Wow I'm so bad. I forgot to mention the very obvious disclaimer in the beginning of chapter one. Skyrim, Vilkas, Farkas, and all of the colorful characters you are reading about today don't belong to me, they're property of Bethesda. Well, except for the character of Viola. You know how it is. c: Now on with the ball!

Earlier that day...

"Please just listen to me, Lady Viola," the Jarl pleaded. The Breton, in turn, turned her chin up in defiance. She trusted Jarl Balgruuf like she trusted her own father, and she felt completely betrayed by him. Had she not been well-versed in proper etiquette by the servants of her birth parents throughout her formative years, she would have already walked away. Instead, she resigned herself to the still-impolite but more dignified tantrum she currently displayed.

The Jarl sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the beginning of a tension headache already. Waiting for Viola to respond was pointless, he realized, as he continued without her approval. "You are loyal to the Empire, are you not?"

Her blue eyes darted to meet his reflexively. She opened her mouth to interrupt, but held her tongue. "The Emperor grows impatient with my display of neutrality... he has been pressuring me to finally express where my loyalties lie. However, as you may know, Whiterun cannot afford to lose any of its warriors to the civil war... I would like to avoid these matters, and prove my allegiance in other ways. You are Dragonborn, a person of great importance. And you have chosen to live in Whiterun after your travels. You are also known for supporting the Empire."

Jarl Balgruuf noticed a slight change in her disposition, and softened, realizing that he was slowly willing her down. Viola's posture loosened as the realization began to set in. "But why Lord Hadvar?" she asked finally. "Surely my loyalty to the Empire should be enough?"

"It was enough for a time, but our growing reputation has brought a need for something more. As you know, Whiterun's two founding clans are feuding right now, having picked opposing sides on the civil war. We are divided. We need to prove ourselves to the Empire in order to live prosperously. The wedding between a decorated Legionnaire and a Legion-supporting local celebrity would provide us with quite the reputation."

"The Gray-Manes would never stand for it."

"The Gray-Manes will have no say in the matter, and will be forced to deal with it."

Just like me, Viola sighed. She was in a difficult position. She was young and still very carefree. She believed in adventure and true love, and living every day like it were her last. Instead she was to be trapped in a loveless marriage, likely unable to leave the city walls again, and be resigned to a life of cooking, cleaning, and raising children. While settling down was something she always wanted for herself, she had always imagined it would be later down the line, with somebody she was in love with.

On the other hand, Viola owed a debt of gratitude to Jarl Balgruuf and the city of Whiterun. They took her in as one of their own, even before she was revealed to be Dragonborn. Every other hold in Skyrim only tried to court her into living with them after the fact. But these people saw the real Viola, the scrawny blonde traveler from Daggerfall who spoke like a noble. Who couldn't lift a real sword with her boney arms, but had possessed magical prowess that could rival old masters of the arcane. They knew the Viola who smiled very easily and loved to play with the village children; the Viola who never turned down a plea for help. And in the end, they saved Viola from making choices she would have come to regret. They were her new family, and if they were plunged into the war because of her refusal to be betrothed, she would never be able to forgive herself.

"My Lord," there was an interruption, and Irileth appeared with a slightly confused Hadvar following behind her. "I have brought Lord Hadvar, as requested."

"Ahh," the Jarl smiled. "Welcome, Sir Hadvar. Please, have a seat. I was just going over with Viola what I wished to speak with you about."

It was late afternoon by the time news of the party hit the market streets. Young women gushed eagerly to each other about what they would wear, and young men boasted about who they would be taking home that night from the party. No one had known many details of the festivities, other than where it was going to be held, and that everyone in the city was invited, even travelers and children. They didn't even know the purpose for the ball.

Among the crowd walked Farkas, his brother, and a couple of their shield-sisters and brothers. "Did you hear, Brother?" Farkas gleamed with excitement. "A party. We must go."

Vilkas scoffed at his brother. "Why," he questioned, his tone uninterested, "so we can mingle with Whiterun's pompous elite? Trade stories about the expensive art we have purchased or the high-quality mead we have collected? I'll pass."

"But everybody is invited, Brother. That means that Addrienne will be there."

Vilkas shot his brother a warning glare. He was shocked that his brother had the gall to dangle her in front of him like she was a piece of meat. Like he would do anything just for some woman. Addrienne was only a fleeting interest and a lost cause.

Still, it changed Vilkas's mind. "Alright, alright," he attempted to sound nonchalant, "We will go. But it won't be fun." Maybe I'll bring my sword with me, in case any of those milk-drinkers try to start something..

"Excuse me, sir, but I'm going to have to ask you to hand over your weapon."

Vilkas glared incredulously at the old steward who stood his post at the front end of the bridge. Other partygoers in lavish attire passed by them and into the palace.

"I told you you couldn't bring it along," Farkas muttered.

With an annoyed grunt, the Nord finally relinquished his weapon. "Don't take it out of its hilt." He spat, foisting the weapon at the elderly man.

The sun had just set when the brothers made it into the palace. Vilkas tugged at the collar of his tunic uncomfortably as he looked around. While the quality of Fralia's needlework was beautiful, he still felt under-dressed compared to everybody else. He had washed the war paint off of his face and donned a black and dark red tunic with a black tailcoat. His brother's was black and blue.

Quickly, Farkas scanned the room. Finding something, he tugged on his brother's sleeve. "There they are," he said cheerfully, dragging his brother over to where Aela and the other companions were.

"Well well," Aela whistled, looking the twins, mainly Farkas, up and down. "You sure clean up nicely." The Nord woman smiled easily, intoxicated by the atmosphere of the room. She had chosen to wear a blue silk dress that showed off her arms. Her warpaint had also been washed off and replaced with another type of paint: makeup; and her usually disheveled red hair had been tied neatly into a bun that hung low on the front-right side of her head.

Farkas quickly held out his arm for the woman, as she wrapped hers in it, and the two of them were off. Kodlak turned to the older twin.

"Even your brother has a date. Where is yours, Vilkas?"

"Hmph," the Nord crossed his arms defiantly. "I did not even wish to come here. All these people care about is their wealth. It's disgusting."

"True," the older Nord mused, "but at least the mead is free. Try to have fun."

And with that, Kodlak turned and walked into the crowd, leaving Vilkas to stand by himself.

The sounds of music and laughter could be heard downstairs as the woman nervously fumbled with her dress.

Viola had been sitting alone in one of the Jarl's guest rooms for over twenty minutes as her stomach twisted uncomfortably. She didn't feel like going down and greeting everybody, pretending to be ridiculously happy. She felt like going for a hike.

This lavish ball was her engagement party, after all. Though the purpose for the party had been kept a secret. She had convinced the Jarl and Hadvar that in her culture, spreading news of an engagement before the week of the wedding was bad luck. Somehow, they believed it. Unfortunately, Hadvar was still insistent on a celebration, even if the meaning was kept secret.

Even if the party's purpose was a secret, she couldn't go unnoticed. As soon as she entered the room, she would be recognized as the guest of honor. It was the same for any ball she attended. It was tiresome.

There was a knock on her door, pulling Viola from her thoughts. "Please, come in," she muttered, unsure.

Hadvar entered her chamber, dressed in what looked like a ridiculously expensive red and gold tunic. As soon as he laid eyes on her, his eyes had widened. "My Lady..." he breathed. "...Forgive me. You are stunning."

A blush crept up on Viola's cheeks. Her long blonde tresses had been pulled into a high bun-some curls escaping to frame her face, and her bangs swept sideways across her forehead. blue eyes and soft facial features were accentuated with the right touch of makeup, and she wore an elegant white gown with a bare back and matching white gloves. On the outside, she was the picture of grace. On the inside, she was wildly uncomfortable, despite being used to such formal occasions.

"Thank you," she attempted to sound graceful, but it came out more like a squeak. "You look very nice as well, Sir Hadvar."

"Shall we?" he gestured, holding out a hand.

"Ah... but won't we give ourselves away? It would be bad luck if news of our engagement got out."

"Tonight, I am an official Legionary representative escorting the Dragonborn to the party."

Viola's smile faltered slightly, as she gave him her hand.

By 7 O'Clock, the party was in full-swing. Vilkas had retired to one of the tables, nursing a bottle of very expensive whiskey, when all of a sudden, the music stopped and the voices dropped down to hushed whispers.

"Ladies and gentlemen," announced a young man in a palace uniform, "please bow and welcome your host and ruler, Jarl Balgruuf the Greater."

There was a round of soft applause as the Jarl descended from the staircase, clad in a gold and white tunic fit for a man in his position. "Welcome, my honored guests," the powerful man beamed, looking over the crowd. "I am very pleased that so many of you could join us here tonight. Please feel free to eat and drink what you would like, and stay as long as you would like ... within reason, of course."

The crowd chuckled at his comment, and he went on. "Think of this as a celebration of life. The dragon crisis is over!" The crowd erupted into loud cheers, but were silence after a short while by the Jarl, who merely raised a hand to them.

"We have this person to thank for that. She came to us as not much but a wee traveler from Daggerfall, scrawny and meek. But she rose to her destiny as the Dragonborn of legend, and has saved us all! Please welcome Lady Viola."

Slowly, a figure in a white dress began to walk down the stairs gracefully, led by a man who was obviously military of some kind. A bodyguard, perhaps? The woman did not look the fighting type. Vilkas couldn't see her well from where he sat, but had Jarl Balgruuf not introduced her, there was no way he could believe that she was supposed to be the hero of legend.

The cheers continued as the girl smiled and waved at the crowd, while the man in the red and gold tunic stood at attention beside her. Finally after a few minutes of applause and cheers, the Jarl dismissed the crowd to carry on with the festivities.

Vilkas continued with his drink.

An hour later, and Vilkas was still at the same table. Meanwhile, the party had not died down one bit. Everyone was dancing and having a great time. Vilkas spotted Adrienne with her husband, and Farkas and Aela, all dancing. Even Eorland and his wife were enjoying themselves, all while the stubborn warrior scowled at his goblet.

The noise of a chair being dragged out caught his attention. "Excuse me," said a voice, "but I hope you aren't hogging all of the mead to yourself."

Vilkas turned to look at the source of his new companion, and his eyes widened. The dragonborn had chosen to sit next to him. Up close, Vilkas could see the woman much better. And upon closer inspection, Vilkas decided that the woman before him was incredibly beautiful.

His gaze hardened as he pushed the thought from his mind. Beauty or not, this woman was surely a spoiled debutante. She seemed to carry herself a certain way. A girl like her clearly came from money.

"Serve yourself," Vilkas said dismissively, turning his attention back to his drink. But the woman stared at him. Is she judging me? Vilkas cast a harsh glare at the girl, causing her to blush from embarrassment.

"Sorry, I did not mean to stare," she mumbled apologetically. "It's just, ahh... you..you are a Companion, correct?"

Interesting. The nobles usually paid no mind to know the Companions of Jorrvaskr, with the exception of Kodlak, Vignar, and on occasion, Skjor. "Aye, I am," he admitted. "What of it?"

Immediately, the Breton's blue eyes lit up with excitement. "You must be a really talented swordsman, then. Tell me, what's it like? I've never been good with a sword... can't even lift one, to be honest. Is it scary, fighting beasts up close? Is your sword enchanted? How many beasts have you slain?"

Vilkas was caught off guard as the younger woman fired off question after question rapidly. He stammered as he tried to answer them all, in shock with her unusual interest. "I am considered a master of two-handed swords. It is... exhilarating. The thrill of a close fight can not be beat. I do not enchant my weapon... I have slain at least almost one of every beast in Skyrim."

The Breton giggled, pleased with his response. "It is an honor to meet a man such as yourself. My name is Viola."

"I know that," Vilkas interjected a little too harshly, slightly embarrassed by her praise. "I am Vilkas."

"Vilkas," she repeated, grinning from ear to ear. "That is an odd name. But I guess, to a Nord, that is normal. I bet my name sounds odd to you!"

This girl was very different from other nobles, he realized. She had this naive charm to her, with an unfiltered curiosity. She was somewhat easier to be around, in one sense. In another sense...very difficult. He was confused by her.

"How did a scrawny little thing," he insulted, "who can't even wield a sword, manage to stop the World-Eater?"

"Oh, I trained vigorously at the College."

"The...college?"

"Mm. The College of Winterhold. I'm a mage." Viola took a swig of her mead, casting her eyes to the ground somewhat sadly. "...The arch-mage, now, I guess."

A mage. That made sense. There was no way her body had enough muscle to wield a sword or bow, so magic was the obvious choice. Like most Nords, the idea of magic made Vilkas uncomfortable, but this girl looked like she couldn't even harm a fly.

"So what are you doing here all by yourself?" The Breton looked at him from the corner of her eyes. "I have seen you sitting at this table for quite some time now."

"I don't do well at parties..." Vilkas admitted slowly. "I think these sorts of parties are just ways for the nobles to showcase their wealth and boast endlessly about trivial things that don't matter."

"Whew," the Breton sighed with relief, giving Vilkas a cheeky grin. "I'm not the only one, then. That is a relief."

Vilkas looked at her incredulously. "What?"

"I hate these parties. I always have. Some of these people are so stuffy! And then the rest of them pretend they're something they're not in order to impress the stuffy ones. It's exhausting."

It was clear Viola was beginning to relax around him, as her dialogue changed to something far less formal. It was a pleasant surprise. Perhaps not all rich people were so superficial.

Suddenly, Viola's eyes darted nervously towards something. Vilkas tried to look where she was looking when her eyes fixed back on his. "Hey..." she said suddenly, touching his forearm. "Do you want to dance with me? I think I'm supposed to dance."

Vilkas did not wish to dance, but he was interested in continuing his conversation with her. Slowly, the Nord stood up, as did the Viola. With a smirk, he realized that he towered over her significantly; Bretons were not known for being tall. Taking her arm on his own, he led the girl to the dance floor.

Farkas beamed as he noticed his brother standing up, his eyes widening in surprise when he saw his brother leading the Dragonborn to the dance floor.

Vilkas met his brother's gaze briefly before turning his attention back to his escort. Viola looked somewhat distracted. Shaking her head, she smiled up at him, placing one of her hands on one of his broad shoulders, and the other hand in his own outstretched one. Vilkas in turn wrapped his idle hand around the small of her back, only then realizing he could feel the smooth skin of her back, heightening his senses. The girl smelled incredible, he realized. He had to shake himself out of it, his wolf senses having nearly got the best of him. "So where are you from?" He attempted to re-establish the conversation.

"Daggerfall. My father is a very wealthy entrepreneur, and my mother is a wildly talented apothecary."

It made sense that she had an air of nobility about her-her parents sounded like very powerful people.

"Why come to Skyrim, then?" He didn't understand.

"I didn't want to follow the plan my parents made for me. Marry the head of a company my father is partnered with, become one of those women who is waited on all of the time."

"Do you still keep in touch with your parents?"

"Of course, I write them often. Though now my father tries to claim that it was his intention all along that I come to Skyrim."

Vilkas snorted. They sounded like lovely people.

"What about you?" Viola's question caught him off-guard. "Do you still talk to your parents?"

"Ahh..." discomfort was clear on the man's features. "They died when my brother and I were pups. The Harbinger of the companions, Kodlak, took us in."

"O-oh... I'm sorry," Viola bit her bottom lip nervously. "...But! It seems like you have a very loving family now."

"Yes... I do." Vilkas realized she was right. The companions had become a true family to him and his brother. Vilkas had no idea what he would do without them. If it weren't for them, he wouldn't be standing before her today.

"So... got a girlfriend back at Jorrvaskr?" The girl teased him, but she looked genuinely interested for some reason.

"Not at all," the man said a bit too eager for his tastes. For some reason, he cared about what this girl thought about him, and didn't want to give her the wrong idea. "What about you? Any knight in shining armor?"

Viola's smile faded quickly for a split second. "Ah, N-no," she said weakly, and then more confidently, added, "There is no man that I am in love with."

Vilkas was oddly pleased to hear this. His onyx eyes met her blue ones, and they kept eye contact for a long time.

Vilkas was surprised with himself. He had a different feeling when he gazed into the eyes of this girl. She had been a stranger to him an hour ago, but now. Now he could hardly quelm the excitement that boiled within him when he caught sight of her. He was very attracted to her.

And judging by the way she was looking at him, the feeling was mutual.

Suddenly, Vilkas lost himself for a moment, forgetting his place. He moved his hand, dropping hers, and placing it with his other hand on her back.

Viola slowly lifted her hands, wrapping them around the back of his strong neck.

He leaned in.

So did she.

Slowly, he closed his eyes.

And then suddenly, the moment was gone. "E-excuse me!" Viola squeaked, breaking free from his grasp. "I-I am suddenly unwell. I should head home, now... It was nice spending the evening with you. I hope to see you again soon!"

With that, she was gone. She fled so quickly, leaving Vilkas dumbfounded, standing alone on the crowded dance floor.

Regaining his composure, his gaze shifted toward the exit she had left through.

I have to go after her.

Thank you for reading! I hope this chapter wasn't too long. And I hope I did Vilkas's character some justice. I tried to keep him hardened and stubborn, with just a touch of loneliness to push him to be bolder. If it wasn't supposed to be a Romeo and Juliet AU, their growth of feelings would be much, much slower. I mean, that whole play takes place in the span of a few weeks or something! That's pretty fast!

Anyway, I hope you liked it, whoever is reading, out there. c: