A/N: I'm sorry this chapter took so long to publish! It went through so many incarnations...I just couldn't decide how to handle it. I must have written and deleted thousands of words by the time I got this chapter the way I wanted it!
In all seriousness. The last paragraph alone took me forty-five minutes.
So...I hope my time was time well spent, and I hope you all enjoy it :)
It had been days since he'd seen her: seven days since she'd been slaving away over the Skyforge with Eorlund, working on a new set of armor and a blade; five days since she'd departed for High Hrothgar with Beirir, to speak to the Greybeards at last. When she finally returned, Siri looked quite worn out, and had retreated immediately to the Harbinger's quarters.
He had not missed the quiet footsteps that night, when his shield-siblings were all sound asleep. He had heard the patter of her small feet as she scurried through the Jorrvaskr living quarters, trying to slip out silently, without waking any of her fellow Companions. But he had been awake, and after a few minutes, followed her outside.
As he closed the doors of Jorrvaskr silently, he turned in an attempt to find out where the Dragonborn had gone. He remained still; finally his ears caught a sound.
Our hero, our hero, claims a warrior's heart.
He sidled between the building and a column, trying to remain out of sight, lest he should disturb the tranquil night.
I tell you, I tell you, the Dragonborn comes.
Peering around, he saw her.
With a Voice wielding power of the ancient Nord art.
She sat by the Skyforge, singing quietly to the night, playing with the amulet around her neck.
Believe, believe, the Dragonborn comes.
He ventured slowly up the stairs, listening to her sweet voice carry the oft-sung bar melody. When he reached the top of the stairs, her singing stopped abruptly, though she remained seated and continued to gaze out over the plains of Whiterun.
"Hello, Vilkas," she said.
"Trouble sleeping, eh?" he asked.
"Yeah," she said with a small laugh. She turned her head slightly, and he caught her profile in the soft light of the moons. "I'm sorry if I woke you. I suppose I should leave the sneaking to my brother."
Vilkas shrugged. "So…how was your trip up to High Hrothgar?" he asked. "The Greybeards…"
"They formally recognized me as the Dragonborn," she said. "It's so strange…I remember the tales of the Dragonborns of old from my childhood. I remember thinking how the Dragonborn was this…incredible hero. But I'm not that hero, Vilkas." She hunched forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "And it's terrifying to think that the world expects such great things of me. They think I'll end the civil war, reunify Tamriel…" she stood up and walked toward the forge, its radiant heat warming her. "I am supposed to kill Alduin, the World-Eater. I have never been so terrified…so confused."
Vilkas walked over, standing next to her.
"They want me to save the world," she said softly, crossing her arms. "But I don't know if I can."
Vilkas laid a hand on her shoulder and pulled her to face him. He could see that she was wearing an Amulet of Mara; the pendent was resting just above her heart, the gems sparkling in the moonlight.
"If anyone can do it, it's you," he said simply. His eyes lingered on the amulet for a moment before meeting her eyes. "And I'm certain you won't have to do it all alone, either. Especially if you're wearing that Amulet of Mara," he said with a chuckle. "You'll probably be fighting the men off left and right—I bet they'd be falling over themselves for a chance to help you, to win your affections."
Siri looked up at him.
"And what about you?" she asked, sounding bolder than she felt. Her heart fluttered in her chest as she waited for him to answer.
Vilkas's eyes, usually so brooding and stoic, became soft and glassy. He moved his hand to her cheek, tracing the delicate line of her cheekbone with his thumb.
"I…" he spoke, his voice low, resolute. "I would follow you to Oblivion and back. I would take on the World-Eater himself for you." He leaned forward until their noses were less than an inch apart. "I would stand by your side, until the Divines would take us to Sovngarde."
This time it was Vilkas who closed the gap; he could feel his heart racing as their lips touched. His broad hands rested on her waist, and he pulled her gently toward him; she, in turn, leaned forward on tiptoe, losing herself in the moment.
When they finally separated, Vilkas wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. Gently he took her hand, holding it to his chest. Siri could feel his heart beating steadily. She rested her head on his chest, leaning into him.
"You were my saving grace, Dragonborn," he murmured. "And my heart will beat for you forevermore. If you will have me, I promise that you will never have to face the world alone."