Autumn of 4E 185, Whiterun
He was exhausted. Sometimes Embla would not allow him to return - she would drag him around the wilderness for the whole day, next time for two and sometimes she made it a week.
Skjor didn't mind at all.
He just gave him more training and beat his ass in a sparring match.
And the next day, Embla would drag him out again.
At least he had time to draw in his book and take notes on various creatures of his homeland.
As long as he could keep it hidden from Embla. The moment he heard the silent rustling of her approach, he hid the book in a small enchanted pouch he was able to purchase for his part of the rewards.
"Nothing in that direction. Did you find anything?"
He pointed towards a half eaten rabbit left in the brush. "Troll killed that. Some broken branches in there. And no squirrels around."
Embla nodded.
"Good. You go that way, I'll follow up this tiny trail. Give me a bird call if you find anything. Don't fight it alone."
With that, she was gone. Only a few rustling leaves indicated where she headed. Vilkas quietly sighed and went on his way. The troll would either be in its lair or making the rounds, looking for food to forage and kill. Or water. There probably was a good water source nearby, and Embla wanted him to find it.
Looking for the tell-tale signs of water, he climbed the slope. The hills here started rising to a full on mountain range, on the top of which Bleak Falls Barrow sat.
There. Soft whispering noise led him to a small stream, cascading down the slope. He followed it upwards, taking care to make the least amount of noise possible.
He really didn't want to bump into a troll.
The end of the slope became visible before him. He slowed down, lowered himself to the ground and snuck up. The air was thick with smells of the forest, wet ground, rotting leaves, fresh ones falling on the ground, water and mushrooms.
His head got over the slope.
There was a little pool in a small flat area. The trees nearest to it were willows. Their silvery green leaves mostly turned to burning amber, contrasting sharply to the cedars in the back.
He froze.
There was a circle of spriggans in the pool.
They were gently swaying to an unknown rhythm. And….singing? He closed his eyes and turned his head to hear better.
There indeed was something like voices amidst the usual buzzing.
He opened his eyes again. The spriggans were still peacefully swaying and singing in the water. All of them were looking in the same direction…
It took him a little bit to find out what was there. At first, the spot looked just like a pile of rocks. But then he spotted a slightly differently colored spot. And shaped. Almost like the bottom of a paw…
The shape immediately popped up once he had a starting point. A huge cat was lounging on the other end of the pool, eyes closed.
Wait a moment…
Wasn't it?
No.
It couldn't.
But…it was. The peculiarly colored coat was the same, that of a wrothgarian leopard.
How did it end up here? They were so far from the Reach, and even that was quite the distance from their usual habitat, at least from what he had been able to find out.
The leopard opened its eyes.
The spriggans stopped moving.
The leopard made a noise, something between a meow and deep grumble, and jumped into the pool. Its paws, submerged in water, began glowing with magicka, gently, but enough for Vilkas to see.
The leopard walked into the center of the spriggan circle and stopped. The spriggans, one after another, bent down to pet the cat. As their branchy fingers rustled through the spotted fur, little sparks of magicka danced around, only to sit on the spriggans' bark.
There were so many sparks the bark of every single spriggan turned to a shimmering branch of night sky for a brief moment.
A loud bird call tore through the air.
The spriggans turned their heads like one.
Vilkas winced.
As he did, his eyes closed, just for a single, fleeting moment. In that moment, he heard a distant, low grumble of a large cat.
His eyes opened.
The leopard was gone.
The spriggans remained present, standing alert in the water. The only evidence of what he had just witnessed was just a slight sheen to their bark, slowly seeping inside.
The bird call resounded again.
He quietly slid down, snuck away a little bit more and then hurried in the direction of Embla's summons.
XXX
"But how can a cat use magic? They don't have fingers," Farkas scratched his chin.
Vilkas sighed.
The brothers were sitting at the hill with Skyforge, watching the sun set over the plains of Whiterun.
"You don't need fingers for magic," he groaned. "At least not always. Remember the ice wraiths?"
"Oh yea. Got nasty frostbite from fighting those. Oh and the spiky things they made ripped my cloak. I liked that cloak," he grumbled.
"Well, those don't have fingers and do magic."
"True," Farkas acquiesced after a while of pondering. "You think it was something like that?"
"Maybe. I asked Kodlak, and he told me a little bit about old spirits. Sure sounds like one."
"Old spirits? Like the spirits of the land? I heard that old hunter dude rant about that. Ya know, the one who says Nords are not Nords anymore?"
"Aye."
They grew quiet.
"Maybe you should go ask him," Farkas commented after another long contemplation.
"Nah. He would want to kill it. I heard him rant about the trials too."
"You don't want to kill it?"
"No!" Vilkas turned away, upset.
"Well, why don't you just go there again? Bring it some food? What do spirit cats eat? Everyone loves food, right?"
No answer came from Vilkas.
Farkas scratched his chin again. He grinned. "Do you want to make it your pet?"
"What are you on about?" Vilkas poked him in the ribs.
"Well, maybe then girls would like you more," Farkas laughed.
"You ass, who has time for girls…"
"I do," Farkas shrugged. "I kissed Imelda just yesterday. It was damn nice, ya know. You should try."
"Wasn't it Helga last week?"
Farkas made a dismissive motion with his hand. "She got angry at me for talking to Olina."
Vilkas leaned back on his hands to look up at the darkening sky. "Understandable."
"I was just talking to her!"
"The problem is, with you, it never ends in just talking, that's why they're angry," Vilkas grimaced. "Though I do not understand why they are angry just about other girls, since I've seen you kissing Erik too."
"I was not meant to be tied down," Farkas smiled.
"Why do you stay here, then?"
"I don't feel tied," Farkas shrugged. "I feel free, wandering, fighting, drinking and kissing all the girls." He rolled some thoughts in his head. "And the pretty boys."
Vilkas stayed silent. His chest felt heavy, and he wished he could live with the ease his brother did. But, at least, Farkas was happy.
He smiled. That was important.
"Good for you, then."
"Yea. Good for me." He leaned back too. "But what about you?"
"I'm content," Vilkas forced a smile. "I would do with less of Skjor's nagging."
"Ha! Who wouldn't."
"Well well well," a voice resounded from behind. They both jumped to their feet, spinning to face the newcomers.
"What did I hear? Are the pups angry about being trained? Are they barking and disrespecting the leader?"
A group of five recruits came up and backed them against the cliff of the forge. All young men, about three or so years older than the twins.
"There are no leaders amongst Companions," Vilkas growled. These five were the ones enjoying Skjor's torment of the twins the most. Big, burly, rowdy and not the best at fighting, but also not bad enough to be kicked out.
"Maybe, but you are still a disrespectful brat with no skill," Bornolf, the leader of the bunch, grinned maliciously.
His second in command, Torir, exploded in anger. "And you little dumb fuck are stealing all the girls!"
Bornolf clicked his tongue. Torir immediately backed away, obedient like a trained dog.
"The thing is," Bornolf continued, "both of you deserve a beating."
As the words left his mouth, the others charged, screaming what they thought would be good battle cries.
Vilkas and Farkas moved in unison.
Quietly, efficiently, with precision.
Farkas had hit his growth spurt so wildly, he was almost as tall as the older recruits. He shoulder rammed the closest opponent.
As he did, Vilkas attacked soft spots Embla had shown him.
Quick jab to the throat. Elbow to the stomach, twist slightly, avoid the other guy's swing, back Farkas and kick another assailant in the shin.
He blocked an attack. He really felt the size difference there.
Another recruit managed to hit his side. Farkas spun around and delivered a devastating blow to the head. Vilkas had staggered, but spotting a hit coming his way he lowered himself more.
He sprung up. Quick jab to the lower part of the throat made Bornolf choke and back away.
Farkas grunted after suffering a heavy hit to the stomach.
Vilkas switched targets to the attacker, beating down on him like a rabid dog.
Someone landed a kick that sent Vilkas to the ground. He rolled away from another kick. Landed a hit at the back of someone's knee.
His head exploded with pain.
Farkas screamed somewhere in the background.
A hand pushed him even more to the ground. "Know your place," a voice hissed in his ear.
And then the kicking came.
XXX
When Eorlund came to the Skyforge at sunrise, he was stunned.
Thorald, following closely behind, bumped into him. "Dad, what's wrong?"
"Those idiots," the smith hissed under his breath. "Come help me, Thorald. You pick Vilkas," he hurried forward.
"Wha…oh."
"Be careful with him," Eorlund warned as he gently scooped Farkas up. "They're done up pretty bad."
Thorald picked up the unconscious body. Vilkas was beaten bloody and cold, oh so cold.
The young man didn't feel too comfortable with the youth's weight on him, so he hurried after Eorlund striding angrily towards the temple of Kynareth.
XXX
"They were almost dead, Harbinger," Danica, the head priestess of the temple, hissed at Kodlak. "Just a bit later and we wouldn't be able to save them."
Her apprentices, two novice girls, were standing behind her and looking at the tips of their shoes. They had helped Danica with the healing and now had mixed feelings about the Companions.
Especially Imelda.
But the Harbinger was still the Harbinger.
Kodlak sighed. "I'll deal with it."
"Will you?" Danica crossed her arms. "You and yours have been pretty neglectful at raising the two. You should have just left them with us if you weren't interested in childcare."
"I will deal with it," Kodlak cut off.
"Do that," Danica didn't back down. "If you don't, I will interfere."
XXX
Early winter 4E 185, Falkreath hold
"Happy?"
Falco, sitting by the fireplace, his eyes narrowed in contentment like a cat's, nodded.
Bjorn grinned. "It's so easy to please you."
"It's not," Falco retorted jokingly, "don't you remember? I told you I am high maintenance and I stand by it."
Bjorn scooted over to him. "Oh I remember," he whispered into Falco's ear, "and I have plans for tonight."
Falco's olive skin reddened.
"Easy to please you," Bjorn purred in a deeper voice, "because I know exactly what turns your buttons. You make such sweet noises-"
A cough from the entrance stopped him mid-sentence. While Falco froze up, Bjorn didn't have problems reacting.
"What do you need, o spirit?"
"The preparations are finished. You said you wanted to see." Mori looked completely unperturbed by witnessing what she just did.
Falco finally defrosted. "Can you really do that with magic?"
"I can't," Mori turned and invited them to follow, "but Yvaine can."
Both men hurried after her.
They didn't have to go far. Just beyond the house, in a corner of the kitchen area, Yvaine stood waiting for them. She was clutching her Tiber doll, strangely eerie against the runework on the cliff behind her.
Mori stepped next to her, squeezed her shoulder and said a few words in Reachspeech.
Yvaine nodded.
She went over to Falco. "Please," she reached out her hands, holding Tiber.
He accepted.
Yvaine turned around. She walked to her runes and sat down. In her little voice, she began chanting strange, rough words. One by one, the runes lit up. Yvaine's chanting seamlessly slid into singing and her arms started moving in a slow pattern.
A deep rumble rose from inside the cliff. The ground started shaking.
Yvaine opened her eyes, aglow with the gold-red light of molten earth.
She spoke. "Athrú."
High pitched screech tore the air. Yvaine moved her fingers, directing the stone. As she did, the cliff parted.
The screeching turned into rumbling and scraping of stone moving against stone. The stone followed her movements - Yvaine dug in, the stone deepened and made a cave. She then followed with a smooth scoop, taking the excess stone and making it into a little hallway connecting to the house.
In the end, she spread the stone into the house's walls, moving the human built construction in accordance to make an entrance.
When all of the mass settled comfortably and the dirt stopped flying, Yvaine's tune changed into a lull. Her hands slowly lowered, resting in her lap. The deep, resonant rumbles of the earth quietened, the shaking stopped and the world stilled.
Yvaine closed her eyes again.
"Dul a chodladh," she whispered.
The runes dissipated into nothingness. The world took a breath. And everything was as it should be once more.
When Yvaine opened her eyes, they were once more the color of the frozen ocean depths.
XXX
"Is it good?" the girl was skipping around Falco and Bjorn. "Do you like it?"
"Good job," Bjorn managed to get out. They stood in awe, looking into their brand new cellar, built right into the cliff.
She didn't even look tired.
"How?" Falco finally found his voice.
Yvaine stopped skipping. "With magic. Didn't you see? The runes make it easier." She tilted her head. "Blood runes would be better, though."
"Blood runes?" the men turned as one, eyes wide.
The little girl shrugged. "Paint with blood. Are you silly? What else could it be," she clicked her tongue.
"Human blood?"
"It is powerful. But Mori doesn't like that. She usually brings me an animal to use." Yvaine rubbed her chin. "Orgoch didn't mind."
"Use only enemies' blood," Mori interjected. "No innocents."
"I know, I know. You'd think I was the silly one, right, Tiber?" she patted her doll happily. "I'm not silly, you are silly," she stuck her tongue out at everyone included and then, giggling, ran outside.
XXX
Look, I like Kodlak, but he doesn't strike me as someone who would know how to raise children and keep healthy environment with rowdy teenagers. Adults, hell yeah. But rowdy teens? Nah. Add to it the trouble of the Companions struggling after the War. In the game they allow someone from the outside to completely run their finances. So there's no one to do it efficiently ,really. He's not good at it, he's got his plate full with administration, disaster. Doesn't mean he's a bad person ;)
