Comment!Fic Page 1 - "Oh, a little bit of this...a little bit of that."

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Welcome to the new Comment!Fic Thread. Some of you may know what this is, and others may not - comment!fics are small one - two comment (the LJ word limit for comments) fills based off of one word or one sentence prompts. All ES games are welcome here, as well as the DLC's. Please don't disclose spoilers for Skyrim's DLCs in your prompt, and if you have them in your fill please place warnings.

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FILL: Vilkas/F!DB: "Lovers' Knot" 33/?

[(Anonymous)]

After a moment to set the supplies in the icy chest at the foot of the stairs into the monastery--must be to keep the perishables cold, Vilkas figures, smart--they approach the entry.

The door is large and impressive, exquisitely carved and clearly built to weather hundreds of years of snow and icy wind. Maybe more, Vilkas thinks, gazing up at the doorway. The place feels as ancient as some of the crypts he's been to, the stones seeming to thrum with their own sort of power.

"Well," Miri says, her voice a soft, raspy whisper. "This is it."

She pauses with her hand on the door. She seems nervous, and Vilkas can see why. Until now, only the rumor mill of Whiterun know what her role in Skyrim's destiny is. Swallowing a dragon soul by accident is one thing--going to find out what to do about it, from some of the most venerated souls in Tamriel, is another entirely.

"You'll be fine," Vilkas murmurs, putting a hand to her shoulder and squeezing, a gesture of support, understanding. "Whatever they'll ask of you...I know you can face it." I believe in you, he thinks. You can do this.

She flashes a grateful smile his way, and turns back, squaring her shoulders. She places both hands on the door and, after a steadying breath, gives a hard pull.

The door creaks as it bears way to a beautiful stone entryway. Vilkas drinks it all in--the elaborately carved dragon figures, the brazier for what he thinks is probably incense. A wizened man with a kindly smile walks toward them, coming down the stone steps. "So," he says, "the Dragonborn appears...at this moment, in the turning of the age. And her companion in tow." Vilkas inclines his head respectfully.

"I'm answering your summons," Miri says. "Vilkas is of the Companions, in Whiterun. He's come to aid me on the journey."

"We will see if you truly are the Dragonborn," he says. "Your voice. It sounds weakened. Are you well?"

"We were attacked by a frost troll on the way up," Vilkas says. "It did its best to crush her windpipe. But she fought bravely."

"It is good to hear, though we are not generally advocates of violence," he says. "We seek peace above all else. But, of course...times being what they are, we understand that heroes must walk a different path." He extends a hand in greeting. "My name is Arngeir. Welcome, Dragonborn...?"

"Miri," she says quickly. "Pleased to meet you."

"And welcome to you as well, Vilkas," Arngeir adds. "Unfortunately, I will need to test that Miri truly is who she says she is--I will need to taste of her Voice."

"Will I be able to?" Miri asks, looking unsure. "I can barely speak above a whisper right now. Even after healing myself."

"There is a difference between healing fresh from a battle, and resting recovery. We have many remedies for the throat." His eyes twinkle as he adds, "In our line of study, it becomes a necessity. So do not fear. We will teach you how to perform your shout relying on your soul, and to separate it from your speaking voice."

He turns to Vilkas. "And for this, you will not likely be able to stay. Most ears cannot withstand the violent tones of our Thu'um." He pierces Vilkas with a knowing look. "And, if things are as they have been in the past, I'm given to understand that you of the Companions have particularly sensitive hearing."

"...Some of us," Vilkas agrees grudgingly. He isn't sure how he feels about the fact that the Greybeards apparently know the secret of the Companions. "We aren't all that way."

"As is custom, I'm led to understand," Arngeir agrees. "Nevertheless. As her traveling companion, I imagine you wish to stay--but it is impossible. Even the short few days of training would materially impact your hearing."

"There has to be something we can do," Miri presses. "Please. He came with me all this way..."

"It's okay, Miri," Vilkas says, and smiles. "I have a few errands to run in Riften. And since we know where the troll nest is now, I'll be perfectly safe on my own. And you're well-protected here, of course. So I can make the trip, and then come back to rejoin you on the way back to Whiterun."

"There's no sense in you making the trip twice," Miri says, frowning. "I'll do my training, and then I'll meet you in Ivarstead." She turns to Arngeir. "When should I expect to finish?"