2 Sibling Rivalry

¤Four Years Later¤

4E

Year 182

Second Seed

Jorrvaskr

"That's disgusting."

The tall, burly teenaged boy remarked casually as he watched Lŷke reach up inside of the rabbit and remove its heart. There was a bloody pile of offal beside her as she crouched on the stone-paved training area behind the Companion's meadhall and dressed her bunch of rabbits.

"You don't have to watch Vilkas." The ten year old girl replied with a twinge of annoyance, blowing a strand of hair out of her face and glaring up at him.

He crossed his arms, looking a lot like Jergen in the process. He'd even begun to wear the same dark war paint around his eyes.

"You shouldn't be doing that in the middle of the training yard." Vilkas intoned, "Father has told you a million times-"

"You counted?" Vilkas' identical twin ambled up to them now, his hair messy and clumped together, whereas Vilkas had brushed his back neatly and run a combed covered in bear grease through it to keep it in place. They may have looked alike, but they couldn't have been more different. Farkas was the quieter, kinderhearted of the two and not altogether book smart; while Vilkas was hotheaded, quick to a fight and mentally sharp as Skyforge steel.

"Of course not ice-brain." Vilkas retorted, "I was exaggerating to make a point."

Lŷke grinned at Farkas and rolled her eyes, "That point that he hasn't quite gotten around to. Yes."

Vilkas huffed, "I want to practice with my claymore and you're in my way."

Lŷke rolled her eyes and carefully ran a string through the rabbit carcass, connecting to the rest of the brace she had shot that morning with Aela.

"You're such a baby Vilka. " she employed his pet name with a wolfish grin and Vilkas scowled.

"If you don't move I'll make you move."

"I look forward to it."

Vilkas growled and tossed his precious claymore in the ground, rolling up his sleeves and taking a fighting stance.

Farkas stepped onto the covered veranda looking mildly uncomfortable, "Guys... Maybe you shouldn't- "

Lŷke waved him off, slinging her rabbits over a post and copying Vilkas' motions, her fists covered in blood.

"You can have first punch brother, since you're such a baby."

She flung the taunt at him in a singsong voice and then dodged Vilkas's powerful blow, giggling.

Her laughter enraged Vilkas further and as she landed a jab to his jaw he body slammed her to the cobblestones. Lŷke landed with a grunt, the air temporarily knocked from her lungs. She gasped for air, struggling to her feet and throwing a heavy punch straight into Vilkas' nose, the cartilage cracking loudly.

Vilkas roared in anger and undoubtedly pain and dove on top of her, the two of them rolling around on the ground, each struggling to vet back on top. Vilkas punched her repeatedly in the face and chest and she clawed at every visible piece of skin she could reach.

"Enough!"

Jergen's enraged voice split the air and they fell still, Vilkas with a fist poised above Lŷke's face and Lŷke with her nails drugs into his forearms. They both looked over at Jergen with wide eyes, covered cuts and bruises and rising welts.

Jergen scowled at them, his hands on his hips as he shook his head in disapproval. Behind him Farkas stood looking sheepish and Aela was grinning.

"I can't believe you two," Their adopted father exclaimed, "Rolling around in the dirt like a couple of worms, and over what? Use of the training yard?"

Neither of them responded, they were both breathing hard, with adrenaline rushing their ears. And both were glaring daggers at Farkas, who had obviously gone in to rat on them.

Aela laughed, "Come on Jergen! What do you expect? They see all of us fighting it out, so they're doing the same."

"She's right Papa." Lŷke released Vilkas and wriggle out from underneath him, her clothes and hair disheveled. Her left eye was beginning to swell shut from an errant blow, but she smiled anyways. Determined to charm her way out of trouble. "We didn't mean any harm by it."

Jergen frowned, "Whether you meant any harm by it or not doesn't matter. Vilkas, I was going to take you and your brother on your first job tomorrow, but now you get to stay here, and help Tilma with the chores."

Vilkas made a protesting noise as Lŷke grinned at his misfortune, feeling self satisfied, "But Da!"

"No buts." Jergen replied sternly, turning his gaze to Lŷke. "And since you instigated this whole thing, you'll spend all day tomorrow helping Vilkas help Tilma."

The grin fell from Lŷke's face, "Aela was going to take me hunting tomorrow!"

"Too bad. You're staying here. Now both of you, go inside and have Tilma look you over. Go, now."

Standing side by side, the two of them looked almost as if they were blood. With their dark hair and bright blue eyes, and the wide flat planes of their cheekbones. They wore identical expressions of dismay, both glaring briefly at one another before they hurried past Jergen and up towards the doors.

"Sorry guys..." Farkas whispered as they passed, but neither of them responded. Their black looks fixed on the ground as they pushed into the warm interior of the meadhall.

The smell of mead and delicious food filled the air and a fire burned merrily in the pit that sat in the centre of the bracketed rabble which took up most of the center of the room.

Tilma, an aging woman who served the Companions as a maid and part time medic, was cooking over the firepit. She looked up at the two of them and made a tsking noise.

"Always at each other's throats. Come on over here and I'll fix you up."

Lŷke started towards the woman, but Vilkas balked.

"I don't need your help."

Lŷke grinned, despite the pain it sent flaring through her jaw. He'd really gotten her good.

"You're just afraid of the medicine." She teased, looking back at him. He frowned.

"No I'm not. I just want-"

Lŷke rolled her eyes, "Come on Vilkas, I'm not trying to make fun of you. You need to have your nose looked at, looks like a giant sat on your head."

Vilkas growled in his throat, but a small smile creased his face. "One didn't. But you're as a ugly as one."

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

Tilma sighed, "Hurry up you two. I haven't got all night to listen to your squabbling."

Lŷke gave her brother a lopsided smile and headed over to Tilma to have her war wounds mended.

The next day, Tilma woke the both of them before the sun rose. Lŷke stretched and yawned as she was summoned from her bunk.

Her body was sore from her fight with Vilkas. Her left eye was swollen completely shut, rendering her blind on one side. But her attuned sense of smell made up for her lack of vision. She grinned at herself in the looking glass above her water basin, the visage in the reflection was mottled purple and black. Jergen may have been disappointed in them, but Lŷke was proud of her swollen face. It proved that she had the courage to stand up for herself in combat.

After splashing some cold water on her hot skin, she ran a brush through her hair and hurried out of the backroom she shared with Aela and the other whelps. Vilkas and Farkas shared a private room across from Jergen's in the basement of Jorvaskr, and Skjor and another member of the Circle named Arnbjorn occupied the last two.

Everyone but Tilma, Jergen and her brothers were asleep. As she entered the corridor she ran into her father's blocky chest, and then reeled backwards.

"Good morning little cub." Jergen smiled at her with a sigh, taking in the damage to his face.

"Morning Papa."

He shook his head, "You took quite the thrashing Lŷke."

"But I gave one too." She grinned and Jergen sighed, chucking her under the chin.

"Aye lass. You broke Vilkas's nose pretty well. Strong as a bear, you are."

Lŷke laughed delightedly and hugged Jergen quickly as Vilkas and Farkas ambled towards them, twin expressions of sleepiness on their faces. In this state it was almost difficult to tell them apart, if it wrest for Vilkas' bruised face and grotesquely crooked nose.

"Morning lads, ready to start your day?"

Farkas smiled and nodded rapidly, but his brother seemed less enthusiastic.

"Can I please come Father? Lŷke and I made up."

Jergen smiled, not unsympathetic.

"I know, but your punishment is final."

Vilkas frowned and Jergen clapped him on the shoulder.

"Don't worry. Your time will come, for now though, bear your punishment with dignity. I've told Tilma that you two only have to work with her until sunhigh. Then you two are free to do whatever you feel like."

Vilkas still looked dejected, but Lŷke elbowed him gently.

"Thank you father. When will you and Farkas be home?"

Jergen smiled at her, "In a couple of days. We're just going to deal with some bandits who've set up an operation in the Rift. Shouldn't give us too much trouble."

Farkas came up to them then, dressed in a plain steel cuirass with fur padding. His broadsword was slung across his back and he looked excited.

"When are we leaving Da?"

"In a few moments son, I've got to speak with Kodlak before we go. You and your siblings go up and have breakfast."

The three of them clumped up the stairs and into the banquet room, heading for the table that was already covered in scrumptious smelling food.

Filling her plate with meat and bread, Lŷke listened in interest to Farkas as he told her about a dream he had that evening.

He'd been fighting a huge, spectral ghost that was bigger than he was and that seemed invisible. He seemed almost afraid of this dream wolf, but then he smiled at Lŷke.

"You helped me kill it though."

Vilkas snorted, sounding disgusted.

"That's a stupid dream. Do you have a crush on her or something?"

Farkas blinked, rubbing the back of his head and frowning at his brother's hostility.

"Of course I don't. She's my sister... that would be gross."

Vilkas rolled his eyes, "No, because we aren't actually related, skeever-brain."

Lŷke scowled at his blatantly rude remarks, standing up and glaring at him,

"Why're you acting like this? Farkas hasn't done anything wrong."

The boy returned her glare, "Yeah? Well I'm not mad at Farkas. I'm mad at you. If you'd just let me train-"

Lŷke scoffed in disbelief , her cheeks heating up.

"You're a selfish little pile of horker dung."

"Yeah? Well you're as much an ice-brain as Farkas!"

The girl prepared another retort but refrained, hearing Arnbjorn's heavy footfall on the stairwell. The last thing she wanted was to make Jergen change his mind about letting them off their chores early.

The burly blonde man ambled towards them grinning, he'd obviously overheard their argument.

"Already at each other are ya?"

He dropped Lŷke a wink and took his seat, shaking his head in amusement. All of the members of the Circle knew of her beastblood, blood they shared with her.

Being moonborn made Skjor and Arnbjorn more inclined to friendliness towards her.

"I'm going downstairs." Lŷke snapped.

"Good, I'm tired of seeing your ugly face anyways."

Lŷke growled in her throat and turned on her heel, stalking down the stairs and into Jorvaskr's living quarters, intent on speaking with Jergen.

The doors to Kodak's chambers were shut, and she could hear them speaking quietly inside. She paused at the door, her fist poised to knock when she heard her name,mentioned.

"I don't know what to do Kodlak. I don't know if Lŷke will just turn in the middle of a feast, or get into another argument with Vilkas and turn then. What should I do?"

The Harbinger was quiet for a moment, and Lŷke crouched down outside the door, aware that eavesdropping was wrong but still intrigued by their conversation.

"You brought this on yourself. But you needn't worry Jergen, we can handle whatever comes, when it comes. You've brought this matter to my attention many times, but no matter how much we talk about it will not change facts."

Jergen sighed, sounding resigned.

"Aye... I've made many mistakes. But Lŷke is smart, and strong. She's more than fit to be a Companion."

"And she will be one, when she proves herself worthy. Don't worry about the future old friend, it can take care of itself."

Thoroughly confused by this exchange, Lŷke hurried off down the corridor, to find Tilma.

But she was perplexed by what she had heard.

Was Jergen afraid of her? The thought was crushing, and she resolved to never give in to the call of the blood, for the sake of her adoptive father.

-----------

"Lŷke?"

It was the day after Jergen and Farkas had left, and Lŷke's and Vilkas hadn't spoken since their argument the day before.

Now Vilkas was peering through the doorway of the whelp's quarters, looking chagrined. She'd heard him creeping down the hall, but she ignored him in favour of the book she was a reading, Darkest Darkness. A volume on Daedra, though she was particularly interested in Sheogorath, and the Daedra Jyggalag. The two were opposites but the same and this intrigued her.

Lŷke glanced up at Vilkas,

"Why'd you want to talk to an 'ice-brain' like me?"

Vilkas grimaced, "I didn't mean that Lŷke. I was just upset..."

Lŷke set her book on her lap and sighed in exaggerated annoyance, though in truth his remorse was sweet.

"And now you're bored. And lonely 'cause Farkas is gone?"

Vilkas shrugged and nodded, "Yeah..."

Lŷke grinned, "Well, lucky for you I'm bored and lonely too. Its weird how everything seems so quiet without Farkas here."

"I know.... I wonder what's doing right now."

"Oh you know. Saving people, Hunting things..." Lŷke gave him a lopsided grin and he laughed,

"The family business?" Vilkas sighed, looking wistful, "I wish I'd been allowed to go. I was really looking forwards to my first job."

"Well, if ya think about it, this wasn't your first job. And what about me? I've still got three years at least, before Papa lets me go on a job. Until then you guys will be going off and leaving me with the whelps."

"I never thought of that... But you're a whelp too though."

He laughed as she chucked a book at him, the article glancing off of his green linen clad shoulder and thumping to the floor.

"Want to go into the market and see if Jon and Olfina are there?"

Lŷke nodded eagerly, standing up and brushing the wrinkles out of her deep blue tunic.

"Sure! Let me find my boots..."

"Hurry up, I'll meet you at the front door."

Thirty minutes later, the two of them were munching on sweetrolls and gawking at the shiny jeweled necklaces that Eorland Greymane had crafted and that his wife was selling.

As they window shopped, burly, blonde twenty year old Idolaf Battle-Born came strutting past, leering at Eorland's wife as he went.

Lŷke narrowed her eyes at this and spoke to Vilkas in a low tone, while they were walking away from the market stall.

"Why is he acting like that?"

Vilkas glanced up from his task of dissecting his sweetroll and shrugged,

"The Greymanes and Battle-Borns started a blood feud a week ago. Has something to do with politics."

"But why would he be disrespectful like that? It's uncalled for!" Lŷke was outraged, Eorland and his wife were practically family.

Vilkas shrugged again, stuffing his mouth full of sweetroll dough so that his cheeks bulged out. A minute later he swallowed and spoke,

"I dunno, but if steps out of line Avelstein'll put him back in his place."

Avelstein and Thorald were Eorland's sons.

"I'll teach him a lesson." Lŷke responded adamantly and Vilkas burst into laughter. Lŷke glared at him and he subsided, still grinning.

"Lŷke, he's like three times your size."

She shrugged, "And I could use that to my advantage. Arnbjorn showed me how to take down big men"

Vilkas rolled his eyes, "C'mon you dolt. Lets go and find Jon, I'll bet he and Olfina aren't part of this stupid feud."

They wandered the city street a, heading up through the three districts to Dragonsreach, and the little place behind it where town kids hung out, drinking elicited Balmora Blue and smoking nirnroot in handmade pipes.

Sure enough, Jon and Olfina were there, lounging on the grass and talking on quiet tones. The two of them were a year older than Vilkas, and had been sweet on one another since Lŷke had arrived in Whiterun.

As the Companion whelps approached, the lovebirds looked up and waved them over.

"Hi" Olfina greeted them, breathlessly.

"How goes it?" Vilkas replied and they both responded that it went well. The two of them didn't ask about his and her battered faces, they were quite used to seeing the two in such a state.

Lŷke was curious about Olfina though. Her cheeks were flushed pink and her long white blonde braid was in disarray, the both of them looked as if they'd been rolling in the grass.

But before Lŷke could inquire about this, Idolaf Battle-Born came storming towards them from the opposite side of Dragonsreach.

He made a triumphant sound as he came across them, his eyes narrowed spitefully.

"Get up Jon. Father told me to give you a thrashing if I caught you with this wench. And I plan on doing just that."

Jon jumped to his feet, looking like a frightened rabbit and putting his palms up in a placating gesture. Idolf swung a ham-sized fist at his brother and connected with his jaw, sending the wiry boy flying.

Lŷke gasped as she watched this turn of events, aware of Vilkas whispering for her to stay out of it.

Olfina crawled over to Jon and made a concerned noise. Idolf growled in his throat,

"Get away from him you bitch."

His steel booted foot struck Olfina in the thigh and she cried out and grabbed her leg.

Lŷke couldn't watch any longer, she stepped forwards and gritted her teeth in anger, her hands balled into fists at her sides.

"Hey! You big, stupid, ass! Leave them alone!"

Idolf turned and sneered at her,

"Or what? You'll go home and cry to your mommy? Get out of here you milk drinker."

Lŷke's blood boiled the taunt and she narrowed her eyes,

"No. Leave them alone or I'll break your ugly face."

Idolaf laughed maliciously and stared down at her with narrowed eyes,

"Yeah right. You're barely potty trained-"

Not giving him any time to finish his insult, she cleared the distance between them, and drove the toe of her shiny steel boot into the man's groin.

He screamed like a girl and crumpled to the ground clutching himself, taking this opportunity, Lŷke made good on her threat, batching her foot into the man's nose and eliciting another scream.

"Go home. Milk drinker."

She snapped the words and then walked back over to where Vilkas stood, staring at her in shock.

"That's what Arnbjorn taught you?"

Lŷke grinned, her cheeks burning, "Aye. He said that the fork of a man's legs is his weakest part."

"By the Nine. Lŷke, you can't go around attacking the thane's children."

Lŷke rolled her eyes, "He deserved it. He attacked Jon, and Olfina. And he called me a milk drinker. You were here, you heard it."

Vilkas sighed, "You could've gotten yourself killed."

Jon and Olfina approached them now, glancing at Idolf's inert form in shock.

"I can't believe you actually did it." Olfina said, her dark brown eyes glistening with pain, and Jon shook his head.

"That ought to knock him down a peg. Getting beaten by a little girl..."

"To be fair, she is a Companion whelp." Vilkas grinned, and shook his head. "You're crazy Lŷke."

"Thank you. I bet Idolf won't be bothering us anymore." Olfina smiled and then turned to kiss Jon full on the mouth.

Lŷke watched this in shock. She'd never seen anyone kiss before, and she was disgusted but intrigued by the act.

"Are you two going to get married?"

The question sent both of them blushing and Olfina smiled at Jon.

"We're a little young for that. But who knows..."

On the ground, Idolaf groaned, his eyelids fluttering.

"We'd better go." Jon eyed his brother nervously, "I would rather not be here when he wakes up."

"See you guys later." Vilkas replied and the four of them set off in opposite directions.

"Hopefully he doesn't go to the guard about you." Vilkas said as they walked again towards the marketplace, passing the shrine to Talos and the massive, gloomy Gildergreen.

"He wouldn't. If he did they'd laugh at him for getting whipped by a girl." Lŷke was feeling giddy after the confrontation, but Vilkas seemed concerned.

"Lŷke, you can't just get into fights like that. One day you'll get yourself killed."

He was beginning to sound like Jergen and Lŷke sighed.

"C'mon Vilkas, I couldn't just let him abuse Jon and Olfina like that."

Vilkas sighed, "Fine... you're right." He nudged her and grinned, "You should have seen his eyes when you kicked him in the bits. They crossed and then rolled backwards."

He crossed his own eyes and feigned falling backwards and the two of them burst into laughter, stumbling slightly on the stairs and nearly running into a pair of grimy warriors.

"What's so funny?"

Lŷke grinned and rushed to hug Jergen, who embraced her and smiled down at them quizzically.

Vilkas shrugged, "Just something Jon said..."

Jergen rolled his eyes, "Well, if you don't want to tell me that's fine. I'm going up to get some drink and some sleep. We rode hard today." He walked past them and ruffled their hair fondly as he went.

Farkas stayed behind, looking at them questioningly.

"What's so funny?"

Vilkas recounted the tale with exaggerated gestures, making the tired boy laugh and shake his head.

"You did good Lŷke. Father would approve."

Lŷke shrugged, feeling proud of herself.

"Tell us about the job." She insisted, poking one of the dents in his armour. He was covered in dirt and there was a shallow cut across his eybrow.

He shrugged,

"The ride was boring, but the Rift was amazing, there were trees everywhere and Lake Honrich was huge!"

The two of them followed Farkas up the stairs, listening to him tell his story in his usual bland way. He got excited at the part where he had fought the bandits, demonstrating a sword technique that he'd employed to cut a man's head off.

"Like a knife through butter."

By the time they reached Jorvaskr, it was dark and a chilly wind was being driven across the plains.

"I'm glad you two are done fighting," Farkas remarked. "It was annoying."

Vilkas shrugged, and glanced over at Lŷke with a grin. "Fighting? Me and Lŷke? You're crazy brother."

Lŷke giggled but Farkas looked puzzled, he shrugged, "I'm going to get some sleep. Pretty tired..."

Vilkas embraced him, "Goodnight brother. I'm glad you're home safe."

"And I'm glad Lŷke protected you from the big bad Battle-Born."

It was Farkas's turn to grin and Vilkas turned red.

"Ice-brain."

"Oaf."

Farkas laughed and Lŷke gave him a quick hug.

"G'night Farkas. See ya in the morning."

The boy ambled inside and Lŷke yawned.

"You tired?" Vilkas asked, his tone taunting.

Lŷke narrowed her eyes, "Not too tired to knock your top off in the training yard."

"Was that a challenge?"

Lŷke raised her eyebrows and scoffed, "Fighting with you is never a challenge."

"Meet in the training yard in fifteen minutes?"

Lŷke nodded, "You're on... milk drinker."

They glowered at one another for a moment and then raced into the building.

-