#the elder scrolls fluff

[gloomwitchwrites]

Lavender: Part Two

Brynjolf x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), oral sex (female receiving), breeding undertones, mentions of pregnancy

Word Count: 2.6k

After accepting Brynjolf’s marriage proposal, the two of you receive some long-awaited alone time since binding yourselves together under Mara’s eye.

Part One

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // spring 2024 masterlist

A strong breeze kicks up, rattling the side of the small cabin. A fire burns in the hearth, warm and strong, filling the space with light. The sun is all but gone. Your belly is full. And for once, you aren’t afraid. You are not stressed. There is no impending doom or subtle tension.

Tightening the wool blanket around your shoulders, you gaze into the fire, reflecting on the last few weeks. When you finally accepted Brynjolf’s proposal, he went to the Temple of Mara, and fetched a priestess like he said he would. The two of you bound yourselves together in matrimony.

Then it was done. Over. And your new life began.

The moment you sealed yourself to Brynjolf, the entire atmosphere changed within the Thieves Guild. They dropped their cold demeanors, greeting you with warm smiles and congratulations. The only member who didn’t seem to change at all was Vex, her icy exterior retaining a firm hold. At first, you believed she didn’t like you, but then you quickly realized that she’s sour with almost everyone.

You were not allowed to leave the cistern unless chaperoned, and while that bothered you at the time, you grew used to the routine. Brynjolf never waived in communicating how your mother and aunt fared in Solitude. He made sure to hand over any letters or pieces of communication, and whenever you longed to leave the cistern, Brynjolf would bring you with him to the market.

But all things end, and when Mercer Frey offered up a small retreat for you and Brynjolf to escape to for a bit, the two of you snatched it up without question. In Thieves Guild headquarters, there is nowhere private, and while you and Brynjolf tried to find a bit of quiet, it was ultimately difficult.

Every time you or Brynjolf tried to initiate anything, someone would appear as if sensing the intimacy.

Now, the two of you are alone. Truly alone.

Not simply as friends or lovers, but as husband and wife.

“Lass.”

Brynjolf’s hushed and husky voice drifts over to you. Turning away from the fire, you find him reclined on the bed. He is entirely bare except for a fur blanket covering his groin. The light from the fire casts a warm glow across his skin. Brynjolf bends one knee and lightly taps the bed beside him.

“Come to bed,” he croons, and your legs move without question. It is instinct to do so.

Approaching the side of the bed, your drop the blanket, revealing a thin shift. The chill air instantly pebbles your nipples and Brynjolf’s gaze drops to your breasts. It is a heated look, one that instantly pulls a slickness from your core.

Slowly, you lift your leg, planting one knee on the bed. Leaning forward, you place both hands on the soft bedding, and then lift your other leg. Brynjolf’s emerald eyes flash, his chest expanding and deflating quickly, nostrils flaring. With deliberate slowness, you slide over to him, keeping your gaze glued to his face. Brynjolf watches you the entire time. There is hunger lingering in the depths of his stare.

When you come to rest against his right side, Brynjolf reaches out, cupping your cheek with one hand. He doesn’t say anything. Simply touches. Caresses. Observers. The middle of his brow creases slightly and then softens. That kissable mouth of his turns upward, and there is so much love there it momentarily zaps your autonomy from you.

You would give Brynjolf anything in this moment.

“Do you remember the first time?” he asks.

“The first time?” you reply hesitantly, not sure you understand.

Brynjolf laughs softly. “You know.”

Your cheeks heat, sudden realization dawning. “Oh. Yes.”

Dropping his hand from your cheek, Brynjolf leans back into the bedding. “I was nervous. Excited.” He chuckles. “Couldn’t stay hard.”

“Or inside me,” you add with a smirk.

Brynjolf laughs, the sound of it sweet. “Aye. What a mess I was.”

“Are you telling me you’re nervous, husband?” you tease, placing one hand on his bare chest. He is warm beneath your palm, and you cannot help yourself. You stroke slowly, savoring his heat.

“Hardly,” he replies, his own hand grasping yours. Brynjolf brings your palm up to his lips to place a gentle kiss there. “I’ll be better.”

“Truly?”

Brynjolf’s amused grin widens as your teasing tone. One moment you’re reclining beside him and the next you’re on your back.

“Bryn!” you exclaim, but he has you pinned.

“If we married when he did,” he murmurs. “We’d have ourselves an army by now.”

You gasp and smack his chest. With how much space you have, the strike is weak, but it’s not meant to hurt.

“Don’t like the truth, lass?” he croons, head dipping slightly as if to kiss you.

“You’re terrible,” you reply, smiling.

Brynjolf grins. “You take that back.”

“Make me.”

The words leave your mouth and you cannot snatch them out of the air. You cannot shove them back down your throat.

Brynjolf’s grin grows wider, and you know in this moment that you’ve lost.

His mouth comes down on yours with a fierceness that steals all breath. It is suffocating. Intense. And so different from all the kisses you’ve ever received before, even from him. His large hands roam over the thin shift until your skin is buzzing, as if bees have made a home there. When he retreats it is agony, a staunch shattering that longs to be repaired.

“We have years to catch up on,” he murmurs against your lips, tongue darting out to tease.

“Then we best get started,” you reply, just as softly.

Brynjolf groans and comes back for more. It is sweet like an apple tart with extra sugar. Brynjolf will rot your teeth at this rate, but you’d hardly care even if he did.

His hands slip under the thin shift, bunching the fabric around your hips. The fur blanket that covers his cock is gone and his nakedness is apparent. It presses on your lower abdomen and you flex your hips up to bring him level with your entrance.

Brynjolf’s fingers dig into your thighs as his cock slides through your sex. “Not yet.”

Brynjolf releases your thighs and places both hands on the bed, pushing up to a seated position. His cock stands at attention, nearly meeting his belly button. Every muscle of his is on display, and you long to taste and lick each one.

Years. It’s been years, and your body still craves him like it did before.

“Off,” he says, and it is a command. His red hair lightly brushes over his shoulders as he shifts slightly on his knees.

Your fingers find the neckline but hesitate. It’s not because you’re scared or frightened of him, but because this makes it all the more real. The two of you are bound together under Mara’s blessing.

Brynjolf’s gaze softens. “Want my help, lass?”

Heat rises to your cheeks as you ease the neckline over one shoulder and then the other. It falls to your waist, revealing your breasts. Brynjolf is right there, reaching to help ease the shift down your legs.

When you are bare to him, Brynjolf groans. His hands return to your thighs and you part them, wanting him closer. Brynjolf briefly straightens, drawing back slightly, the tips of his fingers grazing over your inner thighs.

At first, you think he’s pulling away from you, but he only wants to admire, to gaze on your body for a bit.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you. Those emerald eyes of his darken. “Wife,” he whispers, as if he’s testing it out.

“Wife,” you repeat back to him.

His chest heaves. “Finally.”

Brynjolf surges forward. One hand presses into the bed by your head while his other grasps your hip. Your mouths connect, and the liquid fire returns, roaring through blood and bone until you’re drowning. All these years you’ve waited and resisted, believing that loving him would only ruin him. How wrong you were. This man is enthralled. It’s clear from every touch and kiss.

Brynjolf breaks away only to return his mouth to your skin. He kisses your jaw and the curve of your neck. He moves down to your collarbone and then between your breasts. Brynjolf descends further over your stomach and stops just above your sex.

You are still spread completely, legs forced apart by his expansive shoulders, entirely open for his view. Brynjolf’s gaze is locked on your sex. He is fixated, and when he finally glances up, his pupils are blown.

“May I taste my wife?” he asks, voice rough with lust. Brynjolf slides back a bit, forcing your legs over each of his broad shoulders. His mouth hovers just above your pussy.

“You may,” you reply, voice soft, almost inaudible.

The corner of Brynjolf’s mouth quirks into a smile. His head dips, breath hot against your slickness. It draws forth a shiver, one that has him groaning against your inner thigh. Brynjolf’s lips hover there, pressing lightly on your soft skin.

“No squirming,” he says before gently biting.

It’s not painful, more of a surprise that has you seeking refuge away from his mouth.

“Oh shove it, Bryn,” you mutter.

He laughs, and then his tongue is on you.

It is not tentative. Not hesitant. It’s not like the first time when the two of you stumbled through the motions. This is completely different. Completely other. Brynjolf is sure of himself, as if he’s known your body all his life, and he knows exactly what you need.

His tongue traces, moving from entrance to clit with deliberate slowness. Your back arches, but Brynjolf’s hold is firm. His large hands firmly grasp your outer thighs, keeping you parted. When his tongue makes another pass, a gasp escapes you. It is strangled. Nearly choked.

Brynjolf repeats the motion, and this time you whimper.

“So sweet,” he purrs. “And all mine.”

His words are liquid sin, dipped in Dibella’s teachings. When Brynjolf puts his mouth on you again, he tastes and tastes and tastes until everything in you clenches. That tension coils up like a serpent under the leaves, waiting to strike. There is no escape. No chase. You are completely open and raw, unable to contain the venomous bite inside you. The serpent shows its fangs, and you are a willing victim.

Brynjolf sucks your clit into his mouth and that cracks your control, shattering it like poorly forged steel. Your fingers slide through his red locks, tugging until he growls. Your hips flex, pushing your cunt against his mouth.

Those large, strong hands of his hold tight, keeping your hips still. But Brynjolf doesn’t guide you away. Instead, he keeps you pressed against his mouth, the flat of his tongue tearing your resolve into shreds.

“Stop. Bryn. I’ll suffocate you,” you gasp, trying in vain to create distance.

“Then I’ll die happy,” he replies casually before diving in for more.

Between your legs, you watch as Brynjolf adjusts his position. He freely offers you a clear view of the tip of his tongue as it circles and teases your clit. You are unable to look away. The sight of him worshiping your body like this sends your body buzzing, and that coiled tension returns, blooming fast.

Your gaze is fixed on that one point, of how his pink tongue plays with you. Brynjolf doesn’t need to use his fingers. By the Nine, if he did, you’d likely explode, shatter like hammer against ice.

You melt like the snows in summer. You do not stifle or attempt to restrain the moans that leave your lips. They are wild. Untamed. And all for him.

Who would hear you but him?

By the time you begin to come down, Brynjolf is already bringing your thighs together, angling them back toward your chest. You don’t care. Don’t event mind. Everything inside of you is light, as if you float amongst the clouds, soaring like a hawk.

“My wife,” he says softly, drawing your gaze back to him. Your lashes flutter, and a contented smile spreads across your face. Brynjolf’s mouth and chin are shiny with your juices.

He makes no move to clean himself.

“Husband,” you reply.

With a suddenness that surprises, Brynjolf’s hand grasps the nape of your neck. He doesn’t squeeze, only holds. He tugs, drawing you upward but not entirely into a seated position. Your fingers dig at the bedding beneath you, all the muscles in your body that were once languid are now tight with strain.

In this position, Brynjolf’s cock slides through your slickness in a back-and-forth motion until all you can hear is your own pleasure.

“Brynjolf,” you gasp, reaching for him.

He murmurs your name as the head of his cock bumps against your clit. Your only response is a strangled groan, one he answers by rocking his hips back enough to hold himself at your entrance.

On an exhale, Brynjolf begins to ease in. This is not like before. Not at all. You are stuffed. Filled.

“You’re doing so well, lass.” Brynjolf retreats slightly before pushing forward again. “You can take it.” He gives you more with each roll of his hips.

“By the Nine,” you say as he bottoms out.

“Don’t go praising the gods now, lass,” chides Brynjolf. “They don’t deserve your sweet words.”

You’d laugh, maybe even tease back, but Brynjolf is hungry, and he gives you no respite.

There is no subtle softness. No slowness. Brynjolf drives forward, each thrust concentrated strength. The hold on your neck disappears, and you slump back to the bed, but that doesn’t matter. In this position, you are pinned beneath him, unable to do anything but take. But you gladly accept it, each steady stroke a delicious bite.

You never want to leave this place. Never want to leave him.

Brynjolf adjusts your legs, spreading them out and up, pushing them toward your chest. It forces your hips up a bit but it only creates a deeper angle. Leaning forward, he plants one hand above your head and the other near your shoulder.

He grunts above you, beads of sweat rolling down his neck. Reaching up, you slide your hands up his chest and then over his shoulders, keeping him close. Taking the hint, Brynjolf relaxes a bit, draping himself over you as he thrusts.

Like this, you can reach him.

Flexing the muscles in your neck and shoulders, you arch up to kiss him. You only manage to graze his jaw but it’s enough. Brynjolf tips his head downward, and then he’s meeting you, each kiss desperate.

What were once steady thrusts become needy, quick bursts that signal his end. While you cannot move your legs much, you do manage to hook your heels over the backs of his thighs. This changes something within him because Brynjolf nearly crushes you as he groans out his releases.

You cling to him, holding tight as his hips stutter, the last few thrusts of his shallow and weak. Brynjolf’s lips brush against your jaw, then your cheekbone before falling against the curve of your ear.

“Did you want that army?” he asks.

“Do you?” you reply, turning your head enough to gaze upon his face.

The soft smile you receive tells you all you need to know. “Little versions of us running around the cistern? Brandishing knives?” You roll your eyes and Brynjolf chuckles against your throat. “I’ll take whatever you offer me, lass. You know that.”

He still inside you, and so you roll your hips, finding that he’s already becoming hard again.

“Let’s start with one.”

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @singleteapot @tiredmetalenthusiast @childofyuggoth

@miaraei @coffeecaketornado @miss-mistinguett @cherryofdeath @ninman82

[ridreamir]

Nebarra being really convinced that he's ugly to a point that you're secretly both morbidly curious and mildly afraid to find out what he looks like underneath his helmet- Namely because while he isn't the pinnacle of tall freak alien-looking altmer beauty, he's at the very least better looking than most people on average.

And though he's got an ugly personality, if you saw him without him explicitly opening his rancid mouth introducing himself to you, you wouldn't even understand right away that the handsome mer in front of you is the annoying merc you know as (neb)barra.

More often than not, he goes with wildly overconfident. That act doesn't nearly reflect how often he feels self-conscious about how he looks. He thinks about it during almost every passing moment these days. Is he too short? Too stocky? Gods forbid, does he smell bad?? Is he just some brawny brute to you? A ruffian? A barbarian? Not elegant enough?? These are all things he really shouldn't be concerned with (considering you're a walking human-lizard abomination), and yet he can't seem to quiet the thought. But you're never going to find out what he looks like at this rate so it's fine!! It's fine!! It's fine!!! It's fine!!!

-

You finally snap (breaking the no physical contact rule) and grab him by the bangs in the middle of an admittedly mild argument, and underneath the cover of his helmet, he goes completely unresponsive.

You're convinced that they're secretly his alien Aldmeri-antennae and you just flicked his off-switch.

Meanwhile his soul has left his body because you're close enough for him to see every wrinkle, pore, and daedra forsaken eyelash on your face, and you're tugging on his hair as if it were the reins of a horse. And his heart is trying to strangle him. Mara is that such a cruel joke. Then you smooth the strands of his hair between your fingers in curiosity, accidentally tugging them a little. He winces and tries to complain but it all comes out as garbled nonsense as you step a little closer and give it a really good, close-up glance over. After that he goes quiet for maybe one whole solid hour, trailing along without a peep.

Leading him to an early death for sure. Auri-El, smite me.

[0-animelover-0]

When you hug her/him

A/N: My first marriages in the game was Scout-many-marshes and Ghnorbash the Iron Hand so I had to add them :)

Aela the Huntress

You were feeling lonely just talking to the other Companions. So, you went to Aela and engulfed her in your arms. You could feel the thrum of her heart against her chest and it almost immediately calmed you. Aela froze in her spot and stopped eating the loaf that was in her hand. She was not expecting the sudden hug but she certainly was not complaining. She wrapped her arms around you and smiled at you. "My dear, if you wanted a hug all you had to do was ask."

Ghorza gra-Bagol

Ghorza was rambling on about how her lousy assistant was too stupid to understand how to work the forge. You sighed and placed your cheek on your palm. Ghorza usually complains about such things but you didn't feel like listening to her continuous complaints. You pulled her closer by her waist and wrapped your arms around her. She froze for a second before hugging you back. "Geez, at least let me finish speaking first."

Grelka

Grelka stood at her stand in Riften as per usual. You could hear her talking to customers in her usual sassy tone. You walked to her stand and leaned against the side of it. "How's business?"

"What do you think?" She replied.

You chuckled and placed your hand on her hip as you pulled her closer. Grelka placed both her arms around your torso. "Wha-you want a hug? Now?" You nodded your head and placed it on her shoulder. She sighed and held you for a second before pushing you away so she could go back to selling. "Now go back to what you were doing before. I'll see you at home."

Shahvee

You walked to the docks with a basket of flowers you brought from home. Your boots clicked against the stone stairs as you walked down them. Shahvee could hear someone walking to her so she slightly turned her head to look. After seeing your friendly face she smiled. "Hello love, need anything?"

You held up the basket to show her its contents and her face lit up. "I thought these might brighten your day."

Shahvee stood up and took it from you, smelling the pretty flowers. "Thank you..." You hugged her tightly, making sure to not get in the way of the basket. She set it down and happily wrapped her arms around you.

Balimund

The blacksmith of Riften worked over his forge as usual. The sweat and dirt covered his face as he wiped his forehead. Appearing behind him, you wrapped your arms around his broad body. Balimund tensed but when he noticed it was you his muscles relaxed. "Don't creep up on me, darlin." He said, turning his head to look at you.

You laughed and kissed his cheek. "Sorry, I couldn't resist."

He shook his head and took your hands off him before turning around to hug you back. He kissed your temple then your cheek. "Well next time refrain from sneeking and just ask for one."

Derkeethus

It was weeks after you saved him and recently starting seeing each other. You decided to show up at Darkwater Passing to surprise him. You saw Sondas but no Derkeethus. You approached him and smiled politely. "Have you seen Derk?"

The dark elf looked up at you from the ground and nodded, pointing to the entrance to the mine. "Of course. He's in there."

You thanked him and went down to the mine. The first noises you heard was the clanking of pickaxe's hitting the walls. You saw his beautiful green scales and went to him as his back was turned. "Boo!"

Your sudden actions caused Derkeethus to jump. "Divines above! Don't scare me like that Y/n."

You laughed and hugged him as an apology. "I'm sorry, my love."

He rolled his eyes and hugged you back. "No you are not."

You shrugged. "You're right~"

Farkas

The hulking man stood outside, leaning against a pillar. You set your goblet of wine down on a outdoor table and went to him. He noticed you coming closer and he smiled at you. "Oh, is no jobs available for you?" He asked as he placed both of his hands on your waist.

You shook your head and leaned it against his chest. "Just wanted to see you. Is that a problem?~"

Farkas chuckled in his deep voice and kissed your head. "No no, this is just fine."

Vilkas

The scowling werewolf stood outside by the wooden dummies, his sword in his hands. He didn't see you till you cleared your throat to get his attention.

He huffed and turned around to face you. "Yes, love?"

"Come here." You ordered him, your arms opened invitingly

Vilkas raised an eyebrow and slightly smirked. "Liking your role as Harbinger I see?"

You glared at him and put your arms down, rolling your eyes. "Oh nevermind!"

Before you could walk away, Vilkas grabbed your waist. "Ah ah, I didn't say I didn't want a hug from you." He held onto you as he put his chin on the top of your head.

Scout-many-marshes

You could see Scout carrying chopped wood at the docks. You walked to the Argonian and his eyes softened as a loving smile spread across his face. "Hello dearest, how are you this evening?"

"I'm doing just fine. I can help you if you want." You said, motioning to the pile in his arms.

"Oh no I can handle it, love." He responded.

You frowned at him and took some of the wood from him. "No, I'm helping. Even if you like it or not. Now let's get this done before dark." Scout smiled and nodded.

After you too got done, you hugged him and kissed his scaly jaw. "Now sleep well, sweetheart." He nodded with a sweet smile and grazed his clawed hand over the spot you kissed. He definitely will sleep good tonight.

Ghnorbash the Iron Hand

You arrived at the orc stronghold he lived in, Dushnikh Yal. Pushing open the large logged doors, you saw Ghnorbash slicing his weapon in the air and hitting the wooden dummy in front of him. "Ghnorbash!" Your orc warrior looked at the entrance and a small smile graced his lips. He unsheethed his sword and watched as you came closer. If he wasn't strong and sturdy, he would have been knocked down by how fast you jumped on him.

"Excited are we, my love?" He asked jokingly.

You smiled and kept your arms around him. "Mhm."

Ghnorbash picked you up and laughed at the surprise noise you made. "Yes, I can tell." He held you in a tight grip, but not enough to hurt or bruise. His tusked teeth grazed your face as he kissed right below your ear.

Brynjolf

Your mood was down so you went to the man who you loved. This cocky bastard grinned in amusement as he felt your hands cling to the clothing he was wearing. "Feeling lonely lass?" You nodded and he took your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "Well we can't have that." He gently picked you up and ignored the looks from the other thieves guild members. You wrapped your arms around his neck and rested your head on his chest.

He carried you to the shared bedroom that you guys had built in for when you would need to stay in the Thieves Guild hideout for any reason. He layed you down on the bed then slid in with you, pulling you close to his body. "I'll lay here with you 'til I'm needed."

Cicero

The murderous jester chuckled his little weird laugh and hugged you back with a big grin. "Is my Y/n needing love?" No matter your response, he held you tighter and closer, enjoying your warmth. "Cicero will hug away your worries, oh yes!"

You just sighed and let him be happy as he continued holding you close. You eventually had to leave for a job so he groaned but knew you had to do your work so he let you go. He kissed your nose and told you to get him if needed, placing his hand on his ebony dagger.

Lord Harkon

The large doors opened as you walked into the Castle. Everyone knew you by now. The person who stole the vampire Lord's heart. Eyes fell on you as you walked down the stairs that led to the main room. "Ah, my dear! You've came just in time."

You raised an eyebrow curious. "Time for...?"

Harkon sipped the thick red liquid from his golden goblet. "Dinner, my dear."

You went to him and lifted his chin. "Stand." Harkon narrowed his eyes but obliged and stood up. You smiled and pulled him into a hug. The room was silent as you did it. Harkon found your way of hugging him weird but he couldn't deny that it felt somewhat nice.

A couple snickers could be heard in the background. "Go back to whatever you were doing!" He yelled towards his fellow vampires as he escorted you out.

Serana

You both sat under a big tree during the night. The stars and moon illuminated the leaves overhead. Serana ran her long nails through your hair, stopping to massage your scalp every couple minutes. You wrapped your arms around her waist and leaned into her more. Serana softly chuckled and smiled at you with her glowing eyes. "Comfortable?"

"Very. Thank you..." You said and kissed her pale neck.

"Hey now, that's my job." She said as she kissed your cheek.

You tilted your head with a teasing smile. "Oh really? Who says?"

"Me." Serana said, playfully pushing your head away from her neck.

[madamefluffnstuff]

Just imagine:

Bastian sitting on the floor with you, holding you close. His chest flush with your back, his arms wrapped around you in a safe, secure embrace. Those auburn curls tickling your forehead when you turn to look at him. And his eyes- those lovely, dark emerald green eyes. Not a word needs to be said. He's not going anywhere. And neither are you.

Fennorian standing in the middle of the room with you, holding your hands. His own pale hands feel chilly in your grasp, but you don't mind. You've plenty of warmth to share. His thumbs moving softly across your knuckles as his forehead rests against yours. The worry you both have been carrying slowly dissipates. You feel so safe in his presence, just as he feels safe in yours.

Darien looking up at you with absolute adoration as you sit down on the bed, inviting you to share the coziness of the blankets. It's a cold night, so there are extra bedcovers. You burrow into them as he pulls you close. Your face resting in the crook of his neck as his arm drapes lazily across your midsection. As you both settle in, he breathes in the scent of your hair and you breathe in his. There is a mutual feeling of how lucky you both are to be in each other's arms.

[lillxart]

Comfort

“Ta-da!~ >w<” 

Taliesin’s eyes went wide as he witnessed his lover in all her naked glory. You'd think someone who wears revealing clothing pretty regularly, he'd be used to seeing her with nothing on. But even after getting used to her showy attire and even becoming an item, it was still a surprise to see her bare. “Well, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before~”

“>:3 You sleep in the nude, so I thought I’d match you! >3<”

“How touching.” Taliesin was worried that him constantly sleeping without clothes on would make her uncomfortable, since it’s not a common thing to do. Snow White actually seemed more clingy at night because he's been wearing clothes recently, so because of that he thought she actually didn’t like it. But seeing her take a step into something considered a bit more odd for his sake was a sweet thing for her to do. Taliesin was oddly relieved.  

Though, to be honest her being naked in front of him is a little distracting. His eyes are wandering…

“Like what you see?~ Now you know how I feel.” She bounced on the bed, they bounced as she bounced on the bed. 

“Hm?” Taliesin got distracted, looking back up at her. 

Snow White snorted. “You know I have a thing for Altmer, so having you sleep naked every night was awful. -o- What’s even worse about it is that I’m in love with you–so that only makes me want to touch you even more! D:< I've been restraining myself this whole time and it's been torture!”

“You mean the reason why you haven’t been holding me as closely at night was because you were afraid of…what…? Of touching me?” 

“Well now I feel like a pervert -//~//- Thanks Taliesin.”

“But that’s exactly what you are!” He laughed. Auri-el grant him mercy, his girlfriend is too much! “Are you trying to be naked as a show of good faith that my nudity doesn’t bother you, or are you trying to enact your revenge upon me?” He folded his arms. 

“Both! >:3 I am doing both!”

“Lovely…” Taliesin smirked and playfully rolled his eyes. 

Snow White cuddled at his back embracing him warmly as the big spoon. Even though she was smaller than him Taliesin never felt like she wasn’t enveloping him when she hugged him. Her hands over his, though delicate, were comforting as he knew they were capable of protecting him. Feeling her bare skin on his brought a…warmth to the elf he didn’t think about until now. Being together with her like this was nice. 

Though he could feel her hands twitching. “Trying to keep your hands from wandering?~” Taliesin teased. 

“Shut up. I’m a good girl, I can snuggle up to my amazing boyfriend naked and not do anything funny.” Snow White buried her face into his hair, face beet red. 

Talieisn chuckled. “Goodnight, Snow~”

He fell asleep peacefully in her embrace.

*I'll prolly make art of this later this week but for now posting the brain-blurb! >p<*

[inkoherentwriting]

WIP WEDNES-MAY!!!

Tagged back by @hannah-heartstrings ! (low pressure) Tagging @hannah-heartstrings back-back ( >:D ) , @thequeenofthewinter, @sylvienerevarine , @gwilin-stay-winnin , @dirty-bosmer , @azures-grace , @druidx , @avantegarda , @archangelsammy , and YOU dear tumblr-er!!

I don't want to share more match fit (even though I'm excited for it!) so I'll share more fluff. going into that silly dancing fic i half percolated last year

under the cut we go! no content warnings just unabashed post main game fluff between two idiots!!!

Guilbert laughed. "I know you think your brother is good at everything, but I don't--"

He stopped dancing and thus, so did Miraina. Guilbert then blinked, facing a peculiar sensation of his current thoughts stopping mid-sentence.

It wasn't something that happened to him often.

"You don't what?"

She looked at him not unlike a shadow of the frightful bandit that he had once feared her as. Looking back into her intense gaze, Guilbert blinked slowly again. She remained staring. Guilbert kept wondering what to do with the peculiar sensation. It was not unpleasant by any means but it grew stranger the longer he lingered on it. Finally though, he said--

"I don't want to dance with your brother anyway."

He watched but did not quite register as her face warmed to a red palette of color. "Y-yeah.... of course not..." Miraina stammered. "My brother ain't the hero of Cyrodiil. Champion. Whatever. Don't care about that."

"You should." Guilbert's voice softened. "You went from ransacking people's homes to saving all of Tamriel. Really, you could dance with anyone you wanted."

Miraina looked shy and tense. Guilbert felt strange again.

"And yet... you wanted to dance with me. That's why I will go to this party with you. You remembered me."

"I never forgot you." Miraina's voice, just as soft, felt like stones hitting Guilbert in the chest as she spoke.

[i-simp-for-fennorian]

Fennorian stayed in Evelynn's embrace for a long while, savoring the closeness between them.

His hand traced gentle patterns across the soft skin of her back, his touch feather-light and filled with affection.

He pressed gentle and tender kisses to her neck and shoulder, his voice a soft whisper against her skin.

"I could stay like this, with you, forever…"

[coffee-at-daybreak]

warming up | erik the slayer x reader

Your trek to Markarth is cut short when a sudden, intense rainstorm rolls in from the jagged mountains. Before you know it, you and your companion are being pelted by a downpour so cold it’s nearly painful. Brutal gusts of wind and claps of lightning rock the valley. You shout at Erik over the thunder to help you search for some kind of shelter, anything to get you out of this storm.

He does his best to shield you from the rain with his thick fur cloak, holding it above your head and shoulders. And even though his drenched hair is starting to cover his eyes, he spots something in the haze- a cave entrance tucked into the side of a mountain - and guides you to it.

You’ve never clambered into something so fast. You breathe a sigh of relief at finally being out of the piercing rain, able to think a lot clearer now. You carefully descend the short tunnel in your wet boots, Erik following close behind, as you move further in.

You find yourselves in a rather small, rounded cave. The stone walls are covered in crawling moss, the ground made of damp dirt and sand. You scope out the area, but thankfully there seems to be no sign of life or danger.

“I’m not sure who angered Kynareth, but this seems like a good place to wait out the storm,” Erik announces. He manages to find some dried branches scattered along the ground and begins to gather them to build a fire in the center of the cave.

You murmur an agreement around your chattering teeth and go to help him. Your movements are stiff, your feet and fingers still feeling numb from the cold onslaught of the rain. You start to regain some of it as you both put together a decent pile and start the fire.

You hunch down close to the small flame as it grows. Faint warmth makes its way onto your still-soaked body. You shed some of the drenched outermost layers of your outfit, keeping them close by so they can start drying. Then you bring your trembling form back to the fire, extending your hands to hover near it.

“Here,” Erik’s gentle voice comes from above. You look up just as he speaks, and you flinch when fabric flops over your head. “Oh- sorry,” he laughs, quickly pulling it out of your face and adjusting it around your shoulders. “It’s the only blanket from my pack that didn’t get wet.”

It’s thin, but it’s dry and soft, and instantly brings more warmth onto your skin. You let out a pleased hum, glancing up at Erik. “Thank you.”

His blue eyes are soft as he casts you a smile, and crouches next to you to add more kindling to the fire. Being that close to it, you can’t help but notice how the glow makes his hair look even brighter, the ginger strands looking a lot like flames themselves.

The fire grows to a good size. The aura of warmth flows around, chasing away the memories of the harsh storm you’d been in only moments prior. You can still hear it outside, but the sound of the pounding rain and distant thunder is muffled.

Erik sits on the ground, huffing out a breath as he holds his hands out to the fire as well. Much like you, he’s trembling from the drastic change in temperature. There are still rain droplets on his arms, and you can even see the goosebumps still on his skin.

You lift one side of the blanket to extend it towards him. “We can share this, you know.”

He looks at you with surprise, but it’s almost instantly replaced by another smile. “It’s alright. It’s pretty small, and you need-”

“Let me rephrase : We are sharing this. Boss’s orders,” you say firmly.

Erik utters a breathless laugh and scoots closer to you. “As you command. Thanks.” He takes a hold of the blanket from one side, then reaches to drape it behind his back and over his shoulder. It is small, so the only way for it to wrap around both of you is to scoot even closer until your sides are pressing together. You’re both still rather damp, but the body warmth does wonders for ridding you of the coldness.

But you know the rush of heat you feel rise along your neck and to your ears isn’t due to the increasing temperature. It’s the way you savor the feeling of his body against yours, how it makes you both oddly nervous and pleasantly calm. His muscular shoulder and thigh pressing to your own kicks your pulse into a rapid speed.

“I don’t smell like a wet dog, do I?” Erik blurts out.

You laugh, and some of the nerves you felt just now start to ebb away. “Maybe a little. But I don’t think I’m any better.”

“Hmm, let’s see.” He takes a very dramatic sniff and scrunches his nose up. “Oof, you’re right, you’re worse. Like a skeever right out of the sewers. Or a-”

You mutter a “shut up” and shove at his shoulder with yours, but he holds steady. You feel his side moving against your own as he laughs, nudging you back playfully.

A long while passes. Your shivering forms stay huddled close together. But it doesn’t take much for everything to work together in warming you up fast - the crackling fire, the soft blanket, the heat of your bodies pressed together, the occasional laughter you share as you converse about your plans after arriving in Markarth. You still hear the storm outside, but it becomes difficult to remember the feeling of the cold rain and harsh wind, especially when all you feel now is a cozy warmth.

The one area of your body that isn’t warming up as fast is your head and neck, thanks to your still-soaked hair. You lift your hands carefully, trying not to let the blanket slip off your back, and gather your hair to one side in an attempt to wring out some of the lingering rainwater. You start to brush through some of it with your fingers when you cast a side glance at Erik.

He’s already looking at you, the subtlest of smiles resting on his face. The reflection of the flames dancing in his eyes make his cerulean eyes look like a much warmer color.

Your pulse quickens as you tilt your head. “What?”

He blinks, briefly looking like he’s coming out of a trance. “N-nothing, sorry. I just…” He tries to look away, eyes jumping to the fire, but then he’s taking a deep breath in and his gaze travels back to you. “I think you look…” He trails off.

You crack a smile. “Like a skeever right out of the sewer?”

He snorts, caught off guard. “No! If you did look like a skeever, you’d be one of the cute ones. If those exist.”

You roll your eyes. You mutter a sarcastic “right”, looking off to one side.

When he speaks again, the humor in his tone is gone, and his voice is softened by a nervous sincerity. “I’m serious. I think you look beautiful.”

Now it’s your turn to be caught off guard. You turn to look at him, and though you can tell he’s struggling to do so, he holds your gaze. You become aware again of how close you are to him, the air feeling stuffier all of a sudden.

“You do?” You ask, giving him a chance to reveal he’s joking or jabbing at you again. But you feel a slight tension in the little space between you two, the way the air feels somewhat… heavier than it did moments ago, when you were merely chatting and laughing.

“Of course.” Erik casts you a reassuring smile.

Blood flushes under your skin, cheeks going red. “But I’m all… soggy.” You wince as soon as you say it.

He laughs again, his body jostling against your own. “True, but that doesn’t change anything. I actually like it when you look sort of… unkempt.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “You’re messing with me.”

“I’m not!” Erik shifts so he turns a little more towards you. “I mean it. Like when you crawl out of your tent in the morning with squinty eyes and a little bit of bedhead. Or when you get messy eating a sweet roll and you have that little smidge of the glaze right here.” He swipes his thumb at the corner of his smiling mouth, but he’s looking at yours.

Now you’re starting to feel a little too hot, blushing so hard you might just combust. You open your mouth to say something, surely a stuttering mess, but you stop when Erik continues.

“Or when you finish absorbing a dragon soul, and you’re standing there all roughed up from the battle, but glowing with so much … power. It’s like you’re radiating it.” He looks away absentmindedly for a second, recalling the sight, and there’s an extra lift to his features when he looks back to you. “To be honest, that always takes my breath away.”

Funny he says that, because right now, you’re the one left without proper breath. You just stare back at him, speechless.

Erik seems to suddenly realize the weight of his words on you. He inches back a bit, a sheepish grin making its way onto his freckled face. “Er, sorry if this is… a lot. I just think you should know. I think you’re always beautiful - even when you’re soggy from the rain.”

A brief stretch of silence passes, the dwindling fire making a few snaps and cracks. You’re still in the process of recollecting yourself, both mind and heart racing. But the warmth you formerly felt on your body starts to spread inwards, swelling in your chest, heart blossoming like a flower.

Erik averts his gaze to the fire. “I… didn’t cross a line, did I?”

“N-no, no,” you speak as you finally find your voice. “Sorry, it’s just… that is a lot.” You see the flash of panic in his eyes, and you go on before he can feel it any further. “But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t happy to hear it. Really happy.”

He looks at you, uncertainty still brimming his expression, but when he sees you smiling, almost beaming at him, he relaxes. He lets out a quiet, shaky breath.

“I didn’t know you saw me that way, is all,” you continue. Truth is, you always suspected- and hoped - he did, because then your feelings would be reciprocated. The fleeting comments and gestures of affection woven into your travels together wasn’t enough to be sure of anything, but it was enough to have you questioning and longing for more.

“Y-yes, well…” Erik rubs at his neck nervously. “I’m … not the best at being subtle. It’s usually either keep my mouth shut or babble like an idiot. And we know which one I just did.”

You laugh, which helps to put him more at ease as well. “Don’t worry, I’m glad you did. And I appreciate what you said. Thank you.”

You outstretch your hand to place it over his own. He flinches at first, which makes you feel a spike of worry. But then he is clasping your hand, encasing it firmly in rough skin hardened by weapon wielding.

“Your hand is so cold!” He nearly gasps.

“Probably from trying to wring out my wet hair.”

He shakes his head. “We can’t have that now.” He squeezes your hand, then brings it up to his face. He starts to pepper it with light kisses and warm breaths, and your giggle that follows is like music to his ears. In an effort to hear more, he tugs you closer and plants more rapid kisses all over your face, until you’re nearly shrieking in delighted laughter, and making a far too weak attempt to wriggle out of his tight embrace.

He finally stops, watching you with a lovesick gaze as you catch your breath. His eyes jump to and from your parted lips, and you feel him draw a deep breath in.

“Can I give you a real kiss?”

The grin you break out into could be a response all on its own, but you lean closer and give him a quiet “yes” anyway. He wastes no time in easing his hand along your jaw, cupping your cheek and leaning in the rest of the way.

It’s not the gentle, awkward kiss you had imagined would be your first. It’s hard, long - unyielding. There isn’t a shred of uncertainty from either of you, the months of suppressed emotions coming out in the form of firm lips and combined breaths and grabby hands. It’s almost overwhelming, the heat in your body leaving you nearly feverish. Yet you try to get closer still, hands tousling in the fabric of his shirt and letting him deepen the kiss.

The storm continues to rage on outside, but you are lost in something entirely new now. Memories of the rain and wind and cold are chased away, until they are long forgotten in the euphoric haze of tender kisses and tentative hands.

[bishie-in-tamriel]

My submission for a guild book project. Also proof that sometimes I draw wholesome things too.

[quicksilverdrabbles]

Morana: *staring into the mirror, frowning at how her hair grew to her shoulders* Mm...

Taliesin: *walking past, glancing into the room and making eye contact through the glass* ...? Are you okay, raven?

Morana: *eyes trained on the mirror* I'm fine.

Taliesin: *raises an eyebrow, walking to stand behind her and resting his chin on top of her head* You're not having negative thoughts, are you?

Morana: *smiles up at him* No, I'm not.

Taliesin: Good. What's on your mind then, darling?

Morana: ... My hair feels weird.

Taliesin: Hm? How so? *focuses on the mirror, watching as she tugs on a lock of her hair gently*

Morana: All my life I had short hair. With all the travelling we've done I haven't cut it in a while. I don't like how long it is.

Taliesin: Would you like me to trim it for you? I could style it a bit as well.

Morana: *blinks* You don't have to.

Taliesin: I don't mind. I quite like getting to spoil you a bit.

Morana: *scoffs, laughing* I don't think a haircut necessarily counts as spoiling me.

Taliesin: Say what you will~ Sit. *points to a chair* I will be right back.

Morana: *watches as he walks away with a happy little smile, glancing at her reflection in the mirror again before pulling the chair to sit in front of it*

Gore: *walks past the bathroom, glances in and stops* Hey, blood. Whatcha doing?

Morana: Tally's going to give me a haircut.

Gore: Yeah? What're you hoping for?

Morana: Something shorter. I don't really know how to style my hair, though. I never had to, with the mask.

Gore: I'm sure he'll help you out with that.

Taliesin: I'm back~ Oh, hello Gore. *slides past him back into the bathroom, situation himself behind Morana with a pair of scissors and a cloth he throws around her shoulders* Now, how short do you want it? General hair length, bangs, you name it.

Morana: Bangs?

Taliesin: This section of hair covering your eyes, raven. *chuckles, flipping a longer piece of hair out of her face* At most you'll want it short enough that it doesn't cover your eyes. And maybe...

Morana: Um.. Tally..?

Taliesin: Hm?

Morana: *frowning at her reflection* Can we... Leave this middle part a little bit longer?

Taliesin: Whatever for?

Morana: *pushes her hair up, revealing the hand tattoo on her forehead*

Gore: What's that?

Morana: ... *lowers her eyes, looking away from the mirror* A brand.

Taliesin: Oh. *takes her hand, holding it for a moment and letting the hair fall back over it* Yes, we can leave that covered, if you wish. I'll cut the rest of it so it's not in the way.

Morana: Thank you.

Gore: *sits on the floor next to her, leaning against her chair with a smile* I'm just gonna hang out here, if that's okay. Can't trust him with the whole process, y'know?

Taliesin: Excuse me!

Morana: Hehehe... Okay.

Taliesin: Ugh.

~

Morana: *steps out of the bathroom, fiddling with her hair with a happy smile as she walks into the living room*

Lucien: *looks up from the book he's reading* Hello, Mora- oh! *perks up* You've cut your hair!

Inigo: *leans over the couch to see* It looks very nice.

Xelzaz: Did you cut it yourself?

Morana: *shakes her head* Tally did it for me.

Xelzaz: Ah. Of course.

Kaidan: *walks into the room with a raised eyebrow* What's all this ruckus.. about.. *stops, a red blush rising to his cheeks when he sees Morana* Oh. You cut your hair.

Mkrana: *blushes, shying away from his gaze* ... Do you like it?

Kaidan: *smiles, walking forward and resting a hand on her head gently* It looks great on you. You're very beautiful.

Gore: Aaaaand that's my cue to leave.

Xelzaz: Agreed.

Kaidan: Oh, shove off.

Taliesin: *walking out of the bathroom with a smug smile* Oh hello, Kaidan. Do you like my handiwork?

Kaidan: *scoffs* Should've known this was you.

Taliesin: Oh~? Does this mean you don't like how our raven looks?

Kaidan: I didn't say that!

Morana: Hehe.. Tally, don't tease him.

Taliesin: Please, teasing Kaidan is one of my favorite past-times.

Kaidan: Right that's it-

Taliesin: Wait no NOT THE HAIR-

[gloomwitchwrites]

requesting for 1k event:

Taking a bath with. Teldryn Sero (Naughty)

I am fully aware that it says naughty in the request, but you also requested Teldryn with an (innocent) bath as well. To make it easier on myself, I combined the two for this prompt. We’ll start with the sweet (innocent) stuff before we start encroaching on more dangerous territory. I’ve stuck to gn!reader for this one. Enjoy!

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): fluff, suggestive themes, intimacy

Word Count: 408

Teldryn Sero x gn!reader

A/N: Thank you to everyone who sent in requests for the 1k follower event. This event is closed and I am not taking any more requests. Thank you!

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // 1k follower event masterlist

Innocent:

Teldryn who doesn’t often get to bathe while working as a mercenary. In fact, it rather peeves him that he cannot just find a peaceful place to wash down every once in a while. The Chitin armor he wears can grow smelly if it’s not taken care of.

Teldryn who might wash up in a stream, river, or lake if he absolutely has to but prefers an actual soak in a tub.

Teldryn who will absolutely pay an arm and a leg to have bath when he stays somewhere for the night. Even if all he gets is a large wooden basin and some basic soap, Teldryn is jumping at the opportunity to soak.

Teldryn who prefers steaming hot water that might scald the skin of paler folk.

Teldryn who likes to lather up and scrub every inch twice over before he actually feels clean.

Teldryn who is totally comfortable drinking himself into a stupor and gorging himself on finger foods while soaking.

Teldryn who does enjoy more than just his company in the bath. With you, he would enjoy you reclining against him or soaking opposite if the tub is big enough.

Teldryn who wouldn’t mind washing you down especially if you’d had a long day or if you were out exploring the world with him. Muscles soreness needs gentleness and a loving hand.

Naughty (MDNI):

Teldryn who isn’t afraid to be a tease if you’re in the room. He’ll take his time undressing. He’ll show off all his muscles. He might even flex. It’s to tempt you into coming with him. To join him in the warm water so he can have you all to himself.

Teldryn who will overexaggerate every movement to tempt you further if you won’t join him. He’ll even purposefully touch himself in a way that you know exactly what’s happening beneath the water.

Teldryn who won’t be able to stop touching you once you join him. He might scrub you down and lather up your skin with the soap, but he’s doing more than that. Teldryn wants to touch you.

Teldryn who is going to use this time to make you ache for him before this is all over.

Teldryn who will relentlessly tease about how needful you are. He loves to hear you beg, and will make every effort to bring you to that point.

Teldryn who will use this opportunity as a kind of foreplay for the real thing.

taglist:

@glassgulls @childofyuggoth @km-ffluv @singleteapot @tiredmetalenthusiast

@coffeecaketornado @miaraei @cherryofdeath @miss-mistinguett @ninman82

[fatherentropy]

realized I never calibrated CSP's pen pressure and also still trying to learn how to draw Laury's gods forsaken maw so... here we are

[fangsandsoftgrass]

Would u guys b interested in a short lil stargazing fic 👉👈

[madamefluffnstuff]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @hircines-hunter 💜💜💜

(sighs and hangs head in shame) I had started this little gift for @i-simp-for-fennorian I don't even know how long ago, set it down for the night, and promptly forgot it was a thing that existed the next morning. Me happening upon it randomly the other day was probably a sign I need to finish it..... and my backlog of WIPs.....

I am so sorry. My memory is terrible.

It was Fennorian who figured it out before she did. After another episode where she nearly went feral, he sat Evelynn down on their bed and handed her her designated flask. As she gratefully took a less than ladylike swig, he gently questioned her; “What’s the matter, love? You’ve never done this before. I know you’re... somewhat recently turned, but…” She let out a heavy sigh as she stared at the wall. “I don’t know, honestly. My bloodlust is just… So intense now…” Evelynn shook her head to clear it, to try to make sense of what was happening. The dark, viscous fluid gradually warmed up her body and brought her back to her senses, though focusing on the aforementioned wall was much easier than thinking at the moment.  Fenn quirked an eyebrow as he watched her; sudden and ferocious bloodlust, general exhaustion, brain fog. This was nothing he had encountered before- in a sane vampire, at least. As Evelynn started to softly ramble, mostly to herself, he blinked and his eyes glowed red. Perhaps if he could check her vitals, maybe it could give him a clue as to what was plaguing his beloved.  He stared at her a moment while his Sight kicked in. Her face and body slowly began to blur, and Fennorian focused on what he could see inside her: Immediately there was no sign of poison, which was a great relief. The blood she’d just consumed was coursing through her veins, also normal. His eyes slowly scanned up and down her body as he took a slow sip from his flask. He used his tongue to swish it into his cheek while he concentrated, Evelynn’s Undead Essence softly throbbing like an aura around her nearly mesmerized him.

[darlingrini]

Been indulging a lot in skyrim, so have these Skyrim!Rini doodles, I love the idea of being a mix of wood elf/breton 🥺💕 I've been playing a lot of the Skyrim Romance Mod w/ Bishop and Kaidan Follower Mod. So added some Bishop doodles uwu he's such a crude grump i love him 💕🐺

[late-nite-scholar]

Aug 15 (Day 4)-Thief/Enamoured

Azuri is visited by an unexpected guest and it’s lovely. Prompts by @tes-summer-fest

Dunmer LDB x Kharjo

Warnings- none

Wordcount- ~840

***

“Someone to see you, Archmage.”

Azuri stood up from the little garden bed, she’d been almost finished anyway. “Of course.”

A Khajiiti woman stepped forward as the servant retreated. Azuri craned her neck upward; the other woman was larger than anyone she’d ever met. She was easily ten feet tall and massively built with grey, stripey fur. She wore elegant Khajiiti plate armor that was enamelled a deep, lustrous purple. It was quite possibly the prettiest armor Azuri had ever seen.  

“May this one kneel to be closer? Some do not like that, but some like it too much.” The woman’s voice was brighter than Azuri anticipated. 

“Oh… yes. I wouldn’t mind. It would make it easier to talk.”

The other woman knelt; her tufted ears twitching in amusement. But her smile was kind, and oh, so familiar. “This one is pleased to meet you. This one is Chihari.”

They shook hands as the pieces fell into place. “Azuri Indoril. You’re Kharjo’s sister?”

“Yes. And Khajiit is honored to meet you.”

“The feeling is mutual. Kharjo has told me a lot about you. Oh, but where are my manners? Come, let’s go sit and have some refreshments. I’m sure you’ve had a long trip all the way up here to Winterhold.”  

“You are most kind, Azuri.”

They headed up to the Archmage’s quarters, Chihari ducking under most doorways as they passed. Azuri gave her a rueful smile. “My apologies. I guess they didn’t account for taller people coming through here.”

“Khajiit is accustomed to it. Few places are built with Pahmar-raht in mind.”

Once they had settled around the table in the Archmage’s rooms, servants brought some snacks to complement the refreshments that Azuri already had.

“Oh, you have sweetcakes!” Chihari exclaimed, settling into the oversized armchair that Azuri had dragged over. “Ah, it is good to have a chair that fits.”

“I have plenty of drink options, also. Would you prefer cane mead or tea? I have mint and Khenarthi’s Wings Chai?”

“Ah, mint tea would be lovely. This one did not expect so many options from home in this place.”

Azuri smiled as she assembled the pot of tea and warmed it with a flame spell. “I am also far from my home. I know how it is to miss the things we leave behind. So I try to bring what I can here. So we can at least have little things like this.”

“That is a most wonderful thing. I can see why Kharjo is enamoured with you.” Her ears twitched, and Azuri knew she was doing the Khajiit equivalent of blushing. “He has sent me many letters. He speaks of you often in them.”

Azuri’s own face warmed. “I didn’t know that. I knew you two wrote back and forth, but not what about.” 

“Ah. Well, Khajiit thought to come meet you for myself. This one escorted a delegation to Solitude, and now that service is done. So, Khajiit has come now to this Winterhold to meet you and to see this one’s brother. It has been a long time since we have seen each other.”

“I think this will be a lovely surprise for him! It has been for me.”

“You are too kind, Azuri.”

***

Kharjo all but bounded up the steps to the Archmage’s rooms. Korir had called the training of the new guards early, sending everyone home for the day for some holiday or another. It just meant he could go home all the earlier to his beloved. 

As he reached the door he heard laughter from the other side. They had company? He wondered who’d come to visit? Perhaps Besharat? Or maybe Thaeril had come up from Riften? He supposed it would be nice to visit for a while…

As he opened the door, every thought flew out of his head. “Chihari?”

She crossed the room in three giant steps, gathering him into a hug that lifted him off the ground. “Kharjo!”

“You are… you are here?” he stammered as she set him down. 

“Indeed. I came to Skyrim with a job and now I am free to visit you and meet the one you are enamoured with.”

Azuri giggled as she stepped up, kissing him on the cheek. “We’ve had a lovely afternoon. I’m glad you’re home early to join us. Would you like some tea?”

His arm slipped around her waist as he smiled. “Khajiit would like that very much. My thanks, Moonbeam.” 

“You could use it after a long day of work. Come sit with us. I’d love to hear more stories now that you’re both here.”

“Of course. Chihari has not told too many embarrassing stories about Kharjo, has she?” he teased. 

“Only the ones that are true!” his sister laughed. 

As they all sat again, Khrjo found himself now thankful they had company. He had never in his wildest dreams imagined he would be able to sit at a table with both his beloved Azuri and his beloved sister. And to see them laugh and joke as if they were old friends? It was better than he could have imagined. In fact, it was perfect.