AN: This is basically going to be where I put any drabbles and random bits of writing to do with Vilkas and Dalla. Apologies for not updating Rabbit Hearted lately, but here's something silly to hopefully make up for it. I wrote this one after being inspired by a prompt on the Skyrim kinkmeme a while back. I'm not entirely sure when it fits into the Rabbit Hearted timeline, it was just nice to write something a bit more light hearted. Hope you enjoy~

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Elder Scrolls series, Skyrim, Vilkas or any other characters besides my own dragonborn.

picnic

When she'd first suggested spending an afternoon out on the plains with a basket of food and a bottle of spiced wine he'd nearly scoffed. Why bother when there was already a fine spread of food laid out by Tilma in the hall? But despite what he would tell others – not that they would believe him anyhow – he'd never really been able to resist when Dalla wanted something, and after a morning of not-so-subtle comments on the beautiful spring weather they were having, he'd relented. He had to admit now, sitting in the warm grass with a gentle breeze and a crème treat in his belly, it had been a good idea.

Dalla had packed the basket with bread still warm from the oven, fresh apples and his favourite treats. After an idle stroll from the city gates, she'd chosen to settle near the bank of the White River, a sunny spot where wild flowers coloured the grass with their vibrant blooms.

Once they'd eaten their fill, she'd taken a long sip of wine before pulling a book from the basket, begging him as always to read to her. She'd taken a liking to fanciful stories of late, having grown tired of the more brutal tales of war and heroes he was fond of. He'd indulged her, reading aloud the ridiculous Withershins, though she'd settled behind him with her knees pressed to his back not long after he'd started, seemingly more interested in playing with his hair.

"What if this alphabetical conversation wasn't a delusion at all? What if what he felt wasn't paranoia, but acute awareness? He knew – are you even listening?"

"Mmhm," she hummed, her nails scraping against his scalp.

He glanced at her over his shoulder, and she returned his look with a pleasant smile.

"You're getting to my favourite part."

With a shake of his head and a smile of his own he returned to the book, and Zaki's frustrating battle with alphabetical conversation.

They made their way back to Whiterun when the sun began its descent, Dalla humming a senseless tune as she grasped his fingers with her own. The warmth of the day remained as the sky grew darker, and gently glowing torch bugs began appearing in the twilight.

It was when they reached the gates that he first noticed something was odd.

The guard standing by Whiterun's gates tipped his head to Dalla, with the usual greeting of "Dragonborn." When he turned his glance to Vilkas however, his eyes widened.

"Hail… Companion," he said slowly, before averting his eyes.

Vilkas watched the guard suspiciously as they passed through the gates, but the guard was wholly focused on staring at a large rock by his feet. When Vilkas shot a questioning look at Dalla, she merely shrugged.

Passing by War Maiden's, Adrianne could be seen at the forge, dripping with sweat as she worked the bellows. She looked up as they passed, her greeting suddenly catching in her throat. She settled for a small wave before turning back to her work, shaking her head. Dalla smiled, commenting to Vilkas that Jarl Balgruuf could still be seen with the fine sword Adrianne had made strapped to his hip. Vilkas frowned, his attention on the blacksmith before they passed her forge and she disappeared from sight.

The vendors were beginning to pack away their wares when they reached the market, and Dalla stopped to chat with Carlotta, who stifled a grin behind one hand when she saw him.

"Spring has definitely arrived, hasn't it?" she remarked.

Vilkas stared.

"Aye," he replied slowly, wondering why women felt the need to state the bloody obvious all the time.

By the time they reached the steps to Jorrvaskr, his temper was well and truly awakened. Everyone they passed had either stared or averted their eyes, the poncy bard outside the Bannered Mare had actually laughed, before retreating to the inn with a gulp at the look on Vilkas' face. Dalla had smiled pleasantly the entire time, nodding to those she knew and placing a firm hand on his arm when he moved to follow Mikael.

"Calm down, dear," she said, sensing his agitation. "He's not worth it."

Stepping inside the mead hall, he felt like hitting something. What on Nirn was wrong with everyone? He had grown accustomed to being treated with respect; he was not only a Companion, but a member of the Circle, after all. He'd defended the city and its people for years, was the husband of the Dragonborn and now had milk drinking lute players laughing at him. When he turned to Dalla she was still smiling that pleasant smile, and for a moment the gleam in her eye made him wonder if she was privy to the joke.

"I'm going to have a bath," she said after a long moment, her eyes still shining.

And with a soft press of her lips to his she turned and made her way to the living quarters downstairs. He sighed, scrubbing his face with one hand.

When he stepped down to the long table where his brother was feasting on roast chicken and steamed potatoes, Farkas took one look at him before roaring with laughter, pounding the table with his hand. Scowling, Vilkas stalked past him, muttering every curse he knew under his breath.

It wasn't until he reached his room to wash that he saw his reflection in the water basin, and the colourful array of wildflowers that were woven through his hair.