I Used to be an Adventurer Like You…
By
Stargazer Nataku
The door to the mead hall closed behind Vilkas as he stepped out into the midsummer twilight. He went down the stairs before the hall, ignoring the priest of Talos and his shouted sermon, his voice shaking with age and weariness. He passed under the spreading leaves of the new Gildergreen, growing quickly now with the summer warmth, and went down through the market, his step quickening when he saw that there was light streaming from the windows of Breezehome. She had made it home, just as she said she would, not a day behind what she had promised.
As he walked down the street, several children came running past him, laughing as the last tried to catch the other two, the impromptu game of tag causing them to nearly knock him over. He shook his head, stepping around them and up to the door to the home he shared with his wife. "Welcome back," he said as he came through the door, a smile playing about his face: a smile that froze in as he caught a view of his wife standing by the fire, stirring a pot set off the flames, a small bundle supported in one muscular, armor-free arm. Whatever she was holding moved a little, squirming. "What is that?" he asked, his smile turning to a frown of confusion.
She had looked up upon his entrance. Looking at him almost—was that uncertainty in her eyes?—she spoke. "It's a baby, love," she answered.
He was considered the smart one between himself and his brother, yet his usually active mind seemed turned to mush at the sight of his wife—the Dragonborn, killer of Alduin World-Eater, who routinely and without thought easily cut down everything from Dragur Deathlords to blood dragons to Alduin himself with her Voice and blade—standing in their kitchen after only a week away with an infant in her arms.
"But," he finally protested. "You haven't been away even close to long enough for…for that."
"What?" she asked, throwing back her head and laughing in a way that made him smile despite his confusion. "It's not ours, Vilkas," she said. "Well, okay, it isn't technically ours, but…you see, I was in Riften, and I was passing by the orphanage when one of the kids started talking to me. And then he asked if I'd take him home since he had no one to look after him, and…well, I know what that's like and… You know I can't resist orphans!"
"But that's a baby," he said. "It can't talk."
"Well, no…" she said, almost hesitantly, another surprise to her husband. Rowan Northwind was never hesitant. "I thought to see if it was possible and I went in, and they all started asking me if I was going to take them home too and…I don't know what came over me, but…I just couldn't leave them there, Vilkas."
Realization started to wash over him. "Love?"
"Yes?" she responded, still hesitant.
"How many of them are there?"
"With the baby?" She cleared her throat. "Six."
"Six!" She nodded. "So those kids playing tag out there…They're ours now?"
"Yes…" Again hesitation. He looked from her, back down to the infant in her arms, then back up to her, meeting her gaze and holding it for a moment. He found it easy, after meeting her worried eyes, to form a smile. "I understand, love."
"So…we can keep them?" she asked.
"Sure," he told her, and was immediately crushed into a hug as best she could with the baby in her arms and himself wearing his armor. When she pulled away, the eyes of the woman who could stare gruesome death in the face without a grimace or a flinch of fear were laughing, full of infectious joy. He found himself smiling in return, despite his still stunned surprise.
"Thank you, my love," she said, reaching up only slightly to kiss him on the cheek. "This…" He remembered her words about her own lonely childhood, how she had been forced to support herself after her father had died, and briefly wondered what his life would have been like if he had not had his brother and Jergen and the rest of the Companions. "Would you like to meet them?"
"Sure, love" he agreed. With a smile, she shifted the infant into one arm, then took his hand and led him to the door.
"Children!" she called, and in an instant five youngsters, including the three who had almost knocked him over, were swarming towards them. He looked them over. Three young Nords, an Imperial boy, and a sharp eyed little girl who reminded him of his wife, if not in face in carriage and in potential looked back. He nodded approval, then glanced at his wife.
"How soon can I start training them?" She answered with the grin he usually only saw when she was preparing to draw her weapon, whether in training or in battle.
"Tomorrow good for you?"
"Tomorrow it is," he agreed as they circled around him for the first time.