This is for mia78 and everyone else still holding on. I will finish this piece, even if it takes me another five years, I promise!
Vilkas' limbs are on fire. His leg hurts. He tries to stand, but fails in his attempt. On all four, he pushes himself towards his fallen Companion.
The old hag loosens another bolt of energy.
Powerless, Vilkas has to watch as Falka looses consciousness.
Emotions burst open, explode. He screams. Energy soars through his body. Sheer willpower pushes him back onto his feet, forces his limbs to carry his weight.
The space between him and Falka and the witch isn't too far. He pulls the dagger he always carries, gripping it tightly.
The witch turns towards him, readies another spell. Blue energy crackles between her hands. He stumbles towards her.
The spell hits.
Another scream. Feral, without words.
He keeps on his feet.
The old crone is within arm's reach. She raises her hands, protects her grotesque face.
Vilkas grabs her head, yanks it backwards.
Her throat lies bare.
One slash; vicious.
Then – blood.
The Hagraven died, and with it the noise inside the cavern. Vilkas blinked and shook his head, trying to throw off the after-effects of his rampage. His throat burnt. His ears rang. And his fingers were cramped around something greasy and— Disgustedly, he let go of the head he still held in a firm grip. With a dull thump, the body hit the floor. Exhausted, Vilkas sank to his knees.
"Red," he whispered, closing the remaining distance between him and the unconscious woman. "Red." He wrapped his arms around the limp body and pulled it close. "My shieldmaiden." This close, he could hear her heart beat, and in this moment, it was one of the sweetest sounds he had ever heard. He buried his face in her head, drinking deeply from her smell.
The woman in his arms stirred. She groaned, weakly.
"Hey." Falka shot him a weak smile.
"Hey." Vilkas hugged her even closer. Now that she was conscious, she reciprocated his actions, fidgeting until she could bury her face in the crook of his neck. Vilkas relished the moment, the feeling of her breath against his throat, the touch of her skin against his jaw.
"We found him, aye?"
"Aye, we did," Vilkas agreed. "We found him. And we are still alive."
And then he was laughing and kissing Falka, and Falka was smiling, too, and clinging to him and kissing him back.
Aela shifted back to her human form. She had found them, and none too soon. Whatever Falka and Vilkas had achieved outside the temple, three Hagravens had almost been too much for them. Luckily, she had been just in time. Aela spared one quick glance at the couple. Yes, they would be fine now.
Her gaze returned to the prone form on the stone altar. Farkas. He was stark naked, and wild tattoos covered his entire body. The Hagravens' gruesome work – whatever they had hoped to achieve by it. His face, too, was adorned with swirling lines of colour. And ever so gently, almost unnoticeable, his chest slowly rose and fell. He was breathing.
Aela sighed in relief. "Thank the divines, you're alive."
A terrible smell wafted off his body. Aela wrinkled her nose. It was strange, not what she had come to recognize as her shield-sibling's own over all the years. This stank of dark, dried, heavy metals and tang. She furrowed her brow in confusion.
Aela lifted her head in time to see Falka and Vilkas struggle to stand. The sight made Aela's frown deepen. They both looked terrible, clinging to each another for support. Falka was reeling heavily, weakened and exhausted from the torture she had been through. Her old armour was gone, and all she wore were some rags under pieces of Forsworn gear. Vilkas still wore his own armour, but he was limping heavily. His leg, Aela noticed, must have been heavily injured by the looks of it.
"Farkas?" Vilkas asked even before they reached her.
"He's alive," Aela answered. "Barely, but he's alive." She nodded at the pair of them. "How about you two?"
Letting go of Falka's support, Vilkas slumped against the stone altar. "Alive. You came none too soon, shield-sister."
She nodded. "Is the rest of the cave secured?"
"No," Falka shook her head. She was leaning heavily against the stone altar for support next to Vilkas, looking even worse than him.
"Then I'll be back soon," the Huntress replied, already morphing back into her wolven form.
Vilkas pulled off his gauntlets and gently pressed his palm against his brother's head. "Hey, Farkas. What have you been up to?"
Moments passed, but his twin did not stir. "It's been over week since you left, icebrains. Thought you were busy, and now we find you here, napping."
Still no response.
"Red and I went to Solitude, only to find out you never got there. You had us worried, there. It's not like you to disappear entirely."
Falka placed one hand on Vilkas' arm and gently nudged him aside. "Let me have a look."
Vilkas nodded. She reached out, brushing her palm against Vilkas' jaw and allowing her gaze to linger on his face for some moments. Then, she pulled the amulet Vilkas always wore from his neck. By the time she leaned over Farkas to check his life-signs, a small, golden light already burnt in her hand.
"Can you find anything?"
"He is sleeping," Falka mumbled incredulously.
"Then why can't we wake him?"
Falka shrugged. "Drugs, maybe? How else would three old hags keep your brother in check?"
"These three hags almost got you two," Aela mumbled. She stepped up to the altar facing her shield-siblings across Farkas' prone body. "The cavern is secure, there's only one smaller room behind this one." She looked them over. "And you look terrible."
Vilkas was still leaning heavily on the stone slab, and Falka was on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion.
"What did you find?"
"Bodies. Lots of bodies." The memory made Aela shudder.
"Other travellers?"
Aela shook her head. "I don't think so. They were all Forsworn. Mostly children."
"Kyne have mercy," Falka breathed.
"They left only the warriors alive..."
"And laid Farkas on a stone altar. What were they up to?"
Falka covered her mouth with her hand. On the faces of her Companions, she saw the mirror images of her own horror.
Since the brothers and Falka were in no shape to travel, they decided to put up camp in the cavern. Together, they pulled Farkas from the stone altar and bedded him on some furs and blankets. Vilkas sank to the ground next to his twin, making himself comfortable with his back against the rock wall. And on his other side, Falka nearly collapsed to the ground so tired was she. She was asleep the instant she had she curled up next to him in some sleeping furs.
When Aela returned from another round through the cavern, she had to suppress the faint smile that tugged at her lips at the sight of her three closest friends. One unconscious, one already asleep, and one still too stubborn to give in to exhaustion.
"Here," she pressed a bottle of ale and some bread into Vilkas' hands. "You must be starving." She then put a woollen blanket over Farkas' sleeping form. Again, she noted the strange smell, and it worried her.
Vilkas watched her while he chewed on the stale food. "This is wrong," he commented once Aela had finished.
Squatting at Farkas' side, Aela let her eyes travel across her shield-brother's prone body. "Aye, 't is. Maybe some potion they fed him to keep him sedated?" she ventured, lifting her gaze to look at Vilkas. Aela could not help but notice the dried blood on his fingers. "What happened to you?"
Vilkas' trademark stoic expression broke for an instant and gave way to one of pain. "Red..." He hesitated, studying the dried blood. "Red caught an arrow."
"Vilkas..." For a moment, Aela was at a loss for words. Her gaze flickered across the sleeping woman's form, catching Vilkas' tender gesture as he buried his fingers in Falka's hair.
"And what's wrong with your leg?"
"Nothing. Just the after-effects of some magic blast or something," he waved away her concern. "Have you found Calla?"
"No." Aela shook her head, dropping her gaze to the ground.
"But you—"
"I did look, Vilkas. Thoroughly. I went through the pile of corpses, but there was no Dunmer among them."
The muscles in his face twitched, but Vilkas refrained from saying anything.
"Have some rest," Aela advised him. "I'll keep watch while you three sleep." Gently, she padded Farkas' head, then turned and disappeared.
Slowly, Falka drifted out of her dream. The cold had wormed its way into her weary body, despite the furs she lay on. Her muscles ached, stiff from the torture her body had gone through these last few days. She let out a low moan. And the wound in her side itched.
Eventually, she forced her eyes open.
Vilkas was slouching next to her. He was asleep, with his chin resting on his chest and his unruly hair covering most of his face.
A faint smile curled Falka's lips. They had made it. Despite everything, they had found Farkas.
Vilkas shifted in his sleep, pulling his hand from Falka's shoulder. He groaned as his stiff muscles protested.
Smiling, Falka caught his gaze. "Hey, wolf."
Vilkas yawned.
"I did not want to wake you," she apologized.
"You didn't." Vilkas sighed, stretching his stiff limbs. "How are you?"
Falka pulled a face. "I feel like shit."
Vilkas chuckled, and lent down to place a kiss on her lips. Falka shuffled closer. She relished the touch of his lips on hers, his smell in her nostrils, his arms around her shoulders.
"Even here I find you two snogging," a familiar voice interrupted after some time. "It's a wonder nobody managed to kill you until now. At least you're still dressed."
Falka chuckled against Vilkas' lips. "Hello Athis."
"Athis." Vilkas couldn't fully hide his annoyance. "What are you doing here?"
"Rescuing you. Me and Leif came with Aela, only she lost us on the last leg of the journey."
Falka shifted to look at the elf. "It's good to see you."
"Aye, you too. And you found Farkas." He squatted down beside the huge man, studying him closely. "What's wrong with him?"
Falka shook her head. "I do not know. We found him like this. He is alive, but..." She shrugged. "Where's Aela?"
Athis lifted his gaze from the prone body between them. "She left, went to get Danica. I told her we'd follow as soon as we could. There should be some cart outside, so if we can only get Farkas there, we can get on the road." He looked around the cavern, suppressing a shudder. "This place is so wrong, so let's get moving. Now that you're awake, I'll take Leif and go topside, see if we can't find something to transport Farkas in. You have something to eat, and we'll find you later." Athis left them some bread, dried apples and bottles of cider, then left them alone.
Falka buried her teeth in the bread, sighing in relief. "I am starving," she declared between bites. Vilkas mirrored her example, and they ate in silence for some time.
Afterwards, Falka started rummaging through their bags, producing two bottles of crystal-clear liquid. "Do you think you can make Farkas swallow something?" she asked.
Slowly, they fed Farkas the contents of the bottles. He neither woke nor fought against it as Vilkas ever so slowly poured a few drops onto his brother's dry lips, but he did swallow the liquid.
"Do you think he'll wake up again?" Vilkas eventually voiced his concerns.
Falka's heart ached. "I hope so," she whispered after a few moments. "I do not know, but..."
Grimly, Vilkas nodded.
"He is still swallowing, and I would say that is a good sign." Falka wrapped her arms around Vilkas. "If anybody can live through this, it's you brother."
Some time later, Falka finally got up. Behind her, Vilkas strove to do the same, but even before he was standing, his leg buckled under his weight. A strangled exclamation escaped his lips.
Falka whipped around. "Vilkas, what is wrong?"
Vilkas' face was clenched in pain, and he was grasping his leg with both hands.
"Vilkas!" She was at his side in an instant.
"It's all right," Vilkas growled.
"No, it is not! It is your leg again!"
"Red!"
But Falka was already opening the straps on his greaves and pulling them off. Ineffectually, Vilkas tried to stop her, but Falka only shoved his hands away. Giving in to reason, Vilkas leant back against the wall. He closed his eyes, submitting himself to the situation. He felt Falka's hands on his skin as she pushed up the fabric of his trousers. Then, her movements stilled. A sharp gasp made him open his eyes again. The look on Falka's face did not bode well.
Vilkas swallowed, and forced himself to look. He felt his legs weakening the moment he saw it. Black veins criss-crossed his pallid skin, spreading across his thigh like a spider web.
Falka's thoughts were racing. Whatever Vilkas had caught, it had poisoned his leg. Fear and panic flooded her veins. She tried to be brave, but her nerves couldn't muster the sight. Dry-heaves wreaked her body. On trembling legs, Falka leaned herself against the stone wall, gasping for air.
Without a word, Vilkas re-arranged his clothes.
When Falka found the courage to look at him, she already found Vilkas' gaze on her.
"I'm still here, Red."
She sighed, wiping a few tears from her face.
"There should be another potion in my pack."
Falka's frantic search brought forth a handful of potions, one of which she passed straight on to him.
"Thank— Red, what are you doing?"
"What does it look like?" she snapped, her fingers engulfed in golden light.
"No, don't, save you energies for Farkas—"
Falka jerked upright, a determined mien on her face. Vilkas didn't know what was coming as she crushed her lips against his, silencing him with a brutal kiss. "Shut up," she breathed against his skin, her fingernails digging into his scalp. "Just shut up."
By the time Athis and Leif came back down into the cavern, Falka was dividing her healing powers between Vilkas and his brother, taking swigs from a potion from time to time. Empty bottles littered the ground around the trio.
"Are you ready to go?" Athis inquired.
"As ready as we'll ever be," Vilkas replied. With Falka's help, he struggled to stand.
Supported by Athis, Leif shouldered Farkas' prone form, and together they stumbled out of the gruesome cavern.