Feb 14, 2016
"I'm flesh and blood, but not human."
“Aye I mean-- you’re an elf, clearly.”
seen from Türkiye
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seen from Türkiye
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seen from Germany
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"I'm flesh and blood, but not human."
“Aye I mean-- you’re an elf, clearly.”
💋! (WOO)
Ah-! The elf was just swift enough to avoid Lydia catching her wrist, the Nord’s reaction time dulled by the brief shock. Her cheeks felt warm, surely a side effect of the mead in her system. A lopsided smile illuminated her features as she decided not to give chase, but to plan a return gesture instead.
19 and 20!
Isolation (due to circumstances outside of control, even if brief). Beliefs are shaken. (Decided to do both of these together for Vigor since it works out pretty well.)
Despite how often they where away, all fives brothers kept in contact through letters. It was not unusual then when the courier approached him. Things where only concerning when they spoke. “Sorry for your lose.”
A letter from Windhelm. With a stern expression, Vigor thanked the courier as he took the the letter. Opening it up he found two letters inside, both very different in the smaller details.
Vigor of The Brothers,
In the name of Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak, it is with great regret we inform you of the death of one Kazimer of The Brothers. Please find enclosed a second letter the deceased left in your name. The deceased’s belongings will be seized 14 Last Seed, you may collect his possessions from his home should you please before then.
While all of the Jarl’s court grieves with you on this day, we rejoice in the knowledge that the deceased was in possession of dear friends and wealth to communicate unto them.
May this lawfully bestowed inheritance prove as a reminder of your enduring faith in one another, and of the Jarl’s beneficence accorded unto you both.
Brother,
I never expected that there would only be two of us left. It has been a while since we last meet in person, and years before all five of us where last together. Do you remember our last meeting? Alfhed thought it wise to flirt with one too many tankards of mead. Do you think Irnvar would have been proud of us? Regardless, I miss your laugh.
I never understood why we felt the need to go our separate ways. We should have traversed Skyrim, Tamriel, together. Perhaps then we would have died together.
Should I die before you, know that I am sorry. Let us be proud of what little time we had here. I truly believe in Sovngarde, brother; perhaps we will meet again there.
Best regards,
Kazimer
Irnvar had always taught them it was best to mute the emotions shown. To not openly weep, not openly get frightened or express your anger. But even the ghost of his words could not stop the man welling up as his throat shattered beneath him.
“Do you think Irnvar would have been proud of us?”
Words echoed in his mind. He stumbled down to the riverside. Overlooking the world from his favourite spot in Skyrim, the crashing of the waterfall helping to ease his mind as he looked down over the burning orange tundra of Whiterun.
Even in a calm state, even in his disciplined mind he couldn’t find an answer. What had Vigor been doing all these years? Assassination was not the life of any decent human being, no matter how he justified it. It seemed right at the time, but looking back on his younger years he couldn’t begin to understand what had made him do the things he did. Did he truly believe he was doing good? It was still murder. The smallest chance that things could have been easier on them all burned in his mind. Even with plenty of information, he never truly knew the people he had killed; and if he did, would he have still killed them?
Vigor didn’t know. He honest to any Gods listening did not know. He just knew Irnvar wouldn’t have been proud.
♡
Cast out of the night, well you’ve got a 𝒇𝓸𝓸𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓱 𝓱𝒆𝓪𝓻𝓽 So you took your place but the fall from grace was the hardest part
It feels just like a dagger buried deep in your back You run for cover but you can’t escape the second attack
𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓵 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓸𝓬𝒆𝓷𝓽, she kissed you and she painted it black You should have seen your little face
➜
➜ Play with mine’s hair
He stiffened, notably, as Kelta’s hands came to weave and tousle lightly at the thick of his long hair, not quite showing any incentive to shrug off the curious gesture, but not entirely thrilled enough to show any pleasure of a platonic sort. He was… confused. He had known Kelta for a time, but he usually reserved the right of such a harmless way of touching for friends and children who couldn’t help themselves… and of course, his human daughter, and his husband. To Rowan, Kelta was not yet exactly a friend, but a wayward fledgling who needed guidance. A vampire to be taken under his wing.
Still, he did not insist on pulling away. Very gradually, the tenseness in his shoulders melted like heated wax, giving into the mollifying sensation of pale, elven fingers brushing through his locks of Highland flame. He didn’t fight it, though he could have chosen to.
A smirk creased its way onto his lips.
“I don’t suppose you’re thinking to give me braids, are you, màileachan?”
It certainly wouldn’t be the first time he’d been adorned with them, after involving himself with a Nord. Furthermore, when Rowan was home in Falkreath, young Runa did have the habit of “sneaking” up behind him as he worked at his desk, twining his hair into lengthy braids and giggling as quietly as she could to herself so she’d not be caught. He’d always pretended not to notice, playing the ignorant recipient of her gift with a smile tugging at his lips, until she finished, and flew the coop. Braiding was a skill she’d learned from Mjoll, in Riften, before her adoption – and one he’d instantly grown fond of.
@sundered-snow
♥ Tell us about a time they were rejected.
Ernie has never been rejected. But that’s also because she’s never made the first move. She’d never make a first move. It’s no surprise this woman has only had two relationships in her life.
Eponis however is at least willing to try her hand at courting, even if she prone to denial and stubbornness. She has been rejected before. She was curious about a merchant up in Solitude, having seen them often. Quite a few years older and considerably handsome, she took a liking to the man. Eponis tends to get interested in people who she is perhaps not used to (being more custom to mercenaries, smugglers, that sort) and likes the idea of a relationship very separate from her work life. Eponis eventually approached him, but was so eager that it was only after she had flirted did she find out he was taken; she went off with her tail between her legs, and would not let such a mistake happen again (now never forgetting to check her information in advance.)
✍ (only if you'd like !)
//I wasn’t technically taking these any more but i wanted to draw them SO here they are haha
“I’m cold. And it’s indoors. This is so wrong.” (sending super old memes because THESE TWO NEED TO INTERACT)
“Aye, you’d think it would be in a tavern’s best interest to keep their own fires goin’ in a storm like this. But now that the keep’s gone to bed.. pass me that log, would ya?” The Nord nudged the cold remains of the ash-pile with her boot. “See if we can’t remedy the situation.”