The Dragonborn

Part 125

Jack was awoken from his pleasant slumber by the smell of... bacon? Opening his sleepy eyes, he saw Mark sitting at the campfire with a small goblin-like creature. A Riekling. Jack jerked upright, searching for a weapon. He really regretted not sleeping with one but conjured his bound dagger instead. This would work just as well. Jack raised the dagger to throw it at the chuckling Riekling, when Mark suddenly told him in a rush. "Jack, Don't!" Jack dispelled the dagger in his hand as the Riekling squealed in surprise, falling backward off the tree stump it had been sitting on. The Riekling peeked over the stump. His big black beady eyes and long bluish-grey pointed ears barely visible. Mark chuckled softly in the sudden silence, introducing them warmly. "Jack, this is Klipper. Klipper, this is my husband Jack." Klipper's little hand rose above the tree stump to wave, his beady eyes never blinking or looking away. Jack licked his dry lips nervously, asking Mark anxiously. "Mark? How did you befriend a Riekling exactly?"

Mark turned the meat cooking on the spit over the fire, telling him honestly. "Klipper here found me. He belongs to a small tribe nearby. A bunch of drunken Nords were going to wipe them out over possession of a stupid mead hall. The Riekling Chief was just trying to protect his people from extermination by using the sturdy building to protect them from the cold and outside elements. So, I helped him out. Klipper here decided to stay with me while I waited for you. He even hunted breakfast for us." Jack eyed what he could see of Klipper. He wasn't sure what to make of him. He had never known any Rieklings personally. However, Mark didn't seem bothered by him and he was always defending Dragons for not being as mean as they looked. So, he waved back to Klipper. Klipper's head rose a bit higher over the stump to reveal his sharp toothed grin, then he began hefting himself back onto the stump. The stump was about as tall as him, but he managed to climb up and sit cross-legged upon it once again.

Klipper put a hand on his wide hip, beckoning him closer to the fire with the slender fingers of his other hand. Jack inched himself closer, while Mark told him openly. "Klipper was keeping watch while I slept last night. You scared the wits out of him. He kept apologizing that he let you slip in." Klipper put a hand to his face, hiding his embarrassed grin. Jack was happy that someone was watching out for Mark. When Klipper peeked between his fingers to look at him, Jack nodded his respect. Klipper's long pointed ears perked up and he smiled warmly back. He was about to ask Mark if Klipper spoke and common languages, but before he could, Mark asked him softly. "Speaking of last night... Miraak?" Jack's whole body tensed at the memory. Klipper puffed up his chest, chittering something in Riekling before spitting across the ground away from them. Collecting himself, he honestly told him. "He's dead." Klipper let out a surprised squeak. While Mark happily stated out. "Really? Are you sure?"

Jack chuckled morbidly, retorting almost playfully. "He was a pile of bones when I left, and his soul was claimed by Hermaeus Mora... So, ya. I'm pretty sure he's dead and gone permanently." Klipper began to bounce on the stump, clapping his hands as he uttered out excited chitters with bits of broken english that he didn't catch. It just sounded like cat purrs and soft growls. Mark nodded to Klipper, asking Jack with a smile. "I'm with Klipper. I wanna hear this great war tale of yours." Jack rolled his eyes, unable to stop himself from smirking. He didn't consider it to be a 'great tale.' Although, he was still happy to be alive to tell it. So, he started from the moment he left Mark. Mark listened in silence like he always did. Wanting to hear everything before asking anything. Klipper on the other hand was like a small child. He rolled onto his stomach across the stump with his hands propping up his head as he listened. On occasion soft gasps would escape him, or he'd get so tense that his little legs would anxiously wiggle in the air behind him.

When he reached the part of him flying on Sahrotaar, Klipper's eyes glistened with a deep magical longing. The moment he reached what happened to her, Klipper began to sniffle and rub his runny nose on his slender bare arm. Jack didn't leave out anything or change anything. He told it like it was. After finishing his tale, Mark was the one to tell him lovingly. "I'm just glad he let you come back to me. I kept trying to think of a way that I could go there to help you... Or rescue you if-" Jack cut him off by crawling up to him. Snuggling into Mark's arms, Jack whispered against his throat. "I will always find a way to come home to you." Mark hugged him tightly, burying his head into his neck to give him tender kisses. Jack wanted to stay this way, when a soft throat cleared to draw their attention. Jack reluctantly looked to find Klipper standing in front of him. Klipper removed his tiny spear, holding it up proudly for him to see and then pulled it to his chest with his chin held high. Jack was only semi-confident that he understood.