The Blood Of The Wolf

Chapter Thirteen

        Vilkas shuffled awkwardly on his feet while he waited outside the white hall. He felt uncomfortable in noble cloths. Since he was a child he had worn clunky armor and wolf skin, he felt naked without them. He felt even more bare without the warpaint around his eyes but Maris would certainly disapprove of that if he'd have worn it. The road leading towards the docks was lit with lanterns and ships came into dock, holding dignitaries from other parts of Tamriel. He knew that Maris was suppose to be a thane but parties and nobles didn't fit her well. He had always known her as the person looking out from the shadows, not the centre of the ball room. She was a complex person but he couldn't imagine a side of her like that. 

"Well, don't you clean up nicely... for a mutt..." Came a soft voice from behind him. He spun on his heals. He handn't even heard her approach. He looked upon Maris, who stood bathed in the deep yellow glow of the lanterns. Her blue eyes shimmered in the light and her skin seemed almost completely white. She wore a long, silken evening dress that flowed elegantly behind her. It was the same deep red as Vilkas' own outfit and the same intricate golden trim. She looked almost like another person. Her white hair was plated back out of her face and her fringe  held back by a ruby circlet. She smirked as she looked upon him. Vilkas couldn'd the words to speak, he stood his eyes wide and his jaw hanging. This... wasn't Maris... This couldn't be Maris. Her lips had been reddened and it made her look all the paler.

"I take your silence as a compliment." She said. 

"I... I just wan't expecting... this..." He muttered, mentally shaking himself out of the stare. 

Maris giggled slightly. Vilkas felt his heart beat against his chest. It was always the same when she laughed. He had to stop thinking that way before it was too late. Suddenly, a young girl stepped out from behind Maris, wearing a similar styled and coloured dress. 

Vilkas' attention snapped away from Maris and to the child. "Wait... That's the girl that was planning to kill me!" He exclaimed.

Maris put her hands on Babette's shoulders. "No, she's our daughter." Maris smiled shyly.

"Why are you going to this extent anyway!" Vilkas growled.

"I have to be believable." Maris shrugged. Vilkas groaned. There she was again, treading around every question!

"So, shall we go inside, my love?" Maris asked, holding out her arm for Vilkas. Part of him felt sick at the thought of having to pretend to be wed to a nightwalker like her but the other half made his chest tighten and his ear tips burn. Embarrassment, it was just embarrassment, that was it... Vilkas took Maris' arm and looked away, cautious of the colour of his cheeks. Babbette looked up at Vilkas and smirked. 

        The main hall of the building was already filled with nobles and well dressed business owners. It was well lit and a multitude of servants and maids were at hand to tend to the needs of the guests. 

Vilkas let out an audible groan of discontent and Maris nudged him sharply in the elbow. 

"At least pretend to be a civilised noble for one night instead of your usual clumsy oafish ways." Maris hissed under her breath.

Vilkas growled in responce. They exchanged cold glances,

"Maris!" Came a call from the crowd of people before them. A young wood elf emerged from the crowd, a wide smile on her face.

"Claria!" Maris exclaimed, standing forward and opening her arms wide. The elf hugged her tightly. 

"Oh Maris! I haven't seen you for such a long time! You haven't visited home since last harvest!" She said.

Maris smiled warmly. "I know, i know, i've hardly the time." She chirped. Her voice was far more sweet and meodic then Vilkas had ever heard but despite it's sickness, seemed genuine. Claria pulled away and looked past her to where Vilkas and Babbette where stood side by side.

"I can see why your visits arn't that often Maris!" Claria exclaimed. "I wondered when i would finally get to meet your family!"

Vilkas raised an eyebrow. Maris turned to them. She brushed a hair from Babbette's face. "This is my daughter!" she smiled. Babbette stood forward and curtsied low. 

"Hello there!" She said innocently, just like when she had first tried to speak to Vilkas. "My name is Babbette and it's very nice to meet you." 

"Aww, how precious!" Claria sighed.

Maris turned to Vilkas and wrapped her arms around his arm, leaning her head against his shoulder. "And this is my Husband, Vilkas." She cooed. Vilkas had to force the sneer not to come to his lips. Instead he smiled weakly. 

"Pleased to make your acquaintance." He said begrudgingly. He had never had to act before. It was certainly an odd feeling and not one that he enjoyed.

"Quite a charming one you have here Maris." The elf smiled. This time it was Maris' turn to bite her tongue. 

"Say, you haven't seen my parents around here any were... have you?" Maris asked.

"I don't think i have, they may not be here from Valenwood just yet." Claria said, putting her finger to her lips in thought. "I hope they make it. Now if you'll excuse me, i have to get back to my friend."

"It has been delightful seeing you again." Maris chirped. She waited untill the elf had disapeared compleatly into the crowd before letting go of Vilkas and smoothing her dress. 

"Great, now i'll smell like mutt for a week!" She hissed.

"A friend of yours blood sucker..." Vilkas growled.

"No, i hate that air headed harlot." Maris huffed.

"Could have fooled me." Vilkas shrugged.

"That is the point of acting." Babbette noted.

Vilkas glared down at the girl, he was already beginning to dislike this child. She was like a younger Maris.

"i'm going to mingle and try to see if anyone has seen your parents." Babbette said.

"Thank you very much." Maris smiled.

        Vilkas took a glass of alto wine and took his place at Maris' side. From the corner of his eye, he could see Maris watching him.

"What?" He asked.

"You just look so strange without war paint..." She said, leaning against the wall. "... Do you remember... when we were beside the lake... and you asked me if i knew why you wore it?" 

"I remeber." Vilkas said bluntly. 

"Why do you wear it? and why would i know that?" She asked.

Vilkas took a sip of wine. "I will tell you if you explain this all to me." He said. 

Maris sighed and folded her arms. "My parents...  aren't the most warm of people... They want me to move back to Valenwood to take over the family household but i don't like Valenwood... It isn't my home, skyrim is. I told them that i couldn't move back because i wouldn't want to uproot my family. But i don't really have a husband or daughter so i needed you so my parents wouldn't get suspicous." She sighed.

"What about that Jester character?" Vilkas asked. "You seemed quite... comfortable with him." 

"Cicero? No, never. He is like a child. Our relationship is more a mother and son's... I really don't do the whole falling in love thing." She said. "So, are you going to tell me about the war paint?"

Vilkas pursed his lips and went to speak but hesited. Did he really want to tell Maris the truth?

"Well... There was a girl i used to know and we were messing around with war paint one day and she grabbed and hand full of it it and smeared It over my eyes. Saying it was like the markings of my wolf." Vilkas said, a slight smile creeping to his lips. "I guess I just kept it that way."

"And how does that apply to me?" Maris asked.

Vilkas brushed the hair from his face. "Well you..."

"Maris!" Came a call from out of Veiw. Suddenly Babbette rushed from the crowd. "Your parents have just arrived!"