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

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Galmar Stone-Fist roared with laughter, banging his fist on what had once been their strategy table. With the war over, it had since become home to tankards and the stories of Stormcloaks, and Galmar still gave it the respect it deserved.

“Ah, Yrsarald,” he chortled. “That story gets better every time you tell it.” Across the table, Yrsarald Thrice-Pierced laughed in agreement, hunching over the same table and looking down at the map that had been left there.

“Oh, that it does,” he chuckled. A glance out the door caused the soldier's smile to fade, however, and he leaned in. “Galmar, my friend, I have to ask. The Jarl's been...out of sorts, these past few weeks.” Galmar suppressed an eyeroll, looking over his shoulder at the Jarl in question. Ulfric was slouched on his throne, looking around the main hall with admittedly disinterested eyes.

“Don't worry about him just because he won't join us for drinks, Yrsarald. He's tired. He was a busy man before we won the war, and it hasn't gotten easier,” the Jarl's second-in-command said. Yrsarald frowned, unconvinced.

“Rumors are going around in the city. They say he was involved with Thane Finn. She hasn't been in Windhelm for a while, has she?”

“What, have you been listening to Viola Giordano? You never struck me as a gossip, my friend,” Galmar retorted. He swept past his fellow Stormcloak to look out at their Jarl. “I'll talk to him. You just make sure a certain old maid keeps her nose where it belongs.” With that, he approached the throne, raising an eyebrow at his old friend. “Well now, Ulfric. You look like a sulky child without a sweetroll.” Ulfric grinned despite himself.

“Charming as ever, Galmar,” he fired back, straightening up in his seat. “I thought you and Yrsarald were drinking.”

“You always think that. And if that was the case, why not drink with us?” Now the Jarl leaned back on his hand, amused nonetheless.

“I have a city to keep, my friend. You know that.” He paused, eying the gruff man. “Unless there's something else you wanted to talk about? You have that look in your eyes.”

“People are talking out in the city,” Galmar remarked. “Yrsarald tells me that the Giordano woman--”

“--is as lively as ever?” Ulfric interjected. “Does she remember that the fiasco with the Butcher is resolved? Calixto Corrium died at Finn's hand. What more does she have to talk about?”

“She has Finn to talk about.” The Jarl sat up once again, his brow furrowed. Galmar smirked slightly, noticing the fire in his eyes. He had him now.

“Finn?”

“Anyone who's seen you knows you're restless, Ulfric. On edge, as you are before a fight. I happen to remember your mood changing the day that little Breton walked out of Windhelm.” Galmar crossed his arms now, looking smugly up at his old friend. Ulfric shifted in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable. It had been weeks since he had last seen Finn or their dragons, and the prospect of not being with them made him unusually anxious.

“I hadn't assumed you noticed.”

“Please. I've noticed it, Yrsarald's noticed it, Jorlief's noticed it...by Talos, I think Sifnar's noticed it, and he's not the sharpest knife in that kitchen.” The Nord nodded sagely. “For all your subtlety in the strategy room, you're still a clumsy lad with women, aren't you?”

“I've had more pressing matters to worry about, but I suppose,” Ulfric replied, rolling his eyes. “What are you getting at, Galmar? What do you want to say?” Galmar grinned openly, planting himself on the first step of the throne.

“You love her.”

“You think so?” When the housecarl nodded firmly, Ulfric closed his eyes, not wanting to betray his emotions to his closest friends. “...Interesting.”

“That's really the best you can do?” Galmar asked, amused. The Jarl stood abruptly, and he took a step back, wondering exactly what his punishment would be this time. Ulfric merely clapped a hand on his shoulder and nodded.

“Go make yourself useful, friend.” With that, he returned to his seat, leaving his housecarl to level him with an exasperated glare before retreating to the strategy room.

AARGH! Ulfric--darn it, man! Go to your woman and children! Seriously, MEN!

(loving this so much~ A!A, please don't quit on us! we love you with all the fiery passion that Ulfric has for his cause!)

I like this

More please ouo

Oooh! I can't wait for more! c:

Hope this story won't get forgotten/abandoned.

When Derkeethus returned from his morning fishing trip, he found Finn laying on the floor of his house. She stared absently at the ceiling, stroking Inkahlok's scaly head as he rested as well. Sulpaazov was spread out on the bed, her tail and wings spilling over the sides. Gaafyahzin was absent.

“He's out hunting,” Finn explained, sitting up to notice the Argonian's quizzical look. “He's a growing boy...brought back another elk the other day.” She eyed the basket of salmon, beaming. “Were you planning on sharing that?” Sulpaazov clicked in agreement, raising her head.

“Fresh fish,” she murmured. “Pook pruzah.” Derkeethus tossed her a few fresh steaks, before laying a few down in front of Inkahlok and handing what was left to Finn. Up close, he could see the shadows under her eyes, and the vaguely glassy look on her face.

“You look tired,” he remarked. Finn nodded, taking a seat by the fire and biting into the salmon steak. When her friend had sat as well, she spoke again.

“I was thinking,” she began cautiously. “I've been thinking, I mean. For a few days. I think I need to go see Paarthurnax.” She paused, turning away and looking at her two hatchlings. “...They're ready, Derkeethus.” Derkeethus looked as well, his heart sinking. Sure enough, Sulpaazov was as large as the bed she lay on, and Inkahlok was even larger. He had seen them fly with strong wings and loud voices, and watched them make meals out of bears. He had known it was coming as much as Finn had, but hearing the words reminded him that they had a reality to deal with.

“You really think so?” he asked, just to make sure.

“I really do.” The Breton bit her lip, then nodded at the window. “But I want to go up and make sure Paarthurnax agrees. I was thinking I'd take Inkahlok with me, just as an example. But that means I'll be gone for a few days. I'm counting on you to take care of Sulpaazov and Gaafyahzin.” Derkeethus' eyes widened, and he leaned forward.

“You want me to what?” he echoed. Finn laughed, reaching across the table for his hands.

“I've been here long enough that you know how to take care of them, Derkeethus,” she assured him. “If they get anxious while I'm away, just feed them a little more than you usually do. It'll be fine.” The Argonian feebly rested his head on the table.

“Every time I think you can't get more insane, Finn...” he began, before sitting up sharply. “Okay, fine. I'll take care of your dragons. You'd better run up that damn mountain, you hear me?” The girl laughed openly now, finishing off her steak and flashing Derkeethus a thumbs-up.

“Of course, my friend. With all my might.”

When Gaafyahzin returned from his hunt, Finn pulled on her boots and slung a cloak around her newly-armored shoulders. It felt like months since she had worn proper steel, and the tension in her shoulders was unfamiliar.

“Monah,” Inkahlok called from his perch on the railing. “Do I get to fly today?” Finn reached out to rub his back, shaking her head.

“Not yet,” she replied firmly, smiling all the same. “We have to say goodbye first.” She turned back to the doorway, where Sulpaazov and Gaafyahzin crowded around Derkeethus' legs. “We'll be back soon,” she promised, stroking each dragon's nose. “No fire, understand? Nid yol.”

“Geh, monah,” the two hatchlings responded. Derkeethus forced a nervous smile, looking between them before eying Finn once more.

“Take care of yourself,” he said. “I'm not ready to be a father if you die.” Finn grinned back, pulling him in for a tight hug.

“Don't worry,” she assured him. “I'll be back in no time. Trust me.” As she began down the steps, Inkahlok stretched his wings eagerly, and clicked his tongue.

“Monah?” he asked again. Finn closed her eyes, the smile still on her lips, and nodded.

“Geh, Inkahlok. You can fly. Don't get too far ahead of me.” The enthusiastic dragon immediately took off, soaring above the treeline, and his mother broke into a run below, looking up as they started into the woods.

“Lok...vah koor!”

It didn't matter, Finn decided despairingly as she stumbled up the Throat of the World. Even her Thu'um was barely standing up to the rage of the storm she had walked into, and the winds would always return stronger and angrier than before. Her tears were freezing on her cheeks, and her cloak was whipping around her ankles, threatening to trip her. Inkahlok had long since vanished in the clouds, and she knew if he was calling for her, she wouldn't be able to hear over the howl of the wind.

“Lok vah koor!” she Shouted again, feeble as it was. In the moment of solace, she heard a faint roar, and her dragon swooped down, wings up to shield him from the snow.

“Monah!” he said worriedly, nuzzling her stomach with his large snout. “Climb on my back.” Finn frowned, eying his scaly neck. She had ridden Odahviing before, on her journey to Skuldafn...but Odahviing was a grown dragon, full-sized and strong. “Nid tiid, monah!” The winds were returning, powerful as ever, and Finn slung a leg over Inkahlok's neck, gripping his horns tightly as he flung himself upwards, out of the storm's reach.

When they were comfortably airborne, the Breton relaxed, swinging her legs at either side and looking down at the swirling clouds. She was relieved to see the peak of the mountain just ahead, and leaned forward to stroke her dragon's head.

“You've gotten strong, kiir. Strong enough to carry me,” she said proudly. Inkahlok began to circle the peak, calling in welcome as he descended.

“You are not heavy, monah,” he replied, flapping his wings wildly before hitting the ground. Finn clambered off of his neck and looked up to find herself under Paarthurnax's beady gaze.

“I see the storm caused you and yours no trouble, Dovahkiin,” he remarked. Finn smiled sheepishly, laying a hand on Inkahlok's wing.

“My kiir has gotten stronger,” she reiterated. “He offered to carry me.” Inkahlok hummed in agreement. “I have a reason for being here, of course,” the Breton continued, stepping forward. “The three of them have gotten large...strong, too. They hunt well and bring back good prey. Their Voices are improving every time I can have them practice.” She paused, looking back at her hatchling. “They're...not as big as I would like, but they're outgrowing our home. They won't be able to stay much longer.”

“You think they are ready for the journey.” It was more of an affirmation than a question, and Finn could only nod in response.

“As ready as they can be. If they stay much longer, I don't think they'll be safe anymore,” she confirmed. Her legs suddenly felt weak, and she took a seat in the snow. “Wh...what do you think, Paarthurnax? You'd know better than I would.” Paarthurnax looked wordlessly at Inkahlok, who had approached his mother curiously.

“Hmm...it is a krin monah that can recognize when it is time to part,” he said thoughtfully. “It is time, Dovahkiin. You may have a week more with them, to prepare them for the journey.” After a moment's hesitation, he spoke again. “This is not where your relationship with them ends.”

“You've told me,” Finn mumbled, wrapping her arms around Inkahlok's neck. The dragon clicked worriedly, resting his head in her lap as she allowed tears to fall. “Please...excuse me if I stay here a little longer. Just to...catch my breath.” Paarthurnax watched her sob against Inkahlok's scales, and hummed again.

“Krosis, Dovahkiin,” he murmured. “I am not a mother, but I understand this sadness. My apologies.”

Oooh oooh oooh! I am so happy to see this updated. I have always loved this fill. *smiles and rocks in place*

*flaps hands wildly* An update, an update, an update~!!!

Aieee! I'm going to cry myself when they leave!

Have heart, A!Anon! RL cannot keep you away from writing forever!

Ulfric had barely settled on his throne for the day when the courier burst into the main hall. Red-faced and out of breath, he jogged to the Jarl's seat, only to drop to a knee before him.

“My...my Jarl,” he wheezed. “An urgent letter for you. Let me just...” As he rooted through the bag on his hip, Ulfric leaned forward, eyebrows raised.

“Who is it from?” he asked. The courier finally procured the letter triumphantly.

“One of your Thanes, my Jarl. Finn, at Darkwater Crossing. She paid me extra to get this to you quickly.” Handing over the letter, he bowed and departed, leaving Ulfric to tear into the paper. His already pounding heart only quickened when he read Finn's scrawl, and he quickly leaped to his feet.

“Galmar!” he shouted, striding into the war room. “I'm traveling. You and Jorleif are to take matters into your own hands until I come back. No executions, am I clear?”

“Always,” Galmar chuckled, only to frown a moment later. “Hold a moment, Ulfric. Where are you going? How long are you leaving this to me?!” Ulfric was already halfway up the stairs by then, and the general could barely hear him call over his shoulder.

“A week at most! I have faith in you, Galmar!” In the silence that followed, the old Nord chuckled, shaking his head.

“You bastard...” he grumbled, good-natured all the same. He didn't know where his friend was headed...but there was no question as to who he was headed to.

It was the dead of night when Derkeethus heard the tell-tale knock. Finn was asleep by then, curled up in a ball with Gaafyahzin's head resting on her hip. Inkahlok lifted his head, eyes narrowed, as the Argonian opened the door.

“Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak,” he said, bowing his head slightly. “Welcome to Darkwater Crossing.” Ulfric nodded cautiously, trying to sneak a glance over the stranger's shoulder.

“You must be Derkeethus,” he replied. “Finn told me a lot about you. She said you were trustworthy.” He paused, coughing uncomfortably. “I...am in your debt for protecting them.” Derkeethus hummed, barely concealing his surprise. From what he had heard, it was a strange day indeed when the Jarl of Windhelm thanked an Argonian for something. But it had been a strange day indeed when three dragons showed up at his doorstep.

“Come inside,” he offered, pulling the door open. When Ulfric entered, Inkahlok leaped to his feet, nearly knocking over a table in his attempt to get to his father.

“Bormah!” he cheered, knocking the Jarl to the ground and resting his snout on his shoulder. Ulfric stroked the dragon's scaly back, laughing quietly.

“There's my Inkahlok...gods, you've gotten big,” he sighed, shifting so that the heavy creature on his lap was a bit more comfortable to bear. “I've missed you, boziik kiir.”

“I've missed you too, bormah,” Inkahlok murmured, squirming free from his grasp. “Everyone is here!” Sure enough, Sulpaazov was stirring, clicking in sleepy confusion as she lifted her head, but Gaafyahzin and Finn slept on. Softening, Ulfric took a seat at the side of the bed, stroking the Breton's messy hair and leaning down to plant a kiss on the side of her face.

“Time to wake up, mother of dragons,” he whispered. Finn's eyes opened abruptly, and she rolled onto her back so quickly that Gaafyahzin awoke with a startled hiss.

The next moment, Ulfric was on the ground again, barreled over by the force of the small girl's embrace. Finn buried her face in his chest, trembling, and the Nord squeezed her gently.

“It's so good to see you again,” he murmured into her hair. Her grip on him only tightened, and she nodded.

“I missed you so, so much,” she said tearfully, her voice muffled but audible. “Ulfric...you have no idea.” As their dragons chattered and swarmed around them, she pulled back, smiling weakly up at him. “Welcome home.”

Aww,so sweet. I love this fill, and am glad for the reunion with Ulfric.

Oh my goodness!!! I just found this and I can't stop reading. Well, I had to stop because I'm just sitting here waiting for the next wonderful part. Bravo and well done and... oh just hurry up and continue!

I found this today, it's a wonderful story, fantastic! I loved Finn and Ulfric ...... and their beautiful children-dragon! Please give us another great chapter! is beautiful ... I have tears in a bottle!

Ulfric awoke the following morning to the sound and scent of salmon sizzling in a pot. He sat up laboriously, catching the attention of the Argonian clearing off the table.

“Ah. Good morning, my Jarl,” Derkeethus said. “Would you like some salmon on toast? I'm sure it's nothing like what you eat in Windhelm, but Finn told me you're a fan of fish.” The Jarl in question rose shakily to his feet, nodding slowly as he went.

“That sounds delicious. Thank you,” he replied, suppressing a yawn. “Where is everyone?”

“Outside,” his host answered shortly, hurrying back to the fireplace. “These days, the dragons are restless indoors. They're likely hunting right now, and Finn is likely eating breakfast on the porch and listening to them.” In the uncomfortable silence that followed, Ulfric cleared his throat, looking around the small, dangerously wooden cabin.

“I'm glad you haven't had any trouble keeping them here,” he admitted, trying to lighten the mood. “As a hatchling, Inkahlok once set an entire store of alchemy ingredients on fire.” Derkeethus nodded, allowing himself a light smile as he brought the meal to his guest.

“Yes, it's been no small miracle,” he agreed, handing over the plate. “Your breakfast, my Jarl.”

“You don't need to call me 'my Jarl' if you don't want to,” Ulfric offered as he took the dish. “Any friend of Finn's is a friend of mine. You can call me 'Ulfric.'” Derkeethus winced now, turning back to the fire.

“That doesn't feel quite right for me,” he replied bashfully. “Enjoy your meal.”

Finn could hear her children calling to each other. It was a faint sound, barely carried to her by the breeze, but she could make out hints of their native language as they searched for prey and entertainment. In retrospect, it was amazing that she had never realized that dragons, alone or in groups, spoke as they flew.

Behind her, she heard the soft squeak of the door's hinges, then heavy yet tentative footsteps. She turned just in time for Ulfric to join her, leaning against the railing and looking out into the forest.

“They sound hungry,” he remarked. Finn nodded and slid up to his side.

“They're always hungry these days, it seems. Especially Sulpaazov. Last week, she ate an entire bear on her own. Fur and everything!” She shook her head, still bemused by the memory. “Thankfully none of them have gone after a mammoth yet. I've seen giants take down a dragon.” Ulfric frowned down at her, trying to imagine the battle, then shook his head.

“Are you going to tell me why you brought me here soon, Finn?” he finally asked. “Your letter sounded urgent. I thought somebody had gotten hurt.” The Breton kept her eyes down now, her small hands tight around the railing as she steeled herself.

“I...wanted to tell you in person,” she began, forcing her eyes up. “I went to see Paarthurnax.” Ulfric closed his eyes.

“...You did,” he echoed with a sigh. “They're ready, aren't they, Finn?” Finn nodded wordlessly, and the Jarl's shoulders slumped. “I...I see. How soon?”

“Paarthurnax gave me a week. That was two days ago.” The girl paused, placing a hand gently on his arm. “I wanted you to be there to see them off with me.”

“I wouldn't miss it,” Ulfric replied firmly, before faltering. “But...you're certain there's no other way?” Finn looked up at him, surprised, then laughed openly.

“Well, listen to you!” she chortled, slipping under his arm and looking up tenderly. “Trying all this time to tell me you're 'not their bormah,' and here you are--” The rest of her sentence was cut off by a kiss, and she grinned, wrapping her arms around him. By the time Ulfric pulled back, they were both breathless and tearful, and the Nord settled for resting his chin on her head.

“You know there are certain things I don't like to say out loud,” he murmured into her hair. Finn hummed her agreement, closing her eyes and listening for a moment to his heartbeat and the distant, pleased roars of three dragons as they swooped towards their breakfast.

“Then use these five days to remind me,” she answered softly.

The night before their last day in Darkwater Crossing, Ulfric Stormcloak found himself restless. Sitting up again, he looked uncomfortably around the darkened cottage. Derkeethus lay motionless in his own bed, his back to them, and the dragons sprawled across the floor in various stages of sleep. Finn lay curled up at his side, her back to the wall and her small hands tucked under her head. Ulfric smoothed her hair out of her face and lay down again, taking in the girl's smooth, peaceful face. It was a face he had seen a thousand different ways—contorted with rage and concentration in battle, streaked with tears while mourning the youth of her dragons, bright and grinning for whatever mischievous reason she had conjured up. He knew the curves of her lips, the scrapes and marks on her forehead, the gleaming eyes that were closed to him at the moment.

And all at once, it overwhelmed him.

“Finn,” he whispered, placing a hand on her cheek. “Are you awake?”

“Mm,” the Breton hummed in response, her eyes blinking slowly open. “I think so.” Even in the dark, she could see her Jarl's face scrunched in discomfort. “Are you okay?”

“I'm okay,” Ulfric confirmed, pulling his sweaty palm from her face and resting it on her clothed shoulder instead. Finn glanced at it, smiling nervously as she pressed her own hand to his forehead.

“You're warm,” she continued, half-teasing and half-concerned. “You look sick.”

“I love you.”

In the silence that followed, Ulfric immediately cursed himself silently for his clumsy timing. Finn pulled her hand away, her fingertips lingering on his cheek before she did.

“Is that why you're sick?” she asked, giggling. Next to the bed, Inkahlok shifted, and his mother quickly bit her lip. “There's a pitcher of water on the dining table, if you get any warmer. Sleep well.” She closed her eyes again, and Ulfric's shoulders relaxed, relieved. His love hadn't said a word, but he wouldn't pretend he hadn't noticed her shift so that she could sleep closer to him. And anyone could see the smile gracing her lips as she drifted back off to sleep.

“I...do not understand, monah.”

Finn's entire body seemed to slump, and she bowed her head, fighting back tears. Seated by the water with her three dragons, she had explained the next day's journey the best she could, but Inkahlok had voiced his confusion almost immediately. At the Breton's side, Ulfric spoke up.

“It's not easy to understand, I know,” he began haltingly. Sulpaazov seemed to understand fully, as she stared wistfully into the nearby forest, while Gaafyahzin shifted uncomfortably on his rock. “Those living here are afraid of dragons, kiirre. You can protect yourselves, but you can also live safely in Valenwood.”

“Land of the fahliille,” Finn chimed in, having regained her composure. “They're comfortable with all manner of creatures there, and they can accept dragons in a way Skyrim can't. Paarthurnax can make sure of that.”

“Will we see you again?” Sulpaazov asked, lifting her head again. “Monah, bormah, I cannot accept this as farewell.” The girl smiled weakly, reaching to press a hand to the dragon's scaly nose.

“I will walk to Valenwood barefoot if that's what it'll take to see my kiirre again,” she replied boldly. Gaafyahzin rose with a shake of his wings and moved closer to his family.

“If it is best for our life, then I follow the onikaan of my monah,” he said. His grasp of the Common language had surpassed that of his siblings, Finn noted tearfully. Inkahlok moved closer as well, clicking in agreement and looking up at Ulfric.

“Such a long flight,” he remarked, stretching out his large wings. His father nodded wordlessly, looking once more at his family as they gathered on this flat stone by the water.

“I have nothing but faith in you three,” he assured them. “Nothing but faith that you could fly across the entire universe if you needed to.”

When Derkeethus closed his front door and approached the group near his porch, emotions were high as he had expected. Hrefna was dwarfed by the dragons by now, yet she still walked freely among them, planting a kiss on each nose as she said her goodbyes.

“When I'm big, I'm going to come and see you,” she promised, resting both hands on Gaafyahzin's head. “Be safe, okay? Don't eat anything you shouldn't.” The dragon clicked appreciatively, nuzzling the child's stomach.

“You as well,” he agreed. “Become strong enough to fly on my back when I see you next.” Hrefna beamed, and kissed the top of his head once more before hurrying over to Finn.

“You visit us too!” she commanded, throwing her arms around the Breton's waist. “You're not leaving Skyrim, you have to come back and see us!” Finn laughed, scooping the girl into her arms.

“Of course, Hrefna, you'll see me again soon,” she promised. The girl then looked up at Ulfric, tilting her head a little. She had always been suspicious of the leader of the rebellion, but in person, he wasn't nearly as frightening as she had imagined. He was shorter, too.

“Thanks for taking care of them, Jarl Ulfric,” she finally said, bowing her head before moving towards Derkeethus. The Argonian looked among the group, unsure what to say.

“Do you have everything you need? I can make you some more food, it's a long trip,” he began. Finn shook her head, smiling warmly.

“Please, don't trouble yourself. You've given us more than enough.” She grinned, taking her friend by the arms. “What do you think, Derkeethus? It'll be nice to have some quiet in the house again, don't you think?” Derkeethus huffed, looking down at where the dragons were stretching out their large wings. He hadn't had much experience with hatchlings, but they certainly looked strong enough to fly across the continent.

“It'll take some getting used to,” he replied, shaking his head. “I'll miss the little brats, now that you've gone and gotten me used to having them around.” The Breton threw her arms around him, giving him a comforting squeeze and resting her head on his shoulder.

“Thank you for everything, Derkeethus. I owe you more than I can even begin to think of,” she murmured. Her friend returned the embrace.

“You don't owe me a thing, Finn. Travel safely, will you? I want to see you again soon.” Finn nodded, pulled away, and wiped her eyes.

“You will,” she assured him, turning to her family. “Is everybody ready?” She was met with a noisy chattering from her children and a wordless nod from Ulfric, and smiled broadly. “Okay. We've got a lot of walking to do, so you three are free to fly--”

“Fly as well, monah,” Inkahlok interrupted her, tucking in his wings. Sulpaazov approached her father in the same vein, offering her back to him. Ulfric's eyes widened as he watched Finn swing her leg over the dragon's broad neck.

“Are you certain you can carry me?” he asked Sulpaazov lowly, looking at the girl as she adjusted to her new steed. “If you get tired, let me off.”

“Geh, bormah. I can do it,” the dragon assured him.

“Inkahlok's done it before, don't worry!” Finn called over in agreement, her voice mixing in with the beating of leathery wings as Inkahlok and Gaafyahzin lifted from the ground. “They're strong enough!” Ulfric nodded once and climbed onto the remaining dragon's back, gripping tightly as he was taken away from solid land. Derkeethus and Hrefna, calling their goodbyes, grew smaller and smaller, as did Darkwater Crossing, until the three dragons and their parents were cutting through the cold air, wings beating as they moved towards the Throat of the World.

The air was freezing and the sun starting to set when the small family landed at the peak of the mountain. Paarthurnax had watched them circle above him without a word, and only spoke when Finn and Ulfric had dismounted and Ulfric had fallen face-first into the snow.

“I imagine you have never ridden a dovah before,” the elder dragon remarked, watching the man struggle back to his feet. “Give yourself time, we have plenty.” Finn smiled as she helped him to his feet, hoisting his arm around her shoulders.

“Your legs are asleep,” she added cheerfully. Their own dragons gathered around them, clicking curiously as they watched their bormah stumble towards the Word Wall.

“How do legs sleep?” Inkahlok asked. Before either human could reply, Paarthurnax spread his wings, landing on the ground in front of them.

“The speech of the julle will always confuse me as well. How do you fare, kiirre? We have a long journey ahead,” he said. Finn felt a familiar lump in her throat, and clasped her hands together as Gaafyahzin spoke.

“We are ready, Paarthurnax. Our monah has prepared us well.” Paarthurnax nodded slowly, humming as he observed the first tears falling from the Breton's eyes.

“You have prepared them well,” he agreed. “They will be safe, Dovahkiin. But I can understand why you mourn.” Finn nodded, unable to speak, and covered her face as Ulfric's arm tightened around her. The hatchlings turned back, hurrying to her and speaking at once as they nuzzled her legs.

“Monah, we will meet again!”

“Do not grieve for us, monah!”

“We will think of you, always!”

The force of their perceived affection soon knocked the two to the ground, and Finn couldn't help but laugh through her tears, embracing her hatchlings as they clambered over them.

“I know, kiirre brit, I know...gods, I am so proud of you all...my hunne...” she whispered. Ulfric smiled as well, reaching to stroke Gaafyahzin's back as he approached them.

“Our kiirre...” he echoed, unsure what more to say. “You will...be in my thoughts for the rest of my life.” There was silence for a moment, interrupted only by Finn's weak giggling and the clicking of the dragons, and Ulfric looked up to see Paarthurnax nodding his stoic approval.

“The journey will not take longer than two weeks,” he rumbled. “Return to this peak then, and I will tell you what happened, young parents.” Finn nodded, letting her hands drop away from the dragons at last and rising to her feet.

“I'll be here,” she promised, biting her lip. “...I'm ready, Paarthurnax.” The ancient dragon spread his wings and lifted himself from the ground, roaring once towards the sky.

“Then, kiirre, we depart. Join me, and we will greet Valenwood with the new day!” he announced. The dragons looked up in awe, before turning back to Finn, who was openly crying even as she spoke.

“Go on, my kiirre,” she agreed. “Bo. Fly.” The younger dragons took off as well, roaring as they circled the peak of the mountain before finding their place under Paarthurnax's wings. Finn and Ulfric stood in silence, huddling together for warmth and watching the group of dragons grow smaller, smaller...smaller. Their hands tightly holding, they both felt the same pride, knowing that there would be little issue on the trip to their new home. Surprisingly, there was no fear in the air.

“We should do this again,” Ulfric murmured musingly, looking off into the sky long after the four had disappeared from view. Finn leaned into his chest.

“We should find more baby dragons?”

“You should marry me,” the Jarl corrected, “and we could live this again with children of our own.” Finn rolled her eyes affectionately, tightening her grip on his hand as they looked off the edge of the mountain.

“I think I want to recover before I start pushing out kids,” she teased. “But marriage...that's in the cards, Ulfric Stormcloak. That's in the cards.”

The orange sky turned to blue before they stopped looking at the sky and started down the mountain once again.

A/N: Holy crap, I can't believe I finished this! It's been a really long time since I updated this, so a lot of the more regular readers are gone now, but if you stumble across this—thank you for the chance to write one of my favorite fills, and I hope you enjoyed! Cheers!

De!Anoning to tell you I've been following this fic from the beginning and I absolutely adored it. THank you so much, A!Anon!

So this is two years later but I remember this fic when it was still going and my feels :'(

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