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Welcome to Seasons of Wither. This is your first post. Edit or delete it, then start blogging!

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Modern!Au Alavesa.

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Dear, I just got a spam/virus-like link from you. Did you send it? Because if not you might want to do a virus scan and so on.

No, I didn’t.  I rarely send emails at all.  Thanks for letting me know.

Anyone else getting any emails from angelsfall at gmail, it ain’t me.

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Emaarion’s sister Elaninde.

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nickkahler:

Ivan Aivazovsky, Tower and Shipwreck, 1847

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My Dearest Sarlyana,

It’s always raining in the Rift this time of year, but the colors of the trees make up for it.  They’re not enough to appease my longing for home and all I’ve left behind, however.  I would give anything to walk through the gardens of the Blue Palace with you again and I will.  Soon.  But duty and honor always come first as they must.  I do this for the future of the Dominion and ours as well, because I have to.  But you are always in my thoughts and I count the days until I see you again.

Riften is an ugly place.  Have you ever been here?  I hope not, as I hope you’ll never have reason to come here.  It’s dirty and dangerous, rife with undesirables.  I’ll have to tell you about the undesirables I’ve met.

It feels like years since I’ve been gone, years before we can put this behind us.  There are days I feel like this will never end.  I have so much to tell you, but of course, like everything else, it will have to wait.  I grow weary of waiting and find myself imagining more and more what seeing you again will be like.  Will it be the same or will we have grown apart?  Will you have changed your mind about our upcoming union or has someone else stolen your heart in my absence?  Perhaps my brother.  (I’m not actually serious about that last sentence.  You are laughing, right?)  These are just some of the things I think about in the darkest hours of the night.  I also wonder about our families and how they are.  I hope Arancey is well, and your mother and father also.  Elaninde, too, of course.  I need not worry about Dhuanare.  I miss you all and promise to be home as soon as I can.  In the meantime, I can’t tell you where I’ll be next or when, but I’ll write again when we leave Riften and let you know what I can.

Though my feet may carry me away from you, my heart remains ever in your hands,

Emaarion

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[Revealing Embers]

rieldunai:

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16 Evening Star 4E202


It was in silence that Emaarion and Belwas made their way back toward camp accompanied by the Khajiit and Dunmer woman who served as the healer’s bodyguard. Emaarion had done the talking, bringing to bear all his high born charm and diplomacy in acquiring the healer’s services. He told them only that they’d been ambushed on the river and that two of their party were badly in need of healing, earning a raised eyebrow from Belwas when he made it clear that price wouldn’t be an issue but Belwas had no objections when Emaarion made it clear that payment would be withheld until after services were rendered. The appearances of the two men gave credence to their story. The Altmer’s battle axe still dripped coagulating blood and his fully armored person was splashed with crimson and the dirt and grime of a hard fought battle. The mage Dunmer’s gloves had long since been discarded, having been destroyed by the volley of destruction spells he’d launched at their attackers, reigning no less than hell upon them in the frenzy of the fight, but the sleeves of his plated leather coat bore scorch marks and the stench of sulfur, molten steel and burnt flesh hung around him. He, too, stood armed with a glass mace to which bits of skin, bone and brain matter still clung.

Once the agreement was made, the four made their way back to the camp with Emaarion leading and Belwas bringing up the rear. It was clear by the way they watched the woods around them and the tension in their bodies that they were prepared for a repeat of earlier events. The men kept their own council, neither trusting anyone outside of their circle. Belwas had made no secret of his irritation that Soren wasn’t there to handle the matter personally prior to enlisting the healer, but said nothing once the healer was in their presence.

The glow of the fire ahead was a welcome sight, but neither were prepared for what greeted them when they broke the tree line and stepped into the camp’s perimeter. There, seated on a log, was a wildly disheveled Alavesa with an equally unkempt Rieldunai fully awake and smiling, lounging between her legs, leaning back against her with his arms draped over her thighs. Belwas’ first response to seeing Rieldunai not only awake but somewhat lively was to look around for Veren.

Emaarion approached Rieldunai and Alavesa warily, his eyes watching the pirate. When he spoke, however, it was to the Khajiit. “Apparently, we only have one grievously injured party. It is still one, isn’t it, Belwas?”

Belwas walked over to the tent where Veren and Rieldunai had been left to rest and looked in to find Veren still unconscious, then looked back to the others, nodding to Emaarion. “Aye. And the sooner we get to him, the better.”

Emaarion’s look promised that Rieldunai and Alavesa would be explaining Rieldunai’s recovery later, then he turned his attention to the healer and her guard. “He’s over there. In that tent.”

Belwas motioned the healer over. “Come on, then. Get on with it.”

[0]

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[Home After the Fire]

rieldunai:

[Master Post] (II – delete before post)

[0]

“Oh, yes,” she said, rolling her eyes toward the river. “Clearly.” Though, she wasn’t sure exactly what was so clear about it, all things considered, with the possible exception that they’d survived at all. She pushed her hair behind her ear so she could shift her gaze in his direction without turning her head and wondered as her eyes lingered over new scars at the changes in him since their first encounter. Those changes would be easier for her to accept, she supposed, than for others who knew him because she’d known him such a short time that many of the changes she wouldn’t even be aware of. But she was aware of one thing; his smile was more often grim than it used to be. Such was the price of living.

Alavesa rose to her feet and walked over to stand behind him and just to the side, crossing her arms over her middle as she did. “So have you some grand plan for revenge or has your need for it been satisfied?”

[0]

As she spoke he could hear the souls he’d captured; whispering curses and pleas so profound that they seemed as supplicating men bent toward their god. There was something to be said of the feeling but he decided to keep it to himself lest he sound mad or drunk with his newfound powers. Turning fully so that he faced her and only her his arms went around her waist and he drew her in – not relishing in the slightest their separation – leaning down to kiss her forehead he smiled. Sincerity in his voice and expressions, no weakness in the truth. Merely relief that he could be so open, so vulnerable, with her.

“To have been reunited in this life with my divinity.” His eyes did not falter from her stare as he spoke. She was his divinity – now and until his last breath. “I am merely grateful. Satisfied enough to merely be in your presence again.”

[0]

His words were enough to make her smile if his smile were not as she wrapped her arms around him and stepped closer into the warmth of his embrace. “Well, then. I believe my curiosity has been satisfied enough for now.” She looked up at him, laughing eyes and teasing tone though her expression was nothing short of somber. “And I also believe you were in the middle of destroying yet another of my dresses. Shall we return to that or do you need to rest now? All things considered, I’ll be quite understanding if you’re not… up to the task.”

[0]

He did not respond to her quip with words; neither was his expression in any way a retaliation to the challenge she’d presented. To the sudden stop and go motions of her actions. To shut him out one second only to pull him back in the next. Like the tide.

A rumbling sound like the grinding of the earth trembled from his throat and slowly rose up to a soft growl as his hold over her tightened dangerously and he leaned down to drag his tongue along the curvature of her neck. She was his torment was she not? He her beast prince? It was all so surreal… every second of every day that he grew more into his skin and realized just how fortunate he was to have her. She gasped as she felt his sharp claws pierce through the fabric of her corset and graze against her exposed flesh. She stood on the tips of her toes when the heat of her body and his rose in concert and he smiled; his fangs caught the light of their fire while his eyes held only the fire of the universe reflected back at her – the core of her soul revealed to her through him in a countless sea of starlight.

Alavesa would have felt herself slam into the earth beneath her had she not been drowning in his intensity – and the depths of their love finally revealed.

[FIN]

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