#skyrim tickle

[xolliwritez]

I HAVE RETRIEVED THE TICKLISH INSANE JESTER - CICERO :D

[liauditore]

[cartoon splat noise] [wretched screams] [explosion] [cartoon wobble sound effect] [train horn] [laboured breathing] [screams of terror] [airhorn]

[teazerwashere]

This took longer than it should!

[lotartfarts]

“To enter into the circle, one must forget their humanity for the hunt.”

TW// blood. Suggestive nudity.

I love werewolves. Anything werewolf. Skyrim states to gain lycanthropy is to drink the blood of werewolves. They do a good job leaving the event to the imagination after introducing the dialogue with the companions…but i like thinking about a whole ceremony with the Dragonborn and the circle. I censored the nudity, you can find the uncensored one on X (Twitter). Still a WIP but I’m happy with it atm. I may do a small series of the ceremony with Morgue and Farkas.

[salamansir]

I'm having so much fun over here...

@aquicat @cicerosfavouritelistener @bethrnoora if it's okay with you guys I'll just start tagging you in all my Cicero art XD

[zivvis]

i love how later on you can tell Gore you're a vegetarian. like okay so when you asked me to hunt a fucking mammoth for you and then didn't eat a single bite of it that was why. okay. the romance in finding out your partner supports the ivory trade during date night

[strigital]

sometimes u gotta stop what ur doing for a hot second (again!) and remind urself that

HIM BIG

[grimmjowjaegerjaquez]

cant believe all it took to get me deep into thinking about tes and snelfs again was for me to think really deeply about making faendal an actual character

[jxsterr]

personally i’m a really big fan of becoming unhealthily obsessed w ancient games that have an active player base of like 3 people

anyway so heres my arisen zelda and her useless pawn link

[veryblushyswitch]

I have an Anthony tickle clip for you. It's almost 10 years old, but it's adorable. The video is "Skyrim vs Zelda (BTS)" at 2:53. I think you'll love it.

Oh my gosh thank you!! He’s so adorable!! 🥰💖

[crumkitty]

A/N: HI GUYS I cant believe I’m doing this, I haven’t written in for so long, but ima try my best 🐱 About!!:This is a Cicero X Listener! this is kinda like a slow burn with lots of yapping, so get ur reading glasses on 😭🙏

BTW! the white is the slow burn, and the pink is NSFW! for the people who just wanna get freaky😛 Warnings!!: NSFW, talk about death, bleeding

Cicero and his Skibidy

The Dragonbron, The listener, how many more names where you going to be taking!? Being both the Dragonborn and Listener was a stressful-- to say the least. You had to worry about Alduin, pleasing everyone in skyrim and worrying if you where enough for all of her. And joining the Dark Brotherhood wasn't any help with this stress AT ALL. you constantly got contracts from Nazir and Astrid, and now the Night Mother. it was all simply to much to bare. You needed a.. Distraction. somthing that could get your mind off your duitys even if it was just for a single moment.

"Oh listener!", that jesters voice rung through your bedroom. your perked your head up, looking to the doorway, finding Cicero with a grin on his face.

"you seem stressed! let sweet Cicero help!", he spoke, lifting a foot to step into your room.

"no! leave, i need time to think", You shouted out without thinking. The jester froze, but reluctently left you. You turned back to the fire, your mind was a mess, whirring around. you didn't understand it anymore. Soon enough, you had yet another annoying contract. but when you came back to report to Astrid, the Lizard was bleeding.

Cicero went bezerk, trying to kill Astrid. you couldn't help but put the blame on yourself, "maybe if I didn't snap, It wouldnt have brought him to this breaking point.". You ended up finding him in the Dawnstar Sanctuary. He cowered before you, blood pouring from his stomach. he was a mad man.

Cicero wheezed, gasping for breath. "You caught me! I surrender..", he laughed weakly.

"time to die, tratior!", you yelled back to him, unsheathing your sword.

"traitor? Me? silly assassin. so confused, so confused.. and they say im mad!", He continued with a gasp for breath, clutching onto his wound, "If im a tratior, so are you! have you not heard the maiden's voice? are you not the listener?", he questioned. Anger seeped into his tone as he sat up, that grin still on is face. even in the face of death, this jester is still.. grinning, has he no idea of what could happen to him? what could happen by your hand?

you left. going back to the Sanctuary, telling Astrid he is dead. everything after this went by a blur. nothing but that jester in your mind, was he still alive? would he attack again? You killed the emperor, Astrid died by your hand, and now you where the leader and listener of the Dark Brotherhood. Nothing made sense anymore. you sat in you masterbedroom, head in your hands when you heard Cicero's voice.

"Oh listener..", He hummed, "Cicero is back. what? you think i'd be grateful that you saved my life?! NO! Cicero wants to be Listener, Cicero deserves to be Listener!", He yelled. You stood up quickly, trying to unsheath your sword, but he got to you first, pinning you against the wall. You let out a yelp, looking into those dark brown eyes of his as he held his Ebony Dagger across your neck, that same insaine grin spread across his face. but he paused.

Cicero laughed, resting his head against your shoulder. "You should see the look on your face! Cicero was just kidding, oh great and powerful listener..", he breathed into your ear, his gaze becoming.. darker. You looked at him through the corner of your eye, watching him trace his blade down your neck and to your collerbone, a smirk on his lips. "My sweet listener.. Cicero.. finds himself captivated by you, by how you whimper to his touch", He hushed against your ear, warm breath tickling your neck. he pressed against you, the bulge in his pants growing more prominant. You found yourself unable to push him away, to be honest.. this was the exact thing you needed to get your mind off your duties.

"Your naughty", You spoke back, that siren gaze of yours peirceing into Cicero's own lustful gaze. your pushed your hips against his, Cicero whimpering. he pressed his forehead into your's, dropping hus dagger aside. Instead of him holding that evil grin, you held your own, now leaning more into Cicero, your breath becoming ragged. but Cicero placed a finger on your lips, standing up, glaring down at you.

"Imagine us, my listener. The Keeper and His Listener... Cicero likes this thought, and the sound of it.. turns him on", He giggled, now leaning in and claiming your lips as his. He moaned into the kiss, clutching your body close, his hands reaching down to your ass and grabbing it tightly, his bulge throbbing against your thighs. You shut your eyes, between every kiss taking a gasp of air before his tounge could plunge back into your mouth, swirling and dancing with your own. you pressed your hips against his harshly, causing him to let out a soft moan. he broke the kiss, his gaze filled with nothing but a primal instinct to take you, to love his listener.

"come on..", you taunted teasingly, reaching a hand down to his bulge, gently grasping and feeling, Cicero's own breath leaving him. "Just fuck me already. make me forget all the bad, all the good. I want to be seeing stars.", You begged, Cicero growling with need and roughly lifting up your shirt, revealing your beautiful chest to his gaze. his eyes widened and he couldnt help but lean in, taking one hardened peak into his mouth. looking up to you with dark brown eyes, he swirled his tongue aroun the peak, his eyes shutting as he nipped lightly against you, your body jolting slightly with pleasure.

"Oh.. my listener likes that, do they?", He whispered against your skin, now kneeling on his knees, kissing down your belly to your belt, he tugged at it. with a mocking look of innocents, he undid your belt, tossing it aside and pulling down your pants to his hungry gaze. he bit his bottom lip and couldn't tear his eyes away from your dripping arousal.

"Your amazing.", He breathed against heated skin. hesitantly, he stuck his tongue out, sliding between slick folds, a moan leaving his lips as he savored your salty sweet taste, causing you to shudder with pleasure, your hand instinctively reaching out to tangle fingers in his bright red hair. "you taste amazing too.." he added. he shut his eyes, taking that throbbing pearl into his mouth. he suckled, and flicked his tongue against it with need, a need to please his listener. he lapped and lapped at you for hours until you where nothing but a quivering soaked mess, your body left limp in his own. he moved to your bed, rocking you in his arms.

"Hush my sweet.. Cicero is here, to care and love you.", he whispered to you, pressing his lips that your release coated, to your brow.

"But after you have pleased poor aching Cicero..", He grinned once more as he looked down to you... what have you gotten yourself into?

Idk if I’ll do a pt 2 only if u guys are freaky deeky 🤤

[throughtrialbyfire]

𝐖𝐈𝐏 𝐖𝐞𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲 ♥

it's wednesday again!!!! i woke up weirdly early today lmao, and i've been editing all day.

tagged by the lovely @thequeenofthewinter ! <3

tagging the fantastic @skyrim-forever @umbracirrus @archangelsunited @saltymaplesyrup @orfeoarte

@oblivions-dawn @vivifriend @kookaburra1701 @changelingsandothernonsense @dirty-bosmer and anyone else who wishes to join in this week!! <3

this week, i bring a long (1.6k word) section of Chapter 42 of Cycle of the Serpent. the trio are on their way to Wolfskull Cave, and who knows what they'll find there… fun fact, this chapter (as of rough edits, not completed) is 11.5k words, my longest for the fic yet.

Clouds bowed over the distant horizon. The Sea of Ghosts had the peculiar honor of being a divide between Haafingar and Morthal, swamp and rocky shores, the flow of the saltwater carried into an estuary and the Karth River not too far from the Dragon Bridge lumber mill. Athenath thought of his father. He'd been a lumber worker when their mother had met him, and continued the line of work even when it took him away from the city of Anvil proper for days on end. He would come home, and sleep, and work, the post-Great War economy a wobbling, flightless thing, especially for the family of Mer. The map laid out the names of towns in dark ink, marked with the routes the trio had traced, spindly along the pre-illustrated paths. The road, which the trio had become familiar with and moreso by every trip out of the city, bore them west. The sun straggled through the mountains that crowded up one side of the way, laced through the limbs of the trees which bit down on a thick wind off the beach. Athenath pulled their knapsack tighter as his curls whipped at his cheek, scrunching their face as more tickled the back of his neck. The armor's stitching, courtesy of Emeros, held up well, and kept them warm. The leather held off the sun's burn and cold breeze, but in the summer-end heat, did its job a little too well in staving off the chill of the wind. Autumn was near its beginnings, however, and they could glean the slightest gold on the edges of the leaves. Hearthfire was near its end, as was the summer. Soon, the green grasses would grow brittle and flax-yellow, and the trees would be bare, aside from the evergreens and conifers that pinned the horizon together. Soon, maybe, this would all be over.

The inside-of-outside-of sensation which made the potent mixture of his distrust and revulsion had only grown in strength since the day before, as if it was coming to a grand crescendo. It snuck up on the Altmer, a spider on the shoulder or a whisper in the dark. He looked to Emeros and it coiled like an adder. He looked to Wyndrelis and it growled in warning like a dog. He looked to the sky and thought of the things the others had done to keep them alive, what they'd all done to keep one another alive, and it grew until it choked on its own ends, and suffocated under the weight of the reminders. The nights together in laughter or in silence, however few there were, still burnt brighter than what unseen hands tried to extinguish them. The cave was not far from the town of Dragon Bridge, past the farm where the chickens' clucking took up the air, along with the slightly sour, earthy-wet stench of livestock. The odor hung as the trio passed by, waving to the woman working to harvest what her garden had given her before it all went to ruin. The passing look of the idyllic spot before the sea, close to a town but just out of the way, brought back a gnawing of want for Riverwood. It was the first scant amount of peace that Athenath had experienced in this land, and the tall pines and looming mountains were a longing he couldn't put out of mind. Sure, there had been battle in the barrow and a hunt for a strange wolf and the skinning of it which left them nauseated and pale, but it was, in the hue of nostalgia, a fond memory. The time before the trek to Whiterun and the battle at the watchtower, the time before the Dragonborn. He did not want to know what it meant to carry that title. It wasn't theirs to take, they thought as they continued their leisurely pace in the middle of the other two, Emeros at the back, as though keeping watch for some invisible force, the Altmer's nerves on edge at the sight. Wyndrelis stepped in a slow stride, having spent early morning examining soul gems, most empty. He'd said something to himself about needing an enchantment table, and had scrutinized his mace while saying so, but all else had been nothing to the Altmer, who knew only the barest amount about magic. It was all around them, and for a high elf, knowing little magic was a shame, their ability with it ceasing at the fickle flame that they sometimes had luck in making with their fingers. But he'd had their excuses - raised in the Imperial province, in the time just after a war with elves, magic was a distrustful beast which skulked all around the air and deep into the earth. In the wake of such a war, Wyndrelis had not been daunted. He'd reached into the fabric of the world around them, took hold of the magic, and knit it into himself to make it his own.

And so had the wizards, stalking shadows of a cave hidden from the city and towns and farms, out of the way of all, and taking down ten men in one blow. Athenath swallowed dryly. The image of the cart full of stinking bodies wouldn't leave them, no matter how many times they scrubbed at their eyes with his curled fists and summoned spots to their vision. It was a mark in their mind like a long, broken scar. It took the story of the cave from tale to tangible. It made it real. And Athenath had, somewhere deep down, hoped it was merely myth. "We'll be heading up Mount Kilkreath," Emeros announced from his position at the rear, map clutched in his gauntlet-clad fingers. His gear made thin noises, cloth wrapping around the bottles inside his knapsack. Without his old experiments, he'd made more place for useful potions, and had been quick to purchase ingredients for healing and disease-cures, apparently spending the prior day after Athenath had stormed off in Angeline's Aromatics and working at the alchemy station and asking questions about the flora of Haafingar, where to find certain things, what she recommended for potency in the region, putting the hurried mixtures together. They would not be nearly as effective without time. Emeros had lamented the fact that morning while tucking them into his bag, sharpening his words until the warning was clear: that he would not be of much use if the other two became injured.

"That's not too far," Athenath remarked with a shrug and a small, apprehensive pause, "so Wolfskull Cave is close, then?" "It's practically across the road, we must have missed it by a mile or two the last time we were in the area." Wyndrelis grunted a small noise, as though this were his reply. As though he, too, were not at peace with the arrangement. They could have waited, or not gone to the cave at all. Captain Aldis was the authority in matters like this, but he was going to wait a whole two days to gather the people for the job. This was two days that none of the trio thought the city had. There was an electric quality to the air, like that shiver down the neck before a fearful wailing, that held the clouds at bay and kicked the roots up that grounded the trio's patience. The stench of rotten fruit and musty, humid chambers, the ache of the sleepless nights and the hum of a mood that wasn't theirs. The choice had fallen to the wayside long ago. "So, when we get there, what do we even do?" Athenath's question stuck in the air like a pin in a gown, the other two pausing, strides coming to a slow stop. The trio looked between one another, haggard eyes meeting haggard eyes. Emeros tightened a hand on the strap of his quiver slung over his waist, his bow in firm place on his back. "I'll take anything that's at a distance. I would recommend, however, we keep our heads down. We're merely here to investigate. Should we not see the need for combat, then we shouldn't make it necessary." Wyndrelis curled his lip. "Corpulus said something of wizards, correct?" A beat passed. A nod from the other two. "I don't expect this to be peaceful. I'll try to ward off spells, but you two will have to do the fighting, in that case." The warmth of Dawnbreaker collected in Athenath's awareness. The sword would serve them well if they went up against the undead, but weren't swords only as good as the swordsman? Their palms went clammy at the thought. They were not exactly a skilled swordsman, or fighter of any capacity. They preferred to hide in the shadows and dodge the light, to keep their footsteps quiet and to leave no trace of himself, not to fight up against anyone or anything.

Athenath tied their hair back with the scarlet ribbon in their pocket. He tightened it a handful of times to make sure it would hold, and drew in a long, tense breath. Their hair always had a habit of getting in his face at the wrong time. They wouldn't risk their own body betraying him in a moment of needed focus. "It's just up the way," Emeros looked to the figure of Meridia, the statue which grew closer with each step, "let's mind our surroundings and try to be quiet from this point onwards." The other two didn't reply, as though the idea had been taken to heart in the fullest extremes.

[afloofwithmultipleinterests]

I just updated the CRAP out of my TK Masterpost. It's now up in my description so y'all can go and check it out whenever you'd like!

[guarmommy]

Characters & Family Dynamics

I've been thinking about my Skyrim characters lately and want to explore their backstories more. Their families and their dynamics are an interesting start so I made these portraits.

Agnetha Goldenbraid (She/Her) was a happy child with a mother, father, and baby brother. She was born in Cyrodiil and raised on a small farm in Bruma, living the traditional Nord lifestyle.

Her father, Erland Goldenbraid, was a proud Nord who lived by the sword and valued family above everything else. He married his childhood sweetheart, a half-Imperial, half-Nord woman named Cassia Spada, and soon conceived their first child. Erland and Cassia were considerably easy-going with Agne but imbued Nordic customs and homesteading chores on her as soon as she began to walk. Her chores included helping her mother with domestic tasks, tending to animals, feeding chickens, and sometimes having run-ins with Folki, the grumpy goat that terrorized the townsfolk. Like any typical child, Agne played with other children and got in trouble when the adults weren't around.

When her mother got pregnant, Agne was exhilarated. Having a little sibling to play with tickled her little heart. After her brother Gunnar was born, Agne adored him and proudly accepted her new role as the protective big sister.

As the Great House Dres dictates, family, honor, and tradition weighed heavily on every household member's shoulders. Lorthyn and Favani imposed merciless cruelty on their rivals and slaves. None of their three children were spared from the whips and chains, both figuratively and literally.

To say Zalyn Dres (He/Him) grew up in a strict household would be an understatement. At a young age, Zalyn was forced to undergo grueling tasks. His father Lorthyn would drag him on slave raids in the dangerous swampland to mold him into a warrior like his older brother Thalyn, as per Dres tradition. Zalyn was no stranger to being the brunt of his father's wrath. In response, he became more rebellious as he got older.

Zalyn's relationship with his mother Favani was cold and distant. He barely received motherly love from her. In fact, anytime Zalyn came to her for anything, she would either ignore him or harshly shoo him away, paying him no attention. She enabled her husband's ways of disciplining the children, especially on Zalyn, and took her cruelty out on servants and Dresla, her youngest daughter.

Despite the venomous relationship with his parents, Zalyn enjoyed all the riches and privileges that came with being a Great House-born dunmer. He got along with Dresla and was protective of her, shielding her from their mother's whip on several occasions. As for his relationship with Thalyn, Zalyn revered him and sometimes felt envious of him since he was the oldest and favorite child.

Marlyn Rulvani (She/Her) was born a clone. Her "mother" Hekatah created her by accident via meddling in Daedric magic, giving her the mockery of a "failed clone". As powerful as she's beautiful, madness inevitably consumed her amid the experiments. Rumors say her mind was corrupted by the Daedric Prince of Madness himself.

Hekatah despised Marlyn, often berating and punishing her for every minor thing, whether it's wearing the wrong dress or growing her hair too long. She did everything she could to ensure that her clone daughter looked nothing like her.

There were softer moments, however. Marlyn was naturally a curious child so Hekatah facilitated this by allowing her free-reign to the library (mostly because Hekatah wanted nothing to do with her and wanted an excuse to whisk her away somewhere where she was out of sight and mind). Marlyn had the best tutors a young Telvanni apprentice could ever want and spent hours burying her nose in dusty tomes and books.

Nalin (They/Them) was born as Nauriel Silarume by an Alinor-born artisan and noblewoman. Anthea, whom Nalin thought was the most beautiful mer, was the daughter of a wealthy family that arranged a marriage for her with a captain of the Altmeri Dominion Navy. Much to her family's dismay, she ran off with the young, charismatic Corelas instead. Their marriage was progressive, even by Altmeri standards, and driven by genuine love, not wealth or elven purity.

Being only one child, Nalin grew up carefree and explored many hobbies and opportunities their heart desired, viewing the world as their oyster. Anthea and Corelas welcomed their child's adventurous spirit, encouraging them to pursue their passions to the ultimate extent of their capabilities. When Nalin proclaimed they wanted to be a performer, they fully supported that endeavor.

[salamansir]

Posting this as it's own thing! I needed more cicero tickles in my life, and Berrian is here to provide ❤️

[deadlymousex01]

Skyrim Characters when you get hurt

Farkas, Brynjolf, Nazier, Aela, Arnbjorn, Lydia

You got hurt on a mission and there were no healing potions readily available (but let's face it if your actually playing skyrim you're usually stocked on those things, also for the sake of this story you don't have a healing spell). Sorry if this is a long one! Hope you enjoy! :)

Farkas

Farkas carefully wraps the bandage around your injuries making sure to not hurt you further. He's trying so hard to focus on helping you feel better but you can tell by the way his brow is scrunched he's more than a little annoyed you went so far into the barrow without him.

He got caught up dealing with some draugr and by the time he finished with them you were gone, so focused on your goal you didn't realize you'd left him behind until you were dealing with three draugr deathlords. You'd managed to keep them all at bay between shouts and your sword, even killing one of them, but they managed to get a few good hits in and if it wasn't for Farkas showing up you might have joined the dead. Once the two of you had finished them off your adrenaline had worn off and the decent cut down your back and side made it impossible to travel further, so instead Farkas got you both into a cleared out room and secured the door for the night so you could rest without risk of attack.

Now he was currently bandaging a cut along your arm and a wave of guilt washed over you. You had first been annoyed by his fussing, reminding him once again you were the dragonborn and perfectly capable of taking care of yourself but seeing his concern and worry made those feelings disappear quickly and be replaced by guilt. Once he finished with your arm he set to work building a small fire in the little pit in the room as you leaned back against the wall watching him.

"I'm sorry Farkas." You say softly. You know he's listening as his hands pause their movements even as he continues to face away from you. "I shouldn't have been so distracted and gotten so far ahead without you. We were warned this barrow was dangerous and I was reckless...I'll try to be more mindful about my surroundings in the future." You see his shoulders rise and fall with a sigh as the fire starts up. He moves to kneel in front of you, worry written all over his face, as he brings a large battle worn hand up to cup your cheek.

"I just want you to be careful, if anything happened to you..." He trailed off, but you knew what he wanted to say. Many think he's just a thickheaded brute but you knew better. Under that all that gruff was a intelligent and caring man. He sighed again looking you in the eyes. "I know you are a capable warrior, the dragonborn, and I don't want to belittle you but...please stay close to me until were out of the place."

You bring one hand up to gently hold his wrist and bring your other to cup his cheek like he's doing to yours with a smile. "I promise, and thank you for saving me, my big strong wolf." He returns your smile with a huff of a laugh before bringing his forehead forward to lightly rest against yours "You're welcome, my ferocious little dragon."

Brynjolf

"Of all the boneheaded, reckless, stupid stunts I've seen what you just pulled has got to be the stupidest one!" Brynjolf's angry whisper tickles your ear as he leans dow to talk to you. The plan was supposed to be simple; He would create a distraction downstairs in the basement of the estate to draw the guards down and then you would sneak in and rob them blind as the owner was supposed to be out for the night and his wife was not home. Well it didn't exactly work like you planned.

Brynjolf had to wait a little longer than expected to get into the estate as the owner was standing in front of the door he needed to get into talking with a guard. Deciding you didn't need a distraction you snuck into the building without him. It was going well in the beginning however you forgot to consider the owners mistress who was visiting her lover for the night. She had been sleeping in the bed and heard you sneaking around in the room over and came to investigate. You had been so busy trying to break into a safe you didn't hear her until it was to late and her dagger stabbed into your shoulder.

Luckily she had terrible aim and in the dark it was even worse so instead of stabbing into your shoulder it missed and ran the blade down the back of your shoulder and back. Your scream of pain and surprise, as well as turning around with your own dagger, caused her to scream in return and start drawing the guards upstairs. You managed to get out the window again and drop to the ground where Brynjolf was still hiding nearby. He knew what was going on the minute he heard the screams and saw the guards run into the house giving the two of you the chance to run.

You didn't get to go to far when the guards started running after you, so Brynjolf had pushed you into a small space between houses and pressed himself up against your back in order to fit himself. The wound on your back ached and burned but the feeling of your lovers body against yours helped distract you from it.

Once the guards had moved off elsewhere he slowly left the space before helping you out as well. Turning you around with his hands he lowered your collar to examine the cut.

"You're lucky your armor protected you from the worst of it, you'll need a couple stitches but you'll be fine." He turned you back to face him as he crossed his arms. "You could of been killed and it would of been because you were being stupid." You knew he was right but that didn't stop the annoyed feeling rising up at his tone.

"Oh like you've never made a bad call during a job."

"Oh plenty love," He said leaning down to be face to face with you with that signature smirk "But I'm clever enough to get away with it." You roll your eyes before turning to walk away. "You're a cocky bastard Bryn." He stops you but grabbing your arm and pushing you back until your trapped between the wall of the house and his body still smirking down at you.

"Aye love, that I am, and you can't resist it."

Nazier

You start to wake with a pounding in your head. As your open your eyes you realize you're back in the sanctuary, laying on one of the beds. You go to lift your arm but a sharp pain prevents you from doing so, instead you turn your head to see Nazier walking up to your bedside, a mug of water in his hand. He sits down in the chair next to your bed and helps you take a few drinks of water before setting it down on the end table and gently taking your uninjured hand.

"How are you feeling? We would of given you a potion but Gabriella said you needed to wake up first or it could do more damage than good." he explained gently running a hand through your hair, careful to avoid any hurt areas.

"I'm sore and hurting all over...how did I get here? Last thing I remember we were hunting down that rouge in the woods." Your head hurts as you try to recall memories that are escaping you. Nazier scooted his chair a little closer so he could lean against the bed.

"Turns out that rouge was a werewolf. The we hadn't any indication of that otherwise we would of been ready for him. You had managed to get close to him but he either smelled you or heard you because he changed quickly and hit you so hard you went flying back into a tree..." He trails off for a moment giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "For a minute after that I thought you were dead."

Your heart ached at the sound of his voice. It was so broken and hurt, like he was truly afraid he had lost you. Of course it could of been true, werewolves are hard to fight when your prepared for them let alone when you aren't. You squeeze his hand back encouraging him to continue.

"I managed to kill him and ran to check on you. You were hurt pretty bad, my healing spells are rusty but I managed to heal you enough to be able to move you and get you back here. Gabriella and Babette got you bandaged up and healed a bit more, but then it's just been waiting for you to wake up. You've been out for two days."

You gently bring your hand up to his cheek and give him a small smile unable to give him the comforting hug you want to. He leans into your touch before leaning down to place a soft kiss to your lips. You knew he must have been extremely worried if he's being so affectionate where the others could see. While the whole family knew the two of you were together, Nazier wasn't one to how it off much.

"Next time you go out I'm going to make extra sure we know everything about the next mark, I'm not going to let you go in blind again." You hum contently feeling safe with him nearby and as he leaves to get the healing potion you close your eyes knowing it will be a while before he lets you out of his sight again.

Aela

You limp toward Whiterun holding your side, the injury wasn't life threatening thankfully as you had been wearing your steel armor but like a idiot you hadn't remembered to bring a healing potion so now you had to endure the long walk back to Jorrvaskr. As you grew closer to the gates you could smell Aela's scent getting closer. Sure enough around the bend she came looking annoyed and worried at the same time.

"I could smell your blood from the gate, how badly are you injured? Why didn't you bring any healing potions?" She asks coming up next to you and lifting your arm to allow her to inspect your injuries. You wince as she does so, the sudden movement pulling at the wound and causing you to flinch.

"I'm fine Aela...ow...I just forgot to get some before I left since I didn't want to lose the silver hands scent. I had the element of surprise and I wasn't going to waste the chance to get 'em." You pull your arm around of her grip and lower it to relieve the strain it was putting on your side. "I had them all nearly taken care of when one pulled a hidden dagger out on me. Just got me by surprise but I'm fine. My armor blocked most of it."

She gives you a firm glare before poking your side causing you to flinch and yell in pain. "You are clearly not fine. Now lets go, don't want you to bleed out in the street." She moves to your good side and drapes your arm around her shoulders so you can lean against her for support. She leads the way through the streets gaining you both a few curious looks before you make it back to the hall. Leading you inside and to your shared room she sits you on the bed and begins to help remove your armor to look at the damage. Even with a healing potion it would need stitched up so she sits on the bed next to you and begins sewing the skin shut giving you the potion to help with the process.

"While I'm all for knocking a few silver hand heads, I wish you would of told me you were leaving to do it. I would of given you back up and probably prevented this from happening." Her quick and nimble hands make easy work of the stitches before she starts wrapping bandages around your chest and waist. "We've already lost two important people to the Companions... and to me ...I really don't want to lose anyone else. So next time, clue me in on your plans so I can make sure you don't kill yourself by accident alright?"

You nod as she finishes with the bandages and helps you lay back on the bed before joining you herself. Snuggled up together you give her a small gentle kiss "I'm sorry for worrying you Aela, I promise to tell you when and where I'm going next time."

"Good, cause if you don't I may be the one stabbing you."

"Wouldn't want it any other way, love."

Arnbjorn

"Arnbjorn, calm down! I'm fine, really, look! See? I'm fine!" This was of course a lie; your left leg was cut up and bleeding, your right arm was just as bad, you were pretty sure your left wrist was broken, and you could be sure you had at least one black eye and a cut lip. In truth you looked like hell however Arnbjorn was one move away from shifting into his werewolf form in a rage and going out and unleashing hell on anyone and everyone, wether they were involved in the bandits that did this or not.

Arnbjorn's chest was heaving so badly from his heavy breathing and growling, and his eyes had almost gone full black in rage you wondered if he was even hearing you or was just lost fighting the beast inside. While you knew he would never hurt you, you didn't want him to hurt one of the family by accident or go on a rampage in Dawnstar and force all of you to move again. You slowly limp toward him, every movement of your leg sending shooting pain up it, until you were close enough to cup his face in your hands.

"Arnbjorn...please...breathe. I know you want to help and the best way for you to do that is calm down so you can help me. Please love, for me." The mission had gone badly. The target had been ready for you and managed to capture you. They had started to torture you in the hopes of finding the rest of your family but you managed to get away and kill your target before you left. Arnbjorn had smelled your blood the moment you walked into the sanctuary and when he saw you, the beast started taking over.

His breathing started to slow down as you held his face and his body began to slowly relax. You watched as his eyes slowly returned to color before he let out a long slow sigh closing his eyes before opening them again. Without a word he immediately scooped you up into his arms and carried you downstairs and into the master bedroom of the sanctuary. He sat on the bed with you in his lap, protectively holding you against his chest as if the bandits were going to show up to finish the job. Babette came in and bandaged your wounds giving you a healing potion for the pain. After she left she shut the door leaving the two of you alone.

Arnbjorn buried his head into your neck deeply breathing in your scent and letting out a low growl. "I will be going out and killing the rest of those bastards." This wasn't a surprise, you knew he would. After losing and being betrayed by Astrid it had taken him so long to be open to the idea of having a mate again and once he did he was even more paranoid; making sure he knew where you were traveling to, who you were talking to, what your plans were, that your weapons were sharp and in the best condition, that your armor was intact. He had loosened up and a lot of these but he had been so hurt by Astrid betrayal you knew this was just what he needed to do to allow himself to be open to you yet still protect himself and you.

He laid you carefully on the bed and then laid next to you allowing you to position yourself against him comfortably without hurting yourseld further. "I know you will, I know you'll always protect me when I need it." He grunted in response before burying his face in your neck again.

"You're not leaving this sanctuary again until your wounds are completely healed...and even then I might not let you." You huff a laugh starting to feel drowsy from everything that had happened the last two days.

"Yes, love."

Lydia

Lydia let out a grunt as she helps slide down the wall to sit on the ground outside of the cave the two of you had just explored. Neither of you had expected the cave to be full of vampires however once you discovered it was you had been determined not to leave until you had cleared it out as it was so close to Morthal.

The two of you had gotten most of them taken care of when a gargoyle popped out and surprised you both. Its claws got a good cut in across both your legs and while you had managed to kill it you were definitely not walking very well by the time you had made it back to the entrance, needing Lydia to help you limp your way out.

"Here my love, rest here while I see if I have a healing potion or bandages." She digs through her bag managing to find a small healing potion and a few rags to cut up for bandages. Offering you the potion she cuts the rags into strips before carefully bandaging your legs.

"You'll need to rest here for a day before you'll be strong enough to reach Morthal. That potion was enough to heal your legs so you don't bleed out but you need to build up some strength. Wait here, I'm going to grab some firewood before it gets dark." When you nod in response she leaves for several minutes before returning with some wood. She sets up the fire before lighting it and then moves toward you. She removes her leg armor and sets it aside to help you lay down with your head in her lap.

"Thank you Lydia, you really were my shield in there. I probably wouldn't be here right now if it wasn't for you." You smile up at her, legs feeling numb from the potion working its magic. She gives you a smile running her fingers through your hair as you close your eyes and let out a sigh of contentment.

"Of course, you're not just my thane, you're my love. I would do anything to protect you, even lay down my own life for yours." You bring a hand up to stroke her cheek and she takes it in hers giving it a soft kiss.

"Let's hope it never comes to that dear, after all, someone needs to go home to the kids."