My Random Skyrim Stories

Noticed (7) Awake

Vilkas was encouraged by how well the healing potion appeared to work when he poured it into the wounds in her leg. The leg was still purple and swollen, and likely shouldn't bear weight, but he at least got it set straight and bound. He propped her leg up on the rolled bear pelt and wrapped her in the furs and the blanket from his own bedroll.

Then he set to making dinner.

Once he got the cook-pot set to just boil, he sat back down beside her. Even more color had come back to her face now... her lips had gone back to the proper rosy pink color instead of the pale blue... he gently brushed away some strands of her hair that had fallen out of her braid, then ran his fingers gently along her cheek. She felt warmer now too...

Her brow furrowed, then suddenly her face contorted with pain.

"Hold on, Inga," he said quickly jumping up to grab another healing potion.

But this time as he returned to her side, her eyes blinked open.

"Here you go," he said gently as he helped her sit up.

She looked a bit disoriented but took the potion and drank it on her own. She closed her eyes for a moment and took several slow deep breaths as the potion took effect. Vilkas kept his arm supportively around her and she leaned against him. By Ysmir, he liked holding her...

"Glad to see you're awake," he said with a gentle smile.

She tensed a little at the sound of his voice and blinked up at him in confusion. "Vilkas?"

"Aye?" His smile fell a bit at her reaction.

She sat up more on her own, looking around, trying to get her bearings. Vilkas let his arm drop, trying not to feel disappointed about it.

"We're still in the same valley we fought the dragons," he supplied quietly, "I tended to your leg and set up camp."

"Oh," she nodded, slowly looking up at the dragon bones above them. She looked surprised at the large, makeshift tent he'd built.

"I've also stewed those pheasants you shot this morning," he added getting up and going back to the cook pot.

He wasn't sure if it was wishful thinking, but he at least let himself imagine he could feel her watching him as he got their bowls and spooned out some of the broth and meat.

"I was a little too preoccupied to do much with seasonings," he apologized, turning back to her with a bowl in each hand, "but it's got salt and garlic at least."

He turned back around to find her looking down at the amulet of Mara around her neck with her brow furrowed in confusion. Vilkas's pulse quickened a little nervously as he realized she looked almost angry.

"I thought it's enchantment might help the healing effects of the potion," he explained quickly as she looked up at him with her brow still furrowed, "forgive me," he added, "I found it when I was looking for your potions. I... I only had your well-being in mind."

"I see," she replied simply after a tense moment.

The confusion left her face but the furrowed brow remained... she looked irritated now... then she shifted slightly, reaching under the furs for something, then she froze, her eyes widened and Vilkas saw her cheeks turn a shade darker.

"Where the fuck are my pants?" She demanded in a low, dangerous tone.

"Here, just over here," Vilkas answered quickly. He set the bowls down and grabbed her pants from where he'd set them beside her armor. "I thought you'd prefer I didn't cut them up to get to your leg... especially since I may need to carry you into the nearest city for a healer..."

She took the pants with a scowl, but then winced as she tried to move. She pulled back the furs to see what state she was in and her face grew even more red as she quickly threw one of the furs back across her lap to hide her small cloths.

"Inga," Vilkas began cautiously watching her angry expression, "I only sought to treat your injuries as best I could. Please believe I would never take advantage," he said earnestly.

She blinked and turned her face back to him at that. Her anger faded, but she still looked embarrassed. She swallowed uncomfortably, then shook her head.

"No, I know... of course you wouldn't," she said quietly, "I trust you... you wouldn't touch me," she sighed looking back to her bandaged leg.

"Aye," Vilkas nodded in relief, "not without your permission," he added softly.

Inga's eyes snapped back to his at that, looking surprised and uncertain. Vilkas held her gaze intently... his heart began to speed up as he debated whether or not he should say more or if he'd just said too much...

Was that hope or disbelief in her eyes now?

But before he could decide what else to say, her eyes fell and she turned her attention back to her bandaged leg with a small sigh.

"Thank you, Vilkas," she said quietly at last.

"Of course, Inga," he smiled gently at her instead.

Then he picked her bowl of stew back up, "now come on," he said as he handed her the bowl, "it might not be the best, but food will do you good."

He decided he'd tell her more once she recovered a little more.