Fate's Games

(A/N: In response to a reviewer's request, I actually did plan to do one with those two, so you can expect one eventually. First up today.)

Wisdom

She loved him. She knew it, he knew it. Everyone knew it, so why did they continue denying it? Fear, apprehension, stubbornness? Truth be told she'd never met anyone quite like him. He was confusing, intelligent enough to keep it that way, next to impossible to figure out. She wanted to know, though. Goodness knew how much… But did he love her? Did he even know how to love? Was he too far gone, lost in a world of his own? No, she couldn't believe that. She wouldn't believe that. After all, he was here with her now.

She looked beside her in the bed. He slept soundly. She moved over to him and gently began to rub his chest. "Wake up," she sang softly. "Come on." He groaned and turned from her. She shook him lightly. He rolled onto his back and looked sleepily over, blinking innocently. Innocence… the last word you would think to put to one who knew from childhood that innocence wouldn't last. It had always been the last emotion he dared display to anyone. Absently his hand went to her cheek, tenderly cupping it. She smiled softly. He smirked and drew his hand away, sitting up. She watched quietly. So many things he tried to bury away, pain, weakness, mourning… She remembered the night she had seen it all; the night he revealed to her what he had hidden for so long ago…

ES

"Are you not coming?" the Dragonborn had asked his shield sibling as she watched their exchange from behind.

He'd answered softly, "Kodlak was right. I let vengeance rule my heart. I regret nothing of what we did at Driftshade. But I can't go any further with my mind fogged or my heart grieved."

The Dragonborn had taken it at face value, but she had wondered. I let vengeance rule my heart… But didn't they all? She had not been innocent of such a fault. After Skor's death… Oh vengeance ruled her that day. How it did. Why, then, did it so affect him? I can't go any further with my mind fogged, or my heart grieved. Vilkas, we all have grieved, we all still do. Why do you look so sad, so pained? Why must all the guilt and misery and responsibility fall solely on you? Let us share in it, my friend, my dear one. Let all of us share… But he wouldn't be deterred, no matter how the Dragonborn pled with his friend. So they left him behind, and her mind never did stay completely on their journey through the tomb.

ES

He sat there on the ledge, just sat silently, looking down at the burning blue flame. She stood in front of it trying hard to ignore his grieved gaze. She turned to look up at him. He feared this gift they shared. He believed it was a curse, but how could something so powerful be a curse? Why did he seem to understand so much more about everything than she had even begun to realize? He was tired, she saw. How long had he looked so worn, she wondered? Blessed with the wisdom and intelligence of Ysgramor, cursed with it. And she knew how his wisdom was another curse. He was bitter, cold, hardened…

But she saw tears shining in his eyes. They wouldn't fall. They never did… Rarely did. Farkas had claimed to see him weep before, but only Farkas. After a time she'd stopped believing it. Until now… Now she saw a silvery tear slide down his cheek. Still his gaze stayed on the flame and still her heart shattered piece by piece watching him. Finally she couldn't take it. She moved quietly towards him. He hardly spared her a glance before looking back at the flame, always the flame. Look into another's eyes, Vilkas, for once; and do not turn away with disgust or disdain. See that someone who loves you so much is hurting for you.

"Are you alright?" she questioned softly, kneeling next to him.

"Are any of us?" he asked in return.

"Please, look at me," she begged. Begged? She didn't beg! She'd never begged!

He tensed then turned slowly, eyes so filled with wisdom, intelligence, and understanding, that she felt he could stare right into her soul. After a long moment he said, "We are cursed. There is no way around it. We are cursed. Just, some handle it better." She was silent. Part of her wanted to argue but the other part wanted to burst into tears and hold him so tightly that all their pain would be washed away; all his pain. "I want to be free…" he suddenly added, and her resolved crumbled.

ES

Gently she turned him to face her and gazed into his eyes. "You are a slave only if you choose to be one," she declared.

He raised an eyebrow and for a moment she saw a hint of respect and awe. Quickly he hid it behind his mask again. He gently placed his hand over hers and held it, drawing it away from his face. He never let go, though. She gazed at it seemingly fascinated. His hand was rough, dry, strong, yet in a way gentle and tender. She found herself wondering what it would be like to feel him draw his fingers through her hair, across her face. She froze mid-thought and cursed herself for even thinking such a thing. It was inappropriate here. Now was not the time for such thoughts.

She saw him smirk, eyes becoming amused. Was she blushing? He chuckled and she inwardly cursed again. She had to be. There was no hope hiding it again, however, when his hand went to her cheek, caressing it lightly; when it slid into her hair and combed it softly back. Then there was pity, and she was aware she was weeping silently, tears falling from her eyes. But he leaned forward and softly pressed his lips to her forehead. Her lips parted gently and she didn't know whether it was Skor and Kodlak she wept for or him.

He knew, though, and he whispered, "You are afraid, Aela. Afraid that somehow you will lose me, that I will slip away."

"I'm not afraid. I'm never afraid," she protested.

"Don't lie to me," he pled with her. She could have spit at herself for even trying.

ES

She looked up into his eyes, tears once more coming. "You will die… You will do some harm to yourself, I am terrified you will. The way you gaze into those flames… Your eyes shine when you face death, as if you challenge it, call out to it, welcome it. They become so dark, so frightening, whenever you are content and safe, and it is as if you want to die. Vilkas… I don't want you to die. Don't leave me too."

She was silenced when suddenly lips were pressed to hers, firm and loving. After a moment he pulled back leaving her gaping like a fool. "Perhaps… Perhaps there are times I have welcomed death, but there are times when I fear it. Death comes to all men in their due time, but I will challenge it until the end, and I will embrace it. But there is more to embrace in life than death."

"Like what?" she questioned.

"Like love," he answered. Softly he took her lips again and she melted into his arms. Now, as they lay next to each other, she knew… He would not leave her without.