The Bride & The Other Brother
Description: Vilkas hated her the moment he met her. He didn't care if she was the Dragonborn. She was an unscrupulous thief that hid like a coward under her hood. She was not worthy of being a Companion. She was not worthy of his brother. Vilkas was storming towards the bridal suite at the Temple of Mara like a hurricane before he knew what he was doing. His hands clenched and unclenched as he positively vibrated with fury. Vilkas neared her door with a manic glint in his wild silver eyes, drawn to her like a shark was drawn to blood. His face twisted into something that was a cross between a smile and a sneer as one thought raced across his mind: The bride was in for one rude awakening. Dragonborn x Vilkas. Dragonborn x Farkas. Dragonborn x Brynjolf.
Disclaimer: Bethesda owns Skyrim and its characters. I just play with them.
Chapter 1
Vilkas sat in the very last pew by the door, arms crossed over his chest and a deep scowl on his face. Silver eyes surrounded by black war paint scanned the faces around him, all of whom were there to bear witness to the horrible travesty that was too occur in a few hours. Today, that foul, insufferable creature - the Dragonborn - was too marry his beloved twin brother.
Yeah, over Vilkas' dead body.
How these so called "friends" were allowing these two people too get married was beyond him. His loving brother was noble, kindhearted, and honorable. While that horrible, blackhearted wench of a Breton was disgraceful, cowardice, and weak.
The moment he'd met her, Vilkas knew she wasn't worthy of being a Companion. She was quiet and small - didn't even come up to his chin - and just stood there in front of him and Kodlak wearing that vile Thieves Guild Armor, which was too big on her, while she asked to join the Companions.
She was a thief! The most dishonorable sort of person, one that stole from others to fund their own selfish needs. How could someone like that be allowed to join a group as reputable and principled as the Companions?
But Kodlak liked her, said she had a fire in her heart, or some such nonsense. Since Kodlak was Harbinger and like a father to him, Vilkas had accepted the old man's judgment, though Vilkas had made his objections known not only to Kodlak, but to the Breton as well.
Following Kodlak's orders, Vilkas had taken the Breton outside to test her arm. Moments later he'd discovered that she only used daggers! Daggers! The whelp couldn't even lift a real sword! She was utterly pathetic and useless. No milk-drinker like her could possibly be called shield-sister. But again Kodlak had dismissed his objections and let the Breton girl become a Companion.
After that, Vilkas' dislike for the girl only grew. The Breton rarely said a word to anyone and was always sneaking out in the middle of the night, most likely thieving. She declined Athis' offer to teach her how to use a proper sword and she refused to wear anything other than that shameful Thieves Guild Armor. And she always had her hood up, covering her face. Vilkas had never once seen her without her hood on. How could he possibly trust someone if he'd never seen their face?
The others didn't mind her, but only because they never really noticed her. She was so quiet and unsociable that most forgot she was even there. But, of course, Farkas liked her. Vilkas' twin was constantly pestering him to "get to know the girl" and to "give her a chance", but Vilkas refused. He didn't want to get to know her. He wanted her gone. She didn't belong with them, and she knew it. So why didn't she just leave?
It infuriated him how the Breton would always come over to him whenever she entered a room he was in. She would sit beside him and ask him questions about himself, his brother, or the Companions. Once he relented and answered her questions, she would usually stay at his table - much to Vilkas' dismay - though she rarely spoke when she did, which was nice.
Then she would only take jobs from him, which irritated him. And she was rarely able to complete the jobs he did assign her. The first job he sent her on was so simple a skeever could've completed it.
But oh no, not this girl.
She was supposed to find Xander and rough him up a bit by initiating a bare-knuckle fight. Xander ended up dragging the Breton back to Jorrvaskr after he'd knocked her out. After recovering from the injuries Xander had given her, the Breton had asked Vilkas for a new job. He gave her the same job again. This time she cheated and had a member of the Thieves Guild do the job for her. A dishonorable, deceiving, weakling – that's what she was. How the hell was that wimp supposed to fight dragons… and win? If that milk-drinker truly was the Dragonborn, then they were all doomed to suffer in Oblivion.
Still, she'd somehow managed to stay alive long enough to be asked to go on a special mission with Farkas a few weeks later. It was there that she saw Farkas transform into a werewolf. Once she'd learned their little secret, Vilkas was positive she would pack her bags and be long gone by the time Farkas had returned to Jorrvaskr.
Nope.
The intolerable creature still remained, like a cold sore on the inside of his cheek.
After that, things got worse. The Breton started searching him out at all hours of the day, asking him idiotic and mundane questions about being a werewolf. She would come into his room completely unannounced, flip through his books, eat all his sweet rolls, and play with his weapons until she'd dropped them so many times they'd become dull and needed to be sharpened again.
Vilkas hated her. She had become an ever-present torment and the bane of his existence! He never saw her annoying anyone else with her inane prodding and trespassing. Rather, she still remained mostly mute and reserved around the others. So why did she hound him so?
A few weeks later the Breton gladly took the beast-blood from Aela, as though she didn't care what happened to her soul. Vilkas figured she most likely didn't have one to tarnish in the first place.
After her first transformation, Skjor died.
The Breton made Aela come with her to seek revenge against the Silver Hand. What a stupid, stupid girl. Aela didn't need to seek revenge. She needed to mourn over the death of her lover. But the Breton didn't care. All that mattered to her was satisfying her blood lust.
When the two women returned to Jorrvaskr days later from their quest for revenge, Vilkas had yelled at the Breton, telling her how reckless and stupid she was. Because of her actions, Skjor was dead and the Silver Hand had declared war against them. While he'd yelled at her, she didn't say one word. She'd simply stood there in her tattered and bloodied thief armor, her face hidden under that vile hood, silent as the grave, as if she didn't care that one of their own was dead or that their home was now under attack. As if none of them mattered to her. Vilkas had wanted to rip that hood back and look into her eyes to see if they were as black as her heart.
Vilkas avoided the Breton after that like the plague. The wench would still come sit beside him, but Vilkas would stand the moment she sat next to him and storm out of the room. She'd followed him the first couple of times, but stopped once he started shouting at her to leave him the hell alone.
"So, your this 'Vilkas' everyone's been talking about, huh?" A masculine voice said, pulling Vilkas from his thoughts. Vilkas looked up to find a male Nord turned around in the pew in front of him, grinning at him like a fool. He had long, shaggy brown hair, brown eyes, and a goatee. "Names Vipir, Vipir the Fleet," the Nord said pleasantly with an outstretched hand.
Vilkas eyed the other man's hand suspiciously before shaking it once. "Vilkas."
"So, you're the brother of the groom?"
"Yes," Vilkas grumbled. "Unfortunately."
The other Nord tilted his head to the side, eying him curiously. "Unfortunate that he's your brother, or unfortunate that he's the groom?"
Vilkas scowled. "The latter."
Vipir laughed. "Don't like the bride much, huh?"
Vilkas leveled the man with a cold, hard stare. "No."
Vipir's grin faltered in the face of such a viciously nasty glare and cold penetrating eyes. Nervously, he cleared his throat, "Well, she's no angel, but she's family."
If it were at all possible, Vilkas' glare deepened. "And just how is she family?"
Vipir awkwardly rubbed the back of his head, unnerved by the other man's ferocity and intensity. "We're both members of the Thieves Guild." The man chuckled, and then said mostly to himself, "Brynjolf's going to lose it when he hears she's getting married."
Vilkas' eyes fell to the thief armor the man was wearing and he sneered with contempt. "So, you're a disgusting street rat that steals from honest people, just like her?"
Vipir's eyebrows flew up and he quickly held up his hands in a placating manner. "Whoa... what's with all the hostility? I was just trying to make conversation."
Vilkas' eyes flashed an abnormal shade of yellow and his lips curled back to reveal freakishly long and sharp teeth. "If you knew what was good for you, thief, you'd get out of my sight." His voice was unnaturally deep, nothing more than a growl that seemed to vibrate from somewhere deep inside his chest. He sounded more beast than man, his aura practically feral, and Vipir was already across the room and out the door before Vilkas could even blink.
Vilkas dropped his head in his hands and rubbed his face.
Talos save me, I'm loosing it, he thought. He'd really wanted that thief's blood on his hands and on his teeth just then. The beast inside of him was practically howling for it.
Damn it all to Oblivion, Vilkas groaned inwardly. I really need to keep it together. I really need to calm down and reel the beast in before I do something really stupid, like transform and slaughter everyone here. I need to get a grip. I need to calm down... but how can I when the woman that caused Kodlak's death is about to marry my brother!
Weeks after her revenge quest with Aela, the Breton had disappeared. No one knew where she'd gone, or if she was ever returning. Vilkas had been furious. How could she cause all these problems for them and then just abandon them! How heartless did someone have to be to start a war and then run away like a cowardly bitch with their tail between their legs!
They'd been attacked a few days later while eating dinner. Kodlak had been laughing at a joke Torvar had said when a silver sword was plunged through his heart. He died instantly. It became a frenzy of fighting, blood, and death after that. His home had become a battleground that was soaked with the blood of his family. Once it was over, the stink of death and blood had been so potent in the air that Vilkas could no longer breath it in. He'd escaped out the front doors of Jorrvaskr for some much needed fresh air when he saw her, the Breton, walking up the steps towards him.
She carried a bag that was dripping crimson at the bottom. Her thief armor had been covered in dirt and blood, she'd walked with a limp, and the only parts of her face that were visible to him under her hood - the tip of her nose, lips, and chin - were caked in dried blood.
Vilkas' vision had faded to red at the sight of her and he was on her in an instant, snarling and screaming in her face, calling her every name imaginable, and blaming her for Kodlak's death. It was her fault Kodlak was murdered because she hadn't been there to protect Jorrvaskr! To protect their home!
She had remained silent as he vented his anger on her. When he was done her quiet voice had spoken, telling him that Kodlak had sent her on a mission, one that would cure their lycanthropy. She told him about the Glenmoril Witches and how she had failed in collecting all of their heads. After taking one of the witches' heads, she had become outnumbered and injured and was forced to flee the cave. When she returned the next day after healing herself, the witches were gone.
While a part of him had been glad to hear that they could at least free Kodlak's soul, the rest of him had been boiling with unbridled rage, incited by the roaring beast inside of him. Because of her foolhardiness, weakness, and incompetence as a warrior, he would never be able to meet Kodlak again in Sovngarde, never be able to spend an eternity in Shor's wondrous hall. Rather, his soul would be claimed by Hircine for his Great Hunt.
Vilkas had snapped then, his beast-blood demanding retribution for everything the foul woman had stolen from him, and he had tried to attack her. But Farkas had stopped him, restrained him from ripping out her fucking throat.
Vilkas had run off then into the night. He needed to let his inner beast free. He needed to hunt them down. He needed to tear the one's responsible apart with his bare claws, and think of her while he did it. All he could feel was the uncontrollable fury raging like a frenzy in his veins. He just wanted blood. He wanted to see it on his claws and taste it on his fangs. Once he was in the woods, he let himself go. It felt good to let loose after refraining for so long. When he transformed back into a human in the morning, Vilkas was covered in blood. Not his own, but the Silver Hand's. He had killed every living thing in their base. And he had enjoyed it. After bathing in a nearby lake, he'd found some clothes and returned to Jorrvaskr.
The Breton had been waiting for him in his room, sitting on his bed, looking as though she hadn't eaten or bathed or changed since the night before. She had tried to apologize to him, but Vilkas wouldn't hear it. His fury was still there, white-hot and simmering beneath the surface of his skin, his heart still broken from all that he had lost because of her. He'd grabbed her arm and thrown her out of his room, telling her never to return or speak to him ever again.
That night, Aela had sought Vilkas out. She'd crawled into his bed seeking comfort, and he gave it to her. She cried into his chest while he whispered consoling words in her ear and ran his fingers soothingly through her hair. Aela had kissed him, and Vilkas had returned it. At some point their clothes had been removed and he was moving inside of her. They were using each other to keep the loneliness at bay and to escape their own personal demons. Aela used Vilkas to forget about Skjor and her broken heart, while Vilkas used Aela to numb the pain Kodlak's death had caused him as well as the knowledge that he would never be cured of the beast-blood. The next morning, Vilkas and Aela had dressed quickly and in complete silence. They'd each gotten what they wanted from the other and now, that the deed was done, nothing more needed to be said.
Vilkas had opened his door to find the Breton girl waiting for him with an apology falling from her lips and a sweet roll in her hands lifted towards him in a peace offering. Vilkas had stared down at her, then the sweet roll, then her again, unsure of what to do or say.
Aela had appeared in the doorway then, straitening her disheveled clothes and hair, asking who was at the door. Though he couldn't see the Breton's eyes under her hood, Vilkas could see her head turn slightly every so often, as if she were looking back and forth between him and Aela. The Breton had then muttered an apology before shoving the sweet roll at him and rushing down the hall as if Daedra were nipping at her heels.
The Breton never sought him out after that. She never came to sit beside him, never came to his room to bother him and look through his books and eat his sweet rolls, never asked him silly questions or played with his weapons. Vilkas had been relieved that he was finally free of her, but a very small, very minuscule part of him had felt disappointed and guilty at her distance, and somewhat remorseful.
Several times Aela had come to him in the middle of the night, removing her clothes and slipping into his bed. Vilkas had refused her every time, ordering her to return to her own room. Vilkas had been vexed to discover that Aela was growing clingy and demanding. It had become apparent to him that Aela no longer only wanted him as a source of comfort and a means to chase away ghosts, but as something more. That was something he was not comfortable with. Aela wasn't what he wanted.
As Vilkas distanced himself from Aela, that's when the Breton began spending a lot of time with Farkas. They would go on jobs together, drink at the Bannered Mare together, sit beside each other at the far end of the dinner table, and occasionally Vilkas would hear her laugh coming from his brother's room at night. Their closeness bothered him, though he wasn't entirely sure why. He assumed it was because he didn't want her influencing his brother, turning him into something ignoble and detestable like her.
It wasn't long until Vilkas began noticing the longing looks and furtive touches his twin would give the thief. Vilkas warned Farkas not to get involved with her. He reminded his twin of all her faults and follies, warned him of the harm she would inevitably cause him. But Farkas had merely brushed his warnings aside and simply said, "You just don't know her brother."
A few weeks later, Vilkas had been outraged to learn that Kodlak had named the Breton the next Harbinger in his journal. Farkas had been ecstatic and had thrown her a party at the Bannered Mare to celebrate her new title, but Vilkas had refused to attend. He refused to allow that immoral creature to be the leader of the family he loved so much. Plus, she didn't even seem to care that she'd been made Harbinger! When asked if she would accept the position, she'd merely shrugged and said sure.
While the others had celebrated, Vilkas had fumed in his room. The Breton would run the good name of the Companions through the dirt and make them just as sullied and disrespected as that Thieves Guild of hers. She would be the end of the Companions. He was sure of it.
The next morning a white envelope was slid under his door. Vilkas had picked it up, opened it, and had nearly fallen over when he read that Farkas had proposed to the Breton the night before at the Bannered Mare and that she had accepted. The two were to be wed in Riften at the end of the week.
And now Vilkas was here, on the dreaded day, at the Temple of Mara, stewing with a ferocious rage the likes of which he had never experienced before.
Vilkas hated Riften. It was a city of cheats and backstabbing snakes. It was a city where the worst of humanity collected the poison of Skyrim. It was here, in this gods forsaken city, where his sweet brother would be entrapped and devoured by that she-devil. He couldn't allow that to happen. He had to do something. He couldn't let this wedding take place!
"Vilkas," Aela purred in his ear, pulling him from his thoughts. Vilkas hadn't even noticed she'd taken the seat beside him in the pew. "I like you without your armor. You look… delectable."
Vilkas looked down at his attire. He wore a black tunic with loose black pants and boots. All of the guests had been told not to wear armor so that the ceremony didn't feel quite like a gang of warriors in preparation for battle.
"I prefer my armor," he grumbled.
"Hmm. But why the long face? Aren't you happy for your brother?"
"No," he answered curtly, pulling away from her when she ran her fingers through his hair.
Aela frowned at Vilkas' refusal of her touch and muttered, "You should congratulate them. They're both in the back getting ready."
Vilkas abruptly stood and was storming towards the bridal suite like a hurricane before he knew what he was doing. His hands clenched and unclenched as he positively vibrated with fury. He was going to find the Breton and force her to end the engagement. He would not be calling that dreadful girl "sister". Not ever!
Vilkas made a sharp left after passing the alter and spotted the door that said "Bride" on it. Vilkas neared the door with a manic glint in his wild silver eyes, drawn to her like a shark was drawn to blood. His face twisted into something that was a cross between a smile and a sneer as one thought raced across his mind…
The bride was in for one rude awakening.
Vilkas barged into the room, slamming the door shut behind him, fully prepared to fight the Harbinger of the Companions if he had too in order to protect his brother.
But Vilkas didn't find the Harbinger in the room, instead he found a young woman sitting at a wooden vanity with her long flowing, golden locks spilling down the length of her back. The woman turned her head and met his gaze. Vilkas' breath caught in his chest as he stared into the greenest eyes he'd ever seen. They were large and expressive and a dark, rich shade of green that sparkled like two emerald gemstones fringed with long black lashes. Those captivating green eyes were set in a small pixyish face with soft tiny features, porcelain skin, a button nose, and full pink lips. She was… more beautiful than beautiful.
Vilkas noticed the lute resting on the vanity and realized she was a bard, probably there to play music during the ceremony. "Sorry, bard. I thought this was the bride's room," Vilkas said as he stepped backwards towards the door.
The pretty blonde laughed a soft and gentle bell-like laugh that was purely genuine and uninhibited. The sound caused Vilkas to pause in his retreat. "I wouldn't say I was a bard. I just joined the Bard's College a few days ago. I was trying to figure out how to play this retched instrument, but I don't think I was ever meant to wield it."
Vilkas nodded. "Sorry for disturbing you. Excuse me."
"Vilkas… do you not recognize me?" The woman said as she stood, her lithe figure and feminine curves accentuated by the simple, demure, white silk dress that she wore, the thin straps exposing an ample amount of creamy, ivory skin. No scars marred her skin and she lacked the muscle definition every warrior had. Soft, that's what she was.
Vilkas shook his head as he racked his brain for any memory of her, but he was coming up empty. "I'm sorry. I don't think we've ever-"
"It's me… Faye."
His heart stopped. "Faye?"
Vilkas stood gaping at her. It was impossible. It couldn't be her. This woman could not be the Harbinger of the Companions, the woman he's loathed for months.
Faye smiled at him then and Vilkas' chest tightened in response to it.
Her smile was like a breath of spring.
Vilkas quickly forced himself to remember who exactly this woman was. Even though her face and body revealed nothing but transcendent beauty, it merely concealed the corroded remains of her black heart. She was still the soulless bitch who was responsible for Skjor's death, for Kodlak's death, for the war now raging against the Silver Hand, for stealing away his right to Sovngarde, and for inevitably ruining the Companions and his brother's life. With those dark, spiteful thoughts rolling around in his brain, Vilkas' admiring gaze slowly darkened and twisted, transforming into a savage glare that was reserved for his worst enemies.
"Ah, there it is," Faye uttered with a small, sad smile. "I was wondering where your glare went. You've never looked at me without it. I almost didn't recognize you. Especially in those clothes your wearing."
Vilkas' hands curled into fists at his sides and he strode over to her like a man hell bent on vengeance, his jaw locked like a vice, his lips curled back from his teeth in a feral snarl. "I will not let you marry my brother!"
She blinked. "Why not?"
"Because he deserves a whole hell of a lot better than you!" Vilkas bellowed.
Her eyes fell to the floor and her voice was soft and somber as she answered, "I know he deserves better than me."
Vilkas stopped in his tracks, taken aback by her words. "Then stop this."
"I... I can't." She looked up at him with a wholly vulnerable expression. "I care for him, Vilkas. You're brother is very important to me. I know he can do better than me, but I'll spend the rest of my life trying to be the woman he deserves." Faye sighed miserably. "Look, Vilkas, I know you despise me. You always have. But I'm going to be apart of your family after today. And I hope that... I hope we can be friends."
"I could never be friends with someone like you," Vilkas hissed.
Faye looked away with a sullen pout. "I figured you'd say that. I know you have several... issues with me." Vilkas snorted and Faye ignored it. "So, I tried to alleviate them as best as I could. I know I have a long way to go, but I hope that they'll at least ease some of the tension between us."
Vilkas crossed his arms over his chest and stared her down with his most ferocious glare, and rumbled, "Most unlikely."
Faye clasped her hands in front of her body and nervously bit her lip. "First of all, I'm sorry for not being there to protect Jorrvaskr when the Silver Hand attacked. Kodlak's death was my fault. I should have been there. And I wasn't. If I had... things might have turned out differently."
Vilkas grunted, unmoved by her words.
"Secondly, I'm sorry for taking the beast-blood. No one told me the effects it would have on my soul. If I had known, I would have refused it."
His eyes tightened. "So why did you accept it?"
She blushed an appealing shade of red. "I... just wanted to fit in."
He scoffed, "An idiotic reason to become a raging, soulless beast."
She rolled her eyes. "Yes, I'm a stupid girl. I'm very well aware. You've made that perfectly clear. Multiple times."
Vilkas shrugged. "At least you're aware of your faults."
"Anyways," Faye said through gritted teeth as she tried to rein in her temper. "I'm sorry for Skjor. We attacked the Silver Hand that night because of me. Aela convinced me to seek revenge. I knew it was stupid and would only lead to more bloodshed, but she was my friend and she was hurting and it seemed the only way to ease her pain. It didn't, of course, it only made things worse." She shook her head dejectedly. "I make the worst decisions."
Vilkas growled, "And yet you are our Harbinger."
Faye groaned. "I know. I don't know what Kodlak was thinking. It should have been you. Everybody knows that." She turned those large jade eyes on him. "So, I called a meeting yesterday and put it to a vote. It was unanimous. Every Companion, including myself, believes you are the true Harbinger. And so... you are." The corner of her lips pulled up. "Congratulations, Harbinger."
Vilkas blinked and slowly unfolded his arms. He was the new Harbinger? And he had the full support of his family?
"Oh, and I realize that we wouldn't be at war with the Silver Hand if it wasn't for me. So, as my last act of Harbinger, I contacted the leader of the Thieves Guild, he's an old friend, and had him send out every thief in his guild to search every inch of Skyrim and locate every Silver Hand base. I then called in a few favors and hired the Dark Brotherhood to eliminate them, wiping out the Silver Hand for good." Vilkas opened his mouth to speak, but she held up her hand. "I don't condone death on such a large scale either, but the members of the Silver Hand are sadistic bastards that get their kicks off of torturing others. They deserve to be wiped out," she hissed venomously, her voice ringing with ardor as flames danced across the green fields of her eyes.
Vilkas' eyes widened. He'd never seen such passion from her. The fire it brought to her eyes... it was enticing.
Faye continued, "The Dark Brotherhood gets a big kill that will improve their reputation, and in return they'll spread the message around Skyrim that anyone who kills werewolves will be eliminated as well. That way the Silver Hand can never be rebuilt."
Vilkas grunted, acknowledging her words, and though his expression was impassive, his mind was reeling. He was trying not to let those leafy-green eyes or her seemingly sincere words get to him, but he was failing miserably. Vilkas was starting to have trouble matching this woman with the wench he had in his mind.
"And finally... I know how much reaching Sovngarde means to you. When I attacked the witches, I did so without a plan, thinking it would be a walk in the park." She shook her head, expression grim, as angry and regretful tears pricked her eyes. "I was reckless and stupid, over eager to deliver a cure to you." She visibly swallowed. "...and Farkas," she added as an afterthought. "I killed the first witch without trying to be stealthy, and the spiders the witches kept as pets alerted the others to my presence. With both the witches and the spiders attacking me at once... I wasn't strong enough to defeat them." Faye dug her palms into her eyelids to fight the tears that wished to fall. She would not cry in front of Vilkas. He already thought her worthless and weak.
Vilkas sighed heavily and averted his gaze from the tearful woman. "The witches are gone. There's no use wallowing over it now."
Faye took a deep breath and wiped her eyes before looking up at him. "The guilt that I felt - stealing away your redemption - it ate away at me. I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep. I knew I had to do something to set things right."
Steel-colored eyes flickered to her. "What are you talking about?"
"I searched for the witches. I searched and searched, until finally I found them, with a little help from a... friend. This time I attacked with a plan and others at my side."
Faye walked over to the window where her pack sat on the floor beside a large grey sack. She picked up the sack and approached him. "Here," she said, holding the sack out to him.
"What's this?" Vilkas inquired as he took the sack that was surprisingly heavy.
With a small smile she replied, "The rest of the witches' heads."
His eyes flew wide open. "What?!"
"I already used one to cure myself. Farkas has one as well, but he hasn't used it yet. He said he wanted to cure himself with you at his side. The rest are for you and Aela. If you wish for a shield-sister to accompany you when you fight your inner wolf, I'd be more than happy to help you."
Vilkas stared down at the sack of salvation in his hand, dumbstruck. "But... you... why...?"
Her voice came out gentle and brimming with sincerity. "I couldn't live with myself knowing I'd damned your soul and everybody else's to be claimed by Hircine. I had to atone for my failures." Her emerald eyes became soft and open, unbelievably honest. "Every soul deserves redemption, Vilkas. Especially yours."
Vilkas blinked at her. That was all he was able to do. His words were lodged in his throat and his mind was tangled in knots. As Faye tucked a golden lock of hair demurely behind her ear, Vilkas realized he knew nothing about this woman and had labeled her wrongly from the moment he'd met her. "You have a heart," Vilkas finally managed to utter in a low, deep voice. "How come I've never seen it before?"
Faye smiled softly, her cheeks blushing. "I know I tend to... keep myself hidden. I've been doing it for so long that it's just become a part of who I am."
The two fell silent as they continued to stare at each other. The Breton was nervous, praying that Vilkas would accept her apology. Whereas the Nord was trying desperately to hang onto the image of a villain he'd painted of her in his mind. Because if she wasn't the villain he'd always made her out to be, then... then he'd made a terrible mistake. Not only for treating her more harshly than he should have, but for ruining any friendship they could've had. He came in here ready for a fight, but now he was as tranquil as a forest. Something about her calmed him, tamed the beast inside of him, yet stirred him in a way he hadn't expected.
Vilkas slowly placed the sack on the ground. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but..." Vilkas approached her and tried to ignore the way her closeness made his pulse race. "I wish you'd let yourself be seen more often." A rare smile that was positively devastating formed on his lips as he placed a gentle hand on her upper arm. "Because you are... one of the most exquisite things I've ever seen. I'm sorry for misjudging you."
Faye's eyebrows flew up into her hairline at his words, and she suppressed the shiver that wished to run down her spine from his warm touch on her bare skin. "Thank you, Vilkas. That was... very kind of you to say." Faye fidgeted with her hands when his fingers began to idly trace little circles on her skin causing knots to form in her stomach. "I know I have a long way to go to gain your friendship, but I hope this means we're on the right path towards it. I know Farkas will be overjoyed to see us getting along."
Vilkas' smile slowly faded from his lips. "Farkas..." He muttered under his breath, and quickly pulled his hand from her flesh as if it had burned him.
Shit! ShitShitShit! I was just hitting on my brother's fiancé! She's wearing the fucking wedding dress! What the hell is wrong with me! Vilkas' mind screamed at him. He swallowed hard and looked around the room awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with the blonde as he mentally berated himself.
"Ummm, I was about to have a glass of wine to help settle my nervous." He heard her melodic voice utter. "Would you like to join me?"
Vilkas looked at her and, for some reason even he couldn't fathom, he nodded. Faye smiled up at him and his chest tightened again at the sight of it.
Shor's blood, Vilkas inwardly groaned. I'm in trouble.
Vilkas shook his head as he headed for the small table at the back of the room that was separated two black armchairs. He fell into one of the armchairs while Faye put her lute on the floor and picked up a bottle of Black-Briar Reserve and two wine glasses off the vanity. She approached him, her svelte figure flowing with her graceful movements, her hips swaying slightly in the white silk that hugged her slight feminine curves. By the time she stopped in front of him Vilkas' mouth was dry and a large lump was lodged in his throat.
Damn, how come I've never noticed the way she moved before? Vilkas frowned at his thoughts. Because she didn't want anyone to notice her. That's why she wore that damn hood all the time.
Faye placed both glasses on the small table and leaned over to pour them each a full glass. His gaze fell to the view she had unknowingly given him of her full supple breasts under the white silk, and Vilkas felt himself twitch in response. He couldn't help it. She was entirely too desirable for him to ignore.
His gaze snapped to her face when she handed him a glass and sat with her own in the other chair beside him. The two relaxed in their respective chairs, sipping their wine, though there was a tension in the air that they both felt.
"Thank you for coming to the wedding, Vilkas," Faye said quietly around her glass, trying to break the nearly suffocating tension. "I feared you wouldn't attend."
Vilkas grimaced and took a hefty swallow. "I wouldn't miss my twin's wedding."
"Have you seen him yet?"
"No."
Faye chuckled. "That might be a good thing. This morning, Ria told me how they all took Farkas out to celebrate last night, and that Torvar and Njada got him completely drunk. Ria said she and Athis looked after him, but that he has a horrible hangover." Her smile turned from one of amusement to one of affection as she uttered, "Poor Farkas. I hope he's okay."
Vilkas grinned slightly. "I know my brother. It'll have passed by now."
Faye nodded, not sure what else to say. They continued to drink wordlessly as the tension escalated. After a few minutes and another refill, Vilkas turned his head and looked at Faye, studying her profile. He then asked the one question he'd been dying to ask her for some time now. "Tell me, why did you join the Companions?"
Faye sipped her wine, pondering his question. "Well... you see... I know I'm not the strongest warrior..."
Vilkas scoffed. "That's an understatement."
Faye rolled her eyes. "Okay, barely a warrior. I admit it. Look, I was raised in the life of a thief, and so those are the skills I have. I can pick any lock with my eyes closed, sneak into any location undetected, lift a man's wedding ring without him even noticing... but I don't know how to kill." She snorted. "And why would I? I'm not part of the Dark Brotherhood." She exhaled heavily. "But now I'm supposed to fight dragons. Dragons!" Her head fell into her hand as if the mere memory that she was Dragonborn brought her nothing but grief. "A thief as a dragon slayer," she mumbled into her palm, "some god has a horrible sense of humor."
Vilkas leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "So, you came to us to learn how to handle a blade? I can understand that. But why then turn down Athis when he offered to help you?"
She gave him a quizzical look. "Because I'm no good with a blade. I'm only good with a bow. Didn't you know that? I had Aela teach me in archery. I've gotten better with her help. We meet at night to practice before she hunts."
So that explained her sneaking out at night, Vilkas thought. He rubbed his jaw. "But you could've gone to any expert archer to learn how to use a bow. Why the Companions?"
Faye didn't respond. She simply watched her finger as it drew little circles on her silk covered thigh. "As the Dragonborn, I'm supposed to be this big hero, someone who is strong, fearless, and righteous. A leader people can follow, an idol they can aspire too, a champion they can place their hope in." Large, emerald eyes flickered to him. "And when I think of someone like that... I think of the Companions. I think of someone like you."
He tilted his head to the side, probing her face. "You don't think of yourself?"
She laughed. "Hell no. I'm beaten most of the time, terrified stiff the rest. I have no idea what I'm doing. I'm mostly just trying to survive, and barely able to succeed at that."
Vilkas leaned back in his chair and lifted his glass to his lips before mumbling, "You're not as bad as you think."
Faye blushed at the compliment, shocked really, especially from the person offering it. Discreetly, she lifted one hand to her now flaming cheek. She was supposed to be settling her nerves, not agitating them further. How was he able to get under her skin and bother her so? And Vilkas just sat there, not a nerve out of place, while hers were fraying at the seams. Gods, she needed another drink.
Faye abruptly stood and quickly refilled both their glasses. Her thin white strap slid off her shoulder, and the coy image of her stirred Vilkas' loins. Oblivious to his sudden craving to run his fingertips along her collarbone, Faye slipped the white strap back onto her shoulder and picked her glass up and sat back in her chair. She brought the glass to her lips and sipped slowly. Her expression slowly became dark and morose, her green eyes cloudy. "What are you thinking about?" Vilkas asked warily as he watched her out of the corner of his eye.
"So, you and Aela?" Faye asked quickly without looking at him, Vilkas's last words barely out of his mouth, her voice as tight as her eyes.
Vilkas tried to read her expression, but he couldn't. Her guard was up. Apprehensively, he replied, "What about us?"
"Will you two be the next to marry?" She laughed but it was a brittle sound and terribly forced. "Everyone had bets on you two getting engaged before Farkas and I. Let's just say there were a lot of unhappy betters when I accepted Farkas' proposal at the Bannered Mare."
"How did Farkas propose?" Vilkas asked, genuinely curious but also hoping she'd get distracted and forget about her question.
"Oh, that's right. You weren't there," she said pleasantly, but Vilkas picked up on the hint of hurt and resentment in her voice. "Let's see, Farkas picked me up, causing me to spill my mead all over the two of us. He sat me on his knee and said, 'You and me. Forever. How bout it?'" Faye giggled. "And I said yes."
Vilkas blinked. "By the Nine, that was terrible."
She gawked at him. "No it wasn't. It was sweet."
He rubbed his forehead. "By Talos, my brother should have come to me first. I could've given him something much better to say."
Faye gave him a pointed look. "Don't be angry with Farkas for not coming to you beforehand. You've always hated me. What did you expect him to do?"
Vilkas cringed slightly and mumbled, "Aye."
They continued to drink quietly, each lost in their own thoughts, until Faye's gentle voice broke the silence. "What would you have said?"
Vilkas looked at her with furrowed brows. "Huh?"
Faye didn't look at him, but Vilkas could see the blush on her cheeks as she clarified, "You said you would've given Farkas something better to say. What would you have said?"
Vilkas thought for a moment. "Well... I would have told him not to propose at the Bannered Mare." Faye chuckled and Vilkas grinned slightly at the sound. "I would have told him to take you somewhere nice, somewhere romantic, somewhere special."
She was looking at him now with large, open green eyes, hanging on his every word. "What else?"
Unconsciously, his voice dropped to a low, husky whisper, "I would've told him to buy a ring - a gold one with emeralds to match your eyes."
Vilkas saw her swallow as she placed her elbow on the table between then and lean into him. "What else?" Her voice was as low and soft and lovely as a bard singing a lullaby to a child.
Vilkas leaned into her as well, his arm resting on the table next to hers. "I would have... put the ring on your finger and watched the way it lit up your face." She smiled at that, one that seemed to brighten the whole room, and his fingers itched to touch her. "Then I would have... touched your cheek as I looked into your eyes..." Vilkas gave into the itch and cupped her heated cheek, marveling at the softness of her skin as he looked deep into those captivating jade orbs. "...and told you that you were the sun that my world revolved around. That you were the one thing I couldn't live without. That a life without you, as my wife, would be meaningless."
As his fingertips stroked her cheekbone, Faye tried to ignore the way his intense gaze made her melt and the way his touch caused her pulse to race, but she couldn't ignore the way her body stirred to life as the tension between them tightened and expanded, building into something new.
As he caressed her skin, Vilkas watched her eyes dampen and shimmer as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. Talos, she was lovely. Realizing what he was doing, he quickly pulled his hand away from her cheek and ran it through his messy ebony hair. "I don't know... something like that," he muttered, trying to shake off his desire.
Faye was frozen in place. After a few seconds, she came back to herself and sat back in her chair, looking blankly inscrutable. After several silent moments, she finally uttered, "That was... very lovely, Vilkas." There was a sharp edge to her voice, and her lips were turned down at the corners. "I'm sure Aela will love it."
Vilkas' eyes snapped to her face and he quickly replied, "I didn't say-"
"Snowberry?" Faye offered hastily as she grabbed the bowl of fruit off the table and shoved it in his face, cutting him off.
Vilkas frowned, remembering how she'd done something similar before with a sweet roll. He shook his head, declining the fruit.
The girl shrugged her shoulders and plucked one small, red fruit from the bowl and brought it to her pink lips. Her mouth opened and closed around the ripe fruit, her lips puckering as she chewed slowly. Vilkas was suddenly envious of a piece of fruit that he'd stepped on numerous times on his way to Winterhold. Faye's eyelids fluttered shut and she released a soft moan as she chewed the delectable fruit, that just so happened to be her favorite. Vilkas watched enraptured as she slowly licked her lips, sucking all the juice into her mouth. He shifted awkwardly in his seat as his pants suddenly became uncomfortably tight.
Gods, how could he want her this much? Hadn't he hated her? Hadn't he loathed her? How could everything have been flipped over so quickly? Maybe it was because she was stunning, or just something he couldn't have, or maybe it was because she was his brother's and they've each wanted what the other had ever since they were pups. Or maybe it was because he never really hated her, just misunderstood her, but never realized it until now. Vilkas bit the inside of his cheek. Whatever the reason, he had to control these dark and twisted desires that were coursing through him. Nothing good would come of them.
Faye watched the multitude of expressions running across Vilkas' face. She saw confusion, shame, and something else she didn't comprehend that darkened his eyes. That last look frightened her. She'd always been inexplicably drawn to Vilkas, like a burglar to a jewel. He was gorgeous and strong, virtuous and honorable, fierce as a sabre cat in battle, and had the brains of Ysgramor. But there was something else about him that pulled at her heart. There was a fire in him that burned as bright and hot as the sun. A fire that seemed to fan the flames of passion within her own heart until she felt it melt within her chest just by looking at him.
In the beginning, she'd tried to speak with him, to get closer to him. But he'd always push her away, wanting nothing to do with her. When she saw him with Aela, she knew she had to get over the stupid crush she'd developed for him. She forced herself to accept that he hated her, would always hate her, and that any sort of relationship she wanted for them would never be. So, she moved on, and thankfully found someone who did notice her.
But now Vilkas was looking at her in such a way that seemed to light a flame under her heart once again. Why did he have to look at her like that when it was too late? Why did he notice her only now when she was already promised to another, to his brother no less? Couldn't he see how that look was killing her, making her wish for things that could never be?
Needing him to leave now, right now, Faye quickly stood and put her glass on the table and said, "Well, I think it's time for me to put on my veil and finish getting ready."
After being slightly stunned at her sudden and peculiar behavior, Vilkas stood and put his glass down as well.
Faye turned to face him. "Thank you, Vilkas, for speaking with me and for accepting my apology." Her slender arms went around him and pulled him into a tight embrace. Vilkas stiffened before slowly relaxing and letting his arms encircle her to return the embrace. Faye couldn't help herself and breathed in his masculine, woodsy scent. It was a tantalizing combination of pine trees, dry leaves, and forest fire. She had to force herself not to burying her nose in his clothes and breath more of him in.
Vilkas heard her sigh softly against his chest and his grip involuntarily tightened on her. She was so small and warm, so soft and delicate, so utterly feminine. Gods, he wanted her badly. The mere scent of her skin was driving him made with desire. What was it about her that affected him so? Whatever it was, it was no good for either of them.
Faye slowly pulled away from him and Vilkas found himself staring transfixed across the small space between them at the Dragonborn's slightly parted lips. The things he wanted to hear coming from that sweet little mouth. He wanted his name falling from those pink lips over and over again as he brought her to her peak.
As his silver eyes dropped and became fixated on her mouth, looking like a wolf that literally wanted to eat her, Faye felt the change in the atmosphere around them immediately. It felt as if there was this electric current pulsing between them, causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand on end. Why was he looking at her like that? What was going through his mind? He had Aela and she had Farkas. She was over him, had moved on, was getting married. So why did she have the sudden urge to touch him again and take in more of his scent?
"What?!" Faye abruptly blurted out, unable to stand another second of his intense staring.
"I was just thinking…" Irresistibly impelled, Vilkas lifted his hand to cup her face. His thumb brushed across her soft cheek before sliding down her smooth neck to her shoulder leaving goosebumps in its wake. His rough, callused hand then rounded her shoulder and moved slowly down her arm, his fingernails trailing lightly over her skin. The words left his mouth unbidden in a gravelly whisper before he could even think to reel them in, "Why do you hide you face?" He leaned towards her, their breaths mingling, his eyes intent on hers. "Especially when it could steal the breath of any man who's eyes fell upon it."
Faye's heart sped up at the sound of his voice, so decadent and rich that it was a sin. His eyes were hooded, their intent wholly hidden from her, but he was studying her with such overwhelming intensity that she had to bite down hard on her lower lip to stop it from quivering as her stomach fluttered. This was… wrong. Her betrothed's brother shouldn't be looking at her like that or making her stomach flutter the way it was.
"I think you should leave," Faye muttered before taking a step back.
Vilkas' hand shot out and grasped her wrist to keep her from retreating entirely. Faye started from the sudden movement and from the feel of electricity running up her arm, leaving her skin tingling under his touch. She forced her gaze to the ground and whispered, "Vilkas…" His hold on her wrist only tightened at the sound of her voice. "…please… let go of me."
After a moment's hesitation, Vilkas did as she asked and released her wrist. Faye's fingers rubbed over the skin he had touched as she collected herself and forced her breathing to steady. "Thank you, Vilkas, for your visit. Now, if you don't mind, I have to finish getting ready for my wedding." Faye didn't even wait for his reply as she was already heading for the door. She yanked on the handle and held it open for him, watching him, waiting for him to leave her alone.
Vilkas stared at the open door and felt a strange sense of panic settle in. The sinking feeling he'd felt when she'd stopped talking to him was back again, but this time it was so much worse. He felt like she was slipping away from him and it left a hollowing ache in his gut. It suddenly felt like he would never see her again, like everything would be permanently changed for the worse the moment he walked through that door. His breathing became erratic as a nameless fear took hold of him, a desperation that he didn't recognize.
It's because you want her for your own, a voice whispered in his mind. She's not for you. She's your brother's. Not yours. Not for you, he scolded himself. But she was yours first, the wicked voice whispered back. She was interested in you first. She spent all her time with you and no one else. She was jealous when you slept with Aela. She wanted you. Maybe she still wants you. Maybe it's not too late. Maybe she can still be yours.
Faye watched as a dark and fervent expression slowly took hold of Vilkas' features. That look… it practically ignited every nerve in her body. Her grip tightened on the door handle when he slowly walked towards her, his aura leonine - all feral and predatory. Watching him move that way sent a trill down her spine in the most basic way - she was a prey animal recognizing a predator.
Vilkas stopped directly in front of her and Faye's heart was pounding so loud she was sure he could hear it. Vilkas slowly leaned in towards her and Faye's breath hitched as he brought his face inches from her own, his piercing eyes never leaving hers. Faye jumped when she felt his large warm hand on top of hers as he slowly pushed the door until it closed with a soft click.
Hard pangs of lust were shooting through Vilkas as he stood so close to her he could feel the heat of her body, smell the scent of her skin, hear her uneven breathing, and feel her hot breath on his face. His every sense was alive and filled with her, and he felt his groin surging with undeniable heat. He should go. He should leave before he did something stupid, something really stupid. Something he couldn't take back. But Vilkas was struggling with the beast inside of him that was howling and clawing at his insides with the want of her.
"Vilkas?" Faye's voice wavered with trepidation and uncertainty.
Vilkas slowly straightened to stand at his full height, towering over her small figure. His hand slowly fell away from hers, though it still tingled from the heat of his touch. Faye drew in sharp, jagged breaths as she stared up at his handsome face - his dark chiseled features, strong masculine jawline, full lips, and those silver eyes that were so severe and so striking against the black war paint that they shone like a full moon on a dark, cloudless night.
Vilkas turned his chin and slowly dragged his eyes away from hers to stare at the now closed door. "Do you really want me too?" His deep, velvety voice was slick with lust and slithered down her backbone like melted honey.
"W-What?"
"Leave." His smoldering eyes shifted to meet hers and bore into her, the heat in them so intense that she felt herself melting under his molten gaze. "Because I don't think you do. I think you want me to stay."
Her blood ran cold as the fear of being discovered crept down her spine like a cube of ice. "Why… why would I want that?"
His lips quirked into a wicked, knowing smirk. "Because you've wanted nothing but my attention since the moment you met me."
Faye's heart hammered away in her chest. "I… I wanted to know you."
His head tilted, silver eyes searching hers. "So why didn't you?"
She licked her suddenly dry lips. "Because you couldn't stand me."
Vilkas moved closer to her, a lock of ebony hair falling to overshadow his eyes. "Do you still want to know me, Faye?"
She gulped. "N-No."
His eyes tightened. "Don't lie to me. I've seen the way you look at me."
"I-I… I don't look… I…" Her voice cracked, betraying her, and it slowly faded out until there was nothing left but uneasy silence.
With a dark glint in his eyes, Vilkas snaked his arms around her small waist, bringing her closer to him until her soft curves were pressed firmly against his hard frame. The blood rushed to Faye's cheeks when Vilkas bent his head to leisurely run the tip of his nose along the full length of her neck, from her shoulder up to her ear. Faye shivered in spite of herself as his hot breath fanned against the sensitive skin of her throat. Vilkas breathed her in. She smelled of spring - green grass, rain, and wildflowers. It was… intoxicating. Once he reached her ear, his mouth hovered over it. "When I look at you… something inside of me moves," he confessed in a whisper, his voice smooth yet gritty, and dripping with desire. "Something in me wants you, Faye. Badly. Uncontrollably."
Vilkas pulled back slowly to look at her, his eyes on her like they had been placed in his skull solely for that purpose. Faye felt a trembling along her skin as he dragged his thumb roughly along her bottom lip, pushing her lips apart before tearing at them ravenously with his mouth. His kiss was hard and almost punishing, robbing the breath from her lungs and causing her body to burn with an engulfing heat that left her feeling as if she'd stepped into a firestorm.
"Gods, you taste good," Vilkas groaned softly against her lips before moving in for another taste of her. She tasted like wine and snowberries and something else entirely her. Needing more of her, Vilkas ran his tongue along the seam of her lips until she opened for him. He explored the contours of her mouth, running his tongue over hers in a gentle caress. A part of him thrilled when she pressed her body pliantly against his. Urged on by her response, his hands started roaming restlessly over her body, her curves warm and soft under his palms. Gods, he was already so hard and needful.
A disturbing warmth flared to life deep within her from the undeniable pleasure she was experiencing from the feel of his tongue and his calloused hands on her body. The warmth radiated throughout her until her knees felt on the verge of buckling. No one had ever kissed her like this before. Hell, she'd only been kissed once before, and it was nothing like this. But a tiny voice inside of her head was screaming for her to stop, to think, to remember Farkas. Through the fog of desire that had clouded her mind and gripped her body, Faye dazedly managed to bring her hands to his chest and shoved him away from her, letting out an exasperated cry and gasping for air. Vilkas groaned with a strained sound that almost echoed like pain as he stumbled back.
"What in Oblivion are you doing?!" Faye exclaimed, panting, still trying to catch her breath and gather her wits. His dark eyebrows drew up and together in confusion and Faye could hear his own breaths leaving him in the form of fierce jerks of his shoulders. "What's gotten into you? I'm getting married today! TO YOUR BROTHER!"
Vilkas didn't seem to hear her. His silver eyes dropped from her eyes to focus on her mouth, and before she could even blink, he launched himself at her, his mouth hot against hers. His arm created an inescapable snare around her waist as his lips stroked hers in a brutal caress.
Faye pressed her palms against his chest, trying to tear herself away, but the wave of emotion and want that crashed over her was so utterly overwhelming that she could do nothing but let it wash over her and consume her. Soon any good sense she had left was lost to the searing heat of his kiss and she slowly went limp in his arms, surrendering to him completely, allowing herself to drown in the sensations he was evoking in her.
As if waiting for her capitulation, Vilkas pulled her closer to him, his breath coming in a wild gasp as his fingers knotted in her golden locks, clutching her to him. Faye's mouth opened beneath his own, allowing his tongue access to its warm recesses, allowing him to invade her in a thorough and dominating pattern.
Faye closed her eyes, savoring the taste of him, the texture of his skin under her fingers, the faint rasp of stubble against her cheeks as Vilkas kissed her wildly, fiercely, uninhibitedly. With both of her palms pressed against his chest, she could feel how hard and toned he was - all firm muscle and dormant strength. It called to everything female in her. It made her body flush, and the place between her legs dampen and throb.
Vilkas broke the kiss. "You don't want him, Faye," he taunted against the shell of her ear, his voice low and flanging. "It's me you want. I can smell your arousal. You want me just as much as I want you."
At his words, Faye felt panic beginning to flood her body, washing away the traces of desire that had been building inside of her. "Stop…" she muttered, but his mouth continued to kiss and nip along her collarbone. "Vilkas… don't…" The Dragonborn's palms pressed firmly against the Companion's chest and shoved as hard as she could. "I SAID STOP!"
Faye turned from him and moved numbly to the vanity, the back of her hand pressed against her kiss-bitten lips. She placed her shaking hands on the vanity, her head hanging limply on her neck. She couldn't look in the mirror. She couldn't stand the sight of herself right now. He was her fiance's twin brother! How could she let this happen? This was a mistake. A horrible, terrible mistake. Her fingernails dug into the wood of the vanity. She loved Farkas. How could she kiss Vilkas on her wedding day? What kind of person was she? Maybe she really was the horrible person Vilkas had always said she was. Maybe she really was a monster.
Vilkas grabbed her suddenly from behind and yanked her against him, her back slamming into the solid and unyielding wall of his chest, one hand on her stomach holding her to him. Faye went rigid as a plank, her hands balled into fists at her sides, her breathing erratic. The embrace had more of a furious need to it than affection, his arms strung so tightly around her that she could hardly breath.
"Why are you marrying him?" Vilkas rasped, his words no more than a strained growl in her ear. His free hand fisted in her hair and tugged sharply to the side, exposing her neck to him. She gasped when his mouth latched onto her flesh, the hand on her stomach holding her still as he began kissing and nipping down the side of her neck. Faye's heart raced wildly in her chest as his mouth unerringly found the pulse at her throat, and licked it. Her eyelids fluttered shut when his other hand slid up her body to cup her breast. She let out a stuttering breath as he rolled her nipple expertly between his fingers. Her head fell to the side limply in response to the feel of his mouth on her neck and his hands on her body.
"Is it because he looks like me?" His voice was dark and grating, his hot breath falling heavily across her skin. Before she could respond, his hand tightened around a fistful of her hair and wrenched, twisting her neck to reconcile his hunger for her skin. "Is that why you bought him that wolf armor, the exact kind I wear, and made him wear it?"
Vilkas tore his mouth from her neck and spun her around. He surged up against her, ramming his hips into hers, effectively pinning her to the vanity with his body. He snatched her chin and lifted it sharply, forcing her to meet his hard gaze. "You like to pretend it's me when you're with him, don't you?"
Faye's knees felt weak, her breathing shallow, as she forced herself to hold his intense gaze. She spoke slowly, enunciating each syllable separately, "I'm getting married."
His eyes flashed and a low rumbling growl echoed in his chest. "To someone you wish was me!"
Her mouth opened and his hand caught her face, and he swallowed her breath in a coarse and biting kiss, forcing her lips apart with his tongue. He wanted to show her that he meant something to her. Wanted her to accept that she felt something for him. Wanted her to think of no one but him. Dammit, he wanted her to want him!
As his mouth devoured hers, his skillful tongue wreaking havoc on her senses, Faye felt a heat began to spread out from her chest in pulsing waves. She hated the way he affected her. Hated how much she wanted him, had always wanted him. Hated the way she couldn't resist him. Deep within her, something dark and disturbing, stirred to life. Instinctively, her mouth opened against his and she pushed herself mercilessly forward, her hands fisting in his dark locks. The involuntary reaction was shocking in its fervor, even in its existence. She felt more than heard him groan in response to her unexpected enthusiasm and immediately felt his teeth dig into her bottom lip as he pulled at her waist like he wanted to pull her clear inside of him. He was leading her into something dark and carnal, and she was following after him willingly.
His fingers dug painfully into the small of her back when she rubbed herself against him, needing to ease some of the ache between her legs. She felt the hard ridge of him, prodding and insistent against her belly, and a monsoon of panic was released within her. It was clear what Vilkas wanted from her. He wanted what she'd never given anyone in her entire life. Faye abruptly tore her mouth from his and uttered, "We can't…" Silver eyes lifted to meet hers, the confusion in them evident. "He'll know," she explained urgently. "He knows I've never… he knows I'm a… he'll know..." Her forehead fell against his and she breathed out, "We can't. We just… can't."
Breathing heavily, he pressed his forehead back against hers and looked deep into her jade eyes that were brimming with unshed tears and unbridled desire. "I've never felt anything like this, Faye. I've never wanted anybody as much as I want you." His deep, silky voice slid over her like liquid sin. "You swim in my blood now. I have to have you. Consequences be damned."
Faye pulled back to stare up at the Nord. So fiercely ardent was the look in his smoldering silver eyes that she flinched under their unrelenting intensity. She knew this was wrong, but the passion had been fanned and denied for so long that she found she could no longer control her longing for him.
Vilkas watched the war of emotions in her leafy green eyes and waited as patiently as he could for her answer. After a few moments of silence, the conflict in her eyes faded and was instantly replaced with a severe determination. Slowly, her small hand rose between them and brushed a stray lock of his hair from his eyes, and the next words she spoke were the end of whatever sanity he still had left. "You're right. You're right about everything," she whispered, her voice soft like summer rain, her green eyes shimmering into his. "I've always wanted you, Vilkas." Her voice caught on his name. "Gods forgive me, I want you to make me yours."
Hearing the words he so desperately wanted to hear, Vilkas moved like a viper, quick and unpredictable. He hauled her up to his level, his mouth on hers, hard and demanding, his hands carefully cradling her face between them. His kiss bled the confusion and guilt from her very soul. Faye's hands curled into his tunic, pulling him closer, mashing her breasts into his chest as she returned his kiss ardently like a lost soul desperate for redemption. She gave everything she had, everything she was, into the kiss as tears threatened to spill from her eyes.
Vilkas tore away from the kiss, drawing back to breath, a rare and genuine smile on his face. "Good."
Faye opened her mouth to reply, but he caught her jaw and pulled her back in, his mouth hot against hers, tearing the breath from her lungs. Her body wilted weakly into his fervent kiss, her hands going to his shoulders to help steady herself. The muscles of his shoulders were hard as iron under her palms. A small groan escaped him between the first and second meeting of their mouths that sent heat and yearning rushing through her veins.
They were both lost then, driven mindless with lust. The rest of the world suddenly didn't exist. Nothing else mattered but this moment, but them. There was no turning back now. And they both knew it, as surely as they knew that it would change everything.
"Just once," Faye breathed against his lips, two tears spilling from her eyes. "Just once."
At her words, Vilkas kissed her harder, his hands roaming her body with a near animalistic kind of urgency as he tried to sketch every detail of her into his memory. He only had this one time with her. He would never allow himself to forget it. His hands roughly squeezed the backs of her thighs and lifted her up, dropping her unceremoniously on the vanity. He moved forward, shoving her legs apart, pressing his hips firmly against hers.
"Just once," she uttered again as Vilkas pressed a tender kiss to her temple, her eyelids, her chin, every inch of skin he could reach. Her arms went around his neck and she breathed in his ear, "Just this once."
His large hands moved swiftly down her body, his fingers pushing her dress up to bunch around her waist. Faye gasped when his fingers slipped under the hem of her panties and tore them away from her flesh so he could get to what he wanted. Vilkas groaned with desperate need when he cupped her sex, feeling how unbelievably hot and wet she already was for him. He stroked her gently, dragging a slight tremor and a low throaty moan out of her, the sound traveling right to his throbbing groin. Vilkas growled and tore at the laces of his pants, freeing his aching erection.
Faye's eyes fell to his length and her eyes widened with anxiety and uncertainty. He was big… too big. Faye immediately became uneasy and distressed about this whole thing. Perhaps Nords weren't supposed to become intimate with Bretons. Maybe they weren't… compatible. But her troubled thoughts flew out of her mind when Vilkas leaned down to capture her mouth. Her lips parted beneath his and he slid his tongue inside to stroke over her own, pulling a sensual mewl from her.
Vilkas' strong hands roughly gripped her hips and drew her sharply to the edge of the vanity. Faye's hands knotted in his thick ebony locks as he nipped at her mouth, catching her bottom lip between his teeth before releasing it slowly. Faye moaned against his lips, as he guided himself to her wet entrance. Unable to wait another second, Vilkas thrust himself deep into her, tearing her maidenhood and claiming her irrevocably as his own.
Vilkas shuddered hard, a guttural growl rolling up from the depths of his being and spilling from him unchecked at the feeling of her. She was so hot and wet and unbelievably tight around him, gripping him like a vice. No other woman had ever felt like this. He shuddered again, uncontrollably. No other woman had ever made him feel this way.
Faye released a silent scream at the sudden intrusion of her body. Her nails dug into his arms, breaking the skin, as the breath tore violently from her chest. She found herself forgetting how to breathe as pain and searing heat raced along every nerve ending in her body. He was stretching parts of her she didn't know could be stretched. She felt as though she were being torn in half from the inside out. This pain… it went so much deeper than just mere skin. It was in the very marrow of her being. As she clung to him, she forced herself to relax and breath deeply, making herself adjust to him.
Vilkas paused above her. "Are you ok?" He whispered, his breath coming out in ragged pants against her cheek. Faye nodded, grateful that he was willing to take this slow. "Tell me if you want me to stop." Faye nodded, and her body slowly started to relax around him. Though his body shook slightly from the effort, Vilkas forced himself to remain still within her, and watched her face as it slowly lost the tension it was holding. Needing desperately to move, but forcing himself to be gentle, Vilkas slowly pulled back until just his swollen aching tip remained inside of her before he plunged back into her until his tip pulsed against her womb. Faye's head fell back with a strangled moan as she struggled against the wave of pleasurable sensations and pain that were rippling through her.
Vilkas' breathing became labored. She was clenching around him so wonderfully that another shudder overcame him. His fingers dug painfully into her hips as he groaned into her neck, "What are you doing to me, woman?"
Faye's response turned into a choked moan when Vilkas pulled his hips back again just to surge forward and impale her completely, burying himself deep inside her. He started a slow but steady rhythm and the pain started to fade, leaving in its wake pleasure beyond Faye's capacity to endure. She could never have imagined that anyone could inspire such intensity of sensation within her body. She arched into him, clenching her teeth because he felt so wonderfully good, so utterly fantastic, she almost wept.
"Please… don't stop…" Faye begged pitifully, afraid that if he did she'd die. "…don't ever stop..." She wrapped her arms around his neck and crossed her ankles at the small of his back in order to bring him closer to her, needing to feel every inch of his skin against hers.
His fingers wound in her hair, jerking her head down to meet his scorching gaze while he thrust deeper into her. "Never," Vilkas rumbled in a throaty voice, his silver eyes severe and piercing. "I want to live inside of you now."
His hand untangled from her hair, slid down the side of her neck, fingers dragging between her breasts before pushing her dress aside. His head dipped to her chest and Faye whimpered softly as he nibbled her breast lightly, catching the nipple between his teeth and flicking it with his tongue. He moved to the other side and repeated the action, coaxing her nipples to hard peaks. When his tongue ran down to explore the valley between her breasts, Faye heard herself moan his name.
"Again," Vilkas growled into her chest, nipping the top of her breast. "Say my name again." His voice was hoarse as he pleaded, and she suddenly felt powerful. Feeling brave, Faye brought her lips to his ear and softly whispered his name, her voice choked with passion.
Vilkas growled harshly as he felt the last of his control snap and fall away. "Again," he demanded strictly, his fingers digging into her rear as he started to move inside of her with punishing abandon.
Faye obeyed his command and called out his name as she withered beneath him, her bliss sharp-edged and raw as he began to push into her with long, hard strokes. Faye could do nothing else but hold onto him as mind-boggling ecstasy burst from the deepest part of her, and she had to sink her teeth into his shoulder to stifle her needy moans. Vilkas responded with a groan that broke off into a growl, his hips snapping harshly against hers as he drove himself deeper and faster into her with a pace that was near brutal against her body.
His calloused hand ran down the side of her thigh to hook behind her knee. In one deft motion, he lifted her knee up to his hip and thrust into her savagely. Faye cried out as he took her deeper, a traveling current of fire moving up her spine, down her arms, pulsing out from her fingertips. It felt as if a raging inferno was coursing through her veins, burning everything in its path. Judging by his ragged breathing, his slightly glazed eyes, and the flush that crept over his skin, she was fairly certain he was experiencing the same torrent of blazing heat that she was.
One particularly sharp thrust hit a spot deep inside of her that made her thighs quiver and her toes curl. "That's it," Vilkas rasped in her ear as she keened loudly. "Come for me, Dragonborn. I want to hear you cry my name when you come."
Faye's fingers curled into his hair as she felt herself nearing the edge. She was panting heavily in his ear, her throat unbearably dry and tight, her vision blurring with tears, her body as tremulous as an earthquake. Sensing her release, Vilkas clamped his hand over her mouth. Faye's back snapped taut, her inner walls clenching and quivering as she fell over the edge, his name falling from her lips, the sound muffled against his palm.
Vilkas came right after her, hard and violent, a ragged howl tearing its way from his throat as he spent himself inside her. His hand fell from her mouth and from the crook of her knee to grasp something solid before his knees gave out. His palms smacked against the surface of the vanity beside her hips, his shaking arms holding himself up so he didn't collapse on top of her.
Faye's body continued to shake violently as she came down from her high. Her fingers slowly unclenched in his hair as she melted against him like an icicle left out in the sun. She felt so liquid. She couldn't pull a thought from the puddle that moments earlier had been her brain.
The room seemed unnaturally quiet now, the air heavy and saturated with the smell of their sex. Dazed, Vilkas' arms came up to wrap themselves around the trembling woman while he remained intimately connected with her. His head fell forward, his cheek resting on her chest. His head rose and fell with her breathing as he listened to her racing heart. Faye closed her eyes and her fingers began gently running through his sweaty black tresses, her hips cradling his.
Neither wished to think of what was to come next.
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Aela stood outside the bridal suite, her ear pressed firmly to the door and her expression twisted into one of bitter jealousy. The huntress slowly pulled back from the door staring at it as if she wanted to burn it to the ground. She turned on her heel and headed swiftly to the other side of the temple. She found the door she wanted and opened it.
"What the hell, Aela? Don't you know how to knock? I'm getting dressed here," Farkas barked at the Nord woman as he pulled on his dark grey tunic with silver embroidery.
A malicious smirk formed on her lips. "Come with me, Farkas. There is something you must see."
"Now? But I'm busy," he whined.
"Now," Aela replied firmly, leaving no room for debate.
"Alright," he grumbled as he followed after her. "So, what do you gotta show me?"
Her eyes glinted darkly. "Something you'll find most intriguing."
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As Vilkas listened to Faye's pulse gradually slow to a steady rhythm, he realized that he'd never felt so blissful. For the first time in his life, he felt utterly at peace. Everything just felt… right. As if he was exactly where he was meant to be. He wanted to stay just like this for eternity. He never wanted to let her go. Never wanted her for anything but his own. But he knew she didn't feel the same. She loved his brother. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with Farkas. She didn't want him.
"Do you regret it?" Vilkas whispered his tone cautious and uncertain.
After a few moments of silence, Faye replied, "Do you?" Her tone was even, giving nothing away.
Vilkas lifted his head and caught her eyes. "Faye… I-"
The door suddenly slammed open causing Vilkas and Faye to jump. Faye felt her heart drop to her knees when she saw Farkas standing in the open doorway. She watched in horror as his head turned to meet her eyes, and his expression was so raw and wounded that her heart wanted to break at the sight of it. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, blistering with all the shame that was burning inside her heart.
"Farkas… I..." Faye uttered brokenly, at a loss for words, holding back the sobs that wanted to pour out of her. "I'm... I'm so sorry."
Vilkas' heart twisted inside him at the shattered look on Faye's face, as well as his brother's. He did this, he did this to them both, all because he was selfish and couldn't control himself.
With a heartwrenching expression, Farkas turned and rushed away from them.
"Farkas… WAIT!" Faye shrieked as she pushed Vilkas off of her and stumbled after him, her inner thighs slick with her maiden blood and the other evidence of their coupling.
"Faye!" Vilkas shouted as he frantically tried to grab for her, desperate to keep her with him, but she avoided his hands and was running after his brother. "Fuck," he cursed as he hastily stuffed himself into his pants, tied his laces, and chased after her.