#mxrcer

Abandon lizard mom B)

     — She could swear her heart skipped a beat.

     “𝔑o–” No no no no no no no no no no…

     He was kidding, right? He had to be kidding, right?

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     — She shouldn’t be grinning this much, & yet here she is with a huge smile on her face. How she’d managed to sneak up behind him while the Cistern was buzzing had been a miracle in & of itself. But the fact that he hadn’t noticed her approaching made this all the better.

     He’s bent forward slightly, his palms resting atop his desk as he stares down at the ledger perched there. She slides silently in behind him, leaning forward herself until their bodies have almost made contact. & then she reaches around to place her hands on top of his, taking note of how his head rises ever so slightly at the sudden contact.

     “𝔈lona,” he snorts, though he doesn’t turn to look at her. “𝓘‘m busy. What do you want?”

     Instead of giving him an answer, she simply lets out a soft hum. A sigh of frustration comes from the Breton, who goes back to his work. He manages to ignore her presence, despite her scaled palms resting atop his own hands.

     But the moment he feels her breath against his neck, he clenches his fists. “𝔚hat are you–”

     He doesn’t get the chance to finish his question before rough, scaled lips meet the flesh on his neck. His body tenses at the contact; he’s not sure if he wants to tear away, yell at her, or do both.

     His indecisiveness cost him greatly - in the next moment, teeth are nibbling at the exposed skin. He tenses even more, an almost inaudible whimper escaping his throat. He can feel the heat rising into his face, staining his cheeks a light shade of red as she continues to nip at his neck. He can’t help the chill that runs up his spine; despite it, he’s still scowling, making it look like he’s not enjoying this in the slightest. (But he is enjoying it - a lot. If only they were alone.)

While it is not usually her style, Valin is capable of moving about quietly, when she wants to. And quiet as a mouse does she slip into a den of thieves. The guildmaster’s cart load of valuables that he had been so concerned about stacked in a haphazard pile by his desk. The woman behind the delivery passing through doorways like a shadow to slide onto the very stool she had left at the bar not even a day before. Arm reaching over the counter to help herself to an early morning drink just as the sun started to brighten the sky.

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Amuse Me: I will write a funny drabble about my character trying to cheer yours up.

     — She’ll admit, she’s grateful that he’s okay. He’s still alive, & that all she could have asked for.

     When he first showed up at her doorstep, drenched in water & covered in cuts & bruises from the fight in Irkngthand, she thought she’d lost her mind. Athena even said herself that Mercer was dead, & that they’d managed to retrieve the Eyes of the Falmer as well as the Skeleton Key. News travels fast in Skyrim, so Elona was grief-stricken when she’d caught word of it.

     But he’s safe now; he’s here with her, alive & in one piece because she’d started tending to his wounds the minute he walked in the door. It’s been a few weeks since he’d arrived here, at her home in Falkreath: his wounds have healed, but he’s suffering from withdrawals since the Key was taken from him. His mood has been even more sour that usual, & no matter what she tried, she couldn’t even get a forced smile out of him.

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     — She stops mid-step, if only for a moment, to turn & face Mercer once more. “𝔚hat ELSE am I supposed to do?” she snapped in response, fighting down the lump in her throat. “𝔜ou refuse to listen to reason. Going to Irkngthand alone is a bad idea, Mercer – why don’t you understand that?!” There’s a FIREBALL burning in one of her clenched fists, & she’s on the verge of throwing it at the Breton. But instead she turns back around, strikes off for the front door: she needs fresh air to help clear her head. She pauses when she gets there, suddenly whipping around & throwing the readied spell. It zooms past Mercer’s head (& he flinches away), hitting one of the practice dummies on the far wall & causing the whole thing to erupt into flames.

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     “— 𝓘’m FINE.”

     She’d dried her tears some time ago, though her cheeks were still stained even long after her sobs had gone. & despite her best efforts, he’d noticed; he’d tried to console her, tried to make sure that she’d be all right. & she will be: she just needs time to process what happened.

     The Argonian had never trusted Ancano - something about the Thalmor agent hadn’t settled right with her. If she’d only spoken up, everything could have been avoided.

     “𝓘 should have SAID something. If I’d have acted on my instinct, Savos would still be alive–” & the tears begin anew, though she manages to stop them from staining her cheeks further. Suddenly the thought of being in Mercer’s arms is more appealing than sitting by herself, leaving her mind to haunt her.

     Elona gets to her feet, striding quickly across the room & almost THROWING herself at her friend. Her arms wrap around his neck, & his, in turn, snake across her back to hold her close. & she cries again, unable to hold back the tears any longer.

     “𝓘t’s not your fault,” the Breton murmurs, his chin resting upon her shoulder. “𝔗here was no way you could have known.” Not that he cares what happens to the College, really.

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     — The weather in Winterhold never USUALLY got this bad. But honestly, she should have seen the blizzard coming. They’d been long overdue for a bad winter storm; unfortunately, she & Mercer had been caught in the middle of it. There’s a little shack just off the road that’s long been abandoned, so they decide to seek shelter inside. There was NO WAY they could make it to Riften in this weather: all they could do was wait for the storm to blow over.

     As they duck into the safety of the shack, Mercer fights to get the door shut while Elona looks for something to put in front of it. Luckily, there’s a DRESSER nearby; once Mercer gets the door closed, Elona shoves the dresser towards it, cringing slightly at the sound of its legs scraping across the wooden floor. Both of them slump onto the floor, shivering so badly that their teeth are clicking together. The cold normally wouldn’t have been a problem for the Mage, either, but this winter was colder than most.

     They needed heat, & fast, or they’d risk freezing to death. There’s some straw, a few logs, some random stones, & a bit of snow back in one corner. Elona opts to leave Mercer’s side for a moment to set up an impromptu fire pit. Once everything is set up appropriately, she lights it with one of her spells, beckoning the Breton over with one hand while grabbing some spare fur cloaks with the other.

     “𝔚e’ll have to huddle together to stay warm. Hopefully the storm will have gone by morning.”

     “𝓘 hope you’re right,” he snorts, sitting as close to the fire as he dares. Elona takes her three fur cloaks & stacks them together before scooting over next to Mercer & throwing them around them both. Afternoon turns to evening, evening into night; come morning, the storm is GONE, but it’s left a lot of snow in its wake.

     As they prepare to leave the next day, Mercer shoves the dresser out of the way and opens the door – only to be greeted with a pile of snow up to his chest. Once the Mage has joined him, she stares for a moment before simply using her Flames to melt a path out of the shack.

     “𝔑ext time, we’re staying in town,” Mercer growls.