Thank you so much for the response to the first chapter! I appreciate all of the reviews, favorites, and follows. I'm hoping for weekly updates to this story going forward, but as I am starting a new job in the real world, it may cause some interruptions to that schedule. Thank you in advance for your understanding.
The next morning, Vilkas woke to the familiar headache of too much drink. Wincing slightly, he eased his way out of bed, untangling himself from the furs, all from animals he had killed himself. He eased himself slowly into his wolf armor, telling himself his slightly sore muscles were also left over from the drink the night before and not at all from the thrashing the new whelp had given him the day before. He really needed to start training again.
Shaking thoughts of her from his head, he decided a bowl of hot soup may do him some good, and it had been a while since he'd been down to The Bannered Mare for gossip. Jorrvaskr's particular flavor grew sour after a while and the walls began to close in on him. Cabin fever, a traveler had once called it.
Running a hand through his hair, he stalked down the halls and passed sweet Tilma on the way, who was preoccupied replacing out rotten produce with new, likely from Carlotta's stall. Tilma always managed to sweet talk the best from her.
No matter how many Companions came to their hall, the sounds from the tables were always the same, a familiar cacophony of veiled threats over the last crème treat, embellished tales of death, and the sounds of family. The only family him and Farkas had ever known. Would ever know.
As he topped the stairs, he spotted his brother standing near the doors of the hall, clearly waiting for something. Since his brother was scarcely awake before the sun reached peak, he wondered at the reason. Grabbing a green apple from a nearby end table, he tossed it up and down carelessly as he walked toward his twin, "Farkas."
Farkas turned to face him, "Yeah?"
Vilkas sat on one of the benches, sprawling out comfortably, "Waiting for something?"
Farkas nodded briskly, "Kodlak had me offer the new girl a contract to test her skills."
"He did?" Vilkas raised a brow. "Where did he send her?"
"The only contract I had ready was the Shimmermist Cave problem. Some locals were reported to be going missing. Kodlak had wanted me to sort it out, but told me yesterday to offer it to her instead," Farkas shrugged.
"Shimmermist? That's quite the problem to test a whelp with," he remarked casually. Once again, he found himself internally wondering what Kodlak could possibly be thinking. He was going to get her killed. Not that he cared. But then Farkas would just have to fix the problem anyway.
Aela came to join them, leaning on the wooden post on the stairs, "She has a fire, that one. She'll do just fine."
"You sound quite confident about someone you've only just met," Vilkas pointed out.
Aela smirked, her war paint cracking around her eyes, "You're just worried she's going to show you up. I would be too, if I'd been beaten like that in the yard."
Vilkas scoffed, "Beaten? She hit me three times, Aela, and barely that. It would figure you would have trouble with the definition. How long has it been since you've beaten anyone?"
"Don't try to deflect now. Where were you yesterday when Farkas, Ria, and I were taking down the giant attacking the Pelagia farm? Discussing our futures with Kodlak, as if you have any right?" Aela's voice was taking on a soft growl, her eyes turning slightly yellow as she allowed the beast to show. A display that started to trigger Vilkas' own, which she likely knew, the sneaky bitch. Reminding him subtly of the beast still beneath his skin. Damn her to Oblivion.
"Mind your business, Aela. Who I talk to and what I talk to them about is of no concern to you."
She snorted and turned to walk away, saying softly, "It better not be."
He shook his head, hoping Aela wouldn't make his headache worse. Farkas looked at him curiously, "Are you feeling-"
"I'm fine," Vilkas snapped. "Just too much to drink last night. I'm headed to the Bannered Mare."
Farkas nodded, dismissing the issue, but Vilkas knew it wasn't over. His brother knew more than he let on despite his mind being less...well read than the others, He was especially attuned to Vilkas, much to his ire. He stood, suppressing a groan as his joints cracked, and opened the doors to Whiterun. The burnt Gildergreen stood just below the steps, still trying to keep watch over the lower half of the city despite its damaged condition. He tossed the idea of offering his help to the priestess in order to fix the tree, if even such a thing were possible, but finally shrugged it off as he passed it. There couldn't be enough action involved to suit the Companions anyway, and they certainly weren't healers.
As he passed through the small market in the business district, the other townsfolk gave him a wide berth. He knew it was supposed to be a show of respect, and a bit of fear, but he couldn't help feeling as if he were an outsider to the life of Whiterun, despite living in the city for most of his life. He ignored them all as he opened the left door of the inn and walked inside.
The lights were much dimmer inside, though his eyes adjusted quickly. The inn smelled of food, drink, and too many bodies, making him regret coming here for a moment when he could have the same things back home. Conversation stuttered for a moment, the bard even pausing his song, before picking up again with more enthusiasm and whispering than before. Sighing silently, he took a seat at the bar, sitting with such force that the plates on the bar rattled.
"What can I get for you?" Hulda asked, coming over immediately, the only one seemingly unaffected by him being in her inn. True to nature, Hulda was a superb innkeeper, making sure all guests, renting rooms or not, were taken care of.
"Got anything fresh? The hotter, the better."
Hulda smiled, "Saadia just finished a pot of horker stew. How's about it and a couple of bottles of mead? We just got a fresh barrel of Honningbrew in."
"Yes to the stew, but if Honningbrew still has that skeever problem Torvar's been spreading about, I'll pass."
She nodded, "Horker stew and two bottles of house made mead, coming right up."
He snorted. Maybe he should see about-nah. A few skeevers wouldn't be worth his time. Besides, Sabjorn could be a right ass and must be worse than normal with rumors of Sabjorn trying to get Commander Caius in for a tasting to dispel the skeever talk.
He picked at his fingernails, feeling the eyes of the other patrons digging into the back of his armor. He had grabbed a spare sword from his quarters before leaving, but missed the familiar weight of his own sword. He would have to remember to pick it up from Eorlund later.
Hulda came back around her side of the bar, placing a steaming bowl of horker stew in front of him with two sweating bottles of chilled mead on either side. He counted and handed over the septims before digging in. After re-counting them and slipping them into her coin purse silently, she continued wiping dishes clean. Around mouthfuls of stew, (who knew those ugly beasts could taste so good?), he asked, "Any news around the city?"
"That visitor, the young Nord who word says has been up in Jorrvaskr, has been making quite the name for herself," Hulda set down the wooden plate she'd been drying and nodded toward the bard, her voice turning to a whisper. "Mikael's been pestering Carlotta almost non-stop for a fortnight. That girl tried reasoning with him. When that didn't work, she knocked the sense right into him. Serves him, I say. I let him play day and night, but if he started driving patrons away, he'd have to go."
Vilkas set his spoon down and grabbed one of the drinks, "Honorable as it is, that doesn't sound like enough to make a name."
"You know as well as anyone in this town how word gets around," Hulda continued slyly. "But no, that's not all. She also took on Uthgerd, after she had a few too many and got too brash for her boots. That pretty young scrap knocked her down a peg, and then had the guts to ask Uthgerd to follow her on her travels. Of course Uthgerd said yes."
Vilkas shook his head, "Bringing up Uthgerd doesn't exactly give the best impression, Hulda."
"Fine," she snapped, set her elbows upon the bar and stared right into his face. "Gerda up at Dragonsreach tells me she was at Helgen when it was attacked by a dragon and took it upon herself to tell the Jarl to send guard to Riverwood and then aided the watchtower in defeating another dragon. Then, some of the guards who stopped in said she absorbed some kind of power from it, like she's a dragonborn. Jarl Balgruuf even made her Thane! And that's after she agreed to help Danica with the Gildergreen, Amren with that sword he and Saffir were yelling about, old Fralia with her troubles, and a bounty the Jarl put out on that bandit camp to the north. It's thought that's where she ran off to with Uthgerd, or even one of the other places. She even talked to Brenuin and little Lucia before she left, like they mattered, giving them coins when everyone else walked past."
Hulda gave her words some time to settle in, before removing Vilkas' empty bowl from beneath his shock-still face.
"That is why she's making a name for herself, Vilkas. Not because she's out for glory and wealth under a banner of honor. Whether or not she's looking for those, she's earning them by doing things that matter to the people around here. Even if she never makes it as a Companion, never completes whatever little quest you warriors have sent her on to prove herself, she'll always be respected in Whiterun. Even long after she's left."
Thank you for reading! If you have the time or inclination, please review before clicking away and be sure to check back in about a week for the next chapter!