#awriting

4th chap "feelings"

lecles said: tests are over!!!!

lecles said: we should do something

lecles said: i feel like I haven’t seen you in ages

mybuttercup said: my room or yours ;)

lecles said: mine ;)

You sigh after reading the message, because there’s no escape from Charles if it’s just both of you together - and you’re pretty sure Charles didn’t invite the others to his house. After a week of flirting all the time and touching in inappropriate places, you don't feel as scared as you did the first time. 

You feel freer to try things with Charles, but you’re still trying his best to hold it back a little. Your feelings are still in the game and you can’t let them control you, not right now, not after so many years hiding them deep inside your heart. After the event that led you to avoid Charles for some days, you’re trying really hard to hold everything in and keep things like they always were.

-

“Really?” Charles says looking up at you. Charles is studying for his tests and you are laying on the floor of his room playing games on your phone, looking through your social media feeds and doing whatever. You’re beyond bored, you had enough of watching Charles reading that book about engineering over, and over again. So you decide to try something new “Sitting on my lap? While I’m studying?”

Charles has a defeated look on his face, almost grinnin in your direction when you put your legs on each side of Charles’s waist. At first, Charles doesn’t know where to put his hands, he would normally put them on the thighs, maybe a little higher… But it’s you and he still doesn’t know how to act when things like this happen between you.

“You’ve been studying for several hours, you need to relax a little.” You smirk and grind with your hips, watching the normal face Charles does whenever you touch him in the right places. It’s something similar to a pleasure expression, but when the person tries to hold it back and fails “I know it’s a big test, but you could take a little break.”

And you grind again.

It’s not like you wanted to have sex with Charles. Actually, you wanted to, but not in this situation. You’ve been holding back all of the uncontrollable hormones inside of you for so long, you could wait a little longer. Also, you’re pretty sure nothing like that would actually ever happen between you, but if it did, you would want it to be special. Not you just messing around in Charles’s room before a big test.

You just want to tease Charles because it’s fun. Charles is desperate and gets turned on easily, so you only need to do the bare minimum and Charles is already crawling in your direction. It’s fun to see Charles like that, especially because it’s a part of Charles that you’ve never had the chance to see before.

“You’re right, a break should be fine.” Charles almost bites his lower lip, but decides to grin at your direction instead.

You can feel Charles spreading his legs under you, making your legs spread too, and grabs both of your butt cheeks with his strong hands. Charles tightens his grip and makes you grind again, this time slower and deeper

He continues to guide what your body should do, with his fingers tight around your ass “Are we dry humping?” You smile because you like it, especially because Charles is so down to it too.

“I don’t know, are we?”

“I think so.” You say in a soft whisper because you’re starting to feel things, and feeling whatever is happening with Charles’s down parts too. 

It’s a new sensation, to be finally able to share a moment like this with Charles. It’s totally different from when you were fourteen and decided to share a first kiss, just to see how it was to kiss someone. It was just a peck on the lips, but it was the most intimate moment you shared in years. 

It was different from your almost-sexting weeks ago, because now you are face-to-face. You can feel Charles under you. It’s physical, tangible and hot. You don't need to imagine anything, because you’re living it.

For a moment, you stop and think about this situation. Charles has no idea about your true intentions. Of course, Charles was the one to start the intense grinding, but he doesn’t know you are actually taking advantage of everything. And you feel awful thinking about it in this way.

You put your hands over Charles’s and the boy smiles, thinking you wanted to take control, but it’s the opposite, you wanted to end everything right there “I-I should probably go home… you have to study.”

Charles looks like a lost puppy, eyes begging for at least an explanation from his best friend “You… Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry if I did, you don’t have to leave, you can stay.” 

“No, I really should go.” You brushed off any chance Charles could get off making you stay. You grab your jacket on the floor and leave the room before Charles could even get up from his chair.

While you’re walking home, you feel nauseous because you know you’re doing something wrong. It’s not fair with both of you, but you can’t think of a way out of this situation.

You decide to avoid Charles for a whole week, until Charles asks you to come over, so you do.

You still have to win the bet and being impersonal and avoiding Charles isn’t the way to win him over. Charles’s love language is physical and touches, so that’s your chance to make a move again.

Charles would never resist your cuddles, you’re sure of it. 

When you arrive, Charles is watching something and eating snacks on his couch. It’s the perfect mood for a cuddling session and you are glad Charles’s brain always works in your favor.

You watch an episode of some series Charles has been binge watching since early that day and in the middle of the second episode, you’re already tangled together. It was easier than you imagined, because all you had to do was lean against Charles’s shoulder and Charles did the rest. You’ve already cuddled before, especially when Charles feels down and sad, he can be really clingy. But Charles is being more… loving? If that’s the right word to use in that situation. 

You’re on the floor, you're sitting in the middle of Charles’s legs. You gave up on the sofa because it was too small for both of you and you honestly hated that sofa since day one, it was too uncomfortable. 

You like this new cuddling more, because Charles keeps kissing his neck and caressing your arms. There’s not much difference from when you used to cuddle when Charles needed to, but you would normally just stay hug on the bed during the whole day. Now, Charles is really cuddling you, not just waiting for you to comfort him. 

This time it looks like what Charles would do with his love interest. You saw him doing it to many of them, and deep inside envied all of them. Charles is romantic and his love can be really intense when he’s into someone. You've never thought you would experience this type of relationship with Charles after so many years of crushing him. It always felt too far away from your reality, but now that you’re in it, you enjoy it.

“I need to ask something.” Charles says, placing another round of kisses in your neck. And you don’t feel like punching him at all.

“What do you want to ask?” You are ticklish in your neck, but you don't mind if Charles continues to kiss it for the rest of the day “It isn’t related to the episode we just watched, right? You always get distracted when we watch something and I always have to explain everything that happened in it to you. But this time it’ll be a little difficult, I already forgot how many times he went back in time.”

Charles keeps quiet for a second and then says:

“No, it’s about us.” The way Charles says ‘us’ makes you turn around and face him. Nothing good comes from Charles using that type of tone and speaking about a relationship “It’s nothing serious, don’t worry.”

You gulp because maybe Charles noticed you have a crush on him, and now he wants to claim that he won the bet and kick you out of his life “Okay, so what about us?”

“I was just wondering, this is weird, right?” Charles scratches the back of his head, looking away from your eyes “We’re best friends and we never had something like this. I know all of this is because we made a bet and we’re trying to win this by seducing each other, but when this ends, what will happen? Are we friends with benefits now?”

“No, I think we’re still just friends.” You feel like throwing up, or maybe running away. You can still end the bet and things will go back to normal, but deep in your guts you want to continue this fantasy and have Charles treating you like you’re in a relationship for a little longer. You’re selfish after all.

“So what will happen? The bet will end at some point.” Charles sighs, a defeated sigh.

“In the end one of us will have fallen in love.” You shrug, trying to sound unbothered by the matter “And probably heartbroken too. It's a pity to fall in love with your best friend.”

Charles keeps silent for a moment, making you even more nervous “We should add more rules into this bet, it’s still too abstract in my opinion and I get confused.”

“Okay, let’s solve this then.” You cross your legs and start to point out everything you’ve discussed about the bet “I said I can make you fall in love with me and you said you can make me fall in love with you first, that’s how the bet started, right?” Charles nods “We can do everything to win this bet, BUT nothing during classes or when our friends are with us. And no kissing. This is a long-term bet, we have all the time we want and the winner can make the other do whatever they want as the prize. I don’t know what will happen next, Charles, because I don’t know how our reactions will be if the other wins the bet. It’s crazy to bet on something like this because it involves feelings and all, but that’s what we agreed to do.”

Charles thinks for a while and says “I want to add another rule.” You just nod at him “We need to know when and if the other falls in love, right? So the new rule is: confess your feelings the moment you realize you’re in love. No lying, just accept you lost the best.”

You freak out inside because you already know you’re in love with Charles, but you’re not ready to confess it right away. You can’t just say in Charles’s face that you’ve been in love with him for the past few years, even before the bet even started. You can’t say without it sounding bad; Charles will feel betrayed and he’ll assume you started all of this to take advantage of him.

No, you can’t confess.

“Deal.” You say with a straight voice. You need to get out of this situation so you continue “You know Charles, now that we figured everything out, I really want to know the end of this episode, so…” Charles rolls his eyes and nods.

You sit like before, in your spot in between Charles’s legs. Charles hugs you and hides his face in the curve of his neck, holding you tight.

You have made your mind – you need to forget about Charles, quickly. For your own good.

-

It’s 4 a.m when Charles’s phone starts ringing. He reaches for it on the bed table, and with his eyes almost shut he looks at the bright screen. ‘My buttercup’ is shining in it, so he picks it up right away.

“Cupcake?” He says with his husky voice, confused with the call.

“How many foster dads did you have?”  I was tempted to stop talking and let her sleep, but I knew that she liked it when people talked to her as she fell asleep. I talked to her for most nights, I should’ve been used to it by then, I suppose, but it still felt sort of strange. I always felt sort of bad.

“A lot. I don’t know. Maybe seven.”

I let out a low whistle. “Seven. Huh.”

“Yeah.”

“I guess you’re pretty excited to find your biological parents?” She nodded. “Are you worried at all?”

“Why would I be worried?”

“I don’t know. Lots of people are scared when they meet their biological parents.” She paused. “I mean, I am a little worried, I guess. But I’ve put so much effort into finding them, I don’t want to think about any of that.” She was quiet for what felt like a long time. “Could I tell you something?”

I furrowed my eyebrows, but I tried to keep the concern out of my voice. “Sure.” There was a big laugh track in the background from Victorious, and in the back of my head, I wondered what the joke was. I realized I hadn’t been paying attention at all. 

She spoke slowly. “I’m really close to finding them. There are just like, two more papers I have to go pick up.” She stopped, and breathed out slowly. “I guess I’m just here with you guys because I am scared. I want to delay finding them a little longer, you know? I know, it’s weird, but I don’t know. I just feel like if I’m going to be disappointed, it might as well be later.” 

I nodded. “That makes sense. You should wait as long as you need to.” And maybe I said it because I liked talking to her as she fell asleep every night, and having her as a friend was one of the best parts of my life right now, but that didn’t make it any less true. “Do you know what you’re going to say to them? Once you find them?”

“I actually haven’t thought about it much. I never thought I would actually find them, I guess.”

“Aren’t you happy to have pretty much found them, though?”

She smiled a bit. “Yeah. I am. I… I’ve always wanted a real family.” And I wanted to tell her that she felt like family to me, but I didn’t. Maybe I should’ve. Maybe things would’ve been  different if I had. I think about that sometimes. 

It was my turn to talk, but I wasn’t really sure what to say, so I changed the subject. “Are you excited for our adventure tomorrow?”

She nodded, and sighed (but it was the good sort of sigh). “I am. I really like adventure. I’m really glad that I’m out here going on adventures with you two.”

“We’re glad too. It feels like you’ve been with us the whole time, you know?”

Kutcher laughed a bit, and nodded. “Yeah. It does.” 

“He’s right,” Althea agreed.

Kodlak had a plan, a way to possibly be free from the wolf’s blood, but he never shared it with her. The only thing she had to go on was the bag of bloody witches’ heads that, given the scent of rot and decay, was just beyond the cavern they stood in.

Althea continued, “Kodlak knew of a way to get rid of the beastblood. He had-”

Aela interrupted her shield-sister with a scoff, “Being moon-born is not so much a curse as you two might think. I thought you of all people would know that, Althea.”

“This isn’t about what I want or what you believe,” the Dragonborn shot back.

Vilkas joined in the argument, his tone sharp. “He wanted to be clean.”

The pair exchanged a brief glance, a look of mutual understanding.

Vilkas looked back at Aela, hardening his expression before continuing. “He wanted to meet Ysgramor and know the glories of Sovngarde, but all of that was taken from him.”

“And there’s nothing we can do about that,” Aela sneered, matching his expression, with her arms crossed over her chest. “All we could do was avenge him, and you and Althea took care of that for the rest of us.”

The arguing continued between the three with Farkas piping in occasionally, much calmer than the rest. Voices raised to level that managed to push through the cracks in the stone door, drawing the attention of those who remained to pay their last respects; their voices and scents crept closer to the Underforge, but it wasn’t enough to deter the Circle from containing their bickering.

The scraping of stone on stone echoed through the Underforge, halting the Circle’s quarrel; Eorlund stepped through and approached the group. The emotions he had been hiding during the eulogy were beginning to break through, pulling at the wear near his mouth and eyes, aging him. He stopped between Vilkas and Althea and placed a hand on the dark-haired Nord’s shoulder.

“Let it rest for tonight,” he spoke in a soft yet authoritative voice. “Join the others in Jorrvaskr and mourn as a family.”

“They’ll have questions,” Vilkas replied, looking down at the stone floor. “They saw Kodlak turn.”

Aela dropped her arms to her sides. “They’ve already started asking questions. Athis and Njada especially.” 

“All the more reason for you to join the others,” the blacksmith remarked. “This loss and discovery could divide the Companions, and no one here could stand to lose the rest of their family.” With a light squeeze on Vilkas’s shoulder, he added, “Go. Except you, Althea.”

Wordlessly, the others obeyed, leaving the Underforge after the door had opened. Eorlund led Althea to the exit and waited until it closed behind them to speak.

“Did you and Vilkas retrieve the fragments of Wuuthrad?” he asked.

The young woman nodded.

“Good,” he replied. “I’ll need to prepare them for mounting again. There’s another piece that Kodlak always kept close to himself. It’s in his chambers-”

A sigh and a drop of Althea’s head interrupted Eorlund.

“I-I can’t go…” Her voice hitched in the slightest on the last word.

“Althea.”

His voice drew her attention from the ground and into his weathered face. The worry lines that marred the Harbinger’s were mirrored in Eorlund’s, surrounded by hair only a few shades lighter than Kodlak’s. The eyes were different; where Kodlak had held compassion, Eorlund carried determination. Determination to keep moving forward, to not let loss of life hold back from living.

“You cannot carry Kodlak’s death as if it were your own,” he told her. “You cannot avoid all that reminds you of him.” A small smile accompanied his next words, “You’re better off attacking it head on, as you’ve done with everything else. The Companions will need you, lass. They’ll need your guidance.”

The Dragonborn remained silent but held Eorlund’s gaze, wide-eyed with up-turned eyebrows, finding it hard to believe that she could lead the Companions. She couldn’t keep the previous leader alive, how could she possibly take his place?

He continued speaking after giving her time to absorb his words.

“Your time will come,” he said. “The gods have blessed you from birth. The soul of a dragon carries strength, and you will find it.” He paused and placed a hand on her shoulder. “For now, I’m asking you to get the fragment from Kodlak’s room. I’m not sure I’m the best one to go through his things.”

She didn’t understand what he meant by that, but she didn’t question it. Rather, she offered a sigh of resignation and nodded.

Leaving the blacksmith to tend to the remains of the pyre, she entered Jorrvaskr and found the rest of the Companions gathered around the hearth that lit the main hall. Their voices a contrasting chill against the heat of the fire. A mix of grief and anger; the whelps were confused and demanded answers. The Circle offered no such satisfaction.

Farkas remained silent, as he usually did in situations such as this, while Vilkas and Aela argued with the others. Words blurred together into a wavering hum in Althea’s ears; she didn’t care what was being said, even when their angered voices turned toward her.

Her steps didn’t pause even as she reached the top of stairs that led to the living quarters. The buzz in her ears waned as she swung the door shut behind her and ventured down into the hall. Althea’s boots dragged against the wood and rugs as she trudged toward Kodlak’s room. Each step seeming in place, as though she weren’t moving forward.

She never remembered it taking so long to reach Kodlak’s quarters. Of course, almost every other time she’d gone to his room, she was in a huff after an argument with Vilkas or had been called into his room to be lectured.

The familiar scent of canine that each of the Circle members shared was abundant toward the end of the hall where the Circle’s rooms were held, but the faint aroma of embers and citrus became apparent when she reached Kodlak’s study. His bedroom was hidden just behind the door that stood to her right, but she couldn’t bring herself to open it yet.

Instead, she moved to stand in front of his desk. Her fingers brushed over the map Kodlak had laid out, stopping at each ink mark he had added; she would never have the chance to ask what each mark meant. On each side of the map was a book; Song of Hrormir on one side and Great Harbingers on the other. She picked up Great Harbingers, running her hand over the well-worn cover and the cracks ingrained on the binding. The pages flipped through her fingers, releasing the faint smell of dust and must that books seemed to gather, no matter how well they were taken care of. Althea put the book back down with a soft, airy thud.

A heavy sigh filled the otherwise silent room as she turned around and gripped the handle of the door, bringing herself to enter his room. The door opened with a quiet creak and revealed Kodlak’s neatly kept room; his bed made, his books aligned perfectly along the small bookshelf in the corner, and a few of the weapons he collected displayed on a rack on the wall. His scent was stronger here, trapped in the blanket and clothes; normally a comfort when distraught, but now only offered Althea more heartache.

He didn’t have many places that could house the fragment Eorlund sought; there was the dresser, but it seemed dangerous to hold a sharp piece of metal among clothes. Her eyes fell on one of the nightstands next to his bed before she began digging through the drawers. 

She found the fragment wrapped in softened hide, resting on a leather-bound journal. The search was quick and easy; too much time spent digging through his belongings would tear at her chest. With a silent thought of gratitude to the gods, Althea pushed the drawer shut and hurried out of the room.

The voices from the main hall grew louder as she climbed the stairs, but she didn’t pay them any mind. Again, they called out to her, but she continued past them, stopping only to grab the hilt and sack of shards before returning outside.

Her heavy steps followed the path to Skyforge where Eorlund was waiting for the last of the embers to burn out. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest, staring down at the hearth; his back was to her, but she felt that the air around him was charged with grief, and it seemed to weigh on his slumped shoulders.

“Eorlund,” Althea spoke softly, stepping closer to the old blacksmith. “Here.”

He took the fragments before looking up at her and offering a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Thank you, lass.”

“Do you need any help?”

“No, I can handle it,” he replied. His eyes moved to the lights escaping through the windows of Jorrvaskr before he spoke again. “How are they?”

She sighed and shook her head in exasperation. “They’re just… arguing. There’s no mourning, no comfort for one another.”

Glancing down at the forge’s hearth, she moved to mirror Eorlund’s earlier stance with her arms crossed. “I don’t understand why they seem completely unaffected by Kodlak’s death.”

Placing a hand on her shoulder, Eorlund squeezed reassuringly. “They’re confused and don’t know how to feel,” he explained. “The Companions will be forever changed by this death and this revelation. They need a direction and someone to take them in that direction.”

“So you’ve mentioned,” she mumbled in response.

“You need to hear it, girl.” His hand fell from her shoulder and grasped the metal held by his other hand. “The Companions will either live or die here. If you don’t guide them, they’ll destroy themselves.”

“Kodlak isn’t the first Harbinger to die,” Althea remarked. “Why should this death be any different than those before?”

“The Companions have been an army, a drunk rabble, a common mercenary group, a band of noble warriors,” he began. “Kodlak, in his time as Harbinger, turned the Companions into a family.”

Althea closed her eyes and raked her fingers through her hair. “That would explain why we’re so dysfunctional.”

He ignored her comment and continued speaking. “They need a powerful voice to keep their emotions from getting the better of them. Be that voice.”

“Since when was I the voice of reason?” she asked, despite her tone, she was genuinely curious. “I thought I was the hot-head.”

He chuckled softly, “That title is between you and Vilkas.”

Althea looked up at him, her eyes held by his aged, stormy blue gaze. She still didn’t understand why the duty was falling to her and not Vilkas; he was as every bit devoted to the Companions as she, and his thoughts were logical as often as hers, and his emotions clouded his judgements just as heavy as hers. Was it her status as Dragonborn? She hadn’t done anything remarkable with it; beyond meeting with the Greybeards and using her Shouts in battle, her dragon soul seemed to have little meaning.

“Go,” Eorlund ordered. “Go to your family.”

Shoulders dropping forward, Althea released a sigh and turned to leave. There would be no answers given by Eorlund, just more words of “duty” and vague reasons why that duty was hers. Effort spent prying was effort wasted.

Althea ventured back to the mead hall, hearing the still-heated voices outside the door. After setting free an exasperated groan, she pushed open the door, unleashing the full force of the Companions’ argument.

With a deep a breath, the walls shook as she let out a single word.