Eriah slowly came back to consciousness but her eyes stubbornly refused to open. She felt light, as if someone was cradling her in their arms and walking with her. She felt a pang of nostalgia for years long past when she was just a child in Cyrodiil, when her parents would carry her like this. She wished she could go back to those simpler times. Before the near-execution, before Alduin, before finding out she was Dragonborn, before Miraak...before her regrets. She felt a harsh pain in her shoulder and it felt like she was burning up. Her memory was slow to return and then she remembered. She and Farkas had taken a job to clear a mine of bandits in Eastmarch but along the way, they were ambushed by the Silver Hand. She remembered Farkas giving into the beast blood and fighting them with a frenzy she had never seen before. She then remembered seeing an archer aiming an arrow topped with a silver arrowhead at his back. Werewolves were burned by silver and without really thinking to use a Shout to prevent her close friend and shield-brother from getting shot, she called out his name and jumped in front of it. She was shot in the shoulder. As if the silver wasn't enough, there was also poison on it. As she went down, she heard a roar of rage she had never heard from Farkas as he bellowed at their enemies and she passed out, listening as he tore them apart. From what Eriah could tell in her poisoned haze, the arrow was still in her shoulder. What was more, the gait of the one carrying her was not human. Was it Farkas?
Farkas, still a werewolf, walked along the road towards Windhelm. He could sense Eriah was awake but he kept his feral eyes on the road. He was cradling her in his long arms and ignoring the urge to avoid the road, lest he be seen given that it was broad daylight. He was counting on it. He wanted to be seen. Eriah had been shot and poisoned, so she depended on him to get her somewhere safe. He knew that she had friends in Windhelm. Namely a certain Jarl. It pained the werewolf to leave Eriah with another man but what choice did he have? He lacked the materials needed to care for her wound and Windhelm wasn't far from where they were ambushed. Even in his feral state, he still had presence of mind to know when one of his own pack was in need of assistance he couldn't give. Eriah was no werewolf but she was definitely part of his pack. As the beast walked along the road, his thoughts wandered to the ambush. When the Dragonborn had been shot, Farkas had been overcome by a rage he never felt before. Not even when his own twin had wound up in similar situations. What was it about Eriah that changed that? He let his eyes slide down to the woman and fought off the urge to sink his teeth in her neck, a wolf's way of claiming a mate. It was getting harder to control his more feral urges. His beast blood was beginning to see her as a female to be claimed and he felt the need to keep other males away. It was easy enough to control as a man but as a werewolf, it was a bit harder. He could only wonder why he felt the way he did, longing for her in ways he hadn't felt for a long time. He gave a low growl to bring his focus back to the problem at hand. He could only hope that, if they bumped into someone who could get Eriah to Windhelm for treatment, he'd be able hold himself in check.
Eriah finally managed to work her eyes open when she felt the pace of the one carrying slow to a stop. Her eyes met with the furry chin of a werewolf who was growling with what appeared to be a halfhearted snarl on his face. "Farkas?" she whispered. She let her head fall to the side to see what he was growling at. Coming their way was a contingent of Stormcloak soldiers and at the head was none other than Ulfric Stormcloak. In spite of her poisoned state, her heart thumped at the sight of him. She had known for a long time that she harbored feelings for him but had chosen not to say anything. Her heart grew fearful for Farkas. He was still in beast form and he would be killed. In her current state, she couldn't protect him. He was completely exposed and vulnerable. She could also get hurt if he forgot himself and went on the attack. It had not escaped her notice that Farkas had changed a little as they worked together and their friendship deepened. She overheard Vilkas teasing him but had thought nothing of it. She couldn't recall what he was teasing his brother about but she had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with her. At this moment, her mind was racing, trying to find ways to keep the Stormcloaks from killing Farkas and to keep him from going on the warpath because of an imagined threat his beast blood was undoubtedly whispering in his ear.
The Jarl and his men spotted the beast standing in the road. The werewolf gave a loud roar, causing them to pull their swords out. "Wait." Ulfric said when he spied what the monster had in his arms. Against all expectation, the werewolf gently set a person down on the road. "Eriah." he gasped in slight shock. After her service to him was over, the Dragonborn had left Eastmarch to return to Whiterun. What was she doing here in his hold and in the arms of a werewolf of all beasts? It became clear that she was hurt. He slowly dismounted his horse and pulled his own sword out, motioning for his men to fan out across the road. He didn't know what the beast was doing but it was a threat to all them, including Eriah. The accursed hounds of Hircine were known to him, having heard a tragic piece of news from Falkreath about a girl-child having been killed by such a monster. The werewolf was watching them closely, his lips pulled back in a snarl but he made no move to charge. "What in Talos's name is going on?" Ulfric wondered when he saw Eriah reach up and close her hand around one of the monster's fingers, catching its attention.
"Farkas...please. Don't leave me." she whispered. It had just slipped out. Part of her wanted him to flee so he wouldn't be killed but a larger part wanted him to stay, despite the threat that Ulfric and his men presented. She couldn't bear it if he left her behind. Her shield-brother just looked down at her and, ignoring the men nearby, lowered his nose down to her neck. She realized too late that he was on the side where the brand was and that it was likely out in plain sight. Shame flooded her body, something that confused her because it was in the language of the dov and didn't mean what it said in that way. For all she knew, Farkas probably thought it was a tattoo of some sort. But still, the fact that it translated into 'You are mine' was enough to make her feel ashamed. She could hear the Stormcloaks getting ready to charge because it appeared that Farkas was getting ready to kill her, despite his deliberately slow speed in lowering his head. Her face burned when she felt him drag his tongue slowly over her neck and caused what felt like an electric shock to course through her body. She watched as Farkas drew himself to his full seven-foot height and he let out another roar before tearing off the road into the woods. "After that monster! I want its head!" Ulfric was heard ordering some of his men. Eriah could only reach out with a hand in the direction her friend had vanished. "Don't...leave..." she rasped as the Jarl came up to her side.
"What happened to you?" he asked, gently propping her against his knee. He saw the arrow in her shoulder and told one of his remaining men to break the shaft. Eriah's unfocused eyes remained where the werewolf had disappeared for a moment before looking up at him. Her hand shakily rose up to curl her fingers into the front of his robes. "Don't...kill...him. He's...my friend." she rasped. Ulfric could see she wasn't just wounded but also poisoned. He turned to Ralof who was staring at her in shock. The two had been friends since Helgen so it was easy to see the other man was in disbelief that the Dragonborn was in trouble. "Ralof, I need you to run back to Windhelm and tell Wuunferth that he will be needed very soon. Tell him we have the Dragonborn and she's poisoned. Take Galmor's horse and we'll follow shortly." he ordered. "Yes, sir. Hang in there, Eriah. You didn't survive a dragon attack and the war just to die now." he said. Galmor handed the reins off to him and he was gone. Ulfric stood up with Eriah in his arms. Her head came to rest against his chest and she was almost unconscious again. "Galmor, send a scout to find the men I sent after that werewolf. Their orders are to track it to wherever it came from and kill it." he said. "It will be done. Still, I wonder. Stormblade here called it her friend. What does it mean?" the other man asked. "She's delirious with poison. That's all there is to it." Ulfric said. He turned to his horse and balanced Eriah on the saddle while he mounted behind her. He leaned her back against him and turned his horse around. "The rest of you, split up into patrols. No telling if that werewolf was alone. Look for signs of any others and take care of it." he ordered his men. He then got his horse up to a trot back to the city.
Meanwhile, crashing through the forest well ahead of his pursuers, Farkas felt the beast blood fade. He slowed to a staggering walk, bracing against trees as he started to change back. He fell to the ground as the last of his fur vanished and his tail disappeared. Heaving from his escape and from the change, the Companion looked around to see where he was. As luck would have it, he was back in the area where he and Eriah had been ambushed. He got to his feet and headed to the clearing nearby. He found the bodies of the Silver Hand and thanked the Divines that Eriah's helm had remained where it had fallen during the fight. Picking up the Masque of Clavicus Vile, he left the area. Even though he had changed back, he decided to avoid being seen by the Stormcloaks and chose to head back to Whiterun. Eriah was in good hands and, even though it still didn't sit well that he left her behind, it was best that she recover in Windhelm. He could only hope that Kodlak was understanding of the situation. Farkas had had no choice. Skyrim was crawling with Silver Hand thugs and Eriah had risked her life to protect him. He felt ashamed she had gotten hurt so badly on his account.
Leaving her behind also made him feel a bit angry and he was starting to believe that Vilkas was right. No, he knew Vilkas was right. Farkas had fallen in love with Eriah the longer they worked together. It explained so much, like why his beast side was starting to see her as a viable mate and the surge of jealousy he felt when she had grown comfortable enough to confide many things she generally kept to herself. He knew of her unrequited feelings for Ulfric Stormcloak, which made him want to do some damage to something, and a few of her regrets. There was also that strange marking on her neck. He knew it was dragon script because he had seen Word Walls before, such as the one in Dustman's Cairn. He still hadn't brought it up with her that he had seen it in the Cairn and he had a feeling she was hiding something about it since he had sensed shame emanating from her after he looked down at her when she took one of his fingers, meaning she knew he had seen it for sure. Farkas also felt reason to hope that perhaps she felt the same as he did because when he licked the side of her neck, he could feel the heat from her face far more easily than he would've if he had been human at the time. All he had meant from the gesture was letting her know she was safe. Wolves did that with their pups as a comfort. Still, he allowed himself to hope that her reaction meant she felt the same. To a human, touching the neck with one's lips was an intimate gesture between lovers. Farkas could easily have let her in on his attraction with what he did, even though he had a feeling she was too addled by poison to even think of the possibility. She had been coherent enough to beg him to stay but that was only as far as he knew. He had to wait for her to return to Jorrvaskr before anything could be known for sure. "Come home soon, Eriah. We have a lot to talk about." he thought as he got on the road.