Kogouma: Indeed it was. Glad you enjoyed it.

Eragon5hadeslayer: Lol, awesome. I too, like Vilkas' smell. Aela is really awesome. She needed to make up for being kind of bitchy before, I think. Nice to know you're mine, faithfully. ~

Stachys: LOL. You'll see dear. I may surprise you.

Too lazy 2 login: Ha, brilliant. The thing about the companions being slightly ooc sometimes is that when I played the game, they really don't go into great depth with their true selves a lot and after you marry them, EVERYTHING changes. It's good to know you can forgive me. So forgive Vilkas' somewhat dominate wolf side that may show itself from time to time. Lol, Searching for Farkas and reading all day about Vilkas. Brilliant. And Gee, another long reviewer. You guys are starting to spoil me.

TeB360: Yeah, sort of. I was never satisfied with the way I found Skjor. He was just crumpled there with seemingly nothing wrong with him. He looked like he was just taking a nap to me and that could not stand! Sort of like Lucian but he's hanging more like Jesus on the cross in my mind. I tried to make it slightly symbolic as a martyr to a cause. And yes, lol. I too plundered his armor and had Vincent wear it on my play through. Aela and Vincent will find it and recover it but I doubt Vincent will wear it. Too heavy for his poor little mage body XP

Shrimpeater: Major Feelssss. And yeah, probably. Silly sensitive Mage…Although, he did see his mum gutted open like a fish so maybe it wont be too bad? I don't know lol.

And now I must admit something. Before I started the story, I almost paired Vincent with Farkas instead of Vilkas. Vilkas would have just ended up being the brother who hated his brother's boyfriend and poor Farkas would have been caught in the middle of their fights. After a long debate I chose Vilkas instead. I liked their 'magic is evil' arguments that could lead into angry hate sex later. Call me a perv for that being my basis of decision but I love that kind of relationship. Vilkas and Vincent are different in personality and outlook witch is why they work well in my head. I think there wouldn't be so much Drama is Vincent was with Farkas. I think Farkas would be too afraid to crush Vincent in his grip and he's really just a big softy…. I'd like to know what you guys think too. At the end of your reviews, drop me your opinions. I can do a freaky dream chapter of something along the line depending on answers.

Chapter 11: Too cold outside

And they say She's in the Class A Team

Stuck in her daydream

Been this way since 18

But lately her face seems

Slowly sinking, wasting

Crumbling like pastries
They scream

The worst things in life come free to us

-Ed Sheeran- A Team

Vilkas couldn't believe it was actually raining in Whiterun. It was usually snow but the Gods had the good sense to help the plant life with some rain. It was strange how the clouds had suddenly opened up and let a cascade of violent rain crash upon their heads. Vilkas' hair was still slightly damp. He'd just being walking with his brother when suddenly the torrential downpour suddenly let loose.

Vilkas sat silently near a window and looked out to the gloomy, soaked streets. He really hoped Vincent wasn't caught in this…

A sudden nudge to his shoulder, pulled his gaze from the window. He looked up at Farkas, who held out a mug of mead for him. Vilkas took the cup gratefully and watched Farkas sit opposite him.

"Why are we here again?" Vilkas asked, taking a sip of his mead and found it passable. "Jorrvaskr has better mead then this." He glanced about and took in the atmosphere of the Banner Mare.

That horribly garish woman, Uthgerd the so-called-Unbroken, was seated in the corner of the room. She had been watching the brothers since they walked in with a steely glare and a grimace on her unattractive face. She was not companion material, especially since she didn't seem sorry for killing another prospect. It took Farkas only a moment to throw that woman from the hall after she argued her worth. Vilkas ignored her glares, easily enough.

That insufferable bard was there chatting up the poor widow, Carlotta. She looked like she was doing her best to ignore him and sipped her mead. Hulda was at the bar, smiling and watching over her patrons. The redguard girl that Vilkas rarely ever saw was currently not present. Sinmir was in the corner, muttering something about the security of Whiterun and drinking himself blind. That seemed to be all the regulars.

"You needed to get out of there." Farkas sighed heavily, breaking Vilkas out of his observations and took a swig of his own mug. "You've been stalking about aimlessly since Vincent left with Aela yesterday. You need to get your mind off it and the Bannered Mare is a good place to do it."

"Easier said then done, brother." Vilkas set his mug aside, uninterested in it at the moment and resumed window watching. "this place does not provide a good distraction."

"Worried about him?"

"Always."

"It's unlike you to care about someone so much."

"Aye."

"What's wrong with you?"

Normally, Vilkas would have smiled for his brother and waved it off but there was deep concern in Farkas' voice. They always had each other and they promised as much when they were children. They'd always be together and would only ever need each other. That's how twins were supposed to be, right? But now, all of Vilkas' thoughts had shifted to another and it was only obvious that Farkas would pick up on the change.

"I…don't know." he answered truthfully, before turning his gaze to his brother.

Farkas was frowning slightly. It wasn't an upset frown, more of a concerned one. His blue eyes that were an exact match to Vilkas' were trailing over Vilkas' face as to take in his every feature to determine truth. His big hand was lightly resting on his mead, a sign he wasn't stressed or upset as others may think he was.

"Can I ask you something, brother?"

"You know you can." Vilkas sighed.

"Do you love him?"

Vilkas froze. Farkas, Jergen and Kodlak had been the only men he'd shown love for and those were not in the ways he was sure Farkas was implying. He went through all the possibilities in head, running through every detail and moment he'd ever had with the mage. His dreams, the marking, the way Vincent smiled in the morning, there arguments about magic, the way he moved, the way he laughed and most importantly, how he made Vilkas feel. Did he love him?

"I…" Vilkas stopped and starred at the table. He'd marked Vincent without thinking. It had felt natural to do so and he'd been caught in the moment. He worried uncharacteristically, when Vincent had gotten sick. He felt protective….possessive…he wanted Vincent to look at no one else but him. Was that love or just Obsession…?

Farkas sighed, interrupting him. "You do."

"What?" Vilkas' eyes flickered back up to his brother. To his inner relief the frown of concern was gone and replaced with his normal understanding smile.

"You love him." Farkas concluded, obviously thinking himself rather smart by the suddenly smug look he got while lifting his mead to his mouth.

"Oh yeah?" Vilkas spoke trying not to get defensive. "How would you know?"

"I know you best."

Well, he couldn't argue with that. Vilkas took his own mug and just swirled it on the table idly. "How are you so sure…?"

"He makes you act different. At first I thought it might just be some kind of rivalry. You were defensive and harsh about his magic, which was not strange for you. Then it seemed to matter less and less. Then, that night happened…and Aela told me you marked him…" Farkas' voice lowered so the other occupants of the Bannered Mare would not hear them. "Why would you mark him if you didn't love him?"

"It was instinct." Vilkas huffed. "My wolf was acting on it's own behalf. I wasn't thinking."

"Do you regret it?"

That was good question. "Honestly?"

"Yes."

"I don't….and I don't know why. I've trapped him with me now. If he runs…I'd hunt him down. I don't know if that's just the wolf altering my way of thinking, but I want him to be with me. I won't let him go now and I don't regret trapping him." He swirled his mead in the tankard again and watched the yellowish substance, instead of his brothers' eyes. "Does that make me a horrible man?"

"No. Not to me anyway…" He smiled kindly. "I think this may be love, brother. You're afraid to loose him and you spend every second worrying about him when he's gone. I'd never seen you behave this way before."

"So… I love him?"

Farkas grinned broadly. "Yep."

Just fucking wonderful….

He huffed at his brother's grin. "And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"How do you feel about all this?"

Farkas put a hand to his chin and 'hmmmed'. He was obviously trying to act smarter then he actually was now. Vilkas really hoped this wouldn't go to his head. "Do you mean about Vincent or about the situation?"

Vilkas rolled his eyes. "Either."

"I like Vincent." He grinned again in a way that a child would when talking about their best friend. "I liked him since I met him."

"Really? I know you're not the biggest fan of magic either…"

"No, I'm not." Farkas nodded. "But I know when it's useful and Vincent has only used it to further the glory of the companions. He's a friend to me and that means something." Vilkas suddenly felt his stomach burn slightly and his jaw tightened slightly. How was his brother such good friends with Vincent? He grumbled under his breath at the not-so-alien feeling and scolded himself for ever feeling it. Farkas instantly took notice, however. "Vilkas?"

Vilkas locked eyes with his brother and grumped out a "what?"

"Are you jealous?"

"No."

Farkas laughed. "You're lying to me."

Stupid twin telepathy…

"I said, no."

"Vilkas. You have nothing to be jealous about. Vincent and I talk but I have no interest in him. Rest assured dear brother, your love is safe from me." He winked and took a large gulp of his mead. Vilkas suddenly wanted to slap him for his stupidity but the burning feeling in his gut ebbed away at Farkas' words. He trusted his brother more then anyone and knew he'd never lie about something like this. He just wished he would stop going on about this 'love' business.

"What about the situation, then?"

"well, I think you and Vincent need to talk. It's like the two of you are dancing around each other just waiting for the other to pounce." He laughed a bit loudly. "It's painful to watch sometimes."

"Talk about what?" Vilkas snapped, a bit annoyed that his brother was laughing.

"Your feelings. Gee, Vilkas and they call me stupid."

"You are stupid." Vilkas huffed. "Unless I'm speaking with you, you know I don't talk about those things."

"I know, but you have to talk to him about it. Nothing will get better unless you do."

"True…but-"

"Buts are for sitting, brother." Farkas remarked and emptied his tankard. "I may have ice for brains but I can be smart sometimes. Trust me. Vincent wants to talk to you too."

"How do you know all this?" Vilkas' eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion.

"When I went on that mission with him, we had time to talk…" Farkas' smile faltered for a moment and most people wouldn't be able to catch it but his twin could.

"Farkas…?"

Farkas' grin had come back as if it hadn't left. "Yeah?"

"What did you and Vincent talk about?"

"I told you once, I think. We talked about you and how Vincent liked you. Which is how I know!" He finished abruptly.

"You're not telling me something." Farkas chuckled and shook his head. Vilkas' eyes narrowed further as he inspected his brother. He really was a horrible liar. "Farkas…out with it."

Farkas' smile faltered again and Vilkas was sure that just for a moment he saw a guilty look cross Farkas' face. "Vincent he…he's…"

"He's what?"

"He's…sick."

"Aye, I know. Did he tell you what he was sick with?"

Farkas' lips pulled into a straight line and his eyes flickered away. Vilkas suddenly felt his anger start to build. Farkas knew! He knew this whole time and he hadn't told him?!

"Vilkas…look…"

"What is he sick with Farkas?" There was a warning tone to his voice. "Do not lie to me."

"It's not for me to tell, brother."

Vilkas huffed. "Why's that?"

"Vincent asked me not to tell you." his big shoulder's drooped.

"What? Why?"

"He didn't want you to hate him. Only Kodlak and I know."

"Kodlak knows?!"

Farkas nodded. "I'm sorry brother."

Vilkas reached across the table and gripped his brother's wrist tightly. "Tell me."

"I can't."

"Farkas…" he practically growled. "Tell. ME."

"I can't!" Farkas pulled his wrist away. "I promised Vincent I wouldn't tell you. If you want the answer, then go to Vincent for it. He must trust you enough to tell you now."

Vilkas bolted up, abandoning his mead and stormed out into the rain. He heard Farkas scramble to follow him but he paid it no head and stomped toward Jorrvaskr.

"Vilkas! Stop!"

Vilkas ignored his brother's call and got to the stone steps before he was grabbed. He instantly ripped his arm away from his brother's grip.

"Vilkas!"

Vilkas turned and glared at him. "What?!" he shouted, louder then intended.

Farkas looked lost for a moment, almost like when they were kids again. "Forgive me."

Vilkas stared at him with a scowl for a long while, the rain soaking them both to the bone. His brother had those big dumb puppy eyes as he stared up at Vilkas. He had always used those eyes when they were kids to get out of trouble with Jergen. Vilkas hadn't been so lucky. His eyes had always been cold, calculated and brimming with intelligence. He didn't do the big dumb puppy look that his brother could.

Vilkas sighed and felt the rage rush out of him in a big wave. He could never stay mad at Farkas…especially when he hadn't done anything wrong. Yet there was a small lingering resentment deep down that hated being deceived, especially by his own twin. A promise was a promise though, and Vilkas just couldn't stay mad, even if he had wanted to.

"It's not your fault." Vilkas spoke and watched Farkas carefully. "You were just keeping a promise. I AM going to have words with Vincent and you WILL stay out of it. Understand?"

Farkas nodded. "Don't be too mean to him. He was really worried about what you think of him."

"Is that right?" Vilkas looked about the landscape, bitterly.

" I think he loves you too."

Vilkas didn't want to admit it but his heart hammered faster at his brother's words. He almost felt sick but it wasn't in the way that illness made him feel. His jaw clenched and unclenched at the feeling. "In order for him to love me too, I'd have to love him first."

Farkas finally smiled again. "Right…You'll deny this forever, won't you?"

"Aye." He just turned away and stepped back inside the shelter that Jorrvaskr provided.

He noticed that something was instantly wrong. It was too quiet in the common room for this time of day. When Vilkas and Farkas had left that afternoon, the hall had been filled with drinking and merriment. Now, not even two hours later, it was nearly dead with only one occupant. Ria was the only one in the hall and her eyes were slightly puffy and red. She was trembling in place like a leaf caught in a stiff breeze. Farkas instantly rushed to her side and exchanged soft words with her that Vilkas couldn't hear. She looked on the verge of tears, as she whispered in his brother's ear and Vilkas felt his rough mask soften slightly in concern. Farkas suddenly looked up at Vilkas with wide eyes.

"Vincent is downstairs."

Vilkas did not need to be told twice. He booked it down the stairs, almost tripping in his haste but catching himself on the door. He could hear Ria bursting in hysterical sobs behind him and it made his heart catch in his throat. He swung the door open and left it as such as he bolted into the living areas. It was quiet here. Too quiet and it made Vilkas uneasy. He smelt the air and found it thick with blood. He felt like he couldn't breathe for a moment as panic began to set in. There was the slightest hint of that fiery smell that accompanied Vincent, coming from the circle's living quarters. Vilkas took a guess and ran to his room. Preying to whatever Gods that were watching or listening that Vincent would be there.

Vincent was there and had his back to Vilkas. His coat was off and he was sitting in the middle of the floor. Vilkas caught the sight of pastel colors in Vincent's lap and Vincent appeared to be sewing. Vilkas could see a bandage over where his mate mark was and bandages decorating his right wrist when he moved the needle back to resume a stitch. He was hurt…! Vilkas took a step inside and was suddenly stricken with the smell of death. Vilkas recoiled slightly from the stench.

"Vincent…?"

Vincent's head instantly spun in his direction. His eyes, much like Ria's, were puffy and red. When their gaze met, tears welled up in the mage's eyes and he dropped his project. Vilkas saw that Vincent's normally pastel colored coat was now matted with browns, waterlogged damage and deep reds. He watched the mage get to his feet and dash into Vilkas arms, hugging his middle tightly. Vincent still smelt of fire, but he was soaked clean through, much as Vilkas was. They must have hard marched back to Jorrvaskr in the rain. The smell of death was fainter and seemed to linger more on Vincent's coat then on the mage himself.

He heard Vincent mutter something against his chest before a choking sob cut him off. So Vilkas put a hand in his hair and stroked with as much comfort as he could offer. "What did you say?"

"S-Skjor…" Vincent's voice was raspy as if he was loosing his voice.

"What happened?" Vilkas tried lifting Vincent's chin so he could gaze into his eyes. He did easily enough but Vincent's eyes were shut as hot tears rolled down his cheeks.

"He's dead!" Vincent managed to choke out between a sob, his voice harsh like stones rubbing together. "They killed him! They cut him open like a goddamn fish and o-oh gods!" He buried his face in Vilkas' neck and sobbed like a child. He clung to Vilkas as if he were a life line as his smaller body wracked with despair.

Vilkas heard his words and felt…cold. He only felt hollow as the harsh realization fell over his subconscious. He sunk to his knees and brought Vincent with him to the floor. The Mage did not resist the pull, nor seemed to realize that they had moved at all. There, he held the mage just as tight and let him cry. The questions of Vincent's illness were instantly forgotten, gone with the tides and all that mattered to Vilkas right now was holding him.

It was still raining a day later. It was not as harsh as it had been the day before but it was still coming down with no sign of stopping. The remaining circle and Kodlak had gathered up to the Skyforge for Skjor's funeral. The others had already stopped by and paid their respects and now only they remained. Vilkas had dressed in his best wolf armor and polished his sword until it shown like the sun. Vincent was beside him dressed in his now cleaned and stitched up coat. his normally bright eyes were now downcast and hollow as he stared into Skjor's pyre.

Vilkas hadn't looked at Skjor before today. Although, Vincent had updated Vilkas in the 'condition' they had found Skjor in. It seems Aela and Vincent had found his jaw and wolf armor and had dawned him with them before letting everyone see the body. The jaw was detached so Aela had covered up the sight with a crimson red cloth, adorned with the seal of the companions.

Vilkas glanced at Vincent but the Mage didn't seem to notice. His eyes were distant and haunted. Vilkas had felt the sobbing man through out the night and listened to his sorrows. He blamed himself it seemed, even though Aela had told him that the fault was not his own. When they had awoke the next day, Vincent's voice was gone completely, although Vilkas wasn't surprised. He'd apparently screamed himself hoarse when he'd found Skjor. Vilkas couldn't blame him for that. To find a man he knew as a friend in such a grotesque and horribly demeaning way, was enough to make anyone loose it.

Vilkas didn't know why he did it, but his hand tensed at his side before reaching out and taking Vincent's gloved hand. His fingers were limp for a moment before they twitched to life and gave Vilkas' hand a squeeze in recognition. Vincent did not look at Vilkas however, and stayed fixed upon the dead body of Skjor.

Vilkas tore his eyes from the mage to glance at the other members of their collective. Farkas stood respectfully straight but his face was that of a kicked puppy. Aela was standing strong and detrained. Her face was hard as if she had just fought in a war and her fists were clenched at her sides. Kodlak was carrying a torch and donned in his normal wolf armor. His tired expression showed his age and his brow was furrowed with concerned lines. Eventually Kodlak cleared his throat and stepped between the circle and the body of Skjor.

"Today, we send of a great man. A man whom we all cherished and respected. The Gods weep for our Shield brother this day as do we all. Today, we say goodbye to our beloved brother and friend. " Kodlak glanced at the gathered circle and stopped on Aela. "Aela, would you like to do the honors?"

"Yes, I would." She stepped up and took the torch from him. Kodlak nodded and took the place near Farkas. He laid a heavy hand on Farkas shoulder and tried to smile in a fatherly way. Vilkas saw Farkas' lips twitch upward just for a moment to let Kodlak know that he was okay. Then all eyes were on Aela.

It took her a moment to move toward the pyre but her jaw tightened and her courage raised. She stepped toward his body until she was at the base of the pyre and stared down into the face of the man she knew so well. She leaned down and in a surprising display of affection, leaned down and kissed his forehead. Vilkas felt Vincent's hand tighten at the display and Vilkas squeezed back.

"Goodbye, my love." she whispered the words against his cold dead flesh but everyone had heard. Not one commented or showed emotion at the statement. They all just marveled in her strength and she shed not a single tear and lit his pyre aflame. She blew the torch out and walked down the steps of the Skyforge.

"Aela?" Kodlak called after her. There was an edge of concern on his voice.

She didn't even turn around to answer him. "I'm going to run and hunt in his honor. I will be back tonight." Then she resumed walking, looking determinedly ahead of her and did not glance back once.

Kodlak and Farkas were the next to leave. They both decided they needed a strong drink and retired to the hall for a cup. When they were gone, Vilkas squeezed Vincent's hand again and the Mage finally looked up at him.

He looked frail standing there. His face was weary, as if he'd just climbed a mountain. However there was an odd look in Vincent's eyes. One that overshadowed the sorry and the guilt that was also within those copper orbs. It was anger. Pure and unadulterated anger. He'd never seen that look on the mage before. He'd only caught a glimpse of it when Vincent had brought up that man 'Cadrian.' Now, he saw that seething hatred in full force and Vilkas was honestly taken aback.

"Vincent…?"

Vincent's lips twitched at the sound of his name and he seemed to expel breath that he had been holding. "Yes?" His voice was still rough and it sounded painful. He didn't even sound like the same man.

Vilkas couldn't think of anything to say now. He wanted to ask if the Mage was okay but they both knew the answer to that already. So he just pulled on his hand and tried leading him away from the pyre. To his relief, Vincent followed without a fight but his eyes lingered on the flame, hatred still burning deep within them. On the wind, Vilkas heard that scratchy whisper accompanied by the tightening of Vincent's fingers interlocked with his own.

"they will pay for this. I swear it…"

It was so soft that Vilkas wasn't sure he'd actually heard it but he paid the comment no heed for now. Vincent had every right to hate the silver hand for this. He would not slight the mage on thoughts of vengeance. Vilkas sighed and looked up, getting a face full of rain water for his efforts. He didn't care for the moment and let the cold rain run against his warm face. He noted ironically that this is the longest he'd ever held someone's hand and all it took was a beloved friend's death in order to accomplish it.

"It wasn't your fault." Vilkas finally spoke and felt Vincent jump at his voice.

"What?"

Vilas grimaced at the noise his mate made. "don't talk and just listen."

He turned to Vincent, who's face had slowly become a blank slate. He saw that the anger had faded from Vincent's eyes and now there was just cold emptiness. Vilkas wasn't sure if he preferred the hatred over this. What he wouldn't give to see his eyes light up again…but he knew Vincent needed time.

Vincent nodded, probably relived to relax his throat.

"After what you told me, I talked to Aela. The blame was not yours. Skjor shouldn't have charged in there the way he had and the only fault lies on foolish choices. So don't you dare blame yourself."

Vincent's mouth pulled into a straight line as his gaze flicked downward to the dirt. He just nodded mutely.

Vilkas took a step forward, his hand still locked with his mage and felt Vincent stiffen up at the close contact. His posture soon relaxed and he breathed a heavy sigh. Only when Vincent relaxed, did Vilkas lift his free hand and cup Vincent's chin. He lifted so they could make eye contact. Copper met ice and all the understanding in all of Nirn was between them. Their lips touched, cold from the rain but warmed quickly and either knew how long they stayed that way.

Short chapter, I know but please forgive me.