“How have you been feeling?” He tried to sound engaging, Vilkas sitting as if he wasn't comfortable. “I've been bearing well.” A bold faced lie, of course. “You know, if you have anything you want to talk about, I'll listen.” The mer was far older than anyone here, he sometimes wished humans would see him wizened.
“You already sound like a Harbinger. No need, What's done is done. There's no use in reviving old pains.” Vilkas said, quite poetically.
“I seriously doubt this is an old pain, my friend. A steel bearing can still break if the load becomes too heavy for too long.” He reached up and put a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it tenderly. Vilkas flinched, glaring at him flatly. “You know, your brother waits upstairs, wondering where you are. You should go see him.”
Vilkas said nothing, the Bosmer staring at him with those inky black eyes. It unnerved him how he couldn't see their pupils. The mer felt compassion, the hand becoming an arm going around Vilkas' back, another resting in his lap. Vilkas' skin crawled at the touch, feeling his personal space terrorized by something so gentle.
The nord shook his head. The beast inside whimpered, tail between it's legs. It didn't like this and Vilkas decided he didn't either. “Are you sure you can't?” His harbinger whispered, the feeling of his breath touched his cheek. Suddenly, Vilkas stood up and away, the bosmer still reaching out to him in surprise.
“Dammit why are you touching me? I want to be alone!” His eyes where pinpointed, his back stiff. He was a beast cornered but a heartbroken man. It was so obvious to see, it made the mer raise his voice in frustration. He's had enough.
“Why do you do this to yourself? You know full well you're bearing this great burden for absolutely nothing! Don't you see how much you suffer?”
“It's of no concern to you of how I lead my life. I told you to leave me!”
“You need help, everyone sees that. Even your brother sees that! What's this pride doing for you, Vilkas? It's bringing you nothing but pain and pity from others. Do you want them to pity you?”
Vilkas was about to snap back, faltering. Because the Bosmer just kept going.
“If you just let ONE good thing come into your life, why do you feel like you need to suffer for it? Talk to me. Talk to your brother. I see a lonely person trapped inside of you and he needs to be free.”
“I am not a muse for some pathetic love story you're writing!” Vilkas howled, his voice far louder than he's ever used with him. It literally rattled the Bosmers ears, making him step back in alarm. But he wasn't going to give up.
“Kodlak is dead, you've known him almost your entire life, why do you feel like it's beneath you to mourn? cry? Even I cried when he left. These are things man and mer do! Even beasts weep for their dead!”
Vilkas heard that name again, and the harder he tried to unclench his throat, the harder it became to breathe. The Bosmer could see the pain cut across the Nords face like a slow, delicate knife. He couldn't hold back from saying it. “I could have done something. I could have fought harder.”
“It's the Silver Hand's fault he's dead, and none of it your own, Vilkas. You fought with all your heart, I know you did. That's all I could imagine you would do. You fight, fight and fight and Kodlak deserved every bit of it. He's in Sovngarde smiling down on you. I know it.”
Vilkas stopped fighting. His arms hung, his eyes downcast. He'd given up shoving the man to the door, choosing to stand in utter failure. The artist eased in, as if unknowing if he was to leap and swing at any moment..but he didnt.
He touched the man.
His voice came down, easy and careful. “I know he must have meant so much to you. He was a leader to you, and you followed. Now your alone and it's time to lead yourself.”
“He was a father to me..” Vilkas' voice was stretched yet unwavering, tight. “I can't imagine how many times I'd have died where it not for him guiding me. I owed him a longer life for the life he's given to me.”
Re: Muses and Mead 13 (Vilkas M/M)
“You already sound like a Harbinger. No need, What's done is done. There's no use in reviving old pains.” Vilkas said, quite poetically.
“I seriously doubt this is an old pain, my friend. A steel bearing can still break if the load becomes too heavy for too long.” He reached up and put a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it tenderly. Vilkas flinched, glaring at him flatly. “You know, your brother waits upstairs, wondering where you are. You should go see him.”
Vilkas said nothing, the Bosmer staring at him with those inky black eyes. It unnerved him how he couldn't see their pupils. The mer felt compassion, the hand becoming an arm going around Vilkas' back, another resting in his lap. Vilkas' skin crawled at the touch, feeling his personal space terrorized by something so gentle.
The nord shook his head. The beast inside whimpered, tail between it's legs. It didn't like this and Vilkas decided he didn't either. “Are you sure you can't?” His harbinger whispered, the feeling of his breath touched his cheek. Suddenly, Vilkas stood up and away, the bosmer still reaching out to him in surprise.
“Dammit why are you touching me? I want to be alone!” His eyes where pinpointed, his back stiff. He was a beast cornered but a heartbroken man. It was so obvious to see, it made the mer raise his voice in frustration. He's had enough.
“Why do you do this to yourself? You know full well you're bearing this great burden for absolutely nothing! Don't you see how much you suffer?”
“It's of no concern to you of how I lead my life. I told you to leave me!”
“You need help, everyone sees that. Even your brother sees that! What's this pride doing for you, Vilkas? It's bringing you nothing but pain and pity from others. Do you want them to pity you?”
Vilkas was about to snap back, faltering. Because the Bosmer just kept going.
“If you just let ONE good thing come into your life, why do you feel like you need to suffer for it? Talk to me. Talk to your brother. I see a lonely person trapped inside of you and he needs to be free.”
“I am not a muse for some pathetic love story you're writing!” Vilkas howled, his voice far louder than he's ever used with him. It literally rattled the Bosmers ears, making him step back in alarm. But he wasn't going to give up.
“Kodlak is dead, you've known him almost your entire life, why do you feel like it's beneath you to mourn? cry? Even I cried when he left. These are things man and mer do! Even beasts weep for their dead!”
Vilkas heard that name again, and the harder he tried to unclench his throat, the harder it became to breathe. The Bosmer could see the pain cut across the Nords face like a slow, delicate knife. He couldn't hold back from saying it. “I could have done something. I could have fought harder.”
“It's the Silver Hand's fault he's dead, and none of it your own, Vilkas. You fought with all your heart, I know you did. That's all I could imagine you would do. You fight, fight and fight and Kodlak deserved every bit of it. He's in Sovngarde smiling down on you. I know it.”
Vilkas stopped fighting. His arms hung, his eyes downcast. He'd given up shoving the man to the door, choosing to stand in utter failure. The artist eased in, as if unknowing if he was to leap and swing at any moment..but he didnt.
He touched the man.
His voice came down, easy and careful. “I know he must have meant so much to you. He was a leader to you, and you followed. Now your alone and it's time to lead yourself.”
“He was a father to me..” Vilkas' voice was stretched yet unwavering, tight. “I can't imagine how many times I'd have died where it not for him guiding me. I owed him a longer life for the life he's given to me.”