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>When posting prompts, always remember to add kinks you're both looking for and wanting to avoid in a potential fill.
>When filling, please remember to add your story tags: characters, relationship types, kinks, series and universe (ie: skyrim)
>Our character limit here at LJ is 4300.
>If you have any other questions about posting, visit the HOW TO KINK MEME THREAD, under the Page Summary on your left.
Chaos at the Hearth [1/?]
Date: 2013-12-10 08:41 pm (UTC)Kinks: Humor, fluff, marriage, family
Relationships: Het, gen
Summary: Coming home after several days of adventuring is something the Dragonborn always looks forward to, especially now that she has adopted children. However, the idyllic family life isn’t exactly what greets her when she returns to her once-beautiful manor…
My face fell the instant my homestead came into view. I slowed my horse as I took in the mess strewn around my manor, spotting broken fence pieces, spoiled food, and even someone’s underwear decorating the front lawn. My animals had scattered around the property, with my cow somehow loitering on the balcony above the master bedroom. Initially, I thought another group of bandits had attacked, and panic shot through my limbs when I heard screaming from inside.
“Kharjo, let’s hurry,” I said to my Khajiit follower as I leaped off my horse and sprinted forward on foot.
I heard him do the same, and I drew my glass sword in one hand as an ice spell appeared in my other. The circlet and enchanted robes I wore glowed in response to my adrenaline. Intent on saving my family from whatever disaster had occurred here, I kicked open the front door and charged through the entry room, only to stumble to a halt when I reached the main hall.
Not only did the entire space look like I had repeatedly Shouted Unrelenting Force with wild abandon, a (rather loud) conflict was indeed taking place. Only, it was not so much outside danger as it was a war between angry family members.
Incensed cries and yells assaulted my ears as I watched my Orsimer husband, Ghorbash, swiftly losing his parental leverage. With one arm, he held our thrashing son, Blaise, upside down in the air while the other tried to soothe our crying daughter, Lucia. My jaw dropped when I realized her sable hair had been hacked into uneven chunks, and Ghorbash was actually shaking Blaise like a tambourine in order to get him to drop the iron dagger still in his hands.
None had noticed my less than subtle entrance, engrossed as they were in their arguing and the children’s general proclamations of hatred for each other. Neither my housecarl nor my steward were anywhere to be found, but my bard, Llewellyn, trudged by, nursing a black eye and a sour expression. I sheathed my sword at my hip and gave Kharjo an apologetic look before extending my palm and sending an ice spike into the wooden dining table.
The chaos ceased at once. Several pairs of eyes locked onto me, and as soon as I opened my mouth to ask what in Oblivion had happened here, I found myself interrupted by my children launching themselves at my waist.
“Mama!”
“Ma!”
“I hate Blaise! He’s terrible! Look what he did to my hair!”
“Lucia started it! She pricked my bum with my own dagger!”
“That’s not true!”
“I can prove it!”
And so, in front of the guest I’d hoped to introduce over supper, my charming son whirled around, bent over, and pulled down his trousers, exposing his arse for all to see.
Chaos at the Hearth [2/?]
Date: 2013-12-10 10:55 pm (UTC)“Look! That wound on my right cheek!” Blaise shouted, pointing at a red spot I could barely make out.
“Eww, put your bum away. Though that’s your better end, isn’t it?” Lucia hissed, tears and mucus still pouring from her facial orifices as she clung to me.
“Enough. Blaise, pull your pants back up. Lucia, stop blowing your nose into my robes,” I chastised while sending my spouse a glare that said, what happened here?
Ghorbash, a mighty and esteemed warrior from the Dushnikh Yal stronghold, only shrugged sheepishly and retorted, “I looked away for one second, Efaldra!”
Sighing, I ushered the children toward their room and made a mental note to drill them with manners and etiquette as soon as possible. Had I brought them back as they were to my home city in the Summerset Isles, I would have been the laughingstock of Alinor, Dragonborn or no. Once I sentenced both of them to timeout on opposite sides of the room, I returned to the main hall, only for Lucia to blatantly disobey me by scurrying up to the heavily armed Kharjo.
“A kitty! Mama, I didn’t know you had a kitty! He’s so cute,” she gushed, all evidence of her distress gone. “Can I keep him? Please?”
With horror, I clamped my hands over her mouth and dragged her back to her timeout corner, asking Kharjo to excuse her inadvertently racist remarks. My follower seemed amused more than anything, at least. After telling Lucia to stay put—and promising to fix what I could of her horrid new hairstyle—I wandered back past the fireplace, where Llewellyn was plucking away at his lute with clear bitterness.
“What happened to him?” I inquired when I reached Ghorbash’s side, nodding to the bard’s bruised mug.
My husband grunted and crossed his arms. “Once the calamity started, he suggested that we put the kids back where we found them. So I put him back in his place.”
That certainly knocked my sympathy for Llewellyn down several notches. We listened to his unenthusiastic playing for a few seconds before I glanced around and frowned.
“Where are Rayya and Derkeethus?”
“Your loyal housecarl has been hiding in the cellar, and your steward said something about heading out to purchase more building materials… all the way over in Darkwater Crossing,” Ghorbash replied dryly.
I ran my hand over my face and nodded. “Of course. Well, had Kharjo and I known that there was a Lakeview civil war, we would have gotten some rest before heading here.”
“Yeah…” Ghorbash suddenly rumbled, narrowing his eyes at the Khajiit in the doorway. “So who’s your friend, Efaldra?”
I recognized the wary and aggressive tone, and I hurried to put a stop to my spouse’s jealousy before it spiraled out of control again, such as the time I had brought home a dashing Nord follower. Vorstag still refused to talk to me on account of the beating he had received after making one too many appreciative comments about my chest in front of Ghorbash. Fortunately, Kharjo was the most platonic follower I’d run into thus far.
“This is Kharjo, and no, I am not his type, he has no interest in getting acquainted with my cleavage, and you are not to contact the Circle and have them chase him around in beast form for your amusement,” I declared, already sensing the devious ideas that popped into his head.
Ghorbash huffed, glowering at Kharjo in warning. “Fine. But I’m keeping my eye on you, cat.”
Re: Chaos at the Hearth [2/?]
Date: 2013-12-10 11:15 pm (UTC)Re: Chaos at the Hearth [2/?]
Date: 2013-12-10 11:36 pm (UTC)A!A
Date: 2013-12-12 12:29 am (UTC)Just now starting work on the next part, but it'll be up soon.
Re: A!A
Date: 2013-12-12 12:57 pm (UTC)Chaos at the Hearth [3/?]
Date: 2013-12-13 03:51 am (UTC)The rest of the afternoon went by… no less chaotically.
Following their timeout session, Blaise and Lucia grabbed several tokens of my affection that I had lovingly set next to their beds and flung them at each other. Gems, rare books, and custom pieces of armor I’d paid good money for became makeshift ballistics. It took both Ghorbash and myself to put a stop to the rapid rate of fire, and only when I threatened to relocate the family to the cramped quarters of Breezehome did the children stalk off in different directions. A headache crawled its way through my temples as my spouse grabbed the nearest liquor bottle and plopped himself into a nearby chair.
“Who knew raising kids could be so exhausting?” he wheezed, pouring himself a drink. “I once went three training days without resting during my time in the Legion. Ten minutes with these two rugrats, and I’m ready to take a nap.”
“Maybe parents develop some kind of special stamina when they start with babies,” I mused. “We must have missed that crucial metamorphosis by going the adoption route.”
Ghorbash leered at me. “So should we try for a baby once all this dragon business is finished? Start the whole childrearing thing from the beginning?”
The suggestion brought warmth to my face, and I sent him my best sultry smile as I prepared to deliver a coy response.
Unfortunately, my flirtatious moment was ruined by a new commotion resounding from the main hall. Exhaling in vexation, I crossed babies off the to-make list for the time being and spun around to stomp out. A skeever greeted me from my dining table, and despite Llewellyn’s best efforts to smash it with his lute, it scurried around evading the attacks until it made the decision to leap straight at me.
The stream of flames that surged from my hand barbecued it in midair, and its charred corpse hit the wall next to me as a shrill howl suddenly filled the entire manor.
“Why would you do that?” Blaise shrieked from the other side of the table. “I was going to ask if I could keep it as a pet. I’m never speaking to you again!”
And off he went in an overdramatic display of anguish that raised questions about his masculinity.
Kharjo sauntered over to stand next to me, feline features set in an observant expression. “This has been… very enlightening.”
“Indeed,” I answered with deep dismay. “I was naïve to think that perhaps this would be one time my family didn’t completely embarrass me.”
“Hey! Back up from my wife before I turn you into a fur rug, Cargo!” Ghorbash barked from the bedroom.
My fingers came up to pinch the bridge of my nose in a pose of weariness as I addressed my follower. “If you can find a section of the manor that isn’t teeming with hostility or insanity, please feel free to make yourself at home,” I told him. “And we will spend only one night here, I promise. Any longer, and I’ll be far too tired to bother facing the World-Eater.”
Chaos at the Hearth [4/?]
Date: 2013-12-14 07:53 pm (UTC)I took a few blessed minutes of peace to myself, unloading the items from my pack into the safes and chests surrounding the forge. A self-professed hoarder, I produced animal pelts, ingots, daggers, and potions that should have been physically impossible to all fit into the simple traveling bag I lugged around with me on my adventures. I was halfway through my obsessive-compulsive organizing when the surface over my head suddenly shook from a loud impact. Cursing, I dropped the ingots I was arranging in alphabetical order and dragged myself to the ladder leading back to the manor.
The interior had been evacuated, but the telltale sounds of a battle waging outside brought new speed to my movements. Dashing to the open entrance, I came upon the sight of my follower, my spouse, my bard, and my housecarl taking on an incensed giant that had murdered all of my chickens. So busy was I mourning for my deceased poultry, that the members of my household managed to kill the giant without my help.
“While I would never question your priorities, my Thane, I’m surprised at your concern for the chickens when the children are in hysterics over there,” Rayya commented in a flat tone, pointing to Blaise and Lucia quivering in the stables.
“Of course the children are first on my mind,” I sputtered as my face flushed. Leaning down, I grabbed the chickens and shoved them at her. “Here. You might as well add them to the meal. Now back to the kitchen with you.”
Once again demoted from guardian warrior to domestic chef, Rayya took the birds and made her disgruntled way back inside. Llewellyn and Kharjo followed her while Ghorbash herded Blaise and Lucia up the stairs to the balcony on the other side of the manor since they refused to go near the giant’s corpse. It had begun raining, and I had to coax my carriage driver to come in out of the downpour when, for some incomprehensible reason, he stubbornly declined to leave his post.
With everyone inside, I glanced at the dead giant now draped over my doorstep.
Meh. We’ll move that thing later. Bloody chicken-killing savage.
Chaos at the Hearth [5/?]
Date: 2013-12-14 10:35 pm (UTC)Dinner, of course, turned out to be a disastrous event. Rayya stood at the far end of the dining table and unleashed a defensive running documentary about how she was trained for combat, not cooking. After one taste, Kharjo and I silently pushed away our bowls of the concoction trying to pass off as stew. Llewellyn leaped from the table with the declaration that he felt ill, Blaise and Lucia outright spat their mouthfuls at each other, and Ghorbash stomped to the kitchen with the intention of preparing a meal that was at least edible. The carriage driver, Gunjar, who had waited for everyone else’s reactions before tasting the stew, set his spoon down, looking smug.
“Damn it, Derkeethus,” I muttered to myself as the space erupted with louder chatter and arguing. “Now would be a fantastic time to have my steward hire an in-house chef. How do the children even eat while I’m gone?”
When Llewellyn returned to the main hall, I barked at him to play something that would hopefully distract people enough to prevent further mayhem.
“What would you like me to play?”
“For the love of the Nines, I don’t care, just hurry up and let me hear something besides all this quarreling,” I snapped, rubbing my temples.
He picked up his flute just as Blaise and Lucia decided on using their spoons as catapults for Rayya’s food. My offended housecarl remained in her spot with her arms folded over her chest, and Kharjo was kind enough to help me separate the wayward siblings to different wings of the manor. While he carted Blaise over to the storage room, I sat Lucia down in the kitchen, where Ghorbash muttered about how ridiculous it was for a woman to utterly fail at something so simple and domestic like making stew.
“I just don’t understand,” he griped, throwing leeks and peeled potatoes into a pot of boiling beef stock. “The men over in Dushnikh Yal would make better wives than your housecarl, Efaldra.”
“Well, in her defense, she did state that she hadn’t been taught the art of domesticity. I’m no four star chef myself.”
“Yeah, but you’ve got your looks going for you.” My husband sent me an impish wink and a tusk-filled grin.
Despite my sheer exhaustion, I chuckled. “You, sir, are biased.”
Lucia stared back and forth between us during the exchange and wrinkled her nose. “Ew. I knew this about Papa because he’s always making goo-goo eyes when you come home, Mama, but I expected better of you. Just, eww…”
And then I, the Dragonborn of legend, was accused of having cooties.
Chaos at the Hearth [6/6] [END]
Date: 2013-12-14 11:43 pm (UTC)Blaise, in a fit of childish mischief, ran away wearing only his underwear when Ghorbash attempted to give him his evening bath. In the next room, I fared worse with Lucia, who, upon seeing her reflection in the bathwater, wailed like a banshee and threw a temper tantrum that both Rayya and I failed to restrain. This went on for the better part of a half hour until we decided to just sort of dunk her into the basin a few times and call it sufficient.
Both children put up a fight when we tucked them into their beds. Eventually, all the adults ended up in the bedroom, trying to convince them to go to sleep.
“But Mama, you’ll be gone by the morning, won’t you?” Lucia pouted from under the frilly white nightcap she insisted on wearing for the next several months.
“Yeah, we don’t want to fall asleep when we don’t know when you’ll be back,” Blaise added, evidently having gotten over his anger at me.
Their unhappy faces tugged at my heartstrings, and I found myself torn between duty and parental love. Kharjo stepped forward at that moment, offering to tell them a few bedtime stories of his homeland that would carry them over until I returned. I sent him a grateful look when they accepted, and I had Llewellyn play some soft background music as we settled in to listen. The atmosphere finally winded down to a calm quality, with Kharjo’s lilting, accented voice weaving together the tales of Elseweyr.
Ghorbash took my hand and entwined our fingers as Blaise and Lucia’s eyelids grew heavy. Once Kharjo finished the last story and Llewellyn plucked the final few notes on his lute, I stood and planted a kiss on each child’s forehead. The adults tiptoed out, and I was about to shut the doors and thank the Divines for the peace and quiet I so desperately needed.
The front entrance banged open.
“I have returned!” Derkeethus’s voice announced. “By the way, did you all know there’s a dead giant out in the front?”
NO!
My heart plummeted when the children’s eyes instantly popped open. Our achievements in the past twenty minutes came undone as they shot out of their beds and barreled past me to greet my friendly Argonian steward—whom I now wanted to kill.
“Derkeethus! Derkeethus! What took you so long?” they chirped.
“Damn it, lizard!” Ghorbash roared from downstairs. “Efaldra and I were able to get these two to sleep at last, then you come in and just ruin everything!”
“Oh, she’s here?” was Derkeethus’s nonchalant reply. “Excellent! I need to let her know I borrowed one of her horses, which, sadly, didn’t make it on the journey back…”
“She will be most displeased,” Kharjo remarked. “I have seen how she reacts when her equines die.”
“And who might you be?”
The volume of noise escalated as everyone began talking at once, and above the new ruckus, Llewellyn called, “Should I play something again, mistress?”
I stayed frozen on the spot in front of the children’s bedroom, fuming and too livid to respond.
“Derkeethus, I need another opinion on this stew I made earlier.” Rayya’s voice joined the fray. “Perhaps the Argonian digestive system will have better luck with it.”
“Don’t do it,” Gunjar warned. “That culinary abomination is better off as poison.”
“Say that again, carriage driver,” Rayya snarled.
When all the bickering reached an intolerable crescendo, I commanded my legs to walk… out the north balcony and down the stairs to escape the manor. I came upon an amateur conjurer at some ritual stones down by the lake, and I absentmindedly zapped him to death when he turned hostile. Sighing, I sat next to the skeleton he’d laid out on an altar in the middle of the stone circle, weary beyond my mind.
However, I had found silence and tranquility at last.
“You’re the only one who understands me,” I said to the skeletal remains of some unfortunate soul. “The quiet is best. Now move. This is the only place around here where I can get some rest.”
Re: Chaos at the Hearth [6/6] [END]
Date: 2013-12-15 02:16 am (UTC)Re: Chaos at the Hearth [6/6] [END]
Date: 2013-12-16 04:52 pm (UTC)