Tagged : Astrid | Words : 736 | Notes : IT IS HEER.

With the obvious signs of impatience, Arnbjorn shifted in his position on the damp, slick rocks and grunted out a sigh. ”I wish one of these scraps would come out already. I can’t stand the smell of a creaky lighthouse.” The place was old enough that the wood, doused with water over the years, had started to sour and make a miserable stench. Arnbjorn wondered if someone inside wouldn’t come out just to have a little fresh air. Then again, not everyone was as consistently aware of smells as someone like Arnbjorn, and as he chewed on that fact, he figured Astrid wasn’t all that aware of or interested in any kind of lighthouse smells either.

His eyes shifted over to his wife. It had been a damn long time since the two of them had taken a contract together. At least a year. They usually tried to keep their relationship separate from their work. Arnbjorn would be the first to admit that her presence was a massive distraction to him, and the reasons why were ones that any straight, red-blooded male wouldn’t have any trouble understanding. Even out here in the dark, with them perched and preparing for their prey to emerge, he lingered in staring at her for a few seconds before shifting his eyes back towards the single entrance and exit to the lighthouse. He didn’t mind watching Astrid work, either. If anyone ever questioned why or how she’d become the head of the Brotherhood, they needed to have their skull rattled a few times to see if there was any sense inside of it. So yeah, point proven. It was best that any husband and wife with half an ounce of interest in each other not have the other half within reach when they were trying to let a few bodies limply hit the floor. Not every couple were assassins, though, so let them do whatever they wanted.

The whole reason it was the two of them out here was because the contractor had been a khajiit. Cat Nip, Arnbjorn had called him. Arnbjorn didn’t tend to like strangers by default, but khajiits held a special place in his ire. Everything about them seemed underhanded, their voices included. So when this khajiit had contracted them to take out a group of mercs holding this lighthouse, and Astrid had been the one to step up to take the contract and requested a second, Arnbjorn had stepped right up alongside her. The khajiit had a good enough story. The mercs were supporting a coastline-spanning group of smugglers who were crushing the import businesses of the khajiit, who’d been a merchant, and his associates. He wanted to make sure that, without the lighthouse, the ship arriving tonight would hit rocks instead of safe water. Khajiit were smugglers too, though. Arnbjorn wasn’t coming to any real conclusions about any kind of trap the cat could be setting, but the number of mercs that needed taking down had given him an excuse to come along and make sure none of the other jokers in the Brotherhood got to come along. Astrid might need her werewolf tonight, and Arnbjorn was definitely feeling hungry. He didn’t know if he’d call it romantic, but it was definitely good enough for a guy like Arnbjorn.

And their longstanding privacy out on the rocks overlooking the doorway was starting to grate on his nerves. ”I’m tempted to go knock on the door…though I think they’d take better to you standing there than me,” he commented, dryly, giving her a knowing shift of his eyes. Had to do something to pass the time, if he didn’t want to go seek out a feline and neuter it. The plan was to grab one of the guys when they stepped out for some night air and get a head count on the mercs inside. They’d decide the rest of the process from there…or Astrid would. She was the ones with the brains to match the looks. Problem was, their ace in the whole hadn’t shown up just yet. It was the best way to go about this without ending up fighting in the middle of a lighthouse, so Arnbjorn didn’t have any complaints about it.

He just wished their little “date” under the moon could get moving again. He scratched at his chin. The soon-to-be-dead liked to delay their fate too much for his liking.

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, background-color:#f4f4f4; width:400px; padding:8px; border: 8px solid #010101;] IT NEVER WAS AND NEVER WILL BE You don’t know how you’ve betrayed me AND SOMEHOW YOU’VE GOT EVERYBODY FOOLED From her perch on the slippery rocks, Astrid surveyed the situation once more. Beneath the waiting eyes and poise was a woman inpatient with the way things were currently going. She would have loved to be much further along in this contract that they currently were. The night was currently at an almost complete stop, where the only thing they were doing was watching and waiting. But they couldn't wait all night, and so she was getting increasingly ancey inside with the desire to get a move on. It would be nice to just go in, slaughter everything, and walk back out, but common sense crushed that. They were assassins, yes, but Astrid liked to keep things clean, to strike swiftly and silently. Blue eyes flickered to the lights of the oncoming ship, and back to the lighthouse that they were currently scoping out. Yes, she would love to get this over with, but her past years of experience kept her in the same spot instead of doing something foolish. Her husband’s voice interrupted her deep thinking. "They'll show themselves soon.", she promised, though she didn't, of course, know that for certain. She couldn’t smell anything aside from the dampness that surrounded them on the rocks, but his sense of smell had always been considerably better than most. Her 'quick' glance over toward him turned into a much longer one. Astrid felt that instant distraction from the mission while she did so. This was exactly why she almost never went to fulfill contracts with him. Normally the job had her undivided attention. Not so with Arnbjorn there with her. Though perhaps he didn't have perfect features, Astrid was still more attracted to him than she had been to anyone in her entire life. And so she felt content to look at him for a few seconds. After all, they were at a standstill for the moment with the contract anyway. And besides, he was now giving her his undivided attention as well. Astrid carefully shifted positions, being mindful of her location and the slippery rocks, until she was closer to her husband. As always, he had that pull on her, the ability to make her forget her current situation. With the grace of a feline, she settled herself beside him and glanced once more at the lighthouse. Waiting was something she has done a lot of in her years in the brotherhood, and though she didn't really like it, she also knew at times it was necessary. Arnbjorn however, didn’t seem to have any patience. Reaching out her hand, Astrid slid it under his hair and lightly brushed her fingers against the back of his neck while he commented about the current situation. When they had been contacted for this contract, Astrid had paid special attention to it, instead of passing it onto one of her ‘family’ members in the Brotherhood. Perhaps it was because it seemed somewhat of a challenge. Or perhaps it was because in the back of her mind, it had seemed a little bit shady, at least in terms of sincerity. She didn’t trust Khajiit’s whatsoever, and she would rather, if any funny business did happen, it happened to her, rather than say…Babette. Not that the youthful looking woman couldn’t handle it. No, it wasn’t that at all. Perhaps Astrid had just been bending over plans and information for too long, and wanted a bit of fresh air. Arnbjorn hadn’t fooled her though, when he had stepped up to accompany her. Not that she minded if he come along – aside from reasons of distraction. He had qualities that would make him an extremely good partner for this contract. She could deal with all the tight situations and the land on your feet thinking, but if this did turn out to be some trap laid by the wily Khajiit, Arnbjorn would be there, willing and able to do what he perhaps did best. Well… ’Second best.’, she concluded mentally, that knowing smirk up on her lips. Unfortunately, she couldn’t crouch beside her husband and stare at him all night. Though her hand was still caressing his neck slowly, she put a block on her mind and simply focused back on the task at hand. Though his desire wasn’t exactly stealthy, she had to admit it held some merit, and she was sick of crouching on some slippery rocks, waiting for one of the unsuspecting men to show themselves. “That’s not actually a bad idea.”, she mused aloud, giving him a knowing look. One of them would answer, and that would be no problem to grab one man without him putting up a fuss. After all, men usually did what they were told with a blade to their throats, and who better to grab hold of this man than her husband, while she had the honors of holding the blade? “You can cart one off while I…charm him into being silent, right?” She doubted he’d have any problems, even if the man that came happened to be an Orc. Removing her hand from caressing his neck, Astrid brushed her own hair over her shoulder and studied the decent. Shouldn’t be hard for her if she kept watch for slippery patches. “We do need to act quickly, or else we’ll miss our chance.”, she mentioned in a low voice, gesturing out toward the water at the oncoming ship. With that, she moved toward the edge with the same grace she had shifted toward him, jumping to the side and starting her decent. A handhold here, a foothold there, a tree attempting to live in solid rock, all perfect and helpful tools on making it from their perch on the rocks to the entrance of the lighthouse. The last part was a straight drop for about seven feet, with nothing but sheer rock. Astrid didn’t hesitate, but pushed herself off and dropped that last bit, landing with the ease of a cat, bending her knees to absorb the blow. So she crouched there, blue eyes scanning her surroundings before she glanced back up to see how her husband was doing. tagged !

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this lovely template was made by Arro from Caution 2.0 and features lyrics belonging to the oh so amazing Evanescence. please leave all of this credit stuff in tact and leave a link for Miss Roro here if you are going to be using this anywhere. Thank you, loves!

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Tagged : Astrid | Words : 976 | Notes : IT IS HEER.

The look Arnbjorn used to drink in the silhouetted form of Astrid lengthened as she stole over to him. Heh, maybe she was more impatient than she let on, too. His rough hand moved to give her a squeeze near the knee forceful enough only to be easily noticed. Then her hand made it to his neck, and Arnbjorn started to wonder if he couldn’t wait the whole night out for their merc to emerge. A low rumble, an easy indication of contentedness from the werewolf, rolled from his chest. Let no one ever wonder why husband and wife didn’t often double up on contracts. Still, anything that kept Arnbjorn from tearing down the door and aimlessly slog through the khajiit’s rivals could be considered a credit to the Brotherhood’s ability to finish the contract. The problem now would be in getting Arnbjorn to cease relishing the feel of his wife fingers long enough for them to actually perform the act of slaughtering those within. As much as Arnbjorn liked killing, he loved the company of Astrid more. The ease with which she calmed him dulled the intensity of the soured boards of the lighthouse, and of the quiet sounds of the night. All that remained was their waiting.

Arnbjorn had a little clarity of mind from the sense of relaxation, though, and though his comment about giving them a few raps on the door hadn’t been completely founded in seriousness, Astrid voiced the same conclusion that he had reached – it wasn’t actually the worst of ideas. The mercs, if the cat had been telling the truth, weren’t privy to the knowledge that anyone was aware that they were mercs instead of genuine soldiers watching over the lighthouse on a nightly basis. They wouldn’t get suspicious with someone giving them a few knocks on the door, and even if they were suspicious and a group of them decided to check on any guests that they received, they didn’t stand a chance in a an open fight with two assassins in the darkness of night – that the two assassins were a werewolf accustomed to the world under the moon and the most skilled member of their order only made matters worse for whichever among their targets first drew a sword. Then again, he and Astrid needed to avoid tipping off the ship to the notion that anything was wrong. Too much of a ruckus and they’d miss their mark in making sure the ship was led astray. Though Arnbjorn didn’t much care much for anything but chewing up the scraps, he knew that screwing with the ship was a part of the khajiit’s contract too, and they’d need to see it through.

Despite his disappointment at feeling the fingers abandon his neck, a sinister smirk pulled at Arnbjorn’s face when Astrid expanded on the idea that he’d shoddily crafted. ”He’ll be lucky if he can be anything but silent if I get my hands on him,” the werewolf assured his wife, turning to narrow his eyes at the areas surrounding the lighthouse. Shadows or anything concealed was what he was what his eyes searched for. ”We’ll get him to the treeline.” He pointed out the location of his meaning. ”If he brings friends, we’ve got time to drop all but one if they give you their attention.” And if they were any kind of warm-blooded male or even a warm-blooded woman, they’d be damned not to give Astrid their attention. That, or they were blind and this whole plan wouldn’t be necessary anyway. Wouldn’t that be just like a bunch of khajiit smugglers? Hire a bunch of blind mercenaries to take command of a lighthouse…

Astrid’s comment served as a cue for them to get a move on, and let her lead on the way down. Impatience showing again, Arnbjorn didn’t take the same sort of carefully crafted path as his wife, instead dropping down roughly onto the flat patches and simply ignoring the slight cuts earned by his feet as he slid down a few of the steeper slopes. It wasn’t pretty, but Arnbjorn kept perfect pace behind Astrid until he dropped onto the last ledge before the ground, letting her turn to face him before he indifferently dropped down beside her, landing roughly but generally as silently as his wife. Giving her a pat on the back of the arm as an unspoken signal to move on, Arnbjorn swept his gaze up the length of the lighthouse to the top as assurance to make sure no one had spotted them from the platform holding the torch. No signs of movement up there. Right, they were completely in the clear…until they served their own dinner with the knock on the door. With a capacity for stealth that belied his size, Arnbjorn stalked his way over to a rock jutting nearly into the side of the lighthouse, resting only a few feet away from the position of the door. Hurdling it, he settled in behind and became aware of a series of voices inside the building, causing him to pause long enough to stretch out his ear. Three of the mercenaries having a conversa- no, four mercs. Lauhing about something. Arnbjorn couldn’t be sure if they were all laughing about the same thing, though. Sounded like they were in two separate groups. Right, they weren’t worried about much of anything going on outside their little world.

Arnbjorn eased himself over the top of the rocks and signaled his wife with a simple nod of his head before setting himself in a position to pounce on whatever poor morsel popped out of the door and let Astrid distract him. And Arnbjorn had thought he’d be the one who screwed up by paying overmuch attention to his wife…to think that was how they’d complete the contract was ironic….and satisfying.

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #171818; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #171818 solid; border-bottom: 10px #171818 solid;] I’m on a hunt I’m after you and I’m hungry for the wolf {WORDS } 1126 {TAGGED } Arnbjorn {WEARING} DB armor Astrid acknowledged Arnbjorn’s squeeze to her leg by reaching her hand up to start stroking his neck. His sigh of satisfaction calmed her impatience as well. And she was impatient. Perhaps she didn’t show it, but it was there, gnawing at her. The desire to get a move on this contract, kill a few merc’s, destroy a ship, and get back to the brotherhood strong. Despite her love for the job, and what it all entailed, the distraction caused her to be very far from here in desire. With her husband near, Astrid had the temptation of desiring to do something very different on a moonlit night. One that didn’t quite involve what they were doing now. Enough of that. Even if she would rather not be here on top of slippery rocks, crouched and waiting for some action, that didn’t change that they were indeed at their current location. Returning her mind from her current thoughts back toward the contract wasn’t easy, but she did it. That ability to block out stimulus in favor of a duty was one she had learned over the years of being leader of the Brotherhood, and simply executed that now. She’d been attempting to figure out exactly what to do about the deadlock they had been in, when he suggested the course of action that he did. Astrid wasn’t sure if he had meant it as a joke or in serious, and didn’t really think about that aspect. All she knew was that she liked the idea. It was a bit chancy maybe, but if anything did go wrong, she also had faith that they would be able to turn things back around and clean up whatever mess they had to make in the process. Removing her fingers from touching her husband, Astrid riveted her attention completely back on the single entrance to the lighthouse while Arnbjorn explained what he could do. The wolfish grin on her lips indicated she had heard what he said – and agreed. Arnbjorn had this way about him that quite frankly scared the piss out of those he wanted to. She hadn’t ever understood that fear of him, but it did so amuse her to see what effect he had on others. That same way would definitely have a gripping effect on whatever unfortunate soul volunteered to answer the rap at the door. While he expanded, she simply followed along, nodding slightly in agreement. Nothing of that needed any sort of response from her. Astrid queued them to go on ahead and start their decent. Right after that she did so, making her way with ease down toward the bottom. With the stealth of a cat, she silently moved back and forth, looking as if she were dancing while she descended. At the bottom, she glanced up to see her husband, only for him to be right on the ledge. She admired him even as he dropped down beside her, but didn’t allow herself to get distracted as she had before. There was no longer any time for any feeling such as that. They had a contract to fulfill, and it seemed like they had both dropped the pull toward the other while they focused on the job. Astrid squeezed his arm in a reply to the pat, before shifting away from him. She stealthily made her way closer to the door, blue eyes searching his trail from beside her to his position where he would remain until she did her part. With a hand through her hair, Astrid nodded, scanned the same area he had above them to check and make sure it was clear, and stepped up to the door. She pulled her strength back while she rapped at the door and waited. Her ears – while nowhere nearly as sensitive as Arnbjorn’s, heard the slight laughter that came from within. A few seconds passed, in which she rapped once more. This time she heard the heavy footsteps come toward her. Inside she felt disgust. Who was so clumsy as to be so easily heard? One rule in order to survive in Skyrim was to remain undetected. Whoever this man was that was coming toward the door, it would seem as if he didn’t know anything about that. Astrid resisted the urge to roll her eyes, instead clasping at her arms as if warding off the chill in the night. On her face, was neither the cold nor the calculating expression she normally sported. In its place, was the innocent face of a woman lost and in slight despair. The door opened without further delay. The man, for all his noise in his approach, was nowhere near the size he should be to do so. His amused expression quickly faded to surprise and admiration for obvious reasons. “Can I help you?” Astrid nodded her head, keeping her desperate façade going. “Oh please!”, she burst out, lifting a hand up to clasp in a fist over her chest. “I was traveling the road to Solitude, hoping to reach the city, but…I’m afraid I must have become rather lost.” Astrid lowered her gaze and skittered it back to his eyes in a demure fashion, her long eyelashes fluttering. The grin that settled over his face wasn’t one that she liked very much. No…in fact, it reminded her of the face her uncle had made when he had tried those unwelcomed advances on her, all those years previous. “You’re traveling alone?” Astrid nodded, continuing to play her role as a helpless traveler. “Yes. Please, can you direct me back to the trail that leads to Solitude? I would be overjoyed by your assistance Sir.” With a chest that puffed out, he called over his shoulder that he’d be back in a few minutes, and stepped out the door, letting it bang shut behind him. Astrid didn’t much like the hand on her arm, and would have rather stuck her dagger in his gullet than allowed him to touch her – especially with that look he’d been giving her, but stood it for the moment while he motioned into the darkness from where they had come and started past the hiding spot of her waiting husband. “This way.” Astrid had his full attention while she gushed about his kindness in helping her, keeping him looking away from her husband. With a hand on her dagger, Astrid waited patiently for her Arnbjorn to make his move. She would be more than glad to hold that dagger against the neck of this man. This was going far too smoothly. {NOTES}

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by Duran Duran

Tagged : Astrid | Words : 773 | Notes : IT IS HEER.

Despite the need for a focus on their job, one of the things Arnbjorn loved about Astrid was the way she did her work. Aside from the way she moved with all of the easy grace that anyone could ever wish to have, as she’d proven already on her descent to the rocks, her mannerisms carried on to tell the story of her deadly nature. To him, all other women could typically be considered clumsy in comparison to his wife. He watched intently as she eased her way up to the door of the lighthouse, lucky enough to catch another few seconds of her until he heard the footsteps start clomping through the interior of the building. He angled his ear in the direction of the sound, deciding immediately that they might have been dealing with a man that was either drunk enough that the left step was longer than the right, or he had a mild issue with his leg. Either way, his undisciplined pounding against the lighthouse floorboards reminded Arnbjorn of living in Jorrvaskr. The Companions wanted to make the most noise they could to announce how powerful and memorable they were on a minute-by-minute basis. This sell-sword, Arnbjorn figured, was noisy only because he was an undisciplined scrap as the werewolf had described the whole group.

Arnbjorn couldn’t see the scrap in the doorway, but instead watched Astrid’s reactions to him, the faintest ghost of amusement crossing his face as he noted her expression in the small spray of interior lighting. Playing the part of an innocent was one thing Arnbjorn could never do as an assassin. Babette thrived on that sort of deception. Arnbjorn didn’t happen to be an attractive woman, a little girl, or anything aside from a dangerous-looking man that anyone would be wary of. A few huffed chuckles could have escaped his chest as he listened to her tale of desperation, but discipline squashed that notion, leaving him to instead keep a smirk on his face as the exchange continued. The bait hooked the man; there was no doubt from his tone and his responses that Astrid would have him outside in no time. With that fact in mind, Arnbjorn ducked down behind his cover a few more inches to ensure he wasn’t spotted, gathering the scene between two before the man called he would be leaving and came out to take Astrid by the arm. Arnbjorn would have scowled if he’d had any reason to think the man wouldn’t be dead by his or Astrid’s hands in less than a handful of minutes, anyway. Any trace of him disappeared behind the rocks, and he relied on sensitive ears for his timing and for any warning that one of the other men inside would decide to investigate the swift exit of one of their own. None of those inside were interested enough to do anything but continue laughing at their own bad jokes.

Arnbjorn listened to the pair of nearer voices and their footsteps – one set light and one remaining a miserable thing to hear – until he guessed they were right on top of him. Still Arnbjorn waited, letting another few steps pass until his head came up again to watch them moving past. Not allowing them to get to the far end of the rocks before he started moving, Arnbjorn got up onto his bare feet and took a few gathering steps before he planted a foot onto the top of the rocks and lunged, landing right behind the man with one arm wrenching back the man’s own and the other latching and tightening around his neck enough to cut off some of his air. Arnbjorn snatched him backwards, away from Astrid’s side, before shoving him forward again to give Astrid her opportunity to get the dagger in at his neck and disable his other arm. He wouldn’t have the breath to produce a scream in the meantime, and was so surprised he almost went limp to begin with. Some half-assed mercenary up against two of the Dark Brotherhood’s best. If this mercenary thought he had any chance of living through the night, he was fooling himself like he’d first fooled himself in getting into this line of work. He and his wife had to get this man moved, though, if they were going to keep up their trick. Quietly, Arnbjorn started to haul the man back towards the tree line, giving him a sharp kick to the back of the knees to loosen up his resistance. Astrid could deal with the other side of him in whatever way she so chose….probably the brutal way.

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #171818; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #171818 solid; border-bottom: 10px #171818 solid;] I’m on a hunt I’m after you and I’m hungry for the wolf {WORDS } 804 {TAGGED } Arnbjorn {WEARING} Arnor Astrid’s now wide eyes from forced innocence glanced from the man and then subtly glanced over his shoulder to look at where her husband had been. The man was talking about the path and the trail to Solitude, but though she feigned being completely absorbed, she wasn’t listening to a word that he was telling her. Why listen to some half-wit that would be in the hands of her powerful husband in hardly any time at all? Besides, Astrid had her levels of people that she could actually stomach, and this one sure wasn’t high on that list. She didn’t often exert energy on those that she deemed as unworthy. This man definitely fit that category. “Don’t you think?” Astrid’s eyes skittered back to him when he asked her that. For a moment, she contemplated as if thinking deeply about what he said while her mind raced as to what she should tell him. “If you say so, of course.”, she burst out. She had a fifty-fifty chance with that response, and was thankful when he beamed as if she had just given him the biggest compliment in the world. Ugh. Despicable. Yet again resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Astrid continued to lead the man away from the lighthouse. As if on cue, she felt her husband’s presence, and was ready when he did show himself. Without showing much of anything, Astrid easily stepped back and allowed Arnbjorn to do his thing, her cunning blue eyes drinking in how quickly and efficiently he had the target trapped within his crushing grasp, though Astrid had never experienced his strength as it was being portrayed herself first hand, she had seen it plenty of times. With the opportunity given her, Astrid had her dagger out and pressed against the neck of this man in the blink of an eye. She was glad to get rid of the man touching her arm, and just as glad that this night was now progressing. As much as she liked simply resting beside her husband and watching the night sky, they were out here for a reason. Astrid felt no regret or compassion from the fear that she saw in his eyes. He should learn to never go out in the night with a beautiful woman that was spewing innocence. This was Skyrim, no one could be innocent in the ways of life and survive. Glancing over her shoulder once, Astrid kept stride with her tall husband while he carted the limp man further away from the lighthouse. She took a step back to allow him the room to do whatever it was he wanted – which left the man cowering on his knees in front of her. Just as quickly she had her dagger yet again pressed to his neck, a hand clasping at his collar. “How many inside?”, she demanded to know in a low voice. “Please, oh Talos don’t kill me.”, he whined. Astrid rolled her eyes, before she pressed the dagger more firmly against his neckline. “Be a good boy, would you?” His eyes bugged to the point where she thought he was going to drop over dead. And still he kept her waiting, quivering from his fear. An annoyed expression appeared on her face. Little boys…tch. How any woman would want such a pathetic slip of a being, she had no idea. Growing impatient, Astrid reared her hand back and slammed the back of her hand into his cheek, enough energy exerted for him to fall to the side, quivering on the ground. Crouching down, Astrid grabbed him by the collar and hauled him to his feet, his face inches from hers. “I believe I asked you a question.”, she mentioned, her voice deadly. “And I’d be thankful if you didn’t wet yourself coming up with the answer.” This time, he seemed to know that he needed to answer her. “There’s five of us. Please let me live.”, he whined out. Five…not bad. That meant there was four left after this one. Two for Arnbjorn, two for her. With that, she glanced up at her husband for a moment to judge his reaction, her hand still clasping at the man’s collar. {NOTES} *flails around*

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by Duran Duran

Tagged : Astrid | Words : 676 | Notes : IT IS HEER.

As quickly as Arnbjorn had struck, so quick was Astrid to discourage the scrap that Arnbjorn dragged towards the woods from becoming overly optimistic with his chances for fighting back. Instead, what small resistance that the mercenary had put up when Arnbjorn first locked onto him subsided until the werewolf essentially carried a limp body towards the woods. Arnbjorn shot his wife a smug expression to acknowledge their success, inching his way back over the occasional rock and root while keeping an eye on the door to the lighthouse to make sure none of the merc’s friends decided to find out why their comrade had abandoned them. The night remained quiet, though, save for the dragging of the victim’s feet across the ground until Arnbjorn reached a point where he decided that all three of them were out of sight of the lighthouse. Releasing the man as violently as he’d grabbed him, Arnbjorn tore his arms away and sent an elbow into the man’s back to make sure he dropped to his knees. It was Astrid’s turn to get what she wanted out of him. Drawing the battleaxe from off of his own back, Arnbjorn stood there loosely holding it, ready to split the man’s skull if he caused Astrid too much of a problem.

But he was too busy whining to be anything close to a problem. Arnbjorn scoffed off towards the lighthouse, only glancing back to Astrid and the scrap once he heard skin meet skin. Huffing in the thinnest of humor, Arnbjorn managed to retain his patience for the pleasure of watching his wife work over half of a man. Arnbjorn couldn’t decide if the man was going to burst into tears or tell them what they wanted to know, but once Astrid made it clear that it was the information or further pain and emasculation, they finally got their answer. They only had four left to take out. Heh, Arnbjorn or Astrid alike could have likely taken out four men like this on their own, even if the job would have taken longer without them as a pair. Arnbjorn met eyes with Astrid only long enough to send her a silent message with his eyes, telling her the man’s use to them had run its course. Jabbing the edge of his axe into the ground to force it to remain in place, Arnbjorn silently stepped forward, took the man by the temple and jaw, and wrenched once. A thick crack preceded the man going motionless, only supported by Astrid’s grip on his collar. ”He’s lucky there’s no one around to see how pathetic he is,” came Arnbjorn’s only comment, before he turned and freed his axe from the dirt. This death would be only the first that Sithis bore witness to this night.

The werewolf started on the way back towards the lighthouse, moving within the cover of the trees until he could again be sure none of the other mercenaries had emerged in the couple of minutes it had taken Astrid to get the number out of the worthless coward. Still nothing to see. Arnbjorn could still ear them all inside, an occasional frantic laugh piercing the walls as a sign of their ignorance to the deaths that awaited them. In spite of how unaware they might have been to the world outside, though, Arnbjorn doubted that the same trick could work twice to lure more of the mercenaries out to a succession of quick deaths. Besides, he and Astrid needed to keep the fight inside to make sure the ship didn’t get tipped off to any sort of problem, and the ship would be getting close enough to have a glass pointed at the shore at this point. Getting inside would be the smart way to go, rather than leading the sheep out to their slaughter. ”The scrap have a key on ‘im?”, Arnbjorn questioned of Astrid, bringing his axe up to his shoulder once the question was asked. ”Or do I need to get us in the vulgar way?”

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #171818; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #171818 solid; border-bottom: 10px #171818 solid;] I’m on a hunt I’m after you and I’m hungry for the wolf {WORDS } 760 {TAGGED } Arnbjorn{WEARING} Something! Arnbjorn’s matched look caused her to nod slightly. Four would be a simple task for either one of them. Together it would simply move along faster. As far as she was concerned, they could get going with this night, deal with these little boys attempting to play the roles of men, and really get a date out under the stars. Not wishing upon them either. That sounded like a very pleasant end of a night like this. Ahhh, that caused a smirk to shift back on her lips before she let go of the man before them and took a step back. Perhaps she should have felt a little guilty about her thoughts while this boy whimpered and sobbed for his life. But she couldn’t quite make herself feel any pity while Arnbjorn dispatched him. Neat and efficient, and yet so full of power. She never could tire of watching that man work. Yes…he could certainly handle himself. Astrid remembered then the look that Allimir had given her when she had told him that. Obviously Allimir didn’t share her high opinion of her husband’s quality of work. She nearly snickered aloud at that thought, but restrained herself down to her normal smirk. Yes, pathetic. Leaning over the body, she quickly searched the boy that had thought himself so important minutes ago. After patting down his still form, she came out with a few septims and belongings. A grunt of approval came when she got the key to the place, before slipping it in her pocket. Brushing off the front of her dark clothing, she slipped her own dagger back in its small sheath and nodded her head. “Boys should be at home with their mothers.”, she responded lightly, before stepping over the body and inclining her head toward the lighthouse, as if to say ‘shall we?’ Quickly they moved back toward the lighthouse, where Astrid watched her husband go through the motions of double checking themselves. So far nothing, so they could proceed with this. It was vital that they kept the fight inside the lighthouse so as to not warn the approaching ship. Having a key to the place would make that all the easier. So her husband had the same idea. Inclining her head in a slight nod, she produced the key in her gloved hand. “You can save that for later.”, she tempted him with a lightly raised eyebrow. Enough time for that later though. Slipping the key into the lock, she moved it to the side until she heard the very slight ‘click’ that gave away the ability to now get inside. Flashing one more look over her shoulder, Astrid boldly pushed the door open and stepped inside. The faces of the men inside seemed to register her in three stages of emotion. The first, confusion that anyone was waltzing inside their lighthouse. The second, was-…lust, which made her desire even more to bash their heads against the rock walls, and the third was fear when they saw her husband entering behind her. Apparently they hadn’t been expecting or desiring a big strapping completely irresistible giant of a man to come in the night. “Did you get to enjoy your last night on Skyrim?”, she asked pleasantly, though her eyes glowered at them. “What…what happened to Joe?” Without answering, Astrid produced her blade of woe. They seemed confused again at her production of a weapon, but quickly they scrambled for their own weapons, haphazardly scattered around the place. “Just like ants.”, she commented in amusement to her husband. “Scurrying to their deaths.” Oh how she liked to make an entrance. {NOTES} Tada

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by Duran Duran

Tagged : Astrid | Words : 734 | Notes : IT IS HEER.

Regarding the key in his wife’s hand and the hidden message in her voice, Arnbjorn nodded with a smirk hidden in the darkness and indicated that he was ready by hefting his axe into both hands again. Caution at this point in their mission was nothing but a waste of good time to be spent otherwise on a night like this one. If their first victim was any indication, cutting through the others would be no more of a problem than the snapping of that scrawny neck. Arnbjorn wanted to see the task done, especially because it had gone smoothly enough thus far that he had no reason to slaughter their khajiit employer. His eyes followed Astrid’s motions closely in the dark as he eased himself against the side of the door and waited for the few seconds it took her to get the door open. With only mild patience he let his wife enter first, ready to intervene vulgarly as he’d mentioned if he heard anything akin to a crossbow bolt or arrow being fired from within. Arnbjorn waited only a couple of beats before he turned menacingly into the doorway and fell in place beside his wife, brutalizing the hinges on the door as he rammed it shut behind both of them. No one was getting past him anyway, but Arnbjorn was going to make sure no one so much as tried. Half of the pleasure in this field of work – aside from working with Astrid – was letting the victims know they were lost to the world before the axe fell.

Arnbjorn cut his eyes to Astrid after seeing the unprepared mercenaries scatter for weapons they wouldn’t need in order to die. ”Then trod them into the ground,” he told her, before stepping forward to follow his own advice and methodically cut his half of the scraps down. Axe already above his head, he took a long, explosive step towards one trying to nab a sword and shield from off of a table and drove the weapon down across the man’s body. A bone could be heard snapping and the short burst of red informed the werewolf that the blade had connected with something anatomically important, but the man wasn’t dead yet. In fact, he had enough strength left in him to pick up the shield and fall onto his back. More fight than the first dead man in this one, then. In a display of surprising patience, Arnbjorn took a couple of steps towards the man again and kicked his bare foot down onto the shield, pinning the man underneath it. ”One,” he grunted out, barely paying attention as his axe swung down again and split the man’s skull. He was already looking for the second one on his side of the room, and by the time he had eyes on the target, he felt a stinging in his shoulder that nearly caused it to go limp and release his axe.

With a feral flash of teeth, Arnbjorn stepped aside in time to let the second thrown knife pass by him before pulling the first of them from his shoulder with a reluctant pant rolling from his chest as he did so. It wasn’t a half-bad throw, perfected by a coward who planned to avoid every direct fight with a well-placed knife to the chest if he could help it. Too bad for him, he’d missed. Arnbjorn angrily discarded the knife by tossing it against the wall, taking steps towards the man to finish him off in a way worthy of a Nord. The scrap would even get a chance to take on Arnbjorn with the proverbial hand tied behind his back, as his arm felt damaged enough to hinder Arnbjorn’s use of his axe. Not reacting as the other man drew his own axe from his belt, the werewolf was content to stand back and challenge the other man with his eyes, even showing his disinterest by giving Astrid a long, highly intrigued glance as she performed her work. Hmm…she might want this one, and judging by the expression on the man’s face, his heavy breathing, and how he leaned back into the wall behind him for comfort, he would have no inclinations to go on the attack anytime soon. Letting Astrid perform her beautiful work while Arnbjorn dropped one of the scrappier ones seemed like an idea to him.

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #171818; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #171818 solid; border-bottom: 10px #171818 solid;] I’m on a hunt I’m after you and I’m hungry for the wolf {WORDS } 874 {TAGGED } Arnbjorn {WEARING} Something! With her free hand propped against her chin as she entered, Astrid kept a smug grin on her features. When she had stopped and allowed Arnbjorn space to enter in behind her, she watched in amusement while the shock and fear registered on their faces. And they should feel fear. Despite knowing why they looked at her like that, Astrid had never particularly cared about anyone aside from her husband looking at her like a slab of meat. And of course, it was different when he gave her looks like that anyway. And so she did enjoy seeing the fear when they saw his presence towering behind her. The terror seemed too much for them, as they dissipated and fled toward their weapons. Astrid hated to tell them this, but they weren’t going to survive this night. Meeting Arnbjorn’s eyes, she gave a sharp nod before her blade came out and up. Narrowed blue eyes took in the first man that had managed to actually find a weapon. The idiot started to run toward her. Never attack in anger. Balancing on the balls of her feet, Astrid dodged the hastily swung sword at the last second, ducking to the side. Placing her free hand on the table that was directly to her right, Astrid gained the top of that and swung gracefully to attack the man. With ease, she caused him to stumble backward, following her attack by tripping him up. As he fell, Astrid feigned doing so as well, catching his neck between her calves and jerking to the side. The normally strong bones snapped, along with the man slumping down. Quickly and calmly she rose from that attack, intelligent blue eyes scanning over to see her husband where he was. He had one of the men down with a split skull. Though she saw the blade pierce his shoulder, Astrid quickly turned away, knowing he could handle whatever the second attempt at a man could dish out. Aside from that, she had a raging lunatic with a battle axe swinging at her. Astrid dropped to avoid being sliced in half and rolled to the right wildly. Catching herself with an outstretched hand, her face came up, a snarl on the curve of her lips. In her half crouched state, Astrid once more rolled wildly out of the way when the man went to slam the battle axe down where her body had been moments before. A low growl came out while she set her foot and attacked the man, knocking into his knees. While he stumbled back, Astrid reached for her blade. By that time the man had his axe slung back over his head before he would have attempted to split her in half. With a grunt, Astrid propelled herself up and toward him, her blade piercing his chest. Adrenaline gave her the strength she needed to physically lift him off the ground, before she withdrew her blade in a graceful twirl. A slight huff came from her lips while she lifted a hand to fix her hair by patting it down. The man’s bulging eyes stared at her, even as he tottered on his feet, the look of shock still strong on his features. Slowly his numb hands released the axe to clatter on the marble surface behind him. Reaching forward, Astrid smiled at him. “Two.”, she finished for her husband’s start, before she placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back to crumple on the ground, dead before he hit. While she once more fixed at her hair, Astrid turned around to see what situation her husband was in. Judging by his look and the man slumped against the wall, he was doing okay. Striding toward him, Astrid tried to look at where his wound should be. Astrid moved her hand to caress his chin slightly. “Who gets the pleasure?”, she asked softly, her blue eyes flickering from her husband to the man leaning against the wall. “Son of a bitch!”, the man screamed, before yanking up his sword and coming toward them. Despite moving away from her husband, Astrid merely watched his attempt to run across the lighthouse toward them. {NOTES} Icky post is icky

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by Duran Duran

Tagged : Astrid | Words : 586 | Notes : IT IS HEER.

The only real disappointment during this job – this slaughter, now that they knew they were dealing with half-pint meatheads who barely knew how to hold up their armor, much less a sword – was that Arnbjorn was far too distracted with his own takedowns to keep a keen eye on Astrid’s own, even if he could hear them to a point of detail that nearly made them visible. He did catch a quick glance of Astrid’s creative first kill after he’d brought his axe down for his own, thinking amusedly to himself that those were indeed a pair of dangerous legs that she was putting to good use, as always. As long as these scraps went down as quickly as the first two, Arnbjorn wouldn’t have to worry about how much thoughts on his wife could distract him. Thus, he turned on to the next one, who infuriatingly was managing to put up a better fight than the first…because he was unwilling to get anywhere near Arnbjorn thus far. Smart tactic. Highly annoying, like a fly in the ear – and about as dangerous – but it avoided his death for an extra few seconds. Arnbjorn was content to let the mercenary’s fear reach a torturing point, as the werewolf stared at him and continued to listen to the panicked catch evident in each breath taken.

Astrid finished, and Arnbjorn could hear by the sound of a body crumpling to the floor even if she hadn’t bothered to announce it. He stole a glance at her approaching him, resting affectionate eyes on her face before they once more hardened to regard the useless bag of flesh in front of them. Hmm…it was hard to concentrate on his anger, though, with Astrid’s fingers there to work at him again and his mind reverting back to the ideas that her first kill had triggered him to create in his mind. Taking in a breath and letting his still somewhat numb arm rest at his wife’s hips long enough to answer her question, Arnbjorn nonetheless would be met with the site of the fool finally breaking. Of course, the scrap would ruin a short moment for them as husband and wife. Unconcerned though he brought his arm back and remained set in place while Astrid provided some space, the werewolf shook his head. ”Bad idea.” Letting his axe drop to the floor, Arnbjorn brought his arm forward, so unconcerned by the sword pointed at him that he only sidestepped it before wrapping his hand around the wrist holding it and yanking violently. The blade clattered to the floor.

Arnbjorn wrenched the man closer, taking him roughly by the neck of his armor and receiving only a wild assortment of blows to his stomach and chest in return. Once Arnbjorn had the man by the neck, though, the hits subsided and turned to the effort to pry the werewolf’s hand loose. Though the opportunity was there for Arnbjorn to give the man any insult to his masculinity that he could have wanted, as he hefted the mercenary up a few inches to be face-to-face with him, he gave only the simplest of parting words. ”Hail Sithis.” Squeezing more tightly on the windpipe, Arnbjorn ensured that the scrap was stripped of enough oxygen to retaliate before lowering him and dragging him off to the side, momentum sending the man stumbling towards Astrid. Arnbjorn’s eyes met with his wife’s, signaling for her to finish this off in whatever way she so chose. Hail Sithis indeed.

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #171818; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #171818 solid; border-bottom: 10px #171818 solid;] I’m on a hunt I’m after you and I’m hungry for the wolf {WORDS } 666 <-- Bwuaha {TAGGED } Arnbjorn {WEARING} Something! Astrid moved her arm to accommodate her husband when he decided to lean on her. Instead she rested her hand lightly below his neck while she glanced between the two men – though arguably one couldn’t be much more than a boy. Their conversation didn’t go much further than her question though, with the man flying into a furious rage and picking up his sword to attack them. Boredom crossed her pretty face at the man. What did he think? That he had any chance against two deadly assassins? Particularly two that had been doing this for some time? Perhaps he thought he was being brave, or that his show of dominance would frighten them. Astrid regarded him as little more than stupid. She did have to admit though, he was putting up more of a fight than that piece of shit they’d dealt with outside the lighthouse. At least this one was yelling instead of sniveling all over the ground like a child. Having given her husband enough room to work, Astrid placed a hand on her hip and was content to watch his show of power. From the back of her throat came a low growl of approval. It was hard to concentrate on a job that you had to do when your husband was looking so fit for any other duties he might want to complete. Boredom was replaced with approval on his actions. On that subject however, there wasn’t much that Arnbjorn did that didn’t have her approval and desire. The weapon that clattered from the hands of the man came close enough to settle near her feet. Her attention was diverted when the man was sent stumbling her way – even if her desire was not. Astrid shifted her body as the man stumbled toward her. When he was close, she lifted a foot and kicked him in the knees to send him sprawling in the opposite direction. In the same movement, she bent over to pick up the weapon that had been deposited on the floor. Turning, she noticed that the man had flopped over the wooden table while her attention had been on the sword. In two steps she was close to him. “No! No, no, n-“ The ragged pleading was cut off the moment Astrid pinned the man to the table beneath him with his own sword settled in his chest. Without sparing the dead man another glance, Astrid’s gaze once more settled on her husband. “Your shoulder?” Despite never having been a caring person in her life, Astrid worried more for her husband than anyone in the world. Sometimes it seemed like he was the only one that could even manage to worry her. Luckily for her he rarely caused her any of that worry, so she didn’t often have to show the softer side of her nature – if it was even able to be called ‘soft.’ Duty called however, and so Astrid sheathed her own blade and started off toward where the light would be. That had only been step one of their contract, and time was running shorter as they delayed. It was time to send a ship crashing into the rocks instead of sailing through safe waters. {NOTES} None!

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by Duran Duran

Tagged : Astrid | Words : 742 | Notes : IT IS HEER.

Again shaking his arm to rid it of its irritating numbness, Arnbjorn watched in silence at the continually pathetic display that these so-called “mercenaries” were putting on down to their last holdout. He couldn’t name how many times he wondered what compelled these miserable bags of skin and bones to pick up a sword in the first place when they could barely support their head atop their necks. The type of man like the one stumbling down in front of Astrid – encouraged by her sharp kick – only got into the work for the coin they could make. They all needed run-ins with the Brotherhood at some point in their lives. Either they’d be dead and of no concern anymore, or they’d get the clue that they were more cut out for sitting behind a desk and holding something no heavier than a quill. Arnbjorn was genuinely disgusted by what he’d seen from these men here tonight, and he had few doubts that Astrid probably was too.

At least he’d had the pleasure of seeing her work on a job for the first time in months. His expression registering his approval at her work to finish off the last man, knowing that whoever found this mess was going to see this man impaled against a table and know exactly who had performed the act, Arnbjorn bent down to retrieve his axe and return it to its holster on his back. The interesting part – if it could be called interesting to deal with such a pathetic group – was done, but they still had a ship to blind and see crash into the jagged rocks on the shore.

A frown of indifference made its way to the corners of his mouth as Astrid asked him about his shoulder. ”Won’t remember it in an hour,” he reported to her, knowing he wasn’t exaggerating. The thrown blade had barely hit a muscle. ”He needed to learn to throw harder.” If he had, he might have lived a few extra moments, for whatever good it would have done him. The slab of flesh now strewn across the top of the table wouldn’t have made it through the night under any circumstances or with any stroke of luck.

With his eyes still fixated on Astrid, he let her lead the way up the stairs – earning a view for doing so – and listened out over both of their light steps to check for any inkling of a presence upstairs. He heard nothing but what must have been the crackling of the fire up above them. He could smell the charred wood used to maintain it, too – an annoying scent. Arnbjorn placed more of his focus on keeping on his wife’s heels rather than heeding his senses, lest his good mood be ruined.

It wasn’t much of a trip before the both of them were in the lantern room. Arnbjorn narrowed his eyes at the fire within, but it wasn’t as much concern to him at the moment as seeing how far the ship had gotten during the fight downstairs. He could see the dimly lit torches on its deck clearly; good, it was still far enough out that it definitely hadn’t picked out a safe way up to the shore just yet. ”We cleaned up in good time,” Arnbjorn reported to his wife, turning to glance her. ”Count them lucky if they don’t hit half a dozen rocks."

They’d only hit them once this fire was out, though. Turning to heave up the bucket kept in the corner to put out the fire during the day, Arnbjorn lifted it mostly with his good arm and shifted to dump it over the fire, repeating the process a second and third time to get rid of it all for good. The heat and illumination in the room both disappeared, leaving him and his wife in darkness. He dragged the dampened canvas over the embers to make sure they didn’t revive again and ruin their work.

Now came the waiting for the ship to hit something damaging , and waiting was something the Dark Brotherhood could do all too well. Arnbjorn had his wife with him in this pitch black room…that was all the patience he needed to muster. Trudging over to the one perch in the room, he slid himself up onto it and glanced her, inviting her over to join him for the view of the ship on the waters beyond.

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #171818; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #171818 solid; border-bottom: 10px #171818 solid;] I’m on a hunt I’m after you and I’m hungry for the wolf {WORDS } 687 {TAGGED } Arnbjorn {WEARING} Her shrouded armor Astrid nodded her satisfaction when he mentioned that in an hour he would feel no pain. She expected no less from her husband of many years. Time and time again he had proved himself to be nothing short of a man, and so he continued to be. Yet again why he continued to be so irresistible in her eyes, continued to fuel that hunger deep within her that only he had ever completely filled. It didn’t seem the list bit odd to go from thoughts of a contract to a very different show of power, though perhaps it might be to others, and she nearly lost sight of their contract yet again. His mere presence was a distraction, one that Astrid would gladly enjoy taking a break for, if there were time for such things right at the moment. If there was anything she liked doing more than what she did for the Brotherhood, it was certain activities with her husband. But enough of that. Quickly expelling those thoughts from her mind, Astrid turned away from her husband and made her way up the stairs and toward the top of the lighthouse. The smell of burning wood infiltrated her senses as well, irritating her slightly, but she quickly adjusted to the scent that permeated the air around them and forgot it, though she was sure her husband was having a harder time adjusting to the scent than she was. Instead, she made her way over to the window in order to look out at the ship that was looming. With narrowed eyes, she took note of the estimated distance it was away, quickly satisfied that they had done their work within the time limit and that the next part of their contract would go just as smoothly as the first. Nodding her satisfaction once again, Astrid stalked easily back to where her husband had settled himself, quickly sparing him a smirk when he commented on their work. “Perfect. The Khajiit will have gotten what he wanted tonight.” Without making any more comments, Astrid watched, somewhat mesmerized as her husband put out the fire that fueled the light to guide the ships in. The embers burned and danced in front of her, beckoning, before they were eliminated. A tribute to how delicate the balance between life and death was. Something so alive could be snuffed out as quickly as that. That knowledge was perhaps what had kept her alive this long. It was also telling of their night, how quickly that flame had been able to be destroyed. And instead of the inviting warmth and light, they were now in darkness. Astrid kept her eyes on the remains of a fire for a few more seconds before she too turned toward their view of the ship. Arnbjorn didn’t need to look twice at her to get her feet moving, and so she joined him on his perch. It was with ease that she moved her body up and settled herself on his lap to watch the wreckage take place, as she was sure it would happen. At the same time, once more she found it hard to muster up any care for a ship when her husband’s commanding presence was so close, his heat radiating to warm her as well. Brushing some hair back over his shoulder, a near-purr of contentment issued from her lips while she leaned against him and waited, her fingers lightly working over his shoulder to relieve any tension that might present itself. {NOTES} Astrid muse apparently just wanted her puppy in this post. I blame you

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by Duran Duran

Tagged : Astrid | Words : 683 | Notes : Feel free to lead them there!

”Then it’s too bad I never gave a damn about the Khajiit,” Arnbjorn said as an aside, wanting to get his shots in against the race that truly should not have been a part of Skyrim in Arnbjorn’s eyes, even if he wasn’t a bristling racist in the vein of Ulfric Stormcloak. Arnbjorn’s main beef with other races was with the cats, and he’d just as soon see them turned into beef, judging by the ones he knew. Ugh, he’d almost forgotten that their contract was with one of the damned cats, but in the end, the contractor never mattered in the slightest so long as they paid. If this particular client didn’t pay, Arnbjorn was going to take great joy in tracking him down and tearing him limb from limb once he found him, with the teeth and claws to dwarf the cat’s own. In fact, Arnbjorn hoped he wouldn’t pay. Getting the chance to drag the Khajiit’s severed head back and drop it at Astrid’s feet seemed a worthy way to cap off the end of the contract.

But Arnbjorn had the contract to finish, first. As expected, there was nothing to getting the fire put out, though Arnbjorn had never worked a lighthouse in his life. It was no wonder how the Solitude lighthouse changed from hand to hand depending on who had the bigger swords. Though the darkness would have ruined the situation for anyone else, Arnbjorn and his wife both thrived in the dark…for more than one reason. The most enticing of those reasons brought a wide smirk to his face as he settled into the darkness to watch the ship’s destruction. It was with a mildly rough affection that Arnbjorn pulled Astrid further onto his lap once she reached him, and though male instinct – and a more feral instinct that would have made Hircine proud - had him wanting to go beyond wrapping his arms tightly around Astrid’s sides to her chest and nuzzling his face against the loose hairs that had made their way to her neck, his will proved strong as ever and kept him in command even as she started her pleasant work on his shoulder. They would have plenty of nighttime left for their own “contract” once the current work was done, and judging by the way the ship was barreling recklessly towards the shoreline, Sithis would be feeding well, and soon.

Arnbjorn let out a low, satisfied grunt when the ship made the first, satisfactory crack as it ran against an unseen rock. The lights atop the deck shifted, a clear sign that the ship had been sent off her previous path by the impact. The rest of the display was a beautiful sight for an assassin. What part of the crew wasn’t eaten up by the waters when the ship was assaulted by a perfectly-laid trap of Skyrim’s natural spikes chose to dive overboard, Arnbjorn noticing at least one or two against the light that collided into the rocks themselves to earn at least a multitude of broken bones if it didn’t kill them. ”And this is why we prefer the darkness,” Arnbjorn said quietly with an equally quiet huff, in reference both to the ship and the hand he slipped easily to Astrid’s thigh.

The ship, for all intents and purposes, was as much a wreck as the ships buried in the sea along with their crew, though it still shifted and bellowed with the pained sounds of the wood, the sails still caught up by the wind. Stragglers would have survived, but they’d be in miserable shape, still starving him and his wife of a good fight and good kill. Still, the job was to kill everyone involved in the smuggling, and a few more bodies accumulating on the shore would only serve as a greater warning to Skyrim about the Brotherhood. Squeezing tightly on Astrid’s leg to let her know he was going to stand, Arnbjorn leaned forward off the table and lowered her to the floor. ”Let’s make that water crimson. I’ve had enough of this job, and we have...other ways we can spend the night.”