“I’m fine,” he says, in case she missed it the first time. Wonderingly, he adds, “I think you just saved my life,” kicking the mangled remains away and then draping his arms around her. It’s awkward with how heavily he’s armored, but she clings even a little tighter, sniffling, so he figures he's doing alright.
“I didn't mean to,” she hiccups, pulling back and looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes, tears streaking through the coal dust on her face. “I was going to just shoot him but I didn't know if I’d be able to get to my arrows in time--it all happened so fast--”
“...I don't think I’ve ever had anyone apologize for saving my life before,” Vilkas says slowly, peering at her. He's guessing it's the comedown from the rush of battle. Maybe she's never dealt with it before. “Are you okay?”
She breaks off, wiping her eyes as she looks up at him. “I’m fine,” she says.
“Then we’re all fine,” he says. “And we’ll grab the Jarl’s coin and buy ourselves some mead at home. I think I’ve had all the excitement I can take for one day, don't you?”
She nods shakily, though she still looks upset. “I'll let you take first pick of the loot?” he offers.
“You’re really fine?” she asks suspiciously. “You aren't--angry?”
Vilkas shakes his head. “You are many things,” he says, “but you are far from cruel. I don't trust many mages...but I do trust you.”
“Oh. ...Okay,” she says. She takes a deep, shaky sigh, and releases him, wrapping her arms around herself. “Let’s clean up quickly. I don't want to stay here any longer than we have to.”
“Milady,” Vilkas says, with an exaggerated drawl and a sweeping bow, hoping to make her laugh. She gives a wet chuckle, at least, and that's a start.
They clean up quickly and quietly. Miri yelps when she springs a trap set above a chest, and Vilkas looks up in alarm, but she yells “no harm done!” Then he hears “ooh, a shiny friend--an amethyst, pretty,” and he smiles to himself, hefting the chief’s helm in his hand and deciding whether or not it’s something worth keeping.
They end up with a pretty decent haul, between them, Miri pocketing the amethyst she’d found and leaving the heavy armor she has no taste for with Vilkas. “I can make it better for you, though,” she says, as they’re walking home. “Eorlund has been teaching me how to smith.”
Every Companion knows basic smithing, he thinks, and then looks at her face, so hopeful. “That would be nice,” he says instead. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she says. “If you leave it in the chest by my bed when we get home, I’ll get right on it.”
“Sounds good.”
They lapse into silence for a bit. Vilkas can't help but notice that Miri’s sticking close--whether that's because of the scare today or because she’s using him as a windbreak, he can't say. He can at least tell that she's unsettled, looking back at him every once in awhile as her heart rate picks up, and then quickly focusing back on the path.
After the third or fourth round of this, Vilkas clears his throat. “Need something?” he asks.
“Oh,” Miri says, startled, stumbles a little. “No, um, I guess I was just going to say that...it means a lot. That you trust me. And I wanted to tell you that I do, too. I trust you.”
Miri’s face is beet-red, and her heart is racing. It should be a simple thing, two Companions able to trust one another, but the way she says it makes him think otherwise.
“Oh,” he says dumbfounded. It’s her gesture, why is he suddenly nervous? “I. Well. That's--great.” Her face falls, and he hastens to add “Really. I’m definitely going to let Kodlak know that I’m voting in your favor, to bring you in as a full member. I’m sure the others will do the same.”
That was apparently at least partially the right thing to say, as she gives him a little smile and settles back into stride, still just a step ahead and to his right. “Thank you,” she says. “You’ll still train me? Tomorrow?”
FILL: Vilkas/F!DB: "Lovers' Knot" 8/?
“I didn't mean to,” she hiccups, pulling back and looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes, tears streaking through the coal dust on her face. “I was going to just shoot him but I didn't know if I’d be able to get to my arrows in time--it all happened so fast--”
“...I don't think I’ve ever had anyone apologize for saving my life before,” Vilkas says slowly, peering at her. He's guessing it's the comedown from the rush of battle. Maybe she's never dealt with it before. “Are you okay?”
She breaks off, wiping her eyes as she looks up at him. “I’m fine,” she says.
“Then we’re all fine,” he says. “And we’ll grab the Jarl’s coin and buy ourselves some mead at home. I think I’ve had all the excitement I can take for one day, don't you?”
She nods shakily, though she still looks upset. “I'll let you take first pick of the loot?” he offers.
“You’re really fine?” she asks suspiciously. “You aren't--angry?”
Vilkas shakes his head. “You are many things,” he says, “but you are far from cruel. I don't trust many mages...but I do trust you.”
“Oh. ...Okay,” she says. She takes a deep, shaky sigh, and releases him, wrapping her arms around herself. “Let’s clean up quickly. I don't want to stay here any longer than we have to.”
“Milady,” Vilkas says, with an exaggerated drawl and a sweeping bow, hoping to make her laugh. She gives a wet chuckle, at least, and that's a start.
They clean up quickly and quietly. Miri yelps when she springs a trap set above a chest, and Vilkas looks up in alarm, but she yells “no harm done!” Then he hears “ooh, a shiny friend--an amethyst, pretty,” and he smiles to himself, hefting the chief’s helm in his hand and deciding whether or not it’s something worth keeping.
They end up with a pretty decent haul, between them, Miri pocketing the amethyst she’d found and leaving the heavy armor she has no taste for with Vilkas. “I can make it better for you, though,” she says, as they’re walking home. “Eorlund has been teaching me how to smith.”
Every Companion knows basic smithing, he thinks, and then looks at her face, so hopeful. “That would be nice,” he says instead. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she says. “If you leave it in the chest by my bed when we get home, I’ll get right on it.”
“Sounds good.”
They lapse into silence for a bit. Vilkas can't help but notice that Miri’s sticking close--whether that's because of the scare today or because she’s using him as a windbreak, he can't say. He can at least tell that she's unsettled, looking back at him every once in awhile as her heart rate picks up, and then quickly focusing back on the path.
After the third or fourth round of this, Vilkas clears his throat. “Need something?” he asks.
“Oh,” Miri says, startled, stumbles a little. “No, um, I guess I was just going to say that...it means a lot. That you trust me. And I wanted to tell you that I do, too. I trust you.”
Miri’s face is beet-red, and her heart is racing. It should be a simple thing, two Companions able to trust one another, but the way she says it makes him think otherwise.
“Oh,” he says dumbfounded. It’s her gesture, why is he suddenly nervous? “I. Well. That's--great.” Her face falls, and he hastens to add “Really. I’m definitely going to let Kodlak know that I’m voting in your favor, to bring you in as a full member. I’m sure the others will do the same.”
That was apparently at least partially the right thing to say, as she gives him a little smile and settles back into stride, still just a step ahead and to his right. “Thank you,” she says. “You’ll still train me? Tomorrow?”