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

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“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.

aaaaah a!a this is still as adorable as ever. maybe even more so. but still. ADORABLE. <3333

can't wait to see what happens next!! :3

By the time Ulfric had awakened and headed down the hall to wake Finn, she had been awake for two hours. He found her in the kitchen instead, hauling an entire roasted goat onto the floor and smiling broadly as the hatchlings set to work on it.

“...Good morning,” the Jarl said, his eyes widening as the largest of the three ripped an entire leg off of the goat and swallowed it whole. Finn smiled up at him, pointing down as they continued to feast ravenously.

“Good morning! I can only imagine how hungry these ones are. We didn't feed them last night,” she observed, taking a seat on the floor and watching them continue to make work of the roast. Ulfric approached cautiously, opting to stand behind the Breton instead, and crossed his arms.

“Finn, what do you expect to do with these dragons?” he asked. The question had been eating at him since she had arrived with that damn crate, but the time never had seemed quite right to ask. The Dragonborn seemed to have no problem answering it, however.

“Hm? Well, I'm going to train them. Since they're young, I figure I can probably give them commands the way one would with a dog or a horse. But I also want to teach them Common. Paarthurnax speaks it, so it's not impossible,” she added, noting her Jarl's skeptical expression. “And then, most importantly...I want to name them!”

“Name them?” Ulfric echoed, suppressing an eyeroll. Leave it to Finn to have her priorities so skewed. Nonetheless, she stood again, grabbing a second roasted goat and tossing it to the hatchlings, who continued to eat as if they had never done so before.

“Yes, Ulfric. We can't just call them Dragon One, Two and Three, can we?” Before Ulfric could reply, she pointed at the slightly lighter of the three, who was gnawing on the back of the goat. “That one's female, so I was thinking something a bit more peaceful than her brothers. I came up with 'Sulpaazov'-- Sun, Fair, Trust. What do you think?” Ulfric frowned, giving Sulpaazov another dubious look.

“How do you know their genders?” he asked, honestly confused by the entire matter. Finn shrugged, gesturing at the smaller horns that adorned the dragon's head.

“Female dragons have smaller horns, and more of them,” she explained, before pointing at the remaining two. “Do you have any ideas, by chance?” Ulfric would never want to admit it, of course, but his focus was on the largest of the group, the more sociable, and the reason his fingers were bandaged at the very moment. He knelt beside him, laying a hand on a scaly back and earning a curious look from the hatchling before he looked up at Finn again.

“Inkahlok,” he said simply, gesturing at the hatchling. “Master, Pride, Sky.” The Breton blinked, surprised, but only beamed with delight.

“You wanted to do this, didn't you?” she said excitedly, reaching down to pat the dragon as well. “Inkahlok. Fine by me.” They turned in unison to the only unnamed of the three, a smaller, shyer male who had taken a large chunk of meat as his own. “What about him?” She took a seat again, scooping the hatchling into her arms and holding him up to look at him. “I think he's honorable. We should have honor in the name.”

“If that's what you think,” Ulfric replied, squinting a little to look for the honor in the dragon's face. “Do you know what Gaafyahzin means, Finn?” The Breton looked up at him, a smile dawning on her face.

“Ghost, Seek, Honor,” she recited slowly, letting each syllable roll off her tongue in both languages. “Gaafyahzin. I like it.” She stood again, leaving Gaafyahzin to his meal and looking proudly up at her Jarl. “You're good at this, bormah.”

“Oh, quiet,” Ulfric said, fighting a smile as he looked down at the hatchlings again. “Finn?”

“Hm?”

“You realize you have to teach them their names now, right?” His thane looked down as well, crossing her arms and biting her lip as she considered this.

“...Damn it.” Now her companion smiled openly, raising an eyebrow at her.

“I'm sure you can handle it...monah-se-dovahhe.”

I'm having a lot of baby dragon feels.

Oh gods, update soon!

Right. Where can I get a baby dragon? This delightful fic has made me want one. Or three.

*op squeals with delight and proceeds to fangirl over this AMAZING fill for an hour or three.* aaAAAhh i just can't deal with how precious and perfect this fill is, a!a. you're the best. ;v;

“My Jarl, I must ask you something.”

Ulfric looked up from his throne, raising an eyebrow at his steward. Jorleif had been stubbornly silent for a while now, his brow furrowed as if something was troubling him, but it wasn't too often that he expressed his problems to his employer as openly as he was about to.

“Yes?” the Jarl asked, his deep voice almost frightening Jorleif back into silence. No, no, he had come this far...

“I've been hearing some...strange things from inside the storage room as of late.” To his surprise, Ulfric sat up straighter, the look in his eyes changing instantly as he continued on. “It started around the same time Thane Finn returned from...wherever she disappears to. When she came back with that crate?” Ulfric nodded wordlessly, looking back down and thinking quickly as Jorleif continued. “My Jarl, if she's brought something back, it's in everyone's best interest that you don't hide it. She's--”

“Don't worry about it, Jorleif,” Ulfric interrupted, raising a hand to silence him. “Finn knows what she's doing, and so do I. If trouble arises, you will be the first to know. Trust me.” With that, he stood, moving down the steps from his throne and towards the living quarters. “Is that all, then?”

“...Yes, my Jarl,” Jorleif answered reluctantly, lips tightening as he watched Ulfric disappear through the adjacent doorway. Something about his behavior recently just didn't sit right with him. And knowing that Breton was the one with such a hold over him just made things stranger.

“Gaafyahzin, drem! Him zeymahu ni hokoron!”

As Ulfric ascended to the second floor of the palace, he frowned at the sound of Finn's scolding voice. Turning the corner into the hallway, he found his Thane holding the smallest of the hatchlings up to her as Sulpaazov sulked at her ankles. His heart catching a bit, he stormed forward quickly enough to send the three into a frenzy again, much to Finn's dismay.

“I was trying to scold!” she complained, scooping Inkahlok into her other arm to stop him from flying off and hitting a wall again. “What's wrong?”

“What are you doing?!” Ulfric hissed, gesturing down the hall. “Anyone could come up here and see this! Be careful!”

“You said I could train them here,” Finn pointed out, suddenly deadpan. Ulfric knew from the look on her face that she was ready to go on the defensive, but Jorleif's warning rang fresh in his ears, and he settled for arguing.

“I said you could train them in the spare room! Hide them again, now!” he ordered her, earning a reproachful look.

“You also said you'd help!” she shot back now, hugging the dragons to her chest. Three sets of eyes were searching the two humans, as if trying to figure out why they were suddenly so loud with each other. “What have you been doing?!”

“Running the city, Finn. That's a priority of mine, you realize?!”

“I understand that, but...taking care of dragons isn't easy, Ulfric! J-just a little help would be--” She paused, realizing that her voice was shaking, and huffed furiously, turning away. “Fine.” She stormed off, her hatchlings in tow, and the Jarl felt suddenly uneasy.

“Where are you going?” he called after her.

“I'm taking them out to train in the woods! Is that too much as well?! Oaf,” she added irritably, returning with the crate in her arms and breezing past him sullenly. As she darted down the stairs, nimble even with the wait, Ulfric sighed, suppressing an eyeroll and watching her go.

“So stubborn,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Truly.”

Happy to see this continue! I've become very fond of the baby dragons... I think what clinched it was when you made Finn and Ulfric give them names.

amazing as ever, a!a ;v; also, i love love LOVE finn. she's so sassy and snarky but so adorable at the same time. :>

Night had fallen by the time Finn returned to the Palace of the Kings. Ulfric's eyes widened when he took her in, her clothes in tatters and her eyes red, and quickly rose from the throne to meet her.

“What happened?!” he asked worriedly, all anger from before gone. Finn wiped her eyes and bowed her head, only to start crying all over again, and gestured at the crate between them.

“Inkahlok...” she sobbed, hugging herself for comfort. “H-he got so excited to be outdoors again, and he ran off...he can't even fly yet, but I lost him! I couldn't find him anywhere!” She ended on a wail, falling to her knees beside the crate and hiding her face. His mouth dry as he remembered the lively dragon he secretly liked so much, Ulfric crouched in front of her, taking a hold of her shoulders.

“Shh,” he soothed, helping her to her feet again and hoisting the crate up. “Don't cry. Here's what I'll do for you.” He handed the box back to its rightful owner, watching Finn's tearful eyes flash with confusion. “Take them back to their room, and wait for me there. I'll go find Inkahlok, and I won't come back until I do.”

“...Huh?” Finn frowned, not entirely sure she had heard right. Ulfric motioned at the stairwell simply, already fastening his cloak around his shoulders.

“You heard me. Go to the spare room with these two and wait. I'll bring him back, you have my word.” Before the Breton could reply, he swept from the room, leaving her to process it all.

“...Het. Come on,” she murmured, gesturing for the remaining two to follow her as she half-stumbled up the stairs.

Ulfric could see his breath rising in the freezing air as he wandered through the woods, arms crossed and his cloak loose on his shoulders. He couldn't help but wonder if Inkahlok was accustomed to the cold yet, if he was uncomfortable in the face of such weather, and shook his head irritably.

“He's fine,” he muttered to himself, before stopping in his tracks, wondering. Finn had been teaching them their names, which means that Shout would work, in theory...clearing his throat, he raised his voice, and for the first time since the end of the war, the Thu'um returned to him.

“In! Kah! Lok!”

The words were accompanied by a burst of power, and for a moment, the cold air seemed to tremble. But then, the silence returned, and Ulfric groaned, trekking forward again. In the distance, he could hear the menacing chatter of Skeevers, along with a high, hoarse voice...

Wait.

“Bormah! Bormah, het, het!” That was all the invitation the Jarl needed to hurry after the sound, soon hearing the scratching of claws as the hatchling fought viciously against a small pack of Skeevers. Ulfric drew his sword as well, cutting the vermin down in a few quick slices, then knelt beside the dragon as it observed the now dead creatures.

“Dilon hokoron...” he purred, pleased, before returning his beady gaze to Ulfric. “Drem yol lok, bormah.”

“Kos hiu ni krah, dovahkiir?” Ulfric inquired, scooping the hatchling into his arms and starting back again. Inkahlok curled up against his chest, watching the dark scenery as they started back towards the city.

“Aam...Daar su'umu iiz,” he remarked, letting a puff of air float up from his nose. “Mu daal nu?”

“Geh,” Ulfric affirmed with a nod, before trying his luck with the hatchling. “'Home,' Inkahlok. Mu daal 'home.'” Inkahlok frowned at the Common word, looking suspiciously up at the Nord for a moment.

“...Home.”

When he pushed the door to the spare room open, he found Finn curled up in the rough blankets, an arm draped over Sulpaazov while Gaafyahzin slept by her stomach. Inkahlok squirmed from Ulfric's grasp, eager to return to his siblings, and the Jarl crouched beside the sleeping Breton.

“You are a perfect fool,” he grumbled, scooping her light body off of the floor and carrying her from the room.

He wasn't sure what inspired him to take her to his bed instead of her own. At three in the morning, he could safely say his only intention was to sleep, but having Finn in the bed beside him, fast asleep and warming him as he looked up at the ceiling, was more comforting than he would have ever guessed. He leaned over to ruffle her hair, allowing himself a smile as he dozed off.

“Mother of dragons...” he murmured simply.

I love how Ulfric "I'm no one's Bormah!" Stormcloak has completely accepted that role, especially for little Inkahlok. This was preciously sweet and I can't wait to see what happens next. After all, Monahhi & Bormahhi need love too.

Finn awoke to a large, bear-adorned banner looming over her. Her brow furrowed, she turned to find that she wasn't in her guest bed, but in Ulfric's, and that the Jarl himself was snoring beside her. Her eyes widened a little, and she tugged the blanket closer to her chest, trying to gather her thoughts. Okay...so he brought me to bed, then. I suppose he earned it, if he found Inkahlok. But...why? She wriggled slowly towards the edge of the bed, hoping not to wake him as she slipped out from under the covers and crept from the room. It didn't matter, she decided cheerfully as she tiptoed towards the hatchlings' hideaway. In truth, she didn't mind waking up beside him all that much. The thought made her blush just a little, and she shook her head, listening to the door click closed behind her before she started walking normally once more.

To her relief, she found that Inkahlok was indeed back in the room, curled up with his two siblings. He quickly untangled himself at the sight of his mother, half-flying over to meet her, and she crouched beside him, grinning and rubbing his scaly head.

“I knew I could count on bormah,” she said with a sigh. “Come on, it's time for breakfast.”

As she tossed a few slabs of meat onto the floor and watched the ravenous hatchlings scramble for them, the Breton glanced up thoughtfully, an idea coming to her quickly. Why she hadn't thought of it before escaped her now, and she pushed herself off of the counter again, striding out to grab her boots.

By the time Ulfric came down to meet her, she was already fully armored and had the crate ready, and was in the process of ushering Gaafyahzin inside.

“Are you going out?” the Jarl asked curiously, watching her tilt the box back to all fours and stand up proudly.

“I am. I know just who to talk to, now. Somebody who can offer me some first-hand knowledge,” she announced, approaching him cautiously.

“Do you want company?”

“Not this time. I'll be back soon,” Finn promised, wrapping her arms around the Nord's waist. Ulfric raised an eyebrow, though he did return the embrace a bit uncomfortably.

“Don't lose anyone this time,” he warned her. “Be careful.” The Breton pulled back, grinning widely despite the slight insult.

“I always am,” she insisted.

The box held loosely in her arms, Finn found herself alone in what seemed to be a secluded field. With the exception of a few scattering deer and a fox that eyed her curiously, nobody seemed to be close enough to witness what she was about to do. She placed the box on the ground, giving the hatchlings free rein, then looked up, cleared her throat, and Shouted to the sky.

“Odahviing!”

In the silence that followed, she noticed Inkahlok poke his head out of the crate, curious at this new call. A roar answered after a moment, and the shadow of a much larger dragon swept over them as Odahviing circled, looking for a place to land.

“Mey...you try my patience at times, Dovahkiin,” the dragon complained, glaring down at his tiny companion. “What is it that you need?” Finn smiled calmly, stepping up to the hunter's eyes and waving a hand in greeting.

“So you say. I need your help.” She gestured at the box now, just in time for Inkahlok to clamber out and Gaafyahzin to attempt following suit. “I...came across these three a while ago.” Odahviing looked down at the hatchlings as they revealed themselves and clamored around him, and snorted in what the Dragonborn assumed was laughter.

“Aam? You have taken on kiirre, Dovahkiin? A monah, with everything you've done?” Finn rolled her eyes now, and the dragon shook his head, watching the three observe him.

“Wou daar?” Sulpaazov asked first, her focus on her brothers. “Paal? Fron?”

“Nid paal,” Odahviing informed her. “Nuz fron? Hiou dov, med daar gein.” He returned his attention to Finn, the low chuckle returning. “I cannot help you, Dovahkiin. The instincts of a monahsedovahhe...they are not for me to understand. But let me tell you,” he added as he spread his wings again. “Dovakiirre are quick to grow.”

Thanks Odahviing...

You are tons for help.

Re: "Something Like Parents" 9/?

(Anonymous) - 2012-11-09 22:36 (UTC) - Expand

I hope you're still going with this, I love the baby dragons, and I love me some Ulfric......

“He has a point,” Finn grumbled aloud, lugging the box back to Windhelm irritably. Odahviing's complete lack of help had left her frustrated and pondering, and a glance down revealed that the three were indeed larger than they once had been. She was going to need a new crate sooner or later, if they kept this up. Shaking her head, she nodded amiably at the guards as she pushed her way into the city gates.

Maybe she would be in the right to find a new place to keep them. She had friends all over the province at this point, people from all sorts of backgrounds who had promised her favors if she needed one. Still, she wasn't entirely sure that they had intended for her to show up with three rapidly growing dragons, asking for a place to keep them and food to keep them satisfied. Probably not.

By the time she entered the Palace of the Kings, her brow hurt with furrowing and the hatchlings were becoming restless. She lowered the crate onto the kitchen floor and moved to the counter, quick to feed the loudly complaining babies. The noise was enough to earn the Jarl's attention from the other room, and he rose from the chair he had occupied.

“Welcome home,” he said from the doorway, watching as Finn tossed heavy slabs of meat to her hatchlings. Finn smiled, a little distracted by her own thoughts, and pushed herself off of the counter.

“I need your help, I think,” she announced, leading him out of the kitchen and closing the door. “My friend told me that dragons grow quickly.”

“You didn't know that?” Ulfric interrupted, raising an eyebrow. “I figured you of all people--”

“I'm not done.” Finn crossed her arms, trying to make herself seem at least a little larger, but deflated in a moment more. “I don't know what to do. I...I never expected anything like this to happen, of course not. But...you and I both know it's not going to be safe for them. Being a dragon around here isn't usually a good sign, hm? I-I...” She took a seat on the floor, her lips drawn tightly together. “I'm scared.” The Jarl slid down the wall to join her, eying her curiously as she continued. “Hunters won't know they're tame. They can fend for themselves, b-but...I've killed dragons before! Someone will be able to bring them down, a-and then...!” Her eyes welled up and she hid her face in her knees, embarrassed to cry yet again in front of her Jarl. “I don't know what to do this time...”

The sudden feeling of his hand on top of her head was strangely soothing, and she looked up from her hands. Ulfric promptly pulled her to his side, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and giving her a gentle squeeze.

“You're a smart woman,” her murmured thoughtfully. “We'll find a way. We can take them back to the Throat of the World, to Paarthurnax...he'll know what to do, if he's there. I've heard enough from the Greybeards over the years to know.” He looked back down at her, surprised to find that the tears had faded and she was now staring at him anxiously. “Don't worry,” he finished, pulling her to her feet again. “I'll help you, as long as you need my help.” Finn remained silent and gazing downwards, but nodded wordlessly.

“Thank you...” she mumbled hoarsely, forcing her eyes back up to the taller man's face. She settled for taking a bold step forward and pushing herself up on her toes to finally claim the kiss she had hoped for. She felt Ulfric's large hands on her hips, pulling her up further to make it easier for himself, and her fingers tightened on his shoulders. Still, she was first to pull away, the need for air too much for her, and slumped against his chest as he lowered her slowly down again.

“I-I...” she panted, her face reddening. “...Right, so. We should probably head out tomorrow, s-so...”

“Of course. I'm going to bed, in that case,” Ulfric replied, allowing himself a smile. “You're more than welcome to join me--”

“Not tonight,” Finn interrupted him brusquely, hurrying past to her own room. “But...thanks.”

Finally they kiss!
Please continue. I will camp till completion!

I'm so happy, you've made my day.

Hi, guys! Remember when I actually worked on this? I'm so sorry for those of you who were waiting for it. I've been hyper-busy lately and have had just NO time to update any of the things I'm working on here. But part 11 is in the works starting today, and I promise not to make you guys wait too much longer for it.

Re: "Something Like Parents" 10/? (A MESSAGE FROM THE A!ANON)

(Anonymous) - 2013-03-15 10:01 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

(Anonymous) - 2013-03-18 01:19 (UTC) - Expand

If the trek to High Hrothgar had been more exhausting than Ulfric remembered, the way up to the Throat of the World was enough of a journey to kill him. The winds battered the small group with every step, and he found himself holding Gaafyahzin under his cloak to shield him from the cold. Inkahlok had taken his familiar perch on the Jarl's shoulder, complaining of the “norok venne” with every step they took. Ahead of the three, Finn and Sulpaazov trudged ahead, the Breton's hair whipping around her face and the hatchling's tail curled gently around her mother's neck.

“Are you holding up back there?!” she shouted over the wind.

“I thought you knew the Thu'um to help with this, Finn!” Ulfric retorted back.

“Clear Skies isn't perfect, Ulfric! Even if I keep using it, the wind's going to pick up again the higher we go!” As if to prove it, she turned away and planted her feet into the ground. “Lok...vah koor!” The wind died down just enough for the Jarl to catch up with her and pull her close.

“We're going to freeze to death if we keep splitting up,” he remarked. The Breton allowed him his hint of affection, but looked up at him irritably.

“Then move faster.” She gestured at the clouds that hid the peak from view. “We're almost to the top, I think. We've certainly been walking long enough for it.” She paused, noticing Gaafyahzin poking his head out from under Ulfric's cloak, and softened. “Gaafyahzin, dreh hiu faas od?”

“Bormahu faad,” the hatchling retorted. Finn chuckled lightly.

“Geh. Vahzah.” She turned back to the worn path, gesturing at Ulfric to follow. “The least we can do is get up there before the sun goes down. It's not going to get any warmer.” She squirmed out from under the Nord's heavy arm and began forward again, just in time for the wind to bare its teeth again. Ulfric darted after her, his hands keeping both hatchlings firmly in place as the ascent grew rougher on them.

The bitter cold of the mountain's peak was almost a relief compared to the blizzards below. Ulfric, for one, was damn glad to see the sun again. In the meantime, Finn had taken a seat on a boulder and pried Sulpaazov off her shoulder.

“You're getting too heavy to do that, brii,” she cooed, rubbing her hatchling's scaly head. She looked up again just as the Jarl sat beside her. “Good to see you in one piece.”

“More or less,” Ulfric retorted, leaning back and letting Inkahlok dart from his shoulder to his mother's. “How do you want to do this?”

“I'd appreciate if you let me do the talking,” the Breton admitted with a nervous smile. “I'm not sure how Paarthurnax is going to feel about my bringing you up here.” Ulfric nodded in agreement, a twinge of shame resounding in him. He would have known Paarthurnax himself, if he had stayed...

“Bormah,” Gaafyahzin said quietly from under his arm. As he watched the hatchling clamber out to join his siblings, the Nord relaxed slightly. Disapproval or not, the elder dragon likely would not attack unless he did something to provoke him, and in either case...Finn was there to protect him. Now the shame returned as he realized he was relying on a girl at least a foot shorter than him for protection in the first place. Damn it all.

His thoughts were interrupted again, this time by the unmistakable roar of the dragon in question. Finn rose to her feet, murmuring for her hatchlings to wait with Ulfric, and stepped forward.

“Paarthurnax!” she called, bracing herself against the winds of the dragon's wings. He landed on his usual perch, sending flurries of snow around the Breton with the force of his descent.

“Drem yol lok, Dovahkiin. It is rare that you make the journey this far up my mountain,” he greeted her. Finn smiled a little nervously, taking a seat by the engraved wall.

“I'm afraid I need your help again,” she admitted. When the elder dragon simply eyed her, she cleared her throat and turned. “Inkahlok. Sulpaazov, Gaafyahzin. Het!” The hatchlings darted over to her side, trying to fly but only crashing into each other in their hurry.

“Hmm? Kirre? Interesting, Dovahkiin...conventional human motherhood never seemed to be a priority for you.” Paarthurnax chuckled, earning a curious look from the younger dragons. “Tell me, monahsedovahhe, how did this come to be?”

While Finn sat cross-legged with her hatchlings and explained the entire situation to the elder dragon, Ulfric looked out at his country. Arngeir had constantly entertained him with stories of the view from the mountain's peak, and promised him that if he continued his training, he would see it all for himself. Likely neither of them had guessed when he left High Hrothgar that he'd find his way up anyway, and with three baby dragons at that.

“Ulfric Stormcloak,” Paarthurnax rumbled from his perch. The Nord snapped back to attention, tense under five different gazes. “Come, join us.” He obeyed quickly, humbled enough just by the size of the dragon. “Ah...so the junsekeizaal reaches me at long last. Arngeir spoke of you fondly, and often. He had always imagined that you would replace him when the time came.”

“I know,” Ulfric replied, standing tall at Finn's side. “I used to think the same.” Paarthurnax made a noise deep in his throat, and the Jarl stepped back, unsure if he was laughing or growling.

“Hmm. Our Dovahkiin tells me you have helped her immensely, raising these hatchlings.” Finn nodded wordlessly, and Ulfric took a seat at her side.

“I've tried to,” he agreed. “I...imagine it would be a lot for her to take on alone. Too much, even for someone as—for her.”

“You do not need to prove yourself to me, kodaav,” Paarthurnax assured him. Ulfric raised an eyebrow at the nickname, but remained silent. “Human eyes are easy to read. I see your loyalty to the Dovahkiin, and I trust her judgment regarding you. However, this means that the difficult choices become your burden as well as hers.” Finn glanced between the two anxiously, hugging Inkahlok closer to her chest.

“I don't understand,” she said, unconvincingly. The elder dragon shook his head slowly.

“Dovahkiin...” he began, the caution in his voice only adding to the Breton's fears. “You understand well enough what the bronne feel towards my kind. You keep the presence of your hatchlings secret because you know revealing them would strike fear into their hearts. They will only grow more quickly from here on out. In Skyrim, a fully grown dragon is never safe. Self-defense is easy, but they will live out their adult lives fighting or fleeing if they stay.” Finn kept her eyes down through his speech, and stroked Inkahlok's head wordlessly. “That is not the case everywhere,” Paarthurnax continued. “I have the ability to ensure their safety and comfort should they leave this place. Black Marsh, the land of the Argonians, and Valenwood, the land of the Bosmer...I can see to it that both provinces would welcome your dovahhe, provided they do not ransack villages and make meals out of citizens.”

“You can see to that?” Ulfric asked, an eyebrow raised.

“I have powerful allies among both provinces,” Paarthurnax assured him. “It will not be easy, but it will be possible. You have my word on that.” Sulpaazov climbed into her father's lap and studied the scene, even as the Nord pulled her close. Gaafyahzin remained silent, seated between his parents and watching Paarthurnax as he addressed Finn again. “What do you think, Dovahkiin?” Finn forced her eyes upward, hoping the dragon couldn't see the beginning of tears in them.

“Nustu zu kirre, zu laas,” she finally murmured, her voice choked. From her spot in Ulfric's lap, Sulpaazov lifted her head and sniffed the air. Paarthurnax nodded wordlessly.

“And parting with them will not change that. You parted from your own monah when you came of age, did you not? And yet the love between you two still exists. It will not be different with these three.” Finn nodded in agreement, returning her gaze to the dragon in her lap. “This will not be immediate, Dovahkiin. Your kirre are not yet old enough to make such a journey. You can be their mother for a while longer.” Another nod, and this time, the Breton rose to her feet. Inkahlok flapped his wings sharply and sank his claws into her arm to hold on, and she winced.

“You're right,” she said reluctantly, gesturing for her other hatchlings to join her. With all three using her for a perch, Ulfric couldn't help but notice how large they really were getting. “I...I'll prepare them. Thank you.”

Re: "Something Like Parents" 12/?

(Anonymous) - 2013-04-04 01:28 (UTC) - Expand

The trip back down the mountain was mostly silent. Inkahlok had returned to Ulfric's shoulder a few minutes before, but his siblings remained with Finn. The Jarl watched her back worriedly, wondering just what to say to her in light of this news. She was obviously distraught, but her furrowed eyebrows and tense shoulders gave him the idea that trying to soothe her was a bad call this time.

“Monah lost krosis,” Inkahlok murmured, resting his head atop Ulfric's. The Nord nodded wordlessly, reaching up to stroke his wings. When the hatchling lapsed back into silence, however, he couldn't help but wish that he'd speak again. The quiet was starting to be too much to bear.

“Finn,” he finally called, hurrying forward to walk at her side. The Breton looked stubbornly down, her hair falling out of its ponytail and into her face. “What are you thinking?”

“I don't know,” she admitted quietly, only to shake her head. “That's not true. I know what I have to do, but I don't know how I'm going to handle it.” She stopped abruptly by one of the emblems and took a seat, ignoring the cold. “Ulfric...I'm their mother. They should be able to count on me to stop them from being hurt. If I can't even do that...”

“It's not the same situation, Finn,” Ulfric interrupted her. “You're the mother of dragons. That isn't quite the same as having Breton children to care for.” He moved to wrap an arm around her, only to rethink it and settle for laying a hand on her shoulder. “Paarthurnax spoke truly. You won't stop being their mother the day they fly out of Skyrim. They're bound to remember who you are to them.” Finn's eyes were welling up by the time he finished talking, and she gritted her teeth, trying to stop the tears from falling.

“I didn't imagine it would come to this,” she whispered. “When I took them in...I never thought I'd actually care.”

Me neither, Ulfric thought, unconsciously reaching for Inkahlok again. Now he did embrace her, and she pulled her knees up to her chest. The only noise for a few minutes was Finn's weak sobbing and Inkahlok's worried mumbling. Neither parent expected the silence to be broken by Sulpaazov.

“Monah,” she began quietly, nudging the Breton's knee. “W-why...why do you cry?” The words came out clumsy and awkward, but the sound of Common from one of her hatchlings was enough to shock Finn out of her sadness.

“Sulpaazov...?” she murmured, scooping up the hatchling. On her shoulder, Gaafyahzin tilted his head as well, confused by the strange language his sister was emitting.

“Tinvaak se muz,” he complained. Finn turned to Ulfric, amazed, and nodded.

“Tinvaak se muz...” she agreed.

Upon their return to the Palace of the Kings, Finn had retreated to the hatchlings' makeshift bedroom. Ulfric found her laying on the rough blankets, surrounded by her dragons and recalling an adventure for them.

“Your bormah, your father...I met him in the tower, once I had gotten away from the Lein-Naak, the World-Eater,” she said cheerfully. “His voice had the same suleyk, even then. I didn't know who he was, but I assumed he was some bron mul, as most of them are...do you understand so far?” The hatchlings chattered in both Common and the Dragon language now, excited at their mother's dramatic escape from both her captors and Alduin. Ulfric stayed in the doorway for a moment, tempted to join them. He doubted Finn would tell them about how she had jumped through the roof of an inn, acting as though the fire she had to pass through didn't even exist. She had the same suleyk, he thought with a hint of affection.

Still, he left her to tell the story, and returned up the stairs. Truth be told, it made him just a bit nervous. He still didn't want to think of that girl and those dragons as his own.

Re: "Something Like Parents" 13/?

(Anonymous) - 2013-04-09 21:08 (UTC) - Expand

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.

Ulfric was surprised at how exhausted he was following a day with the hatchlings. By the time he had climbed into his bed and prepared to blow out the candles, his limbs were aching from the cold and the effort. It hadn't happened in a long time, he realized with a touch of amusement. And, he found that it didn't really bother him all that much.

He couldn't get the images out of his head, now. Gaafyahzin finally taking flight, the three hatchlings darting around each other in mid-air, Finn watching with all the pride of a young mother...she had truly grown into her role, that much was certain. He wasn't sure what that meant for him, but he couldn't help but be proud of her, in turn. This impromptu motherhood had shaped her well.

He couldn't help but wonder what she thought of him, as the impromptu father. Something had stopped him from investing in the name the way she had. Fear of the constantly growing affection he was harboring for the dragons, or the lack of preparation that had come with suddenly taking them on. At least with his own children, he would have been able to plan it, in a way. He shook his head at the thought, and let his head rest in the pillows.

Your hatchlings are enough without you worrying about human children, he chided himself. As he sat up again to finally blow out the candles, the door to his bedroom opened, and he bit back a complaint. Any protest died on his tongue when he realized who his visitor was, however.

“Finn,” he greeted her, propping himself up on his elbows. The Breton's armor was gone now, replaced by a simple dress. She padded across the room, eying him cheerfully.

“I never thanked you for coming out with me today,” she began, taking a seat beside him on the bed.

“You never needed to,” Ulfric replied. “Thanking somebody for fulfilling their obligations is training them to be lazy.” Finn raised an eyebrow at him.

“Obligations?” she echoed, surprised. “I...hadn't figured you thought of it that way.” Ulfric noticed her hand resting just within his reach, and placed his over it on the bed.

“Of course. I mean...” He paused, gritting his teeth at the absurdity of what he was going to say. “They...they call me 'bormah.'” Finn laughed loudly and nodded.

“Yes, they definitely do.” She paused, looking at where their hands met, then abruptly stood again. Before the Jarl could react, she had pulled the blankets back and clambered under them, joining him in the bed yet again. “And you said at first that you're nobody's bormah.”

“I wasn't,” Ulfric said simply, leaning over to blow out the candle. “Are you sleeping here, then?” Finn eyed him fondly, following suit with the candle at her side.

“I figure you owe me. I haven't forgotten falling asleep with the hatchlings and waking up in here,” she remarked. The Nord glared at her, the memory returning just as vividly.

“I was trying to make sure you were comfortable!” he retorted. “You make it sound so--” Finn rolled over abruptly, silencing him with a kiss. “Mm...” He felt her push forward, her small breasts pressed against him as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He pulled her up on top of him now, grabbing at her hips and intensifying the kiss until she pulled back, gasping.

“G-gods...” she whispered breathlessly. “Please, no more. Not tonight.” She smiled weakly, hugging him tightly. “I have things to do tomorrow. I'd prefer...not to be sore.” Ulfric chuckled, lowering her back onto the mattress beside him and stroking your hair.

“You give me credit, Finn, if you think you'd be sore,” he teased her. Finn blushed and pouted up at him.

“I-I mean...you're...” she began, gesturing at him wordlessly before rolling back onto her back. “Goodnight, Ulfric.” Even with her reddened face, he could see the same smile in her eyes. He leaned over and kissed her once more, lingering on her lips before laying back down with an arm around her waist.

“Goodnight.”

Re: "Something Like Parents" 15/?

(Anonymous) - 2013-05-13 11:22 (UTC) - Expand

Re: "Something Like Parents" 15/?

(Anonymous) - 2013-05-13 13:10 (UTC) - Expand

Another note from the A!anon!

(Anonymous) - 2013-05-18 01:05 (UTC) - Expand

A light pressure on Ulfric's chest eased him out of sleep that morning. At first, he assumed that Finn had moved closer in the night, and that it was simply her head. But when he felt something scaly nuzzle his cheek, the assumption died quickly.

His eyes shot open and he found himself staring directly into Sulpaazov's eyes. He sat up, catching the not-so-little dragon as she slid down into his lap.

“How did you get here?” he asked, openly confused. At his side, Finn groaned quietly, her brow furrowing as the movements woke her up as well. Now Sulpaazov clambered out of the Jarl's arms.

“Monah! Good morning! Drem yol lok,” she said cheerfully. Finn looked sleepily down at the hatchling, not comprehending at first what she was even doing here. Suddenly, her eyes widened, and she looked up at Ulfric.

“H-how'd she get in here?” she asked. Sulpaazov answered for him.

“Door, monah! The door to our...our...praan?” she said tentatively, unsure of the words.

“Your room?” Finn asked. “The one with your bed, and your zeymahhe?”

“Geh, monah. Inkahlok bex.” Now Finn practically flung herself out of the bed, already running for the door even as she called over her shoulder.

“They got out!”

With Sulpaazov back in the room, the two parents were quick to head to the kitchens. Knowing the ravenous hatchlings, they both figured that wherever food was, they wouldn't be far from. Sure enough, they found Gaafyahzin seated on the table, gnawing on what was left of a roasted goat leg.

“Have you seen Inkahlok? Zu yah zeymah,” Finn asked hurriedly, sweeping the dragon into her arms and starting back towards his room.

“Inkahlok? Hon lah, monah. He went up,” he answered. With that, he took flight, gliding into the room to join his sister, and Finn locked the door tightly behind them.

“How could I have forgotten to lock the door?” she lamented. “Gods, but I'm stupid.” Ulfric was quick to turn her back.

“You aren't, and Inkahlok is still upstairs,” he reminded her. With that, Finn nodded sharply. Self-pity could wait, she reminded herself as they headed off again.

Gaafyahzin's clue had pointed them towards the most magicka-laden room in the Palace. Ulfric peered into Wuunferth's room to find the wizard still sleeping, and heaved a sigh of relief. When he caught up to Finn in the mage's office, however, he found their last dragon.

Bottles were scattered across the floor, and they both counted themselves lucky that the racket hadn't woken Wuunferth. At the moment, Inkahlok was glaring at a small green bottle that he held between his claws. Even his teeth couldn't penetrate it, and his small, exasperated hisses were worrying his mother.

“Go,” she urged Ulfric, dropping to a crouch. “Make sure Wuunferth doesn't get in here. I'll deal with him.” As the Jarl ran back to the wizard's bedroom, she held out her hand, coaxing her largest dragon. “Drem yol lok, kiir. What are you doing?”

“Bex...bex!” Inkahlok complained, biting at the bottle again. “It will not break, monah. It smells good.”

“It doesn't need to break, mal ah. Come back, now. Het, to me.” Despite her attempts, Inkahlok merely pushed the bottle to the floor again and circled it.

“Not yet,” he replied. “Wait, monah.” He flapped his wings once, moving himself back, and in an instant, Finn understood what he was about to do.

“Inkahlok, niid. Come here!” Instead, the dragon opened his mouth wide. “Niid!”

“Yol!”

“I still don't understand how this happened,” Wuunferth exclaimed as Finn began counting out the septims.

“I told you already,” she offered. “I knocked over a candle. By the time I noticed, it was too late.” She glanced behind her as well, wincing at the charred remains of the wizard's stock of ingredients. “I really am sorry. Will this cover it?” She handed over the heavy coin purse, which Wuunferth took with an approving nod.

“Some of those ingredients were a little more challenging to obtain, Thane Finn. But you've done what you can. A pleasure doing business with you.” He swept past her, scooping blackened ingredients off of the shelves. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some cleaning up to do.”

Finn returned to the main hall just as Ulfric had entered as well. Inkahlok had returned to his siblings without complaint, and immediately launched into his version of the incident. Of course, it was much more dramatic than his mother's, but the other hatchlings seemed thrilled.

“We need to talk,” Finn told the Jarl, grabbing him by the hand and guiding him back to his quarters. In the silence that followed, she slumped in the nearby chair and buried her face in her hands. Ulfric approached her nervously and took a seat across the table.

“Are you alright?” he asked, hoping to at least begin the conversation.

“What do you think?” Finn's voice was slightly muffled by her palms, and she forced herself to look up at him. “I just lost over four thousand septims paying for nightshade and taproot!” She paused to bite her lip, then continued more quietly. “I was worried about this for a while, Ulfric. Every day they get bolder, more energetic. It's harder for me to control them. Just yesterday, I went to feed them, and I had to go back to the kitchens five times because Sulpaazov kept stealing food from her brothers. They use the Thu'um indoors. They fly themselves into exhaustion and slam into walls. Jorleif and Galmar are noticing the sounds.” She slumped across the table now, looking hopelessly up at him. “But they're not strong enough yet. They'll never make a journey to Valenwood, not until they're bigger.” Ulfric thought on this silently, leaning on the table as well.

“You know people, Finn. You have friends all over Skyrim, from what I've heard. Is there any chance you could move them to somewhere more open? Somewhere they could wander more freely, without as much trouble?” Finn stared at him, slightly amused at the notion.

“I have friends, yes. I don't think they meant housing dragons when they said they'd do me favors, though,” she chuckled, running a hand through her hair. “It's a good idea, all the same. I do know someone living to the south, who could help me. He's in Darkwater Crossing...from what Captain Ralof told me once, you're familiar with it.” Ulfric's face darkened slightly at the memory of the ambush, and he nodded curtly.

“Of course. A mining town, if I remember right. You really do have friends all over, Finn,” he teased her. Finn smirked at him, rising to her feet.

“Ah...but that would mean I need to make a journey,” she sighed. “You can handle the dragons for a day or two, right?”

“I'll do my best,” Ulfric assured her, pulling her in for a quick kiss. “Be careful out there.” Now the Breton grinned up at him.

“I hope so, Ulfric. Don't want Wuunferth losing any more of his supplies, do we?”

Re: "Something Like Parents" 17/?

(Anonymous) - 2013-05-21 04:11 (UTC) - Expand

"Something Like Parents" 18/?

(Anonymous) - 2013-05-26 13:45 (UTC) - Expand

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