A/N: All characters are property of Bethesda.
The job to clear Halted Stream Camp had gone well, which wasn't surprising. It seemed like new poachers moved in there every month or so, hunting nearby mammoths and mining the iron ore veins nearby. Most of the Companions now knew the camp like the backs of their own hands, which made it an easy job.
It was perfect for Vilkas's purposes. Since Farkas had landed his new girlfriend Grace, the twins barely spent any time together. The job provided a chance for some brotherly bonding, as would a visit to the Drunken Huntsman tavern afterward.
The two were just leaving the encampment, comparing the number of poachers each had killed, when Farkas froze in his tracks. Vilkas followed his brother's panicked stare to three frostbite spiders coming over the hill.
"Don't worry, brother," Vilkas stated. "I'll handle this." He pulled his sword and advanced on the spiders, not bothering to look back. His brother was terrified of the "big crawly ones," so he'd be no help here.
Suddenly something hot and bright flew past Vilkas's head, grazing his hair. He threw himself on the ground, barely avoiding the barrage of fireballs that followed. He stayed down until the explosions had subsided, then looked up to see the incinerated remains of the spiders laying on the scorched earth in front of them.
Then he heard his brother's voice. "Huh. It worked."
Gritting his teeth, Vilkas slowly turned to look over his shoulder. Farkas was standing behind him, inspecting some kind of staff with a dragon's head carved into the top. Vilkas rolled back to his side, preparing to get up.
"Where in Oblivion did you get that thing?" he growled.
"Grace gave it to me. In case I had to deal with spiders." Farkas grinned. "She said I wouldn't have to get close to them. I could just blast them from a distance."
"And me as well, apparently," Vilkas grumbled. He stood and brushed himself off. "Did she even train you how to use that?"
"She said training wasn't needed. All you do is point and shoot." Farkas gestured with the staff, and a fireball flew out of the carved dragon's mouth, igniting a nearby tree. "Oops."
Vilkas closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. When they got back to town, he was going to find Grace and have some words with her. Loud words. Words usually reserved for his most painful injuries. "And why," he asked, "would she give you a weapon like that and not at least teach you how to aim it?"
"I can aim..." Farkas took in Vilkas's disbelieving look. "I can. I just... don't like to look at them. As long as I hit nearby, it should still get what I'm aiming for."
"So you basically shoot enough fireballs and hope you hit the target. Wonderful." Vilkas held his hand out. "Give it to me."
Farkas pulled the staff closer. "You don't know how to use it. Besides, I think it's out of charges..." He turned the staff to look into the dragon's mouth.
"Don't aim it at your face!" Vilkas yelled, swatting at the staff. Farkas yelped in surprise as the staff issued another fireball over his shoulder and into the camp's protective wall. "You don't know what you're doing. Give it here!"
"No!" Farkas dodged as Vilkas made a grab for the staff. "Grace said anger sets it off!"
"I'LL SHOW YOU ANGER!" Vilkas roared. "GIVE IT!" He managed to get his hands on the staff.
The resulting explosion knocked both men back. They landed face down on the ground, covering their heads as the thing went ballistic, firing in all directions. After what seemed like an eternity, the thundering maelstrom ceased and the staff fell to the ground. The twins slowly got up, somewhat singed and with ringing ears, and carefully approached it.
Farkas nudged it with a foot. "I think it's dead," he observed.
At that point, Vilkas decided he'd had enough. "Stand back," he instructed his brother as he grabbed the staff and aimed it at a nearby rocky hill. The staff let off another eruption of fireballs, and Vilkas turned his head away and closed his eyes against the searing heat. Once it had gone quiet once more, he opened one eye and looked warily at the staff, making sure it was done.
He heard his brother's voice behind him again. "Hey! You got a rabbit!"
Vilkas immediately straightened up and threw the hated staff into the nearby pit trap. Farkas was never getting one of these things ever again if he could help it. There was not enough mead in all of Whiterun to deal with this.
"Farkas, we're going home... will you put the damned rabbit down?!"
"What? It's already cooked..."