The Boy With The Crimson Eyes
Chapter 8 – Enemies
On the first page of our story
The future seemed so bright
Then this thing turned out so evil
I don't know why I'm still surprised
Even angels have their wicked schemes
And you take that to new extremes
But you'll always be my hero
Even though you've lost your mind
- Love The Way You Lie by Skylar Grey
Faye stumbled slightly as she carried Drake down the long hallway. She was shaking terribly, eyes as large as saucers, her nerves frayed. It physically hurt to take in each breathe as she tried to steady her growing panic with deep, calm breaths.
She didn't know how she got away from Vilkas. All she knew was that she had to get as far from him as possible. Shor's blood, this was the moment she'd been dreading since she learned she was pregnant. This was what she'd been running from. She couldn't be here with the Blades. She couldn't be here with Vilkas. She didn't sacrifice so much just to have it all ruined now.
Her thoughts were chaotic, questions piling up. His eyes were a different color. How did that happen? How was that possible? And his voice. What had happened to it? How did he get that scar on his throat? Is that what had damaged his voice? He was so hard, cold, and distant. He didn't talk, didn't smile, didn't laugh. Gods, what had happened to him?
Tears welled in her eyes as guilt wracked her. Her heart was breaking just remembering when she'd first brought him to the cave.
The massive Nord warrior fell onto the fur pallet, but he didn't let go of her shoulders. She fell with him and immediately tried to pull away. "Please, don't," he begged, grabbing her by the arm and trying to pull her to the fur pallet with him. "You're going to be my wife… you swore… please… don't do this to me…"
She paused, standing stock still in front of him. He was on his side, his face pressed into the fur pallet, his blood-soaked fingers clutching the fur so tight his knuckles had turned white. He was shaking, violently, his shoulders jerking sharply as if he were crying, but he made no sound and there were no tears.
"Please, don't," he said, lifting a hand out toward her. His hand wrapped around the back of her neck and pulled her forward to him, burying his face in the curve of her neck. "Please, don't leave me," he pleaded, agonized. "I won't survive it."
A lump formed in her throat as realization settled in.
It had been her.
She was the woman that had hurt him so deeply.
She had been what changed him into the dark, ruthless, cold-blooded killer he was now.
Guilt - the likes of which she'd never felt before - hit her like a dragon's tail to the stomach.
She wondered if he knew how much it hurt to see him again. It was a pain that was soul deep. She could feel the wretched ache deep in her bones.
And the way he looked at her just now… gods… she knew without a doubt that he'd wanted to kill her. She didn't know why he didn't. All she knew was that she and Vilkas were enemies. That she understood. He hated her. She understood that even better.
"Mommy… who was that man?" Drake asked.
Faye hesitated. "That was… Wolf."
Drake giggled. "What happened to his hair and his bushy beard?"
Another unanswered question.
"He must've cut it."
The boy giggled again. "He looks funny."
Faye didn't think so. He was darker, bigger, stronger, tougher, rougher. But, sweet Mara, he was just as heart-stoppingly gorgeous as before.
Faye swallowed hard. "Do you know where we are, sparrow?"
"The Blades fortress," the boy chirped. His green eyes turned worried. "I thought you said we were never to come here?"
"We aren't," she answered solemnly. "That's why we're leaving. First thing in the morning."
Just as soon as I figure out how to get these gold bands off, she thought.
Sometime later, Faye was able to find the room she'd awakened in that contained all of their belongings. Drake had fallen asleep while she'd carried him, searching the enormous fortress for their room. She opened the door to the adjoining bedroom and gently placed Drake down on the bed and tucked him in.
The Dragonborn brushed back her son's midnight hair from his little face, her eyes glittering with the love she felt for him. She bent and kissed his forehead, nuzzled his soft cheek. Faye's fingers played gently with Drake's short black hair as she watched him twist fretfully in his sleep, whimpering. Her breath caught. The nightmares were back. It was just a matter of time until…
Her heart wrenched painfully, fear and trepidation mounting within her. She bent her blonde head and began to pray aloud in a soft whisper, "Oh, merciful gods, I have such need of your mercy now. Not for myself, but for my son, for this is truly his hour of need. Deliver him from the trials he will undoubtedly face ahead and I will pay you a thousand-fold with any sacrifice you ask of me. And if in your wisdom, you should determine that sacrifice must be my life for his, I will gladly make that covenant. My death will ensure my son's safety. I ask no more than that."
Faye kissed her son one more time and then silently crept out of the room, shutting the door behind her. Once she entered the common quarters of the room they were given, she let out a heavy sigh. She ran a weary hand over her long honeyed blonde hair before smoothing out the wrinkles of the clothes she wore. She frowned down at the soft kirtle and lavender gunna she wore that weren't her own.
Sweet Mara, she hated skirts.
The petite Breton woman lifted one hand in front of her face to study the gold band that encircled it. The frown on her face intensified as she examined it, causing the thin white scar that ran from the edge of her right eyebrow down to her chin to deepen.
The Dragonborn lowered her hand and looked around the room that was completely shrouded in darkness, except for the moonlight filtering in through the single window. There was a small wooden table covered with food and two wooden chairs pressed against the wall in the middle of the room. There was a snowy sabre cat head mounted on the wall over the table. There was a chandelier made of several goat horns hanging from the ceiling in the center of the room. There was only one window in the back corner of the room, a wooden chair in front of it. There was a home woven shawl on the chair's back, and a bearskin rug on the floor by the fireplace with a smoking chair on the opposite side of it. The fireplace currently had teakettle hanging in front of it on a hook. There was a rather small looking library lining the walls and some miscellaneous objects about the room in various locales. There were also small weapons and other trinkets on the mantle above the fireplace.
Faye walked over to the table and popped a snowberry into her mouth. As she chewed she used a match to light the oil lamp sitting on the table. She shivered from the sudden chill in the room and used another match to light a fire in the fireplace. When she was finished, a soft glow of light greeted her. Yet, the warmth she'd created in the room could not penetrate the ice that now surrounded her heart.
With a weary sigh, Faye turned around and headed for the table for another snowberry, but shock brought her to an abrupt halt. A strangled gasp choked her throat and a hand rose to her mouth to stifle a startled cry.
In the chair by the now open window - his ruggedly handsome face carved with deep lines of hostility - sat Vilkas.
Faye didn't dare blink, didn't dare breath, as Vilkas sat rigidly in the chair. His black hair hung to his chin, framing his face that was carefully expressionless, yet savage in its dark intensity. His impressive and imposing form more resembled a statute – solid, staunch, and chiseled from stone. But it wasn't his formidable figure that arrested Faye. It was his fathomless grey eyes, intent on her, that were as cold as ice.
Vilkas said nothing. He just sat there, glaring at her. Faye shifted uncomfortably, nervously. The silence between them grew, and slowly Faye ceased to breathe as tension began to inch itself along her spine, watching his gaze flicker over her face, relearning, taking in the changes and reacquainting himself with those things about her that would never change and those things that did change. As the silence stretched, tension tightened around her lungs, a fine buzz of awareness crackling across her skin.
"Fianna?" Vilkas asked sharply, suddenly, his damaged voice a guttural rasp that cut through the silence between them.
"M-My mother's name." Faye pushed the words through her constricted throat.
His eyes tightened. "And Ashhart?"
Faye buried the sudden stab of sorrow, guilt, and pain at the sound of her former last name being uttered so cruelly beneath a mask of stone that matched his own countenance. She lifted her chin slightly and answered simply, "My… maiden name."
His head snapped to the side, looking away from her and to the fire raging in the fireplace, his jaw sawing back and forth, his eyes flinty in the firelight.
For a long time, he remained eerily silent. Faye swallowed the lump in her throat, apprehension twisting her guts.
Grey eyes suddenly darted back to hers and Vilkas leveled her with a cold, hard stare that was so severe and ominous it caused the hairs on the back of her neck to rise. "How old is Drake?"
Faye sweat dropped, her blood running cold as fear crept down her spine like a cube of ice.
Six.
Her son was six years old.
But Vilkas couldn't know that. He could never know. If he did, he would know Drake was his. That could never happen. If he knew she had been pregnant when she left him, then he would know everything. He was a smart man, he would figure it out, and then everything she'd worked so hard for would go up in flames.
Guilt turned her stomach into a tight knot. Vilkas would have to think Drake was Brynjolf's. She would have to lie. There was no other way. Thank the gods Drake looked just like her, except for his hair.
Faye fought the urge to cringe at what she was about to do, the lie she was going to have to weave. Repressing her guilty conscience, she fixed a deliberately cool expression on her face and met Vilkas piercing stare. "Five," she lied. Her tone was even, giving nothing away. "Drake just turned five-years-old."
Faye watched as Vilkas gripped the armrests, his knuckles turning white. The silence stretched, tension crackling between them like a smoldering fuse.
After several heartbeats, his eyes flashed with something dangerous and his chin lowered, his glare sharp enough to cut bone. "You didn't waste any time spreading your legs for the first guy that came around after me, did you?" He accused with a hard edge while he drilled his cold, hard eyes into her skull.
Faye's mouth compressed in response to the embittered jibe. He had a right to be bitter. But explaining her actions six years down the road would be pointless. She gave a careless shrug, aiming for indifference, while she answered honestly, "I've always wanted a family. You knew that."
Vilkas' jaw turned to granite. Anger wasn't even close to what she saw on his face - it was much scarier. "I figured you died. Hoped for it, actually." His damaged voice was like steel encased in rusty nails.
Faye let out a harsh, scraping laugh that sounded hollow as hurt lanced through her. "Sorry to disappoint."
"It would appear you and I have unfinished business, do we not Faye?" Vilkas said her name as if he were spitting bile.
Faye glowered at him. "Any business we had ended six years ago, Vilkas. I thought I made that perfectly clear?"
A lightening flash of fury lit his gaze. "Oh yes, your note."
Her arms folded defensively. "You got it, then?" She wondered if he saw the tear stains on the paper. She hadn't been able to stop crying when she'd written it.
Vilkas went deathly still, except for the tremble of emotion that rippled under his skin. "I waited for you." His voice was low and controlled yet infused with simmering anger. "For five days, ten hours, six minutes, and seven seconds I waited for you in the Temple of Mara. I didn't leave. I didn't eat. I didn't sleep. I waited-" He broke off and dragged in a slow breath. Faye felt cut by the pain she glimpsed in his eyes before he quickly hid it. "I refused to leave. I refused to accept that you would, or could, do that to me."
She lowered her gaze from his accusing glare. "I'm sorry."
Vilkas stood up suddenly, and the chair banged into the wall behind him causing her to jump. "Spare me your empty apologies," he gritted out, casting her a baleful glance. "I hardly need it, any more than I need anything else from you."
Faye looked down, pulled shaky hands together, then straightened her shoulders and forced herself to look at him again. "Very well," she said without inflection as a voice in her head reminded her that she deserved his anger, his hate. She had betrayed his trust. She had no one else to blame but herself.
Silence split the air, tension thick. Squirming inwardly, aware that she'd helped create the hostility, Faye searched for something to say that wouldn't spike his anger. Her breath caught when Vilkas began approaching her. His grey gaze was glacial, and the sight of him was like an untamed wolf meeting its foe. Faye stood frozen to the spot as he began to circle her, like a predator did its prey.
Warily, Faye turned, keeping him in sight, unsure of what he might do. Each time she turned she kept meeting those piercing black-gray orbs that never left her, intense and unblinking, revealing nothing. She spun, but he somehow stayed right behind her. Her heart started pounding as he continued to circle around her. She hated it. It made her feel out of control and small. He was trying to intimidate her, she realized. He was proficient at it. She wouldn't let him get to her.
Vilkas came to an abrupt stop right in front of her. Faye quickly cast her eyes down and they traveled slowly over the leather jerkin that covered the woolen tunic over his broad chest to his dark pants that hung low on his hips. Sweet Mara, he was close. So close. Too close. Her eyes clenched shut and her knees became weak as she smelled the heat that rose from his skin that was laced with the heady scent of sandalwood, smoke, and something musky and male that was entirely him, reminding her of what she'd walked away from. Talos, it had been so long since she'd-
"Lift your face." It was cold and flat and totally unyielding.
Her breath hitched, but that was the extent of her reaction. She determinedly ignored him, and continued to stare at his leather jerkin and tunic that only served to accentuate the hard curves and muscles of his chest and arms.
"Lift your face." Faye flinched at his harsh command.
Steeling herself, she slowly tilted her head back, keeping her expression carefully blank. Large mossy green eyes slowly dragged up his broad torso, his strong throat, his chin to meet his eyes. Their gazes locked and the intensity she found there stole her breath away. Electricity crackled around them and the wild electric feeling built up inside of her until it was almost unbearable.
Green eyes widened as he stepped closer, invading her personal space, and fear of her own reaction to his nearness kept her motionless, paralyzed. His nostrils flared slightly, as if he were breathing in her scent, and her breathing became labored as she stared up at him, legs turning to water. The moonlight spilled in through the open window and played across his face, revealing the stark angles and hollows, and this close she could see the unfamiliar, angry red scar that cut across his neck, as if a blade had been dragged across it.
His eyes, like two clouds of smoke, held hers, refusing to release them, as his hand lifted between them to her face. Faye cringed when the tips of two fingers came into contact with her scarred right eyebrow. Vilkas' eyes narrowed slightly, as if he disliked her reaction to his touch.
"Don't." She hadn't even realized she'd whispered the word until she heard it hanging in the silence between them.
Vilkas paused for just a second before brushing her blonde hair aside and out of her face, sliding the silken tresses to her ear, revealing the thin white scar that angled from the outside of her eyebrow to her chin.
His intense stare was a tangible thing as it fixated on the scar that marred her once flawless face. "How did you come by this?"
Faye's breath was none existent as fear thrummed through her, increasing her nerves. She couldn't answer honestly. She would have to lie. Again.
Before she could formulate a response, the tip of one finger slowly traced the scar from her eyebrow to her chin. The slight caress sent every nerve in her body aflame, sharpening all of her senses, a violent tremor sweeping the length of her.
Vilkas noticed the shudder. His gray-black gaze flickered to catch her eyes, holding them, his fingertip lingering on her chin. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest. She could hardly breathe.
The prolonged silence pulsated between them and the heat of his finger seemed to brand her skin. A ragged breath fell from her lungs. This was a dangerous temptation. She was afraid of her own weakness, of what she might let him do – of what she wanted him to do. It was pathetic, really, how rapidly her walls of defense had tumbled.
"Was this a gift from your husband?" Vilkas spat the last word as if it were poison on his tongue.
Faye blinked and her back snapped straight, pulling out of his grasp. "Do not speak ill of him," she snapped, her ire rising. "I care for my husband. He would never hurt me."
Vilkas' eyes flew from her scar up to her eyes, boring into them, and if looks could kill, she'd be convulsing on the ground right now.
"Such wifely devotion," he replied with a cynical edge to his voice as his gaze ran over her with open contempt. "But then, you are very good at acting when it suits you, are you not?"
Her eyes flashed as her chin lifted sharply. "I have never lied to my husband," she answered with quiet dignity.
His top lip lifted in disdain. "Only with me, then?"
Faye felt her insides twisting with remorse. She opened her mouth to try and explain as best she could, but he spoke first. "Was it all a lie, Dragonborn?" he hissed with disdain. "You said you were hiding from an abusive husband, but clearly you lied about that. You said you would marry me, but we both know how that turned out. You promised forever, and only gave a week. You said you loved me, but you wouldn't have been able to marry another man if that were true." As he watched her, she saw the scorn fill his eyes. "Is there anything you haven't lied about?"
Faye bit her bottom lip that was trembling and clasped her hands together in front of her so he wouldn't see them shake. "I didn't want to lie to you. I'm-"
Vilkas shot her a scathing glare full of revulsion and disgust. "Were you fucking him while we were together?"
She cringed at his crassness. "Vilkas-"
"Were you? You married the thief only one month after you left me," he spat vehemently. "Were you with him Faye while you were promised to me? I think you owe me that much. I think I ought to know when you stopped wanting me and started wanting someone else."
Faye turned away from him, unable to handle this conversation now. She kept her back to him as she quickly put as much distance between them as she could, hoping the space would ease the hurt tangled within her. "I… I don't want to talk about this."
"Is that an admission, I hear?" Faye heard Vilkas hiss at her back. There was an unmistakable ring of accusation and bitterness in his tone and she did her best not to let the cutting barb sink too deep.
Faye closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Once she reached the other side of the room, she gathered her courage and then forced herself to turn and face him again and winced when she found Vilkas glaring at her as if he'd like to tear her limb from limb.
"Talos, if I'd known you were such a whore I would never have asked you to marry me," Vilkas ground out, his voice harsh and biting. His face was set like flint, anger hooding his gaze.
Though she schooled her expression to remain neutral, unaffected, her chest rose with her erratic breathing as his words tore at her soul. "If you think treating me this way will make you feel better, then by all means continue calling me whatever it is you please," she shot back.
He turned toward her abruptly, a sharp edge to his gaze. "Gods, I was a fool to ever believe anything of you."
"You are entitled to your opinion, but I can assure you it is wrong. Anyway, it was a long time ago," she said with carefully measured calm. "It matters not anymore. It's in the past."
Faye's eyes widened and she took a step back when he began stalking toward her, his aura leonine - all feral and predatory - a wild animal lingering just beneath the surface of his humanity, ready to attack at the slightest provocation. She edged backward, her eyes darting to the door that Drake was sleeping behind and then the door leading out into the hallway.
Feeling like a cornered animal, Faye steered away from him, but Vilkas moved in swiftly, using his bulk to dominate her path to the bedchamber to get Drake. She moved to pass him, but before she could get far, his strong hand grabbed her arm and nearly gave her whiplash as he yanked her around. The hard wooden wall slammed into her back as Vilkas pushed her up against it.
Her chin lifted in defiance as his imposing form towered over her much smaller frame. "Let me go."
"Not a chance," he growled as he placed his hands on either side of her head, trapping her between his outstretched arms. "I have questions and I want answers."
His closeness was playing havoc with her emotions. She tried to calm her scattered wits. "I have no desire to discuss anything with you."
The hard and severe expression he wore made the rough planes of his face appear even more forbidding than usual. "Why?" The word erupted from his throat, breaking the still silence. "Why did you leave me?"
Faye slumped back against the wall, a gnawing sensation digging a hole into her chest. By the Nine, she'd been dreading that question for the last six years, eight months, and five days. She closed her eyes, picturing her son's sweet face, hearing the sound of his laughter. She had reasons. Good reasons. She'd done the right thing in leaving. And in the same situation, she'd do it again. But without telling him everything, she couldn't make him understand.
Vilkas' jaw clenched as his fingers pressed into the wall, straining white against the wood. "Why did you betray me?" he ground out, his face close to hers, sharp grey eyes assessing her closely.
The words lodged in her throat. The air crackled with tension as the silence stretched between them like a yawning void. The fire's glow illuminated his tormented features and her anguish deepened. She expected his anger and his hatred, but for some reason she hadn't been prepared for the depth of it.
"Say something dammit!" he spat venomously, spearing her with a burning glare. His jaw was so tense, a small vein in his neck pulsing. He looked like he was about to explode with the sheer amount of anger housed within him.
Faye's gaze snapped back to his, her expression a myriad of regret and grief. "I'm trying. This is… hard for me."
His black eyebrows snapped together. "Hard for you? You think this is fucking hard for you?!" Vilkas barked, resentment and animosity burning in each word, and she flinched at the ferocity of it.
The hurt that was carved into his features pierced her heart. "Vilkas…" She reached out a hand to him and withdrew it just as quickly. Comfort automatically given, then consciously taken away. "I'm sorr-"
His black eyebrows drew low and tight over his eyes. "Don't you dare." His tone was hard, dark, dangerous. "Don't you dare say those fucking meaningless words to me."
Faye tensed, suddenly very aware of the palpable aura of danger emitting from him, striking a fear into her heart. The Dragonborn swallowed, hard, a cold worm of dread coiling in her belly.
"How could you have done it?" Vilkas bit out with asperity. "How could you have done that to me?"
Her heart sank, an icy chill coating her veins. "You know the answer to that, Vilkas. I don't have to defend my actions to you."
"How could you have deceived me?" His eyes flickered to hers and Faye winced, her heart wrenching as she caught a glimpse of a soul tormented by a deep sorrow. "How could you have given yourself to another?"
An ache settled tight in her chest. She could lie, but when she tried to, nothing but honesty fell from her lips. "Because I wanted something you could never give me," she confessed in a little voice. "Motherhood."
Arctic grey orbs lifted to pierce her from beneath wayward strands of obsidian, his eyes incredibly intense. But he said nothing. He just stared at her, eyes flickering back and forth between hers, as if he was searching for something.
At his lack of denial, Faye bristled, feeling her anger rise. "See, you can't even deny it, can you?" she shot back, her hands fisted at her sides. "You never wanted a family. I knew how much you hated kids, how much you despised the thought of ever having your own." Indignation lit her face. "I did the only thing I could!"
"You did what was right for you, without even speaking to me about it!" His eyes were mere slits, his jaw locked like a vice, a snarl on his lips. "You broke all your promises!"
"It wasn't an easy decision, but it was the right one," she returned. "I know I don't deserve your forgiveness-"
At her words, anger flared in his eyes. "No. You don't." His voice was a gravel whisper, a rock tugged along her bare nerves. "What you did to me was unforgivable."
Unable to stop herself this time, she hesitantly placed a hand lightly on the corded muscles of his bicep, and felt the hardened muscles there coil with tension at her touch as something wild and primitive flared in those black-gray orbs. Vilkas went rigid, his eyes dropping to fix on the hand that was touching him. The small muscle on the side of his cheek flexed and relaxed, then flexed again.
"I know." She swallowed hard as his eyes flickered up to lock onto hers, the dark heat in them almost frightening. "Vilkas… I've given you no reason to believe me, but… I want you to know that I never wanted to hurt yo-"
A low growl came from his throat, a feral sound, before his mouth came crashing down on hers and he was shoving her roughly against the wall. He kissed her in a way he'd never kissed her before. In a way that Faye didn't even know you could kiss. Vilkas didn't so much as kiss her as tear at her brutally with his mouth. It was not kind. It was violent and merciless, seizing and harsh. It was intentionally cruel, and meant to hurt not to please, and the viciousness of it brought tears to her eyes.
Her body was rigid and reluctant when he used one muscular arm to hook her brutally at the waist and yank her body so that it crashed into his, his other hand twisting viciously in her hair until it hurt her scalp. His lips burned hers with the deep-sated hate he held for her. The hard press of his mouth against hers was filled with mean curses and hateful accusations. The poison that was his bitterness and anger and hate was being pumped into her mouth, and Faye felt she'd choked on it.
Unable to bear this form of torture for another second, the Dragonborn shoved at his massive chest that was like caged iron. Vilkas' mouth broke from hers from the force she'd put behind it.
Without thinking at all, her hand lifted itself and delivered a stinging slap to his smooth jaw, unable to bring herself to cause more harm than that.
The sound echoed ominously in the dead silence room. Her hand throbbed unbearably, the delicate bones of her hand feeling as if they'd slammed into a brick wall.
Despite the pain in her hand, Faye straightened to her full height, barely over five feet, and threw him a flaying look. "How dare you," she hissed. "You have no right to touch me now."
His head slowly turned back to hers and Faye stood frozen, staring at him, her chest heaving, eyes wide and lips parted. Vilkas' eyes clashed with hers revealing a thin, cold thread of anger tightly twined with a scarlet strand of lust. His eyes drifted shut for a fraction of a second, and when he opened them again, fury blasted her.
"Don't do that again," he warned, his tone deadly.
Faye's heart beat a rapid tattoo, so loud in her ears that she was certain he could hear it, but she stood tall and tucked her chin while staring him down. "Likewise."
She stared into his eyes, those hardened black-gray orbs that were filled with so many dark shadows they looked almost like frozen pieces of slate. Never had she seen such smoldering anger and accusation. "I wish I'd never seen your face." The inflexion he gave the words was so sharp, so bitter that Faye actually flinched as it stung like a lash of a whip.
"Well that makes two of us," she lashed out, hoping her words hurt as much as his did.
Was this really Vilkas? The man she'd fallen in love with so deeply and irrevocably? She'd hoped he would've stopped hating her by now. But she could see it in his eyes as they bored into hers, dark and deep grey pools of simmering anger, that he held nothing but icy disdain and bitter hatred for her.
Her heart was sick. She felt like she'd been gut-punched. It felt like something inside of her had suddenly broken.
He was a stranger to her now, a terrifying stranger.
Talos help her, she couldn't do this. She couldn't take his hate. She couldn't take his anger. She couldn't take his cutting words. She had to get out of there. She had to leave or else she'd die.
Turning away, Faye stared blindly around the room. Moving slowly, she began to gather her things and collecting some of the food in a pack for the road.
"What do you think you're doing?" His voice, harsh and impersonal, came from behind her but she couldn't turn around.
"Leaving." She cursed herself that her voice shook, but it couldn't be helped. "Drake and I will go away. You won't hear from us ever again."
Vilkas laughed, a deep, throaty chuckle that shook her from her head to her toes. She turned around to face him. There was a hard glint in his eyes when they met hers. "You're not going anywhere."
Her stomach plummeted. "What?"
"You heard me."
Her heart was pounding in her throat. "You can't keep me here against my will, Vilkas."
"I can." His voice held complete conviction in his ability to do just that. "And I will."
A wave of anger built inside of her. "You can't hold me prisoner."
He stared across the short distance that separated them, a dark smile slowly gracing his features that was wholly disturbing. His eyes held grim satisfaction as they raked her with icy disdain. "You're not getting away from me until I get what's owed to me." There was no warmth in his expression, no emotion other than harsh resolve.
Panic licked her spine. "What are these?" she asked hotly as she held up her wrists to show him the gold bands that encircled them and then pointed to the gold band around her neck that looked like a collar.
His lips twisted into a sardonic smile that caused her anger to intensify. "They prevent your use of magic and shouts."
His answer hit her with an unseen force and she pitched forward. Unsettled, she fisted the material of her skirts, her knuckles turning white. "How dare you." Faye was seething, the words slipping between her clenched teeth. "How dare you make me defenseless when I have a son to protect, you… you…" she stammered in her rage, her petite frame shaking with her anger. "…you…bastard!"
There was too much fury to contain, and in her rage the Dragonborn marched over to him. "Take them off right now!" Her hands went to his chest and she shoved him as hard as she could, ignoring how he didn't budge an inch. She shoved him again, demanding he remove the gold bands.
Vilkas bristled at her vehement hostility, his nostrils flaring. When she tried to shove him again, the Commander of the Blades caught her small wrists in his large hands, his grip unrelenting. "No," Vilkas stated firmly, eyes hard and narrowed, mouth set in a firm line.
She ripped her hands from his. "Curse you!" The Breton gave the Nord a baleful look. "You want revenge, don't you? That's what all of this is about, isn't it? Isn't it?!"
"Yes." The look he cast her was caustic. "Do I not deserve it?"
Yes. You do, she thought. More than you know.
But that didn't mean she would allow him to take her and her son captive. Drake needed to get to Riften. Now. His condition would only get worse, unless he got his medicine. She couldn't waste time being locked up here, answering Vilkas' questions and being subject to his bitter loathing and resentment, and most likely punishment.
Yes, she'd hurt him, and she carried that guilt and regret with her every damn day. But he was the one who made her choose. He forced her to run. He was a threat to her and her son. Gods, she wanted to scream. She wanted to leave. What right did he have, the utter cad, when it was he who betrayed her!
Her ire spiking, Faye glowered up at his shadowed face, searching the harsh features above her. "So, this is just some petty pay back scheme? Are you that much of a gods damn child that you'd stoop so low as to-"
He grabbed her shoulders roughly and shoved her against the wall. "I warned you," he reminded her through clenched teeth. "I warned you I would make you regret ever leaving me."
"You're never going to let it go, are you?" she sniped at him resentfully. "Your stupid male pride got dented, and now six years later you're still harping on about it!"
Vilkas stepped back from her and drew himself up, taller, darker and more imposing than ever before. Dangerously so. "Faye…" Her name was both a threat and a warning.
She was glad she affected him, glad her words cut him the way his cut her. "I told you I wanted a family. I told you all I ever wanted to be was a mother, to have a child of my very own. And what did you say?! You refused, again and again, to ever have a child with me!"
His hands curled into tight fists at his sides. His body was shaking, seething in anger. His expression was so fierce she thought he would smite her.
"Was it really so surprising that I left you? Was it, Vilkas? You refused to give me the one thing I wanted in my life, after I begged you over and over again to reconsider. So what did I do? I went out and found myself another man who could give me what I wanted!" She barely managed to get the words out before his fist collided with the wall beside her head, breaking through the wood.
Faye visibly shrank, her eyes wide in fear as shards of wood splintered around her. Her blood ran cold as her eyes shifted to the side to see the fairly large hole in the wall, his fist still within it.
She could smell blood.
Silence hung thick over them. The only thing she could hear was her lungs struggling to breathe, and her heart pounding in her chest. Her head turned slowly back to him and everything within her turned to stone. Her ribcage felt too tight and a sick feeling settled in her stomach as she stared up into his face.
He loathed her.
It was as clear as day in his stony face, in the violent tic in his clenched jaw, and black waves of enmity, violence, and malice pulsed around him. The hardened blocks of ice that glared into her eyes had gone wild, a deep scowl tainted his lips. He looked like a dark demon come to pray on her soul.
"I'm going to make you suffer." His voice was a low growl, barely audible. His upper lip curled, bearing sharp white teeth that gleamed in the dim light the fire threw off, and she imagined him cutting her heart out and devouring it whole. "For this hell you put me in."
Vilkas ripped his hand free from the wall and stormed toward the door, his hands fisted at his sides, his right fist dripping blood onto the floor. He slammed the door shut behind him with a violent shake of the walls from the force he put behind it.
Faye's eyes lifted to the ceiling as she silently prayed to anyone who was listening that he was just bluffing.
But she knew Vilkas.
He didn't bluff.
Author's Note: I'm so sorry this chapter took me so long to post, but it was one of the main chapters in my head that was the inspiration for this story and I wanted it to be perfect. I'm still not happy with it, but I figured I couldn't hold onto it any longer without you guys throwing things at me through your computer screens. I hope you like it. I will probably be touching it up here and there. This chapter has a soundtrack: Love The Way You Lie by Skylar Grey. The song was originally performed by Eminem and Rihanna. You can hear the whole song for free on YouTube. There's a good music video with the Skylar Grey version too.