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goopysoup · 22 days ago

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..someone will ache for your soul..

In which you find your soulmate

featuring: farkas, vilkas, mercer frey, brynjolf, cicero, ancano, serana

[all are gender neutral, but there is a mention of being called ‘pretty’] [this took me almost three hours 💀 I don’t like most of them:(]

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farkas

He could smell them from a mile away.

That’s weird, let’s start again, shall we? Farkas swung his sword at the giant, fighting the urge to turn and run towards the sweet smell approaching. The beast inside him begged— pleaded— for him to go and engulf himself inside that smell, to cover himself in it, whatever it was.

That’s when he saw them. They aimed a bow, a steel arrow shooting through the air and into the giants eye, making it roar out before Aela ultimately got the last hit and killed the giant on the farm. Farkas couldn’t keep his eyes off them, the smell was coming from them. He watched as Aela spoke to them, not even registering what she was saying as he watched this person— the most perfect thing he’d ever seen.

Later, he’d seen them at Jorrvaskr, watching them enter and sneak downstairs. Were they joining?

“Farkas!” He’d heard Skjor’s voice shout from Aela’s room, “did you call me?” He asks as he smells that sweet smell again, his eyes locking on theirs. He barely heard what Aela was saying to him, “uh— new blood? Oh, hello. I’m Farkas. Come, follow me.”

He’d spoken to Kodlak later that night, asking him what in oblivion that sweet smell coming from them was and why was it just coming from them?

Kodlak laughs, forgetting that Farkas could be a bit dense at times, “she’s your mate,” he says as he pats him on the back a little harshly, “your soulmate, in other words.”

His soulmate..

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vilkas

He’d had their stupid name imprinted on his wrist since he was just a pup, a name he’d never heard of in all his years. Vilkas had begun to doubt that his soulmate even lived in Tamriel, in Skyrim, how unlucky was he? First, his lycanthropy, now his soulmate was nowhere to be seen? Nobody knew of someone with such a name?

It was a normal day as any, Vilkas sat at the small table with Kodlak, the two of them wondering if there truly would ever be a way for them to be rid of the beast. The beat haunted Kodlak, he knew that, the old man wanted to get into Sovngarde as any true nord would. But the beast prevented that, he would end up in Hircine’s land hunting for the rest of eternity.

It wasn’t long before an unfamiliar person walked into the halls of Jorrvaskr, heading down towards the two men. Their conversation was cut short, “I’d like to join the companions,” their voice was nice, I stark contrast to the armour and weapons they had on their body.

“Would you, now? Here, let me have a look at you? Hmm. Yes, perhaps. A certain strength of spirit.” Kodlak spoke, making Vilkas furrow his eyebrows.

“Master, you’re not truly considering accepting them?” He asks, making Kodlak give him a subtly pointed look, explaining they had empty beds for people with a fire in their hearts, “Apologies. But, perhaps this isn’t the time. I’ve never even heard of this outsider.”

The person sheepishly looks to Vilkas before they state their name. He freezes for a moment before he looks at them, Kodlak letting out a hearty laugh, making the person look at him with confusion.

“Vilkas, take them out to the yard and see what they can do.” Kodlak says before the person looks between Vilkas and Kodlak for a moment.

Oh gods..

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mercer frey

He’d known they were his soulmate from the moment he’d met them. Mercer saw the tattoo imprinted onto their forearm before they pulled their sleeve back down, he wasn’t stupid. But he’d never said anything, never gave them the hint he wanted them as much as they wanted him, not with the plans he had against the guild.

He’d let his guard down, it was so unlike him to bring any of his walls down but they made him. It was their fault, wasn’t it? He reaches over, his hand brushing against their cheek as they both stood outside in the backyard of his home, concealed under the stars, slone with no one watching them.

“I know,” they say suddenly, he furrows his eyebrows, “know what?” He asks in return, slipping his hand down to their neck, cradling it. He could choke them and end the misery of having him as their soulmate.

The grasp his wrist, carefully sliding down his sleeve to show the matching tattoo. His face hardens, pulling away as he covers the tattoo with his sleeve again, “it means nothing.”

He didn’t entirely mean those words, he yearned for them in secret, but he wouldn’t let his walls come down again. They didn’t need to get involved in his dirty work, he didn’t even want them in the guild anymore. It was to protect them.

“Leave, don’t come back, you understand?”

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brynjolf

The Dragonborn walks into Riften for the first time, almost laughing at how scared the guard outside had been when he realised they knew there was no tax. They make their was through the town, they liked the atmosphere even if they couldn’t see the colour of anything, it was better than dealing with the whole Alduin thing, anyways.

“Never done an honest day’s work in your life for all that coin you’re carrying, eh?” Brynjolf’s voice sounds out quietly as he approaches the famous Dragonborn. Who didn’t know of them, being clad in such armour and that weapon? They didn’t hide it.

“I’m sorry, what?” They ask, looking up at the man before a myriad of colours struck their vision within seconds, overwhelming them. Their head ached at the sight before they finally got used to it and looked around, not noticing the look that Brynjolf was giving them, admiring.

“I’m saying you’ve got the coin, love, but you didn’t earn a septim of it honestly, I can tell,” Brynjolf says once their eyes move back to him, crossing his arms with an expression that matches flirtation.

“How could you possibly know that?” The Dragonborn asks, almost bewildered as they finally get a good look of him, he was handsome, effortlessly charming. It was almost.. irritating? No, that’s not the word, “wait— my wealth is none of your business.”

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong, love. Wealth is my business. Maybe you’d like a taste?” They’d gone through with the plan, stealing what’s-his-face’s ring and planting it on the other who’s-his-name successfully.

“Looks like I chose the right person for the job. And here you go.. your payment, as promised,” Brynjolf hands them the payment he’d promised his soulmate. He couldn’t wait to get them into the guild, to live a life with them— even if the life was illegal.

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cicero

Poor Cicero hadn’t even gotten the chance to speak to the pretty assassin that had walked into the sanctuary the day he’d brought his dear mother. Sweet, sweet Night Mother. He was such a good Keeper, wasn’t he? Why wouldn’t she just speak to him! No, he must be calm, that’s what sweet mother would want, isn’t it?

He spoke to the Night Mother now, they were alone, sweet solitude with the sweet Night Mother, “Have you.. have you spoken to anyone? No.. no, of course not. I do the talking, the stalking, the seeing and the saying!” He continued for a while, rambling to the mother.

Suddenly, he opens her coffin, gasping with confusing and repulse. Here, the pretty assassin was in the coffin with the Night Mother!

“What? What treachery! Defiler! Debased and defiler! You have violated the sanctity of the Night Mother’s coffin! Explain yourself! Speak, worm!”

The pretty assassin’s eyes seemed to widen at his words, he couldn’t tell if it was because of his words or tone, but he didn’t care, “The Night Mother spoke to me! She said, ‘I am the one.’” Now, it was Cicero’s turn to widen his eyes. Those words! The words! His words! The ones on his arm, the ones his soulmate would say! His Listener!

Good luck with this one, dear Listener..

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ancano

Ancano had noticed them as soon as they’d walked through those gates. Another new apprentice, how bothersome. Still, he continued his conversation with Mirabelle, quickly growing more irritated by the treatment she was giving him.

The new apprentice was guided away by Mirabelle, leaving Ancano to his thoughts. It was odd, he felt drawn to them, though he didn’t know nor care why. He had business to attend to.

The apprentice was in the Hall of Elements with Tolfdir, the two of them watching the mysterious orb they’d found in Saarthal. Clearly, this mage was more troublesome than Ancano had thought. The Psijic Order was asking for them. So, Ancano had inturruped the two of them, gaining a temper tantrum from Tolfdir. It was only when they were alone that the elf had noticed a familiar scratch on the side of the apprentice’s neck- one that matched the one that had appeared on his not but a few hours before.

Gods be damned, this apprentice was his soulmate, “I need you to come with me immediately. Let’s go.”

For now, he wouldn’t say anything about it, this apprentice seemed to be too oblivious. Or, at least, that’s what they pretended to be with that stupid little smile on their lips.

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serana

Being trapped in a tomb for gods know how long wasn’t something Serana entirely enjoyed. I mean, who would? It was dark and cold, dreary and cramped, far too undeserving of even a vampire such as her. She just had to remember, she was doing this for her father and he would come back for her, right?

She hadn’t woken up until she was almost fallen on the floor, but her quick instincts helped her to keep balance. She was free, her father had come back..—

Glancing up, she noticed a person standing there watching with a small amused smile, obviously the one that had rescued her from the dreary space she was just in, obviously not a vampire. Obviously not her father. She was sure her father would’ve come to get his daughter, so who was this? Though, as their eyes met, a shockwave shot through her, the feeling of being alive again was strong, flooding her veins and undead heart. This was her soulmate, she’d waiting thousands of years for this, but why was she so reluctant now? Reluctant to go with them- to trust them, but a part deep inside her knew this was right, she could get used to it. She could get used to them.

“Who are you?” Serana asks, finally having gained her composure. She looks this person up and down, analysing anything and everything she can see. It was clear they were a vampire hunter. Great.

“Who were you expecting?” They ask, almost amused as they watch the pretty vampire, crossing their arms in a similar way Serana was.

“Not my soulmate, that’s for sure.”

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ironwoman359 · 6 days ago

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Hard Answers - Ch. 1

A Truth Revealed

Ch.2: A Chance Taken || Ch.3: A Legacy Kept

A companion piece to A Thief's Gamble

Summary: An excerpt from the private journal of Ariene Anneius, Dragonborn and Guildmaster of the Thieves Guild, on the discovery of Mercer Frey’s betrayal and translation of Gallus Desidenius’s journal, preserved for historical purposes.

Author's Note: This story is a companion piece with A Thief's Gamble, taking place during chapters 13, 14, and 15 of that story, though it could technically be read as a standalone. It was important to the plot of ATG that these journal entries exist, but trying to insert them somewhere within that story itself was causing major issues with the flow and structure, so I decided to post them separately. On AO3, all fics with Ariene as the Dragonborn are under a series, which I'll probably eventually make a masterlist for here. I had a lot of fun writing from Ariene's perspective for a change, and can't wait to do so more in the future!

Check the Reblogs for an AO3 Link!

— — —

5th of Frostfall

I’ve never been the journaling type before, but after everything I’ve learned in the last two days, I find myself wanting to put pen to paper and document all that’s happened. Mercer thinks me dead, and I intend to use that to our advantage, but it’s still possible that we will be discovered. I am currently sitting in the basement room of the Frozen Hearth, writing in the book I usually use to keep track of marks, items of interest, and other odds and ends. As soon as Enthir returns with the supplies I’ve asked him to purchase on my behalf, I’ll be on the road to Markarth. I plan to leave this record behind with Enthir when I leave; if I am killed before we’re able to confront Mercer in front of the Guild, then my hope is that it will find its way into their hands.

If you are reading this, I ask that you not dismiss it as the mad ramblings of a traitor, but as a true account of what transpired between Mercer Frey, Karliah, and myself, Ariene Anneius, in Snow Veil Sanctum on the Third of Frostfall in the year 201 of the fourth era.

……

Mercer Frey and I set out from Riften several days ago to try and apprehend the thief Karliah at Snow Veil Sanctum. Karliah was said to have murdered the previous Guildmaster, and Mercer was determined to find her and deal out justice. We arrived at the Sanctum, and found a small camp set up outside with a horse tied to a tree. Certain that this meant Karliah was still in the Sanctum, Mercer killed the horse so she wouldn’t be able to escape, then instructed me to take the lead as we journeyed into the tomb.

Perhaps it is my hindsight clouding my memory, or perhaps it is because Mercer and I have never really gotten along, but even at the time I found this suspicious. At the very least, I thought it distasteful. When I suggested that, as he was a swordsman and I an archer, it may be more prudent for him to take the lead and for me to cover him from behind, he shouted obscenities at me until I agreed to do as he ordered. I had half a mind to just turn back and leave him to deal with Karliah on his own, but I knew if I did so, then I would no longer be welcome at the Guild. So, however reluctantly, I took point and led us into the catacombs.

Now, as I write this while nursing two near fatal wounds that have barely healed, I see why Mercer was so eager for me to take point.

Karliah shot me before I even saw her, and I realized that her arrows had been tipped with poison, because I immediately collapsed to the ground, unable to move or speak. Mercer had told me a story of something similar happening to him twenty years ago when Gallus was murdered, so I fully expected to die there, Mercer falling beside me with an arrow through his throat as the last sight I’d ever see.

But what I saw instead shook the foundations of what I thought I knew about the Guild and its history.

Mercer and Karliah spoke, and in their conversation, Karliah expressed nothing but admiration for the man Gallus had been and grief at his passing, while Mercer was cold and dismissive. One thing that Mercer said in particular, I have been holding in my mind, as to me it is almost more damning than the fact that he stabbed me not two minutes after saying it.

“Gallus had his wealth, and he had you. All he had to do was look the other way.”

The implications of his words chilled me more than the poison in my veins, and had I been able to move I may have turned and drawn my blade on him. But as I lay immobile, I could only watch as he bent over to taunt me before driving his sword into my stomach.

I fell into a darkness that I thought must have been death, though clearly I was wrong, as you’re now reading this account. After some time, I don’t know how long exactly, I found myself coming around, this time with Karliah standing over me.

It turned out that the poison on her arrow kept me from bleeding out, and when she was certain Mercer had left the sanctum, she came back to pull me from the ruins.

If nothing else will convince you the reader of Mercer’s guilt and Karliah’s innocence, let it be this:

Mercer tried to kill me, and Karliah saved my life.

Coming back to revive me was a risk, one that she was under no obligation to take, seeing as I was nothing but a stranger to her. But it’s one she took anyway, because she didn’t want to let me die. She’s definitely not telling me everything about what happened twenty years ago, but what she has told me, I believe is true, and I ask you to believe it as well.

Mercer killed Gallus. Of that I have no doubt. Gallus had a journal with him when he was murdered, and Karliah retrieved it from his remains before we left the sanctum. We hope it will provide enough details to help us prove the truth, but it’s written in the language of the Falmer and none of us can read it. Hence, my journey to Markarth. The court wizard Calcelmo is said to be an authority on the Falmer, and we’re hoping he can help us translate Gallus’s final words.

I’ve volunteered to be the one to go, since Mercer will no doubt be looking for Karliah again after failing to bring her down in the sanctum. I, however, am supposed to be dead, which makes me the perfect person to work against him undetected. Still, I’ll need to avoid discovery if at all possible, so I’ll be taking the longer route along the coast to Dawnstar, and from there traveling off the road as much as possible.

I’ve instructed Enthir to get this journal into the hands of one of the Guild lieutenants should he not hear back from me in over three weeks, so if you are reading this now, then I wasn’t able to return to him with a translation guide. It’s quite possible that I’ve died, either by Mercer’s hand or some other mishap, so as my last wish, I ask that you find out what Mercer is up to and put a stop to it, not only to avenge myself, but to avenge Gallus and Karliah for everything they suffered at his hands.

And if it is Brynjolf reading this, then I’m sorry we never got to have that drink. I hope you’ll toast to my memory when all is said and done.

Ariene Anneius

#skyrim #skyrim fanfiction #skyrim fic #the thieves guild #thieves guild fic #brynjolf #skyrim ldb #mercer frey #fanfic #fanfiction #ldb oc #imperial dragonborn #my writing #brynjolf x dragonborn #brynjolf x oc #slowburn

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