My Random Skyrim Stories

First Love (5)

"Oh good," Farkas grumbled as they walked into the room at the tavern, "you're on your feet..."

Vilkas started to open his mouth to tell Farkas he was sorry for the whole mess, but before he got the words out Farkas's fist connected with his jaw and everything went black.

The next thing Vilkas knew he was lying with his head in Lysabelle's lap with her golden healing spell swirling across his vision again. He could hear Lysabelle grumpily scolding Farkas, and Farkas sheepishly saying something about expecting him to block.

"Damn it, brother," Vilkas growled, only to find it hurt quite badly to move his jaw.

"Hold on, don't talk yet," Lysabelle instructed, bringing her warm hand up to cup his jaw as the magic continued to work. Vilkas scowled at Farkas through the gold light as he felt the magic knitting the bones back together.

Finally Lysabelle sighed tiredly and the spell faded. Vilkas brought a hand up to carefully feel his face and slowly began to experimentally move his jaw. Aside from filthy, with a week's worth of a beard, he seemed to be fine again. He sat up slowly and looked back to Farkas...

"I was trying to apologize, and you broke my jaw," he complained.

"I didn't expect you to take the hit to the face like that," Farkas replied defensively, "you usually dodge or block... an' besides that... you had it comin'."

Vilkas started to argue, but realized he really didn't care to fight... he just wanted to clean up and sort things out with Lysabelle.

"I suppose I did," he sighed instead.

Farkas's eyes widened in surprise and he looked to Lysabelle, "did I give him a concussion?"

"Yes, but I healed it," she grumbled.

Vilkas rolled his eyes. By Ysmir, he was glad Lysabelle knew healing magic. He would gladly take back everything he'd said all those years ago about not wanting her to learn magic.

"Anyway, what I was trying to say," Vilkas continued, "I'm sorry, brother, I misunderstood... and..." he glanced to Lysabelle with a small, apologetic smile, "I should have clarified before running off."

Farkas let out a deep sigh. "Just glad we found you," he shook his head.

Vilkas nodded in sheepish agreement. He was relieved his brother always could forgive so easily.

For being the one people always called the 'icebrain,' Farkas could read people better than anyone else Vilkas knew, and he could tell when an apology was genuine.

"Were you really gonna try an' eat that deer you mutilated?" Farkas added in concern.

"Was it that bad?" Vilkas raised his eyebrow.

"It was bad," Farkas nodded, "you didn't even mess up that bad on our first deer as whelps".

"By Ysmir, I was drunk," Vilkas sighed.

"Mmhmm," Farkas grunted. "Now, why were you tryin' to drink yourself to Oblivion?"

Vilkas looked to Lysabelle again before looking sheepishly back to Farkas.

With a deep sigh he sat back on the bed and began explaining the whole fiasco. By the time he was finished Farkas was grinning and chuckling at Vilkas's expense, but Vilkas didn't even mind.

"Whelp..." Farkas chuckled getting to his feet, "I'm headin' home, sounds like you can handle washin' him up, an' feedin' him," he smirked at Lysabelle and Vilkas's heart jumped when he saw the way Lysabelle's face flushed at that.

Farkas looked back to Vilkas with another chuckle before heading out the door and shutting it behind him.

Lysabelle jumped at the sound of the door shutting and Vilkas couldn't help but smirk at how adorably flustered she suddenly looked. He wondered what was going through her mind...

"D-don't look at me like that," she stuttered, her face turning brighter red, "y-you should wash up. I... I'll just... I'll be at the bar."

And with that she darted out of the room.

"Damn it Farkas!" Vilkas heard her snap irritably from the other side of the door.

"What? I thought you'd like helpin' him bathe," Farkas replied in a teasing tone, "Lydia told me you used to—"

"Shut up!" Lysabelle cut him off, her voice pitching higher than normal, "oh gods, I'm going to kill Lydia..." she groaned as Farkas just laughed.

"What's this now?" Vilkas smirked, opening the door behind her.

"No, you go wash," she snapped scoldingly, "I'll talk to you when you smell better."

Vilkas chuckled at how dark red her face was now, but he let her shove him backwards into the room again.

"There's soap and a big washbasin, Farkas paid for extra water," she said as she shut the door in his face.

Vilkas heard Farkas laugh. He wanted to know what his brother was teasing her about, but he decided not to press his luck. He really did need to wash. Now that he wasn't drunk, the grime was starting to make him feel sticky and itchy... and she had said she'd talk to him after he was cleaned...