Vilkas
There were many challenges to Ylva's constant traveling. The rest of the Companions had to pick up the slack while she was gone. I had to become more than just the children's father. The strain of her absence never failed to weigh on everyone. Worst of all, though, were the questions that the children asked. Their... incessant, repetitive questions.
If this war doesn't end soon, my children will drive me insane.
I loved my children, but there was only so much a man can take. There were only so many questions he could listen to before he snapped.
"Papa, when's Mama coming back?" asked Embla as I led her and her brother through the market by the hand. "I miss her already."
"Little one, she's only been gone a few hours," I said, shaking my head. "Now hush."
"But I really do miss her. Why can't she stay with us?"
"Because she's busy right now."
"She's always busy," said Jergen, lower lip jutting out. "When's she coming back?"
I forced myself to take a deep breath and count to ten. It would not do me any good to yell at the children. It would not be fair to them. Patience is a virtue, I told myself. "I don't know, little ones. She will come back when she can. Probably tomorrow sometime. She won't be gone as long this time, all right? Now will you please stop pestering me with these questions? You're giving your papa gray hair."
Their eyes widened. "Really, Papa?"
"It's just an expression. But please, enough questions."
We walked around Jorrvaskr to the training yard, where the children broke away from me and ran to the wooden weapons rack. They retrieved their wooden swords, Jergen pulling the long stave out of its place, too. "Papa, spar with us!" he said as he struggled to lug the heavy wooden stick to me. "Please!"
I smiled, taking the stave from him. It had been quite some time since Ylva and I had sparred with the children. If I was honest with myself, I had missed the mock fights. Training my children, albeit challenging, kept me on my toes, and it would all be worth it if they became strong warriors someday.
I had no doubt they would grow up to be warriors. It was in their blood.
Standing between them, I raised my stave in a defensive position, swiveling my head to watch as the children circled me. I may have been three times their size, but I had a sinking feeling in my gut that I would be hard-pressed in this fight. They were, after all, twins who did everything together.
It was Embla who struck first, lunging towards my left side. I parried her swing, then jumped backwards to avoid a slash to the knees from Jergen. He laughed as his sister attacked me from behind. Her sword connected with the back of my knees, nearly bringing me down. I managed to keep my feet, despite the pain, and backpedaled away from them.
Gods, this is going to be harder than I thought.
The training yard filled with their giggles as they watched me dance around them like a court jester. I parried and blocked as many of their swings as I could, but there were two of them, and one was always just out of my line of sight. They knew how to disorient and overwhelm.
The one advantage I had in the fight was my stamina. I had been sparring my entire life, and I had built up my endurance through constant training. The children were young, inexperienced, and tended to tire quickly. They had no way of knowing that a smart warrior reserved a portion of his strength at the beginning of any match. They were expending all their energy at once.
Still, they sparred with me for well over half an hour. Only when I locked my stave with their blades did they concede, their swords slipping from their hands and to the ground. I dropped my own stave and scooped them into my arms, chuckling as they wrapped their arms around me and laid their heads on my shoulders.
"You did well, little ones," I said, giving them each a kiss on their sweaty cheeks. "We need to work on your endurance next time, hmm?"
I carried them into Jorrvaskr and down the stairs to the bedrooms. It was just after lunch, and I decided it would do the children good to take a short nap. They were obviously tired from the sparring, anyway. Getting some additional rest certainly would not do them any harm.
After helping them out of their sweaty clothes and into some clean ones, I tucked them in and told them to get a little sleep before the afternoon was over. Before I even left the room, they were sound asleep.
I went back upstairs to clean up the weapons we had left in the training yard. If there was one thing I could not stand, it was leaving weapons lying around. It did not matter if they were made of metal or wood; Jergen always told me to take care of my weapons, to treat them with love, and that lesson stuck with me to this day.
As I was placing my stave back in its proper place, Farkas came peeling around the corner of Jorrvaskr. "Thank the gods you're here, Vilkas," he said, grabbing my arm. "Come with me."
I pulled against him. "What's going on?"
"It's... it's Keskivö, Vilkas. He's here, without Ylva."
It only took a second for his words to sink in, and when they did, I yanked my arm away from him and sprinted towards the gates. I did not care who I had to push and shove out of my way to get there. My mind was on one thing, and one thing only.
Keskivö's here, but Ylva's not.
When I got to the stables, I found several Stormcloaks and Legionnaires trying to contain Kes and three other horses. The ones calming the other horses down were having some success, but no one could get close to Kes.
I raced right into the middle of the group, waving my arms above my head as Kes reared back. "Whoa!" I shouted and made a grab for his bridle when he came back down. "Easy, boy. Easy." I held onto the bridle with a death grip, shushing him as best I could while fighting to keep my arms from being ripped from their sockets.
The other soldiers helped me keep him steady while he calmed down, and once he stopped prancing and rearing his head, I took his reins and circled him a few times, calming him down even more.
"What's going on?" I asked the men as I led Kes into his stall. It was only then that I noticed that he still had his saddlebags attached to him, and Ylva's helm was tied to the outside of the saddle. Her sword was missing, but almost everything else was there.
"I wish I knew, sir," said one Legionnaire. "All's I can tell you is that we saw that creature streaking up the road like Oblivion itself was behind it, and then these other horses were not far behind."
"Someone get the Legate!" shouted another soldier. "She needs to see this!"
"I'm already here," said Marina as she came trotting to a halt at the stables. Her second-in-command, Benor, was right on her heels.
"Marina, what's happened?" I asked, stroking Kes's neck. "Ylva never would've sent Kes back, especially not with all her supplies still on his saddle." I untied the straps holding her helmet to the saddle, tucking it under my arm.
"We'll find out, Vilkas, don't worry," she said to me before she turned to address the soldiers. "Saddle up! We're going to find out what's happened to the General!"
"Yes, ma'am!" said a few of the men while the others just went to work.
"I'm going with you," I said, stepping out of the stall. "I have to go with you."
Marina stopped me by planting her palm right in the center of my chest plate. "No, you're not. You have to stay here. If something happens—"
"That's my wife out there. I can't just stand by and let someone else find her."
"And if something happens to you, your children are left without a mother and a father! Do you want to orphan your children here and now?"
"Quit talking about Ylva like she's...." I choked, but I used a cough to cover up the break in my voice.
"I don't think that's happened, but I have to think of all the possibilities. So, for the sake of your children, stay here."
She had me there. I could not do that to my children. I could not allow them to grow up as I did, parentless and scared. They deserved so much better than that.
Marina removed her hand and turned away from me. One of the soldiers led a horse to her, and she mounted in one smooth motion. "Let us find out what's happened. We shouldn't be gone long."
"And what am I supposed to do while you're looking for my wife?"
"Pray to any Divine you know of. That's the best you can do, Vilkas."
With that last remark, she kicked her horse, and the search party left in a cloud of dust.
-------
It was evening before they returned. The sun had already gone down, and the light from Masser and Secunda shone down on the city, giving my surroundings a spooky feel.
I stood on Jorrvaskr's steps, waiting for the search party to return. I had not eaten anything at dinner, which seemed to worry everyone else. I had told no one of what happened at the stables, excluding Farkas. I did not want to start a panic; the Companions need not know anything until we were sure of the situation.
That was what I told myself, anyway. In truth, I was afraid. I was afraid that if I voiced my fears, they would come true.
The doors behind me creaked open, and two little hands grasped each of mine. I looked down to see my children's worried faces. The moons' light reflected off their hair, shone in their bright, wide eyes.
"What's wrong, Papa?" asked Embla as the grip she had on my hand tightened. "You didn't eat tonight."
I sighed, crouched down, and kissed them each on the head. "Don't worry about me, little ones. Go back inside, please."
Before they could comply, the heavy march of steel-plated boots approached. I looked up in time to see Marina, Benor, and another of her soldiers standing before me. They all bore solemn looks on their faces.
"Vilkas, we have news," said Marina as I stood.
"Children, go back inside." I let go of their hands. "Now."
Jergen tried to grab my hand again, but I pulled away. "But Papa—"
"Inside. Go find your aunt and uncle."
With reluctance, they did as I said.
"What have you found?" I walked down the rest of the steps so I stood directly in front of them. "Did you find her?"
"We found the bodies of her entire escort. They were executed. Three of the horses were killed, as well."
My entire body tensed. "By who?"
Marina motioned for the third solider to step forward, and he presented a burlap sack to me. I pulled the strings open and peered inside.
It was an Altmer's head, still wearing a Thalmor helm.
When the realization hit, it was like a tidal wave washing over me. My heart sank to my toes, and my knees wobbled. "Oh... no." I took a step back, legs still shaking, and collapsed. "Gods, no!"
Ylva had been taken prisoner.
The Thalmor had my wife.