The crate that Finn toted was much larger than the last one. Her hatchlings had finally outgrown their original box, and Inkahlok had expressed as much by glaring at it and promptly setting it on fire with a sharp yol. It was obvious that he didn't like the new crate much more, but enough admonishing from his Breton mother had convinced him to tolerate it as they headed out into the main hall.
“I'm taking them out to the field again,” she announced when she had approached the throne. Her face was flushed with the effort of carrying the heavy box, but she grinned all the same. “Would you like to come with me?”
“You know I'm meant to stay here,” Ulfric reminded her. The Breton smirked now, glancing around the room with feigned confusion.
“And do what? The only person I've seen here all day is Sifnar.” At the sound of his name, the cook looked up from where he was setting the long table, and grinned bemusedly at Finn. Ulfric rose from his throne, shaking his head with a light smile.
“You're out to get me in trouble, aren't you?” he asked, following her towards the doors. Finn beamed.
“Only on good days.”
A light snow was falling over the field as usual, but the dragons seemed thrilled to be outdoors again. Inkahlok was out of the crate almost immediately, stretching his wings and burying his nose in a small snowdrift.
“Cold,” he mumbled, proud of his favorite Common word. Finn nodded, packing a snowball and showing it to him.
“Dahmaan?” she asked, only for her hatchling to hiss in what Ulfric assumed was delight. The mother tossed the snowball in the air, and Inkahlok leaped forward, mouth open.
“Iiz!”
The snowball landed on the ground again as a solid hunk of ice, and Inkahlok eyed it proudly. Finn turned back to the Jarl, her cheeks reddened by the cold.
“Watch this,” she announced, clasping her hands together. “Bo!” Sulpaazov responded immediately, spreading her wings and taking off across the field. Inkahlok took a bit longer, flapping his wings wildly before he was comfortable enough to follow his sister. Only Gaafyahzin remained, watching the two dragons fly farther away. Ulfric crouched at his side, curious.
“Lost faas, Gaafyahzin?” he asked.
“Niid!” the hatchling replied. “Nis bo. Ni mul.” The Nord scooped him into his arms, holding him above the ground.
“Folaas. Kulsezu los krilot,” he assured him, before pausing. “You are brave, Gaafyahzin.” The dragon tilted his head at him, before cautiously loosening his wings and scrambling from his father's arms. He dropped at first, his wings straining as they beat against his sides. Finn turned to watch, her eyes widening as the little dragon finally took flight, hurrying to join his siblings where they circled each other in the air.
“Wow...” she said softly, entranced by the sight of the hatchlings in the sky. It almost looked like a dance, the way they would dive and regain themselves long enough. Occasionally they would shoot a burst of fire or frost at each other, a playful warning not to get in the other's way. But the fact that they could keep airborne now, for more than just a few minutes, was success enough for her.
They're growing up, she thought, smiling sadly as she watched. This meant they were a step closer to being able to make the journey with Paarthurnax, but it also meant that they were getting stronger. It was a bittersweet feeling.
Ulfric approached her cautiously, noting the slight mist in her eyes. The shorter girl looked up at him, her smile broadening, and snuggled against his side in a surprising burst of affection. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and they watched in comfortable silence until the hatchlings grew tired and returned.
“Home now, monah,” Gaafyahzin declared, resting his head on Finn's snowy feet. The Breton laughed, crouching to stroke the dragon's head.
“Geh. Time to get some sleep, hm?” she asked, going to retrieve the crate. Inkahlok snorted his disapproval at being boxed again, but followed his siblings nonetheless. Ulfric followed as well, this time picking up the crate himself when the dragons were safely inside. Finn raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't complain as they started back across the now-dark field.
“Well. Aren't you the gentleman,” she simply teased.
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timeasmymeasure
"Something Like Parents" 14/?
Date: 2013-05-12 02:59 am (UTC)“I'm taking them out to the field again,” she announced when she had approached the throne. Her face was flushed with the effort of carrying the heavy box, but she grinned all the same. “Would you like to come with me?”
“You know I'm meant to stay here,” Ulfric reminded her. The Breton smirked now, glancing around the room with feigned confusion.
“And do what? The only person I've seen here all day is Sifnar.” At the sound of his name, the cook looked up from where he was setting the long table, and grinned bemusedly at Finn. Ulfric rose from his throne, shaking his head with a light smile.
“You're out to get me in trouble, aren't you?” he asked, following her towards the doors. Finn beamed.
“Only on good days.”
A light snow was falling over the field as usual, but the dragons seemed thrilled to be outdoors again. Inkahlok was out of the crate almost immediately, stretching his wings and burying his nose in a small snowdrift.
“Cold,” he mumbled, proud of his favorite Common word. Finn nodded, packing a snowball and showing it to him.
“Dahmaan?” she asked, only for her hatchling to hiss in what Ulfric assumed was delight. The mother tossed the snowball in the air, and Inkahlok leaped forward, mouth open.
“Iiz!”
The snowball landed on the ground again as a solid hunk of ice, and Inkahlok eyed it proudly. Finn turned back to the Jarl, her cheeks reddened by the cold.
“Watch this,” she announced, clasping her hands together. “Bo!” Sulpaazov responded immediately, spreading her wings and taking off across the field. Inkahlok took a bit longer, flapping his wings wildly before he was comfortable enough to follow his sister. Only Gaafyahzin remained, watching the two dragons fly farther away. Ulfric crouched at his side, curious.
“Lost faas, Gaafyahzin?” he asked.
“Niid!” the hatchling replied. “Nis bo. Ni mul.” The Nord scooped him into his arms, holding him above the ground.
“Folaas. Kulsezu los krilot,” he assured him, before pausing. “You are brave, Gaafyahzin.” The dragon tilted his head at him, before cautiously loosening his wings and scrambling from his father's arms. He dropped at first, his wings straining as they beat against his sides. Finn turned to watch, her eyes widening as the little dragon finally took flight, hurrying to join his siblings where they circled each other in the air.
“Wow...” she said softly, entranced by the sight of the hatchlings in the sky. It almost looked like a dance, the way they would dive and regain themselves long enough. Occasionally they would shoot a burst of fire or frost at each other, a playful warning not to get in the other's way. But the fact that they could keep airborne now, for more than just a few minutes, was success enough for her.
They're growing up, she thought, smiling sadly as she watched. This meant they were a step closer to being able to make the journey with Paarthurnax, but it also meant that they were getting stronger. It was a bittersweet feeling.
Ulfric approached her cautiously, noting the slight mist in her eyes. The shorter girl looked up at him, her smile broadening, and snuggled against his side in a surprising burst of affection. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and they watched in comfortable silence until the hatchlings grew tired and returned.
“Home now, monah,” Gaafyahzin declared, resting his head on Finn's snowy feet. The Breton laughed, crouching to stroke the dragon's head.
“Geh. Time to get some sleep, hm?” she asked, going to retrieve the crate. Inkahlok snorted his disapproval at being boxed again, but followed his siblings nonetheless. Ulfric followed as well, this time picking up the crate himself when the dragons were safely inside. Finn raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't complain as they started back across the now-dark field.
“Well. Aren't you the gentleman,” she simply teased.