Vilkas didn't return that night or the next morning, much to Lisara's dismay.
After his abrupt departure, Lisara had rushed out into the hall after him only to see the main doors close with a resounding thud. Master Arngeir was standing beside the entrance and when she'd tried to go after Vilkas, the Greybeard had—in a quiet voice that was no less commanding—implored her to stay and give him some space.
"He will return when he feels ready," he'd said.
There had been little else for her to do but wait until Vilkas returned, and so she'd headed back to his room in the hopes that she'd catch him when he did. This wasn't something that they could just move past without addressing what had happened; whether he wanted to or not, they'd have to talk about it. She knew how difficult it was to share secrets that you'd wanted to keep dormant forever, but they couldn't continue traveling together if this was constantly nagging at her. So many questions had arisen from last night's encounter, and in order to fully trust him again, she needed answers.
By that point, it was past midnight, and Lisara relentlessly fought to resist the persistent waves of sleep that threatened to pull her under. Eventually, sometime just before dawn, she succumbed to the siren call of oblivion. As her eyes slid shut, the last conscious thought she had was of Vilkas.
What if he doesn't come back?
The sound of metal scraping against stone jerked Lisara from the depths of slumber and threw her back into the world of the living. Disoriented, she bolted upright in bed and frantically looked around the room for the source of the noise. Her eyes fell on Vilkas, who was leaning against the closed door and staring down his nose at her from under heavy-lidded eyes. His clothes were covered in dirt, and it looked like there were a few twigs tangled in his already unruly hair. Overall, it looked like he'd gone sprinting through the forest with no regard to the direction or his surroundings, like he'd simply wished to get as far away from her as fast as possible. If the dark rings beneath his eyes were any indication, Lisara surmised that he hadn't slept at all last night.
Well, that made two of them.
They sat there, staring at each other in silence for a few uncomfortable seconds, until Vilkas pushed off of the door and slowly traipsed over to the water basin at the foot of the bed. During the entire time it took him to cross the room, he never once made eye contact with her. She watched him with a passive expression, waiting to see whether he'd be the first one to say something or whether she'd have to do it.
When she heard the water splash in the bowl, she sighed and unfolded her legs, cringing ever-so-slightly when her bare feet hit the cold stone.
"So it's going to be me, then?" she called out to him, her voice reverberating around the room.
He stilled, his shoulders tense as he braced himself on the edge of the basin. Without facing her, he mumbled, "What do you want me to say?"
"Anything would be good at this moment in time."
Instead of a response, he bowed his head, causing his chestnut-colored hair to fall forward and block what little of his profile she'd been able to see. A long, ragged sigh left him, and when he said nothing else, Lisara wondered if perhaps this was where they went their separate ways.
She rose to her feet, crossing her arms over her chest as she faced his back. "I feel like I'm at least owed an explanation, Vilkas. Especially if this is to be where we say goodbye."
With that, he finally spun around to look at her, and his eyes were wide with surprise. "Goodbye?"
Frustrated at his obliviousness, she threw her hands up in the air. "Well what else do you expect me to think? Did you honestly believe that I would just drop it? That you could just walk back in here and expect me not to ask you what happened last night?"
He let out another drawn-out sigh. "No, but...I'd hoped that would be the case."
"Then you're a bigger fool than I took you for."
That didn't seem to sit too well with Vilkas, because he furrowed his eyebrows and looked away from her.
Overcome with a sense of dejection, Lisara stepped closer to Vilkas, desperately trying to appeal to him. "Vilkas," she implored, "please talk to me. I know how difficult it is to share something personal—it was incredibly hard for me, too. But I believe that whatever the reason is, we can work through it together. But that isn't possible if you don't trust me enough to talk to me. I trusted you."
Slowly, he faced her once more, though he still didn't say anything. A few seconds passed with the two of them holding one another's gaze until finally, Vilkas gestured to the bed. "You might want to sit down for this."
"Sit down? Why?"
"Just...trust me. It's usually easier to process if one is sitting down."
I suppose it can't hurt to follow his advice. "All right, then. I'll humor you." Lisara headed back to the bed and plopped down on the fur covers. Once she was sitting, she gestured to the center of the room.
Vilkas strode forward and stood immediately across from her, rolling his shoulders back and stretching his muscles. Confused, Lisara asked, "What are you doing?"
"You wanted to know why I ran out of the room last night?"
"Well, yes."
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly through his nose. "You've heard of werewolves, yes?"
What in...? "In stories and fairytales, of course. Where are you going with this, Vilkas?"
"You'll see. I just want to make sure that I explain as much as I can beforehand."
"Before what?"
"Will you stop asking questions and let me speak?" he asked, sounding irritated.
She held up her hands in a placating gesture and he continued after letting out a huff. "What I'm about to tell you, you must promise to keep a secret. There are only a handful of people who even know about this, and we want to keep it that way."
Without hesitation, she replied, "I promise."
"I mean it, Lisara. You must tell no one."
"Vilkas, please. It isn't as if I go around spilling secrets and telling people who it is I work for. I'm rather adept at keeping secrets. I would've thought you'd know that by now."
"Fair enough," he grunted. Slowly, he paced back and forth as he started speaking. "There are a select few amongst the Companions that we call The Circle. Members are added by personal invitation only, and there is a very good reason for that."
Lisara nodded to indicate that she was still listening, and Vilkas continued. "Each member of The Circle is...gifted...with something that enhances our abilities. It isn't something that can be shared with everyone in the Companions because it can be difficult to control. Kodlak calls it 'the beast blood'."
"Beast blood? That can't be good."
Vilkas snorted. "That is an understatement. It's a curse—though if you were to ask Aela and Skjor, they'd say otherwise."
"Aela and Skjor? So who exactly is in The Circle?"
"Aside from those two, myself, Farkas, and Kodlak."
"What exactly does this 'beast blood' do?"
At that, he halted in place and ran his hands through his hair in a single rough motion. After a few seconds, he turned around and locked eyes with her; his hands were clenched at his sides. She could see the muscle in his jaw twitching even from across the room, and she raised an eyebrow at him.
"Are you all right, Vilkas? You seem rather...tense."
"That's because I am tense. I know that you—I just—" He wrung his hands and frantically gestured at her. "You want to know the reason why I've been distant ever since we met, and the reason why I ran last night. You deserve to know, and I understand that, but that doesn't mean I want to tell you. Or that I'm positive that telling you is even a good idea."
"I wasn't positive that telling you about Elias was a good idea, either. In fact, I've never told anyone about him. No one is ever positive about sharing a vulnerable piece of themselves. But if you want to continue on together, then I have to know," Lisara explained.
He ran his fingers through his hair again, but this time, he pulled on the ends and let out a sharp breath. "Fine. But you have to promise not to scream."
"Scream?" Lisara echoed, flabbergasted.
"Yes, scream. I would never attack you, I'm sure of that. But I...I know that you will be frightened. You just have to remember that it's me, and I would never hurt you." Quickly, he crossed the room to stand in front of her and cradled her face in his hands. The gentle brush of his thumb along her cheekbones caused a fresh wave of desire to flush through her, and her eyelids fluttered shut.
"I would never hurt you," he repeated under his breath, before gently pressing his lips against hers.
The kiss lasted only a moment before Vilkas pulled away and backpedaled to the middle of the room again. "Do you promise not to scream?"
Lisara rolled her eyes and crossed her arms and legs. His pleading seemed overly dramatic, and she doubted whatever 'trick' he was planning on performing wouldn't come close to eliciting a scream from her. "I promise."
Whatever it was he was about to show her, and whatever he'd been spouting about "The Circle" and this "beast blood" business, couldn't be that bad. Honestly, she expected him to pick up the dresser and showcase his "inhuman strength" or something along those lines, like most Nords she'd met. How that was supposed to make her scream, she had no idea, but the entire thing seemed preposterous.
It simply sounded like an excuse for his behavior last night, and it irritated Lisara that he wasn't taking her seriously; that he didn't seem to trust her enough to tell her the truth. As difficult as it had been for her, she'd told him the truth about her brother.
Why couldn't he do the same?
Pained grunting pulled Lisara out of her reverie and when she glanced up, she saw Vilkas peeling off his mud-saturated shirt. He tossed it to the floor, and in a voice filled with confusion and a hint of panic, she questioned, "What are you doing?"
"You'll see—" A grimace interrupted him. "—in a moment."
Next, he stripped his pants off and Lisara felt the heat of a blush creep along her cheeks at the sight of him in just his undercloth. Last night had been intimate—there was no doubt about that—but it was daytime now, and there was no hiding in the shadows. She could see every hair that littered his chest and abdomen, and couldn't help but admire the flex of his strong thigh muscles as he kicked aside his pants.
"Whatever you're showing me requires you to be practically naked?" she tried to joke.
When he nodded with a serious expression, her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Oh, all right, then," she murmured.
Without warning, he buckled and fell forward, bracing his hands on his thighs. His breath came quicker and it almost sounded like he was fighting to catch it. The muscles of his back were incredibly tense, and from the way the sun hit him, it looked like there was a light sheen of sweat on his skin. His biceps bulged to an inhuman size and he let out another grunt.
Concerned, Lisara rose to her feet and reached her hand out. "Vilkas?"
"Stay back!" he exclaimed, throwing his arm out to dissuade her from approaching him.
Startled, Lisara rocked back onto her heels and held her hands up, heeding his advice. This time, she actually felt that it was warranted; she could hear the alarm in his voice and from his posture alone, she could see that something serious was about to occur. She sat back down on the bed, riddled with apprehension.
Another groan escaped him, and she thought this one sounded much more pained than the last. He curled in on himself even more than before, and an ebony cloud of what appeared to be mist and fog enveloped him, obscuring his frame completely. Lisara's concern grew exponentially at the sight. Mist and fog were generally a milky white, not as dark as the Void. There was no way this was natural, and the small voice at the back of her mind reminded her that Vilkas had asked whether she'd heard of werewolves.
Why would he ask me that? What is going on? Subconsciously, Lisara scooted backwards on the bed until her back hit the wall. She gripped the blankets tightly as her breathing quickened.
When the shroud began to fade, Vilkas unfurled his large body, but he didn't stop where Lisara expected him to. He continued up, and up, and up, until his silhouette stood nearly a full foot taller than she knew him to be. As the shadowed veil dissipated even more, she saw taloned hands where his once human ones had been, and rich brown fur covered his entire body. Finally, as the fog disappeared completely, she looked into the yellowed eyes that were set deep behind an elongated snout. The sight of his sharp fangs, paired with the deep rumble that came from the beast's chest, pushed her over the edge.
A shrill scream escaped her and the creature lunged forward to slap its paw over her mouth, knocking her head back with the sheer force behind the motion. Its claws grazed her cheek and the sensation caused her to panic even more. Terrified, she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to turn away from it. Down to her very core, she believed that it was going to rip her insides out and leave her for dead.
She'd deserve it for being such an idiot.
To her surprise, it nuzzled her with the side of its snout and its whiskers tickled her cheek. With her breaths leaving her in staccato beats, she cracked an eye open and winced when she noticed that the creature had come closer. Its eye was only a few inches away from her face, and she was taken aback when all it did was blink slowly at her. If she'd been a bit less panicked, she might've thought it looked like it was pleading with her.
When it nuzzled her again, she drew her eyebrows together in confusion. At an extremely languid pace, it pulled its paw back, seemingly pleading with her not to scream again. It backed away from the bed before rising to its full height, staring down its snout at her. At the last second, Lisara realized her weapons belt was likely laying on the floor right beside the bed where Vilkas had tossed it aside in the heat of the moment last night. When the beast glanced away from her and back at the door, she leapt off the bed and leaned down, grasping the handle of her dagger and unsheathing it in one fluid motion before darting across the room.
The edge of her blade bit into the creature's thigh, and had it been a normal beast, it would've severed an artery. As her luck would have it, it only served to anger the creature and it spun back around, knocking the dagger out of Lisara's hand with the back of its paw.
She stumbled back, trying to avoid its talons. When it grasped her upper arms in its unrelenting grip, she struggled to break free as another scream threatened to claw its way up her throat. The beast must've realized what she was about to do because it clamped its paw back over her face before shoving her down on top of the bed.
Again, she squeezed her eyes shut in fear, and a tear escaped and slid down her cheek. The beast gradually removed its paw, curling a taloned digit to wipe the tear from her skin. For a mindless beast, it was an uncharacteristically human action, and she looked up at it in surprise. Their gazes locked and it leaned down to nuzzle her chin, albeit slowly so as not to frighten her.
She froze, though it was more of a precaution than anything; her previously stark fear had mellowed into a faint inkling at the back of her mind. It seemed like the creature's close proximity made all of her synapses short-circuit, and she could think of nothing but its presence.
The beast's coarse hair tickled the soft skin of her cheek, and she sucked in a deep breath in an attempt to steel herself for what was to come. When the potent scent of pine trees tinged with the metallic tang of weaponry hit her—weaponry that was well-cared for: oiled regularly, and used with reverence—she let the air in her lungs out in a loud whoosh.
It smelled exactly like Vilkas.
She looked up into its eyes and held its gaze intently when she saw that it was staring down at her with the same level of intensity. After a few seconds of tense silence, it slowly leaned down and nuzzled her cheek again, never breaking eye contact. She breathed in its oddly-familiar scent once more, realizing that her fear of it was now completely gone.
Hesitantly, she reached up and placed her hand on its snout, lightly stroking the rough strands of its fur. It emitted a deep grumble that seemed to come from the depths of its chest, and she chuckled at the predictably masculine response.
Even though a tiny voice at the back of her mind told her that it couldn't be possible, that werewolves were not real, she couldn't help but wonder if perhaps it truly was Vilkas. As she continued to pet its fur, she inspected its yellowed eyes, searching for any semblance of humanity.
It gazed back at her like before, but this time, it lowered its eyebrows as if imploring her to believe it—or perhaps that was just her mind filling in the blanks. Quietly, she murmured, "Vilkas? Is that really you?"
Its only response was to nuzzle her cheek again. She leaned back to put a bit more space between them, then reached up and cradled its cheek. It leaned into her touch, and she knew then with utmost certainty that it was Vilkas.
"I don't believe it." She let out a small chuckle when he nudged her hand aside in what she assumed was irritation.
"How did this happen to you?" she asked. When he let out a huff through his teeth, she added, "I suppose it was stupid of me to ask when you can't speak."
Vilkas nodded, which elicited a smile from Lisara. In some form of animal instinct, he must've understood that she no longer thought he was a threat. He leaned back and shifted his weight onto his good thigh, leaning down to cradle the gash in his other leg.
Her gaze followed his motions, and she cleared her throat before pointing to the wound. "Sorry. You took me a bit off guard."
He grunted and straightened with an odd expression on his face. It wasn't the easiest thing, trying to figure out emotions on an animal's face, so she tried to decipher his body language instead. His ears were pointed forward, though they weren't perked, which meant that he wasn't on alert—simply focused on something. His shoulders were back and his posture open, but before she could wonder what exactly that meant, he crumpled forward and cradled his wide frame with his arms.
Worry flooded through her, and she questioned, "Vilkas? What's going on?"
Her only response from him was another grunt, and this time it was pained like it had been when he'd initially transformed. She rose from the bed but stayed beside it, in case he told her to keep her distance like he had before.
Another cloud of dark mist enveloped him, but she could see through this one somewhat—enough to see the broad width of his shoulders shrink bit by bit from over seven feet tall to a size that was closer to his usual girth. This transformation didn't take nearly as much time as the first one. When he straightened and the fog had gradually faded down to his chest, a face she recognized stared back at her.
"That's the handsome mug I know," Lisara teased.
Vilkas rolled his eyes in response. Much to her shock, when the fog disappeared from his lower abdomen, she realized he was naked. A gasp escaped her and she whirled around, staring at the wall with wide eyes.
"I didn't know that—I'm sorry, I—" She trailed off, mentally chastising herself for blubbering like an idiot. It wasn't anything she hadn't seen before, but it had taken her by surprise and she hadn't known how to react.
Ruffling sounds came from behind her and a few seconds later, Vilkas laid his hand on her shoulder, gently turning her back around. He'd grabbed his cloth pants from the floor and slid them back on in an attempt to retain his modesty. "It's all right, Lisara. Thank Talos for last night, because that isn't exactly the way I'd like for you to see me in the nude for the first time, hm?"
Briefly, with a chuckle, she glanced down at the floor before meeting his gaze again. "Yes, thank Talos for that…"
"You wanted to talk. Now that you've seen...what it is I have to deal with, do you still wish to do so?"
"More than ever."
Vilkas nodded and gestured to the bed. She accepted his silent invitation and slid back onto the covers as he sat down beside her. In a quiet voice, he started off with, "What do you wish to know?"
Lisara fiddled with her fingers in her lap as she tried to collect her thoughts. She had so many questions; it was difficult to figure out where to start. "Earlier you said...you asked me whether I wanted to know why you'd run out of the room last night. I'm assuming that somehow this is why?"
"It is why. The beast blood affects people in different ways, but there are a few things that are standard for most. An inability to sleep is one—"
Lisara interrupted him and asked, "An inability to sleep? Is that why you're always offering to take first watch? And then you never wake me so that I can take over?"
"Interrupting people is generally considered rude, Lisara," Vilkas joked with a grin. "But yes, that's why."
"So many questions answered," she muttered. "Sorry I interrupted you. Please, continue."
A dry laugh left him at her unnecessary prompt. "As I was saying, in addition to not being able to fall into a deep sleep, it also makes my...I hesitate to say thirst for blood but essentially that's what it is. When I fight, I tend to be more violent than I normally would be. It's difficult for me to stop when the fight is over, because all I crave is more of that rush. That also translates to—" He broke off with a cough, before finishing with, "—ahem, relations with women."
"Are you trying to tell me that you're rough in bed, Vilkas?" Lisara asked, an eyebrow raised sardonically.
"Yes. I am."
Her mouth formed a perfect "o" of surprise; she hadn't expected him to mean that quite literally. When she failed to respond, he cleared his throat and continued his explanation.
"I'm not trying to frighten you away, Lisara. I just want you to know what you might be getting into. Last night, I—I was afraid that I would lose control with you. That's why I ran out of here. The members of The Circle are werewolves, yes, but our curse is a bit different from the standard affliction; the full moon does not affect our ability to turn. It does, however, strengthen some of the urges that we try to keep at bay. One of those being desires of the...carnal sort.
"I didn't trust myself to handle you the way that I normally would—the way that you deserve. A moment that intimate shouldn't be clouded by a problem—a curse—that I need to deal with on my own," he finished with a grimace.
At that, Lisara shook her head fervently as she faced him head-on. She reached out and slid her fingers into his, intertwining them. When he glanced down at their joined hands, then back up at her, she said, "You don't have to deal with it on your own, Vilkas. I know that you feel like you do, that this is a shameful burden you can't share with anyone else, but that isn't true!"
He scoffed and looked away from her, focusing his gaze on the floor beside the bed. Refusing to feel discouraged at his obvious dismissal of her statement, she reached up and cradled his cheek before gently turning his head back. "Vilkas, I'm serious. It means a lot to me that you shared this with me. I know it can't have been easy. My little secret significantly pales in comparison to yours," she tried to joke.
When the corner of his lips twitched upwards, she continued with renewed hope. "I'm always here if you feel like you need to talk about it. If one day in particular is more difficult than usual, or if you can't sleep and feel frustrated, wake me up."
His eyes dropped to their hands again, and she tightened her grip to get his attention. "Promise me that you won't deal with this alone."
A few seconds passed with no response, and she squeezed his hand once more. "Vilkas? Promise me."
"All right, all right. By the Nine, you're persistent. I promise," he muttered.
A smile overtook Lisara's face and she pulled her hand out of his before bounding off the bed. "Good. Now get up! We've a journey to continue on!"
Vilkas rolled his eyes before rising to his feet as well. "And suddenly, you are annoyingly optimistic."
Three hours later.
With their bags packed and their goodbyes said, Lisara and Vilkas left High Hrothgar and set out for Riverwood. Their original plan had been to stop by Whiterun before heading out to meet up with Delphine, but since it was in the opposite direction, Vilkas voted in favor of heading straight south.
When their business with the last remaining Blade was finished, they could return home then.
They'd only been on the road for about thirty minutes before their horses' ears flickered to the west in response to something that neither Lisara nor Vilkas could hear yet. Shadowmere began shifting his weight and leaning forward, eager to move along at a faster pace. Unlike his usual enthusiasm for a brisk ride, this time, he was far more tense, which caused Lisara to worry.
"How's your hearing?" she asked Vilkas who had come to a stop beside her.
"Not as good as when I'm in beast form. I can only transform once a day though, and I already used that up this morning."
She hummed in response before pulling on Shadowmere's reins, turning them both to face west. "So you can't hear what they hear?"
"No. Doesn't mean we can't be prepared," he muttered, unsheathing his sword from his back.
She tilted her head in agreement before unhooking her bow from her saddle. After quickly unattaching the quiver from the opposite side and hoisting it onto her back, she nocked an arrow and waited with bated breath for a sign of what was coming. Vilkas clicked his tongue at his mount and they slowly edged forward; his head gradually moved from side to side as he kept watch for the first sign of movement.
When he was quite a ways ahead of her, he came to a stop and stared off into the distance for nearly a minute before starting to turn back around. He was only partially facing her when an arrow whizzed past her and struck Vilkas' mount in the front left leg. His horse reared up in pain, and he nimbly leapt off its back to avoid being thrown to the ground.
As he recovered, Lisara jerked Shadowmere's reins to the left and then pulled her bowstring back to retaliate. However, she couldn't see who had shot the arrow and scanned the treeline in the distance, hoping that she could find them before they attacked again. Much to her irritation, another arrow zoomed past her, nearly grazing her arm.
She let out a shocked gasp before looking back at the treeline again. "Stupid move on your part," she mumbled, taking aim and letting the arrow fly towards its target. Thanks to the second shot, she knew exactly where it had come from this time.
A thump came from the forest, followed by the rustle of leaves, and Lisara nudged Shadowmere into a sprint. Just before they reached the trees, she swung him to the side and hopped off, rolling as she hit the ground. When she straightened, she dove into the forest and ran in the direction of where the arrows had come from. Only a few seconds later, she emerged in an empty clearing that was in the exact area that she knew the archer had to have been. She inspected the area for clues, and when she saw a discarded bow lying next to a bush that was smaller than all the rest, she knew she was in the right place. The only problem was that the archer was already gone.
A discouraged sigh left her, and she propped her hand on her hip as she turned around to gaze behind her. In the opposite direction, across the clearing, she heard someone trampling through the underbrush and whipped her head around.
"Got you," she whispered to herself before sprinting off in the direction of the sound.
As she hurried through the trees and used her arm to block errant branches from whipping her in the face, she finally saw the silhouette of a man up ahead. Pushing her legs to run faster, she gained a bit of ground and eventually, he was only a few feet in front of her. He glanced back over his shoulder at her as he ran, eyes wide with apprehension, before facing forward again. While she continued to run after him, she hastily pulled another arrow from her quiver and shot it at him, cursing under her breath when it missed him by mere inches—he'd ducked, she was sure of it.
When she tried again, she managed to nick him in the right thigh, causing him to stumble enough for her to finally catch up to him. Because she was so slight in comparison to Nords, she often had to use either significant momentum to take them down, or a few well-placed arrows—if her daggers weren't an option. She was far too close for her to unleash a volley of arrows, and her daggers wouldn't be entirely useful until she had him pinned down, so she opted for a tackle instead.
Throwing her weight into him with all of the momentum she'd gained sent the two of them sprawling onto the forest floor. When he tried to scramble to his feet and run away, she unsheathed her dagger and dug it into his calf to prevent him from doing so. He let out an agonized howl and she used the distraction to sweep her leg under him, causing him to crash back down to the ground.
Without wasting a second of her newfound-opportunity, she rolled over onto him and held her blade to his throat. Instantly, he froze, and gazed up at her with wary eyes.
"Who are you, and why did you attack us?" Lisara demanded.
Her only response was a seedy glare, and frustrated with his lack of response, she sank her blade deeper into the thin skin of his neck. A small bead of blood crested over the metal, and she could feel him swallowing hard.
"Abominations should not be allowed to roam this world," he spat.
Confused, Lisara echoed, "Abominations? What are you—"
She was interrupted by the man attempting to sit up, which ended up driving the blade farther into his neck. Shocked, she tried to pull back, but he surprisingly held her wrist in place.
"I would rather die by your blade than be torn apart by him. Unfortunately for your friend, my brothers will see that he is dealt with. That revenge is enough for me." He then swiftly jerked his head to the side, effectively cutting his own throat.
Lisara reeled back onto her heels and leapt away from him as she watched him bleed out onto the dirt. He held her gaze the entire time he sputtered, fighting for air that they both knew he wouldn't be able to hold in his lungs again. Finally, when his eyes fell flat and empty, she rose to her feet and sheathed her dagger.
"By Sithis, when you think you've seen it all," she mumbled. "What did he mean by 'brothers'?"
To her right, a loud cry resonated through the trees. Sharply, she faced that direction and tried to hear what was going on back on the plains. With one last glance back at the armored man who now lay dead on the ground, she turned around and sprinted through the trees, back towards the plains.
Within a couple of minutes, she burst through the treeline and spotted Vilkas a few feet away, trying to fend off four men. At first sight, she thought they were bandits and relief flooded through her at the knowledge that he could handle them. However, when one of them nicked Vilkas in the forearm with a small dagger, he stumbled to the ground, cradling the wound. His chest was heaving and even from where she stood, it looked like he was sweating profusely.
"Vilkas!" she cried in reflex, though she knew as soon as she did that she should've kept quiet.
He glanced up at her as she started to run in his direction, and the men he'd been fighting against followed suit. Frantically, he swept his hand to the side and shouted, "Lisara! Don't! Stay back!"
Angered at the bandits and fearful for Vilkas' well-being, she unsheathed her daggers as she continued to sprint towards them. Once she reached them, the man nearest to her swung his broadsword up and brought it back down, aiming at her head. She deftly rolled to the side and slightly behind him, reaching up to slice the back of his knee. When he crumpled, she stabbed up and under his rib cage, pushing his body aside after pulling out her dagger. After straightening, she whirled around to deal with the rest of the group.
She'd barely met Vilkas' gaze before his eyes widened and he opened his mouth to say something. Before he had a chance to speak, a sharp jab of pain in her lower abdomen caused her to glance down in surprise. When the initial twinge began to radiate outwards, she touched her fingers to her armor. Her gloved fingers glistened in the light when she pulled them away; they were tainted crimson, and a few drops fell from her fingertips to the ground. Confused, she looked back up at Vilkas only to find him staring at her in wide-eyed shock.
Though she knew she shouldn't move in order to prevent the wound from bleeding too much, she tried to take a step towards him and ended up falling to her hands and knees. It must've prompted him to finally react, because he started shouting her name and straining against the bandit who had bound his hands while she'd been stabbed.
"...sara! ..is...ra!"
Everything was blurry now, and slowly, the edges of her vision began to fade. She continued to stare at Vilkas' face without truly seeing him. His mouth was wide, and he was shouting so loud, the veins in his neck were strained and bulging. It was odd, because she couldn't hear him—she couldn't hear anything. With glazed eyes, she watched him elbow his captor and attempt to break free. The bandit yanked on the end of the rope and Vilkas fell backwards. She tried to reach her hand out towards him, but it felt like it weighed twenty stones and she let it fall.
Finally, she collapsed to the ground. Above her, the wide expanse of the nearly cloudless sky captivated her for reasons unknown. Her mind drifted, unable to focus on anything besides the bright shade of blue so high above her. A hand reached for her, and its massive size filled her vision completely. Before she lost consciousness,the last thing she heard before the entire world fell away was the sound of Vilkas' voice.
"Lisara!"
A/N:
So so so sorry that I've made you all wait over a month for an update, only to end it at a cliffhanger! This semester has a pretty intensive work load, so writing in general (as well as necessary revisions) took a lot longer than usual.
As always, thank you to StarryNight101 for beta-reading and helping me remember things about my own story that I can't seem to keep track of :P
A massive thank you to all of my wonderful reviewers for your never-ending patience. To all of my amazing guests (I honestly couldn't ask for better guest reviewers): you're all wonderful and I'm so grateful for you guys. To mia78, lady73, and Order and Chaos, thank you for still reading this story : 3
Thank you to all of my new followers, and anyone who has favorited this story as well!
See you guys next time :)