#intya answers

[madam-whim]

for that character ask game: the gray prince, lucien lachance and baurus! :D

Why would you do this to me... why would you give me the tragic ones...

Gray Prince

First impression: I thought he was a bit ridiculous and didn't really fit in with everyone else in the arena, mostly due to the way he speaks and acts.

Impression now: God that poor guy... I really do feel for him. I cannot imagine the shock when he found out about his true heritage, and I can understand why it was all too much for him. After all, the general consensus is that all vampires are evil, and poor Agronak really doesn't have a way of knowing that's not the case. And I really don't think his mother made things better for him with how she must have told him half-truths about where he came from. I know she likely meant well, but in that particular case, it would probably have been better if she'd just made something up instead of giving her son these bits of information that of course he'd want to follow up on if given the chance.

Favorite moment: None, because the best ones are all tragic and I refuse to call them "favorites."

Story idea: The HoK going "fuck this, you don't need someone to kill you over this, you need friends" and supporting Agronak, and somehow this kickstarts a series of changes in the arena that results in people just... not getting killed as much anymore, where there are no more "criminals who are given a chance to earn their freedom", only professional fighters who fight to win, not to kill.

Unpopular opinion: Agronak's mother should either have told him the truth or nothing at all. She allowed him to build his life around a fantasy, and so she's partially to blame for what happened to him when it came crashing down.

Favorite relationship: The one that he could possibly have had with his father, who we know loved his baby and was excited to be a father.

Favorite headcanon: Agronak was the kid that got bullies to leave other kids alone. I can totally see him being that kind of person even at a very young age.

Lucien Lachance

First impression: *incoherent screeching because someone just You Sleep Rather Soundly For A Murderer'd me* Not gonna lie, he scared the shit out of me the first time around because I was not expecting him. It got better once I realized he was the alive version of my ghost buddy from Skyrim.

Impression now: I love, love, love that man. He's undoubtedly one of my favorite characters in the entire franchise, mostly because he is so dramatic, and he's utterly unapologetic about what he does. I may or may not have a mod that allows me to kill Arquen for what she did to him.

Favorite moment: I think that would be that one moment where he shows up after you just killed Ungolim and he realizes that both he and his Silencer have been played. He's usually so calm and confident about everything, and in that moment, he's just... not.

Story idea: This is a rather obvious one, but... the Silencer being a lot smarter than the game allows them to be and instantly noticing the different handwriting and strange wording of the first switched set of orders. Why would Lucien suddenly change his handwriting? Why would he suddenly give reasons for killing someone, when that's never been an issue before? Bonus points if the Silencer has also managed to keep the Shadowscales and Vicente alive and they team up to figure out who has it out for Lucien. But I haven't yet figured out a good enough reason to let them live.

Unpopular opinion: He's not this mysterious, silent and brooding man that some people see him as? He can play that part exceptionally well when it suits him, because he's a great actor, but it's not really him. The real Lucien can be pretty goofy and over the top and overly dramatic, and his family loves him for it.

Favorite relationship: Dad Lucien and his Shadowscale kids!

Favorite headcanon: Lucien shows his affection through keeping people on their toes, i.e. sneaking up on them and scaring and attacking them. He never does serious harm, of course, but he's serious enough about it that people fight back and defend themselves. The family eventually figures out why he does it - he wants them to live, and by making sure they can handle him when he's serious either by escaping or matching him in a fight, he ensures that they will live through pretty much any contract.

Baurus

First impression: Oh thank the Divines, a competent Blade!

Impression now: Still pretty much the same, only now I'm also aware of just how young he has to be when the crisis happens, and he still proves to be one of the bravest and smartest people around. Also, I think he played an important role in making sure neither Martin nor the HoK crumbled under the pressure of being just some random people suddenly burdened with having to save the world.

Favorite moment: I think my favorite Baurus moment is when he meets with the Mythic Dawn agents, and he walks into that meeting knowing that if anything goes wrong, or if the HoK's aim is just a little off, he's dead, and he still does his job perfectly. The amount of trust he places in the HoK is insane, especially because he knows they were in prison just a little while ago and could easily walk out on him or even turn on him.

Story idea: ... and this is where I currently can't come up with something :(

Unpopular opinion: I don't think I have any unpopular Baurus opinions. And why would I?

Favorite relationship: Baurus and Martin. Those two deserved more time together. It would have been a life-long friendship.

Favorite headcanon: He's a little bit of a matchmaker and definitely ships Martin and the HoK. Jena is his accomplice.

[madam-whim]

for your character meme: ildari sarothril, faralda, and elisif the fair! (you needn't do all three if you don't want!)

Ohhh nice choice of characters!

Ildari

First impression: I found her to be an annoyance and didn't have a solid opinion on her, but I did think she was taking things one step too far, and murdering innocent people because of her desire for revenge and for no really understandable reason made me dislike her.

Impression now: I've come to dislike Neloth a lot more over the years, and I feel like now, I can understand Ildari a little better. She trusted that man, and he didn't care what happened to her. If someone who I looked up to and who was supposed to teach me treated me as nothing more than an experiment, I would snap too.

Favorite moment: Sadly, I don't have one as she gets so little actual screen time.

Story idea: The Dragonborn, who is also mad at Neloth after being experimented on and experiencing severe side effects, teams up with Ildari to mess that old man up.

Unpopular opinion: idk if this counts as unpopular, but the player should have been given the option to actually talk to her instead of just being able to read some journals.

Favorite relationship: We don't know of any outside the one between her and Neloth so... I can't really answer this.

Favorite headcanon: I like to think that she idolized Neloth a great deal, and she was young and naive enough to believe that he cared about her, and that's what really makes her so angry - not that he got her "killed", but that he didn't care.

Faralda

First impression: Lady ffs it's cold out here and you expect me to summon an atronach here when I have about 120 points in magicka?! No, but for real... she seemed pretty high and mighty at first.

Impression now: Still a bit high and mighty, but her heart is in the right place.

Favorite moment: When she rushes to protect Winterhold after Ancano messed with the Eye without hesitation.

Story idea: Her finally getting fed up with Nirya's shenanigans and deciding to do something about it.

Unpopular opinion: I... really don't have one?

Favorite relationship: Faralda and Mirabelle.

Favorite headcanon: I firmly beliebe that she has a mischievous streak that she never allows herself to show. But she has probably pranked Ancano once or twice, only nobody ever found out it was her.

Elisif

First impression: Sweet, very young and naive, but I always saw her as brave.

Impression now: She cares deeply for her people, and she's got so much potential. It annoys me how much the people she relies on belittle her - Falk Firebeard most of all, although I suppose he kind of means well. How the hell is she meant to become High Queen when nobody believes she can actually do the job?

Favorite moment: The moment she trusts the player with the task of getting Torygg's war horn to a Talos shrine. She has to know she's taking a huge risk, and she's doing it anyway because she feels like it's what her husband would have wanted.

Idea for a story: I don't know how yet, but one day I want to write a story in which there's a scene where Ulfric Stormcloak thinks "Oh fuck, she's frighteningly competent now." I have no idea how to get there, but one day I will.

Unpopular opinion: She is a lot smarter than people give her credit for. Her ideas and her orders are not stupid, she simply doesn't have the knowledge she needs to make informed decisions because Falk and Tullius shelter her to the point where she has no idea what is going on in her own hold. And I hate that it appears like she's slowly losing confidence with every dismissed idea, with every time Falk talks over her.

Favorite relationship: Elisif and Sybille Stentor. I feel like Sybille's the only one in that court who doesn't actively look down on Elisif.

Favorite headcanon: Believe it or not, I currently can't think of one :(

[madam-whim]

First Seed and Last Seed for OC or OCs of your choice?

Thank you for asking! <3 Gonna go with my Dragonborn baby Rienn for this one!

First Seed - Does your OC have any enemies or rivals? How did these rivalries start?

Rienn tries to make as few enemies as possible, which isn't always easy in her position. That being said, other than Alduin, her worst enemies are the Thalmor. She didn't even do anything to piss them off other than the chaos she caused at Elenwen's party - Rienn doesn't even actively worship Talos. She just assumes that the Thalmor see her as a threat, given she's another human Dragonborn.

There are, however, two people she cannot be in the same room with without it causing issues. The first would be Jarl Siddgeir. He's just a slimy bastard who's realized that the Dragonborn is technically the rightful heir to the Imperial throne, and he'd certainly like to get close to her (ideally, he wants to marry her). Rienn is... not amused.

The second person she's got issues with is Ralof - he's her ex. Turns out that while he is a loyal friend, he's not a good partner for someone who wants to keep her identity a secret if at all possible. He nearly disclosed her identity to all of Windhelm, and after that, things ended badly.

Last Seed - What weapon does your OC use? Who taught them how to use it?

Rienn knew precisely nothing about weapons or fighting when she first came to Skyrim. She technically owned a dagger, but she would not have known how to really stab anyone. After Helgen, she ended up with the Companions, and since Kodlak saw something in her, she wound up staying with them for a while. Her idea was to help out Tilma and eventually take over when she got too old to work, but Kodlak insisted on her being trained as well.

Rienn is doesn't have a lot of natural talent when it comes to hitting people, but she's determined and patient and was able to become a fairly competent fighter.

She uses a sword and shield and was mostly taught by Farkas and Kodlak, practicing with Ria here and there.

As for the dagger, she still has that, and Vilkas did end up teaching her how to use that in case she ever lost her primary weapon. That was before she found out she was Dragonborn, of course, and being Dragonborn means you are literally never unarmed. But Rienn still prefers having that dagger.

[madam-whim]

hello! I just read your mini fic about Fenn, the Vestige, Lyris and Gabrielle trying to find more on the Ashen Lord and… you are such a talented writer! Would you consider writing more stories about Fenn and the Vestige? I would love to read more!

First of all, thank you so much!! I’m not used to literally getting ASKS about my writing so this is much appreciated!

As for more stories about Fenn and the Vestige... well, you can always send me prompts or send in asks when I reblog a prompt list! 

However, it’s kind of unlikely that I would write about a nameless Vestige with Fenn as a love interest without anyone asking me to do so, because a) I would usually write about my own Vestige, Izani, who may not be a vampire herself, but is one of Verandis’ adopted daughters and therefore Fenn’s sister, and b) “my” Fenn is ace, possibly aroace. 

That being said, I do write about other versions of him if someone throws asks/prompts at me! It might just take ages for me to actually do it because I work full time and gathering the energy to write isn’t easy!

[madam-whim]

Rienn and Vilkas with bear hugs from the intimacy prompts? 😳

I'm so sorry that it took me so long to write this, and it's still nowhere near as good as I would have liked, but here it is!! (I'd link the original prompt list but I can't seem to find it anymore either??) __________________

Rienn is shaking like a leaf by the time she manages to crawl into a small space between two rocks, where the stone and a bush that is more thorns than anything else provide at least some semblance of cover. Enough to hide her shape in the dark, at least, and perhaps it will offer some protection from the wind as well. She knows she’s not made to withstand the cold that Skyrim’s nights bring, not without the right clothing at least – she’s known this ever since the night Farkas found her shivering under the Gildergreen and dragged her back to Jorrvaskr despite her protests.

Right now though, she doesn’t have much of a choice. She cannot afford to be found, not after escaping from Cidhna mine with a group of Forsworn. There are so many reasons why she has to remain hidden for now, and then look for a way to get out of the city without being noticed. She can’t use the Thu’um like this, can’t risk revealing herself while she’s without her mask and wearing a prisoner’s clothes. And besides, her mind is still reeling from all that she’s learned while in that mine. It’ll take a while for her to come to terms with it, she thinks, and in the meantime, she doesn’t want to risk being pulled into another conflict that is not yet hers.

Maybe it was a mistake, slipping away from Madanach and his friends instead of following them out of the city. She would not be stuck at least. But then again, she has no guarantee that she would have been free to leave after getting out of Markarth. But if she is to seek out Madanach again, she wants it to be on her own terms – if she is truly of the Reach as he says, he will have to respect her wishes on that.

She loses track of time after a while, though she assumes that the sun won’t come up for some hours yet. It has started to rain at some point, and by now her clothes, already ragged to begin with, are soaked through. There still hasn’t been an opportunity to slip out of the city or at least back to the inn, the guards are too vigilant still, and for all Rienn knows, they might be looking for her as well – perhaps the surviving Silver-Blood brother’s already put a price on her head. For the time being, the glow of a torch means danger, and every time she sees it, she tries to press herself further back into the shadows, hoping it will be enough.

She counts the torches as a means to keep herself busy and awake – can’t afford to fall asleep, not now, no matter how tired she is. The guards always move in the same pattern, and soon their rounds become predictable. At least Rienn thinks that’s why, when someone deviates from the pattern, she notices it immediately. They come closer to her hiding place than all the other guards, and for a moment, fear settles like a horrible weight in her stomach – just until she realizes that these two are not guards at all, but her friends.

They look angry, Rienn realizes. They’re not close enough for her to see their faces, but she’s known the twins long enough to understand their body language. When Vilkas is angry, he carries himself like he’s about to strike at any moment, and right now, he looks downright dangerous. With Farkas, it’s harder to tell, but even he seems tense, his hands twitching as if he’s preparing to reach for his blade.

Rienn wonders if they are looking for her, but it doesn’t seem like it – instead, they are moving towards the mine at a brisk pace, though she has no idea what they would want there. Surely word has already spread to the inn. They must know that no prisoners remain inside Cidhna mine. Still, them being here might turn out to be her only chance to get back to them. She has no idea whether another opportunity like this might present itself anytime soon. She has to reach them, but there is also a guard approaching, and while he’d usually make a turn to the left and not even pass her, if she moved out of her hiding spot now, she’d be right in his field of vision. And if that man gets to her before she gets to her friends…

It’s a risk she has to take, and she cannot let herself think of the consequences. In her current attire, she’s easily recognized as a prisoner, and no matter how long she waits, she won’t get to safety without help. It has not be now. With that decision made, she forces herself to stand. Her movements are slower than she’s used to from the cold and from sitting in a crouched position for so long, and she’s got cuts on her feet that haven’t yet had time to heal, but she can’t allow herself to be held back by either of these things. She somehow manages to squeeze her way past the bush, thorns leaving scratches on her bare arms, and back onto the street. A quick glance confirms that the guard, quite possibly having noticed the movement, quickens his pace.

Rienn stops herself from cursing and starts to run.

It’s probably more of a hobble, really, and every step hurts and she knows she could easily trip and fall, but she has to make it, the twins have their backs turned to her now and she can’t let that guard catch up to her before the two Companions notice her. She could have yelled for them at any time, she knows, but that would have drawn more attention to both her and the twins, and even with all three of them, they can’t face the entire city guard, not without her voice. And so she forces herself to run until she’s close enough that they’ll hear her even when she isn’t yelling, and then -

“Vilkas!” She doesn’t know why she calls for him first, but he turns to face her immediately. The torch he’d been holding clatters to the ground, and she barely has the time to see the look on his face, pain and anger morphing into relief, before she’s in his arms. He nearly lifts her off her feet, and she can’t remember ever being held this tightly before. “Thank the Divines, you’re alive,” he mutters, and Rienn finds she can’t do anything but wrap her arms around him in turn. “We thought they’d killed you,” Vilkas continues, and he sounds so pained that it’s almost unsettling. “When you didn’t escape with the other prisoners, I thought, maybe...”

His voice is shaking, even his hands are trembling a little, and Rienn comes to the startling realization that she’s never seen him lose his composure quite like this. He is a far more emotional man than most people assume, but this, she isn’t used to. Then again, he was probably heading towards the mine to look for a body, and she doesn’t want to think about that. “I’m fine, I’m fine, just a little bruised,” she whispers back to him instead, hoping that it might calm him down.

The effect, however, is the exact opposite. His hold on her tightens even further, one hand resting on the back of her head, the other between her shoulder blades. “If those Forsworn harmed you in any way...” he begins to say. Rienn immediately shakes her head, even though he can only sense it as movement against his shoulder. “It wasn’t them,” she sighs, knowing there will be a lot to explain later on. “Please trust me on this. They didn't do anything, most of it’s from the escape, and it’s nothing that a healing potion won’t fix.”

Vilkas doesn’t answer, but keeps holding her as if she’d vanish the moment he let her go. He touches her like she’s fragile, precious. Runs his fingers through her hair as if to comfort her, though she’s not quite certain whether he’s doing it for her, or if it’s to convince himself that she’s really here. She’s too tired to ask him about it, and she doubts she’d ask even if she had the strength for it. She doesn’t think she has any right to ask, so she doesn’t, and simply enjoys being held.

Rienn is vaguely aware of Farkas cheerily telling the guard that it’s in his own best interest to walk awaynow– Farkas can be astoundingly intimidating if he wants to be – and then there’s a blanket being wrapped around her shoulders. She recognizes it as one of those they’ve brought from Whiterun; it smells like home.

“We should leave,” Farkas says after a moment, “Aela’s camp isn’t far from the city, and we don’t want any more guards asking questions.” “The gate guards will, anyway,” Rienn mumbles. “They better not, if they know what’s good for them,” Vilkas replies, then lets go only long enough to completely wrap her up in the blanket and pick her up again. “Wait… what about my things? My mask?” Rienn asks, her voice once again muffled as her head rests against Vilkas’ shoulder. He understands her anyway. “Already with Aela,” he reassures her. “It’s alright, you can rest. Don’t fall asleep though. Too cold for that still.”

Somehow, she finds enough strength for a small nod. It isn’t even really cold anymore, not with the blanket and Vilkas radiating warmth like he always does, but she can do this for him. Even after everything that’s happened between them, he’s always been there for her, and she vows to herself, not for the first time, that she’s always going to be there for him as well, no matter what. Divines, she loves this man… That thought should probably scare her more than it does, she thinks. Perhaps it will, later on. But for now, she allows herself to be carried to safety, knowing that Vilkas is watching over her.

[madam-whim]

38, 5, and 11, for an oc of your choosing!

These went incredibly well with my Welkynar squad, so I've picked them for this ask! Taeldil and Keldarin for 38, Yalie for 5 and Iriniel for 11.

38: Is your character more likely to remove a problem/threat, or remove themselves from a problem/threat?

Taeldil is the type who absolutely tackles problems head on. He mostly succeeds in removing them as well. This is in part due to his upbringing – as the son of an influential noble, he always had the means to solve any issue thrown his way, and he developed a certain attitude reflecting this. He was never a spoiled brat, but he had a lot of confidence in his ability to overcome any problem, no matter how big. This attitude carried over into his adult life. He still faces every problem with a grin on his face, though he’s had to adjust to being part of a close-knit group he can’t keep out of his problem-solving decisions. He can’t rush in as much as he used to – he still does it in battle though, because that’s his role in the group.

Keldarin on the other hand, who is used to Taeldil’s shenanigans, always has his back and is there to get him out when one of his plans (or spontaneous ideas) does fail. Out of all the Welkynar, he’s the most likely to work around or avoid a problem (in combat situations, this translates to him being the sneakiest of the bunch). Why face trouble when you can just… avoid it altogether? Keldarin doesn’t come from a wealthy family and he learned early on that sometimes, it can be more effective to avoid a problem, especially if you lack the means to overcome it directly.

He and Taeldil balance each other out, really.

5: On an average day, what can be found in your character’s pockets?

Yalie prefers tight clothing with not too many pockets, so space is very limited. However, she always carries emergency potions in a satchel on her belt – magicka for when she runs out, and healing for when Iriniel does. Her satchel also always contains some of her favorite tea – one perk of being half Altmer is that nobody really expects you to follow the Green Pact, and her tea’s from Elsweyr anyway, so it’s alright. She also always has some sweets with her, because sometimes one just needs a little bit of sugar to keep going. Also, everyone on her team has a sweet tooth, and she has to get them through the rough patches somehow. She knows everyone’s favorite sweets and always makes sure to bring them along.

11: In what situation was your character the most afraid they’ve ever been?

Iriniel isn’t easily scared. Sure, there are moments where she’s uncomfortable or thinks a situation is exceptionally dangerous, but the Welkynar – at least her team – never go into one of those without backup plans to their backup plans, and so moments that truly induce fear are few and far between. Iriniel is very sure of her skills as a healer and a fighter, as she should be, and she knows her team to be just as competent in their respective fields. However, her team being separated for some reason is insanely scary to her. So when the Thalmor imprisoned Keldarin and the remaining three Welkynar plus the four gryphons had to get him out, she was more frightened than she had thought possible. Even planning for a fight without Keldarin felt… wrong, and actually pulling it off without him was even worse. There was an essential piece of them missing, and though they executed their plan flawlessly, Iriniel’s heart was pounding the entire time. She’s been anxious ever since – she does not deal well with big changes and insecurities about the future either, and right now, neither she nor the other Welkynar have any idea what’s going to become of them. They are deserters and though they’ve managed to flee to Skyrim, they’re not quite safe yet.

[madam-whim]

I really like your "Meet the OC" post, you should totally make that like a thing or a prompt, I feel like the community would like it, I'd love it!

First of all, thank you so much! I’m glad you like it! These posts are really just a way for me to rant about my OCs in a way that’s a little more creative (and hopefully immersive). However, credit for the original idea goes to @rynkyus, they did it first! I’m simply using it with their permission, and I wouldn’t feel comfortable with turning it into a prompt or game or anything without asking them first - I can definitely do that though, because I agree, making these posts is fun and more people should do it! 

[madam-whim]

7 for helca :vibecheck:

“I promise”, the little boy said as he pulled his friend closer.

Ayrenn had run off once again, leaving her brother behind. “You are not even two years younger than she is. That is not much, and out of the two of you, you are the responsible one”,  was what one of their teachers had said. It’s your fault, you should have stopped her, was what Naemon had heard, and what the teacher had meant, disapproval clear on his face. As if it was Naemon’s responsibility to keep his sister in check. As if he hadn’t begged her not to go, or at least to take him along with her, just this once. But Ayrenn would vanish for days at a time, making their parents sick with worry, and not once had she told him where she’d been. She was still taller than him, could outrun him easily, and whenever she tried to follow her, he’d lose her eventually, her laughter still ringing in his ears. And yet, he could never bring himself to alert their parents when he caught her sneaking away. It always ended the same, anyway. With Naemon taking the blame for Ayrenn’s disappearance, and once she came back, everyone was too relieved over the safe return of the crown princess to be cross with her.

It wasn’t fair, Naemon thought. But he knew that Ayrenn was more important than he was – she was the heir, and people would always see it that way. He understood why. It was fine. Just like it was fine for his sister to leave him behind whenever she pleased, even though he never understood why she did it. Maybe he’d slow her down too much, or maybe she thought he was just a coward, too scared to really follow her on one of her adventures. It hurt to think about it too much. Sometimes, it was bad enough that he couldn’t stop the tears.

The first time Helcarion had caught him crying over being left behind once more, he’d been horrified. He’d been told to keep his emotions to himself, especially the bad ones. But Helcarion had never been angry with him for it. He had simply told him that crying was alright, and that they were only children, and that not talking about what made them sad was utterly stupid. And then he’d hugged him. Just like he was doing now, with Naemon clinging to him. “I promise”, Helcarion whispered, even though they were alone and nobody could hear them. “I won’t ever leave you behind. You’re my best friend. I’ll always be there for you when it matters.”

“I promise”, Helcarion, now sixteen, repeated.

The princess hadn’t come back this time, and suddenly, everything had become too much. Naemon was heir to the throne now, without the luxury of several years to settle into the role. He’d always been the spare, the backup plan, and now, he was left with no clue how to handle all of it. But then again, he still had Helcarion. They were still as inseparable as they had been as small children, even if Naemon had forced himself to grow somewhat more distant. Not that it ever did anything to scare his friend away – Helcarion probably knew him better than he knew himself. He was not alone in this, he knew. His friend didn’t hug him anymore, didn’t touch him at all, really, but his presence was as comforting as ever, as were his words. “I promise I’ll still be there, no matter what”, he’d said, and Naemon allowed himself to believe him. He had no reason not to.

Helcarion was just… always there. There to help him through his grief when he’d realized Ayrenn was gone for good this time. To help him adjust to the new situation life had thrown him in, even if he didn’t like all of the things it entailed. Like his upcoming engagement to a young lady named Estre. He’d never met her before and would have much preferred someone he already knew, but his parents thought it to be an ideal match, and so he had not protested. There had been a strange look in Helcarion’s eyes for just a moment when he’d shared the news, one that Naemon couldn’t decipher. It had been gone before he could even think to ask what was wrong, replaced by his friend’s usual kind smile, and somehow, Naemon convinced himself he’d just imagined it. He needed things to be fine right now.

“He promised”, Naemon muttered, not knowing what he’d done wrong.

Helcarion had left on some expedition with the Mages Guild. He’d told him he might be gone for a year, perhaps more. Naemon had known, of course, that the other man wasn’t made for politics, and that he took his magical studies very seriously to make up for it. Why he had chosen the guild instead of the Sapiarchs was beyond him, though. He would have been closer at least, had he chosen that path. But now, Helcarion had left him behind, and he hadn’t told him why. Was it something Naemon had done? Had he finally tired of him? “Ah, not to worry”, Estre said when he eventually confided in her. “You don’t need him anyway. One of my mother’s associates visited the guild hall recently, and it seems Helcarion has made friends with a khajiit, of all people. His parents must be so disappointed. As you should be, by the way. He really isn’t the kind of company you should keep as the future king.”

Naemon wanted to argue, wanted to tell her that Helcarion was the best friend he’d ever had, but then again… Helcarion had gone away, without even telling him how he could reach him. Perhaps he simply didn’t care anymore. It hurt, of course, but there was a chance they’d simply grown distant, and that was that. It happened. Maybe it was better that way as well, since Helcarion seemed to avoid Estre whenever he could, and it made things rather difficult. His wife had long suspected the other mer to hate her, and she had told Naemon so, though she claimed she had no idea why. But she smiled reassuringly at him now, and told him things were going to be just fine, and that he could do fine without Helcarion by his side. “You need someone more trustworthy anyway. Someone who is up to the task of being the king’s right hand. Actually, I have someone in mind already! Pelidil has been so eager to meet you, and I’m sure the two of you would get along splendidly. Would you like me to formally introduce him to you?”, she offered. And Naemon nodded.

“I promised...”, Helcarion sobbed, kneeling on the floor in Elden Root’s throne room.

He didn’t care that half the Dominion elite was watching, didn’t care what King Camoran thought of him. He didn’t want to listen to whatever it was Ayrenn tried to say to him. It was her fault as much as it was his own, anyway. If she’d only appreciated her brother more, included him in her decisions, maybe he would not have felt the need to prove he could be something more. But still, Helcarion couldn’t blame her. She had not made any promises to Naemon. He had. He’d promised to stay with him. To be there when he needed him, even if Helcarion knew Naemon would not, could not love him back.

He should never have left, should not have allowed Estre to drive him away from Naemon’s side with the mocking glances she sent his way while clinging to the prince’s arm, touching him freely in a way Helcarion could only ever dream of, or the cruel words she said to him when Naemon wasn’t close enough to overhear. But Helcarion wasn’t blind, he’d seen how much Naemon adored his wife, and above all else, he’d wanted him to be happy, and so he’d accepted that there was no place for him here any longer. Estre  had won, and she would become queen, he had thought. And now she was gone, and the news had taken so long to reach Helcarion that even though he’d dropped everything to try and return to comfort his friend, he’d been too late. Always too late.

“You promised!”, the lich screeched, trying to reach for Helcarion with its clawed hand.

He could not even move. Indaenir had to grab him and haul him backwards, out of range, while Kidhesi threw spell after spell in the direction of what had once been the man Helcarion loved. Everything in him screamed at him to make her stop it, make him try to reason with Naemon. If he could only get through to him – but he’d been told it was impossible. He knew the lich was all the bad parts of Naemon. His rage, his hatred, his arrogance and disdain, with nothing of his beautiful, caring, loyal side left to balance them out. But still – he’d loved all of Naemon, with all of his flaws and fears. He still did, even now.

The lich attempted to claw at his face again, only missing by a mere inch. Kidhesi cursed. “This one knew we should have left him outside!” Helcarion couldn’t make out Indaenir’s answer, but he knew the khajiit was right, he should never have come, he was only in the way, a liability. He would never be able to hurt Naemon, even in this form, and he had been too late to save him. The only thing he’d been able to do was to avenge him, to look Pelidil in the eye as he stabbed him, and tell him that this was for Naemon, even if he could no longer make up for a promise broken too long ago. He’d been to weak then, just as he was now. Now, he could only watch as Kidhesi slowly encased the lich in ice and stepped closer, frozen spikes glittering all around her. “I’m sorry”, he muttered. He could do nothing to save his friend now.

But he could at least be there.

[madam-whim]

!! for the tesblr ask, how bout 19 or 10?

♥ @reachfolk

Thank you for asking! <3 I decided on 10 for this one! So, here’s how my LDB Rienn made her first friend in Skyrim, who also became the best friend she ever had.

__________________________________________________

Last Seed wasn’t the coldest of months. Farkas knew this. But this was still Skyrim, and Oh, I’ll be fine was not what he wanted to hear from a fragile-looking woman who was currently planning on sleeping on one of the benches surrounding the Gildergreen. Outside. Alone. Even though it was still summer, there was a chill in the air that never really seemed to go away, and with the sunlight now gone for the night, it would hardly get any warmer. The woman simply had to know this, and yet...

He usually tried to stay out of other people’s business, but this? This was certainly not fine. Farkas was a man who went with what his gut instinct told him, and it had served him well so far, despite his brother’s repeated attempts at convincing him to “think things through”. Right now, said instinct was screaming at him to help this stranger, who kept insisting that she was alright. Farkas did not believe her for a second.

Maybe it was the way she was dressed – her boots and cloak had seen better days, and the dress she was wearing hardly even fit her. Perhaps it was borrowed, because while it would probably fit a Nord woman of average height and size, it hung loosely on the stranger’s frame and was long enough for her to nearly trip on the hem whenever she took a step. Maybe it was the haunted look in her eyes that made him doubt, or maybe it was that she looked exhausted. One way or another, she more than likely needed help. Or maybe just directions.

“You should really get out of the cold”, Farkas advised her. “It’s only going to get worse until the sun comes back up.” But the stranger only shook her head. “I’m from Bruma”, she said in a small voice, “I can handle a little cold.” Farkas nearly laughed out loud at that. “That’s still in Cyrodiil, though”, he argued. “It’s different here, colder. The wind feels like you’ve been cut with a blade sometimes, if you can still feel your face, that is. And you’re… not dressed for the weather. Also, you’re not a Nord.” At least she did not look like one. More like an Imperial. Or a Redguard, maybe. She seemed to be just about as stubborn as every Nord in existence, though, because she just shrugged, even though she didn’t sound as confident as she probably meant to when she answered. “I’ve had worse”, she claimed.

That was still not even close to what Farkas wanted to hear. Most people who decided (or were forced to) sleep in the streets at least had the common sense to choose a more sheltered spot. And while the stranger did look like she’d had a rough few days, she didn’t look like a beggar. Not like someone used to being out here. Farkas still hoped she was just a bit lost.

“If it’s a place to stay for the night you need, the Bannered Mare’s your best bet”, he tried in another attempt to talk her out of possibly freezing to death. “You must have passed it on your way up here, it’s hard to miss.” “I did”, the stranger replied, wrapping her cloak tighter around herself. Then, she sighed. “Look, I’m not stupid. I’m not from around here, as you know. I don’t know much about this place, but I do know I don’t have the coin for the inn. So, the bench it is. It’s got a brazier next to it, so I won’t freeze. Probably.” She still tried to appear confident, but Farkas didn’t miss the insecure look in her eyes. Those were… strange, he’d noticed. They were a shade of brown that seemed almost golden. Maybe that was common for Imperials? He had no idea. He had bigger problems on his hands anyway, like making sure the stranger didn’t die. “So you’re saying you came to the city knowing you had no coin, and still chose to spend the night here?”, he asked with a raised eyebrow. She had said she wasn’t stupid, but that meant she had to have known this wouldn’t work out. “I didn’t plan to be here”, she muttered, defensive. “I didn’t expect to be stuck in the Jarl’s keep for as long as I was, and by the time I got out it was too late to make it back to Riverwood before nightfall. Just my luck.”

At that, Farkas paused. He had overheard some of the guards talking about a messenger from Riverwood earlier, one who’d insisted to see Jarl Balgruuf, claiming to bring news from Helgen. And then there were the rumors about dragons… The Companions had heard about them, of course, half of Whiterun had been talking about them, but if Helgen had truly been destroyed by such a beast, if the rumors were true and this woman knew something…

“Are you the one who brought news of the dragons?”, he asked, lowering his voice just in case someone walked by. The woman just groaned. “Oh, fantastic. Let me guess, the entire city has heard about it by now? Look, I really can’t tell you anything, I promised the Jarl I would keep this to myself until they’ve figured out how to deal with those things. He says he can’t afford a panic right now, and who knows what he’ll do to me if he finds out I’ve been telling people about what I’ve seen?” “Alright”, Farkas sighed before settling on the bench the stranger had been planning to sleep on. This was going to take a bit of convincing, not that he was surprised. “Sit with me.” The woman hesitated for a moment, but then joined him. It wasn’t like she had anything better to do. “Now”, Farkas continued, “look straight ahead. See that building?” “The one that looks like a boat turned upside down?” “I… suppose”, he muttered. He hadn’t really thought of it that way, but now that she mentioned it… But now wasn’t the time to think about the shape of the roof. “That’s Jorrvaskr, home of the Companions. Do they ever tell you about us down in Cyrodiil?” The stranger nodded. “Yes, but I haven’t heard much. The Nords in Bruma sometimes tell stories, that’s all. The Companions are similar to the Fighter’s Guild, from what I’ve gathered. Is that right?” “To be honest, I don’t know what the Guild is like”, Farkas admitted with a grin. “As for us, we fight, sometimes for glory and honor, sometimes for the good old septim, and then we drink and swap stories. You won’t find better warriors in all of Skyrim though. So if the Jarl has a dragon problem, he’ll be coming to us sooner or later. Might as well tell me about it now.”

The stranger turned to really face him, as if considering whether she could trust him. And then, suddenly it was as if a dam had been broken, and everything the woman had tried to keep to herself simply bubbled to the surface. “Can’t really get into more trouble than I’m already in”, she muttered. “So fine. Yes. There are dragons out there. Or at least one. I… barely escaped Helgen with my life when it attacked.” There was a story there, Farkas just knew it, but he didn’t interrupt. If he wanted to gain the woman’s trust, he’d have to let her speak. “The people of Riverwood helped me when I got there, and in exchange I was asked to get the news to the Jarl”, she explained. “But he doesn’t have any idea on how to defend the city either, and his court wizard is equally clueless, just… very enthusiastic, and now they want me – me – to go look for some artifact in a barrow on the off chance that it might tell them something useful, but there might be undead there and I’ve never held a sword in my life, and how they got the idea that I’m the right person for the job simply because I avoided being burned to ash is beyond me! I wanted to become a bard, not… not monster food!”

As she spoke, her voice rose and for the first time, she didn’t seem lost anymore, just desperate and angry. That was understandable, Farkas thought – after all, she’d barely survived a dragon attack and now she was being told to risk her life for something that could still turn out to be worthless. “Well, we might be able to help with the barrow problem, at least”, Farkas offered with a smile, but the stranger only rolled her eyes at him. “I still have no coin. Or do honor and glory suffice as payment this time?” She sounded almost bitter, Farkas thought. This was the voice of someone who hadn’t experienced much kindness lately, which was reason enough for him to offer it freely. “There’s enough honor in helping to defeat a dragon for most of us”, he shrugged. “Come on up to Jorrvaskr with me. They’d let you stay the night too, if you tell them how you escaped Helgen. That should make for quite the story. They’ll be entertained, and you, my friend, will no longer be cold.”

He rose, and to his relief, the stranger followed suit. “Beats sleeping under a dead tree, I suppose”, she sighed. “That it does. The name’s Farkas by the way.” “Rienn.” “Well then, come on, Rienn. Oh, and once we get in there… Don’t mind my brother. He pretends to hate everyone at first, that’s just how he is.” “That sounds… reassuring”, Rienn said, but there was a trace of laughter in her voice, and for now, that was good enough.

[madam-whim]

does the Wingdings actually translate to anything 😭

Yes!! It's the first few lines of the second dead drop letter (the last one actually written by Lucien)!

[madam-whim]

70 and 92 for helcarion 🥺

Thank you for asking!  70: That’s not an easy question, because there are lots of things I love about him and most of them I didn’t give him on purpose. Visually, I love his tired look combined with the fact that he always tries to smile anyway, and I guess this also shows how strong he is - despite everything he’s lost, and despite the nightmares that he gets because of this, he still manages to remain kind and friendly, and he doesn’t give up. He’s a badass with a really cute smile.

92: Helcarion had a really nice and sheltered childhood! His father was close friends with King Hidellith, and they were both extremely excited when their wives got pregnant nearly at the same time, because it meant their children would grow up together. So Helcarion grew up around Naemon (and Ayrenn of course, before she vanished). However, Helcarion was not quite as good at remembering all the rules and traditions as Naemon was, and court life turned out to be rather stifling. Also, Helcarion was never great with people who think themselves above others, and some of the noble children he grew up around were raised to think that way (probably including Estre, but she always had her own reasons for disliking Helcarion). However, it soon turned out that he was far better at magic than at being a noble. He started his healer training during his teenage years and while he and Naemon still remained friends, they had less and less time to spend together and eventually drifted apart because of that. That being said, Helcarion still had very loving parents who always supported him, and he never had problems making friends, so it was, all in all, a happy childhood.