Chapter Twenty-six-Highs and Lows
Farkas followed Laure and his brother through the front door of Breezehome, still quietly chuckling to himself. Lydia was at the cooking pot, stirring something that smelled delicious. She looked up and a broad smile lit her stunning face when she saw her thane.
"Welcome back, my Thane. I had hoped you would make an appearance soon; people have been anxious for news since we all heard the commotion a few days ago."
"Did everyone hear that?" Laure asked the ceiling with dismay.
"You shouting at the World-Eater to come back and fight you? Followed by some dragon gibberish? Aye, I think the whole world probably did. Did you really fight him and call him a coward?" Lydia asked, tapping her spoon against the side of the pot and giving Laure an eager, curious look.
"Bastard flew away when we weakened him. I was . . .miffed." Laure shrugged, set her pack down near the door, and went over to sniff the contents of the pot.
"So are you going to tell me about it, or do I have to start pulling fingernails? All of Nirn is dying to know what happened! Did you use the Elder Scroll, learn the Shout you need?"
"I'll tell you all about it later, but things didn't go quite as expected, and I need to go meet with Balgruuf as soon as I get cleaned up." Laure straightened and looked around her tiny house, tidy and warm, and just now she felt like climbing into bed and never leaving again. But she knew that wasn't possible.
Lydia didn't question her thane, but turned back to the pot and hummed while she sprinkled in more salt, content for the time being with the assurance that soon enough, she would know.
The twins immediately started heating water for washing, while Laure went upstairs to find clean clothes. In relatively short order, the three of them were clean, changed into fresh clothes polished armor over the warm undergarments. No amount of rubbing and oil could get the fresh black char marks from the nooks and creases, but Laure felt it gave them a certain character, credibility. Alduin's flames had been powerful enough to scorch dragonbone, coming near to overpowering the masterful enchantments cast on it by Shea'a. And they had survived. She doubted however, that the jarl would understand the significance. It didn't matter anyway what the jarl thought about her armor, just her need for his cooperation.
Laure sat down and thanked Lydia as the housecarl set a bowl of hot stew in front of her. Vilkas claimed the bench next to his mate and dug into his own lunch.
Lydia sat down and blew across the top of her bowl. As she waited for it to cool she asked idly, hoping to soften her thane into revealing something, "Anything else exciting happen while you were away?" She couldn't miss the quick, knowing, amused glance that her thane and Vilkas exchanged, nor the way Laurelin lowered her eyes after and blushed furiously.
"All right, what did you two get yourselves into this time?" she asked with mock severity, hiding her new blaze of curiosity.
Farkas smirked and snorted, "You're never gonna believe it when they tell you. I almost didn't when they told me!"
Lydia, now more curious, leveled her attention on her thane. "So . . .are you pregnant or something?"
"Ah, no. Vilkas and I um, we decided, that is he asked for—well there were these dreams, and Kynareth said-"
"For crying out loud! They got engaged!" Farkas interrupted. "Aaah, it's so cute when you turn that shade of pink, Laure!" Indeed, Laure had reddened noticeably, ears flushed as bright as her cheeks.
Lydia stared at her thane and noted that when she blushed, the color spread all the way to the tips of her pointed ears. "Truly? I thought that Bosmer didn't, well . . .shit. Congratulations you two. Have you decided when you'll tie the knot?"
Laure shook her head, biting her lip against the smile that kept trying to sneak onto her face. "I still need to face and defeat Alduin. After that, we'll go to Riften and be married there."
"Whoa, there! You can't do that!" Lydia exclaimed in alarm.
"I'm not sure I follow. Why?" asked Laure with an arched brow.
"You are probably the most important person in Skyrim right now. If you run off and elope, you run the risk of ticking off the jarls and nobility; and make no mistake, the Imperials will think they've a right to know as well. If you were a nobody, then no one would care, but for important figures, there is a form to be followed."
Laure was about to object, long and vehemently, but the front door opening distracted them all.
"Miss Dragonborn! You're back!" squealed Lucia when she stepped in and saw them all sitting at the table. She skipped to the table and shyly wrapped her arms around the neck of her hero. "Are you okay? We all heard you Shouting, and we could see the fire and lights the other day even from down here, and I was so worried about you, but now you came back and I knew you would! Braith said you would probably get eaten up, but I told her I'd punch her in the nose if she said it again. She told on me!" the girl cried indignantly.
"Lucia, you mustn't threaten the others when they say something you don't like. As you can see, she was wrong, I came back in one piece. See?"
"Aye, sorry, she just makes me so mad sometimes, the way she bullies me and Lars, acts like she is better than me just because she still has parents. Like it makes her so special and smart."
Laurelin, Vilkas and Lydia all exchanged glances. Lydia and Vilkas both knew Laure genuinely wanted to give the little girl a home, but hesitated to act too soon. Since they had battled Alduin, her confidence that she would survive the encounter had grown, but she didn't want to push her luck. She knew it would be a terrible blow to the child if she was adopted into a new home, only to have it taken away if something happened to Laure.
Laure sighed and squeezed Lucia fondly. "She may be special for having parents if you choose to look at it that way. I prefer to think how special you are. Braith has never known a hard, hungry day in her life. You, on the other hand, know very well what life can truly be like, what it is like to not have food and shelter, no parents, rags to wear; and you are still alive, and stronger for it. I admire that, and I love the way you haven't given up. Speaking of which, I noticed my shelves are dusted and there are flowers in all the vases. Did you do all that?"
Lucia nodded proudly. "Yup. I also helped with the washing and shopping. Lydia says I need to work on my sums, though."
"Well, thank you for all your help; I'm sure Lydia appreciated it as well."
"I'm your sword and your shield, sworn to carry your burdens, but I don't do dusting. Sorry," Lydia said with an apologetic grin.
Laurelin waved her hand airily, choosing not to mention the many times she had found the housecarl fastidiously sweeping and shaking the bed furs clean. "No bother, if Lucia is willing to help out around the house, I am more than willing to make sure she has plenty to keep her busy. What say you, Lucia?"
The girl clapped her hands together and grinned. "Yes, please, thank you so much!"
"Well, that's all settled. Now I need to stop putting this off and go give Balgruuf the news."
"What news?" Lucia wanted to know.
"You'll hear about it soon enough, I'm sure. You go play while it's still nice outside." Laure gently prodded Lucia toward the door. "We'll talk more in a bit."
Lucia nodded and skipped back outside. Farkas stood up and stretched broadly, arms wide.
"Well, I'm headed up to Jorrvaskr. See you two later, right?"
"Aye," agreed Vilkas; then he warned, "brother, not a word to the others about Laurelin and me being engaged to marry. We'll tell them when we're ready."
"Sure. I can wait. See you soon." He crushed Laure to his chest in a tight hug, slapped his brother's shoulder and ambled out the door.
"All of town is going to know in no time," Lydia muttered into the bottom of her bowl.
"It'll only be news until word of what I need to do reaches them."
"All right, are you going to keep me in the dark as well? What's going on?"
Laure stood and buckled on her helm. "I need to use Dragonsreach to capture a dragon. I don't imagine Balgruuf is likely to be thrilled at the prospect." She drained her mug, finally ready to face the jarl.
"Capture a dragon in the palace? Truly? I'm going with you. He will need to see you come in a very official capacity." Lydia jumped to her feet, eager to get the rest of the story in addition to fulfilling her duties as housecarl.
"More official than as the Dragonborn? I don't see how having my housecarl with me will help. No offense intended to you, Lydia. I just don't see how I'm going to talk him into this one."
"None taken, but it can't hurt," the brunette Nord insisted.
"She's right; the more visible reminders of your authority he sees, the better," remarked Vilkas as he followed the two women out of the house.
"Fine," grumbled Laure, and they all climbed the many stairs up to Dragonsreach. "Let's get this over with, already."
Balgruuf was not pleased, and not willing to allow Laure to use his home as a dragon trap, especially with the enormous pressure coming down on him from both the Stormcloaks and Imperials to support one or the other. Laurelin struggled to push her frustration and disappointment aside as she, Vilkas, and Lydia stomped back down the stairs.
"Now I'm a peacekeeper too. Or a peacemaker. I'll give him peace! Peace of the grave—go arrange a bloody treaty . . . bloody Ulfric," she muttered under her breath. "At least he didn't banish me from the hold!"
Vilkas heard but wisely kept his opinions to himself. The trio let themselves into the mead hall, which immediately went quiet when Laure and Vilkas came through. Conversations which had been buzzing abruptly cut off. All eyes were on them, and even though everyone seemed happy to see her and Vilkas, they had the look of kids caught with their fingers in the honeycomb. Their greetings were a trifle too casual, and the studied indifference was telling. Everyone lifted his or her tankard and emptied them, slurping sounds filling the sudden quiet. The exception was Ria. Her eyes were crinkled up with excitement, and a hand over her lips barely hid the wide grin spread across her face. She was practically bouncing with eagerness.
"They know . . .Farkas . . ." began Vilkas.
"Oh lords of Oblivion, that didn't take long," muttered Laure.
Not surprisingly, Ria broke first. She jumped up and clapped her hands, rushing over to Laurelin's side. "I just want to say how happy I am for the both of you! This is wonderful news-finally-and so romantic!" Her eyes were shining as she went on, "I have to know, did he put on an amulet and ask you in the middle of a beautiful garden?"
Laure's eyes flashed to Farkas, who was intently studying the chunk of bread in his hands, a perfectly innocent look on his face.
"No, there was no amulet, no garden, Ria. Sorry to disappoint you." Laure kept her eyes locked on Farkas until he couldn't avoid it her stare any longer. He gave her a sheepish grin and lifted his broad shoulders in apology.
Unphased, Ria continued. "Oh. Well, did he sweep you off your feet with poetry and flowers for your hair, while the gown you were wearing spun out around you, and sun set gloriously?"
"Nope. Come on, Ria. How often have you seen me in a gown? I might have had grass in my hair, though."
"Well, you're just impossible," Ria exclaimed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "I'm trying to envision this magical event, let me have my fantasy already! How often does the Dragonborn get engaged to the Master-at-Arms of the Companions? Sweet Mara!"
"Truth be told, I was filthy, wearing my armor, and lying in the dirt when he asked. Is that magical enough for you?" grinned Laure.
"No, no! You're ruining it!" her head flopped forward, shoulders slumped. "You two are hopeless."
"I might add, you were not in the dirt, love. You needed to be standing before I got down on one knee," Vilkas inserted quickly, realizing suddenly that his proposal had been far from the ideal of romantic. Ria might have a bit of a point.
"Well, at least you got that part right," Ria huffed and sulked back to her seat.
"So the other news I have is a little more critical than upcoming nuptials. It looks like we have most everyone here; where are Aela and Keiran?" Laure noticed a few furtive looks being passed through those assembled.
It was Athis who finally spoke into the thickening hush. "Aela and Keiran seem to have a new, more romantic affiliation these past few days. But that tidbit aside, they are out on a job in Eastmarch. Should be back in the next day or so, weather permitting."
Laure rocked back on her heels for a moment, absorbing what the Dunmer Companion had said. Aela and Keiran. She instantly worried about the implications of that liaison, then forced herself to put it aside for the moment. Blinking away her surprise, she gathered her thoughts once more, and began telling her friends what had happened on the mountaintop, what was happening now, and in the near future.
Once she was done, she looked from face to face, taking in their wary expressions. "All I ask is that we make an extra effort to be useful to the jarl and the citizens of Whiterun. We already do that much, but this isn't the time to be modest. I want the whole town to know that the Companions will protect the city from any danger. Feel free to bring other ideas and suggestions to any of the Circle."
The gathered Companions pounded the tabletops and shouted out their support and suggestions as soon as she was done speaking. With the exception of Ria, who folded her arms and announced primly, "I still think you need to have a wedding, the sooner the better."
Lydia and Laure both heard this, even over the din of shouting warriors. Laure was ready to shrug that comment off, when the houscarl leaned over and confided to her thane, "She may be right. A wedding to lure the more recalcitrant figures to Whiterun, then arrange the peace treaty to happen afterward. It may not be the picture of romantic, which is what Ria clearly has envisioned, but you could kill two birds . . ." Lydia trailed off and let her thane work out the rest, noting Vilkas hovering at her side, listening closely with a speculative expression on his face.
Laure tried rubbing her suddenly clammy hands on her pants, only to remember that she still wore her gauntlets. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to say, feel or do at this point, with Vilkas, Lydia and Ria all looking at her with such cautious expressions. She was at a loss. Weddings were new territory for her; in the past, she had attended several, but never paid much attention. She tried to remember as many details of the ceremonies as she could. There were words in front of a priest and witnesses, two people in love (ideally that is), generally followed by some sort of feast. The brides usually wore a look of shy triumph that had always confused her. Was it a victory to snare a man for life? She wondered. Obviously it was a goal to be obtained by human women, even other mer. Should I be upset that Lydia is trying to turn my wedding into a political lever? Does it really matter? How many other weddings have taken place where the newlyweds were joined not for love, but money, power, influence? At least Vilkas and I love each other, and if it smooths the road to a peace treaty, then all the better.
"You're probably right, Lydia," Laure finally sighed. "I'll go draft up an invitation right now." She turned to go downstairs, but her mate caught her by the hand and firmly tugged her back.
"What if we asked Balgruuf to send out the announcement to the appropriate parties?" Vilkas suggested. "It might catch their attention even more. You have had, ah, strong words with Ulfric; and given Tullius' record, he might still want to have your head separated from your body. After all, it was probably you who drew Alduin to Helgen in the first place. However, Balgruuf is known to be neutral—if one ignores his blatant sympathy to the Empire, which reinforces what our own inclinations are. Both the Stormcloaks and Imperials want to sway both Whiterun hold and the Dragonborn to their own sides, so they should agree. And let him be useful to us for once."
"Aye, maybe ask Vignar to approach him about it tomorrow. As it stands, I need to turn right back around and get back up to High Hrothgar, it seems, convince the Greybeards to host a council. Feels like we were just up there."
"You were just up there, my thane. If you like, I could accompany you up." Lydia smiled hopefully; and Laure, about to object, relented at the last moment.
"Well, I was going to climb straight up and come right back down, but if we ride, it should only be a few days there and another few back." Her gaze tracked over the floor, up her mate's legs, and slowly up the hard contours of his armored chest, coming to rest on the harder line of his lips. The intent look in his eyes spoke volumes.
He wanted to go with her, but he had not missed the import of Aela and Keiran pairing up. He knew he needed to stay at Jorrvaskr to keep an eye on things, and to prevent Aela cursing the man with the Beast Blood if he could. It was a pity Laurelin needed to leave again so quickly; the Harbinger was one person Aela rarely ever openly defied. She had been so with Kodlak, and she was so with Laurelin. But he knew that even Farkas and himself would have trouble swaying her opinion if she took it in her head to turn Keiran. Athis' opinion counted for about as much as a cup of warm piss when it came to matters of the Blood. Perhaps the poor sod would have the sense to deny her offer. Because he knew she would offer it to him.
And that was really just the icing on the sweetroll. His mental list seemed long enough to spill from his mind and roll across the floor. Wedding. The word, the very idea, sent a few thrills of something up his spine. At the moment he couldn't be bothered to try to figure it out. For now, he shook off the impulse to tie her up and never let her out of his sight. He knew she needed to go, so he reluctantly accepted their temporary separation.
"Will you rest for the night at least before you leave again?"
"Vilkas love, you should know there is no rest for the wicked. And wicked I am. There is no rest for me now, knowing what I know. If Lydia is up for travel, we will leave tonight. Time is of the essence." She privately hated using the cliché, but in this case it was painfully applicable.
Well he knew. The sick feeling was waiting to boil up again if he thought too hard about Alduin preying upon the souls of the honored dead in Sovngarde. Well he understood his mate's frustration with Balgruuf-with everyone, in fact. Other concerns seemed so trivial, petty by comparison. Perhaps the peace conference would help the different factions understand how much more important it was to put their smaller differences aside. Better to politely ask the World-Eater to kindly stop devouring those weaker than him. At least Laurelin can stick a sword through him. There is no blade that can utterly defeat politics and theology.
"Well at least you don't have to go all the way to the top this time. Let's get your bags restocked, and another hot meal into you before you go swishing off again." He nudged her to a table and put a cup of mead into her hands while pressing her to sit. She nodded gratefully, then leaned forward and forked a venison chop onto an empty plate, devouring the whole thing rapidly.
Vilkas watched with approval for a moment, then hurried to see that her supplies were put together. He even rummaged through a chest or two and came up with the snowshoes they had crafted, and tucked those into the straps of her pack, just in case. Ofttimes the weather around the Throat was unpredictable, and they couldn't count on being able to ride the whole way up. The snowshoes would help bring her back more swiftly and safely if she had to go on foot. He set the bag near her chair and kissed her ear before settling in himself next to her.
Laure turned and nuzzled into him, lips grazed his throat, then she offered him the last bit of her venison. Vilkas chewed slowly while his thoughts drifted, arm tight around her waist. Laure ate as much as she could, filling up on eggs, meat, fish and cheese, knowing she wasn't likely to stop until she had to. She washed it all down with mead, belched softly into her sleeve, then nudged Lydia.
"Go get money from the house and buy me another horse; I've ridden poor Roast hard the past few weeks, so I want her to rest here. I'll meet you at the stables within a half hour."
"As you command, my Thane." Lydia departed swiftly, taking Laure's pack when she left.
Laure said a few simple goodbyes, then Vilkas walked her out, both ignoring the jeers, whistles and catcalls as they firmly closed the door behind them. Hand-in-hand, they went quietly down the steps and stood silent a moment under the pink blooms of the Gildergreen. The sun was low in the sky, with rainclouds piling up.
"Do you truly think you will be able to convince the Greybeards, Tullius, and Ulfric to agree to a peace treaty?" he asked.
"Absolutely, aye."
"How exactly are you going to do that?"
"I can be quite persuasive when I need to be. And I intend to cheat." She gave an impish smirk and flashed an amulet that resembled a three-petaled flower. Vilkas knew the powers imbued in the pendant and grimaced a little, but shrugged. Even with the Amulet of Articulation, he felt she may have taken off more than she could chew. After all, it hadn't helped much with Balgruuf.
"I want you to do everything you can to prevent her, love," she said softly, voicing her new worry about Aela. "Tell her I, as Harbinger, would be most displeased if she were to offer the blood to Keiran. We all agreed the full Circle would decide together about introducing any newbloods."
"I understand. I just hope it isn't too late already. I'll go to the Underforge later and see if there is fresh evidence of the ritual."
"Good, I should have thought of that. I'm losing my touch." She grinned ruefully.
"Nonsense. Just hurry back if you can." He knew it was unnecessary to say it; she was aware of how he felt. He drew her into his arms one more time and covered her face with kisses. "Wear your helm, aye?"
"Aye. You don't fret, I'll be back in a couple of days, perhaps as much as a week. With my helm on-I won't take it off. Make sure there is bathwater ready when I get back; I'll need to wash quite badly."
Vilkas chuckled and spun her about to face the stairs, gave her behind a swat and muttered, "Get on before I decide to just take you home and tie you to the bed, let the world burn while I ravage you."
"You would never; it wouldn't be honorable," she snickered over her shoulder as she slipped away. I love you.
I love you as well, with all my heart. Vilkas waited under the fragrant branches until her footsteps faded and her scent lost, mingled with the perfume of the Gildergreen tree overhead.
Laure grabbed a few last things from Breezehome, penned a note or two, then dashed out of the city, waving to the guards as they quickly swung the gate open for her. Once, she had simply vaulted over the wall, and received a very stern scolding from the captain of the guard. These days she just let them swing it open for her. She arrived at the stables moments later, while Lydia was trying to talk down the stable-master's price on a saddle.
Laure smiled at them both and said, "We'll just use Roast's saddle; won't take much time to adjust everything." She lifted her saddle and tack down and began while Lydia counted out gold. Within a quarter of an hour, they had finished and were making their way down the stone-paved road at a rapid trot.
Lydia paced alongside Laurelin, quiet until they passed the old Honningbrew Meadery, then ventured into the silence as they clattered over the bridge, "So he finally asked you?"
"He's asked before, but I panicked."
"How old are you really, my Thane?"
"Almost three centuries. Why do you ask now?"
"How much longer can you expect to live?"
"No one knows. Some say I should already be dead; others have recorded our kind living much longer than I already have. I believe the will to live has much to do with it. But my studies indicate that the Dovahkiin can expect to live a very long time. If we aren't slain, of course."
"I—that is, are you sure about this? This is . . .huge, it's crazy, sweet, all of it! Are you sure? Do you understand what you are doing? There is no divorce; you will be committed to him for the rest of his life. As a Bosmer, non-native Dragonborn, I doubt anyone would cast stones if you found comfort with someone after Vilkas dies, but have you really thought about it?"
"As much as I need to, Lydia. My heart and mind are in perfect accord when it comes to Vilkas. Perhaps we make a strange couple, but he gives me comfort, support, shelter when I need it most, and reminds me daily of why I should fight, carry on. He reminded me what ideals I had set aside, kept tucked away to protect myself. He has been good for me, and I him. I love him, and most importantly, I trust him. Not to mention, the Divines can be most persuasive."
"Divines?"
"Better not to ask, really."
"Armor or gown?" asked Lydia, resigned by this point and afraid of the answer.
"What will shock the shaggy eyebrows off of Stormcloak?" Laure asked impishly.
Two days after Laurelin and Lydia rode out, a massive storm rolled in from the north, dropping several feet of snow in the lower reaches of the Pale; then it swept out over the tundra of Whiterun hold, blanketing the rolling valley with crisp white. The heavy clouds drifted south and broke apart on the Throat, depositing immeasurable drifts across its entirety.
Vilkas, distracted and not paying enough attention, focused more on where his love might be, missed the name of the newest potential recruit to the Companions. He had found no traces of fresh blood in the ancient font hidden away in the Underforge, just tufts of old hair and fur, black-crusted residue from when Skjor and Aela turned Laurelin over a year ago. That, at least, was a small comfort.
"Apologies, would you repeat that please?" he asked when he realized the recruit was staring at him with her crimson eyes, arms clasped behind her, waiting for his response.
"Serith Za is what I am called, Master-at-Arms," replied the stern Dunmer woman.
"And why do you desire to join the Companions, Serith Za?"
"I should think that would be obvious. I have no desire to join the Legion, nor do I care to fight for the Stormcloaks. Word has gotten around that the Companions are still neutral. I will join you, if you will have me."
Vilkas nodded and showed her downstairs to the dormitories. "It is a little crowded these days, but there are a few beds still free; pick any you like. Your belongings will be safe; we don't steal from each other."
"That is well. Do you not usually have some form of testing before you allow petitioners in?"
"Aye, but I think we can skip that for now. You have a certain confidence that tells me you are no novice. We will wait until the practice yard isn't so slick. The Harbinger will have the final say when she gets back in a few days."
"Very well, I will rest for a while, then perhaps you will introduce me to the others."
Vilkas was already heading for the doors. "You won't need to wait for me; they will find you and get your whole life story out of you soon enough. They are all out on patrol right now, but they should return before supper. Meals are usually taken together, upstairs."
"Very good, I will see you then," Serith Za replied as she dropped to a bed and closed her eyes, asleep in seconds, just like an old campaigner.
Vilkas made his way upstairs and paced with book in hand, welcoming each of the Companions as they returned from patrols. Everyone dried off and sat down to eat a hot meal. Serith Za came up soon after and deposited herself on the nearest seat, next to Vignar.
The old man gave her a quick once over, bushy eyebrows forming a line over his sharp eyes and nodded. Soon enough, the others had dragged plates and chairs nearer so they could get to know the newest recruit. Athis understandably was pleased to find the newblood was pleasant, experienced, and most of all, a Dunmer female.
Everyone was eating and drinking, chatting amiably, with the usual clamor, until the front doors opened, admitting two figures, shedding cloaks of snow onto the floor. Icy air swirled across the room and stilled all conversation. Aela stomped the slush from her boots and looked around into the suddenly quiet room.
"Did someone die?" she asked quizzically.
Farkas glanced to his twin, who was sniffing the air imperceptibly. Vilkas caught the look and gave a tiny shake of his head. The younger brother swigged the rest of his ale and then said to Aela, "Almost. It was a close call. I think the Circle needs to talk."
"Aye. Outside, now," suggested Vilkas in as mild a tone as he could manage.
Keiran glanced around and wisely retreated downstairs, while everyone else shuffled uncomfortably, busy refilling plates and mugs while the present members of the Circle exited the hall, headed for the Underforge.
Serith Za leaned over and asked Vignar, "Did I miss something?"
"Circle has it's own business that they discuss in private, nothing you need be concerned about. And some things, it's better not to know at all."
The newest Companion nodded and shivered as another blast of frigid air marked the last of the Circle slamming the doors shut. That redhead had looked dead pissed, and Serith Za wanted no part of whatever had gotten everyone's loincloths all in a twist.
Aela waited until the last grating of the stone door died away before she whirled around and faced the other three members of the Circle. "Is this necessary?"
"You tell us, shield-sister. Is it?" asked Vilkas tightly. It was bad enough that she and Skjor had offered Laurelin the blood on the sly; now he had to worry that she was just biding her time until she offered the blood to Keiran, or some other hapless victim.
"I don't understand why you are all so worked up. I suggested it to Keiran, but he wanted nothing to do with it. Mentioned being traumatized by it enough when he first met you three!" Aela sneered caustically. "Way to keep a secret too, by the way. You three, so very discrete."
"We made him a Companion, not a werewolf. Laurelin may have let her compassion get the better of her that day, but you can't argue, he's a good shield-brother, and he's never breathed a word about the Blood to anyone."
"Well, rest easy, brothers. I won't be offering it to him. I did promise that we would decide together before sharing the Blood, and I will honor that vow."
"Good, I'm glad I don't need to remind you about that."
"Don't patronize me, Vilkas. You're not my father."
"I'm not patronizing you, Aela. But the Harbinger expressly told me to convey her feelings on the matter. I just don't understand. If the lad cares for you, what matter that he is not cursed?"
"I'm not cursed! You aren't cursed Vilkas! You and the Harbinger have your cure for our disease, or curse, if you insist. You could take care of your nasty problem just like Farkas did!" fumed Aela with a sharp gesture toward the big man, who flinched back from her accusing finger. "You don't understand? You are too busy nipping at the heals of the Dragonborn's glory, trying to claim a bit for yourself, to notice that I'm lonely. You have your mate, and Hircine knows I'm over-the-moons happy for you two, but I don't have anyone who shares my particular interests anymore. You have your someone, you big ass, and even Farkas can go out and find a nice curvy mundane girl that he can marry and raise a pack of brats with now. I have no one since Skjor was fucking butchered!" Aela breathed deeply, trying to calm her racing heart, clenching her jaw against the fury she felt. Hircine, I want to just punch his superior, know-it-all face!
Vilkas said nothing, taken aback by this unusual display of temper from his shield-sister. She was rarely so forward and vehement. He could have reminded her that Skjor died when they went behind Kodlak's back to give Laurelin the blood. He could have reminded her that Skjor chose to go into the Silver Hand lair by himself, against the most important rule the Companions followed-that he had made his choice and paid the cruelest price. But he didn't; something held back the words that wanted to spill out, to prove he was right. Instead, his expression softened when he realized just how much truth was in his shield-sister's words. It had been a long process for her. Out of all of the Companions, Aela had taken the death of Skjor the hardest. Because she carried the greatest guilt, and she knew that her sorrow had been partly of her own doing. And she must truly enjoy the lad to get so worked up over, well whatever this was.
"What's a mundane?" Farkas softly asked Athis a moment later when it became apparent that no fists were going to fly, requiring him to step in. Yet.
"It means ordinary, or commonplace," whispered the Dunmer.
"Oh. Well, it looks like Vilkas and Laure will probably beat me to that, yeah?" Farkas said in jest, yet tinged with the slightest hint of longing. "Ordinary sounds kind of nice."
"Aye, they probably will, unless they put that off until she gets back," agreed Athis.
Aela tore her eyes from Vilkas to pin Farkas down with her piqued gaze. "What's this, now? What happened at the Throat? Is the Harbinger . . . ?"
"She is well, and ironically, on her way back up the to the Greybeards." Vilkas raked his fingers over the stubble on his chin, then suggested, "Perhaps we can fill you in on the rest of it inside?" He gestured toward the door, trusting they would soon find the time to smooth everything over between them. Until then, there were equally important things that Aela needed to know.
Aela nodded and preceded them all out into the evening wind, marching purposefully to the back doors of Jorrvaskr, intent on finally putting on some dry clothes. The men followed her into the now nearly deserted hall and settled near the fire. This promised to be an interesting tale, and nothing went better with a tale than flagons of mead, so while they waited for Aela to come back up, they warmed fingers and bellies with a tankard, then two. Aela took her sweet time drying off and making herself up, and that was fine by them. "Let her cool off" seemed to be the prevalent sentiment amongst the menfolk.
Ah well, it's been forever since I have updated. Thank you everyone for the reviews and follows/faves! I am so grateful to have a piece of your time and support, and I hope it is worth it! Please feel free to leave reviews, prod me from my non-posting inertia. Love and light to all!