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deadlymousex01 · 2 months

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Skyrim Characters when you get hurt

Farkas, Brynjolf, Nazier, Aela, Arnbjorn, Lydia

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

Farkas

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

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

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

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

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

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

Brynjolf

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nazier

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aela

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Arnbjorn

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes, love."

Lydia

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#skyrim men #farkas #brynjolf #arnbjorn #skyrim #aela the huntress #lydia #skyrim fandom #skyrim fanfiction #skyrim headcanon

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sparda-ly · 1 year

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Hi, I saw your requests are open, so she's taking my chances to hopefully get something. Could I hopefully get j'zargo, arcano, and miraak when their jealous, please?

(jealous) j'zargo, ancano, miraak x reader

note: hey there! sure! i hope this isn't so bad and cringe, especially j'zargo's part, he's a very difficult character to write!

warnings: none

j'zargo

j'zargo being a khajit definitely helps him sense a lot of things

whether it's danger, fire, breaths, or simple whispers, he is quick to notice when something is wrong

but this time it was a little different

j'zargo was in the hall of attainment when he noticed you talking to odmund

he suddenely could hear his hearbeat quickening and words getting messed up

he felt something in his chest looking at you two getting along a little too well for his comfort

j'zargo makes everything a competition, however he wasn't looking forward to this one, which is really suprising

coming up to both of you, he listens for a bit and decides to join the conversation

"j'zargo doesn't find you amusing ogmund, if you spend so much time trying to steal j'zargo's y/n, you might as well give up on your dream involving becoming a nord mage"

he takes your hands with his and leaves the hall, leading to the quaters

"j'zargo doesn't like you talking to ogmund. he doesn't trust him"

"he's just an acquaintance, he helps me with my spells. no need to be jealous"

he huffs and responds with "you don't need him. j'zargo can teach you anything you'd like"

you just smile and nod appreciatively, thankful for such an amazing husband

ancano

when ancano is jealous, he always overuses the punishments he can give away as an "advisor"

if he so much as sees someone looking at you for too long, he just knows the perfect way to make them regret it

he gets jealous very quickly, probably because under that confident and arrogant mask is an insecure man

you were talking with one of the new students the other day, some random guy, when you noticed he was blushing and blabbering nonsense

you of course didn't think a lot about it, you're used to it plus you are loyal to a very strict altmer

it was fine at first, just small talk but then the "touching" started

arcano appeared next to you in a second, grabbing that guys robes, looking at him in disgust

"what your filthy hands apprentice, or you might lose them soon"

let's just say that you never saw the guy again.

miraak

to be honest, miraak doesn't get jealous often

he knows he is powerful and could just destroy anyone that ever wanted to ruin things between you two

he feels more threatened by himself, he understands his actions are often questionable and rash

however there are situations where he feels at least a bit of jealousy, you won't ever hear him admit it though

if anyone sticks around you for too long, follows you all the time and tries to steal your attention

miraak notices it immediately.

one single glare and the person instantly understands, giving up hope for any interaction with you for a long ass time

you don't really see any of these situations happening, miraak knows how to be slick and also he doesn't want you to be concerned about such little unimportant things

when you notice that some servants are missing, you begin to question him where did they dissapear to?

he feeds you some lie and carries on like nothing ever happened

the less you know, the better you sleep at night

#skyrim x reader #skyrim #skyrim x y/n #ancano #ancano x reader #j'zargo #j'zargo x reader #miraak #miraak x reader #skyrim fandom #skyrim fanfiction #jzargo #skyrim miraak #skyrim j'zargo #skyrim ancano

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arynsimpy · 10 months

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Serana🦇

#art #drawing #digital art #my art style #sketch #skyrim #skyrim followers #serana #skyrim serana #skyrim fanart #skyrim fandom

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daedricxprincess · 10 months

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pixel skyrim weapons

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matri4rch · 8 months

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YK what? I'm feeling INSPIRED

Drop some Skyrim OCS (yours or others) in my asks/reblogs/comments and I'll draw them. This community is so nice and I want to show my appreciation for everyone here 🥹🤍

oc: Atmora Dragonsdottir

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mrissi-gamergirl · 11 months

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Skyrim being Skyrim…

Erandur &Inigo swimming in the air

#skyrim #skyrim fandom #skyrim bugs #erandur #inigo the brave #inigo skyrim #inigo mod #swimming #game bugs #overmodded Skyrim #gamer girl #gamers of tumblr

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sunlitbabee · 9 months

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Hi so this is the first time I'm posting my art. I've been very insecure about making and posting art so I decided to post this to help me overcome my fearm

Anyhow enjoy Brynjolf in a Eren Jaegar hairstyle.

(P.s let me know if ya'll are more interested in seeing more art! Also credit me pls for reblogs and pfp! )

#skyrim #skyrim fanart #fanart #brynjolf #artists on tumblr #queer artist #digital artist #small artist #artwork #art #disabled artist #skyrim art #skyrim fandom #my husband #i love him #eren jaeger #headcanon

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theplainwriter · 3 months

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Marry, Fuck, Kill

Go!

#skyrim elder scrolls #skyrim fandom #elderscrolls #skyrim #whiterun #fuck marry kill

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mrissineko · 11 months

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I wish I was a Sailor Moon 🌙 character or a ✨Mrissi mod in Skyrim 💕💕💕💕

#sailor moon #pink hair #neko girl #mrissi neko #gamer girl #skyrim girl #skyrim fandom #gamers of tumblr #cosplay girls #mrissineko #cute neko #cosplayer #pastel kawaii #lolicore #catgirl

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vorpalfae · 11 months

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𝕾𝐤𝖞𝖗𝖎𝖒 𝕾𝖕𝖊𝖑𝖑 𝕿𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖘🔮🐉📚✨

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pulsarr4 · 9 months

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Serana in combat

#elder scrolls #the elder scrolls #skyrim #the elder scrolls 5 #skyrim fandom #skyrim fanart #serana #nord #vampire #tes

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deadlymousex01 · 9 months

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Skyrim men reacting to s/o being pregnant

Farkas, Nazier, Brynolf, Bailmund

Fair warning for Nazier and Brynolf it's written as if your in a relationship but nothing very serious as a nod to the fact you can't marry these men in game....still unhappy about that....the others are written as if you're married

Apologies if these are a bit long, wanna do it justice! Enjoy!! :)

Farkas

When Farkas returned from the job he was sent on he went straight into your shared home of Breezehome, where you greeted him with a big hug and kiss as well as a refreshing mug of ale. Setting the mug down for a moment to shed his heavy armor he didn't notice your nervous twitches as you waiting for him to get comfortable to share the news. As he collapsed in the chair with a groan he picks up the ale again.

"So did you do anything interesting while I was gone?" he'd ask. You shrugged clearing you throat trying to find the way to word it.

"Well I did a few odd jobs, helped the guards kill some vampires and uh...oh I uh...I learned something new about myself."

"Oh really? What's that?" He asks taking a big drink of the ale.

"I'm pregnant." The poor man chokes and coughs hard as ale flies out of his mouth and nose at the shock of your words. You're left sitting there speechless and wide eyed as the man you love is coughing and wiping his face trying to recover before he looked up at you with the same wide eyed expression.

"YOU'RE WHAT?!"

"Pregnant." The man stared at you like you had grown two heads, which in a way you slowly were. Farkas stared at you for so long you started to fidget thinking that he was unhappy with the news so you try to tell him more details.

"I found out after the vampire fight, I was more tired than I usually was and Aela commented that my scent was different. I realized it's been a little over a month since my last bleed so I went to the temple and the healers confirmed it...at this moment I'm about a 2 months." Farkas was stunned, he didn't even think that the night you two shared before he left could of resulted in a child, he honestly never really thought about having kids. Slowly he slid out of the chair and stood on his knees next to your's lightly placing his hand on your stomach.

"You're pregnant....Gods I never thought...I mean..." He couldn't find the words and he never cursed so much before now that he wasn't his brother who could tell you so easily how happy he was. Looking up at you he cups your face before pulling you down into a gentle kiss like you were made of glass, pulling away with a smile.

"Let's hope the poor pup doesn't get my ugly mug." With a laugh you kiss him back resting your forehead against his, knowing that even though it was unexpected the two of you were going to make this work together.

Nazier

Nazier was used to you vanishing for weeks or months at a time, your duties as Listener and Dragonborn kept you busy, which is why the casual relationship the two of you shared worked well for him. It allowed you both to fill the desires you both had as well as make it so the distance didn't hinder the work you both needed to do.

When you returned from your travels you looked pretty tired and beat up, which struck him as odd, as you could handle yourself with almost anything. Putting some hot stew into a bowl, grabbing some fresh bread and a mug of mead he went down to the living quarters where you had retreated to. Smelling the stew you turn and give him a smile as you start to remove your armor.

"Thought you might need this, you looked pretty beat up. Rough travels?" He asks setting the food down on the table and sitting down in one of the seats next to it.

"You could say that. Fought a dragon outside Windhelm, got hurt and ended up stuck at the temple for a few weeks before I was able to get back here." you explain setting down the last of your armor. You were thankful for the loose tunic you were wearing as it hit your slightly bulging belly, you wanted to break the news to him before he saw it.

"A few weeks at temple? You must of been hurt bad, are you alright?" He asked concerned, the Brotherhood just found it's Listener and he didn't think they'd survive without you. Sitting in the open chair you pull the bowl to you and take a bite sighing happily at the flavors. Nazier may be a murder but he's also a damn good cook. You finish your bite before looking up at him.

"I wasn't hurt to bad, they kept me because they found out I have....something else happening with me..."

"Something else? What else?" You sigh before putting the spoon back in the bowl deciding just to get it over with.

"When I got hurt it was in my shoulder and ribs and while the healers were taking care of me...they found out I'm pregnant..." You look him in the eyes and as your words sink in. You can see him stiffen and look down at your belly.

"They kept me longer to make sure there was no harm done to the baby and only when they were satisfied did they let me go...I...I came straight here to tell you, ran into some wolves just outside of town that's why I looked rough but I kept going because I needed to tell you." Nazier nodded slowly when you finished talking the weight of everything setting heavily on his shoulders. You were pregnant and while the two of you were not serious with each other he knew you weren't seeing anyone else, you wouldn't be telling him otherwise, so it had to be his.

"How... how far along are you?" He asked slowly. you set your hand on your stomach the fabric tightening showing your small bump.

"Three and a half months." Nazier nodded again before sighing and running a hand down his face before leaning his elbows on the table.

"I'll be honest; this isn't something I was counting on when we started our little meet ups. I'm a murder, I don't know how to raise kids and I've never been the most maternal of people however...." He looks you in the eye "I am here for you. If you want to take it to the orphanage after it's born I will support you, if you want to keep it I will do my best to help."

"I want to keep it." You say looking him dead in the eye as well so he knows how serious you are. He stares at you for a second before leaning back in the chair with a smile.

"Then I suppose our little family here is growing again."

Brynjolf

Brynjolf had had no time for you anymore. The two of you had shared beds many times before Mercer's betrayal and even did so again before that final battle. Now that you were the guild master you expected that to continue not to have him suddenly want nothing to do with you. Frustrated you spent less and less time around the Flaggon, spending more time on the road. It wasn't until you were in Solitude taking care of business did you realize it had been three months since your last bleed and your belly and breasts had gotten bigger. You knew what it meant and you knew who the father had to be, so you started the long trek back to Riften.

As you enter the city gates you adjust your cloak around your shoulders to cover your front. Heading into the grave yard you ope the secret entrance and head down. Climbing down that ladder you're greeted by Sapphire and Rune. Nodding to them you spot Brynjolf and take a steading breath before heading over to him.

"Brynjolf, we need to talk."

"Sorry lass, I've important things to do. We'll speak another time." He says and starts turning to walk away from you. It may have been your frustrations for how he's been treating you or your hormones acting up but you were not going to take that. Grabbing the belt that hold the pouches on the front of his armor you pull him around to face you leaving him stunned by your strength and the anger on your face.

"No! We are talking now!" You almost yell before dragging him towards the training area. All the thieves in the area made a clear path for you wanting nothing to do with your rage. Once in the room you yelled out to the others there and they quickly ran out like their lives depended on it. You dragged him over to the training chests and forced him to sit on one of them before leaning down and pointing your finger in his face.

"You are going to sit there and be quiet until I'm done talking and your not leaving here until I'm done or so help me I will shout you right through the wall behind you!" Brynjolf nods and sits more comfortably on the chest giving you his full attention. He had never seen you this angry, it was both sexy and terrifying. You stand up straight looking at him dead in the eyes.

"You have been ignoring me, dismissive of me, and rude to me. You constantly make excuses not to talk to me and I've had enough, I need to tell you something important and I need you to listen well; I'm pregnant." Brynjolf wasn't sure what he was expecting you to say but it wasn't that, the man sitting on the chest suddenly looked like his brain shut off so with a sigh you continue moving your cloak so he can see your slightly belly.

"I'm three and a half months, and before you ask yes it's yours. You're the only man I've been with so there's no chance it's anyone else. I'm not asking you to quit the guild and go straight I know you can't. I'm only telling you this because you deserve to know, and because I am keeping it. I've a home here in Riften, I got after getting the Jarl to make me a Thane, I plan on living here but if it's a problem I do have a home in Whiterun. I do plan to return to the Guild after the child is no longer a helpless babe, but until then I won't be here much."

You finish your speech and look at him as you rest your hand on top of your belly. It wasn't something you did often but when you did it was a comfort. Brynjolf to his credit did sit and not interrupt you once during your talk and only when you seemed did he start to speak.

"Well you're right about one thing lass, I can't go straight. I've been in the guild to long to give it all up, that being said; I won't let you do this alone." That last bit shocked you as he stood up and gently placed a hand over yours.

"This is certainly unexpected, but any thief will tell you that sometimes you have to improvise. I'm sorry for ignoring you and making you feel tossed aside. If you live here in Riften I will be here with you, I will be here for the child. Everyone here knows I'm with the guild so I'm not worried about blowing cover. This is a new adventure and I've never been one to back down from a challenge. Besides with skills like ours our child will be the greatest thief in all of Skyrim and the world!"

Balimund

You stand in front of the cooking pot feeling happy and content. Alduin had been defeated, the civil war was over and while there was still some dragons to deal with most decided to follow Parthanaax. Now you could take a breath and relax. After most of your travels were done you had returned to Riften and found Balimund, wearing a amulet of mara you had both agreed to wed. Balimund had captured your heart when you knew his; his kind heart in taking in Asbjorn from the orphanage and training him, to his gratitude when you brought him the fire salts.

The door opens as your husband enters hot and tired from a day of working the forge. He walks over and gives you a kiss before going to wash up. When he comes back you've got dinner on the table and you and Asbjorn are already starting to eat. As he sits down and starts eating you feel both nervous and excited at the same time before you take a breath to calm yourself before sharing the news. Before you get the chance he turns to look at you.

"This is incredible, you're an amazing cook dear! Much better than we are." His praise never failed to make you smile or love him even more. Asbjorn nodded in agreement.

"I agree, watching him try to cook fish was always a nightmare, missed so many bones and ruined the fish." Balimund nudged him with his elbow before taking another bite and then asking another question.

"By the way, did you go to the temple today to get healed from being sick?" You had been sick the last few days and decided to go to the temple to see if they could heal you as healing potions didn't seem to help. It was there you were told you were pregnant and the smile that had been on your face when you found out had never left.

"Yes I did and it turns out I'm not sick...I'm pregnant." Balimund coughed choking on air for a moment while Asbjorn gave you a big smile.

"That's incredible! Congratulations to the both of you!" Balimund managed to remember how to breathe before he stood up quickly and pulled you into a big hug, picking you up and spinning you aorund.

"Gods be praised! This is the best news I've ever heard!" Setting you down gently he cupped your face and gave you a deep passionate kiss before pulling away with a big smile.

"I thought I was the happiest man in the world when you agreed to marry me but you continue to make me even happier. I'll get started working on a cradle tomorrow as well as taking some more orders to bring in more gold. Asbjorn; I know you'll have no problem handling the forge for a while when the baby arrives."

"Of course, I'm happy to help and happy for the both of you." The both of you sat down and continued to eat dinner, when you were going to go to Sovrenguard to battle Alduin you weren't sure you would ever have this but now here you are, with your growing family, with a happy air and a excitement for the future.

#farkas #brynjolf #skyrim men #skyrim fanfiction #skyrim #skyrim fandom #pregnancy #pregnant #female reader #balimund

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concussed-to-pieces · 1 year

Text

More Honest

Fandom: The Elder Scrolls Five: Skyrim

Pairing: Argis the Bulwark/F!Dragonborn

Rating: Holy shit M.

Author's Note: Happy Valentine's Day, gang! I hope you all like this indulgent little shindig inspired by a glitch that I encountered. Enjoy!

Tag List: @stargazerofgoldenwords @toxiicpop @thirstworldproblemss

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains canon-typical violence and unprotected sex between two consenting adults. Stay safe!]

Argis had always just assumed the leather thong around her neck bore a pendant of Talos. It would explain her hiding it beneath her clothes for the entirety of their partnership, and it would also explain her never taking it off. Many of his fellow Nords had a difficult time accepting the ruling on Talos.

So he was stunned when, one night at the tavern, the pendant that slipped out from beneath her undertunic was…

"An amulet of Mara?" He had asked before he could stop himself, his brow furrowed. "You're looking for marriage, then?"

Tor had gone red in the face, waving him off with an awkward cough. "I've been a follower of Mara since I was very little. I even made this pendant myself, see?" The Nord woman turned the bauble in her hands, showing Argis just how rough the traditionally-smooth edges were. "As you can tell, jewelry-crafting was not my strong suit. I was a stripling when I forged these beads and the pendant, and my patience was thin." She explained, chuckling quietly.

"It's better that way, isn't it?" Argis found himself saying. "More honest. Mara accepts us despite our faults, if I remember those long-winded sermons right."

Tor nodded. "Aye, she loves us and wishes us to love in turn. One of the things that drew me to her is that the world is far more cruel than it needs to be. I would…make it less so." She carefully tucked the amulet back beneath her clothing and, seeming to realize he had watched her do it, rushed to clarify. "I've kept it hidden since I came of age to marry," she elaborated with a sad smile. "There have always been far too many pressing concerns to trouble myself with finding a partner."

The discussion had been brief, begun and ended just as quickly. So why couldn't he get it out of his head?

…

"Why not worship Dibella? Her followers make many lofty claims in the name of love." Multitudes of beautiful men and women made their way to the shrine of Dibella every day, clad in a conglomeration of tastefully minimal garb. Surely the goddess of beauty and passion's worship would go hand in hand with the goddess of love!

"I am not nearly so vain as to believe I could become a worshipper of Dibella!" Tor had roared draconically with laughter at his suggestion, amber eyes alight. "Argis, I cannot parade like a peacock with the rest of Dibella's comely faithful. There is far too much work to be done."

"Aye, but-" Argis had paused, her words catching up to him. "My Thane, you are more than capable of being one of Dibella's faithful." He insisted boldly, unsure of where this bravery came from.

Tor's laugh was a bit softer this time. "This body has taken a beating, Argis. I am not some soft and unmarred offering."

"It is better that way, isn't it?" Argis found himself echoing what he had said months ago. "More honest. Love is not young and untouched, but neither is it old and weary. Love…it endures through hardships, after the passion has faded."

Tor had given him a curious look, nudging her mount with her heel to bring their horses closer together. "Oddly profound for you, my housecarl." Her tone was teasing, yet serious enough that Argis knew he was on thin ice.

"I meant no disrespect to you, my Thane. It was a simple observation, nothing more."

"Then I will take the compliment." Tor had winked at him, then clicked her tongue to urge her horse into a canter.

…

Those conversations resounded in his head now as he stared at the innkeeper, who stared back at him with a perplexed expression. Kleppr finally asked, "what ails you, Argis? You look as though you've seen a ghost!"

"N-Nothing, nothing is wrong." Argis fumbled to respond, his mind already miles away. Two days ago. She accepted that job two days ago. I only noticed her bow was gone yesterday. She's been gone two days and she didn't bring her axe--the stables, I'll ask at the stables. If her horse is still there, that means she's on foot.

The Forsworn had been harassing travelers more and more often; no doubt they had caught wind that the Dragonborn resided in Markarth. It only made sense that the Jarl would post a bounty for the clearing out of a camp nearby.

Argis stormed through the tiny market, heading for the gate. One step at a time, he told himself, trying to quell the rapidly rising panic that was gripping his throat. We gather information.

He didn't even have to question the stable attendant; the enormous head of Tor's horse (a dun beast by the name of Zace) was clearly visible over the half-closed stall door. The horse whinnied at the sight of Argis, no doubt expecting the Nord to come bearing the usual treats. Argis' own horse Tannin, the ungrateful bastard, didn't even look up from his manger.

Argis fretted for a moment, scratching Zace's pink muzzle. He quickly made his choice though, beginning to saddle both horses. He would find her faster riding than on foot.

Hopefully.

…

Well, Tor thought, in pain and more than a little concerned, this is a fine mess I've gotten myself into.

The plan, inasmuch as there was one, had been to scout the encampment and retrieve Argis once she was confident she had memorized the layout. The camp had been a bit further away than she had been led to believe, but Tor was confident they could easily reach it before the denizens of said camp decided to launch another raid.

However, she hadn't anticipated the Forsworn would be led by a hagraven. The unsettling amalgamation of avian and woman had sniffed her out almost immediately and, armed only with a rarely-used bow and limited magics, Tor had been captured. She had Shouted one of their warriors to his death, sending his body flying off the edge of a cliff, but that had just whipped the rest of them into a frenzy.

Their Briarheart had brought her down, striking what would have been a killing blow to a mere mortal when his saw-toothed blade tore through her side. Tor had been hard-pressed to stop the bleeding even with her healing spells, a task made all the more difficult by her captors frantically scrambling to bind and gag her.

Now she lay on a filthy pile of straw, attempting to glare daggers through the back of the Briarheart's head. He had been the one to rouse her from her uneasy doze in the weak, gloomy dawn, his antlered headpiece knocking the poorly-framed doorway of the hovel they kept her in. The entire structure shuddered with every gust of bitter Reach wind but still somehow managed to maintain its integrity. More’s the pity, the Dragonborn mused uncharitably, flexing her hands in their binds. They seemed to have gone numb while she slept, though whether from her position or the tightness of the ropes she could not say.

“...jarl will have no choice but to accede, once we can scrape together the paper,” came the wheezing, tremulous rasp of the hagraven. There, that shuffling drag of clawed feet over the paltry soil. So she was fast approaching. “Our demands will be many, as this is certainly a worthy prize.”

Tor grimaced. The Jarl of Markarth, Igmund, did not exactly relish her presence in Vlindrel Hall. She doubted whatever demands this hagraven had would be particularly well-received. Hell, it might be weeks before Igmund even found whatever missive they sent; he was often mired in tedious deliberations with the Thalmor for days on end.

The woman jerked upright as another thought struck her. Argis. She hadn't left a note, oh gods no. He hadn't been at Vlindrel when she departed either, which meant that any hope of rescue she may have harbored was quickly withering away. It could very well take a week for Argis to realize she was missing, and at that point Kleppr probably would have entirely forgotten that he had even given her that bounty…

Tor cursed herself inwardly, furious at her own ineptitude. Why did she always manage to land in these situations?! Alone, hogtied and headed to whatever axe-man the gods saw fit to place in her path this time. Except now she wasn't even able to use the Voice, and she doubted she could count on the dubious charity of Alduin to save her once more.

Normally, she prayed from force of habit, an evening routine forged in her early years by parents who were long gone. She had never received a direct answer to a prayer, but that hadn't dampened her faith. You must be realistic with your prayers, dear one, her mother had chided her one evening. This is not a wish. It is a prayer.

Mara, Tor begged silently, her eyes closed tight. Mara, please. I need help, I need something, anything. She could work with whatever she was given, but she knew she was running out of time. The hagraven may not wish to keep her alive, and little could turn the crow-wife from her path if she decided to snuff out the Dragonborn. No, Tor jolted, the realization making her stomach lurch. It would be much simpler to kill me and replace my heart, raise me under her control. The Forsworn with the Dragonborn on their side?

Gods, what a fool she had been. She had practically hobbled herself and fallen into their snare.

Talons curved beneath her chin, pricking the skin of her throat. "I know you are awake, little morsel." The hagraven growled, her breath hot and rank with the stench of old blood. Tor couldn't keep herself from flinching and the witch chuckled, a little jackdaw cackle. "Is it afraid of me? Poor sweetling." She cooed tenderly, clawed fingers raking through the mess of Tor's half-braided hair. The Nord woman bore this insult in silence, her teeth clenched into the gag while she continued to glare at the Briarheart. He had turned around to stare at her and his hagraven master, half-closed eyes uncannily glassy.

Briarhearts, as far as Tor knew, teetered on that gray edge of mortality, neither truly alive nor dead. Their existence was hellish at best and blatantly cruel at worst; freshly-deceased warriors wrested back from their eternal slumber by their blood-soaked matrons, the hagravens raising the body anew and enslaving the soul in the process. Tor had only witnessed one such raising and she had fell upon the feathered creatures and their corpse-spawn with such a violence that there had been nothing left but ash.

It seemed, however, that she would be joining their ranks soon. The hagraven, unnaturally strong even in that wizened frame, bent Tor over until her forehead was inches from the floor and slid a brown-stained bowl beneath her throat. "Cannot waste a drop of dragon blood." The hag explained needlessly, accepting a dark-bladed knife from the Briarheart. "It will not be swift. Try not to struggle, so you don't ruin your pretty, pretty flesh." Her tone was almost motherly, but it was thoroughly ruined by the horrible scrape of her voice.

Tor, of course, immediately began to struggle, thrashing as best as she could in the iron hold of the hagraven.

The Briarheart, who had returned to his post in the doorway, grunted suddenly, his hands half-raising. "What, can't you see I'm busy?" The hagraven spat in annoyance, squawking with alarm when the Briarheart fell to its knees. Argis, his sword still run through the briarheart fruit that had replaced the half-living warrior's heart, planted a foot in the Briarheart's back and tore his blade free.

"Where is-" he began in a fierce bellow, his volume stunning even Tor. The hagraven shrieked, talons bared, and she lunged at the large warrior. Her claws squealed against the metal of his sword, showering sparks on the floor before Argis managed to parry, the housecarl forcing his full weight down on the witch as a riposte to her attack.

Argis! Tor's eyes fell on the ceremonial dagger the hagraven had dropped and she flung herself on top of it, fingers clawing for the hilt in the straw and packed dirt of the floor.

…

Fire exploded around the edge of Argis' shield and he snarled, ignoring the flames licking over his hauberk sleeve while he slammed the sturdy metal into the hagraven's face. The witch reeled backwards from the blow, hurling curses at him in Bretic and some other foul tongue. Argis wasn't wildly sure, but he got the sense that a few future generations of his bloodline may have been involved in her wrathful incantations.

He for his part remained silent. Tor was alive, he had arrived in time. Relief had nearly brought him low, his defenses in shambles after the frantic dash on horseback over the mountainous, scrub bush-choked lands of the Reach. It had been all he could do to master himself before the hag reacted, only just managing to use his superior height and weight to break their stalemate. For all that their appearance was waifish and frail, hagravens had a terrible, wiry strength to their limbs.

The witch continued to scream and clamor at him like a wild beast, her raw-throated wailing threatening to wake the dead. Argis crashed the flat of his blade on his shield and shouted in retort, drowning her out with his own din until she seemed to snap under frustration. A whirling mass of feathers engulfed her and Argis braced himself for another attack. He didn't have to wait long, though the attack came from above and he was barely able to fling the hagraven away from him before she tore his remaining eye out. She howled in fury, her motions now a frenzied race to sink her claws into any exposed skin.

"Morsel, morsel!" she jibbered at him, which he rewarded with another stout slam of the shield against her beak-like nose. Her claws snagged in the sleeve of his hauberk and Argis was made abruptly aware of his own mortality, the warrior taking a hearty step back to pull the witch with him into the weak sunlight. A sharp, violent jerk later and he freed himself, but not without cost; his hauberk and the skin beneath it were rent deeply from those terrible talons.

The hag paused, seeming to notice the disarray of the filthy camp around her. There had only been six Forsworn Argis had found, but he knew if any of them escaped they would raise the alarm.

So none of them had escaped.

The witch gnashed her teeth, stamping those clawed feet on the ground and tearing at the dirt. "You'll pay for this, meat!" She raged, her eyes wild with madness. The feathers swirled once more, leaving Argis uncertain as to where her next attack would come from. Behind him, if he had to guess, and regrettably he was proven correct.

Claws hooked into his shoulders, shearing through his mail like it was simple leather and digging for purchase in the flesh beneath. He was dragged back a step before he could find his footing, then the Nord man gritted his teeth and lunged forwards, ripping free from her ferocious talons.

He whirled to face his foe with blade already raised to fend off the next attack, but the hag had suddenly gone still. A black point protruded from her throat and, as she collapsed in a heap, Tor was revealed behind her, the woman still in the process of thrusting the dagger home. The witch writhed on the ground for a moment, clawing futilely at her neck, then went limp.

"Tor," Argis breathed, simultaneously relieved and frantic. A deep wound marred Tor's side, the injury blotting her stained leathers black with blood. Argis stormed forward, seizing her arm. Tor looked up at him, her eyes wide, and he forced her to sit before she could manage to wriggle free. "Be still," the Nord man grated out through clenched teeth. "I'll fetch the horses."

"Argis, you're-"

"Be still." He barked, irritated when she jerked out of his hold. "Woman, I've been half out of my mind trying to find you. The least you can do is follow one simple order." The man seethed, panic sharpening his words to a razor edge.

"Argis." Tor snapped, her hand slamming down on the wound on his arm. The sudden pain had the large man breathless, and he dropped to one knee before he could steady himself. Golden light poured from beneath her hand, familiar healing magic knitting Argis' arm back together. "I'm fine." She insisted, her brow furrowed. "I'm fine, I-I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Were those…was she crying? Argis blinked rapidly, fumbling at her side. The skin beneath her thin traveling leathers was indeed fine; she must have healed her wound and all he had seen was the old blood still smeared on the area. "Thank the Nine." He sighed. "I thought…there was blood, I assumed the worst."

…

"I'm fine." Tor repeated tremulously, tears streaming unchecked down her face. She couldn't seem to stop them. She was fine, Argis was wounded but alive. Why was she crying?

"Aye, I suppose you are." Argis murmured, his touch uncharacteristically gentle when he cupped her cheek to wipe the tears away. Tor found herself crumpling, shoving her face into his chest and gripping his back like he would be torn from her if she didn't. After a moment, Argis' arms wrapped around her.

They were silent for a time, Tor with her ear pressed to his still-pounding heart and Argis with his chin resting on the top of her head.

"I'm glad I arrived in time." Argis said finally.

"As am I." Tor took a deep breath to steel her nerves, then pulled away. He was smiling, beaming at her and she was stunned silent by the sight. He smiled so rarely, to see him this pleased…

Argis shifted awkwardly under her stare, seeming a bit uncomfortable with her sudden muteness. "I should…er, get the horses."

Tor's ability to speak made an abrupt return as she asked, "did you bring any food?", her stomach rumbling the punctuation on her hopeful query. Her housecarl chuckled, assuring her that yes, he had indeed stocked the saddlebags.

Argis rose, offering her a hand up even as he swayed on his feet. Tor waved him off, worriedly examining the wounds on his shoulders. Tandem trios of raking claws had ribboned the hauberk, gambeson and flesh beneath them badly. Instead of complaining of the pain, Argis bemoaned the fact that he would need to have the chain mail repaired. Tor couldn't help her laugh at that.

Her housecarl, ever the pragmatist.

"Once I get some food into me, I'll make quick work of those scratches," Tor promised, draping Argis' arm over her shoulders to help him walk. He was a bit unsteady, which had her concerned.

"My Thane, I…" Argis paused, squinting. "My head feels odd," he admitted. "It's aching badly. The light hurts."

Hell. "Stay with me until you can show me where you left the horses, Argis." Tor instructed, tightening her hold on his arm. Argis nodded, his jaw set in a grim line.

After a short, stumbling eternity, the Nord man pointed toward a tangle of juniper across the next ridge. "There." It seemed to take most of his energy just to say that much; he sagged perceptibly after the word.

Tor knew she didn't have the strength left to drag him over the rise, so she settled him down on the ground. "Stay here, I'll bring the horses to us."

Argis blinked wearily up at her, his exhaustion evident in the way his head kept lolling forwards onto his chest. Tor puffed out a breath, and then turned to clamber up the steep incline.

Zace, bless his heart, was mouthing disinterestedly at the scrubby brush around him. Tannin noticed her first, if his huffing snort was any indicator. Zace whinnied loudly when she called his name, trotting to the end of his lead.

"Aye, I should have brought you." Tor allowed with a rueful smile, rubbing her mount's nose and then taking Tannin's reins.

…

Brain Rot, a common ailment when battling hagravens, had been what robbed the spirit from Argis' nigh-indomitable form. Oh certainly, the priestess of Dibella had assured that he would recover if he was allowed to rest, even offering her own body to lie beside him in an effort to break the fever that wracked his unconscious form.

Tor may have ushered the extremely-beautiful woman out of Vlindrel Hall a bit more hastily than was proper, but managing her jealousy had never been a strong suit. She had wondered more than once if it had something to do with her dragon blood and just how hot it ran. She tended towards fierce, almost single-minded protection of whatever she held dear, and Argis…

Argis was indeed dear to her. Not that he needed to know that, of course! It would be much simpler for him to find a normal partner, settle down with them and enjoy his life. Tor understood with a heavy sadness that should he turn his wandering eye to her, it would only lead him to grief…a life of violence, bloodshed and no-doubt eventual death at the hands of some ambitious soul. It was not a life she wished on any, and so she had stayed carefully distant. Whatever feelings bloomed in her heart were always hers alone to bear.

He had rescued her, though. That knowledge kept her awake fretting into the early hours, the foyer consistently frequented by restless pacing. She hadn't gotten the chance to ask him just why he had come after her so quickly, why he had thought that the Dragonborn wouldn't be able to manage a simple encampment of Forsworn. Admittedly, her Thu'um was not well-trained. A single full shout could leave her throat raw for hours, as it had during her bout with the Forsworn, and she was lax in her meditation. Inner peace hadn't seemed like a priority what with a world-ending beast breathing down her neck.

Perhaps she had been too confident. Truly, if Argis hadn't arrived when he did, she shuddered to think of what blind havoc her body could be wreaking. He had rescued her.

He had rescued the Dragonborn.

If nothing else, she could endure the blow to her pride to give him the satisfaction of her admission of that fact.

…

He became aware of the embers in the hearth, listening to them softly hum and crackle to one another as they died down. It must be late.

There was the clatter of a wooden object being placed on the table beside his bed. After a moment, a ladle was pressed to his lips and the man drank ravenously from the cool water.

Argis finally managed to open his eye for the first time in what felt like weeks, staring upwards at the stone ceiling. He heard a gasp beside him but he didn't even have the strength to turn his head.

"Argis!"

Her.

His body suddenly felt like it was full of sunlight, too enormous to fight, too airy to grasp. He strained to move and her hands carefully framed his jaw, easing his head to the side.

Tor was alive. He hadn't failed. The fever dreams had been so vivid at some points that Argis was still uncertain if this was reality. He had watched her die so many times…

"Thane." He rasped.

Tor hushed him, a damp rag smoothing back the hair that had gotten stuck to his forehead. "It's alright, you're safe." She soothed, her expression achingly concerned. Argis' breath hitched, eye widening.

Why is she looking at me like that?

He tried again to speak, swallowing hard beforehand. "My Thane, I-"

"Please Argis, save your strength. You've been ill for days." Tor murmured. "I'll fetch you some broth."

Moving his body felt like it was nigh-impossible, but Argis still managed to grab her wrist before she could flee. "Are you well?" He breathed, his sight already wavering with exhaustion.

The woman nodded, blinking rapidly before turning away. "A-Aye." She mumbled, scrubbing at her eyes. "Quite well, my housecarl."

He couldn't recall her ever saying his title so tenderly.

…

The dynamic seemed to have shifted between them and Tor didn't know how to adjust.

Argis had silently accepted her thanks and proceeded to act as though the mishap had not occurred, the man clearly ready to put the whole thing behind them. On the one hand, it was as if nothing had changed, but on the other, everything had changed. Tor floundered, simultaneously wishing he would say something and being grateful that he had so quickly moved past it.

Perhaps the dynamic had only changed for her, so bound to her dragon pride that she couldn't reconcile herself with these uncertain emotions. Uncertain!, she scoffed at herself, hardly uncertain. It is longing for what I cannot have, and lust for my shield-mate. It was plain as a fresh coat of whitewash but still she bandied with it, tamping down her thoughts night after night.

Mara, I don't know what to do.

…

The trek to Riften had been long and fraught with wretched weather. After dismounting Tannin, Argis had to brace himself against a beam in the stables so he could settle his hip back into place. Alongside him, Tor stretched with a long groan, shaking the rainwater off her oilcloth cloak.

"I can speak with the jarl tomorrow morning." She grunted as she raised her arms overhead. "Tonight, all I want is a hot meal and a soft bed."

"Aye." Argis agreed, beginning to remove Tannin's tack. "I assume you'll be going to the shrine?"

"Indeed, before my meal so I don't fall asleep mid-prayer." Tor grinned up at him from beneath her hood but Argis quickly averted his gaze, continuing to busy himself with his mount's needs. He heard her exhale after a moment, then, "I'll get us a room and arrange our meals. Could you-"

"I'll tend to Zace." The man cut her off, already knowing what she would say. This was their usual arrangement, after all. He must have said it a bit sharper than he intended however, because Tor fell silent and departed without another word.

What am I doing? Argis rested his forehead on Tannin's side, sighing heavily. What am I doing?

He stepped out into the weather once more an hour later, squinting against the downpour as he moved from lantern to lantern. Riften made Argis uneasy, but since becoming Tor's housecarl he had noted a significant decrease in harassment of his person. It was as if even the ne'er do wells of Riften could sense the power rolling off of Tor in silent waves, and they did their utmost to give the woman and her housecarl a wide berth.

Upon entering the Bee And Barb, Argis was assaulted by a wave of sound and light. The common room was packed to the gills with townsfolk, all of them drinking and discussing their day with one another. In spite of himself, Argis could feel his shoulders relax. Blessed normalcy, the fleeting taste of the mundane. The world continued on it would seem, civil war, dragons and all.

Talen-Jei waved him over, the Argonian obviously in good spirits. "Tor told us you would be coming! How do you fare?" He asked the housecarl, raising his voice to be heard over the din.

"Well enough. The trek was misery, so we are glad for your hospitality." Argis replied stiffly, always torn between being a proper housecarl or speaking in a more casual manner.

Talen-Jei didn't seem to mind, the provisioner clapping him warmly on the shoulder. "Tor secured your bed and a hot dinner, would you like the key to your room now or will you wait for your meal to be prepared?"

Argis shook his head. "I can wait. No need for you or Keerava to trouble yourselves serving us."

"You are too kind, as always!" Argis raised an eyebrow at how chipper Talen-Jei was. He seemed to be in remarkably good spirits, almost suspiciously good. Upon pointing that out though, Talen-Jei simply offered him a broad, toothy grin. "It is good that you and Tor are here, my friend. May Mara smile upon you both."

Argis blinked, feeling more and more like he was missing some vital piece of information as the innkeeper bustled away, humming a tune the whole while.

…

Tor pursed her lips, a bit confused. Normally the shrine of Mara was vacant aside from the clergy and perhaps a worshiper or two. Tonight for some reason the shrine entrance was draped in wet garlands of rain-battered flowers, and inside appeared to be teeming with people. She recognized a few vestments of Dibella amongst the crowd, and after several moments of thought (as well as some frantic mental counting) the Dragonborn realized that today was possibly the worst day they could have come to Riften.

Not that Markarth would have been any better, if anything it would have been far more chaotic, but Hearts Day was celebrated by any who had a vested interest in romance and all that came with it. Dibella's faithful often intermingled with Mara's, especially today when the songs were sung and the flowers braided into their boughs for the lintel.

So much for her evening of quiet prayer! She ought to have realized once she saw how crowded the stables were, but she had been preoccupied with…

Tor frowned, tugging her hood forward and carefully making her way through the festooned congregants to the altar. The statue of Mara gazed upwards with that vague, loving benevolence, her arms wide in welcome. Before her was the customary bowl for offerings, currently piled high with seasonal blooms, greenery and gold pieces.

The Dragonborn breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of spice and incense that hung heavy in the air as she rested her palms on the altar. Mara, is this a sign? Coming here on this day, with no true intent to do so, finding a room at the inn on this day? If this is mere coincidence, I fear my heart will break.

The deity, as expected, gave no direct reply, and Tor departed after placing a handful of Septims in the basin atop its plinth.

The rainy night seemed all the more dreary once she left the warm, bustling atmosphere of the shrine, so it was with quickened steps that the woman made her way to the Bee And Barb, where Argis was waiting.

Argis. She froze inches from pulling open the inn's door, her hand hovering in midair. There had only been one room available, and she hadn't questioned whether the room would have two beds.

Perhaps she was making a mountain out of a molehill. Tor felt a bit annoyed with herself, a bit frantic, and then more annoyed that she was frantic. What did she have to fear? She could have any partner she chose! They should count themselves lucky if she graced them with her presence. As the Dragonborn, she had to but speak and she would be flooded with proposals.

Aye, and there was the problem with the whole thing. It would be some grasping nobility, some starstruck yearling coming to her to ask you're looking for marriage?, greed or awe shining in their eyes. Not the one person she sought.

Tor straightened her shoulders, smoothed her expression, and opened the door to the inn.

…

"Ah." His conversational skills had always been lacking, but now Argis was at a loss. Tor, for her part, turned about the room again, seeming to be searching futilely for a second bed.

"It would appear," she began carefully, shooting him a look that was downright apologetic, "that this lodging has afforded us one bed."

Argis grunted in reply. He may only have the lone eye, but it still worked. He settled down into one of the chairs beside the bed, placing both their trenchers on the somewhat-rickety table. "Come eat. You must be hungry. I know I am." He tried to soften his words somewhat, gesturing towards her with an already-full spoon.

Tor lowered herself gingerly into the chair across from him, exhaling a sigh when the furniture held her weight.

Argis couldn't help his chuckle at that, shaking his head. "My Thane, if these matchsticks could support me, they'll assuredly support you."

"It's always so damp here though, I fear the moisture gets into the wood." Tor mused, tearing a piece of warm bread from the loaf and dunking it into the stew they were to share. Argis caught himself watching her hands and he quickly adjusted his posture, staring down at the baked potatoes in front of him.

He heard Tor's spoon clatter against her trencher, the woman exhaling harshly once more. "What is it?" She erupted crossly. "That's the fourth time you've done that today alone! Have I upset you, my housecarl?"

"I-" Argis stuttered, bewildered. She didn't usually snap at him, her temper always held in the burning, tense posture of her shoulders. "I apologize, my Thane. I meant no offense. I…I find myself at a loss, is all."

"Whatever for?" She still sounded annoyed, her voice sharp and carrying that burr of draconic rumble. "Look at me, Argis. What is the matter?" Tor continued after a moment of him studying his potatoes further.

"That is the matter." Argis was horrified to hear his own voice mutter, the warrior betraying himself at the bitter end. He heard her breath hitch. "I shouldn't look at you. If I so much as look at you, my mind…does things I cannot allow." He tried to explain, the words coming painfully slow. "I am your housecarl, and you are my Thane."

"Be honest with me, Argis." Why was her voice so soft? "What are these thoughts you struggle with?"

"Daydreams." Argis grated out, praying for mercy.

The gods were not with him this evening, however, as he heard and felt Tor lean her weight onto the table. "Daydreams, aye?" Her voice now held a note of teasing, almost smug, but too warm for it to endure. "Daydreams about your Thane? Oh, surely that would be unheard of."

"Do not mock me, woman." Argis growled, glaring intently down at his meal.

"I could never." Tor insisted, and Argis finally dared to look up at her. She was just sitting there, elbows propped up on the table with a serious expression on her face. "The question is, would you rather keep it to your daydreams?"

Argis opened his mouth, then paused. "You would have nothing to fear from me regardless, my Thane." He replied stiffly. "I am able to master myself and this…issue doesn't need to impede our current arrangement." Please don't send me away.

Tor sighed, rubbing her upper arms in a clear effort to banish some phantom chill. "I'm not concerned with impedement, Argis. What concerns me is that you may not understand the gravity of what could happen to you if you…if we become involved." Her face had gone pensive with contemplation. "I am the Dragonborn. You've witnessed time and again what lengths my enemies will go to in order to remove me from this mortal realm."

"I am sworn to carry your burdens," Argis rasped around the traitorous lump of hope in his throat. "Whatever they may be."

"But is this what you want?" Tor pressed. "I would not have you risk your life for me out of a misplaced sense of duty. We need not discuss this again, should you reconsider."

"I will not." Argis snarled. "I've thought and thought about this, I can't bear to think about it anymore. I…I want to." He was ashamed of how quiet his voice was when next he asked, "are you looking for marriage?"

"You've asked me that once before," was her light response, offering him no true resolution.

Slowly, carefully, Argis slipped a finger beneath the leather thong around her neck, tugging the amulet of Mara into view. "Answer me, Tor." He murmured, using the sturdy leather cord to ease her closer. "Answer me. This goes no further than what you'll allow." She avoided his gaze for several long seconds, the woman obviously turning something over in her mind. Argis merely waited patiently, the uncertain conclusion twisting his stomach into a tight knot.

"I am." The Dragonborn, the woman, answered his query softly, glancing up at him through the curtain of her lashes. "Are…Are you interested?"

Argis cleared his throat. "I am."

"You are." She breathed, her whole face lighting up. "Soon?"

"Aye." Argis agreed eagerly, rising from the table and extending her a hand. "Now."

"Now? But the food-!"

Argis groaned in exasperation, knowing he could never tear her from a hot meal. "Finish the blasted thing, then. But hurry."

…

Maramal, priest of Mara, raised his hands while smiling at the couple before him. "It was Mara who first gave birth to all creation, and pledged to watch over us as her children. It is from her love of us that we first learn to love one another. It is from this love that we learn a life lived alone is no life at all."

A breathless hush had fallen over the crowded shrine. All that could be heard was the sound of crackling torches and the fierce downpour outside hammering on the courtyard.

It's perfect, Tor decided, giving Argis' hand a small squeeze. The priestess at the shrine and multiple enthusiastic faithful had seen fit to adorn her hair with flowers scavenged from the altar, carefully braiding the delicate blooms into her long brown locks. Argis had simply stood there and watched it happen, an odd little smile on his face the entire time while Tor protested half-heartedly.

"We gather here today under Mara's loving gaze, to bear witness to the union of two souls in eternal companionship. May they journey forth together in this life and in the next, in prosperity and poverty, in joy and hardship." The priest then turned to Argis, asking the time-honored question, "Do you agree to be bound together in love, now and forever?"

"Now and forever." Argis echoed, his voice strong and certain.

Tor closed her eyes, a wave of relief washing over her. No matter how much she had tried to reassure herself, there had been that fear he would decide against this…incredibly impulsive course of action.

Now though it was her turn to respond, the priest giving her a proud, warm look as he queried, "do you agree to be bound together in love, now and forever?"

"Now and forever." Tor said it softly, but the rafters still shuddered overhead from the power of the Thu'um. Argis chuckled, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand.

"Under the authority of Mara, the Divine of Love, I declare this couple to be wed." The officiant intoned, smiling broadly. The packed shrine burst into cheers, pilgrims tossing flowers and offering well-wishes to one of the many newly-wedded couples they would see that evening alone. As Tor and Argis stepped aside to make room for the next pair, Tor was startled by her housecarl sweeping her up in his arms and bringing their mouths together in a searing kiss.

Not my housecarl, she corrected herself hazily after a moment, my husband.

"Sorry." Argis apologized, the man sounding as breathless as she felt. "Wanted to do that for a long time."

"Well don't stop now." Tor implored, dazed from the kiss and the sincere smile that he was aiming at her. "Surely you have more you would like to give?"

Argis opened his mouth, seeming to be about to retort, but he abruptly shook his head. Instead, he grasped her hand once more, urging her outside.

…

"My wife," Argis breathed against her mouth, trailing kisses down her jaw. Tor was still fumbling with the buttons on her tunic, soft, helpless little whimpers catching in her throat. "Should we wipe the paint off first?" The man asked after a moment, his thumb smearing her customary facial adornment.

Tor seemed to come back to herself, jerking fully upright. "Yes, I-I ought to-I mean, I should." Argis moved to fetch the ewer and basin, inciting her to frantically protest, "I can do it myself!"

"Shh, let me." He soothed, dampening the washrag. "Let me tend to you, my wife."

"But…" Tor's eyes half-lidded when the cloth met her cheek, and Argis felt her lean into his touch.

"You can clean mine off, how does that sound?" He bargained, chuckling when she nodded silently. "Our first compromise." The Dragonborn opened one eye to glare at him but remained silent, tilting her chin when he asked her to so he could clean the paint off her brow. "There, my…" Argis tripped over his words momentarily. He had considered so many options, had thought about this moment for much longer than was appropriate, yet he had never settled on what he would call her. "...my love." He finished softly, making one last sweep over the bridge of her nose.

Tor cradled his face in her hands, her eyes bright with emotion. She brought their foreheads together, whispering, "my love."

A tremor ran through Argis' body, so like when she was using the Voice near him in battle and power surged in his very bones. Yet it was also different, for the sensation sent a rush of heat to the core of his body. Argis mutely enfolded her in his arms, everything that he had longed to say still tangling up in his chest.

Tor's sigh was deep, but it did not seem to be borne out of discontent. She pulled away from him, picking up a fresh washrag to remove his own war paint. "What will we do after this, my love?" She clearly relished the title, lingering on it a bit longer.

Argis stayed silent, waiting until she had finished cleaning the marking from his cheek and jaw. Then, the Nord man surged forward, capturing her mouth with his own and pressing her back against the wall. "Whatever your heart desires, Tor." He rumbled, relishing the shiver his voice drew from her. "Whatever you ask of me, whatever you need. I am yours."

Tor plied her fingers greedily through his damp hair, her eyes focused on the collar of his shirt instead of his face. "I…would greatly enjoy it if my husband…"

Oh, she was everything he could have dreamed of and so much more, her face aflush and her fingers sliding down to cup the back of his neck. "Ask it of me and it shall be done." Argis promised. Then, unable to keep from teasing her a bit, "surely the Dragonborn can find their Voice?"

Tor huffed at him, obviously embarrassed. "Fine, if you will force me to say it!"

"Never." The man replied gently. "I will have it from you willingly or not at all."

"I am willing, it's just that…well, it's you." Tor explained awkwardly, tight fists resting on his shoulders. "You are…different. Special."

"High praise, but I've carried your spoils across the entirety of Skyrim. Flattery will get you nowhere." He had rarely witnessed her so rattled. If he hadn't been smitten before, her actions now would have certainly tipped him over that edge. "I would hear you say it if you can, my Thane."

"I…take me to bed." She mumbled out in a rush, burying her face in his neck. "P-Please, Argis, take me to bed and make love to me."

"Have you ever before?" Argis queried while easing them down on the counterpane, letting her continue to hide her face for the moment. He felt her nod into his shoulder and he smiled without meaning to.

"I was very young." The woman tried to justify her answer, seeming concerned about his judgment. "Old enough, of course, but foolish."

"Likewise. Good to know that this isn't a first attempt for either of us." Argis rolled his neck, grunting when it popped and released some of the tension he carried in his back. "I'm not sure I would be able to keep my hands off of you," he admitted ruefully, offering her a crooked smile. "I would try, of course."

"Suppose that's all I can ask of you." Tor chuckled.

…

It was always him.

That was how it felt, anyway. Since the day she had stumbled through the gates of Markarth, worn and haggard from the road, it was as if she had been drawn to him.

Argis had been gruff at first, not unpleasant but not overly friendly either. He had kept his distance from her until he had witnessed her fight for the first time, witnessed her using the Thu'um to scorch a path before her. Even then, he didn't cower in awe or fear. He merely hammered the flat of his blade on his shield and raised his voice with her own, unleashing the ages old fury of the shield-mate dirge.

They had stood back to back on that rise, her axe and his sword falling upon their enemies with fervor. "Forgive me, my Thane!" The man had apologized mid-strike through gritted teeth. "I did not believe the stories. I should have known better than to doubt."

"No harm done!" Tor rasped in reply, her throat raw. "Hard to believe without seeing."

"You are as gracious as you are fierce in battle!" The compliment had shot down her spine, providing strength to her weary limbs and reinvigorating her prideful spirit.

Once they had finally routed the enemy troops, Argis had clasped arms with her.

"Honor to you, my Thane." The man had said sincerely, the faintest shadow of a smile on his face. "I will protect you with my life."

After that skirmish they had fallen into an easy camaraderie, oftentimes riding out to scout the way ahead of the battalion's movements. For all that she wanted to keep her distance, Tor had cherished those times on the road together. It had been peaceful, normal even, like she was a regular woman.

Soon enough reality would crash back down on her however, leaving her tossing and turning in her bedroll while nightmares of Alduin plagued her sleep.

One night Argis had woken her from a particularly harrowing dream, and she had nearly used the Voice on him before she realized where she was, who he was. The Dragonborn hunched over in a rare moment of visible weakness, her shoulders shaking with the force of her barely-contained sobs as she cried, "it's too much, Argis, it's all too much, I can't do this-"

"You don't have to do it alone." Argis had cut her panicked rambling short. She could still recall the sharp shadows playing over his face from the low flames of their fire, the ferocity of his expression while he stared her down. "I am sworn to carry your burdens."

It was always him.

"Argis," Tor breathed in his ear, loving the way he shuddered against her. "Thank you." Her arms lazily slung around his neck while he thrust into her, the woman basking in the attention her new husband saw fit to lavish upon her. He was not gentle by any means but he was also not without care, seeming content to touch his forehead to her own and softly mutter praise under his breath.

That is, until he settled back and draped her legs over his thighs. One finger traced a line between her breasts, down her stomach, over her mound, and all the while Tor trembled with anticipation. "May I?" Argis asked, his hand resting above where their bodies were joined. The woman nodded rapidly and he graced her with that rare smile once more, thumb cautiously circling on her clit. His hips shifted, hilting his cock fully in her, and Tor saw stars. Her head rolled back, fingers clutching at the tangled blanket beneath her while her new husband tenderly worked her into a lather.

"Argis-" she managed to sob out, moaning when he halted his touches. Instead, they were replaced by an adjustment in position, the man easily tugging her upright to ride his cock. Tor ground herself against him and Argis busied his mouth with her breasts, all the while his hands grasping at her hips until she was certain she would be bruised.

"My love," Argis grunted suddenly, "I am close."

"T-Touch me again," Tor begged, attempting to widen her stance. The man took the hint, middle and index finger working in tandem to help her to her climax. The nails of her free hand dug into the scarring left by the hagraven on his shoulders, and Tor arched her back. "I'm never–" she gasped, struggling to speak. "Never letting anything harm you again." Her forehead met his with a renewed urgency, dragon blood running high when she snarled, "You are mine."

"As long as you're mine in return." The Nord man responded, rumbling in what could only be satisfaction when Tor nodded without a moment of thought. "Come for me, my love." His voice then dropped to a seething whisper, "come for your husband, be a good wife and come."

Something about the way he spoke made Tor's entire being quake and she found herself crumpling into his chest as she came, her shoulders heaving with some forgotten sensation. Pleasure, she realized dimly, it is a good feeling. She had denied herself so long it seemed as though a dam was breaking, the experience powerful enough to have tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

Argis muttered an oath, picked her up off his cock like she weighed nothing and slid her down to rest on his thighs. Tor grasped his cock, needing no prompting to stroke him to his own completion. The man exhaled a shuddering groan as he came, his hot seed ending up smeared across her stomach in spurts.

Tor dipped a finger in the mess, tucking it into her mouth for a taste. Argis groaned again, his hands carding through her disheveled hair. "Gods woman, mercy, mercy." He implored with a breathless laugh. "Have pity on me before you carry on doing something like that!"

"I love you." Tor blurted out, freezing immediately afterwards. Argis stilled as well, his lone eye wide. "I…I know we've only just married, and I'm--well, I'm not certain if you feel the same, but…" the Dragonborn trailed off awkwardly, fidgeting.

"Woman," Argis sighed finally, cupping her chin. "Do you really think I would have dealt with the frippery of that shrine if I didn't love you as well?" She could feel his hands shaking despite his stern tone. "This is not for duty or anything else you may tell yourself. This is…what I'm doing is for love."

"Ah." Tor said weakly. "I had hoped that was the case, but I didn't want to assume-"

Argis cut her off with a kiss, laughing a little. "You are permitted to assume. Assume away," he teased, "especially if you do it while naked in my arms." Tor could feel her flush spreading down to her shoulders, which only seemed to encourage Argis' mirth.

"Not certain how much longer I can endure you being in such good humor." She finally muttered, a bit sulky.

"Don't pout, my love." Argis murmured, giving her one last kiss before pulling away. "Let me clean you up, and then we will rest."

"I can do it mys-!"

"Hush, love. Let me take care of you."

It really wasn't fair how he could look at her a certain way and all the fight seemed to leave her body. Tor felt a bit domesticated and she scoffed at herself, laying back at her husband's insistence and allowing him to wipe her clean. Before he could pull away again, she drew him back in for another kiss. "Forgive me my petulance?" She asked softly.

"It's already forgotten." Argis replied just as quietly, his expression warm if a bit tired. "Are you well?"

Tor waited a moment to mull the question over, taking inventory of how she felt. "Aye," she mused, stretching luxuriously. "That I am, my love." She paused, then glanced up at her husband. "Though I am a bit cold. Perhaps we could share the bed for tonight."

"Oh, only tonight?" Argis jibed, a low rumble of laughter punctuating the query when Tor huffed at him. "Of course, whatever you need my love."

"I ask for time in this." Tor whispered once they had made themselves comfortable in the bed. "I am…set in my ways." She half-hoped her new spouse had dozed off without hearing her.

"We have our entire lives." Argis slurred, the man clearly already half-asleep. A kiss landed on the nape of her neck. "All I ask in return is that you remain honest with me."

"I…" Tor bit her lip, the worries rushing to the surface anew. As if sensing her mental discomfort, Argis wrapped his arms around her, the large man protectively tucking her against his body.

The Bulwark.

"I…I will, my love." Tor twined her fingers through his own, bringing his hand to her mouth and painstakingly kissing each knuckle. "I will do my best to give you the honesty you deserve."

"Good." Argis mumbled. "Now, be quiet and sleep."

Tor barely managed to stifle her giggle at the grumpy declaration, snuggling back into her new husband's embrace and humming in contentment. Oh certainly, the dawn would bring more work to be done! But here and now, in this moment, she could be at peace.

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