“It's going to be a very nasty ride home on that carriage. Now come, you wanted to get home quickly now we can't keep the poor man waiting.”
“...you bought a carriage too..” Vilkas deadpanned.
“I did! Aren't you glad? Treatment fit for a prince.” The bosmer was laughing and his damnable canines glinted in the piercing white of the day. This time there was no intimidation- Just pure and honest attraction. And the mer kept treating him like a prince even as he was helped up on the carriage, their bags stowed and horses roped to the side.
They where already off, rickety wheels crushing against snowy gravel and Vilkas' eyes on the pile of blankets at his side. The Bosmer pulled a hood over his head, watching how he tucked his soaked locks inside it and bundled a red cloth around his neck. Weakness began to claim him, his shoulders trembling from the cold whipping at his lanky limbs.
The bosmer laid a pelt on the floor of the carriage, between his spread legs. He was fussing with the others before with a simple “Come here, and sit” he beckoned the Nord to sit before him. As he did, brown blankets came lovingly around his shoulders, tucked behind his back and all around until the Nord was undeniably blushing. He looked up at the Bosmer and rested the back of his head against the mer's leg, idly watching the snow cling to the elf's unruly stubble.
Even in this land of bitter cold, Vilkas felt absolutely warm. He was a bundle of exhausted Nord with only part of his face exposed to the chill, a pair of blue eyes staring up until they fluttered and stayed shut. The artist smiled when it was clear he was down and out.
“Sleep well, Katlé ma” He lent down and placed a warm kiss to his forehead, hugging loosely around the Nord's bundled shoulders and choosing to rest his eyes as well. Their crabby old driver took a peek back, doubletaking before the bosmer's ear turned to a muttered “No lollygaggin' in my carriage, got it?” He chose to keep quiet.. and hug onto the man a little tighter.
Exhausted Vilkas slept the entire way home, not stirring from his slumber even once and thankfully, the ride was utterly peaceful. The sun hit it's highest point by the time they arrived into Whiterun province. Layers of soaked blankets where peeled from the sleeping man, but no rackety wheels or horses' whinny could wake him.
Whiterun's guards greet their thane honorably as the carriage passed by, Khajiit hailed their friend and the gates where ready to open at his beck and call.
When Vilkas' eyes opened again, he was being carried by someone.. He looked directly ahead and saw the Bosmer with a big smile on his face, waving up at him. There was black hair tickling his cheek and they where climbing some kind of stairway- he remembers now. The Gildergreen was before him and he wrapped his arms around the body who carried him, knowing now it was his dearest Farkas.
Jorrvaskr was warm. Vilkas' legs dangled limply in his brother's grip until he was let down to stand on his own, standing inches shorter than his twin. They where in the middle of a conversation, the Bosmer throwing their supplies off his back to be dealt with later. His brother suddenly wrenches his burly arms around him and crushes him with joy, Vilkas letting out a guttural yelp of surprise until his arms come around his brother and hug him..it feels like the first time in forever he'd done that.
He may have been in a zombie-like state from sheer exhaustion, but Vilkas still was able to feel something piercing the joyful return. He looked behind him, seeing Aela's cold glare from across the mead hall. It was enough for Vilkas to know that she felt betrayed- he's going to have to remember to steer clear of her for a while.
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timeasmymeasure
Purity 7
Date: 2013-03-09 05:42 am (UTC)“...you bought a carriage too..” Vilkas deadpanned.
“I did! Aren't you glad? Treatment fit for a prince.” The bosmer was laughing and his damnable canines glinted in the piercing white of the day. This time there was no intimidation- Just pure and honest attraction. And the mer kept treating him like a prince even as he was helped up on the carriage, their bags stowed and horses roped to the side.
They where already off, rickety wheels crushing against snowy gravel and Vilkas' eyes on the pile of blankets at his side. The Bosmer pulled a hood over his head, watching how he tucked his soaked locks inside it and bundled a red cloth around his neck. Weakness began to claim him, his shoulders trembling from the cold whipping at his lanky limbs.
The bosmer laid a pelt on the floor of the carriage, between his spread legs. He was fussing with the others before with a simple “Come here, and sit” he beckoned the Nord to sit before him. As he did, brown blankets came lovingly around his shoulders, tucked behind his back and all around until the Nord was undeniably blushing. He looked up at the Bosmer and rested the back of his head against the mer's leg, idly watching the snow cling to the elf's unruly stubble.
Even in this land of bitter cold, Vilkas felt absolutely warm. He was a bundle of exhausted Nord with only part of his face exposed to the chill, a pair of blue eyes staring up until they fluttered and stayed shut. The artist smiled when it was clear he was down and out.
“Sleep well, Katlé ma” He lent down and placed a warm kiss to his forehead, hugging loosely around the Nord's bundled shoulders and choosing to rest his eyes as well. Their crabby old driver took a peek back, doubletaking before the bosmer's ear turned to a muttered “No lollygaggin' in my carriage, got it?” He chose to keep quiet.. and hug onto the man a little tighter.
Exhausted Vilkas slept the entire way home, not stirring from his slumber even once and thankfully, the ride was utterly peaceful. The sun hit it's highest point by the time they arrived into Whiterun province. Layers of soaked blankets where peeled from the sleeping man, but no rackety wheels or horses' whinny could wake him.
Whiterun's guards greet their thane honorably as the carriage passed by, Khajiit hailed their friend and the gates where ready to open at his beck and call.
When Vilkas' eyes opened again, he was being carried by someone.. He looked directly ahead and saw the Bosmer with a big smile on his face, waving up at him. There was black hair tickling his cheek and they where climbing some kind of stairway- he remembers now. The Gildergreen was before him and he wrapped his arms around the body who carried him, knowing now it was his dearest Farkas.
Jorrvaskr was warm. Vilkas' legs dangled limply in his brother's grip until he was let down to stand on his own, standing inches shorter than his twin. They where in the middle of a conversation, the Bosmer throwing their supplies off his back to be dealt with later. His brother suddenly wrenches his burly arms around him and crushes him with joy, Vilkas letting out a guttural yelp of surprise until his arms come around his brother and hug him..it feels like the first time in forever he'd done that.
He may have been in a zombie-like state from sheer exhaustion, but Vilkas still was able to feel something piercing the joyful return. He looked behind him, seeing Aela's cold glare from across the mead hall. It was enough for Vilkas to know that she felt betrayed- he's going to have to remember to steer clear of her for a while.