Before I had children, silence was golden.

But with six-year-old twins who never seemed to tire, silence was suspicious.

"Jergen! Embla!" I called from the steps in front of Jorrvaskr, hands on my hips. I told them they could run to the market and each buy one thing from Carlotta's stall, and they hadn't returned. I thought that maybe they would've been responsible enough to go out on their own. But I must have been wrong.

"Mama! Mama!" Embla cried as she ran towards me, her dress ripped and knees bloodied. Tears tracked down her face, and she smeared blood from her palm onto her damp cheek.

"What is it?" I knelt down as she stopped in front of me. "What happened? Where's your brother?"

"Hiding." She sniffed and wiped her fist under her runny nose.

"Hiding?" I pulled a small cloth from a pouch on my belt and dabbed it against her cheeks. "From what?"

"Papa. He says Papa will beat him if he finds out what he did. And he deserves it!"

"What did he do? What happened?"

"He pushed me! He tried to take my sweetroll from me, and then he pushed me down."

I pursed my lips. I knew that there had to be more to the story. As much as I trusted Embla to tell the truth, I knew that Jergen wouldn't push his sister down for no reason. And children often withheld information. "Where did you see him last?"

"In the market, hiding behind a barrel in front of Arcadia's Cauldron."

I nodded, then stood up. I took her hand in mine, careful to avoid the scrapes on her palms, and led her inside Jorrvaskr. "Let's get you cleaned up. You'll feel better then."

As soon as we stepped inside, Vilkas greeted us. He took one look at Embla, and he scooped her into his arms, letting her wrap her arms around his neck and lean against his chest. "What happened to you?"

"Jergen happened to me." She pouted. "He took my sweetroll and then pushed me down."

Vilkas's face hardened. "Where is he?"

"Hiding from you," I said, walking alongside him. "Or so she says."

"I bet he is," Embla said in a low tone. "Little milk-drinker."

"You watch your tongue, young lady," Vilkas said, voice stern. "That isn't a nice thing to say."

"I heard Uncle Farkas call Nazeem that once. It sounded mean."

"And just because your uncle said it doesn't mean you can. I don't want to hear you say it ever again, all right?"

"Yes, Papa."

Just as we reached the doors leading downstairs, in walked an ashamed Jergen. He walked right to us, but didn't dare to look either of his parents in the eye.

"I suppose you're going to explain this?" Vilkas asked.

"Yes, Papa," Jergen mumbled, head still down.

Vilkas nodded and handed Embla over to me. "I'll take care of him. Get her cleaned up."

I nodded, then whispered, "Be patient with him. There has to be more to the story."

"I will." He gave me a quick kiss, then turned back to our son. "Come with me."

I watched as he led Jergen outside, then I turned and took Embla downstairs.

"Mama, is 'milk-drinker' a bad word?" she asked me as I carried her into her and Jergen's room. It was Vilkas's old one, but we converted it after the children outgrew their cradles.

"It isn't a nice word," I said, setting her down on her bed. "There are nicer things to call your brother."

"But he hurt me!"

"I know, but that doesn't mean you can call him something mean back. You need to be nice, no matter what."

"Is Papa going to beat Jergen?"

"I don't know. Do you want him to?"

She seemed to think about it, then she shook her head. "I don't want Papa to hurt Jergen."

"He will only discipline your brother if he thinks it's necessary." I brought a basin of water over to her bed, kneeling in front of her to take care of her wounds. "And do you know why your father and I discipline you and Jergen?"

She shook her head.

"It's because we love you."

"Then why do you hurt us?"

"It hurts us, too. It hurts us to have to punish you."

"But how?"

I had to smile. "When you're older, you'll understand." I brushed a dark curl away from her bloody and tearstained face. Both of them had taken after me in more ways than they did Vilkas. They both had curly black hair, although Embla's was far curlier. They both had porcelain skin, fair and unmarred by scars. They didn't look much alike, even though they were twins, in the face. The biggest difference was their eye colors. While Jergen and I shared the same sapphire hue, Embla had the same glacial blue irises as her father.

"Mama?"

I finished wiping the blood and tears off her face. "What is it, honey?"

"I love you, too."

I smiled, dropping the cloth into the basin. "I think that dress is sufficiently ruined. How about we get you changed into a new one?"

She stayed on the bed while I took out a simple blue dress for her. I helped her slip it on, then let her lie back.

"I think you need a little rest before dinner." I tucked her into bed, kissing her forehead. "I love you, little one."

Just as I stood to leave, she stopped me. "Mama, tell me a story."

"What sort of story?"

"How you and Papa met."

I smiled. "But that's a boring story."

"I want to know."

"All right." I heaved a sigh and clasped my hands in my lap. "Your father and I met here, in Jorrvaskr. He was talking to Kodlak, the old Harbinger, and I walked in."

"Was Papa instantly struck by your beauty?"

I laughed. "Where did you hear that?"

"That's what Bria told me about her parents. She said Uncle Farkas said that he was instantly struck by Aunt Tyra's beauty."

Oh, Farkas. "Well, it wasn't like that with your papa. He... didn't like me very much at first."

She sat up. "Why not?"

"I don't know. Your papa still won't tell me that."

"But he started to like you."

"You're right, he did. It took him some time, though."

She snuggled back down into her blankets. "What happened after you walked in?"

"Well, your father took me to the training yard and tested my skills with my sword."

"Did you beat him?"

"I—"

"She did, and it was the most embarrassing thing I have ever been through," said Vilkas from the doorway. He had a smile on his stubbled face, and a hand on Jergen's back.

Embla scowled at Jergen. "What does he want?"

"He's come to tell you something." Vilkas gave Jergen a gentle shove forward. "Go on."

Jergen kept his eyes on the stone floor, one hand wrapped around his other bicep. "I'm sorry."

"For?" Vilkas asked.

"For pushing you down."

"And?"

"And... for stealing your sweetroll. It won't happen again."

I looked at Embla, who was still glaring at her brother. "Embla, say thank you."

She curled her nose, but eventually did thank him.

I nodded to her, then took a look at my son. He was covered in dirt, like he'd been wrestling. "Jergen, you're all dirty. What were you doing?"

"I got knocked down."

"By who?" My first thought was that some bigger child, like that Lars Battle-Born, had hurt him. And if that were the case...

I'll just have to have a chat with their parents.

"By Embla."

I gaped at him for this. "She hurt you?"

He nodded, ashamed. "And everyone laughed at me for being knocked down by a girl."

"So you pushed her back."

He nodded again. "I didn't mean to hurt her, honest, Mama!" He looked up at me, a dark bruise on his face. It was the exact shape of—

Embla's fist.

"Embla," I said, my tone stern. "Did you hit your brother?"

"He stole my sweetroll!"

"I just wanted a bite! I was going to give it back!"

"No, you weren't!"

"Yes, I was!"

"Hush, both of you," Vilkas said, stepping into the room. He didn't seem at all surprised by hearing that Embla punched Jergen. Although, I suppose that Jergen probably told him after Embla and I had gone.

"It's over now," he continued, "but it should never have been such an issue. Embla, it is just a sweetroll. You should not have hit your brother."

"But, Papa—"

"Don't interrupt your father," I said, placing a hand on her shoulder. I then looked at Vilkas, silently telling him to continue.

"But that didn't give Jergen the right to push you down. You were both at fault, and you both need to apologize."

"Embla," I said. "Say you're sorry."

She gave me a indignant look, but then let it fall. "I'm sorry, Jergen."

He gave her a weak smile, showing the gap in his lower teeth. He was so proud of losing his first tooth before his sister. She'd been so mad, she said she was going to knock another one out for him.

"All right, Jergen," Vilkas said, taking our son by the shoulder, "come with me. How about we go train a little before dinner?"

"Yes!" Jergen's eyes lit up with excitement as he grabbed his wooden sword. Vilkas and I both decided he wasn't quite ready for a real one yet. "You want to come watch, Mama?"

I nodded. "Of course."

Vilkas smiled at Jergen, pride sparkling in his eyes. "I'll have to go get my stave, then."

With Embla in tow, we all headed upstairs to the training yard, Jergen bubbling with excitement. He loved sparring with Vilkas. He loved it so much, he said that he wanted to be the next Master of Arms. At this, Vilkas beamed. He was so very proud of our children. As was I.

We are blessed indeed, I thought, holding Vilkas's hand.

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A/N: So here it is! First part for Victory or Sovngarde! Hope you enjoy! Vote and comment, maybe? Make my day? Thanks!
I got the name Bria from my good friend, Emerald_Parrish. She gave me the name, so thanks go to her.
Lots of love and sweetrolls!
~WG 💙