#anti-skyrim-romance

[jhunals]

team dragonborn dashboard simulator

(in which the gang discuss the thalmor, rumarin tries something new, an alpha male ventures over to tumblr, and the ldb has a rough time)

[part 2]

🗡��� dragonguard_kaidan Follow

I want everyone to know that @ thlmr.tal has a history of racist behavior, and you can see it clearly in his old posts. It's not a surprise that he still wears the robes of an organization known for gen*cide.

🐱 thlmr.tal Follow

You scrolled past all the pictures of my cats on my blog to get to my old posts (from years ago, mind you), and you still left salty?

🌱 greenauri Follow

that in no way excuses what kaidan accused you of?

🐱 thlmr.tal Follow

Ah. Well, I have a knack for brushing off my problematic elements.

718 notes

🌼 prince.cary Follow

just as a reminder, i am no longer affiliated with the thalmor. in fact, i actively speak out against them quite often.

🌼 prince.cary

update: my father found my blog and thereby my location due to the attention this post got. will be going offline for a while

22,467 notes

👹 rumarin Follow

about to try this new type of skooma since i don't see anyone else doing it

👹 rumarin

this skooma aint shit

👹 rumarin

who am i . what am ido ing here?

👹 rumarin

ithink i i h9 myslef

👹 rumarin

hmster

👹 rumarin

th dragobnorn wasrigh .t i tinki shld see a teraphist

👹 rumarin

update: it went well 👍

🐉 ldb Follow

ru what the fuck

🥴 elffcker96 Follow

we love you king but you should get help

5,302 notes

😈 bluecatinigo Follow

INIGO THE BRAVE

Volume II, Part V

Inigo was meandering past a farm, when suddenly he was caught in a surprise rainstorm. He ran for cover on the farm's porch, and the door promptly opened behind him. Within stood a tall farmer of unspecified gender and race.

"Come in, friend! The rain can be dreadful, but I have made some soup to get the chill out," said the farmer.

Inigo was grateful for the hospitality, and he followed the farmer inside.

-------------------------------Keep Reading-------------------------------

📜 scholarlucien Follow

Enlightening update! I did not see the plot twist coming. Glad Inigo survived that dragon attack :)

476 notes

🌱 greenauri Follow

i'm tired of EVERYTHING. i want to leave this party right now.

🌱 greenauri

yes, inigo and lucien were eating sweetrolls in front of me again

7,564 notes

🐺 rangerbishop Follow

A woman in a tavern is a red flag. I saw three yesterday laughing together at the Sleeping Giant Inn and I immediately knew something was up. Avoid these wenches at all costs. All they want is your coin.

🪲 thecuntress Follow

yesss pop off king

👑 sapphicmonarch Follow

saw this guy getting his ass kicked by a MUDCRAB on my way to markarth. in case ur wondering i did not help him

🌩️ drowstorm Follow

this dude asked me out. he made me pay for both our drinks btw

🗡️ dragonguard_kaidan Follow

go to hell you you piece of hsit

🐊 lucifer.the.argonian Follow

you know this site is predominantly non-men right? idk what kind of audience you were expecting but you will not find it here

👊 mickeysdicksmasherthelorefriendlykhajiit Follow

this mf needs to SHUT UP

632 notes

🐱 thlmr.tal Follow

reblog if you would fuck the LDB

🐉 ldb Follow

taliesin why would you post this

🐱 thlmr.tal Follow

I need to scout out my competition.

72,890 notes

urls (some are a little on the nose lol):

ldb = the last dragonborn

dragonguard_kaidan = kaidan

thlmr.tal = taliesin

greenauri = auri

prince.cary = caryalind thallery

rumarin = rumarin duh

bluecatinigo = inigo

scholarlucien = lucien

rangerbishop = bishop from skyrim romance mod

lucifer.the.argonian = lucifer (the argonian)

mickeysdicksmasherthelorefriendlykhajiit = based on foulserpent (on tumblr)'s dragonborn and their video series on bishop

all other urls = random npcs

[nerevar-quote-and-star]

True horror is when your headphones randomly disconnect in the middle of Bishop saying he'll rip the LDB's clothes off and your dad is like ten feet away on the couch and the audio keeps playing out loud

[mysteriouspenguin29]

what language have you spoken i only know disrespect

i notice in the mod Bishop never treat you as he equal, he treat you like you’re lower then him, mother fucker can see take dragon by youself and think “i can totally do better”

so here anikan like meme of our favorite disaster duo

if you can can’t read it it says you’re very capable women i’ll join you

Rose: we’ll treat  each other equally right

bishop: ...

rose: right?

bitch what  are you saying, all bishop knows is sex, disrespect and being a racist 

[spicy-lemnade]

Everybody seems give shit about TES lore but for me, I don't even care? lol I'm only talking smack about the characters and writings. Lore is whatever

[jhunals]

lethal-liability are you a time traveller

Hey was it you that posted the "chad kaiden vs virgin bishop romance mod" meme? I finally watched a playthrough of bishop's mod and I've been looking everywhere for it

sjsbjhbsjhbs no that wasn't me sorry, I dont even remember ever seeing that meme. If I stumble across it i'll let you know though, or maybe some of my mutuals know where to find it

[londonhalcyon]

Fic Writer Interview (20 Questions)

This tag game passed by twice, once in January (because apparently this post has been sitting in my drafts that long) and again several months later, so forgive me for not remembering who to tag! These questions seem fun, so if anyone wants to join, feel free to say I tagged you!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

20 at the moment, with plenty more WIPs.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

480,895 words and counting.

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Not counting TMW bonus content, the top 5 are:

The Mad Witch (758 kudos)

"The Scarlett Cauldron" (77 kudos)

"Fear Itself" (76 kudos)

"The Most Powerful Witch" (72 kudos)

"Piper's Best Worst Day" (57 kudos)

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to! I love engaging with my readers and other members of the fandom. Every comment always makes my whole day. Life gets busy sometimes, so I don't always have the time to respond to every single one, but I definitely see and appreciate all of them!

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Usually my fics have fairly hopeful endings, but "3 Years Ago," a pre-canon Murdered: Soul Suspect fic might fit the bill. Sometime in the future, it has the potential to be topped by "Will of the People," a Fallout 4 WIP that revolves around the Diamond City anti-ghoul riots.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

My Secret Santa fics, "It's Not the Fall" and "Flawed Phials," definitely have the fluffiest endings!

7. Do you write crossovers?

Nope!

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I get rude or condescending comments on occasion from people who don't know how to hit the back button and/or are unfamiliar with fandom etiquette, though nothing actively malicious. The one time I received a transphobic/homophobic message in response to TMW it was private (if it was public, I would have deleted it; I don't give a platform to that kind of thing at all), and honestly I hope that person is in a better place now because they really didn't seem okay at the time. I'm fortunate that the vast majority of my readers and mutuals are such wonderfully amazing and kind people.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes, BUT, before you get too excited, not in The Mad Witch. Smut is by definition graphic, and TMW has a Teen rating that shall remain unchanged.

The smut scenes I've drafted so far (F/F and F/M) are for my Rosemary Reaper series (post-canon Fallout 4 WIP). Those fics will all be rated Mature, so while not overly explicit, they'll definitely be spicier than TMW. Maybe I'll share a snippet sometime if there's any demand for it.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of?? I have long since deleted my Wattpad account, so my fics should only be on AO3. If anyone ever finds one of my fics elsewhere in the wild, please let me know.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have not, which is probably for the best. I would like to make some heavy edits to the beginning of TMW when I'm done with it.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not a fic, though I have co-written a short fantasy story with a friend, with him writing for one POV character and me for another. We agreed on major actions and story beats, but we each kept a major secret that we didn't reveal until after we had written our individual parts. It was a lot of fun (though we were both painfully unskilled at the time).

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I don't know if I really have one. I have ships I enjoy and characters I like to pair with OCs, though nothing I feel properly obsessive over. This might be a consequence of primarily writing for video game fandoms. But I do have my default game romances: Merula in HPHM, Piper in Fallout 4, Marcurio in Skyrim, etc. I'm also a sucker for unrequited love interests, like Serana in Skyrim and Aveline in Dragon Age 2. The ANGST.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I never want to say never because I'm currently 83,435 words into the last fic I said I would never write. But there are two fics that I'm almost certain I will never finish, which I'm kind of sad about: my post-canon Murdered: Soul Suspect longfic, A Certain Darkness, and my RWBY OC team longfic, DSRT.

I made it just shy of 200,000 words into A Certain Darkness before I had to drop it. My writing skills ended up surpassing the progress I had made, and by the time I realized how many characters, relationships, and plot points were just straight up bad, I had written myself into a corner. I do love Joy and Angel so much, a medium/ghost duo with way more homoerotic tension than my closeted teenage self ever intended. Maybe one day I'll gut the story, drop the characters into a different setting, and make it something original. One day.

DSRT ran into a similar problem, though fortunately I only ever wrote the first few chapters. I could probably reattempt it if I really wanted, but with the overwhelming number of WIPs I already have, it's hard to imagine finding the time. I do miss my team of teenage idiots: Dustin, Saul, Rosemary, and Talos. It was supposed to have a really tragic ending too, which I don't often get to write.

15. What are your writing strengths?

I often receive compliments on how human I make my characters feel, which is the highest honor anyone could give. I've been told my dialogue frequently flows smoothly too.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Conciseness. Why is this post so long omg.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Do it carefully and with necessity. Maybe a character is bilingual and blends languages, so it's part of their characterization. Maybe a password or spell needs to be said in another language because it's old or pretentious. It can work, but it can also be easy to mess up. I personally avoid writing dialogue in languages I don't have a good grasp of, or I try to consult other people if I do (not Google Translate, which sucks).

There's also the matter of if the POV character even understands the language being spoken. If they don't, then I don't write the language out (unless it's a phrase the character is going to learn later on). In these instances, it makes more sense to write something like, "The man muttered a phrase in a language she didn't recognize," or "She fired off something in Spanish, the words too quick to catch."

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Star Wars the Clone Wars, baby! I was like ten or eleven. Never published, but my worldbuilding for that longfic (a saga, more like) was insanely elaborate. Alas, another story for the WIP graveyard.

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

Eventually, I want to get back to my Skyrim WIP, which includes a main Dragonborn/Marcurio ship. Maybe even with a little Dragonborn/Serana infidelity on the side (which Marcurio absolutely does not deserve, the poor guy).

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I mean, I have to say The Mad Witch, don't I? That fic is where my community is, where every time I post a chapter I have a ton of people who get excited about it with me. It is the story I think about constantly, that I have spent literal years writing and daydreaming about. No matter what I've written before or will write since, this will be the defining fic in my journey as a writer.

That, and I have a special fondness for "Case by Case." I just think it's neat.

[argisthebulwark]

Is it possible to see your Skyrim playlists 👀 particularly the Miraak one (I understand if not!)

oh hell yeah. sorry for liking edgy music. These are the playlists I use for writing these characters so the lyrics aren't always specific to them, they just get me in the right headspace to write my favorite fellas. some of these are loud, maybe lower your volume just in case. A lot of them are love songs because that's what i write!

Miraak

Snow - Ricky Montgomery The Night We Met - Lord Huron The Worst In Me - Bad Omens Never Think - Robert Pattinson I Will Possess Your Heart - Death Cab For Cutie Arcade - Duncan Laurence As The World Caves In - Sarah Cothran Let's Talk About Your Hair - Have Mercy Such Small Hands - La Dispute In The End - Black Veil Brides Love Like Ghosts - Lord Huron This Loneliness Won't Be The Death Of Me - Being As An Ocean Always Attract - You Me At Six Okay I Believe You, But My Tommy Gun Don't - Brand New Weak At The Knees - Have Mercy MANTRA - Bring Me The Horizon Sad Prayers For Guilty Bodies - La Dispute Sex With A Ghost - Teddy Hyde Ivy - The Amity Affliction

Brynjolf

Hold Onto Me - Mayday Parade If I Tremble - Front Porch Step Until I Found You - Stephen Sanchez Ashes - Stellar Stay - Mayday Parade I Love You Like An Alcoholic - The Taxpayers Jesus Christ - Brand New How Do I Tell A Girl That I Want To Kiss Her? - Modern Baseball Talk To You - Ricky Montgomery Come Alive - Jackson Wang The Most Beautiful Bitter Fruit - La Dispute Red Lights - Stray Kids I Can Wait Forever - Simple Plan Yellow - Coldplay Hell's Comin' With Me - Poor Man's Poison A Shitty Love Song - JYE You Had Me At Hello - A Day to Remember Caraphernelia - Pierce the Veil

Vilkas

Peach - The Front Bottoms Anti-Romantic - Tomorrow x Together Die First - Nessa Barrett I Hear A Symphony - Cody Fry Art School Wannabe - Sorority Noise Set Me Free - The Amity Affliction Taste - Stray Kids Monsters - Matchbook Romance Oh Well, Oh Well - Mayday Parade Until The Day I Die - Story of the Year Sleep - Citizen No One Does It Better - You Me At Six If I Should Go Before You - City and Colour Bloom - The Paper Kites I Don't Mind - Defeater A Lovely Mess - Front Porch Step I Swear This Time I Mean It - Mayday Parade If I'm James Dean, You're Audrey Hepburn - Sleeping With Sirens and obviously Animal I Have Become - Three Days Grace

[bythenineshards]

Omg what was up with that Feysand stan on ur post????? ITS JUST A THEORY. (Not to mention a MUCH better pairing) and lol if Feysand was always endgame why in the fck does Rhysie SA Feyre??? Did Sjm do that to build sexual tension (cause Feyre says in Acomaf she had "wanted him even then") AND THAT'S INFINITELY WORSE!!

Lmao they tried to fire up on one of my posts too and I immediately blocked them. Seen them one too many times fighting about posts that's none of their business. Like life is so empty u need to fight with strangers on the internet to feel something. I am literally so mad not them saying Tamlin Apologists deserve to be bullied?!?!? For liking a fictional character????!!

I took personal offence to that

Ha! See! I told you I would respond today. I totally didn't get sucked into Skyrim and my writing and nearly forgot.

Idk what their problem was. They blocked me like the first week I was on here so I didn't think much of them. I knew about them because there would be discourse on posts and an invisible opponent. So I guess they unblocked me to stir shit and idk, get more traffic to their blog? They rebranded with a name that is clearly meant to draw in Antis of Feysand. I think they're like 15 and so I guess they're in their "I'm edgy look at me phase" where they want to pick fights because they think they're always right and special. I'm so glad I didn't grow up with my cringe behavior on the internet.This is why we don't sell erotica or "dark romance" to children. They can't handle speculation or discussions. I bet they cry over Marvel's What If... series because it's not Canon. Like... the post that had them all fired up was speculation about something we have receipts for. And a lot of people liked the idea. All they do is make the books look worse.

And the way they talk about Feyre vs. Nesta is like they think they're written by two different people. This isn't Harry Potter (fuck you Rowling) vs. Twilight (fuck you Meyers). I don't think Feyre gets a free pass to transform into a person of another race just cuz Nesta and Gwyn modelled their stuff after the Valkyries. I think both are bad and icky because the same author wrote both and clearly doesn't see how offensive that could be. I do, however, think that there's a difference between what Feyre did and the Blood Rite. Nesta, Gwyn and Emerie were kidnapped and forced into the Blood Rite. They didn't actually choose to.

Side note though: Valkyries are from Norse mythology. It does chap me that she couldn't use a mythology or create something new for her Illyrians to flesh out their culture. She just used a primarily white culture for her non-white character's culture.

Sorry to rant about that. It just irked me.

I can't for the life of me understand why anyone would ship Feysand the way it's written in Canon. I can with 100% confidence say I've never written a romance that involved anyone SAing anyone. Hell, I don't feature SA at all really. I don't want it in my fantasy. I want people to find peace and love in my books. Men have written enough SA in fantasy, it doesn't need any from me.

But like... if you look at their posts, the reason I don't like Feyre is because I wanted "my fav" to end up with Rhys. They can't fathom that I don't like Rhys at all. I don't like any of her men. They don't appeal to me at all. The only one I might’ve had any inkling of interest in is Kallias but I'm sure if we spent more than a handful of pages with him, I'd hate him too. I think she'd eventually change all of them regardless of appearance to something shallow and toxic.The Bat Boys specifically are boring to me. Their designs suck, their personalities suck and the way they treat their women sucks. Nothing I see in her books is what I would classify as love. Her books aren't about love. They're about sex with hot dudes. But you know what? Other books do romance, love and even just sex better.

I'm glad you blocked them. Just know, they still spy on us.

Thank you for your ask. I hope you're doing well.

[nerevar-quote-and-star]

Cael? Okay, whatever floats your boat. He's decent. Half naked, but decent.

But the rest? I mean this kindly

TES' spirit of no exact canon where players make their own stories within the world means that you should have also included a bunch of modded followers, and particularly that guy in the Skyrim romance mod who keeps calling you "Sparrow" and lives in a cage.

god no bc if i put one guy from SRM into the poll that means all of them and that means.......

[couhawla]

WELCOME

hello fellow loser! i’m celine and you’ve stumbled upon my multifandom sideblog. this little pinned post is going to be a about me to get to know me and what this blog is about better. i kindly ask you to at least take a quick scan of this post, especially if you are planning on interacting with me and want to avoid issues/a block (i love blocking ppl, so be careful ;))

below the read more you will find everything you need to know. if you need clarification, please do so!

celine

22 years old

she/her (female)

mixed (white-black)

german-american (bilingual too!)

finishing my marketing bachelor

this blog will include me being a horny bitch, saying mature things and interacting with mature things

i'm not planning on anything hardcore, but i can't promise anything lol

because of this, i will not be interacting with anybody that doesn't have a age 18 and over VISIBLE in their bio

i know some of you youngins will lie about your age (i sure did hehe), but respect the fact that talking to you guys about this stuff makes reasonable adults uncomfortable

this blog focuses more on videogames i'm currently playing, but will likely include tv and movie fandoms in the future fandoms include:

dragon age

mass effect

skyrim

fallout

legend of zelda

animal crossing

sims 4 (probably won't be posted here)

stardew valley

roots of pacha

cyberpunk 2077

pokemon

horizon franchise

probably more lol this is specifically for dragon age fans since that is what i'm currently fixated on lol:

i am vehemently a anti-solas, anti-anders, anti-sera person

meh about morrigan, sten and vivienne

cullen is my canon romance in inquisition

my inquisitor canonically supports the templars

my mage!hawke is torn between templars and mages

i personally think circles should be repurposed and restructured

mages are inherently dangerous due to their nature of being easier to possessed and people aren't wrong to fear them

comparing mages, a group of people that is easily possessed by demons, with marginalized groups (especially people of color) makes YOU racist, so don't call other people racist for supporting templars or supporting circles ya hypocrite :)

people's choices in a videogame doesn't inherently make them bigots, racists, etc. in real life...its a vidyagame ya loser if any of this bothers you strongly and makes you want to argue with me or be a little brat, i recommend you block me and find something to do that makes you happy (or i'll block you :0!)

"Proshipping is essentially the belief that problematic and taboo subjects should not be censored in media and that people should be able to enjoy whatever they want in fiction without being harassed over it. Being proship does not mean supporting every problematic trope or ship..."

by this definition of proshipping, i would be considered a proshipper, especially in terms about the harassment. if you enjoy taboo subjects like pedo*philia, in*cest, ra*pe, ra*ce play, etc. have fun BUT your ships are not welcome here if they fall in line with this. i will not harass you, i will not give you a speech. i will judge you in my head, but i will say nothing towards you. i will simply block you and move on with my day.

i will also not go through people's blogs to check that their ships fall in line with this from the get go. i'm 22 and a college student finishing my bachelor's degree, i don't have that kind of time anymore. if i do follow you and notice suspicious posts or you make suspicious remarks, i probably will look through your blog and make judgements.

please respect what i'm doing here. i have no interest in being part of this discourse. i spent the last 5+ years not really interacting with fandoms outside of reading my little fanfics, so the discourse is lost on me.

the obvious racism, misogyny and bigotry is not welcome here under absolutely no circumstance!!!

[bravelittlescrib]

Hey! Who are your ocs again?

Whew! I have quite a few, but I'll jot the main ones down. The tES ones, at least.

Nyx: My Hero of Daggerfall/Agent. She's a Dunmer who grew up as a street urchin in the Imperial City and became a thief (and later an assassin for the Dark Brotherhood), but she always wanted to be a ballet dancer. After the Dragon Break, she gets married to Llarys, my Dunmer spellsword Vestige, and they start a family together in Vvardenfell. Nyx and her kids die in the eruption of Red Mountain.

Llarys: a House Redoran Dunmer with a career as a gang enforcer, after becoming a Vestige, he experiences a religious revival and becomes a fanatically devoted ALMSIVI worshiper, and also devoted to turning his life around and becoming a beneficial member of society. He hates Mithra for killing Almalexia (and possibly Vivec), and also blames him for Nyx's death.

Mithra: My Nerevarine! He's an Altmer agent who ran away from his noble birthplace as a young man and turned to a life of crime. After being imprisoned for impersonating a government official, he gets sent to Morrowind. In summary, he ends up as a person of some importance in the Morag Tong, House Hlaalu, and even had a short career in the Tribunal Temple. He ends up together with my Dragonborn.

Sora: My Orsimer Hero of Kvatch. I don't want to reveal too much, because her story is being worked on presently, but she's very brawny, not very intelligent, and kind-hearted. A member of the Fighter's Guild and Champion of the Arena, she is incredibly in love with Martin, and his death causes her to go on a rampage that ends with her mantling Sheogorath.

Assabael "Patience" Urshammarnamus: Not actually my OC, actually she belongs to a friend, who made her for my tES D&D 5e campaign a while back, but I basically adopted her. She's an Ashlander with a tragic past who ended up working for the Blades, but got on their bad side after being assigned to work on a messy coup in Hammerfell. Her paranoia drives her to kill an innocent and encounter the Dark Brotherhood, which will also be part of my Oblivion WIP.

Gwenned Ghost-Singer: He's a Reachman that had to flee as a child from his home following the Markarth incident and returned to Skyrim to get his revenge on the Stormcloaks, only to find out along the way that he's the Dragonborn. He gets involved with the Thieves' Guild, and later the Forsworn, after finding out his older sister, Caoimhe, is alive. He has another sister named Saoirse who lives in Cyrodiil with her husband. Following the events of Skyrim and the Dragonborn DLC, he moves back to Markarth and gets named Jarl.

And since I'm working on some Dragon Age fic, I'll give them a mention too!

Hero of Ferelden: Rhodri Cousland. He is incredibly altruistic, and wants the best possible outcome even if it comes at a steep cost for him and those he loves (eg., making Alistair king and having him marry Anora). He romances Zevran.

Hawke: Callum Hawke, snarky mage extraordinaire. He's staunchly anti-Templar, but at the same time wants to put his family first. He romances Fenris, and they are basically Kirkwall's power couple.

Inquisitor: R'hiannon (or just Rhiannon) is a Dalish rogue. She has a hot temper and biases against humans (human mages, most of all), but her time with the Inquisition helps her get over them. Solas, specifically, helps her overcome her distrust of magic-- although when he requests to remove her vallaslin, she cuts off their relationship. She ends up with Cullen, who has been desperately in love with her since she first yelled in his face, and they get married happily ever after... for a little bit, at least.

[nerevar-quote-and-star]

I Didn't Know You Were Keeping Count - Part I: Rat

ao3

masterlist

Previous | Next

Thanks to @ravenmind2001 for proofing and helping me come up with the title!

Taglist:

@ravenmind2001 @incorrectskyrimquotes @uwuthrad @dark-brohood @owl-screeches @binaominagata @dakatmew @constantfyre

Content warnings: physical assault.

#######

“What do you mean you left the dossier?”

“I mean exactly that! Guards entered the solar while I was reading it.”

“You should’ve just grabbed it and ran.”

“I should have done what I did: slipped in and out without disturbing any of the dossiers, leaving the Thalmor blind to just what we were after.”

Delphine’s pale face pinched. Leara waited for her to press the issue; aggressive needling seemed to be this woman’s primary interrogation method, but to her relief, Delphine moved on. “So, what do we know?”

“He’s alive and the Thalmor think he’s somewhere in the Rift.”

A flicker of relief and anxiety played a tug-of-war with Delphine’s face. “If the Thalmor think he’s in the Rift, then he must be. Are you sure it didn’t say where specifically?”

Leara sighed, “I had to skim the last few paragraphs rather quickly or the guards would have found me.” Then, “I suppose you want me to cover the entire Rift for Esbern?”

The younger Blade shot her a look. “We need to find him. Even with your caution, the Thalmor have us at a disadvantage. If they decide to act on their information, we may be too late to get him out of there alive.” By ‘we’ she meant ‘you’, but Leara wasn’t going to complain about that. She remembered Delphine's bullheaded and know-it-all attitude from before the war when the Breton was only a Knight-Sister too small to fit her armor. Years of hiding and acute paranoia only served to erode her tolerability further. Not a charitable thought, Leara mused, but an accurate assessment. The Kynesgrove dragon was enough.

“I suppose I’ll be off then.” And Leara stood to leave.

Delphine stopped her. “Wait just a moment. You can’t do this by yourself.”

“Are you coming, then?” Leara asked, resigned.

Delphine shook her head. “I need to stay here. It’ll become too obvious if we keep leaving together. The Thalmor have eyes and ears everywhere. No, I want you to take Bishop.”

“Who?”

“Bishop. He’s a ranger who’s been hanging around the common room for a while now. Has a bit of a reputation. Brutally efficient from what I hear. But keep intelligence on a need-to-know. All he needs to know is what he’s tracking and where. Don’t mention the Blades or the Thalmor or anything that could send him running for the authorities.” A reputation for what? Leara wanted to ask, but Delphine waved her off. “You’d best get going. Remember, this is life or death. We’ve got to find Esbern before it’s too late!”

“Of course.” Leara lifted her satchel and sword belt from where Delphine had stored them. Strapping it to her waist, she nodded to Delphine. “I’ll find him.”

Delphine called out to her when she reached the stairs. Leara looked back. “And when you find him, just, ask him where he was on the 30th of Frostfall. He’ll know what it means.”

“I understand.” More than Delphine knew.

·•★•·

At first glance, the barroom was empty when she entered, save for Embry, deep in his cups, and Orgnar, who was wiping down the bar. A second glance and she saw him; in the far corner was a figure swathed in leather so dark it faded into the surrounding shadows where the hearth light didn’t reach. Leara slipped over.

“You’re a ranger, yes?”

The man looked up at her with a lazy tilt of his head, his pale eyes giving her a once-over. “Who’s asking?”

“I am.” Leara dropped a coin purse on the table. “I need someone to track down an individual for me.”

The man, Bishop as Delphine called him, didn’t even look at the coin purse. “Woah, hold your horses, lady! I never said you could hire me.”

Leara bit her tongue behind her smile. “I’m sorry, you are Bishop?”

“Last time I checked,” Bishop huffed.

“Listen, I need help tracking an older gentleman in the Rift. He’s lost and it’s time for him to come home.”

“That kind of sap could choke a spriggan,” Bishop said, rolling his eyes. “The Rift, you say? I might just take you up on your offer – if you do me a favor.”

Leara cocked her hip to the side and her head to the other. “What kind of ’favor’ are we talking about?”

Bishop barked a laugh. “Don’t flatter yourself! Besides, you’re not my type. I need some help retrieving something of mine.”

Did he just insinuate that she thought he wanted her to–? Never mind. “Well, what is it?”

Bishop cleared his throat. “I was tracking my wolf, Karnwyr, around here. We were separated while hunting a week ago. I’ve been hearing rumors of bandits holding pit fights this side of Skyrim. He’s all I’ve got, and that’s the only lead, so I’m off to shut them down before something happens to him.

“Where is he?”

From his jacket, Bishop pulled a leather-bound roll. He pushed his empty tankard to the side and spread it out to reveal a map of Skyrim. He stabbed a finger at a dark pinprick just north of Shor’s Stone on the border between the Rift and its northern neighbor, Eastmarch. “Lost Knife Hideout’s my guess. He’s not a bad-looking wolf. Strong and ferocious. They want him for pit fights, maybe for breeding. Not that he’d complain about that part.”

Leara grimaced. There was something off about this man, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She did need help finding Esbern, though, and Delphine said this man was good, or at least good at tracking. Helping him find his wayward wolf might cost time, but it may cost her more to try and track down the loremaster on her own in a country she was still woefully unfamiliar with. “All right, I’ll help you find your dog.”

Bishop rolled his map and stood in one swift notion. Leara was a little dismayed to find he was taller than her. As an Altmer with mixed Breton ancestry, she was still eye to eye with many of the Nord men she encountered. Bishop was at least half a head taller than her, practically as tall as a frost troll. He had the shoulders of one, too. “Great, we set out now!”

“Now?” Leara took a step back from the suddenly too-small corner.

“Yeah now. Time’s a-wastin’, your ladyship.”

Leara took one glance back at the barroom. Embry was passed out on a table and Orgnar was gone. But there Delphine stood behind the counter, a reassuring smile pinching her pale face. It almost looked sincere. Suppressing a sigh, Leara adjusted her satchel and followed Bishop out into the dark spring night.

·•★•·

When Leara ascended High Hrothgar to answer the summons of the Greybeards, it was late winter, and ice still covered over two-thirds of the Seven Thousand Steps. That trip took her three weeks from Whiterun, given the poor weather conditions and her unfamiliarity with the territory. Her descent was quicker; the snows were melting by the time she hit ground again in Ivarstead and set off for Ustengrav. That was late First Seed. It was now Second Seed, and southern Skyrim was bathed in sun and temperate warmth.

Bishop had her at Lost Knife Hideout in four days.

Four, because apparently, she shook her hips while walking and that “slowed them down”, or something.

Ignoring Bishop was becoming second nature, by this point. She’d ignore him entirely by just walking away, but she agreed to help him get his wolf back and wouldn’t go back on her word. And she still needed his help to find Esbern. From what she’d seen in their cut through the Jeralls, Bishop knew the wilds of Skyrim like the back of his hand. Delphine wasn’t kidding about his reputation as a tracker, at least. As much as Leara loathed to admit it, her lack of knowledge would be Esbern’s doom, and she needed all the help she could get. Bishop was necessary.

They found the wolf in the pit, stuck in a cage neighboring a sabercat on one side and a pair of rabid, screeching skeevers on the other. The ringleader of the pit was going nuts, calling for anyone and everyone in his gang to come down and fight him. Leara shook her head with pity before sending an icy spear spiraling into the bandit’s chest. The sharp shhtk of ice and iron trilled in the air. The caged animals whined. Beside her, Bishop whistled. “I’m impressed! I didn’t think a woman like you had it in ya!”

Leara snorted as Bishop sauntered his way past the cages of snarling, biting predators to his wolf. “There you are, you mangy mutt! The Hell were you thinking, getting trapped and making me track you all the way to this gods’ forsaken place?” Karnwyr laid down, his paws cast woefully over his muzzle. Leara only just restrained a snort. “There, there. I say we play a little game for old times’ sake. I shoot an arrow into one of these bandit bastards’ knees, and you can go rip his face off!”

Karnwyr woofed in clear excitement, bounding out of the cage. Leara, from her place at the control lever, cleared her throat. “You’ll have to play your little game somewhere else.”

Bishop didn’t look up from where he was scratching Karnwyr’s ears. “What?”

“We’ve already killed everyone here,” Leara clarified. He was just too busy calling her a swamp boar to notice the half-frozen corpses oozing congealed blood as she – they fought their way through.

“Ri-ight.” Bishop got to his feet, his wolf beside him. He reminded her of Ralof’s nephew and his dog as they stomped around Riverwood, brandying words at travelers and bossing the blacksmith’s daughter around. She also recalled the girl giving him a good wallop more than once.

Silence, save for the still-caged animals. Neither the Dragonborn nor the ranger moved to free them. “Well, I guess that’s it then, your, ladyship,” Bishop said at length as Leara perused a chest full of broken iron and steel bracers.

She looked over at him. “You’re still helping me track my friend down, yeah?” He’d better . . .

“Don’t worry, sweetness. I’m not going to leave you high and dry after you helped me. Even a wolf knows loyalty,” he smirked. Leara didn’t twitch. She didn’t. “Who knows what kind of trouble we can find ourselves in along the way.”

“Yes, well, I’m sure trouble will find us soon enough,” Leara mused, her mind going to the Thalmor. Elenwen shouldn’t have recognized her, no one should’ve, and yet . . . Something about the entire incident at the Embassy was still biting at her, and it wasn’t just the race to find Esbern. She was missing something, something important . . .

“Hm, I’m looking forward to that.”

Funny, because she wasn’t.

·•★•·

“First place we should go is Riften, the spring from which all things rotten flow. If your old man is in the Rift, someone there will know about it. Several someones, if we’re lucky.”

“Hm,” came Leara’s answer.

Karnwyr pressed his nose into the palm of her glove. Smiling softly, she patted his head. Even if Bishop was, well, odd, at least his wolf was nice. Her hand fell as they approached the gate. A guard stepped into their path before they reached it, the eye slits of his helmet dark and foreboding. Leara almost rolled her eyes.

He held his hand out, and the two travelers halted. “Hold there. Before I let you into Riften, you need to pay the visitor's tax.”

Leara clasped her hands together. “Right, and what's the tax for?”

“For the privilege of entering the city,” the guard replied. “What does it matter?”

“It matters,” Bishop began, “because you’re just another pig who thinks he can extort a pretty face for a few coins.” Before Leara could speak, he was in the guard’s face. From the corner of her eye, she could see other guards nearby reach for their swords. They didn’t draw, but Bishop was clearly pushing them to that point. “Or maybe,” the ranger went on, heedless, “you think you can get her into your bed, have her open her—”

“Quiet, you!”

“Why you—"

“Bishop, stop!”

The guard had his sword out, the others were getting dangerously close with their own drawn weapons, and Bishop was looking at her in rebuke. By Akatosh, what a mess! She yanked Bishop’s arm back, throwing him off balance and putting herself between him and the cluster of guards now standing between them and the gates, all with drawn swords. If she could see through their helmets, she imagined they’d all look as happy as a minotaur, too. She repressed the urge to pinch her nose. “I’m sorry, guardsman. He’s not used to civilized customs.”

“Hey – oww!” Leara stamped on his foot.

Another of the guards appeared beside the first. “Say what you will. No one’s getting in without paying the tax, and after that little display, we’ve half a mind not to let him in at all.” All the guards nodded in unison. Drones, the lot of them.

“I’ll pay twice the amount,” Leara said evenly.

The guards all looked at each other. The first one shrugged, the second nodded, and the third held out his hand for her coin purse. “Two hundred septims, no less, though more is always appreciated.”

Bishop was growling like a dremora behind her, but Leara silently handed over her coin purse. There were some odd two hundred coins in it, which wasn’t easy to pool together, but the loss was worth getting through the absolute disaster that entering the sewage drain of Skyrim had become. The third guard took it in hand, weighing it thoughtfully before nodding. The first produced a key and with purposefully slow steps, escorted Leara and the seething mass of leather that was Bishop to the gate. He took his time unlocking it; Leara could feel Bishop boiling behind her, ready to shoot off again, consequences be damned.

She’d never tasted Black-Briar Mead, but if she were on any other mission, tonight would be a great chance to go swimming in it.

“Thank you,” she smiled demurely to the guard as they passed into the city.

“I’ve got my eye on you,” was the hard reply.

(*)(*)(*)

The golden smile on Leara’s face wavered once they were clear of the gate and its guards. It slipped away entirely when Bishop dragged her into an alley and thrust her against a wall. Wooden planks dug awkwardly into the backplate of her silver armor, but she remained still. She inhaled, the beginnings of Unrelenting Force stirring into a gale in her mouth when his hand pressed into her windpipe.

No.

“Don’t you ever do that again!” he hissed, looming over her face. “Do you not understand what corrupt guards like that do to beautiful women like you? They’ll use you once and then expect favors any time you come through town!”

“Get – off – me . . .”

“Stupid woman,” Bishop growled. Nonetheless, he backed off her.

Leara gasped, her knees threatening to buckle as she took in air. “I can’t believe you’d just let them hustle you liked that!” he growled.

Leara coughed. By Akatosh. “Hustle me? They didn’t hustle me! I bribed them to keep them from turning you into a pincushion!”

“Oh, was that what that was?” Bishop lifted a skeptical eyebrow. “Next time, sweetness, let me handle the guards.” With that, he turned and walked away toward the other end of the alleyway. Without missing a beat, he called back over his shoulder, “Next time you want to play rough, try and give a man a warning, all right? I want an equal share of the fun, after all.”

(*)(*)(*)

Leara gaped after him as the Nord disappeared around the corner. Beside her, Karnwyr whined, clearly agitated with everything that just happened. “Yeah, me too, boy, me too.”

She found Bishop at a railing, eyeing the market square with cutting scrutiny. She hung back as he watches a redheaded Nord pitch a scheme about ‘Falmer’s Blood Elixir’ or something. It sounded like a scam, but that was none of Leara’s business. She skirted around the canal, just out of Bishop’s periphery. She was unready to rejoin him after that aggressive display. Did Delphine know he acted like that? Talked like that? That was the kind of behavior she knew the younger Blade wouldn’t put up with, but it still made her wonder just why Delphine thought Leara needed help. This was one more item on a growing list that screamed of Delphine doubting her ability. With few friends in Skyrim and fewer answers to the ongoing dragon crisis, Leara didn’t come to that decision lightly. No, it pressed down on her like a millstone.

The streets of Riften were a winding mess of wooden buildings and stone fences crushed together between canals that wound like ribbons through the city. Moments after slipping down a side street, the market disappeared from sight, and the pressing presence of Bishop lifted from her skin. She hadn’t felt so scrutinized since the war. Something about this was different from the smoke and mirrors espionage she was forced to engage in back then, but that didn’t make it any less troubling.

The sooner she found Esbern, the sooner she could part paths with the ranger and get on with this saving the world business.

She rounded another corner and jogged down the empty street by a few quiet residences. The bustling noise of the market hummed in the distance, not quite drowning out the slurring whisper of the canal ways as they flowed into the lake. It reminded her of Bravil, if a bit less muddy and haphazard. At the next corner, the cobblestone street split back toward the docks, so Leara took the other direction. It was just as vacant as the previous one. Where was everyone?

“All right, traveler! Give me all your money!”

Leara spun on her heel, her hand wrapping around the hilt of her katana. Off to the side, in an alcove made between a garden wall and the next building over stood a scrawny youth in scruffy leathers. Dark hair fell into his face, only to be pushed back by a shaking hand. Though she hadn’t drawn her weapon, the boy looked ready to pass out at the mere sight of her. Beside her, Karnwyr growled, his hair standing on end.

“Oh no, no, no!” he mumbled, distraught, “Why did it have to be you?”

“Pardon? What are you talking about?” By the look of this kid, he was either off his medication or on skooma. Probably both.

“Why did it have to be you?” he carried on. The boy stepped toward her – and Leara stepped back, the hand on her hilt tightening. Still, she didn’t draw. This screamed of desperation and hero worship. He stood in the middle of the street, his hands clasped, beseeching. “The only goddess every bard in Skyrim should be singing about?”

By the Nine, was he serious?

Discomfort and resignation settled over her shoulders with growing familiarity. Leara grimaced. “Stop, now.”

He ignored her. “Oh, it hurts my heart so! I must ask for all the gold that you are carrying on your very beautiful—”

In a whirl of silver and red, Leara pinned the would-be thief on the ground, her knee and boot centered on his chest and stomach. Her katana remained sheathed, but she didn’t need it to keep him in check. The boy looked up at her in absolute terror, his throat bobbing like the beating heart of a rabbit. “Listen,” she hissed, and the boy’s watery eyes darted from a snarling Karnwyr to focus on her face. “I’m in town looking for information and you’ve just volunteered yourself as my little guide. Congratulations! If you cooperate, there may be something material in store for you at the end. If you don’t, well, I know how to dispose of trash. Do you understand?”

Frantic nodding.

“What’s your name?”

“R-Raven!”

“Nice to meet you, Raven!” Leara stood and hauled the boy to his feet. She pointedly did not address the wet spot expanding across the front of his trousers. She did not want to know. Ever. “Now come on,” she said, wrapping her hand around Raven’s bicep. “I need to find someone, and you look like you’re the one who has all the answers!”

Raven colored darkly. “I, I do?”

“Of course!” Leara laughed, light and warm. “After all, you know who I am, and I’ve never even been to this part of Skyrim before!”

Raven quickly regained his footing, physical and verbal. “Of course I do! How could I not?” If she wasn’t hauling him by the arm, it might have appeared as if they were two friends out for an afternoon walk with their dog. But this wasn’t anything so benign. “The legend of your beauty has spread across all of Skyrim! Every voice sings your praises, waiting for the day they meet you!”

“Yes, quite,” Leara nodded, her insides cringing. That’s just what she needed. A rabble of Raven-like fanatics waiting for her everywhere she goes. “But let’s keep my presence here our special secret. Can we do that, Raven?” His mouth wagged open. Leara pressed on: “Now this is important! If someone were to go into hiding, who here would know how to find them?”

“The bartender at The Ragged Flagon,” Raven said, now uncaring that she was manhandling him hostage. She had the unfortunate suspicion that he was into it.

“Can you escort me there?”

“Yes, yes, I can, my, uh, Dragonborn,” Raven stuttered.

Following his pointed directions, Leara and Raven wound their way to one of the canals which flowed by what she assumed was the jarl’s keep. A set of rickety stairs jutted out past the railing. They were on the second step down to the lower level when Bishop appeared, hair ruffled and mouth downturned. “What’s this, ladyship? Getting down and dirty with the sewer rats now?”

Beside her, Raven blushed, this time from embarrassment. Nonplussed, Leara just scoffed. “I’m doing your job: finding the answers to my questions. Raven here has been lovely enough to help.” Unlike you, but she refrained from adding that. Only just.

Bishop’s pale green eyes fell on Raven. “Raven, huh? Bit scrawny for your tastes, eh, darling?”

“My tastes bear little weight on the matter,” was Leara’s terse reply. “Now if you’re still coming, we’re heading down to – where are we going again?”

“The Ratway!” Raven perked up.

“Yes, thank you,” Leara nodded. “Now, Bishop, as I was saying—”

“Hold up!” the ranger cut in. “Are you serious? I’ve taken good care of you for days now, but at the first sign of trouble, you turn to this street rat? That’s low, sweetness, especially for someone so high and mighty as you! I have half a mind to leave you here and strike back out on my own.” He looked like he meant it, too, but that didn’t phase Leara.

“You’re welcome to do what you wish,” she told him flatly. “I hired you to help me find someone. You’ve brought me to Riften, and I’ve found someone who can help me in the next stage of my mission. Your work is down, Ranger. Return to your wilds.” Raven squirmed beside her. Leara ignored him. Years of solo operations, and this is what she was reduced to! She proceeded down the steps, Karnwyr at her heels.

“Now wait just a minute! Dragonborn or not, we’re in a little too deep together for you to just get rid of me like that!” With that, Bishop swung over the railing. Leara and Raven kept walking. He followed them down to the lower walkway. “In the last week, I’ve saved your hide more times than I can count! I’m not about to let you waltz into the damn Ratway on a haunch with this skeever-faced prick breathing down your neck!”

Silence. Leara’s jaw tightened as a nervous Raven stumbled across a plank bridge to another walkway. He would have fallen into the canal if not for her tight hold on him.

It was in a huff of agitation that the small party entered a little side door in the stone-lined canal wall. It was set further back in the stone than many of the other doors they passed, hidden behind a stack of barrels and a barred door that swung silently inward once pushed. The wooden door did the same. Beyond it yawned a dark hole, silent save for the distant drip drop of water and the faint scurrying of little claws. This was the gateway to the city under the city, and though no guard held the gate, there was a sense that entering would exact a heavier price than the tax the Riften guards extorted from travelers.

Bishop’s hand caressed her shoulder. “You don’t have to go in there.”

“Yes, I do,” Leara said, and she plunged into the dark, slipping from Bishop’s hold while dragging Raven behind her. She pulled the young thief to her side. “Now, where is this ‘Ragged Flagon’?”

“This way,” Raven pointed, subdued. Whatever creepy act he was putting on before, Bishop seemed to have scared it out of him. She could thank him for that, at least. Or would if he’d stop yelling at her.

Sneaking through the dark in a group was a new challenge in itself. Leara hadn’t done anything quite like it since she fled through the Skingrad catacombs, but this wasn’t nearly as dangerous. It was thunderously quiet; save for Raven’s whispered directions whenever they reached a turn or came across a room with too many offshoots to count, the only sounds were those of the ever-present water and the denizens of the dark maze. Bishop remained blissfully quiet, which Leara was thankful for. She didn’t need another swamp boar comment.

It was forever later, not long after their descent into the tunnels, that they reached a door illuminated by lanterns and a curious mark scratched deep and bold against the faded stone. Leara gave it a passing look as Raven led them through this new door into a well-lit, cavernous room. Across a great cistern of water was a floating barge anchored to a stone alcove lined with crates and tables. At the back was a bar, behind which a man stood serving various people in worn leather armor not dissimilar to the set Raven wore.

“The Thieves Guild. So, this is where you lot scurry off to,” Bishop said.

Thieves Guild. Of course. “The bartender, you said?”

“Oh, yes, Dragonborn!” Raven said, all superfluous prose gone. Though she wasn’t a fan of his methods, Bishop at least served as a good fanatic repellent. “Vekel the Man is just the man for your, ha, task.”

“Lovely.” Releasing his arm, Leara made her way along the cistern’s perimeter, flexing her fingers.

“Fair lady,” Raven called out after her. “What about my gold?”

“You already have it,” she shot over her shoulder. “You took a coin purse from my belt while this one and I were arguing.” Bishop roared with laughter as the thief spluttered behind them, and Leara herself couldn’t help the giggle that escaped.

As they neared the bar, she couldn’t help but notice the gaunt faces contorted by the flickering candlelight that watched her as she and her companion passed by. Karnwyr bumped his head into her leg, his tail down between his legs. The atmosphere here was just what she’d expect from a bar of thieves: cold and distrustful. She didn’t blame them, though. Even in a city as corrupt as Riften was said to be, crime didn’t pay, not really. These people were miserable. Miserable and so very useful.

“Excuse me?” she called, stepping up to the bar. From the corner of her eye, a burly man absolutely covered in blond hair got to his feet. She could feel Bishop tense behind her when the bouncer took a heavy step forward. “I’d like two ales and a word, thanks.” She said, coming to the counter.

The bartender gave her a dark look over the tankard he was cleaning; nonetheless, he pulled two dusty bottles of ale from under the bar and slid them over once Leara passed the requisite number of coins his way. At the rate she was losing money, she was going to have to get a regular-paying job. Being the Dragonborn wasn’t as lucrative as it once was when being Dragonborn was synonymous with titles such as ‘emperor’.

“There’s two things to do at the Flagon,” the bouncer said, coming up beside them. He was shorter than Bishop but no less dangerous, “Spend coin and then get out.”

“I would just like to ask a question,” Leara replied, turning an even, open gaze to Vekel, who looked, if possible, more distrustful than his bouncer.

“We don’t take too kindly to people poking their noses around down here,” he said. “Best take your drinks and get out before there’s trouble.”

“Listen, pal,” Bishop spoke over Leara’s attempt to persuade the barkeep. “This woman has come a long way to find her father. The only lead she’s got led her here. The least you can do is accept whatever she’s willing to give you and give her what she wants in return!”

“Listen, buddy,” growled the bouncer. “You have five seconds to get lost before. I toss you out on your head!”

Vekel waved the bouncer down, frowning as he studied Leara. “I don’t know about in prissy old Altmer skulking around, but there’ve been plenty others of your kind in here recently. I’m going to tell you same as I told all them: I don’t know who lives in the warrens, much less the rest of the Ratway. You want information, find it for yourself or get lost. I’m not getting involved.”

Others? The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood on in. the Thalmor were here, somewhere, and if they were openly showing themselves here and asking questions, then Esbern was a lot nearer than she originally thought. Which meant they were running out of time!

Unopened bottle of ale in hand, Leara shuffled back from the bar, colliding with Bishop, and pushing him away from the growling bouncer. The warrens. They needed to get to the warrens! But which way?

Around her, the gaggle of bottom feeders nursed at their own tables, save one dark-haired fellow. Something tugged at the back of Leara’s mind as she watched him exit the tavern toward the Ratway. Vekel’s gruff laugh caught her attention. “If you want to try your luck in the warrens, door’s back there. Watch yourself, you and your brooding boyfriend. Worse things than Dirge live down there.” The bouncer, Dirge, flashed a yellowed smile full of menace.

“Thank you,” Leara called over her shoulder as she hurried to the door, Bishop and Karnwyr on her heels. It was dusty, surrounded by cobwebs, and she wondered if it was the only way in or out of these warrens. If there was a way for them to slip by the Thalmor – or for the Thalmor to cut them off.

Everything depended on finding Esbern, and soon.

Dust motes stirred into the air, setting off a chorus of sneezes as the door shut ominously, sealing off any trailing lights from the tavern and shrouding them in the dark. Wiping her nose, Leara cast a dim magelight overhead. A ring of light revealed a dusty stone path, undisturbed save for the prominent trail left bare by many scurrying feet. Whether it was made by the inhabitants or from Thalmor agents, Leara wasn’t sure, but she didn’t want to stick around and find out.

“Come on,” she whispered over her shoulder, palm raised to maintain the light at low brightness. “We don’t have much time!”

“Who’re we looking for, anyway?” Bishop hissed back. “Not your old man, clearly.”

“No,” Leara said. “He’s a very dear friend of mine and he’s in very real danger if we don’t find him.”

“Sounds serious!” There was a note of amusement in Bishop’s voice. “Should I be jealous, darling?”

Jealous? No? Leara was quiet as she waved a rune of life detection over her eyes. All around her, thousands of pale pink pinpricks appeared in the dark: insects, spiders, and rats. A few skeevers. These were of little concern to her. It was the larger masses of violet smoke, pulsing with each individual heartbeat that drew her attention. Many were indistinguishable from each other, blurry and unfamiliar as a tree line on the horizon. Most of these were distant, either sealed behind doors or too far away to pose much concern—yet –but she studied each one, looking for a glimmer of familiarity in the swirling souls.

“And now she’s ignoring me! Typical.”

“Swamp boar,” Leara coughed.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, it’s just dusty down here.”

“Nothing a little natural air won’t clear up once we’re done putting out old flames, eh, sweetness?” She could almost hear him wagging his eyebrows. “I know of a few hiding spots in the Rift’s forests. There we can be alone with no distractions – and perhaps—”

“Shh, I smell something!” The hot etheric tang of electricity filled her nose. Her skin prickled in warning. “We’re not alone down here. I’m going to put out the light. I need you to trust me!”

Bishop scoffed. “Let me make this clear: I don’t trust anyone, not even the man pouring my drink.” Says the guy she found drinking his way through the Sleeping Giant’s ale stores. “The only two things I trust anymore are myself and my wolf, got it?”

“Yes, yes,” Leara hissed, dismissive. She grabbed his hand, the magelight winking out and leaving them in the pitch black. Karnwyr brushed against her leg, present and silent. At least someone understood her. Illusionary magic dripped in quiet waves from her fingers, muffling their steps – and Bishop’s mouth, though he probably wouldn’t notice. Mundanes. There didn’t seem to be an ounce of magical talent in him, which was for the best.

The moonstone ring on her hand burned cold, chilling her skin and pushing her magicka reserves beyond their natural limit. Engulfed in the dark and the specters of life in a smoky haze only she could see, Leara pulled the ranger behind her Karnwyr’s rosy form following close by, as she searched with methodic precision amongst the signs of life for one she knew.

The smell of lightning grew heavier.

The ring sent frostbite crawling up her hand.

She almost missed it – would have, if not for the reflection of a spiraling tower over crystal waters, a snowbank high against ancient stones, a hall full of tables occupied by brothers and sisters. She saw these things sung in the heartbeat of another life, recognizable as they lived in her own soul.

Clairvoyance was a tricky spell. Some claimed it blindly led them to destiny. Others dismissed its use entirely. Leara used it as a lasso, binding it to her goal and drawing herself toward it as a mountaineer pulls himself up a cliff face. The icy moonstone bit into her hand, a cold reminder of just how much magicka she was pouring out and of the limited ability of the ring to support her. Just a little more . . .

In a muffled bubble, she pulled Bishop deeper and deeper into the twisted labyrinth. If at any time he protested when she brought them to a sudden halt or made a hasty turn to avoid the other souls wandering in the dark, she didn’t hear it over the blanket of illusion. It was a cheap remedy; she knew that, and yet his inability to Not Talk was a serious liability.

The soul grew closer, less than a dozen yards away. Leara sacrificed life detection for a Nighteye spell that washed the lightless warrens in a green glow. Squinting, to keep her own magical glimmer as small as possible, Leara led the way up a set of stairs and across a stone archway that she’d have otherwise missed. She felt more than heard Bishop grunt as they made the ascent.

And then they were there, the tether of clairvoyance pulling her along a ledge before disappearing through a heavy metal door. It stood as an imposing barrier in a corner, easy to miss when traipsing blind through the warrens. The entrance to a bolt hole, and she knew who was inside.

Releasing the clairvoyance, she felt the muffle dissipate as well. Warmth began to seep back into her ring, thawing the frost just under her skin. Untaxed save for the Nighteye, it replenished her well without overdrawing. Leara stood trembling for a moment, then two, allowing her equilibrium to reorient itself.

“Hey, you all right? You’re trembling.” Concern failed to mask the obvious amusement in the ranger’s tone. “What were you even doing?” he added when she didn’t answer.

“I was blindly fumbling through the dark in a very dignified fashion, thank you,” she snapped, unwilling to explain the amount of magic she’d performed just to get them there without incident. Electricity still stung her nose.

“Fine, don’t tell me!” he said in a huff.

Leara rolled her eyes. She rapped a prim staccato of taps in a dizzying pattern. It thudded a deep, erratic beat reminiscent of children beating at drums.

Silence. Then— “Go away.”

“Esbern,” she called out. “Esbern, it’s me, it’s Elanor.”

He wasted no time in replying. “That’s impossible. Elanor was executed. The Thalmor found her – and if you know about her, then no doubt you're one of them. Leave me alone!”

Leara placed a palm on the door, restraining herself from pounding into it with a fist so cold it would shatter metal. To the side, Bishop was mouthing words like ‘Elanor’, ‘executed’, and ‘Thalmor’ like he was practicing for a spelling test. “Esbern,” she began again, soft but still loud enough to be heard through the heavy barrier. “It’s Elanor. I was there when they ordered the executions. If you remember the 30th of Frostfall, then the 7th of Frostfall haunts me every time I close my eyes. That was the day I was forced to watch all my brothers and sisters lose their lives to the Dominion.”

“It’s a trick.” She could hear the tears in his voice the same as she felt them welling in her eyes, clogging her throat.

“It’s not.”

“All this emotion is giving me a stomachache,” groused Bishop.

“Then stop eavesdropping and keep an eye out for the Thalmor!” bit Leara.

“I don’t know if your ladyship has noticed, but we’re standing in the dark.”

“Aren’t you a hunter? You have other senses attuned to tracking than just your eyes,” she snapped before turning back to the door. The ring and shudder of locks and bolts scraping against metal were her only warning before the door slowly swung open. A thin candle hovered before a gaunt old face, lined with more than just the long years since the war and the fall of their order. “Esbern.”

“It’s you,” he whispered. “Elanor, you’re alive! How can this be? But, no, come inside, come inside.” The candlelight and its ghost drew back into the hole. Leara followed, whispering for Bishop to keep a watch at the door. He rolled his eyes but stood at the post. The Nighteye fizzled out as she entered the room, Karnwyr following.

It was sparsely decorated, but much cleaner than she imagined many of the other holes in the Ratway were. A table and chair, both stacked with books, and a broken cupboard took up one end of the room while a thin bed and padlocked chest occupied the other. Candle stubs her dotted around the room, creating a dim and dismal atmosphere. The mood was reflective of her own.

“Now,” Esbern was saying. “You had best tell me how you survived the massacre in Summerset when every other Blades agent was found and killed. How did you do it?”

“I was a shadow,” she began, mind suddenly distant, lost to the past. The burn of a different ring and the sticky guise of Alteration magic clung to her skin. In those days, she didn’t know the woman she saw in the mirror. Neither did the Dominion. “The Grandmaster sent me to infiltrate the Dominion. By the time I was in a high enough position to know what was going on, it was too late to try and warn anyone without revealing myself.” Sometimes, usually at night, she still doubted that she did the right thing.

Esbern’s face was drawn, deep in thought. “As relieved as I am to know you’re alive,” he began. She could hear the ‘but’ coming. “Why did you search for me?” There it was. “The Thalmor have been seen in the Ratway. It was only a matter of time before they found me, and now when they come, they will find you as well.” He shuffled over to his stack of books, lifting one and studying its cover. “It’s all hopeless.”

“Hopeless?” Leara echoed. “How can you say that?”

“Haven't you figured it out yet? What more needs to happen before you all wake-up and see what's going on?” Esbern shook his book at her, his eyes were bloodshot. Karnwyr whined. “Alduin has returned, just like the prophecy said! The Dragon from the dawn of time, who devours the souls of the dead! No one can escape his hunger, here or in the afterlife! Alduin will devour all things and the world will end. Nothing can stop him!” He deflated then, small and wraithlike in the dark. Leara’s heart ached. “I tried to tell them. They wouldn't listen. Fools. It's all come true . . . all I could do was watch our doom approach . . .”

The weight of the world settled across Leara’s shoulders. Esbern was wrong. There was one thing that could stand between mankind and the end of the world.

Her.

"Oh, yes. It's all been foretold,” the old chronicler nodded, catching sight of her drawn face. “The end has begun. Alduin has returned.”

Akatosh help her. “The only thing that stands between him and the world is the Dragonborn,” she said. Karnwyr pushed into her hand, shifting so it fell on his head.

“Yes, but no Dragonborn has been known for centuries,” Esbern said. “All the Blades’ waiting and watching, and it was in vain. No Dragonborn has come.” He sighed, “It seems the gods have grown tired of us. They've left us to our fate, as the plaything of Alduin the World-Eater.”

“They haven’t,” Leara spoke up. She squared her shoulders, internal crisis packed away to be dealt with later. “Esbern, it’s me. I’m the Dragonborn. By the grace of Akatosh, I’m here.”

A mix of emotions spun across Esbern’s face: shock, disbelief, realization, relief, and last of all hope. Hope settled on his face as the old Blade took her hand, his worn hand eclipsing her small golden one. “What? You're . . . can it really be true? Dragonborn? Then . . . then there is hope! The gods have not abandoned us! We must, we must . . .we must go, quickly now!”

Leara and Esbern made quick work of gathering his books and papers together. Over the years, the chronicler collected a wealth of knowledge on the Alduin, the dragons, and the prophecy of the Last Dragonborn. The thought of the Last burned in Leara’s heart. All those years the Blades spent waiting for a new Dragonborn after the death of the last Septim emperor, and for decades, the one they searched for had been one of their order. The irony was not lost on her as she shouldered one of Esbern’s bookbags, laden down with books about her processors, stretching back to St. Alessia and her covenant with Akatosh.

“Hey, ladyship? Something’s out there, and I don’t think it’s one of those vagrants we slipped by earlier.”

They were out of time.

“Do you know another way out of here?” she asked.

Esbern nodded. “Yes, come. We should proceed cautiously.”

Back into the dark, across the ledge, over the arch, and down the stairs. The electricity in the air sent every fiber of Leara’s being on edge. Not even in the embassy had it been this rampant. She hadn’t felt this much electricity since the war.

Crack! A brilliant sliver of light shot through the air. Leara pushed forward with Esbern, and the bolt collided with the wall. Sparks ricocheted, snapping on her armor. Esbern cried out. Karnwyr howled. Bishop cursed.

“There’s the Blades agent! Kill her!”

“Run!”

Temperatures plummeted as the air was shot with electricity. Leara ran, keeping pace with Esbern to help the old man through the twisting tunnels. She could hear the twang of Bishop’s bowstring and Karnwyr snarling.

“I’m getting too old for this!” Esbern moaned.

“Where’s the exit?” Leara asked.

A glowing compass rose appeared on the back of Esbern’s hand, and he pointed in a direction away from the path back to the thieves’ bar.

“I’ll see you burn!”

“Oh, for the love of—” Leara spun around, frost gathered in her hands. A wizard was hot on her heels, having slipped by the rearguard held by Bishop and Karnwyr. Ice and fire met in a crashing song and the air filled with the snap-hiss of steam. Out of the mist, a lumbering form lurched into being. A frost atronach! It swung toward the wizard, and Leara took that chance to rejoin Esbern, his hand raised from conjuring the Daedra. He led her to a sewer drain deep in the wall. It wasn’t very big. There was enough room for them to crawl through to the other side.

“Through here,” Esbern said, tugging at the grate. It swung out on a hinge. “There’s a ladder that leads up a hovel called beggar’s row.”

“Can you make it?” Leara asked.

Esbern wavered for a moment, then nodded. “Come after me,” he told her. “Wait for me to get up the ladder before you crawl through. It’s a tight fit.”

Esbern crawled through the drain. Leara looked back over her shoulder, the distant sounds of fighting echoing back through the tunnels. She could still hear Karnwyr, and her heart went out to the wolf. He was sweet. She didn’t want to leave him down here.

She stood to go back for him.

“Where is the Blades agent?”

“She’s mine!”

She’s mine. She’s mine. She’s mine. It resonated off the stones, bouncing back and forth between the walls. It bit at her heels.

Leara shot through the drain, pulling it closed behind her before scrambling up the ladder after Esbern, who she was surprised to see was already a decent way up the passage.

“I’m right behind you!” she called.

She saw Esbern acknowledge her. “What about your friend? The hunter?”

“He can take care of himself.”

She hoped the Thalmor took care of him.

[mysteriouspenguin29]

if you don’t shut up i’ll fucking bash you to death with my lute

the basic skyrim romance experience with rose, she the daughter of the mad god has the blood of aktosh, and the listener, yet bishop here think she some delicate flower to be protected

i like drawing these two for some reason maybe cause  i hate bishop so much, when i first download him never again.if you can’t read it it says

bishop; i sacrifice so much for you wench, can’t you see  how  not having sex with me effect me? ugh I’m such a  misunderstood person

Rose; fuck you, don’t make  me fus you’re ass, my mom is the mad god she whip you’re ass

[dragonbornbackyard]

Grey Mane 5

＊

當晚接近午夜，西多緹回來了，走進屋子的時候踢到鍋子跟大蒜，咒罵了一句，把他從睡夢中驚醒。

他趕忙從床上爬起迎上前去。他有點驚訝地問她怎麼摸黑出城，為何不等到天亮。

「事情辦完了不需要多留。」她對他露出疲憊的笑容，「這是你母親給你的東西，要收好。」她把灰鬃太太的回信交給他，裡面包了戒指和項鍊，還有一袋金幣。

就著爐火低下去的微光讀完母親的信，他禁不住激動哽咽。她拍拍他的手，表示安慰，「快睡吧，明天一早我們走。」

他乖順地躺回床上，背對著她，讓她在床邊黑暗狹小的空間裡卸下背包、盥洗更衣。背後傳來一陣窸窣聲，一股溫暖靠近，是她鑽到床的另一半，拉起毯子躺好，兩人之間小心的保持了幾公分的距離。

黑暗中他感覺得到她沒有睡著。他猶豫了好一會兒，輕聲開口說道：「今天有個人跑來找你，我把他打跑了。」

「喔？」她明顯僵硬起來。

「我猜他是不是你說的那個人。他叫你貴婦跟小公主。他真的…很討人厭。」

「喔？」她這次的反應是驚訝。

「不過他的確是個帥哥。」他苦笑，不懂自己何必加上這一句。

「嗯。」他感覺她在笑。

「他這麼帥，應該有很多女人願意倒貼他吧？為什麼纏著你不放？」

話一出口他就後悔了。他聽見她深呼吸，安靜地說道：「世界上總是有些男人眼睛比較瞎。對吧？」

「我不是這個意思，我…」他不知道該如何辯解，「對不起。」

「何必對不起？你說的都是實話。」她翻了個身，背對著他，「快睡吧，再講下去天都要亮了。」

第二天一早，他醒來時發現西多緹已經準備了早飯，前一天因為打鬥而掉得到處都是的雜物也收拾好了。從她忙進忙出的姿態，他聞到一種氣味，知道關於「野獸」的事情，西多緹不會想再跟他多說一個字，他最好也不要多問。

相反地，她跟他道過早安後，竟然開口道歉：「我知道你不是那個意思，我有點過份，對不起。」

她坐在他對面，湯匙在麥粥裡攪來攪去：「雖然大部分男人都差不多，但是遷怒還是不對的。」

「那早知道我昨天應該多揍他幾下。」他憋了一陣，勉強回了一句。

「把那張帥臉打爛了多可惜。天際省的女人都會因此恨你的。」她被他逗笑。而他只能配合地乾笑一兩聲，「他叫畢夏普。對，他不是野獸。」

西多緹可能還想念著這個畢夏普，雖然他們分手了。他不認識這個人，只能猜說不定是因為畢夏普床上功夫好。想到這一點讓他渾身上下都不舒服。

「管他叫什麼，他再來騷擾你，我就再打他。」

「謝謝你，你真是忠實的好朋友。」她好像恢復愉快的心情，又變回那個親切的西多緹。「說到這個，可惜你不能進城。白漫母馬敕旗旅館有個女侍很漂亮，我覺得她一定是你的菜。」

「再說吧。你怎麼知道我的菜是什麼樣子？」

「不難歸納啊。你喜歡深色頭髮的女人，眉毛要細，胸部通常都很大，腿要長，走起路來會這樣擺，」她從桌前站起來，模仿那些女侍搖屁股的樣子，「而且她們會用這種眼光看你。」她朝他拋了一個媚眼，惟妙惟肖。

「她們連叫床的音調都很類似。」下一秒她馬上開始學起她們的聲音，「噢！噢！啊！深一點！用力一點！啊！啊！啊！我快到了！啊！」

他目瞪口呆又滿臉通紅，她還不放過他：「我說你好厲害啊，為什麼連叫床的聲音都可以選到差不多的類型呢？」

九神靈都被他當場詛咒了一遍。雖然他都有關門，但這女人竟然全都聽到了。是說，他本來也沒把她的在場當成一回事。他怎麼能這麼不小心。

「你的觀察力…很好。」他尷尬地吞下麥粥，兩人之間又恢復沈默，她總算饒了他。

「那你喜歡什麼型的男人？」他本想多少反擊一下，但發現自己氣勢微弱。

「我喜歡什麼型不重要。有人願意喜歡我就不錯了，」她楞了一下，隨後輕聲說道，口氣膽怯而哀傷，「當然不能是有毛病的那種。」

他不知道該說什麼好，只好繼續低頭喝粥，沒有回應她的話。

（待續）

[nerevar-quote-and-star]

Hey, so the first chapter of my anti Bishop fic is up here and over on ao3!

I'm legitimately disappointed by how little anti-B!shop content there is on Tumblr. I would kill for a fanfic where someone just KICKS his ass or puts him in his place 💀Even just memes suffice, but there needs to be an anti-B!shop tag at least lmao

HONESTLY like, fuck that guy. Not literally, because he doesn't deserve to ever have sex. But fuck that guy. I hope he gets run over by Cicero's cart and the Night mother's coffin falls on him and he like, lays in the road kinda bleeding out with his arms bent in the wrong direction like a fucked up neglected Barbie doll

[maraleestuff]

Writeblr (re)introduction

Hello! My name's Mara. I've been a part of writeblr on & off for the past few years, but I'd like to be more active with the community by dipping my toes back in, starting with a (hopefully) quick reintroduction post.

Edit: this has turned out a bit long, so I'll add a read more link after the "What I write".

About Me:

I'm 21 years old, bisexual, and my pronouns are she/her.

I'm from the Pacific NW of the US.

My ao3: Maralee.

Other than writing, I like playing video games, dabbling in landscape photography, crocheting, and spending a fair amount of time on tumblr.

I also have a site for my photography. If you'd like to browse or buy, check out my portfolio, or you can pop by my ko-fi.

I'm an Independent Consultant for Scentsy. My site is here, or you can click the link in my bio if you're interested. I'll occasionally post about current bundles/ specials, but it won't dominate my blog.

While I'm not currently in college, I wouldn't mind studying archaeology or anthropology; I love learning about ancient civilizations, and their cultures. It really gets you thinking about your life on earth, and what future historians might find.

Little bit of a disclaimer: while this blog started out as a writeblr, it's also a blog for various fandom-related posts, as well as writing resources and advice.

Open to tag and ask games!

What I Write:

My favorite genre, by far, is fantasy. Give me dragons, magic, elves, and epic battles—there's a good chance it'll be a favorite read. I also enjoy science fiction, romance, adventure, and mystery.

I tend to write what I read, so most of what I write is high fantasy or urban fantasy; though I do add elements from other genres, like romance, mystery, action, etc.

Common tropes I tend to lean toward: enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, mutual pining, coming of age. (Not necessarily in that order.)

I write both original fiction and fan fiction.

Current Works

Original:

The Guiding Star. Intergalactic mercenary Halley Gould is hired to protect the LSS, a lighthouse space station from pirates. Sci-fi short story. WIP page. Second Draft.

Descendant. Eirian, a mage in an anti-magic land, is framed for murder and must prove her innocence by rooting out a deep and far-reaching conspiracy. High fantasy short story. WIP page. First Draft.

Kosma. 19-year-old superpowered Evie Sharp discovers a company named Psibernetics is secretly developing weapons. Fantasy novel. WIP Page. First Draft.

Fanfiction:

A Healer's Lament. Alleilyn Willowwing fights against the forces of Molag Bal, making new friends and allies—and facing old foes. ESO fic. In est. 3rd draft, but you can read it on ao3. [wip page coming soon]

Forged in Fire. Artemis Oakenfire discovers she is the Last Dragonborn, but she has other foes to face—such as the assassins who killed her mother. Skyrim fic. Currently, in brainstorm << current details may be revised. [wip page coming soon].

[Untitled]. Imyili Ulvvas, an aspiring mage, plans to study at the College of Winterhold; unfortunately, with the return of dragons and a fool-hardy, adventure-hungry new friend, that will have to wait. Skyrim fic. Currently in brainstorming/ early concept stage. [wip page coming soon.]

I also have completed one-shots in different fandoms:

BBCs Merlin: To Fall, To Rise // By the Assassin's Blade // Of Servants and Secrets // All in a Day's Work

The Witcher (Netflix): The Only Exception

PJO: Encounter

On the Backburner:

WIPs/ works that aren't my current focus.

Descendant // Kosma // Forged in Fire // A Healer's Lament

Future Project Ideas:

One-shot and WIP concepts which are in consideration.

BBC Merlin: Where the Tides of Change Begin // Right Before Your Eyes // The Last Dragonlord

Smallville: Hits You Softly // Be My Memory // One of Them