The Dragonborn's Family

Brothers' Conversation

Conversation between Vilkas and Farkas, set right before "Haircut," after both of them are married and out on a job together.

Vilkas and Farkas were finally heading home after an unexpectedly long job. They were still several miles away as the sun was setting.
Farkas looked sadly at the sunset. "You wanna make camp or..."
"Continue on," Vilkas answered before his brother finished the question. "I want to see my wife."
"Good. Me too," Farkas replied with an approving node "Mine, I mean," he added a little awkwardly. Vilkas chuckled.
"I knew what you meant," he said, clapping Farkas on the shoulder. Farkas grinned and looked out at the horizon toward Whiterun.
"Who would have thought," he said, "that we'd both end up married..."
"Aye," Vilkas nodded with a smile, "Jergen and Kodlak would have been as shocked as Vignar was, but I know they would have approved. Jergen would have loved Krinna and Lydia as much as Kodlak did."
"Yeah," Farkas nodded as well. "It's funny, marriage doesn't feel like I thought it would," he added thoughtfully. Vilkas raised an eyebrow at his brother and he continued, "the songs and stories talk about falling in love feeling like heart-racing, and butterflies and all that, and that's not how marriage is at all. Lydia doesn't make me nervous, she makes me calm and comfortable... happy."
"I guess that's the difference between falling in love, and being in love," Vilkas replied, "the unknowns are gone, there's trust. Krinna doesn't make my heart race every time I look at her anymore, but that's a good thing. She makes me feel content and secure." Vilkas smiled.
"Oh Lydia can still get my heart pounding alright," Farkas chuckled. Vilkas laughed.
"I never said my wife doesn't arouse me," Vilkas added fondly, "quite the opposite... but she doesn't make me nervous, she calms my nerves."
"Instead of being like a huge raging fire it's like a warm, comfortable, hearth fire," Farkas commented.
"That's a good comparison," Vilkas agreed, still smiling.
They continued toward home in silence for another mile before Farkas spoke again.
"Do you remember how old we were when Jergen brought us to Jorrvaskr?"
"No, I don't," Vilkas shook his head. "I know we were young. I barely remember the necromancers and Jergen rescuing us, but there's no memory before that."
"Same," Farkas nodded.
"Why do you ask, brother?"
"Well we turned out alright," Farkas shrugged, "growing up at Jorrvaskr and all, right?"
"Aye," Vilkas nodded, "at least I think so... and our wives apparently think so..." Vilkas suspected he knew where his brother was going with this now...
"You ever think of starting a family?" Farkas asked.
Vilkas sighed. He had. He'd imagined Krinna with a swollen belly... wondered what their children would look like... Would they get Krinna's auburn hair, or his dark brown hair? Would they have his light blue eyes, or Krinna's dark blue, or something in between?
He had imagined Krinna showing a child how to hold a sword... or cast a healing spell... He'd imagined himself teaching an older child how to transition to a two-handed weapon, or helping them get fitted in their first set of armor...
"I have," he admitted, "but I haven't discussed it with Krinna yet." Vilkas had also thought of how dangerous being pregnant could be for the Dragonborn... would she be able to stay home until the child was born and then weaned, or would there be another crisis that required her attention? Would she even want children with their warrior life-style? Could they even raise children with their warrior life-style?
"Lydia and I have discussed it," Farkas replied simply. "She wouldn't mind settling down a bit... as long as things don't get too quiet at least. She wants to stay at Jorrvaskr, at least for now."
Vilkas just nodded and they walked in silence a while longer. He could see Farkas as a father... he'd be a goofy and doting, but fiercely protective father... imagining it made Vilkas smile.
"Jergen wasn't our real father, was he?" Farkas asked a while later.
"I don't know," Vilkas shook his head, "he said he was, he saved us from the necromancers, and he took care of us until he left for the war... I don't recall if he looked much like us, but an adoptive father is still a father, so I suppose one way or another, he was."
"Yeah," Farkas said, "I always thought he was."
"I know," Vilkas sighed, "for years I was bitter at him for leaving, but I thought so too."
"You seen the little girl that sits under the Gildergreen?" Farkas asked a moment later.
"Aye," Vilkas nodded, waiting for Farkas to continue.
"She's older than we were when Jergen took us to Jorrvaskr."
"Definitely," Vilkas agreed. He expected Farkas to say something else, but he didn't. Vilkas looked over and Farkas just looked lost in thought.
They continued on in silence while Vilkas thought as well. An adoptive father was definitely still a father... he remembered the little boy he'd met a few months ago at the farm outside of Solitude; Blaise. He was not more than eight years old, but he was a tough little whelp, sleeping outside and helping with farm work... he was probably close in age to the little girl Farkas was talking about... Vilkas decided he was going to need to have this conversation with his wife.
It was near midnight by the time Whiterun finally came into view. Vilkas smiled, thinking how nice it was going to be to finally climb into bed with his wife again. They had been gone way too long.