Ha. Not sure if he'll fall asleep. And now here he is, slumbering like a kitten, Mori thought to herself, smug joy filling her chest.
It was morning by now, she could tell. And, according to what she had seen so far nesting on the bookshelf the previous nights, quite long after the time he would usually rouse.
Still a lot earlier than Bjorn or Yvaine liked to wake up.
During the night he curled around her, so now she was comfortably nuzzled between his chest and forearm.
Usually she was the one curling around Yvaine in a protective manner when they slept. It was...comforting to be the one being held now.
Orgoch never offered that comfort to her.
Her face contorted in displeasure. Orgoch never offered any comfort. She would beat her instead. Anytime she would mispronounce a word, draw a rune incorrectly, misremember a ritual...
Anytime she was too scared to go face the hagravens.
You are the reason mother left! You are a disgrace, never good enough, she doesn't want to see us because of you!
Orgoch would always say that. Hiss it in her face. Then she would sit her somewhere and start lecturing her on magic, balance, anything.
Mori shivered. Better not think about that.
She laid her head down on her paws. I understand my power much better on my own, anyway. I never even knew I could summon whole spirits of the wild, and not just channel their aspects into my body.
Yvaine, too. She's growing so well in this environment. With loving people who allow her to try things out safely.
I wonder how she was able to hide her magic presence so well so fast. She had trouble understanding what I meant before.
Vilkas' breathing changed. Slowly, but surely, he started waking up.
Wearing a feline smile, Mori watched him open his eyes and orient himself. She saw some confusion. Understandable. She used to have those kinds of dreams too, for a while. They would leave you sapped even if you fell asleep after, and mornings weren't great.
His eyes focused on her.
"Oh!" he immediately pulled away. "Did I-sorry, I didn't mean to-"
Aw. I liked it, though.
She decided to mask the feelings and rising confusion with amusement. Cat faces were great for that. She yawned, stretched, pulled her tail high above and sat up.
She tilted her head, then booped him on the nose with a paw.
Ups, looks like I fried his brain. Ah well. He will deal with it.
She leapt, shifting into a crow mid-air. She landed on the backrest of the chair, twirled her tail feathers and stretched her wings a little.
She looked back.
His lips remained slightly parted, an astonished look in his eyes.
Cracking bones. Maybe it was too much?
As much as she liked the view, her own heart began losing itself in an inexplicable turmoil. She made a few softer crow noises, then hopped down on the chair seat so she was blocked from his sight.
Soon after she heard noises of movement, steps and clunking of metal. A noise of a small jar getting opened.
Ah. The warpaint. It looks very good, but I wonder, does it mean more? Maybe it's some sort of masking?
I like to look at his face without it. It looks younger, softer and warmer.
On the other hand...I do like the warrior as well.
She started cleaning her feathers. There has been something odd, though. He should have gone through the dreams all those years ago. Of course, different people had different healing processes, but this seemed...a little bit too strong. Did he not address the problem before?
If so, then that's bad.
Repressing emotions hurt the body too. She had seen it with many a warrior in the clans. The wise women and shamans had their own methods, which she knew, but if those weren't enough, they would ask a dream guide for help.
Mori often filled that role, with her strongest aspect being the closest to human nature.
"Let us go, my dear maiden?" Vilkas' voice brought her attention back to the here and now. He was standing next to the chair, offering an arm for her to perch at, a slight smile on his lips.
Suddenly, she felt a little bit odd about the smile. It was nice to see, but she suspected it hiding the truth, albeit not being dishonest in itself.
She tilted her head to one side, then the other.
I have a different idea.
She hopped up, flapping her wings. Instead of sitting on his arm, she nestled on his shoulder.
"Caw," she declared.
XXX
It was indeed later than usual. While during the other mornings she and Vilkas had the hall all to themselves, today a few of the 'whelps' were up and about.
Everyone greeted each other. Vilkas, having put on his usual detached face, sat down to drink his tea and read his book with breakfast.
It just so happened that Mori had a perfect view of the book, purely coincidentally, of course, and that she was getting part of the food.
She could see some of the whelps looking at her, whispering. She didn't know what white crows symbolised in Nord culture, but she hoped it was something good, like for the Reachpeople.
After eating, Vilkas went to inspect the training area. From time to time he would utter little comments as he changed something or took a piece of gear out of use.
A familiar presence caught Mori's attention, taking her from a comfortable ease. She looked up and cawed.
"What is it?" Vilkas, alerted by her sudden change, stopped his inspection.
He turned to see where Mori was looking.
A little figure with braided flaxen hair was skipping their way.
Noticing them watching her, she stopped. "Aaaw, I hoped you wouldn't notice so I could surprise you."
"With that?" Vilkas pointed towards a suspicious looking pouch.
Well, it might not have been particularly suspicious, but this was Yvaine. There WAS something suspicious inside.
She tucked it away. "It's just laughing powder."
Vilkas arched an eyebrow.
"Laughing is good for you, you know."
Mori let out an indignant caw. Yvaine looked her in the eyes. Mori tilted her head. Yvaine swapped to Reachspeech.
"Can I put it up somewhere? Please? Just a little bit, it won't last longer than a minute, and it's not the one that makes your belly hurt. I swear I won't make Vilkas laugh."
Vilkas perked up, hearing his name.
Mori cawed.
Yvaine beamed. "Alright, I will put it in that guy's bed later. Thanks, Mori!" She switched back to common tameric. "You promised I could come for a visit, so I came!"
"Alone?"
"No, Mori's here. Also, I came with Falco and Bjorn. They had trading to do and deals to secure, or something. I don't care. I just make stuff Falco asks me to make. I made dyes this time. Oh, and some things to make washing easier. Better than soap. Well, it's just enhanced soap. And something to wash clothes with. But I don't want to do the boring stuff. So I came here!"
Mori was shaking her head. She flew over to Yvaine, landed on her head and cawed.
"Aw, you're the best, Mori!"
Vilkas had been stroking his chin in thought. "Yvaine, how about I hire you for a fun idea?"
Yvaine turned to him so fast, Mori almost fell off of her head. "What fun idea?" Yvaine's face almost split with an expectant smile.
"I want you to take a stick, not too thick, and, for the whole of today, hit my whelps with it at random. Not too strong, don't hurt them. Just enough so they can feel they've been hit. You can have some of the new tea mixture Tilma prepared for it."
"Sweet tea?" Yvaine perked up.
"It tastes sweet, even though it actually isn't," Vilkas raised a finger. "She mixes it with various herbs and berries, a number of them from different regions. And, if you're not interested in that, I can offer you a completely different type of delicious reprieve - cocoa."
"What is that?"
"I'll let you have a smell, it's easier to do it that way. Come," he waved at her. Mori, absolutely speechless, just sat on his shoulder.
Is it that easy to bribe a witch?
Then she remembered the man's cooking skills. And he spoke so reverently about cocoa. Hm. Maybe she would try it too. She ruffled her wings and ignored a grin from Yvaine.
Yes, it is that easy to bribe these witches.
But only because it was Vilkas.
XXX
"Be careful with it," Vilkas warned as he offered small mugs of hot, dark drink to the ladies. "You're not used to it, your body will have a strong reaction."
"Can I have mine with milk?" Yvaine asked once she sniffed it.
"Of course," Tilma, the old housekeeper of Jorrvaskr brought a jug. She looked unperturbed by the presence of a strange witch-child in her kitchen. The only comment she had was to keep the strange smelling bags off of her working tables.
"Thank you. Tiber would like you to have this," Yvaine pulled a handful of gold nuggets from somewhere in her never ending pockets and offered them to Tilma, "because you were so nice to us."
"Tiber?" Vilkas sounded curious.
Mori, now in the shape of a cat, mewed and put her paw on the doll next to her. The spot had been empty up until now.
"Ah."
Tilma bowed her head a little and pocketed the nuggets.
The witches each tasted their drink. Mori detected some sweetness, some bitterness, earthiness, nuttiness and, strangely enough, a tinge of creamy. It made her throat feel happy.
She could feel her face making the content feline smile.
Yvaine downed her mug in one go. "More please?"
Vilkas made a dismissive gesture, although smiling. "No, not at once. Like I said, at the beginning, you need to be careful. I assume you accept my deal?"
"YES! I want that powder!"
XXX
"Today we'll have a guest join in our training," Vilkas marched in front of the whelps, grouped up by Farkas. Mori watched as the men and women looked at Yvaine with disbelief.
"Uhm...is that a little girl?"
"That is lady Yvaine, a witch from Lakeview. A friend of mine," Vilkas wasn't thrown off balance, "who will be doing a special exercise with you."
"A little girl?"
"A witch, Helgi," Farkas said, warning in his voice. "It would do you good to never underestimate a witch, no matter her circumstances."
Oh, they're in for a world of trouble.
Mori puffed up her little bird chest. This should be fun.
"Today is game day. We will practice as usual. Lady Yvaine will randomly sneak up on you and try to hit you with a stick. Your goal is to do as well as you can in the game AND to block the hits."
Someone laughed. "How can she hit us? So little and there's nowhere to hide here."
"Where is she?" another shushed the first's laughter. "She disappeared!"
Whish!
A stick landed on the doubter's back. Everyone turned. They only caught a glimpse of a braid just...disappearing.
"But I didn't hear any spell noises! There always have to be-"
Whack!
"Block, remember to block! If that was a sword, you'd be dead!" Farkas laughed. He moved, deftly blocking Yvaine's next hit, aiming for his thigh.
"Aw, I thought I had you," she made a face as she slipped behind him, not appearing on the other side.
"It'll take a bit more than that to catch ME off guard," Farkas grinned. He smacked the whelp next to him on the shoulder. "Tag!"
XXX
In the evening they all gathered the the hall.
"My whole body hurts," someone complained. "How is she invisible like that?"
"Yea, she smacked me on the butt! Unbelievable!"
"I managed to block one," a third joined in, taking a sip of mead.
"You need to listen for the sound of the stick coming," Helgi commented, looking thoughtful. Her short brown hair was a mess, as Yvaine deemed to target her the most.
Mori observed carefully from her perch on Vilkas' shoulder. The recruits have suffered a beating, and yet most of them remained in high spirits. The ones who managed to block a hit or two were boasting, the others, in pretend outrage, promised to catch up in skill.
It reminded her of young hunters in the tribes.
I don't think our peoples are as different as Orgoch always said...
In beliefs, perhaps. But...people are just people.
XXX
Yvaine took Mori to meet up with Bjorn and Falco. They talked and had a nice dinner, but Mori returned to Jorrvaskr after.
She couldn't just spend all her days there, so she wanted to use what she could.
Vilkas was reading in his room. At the sound of wings flapping, he lifted his eyes. Mori slipped in through the window slit and as she was landing on the ground, shifted into a cat.
"I thought you went away," he closed the book. "Are you staying for longer?"
She nodded.
"But...I suppose not too long."
Another nod.
"Can I still meet you monthly when I'm not on a job?"
Of course you can, silly. Nod.
She sprung up, landing on his lap, which, once again, froze his brain for a little. She rubbed against his arm and looked at the table.
Scattered among the books, few drawings caught her attention. There were some creature sketches, some armaments, a few landscapes, and...
A horrifying image of a hagraven.
Is that what he dreamt of? She looks even worse than the actual ones.
She mewed as he carefully, almost as if scared she'd disappear, put a hand on her back.
Would he allow me to perform the dream ritual? I don't want to do it if he's unwilling...black mushrooms, if only I wasn't so cowardly and could make myself change with him around...
"Can you sleep next to me again?" he asked, voice so soft she would have missed it had she not had cat's keen hearing at the moment.
She purred. He carefully picked her up and placed her on the bed. She rolled up on the pillow, dark eyes trained on him.
Why are you only showing me? Is it because I have seen you vulnerable and open already? I can sense the rot now. Deep, deep inside. If only you could open more, to Farkas at least.
"Why do you seem so worried?" he turned to his side to look at her.
Damn me and my cowardice.
She gently shook her head.
They both grew quiet, just watching the other.
"So," Vilkas was the first to break the silence, "since you have been touching me plenty these past few days...may I touch you too?"
Mori could feel her fur rising. Only a little. She forced it down and whished her tail from side to side. She reached out, bumping his hand gently.
He caressed her head, then let his fingers slip behind her ears to scratch.
Damn. I could get used to this.
Mori began purring.
I AM getting used to this.
XXX
The next two days flowed by faster than water in a mountain stream. Yvaine got one more stick to beat the whelps with, because they started getting better at blocking her attempts. Mori watched the mayhem contentedly from her perch on Vilkas' shoulder.
This evening was the last she would have. She needed to deal with wyrd business, the mountains were calling, making her soul restless.
Yvaine organised a goodbye tea party with all the Companions. Most of the older ones discreetly slipped away, but the whelps, the twins and Erika stayed.
Just as the witchling frolicked around the table, gifting each person with small, useless, but pretty things, the door flung open.
XXX
Everyone turned.
Skjor, Kodlak and Embla were marching into the hall, battered and gloomy.
As Skjor's blazing eyes scoured across the tea party, Vilkas felt his muscles tensing. But then he realised something else and an even greater anxiety filled his stomach - Embla had noticed Mori on his shoulder.
He could see her eyes narrowing.
"What in oblivion is this?!" Skjor barked.
"Dinner," Vilkas put on his stony expression, standing up.
"Sitting around a table and sipping fucking tea is your idea of training the whelps?"
Ouch. He's in a bad mood. And of course he drops it on me.
"Last time I checked even whelps needed to eat," Vilkas stood in front of Skjor. "And sleep. No one can train all day long."
"They'll have to, with how miserable you're doing! Throwing damned stupid parties! Are you making them soft?!"
"Skjor, calm down," Kodlak put a hand on Skjor's shoulder.
The one eyed warrior shook it off. "I'll be taking over tomorrow! We can't afford to feed a bunch of mewling pups-"
He moved forward. Vilkas tried to block him, but Skjor, much more experienced, just swept him to the side. He stomped to the closest recruit. Helgi. He struck.
Helgi raised her arms in a block.
Skjor's hit shook her to the core, but she didn't falter. The very next moment, all of the whelps jumped to their feet. They rushed into a battle formation around Helgi, facing Skjor. Some of them even grabbed chairs.
All eyes were trained at Skjor. Vigilant. Waiting.
Farkas, standing in the position of the captain of the formation, gave Skjor a look. "You were saying?"
Kodlak broke into laughter. "Well done," he nodded towards the whelps. He patted Vilkas on the shoulder. "You did good, my boy. Teaching suits you. You too, Farkas, good job."
Vilkas made a gesture. The whelps stepped down, unsure, but following his lead. "Enjoy your food."
The whelps still didn't seem too sure, but they slowly sat back down.
"Vilkas, Farkas, Erika - come with us," Kodlak motioned for the three to not sit down. "We need to discuss what we found."
XXX
"Are you keeping pets now?" Embla stepped in with Vilkas.
"I see no reason not to," Vilkas replied, perfectly civil. He was sure Embla didn't miss the tension rising in him, though.
"A white crow, how peculiar. Did you know the shamans of old believed them to be messengers between mortals and spirits?"
"I didn't. I just liked the look of it."
"It has strange eyes," Embla neared Mori. The bird in question made angry noises, accompanied by wing movements.
"Embla, stop yapping about some damned bird!" Skjor snapped from the front.
"Ease your spirits, all of you," Kodlak sighed, tiredness seeping into his voice. "Sit. Bring the maps, Farkas."
"What is it that you all look so haggard?" Erika wanted to know as she pulled a chair and sat. "Is it about the group you had me watch before?"
"Exactly," Embla turned her stare from Mori and gave a nod to Erika. "The Silver Hand."
"They have claimed fortresses in the Pale and Eastmarch as well," Kodlak pointed out two spots on the map. "Driftshade Refuge and Gallows Rock."
"Gallows Rock is suspiciously close to Whiterun," Vilkas frowned. "Are they trying to lock us in?"
"Most probably."
"I had you tail them because they are showing an unhealthy interest in us," Embla made a gesture towards Erika. "What we found just now confirms it - they are spying on every job of ours they can get information about."
"They haven't done anything yet," Kodlak continued, "but for our own safety, we should lower the one-man jobs as much as possible."
"We haven't found anyone overreaching to Falkreath yet," Skjor commented. "But it would be good to investigate more. The little beast from Lakeview likes you," he pointed his chin towards Vilkas, "so you should go ask them for help."
"Why would they agree?" Vilkas grimaced. "There's nothing in it for them."
"I'm sure she could convince the thane for you."
Vilkas scoffed. "Why don't you come up with a feasible plan instead? Something that would actually benefit them so they are inclined to agree."
"What would they need us for? Haven't you seen the havoc the two hags caused? We need to appeal to emotions. And you are in a position to do that."
"I won't," Vilkas' voice darkened. "And you will watch your tongue."
Farkas leaned forward, eyes trained at Skjor. "That's not a nice way to talk about someone who saved our lives."
"Enough!" Kodlak cut in. "We will find a way to gather information. Erika, you can do that, no?"
"Yea," Erika, so far looking rather flabbergasted in her seat, snapped back to it. "Probably not by haunting people in Lakeview, but I have my ways."
"Then that will be your focus now. Figure out anything and everything possible about the presence of the Silver Hand in Falkreath Hold. Bring one or two whelps - the ones you deem fit for training in your ways."
Erika nodded. Kodlak turned to Farkas. "You, my boy, are going to be crucial for this part. I want you to travel around the inns and find out anything about the history of the Silver Hand. Where did they come from? Is anyone backing them? The tavern keeps and bar maids are bound to have some information."
"I can do that."
"Vilkas. I want you to stay as much around Whiterun as possible. Do jobs in the Hold, look after the hall and whelps with me. I also want you to aid me in looking for clues about the shards of Wuuthrad - the Silver Hand were searching for them as well. We must not allow them to snatch the shards from under our noses."
"Another thing is," Skjor rejoined the conversation, "even though there ought to be less work for us with them around, there isn't. I am suspecting they have deals with the local criminals to try to spread us thin."
"Do they want Jorrvaskr?" Erika mused. "It's an awful lot of effort for just a group of rival mercs."
"We are not sure," Embla shook her head, "and we shouldn't operate on assumptions. You will look into Falkreath, I will look into their goals around the places we've discovered."
Kodlak sighed. "That would be all for now. Let's have dinner."
XXX
Vilkas headed out of Jorrvaskr after eating, Mori still perched on his shoulder. He sat on a bench under the Gildergreen, the square eerily empty at this hour. Only the sounds of the wind and bubbling water were breaking the quiet night.
"As much as I don't like it, you should leave," he spoke quietly to Mori. "Embla is interested in you, she wants your leopard skin. Be on the watch for her. Please."
Mori shook her tail plumage.
"I know you are capable, but so is Embla. She is vicious. The best huntress around, who never gives up on her prey."
He offered his hand. Mori hesitated, but in the end, hopped over from his shoulder.
"I will look forward to meeting you again," he touched the feathers on her back. "Stay safe, my dear maiden."
He reached his hand high up. Mori looked back at him. She turned away. She spread her wings and hopped into the air. Before she disappeared into the night, Vilkas heard one last caw.
The night grew quiet again.
Vilkas sighed, slumping into the bench. A strange, empty feeling spread through his chest.
He was so lost in thought he didn't hear the footsteps approaching. When a voice, all too close to him, broke through, he almost jumped.
"Oh, what a coincidence!"
Imelda was readying to sit next to him. Too close for comfort.
"I often come to contemplate here late at night," she ignored Vilkas' clearly visible displeasure, "who would have known I would run into you here?"
"I will leave you to contemplate in peace," Vilkas wanted to get up. Imelda had other opinions. She put her hand on his thigh, pushing him down to stay.
"No need-"
"Don't touch me!" Vilkas growled, slapping her hand away. He stood up a little bit too fast. "You should consider your manners, priestess."
He departed, his steps swift. Huffing in anger, a storm raged in his heart.
Why does everyone just think it is alright to grab people? I hate it. I hate when strangers touch me.
I want Mori to touch me more.
This thought just barged into his head, cutting a line through the bile of rising outrage. His steps slowed, ultimately coming to a halt.
A bitter chuckle escaped him.
Gods, she's been away for a moment and here I am, moping. I need to get myself together. Be stronger.
But it should be alright to have a bit of space in my heart just for her.
With a small shy smile he resumed his path to Jorrvaskr. As he walked to the door to his room, he could hear a very confused laughter coming from Skjor's room.
Hm. I guess the witches didn't like what they heard.
A fitting revenge.