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Ondolemar and Kiara Appreciation Stamp

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Because why not? :giggle:

Ondolemar and Kiara are one of my oldest pairings, and the one people seem to associate me with the most (at times I even have sort of a Doyle/Holmes relationship with it, but only when I'm cranky).

Years ago, when Skyrim just came out, I thought it might be funny (in a cruel sort of way :XD: ) if a snooty mean Thalmor fell in love with an air-brained human girl, enduring all sorts of awkwardness due to the misadventures she would drag him into. Over time, however, this idea turned into a full-blown romantic story, with angst and everything, and Kiara became a more fleshed-out character: now her purpose was not to humiliate the poor Thalmor but rather to bring out his good side.

Here are some examples of art with these two:

O/K: Singing GirlMany, many years ago, on an afternoon so distant, so obscured by the mists of time that it almost seemed unreal, a small, timid elven boy with large, see-through ears and green eyes, opened wide in constant fear and bewilderment, had raised his hand in class, fingers trembling, and asked, in a hoarse voice because the stiff collar of his uniform was pressing into his neck,
'But... Doesn't it hurt... when people are tortured?'
His faltering, barely audible question had had the effect of a powerful muffling spell. The other children had frozen, statue-like, behind their desks, not daring as much as to breathe too loudly, eyes fixed on their hands, their inkwells, the pointed tips of their government-issued boots - anywhere but on their insolent studymate...
And the mentor had lowered the book he had been reading aloud from - a truly great book, a priceless book, filled with the infinite wisdom of the Dominion's rulers - and walked over to the boy's seat, and clasped his angular li
A Taste of MoonsugarThis fic is about Ondolemar and Kiara. Proceed with caution.
The little barbarian's backpack might just as well have been a portal into a plane of Oblivion; there was no way any object of the physical world could contain so many beast pelts. She must have fished out at least ten while she was putting up camp - humming to herself all the time, of course; it was a miracle that this annoying habit of hers had not yet driven him insane. Or had it?
Ondolemar shifted to make himself more comfortable. The pelts, wolf, bear, sabre cat, were piled up beneath him and over him, stifling him and making him want to sneeze. On the very first night out in the wilderness, he had declared that he was far too superiorly bred for sleeping on bare ground - and ever since then, the insufferable human would take it upon herself to wrap him up in a sweltering cocoon every time they decided to take a rest. Fighting her off, as he discovered, was no use. She dodged his shock magic with grace surprising
The GiftIt had been a lousy day for alms. Those strutting back-biters, with all the clean clothes round their well-fed bellies and proper roofs over their big fat heads, they didn't care one bit about the likes of him, about the Warrens folk. He could spend hours and hours moping around next to their nicely swept little doorsteps, or their neat little market stalls, hand outstretched - and the only thing he'd ever get from them would be an exasperated sideways glance and a nagging lecture.
'We'd gladly give you a septim or two, Degaine,' they'd say to him, 'But we all know you spend all your money on getting drunk'.
Well, so what if he did? What was he supposed to do, buy some yarn and knit a doily? The only way to look at this goddarn dump of a city was through a nice soft haze in your eyes; then it did not seem so awful... The buildings swayed and leaned over to you, friendly-like, and the pavement beneath your feet grew springy and bouncy, like one of those fancy beds all Warrens folk somet
Things That Go Lemmie in the Night'Ar - ' Cosnach was interrupted by a loud, prolonged belch and had to start over again. 'Argis! My favourite drinking buddy! Let's get some mead!'
Acknowledging the Reachman's greeting with a curt nod, the Nord lowered himself heavily next to him and gestured to Kleppr to bring him a tankard.
'Still no shipments, eh?' he asked, casting an intent sideways glance at Cosnach's red face, which, the nose and cheekbones especially, seemed to gleam in the firelight.
The merchant tracts leading up to Markarth were notorious for frequent Forsworn attacks -  and there was very little hope that the situation would ever improve, as the new Thane blatantly refused to help in wiping out every single camp of those barbarians. She believed (foolishly, Argis thought to himself, but he was her housecarl so it was not really his place to argue) that the savage tribes of the Druadach mountains could be reasoned with - and taking advantage of her kindness, the half-naked demon worshippers kept swoopin


O/K: Bringer of Light by NorroenDyrd I Will Be Your Eyes by NorroenDyrd

And the drawing this stamp is based on - which, for some reason, I couldn't insert as a thumb:

 Now, little human... Tell me more about myself...

(Odd that it's so blurry in the stamp, but I tried my best!)

Now let's see if anyone faves this or puts it on their profile! *rubs hands deviously*
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TeaDarkA's avatar
WHY!? Why Did I didn't saw this earlier!