My Random Skyrim Stories

Sword Thief (Vilkas) 4 Drunk

To Vilkas's dismay, Ysabyth had returned with the sword he'd sent her after only a week later.
She got back around the same time Ria and Aela had come back from a job in the Reach. Aela and Ria had killed a massive cave bear that had been wreaking havoc near Markarth, and the Companions had a feast in their honor.
Vilkas never would have believed Aela's stories of the cave bear if they hadn't brought the thing's pelt back... then she told of some saber cat Ysabyth had helped her kill in the Pale, which prompted Farkas to tell of a pack of horkers he and Torvar had killed a few weeks ago, and on the evening went.

Vilkas enjoyed his food and drink. He chimed in with a story or a comment on a few occasions, but for the most part he kept to himself.
He was having more trouble than he wanted to acknowledge keeping his eyes from lingering on the Dragonborn... she had taken her armor off that evening— as had most of the Companions— and was wearing a long, cream-colored dress with a brown corset. For reasons he refused to admit to himself, Vilkas was finding Ysabyth's dress more... distracting than Ria's or Aela's... the brown color contrasted with her hair, making the hints of red stand out more...
At first he tried not to look at her at all, but the further into his drinks he got, the less he cared...
Actually he thought it was a shaping up to be a rather nice evening...
Until toward the end of dinner... when his eyes fell once again on Ysabyth... and Farkas... with his arm around her waist...
She was leaning against him and whispering something in his ear that was making him grin like an idiot...
Farkas's eyes met Vilkas's and his grin became a little more smug as he subtly gripped her a little tighter. Vilkas suddenly felt like he was going to be sick... his wolf spirit raged at him... that damn woman had no business hanging on his brother like that, she should be with...
Wait...
No...
Damn it...
Vilkas got abruptly to his feet and headed outside. He needed air.
Out on the back porch he could still hear the revelry inside. He stalked quickly away. He needed more space... he needed quiet...
He must have had too much to drink... that was the only explanation for the way Ysabyth's image was still plaguing his mind... for the way his wolf spirit wanted to barge back in there and grab her for himself...
He didn't want to hold her like that... he didn't... it was just his beast blood getting riled up...
He needed a walk.

Vilkas wasn't sure how much time passed as he walked aimlessly around Whiterun, trying desperately not to think about what his brother was probably doing with the Dragonborn by now...
At first he thought his imagination was torturing him with her scent on the wind as well, but as he slowly sobered he realized he wasn't imagining it. He walked slowly back to Jorrvaskr to realize it smelled like she'd come outside... and it didn't smell like Farkas was with her...
Confused, and a little curious, Vilkas made his way back up the steps toward the building...

On the roof of Jorrvaskr, not downstairs with his brother, was Vilkas's sword thief...
He stared in confusion at her for several minutes... she was still wearing that brown and cream colored dress, laying on her back on the keel of the old ship that made the roof, and just staring up at the sky...
There was a bottle of mead sitting on the roof above her head...
What in Oblivion had happened since he left?
Vilkas was about to call out to her, but it suddenly occurred to him that if she was drunk she might fall if he startled her... and if she fell toward the back of the building there'd be no way he could catch her...
Sighing in mild irritation, Vilkas made his way around back to the porch, grabbed one of the rafters, and hauled himself up to the roof. He almost slipped, and he was a little worried he'd break something... he hadn't climbed up here since he was a boy— and he'd weighed considerably less back then, but the porch held. He made his way carefully up to the peak of the roof.
The woman just continued staring at the sky with tired, glassy eyes. Her long dress hung across her body leaving just enough to the imagination... her hair was hanging loosely down the roof over her shoulder, and she smelled of snowberry soap and mead.
"What're you doing up here, Farkas?" She mumbled without looking at him.
Vilkas raised an eyebrow at her... based on how strongly he could smell the mead on her he suspected that bottle was at least mostly empty. Had he misread what was going on with her and Farkas?
"I came to see what you're doing up here," Vilkas replied, deciding not to correct her yet.
"Drinking," she replied bluntly, gesturing to the bottle.
Vilkas raised his eyebrows curiously... what had Farkas done?
"And you just assumed I was Farkas without looking?" Vilkas asked. He smirked a little in spite of himself, but to his dismay, she still didn't even look at him.
She just shrugged, still staring at the sky. "Aela's not that loud, Ria's too drunk to climb," she slurred, "and no one else would bother."
Ysmir, she sounded drunk...
"You don't think Vilkas would bother?"
"Maybe bother yelling at me," she grumbled, "he'd probably prefer if I fell off and died."
Were those tears in her eyes?
"That's... not true," he said in a low voice.
He shuffled a little closer and sat down just within arms reach...
...just so he could catch her if she started to fall...
He needed to watch her carefully so he could make sure she wasn't about to lose balance and fall...
He definitely wasn't paying attention to how well he could see her cleavage from that angle... or trying to imagine how she'd feel in his arms...
He picked up the bottle and set it to his other side.
She spared him a quick glance then, her eyes were bloodshot, which made the green stand out brightly... by Ysmir, they were like emeralds...
"I know you keep telling me he's a good man and all," she sighed, clearly still not realizing he wasn't Farkas, "but I'm not sure believing that is doing me any good."
"Why do you say that?" Vilkas asked curiously... and why would Farkas keep telling her that if he was interested in her?
"Because he can't stand me," she whispered, and one of the tears rolled down her flushed cheek.
Vilkas's heart clenched, and he was pretty sure he couldn't blame that on his beast blood. He knew he shouldn't take advantage of the situation, but he was too curious now...
"Why do you care what he thinks?" He asked in a low voice.
She sighed heavily, "you'll make fun of me in the morning if I tell you... or worse, tell him," she grumbled.
Vilkas swallowed uncomfortably... why was his heart rate speeding up?
"I promise I won't..." he whispered.
She sighed again. "I never should have taken his sword," she shook her head, "he hates me for it, and the whole time I had it... I... I thought of him."
"Really?"
"Every time I drew that sword I thought of him..." she nodded, "for three fucking years... I started off just using his stupid insults as motivation to prove him wrong... but then..." she trailed off looking back up at the sky and another tear fell down her face.
Vilkas's throat felt dry... "then what?" He prodded.
"I started imagining how he'd respond if I actually did manage to impress him... and what his damn accent and his voice might sound like if he actually didn't look down on me... if he actually liked me..."
Vilkas blinked in shock as she continued...
"...it turned into a really stupid little fantasy, and..." she paused and glanced up at him again, looking embarrassed now.
"What kind of fantasy?" Vilkas asked, trying not to sound excited... because of course he wasn't excited by such an idea... was he?
"Mostly innocent things honestly..." she sighed and stared back at the sky... "I'm the Dragonborn... I had to save the world and everyone expects me to take care of them... I... I just liked to imagine what it would be like to actually have someone take care of me... and hold me... just things like that... mostly..."
Vilkas hoped she didn't hear his breath catch in his throat... he certainly couldn't have her figuring out how badly part of him wanted to hold her... not to mention what else...
"Mostly?" He repeated a little breathlessly...
Ysabyth's cheeks flushed a bit more but she didn't elaborate... "I know it was stupid," she continued instead, "fantasizing about a nearly complete stranger... I obviously don't know him at all... I wanted to, I wanted to come back and be more than the outsider he'd never heard of, but... instead I'm just the 'damn thief' to him..." a few more tears fell from her eyes... "I... I just need to get over him..."
Vilkas swallowed... why should this make him feel bad? He didn't care how the damn woman felt... she'd stolen his sword and run off... he should want her to get over him... he should want her to leave again... she didn't belong...
She was a thief, and a mage...

...and... the Dragonborn...
...the beautiful woman of legend...
...and...
...

Damn it...
He didn't want her to leave...
...
He... he didn't want her to get over him... he didn't want her to cry...

He probably should have expected this... part of him had realized he'd been in denial ever since she returned, but he'd been too angry to admit it to himself...
Vilkas sighed and took a deep breath... he couldn't deny it anymore. He still didn't trust her, but... he wanted to...

"Don't give up on him..." he said quietly, before he could talk himself out of it. He hoped she was too drunk to figure out he wasn't Farkas because at this point he didn't think he'd have an excuse...
"He won't even spar with me anymore," she shook her head, and more tears fell.
"He will," Vilkas replied gently, "you can't tell it yet, but he is coming around..."
"I don't know," she grumbled, "I'm pretty sure your plan to make him jealous tonight just backfired."
Vilkas just blinked in surprise for a moment... so that had been what that was about... he wasn't sure if that made him feel better or worse... he definitely felt like he needed to punch Farkas...
"No," Vilkas replied slowly, "I'm... sure it worked..."
She gave a soft snort of disbelief at that, "yeah, worked to make him more mad... he's still not even back yet..."
Vilkas chuckled. She sounded worried about him... that was... actually cute...
"We should get you off this roof," he suggested with a smile, "you're too drunk to know if he's back or not."