#the great forest of whiterun hold

[throughtrialbyfire]

WIP Wheneversday!

hey there!! hope everyone's having a great (checks calendar) thursday HAHJKHGFDKJG

tagged by the amazing @boethiahspillowbook @skyrim-forever @dirty-bosmer @thequeenofthewinter @mareenavee @umbracirrus !! thank you so much !! <3333

tagging the incredible @orfeoarte @totally-not-deacon @gilgamish @wispstalk @wildhexe @viss-and-pinegar @thana-topsy @caliblorn @v1ctory-or-sovngarde @aphocryphas and anyone who wants to hop in, feel free to tag me in what you're working on!!

this week, i'm taking a (very short) break from CotS to work on developing some characters we'll be seeing shortly. in the meantime, i started work on this new fic, following jarl balgruuf's son, frothar, around ten-ish years after the dragon crisis began! turns out, the last dragonborn may have just never had the chance to slay a dragon until now…

"Father," Frothar stood before Jarl Balgruuf, the older man seated sternly in his usual place, rooted like a tree to the forest floor, "I swear to you, if you let me go-" "Enough, Frothar," Balgruuf held up his hand, then sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "I will not hear any more of this dragon-chasing nonsense." "But the people of Whiterun Hold aren't safe without someone hunting these creatures," he protested, fists balled at his side. "And you think I will risk my eldest son going after them? Frothar, think with your head for once, son," he cautioned, watching as the younger man drew in heavy, slow breaths through flared nostrils. "You know as well as I do that if I sent you out there on your own, you'd never come back." "If I take even one dragon with me, is that not worth the fight?"

Irileth folded her arms over her chest, statuesque in her pose. "You and your siblings should listen, for once. There's a reason you're not being allowed to charge head-first into the lair of those wretched beasts." He stared into her ruby eyes. She'd faced one and lived. He wondered if she was speaking from a will to protect Jarl Balgruuf - and by extension, his children - or from her own fears. Coward, he mentally spat. She blinked. "You think you're so above any of the men who have tried," Irileth began, "but let me tell you, many have died thinking they could take on the same challenge. You are still a boy, you're not yet-" "I'm an adult," Frothar corrected in a sneer, "I'm sure I could handle myself." "You're still a boy," Irileth repeated, slowing her words as though this would make him listen, "you may have come of age in your culture, but I have been all across Tamriel, and have seen plenty a traveler your age torn apart by the world. How many attackers have you personally taken down, on your own, whilst hungry and thirsty? How many days have you spent out of the comfort of your father's castle? How many hunts have you been on, or battles you've survived?" "Irileth," Jarl Balgruuf exhaled, "I think he gets the point." Irileth stepped back, steadying her breath. "My apologies, Jarl." "None needed," he murmured to her, before turning back to his son. "Frothar, Whiterun needs you. Our people need you. One day, you will be leading them, something you cannot do if you go chasing dragons and abandon them. These past years…" He trailed off, inhaled slowly, and spoke with a measure of stone in his voice that failed to rattle his son, "…the people of our Hold need to be able to rely upon a future leader, not watch him go running off after beasts and flights of fancy." "Wouldn't it serve better if I did kill a dragon? They'd know I'm strong, they'd know I'm reliable, then!" Frothar protested, expression betraying his frustration, brow lowered, eyes widened. "Father, let me show our people that I'm just as capable a warrior as you are! Ulfric's practically at our front door, surely this would-" "That's all, Frothar," Balgruuf leveled his voice as well as he could, but the agitation slipped in through every crevice between his teeth. "I will not have you stepping into this war, and I certainly will not let you go off chasing a dragon." Frothar narrowed his dark eyes at his father. His cheeks flushed in the heat of the braziers, and he hoped this did not indicate the blood boiling in his veins. He eyed Irileth and Jarl Balgruuf, and without a word, he turned on his heel and trudged up the stairs, far out of sight of his father and his housecarl.

"Sounds like quite a fight," Nelkir snickered, arms over his chest. The younger man stood with his back pressed against the stone wall, watching Frothar storm up the steps with a smirk sprawling over his thin lips. While Frothar and Dagny had both taken after their father, Nelkir had taken after his mother, with a weasel-like frame and spindly hands. If Frothar reached far back enough in his memory, he could touch the vague hand of a woman that their father had loved, once. Her high cheekbones and her warm countenance. Her kindness, her strangeness. "Shut it, Nelkir," Frothar grunted in return. He turned the corner, already snatching his armor from the chest nudged against the wall. "You don't understand." "Of course I do," Nelkir lowered his brow, the withering of his snarky expression catching Frothar by surprise. "You think I haven't been trying to convince Farengar to let me in on his studies? Or Kodlak Whitemane to let me into the Companions?" He pushed himself from the wall with his foot, Frothar donning his chestplate. "Come on, you and I both know what it's like to be denied something." Frother arched a brow. "What are you getting at?" "I'm saying, if you were to somehow… Oh, slip out the castle unnoticed in the middle of the night, I'm sure I could cover for you. Maybe I'd even come up with a rumor about some fair lady and some midnight rendezvous. That'd get the court talking for days." Frothar nudged his brother harshly with his elbow, Nelkir barely stumbling back. For all his scrawny figure suggested, he was surprisingly sturdy on his feet. "Oh, no. No. Absolutely not." "Aw, wouldn't it be a little fun, though? Come on, we all know I can be very convincing," Nelkir pouted comically. All tension left Frothar's shoulders, a laugh bubbling out from his lips as he pulled on his gauntlets. "I don't want you spreading rumors about some poor, sweet woman and I meeting up behind father's back. He'd hound me for days about her." They both knew this would be out of a level-headed excitement, but the idea of his father trying to dig into his nonexistent love life made him grimace. Nelkir scoffed. "Fine, have it your way." He turned, marching towards the stairwell. "If you need anything, you know where to find me." "Listening in shadows, as always," Frothar droned, rolled his eyes dramatically. Nelkir made it his business, everything happening within the walls of Dragonsreach, and no one was certain whether they liked his prying ears or not. On one hand, he'd thwarted a couple of attempts on their father's life. On the other, Frothar sometimes wondered whether this was because he wanted to be the one wielding the blade, instead.

[dalishthunder]

Destiny Waits for No One

Chapter 4 - Fool's Gold

Pairing: Eventual Nebarra/LDB (Gender Neutral Reader) Other Characters: Kaidan, Xelzaz, Lucifer, Khash, Inigo, and Lucien Rating: Mature Words: 1875 Additional notes: Very slow burn, frenemies to lovers, Nebarra is an ass, Xelzaz continues to be the coolest Read on AO3

The wing beats were growing distant, and with a quick glance to the skies, you sprinted forward, coming to a sliding halt by the survivor's side. Already, you could feel the heat radiating from their armor.

"Fan out! Get Khash to that barrow we saw not too far back!" You called out over your shoulder.

"On it, Dargonborn!" Behind you, you could hear Khash's protests as Lucifer coaxed her to follow him.

"Inigo, I heard it in that direction, scout it out. No heroics, get back here alive."

"Aye, aye."

As he disappeared into the mists, you reached down to the poor sap, gently helping them sit up. "Are you alright?"

"I'm bleeding out like a gutted nebarra. Of course I'm not alright." He hissed, breath shaky, coming in ragged gasps.

"Hold still, I can heal you." You'd been practicing your healing hands since the last dragon attack. Xelzaz had been more than willing to teach you.

"No!" He coughed, the sound wet, almost bubbling in his throat. "I've seen the kind of scars the legion came away with.Healing potions."

You nodded, fishing around in your pack and pulling out one of the condensed formulas you'd been experimenting with. "Here. Drink this then."

He lifted his helmet only a fraction, and you saw only a very bloody chin as he gulped it down.

You listened intently for the sounds of anyone else, but all of the other bodies were charred beyond recognition. "I'm sorry about your friends."

"Not my friends." His breaths began to steady after a moment, the potion beginning to work its magic.

"O... kay then." You could vaguely see a set of gold eyes staring warily at you from the eye slits of his helm. "Well, who did we save today?"

"... Nebarra. Just... just call me Nebarra." Something about the way he said it almost sounded... defeated.

"That's um... an interesting name." You said, not quite liking how it had rolled off his tongue.

"It isn't a name, it's an insult." He rasped, and he stretched his back, joints popping and crackling like the fire that had consumed the carriage. "It means unwelcome and foreigner in Altmer."

You frowned, "Why would you want me to call you something like that?"

"Because I don't want to tell you my name, and I feel like a bloody nebarra in Skyrim." Strength was beginning to come back to his voice, and his cadence coupled with the condescending way you spoke was... grating.

But you figured he did just survive something traumatic so you let it slide, and you stood, offering your hand to help him to his feet. "Alright then. Where were you headed? Do we need to get you anywhere?"

Nebarra got up on his own. "Not anymore. I was a caravan guard. Ernurd wanted to avoid the roads, so we stuck to the forest. Figured it was contraband or something... must not have been that important if he left most of it out here though. Not that any of that bleeding matters with a giant lizard that can light up a whole valley flying about."

Inigo crept around the cart, "It appears to have headed for the mountains. We should be safe for now."

"Oh, great, a cat.Let me guess, you have contraband as well?" The altmer sounded bored.

You stepped between him and Inigo, "No contraband here. Just a group of intrepid adventurers."

"... Lovely. Well, I unfortunately don't have much that wasn't completely incinerated, and Ernurd certainly isn't going to pay me anymore, so instead of coin, I suppose you can have my sword at your side."

"We don't just let anyone travel with us," You lied.

... Well it wasn't a full lie. You had turned Lydia away when you'd been appointed Thane of Whiterun, and left her back at Dragonsreach.

"What skills do you bring to the table?"

He cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders. "I think you'll find I'm very, very good at killing things."

"And yet, the Dragonborn was the one to save you." Kaidan eyed up your new potential companion with a great disdain, slowly stepping closer until he was only a few feet away. "And you don't even seem particularly grateful."

"What about offering my services free of charge doesn't seem grateful?" Nebarra crossed his arms, straightening up.

You placed a hand on your companion's shoulder, "I'm a thane now. It's my job to save people, Kai. And there's a dragon out there. We have strength in numbers, so let's just get him to safety and discuss compensation after."

"Heel boy." You could hear the sneer in Nebarra's voice. "It seems at least your leader has some sense."

"I'll show you some sense-"

"Enough." Your eyes looked your newest... potential recruit over as you motioned for everyone to head back to the cave to pick up Khash and Lucifer. "Xelzaz, where's the closest settlement?"

"Falkreath. It shouldn't be too far from here."

"Good. Lead the way... mind the skies, everyone." You walked in silence, scanning your surroundings for danger, falling into step beside Nebarra. "I think we got off on the wrong foot, friend-"

"Oh hohoho... we're not friends. I owe you a life debt, no need to take it further than that."

You narrowed your eyes at him.

He truly was grating.

"If we're going to be travelling together, I don't see how it would hurt to at least try."

He turned to look at you, face frustratingly hidden by his helm. "You're new to the whole adventuring thing, aren't you?"

"What makes you think that?" Your smile didn't waver.

"Look, uh.... What did you say your name was?"

"I did-"

He cut you off with a shake of the head, raising a hand to stop you, "Doesn't really matter given you'll probably be dead in a few days. Don't become an adventurer to find yourself; You'll sooner find your grave."

Deep breaths.

Deep breaths.

"You can't talk to the Dragonborn like that!" Lucifer cut in.

"The what?"

"A legendary hero of Skyrim that can shout and eats dragon souls."

Nebarra just laughed... a grating, wretched noise, "Of course I can, I'm the long lost prince of Alinor."

That cause Lucifer pause, and you placed a hand on his shoulder. "Doesn't a prince usually wear a crown?"

He... didn't take to subtlety or sarcasm very well.

"Hence the Long Lost," Drawled the elf.

"That still doesn't give you the right to talk to The Dragonborn like that."

"Yeah!" Khash butt in. "Do not be rude to our friend!"

"Oh, good. Another one."

You exchanged a glance with Xelzaz. "Hey, guys," You interjected, "How about a song for the road to lift the spirits?"

"That is an excellent idea, my friend!" Your Khajiit companion gave you a wolfish smile.

"I'm beginning to think you didn't actually save my life.... You just ruined my death." Nebarra muttered, walking faster to get away from the noise as Inigo began to sing his rendition of Ragnar the Red.

You joined in once or twice, but you didn't quite know the words.

Xelzaz being pleasant, and lovely, as ever introduced himself with some sort of Altmeri greeting only to be rudely dismissed.

"I'm afraid I'm at my limit of for my knowledge of High Elven words."

"Yes, I do imagine the complexities of elf-tongue would prove a difficult task for a slek such as yoursel-"

It took you two bounds to cross the distance.

Torque in the hips. Fist extended. "FUS!"

Your punch sent the elf flying, the intentions of Force behind it strengthening the blow.

Ignoring the blossoming pain in your hand from where bare skin and bone had met with the metal of his armor. "You do NOT speak to him like that. Ever again. Am I understood, fahliil?"

The word had rolled off your tongue as though they were something you understood.

And for some reason... you did.

Fahliil.

Elf.

The singing stopped. All eyes on you once more.

Khash let out a little whoop. "Tusk yeah! Get his ass! Can I punch him next?"

"What in Oblivion was That?" Nebarra hissed, his armor had cushioned him from the full force of the blow.

"That wasn't really necessary," Xelzaz said. "I'm more than capable of dealing with people like him."

But your blood boiled, "You shouldn't have to." You slowly made your way to where Nebarra was sitting up. "You owe me a life debt, and I am willing to overlook how unpleasant you are to me. But Xelzaz is my friend, and I'll not have you speak to any of my friends like that. I will not tolerate slurs in this party. Got it?"

You exhaled, extending out a hand to help him up. He immediately batted it away, getting to his feet himself. "We're going to get along just swimmingly aren't we?"

"Clearly."

He hung back towards the rear as you all walked in silence. The mood thoroughly ruined.

"I appreciate your enthusiasm, friend." Xelzaz chuckled after a moment, finally locating the road to Falkreath. He must have noticed your hand because he took it in his own and began inspecting it. "But people like Nebarra aren't worth getting upset over."

"Do you think we should let him travel with us?"

The bruise that had begun to bloom receded as he cast healing hands on you. "That's up to you. I won't complain one way or another."

Gods, he was so cool.

You wished you could keep your cool like that.

"We'll see how he fairs next time we encounter some bandits or something...." You mumbled.

"I say we ditch him the first town we get to." Kaidan muttered, glowering at your newest recruit.

"No... he owes me a life debt, and I'll see he repays it." You narrowed your eyes at Nebarra as well.

"What happened to him proving himself?" Xelzaz asked.

"I've made up my mind. He's coming with us. Just let me know if he mistreats you."

The gates of Falkreath loomed before you.

"I think that's a bad idea, friend. He'd betray you for a single septim, I can smell it on him." Kaidan huffed.

You just winked at him. "And that's where you come in. If he betrays me, I know you'll be able to keep me safe."

You almost missed the way his ears flushed as he gave you a sheepish chuckle, "Aye.... Our bond is forged in battle, I've got back."

"Good." Patting his arm, you ran a few paces ahead to jump up and slap the sign of the inn. "It's settled then. We'll rest the rest of the day, recover, get a few ales, and set out for Riverwood in the morning."

"Won't say no to that plan." Kai grinned. "Hopefully they'll have a good bard.... No offense, Inigo."

"I wasn't offended until you said that." Inigo gave him a dry look.

You all got food, eating with a reedy man named Lucien who offered you a great sum of gold to travel with you. And so your party grew by two in one day.

Kaidan and Khash danced to the bard's tunes, and the mood stayed fairly light... except for one surly elf sipping wine through a straw in the corner.

[nvoc]

Hi! Could I ask about your most recent mods? I’m the most interested in improving graphics/visuals, so, ENB, forests(!), animals, etc.

Hello!!

My modwatch modlist has all the current stuff that's in my game, tho it can be a bit confusing to read if you're new to the site since the modlist tab is read from bottom to top.

I'll link some (cough, a lot of) mods (for SE) under the cut that i'm using/have used in the past to get you started. Super long post ahead lmao sorry

Some things aren't linked since i think i've hit the character limit 😶 tho they will be the mod name so you can easily search them up.

Videos/YouTube channels that have helped me build my list

Credo's video - modlist showcase, describes what mods are being used and why, plus links in the video description. Helped me tremendously when I got back into modding.

Mern's video - graphics overhaul showcase. There are also other brilliant modding guides on their channel.

SoftGaming - mod showcases. I sometimes find minor retextures and stuff from them + a new beginner's guide to modding.

& so many of those graphic comparison videos e.g hodilton, Fabricio Siqueira, etc.

Weather Mods & ENB presets

Cathedral Weathers & Rudy ENB

Obsidian Weathers & Rudy ENB (a good ol classic)

NAT.ENB III (has its own weather mod alongside its ENB)

NAT.ENB III Weather Plugin & PI-CHO ENB (current) -

Splashes of Storms

Moons and Stars - Sky Overhaul SKSE

8K Night Skies by Cathedral Concept or Skyrim Textures Redone - Stars (current)

AURORA SE

Rainbows SE

Shooting Stars SE

Volumetric Mists or Mists of Tamriel (current)

Obsidian Mountain Fogs

Better Dynamic Snow + No snow under the roof *OR* Simplicity of Snow (latter is more compatible with other mods)

Lighting

Lux & Lux Via - in Lux Via, **you need either the main mod or the the resource pack for Lux to work.** The main mod includes assets on Skyrim roads to make it a bit more lively; such as signposts, lampposts, small structures/statues, bridges, etc. iiimmerrrsionnn

Lux Orbis - exterior version of Lux

EVLAS - better volumetric lighting -

Embers XD and/or Inferno - fire overhaul

Smoking Torches and Candles

Torches Cast Shadows

ENB Lights

ENB Light

Rudy HQ

RemmyKun

Graphics Base

Static Mesh Improvement Mod - must have -

Base: Skyland AIO or Skyrim 202X - i use these as a base then overwrite them with other texture mods.

Landscapes: Vivid Landscapes or Skyland or Tamrielic Textures or MystiriousDawn’s Parallax textures (can also be used w/o parallax)

Architecture: True Nordic Farmhouses or Noble Skyrim (current),

There are so many retexture mods out there so feel free to search around for something you may like.

Fluffy Snow - there are probably better snow retextures out there but i've stuck with this for a long time.

Vivid Landscapes' Complex Parallax Occlusion Snow is another option if you use parallax.

Majestic Mountains (Main version)

Water for ENB (Shades of Skyrim)

Northern Shores - can overwrite Tamrielic Textures if you prefer these beach textures

GKB Waves Reborn

Just Ice

Caves HQ

City Retextures

HQ Solitude

Extravagant Interiors - Solitude

Boreal Whiterun

The Streets of Whiterun - replaces the stonework floor in & out of Whiterun.

Skyland - Markarth

WiZkiD Riften & Ratway

Spice of Life - Orc Strongholds

Classic HD Reworked Whiterun Walls - I wasn't a fan of the ones that came with Boreal Whiterun so i'm using these.

Be sure to also use BethINI to configure your Skyrim settings more-in depth - helps with fps A LOT especially with heavy foliage mods. Video guides here (5min) & here (10min).

Grass

Cathedral Landscapes (performance friendly)

Folkvangr, or Veydosebrom Regions, or Origins of Forest - these are very heavy grass mods. say goodbye to ur frames.

I personally use both Folkvangr and Origins of Forest together - a patch is here to make them work well together.

Folkvangr summer tundra (to pair well with Whiterun forest mods) -

ENB Grass Collisions & ENB Complex Grass & Windy Grass

Trees

The Great Forest of Whiterun Hold - adds a dense forest in the Whiterun tundra region. not super lore friendly but gahdamn! I'm in Whiterun a lot & I like trees sooo yeah. Expect frame drops lol

Whiterun Forest Borealis - a more lightweight version of GFoWH. -

Happy Little Trees (performance friendly and looks good)

Nature of the Wild Lands - really nice mod, makes the forests more dense since it adds forest debris like fallen logs/rocks and stuff. I think it adds extra trees as well, can't remember. Optionally comes with its own grass mod & terrain textures.

Or if you only want the forest debris of NotWL (main mod required)

Blubbo's Trees - pick & choose. really nice selection of tree replacers.

Veydogolt Trees + extra trees (current) - the extra addon adds hand-placed trees all over Skyrim. **If this mod is causing crashes with DynDOLOD, check the "Bugs" tab > "Trees causing a crash with Dyndolod" for a potential fix**

Aspens Ablaze (current) - replaces the trees around the Rift

Blubbo's Trees for the Reach + cliff trees - trees around the Reach region, rly nice 10/10 -

Blubbo's city tree addons: Whiterun, Riften & Markarth. - I haven't used the Riften ones but the other two i'm currently using.

Trees inside Solitude

Veydogolt Whiterun Trees - another alternative for trees inside Whiterun - meant to pair with Veydogolt.

Tree mods comparison video guide

Other foliage/landscape mods

Immersive Fallen Trees

Skyrim 3D Rocks

Mari's Flora

Waterplants + animated

Cathedral 3D plants

Aminals and creachures :)

Fluffworks + Domestic Goat with Bell

Chickens + more variants

Wolves of Skyrim

Skyrim Horses Renewal

Butterfly Improved

Beehives

Real Rabbits HD

GoT Dragons

Creatures by Kajuan

Misc retextures/ers

Pfuscher

ElSopa

johnskyrim

Rallyeator

TheBlenderAnimator

Hanaiss

SDlutz

Yurii -

Daedric Shrines AIO by Mandragorasprouts & their other statue overhauls

RUGNAROK & PELTPALOOZA - retextures rugs & animal pelts

Rustic Furniture & Rustic Windows

Noble Furniture

KD - Realistic Fireplaces

WiZkiD Signs

Book Covers Skyrim

+ so many niche stuff to retexture. just scour the nexus to find stuff you might want

World Overhauls

Blended Roads & Skyrim Better Roads

or Northern Roads (current) - this is a newer mod and it is a compatibility nightmare (if you have other big mods), but otherwise I highly recommend this since it also adds structures/bridges onto the roads like how Lux Via does. Check the mod description for more links.

Northern Roads retexture

Enhanced Landscapes - adds ruin-like structures all over Skyrim. exploring is fun 🤓

Town Overhauls

make sure you get the patch collections for these mods (and for the other mods listed before) lmao.

JK's Skyrim & JK's Interiors - highly recommended since it adds more to the cities & interiors. No AIO version for interiors at the moment, so feel free to pick & choose what interiors you want (i recommend all of them ;-))

Cities of the North - can be annoying to patch but adds more to the smaller towns: Dawnstar, Falkreath, Morthal & Winterhold.

Fortified Whiterun

Riften Docks Overhaul

Palaces and Castles Enhanced - ok this is a major pain in the ass to patch but it overhauls the interiors of the palaces/castles and it looks so good (for some reason i'm getting major frame drops in the Blue Palace and i can't be arsed to fix it). Pairs well with JK's interiors & it also looks super nice with the Extravagant Interiors retexture.

Ryn's Farms - all-in-one overhaul of all the major farms in Skyrim. Super cool thumbs up emoji

Ryn's Standing Stones - aio overhaul of all the standing stones in Skyrim. super cool thumbs up emoji

Ryn's dungeon exterior overhauls - i haven't personally used them yet since i don't wanna redo my modlist with patches, but these i've heard have been really good & may make the game a bit harder (as said on the mod description).

Ryn's Whiterun City Limits - overhauls outside Whiterun + adds more stuff. New mod, annoying to patch, I haven't fully used it yet but may do in the future.

JK's Whiterun Outskirts - another overhaul to outside Whiterun like Ryn's. Very new mod, annoying to patch. Can work with Ryn's Whiterun with patches tho the patches are still being worked on. **Also there is no patch for this to use with The Great Forest of Whiterun Hold so you may have to pickup on how to make your own patches with CreationKit or use the "disable" command on your current save to remove trees. or just don't use this or the other mod entirely.**

you'r'erere welcome and i hope this helps. have fun xoxox

[aardvark-123]

~The Silver-Heart Chronicles Part 7: Friends Come and Go, Sometimes where they Actually Intended~

Many days had passed in Dawnstar. After helping the local sea captain Leif Wayfinder with his shipment of finely-cut void salts, Adelaisa finally had her partner for importing horker meat. Yngvar had another reason to resent Adelaisa, who'd spent the whole trip calling him Lydia and giving him furniture to carry.

"Oh, good morning, Yngvar. Have you seen my friend Lydia? I could have sworn she was waiting somewhere around here," Adelaisa did brazenly enquire.

"Stuhn's blowhole... Yes, actually, I think she burrowed under the sand for a nap. You'll see her boots poking out somewhere along the beach," said Yngvar. "Anyway, Adelaisa, I'm heading out today. It's clear that the caravan won't be back for another fifty years, so I've decided to head to Whiterun and seek my fortune there."

Adelaisa's face fell. "Oh. I'm going to miss you, you know, Yngvar. You've been a good assistant, and an even better friend. Not to mention pretend husband."

"Y-yes, well, let's leave that whole business behind us." Yngvar cleared his throat. "So-"

"Wait, did you say the caravan?" Adelaisa cut in. "They just came into town this morning! That's why I wanted Lydia, so I can get her fitted for Lunar Guard armour-"

Yngvar wasn't listening, not even to point out that they didn't have that mod. He was running up to the south gate to hand over Kharjo's amulet.

Ahkari the merchant captain looked up at the sound of his approach. "Ah, would you be looking for a bargain, friend? Once these ones have finished setting up camp, perhaps... Perhaps..." She watched him run past her and huffed angrily. "Perhaps you will bite me, you lovelorn schoolboy."

His heart pounding, not just from the running, Yngvar approached the handsome Kharjo. "Um... Adelaisa and I- Well, mostly I, we went and found your Amulet of the Moon. So, um, here you go!"

Kharjo gasped. "There it is. Ah, home..." he sighed. "If you ever need the skills of a Khajiit warrior by your side, I would be honored to travel with you."

Yngvar dropped the bouquet of purple mountain flowers he'd been saving. "Wh-what?!"

"I've suspected for a while now that there could be more to life than guarding a merchant caravan," Kharjo went on. "Perhaps a travelling sword for hire could have more fun... Although, as I am sure you can see, I am more of a mace for hire."

Yngvar smiled like an idiot. "W-well, you know what, your mace is more than welcome by my side! In fact, I was just planning a trip to Whiterun. It's a neutral hold, you see. Which is important due to reasons. S-so, how about it?"

Kharjo said he was happy to visit Whiterun; in fact, he knew a shortcut through the mountains. So off they went.

It was a long hike south towards the tundra, through snowy pine forests into damp, grassy pine forests, past giants' camps and herds of mammoths, fighting an average of three wolves per mile. With his steel armour and shield, Kharjo might as well have been a boulder, unbreakable unless you were a bear or a sabre cat. And they only fought a couple of those every ten miles.

Yngvar wondered what Whiterun would be like. Although it was Skyrim's busiest city- the capital which wasn't technically the capital, a bit like Sydney or Glasgow- he had never been there before. The jarl maintained a stubborn neutrality in the civil war. If that meant an ex-Stormcloak could settle down there without having to throw his lot in with the Empire, so much the better.

The tundra grew greener and yellower as they descended from the north. On and on they hiked, staying in villages and farmsteads overnight. For me, playing the game, it only took five minutes, but for Yngvar and Kharjo it was a long trek through a vast country.

On the fourth day, Yngvar's concentration started to waver. I won't say it was definitely because of how shapely Kharjo's behind looked in his armour, but Yngvar definitely failed to notice the great city on the hill disappearing behind them. And on the fifth day, Kharjo declared that they had arrived.

"See?" Kharjo smiled as they crossed the bridge into Riverwood. "Was that a shortcut, or was that a shortcut? Whiterun awaits us, my friend!"

"Er," said Yngvar, a large blue drop of sweat rolling down the back of his head. "This doesn't seem like the agricultural heartland of Skyrim. This seems like a village."

"Well, Whiterun is..." Kharjo laughed nervously. "There is probably more city hidden among the trees. You'll see."

They headed into the village. It was beautiful and breezy among the wooden houses, with a few people out working or wandering the cobbled streets. Yngvar made a beeline for the first person who looked like she knew what she was doing and began asking questions.

"Riverwood Trader, you say?" Yngvar said calmly. "Would this place, by any chance, be called Riverwood? And not, in fact, Whiterun?"

Gerdur burst out laughing. "Well, it certainly isn't Solitude! That's right, boys, you've found your way to Riverwood. Whiterun's a few miles north of here."

"I see." Yngvar turned around and gave Kharjo a pained smile. "That hill we walked past, Kharjo, with the city on top of it. That beautiful, bustling city on a hill at the heart of the plains, surrounded by farms and villages. You don't suppose that might have been Whiterun, do you?"

Kharjo looked at his feet. "It may well have been," he admitted. "To tell you the truth, I thought we were venturing too far south, but you never said a word."

"I was preoccupied," admitted Yngvar. "Er, what was that about a break-in?"

Yngvar and the chagrined Kharjo made for the Riverwood Trader, where they found a man berating the tar out of a put-upon young woman.

"Come on, Lucan, be reasonable-" the woman began.

"No! No! A thousand times no!" Lucan cut in. "What nonsense is this?! My sister, who knows nothing of the world, wants to go thief-chasing without so much as a dwarven armoured mudcrab for company?! Stendarr's teeth, they'll eat you for breakfast!"

"Well, what's your plan, then? Come on, let's hear it!"

"Camilla, just shut up! For once in your life, listen to me!" barked Lucan. "Listen! Just... Please. You don't know what they'd do to you."

Standing in the doorway, Yngvar looked over at Kharjo. "This is..." He bit his lip. "Do you think she's all right?"

"I cannot say," whispered Kharjo. "Brothers and sisters can be like fire and water, but usually underneath it there is love."

Lucan jumped when he heard their voices. "Oh, a-a customer! Sorry you had to see that," he said sheepishly. "Can I help you?"

Yngvar looked at Kharjo. Kharjo looked at Yngvar.

"Well," said Yngvar, "can we help you?"

It turned out some bandits had helped themselves to one of Lucan's favourite ornaments and stashed it away in Bleak Falls Barrow, an ancient ruin in the hills above Riverwood. Camilla offered to show them the way, and Yngvar and Kharjo accepted before Lucan could say anything.

They followed Camilla to the bridge at the edge of town, where she stopped. "My brother's going to blow his top if I take you any further," she said bitterly. "It's just up that slope, right at the tower and left at the cliff. Have fun... And tell me what it's like up there."

With a sigh, Camilla turned and slunk back into the village, her head hanging a little lower with every slow step.

"Kharjo... This isn't right." Yngvar's eyes were burning with anger. "The man's treating his sister like a precious little pet snow fox."

Kharjo nodded. "I cannot stand to see injustice reign in small towns. Let's get her out of there. Come on!"

They ran back into the village, past a startled Camilla, and Yngvar kicked down the door to the Riverwood Trader.

Lucan dropped his sales book. "Wh-what are you doing?!" he gasped. "Guards! Guards, help-"

The words died in Lucan's throat when Yngvar's cold, sharp sword pressed against it. (Please ignore the claw and the fact that it's tomorrow, I had to take these pictures out of order for various reasons.)

"Camilla's coming with us," Yngvar growled. "She deserves an adventure, not the life you've been forcing upon her. For Mara's sake, she isn't a child, she's at least..." Yngvar's brow furrowed. "Twenty-ish, I think."

"Oh, gods... You're madmen!" whimpered Lucan. "Please, wh-whatever you want to do to her, do it to me instead! I couldn't bear it if... If..."

"Er, what?" Yngvar loosened his grip a little. "No, we don't want to hurt Camilla, we want to free her! You were treating her dreadfully."

"I was protecting her!" sobbed Lucan. "From people like you! Gods damn it, Camilla isn't meant to be a warrior, she's only fought mudcrabs and the occasional wolf... You can't do this to her!"

"Well, we- we aren't doing anything to her! Right, Kharjo?" Yngvar said weakly. "Tell him!"

"Lucan, your sister will be fine," Kharjo said firmly. "But if she wishes to accompany us to Bleak Falls Barrow, she will. This is not your decision to make. Are we clear?"

"Go to Oblivion!" Lucan grabbed a broom from behind the counter and started whapping Yngvar on the head. "Get out of my shop! Out! Out! Out, out, out! Get out!"

Yngvar stumbled out of the Riverwood Trader. Kharjo bowled into him seconds later, squashing him flat on the cobbles. They lay there in a daze for several seconds.

Kharjo stood up with a groan and offered Yngvar a gauntleted hand. Yngvar took it and rose unsteadily to his feet.

"That didn't go well at all," Yngvar said quietly. "Kharjo, do you think we..."

"...Did the right thing?" Kharjo finished the question. "I do not know. If we have somehow made things worse for Camilla..."

"Made things worse? Are you joking?!" a voice cried out. "You held a sword to his throat. I wish I'd thought of doing that before!"

Kharjo and Yngvar turned around and gasped. It was Camilla, standing on top of the world, and Frodnar running into my picture before I could stop him.

"Camilla!" cried Yngvar. "Sorry, we might have ticked off your brother even more..."

"Oh, he's had it coming for years." Camilla laughed a little, then sighed. "I think I forgot how to stand up to him for a while. He could be very determined."

"Am I to assume, by the armour you are wearing, you wish to come with us?" asked Kharjo.

Camilla nodded, practically vibrating with glee. "This time, I'll show you all the way inside Bleak Falls Barrow, then all the way back with my brother's golden claw. Come on, let's go!"

They went.

"What's he doing over there?" Yngvar peered through the gloom at a man wrapped in what looked like fifty layers of cobwebs. "It doesn't look comfortable. I'd prefer to sleep on the ground, personally."

"Um, fellows?" Camilla said nervously. "Don't look now, but..."

"This is different," said Camilla, admiring the wall carvings of the old Nordic gods. "We must be right under the mountain by now!"

"Yes, and I can't entirely see why, given that we already have your brother's claw," said Yngvar heavily. He rotated the heavy gold ornament in his hands, peering closely at its three sharp points and the symbols carved into its curving palm. "Actually, do you see that door, with the circles and the little animal pieces? I have a radical idea."

"All this for one piece of bric-a-brac! What's wrong with people?!" Yngvar sighed as he fought a climactic duel against the Draugr Scourge Overlord, his sword clashing mightily against her ancient frosted blade as they vied desperately for an advantage.

"Want a hand? Hold her steady for a moment!" Camilla was sneaking behind the draugr with her war axe at the ready. "Stay still... Stay still, and... THERE!"

At that precise moment, Yngvar cut the draugr clean in half. Camilla's war axe impacted on his leather helmet, knocking him out cold.

"Kyne's leg hair, what a day!" groaned Yngvar, staggering out of the tradesmen's entrance at the back of Bleak Falls Barrow. "I'm glad you haven't invested any perk points into power attacks yet, Camilla, otherwise I'd have been a... Goner?"

Barely visible in the gloom of night, a frost dragon glared down at him. "Hello," she smiled. "You three look edible."

Yngvar breathed a deep, heartfelt sigh. "Why don't we sleep in the cave?"

[shizuu-chann]

Favorite Places in Skyrim - Ranked

Solstheim - honestly, I just really love this place. It's my favorite map, I love all the creepy sounds in the distance, for some reason I love the ashes everywhere. I don't even care about the Dragonborn questline all that much, tbh, but I love all the side quests. Just *chef's kiss*

Riften/The Rift - In terms of the city, I love the bridges everywhere, I love that it's the home of the Thieves Guild (the best questline in the whole game and I will die on this hill), and I love the scenery, how it's mostly woods/forests and just chock full of trees <3. I just hate the house, Honeyside. I think it's boring and weirdly laid out, and after building your own house with the Hearthfire DLC, all the houses seem a little too small and claustrophobic. *The Shadowfoot Sanctum house you can get with the Anniversary update is nice, but again, a little too small (save for the SICK secret room), and your kids glitch out on console if you try to move them there. At least they did for me, when I tried to move them from one Creation Club house to this one, so I won't be risking that again.

3. Whiterun/Whiterun Hold - This is just my favorite city on principle, because it's so quaint and cozy feeling, and I love how it's laid out. It also has the most impressive Jarl's palace outside of Solitude. Breezehome is a great starter home, but I wish it was a little more impressive, because I would probably stay in Whiterun full time if I liked the house OR if I could build a house. However, I don't really care for the plains areas that much. I like trees, so the flat areas kind of bore me, which is the only reason it's ranked below Riften.

4. Solitude/Haafingar - The city is beautiful, and Proudspire Manor is a nice house (if narrow and HELLA expensive, thank you cupboard hack). The quests are fun, but since it's in the northern area of Skyrim, it's very snowy and cold, like visually cold. Of course not EVERYTHING is covered in snow and ice, but a lot of it is. I prefer warm-toned colors, like that of Whiterun and Riften, but otherwise Solitude is one of my favorites.

5. Falkreath/Falkreath Hold - Love the forests, the abundance of spriggans, and the house you can build because there's a beehive. The village itself, though? Nah. Not for me. Very small, insular, not much going on visually, and both jarls get on my nerves.

6. Dawnstar/The Pale - One of my faves only because I love Heljarchen Hall, and I would always choose this house if only there was a beehive, because I could almost mistake it for living in Whiterun. Otherwise, again, cold and snowy, and there's a fucking giant that always kills my cows.

7. Windhelm/Eastmarch - Only ranking this high because I like Hjerim and where you live in the city. I feel important when I own that house, but I never live there because I don't like the housecarl you're assigned. Otherwise, the blacksmith always calls me a milk-drinker (since I always side with the Imperials, which is whatever but it gets old), the city is full of racists, and it's perpetually winter and snowy, so the color palette is shades of grey only.

8. Markarth/The Reach - It would rank higher, because I like the house a lot, but I hate the mountainous area (because it's annoying to try and navigate), and there's fucking FORESWORN. EVERYWHERE. Just because of them, honestly, this place ranks low on the list.

9. Morthal/Hjaalmarch - Not a fan of swamps. That's about it. I love that there's deathbells everywhere, because they make a great poison, but the spiders, the mudcrabs, the chauruses (hate the motherfuckers)? No, thank you. I genuinely can't think of one thing here that draws me to it. There's not even that many quests, so the place feels like an afterthought, imo.

10. Winterhold - I like his place a lot, to be honest. I want to know more about the Great Collapse so badly, and the Sea of Ghosts is such a cool name. But, like, there's just nothing there. You can't build or buy a house, which is sad, because I think it would have been cool to be able to rebuild one of the destroyed houses and move in. But, it's also just so snowy and cold, and once the College questline is finished, I don't really have many reasons to go there until the Dawnguard quests and Azura's shrine. Missed opportunities all around.

Please reblog with your faves in the tags! I wanna see what they are~

[thetoxicgamer]

New Skyrim mod is the perfect excuse to go outside, touch grass

Old is Skyrim. There is no denying that it remains one of the greatest RPG games ever created, yet it is dated. Therefore, some of Bethesda's environments simply don't hold up to replaying after 12 years, which is where Skyrim mods come in. So rather than having to wait for the release of Elder Scrolls 6, you could play Skyrim right now with entirely updated grass and flora. Skyrim is big, which naturally means there’s a lot of grass, flora, and fauna to be found across Tamriel’s coldest region. While I love exploring the land with a few mods installed, when it comes to the finer, greener, it’s safe to say that the 2011 Bethesda grass leaves something to be desired. This is where ‘JPSteel2’s’ Skoglendi – A Grass Mod comes in. The Skyrim mod is “designed to create compelling and memorable environments while still offering great performance” by improving the look of Skyrim’s grass. You spend a lot of time looking at grass in Skyrim, so it getting a much-needed makeover is great. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lyz7cAmN3lw There are a lot of options with the Skyrim mod, too. You can choose green or brown Whiterun tundras, add optional landscape textures, add some extra trees to “create more realistic Nordic forests,” and even add pine textures to trees that help them blend better with the mod’s general aesthetic. “From Whiterun’s unending plains to Hjaalmarch’s unwelcoming marshlands, or even going beyond Skyrim’s borders, Skoglendi will make sure there is always lush grass for your feet to walk on,” JPSteel2 says. If you were wondering where the name comes from, Skoglendi loosely translates from Icelandic to English as ‘forest’ or ‘woodland.’ To get more RPG goodness, loads of Bethesda games are on offer during a massive summer sale, or you can snag Bethesda’s biggest Fallout game dirt cheap before Starfield comes out instead. If you want even more be sure to check out all of the best free games you can play on PC right now, along with a slew of games like Skyrim that can keep you busy before Elder Scrolls 6 comes out. Read the full article

[belmontswhip]

The Great Forest of Whiterun Hold

[darkfantasyskyrim]

foggy morning in Whiterun

[thedailyimagines]

Imagine Serana finding you during a full moon.

Anon requested: “May I request a Serana (Skyrim) x Werewolf Male Reader? Reader is perhaps this lone wolf that lives out in the deep forests and knows how to defend himself without constantly having to rely on his form. Reader stumbles across Serana one night and they instantly click and become great friends. When a full moon comes out, reader goes crazy and afterwards is afraid she will judge him but she doesn’t and she slips her feelings for him and they get together, eventually they have a kid and happy life.”

.

This is a long fix.

The reader is NOT the Dragonborn. They are, however, acquainted with the DB.

D/b/n = Dragonborn’s name

~~~~~~~~

It was the sound of y/n’s woodpile falling over and quiet cursing that brought you outside. If he had lived in one of the cities he wouldn’t have bothered looking, but living in the wilderness outside Windhelm had taught y/n to be wary of strangers.

Y/n wasn’t an official resident, he just lived in the shambles of an old hut that had long since been abandoned. Sneaking out the back door (really just a hole in the wall covered by a bear fur), he found a person in a hood and cloak trying to be sneaky. The woodpile was scattered across the ground.

“Who in Shor’s bones are you?” The hooded figure looked up, and instantly y/n could tell what she was.

Vampire, the wolf inside him snarled. Y/n calmed it down and tightened the grip on his sword. The vampire held her hands up in a pacifying manner.

“My name is Serana. I’m looking for a vampire coven and was told that I could find help from a man named y/n.” Not good. Very few people knew y/n’s name, and even less knew his location.

“And who gave you that name?”

“D/b/n. Said they were cashing in on a favor to get you to help me.”

“Asshole.” Y/n sighed and ran a hand through his messy y/h/c locks. “Look, I do owe the soul sucker a favor. If they thought you needed my help, it’s probably serious.”

“It is. This coven stole an extremely powerful artifact from me and I need to get it back. Can you help me?” Y/n weighed the options in his head. On one hand, he could say no and go back to sleep. On the other hand, vampires with powerful magic things usually weren’t good news. A loud sigh escaped his mouth.

“...Fine. But it’s a one time deal, got it?”

“Thank you.” Little did y/n know that meeting Serana would set him on a whirlwind of an adventure, leading to the destruction of his shack and moving to Breezehome at d/b/n’s insistence.

<—>

A red full moon was a rare occurrence. And one that caused y/n much stress. Not because he was superstitious, but because (if legends were true) y/n would lose control of his werewolf and become feral for the night.

Which led him to his current problem: finding a suitable place to hide for the night. Or rather, getting away to find a hiding place.

“Serana, I’m serious. You need to stay here.” Y/n was gathering the last of his supplies he would need for the transformation tonight. Food, a spare set of clothes, his sword and armor, healing potions, and a small pouch of coins.

He wasn’t sure if he needed anything else for a Blood Moon transformation, but he was in a hurry. Y/n could already feel the sharp pains in his abdomen, warning him he would be turning soon. He hadn’t felt them since he was a child, and he certainly didn’t miss them. Maybe they were back because he hadn’t shifted into his werewolf form in almost three months.

“And what if you get hurt? This ‘task’ the Jarl gave you is bullshit.” If only she knew how right she was. There was no mission. It was the best excuse that y/n could come up with to leave Breezehome without Serana.

“Serana. If I felt like I couldn’t handle it, I would being you along. This is just a quick trip out of Whiterun and back. I’ll be home tomorrow.” Home and not a possible danger to you, y/n thought inside his mind. Serana just threw her hands up in frustration.

“You know what? Fine. I’ll stay here while you get your ass kicked. Just remember this when you say I was right.” Serana stormed off to her bedroom in the small home, and y/n set off to find a cave or the like to hide in.

Y/n passed out of the gates of the city, unaware he was followed by more than one set of eyes when he left the safety of Whiterun and traveled into the wilderness beyond.

<—>

“Die damn you!” The silver axe aimed at his head missed by a hair. Y/n rolled to the side and stabbed with his sword, cutting deep into the flesh of the Silver Hand member. Five others surrounded him, all carrying silver weapons and ready to put him down.

A sharp pain coursed through y/n, and he fell to one knee. The Silver Hand who had stabbed him retreated back, their sword bloodied and shining in the torchlight. Shit. Y/n tried to stand but one of the werewolf hunters slammed the hilt of their sword into the back of his head, causing his vision to swim.

Y/n dropped back to the ground and tried to crawl away. A leather boot connected with his ribs, sending y/n tumbling to his side. He was struggling to breath at this point, and the stab wound and his pounding head weren’t helping.

“Shit.” Y/n coughed up blood, out of healing potions and having no skill in Restoration magicks. The leader of the werewolf hunters raised their sword above y/n’s head.

Normally the Silver Hand (or any enemy) wasn’t a problem for y/n. He could avoid them easily enough. Of course, y/n wasn’t usually struggling to contain the beast within. And he usually had a certain vampire companion to watch his back.

Not that she knew he was a werewolf. Just like she wouldn’t know where to find his body. Just like she wouldn’t know y/n loved her.

The thought sent a cold chill down y/n’s spine with a grim realization. He was going to die. He’d die alone in a small dark hole without telling Serana how he felt.

“Time to die, beast!” Y/n closed his eyes and waited for cold silver to separate his head from his neck.

CR-AC-K. The sound of lightning cut through the air life a hot knife through butter. The leader toppled over, the life literally shocked out of him. Y/n spared a glance through his blurry vision, and a small smile appeared on his face.

Serana was terrifying in her fury. She wielded her magic like the master she was, sending the Silver Hand flying with lightning while slashing with the ebony dagger y/n had gifted her.

The fight was over in moments. The Silver Hand might be ready for werewolves, but vampires were a completely different story. All six hunters laid dead upon the floor, Serana surrounded by their corpses. Y/n was relieved that Serana was alright.

The relief quickly left y/n when he realized what Serana has done. She had followed him here with the intention of spying on him. She hadn’t believed y/n’s story for a second. And y/n was going to be turning to his beast form very soon.

“You followed me.” Y/n’s voice broke the silence, pain and a bit of disbelief laced in his voiced. Serana walked over to y/n and helped him to sit up.

“Does it bother you that I’m here?” Serana cupped y/n’s face in her hands, and y/n was grateful for the cool contact against his pounding head.

“No, I—” A sharp pain seized through y/n, and an inhuman growl left his throat. Was he already turning this quickly? “Serana, you need to leave.”

“While you lay here bleeding out? Not a chance.” Another growl escaped y/n, louder than the first. Serana’s face knit together in confusion, but she didn’t leave.

“Serana, go.” The desperation was clear as day in y/n’s voice, but the vampire refused to leave.

“No.”

“I...said...GO!” The last word left y/n’s mouth in a roar, and he was unable to hold the transformation back any longer. A howl ripped through the air and darkness overtook y/n’s vision.

‘I’m sorry, Serana.’

<—>

“...y/n...”

“...get up...guards...”

The y/h/c haired werewolf opened his eyes, the wooden timbers above him unfamiliar. Sitting up slowly, y/n winced as a dull ache ran through his bones. Then everything came rushing back to him.

The Blood Moon. Silver Hand. Transforming. Serana.

Was she okay? Y/n didn’t remember hurting her, but then again he didn’t remember anything from after his transformation last night. Just the sight of the moon hanging low and heavy in the sky like a pool of blood and the wolf side of himself howling at its freedom.

There was the sound of someone moving around in the adjoining room. Could it be...?

“Serana?” Y/n winced at how rough and scratchy his voice was. The sounds from the next room paused.

“Y/n?” The vampire came into the small room, and y/n reached for her. Serana pulled back, anger written on her face.

“You’re a werewolf.” The sharpness of her voice caused y/n to wince.

“...Surprise?”

“Surprise? Really y/n! You lied to me, nearly died, and all you say is surprise?”

“I didn’t think—” Serana cur y/n off before he could continue.

“No, of course you didn’t! I’m a vampire y/n. I’ve lived for well over 4,000 years old! You could have told me you were leaving because of the Blood Moon! I would have understood! Instead I follow you and find you half dead, barely conscious, and then you turn into a werewolf!” Serana threw her hands up in the air, walking over to the window and resting her hands on the sill.

“Do you know how I would have felt if you died? It would have destroyed me. I love you, you hard-headed idiot.” The proclamation was quiet, as if meant only for Serana. Y/n heard it all the same and his heart raced.

“Serana, please. I’m sorry. I didn’t know how you’d react if you knew and I—I never expected you to stay for as long as you did.” Y/n took a deep breath, then stood up and with unsteady steps walked to join Serana by the window. He took her hand in his. “I love you. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to be alone again after meeting you.”

“Y/n, you are possibly the most impossible man I have ever met.” Her hand tightened around his, cold fingers intertwined with his warm ones.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“If you ever pull something like that again I’m going to find you and beat you senseless myself.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

<—>

“So you’re telling me this child asked you to kill an orphanage matron, and you did it?” Serana followed her husband through the winding streets of Windhelm, watching for patches of ice. It had been four years since the events of the Blood Moon, and a few months ago she and y/n had finally gotten married.

“Yes.” Y/n slid on a small patch of ice, but caught himself before he fell.

“And you want to...adopt him?”

“Yes.” A large gust of wind caused the couple to tighten their cloaks about them.

“May I ask why exactly? I know we’ve talked about adopting a child, but...” Y/n turned to face Serana and took her hand.

“Serana, he’s all alone in an abandoned house. He needs somebody to take care of him.”

“Fine. But if he says no then we listen to him. I don’t want him to send the Dark Brotherhood our way.”

“Here we are.” Serana has to admit, the small house above the river was rather dreary. Everything in this city was, but there was something about this house.

Y/n opened the door, quiet as a mouse, and walked up the stairs to the second floor. There was a shivering child curled up in a makeshift bed, and the sight gnawed at Serana’s heart.

“Aventus Aretino.” Y/n’s voice was loud in the cold room. The child shot up like lightning with a knife in his hand, calming down a little when he saw y/n.

“It’s you! But I didn’t contact the Brotherhood...why are you back? And who’s she?” Y/n kept his expression neutral, Serana following suit as the child glanced at her.

“You said you’d go back to Honorhall. It’s been three months since that time.” Aventus fidgeted in his spot, drawing the threadbare blanket closer around his shoulders.

“I know I said I’d go back, but...it doesn’t feel right! I can’t go back. Nobody would want me anyway.” It was now that Serana felt her heart break a little more. She could relate to being alone. All those years in the dark...

“You don’t have to, Aventus.” Serana’s voice held a tenderness that was rare to her. The boy turned to the vampire, confusion on his face.

“Then why are you here?” Y/n took a step forward and knelt down in front of Aventus. The boy seemed paler, and a bit too much on the skinny side for his age.

“This is my wife, Serana. We wanted to ask you—if you were comfortable with it—if you wanted to come with us.” Serana went to stand next to y/n, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. But we would be happy if you did.”

“You’re—you’re serious?” Y/n smiled and held out a hand to Aventus.

“I swear it on the Night Mother.” Aventus suddenly lunged forward and hugged y/n’s neck tightly. Y/n’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Yes! Yes! When can we go?” Y/n laughed and wrapped his arms around Aventus. The sight warmed Serana’s heart.

“Right now if you like. Here, take my cloak. It’s cold out.” The three departed from the house and left the city, headed back towards the warmer climate of Whiterun.

~~~~~~~~

I don’t own the above gifs, all credits go to the owners.

[slipperyskell]

Hey, I really love your Cicero headcanons. He's one of my favorite Skyrim characters. If you have the time, how do you think he'll react to the environment in different holds? Or like visiting a city/palace or keep thing for the first time? I know he has a few voice lines for specific things but we all know Bethesda falls short on a lot in this game. Sorry if this is an annoying ask or something.

(Dude, don’t even worry about it!!! I honestly live for these kinds of asks and it makes me really happy that you took the time to write me one!!! Being able to actually interact with my followers makes me happier than you could ever know

Whiterun: Whiterun is one of his favorite towns. It’s by far one of the most peaceful he’s seen, aside from all the supposed werewolves around that Arnbjorn talked about. That set him a bit on edge. But other than that, it’s a very peaceful and prosperous place, one he wouldn’t mind settling down in if he had to. And there’s very few places he wouldn’t mind sticking around in outside of his blessed sanctuary. And that’s not even getting into the legendary Skyforge that rests above Jorrvaskr. One day he’ll have enough money to get a nice dagger made for him… One day…  Dragonsreach is probably his favorite keep/palace of all the capitals. It’s very big and warm looking, and all the people, save for the Jarl’s spoiled rotten, bratty children, are rather nice for those ranking so far up in society. Oh, and to hear the stories of Dragonsreach’s history! The great tale of Olaf One-Eye trapping Numinex in this very palace excites him to no end. Who knows, maybe with the dragons returning, it could happen again! And Cicero could see it for himself!!! 

Windhelm + Eastmarch: Very mixed feelings about Windhelm. On the one hand, it’s a pretty place, with a lot of history. Not to mention a good murder mystery he’s been keeping tabs on! But on the other hand… He does hold a disdain towards most of the Nords of the place, and their treatment towards the minorities of the town. He ain’t about that bigotry and racism, yo. Not to mention the unrelenting cold of the place. The Palace of the Kings is okay. Not terrible, but very hard to navigate and poke around in. 

Winterhold: Cold, desolate, and mostly uninteresting, save for the college. Even then, it’s not like he has the time to devote himself to the study of magic (though he does have a strangely good grasp on Alteration related things). All in all it’s a pretty forgettable place, even with the College in mind. Honestly probably doesn’t even bother going into the keep/palace here. 

Riften + The Rift: His favorite hold capital without a doubt. It’s chock full of criminals, though he honestly wouldn’t hold any interest in joining the Thieves’ Guild, even if he had the option. It’s a pointless venture to sneak around one’s house without sending the gift of a soul to Sithis, if you ask him. He’s scheming almost every time he goes there, observing the people and the security and every single little detail he can muster, so that he may save it for later. Outside of the city, The Rift is a very pretty place, too. Pretty like Falkreath, but not as personal to him. The forest being in constant golds, oranges, and reds make for surprisingly good camouflage with his jester suit. Mistveil Keep is a pretty place, though the people within and all the stories he hears about the Black-Briars does send him a little on edge, if he’s going to be honest. Not that he wouldn’t do anything - of course he would still cause trouble! It’s just… he supposes it provides a good challenge for a change? Makes him really have to think? All in all, the Rift and its capital gets him thinking in a very mischievous manner. 

Falkreath: Probably his favorite hold, based off its looks. Cicero likes to wander the woods, looking for flowers for mother, whenever Astrid or Arnbjorn became too much and he needed to find some kind of release outside of the sanctuary. To be able to wander the forests, and find these hidden away little clearings, or some secluded spot along the shores of Lake Ilinalta… It was a beautiful place. Quite a few painful memories there after the Dark Brotherhood questline is completed, but… still beautiful. Very, very beautiful. The Jarl’s place is relatively uninteresting, though the Jarl himself certainly gets his attention. Cicero was young and arrogant once, but mother was sure to snuff that out of him long, long ago. It seemed no one had done that to Siddgeir yet. Perhaps Cicero should teach him a lesson… 

Morthal + Hjaalmarch: Very dreary, and very wet. Part of him appreciates the constant mist that hangs over the marshes, as it makes for an excellent shroud for when he’s out for a stroll, or for a kill, but at the same time, he can’t stand getting wet in such disgusting water. And don’t even get him started on all the problems with the vampires! He appreciates the un-child, Babette, sure, but to have an entire hold running rampant with them? To have an entire town being under a siege, more or less, with the vampires being the culprit?! It was ridiculous. Madness, one might even say! The Jarl’s place here is also relatively uninteresting, though he finds Idgrod intriguing. A very cryptic old woman. Reminded him of his mother…

 Dawnstar + The Pale: Like Windhelm and Winterhold, it’s very cold, and he gets cold very easy, so on that front, he’s not overly fond of it. On the other hand, however, this is the home of their Sanctuary. But not just any old Sanctuary, the blessed one! Blessed by Sithis himself! He thinks the land sacred, in a sense, and he feels compelled to send a soul to Father every time he enters and exits. It’s only fitting he express his gratitude for such a place, after all! Interestingly enough, he’s rather fond of the town of Dawnstar. It’s a quaint little place, cursed with nightmares, so he hears -  his family haven’t need to fear such a thing, however, as Mother and Father protect their heads. Most of the townsfolk know of him already from his time in Dawnstar before he came to Falkreath, and while they do think he’s lost his marbles, they still welcome him. And, my, my, he never thought he would ever eat so much seafood in his life! 

Markarth + The Reach: A very whimsical hold! Full of hills, cliffs, green grass, fog, dwarves… and those stupid Forsworn and their bird women! He really thinks it’s a beautiful place, not as pretty (and certainly not as peaceful) as Falkreath, but very pretty regardless! Really, if the place wasn’t crawling with the Forsworn, he would certainly love wandering along the river banks and enjoying the view of the towering cliffsides before him. They’re quite calming… Understone Keep is another one of those places that makes him a little uneasy, though it’s more due to the presence of the Thalmor than anything. He was only a child when the Great War happened, but he remembers enough to know that the Thalmor aren’t to be taken lightly. Other than that, he likes learning about all history that’s been uncovered regarding the Dwemer, and probably visits (or breaks into) the Dwemer museum. 

Solitude + Haafingar: Reminds him a lot of home and his youth, which is both comforting and unnerving at the same time. All the different people, and different kinds of people… All mostly rich, in an honest manner or otherwise. Plenty of dark alleyways and full coin purses, perfect for ruffians like himself and his Listener. It’s pretty busy there, though, and unless the Listener is with him, the hustle and bustle can get the better of him and might lead him into an anxiety attack. The jester in his head also tends to come out in this city as well, bitterly reminiscing his days as an entertainer for the royal courts, which was mercilessly ripped away by Cicero so very long ago. He may or may not take his anger out on the poor man whenever he’s here. But what else is there to do for him? He’s dead! And his killer is still so very much alive and unwell, thanks to the jester’s handiwork… All in all, it’s a very love/hate relationship. 

[screamcr]

M E T A    -    S K Y R I M   ( 001 . )

     she doesnt dislike the country of the northern race of men, scarce though it is in the wild nature which calls her home, or the cold that grips her bones even when shes nearly pressed into the fire . she likes the vastness of the land, the wide expanse both above and below the land that seems too hard and cold to grow food, and yet they do, and the forgotten tunnels and caverns where she finds absolute safety and security from the those who seek her out, both thalmor and blades alike . thats where much of her time is invested, in the dwemer and nordic ruins, the veins of skyrim, where she can live to wonder and question the worlds lost to time - much like herself - and where she knows none will venture to seek her out ; its a fools errand, dwemer defenses are notoriously dangerous and draugr do a great job of protecting their burrows . 

    though there are a few holds where she finds herself drawn to thrive, places where they still hold their beliefs above some treaty made by an imerpial emperor . her favourite place to disappear is falkreath, the forest is dense and the fog swallows her songs with a hunger none can compare ; a place where she can make herself just another ghost story, another body to bury within the massive cemetery that gives falkreath some prestige . she can thrive amongst the trees, the quiet, where the land provides everything she could need from food to weaponry to more furs to keep her warm . they need not know she exists, need not worry for thalmor agents to come snooping for her, nor worry for things to go missing ; she is content, satiated, and able to live completely unknown . 

       how, though, she adores whiterun ; the breezy atmosphere, the beautiful expanse just outside the walls, and the safety of neither racial disparities nor thalmor involvement . her favourite spot to pilfer, her favourite place to play as she climbs higher than any have gone since the construction and her laughs becomes songs sung around the hearth of the bannered mare ; she can be a common nuisance at dragonsreach, sitting among the banisters where spiders and birds might nest, tuning a lute or humming a song as she listens to the foreign politics from below ; they’re too lenient in her eyes, more akin to the bosmeri forms of punishment which shes learned are seen as quite disagreeable here . the only downside are the prying questions into the dragons crisis, the wonders of what she plans to do and when it shall end ; questions she doesnt have answer to, questions she doesnt want to think about . 

                                    she just wants to live, cant they understand that ? 

       windhelm is a reluctant hideaway for a reluctant dragonborn . she doesn’t like the cold, doesn’t like how cold the glares are when she first entered and watched as neighbors suspect neighbors for spies, nords blaming elves for their problems and failures ; she wasn’t a dark elf, but even still she felt the atmosphere in her wake, keeps to the grey quarters with malborn . its for the same reason she lurks within the crumbling walls - walls she knows were made by elves forced at the hands of atmorans, befitting for the town - malborn and her know the thalmor would never be able to reach them, never be able to bring down the walls without heightened retaliation, and for that they endure . like the nords in winter, she endures like the shadows, helping where she can - though not always entirely legal by most - so that the grey quarters can be at least a glimmer of warmth so far north . 

[reyofsunlight666]

A Family Gathering (New Fanfic!)

Hi everyone! Feel like reading about Tamriel’s most notorious group of killers behaving like Christmassy dorks and learning how to be a family? Scroll no further!

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22073770

For life with Tamriel’s most notorious Family, Quickclaw reflects, settling into the Dark Brotherhood has come relatively effortlessly. Sure, there are the surprises that anyone would have in joining a new group; Festus Krex snoring louder than Alduin's Shouts, Lis the frost spider not understanding the size difference between itself and an ordinary spider and still trying to crawl into Quickclaw's mouth, Babette snatching away the sauce Quickclaw was about to pour on her dinner with a shriek about having mislabelled the paralysis poison.

Well. Perhaps it hasn't been so conflict-free.

Nonetheless, it is certainly less difficult than Quickclaw might have expected. Part of that could be that she has been kept busy. Between Astrid's and Nazir's jobs, as well as Cicero suddenly joining them, Quickclaw has had little interaction with the entire Sanctuary at once.

But it is almost the end of Evening Star. According to Astrid, the Sanctuary mishmashes every tradition of its members together into an enormous New Life-Saturalia-Baranth Do-Xulomaht celebration. All celebrate together and contribute to the festivities.

Quickclaw has never celebrated the new year with anyone before. A life of self-sufficiency dedicated to the claw-dance and scraping out survival tends to do that. It is the first time she has been invited to festivities like this.

Ridiculously for a mercenary, the thought makes her nervous.

                                                            *

Astrid enters the dining area and wrinkles her nose at the smell. She’s used to blood, of course, but the sheer...quantity in the air is usually only present when Arnbjorn’s torn through a whole group of targets. And it’s usually never near her food.

‘What is all this?’

Babette’s face appears from around the corner. ‘Preparations.’

Astrid comes closer. On the table are a row of small and large bottles, all filled with blood. It’s been neatly done, Astrid notes, the lack of dribbles or drops attesting to Babette’s skill in handling potions that might eat through wood or human skin.

‘Dear sister, I thought you were helping to source our meal for the New Life festivities.’

Babette grins widely, the gesture revealing her sharp fangs. ‘Oh, I am. There will be enough to last me all through the feast, and well into the night.’

‘Is there anything for those of us not blessed with your gifts?’

‘Oh, of course! Veezara?’

At the call, the Argonian enters the room, bearing an enormous plate. From what Astrid can tell with its head chopped off, it looks about the size of a slaughterfish. Its flesh looks raw, but dotted with...

‘Are those nightshade leaves?’

The Argonian brightens. ‘Indeed! In Black Marsh, we are proud of our spices and herbs. We consume the nightshade plant come Xulomaht to represent those gone before us, and because it produces a most magnificently bitter flavour.’

There is a silence.

‘Veezara?’ says Babette, finally. ‘You do know why nightshade symbolises those gone before?’

‘It is a Tamriel-wide symbol, is it not?’ he says. ‘After all, the farmers of Skyrim seem to live on the potato, and that is in the family of nightshade. Is it not a preparation for the Sovngarde they seem to love so much?’

Astrid looks from vampire to lizard. ‘Has Quickclaw prepared anything yet?’

‘Indeed!’ Quickclaw emerges, with armfuls of still more, smaller bottles. ‘This one has appropriated plentiful skooma. You Nords may be content with mere mead, but Quickclaw believes in a more refined celebration.’

Astrid looks at the Khajiit. ‘The last time I saw your people on skooma, they were competing over who could get a dagger furthest into somewhere I never wanted to see.’

‘You see?’ Quickclaw says. ‘Now that is how one rings in the new year.’

      ��                                            *

Nazir pads through the forest beside Astrid and Arnbjorn for the first time. He shared a kill with Astrid during the memorable job of the hagraven turned priestess of Mara, but that was six years ago. Since most jobs the Dark Brotherhood gets are solo operations, Nazir tends to venture out of the Sanctuary alone.

He's remembering those times with longing.

Of course, Astrid and Arnbjorn are perfectly competent assassins to be on duty with; there's not a snapped twig or startled deer between them. It's more the looks they give each other, the grin Astrid gives Arnbjorn as she spins her dagger showily in one hand, the hungry look Arnbjorn gives Astrid as he slowly shows all his teeth.

Is this why, when they do get a dual-assassin contract these days, those two always insist on going out together? Nazir doesn't want to know.

He tries to focus on the task at hand. They're out to source decorations for the Sanctuary, and judging by the trip he'd taken into Falkreath, Saturalia decorations in this hold tend to consist of fir wreaths nailed to doors and candles in jars hanging from eaves.

Bits of branches are all well and good, but Nazir is certain they can find a way to make it truly a celebration. Nazir certainly intends to construct the demons that represent the year gone past that are so popular back in Hammerfell. He just thinks the demons lack a certain...grounding in real-world anatomy.

He taps Arnbjorn on the shoulder. Noiselessly, the werewolf turns. Arnbjorn may be the most prone to brute force of them all, but even he is too experienced in combat to respond to something unexpected by giving away his position.

'What is it?' he says in a low voice.

'I have some proposals for modification,' Nazir says. 'Certainly, we can stick to tradition, but I think our Family should start making traditions of our own.'

At that, Arnbjorn's eyes gleam. 'Are you suggesting...'

Nazir nods, his grin widening. His blades will taste blood tonight, he is certain of it.

And Arnbjorn steps away from Nazir, towards Astrid. 'Dearest. I think the game is set to be played.'

By the stones of Sithis, that was not what Nazir intended.

'Indeed?' says Astrid, drawing her dagger from its sheath. 'And how shall we play?'

'First to stop the heart.' Arnbjorn's face seems longer now than it was a few seconds ago, his eyes gaining a distinctly yellowish cast.

Astrid raises an eyebrow. 'I notice you haven't specified a prize.'

Now Nazir is truly wishing he'd volunteered to be on the food team, like anyone else in the Sanctuary who was remotely sensible. Whatever game they have going on, he suspects it only just begins by the time they disembowel someone.

Arnbjorn draws closer still to her. 'O my Mistress, aren't you in charge of that?'

Nazir clears his throat, loudly. 'Were we not out here to complete a task?'

Astrid begins to speak, but is interrupted by Arnbjorn whirling suddenly and scenting the air. 'Hunter downwind.'

'How far?' says Astrid throatily.

In answer, Arnbjorn tears free of his clothing, fur sprouting all across his body as he lopes into the trees.

Astrid looks back at Nazir. 'Dear friend, I will have reason to thank you for this night.' Then she's off into the trees too with knife in hand.

With screams of agony coming from the next grove over and more knowledge of his sister and brother than he ever wanted, Nazir lets out a well-deserved groan.

                                                        *

Quickclaw is out of the Sanctuary with the Dark Elf, sourcing meats and vegetables for the great feast. Occasionally, they deign to visit Whiterun’s general stores, taverns and food markets. However, most of their spoils have come from using their skills to sneak into the houses of the unsuspecting. Their cart is almost full.

She is uneasy.

For reasons of unobtrusiveness, and to give Quickclaw a legal reason to enter Whiterun, the elf is posing as one of the more old-fashioned Dunmer, claiming allegiance with House Telvanni. While she cannot claim Quickclaw is her slave, not without bringing the Jarl’s men down on them, it is clear who is mistress and who is servant in their disguise.

Quickclaw has not had much contact with the elf since she joined the Dark Brotherhood. Part of that is by circumstance. She has spoken to Nazir and Astrid for jobs, Babette for potions, Arnbjorn to maintain her weapons and armour, but there has been little practical reason to speak with the elf. Yet Quickclaw has not yet sought the elf's advice on a job, nor sought to take meals together. When the Sanctuary comes together in conversation, Quickclaw avoids directly speaking with the elf.

She knows the blue-skins scattered in the eruption of Red Mountain, and their numbers and power are a fraction of what they were. She knows Helseth Hlaalu has long since outlawed the old ways. Yet in a place where her people are forced to squat in ignominy outside every settlement, in streets where children stare and adults do not bother to disguise their hatred, as she walks beside a Dark Elf who sweeps along in robes weighty with tradition while she dresses in threadbare rags, rage and fear coil within her.

After a long day of thieving and bartering, and as the sky darkens, the elf suggests renting a room in the Bannered Mare and returning home the next morning. When they finally settle into the room and the elf has cast Muffle over the door, she says, 'It's good we came to Whiterun together. I have not had much chance to speak with you since you joined us.'

'This one supposes not.' Quickclaw flashes a glance towards her. 'Sister,' she adds as an afterthought.

The elf sends a spark to the candle wick, letting the room dance with its light. 'Have I done something to offend? You must know I wish you no harm; in fact, I was delighted to have new blood in the Sanctuary.'

'Of course not,' Quickclaw manages. Quickclaw looks again at the elf sitting there, thinking of the dark blue hands like hers that whipped people like her, the red eyes like hers that saw people like her as nothing but mongrels.

The elf looks directly into Quickclaw's eyes. 'Is it our peoples' history?'

A hiss escapes Quickclaw before she can say anything. When she looks down, she finds she has involuntarily extended her claws. The elf still has not looked away.

'My people,' says the elf precisely, 'have committed heinous acts beyond my powers of description. It is one thing to send others to the Void. It is quite another to blot out their lives with suffering, deny them their very homes and choices.'

'This one looks for no smooth apologies, nor pretty tears,' Quickclaw hisses, and the candlelight gutters across the ceiling.

The elf stops, and bites her lip. 'I did not intend to dismiss your people's suffering with a few words.'

'Even under Astrid's reign, the blue-skin would not live had she intended it,' Quickclaw says.

'Nor would I expect to,' says the elf. 'If there is anything a Dunmer understands, it is a devotion to one's kin.'

Surprise floods Quickclaw. 'So what was it that the Dark Elf was expecting?'

Gabriella pulls an arrow from her quiver and turns it over in her hands. 'Nothing. I do not wish you to wipe my tears for me, nor do I wish any special exemption from the circumstances of our births. I only wish that we might have a word when we break bread, or share a kill or two. I have no doubt I am ignorant in a thousand ways of the richness of your heritage. But we share a heritage now, do we not?'

'This Family is precious, yes,' Quickclaw says, 'but it does not change Quickclaw's blood.'

'Nor mine,' says Gabriella, 'though I have wished the Dread Father might work some miracle.'

That pricks Quickclaw with surprise again. 'What does the Dunmer mean?'

Gabriella gives her a long, wry look. 'Here I am in a foreign land, with the blood of thirty-three upon my hands and a Family of almost every province, and you ask why I may not be fond of my place of birth.'

She laughs at that. 'So this is no good little blue-skin who listens to their ancestors' every whisper?'

'Not those of my birth,' Gabriella says. 'But as for my sisters and brothers in Sithis? I treasure their lineage and wisdom infinitely.'

A mixture of emotions churn within Quickclaw like stew within a pot. At last, she picks out her words. 'Quickclaw was fortunate to find the Family when she did. This one has no way to hide her nature, and this one would not want to should she have the means. To be Khajiit is to have the very moons' strength within one, and to be tricksy enough to survive a thousand years of injustice.'

She pause for breath, and Gabriella waits for her to continue.

'Yet in a land where cold can burn like heat and the Nord spits on any who have more talents than their brainless blocks of muscle, this one is happy to be strange within strangeness.'

'To be strange within strangeness.' Gabriella grins at her. 'Now those are fine words for a Family.'

'Fine words for a festival,' Quickclaw answers, 'dear sister.'

                                                  *

Festus Krex returns from the last job of the year to find a fir wreath framing the skull on the door. It looks strangely cosy, and he can't say he dislikes the effect.

'What is the music of night?' says the door.

'Silence, my Brother,' Festus replies automatically. At this stage, if the Penitus Oculatus themselves are behind that damned door, he'll take them. He has more than earned his bed after wrangling that orc.

Giggles burst from behind the door. Festus blinks. One can sometimes hear the odd noise from outside the door, he knows that, but for it to be this audible they must be right up against the door.

'What's going on?' he grunts.

'Do you not remember the password, old-timer?' Babette's clear, mischievous tones are unmistakeable.

'Who are you calling old-timer, dead girl?' he says.

Gabriella's laughter is most audible this time. 'The festive password?'

'The festive password,' Festus says. 'The password of festivities. The password I remember in its entirety.'

More laughter spills from inside the Sanctuary. He racks his brain.

'Ah, yes! The music of night is Should auld acquaintance be forgot. Like that old Nord song.'

At that, the door swings open. Gabriella is already down the stairs, but Babette waits for him. 'Happy New Life!'

'I'd forgotten,' he says. 'When you get to my age, you're just grateful to make it from one day to the next.'

'Oh, you're too young for that kind of talk,' she says as they walk into Astrid's study. 'Why, this will be my three hundred and forty-seventh year, and I feel fresher by the day.'

Just at the exit to the study and into the main meeting area, Festus is suddenly hit in the face by...something soft? 'Hey!'

Babette laughs again. He focuses on the swinging object. It resembles those demonic effigies he saw pictures of in The Imperial Pocket Guide to Hammerfell, with its curling horns taken from a ram and the red skin fashioned from paper. Yet its eyes seem more realistic than their usual painted counterparts, and he could swear saliva glistens from its tongue.

'Very funny,' he says, pushing past it into the room.

He levitated the dining tables from their usual place to beside the pool the other day, so he isn't surprised to see them. What is surprising is the amount of decorations that surround them. Holly branches festoon the tables. Fir wreaths, candles in jars and effigies containing body parts surround the tables, hanging from the cave's high ceilings and placed into the little nooks and crannies in the walls. Lis the frost spider is out of her pit, peaceably gnawing on what looks like a whole roasted cow. Even the Night Mother's coffin has been taken from its usual spot and wrapped in holly branches. Surely the clown would consider that an insult to the Unholy Matron, yet -

Wait.

'By the heart of Lorkhan,' Festus bursts out. 'Whose idea was it to give the clown a harp?'

'It was Cicero's own idea!' The clown beams, and plucks all the strings in rapid succession. 'Cicero thought, what is a New Life celebration without a bard? And Cicero remembered that a long time ago, he learned some harp music as part of a disguise! Cicero knows many tunes, yes he does.'

Festus meets Astrid's eyes, standing just behind the clown. Astrid rolls her eyes, but places a finger over her lips.

'Food's up!' Babette reappears from the dining area, bearing an enormous roast fowl. Behind her, Arnbjorn carries roast leeks, carrots and potatoes in one hand, with a large ham in the other. Gabriella bears bottles of wine, mead and blood, while Quickclaw brings up the rear with plenty of skooma.

'Don't forget the fish!' Veezara rushes in behind them, bearing a slaughterfish covered in nightshade leaves. Festus can't see how that's getting eaten, though if it keeps the lizard happy...

At least there is plenty of other food. Cicero strikes up a melody as the others take their seats around the table. Festus pushes in his chair, looking around at the rest of the Family through the candlelight.

'It's been a year I'll be grateful for,' says Astrid, settling into the head of the table. 'Our fortunes are only looking up.'

'We received twice the jobs we had last year,' says Nazir.

'And almost twice the gold,' adds Babette. 'A civil war makes people even more eager to end old grudges.'

Gabriella spears her fork into a roast potato. 'Don't forget our newest Family member.'

'How could we?' Veezara claps Quickclaw on the shoulder. Quickclaw grins.

The harp music stops. 'And me! And me! Don't forget Cicero!'

'How could we,' Arnbjorn mutters.

'Of course,' Astrid says. 'Two new Family members and more prosperity than we've had in a long time. I propose a toast.'

'To Sithis?' Cicero suggests. The others look at each other, but clink glasses and echo the toast.

'To the new year,' adds Nazir.

'And to family,' says Quickclaw.

'To family!' they all echo. They clink glasses as one, far from anyone else, and yet together.

[starbound-surviivxr]

Copy and fill out with what your character’s dialogue would be if they were a Follower in the Elder Scrolls!

Tagging: @techthiev @bountyhuntr @gemstolu @cosmic-gemstone & @cosmosriisen ; if you guys want to do it!~

Tagged By: Stolen, here’s the blank meme (I added my own subsections for diversity)

Initiating conversation:

“Speak your mind!”

“Is there anything you need?”

“Somethin’ ya wanna talk about?”

“I’m being quiet..” (If sneaking)

Exiting conversation:

“By your leave.”

“To the trails, again.”

“Ready to go!”

Asked to wait:

“I’ll be here, then.”

“Maybe I can find a good spot to set up...”

“I’ll call you if anything happens.”

“Try not to go too far...”

“You want me to stay..? Here?!” (if being left in an unsavory place, ie. a cavern)

Spoken to whilst waiting:

- Initiating conversation.

“Done yet?”

“Oh, there you are!”

“And here I was, thinking you’d forgotten me.”

“Are we ready to go? I’m starving.”

- Asked to continue following.

“Right behind you!”

“Warm bed, here we come!”

“Good, this place is starting to give me the creeps...” (if in a dungeon)

- Conversation exited without being asked to follow.

“A-Ah, okay. I’ll.. be here.”

“Nevermind, then? Alright.”

“Not finished yet?”

“*yawn* Think I could spare a few minutes for a nap..?”

Asked to move/interact:

- Command given.

“I’m on it!”

“Sure thing!”

“Alright, give me just a moment.”

- Command denied.

“That’s.. outside of my comfort zone.”

“I’m not capable of that.”

“Are you kidding me!? That’s kind of illegal.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t.”

- Command completed.

“Anything else?”

“Done and done.”

“Easy. What’s next?”

Asked to trade items:

“Here’s all that I have..”

“Need me to carry some of that?”

“Don’t worry, I can hold it.”

“Take anything you need. Within reason, of course.”

Dismissed:

“O-Oh, okay! See you around, then!”

“I hope we see each other again soon!”

“You’ll know where to find me.”

“Hey, stay safe out there okay?”

After dismissal:

“You’re back! Any new stories to tell?”

“Hey! Good to see you again!”

“There’s a familiar face!”

Combat:

- Combat start.

“Oh boy here we go..”

“Enemies dead ahead!”

“Look out!”

“Lykyll give me strength!”

“Kylphar’s undead minions!” (if fighting undead)

“Sephyr’s grace, not this again..”

- Taking damage.

“Ow! That hurt!”

“*incoherent screaming*” (If set on fire / hit with shock magic)

“That’s chilly!” (Hit with ice magic)

- Low health.

“I can’t.. take any more..!”

“H-Help..!”

“I-I can... keep going..!” (Standing)

“I need to heal..”

“Kylphar won’t claim me today..!” (Standing)

- Player on low health.

“Get down!”

“Take a potion, I can handle them!”

“I’m coming! Hang on!”

- Player death.

“NO!”

“No! Don’t die on me!”

“You bastard!”

“Kylphar have mercy...”

Other Dialogue (Specific cities, locations, situations, etc.)

- Whiterun.

“It’s a shame, I bet this tree was beautiful...” (comment on the Gildergreen)

“This place feels so peaceful.. like an eye of a storm.”

“I don’t quite believe those stories about Dragon’s Reach holding a dragon. The building would have burned to the ground, being made of wood, and all.”

- Falkreath.

“The forest around this place.. it’s eerie.”

“There are many restless spirits here...”

“We should stop by the lake sometime, do some fishing.”

- Markarth.

“Don’t any of these people ever fear some of the machines coming to life? You never know what to expect.”

“...I’m not sure I like the looks some of the guards are giving us...”

“I don’t like that house. Can we just go? Please?” (comment on the abandoned house)

- Solitude.

“Wow..! This city is beautiful!”

“I could never live over there... I’d be too afraid of the natural bridge collapsing.”

“...I heard that this place had a lighthouse nearby. Wonder if I’ll ever see it.”

“....I was hoping for something more.” (If taken to the lighthouse)

- Morthal.

“This place smells like undead. Eugh..”

“I heard that a child died in that house, in the fire. What a terrible way to go... I hope her soul finds peace.” (comment on the burned house)

“It’s very wet here...”

- Dawnstar.

“It’s very quiet here...”

“I hope we don’t stay long.. I can’t sleep here.”

- Winterhold.

“All the knowledge locked away in that place.. just think of what history we could learn!” (comment on the college)

“It was a great tragedy, what happened here.. I hope these people can move on soon.”

“Odd that the college managed to survive such a disaster.”

- Windhelm.

“...I don’t like it here.”

“They’re staring at me...”

“Can we finish our business and go..? This place makes me uneasy.”

“I don’t want to stay here at night..”

- Riften. 

“This place is beautiful but I feel like it’s too good to be true...”

“That Maven lady scares me...”

“Hard to believe this is the only place one can get married...”

“Eep! Something brushed my leg!” (If inside the Ratway)

- Throat of the World.

“That’s... a big mountain... Wait, we’re climbing that?!” (In Ivarstead)

“*Heavy breathing* Oh gods... are we finally here?” (upon first arrival)

“Oh wow, you can see nearly all of skyrim from up here... And we’re still not even at the top!”

- Helgen ruins.

“A dragon caused this...? Great Four, help us...” 

[reconfigurable]

The Great Forest of Whiterun Hold

[dovakhiindrabbles]

No don't worry about! It's fine if you never do it actually if it makes you uncomfortable. I actually kinda forgot I even sent you the ask in the first place so no worries :). How about instead a story with Farkas x reader meeting for the first time?

Oh, my goodness thank you so much I truly do appreciate it!!! I’d be more than happy to write out the request for you!!  

Thank you again and have a splendid day!!! Enjoy!! ﾟ+｡:.ﾟヽ(*´∀`)ﾉﾟ.:｡+ﾟ

———————————————————————————————————–

You could hardly see a thing in the inky darkness that came with the night, the only hints of light you were give being that of the stars, scattered high above you.

A bit of you couldn’t help but regret rejecting the offer of Hadvar’s uncle to spend the night, bitter icy winds now nipping at the edges of your bare skin with every single move you made.

Yet through the cold, you heard yells, orders being barked to one another amongst groans and roars of something far from human.

You drew the sword sheathed against you, your fingers wrapping tightly around the mantle as you came closer, gasping as a sudden flurry of fur threatening to slam into you as you staggered back.

“Hit the damned thing!” 

A rough, snarling voice called out to you, ramming your sword against the creature regardless, watching as it twisted to challenge you.

A giant. 

It growled at you, enraged as it began to throw down its club, your feet scrambling to dodge as you darted away, slamming against another body.

“Get the sides!” He called out, hardly able to get a clear look at him as he thrashed his ax against the giant. “Don’t stop hitting unless you’re dead!” 

And truly, what else could you do?

You did all you could to keep swinging at the mountain of a creature, your breathing ragged and body hunched over as it fell to its knees, blood pouring and seeping from its split sides. 

It crashed to the ground, unmoving.

“It’s dead.” 

You lifted your head to see a woman, blue painted claw marks drawn against her features, her auburn hair messy and disheveled. 

She looked at you, her brow furrowing.

“You  –  You fought well.” 

“T-Thank you.” You sighed, sheathing your blade once more. “I… uh…I helped didn’t I?” 

“You did.” 

You glanced at your side to see the man you had heard in the fight, met with a scarred, hardened face, silvery eyes staring back at you.

You would never admit how your stomach fluttered into the clouds at the sight of him.

“You’re strong, you should join The Companions,” He muttered, offering what you only thought could be a hint of a smile.

“Don’t throw that idea around icebrain!” Another woman snapped, peppered hair pulled back from her temples. “We don’t invite just anyone. Offer’s not on the table for a stranger.” 

“I’m uh…I’m sorry I don’t think I’ve ever heard of your group.” You shuffled your feet meekly. “I’m not from here…” 

“What’re you doing here then?” The man questioned, cocking his head up curiously. 

“I was told I should speak with the Jarl of ah - Whiterun?” 

“It’s just on that hill,” One of the women answered. “We’re going that way now if you want to join us.” 

“Oh!” You lit up for a moment. “Yes that’d  –  that’d be great!” 

You shifted back to the man as he simpered, beginning to make his way past you.

After a bit, he turned his attention back to you, raising a perplexed brow.

“Are you coming?” 

It clicked in your head, fighting back embarrassment as you caught up with him, keeping close to his side. 

“I’m Farkas,” He introduced himself, quietly. “Just so you know.” 

“Farkas?” 

He nodded. “You?”

“MC,” You glimpsed at the others. “Who’re they?” 

“First one you talked to was Aela, the other  –  Ria.” He remarked. “They aren’t as bad as they seem.” 

“I didn’t say they were.” 

“Lot of people are scared of them the first time around,” He shrugged, slowing down as you both began to talk more and more. “Most like my brother Vilkas.” 

“How come?”

“I’m strong, he’s smart. You can hold a conversation with him.” 

“Aren’t we holding one?”

“…I guess we are.” 

You laughed softly, folding your arms across your chest.

“So, what exactly are The Companions?” 

“We fight  –  a lot. Not with each other but with stuff like those,” He answered, a bit more shy than he’d be proud to admit. “people pay us for it.” 

“Mercenary work then?”

“Yeah, but we do it for honor, that’s what Kodlak says.” 

Before you could even ask, he continued.

“He’s the Harbinger, our leader.” 

“Okay, okay. I think I might have some idea of what you’re about now.” 

He just barely laughed, as if such a thing might be rare for him.

“Then can I ask you some things?”

“Go for it.” 

“What’re you talking to the Jarl for?”

You tensed a bit, fiddling sheepishly with the ends of your clothes, crinkling your nose as the horrid memories flooded into your head once again. 

“You um…do you know about Helgen?” 

“I heard something happened-” 

“A dragon happened.” 

He nearly choked on air, erupting into coughs as he stared wide-eyed at you. “What?” 

“A dragon came, burnt it all to ashes.” You murmured, your lips sewn into a frown. “I was supposed to be executed.” 

“For what?” 

“It was a mistake, I don’t even remember doing anything. I wasn’t on the list but…but they decided to go on with it anyways…”

You became quiet, your hands and body starting to tremble at the horrifying sounds and visions that entrenched your brain. 

Until Farkas spoke up.

“Let’s get a drink.” 

“What?”

“You’re upset, let’s get a drink.” 

“Do you really think that’ll help?” 

He set a hand on your arm, leading you into Whiterun, a refreshing wash of lights and cobblestone as you were brought into the hold.

“Sometimes it does.” 

“And if it doesn’t?” 

“I guess I’m around.” 

You smiled sweetly, your heartbeat quickening just a tad. 

“That means a lot you know,” You murmured. “Thank you  – I mean it.” 

He seemed almost stunned by the lightness in your words, heat rising onto his cheeks before he ducked his head down making his way to one of the Taverns.

“Just - Come on.” 

You followed after him, the doors opened to reveal laughter and bellowing cries, cups of ale and wine scattered about as common as grass in the forests. 

He sat down across from you, giving a graveled greeting as your cups were filled to the brim with the brew. 

“Can you handle much?” He raised a curious brow, doubt tinted in his tone. 

“I think so,” You scrunched up your nose, your fingers coiling around the alcohol. “I bet you can handle…maybe two spoonfuls?”

He snorted, beginning to drink. “Clever.” 

“I try.” You humored, taking a sip.

Then another.

And then you needed another serving.

And then your minds started to buzz.

Until there was only laughter, pouring from the two of you as you staggered from the tavern, the night still drowning the sky.

You both made it to the center of the town before collapsing onto one of the seats encircling that grand tree that always appeared to be thriving somehow. 

You sank against Farkas, absent-mindedly resting on his arm, his own body reclining against yours in return.

“Weren’t you…weren’t you supposed to see someone?”

“Tomorrow is still a thing right?” 

 “Probably.” 

“Then we’re fine~.” 

“I haven’t…I haven’t talked this much in a long time…” He muttered. “I like you.” 

You grinned at him, unable to tell if the red that came to his face was from the drunkenness or perhaps something else. 

Not that you minded if it was for some other reason.

Not at all in fact. 

“I like you too,” You drawled, feeling his arm shift slightly, curving around you instead. “It’s good to know some people are still kind.” 

“You think I’m kind?” 

“I haven’t met too many people who’d offer a stranger a drink,” You replied. “I hope you don’t mind me thinking so.” 

“You’re not a stranger,” He scoffed, his lip curling. “You’re MC..!” 

“And you’re Farkas!” 

“I am…!” 

You sniggered, watching as his grin only seemed to grow at your giggling. 

“You have a nice laugh…” He hummed, drowsily. “Really nice voice too…” 

“My voice…?”

He nodded sloppily. 

“I don’t like listening to people most of the time…talking too,” He contemplated briefly, nearly surprised at his realization. “but I want to keep listening to you…wanna keep talking to you too.” 

“Is that new for you?”

“Very.” 

He was withdrawn for only a second before turning back to you, his words oddly sincere, albeit slurred and messy. 

“Can we keep talking…?”

It didn’t even take a moment, feeling yourself settle deeper against him, the faint beating of his heart tapping in your ear. 

And it quickened just a bit at your response.

But his smile did anything but fade. 

“I’d love that.” 

[belmontswhip]

fog and rain at dawn