Summary: Training with Vilkas isn't always the easiest thing to do.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or the world they live in (with the exception of some OCs I'm going to mention in later chapters, but they don't feature prominently in this story).
AN: This is going to be a short multi-chapter fic, which was inspired by one of those silly little NPC dialogues to which I pay far too much attention. I've already written the whole thing and will be updating soon, but comments are always appreciated.
"I don't know about this."
The intensity of Vilkas' eyes across from her made Ria want to squirm. She certainly didn't want to disappoint him, but this was too far out of her comfort zone. Swords and axes she could handle, but this was completely different.
"You're doing fine." His voice had lost some of its usual gruffness as he tried to encourage her. "Keep going. Soon, it will feel like-"
"Like a shortsword." Ria sighed. "I'd much rather wield two war axes. It just seems so slow."
"It will feel that way for a while. But, eventually, you'll get used to it, and then you'll get faster with it." He smiled at her. Surely it was some attempt to reassure her, but Ria still found herself getting impatient. She very rarely got irritated with such things, but this was trying her patience beyond its limits. She'd have to remember that, in the future, she would need to find other things to train with him on.
Anything but knitting.
The needles felt awkward in her hands. There was hardly anything there to grab on to. No leverage to work with. The way the yarn slid around on the needle threw off her balance considerably.
"It's simple, once you get used to it." Vilkas' fingers glided easily over his own set of needles, wafting the yarn over and under and over again, sliding stitches from one stick to the next with precision. "Watch my hands."
Carefully, the tip of one of knitting needles slipped through a stitch on the other. His free hand pulled the long string over, between the needles. The tip slid back through the stitch, back out the way it came, and gently pushed the stitch off. He did the same to the rest on the row, moving smoothly with the woolen yarn.
"Try."
Ria did her best to copy his actions. The needle clumsily stuck into the yarn as she tried to move it through the stitch; the yarn pulling from the ball got stuck as she tugged at it; the stitch was almost too tight for her to properly stick the needle back through. The needle stuck as she made to pull the stitch off, yarn tangling everywhere.
"What did I do?"
"You pushed the needle the wrong way. Here."
Vilkas put down his own needles and moved around her. He crouched behind her chair, moving his hands down to hers. She hoped he couldn't feel her shiver as his sleeves brushed over the bare skin of her arms.
"What you want is to put the needle the same way through the side," he explained as he untangled the sad-looking stitch she'd just attempted. "Push it up through the front-" his hands guided hers "-and bring the yarn through the back. Careful not to twist the yarn around the string, and don't pull it too tight, or you won't be able to pick it up again. Now, the needle goes back down through the front." His fingers had the softest touch, and yet they managed the move the needles effortlessly, even with Ria's hands in the way.
As his hands worked the needles, he leaned closer, pressing against her back. The rough pad of his thumb glossed over the back of her hand. His breath was warm as it blew past her cheek. She barely even noticed the ball of yarn falling off her lap and unrolling itself on the stone floor of the living quarters. For just a moment, she was completely engulfed in every sensation surrounding her.
"There."
The row was complete, and she'd somehow missed the whole thing.
"Can we do another row?" Ria hoped Vilkas didn't notice how her breath hitched. "I'd like to make sure I've got it right."
"Of course."
This time, Ria made sure to pay close attention to the exact movement of his hands. She would have to remain unfazed by the delicate touch of his fingers, by the rise and fall of the breaths in his chest, by his long hair lightly grazing against her neck...
Damn it.
She focused her eyes intently on his movements. Under, over, under, she repeated to herself as she watched. It wasn't a perfect description of the movement, but it would hopefully help. Front, back, front. Under, over, under; front, back, front. Got it. As he helped finish the row, she let out a long breath.
"Try it yourself now." He moved back to where he had been before, leaving her hands to manage the knitting needles by themselves so that he might watch her.
Ria's hands weren't quite as steady or as sure as Vilkas' had been, but she managed to do the stitches correctly this time. The stitches slipped from one needle to another with little resistance. Sure, they were a bit uneven, but she would certainly take that over impossibly wrong.
"Excellent." Vilkas beamed at her. "Like I told you, you'll get used to it, and, then, you will get faster with it."
"I don't think it'll ever come as easily as a sword, but I'll try."
For more time like this with him, she really would.