A/N: yeah, really quick update, but I was itching to do Dal's labor... :3 well, I'm thinking this might be the last chapter. Don't get me wrong, I'll still write with Marc and Dal and the baby, but it'll be like a series of one-shots. I didn't wanna time-skip so much in one story.

For the record, I love Fralia. She seems like she'd be such a motherly figure for the boys, I love her being there. She uses the word 'dear' a lot, because my creative license says I can do that. Anyway...

On to the birthing!

...

Dalamus leaned forward a little more, grasping the fabric off the line and yanking it down. He was thankful for the beautiful day; winter would be settling in soon, it was nice to have warm weather so late into his pregnancy. The baby was due any day now, Fralia was certain, and he was anxious.

As he gathered the bundle of clean linens together said baby seemed to stretch within him, roll around a bit, then kick harshly against his protruding belly button. Dal winced; "You're being so violent today," he murmured, rubbing his belly with a smile. "Not much longer to go now."

He felt a soft rub against his palm and smiled wider. "Come on, let's put these things in the house."

After a short waddle around the corner of the house he pushed the door open with his back, having left it unlocked anyway. Marcurio turned to him as soon as he got in, looked at the basket in his arms. "I was going to get those, you didn't need to come down the stairs."

"Just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I can't do anything around the house. I'm not going to hole myself up in the bedroom." he bent over to put the basket on the floor, ignored the strain in his back as he stood back up.

"I don't want you to put any unnecessary strains on yourself," the mage said pointedly, catching the effort that flashed across his husband's face as he stood upright.

"I'll be fine."

Marcurio watched warily as Dal walked around him to go up the staircase. He had to admit, the way the elf tottered while bearing his child was kind of adorable, but he needed to stop walking around so much. He'd be due any day now, he needed to rest, the stubborn ass. So he picked up the basket of laundry and turned around, only to drop it again at the sharp gasp Dal took in, at the sight of his husband kneeling at the top of the stairs with his arms around his torso.

"Dalamus!" he was up the stairs in record time, taking hold of the elf's face and asking what was wrong, what had happened.

Dal felt a little pop before wet warmth seeped down the insides of his thighs; his eyes shot open as pain suddenly swept over his frame. "... baby... now...!" was what came out, through a tight throat and gritted teeth. He was trying to breathe, trying to hold together because it all hurt.

"... Okay, come here, I've got you," Marcurio said, forcing down all the fear and worry in favor of doing what Fralia had told him to, for when this happened. He took Dal into his arms, in raging mother-hen-mode, and moved the Dunmer into their bedroom.

Once Dal was upright against the pillows, propped up just like he was supposed to be, his breaths came easier. Or was that just because the pain had faded a little? No matter; he still felt as if he was going to die - another violent contraction of his insides would be enough to kill him, for sure. "Get Fralia."

"I don't want to leave you alone," Marc said, voice pitying, but that just pissed him off; what good would him staying here be? The mage didn't know how to birth a child!

Dalamus punched him, hard. "Get. Fralia."

And Marcurio obeyed; not just out of concern for his spouse, also out of fear for the growl of an impending Shout lying beneath his voice. He didn't want Dal to use up precious energy Shouting at him. The run across town was nothing; the sooner he brought Fralia back to Breezehome the better, she would deliver the baby. So when he found the elderly woman working in her garden he had no qualms against getting her attention.

"Good morning, Marcurio. How's Dalamus?" she asked sweetly, getting up and brushing her hands together.

It took him a minute to catch his breath. "His... His water broke..."

Her eyes widened. "Oh, my! Let's go!"

When they got back to the house, Dal must have heard because he yelled, "Get this thing out of me!"

"I'm right here, dear, hold on," she said calmly, and went up the staircase. "Marcurio, get as many towels as you can find and bring them up."

He went off to do what he was told and she went in to him. "Dalamus, look at me." the elf did, with a little effort, "How far apart are your contractions?"

"I don't know..." he growled through his teeth, "Thirty seconds?"

"Alright, good, just breathe," she cooed the words, trying to comfort him as she tugged his pants away. Marcurio returned with some towels and handed them over; she nodded her thanks and returned her attention to the elf.

It was official; Dalamus was damned terrified. Here he was, on his back, loud groans vibrating in his chest with each contraction that came and went. The pressure on his stomach was unbearable, he just wanted the damned baby out of him! "I thought... you were going to help me?" he gritted out, reaching blindly to his left for Marc's hand.

"I am, dear, but you aren't ready yet..."

The mage took his husband's hand into his own and pressed a kiss to his knuckles; his other reached up to brush the white hair back from his forehead. He began to whisper a spell into the warm skin, to help him calm down, but the woman cut him off.

"Do not cast on him." he just looked at her, eyes curious but lips silent. "His body is overly receptive right now, we can't risk what it will do to the baby."

"What?" the Dragonborn asked, sounding agitated and a little scared.

"I have to listen to Fralia, Dal."

"I know," he growled, voice dropping as another wave of pain wracked his frame.

"Okay, Dalamus, when you feel the urge to push, go ahead and do it - I'll tell you when if you don't, alright?" Fralia's calm voice cut through the fog of pain in his head as she told him what to do. He gave a brief nod but a yell ripped up his throat as another contraction hit him without warning.

"You need to push," she encouraged gently. Dal squeezed his eyes shut as he did so, voice arching up into a scream, and a warm tear slid down his cheek. Marc hated this, it was maddening to watch his husband experience such pain but to be unable to help him at all. He settled for holding back a string of curses as Dal crushed his hand; Gods, was the Dragonborn trying to break his bones?

"You're doing great, dear," Fralia praised, "Take a few breaths, then push again when you're ready."

He took this time for granted, catching his breath, before he felt a compelling urge to push. "A little harder, Dalamus, go ahead..."

"I... I can't do this," the Dovakiin cried, shaking his head as tears spilled down his cheeks. His face was flushed purple with exertion, shiny with sweat, eyes squeezed shut in pain.

"You can," Marcurio murmured, brows knitted together, holding on to Dal's hand just as hard as the Dunmer was holding on to him. "Just listen to her."

With a little nod he took in a breath and pushed, crushing Marcurio's hand in his grip, and if he hadn't been in so much pain he would've felt a little smug at the curse the mage let out. He deserved it, the bastard had gotten him pregnant in the first place.

"The head is out, Dalamus, you're doing a wonderful job," Fralia praised, "The hardest part is just about over with... Give me a long, hard push!"

One fist curled in the covers, the other squeezed harshly around Marcurio's hand (he thought he heard something crack...) and Dal thought his teeth might break from how tightly he clenched them as he gave a hard push. At least he might have worried about such a thing if he hadn't been so preoccupied with the pain ripping through his conscious, all-encompassing and absolute. He dimly felt lips press to his hand, a palm swiping tears from his cheeks.

And suddenly the pressure was gone. He opened his eyes with a gasp, blinked tiredly down at Fralia. She looked up at him, meeting his exhausted red eyes with gray ones that were positively gleaming, "Congratulations, you two, you're now the parents of a beautiful baby boy."

Marcurio smiled broadly, warmly, and kissed Dal on the forehead. "I told you you could do it, love."

"Mm," he hummed in response, physically unable to do much more, but he couldn't keep the smile off of his face, either. He blinked, slowly, and heaved a sigh, then closed his eyes again and descended into some place warm and dark.

...

Dal opened his eyes. Blinked up at the ceiling. Part of him wanted to roll over and go to back to sleep, but then he remembered why he'd been asleep in the first place; he was a father.

He sat upright, eyes still droopy, and scratched at the back of his head. "Marcurio...?"

"You're awake," The mage approached him from the other side of the room, smiling broadly. "Look."

Marc kneeled beside him, at the edge of the bed, and handed Dalamus the bundle in his arms.

He pulled back the towel and couldn't help but grin himself. The little baby boy - his son - was a soft weight in his arms. His skin was the color of the sky just before dawn, a rich, dark blue, and he blinked up at his father with big amber eyes. A soft dusting of bright white hair covered his whole head, right down to his rounded ears. "He's beautiful," Dal murmured, letting a soft chuckle escape him as the boy's tiny hand grasped at one of his fingers.

"You hear that, Ky? Daddy thinks you're beautiful," Marcurio cooed, putting an arm around his husband's shoulders. "Fralia looked him over, said he's perfectly healthy. I'm proud of you."

"Thank you," he turned his head and nuzzled it into the side of Marc's neck.

"She made food, too; do you want some?"

Come to think of it, his stomach did feel a little hollow... "Yes, please."

When he got up and left the room, Dal cooed and cuddled little Kylius in his arms. The baby stared up at everything, eyes wide and curious and an exact copy of Marcurio's. "You're such a quiet little thing."

"He takes after you, I think," he looked up at the sound of Fralia's voice. The elder woman was smiling at him as she entered the bedroom, hands busy with a towel.

Dalamus grinned before a thought occurred to him. "How do you know so much about..." he stopped trying to articulate and gestured to himself.

But Fralia was confused. "You just gestured to all of you."

"I mean, how did you know how to birth... from me," he hesitated to say the last words; the concept was still odd to him, it felt weird in his mouth.

"I birthed my nephew."

It took a few seconds for this to register; he just stared at her until it clicked. "... Oh."

(A/N: did Fralia have a brother in the game? I don't remember... Oh, well. Creative license ftw)

"He was less prepared than you, though," she said, "It's good that you and Marcurio found out so soon."

"Only because I was being stubborn," he remarked with a little grin, "Was he scared?"

"Oh, the poor thing was terrified. Had no idea what he was doing. The other man left him when they finally pieced it all together, completely disappeared."

"Asshole." and that was Marcurio, back with a bowl of stew that smelled positively glorious to the elf's hungry belly. He plopped down on the bed next to Dalamus and traded the bowl for the now-sleeping Ky. "I'd never leave you."

"You'd better not."

Fralia was gone soon after. When Dalamus was done with his food Marc took the bowl and put Kylius back in his arms, then disappeared down the stairs. He had been right; Ky would have been a small miracle to any other family, but to him he was much more than that. Dal hadn't expected to have a child, or anyone to continue his line, really; how could he? He was never attracted to women in the slightest, and they were the ones who gave birth to children.

And then he saved the world.

And then he got pregnant.

And now he had Ky, this adorable little baby boy who was just as Marc had put it - us. He would do all he could to keep Kylius safe and healthy and content... Hell, he'd probably spoil the kid rotten.

And he'd be perfectly happy in doing so.

...

A/N: sigh, I love these three. So, Soul of. Dov is over, but fret not! There will be one-shots that extend this storyline. Make suggestions, anything can be canon!

Shadow hide you, Dawn is Breaking.