Needs of the Wolf: Chapter 1

Beauty. Pure Beauty.
This must be Dibella in her mortal form, Vilkas thought as he stared at the Breton across the way. The girl had long, bright blonde hair that seemed to glisten in the sun, and it matched her pale skin perfectly. Her skin was displayed perfectly because of the knee-length dress robes she was wearing. Normally, Vilkas wasn't distracted by women he saw, and when he was, they were usually strong built, tall, Nordic women. But this girl, she was petite in size, and a good six inches shorter than him.
Before he could notice, the women strode toward him with the fluidity of a dancer. He regained his attentiveness and cleared his throat.
"Excuse me," she said. Her voice was almost child-like, but it held a womanly chime to it. "You look like you live here. Do you know anyone I could get to deliver these to Jorrvaskr?" she held out a knapsack, filled with different potions and bandage items. "I'd go myself, but that place is a little intimidating." Intimidating? Vilkas had never thought of his home like that. Then he realized that she didn't know he was a Companion himself.
"Actually, I…. I live there, so I could just take them myself, if you would like." Vilkas stuttered, tripping over his own words. The woman's eyes widened, and she gasped.
"Oh! You're a Companion, then? Please forgive me for not realizing that. I've only been in Whiterun for a few days now." A pink blush crept up on her cheeks as she attempted to apologize for her ignorance. Vilkas found it adorable that she felt the need to apologize. He chuckled lightly, and the woman seemed confused.
"That's all right, lass. You didn't know." He said, grinning slightly. She exhaled with relief and handed him the knapsack of items. It was much heavier than it looked, and Vilkas struggled to get a good grip on the bag. The woman reached out and helped him adjust the straps to fit on his shoulder.
"Thank you so much. Uncle Farengar said he had received an order of those from a… Vignar Gray-Mane, I think it was?" she said, smiling. Vilkas liked how cheerful she was.
"Aye. I will make sure he gets these." He nodded and turned to leave, but stopped. "Can I… ask your name, lass?" he asked a little nervously.
"Fjotri the Enchantress, at your service." She giggled and curtsied gracefully. "I'm the emissary healer from the College of Winterhold. And you are?"
"Vilkas, warrior of the Companions of Jorrvaskr, glad to meet you." He laughed at Fjotri's lady-like gesture. As she looked up at him again, Vilkas noticed that her eyes were a radiant sapphire-blue that stood out from her skin. She is simply gorgeous, he thought.
"Well, I should be getting the rest of my enchanting reagents, but I do have another favor to ask, if you don't mind." Vilkas couldn't possibly say no to this woman who seemed to mesmerize him so, so he gladly replied.
"Not at all, Fjotri. What is it that you need?"
She seemed hesitant to ask her favor, but sheepishly, she spoke. "If you aren't preoccupied with anything right now, and you wouldn't mind, could you… show me around the city? After you deliver those potions, I mean. I know it sounds stupid, 'why can't I just go myself,' I know, but I…" Vilkas laughed, and Fjotri quirked a brow.
"It just so happens that the other Companions have the jobs handled, so I have free time today anyway. I would love to show you around." He replied. He realized that he wanted to escort her around, and not out of courtesy. He found her intriguing, the way she seemed carefree and relaxed, even when she probably had many things to worry about. And that was aside from the fact that he was highly attracted to her, more than he probably should be.
Fjotri smiled at him, blushing even more than she had been.
"Then I shall give these to Vignar, lass, and meet you back here shortly." Vilkas said.
"Thank you, Vilkas. I'll be here, then."
------------------------------------------------------------------- (Delivers the knapsack, too lazy to write) -----
Vilkas returned to Fjotri, and she seemed happy to be back with him.
"Well, shall I begin the tour of our glorious Whiterun?" he asked. She laughed and walked over to his side.
"Let's go, then." She answered.
The pair walked casually around the plains district, Vilkas naming off stores as he saw them. Fjotri was full of questions about the city, and each answer Vilkas gave led to a whole new set of questions. When they reached the wind district, Vilkas proudly pointed out Jorrvaskr, even though Fjotri knew what it was already.
"How many Companions are there?" she asked, staring at the large building.
"Let's see… there's my brother, Farkas, Aela the Huntress, Torvar, Njada, Ria, and our new Harbinger. We had Skjor and Kodlak Whitemane, our former Harbinger, but they…" pain filled Vilkas's expression, and he swallowed hard. When he had lost them, he had lost family.
Vilkas was startled when Fjotri grabbed his gauntlet-covered hand with both of hers in a supposed attempt at comfort. He looked down at her, unsure of what to say. Thankfully, she smiled at him, giving a surprising assurance to him.
"I'm sorry for your loss," she said, "May the gods watch over them in Sovngarde." Vilkas had never felt so calm before, especially when talking of Skjor and Kodlak. But Fjotri held some strange ability to make him feel… safe.
"Thank you, lass." He muttered, looking into her eyes. She moved a little closer to him and held his gaze. Both of them jumped at the crack of the city gates being thrown open by the guards. Aela came into view, trying to hold Farkas up. Blood had been trailing behind him, and he clutched his side in pain.
"Farkas!!!" Vilkas shouted, running towards his wounded brother. When he reached him, he joined Aela in carrying him to Jorrvaskr. When inside, Vilkas laid Farkas down on the floor, then called out to the housekeeper.
"Tilma! Get the knapsack out of Vignar's study! Quickly!" he shouted. He turned to close the door, but Fjotri dashed in, immediately kneeling down to the wounded brother's side. Vilkas was confused. Earlier, Fjotri had openly expressed that she felt intimidated by Jorrvaskr. But now, she ran in without hesitation.
"Fjotri? What are…" she interrupted him rudely, grabbing the knapsack that Tilma had brought over.
"Vilkas, get the armor off Farkas." She ordered, pulling a roll of bandages out of the bag. Vilkas, confused as he was, removed Farkas's armor, leaving him in only his trousers. He gasped when he saw the large wound in his brother's side, blood running out of it excessively. Fjotri held up her left arm, light beginning to envelop her wrist and hand.
"Arkay, give me strength…" she muttered. Gently, she placed her hand on Farkas's wound, and he cried out in pain. Using the bandages, she began wiping up the blood around the edge of the injury. The light grew stronger, but Fjotri began shaking. Gradually, the wound began closing, and Farkas's breathing slowed. Fjotri allowed the light to die down, and used the remaining bandages to prevent the wound from opening again.
"Someone, help me sit him up," she sounded breathy, and Vilkas worried that something was wrong with her. Aela knelt down and held Farkas by the shoulders, propping him up for Fjotri. She wrapped the cloth around his torso, keeping pressure on the still healing injury. Vilkas was amazed at how fast she managed to heal the severe wound on his brother. Fjotri stood up slowly, wiping her blood-covered hands on her robes.
"He should be fine after rest." She said, turning to face Vilkas. Vilkas was stunned. "He's lost a lot of blood, so you'll need to force him to eat later, even if he refuses."
"Thank you, Fjotri. That was… incredible. I've never seen anyone heal that fast." He looked over at her. He had been staring at his brother, wondering if he knew what was going on. She looked exhausted; her face even paler than it had been before.
"You're… welcome." She murmured, stumbling slightly. "It was…." She collapsed, falling with a thud. Vilkas quickly ran to her side, putting his arm under her neck.
"Fjotri? Are you all right?! Say something…" he choked out.
"Vilkas, she's fine. She's just unconscious. Exhaustion, probably." Aela said, walking over to him. Vilkas noticed the rise and fall of her chest, a sign of her breathing. He sighed in relief.
"Who is this woman, Vilkas?" Aela asked, sitting down in a chair near them. Vilkas knew, then, that Fjotri meant more to him then someone who healed his brother's injuries.
"Mine. She's… mine…" he answered, smiling. Aela knelt down beside him, putting her arm around his shoulders.
"Good for you, shield-brother." She smiled.