#Thorald

[mareenavee]

WIP Whenever~

Oh Hello it's ON TIME AGAIN!?

Hey. Anyway time tag ya'll! Are we writing like the wind this week? @paraparadigm, @changelingsandothernonsense, @thequeenofthewinter, @thana-topsy, @kookaburra1701, @oblivions-dawn, @throughtrialbyfire, @polypolymorph, @archangelsunited, @miraakulous-cloud-district, @dirty-bosmer, @gilgamish, @elfinismsarts, @saltymaplesyrup, @inquisition-dragonborn, @snippetsrus, @expended-sleeper, @wildhexe, @rainpebble3, @nuwanders, @sylvienerevarine, @demonablack83, @viss-and-pinegar, @late-nite-scholar, @greyborn2, @skyrim-forever, @rhiannon1199 and YOU yes you if I've forgotten your tag, it's actually HERE, you just can't see it. Tag me back :> Do the thing. Write the words!

So for this week, we have finished the Raven Rock arc and moved on to chapter 31 (of The World on Our Shoulders) and our favorite bean is back getting into a Situation~

More fresh-from-the-braincells content below the cut! Some overlap with Arc things, but some new words, too :>

6th of Sun’s Dawn 4E 202

Athis dodged out of the way as a glass greatsword came crashing down from out of the darkness. He jumped forward and stabbed into the weak spot between plates of glass armor. The Thalmor shrieked and pulled a Heal spell into his hands, greatsword clattering to the ground. Both sounds echoed down the stone passageways. In the distance, Avulstein was shouting something incomprehensible, answered by the shrill death throes of yet another Altmer. He had to move. There was no time to faff around with theatrics. The rest of these n’waah would be converging on them like draugr any second from now.

With a sickening crunch, Athis withdrew his sword. The Thalmor scrambled to press the magic into the wound, to no avail. Blood bubbled up out of his mouth as the light left his eyes, guts pooling inside his armor. Athis frowned and flicked the blood off of his sword as the man slumped forward into the mess of his own viscera. A terrible, inhuman howl answered Thalmor screams, which sent a shiver down his spine. Such was the way it had to be, apparently. So much for sneaking.

If Thorald was still alive, he’d be in the dungeons. That would be below ground, the best Athis could wager. Northwatch keep seemed to spiral in a purposefully confusing pattern, not unlike a Nordic tomb, built backwards and lopsided, prone to collapse. He wondered if that was on purpose, perhaps to keep the doomed from ever finding a way out again. With a quick glance around at the cells, it seemed that was the case here, at least. So many corpses, shattered limbs dangling at odd angles, stored in cells. For what, he didn’t want to know. The Thalmor liked to look proper on the outside, but all he’d ever known of them was darkness.

They’d driven his wife away, after all. Even if that wasn’t the full truth, it was enough for him to focus his fury at them. He’d said it before. He’d strangle the life out of every single one of these bastards with his bare hands if it meant making Skyrim safe for her again. He glanced up at the ceiling once the flash of anger passed, the sound of dragon wings still haunting his waking thoughts. As safe as it could ever be, anyway.

He adjusted his cloak, annoyed at the stains blooming over the fabric. He checked his armor — none of the blood was his, thankfully. He was too fast for them on their best days. He tightened his grip on the Skyforged sword, knit his brow and marched on. The roars and and shrieks above him hinted at exactly the kind of fate these Thalmor had brought down upon themselves when they decided to take Thorald.

Athis would have preferred to get in here and get out without drawing so much attention to themselves, or without bringing the ire of the entire faction onto their shoulders before Thorald was safe. The fights could have come later when they were more prepared and not as outnumbered. But Farkas, being who he was, had shifted with the Moons and the low-burning rage he’d been holding inside for weeks. Aela and Fralia had told him to wait before trying to figure out exactly what had happened — in the end, it was more Civil War stupidity.

The increase in Thalmor activity lately had troubled Athis incessantly. He thought about how odd their encounter on the road home had been before Nyenna had run off. Jarl Balgruuf did his best to keep the roads of Whiterun Hold clear of them, but they crawled now like insects, swarming where they shouldn’t. All this after Tullius had made a point of encroaching on some fort or another. Athis hadn’t paid that much attention. After that, the chaos had started to get more and more uncanny, like inroads were being paved for these bastards.

[turflamicgaming420]

FUCK THE THALMOR!!!

[laclefdescoeurs]

View from an Italian street with a view towards a larger city with a cathedral, Thorald Læssøe

[random-brushstrokes]

Thorald Læssøe (Danish, 1816–1878)  - Sunset over Roman landscape

[spooky-donut-ghost-house]

I never understood why The Battle-Borns treat The Grey-Manes as if they are poor

I know they're rivals and all but here's the thing

The Grey-Manes much like The Battle-Borns live in The Wind District which is basically where the upper class live save for Amren's family and Carlotta plus The Grey-Manes run the most notorious forge in the country Eorlund is considered the best blacksmith in Skyrim Eorlund makes weapons and armor for The Companions Fralia sells jewelry made by Eorlund Olfina works at The Bannered Mare the only ones who don't have jobs is Avulstein, Thorald and Vignar

Yeah The Battle-Borns run a farm but you can't expect me to believe that a farm makes more money than the most notorious blacksmith in the country who is literally talked about by every single blacksmith in the country even Whiterun's other blacksmith speaks of Eorlund and The Skyforge you really expect me to believe Olfrid's little farm who has so much competition in the hold with Nazeem, Severio Palegia, Sigurd's farm in Riverwood, Vantus Lorius down the road and Rorikstead which is said to be the most thriving farming community in the hold? I know there's like two other blacksmiths in the hold but you can't expect me to believe that Adrienne and Alvor make more money than Eorlund

[carloskaplan]

Vista das Termas de Caracalla en Roma, de Thorald Læssøe

[helgiafterdark]

oh how i love making elves kill each other. and then to kill the last one standing ❤️

[amzmuseum]

THE “FONTANA OSCURA” IN VILLA BORGHESE

Thorald Læssoe 1816-1878, Copenhagen

Oil on paper applied on canvas

20 x 27 cm

Signed lower right: Thorald LÆSSØE

After a brief apprenticeship with Danish “animalier” painter Christian Frederick Carl Holm, Thorald Læssøe occasionally followed courses at the Copenhagen Academy of Fine Arts, to then decide to dedicate himself to painting as a self-trained artist, along with his friends Johan Thomas Lundbye, Jens Adolph Jerichau, and Lorenz Frølich. Between 1845 and 1857 the artist lived in Rome, in a studio at the 33 Margutta Street. He will come back to Rome only in 1866, three years after his wife’s death, to remain until 1868. There is no doubt that the Roman stays had a significant impact on Læssøe’s art: indeed his paintings make an impression thanks to the strong hues and the artist’s ability to convey the Mediterranean light’s atmospheric iridescence, characteristic common to the majority of painters belonging to the Danish painting “Golden Age” of which Læssøe has been a pivotal figure. The work here presented shows the “Fontana Ovale”, one of the two fountains known as “Fontane Oscure” and located in a perspective position with respect to Museo Borghese boulevard sides. It is thought that the name “Fontane Oscure” is due to the trees’ shadow that immersed the fountain creating, during certain time of the day, surreal and magical atmospheres. They belong to the garden’s seventeenth century planning and are one of the villa’s most ancient fountains. The November-December 1977 exhibition at Palazzo Braschi in Rome, dedicated to Danish painters of the nineteenth century, saw exhibited four of his paintings entitled respectively, Le Terme di Caracalla, Veduta di Ariccia, La grotta di Egeria and Una pergola, and coming from the Museum of Fine Art Copenhagen the first two, the Soro Museum of Art the third work, and the last one comes from a Danish private collection.

[incorrectskyrimquotes]

Every time I catch Jon and Olfina it just makes me smile it's so nice that even in spite of everything they're still in love and together :)

[itsmee00069]

grant thorald park Grimsby

[mareenavee]

WIP Whenever~

Hi Friends <3

I will be switching to simply posting a WIP on Wednesday. If you see this and would like to play along, please always feel free to tag me.

That said, here! Have a small piece of World, Chapter 31. 663 words!

CW: Death, below the cut!

Just before dawn — not quite able to sleep, even if he’d wanted to — Athis shook Avulstein awake for his watch, and that was when all of their hope shattered. Athis watched with bile rising in his throat as Avulstein shook Thorald’s shoulder. His brother had gone still at some point in the night, the shivering stopped, the wheezing silenced, his face pale as the snow that had settled around their campsite. Athis hadn’t noticed. He hadn’t. How? Avulstein began to yell, shaking Thorald harder, but the Nord’s eyes were wide open, collecting ice crystals, and his muscles were locked, frozen in —

Death.

Athis turned his head, unable to shake the image from his mind. Avulstein’s voice faded into the background of his awareness. His stomach churned. Thorald hadn’t made it through the night. It wasn’t unexpected, but seeing someone in such a state was different story. He hadn’t been able to keep moving, and in the end, it didn’t matter. Whether or not they’d have gotten to Northwatch Keep sooner, the Thalmor had already planned on this — the Nord’s death — once they got everything they needed out of him. He was nothing to them, except something from which to extract information, to be tossed away at the earliest convenience.

A new rage burned in Athis, though it was nothing compared to what Avulstein was going through — the sound of his shouting seemed to echo back twofold. Athis’s ears were ringing. Farkas was trying to comfort Avulstein, but his voice came out in fragmented sentences — he was still too shaken from the events of the last day to be coherent. The world seemed to be shifting sideways, and Athis felt dizzy and angry and like he might collapse as he stood on and watched, almost as if he was outside his own body. He wanted to tear his gaze away from the horror of the scene before him, worse almost than the carnage of the keep, but found he couldn’t. Or, maybe, that he shouldn’t, especially as Avulstein’s fury crescendoed and quieted into sobs that wracked the man’s entire body as he knelt there in the snow at his brother’s side. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t. This shouldn’t have had to happen. Athis’s fists clenched, torn, jagged nails digging into the skin of his palms, and as he stared up at the waning image of the moons, he wondered if this was the kind of anger that drove werewolves to change.

Later, when the pyre burnt hot enough that only bits of bone might make it through the blaze, Athis stood shoulder to shoulder with Avulstein and Farkas, noon sun rising high above them. They could not offer their weapons to Thorald, or they would join in him Sovngarde too soon. He would have to go unarmed, relying on the strength of his hands on the other side when he met with Tsun and crossed the bridge. Light bounced off the endless hills of snow, the world silent but for the crackle of flame before them. Athis had gone numb to the smell of burning flesh and hair, instead breathing deep of the still, cold air. Grief wouldn’t strike him now — not while he had to be the one to hold the entire mission together. He had not known Thorald well, but the Gray-Mane clan had been adjacent to the Companions for as long as he’d been in Whiterun, and likely before.

The Nord’s absence had been stark already — a constant worry in the back of Eorlund’s mind that he muttered about while repairing shields and swords for the rest of them. It wasn’t ever just ‘the War’ — never just an abstract thing, as Athis had believed. This was personal, and part of him felt he’d been far too complacent. His place, however, was with the Companions, and that was not about to change, no matter the call to arms Thorald’s death signified, and the kind of chaos that would bring back to Whiterun.

[melsie-sims]

I'm bringing back my Ultimate Decades challenge! It's been almost a year, so below you'll find a quick recap. I only played from 1300 to 1303 so you're not missing much, but you can still access old posts by clicking the challenge tag (or click here to view in chrono order).

1300

We start off with Ralph Durandal as our founder, with his new wife Sabbe and his little sister Beatrix.

1301

Ralph and Sabbe have a son named Thorald, but he passes away before becoming an infant.

Beatrix marries Saeward Llynstead, a local fisherman.

1302

Ralph and Sabbe have a second son named Symond, who survives to infancy.

Ralph ages up to young adult.

Saeward and Beatrix have a daughter named Helewysa, who survives to infancy.

1303

Ralph and Sabbe have a daughter named Everilda, who survives to infancy.

Symond becomes a toddler, surviving his death roll.

Sabbe ages up to young adult.

[queenquinzel715]

Orc Thorald x Halforc Reader

Mature

Word count: 3,281

You've heard of my mother and father's love story, well this is mine. I am (y/n) daughter of Captain Rune, and I'm half orc half human. I take after my father mostly, but I'm much smaller than most orc women. You know I have a brother named Bain.

Over the years I've been helping my mother, and brother with the farm while my father was sailing around. When my brother turned fifteen he went to sail with our father permanently. They kept sailing for a few years until mother got sick. She got the flu, and didn't last the month. My father tried to sail, but only lasted a few months before coming back home. That's when my brother became captain. That's where my story begins. Thorald.

When I first met Thorald I was twelve, and he along with my brother were sixteen. Father docked for the winter, and Thorald with his father stayed in the barn. He had lost his mother that spring to a fire, and it made him quiet. If you weren't my father, his or my brother you might as well forget about him talking back to you. He would smile at me when I gave him blankets, and hot water to the barn. I guess that winter was when my crush started. Every winter after they would stay with us, and when I turned fourteen they built onto the house. Thorald and I would find ourselves in the kitchen at highmoon for sweets, and over the years we became very close.

When I turned nineteen my mother got sick. I found myself getting quiet, and working more than normal. I didn't notice until one night I was carrying carrot bags into the barn when I heard a deep throat being cleared. I turn to Thorald standing with the rest of the bags.

“(y/n)...” he starts as he places the bags down with the rest, and stands tall in front of me. “I need you to rest. I can't have you cold like me.” He lightly holds my hands. “Call me selfish, but I need you to keep being my happiness when I come home from sailing.” He kisses my fingers before leaving me in the barn.

She died that night. That winter they left, and they only returned to let father off.

-skip to beginning of Autumn-

Today started like any other day, I woke to my father humming his and my mother's song, and me needing to start breakfast. I throw my hair into a ponytail, change some of my earrings to different ones, and change into my work clothes. My brother is docking today, so I have to get the barn ready for the extra men needing a quiet place. I already cleaned up Bain, and Thorald's room yesterday.

As I'm laying down blankets, and baskets of food I hear the loudest group of degenerates enter my farm. I chuckle at my own joke as I walk out to meet them as they come around the house.

“(Y/n)!” Bain comes running at me at full speed.

“Bain NO!” I ran around the porch with him chasing me trying to reach me.

I see Thorald, and launch myself onto his back. Clenching onto him like a scared cat. He laughs as his rough hands hold me in place by my thighs.

“No fair you know he won't let me get you.” Bain whines like a grown man child, because he knows how much stronger Thorald is to him.

“The meat is cooking, and (y/n) has cleaned up the place. Now you all go wash up, so you can eat.” My father stops my brother whining as he leans on the pillar.

They all walk off, leaving me on Thorald's back. He looks over his shoulder.

“I'm glad to see that smile of yours. I hated leaving you.” He slowly couches down, letting me slide down his back.

“I can't lie to you. I did go quiet for most of the time you were gone, but when I realized I needed to get things in order I got better.” I smile up at him as we walk inside. “Oh I fixed your blanket.”

He gives me a kiss on my forehead before going to his room. I knew he was saying thank you, but couldn't speak from the others that already came into the living room. The rest of the night went by great with stories, food, and laughter.

The following morning I woke to silence, which is odd for a farm full of sailing men. I go down to the kitchen to only my father sitting at the table eating meat from last night.

“Morning father. Where is everyone?” I ask, grabbing the rib from his plate.

“They are cleaning out the ship.” He swats my hand as he talks. “Apparently they have some trunks that are full of stuff. I don't know. I honestly wasn't listening, I had just opened my eyes.” We chuckle.

As my day went on I would see a couple men here and there, which is odd. They usually lay around when they dock. I don't even see Thorald. He usually is next to me every second until they leave in spring.

“Hey uh Odo, right?” I stop a Satyr that works on the ship.

“Oh yes ma'am” He says very timidly.

“Do you know where Thorald may be?” I ask, watching him fidget with his hands.

“Well I uh saw him on the ship earlier, but we were cleaning it out. He could be in the house.” He tells me, but I know it's not true.

“Alright.” I've had enough of them being secretive.

I march through the farm to my horse, and ride to our docks. I tie my horse to the dock post watching the men stop, and look at me before moving quickly around. What in the world are they doing?

“(Y/n) what are you doing here?” Bain stops me as I step onto the deck.

“I was just checking on everyone. I haven't seen anyone all day.” I look around at them moving crates off the ship onto wagons we use on the farm.

“Oh we have been finishing the ship for winter.” He walks me back down. “We are almost done, so we'll see you at dinner.”

“Now you wait a minute.” I stop his subtle shoving. “You tell me right now, what's going on?” I put my foot down.

“I…I wish I could tell you (y/n). I really do.” He looks down.

“Hhh where's Thorald?” I sigh in complete confusion.

“He's in town.” Bain looks down in shame.

“In town, but I made sure we had everything at home…” I try to look up at him, but he looks down. “Oh. He's there.” I don't say anything else as I mount my horse.

“(y/n) wait.” Bain grabs the reins. “He's not there for that. It's not my place to tell you, but please just wait.” Bain looks at me with hard begging eyes.

I give a subtle nod before I begin riding home. My mind went to what else could he be doing at a woman's hotel. Once I'm home I go inside to work on my baking. I'm halfway through the fourth large orc pie, which is like three human size pies in one, when my father walks into the kitchen.

“Just like your mother. Alright sit down.” He pulls me away from the new pie crust I was starting. “What happened?” He gives me a rag for my hands.

“I found out where Thorald has been today, and I hate it.” I throw the rag onto the table. “He's in town.” He sits for a moment then his eyebrows raise up. “Yea, so I'm baking enough stuff for an army, because I can't think about what he is doing.” I huff.

“(Y/n)!” We hear from outside. “Where's (y/n) guys!” They must have pointed to the house, because someone practically rips the door down as they run into the kitchen.

Thorald is standing in my kitchen with no breath, a torn shirt, and marked face. My father beats me to stand.

“I think it's best you go outside, Son.” He tells Thorald.

“I can't go until you understand why I was in town. I can't let you think…” My father starts pulling him to the backdoor. “No.. Rune, come on.” He is mostly muffled by the door, and then I hear my father's muffled voice.

I almost fall out of my chair when a deep roar comes through the air. I silently get back to baking, and when my father comes inside, he just sighs at my back before going to the living room. The rest of the day, I hear banging coming from the woods behind the barn, and I know immediately that it's Thorald. I grab my basket, fill it with a little of everything I made, and head toward the banging. I come to the clearing and see Thorald hammering a board to the side of the building. I set the basket down on the stack of wood he has next to him. He reaches for another piece of wood when he hits the basket handle, making him look down and then up to me.

“(Y/n).” He drops his hammer as he turns to me.

“You've been out here all afternoon, so I brought you food.” I don't know what to do, so I just look at the basket.

“I won't touch your food until you listen to my truth.” He sits on a log as he wipes himself with his shirt.

I move the basket to his hands as I sit next to him with a sigh. He hands me a pastry with jam, and then grabs the sandwich I made.

“I'd never touch a woman other than my own woman. I was at the hotel, because I found out my mother's sister is working there. I went to talk to her, but she would rather work there.” He shrugs. “I understand why you thought I was doing that, I would think the same, but I would never do that to you.” He pulls me to his side. “I was hoping…well I was hoping I could have your permission to be involved in the courting ceremony.” He stumbles over his words, and he doesn't realize he's squeezing me.

“You'd want to court me?” I look up at him in shock. Me? “Thorald you do know there are women fighting in the Town Square to even start the courting process with you.” I tell him in general amazement.

“Yea. I saw some of that today, actually none are my type. I like my women (y/short/tall he's 6.5), and (y/plus “soft”, athletic “lean”).” He smirks down at me.

I turn with a burning face, and look around the building he was working on when I came up.

“Don't answer yet. I want to do this right.” He gets up, and begins hammering again with more speed. I giggle as I watch him build away.

Throughout the fall months I would wake to gifts on my nightstand. My favorite is a cape he made with a fur cape. As it started to snow it kept me so warm. I would also give my own gifts for this courtship by having his lunch and dinner when he'd walk into the kitchen. I also am making him, well us, a quilt for when the courtship is over, and we get married.

I wake up earlier today, and as I'm getting ready I hear the floorboards creak. I hold back my giggle as my doorknob starts to turn. I quickly step behind the door once it begins to open, and Thorald quietly steps into the room. His back is to me when I tickle his side making him jump around with a deep growl.

“What are you doing awake?” He chuckles as he moves closer to me practically caging me to the wall.

“I don't know I woke up bright today.” I lean against his body for his warmth. “Besides I wanted to catch who was leaving me things.” I look up at him with my hands resting on his chest.

“Things like this?” He holds up fur gloves that matched the cape.

“Oh it matches!” I exclaim as I take them to try on. “They are so soft. Thank you.” I hug him with my face cuddling in his chest.

“I want to take you somewhere.” He plays with the ends of my hair while he hugs me.

He helps me put my new cape on, and leads me to the building he was working on when he asked me to start the courtship. It's now completed to be a great looking cabin. A lovely porch with a swing. I always wanted one.

“This is your home.” Thorald tells me as he leads me up the steps to the front door.

“Mine?” I ask, looking up at him confused.

“Yes I built this for you, and hopefully me if you accept my courtship.” He walks me around the cabin showing me the living room with a big fireplace, a big kitchen, and a couple rooms.

He made the wood on the wall look so smooth, and classic looking. I couldn't see myself anywhere else.

“I love it.” My cheeks hurt from smiling so big. I walk into the farthest bedroom. “Oh wow.”

I jump onto the big bed, and bury myself in the soft blanket and pillows. I roll around with groans and sighs. I'm so wrapped up in the soft bed I jump out of my skin when a hand rubs up my leg. I look up to a smiling Thorald.

“Thorald you know I accept this courtship. I wouldn't have said yes before if…” I'm silenced by Thorald kissing me so hard that his tusks poke my cheeks, and I feel mine press into his cheeks.

The warmth of his body wakes mine up as he leans over me. My legs completely open for him to rest in between them, and to rest on his hips. I moan against his lips as I squeeze my knees to his sides as he slides a hand into my hair, and his other arm wrap along my lower back making me arch toward him. He started to quickly kiss down my cheek to my neck, he tightens his hold on me.

“Thorald.” I moan out as I grab his arms.

His growl sounds frustrated as he leans back on his hand, and looks me over. In a blink of an eye he is ripping my clothes off of me, causing me to let myself lose. I push him up, so we both are on our knees, and begin to pull his clothes off. His hands hold me hard against him once his clothes are with mine on the floor of our room. I moan as I reach up to kiss him. With his hands roaming my body I grip his shoulders as I melt against his warm body.

“Lay down for me, baby.” He softly says in my ear.

He stays on his knees as I lay back onto the pillows. He runs his hands up my thighs as he leans down with kisses going back and forth from one thigh to the other. The grip he has on my thighs will leave a mark, but I'll love the memories. He stops for a moment giving me a quick glance before running his tongue along my opening. I gasp with a quick hand to the top of his head, but his tongue goes faster side to side, and around my clit before he begins to suck. I jump up scratching his shoulder while leaning on my elbow so I can watch his tongue move. His tongue then disappears into me leaving my head to fall back with a gasping moan. My legs are locking against his head as I begin to shake.

“Thorald please yes.” I fall back onto the bed with a deep gasp as he gives one finally suck.

I watch him as I catch my breath as he lifts my legs to hold in one hand as he holds himself in the other moving the head along my opening. My eyes clothes as he begins to push in making us both gasp. Him pushing completely through makes me lock my eyes with him while holding onto the back of his neck. He leans on one elbow as he holds me close with the other as he begins to move.

“I can't believe you accepted.” He kisses me hard.

“Thorald I…” I can't talk, I'm too overwhelmed.

“Just relax against me, baby. I got you.” He bites my earlobe as I hold onto him.

With me holding onto him he sits up with me on his lap. His hands move from my neck and back down to my hips as they move on their own. I lean my head against his as I roll my hips with a tight hold on his shoulders.

“That's it.” He groans into my shoulder. “(y/n)!” I begin to shake against him.

“Thorald please…” I moan out. “help.” I moan in frustration.

He tightly grips my hips, and helps me grind against him. I arch up with a loud scream like moan when I finally let go. Thorald takes my breast into his mouth as he lays me down. He pounds into me with a groan, tight squeeze of his arms, and his hot seed fills me.

“Oh my Gods.” I gasp for breath.

He rolls over with me on his chest.

“I can't let you go.” He softly says into my hair.

“You don't have to.” I smile into his chest.

I gasp as I feel him to get hard again as his hands move along my back. I move my hips as I lean up with my hands on his chest. His hands keep moving along my body as I move my hips to grind slowly against him. He pulls me back down to kiss me bringing his knees up, and begins to slowly push up. I hold the back of his neck as I hide my face into his neck with a moan. He moves faster with each moan that leaves me, and in seconds I'm practically screaming with him holding me down with deep rams. I tighten up against him with a tight grip on the back of his neck, and I finally relax against his body with a loud relaxed moan. He follows seconds later with a deep growl, and him gripping my chin with a deep kiss. He slowly pulls out of me, and softly rolls us to our side, holding me to his chest.

When I woke up that morning I had breakfast on the nightstand, and a naked orc trying to sneak back into the bed. I giggle at him as I pull him into a kiss. We pull back for him to pull the tray over my lap as he sits behind me, letting me lean against him. I lift pieces of fruit and bacon up to him, and we enjoy breakfast.

We got married that spring, and stayed in our home for a month before they had to start sailing again. After two years Thorald stopped sailing to stay with me on the farm. Which was smart because I ended up pregnant with twins, our boys Arik and Dagen. I had our daughter, Astra, when the boys were five.

[random-brushstrokes]

Thorald Læssøe (Danish, 1816–1878) - La Fontana oscura a Villa Borghese

[thegraininessofitall]

Dancing in film

The Darmora Ballet

in Gaslight (1940), dir. Thorald Dickinson

(choreographer unknown)

[patemi-pk]

Thorald will be published in two weeks in Italy.

With the Simonson cover, which is... a cover. Undeniably a cover.

Oh, it's 3590, not 3580, just a typo.