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From: (Anonymous)

Summary: Nobody really expected the Dragonborn to lead an ordinary life, have an ordinary family, or live in an ordinary home.
Tags: char:F!PC, char:iona, char:alessan, char:mjoll, char:aerin, char:gregor, char:uthgerd_the_unbroken, char:erith, relationship:gen, relationship:femslash, relationship:het, kink:family

They had gone to Dawnstar to investigate some rumor that they had picked up on the road, but once they arrived at the city itself, Ki'shaal had almost immediately become sidetracked. Iona had never known her than to be so easily distracted, and they had crossed Skyrim together more times than she cared to count. Something was wrong, and Iona was determined to figure out what.

"You seem... troubled," she said as they were leaving the blacksmith's. "Is something wrong?"

"This place," said Ki'shaal, gesturing broadly at the town before them. "I do not like it."

Iona scanned the bay along with the houses and shops arranged around it. She could not readily see what about it could be so offensive. Compared to Riften or Windhelm it was a quiet town where people seemed content to lead their lives in peace. Even the war did not seem to have disrupted people's daily lives.

"Seems to me people just needed a decent night's sleep," she said.

Ki'shaal harrumphed. "All the same, I will be glad to be on our way home."

Iona crossed her arms. "I still don't understand why you built your house here, then. We could have stayed in Riften. It's much warmer, for one."

For a few moments they walked in silence, until the Dragonborn spoke again.

"The mines," she said.

"Huh?" Iona was confused. "What about the mines?"

She pointed at a narrow path that ran between two houses and disappeared behind the apothecary's shop. Iona followed her gaze and watched the workers climb the path towards the mine's cavernous entrance. A few hold guards wandered the area, keeping an eye on the smelters and iron being carted out of the mine. A young child was dashing up the path, lugging a heavy basket.

"Oh," said Iona faintly.

"Children working in mines," said Ki'shaal, shaking her head firmly.

"At least he's not inside the tunnels, digging?" said Iona.

Ki'shaal grumbled again, and said, "Wait here."

Iona watched her stalk up the path to the iron mine. She had a bad feeling about this.

She would remember that feeling later, when she was riding the southbound road, sharing her horse with a squirming, excitable foundling.

***

The ride to Heljarchen was uneventful enough, with not a bandit or even a wolf in sight. They saw nothing more exciting than a trio of Stormcloaks marching a prisoner out of camp, whom Iona steadfastly ignored. As luck would have it, though, once they reached the estate's approach, things started getting interesting. The Divines must be having a good old laugh, Iona thought as she dismounted and handed the horse's reins to the boy.

"Stay here and don't move," she said sternly to him. "I mean it."

Alessan watched in fascination as his new-found protector drew a gleaming black sword and charged down the sloping hill. A sprawling estate house dominated the valley below, surrounded by gardens and outbuildings and even a mill. More pressing than his future home, though, was the massive creature rampaging through it, waving a huge club. Alessan had never seen a giant, but he knew this had to be one.

He continued watching as the red-haired lady swung her sword at the giant's legs. He didn't really believe that a valiant knight could take down a giant alone, but as he watched he noticed someone else striking out at the creature with a huge battleaxe, and heard a whistling sound like flying arrows. He looked around for their source and spotted a man standing at the top of the estate's lone tower, and another woman by the stables. Altogether there were four of them.

His new mother had a personal army. The thought was more than a little exciting.

From: (Anonymous)

A/N: So it turns out I've been spelling Alesan's name wrong this whole time. Poor boy.

The giant dropped to the ground with a mighty crash. While the adults milled around it, Alesan looked down at the reins in his hands and wondered whether he could steer the horse down the slope to the stable on his own. He didn't have much time to wonder. A red-haired woman was climbing the hill in his direction. This was not the same woman that his new mother had assigned to bring him home. She was taller and older, and he recognized her as the one he'd first seen attacking the giant, if only by the size of the axe strapped to her back.

"Hello, boy," said the strange woman. "Iona tells me you've come to live here."

He nodded once.

"Good," she said, nodding back. "My name is Uthgerd. I'm the steward here at Heljarchen Hall. Let me take care of the horse. You go on inside and get warm. Someone will be along to show you around."

She reached up and pulled him off the horse before he had the chance to protest that he could do it himself.

"Go on, now," said Uthgerd.

Alesan didn't need to be told twice. It was cold out, and the wind was icy. He was used to the warmth of Windpeak Inn's hearth, or the stifling heat inside the mines. He ran down the slope, rubbing his hands together to thaw them, while Uthgerd called out a warning after him. He wasn't worried. He'd always been a good runner and he could easily dodge any rocks in his path. He didn't slow down until he got close to the body of the dead giant.

A man and a woman were standing over the remains, talking. When the man noticed him, he nudged the woman and gestured towards him with his chin.

The woman raised her voice. "I'm sure you can take care of disposing of this alone, Gregor. I'll let the boy in the house."

She held out her hand to him. "What's your name, boy?"

"Alesan," he said.

"Do you want to see your new room?"

He nodded emphatically and grabbed her hand.

The manor she walked him into was huge. It was the biggest house he'd ever seen. He even thought it might be bigger than the ship his pa worked on, but that was a long time ago, and he couldn't remember it very well. She walked him through a front hall into a much larger, brightly lit room and he looked around at all the stairs and doors, wondering where they led to and how many people lived here. Just then one of the doors opened and another man came through it, followed by the rich intoxicating smell of fresh-baked... something.

"Mjoll! Is the giant dea-- oh." He blinked and stared at him. "Who's this little man?"

He let go of her -- Mjoll's -- hand and walked over, offering his hand to the man. "My name is Alesan. I've come to live here."

The man gravely took his hand and shook it. "Pleased to meet you, Alesan. Have you met your new sister yet?"

"There's a question," said Mjoll. "I hope she stayed inside like I told her to, and didn't run off to play outside with that dog of hers."

"She's in the bedroom," said the man, pointing his spoon across the room at a closed door. "Go say hello."

Alesan turned around and headed towards the bedroom door, trying to count how many new people he'd already met today. He was starting to get a little dizzy, and hoped there weren't very many more of them. It was such a big house. He was sure that anther ten people could sleep in it, probably. For a moment he hesitated with his hand on the door's handle, but there was nothing to be anxious about. Everyone had bee so nice to him, and it would be nice to have a sister. Probably. He pressed down the latch and opened the door.

"Hyaaaa!

Alesan stumbled back and almost tripped. A tiny girl with wild brown hair was waving a wooden sword at him.

"Surrender, brigand! You will never breach Fort Heljarchen!"

"Aaargh!"

He tried stepping backwards carefully until his back hit the big table at the center of the room. The point of her sword was right in his face. True, it was only a wooden practice sword, but for some reason it looked very sharp. He wiped a drop of sweat off his brow.

There was a clattering of pots and pans in the other room before the kitchen door opened again.

"Erith," said the man with the spoon, "are you playing nice?"

From: (Anonymous)

The girl hastily pulled back the sword and hid it behind her back.

"I saw that."

"Sorry, Aerin," said Erith, hanging her head and twiddling her foot. "I'll be good."

"Good," said Aerin. "Now that you've met Alesan, you should know he's come to stay with us. He's going to be your brother from now on."

Erith made a twisty face, and he stuck his tongue out at her.

Aerin tsked. "You two, go outside and play while there's still light. Don't stray too far. If you see the Loreius farm, that's too far. And come right back in if you get too cold. And don't be late for dinner. Go on, now."

Erith nodded earnestly. Then she grabbed Alesan's hand and tugged at it. "Let's go! You haven't even met Torom, yet. He's the best dog in the Pale."

From: (Anonymous)

Ki'shaal often found that people would ask her for little favors, wherever she went. When she first arrived at Skyrim she found this peculiar behavior unsettling, and would keep away from towns and cities, restricting herself as much as possible to the wilderness, where she could gather her alchemy ingredients. This was well enough for a while. It was the Black-Briar girl, curiously enough, who changed her mind on the matter.

Were it not for Ingun's grateful acceptance of a few odd stalks and leaves, she never would have endeavored to approach the citizens in the Riften marketplace and hear their troubles. She never would have listened to Mjoll's story about her fateful journey to Mzinchaleft, and retraced her steps to recover her lost sword. For that, Ki'shaal was more than grateful. She was proud of her work in Riften, and glad to make it her home. When it came to raising a family, though, she wanted to keep her children far, far away from the Guild, the Black-Briars, and all they represented.

Heljarchen was cold, it was true. To her khajiit sensibilities, though, the main difference between it and Lake Honrich was not so great, and Heljarchen was filled with fluffy white snow. Before coming to Skyrim she'd never seen snow anything like it, only hail and sleet and the wet, clumping snow that fell in certain parts of High Rock, where she'd spent many winters previous. The nearby giant encampment had worried her for a time, but if a household with three seasoned warriors living in it couldn't fend off one giant, who could?

These were some of her thoughts as she walked the eastern approach to the homestead, leading her horse by the rein behind her. Business had kept her home for several days and nights, which was longer than she'd expected and hoped. Not that she didn't trust Gregor and Uthgerd to keep everything in fine order, but she had sent an orphan child to live alone in a house full of strangers. She was eager to make certain he was properly settled.

The house had barely come into sight in the distance when she heard an ear-splitting yelp and a small, dense mass hit her around the midsection, nearly toppling her to the ground.

"Ma!"

Ki turned her head, still struggling with the vise grip around her waist, and saw Erith running to catch up on stubby legs with her dog following, barking madly. The girl stopped just short of collision while the dog flopped at her feet, his tongue lolling. Ki'shaal reached over and patted her wind-roughened hair. The boy gripping her waist loosened his hold, still shaking. Both Ki and Erith politely pretended not to notice.

"Are you ready to go back up to the house?" she murmured in his ear. "It will be getting dark soon, and mother is very cold."

He nodded, his face still pressed tightly against her. With one final sniff he let go and, hesitantly, held his hand out to her.

Ki'shaal took his hand and nodded at Erith.

Alesan got the message and held his other hand out to his new sister.

"You have quite the family, Dragonborn," remarked Erandur mildly.

She laughed. "This one will reserve his judgment until after meeting Ki'shaal's wife, hopefully."

"Gladly," said the priest.