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.

Comments

M!Werewolf/F!DB knotting kink, multiple orgasms

[(Anonymous)]

I'd love a smutfic with a werewolf character (not transformed) rutting with the F!DB for the first time since getting the beast blood and suddenly knotting inside her, and coming again and again seemingly endlessly.

Bonus points: Doggy style position,

Werewolf panicking that he's hurting F!DB,

F!DB bossing him around and demanding an equal number of orgasms as he had

Re: M!Werewolf/F!DB knotting kink, multiple orgasms

[(Anonymous)]

Seconded like omg.

FILL: Vilkas/F!DB: "Lovers' Knot" 1/?

[(Anonymous)]

So, you asked for a smutfic and got a novella. Sorry. ._. It's coming soon, I promise.

Miri. New recruit of the Companions, and responsible for nearly all of Vilkas's recent problems.

He'd been standoffish at first when she'd been welcomed into the Companions with open arms, suspicious of her earnestness, her warmth. Life has not been kind to many of them, so when she wanders in, seemingly innocent and with no real taste or talent for hand-to-hand combat, he's angry. The rest of them had to prove their way in, had to pull their weight. For her to just--waltz in, unknowing of the sacrifices they've made, the dedication...

To make matters worse, he can hear her heart thumping erratically when Vilkas comes near her, and that only irritates him more. He dislikes her, but he'll respect Kodlak's decision. Whatever his personal feelings on the matter, she's still his Shield-sister in training.

He could laugh when Farkas gives her a shakedown mission. The thought of the tiny Breton intimidating a housecat is laughable, let alone another person.

He's polishing his shield when she comes back with a bloodied lip and a black eye, stiff-backed and maybe even a little proud. "It's done," she tells Farkas. "May the crowd at the Bannered Mare be my witness. What else is there for me to do?"

"Nothing tonight," Farkas says firmly, but not unkindly. He's always been trusting. Probably gave her an easy target. "You need to rest. Have Tilma see to your face."

"Hm?" She touches a hand to her lip, and then goes chalk-pale when her finger comes back with the blood. "Oh," she says, and brings her hands to her face. A warm, golden light surriounds her--she's using magic, Vilkas realizes, shouts, grabs her shoulders--

Miri stumbles backwards, light winking out of her hands. "Vilkas?" she says uncertainly, looks at him with a clear, open face. "What's wrong?"

"You're a magic user," he snarls, yanking his hands back. "Most of us here are proud of our battle scars. No wonder you're soft."

His blood is boiling. He storms downstairs into his room and slams the door shut. He has just enough presence of mind to lock it and strip out of his armor before he loses his grip to the wolf entirely, shredding through his padded clothing, arms lengthening, claws sharpening.

He feels oddly better and worse, once it's done. His emotions are always blunted in wolf form--if it's not about the hunt, the wolf doesn't care nearly as much. Except, apparently, all his wolf wants to do today is nose into the mess of his blankets and sulk.

He isn't angry, he realizes. He's hurt. How could Kodlak have trusted her, letting a magic user into a group of warriors?

There's a sharp knock at his door. "Brother," Farkas calls. "She's done nothing to you. You need to come out and apologize."

Fat chance of that. Vilkas isn't sorry for what he said. She thinks she can waltz in with fancy magic, take over the only pack-family he's ever had, the only stable roof over his head?

He growls. Farkas understands his noises, he'll know a 'fuck off' when he hears one.

"Fine," Farkas says, "but you're being a child about this. She's nice. Get to know her instead of sulking."

That's Farkas for you. He's blunt, but he cares about Vilkas, and he's hardly ever wrong. The first gnawings of guilt chew at him.

Still. He's going to stay here, in his den, the one his pack protects, where it's warm and safe and has no magic or enchantments of any kind. Just for a little while longer.

...

Vilkas drowses for a while. He can't fall completely asleep, not anymore, but he's able to rest his eyes and quiet his mind, almost more a meditation than anything. So, he's groggy when he sits up back in his human form, yelps when Kodlak is sitting in the chair opposite his bed. "Hello, Vilkas," Kodlak says, warm and mischievous. "I hope I didn't disturb you."

"The door was locked," Vilkas points out, hastily covering more of himself with the blanket. He's hoping it to come out as a grumble but it ends up sounding more like a whine. Kodlak always brings that out in him.

"I have my ways," Kodlak says. "I hear that you and our new recruit are at odds?"

FILL: Vilkas/F!DB: "Lovers' Knot" 2/?

[(Anonymous)]

"I don't know how you would expect otherwise," he says. "Her, a magic user."

"And we of the inner Circle don't rely upon magic?" Kodlak asks, looking pointedly down at the shredded clothing on Vilkas's floor.

"It isn't the same," he says stiffly. "We're experienced warriors. We prove ourselves before we're allowed to become--what we are. Ours has a price."

"Aye, that it does," Kodlak sighs. "But so does hers. Still, I would understand if you were angry with me for allowing her to train here. Just know that you and she are more alike than you might think."

"I'm not angry with you," Vilkas says quickly. And he isn't, really. Kodlak's people-sense has always been sound. And it's true that they have no shortage of teachers. "I'm just...why her," he says finally.

That's the heart of it, really. He's baffled as to why she, of all the hopefuls who've come to train and learn, made it in, where they've sent others of her ilk to priesthoods or serving positions. Especially with her magic being that strong, it would make more sense for her to be there, unlikely that she'll ever need to rely on any of the skills they teach her.

Besides, she's soft, noble-soft, with a pretty face and high cheekbones. They're probably just a stopping point for her before she lets some lord wed and knock her up, goes back to riches and comfort. She's no Aela, deft-armed and sharp-tongued, no Njada, gruff and square and sturdy. She doesn't even have Ria's guts or ambition--she's squeamish and seems perfectly happy to follow orders. Stay put, do as she's told, do simple chores around town.

Yes, she'll make someone a perfectly boring, subservient housewife, but she's not fit for a moment to be a Companion.

"Why her indeed," Kodlak says. 'Do you know who she is, Vilkas?"

"Besides a field mouse in a den of wolves?"

Kodlak laughs. "As she well knows," he says. "She, Vilkas--she is the Dragonborn."

Vilkas's jaw drops. "The Dragonborn?" he asks. "Please tell me you're joking."

Kodlak shakes his head, a twinkle in his eye. "No, my lad. Body of a mortal and the soul of a dragon. I, too, had my doubts, but the guards who were with her in the field confirmed her story for me. She is currently housing the soul of the dragon that was slain just outside of Whiterun."

"By the Nine," Vilkas swears. Gods, they're all doomed. He can't think of anyone possibly less suited to be a hero of legend. Maybe Olava the Feeble, but she seems like a crafty old lady, at least. Miri doesn't have a crafty bone in her body.

"She came to me and asked for our help, in desperation," Kodlak continues. "She's honest, and wise beyond her years. She knows that she's unsuited for the task--no one has magic enough to take down a dragon with raw skill alone, without an ounce of combat training. She knows that she needs to improve, and quickly. She's already come quite far in a week."

Vilkas supposes, grudgingly, that that's true. He knows that Aela has been working with her on her archery, since she’d said she had some experience at that, at least. Dizzily, he realizes that they've been practicing with flying targets, working on her aim. To shoot a tiny chink in a dragon's scaly armor, presumably.

"She is young," Kodlak says. "And she is helpless. She has no family to speak of, at least none that she knows about--she was mistakenly captured with a band of other Stormcloak soldiers at the border, and in the shuffle she was hit on the head and lost all of her memory.

"Not to mention her coin purse," Kodlak continues. "She's been working double-time, running errands for the townsfolk and the Jarl's steward during the day to have the coin for us to train her at night--we offered it to her for free, but she was insistent that we not give her any special treatment. It is a destiny that she doesn't want, for a people that aren't necessarily even hers--but she is facing it, because it's the honorable thing to do." He looks Vilkas in the eye, and gives him another one of those enigmatic Kodlak smiles. "What past she does or doesn't have, she has chosen us as her present. And I think that shows considerable bravery, do you not?"

FILL: Vilkas/F!DB: "Lovers' Knot" 3/?

[(Anonymous)]

Warning in this part and the next for non-graphic descriptions of (past) torture.

He can honestly say he's stunned. And a little guilty--Kodlak needing to come and lecture him like a naughty little boy, rather than a fully-fledged adult Companion. He opens his mouth to speak, and whatever he might have said is lost in a mighty, booming roar, so powerful it rattles the stone foundations of Jorrvaskr. It's female, and with a start, he realizes that he recognizes the voice.

"Ah, Miri's evening vocal training," Kodlak says, and chuckles to himself. He stands, and pats Vilkas's shin through the covers. "I know you have your doubts. She may be a field mouse now, as you say, but I think we'll make a she-wolf out of her yet."

...

Vilkas tries several times to drop back into his meditation, but his concentration keeps skittering away from him. He feels guilty when the others come back laughing their past his door, all clearly having had some mead, and then Miri, of all people, hushes them quiet.

He may not like her, but that doesn't mean he wants her to tiptoe around him.

The Dragonborn is afraid of you, his conscience whispers at him. Your future shield-sister.

Vilkas huffs. If she can't take a little well-placed criticism, she's in the wrong line of work.

Which she knows. And it isn't work she chose.

....Gods damn it all. He's obviously going to have to resort to other methods to calm himself tonight.

He opens his door, noting the little scuffs along the keyhole, and laughs reluctantly, imagining Kodlak picking the lock like a common thief to come in and talk to him. It's fine, though. He'll work his muscles to exhaustion, eat his fill, and then head back in and rest for the few hours before sunrise. He’ll make an effort to be friendlier to the whelp of a girl in the morning.

Except, when he's re-armored and ready, stepping into the cool night air of the Jorrvaskr balcony, who should be there but Miri herself.

She doesn't seem to notice that he's come out, single-mindedly focused on the straw dummy. She has a battleaxe in her hand--must have borrowed it from someone--and is blindly hacking away at the target. He can see the muscles in her arms shaking--she's clearly over-training herself, taxed to the point of exhaustion. And she doesn't even have the beast blood to fall back on.

"Miri," he says, and she yelps as she loses her grip, only barely avoids slicing her own foot off as she leaps out of the way of her own axe.

Well. Agile he'll give her.

"Vilkas," she gasps. Her heart is hammering. "I'm so sorry, did we wake you? We were trying to be quiet."

"I was awake," he says, picks up the axe and hefts it. It's cheap iron, but it's clearly been lovingly crafted. "Don't sleep much."

"Oh," she says. "Okay. Sorry. I, um. I don't sleep much either, so I thought, well, if I can't sleep, at least I can be productive and train..."

She trails off, tucking a lock of coppery hair behind her ear. "Obviously nearly maiming myself wasn't part of the plan," she mumbles, crouching to pull a little green bottle out of her satchel.

Now that Vilkas is looking, he can see the toll the past few weeks have taken on her. She's built muscle, but she's also increasingly thin, the dark circles under her eyes a telling testament to sleepless nights. He curses himself for not seeing it sooner. He should've been looking out for their newest member, and instead all he did was yell at her. Judge her, based on nothing but his own hatred and mistrust of magic, when all he's ever seen her do is healing and wards. Protection and self-defense.

He closes a hand around her wrist, and she looks up at him, surprised. "You don't need that," he says, as gently as he knows how. "You're running out of stamina quickly because your form isn't good, and you're overtired, so you'll be more prone to make mistakes."

FILL: Vilkas/F!DB: "Lovers' Knot" 4/?

[(Anonymous)]

To his surprise, she scowls. "I know my form isn't good," she snaps. "I know I don't have any real gift for this. But I'm trying to train out here where I'm not bothering anyone, do you have to keep mocking me when I'm trying my hardest to get better--"

"I wasn't--!" he starts, and then blows out a breath, reins his temper in. Mercy, how she gets under his skin sometimes. "I wasn't trying to mock you," he says. "I was trying to help."

She looks at him warily, but doesn't say anything. That's a good sign, he guesses. "And I suppose I--owe you an apology for this morning, too," he says. "I lost my temper. I know you're working hard. Magic and I don't mix very well--I don't know if Farkas said anything..."

"He didn't," Miri says flatly, and then sighs, wipes her hands over her face. "But apology accepted. I know I don't fit in here. And I know this place is important to you both. I just--I don't have anywhere else to go."

Her voice cracks on the last syllable, and Vilkas's own heart gives a guilty lurch. "You've done nothing wrong," he murmurs, turning over the blade of her axe. "Farkas and I were alone too, when Kodlak took us in. Our parents were worshippers of Talos--they were killed in the night by Thalmor mages, spying on the Empire. We woke up when we heard them scream and hid under the beds for--hours."

It's been awhile since he's told this story, and he swallows around the lump in his throat. He can feel Miri's eyes on him, but after how he's treated her he thinks she's owed an explanation, at the very least. "They were both tortured by magic--burned and frozen, over and over again. They'd have done the same to us, if they caught us," he says. "We ran for miles until we ended up in Whiterun. We were hungry by morning, and Farkas smelled the food they'd set out for the warriors' breakfast, right on the balcony where we are now." He grins at the memory despite himself. "Kodlak quite literally caught us with our fingers in the pie."

"Vilkas," Miri says softly.

"I know you aren't them," he says, chuckles a little. "You couldn't possibly be, you go grey in the face at the sight of a little blood."

She laughs a little too, and he looks up at her, gives her a lopsided smile. "So," he says, "That's my sob story. I'm sorry if I--reacted poorly. I just wanted to say that...Kodlak told me a little about your situation, and I know what it's like, to have nowhere else to turn to. And I didn't mean to make you feel unwelcome. I'm sure Kodlak is right, and with a little more training you'll do just fine."

She looks at him, and then reaches out, rubs his shoulder. "I'm sorry about your parents," she says. "And I'm sorry for startling you; I didn't mean to. But I appreciate you telling me. I hope we can be better friends, for the future."

Vilkas nods firmly, and then realizes he's still gripping her wrist where she's holding the potion. Startled, he drops her wrist, and he can feel a blush creeping up the back of his neck. "No potions," he grumbles. "You need real food, and a rest. If you want help with this," he says, handing her axe back, "You can come and find me, any time. I'll teach you."

"I think you've seen that I need all the help I can get," Miri says sheepishly, a blush of her own staining her cheeks. At least he's not the only one feeling awkward. She sits down at the table, and picks up an apple. Bless Tilma for always leaving food out. "Are you going to join me?" she asks, gesturing to the empty chair across from her.

"Nah, I'm going to try and go back to bed," he lies. He'll at least relax with a book for a little while, try to clear his mind. "I mean it, Miri. Don't stay up too late."

FILL: Vilkas/F!DB: "Lovers' Knot" 5/?

[(Anonymous)]

"I won't," she says, and it feels like just as much a lie as his, but she's smiling and relaxed when she says it. "Thanks, Vilkas. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," he agrees. He opens the door back into the hall, and blows out a long breath.

Well. That could've gone a lot worse, he thinks, and smiles to himself as he jogs back down to his room.

...

Vilkas is sitting down to breakfast the next morning when Miri stumbles up the stairs. She's flushed and clearly disoriented, nearly trips over her own feet as she hurries to sit at the table. "Sorry," she mumbles, and lets out a jaw-cracking yawn as she pulls her hair out of a messy plait, anxiously combs her fingers through it. "Had a bit of a late start this morning."

"Ahh, my favorite drinking buddy," Torvar proclaims, throwing an arm around her shoulders. "We have a bit too much fun with you last night? That wasn't your first sip of mead, was it?"

"She was training last night, well after you presumably fell into your drunken stupor," Vilkas cuts in. "Unlike some others I could name, Miri likely actually possesses some self-control."

Ria's jaw drops across the table. Athis and Farkas, squabbling about weaponry as usual, fall silent at the increased tension, and Njida raises an eyebrow, which is about as much surprise as anyone ever gets from her anyway. "Oho!" Torvar shouts, delighted. "Leaping to her defense, are we, shield-brother? How noble of you."

"Oh, stop it, both of you," Aela huffs, reaching over and cradling Miri protectively. "She's a Breton, Torvar, of course she can hold her liquor." Miri flashes her a grateful look, and Aela ruffles her hair. "And she's getting to be a damn fine shot, too. I'd watch your mouth if I were you."

"Doomed to live my life surrounded by dangerous beauties," Torvar sighs happily. "Miri, my darling, all I am saying is, the next time you feel the need for a little 'late-night sparring'...you can come for me any time."

"You're disgusting," Ria sniffs. "Get your mind out of the gutter."

"Once a gutter-snipe, always a gutter-snipe," Torvar says easily, his face sliding into a lazy grin. "But we know a few more tricks than those nobles, eh?" He spreads two fingers and makes an obscene gesture.

Vilkas thinks Aela may actually throw a punch for a minute, but Skjor walks in and spreads his hands wide. "Calm down, everyone. We all have better things to do than squabble at the breakfast table--for instance, helping Tilma clear it. Farkas--you're excused from cleaning duties; I need a word, please."

Farkas stands and follows Skjor into his office. Vilkas reaches for his empty plate, but Miri does, too. Their hands brush and she jumps, her heart starting to pound. One night isn't enough to clear her fear, Vilkas guesses, but a small, treacherous part of him is disappointed anyway. "I got it," Vilkas says, "but thanks."

"I can at least get his tankard," she insists, picking it up, and they share a careful smile.

"Torvar's tastelessness aside," he says, "if you want to spar today, I don't have any other plans." Partially because it's technically his day off from missions, but he wouldn't want her to think she was imposing.

"Really?" she breathes. "Oh, that would be fantastic. Um, let's see...I /was/ going to clear out a bandit cave for the Jarl today, but I suppose it can wait for another day or two, if you have time this afternoon?"

"I could go with you," he offers. "Someone to watch your back. Then we could come back here and train afterwards, if you're feeling up to it."

"That sounds nice," she says. "I would really appreciate that. I'll happily split the bounty with you, if you like."

Vilkas shakes his head. "I'll get to see you in action," he says. "Aela says it's something to see. That's well worth the price of admission."

"You at least have to take some of the loot home, then," she says, a hand pressed to her hip. "Last time I cleared out a group they had a lot of nice weapons and armor. I couldn't carry it all myself."

"I can do that," he agrees, and then smirks. "Wouldn't want you too tired to train, after all."

She grins at him. "Not a chance."

FILL: Vilkas/F!DB: "Lovers' Knot" 6/?

[(Anonymous)]

Vilkas gets a nudge at his calf, and he turns to see Farkas, eying him and Miri. "I can take over," he says, crouching at the washing-tub, and Miri smiles and hands him the drying rag. "All yours," she says, "Vilkas, I'm going to go get my pack together, and then I'll be ready to go. I'll meet you out front of the gate in half an hour or so?"

"Alright," he agrees. He can feel Farkas's eyes on him as he watches her go, and he turns to him after the hall door closes behind her. "What?" he says.

"Only you're allowed to tease her?" Farkas says, face sliding into a grin. "And here I was thinking you were destined to be mortal enemies."

Gods damn it. For someone who barely picks up a book, Farkas is way too perceptive for his own good. "There's a line between teasing her and making fun of her," he says, bristling. "And we had a talk last night. She's a good girl."

"Mhm," Farkas says calmly. "So you're accompanying her to clear out a bandit cave on your rest day."

"Well, someone needs to watch her back," Vilkas snaps. "I'm not leaving the newly-trained recruit alone with a bunch of men and women twice her size."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Farkas says. He knows full well that neither of them sleeps after the transformation.

Vilkas throws his soapy rag at his brother and stomps inside, cheeks hot. He has packing of his own to do.

…

The walk to the camp feels impossibly short, despite the fact that it's considerably far away from Whiterun, and Vilkas is used to sprinting in his shifted form.

Maybe it's because he's not used to to traveling with any of his shield-siblings anymore, but it's nice to have someone to talk to on the trip west. Or rather, listen to--Miri keeps up a stream of nervous chatter where Vilkas can hardly get a word in edgewise.

She’s done enough for the Jarl that he wants to make her one of his Thanes, apparently. Vilkas thinks it’s a political move to make the Dragonborn loyal to his city more than any real kindness, but he can't bring himself to interrupt her while she talks about her big plans to buy the long-abandoned Breezehome, next to Adrianne’s, and bring it up to modern standards. “Not that living in Jorrvaskr with everyone hasn't been wonderful,” she adds hurriedly, like he might take offense. “But it would be nice to have a place all my own to come back to. A safe place, inside a nice city, with lots of other children running around…” She gets a misty look in her eye. “Be able to settle down, after the fighting’s all over. It'll probably be quite a while before that happens, though.”

“No shame in investing in the future,” Vilkas says, after a pause to jump over a rocky cliff. “If that sort of thing keeps your spirits up.”

“Well, that’s what I think, too,” Miri says firmly, smiling at him, and she’s off to the races again, books she's read about people whose fortunes have dramatically changed after the Great War, for better and for worse.

Vilkas is utterly charmed, despite his best instincts. Dragonborn Miri Wins All To Cause With Positive Attitude, he imagines the courier pamphlets reading, and has to stifle a laugh as she talks very seriously about how she’d like to keep bees in her future garden.

Gods help him, she’s smart and funny, full of big plans and ideas. Vilkas has never seen the appeal of the dreamy, waifish things Torvar blithers on about, and he doesn't think Miri is quite that naive, but there's definitely a certain appeal to her honest exuberance, now that he’s looking for it.

Farkas wasn't wrong to like her, he thinks. They might even do well together, should he be interested. Maybe he’ll talk to his brother about it when they get back to Jorrvaskr, if she proves herself today.

With great reluctance, he hushes her as they draw closer to the bandit camp. “Oh, sorry, am I talking too much again,” she says, and Vilkas huffs a laugh, shakes his head and puts a finger to his lips. “Shh,” he murmurs. “We’re getting close now, just over that hill. I would draw your bow, were I you.”

“Oh!” she gasps, and then drops into a crouch. There's a loud clatter and raucous laughter from the camp, and her eyes go big and round.

FILL: Vilkas/F!DB: "Lovers' Knot" 7/?

[(Anonymous)]

Warning in this part and next for graphic descriptions of death (bandits).

“Stealth,” he murmurs, and she nods, and then sets her face in a look of grim determination as she notches an arrow, draws her bow taut.

She is, to his surprise, a phenomenal shot. Though he supposes he shouldn't have been, if Aela vouched for her. Still, the girl is accurate and deadly, arrows neatly lined up and hitting their mark straight through the vocal chords.

“Quickly,” Vilkas murmurs, once she's taken out all of her targets. “Let’s go inside before they notice anyone is absent. You keep picking them off, and I’ll clean up if you miss one.”

“Understood,” she whispers. “Let’s move.”

She’s like a completely different person with the adrenaline coursing through her, swift and sure despite the uneven footing as they make their way through the tunnel. Vilkas is impressed at the change--perhaps she has warrior instincts after all.

Or...well, not completely different, as one of their targets goes down with a particularly wet snick and a gurgle of blood, and Miri makes the most appalled and disgusted face Vilkas has ever seen from a supposed warrior. “Ew, he got blood on me,” she pouts, wiping it off on a corner of the dirt cave wall, and Vilkas has to bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud as she hisses “grossgrossgrossgross get it off.”

“No one ever tell you that blood is tacky, sweetling?” He doesn't know what compels him to throw the teasing endearment in, but it's worth it for the shock and then deadly look she shoots him.

“I know well more than a man ever will about blood, thank you very much,” she huffs. “That doesn't mean I like seeing it. Especially not on my shoes.”

This time, it’s Vilkas’s turn to gape. “Point taken,” he concedes, squeezing his eyes shut briefly as another telltale blush snakes its way onto his face. Okay, so she's feistier than he’d given her credit for. Maybe she's a bit much for Farkas after all. “Let’s keep moving,” he says, with an embarrassed cough.

The look she gives him as she saunters by him, fresh arrow notched, tells him she didn't miss it.

From there, it’s smooth sailing. The cave opens up enough that she's able to pick people off one by one, and then leads into a larger room with a still-burning cooking fire, pot sizzling on the stove. “That's odd,” she whispers, looking around as Vilkas steps into the room. “I really thought they’d have a chief--Vilkas!”

Her scream makes him startle away from the axe blade that certainly would have severed his shoulder, if not cut right through him. He hears a clatter, and she shouts “I’m so sorry.” Fantastic, he thinks, staggered by the chieftain's blow to his shield that comes immediately after, right when he actually really does kind of need her--

A jet of flame sails past him, and he whips his head around to see Miri, bow dropped, both hands outstretched and lit with dual columns of flame, combining into one massive stream. The bandit chieftain screams in agony, and Vilkas quickly recovers and lops his head off with one neat blow.

The fire dies down immediately, and Miri lets out a wet, gasping sob, running over to him. “Vilkas,” she chokes, “are you okay, are you hurt, please tell me you’re alright--”

“I’m fine,” he says faintly. The stench of burning flesh is making him sick, dizzy.

“I’m so sorry,” she hiccups, and to his great shock, flings herself at him, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug. “I didn't mean to use magic, I panicked, I wasn't thinking, and after we just talked about it, you must hate me--”

She breaks down into quiet sobs. She’s still holding onto him, and with some effort, Vilkas looks down at the charred, twisted corpse of the chieftain lying beneath them, arms still raised to strike a killing blow. Then he looks back down at Miri, skin ashen and weeping on his chest.

FILL: Vilkas/F!DB: "Lovers' Knot" 8/?

[(Anonymous)]

“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" 9/?

[(Anonymous)]

“Of course,” Vilkas says. “But I think first thing after breakfast might be best.”

“I promise I won't run off and slay anything this time,” she teases. “And, by the way--I appreciate you letting me use you as a windbreak. Skyrim is so cold after dark.”

He laughs. Knew it. “Any time. It'd be a serious blow to the Companions' pride if I let the rookie freeze to death under my watch.”

“So it would,” she agrees, sighing. “It's nights like these I really wish Jorrvaskr had more a little more fur to sleep under.”

Vilkas swallows hard at the image her words call up. His wolf-spirit practically slams against his chest, begging to be let out.

Down, boy, he thinks, and rolls his eyes heavenward. Sometimes being half-wolf is a damned nuisance.

Still, apparently his wolf likes her, and he can't afford to lose his control around her. Maybe he'll see if he can't get Hulda to recommend a lady for the evening after he sees Miri back to Jorrvaskr.

…

Early the next morning, there’s a soft knock at his door. “Vilkas,” Miri whispers. “Are you awake?”

Vilkas cracks a bleary eye open. It's rare that he's actually able to sleep--he supposes a fight and a fuck must have taken it out of him, and his wolf is humming contentedly. He can still smell the mingled scent of goatskin and the acrid tang of contraceptive potion, and of course, the naked woman on his chest.

There’s a shift and a huff from outside his door. Vilkas sighs inwardly and extricates himself, grabbing his smallclothes to cover himself before he sticks his head out the door. “Yes?”

Miri’s cheerful, face a freshly-scrubbed pink, hair plaited back and out of her way. She’s holding her helmet on her hip, but she's armored the rest of the way. “Ready when you are,” she whispers. “For training, I mean.”

Vilkas looks at her. Looks back at the girl who's asleep in his bed, still naked. Looks back at Miri, armor clinking softly as she fidgets.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” he sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face and yawning. “Let me get my armor.”

…

“It's all in the swing,” Vilkas insists. “Have to get enough muscle behind it when you sweep. And you’re not going to be able to do that if you’re choked up on it like that.”

Miri’s drenched in sweat, curls escaping her plaited braid to lie matted against her forehead. “You said that the last four times,” she huffs. “I was doing fine with the wooden staff. But the weight is heavier at the front with a real blade; if I choke up on it less I lose control of it.”

“Hold your stomach tighter, then,” Vilkas says. “Firm up your stance before you swing.” He leans into her to correct her hand placement. “Like this,” he says, guiding her through the movement. “You can do it. Again.”

Miri faces the dummy, eyes flashing. With a grunt of effort, she drives it down in one swift vertical stroke, generating enough power to snap through the bindings holding the straw together. “Oh,” she says. “That felt good.”

“Congratulations,” Vilkas tells her, and he sincerely means it--she has done tremendously, with very little coaching. Then he sweeps his arm across, showing the set of dummies he’s set up across the porch. “You show me five more of those, and we can go back to working on your blocking.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren't you,” she accuses, huffing. “Are we sure I can't just light them all on fire?”

“This was your idea,” Vilkas reminds her. He's trying to rein in his smugness, but it's not a strong effort. “We can stop any time.”

“No,” she sighs, “I need to be able to fight with any weapon I come across. I'll drill it again.”

“Next week we’ll have you running at the targets,” Vilkas informs her cheerfully. “And then we’ll try you out on the small animal population and see how it goes.”

“Ugh,” Miri groans, and squares her stance.

FILL: Vilkas/F!DB: "Lovers' Knot" 10/?

[(Anonymous)]

Apologies for the long delay! Here's the next bit.

They train together for another two weeks. Once Miri really /gets/ the form, she gets more comfortable and confident with her attacks each day. Vilkas thinks that two-handed weaponry still won't ever be her first choice--even with her rapidly developing muscle tone, she's too small for any blow she strikes to be particularly effective. Her speed is her strong point, and there's just no getting around the fact that a battleaxe has a long, slow swing.

Especially not when, with her magic the raw and deadly force being what it is, a two-handed weapon leaves her unable to cast.

The magic, Vilkas grudgingly admits, he's getting used to. His own body's healing abilities are strong enough that he doesn't come home from missions bearing more than a few scratches here or there, but when Ria comes home bruised and bloodied after she gets ambushed by a pack of wolves on the road (how ironic), Miri is able to immediately tend to her, spelling the worst of her injuries away. Even the battle-magic, as he told her, he trusts her with--once he's satisfied that he's trained her to the point where all she needs is time and a bit of solo practice, he sends her to Athis, so her force and accuracy with a flame can be matched by the rapid strikes of her shortsword.

He and Farkas come home from a rush assignment from Balgruuf, a group of thugs that's returned to cause trouble in the marketplace--one hearty morning brawl sorts them out, and after returning the goods they'd threatened out of the shopkeepers, the two of them walk together back up the steps to Jorrvaskr, and with a quick nod to each other, they head around the back to see if there are any leftovers from breakfast.

They do find a few extra pies, but they also find Athis and Miri sparring, steel on steel ringing into the mid-morning sun. Before he realizes it, Vilkas has stopped eating to simply watch them, a faint smile of pride tugging the corner of his mouth up as Miri forces a rare yield out of the dark elf.

"You love her."

Farkas's voice startles him. Vilkas turns, ready to bark at him, but there isn't an ounce of judgment or smugness in his voice. Farkas is simply telling what he sees to be the truth.

Or at least, thinks he is. "I'm not in love with her," Vilkas says quickly. "Looking out for a student. That's all."

Farkas fixes him with a long, meaningful look. When Vilkas turns away, he sighs, the chair groaning as Farkas tips himself backwards. "Then you're a liar, or a fool," he murmurs. "And I've never known you to lie to me, brother."

"I don't," Vilkas says shortly. "And I do care for her, yes. As a /friend/."

"You look to her all the time," Farkas adds. When Vilkas bristles, he hums, shakes his head. "No, don't lose your temper. Just think about it."

"There's nothing to think about," Vilkas says firmly, more quietly as he looks up to where Miri is still cackling with glee, Athis holding his sides laughing at her childish victory dance. "I trust her. I don't love her."

"Okay," Farkas says. It should be an admission of defeat, but in his tone it sounds like something else. Vilkas huffs. Damn his brother, seeing things that aren't there.

Re: FILL: Vilkas/F!DB: "Lovers' Knot" 11/?

[(Anonymous)]

After breakfast, Skjor calls the inner circle of the Companions together for a meeting.

"Kodlak and I have spoken on this at length," he says, "but we'd like your opinions before we make our decision final."

The room stays silent, but Vilkas can sense the increase of interest in the room, the weight of impending decisions upon them. "Now, don't look so grim," Kodlak says fondly. "We're holding afternoon discussion as a courtesy, but I think you'll agree with us."

Kodlak steeples his fingers. "We've decided," he says, "that we'd like to bring Miri in as a full member of the Companions."

"Not of the inner circle, mind you," Skjor says. "Although that could be discussed, in time. But we've felt that she's shown the dedication to training, the maturity, and made significant enough improvements in all aspects of her fighting that we feel it's time to give her a test of induction."

"Agree," Aela says immediately. "She's got a sharp eye and a good head on her shoulders."

"Agree," Farkas echoes. "She's a hard worker. I like her."

Vilkas opens his mouth to have his say, and then stutters, flushes. Damned Farkas--he's made him unsure of his own words over nothing. "Agree," he says at last. "I think," he adds slowly as he collects his thoughts, "that we've all seen her improve. But she's also kept an eye towards the Companions' needs while she's been here, even when the Jarl has been putting her to work or when she's been fitting extra training in. She finishes every task we give her."

"Then we are all in agreement," Kodlak intones. "Should she pass her induction--Miri will be the newest pup to join our ranks."

"May I ask what the task is?"

Vilkas surprised himself by asking the question, and it seems that he surprised Kodlak too. The man's snow-white eyebrows climb his face momentarily before his expression smoothes into a warm smile. "I'm pleased that you've taken an interest, Vilkas," he says. "We've decided that she'll be venturing into Dustman's Cairn."

"A fragment of Wuuthrad," Farkas breathes. "You really think it'll be in there?"

"Along with a death wish," Aela growls. "Kodlak--"

"--Has made an appropriate choice, to suit her level of skill," Skjor cuts in. "You know as well as I that there will be plenty she faces that will challenge her more than this."

"I don't like it," Vilkas agrees. "She's a terrific archer, which does her next to no good in an enclosed cavern, and her magic is strong, but as far as we know it's raw, untrained. She's gotten better with weaponry, but there's a difference between sparring and relying on it to save her life."

"We've had enough recruit death," Aela adds. "You and Kodlak may think she's ready, but I would prefer to be sure."

"It's a test, not a walk in the park," Skjor says. "And I'm surprised. You two have trained her. I would think you'd have given her more credit--"

"Perhaps," Kodlak cuts in with a smile, "there is something to consider in what the young ones say, Skjor. She must be challenged, certainly." He pauses, face going grave. "However...we must consider that, should the legends be true--she is the only one capable of swallowing a dragon's soul...and thus, she is incremental in the effort in finding the reason behind the dragons' return. We cannot afford to bargain with such a valuable life."

"And," Farkas adds, gentle and solemn, "I agree with Aela. We've seen enough death in the young ranks. Her skills will continue to grow, should she pass."

"Hrm." Skjor puts a hand to his jaw, scratching absently as he frowns. "I can't say I support lowering the bar of the test. However..." He looks up. "Perhaps we could send her in with a partner. Someone to mostly stand by and watch her back, in case what lies within the Cairn is more than we anticipated, and could see her safe return should she fail on this attempt."

"I'll go," Farkas offers. The group turns to him, and he shrugs. "Been itching to get out, anyway. And I haven't gotten the chance to work with her much yet; a little armor work, but that's all. I'd like to see what she can do."

"I'd support it," Aela shrugs. "We go out on partnered or triad missions all the time, day-to-day. No reason we couldn't run testing with a mentor."

Re: FILL: Vilkas/F!DB: "Lovers' Knot" 12/?

[(Anonymous)]

Ack, was posting from mobile and fucked up the formatting. Sorry about that, guys.

"I think Farkas is well-suited to the task," Kodlak says, smiling. "You have my support as well. Vilkas? What say you?"

Rationally, Vilkas is certainly in favor. He trusts Farkas to watch his own back; surely he would extend the same trust to him watching a pup.

And yet. There's a part of him itching to go himself. He's a bit quicker to react than Farkas; should something go wrong--

No, he thinks, and shakes himself. To question their efficacy as a team, not to mention the positive votes of his shield-brothers and sisters, would be doing both of them a disservice. "Agree," he says firmly. Miri is more than capable of dealing with a couple of old, rattling bones, and with Farkas she'll be in good hands.

"Then it's decided," Skjor agrees. "She will be tested, Farkas her watchful eye. Should she return successful from this quest, she will be named a full member of the Companions, and granted all of the privileges that come with."

"Vilkas," Kodlak says, as they begin to file out. The old wolf has a twinkle in his eye; the kind that, somehow, never bodes well for him. "Please call everyone in for lunch, and let Miri know that Skjor will be looking for her immediately after." He cocks his head, smiling. "As she has done the most training with you, if anyone--I think she would appreciate if you were the first to bring the news."

There's a snigger and a cough behind him. When he looks over his shoulder, Aela and Farkas are both standing there, looking innocent as lambs.

"Yes, Kodlak," Vilkas says, and tries not to grind his teeth too audibly. Gossip-mongers, the lot of them.

Re: FILL: Vilkas/F!DB: "Lovers' Knot" 13/?

[(Anonymous)]

Vilkas finds Miri tucked down in the back or Jorrvaskr, in the pups' den. She's sitting cross-legged, spine straight against the stone wall as she turns the pages of a much-loved tome--looks like one of Aela's, perhaps, a glossy bow stitched into the front cover in golden thread.

She looks so relaxed, so at ease, that it actually takes Vilkas off-guard for a moment. He hadn't really stopped to think about it, but the amount of pressure she's been under, the workload she's been holding herself to, is crystal-clear looking at her now, like this.

He sort of feels like an ass, standing there, waiting to drag her out of her peace, have his brother throw her into some dusty cavern to--do what? Test her? In an environment she won't be put in, to face down high-flying, enormous dragons? She's gotten so much better, and she knows as well as anyone that she's running on borrowed time.

She looks up suddenly, seemingly sensing his presence, and is startled into motion, setting her book aside in a flurry of motion, almost guiltily. "Vilkas?" she says. "Sorry, I was caught up in--were you looking for me?"

"I," he begins, "No. I mean--yes, I was," he says, stumbling over his tongue at her confused look. "It isn't urgent. Skjor is looking for you, when you get a chance. But it can wait."

"Ah," she says, still sounding a little wary. "That's it?"

"That's it," Vilkas agrees, more confidently. Then he looks at her again, and spur of the moment, he reconsiders. "Although--"

"Yes?" she asks. "What is it?"

Well. In for a septim, he supposes. "Maybe I could bring you down a plate, from lunch," he offers. When she blinks in surprise, he clarifies, "You look--comfortable. And I know I hate to put down a book in the middle."

She stares at him for another long moment, and then breaks into a small, quiet smile. "So do I," she admits. "That would be lovely, thank you."

He gives a brusque nod, and as he's halfway out the door she calls, "Vilkas?"

He stops, turning. "Maybe you could bring a plate, and a book of your own?" she asks. With a little lopsided smile, she adds, "I'd enjoy the company, but I promise not to try to make conversation."

He laughs softly, warmed at the offer. "That's as well; I'm not doing much quality conversation myself today," he agrees. "I will, then."

"Good!" she says brightly, and, all pretense of social graces abandoned, buries herself right back into her book.

He smiles to himself, and walks down the hall and upstairs to the mead hall.

FILL: Vilkas/F!DB: "Lovers' Knot" 14/?

[(Anonymous)]

Vilkas gets about as much ribbing as he expected from the group. He can hear Ria's whispered "wait, is there something going on?" just before he closes the door to the basement behind him, confirming his suspicions that the Companions are all a little bunch of gossipy old hens, but Skjor gives him an approving nod and Kodlak agrees that some personal time would suit both of them well, so he feels good about the choice as he walks back towards where Miri is sitting, still engrossed.

He thrusts the plate at her, holding it out expectantly until she looks up and grins. "Thanks," she says, shifts the book to her left hand so she can eat with the other, appearing completely contented as Vilkas settles opposite her, book and plate of his own in hand.

It's a very pleasant afternoon, and, Vilkas can readily admit, sorely needed for both of them. He's glad to have had the time when Miri stretches, shutting the book and setting it aside. "Take your plate?" she offers, and he shakes his head, reaching for hers instead. "You have better things to do," he says. "Go on. Skjor's waiting."

It comes out sounding like censure, but it seems she's learned to read him; she chuckles a little and picks up her pack. "Always something with you guys," she says, hefts it up and onto her back with a grunt of effort. "Got any ideas?"

"Skjor will tell you, you don't need to hear it from me," he says. She rolls her eyes and turns to go, and a little seed of doubt creeps in.

Gods dammit.

"Miri," he calls, and she turns. "...May the gods watch over your back."

"They have so far," she replies, and smiles. "And don't look so grim! Whatever it is, I'll be back soon enough."

"Aye." He gives her a nod, and she's up and out the door. He listens to her jog up the steps, and shuts his eyes for a minute, taking a deep breath.

She and Farkas will be a formidable team. They'll be fine. Everyone will come home safe, and alive, and in one piece.

He nods to himself, and tries to shake the creeping feeling of dread slowly making its way up his spine.

FILL: Vilkas/F!DB: "Lovers' Knot" 15/?

[(Anonymous)]

Vilkas spends an anxious night wearing a hole into the floor of Jorrvaskr, pacing back and forth. He hadn't anticipated how much being without Farkas would affect him, and for whatever reason Miri crosses his mind just as much. It's her trial, he reasons, she's new--but logically both of them should be fine. He's simply worried, for worry's sake.

It's Tilma who finds him, in the end. He hears her key slide in the lock of his bedroom door, and it startles his wolf just enough to make him growl on instinct. She laughs--she never has been afraid of them, of any of them, as frail as she seems on the outside. "Oh, stop it, you," she chides, waving a hand at him. "I need to sweep up in here. If you're that worried about them, go watch for them at the gate."

It's good advice--he may even be able to smell them on the wind, he realizes--and he mutters a quick word of thanks as he bounds up the stairs and out the door.

The wind is unfavorable for catching scents, but he sees them coming a long ways off. They're both there, walking of their own volition--picking their way up the hill, a slow but steady path.

Vilkas breathes a sigh of relief, and with a quick nod to the slightly rattled guard who vacated his tower on short notice, jogs back down the stairs and up to Jorrvaskr before they can catch him watching for them.

"They've returned?" Kodlak asks, with a twinkle in his eye. The sharp old bastard. Vilkas nods stiffly, a little embarrassed, but Kodlak smiles approvingly at him, putting a warm hand on his shoulder. "I'll gather us on the back patio," he says. "Do bring them along, won't you?"

"Aye, Kodlak," he agrees, and steps outside.

As the two approach Jorrvaskr, Vilkas can suddenly tell that they're both a little worse for wear. Miri's favoring her left side a bit, and Farkas has a nasty gash down his right shoulder, which surprises Vilkas--normally they both heal quickly enough that any injuries sustained are gone by the time they arrive back. It's part of the reason their status outside the Circle is so highly regarded--they're thought of as "perfect" fighters, because they so rarely come home injured, when the truth isn't quite that simple.

"Glad to see you've both returned safely," he says, saving his questions for later. "Did you retrieve the fragment?"

"Aye," Farkas says grimly, as Miri produces it, handing it over without a word. "And company."

"Draugr?" Vilkas asks.

Miri shakes her head, and Farkas levels him with his best 'I'll fill you in later' look. Worse than draugr?

"We can discuss the details later," Vilkas says. He smiles warmly at Miri, who smiles back, though she doesn't meet his eye. "The important thing is that you're both home in one piece, and successful at that. Brother, are you prepared to vouch for her?"

"I am," Farkas agrees. That much, at least, he seems fairly confident about, and Miri gives him a nervous grin. So whatever went wrong wasn't between the two of them, at least.

"Then, Miri," he says. "It would be my pleasure to inform you that we are ready to induct you as a full member of the Companions."

He thinks she'll be pleased by the news, but she looks back at Farkas, unsure. "Does that mean I have to--?"

"No," he says, firm and gentle. "It's just a small reward for your hard work. You've earned a place among us, and that can mean--whatever you want."

Seemingly relieved, she walks around to the back of Jorrvaskr. Vilkas walks with his brother at a more sedate pace, letting him rest--and getting some separation so the two of them can talk, albeit briefly. "What in Shor's name did you run into out there?" Vilkas asks.

"A trap," Farkas snarls. It's a strong emotion from his mild-mannered brother--things must really have gone terribly if he's this upset. "They jammed one of the door lifters--"

"Who jammed it?"

"The Silver Hand," Farkas says. "They had Miri trapped, and would've had me too, if I'd let them."

Which means the gash on his shoulder--"Gods damn them," Vilkas yells, and Farkas hurriedly hushes him. "Not so loud," he says. "I'll tell Kodlak immediately after the ceremony, but we don't want to ruin her moment."

FILL: Vilkas/F!DB: "Lovers' Knot" 16/?

[(Anonymous)]

"Right after," Vilkas growls. Farkas gives him a short, sharp nod, and then they both walk out to perform the ceremony.

"Brothers and sisters of the Circle," Skjor intones, and Vilkas watches as Farkas vouches for Miri. Though she still looks unsure, as Skjor notes her list of accomplishments, she smiles proudly, and it grows wider as the traditional words are spoken. So she's shaken, but not deterred.

Good, Vilkas thinks, relieved, as he joins in the echo of 'It shall be so,' completing the ceremony. Good.

Aela bounds over to congratulate her, Miri holding up a firm hand and gesturing to her ribs as she gives Aela a lopsided grin, apparently fending off one of the huntress's bone-crushing hugs. As Farkas pulls Kodlak aside, Skjor follows, and though Vilkas refrains from eavesdropping, the two appear stone-faced as they take in Farkas's story.

At loose ends, Miri's full attention taken by Aela and the others deep in conversation, Vilkas decides to go inside and inform the pups that they officially have a new shield-sister. Farkas will likely recount exactly what happened when he finishes with Kodlak and Skjor, and his congratulations for Miri can wait until Tilma's banquet tonight.

...

With Miri having come home successful, the banquet hall is draped in celebratory banners, and everyone takes the opportunity to get out of their plate and mail and into some casual clothing.

It's always strange to see any of them out of their armor--the sight of Skjor in a tunic and leggings is enough to throw anyone off--but today the biggest surprise belongs to Ria and Miri, who walk out of the hall and take their seats next to each other in long, informal dresses.

Ria looks beautiful and composed as always, confident and comfortable in her deep Imperial red, but he's seen her dressed up before, sometimes even for missions. It's Miri who knocks him off his feet. Her hair falls in loose, tumbling waves, and her dress is a rich blue that does wonders for her--and clings in all of the right places, Vilkas is embarrassed to note. By the gods.

A loud chorus of cheers and whooping starts up, and Vilkas joins them, hoping the smile he gives is warm enough. In all honestly, he's still trying to scoop his jaw up off the floor, but he gives it his best effort.

"No one told me we were expecting ladies of the Court," Torvar jokes, grinning widely. "If I'd known, I'da dressed nicer."

"Shut up, Torvar," Ria says cheerfully. "I'm just glad I could finally talk someone into dressing up with me." She grins at Miri. "She looks beautiful too, doesn't she?"

"Hey," Aela says. "You never asked me, I'd have worn something with you."

"I've seen you wear dresses," Ria retorts easily, as she begins to make herself a plate. "You scowl and look like you're a second away from ripping it off and fighting it."

"True," Aela concedes. "And we all know what Njada would say."

"Not for a million septims," Aela, Ria, and Njada all echo, and grin at each other. "I hate the stuff," Njada says. "Won't touch it with a ten-foot staff."

"So as you can tell, it's just you and me," Ria says, linking her arm through with Miri's, who laughs. "And I appreciate the company."

"It's a little odd," Miri admits, "but a good odd, I think. It feels like something I used to know how to do...but," she sighs, "I guess whoever I was before doesn't really matter, does it?"

"We like who you are now," Vilkas interrupts. When she turns to him, surprised, he shrugs. "Maybe you're different from how you were before. But you're already different from the person you were when you first came to Whiterun."

"That's true," Aela agrees. "You've met new people, seen new places. Gotten stronger."

"And we know one thing about you," Athis says. "Your past aside, you were always born to be the Dragonborn." He grins. "I know getting concussed never made meable to swallow a dragon soul."

"In my experience," Kodlak adds, "Destiny has a way of working out. You have a home with us, and no shortage of those who consider you family, including the ones sitting at this table with you."

"I--thank you," she says, voice cracking on the last syllable. Ria puts an arm around her, and Miri leans sideways into the hug, smiling faintly. "It means a lot to me that you all do."

FILL: Vilkas/F!DB: "Lovers' Knot" 17/?

[(Anonymous)]

The conversation moves to lighter topics, and Vilkas relaxes and lets himself soak it all in. Kodlak spoke true--the friendships here run deep, a foundation of trust borne from strength and honor. Their loyalty here is hard-won, but never wavers or falters thereafter.

As hard as it's been to wrestle with his unruly wolf-spirit over the years, the wolf in him has one thing right--the value of a tightly-knit pack.

...

Once all the shouting's over, life in Jorrvaskr resumes as normal. Interestingly, with Miri becoming a full member, she actually ends up taking on fewer missions, particularly the local ones--now that she doesn't need to earn her way in, she gets assigned to the mission schedule with the rest of them, rotating in when something needs to be done.

Instead, she does more outreach with the people of Whiterun, from what Vilkas can tell. Once, he sees her talking to Danica at the temple, and then when he hears the noise in the courtyard and goes out to investigate, the Gildergreen has been revived, in its full, flowering beauty once again. "It was nothing," she says, when Vilkas asks her about it, but now and then he'll catch her smiling up at the tree, proud and satisfied.

With Miri doing so much of the outside solo work, the requests from townsfolk slowly start to dwindle. The members of the Circle are still doing Silver Hand scouting, Vilkas included, but without being a full member, Miri and the other pups end up having four full days without taking on a single mission.

When they gather for dinner that night, Miri clears her throat. "Everyone," she says, and they turn to watch her as she speaks.

"Well," she says, "I think most of you heard the Greybeards' summons of me. And while things have been slow here, I got permission from Kodlak--"

"Not that you needed it," Kodlak reminds her. The rest of them exchange glances and fond eyerolls--while the position of Harbinger is one without formal powers, no one would lift a pinky without talking to Kodlak first.

"I got permission from Kodlak that I didn't need," she continues with a grin, "and I'll be taking some time off from my duties as a Companion to travel to High Hrothgar."

FILL: Vilkas/F!DB: "Lovers' Knot" 18/?

[(Anonymous)]

Torvar whistles. "The 7000 steps," he says. "Better you than me, kid."

"And it'll be so cold! You poor thing," Ria says, and shivers in sympathy. "All the mail in the world can't keep that biting wind out."

"I'm hoping it'll be...invigorating?" Miri says with a wince but obvious good humor, and a ripple of laughter goes around the table.

"I'd tell you good luck, but I don't think you'll need it," Farkas says. "I'm pretty confident that you'll be able to face anything the mountain can throw at you."

"Let's hope so," she laughs.

"Oh, c'mon." Athis grins. "It's Miri. We all know she'll be lugging home the head of a frost troll yelling "Can I sell this to someone?"

"No, no," Skjor says. "Troll heads are completely worthless, as a Mage she knows that much. Troll fat, on the other hand..." He lifts a finger, grinning. "Now that is a pricey alchemical ingredient."

"The only people who go out looking for frost trolls are alchemists," Njada agrees. "Or mercenaries who're being paid by alchemists."

"And then there's me," Miri says, rolling her eyes. "On an epic quest to go find out more about what's been turning piles of dragon bones into real, actual, living dragons--and, oh hey, while you're climbing this frozen mountain, stuff might attack you, like frost trolls."

"And if you live through that," Aela says, "you'll be a Thane who's wealthy, well-studied, strong, and has seen the world."

"And beautiful to boot!" Ria adds. "The crown jewel of any Court."

"Hear hear," Vilkas says, raising his mug. As the rest of the group choruses "Hear hear!", Miri blinks at him in obvious surprise. Vilkas holds her gaze, steady, until her expression slowly smooths into a soft, warm smile.

...

Vilkas is assuming that's the rest of the human interaction he'll have for the night--he usually spends the rest in his own quarters meditating or out in his wolf form, giving himself a chance to run and blow off some steam--so the knock at his door as he's preparing to go out surprises him.

"Vilkas," Miri calls through the door. "Are you--you aren't asleep, right?"

Well. He pulled his shirt off, but his pants are still intact. He pulls open the door and she blinks at him for a minute before clearly trying to recollect her thoughts. "Um," she says. "...Hi."

"Hi," he says. She must be tired. "Need something?"

"Well, yes, actually," she hedges, shifting from foot to foot. "I." She looks around furtively, and then asks, "Um, not to invite myself in, but can I...?"

"Oh," he says, and steps out of her way. "Of course, come in."

She perches on a chair overlooking the bed. She's...nervous, he can scent that. What about escapes him, but he's sure she'll get to it, so he takes a seat opposite her on the edge of his bed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," she says quickly. "I just..." She trails off, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, and then appears to steady herself. "Okay," she says. "I'm...I'm going to ask you something, and I don't want you to say yes right away. Or, because, I'm the Dragonborn."

Vilkas peers at her. "You...want me to say no?"

"No," she says. "Or--well." She huffs, frustrated, and then blurts, "Kodlak said it would be okay if I took a member of the Companions with me up to High Hrothgar and I was hoping you would come with me."

Vilkas blinks slowly once. Twice. "Okay," he says.

"Because," she continues, "Our fighting styles are really complementary, and I know it'll be cold but you can, uh, do the werewolf thing, Farkas says you really don't get cold, and I thought it might be nice to have a little bit more protection and some company and--"

"Miri," he laughs. "I said okay."

"But why," she says. "I told you not to say yes! It's going to be awful."

"...Yes," Vilkas agrees slowly. "But if I can do a little bit to lift the burden from your shoulders, then I've done my job as a Companion," he finishes. When she looks unsure, he hastens to add, "And as your friend."

"You're sure," she says dubiously.

He arches an eyebrow. "Don't feel obligated to ask me," he says.

FILL: Vilkas/F!DB: "Lovers' Knot" 19/?

[(Anonymous)]

"No! No," she says. "I..." She sighs, all of the tension draining out of her. "I really wanted you to come with me," she admits. "But I couldn't think of a reason for you to say yes. Your brother's here, and your friends. It's a...stupid, wild..."

Ah. "It's an adventure," Vilkas says, reaching out and squeezing her hand. "I'm honored to have been the one you asked."

Miri chuckles a little as he releases her hand, folds her own in her lap. "You know," she says, "when we first met, I thought you were...rude isn't quite the right word, too strong," she says, twining her fingers together. "Curt, maybe."

He isn't sure where she's going with this, but she looks up at him and smiles. "But these days it seems like you always know just what to say to make me feel better."

"Good," he says, cheeks heating. "I'm sorry if I--"

"No, no," she laughs, waving a hand. "We're both different people since then, you and I. Like you said at dinner tonight," she says. "It's really true, I think. ...So!"

She brushes off her lap and briskly stands, heading for the door. He stands with her, as it seems like the right thing to do, and she leans against the wooden frame, looking up at him. "Thank you," she says, sincere and quietly pleased. "I'll feel much better having you come along."

"I'll feel better coming," he admits. "I'm glad to help. And...I do worry. I know you could handle things by yourself, it isn't that--"

"I understand," she says. "I know I never like being the one left behind."

In a sudden, sharp moment of clarity, Vilkas realizes what they're doing, dancing around each other like this. They're having a moment here, standing in his doorway, her in her light night shift and trousers and him half-naked. His wolf is as quiet as it ever is with her around--which is to say, not much--but he's able to recognize the instinct to lean down and kiss her as one that's all his own, not something driven or pushed by his feral half.

"Um," she says, chewing on her bottom lip. "So. I think I'm gonna go to bed. Rest up, you know." She laughs shallowly, pats her bicep. "For the big day."

"Uh-huh," he hears himself say, and it's like he's suddenly half a world away, the echo of his own words coming back thin and faint.

Say something, Vilkas, you idiot, he thinks.

"Let me know if you need any help packing," he says. "I can carry whatever we need."

Gods damn it, that was not it. But she's already stutter-stepped out of arm's reach, giving him a little wave. "I will," she says. "Good night; I'll see you bright and early!"

"...Good night, Miri," he says, after she's already halfway down the hall, and shuts it behind himself. Then he sighs, letting his head thunk backwards against the thick oak.

.........Shit.

...

Vilkas spends a long night trying to meditate and rest without success--he can't really afford to wear his wolf out when he may need to call on some reserves of strength depending on how fast they travel, so between trying to ignore both the urge to shred everything in his path and the stubborn thought that what happened with Miri at the door wasn't just a fluke, he doesn't catch much restful time. An hour or so before sunrise, he growls and gives up, sitting up and shoving some basic gear and potions into his pack and changing into his armor.

Once he's fully armored, he sits at his table, penning a letter for his brother.

Farkas, he writes,

Miri asked me to accompany her to High Hrothgar. We'll be leaving shortly. I expect that we'll mostly be keeping to the well-defined paths, so catch me by courier if you need. Best of luck with S.H. I know you'll be cautious.

He pauses, trying to think. He'll be insufferable if Vilkas tells him about what transpired yesterday evening...but he'll be worse if he hears it elsewhere first, and Aela has sharp ears. Rolling his eyes, he adds:

Also, you may have been right.

There, he decides. Vague enough, should it fall into the wrong hands. He rolls the parchment up and goes to slide it under Farkas's door.

He hears quiet footfalls down the hall, and he turns to see Miri, appearing to be dressed and packed. "Oh, good," she says in a hushed whisper. "Are you nearly ready? I need to gather a few things from the kitchens, and then I will be."

FILL: Vilkas/F!DB: "Lovers' Knot" 20/?

[(Anonymous)]

"I am, and I need to as well," he agrees. "Do you already have a rough idea of how much we'll need?"

"Just enough for the trip there, I expect," she says, as Vilkas grabs his pack and they jog upstairs. "From what I understand, there's a small village at the foot of the mountain that's usually happy to feed visitors in exchange for a bit of coin. No sense taking more than we can carry."

Vilkas nods. "Are we heading south or east?"

"I hadn't decided," she says. "Do you have an opinion?"

He shrugs. "East is shorter," he says, "but I think we should go south first. It's a bit less direct, but it'll be safer. Do you have a map?" he asks, and she nods, tugs a well-worn piece of parchment out of her bag and spreads it across the table.

"Here," Vilkas says, and taps her handwritten note on the map: Whiterun. He trails his finger down. "We can cross through Riverwood first, and then depending on how it looks, either go around Helgen or cut through it. The guards said there were rumors that a dragon attacked there, so I guess the place is pretty much abandoned."

He looks up to see a strange expression cross Miri's face. "Is...that okay?" he asks.

"Fine," she says shortly. "That's fine, it makes sense. Go on."

She seems unhappy still, but she doesn't seem inclined to share, so Vilkas gives her one last long look and then moves on. "Then we follow the main roads east and work our way closer up to the mountain." He taps a spot on the map at the base of the mountain. "Ivarstead is around here, roughly. That's the village you were talking about. That's generally where the Greybeards get their supplies from, from what I'm told."

"That makes sense," she says, nodding. "I think by the time we get there it'll be fairly late...and I don't relish the thought of trying to pick our way up the mountain in the dark. So I think we should plan to stay the night in the town, and then make our way up at sunrise."

Vilkas gives a half-shrug and nod. He could probably do it if he were shifted, but she doesn't have the luxury of the energy reserves nor the decent night vision. "Okay," he says. "Are we ready?"

"I'm as ready as I'm going to be," she says, smiling as she rolls up the map and tucks it back in her pack. "How about you?"

"I'm ready," he says. Now that they have a plan, he finds himself looking forward to the journey. No Silver Hand, no missions of his own...just the wide-open sky and a clear path ahead. "Let's get going."

FILL: Vilkas/F!DB: "Lovers' Knot" 21/?

[(Anonymous)]

The first part of their trip goes smoothly. They're in Riverwood by mid-morning, and Miri's spirits seem to get brighter the closer she gets to the small town.

A dark-haired woman is sprinkling feed out of an apron pocket, scattering it across the ground as chickens peck around her. Miri sucks in a loud, excited breath, and then to Vilkas's surprise, darts off of the path and over towards her. "Camilla!" she shouts, and the woman looks up before breaking into a big smile. "Miri!" she calls, and the two embrace warmly as Vilkas catches up at a more sedately pace. "Oh my goodness, look at you," she says, stroking hands down Miri's hair before cupping her cheeks. "A real lady knight! You look so--" She breaks off, shaking her head and laughing. "So brave and strong!" she finishes.

"And you look beautiful!" she says, grinning. "I was so excited to see you as soon as I knew we would be passing through."

"We heard the Greybeards shout for you!" Camilla says, smiling. "Sven was hoping you'd be coming back through town to cross over, but Faendal was positive you'd be taking the shorter route to the east. I wish we'd known you were coming, we would've held breakfast for you!"

"Oh, no," Miri says, and looks back at Vilkas with a little smile. "We ate a bit on our way.....and, I'm so sorry, I've completely forgotten to introduce you two!" she says. "Vilkas, this is Camilla. She helped me a lot when I was--in a bad way," she finishes. "Camilla, Vilkas. He's one of the members of the Companions. I've been staying in Whiterun and training with them."

"The Companions!" Camilla says, giving Vilkas a little smile and nod. "No wonder you look so fit, Miri!" She gives him a quizzical look. "So, Vilkas, you're accompanying Miri up the mountain? Or are you on a separate errand?"

"No, I'm traveling with her," he says, and he and Miri exchange a quick smile of their own.

"Well," Camilla says, and claps her hands. "That's wonderful. Are you able to stay for a bit? I would love to do some catching up with you, and I'm sure the boys would love to see you too."

"I wish I could, but we really weren't planning to stay," Miri says apologetically. "We're already taking the long way around, so we're trying to cut through as quickly as possible."

"Of course, of course. No, don't apologize, I hate when you make that face!" Camilla laughs, and kisses Miri on the cheek. "We know you're a busy woman. But we certainly owe you a nice dinner and a warm hearth, so please feel free to stay if it makes sense when you're coming back! We would love to see you."

"We will!" Miri agrees, and gives her a big hug. "And you'll need to catch me up on the village goings-on!"

"Oh, my goodness," Camilla laughs. "I didn't even write and tell you that Sven and Faendal and I all worked everything out, did I?"

"You haven't," Miri agrees with a grin, "but we'll probably be passing back through within the next few days. So you can tell me then, or I'll write to you from Whiterun if we don't catch you."

"Great." Camilla holds her shoulders steady and gives her one last evaluative glance, and smiles, lets her go. "Good luck, sweetheart; I'll tell everyone you stopped in to say hello," she says. Turning to Vilkas, she adds, "I'm sorry we kept you waiting! I'm sure you're as eager to get on the road as she is. Best of luck to you as well, it was lovely to meet you!"

"Any friend of Miri's is a friend of mine," Vilkas says. Miri looks up at him and gives him an absolutely dazzling grin, and he can feel his cheeks heat. He coughs and nods shortly, and with a questioning look at Miri, starts to walk back down the hill. With a last wave to Camilla, she catches up quickly, falling back into step with him.

"Camilla Valerius," she says, by way of explanation. "She and her brother run the local inn and general store. When I first came through, I had...hi, Uncle Alvor!" she breaks off to say, giving a man who appears to be a blacksmith a quick wave.

"Miri, is that you?" he booms, waving back at her. "Looking strong! Stay safe!"

"I will!" She calls, though she doesn't pause. "Say hello to the family for me!"

FILL: Vilkas/F!DB: "Lovers' Knot" 22/?

[(Anonymous)]

He gives her a nod and goes back to hammering out what appears to be a piece of steel. "Sorry," she laughs. "That's Alvor, he and his wife and daughter run the local forge. He taught me how to make my first weapons and armor...and bought them off of me so I had some money to spend on food," she says, as they pass through the town's front gate. "And...where was I?"

"Camilla," Vilkas reminds her gently, with a friendly nod to the guards as they pass.

"Camilla! Right. Anyway, she didn't really trust me at first, but I ran an errand for her and her brother and they both warmed up pretty fast. And then I helped her resolve a little...well, love triangle, really," she says, laughing. "She had the local bard and a Bosmer archer both fawning all over her. I mean, she's who she is, you know? She has that kind of beauty that attracts a lot of attention."

"Does she?" Vilkas frowns. "I didn't think she was all that remarkable."

Miri gapes at him. "Are you kidding me? Camilla's gorgeous. Long brown hair, that Imperial nose..."

He thinks about it again. "I suppose," he shrugs.

"Wow." She seems to be genuinely at a loss for words as they continue down the path. After a while, she says, "So...she just isn't your type? Or..."

"Apparently not," he says. Camilla was pretty enough--maybe in his younger years a girl he and Farkas would've fought over, he'll allow--but there was something about her that just isn't holding his interest.

Maybe, he allows, partially due to the girl at his side who's distracted him so thoroughly. But he can't very well say that, can he?

"Huh," she says.

They walk in silence for another stretch, and then Miri pipes up again. "So..." she begins. "What kind of girls do you like?"

He looks over at her, raising an eyebrow, silently asking Are we really going to talk about this?

"Okay, okay!" she relents, laughing. "You don't have to tell me."

"I...don't know that I have a particular type," he says, after a moment to think. "I like smart women. Brave women. Someone who isn't afraid to take charge." He shrugs. "It's nice if she's pretty too, I'm not saying that. But, especially with being a werewolf..."

"Someone...who can stand up to you?" Miri asks. "If you need them to."

He gives a nod, relieved that she understands. "I don't lose control as much as I used to, when I was younger. New to it. Now it's only a great once in a while. But I want..." He chuckles. "Well, a girl who won't run away if I trust her enough to share my secret, first off."

Miri laughs. "You should've seen me when Farkas 'surprised' me," she says. "Could have knocked me over with a feather. I was a little afraid at first, I'll admit it."

"But you didn't bolt," Vilkas points out.

"It wasn't the sort of situation I could bolt from. Enemies I don't know hiding all around us. Halfway into the cave as much as out. To run in either direction would've been a death wish." Miri laughs, kicking a loose stone out of her path. "But I don't think I was ever really frightened, either. It wasn't like...watching a wild animal attack, or something. He came over and got me out, made sure I was alright. His eyes were human, the whole time."

"You weren't upset?" he asks. "I feel like most people would have a bigger reaction."

"Oh, I did, later," she agrees. "I was furious. I think I felt betrayed, more than anything else. That I wouldn't be trustworthy enough to share it with me earlier. That it doesn't get shared with anyone before they know what they're signing up for."

"We do have our reasons," Vilkas says, a little stiffly. "If--"

"No, no, I know," she says. "If the townsfolk got wind of it you'd have a riot on your hands. The guards are already spooked enough at the occasional howling as it is."

Vilkas laughs, mimicking the stronger Nord accent. "Hail, Companion. Sometimes, at night, I hear...howling!"

Miri grins. "Just like that!" she agrees. "It was...a long walk back. Part of me wanted to shove the fragment at Farkas and forget I'd ever wasted my time. I thought being a werewolf was a requirement to be a member. But then I asked Farkas, and he told me it wasn't. It really was just a basic induction."

FILL: Vilkas/F!DB: "Lovers' Knot" 23/?

[(Anonymous)]

Miri grins. "Just like that!" she agrees. "It was...a long walk back. Part of me wanted to shove the fragment at Farkas and forget I'd ever wasted my time. I thought being a werewolf was a requirement to be a member. But then I asked Farkas, and he told me it wasn't. It really was just a basic induction."

"In the first days of the guild, I think everyone might have been," Vilkas says. "I think that's why the Grey-Mane family was tied so closely with us. The strongest of their children would join, and take the blood oath. And I'm not confident, but doing some basic digging for Kodlak, I think that's how their clan really got its name. It sounds like it was more of an open secret, back then."

"I see." Miri adjusts her pack on her shoulders, shifting its weight. "What made the change?"

"Practicality, likely," Vilkas says. "I think it'd be hard for a Jarl to feel confident running a strong hold or support the Companions with the constant threat of werewolves. And there are lots of regular people who can be strong, but might not be strong enough to withstand the ritual."

Miri nods. "I've been thinking about it kind of a lot, actually," she admits. "What I would decide, if I were invited to join. If I would say yes or no."

"Well, I don't think it's a decision you have to worry about," Vilkas says. "These days, Kodlak is against any new pups doing the ritual."

"Really?" Miri blinks. "Why? Isn't he himself--"

"Yes, and that's part of the issue for him, I think," Vilkas says. "He's getting older, it isn't a secret. He's still strong but even as a werewolf, that strength won't last him forever. He's performed a lot of great deeds as a warrior, and I think his goals have changed from when he was our age."

She looks at Vilkas, waiting for him to continue, so he does. "Kodlak decided a few years ago that he didn't want to run with Hircine," he says. "That's the big secret, really; that when we perform the ritual we dedicate our afterlives to a daedric prince, to running with the eternal hunt. But Kodlak..."

"He doesn't want to do that?" Miri asks.

"No," Vilkas agrees. "He's tired, I think. He'd like to be welcomed into Shor's Hall with the other warriors, sit and listen to great battle stories. Drink ever-flowing mead. The simpler afterlife."

"Okay," Miri says. "So...can he. I don't know, give it back? Do you give a thing like that back?"

Vilkas shakes his head. "I've been trying to help him, where I can," he says. "Farkas isn't one for a lot of reading, he has a lot of trouble with it. And Aela and Skjor don't really understand how he feels. Skjor craves the power of his other form, and Aela's a born huntress. They don't know why anyone would want to give it up, afterlife or no."

"Help him do what?" Miri asks. "Figure out how to get rid of it?"

"Yes. But apparently it isn't so easy," Vilkas says. "Kodlak is pretty sure, after the initial research we've done, that 'being imbued with the wolf spirit' was actually intended to be a curse. And that's why it's been kept to the Companions for all these years, so the strongest have to prove that they're both physically and mentally strong enough to be able to maintain the form without hurting civilians."

"That makes sense." She frowns, thinking. "Then...why does the Silver Hand bother hunting you guys down? If there's that small a number of you, and you guys are protecting a hold..."

"It isn't like we're the only werewolves out there," Vilkas says. "Followers of Hircine who take on beast forms crop up all the time. Some go rogue, and that's where the Silver Hand comes in." He frowns. "But they don't see the difference between using controlled transformations to help people, and being out of control, dangerous. Liable to attack."

Miri's frown deepens. "That's not fair, for one," she says. "To paint everyone with a broad brush like that. After all you do for the community..."

"Well, you see it that way now," he says. "But you've worked with us; become friends with us. I think they feel much the same way as you did initially--that if we're truly helping the community, our power and rituals shouldn't be kept a secret."