Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Bethesda Studios and I own nothing but the plot and the OC. There is no money made from this, really.

A series of AU one-shots featuring the misadventures of Freyja and Alduin as they make their way through Skyrim. Basically fun, fluff and crack prompts which will never be featured in Dragonrend.

A/N: Okay, I am seriously backed-up. My mind is overflowing with ideas for Dragonrend; I can see, hear and practically taste the chapters leading up the big build-up at High Hrothgar and even to the very end. I know the last line of the story but by the Nine and the Daedra, the words will not come. It's all stuck in my head and wrestling with the words is like trying to resist Tom Hiddleston in a wet t-shirt. I have a fourth of Chapter 47 written out but I think I need a break. So here are some light-hearted crack/moments/drabbles which I hope are remotely funny. In case it's not clear, I'm referencing the dragons in Dragons: Riders/Defenders of Berk cartoon series and taking it a little further. Reviewers who offered prompts about potions and clothes, I'm working on it right now so hang tight. As always, thank you for reading and especial thanks for reviewing. I hope to get my Muse back in gear soon; I feel so guilty for leaving the story hanging.

IMAGINE DRAGONS

III. Of Dragons and Sheep: Part 1

It all started the day Jarl Balgruuf the Greater signed on the document that Proventus Avenicci had presented to him. News had come from Cyrodiil of a lucrative trade and Proventus, always eager and ready to increase Whiterun's coffers, had hit upon a scheme that he felt would make money. After all, Whiterun had the best weather of all the Holds; it felt perpetually like summer most months of the year and there were plenty of wide, grazing fields and sufficient numbers of people had expressed an interest in the new trade. "Whiterun will be the centre of a new and flourishing trade," Proventus declared as he vigorously rolled up the precious scroll which would then be delivered via courier to a particular merchant and trader in Skingrad that Proventus personally knew and had consulted prior to drawing up the proposal. "Lamb I am told, is succulent, as delicious and tender as any beef. The wool of the sheep is far softer than bear fur; think of the clothiers and how this will expand their business. I've heard of exotic cheeses that may be made from the milk of the sheep. Most useful animals..."

Balgruuf eyed his Steward with more than an ounce of amusement. But it sounded like a fair bargain, even though these strange woolly creatures who had never set a cloven hoof in Skyrim before were almost worth their weight in gold. Eventually, the profit reaped would be more than what he paid now and it was an offer that had come only through Proventus' contacts (and some bribes, not that he was going to question the Imperial about those). Maven Blackbriar had toyed with the idea but eventually discarded it. There was no one in Riften interested in raising sheep and the lands around the city were far too hostile, filled with giant spiders, bears and bandits. While Proventus nattered on about how Whiterun's trade would be revived, Balgruuf smiled with satisfaction.

Neither of them had anticipated the challenge that the dragons would present.

At first, it had seemed fairly innocuous. It was not all that unusual to see the occasional dragon flying over the plains, even circling near Dragonsreach. The Dragonborn herself had sworn that she had vanquished Alduin in Sovngarde itself, had even summoned a massive scarlet dragon with amethyst streaked wings to fly her to the World-Eater's fabled eyrie. Nowadays, dragons left the Holds of Skyrim alone. They had traversed, at the Dragonborn's bidding, to the lands of the Altmer and most of the time, they kept the High Elves busy, too busy for them to be planning the conquest of the Empire and Skyrim.

Therefore, Balgruuf did not feel worried that Freyja and her Greybeard husband, Aldin, were currently not in the city at the moment. He had no idea where his Thane had gone to; she was in the habit of disappearing and reappearing when she was most needed.

When the reports came of increased dragon sightings though, the Jarl did feel some slight concern though. It had been a week since the sheep had arrived and to the seasoned warrior, both in the battlefield and off it, there was no such thing as a coincidence. The matter clearly bore more investigating. Which was why he was currently standing at the highest window of Dragonsreach, spying on his investment.

"I hope this is not going to take all day. My Jarl."

That last part had clearly been added on as an afterthought, a very grudging afterthought. If Farengar got anymore ruffled, his wizard's hood was going to stand on end. That almost made Balgruuf grin, almost. He then elected to ignore the mage and focused his gaze once more through the marvellous looking glass which the latter had invented with the help of some ancient Dwemer scrolls which Freyja had unearthed. It was clearer than even the glass that adorned the palace windows, and had the amazing ability to magnify even the furthest object. The first time he had used it, Balgruuf had been so startled that he had almost dropped the precious lens. Farengar had snatched it before it hit the ground before cradling it to his chest like a child and glaring bloody murder at his Jarl. Still, he'd not been able to stop the latter from commandeering the use of the lens, which was especially useful now that Farengar had fitted it to a long, retractable tube-like apparatus of sorts.

"Because I have experiments to conduct. Important and old scripts with tiny, faded writings which this lens would be most useful for."

Balgruuf took his gaze off the two dragons circling the field over which the sheep were grazing. Pale blue eyes pinned Farengar like an alchemist would a torchbug to the table. To his credit, the mage did not squirm at all. But he did fall silent and let Balgruuf go back to dragon watching. "What are those winged beasts doing?"

Half a year later and the mage was still sulking. The Dragonborn had caught him trying to scrape scales and draw blood from the red dragon and by the time she had been done with him, it had been weeks before Farengar could sit without the aid of a cushion. Neither the Dragonborn nor the wizard had even spoken of what had passed but popular rumour had it that she had tossed him across the nearest ledge and had taken the sheath of her blade to his bottom while yelling something about childish behaviour being deserving of punishment that befitted a child. "They are watching the sheep. Again."

"How many of them this time?"

"Two on the mountain peaks, two more in the air. And now I spy a fifth coming in from the north."

"And it's not even midday. The same dragons as before?"

Farengar swallowed at the dry look that Balgruuf shot him. "Well yes, I am aware that most of them are either green, white, reddish-gold, with the exception of that red brute and Alduin himself..."

"They're not trained nor tame. They answer to strength, to the one who defeated their god. And yes, I recognise one of them. An Ancient Dragon I believe. Has a white scar down the side of his neck from a battle with Freyja."

"Nahagliiv," Farengar replied promptly.

"As for the others, I cannot say. They just seem to be contented watching, although some of them are flying rather low to the ground."

"And the sheep do not mind?"

"Less so then the shepherds and the hounds." Both had either run away screaming or had stood their ground yelling and baying at the dragons. Ironically, that had upset the sheep, sending them at a run over the field, the bobbing white coats like fat creamy clouds bobbing against an emerald sky.

"Hmm...the new livestock must be either incredibly lacking in intelligence or they are utterly and wholly unfamiliar with dragons."

"None have attempted to eat them so far. I fear if things continue like this, I may not be able to say the same of the men and the hounds."

"Where did the Dragonborn say she went to again?"

"She didn't."

"Oh." Farengar was silent for a moment. "Perhaps you might want to send out some couriers, put out a word to the other Jarls or High Queen Elisif."

If he wrote to Elisif only about the Dragonborn, she would be very disappointed. His trip to Solitude had resulted in an unexpected but very pleasant interlude with the beautiful young widow. She had grown much, had developed a spine and political acumen of her own that sufficiently intrigued him. In turn, he realised that she had always respected him for standing up to Ulfric and even Tullius. One thing had led to another and although he hadn't made it into her bed, mainly because neither of them was entirely ready for entirely different reasons, Balgruuf would not about to rule out the eventual probability of such an event. Perhaps it was time to send Elisif a letter or two. One for official business, and one for more private matters.

"Send word to the captain of the guards. I want a man up here every hour until something happens. I need to speak with Proventus and Irileth. And then I have some messages to write."

Horror blanched Farengar's face. "But my Jarl..."

A firm hand clapped him once on the shoulder. "It means that I have need of that lens of yours. I am sure those experiments and scrolls can wait."

Farengar managed to bite his tongue until Balgruuf was almost out of earshot. Then the cursing began. It was impressive enough to put even a pirate to shame. This time, Balgruuf did smile, and rather broadly at that.

He was not smiling though five hours later when a soldier came rushing down to the great hall, pale-faced and wide-eyed.

"My Jarl, the dragons are stealing the sheep!"

"The dragons stole the sheep?" Freyja blinked in disbelief. "You mean they ate the sheep."

Balgruuf ran a hand over his face. He looked like a man who had not slept in almost a week, a description that was rather close to the truth. Proventus looked as worn and a lot more irritated than he did. Irileth was absent; he had sent her out to commandeer the men and fortify the walls as best she could from marauding dragons hoping to snatch more sheep from Whiterun.

"No, he means they stole the sheep. Your dragons..." Proventus stopped when a very low but completely audible growl made itself heard. It was coming from the very tall, very lean and very armed and dangerous husband of the Dragonborn. One look at his face and the Steward could tell that he was also very unhappy with how his wife was being addressed. "The dragons," he continued in a more genteel tone, "scooped the sheep up with their talons and flew off with them. We're getting reports from hunters and travelling khajiit of sheep being sighted at dragon lairs such as Autumnwatch Tower, Ancient's Ascent. Farmers are being driven off their cultivated land by dragons who have deposited their sheep there and basically taken over the farm so that the animals can eat the crops. The other Jarls are complaining and saying we are responsible for this...this situation—"

"I do believe debacle was the word Maven used," Balgruuf cut in. "Is there anything either of you can do?"

Freyja turned to Alduin, whose face was an inscrutable mask. Then she turned back to the very tired Jarl. "I'd like to see these sheep, if you will. Lydia told me they're being kept inside the palace."

"In the dungeons and the storerooms below."

So that explained the smell. It was a comment Freyja made sure to keep to herself.

"I've also paid some residents with larger houses to keep a few sheep with them, as many as they can spare."

And the unhappy faces that she had seen, the few that she had spotted while walking through the districts. No wonder the city smelled faintly of some kind of manure. Alduin would have pinched his nose shut if he could have, but pride had won out over his more delicate sensibilities. It hadn't stopped him from complaining until they reached the great doors of the palace.

"I don't suppose you've seen a sheep before?" Freyja asked him quietly as they descended the steps into the lower bowels of the palace.

"I have no idea what manner of creature that might be."

"Alduin?"

"Yes?"

"Your face is turning blue."

The once and future god of destruction scowled at his wife. Then he took a deep breath that turned his face a shade paler. "I do not know what frightens me more, the stench or the fact that you can quite cheerfully abide it."

"It's not that bad." They reached the bottom of the stairs, arriving at a closed door. Freyja put a hand out, grasped the handle and pulled it open. Then she slammed it shut again. "I take that back." When her husband did not offer a smug rejoinder, Freyja knew that it was serious.

"You stay here and I'll go inside. It will take a few minutes at the most."

"Nonsense. Let us go in and get this over with."

They were interrupted when the door was kicked open by a very surly Fianna who was lugging two buckets of steaming brownish black muck that stank to Aetherius and probably Oblivion. Alduin managed not to shrink back in horror, although he moved very swiftly out of the way.

"As you were saying, you shall have a look at these creatures while I wait for you outside."

Any teasing remarks that she might have made perished very quickly when Alduin leaned down and brushed his thumb over her full lower lip. "When we go back to Breezehome, I will draw you a bath."

"Really?" Freyja knew she sounded slightly breathless but she didn't care.

"A hot one, near scalding. Just the way you like it."

"Mmm."

"Then I will scrub you clean." He nipped her ear and she shivered. "Every inch."

"I bet you would."

He grinned, looking at her from beneath his lashes and it made her heart skip. Then she drew in a deep breath, grimly wished it would sustain her during the course of this inspection while knowing it would not, pushed the door open and entered the dungeon.