LISTEN! Don't judge me, okay!
You guys don't understand i got it so bad for Vile!
This is straight out of my friend Rae's fic
DON'T CLICK IF YOU'RE BABY!
GTFO MY BLOG! 🔞🔞🔞🍆💦
UNHINGED CONTENT AHEAD!
The fic: Drama at HQ
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Uphold the Light
Phew! Okay @kookaburra1701 here is Mara looking after her champion, Ennis. (: Against...what? I wonder... >:}
HUGE SHOUTOUT to @gilgamish for the beta and the HYPE!!! Ah I loved writing this one!
Tagging @paraparadigm, @polypolymorph, @thana-topsy, @changelingsandothernonsense, @dirty-bosmer and @throughtrialbyfire for the weird god voice fic things <3
Without further ado:
Uphold the Light
You have stood tall in fields rife with crops all your life, and I have kept close by, though you cannot see me. You call yourself Ennis of Rorikstead, but I have always carried your true name in my hands—a knotted rope of a thing, complicated in its simplicity, the sound of it music to the soil beneath your feet. You do not know it like I do. Each seedling that sprouts and reaches toward the sun holds the syllables; each harvest becomes another title.
You are, however, aware of a certain darkness. The kind that creeps in shadows sent flying from the setting sun, rays hidden behind mountains and buildings. This is the same shade which has pulled my hands from yours, and continues to keep us separate, hiding under the guise of answered prayers. And yes, things will grow in soil devoid of my touch—but you have long suspected I had been here, once, and was forced away. You see it in the strange paleness of newly sprouted plants, and in the dark spots of blight on freshly pulled potatoes. You do not voice your concerns. Instead, as autumn encroaches on your land, you work and you pray and you wait to see when dawn will break again. You have always felt closest to me in the earliest sunlight. The night, we both know, is another story entirely.
Under murk as thick as mud in riverbeds, twisted between the roots and rocks, pestilence sleeps. They feed it—your kin, your neighbors, your leaders—with the souls and limbs of my daughters. Their bones sink into soil, once barren, and my gifts upon them are returned to Nirn. Their souls, however, are lost. I do not hold them in my arms. I was not granted the final embrace. The thing which calls itself the savior of this barren ground keeps them in constant torment, fueling His realm. The exchange for their suffering is the prosperity of your people. You understand there is something amiss. In tilling the fields, you’ve found the bits of bone devoid of marrow, the teeth, the nails. Reldith implores your ignorance, insisting all fields are the same, and heavy is the burden of a farmer turning soil which has been home to ghosts of bygone ages.
You know, deep down, there is more to this than she insists. You do not speak your apprehension at her statement, though you have toiled with the worry sprouting in the back of your mind.
I cannot take these fears from you, or to protect you from the tremors of this deal—or what it would mean for the pact to end. -> Read the rest on AO3.
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