Don't own it, blah blah blah.

The carriage rumbled to a stop, jolting Emara from her light doze. It had begun to get cold, as the year turned toward the winter months, and she was bundled up against Farkas in a few furs in the carriage bed. Her husband - she once again marveled at those words as she thought them, and felt an unrestrained smile appear on her face - was fast asleep, his head pillowed on the satchel which held some of the clothes Aela had gifted him as a wedding present, insisting that he was a married man now, he didn't have to wear his armor all the time.

After admiring his scruffy visage in silence for a few moments, she began to wriggle out of his grasp and the encasing furs, only to gasp in surprise as she was suddenly pulled back down. Strong arms twined around her waist, pulling her side up against his muscled chest, and she smiled as his face nuzzled into the thick fall of her hair, his voice rumbling sleepily against her neck. "Where do you think you're off to, wife?"

She laughed softly, turning her head to brush her lips across his stubbled cheek, before murmuring her reply. "The carriage has stopped.. we've arrived at what I wanted to show you. My surprise."

That made him open his eyes, and he grunted in ungracious assent as he released her. "All right. Let's see it, then."

She reluctantly extricated herself from the tangle of limbs and furs a second time, then hopped out of the carriage into a light dusting of snow. Turning to look at her home, their home, she felt a surge of pride again, and turned to Farkas with a beaming smile when he descended from the wagon. He tugged his greatsword free of the contents within, then let his gaze drift across the area, finally landing on the two-story structure of wood and stone. His eyes widened slightly in amazement, before they turned to her, silently asking for an explanation, one she happily supplied as the door opened, producing her housecarl. "I built this.. with the intention of making it our home.. if you said yes. One of the advantages of being Thane of Falkreath, I suppose... And this is Rayya, my housecarl."

"You.. built this. With your own hands." The words were part question, mostly statement, as he looked at her with disbelief. Her timid nod made him grunt in surprise, then he was abruptly coiling his arm around her waist, dipping his head to lightly press his brow against hers. "I was wise to accept you.. you're far stronger than I first realized."

She was clearly pleased by this statement, and blushed as Rayya cleared her throat a few steps away. "I was wise to offer. Come, let's take our things inside."

-x-

Night had long since fallen, Rayya gone to her bed after they'd put all their possessions, newly acquired and not, in their proper places, and eaten a hearty dinner. Farkas came inside, shaking a light fall of snow out of his dark hair, and looked for his wife; a sound from the back room told him she was emerging from the forge, and she soon moved into sight. He admired her, her dark hair tied back at the nape of her neck, her finely muscled form wrapped in leather and fur, a smudge of soot on her cheek. She suddenly noticed him, and stopped, color permeating her features as she saw him looking at her. His lips twisted in slight amusement, and he closed the space that separated them, reaching up to wipe the dark smudge from her skin. "In all the commotion, I didn't get to ask.. why's that room over there closed up?"

She looked where he gestured, to the side of the house opposite the kitchen, and shrugged. "I haven't decided what to do with it yet. Rayya said in the blueprints, it's designated as either greenhouse, or childrens' room." The slight wrinkle of her nose drew a soft huff of mirth from him; he knew what she was going to say next. "Since I'm herbologically impaired, for a Bosmer, a greenhouse is out.. I just haven't decided what to do with it yet."

"Do you.. want children?" He sounded hesitant, and she looked surprised by the question. The skin between her brows crinkled, as it often did when she was thinking, and he didn't try to stop himself from smoothing his thumb across the space, smirking as she absently leaned into his touch.

"I.. don't know, honestly. I've never thought about it before. And with.. what I have to do..." She trailed off, trying to ignore the sudden pall of darkness which seemed to have descended upon their conversation. "..Well, it wouldn't be wise for me to try and.. carry a child. Not now, anyway."

Farkas nodded his understanding. In truth, the thought of a pink, wailing, helpless newborn terrified him. But he remembered something. "There's an orphanage in Riften, remember. So that's always an option."

Something in her eyes softened, and her next words were murmured so quietly, he almost had trouble hearing them. "No.. no, that little girl, who runs around Whiterun, begging... Lucia."

"I remember her. She seemed like a very.. nice child." His awkwardness with the words made her laugh slightly, and she tilted her head forward, leaning it against his shoulder. He stroked her hair for a moment, enjoying the peace between them.

"Would you be okay with that? With adopting a girl, or boy, or.. or maybe both?" She glanced up at him, uncertain, and awaited his response with some apprehension. She liked the thought of saving some urchin from the streets - at least the children in the Riften orphanage had shelter, and clothes, and food in their bellies.

He considered this, looking slightly uncomfortable. He'd never considered raising a child before, or children, but.. it couldn't be that hard, could it? Especially if they were already somewhat capable of taking care of themselves. Slowly, he nodded. "I.. yes. I think that would.. be all right."

Her smile rivaled the hearth's blaze for brilliance, and something inside him clenched pleasantly as he was struck with the sudden urge to kiss her. The intimacy between them had been a very slow thing; she always seemed uncertain about the intricacies of affection and physicality between a man and woman, and he had done little more than hold her since they left Riften nearly three weeks prior.

Now, he cupped her jaw, threading his fingers into her hair and dislodging the strip of rawhide which bound it, and lowered his head. His lips found hers, and although she seemed startled, she didn't stop him. He tilted his head, slanting his lips against hers, and struggled to restrain himself when her mouth opened to him, a breathless sound of pleasure resonating in her throat. He wanted nothing more than to carry her up to their bed on the second floor, and it took every ounce of his considerable will to stop himself doing just that. Instead, he broke away, and looked down at her, delicious innocence incarnate, with her softly swollen lips and flushed cheeks, her big dark eyes dazed and heavy-lidded.

He could definitely get used to this marriage thing.

-x-

Two months later, they returned to Whiterun, she to check on the state of the Companions and to discuss state matters with the Jarl, and he to visit their old friends. Winter had touched Whiterun as well, leaving a light dusting of snow across the streets and lingering on the eaves of houses, and Emara felt a touch of concern as she and Farkas proceeded up the steps into the Wind District. Relief suffused her being as she spotted Lucia sitting on a bench, huddled against the cold in a moth-eaten shawl and nearly worn out shoes. She and Farkas shared a look, before he lightly brushed her hand, and proceeded to Jorrvaskr by himself.

Emara approached the bench were Lucia sat, looking tired, cold, and not a little sad. She seemed to shake herself to liveliness when she saw boots nearing, and looked up, only for her little face to light up at recognizing her former frequent benefactor. "Miss Ema, ma'am! It's been so long since I saw you!" Her little face fell briefly, lips claimed by a frown. "Where did you go?"

"I'm sorry, Lucia. Something came up." She sat on the bench next to the young orphan, removing the thick fur half-cloak about her shoulders, and instead draping it across Lucia's thin form. "I built a house, out in Falkreath hold, and got married. My husband and I have just come from getting settled in there."

Lucia's wide eyes were filled with wonder, and her smile was quick to return. "Oh, but that's wonderful! You must be very happy. I'm happy for you, Miss Ema."

"Thank you, Lucia." Emara chuckled, then hesitated, carefully choosing her words. "You know, Lucia.. I have a room at my house, with two beds, and plenty of space for a little girl, should she choose to fill it."

It took a moment for what she was saying to penetrate, but when it did, Lucia's little eyes grew wide as saucers. She clutched the borrowed cloak around her small shoulders, and dared to hope, just for a moment. "You.. you mean.. you would want to be my Mama, Miss Ema? What about your husband? Would he mind?"

Emara's heart melted. Even if she hadn't already been certain about this, she would have been after that. She nodded, smiling softly as she reached up to lightly place her hand atop Lucia's head. "My husband and I have discussed the idea, and he's quite all right with it. In truth, we would like it very much if you would come to live with us, Lucia."

Tears cleaned a path through the thin layer of grime on Lucia's cheeks, and she hiccuped a quiet sob as she threw herself into Emara's armored frame, her small arms wrapping as much around the armored Bosmer's body as they could. "You won't regret this, Mama! I'll be the best daughter ever!"

"I'm sure you will. Come now." She gently pried Lucia away from her, and a gloved thumb softly wiped the tears from her face, before guiding the child to her feet. "Go on up to Jorrvaskr, and find a man named Farkas; that is my husband. Stay with him until I come to get you. I have some matters to discuss with the Jarl, and I need to see to a few things in the market.. then we can return home to Falkreath."

"I will, Mama. Bye!" Lucia bounced lightly on her toes, then turned and darted up the nearby steps to the ancient mead hall, dwarfed by her new adoptive mother's cloak. Emara watched her go with a sense of deep satisfaction. She had done a good thing.. and it certainly didn't hurt that she genuinely liked that little girl. Her daughter, now.

She had a daughter. Who would have ever expected that?

-x-

Watching Farkas interact with Lucia was, at times, unbearably amusing. He seemed so hesitant, so afraid he would accidentally hurt her, but he always looked so surprised when she would hug him around the waist and call him Papa. The return trip to Falkreath took a bit of time, with the snows beginning to fall more heavily, but once they arrived back at the lake house, it took very little time at all for Lucia to settle in. She exclaimed over everything, and ran around until she was exhausted. Farkas was cleaning up the remains of dinner when Emara carried the half-asleep girl to her very own bed, clutching the doll she'd been given not long before they departed Whiterun. "Mama?"

"Yes, Lucia?" Emara placed the girl in her bed, tugging off her shoes before tugging the covers out from under, then up and over, her nearly boneless body.

"Does Papa not like that I'm a girl?" Her sleepy murmur was nonetheless insistent, and she peered drowsily up at her adoptive mother.

Emara breathed a quiet laugh, sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching over to push soft hair out of Lucia's eyes. "Of course he does. Why would you think that?"

Lucia shrugged, a barely discernible movement beneath her blankets, and continued after a yawn. "He seemed unhappy, when I didn't know what to do with the wooden sword... I like dolls better.. is that bad? Should I be more like you, Mama?"

"No, Lucia." Her tone was firm, but gentle, as she shook her head. "Mama is a very.. different kind of woman. If I had the luxury of playing with dolls, I would be glad for it. You do whatever makes you happy.. I will talk with Papa." She paused, considering, then smiled. "And who knows.. perhaps I'll find a brother for you the next time I go out adventuring."

Lucia smiled at that, but couldn't muster a reply; within moments, she was asleep. Emara watched her for a few minutes, then stood, careful not to disturb her, and snuffed the candle on her nightstand, before moving upstairs. Farkas was sitting on the edge of their bed, prying off his gauntlets, and glanced over his shoulder at her. "You were in there for a while. Is everything all right with Lucia?"

"She thinks you don't like her because she's not a boy and doesn't want to play with swords." Her tone was wry, and she couldn't help a laugh at his choked sound of denial. "It's all right; I told her that wasn't so. However, you are outnumbered. I think perhaps, should I find a little urchin boy who needs a home, I'll bring him back with me."

Farkas tucked his gauntlets into the wardrobe with the rest of his armor, then turned to face her as she reclined on the bed beside him, leaning against her with an inquisitive expression. "Are you sure about that? I mean, we only just brought Lucia back here.. is it too soon?"

She rolled her shoulders in a slight shrug, then gestured almost helplessly with her hands. "I don't know, Farkas. We've been parents only a couple of weeks, now, but.. I really enjoy it. I like thinking that I'm helping to mold a life, to create hope and a future where once there was none."

Her words were unexpected; every time he turned around, she was surprising him. But every new thing just made him love her more. That was when he realized it fully: He loved her. Abruptly, he kissed her, hard and with passion. When he pulled back, she looked dazed, but not displeased, and he smiled against her brow as he murmured. "I love you."

She was clearly not expecting that. Her eyes widened, then her whole face softened in a way he'd never seen before, except when she was sleeping - free of the worries and responsibilities that plagued her waking hours. It was humbling, to know she felt so safe with him, and he leaned into her touch with no inhibitions as she stroked his stubbled jaw. "And I love you."

-x-

A hard few weeks' ride found her in Dawnstar, and her first impression was not a great one. The guards gave her mistrustful looks, the people scurried about as though they were under constant threat, and the weather was just plain awful. Dropping her poor mare off at the inn to be cared for, she moved through the streets in search of the Jarl's longhouse; with her attention elsewhere, she didn't notice the little boy hurtling toward her until they collided.

"Umph!" Staggering back a step, she braced herself and gripped the child's shoulders, barely keeping him from toppling right over into the deep drifts of snow. "Steady now, boy. What's all the rush about?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am! I didn't see you!" He looked flustered, gazing up at the armored figure before him, a number of empty sacks clutched precariously in his arms. "I-I was just coming back from taking food to the miners.. trying to get to the inn before the sun sets, and it gets really cold..."

Her brow furrowed, and she made sure he was steady on his feet before releasing him. "Your parents work at the inn, then?"

The boy hesitated, then looked down at the snow-covered ground, almost as though he were.. ashamed. "..I don't have any parents. Ma died when I was young, and Pa.. well Pa died a few months ago. They let me sleep on the floor at the inn."

"..I see." Emara felt a surge of pity for this child, followed by a flash of anger. What kind of person made a child sleep on the floor of their inn? "What's your name, boy?"

"Alesan, ma'am." He looked up at her again, wide-eyed and faintly afraid. "A-are you mad, ma'am? Please don't turn me in to the guards!"

She jerked back, looking horrified. "By the Divines, I wouldn't do such a thing! Do you know who I am, Alesan?" He shook his head, and she smiled down at him. "My name is Emara; some people call me the Dragonborn."

It shouldn't have been possible for his eyes to get any bigger, but they did, somehow. "You're the Dragonborn? Oh, wow!" Then he looked dismayed. "I can't believe I ran into the Dragonborn. I'm so sorry!"

Emara bit her tongue, stifling a laugh. "Never you mind that. You know, Alesan, I have a home in Falkreath, right on the lake; I also have a husband and a daughter, who I'm sure would be happy to have a son and brother, as it were. Know anyone who might be willing to help us out?"

Alesan stared at her, as though she were speaking a different language. Then he looked from side to side, wondering, perhaps, if she meant someone else. Then he peeked hesitantly back at her, and pointed uncertainly to himself. "Do.. do you mean me, ma'am?"

"I certainly do. It's just not right, a boy running about in the cold like this, no parents, sleeping on the floor. I have a home that needs more children, more joy and laughter; I want you to make it complete." She looked at him with serious intent, and watched the transformation of his face with amusement.

"Oh.. oh, wow! I-I'd love to come live with you! What should I do?" He shifted his weight, trying to restore some warmth to his feet in the deep snow.

Emara reached into her belt pouch, withdrawing a few Septims, and pressed them into one of his small, cold hands. "Take those, go get yourself some food and drink at the inn. I have business with the Jarl, but I'll be by to retrieve you as soon as I'm done. Then we'll go back to Falkreath."

He looked down at the coins in his hand, then up at her with such an expression of gratitude, she was floored. "Okay, ma'am. I mean.. Ma. I'll wait for you."

She turned to watch him for a few moments as he disappeared into the inn, then returned to her mission. She was eager to get back home to the lake house, with her new son. Farkas would be so pleased. ..She hoped.