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The hustle and bustle of Whiterun’s Plains District was nothing to Uskerva and Aela. To them, it was just another marketplace to get goods from. Though not native to Skyrim like Aela, Uskerva was well-acquainted with the land after over a decade having been spent in the cold country.
To their nine-winters-old daughter, Larya, the busier times of the market were a bit of a nightmare for her. Going against what was likely the right choice, Larya was raised under Jorrvaskr’s roof, and thus was raised around the Companions. This did not translate well into being a sociable child, however. Aela and Uskerva were trying their best to make her less nervous about going out, but perhaps chose the worst day for it.
The poor half-Orsimer child lagged behind her mothers, gripping Uskerva’s hand as tightly as she could while the three browsed for groceries. She didn’t take her eyes off of her parents in front of her, making sure to not get in anyone else’s way. Others in the city considered her a polite but shy kid, but her anxiety seemed to be more than just shyness. Uskerva and Aela saw no reason to feel alarmed at her anxiety unless she began to have an attack; for the time being, she seemed as fine as she could possibly be.
“What say you, dear? Soup for tonight?” Aela pondered a fresh head of cabbage at Carlotta and Mila’s stand. She set it down and glanced over the rest of their selection, unsure of what to get.
“I feel sick to death of soup. One more night of it and I might just lose my mind,” came Uskerva’s blunt reply.
“Alright…how about Little Lar?” The Huntress tipped her head down to see their daughter. “Would you like a fruit salad, maybe? Maybe with some venison?”
Larya took a minute to respond to her ma, thinking it through carefully. A curt nod and a quiet mumbling of “that’s fine” came but a moment later.
“Are you fine with that, love?” Aela inquired of her wife.
“Honestly, my sunshine, I’ll only agree if you let me do the cooking tonight. You’ve been so busy as of late that I’d prefer if you rested yourself for a night.”
The ginger Nord’s hand brushed against Uskerva’s thick chin scar, thumb catching gently on one of her tusks. “You’re sweet,” she murmured, “but I’ll be fine. It wouldn’t hurt me to cook for you and all the others.”
Uskerva pouted. “You just came back from a hunt yesterday, and last week you helped me with that massive party we threw for Mil’s birthday. I think you’ve done enough.”
“I insist that I’ll be alright,” she said with a slightly cocked head and a firmer tone than before.
“I can help if mama cooks,” Larya piped up, causing both of her parents to look down at her. Her smaller, pale green hand tightened around her mama’s hand. She wore a small, innocent smile.
Aela ruffled her loose red hair. “You never offer to help me with dinner, kiddo. What’s up with that?”
“You’re not the best cook, ma,” the girl admitted sheepishly. “I don’t wanna be part of that.”
Both Aela and Uskerva exchanged looks, mouths agape and eyes wide. They stood in silence against a chorus of busy people in the market. Larya refused to make eye contact with either woman now, freckled little cheeks heating up in embarrassment.
Then, Carlotta couldn’t hold back anymore. Much to the dismay of Aela especially, Carlotta had started to snicker.
“Hey,” the warrior barked defensively, “she’s too young to know what she’s talking about. I’ll have you know my cooking is—”
“In need of improvement?” Uskerva finished for her with a sly grin, pulling in their child for a side hug.
“I cannot believe my own wife is doing this to me.” Aela scoffed. “Whatever,” she grumbled, “I’ll take your freshest fruits in this burlap bag, please.”
Carlotta could only nod. “It seems difficult to mess up a fruit salad, Uskerva, so I say that if Aela wants to…” Her hands meticulously went to work loading the harder fruits in before the softer ones, then tying the bag. Finally, she handed it to Uskerva who accepted it with a shit-eating grin.
“That totals to about sixteen gold,” Mila gently said, choosing to not get involved in the quarrel between the three other adults.
Aela’s freckled face — usually streaked with teal warpaint, but clean today — was now flush in shame, but what more could she do than retrieve the coins that the young woman had requested in exchange for her goods. “Thank you,” she brusquely addressed Carlotta.
“It’s my pleasure,”the older Imperial replied, voice dripping with sweetness in opposition to Aela’s cold behavior.
Mila leaned over the counter to peek at Larya, offering the smaller girl a kind smile. “I remember when I was your age, helping my mother here with the stand…now I might be inheriting it in a couple years.”
“Oh, is that so?” Uskerva asked, curiosity piqued.
“I’d like to retire sooner or later,” Carlotta butted in with a chuckle, “but we’re still in talks about it. I’m sure if my daughter doesn’t take up the mantle, someone will.”
“That’s true; I honestly can’t see your stand unmanned for long. It’s too integral to the Plains District,” Aela added.
“You flatter me, really.”
Uskerva handed the bag of fruits to Aela so that she might take her free hand, essentially creating a chain between the wives and their daughter. The Orc turned her attention back to Carlotta and Mila. “I suppose we best be off — we still have other things to bring back to Jorrvaskr.”
“As always, ladies, thank you for your business!” Mila saw the three off with a wave.
The small family departed from the stand with their fruits in tow, now headed towards the General Store. Once owned by Belethor, it was bought out four years prior by an unlikely candidate: the other Dragonborn, Unalla. With Unalla’s much kinder attitude at the helm (and of course, the threat of dragons gone), the store saw business increase.
“Dearest…” Aela prodded at Uskerva verbally.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“...Am I really that bad a cook?”
Uskerva shook her head. “Of course not. But sometimes, I’ve noticed, you can rush through a recipe.”
Aela’s lips twisted to the side as she tried to dredge up examples. “I just don’t believe that’s true. It’s like hunting. Sometimes the best results take time.”
“So you know this, and yet the last time you made goat—”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
“...Alright,” Uskerva said with a sigh of resignation, allowing her wife to push through the doors of the store first.
Thankfully for the three, they were well-acquainted with Unalla, feeling safe enough to break their hand-holding chain with their child. Larya immediately rushed to the counter and waved to the older Nord-Altmer man, beaming all the while. Hearing them come in got his attention, and he approached the counter from the back with a crate of mead. He returned the girl’s smile, a genuine twinkle in his blue eyes.
“Well, hello there. If it isn’t my favorite customers,” Unalla announced.
“Hiya, Unalla,” Larya sang.
“Aren’t your sons your favorites?” Aela asked.
The bearded man waved her off. “Bah, they’re alright. Nothing special.” Then, he shared a belly laugh with the Huntress. After his laughter died off, he set the crate of mead down on the counter. “What brings you three here today?”
“We’re running a bit short of bottles of mead after last week’s celebration, actually,” Uskerva explained as she leaned against the customer side of the counter.
“Bandages,” Aela added while wagging a finger in the air.
“Right. And bandages. Njada had a number done on her recently.”
Unalla winced. “She’s being seen by the priests, right?”
“Yes,” Aela started while eyeing the mead crate, “but they told her to have fresh bandages back at Jorrvaskr so that she can dress her own wounds. She’ll be alright.”
“Ah, right, of course,” Unalla turned his back to pick through his stocks. “Let me see what I can do for you, then.” He approached the cabinets behind his counter and began to dig through them, muttering each item’s name to himself as he set it back down and turned his attention to another part of the cabinet. “Busy day today, eh?” He ended up remarking to make small talk.
“Yes, I believe it’s due to Saturalia upcoming…is that it?” Uskerva tilted her head.
“That seems to be it,” Aela agreed.
“I don’t mind. Means business is booming for me,” Unalla commented. Then, he shook his head. “Doesn’t look like I’ve got bandages in the immediate vicinity…I’m sure I’ve got some in the back, though. Let me go look.”
The moment Unalla began to walk away, Larya sprinted after him to help. Uskerva and Aela lurched forward — ready to scold her for running off — but Unalla appeared to find the gesture endearing, as evidenced by his response.
“Whoa, there!” The man cautioned, picking her up in a hug and spinning her around once. “Your daughter’s got a real entrepreneurial spirit to her, huh? I like that.” He then set her back down with a grunt and stretched to crack his back.
Uskerva sighed an exasperated sigh and brought her palms over her face. “She’s training with Vilkas and I to hold a sword on her own.”
Her ginger wife shrugged. “We figure it’s about time. Didn’t expect her to want to become a saleswoman, if I’m being truthful.”
“No, ma,” Larya corrected, “I just wanna help Uncle Unalla. I still wanna be a Companion!”
“What an honorable heart,” Unalla said with a hand over his chest. “Maybe I can share with her some of my stories as a Companion when she comes of age, hmm?”
“Pleaaaase!” Larya squealed, jumping up and down at him.
Uskerva shifted her scarlet red eyes to her wife. “At least she still has her manners…?”
“Somewhat, anyway,” Aela said under her breath. She set her bag of fruits down on the counter and crossed her arms.
“I’ll get you those bandages, don’t you worry,” Unalla reassured from afar.
Uskerva beckoned Larya back in a rush. “Come on now, Lar, let’s not go where we shouldn’t.”
“Okay, mama…” Now despondent, head hung low, Larya marched back to her mothers and gave them both a hug.
“She’s alright!” Came the loud yet soothing voice of a man lost in his stock.
“We’d rather she be where she won’t get hurt,” Aela stated.
Uskerva kept their daughter close by, a hand on her shoulder, while the three listened to the sounds of Unalla digging through the back for a few minutes. The digging soon simmered down, but Unalla didn’t return right away. When he did, he came back with a couple rolls of fresh bandages under his arm and a bag in his other hand. First, he delicately dropped the rolls of bandages into the box of the bottles of mead before setting the bag down next to the other bag on the counter. The Dragonborn salesman wicked away sweat from his forehead.
He let out a deep exhale. “I was beginning to believe they up and walked away from me. I don’t know how they got so buried…”
“Is running a store as hard as it looks?” Larya asked with bewilderment in her tone. It seemed that they had planted the idea of her actually changing vocations.
“I dunno. Is raising a kid harder than fighting a dragon?”
“Yes!” Uskerva exclaimed.
Unalla chuckled. “Then as someone with experience in all three, I’d say running a store is the least of my worries. Is there anything else you three needed?”
Aela shook her head. “What you’ve brought before us is sufficient enough. Thank you, truly.”
As the women prepared their goods and paid, Unalla nudged the bag he brought a bit over towards the customer side of the counter with an innocent smile behind his big, gray beard.
“This one’s on the house, eh? For all the little ones back at Jorrvaskr,” he urged.
“What is it?” Larya squeaked, blue eyes as big as plates.
“Some taffy treats and sweetrolls that I made this morning.”
The three had different reactions to the information they’d just received from the kind man. Aela recoiled, almost as if in disgust. Uskerva seemed to ponder it, as though she were going to take them for herself. And all the while, Little Larya cheered.
“Oh, no, no, no. Farkas made them enough sweets last week,” Aela sternly said, rejecting the notion of more goodies for the kids.
“Maaaaa…” Larya exaggeratedly whined.
“She’s been a good kid, no? I say it wouldn’t hurt.”
Aela whipped her head around to her wife. “Dear, no. I am not letting these kids ruin their diet.”
“How is it ruining if we ration it out?” Uskerva argued.
“I’m afraid you ladies aren’t leaving without taking the sweets.” Unalla interrupted, shrugging and gritting his teeth. “It’s my gift to you.”
“Please, ma? I’ll work extra hard around home to make up for it.” The girl now tugged at her ma’s arm gently, looking like she might start blubbering at any given moment.
Aela pinched the bridge of her nose, seeming irritated by the conundrum she found herself in. She didn’t want to reject the kindness of a man she’s known for most of her life, but she also didn’t want to go too hard on the sweets with the kids. Gods only knew what the other parents thought of it.
Actually, Farkas probably wouldn’t mind it, now that she considered it.
“You are such a bad influence, love,” the lycan woman finally said in resignation.
Uskerva threw her hands in the air. “What in Oblivion did I do?”
“Argued in favor of the kids having too much sugar.”
Uskerva blinked, and she blinked hard. She covered her mouth with her hand, as if she were going to say something sacrilegious, but kept her tongue quiet.
“In any case, thank you for stopping by. If you need help carrying anything back to Jorrvaskr, let me know. Otherwise, tell my boys I said ‘hi’.” Unalla finalized their business with a handshake to Aela, breaking the women out of their argumentative trance.
“Thank you,” Aela said in defeat with a nod, “but I think we’ll be alright. I’ll pass along your hello to the twins.”
Larya took the sack of sweets and ran ahead with it — something she never did, but the excitement was too great. Once outside, she opened the bag and started reaching for a taffy treat, but soon she felt Aela’s judging eyes fall on her.
Aela pursed her lips and looked away. “Go ahead. But only one for now.”
“Really? Thank you!” The half-Orc child wasted no time digging in and pulling out a taffy treat, immediately popping the end of it into her mouth.
The Nord woman came to be alert when the Orc beside her planted a kiss on her cheek.
“I love you, Aela.”
Begrudgingly, Aela returned the kiss. “Love you too. You little shit.”
“Hey. I’m taller than you,” Uskerva childishly teased.
“...Don’t start this now.”