7th of Morning Star, 4E 180

Twins, young and afraid, sit cowered in one corner of a rusted cage. They cling to one another, bright, ice-colored eyes alight with fear. Wild gazes try to follow the hooded people outside the cage. The bad people. The mean people who took them away from their small home.

The boys are too young to know how much time has passed, but they know it has been a long time. Their matching homespun tunics and leggings, once clean and new, now hang on their skinny frames in dirty tatters. Their leggings bear mud stains and have bloody rips at the knees.

Vilkas cannot see his own face, but he knows it must be as dirty and thin as his brother's. Perhaps more so, because he has given his brother bigger portions of the measly rations their captors have offered. Farkas's face is streaked with dried tears and blood. His fear is evident, but he has always tried to hide it. Has always tried to be brave and strong.

"Vilkas," he says, voice small and cracking. Dry, from lack of water. "Scared."

Always the twin of few words. Farkas never says much, especially when he is afraid. Vilkas nods and holds his brother tighter. "Me, too."

The sound of magics crackles through the air as one of the hooded people raises a Redguard from the dead. The man moans once, body shimmering with a purple aura. His dead eyes scan the room, falling on the cage with the boys.

"Congratulations, Katrid," says the meanest-looking hooded man. The leader of the small group. "You have done well."

The other person, Katrid, smiles under her hood. "Bandits are easy. Their minds are already so empty."

"We are running low," says a third person. "We only have... them." He points one gnarled hand to the cage, tone disgusted. "Why do we have them, anyway?"

Katrid scoffs. "It isn't your place to know yet, fool."

"I am no fool! It is you who—"

"Silence!" hisses the leader, the mean one. "Do you want everyone in the whole damn Hold to know we are here? Keep it down!"

Too busy arguing, the hooded people do not notice the clanking of steel near the mouth of their hideout. Nor do they notice the looks of fearful curiosity on the twins' faces.

The resurrected bandit moans again, causing the necromancers to quiet. "Did you hear that?" asks Katrid. "I think I heard something outside."

"Nonsense," scoffs the man Katrid was arguing with earlier. "No one can find us here—"

Before he finishes, an arrow whizzes through the air and embeds itself into the man's skull. The twins jump back in fright as his limp body slumps against their cage. The other two necromancers leap into action, readying their magic as well as trying to summon up their dead companion.

From the entrance to the cavern charge two men in matching suits of armor. One wields a bow. He has gray, thinning hair pulled back behind his head. His face bears a deep scar down one side, and one of his eyes is solid white. His friend has pitch-black hair and a thick, wild beard of the same color. He swings a greatsword over his head with practiced skill, his black-lined eyes alight with adrenaline and the thrill of battle.

Huddled in their cage, the boys watch the armored men fight the bad people. The one shooting arrows lingers at the mouth of the cave, while the other charges headlong into the fray. He fights like a bear, roaring and slashing at anything that moves. First, the dead Redguard goes down, dissolving into a pile of purple-white ashes. The resurrected necromancer falls once again to an arrow to the head. He, too, turns to ash. That leaves only Katrid and her leader, who fight with spells of fire and lightening.

The cavern burns with flames and crackles with electric energy. The armored men fight with ferocity and determination. They will not be killed by these corrupt mages who kidnap innocents and experiment on them.

The wild man roars again, stabs his sword in front of him, and runs Katrid through her belly. She gasps as he yanks the blade out and takes her head off with another swipe. He then turns to the last man, bloody sword pointed at his throat. "Any last words?" he asks, voice low.

"See you in Oblivion, dog!"

The boys gasp as the man is beheaded.

"Job well done," says the silver-haired man. He talks as if killing necromancers is something they do every day. Like it is normal.

The other man grunts and moves towards the cage. The boys push back, cowering even deeper in their corner.

The big bear-man shushes them, face soft and comforting. "Easy there, pups. We aren't here to hurt you." He drives his sword into the lock of the cage, snapping it in half. He pulls the door open, sheathes his sword over his back, then walks in. He kneels in front of the boys and holds out his big, gloved hands. "We came to rescue you."

Vilkas holds Farkas tighter. The bigger twin hides his face and grips his brother against his body.

"Skjor, get me a water skin."

The other man, Skjor, tosses the bear-man a full water skin. Then the bear-man holds it to Vilkas. "Drink. It's all right."

Cautiously, Vilkas reaches one grimy hand towards the water skin. He wraps his fingers around it, feels the liquid inside. His mouth seems even drier than before. He unstoppers the water skin and begins to drink. The water flows down his throat, easing the soreness and the headache pounding behind his eyes. After a few gulps, he hands it to his brother so he can finish it.

"My name is Jergen," says the bear-man while Farkas drinks his fill. "Can you tell me your names?"

"Vilkas," the smaller boy says, hardly above a cracked whisper. "That's Farkas." He watches his brother throw the empty skin aside and wipe his mouth.

Jergen nods, unfastens a heavy cloak from his shoulders. He lays it over the boys before taking them in his big arms. Farkas wraps his arms around Jergen's neck as the man walks out of the cage. Vilkas nestles deeper into the thick wolf fur of the cloak.

"We must hurry back to Jorrvaskr," says Jergen to Skjor. "Kodlak will want a report, and these two need some food and rest." He started marching towards the cave's mouth. "Come."

-------

10th of Sun's Dusk, 4E 204

I sat up in bed as the dream faded. Sweat coated my brow, bare chest, and back. Next to me, my wife slept soundly, curled on her side.

Then, from one of the children's cribs came fussing. I stood up, rubbing the heel of my hand against my jaw, and walked to the cribs. Jergen jerked in his cradle, fussing and kicking. I leaned over, scooped the lad into my arms, and rocked him gently.

"Don't be so loud," I whispered to him. "You don't want to wake your mother." I smiled at him. "Already wreaking havoc, and you're only four months old."

He continued to fuss and kick. I shushed him. It did no good, and he let out a wail.

I clenched my teeth as Ylva mumbled behind me. "Vilkas? What's wrong with the baby?"

"Nothing. Go back to sleep." I knew she wouldn't until she made sure the baby was all right.

She padded to my side, took Jergen from me, and held him gently against her chest. She bounced him in her arms, humming a song I did not recognize.

I looked at Embla, still asleep in her cradle. Thank the Divines that Jergen had not woken her, too. "I had it under control."

"I'm sure." In the faint candlelight, I saw her roll her eyes.

"I don't suppose the children like me that well."

"Nonsense. You just have to learn how to handle them. Why were you awake in the first place?"

"Bad dream."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

I thought back on what I had seen. For the first time, I dreamt of when Jergen rescued Farkas and me. I had never had that dream before. I always wondered where we had been when Jergen came to our rescue, but now I knew.

But I did not exactly find that comforting.

"Vilkas?"

I wiped my eyes and looked at Ylva. She held a now-sleeping Jergen in her arms, and her eyes were filled with concern.

"Put the baby back down. Then we'll talk."

Gently, she laid Jergen in his cradle. She whispered something to him, curled her hand over his back, then gave him a kiss on the head. Then, she grabbed my hand, pulled me back to our bed, and sat down on her side.

"It's been quite some time since you've had a bad dream," she said, watching me sit down next to her. "Are you all right?"

"Yes. It was more of a memory."

"What do you mean?"

I sighed. "Ylva, I saw when Jergen rescued my brother and me. I have never seen it before."

"What did you see?"

"Farkas and I were only a few winters old. We were locked in a cage, huddled in one corner, scared, starving to death. Our captors were a group of necromancers. We could only watch as they killed each of their prisoners, until we were the only two left. Jergen and Skjor came to our rescue just before the necromancers..."

She pressed her hand against my rough cheek, then leaned on my shoulder. I was thankful to have her at my side. "Gods, that's awful."

"I hope Farkas never remembers. I don't want him to remember."

"So you won't tell him?"

"I'm afraid it'll hurt him deeply if I did."

She sighed, free arm snaking around my body. "That's your choice. Just remember that he saw it, too. He's your brother."

"I know, Ylva." I kissed the top of her head, holding the hand on my cheek. "I know."

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So welcome to This is Our Home, my first short stories book! So the way this is going to work is I'm going to write short stories centered around any of my characters (Ylva, Vilkas, Farkas, Tyra, etc.), and I am also opening up for story requests! That means, if you want me to write a short story about, for example, Ylva and Vilkas (like I just did), just request it! You can also request a scenario that you want me to write about. I'm open to just about anything! Just know I won't be doing any mature-themed works, so don't request one. It's not my thing, and I am not comfortable doing it.

On top of that, I will also be doing something that I've seen AudaciousAuthoress do with her story, Mage. I will be opening up a sort of Q&A forum at the end of each short story, where you, the reader, can ask any character to have been featured in any of my Skyrim stories a question, and they will answer! Ask Femke, ask Colborn, heck, ask the random guard outside Riften who tries to get people to pay a visitor's tax!

Hope you enjoy this story! Vote and comment if you did! As always, love and sweetrolls!
~WG 💙