what?”

You focus in on the sound, pushing all your attention into deciphering the message. It is a chorus, a resounding force of voices all harmonizing together, but every time you try to pick a word out, the understanding slips and you’re left with nothing.

“Voices,” you murmur. “Do you not hear them?”

Teldryn shakes his head and then slowly pivots to face the dark tome. You take a step closer and Teldryn blocks your path.

“How can you not hear it?” You’re not speaking to Teldryn but to the air, thinking out loud rather than seeking an answer.

Teldryn is no barrier. You push past him and make it five full steps before Teldryn is able to cut you off. He places his hands on your shoulders, halting your forward momentum.

“The Black Book is speaking to you. Hermaeus Mora is calling you to him,” says Teldryn, shaking your shoulders.

Your nostrils flare and you smell ink. It is thick and viscous. “I should open it.” The words fall from your lips easily, as if you are one of the possessed and hearing Miraak’s mantra.

“This is insanity,” hisses Teldryn. “You’re not risking your life like this.”

The voices strengthen, and between each intake of breath, you hear their song. It is not one language but many, and they all speak in unison, their words matching up in syllable and pitch. Some of the voices sound entirely mortal. Others are odd. Primordial. You do not understand them and their strangeness batters away at your brain.

Something wet drips onto your upper lip. You don’t wipe it away.

“Your nose is bleeding,” murmurs Teldryn. Behind the Chitin helmet, all you can see are the Dunmer’s eyes. But they speak volumes. His concern is evident.

The tug to open the book is unyieldingly powerful. There is no part of your body that isn’t sizzling with the need to touch the fleshy cover and reveal the secrets inside. In the end, you will have to open a Black Book. In the end, you will have to involve yourself. All roads lead there. You know this in your marrow.

“They’ll never stop coming,” you say, and each word is laced with sadness.

This is your purpose. This is the life placed before you. The gift of the Voice is not one you asked for. It is not something you ever wished upon yourself. But there is no way to give it back. Time and Fate will eventually catch up to you.

Better to face it all now.

“You owe no one nothing.” Teldryn is not a liar. At least, not to you. He respects you even when he disagrees.

“I know.” The admission is painful.

“I can’t protect you once you open that book. We don’t know what will happen.”

You shake your head. “Miraak’s temple is too heavily guarded. I cannot seek answers there.”

“We cannot seek answers there,” corrects Teldryn, his voice breaking slightly. “Where you go, I go.”

“You only say that because I pay you well.”

Teldryn gently rests his helmet against your forehead. “You pay me shit.”

The bit of blood on your lip rolls down to your chin. “Don’t wait for me,” you whisper. “Whatever you do, Teldryn. Don’t. Wait.”

Teldryn’s chest heaves with a great sigh. “I get your homestead in Falkreath.”

“Deal,” you laugh as another wet drop falls onto your upper lip. Teldryn loves that house, and it’s been nothing but trouble for you.

With a final squeeze of your shoulders, Teldryn pulls away, moving out of your path, revealing the Black Book. What dwells inside the book is the unknown factor. You could go mad. You could experience visions. You could simply disappear from this plane. There is no telling what might happen.

The harmonious voices strengthen as you stride closer. On the cover, the symbol of Hermaeus Mora begins to glow a sickly green. Around the book, the black mist thickens. In its foggy depths, the shadows of tentacles unfurl. They are transparent. Faint, dark whisps. The tentacles venture outwards, reaching as if seeking an embrace.

Another step. Another. Another still and then you’re right there, staring down at the thing that won’t stop talking.

Neloth will have his book, but you need this to end.

The tips of your fingers brush against the edge of the Black Book’s cover. It is not fleshy as you expect it to be. It is coarse, but not sharp or scratchy. Slowly, your fingers curl around the edge. There is a hesitation just before you start to open the cover. Moving with you, the pages follow the cover, and then the yellowed papers inside present themselves.

At first, there is nothing. The pages you stare at are blank. In the next second, all sound disappears as if the room is frozen in time. It is followed by a soft pop, and the world comes hurtling forward.

The blank pages begin to fill in archaic, living writing. The unknown words and symbols move across the page in systematic lines and circles. Some are large and easy to see while others are so tiny they float around in the background in faint swirls.

Between the pages is a void. It emerges from the binding, moving outward over the pages. It is an abyss, and its emptiness drags you forward, your boots lifting off the floor until you’re on your toes.

Tentacles burst forth from the darkness. These are not the misty tendrils from earlier but real, tangible limbs that slide over and around you. They wrap around your arms and shoulders. They suction to your face and neck. They probe and push even as you thrash about, trying to break free.

Escape is impossible. You’re hauled forward, tipping down into the abyss, delving into the darkness. There is a loud roaring and then your feet are on solid ground.

The abyss is gone, and instead…

You’re not entirely sure where you are.

Around you is an alcove made of black metal. Attached to it is an archway made of books that connect to a long hallway. The books within the archway are stacked on top of each other, almost seeming to melt together near the center curve of the arch. Beneath your feet is stone. Some of it is gray like the rock on the side of mountain. Other chunks of stone are black and dull. There are pages from books scattered all over the ground but they aren’t moving. They simply rest where they lay.

You bend at the knees and reach out, sliding a fingernail under the corner of the nearest page. Its only lifts an inch or so, and with it comes something syrupy and sticky. You immediately retract your arm and stand, wiping away the reside on your leather pants.

Slowly, you rotate, surveying your surroundings. It’s only when you turn around that you notice the Black Book. The symbol of Hermaeus Mora does not glow. There is no black mist or odd whispering.

Without second guessing the choice, you grab the cover and open the book, expecting to find what you did just seconds ago.

Nothing.

The pages are blank.

You flip the page. Nothing. Flip again. Still blank.

You go to the beginning, examining every inch of paper. No living words or symbols appear. The book is dead. Silent.

Frowning, you spin around and stare down the long hallway. The air is stale and absent of wind. Glancing up, you peer through the small holes in the black metal. A glowing, green sky greets you. There are streaks in the sky that move like clouds but their radiance is more like lightning. Shifting on your feet, you change perspective, and discover a black abyss cutting through the green sky.

Is that what you fell through?

As you watch the portal, black tentacles drop from its darkness and sway as if caught on a breeze. But you feel no wind against your skin. Then again, you don’t sense a temperature either. You’re not cold but you’re not warm, as if the very atmosphere is adjusting to your body temperature, making the stale air around you feel like absolutely nothing.

Wherever you are, it is an atrocity.

Without a way to go back, the only path is forward.

With overly slow movements, you unsheathe the sword at your waist. The hallway isn’t well lit, but there is enough light to see by. Crouching slightly, you move on silent feet, keeping close to the wall without touching it.

The stone floor gives way to twisted metal, and the walls are nothing but books. You do not stop to peer at any of them. This place is dangerous, and you need to be alert at all times. Survival is essential. Information is important. Any clues that you can take back to Neloth or Storn might help in unveiling the mystery behind this stranger known as Miraak.

Hermaeus Mora is not unknown to you. You grew up on stories about Aedra and Daedra. They were standard tales, but when you were a child, those beings seemed far from the reality of your life.

It is so very different now.

Neloth did not shy away from talking about the Daedric Prince. It was Miraak that the Dunmer dismissed, seeming more concerned with Mora and the Black Books.

What was it that Neloth said about Mora’s permanent influence? Madness. Loss of self-awareness. Black spots in the whites of the eyes. There are no mirrors and you cannot see your reflection in your sword. You’re not mad, but for a brief moment you thought you were when Teldryn couldn’t hear the voices. Your self-awareness is intact. At least, for now.

Storn called Mora the Skaal’s enemy, and spoke of hidden Skaal knowledge that Mora wishes to obtain only for the sheer pleasure of possessing it. But Storn did not say more, merely focusing on the destruction of Miraak’s influence.

As you round a corner, you arrive at an open platform. Instead of approaching, you hang back, observing your newly unobstructed view of the environment. From here, the glowing sky and black portals are in clear view. Various structures dot the landscape, and it stretches in all directions.

But there is no landscape. There are no trees or blades of grass. What should be the ground isn’t rock or dirt but a dark liquid that resembles black water. It is as dark as parchment ink, and the surface of it ripples slightly as if something moves beneath it. You have zero desire to know if its as fluid as an ocean or thick like honey.

The platform itself is rounded and juts out slightly from the opening. As you step closer, the platform shifts and fans upward, extending like the wings of a dragonfly. Another appears from above, connecting to it to form a bridge.

There is a tower there, the outside of the structure nothing but pillars of books. Your gaze sweeps across it and the surrounding area. Nothing jumps out at you except the strangeness of the place. Nothing and no one lurk nearby.

Cautiously, you step out onto the bridge. Still, there is no wind. The air is still. With silent steps, you creep to the next platform. When you crest the small curve in the bridge just before the landing, you come to a stop and immediately drop to your stomach.

A strange creature hovers just inside the archway. It has four arms, two of which hold books while the others rest against its sides. Its head is squid-like with two thin eyes and no eyelids. Hanging from its shoulders are rags of some kind, but at this distance, it might also be fur.

It has not noticed you, and you use this to your advantage. Silently, you set your sword next to you, and remove your ebony bow from your back along with an arrow. Easing up to a low crouch, you pull back on the bowstring, aiming the pointed tip of the arrow at the head of the bizarre creature.

With a book in hand, it seems such a gentle creature. It’s head tentacles flare as it reads as if the words on the page are amusing. A brief moment of hesitation stays your hand. Then you remember the voices and mist, of how blood dripped from your nose from the brawling nature of it all.

Your finger slips from the bowstring.

The arrow whistles.

It lifts its head in curiosity.

Making contact, the arrow slides between the creature’s eyes.

There is no noise or cry of pain. It vanishes in a brief vibration of mist. The rags it wore and the books it held hang suspended in the air before falling to the ground. The books hit hard. The rags drift slowly.

Before the rags touch the ground, you’re up and moving, returning your blade to its scabbard. You remove another arrow from the quiver. In this moment, you are a stealthy killer, a being of darkness in a place made for it.

Your humanity will not pause your hand. The answers you seek go beyond that. You are in Hermaeus Mora’s realm. You are alone. Teldryn is not here to help you. Everything going forward must be done with only yourself in mind.

As you step off the bridge, the dragonfly-like structures break apart. You glance back and meet open air.

A howl reaches your ears. It bites and claws, sounding of blood-filled lungs. All the hair on your arms stand on end, and your skin prickles with awareness. The awful sound comes again. It’s closer. Moving in. Trapping you against a threat of falling.

There is a ripple. A change that you sense. Of a predator seeking its prey.

You drop to your knees as a ball of vibrating air launches over your head. Spinning toward your assailant, you release the notched arrow. It strikes true, hitting another one of those creatures.

This one shrieks. Then doubles. A replicate appearing beside it.

With quick fingers, you release two more, sending the tentacle twins vanishing into puffs of mist.

It is clear that your presence has been detected. Stealth will be of little use if the beings of this realm are actively seeking you out.

Charging down the hall only proves what you expect. More of these creatures lurk nearby, actively waiting for you to make an appearance. These are not visible. They are beings of mist, and they solidify with a blink, popping up from nowhere before your very eyes.

The first surprises, nearly knocking you down.

The second almost grabs you. It’s clawed hand just grazing your leather armor.

The third hurtles into you, but you manage to roll into the fall, getting back on your feet with ease.

The bow is useless. They are too close, disappearing then reappearing in rapid succession. Your blade is sharp, and you are eager for a bit of blood.

The steel blade rings loudly and the first swing strikes true.

“Fus!” The power of your Voice slams into one of the tentacled creatures. It flinches back. Recoils from your blow. It is enough for you to drive forward.

You duck and weave, slicing through the air and dispatching your assailants with the skill that has made hundreds tremble.

But there is no blood. These creatures do not bleed. They simply vanish into mist.

Chest heaving, you finally have a moment to gauge your new surroundings. It’s a massive circular room. There are several large, metal double doors scattered throughout the room but the doors are shut, barring entry.

All expect one.

With resolve in every step, you march forward toward the open gate, passing rotting stacks of books and floating eyes with tiny tentacles. They look like horrific stars. They even blink, following you for a few strides before drifting off to move about the room.

You ascend the raised dais, pass through the doors, and up another flight of stairs before you’re spit out onto another platform.

Unlike the previous platforms, this one is already attached to a bridge. It spans a great expanse of black water, connecting to another tower. But there is too much open space between the towers, and there is zero cover. You would need to sprint, or use a Shout to speedily propel yourself across.

A roar from behind you stirs your feet.

“Wuld Nah!” In seconds, you’re halfway across the bridge, already sprinting to the other side, your arms and legs pumping with every step.

“Dovahkiin!”

The primordial voice is an anchor tied to your feet and you are in deep water. Sinking. You are sinking. The bridge beneath you is melting, sucking and solidifying around your boots.

With a cry, you reach down and try to lift your leg. Nothing. You are rooted to the spot.

A shadow falls across the bridge. A deep, unsettling, slimy sensation slithers up your spine and wraps around your throat. Your eyes are fixed to your submerged boots.

“Fate has led you here, to my realm, as I knew it would.” Your fingers tremble and you refuse to look up. “All seekers of knowledge come to my realm, sooner or later. That is what you are after, isn’t it? Knowledge. That is why you answered my call so willingly.”

No forms on your tongue. You did not come willingly. Or did you? Yes, the pull was there but you intended to open up the Black Book. Didn’t you?

You’re…certain?

A lone black tentacles drifts in front of your face. It wiggles slightly, moving toward your nose. It retreats slightly, and then with an odd gentleness, curls under your chin, lifting your face to the Daedric Prince floating in the sky.

Hermaeus Mora is a grotesque abomination. He is a green and black mass, a void of tentacles and eyes. His entire being pulsates, expanding and retracting as he…breathes? Do Daedric Lords need to breath? Or is this just a formality to make you more comfortable?

If it’s intentional on Mora’s part, it’s creepy, only adding to his aura. Hermaeus Mora is large, taking up so much space he’s all you can see. While he hovers in the air, Mora is not far from you. In fact, if you lift your hand and extend your arm, you’d easily touch him.

The large eye in the center of it all blinks slowly in observation. “Is the Last Dragonborn a fool? Speak, mortal. Why did you come to me?”

Deep in the recesses of your soul, a stubbornness blooms. Your mouth does not form the answer he’s seeking. Instead, your lips pull back, and you bare your teeth like a feral animal.

“If you are the Prince of Fate, surely you can answer such a simple question. All this knowledge around you, and yet you cannot form your own answer. I expected more.”

Hermaeus Mora bristles, his form expanding in size as his tentacles vibrate with irritation. “Be warned. Many have sought my halls. I have broken them all. You cannot evade me. You cannot resist.”

The bridge rumbles. Hermaeus Mora’s massive eye slides up to watch a point over your shoulder. Slowly, you turn, finding yet another abomination. This one is incredibly tall, almost amphibious and slightly humanoid. Each of its footsteps shake the bridge.

Mora is calm. Serene. The creature moves closer, each shattering step a threat.

“You are in my realm now, Dragonborn. Apocrypha will be your home. You will converse with me and I cannot wait to know your secrets.”

From the monster’s open mouth emerge a wave of tentacles. They wrap around your body. They cover your face and slide into your mouth, reaching toward your lungs.

“Sleep,” hums Hermaeus Mora as your consciousness begins to slip. “And then we shall talk.”

Part Two

taglist:

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

[hircinesanters]

Miraak: I despise him. I despise his big black bovine baby cow eyes and long brown streaked mane and pretty language.

Teldryn: You want to fuck the centaur don’t you?

Miraak: I want to fuck the centaur.

[dovahkinniez]

Can I ask for some teldryn headcanons on how he might act to his lover being a race from a distant land and not much is known about them? Does he ask lots of questions, is he kinda meh, or what?

` 𖤓 . . . TELDRYN SERO.

He'd be so interested?

I see him as a knowledgeable man, and when he finds stuff he's not aware of, he makes it his mission to find out.

It's probably what drew him towards you in the first place!

Noticing you were 'different' is what made him go !! Because this man has been everywhere, seen everything - he thought anyway.

So as you grew closer he'd ask you question after question. He'd basically study you, your people, your homeland.

He'd want to visit your homeland too, and would be lowkey annoyed if he wouldn't be able to.

It's a mixture of 'I need to know. I need to experience everything' but also 'this person is the love of my life and I need to experience their life.'

Honestly? Its super cute, his interest is amazing and seeing his reactions to stories makes it all the more better to tell him everything there is to know.

If you're a bit of a joker and tell little lies for the fun of it, he'd notice almost instantly. He knows you and when you're serious, he'd raise a brow and be like, 'k. Now tell me the truth' -.-

LMFAOOOO -

If he sees things that might remind you of home he'll make sure to get it and give it you, 'thought you'd like it' He'd say, shrugging but you'd notice it's something similar that you told him about before.

He loves to hear the stories especially before sleeping. To just close his eyes and chill, listening to you tell him about your family and silly little things, and even though he's tired and half asleep, he always somehow remembers.

[hombrediablo]

HAPPY SKYRIM DAY 11/11 here’s some screenies of Aegis and Teldryn traveling thru Skyrim, I will never bore of playing this game with them 🐉🌋💛💜

[dilfsero]

Aegis and Teldryn on their wedding day beautifully done by @hettikovacs

Happy Heart's Day! 💛💜

[lefeldy]

Sorry not sorry

[justheretop0st]

Rain

He hated the rain. He hated the sound of it, the smell of it, the feel of it. And though he prayed it never comes, the thunder rolls and mocks him. How unfortunate.

She was one in an era that truly caused change. It was evident at her funeral. There wasn’t enough room to accompany the waves of people who had come to see her one last time. It lasted days, almost a week of respect and reminiscence. There were things that he didn’t even know about her. This was especially telling of the figures in black and red.

The woman he had come to call his wife was a leader by nature. She lead her side to victory in the war. She ended Alduin, granted she had legendary warriors by her side. She solved the vampire crisis, having to split her own soul in order to enter the soul cairn. She became the leader of the companions, even for a brief period becoming the Arch-Mage. She had helped countless people. He was sure there was more, but there are always secrets that are best left to die with her.

The day she died, she looked more. More of everything. More like a leader. More like a wife. More beautiful and terrifying all in the same breath. She laughed and she seemed to glow. The breeze made her hair animate with life. With every ounce of blood in his body, he swore it shone in the sun.

It was quick and he was thankful for that. Perhaps he couldn’t handle it if she suffered. Perhaps it was because he didn’t have to worry about the last words he said to her. Because he swore to tell her daily how much he adored her. It might have been out his comfort zone. But even in his actions he swore to show her nothing but adoration and love. She deserved it and he knew it was likely she was to die at any point.

Being a renowned hero, she had enemies. A single moment of peace, pierced by an arrow laced in poison. Normally it wouldn’t have punctured her armor. But she wore a dress that day. Even into the night when she was being honored with a banquet. Ale, wine, mead and more was being served. How could someone have missed a person with an arrow equipped?

He wished he could have been more vigilant and maybe he would have had it not been for the drink. He wished his last words were more fine than a sloppy serenade. A declaration of known love. On his knees before her and he could feel the air push over his head as the arrow hit its target.

Panic arose in the crowd, they all ran to cover. But he stayed kneeled there, catching her as she fell into his arms. Straight through the heart, and she stared into his eyes. A connection. A final connection. She died with a smile on her face and her hand in his. But he felt to many emotions for him to simply sit there with her. He felt anger. Remorse. Sadness. He wanted revenge.

All he can remember after that is snatching a sword from a guards sheath and searching the building. Room by room, person by person. He was to filled with emotion, but nothing would get past him. He was told that the assassin was eventually found. That this person was taken to jail. But jail was not what the person deserved. For taking such a life, death would be the only repentance.

During her funeral, it rained for those days and nights. He couldn’t bear to leave her side as she lay there. Surrounded by flowers and gifts and mementos. He remained soaked and though there were others with him, he paid their words of condolences no mind. Nothing would make this better.

How he hated the rain.

[shapelytimber]

Wdym it's been 5 months ? Anyway, here is the end of my little comic serie about this niche Skyrim mod

*Insert me 100%ing the 4th arc of the hit mod 'vigilant' for the elder scrolls V Skyrim with little difficulty having a grand ol' time*

I messed up my files so Teldryn divorced me while I was away ckgkckkc And you know what good for him, he got a cottage and a kid out of it

[PART 1] - [PART 2] - [PART 3]

[COMMISSIONS]

If you're interested in my thoughts about this mod, you can read that below (it's fucking long so I'm sparing you all just here for the art to have to scroll through all that) vvv

A fantastic mod for sure ! I had so much fun, the voice acting was (for the most part) quite impressive, the music !!!!!!!!! Excuse me who gave this mod permission to have this fucking banger of an ost ???? Loved the new environnements, and there was so much of them !! Especially in act 4, I felt that all the locations had a unique and gorgeous aesthetic (frankly it was the most fun I had doing dungeons in skyrim... the bar is on the floor tho- if I ever see another nordic tomb or draugr I'll not be responsible for my actions), and fucking impressive mise en scene.

And the fights were so fun ??? In skyrim ?? Incredible.

But I still have some problems with it- first let's get the elephant out of the room : act 1 and 2... Boy oh boy were they not so great- I get that the begining is a slow burn to 1) get to know the vigilants of stendar, and 2) drive home the fact that the vigilants are quite incompetent and stendar hates them. Ok this is cool ! And they definetly were some highlights, like with the story of the three kajiits (I'm not good with remembering names (forshadowing for later-)), the ending of act 1, and uuuuuuuhhhh underground windhelm looked sick in act 2 !

But the quests in general were not very fun, at least not fun enough to distract me from the parts of the scenario I understood- which were kind of sexist and not that interesting (the sexism doesn't get better with act 3 and 4 but at least I'm having fun)- like I don't expect great women characters, this is still a tes mod, and it definitly doesn't get to "the man writting this is a fucking creep and I'm not playing this any longer" territory... But all the women we interact with are either : prostitutes, mothers/wives, or abuse(it's nearly always rape) victims- like I don't really mind that the first quest is to track down a vampire prostitute who propose to show me her sweetrolls, but it gets pretty tiresome after a while (and kinda ridiculous, like do all the big musley men I'm fighting in act 4 have to angst about their wives ? Can't a big musley woman angst about her partner too...). The worst one is Lamae Bal. From the charadesign, to the dialogues with her, to her story- hated that.

And also we don't have much dialogue choices and ways to influence the story in these 2 (3) first acts. Which I understand like this is a lot of work for fan content, but it's such a stark contrast to act 4 it's a bit jaring.

But speaking of the story... I get this is a very thoughtful and well researched story. A lot of work reading the tes wiki as been done by the author... But I, on the other hand, did not read the entire extended lore wiki- and I admit I was not understanding any of it during Act 4. Like I got a general idea, and the epic, dramatic and emotional moments were still impactful ! But I really don't think the author did a great job getting the story accross, and the more the mod progress, the more this problem becomes relevant. The recuring problem of tes games is that they have really deep interesting lore that we rarely get to see in the games ; the problem of this mod is that we get presented with this lore as if we already knew it.

And after watching an explaination of the story, it's such a shame because it's really good !! And well written ! But I don't think I should need a youtube video to understand it...

Also omfg I am not good with names mod please- everything has like 2-3 different weird fantasy names (but it's never explained it's the same thing, and what the thing is is never explained-), there is a billion men characters with weird ass long names, and the mod expects me to remember them all 5-6 hours after they got killed ??? I don't remember them 5 seconds after I'm done talking to them-

But I had fun playing it, and that's what matters <3 and I'll never get other twink molag bal <3

Also, my mage dragonborn is even more op now omg I can summon an army of 8ft musle men + molag bal + Jyggalag ??? The only fight I had a bit of trouble with was Pelinal's, the rest got obliterated easily (by Pelinal) kgkgkfjfifb

I'll probably need to nerf Elaris at some point in the future-

[friend-of-giants]

Ascent from the Ashes is at 1000 hits!! 😭😭

This tale is my baby and this is a big milestone considering TES is somewhat of a dwindling fandom - and this is my first real dabble in writing!

If you've read this I want you to know I appreciate the SHIT out of you! And if not, what are you waiting for?

[miraakulous-cloud-district]

All this talk of a karaoke night with @bougainvillea-and-saltwater made me think about what the fellowship would actually sing🤔

Lots of sea shanties, naturally

Ravonna would absolutely nail 'Freak on a leash' by Korn

Rumarin and Marcurio would sing 'I've had the time of my life' (and even do the movie pose! Rumarin's a strong elf and Marcurio is tiny. Hopefully, no one will fall. Hopefully.)

Lucien and Inigo would sing 'Timber' by Pitbull and Kesha (they are very drunk)

Miraak would sing Ievan Polkka, as I headcannon it as an old Atmoran party song and after a few more drinks he will sing 'Strawberry Blond' by Mitski to a very confused, black-haired Ravonna

Teldryn will refuse to sing, resorting to watching them and smiling at the drunk idiots

Jia is invited, of course 🥰 Her and Ravonna would sing 'Don't stop me now' by Queen and 'Blunt the Knives' (everyone else will be like: "Who tf is Bilbo and why does he hate it?")

@kiir-do-faal-rahhe Odette is invited too, of course. She's Ravonna's favourite metal chick, after all, and she would like to get crazy and sing some Hole with her (maybe Celebrity Skin? They're the famous Dovahkiin, after all) Also, Ravonna knows how to play 'The Devil went down to Georgia' on her fiddle 👀👀

SURPRISE!! All of @ghostfacedbat Miraaks show up and sing 'The real Slim Shady' because I think it would be hilarious

Songs that everyone joins in on: Ragnar the Red, Bohemian Rhapsody and The Drunken Sailor

I am getting waaaay too invested in the ✨️modern AU✨️

[martindeservedbetter]

warhammer

Brynjolf x F! Dragonborn! Reader

word count: 1985

triggers: none

summary: Who could've thought a pair like them could've bonded over a warhammer? Clearly not themselves.

prompt: from @writings-of-a-hufflepuff List #5 prompt 9.

"You really thought I was dead?"

"Mercer, you're back, but where's-"

"Dead. Karliah got her before I got the chance to save her. Such a shame really... she showed so much promise."

The guild all watched Brynjolf freeze, but they'd all seen it before. It wasn't new for his protege to get caught or killed, but his response was so different this time. He seemed... sadder. As this time it was personal like she was more than a protege.

"I'll be back. I'm going to go find her."

"Were you not listening boy? She's dead."

"Just let me do this, alright? I just need to know." He retorted, not keeping to his cool under pressure attitude.

"Do I need to get you a horse-?" Delvin asked, only to be cut off by the man in question.

"I'll be fine Delvin. Be back as soon as I can-" Brynjolf answered.

"You're insane Brynjolf. Can't you just take my word for it?!" Mercer yelled, calling after the man who was already leaving. The man who ignored the protests of the other members entirely.

___________________

Not finding any proof had only made it that much harder for Brynjolf to accept it. And he scoured the Sanctum, only to find dried blood in an open room.

Damn Karliah. Damn her to Oblivion.

Brynjolf had struggled to find any other way to accept it, so he just blamed Karliah instead, finding it was much easier than anything else. She had killed the last guild master, so who's to say that she wouldn't kill another member? One that was going to help fix all of the problems.

"Brynjolf, please, just stop drinking, it's not going to change anything," Vekel muttered.

"Just give me the damn drink, Vekel."

"No. I will not indulge you in this. I don't care if you're hurting, please just accept that she's gone."

"How? She was... she was special."

"The same way I got over my parents. Time and goodbyes." Sapphire suddenly began speaking and slid into the barstool next to Brynjolf.

"I'm not ready for that."

"Then no mead, no wine, no alcohol whatsoever. It won't help, it'll only make it worse."

Brynjolf groaned, and got up and walked away, hoping to at least be alone. To maybe find some peace by going through her things. To maybe just sleep. Just anything to be free of people's dagger-like eyes that pierced him with judgment.

His eyes flickered to her empty bed, the way it just looked so wrong. Brynjolf sat himself in front of her chest, looking through her things, noticing things that he recognized, specifically a certain warhammer...

"Lass, this is ballsy, even for you."

"Shh, it'll be fine."

He watched her sneak away, attempting to steal the war hammer right off the guard's back.

And all Brynjolf remembered was the way the hammer was too heavy for her hands and she carried it back over to him with the largest smile on her face.

"I told you it'd be fine."

"I guess I should believe you more often lass."

He took the hammer out of her arms, and she seemed to sigh in relief, but still high from the thrill of theft.

"Obviously. Don't be an idiot, I'm just as good of a thief as yourself."

"Of course," he mused as he mussed up her hair, and she slapped his hand away.

"Do you know how hard it is to tame this?!"

And Brynjolf just laughed as she attempted to fix her barely messed up hair, scowling as she did so.

"You're so lovely, lass."

"I would say 'you too' but you were a jerk who messed up my hair!"

"You look fine, lass."

"Says the guy who rolls out of bed and looks gorgeous."

"That's very flattering, Y/n, but not entirely true."

He watched her jaw drop, and he gave a soft chuckle.

"You do not comb through your hair! There's no way in Oblivion-"

"And that's where you'd be wrong lass."

"Oh, my gods... Brynjolf is a fancy man."

"And proud of it."

He winked, yet didn't fail to catch the glimpse of a blush dusting her cheeks.

"What happened to you lass..?"

It wasn't long before there was a clamor coming from the Flagon, and when the Cistern door flew open, every member was on alert.

Karliah...

Brynjolf decided to be civilized but was not afraid to turn from the plan if it even slightly went south.

"Karliah, what did you do to Y/n?"

___________________

"Y/n? You're alive?"

It was Vekel who seemed to notice her first, and it drew the attention of the few other members still in the Flagon.

"Y/n? But Mercer said-" Tonilia started.

"Mercer lied. He's lied to all of you for years."

The newest recruit had been confirmed dead by the current guild master, and he'd managed to convince everyone but a certain second in command.

"Brynjolf looked for you. We were also worried about the fact that you two were gone that he just, decided to seek answers for himself... He hasn't been well."

"Vekel, is he here? We have a lot to talk about, and I need the entire guild's attention."

"Of course, he should just be in the Cistern-"

But she was already gone, ready to tell everyone the truth and to address her Brynjolf situation, but that would have to take a backseat. There were far more pressing matters at hand.

As she pushed through the Cistern door, she heard arguing amongst the members and loads of insults toward Karliah.

"Mercer's a liar."

"Lass..."

Brynjolf's face softened and she watched his body seem to go slack.

'He looked for you... he hasn't been well.'

"Karliah saved my life. Mercer tried to kill me."

She lifted her shirt to show the fresh scar along her stomach.

Brynjolf's eyes traced the marred skin, and his body seemed to tense the longer he looked.

"He's been robbing you blind for years, check the vault."

Karliah added, standing right by Y/n's side. Y/n had put her shirt back down, smoothing it out as she stood increasingly closer to Karliah.

"Lass?"

Those eyes of his... those gorgeous emerald eyes bore into her, coaxing an answer from her. Silently pleading for the truth, clearly uncomfortable with the woman beside her.

"She's right, please, Bryn, believe us." Y/n copied his own eyes, begging him for the decency to believe her.

He let out a sigh before shouting," Oi, Delvin! We need to open the vault."

"Thank you..." she breathed, smiling over to Karliah.

Brynjolf looked over to her, very upset about the large scar on her torso, and although he was warry of Karliah, he knew of what happened to Gallus and it didn't help that he knew what it felt like to hear that Y/n was dead. But he threw that to the side when he saw Y/n smile at Karliah, watching her seem very relaxed around the supposed murderer of Gallus and Y/n herself.

"You called, Brynjolf?"

"Put your key in, we need to get this door open."

"Of course."

Y/n hesitantly walked toward the vault, standing right beside Brynjolf. It made him feel a wave of relief knowing she was this close again.

"It's empty! It's all gone!" Delvin yelled back to the group after doing a sweep of the vault.

"Mercer! Damn him!" Brynjolf answered, entering the vault to confirm the claim.

It was a stab at the entire guild like someone had slit the guild's throat and captured its riches as if it were blood. The experience was numbing to most guild members, realizing that not only had all of their hard work been for naught, but their guild master was also the reason for it. He had caused every problem they had ever faced, yet always found some scapegoat, never allowing himself to be seen in a negative light as he tore the guild apart from the inside.

"When I see him, I swear I'm going to-"

"Vex! You know that's not how we operate. We just need to figure this out..." Brynjolf chided the white-haired woman, who was now seething in anger but held her tongue, silently planning Mercer Frey's death in several different ways.

"Lass," Brynjolf turned to Y/n," Tell me everything that's been going on."

"I will Bryn, I promise, but first... can we be alone? Vekel said you haven't been well-"

"So long as we speak of the guild first, of course, lass."

Y/n held out a hand, which he quickly accepted, allowing her to lead him to the intended destination. Although the place was just the secret entrance for the Cistern, they sat on the hidden steps together.

She first informed him about how Karliah had been framed, that Mercer Frey had betrayed them and brought a curse upon the Guild after infuriating Nocturnal. She then led into the tales of the secret trio of Nightingales being true.

"The Nightingales? I thought that was just an old legend, but I believe you lass."

"It seems that we don't have much of a choice in anything anymore Bryn..."

He cleared his throat, garnering her undivided attention.

"What was it that you wanted to talk about lass?"

She gave a soft smile, grabbing his hand and intertwining her fingers with his.

"Vekel said you've been..." she paused, for lack of better words," not well."

"I've not been ill, lass."

"I didn't mean it that way. He said you came for me."

"...I had to make sure it wasn't true."

"You really thought I was dead?"

"No," Brynjolf felt his heart jump into his throat, and he tried to cough up an answer.

"I just... I didn't believe Mercer when he told me you were dead... I... I had to see for myself."

Brynjolf's eyes didn't meet hers, but he rubbed the back of her palm with his thumb.

"You know I missed you, missed us. You know that right?"

"I missed you more than you know... Saw you kept that old warhammer... that was a nice day..."

"That was a nice day... I found out that you were a fancy man."

"And I found out that I loved you," he spoke just below a whisper, just as if it were just a breath.

"Bryn? What was that?"

"Don't worry about it. So I'm a fancy man? I'm glad you remember lass."

"No, don't lass me. You never told me you were hurting. Was it that hard with me gone?"

She had begun to hold his hand a little bit tighter as she looked over at him, trying to get him to look back into her eyes.

"Yes lass," and for the first time since they started their little talk, the emerald-eyed man looked her in the eye.

"It was hard."

"But I'm just, me."

"And that's just it Y/n. You're just you, and down the line, I fell in love with you. I searched for you... because I didn't want to come back to a guild without you."

"I love you too. Gods above, I've been in love with that stupid accent of yours since you told me I couldn't steal that warhammer." She said with a laugh, letting herself fall to lean against his side.

He kissed her temple and gave her hand a squeeze before muttering," That's when I fell as well."

"Future romance advice for those who need it, just steal a warhammer, then you'll love each other." She teased, currently pleased with their current situation.

"Steal one more for the road? We can fix the guild later?" He offered, and he knew the answer as soon as he was pulled to his feet.

"Whoever gets one first, without being caught, gets a kiss!"

"I'm not against this bargain..."

And the pair of thieves both split, oh so full of love, and ready for everything they faced in front of them.

[helgiafterdark]

y'all already know teldryn captured silvia's soul for me :3 sorry bout ur mom illia, let's be best friends <3