Skyrim Page 3 - "Either you're naked, or I'm drunk. Maybe both."

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"Something Like Parents" 1/?

[(Anonymous)]

First off, please excuse my attempted grasp on the Dragon language. I'm working entirely off of the wiki page on it. Bwah. xD
Title: Something Like Parents
Summary: When the Dragonborn stumbles upon three orphaned dragon hatchlings, her emotions get the best of her and she takes them home to Windhelm. But babies are pretty hard to control, especially when they breathe fire and can eat anything placed in front of them. Finn's going to need some help.
Tags: char: f!pc, char: ulfric_stormcloak, race: breton, race: dragon, kink: crack/humor

Finn's work had been thankfully stolen from her that day. Somebody had found the dragon before she stumbled along, it would seem, and the massive corpse was still laying sprawled across the forest floor. As soon as she took a step towards it, however, the skin began to flake and burn away, rewarding the Breton with the familiar aura of the beast's soul. Once it had faded away again, leaving Finn with a rather content feeling in her chest, she could finally hear what she had missed at first glance.

At first, she thought that some especially loud baby birds had been dropped from a tree during the battle. The pitiful squeaking was coming from somewhere behind the fallen dragon's tail, a sad enough sound to make the Dragonborn sheathe her weapon and approach it cautiously. What she found was...admittedly not too far from baby birds. If baby birds grew up to be enormous, fire-breathing bringers of terror.

“Oh, gods,” she murmured, watching as three baby dragons, each no larger than her arm, clambered over each other in a panic. She took a cautious step forward, snapping a twig under her boot, and in an instant all six eyes were focused on her.

“...Monah?”

Finn searched her brain desperately, trying to summon as much as she knew of their language. If she remembered correctly, 'monah' had been the word for...mother...

“Oh! Niid!” she retorted quickly, crouching nervously and watching the dragons swarm towards her. She felt her heart sink a little as the largest of the three clambered up onto her knee, its tail swishing excitedly. Damn it all, why did they have to be cute...the more she looked at them, the more she couldn't help but think that she couldn't leave them behind. Evidently, they were recent orphans, and if they managed to survive, some over-enthusiastic hunter would make quick work of them. She frowned now, reaching out to pat the scaly head of the nearest hatchling as it too climbed up her leg, trying for her shoulder.

You are an amazing fool, Finn, she thought helplessly, holding out her arms. “Het,” she said aloud, nodding down. The babies seemed to understand instantly, and hopped clumsily up to weigh her arms down. Groaning, she forced herself to stand, starting off back the way she came.

She knew exactly who would be able to help her. She'd just have to find the easiest way to smuggle three baby dragons into Windhelm.

Re: "Something Like Parents" 1/? - OP here

[(Anonymous)]

AAAAAH OH MY GOD *flails excitedly*

Dearest A!A, you have only just begun and I already love you. Those baby dragons sound like the cutest, most huggable thing ever - they make me wish I had some of my own. Well, I always wish I had some of my own, but this makes me want it MORE.

I will be waiting eagerly for the next part. <3

Re: "Something Like Parents" 1/?

[(Anonymous)]

Aw, this is too adorable for words. I wonder what she ends up feeding them.

"Something Like Parents" 2/?

[(Anonymous)]

The guards at Windhelm's gates knew Finn well by now. Since the end of the Civil War, she was practically idolized by the city, guards included, and her attempts to speak to them each time she passed won her some points as well. So when she headed up that day, an unusually large crate in her arms, she was greeted as usual.

“Welcome back, Thane Finn. That's quite the package you have there,” one guard observed, leaning back on the wall as the Breton smiled cheerfully at him.

“Well, you know. Spoils from fights and all. What'd I miss?”

“We had a brawl up at Candlehearth. Haven't seen one of those in a while,” the second guard chimed in, listening closely. He could have sworn he had just heard a distinctive thump from inside the crate, but it hadn't sounded again, and the Thane was suddenly speaking particularly loudly.

“No kidding! Anyway, I need to go see the Jarl, so I'll leave you to your duties. Have fun!”

Once she was through the gates, Finn felt the pressure in her chest lighten again, and sighed with relief. The dragons were getting restless. She was just surprised they hadn't burned a hole through the crate yet. Trying to ignore the curious looks from passersby, she hurried to the palace, hoping she hadn't come all this way just to find out he was on another one of his trips to Solitude.

Thankfully, Ulfric Stormcloak was on his throne and consulting his steward when she arrived, crate and all. His lips turned up in a rare smile at her disheveled state, and he rose, coming down to greet her.

“What brings you here, Thane Finn?” he asked, his focus more on the crate. Finn glanced over at the steward, then leaned forward a little.

“I need to talk to you in private,” she whispered. Ulfric nodded, an eyebrow raised, then turned back to the steward in question.

“If we receive visitors, tell them I will only be a moment. Hopefully.” As Jarl and Thane vanished into the privacy of his quarters, the Nord looked down at her, this time openly tapping on the crate. “What is this, Finn?”

“This is what I need to talk to you about. I found...something...while I was out today.” She placed the box on the floor of Ulfric's bedroom and proceeded to pry the lid open, revealing its live, squirming contents. For the first time since meeting him, she saw her Jarl's jaw drop.

“By the gods<\i>, Finn, you brought dragon hatchlings into Windhelm?!” The Breton raised a hand to quiet him, looking at him pleadingly.

“I'm sorry! But their mother was dead and I didn't know who to go to, and you know the language so I thought maybe--”

“Why me, then? You speak to the Greybeards! Why wouldn't you take them up there, instead?”

“I...actually didn't even think of that,” Finn admitted, blushing a little. “Okay, you got me. But please, no matter what I do, you need to help me!” Before she could resort to grovelling, the most social of the three babies climbed out of the crate, its eyes set firmly on Ulfric.

“Bormah!”

“I am nobody's bormah!” Ulfric complained, indignant. Finn stifled a giggle, tilting the crate so that the other two could climb out as well and approach the Nord. “Finn!”

“They like you,” she teased him lightly, sitting cross-legged to watch the interactions. “I couldn't help it. They're a bit...cute, aren't they?”

“'Cute'?” Ulfric echoed, amazed. “They're dragons.” As he continued to lecture her, Finn frowned, the idea suddenly hitting her full force.

“Dragons,” she repeated, nodding. “I need to take them to Paarthurnax.” The name surprised even Ulfric, who looked up at her in disbelief.

“You speak to--” he began, only to go silent. Of course she spoke to him. She was Dragonborn, after all. “Very well. Take them to the Throat of the World.” He had only just moved to stand when Finn leveled him with a hopeful look.

“Will you come with me, my Jarl?” she asked, knowing that the formality might just be enough to convince him. He scoffed, picking up a dragon gingerly and returning it to its box.

“You should know better than that, Finn,” he pointed out, catching onto her game immediately. “Still...yes, I will come with you.”

Re: "Something Like Parents" 2/? (a!anon)

[(Anonymous)]

UGH, epic formatting fail. -groans-
Still, I hope you like it, OP. Next part will be up soon, hopefully without italics!

Re: "Something Like Parents" 2/? (a!anon)

[(Anonymous)]

Not OP, but I'm squeeing at the thought of Paarthurnax and little dragons! He already gives me the grandfather figure vibes.

Re: "Something Like Parents" 2/? (a!anon)

[(Anonymous)]

"I am nobody's bormah!"
I squeed. Really.
And Paarthurnax + 3 clumsy, cute baby dragons, all with a little Ulfric and an amusing DB? Sounds like a good time.
I wonder what Alduin would do if he knew.

Re: "Something Like Parents" 2/? (a!anon)

[(Anonymous)]

Alduin would totally be the grumpy uncle, of course! :D

Re: "Something Like Parents" 2/? - OP

[(Anonymous)]

*flails and squees*

A!A, this is perfect in every possible way and I love it to little itty bitty pieces. Please excuse me while I shamelessly fangirl over both you AND the fill. <3

"Something Like Parents" 3/?

[(Anonymous)]

“Is it time to switch?” Finn asked, sheathing her sword and looking triumphantly down at the slain Sabre cat . Behind her, Ulfric nodded curtly, less than thrilled with the three heavy hatchlings perched on his shoulders and arms. Since the climb had begun, the two had traded off between fighting any threats and carrying the dragons. Finn had been the one to suggest it, naturally. As the Breton took her hatchlings back, beaming all the while, the Jarl shook his head yet again. This turn of events had yet to stop amazing him.

“I haven't made this climb in years,” he reminisced now as they set off again, the cold winds starting to batter them and hinting that they were getting closer to the top. “Decades, even. I imagine the Greybeards have hardly changed, no matter how long it's been. I wonder...” He trailed off, and Finn glanced up at him, though he had his back to her. From what she had heard, his training with the Greybeards hadn't ended on the friendliest of notes, and his voice had taken on a more nostalgic, even wistful tone. It wasn't like him. She frowned a little, watching for something that would give away his emotions for once, but he simply drew his blade again, his eyes on a pair of Frostbite spiders just ahead.

“Norok bormah,” one of the hatchlings remarked from atop Finn's head. The Breton had to pause again, the language still not entirely fluid in her mind.

“Geh, rinik krilot,” she eventually came up with. “Nuz voth pogaas rahgol--”

“You realize I know what you're saying, Finn,” Ulfric called over his shoulder, starting up the mountain once more. Finn smiled to herself, hurrying to catch up with him while balancing the dragons.

“I'm just entertaining them, you know,” she remarked. “I didn't see you talking to them when it was your turn.”

The Throat of the World was bitterly cold, and the winds were enough to stagger the little band of travelers. A quick Clear Skies shout fixed this right up, leaving Finn to take a better look around.

“Paarthurnax?” she called out, her gaze up at the sky. His perch was empty, and there was no responding roar... “...Damn it.” Of course. He had warned her that he'd be moving around a bit these days, and that he wouldn't be able to tell her when he would and wouldn't be at his regular spot atop the mountain. She hadn't considered that when the idea had come to her, naturally. Her feet quite literally throbbing with pain, she took a seat on a nearby rock, letting the hatchlings dart around on the ground as she let herself pout for a moment. For lack of a better idea, Ulfric took a seat beside her, watching her despair silently.

“...You're ridiculous,” he said bluntly. Finn nodded silently, watching the closest dragon emit a slight puff of frost from its throat before looking confusedly back up at her. “If you insist on keeping this up, I'll take you to the Greybeards.” He regretted it instantly-- the Greybeards would be less than pleased to see him after all this time-- but the Breton's face instantly lit up, and she unwittingly threw her arms around the Jarl of Windhelm and victor of Skyrim's civil war.

“You're nicer than you let on!” Finn said triumphantly, beaming. Of course, she did blush when she realized what she was doing, but simply pulled away and grinned nonchalantly, standing again and looking down at the dragons. “Tiid wah daal, dovahkiir!” As they started off again, Ulfric forced himself to stand once more, humming thoughtfully in response to their interaction.

She had an outstanding grasp on the language, he thought decisively.

Re: "Something Like Parents" 3/?

[(Anonymous)]

Dragon tongue Grammar Nazi here with one little nitpick.

It should be "Bormahu Norok" (Our father [is] fierce[est]!), not Norok Bormah (Fierce[est] Father)

OH! And it should be Dovahkirre, not Dovahkiir (the extra Re indicates plural).

I only say this because I've filled a couple of prompts that wanted dragon language as a large part and my Inner grammarian demanded I learn the language as perfectly as I could.


Other than that, Great (and correct) usage of the Dov-Tinvaak. And Cute fill, as well!

Re: "Something Like Parents" 3/?

[(Anonymous)]

Ah, thanks! I've been working off of the ES Wiki page for the language, so my grasp on it is...less than what I'd like it to be. ^_^;; So I appreciate any help!

Re: "Something Like Parents" 3/?

[(Anonymous)]

happy to help, A!A. it's a fascinating language to learn.

Re: "Something Like Parents" 3/? - OP

[(Anonymous)]

omgomg A!A I've been sick all weekend and seeing you had updated made me squeal and flail like a little pig and I felt so much better all of a sudden. SO. THANK YOU SO MUCH asdfgs <3333

Re: "Something Like Parents" 3/? - OP

[(Anonymous)]

This is so cute! Please continue A!A!!!

"Something Like Parents" 4/?

[(Anonymous)]

High Hrothgar looked just as it had when Ulfric had left. He stood in silence on the steps for a moment, his eyes on the fort before him and the memories returning. Beside him, Finn watched warily, wondering what exactly those memories were, and crouched to let her triplets down into the snow.

“I need to go inside,” she told her companion, wringing her hands a little. “Would you...wait out here, with these ones?”

“That would probably be best,” the Jarl agreed, taking a seat on the cold stone steps. Finn smiled now, almost sadly, and gave him one more look before vanishing through the large doors. In the silence that she left behind, he looked down at the dragons, watching them fall over each other in their play. For whatever reason, Finn's complaint about his lack of talking came to mind, and the words he remembered so well followed.

“Drem yol lok, dovahkirre,” he offered. The hatchlings looked amongst themselves for a moment, before the most outgoing of the three approached him slowly, a glint in its small eyes.

“Drem yol lok, bormah. Monah los gut?”

“Niid,” Ulfric insisted, pointing back at the fortress behind them. “Monah los tinvaak voth Faal Onik Muz.” The hatchling seemed satisfied with this, and took a seat on the step beside him. The Jarl sighed a little, holding out a hand tentatively and watching as the dragon eyed it just as curiously. Maybe Finn wasn't entirely crazy for finding these little beasts endearing...or maybe he was just as crazy.

Before he could think about it more, a set of small teeth clamped down on his finger.

“Master Arngeir,” Finn greeted the elderly man as she approached his favorite stone chair. The Greybeard looked up from his book, nodding his own greeting as the Breton came out of the shadows.

“What brings you here, Dovahkiin?” he asked, closing the book gently. Finn sighed, not even sure where to begin.

“I may as well just put it simply,” she decided aloud. “I came across a dead dragon on my travels, as well as three live hatchlings. I've...taken them in, it's safe to say. I've come to ask for help.” Arngeir raised an eyebrow, rising from his chair.

“You plan to raise dragons?” he echoed, frowning. “I have seen this tried by some in the past, but few dare to even spare a young dragon their blade, let alone adopt them.” He paused, turning away and thinking for a moment. “Where are these hatchlings?”

“Outside,” Finn replied, deciding that it would be best to keep Ulfric's identity quiet for the time being. Arngeir shook his head, sighing.

“Hm. Dovahkiin, I have never doubted the quality of your character. You have a strong heart, that much is more than clear. But to try and take on such a task would have you struggling more than you can imagine. I'd recommend taking them to Paarthurnax, but we have already sensed that he is...away. With that in mind, Odahviing may be considered as an option, now that he has sworn his loyalty to you.” Finn bowed her head, her fists clenched at her sides as she let the words sink in.

“I...I have nothing but respect for your advice, Master Arngeir,” she replied, a sharp undertone to her voice, “but I know that I can do this. I have all the help I need, as a matter of fact.” When the Greybeard remained silent, she turned away, trying to make her small frame larger as she walked away again. “That's all, then.”

“Gods be with you, Dovahkiin,” she heard him murmur to her back.

Re: "Something Like Parents" 4/?

[(Anonymous)]

These little dragonlings are way too cute! I love the idea of Ulfric playing Daddy to them. This is a lovely. I'm enjoying this so much. Please continue!

Re: "Something Like Parents" 4/?

[(Anonymous)]

Before he could think about it more, a set of small teeth clamped down on his finger.

Not so endearing any more, are they? I hope he didn't lose the finger!

Should I be worried that I didn't need to go look up the dragon language? Probably.

"Something Like Parents" 5/?

[(Anonymous)]

“Niid! Niid!”

When Finn began down the steps again, she found herself watching Ulfric Stormcloak hopping around on one foot. She blinked, rubbing her eyes, and smiled broadly as their hatchlings nipped playfully at his other ankle. This was the Jarl of Windhelm, the possible High King of Skyrim, and here he was, jumping around like a child and actually smiling for once. Finn stayed put for a few moments, enchanted by the sight until the dragons caught sight of her and half-flew to her side, calling for her in their high, raspy voices.

“Drem yol lok!” she said cheerfully, crouching to scoop them up as Ulfric followed behind, straightening out his coat. “I knew you'd like them.”

“Hm,” he replied dismissively, his focus intently on the wall behind her. “What did the Greybeards have to say?”

“Exactly what I thought they would. We should get going, if we want to get off this mountain before sunset.” As she traipsed off through the snow again, she grinned over her shoulder. “I hope you have a bit of extra space in that palace of yours!” Ulfric sighed, following close behind and watching the hatchlings warily.

“What am I going to do with you...?”

Ulfric still couldn't believe that he had actually been convinced to set a room aside in his own palace for three fire-breathing dragons. Yet here he was, tossing a few old blankets from the stables over a pile of hay and trying to ignore Finn's distaste for it.

“The Jarl doesn't have anything better than that?” she complained, patting the blankets. “They're rough! I hear this place is full of furs.”

“Furs are expensive, Finn,” Ulfric shot back, laying a palm on the shorter girl's head. “If you want them to have furs, use the ones from your bed.” The Breton shrugged, taking a seat and pulling the nearest dragon up into her lap. Now that she had become an impromptu mother, she was planning on staying in Windhelm, which meant she would be making use of that warm guest room she liked so much. She hated to admit it, but he was right.

“We should name them,” she said, willing to change the subject. Ulfric allowed himself a small smile, holding out his hand to her instead.

“What we should do is sleep. You look especially exhausted,” he informed her, helping her to her feet. Finn nodded in agreement, reluctant all the same, and looked down at the three dragons.

“I just hope they don't get nervous during the night. Gods know what they'll do,” she sighed. “Pruzah vulon, dovahkirre.” Once they had locked the door, she looked almost worriedly up at her Jarl. “Well...good night.” Ulfric's lips tightened a bit at her response, and he laid a hand on her shoulder, hoping to silence her fears.

“It's going to be fine. You know that,” he said, surprisingly soothingly. Finn smiled weakly, nodding.

“I hope so.” On that note, she wriggled out from his grasp and breezed by, vanishing up the stairs and leaving the Stormcloak to think in her wake.

"Something Like Parents" 19/?

[(Anonymous)]

“You're really going then, are you?” Ulfric asked from the doorway, watching as Finn bustled around with large loads of hay. On the other side of the room, three large crates sat in a line, filled with hay and food enough to last three days. The dragons' mother knew better this time; they would be going by carriage. The Breton looked up from her work, motioning for him to join them in the room.

“It seems that way,” she replied with a sad smile. She had tried her best to explain what was happening to the hatchlings, with mixed results—Gaafyahzin in particular was distraught at leaving Windhelm, but Inkahlok seemed to think that they were going on an adventure. At the moment, they were swarming around Ulfric's legs, chattering up at him.

“Are you coming too, bormah?” Sulpaazov asked over the noise. Ulfric crouched to pick her up, surprised to find that he had to strain to do so.

“I'm afraid not, brit gein,” he replied, looking at Finn as he spoke. “I have work that can't be left behind.” Finn nodded in silent understanding.

“We'll be back,” she declared, both to the Jarl and the dragons. “This isn't goodbye, so don't be sad. You'll all see bormah again soon enough.” She crossed the room now, prying Inkahlok off of his foot and scooping him into her arms. “Ah, my kril kul, you've gotten heavy.” Inkahlok clambered to his perch on her shoulder all the same, his tail looping around her neck.

“Monah, you know I do not like the crate,” he complained. “Three days?”

“Three days,” she affirmed apologetically. “You'll be fine, my dear.” She lowered him back to the ground and motioned for her other two to come closer. “But it will be a long journey, and not very comfortable. You need your rest. You'll see bormah in the morning, before we leave.”

“Geh, monah,” the hatchlings responded, returning to their small nests and chattering to each other in Dovah as they curled up for sleep. Ulfric nodded at Finn, and the two left the room.

“You've gotten worse at pretending that things don't upset you,” the Breton teased him as she locked the door. “You know we have no other choice.”

“I do know that,” Ulfric agreed, “but that doesn't mean I have to like it. I need to be there, helping you.”

“You're still the Jarl. Your place is here, watching over your people.”

“I know that as well, Finn.” The Nord's shoulders slumped, and he shook his head. “Why Darkwater Crossing? You couldn't have picked anywhere closer, anywhere I can walk to?”

“I can trust Derkeethus,” Finn replied bluntly. “And Darkwater Crossing is an open space, with plenty of room for hatchlings. Plus, it's far from the cities. It was the safest option, Ulfric.” She smiled weakly, moving to place a hand on his arm. “I don't like it any more than you do.” Ulfric sighed.

“At least you understand that I don't like it,” he muttered. The Breton moved closer now and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head against his chest.

“I wasn't lying to them. You'll see them again, before they leave. And I'll visit, if I can. I'll figure something out,” she assured him. Ulfric returned the embrace, his eyes closed.

“Of course you will,” he replied. “It's what you're best at.” He felt Finn laugh quietly, and she pushed herself up to kiss him gently.

“Ah, I'm going to miss you,” she sighed. “Derkeethus has a nice house, but the bed he's giving me isn't nearly as comfortable as yours. Not to mention, he won't be sharing it,” she added, noting the Nord's reproachful look. “Did you really need me to say that?”

“It's always nice to hear,” Ulfric grumbled, rubbing the top of her head affectionately all the same. “Shouldn't you get some sleep, too? It's your journey.” Finn grinned up at him now, reaching for his hand with both of hers.

“I don't know. Like I said, I'm going to miss that comfortable bed of yours. Shouldn't you give me a nice memory of it before I go?” Ulfric rolled his eyes, letting her pull him towards the bedroom.

“You've gotten just as bold as those dragons have.”

"Something Like Parents" 20/?

[(Anonymous)]

By the time the sun rose over the stables, Finn and Ulfric were already by the carriage, hoisting the third crate up onto it. The driver looked over his shoulder curiously, watching even the stronger Nord struggle a bit with the box.

“Mind if I ask what it is you’re taking, ma’am?” he asked cautiously. Finn merely smiled and wiped her brow, her face flushed with the effort.

“Precious cargo,” she replied innocently. “Precious cargo that I’m paying you extra to carry, as you might remember.” The driver took the hint and turned away again, though not without an annoyed huff.

“Well, I can’t wait here forever, and the roads won’t get any clearer,” he replied bluntly. The Breton nodded, turning back to the Jarl.

“He’s right,” she admitted, pulling her cloak closely around her. “I suppose we should be going.” Ulfric nodded, his mind racing with a thousand things to say in response. He settled for pulling her in and giving her a light squeeze.

“Stay safe out there,” he murmured into her hair. Finn nodded, taking in his warmth for a blissful moment before pulling free again.

“And you hold things down for me here, alright?” she replied gently, pulling herself up into the carriage. “I’ll see you soon…my Jarl,” she added after a moment of hesitation. As the horse lifted its head and pulled them down the road, Ulfric stood in silence, hardly feeling the cold as he watched the carriage disappear.

Hrefna was stoking the campfire with a twisted stick when the carriage arrived in Darkwater Crossing. Remembering what her Argonian friend had told her, she hurried to his house, calling to him as she pounded on the door.

“Derkeethus! Your friend is here!” The miner opened the door quickly, watching as his short friend clambered from the cart and tossed the driver a tip. He crossed the path hurriedly, the girl at his heels, and waved a greeting to Finn.

“Did you have a good journey?” he asked, helping her ease the crates onto the ground.

“As good as I expected,” Finn replied quietly, smiling from under her hood. “Sorry to wake you up.”

“I was awake,” Derkeethus assured her. Hrefna peered around his legs, eying the crates with excitement.

“What’s in there?” she asked curiously. Finn dropped to a knee so that they were eye-to-eye, and held out her hand.

“It’s a secret,” she replied teasingly. “But if you’re good, you might be allowed to know. Derkeethus never told me he had such a bright little friend! What’s your name?”

“Hrefna,” the girl replied cheerfully, grabbing Finn’s hand with both of hers. “I know your name, it’s Finn! Derkeethus says you’re very brave.” The Breton looked up at her friend and rolled her eyes affectionately at him.

“He would think that, wouldn’t he? Well, I think he’s brave too, in his own way.”

“Why are you talking about me like I’m not here?” the Argonian complained, crouching to pick up one of the crates. “I’ll start taking these in, Finn.” As he started back towards the house, he heard an audible thump from inside the box, and felt himself shiver. Finn heard it too, and rose to her feet quickly, grabbing another crate as she spoke.

“Well, it’s late, I think. The moons are high in the sky,” she said. “So, I’ll see you again in the morning, right, Hrefna?” The girl nodded enthusiastically and started back to her house, calling her goodnights over her shoulder as she went.

When the three crates were inside, Finn immediately set to work prying them open, only to get barreled over by her hatchlings. Derkeethus took a step back at the sight of them. He had tried to make his peace at the possibility of these dragons, but the sight of them made it all too real.

“Who is this one?” Sulpaazov asked, making her way over to the Argonian. “Kopraan se zeymah.”

“Niid, Sulpaazov,” Finn replied cheerfully. “He is a friend of ours, though. This is home, for now.” Derkeethus stared, the strange words leaving his friend’s mouth catching him off-guard all over again. He sighed resignedly, taking a seat and reaching cautiously to rub the dragon’s head.

“Your name is…Sulpaazov?” he tried, the syllables feeling strange on his tongue. The hatchling looked up at him curiously.

“Geh, that is correct,” she replied. The Argonian looked up at Finn, slightly amused.

“It’s nice to meet you, then.”

Re: "Something Like Parents" 20/?

[(Anonymous)]

I love how you are continuing this. Finn has more self control than I would have in her situation- sleeping with Ulfric and *just* sleeping. Yeah, no, I don't think so. lol!

I'm curious to see what the little Dragons think of meeting an Argonian. Will think have a different reaction to him because he's not a mammal? Or is he just another 'human' like Mom and Dad? Oh, and the poor babies are going to miss their Bormah, you just know it.

Thanks so much for keeping this going. It's really delightful!

Re: "Something Like Parents" 21/?

[(Anonymous)]

The daily routine of Darkwater Crossing was certainly much simpler than that of Windhelm. As weeks passed and Finn settled in, she found that she didn't mind it in the slightest.

On the first night, she had set a bale of hay at the foot of her bed, in an attempt to make her dragons feel at home. It had taken ten minutes before Inkahlok had torn the bale to shreds, and the three had made themselves comfortable at her side. Even as they grew, the Breton managed to get used to sharing her bed with them, and almost found it comforting to listen to them snore quietly.

To her surprise, the miners had taken the presence of her hatchlings in stride. She supposed Derkeethus had something to do with that. Still, it wound up being a blessing—the Argonian's shack was much smaller than the Palace of the Kings, to say the least, and the dragons would quickly grow restless if they were barricaded. Of course, there was wariness at the sight of them. Tormir looked perpetually uncomfortable when Finn took them out to the river, and Verner warned her often to keep them hidden if the guards came by.

Then there was Hrefna. The sweet little girl had taken a shine to the dragons from the moment she laid eyes on them, and was often asking to help feed them or play with them. Their mother allowed it cautiously, knowing well what Tormir would do to her if the child ended up hurt. Fortunately, it seemed that her hatchlings liked her almost as much. Gaafyahzin in particular seemed almost to guard her, and Finn could swear that she heard him purring when the girl stroked his wings.

Yet, still they grew. Finn had become painfully aware of this when Sulpaazov and Inkahlok tried to land on her shoulders simultaneously. The weight had finally become too much to bear, and she had been forced to her knees. Relatively, they were still smaller than bears, but not by much, and she could still carry them one at a time. But even her largest crates were too small for them, and she finally gave in and let the dragons gleefully destroy them.

Finn herself had unwittingly become a runner for the miners. First and foremost, she was a guardian to the dragons, which prevented her from spending time in the mines. It didn't stop her from helping Hrefna cook, or from taking care of small tasks around the town when her new friends needed it. The hatchlings, apparently inspired by her new role, would go off to hunt, their wings growing stronger and carrying them through the woods. They would return to the fire pit with rabbits and foxes at first, before moving on to deer. It was only when Sulpaazov returned with a wolf that the Breton was surprised, though she thanked her daughter for the pelt.

But it just hinted at the larger picture, one that Finn had tried her best to ignore. She was happy at Darkwater Crossing, as were her dragons, but everybody involved knew that it couldn't be a permanent deal. They were growing, and their prey was getting stronger with them. The day would come where they would carry home deer, then elk, then bears and sabre cats.

The day would come when they would have to fly to Valenwood. But for now, she could allow herself the joys of this simple life.

Re: "Something Like Parents" 21/?

[(Anonymous)]

I love this story, but I bet I'm going to need a whole box of Kleenex before it's finished.

Thank you, WriteAnon!

"Something Like Parents" 22/?

[(Anonymous)]

Derkeethus was pleased to see a setting sun when he stepped back out of the mines. He had worked especially hard, at the cost of not seeing the outside world since morning. Yawning widely, the Argonian strode towards the river, hoping to cool off before nightfall. To his surprise, he found the river already occupied.

Now, Derkeethus knew quite a few Argonians who had an unexplainable preference for smooth skin and soft hair. Personally, he preferred multicolored feathers and bright blue scales, but he wouldn't blame them in any case. Still, when he found Finn bathing, her clothes hanging from a nearby branch, he couldn't help but be a bit flustered. Before he could retreat, Inkahlok noticed him from the rock he was sunbathing on, and perked up.

“Drem yol lok, friend,” he called, stretching his wings. Finn looked over from her spot in the water, and beamed at the sight of her housemate.

“Ah, Derkeethus! Are you here to bathe, too?” she called. “Come on, join us!” Derkeethus blinked, surprised at her nonchalance, but hesitantly pulled his own tunic over his head.

“I-I didn't mean to intrude,” he offered apologetically, sinking into the river beside his friend. The girl shook her head.

“Not at all. I don't mind. My sisters and I used to bathe like this,” she recollected, lounging against the riverbank and sticking her toes out of the water. “It was always fun.” She was interrupted by Gaafyahzin soaring from a nearby tree and landing with a clumsy splash in front of them. “Kiir! Be careful!” The dragon resurfaced, obviously not used to swimming, and flailed his way back to shore. Finn smiled nervously, running a hand through her wet hair.

“They've gotten even more adventurous,” the Argonian remarked, reaching out to rub Inkahlok's head as he drew near. “Bigger, too.” As Finn had predicted, they had finally grown larger than the bears that prowled the nearby forest, and were able to launch attacks on said beasts without fear. The Breton nodded in agreement, looking up as Sulpaazov returned from the bushes with a fox in her jaws.

“They've certainly gotten strong,” she said, her voice tinged with pride. “They're good hunters, too. Gaafyahzin brought back a full-grown moose the other day.” From his spot under a tree, Gaafyahzin lifted his head at the sound of his name, before returning to his nap. Derkeethus tried to imagine the most generally placid of the three taking down a moose, to no avail.

“How long do you think it'll be before they're fully grown?” he asked. Finn lowered her eyes thoughtfully, her smile faded.

“I've heard that dragons grow quickly, and they certainly are...I think it'll still be a few months before they're as large as adults, but I doubt...I doubt I'll be able to see it,” she explained. Derkeethus softened.

“You're worried.”

“You've heard the story, Derkeethus.” The dragons' mother looked up again, trying her best not to look openly gloomy. “I've known them since they were newly hatched, before they could even fly. They've thought of me as their mother for just as long. I know every mother eventually has to let her children go free, but...I dread the day.” She let her eyes close, and shook her head. “I think I'll know when the day comes that they're able to fly to Valenwood, and I dread waking up to that realization.” In the silence that followed, Sulpaazov approached the water for a drink, and eyed her mother with a hint of contemplation.

“Monah,” she murmured, nuzzling the Breton's bare shoulder for a moment. The small gesture was enough for Derkeethus to feel a pull in his heart, and he watched his friend stroke the dragon's face with a comparatively small hand.

“It's hard to think about, I know,” he finally said. “I can't even imagine how quiet it'll be. But...we're enjoying ourselves for the moment, aren't we? I know it's a tired thing to say, but...really, all that either of us can do is enjoy the present.” When Finn remained silent, he slid over to wrap his arms around her. “Come on, Finn. I don't like seeing you so down.” Now he felt the Breton laugh quietly, and she squirmed to look up at him.

“Have you forgotten that my clothes are over there?” Her laughter only grew louder when Derkeethus let go, shoving his hands in the water and mumbling his apologies.