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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.

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

Date: 2015-12-23 04:23 pm (UTC)
From: (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?"

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