iPedobear
Sexy Bear
This is my first attempt at writing fan fiction. Any constructive criticism is welcome. If you’d like to see more, let me know. Enjoy.
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“Sweet Mother, Sweet Mother, send your child unto me…” The woman stopped to breathe. She was tired; tired of the evil that surrounded her; tired of the accusations; tired of the constant complaints of thievery; the woman was very, very tired.
“Sweet Mother, Sweet mother, send your child unto me,” The woman began again. A month ago, she would never have thought of executing the Black Sacrament. Even today, she felt that the Brotherhood was no better than the guild. The Brotherhood was not stationed in Riften, however. Besides, it had to be done. Her life was at stake. If no one in the Rift was going to try to stop the madness, she would surely try her best to find someone who could help. She heard feet coming up the stairs. Before she could react, the doors swung open.
“Mother, it seems I’ve broken my sword again.” The Jarl’s son stopped in his tracks, staring at the objects on the ground; a corpse and a heart lay there, lifeless. Next to them were a rather large book, a dagger, and a single nightshade flower. The boy then looked at his mother, who was on her hands and knees, kneeling over the corpse. She looked at her son, her face as pale as snow.
“Mother, is that…the Black Sacrament?” The when the jarl did not answer, he was sure that his mother had performed the taboo ritual. “Who do you intend to have killed, Mother?
“I intend to kill the very woman who has been planning my murder for months. I intend to have l Maven Black-Briar killed, and the corruption in the Rift shall die with her.” The Jarl stood, and walked past her son, down the stairs to the throne room. The boy stood there in disbelief. His eyes wandered around the room until they found their way back to the corpse on the ground. He turned, and followed his mother down the stairs. There was nothing he could do now.
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The stench of Riften was strong in her nostrils, forcing her eyes to water; it reeked of the sewers; rat excrement and mold. The air was thick, almost difficult to inhale. In spite of its location in the beautiful Autumnal Forest, the city was old, worn, and did not look very “beautiful”. She looked around town for the first time in almost 2 years. It was dark, and she could barely see past the fog. Rats scurried along the pavement in all directions. She looked at Mistveil Keep. How long had it been since she set foot in Riften? Perhaps it had been during her campaign with the stormcloaks. She started toward the keep, her companions close behind her. Maybe it was back when she killed Grelod the Kind at the orphanage. No, no. The last time she had been to Riften was right after the assassination of the emperor. It had been nearly a week since the Night Mother sent her to meet with this contact. Had she not been waiting on Nikka and Shazzar, the two newest members of the family, she may have arrived three days earlier. Hopefully, the contact would be patient.
As they reached the top stair, the redheaded nord turned to her two followers. “I must ask that you two stay out of the keep until I am finished. I am fairly sure that the contact does not expect to be approached by three assassins, and even surer that her guards do not expect for her to have any guests tonight.” She looked at that smaller of the two followers, a young nord girl. “Nikka, I would like for you to go to my home here, and make sure that there is adequate amounts of food and supplies there. If not, use this gold to buy food at the Bee and Barb.”
The girl took the pouch of gold and the key to Honeyside. “Yes, Listener.” Nikka turned and walked back toward the main gate. The redheaded nord then turned to her redguard companion.
“Shazzar,” she started. The redguard seemed to be preoccupied with the sight of Nikka’s rear end. “Shazzar, do I have your attention?”
“Oh yes, Listener. Forgive me. What is it that you want?” The redguard glanced toward the main gate, but Nikka was no longer in sight.
“I need you to go to Balimund, and ask him to sharpen this.” She handed the redguard her daedric dagger. “Give him these fire salts, and tell him that I sent you.tss late, and he may be asleep. If he does not answer, pick the lock.” The redguard nodded, turned and walked toward the town’s marketplace.
The redheaded nord stepped into the keep for the first time in over a year. It had changed dramatically. The fire was out, the room was empty. There was no food on the table. She looked into the Court Wizard’s quarters, only to find that she was no longer there. The redheaded nord silently progressed up the stairs to meet with the contact. Once up the stairs, she was greeted by an older woman, one whose voice seemed vaguely familiar.
“Hello, Katarina,” the Jarl started. “What brings you to Mistveil keep this late at night?” Katarina immediately recognized the Jarl after this greeting. In the two years since they had seen each other last, she had aged tremendously.
“Hello, Laila. It is my understanding that you have a problem that you need dealt with.” Katarina was careful to choose her words wisely, as the jarl’s youngest son was a supporter of the imperials, and while the imperials had no presence in Skyrim at the moment, she did not want to put her old friend in danger of future persecution.
The jarl seemed confused. “A problem? I don’t know where you would have heard such a thing. Everything is fine in the Rift.” Katarina looked at the Jarl. The jarl seemed to be hiding something.
“Nothing is ever fine in the Rift, my Jarl. I am here to help to do the bidding of Sithis. The night mother sent me here to you tonight.” She said this at a whisper. The jarl looked more puzzled than she did before.
“You mean to say that you’re with the… Dark Brotherhood?” The jarl said the last part in a whisper. Katarina nodded, and walked into the bedroom completely.
“Have we got business to discuss, my jarl?”
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“Sweet Mother, Sweet Mother, send your child unto me…” The woman stopped to breathe. She was tired; tired of the evil that surrounded her; tired of the accusations; tired of the constant complaints of thievery; the woman was very, very tired.
“Sweet Mother, Sweet mother, send your child unto me,” The woman began again. A month ago, she would never have thought of executing the Black Sacrament. Even today, she felt that the Brotherhood was no better than the guild. The Brotherhood was not stationed in Riften, however. Besides, it had to be done. Her life was at stake. If no one in the Rift was going to try to stop the madness, she would surely try her best to find someone who could help. She heard feet coming up the stairs. Before she could react, the doors swung open.
“Mother, it seems I’ve broken my sword again.” The Jarl’s son stopped in his tracks, staring at the objects on the ground; a corpse and a heart lay there, lifeless. Next to them were a rather large book, a dagger, and a single nightshade flower. The boy then looked at his mother, who was on her hands and knees, kneeling over the corpse. She looked at her son, her face as pale as snow.
“Mother, is that…the Black Sacrament?” The when the jarl did not answer, he was sure that his mother had performed the taboo ritual. “Who do you intend to have killed, Mother?
“I intend to kill the very woman who has been planning my murder for months. I intend to have l Maven Black-Briar killed, and the corruption in the Rift shall die with her.” The Jarl stood, and walked past her son, down the stairs to the throne room. The boy stood there in disbelief. His eyes wandered around the room until they found their way back to the corpse on the ground. He turned, and followed his mother down the stairs. There was nothing he could do now.
___________________________________________________________________________
The stench of Riften was strong in her nostrils, forcing her eyes to water; it reeked of the sewers; rat excrement and mold. The air was thick, almost difficult to inhale. In spite of its location in the beautiful Autumnal Forest, the city was old, worn, and did not look very “beautiful”. She looked around town for the first time in almost 2 years. It was dark, and she could barely see past the fog. Rats scurried along the pavement in all directions. She looked at Mistveil Keep. How long had it been since she set foot in Riften? Perhaps it had been during her campaign with the stormcloaks. She started toward the keep, her companions close behind her. Maybe it was back when she killed Grelod the Kind at the orphanage. No, no. The last time she had been to Riften was right after the assassination of the emperor. It had been nearly a week since the Night Mother sent her to meet with this contact. Had she not been waiting on Nikka and Shazzar, the two newest members of the family, she may have arrived three days earlier. Hopefully, the contact would be patient.
As they reached the top stair, the redheaded nord turned to her two followers. “I must ask that you two stay out of the keep until I am finished. I am fairly sure that the contact does not expect to be approached by three assassins, and even surer that her guards do not expect for her to have any guests tonight.” She looked at that smaller of the two followers, a young nord girl. “Nikka, I would like for you to go to my home here, and make sure that there is adequate amounts of food and supplies there. If not, use this gold to buy food at the Bee and Barb.”
The girl took the pouch of gold and the key to Honeyside. “Yes, Listener.” Nikka turned and walked back toward the main gate. The redheaded nord then turned to her redguard companion.
“Shazzar,” she started. The redguard seemed to be preoccupied with the sight of Nikka’s rear end. “Shazzar, do I have your attention?”
“Oh yes, Listener. Forgive me. What is it that you want?” The redguard glanced toward the main gate, but Nikka was no longer in sight.
“I need you to go to Balimund, and ask him to sharpen this.” She handed the redguard her daedric dagger. “Give him these fire salts, and tell him that I sent you.tss late, and he may be asleep. If he does not answer, pick the lock.” The redguard nodded, turned and walked toward the town’s marketplace.
The redheaded nord stepped into the keep for the first time in over a year. It had changed dramatically. The fire was out, the room was empty. There was no food on the table. She looked into the Court Wizard’s quarters, only to find that she was no longer there. The redheaded nord silently progressed up the stairs to meet with the contact. Once up the stairs, she was greeted by an older woman, one whose voice seemed vaguely familiar.
“Hello, Katarina,” the Jarl started. “What brings you to Mistveil keep this late at night?” Katarina immediately recognized the Jarl after this greeting. In the two years since they had seen each other last, she had aged tremendously.
“Hello, Laila. It is my understanding that you have a problem that you need dealt with.” Katarina was careful to choose her words wisely, as the jarl’s youngest son was a supporter of the imperials, and while the imperials had no presence in Skyrim at the moment, she did not want to put her old friend in danger of future persecution.
The jarl seemed confused. “A problem? I don’t know where you would have heard such a thing. Everything is fine in the Rift.” Katarina looked at the Jarl. The jarl seemed to be hiding something.
“Nothing is ever fine in the Rift, my Jarl. I am here to help to do the bidding of Sithis. The night mother sent me here to you tonight.” She said this at a whisper. The jarl looked more puzzled than she did before.
“You mean to say that you’re with the… Dark Brotherhood?” The jarl said the last part in a whisper. Katarina nodded, and walked into the bedroom completely.
“Have we got business to discuss, my jarl?”
