#Cause the sildrohers saw humans as beneath them so he’s probably over here like “they don’t know I literally slept with a human”

[glitter50000]

Fic inspiration

Ulla ducks her head and gives a humorless chuckle. “It was never the mother, was it?” 

Her father regards her with a pained smile. “No, it wasn’t.” 

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He loved Ulla, truly, grey skin and all, she was still his child. Her laughs and giggles would fill the air with a joyous melody. He knew Ulla showed more promise as a baby than most sildroher ever have during that age. 

On dark days a small, ugly part of him thinks of taking her back to shore, finding her birth mother, and thrusting the baby in her hands without a word as she did him, never visiting again. 

During the times when Ulla’s wails would bounce across the walls and make the flowers shrivel and rot. He didn’t have a problem with it, she had a strong voice after all, but when the others complained it was a different story. How they glared at the two of them or sneered at the baby for the tone of her cries. 

The times when his wife would look at Ulla with an odd look, something akin to fear, repulsion, or pity. When that specific look would be on him instead. He remembers squashing down the hurt at the time she recoiled at Ulla reaching her little hands out to her or having just stood there as the baby cried. 

He would never want to give Ulla away though, for he never regrets her in the first place. 

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“You can hold her if you want.” 

She’s broken out of some trance by his voice as he comes over to the crib. He chuckles a little at that, recalling the occasions when she would hold Ulla with a smile on her face, entertaining her with a song almost as if she forgets about the baby’s heritage. Though now it seems she remembers the other half. 

“She won’t bite,” he says amusedly. 

“I know that,” she mumbles, glancing at Ulla’s tail and his. He sighs and moves to pick Ulla up instead, scooping her up in his arms. 

“You must think I’m a whore.” He tells her bluntly. Sometimes he sees her looking at him with what could be a trace of disgust. Remembers how uncomfortable she seemed when they were courting each other and she first met Ulla and he confided in her about Ulla’s true parentage. Still, she wanted to marry him and look after her like she was her own, despite it all. 

“What,” she’s taken aback, “no, no I don’t think that's all, it’s just…” she trails off, gripping the edges of the crib tightly. It’s silent for a moment before his wife speaks again. 

“I wish she had been mine.” She whispers.

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He still thinks about her at times, the shadow summoner, either with anger or nostalgia. Looking back to when she made him sing symphonies during their lovemaking.

Sometimes he wonders if he ever would’ve met Ulla had she not been born with a tail. Or would she have taken her away wherever she went and he would still be waiting for the bell to ring? 

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Brave little Ulla. Coming home on the bad days when there’s too much teasing with tears in her eyes, yet still acting strong and holding her head high.