Vilkas stepped onto the main floor of the mead hall, still in a haze, to find Aela waiting for him. She was scowling, as she nearly always did these days, with her arms folded across her chest.

"How'd it go?" she asked.

Vilkas raised an eyebrow at her. "To what are you referring?"

Aela rolled her eyes at him and said, "Don't be stupid, Vilkas, you aren't fooling anyone. You went to try and change her mind, didn't you?"

"Not quite," he grumbled.

"How did it go?" she asked again.

"About how you'd expect with her." Vilkas moved to walk past her, but the huntress reached out and grabbed his arm.

"I know she won't change her mind, but I also know you don't want her to go." Aela searched his eyes. "None of us do, Vilkas."

"Then why are you letting her?" he hissed at her.

Aela barked out a laugh. "We both know that's not how she operates. Aveline will do whatever she thinks is best. We can't change her mind. She's leaving no matter what, that much is settled. The real issue is, what are you going to do now?"

Vilkas stared at the redhead. "There's not much I can do, is there."

Aela was scowling at him again, which could only mean he had said the wrong thing. She snorted and turned away as if disgusted. "Look, if you want to be miserable it makes no difference to me. But you two had something going, and if you're dim-witted enough to let her trot off to war alone, I don't want you as our Harbinger."

She walked away from him, and his anger slammed into him. He ran a hand through his slightly-greased hair, grinding his teeth—When was the last time I bathed?—and headed toward the back. He needed to hit something, needed to expel this somehow or he would lash out at someone. He realized briefly if he'd still had his curse, his monster would have broken forth hours ago.

He unleashed his fury upon the training dummy, his joints cracking as fists and elbows and knees connected with the burlap. Straw began poking through the coarse fabric, stabbing his skin with each hit, but he kept on. Who did Aela think she was? He had been right-hand to the Harbinger for years. Kodlak had trusted him, Aveline had trusted him, to take care of business as the second in command. Why, now of all times, was Aela questioning his leadership?

He didn't know how long he was out there. His arms throbbed, his knuckles shredded from the wood of the dummy's limbs, and the burlap sack was streaked with his blood. It seemed that no matter his wants, his hopes, his dreams, the world would keep happening without his input. He hadn't wanted to be married, he hadn't wanted to fall for Aveline, he hadn't wanted her to go to war—but no one had cared.

Someone was shouting his name. He heard it as if through a fog. Aveline was leaving the day after tomorrow. She didn't expect to live through it. She would leave believing he hated her, that she had made him nothing but miserable. Would she die with those thoughts in her head? Alduin hadn't killed her, but that was the closest she'd ever been to death in the four years he had known her. She never came out of a battle looking so beaten up, and with the war she seemed so sure of her fate. Would this be how he lost her?

Someone grabbed his arms and held him back. He struggled to hit the dummy, to expel his remaining anger.

"Vilkas! Vilkas, for Shor's sake, stop it!"

"Farkas?" Vilkas gasped out. "Farkas, it's you." He stopped struggling, breathing hard in his brother's strong grip.

Farkas' face was riddled with fear and concern. "Oh shit, Vilkas, what did you do to yourself?"

"It's nothing," he said gruffly.

In truth, it wasn't nothing. He was bleeding profusely down his hands and arms. Farkas squinted at his brother's injuries, taking in the extent of the damage.

"We'll have to get Aveline," Farkas muttered. "She'll need to take a look at this, you know I'm no good with the medical stuff."

Vilkas grunted, ripping himself away from Farkas. "No! Don't need her. Just bandage me up as best you can."

His brother wanted to argue, wanted to insist that they get Aveline—Vilkas could see it in his eyes. Farkas had gotten more comfortable around magic since Aveline had joined them. Five years ago, Farkas would have told him to rub some dirt into it and have some mead. Now, everything more serious than a papercut required Aveline's restoration magic. This reminded Vilkas again of the level of familiarity between his brother and his wife, and that only pissed him off more.

"Vilkas, that looks painful..." Farkas urged.

"Bandage it, or let it bleed," Vilkas ground out through clenched teeth.

Farkas bit his tongue, clumsily bandaging his brother's hands. Vilkas had the fleeting thought that he should have just done it himself, and then he remembered the last time he had bandaged someone's hand. He remembered the softness to her skin, the emptiness in her eyes, and he stomped the thought down.

"Why did you do that, Vilkas?" Farkas asked in a quiet voice. "What reason could you have?"

"I just needed a distraction."

"You've always been intense, brother, but this..." Farkas put a hand over his eyes and sighed. "There's no reason for you to act like this. If Aveline's departure bothers you this much, do something about it, don't go savage on a dummy until you injure yourself."

"It doesn't!" Vilkas snapped. Farkas raised his eyebrows, and Vilkas lowered his volume. "It doesn't bother me."

"That's bullshit, Vilkas, and we both know it." Farkas was scowling. "Who are you fooling? None of us believe you, not Aela and certainly not me."

"Why would it bother me that she's leaving?" Vilkas' voice was low, his mind clearly somewhere else. He wondered if he even believed what he was trying to sell to Farkas. "She's absolutely asinine, she has no sense of urgency, she...she's closed off and frustrating and self-absorbed and she doesn't give a shit about anyone else—"

"You know none of that is true, brother," Farkas scoffed. "You know she's brilliant, you know she hardly ever thinks of herself before others. She'd put the welfare of that stray dog in the Plains District before her own."

I know, Vilkas thought. He did know it. Why did Farkas think he was worrying so much? She'd be so busy protecting everyone else on the battlefield—Worried? I'm not worried. Why in Oblivion would I be worried? The ice queen can take care of herself, I'm sure. He wanted to throw something. Where was that training dummy?

"She puts us first, the Companions have always been first to her," Farkas whispered. "You like to pretend you don't, but you can see that, Vilkas, or you never would have accepted her as our Harbinger. Can't you see that what she's doing now is for us?" Farkas appealed to his brother, a large hand on his shoulder. "If she goes to war as our Harbinger, she takes us with her. She knew how much Kodlak wanted to keep us neutral. She doesn't want to resign, Vilkas, blow the smoke from your eyes!"

"Stop telling me about my wife!" Vilkas exploded. "She's my wife! These are things—" He stopped, horrified, and stared at his brother. These are things I should know about her. So why is it that you can see all this and I can't?

"Oh, for the love of Talos!" Farkas exploded. "Swallow your pride for five minutes, brother, five minutes, and answer me this: you love her, don't you?"

"I..." He couldn't answer. Could he say it? Would he lose something if he admitted it? It certainly felt that way.

Farkas rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Do you want her to stay?"

Vilkas swallowed and lifted a bandaged hand to his eyes. "I...Yes."

"You know there's no changing her mind. She's going," said Farkas bluntly. "Do you want to go with her?"

"Farkas, I don't see the point—"

"Answer me, Vilkas." Farkas was very firm. He crossed his arms over his broad chest. "Do you want to go with her?"

"That's...Yes."

"Do you think she was a good leader?" Farkas pressed.

"Yes," he said, grudgingly.

"Do you love her?"

"Ye—Don't try to trick me, Farkas!"

Farkas gave his brother a wry smile. "There's something you need to be a part of. Come inside." Farkas stepped away from him, adding, "Don't even think about going after the training dummy again. Any more damage to your hands and you won't be able to hold a greatsword."

A/N: Sorry this took so long. I just finished editing a long manuscript and finally took some time off work. I'll have more time to write now. Aela and Farkas are trying really hard to nudge Vilkas in the right direction.

Thoughts?