Author's note: A!A is incredibly sorry about how long this took! I meant to get it up earlier, and then crazy real-life stuff happened, and then I realized everything I had was awful so I started over and found that these worked much better. I'd hate to get your hopes up and then never publish anything at all. So this is a different format than I'd originally planned, and everything's going up at once. Hope OP enjoys! tags: char:ria, char:vilkas, char:torvar, char:aela, char:njada, char:farkas, char:athis, relationship:gen, kink:fluff, kink:family, kink:friendship
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5th of Midyear, 4E 181
Of all the fun and exciting places for young children to live, Falkreath is not one. Falkreath is small, and quiet, and boring. The only landmark of note is the cemetery, and the other children are few and far between and, for whatever reason, almost all several years older than the youngest child in town.
But Ria doesn't mind.
Ria is five years old with a gap-toothed smile as she chases her older brother through the town, laughing and smiling and maybe wishing she were a bit faster. She's easily the smallest child, and probably still would be even if she weren't so much younger than the others.
But she chases them without fail in their game of tag. She chases Valdr and Lod and Mathies and her own brother, Nereus. She runs down the main path through town as Nereus speeds up to get away and Valdr and Lod slow down to give her a chance to win.
Eventually she catches up with one of them. She catches Lod, who is maybe seven years older than her and has slowed almost to a halt by the time she reaches him. He's panting, and if she weren't so young and so proud of herself she might have noticed how exaggerated his labored breathing is and how his eyes twinkle just a tad. But, as she is young and proud of herself, she calls out You're it and dashes away.
And she laughs.
7th Sun's Dawn, 4E 178
The boy swings his legs under the chair. He's still just short enough that his feet don't quite touch the ground. Farkas is taller, just by a bit, and his feet touch the ground. But Vilkas' feet do not.
If he weren't sick, he might be outside with Farkas right now. Farkas is down playing with the other children in the town square, but Vilkas is sitting in Jorrvaskr. He's read three books this week already, borrowing them from Askar and Kodlak and even Hedvika, Aela's mother. Maybe he'll know all his histories by the time he's seen ten winters, and he'll be smarter than Vignar.
Today, though, he doesn't much feel like reading, and so Mhiralda will teach him to knit.
She's an older woman, a Redguard and member of the Circle. She's sterner than Hedvika, but warmer than Arnbjorn, and probably just as wise as Askar and Kodlak both. She tells him that knitting is an old art from Hammerfell, and that it's much easier than the nalbinding Tilma does in her spare time.
When she promises that strong fingers will make it easier to hold the iron sword he keeps dropping, Vilkas agrees.
So now he sits with a pair of knitting needles in his hands and a messy swatch hanging from them, and he's smiling so much he almost forgets he's sick. It's simple, and he's actually making something. It's not neat and sturdy, like Mhiralda's, but he will practice and he will learn. One day, if he keeps it up, Mhiralda says she will teach him how to make shirts and caps and all sorts of things.
When he's knitted a full square, Mhiralda helps him cast the yarn off the needles. Vilkas tucks the swatch into his pocket, proud of himself and eager to learn more.
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timeasmymeasure
Children and Companions (1/3)
Date: 2014-07-30 07:57 pm (UTC)tags: char:ria, char:vilkas, char:torvar, char:aela, char:njada, char:farkas, char:athis, relationship:gen, kink:fluff, kink:family, kink:friendship
~0~0~0~0~
5th of Midyear, 4E 181
Of all the fun and exciting places for young children to live, Falkreath is not one. Falkreath is small, and quiet, and boring. The only landmark of note is the cemetery, and the other children are few and far between and, for whatever reason, almost all several years older than the youngest child in town.
But Ria doesn't mind.
Ria is five years old with a gap-toothed smile as she chases her older brother through the town, laughing and smiling and maybe wishing she were a bit faster. She's easily the smallest child, and probably still would be even if she weren't so much younger than the others.
But she chases them without fail in their game of tag. She chases Valdr and Lod and Mathies and her own brother, Nereus. She runs down the main path through town as Nereus speeds up to get away and Valdr and Lod slow down to give her a chance to win.
Eventually she catches up with one of them. She catches Lod, who is maybe seven years older than her and has slowed almost to a halt by the time she reaches him. He's panting, and if she weren't so young and so proud of herself she might have noticed how exaggerated his labored breathing is and how his eyes twinkle just a tad. But, as she is young and proud of herself, she calls out You're it and dashes away.
And she laughs.
7th Sun's Dawn, 4E 178
The boy swings his legs under the chair. He's still just short enough that his feet don't quite touch the ground. Farkas is taller, just by a bit, and his feet touch the ground. But Vilkas' feet do not.
If he weren't sick, he might be outside with Farkas right now. Farkas is down playing with the other children in the town square, but Vilkas is sitting in Jorrvaskr. He's read three books this week already, borrowing them from Askar and Kodlak and even Hedvika, Aela's mother. Maybe he'll know all his histories by the time he's seen ten winters, and he'll be smarter than Vignar.
Today, though, he doesn't much feel like reading, and so Mhiralda will teach him to knit.
She's an older woman, a Redguard and member of the Circle. She's sterner than Hedvika, but warmer than Arnbjorn, and probably just as wise as Askar and Kodlak both. She tells him that knitting is an old art from Hammerfell, and that it's much easier than the nalbinding Tilma does in her spare time.
When she promises that strong fingers will make it easier to hold the iron sword he keeps dropping, Vilkas agrees.
So now he sits with a pair of knitting needles in his hands and a messy swatch hanging from them, and he's smiling so much he almost forgets he's sick. It's simple, and he's actually making something. It's not neat and sturdy, like Mhiralda's, but he will practice and he will learn. One day, if he keeps it up, Mhiralda says she will teach him how to make shirts and caps and all sorts of things.
When he's knitted a full square, Mhiralda helps him cast the yarn off the needles. Vilkas tucks the swatch into his pocket, proud of himself and eager to learn more.