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itssuppertim3 · 3 years ago

Text

Lean (Miraak x Reader):

Contemplating on writing for Pyramid Head every once in a while since I can't get the thick bastard off my mind but we'll see what the future brings

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"Do you like winter, Miraak?" I asked the man strolling quietly beside me. "Not necessarily. However, I remember a time when I did. My temple always felt a bit warmer-- more enjoyable during that time." I snorted at him in amusement, to which he wasn't fond of. "I just imagined you stringing up holiday decor." He merely scoffed in denial, though we both knew it was true.

While searching for another conversation topic, my foot slid against the mud beneath me. "Careful," Miraak warned as his hands clasped firmly around my shoulders. My breath was trapped in my throat from the sudden startle, but somehow he only made it worse. Once my voice came back to me, I said, "uh...-- yeah. Thank you." Damn, his hands were so warm. I could feel the heat emitting from them even through my armor. Alas, the soothing feeling dissappeared as soon as he retracted his arms.

"Honestly, I'm surprised you hadn't already cracked your skull before I came along. It seems that you are always tripping and stumbling wherever you go." I scratched my cheek and chuckled sheepishly. "Ah, you know me so well."

"That is only because I stand witness to it," he uttered. We continued onward to Morthal in silence. A week ago, Jarl Idgrod sent me a letter of assistance; "potential murdurer on the loose," it had read. She noted that she wasn't one to fall victim to senseless gossip, but over the last several days she had been growing paranoid of the situation. Thus, she requested us to investigate. "I wonder why the jarl wants two dragonborn to take care of a killer instead of the guards? Gods, I feel like most of the soldiers are just using this pitiful war as an excuse to be lazy," I grumbled with my arms crossing.

"I agree. Though as far as I'm concerned, she wants you to handle it, not I." I perked up at his remark. "What do you mean? Everyone should know by now that you're just as powerful as I am. We've been traveling together for three months." Miraak diverted his gaze from me and pointed it straight ahead. "Perhaps, but you and I are still very different from one another. The people of Skyrim view you as a hero to be remembered for ages, whereas I will forever be remembered as a traitor-- if I was even remembered at all." The atmosphere around us suddenly became very dim. For a moment, the only noise that could be heard was the mire sloshing under our boots.

"That's bullshit," I retorted finally. Miraak was taken aback by my sudden change of attitude. "Excuse my language, but it is. Look at all of the good you've done since we've been together! We took down a vampire lord for crying out loud! And yeah, we weren't thanked for it or anything--"

"Y/n."

"But that doesn't matter. What does matter is that you put in a lot of effort to make the world safer, and I think that deserves respect."

"Y/n." By now, Miraak was no longer walking at my side. "What is it?" Before he was able to respond, the muddy ground had fallen loose beneath me and I plummeted into a brown socket of water. Oh yeah, I forgot that we were trudging through a swamp. The filth shot through my mouth and nose as I was completely sumberged. To make matters worse, the water was also incredibly frigid, making it even more difficult to sort through my panic. A pair of arms dove into the murk and proceeded to yank me up by my collar.

I gurgled, spluttered, and heaved strong breaths once I was dragged out of harm's way. Miraak shook his head at me all the while. I could practically feel the smirk hiding under his mask. "Oh, yeah. Real funny. Please continue... to remind me of how much... of a klutz I am," I rasped, still trying to flow air into my lungs. "I did try to warn you, you know. You were about to walk straight into the pond," the man defended. "Ok. I'll give you that." Miraak helped me to my feet after I finally regained my composure. "Oh, great," I sighed at the muck covering me head-to-toe. "I look so unprofessional." He skimmed over the grime coated over my outfit before scooping a clump of mud and smearing some over his robes. "I suppose we'll both have to look unprofessional, then." My cheeks tainted a dark pink at his actions, but I decided to blame it on the nip in the air.

My arms hugged my body when I started to shiver. Going for a dip in late autumn definitely wasn't the best of choices. Miraak scanned over the map and pinpointed our distance from Morthal. "We won't be able to arrive there before nightfall. We still have an hour left to go," he informed. I groaned to myself in reply. "Guess we'll have to make camp, then." He nodded, gesturing me to follow him.

In a matter of minutes, he had already secured a decent campfire and was now assembling the tent. Meanwhile, I was sitting on a nearby log with my bedroll enveloped around my trembling body. I was enjoying watching him, though. "I'd say you're a natural. When did you get so skilled at camping?" I inquired once he took a seat next to me. "By learning from you," he stated simply. Gods, how could he be such a jerk yet act so charming?! I avoided saying anything more and began scrubbing the dirt from my armor with a wet rag.

It was freezing, tonight. There was no comforting glow from the moon and stars due to the thick layer of clouds overhead, which only made it feel colder. I shuddered when a breeze travelled through the area and tormented my body. I was still wearing my undershirt and trousers, and even those were still damp. The cloth made my fingers sting the more I used it, until I felt Miraak's hand take ahold of my own. "Your fingers are red," were the only words that left his mouth before he grabbed my other hand and squeezed them both gently. I was so shocked by this that I couldn't even so much as blink. "Are you cold?" I had forgotten about the prickles climbing over my skin. "Um--uhh, kind of." How did my voice become so small?

Before I could protest, I was pulled closer to Miraak. And now that I left exposed, he felt even warmer than he did earlier. I wasn't even touching him! Not to mention how nice his hands felt. He was like a portable smelter! I stayed more silent than a moth as he continued to caress my fingers and palms. There was no telling what was going on inside of that brain of his.

"You may lean against me, if you like."

Oh.

Oh!

My heart was thrashing around inside of my chest. He wanted me to just... slide even closer and lean on him?! Just like that?! By now, my mind was spiraling in both confusion and embarrassment. Still, I was very cold. There wasn't any harm in doing it, right? He was the one who offered. I ultimately accepted his proposal.

It started off with our knees touching awkardly, and then with my head attempting to rest against his shoulder, which failed due to the golden scales protruding out from his sleeve and jabbing me in the side of the head. Miraak eventually lifted his arm, inviting me to scooch under it-- to which I did. As soon as I got situated, he let his hand ease onto my shoulder. I was so flustered that I could barely breathe. It was suffocating, practically unbearable, yet I only felt myself nestling further into him. "You're really warm," I mumbled.

Oh, dear.

Why on Nirn did I say that? I sounded like a pervert!!! What if he thought I was creepy?! My heart dropped as he held me still and turned to look at me. "Y/n, how do you feel?" It was made to be a question, but it sounded more of a demand. I sat tense for a long while, lips parted yet unmoving. "About...?" I gulped when he slowly placed my hand flat against his chest. I could feel his heart throbbing at a rapid pace, as was mine. "Me."

Miraak's voice was low and sounded on edge. Perhaps he was more nervous than I thought he was? My next movements were reckless. Recklessness seemed to be my only sense of courage, right now. I carefully drew his hand towards me and slipped off his glove. He didn't stop me, however his muscles twitched under my touch. I stared at his pale skin for a long while. It was decorated with veins and had a scar stretched over his knuckles. Thanks to the protection of his gloves, his fingernails were in prestine condition. In short, his hands were utterly glorious.

I tilted my face down and pressed my lips against his scar, leaving him breathless. "Does that answer your question?" I asked Miraak with a flushed grin. Without responding, he brushed his thumb over my cheek and felt the entirety of my features. His hand was so calloused and smoothe! I cupped my own against it, keeping it there for as long as possible. Once again, I was pulled into another embrace, this one being much tighter and affectionate. Neither of us decided to speak, and somehow it felt more befitting that way.

With my head resting against Miraak's chest, I could hear his heartbeat quite clearly. It was much slower compared to earlier, more soothing than anything. He wasn't very sure where to place his hands, so he kept one firm on my waist and the other rubbing my hair. Sure, my face was hotter than a bonfire and there was still panic fresh on my mind. Then again, I also felt so calm in his arms. This may have been the first time in my life where I actually felt normal. Everything around me simply fell into place. It was selfish of me to inwardly beg for this moment to never end. As a dragonborn, I had my responsibilites, but for now I kicked those responsibilities aside. I had the right to be selfish every now and then.

"Maybe I should go diving into swamps more often," I teased, breaking through the comfortbale silence. I felt my heart flutter in the midst of him vibrating a soft chuckle. "That would certainly be an entertaining idea. Though I might not get the same reaction from you each time." I peered up at my new love interest with a quirked brow. "What kind of reaction?" In one swift motion, Miraak nudged up his mask to his nose and blessed me with a kiss. It was quick and simple, hardly lingering over my lips in time for me to process it. It was as if I had just imagined it!

Even so, the blush stained on my cheeks was already spreading to my ears. This man was a complete menace. His mask was already tipped back down, but the coy smile he was holding was evident. "You bastard," I hissed. He only shrugged his shoulders at me. "If you fall into the swamp again, I may even give you another kiss," Miraak jested. I proceeded to whack his bicep.

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I bet Miraak got those plump ass lips :^3

#miraak #skyrim #elder scrolls #miraak x ldb #fdb #one shot #x reader #dragonborn dlc #tesblr #writeblr #dragon priest

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bitchwhoreofastorm · 3 years ago

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inspired by @vosh-rakh

"Aren't you in agony?" one of them had said to the other. "Isn't the pain unbearable? Don't you want to make it stop? Don't you want to stop existing, if only to escape it?" But, nature of this beast, they can't remember which one of them said it, or whether it matters at all.

His name is Ebonarm. Ebony for blood, arm for an action taken, things the parts of him once loved.

"He made this world for mortals," one of them had said, "And he loved mortality, so mortal we shall be.

"This world hates the presence of daedra," had said the other, "So we should revoke being daedra, if we mean to amputate ourselves."

So Ebonarm is mortal. He has a man's body and a beard the color of dried gore on a blade, and he wears his long hair in a ponytail on the top, though the sides of his head are shaved clean. "Reymon," he introduces himself in pubs along the road outside of Alinor, because it’s a good mortal’s name, and he likes the idea of being good and mortal, with a good mortal life.

"What if we become him again?" one of them had pondered, when they were still separate enough to ponder to each other. "What would we do in this new world?"

"Fight, I suppose," had said the other with a shrug, "Just as we always did, just as we always do."

So Reymon is an adventurer. Reymon roams and Reymon fights. He cuts down daedra, he prowls forests and embarks on quests as is the fashion amongst mortals, he slays monsters because he loves the slaying. Daedra come to dread and hate him, and he makes no friends in all the land, and he is accustomed to this.

"Aren't you ashamed?" one of them had said to the other. "How can you live covered in his blood?"

But some stains are bound to linger, and Ebonarm goes with black armor and black hands.

"Do you think I will be missed?" One of them asks, in Ebonarm's voice. There's come a lull in the fighting, and he sits within a forest meadow, not far from the road. He's resting his bare mortal feet in a cool still pond, fed by a small new spring trickling from an ancient fountain which someone had whimsically erected here long ago. His handsome head is bowed, his hair framing his face in a tangle, and his eyes, gleaming, reflected in the flat of the sword on his lap.

"Surely not," Ebonarm answers himself dismissively, "For who would ever miss me, and why? I am serving my purpose well enough here, but whose purpose ought I serve in the first place? The world can get along fine without me." He drags his hand along the edge of the blade, cleaning away dust with his palm, a habit he’s had for longer than he’s been alive. "Surely this guilt means nothing-- what have I to be guilty of! I have done well by fighting Daedra, that is a great service. And why else-- why shouldn't I continue to exist like this, as long as I please?"

"Because it is merciless," answers a voice from behind him. "Because it is wrong."

Ebonheart does not turn to greet Stendarr. So absorbed in himself as he is, he’s hardly noticed Stendarr’s being there at all.

"Ah, brother!,” he says nonetheless. “How long have you been there?"

"I've been following you from the start." Stendarr's voice is sonorous, sorrowful, and when he steps forwards his steel footsteps are heavy as a sin. "I've come to stop this, for the sake of justice."

"What is that word?" asks Ebonarm. "Justice? Ah, I've heard it in tales. But what injustice, brother, have I committed against you?"

"Not against me." And Stendarr is a great powerful shape in the reflection. "Against each other."

"Each other, Stendarr! To whom do you refer? Myself and my blade, perhaps?" Ebonarm lets loose a jolly laugh. "What injustice have I dealt upon my blade?"

"Trinimac. Boethiah. Enough."

"So it's my armor I've wrought injustice upon?"

Stendarr takes another heavy step forwards, hammer in his hands. "I've heard them call you Ebonarm," he says. "I know why you chose that name. Boethiah wore his blood like grief, and Trinimac, that blackened sword..."

"Then you understand everything."

"... But that's not his blood you wear. It is yours. This is a mockery of his will. Lorkhan wanted us to heal, and here you are gouging into each other for the pleasure of being wounded."

"What mockery!" Ebonarm laughs, feet still in the water. "Shut up. Shut up, you brute. Why are you here, you who didn't lift a hand to save him-- why do you pretend at caring, when you hated-- or were we friends? But what silliness, Stendarr! What is all of this?"

Stendarr raises his hammer. "Mephala sent me, but I do this out of my own pity."

"I do not want your pity, and what do you know of Lorkhan? And stop speaking to me. My name is Reymon. Why are you my enemy, ought we not fight together? But I do not--"

"Remember, I did not want to break you!"

"I want--"

But with Reymon's bare feet dangling still in the water and the blade heavy on his lap, Stendarr moves too swiftly to evade, and the hammer shatters their back.

There is no fight.

There is no him.

There is mossy green light when Boethiah wakes, drenched and shivering, hoisted from the spring. Stendarr's hand is gentle on her forehead, the ebony mail clings as always to her skin, but she feels raw and bruised, bleeding and empty as a cavern, pathetic as she coughs up water against a steel plate.

"He's gone," Stendarr promises, in an apologetic voice. "He fled the moment--"

"Shut up," Boethiah hisses, pushing away his hand. On Nirn they are all corporeal, a disgusting sensation, and the grass she's resting on is hideously soft. She pushes herself to her knees, pushes soggy hair from her eyes, touches her chin and presses nails into the skin of her lips. "Just, shut up. Why did you do that? ... Did Mephala really send you?"

Stendarr is silent for a long time.

"Stop shutting up, then! Since when do you take orders from a Daedric--"

"I came of my own volition," Stendarr admits sheepishly.

Boethiah stares at him.

"I loathe to see him hurt you," says Stendarr. "I loathe to see the strong harm the weak--"

"The weak!" Boethiah shouts, leaping to her feet. "The weak, Stendarr! You worm! You hag! I'll-- I swear, I'll--"

"I'm sorry!" Stendarr shouts, also rising to his feet. "I wanted to protect you!"

"Fetch your protection! You loathsome wretch! You abomination upon Lorkhan's dream, I-- no, shut up! How dare you laugh at me! How dare!"

Because Stendarr, indeed, has begun to laugh, clear and jolly as Boethiah tries to strike him.

"I'm glad you're back," says the stupid, gullible, smiling Stendarr. "I'm very glad you're back. What would this world have been without you?"

And Boethiah can only ram her fist against his chest-plate, ashamed to think that, not long ago, she'd agreed to forsake her existence at all.

#fic

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reachfolk · 3 years ago

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1-5 for the character development questions for Alexandria!

💛 from @korvanjund

this took forever to write cause of course i had waY too much to say omfl, but it was super fun!! tysm for the ask darlin <3

what (or who) would your character die for? live for?

family, family, family!! literally everything for alexi goes back to family. she may be on bad terms with her father's side (understatement of the century, but that's for question 3 lmao), but she would do literally anything for her siblings. protecting them is the main reason she's willing to overcome every fear in her fight against alduin. of course, she's also just as close with her aunt ursula. and she may have... a complicated relationship with her mother and father, she loves them and would do anything to keep them safe.

as for what she'd die for, she's just as dedicated to the cause of freeing the reach from nord control as most reachfolk. it's largely because she sees the reachfolk as an extension of her family. the reach is her home and she's so unabashedly proud of that. granted, she isn't as extreme in her views as the forsworn, but we're not gonna get into the highkey racism in the way bethesda wrote that whole faction lmao.

who (or what) does your character love most in the world? why?

this is such a hard question to answer cause like *slaps roof of alexi* this sweet girl can fit so much love in her. if she like, absolutely HAD to pick a handful of people, it would be her siblings (no, she couldn't pick between them even with a gun to her head, and tbh neither could they). i could literally go on for HOURS about her siblings and why they're all so close, but the tldr is that they're really the only people in the world that Get her. their social standing has always been in a really precarious place given how drastically different their mother and father's backgrounds are, and so they never particularly fit in with most kids from their social class. but they also didn't get very much of a chance to connect with their reachfolk heritage. i won't go so far as to call them outcasts, but they were definitely seen as... different, and there weren't many opportunities for them to feel like normal kids except for when they were with each other. but the other people alexandria is closest to are her aunt ursula, bothela (vanilla npc, the lady who runs the hag's cure), and ophelia from her coven.

that covers it for people, but the thing she loves most in the world is easily alchemy! it literally shows in every part of her mannerisms and shapes the whole way she looks at the world. a huge part of why she's so connected to namira is because she's so drawn to even the most grotesque things in the world, because there's opportunity in all of them to create something new and helpful. it's why she got so close to bothela, bc she's the one that trained alexi in alchemy since she was a kid.

who (or what) does your character hate most in the world? why?

this is ironic considering the first question but literally it's her uncles, thonar and thongvor silver-blood lol. i'm sure anyone who's been in markarth knows that they aren't exactly stand up dudes, but after the whole issue with the forsworn conspiracy came out, she probably had to be physically restrained by her companions to keep her from killing them then and there. she spent a huge part of her childhood knowing there was a target on her back and the backs of her parents and siblings, because there's nothing thonar and thongvor want more than to get rid of them entirely. despite the fact that she had such a fancy upbringing, her uncles were the reason none of them were ever given a real chance to rest. and then there's sooo much to say about how that exacerbated isobel's anxiety issues, which all of her kids including alexi later inherited. alexi literally carries that pain in her genes and she's never been able to get away from it no matter how hard she's tried.

again, this is one of those things i could talk about for ages, so if u wanna hear about one of the many times her uncles actively made an attempt on the lives of her parents and siblings, feel free to send me an ask abt it i'll happily tell u everything. there's like a 30k fic idea there but i have the gist of it all written in my drafts lol.

on top of all of that, she definitely has a LOT of issues with everything they do in the reach. like, ulfric stormcloak gets an honorary mention for this question, and the fact that they support him sure as fuck doesn't help. and considering the fact that she's been sent to cidhna mine and often helped out in the warrens, she's seen the worst of what the silver-bloods did to her people.

what is your character's main goal? does this goal change, or does it remain consistent throughout the story?

tbh this one is also hard to answer bc the game devs of bethesda are COWARDS and they didn't give us this option in the game even though all the pieces were there, but i feel like alexi would almost inevitably join the rebellion to liberate the reach. when she left home, she was still trying to make sense of things, and she just needed to put some distance between herself and all the things tearing her in different directions. she'd spent so much of her life trying to placate everyone that she couldn't figure out what her goal is until she was in a place where she didn't have to think about everyone else.

but no matter what, i think all roads lead to home for her. she may have had a strained relationship with the forsworn (esp when madanach was in prison and working for her uncles in secret), but she'd join when madanach is given free reign to control the rebellion as he sees fit rather than have to bend backwards to satisfy thonar. i personally hc that after that, the forsworn's actions are more controlled and they start to operate less like a disjointed faction of bandits and more like, yknow, people fighting for an actual cause. once she rebuilds her faith in the rebellion, she'd definitely join up.

does your character achieve their main goal? if so, does achieving this goal satisfy them?

again, hard to say since there's no in-game way for this to happen bc the devs were weak, BUT in my heart of hearts i like to pretend that there was a proper questline where u join up with madanach and retake the reach. after everything they've been through, i really hope it'll be canon that they finally are able to liberate themselves. i do think alexandria and her siblings would all do their part to help the rebellion, and their auntie was probably a proponent of the forsworn's rule during the great war, so they're in the clear. i'd imagine the situation is more complicated with their parents.

regardless of whether or not the forsworn are ever able to retake the reach, alexi definitely spends most of her life running around skyrim with the hope of fighting against people's prejudices against the reachfolk. (in the verse where she's the ldb) she kind of understands her role as an essential figurehead to the movement and how she's key to earning the nord's respect. i mean, it'd be hard to argue that they're evil savages when one of their own literally saved every single mortal soul on nirn. so, yeah, i think she feels pretty satisfied with that lol

#tes #tesblr #cozy answers #oc: alexandria silver blood #can u tell i get overly excited to talk about lexi??#skyrim oc #reachfolk

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hermaeusmorasuggestion · 4 years ago

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Selection From the Registry of Misdirected Prayers

Date: 1E 707

Prayer in full:

O Master of Mysteries,

In pursuit of knowledge I delve into the ruins of Arkngthunch-Sturdumz in three days’ time. I ask Your blessing and Your protection as I seek to uncover the fate of our erstwhile foolish kin, the Dwemer, and perhaps even return with some of their technology so that it might be repurposed in Your name.

I remain Your humble servant, Relyn Omaren

Response: After some deliberation, it was decided that not forwarding this wouldn’t look good for either of us. Successfully redirected.

Addendum: Uuuugggghhhhh. One of the first of many Dwemeriphiles to come, but they were genuinely in it for the knowledge so I couldn’t just let their plea go unanswered, could I? Of course the Tribunal was still getting their footing with the whole godhood thing- I understand the onslaught of an entire land’s wishes and curses can be somewhat of a hassle to take in for the first century or so- so just this once I stepped in instead. Much to the chagrin of my patron.

Relyn didn’t find the answer they were looking for, but they got out alive, which was frankly way harder for me than it should’ve been. How many booby-traps does one ruin need!??!?!! Sometimes I think the Dwemer did it all just to vex me, specifically.

Date: 1E 1105

Prayer in full:

Grandfather,

I’m Vashi but You know that. Where is Goggie? I can’t sleep if she’s not there. Thank you, I love you!

Response: Successfully redirected.

Addendum: Goggie the stuffed guar had been temporarily misplaced at the nearby temple. An easy enough fix, if a bit awkward being caught in the act of returning it and mistaken for an Acolyte, but I was definitely in the area anyway so it wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t a big deal! The kid was five years old and it wasn’t a big deal that he thought I followed another god- someone is just possessive and making a big deal out of what was, decidedly and objectively, not a big deal.

Date: 1E 2704

Prayer in full:

I know that we will be protected, so I don’t pray to ask for reassurance of that. I know that I am in Your sight, both as a student and as a child of Morrowind, and no matter my heritage this is true; I don’t pray to ask for reassurance of this either. But this has been a tumultuous time, and I find myself questioning things... You have taught me that a question is no evil thing, and yet I am full of fear. I do not know what I am afraid of, exactly, but I pray that You grant me the clarity to understand my emotions. I know that my body is a gift, so why does it fill me with such disdain? I know that I love my parents, so why does it pain me to be called their daughter? Please grant me your wisdom.

Response: Successfully redirected.

Addendum: As is typical for this kind of thing, this actually ended up being taken on by one of Vivec’s faithful instead. Only Armigers that are trained in restoration (including alchemy), illusion, or alteration are allowed to act as these Counsellors for people during their transition, so even though it had to wait until after the invasion had been... taken care of, Indaenir got the guidance they needed.

Date: 2E 322

Prayer in full:

O Lover of Learning! O Great Teacher! O Musical Mystic, lend me Your insight.

Our final Alteration exam is in less than twelve hours and I- I admit, it was a personal failing, I wasn’t paying attention, but I can’t stand the thought of being sent home, I can’t go back to that life! Please, help me to learn all that I should’ve, I promise I’ll study, really study, from here on out. Please help me.

Response: Not redirected.

Addendum: Seems someone isn’t as straight a follower of the Divines as they’d like to think they are, if their prayer ended up heard here! Followers of the Tribunal can be excused the mixup, but this was an Imperial. Any scrap of curiosity or hunger for more than what they’re taught is something It can latch onto, and it looks like the- admittedly pretty bland- lower-level courses taught at the local Mage’s Guild weren’t to Ser Herennius’ standards of interest.

Took the poor thing out for a meal after he inevitably failed his exam and gave the usual offer. Should be joining us within the week.

Date: 2E 543

Prayer in full:

O Lord of Memory,

Hear my prayer! I have lost no don’t tell him you lost it fool a true Telvanni never admits something like that ahem.

Hear my prayer! My family’s ancestral tome of spells has been stolen. I seek Your guidance in discerning its location, as it has been hidden from me- no doubt by a foul practitioner of Daedra worship seeking to bring about the ruin of all Morrowind! I beseech You, aid me in finding this relic so I am not yelled at no don’t say that either what are you an infant?

I beseech you, aid me in finding this relic so my ancestors can know peace.

Response: Successfully redirected, after taking care of the “stolen tome” problem myself. It was under his bed.

Addendum: I hope Ser Fodros doesn’t mind that I copied down some of the recipes in that ‘tome of spells’- his grandfather’s take on a Clockwork Citrus Fillet was just too good to pass up. The cute little gear-shaped lemon slices were a frankly inspired idea.

Date: 2E 583

Prayer in full:

Soul of Scholars,

[Does Adahni do this correctly? Well, only one way to know.

This one has long been curious of your realm, a supposed haven for those who wish to learn the secrets of Nirn and beyond. Adahni comes to Morrowind seeking like-minded scholars only to find close-minded bigots. Adahni wishes this is not all there is to the land of the Temple her friend talked so highly of, but they look at her in a way she does not like very much. They think she does not understand their language, but unfortunately Adahni knows too well the words that paint her as an object, no matter the language.

If you truly do care for all those who want to learn, it is no matter now if you accept Adahni into your realm or not. Only, help her to continue being free, free to learn and study as she likes.]

Response: Successfully redirected.

Addendum: The last I saw her, Adahni and her wife were busy studying Aetherial botany or something? It all went over my head but the two Proctors seemed happy enough.

Date: 3E 430

Prayer in full:

Dear Light of Knowledge,

I used your fancy name so I'm sure you get my question since this is very important. Alma is very sad I think since Ata was in your City when You left and we can't take a carriage to him. Alma doesn’t know I know she's sad, but I know she is because she looks like Kelina when he wakes me up at night because he is crying in his crib, but that's okay because I learned how to cast Magelight to make him not cry. How do I make Alma not cry?

Very sincerely, Kalini Dreth

Response: Unable to redirect prayer.

#hermaeus mora #sotha sil #tes #the elder scrolls #I was feeling nostalgic :(#📗

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ongoingaccident-deleted · 5 years ago

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Martin Mantles Sanguine

So inspired by this absolutely gorgeous artwork and someone’s tags that I cannot for the life of me find (if they were your tags please let me know, I’d love to properly thank you for inspiring me) saying something along the lines of “what if Martin had to mantle Sanguine before the end of the main quest?” I have written some garbage start to a longer story based on that premise. Full thing under the cut! :) It is completely unedited as of now, so I apologize for any mistakes and would like to thank you for reading in advance!

It was the night before they were to head to the Imperial City and see Martin crowned when she had the dream. It was... odd, to say the least, for someone who rarely dreamed to have one that was so very vivid, but even more odd was the content.

When she looked down, Adelaide realized she was not on Nirn anymore - instead, she was in some glowing plane of reality that seemed to have no beginning and no end. The strangest part, however, was the flaming dragon before her, and it got stranger still when the dragon began to speak.

“Adelaide Darrell, the one they call the Hero of Kvatch, know me for who I am.” The fiery creature spoke with a voice that she thought could move mountains or dig canyons. She wasn’t sure if the visceral feeling it left in her gut was terror or awe. “I am Akatosh, and I require your obedience.” That would explain the booming voice and the dragon and the glowing realm. Best to hear him out, then - not that she seemed to have much of a choice. “You are too late. As we speak, the armies of Mehrunes Dagon march on the Imperial City. He will arrive in Tamriel before you can light the Dragonfires, and you cannot fight him as you are.”

This whole thing had gone very quickly from a really interesting dream to a concerningly realistic nightmare. Adelaide tried not to let the fact that she was speaking to one of her gods intimidate her too much. “What should I do?”

The dragon let out a puff of air that could have been exasperation or amusement. She wasn’t sure which option concerned her more. “There is a portal in the middle of the Niben Bay. You must enter it and become something more than yourself. Only a god can defeat another god.”

It seemed that the stereotype of divine beings being infuriatingly cryptic was correct after all. “What about Tamriel? What will become of it while I’m gone?”

Akatosh eyed her, and again Adelaide failed to discern whether it was with approval or distaste. “Time in Oblivion passes differently than it does in Mundus. No Nirn time will pass while you are gone. But you must be swift. Obey me, or Tamriel will fall.” Before she could say anything else - before she could think anything else - he was gone.

For an instant, everything went black and she had the oddest sensation of free-falling through space before she woke with a jolt. She had taken to sleeping on the floor of Martin’s quarters when she was at the temple, but they were as dark as they had been when she went to sleep.

Adelaide breathed heavily for a moment as she tried to think what to do - that had been too clear a dream to ignore outright - when Martin also awoke with a muffled noise.

She was on her feet and at his side in an instant, but the look he gave her as he sat up did little to calm her nerves. “You’ll never believe the dream I had,” he said lightly, but his voice was stiff and she knew he was more troubled than his words implied.

Adelaide met his eyes, and with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, knew with frightening certainty what his dream had been like. “He came to you too, then,” she whispered. “It was no dream.”

Martin took one of her hands in his and gripped it tightly, and for a moment they stood there in silence before he spoke. “He did. We should go.” But he didn’t move to stand or leave.

Adelaide squeezed back before gently (oh so gently, she could never risk hurting him) pulling hers away and picking her cuirass up off of the floor. “It will be all right. I do not know what this journey shall bring, but we will have one another. But we cannot wait. The situation is dire.”

Martin sighed softly as he stood. “I don’t think we will be together, but you’re correct. We cannot tarry.”

He padded over to his wardrobe as she froze in between straps of her gauntlets. “What do you mean? You aren’t coming to the Niben Bay?”

Martin removed his plain grey priest robe as he shook his head. “I am heading to the Imperial Reserve, north of Skingrad.” His voice was tight, but she wasn’t sure why. Certainly the situation was stressful and sudden and far from ideal, but she got the feeling that there was a memory bothering him.

“Are you all right?” she asked suddenly, pulling up one of her sabatons. But Martin shook his head again as he began to dress and she turned her eyes away.

“I am fine, but it is no matter. You are correct. We cannot delay. We must obey Akatosh.” He was lying and she could tell, but Adelaide didn’t press the issue. As with everything else, Martin would tell her when he felt ready.

They finished their preparations in silence before heading toward the stables. Jauffre was sitting alone in the great hall, and started when he saw them. “Where are you going? We aren’t leaving until the morning.”

Adelaide hesitated, unsure of what to say, but Martin answered for them. “We have been given a task we must complete. We will meet you in the Imperial City tomorrow.” She could tell that Jauffre was distinctly displeased with the idea, but Martin’s tone brokered no argument. The grandmaster tried anyway.

“It isn’t safe, sire. Please at least take an escort if you must leave.”

But Martin shook his head. “We must leave immediately, and we must go alone. Please, my friend, we can waste time no longer.”

Adelaide could pinpoint the exact moment at which Jauffre relented. His eyes dropped and his shoulders sagged as he heaved a deep sigh. “Very well. Do what you must. We will be waiting for you. Gods-speed, sire.”

Martin took the older man’s hands in his and smiled gently. “Thank you, Jauffre.”

Adelaide tried not to think too hard about what would happen if they didn’t succeed - that was irrelevant, now. They would win, or they would die, and so would everyone else.

She and Martin saddled and mounted their horses quietly. Any attempts at small-talk died quickly - they had become very close over the last few weeks, but the situation was too serious for them to distract themselves with idle conversation. Their ride, too, was quiet and tense as they listened for bandits or cultists or worse. But as tense as it was, the end was more difficult still.

Adelaide clasped Martin’s arm gently as he turned his horse toward the hills. “Be safe.” She hesitated a moment before continuing. “I do not know what Akatosh asked of you or why it torments you so, but you can overcome this.” She swallowed heavily and didn’t meet his eyes. “I will see you soon.”

But before she could turn away, Martin pulled her into an awkwardly positioned almost-embrace. “Thank you, Adelaide. For everything. Stay safe, and we will meet again soon.” Despite her discomfort, she held him until he pulled away.

“Until then, Martin.” And despite every instinct she had screaming at her to ride with him, to help him, to protect her emperor from the dangers that were assuredly ahead, she turned her horse down the road and continued to ride.

Thankfully, it was only another two hours’ ride to the bay, and the time passed uneventfully. (Akatosh’s protection? Perhaps.)

As Adelaide approached the gates to Bravil, she could make out a distant, shining object in the center of the bay. Whatever Akatosh had been telling her of, no doubt. With a slight sigh, she dismounted and loosely looped Antinea’s reins around a tree next to the stables. “I’ll return soon,” she told the horse. “If there’s danger, run.”

With that, she waded into the bay, intensely grateful that she was a strong swimmer. The glowing object in the center of the bay was far, but not unreachable, and became clearer the closer she got. As she approached, Adelaide realized it was actually an island with a portal in the center.

Her blood chilled when she heard the voice commanding her to enter - Akatosh had sent her to a Daedra. (Martin too, most likely - an even more concerning thought.) But she was nothing if not loyal, and after a moment to steel herself, she stepped into the door.

Later, Adelaide would swear she had spent weeks inside the glowing door. But to any outside observers, she had only just entered the portal when Sheogorath emerged, tilted her head slightly, and laughed.

A moment later, she shook her head as if to clear it and stood up straight, looking completely changed from a few seconds before. A staff topped with a rolling eyeball appeared in her hand for a moment before it disappeared again as she turned her gaze toward the Imperial City.

A storm was rolling in.

That’s all I have for now, but I’ve been on a roll writing this and have already started the next part, so if people are interested I’ll probably put that up too! Thank you for reading and I really hope you enjoyed! :D

#tes #elder scrolls #oblivion #martin septim #adelaide darrell #jauffre #he shows up #i am really not a good enough writer to give this idea the justice it deserves #cat writes #cat says things #cat queued #cat is a mess oops #hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!!!#really appreciate it :D #ahhh putting writing on the internet makes me nervous #cat is absurd #don't listen to me #my tags are a mess lmao #martin mantles sanguine

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airiat · 5 years ago

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Find the Word Tag Game

rules: find the four words in your writing, and then pick four more that other people need to find in theirs.

tagged by: @curiousartemis & @that-nordic-bish

tagging: @doomedteaparty @hircines-meatloaf @ash-yam-stew @aetheriumity @diamond-loki (and anyone else who wants to!)

my words (combining the ones from each person i was tagged by): smirked, laughed, smiled, confused, fury, shock, soft, kiss

words for you: beautiful, hurt(s), touch(ed), quiet

*might be sneaky and include these words even if they’re modified (ie: softly, laugh) because i write in present tense*

pulling from my WIP fic Lead Me Not into Temptation and my WIP short story Windrime (not yet posted).

content warning: mild NSFW and then straight up smut at the end

this is a looooong one, fellas. strap in 👇

smirk(ed)(s):

LMNIT:

At this, he smirks in the way I have begun to associate with his inflated sense of self. “I would’ve, had you just asked.”

“Not afraid, are we?” he asks, and though his face is obscured by his helmet, I can still sense the smirk he wears behind it. “The temple’s at the top of this next hill.”

She nods and leaves for the main hall of her home. When she’s gone, Teldryn walks over to the fireplace in the corner of the room and tosses another log into it. Almost as if the fire reminds me of the surely frigid temperature outside, I pick up a fur from the bed and wrap it around my shoulders. My eyes drift to watch him as he prods the fire. The spell of Calm he used on me was incredibly effective--I cannot recall a time when I was as at ease as I am now. Eventually, he notices my gaze, and that smirk of his appears.

His smirk takes on a devious edge. “That was a very strong spell I used on you. It often has the unfortunate--or fortunate--side effect of behaving like a truth serum.”

Windrime: n/a

laugh(ed)(s):

LMNIT:

“This makes mead seem like cow’s milk,” I say after a moment. He laughs and moves to refill my mug, but I hold a hand out to stop him. “Unfortunately, I find myself on your island for business, not pleasure.”

I let out a loud laugh, and I see the Dunmer at the fireplace startle at the sound of it. The grin on the face of this mercenary touches every feature now. He knows the game I’m playing at.

Teldryn laughs. “Nords really do have such absurd tales. That can’t be poss-,” he starts to say, but I interrupt him.

“Duck!” I shout, fabricating a ward spell in front of us. Barely a moment later, a swarm of darts dripping with poison comes pelting into the ward. My magicka is resilient enough to hold them off, and they rain to the ground after making contact. The assault lasts all of seconds, but adrenaline now rushes through my veins. When I am certain it is over, I release my spell and stand. From behind me, Teldryn begins laughing, though I fail to find anything humorous about the situation. I then hear Frea scold him with motherly disapproval and he immediately ceases.

"Who are you to dare set foot here?” Miraak questions, sizing me up as I remain on my knees at his feet. “Ahh... You are Dovahkiin. I can feel it. And yet, you have never slain a dragon.” He laughs with cruel humor. “You have no idea of the true power a Dragonborn can wield! Mul Qah Div!” He Shouts, and from his body materializes the form of a dragon’s natural armor, but translucent and glowing orange like embers.

I cannot help but to laugh at the way their dynamic has taken shape; Teldryn, the tactless, excitable child, and Frea, the weary mother who constantly has to correct his poor social graces.

“See?” Teldryn says, motioning to my laughter. “I’m a halfway decent mage--she’s fine.”

I risk a light laugh as the dagger leaves my neck. “Here in the flesh.”

“...you mean a dragon? Are you serious?” he pauses to let out a laugh, and my eyes snap open in anger, bracing for another fight with him. “Do you not even realize the power you have within you?”

I snort with laughter. “Now that’s something I’d pay a few septims to see.”

Windrime:

I must laugh at the nature of his inquiry. How unlike him it is to speak with even a semblance of romance. Perhaps he feels the gravity of tomorrow, too. “Surely I cannot contend with something that is divine in its creation,” I respond.

I know not my reason for asking this question, only that it was pieced together from the fabric of my mental exhaustion. Teldryn laughs. “Alright,” he says. “I think it’s more than time for you to rest.”

I bristled at his words. “Protect me?” I laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Have you forgotten who I am? I can force my enemy to their knees faster than you could draw your sword. If loving me is a burden, then I release you from it. I have no further need of you, Teldryn.”

“By the Eight,” I say, laughing against his lips. “Your breath is rank.”

“Not today, my friend,” I say, laughing as I lure him away from the area with an irresistible shake of a tankard before dumping it in a clearing in the grass for him. Then, I return to Kalina who grazes serenely near our tent without even a hint of attention paid to the unguarded feed bag.

smile(d)(s):

LMNIT:

“I wouldn’t dare think anything else,” he says with the hint of a smile. "Teldryn Sero: the best swordsman in all Morrowind is at your service . . . for the right price.”

“Five thousand septims,” he answers, the smile spreading to both sides of his mouth.

“Sure thing, friend,” he says with a smile casually thrown back at me as he begins to walk forward, resuming his earlier path.

I pause for a moment, not having anticipated the enthusiasm he reacted with. Instead, when I look into his face, I can see that his excitement is earnest; in fact, he radiates it. His smile is wide and toothy, and he practically bounces on the balls of his feet—the picture of a child waiting with anticipation to open gifts on Saturalia. It’s almost as if he has suddenly been given renewed purpose in his life.

Teldryn nods and Frea smiles, both in encouragement. I take a deep breath and push the door open. It groans on its ancient hinges and a cloud of dust rushes forth at me, but I step inside.

Teldryn then comes to stand next to me, and Frea in back of us. Teldryn and I lock eyes. He smiles, waving his hand with a flourish as if to say “they’re all yours.”

[NSFW]

He reaches over and brushes his fingertips between my legs to silence me. When I startle at his touch, the humor in his smile morphs into something more wicked. “You’ll just have to wait,” he purrs.

“I look just like a Nord now,” Teldryn proclaims, his smile wide.

“I beg to differ,” I say, putting aside my notebook. “Though if you covered your face...”

“Always so serious you are,” he says, smile turning coy. “Besides, wouldn’t that be doing you a disservice?”

I want to finally speak my gratitude to her, but the front door opens and Teldryn comes bursting through with an exasperated groan as chunks of snow come tumbling off his coat and boots. I glare mercilessly at him as he pushes back his hood and runs his hands through the mohawk that has gone flat on his head. He catches my eye through my stare and smiles at me as if he were oblivious to the venom in my expression. When he shakes his head wearing the same bemused look that he’s given me so many times before, however, I know that he’s just choosing to ignore it. After he too has removed his coat, he comes over to the fire, taking the seat directly next to mine. I lean away from his closeness, but he doesn’t seem to notice, and even if he does, he’s unbothered by it.

“It was no trouble at all. I love a good fight,” I say. She smiles in agreement--a woman after my own heart. Fjoara never seemed to want to crack a few skulls if she could avoid it. “I apologize for disturbing you. I didn’t think anyone would be here.”

Windrime:

“Mm, nothing, love,” I murmur, soothed once again by his touch. I turn to face him, wrapping my arms around his neck and burying my face into it. Teldryn sighs, trading his concern for contentment as his hands slide around my back to hold me. I smile against his skin before pressing my lips to it, pulling him closer to me still.

“Hi there, my beautiful girl,” I coo, pouring out a little feed into my hand for her. She raises her head and dips her muzzle into my palm. I smile and run my fingers through the black strands of her mane while she eats.

“Perhaps I should have,” I retort, barely able to hold back my smile. “That with all your complaining.”

confuse(s)(d):

LMNIT:

While I wait as Teldryn takes Frea to show her where she can stash her gear, it occurs to me that if I am to pose as a prisoner, I should not have Dawnbreaker with me. I am confident enough in my skill with magic, so protection is not my concern, it’s that I cannot even fathom the idea of anything happening to it. This sword is the only tangible testament to my accomplishments, and what would be left of me if I were to lose it? When my companions return, I have unstrapped the scabbard containing it from my body and clutch it in my hands. They notice what I’ve done and look at me with confused expressions.

As I consider the possibilities, each grimmer than the next, my mind clouds with worry. However, when I see his knapsack sitting atop a chest and his chitin armor hanging on a rack in the back of the main hall, I feel it dissipate. He would, of course, take his belongings with him if he were to leave my service. I confuse myself with the attention I now pay to his presence. Surely it would not be a loss if I were to no longer have it, especially when I have such a valuable companion in Frea.

Windrime: n/a

fury:

it’s not in either piece! only mild rage allowed i guess

shock(ed):

LMNIT:

I am shocked by the implausibility. A construction of this magnitude should have taken many years to complete, not mere months. The implications of this conjure deeper dread inside me. What otherworldly forces had reached their hand into Nirn?

Frea and I are frozen silent by our shock, but she is fast to recover, returning to me and bending down to retrieve my plate of food from the floor. A shell of myself, she guides me back to my seat and places the plate in my lap. She then takes the place next to me that Teldryn once occupied seemingly only moments ago. I cannot eat in fear of being unable to swallow, nor can I bear to process what just happened, so my eyes wander to seek a distraction. They dart from the fire to the ceiling, then glimpse the bed where… Finally, they are drawn to the back of the room, and I realize that his armor is still hanging from the rack. He’d left it behind. Could that mean…? No, surely not. It was nothing more than a consolation prize, a reparation, to make up for what I had just lost.

Windrime: n/a

soft(ly)(ens):

LMNIT:

[NSFWish]

The fire is so warm at my back, and it fills the room with a soft light that casts alluring shadows over his body. I hadn’t previously thought much of the tattoos that trace around his cheekbones and run down the center of his bottom lip, but I now see them as a wildness that makes me want him even more. As I look into his eyes which mirror what I’m feeling inside me, I realize there is nothing I need more in this moment than to feel his hands on me.

I push aside the furs covering my body and swing my legs over the side of the bed, but do not get up. As I sit there, my eyes are led to the window where I can see that it is snowing softly outside. It makes my heart ache for home. I know I have not been on Solstheim for very long at all, but it was never my desire to come here in the first place. I had done so out of obligation, knowing that this journey is part of my fate.

As I wait for her, I sit on the edge of the bed, running my hand absently over the soft brown fur that lines the inside of the coat. It must be bear pelt, so quite warm indeed. Frea reappears a minute later with my backpack, Dawnbreaker, and the Aetherial Crown. In the chaos of last night, I had forgotten all about my sword, so when Frea gives my things to me, I immediately unsheathe it to check that it is indeed still intact.

Her ferocity outshines both of ours combined, and we immediately sober. Frea’s hand softens on my arm, and she takes her other off Teldryn. I don’t look at him, don’t speak to him, and he doesn’t me, but our shared embarrassment hangs heavy in the air. I notice suddenly that my hands are now empty, and I find that my plate had fallen to the floor sometime in the midst of my rage. Most of the food still remains on it, but the sight is still salt in my wounds. I hear Teldryn quietly backing away from us and I look up to see his downcast eyes and the way he cradles the hand against his chest that only seconds ago held an intent to harm.

“Yeah, Fjoara’s…” I can feel my voice soften when I say her name, so I immediately break off the sentence. “I hope she’s able to help you, but I won’t be around to see it. I’m headed back to Raven Rock in the morning.”

[NSFWish]

Then, after what happened last night, things took a turn for the worse when my care for her became muddled with attraction. I never could have dreamed I’d feel desire for a Nord. She is beautiful in a way that a Dunmer woman couldn’t compare to with her bright winter-blue eyes and the litheness of her body in all its soft curves almost too delicate for the power she has within her. There is a growing need within me to provide for her and ensure her safety, though I know she is capable of doing these things for herself. I truly have nothing to offer that she doesn’t already possess. Her wealth appears limitless, guidance and accommodation are given readily just because of who she is, and her abilities in combat dwarf my own—a spellsword, like me, but in combination with that fucking voice of hers, she’s a lethal weapon. What does that leave me with, then? Sex? No. I’m a sword for hire, not a, well…

They are there carved into the side of a mountain, the stone of their structure crumbled and softened by the passing of millennia. There is no dragon, at least none that I can see from our far distance, and only the wind stirring the tops of the trees, not the roar of certain death. I try to stave off these grim thoughts for now, but the heaviness of my breath is still seen in the white plumes of steam that unfurl from my lips. It is panic that holds my lungs captive, holds me captive. Teldryn’s words from last night echo in my chaotic mind, but they do little to quell the emotions this time. My companions and I ride steadily towards our fate, but the tension of nervousness blankets only me--the air around them is free and clear. They are ready for this. I should be as well.

“Do you remember what we spoke about last night?” Teldryn murmurs when my shaking lessens from gale-force to a barely perceptible tremor, and I nod. He holds me more softly now, lifting his free hand to brush the hair away from my neck with the very tips of his fingers. I shiver again, but for a different reason. I wonder once more if I should kiss him, if this may be my last chance to, but he speaks again before I’m able to. “Frea and I will be right there with you, but you won’t need us. You’re more powerful than either of us could ever conceive of being.”

Windrime:

The night’s wind blows soft caresses against the bare skin of my arms. It is warm, unseasonably so, and I sit beneath the heavens with my lover beside me. His own touch on my skin is the unwavering competition to the wind who both vie to lay claim to the greatest expanse of it, him for warmth and it to chill me. In the end, it is my lover who comes out triumphant when he guides me to rest my head on his chest, his large hand finding purchase on my shoulder as I nestle my arms in between our bodies. We lay together swathed in the soft grasses of the field where we made our camp, and the wind sighs through the nascent tree leaves of budding springtime. It is such a reprieve from the unrelenting winter, even for a Nord whose bones may as well be made of ice.

kiss:

[MAJOR NSFW ahead]

Teldryn’s fingers thread roughly through my hair as he bends down to press his lips to mine. My arms find their way around his neck to pull him against my body, and he groans at the contact. He kisses me, mouth closed and desire restrained, until I take a hand and palm him through the outside of his pants, my touch drawing a moan out of him as his hands tighten in my hair.

Teldryn then pulls back to begin kissing up my neck and jaw as he simultaneously climbs the rest of the way onto the bed. “Lay down,” he murmurs when his mouth is at my ear

I immediately quiet and nod submissively, but he doesn’t take his hand away. I’m glad for this. My hunger for his touch is insatiable. I close my eyes to concentrate on silencing myself, and suddenly his fingers curl against my walls. My eyes snap open at the climax I now feel building deep inside me, but it doesn’t take long and I whimper against his hand as my body burns with orgasm. When I’ve finished, he exchanges his hand for his lips and kisses me as he takes his fingers out, cupping my sex with his hand for a moment before pulling away from me and moving to the other side of the bed.

[back to SFW]

“I…” I try to speak, but there are no words to convey what I feel, so instead, I step forward and wrap my arms around him. He doesn’t hesitate to return the gesture. I bury my face in Teldryn’s chest, breathing in the scent of sweat and smoke on his clothes. He holds me for a minute, and it’s comfortable, secure, nothing like the way he touched me that other night. Rather, his hand strokes my hair so gently. I think briefly of kissing him, but that would be to ruin this peaceful moment where nothing more is expected of me. We remain like this for a short while longer, then we separate and Teldryn leads me back to the campfire.

Windrime:

“I love you, Fjoara” is all he says in reply and leans down to kiss the top of my head.

His breath turns into kisses peppered up my neck. “Not even ten minutes? They’d be none the wiser.”

He leans down to kiss my forehead once before standing up to leave. When he is gone, I roll onto my back, looking up at the lantern that swings gently from where it hangs on the ceiling. My eyes follow it for a dozen passes before I am finally convinced to leave my bed.

***

oof you can totally see how bare-bones my writing was when i first started my fic back in september. i hadn’t read this stuff in awhile. what a ride.

#tagged games #lmnit #my writing

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tesbloodline · 6 years ago

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Interview #1 - Meri

So as a character development exercise, I decided to randomly select ten questions from my Character Asks page and answer them interview-style. For this first one, they’re all about Meri, and there aren’t any modern!AU questions. I may expand this in the future. It got pretty long (Meri likes to talk, especially about her ducklings), so questions are under the break.

1. Would anyone be happy if you died? (#20)

Oh sure, plenty of people! Bandits, criminals, Brotherhood targets... oh, and I can’t forget Alduin! He’d be plenty happy to be rid of me. Maybe a few of my grumpier uncles, too. They’re pretty universally convinced that Mama’s wrath wouldn’t be worth it, though. At least, the ones who know who my Mama is.

2. In what way do you compare yourself to others? Do you do this for the sake of self-validation or self-criticism? (#45)

... I really don’t like talking about this, but... if I have to... I tend to compare myself to Mama, Grandmother, and the other daughters of Keth. The four generations of Keth women before me did amazing things, they were all legendary in their own right, and I’m not sure that I can live up to their legacy. I know I don’t think like a mortal, I know I have basically no morals to speak of, and I don’t really care about anyone outside of my family. A lot of that comes from Mama’s daedric nature, but the why doesn’t really matter, does it? A madwoman without morals can’t be a hero.

3. Would you prefer a daughter or a son? (#13)

Either! Both! All of the above! I have multiple sons and daughters, of all different races, and I love them all! I’ve got mannish children, merish children, and even an Argonian child (and Tarla’s scales are just the cutest)! I couldn’t ever pick a favorite, even just a favorite attribute.

4. Do you have a favorite summer activity? (#115)

SWIMMING! Oh, Mama and I used to go and swim in the waters around the Shivering Isles when it got warm... I love the feel of water on my skin. Mmm, now I wanna go swimming. I think I might be part fish or something. Probably not literally, though.

5. What did you dream of being or doing as a child? Did that dream come true? (#27)

I dunno if it really counts as a dream, but I’ve always been beyond excited by the prospect of discovering my sphere and creating my own realm. I mean, most of that is in my blood - I am a Daedric Prince, even if I’m a very young one that’s still growing - but I’m really looking forward to it, you know? I’m pretty sure it has something to do with water, considering I could happily spend my entire life submerged, but other than that it’s still developing.

6. How did your children become part of the family? (#210)

Oh, well, that’s kinda complicated. Everything about my family is complicated, but especially my kids, since I have so many. Okay, let’s try chronological order? I’ll use their real names instead of their nicknames for this, just for clarity. First is Violet. She’s a vampire. I found her in a clan of vampires that worshiped Nunca Vic in Haemar’s Shame, and I had to kill the adults because they were trying to kill me, but I didn’t want to just leave her there so I brought her with me.

Then there’s Jens, he grew up in a bandit camp. I happened across the camp after everyone but him had been killed by a handful of draugr in Bleak Falls Barrow. Not too long after that, I met Lucia begging on the streets of Whiterun, and offered to take care of her. Sofie, my next kid, is a pretty similar story: I found her sleeping outside in Windhelm and took her in.

Next was Grimvar. He was actually my only kid that wasn’t an orphan - he just wanted to be an adventurer so badly he literally followed my traveling party out into the wilderness. I decided ‘with us’ was better for his health than ‘trailing behind us’ and took him in. We still go by Windhelm to see his other parents every couple months, but they’ve accepted he’s not going to stay and that I’m his primary parent now - I can look after him when they can’t.

Now here’s where things get kinda crazy. I was in Riften, doing a contract to kill the ironically-named Grelod the Kind, who ran the orphanage. Once the job was done, I was going to leave everything to Constance, the assistant. But after I killed Grelod, Constance just ran away screaming and didn’t even try to protect the kids, so I kind of got very angry and brought them all with me. This is where I got Tarla, Samuel, Hroar, Runa, and Francois. Right after that, like I’d planned the whole time, I went right back to Windhelm and picked up the kid who sent me on the job, Aventus.

Let’s see... after that was Valun. I was on a contract to kill Alain Dufont, and one of the members of his bandit camp was this young Altmer boy. I especially couldn’t leave him behind on his own, Skyrim would actively destroy him, child or not. Then came Gael, a little Bosmer girl who was stuck living in the wilderness on the very northernmost coast of Skyrim, right on the water’s edge, with this creepy old Nordic merchant. Believe me, she was glad to get out of there, adventuring party or not.

Jeez, I sure can talk when it comes to my kids. I’d say sorry, but I’m really not. I love ‘em all so much!

7. What is the worst thing you’ve ever done? (#32)

Hmm, that’s a pretty tough question. Give me a second to think about it, okay? I’m kind of really torn between getting everyone in the Forgotten City killed horribly twice, even if I did manage to save them all in the end, or terrifying Sparky so bad in the Shimmermist disaster. Not the disaster itself, just that it scared Sparky so much.

8. Do you have a large or small group of friends? (#162)

Oh, small, definitely. I mean... I didn’t have any actual friends back home - pretty much everyone literally worshiped me, which makes it kinda hard to have actual friendships. And look at my traveling party! Axes is sworn to my service, Mace owes me his life, Greatsword is super standoffish, and most of the others are my kids. I love my kids, but there’s a different relationship there.

The only one I’m really comfortable calling my friend in any real capacity is Sparky. He’s the only one who’s seen me at my worst and stayed, and he’s definitely not afraid to call me out when I’m being an idiot.

9. Do you believe in marriage? (#186)

That’s... complicated. I want to - in theory, it’s a wonderful idea. But every time I think about it practically, all I can remember is Mama’s face when she had to tell me why she doesn’t wear a wedding ring, why I didn’t have a Papa like all the other children. I remember my Mama crying when she thought I was sleeping, mourning her would-have-been husband who was murdered by his own brothers and sisters. I remember the pain in her eyes whenever she’s reminded of him, the way she reaches out for someone who isn’t there and starts to speak to empty air. It’s like it never really sinks in that he’s gone, and every time she’s confronted with that fact it’s a brand new stab in the heart. So while I sort of understand why some people would want to get married, I don’t think I would ever be willing to let myself get that vulnerable, and I want no part in anyone’s wedding. I’d honestly rather not even attend, or maybe even hear about it, but I wouldn’t begrudge someone else’s choice as long as they leave me out of it.

10. Do you have a temper? Are you patient? What are you like when you do lose your temper? (#224)

Oh, I have a horrid temper. I am mad, don’t you know? Well anyway, it takes a lot for me to actually get angry - most of the time I’m just pretty excited for whatever’s going on - but when I do... well, the first time I actually got angry on Nirn was the Shimmermist disaster, where Sparky almost died. In that case, I kind of went on a rampage and indiscriminately slaughtered every living thing in the cave besides Sparky, plus a Dwemer Centurion.

#the elder scrolls #Skyrim #bloodline!verse #oc asks #interview #oc-meri

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