"Why do you keep looking up?"
"Just bird watching," Vilkas answered absent-mindedly.
Erika scoffed, but let it be. Birds were boring.
Farkas gave his brother a thoughtful look. But, since Deirdre decided to travel with their group, he didn't pay that much attention.
XXX
As they camped, Vilkas did another lookover.
There she was. A white crow, sitting in branches high above their heads. He had seen her follow them throughout their journey.
Not wanting to raise suspicions, he turned away. Farkas and Deirdre were basically glued together. Him and Erika made their sleeping spots on the other side of the camp.
"Taking that potion again?" Erika looked at Vilkas adding a drop of strangely blue liquid to his tea.
"Only until we have to sleep near them," Vilkas grumbled, motioning over to the other side of the campsite.
"Are you sure she's not poisoning you? She's pretty weird."
"Weird, aye. Poisoning me? Not likely. She's a little bit too obsessed with her mystery sister liking me."
"What if there is no sister?"
Vilkas shrugged, resisting the urge to look at the white crow. "Then good for me, I get protective effigies and some Reach magic for candy."
"You're awfully trusting towards the witches. That doesn't seem like you."
"We'd be dead without them."
"That's true."
XXX
Late summer, 4E 188, Riverwood
"Can you take my horse? I want to make a detour," Vilkas asked Farkas.
"Sure I can," Farkas took the reins. "Are you going to your newly favourite mountain range?"
"Maybe."
"What was that about the mountain range?" Erika popped in. "Are you seriously considering climbing over that?" she pointed towards the Bleak Falls mountains on the horizon.
"Aye. I used to train there with Embla. I like going there."
"Right. He likes going there. For climbing and walking. Leave the man be, Erika," Farkas grabbed her by the shoulder and gently, but firmly led her away.
Vilkas bade them farewell and turned left on the road beyond the bridge. He walked it to a certain height on the range, then turned a different direction and followed a small footpath deeper into the forest.
From time to time he caught a glimpse of white feathers.
XXX
Few days later
He finally made it to the pool. The spriggan trees were as calm as always, their long hair-like branches swaying with the gentle breeze.
He sat down by the pool. The sun felt warm on his skin, so he just enjoyed it and waited.
In about half an hour, wings fluttered and the white crow landed on a rock not too far away from him.
"Hello," he smiled at her. "You wanted to see me? Otherwise you wouldn't let me catch glimpses, no?"
She ruffled her feathers, then cocked her head at him. Her eyes were onyx, not blue or red. He had no doubt who this was.
"Thank you for the help," he looked away to not make her nervous. "I brought you something."
In the corner of his eye, he could see her hopping slightly closer, intrigued. Ah, they ARE sisters, he smiled for himself. He rummaged through his satchel and pulled a paper bag out. It was only halfway full by now, but still a good amount of candy remained.
Honey based candy. He put it on the ground as far from himself as he could.
I do hope Yvaine was right about her liking honey.
"It's all yours." He grew quiet and watched her hop around, investigating the bag with her beak.
After she was finished, she looked at him again and cawed. She stayed near the paper bag.
I'll take that as her liking it.
"I was wondering...could I see you sometime? How often do you come here?"
She looked at him with the other eye this time.
"Ah. Apologies. Sadly I do not know crow speech." He sighed. "It's not like I can come at any time anyway. I have to take jobs."
She hopped around a little, then stopped in front of him. She tilted her head again. And then she said a word. Clearly, understandably, in an adorable squeaky crow voice.
It was a reachspeech word. Vilkas roughly knew what it meant - the start of a new month.
Did she pick the crow form for that purpose this time? Did she allow me to spot her to tell me that?
Vilkas' mind was racing, a strange sensation rising in his chest.
"I will see what I can do about getting here at the start of every month," he forced his voice to sound as calm as possible.
She nodded. Then she hopped over to the paper bag to peck at the candy again.
Vilkas watched her, not noticing the gentle smile sneaking on his lips.
XXX
He was leaving.
Mori didn't want him to leave. But she also found herself unable to stop him. Or even reveal her true form.
Her heart would freeze every time she considered it.
She watched him descend down the slope. When he was far enough, she turned back to a woman. She snatched the candy. She pulled one piece out and carefully put it in her mouth.
Her eyes widened.
It started with a gentle, warm taste of honey, but then the refreshing bite of frostiness arrived. It made her feel like sitting by the fire on a winter morning, watching gentle snowfall.
There WERE advantages to the settled life.
She finished her candy, then stuffed the bag into her small magic pouch. She shifted back to a crow's form, grabbed the pouch and took flight.
As she flew, she found his figure on the mountain slope. She followed from a distance.
Not that far for him not to catch a glimpse of her sometimes, though.
XXX
Mori accompanied him all the way to Whiterun. Once the door of the mead hall closed behind him, she ruffled her feathers.
It was probably time to return to Lakeview.
She must be growing soft.
She took to the air, making course back home.
XXX
Lakeview, a few days later
Falco and Yvaine were waiting for her in Yvaine's garden.
It made her feel warm inside.
Is it so bad to be soft?
She landed. As her feet touched the ground, she changed forms, straightening up as a woman.
Falco smiled and handed her her favourite home clothes - easy to put on, flowy and warm. "I'm glad to see you."
She gave a shy smile. "I am too."
"Are you staying for a while?"
"Yes."
His smile widened. "Great! I'll go tell Greta, she will be happy to see you."
Falco left. Yvaine grabbed Mori's hand and made a sly face. "Did he give you honey sweets?"
"Hush," Mori reprimanded, but not harshly.
"You shouldn't be so shy," Yvaine continued as they walked into the manor. "He's really nice, once you get used to that sour face."
"If you continue like this, I will not share the tale I have heard a bard practice in the woods," Mori frowned, seemingly stern. "It had dragons."
"Dragons?" Yvaine's eyes almost popped out. "Noo, no, Moriii, I won't say a word more, just tell me the tale!"
"Alright," Mori grinned. "Before bed, then."
"Yay!"
They turned the corner and walked into Bjorn. Mori's smile melted away.
He looked nervous. He opened his mouth a few times, but no words came out. In the end, he sighed and produced a weaved basket. It was full of hazelnuts, cracked and peeled.
"I got these for you," was all he said.
"Thank you," Mori's frown faded away. She knew the man. This was as close to an apology she would get. And he took the care to collect and clean the nuts she liked the most to make milk out of.
She smiled and accepted the basket. "Don't be a dick next time."
"Can't make any big promises," he grumbled.
They had dinner together. Great food, laughter and warm drinks. Mori could feel tension lifting off of her shoulders. Yvaine chatted everyone's ears off. Greta promised to make the milk with her the next day. Falco excitedly shared he was hunting for a new recipe.
After eating, Yvaine dragged Mori to her room. "The story now, please!"
"It is a long one, so get comfortable. It is about Whiterun, a one-eyed jarl and a dragon called Numinex..."
XXX
The end of the month was nearing. Mori found herself absent-minded most of the days, giving much more magical energy to the chickens and goats than she intended.
The eggs were extra plentiful the next day.
"What's bothering you?" Falco, who was picking the eggs with her, tapped her shoulder.
"Oh, I...I wanted to go...meet someone."
"Ah," he nodded sagely. "When will you be back?"
"A few days, I think. Tell Bjorn I'm not pissed at him this time!" she hopped up and shapeshifted into a crow.
Falco shook his head. "Be careful! This girl," he murmured to himself as he picked the fallen clothes from the ground.
XXX
She was waiting at the pool. Comfortable in her leopard shape, she enjoyed the still warm sunlight of early autumn. The tip of her tail kept twitching in nervous anticipation.
Her ears perked up.
Someone was coming.
She shifted, assuming a more majestic looking pose. She had placed herself so that he could spot her the moment he made his way up to the platform.
His face warmed up with a little smile the moment he saw her.
Sour face, he? I think he looks just lovely.
She welcomed him with a soft mrow, hopping down to the sunny grassy spot he liked to sit at.
"Uh, hello," he fidgeted a little. "I brought you something," he reached into his pack and took two packages out. The first one revealed a piece of cake. He put it down, again some distance from himself, so she could comfortably deal with it.
She sniffed it. Honey, snowberries and some rowan berries too. She mrowed again and plopped down on the ground, wrapping her long tail around so it almost touched him.
Content with such a position, she took a bite. Divine.
"And the other is this," he took a book out of the waxed leather package. "I thought you might like to see the illustrations. It's about a land far, far to the south, where the Khajiit are from. Elsweyr."
He leaned out a bit and angled the book so she could see.
Her eyes widened. The illustrations were gorgeous. Colorful, masterfully drawn and captivating.
Too bad the text was too dense. She could read, just...even going through notes Falco left her was hard work, as she had to teach herself, and Yvaine, to read once they left the Reach.
"Do you want me to read it for you?" Vilkas must have noticed her staring at the text sadly.
Her ears went back a little in embarrassment. What must he think of me? I can't even...
She sighed, mrowed and slowly nodded.
He gave a small, gentle smile, then started reading. As he did, he pointed out if any of the illustrations corresponded to the text.
Mori, captivated by his voice, relaxed and listened.
XXX
Winter, 4E 188, somewhere in the Pale
"We need to give the Blessing to the twins, Kodlak."
"Oh?" Kodlak lifted his hammer from the remains of a dangerous prisoner's head. "Why do we need to do that, Skjor?"
"There's not enough of us. Norni is too old by now, he's preparing himself for an honorable death. You must have noticed - he's been going for more and more difficult jobs. Alone." Skjor scanned their surroundings. Coast clear. He started cleaning his sword. "The Silver Hand is not making any moves as of yet, but they are watching us. That and trying to locate the Pack."
Kodlak looked around as well and then turned to cleaning his own weapon. "That much is true," he sighed, "but Vilkas is not ready. He is...unstable."
"Why do you think that? He's performing splendidly."
"He is pushing his emotions aside. If he continues like that, he is bound to break one day. We cannot have that happen with him of the Blood."
"Then prepare him," Skjor threw his arms. "You are the one best suited for that, you are the guide of the Companions."
"He has been doing better, recently," Kodlak ignored Skjor's wild gesture. "Ever since he started taking those monthly trips. If I had known spending time in the woods would help so much, I would have steered him towards Embla's line of work, not yours."
"How about initiating Farkas first, then?"
Kodlak shook his head. "Don't try to draw a line between the twins. It won't work. Farkas WILL refuse you."
"Alright, let's give it some more time, then," Skjor picked up an item from the corpse to prove the kill. "But we must prepare them. Quickly."
XXX
Ten days later, Whiterun
Vilkas and Farkas were returning from a job. Having come through the gate, Farkas looked much more chipper.
"Are you running off to meet Deirdre?" Vilkas teased.
"Well of course I am!" Farkas slowed down and grinned. "She's my favourite. And she understands me so well. No annoying screaming."
"Are you two going drinking with Avulstein again?"
"Not today. She told me she wanted to spend the evening with just me once we returned from our job, so just me it is."
They walked in silence for a bit.
"Are you going climbing again?" Farkas nudged Vilkas with an elbow. "Just for walking? Towards the same spot?"
Vilkas grimaced. "Aye. Leave me be, oaf."
"I noticed you pack a lot of food every time," Farkas mused in an exaggerated manner. "And books. But you don't seem to be getting any rounder," he reached out to pat his stomach.
Vilkas swatted his hand away. "Don't stick your hands in places they're not wanted."
"Like your secret stash of lavender bread?"
Vilkas frowned at him.
"What? It's tasty. And you should thank me, you know. It would just get old and moldy. Now you get to get a new one."
"You're worse than the little witch."
"Oh, no no no no no. I am not. I can't creep up on anyone like that. It would be a good skill to have, though," Farkas stroked his bearded chin. "Just imagine this - not having to ditch your armor and not having to focus on every step to sneak. A lot of jobs would get a lot easier," Farkas spread his arms in a gesture.
"Why won't you enroll in the College, then? They would teach you spells for sure, if you managed to keep Nevras entertained enough so he doesn't run the whole building down."
"Did you get anything back from him yet? I saw you sending the bundles we prepared quite a while ago."
"No, not yet. It takes a lot of time to get to Winterhold, remember?"
"True, true. Wait, is that Deirdre?"
The brothers looked into the crowd. Indeed - Deirdre's tall figure stuck out of the crowd on the Gildergreen square with the magnificent mane of curly hair. She was heading home from Jorrvaskr.
"Oi! Didi!" Farkas waved his hand.
She noticed them, a smile appearing on her face. She headed towards them. "Hello, had a good time?"
"Farkas grabbed and squeezed her butt. "Sure did!"
She raised her eyebrow and swatted his shoulder playfully.
"If you call getting hit a good time," Vilkas grumbled. "I don't particularly enjoy bruises."
"Be happy it's just bruises, you could be bleeding," Farkas slid his hand around Deirdre's waist.
Vilkas wanted to answer, but a loud shriek tore through their ears. "You whore!"
The three of them turned to the source. Imelda, decked in priestess robes, was stomping their way, eyes trained on Deirdre.
Farkas, frowning, moved to step forward.
Deirdre lifted her hand, stopping him. "You're disgracing the temple, priestess. Lower your voice and let's talk."
The people watching the drama murmured. Imelda grew even redder. "You-"
"Please," Deirdre moved to one of the benches and made a polite gesture of invitation. "You two don't interfere," she shot a look at the brothers.
Vilkas shrugged and leaned against the Gildergreen. Farkas hesitated, but heeded Deirdre's wishes as well.
They couldn't see Imelda's face. They could hear both of the women clearly, though.
"What seems to be your problem, lady priestess?"
"You stole him away from me! You need to keep your dirty paws away! And your stenchy cooch, full of diseases!"
"Your language is not befitting your station, priestess," Deirdre's voice betrayed a hint of annoyance. "No one can steal a person. People are not property. Or are you insinuating you support slavery?"
Vilkas could hear hushed comments and giggles from the people definitely not eavesdropping.
"That's not what I-...listen," Imelda's voice grew quieter, but no less aggressive. "He's mine, I had him first. Hands off!"
"You know, neither Farkas nor I wish to stay with just one partner. You are free to try to win his affection, if you so please. You would have known that had you listened to him."
"I was going to change him!" Imelda hissed. Vilkas frowned, his whole body tensing. "Make him better. Then YOU had to barge in and ruin everything!"
"Priestess, it's not my fault you can't keep a man by disrespecting his wishes," Deirdre got up. "Clean up in front of your own door before coming after others." She turned to Vilkas. "Do you want to have dinner with us?"
"No, thanks," Vilkas shook his head. "All I want right now is to wash up, eat and read a book."
XXX
Vilkas was sitting in Kodlak's antechamber, hungry and grimy. He almost didn't even get a chance to drop his things in his room.
"You want me to stop going out on jobs?" he couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"No," Kodlak made a dismissive gesture. "I want you to stay for now, overlook the hall while I will be out with Skjor and Embla. What I would like you to start doing long term is training new recruits."
"But...why?"
"Because you are an excellent warrior and have great disposition for passing your skills to others." Kodlak smiled. "It will also help you make peace with your inner turmoil."
"I don't know how."
"Do it how you learnt."
I don't think harassing our newest whelps is the best way, Vilkas' thoughts turned sour.
"Sig is staying. She will help guide you. You can also ask Vignar for assistance."
"Why are you not letting Vignar do this, then?" Vilkas snapped.
"Because I want you to be at your best, Vilkas. There is more to your life than just swinging a sword. It would be a shame to leave the seedling of potential wither. One day you could even make for a fine Harbinger."
"I don't want that," Vilkas grumbled, slouching back into the chair.
"It doesn't have to end there," Kodlak patted his shoulder. "Opening new views will open new possibilities for you. Only when you can see the full picture can you decide wisely. I promise, if you are adverse to it still when we come back, I will let you be. Is that good enough?"
"...aye."
"Splendid. We'll be leaving in a few days. Now go get some food, my boy."
XXX
Exhausted, Vilkas stopped at the foot of the mountain. He only had a few days. He needed to be back before Kodlak, Embla and Skjor left, and then he had to stay around the hall, so he wouldn't be able to go meet Mori.
He wished to leave a note, at least.
So he had to forfeit some well earned rest if he wanted to get back in time.
Getting up the mountain with a horse will be hard, but it was worth the speed over the plains.
XXX
Few days later
"Isn't he a little too young?"
"He looks more our age, don't you agree? What can he know?"
"Shh! That's Vilkas. He's a fully pledged member. Just shut up!"
Vilkas' face contorted a little in displeasure. That was exactly what he didn't want to deal with - a herd of young men and women who were too confident, refusing to respect anything else than visible experience.
Sometimes not even that.
These were completely new recruits, accepted during the past few weeks. Mostly farmers from around Whiterun, like Erika. These days, experienced warriors didn't come to Jorrvaskr, they preferred other mercenary groups.
So everyone had to be trained from scratch.
He marched up and positioned himself to have the Skyforge hilltop behind his back. "My name is Vilkas. I'll be one of your instructors here. Do any of you have any experience with fighting?"
"I hunt deer."
"Chased off some wolves."
"I fought a lot at the local bar."
Most of the answers were like that. Did something with pa's old axe, so now I'm a great warrior, ready for mercenary work. Well, everyone has to start somewhere...
"I fought bandits," one of the women stepped up, a sneer on her face. "Looks like more than you can say, soft-face."
Vilkas arched an eyebrow. Was she referring to his lack of scars? Probably. He did have facial hair, so it must have been that.
Maybe beating her pride down a peg would alleviate his own frustration.
"Try me, then. I won't even use a shield."
She scoffed. She had arrived with an old, slightly rusty but otherwise useful looking sword. She drew it.
Ugh, her stance is sloppy. She'll lose her footing immediately.
She moved around a little, trying to get a reaction from him. Vilkas remained where he was, only shifting his position as little as needed.
She screamed as she attacked.
Vilkas sidestepped. As she flung around him, he grabbed her wrist. He twisted, just enough to force her to drop the sword, but not break any bones. He locked her with the other arm.
"And you're dead," he commented.
She fought back, trying to hit him. To no avail. He twisted her arm behind her back and forced her to stop.
He released her.
She immediately twisted, enraged. She tried to hit him with a fist. Vilkas dodged and hit her stomach with lightning speed.
She staggered back, air blown out of her.
He stepped to the side, but wouldn't turn his back to her. "The stance was outright bad. Unbalanced center. Your movements are too slow and too large - you are wasting energy. Make them as small as possible."
He paused. This made him remember Skjor and his lessons. His stomach turned a little.
"What's your name?"
"Helgi," she breathed out. Her face was completely red, this time not with anger.
"Listen. You can't expect to be as good as a warrior after swinging your axe a few times, just as you can't expect me to till the land when I've never worked a plough in my life. Let me show you, Helgi. All of you, look closely." He went over to her "Now, stand like this," he used his feet to slide hers into position, "and hold yourself up straight. Yes, like that, good."
Satisfied with that for starters, he turned to the others. "Take the stance."
He had to adjust all of them, but so far so good.
"Now we'll go over some basic movements. Look carefully at what I do. I'll repeat it a few times."
He performed a basic set. It was mostly just to get used to things and getting accustomed with the stance itself. Later the muscles would move more instinctively.
"And now step with me."
XXX
Few days have passed. Vilkas' little bunch started doing better. To his own surprise, he found himself pleased watching them progress.
"How's it going?" Farkas stopped by his side and dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder.
"Not bad."
"M-hm. I can see that. How about I do the armor training? I think I'd be suited for that, and then you can have more free time."
"Are you sure you don't want to head out instead?
"Yep."
"Suit yourself," Vilkas shrugged. He stepped forward. "Oi, whelps! Time to try some moves with weapons! Let's go over each one of you and find the best fit. Anyone with any archery experience?"