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Skyrim: Simple and Clean
"When you walk away
You don't hear me say,
"Please, oh baby, don't go."
Simple and clean is the way that you're making me feel tonight
It's hard to let it go
You're giving me too many things
Lately, you're all I need.
You smiled at me and said,
"Don't get me wrong, I love you,
But does that mean I have to meet your father?"
When we are older you'll understand
What I meant when I said,
"No, I don't think life is quite that simple."
When you walk away
You don't hear me say,
"Please, oh baby, don't go."
Simple and clean is the way that you're making me feel tonight
It's hard to let it go
So simple and clean
The daily things
(like this and that and what is what)
That keep us all busy are confusing me
That's when you came to me and said,
"Wish I could prove I love you,
But does that mean I have to walk on water?"
When we are older you'll understand
It's enough when I say so
And maybe some things are that simple
When you walk away
You don't hear me say,
"Please, oh baby, don't go."
Simple and clean is the way that you're making me feel tonight
It's hard to let it go
Hold me
Whatever lies beyond this morning
Is a little later on
Regardless of warnings the future doesn't scare me at all
Nothing's like before
When you walk away
You don't hear me say,
"Please, oh baby, don't go."
Simple and clean is the way that you're making me feel tonight
It's hard to let it go
Hold me
Whatever lies beyond this morning
Is a little later on
Regardless of warnings the future doesn't scare me at all
Nothing's like before
Hold me
Whatever lies beyond this morning
Is a little later on
Regardless of warnings the future doesn't scare me at all
Nothing's like before."
-Simple and Clean from Kingdom Hearts OSTHe regretted sending her to the Battle of Whiterun the moment Ralof ran through the palace doors with her tiny form cradled against his chest. It was such a strangely personal feeling to have, and he knew it in that moment as he propelled himself off of the throne towards Ralof who demanded aid wildly, panting and barking like a mad dog.
"Healer! We need a healer NOW!"
"Calm yourself, Ralof," Ulfric cautioned, rushing forward and motioning for Jorleif to find Wuunferth. As he drew closer, he could see that the Khajiit's cuiress was stained violet with the mixing of her blood on the blue fabric. A crimson river ran from the corners of her mouth. The Jarl had seen worse on the battlefield...but this did not look good by any stretch. "We'll see to it that she gets the best care..."
"Jarl...you don't understand," Ralof shook his head and took a deep breath, "this is because of me...I was overwhelmed...Legionnaire and Whiterun guard alike falling on top of me...but she...she lept at them and Shouted fire..."
"What?!"
Ralof's face became awestruck as he relived the moment. "Yes, Jarl. She screamed fire at them...she's the one the Greybeards called for. She is Dragonborne."
Dragonborne. He'd have time to mull that particular thought over later. For now, there was the not so legendary looking sight in front of him. Ulfric knelt upon the floor in front of Ralof and motioned for the younger Nord to pass his burden to him.
"Please...please, Jarl," Ralof begged, tears beginning to form at the corners of his eyes, "save her. If she dies, I'll never forgive myself."
"And if you die, she'll never forgive herself," Ulfric cautioned, offering him a soft smile. "See to your own wounds. I'll see to her. You've more than done your part."
Ralof dried his tears and nodded. Convinced that his lieutenant was calm for the moment, Ulfric rose to his feet, marveling at how light the burden of the tiny Khajiit really was. He turned to the staircase that led to his own quarters and climbed each stair as carefully as possible, not wanting to jar the tiny bundle of pain in his arms.
Once in his room, he laid the limp form atop the green wool cover of his bed and set to removing the layers of blood soaked armor. His sword-worn fingers moved with muscle memory and made quick work of removing the ragged cuirass from her torso, leaving nothing between his vision and the ravages of the Battle for Whiterun.
He winced. Her arms were littered with small gashes and cuts. Her sides and ribs were bruised...probably her lungs as well. That would explain the blood she'd coughed up, leaving the sad red trails at the corners of her mouth. But the deep gash that ran across her stomach worried him most. An axe had lodged its angry blade in the muscle tissue there, nearly cutting through the layer of taut sinew and into the intestines below. Blood continued to bubble out of the wound in a slow pumping rhythm, falling onto the wool bedcover below her.
He worked fast, grabbing a stack of fresh linen and a large pot of hot water from the kitchen. He raided his shelves for potions, poultices, and salves, and collected his thoughts on what should be dealt with first. Standing over her, taking a deep breath in, Ulfric Stormcloak began cleaning the wounds of a woman who not many weeks prior had done the same for him, all the while uttering a prayer to the Divines that his ministrations would be just as successful.
"I've done what I can, Ulfric," Wuunferth exhaled, washing his bloodied hands in a brass bowl by the Jarl’s bedside. "I've seen worse, but I've also seen better. Her own will is what’ll make the difference now."
The Jarl of Windhelm nodded solemnly, finger to his lip. "Thank you, Wuunferth," he exhaled softly, following the mage to the doorway.
The old mage nodded. "Keep her warm throughout the night, Ulfric. Between what you've done and what my spells can offer, she's got the best chance we could give her. The last thing she needs is the Wildhelm chill to be the death of her."
"Of course."
Before leaving his Master's quarters, Wuunferth turned and looked back at the young maiden swallowed whole by the large bed of the Bear of Markarth. "The men are wondering why a bed in the barracks did not suffice, Ulfric. I myself must admit I was surprised at the fury with which you met the Quartermaster's command to take her to an empty bed with the other wounded. I’ve never seen you react so personally..."
"I have done this, Wuunferth," Ulfric interrupted, his brow furrowed in thought. "I sent her to do battle against her first Jarl without considering how hard betraying that faith would be. Ralof considered it his fault, but it was not. It was mine. What kind of Nord would I be to not keep a Shield Sister who has bled so much for my cause? The only reason she raised her sword against Balgruuf was to save Ralof, and I put her in that position."
The court mage canted his head downward solemnly and bidded the Jarl goodnight. The stones of Ysgramor's palace moaned against the howling winter winds outside, making even Ulfric shudder. Somewhere in her sleep, the Dragonborne flailed against an unseen enemy, and he rushed to her side, reaching out and stroking her cheek before he realized he was touching her. So strange. He’d begrudgingly taken her into his cause months ago and now, now seeing her so weak before him frightened him.
So soft. The feeling transfixed him as his calloused fingers drifted between the fine fur of her face and the silken tendrils of her raven black hair. Her fit quieted at his touch, and he used that as an excuse to continue exploring the high cheekbones with their long roughs of fur. Slowly, his hand trailed down to her neck where the pelt grew thick with undercoat. The fur rippled there with each heartbeat, and he found himself tracing her pulse with curious fingertips until the trail lead into the nightshirt she was unknowingly borrowing from him.
He felt her breath against his hand as he began to draw back from her...stuttering...shivering. Still cold? The Jarl of Windhelm straightened up and looked out the windows whose thin panes shuddered from the wintry bluster outside. A muttered "damn" escaped his mouth, and he looked back down at her.
"You kept me not so long ago," Ulfric sighed, shrugging his tunic and undershirt off. "Seems it's my turn to keep you now." He reasoned that he'd have plenty of time later to deal with the awkwardness of it all later as he slid under the sheets beside her. Carefully, he ran his left arm underneath her head and neck and drew her closer with his right. Her body went stiff as stone at first, but unfolded as soon as the warmth of his began to practically flow into her. Iona's hand naturally found rest on his side, and Ulfric's skin tingled at the feeling of the tiny embrace.
Gods. It'd been a while since a woman had truly laid in his bed. His fingers wound themselves through her thick raven hair with a native sort of familiarity, and he found his other hand softly kneaded the sore muscles of her back instinctively. For the moment, he didn't try to stay his touch, finding the strange affection he felt for her to be almost appropriate.
"Sleep well, Voice of Dragons," he whispered, pulling her just the slightest bit closer to him. The moonlight filtered in through the leaded windows, casting everything in silver hue. Sighing deeply, the Jarl of Windhelm began to close his eyes, and a strange sort of arrangement between Dragon and Bear began its formation.
Iona felt weightless in the feather bed. A noble's bed. For sure. No doubt. Old fears rose up in her throat, bringing with them bile and urgency. She didn't remember the battle of Whiterun. Didn't remember Skyrim or dragons or wars or anything. Only the need to escape...the need to be far from the drowning softness she was in. The brand on her left arm burned as though the flesh had just been seared.
She remembered her wounds quickly enough though when they began screaming in protest to her every motion. Fire leaked from them, hot blood, fever, and yet she still struggled against the bedclothes...until she felt the stern but light touch and remembered it comforting her in the earlier hours.
"Iona," her Jarl whispered, and her blue eyes opened upon his gentle smile, "steady. You're safe. Nothing to fear."
"Ralof?..." Iona spoke through a cough, her fingers straining against him as her whole body tensed with worry.
"Is fine thanks to you," Ulfric answered, raising his head up slightly. "Poor bastard rode his horse to death in order to get you here. Do not worry. All is well. Rest, lass, you've earned it."
The Khajiit measured his words before settling back down, shivering in his arms slightly.
"Still cold?"
"Not really," the cat answered softly, and he felt her hips and thighs shift closer to him, searching out even more warmth. "You're...so warm."
Ulfric smiled and nestled his head down further into the pillow. Damn, this was too comfortable. It was far too easy to find himself lying beside her. "My dear, I am a Nord. It takes much more than a normal Windhelm night to chill my blood." He said it with pride as his right hand lightly moved over her back. "If at any point you feel uncomfortable," Ulfric whispered gently, and she could feel his breath against the front of her muzzle, "tell me, and this bed will be yours alone."
She nodded. "No, this...this is fine," Iona assured him, doing her best to quiet the nervousness in her voice. Gods, was it fever or something else warming her cheeks? The normally bold cat was rendered silent either from utter exhaustion or the awkwardness of sharing a bed with a Jarl she was sure had in the past done his best to despise her. Carefully, Ulfric ran his right hand from her shoulder to the small of her back and drew her even closer to him. Her breath hitched in her throat, and she grimaced at the pain. “Godsdamn! My throat is sore!...”
She paused. The knowing look on Stormcloak’s face said it all.
“Ah yes,” he purred through a smirk, “Fire is a dangerous Shout, especially for the inexperienced. You’re lucky it didn’t rip your throat apart, Dovahkiin.”
Hearing her title in his voice made her tremble, somehow making her feel even more responsible for the title. It was a feeling both welcome and unwelcome at the same time. Slowly, her blue gaze drifted from his downward, and she attempted to hid her face by lodging her muzzle underneath his arm.
Those hands she’d known for being so firm were so gentle. A large finger lifted her face up to his with the softest pressure. “I haven’t known you to be bashful since you first stepped a bold paw in my halls, Iona. Why are you hiding from me now?”
“I don’t want this! This THING inside of me!” Her voice was raspy as she did her best to raise her tone, her hands balling into fists against him. “I never asked for this! Much less did I ask for the damn title that goes with it!”
“Iona...you’re a hero…”
“Really, Bear of Markarth?” the cat scoffed, brow furrowed, eyes downcast. “You’re a true Nord, are you not? How do you feel knowing now that the hero of legend, the Mighty Dragonborne, is a worthless Suthay Khajiit? I’m sure Nords everywhere will happily accept me as their Dovahkiin.”
There was a long pause. The winds howled around the Palace of Kings. The fire crackled and spit, and Ulfric Stormcloak’s breath was steady and sure against the front of her muzzle, his heartbeat a steady thrum.
“Ralof didn’t seem to care what you were when he came running into my halls. He only cared that you’d saved him, that he’d saved you, and that you live another day,” Ulfric whispered slowly so that each word weighed on her. “Iona, whatever plans the Gods have for you...you’re meant to be the Dragonborne. Like it or not.”
“Just...don’t tell the rest of the men, okay?” she implored, ears flattened back. “I know it’s just a matter of time before everyone knows but...I just got to the point where I’m one of them...I don’t want to be different again just yet.”
“As you wish,” he agreed. “I DO wish you’d have told me.”
“How can I trust anyone with this? Do you know how many people I have clamoring for me to fix all of their problems? How many people are out for my very head?” Even as she spoke defensively, she flattened herself against him as much as possible, seeking out the brand new solace she’d found in him.
Ulfric felt his face warm as barely a tiny space existed between them. “You’re in my bed, woman. I think at this point, trust should no longer be an issue.”
She drew back from him slightly, her nose rubbing against his bearded chin as she raised her head so that she could look him in the eye. “You...you’re the one that patched me up, aren’t you?”
“Yes...what does it matter? I seem to recall you doing the same thing for me.”
Her fingers began tracing some of the scars on his chest, and she noticed his breathing slowed when he felt the tickle of her soft pawpads running across the raised flesh. “It matters a lot to me,” Iona sighed, finding herself beginning to smile sheepishly. “Thank you...for taking care of me, Jarl Ulfric.”
“Ulfric.”
“Huh?”
“Seems awfully formal to be called Jarl during a time like this. No one else is around...just...Ulfric.”
She took a chance...one she didn’t even think about. Slowly, she nuzzled under his chin and allowed the tiniest purr to leave her throat. “Thank you, Ulfric.”
The large Nord felt the beginnings of a pleasant shudder go down his spine, and his arms held her a little tighter. “You’re welcome...my dovahkiin.”
Once more, she drew back slightly and allowed a brave grin to cross her weary face. “YOUR dovahkiin?”
The Stormcloak General returned the grin with one of his own. “Yes, mine. Your oath is to me. My dovahkiin, My Am-Dov.”
“Am….Dov?”
Ulfric laughed and stroked her hair slowly, his eyes regarding her with a newfound respect and admiration. “Lion-Dragon...you’ll learn that language soon enough, when you’re ready to answer the Greybeards’s summons, to face yourself, Iona. But, for now...sleep. I’ll keep watch.”
Her weight increased on his arm by small increments as her body gave up the fight to stay awake. The breath coming out of her was slow and steady, and her face much less pained than it had been hours ago. Ulfric kept watch over her, running his fingers through her hair, allowing them to play over the perfect curve of her shoulders, back, spine, and side. He told himself it was all done in an attempt to make her comfortable, to ease her pain...and it was half true.
The other part...just as important...was that somehow in between the moment she’d walked into his palace and practically demanded a role to play in his crusade and the one they were now sharing, he’d begun to not only respect her but to care for her as well. Having her against him felt so natural where he’d thought it would be awkward beyond belief. Maybe it truly had been too long since he’d last held a woman in his bed.
...or maybe...no, it couldn’t be…
...maybe it was just her.
A rumble escaped her throat once more...a soft purrr that vibrated against him. Ulfric chuckled to himself and laid his head down next to hers, sharing a pillow, sharing breaths.
Daily doodles, this time of Ulfric taking care of Iona after she gets wounded pretty badly during the battle of Whiterun because she's doing her best to save Ralof and not kill her first Jarl and his court at the same time. Poor kitten.
But at least she has a big Nord space heater it seems. This is kind of the first actual touchy feely moment they share. There are some little things before this, but this is kind of that big, yeah...something's there in the feelz department. PERHAPS THERE'S SOMETHING THERE THAT WASN'T THERE BEFORE.
Category Artwork (Traditional) / General Furry Art
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 1280 x 960px
File Size 549.7 kB
Listed in Folders
Omg this is too damn cute. Love the story you’ve written to accompany it.
I love all the small cat ticks Iona has that sort of betray her true nature—piurring, buttscritches, all the things I never thought about khajiits having/doing but are probably TOTALLY a thing lmao. Headcanon accepted.
I love all the small cat ticks Iona has that sort of betray her true nature—piurring, buttscritches, all the things I never thought about khajiits having/doing but are probably TOTALLY a thing lmao. Headcanon accepted.
I could stay awake just to hear you breathing
Watch you smile while you are sleeping
While you're far away dreaming
I could spend my life in this sweet surrender
I could stay lost in this moment forever
Every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure
Don't want to close my eyes
I don't want to fall asleep
'Cause I'd miss you baby
And I don't want to miss a thing
'Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream will never do
I'd still miss you baby
And I don't want to miss a thing
Lying close to you feeling your heart beating
And I'm wondering what you're dreaming
Wondering if it's me you're seeing
Then I kiss your eyes
And thank God we're together
I just want to stay with you in this moment forever
Forever and ever
Don't want to close my eyes
I don't want to fall asleep
'Cause I'd miss you baby
And I don't want to miss a thing
'Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream will never do
I'd still miss you baby
And I don't want to miss a thing
I don't want to miss one smile
I don't want to miss one kiss
I just want to be with you
Right here with you, just like this
I just want to hold you close
Feel your heart so close to mine
And just stay here in this moment
For all the rest of time
Don't want to close my eyes
I don't want to fall asleep
'Cause I'd miss you baby
And I don't want to miss a thing
'Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream will never do
I'd still miss you baby
And I don't want to miss a thing
Don't want to close my eyes
I don't want to fall asleep
'Cause I'd miss you baby
I don't want to miss a thing
'Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream will never do
I'd still miss you baby
And I don't want to miss a thing
https://youtu.be/Ss0kFNUP4P4
Watch you smile while you are sleeping
While you're far away dreaming
I could spend my life in this sweet surrender
I could stay lost in this moment forever
Every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure
Don't want to close my eyes
I don't want to fall asleep
'Cause I'd miss you baby
And I don't want to miss a thing
'Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream will never do
I'd still miss you baby
And I don't want to miss a thing
Lying close to you feeling your heart beating
And I'm wondering what you're dreaming
Wondering if it's me you're seeing
Then I kiss your eyes
And thank God we're together
I just want to stay with you in this moment forever
Forever and ever
Don't want to close my eyes
I don't want to fall asleep
'Cause I'd miss you baby
And I don't want to miss a thing
'Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream will never do
I'd still miss you baby
And I don't want to miss a thing
I don't want to miss one smile
I don't want to miss one kiss
I just want to be with you
Right here with you, just like this
I just want to hold you close
Feel your heart so close to mine
And just stay here in this moment
For all the rest of time
Don't want to close my eyes
I don't want to fall asleep
'Cause I'd miss you baby
And I don't want to miss a thing
'Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream will never do
I'd still miss you baby
And I don't want to miss a thing
Don't want to close my eyes
I don't want to fall asleep
'Cause I'd miss you baby
I don't want to miss a thing
'Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream will never do
I'd still miss you baby
And I don't want to miss a thing
https://youtu.be/Ss0kFNUP4P4
You can tell you are a talented artist. Because you made me read that whole damn text - on my damn phone screen - and I liked it. Can't remember whenever I did this with someone's sumbission. Making someone being interested in this story who doesn't care about Skyrim and hadn't known both characters a while back. You could easily publish a book with lovely artworks to it and make good money. Your stuff here is a good example, how much meaning the concept of passion has for good artwork. That lower left panel is very lovely.
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