"Very good work, Silverworthy," Pantea said as Cry picked up her book from the table she'd been sitting at.
Cry glanced up, and met the Master Vocalist's gaze. She smiled. "Thank you, Master Ateia," she replied. "I've been practicing."
"It's noticeable," Pantea said. "You actually show some promise, and I don't say that to everyone."
"No, I know," Cry told her. She glanced down at her book, and Pantea tilted her head.
"Something's on your mind," she said, and Cry looked up again.
"No, not really. Just thinking about my lesson later with Inge."
Pantea didn't look convinced. After staring at her for a moment, she settled down on a bench, and patted the spot beside her.
"Sit," she invited, "and talk to me." Cry hesitated a moment, and then she exhaled a breath and sat. Pantea crossed her legs, and looked at her. "What is it, young one?"
"Plenty of things," Cry sighed, quietly. "You know, just… something I need to be doing and I'm not, and someone I should talk to, but I won't… it's difficult, ma'am."
Pantea nodded wisely. "Life is difficult," she agreed. "Plenty of songs have been written as such. But through these difficulties is where bards learn to perform with passion. They express their feelings through their art, whether it be singing or playing or even speaking written poetry. The best place for you to be while you are dealing with certain difficulties is here, I promise you."
Cry smiled slightly, and dipped her head. "I think you're right," she said, "although, at some point, I'm going to need to face my difficulties."
"Of course," Pantea replied. "We'll all have to face our difficulties at some point. But if you'd like to escape them for a time, the Bards College is a good place to do it." She gave Cry's knee a pat, and stood. "Should I tell Inge you might have to move your lesson to tomorrow?"
"I can still go," Cry said, but after seeing the look on Pantea's face, her shoulders slumped. "Maybe I should wait until tomorrow."
Pantea smiled at her. "I'll let her know," she said, and she turned to go.
"Master," Cry said, and Pantea paused, glancing over her shoulder. "Thank you."
Pantea merely smiled at her. "Think about your difficulties, Cry Silverworthy," she invited. "Someday, they may make great pieces of music."
With that, she turned and left the room, leaving Cry alone with her thoughts.
She gazed down at her book, running her fingers over the top of it. She had been at the Bards College for a couple weeks, after she'd managed to complete the task that the headmaster had sent her on. She thought it was odd, an aspiring bard being sent on a excavation into a Nordic ruin, but it was something she knew best, and so she was glad to do it. And now, she was a member of the college, and taking vocal and lute lessons from the best in Skyrim.
All the same, she didn't know if she could call herself happy. She knew that she was only wasting time at the college. In all respects, she should have gone to Markarth, where Delphine and Esbern were expecting her. She could have gone to High Hrothgar, to learn more about her Thu'um and what it meant. She could have gone somewhere that furthered her destiny of taking care of Skyrim's dragon problem, and yet she hadn't.
It didn't make it any better that she was missing the Companions desperately. A letter from Farkas had found her in her second week in Solitude, but she had yet to respond to it, not knowing what there was to say. Hello, Farkas, I'm miserable, I'm still holding off on my destiny, and I am, in fact, desperately in love with your twin brother, and it's only getting worse with each passing day, when I'd thought it would have gone away by now.
Cry was not happy, not in the slightest. She missed her Companions, she missed Farkas and Aela, and she really, really missed Vilkas.
And she wasn't even close to being able to return to them.
Cry groaned, quietly, and rested her head in her lap. She really needed to get her priorities straight. How was it that she could condone wasting almost a month in Solitude learning how to craft a song and play it on a lute while singing it, too, but she couldn't have risked staying at Jorrvaskr for any longer? She knew what it was she had to do, and she knew that if she managed to accomplish it without dying, she could go home to them.
So why was it that she wasn't doing what she needed to do? Was it because she was afraid of dying, which she knew was a very high possibility? Or was it simply because she was afraid of what had already happened, of being in love, and being able to do something about it? If that was the case, she had bigger troubles than some world eating dragon.
"Cry?"
Her head shot up as someone said her name, and she found Jorn standing in the doorway of the room. He looked confused.
"What are you doing in here?" he asked her, and Cry shook her head quickly, standing up.
"Nothing. I was just thinking," she said.
"Oh," Jorn replied, and Cry started to move past him out of the room. "You have a visitor."
Cry stopped dead. She turned around to face him, clutching her book to her chest. "I do?" she asked, voice soft, and Jorn nodded.
"Sent 'em up to your room, and told 'em I'd come find you," he said, and then he walked away from her.
Cry remained where she was for a moment, feeling only the tiniest bit of panic. There were a number of people who the guest could be, and there were a number of people that she wouldn't mind it being. There was really only one person she didn't want it to be, and she had a feeling that the universe wouldn't be so unkind to her.
She swallowed, screwed up her courage, and headed upstairs to her room.
When she'd reached the closed door, she took a moment to steady her breathing. There was no way of knowing who it was by standing outside. She could not prepare what to say before going inside. What exactly was she supposed to do, then? Hope for the best, and expect the worst?
She supposed so.
Exhaling, she reached out with one hand, and pushed the door open. As she did so, the person standing inside her room shifted, but did not turn around to look at her. Even when the door hit the wall, they continued to gaze out the small window against the back wall.
"You have an all right view," Vilkas finally said.
"I think so," Cry replied, setting her book down on the table near the door before closing it. When she turned around again, she saw Vilkas had done the same, and that he now faced her. He offered her a small smile.
"Surprised it's me?" he asked, and Cry let out a laugh.
"I actually wish I could say I was," she said, and then she shook her head. "How'd you figure out where I was?"
"Farkas paid the courier extra," Vilkas said, and Cry's shoulders fell.
"Right."
"I thought you were leaving us to do something about the dragon problem," Vilkas commented, moving away from the window.
Cry waved her hand. "I sort of am. The Bards College has an excellent archive. I've been doing some research on history involving dragons," she explained.
"I see." Vilkas paused a few steps away from her. "I could have helped you with that, you know. History's one of the few things I know quite a bit about."
"Yes, well…" Cry breathed out shakily, cursing the breath for betraying her. "It's like I said: I had to get away."
"Why is that?" Vilkas asked, and she blinked at him.
"Hm?"
"I mean… we weren't… causing you any problems, were we?" he queried.
Cry quickly shook her head. "No, of course not!" she said. "It was more of a personal decision. I was being… I was using the Companions as a sort of distraction, a reason not to go and deal with the dragons. It was time I stopped doing that, and actually… dealt with my destiny."
"Your destiny." Vilkas repeated what she had said, softly, mostly to himself. Cry watched his face, but there was no visible change of expression as he seemed to think to himself for a moment. Eventually, however, he glanced up again, and met her eyes. "Farkas said that you left because of me."
"Of course he did," Cry said, mostly to herself, this time, and then she exhaled. "Vilkas, I should confess that I did leave partially because of you, but not because of anything you did, I promise."
"No, I know," Vilkas replied. "Farkas said it's because you're in love with me, despite you telling me, vehemently, I might add, that you couldn't be." Cry gnawed on the inside of her lip, and Vilkas glanced downwards. "I see."
"Is that a good thing?" she asked, and he let out a quiet chuckle, before shrugging.
"Do you want it to be?"
"Vilkas…"
"Because… it seems to me that you leaving because you love me means that you don't want to love me," he said, "in which case I'll need to apologize, because I am madly in love with you. I don't think there's anything I can do about it either, which, I think, is something I've already made rather clear."
Cry blinked at him. "Vilkas," she said again, and he stepped closer to her, close enough that he could cup her cheek in his hand.
"I love you, Cry," he said, softly, "Dragonborn or not, and the last thing I plan on doing is allowing you to continue in your journey alone."
Cry quickly leaned up and kissed him with fire, wrapping her arms around his neck. She let out a small noise when Vilkas's hands moved down her back. He turned and pressed her against the wall, holding her there with his body and hands, as he hungrily kissed her back.
They separated for a brief moment to collect their breath, and they met gazes. Vilkas's eyes were glittering, and Cry could only imagine what it was she herself looked like after that. After a moment, they both let out soft laughs, and then Cry hugged him, tightly.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"For what?" Vilkas responded, passing his fingers through her hair, which was hanging loose, for once.
"Everything, I guess," Cry said, pulling out of the hug. She met his eyes. "I mean… I sort of used the Companions as a reason to not… do what I'm supposed to be doing. And it's because of you that I even considered it as an option." She shook her head. "I'm really sorry."
"You have nothing to apologize for," Vilkas murmured, placing a hand on her cheek again. "You got caught up in it."
"No, I… I actively ignored letters that I received from the people that are helping me with the dragon problem, because I decided that it was easier to run the Companions," Cry said, softly. "I've been putting it off for weeks, and even when I left, I continued to put it off, which means I really left for no reason."
"So come back," Vilkas insisted. He backed away, but held her hands in his, squeezing them. "I can help you with the dragons. I'll go with you wherever it is you need to go to deal with them. I'll… I want to be with you, Cry. Please, don't tell me that I can't be, because I don't want to argue with you."
Cry stared at him for a moment, and then she sighed and glanced downwards. "Vilkas -"
"I asked you not to do this," Vilkas interrupted, and Cry let out a laugh.
"I'm sorry," she said, meeting his eyes again, "but it's too dangerous."
"All the more reason to let me come with you," Vilkas insisted. He pulled her closer, and tilted her face upwards with his thumb under her chin. "I believe you to be the love of my life," he went on, quietly. "If you think I'm going to let you go easily, you're very wrong."
"No, I wasn't thinking that," Cry told him, "and… I love you, too, but this… I can't drag you into this, Vilkas. The dragons are my problem. I don't want to risk you."
Vilkas smiled at her. "Then why would you think I'd let you go into a risky scenario on your own?" he asked. Cry gazed helplessly up at him, and Vilkas kissed her again, softly this time. When he pulled back, he stroked her cheek with his thumb, looking at her. "I'm going with you, whether you agree with it or not. I won't let you get away from me, not again."
"Well… you didn't really let me get away from you," Cry said after a moment, and Vilkas tilted his head, frowning. "You're here, aren't you?"
Vilkas chuckled. "I am. But I let you leave, which is a negative. I shouldn't have done that." He glanced around her room. "Although, I don't mind that you came here. Learning to be a bard is admirable."
"I think I'm doing rather well, too," Cry replied. She moved away from him, and went to pick up her lute. She retrieved it from where it was resting on the table. She turned around to face Vilkas again. "Would you like to hear something?"
"I would," Vilkas said, settling down on the edge of her bed.
Cry thought about it for a moment, and then she smiled to herself, and began to play. No words, no singing, just the sound of the lute, which was amplified in the small space of her room. Vilkas watched her the entire time, a strange look on his face.
Cry let the music flow through her, into her fingers, and onto her lute's strings. It was a sweet song, but also a sad song, one that she had come to know through reading, and also experience. She had a feeling that Vilkas knew what it meant, even without there being any words, just by the look in his eyes.
When the final note had been played, and Cry had lowered her lute, he spoke: "That was about Kodlak, wasn't it? Or… just all the brave warriors that had died that you know."
"And the ones that I don't," Cry agreed, putting her lute down on the table again. She walked over to the bed and sat down next to him. "It's really about anyone who's been lost." She glanced at him. "You've experienced that."
Vilkas nodded. "First with my father, and then with many other Companions, including Skjor and Kodlak." He glanced sideways at her. "It couldn't have just been their deaths that inspired that."
Cry offered him a sad smile. "No," she said, softly, "they didn't. It was… well, it came together from quite a lot of experiences, but I can't take credit for having written it." She let out a chuckle. "I think a sad bard crafted it after the death of his lover."
"Ah," Vilkas said.
"His same-sex lover."
"Ah." Vilkas reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. "It was beautiful." He glanced sideways at her. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't hoping that you would sing for me."
Cry exhaled a breath. "Plenty of time for that," she said, and then she stood, and went to the window. "I need to go to Markarth," she began after a moment, and she glanced back at him to gather his reaction.
Vilkas merely stood. "All right," he said. "How soon can we leave?"
"Really? Just like that?" Cry asked him, and Vilkas shrugged his shoulders.
"I said I was going to go with you."
"You did," Cry admitted, and then she exhaled, slowly. "I'll just let everyone know that I'm going, and we can head out tomorrow morning."
Vilkas nodded in agreement. "I'll meet you at the inn at dawn." He started to walk past her, towards the door, but she stopped him by grabbing his arm. Vilkas glanced at her, blinking, and Cry hesitated a moment.
"Stay," she finally said, and Vilkas's expression changed.
"I already paid for a room," he said, softly.
"Then I'll come with you."
He let out a laugh, and Cry grinned as well, before putting her hand on the back of his neck and kissing him deeply. She would definitely be lying if she said she wasn't glad that he had come after her.
"Y'know," she said later on, as they were preparing for bed, "I'm the Dragonborn."
"I think we've established that," Vilkas said, laughter in his voice.
"There's some things that come with traveling with the Dragonborn," Cry continued, and Vilkas raised his eyebrow.
"Oh?"
"Yep," Cry said. "So, I took the liberty of getting you a few things."
"Oh, you got me presents?" Vilkas asked, and Cry tilted her head back and forth.
"You could call them presents, sure," she said, and then she produced a package wrapped in brown parchment. "Here."
Vilkas took it from her, and set it down on the bed in the room he'd rented at the Winking Skeever. He unwrapped it, and Cry saw his shoulders fall as he saw what was inside it. After a moment, he turned around to face her, holding up what she had gotten him.
"What's this?" he asked.
"Something for you to wear when we're waiting around in a city," she said, and she gestured to his armor. "You can't possibly be comfortable, walking around in that all the time."
"It's what I always wear," Vilkas said, and he gave the tunic and breeches she had bought him a look. "These are very nice, but I don't see myself wearing them."
Cry shrugged. "You might. They're just another option, that's all."
Vilkas sighed to himself. "It's just a hassle, having to change out of my armor," he explained.
"Yes, well, maybe you'll feel the need sometime," Cry said, and Vilkas offered her a placating smile.
"Sure," he said.
Cry crossed the room as he turned around to slip the clothing into his bag. She wrapped her arms around his waist, and Vilkas chuckled, turning around to face her. His own arms went around her, and he tilted her face upwards by pressing his forehead against hers.
"Hi," she greeted, quietly, and he grinned.
"Hi."
"Thank you," she said, "for coming to find me."
Vilkas pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I already told you, you are the one I was meant to find," he said.
"And you still think that?"
"Of course." He grinned at her. "And I think you were supposed to find me."
She wrapped her arms around his neck instead, gazing up at him. "I think so, too," she admitted, and then she leaned up on her toes to kiss him.
And that feeling of being capable of doing anything was revitalized inside of her, because she knew she was telling the truth. Whatever else her destiny entailed, Vilkas was definitely part of it.
And that's Part 2. Part 3'll start being posted within the next few days, after I've edited her. See you then.
