Libby knew the scarlet dress was little scandalous. And she knew it was definitely not appropriate for upcoming winter, given how low the front dipped, and how much lower the back went. Low enough to reveal through the black lace mesh that she wasn't wearing a corset beneath it.
But after what had transpired with Farkas, and after feeling – something – blossom in her breast, she wanted to dress as she felt. Not to mention she wanted to see the expressions of the rest of the Companions when she strolled in.
And this dress, with its close-fitting bodice, long sleeves, and gently flowing skirt, is about as new and different as it came. She never wore it before, Vex having given it to her when she was about seventeen. At the time, Libby didn't like its style, but now . . . with her "maturing" body . . . it wouldn't hurt to experiment. Her hair was left in loose curls, one side pinned back by a pearl hairpin. She wore simple silver ball earrings as her accessories, the dress itself now doubt willing to draw attention.
Which is why she couldn't help but smile as she headed for the front doors of her mansion and felt the eyes of her servants on her as she wrapped her cloak around her shoulders. She had to admit, she was a bit nervous, mostly because she was worried about the place that Farkas had chosen for their dinner tonight. Knowing him, it would be some tavern; but if he knew her, he should've picked something at least halfway decent.
After he had caught her playing the piano, after sitting in silence for what felt like ages, he had since departed, briefly asking her if she still wanted to attend dinner. Libby doesn't know what possessed her to say yes, but she did. Perhaps she wanted a distraction from the grief that she shared with the princess over those Khajiit rebels. The thought still weighing heavy on her heart.
She throws her hood over her head and exits her home, lifting the skirt of the dress as she walks. The ebony black of her cloak made the red stand out even more as she passed, keeping her coy smile intact. She kept her makeup simple, darkening her eyes and a highlighting her cheekbones, then with a simple pale pink pale lip color. Because she isn't about to smear Farkas' face with red, that is if things turn out that way –
The sun is just setting over the horizon of the Throat of the World, making the sky a lovely tangerine and pale purple. Mounting the steps to Jorrvaskr, Libby pushes open the doors and withdraws her hood. To her delight, most of the Companions are still in the main hall, gathered around the table. Eyes immediately go to her as she enters, and she gives her best innocent smile.
As she makes her way out of her cloak, she makes sure to angle her back away from the crowd – so they can get an eyeful of the exquisite black lace that covers the open back (and mostly covers her scars from Cidhna Mines). She feels the eyes of the servants on her, too, but pretends not to notice.
"Hello to you, too." She says as she folds her cloak over her arm.
She hears one male let out a breath – not Farkas – and she turns to find Torvar grinning, slowly shaking his head. "I think 'stunning,' 'beautiful,' and 'dazzling' are the words you're looking for."
Libby gives an appreciative smile as she descends the stairs, draping her cloak over the back of one of the available chairs. "So," she sighs. "is Farkas ready yet?"
Her arrogance grows along with her smile as the air stiffens. Farkas didn't tell them about their plans it would seem. Though a part of her understands why, she's more rather insulted that he didn't go around saying he had plans with Skyrim's Assassins tonight.
Over in one corner she sees Diamond with her eyes wide and her mouth agape enough to catch flies. She holds a mug in her hand, and she's dressed out of her usual chitin armor – replaced now with a lovely blue tunic and brown pants.
After their crazy ride, Libby felt that Diamond doesn't at least hate her anymore. But there's still a guard that Diamond has, and Libby doesn't know whether or not she wants to break past it. No doubt Diamond built those walls because of Libby, and she doesn't know if she has the right to even try to break them down.
She turns her head to Vilkas, who simply blinks. His eyes travel down the front of her dress, then back up. Then blinks again. "You're wearing that . . . for my brother?"
Libby snorts and deliberately walks past him, giving him a better view of the provocative back. "Oh yes. I am."
"I didn't even know you two had plans tonight."
"Well, now you do." Libby says as she angles her sight over her shoulder.
On perfect cue, the doors to the living quarters opens and footsteps come up and Farkas emerges. Even Libby is surprised at how well he looks. He's completely showered and washed himself as his face is clean of any dirt. He's dressed in a finely made tunic and jacket, enhancing his masculinity and broad shoulders.
His eyes nearly bulge out of his head when he beholds Libby. He was adjusting the cuffs of his jacket when they fell upon her, and Libby just couldn't stop the giggle as his eyebrows raised.
She approaches him, the skirt of her dress sweeping behind her. "Wow. You look great."
Farkas claps his mouth shut and clears his throat. "Thank you. I would return the compliment, but I just can't think of any that suits you."
Libby lowers her head and hunches her shoulders to appear bashful. She folds her hands in front of her and asks, "So, are we ready to go?" She whirls around as she asks, allowing the skirt to bloom and to give Farkas a look at the back of her dress.
"Yeah. Yes, I have the place picked and it's only a walk from Jorrvaskr." Farkas says. "If you don't mind the walk."
"I'll be fine." She smiles.
As Libby gathers her cloak, she can feel Farkas scanning the rest of the Companions, and a part of her feels rather guilty for exposing their plans, but only slightly. Farkas never clarified to her that he was coming to get her at her mansion, nor did he say whether they were to travel by carriage or by foot. Sometimes he's too simple-minded for his own good.
Libby whirls her cloak around her shoulders, concealing her back. Farkas meets her up at the steps and holds the door open for her. He motions her out and Libby thanks him. She pulls her hood up over her head, pulling on her gloves as the chill leeches away the warmth of the hall. She hated winter, mostly because she's forced to wear gloves so her skin won't get dry. Back in the mines, her hands got so dry and cracked that the simplest movement would have them bleeding.
Farkas extends out his arm and Libby takes it. As they descend the steps, she asks, "So, where are we going?"
"We're going to a place that I hope you like. I wanted to find the nicest place I could think of." Farkas answers.
While Libby is delighted he wanted to pick a place that would fit her standards, she worries about what he might've chosen. Usually the places she goes to are expensive or require a membership. Companion he may be, the places she goes to, they still expect some payment, even with a discount.
"Don't think you have to spend vast amounts of your money just to impress me. I can be very simple sometimes." Farkas looks to her dress, then looks back up to her eyes. Libby smiles and smacks his arm. "I promise. While I love delving in the heart of luxury, I'm just as likely to get my hands dirty as I am to raise a well-manicured hand."
Farkas chuckles as they two of them continue the walk into the Cloud District. Shops and stores come up left and right, large torches lining the cobblestone sidewalk. Guards nod their heads as they pass and Libby gives her best smile while Farkas returns the nod.
"They say that it's supposed to snow tonight." Farkas says, continuing conversation.
"I hope so. I hope more that it stays in time for Jolmus. It's not truly a holiday without snow, I feel." After a moment of walking in silence, she continues, "Will you at least tell me where we're going?" she asks.
"No." Farkas grins. "It's a surprise."
"Are you sure it's wise to surprise an assassin?"
"Only because I know you trust me." Farkas winks.
She would've smiled anyway, Libby tells herself as they continue walking. It really wasn't that much of problem as they reach the avenue holding the Deep Blue and a string of other expensive restaurants. But they didn't go to any of them. No, instead they walk past them and as Libby is about to ask where they were going for the third time, they turn a corner and her breath leaps out of her lungs as she beholds the building before her.
With its golden dome ceiling, a thin spire at its top bearing Whiterun's flag, the building is built in pale white stone, surrounded by intricately carved minarets with smaller buildings connecting to its sides. The theatre.
"What? Why are we –?" her words are cut off as Farkas continues to lead them inside. The bouncer standing outside immediately recognizes Farkas and nods his head, and lets them in without question.
Once inside, warmth immediately flushes her cheeks and she pulls back her hood, smoothing down her hair. A servant immediately takes her cloak and Libby gives her a thank you. She becomes aware of her back as the warmth tickles through the black lace, but she's too focused on the theatre's interior to care.
She hadn't set foot in the theatre of any kind since her parents had passed. She had unquestionably inherited their love of music; it was one of the reasons why she loved to play the pianoforte.
Her heart skips a beat when the thought occurs – Farkas had taken her here because he had heard her play. When she felt his weight on the bench beside her, it stopped her heart for a second, but afterwards, feeling his warmth beside her . . .
It surprised her at all how well her hands remembered how to play. She hadn't played since her father was killed. Occasionally, he would ask her to play for him as he poured over his documents in the Guild, or just to help him relax. She'd learned to play when she was ten – under her father's request that she find at least one refined skill – and had fallen in love immediately. After his passing, she never even went near a piano, forcing herself to be kept distracted with assignments and contracts.
This afternoon, after she had Farkas returned from their hunting trip, was the first time she had played in a long while. It's just with the sorrow for the princess, and the grief of those Khajiit, she needed another output besides slaughtering every Stormcloak that she saw. Music was her only release, the only way she can destroy herself and rebuild herself all at once. Her own way of feeling like she's home again while getting lost all at once.
Farkas' arm lowers, and Libby feels herself smile through her surprise and astonishment enough to feel his hand lace with hers. He leads her up a flight of carpeted stairs, and they are greeted by two servants as they approach a private box. They hand the two glasses of sparkling wine, and one of the Companions' acquaintances stops Farkas to say hello. Libby could tell Farkas didn't want to chat, but needing to uphold the Companions' reputation he asks Libby to head inside. Libby and strode through the crimson curtain and takes a seat closest to the stage.
As she sets her glass of wine on the armrest, she is still so stunned Farkas had managed to secure a seat. Their private box was on the side of the cavernous hall, near enough to the center so that she has an unobstructed view of the sage and the orchestra pit. She feels like she is ten years old again, sitting on her mother's knee as she watches the musicians prep their instruments and walk back and forth handing out the sheets of music.
She observes the floor below, taking in the glittering jewels, the silk dresses, the golden glow of the sparkling wine in flute glasses, the rumbling and murmuring of the crowd. If there was any other place where she felt most at home, if there was a place where she felt happiest, it is here, in this theatre, with the red velvet cushions and the glass chandeliers and the gilded dome ceiling high, high above.
Behind her she hears Farkas bid the acquaintance farewell and looks to her right as she descends the two steps and takes a seat next to her. He looks to her and smiles, almost smugly, and asks her, "So what do you think?"
"Well, you certainly blew away my expectations."
"What were they?"
"Um, you don't want to know." Libby coyly giggles.
Farkas doesn't take offense, he simply leans back in his chair and says, "Just wait, there's more."
"What –?"
Somewhere in the theatre, a gong sounds, and people hurry to their seats, quickly brushing kisses with each other and trying not to spill their glasses. The chandeliers are hauled upwards into the dome and dimmed, and the crowd quiets to hear the opening notes as the orchestra begins to play. A world of shadows and mist. A world where creatures and myths dwell in the dark movements before dawn.
Libby goes still as the gold curtain draws back, and at the center of the stage is a gorgeous and well-polished grand piano. Libby sets a hand on her chest as the player emerges from behind the curtains.
She is a lovely woman, set in her early thirties. She wears a lovely ice-blue dress that's off the shoulder with a large slit going up her right leg. She bows her head, her golden curls falling over her shoulder. A glittering headband pulling back her bangs.
The moment she sits down in the chair, the moment her foot sets on the petal, the moment her fingers set over the white keys, everything Libby knew and everything she was fades away to nothing.
The music annihilates her.
There are not dancers, not even actors. It's just the pianist and the orchestra. And the story it tells is certainly lovely. By the Divines – the music.
Has there ever been anything more beautiful, more exquisitely painful? Libby clenches the arms of her seat, her nails digging into the velvet. Her hear thundered with the pounding of the magnificent drum as the music hurtles towards its finale, sweeping her away in a flood.
With each beat of the drum, each trill of the flute, and blare of the horn, she feels it all along her skin, along her bones. The music breaks her apart and puts her back together, only to rend her asunder again and again. Her eyes never leave the piano player, watching her hands move along the keys, so fast, so light and so nimble . . . a skill Libby can only dream to attain.
And then the climax, the compilation of all the sounds she had loved best, amplified until they echo into eternity. As the final note swells, a gasp broke from her, setting the tears in her eyes spilling down her face. She doesn't care if Farkas saw.
Then, silence.
The silence was the worst thing she'd ever heard. The silence brings back everything around her. Applause erupts, and she is on her feet, crying still as she claps until her hands ache. She remains clapping even as Farkas stops and resumes sitting in his chair. The ovation continues for a while, with each section of the orchestra standing and bowing their heads, the pianist forever standing on stage, forever being showered with flowers. Libby claps through it all, even as her tears dried, even as the crowd began shuffling out.
If it weren't for the seat, Libby would've thrown every last coin to her if it meant she would play again.
Farkas doesn't abandon her, he merely sits in his seat patiently waiting, his eyes never leaving her face. But even after she finished clapping, Libby remained staring towards the curtained stage, watching the orchestra begin to pack their instruments. Farkas is still there, awake and watching.
They are the last ones to leave the theatre.
Words couldn't even begin to form in her mouth as she takes Farkas' hand as they left the theatre. She had at least managed to clean up her face and wipe away any smeared kohl. And she couldn't even form them, not when there was one last, unplanned, surprise for her as the bouncers opened the doors.
Libby thought she would cry again as snow gently falls from the skies.
The sky was bleak, the countless specks that rain down around her, each white flake highlighted against the black backdrop of the night, like a thousand falling stars in a dead sky.
It had only been falling for a short time as there were still small spikes of grass popping up from beneath the blanket of white. But there was still enough to cover the entirety of Whiterun. Libby didn't even care if her dress got soaked, she didn't care if the snow broke through her shoes. While she didn't like the cold, mostly due to those freezing nights in Cidhna Mines, she loved watching snow fall, she loved feeling it on her face, having it land in her hair, catching them on her tongue.
So she embraces the child inside of her and breaks away from Farkas to hurry a few steps ahead and begins to spin and twirl in the middle of the gently falling flurry. She smiles at the chill that runs through her black lace back. She spins and spins, the skirt of her gown blooming out around her in a circle of red. Her hood falls and her hair flutters in the wind.
She laughs and hops, skips and dances her way towards a gazebo already decorated with lights and carefully weaved strands of holly.
As she rotates, she stops when she sees Farkas leaning against one of the posts. He has his arms folded, simply smiling as he watches her. Libby looks to him, and despite her flushing cheeks, she continues to smile and giggle. "I – I don't even know what to say. I don't think words can even do me justice."
"I'm glad you had a wonderful time." he says as he mounts the steps and under the cover of the gazebo.
"Oh I had more than a wonderful time." Libby says as she hurries over and takes Farkas' hands. "I can't even tell you what this means to me. How – How did you even know about this pale? I thought it was beyond expensive and how did you even know about the performance tonight –?"
Farkas chuckles, his white teeth gleaming in the moonlight. "You might be Skyrim's Assassin, but once you know where to look, you're a fairly easy book to read." He steps closer to her, their breath mingling in plumes of white. "After watching you play, after seeing the emotion you put into your playing, the passion I – it's as if I saw you for the first time. I mean, I really saw you."
Libby takes a nervous half-step back, Farkas' grip keeping her hands in place.
"I just couldn't think of any better place for you. Of course, I guess this means I have to do even better next time."
Libby giggles and steps into his arms. She wraps her arms around his torso, and moments later, his arms are around her. She rests her cheeks against his warm chest, hearing his heart beating though his tunic. "I'm afraid that nothing can ever compare to this experience." She dares to lift her head and finds him staring down at her. His eyes almost matched the waters of the Sea of Ghosts. "And I mean nothing."
Farkas' eyes narrow and his hands grasp her arms. She leans slightly away, and still smiles to give him assurance.
"This has been, unreal, for me. I haven't set foot in a theatre of any kind since –" her throat clogs and she chokes on her words. She covers her mouth with her fingers. "And I mean, the music was ethereal, and just the pianist. No one has done such a thing for me in I don't know how long." She sighs as her eyes begin to water again. "Farkas I can't thank you enough. It almost feels like you've helped me find a piece of myself that has long since been missing."
Farkas' hand comes up and brushes away her tears. Thankfully most of her eyeliner had been washed away in the theatre. "Libby," The sound of her name on his lips is enough to make her skin heat. His thumb caressing small little circles into her flame-hot skin. "I don't know what it is about you, but . . . from the moment I set eyes on you, I knew you were special. To see those eyes – your eyes – to see them still fierce despite three years in hell, I've been walking towards this, walking towards you."
Libby's breath catches, and all she can think about is how soft Farkas' lips look despite the chilling cold. Farkas looks to her and gently twines her fingers with his before raising her hand to his lips. It is a soft, slow kiss that burns through her.
There is no controlling herself as she steps towards Farkas, lifts her chin and kisses him.
Just like the music, the kiss obliterates her all over again.
She feels every fiber of her being awaken at the sensation. Despite what anyone might think, she's never kissed anyone before. And as her lips meet his and he wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her closer against him, she honestly has no idea why she had waited. Farkas' mouth is warm and soft as she thought. His body is wondrously solid against hers, his chest beating with his heart as she rests her hands on it briefly, then extending her arms up to wrap around his neck.
Still, she remembers how to breathe, letting him guide her as he parts her lips with his own. When she feels his tongue brush against hers, she is so full of lightning she thinks she might die from the rush of it. She want more. She wants all of him.
She can't hold him tight enough, kiss him fast enough. A growl rumbles in the back of his throat, so full of need she feels it in her core. Lower than that, actually.
Gods, this is what it feels like. How is it she had gone so long without this feeling?
As Farkas pulls away, her breathing is heavy, sounding as if she had just finished one of her long before-dawn runs. Farkas presses their foreheads together, feeling lost. Lost in a world he had only seen in his dreams.
He pets her head as she rests is against his chest. He thought he had seen it all when he witnessed her playing at her home, but to see her reaction to the orchestra – there was something deeper that he never thought he'd see. The music did more than show her true side, he knew it had connected to something deep within – something she probably didn't even know about herself.
What first started as a teasing dip in the water, has now evolved into a willing plunge into the oblivion that is Libitania. He wanted to explore each plain, each crevice, and each nook until he has her memorized in every way. He never wanted to let her go, even in the cold. And when he feels the scars of her back that bump even under the seductive black lace, he wanted to personally destroy Cidhna Mine; rip it apart stone by stone so that she'd never have to go back.
When the two of them finally decide to leave the gazebo, Libby locks both her arms around Farkas' one as they make the walk back to her home. She rested her head against his shoulder, kissing his lips whenever she lifts her head. He follows her up to her double wood front doors, and even then he held her one hand while the other pulled it open.
She turns to him as it's slightly ajar and asks, "Did you want to come inside?"
It wasn't what he thought it was. Far from it, in fact. Though this night had been one of the best, he could see the innocence in her eyes. Her dress might've stated otherwise, but Farkas knew she had to be a virgin. As innocent as a fresh bloomed daisy in the spring.
And the way her eyes look, she isn't looking for that – nor is he. She just wanted his company. She didn't want to end the night and have them go their separate ways. And neither did Farkas.
"It's just – the temperature is going to keep dropping, I assume. And I don't want you to walk all the way back for nothing." Farkas smiles as she is babbling. Truthfully, he did want to come in. he wanted to feel her warmth there when he fell asleep, and be there still when he awoke. And he did wish to sleep on a proper mattress rather than a pile of pelts. Though tolerance it may build, it also built up his back pain.
Farkas smiles and takes stakes the two steps towards her and kisses her lips. That was all the assassin needed as she tugs him inside. While Vilkas might flog Farkas for not returning, it'll all be worth it if he can just stay with her for the night.
Their hands kept together as they mounted the steps, Libby still talking about the music as they came to her bedroom. It's there she asks her servants to bring Farkas some night clothes as well as a tray of sweets. She temporarily leaves him to bath and change as she does the same. Farkas simply washes his face and pulls back his hair before changing into the comfiest night clothes he has ever worn.
He comes back out to find Libby with her face makeup free, her hair pulled into a small braid and dressed in a long, but close-fitting nightgown. Her scarlet dress simply cast aside on an armchair. The two of them climb into the bed, Libby throwing the down comforter over Farkas and they two nestle down.
Nothing gets physical, though there is still delicate kisses on the lips. Instead, the two of them lay there, their bodies pressed together, telling the other stories of their lives; all while sharing the tray of sweets. While Libby does give vague details on certain topics, Farkas doesn't pry. He simply looks at her eyes, tucks her hair behind her hears, and getting himself lost in that glorious ring of gold.
The two of them keep talking until they begin to yawn, and then before either of them knew it, they were asleep. Sometime in the middle of the night, Libby had awoken to find Farkas still with her, solidifying that it wasn't just a dream. This creature, this beautiful, powerful creature could actually be hers.
While there is still doubt in her heart, the darkest parts of her whispering secrets in vain, as she traces Farkas' strong jawline, seeing his chest expand and contrast with every breath, Libby still keeps wishing she had found him sooner.
Diamond's breathing heaves as she swings her warhammer through the air, quickly spinning it around the other way when it strikes the dummy in front of her. Sweat runs down the side of her face, dripping off her chin. Though it might've snowed last night, she wasn't going to let that stop her from training. Her and Libby's trip to the Glenmoril Witches is two days away now, and with how Libby had reacted, she needed to be ready.
Thankfully by the time she had gotten up this morning, the backyard of Jorrvaskr had already been shoveled. So she threw on some thick clothing and started training. She had been training for over an hour now. And her techniques are nearly perfect, if she was judging herself fairly.
Unfortunately though, her mind was still somewhere else. Farkas hadn't come home last night after his evening with Libby, of which Vilkas ranted about soon after they had left. Libby looked illusory in that red dress she had on. Diamond would've thought of her as an expensive courtesan, but with how she had carried herself, it was more of royalty. Diamond couldn't even wrap her head around what kind of place Libby had gotten that dress from.
And Farkas, he looked better than he ever has been the entire time Diamond has been in the Companions. His tunic, his face, his hair, it was all so – handsome looking.
Diamond swings her hammer into the dummy, ducking and spinning so her foot kicked out her opponents imaginary ones. Spinning the hammer in her hands, she slowly prowls around the dummy as if waiting for it to attack.
She spins her hammer around her neck and into her left hand, and prepares a final strike when a voice breaks out behind her. "You're getting good."
Diamond freezes and lowers her arms as she turns around. There she finds Vilkas standing under the awning of the deck, arms folded and leaning against the wooden support. She heaves her breathing before responding. "Oh, is that a genuine compliment."
"Merely an observation." Vilkas shrugs.
Diamond can't help the sneer on her lips. She turns her head back forward and continues to dance around the dummy. A part of her still resented Vilkas for his behavior since the Warrior's Festival. She can't get that dance out of her head. Though she has already summarized that he might've bene drunk off his ass, the words he said still buzz through her mind.
She swings left, then whirls, her foot connecting with the head of the mannequin seconds after. The blow would've knocked a man unconscious. Her annoyance easily boils and she asks. "Are you here to tell me something or are you just going to stand there and gawk?"
"I do have some news for you." Vilkas says.
Diamond lowers her warhammer and turns to him. "Then out with it."
Vilkas pushes off of the post. "Kodlak wants everyone to meet in the hall by noon. Says he has an important announcement for everyone."
"In regards to what?" Diamond asks, slinging her warhammer over her shoulders, resting both her arms on the long handle.
"He wouldn't say," Vilkas shrugs. "Just that it involves Jarl Balgruuf."
That is enough to get Diamond to roll her eyes. Usually something involving Jarl Balgruuf meant standing guard at a party for six hours, or to be security for some weak-necked lords. Diamond would sooner swallow skeever dung than do that. Hell, she'll even hang out with Libby for the day if it meant getting out of guard duty.
"Has Libby contacted you lately?" Vilkas then asks.
Diamond looks to him as he descends the steps. "No, why would she?"
"Well it's just, you went to her home a couple of days ago and you both returned with frazzled hair. Though it didn't look like you were in much of a scuffle."
"Are you curious because you actually care?" Diamond spites. What is she going? She has not real reason to act like this. She shouldn't be feeding into her anger, that's how she got set up on her mission with Libby.
"What makes you think I don't care?"
"Because you haven't given two shits about me since I joined up with The Companions, and now you're suddenly so curious since Libby arrived." Diamond swings her hammer, and this time when it connects with the dummy's head, it cracks its wooden neck.
"I'm being cautious because Libby is an assassin, Diamond. You should be careful around her too."
"Oh believe me," Diamond coldly laughs. "I know just how deceiving she can be." Another hard swing, and this time, hearing it crack against the dummy made Vilkas cringe. "But it's not like you need to worry about me, okay? You haven't before."
"That's not true, I have."
"Oh, really?!" Diamond suddenly bursts. She whirls around to Vilkas, not even caring about how close he had gotten to her. Had she known, she could've just rammed her elbow back and she would've struck him straight in his forehead. "Well you certainly haven't been doing a good job at showing it! All you've ever done is treat me like I'm dirt beneath your feet! Even after being welcomed into the Circle, even after accepting the beastblood, you still treat me like a whelp!"
"It would be differently if you only acted like it Diamond!" Vilkas counters. "You might think you're the best, you might think you're a great fighter, but you are just nothing more than a child!"
At that moment, it was as if her anger has exploded. But instead of launching herself at him, instead of screaming to the heavens, Diamond only says. "Say that again."
Vilkas takes a step closer. "You are a child, Diamond. You are nothing more than a child. Matter of fact, you're a spoiled child! Thinking that just because Kodlak praises every little thing that you do, you're suddenly the best. But you're not."
"Oh! So this is about me stealing Kodlak's attention?" Diamond smiles cruelly and rather insanely. "Aww, does Vilkas feel abandoned because someone else became Kodlak's favorite? And I'm the child here?"
It has to be the cold. She's cold and hot and sweaty all at the same time. This isn't good why is she even bothering to say all of this?
"Yes, you are Diamond. And you are not Kodlak's favorite. You know what is it? He pity's you, Diamond. It's pity, because you come from a troubled past, where no one ever loved you. And now I can see why."
This is bad . . . this is –
"Who would ever love a child like you?"
Just like that, the world is swept out from under her. Like it has happened so many times before, she feels everything collapse inside herself.
And she can see him. That door in her mid that she keeps locked at all times has been cracked open by those sharp words. They cut her deep than any real blade, and now she's trying frantically to close that door.
The black ink, the blonde hair, those blue eyes that look like sapphires. Seeing his face, seeing him so near to her . . . the door is not shutting.
Diamond's hands start shaking, and the second her eyes start to water, she simply drops her warhammer and hurries up the steps inside.
She manages to catch a glimpse of Vilkas, and there is no triumph in his eyes. Merely regret. Good. He has crossed a line now.
Diamond hurries inside and down the steps to the living quarters, a sob escaping her lips.
The door is opening wider. His hair is darkened wish ash, shadows surround him. He coughs up ash, blood streaming from his nose – but his eyes, they are still so fierce
"No. No, no, please. Please!" she quietly whimpers as she makes her way towards Kodlak's living area, slamming and shutting the door behind her.
She still hears his bloodcurdling scream rattling inside her skull.
Diamond doesn't even make it to the bed before she slides to the floor in tears. Sobs – choked and loud and full of agony erupt out of her throat. Even when she clasps her hand over her mouth, they still hitch and fight their way out.
Malick.
The beautiful, stubborn, glorious assassin. One of the two brave souls that had helped her escape the cruelty that is Zusa Phoenix. His power, his strength, his will. His sacrifice.
Diamond bangs her head against the door, willing the images of him to go away. She curls her arms around herself in a self-embrace. Her chest heaves and tears drip off her chin. She wasn't successful in escaping Vilkas' cruel words.
Who would ever love a child like you?
He did. Oh, by the Divines he did. He had loved her more than anyone had ever lover her. He'd loved her enough to risk everything – to give up everything. He'd loved her so much that she still feels the echoes of it, even now.
Diamond manages to calm down enough that she pulls herself up off the floor and crawls into Kodlak's warm, welcoming bed.
Though she tries to distract herself, like trying to focus on how much her fist aches to bash Vilkas' teeth down his throat, the images of the once beautiful blue-eyed assassin still haunts her mind.