A/N: Contains use of alcohol, strong language and sexual content. I cannot be held responsible for warping the minds of you younger readers out there. You have been warned.

For fun, not profit. Skyrim belongs to Bethesda. I simply own Anara Veyhdriin (Veyah) and the plot.

Knocked this out in a couple of hours to basically satisfy my own smutty needs. I haven't posted anything to this site in about 4 years. Last story I published was stolen, and I just haven't been in a writing mood for a lonnnng time. I was inspired by the multitude of amazing Skyrim fics I've been reading lately; all of which you can find in my favorite stories should you wish to read them yourself. I highly recommend that you do. Anyway, let me know what you think. I've been playing around with the idea of telling more of Veyah's tales throughout Skyrim, but if no one is interested then there's really no point.

Please excuse any mistakes you may find. I typed this on my cell, lol.

Story cover drawn by me.

The Harbinger was dead. Kodlak Whitemane would never again walk the halls of Jorrvaskr. Veyah felt as though the whole of Nirn was crumbling to pieces around her. He was gone, and because of his Beast Blood the old man could never find peace in Sovngarde. He was left to roam the Hunting Grounds of Hircine, forever a part of the Deadric lord's hunt. The thought made the Dunmer feel sick. Kodlak believed there was a cure, and he'd sent Veyah out in search of the Glenmoril witches in hopes she would return with one of the foul creature's heads.

And return she did. Though the journey to the Glenmoril Coven proved fruitful it came at a price and it ended up costing her, and the rest of the Companions, much more than they were willing to give up. Vilkas was right. Kodlak's blood was on her hands. If only she would have stayed! She could have helped protect the old man. She was the gods damn Dragonborn, for Shor's sake! Veyah could have shouted those Silver Hand bastards to the depths of the Void. She could have saved him. He would still be here right now if Veyah would have simply waited a few more days.

Had he sent her on this quest knowing this doom was upon him? Surely not. Veyah understood Kodlak didn't have much longer in this world. Old age, combined with the rot, was slowly eating away at his body. In time, he would pass on. She remembered when he had told her. He was calm about the subject. He explained to her that he was ready for his death; after all he had lived long enough and seen a great many things. His only wish was that his spirit went to Sovngarde, to the great Hall of Valor where he could be at peace with his kin and the heroes of old.

That is where the Glenmoril witches came into play. Without hesitation Veyah agreed to bring back their heads. She would do anything for Kodlak. He had been her mentor, her friend and the closest thing to a father figure she ever had. Veyah loved him fiercely. And now he was dead. Kodlak had not told her what to do with the witch's head once she retrieved it. He simply asked that she return with it. Now not only was he dead, but he was suffering whatever fate awaited in Hircine's Hunting Grounds.

Veyah had failed doubly, and she hated herself for it.

"Stop that," Vilkas saw tears brimming in the Dunmer's large, red eyes. "Do not weap, for you and I shall avenge Kodlak's death."

"No," she whispered, wiping a solem tear from her cheek with the back of her hand.

"What do you mean, 'no'? We must kill these bastards and retrieve all the shards of Wuuthrad! It's what Kodlak would have wanted."

"I mean you were right, Vilkas. Kodlak's death rests upon me. I am not worthy of avenging him. I'm not worthy of the Companions, and I never was!"

Vilkas watched in disbelief and shock as Veyah tore her way out of Jorrvaskr, headed off to gods knows where. He had always been a bit tough on her. He disliked the Dunmer at first. Maybe it was her race, or maybe it was because he was jealous of her being the Dragonborn, he was unsure. But the moment she gained the respect of the Harbinger his distaste began to recede. If Kodlak thought her special, and he did, then he had no right or reason to argue. She had proven herself time and time again within the Companions.

"You should not have blamed her," Aela whispered. "She was only doing what Kodlak asked of her."

"You are right, shield-sister. You are right."

The Bannered Mare was filled to the rafters with people. Veyah could hear the chattering and roars of laughter before she even entered the inn. Normally she wasn't too fond of large crowds and gatherings, but she needed an escape from Vilkas' accusing glare and the sadness that seemed to swallow Jorrvaskr whole. Her residence, Breezehome, would have been a much quieter alternative, but there was no mead there and Veyah desperately felt she needed a drink. Or twenty.

Veyah wasn't inside for more than a minute before she was bombarded Saadia, a Redgaurd female who worked as a barkeep for Hulda. Veyah wasn't overly fond of the woman, but she remained pleasant to her during most of her visits to the Mare.

Tonight was a different story entirely.

"I'm not here to talk, Saadia," the Dunmer warned. "Just give me a tankard of mead and leave me be."

Without a word Saadia turned on her heel and left. Veyah took a seat in the far corner of the inn, trying her best to keep as much distance as she could from the other patrons. Mikael, the Mare's bard and Whiterun's local letcher, must have noticed Veyah enter the inn; he was playing his rendition of the song, "The Dragonborn Comes". He was doing a fine job of mucking it up, too, Veyah noted.

Saadia returned moments later and sat an overflowing tankard on the small table in front of Veyah. She turned to leave, but not before placing a hand on the Dunmer's shoulder and whispering, "I'm sorry about Kodlak."

So word had gotten out. Of course it did. Everyone in Whiterun respected and admired Kodlak. And rumors spread through this town like a raging wildfire. Only Kodlak's death wasn't a rumor, it was true.

Veyah sighed and raised the tankard to her lips. "Keep 'em coming, Saadia." she told the Redgaurd. With a few mighty gulps the tankard was emptied. Veyah didn't take the time to taste and enjoy the drink. Saadia returned with two more, and it continued this way well into the evening. She would down the mead within minutes, and Saadia would keep bringing more. She was grateful the woman didn't push the subject of the Harbinger, or tell her when she thought Veyah had had enough. Saadia didn't speak to her at all and that was the way Veyah liked and wanted it.

By her sixteenth or seventeenth tankard the effects of the mead were making themselves known. Veyah welcomed the numbness of the alcohol. It served to lessen the pain of her failure and loosing Kodlak. The Dunmer waved the barmaid off when she came to her with yet another drink. Veyah didn't notice the look of relief on Saadia's face. The Redgaurd knew if Veyah had much more she would either start a raging fight with one of the other patrons, or become violently sick. She had seen it a few times before. The responsibility of being the Dragonborn had weighed heavy on the poor Dunmer woman and many times she sought the comfort of the drink to drown her sorrows and frustrations. Saadia was unsure if it had actually helped or not.

Veyah's eyelids were becoming heavier, and with a deep sigh she laid her head on the table. The wood was hard and uncomfortable, but she didn't mind. She watched the candlelight flicker and dance about for a moment before she closed her eyes completely. Sleep overcame her almost instantly. It wouldn't have been the first time she passed out in the Bannered Mare.

When she awoke Veyah found herself in her bed back at Breezehome. Her leather armor had been stripped away and replaced with one of her long, soft cotton nightshirts. She didn't remember changing. She didn't remember leaving the Mare. Perhaps Saadia or Hulda had sent for Veyah's Housecarl, Lydia, to fetch her and take her home. That would explain the change of clothes. Lydia must have been in her room, or downstairs because she certainly wasn't sitting at the table near the foot of Veyah's bed.

With a groan Veyah pulled herself up and out of bed. She immediately regretted the decision when her bare feet hit the cold, wooden floor. She hissed to herself from the shock of the sensation. The moment Veyah stood up a rush of blood went straight to her head, causing her to see stars. She always had the worst hangover after spending most of the night drinking. Luckily, she didn't feel sick to her stomach. The feeling of a hundred mammoths stomping on one's skull was bad enough. Pinching the bridge of her nose, Veyah made her way to the bedside table and retrieved a small vial containing a blue potion. Being advanced in the art of alchemy had it's advantages and through the years Veyah had managed to concoct the perfect solution to hangovers.

It may have tasted like skeever piss, but it got the job done. And quickly, too.

The sun had not yet risen, and Veyah had expected Lydia to be asleep in her room. Only she wasn't. The bed was still perfectly made up. It was then Veyah remembered she had sent Lydia to Proudspire Manor, her home in Solitude, to retrieve some of her alchemical ingredients she had stored there. That was a day ago. There was no way Lydia could have returned from her journey in such a short amount of time.

So just how in the Void did she manage to get home, and who had changed her clothes?

She got her answer the moment she made it down the stairs. There, standing in front of the roasting spit and stiring what smelled to be some sort of beef stew, was Farkas.

"Hello, shield-sister," he said with a smile. "I hope you don't mind my being here, but you couldn't very well get yourself home from the Mare drunk as you were and I was worried about you."

Veyah didn't speak. She couldn't find her voice. Seeing Farkas brought all of her feelings about Kodlak and his death bubbling back up to the surface. And after she had tried so damn hard to push them down with all that mead! Who was she kidding? She knew from experience that mead and ale only served to lessen the pain for a short amount of time. And if she kept using the alcohol to keep her feelings at bay she'd be nothing more than a blubbering drunkard. No, she would just have to live with the fact that her actions essentially saw to the murder of her beloved Harbinger.

But gods damn it, she didn't want to live with the pain! Veyah could take physical pain. She had suffered through being torured and nearly being ripped apart by the great jaws of Alduin. She had been impaled by arrows, her flesh cut by daggers and swords. Each and every time she used the Dragonrend shout her dragon soul screamed in agony. Oh yes, Veyah could handle physical pain. It was the emotional side she had trouble with. She had always had trouble with her emotions, and the thought that she had had a hand in the death of Kodalk Whitemane, however slight it may be, hurt far worse than any arrow or sword ever had.

She needed something, other than the alcohol, to help ease her suffering. Anything...

Unable to hold it in any longer, Veyah slumped to the floor in a heap and began to cry. Her body shook violently with the sobs. She wept for Kodlak and his lost soul. She wept because she wasn't there to protect him, as she should have been. She wept for her companions who had lost their great advisor... because of her.

Farkas was by her side in a flash. He wrapped his large arms around her instinctively and held her close as she continued to sob. "Veyah," he whispered into her long, white hair, "I understand you mourn for Kodlak. We all do. But you must know this wasn't your fault. You were simply doing what the Harbinger wished of you."

"But I wasn't there to protect him, just as Vilkas said!" came her reply. She had her face buried in Farkas' chest, arms wrapped around his waist as she spoke.

Farkas scoffed. "My brother is a fool. He should not have been so hard on you."

"I should have been there."

Farkas put his finger under Veyah's chin and pulled her head up so she was looking at him. Her large, red eyes were puffy from the crying. He smiled at her. "Kodlak loved you. He will always love you. You were like a daughter to him, Veyah, and I know this because he told me personally. He would not want you to suffer this way." He carefully wiped a stray tear away as he spoke, "Besides, you are much too pretty to be so sad."

Without thinking Veyah slowly reached up and pressed her lips to his. She could feel him try to pull away and she didn't want him to. Without breaking the kiss she moved into his lap and snaked her arms around his neck, trying to bring him closer. He placed his large hand on her shoulder and gently pushed back.

"Veyah, we shouldn't-"

"Please, Farkas," She pressed her forehead to his, their lips inches apart. "I need this. Please," she begged. She was pleading with him to ease her pain, if only for a moment. She pressed her lips to his once more, pleased when he didn't resist. Instead, he deepend the kiss, his tongue running along her bottom lip seeking entrance. She gladly obliged him. He tasted of fire, smoke and honey; a combination Veyah found she quite enjoyed.

Farkas broke the kiss suddenly, much to Veyah's dismay. She was about to open her mouth to protest when the large Nord scooped her up in the bridal fashion made his way up the stairs with her. He needed no direction as he carried her to the large, double bed. He sat her down gingerly before attacking her mouth with his own once more. Veyah smiled inwardly at the thought that she was about to bed her shield-brother. She had always found Farkas attractive, but never did she think they would end up laying together. It was exciting to her. Though part of her, a very small part, felt guilty that she was essentially using him...

He was on top of her in a flash, placing feather light kisses on her forehead, nose and cheeks before capturing her mouth. She could feel her heart thundering in her ears, feel the rush of blood fill her cheeks. Her wolfish senses easily picked up on Farkas' arousal, which only served to highten her own. Veyah silently thanked the divines that Farkas had decided to wear a simple shirt and breeches instead of his normal heavy armor. She could feel his hardened member throbbing against her inner thigh. She wanted more. She needed more. Letting the dragon and wolf within her take over she rolled in one quick motion to the left and found herself exactly where she wanted to be, on top and in control.

Ever so gently her fingers ghosted across the firm planes of his chest, creeping lower and lower. She could hear his breath hitch as she slowly slid her hand between her legs and beneath the waistband of his pants. She took her time, inching closer, closer and closer still. Farkas let out a growl of pleasure when she finally ceased her teasing and gripped him in her small hand. Gods, he was much bigger than Veyah ever imagined, and harder than rock. She circled her thumb over the thick, moist tip and smiled to herself when she felt the Nord shudder.

Farkas couldn't take much more of the Dunmer's teasing. While she squeezed and gently tugged on his cock he took to making short work of her nightshirt. She needed to be naked, now. In one quick motion the garment was ripped away and tossed aside, forgotten. He had seen Veyah naked many times before, but never during the heat of passion. No, this was something else entirely. Like a blind man seeing for the first time. Her skin was a pale gray in the moonlight and soft as silk under his rough fingers. He wanted to kiss, lick and nip every inch of her. He wanted to make her moan and writhe beneath him. He wanted to make her scream.

A moan escaped Veyah's lips as Farkas pulled her closer and placed several kisses in the hollow between her breasts. He moved slowly, and achingly so, from one breast to the other before finally capturing one of her taught nipples in his mouth. His tongue swirled around the nub sending a delightful chill down her spine; and when he took the sensitve skin between his teeth Veyah saw stars explode behind her eyelids. It had been far too long since she had been touched by another this way. Veyah let her head fall back as he made his way up, licking along her breast, her collarbone until he finally reached her neck. She wound her fingers through his hair as he bit down. It was pain and pleasure all rolled into one and she never wanted it to end.

The beast within Farkas was emerging, and he knew Veyah was enjoying it. He could smell the blood racing through the artery in her neck, pulsing rapidly with the beat of her heart. She was clawing at the tie of his breeches wildly. No, it wouldn't be that easy. He could be a tease too. With a sly smile he flipped her over so she was on her back below him. He kissed her with a fierce passion before moving down and licking at her jaw line. He went lower still, one hand kneading a breast while his mouth worked over the other. Lower, he trailed hot kisses down her flat stomach. Lower, lower, lower...

By the time Veyah could feel his breath move over her heat she was ready to explode. She was slick with desire, ready and waiting for him. He hovered there for a moment, taking a deep breath and inhaling her. Veyah was shaking beneath him as she dug her fingers into his shoulders. With one, long lick he tasted her.

"Ohhh!"

It was all the encouragement he needed. Within moments she was bucking against him as he lapped her up. She had the most amazing aroma, earthy and rich. He could spend forever buried between the Dunmer's thighs. He continued to lick and suck at the sweet flesh. Gods, she was wet! And it was because of him. The thought made his dick twitch. Farkas circled the point of his tongue around Veyah's now swollen clit. She gasped loudly as he moved faster and faster...

So close. She was falling to pieces. Her insides felt like molten lava, pooling together at her very core. In mere moments she would have the release her body so desperately seeked. When Farkas took her aching clit into his mouth she was sure she would die from the pleasure. Just a few more seconds and she would be there..

But then, nothing. She felt Farkas shift his weight and pull away from her sex, leaving her panting, trembling and desperately wanting more. When she opened her eyes he was hovering above her, his large arms supporting his weight. Damn it to the Void, she had been so close!

He lowered his lips to her ear and whispered in a husky, seductive tone, "I want to be inside you when you come."

Somewhere in the midst of Veyah's foggy haze of ecstasy Farkas had removed his cotton breeches. She could feel the head of his cock resting near her slick entrance. He rubbed himself against her opening causing her to shudder. He was being careful, and slow. Too slow. Veyah appreciated that he was trying to be gentle with her, but gentle wasn't what she wanted or needed. She needed to take matters into her own hands. Never taking her dark eyes off of him, Veyah pushed her hips forward quickly. She could hear Farkas hiss as she swallowed him whole.

"Fuuuuck," he cursed. She was soaked, and unbelievably warm. Tight, fleshy walls surrounded him, quivering. He pulled back slightly and thrust forward, pleased by the moans escaping from his lover's lips. He wanted to take things slow, make it last, but the beast within him had different plans; apparently, so did Veyah.

It only took them a moment to find their rhythm. Veyah rocked her hips in motion with Farkas' thrusts, her face buried in the crook of his neck as she cried out in pleasure. Her hands were pawing at his back in an attempt to pull him closer. She could feel the heat building within her, ready to explode like an ancient volcano that had spent too much time lying dormant.

"Veyah," he groaned. Farkas continued to bury himself into her as her moans turned into screams. She never took her eyes off of him as he picked up the pace. He could tell she was nearing that moment of pure ecstasy, and he knew he wasn't far behind.

Veyah wrapped her legs around Farkas' waist and locked her ankles together behind him as he gripped her hips tightly. The sensations, the sounds of their bodies slamming together, it was all becoming too much. They were both slick with sweat and panting wildly. Every inch of her body felt like it was on fire and when she felt Farkas rub his large knuckle over her swollen nub she knew she was done for.

"Oh, gods, Farkas!" He heard her cry out. She was arching her back and biting down on her bottom lip. "Please. Please, don't stop." He didn't intend to. Her tight walls were rippling around him, pushing him over the edge. When she came, Farkas held tight and continued to ground into her while he worked over her clit with the pad of his thumb. Her head fell backwards, mouth agape and screaming as she shook violently beneath him.

He continued to sink himself into her again and again, until Veyah was sure she couldn't take another stroke. With one last hard and sudden thrust she felt him release. He fell forward and Veyah captured his lips with her own as she felt him shudder and twitch inside of her. She smiled when he laid his head on her chest, not bothering to pull out of her. It felt good to be connected to him, to hold him close as their bodies recovered from the shock of their orgasms.

"That was..."

"Devine." he finished for her.

And it was. The beasts within them sated, Farkas settled himself beside her in the bed. He snuggled close and wrapped his large arms around her as she laid her head on his chest. She was content to stay that way, listening to the sound of his heart and his steady, even breathing. It brought her comfort and made her feel safe. Exhaustion taking her, she closed her heavy eyelids and drifted off.

Veyah awoke the next morning to find Farkas missing from her bed. She frowned. Wrapping herself in one of her large, warm bed furs she made her way out of the room and down the stairs to the main floor of Breezehome. He was sitting on a stool next to the roasting spit, fully clothed and holding a worn, leather bound book in his hands.

"Morning." he greeted her with a smile.

"Morning, Farkas. What's that?" She motioned to the book in his hand.

"I was going to show you last night, but we got distracted," he chuckled. "It's Kodlak's. I found it in his room in Jorrvaskr while I was hunting for his shard of Wuuthrad, the final piece. It's it journal," He stretched his arm outward, handing her the old journal. "I think you need to read it."

The one thing she didn't want to discuss this morning was the first thing Farkas mentioned. Aela was right, he was an icebrain. With a sigh she took the book in her hands. She ran her thumb over the soft leather cover as memories flooded her mind. "Why do I need to read this?" Her voice was thick.

"Just read it."

Carefully, Veyah opened the journal and began to read. It was like a knife in the heart as she read over Kodlak's words. He had written this, and now he would never write in it again. She skimmed through the book, tears filling her eyes. Farkas watched her closely as she turned the pages one at a time.

Halfway through Veyah stopped suddenly, a look of pure shock washing over her face. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she clutched the book close to her chest. "He wanted me to take his place." she whispered. She saw Farkas smile, then nod.

"I told you, he always thought of you as a daughter."

"Farkas, I can't be the Harbinger. I'm not-"

"There's more." Was all he said.

There, hidden within the pages of Kodlak's journal were the final steps to curing Lycanthropy.

"So, when do we leave?" he asked with a smile.

"Now." she replied.

"Then I suggest you get dressed."