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" 45/?

[(Anonymous)]

In truth, Vilkas doesn't feel much better, but he's more practiced at hiding it. "They seem to be drawn to heights," he says. "The top of that guard tower, circling around the peak like this. I think our best chances are to stay low on our mounts, run the through the valley as quickly as we can, and hope it grabs some mountain creatures as easier pickings."

Miri shivers. "And if that doesn't work?"

"You're a fine shot," he says. "And it's a beast like any other. You bring it down to me with arrows and magic. I run in and attack its hindquarters, see if I can pierce its belly while it's snapping at me. You stay at a range, if you can, see if you can get it with something it's weak to, hit it with another arrow if it tries to fly up again."

Miri draws in a shaky breath, lets it out slow. "Alright," she says. "I don't like it, but it's a plan."

"Stay close to me," he murmurs, and they urge the horses into a gallop.

The baying of his wolf keeps Vilkas calm - he'll draw on his power if he needs to. If it's to keep her safe. The wolf isn't afraid of the hunt, the chase - the wolf is rarely prey, and delights in taking down creatures twice its size...especially to protect a mate.

But better to protect by avoidance, if they can. Come on, Vilkas thinks, and urges his mare faster.

Fortunately, the horses carry them away from the mountain without incident. As the horses tire, they cautiously slow and, with a last glance to the skies, they straighten and pull up to a stop.

Vilkas's pulse is pounding in his ears, and Miri looks badly shaken but otherwise unharmed. "You okay?" he asks, and she nods. "Let's go," he says, and urges the horses into a trot as they ride up to the town.

...

Morthal is just as swampy and horrible as Vilkas dimly remembered it. "We should ask around, see if someone can point us in the right direction," Vilkas says. "Maybe we can rent a room, get some rest and then..."

"I'm talking to the Jarl," Miri says, mouth set in a hard line as they dismount. "With a dragon that close to his hold, he needs to know."

"Miri--" He starts, and then stops, wondering how he should phrase it. "I'm not sure that's a good idea," he says finally.

Miri raises an extremely dubious eyebrow. "You don't think telling the local Jarl that a dragon is circling the nearest mountain range is a good idea?"

"She," Vilkas says, "She's a woman. And it's not that," he says hurriedly, as Miri's other eyebrow rises to join the first. "She's...well. She's..."

"She's what, Vilkas," Miri snaps.

"The town thinks she's a sorcereress," Vilkas says, regretting it the instant it leaves his mouth.

Miri recoils, stung. "Oh, and that's some crime, now?" she says, the hurt palpable in her voice underneath the anger. "I suppose you're going to tell me I misunderstood you."

"Yes," Vilkas gasps desperately, lunging to grip Miri's shoulders as he fumbles to explain. "It's not--she's not like you, with your sword, and your...the townsfolk don't trust her. What she does, it's unnatural--she let a wizard take up residence in the town--"

Miri yanks herself out of his grasp. "Then maybe we'd better have a talk. It sounds like she could use a friendly ear," she says, voice gone icy cold, "from someone who's just as sick of rumors and mistrust every time she goes for spell over shield!"

She slaps her reins at Vilkas, who catches them against his chest unthinkingly, staring after her as she marches into Highmoon Hall, nose held high. One of the guards looks to stop her, but stands aside hastily after a few words Vilkas doesn't catch.

Miri's horse whickers softly. "...She's coming back, right?" he asks. "She wouldn't just leave you behind."

The mare gives a dismissive snort and paws the ground. "Thanks for that vote of confidence," he mutters. "Women. Guess we'll wait for her at the inn."

His own mare gives a disgruntled huff, and won't be budged. "Not you too," he groans, and digs around in his pockets for a carrot. "Come on, you stubborn--"

There's a snicker behind him, like the sound of a little girl laughing, but when Vilkas turns, no one's there except a bored-looking guard.

"I hate this place," Vilkas grumbles, and drags the horses to the inn.