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The Companions - The Circle - Kodlak Whitemane, Vilkas, Skjor, Aela the Huntress, Farkas © The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim

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(Contains: nudity)
Vilkas and Mia
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He kinda reminds me of Aragorn
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Fandom: Skyrim
Pairing: Ondolemar x Male Bosmer OC

My dearest Ryndoril,

Words can never be enough to express the depth of my

Ondolemar growled at himself in anger, ripping the paper from the pile in front of him and crumpling it to a ball. A quick flame spell in his palm turned it to ash. Pathetic, he thought to himself. What a ridiculous attempt. If he were any more cliché, it’d be a miracle.

He was trying to write a letter to Ryndoril; he didn’t have a particular reason, but he simply wanted to. The Bosmer had been gone for several days, and Ondolemar missed him; what better time to write a romantic letter to the wood elf? It was, after all, something many did when courting another, and knowing the Bosmer as well as he did, it was sure to make him smile.

Now if only he could make it sound like something sensible, and not something an idiot juvenile would write!


I miss you.

Are you kidding me? Ondolemar thought contemptuously, turning this page to ash as well. What kind of sorry excuse for romance was that? I miss you?

He rolled his eyes at himself, trying to think of some romantic lines he’d heard of or read in books.

Your lips are like

What? What were the Bosmer’s lips like? They were like lips, for Auri-El’s sake! His hand was starting to blacken a little from the ash now.

I count the minutes until I see your beautiful face again.

Ondolemar read that line a couple of times; it was decent, anyway. Better than anything else he’d come up with. Then again, as he thought about it, the more ridiculous it sounded. Who would actually sit and count off minutes until their lover returned?

Snorting in disgust at himself, he burned this paper to embers as well. Realizing he wasn’t getting anywhere, he stood up, beginning to pace back and forth in his room, glad his guards hadn’t bothered to disturb him this evening. He tried again to think of something romantic to make the Bosmer smile.

I like being near you.

Well, that much was obvious, Ondolemar shook his head angrily. He was far more eloquent than that; surely he could do better.

Your presence brings me joy

Joy? Perhaps it was true, but that was certainly never a term he wanted associated with himself. Far too…excited. Bubbly.

Like Ryndoril, he thought with a smirk. If there was one word to describe the Bosmer, it would most certainly be joyful. Hmm…

Your joyful nature brings me joy

Oh, there he went again! Ondolemar growled low in his throat at himself, seriously annoyed now. That sentence barely even made sense. It sounded stupid. He was being stupid. This should not be so difficult. He’d read poetry; he enjoyed poetry, Divines’ sake. Why couldn’t this work?

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

It was the beginning to one of his favorite poems, actually; but it had been written by someone from Summerset, not Skyrim. What would anyone stuck in this cold place know about a proper summer’s day anyway?

And besides, he told himself, Ryndoril is not a season, or even a fleeting day in one! To be enjoyed then quickly forgotten – no. That would never do. An idea came to him then, all at once, and he excitedly sat down to put pen to paper with the thought.

Thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings, that then I scorn to change my state with kings.

It was another line from a poem he had enjoyed; never having felt this way about anyone else before, he’d not related to it so well, but now he could certainly see its appeal. But as deeply as he felt for the Bosmer, it was not love – certainly not. One could not fall in love so quickly, and to claim as much was childish.

And in any case, he thought smugly, it was quite ridiculous to suggest he wouldn’t give up the Bosmer for wealth and power; he would never need to. A superiorly-bred Altmer could have both, and never think twice about it. Fine, he sneered at himself. If you’re going to make it sound ridiculous, then come up with something better! Crumpling up this page as well, he set fire to it without a thought, causing more ash to pile next to him and coat his hand.

When you are not with me, I feel

Angry, he finished in his head. Clearly. Some romantic letter that made. The new piece of paper joined the rest in a pile of ash.

He dragged the inked pen over the clean sheet of paper in front of him; ash marred the surface, but he was simply scratching out nothing in particular in order to clear his head and calm himself down. He had enough to annoy him daily; why was he bothering to put himself through this if it was going to simply make him angry?

For Ryn, a voice in his head murmured, conjuring up a picture of the Bosmer’s laughing face along with it. Everything about him softened at remembering Ryndoril’s smile; a small smile of his own even graced his lips. Of course. For Ryn. The precious Bosmer who had turned his world around, who could calm him with a simple smile, could please him with a simple touch. The Bosmer who meant more to him than anyone ever had since he’d lost his brother.

So then why couldn’t he put it into words? He thought in frustration. He was a well-educated, well-read, eloquently-spoken Altmer. What was the matter with him?

You are my respite from the drudgery of my work. Too depressing.

I see you and my heart fills with joy. There was that stupid word again, joy. Why was it even a word anyway?

You are the mer that I have chosen. Well, didn’t that sound formal and boring and obvious!

Why don’t you simply fall at my feet and be done with it?

“Oh, yes, Ondolemar, well done. Very romantic,” he muttered to himself. Another growl, another burnt paper.

After several more failed attempts and subsequent burnt papers – one of which he’d dropped too quickly and singed his desk with – he put his head in his hands, groaning to himself. This was stupid.

“Hey, love.” Ryndoril’s voice surprised Ondolemar, causing him to jerk his head up and look around; the Bosmer was standing by his door, a grin on his face that grew wider when Ondolemar looked.

“Ryn,” Ondolemar said, the smallest of smiles coming to his own face. Well, that was the problem, he realized upon seeing the Bosmer again. No words could possibly do the mer justice. Of course he couldn’t come up with anything to write to him. “Back again?”

“For a bit,” Ryndoril nodded, walking over to the desk. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, of course I am,” Ondolemar said, disgruntled. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just wondering what you burned to death here,” Ryndoril smiled, indicating the slightly large pile of ash by Ondolemar’s chair. “And about this,” he added, reaching over to wipe a bit of the ash from Ondolemar’s forehead. The Altmer glanced at his hand and then groaned – of course it was all over his face now, his hands were covered in the gray residue.

“It was nothing important,” Ondolemar said, reddening a little. “Have you taken care of your business?”

“I have,” Ryndoril smiled, leaning down to kiss the Altmer. Ondolemar kissed him back, his heart full again. “Though I couldn’t track down who wanted your amulet. The request was sent by letter, not in person. I’m sorry.” Ondolemar frowned.

“That’s alright,” he said, knowing the Bosmer couldn’t do anything more about it. “As you have assured me I no longer have to worry about thieves, I suppose that will do. Thank you.”

“Of course,” Ryndoril said, lowering himself onto Ondolemar’s lap. The Altmer chuckled.

“By all means, make yourself at home,” he said teasingly to the Bosmer. Ryndoril grinned.

“I always am when I’m with you,” Ryndoril informed him, placing another gentle kiss on the Altmer’s cheek. Ondolemar found himself frustrated again; it was so simple, such a natural thing to say, and Ryndoril had come out with it with no problem. Why couldn’t he do that? “What’s the matter, love? Tell me.”

“Nothing,” Ondolemar insisted, wrapping his arms around the Bosmer. “I’m just…glad you’re home.” There. That was good enough, right?

“Me too,” Ryndoril grinned, his eyes lighting up at Ondolemar’s statement. The Altmer smiled back; yes, that had done it. “So…you want a distraction from whatever’s got you so annoyed?” Ryndoril asked cheekily.

“And how do you know I was annoyed?” Ondolemar asked. “I am perfectly fine.”

“Because I know you,” Ryndoril laughed, threading his fingers in the Altmer’s hair. “You don’t have to tell me. I just prefer you to be happy.”

“You make me happy,” Ondolemar said quickly, before he could stop himself saying the words. Ryndoril stared at him, obviously pleased, and Ondolemar let out a breath, slowing down. “You do, Ryn. You make me very happy. I’m glad to see you.” Ryndoril laughed again, delighted, and captured the Altmer’s lips with his own.

“Then I think a distraction is definitely in order,” Ryndoril grinned, his eyes sparkling. Ondolemar didn’t have any inclination to disagree with the Bosmer’s plan.

Ondolemar tries to get romantic, but finds he isn't all that great at it.

Oh, Ondolemar, you poor, in-denial mer. "not in love", suuuuureee... (it takes him a REMARKABLY long time to come to that conclusion himself, by the way...)

This one's quite short for my standards, just a quick little thing I had fun with, I hope you liked it :) It is a bit sappy, but it IS still kind of the honeymoon phase, and poor Ondolemar's never been in love before. He copes with it how he can =P

Previously:… (mature)
Next: Adventures With Altmer Chapter 1/7

Bethesda owns Skyrim, I do not. Also, the poem lines are from Shakespeare's sonnets, specifically numbers 18 and 29.
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Mature Content Filter is On
(Contains: violence/gore)

Ch 5 - Dead Guys by Whisper292

Back at the inn, Kaawen finally lost herself and cried over the Silvenar’s death. Betath held her as she wept, stroking her hair and whispering to her soothingly. When her sobs finally subsided, he handed her a handkerchief with which to wipe her eyes. Then he bought her a tankard of mead.

She wasn’t feeling sociable, so after finishing her drink, she said goodnight and went to her room. She slept surprisingly well, exhausted after running back and forth across Mistral for two days, and the catharsis when she finally let go. Although she was still feeling the loss and probably would for some time to come, she was refreshed the next morning when Betath knocked on her door.

“No rest for the wicked,” he said. “I just spoke with Zaeri, one of Commander Karinith’s lieutenants. The Maormer have attacked Cat’s Eye Quay. We’re to report to the commander as soon as possible.” He handed her a plate with four pieces of bacon on it.

“Oh, you brought me breakfast! Thank you; I’ll be right down.” She closed the door and put on her armor, eating while she dressed, and then met Betath down in the tavern.

They made their way across town and found Commander Karinith near the docks. “Zaeri said the Maormer had attacked,” Betath told her. “She said you’re preparing a counterattack.”

The commander scoffed. “Counterattack? I’d settle for an organized defense. Our forces are scattered too thin, and we won’t be able to hold the gates.”

“What can we do to help?”

“I can’t lock down the gate until all the survivors are clear of the market on the quay, so send them my way. We need to get them on this side of the wall. Stop and gather some healing supplies before you go. There will be injured.”

“Will do.”

They went to the quartermaster and obtained some bandages and potions, then went down to the docks and made their way to the causeway outside Cat’s Eye Quay, tending to wounded and instructing survivors to get out of the area so the commander could lock the gate. One of the survivors mentioned that Sergeant Firion was waiting just inside the gate, so they went on and met up with her and Gathwen.

“I didn’t realize you two knew each other,” said Kaawen.

“We don’t, really,” said Firion. “We came to help and ended up together. What are you two doing here?”

“We’re to help too. One of the survivors told us you were down here.”

“You feel that cold breeze? That’s just the way it was before the hurricane that started all this.”

“What can we do, Firion?” Betath asked.

“I sent my squad to scout the quay, but I haven’t heard back from them yet. I want to go look for them, and we can poke around while we’re at it. I’m sure our wizard friend here will want to come along.”

“Shouldn’t one of you hold the gate?”

“Others are coming to hold the gate,” she said, nodding to a handful of marines who were coming their way. “Let’s get in there and take care of this.”

“Gathwen?” Kaawen said, turning to the mage.

“I’m right behind you. I’m sure we’ll have to fight, and I can heal you.”

They entered the quay, which was in ruins. Boats were torn to pieces, barrels and crates burned, and houses and businesses were utterly destroyed. And Sea Vipers were everywhere. It was a good thing Gathwen was on hand. Not only did she heal them; she was pretty good at casting destructive spells, as well.

Kaawen marveled at watching Betath fight. He wasn’t your typical high elf; he had a mischievous streak and an élan that most Altmer would have turned their noses up at. But in a situation like this, he was a stone-cold killer with no compunctions about sending the Maormer to their deaths. She got a close look at his face once when they were fighting, and the jovial expression had melted, revealing something darker, something hard. The mischief still broke through on occasion, and he had a penchant for whacking his enemies with his staff and, with a carefully placed spell, sending them flying into unusual places. He lobbed two of the Maormer completely off the docks and piled them atop a large rock that jutted out of the water about twenty feet offshore. And he never batted an eye. It was a little disconcerting, but she also felt a strange sense of comfort over it. She could take care of herself and was never afraid of dangerous situations, but nevertheless, she felt a little safer with Betath fighting at her side.

In a tavern half a mile onto the quay, they found Firion’s men, Edhelas and Onglorn. Edhelas was kneeling next to Onglorn, who was badly injured, covered in blood, and barely moving.

“What happened?” asked Firion as she knelt next to him.

“Squad got separated,” said Edhelas. “Nistel and I found Onglorn. They hurt him bad, carved runes into his skin. What kind of low-life rat does that?”

“Where is Nistel?”

“Hunting Sea Vipers. I didn’t want to leave Onglorn.”

“Let me see,” said Gathwen, stepping in. She looked the injured Bosmer over and then used her staff to cast healing magic over him. Not all, but many of the runes that had been carved into his skin began to vanish, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“That’s much better,” he said.

“Did you learn what the Sea Vipers plan for Mistral?” Kaawen asked them.

“Not really,” said Edhelas. “I saw a lot of them near the other end of the quay, though.”

Firion rested a hand on Onglorn’s shoulder. “You two have done your part. Get back to Mistral when you can.”

“Take care, Sergeant,” said Onglorn.

They left the two marines in the tavern and continued up the beach, fighting Sea Vipers until they found Nistel in a shop. She hadn’t been as lucky as Onglorn and was already dead when they found her. Her body was badly damaged—slash marks, broken bones, even a few fang marks.

“Oh, Nistel,” Firion breathed, kneeling next to her and stroking her blood-matted hair. “I’ll avenge you, my friend.”

A bloodied piece of paper was clutched in the dead marine’s hand, and Sergeant Firion removed it and read, then handed it to Kaawen. It was a list of weaknesses and plans for taking the quay, including placing storm totems and initiating the tempest.

“There’s that word ‘tempest’ again,” she noted.

“Storm totems,” Betath mused.

“They’re going to cause another hurricane,” Gathwen suggested.

“Gods, I hope you’re wrong.”

“Let’s get this over with so I can take care of Nistel’s body,” said Firion.

They didn’t find anything of interest in the following buildings, and they went to check the mine at the end of the quay. The entrance was blocked by fallen rocks, and a Khajiit was cowering next to them.

“What happened?” Kaawen asked him.

“I was in the cave . . . working . . . when I heard a strange howling. Then warriors came out of nowhere, struck without mercy.”

“Who was it?”

“Sea Vipers, which made no sense because we had already paid protection and let them put their totems in our mine. They killed some and let the rest of us go; they were more interested in their totems. Then they collapsed the cave entrance.”

“Why did they do that?” Betath asked.

“Some high elf wizard tried to get in, so they collapsed it. I got out just in time. The wizard was trying to tell me something, but I was too disoriented to understand.”

“You should get to safety.”

“What’s that? My ears were ringing. Would you mind repeating the obvious?”

Kaawen couldn’t help chuckling.

“Don’t think me ungrateful. If it helps, the wizard was looking for another entrance to the caves. I’ve heard of a secret door by the cliffs, but I’ve never seen it myself. I’ll go now.”

The Khajiit ran up to the docks and across the quay, and they all stood silently, trying to figure their next move.

“I wonder,” Kaawen said after a minute. “In a shop by the cliffs, there was a trap door behind the counter. Any chance that’s the secret door he was talking about?”

“One way to find out,” Betath replied. “Show us.”

They went up to the beach and into the shop Kaawen had indicated. The lock on the trap door had been forced, and they opened it up and climbed cautiously down into the tunnel. When they came upon Ealcil, they knew they were in the right place. He was standing before two large statues in the shape of snake heads. Lightning sizzled between the statues.

“These totems harness a combination of wind and spirit,” he noted as the group gathered around him. He looked away from the totems and glared at them. “Excuse me, do you mind? Oh, it’s you. What are you doing here?”

“We’re here to stop the Sea Vipers,” Betath told him.

“I suppose that’s optimal. These Sea Viper rituals are barbaric, but quite effective. Their hurricane was nothing compared to their current efforts.”

“What’s worse than a hurricane?” Gathwen challenged him.

“You clearly haven’t studied the fundamentals of blood sacrifice.”

“Don’t tempt me,” she retorted, but he ignored her and continued.

“You see the serpent-shaped statues, their storm totems? They collect spirit energies from rune-marked subjects—”

“You mean people,” Kaawen threw in.

“Indeed. They collect their spirit energies and channel it, like water through a funnel.”

“Can we block the funnel?”

“Exactly the right question!” he exclaimed approvingly. “The Sea Vipers use a specialized lodestone to block the channel, and I was fortunate enough to get my hands on one. Approach an active totem, hold forth the lodestone, and harmlessly siphon the energy away.” He reached in his pocket and brought out a lodestone, handing it to her. “See for yourself.”

“You’re sure it’s harmless?” she asked taking the stone.

“Completely! Go ahead; don’t be shy. It’s not as though the totem’s energies will cascade through your body until you’re nothing but a lifeless, smoking husk. But do avoid standing in the puddles, will you?”

Gathwen grumbled insults behind her, but Kaawen turned toward the totems. She held the lodestone toward them and white light streamed outward, and after a moment the lightning fizzled out.

Ealcil applauded. “Phenomenal! I knew proximity was the key. And look at you, not even a hint of electrocution. You have the principle; apply it to the other totems before—well, best not to worry you about that.”

“Worry me about what?”

With a sigh, he said, “Well, I can’t say for certain. It’s one of two things, neither of which is good for anyone on this island. But you don’t stoop to blood sacrifice unless you need a lot of energy very quickly. And, well, to release it just as quickly.”

“You’re speaking in riddles,” Sergeant Firion grumbled. “What do you mean?”

“Listen, you handle the storm totems. I’ll determine how best to counteract the blood ritual without destroying Mistral. I shouldn’t need to tell you time is of the essence.”

“All right,” Kaawen relented. “We’ll do what you ask.”

They left him by the first totem and started making their way through the tunnels. “I can’t stand that man!” Gathwen snarled as they walked.

“Rather imperious, isn’t he?” Firion commented.

“You have no idea.”

As above, they had to fight their way through, and they had to stop and let Gathwen do some serious healing when Betath took a sword deep in his side after letting a Sea Viper get too close. Otherwise, she mended a few arrow wounds and burns. Betath used his club swing on one Maormer and left him propped against a very narrow shelf halfway up the cave wall, and Kaawen chuckled. “You seem to get very lucky with landing the Sea Vipers in interesting positions.”

“There’s no luck to it. I spent a lot of time perfecting that technique. My aim is very good.”

Ch 5 - Kaawen with Totem by Whisper292

They pressed onward, shutting down totems as they went. There were nearly a dozen of them, and Kaawen did the first few, finding out quickly that draining the energy from the totems also drained her energy. After that, they took turns.

They finally came to the last totem, and as it dropped, Kaawen could hear a voice in her head. “This is Ealcil, speaking directly to your mind.”

Which is terrifying, Kaawen thought to herself.

“Find my Psijic projection near the tunnel exit. I know how to stop the Maomer.”

They found the projection floating above the floor near the exit. Gathwen groaned and rolled her eyes, and Kaawen had to smile. She found it amusing, how much the Bosmer hated Ealcil. It was understandable, but humorous nonetheless. As for Kaawen, she didn’t mind Ealcil’s manner. She thought he was funny, a notion that would probably mortify him.

“What do you have for us, Ealcil?” Betath asked.

“Through my Psijic projection, I observed an old ritual site. Should be just outside this tunnel’s exit. The Sea Vipers have summoned a storm atronach and are funneling all their energy into the bound Storm-Slave. The creature will only hold so much energy before it explodes. All that energy will wash over Khenarthi’s Roost, killing anything it touches. Oh, and the mountain north of Mistral will shatter and leave no trace of the town.”

“Sweet Y’ffre!” Kaawen gasped with horror. “How do we stop it?”

“Three ritual horns trap Storm-Slave, and they produce a gale that holds all his energy in place. But the lodestone you carry has absorbed enough storm energy to counteract the false winds.”

“And what happens when we release Storm-Slave?”

“He will shed his corporeal form and safely release his storm energy. Now, by ‘safely,’ I mean in relation to Khenarthi’s Roost. You’ll want to get as far away as you can, preferably with some solid rock between you. You should have no trouble, but in case you do, I’ve opened a portal at a distance of one league from Khenarthi’s Roost. I’ll tread water in the open sea until I’ve observed your success.”

“You’re all heart, Ealcil,” she muttered.

“Merely a precaution. I have every confidence!”

“Watch out for slaughterfish,” Gathwen quipped, and she held her staff toward the projection.

“Wait, what? I—”

But he didn’t finish. His projection vanished as Gathwen giggled, and they walked out the back exit of the mine and onto the ritual site. The site was vast, set into the beach right at the water’s edge, the parts not rising above the ground being partly submerged. The monstrous storm atronach stood on a central platform, which was crackling with energy. Three colossal horns were set into stone slings shaped like snake heads and placed at regular intervals around the platform. Wind, smoke, and lightning emanated from each of the horns toward the center. The scene was beautiful, if disturbing.

“Wow,” said Firion, “I wish Nistel could have seen that.”

“I’ve read about such things, but books don’t do it justice,” Gathwen whispered.

Kaawen remained silent, unable to express her thoughts as hear heart hammered in her chest.

Behind each horn was a Maomer wizard, floating in the air and bathed in blue light. Next to each wizard slithered a giant snake and several more Sea Vipers. They were in for a pitched battle.

“Well,” Betath quipped, “shall we get on with it? We wouldn’t want to keep our hosts waiting.”

Three times, they fought a handful of Maomer and a giant snake, then took the lodestone and disrupted the horns. Kaawen took the first horn, but her energy waned quickly and she grew too tired to help Betath disrupt the other horns. She managed to fight on, staying back and using only ranged attacks, but when they were at the last horn, the snake got close enough to bite and took a chunk out of her leg. The poison rushed through her veins, sapping her energy even more, and she bent over, gasping for air. The snake hissed at her, bringing her back instantly, and she darted backward, ignoring the pain and sending another arrow at the slithering reptile as Betath shot a lightning bolt at it from the other side.

Ch 5 - Betath with Horn by Whisper292

When the snake and all of the Maomer were dead, Betath leveled the lodestone at the third horn and released the energy. With a loud crash, Storm-Slave broke free of his bonds.

“Children of the sea!” he boomed. “Your bonds cannot hold the Tempest!”

Dizziness overtook Kaawen, and she swayed as a haze washed through her mind. She was vaguely aware of Firion and Gathwen running away, but Betath bent toward her and took her chin in his hands.

“Kaawen, I know you’re in pain, love, but we have to run now. Can you run for me?”

Run? Um, yeah, she could do that. But her head swam and her stomach churned. She bent over, fearful that she was going to throw up, but Betath continued to plead with her.

“Come on, Kaawen! Gods damn it, we need to run!”

“Okay, okay.”

He took her hand and started running, and she followed him, although she really couldn’t see where she was going. But it was urgent, and somewhere in the fog of her mind, she realized they were fleeing from danger. Hadn’t someone said something about running from a . . . storm atronach?

“Hurry, my friends!” came Razum-Dar’s voice, and Kaawen found herself stumbling over some driftwood and splashing into the sea on the other side of the island from wherever it was she had been before. There was a distant sound a bit like the pop of fireworks, but it was short-lived.

The salt water stung her leg but cleared her head, and she looked over at Betath, who floated next to her, looking absolutely terrified. “I’m okay,” she said, her words slurring a bit.

“Let’s get her out of the water so I can heal her,” Gathwen said from behind her.

Betath wrapped his arms around her and pulled her up on the beach with him, and she lay down on her back and looked up at several faces peering down at her. Everyone was wet, and for a moment she forgot why. Then she remembered they had all jumped into the ocean. But why? What had they been doing? Oh, that was right—the storm atronach. She guessed her head wasn’t as clear as she had thought it was.

Betath sat next to her and Firion and Raz stood over her, all looking on as Gathwen worked on her leg. There was a weird sucking sensation, then a warm feeling washed over her entire leg and the pain and disorientation was gone. She sat up.

“Gathwen, you’re really good at that,” she said. “You should look into becoming a healer.”

“Perhaps I will,” she said proudly.

Kaawen looked at Betath. “Help me up?”

He stood up, then took her hands and pulled her up, gazing into her eyes with great relief. “You scared me,” he said softly. “I thought I was going to have to find another shorty-elf to torment.”

“No, no, you can go right back to tormenting me.”

Edhelas and Onglorn came running up to them. “You made it!” Edhelas cried.

“Report,” Firion commanded.

“We swept the shoreline. Commander Karinith captured some Maormer, but the Green Lady slaughtered the rest. I’ve never seen so much blood.”

“We’re so sorry about Nistel,” said Kaawen.

“Don’t mourn for Nistel,” Onglorn reassured her. “You made sure her sacrifice had meaning. Gods favor you, friends.”

Sergeant Firion took Kaawen’s and Betath’s hands in each of hers. “It was good working with you again. We have to go take care of Nistel now. Eternal loyalty, my friends.”

“You go, Firion,” said Kaawen. “Take care of your friend. I’m sure we’ll meet again.”

After the marines left, Raz placed a hand on Kaawen’s shoulder. “To escape death so triumphantly is a constant thrill, yes? Not so thrilling for the Maormer, of course. They are all either captured, fled, or dead, thanks to your efforts. And the Green Lady’s. Khenarthi’s Roost is safe, and voluntarily a part of the Aldmeri Dominion. You will receive a hefty sum of gold for your efforts. Had he known you would do so well, Raz would have scrounged up a nicer reward.”

“Gold is nice,” Betath said mildly. “If you gave us a trinket, we’d probably sell it for the gold anyway.”

“Raz can see your point.”

Kaawen turned to Gathwen, who stood smiling next to her. “I’m heading back to town,” the mage announced. “I do hope to see you again, hopefully with Rurelion by my side.” She reached for Kaawen and hugged her, then wrapped her arms around Betath’s waist and hugged him, as well. Then she turned and walked back up the beach.

“So, Kaawenyth,” said Raz, “are you still interested in helping out a simple Khajiit who looks out for the welfare of the people of the Aldmeri Dominion? In an official capacity, that is.”

“Of course. I’ve had more excitement these last few weeks than I’ve had in my entire life.”

“Good, good. The Maormer are like drunken uncle. Chase them off and they always come back. The people of Khenarthi’s Roost will be ready for them, but others will not be so prepared. If the vipers’ numbers are large enough to assault Khenarthi, then all the southern seas are in danger. The queen is in Auridon right now. Raz would ask the two of you to head to Vulkhel Guard and report to Watch Captain Astanya. She can pass word to Her Majesty. Perhaps you can hitch a ride on the Prowler; this one believes they are headed that way. Stop in at the fort before you go to obtain your rewards.”

“Understood,” said Betath.

The Green Lady came up the beach and stopped next to Kaawen. “I heard you were out here. I ran out of Maormer to kill. If you find any, you’ll let me know, won’t you?”

“What are you going to do now, my lady?” Betath asked her, although Kaawen knew very well what the Green Lady would do now.

“Now I’ll mourn the Silvenar. I must find oils for his body and tools for the rites.” She swallowed hard and said, “I can almost feel his hand on mine and hear him say, ‘all things find their way.’ But he’s gone forever and I’ll soon follow.”

Kaawen took her hand. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say.”

“Just say ‘farewell,’ Kaawenyth.”

“Farewell, my lady.”

The Green lady squeezed Kaawen’s hand, nodded at Betath and Raz, and walked back up the beach. Kaawen sighed sadly. She knew her spirit would live on in the next Green Lady, but she would miss this one. She had a fire and a fortitude Kaawen could only hope to aspire to.

Razum-Dar, Betath, and she started up the beach toward Mistral as well. “So,” Kaawen said as they walked. “What can we expect on Auridon?”

“Very tall elves and very green shores. And Betath’s parents.”

“Divines help us,” Betath groaned. “Will you be coming to Auridon, Raz?”

“Soon, soon. Raz will help Headwoman Harrani get established in the Dominion first, and then he will go back to Auridon. Keep a barstool warm for him, will you, friend?”

“Of course.”

On the docks, Kaawen and Betath spoke to Captain Jimila, who offered to take them to Auridon at no charge. She was going there anyway, and she felt she still owed them for helping to fix her ship. She said they would set sail as soon as the two elves were ready, so they went back to town, packed up their gear, and headed to the fort to collect their payment. The sun was just setting when they boarded the Prowler and set sail for Auridon.

* * *

Two nights into the trip, Kaawen awoke with a feeling of aching emptiness in her chest. The loneliness was almost unable to bear, and a great sob escaped her throat. She wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep now, so she headed up on deck.

Betath was still up and about, sitting near the bow, leaning against some crates and gazing up at the stars. He scooted over to give Kaawen room when she approached.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked.

“I just felt the Green Lady pass on,” she told him.

He reached out and took her hand. “I’m sorry. What will happen now?”

“Now a new Silvenar and Green Lady will rise.”

“How are they chosen?”

“Y’ffre picks them. That’s really all I know.”

“Maybe you’ll be the Green Lady.”

Kaawen shook her head. “I seriously doubt it. The Green Lady is a seasoned fighter, the epitome of strength and spirit, a natural leader.”

“You just described yourself, Kaawen.”

“No, Betath. It’s not me.”

“All right. But I think you would be an excellent Green Lady.”

“But if I was—can we talk about something else?”

They turned the conversation toward Vulkel Guard and their mission, but Betath didn’t let go of her hand. She certainly wasn’t about to let go.

They arrived at the port of Vulkhel Guard late in the afternoon a couple of days later, and Kaawen was ready to step on dry land again. Life on a ship could be tedious, especially when the crew wouldn’t let her help out. She was ready to get out and start working again.

“Take care of yourself,” said Captain Jimila as they began to debark just as the sun was setting. “This one hopes she will see you soon.”

As they stepped onto the dock, Betath took Kaawen’s hand. “Come with me. I want to show you something.”

“Where are we going?” she asked as she followed him down a long boardwalk.

“It’s the perfect time of day. You’ll love this.”

He led her to the end of the boardwalk and across the beach to a retaining wall. Just offshore were several giant, curving rock formations, one of which had grass and trees growing atop it. The sun was sinking just behind the formation with the trees, casting a warm, golden glow over the water and the beach below.

Kaawen gasped. “That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Kaawen, I—” But he stopped before he finished.

She reluctantly turned away from the sunset and looked up at him. For a moment, they just stared in each other’s eyes, and then he reached around and undid the strap of her braid, letting her hair fall loose around her shoulders.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, barely above a whisper.

Ch 5 - Betath and Kaawen.Vulkhel Guard.First K by Whisper292

Kaawen’s heart soared. Standing on tiptoe, she curled her fingers around his neck and pulled him down to her, covering his mouth with hers. He leaned into the kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist. Her lips parted to accept his tongue, and she breathed him in greedily, as though this first kiss would be their last. He withdrew all too soon and rested his forehead against hers, and she had a brief moment of irrational fear that it would be their last kiss, so she turned her head and kissed him again. Betath nibbled gently on her lips, threading his fingers through her hair.

She finally pulled back and said, “All right, now I’m done.”

He chuckled softly and caressed her cheek, his golden eyes gazing warmly into hers. “We waited far too long for that.”

“I agree.”

“When that snake bit you on Khenarthi’s Roost, I was afraid I was going to lose you.”

“We’ve both been injured before.”

“I know, but that time . . . I don’t know. It just . . . you’re so precious to me, Shorty-Elf.”

“And you to me. I’m not going anywhere.”

She turned around and leaned back against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her. As they enjoyed the sunset and the feel of each other’s bodies, Kaawen realized that there wouldn’t be a last kiss anytime soon.

Ch 5 - Betath and Kaawen.Vulkhel Guard.She's a by Whisper292

This ongoing serial, which is a collaboration with the hubby, ChessCoach, follows the adventures of Kaawen and Betath as they join the Eyes of the Queen in an effort to save the fledgling Aldmeri Dominion from those who would bring it down. Warning: spoilers for the Aldmeri Dominion questline.


The last two pics belong to the hubby and can be seen full-size here:……

Find other The Queen’s Eyes chapters here:…
Check out Whisper’s other fanfiction here:…
Characters and settings © 2014 Bethesda Softworks LLC

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Finally I drew a character sheet for my fursona. It's a unique name.

NO, you are NOT allowed to use this (only as a ref if you want to draw her for me)!!!

This is my personal character, do not steal her design, name or anything else!

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Feel free to use as a reference or as stock for photo-manipulations. Non-commercial use only.

Please provide proper credit if used.
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Female Mexican grey wolf from the Utica Zoo in Utica, NY snarling at one of her sisters (who is just out of view to the right of the frame of this image).

Learn more about the highly endangered Mexican wolves at [link]

Feel free to use as a reference or as stock for photo-manipulations. Non-commercial use only.

Please provide proper credit if used.

More Mexican Grey Wolves:
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Male red wolf, Waya, from the Rosamond Gifford Zoo in Syracuse, NY being absolutely ridiculous. This image isn't the best quality but I thought it was an excellent pose reference for a wolf running full speed.

Feel free to use as a reference or as stock for photo-manipulations. Non-commercial use only.

Please provide proper credit if used.

Learn more about red wolves, one of the world's most endangered wolves, here: [link]
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A new ref sheet for Arrow, I gave in to my dragon compulsions.
I'm not sure I like how the painted pose came out, so I may alter it later.

Arrogath, Gath, or Arrow/Arro, is a decendent of the welsh dragon Y Ddraig Goch, living in a pre-apocalyptic version of future earth. A less than ceremonious upbringing followed by consistently dark revelations has left him resolute, aloof and cynical. As a character archetype he embodies the adolescent outsider, who must reconnect with the world, mature, and eventually find his place in it, all the while fighting forces beyond his control. i.e. the forces who wish to turn the pre-apocalyptic situation into a post-apocalyptic one.

Aside from all the grim business, Arrow is still considered young in dragon years, and is highly inquisitive and adventurous, sometimes reckless. He can also be somewhat musical. All dragons can sing and Arrow especially enjoys stretching his vocal chords.

When it comes to habits and movements, Arrow is both bird and cat-like.
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the LA scale the LA scale the LA scale the LA scale the LA scale 
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Very very late kiriban picture for *BlakPheonixNightmare. Thanks you for the 50K hit, my dear! :hug:
She asked for a phoenix, of any kind. After several times trying, inspiration didnīt seem to come, but at last it arrived for a phoenix gryphon. Iīm quite proud with it :). I think I will make more drawing on pencil from now on.
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A gryphon with it's chick. The chick looks to be saying "Stop being so noble already and feed me!"

I modeled the chick on baby eagles and a peacock baby that had just hatched a few days before I worked on this.

Painted in Painter.
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Please proceed to draw me lots of fanart C:

(c) ME (c) ME (c) ME

ALSO, you are not allowed to think my fursona is bad until you roleplay with me!!!

This already done much better: [link]
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here is my new sona yeah
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stam req for =Kakuzu1221
-quite fond of this moment of dat sexy bounty hunter.
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Why do I hate KakuHida? Oh, not only because I'm a rabid HidaDei fan (I am a SasoDei fan too, if you want to know), but many other reasons. It ruins Hidan's character and turns him into some snivelling helpless uke. And Kakuzu? Ruined too, by being turned into a retarded rapist. But in case you're wondering, I'm ALSO anti-HidaKaku. I don't care who is the seme or uke, I just HATE this pairing in general.

I support the following Kakuzu and Hidan pairings:
:iconhidanplz: :iconkuzuplz:


But anyway, yeah. If you hate KakuHida/HidaKaku too, then feel free to use this stamp. I'm disabling comments for obvious reasons. I'm just SICK and TIRED of KakuHida fantards up in my face. I've been arguing with you guys for years, and I no longer have the energy to argue with KakuHida fanbrats anymore. So, yes. COMMENTS DISABLED. You can go bitch about this pairing elsewhere. I will ALWAYS regard Kakuzu and Hidan's relationship as more BROTHERLY and PLATONIC. I hate their yaoi with a BURNING PASSION!
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Mature Content Filter is On
(Contains: violence/gore and ideologically sensitive material)
  02 August, 1999. Blood was all over the ground, a body in the corner next to the air conditioner of the hotel room, a blood splatter on the wall behind it with one bullet in the center of it. Three other bodies riddled with bullet holes and a busted out widow. The only clue left for the police was a fake eyelash on the bed and a note that read “I told you I’m not just an actor.”
  1 August, 1999. The door barges open, a middle aged man in short shorts and a half cut off tank top stands in the doorway. “C’mon Barbie, we gotta get you out there babe”. A man in his mid-twenties sat in front of a mirror adjusting his wig. “I’ll be out as soon as I’m ready Joey, and I told you, I’m not Barbie until I’m fully dressed, and right now I can’t find my eyelashes. Until I’m done, I’m still James.” Joey rolled his eyes, “You’re just an actor on a stage Barbie, don’t be so high and mighty, you dress as a girl so guys like me can fondle you, not much to be proud of any way.” Joey slammed the door as a shoe came flying into the door.
  “I’m not just an actor, and I’m more than just eye candy or something to be fondled. No one can tell I’m a guy by the time I’m done in here.” James clamored around the changing room, throwing over a night stand and flipping the mattress off the bed frame to find his fake eyelashes. He finally found them on the chair he had been sitting inside their plastic case. James took great care to place them on perfectly and put on just the right amount of mascara. “Tonight I’ll give them a show they will never forget.”
  Downstairs the crowd was calling out “Barbie, Barbie, Barbie.” Something about it always calmed James down, whether it be the pride he takes in fooling all the men waiting to see him, or the money he makes while up on the stage, it didn’t matter, it calmed him and he loved the attention. James jumped out on stage and, having perfected his feminine voice began singing and dancing for the crowed. Joey was at the side of the bar, drunk as a skunk, and talking to some men in nice business suits and pointing at James. Naturally James was a little worried, last time it was for a “Private show” for Joey’s loan shark to help get himself out of debt. Private shows were nothing new here but this worked about as well as one would expect when they found out their “Entertainment” was the same gender when they were expecting the opposite.
  Sure enough, once James’ number was over, here came Joey and the men. “Barbie, this is Mr. Shadey, he would like a private show at his hotel tonight and asked for you directly.” James extended his hand in proper fashion “Mr. Shadey, I’d be delighted, I hope Joey here has filled you in on all the details for tonight’s show…and I do mean all the details.” He says as he glares slightly at Joey. “Miss Barbie” Mr. Shadey says as he takes off his sunglasses revealing his dark green eyes. “I assure you you will have a good time, and it will be just the four of us here, if that is okay with you?” James smiles slightly he knows this could be his chance to get back at Joey for that comment earlier. “Oh, of course it’s fine Mr. Shadey, but please, would you mind if I freshened up in my room before we left out? I get so tired up there on the stage.” Mr. Shadey agrees and tells James the car is the back but not to keep them waiting too long. James grabs a small pistol from his nightstand he had thrown over before he went on stage, he had learned that idea from the last time he went to a private show for Joey.
  It took about twenty Minutes to get to the hotel, and the room was on the 15th floor. The pent house suite. And of course, the bedroom was where it would all be held. Once more, James asked to freshen up. Once inside the bathroom, James pulled out a small walkie talkie “Fluttering dove to Big Daddy, target confirmed, beginning operation. James pressed play on the radio they had brought and began to sashay out of the bathroom. Mustering up all his prowess from stage nights and other showings like this, James had all the men in a trance. Until a man swung in through the window on a zip line and shot Joey and the two body guards. Mr. Shadey stood up in the corner next to the air conditioner. Wetting himself in fear. “Mr. Shadey, my organization has been tracking you for some time. I’m glad we finally got to meet, just like all those women you killed during their private shows for you.” Before Mr. Shadey could say a word, James shot him through the head. James Walked over to bed and sat down on it, grabbed the sticky notes the hotels always leave on the tables for their gusts and writes a note to the bodies he left. The Man who came in on the zip line wraps it around the two of them and they both disappear into the night sky.
A short stor y I wrote for a contest at my college. Had to be 1000 words or less, excluding title, so I made it 915.
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“Nanny! See what I can do!”

I take delight when I see you smiling broadly after completing your first somersault.

“You did wonderful!”

You laugh with pride as you puff out your tiny chest.

“Nanny! Can you please help Teddy?”

I sigh with sweet affection as you hold your beloved friend up to me for a stitching.

“We’ll take care of him in a jiffy!”

You can pick out the color of the thread you want and make a memory.

“Nanny! I picked a flower out for you!”

My heart leaps with joy as I gently grasp the gift you have so generously given me.

“Thank you very much!”

Your cheeks flush with happiness from doing such a kind deed and for being praised.

“Nanny! Will you forget us when we don’t need you anymore?”

Your eyes tear up with sheer sorrow when you hear the dreaded news of my future departure.

“Never will I forget nor will I ever stop loving.”

I tell you as I wrap you in my arms and rock you to sleep.

I may not be your mother, but my heart is filled to the brim with light from our memories.

I may not be able to stay by your side, but my love will always be with you.

Even if I forget, or even if you forget, the memories will remain forever with us.
*bows* Enjoy!
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I was captivated for the first time in my life. I did not know what it was, but, I felt it. My heart beat against my rib cage heavily, yet it felt as if it was fluttering. I felt rushes of adrenaline to my heart…I have to admit, I loved how it felt. My mind on the other hand was in a wonderful haze. There weren't many things on my mind anymore. The stress that I formerly had in my life, melted away anytime I came across a thought of someone I didn't think I would be able to love so easily, but I'm so glad that it became so. I would only think of such a person when I first awoke, when I was meditating, while my thoughts pondered, when I went to sleep, and even sometimes in my dreams. I thought I was going insane for a moment…but in reality I was in love…and I didn't even know it.
Have you ever felt such a grand feeling?
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It has been weeks and months since I have last felt good. Everything around me it seems has crumbled or left me. I watch the world around me fall. I want to give up. I want to give in. I want to cry. I want this to end. So many things have all happened at once. So sudden. It seems that everyday, I am losing something…someone…Bonds in friendships seem to be stagnant, no matter how hard I try to keep them alive. Maybe it's my fault. Maybe. I don't know. But all I know is that my world is crashing down. From friendships to family and everything in between…I want this spiraling roller-coaster to end. I want to climb back up to the top, but the harder I try, the harder I fall. It all makes me want to cry. But not even that can I do anymore. My tears, just like my voice are silent. No one hears me. It is something I must live with. I have been broken down so much. I don't know how to do the simple things anymore. But no matter how broken I am, I still feel. Perhaps that is why I am writing such a thing. I can no longer bear being silent. I must voice my feelings. Hate me. Love me. Whatever it is that you may feel about me…but that is the only thing I have left in this world. How I feel. That is something that cannot be taken away, even if my world is a pile of crumbs left on the floor.
Maybe it's frustration, maybe it's sadness...I really don't know why I wrote this...I just need to let off some steam...
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My world may be crumbling, but there is a drive-a passion within my heart and soul that makes me want to rebuild my crumbling world from the ground back up again. No matter how hard I fall, I want to get back up. But what is it that makes me so passionate to rebuild when it seems that nothing can be repaired? It is that I wish deep inside to be a better person for you. I want to get back up again and climb even higher, more than happy to take that risk of climbing up even higher, and falling even harder than before. I want to do this all for you. I want to be better and take daring risks because I love you. I want to be better than the best that I can be for you. I want to be worthy of your presence. I want to be better. I want to make you happy. No matter the risk. No matter the strength that I need to get by. I want to do it all for you. No matter how crushed my world is, you give me the strength and courage to put the pieces back together again. You are the light of my world. Everything to me, so I want to do everything for you. No matter the struggle. No matter the hurt along the way. I rebuild my world because you rebuild my heart and soul.
I thought maybe I should write a response to what I wrote yesterday, now that I'm feeling better. Haha...^^; I know I probably contradicted myself, but I like to be myself! :dummy: 
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Yama no Susume - Yukimura Aoi - Nendoroid #470 (Good Smile Company)
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if you like it, comment! don't fave and run!
More coloured ballpoint pen drawings, a chibi pink princess is courted by little boy blue.
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Some colors on this drawing I really liked. It's been a while since I paint something for myself^^
My pathfinder character Astrid, and her former partner, Edrick.

Original sketch:
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Check out me and my friend's first animation!…

A short story about a couple separated miles away and their struggle to maintain their love.

ART & STORY by Fikry Fadhillah

MUSIC & SOUNDS by Bima Nawandana Putra…
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Gizmo at the end of a photo session. He and the others had been running around for two hours by then so finally Gizmo just gave up and curled up to sleep on the path, but right before then I got this picture, which I think is very sweet. :meow:
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