Chapter Text
"Mornin' Snuggle Wolf," Vilkas whispered, leaning in and kissing just below Lewin's ear, trailing his tongue down the back of his neck, listening to his soft moan with pleasure.
"Too early," he grumbled, rolling more fully on top of Copper.
"Hardly," he responded, running his fingers lightly over the moons tattooed on his right shoulder, following the geometric patterned tattoo down his back. The one he said he got because the pattern was interesting. He wasn't wrong, but why get it on his back if he liked the pattern? Snorting his amusement against Lewin's back, he watched his muscles flex slightly at the sudden temperature change.
"You're impossible," Lewin said, shivering with a groan when he ran his tongue up his spine. "Do you wake Copper up this way?"
"Sometimes," he said, nipping the back of his neck. "But I'd wager they're a little sore this morning."
Copper laughed softly from under Lewin. "Maybe a little."
Vindicated, Vilkas turned his attention back to Lewin, running his fingers gently down his back. "You know, Snuggles, we need to take advantage of this quiet spot. No chance of brothers or other pack members barging in. No vampires camping out just feet away."
"You're just a sex fiend," he countered, rolling over to smirk up at him.
"As if you're not," he said, leaning in to kiss him, reaching a hand down to tease at his erect cock.
He shook his head. "Mornings are hard," he said. "You know that."
With a snort of their own, Copper sat up with a low sigh, stretching upward, flushing with a laugh when Lewin and Vilkas both paused to watch them. "Not distracted enough with each other?" they asked, shaking their head.
"We always have time for you," Lewin said, wrapping his fingers around Vilkas' cock, grinning smugly when he shuddered with a small oath.
"I'll dig out the oil for you," Copper said, moving away from them.
Turning his attention back to Lewin, Vilkas leaned in and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. "Up for this?" he asked, voice lightly teasing.
"Mm, I suppose if I must be up this early, there are worse ways to start the day."
"So glad," he said, leaning in and kissing him on the mouth, shifting his position so he could rub his cock against his, arousal tightening his groin.
"Almost a pity I'm sore," Copper said, setting the oil next to them, sounding wistful. "But I'll enjoy from a distance while I cook breakfast."
"Sex and breakfast," Vilkas said. "Enough to wake you properly?" he asked, coating two fingers with oil, circling with one, sliding gently into his ass, watching his face as he moved.
He moaned, pressing his head back against the bedding, bucking his hips into his touch.
"I'll take that as a yes," he said warmly, thrusting his finger in and out a few more times before adding another, moving slowly, curling them, smirking when Lewin groaned and bucked his hips. "So impatient," he teased. "What am I going to do with you?"
"Fucking me would be a good start," he grumbled, a few drops of pre-cum dripping off his cock.
"Mm, I suppose I could see my way to doing that," he said, sliding his fingers out, grinning at his low hiss. "You're as bad as Copper," he chided, pouring oil on his hand, slicking his cock with it before pressing his head against Lewin's tight ring.
He moaned, shifting his hips when he slid slowly in, digging his fingers hard into the blanket. "Fuck, you feel good."
"Such foul language for a noble," he teased.
"Your influence," he moaned. "You've rubbed off on me and Copper both."
"Oh, is that it?" he asked, pausing, trembling at the feel of him around him. With a low groan, he leaned over him, hooking his leg over his hip, driving into him, letting his moans dictate his pace, pressing a kiss to his throat, his beard scraping lightly against him when he hooked his arms around him, pulling him closer.
Lewin shuddered, twisting beneath him, meeting each of his thrusts, and he groaned, shuddering through an orgasm when he bit down on his throat, shocks of pleasure arcing along his spine, radiating through his body.
Pulling out, still shaky, he wrapped his hand around Lewin's cock, little needed to pull him over into his own orgasm.
Shivering, he braced on one arm, breathing hard. "Morning, Snuggles," he said softly, leaning in to nuzzle gently against his shoulder.
"A good way to wake up," Lewin murmured. "You're forgiven for waking me so early."
He chuckled, kissing his shoulder, pulling up reluctantly, looking for Copper, finding them red cheeked and flipping some pork on a griddle by the fire. Smirking, he offered Lewin a hand. "I think we had an audience," he murmured, gesturing toward them.
They flushed harder, keeping their head slightly ducked.
Shaking his head, Lewin stretched. "Well, let's get cleaned up and give them a hand with breakfast. Since we seem to have distracted them away from that project some."
"Good thinking," Vilkas agreed, rising and heading toward the springs, Lewin close behind.
"You've picked up some new tricks," Vilkas noted, munching on a salty strip of meat.
"Vitene taught me some things she learned from Celann," they explained. "I thought I'd test them on you two."
"Do you have more you can test?" Lewin asked, leaning in and kissing their cheek.
"I might. We'll have to see what the future brings."
Vilkas smiled, hooking his arm around their waist, tugging them closer, Lewin slipping in tighter on their other side. "So, we need a good kitchen in this little house. Something with room for all three of us to experiment." He looked at Lewin. "You're not getting out of it either. You'll learn the ins and outs of cooking before I'm done."
"Is that a promise, or a threat?" he asked, scent alight with amusement.
"Both," he said comfortably.
Copper laughed. "You're a menace, Wolfie Boy."
"I'm alright with that," he said. "And you're one to talk."
Lewin sighed, moving to snag a book and bringing it back, flipping it open.
"Oh, is that the spell?" Copper asked, moving in to lean over him.
Vilkas watched, bracing on his leg, wolf spirit settled contentedly.
Soon Lewin and Copper were debating merits of the spell, and he rose with a small chuckle, cleaning up the dishes and wandering the edges of their small camp. He paused near the edge, staring into the distance, listening for any signs of trouble. Might need to check Shimmermist again. Before we start building out here. Make sure there's no chance of Falmer taking up residence in there again. Crossing his arms, he worried at the idea for a while, thinking through different solutions before turning back toward the fire when he heard raised voices.
"What's wrong?" he asked, moving closer.
"We can't agree on if the spell itself is faulty, or if the instructions are," Copper said, mirth dancing in their eyes. "I say that the instructions are awful for anything you want to keep safe from a thief. And Lewin thinks that if it was made properly, it wouldn't matter."
"What are the instructions?" he asked, sitting down cross-legged by Copper.
"To cast it on the lock," Lewin responded.
"So, what's keeping someone from breaking the lock off? Or pulling the hinges?"
"Precisely!" Copper said, giving Lewin a triumphant look. "Exactly what I was saying."
"And what are you saying?" Vilkas asked.
"That if it was a properly made spell it would extend protection to the hinges," he said mildly, a small smile on his face.
"I see," he responded, watching them both, thinking it through. "Have to say I agree with him, Pet," he said at last. "If the spell would actually deter thieves it would need to extend protection to every weak point."
They gasped, twisting around, draping themself across his lap. "You sided against me?" they asked, giving him a pleading look, silver specked eyes glimmering in the sunlight.
He laughed, tapping their nose. I'm glad they're feeling better. Especially after speaking to Brynjolf last night. "You're certainly dramatic today."
"So rude," they complained, pushing up and leaning against him properly, reaching a hand out for Lewin.
With a smile, he moved to join them, kissing Copper's cheek, leaning in to kiss Vilkas. "You two are ridiculous," he accused, his voice and scent heavy with warmth.
"But you love it," Copper said easily.
Vilkas caught a sharp startle in Lewin's scent, glancing at him, watching his expression as he worked through their words, and the potential implication behind them.
"Well," he started softly. "You're not wrong."
Reaching a hand up, Vilkas rested it on his cheek. "Think you can adapt that spell easily enough?" he asked, scenting a flare of relief swiftly chased by a tinge of guilt. It'll take time. We know that.
"Should be simple enough. Just need to source the spectacles themselves."
He nodded. "If the caravan isn't already there, I'll ask around a bit, see if anyone has any idea when they'll be back. Worst comes to worst, I can ask Eorlund. As I mentioned, he should be able to make something. It'll just take a little longer."
"Good."
Copper twisted between them, leaning their back against Vilkas, draping their legs over Lewin's lap.
"Comfortable?" Vilkas asked, kissing their hair.
"I am," they said. "Are you?"
He considered it, shifting close enough to Lewin that their legs touched, pulling Copper into his lap properly, Lewin resting his hand over their legs. "I am now."
Wrapping his arm around Lewin, he sighed, kissing his hair, leaning his head against his and closing his eyes. Very comfortable.
It was a reluctant trio who returned to Whiterun. Vilkas inordinately pleased to realize he wasn't the only one who was disappointed at the loss of their respite, his mood lifting further when he spotted the caravan near the walls.
"We'll have to go out there again once this is over," Lewin said, following him toward the caravan.
"We will," Copper agreed.
Vilkas smiled, pushing away thoughts of what might await them once they reached Jorrvaskr. "Afternoon Ri'saad," he greeted.
"Ah, Vilkas," he responded. "It has been some time since you came to my caravan."
Shaking his head at the reproach in his voice, he stepped closer. "War will do that at times."
His whiskers quivered as he struggled to hide his laugh. "But you do not fight on a side," he pointed out, then glanced at Whiterun. "It is good to see the city survived the Stormcloak siege."
"Were you nearby when it started?" he asked, glancing over his wares.
"This one's scout brought news of it before we crossed the border back from the Reach," he said. "We took the opportunity to meet with Ma'dran and see how his caravan is doing."
"I'm glad you weren't caught up in any of it," he said honestly. "Any new alchemical ingredients?"
He shook his head. "Regretfully, there has been nothing new on that account since we last spoke."
"I thought it might be a long shot."
"Who have you brought alongside you, my friend?" he asked, looking between Copper and Lewin pensively.
"This is Copper. They're the one I bought the alchemical ingredients for. And this is Lewin."
"A pleasure to meet you both." He smiled. "Is there something the matter?" he asked, looking at Copper.
They shook their head. "Just curious about that ring you're wearing."
He smiled, teeth gleaming. "This one is impressed that you can see it, five-claw. You must be blessed by the shadows to make it out so well."
Vilkas could smell the concern behind the smile and frowned slightly, brow furrowing as he glanced at his hand. He must be wearing at least six rings. Which one are they talking about?
"Not exactly," Copper responded. "But my apologies. I didn't mean for it to distract me. Do you have more bittergreen petals?"
The unease in his scent eased and he nodded slightly. "Much. It is a useful plant."
What ring did Copper recognize? Frowning, he shook it off as Ri'saad flicked his fingers in a pattern he didn't know. "And what of you?" he asked, turning his attention to Lewin.
"Ah, Vilkas suggested you might have something we're looking for," he responded. "Any chance you carry mage glasses?"
"I do," he said, leaning back and snagging a closed chest. "Are you looking for an enchanted variety?"
"I'd prefer no enchantments if possible. I have one of my own that I need to apply, and mixing enchantments can be iffy."
"This is true," he agreed, nodding to one of his fellow Khajiit when she brought a small pack over. "The bittergreen petals are here," he explained, tapping the sack. "Speak with Atahbah about how much you need."
Copper nodded, slipping slightly to the side to speak with her.
Vilkas tracked his gaze between them, glancing toward some of the other Khajiit, watching them spar. I wonder if they'd be open to my sparring with them. It would be interesting to see if I could learn something new.
"Copper," Lewin said, "see if this pair fits," he said, offering a gold rimmed set of spectacles to them when they came over, a bundle of bittergreen in their hand.
Reaching their free hand out, they rested them on their nose.
"Hmm," Ri'saad mused. "You will want a chain to connect, so they are not easily lost."
"Agreed," Lewin said. "But I think the base fit works."
He nodded.
"Are they comfortable?" Lewin asked.
"Feels a bit odd but I think I'll get used to them," they said.
"Good." He turned to Ri'saad. "They'll do. Any soul gems? Grand and filled would be best."
"Of course," he said, moving to snag another small box.
Vilkas turned his attention to Copper, considering how the glasses affected their face. I think I like the look. It fits them.
They looked up at him, peering over the lenses, and he sucked in a deep breath. Yes. I like that very much.
"Glad the caravan was there," Lewin said, moving toward the gates proper. "Now we can focus on enchanting them and won't need to wait for them to get made."
Copper nodded, pushing the lenses up slightly with their finger. "It'll take a bit to get used to them."
You look good in them. I hope the enchantment works.
"You will," he said. "And I'll see if I can alter the spell slightly to make it unbreakable. That's an enchantment I know by heart."
"Why is that?" they asked.
"My uncle Theo wears glasses. And two of his children do as well. Theirs are because their vision isn't the best."
"Even with...?" Vilkas asked. Becoming a werewolf didn't change that? I know my vision became much sharper.
"If anything, it made their vision even worse," he said, shaking his head. "But they make do."
"Fascinating," he murmured, leaning in close to Lewin when Copper paused to look at something. "What do you think of them in glasses?"
He frowned, pausing when Copper turned to look at them, sighing and looking over their glasses again. "Is something wrong?"
Lewin looked up at him, narrowing his eyes. "Now I'm going to struggle to focus while enchanting them," he complained.
Vilkas laughed. "Glad I'm not alone in that," he said cheerfully, moving to catch up with Copper. "Nothing wrong," he promised. "Just an unexpected side-effect of your new gear."
They gave him a suspicious look, tracking their gaze between him and Lewin.
"We'll tell you later," Lewin said, moving to join them.
"What ring did you mention Ri'saad wearing?" he asked.
"Ah, there was one wrapped in shadows," they explained.
"An enchantment?" Lewin wondered.
"No, stronger than that," they said. "But I think he was getting uncomfortable with my attention on it. If I remember, I might describe it to Brynjolf, see if he recognizes it."
"I can think of a few artifacts that a Khajiit trader could find useful," Lewin noted. "If you decide to look into it, I'll give you a hand."
They gave him a warm smile, Vilkas glancing around the market as they neared it. Looking forward to moving on to the Reach. So the next time we're here we don't have anything threatening our peace.
"I've been thinking," Celann said. "And discussing this with Isran and Serana. Lewin, you noted that Irileth questioned if you'd been to the Reach."
"She did."
"Well, knowing that, maybe we should see if we can bait Volisea into showing herself."
"Bait how?" Copper asked, fiddling with their glasses again.
"Send someone up there who has been to the Reach lately and make it an open topic. Probably with the court wizard."
"Or with the guard," Vilkas suggested. "There are a few reasons for a Companion to go up there."
"Did you have an idea?" Isran asked.
He considered it, crossing his arms and mulling things over. Honestly, it might make the most sense to attempt to approach Irileth herself. And of everyone who's been to the Reach recently, I'm the best candidate. He shivered. I don't want to get that close to an unknown vampire but better to know what we're dealing with here. "Might be best to approach Irileth directly. I could do that under the guise of talking to her my opinions about how Madanach is running the Reach. As Housecarl she's interested in the defense of the Hold, and knowing how stable things are there would interest her. And it's easily something Nevian would ask me to do."
"True enough," Nevian agreed. "If it was one of the whelps, I'd join them. But for a Circle member, they'd go themselves."
"Are you alright with this?" Copper asked, smelling stressed.
"You'll know where I am the whole time," he responded. Which makes this very different than what happened before.
"I could go with you," Lewin offered, forehead creased slightly.
"No. Focus on the enchanting. The sooner that's done, the better."
He shook his head. "I know it's important. But I won't be able to focus on it until you came back down here."
"He might have some insight that would be useful," Serana suggested quietly. "Although, I am another option. She might reveal more if I go up there."
"That's a fair point," he conceded.
"It may be the best point," Isran said gruffly.
"Alright," Lewin agreed, looking unhappy.
I'm not much happier about this and I volunteered.
"Best do it now," Isran said. "Before it gets too late in the day."
"You just love sending me out in the sun," Serana complained, grinning when he sighed heavily.
"I'll be careful," Vilkas promised, moving to give Copper and Lewin each a quick kiss. "Work on those glasses if you can. They may prove useful soon." If this vampire isn't friendly.
"It feels strange to be this nervous here," Serana grumbled, pausing at the top of the stairs leading to Dragonsreach. "I didn't realize I'd come to view Whiterun as such a safe place."
"I feel the same way," Vilkas responded, looking over the city before looking back at Serana.
She nodded slightly, and they moved swiftly to the door, pushing it open and stepping inside.
Dragonsreach was unnaturally still, and his spine stiffened, jaw clenching, wolf growling softly in his chest.
He shushed him with a thought, focusing on the dais ahead of them, slowing when he heard a whisper to the side.
"I don't know where he is though, Frothar. I can't find him anywhere."
"What did papa say?" Frothar asked.
"That he'd 'turn up eventually,'" she responded. "I hate it."
Someone noticed Nelkir's absence. But it seems he was right about his father not noticing. Is that because of how Balgruuf treats him? Or because of the vampire?
Irileth appeared to be paying as close attention as usual, but Vilkas noted that her hand didn't go to her sword hilt when they neared, unease souring his stomach. Someone who doesn't know her wouldn't notice that.
Resisting the urge to rub a hand over his face he moved to the foot of the dais, Serana his quiet shadow.
"Companion," Balgruuf greeted. "What brings you to Dragonsreach?"
"I returned from Markarth recently," he responded. "I was hoping to have a meeting with Irileth so I could tell her my impressions of how Madanach is running things in the Reach."
Balgruuf's face darkened. "So, it's true then. Madanach rules over the Reach again."
"Yes, Jarl," he responded. You should know that already.
"I had hoped those rumors were exaggerated," he grumbled. "That he'd have been ousted already."
Strange for Balgruuf to speak about this so openly. But further proof that the vampire is creating trouble in his court. "I don't see that happening anytime soon," he said honestly, watching his face, breathing deeply to try and get a sense of his mood, picking up hints of agitation in his scent, a strange sickly scent nearly overpowering it. He's been weakened. I don't like that.
"I'll join you and Irileth for these discussions," he said firmly, glancing to the side. "Proventus. How is my schedule."
"You have time for a meeting now, Jarl," Proventus said. "We don't have another appointment until the morning."
Vilkas glanced at him, watching him shift his weight slightly, his skin unnaturally pale, his movements stiff. I don't like that. He looks like he could drop at any moment.
"Good. We'll take this upstairs." Rising from his throne, Balgruuf ambled toward the stairs, Irileth at his side in an instant.
A quick glance netted no sign of Hrongar, and he frowned, moving a little faster after the pair. I didn't see him when I entered, either. I have a very bad feeling about what I might find upstairs.
"In here," Balgruuf said, slipping into a room with a map table, Irileth closing the door behind Vilkas and Serana.
Vilkas glanced at Serana, noting the frown on her face with a small touch of relief. She doesn't like things around here either.
"First things first. Is Madanach a danger to my Hold?" Balgruuf demanded.
"I do not believe so, Jarl," he responded. "He is content to make his plans for trade with Cyrodiil and his other neighbors." He's too busy to think of expanding. He needs to make sure that neither Legion nor Stormcloak will try to run over his Hold.
"You don't believe so? Or he won't? It's a distinction that must be made," he snapped, eyes gleaming, the agitation thickening in his scent.
Very abnormal.
"It would be foolish of me to respond in a manner that suggests I could read his mind," he countered. How far can I push him while he's like this? I can already tell that I'm playing with fire.
"It would be foolish of him to attempt to attack our Hold," Irileth said quietly. "He is too cunning for that."
"That's true," Balgruuf admitted grudgingly. "Alright. To the most important reason I asked you here. Is it true that vampires are gathering in the Reach?"
Why would it matter to you if there were? "There have been incursions, but I wouldn't call them gatherings," he said. This reeks of meddling. But what is her plan? Is she hoping to join Harkon and his lackeys? Or is she trying to figure out a way to stop them?
A harsh laugh echoed in the room, Balgruuf and Irileth looking toward an inward door, yearning in both their scents that had Vilkas curling his lip slightly. Blatantly obvious that they've been enthralled. His wolf rumbled in his chest, and he gritted his teeth, half turning toward the direction of the laugh.
A lithe Dunmer vampire stood in the doorway, dressed in long black and red robes, her black hair bound back from her face, emphasizing the Daedric script in shimmering gold and black ink that trailed down her face and throat, disappearing into her robes. Surreptitiously, Vilkas memorized what he could see of it, certain he'd be able to translate it if given half the chance.
"Darling Serana, it has been far too long since I've seen you. You didn't spend nearly enough time in the Keep after waking up."
Pulling away from the door when Serana didn't respond, she approached Irileth, brushing her fingers along her cheek, lifting her chin. "You did so well in bringing me someone who knows something," she purred. "I'll reward you soon."
"Thank you, mistress," Irileth responded.
Vilkas shuddered, trying to school the disgust off his face. Too unlike herself. What is it about the enthrallment that forces them to cling to the vampire's every word like this?
"Volisea," Serana said.
"Oh, what's that tone for?" she asked, moving around the table toward them. "Oh, you brought a little wolf as protection? How sweet."
He grimaced, biting back hard on a snarl, flicking his attention to Balgruuf and Irileth. How protective of her are you? Would you respond violently if I started something?
Agitation flared in Serana's scent, and he clung to it, trying to ignore the implied thrall in Volisea's words, shaking off the discomfort and memories.
"Why are you in Whiterun?" Serana demanded.
"Why, because of you, of course." She shook her head, moving to Balgruuf's side, running her fingers through his hair, adjusting his circlet. "I must be certain that your father has no avenue of fulfilling his idiotic prophecy."
"What do you mean?"
She shook her head, perching on the map table. "Oh, how like your father you are. So impossibly dense. Valerica only has one soft spot, Serana, and that's you."
"Could have fooled me," she snapped, the agitation doubling in her scent, rage undercutting it.
"She left you alive, didn't she? If she had been anywhere as ruthless as she should have been, she would have killed you instead of leaving you somewhere your father could find you." she tilted her head. "Don't tell me you're holding the internment against her. Foolish child."
"Why didn't you leave when you realized I wasn't here?"
"Ah, well, that's Nedol's fault of course. He was quite willing to inform me of his plans to protect your mother by offering a new Daughter to our Prince. Fool should have known better. Without ensuring that the ritual takes place on His summoning day, the chances of failure are so much higher. But that's Nords for you. Too short-sighted for their own good."
Vilkas shifted his weight, forcing himself not to reach for his blade yet. She's talking about Vitene. Is she a current threat to her?
"Have you forgotten that Valerica is also a Nord?" Serana demanded.
"Of course not," she snapped. "But she is merely an exception to prove the rule. And considering how pathetic a blind spot she has in you; I sometimes question how much of an exception she is."
"You may be right," she said, "After all, she turned you."
Vilkas couldn't bite back a smirk, watching Volisea scowl as she slipped off the table. Struck a nerve, didn't she?
"That is irrelevant. What is important at the moment, is that Valerica is in an impossible to reach location. The mortal that was marked by that idiot Nedol is under the protection of Hircine of all Princes." She scoffed, shaking her head, striding toward the other side of the room. "Someday, she may regret that choice. When her infant is grown and gets the beast blood." She turned back, eyeing Vilkas. "Perhaps she will rip her apart. Fitting end for one who would turn to that bestial being."
Gritting his teeth to hold back a growl, Vilkas shifted his weight, his wolf agitating in his chest, snarling and chafing at his hold.
To his surprise, Serana laughed, the sound echoing through the room, a strange undercurrent of relief in her scent. "If you're so certain of the mortal's unsuitability for the ritual, then I'm certain you already severed any remaining magic that could activate her tattoos? Anything to undermine Nedol."
"Moments like this I am reminded that you are indeed Valerica's child. A pity." She shook her head. "It is, of course, only logical that I should undermine Nedol by souring his chances of creating a new Daughter." She tapped a finger against her chin. "Still, it should not have been that difficult to gain access to this mortal. Even with Hircine's protection. But she has somehow surrounded herself by people that are more difficult to charm than these two proved to be."
"For all that you and my father scoff at them, werewolves tend to be harder to enthrall than most."
"Perhaps. But I am certain I was only stymied because I was attempting to rush." Tossing her head, she moved back to Irileth's side.
She finds it impossible to stand still. Which may suggest she rushes often. That could be useful.
"I'm almost surprised you left the mortal alive," she said flatly, the agitation back in her scent. "That seems odd considering the earlier tenor of our conversation."
Volisea smiled, fangs gleaming. "Ah, but as long as the mortal lives, Nedol will have false hope that he'll be able to one day re-activate the magic within her tattoos. He'll attempt retaliation when he realizes, of course. I look forward to it."
"And you didn't twist the magic to your end because...?"
"I do not like pregnant people," she said, crossing her arms. "Did your internment suppress your memories?"
"Not at all."
Vilkas could smell Serana's relief, mulling it over. Volisea sounds, and smells, like she's being honest about this. Like she did weaken the tattoos Vitene has. But why is she being so open about this with Serana?
Resting her hand on Irileth’s shoulder, she turned, smiling at Serana. "Now all that's left is to tie up another loose end. It is a pity, but we cannot risk Harkon bringing the prophecy about."
His wolf snarled in his chest, and Vilkas drew his sword.
"Oh, what could you do, dog?" Volisea laughed, looking at Serana. "You leave your thralls with too much autonomy, my dear."
"You're one to talk," Serana spat, the word thrall closing around Vilkas' throat like a vice, sinking him further into rage.
"Take care of them, darling," she cooed, stepping away from Irileth.
"Wait!" Serana demanded. "Why enthrall these two?"
Irileth leaped forward, Vilkas moving to block her strike, glancing swiftly to see Balgruuf's attention on Volisea. I can't kill her, but she has no qualms about doing the same to me.
"To funnel money to the Dawnguard of course. I'm certain they'll fail to actually kill your father. But they should bleed him. And if they can kill Nedol or Vingalmo in the process, that will give me quite an easy path to kill him myself."
Vilkas twisted, blocking a strike, just dodging a fire spell, grimacing when it caught a curtain alight.
"You could ally with the Dawnguard instead of this."
"As if I would stoop to working with mortals," she responded, tapping Balgruuf's arm. "Go help your Housecarl, and come find me after. You know where I'll be."
Irileth pressed her next attack, running fire along her sword.
Vilkas grimaced, unable to disengage before Balgruuf's blade bit into his shoulder.
"Damnit," Serana hissed, moving to his side, blocking another side blow from Balgruuf.
"Can you take care of the fire?" Vilkas demanded, pushing Irileth back again, trying to glance for Volisea.
"I could, or I could try and untether these two from Volisea before they kill you," she shot back.
He grunted, armor heating uncomfortably from a fresh spell from Irileth. "We can't kill them," he snarled, wolf agitating, pain radiating from his shoulder.
"I know that!"
His grip on his wolf weakened, and he firmed his stance, pushing back. Now is not the right place to shift.
The barest flicker of movement warned him before Irileth came in with a feint, her dagger skidding along his breastplate when he parried her blade and stepped in.
A hissing sound behind them drew a flicker of Irileth's attention, and he stepped in, pressing her back, biting back on a yelp of pain when the flames on her blade seared his cheek.
She pulled suddenly back, leaping onto the table, throwing her dagger, a yelp of pain behind Vilkas, the bright scent of fresh blood.
He bolted toward her, focused on disarming her remaining weapon, when a green tinged spell washed over her, and she collapsed.
Turning his attention to Balgruuf, he found Serana stepping away from him, turning toward the curtain.
Celann gave him a crooked smile as he sank to the ground, his face pale. "That's two for me," he said, leaning his head back.
Vilkas bolted to his side, Serana with him. "Poison," he grumbled, resting his fingers against Celann's pulse point. "What are you doing here?"
"It was taking too long," he said. "We were starting to worry over you, and I decided to come check what was happening."
"Vilkas, we need a cure poison potion now," Serana ordered, prodding near the blade. "Hold still or you're going to make it work faster."
"I know how it works," he said. "What about those two?"
"Spell should keep them down for at least an hour. I don't know if that will give me time to sever them or not. But we can restrain them."
If I leave and Volisea comes back… Cursing when Celann coughed, he rose, bolting for the door, slipping out and closing the door behind him, noting the lack of guards with unease, dashing down the stairs to Farengar’s office.
Farengar was simmering something on his alchemy table, humming merrily, and rage bubbled in Vilkas' throat, his wolf snarling. Some Court Wizard you are. Didn't even notice that Balgruuf and Irileth had been enthralled.
"Farengar," he snapped. "I need a cure poison potion, now."
He startled, just managing not to drop what he was working on, giving him a disdainful look before sighing and moving to rummage along a shelf.
"No respect for my time," he grumbled, a half protest dying on his tongue when he took a closer look at him. "Shor's bones, what happened?"
"No time," he snapped, snatching the bottle and dashing back up the stairs.
"Any sign of Volisea?" he asked, kneeling by Celann and uncorking the bottle.
"Nothing," Serana responded. "I admit, I wasn't expecting her candour."
"She assumed we'd be dead before we could tell anyone about her," he growled, bracing Celann's head, pouring the potion into his mouth. "Isran is going to go on a rampage if you die, you know."
"Won't be as impressive as Farkas," he said, giving him a wan smile. "Still. We have got to stop meeting over the victims of Valerica's acolytes."
"Pardon?" Serana asked.
Vilkas shook his head, glancing toward the door when it opened, not too surprised to see Farengar there.
He stared, going very pale when he spotted who was lying still.
"Close the door," Vilkas ordered. "Then see if you can help Serana with these two." He glanced at Serana. "Can you make sure he wasn't enthralled too?"
"Enthralled?" Farengar spluttered. "What do you mean?"
Serana turned, frowning at him. "Court Wizard. Right?"
"Right," Vilkas muttered, scowling when Celann's eyes closed.
"She wouldn't have enthralled him. I could double check but…," she glanced at Celann, turning her full attention to Farengar. "Do you have any healing spells?" she demanded.
"I…," he hesitated. "I am not particularly, we usually call on Danica," he floundered.
"Then sprint to Jorrvaskr and ask for Lewin," Vilkas ordered, "and then go to the temple and get Danica and Erandur. Makes sure to get both of them. And then you stay there." Volisea will realize you know about her, and you are no longer safe here.
"Should've when Hrongar disappeared," he mumbled, stumbling out of the room.
Vilkas stared at the door, watching it close when Serana flashed over to it, looking up at her. "Hrongar is the Jarl's brother. If he's vanished…,"
"He's probably dead," she said. "And I would be very surprised if he's the only one. Volisea was never one to care if she drained any of the… mortals at the castle."
Vilkas nodded, turning his attention back to Celann. "If you're going to try and sever Balgruuf and Irileth, start with Irileth. She's the greater threat."
"Noted."
Drawing one of Celann's knives, Vilkas cut a long strip from the singed curtain, wrapping it around his thigh above the dagger, not tying it tightly yet, examining the area around the blade carefully, prodding gently. The dagger might be the only reason he's not bleeding out. And he's still breathing so hopefully the potion is doing enough.
Frowning, he tugged Celann's cloak tighter around him.
"What did Celann mean about you two meeting over acolyte victims?" Serana asked, her voice slightly strained.
He glanced that way to see she was pouring magic into Irileth. Needs a distraction. Got it. "Found a Vigilant harassing a young werewolf and objected. He was faster than I expected but Celann stepped in, distracting him with questions over an attack on some Dunmer refugees. The Vigilant, Nedol, claimed he was looking for a Vaermina worshiper named Erandur."
"Nedol," she grumbled. "That doesn't surprise me. I've seen him in Vigilant gear before."
"Of course, neither of us realized he was a vampire at the time," he said. "If we had…," he sighed, rocking back on his heels. "A lot of things never would have happened."
"Nothing you can do about it now."
"I know," he murmured. But would the Silver Hand have managed to get their hooks into the Vigilants if we'd realized? Would Vitene have ever been harmed? So many things that could have gone differently. "Celann seems to be stable. The severing?"
"Is difficult. Damn Telvanni."
"Lewin may be able to give you a hand when he gets here," he said, moving to sit by Celann.
"He's going to have comments about your face."
Reaching a hand up, he brushed it against the burns. "It'll heal soon," he said. "It's already hurting less."
She glanced at him, "he'll still have comments."
Crossing his arms, he leaned into the wall. "True enough."