TESSDE AU (+ Lucia :]) (Inigo part 5!!!)

Inigo: *explained things to Vilkas, Farkas, Skjor, and Aela while Ria and Kodlak entertain Lucia* ...it might be a minute or two before she returns.

Aela: *huffs* What an idiot. To insult the Dragonslayer's kin...

Vilkas: *watching Lucia like a hawk* Hmph.

Skjor: *shakes his head* Her business is her own, Vilkas.

Vilkas: *grunts at having been caught in his anger at not being told she had a kid, crossing his arms* Whatever.

Farkas: Thanks for letting us know. *pats Inigo on the shoulder* Kodlak should be all right for the time being.

Inigo: Of course. Are her efforts making a difference?

Farkas: *sighs through his nose* It's keeping it at bay... but that's the most she can do.

Aela: It's progressed too far to combat at this point, even with her powers. At most, it's giving him less aches and pains.

Inigo: *sighs, ears pulling back* I am sorry. I wish there was more to be done. And I am certain she feels the same.

Skjor: *shakes his head* What's done is done. Can't change that. How is she holding up outside Jorrvaskr?

Inigo: She is exhausted whenever she comes home. Lucia and I were going about getting her a gift when her Aunt arrived.

Vilkas: A gift, ey?

Inigo: Oh yes! Do any of you have any ideas? She does not need any more jewelry, and we often have delicious meals together. I cannot think of anything else she may want.

Farkas: Was workin' on somethin' hand carved for her.

Inigo: I feel that is more Kaidan's wheelhouse than my own, and I do not want Lucia to injure herself while making anything.

Skjor: *raises an eyebrow curiously* Hm. Responsible of you.

Inigo: Well-

Lucia: *giggles and runs over to Inigo, tugging on his pants with a beaming smile* Papa, papa! Ms. Ria and I drew a picture!

Trio + Skjor: "Papa"?!

Inigo: *gives them a dry look before kneeling down to her* Let me see! Oooh... is that us here?

Lucia: Mhm!

Inigo: You are very skilled in drawing! I particularly love how large Mr. Dragonfly is. He does too!

Lucia: Hehe! *hugs Inigo around his neck before hurrying back to Ria*

Inigo: *carefully folds up the drawing and pockets it* You may close your mouths- you would not want to catch any flies!

Vilkas: When did you two get married?!

Inigo: *sighs* We are not. We are sharing responsibility with Allora for taking care of Lucia. Lucia calls all of us- Taliesin, Kaidan, Lucien, and I- papa. We are still only courting Allora.

Skjor: *rubs his temples as he feels the other three stewing in anger* Never gonna hear the end of this...

TES Shiptober- Day 1-3: First Meeting

Hey, happy to be here for some prompts, courtesy of @hombrediablo​! For this first prompt, I have three (3!) posts for you all. Probably won’t do that for every one, but this is a nice intro to the 3 Last Dragonborns I play/write. Will there be prompts from other TES games? Maybe! I’d like to bring out my Hero of Kvatch and Nerevarine for this at some point, so fingers crossed! I’m also doing Fallout-tober, so we’ll see how things go. Anyway, onward to the first of my first meetings! This is Besharat and Farkas, my Redguard (and canon) LDB.  

Warnings- none

Length- around 500 words

(I don’t have a picture of their first meeting, but this is an early-game one that I really like from Ustengrav)

***

I was finally close enough to see what was happening; three humans fighting a giant. I raised my pilfered bow and fired an arrow, praying it would fly true. It did, and hit the creature in the back, stunning it enough for the three to finish it off as I ran to get closer.

“Good shot!” One of the women said as I came up beside them, tossing back her long, red hair. She wore diagonal lines of green paint across her face like slashes, though now split by her smile. 

“Yeah, well done!” The second woman, in fur-lined armor, slapped me on the back.

“I just got lucky. Not that I think you three needed help or anything…” I demurred.

“An extra arrow never hurts.” The red-haired woman nodded, as if to dispel any further argument. She pointed her chin in the direction of their third. ��And it gave Farkas time to put his sword through the thing and finish it off. You new to these parts?”

“Yeah, actually. I was heading to Whiterun.”

“Well, you’re in the right place. Whiterun’s just up the road.” She pointed to the city that rose up from the plain most impressively. “Now, let’s see if this thing had anything worth taking before we get rid of the body. Give me a hand, Ria.”

The two women went to work. Their companion remained at my side. Tall and broad, he carried a two-handed sword on his back and wore black warpaint around his grey eyes. He cut quite the imposing figure. Or did, until he gave me a friendly smile that made my heart skip a beat. Nord men were proving far too attractive, on the whole.

“That was a good shot. Aela doesn’t say that to just anybody.”

“Thanks. I’m usually more a sword and shield kind of person. I think I just got lucky this time. Farkas, right?”

“Yeah. And you?”

I hesitated. Should I give out my actual name when the Empire might be looking for me? “People…uh, call me Earth-Breaker.”

“Well met, then.”

“You, too. So, what were you three doing fighting a giant, anyway?”

“It was a job. It’s been harassing the farmers out here. We’re part of the Companions.”

“Oh! I’ve heard stories! Your hall has a boat for a roof!”

“That’s the one. When you’re in Whiterun you should come up to Jorrvaskr and see it for yourself.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You look strong. You could come be a Companion!”

“You think so?” I flushed a little, but the idea sent a flood of warmth through my heart.  

“Kodlak is the one who figures that out, so talk to him about it when you get there. But I think you’d do good.”

“Thank you. I’d…I’d really like that.”

“Oi, Farkas, come give us a hand!” Ria yelled over. It looked like they had finished whatever they’d been doing and were ready to move the dead giant.

He shrugged. “I guess that’s me.”

“Will you three need help?” I wasn’t sure even three Companions could move such a large corpse by themselves.

“We’ll be fine, don’t worry.” Farkas assured me, gifting me another breathtaking smile.

“Okay. I should probably get going into the city, then. But it was nice to meet you.”

“You too. Maybe I’ll see you again?”

“I hope so.” And I meant it. But then he went off to help his friends, and I was back on the road again. I took a deep breath and muttered to myself as I walked.

“First Ralof and now this one? Morwha preserve me, if all Nord men are this, then I might be in trouble!”

Lydia and Ria.  Do I ship them?  Maybe.

Spoiler below:

Will one of them become Harbinger?  Also an emphatic maybe  ^^

Vilkas: Oh, at least it's sweet roll Middas.

Vilkas: *opens sweet roll box to find a vegetable tray*

Vilkas: What abomination is this? Whose day is it? I want answers. I want revenge!

Ria: Okay, but is it okay if I have some turnip? Cos I love turnips.

Vilkas: No!

Vilkas: I want revenge. Shout it with me!

Ria: Revenge!

Vilkas: Revenge!

Ria: Revenge!

Vilkas: Don't make it sound playful! Put some fury behind it. Revenge!

Ria: Revenge!

Vilkas: REVENGE!

Ria: REVENGE!

Vilkas: REVENGE!

Farkas, whispering: Shh! Shh! I am on the phone with my daughter's teacher!

Vilkas: *slides over the vegetable tray*

Farkas, on the phone: There's been a horrible accident. I gotta call you back.

Farkas: *hangs up the phone* Revenge.

One must always go for the aggressive brunette because apparently that's my type in fandom.

Found Family Tournament Round 1 Part 23 Group 114

Propaganda and further pictures under the cut

The Companions: Kodlak Whitemane, Skjor, Farkas, Vilkas, Aela the Huntress, Njada Stonearm, Ria, Athis, Torvar, Vignar Gray-Mane (& Brill, Eorlund Gray-Mane, Tilma the Haggard)

Iruma's Adopted Family: Suzuki Iruma, Opera, Sullivan

Submissions are still open!

The Companions:

The Companions are a guild of warriors stationed in Whiterun, one of Skyrim’s capital cities. Members of the Companions refer to each other as Shield-Siblings (“Shield-Brother/“Shield-Sister”). Although they claim not to recognize an official leader, Kodlak acts as the guild’s chief advisor and is viewed as a sort of father figure. The guild’s senior members (Kodlak, Skjor, Farkas, Vilkas, Aela) comprise a sub-faction called The Circle and secretly possess the ability to transform into werewolves.

Iruma's Adopted Family:

Iruma's parents sell him to a demon and instead of eating him that demon becomes his doting grandfather and buys him literally everything he could possibly want or need. Opera is his nonbinary catbutler and they are also super protective of Iruma they are all family they love each other Iruma loves them very much and appreciates them for removing him from his abusive parenrs

A

The whole fight sequence between Vilkas and WereDragonborn in Chapter 02 of The Sunder Hunt comic.

Looking back at all these panels is really fun for me as this whole sequence was drawn back in 2020. This is a scene I had played out in my head for years since 2014 and it's a wonderful feeling to see it realized.

TESMERmay 2022 --- MY ideas :)

Ha, ha ha, HAHAHAHAHA!

Long post

Memer

ft. Adoring Fan

Farmer

ft. Dravin Llanith

Boomer

ft. Baladas Demnevanni

Drummer

ft. my Nerevarine Sunny

Customer

ft. Brithaur and Earil

Charmer

ft. my Dragonborn Nay and the companions

Hammer

ft. Aldos Othran

Bummer

ft. Arvel the Swift

Performer

ft. my Nerevarine Sunny and Gureyne Selvilo

TESSDE AU (+ Lucia :]) (Taliesin part 6!!)

Kodlak shakily walks up the stairs, huffing and wheezing, but eyes determined to go out with a fight. Lucia is behind him, terrified, but hears her papa and wants to know he's all right.

It's not looking great. Ria is fighting two on one, Njada is heavily injured, Torvar is downed, and Athis is struggling against one. Taliesin is trying to assist Ria, but is pinned, Berwhale just an inch too far to grab.

Kodlak: *lets out a bellowing roar as he charges in, slicing the two on Ria before bodily shoving the one pinning Taliesin. He takes several hits, but seemingly does not care as he carves right back into them*

Taliesin: *deeply breathing and rolls to grab Berwhale, seeing Lucia poking out from the stairs* Bumblebee! Hide!

Silver Hand 4: RAH!! *stabs their blade into Taliesin's shoulder blade before being punched away by Njada*

Lucia: PAPA!!

Taliesin: *woozy and bleeding heavily, but forces himself to his feet and shoulder checks a Silver Hand off Athis* I SAID HIDE!

Kodlak: *splutters and coughs up blood, managing to cut the cheek of one more Silver Hand before he's buried with blades, falling to the ground*

Njada: NO! KODLAK!

Silver Hand 2: We've compeleted our task! Fall back!

Silver Hands rush out of Jorrvaskr, dodging past anymore attacks and running for their lives, very few remaining from when they first entered.

Taliesin: *huffs and puffs, collapsing to his knees as he gulps in air, looking to Kodlak's body with a grimace* ...Darn it...

Lucia: *runs to him and hugs him tightly, crying* Papa! I'm sorry! I'm so- so sorry!!

Taliesin: *sighs, wincing at her tight grip but holds her back just as strongly, terrified he almost lost her tonight* We're all right, Lucia... we'll be okay... Gods...

Day 7- Ancient/Ceremony

Prompt used- Both

@tes-summer-fest

Wordcount- 1484

Warnings- None

A successful job that turns to a bit of sweetness at the end (hinting at spicy after).  Set in early-game Skyrim.

***

I looked up from my book as Ria stuck her head through our doorway and asked. “Did you hear about the party tomorrow night?” 

“No? Who’s having a party?” 

“They’re having a planting ceremony for that new Gildergreen tree we brought back. It’s going to be a big celebration for the whole city. We need to go! After all, we did make it all happen!” She twirled, presenting a rather official-looking missive with a flourish. “Look, they sent the Companions an invitation!”  

“This sounds like fun,” I agreed, looking over the paper. “I don’t have anything besides my regular clothes to wear, but I suppose that’s fine. We can still have a good time.”

“Oh no, we will go and find you something nice to wear. We’re going down to the market and we are going to find you an outfit right now. You cannot be a guest of honor in armor and travel-stained clothes.” She put her hands on her hips. “Besides, it’ll be fun. Sometimes I like that bit of change, like putting on a costume and being someone else.”

“Okay, okay, you’ve convinced me! Let’s do it. I could stand to have some nice clothes.”

 ***

 About half an hour later, standing in a tailor’s shop, I began to have misgivings. Mother Morwha, what have I gotten myself into? Ria seemed to have a rather specific idea of what I should get, and it was obvious now that her and I were not on the same page. 

I stood in front of a body-length mirror, looking at myself in a soft, blue dress overlaid with a brown girdle and apron. The dress had long sleeves, but the neckline was off-the-shoulder and quite low. The girdle pushed my bust up, and I worried about spilling out if I leaned over. 

“I don’t think this is for me.” I frowned at my reflection.

“Divines above, you’re picky.” Ria shook her head. “Let’s see what else we can find.”

A few outfits later I discovered one I liked. This one was more layers, too. An underdress of grey with elbow-length sleeves, over which went a dark yellow, sleeveless overdress that reminded me of a tabard. Over all of this went a blue apron the length of the overdress that was decorated with Nordic scrollwork in a dull gold. The whole works was belted together around the waist and finished with a fur shoulder-cape held with two large pins and a chain between them. 

“Okay, that one actually really works on you,” Ria admitted. 

And so that was the one I bought. I thanked Tall Papa that I’d just gotten off a good job, and had the extra coin for it, because it was a little pricey. But it was nice to have it. 

 ***

 Ria insisted we get ready together the next day, and I was more than happy to do so. I certainly wasn’t going to do so with Njada, who still gave me poisonous looks when she passed and sneered in my general direction. 

After we dressed, Ria began to brush her hair into an elaborate, Cyrodilian style. I braided mine in two plaits, starting from the front all the way to the back. I coiled the braids at the back of my head, pinning them down. Once done, I helped Ria finish hers. Then I smiled. 

"We look good!" 

 "Good?' She adjusted her soft, green girdle, pushing up her cleavage a little more. "We look great! Let's go see if everyone else is ready!" 

 The hall was almost empty as we reached the top of the stairs. Only Aela was left, standing by the door wearing a massive cloak of pure, white fur held by elaborate gold pins. She gave us a wry smile. 

 "The others have gone ahead. I… I just need a moment before I join in. This is the first celebration I will be attending alone in some time." 

 "I understand. Take all the time you need." I wondered then if Skjor had given her the cloak, or if they’d hunted its source together.  

 "You two should go. The others are waiting for you outside. After all, this is your doing. You should be out there receiving the glory you deserve." She shooed us off toward the door. 

 As we began to descend the stairs from Jorrvaskr down to where the large, ancient tree had once stood, all eyes fell on us. I took a deep breath, not relishing being the sudden center of attention. And it wasn’t just the Companions waiting for us. Practically all of Whiterun was in the process of gathering for the planting. It really would be a city-wide event. It filled me with warmth to see, even if so many eyes looking in my direction made me nervous. 

 It was better once we got to the bottom and folded in with the rest of the Companions. Everyone looked so nice, and it made me glad that Ria had insisted on new clothes. Kodlak greeted us both warmly, resplendent in fur-trimmed finery in white and dark blue. 

 “Ah, you’ve arrived, Sisters! And just in time, the priestess will be starting soon, and this honor is yours, after all!” He clapped us both on the back. 

 “The honor is for us all, for the glory of the Companions,” I replied. 

 “Well, today you two are the guests of the hour, we’re just here by association.” He smiled. “Your own honor is just as important, my dear, as the group’s. Don’t be humble.”

 Ria was happy to mingle and talk up the citizens. Soon she was out in the crowd recounting the tale of our adventure. I stayed back a bit, talking with Ulfberth and Adrianne instead. When they moved on, I began to wander. The rest of our brothers and sisters had dissipated into the throng, leaving me alone. It made me realize that I didn’t know as many people in Whiterun yet as I thought I did. 

 It was near the turnoff into the Temple of Kynareth that I finally spotted some familiar faces. A tall fellow and what appeared to be a couple of his friends were talking with the twins, who looked quite dashing in dark, fur trimmed cloaks over belted tunics thickly embroidered with gold thread. Vilkas was in deep green, Farkas in rich burgundy. I headed toward them a little hesitantly, not wanting to interrupt. 

 But Vilkas caught sight of me anyway. He frowned a little, then broke into a laugh. “Sister, I hardly recognized you! Come and join us. Avulstein, this is our Shield-Sister Besharat. Besharat, this is Eorlund’s son.” 

 “Well met,” I said graciously as we shook hands. Then he and Vilkas were back into whatever they’d been discussing and I stepped back and let them continue. 

 I found myself standing beside Farkas and on the periphery of the ongoing conversation. He was staring at me as if I’d transformed into Leki herself, and my face suddenly felt very warm. I could only hope I wasn’t blushing too obviously. My heart sped up as he reached out and took my hand in his. When he started to step back, I followed. 

 He led me up alongside the wall of the temple, until we found a quiet spot. Now it was just the two of us. 

 “You look so beautiful tonight.” His hand slid around my waist, resting in the small of my back. 

 I flustered badly. “You’re too kind.”

 “I see it every day. This just makes everyone see it.” He tilted my chin up with gentle fingers, brushing them along my jaw as he leaned down to kiss me. My body reacted more strongly than I anticipated, arching itself against him as my hands slipped around those big, broad shoulders. 

 If only it could’ve lasted forever. But eventually, he pulled away. Our eyes met, and I was enraptured. I drowned in their silver depths, lost to the outside world.

 “Besharat…”

 “Farkas?” I wanted so badly to drag him back to the hall right this moment and finally give in to my desire. Even right here would’ve been fine, despite the lack of privacy. 

 “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.” The low growl of his voice made my whole body ache in the most frustratingly delicious way. 

 “Me, too.” 

 “Besharat, when we get back to Jorrvaskr, would you…?”

 “Sweet Mother Morwha, yes.” I interrupted. 

 A sudden hush fell out in the crowd, and we heard the priestess, Danica, begin to speak. We looked at one another, then wordlessly made our way back. It wouldn’t do to miss the ceremony, after all. And they’d notice if we weren’t there. We’d just make up for it later.     

 So we stood, hand-in-hand, and watched as a new Gildergreen came to Whiterun. And in our hearts, knowing we were also beginning down a new path. Together.

Athis and Njada have a very unbalanced fight. Njada is clearly winning.

Hragnette finds herself being judged by everyone after applying to join the Companions.

Ria has a drink.

Hragnette makes a pilgrimage to the Hall of the Vigilant, to get away from the Companions. Here she's wearing a lovely Rustic Robes by sforzinda.

Hragnette gets her picture taken with Keeper Carcette.

You look at me like you could see through me, But I can see a bit of you too. So when you act like you do not know me, I know that you’re just playing it cool. I can be your sandpaper. ⚔️ www.youtube.com/watch?v=cXyn4q… ⚔️

A little scene illustrating how Araduna and Vilkas got... acquainted. 

I wrote up a short story to go along with this drawing and give it more context. I will add it here in the cut below.

But here’s a quick little perspective on the whole situation:

From the start, Vilkas was skeptical of her, and her titles. He had never heard of this particular Thane of Whiterun. And he certainly couldn’t imagine her being the Dragonborn. She came to them with no connections, no professional references. She claimed the Jarl had given her a housecarl, but this servant was no where in sight. He sees her using magic as a crutch and finds her self-righteous traits repulsive.

Araduna is skeptical of Vilkas as well, suspecting he is hiding something from everyone. She can hear him groaning and growling in his sleep from her cot. The sounds only a guilty man with intrusive night thoughts would make. On top of this, his brooding and negative ways are frustrating beyond no end.

So neither of them are fans of the other and both tend to be hot-headed. 

⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️ They had given her new armor. While it felt much more secure than the tattered Thalmor robes she had snatched from a dead body just before arriving in Whiterun, it was still an unfamiliar sensation on her body. The scale mail and hide felt so different from the chitin armor she was used to. But it would have to suffice. After all, they gave her the armor out of kindness. At least, she assumed it was kindness. The Companions were such a strange bunch. Compared to many of the humans Araduna had met, they seemed to be much more...liberal. If nothing else, they allowed her to rest and train with them without giving her strange looks or muttering under their breath about her. If they had a problem with each other, it was spoken out loud and dealt with. Usually with fists. That was something Araduna could certainly respect. Since being invited into their sacred halls, Ara discovered some kinship with the only other mer of the group, Athis, a fellow Dunmer. While different experiences had lead them to Jorrvaskr and he'd seem to have fully conformed to the culture of Skyrim, they felt some solidarity. Araduna found herself yearning for home again. Almost two weeks had gone by and she had been involved in more rigorous training. If only to pass time as she collected coin for her long voyage home and healed from prior injury. But she had a feeling it was going to be a long, long while before her feet would be on familiar soil again. Especially with all this prophecy and dragon nonsense. All her life others had been telling her of her potential, her mysterious destiny, her bright future ahead--she wanted no part of it anymore. Especially now. She was going to take charge of her own life for once and for all. Why should it be her responsibility to uphold the standards others placed on her life? She wasn't a good person, and she was okay with that. She wanted no part in some other land's prophecy and wasn't inclined to believe it should have any business with her either. While practicing one-handed combat with Athis proved to be a great distraction during the days, Ara was growing restless. She had come along on a few missions so far, but nothing exciting. She sat in the mead hall of the Companions, sipping on a half-empty tankard. The drink wasn't good, but at least it took the edge off. Athis sat close with a seat between them, munching on bread and tending to a small cut she had dealt on his arm during their practice. The table was huge, peppered with lit candles between plates of food and drink prepared by Tilma, the maid. The other Companions were still in the courtyard with the last of the sunlight, clashing blades for practice. Only she and Athis had come in to take a breather. She stared at the doors leading out to Whiterun and sighed. "If real combat does not find me soon, I may 'ave to hunt it down. I feel so useless 'ere." she mused, holding her hand up to eye-level.  Small sparks crackled between her fingers. It had been so long since she used her magic. The Companions weren't exactly fans of the arcane arts in combat, and she longed to let the sparks spill from her fingertips. She wasn't feeling up to venturing out on her own just yet, but she was gaining her strength back. The male Dunmer lightly scoffed with a raised brow, finishing his snack. "Well, don't look at me. I'm not gonna be the one to bail ya out of trouble." There was a haughty but slightly playful air in his voice. "Think I fancy meself a nap." He pushed back on his chair, rising from his seat to retire for the evening. Araduna smirked. While conversation with Athis was often... dry, hearing his familiar accent was a small comfort. She threw her head back, gulping down the last of the liquid in her tankard and wincing at the awful taste. "If you're not happy here, you should consider leaving." Another voice broke her moment of peace. This one gravely. Harsh. Nordic. The dark elf turned her head to the courtyard doors; her clouded gaze meeting the icy stare of Vilkas. He still had his great sword in hand, clearly coming back from practice. His stoic expression was highlighted in the bouncing candlelight. She wasn't sure how long he had been standing there, but it creeped her out just a bit. While most of the Companions either welcomed her fairly warmly or were civil at best, Vilkas did little to hide his skepticism. He made it clear from the start that he was not comfortable with accepting this new recruit. "I will, once my strength is renewed." she stated plainly, looking down and swirling the last drop of mead in her cup. "But I'm doing little more than the maid 'round 'ere. My blade thirsts for a real challenge again." The rhythmic sound of metal armor clinking against itself could be heard as Vilkas come closer to the long table. His face was covered in a mix of sweat, dirt, and faded warpaint, which only made his piercing blue eyes more prominent. "Kodlak allowed you to join our ranks, and I trust his judgement, but you're not one of us. Not yet. Not until you've proven yourself worthy." He reached up with his weapon, sliding his great sword into its sheath upon his back, and stepped forward to grab a bottle of mead. "Besides, that little axe you carry won't do much. You need a real sword." He put the mead bottle to his lips and threw his head back, chugging the entire thing. Araduna blinked, watching the almost barbaric display. She couldn't look away, but forced herself to refocus on his words.   She stood up, resting her hand upon the hilt of her elven axe. While it wasn't exactly special itself, she had fought tooth and nail with a bandit in order to get it. It had gotten her this far through this strange land and she was developing something of an emotional attachment to it. "It's quick and agile. At least I'm not lumberin' 'round with an iron bar on my back." She crossed her arms, stepping closer to the Nord. But her face involuntarily scrunched at the smell of sweat and BO he gave off. "This 'iron bar' can divorce a man's head from his shoulders in the blink of an eye." Vilkas stated, grabbing the hilt of his sword behind his head. He was clearly offended, setting down the empty mead bottle with some aggression. "I'm sure you're... sufficient with your blade. But it takes more than brute force to be a good warrior." Araduna smirked, shifting her weight to her hip. Vilkas exhaled sharply. "I fight with all the skill of a true Nord warrior. The very skill of my ancestors." He boasted, placing his knuckles against his hips and tilting his head up in a prideful manner. Araduna snorted. Nords seemed to make a habit of bragging about their Nord-ness so much that it was a bit laughable. "Alright." Looking the scruffy man in the eyes, she stepped forward to challenge him. Maybe his smell didn't bother her quite as much as she initially thought. Besides, she didn't smell much better. "I bet I can best ya in combat." It was Vilkas' turn to snort. He then gave a hearty laugh, pointing to the aged axe upon Araduna's hip. "Not with that children's toy." "Fine." Araduna rushed up the steps to where a weapons rack hung on the wall. She grabbed an iron sword, placing her axe in the now empty spot on the rack. "I'll use this." Vilkas scoffed, clearly making fun. It was barely half the size of the colossal blade upon his back, but could be just as deadly in the right hands. "A sword's a sword. Now..." She quickly turned toward the doors to the courtyard and stepped through them.   The Nord warrior chuckled to himself, amused at the tenacity of this dark elf. She was a feisty one for sure. The pair met in the cobblestone training grounds outside the hall. The other Companions had begun to retire and were sitting down on the outside benches, chatting. They went quiet as they witnessed Vilkas and the new recruit squaring up. "Let's do this." Araduna said before charging forward. Vilkas smirked, easily blocking her blade. Araduna tuned her face up, preparing another blow. "You're too eager. Try to find your center and shift your balance as you swing." Vilkas explained, shifting into his 'teacher' voice. Ara huffed. She was not doing this to get combat advice. She wanted to knock him down a peg. The pair continued to go at it, becoming more and more aggressive as neither one seemed to back down. Sparks flickered in their faces as their swords clashed. The Companions watched the show from their seats. This was far more entertaining than just sitting and chatting. Aela the Huntress sat back with her feet resting on another chair. She rested her hands behind her head. "Looks like I'm seeing sparks." she laughed to herself. Ria, another newer recruit sat not too far from her, drinking mead and following the action. She slightly turned her head to Aela, without taking her eyes off the dueling pair in front of them. "Isn't that bad for the blade?" she asked, resting her tankard on the wooden table. "...Maybe." Aela smirked as she grabbed Ria's mead and gulped down the rest of it herself. ⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️

Ria: I'm not a catgirl or whatever but sometimes I DO have to meow just to break the silence y'know?

Aela the Huntress, a werewolf: Ew.

Making a List

When Vilkas stepped into the mead hall alongside Aela, both of them in need of a bath after a job involving a cave full of bandits and a chase across what felt like the entirety of the Whiterun plains, he immediately noticed most of the other Companions gathered at the far end of the dining table, involved in an animated discussion about what seemed to be a piece of parchment on the table between them. That in and of itself wasn’t odd – it might just have been a contract of some kind, or a bounty letter, but the fact that Torvar wasn’t nursing a drink and Njada and Athis weren’t fighting caught his attention. He could tell from the look on Aela’s face that she was equally intrigued, and so she was right behind him as he walked over to the group.

“What exactly are you doing?” he asked them, and while he wasn’t quite sure what kind of answer he had expected, “Making a list!” was not it. It was also not a very satisfying answer, a thought Aela immediately voiced.

“A list of what?” she questioned. “It can hardly be more shopping, given that we passed Farkas and Rienn down at the market, and they’re busy lugging around whatever Tilma says we might need.”

“No, no, it’s nothing like that,” Ria said without looking up from, well, the list. She was currently adding something to it, Vilkas noticed, and did not deem it necessary to really answer the question.

“That looks about right,” she finally decided.

Athis, who sat next to her and therefore had the easiest time reading whatever it was she’d written down, nodded. “I’ve had that one thrown at me as well.”

“Would someone please explain what is on that list?” Aela finally cut in, clearly annoyed at being mostly ignored.

“Thanks, Aela,” Vilkas muttered – he was not a very patient man when it came to silly matters such as this.

It was Njada who finally spoke up.

“It’s nothing all that important, just something we’ve been thinking about for a while. You know how you always encounter some draugr whenever you enter an old ruin?”

“Yes, naturally,” Vilkas sighed. “I don’t see how that’s relevant, unless, of course, all of you have suddenly become very interested in the different types of undead warriors.”

“Not quite,” Njada said. “It’s not so much about the draugr themselves, but about what they say. We can’t understand any of it, but they do seem to have some favorite lines. Insults, if we’re right. So we’re making a list.”

“A list. Of insults.” Aela’s eyebrow shot up.

Vilkas could relate, and though he was not sure he really wanted to know, he still asked, “To what end?”

“Actually, that’s where Rienn comes in,” Ria explained. “She once told me that the draugr speak in what she called Dovahzul. The dragon language.”

“So we thought that since she’s pretty good at that shouting business by now, and the shouts are in the same language, she might… translate all of this stuff for us,” Torvar added. “That’s what the list is for, so we don’t forget anything now that we have an expert on hand.”

“And you are sure you have nothing better to do than to bother Rienn with this…?” Aela asked, somewhat amused.

Vilkas supposed that she didn’t quite see the point of knowing what insults some long-dead bonemen were spewing, and neither did he.

“We have some work to do, Athis and I,” Ria admitted. “But there’s no use in leaving now, it’s a vampire den and it’s nearby, so if we left now, we’d have to fight them at night. The sun’s going to go down in an hour or two. I’d rather fight them when I can retreat back into daylight.”

“Smart choice,” Vilkas found himself agreeing, even if he still did not necessarily approve of the way the four of them chose to spend their evening. “You don’t want to be out at night with those things chasing you.”

Nodding, Ria turned back towards the list and began scribbling another entry.

Aela simply shook her head at the others’ antics.

“Well, Vilkas, I think we should leave them to it,” she announced, grabbing his arm and leading him away from the group. “Let’s get ourselves cleaned up, and then we can rescue your woman in case they ambush her as soon as she’s done carrying a week’s worth of food.”

Vilkas simply rolled his eyes at her. “How many times do I have to tell you this? Rienn’s my friend, nothing more.”

“You just keep telling yourself that,” Aela smirked, patting him on the back. “She might still need a rescue, though, so you, my friend, should get rid of all that dust and blood clinging to you.”

The Harbinger rolled his eyes at the huntress, but let himself be pulled down the stairs towards the living quarters anyway.

The first thing he heard when he came back upstairs some time later was laughter. He hadn’t been gone that long – he’d only taken the time to wash up and get the worst of the blood off of his armor – but it seemed that Farkas, Rienn and Tilma have returned from the market. As Aela expected, the other Companions seem to have dragged Rienn into their ‘research’ already.

Farkas, meanwhile, was leaning on a pillar not far from the group, clearly amused, so Vilkas decided to join his brother.

“How long have they been at this?” Farkas greeted him, taking a sip from the mug he was holding.

Vilkas shrugged. “Not sure, but when Aela and I got here, they were already working on their collection of draugr insults and clearly had been at it for a while.”

“Except most of them don’t seem to be insults,” Farkas pointed out. “More like threats of pain and death.”

“Hardly surprising, if you ask me, but then again I suppose they’d find insults more fun.”

“Seems like it,” Farkas confirmed, “given that Athis suggested coming up with their own. Rienn says her vocabulary is limited though, at least where this stuff is concerned.”

“I can imagine,” Vilkas chuckled.

Rienn… did not like curses and insults all that much, and on the rare occasion she was angry enough to use them, the ones she already knew served her well enough.

He could hear her now, her tone exasperated but not yet at a point where rescue was necessary, talking about the one insulting phrase the Companions seemed to have uncovered.

“No, Torvar,” she explained with her face hidden in her hands while the other three cackled, “it’s really just a literal translation. Lir means worm. Nothing else. Dovahzul is very… direct. There aren’t many hidden meanings, and insults based on, let’s say, human anatomy don’t exist. No need to worry.”

“See, told you so,” Njada wheezed, though she was laughing so hard one could barely understand her.

“Do you think,” Farkas asked after listening in on that particular conversation for another few moments, “that it’s time to get Rienn out of there before the others get any other bright ideas?”

Vilkas, noting that there were, in fact, several more drinks than there had been on the table a while ago, nodded. “I think it is. Or else they might want to start learning shouts, and that is a spectacle I don’t want to witness.”

“Into the fray, then,” Farkas huffed as he pushed himself away from the pillar, and Vilkas followed. He still owed Rienn a favor anyway.

Dragonborn or not, there were simply some situations she needed help with, and dealing with slightly drunk Companions intent on learning how to insult dragons and draugr alike in their own language was certainly among them.

______________

@tes-summer-fest​ Day 5: Language