For several days after Eliana had left on her latest quest, Vilkas was up with the sun, beating training dummies in the yard into such pieces Eorlund was struggling to keep up with the damage. On Morndas, the 18th day of Morning Star, Vilkas was once again swinging his sword to the great destruction of the straw-filled, wooden man, avoiding the dreams, nightmares, and fantasies all centered on one young woman. Even while fervently denying having had those thoughts. It was an exhausting cycle.
The air of the morning was flecked with light flakes of snow from a storm that had passed through the night, leaving an icy breath across the land, despite the ground being so warm in these parts the snow that fell rarely stayed for long. The sun was shining brightly, not a cloud to be found, leaving folks able to see clear into the distance. The sounds of the children shrieking while likely playing one of their games floated up from near the stairs to the market, almost indecipherable over the rhythmic clang of metal on wood, creating a blank canvas of sound to bear his thoughts onto.
Admitting it was an impossibility, a vulnerability he couldn't afford, but it was simply more and more challenging to invent excuses as to his odd behavior. Unburdened of responsibility and image, he may have been able to admit the starts of feelings more than...companionship toward her. It always had been. For such a private man, it was unsettling.
All of that secret turmoil ignored their bigger problems. Rationalizing how unnecessary his emotions were did nothing to quiet his thoughts on the matter, having quite the paradoxical effect, bringing her even further to the forefront of his consciousness. The Circle needed him now more than ever. They were all still curses, though some of them remained unwilling to yield to it being such. Aela had even once proposed in whispers to Skjor excitedly about giving the younger woman the blood.
Vilkas had snarled so loudly in response from across the hall, he feared the villagers had heard him as far as Kynesgrove. Aela, as per usual, had been the only one present seemingly unaffected by his display, even finding it amusing. Damn her.
He wouldn't see Eliana tainted like that, her soul permanently damned to Hircine. She may be morally gray, if reports of her association with the Thieves Guild and Dark Brotherhood held any weight to them, but to give her mortal soul to a daedric prince…And he certainly wouldn't hand her over on a silver platter to that beast. He lov-
Vilkas' eyes flew open, muscles seizing as he went stiff with shock and revulsion. Gods, no. No! He-he couldn't.
Even as his thoughts chased their tails, his eyes hardened with an identical fierceness to the preparation of battle. He couldn't. And more than that, he wouldn't.
As he shook out his legs from that shock, got his blood pumping again, he saw from the corner of his eye Kodlak enter the yard, heavy door slamming shut behind him, caught on a winter wind. The bright sunshine made his silver hair appear white and sharpened the scars and creases on his aged face. He tipped his face up to the sky, smiling slightly at the warmth on his cheeks before facing Vilkas again.
"A bit cold today, but beautiful nonetheless, wouldn't you say?"
Vilkas eyed him warily, having known Kodlak for too long to believe he had left the hall for the simple joys of checking on the weather, "What did you need?"
Sighing heavily, he moved closer to the younger man, looking over the dummy that was barely still recognizable, "The others are becoming a bit...concerned about you."
He raised a brow, "I can't imagine why."
Kodlak just gave him that look, the one that was more disappointment than disapproval. Vilkas hated how effective it was as he looked down at his boots, "You know why. You've been unusually tense for weeks. Months. And it's only getting worse."
"I'm fine."
"No," Kodlak said softly. "You're not. And the beast feels it too."
He could swear his heart skipped a beat, "If I could stop the beast from feeling anything, you know I would."
"I know, but sometimes we cannot control how we feel. Rather, we can distract ourselves, make our hands so busy that our minds can focus on nothing else."
Vilkas sheathed his sword carefully along his spine, speaking with a little snark, "Did you have any suggestions?"
"Yes. I would like you to take Ria hunting," Kodlak said. "The girl has been getting more and more vocal about wanting to explore more than Whiterun Hold, but no Companion should go on their own. Because she's most your charge, I am entrusting you to take her out and watch her. Step in to correct her when necessary. I dare say you're less likely to tear her apart than any of the others, and she still needs some instruction, capable as she may be."
"Hmm," Vilkas grunted, crossing his arms. "And when would you expect us to leave?"
Kodlak glanced over the walls, unable to see the lands below, but able to imagine, "For winter, the skies seem amiable enough. Perhaps today, if you can get gathered before midday."
He nodded sharply, "Alright then. When would you expect us back?"
Silence fell between them. Vilkas was no fool and knew Kodlak wasn't either. The old man always knew more than he let on, and had likely guessed as the reason for his dicey mood as of late.
"Don't come back until you've found yourself again, Vilkas, whoever you may be. There is more to you than just being a Companion, being a warrior. You won't be the best of either of those things until you can put all of those pieces together."
Suddenly irritated, he bared his teeth slightly, "You presume much."
"Aye," Kodlak smiled. "But everyone, even people seemingly as straightforward as Farkas, have pieces they bury. You've been running from yours for a long time, since you were a child."
"And bringing all of this up now is supposed to help?" he growled.
"You're afraid of being weak. I expect you need to discover just how strong you are without your sword."
Leaving Vilkas standing in confusion, he turned and walked back into the hall. It would still be a while before anyone else was up early enough to bother him, so he sat on one of the wooden benches and picked at a loose board on the table, lost in thoughts of a different color.
"Ria!" Vilkas barked, interrupting the conversation between her, Athis, and Torvar.
They all looked at him, though Ria was the only one who smiled, "Yes? More footwork today?"
"No."
Ria tilted her head to the side curiously, a bit pup-like as Torvar and Athis exchanged a look. He ran a hand through dirty hair, "Gather anything you think you may need for several days, at least. We leave the hall in an hour."
She grinned, jumping up from the table with zeal, but thankfully suppressed her typical piercing squeal. She nearly knocked Brill off his feet in her hurry to get past him and down the stairs.
"What prompted that, Vilk?" Torvar asked, voice not yet slurred.
He decided honesty would dispel more rumors, "Kodlak wanted me to take Ria out hunting. Said she's been getting loud about leaving."
Athis snorted, "That's one way to say it. Been down right damned irritating."
"Well, she'll be out of your way for a few days at least. I suggest you train while she's gone, or she may join Njada when she returns," he replied with a laugh before heading to the stairs himself.
Though voices came out of several of the rooms, there was not a soul in the halls as he headed to his rooms in order to pack, snatching an apple off of the long table as he passed. He took a large bite of crisp flesh, a bit of juice running into his whiskers, slightly longer than he normally kept it trimmed, close to his flesh. As he entered his rooms, he tossed the core into a bucket near one of his dressers. He reached to the top of the shelves nearest his bed, grabbing down a satchel barely used these days. He began putting items into it, stuffing it with more than he thought he would need, just in case it took longer to "find himself" than he felt entirely comfortable.
As he was wrapping some tunics in a bear fur, Aela poked her head inside. Without looking up from his task, Vilkas sighed, "Blast woman. What now?"
Aela merely raised a brow, leaning against his door frame in that way she made an art, "Ria is telling anyone who will listen about your little journey. Says it's to be training."
Vilkas grunted, not bothering to answer her in acknowledgment or denial. If she had questions, she could either ask or find Kodlak. He shoved a couple bottles of ale from his bedside table into the seemingly bottomless pack.
"Tired of waiting around for her?"
Vilkas quickly choked down the biting remarks climbing up his throat to the tip of his tongue, schooling his features smooth through great effort. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction. If it was a fight she wanted, she could find Njada. After he filled the bag, he set it near the doors, just under Aela's feet, and set about straightening up the room as best he could. Less for Tilma to do while he was away.
"I hope you find some sense while you're out there, Vilkas. You know how Kodlak feels about...inter-guild relations."
Vilkas was organizing his many books back onto their proper shelves, glancing at the titles as he replied, "Yes, but I'm not sure you should be quite so confident in your assessment."
She almost snickered. The sound caught in her mouth, like a swarm of bees, a sound she seemed unused to making, "You truly love her, don't you? Oh, you poor, damned fool."
"Save your pity, Aela," he said as he turned to grab his pack off the floor, hoisting it over his shoulder. "I don't love anyone. At least, not in the way you're implying. Now, if you're finished..."
Aela stepped back a bit, enough to allow him to press by her. Her eyes held emotions he couldn't name, ones he wasn't used to seeing on her face, but they didn't look cruel or malicious. Just sad. As he passed her by, he paused long enough to speak softly to her.
"I know very well how Kodlak feels, how the Companions feel. I was raised with that vitriol. I see the logic in it, but I wonder on some level if there are more ways to find glory and honor than with a blade or bow, than slitting a bandit's throat or tearing open the Silver Hand with the blood. That is what I'm searching for."
"So it has nothing to do with Eliana?"
He shrugged, causing the pack to bump the wall loudly, "I don't think it's fair to say nothing. I've felt out of place for a long time, longer than I've known her. I hear the same reports about her that you do. I thirst for a feeling of success like that, to know that my life has been more than as a blade in a guild of them."
She looked astonished, "So you're jealous of her?"
He nearly snorted at the neat lie, "In a manner. Good hunting, Aela."
His feet echoed on the walls as he walked, armor a familiar metallic clanging as he walked. He was halfway down the barren hall when he heard softly behind him, "You too, Vilkas."
Ria was waiting for him in one of chairs near the doors to the lower levels. She stood at his approach, lifting a similar, if noticeably more full pack, onto her own back, "How long will we be gone?"
He shook his head, hair tickling his jawline, "As long as it takes. Kodlak didn't set a timeline."
Her braids swayed wildly, bouncing as she walked, her eagerness a tangible thing, but mercifully remained silent as they left the hall. Vilkas clapped his hand on Farkas's shoulder as he passed in farewell. Farkas nodded to him, in conversation with Skjor.
It was still early as they left Whiterun, the enormous city doors closing behind them with an unsettling finality. The sun was still casting shades of gold and red onto the slightly green grasses. The guards made little noise from their posts, but the Khajit caravan gathered outside the city called loudly to anyone who passed of their goods and wares. Vilkas nodded to Bjorlam, earning a nod back as his horse whinnied and stamped his feet.
After walking another short distance, they stopped in front of the old road sign at the divide in the path. Ria's eyes darted from one sign to another like one of them would start glowing to intuitively point the way, "Where are we heading?"
Vilkas brushed the falling snow out of his hair, annoyed with the cold already. He looked over the sign, the wood aged and full of rot. It wouldn't be long before some of those arrows were on the ground rather than the pole. He balanced the merits of each choice heavily before deciding, "The Reach. I'm aiming to get out of this damned cold, and maybe tangle with a sabre cat or two."
Nodding, she allowed him to take lead as they walked down the path to the right, so absolutely trusting of his authority. He hoped that wouldn't get her killed.
That warm sun he had so looked forward to from the cold confines of Whiterun was beginning to become bothersome as sweat dripped down into his eyes. He was certain his war paint he always put on for public outings was smeared more than usual. The air was dry and hot, despite all of the rivers cutting through the Reach landscape. Vilkas stood guard on the edge of a clearing just off the road to Karthwasten.
The scent of juniper berries and sun warmed dirt was faint on the breeze. The sun had reached peak a couple of hours before, but it hadn't cooled off any in the later hours. It had been nearly two weeks since the last decent rain in these lands. A brief famine was rare for this area, but not unheard of in the winter months. When the rest of Skyrim was being froze or rained upon, the Reach was a world unto itself. The banks of the nearest river they had passed were ever so slightly smaller, drying slowly. It was a sorry proof to how much a long dry season could devastate the small farming communities far outside the nearest large cities
The familiar sound of metal through wet flesh sang from behind him as Ria skinned the two sabre cats that had jumped upon them as they traveled. Ria had managed to kill one all on her own, but struggled to do it without letting the second kill her. If Vilkas hadn't been there, she would be the corpse. He barely watched her progress from the slightest corner of her vision, completely absorbed in guarding the surrounding area. His sword was back sheathed along his spine, but his fingers twitched in anticipation of trouble.
A small blue butterfly fluttered around the wilting mountain flowers when his sensitive ears picked up on a set of footsteps. Two, one nearly inaudible compared to the heavy footsteps of the other. He whispered to Ria, "Someone's coming. Ready your guard."
Without moving from her position by the second cat's side, she nodded, hand tightening on her iron dagger. Mostly unconcerned, he watched the top of the hill, waiting for them to crest. Within seconds, two women both clad in heavy armor came running down the road. One was dressed in Orcish armor, the other in steel plate, the former clearly leading the way.
As they got closer, but didn't slow down, Ria stood, reaching preemptively for her sword with her free hand, bloody as it was. The steps of the one in front even at a full run were quiet, though her companion couldn't boast the same. The warrior in front scarcely glanced their way as she ran past, the follower giving them a longer assessing look before continuing on, assured they weren't an immediate threat.
"Vilkas," Ria said as they ran so far along they were specks in the distance. "That woman in front. I think that was Eliana."
He ignored her, annoyance forming a hard ball in his stomach, like unrisen bread, "Finish cleaning your kill so we can leave."
Wise beyond her years, Ria complied silently, the dry grass scratching against her legs as she walked back to the cats.
She had just run past them. Hadn't stopped to chat as if they didn't exist, let alone had a common tie in a city far from here. Not that he was a talkative fellow himself, but didn't he deserve more recognition than that?
To which he had to laugh at himself. What in Oblivion was he thinking? She was a busy woman with a busy life.
But he wanted to be a part of that life. He wanted her adventures. He wanted her stories.
He wanted her.
Shaking his mind free, he felt a tap on his shoulder, "Yes?"
"All set, boss," Ria smiled. "What's next?"
He looked around at the light that was just starting to tinge with darkness, "We better set up camp for the night. Do you want first watch or second tonight?"
"First. I'll wake you if there's trouble."
They found a spot a healthy distance away from the corpses, likely to attract predators from all over the area. The bloody furs in Ria's bag made it just that much more dangerous, but what was life without a little danger?
"Make sure you do, and not just if there's trouble. We make the trek back to Whiterun tomorrow. We'll leave early, so make sure you get some sleep, alright?"
She nodded a bit sadly.
They set up camp the same as they had been for the last couple of weeks, a small fire to cook their dinner on and two rolls of fur to sleep in. Ria was learning not to chatter so much about nonsense and Vilkas was learning that conversation about a little nonsense wouldn't be the end of his sanity, even if it was his patience.
A couple of hours later, when they had finished their meal and Vilkas had hunkered down to catch a couple of hours, he asked, "Did you learn anything new out here?"
She snorted, "Yeah, I learned why the Companions never go anywhere alone."
"Good. Now you understand why we're not called something else."
"I guess."
Peace settled over them both, and the familiar fog settled over Vilkas as he began to be lulled off, "Vilkas?"
"Hmm?" he grunted.
"Did you...did you find whatever it is you were looking for?"
He glanced up, "What are you talking about?"
She shrugged, the dark nearly obscuring her, the fire just embers, "There was talk."
"Maybe you should listen to a bit less of that kind of talk."
"Perhaps," she said quietly. "But I don't think they're wrong about this one."
He didn't deign to answer her.
The journey back to Whiterun was rather uneventful compared to their trip out to the Reach. Ria was clearly put out about returning home, but Vilkas couldn't say the same. He was almost gleeful as the doors to the city opened to let them in, as the sounds of Adrianne pounding metal met his ears, as the smells of the market met his nose, making his stomach growl. It was nearly night as they climbed the stairs to Jorrvaskr, having traveled all day with nary a stop nor a break of any kind, though the leisurely pace couldn't be helped given their couple of weeks of near constant walking.
They walked in the hall to the rowdy welcome of their friends. Ria immediately ran to the table to talk up their stories to their friends, but as some looked to Vilkas, he simply shook his head with a slight smile.
Farkas held a bottle from a chair near the doors, "Want a mead?"
"Have I ever turned a mead down?" Vilkas laughed heartily, taking the bottle with a nod.
"How was the hunting?"
Vilkas took a long drink before answering, "Several wolves, couple of bears, and a handful of sabre cats. Honestly, it's a wonder how people in the Reach are able to travel anywhere. We ended up giving most of the furs to a few farmers traveling on the road heading to Solitude. Said something about joining the Imperial Legion, having lost everything due to the war. Damn shame."
"Meet anyone else along the roads?"
"There was a skooma dealer, but once he got a good look at us, he took off before ever speaking to us," Vilkas launched into that tale. Not an overly embellished or grand story, but a good laugh shared between brothers. Circumstances of late felt like a hammered wedge in the middle of them, but it was in these moments that Vilkas remembered why he and Farkas were both still here.
They talked until late in the night. When the night sky had lines of green fire running through them and the moon was high overhead, they retreated to bed, bellies full of mead and throats full of laughter.
The next morning, a pleasant mood had settled over him. Peaceful even. He dressed slowly, cleaning two weeks worth of filth carefully off of his armor and weapons before donning them once more. As he finished tying his breastplate, Athis knocked on his door, "Vilkas?"
"Huh?" he grunted.
Athis shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, "Word has come from Markarth. Eliana has returned the Breton to her home safely. Last word was she was headed back here."
His peace leached away, overtaken by a wave of anxiety, "Thank you."
Athis scampered away as quickly as he could, seeming afraid of Vilkas, to which he couldn't understand why.
The hell you can't! an evil voice said from the back of his thoughts. Every time Eliana gets brought up, you turn into a right bastard.
Not anymore. he told that little voice. She's a Companion, untainted, and on her way back. Things will be different now.
Not that he had the faintest idea as to how he could make it different, given that she clearly had no interest in him, but at least he would be calm around her now. He nodded to himself as he exited into the hall.
The best laid plans.
It was late the following day when she showed up in the hall again. There were dried bloodstains on her armor that couldn't have been more than a day old. She'd stopped somewhere between Markarth and Whiterun to have some fun.
Vilkas was in conversation with Vignar when he spotted her, taking her helmet off and shaking her head, her tied back brown hair soaked with sweat. Her follower was panting heavily, implying quite the run. Vignar bade Vilkas goodbye, which he vaguely acknowledged with a light nod.
She spotted him a moment later, and jogged lightly over to where he sat. He decided to play it off, "What brings you to me? Find some strange creature in your travels?"
"I rescued Voada."
"So I hear. You've brought honor to the Companions and yourself," he said proudly, hoping she couldn't hear it. Or if she could, she took a different meaning than the true one. He'd come to a decision the night before. No matter his feelings for her, they were fleeting. Given enough time, he was sure they would dissipate like a morning fog. He just had to maintain his sanity that long.
She seemed to wait for a moment, but he said nothing. Eventually she turned to walk away, but before she did, he would have sworn he saw her roll her eyes.
He said as she left, "All right, then."
What had gotten into her?
She walked across the hall and struck up Skjor in conversation, likely asking him for a contract since he hadn't offered. Too bad. If she wanted one, she could ask.
Thank you for reading, and thank you all for your support as this story progresses. I'm having a lot of fun writing this story, but am having some current troubles fitting it in to my new schedule. I'm not confident that the updates will be weekend regular anymore, until I can get a new steady schedule. Thank you in advance for your understand. As always, reviews and constructive criticism are more than welcome.